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Episode #106:  Acceleration[s]
Reel 1
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	Isao Sakachi, father of Jennifer Sakachi, reclined in his chair. 
His daughter had been at the School for a couple of months now, and things
seemed to be going rather well for her.  As for him . . . opinions differed.

	He was currently onboard H.M.S. Pleiades, more specifically about
750,000 kilometers from Earth, at an acceleration of 9.8 meters per second
squared.  To a layman, this meant that the ship was traveling such that if
you let something go, it would fall to the wall just as fast as if it were
falling to the ground on Earth.  Assuming, of course, that you were in one
of the many sections of the ship that had yet to be finished, and
therefore lacked artificial gravity.

	However, the only reason he even had the opportunity to recline
where he was, in what would eventually become the captain's quarters, was
that a series of rather suspicious accidents had befallen those in higher
positions.  No-one suspected him of anything; in fact, he had vociferously
objected to each and every promotion he had been given as a result of
accidents, terrorist attacks, and the like.  In spite of this, or one could
say because of this, he had advanced from just being a section manager to
being site manager for the entire Pleiades project.  This included his
current task: make sure that Pleiades made it to Mars for Fold outfitting
without the hundred or so technicians killing each other.  It was far from
easy.

	And the main reason it was far from easy was walking through the
door.

***

	Ignorant of her father's problems, Jen walked into her room at the
School after a hard day's classes, and one class still left.

	"Eileen-san?"  She wasn't readily visible, and Jen didn't want to
interrupt anything.  "Are you here?"

	"No!"

	"Oh, okay."  Jen set down her books and flopped down on her bed. 
Eileen emerged from the bathroom dressed in a robe, with a towel wrapped
about her head.

	"How was school?" Eileen asked playfully, going through her drawers
to find something to wear.  Jen let her eyes wander before replying.

	"Ok, I guess.  Nothing particularly mind-blowing.  Challenging, but
not impossible." Those four words were being said a lot around campus; the
teachers were perhaps the most clueful around.  Knowing that the
administration and the senshi were often at odds, and that this filtered
down to the students, the teachers made the first couple of months
relatively easy.  No combat courses would be taught for a few more months,
and really math-intensive classes weren't for a few more weeks.

	"Yep," Eileen replied.  "Same here."  She produced a pair of running
shorts and commenced putting them on.  Eileen was taking an intensive
Japanese course to bone up on the language, since she still spoke in a
highly personalized English/Japanese blend.  It ended a good half hour
before Jen's previous class, Ordinary Differential Equations, which
accounted for her being there before Jen.

	"Where do you think you're going?" asked Jen with surprise.  Since
the Sailor V debacle a few weeks back, Eileen hadn't gone out much, which
worried Jen a bit.  It wasn't like her to be inside so much, and-

	"To the gym," answered Eileen, breaking in on Jen's thoughts. 
"Thought I'd get rid of some of this flab, you know?" She grabbed a handful
of her side, or rather tried.  Actually, she was rather well built, and
didn't have much fat to speak of.  Jen told her as much.

	"Oh, come now Eileen-san, you're in great shape!  I bet those
American guys were falling all over you!"

	"Not really."  She pulled on a tank top and looked about for a
sweatshirt.  "All the guys back home went for blondes."

	There was a pause, during which Jen could feel the hurt emanating
from her friend.  "Didn't you have any boyfriends?"

	"No.  They never gave me a second look."  And vice versa, she
thought. Then a mischievous grin flashed across her face.  "Do you have any
boyfriends?"

	"No."  She sighed.  "Nobody likes a history nut, and the fact that
I'm so damned ugly didn't help."

	"Jen-chan!  How could you?  I'll have you know that you look
beautiful."

	"Really?"

	"Really!  Really Jen, I mean sure, there are a lot of people around
here who dye their hair just to get away from black, but you're a natural
redhead."

	"How'd you . . . oh."

	"Yep.  You've got natural hair, your face has a great complexion,
you've got a better build than I do, and then you say you're ugly?"

	"Well . . . "

	"C'mon, I wanna show you something."

***

	"Ah, Sakachi-san.  Working late, are we?"

	Isao wanted to kick him.  His name was Tani Souchi, and he was head
of computer design for Pleiades.  As such, he was under enormous pressure.

	The staff geniuses at HQ had decided that Antares would be installed
en route to Mars.  The fact that Antares happened to be a brand new and
extremely sensitive AI was irrelevant to them, as was the fact that a
million things requiring Earth assistance could go wrong.

	Souchi had done a lot of the initial work programming Antares, and
regarded the computer as his baby.  Therefore, whenever something happened
to upset his work schedule (which on Pleiades happened daily), he got upset
and made the trek to Sakachi's office, which was where he was now.  Sakachi
refrained from hitting him, and instead decided to stare him down.

	"A project manager's work is never done, Souchi-san."

	"And neither is a section leader's.  You aren't too far removed from
your old position, you know."

	Don't I know it.  "Let's get down to it, shall we?  What's your
problem now?"

	"My problem is that Antares's room is currently open to space."

	"Ah, yes.  We've had to do some patch work in that sector, and the
heat sink has had to be removed for the moment."

	"Yes, but you don't seem to understand.  Antares's components simply
cannot be exposed to vacuum for such a period of time."

	Sakachi muttered a comment about bovine excrement.

	"What was that?"

	"I said, Souchi-san," he said louder, "that the plans called for
Antares to be vacuum rated to an exposure of 3 attotorrs for a period of a
week.  Need I remind you that it is supposed to withstand a vacuum for up to
four days with no adverse effects?  Or have you cut corners once again?!?"

	Souchi visibly restrained himself.  "And need I remind *you* that if
the slightest bit of harm comes to Antares, the future crew of this ship
will be jeopardized?  If your precious daughter beats all the odds and
becomes a senshi, I don't think you need to be reminded that she will, in
all likelihood, command this ship.  And I would hope that you care more
about her than to give her a defective vessel!"

	"Sakachi-san?" blared the speaker on the desk.  "Message for you. 
It's from your wife on Earth."

	'Saved by the bell,' he thought.  "I think, Souchi-san, that you had
better recheck your figures on vacuum.  I will not speed up work and expose
my workers to greater risk.  Now, if you'll excuse me . . . Ah, hi dear!"

	Souchi spun on his heel and stiffly walked out.

	"No, no, everything's fine."

	"Are you sure?"

	"Well . . . " He checked to make sure Souchi had left.  "To tell the
truth, things are falling apart here.  I'm starting to lose respect, we're
weeks behind schedule, with the brass slated to come up on arrival . . . but
enough of that.  How's Jen?"

	His face brightened as his wife spoke.  "Oh, she's doing just fine. 
She says that she's got a great roommate; they seem to have really hit it
off." A little selective editing won't hurt his mood, she thought.

	"Really?  Splendid!  Tell her that she can call up here anytime.  In
fact, I think I'll call her!"

	"Okay."

	"Call you tomorrow, okay?  Love you!"

	He punched one button, then pressed another, all thoughts of Souchi
swept from his mind.

***

	Outside, fall was gradually yielding to winter, but the indoor track
was quite warm.  Jen and Eileen found it rather nice for a friendly jog.  Or
at least, that was how it started.  At some point it stopped being a form of
exercise and turned into a marathon.  They were at seven kilometers now, and
showed no signs of stopping.

	The reason was rather simple.  Following their pity-party in their
room, neither found it acceptable to lose face by giving up before the
other.  Therefore, a simple 1600 meter run turned into a distance battle. 
Neither was very good at distance running, and both would have given their
scholarships to be able to stop.  The fact that neither knew what the other
was thinking was the only thing that kept them going.  Of course, neither of
them knew it.

	"Can't . . . stop . . . now . . . if . . . do . . . never . . . ear
. . .  end . . . it," Jen gasped.

	"Do . . . for . . . u . . . s . . . a . . . can't . . . give . . . 
now . . . never," Eileen panted.

	By now they had begun to attract attention; about a dozen students
had stopped their workouts and were merely watching while Marvin kept them
apprised of the latest split times.  At the eight kilometer mark, they began
shouting encouragement.

	"Didn't . . . know . . . had . . . audience," Jen observed, blinking
away the sweat that liberally flowed from her brow into her eyes.  Chancing
a sharp glance, she found that Eileen was still right behind her.

	"Better . . . to . . . encour . . . age . . . glad . . . ators."

	"Really?

	"Yeah."

	They made the nth turn.  By now, they were two hundred meters from
the ten kilometer mark, and Jen's legs were starting to get rubbery.  'Can't
fall apart now,' she thought.  Her body ignored her as she began to fall,
inadvertently taking out Eileen in the process.  The crowd gasped.  The
runners didn't; they lacked the breath.

	The two lay there, intertwined.  Neither spoke for a long moment, as
they sucked in air like two women who had narrowly missed drowning. 
Finally, Jen managed enough breath to say something.

	"Uh, Eileen-san?"

	"Yeah?"

	"Do you mind getting your butt out of my face?"

	"Sorry."

	Neither moved.

	"Today, perhaps?"

	Slowly and reluctantly, they separated from each other to flop on
the infield.  Someone ran up to them.

	"You guys okay?"

	Jen tried to focus her eyes.  It appeared to be her teacher for the
next class, World History D, which covered everything from the Black Moon
War to the present day.  Needless to say, it was one of Jen's favorite
classes.

	"Mitsuyabi-sensei! Konnichi wa!  Sorry, but you're not catching me
at my best."

	Her teacher nodded. "I see.  And you, Pearcy-chan?"

	"Oh, I'm fine, Ms. Mitsuyabi.  Just getting a little jog in before
class, you know?"

	"Oh, yes.  Sometimes I try to do that myself."  She sighed. 
"Unfortunately, time seems to bit a bit short."

	"Is it?" asked Jen, puzzled.  "I was pretty sure that we'd have
enough time to get in the run, get back to our room, shower, and get to
cl--oh dear." She looked at her watch.  "That run seems to have run a bit
too long."

	"It's okay," said Mitsuyabi as Jen began to worry, "I was going to
start class a bit late today anyway."

	"Oh."

	"I was watching you for a bit.  Do you always turn a workout into a
marathon?"

	"Not always," answered Eileen.  "Usually try to avoid it, but you
know, one thing and another and . . . well . . . "

	"Ah.  Well, I expect to start class in forty minutes.  I expect you
to make the best possible use of that time, understood?"

	Despite their disheveled state, they managed to stand and bow.

	"Yes, Mitsuyabi-sensei."

***

	Isao punched the comset again.  Upon calling the School, Marvin had
informed him that Jen could not be reached at that time.

	"Damn."  He'd really wanted to speak to her, see how she was doing. 
He had two children: Jen and Pleiades.  He would lose Pleiades in a few
months, and he had already lost Jen to the duties of a future senshi.  But
he still wanted to hang on to her for a bit longer.

	"Oh well."  He was a bit agitated.  A brisk walk would do him some
good.  Especially since the bridge outfitters wouldn't be expecting a
surprise inspection.  He walked out the door and made it about eight meters
before running into another problem.

	"Ah, Beckett-san."  Henri Beckett was the French chief of
engineering design.  He was the closest thing to an engine expert Pleiades
would have, Sakachi thought, and that wasn't saying much.  How one person
managed to pull off the stereotypical arrogance of the French with such
panache was beyond his comprehension.

	"Mr. Sakachi.  I hear that you will be requiring 110% from #2
tomorrow?"

	Sakachi grimaced.  An English translation of the technobabble that
had spouted from Beckett would go something like this: "I heard that you're
going to deliberately exceed safety limits on fusion power plant number 2. 
Despite the fact that engines are intentionally designed so that one can go
far beyond that for extended periods, I think that I own the power plant in
question.  Therefore, I am going to do my level best to make an ass of
myself by telling you that I won't do it."

	Say whatever one liked about Beckett, but one had to admit that he
managed to convey a lot with just a few words.

	"Yes, Beckett-san," Sakachi replied, underscoring the honorific. 
Beckett spoke immaculate Japanese, actually, and the fact that he always
ignored the -san annoyed Sakachi to no end.  "Souchi-san will be running
some additional tests on Antares, and he'll need the power."

	"Ah.  And I'm supposed to just stand by and let this madman melt
down a highly irreplaceable fusion reactor so he can go wank with his
computer?"

	Isao sighed.  This was what it inevitably came to.  Beckett and
Souchi hated each other with a vengeance.  The differences were many, from
ideas on government to management to sports teams.  Neither was known to go
anywhere near each other's respective departments, and they *never* spoke to
each other.  The last time had been about twelve minutes out of Earth orbit,
and had ended with both laid up in the infirmary.

	Sakachi honestly believed that one of the two would die in the next
meeting, and that was the main reason he put up with their ravings.  As a
go-between, Sakachi was able to soften the long-distance blows dealt each
other.  Therefore, he simply absorbed the abuse Beckett heaped on Souchi,
just as he would probably absorb abuse from Souchi on Beckett.

	"Beckett-san, the schedule has been posted for the past week.  I'd
say that it's a bit late to lodge a complaint."

	"The hell it is!  If Souchi-"

	"The test is tomorrow.  I'll get the energy from the reactor or you,
but he will have the energy.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have a tour to
make."

	"Oh, do you now?"

	Sakachi ignored him as he made his way to the bridge.  Once there,
he simply stood in the doorway (the door still wasn't installed) and watched
as a couple men laid down the dark blue carpet.  Most of the consoles were
installed, and the captain's chair was in a corner.  He noted with amusement
that it was still in the original plastic wrapping.  My daughter will have
that seat, he wished.

	"SAKACHI!"

	He looked up from his reverie to see twin Armageddon, in the form of
Souchi and Beckett bearing down on him from opposite sides.  They hadn't
seen each other.

	Yet.

	"You!"

	"You!"

	"Security!" bellowed Isao, with the full knowledge of how much
security a three-fourths done starship had.

***

	"And thus we come to the beginnings of the Second Sailor Wars.  The
first, you will recall, were caused by the aspirations of Sailor Galaxia
towards domination of our Milky Way Galaxy." Mitsuyabi paced as she spoke,
with Jen and Eileen the most attentive towards her words.

	"That war, won by then-Sailor Moon, was called that because . . . ?"

	A student answered.  This was followed by a bit more talking,
followed by another question.  Such was the way virtually all academic
classes were taught at the School.  The Socratic Method had its greatest
fans there, and the payoff was the weeding out of so many students: twelve
had already flunked out.  True, flunking out of the School was a bit like
being thrown out of a casino after winning several million dollars, but
there was still a bit of a stigma.

	Class continued, and ended.  Jen and Eileen wrote some last notes
and began to pack up.  The 18:00 class was the last of the day, and they
had the rest of the night to do whatever they pleased within the rules, as
Eileen had found first-hand.  Now, they would probably do some studying,
perhaps even watch a World Cup football match.  Japan was in for the first
time since 2974, and was doing quite well.

	Eileen, however, had other plans.

	"Mitsuyabi-sensei?"

	"Yes?" came the reply.  Mitsuyabi was putting her things away as well.

	"Would you care to join us tonight?  We were going to discuss the
history of-"

	"I'm sure she would," interjected Eileen, "but we have other, more 
*pressing* matters to attend to, which she is not aware of."

	"We do?" asked Jen.  She was still sore from their race, and she
just wanted to lie back and exercise her mind.

	"Yes!" she replied forcefully.

	"Well, I'm sure we can discuss things at another time," said their 
teacher.

	"Of course," said Jen, who was still trying to figure out where
Eileen was coming from.

	"Of course," echoed Eileen, who was also trying to figure out where
Eileen was coming from.

***

	Some time later, the Dynamic History Duo was in its room, one in
considerable pain.  The soreness in Jen's back had developed into a
full-blown cramp, and she was beginning to wish that the School's vast
amenities included a masseuse.  She could definitely use one.

	"Still hurting, huh?" asked Eileen from her computer, where she was
catching up on the news.  "Well, says here that your dad's ship is about
halfway to Mars.  Should hear from him soon."

	"I guess so."

	Eileen winced at the pain in her voice.  "You need me to help you
out, Jen-chan?"

	"How?  Got any painkillers?" replied Jen from her bed.

	"Better.  Take off that shirt and roll over."

	Jen did as requested, and lay face-down on the bed.  "What are you
going to do, perform surgery?"

	"I think you'll like this better."  Her hands began to knead Jen's
aching back.

	"Hey, you're pretty good at this!"

	"Well, my dad's an orthopedist."

	"Really?  I didn't know!"

	"You never asked."

	Eileen continued for a few minutes, and Jen felt the pain wash away
like ice in the bright sunshine.

	"Jen-chan?"

	"What is it?"

	"How much do you know about me?  Really?"

	Jen bit her lower lip.  "Um, other than that you're from
Pennsylvania, you love history almost as much as I do, you can't stand
basketball, you-"

	"No, not that kind of thing.  I mean like . . . like having two
brothers who idolized you.  Like carrying the expectations of your entire
hometown. *Before* the Exam.  Do you know how many North Americans even take
it, let alone pass?

	"After the Exam, everyone on the continent was pulling for me."  She
began speaking faster.  "I had enough trouble getting dates to start with,
but now?  Who wants to start a relationship when you're going to leave in a
couple of days anyway?  Especially when I'm smarter than her?  I mean-"

	"Her?  And don't stop; I think I'm addicted with this."

	Eileen coughed to cover her gaffe.  "Yeah, her.  I suppose I should
have told you this earlier, but I'm . . . I'm . . . "

	"Yes?"

	"Dammit Jen, do y'know how hard this is?" she demanded, her bubbly
exterior gone.  "I've admitted this . . . this to one person before, and I
swore it would never happen again.  and now you go and respond like, like,
like you're-"

	"I told you not to stop.  I'm feeling fine for the first time all
day."

	"You can't be!"

	"I didn't know, until now."  Jen turned over to look Eileen in the
eyes.

	"Oh no, Jen, this is all too fast!"

	"With all due respect," said Jen playfully, "if now isn't the time
after all these weeks, when will it be?" She sat up.  "Believe me, I
wouldn't be doing this for the first time if I wasn't sure."

	"You mean you've never-"

	"Nope.  You?"

	"No."

	"Fine.  We'll figure something out."

	They kissed.

***

	Isao Sakachi, father of Jennifer Sakachi, reclined in his chair. 
His daughter had been at the School for a couple of months now, and things
seemed to be going rather well for her.  And now, after averting a
full-pitched battle between two of the three highest ranking people aboard,
he felt like calling his daughter.

	He had caught virtually no sleep that night, and had merely dozed in
his chair.  That was probably why he made the call then; he hadn't had the
forethought to check the time difference between Japan and ship's time,
which was in theory based on Greenwich.  He just punched the button, and
waited for the various computers involved in interplanetary communications
to do their work.

***

	Jen moaned and rolled over a bit at the ringing of the phone.  She
had decided that having Marvin announce her calls was too eerie, and had
told him to just let the phone ring.  Marvin, however, decided from her
verbal cues that she wanted him to pick up automatically.  Visual cues were
not his forte, so he just flipped on the main screen by the console.  By
fate, chance, or whatever, it directly faced the bed.

	"I'll get it," murmured Jen sleepily, trying to extricate herself
from Eileen's embrace.

	She was too late.

***

	The screen flashed "MESSAGE RECEIVED," and Isao waited for his only
daughter's face to appear.  It did.

	He had not, however, been waiting to see Jen's roommate wrapped
around her.

	"Jen?"

	She blinked a bit, recognized who was on the screen, realized her
current situation, and came to a simple, yet accurate, evaluation.

	"Oh boy."