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



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

SITREP: What Has Transpired....
*******************************

    In April 1994, Tsukino Usagi, better known as Sera Muun, did the 
unthinkable.  Fearing for her own sanity, she gave up on her heritage and 
birthright as Princess Serenity, retreating from the world and hiding herself 
from it.  Little did she know that her actions would cause the near-breakup of 
the Sera Senshi and the emotional breakdown of Chiba Mamoru, her fiance promised 
to her since time before time.
    Four years later, the Senshi fight on, despite increased odds, with a new 
leader and a new Sera Muun.  Crystal Tokyo is one step closer, with the marriage 
of Mamoru to Hino Rei, the Senshi of Mars.  However, things are bleak and Sera 
Binaasu and her forces are clearly fighting a losing war.
    Even still, amongst the chaos, the Senshi still must make time to live as 
normal people.  And when Mizuno Ami accepts a scholarship at the University of 
California at Irvine in southern California, it seems just that.


    However, life is never easy for anyone who wears the mantle of a Senshi.  
The day before Ami’s departure, the nine Senshi and Mamoru see a news report of 
an American superhero group known only as the Sailors, with three members of 
that group handily defeating a criminal group exponentially larger than they. As 
the report ends, Setsuna notes that the group bears investigating.  With her 
proximity to the Sailors’ area of operations, Ami volunteers to investigate.  
With that, Sera Makyuuri leaves for the States, and new experiences.
    But before she leaves, Rei asks Ami to do the one thing that all the Senshi 
desire most: to find Usagi and bring her home where she belongs.  Unsure if she 
can even do so, Ami agrees to try.


    Two days later, she arrives in Los Angeles, ready to begin her new life and 
confident that she can uncover the secret of the Sailors.  That feeling is 
shattered by the first American she meets, Amy Andersen, a girl that looks 
exactly like Ami.  As the initial shock from meeting Amy wears down, Ami then 
meets Amy’s friends Mina, Lita, and Raye, three more women that are hauntingly 
identical to Minako, Makoto, and Rei.  As she watches her new friends, the 
thought of the Sailors initially comes into mind, Ami then places it out her 
mind as being too coincidental.  Strange then, that Amy, Lita, and Mina leave 
for separate reasons at the same time, even as their respective beepers and cel 
phone sound off playing the same tune.
    The reason for this is a grand scale, mall-wide robbery by two notorious 
criminals hellbent on making off with millions of dollars.  The local police are 
outwitted by the criminal element, and hold thousands of innocents hostage.  
Something must be done, and with an electronic call for help, Amy, Lita, and 
Mina are summoned.  With a flash of their prism transformation rings, they 
change from three simple college students to three of southern California’s 
greatest superheroes--Sailor Mercury, Sailor Jupiter, and Sailor Venus.


    But even as the three Sailors race into battle, a threat surfaces on the 
horizon that could spell the end of the world as everyone knows it.  And an 
entity from the future could spell doom for the present.... 
    



CHAPTER THREE: She is the One Called....
****************************************
    Los Angeles Police Captain Clarence Davids wasn’t having the best of days.  
He’d already gave up his plans for leaving today on 
vacation--and a well deserved one, thank you.  Unfortunately, Captain Davids, or 
Clare to his pals, served a specialty position.  He 
was the commander of the SoCal HLO.  The SoCal HLO, or Southern California 
Heroes’ Liaison Office, was the coordinating team 
of cops between the Southland’s law enforcement agencies and the 70 registered 
legally sanctioned vigilantes, or “superheroes”, as 
the media liked to call them.  Whether it was working with solo heroes like 
Terra Knight, the Paladin or Stormhawk, or superteams, 
such as the Power Force, MegaGuardians or the Sailors, his unit was expected to 
be on the scene, and occasionally take on high-
risk criminals--the so-called “supervillians”--themselves.  Fortunately, they 
were equipped with the latest state-of-the-art equipment 
that would make most SWAT teams green with envy, and more importantly, had a 
special Governor’s writ that allowed them police 
authority from Santa Barbara down to the border; CentCal HLO in Fresno and 
NorCal HLO in Frisco had the same setup.
    There were times, however, that having this job sucked.  ((Like now.  If 
these scumbags had only waited until tomorrow,)) he 
mentally moaned, ((I’d be in Acapulco, and Samson could have handled this.))  
    At his side, his second in command, San Diego PD Detective Samson Shepherd 
was somewhat apologetic.  “Sorry, Clare.  I told 
‘em you were already gone, but they weren’t buying it.”
    “Naah, don’t worry about it,” Clare returned.  “I’m an old school cop.  They 
knew I wasn’t gonna run.  ‘Sides, what if no hero 
shows up?  Means we gotta move in,” he said, checking the charge on his TS-022 
laser rifle.


    “Fortunately, Clare, honey,” a sultry and silken voice replied, “the heroes 
were already here.  We just came to help.”
    Clare didn’t even turn around. He knew that voice too well.  Chuckling, he 
commented, “Always the smooth talker, hmm, Venus?”
    “You know me, pal: Ms. Personality.  So, who we up against?”
    “The Kray brothers, Burton and Chase--also known as Pyromancer and Recoil.  
They recently broke out of their cages, but we 
didn’t think they’d surface so quickly.”
    “They broke out?” Jupiter snapped.  “When?  Why wasn’t it on the TacNet?”
    “Three weeks ago.  We did put it on the TacNet--I think it was during the 
time your Delphi system was down for maintenance.  
Firebird, Wolf, and the Magician were out searching for them for a few days.”
    “Fuck,” she replied.  “I hate those bastards--especially Pyromancer.”
    “Personal issue, Venus?” Samson asked.  Ever stringent to the law, he didn’t 
like loose cannons.
    “Kinda, Sammy.  Last time I arrested him in Riverside, he was trying to feel 
me up.  I think he has it in for me--and I don’t mean 
lethal intent.”
    Not wanting to deal with the current topic, Mercury brought it back to the 
matter at hand.  “You sure it’s the Krays? They must be 
pretty desperate to not only try something like this, but to work with low-life 
henchmen,” she pointed out.  “Not their usual style.”
    “Not their usual style, true,” Samson conceded, “but we’ve heard rumors that 
they’ve worked with Neil Bushnell, a.k.a. the 
superhacker CapsLock, before.  The mall’s security systems are computer 
controlled, so he might be in this as well.”
    “We’ll take that in advisement,” Venus said, her mouth a thin line.  “What’s 
the conditions of entry?”
    From behind them, a cop running some kind of computer rig answered, “We’ve 
got control of the Crystal Court section of the mall 
across the street.  It’s got an underground access tunnel that apparently the 
Krays don’t have covered.  We’ve got the section 
secured with Costa Mesa SWAT and a couple of our boys, but we’re still 
outgunned, and they have hostages.  That’ll be your entry 
point.”
    “Okay, we got ya,” Jupiter replied.  “Our comms will be set to TacNet 
channel 14--but don’t call us; we’ll call you.  The least thing 
we need is for our call signal to go off while we’re just about to ambush 
someone.”
    Clare turned around.  “Okay, then ladies.  Good lu--”
    They weren’t there.  He sighed, turned to Samson, and muttered, “Sometimes 
that Sailor Mercury girl’s a little *too* quick.”


    In the space it took for Clare to make his comments to his partner, the 
three Sailors (courtesy of the Mercury Express) crossed 
the street, entered the Crystal Court, followed the cops, entered the access 
tunnels, crossed back into South Coast Plaza’s main 
building, then stopped and surveyed their surroundings.
    Well, at least Mercury did; the other two, unused to the sudden stop, 
momentarily dropped to their knees as the blood came 
rushing back to their heads.
    “Amy,” Venus whispered harshly, “next time, no sudden stops, please?”
    “Ain’t that the truth,” Jupiter said, pulling herself back to her feet.  “I 
don’t think I can take it.”
    Mercury blushed.  “Sorry.  I’m so used to them, I forget about it when I’m 
carrying passengers.”  She went to the nearby door, 
and peeked outside, looking for the mall’s stun cannons.  Sure enough, mounted 
on the mall’s ceiling at intervals of every hundred 
feet or so, were dark gray domes that signified the housing blisters for each 
maser unit.  In addition to that, there were several 
heavily armed thugs and one Washington-class minitank, a heavily modified 
variant of a humvee.  “Man, they really came packed 
for bear.  Wonder if the Army’s missing any of their little tin cans?”
    “Can’t say,” Venus replied, also peeking through the crack.  “I’ll take out 
the tank.  That’ll leave you with the gunners, Mercury.”
    “Easy as hell, but I’m worried about the stun cannons.  I might be fast, but 
not even I can run FLT.  Is there any way we can take 
out those security guns?”
    “I can do it,” Jupiter replied, “but the timing’s gonna be a little tight.  
Here’s the plan....”

                                     =<+>=

    “Captain Davids,” a police tech said from his terminal, “we have a call 
coming in for you, sir.  TacNet Channel 14, Code 5.”
    “Jupiter,” he commented.  “What’s she got to say?”
    “If reports are lost from this side, switch to a tight-beam frequency that 
will punch through EM jamming.”
    “She said what?” Samson barked.  “Repeat that again?”
    “She said to get off the regular EM band; it’s not ideal.  Go to a jam-
resistant frequency.”
    Clare waved his thanks to the cop, then began to confer with his right-hand 
man.  “Why the hell would they want us to move off 
the normal EM band?  It’s not like we’re the damn Pentagon; special frequencies 
are hard to come by.”
    “I’m more concerned as to *why* they want us to.”  Samson furrowed his 
brows.  “It makes me kinda wonder what hell’s about to 
go on in there.”
     “Well, let’s think about it,” another cop, next to Samson, commented.  
“Venus is an illusionist and energy thrower.  Mercury has 
serious amounts of speed and some control over sonics.  Jupiter has control over 
lightning, and electricity....”
    The cops all paused, realizing that the answer was staring them in front of 
their faces.
    “Oh, shit!!!”  Clare grabbed a radio unit and started screaming, “I want 
everyone in the vicinity of Crystal Court, and all those near 
the windows and exits, to completely power down for five minutes.  Radios, laser 
rifles, the works.  And I want it *NOW!*”

                                     =<+>=

   CapsLock stared at the monitor, noticing the three superheroines as they 
raced out into the open.  Getting on his radio, he 
contacted Pyromancer.  “Hey, Burton--ya gots viruses in the system.  And I ain’t 
talking the computer.”
    “Cops?” came the request.
    “Only if you were lucky,” the hacker commented.  “Naah, we got ourselves a 
coupla Navy girls, if you catch my drift.”
    “Ahhh, those high and mighty Sailors,” Pyromancer seethed from the other 
side.  “Well, you have control over those security 
cannons, right?”
    “Burton, bud, I got control over everything tied into the central core.  
Whether it’s the security masers or the carousel, it’s mine.”
    “Then you know what to do.  Those cannons ain’t lethal, but it’ll make it 
that much easier for us to bust a cap in their pretty little 
heads.”
    “Gotcha.  Over and out.”  Beginning to switch over the functions of the 
masers to the targeting computers and feeding in the 
Sailors’ visuals, he knew there would only be one chance.  CapsLock just got out 
of a five-year hacking sentence two months ago, 
and he damned if he was going back in.

                                    =<+>=

    Venus raced out into the clear, flanked by Mercury and Venus, as dozens of 
guns trained on them.  She could hear the voices of 
several people shout, “Let the bitches have it!”
    Venus in kind turned to her partners and cried, “Okay ladies, take ‘em 
down!”
    Jupiter went first.  Already having her power at the ready, a green nimbus 
of energy enshrouding her, she punched the floor with 
both hands and bellowed, “EMP Shockwave!”  The blast of green electricity 
rippled outwards, punching into and affecting everything 
electronic that it slammed into.  Laser guns were rendered inert.  Power fizzled 
out.  Radios went silent.  The lights died in that 
portion of the mall as everything within visual distance of their entry point 
was sent back to the stone age.
    The scene became total cacophony as the thugs realized that a third of their 
firepower was lost, and the other two thirds were 
now firing at the last seen location of where the trio was.  By then, the girls 
had already initiated step two of their plan.  With 
Jupiter’s part already done, Venus immediately targeted her victim--the 
minitank.  Screaming out,  “Cupid’s Arrow!” she held her left 
hand as though wielding a bow, while drawing back her right as though she was 
readying.  She thrust her right forward, and an 
orange shaft of energy rocketed forward, hitting the tank.  Although she didn’t 
use enough power to destroy it, her aim was true--the 
primary turret of the tank was destroyed in a blast of sparks, and the secondary 
lasers were already out.
    With that explosion, Mercury got just enough light to see where the various 
fire groups were.  Taking off like a bolt of Jupiter’s 
lighting, she barreled left and right, throwing dozens of punches as she raced 
around the vicinity of the blast radius, taking out every 
thug that she’d seen.  All her opponents saw was a second’s flicker of blue, 
then nothing else.  When the ground opposition was 
defeated, she then raced up to the second floor and began her attack anew.
    As Venus and Jupiter were watching, a huge mass of muscle, about 7 feet and 
weighing in at 400 pounds, strode in front of 
Mercury.  She bounced off him, then flipped back, instantly coming to a stop and 
landing on her feet.  She snarled, “You’re under 
arrest! You know the rest.”
    The man, whose face could barely be seen, spoke in a derisive tone, his 
voice a boom.  “I am Massive, little rocket.  Can you 
stop me?”
    Mercury smiled wickedly.  “Oh yeah.  You betcha I can.”


    Watching from below, their eyes having adjusted to the ambient light, 
Jupiter whispered to Venus, “What the hell does she think 
she’s doing?”
    Venus glanced back at her teammate.  “Trying to over-prove herself--as 
usual.”

    From where they were, they could see Mercury pull her arms back, then swing 
them forward, shouting, “Sonic Boom!”  Twin 
blasts of white noise spiraled towards Massive, slamming into his chest and 
pushing him back.

    Jupiter turned to Venus and commented, “Maybe it’s just me, but I think 
she’s been playing too many video games, lately.”

    She then initiated a spin kick, spiraling round and round and round again, 
hitting her sizable foe each time.  She spun to the point 
where she was lifting several feet into the air, before swatting the giant back 
to the floor with a well-placed ax-kick.  During this 
attack, she called out, “Shippu Jinrai Kyaku!” and it was clear from the bad 
pronunciation that she’d been taking Japanese lessons 
courtesy of CAPCOM.

    Venus looked back at Jupiter and replied, “You know, I think you may be 
right.”
    Jupiter rolled her eyes, then deadpanned, “Oh, you think?”

    As the thug slammed onto the floor, Mercury landed as well, and wasted no 
time.  She thrust forward, and in her multimedia-
inspired combat frenzy, roared, “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire attack!”  
Her fists began to move at a lightning speed, nailing 
Massive with powerful blow upon powerful blow.

    “I see she’s been borrowing those Japanamation videos from Cathy again.”
    “Looks like it.  I think it’s time to go get her before she ruins the entire 
operation.”  Venus then yelled, “Hey Chun-Li, when you’re 
done up there getting the top score, you mind terribly helping us save some 
lives?”

    Mercury paused in stride after kick 437.  Looking down sheepishly at her 
teammates, she apologized.  “Sorry, guys--I guess I got 
carried away again.”  Pulling away from her opponent, she raced down to her 
friends’ side.  “Well, ready if you are.”
    “Oh gee, thank you ever *sooooo* much.”  Venus’ voice dripped pure sarcasm.  
“Let’s go, before we have to deal with more of 
them.”  Nothing more to be said, the three Sailors sped off (at a normal human 
pace, much to Mercury’s annoyance).  

    Above them, Massive fell, cut down to size by the little rocket.  He pitched 
forward, and slammed into the floor, thankfully 
unconscious.
        
                                    =<+>=

    On the other side of the mall, there was a fairly popular specialty store, 
and its specialty was simple: rabbits.  The Bushels O’ 
Bunnies store not only sold the aforementioned, but was in itself a celebration 
to them, as it sold books about them and stuffed-
bunny dolls as well.  The decor looked like it came straight from a Beatrix 
Potter tale, from the homey wood-and-wallpaper look to 
the Victorian-era writing on the window that stated simply, BUSHELS O’ BUNNIES 
in an arc, with the words S. DAVENPORT, 
PROPRIETOR.  Despite its success, the place was a serene little number, one that 
radiated calm and joy in celebration of 
everything that was rabbits.
    Within the store, currently, however, things weren’t so peaceful.  The 
frightened rabbits were mewing and screeching, making 
noises that most people couldn’t picture rabbits making.  There were burn marks, 
laser carbon scoring, and bullet holes throughout 
the store, including the glass cages--the dead rabbits proved that.  People were 
on the floor, with some crying hysterically, or 
fearing for their lives.  The newest people in the store were the reason why.  
    Four of the goons were in there, holding the cashier and several of the 
store’s patrons at gunpoint.  One of them was holding a 
laser pistol to the head of a small girl.  Despite the fact that the child was 
practically frightened to death and had soiled herself, the 
thug held the gun to her head, playing with the pistol’s intensity slide to get 
his point to the assembled victims.
    The second man, apparently the lead-thug, chomped on a cigar, gave his best 
sneer through his stubble, and snarled to the 
person at the cash terminal--probably the owner--while pointing a nasty-looking 
flame-thrower at her, “Cough up your cash, or I kill 
the little shit!  Now!”
    The cashier commented in what sounded as a calm, controlled, voice, “Fine--
just don’t hurt the girl.  You can have whatever you 
want.  Just let her go.”
    “Listen bitch, I take whatever I want and I do whatever I want.”  
Stubbleface leaned in forward, took a draw from his cigar, then 
blew it in her face.  “I want your money.  Now.  Or I’ll kill everyone in this 
room.”  The way he said it, his heated demeanor indicated 
that he was not bluffing.  Sizing her up to see if she would be any trouble, he 
glanced at the cashier.   A beautiful young woman with 
long, flowing blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, she was wearing a long-sleeve 
pink shirt and blue jeans.  She looked like that 
rare smart type of blonde, he decided--probably smart enough to mind her own 
business.
    The lady at the cashier punched in the void entry code, then opened the cash 
drawer.  As she began to fill a small bag with the 
money currently in the tiller, another woman, a cute teenager with short black 
hair and violet eyes commented, “You’re not going to 
get away with this.”
    A third punk, trying to look too cool with the bandanna over his pate, 
trained his assault rifle on the girl.  “Shut the fuck up!”
    “Heather, dear,” the blonde woman warned, “please cooperate.  I don’t want 
to see you getting hurt.”
    “Yeah, *Heather*,” Bandanna said, making her name an insult, “don’t fuck 
with me.  I’d have ta cap ya, an’ yer sister might not like 
it.”
    Heather pressed on, defiant as ever.  “She’s not my sister, you moron.  
She’s my foster mother.”
    Stubbleface examined the cashier.  “Really?  You don’t look older than 25, 
and she’s what, 14--”
    *“15, fuzzface!”* Heather snapped, before getting shoved against the wall by 
Bandanna.
    “I’m 23,” the cashier explained with a trace of anger in her voice, “and 
before her parents died, I promised them that I would take 
care of her.  Not that it’s any concern of yours.”
    “Listen, lady,” Stubbleface snapped, “if I want an answer, I get an answer, 
or you get dead.  If you and your kid want to live 
through this, then you do what I say.  Got that?”  The blonde, properly cowed 
again, meekly nodded.  
    Heather, ever heedless to the level of danger, continued.  “You punks know 
you’re not gonna get away with this!”
    “And who’s gonna stop us?” Lasergun, still holding the gun to his hostage, 
said, nearly laughing.  “You?” He laughed heartily, 
staring at the girl with the torn jeans, black _X-Files_ T-shirt and Nikes--
definitely no threat.
    “Nope.”  Heather’s answer this time was to point behind them using her chin.  
“They are.”


    *“Electroshock!”*  Jupiter’s thrown blast of lighting downed the closest 
punk, the silent type carrying a military-style mini-
chaingun.  He fell to the floor, twitching from the painful--but non-lethal--
dose of lightning he was hit with.
    Lasergun turned with the kid, to let their assailants know that he had a 
hostage.  At least, that was the plan.  He’d got no further 
than turning around when he felt his pistol ripped from his hand, then the 
child, then to take a series of rapid fire hits to the face.  Of 
course, he didn’t see most of that.  What he did see was a blur of light blue.
    Bandanna pressed his gun to the head of the ever defiant Heather, but he was 
spun around and nailed in the gut by a gloved fist.  
He was then backhanded in the face, then slammed by an uppercut, as a voice 
called out, “Lovely Shock Combo!”  As he staggered 
back and away from the girl, he was able to discern the face of Sailor Venus 
just before she laid him out with a snapping high kick.
    Stubbleface turned to fire on the Sailors, but he forgot the cashier, and 
that was his mistake.  She promptly picked up a wooden 
bunny statue and slammed it over his head, breaking it and knocking him 
unconscious. 


    Heather looked at her saviors.  “Wow...it’s the Sailors!”
    Venus looked at the cashier.  “You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk, Ms., 
um--” Venus looked back at the store’s sign, checking 
the name, “--Davenport.  If your stunt didn’t work, he would’ve fired on you.”
    Ms. Davenport blushed at the semi-compliment.  “Just a concerned citizen,” 
she said mildly.
    “I…see.”  As the crowd got to their feet and professed words of thanks to 
the Sailors, Venus turned to Mercury and Jupiter.  “We 
need to get these people out of here.  Think we can do it?”
    “You betcha,” Jupiter replied.  Turning to the crowd, she said, “Alright, I 
need you all to get as close to me as possible, but leave 
me a foot radius to move around.  We’ll do this once we step outside.”
    Mercury handed the child she was carrying to her grateful mother.  “You’re 
gonna need a clear path.  I’ll take care of that.”  With 
an azure flash, Mercury was off again.
    Suddenly, Heather turned to her foster mother, just as they were about to 
follow the crowd outside.  “Oh no!  Brenda’s still in the 
back!”
    “Oh my--I forgot!”  Ms. Davenport explained to Sailor Venus, “Heather’s 
friend is in the lounge at the back of the store.  I’ll have to 
get her.”
    Venus nodded assent, then watched as Heather and her foster mother 
disappeared behind the EMPLOYEES ONLY sign.  
Calling a sphere of energy to her hands, she commented, “Get these folks out of 
here.  I’ll cover your back.”
    “What about them?” Jupiter commented, pointing to the Davenports.
    “Tell Mercury to come back for them once you get these people to the exit.  
Now get these people out of here.  We don’t need 
anyone else at risk.”
    As the group assembled outside the store and encircled her, Jupiter raised 
her hand in the air and canted, “Jovian Shield!”  An 
umbra of green energy, similar to the shield that covered her car, formed around 
the group, only this one remained visible.  As she 
checked the shield’s integrity, she instructed her charges, “Stay at least a 
foot away from the shield.  If you’ll notice, it’s making your 
skin tingle--that’s because I’m pumping enough electricity into it to destroy 
anything that comes in contact with the shield.  
Unfortunately, that means you too, so be careful where you step.  We’ll be 
moving slowly enough so that everyone can keep in 
step.  Everyone got it?”  As she got murmurs and nods of understanding, she 
began to walk, saying, “Okay--let’s go.”


    Venus watched the assembly take off, then slid the door to the store shut, 
and ran to the back.  Once through the employee’s 
door, she looked at the pair.  “Okay, where’s Brenda?”
    “Back at school, Mina,” Heather answered, a sullen tone to her voice.  “She 
didn’t want to come with me to talk to Serena.”
    “No,” Serena Davenport clarified, “she didn’t want to be here watching you 
fail at trying to get out of your latest grounding.”
    Venus turned to Serena.  “Why’s she grounded?”  It was clear by Venus’ voice 
this wasn’t the first time.
    Serena’s response was to stare at Heather, who meekly supplied, “I’m 
grounded for a month.  Remember Chad’s concert at 
Dodger Stadium two days ago?”
    “Yeah,” Venus said.  “You did a great job of saving Ms. Fraser.  But that 
wouldn’t be why you’re in trouble, is it?”
    “Well, to go to the concert, Brenda and I skipped school without telling 
Serena.  Chad gave me the tickets, and I’d forgot to ask 
Serena in advance, so I thought I’d go and no one’d be the wiser.  I wasn’t 
expecting Amy or Raye to be there--and I wasn’t 
expecting the Triangles, either.”
    Venus’ response to that was to turn to Serena.  “You grounded her for 
*that?*  Honestly, I can’t remember how many times *we* 
skipped school!  Serena, you’re starting to act like your mother.”
    “*That’s* not why she’s in trouble,” Serena said, tersely.  “Heather, 
continue.”
    “Serena, it’s not fair!  Those weren’t mine!” Heather shrieked.
    Unfazed, Serena explained.  “Yesterday, while I was doing the laundry, I 
found a pair of marijuana joints in her jeans pockets.  
She says they’re not hers, but how else did they get in her pockets?”
    “*What?*” Mercury, who’d just strolled in the door, cried.  “Heather, how 
could you do this to us--to Serena?!?  After all the times 
we’ve busted drug dealers, and now this?”
    A tear rolled down Heather’s cheek.  “Amy, I’m telling ya, they aren’t 
mine!”  Then in a smaller voice, “They’re Brenda’s.  I took 
them away from her at the concert.”
    All three adults gasped.  Heather’s best friend, Brenda fit the classic role 
of a bookworm to a T, even more so than Amy.  Not 
having been known to be the troublemaker that Heather was, the rather mousy-
looking girl was the least person they’d thought who 
would have them.
    Heather continued, the tears coming easier.  “I chewed her ass out for even 
thinking about it, much less having ‘em.  I thought 
you would have more faith in me--especially you, Serena!  The reason Brenda 
didn’t want to come is because she was too 
ashamed to have you look down on her like you’re doing to me!  You know I 
wouldn’t do them.  I may have done a lot of bad things 
before, but ‘d never do that!”
    Venus pressed. “You’re telling the truth, Heather?”  
    Serena spoke, a dry whisper.  “She’s never lied to me, Mina.  She’s done a 
lot of things, but she’s never lied to me.”  The three 
women were stilled for an eternity’s worth of a second.  Serena then broke the 
thunderous silence.  “I’m sorry, Heather.  I should’ve 
had more faith in you.  Please forgive me.”  The blonde hugged her foster 
daughter to her.  “I never meant to hurt you.”
    “T’s okay, Serena,” Heather replied.  “I know you were just looking out for 
me.  Just at least listen to me, next time?”
    “Of course,” Serena said, wiping the tears from Heather’s eyes.  “I 
promise.”
    Before the other two could also apologize, Heather continued, “Don’t.  I 
know, you all have my best interests in heart, an’ all that.  
I may be a punk at times, but I love you all--you’ve all been the family I 
haven’t had since my Mom and Dad died.  An’ I know you’re 
just trying to keep me from becoming like them.”

    
    “I’m glad this is all cleared up.  However,” Mercury replied, “we’ve still 
got a mall to clear out.”
    “Well, then I say we clobber ‘em,” Heather said.
    “No mercy,” Serena added, her mouth a tight line and her eyes blazing 
righteous fury.
    The raven-haired teen shoved her hand towards the sky, crying, *“In the name 
of Kronos, I call upon my birthright--POWER 
OF SATURN, ARISE!”*  Light exploded from her amethyst ring, enveloping her, and 
a second later, Sailor Saturn stood where 
Heather Thomas was.
    “I guess it’s my turn then,” Serena said.  Thrusting her diamond ring into 
the air, she called upon her own power.  *“In the name 
of Artemis, I call upon my birthright--POWER OF THE MOON, ARISE!”*  She was 
enveloped within a cocoon of white light.  Her 
pants became white spandex shorts with black racing trim.  Black bobby socks and 
white shoes replaced her soft boots.  Her shirt 
faded into the light, to be replaced by a black T-shirt, which in turn was 
covered by a midriff, short-sleeve tunic with a flap on the 
back.  Black Nelson stripes appeared on the flap and sleeves, and two black 
stars winked in on the back flap, one in each corner.  A 
black neckerchief appeared, giving the uniform the appearance of a sleek, 
fashionable variation of a US Navy dress whites uniform, 
while on her long blonde hair, a second bow also appeared, tying her hair in 
what Raye called a Japanese-style ponytail.  Lastly, on 
the left arm, where normally would go the complex rank insignia of a US Sailor, 
appeared a simple black crescent moon shape.
    Serena Davenport had changed into her alter ego, the Champion of the Night, 
the Lunar Protector, the Sailor of the Hunt and 
Justice herself...
...Sailor Moon.
      
    
    Moon clenched a fist, and a burst of silvery-white energy erupted from it.  
“Ladies, I think it’s time we paid our friends a little visit.”  
Looking at Venus, she said, “Who’s responsible for this mess?”
    “The Krays,” the other blonde replied.  “They apparently broke out of prison 
three weeks ago while Oracle was upgrading the 
Delphi system.”
    “I told them that I was done screwing with them; you think they would’ve 
listened to us when we arrested them in Riverside,” 
Moon seethed.  “I think it’s time I showed them that I mean business.”  With 
that, the four of them raced out of the store, ready to do 
some serious ass kicking.

                                    =<+>=

    Moon and her crew began their all-out onslaught, beginning to bust their way 
through the enemy.  Moving through each wing of 
the mall, her precise and militant level attacks subdued group upon group of 
criminals, a general leading her forces into victorious 
war.  Large numbers of thugs fell like tenpins, as each Sailor tore into the 
waves of criminals before them.  Jupiter was blasting 
each with bolt upon bolt of lightning, while Mercury provided safety by catching 
each bullet fired at the group.  With no time to use 
her powers (an irony not lost on her teammates), Saturn had to settle for pure 
martial arts fighting, as did Venus.
    But it was Sera Muun herself that was the impressive sight.  A pure force of 
nature, the woman moved this way and that, taking 
out any that opposed her.  Currently, she raced towards one, and as he began to 
fire his gun at her, she hit the floor, moving into a 
tight roll.  Coming out of it just near him and before he could react, she 
powerslid and tripped him.  The second he was unbalanced, 
she went into action.  She barely leapt to her feet, then called out her attack: 
“Lunar Orbit!”  
    If Venus’ joke about Mercury playing too much _Street Fighter_ was true, 
then it was clear that Moon had an advanced case of 
Ken-Ryu-itis.  Her Lunar Orbit was a clear copy of the hurricane kick, with the 
added bonus of slamming ivory-hued plasmaflame 
into her opponent each time she connected.  The gunman went down in an instant, 
and Moon was off against the next foe.
    Said next opponent had a minigun and made it bark; the blast of projectiles 
against the air was so much that it appeared as 
though it were a small laser cannon of its own.   Aiming for each Sailor, the 
guy with the minigun tore up serious parts of the 
surroundings, but didn’t tag a single one of the Sailors. 
    Mercury dodged each bullet.  Admittedly, due to the fact that they were 
HEAP--High Explosive, Armor Piercing--rounds, she 
didn’t want to take the chance in catching them, and she only hoped that someone 
could do something to stop the problems before 
one of them was tagged.
    Venus dived behind one of the fountains as the bullets tore it to 
pieces...as well as the two guys trying to get the drop on her.  
Blood and body fragments rained on her as the two were literally buzzsawed into 
so much sushi by the explosive supersonic 
rounds.  As the rounds came closer to punching through the marble fountain, 
Venus made the jump of her life, diving through the 
glass facade of one of the stores before the deadly rain of bullets began to 
follow her.
    Jupiter immediately put up one of her Jovian shields.  The problem was, 
though, was that in order to fully protect herself against 
the fire, she couldn’t devote any more power to send out one of her other 
attacks.  Also, due to the nature of the shield, she really 
couldn’t engage them in hand-to-hand.  Saturn, also under the shield, was having 
the same problem.  Fortunately, she was able to 
assist Jupiter by taking the older woman’s hand and channeling her own power to 
aid Jupiter’s. 
    This left Moon in the open.  Which was perfect, in her opinion.  She began 
to focus her power, and an aura of power began to 
supercharge around her.  Unfortunately, that also meant that everyone was 
getting ready to draw a bead on her.
    Sailor Moon continued to charge up her power.
    Mercury was far too busy dodging all the fire coming her way to be able to 
do anything to assist Moon.  However, she did notice 
what was going on...and that as fast as she was, she might not be fast enough to 
stop what was about to transpire.
    The minigun trained on the head Sailor, yet she continued to stand there, 
charging up for what appeared to be a massive assault.
    Saturn screamed, but in vain: *“MOON, LOOK OUT!”*  She tried to run forward 
but was grabbed by Jupiter before she would 
fatally impact against the shield.
    The minigun wielder said in a scornful voice, “Shoulda joined the Army, 
bitch.”
    Sailor Moon simply looked at him with a feral smile.
    Minigun-man depressed his trigger, loosing the 3000 rounds per minute of the 
gun.  In fact, everyone fired at the same time, as 
bullets, lasers and gouts of flame blasted towards the center--and cut Moon to 
shreds.  When the amount of projectiles being 
heaved at that centerpoint died down, there was absolutely nothing left, except 
for a faint orange glow.  
    Faint orange glow?
    

    From her place near the shattered store window, the glow faded from where 
Venus had been standing.  As a few noticed it and 
turned in her direction, she called out, “Haaah!  Madeja look!”  She dived 
deeper into the store...
...as Moon, who had been suspended from the ceiling on one of the banners, leapt 
back down to the floor.  Taking advantage of 
everyone’s distracted state, she channeled her power into her hands and screamed 
out, *“Grand Lunasphere!”*
    The world lit up as a huge blast of plasma erupted in all directions at 
once, a contained detonation.  With the power of the blast 
going, Mercury poured on maximum speed to get out of the range of the blast, 
which easily was 25 cubic feet.  As windows 
shattered, marble crumbled, metal snapped and bent and bad guys fell like 
feathers before a gale, Moon poured on the power.  A 
second later, she let the sphere die down.
    The scene that greeted her was that of utter urban warfare.  It was clear 
that this portion of the mall probably no longer had 
structural integrity, and much was a burnt, charred mess.  Bodies were still 
around, covered in soot and grime, but only a few were 
dead; those were the ones who were crushed under fallen walkways or had landed 
at odd angles, critically injuring something.  The 
rest of them were out like lights.  As the police began to slowly move into this 
area, Moon signaled her troops to come to the 
forefront.  Before Clare had a chance to say something, she and her forces took 
off to clear out the last remaining area of the mall, 
the one where the Krays were.


    “Moon?  What’s she doing here?  I didn’t see her--or Saturn, earlier,” 
Samson commented, as he watched the white-clad girls run 
off to their final gauntlet.
    “Sammy, amigo, look what she did and how many of them she’s taken out.  
Personally, I’m *glad* she showed up.  Maybe we’ll 
have a minimum amount of lives taken this time.”
    “Look at all this damage she caused, Clare!  How much more is she gonna do?  
Burn the mall down?” Samson moaned.  
“Whenever Moon does intense and extensive damage, it usually makes the news--as 
the amount of lives she’s saved.  In short, 
she’s unintentionally giving other superheroes, and those associated with the 
Sailors in particular, the message that it’s okay to go a 
little overboard in order to save lives.  Man, she’s always a case of setting 
the farm on fire in order to find the needle in the 
haystack!”
    “She’s doing a great job, and would you rather have, say, that hero they 
have in New York?  Caliber--the one who kills all his 
marks?”
    Samson sighed.  “You just think she’s cute, Clare.”
    “No, actually, I’m impressed by her.  She told me a little about her off-
duty time, Sammy.  Did you know that Saturn’s her foster 
child?  Saturn’s parents were Fire and Ice.”
    “Fire and Ice?  The mass murderers?”
    “The very same.  When she caught them three years ago, they committed 
suicide rather than be arrested.  However, they made 
her promise that she would make sure that their only child didn’t grow up to be 
like them--she was manifesting powers at an early 
age.  So instead of taking her to a shelter, Moon decided to raise the girl on 
her own.  And Moon’s only 23.  Think about that.”  
Clare looked once more into the horizon of the mall.  “Yes, she’s cute.  But 
more importantly, she’s beautiful, right where it counts 
most.”  He pointed towards his heart, implying hers.      

    
     *“BURTON!  CHASE!  C’MON OUT, YOU BASTARDS!  I’M THROUGH PLAYING WITH 
YOU!”* Moon screamed into the last 
criminal-controlled section of the mall.  “You’re surrounded, boys!  C’mon out, 
now!”
     “Well, well, well.  If it ain’t the Moonie,” a voice commented.  Moon 
initially dropped into an offensive stance, then saw something 
coming her way.  She did the splits and bent down forward as low as possible, 
narrowly avoiding the stream of bullets and flames 
that came her way.  A second later, she felt herself being moved pretty much 
instantaneously--Mercury must have moved into the 
fray in time, pulling her out.  As she stopped Moon heard Mercury’s familiar 
voice asking her if she was okay.  This voice she 
ignored; Amy wouldn’t be offended, since she knew how Moon worked, and she had 
something more important on her mind at the 
moment, anyway.
    Flanked by a small squadron of henchmen, Pyromancer and Recoil stepped out 
of the front of Saks, heavily armed.  “Hiya, 
Moonie.  I’m sorry you didn’t like my little present,” Pyromancer commented.  
Strangely enough, his voice held a slight tone of 
respect for the girl in the ersatz sailor suit.
     Moon ran back to where she was, but crossed her arms and tried to be as 
unassuming as possible.  “Burton.  You know you 
can’t get away this time.”
    “Shut up, Moon!  I’m gonna walk out of here, and you can’t stop me!” 
Pyromancer bellowed, as he fired a small fireburst from his 
wrist throwers, scorching the well-polished floor.  “Hiya, sweet thing,” he 
commented, leering at Venus.
    “Get a reality check, moron,” Venus snapped.  “Your problem is that your 
head--both of them--get you in too much trouble, 
freakshow,”
    Recoil easily armed his gun at Venus’ head.  “Warm body’s a warm body, 
Venus.  No rule says you have to be alive, though it’s 
more fun.”
    “Go get bent, gunboy.”  Venus charged a Cupid’s Arrow, while Jupiter and 
Mercury readied attacks as well.  Saturn looked for an 
opening, ready to move in close as required--if the others had fire attacks 
ready, they’d be vulnerable if they somehow missed.
Meanwhile, the verbal trade between Moon and Pyromancer continued.   “Burton, 
you were given a chance,” Moon commented, her 
voice sounding like she was trying hard to lose whatever anger was present, “ 
and you fucked it up.”
    Recoil yelled at Moon, “Shut the fuck up, bitch!  He doesn’t have to explain 
this to anyone.”
    “Shut the fuck up, Chase, before I put you ten feet under.  I’ve lost my 
patience with both of you bastards, and this latest 
escapade will get you guys life at the very least.”
    “Oh, don’t worry, Ms. Lunatic Goody-two-shoes, we have every intention of 
living,” Recoil jibed,  “though you won’t.  May I 
present to you a new partner of ours, who apparently you’ve run into before, or 
so he says.  C’mon out!”


    A blur of black, purple, and indigo leapt over the Krays, and landed between 
the two of them.  Having dropped into a crouch, the 
warrior then stood up before them, his presence dripping menace.  He was 
oriental, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, 
and very well built.  His long purple hair cascaded into a ponytail just past 
his waist, and his brown eyes looked as if they would melt 
a woman’s soul.  His aquiline nose looked slightly out of place, but at the same 
time, attractive; it gave his face the merest touch of 
a Roman aspect to it.  Yet the cool, examining look that he had on his face made 
Moon feel just a bit uncomfortable.
    He looked at Moon, then finally opened his mouth, letting a deep, bassy 
voice comment in Japanese, “New look for you, Sera 
Muun?"
    Sailor Moon looked at the newcomer with a slight case of wariness, to make 
an understatement.  “What are you talking about?  
I’ve always worn either this or my winter gear.  Have we crossed paths before?  
I don’t recognize you.  You must be out of your 
mind, buddy.”
   “Oh, Senshi of the Moon,” the costumed intruder continued as he switched to 
English, “don’t you remember your old friend 
Bauxite?  We tangled in Nerima once or twice while I worked for Beryl.  You may 
not remember me too well, because she had 
those others, like my Lord Jadeite and Lord Nephrite, who fought you way more 
than I.  It’s funny, though: I don’t remember you 
being such a grim hero like you are now.”
    “What?  Who’s Beryl? Or Jadeite and Nephrite?” Moon countered.  “An’ I’ve 
never been to Japan before, either.  I think I’ll be 
taking you to the mental institute instead of the County jail.”  Sailor Moon 
began to watch her opponent, looking for any sign of an 
attack.
    “You are so different now,” he continued, pressing his opinion.  “Not as 
jovial as you used to be, though still as determined if not 
more so.  I remember you in that little sailor fuku of yours, waving your hands 
around and making that little speech of yours.  How 
did it go again?  Ah yes--something like, ‘In the name of the moon, I’ll punish 
you!’ or words to that effect, ne?”
    “So you know me from a weird battlecry and some sign language, huh?” Moon 
said, her anger fading slightly into amusement.  “I 
think I can provide one.”  Moon thought about it for a second, then as she began 
to slowly pull back her hands, and said a little 
verse:

“‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe,
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.”

    Bauxite looked at her oddly, saying, “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means you let your guard down long enough for me to do this.”  She 
thrust her hands forward, shouting, “Moonbeam!”  A blast 
of white energy erupted from the Sailor’s palms and slammed into Bauxite, 
throwing him back into the store.  Moon followed him, 
shouting back to her teammates, “I’ve got this one!  Sailors, choose your 
targets!”
    “I got candleboy,” Venus said as she darted towards Pyromancer.
    “Gun-happy’s mine!” Mercury said as she ducked under Recoil’s first volley 
of bullets.
    In turn, Jupiter and Saturn attacked the groups of henchmen, allowing the 
final battle in this war to commence.


CHAPTER FOUR: Monkeywrench
**************************

    *“What do you mean you don’t have her room ready, Darien?!?!?!”* Raye 
thundered.  *“You guys knew she was coming, 
right?!?!?!”*
    “Raye, calm down!” the guy named Darien responded, though in a softer voice 
than Raye.   However, it was clear from the way 
he was dealing with her that he’d had dealing with her before.  What was not so 
clear was the fact that the pair knew each other 
since childhood, and thus, he was used to taking the full brunt of Hurricane 
Raye.  “The computer said she wasn’t supposed to 
come until next month, Raye.  It’s a computer error.  I don’t like it any more 
than you, but as you can see, it says she’s technically 
not here yet.”
    Raye pointed a finger at Ami, then slammed her paperwork down on the desk.  
*“Does this look like she’s arrived here next 
month?  No, she’s here now!  What are ya gonna do about it?!?”*


     From where they were standing in relatively safety from Raye’s outbursts, 
Ami stared at Darien, glad that Raye’s argument was 
providing a convenient cover for her gawking at the guy at the desk. A nameplate 
on the desk gave his name: DARIEN 
CHEVALIER.  Outwardly, she was kinda stunned at the look of the situation.  
Inwardly, she was trying to get over the fact that 
Darien looked exactly like Mamoru.  ((Yet another one.  This has to be more than 
a coincidence, and yet, I’m not sensing any magic.  
I don’t get it.))
    Turning her mind temporarily to the actual scene at hand, Ami asked Cathy, 
“Is she always like this?”
    Cathy nodded an embarrassed yes.  “That’s Raye’s nature, and why, I think, 
her grandfather found her not really suited for a 
temple life.  She’s too full of fire and feistiness--it’s in her blood.  If it’s 
any consolation, I think she likes you.  She’s really going the 
distance on this one.”
    “Do you mean by now, she would have given up?” Ami could not picture her old 
friend Rei back at home doing anything this 
extreme.  A split-second later, she realized that if Rei had the same upbringing 
as Raye, she probably would be doing this as well. 
    “No,” Cathy said, shaking her head as though embarrassed to admit something.  
“I mean by now, she would have decked 
someone.  She sometimes has a hard time controlling her temper.”  Cathy shrugged 
her shoulders elegantly.
    “Aaa,” Ami said in Japanese, as a bead of perspiration settled on her azure 
eyebrow.  She tried to take her mind off the Darien-
Mamoru connection, and concentrated on the Raye-Darien one, because it suddenly 
dawned on her that if Raye didn’t succeed, 
she’d be homeless for the night.


    Meanwhile, Darien brushed the hair out of his eyes, counted to ten, then 
wished he was somewhere--*anywhere*--else.  “Look, 
Raye, you and I have known each other a long time--I’ve even put up with a lot 
of your temper tantrums--”
    *“WHAT TEMPER TANTRUMS?!?!?!?!?!?!?”*
    “--but the fact is, we weren’t expecting her until next month.  We have no 
space at all for her, and we won’t have anything until 
next month.  Raye, if there was something I could do, I would.  But I can’t.”
    Raye, to her credit, calmed down, then backed away, snarling, “If it weren’t 
for the fact that we’ve known each other for a long 
time, Darien, I swear you’d be face down on the floor bleeding by the gallon.”  
    Darien blanched at that, then smoothly commented, “And you’ve already done 
that once, Raye.”
    *That* shut Raye up immediately, as her eyes changed from angered to shocked 
in an instant.  Knowing that she could barely 
keep her temper in check, Raye pivoted on her foot, and walked out saying to her 
companions, “C’mon.  Let’s go.”  Just before 
leaving Dorm Central, she turned around once more and sadly murmured, “Darien, 
I’m--”
    Darien smiled.  “You don’t have to say it, Raye.  I’m not angry.  Like I 
said, we’ve known each other a long time, right?”
    Raye smiled, though it was clearly forced.  “Yeah.  Thanks again, Darien.”  
She stepped out of the door.


    Headed back to the car, Cathy turned to Raye.  “You still love him, don’t 
you?”  
    Raye said nothing, only looking ahead, then after a second, spoke.  “If I 
wasn’t such an ass, sometimes....  Oh, don’t get me 
wrong--I love Chad dearly, and want to spend the rest of my life with him, but 
you never forget your first love.”
    ((She was in love with him?  Just like Rei and Mamoru!))  Forcing herself to 
calm down before she got too excited, Ami said in 
Japanese, “I realize it’s none of my business, Raye-san, but if you ever want to 
talk about it....”
    Raye smiled briefly, then said, “Thanks, Ami.  Um, I need to be alone for a 
second or two.  I’ll meet you at 31 Flavors in oh, 
twenty minutes, okay?”
    Cathy put her hand on Raye’s shoulder.  “You sure you--”
    “I’ll be okay.  Really.”  The last words were punctuated by a sob.  “I’ll 
see you in a few,” she said, morosely.


    “Cathy,” Ami said, “I know it is none of my business, but is there anything 
I can do to help her?”
    “That’s really sweet of you, Ami,” Cathy replied, as the pair watched Raye 
walk off, “but the rest of our gang and I have known 
Raye all our lives--we’ve all grown up together.  None of us have been able to 
help her in this, though we’ve tried.  She just has to 
fight this alone.”  Cathy paused, then continued.  “Look, if you’re going to be 
hanging around us, I guess I’d best tell you.”
    “Are you sure it is okay to tell me?”
    “Under normal circumstances, Raye would probably be telling you herself.  
She tries to be like an open book, so people can 
understand her, and know the truth.  She doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”
    Ami frowned.  “I do not understand, Cathy.”
    “Neither have I, and I’ve known her since first grade.  What I do know is 
this: Raye’s had a lot of problems in her life.  Her parents 
disowned her when she was five years old for something that wasn’t her fault.  
Her grandfather has been raising her since, but the 
downside of that is that her parents don’t speak to him anymore, either--if it 
wasn’t for the fact that her father’s a well known 
businessman, she wouldn’t even know if they were still alive.  Tempers run 
strong in their family.
    “Raye’s problems with Darien stem from the fact that they were each others’ 
first love.  The problem was, she tended to always 
argue with him, though she loved him; he in turn was a saint and was patient and 
loving, but she couldn’t help herself.  One day, 
after a big argument, she decided to make it up to him in a way that was, shall 
we say, ill-advised.   They were a little too young, too 
ignorant of prevention, and thus a little too careless, and well....
    “When the doctor confirmed that she was pregnant, her temper was, of course, 
taken out on him--she finally lost control of herself 
and beat him senseless.  He spent a few days in the hospital for multiple 
injuries, and so did she--she miscarried.  They wanted to 
put her in a clinic, but Darien fought it--he said he should go, that he wasn’t 
a good enough boyfriend to help her.  Despite the fact 
that he loved her, the truth was that at age 15, he had no idea what to do.
     “The day they both got out of the hospital, she broke up with him.  Neither 
wanted to, but she loved him so much, she said, she 
was terrified she was going to really hurt him, and she couldn’t live with 
herself.   I remember that day, because Darien later told me 
privately that he’d spent all the money he was saving, and bought an engagement 
ring.  He’s never told her, but he was going to 
marry her, and not because she was carrying his child, but because he loved her.
    “That summer, she went away and spent some time with relatives in Japan, but 
she never told anyone--not even her grandfather; 
we were afraid she ran away, or got killed or something.  When she came back, 
Darien had begun dating Serena--Raye’s best 
friend.  To this day, Raye has never forgiven herself, because she thinks that 
she would have been Raye Chevalier by now, with her 
husband and child.
    “Nowadays, they’re both seeing other people, and honestly, I think that the 
people they’re seeing now were the ones that fate 
intended them to be with, but they still love each other.  And they’re still 
friends, but if you put them alone in a room for over five 
minutes, you never know what will happen.  One time, we left them alone for ten 
minutes, and when we came back, Darien was 
sitting alone on the other side of the room angry at himself, and Raye was on 
the couch, balled up and crying.  Another time we left 
them alone for five minutes, and when we came back, they were kissing--boy, were 
we lucky Chad or Serena weren’t there.
    “I’m telling you this because Raye trusts you--I can see it in her eyes; 
there’s something about you she likes.  Just be 
understanding and tolerant.  She tries so hard to not be as violent as she used 
to be, but she’s not perfect, and sometimes she fails.  
Miserably.  If you don’t want to associate with her, she’ll understand, but I 
think that she’s worth the risks, otherwise I wouldn’t have 
been at her side the whole time.  Sometimes, she’s like the sister I never had--
in fact, we all are; all of us, except for Serena, Alex, 
Michelle and myself, are only children.
    “Raye’s one of my dearest friends, and yet I wish I could do more.”
    Ami looked at Cathy sincerely.  “Thank you for telling me, Cathy.  I will 
try to do what I can for her.”  Cathy in turn nodded her 
appreciation, and suggested they go to the Baskin Robbins on campus; after a 
particularly painful outburst, Raye was usually found 
to be at the business end of a triple-fudge banana split.


    As they walked in ponderous silence, Ami was revising her thoughts.  The two 
raven-haired Japanese women she knew might 
look alike, and have some similarities, but there was nothing that could be 
intertwined between Raye Hino and Hino Rei.  Or any of 
the others.  ((I guess coincidences can occur on a mass scale,)) she thought, 
with a melancholy twinge.  After all, Rei and Mamoru 
were happy together; it was a shame that their apparent lookalikes couldn’t be.
    
                                    =<+>=

    They found Raye at one of the tables demolishing, as expected, the sweet; 
the remnants of three other ones sat nearby.  “I know, 
I know, Cathy,” she said, smiling a little more this time.  “I’m okay now.  I 
called Amy while you were out.  Told her the problem, and 
she says that Ami can stay with her, since her apartment’s getting a little 
lonely, anyway.”  This of course was a little white lie since 
Amy was currently “on call”, but Amy would surely check her beeper later and 
find Raye’s little explanation.
    “That’s nice, but that’s not the issue.”  Cathy pulled up a seat next to 
her, as did Ami.  “Do you want to talk about it?  Oh, by the 
way--I told Ami.  As a med student, she should probably know.”
    Raye turned momentarily to Ami.  “I’m sorry I failed in getting you your 
dorm, Ami.  I hope you don’t hate me.”
    “No!  Not at all.  I appreciate the extra effort you took.”  Ami reached 
over and took Raye’s hand.  “You tried to help me.  Let me 
try to help you, ne?”
    With the two watching, Raye then began her explanation, and once again, it 
amazed Ami on not only how frank Americans could 
be, but also the fact that she was confiding in Ami as though she was an old 
friend.  ((Or as if she was talking to Amy.  Or as if Rei 
back home was confiding in me.))
    Unaware of Ami’s thoughts, she’d begun talking.  “I had to scream at him, 
Cathy.  I just had to.  I wasn’t mad at him or anything, 
it was just that if I didn’t then I was honestly afraid that I was going to 
throw him on the ground and try to make babies with him.  
Worse, I knew he wanted the same thing.”
    “Have you two told Serena and Chad that you two still love each other?” 
Cathy asked.
    Raye shook her head.  “I can’t.  I love Chad too much, and Serena...I could 
never hurt her.  I love them both.  But the problem is, 
I love Darien, too.”  She paused, taking in Cathy’s words.  “We’ll never have an 
affair, if that’s what you’re asking, Cathy.”
    “I know that, Raye,” Cathy commented, “it’s just...I hate to see you in this 
much pain.”
    “Completely unavoidable,” she responded in a melancholy tone.  “I can’t 
control my heart any more than I can control yours.  All I 
can do is try to put it aside and move on.  At least I have Chad’s love, for 
which I’m very grateful for.”
    Ami looked at Raye and smiled, knowing that she’d be okay for the duration.  
“Raye,” she said in English for Cathy’s sake, “if you 
ever need a friend, I am always here for you.  Believe that.”
    “I do,” Raye said, earnestly.  “Thank you, Ami.  But I think this is 
something I have to work out for myself.”  Raye fished into her 
pocket and pulled out Amy’s car keys.  “Cathy, can you take her to Amy’s?  
I...need some time alone.”
    Cathy looked at her with a critical eye, and said, “You’re not gonna go 
through another three of these, are you?”
    “Well, if you want to know,” the ravenhair answered, “I was actually planing 
to go to the gym.  Eating three of these is going to do 
*wonders* for my figure unless I do a few laps around the track, right?  Trust 
me--I’ll be fine.  I can just have Chad pick me up on the 
way to the restaurant tonight.”
    “If you’re sure....” Cathy commented.  Ami had the look on her face that 
pretty much said the same thing.
    “I’ll be fine, you two.  I’m only going to the gym, right?  What more could 
go wrong?”
    “See you tonight, then.”  Cathy took the keys from Raye and with Ami in tow, 
wandered off.  As for Raye, she sat there long 
enough to finish off sundae number three, then wandered out the door, headed for 
the gym.  It wasn’t far from where they were, so 
a couple of hours on the track and some calisthenics should be fine.  Maybe if 
Scott was there, she’d even talk him into a few 
sparring sessions with him in the marital arts mat area.  He was a bushin 
expert, and her style admittedly did need some 
improvement, so he was always glad to help her out.


    From the top of the ice cream shop, a figure watched her.
    ((I’ve been waiting for this moment, my little pretty-pretty-pretty,)) he 
thought, ((and tonight you’ll be quite the dead shiela, Sailor Mars.  
Your blood will decorate the floor in my lair, and I’ll have my revenge on you, 
Raye Hino.  Oh yes, yes I will.))
    The figure tapped the air once, and it rippled.  A second later, it rippled 
again, and the figure was gone.

                                    =<+>=

Alconbury, England:
    Nestled in this quiet town was the Michelson Boarding School.  Well, at 
least it was, about an hour ago.  Now, all that remained 
of the facility was a burning wreck, as the stench of burnt timber, melted 
synthetics, and charred bodies filled the air.  In the 
distance, the wail of emergency vehicles could be heard as police and 
firefighters raced to the scene.  It wouldn’t make much of a 
difference, though; everyone inside was dead quite a long time ago, with the 
fire used only as a smokescreen.
    About a few blocks away, a person watched the scene, knowing what she’d 
done.  She stared at the column of dark black smoke 
reaching up to the sky, and a tear slid down her cheek.  She had no right to 
take the lives of those people; it was not what she’d 
been raised to do.  But desperate times called for desperate measures, or so the 
old excuse went; though she felt heavy-hearted at 
becoming a...murderer...it was something that needed to be done.  There was no 
other choice--no choice at all.
    She watched as the county morgue personnel began to wheel the remains of the 
bodies into the ambulance, all in body 
bags...and most of those body bags were small enough for children.  A child, 
such as she had once been.  A child, as she hoped to 
have one day.  Children.
    She’d killed children, though it was necessary.  
    The last time she was here, she remembered a story that one of her friends 
told her.  _Mac Beth_ was its name, and it was, 
honestly, something that was not on her list of things she would usually read.  
But one thing stuck in her mind, and that thing was 
the role of Lady Mac Beth, or more importantly, the spot on her hands.  The 
young woman now felt that very same spot on her 
hands a million times over.
    “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the souls of the dead, the ones that would 
not hear her.  “Please forgive me.”  Knowing that there 
would be no forgiveness for her even if those souls were to, she turned away 
from the burning wreckage, and began to walk down 
the street, her heart feeling heavier than anything in this world.  No one 
around would notice her, even though she was not a local; 
her magic would see to that. 
    Her magic, she thought with a trace of bitter irony.  Her magic, that had 
killed children today.  Her magic that was part of her 
birthright from her mother, a mother that had taught her to be good and kind--
something that she was no longer.  ((Mother, please 
forgive me.  I wish you were here.  I need you now.))  But no one would answer 
her silent plea, and thus, she continued to march on, 
her hair blown in the slight breeze that had just begun.
    Normally, she enjoyed her hairstyle--a pair of twin tails that looked 
vaguely reminiscent of a French Lop.  Today, they reminded 
her of the ghosts of those she damned today--specters that would probably follow 
her for the rest of her life.
    
                                    =<+>=

Vladivostok, Russia:
    In the outskirts of the main residential district of this quaint seaside 
town sat a cliff that housed a park and the local oceanarium, 
Oceanland.  One of the beautiful things about this rise was the view of the 
ocean the Russian Pacific Fleet Headquarters, not too far 
from the civic center.  There was easy access to the beach and the Ship Disco, 
and in the opposite direction lay Gypsy Park.  The 
park in itself was a beautifully manicured recreation center, which was enjoyed 
by children and adults alike.
    Today was a different story.  Today, Oceanland was a ruined mess, caved in 
and buried under a huge mound of ice.  The 
mangled, pulverized remains of dolphins, exotic fish, and other marine life were 
either frozen in the ice, or in pieces all around the 
park and adjacent street.  As the trail of destruction continued down the 
street, other strange events were noticed.  For example, 
cars had been turned into ores of silver and cobalt, and some had outright been 
turned into puddles of molten steel.  There were 
more boulders of ice to be found, next to smashed trees or caved in building 
fronts.  Something was definitely odd in this 
ramshackle town.
    On the beach, Yvegny Detrimov ran on the beach like a man possessed, or 
rather, like a man running or his life.  The reason 
became immediately clear as a boulder of ice the size of a sedan slammed into 
the sand next to him, tossing down onto the ground.  
Without even bothering to look behind him, he got up, continuing to run and 
scream for help.  Still, the huge boulders of ice came 
closer to pulverizing him at every shot.
    He managed to make it past the boating slips, when suddenly the sand below 
his feet turned into glass.  A wall of ice rose up 
before him, and even without turning around, he knew his life was over.  
Speaking in his native tongue, he turned to face his killer, 
saying, “Why are you doing this?  I have done you no wrong, and have never even 
met you before today.  I am an old man with 
nothing to look forward to in life.  You need not kill me.  Please.”  Yvegny 
dropped to his knees, blubbering like a man before his 
final judgement.  “Please, in the name of mercy, I want to live.”


    Standing over him, though he was much taller and could probably physically 
overpower her, his tormentor looked over him with 
eyes that radiated pity and sympathy.  She had dark blue hair--except for a 
single shock of silver at the front--tied in a ponytail, 
which moved like a snake in the sea breeze.  Her eyes were the color of the sea, 
except perhaps less forgiving than it. She 
appeared to be of Chinese or Japanese descent (pretty normal in this area of 
mother Russia), and had to be a local, since her 
Russian was perfect.
    She wore a bodysuit that was a uniform color of cobalt blue, save for a 
simple silvery V design in the front.  On the mandarin-
style collar of her suit was a small silvery symbol that Yvegny thought looked 
like Cyrillic or Greek, but couldn’t quite identify.  
Apparently just for decor, she wore a loose-fitting belt the same color as the 
bodysuit, adorned with a silver buckle with the same 
symbol as the collar insignia.  In her left hand she radiated pure frost; in the 
right, magical energy.  
    She spoke, and her voice was a melancholy, melodious voice, filled with an 
ages-old sorrow, and regret.  “I am sorry, but if I let 
you live, it will lead to the end of the world.  Do not ask me why; I cannot 
explain, and it will be best that way.  Simply believe me 
when I say that even though I intend to kill you, I do not wish you to think 
that I am a murderess.”
    “How can you say that?” he cried to her.  “I am a man in his late 50s, with 
no heirs or family.  I am nothing!  How can I be the one 
to spell the end of the world?”
    “Because you are one of the Survivors,” she said, sadly, “and the Survivors 
will be the ones to create the Nation of Basalt, the 
corrupt, depraved nation to drag Crystal Tokyo down to hell, to destroy the 
reestablished kingdoms.  At best, it is the end of 
everything.  At worst, it is hell incarnate.”  A tear slid down one of her 
cheeks.  “I have seen it.  I have lived there.  I have seen hell 
itself.  I come from hell, spawned from that very nation--I am an exile from my 
own world, fighting to ensure that it never comes to 
be.
    “I must do what I do because everything will end if I do not.  I must kill 
the Survivors before they begin, before Convocation 
commences.  I must kill them all, including you.”


    Yvegny looked into her eyes and saw.  Saw beyond those orbs, and into the 
future, her past.  Saw everything, and saw 
Armageddon for what it was and what it was going to be.  Billions dead, and 
things getting worse and worse, with no end in sight.  
Saw her desperate plan, that of her and her allies, to stop the madness before 
it began.  Somehow, he saw all this and more, 
something no one should ever have to see.  Somehow, he knew that she spoke true, 
for it was in her mind that she saw himself 
clearly, saw what he would become.  
    He spoke softly and quietly, as though it brought about a shattering 
revelation to the man’s soul; it was as if one morning you 
were to wake up and find that you would be known forever as history’s worst 
serial killer.  “I didn’t know I was capable...I never....”
    Knowing what he was admitting to, the girl’s tears increased.  “I am so 
sorry.  If there was another way...if there was something 
else...if only I could....”
    “So is what I saw in your eyes true?”
    She nodded.  “You know what you are, now; you know what I am.  Somehow, 
myself and my allies were spared the fate that the 
Survivors were not, though we come from the same descendants.”
    “I cannot claim to understand, but I accept what is to be,” he said, clearly 
lying yet still holding to his realization, and beginning to 
accept it.  “Will you grant me three things?”
    The girl meekly nodded, whispering, “Within reason.  Other than that, name 
your requests.”
    “One.  Promise me that if you succeed in your mission and return to where 
you are from, promise me that you will tell everyone 
that Yvegny Detrimov meant no harm to anyone.”
    The girl bobbed her head in agreement.
    Sighing, Yvegny continued.  “Two.  You must make it painless.”
    Something that was the gossamer train of a thought flashed in the girl’s 
sea-blue eyes.  “Yes.  The less pain I give you, the less 
damnation I will feel on my soul.”
    Yvegny nodded, beginning to feel oddly at peace with this decision.  
“Lastly, that I will know your name before I die.”
    She stretched her hand down, then brought him to his feet.  He looked at 
her, an old man, ready to end his life, though it came 
far sooner than he’d wished for.  A gentle sea breeze played with her hair, and 
the old man feel an odd attraction to the girl, just as 
every male black widow does to the female of its kind.  “I am not, and never 
will be, ready for this.  But for mother Russia--and for 
the sake of the world--I will live with dying.  I am ready for my death, Ms.--”
    She lovingly took his old, wrinkled face in her youthful hands, cooing, “I 
am Cobalt, the reincarnation of Morigami Chiaki of Japan, 
who is the reincarnation of the daughter of the Princess-Senshi of Mercury.”  
And with that, she leaned over and kissed him, a mere 
touching of the lips.  It was more the kiss of a child bidding her father 
farewell than a lover’s symbol or even the portent of death that 
it actually was.
    When she pulled back and it was over and Yvegny Detrimov was no more.  In 
his place was a statue of silver ore, lined with 
veins of cobalt.  The statue looked so real, it appeared as though it had been a 
person once, and the face of the statue had a smile 
on it as though it had enjoyed its last moment of life.  The statue would be all 
that was left of a harmless old man, regardless of 
what he would have been in the future.
    Her job done, Cobalt sank to the floor and wept about another life she had 
to take, not to mention the massive property damage 
that she caused and the animals that her attack had slaughtered.  When she cut 
loose with her magic on the place, she thought it to 
be an abandoned facility, an impression given off by the somewhat decayed and 
decrepit facade of the building.  She cried, 
knowing that her friends, scattered around the world as they were, were feeling 
the same thing as she.  She cried for Kaneda, who 
from his place in the heavens, must be ruing what she’d become.  Both the past 
and future selves of Cobalt/Chiaki cried out in pain, 
knowing that this killing was not by far the first, and that in order to save 
humanity from its future, she and her friends must become 
the worst group of killers in mankind’s history.  All this death and destruction 
was to come from a woman who wanted to be a 
healer.
    Healing was, after all, in her blood.  That and the magic she used to kill 
this man, the latest of many.  ((Mother--Senshi Maakyuri--
you cannot know how much I hate you and father for the powers your combined 
blood has given me.  I hate you both.  I should 
have died in the Silver Millennium and stayed dead, not reincarnated here to be 
able to kill, and not in the Basalt Nation to find out 
what I really am.))
    Standing up again, Cobalt used her magic to cast the silver statue of Yvegny 
far into the sea--there was no time to give the man 
a proper burial, and though she’d killed him, leaving him here to be slagged 
down to component silver (and thus violating his 
corpse) was too much to bear.  She wiped the sand from her bodysuit, then 
snapped her fingers, allowing an aura of magic to 
envelop her, and change her bodysuit to normal street clothes, becoming Morigami 
Chiaki once more.
    Chiaki then walked along the sandy beach, moving south with no immediate 
destination--she knew she had to get out of the area 
as authorities would begin to follow the trail she had left in her attack, and 
she did not want to be here for questioning.  More 
importantly, her next victim lay to the south, in Mongolia, and she was in no 
hurry to get there to end the person’s life anytime soon.  
Besides, who knew--maybe with the walk, she would finally come up with a way to 
stop the Survivors without committing genocide.
    She doubted it though.

                                    =<+>=

Huntington Beach:
    Ami sat down on the bed in the spare room--her new room--in Amy’s apartment.  
She looked around at the room in surprise.  For 
starters, it was bigger than her room back in Japan.  Secondly, with some minor 
adjustments, it looked exactly like the room she 
had, as well...and she had the funny feeling that if she peeked into Amy’s room, 
that girl’s room would be no different.  
    ((It’s just amazing how much our lives are alike, as if she really was my 
half-sister,)) she thought, remembering Amy’s earlier words.
    At this point, Cathy strolled in with a couple of glasses of soda, passing 
one to Ami.  “Knowing Amy like I do, as soon as she see 
you, she’s gonna apologize about the cramped conditions--”
    “Oh, no need,” Ami said, smiling.  “Honestly, this is bigger than my room 
back in Japan.”
    Cathy looked at her with a “you’re-kidding” glance, then continued, “--but 
she’s only had this place for a month or two, and I think 
she initially wanted to have this room as an office...I think it was Dr. 
Andersen who talked her out of it.”  Cathy then walked over to 
the window and opened up the curtains, letting the light stream through, and 
allowing Ami a view of the gorgeous scenery.  “It’s a 
real nice place on the harbor, and the place comes even with its own marina 
slip, though Amy doesn’t sail.  About the only bad thing 
is that you can see Seal Beach from here.”
    Ami was puzzled at that.  “Why is having a beach of seals around bad?”  
She’d seen a seal performance at Yokohama Sea 
Paradise once, and thought they were kinda playful and cute.
    Cathy giggled slightly.  “Oh, no--not that.  The place was named after 
seals, but the only ones around there now are of the Navy 
variety.  Seal Beach is a Naval Weapons Station, where they keep the nuclear 
missiles for subs--or so the rumors say.  It actually 
keeps the crime down, but the place kinda looks real ugly, just being there by 
itself.  But that’s not important.”  She pulled a trio of 
keys off Raye’s key ring and handed them to Ami.  “You’ll need these now, and 
Amy can give Raye another set later.  The brass 
one is for the deadbolt, while the steel one is for the front door.  The code 
for the front gate--both the car and the walk in--is 45056.  
And just in case you’re curious, we all have keys to everyone’s place, except 
for Raye and Chad’s, for obvious reasons.  Never 
hurts to have spares around, right?”  Ami nodded agreement.
    Cathy spoke again, adding, “Personally, I hope she asks you to stay.  You 
shouldn’t have to live in the dorm by their rules, and I 
think you’d enjoy it here more.  Amy’s a nice girl and a dear friend, and you 
two seem to have hit it off pretty well--I daresay you’ve 
been a hit with everyone so far.”
    “But I really only know yourself, Raye, and Amy,” Ami protested.  “There 
wasn’t time to get to know, um--” Ami blushed, as she’d 
forgotten the names of the other two girls, nearly saying “Minako and Makoto” 
out of habit and appearance.
    “Mina and Lita?” Cathy supplied.
    “Yes,” Amy replied, embarrassed at forgetting their names.
    “I think you’ll do fine with them, too.  Mina’s the airhead of the group, 
but she’s really a dear.  Lita tends to be a tomboy 
sometimes, but that’s life, I s’pose.  Then there are the others, but you’ll get 
to meet them later.”  Cathy set her drink down then 
said, “Let’s get you unpacked, young lady.  From that point, we’ll get ready to 
go, since tonight is your night to shine, Ami.  Southern 
Cal’s never seen the like of you before, and I doubt it ever will again.”  She 
winked and giggled.
Ami looked and thought that there was something about Cathy that reminded her of 
someone.  Admittedly, Cathy’s hair and eye 
color were the same as Chibi-Usa’s, but little Usagi had been ten the last time 
the azurehair woman had seen her, and it didn’t 
appear that Ami would ever get to see that little girl grow up.


    Cathy noticed something odd in Ami’s gaze, something that Cathy didn’t like.  
((She looks too much like Amy for my comfort--is 
that intentional?  Could someone have dropped a viper in our midst?  I’ll have 
to place her under surveillance--maybe I can redirect 
one of the Delphi satellites to track her.  Maybe it’s just nothing, and I’m 
overworrying.  But I’d rather be wrong than to be in deep 
shit.))  “Is there something wrong, Ami?”
    Ami snapped out of it instantly, cursing herself for her outward appearance.  
“I was just looking at your hair.  It reminds me a lot 
of the daughter of a friend of mine.”  ((Even though Chibi-Usa won’t exist 
now,)) Ami mentally added.  “That particular shade of pink is 
uncommon, am I correct?”
    ((Oh--that’s certainly harmless enough.  Still, best not take chances.))  “I 
guess; I’ve never really kept track.  Kid must be cute then, if 
she’s got hair like mine.”
    Ami nodded amicably, even though the mention of Chibi-Usa tore a new wound 
in her heart.  “Yes. Usagi is quite the little darling.  
Come to think of it, she also has red eyes, just like yours.”
    “Kid’ll be a looker when she grows up.”  Not sure of what else to say, Cathy 
changed the subject in the hopes that she could 
glean some information on Ami.  “So, do you plan to do anything else besides 
school?  Get a job, or do some volunteer work or 
anything like that?”
    “Well, I was planning to donate some time to the local hospitals, and maybe 
gain a hobby or two.  I have got a stipend from both the 
scholarship and my mother, so I should not need a job anytime soon.”  Ami felt 
there was no need to mention her extra stuff about 
the Sailors, since she would need a few days’ acclimation to the area before she 
began her investigations. 
    “Looks like you’ll have your hands full for a while, then,” Cathy replied.  
“Anything else that you want to see while you’re here?”
    “Mmm...probably Disneyland.  I’ve heard it looks like ours, only larger.  
And Hollywood, too--I have a friend who is in the acting 
business in Tokyo.”
    “Well, for Disneyland, I s’pose one of us girls would be glad to take you 
one day.  As for Hollywood, I’m sure Mina can show you 
around Paramount Studios, since that’s where she works.  Any place else?”
    “No, not really.  Nothing that I can think of.”  ((Or that I intend to tell 
you.))
    Cathy, deciding that (for the moment) Ami was harmless enough, eased off her 
veiled interrogation.  She then smiled and said, 
“Let me help you unpack.  Then we can hit the pool for a few hours before 
heading over to dinner, ‘kay?”  Seeing Ami nod 
agreement, the pair immediately set Ami’s bags on the bed and began to unpack.

                                   =<+>=

    Raye sat down and patted the sweat off her forehead, the towel already damp 
from her sweat.  Her workout was right on the 
mark...even though it would look to the casual observer that she still needed 
vast improvement.  Her aim, intentionally a few inches 
or so off of Scott, was true to where she wanted to hit at all times, and proved 
that while Raye Hino was mediocre at bushin, Sailor 
Mars was outright dangerous.
    Reaching over, she opened her locker, reaching to grab the toiletry bag 
inside.  A quick shower, a little time to get ready, then 
she could hop a taxi and join the others for dinner.  She was especially looking 
forward to seeing Chad, since he had that world tour 
to go on, and it would otherwise be about a few months or so before he got back.  
With the charity tour getting full into swing, he 
would be getting very little time to communicate with her, much less speak to 
her, and--
    
    “Hello, my pretty, pretty, pretty.”

    Raye froze as the voice echoed through the women’s locker room.  Her hand 
instinctively wandered towards the air, readying to 
trigger her prism transformation ring, but she pulled away.  There might be 
others in this place, and there was no need to change 
into her fighting suit anytime soon, or so she hoped.  It was times like this 
that having a secret identity was a disadvantage, and one 
she truly didn’t like.
    Furthermore, the voice sounded vaguely familiar to her.  She, while as Mars, 
heard that voice before, though she couldn’t pin it 
down.  It was just something about that voice, a voice with a foreign accent, 
that unnerved her.  Maybe it was nothing--maybe it was 
just some drunk Australian exchange student looking for his girlfriend.  Perhaps 
it was just a practical joker--you never knew what 
was going on sometimes here at UCI.  Maybe it was even--
    “Hello, my little sheila.”  The voice came from behind Raye, and she had to 
calm down before she turned around and attacked.
    The hair on the back of Raye’s neck stood on end.  ((Subspace?  But he 
should be in a Federal pen!))  She began to slowly turn 
around, hoping that she put on her best nervous face, pretending to be just Raye 
Hino, everyday Japanese-American woman.


    Sure enough, it was Subspace.  A wiry, compact Australian with long curly 
hair, the beady eyes of a weasel, a Van Dyke beard, 
and a nose broken so many times, there was no way to tell what it had originally 
looked like.  The man, with his flowing brown hair 
and eyes as black as night, was almost striking, in a miscreant sort of way.  He 
wore a shimmering tunic and pants, and also had 
some weird techno-ornaments on his belt buckle, gauntlets and such.  The overall 
effect was that he looked like a cyber-
swashbuckler.  
    Strangest of all, though was the power he radiated from his hands.  The 
power didn’t seem to radiate so much as ripple, like 
cascading circles on a still pond of reality.  Where the rings of power spread 
out, the fabric of space shivered and shimmied and 
buckled under duress, unable to take the strain that it was being made to 
undergo.
     This then, was the internationally infamous criminal Subspace, a man 
capable of bending reality to his will.  Born Julian 
Thompson, he was one of the best burglars of all time, moving from country to 
country and robbing them blind…until he took a job 
in LA and ran afoul of the Sailors.  In the course of the operation, his true 
love--his wife Amanda--was killed as a result of combat 
with Sailor Mars.  The investigators exonerated Mars, stating that the so-called 
Sailor of War had only been defending herself from 
the woman who was trying to kill her with a missile launcher.  Furthermore, Mars 
had went for a disabling blow, and it was not her 
fault that a metal pillar, weakened by a missile blast, had fallen on Amanda and 
killed her.
    Subspace, however, didn’t believe any of that.  He knew that the Sailors 
couldn’t catch him since he was way too talented for the 
likes of them, so they simply loosed their warhounds, Sailors Pluto and Mars, 
after his weak spot--his wife.  Amanda had been able 
to outwit the Sailor of Darkness, but not the Sailor of War.  There was no way 
that Amanda could have been done in by her own 
attack.  No, the truth had to be--although he never saw it--that Mars had to 
have murdered her, then dropped the pillar on her to 
cover her action.
    Well, they hadn’t counted on him breaking out of Joshua Tree Ultramax Prison 
with Recoil and Pyromancer.  They certainly didn’t 
count on him shadowing the Sailors, and last but not least, they didn’t count on 
him finding each and every one of their hidden 
identities.  Personally, he didn’t give a damn about the others--he’d just hold 
their IDs as leverage--but he wanted Raye Hino dead, 
dead, dead.  Now, finding her alone and unpowered, he knew this was his chance.
    Looking at her, he said, “Are you ready to die, Raye Hino?”


    The Japanese girl looked at the man before her as a menacing scowl covered 
his face.  Backing away from him as fear plastered 
her face, she said, “Don’t hurt me!  Don’t hurt me!”
    Subspace raised his hand, the air flickered, and in his hand appeared a 
sphere of rippling energy.  “The innocent victim act 
doesn’t do you justice, Ms. Hino.  Though I do have to say that with your 
‘preacher’s kid’ background, it’s adequate, eh?”
    Raye Hino sobbed.  “Oh, please don’t hurt me....”  Screaming at the top of 
her lungs, she bellowed, *“SOMEONE PLEASE HELP 
ME!!!!!!!!”*
    Subspace sneered his reply.  “Do you think I’m stupid, Ms. Hino?  There’s a 
subspace barrier around this building.  There’s no 
one here that can save you.  Not that you need any help, Raye Hino...or should I 
say, Sailor Mars?”
    Raye wiped a tear from her eye.  Sobbing, she asked, “There’s no one that 
can hear me?  No one that can come?”
    Subspace laughed.  “No one at all, Ms. Hino.”  The look on his face 
indicated that he was not expecting this attitude to come from 
the most violent of the Sailors.  Maybe he was wrong about her.  No matter; she 
was going to die, anyway if for only the reason that 
should she escape, the Sailors would hunt him down again.  Better to end her 
life now.
    She looked down, still crying.  She then choked out a painful, heart 
wrenching word:  “Good.”  Raye Hino looked up at him, and 
although the tears were still there, they now clearly looked false on a face 
that was now grimacing in anger.  
    “Taiyoken!”
    The red fireball slammed into Subspace, sending him flying back, crashing 
against a line of lockers.  Without even thinking, Raye 
leapt into battle, executing a flying kick at her opponent.


    As Raye attacked her opponent, her mind was a flurry of questions: ((How did 
he find out my identity?  How could I have been so 
stupid? Everyone could be in danger now, and it’s my fault.))  She idly thought 
about changing into Mars, but dismissed the notion; 
the time that it would take to change would open her up to an attack--and since 
he knew who she was and there were no others 
around, there was no need to be secretive at this point.  Her kick connected, 
and slammed him deeper into the metal of the lockers.  
    Before she could follow up on her attack, he shimmered and slipped into the 
dimension that was so much his element.  Raye 
stood there, quietly listening for the first opportunity that her foe would 
counter attack.  “C’mon out!  Or are you afraid to face me, 
Subspace?”
    “Why should I be afraid to face you, Mars?  After all, it was you who killed 
my wife!”  The voice came from everywhere and 
nowhere.  “You murdered her in cold blood, you bitch!  Now you’ll die, painfully 
and slowly!”
    “I did no such thing, and you know it!” Raye screamed, bringing her aura to 
full intensity, and wishing she had *some* time to 
switch to her battle gear, which would have certainly afforded her more 
protection than her tank top and gym shorts.  Still, that 
moment’s hesitation would leave her vulnerable, and if there was one thing Raye 
didn’t like, it was being vulnerable.  “Your wife was 
trying to kill me using Stinger missiles!   She did herself in, for cryin’ out 
loud!  If there’s anyone to blame, it’s her own fault for being 
as bad a criminal as you!”
    There was an inhuman cry, and a ripple of space.  Subspace appeared just 
above her, dropping down and wielding a set of low-
yield grenades.  With little time to spare, Raye leapt to the top of the nearest 
row of lockers and scrambled two rows down, dropping 
behind another set as the grenades went off, destroying everything in the 
vicinity of where she was a few minutes ago.  Just about 
everything in her gym locker had been destroyed, but at least she was alive, 
well, and still able to fight.
As the boom echoed in the room and in her ears, she could hear Subspace’s 
inhuman laughter calling out, “Would you care to play 
some more, sheila?  Or is this where you simply lay down and die?  I’m eager to 
hear your response.”


    She gave him her response.  Up close and personal.  Flipping over the 
lockers she’d just cleared less than a minute earlier, she 
assaulted him with a diving kick, then as she landed, turned and executed a 
flawless elbow strike.  He swung and missed, allowing 
her to grab his arm and pulling him forward into a nasty uppercut.  As he reeled 
back from the punch, the air rippled behind him 
once more, and he’d teleported into another part of the locker room.
    “You chickenshit bastard!” she screamed, her anger rising by the minute, her 
voice giving proof to an angry crescendo.  She 
punched a locker in her fury, easily denting it.  “C’mon out, Subspace!”  Not 
clearly thinking as her familiar blinding anger rose to the 
forefront, she shouted, “If you’re not gonna come out of hiding, then I’m gonna 
remove your hiding location!”  Channeling her power 
as her battle aura came to the forefront, she pulled back her hands and began to 
form a sphere of red energy between them, even 
as she ran to one corner of the room to loose her attack.
    Once there, she roared, “you had your chance to surrender, Subspace!  Now 
feel some pain!  *Shin Akaridama!*”  With that 
pronouncement, she cut loose with a massive beam that tore through the entire 
locker room.  Lockers were slagged by the force of 
Raye’s beam, and the wall that was at the end of the assault was cratered by the 
sheer force of the blow.  The temperature of the 
room went up about 30 degrees before the air-conditioning shorted out, and when 
it was over, Raye stood in a room filled with 
slagged metal, burnt paint, blasted tiles, burst piping, and the ashen remnants 
of the benches in the gym.  However, there was no 
sign of her foe.
    “Where the hell are you, damn you?” she seethed, moving forward and wary for 
an attack to come at any moment.  Sweat rolled 
down her in cascades, a result from the mixture heat and exertion.  Normally, 
she’d be fine, but she was already worn out from her 
earlier workout, and seriously could have used a hot shower to work out the 
kinks in her muscles.  Now, the only advantage she had 
was that the steam from the damaged pipes was helping to lower the overall 
temperature of the room, and that no innocents were 
harmed
    Apparently, though, what Subspace had said earlier was true: he’d placed the 
locker room in a subspace barrier, which meant 
that anything that managed to get past the barrier was lost to subspace; 
technically, the room she was in was located in another 
dimension.  She wasn’t impressed.  “Come on out, you dipshit!  It’s gonna take 
more than parlor tricks to stop me!”  She stopped, 
and the room fell silent, save for the dripping of condensation and the sound of 
her heavy breathing.
    In a soft but sharp voice, she commented, “Your wife didn’t kill me, 
Subspace.  Can you do better?”        


    “If you insist.”  His voice rung behind her as Raye suddenly felt a sharp 
blow to the back of her head.  Fortunately she had just 
enough of a warning to duck the majority of the blow that would have otherwise 
taken her out.  Dropping to the ground, she did a 
quick footsweep that he leapt over.  Kippup-ing back to her feet, she dashed 
forward like a predator on the hunt.  Subspace 
however, took the notion, leapt over her and as he landed, threw a snap kick at 
her.  She expected this and pirouetted while 
dropping below the attack, then came up hard with an elbow jab, and as he backed 
off, a rapid-fire punch attack.   As her fists 
continued the onslaught, it seemed as though for a minute that she would win.  
However, his hand drifted to her shoulder as he 
called out, “Soulwarp.”
    At once, every cell in Raye’s body seemed to explode and implode 
simultaneously, internally tearing her apart.  The pain, rippling 
up and down her body, woofed and warped through her body as he continued to pour 
more and more power into the energy attack, 
hoping that the assault would completely tear her apart.  Unable even to scream, 
she felt every iota of her power overloading inside 
her, each molecule in her body a nuclear reactor approaching critical mass.  If 
she were to explode now, the total energy release 
would make Hiroshima and Nagasaki seem like a pair of firecrackers.
    Subspace knew this, and as he began to feel slight flushback from his attack 
on Raye, he released the hold and cut off his 
energy flow.  Within Raye, most of her body functions returned to normal, except 
that her already-strained nervous system couldn’t 
handle any more, so it did the wise thing and shut down, placing Raye into a 
well-needed state of unconsciousness.  As her body 
began to return to normal levels, Subspace laughed.  “Bloody bitch.  When I’m 
through with you, you’ll wish you died from that 
missile blast.”
    Reaching into the immaterial dimension that was his namesake, he pulled out 
two pairs of handcuffs, which he used on her wrists 
and ankles.  He then picked up the unconscious woman, and hoisting her over his 
shoulder, he commented, “Oh yes, we must 
cover our trail, lest your friends attempt to rescue you ‘fore you’re good and 
dead.”  He reached into subspace once more, and 
procured an unmarked package.  He tapped it once on the side, and the package 
emitted a single soft beep.  
    He waved his hand once, and the room momentarily glowed, bathed in a hazy 
light.  Then the light disappeared, and the room 
began to groan and crack as the structural integrity of the room, previously 
held in place only by the subspace barrier, began to 
come apart at the seams; the room would either fall apart in the next few 
minutes, or….  Subspace had no intention of sticking 
around for that second option.  He simply tapped the air once, and with a 
familiar ripple of the sky, he--and his quarry--were gone.


    A second later, the package detonated, destroying the locker room and the 
adjacent gym, taking the lives of the hundred or so 
going about their daily business.

                                    =<+>=

    Michiru woke up, sleeping in late this morning--an unusual event for her.  
She probably would have slept in later, but for the 
sudden jolt in her mind.  Snapping awake, she noted that Haruka was not there, 
then remembered that Haruka had to leave early 
that morning for an appointment.  Still attentive to her lover, the blonde had 
left a single flared rose--not the type Mamoru used--for 
Michiru.  Michiru took it in her hands and gracefully smelled its scent, 
thinking idly of her--

((--Dark angel with black wings rising into the sky on the hunt for its newest 
victim--))

    --Michiru dropped the rose in surprise as the image filled her mind again, 
with a much clearer level of vision: a terribly, horribly 
clearer vision.  The vision burned into her mind like a firebrand that would 
not, could not be denied; it would remain there until 
removed by further revelation.  Ignoring the rose, Michiru held her hand out, 
and a second later, the Deep Aqua Mirror was at her 
disposal.  Peering into its depths, she searched for the answer to the flash of 
dark dreams that vexed her.
    Within the glass of the mystic object, the following was seen.  An image of 
Mamoru/Endymion.  An image of Beryl.  A visual of 
DNA helixes being snapped and recombined, of being fused into something new.  An 
image of a young woman who looked vaguely 
like Ami, only with a sorrowful look on her face, and with long hair a darker 
shade of blue than Ami’s.  An image of Setsuna.  An 
image of someone she didn’t know.  An image of a woman that bore a resemblance 
to Haruka, except for the curly lime hair and the 
black wings--this was the person she saw in her dream.  An image of an American 
black woman, with hair a light shade of pink and 
red eyes.  An image of herself.  An image of a man they knew to be a Moon 
Kingdom reincarnation.  An image of a woman that 
could have been mistaken for Beryl, except for the smile in her eyes and the 
rainbow-like power she was radiating.  An image of a 
building made of a black material; the building shape was vague and undefined, 
but its presence projected darkness and hatred.  
An image of Crystal Tokyo, its gloss and gleam dulled by something that couldn’t 
easily be described.
    The images went on and on, with no rhyme or reason.  Michiru was gaining a 
headache just trying to understand any of it.  ((I don’t 
understand it, but something must be interfering with the mirror.))  She shook 
her head at this thought; such events were simply 
unheard of.  
    ((Still,)) she conceded, ((it has to mean something.  Maybe I should talk it 
over with the others.  They may have an idea of what to do 
in this case.))  Nothing further to add, she got up and headed to the shower, 
ready to begin her day.  She had to get a hold of 
Setsuna, Rei and Minako, and decide on a course of action.