For Love and Justice

                                  Part III

                  by LeVar Bouyer (ldbouyer@earthlink.net)


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	A long pause.  "I'm sorry."

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

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

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

	Hotaru simply stared.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	Katsumi blinked.  "For real?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Junko."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Aye, ma'am," he replied.

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

	"Ma'am, I-"

	"Do it, Genda-san."

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

	"Sailor America?"

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

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

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

	"Eileen . . . ."

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	She loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Answer?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"YUSUKE!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"It's a secret, okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Yes."

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

	"Great," murmured Yoshii.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

	"You *what*!"  Achika was aghast.

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

	"And?" prompted Yusuke.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Sure.  Join the party."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Oh, good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Which leaves you and Pluto."

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

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

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

	"No.  I have something different in mind."

	"Different?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Sorry!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Well, why not let Sailor Pluto teach?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Which?"

	"Sailor Mercury will be male."

	There followed a long pause.

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

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

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

	Queen Serenity II smiled.  "Says who?"

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

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

	"I'm sure Sailor Mercury-"

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

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

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

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

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

	"What do you need me to do?"


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Ma'am?  It's Kim."

	"Kim?  You're not on today."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Coming back?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Anything else, ma'am?"

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

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

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

	"So long, ma'am."

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

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

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

	"She really knows how to make an exit."


Planetary Defense Headquarters
16:29 Nagano-2 Standard Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	Eileen blinked.  "You're kidding."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"What, and Queenie picks the other?"

	"No.  The other is male."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Out of a hat, probably."

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

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

	"I had a good teacher."

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

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

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

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

	Perhaps it would be fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Are you sure about that?"

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

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

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

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

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

	"Interesting theory," said Saturn carefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

	Jen sighed.  "Okay.  Any advice?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

	Eileen bowed from her seat.  "Thank you."

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

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

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

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

	"Achika," Jen said without hesitation.

	Eileen frowned.  "You sure?"

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

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

	"Probably."

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

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

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

	"There's one way to find out."

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

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

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

	"That would be cheating."

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

	"Oh, that's good."

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Yes?"

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

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

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

	"Maybe you could ask Jen for an extension?"

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

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

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

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

	"Would you like any help?"

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

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

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

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

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

	"Um, what kind of prestige?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"I won't, Pearcy-san."

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

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

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

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

	"Eileen?"  

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

	"Just a bit worried.  You looked distracted."

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

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

	"Yep."

	"Did the subject of Sailor Uranus come up?"

	"Not as such," said Eileen carefully.

	"Eileen . . . ."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"No they won't."

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

	Jen shrugged.  "What about Uranus and Neptune?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

	Achika jumped at the voice.  Turning, she saw Dr. Sakachi standing
motionless in the sea of students leaving the building for the day.  It was
an od