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Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion
A fairly original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer
Episode #301:  And Let There Be No Moaning of the Bar 
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Giza, Egypt, Arab Union
3 January 3035 CE

	"Are you all right, Madam Vice-President?"

	"Fine, just fine," said Emily Martin, Vice-President of the newly-
renamed American Confederation.  She stopped for a moment, though, and
turned to look back on how much ground she had covered.  She, a couple of
bodyguards, and the vice-president of the Southeast Asian Alliance with his
bodyguards, were now three-quarters of the way up one of the oldest man-made
structures surviving in the world.

	The Great Pyramid of Giza loomed over the desert.  Six thousand
years had passed since it had been commissioned, six thousand years that had
not been kind to it by any means.  The original limestone casing had long
ago been taken away, as had many of the stones that had made up its
courtyard.  Inside, it was a home for bats, rats, tourists, and a few
egyptologists still trying to unravel secrets of the pyramid which had
remained a mystery for seemingly forever.

	They climbed on.  A few minutes later they stood at the apex. 
Before them lay the two other pyramids of the Giza complex.  A little bit
away was the Great Sphinx, and with a good eye they would have been able to
see the ruins of Giza, and a bit beyond it the new city of Cairo.

	"Amazing, isn't it?" asked Edward Lansing, from the SEAA.  "I mean,
when you think about the age of this thing . . . it was ancient back in the
twentieth!"

	"Yes," said Martin in Japanese.  She waved her hand when a couple of
the bodyguards gave her strange looks.  "Old habits die hard." She, like
everyone else who wanted to get anywhere in the world, spoke fluent English
and Japanese.  The first was easy; she was from Rhode Island after all.  The
second was also fairly easy, given the dealings she constantly had with
Japanese officials.

	Sometimes she thought how absurd it was that such a tiny country
held such sway over the Earth.  Others had wondered that as well, and that
was why she was in Giza and not back home enjoying the New England winter.

	"You know, that's one of the things we're going to have to get used 
to.  I know some people on my staff who still aren't above a fourth grade 
English reading level."

	"Language is the least of my concerns," said Martin sharply.  She
sat down on one of the stones and sipped cold iced tea from a canteen.  "I'm
worried about the pyramid."

	"What?"

	"Buckingham Palace was supposed to last forever.  So were the World
Trade Center towers.  So was the Vatican.  Now, they've all been dust and
gone for hundreds of years.  All because we had to go and fight wars.

	"Now . . . I don't know.  They say over and over that we can win, 
but . . . will the cost be the pyramid?"

	Lansing sighed.  He was probably one of the most frightened people
in the world.  For years he'd lived with the knowledge that a near-
omnipotent woman was running a monarchy due north of his confederation.  He,
more than perhaps anyone else on the newly-formed World Council, knew just
how strong Serenity had grown.  Not even China, it seemed, recognized her
true strength.  Now they were going to do it and his military people put
odds of success around sixty percent.  He didn't like staking the future of
the Southeast Asian Alliance on sixty percent odds.

	"We'll win.  We have no choice.  Besides, all that rests in the
hands of the military." He chanced a smile in the twilight.  "Unless, of
course, you plan to take up a rifle and fight in the AC Army."

	"Far from it."

	"Ah."  He looked at his watch.  "It's about time to go."

	"Ha . . . yes.  Well, I guess I'll see you in Calgary."

	"Yeah.  Bye."

	"Bye."

***

	Sailor America was sick to her stomach, and the fact that her feet
were touching nothing at all was only one reason for this.

	"Relax, just look at my eyes, okay?"  Three meters away, Sailor
Orion floated in the anti-gravity chamber, trying to keep America calm.  If
she had known that she was upside down relative to America, she might have
flipped over to help the brunette get her bearings.  "Remember, you were the
one who wanted this."

	"Can we find some way that doesn't involve null gravity?"

	"No."

	It was a standard drill for spacers.  Learning how to put on a
pressure suit in zero gravity could save one's life in an emergency, and
no-one who couldn't do it was allowed to serve on a starship.  Sailor
America knew this, but she hadn't known that she would react to free-fall
like . . . well, like *this*.

	The room was a cube fifty meters to a side, located on an island a
few kilometers from the big island of Kyushu.  It was relatively
featureless; there were just a few handholds every few meters, and the large
hatch through which they had entered.  It was uniformly white, the lights
and observation windows masked.  It hadn't been Sailor Orion's best choice
as a place to give Sailor America her first taste of free fall, but she
wagered it would be less stressful than taking her lover into orbit.

	Sailor America closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them
slowly.  She found her stomach rising again and quickly focused on Sailor
Orion's blue eyes.  She stared at them for what seemed like years, until
those two orbs were the only things in the universe, trying to blank out the
expanse of the room that surrounded her.  Gradually, she felt her nausea
begin to diminish.

	"Good, now start pulling on the suit.  Bottom half first, just like 
we practiced."

	They went slowly and painfully through the entire process, Sailor
Orion at times thinking that they would never finish in a day, let alone the
twenty seconds prescribed in the manuals.  At long last, they finished.

	Sailor America was slightly panting inside her suit, and the air
conditioning unit couldn't keep up with it.  Her faceplate fogged up as she
looked back at Sailor Orion.  "'Not hard at all, is it?'" she quoted archly.

	Sailor Orion smiled.  "Easy as cake," she said, detransforming into
the familiar black jumpsuit uniform of the Royal Star Navy.  "You'll get the
hang of it soon.  Then you'll be able to do it in a flash, in the dark, with
everything falling apart around you."

	The fog that covered her helmet kept Jen from seeing Sailor
America's glare.  "I'll just bet I can."

	Jen smiled.  "It would be interesting.  I've never been able to do 
it."  She looked at her watch.  "C'mon, it's about time to go home."

	"Ummm . . . ."

	Jen, who had already started over to the door, turned around for a 
moment, still floating away.  "Oh, you probably want to get the suit off 
first.  It's rather bulky in normal gravity."

	Sailor America blinked.  "Aren't you going to help me?"

	"Nope," called Jen behind her as she went to the door, "I think you 
can figure it out."

	The soundproofed doors kept Jen from hearing America's shouts as
well.

***

	Once outside, Eileen took a deep breath and sighed.  She was now
outside the training facility, and beneath the leaden skies she suddenly
felt smaller and less significant.  There was just something about the way
that the gray of the sky and the gray of the northern Pacific Ocean blended
together at the horizons, enveloping her in a uniform clamshell.

	Jen came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, startling the
brunette.  "Penny for your thoughts?"

	"Oh, nothing.  Just thinking about a few things."

	"Such as?"

	Eileen turned and managed a smile.  "You even have to ask?  My
resignation."

	"Oh."  In a few months, H.M.S. Seiza would be departing the Sol
system for destinations unknown.  She was a brand-new ship, much like
Pleiades had been.  For her part, Pleiades was in Martian orbit, undergoing
a refit after returning from another survey trip.  The powers that be had
decided that Pleiades wouldn't be condemned to museum duty after all, which
suited Jennifer just fine; it was still a new ship.

	After much soul searching, Eileen had decided to accompany her lover
this time.  It scared her to death to leave her nice warm Earth, but the
alternative was to sit at home and spend another two or three years
wondering if Jen was alive or dead.  She knew that she couldn't bear to go
through that again.

	That meant that her occupation as Her Majesty's Secretary of Public
Relations would be coming to an end.  In a way she was rather sad; her role
had given her the opportunity to meet more foreigners than would otherwise
be expected.  She'd met quite a few American journalists, all of whom seemed
almost to idolize her: something she personally had no problems dealing
with.  She'd been privy to a lot of information even other senshi didn't
receive until after the fact, and she'd been in close contact with Neo-Queen
Serenity for several years.  All it all, it had been pretty fun, and she was
going to miss it.  This wasn't to say, of course, that being with Jen for
two years wouldn't be enjoyable in its own right.

	Jen looked out to sea.  The building they had just exited stood on
the highest point on the island, which wasn't really saying much; it was a
mere eight meters above the coast.  From it, they could look down to the
small paved area next to the beach where their shuttle waited.  It was a
small three-person job designed for the short hop from Fuu Island to Crystal
Tokyo.

	"You're still uneasy about it, aren't you?"

	"Yeah."

	Jen turned and gave Eileen a big hug, ignoring the look of surprise
on the younger woman's face.  "What was that for?" asked Eileen.

	"I don't know," said Jen with a smile.  "Maybe to cheer you up?"

	"And one hug's supposed to make me forget that I'm going into
space?"

	The smile got even bigger.  "Yep!"

	Eileen managed to smile in return.  "It worked."

***

	As the two flew back to the island of Honshu a few minutes later, a
very different procession left it.  The squadron of aircraft was under the
most ruthless and protective security ever attempted.  Any other aircraft
within a hundred kilometers who were not part of it would have been in
danger of being shot down on sight, had they ignored the constantly
broadcast warnings.  Below, ships plied the waves and pounded the ocean with
sonar waves, scaring away fish and hopefully any submarines as well.  Above,
four planes flew in formation, prepared to take the brunt of any laser
attack from space.

	In short, every possible measure was being taken to make sure that
no harm befell a single occupant of the center plane.  The security even
extended beyond that; inside, the four inner senshi surrounded their charge,
seemingly relaxed but in actuality on greater alert than usual.

	The person for whom all these measures were being taken looked
rather unimpressed.  In fact, she was quite content to read a magazine.

	"Sailor Mars?"

	"Yes?" said the senshi of fire for the fortieth time since takeoff.

	"Did you know that San Diego was host to the World Games in 2500? 
Ever since then, another name for San Diego is the Century City."

	"Interesting," said Mars, who was bored out of her skull.  It wasn't
that she wasn't doing anything; she was probably as prepped for battle as
she'd ever been.  It wasn't that what she was doing wasn't intellectually
stimulating, because it was; there were a nearly infinite number of things
that she had to keep track of, an enormous number of threats that could
manifest themselves.  It was the fact that there were so many other things
she could be doing rather than baby-sitting Serenity across the Pacific on a
trip that Mars felt shouldn't have been made in the first place.

	"Yes.  Hm . . . ," she punched a button a couple of times,
electronically flipping the pages.  "Oh, San Diego was also the capital of
the Fifth Californian Republic from 2132 to 2133, before it was sacked on 5
December 2133 by TexMex raiders."

	Sailor Mars tried very hard to convince herself that Serenity had
only met Sailor Orion twice.  Well, three times if you counted time travel. 
Mars didn't.  Mentally, she ran through the checklist.  Another hour or so
to San Diego.  Then their tour would take them to most of what had once been
the United States, had gone thorough countless name changes, and was now the
American Confederation.  The trip was for various reasons, the most
important being to apply a bit of subtle pressure.

	There were a number of nasty rumors circulating about concerning the
continent of South America.  In a lightning move, the NAC had swept down
from Mexico and taken over virtually all of Central America in a single
week.  It had taken a minor miracle during a fleeting moment called the
Miracle of Bogota for any real resistance to be raised, and the hastily
formed South American Alliance couldn't help to hold against the NAC.

	Despite their best efforts, Bogota had only held for three days,
three days that simply weren't enough to pull together enough arms and
troops for a sustained conflict.  From Columbia-Venezuela the NAC rolled
south, with only token resistance.  In spite of brief rallies at Rio de
Janeiro and at the entrance to Patagonia, the book had been written.

	The other confederations remained silent.  Despite the fact that the
NAC had in the space of a month nearly doubled its size, those closest to
the Americas said nothing: the European and Arab Unions.  Very strange, when
such actions had in the past been more than ample grounds for war.

	Now unsubtatiated reports were coming out that unspeakable acts of
brutality were being carried out there, and Serenity wanted some answers. 
The visit was primarily to get to the bottom of things.  The dilemma that
faced Serenity wasn't whether or not the offenses were happening.  Crystal
Tokyo intelligence was firm on this: it was happening.  The difficulty lay
in just what was to be done about it.  Should Crystal Tokyo interfere?  It
never had before, not through hundreds of years of interconfederational
wars.  At the same time, there had never been such a grievous offense.  No
confederation had ever taken so much territory without provocation, and even
then the conquered were treated properly.

	If Crystal Tokyo interfered, the precedent would almost seem not to
be worth the bother.  The Crystal Tokyo military was divided into the Royal
Army, the Royal Star Navy, the Royal Sea Navy, and the senshi who were
integrated into all three.  The Star Navy was in no position to do anything;
surgical strikes from space were tricky at best, and could be defended
against easily.  The Sea Navy was greatly understrength and undertrained. 
The RA was a joke; no-one liked to admit it, but it was true, and the
question circulated in the upper echelons as to whether the army could
defend Japan itself, let alone go out into the world and handle someone
else's problems.

	It made for very interesting foreign policy.

***

	The small aircraft touched down on the airstrip outside of Crystal
Tokyo under gray skies.  There had been some very light snow earlier in the
day, and the thin layer of white powder covered the grass and some of the
roofs of the support buildings.  Jen and Eileen stepped out of the craft,
taking a moment to wrap themselves more tightly in their coats.  They then
walked down the steps to the runway and the waiting car.

	Once inside, Eileen unzipped her coat.  "Is it just me, or is it
actually getting colder out there?"

	"It's getting colder," said Jen as she slid into the driver's seat. 
"Three degree drop since this morning, I think.  Probably hit some record
lows according to the meteorological geniuses."

	Jen expertly drove the car through the complex and onto the open
road.  In a couple minutes they would arrive at the Palace.

	"So, you think you can manage another exercise tomorrow?"

	Eileen sighed with a mixture of fatigue and relief.  "Sorry, but the
next couple days are going to be a bit busy.  Have to train my replacement,
remember?"

	"Oh.  Sailor Cassiopeia, wasn't it?"  Eileen had mentioned something
about that a few days ago, but Jen had been so wrapped up in her own
preparations to make much note of it.  'Probably won't have another chance to
relax until we're on the Moon at the least,' she thought to herself.

	She kept only a casual look over the road, trusting in other drivers
to pay attention.  Mentally she reviewed the checklist she'd been filling
out for weeks now.  The hardest part would be leaving the University of
Crystal Tokyo, where she'd been learning the ropes of being a professor.

	It had been recognized that she was pretty smart.  She had to be to
get into the school, and she had to be smarter to finish off her doctorate
with all the other work that being a senshi entailed.  However, she was
still terribly young.  It simply wouldn't do for a twenty-four-year-old
woman to teach a class, even a freshman level introductory history course. 
Therefore, she was now an assistant to a professor.  In all practical
respects she was a teaching assistant, doing odd jobs along with the other
doctoral candidates.

	The doctoral candidates all doted on her, of course.  No-one else in
their group had had the opportunity to see history the way she had in 1998,
no-one had been as close to the royal family, specifically the Princess. 
She was quite the darling of the department.  Therefore, it had been rather
hard to get away; all the candidates wanted to keep her there, and many of
the postdocs did as well.  It had taken an executive order from the planet
senshi to pry her away from UCT, and that was only with a promise that she
return within five years, preferably three, and spend the next few decades
on terra firma.

	That, of course, simply begged the question of why she, a history
specialist, was being sent to command a starship of approximately one
hundred fifty people.  It was a very good question that pestered her as she
and Eileen went back to the palace.

================================
Episode #302: The Wild Wild West
================================


San Diego, California District, American Confederation
4 January 3035

	Kelly Grain was twelve.  She had been born and raised in what had
once been and now was again San Diego.  Her life had been wholly
unremarkable since her birth in 3023: she'd gone to preschool and elementary
at the proper times, watched the usual programs, and like most young girls
and not a few boys, she absolutely adored Neo-Queen Serenity and Sailor
America.

	She watched the anime exported from Crystal Tokyo, a children's show
that purported to show the day-to-day life and misadventures of the Neo-
Queen herself, along with the darling of the Western Hemisphere, Sailor
America.  It was wildly popular among American children and children in the
other nations it was shown in, and the related merchandise sold like
hotcakes.  It would be safe to say that their popularity exceeded that of
the current president, David Ronowski.

	All this explained why she was sitting under a blanket at the
intersection of 18th Street and 5th Avenue, trying to gather heat from the
small heater she was sharing with the rest of her family, all under the few
stars that shone brihgtly at three in the morning.

	Kelly Grain was sitting alongside the route that would be taken by
Serenity in her first appearance on the North American continent, and that
made it a rather valuable piece of real estate.

***

	A few kilometers away and a couple of hours later, Neo-Queen Serenity 
was watching the news coverage of her visit.  All the nets were still 
replaying the tapes of her arrival the previous evening, even as she awoke 
early to prepare for the day's activities.

	Yawning, she watched herself step down from the plane, flanked by
Sailors Mars and Mercury.  She had waved to the crowds that had gathered,
smiling as a contingent of Sailor Scouts had handed her a bouquet of
flowers.  The Sailor Scouts were the American thirty-first century
equivalent to the Girl Scouts, named because some enterprising youth worker
realized the fascination the senshi held for American children and decided
to cash in on them.

	Serenity's smile had been especially big as she had looked upon
their uniforms, which were more modest versions of the sailor fuku worn by
her protectors, with skirts that reached down to the knees, and without the
tiara.  Jupiter had insisted that it was a mockery of the sailor senshi, but
Serenity didn't mind too much.  In her opinion it was better than burning
them in effigy, which had been known to happen before.

	On the screen, the image of Serenity walked down the steps, still
waving happily and clad in her formal white dress.  She had reached the
bottom of the steps where she had met the President.  The light-haired man
had smiled and bowed in the Japanese style, which managed to win a smile
from Sailor Mercury.  Serenity had bowed slightly as well, and then
surprised the President as well by taking his right hand and shaking it
firmly.  The media people just ate it up.

	"Enjoying the show?" asked Endymion, just stepping out from the
shower and putting on a robe.  He wouldn't be going with his wife on the
parade; he was scheduled to do a couple interviews instead.

	"Yep," she replied.  "Those scouts are so cute, are they not?"

	"Erm . . . yes, Usako."  A thousand years had made him very good at
dodging difficult questions from his wife.  He went to a drawer and began
dressing.  Today he'd go with the black pants, and perhaps the Order of the
Crescent Moon.  It always looks better on camera, he supposed . . . .

	"Perhaps we could form a similar group in Crystal Tokyo?"

	Endymion was saved from a potentially embarrassing situation by a 
knock at the door.  It opened to admit Sailor Cassiopeia, the future head 
of Her Majesty's Department of Public Relations.  She had just flown in 
that morning from Crystal Tokyo, and she looked it.  Only the natural 
composure that came with being a senshi kept her from looking like the 
frazzled PR secretary she should look like at the moment.

	"Your Majesties," she said with a bow.  "Serenity-sama, you're
needed down at the parade route.  Half the continent's media force is down
there begging for poses, and I had to give them to a few.  I think it'd be
nice if you were to come down."

	Serenity smiled.  She smiled a lot, but this particular one was a
smile of appreciation.  It would seem that in Cassiopeia's tutelage under
Sailor America a bit of the brunette's familiarity had rubbed off.

	"Well, we must not keep the public waiting, must we?"  She turned
and gave Endymion a kiss on the cheek.  "See you soon."

***

	About one light-second away, two others were watching the events on 
the net.  The cameras were presently showing the outside of the hotel where 
Serenity was staying, and the crowds that surrounded it.

	"Don't you wish you were there?" asked Sailor Orion with a smile.

	"Nope," said Sailor America.  "Cassiopeia is welcome to that headache."

	"Aw," said Orion playfully, "you know you miss being in the thick of 
things."

	"Yeah, I miss it like I miss a missile launch."  She floated back to
her red cushioned seat.  The shuttle was about half full with tourists and
naval personnel, most of whom were towards the back of the craft.  Orion and
America were alone in their row, and a lone woman in a rumpled naval uniform
was the only one in the row behind theirs.

	"How do you think she'll handle things?"

	"Pretty good, I think," said Sailor America.  She pulled a handlink
from nowhere and started leafing through news coverage of the visit.  "She
reminds me a lot of myself, actually.  She'd make a good American." 'Yes,
she'd make a damn good American,' the brown-haired senshi thought.  'That's
why she was given no time to prepare, no time to talk things over with me
before leaving, no time to do anything but board the plane half asleep and
go to work on no rest at all.  After all, Americans are used to being in a
hurry, right?' "It's so damned unfair!"

	"Hm?"  Orion looked up from her own handlink from which she had been
reading a few memorandums.

	"Whoops."  How much of that did I say aloud?  "Oh, nothing.  Just
thinking a few things through."

	"Wanna talk about it?"

	"Nah," America replied, matching Orion's painfully forced Midwestern
accent.  "I'm all right."

	"Are you sure?  I'm sure you could take some medication or something
if you're feeling queasy . . . ."

	"Oh!  Oh, no, I'm fine, really."  Obviously Sailor Orion thought her
problem was related to her latent fear of space travel, or more properly her
general feeling of being uncomfortable.

	'Perhaps I should tell her?  No.  She's got enough to worry about as
it is.  I'll have time later'.  She turned back to her handlink, leaving
Sailor Orion to her thoughts.

	The redhead had plenty of them.

	'Okay, so Lieutenant Ijiri will have to be transferred from
engineering to life support because Yuhara is going on maternity leave. 
That leaves a total of five positions to be filled in engineering. 
Personnel is going to balk if I ask for anyone higher than G-3 status, so
I'm going to be stuck reviewing files and making sure that the potential
choices will work out well.  I can't leave that to the chief engineer; he's
not really a people person and he wouldn't know what was good for his own
self.'

	She sighed deeply.  Together with all the other openings, that made
a total of thirty-six headaches to deal with alone, but she would handle
them.  She had to.  She was Sailor Orion, and dammit, she was not allowed to
fail.

	But some sleep would be so much nicer . . . .

***

	"Mr. President."

	"Your Majesty."

	The two met in a small anteroom a few meters from Serenity's waiting
procession.  A short distance away stood Sailor Venus, Sailor Mars, and two
corresponding bodyguards for the president.  Other than them the room was
empty.

	"Your Majesty, I regret that we must part ways so soon after your 
visit, but as you know I have many pressing obligations.  Running the 
largest confederation on Earth is hardly an easy task."

	"Of course," said Serenity, looking and sounding sincere.  Mars
could barely contain herself; something *had* to be up.  If she was in
Ronowski's place, she wouldn't leave the queen unattended like that for a
second.  "We shall meet again at . . . ."

	"Chicago, I believe.  I think you'll like it; the view of Lake
Michigan is rather nice, especially at low tide.  You can see the old
buildings of Evansville peeking up from the surface if you arrive during
spring tides."

	"I look forward to it," said Serenity politely.

	"As do I.  I must be off.  Sayonara."  He bowed, pivoted, and walked
out.  His black-suited bodyguards bowed as well and left.  Sailor Mars let
out a sigh of relief.

	"Nervous?" asked Sailor Venus, smirking.

	"Not at all," muttered Sailor Mars.  "Just because we're taking
Serenity into the public of a country which three hundred years ago put a
*death warrant* on her head is no reason to be upset!"

	"Three hundred years is a long time, you know.  There aren't a lot
of people around who were alive then."

	"*I* was."  Venus blew a sigh.  The awkward moment was interrupted
by Sailor Cassiopeia, who chose that moment to burst into the door.  In a
sudden attack of precognition, Sailor Mars had the fleeting impression that
the senshi would be making a habit of this.

	"Your Majesty, the procession is about to begin.  If you could come
down, please?  We have to take care of some preliminaries first . . . ."

	"Okay."

***

	Neo-Queen Serenity stepped into the limousine.  It was of a special
design: open-topped to allow maximum visibility, yet with a clear casing to
thwart snipers.

	Then again, with the painstaking effort put into security, it was
unlikely that anyone within a kilometer had so much as a water gun
available.  That went for the President's security detail as well, something
argued over for the past year.  The senshi had been adamant on the point,
however; it would only take one psychotic security guard with a bullet and a
clear shot, and then all bets were off.

	This meant the senshi had to take over guard duty and crowd control
for the now-impotent AC regulars.  The brightly-colored sailor fuku were
everywhere: on the rooftops, along the route, alongside the limousine.  The
exact number there was classified; media estimates were anywhere between
twenty and a hundred.

	They were all necessary.  A couple million people crowded the city
for the occasion, and the number alone made Sailor Mars and some others
cringe.  The number of senshi made many in the AC military cringe; they were
sailor soldiers, after all, and one doesn't allow a large military force
into one's country without sweating it out a bit, no matter what the reason.

	But of course, there were extenuating circumstances.

***

	On the Moon, shuttle passengers were adjusting to lunar gravity
after landing.  There had been occasional proposals to give the moon a full
gee of gravity, but they were always struck down.  There seemed to be a
natural charm in having a nearby satellite with a gravity one-sixth that of
Earth.

	If there was such a charm, Sailor America was blind to it as she
hopped about a bit in the terminal.  The ceilings were a bit higher to
accommodate those who might not have been on the Moon before, and the
brown-haired senshi was using every centimeter of it.

	"Don't worry," said Sailor Orion, "you'll get used to it."

	"If you say so."

	They made it to a set of couches, Sailor America bouncing all the
way.  Sailor Orion added it to the list of things she had to ponder: why was
her lover acting as if she'd never been here before?  Stress, or was it
simply psychosomatic?

	The television screens were showing more video of Serenity. 
"Parade's starting," said America, trying to appease her stomach.  "This
should be fun."

***

	"My, this is fun," said Princess Usagi Small Lady Tsukino from her 
purple-upholstered armchair.

	"Hm?" asked Sailor Mercury, who hadn't been paying attention.  
Instead, she had been reading an English language AI trade journal.  
It would have been childishly simple to get the Japanese 
language version, but she liked to stay sharp.

	"Sitting here.  Watching television.  Not seeing the crowds."

	"Security," said Sailor Altair from the window.  They were in a hotel 
room acrossd the city from the parade, and almost equally as far from 
Endymion.  "If something should happen to your mother and father, you'd be 
in charge, you know."

	"Yes, yes, but how likely is that?"

	"As long as there is the possibility that-"

	"If you're so worried about possibilities, why did you let Mother 
even come here?"

	"Because she wanted to," Sailor Mercury said softly.  "We were all
against it.  Your mother thinks that her presence can change things here,
and so as long as she's got that hope it's rather hard to say no to her."

	"Well then, if you'll allow Mother to go out there, you can
certainly allow me!"

	"That's precisely why we *can't* allow you to go out there," replied
Altair.  "We're taking a fantastic risk having her parade down a major city
like this, and we'd rather avoid compounding that!"

	But I'm the princess!  If I say I want something, it's got to be
done!  Usagi very nearly said that.  But she didn't.  She'd learned that
lesson quite a long time ago.  With power came responsibility, and she knew
that she couldn't do anything she wished.  There were expectations. 
Obligations.  Commitments.  Trappings.  She sighed.  No wonder her mother
had always wished for a normal life.

	"Fine, I'll stay here."

	"That was never in question," said Sailor Altair.  Sailor Mercury
gave the black haired senshi a warning look, and Sailor Altair bowed her
head in submission.

	"It's okay," said Sailor Mercury.  She turned to Usagi.  "Remember,
you'll have plenty of chances to grab the publicity before this is all
over." Sailor Mercury then found it her turn to receive a glare.  "It's not
all publicity, you know.  There's the actual idea of seeing the country? 
Mingling with the natives?  You know, stuff that tourists are supposed to
do?  You'll have time for that too.  Beginning in . . . Reno, I think."

	"Yes."  Usagi's attention returned to the television.  The parade
was now turning a corner and winding its way down towards the bay.  The
waters of the bay were bluish-gray, with only a few sparkles as sunlight
struggled to get through the thin high clouds.  The crowds paid it no mind,
though.  After all, the real action was happening on the streets.

***

	"Look at them.  It's about to rain, and they don't give a damn!"

	"Um, actually sir, I believe the rain won't begin for another
thirty-six hours according to the meteorological department."

	General Jeffrey Black scowled at his adjutant.  "Bloody meteos,
never get anything right anyway.  You ask me, it's their fault it's always
so cold." He sighed.  "That's not the point, however," he continued, toying
with his thick mustache.  "The point is that that bitch is too popular."

	Lieutenant Aaron Lewin looked a bit apprehensive.  "Sir, aren't
standing orders-"

	"You know as well as I do how much standing orders are worth.  I'm
the supreme commander, I think I get a bit of leeway.  Don't you?" The
threat was clear.

	"Um . . . yes, sir."

	"Good."  The man with salt-and-pepper hair turned back to watching
the screen.  His office was a rather cold and utilitarian room.  It had one
wall of glass that overlooked the Cave, a rabbit's arren of chambers,
tunnels, and bunkers that lay somewhere beneath the Rocky Mountains and
north of the Columbia River.  It bore a slight resemblance to the United
States's old NORAD headquarters in Colorado, but since the destruction of
that base in the Formation Wars American military planners had bad memories
of the area.  So when it came time to build a new headquarters, they had
chosen some place further north and then took the further precaution of
building two decoy bases, making sure the three were widely spaced.  As if
that had not been enough, the locations of none of the three were made
public.

	It was the most secret room in the world, or at least as secret as
anything could be in the world of the thirty-first century.  Of course the
planners had known that the location would be found out; it would be
underestimating any potential enemies to assume otherwise.  So they had
taken a further precaution and lined the entire thing with layer after layer
of concrete, lead, rock, water, and whatever could be found to insulate
against any imaginable force.  General Black felt the truly frightening
thing was the protection was also there to protect the outside world from
whatever might be unleashed inside.

	"Too much power, I tell you, and we're inviting her right into our
midst."

	"The plan accommodates that, sir."

	"The plan never works.  If three thousand years of military history
hasn't taught us that, nothing will . . . but no matter.  Are the Calgary
papers ready?"

	"Um . . . ."  Lewin went to a terminal and started tapping away. 
"Fraunhofer's team is still working on their estimates, but everyone else is
ready, sir."

	"Good.  I hear Calgary has some nice local restaurants?"

	Lewin, a Calgary native, smiled.  "Best in the world, sir.  Barbecue
that has to be tasted to be believed."

	"I see."  He chanced a smile.  "Perhaps we should get there a bit
early?"

	Lewin wisely overlooked his commander's slip in using Japanese. 
"Yes, sir.  In fact, I could recommend-"

	"Attention, attention.  General Black, would you please come to
section W immediately.  General Black, would you please come to section W
immediately.  That is all."

	The PA fell silent, as did the two men.  "Project Heartbreaker."

	"Yes, sir.  You don't suppose anything's gone wrong?"

	The general stood and walked briskly out the door and down the hall
with a speed that made him seem younger than his sixty-two years.  "Of
course something's gone wrong," said Black to his adjutant, who was
struggling to keep up.  "You know those scientists: never happy unless
they're screwing things up!"

***

	"Stop the car."

	The driver blinked, as did the senshi around Neo-Queen Serenity. 
"What?"

	"Stop the car, please," Sreenity repeated.

	The driver, a civilian whose extensive training and high speed
evasive driving had won him the spot as chauffeur for the trip, looked at
Sailor Mars for advice.  Mars nodded her head slightly, if not a little
reluctantly, and the car stopped, as did the rest of the procession a couple
seconds later.

	"I would like to get out, please."  She held up a hand; she could
see that the other senshi in the vehicle were aghast.  "I have to attend to
a matter of foreign relations." Sailor Mars was the only one ready to
complain now, and the expression on her face showed that she had plenty she
wanted to make clear.  "If you like, you can come with me."

	Sailor Mars sighed; was there no hope?  For the sake of the kami,
why did Serenity insist on seeing how far she could push her umbrella of
security?  If she hadn't known the queen for a thousand years she'd swear
Serenity had a death wish.

	"Very well.  But we'll all come with you."

	The doors opened, the shield came down, and Serenity stepped out,
her senshi flanking her and trying to look calm.  Serenity had no need to
try to look calm; she knew what she was after.  She made a beeline for the
edge of the route.  With a gesture, two guards removed the barricades that
blocked the crowd from the road.  For their part, the people in the crowd
were stunned that the most powerful person in the world was just a few
meters away and drawing closer.  There was no need for the senshi to hold
them back; the crowd was doing a good job of that itself.

	Serenity noticed none of this; she was looking at one person in
particular.  She found that person, and without the slightest hesitation
crouched down to look at her in the eyes.  "Hello," said Serenity in
accented English.  "What is your name?"

	Somehow the girl managed an answer.  "K-Kelly Grain, Your Majesty,"
she said.  She started to curtsey, then stopped in the middle of it, unsure
of whether or not she should have done so.

	Serenity smiled that famous smile.  "No need for that," she said,
gently helping Kelly up to full height and brushing back her chestnut hair. 
"Just call me Serenity."

	"Yes . . . I mean, yes, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, finishing in
Japanese.

	Serenity smiled even more broadly at that.  "You are a very cute
girl." she asked in Japanese.

	"If you say so, Your Majesty."  The Japanese came as a struggle to
Kelly, but she managed it.

	"They teach them so young," she said in an aside to Sailor Venus,
who smiled in return.  She turned back to the girl.  "You . . . you remind
me of my daughter when she was your age," Serenity said in English again. 
"You are a good girl for your parents, are you not?"

	"Mm-hm," she replied, nodding.  Her mother and father positively
beamed with pride behind her.

	"Good.  Keep it up, okay?  Good luck."  On impulse she gave a hug
that couldn't have been done for any better visual effect if it had been
choreographed, and that would be flashed on every news network on a dozen
planets within a couple of days.

***

	"Ha," said Sailor America from her vantage point on the moon. 
"Sailor Cassiopeia's job just got a lot easier," she said with a smile. 
"You can't *buy* PR like that.

	"Orion?"  She looked over at the redhead.

	She was fast asleep.

====================================

Begun: 16:15 17 April 1998
Finished: 18:36 6 May 1998
Final draft: 22:43 27 May 1998
Final edit: 22:31 15 February 2001

============================ 
Episode #303: Love Your Home 
============================ 
 
Calgary, Alberta, American Confederation 
2 February 3035 
 
	In seventeeth century America, German immigrants brought with them a
curious custom.  On a certain day of the year, they would observe a large
rodent as it emerged from its hole.  If it saw its shadow it was supposed to
be frightened and run back into its hole, signifying the onset of another
six weeks of winter.  Otherwise, spring would soon come.
 
	The idea of Groundhog Day was nothing more than a footnote in
sociology books by the thirty-first century, but the parallels were uncanny. 
The military leaders of the world were popping out of their hidey-holes
beneath the Rockies, Himalayas, Alps, and Urals, under the island of
Tasmania and the desert of the Saudi peninsula.  By mutual agreement, or
rather by the agreement of their political masters, they were coming to the
city of Calgary.
 
	After a hundred year fallow period, the city was reviving itself. 
The invited dignitaries knew that was the reason the American Confederation
had held the conference there, so distressingly close to Serenity's tour
which on this particular day brought her to Englewood, the city that stood
where Denver once was.  It was a perfect chance for Ronowski to showcase the
success the AC enjoyed.
 
	"Bloody cocky if you ask me," growled Admiral Bailey of the
Southeast Asian Alliance.  He and his adjutant were riding in a taxicab down
the streets of Calgary to the Hacker Theater, today's meeting place.  "First
they're all going on about the need for utmost secrecy, and then he wants us
to take bloody tours of his imitation Crystal Tokyo!"
 
	His adjutant said nothing.  He was the seventh assistant Bailey had
had in the past seven weeks, and had decided that the key to outlasting his
predecessors was to keep his mouth shut and agree with whatever his superior
said.  "As you say, sir."
 
	"Argh, I suppose it's his right.  Were you there at Auckland that
one time . . . back in November, I think it was?"
 
	"I don't think so, sir." 
 
	"Hm, must be thinking of someone else, then."  He carried on in his
loud boisterous voice, one that seemed especially well suited for poker
games around a table with cigars and alcohol.  "Anyway, that was a time,
I'll tell you.  Old man Prathachulthorn was laying it on thicker than a
mason.  All over the SEAA, I tell you.  Conferences all morning, fly over to
Australia for lunch, back to Wellington, then to Manila or Hanoi or kami
knows where for dinner.  We all hated it, of course, but we had to show 'em
that we could stand up to Her Nibs up there!"
 
	"Of course, sir."  The adjutant ran a hand though straight-combed
brown hair and wondered how long they had to wait until they arrived.
 
	"We can do it, you know.  Hell, we could do it alone if we had to,
if we were of a mind to-"
 
	The phone rang.  Bailey reached to his armrest and punched a button. 
"Bailey speaking.  Yes, yes, of course it's taken care of, do you think I
would have come here if it wasn't?  No.  No, not yet, but it will, trust
me." A pause.  "The hell he will!  Damn!  Um . . . just wait, okay, and when
I get there it'll all be sorted out, okay?  Good.  Bye." He poked the button
savagely.
 
	The adjutant simply looked at his superior.  If Bailey thought it
was worth mentioning, he'd mention it.  The next two minutes passed in
silence.  An accident had tied up traffic, and there was thus a
corresponding delay.  Finally, Bailey spoke up.
 
	"The Northies want more time on Heartbreaker.  Say there are
'unforeseen complications.'"
 
	"Heartbreaker, sir?" 
 
	"Do your homework, boy," he replied in a harsh tone.  The adjutant
suddenly had the impression that his stay with the admiral had just
shortened appreciably.  "It'll come up later this afternoon, and you'll have
to know about it."
 
	"Of course, sir."  He immediately got out his handlink, a standard
model from Crystal Tokyo, and began pulling up documents.  It made for very
dry reading.
 
*** 
 
	"Order please, ladies and gentlemen, can we get this show on the 
road?" 
 
	It was a very plain room: wood paneled, with a textured white
ceiling and a single long mahogany table.  Around it were exactly one dozen
men and women, the leaders and next-in-lines of the six major world
confederations.  Arranged in seats against the wall were the military
leaders of the confederations, their seconds, and their adjutants.  In all
the room was fairly crowded, yet at the words from Ronowski it fell silent.
 
	"Thank you."  He sat at the head of the table.  To his left were
Russia and China at the far end.  To his right were Arabia and Europe at the
far end.  Directly opposite was the SEAA.  "Once again I'd like to thank you
all for coming.  To get the formalities out of the way, introductions?" He
gestured to his right.
 
	"Emily Martin, Vice-president, American Confederation," said the
brunette quietly.  She was a fast-rising star in the AC, mainly because her
predecessor had made the very bad career move of publicly disagreeing with
the invasion of South America.
 
	The next man spoke up.  "Victor Mohammed al-Fayit, President of the
Council of the Arab Union.  And my second, Vice-President Sadit Hassin."
Fayit was a rather tall man, overshadowing his decidedly shorter
vice-president.  He looked terribly nervous; probably the result of the
assassination attempt just three years before.
 
	Following him came the only female to hold a superior position.  She
had medium length blonde hair with a couple strands of gray, but her eyes
told one that she was younger than she looked.  "Wilhelmina Cabot, Prime
Minster of the European Union." She smiled thinly.  "Call me Mina," she said
in her round Buckinghamshire accent.  "And this is Deputy Prime Minister
Alistair Richards." The elderly gentleman nodded slightly, almost gingerly. 
He had been prime minister just a couple years before, but failing health
had forced him to step down.  With the exception of himself, no-one at the
table expected him to live out the year.
 
	Next came the Southeast Asian Alliance.  It was in the most
precarious position; the last war between them and the American
Confederation had been a few scant decades ago, and there were some
old-timers on both sides who still held grudges.
 
	"Sean Prathachulthorn," said the president roughly.  His election
campaign had been based on his down-on-the-sheep-farm demeanor, and he
almost radiated that now.  The large, burly man looked almost like a farmer,
wearing his snazzy business suit in a almost flippant manner, with necktie
and top button loose.  The rest of them knew that he could afford to be so
relaxed; more than anyone else, he controlled the Indian subcontinent, and
that was presently a *very* valuable piece of real estate.  After all, it
was there that Project Titan was being kept.
 
	That fact made the person next to him very nervous.  It was his job
to keep track of threats, and he knew that almost all the others at the
table were wary of having Titan under the almost complete control of one
confederation.
 
	"Vice-President Edward Lansing."  He looked about expectantly and
caught the eye of Martin.  He relaxed visibly, smiling slightly.
 
	"Mao Tsing Liu," said the next man shortly.  "Premier, Chinese
Confederation." He was an odd man; he had chosen to move the capital from
the centuries-old city of Beijing to the island of Hong Kong, his
birthplace.  Hong Kong was also famous for having the second best laser
defense system in the world.  "Ming couldn't be here today because of a
severe illness; Miss Hsu is here in his place."
 
	The young Chizawa Hsu bowed slightly.  Whereas Liu was from the
southern parts of the Chinese Confederation, Hsu was from Nanjing.  She knew
her city's history as well as anyone, and she knew just how close her city
was to Crystal Tokyo.  Little wonder she often shared glances with the
military heads behind her.
 
	Ronowski looked down to the next person.  "Your turn, Alex," he said
with his usual dry tone.
 
	"Thank you."  He bowed.  "President Alexander Rostov."  Rostov was
known as a man of few words, and he seemed intent on proving that. 
"Vice-President Jeremy Bezukoff."
 
	"Well then," said Ronowski affably, "now that we've all formally
introduced ourselves, I'll just remind you that none of the proceedings are
to be recorded.  I had myself checked for recording devices before I
entered; I trust you did the same?"
 
	There was a chorus of affirmative responses.  This was as secret as
anything could possibly be; none of them were supposed to be there.  Body
doubles were all over the world, giving the impression that the world
leaders were all very far away from Calgary.  Hsu's double would in fact be
making a speech later that day.  They could not afford for any of them to
been seen as having the slightest opportunity to have been in Calgary.
 
	"Good.  Now, let's get down to business.  First up, I think, is the
timetable of directive 280.  Sean?"
 
	"Yes."  He blushed slightly at the Japanese he used; old habits were
hard to break.  "Regarding stage one, we've managed to shorten it to a two
week buildup period.  My people tell me, however, that this is still pushing
the Roshack boundary.  Crystal Tokyo may still react before schedule."
 
	"They're going to balk," said Lansing, "we know that.  We just need
the time to prepare for it."
 
	"Two weeks, you say?" asked Cabot from the EU.  "Is that enough
time?  I seem to recall you saying back in December that it would be
impossible to get full mobilization in less than three weeks?"
 
	"That was a pessimistic estimate," said Prathachulthorn in a
dismissive tone, "and in any case we'd still have a vast advantage.  With
luck they won't know anything's amiss until the missile radar light up."
 
	"And if we're caught red-handed?" asked Fayit of the AU. 
 
	"We won't be caught." 
 
	Ronowski leaned forward, rubbing his bare chin slightly.  "Did you
give any thought to forecasting the possibilities with an early use of
Titan?"
 
	"Heavens no!" exclaimed Lansing of SEAA.  "All scenarios show that's
extremely bad.  I strongly recommend it remain outside of 280 until 280 is
declared a failure, if at all."
 
	Fayit grumbled at this.  "I see.  Just be sure that Titan is well
looked after.  We have invested quite a bit in it."
 
	"As have we," said Prathachulthorn sharply.  "Or have you forgotten 
Delhi?" 
 
	"Very well," said Ronowski, sensing that things were getting
hostile, "I can see we're getting nowhere with this.  Liu, your plans for
Project Dagger have already been finalized, as have Rostov's plans for
Project Spinal Tap." He grimaced; whoever came up with those names needed
some therapy.  "That leaves-"
 
	"Heartbreaker," said Admiral Bailey.  They all looked around from
their seats at the man.  He was seated comfortably behind his president,
with a neutral, almost bored expression.  "Tell us, sir, if you don't mind. 
How go the latest tests with our most powerful weapon?"
 
	Ronowski smiled.  "Heartbreaker is proceeding splendidly.  We should
be able to begin mass production within a matter of weeks."
 
	"Interesting you should mention that, Dave," said Rostov.  "If I
remember correctly, all supplies and materiel were to be on-site about a
week ago, excepting normal resupplies.  Now you're saying it'll be weeks
before they're ready?"
 
	"We have over a month until 280 is executed.  I feel pretty
confident we can ship them over."
 
	'And if you don't?' thought Rostov silently.  'If you don't, and
hoard Heartbreaker all to yourself?  If SEAA does the same with Titan?  If
any one of us betrays the other five?' It wasn't something he liked to think
about for long, but as the discussion wore on it was something he thought
about a lot.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor America sighed and leaned back in her seat.  The headquarters
complex for the Royal Star Navy was a very close copy of the room beneath
the Crystal Palace; understandable, as the one was built hard on the heels
of the other.  The screens were basically the same, except that the data was
more oriented towards space and ships than of Earth and people.  It was also
rather busy, so no-one had time to ask why a sailor senshi was idling away
in the midst of such activity. She smoothed out her skirt and put on a
headset.  Flipping through a few random comm channels, she hit upon a
maintenance band and listened for a bit.
 
	"Well, what brings you here?" 
 
	America looked up to see Sailor Orion leaning against a console.  
"How do you mean?" 
 
	"Well, this really isn't your type of place.  I'd have thought you
would be wandering around the admin offices."
 
	"Oh.  Um, I'm not really doing anything, really.  I didn't have
anything else to do, you know.  Someone needs to tell these Lunarians how to
have a good time."
 
	"Ah."  The redhead pulled up a chair and sat next to her.  Peering
at Sailor America's screen, she noticed that it was blank.  "Not watching
Her Majesty?"
 
	"Cassiopeia's been doing a very good job.  I have no complaints." 
 
	"She's in the mountains, isn't she?  Near the former site of the
capital?"
 
	Sailor America punched up a map of the region.  "Yeah, Denver used 
to be the capital until it was abandoned.  Englewood's a pretty nice 
place, though.  Nice skiing; I'm sure Her Highness will love that." 
 
	"Attention RSN Headquarters, this is Sailor Lyra, H.M.S. Seiza.  We
are now entering the Oort Cloud and reporting as requested." The tinny voice
resounded through the room, the voice of a senshi coming home after a
yearlong absence.
 
	"Seiza, this is RSN HQ acknowledging," replied the commanding
officer.  Welcome home."
 
	"We're home," said the relieved voice at the other end.  In the
background the usual cheers that accompanied a ship's return to the Sol
system could be heard.  Sailor Orion looked up at the status screens with a
wistful expression; had it been five years since she had returned with the
same triumphant words?  She'd thought she was home for good then, too.
 
	"Jennifer?" 
 
	"Huh?"  The redhead blinked and looked at the speaker.  Sailor
America stood before her, concern in her eyes.
 
	"Are you okay?  You just spaced out for awhile there, and . . . ." 
 
	"Oh, I'm fine, really."  She shook her head and looked about.  HQ
was continuing at its usual pace.  "Just thinking about some things."
 
	"Perhaps you should get some sleep?" 
 
	Sailor Orion chanced a smile.  "I *would* get more sleep at night if
it weren't for you," she teased.
 
	"Would you prefer I let you get more sleep then?" replied Sailor
America with the same tone.
 
	Sailor Orion made a show of pretending to think about it.  "Um . . .
no, you can carry on if you like," she concluded.
 
	"Oh, I like, don't worry about that."  She chanced a peck on Sailor
Orion's cheek despite standing orders against public displays of affection.
 
	Sailor Orion kissed her back.  'Sometimes in life,' she thought,
'you have to say to hell with the rules.'
 
*** 
 
	"There are *rules* to warfare, Mister Ronowski, and one of them is
that you don't start a war unless you know you can win!" Cabot took a deep
breath before continuing.  "Now, I'd like a clear answer: can all these
grandiose plans succeed?"
 
	"Actually," said Liu, stepping in before Ronowski could speak, "I
think it would be best if we voted on the matter of whether or not we will
go ahead with 280 before we even began discussing its success."
 
	"That's my point!"  It was now mid-February, and her nerves, along
with the rest of theirs, were wearing a bit thin.  "We can't very well vote
when we aren't certain of success!"
 
	She sighed and counted to five.  "We agreed that the vote had to be
unanimous.  I for one will vote against it until I know exactly how things
will be conducted, not the vague overviews we've gotten so far."
 
	"Very well," interjected Ronowski, "a brief overview, then.  General
Black?"
 
	The general stood and proceeded to the wall behind the SEAA.  At his
signal, a projection screen dropped down from the ceiling, along with a
projector a couple meters away.  As the lights darkened, a map of Japan and
the immediately surrounding area appeared.
 
	"It's fairly basic, actually.  Two armies, one on the Korean
peninsula, the other on the Kuril Islands.  At a pre-ordained time, they
attack the islands of Kyushu and Hokkaido respectively from sea and from
land." Thus the names Spinal Tap and Dagger.  "If all goes well, the two
will meet at Crystal Tokyo, with the rest of Japan in their possession."
 
	"But of course that won't happen," said a commander from Europe.  
"They have their army, and the sailor senshi." 
 
	Black chuckled slightly.  "Arnie, you've never learned, have you? 
We have nothing to fear from their army.  They're a bunch of soft,
undertrained, overconfident, impudent children, and the worst thing is that
they *know* that.  We all saw how they fared back in '01.  If it were only
they that defended Japan we'd have invaded them centuries ago.
 
	"But the senshi . . . yes, they're another matter.  We have yet to
see a true test of how we'd fare against magical warfare; all simulations
show that it would be at best a draw.  However, we can take several measures
to assure our best chance at victory, and that is conveniently the next step
in the plan.
 
	"First, it is essential that we have the advantage of surprise.  
Even catching them unprepared by two weeks would help immensely; as it is 
we estimate that we can attack with even a one week jump.  One week would 
assure that they'd be unable to fully mobilize their military, and drastically 
cut down on the time the senshi would have to prepare." 
 
	"And how do you propose we accomplish this?" asked Cabot. 
 
	"That's Project Henso; President Rostov's people have been working
out the details for that.  In any case, once we have removed surprise,
there's the matter of firepower."
 
	"Yes there is," said Rostov sharply, "and more importantly the cost
of the firepower.  You realize just how much we're doing into debt for this
undertaking?"
 
	"Reparations," said Ronowski. 
 
	"Yes," said General Black.  "Reparations will have to be paid by
Crystal Tokyo.  So, we will have the firepower to defeat them."
 
	"Nukes?" asked Hsu warily. 
 
	They all knew that answer to that. 
 
	"No, we'll restrict ourselves to conventional weapons.  Use of
nuclear weapons early on, especially on their own soil, could make the
senshi . . . irrational." It was a polite way of saying that if a tactical
nuclear warhead were used on Japan, the senshi might overreact and respond
in kind, if not with more force.  Nuclear weapons weren't the most powerful
weapons in the world anymore; the continual destructive ingenuity of mankind
had seen to that.  "Besides, we have something better than that:
Heartbreaker."
 
	Europe and America remained emotionless.  China blanched, as did
SEAA.  AU only showed slight surprise, and Russia showed distinct interest.
 
	"So," said Rostov, "we're proceeding with Heartbreaker?" 
 
	Black managed to look sheepish.  "Pending approval from you all,
sirs.  If given permission, I can guarantee that Heartbreaker can be put
into action."
 
	Hsu only looked at Ronowski with a fairly ill expression.  "We'll
iron out the details of that later," said Ronowski reassuringly.  "But
consider, Heartbreaker is our single best hope of victory."
 
	"Okay," said Hsu wearily, "but I think we're going to have to sleep 
on this one.  It's been a long day." 
 
	"No."  Ronowski was surprisingly firm.  "We vote now.  We must." 
 
	Prathachulthorn blinked.  "Now?  But we've barely finished
discussing matters!"
 
	"Now or never, Sean.  We can't wait any longer." 
 
	"Well, maybe *you* can't, but when I'm taking on the largest power 
in the world-" 
 
	"Stop that!  Serenity is not the largest power in the world, WE are! 
That's why we're going through with this, to make her realize it!" He fell
silent as he realized how panicky he had sounded.  

	Russia decided to bail him out. "I think what he's trying to say is
that our objective is clear.  Serenity has a stranglehold on our economies,
on our cultures, on our planet.  This situation cannot be allowed to
continue.  We decided upon the objective in Kiev, we decided upon the means
in Cairo, and we are now here to decide whether or not to proceed." Rostov
picked up a pencil and rolled it in his hands for a moment.  "So, shall we
decide?"
 
	"Motion to decide on the matter," intoned Martin. 
 
	"Seconded," said one of the Arabians. 
 
	"Very well," said Ronowski, taking Prathachulthorn's silence as
assent, "motioned and seconded.  I think we can all agree that we've debated
this enough for the past couple years, so we can vote.  As also per our
earlier agreements, any vote must be unanimous.  We won't have anyone
dragged into this involuntarily.  All in favor of proceeding with World
Council Directive #280, please indicate by raising your-"
 
	"Actually . . . ," interrupted Prathachulthorn, "would anyone object
to a roll call vote?"
 
	Ronowski regarded the president of most of the southern hemisphere
with something akin to respect.  It had been a question in Ronowski's mind
for some time, whether or not the SEAA's leader was for or against 280. 
Even now, he couldn't be certain as to whether or not Prathachulthorn was
trying to bolster the effort or sink it beyond hope.  He opted for the more
cheerful assumption.
 
	He looked around the table.  "Without objection, so ordered.  We'll
go around the table.  Rostov, for or against 280?"
 
	"For." 
 
	"Liu?" 
 
	Liu stroked his chin for a moment while his second-in-charge
whispered in his ear.  Hsu finished and backed away.  "The Chinese
Confederation votes in favor of the directive, with reservations.  We will
withdraw our support if at any time we feel that the plan is failing.  *Any*
time, mind you."
 
	Ronowski scowled inwardly but outwardly gave no sign of distress. 
'Dammit,' he thought, 'China is the key!  Without them we can't even begin!'
"Very well, two in favor.  Sean?"
 
	"Pass." 
 
	"You're certain?" asked Ronowski, an icy ball gathering in his
stomach.
 
	"Quite sure, Dave.  I want to see how the climate goes; my vote may
not even be necessary."
 
	"Fine, fine," said Ronowski, drinking from his glass of water.  He
rubbed his hands on his trousers, wiping off the condensation he'd picked up
from the ice-cold glass.  "Cabot?"
 
	"For."  She leaned back and turned to regard Prathachulthorn.  "Sly
little devil, you aren't scaring me out of a yes vote that easily." Her face
was set, but her eyes twinkled.
 
	"It was never my intention," he replied, chuckling slightly. 
 
	'Enough with the mushy stuff,' thought the President of the American
Confederation.  "Fayit?"
 
	"I'm with Mr. Liu.  For, only if the plan stays successful.  We'll
be . . . I believe the expression is a fair weather friend?"
 
	"Then we'll be sure to keep the skies clear for you," said Cabot,
smiling.  London was much better known for blue skies than it had been in
the twentieth.  Then again, with the various climatic changes . . . .
 
	"Okay then, if the festive mood is over," said Ronowski as he raised
his voice above the growing laughs, "I think you can guess that my vote is
for." The smile fell from his face.  "Which leaves you, Sean.  Directive 280
lives or dies on your say-so."
 
	Prathachulthorn folded his hands in his lap, his gray eyebrows
knotted together.  He'd been over all the plans, made up his mind as to who
would probably win, and had thought over the consequences of the outcome. 
In the coming months, he would be watching from a very relaxed viewpoint as
things went like clockwork, or so he thought.  What is important from a
historical viewpoint is that it was what he thought would happen that shaped
his words, and not what would happen.  It's what everyone does in their
lives, but this time it happened to count for something.
 
	"For.  Why not?" 
 
	David Ronowski regarded his opposite with narrowed eyes.  Was he 
joking or serious? 
 
	"Well then," said Prathachulthorn brusquely, "we're all in
agreement, so what say we bug out of here and grab some food, eh?  You've
been telling me about the food here in Calgary, Dave, it's time to put your
palate where your mouth is."
 
	Ronowski took a long sip at his water. 
 
*** 
 
	It came in Kansas City, near the dead center of the North American
continent.  Serenity's tour was pressing on through the American
Confederation with nary a problem, except for some rather tired senshi.
 
	It came at 8:44 CST, as she was finishing her breakfast.  Endymion 
was idly flipping through a local news channel when he saw his wife look 
up suddenly. 
 
	"Usako!" 
 
	She didn't reply at first, but simply stared into space, as if
receiving a message from somewhere.  It was, in fact, the one and only
instance of precognition that the Neo-Queen would ever have.
 
	"We must leave."  She held up a hand before Endymion could speak. 
"We must return to Crystal Tokyo immediately.  We are in danger.  I'm . . .
I'm scared!"
 
	It was probably a good thing that the two were alone.  Had anyone
else been around to see the most powerful woman in the world become
frightened of anything, the panic would have been unavoidable.
 
============== 
 
List of leaders and nations:
 
David Ronowski -president of the American Confederation, from St. Johns,
Newfoundland.  The American Confederation comprises all of North America and
South America, including Hawaii, the Caribbean Islands, and Greenland, and
has its capital in Vancouver, British Columbia.  Vice president: Emily
Martin, from Wallum Lake, Rhode Island.
 
Wilhelmina "Mina" Cabot -prime minister of the European Union, from
Buckinghamshire, England.  The EU comprises most of Europe, including
Iceland, the Balkans, the Baltics, and Israel, and has its capital in
London, England.  Secondary: Alistair Richards, from Cornwall, England.
 
Victor Mohammed al-Fayit -President of the Council of Arab Union, from
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.  The Arab Union comprises all the Arab states:
Northern Africa, the Saudi peninsula, etc.  Its capital is Medina.  Vice
president: Sadit Hassin, from Ziba, Saudi Arabia.
 
Alexander Rostov -president of the Republic of Russia, from Kiev, the
Ukraine.  Russia comprises the former Soviet Union and Mongolia, and its
capital is Odessa.  Vice president: Jeremy Bezukoff, from Sverdlovsk.
 
Mao Tsing Liu -Premier of the Chinese Confederacy, from Hong Kong.  It
comprises China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Macao, Korea, and a couple slices off
the top of Vietnam, Thailand, etc.  Capital is Hong Kong.  Secondary:
Chizawa Hsu, from Nanjing, a replacement for the former secondary, who is on
his deathbed.
 
Sean Prathachulthorn -president of the Southeast Asian Alliance, from
Auckland, New Zealand.  It comprises Australia, New Zealand, India, South
Africa, Indonesia, the Phillipines, and all those other miscellaneous
Pacific islands.  The capital is Wellington, New Zealand.  Vice President:
Edward Lansing, from Sydney, Australia.
 
Africa was not mentioned.  The continent never truly recovered from the
Formation Wars; indeed in some parts one would never have guessed that they
ended.  The world tries very hard to forget that it's even there, with three
exceptions.  The Arab Union, because it controls most of the Sahara and
territories north of it, Crystal Tokyo, which has tried for years to get the
continent back on its feet (witness the three African senshi), and the SEAA,
because it controls the southern tip of Africa.
 
============== 
Begun: 10:40 28 April 1998 
Finished: 17:21 10 May 1998 
Final draft: 15:36 2 June 1998
Final edit: 14:14 20 February 2001 
==================================================== 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A fairly original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #304: Let Us Beat our Plowshares into Swords 
==================================================== 
 
Crystal Tokyo 
28 February 3035 
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia paced back and forth in front of the double doors
that led to the royal family's quarters.  It was morning, time for the daily
briefing, and today she had quite a bit of important news to relay to Her
Majesty.
 
	"You know," said Sailor Altol, "you really should try to lighten
up." Altol was one of the two senshi standing guard duty.  She was terribly
bored by the job, though; she was a veteran of the Second Sailor Wars and
was a bit frisky for some real action.  Even a job like Cassiopeia's,
hanging around with Serenity, that would be an improvement over simply
standing in front of a door all day.
 
	"Lighten up?" asked Cassiopeia, brushing a stray lock of hair from
her eyes.
 
	"Yeah, calm down a little, maybe lay off the coffee?  You've been
going to these things for a month now and you're *still* a bundle of
nerves." Altol giggled like an eighteen-year-old.  Then again, she looked
and sounded like an eighteen-year-old if you ignored her eyes.  Look in her
eyes, and one saw thirty-three years of hard-won experience.  "At least stop
pacing.  You're making *me* nervous!"
 
	"Sorry," mumbled Cassiopeia.  She wandered over to a nearby couch
and absently played with the pleats on the light blue skirt of her sailor
fuku.  Altol was right, she shouldn't be this nervous, so why-
 
	She heard a chirping sound.  Frowning, she reached into nowhere and
pulled out her communicator.  "Yes?"
 
	"Cassiopeia?" came the slightly tinny voice from the small device, 
which looked sort of like a wristwatch.  "It's Sailor America." 
 
	"Sailor America?  Aren't you . . . " 
 
*** 
 
	"On the moon, yes."  Sailor America leaned back in her chair, down
on the floor of RSN Headquarters.  Once again she was bored out of her skull
while her lover went to meeting after meeting after meeting, and the
brunette had nothing better to do than ring up old acquaintances, and maybe
pick up a bit of news on the side.  "So, any news you want to tell me about
Serenity's return?"
 
	There was the sound of a sigh on the line.  "No, she's still
terribly tightlipped about it.  I don't even know if she's told the planet
senshi why!"
 
	Sailor America hummed and strummed her fingers on the console before
her.  "Think there's a chance she just decided to come back on a whim?"
 
	"No way," retorted Sailor Cassiopeia quickly.  "You can see it in
her eyes.  She's got a hell of a poker face, you know, but every once in
awhile I can see through it.  She's afraid of something, and it isn't
monsters under the bed.
 
	"Today I think she's going to tell us, though.  I can't see her
keeping it to herself much longer; Mars is already champing at the bit in
meetings, and-"
 
	"Calm down.  Mars is *always* feisty at meetings, it's her job. 
Now lemme know how things turn out afterwards, okay?"
 
	"But-" 
 
	"Good.  Bye bye!"  She terminated the connection and closed her
eyes.  She didn't know how much more of being out of the loop she could
take.  "Cassiopeia's a good kid," she whispered to herself.  "She can handle
things." Sighing, she lifted an elbow and put it on the console.  "WAAAH!"
She jumped back as an assortment of angry looking lights and noises were
produced from the computer.  "What did I do?" A tech rushed over and began
setting things aright.
 
	"Probably hit the wrong button, sir.  You should probably be a bit
more careful in the future, sir."
 
	"Right," said America.  "You made these things rather unstable, you
know."
 
	"The systems work perfectly well if you know how to use them," the
technician replied in as cold a tone as she dared use in front of a senshi,
and then crouched down to attend to matters beneath the computer.  Sailor
America winced and decided that it was probably best to find someplace else
to mope around.
 
*** 
 
	"Fat lot of good that does me," said Cassiopeia moodily.  The doors 
swung open and Luna trotted out. 
 
	"You can come in now," said the black cat conversationally.  Lately
she had been rather lax on protocol, probably because of Diana's return. 
The cat had been on the moon for the last few years, for reasons known only
to Luna and Artemis.  Diana had returned a month ago, however, and had been
about to go and rejoin Small Lady when Serenity so unexpectedly returned.
 
	"Okay," said Sailor Cassiopeia.  She straightened her hair and
stood, trying to appear self-confident.
 
	Down the hallway she went, the path slightly familiar after two
months.  Past the kitchen, dining room, and Small Lady's bedroom.  'I'm
never going to get used to this,' she thought to herself.  The Princess
slept in that room!  Next in line to the throne, and she slept in that room! 
Here Sailor Cassiopeia was, about to meet Neo-Queen Serenity in Her
Majesty's own study, such as it was.  Quite a bit of progress for a girl who
just a decade ago had been a toddler playing on the beaches of Kyushu.
 
	Past a bathroom, and then a white door.  She knocked. 
 
	"Come in!" 

	"Pardon the intrusion," she said ritually, bowing. 
 
	"Good morning, Sailor Cassiopeia," said Serenity, dressed in a long-
sleeved pink blouse and white slacks.  She sat in an nondescript armchair
that was upholstered in a cotton-like fabric.  On the couch next to the
bookcase were Sailors Jupiter and Mercury, and Sailor Saturn stood against
the window.
 
	Serenity's study was perhaps Sailor Cassiopeia's favorite room in
the Palace; the walls were covered with bookcases, the seats were the best
she'd ever sat in, and Serenity truly seemed relaxed there.
 
	"Please sit down," said the Queen, gesturing to the empty seat. "We
should begin about now, I think."
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia sat, and a screen slid down from the ceiling in
such a position that they could all see it.  "We aren't going to war, are
we?" she asked.  The silence that answered that question frightened her
terribly.
 
	The screen lit up with the faces of those planet senshi not in the
room, with the exception of Sailor Pluto, who had disappeared to places
unknown.  Even Small Lady was in her senshi form.  Sailor Cassiopeia pulled
out a handlink and found that she was in Yokohama, reason unspecified.
 
	"Very well," said Serenity, "now that we are all here, I can tell
you.  Something is going to happen.  I do not know what it is, but I do know
that it will be a catastrophe for the Kingdom."
 
	"How do you know this?" asked the image of Sailor Mars. 
 
	"A premonition." 
 
	Sailor Mars arched an eyebrow.  "You weren't precog the last time I
checked, Serenity."
 
	The Queen's eyes flashed in the slightest hint of anger.  "Let me
explain, please.  I was on the moon.  It was not during the Silver
Millennium, I could tell that.  It was not the present day, either, with the
bases and excavations.  It was just . . . different.  There was no
atmosphere, yet the Palace was standing, and I had the impression of a
multitude of people inside and below.
 
	"I turned to look at the Earth.  I remember . . . it was one of the
most beautiful sights I had ever seen, all blue and white and green like a
marble in the middle of the deepest black you could imagine.  But . . . at
the same time, I felt that something horrible had happened there, something
terrible beyond imagining.
 
	"I looked back at the palace, and my mother was standing before me. 
Not Ikuko Tsukino.  My *mother*.  She said only 'Welcome home.'" Serenity
took a deep breath.  "And then I woke up, more terrified than I had ever
been in my life.  That is when I decided that I had to return home,
immediately."
 
	The image of Sailor Neptune looked angry.  "Why didn't you tell us
this earlier?  Mars or I could have-"
 
	"Could have done what?" interrupted Sailor Mars.  The picture on the
screen was resigned.  "Acted as seers and interpreted her dream for her? 
You know as well as I do that that vision could mean any of a hundred
possible things!"
 
	"Which would be all the more reason to tell us, so we'd have more
time to sort them out!"
 
	"And how would you do this?  Pick ideas out of a hat and see which
one sounded nicest?"
 
	"You two want to calm down a bit?" interjected Sailor Venus.  She
and Uranus shared a panel of the screen; both were on the moon.
 
	"Right, we're not going to solve anything by arguing like this," said 
Sailor Mercury. 
 
	Sailor Mars sighed.  "I know.  My apologies." 
 
	"Sorry, Serenity," added Sailor Neptune.  "But you still might have
told us earlier."
 
	"I was hoping that maybe I could get a bit more about it by myself."
She smiled wryly.  "I suppose that did not work, did it?"
 
	"Not hardly," said Sailor Jupiter.  She frowned.  "No hints about
what might have happened on Earth?  None at all?"
 
	"No.  I have told you everything that I know about this." 
 
	"Hm."  Sailor Jupiter rubbed her chin in thought. 
 
	"In any case," said Serenity, "any suggestions?" 
 
	"Mars and I can get to work trying to pin this down," said Sailor
Neptune confidently.  "You *do* still know how to do fire readings, Sailor
Mars?"
 
	Sailor Mars smiled.  "Depends.  Is the Moon still in Earth orbit?" 
 
	"Looks like it," said Sailor Venus. 
 
	"Good, then I'll get right on it, and you'll use the Mirror?" 
 
	"Yes," replied Sailor Neptune. 
 
	"Good," said Sailor Jupiter.  "If I may suggest it, I think Sailor
Mercury should head a team and look around the excavation sites some more."
 
	"More?" asked Sailor Uranus.  "We've been combing over the place for
*decades* now!"
 
	"All the same," she replied, "things are different now.  There might
have been some changes.  Anyway, I'll work on intelligence, see if the other
confederations might be up to something.  They haven't tried any funny
business since South America; I'd say they're due.  I may need the
assistance of Sailor Saturn in that." Saturn nodded.  "Your Majesty, as a
precautionary measure I'd like to recall some senshi to Earth, just in
case."
 
	"Of course.  Thank you all for coming." 
 
	"Um, Your Majesty, sirs?"  Cassiopeia raised her hand.  "Er . . .
why was I called here?"
 
	"Really, I'd have thought that you knew that by now," said Sailor
Jupiter.  "You now know everything that we know.  It's your job to make sure
that the press doesn't get too close to the truth as of yet . . . and make
sure they don't get too far, either.  We can't afford a panic, understood?"
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia suddenly felt very young.  "Yes." 
 
	"Good.  Let's get to work then." 
 
*** 
 
	The leaders of the various confederations met again around a table
identical to that in Calgary, which was identical to that in Cairo, which
was identical to that in Kiev.  The council members were always insistent on
keeping their meeting places constant.  During conferences, they were to
eschew all thoughts of location or time, and only think of the here and now.
 
	Then again, there was no ignoring what was outside the room. 
Potsdam, the place where 1090 years ago the superpowers had carved up
Germany amongst themselves.  It was also the site of a slightly important
battle during the Formation Wars, and a plaque sat in the center of the town
to commemorate that.
 
	The council was just outside of town, in a hotel that had been
commandeered by half a dozen security agencies.  Absolute secrecy was the
rule; nothing could be leaked under any circumstances.  This was the main
reason that the report Victor Mohammed al-Fayit had been reading was tossed
not into a wastebasket, but directly into the hands of a waiting agent who
took out a match and proceeded to burn it in the sight of the twelve.
 
	"Well Victor, what do you think?" asked David Ronowski. 
 
	Fayit leaned back in his chair, a neutral expression on his face. 
"I'm rather surprised, actually.  I hadn't thought the simulations could be
so optimistic."
 
	"Don't forget that even the most optimistic estimates don't give
much hope if we use them too rashly." As host, Mina Cabot sat at the head of
the table.  "Titan remains a last resort, ne . . . er . . . doesn't it?"
 
	"Yes," replied President Sean Prathachulthorn.  He sniffled a bit:
having been in the rain almost all the previous day, he had a bit of a cold. 
"Frankly I'd like to avoid using it altogether."
 
	"It is a rather neat idea, you have to admit," said Ronowski idly. 
This meeting was mainly to sort out a few details.  The actual mechanics of
the first part of the plan were already in place; they had simply to execute
it.  "Lay a bunch of nukes along the edge of the Pacific/Japan plate, set
them off, cause an earthquake, and watch the fun."
 
	"Fun for you, perhaps," said Prathachulthorn darkly.  "You don't
have a million citizens to evacuate away from the resultant tsunami."
 
	"Bull.  I've got the coast of an entire continent to deal with, and
figuring out the plans for that were *not* easy."
 
	"'Reimbursement,' you say," replied Prathachulthorn, mocking the
tone Ronowski had used so many times in the past weeks and months.  "I'm
sure we can pay for your expenses."
 
	Including the complete redesign of Vancouver into an unbreakable
fortress? wondered Ronowski.  His beloved capital city had been in a state
of construction chaos for the past six years.  It now seemed like something
out of a science fiction movie, with glittering metal buildings that were
supposed to be able to retract into the ground when attacked.  He wasn't
sure why the engineers had started referring to it as Vancouver-3, however.
 
	"That could turn out to be an expensive project.  But we can cross
that bridge when we come to it."
 
	"Yes.  Either way, we've had no difficulty planting the charges. 
Crystal Tokyo has no navy to speak of." He smiled.  "But we do.  Evading
their meager submarine fleet was hardly difficult, and I doubt they even
knew we were there."
 
	"I hope so," said Liu quietly.  "If they found them before things
started to get going-"
 
	"-then we were simply running an exercise, we quietly remove the
charges, and that's the end of it, with Serenity none the wiser,"
interjected Ronowski.
 
	"But it won't come to that.  We won't detonate unless we're
confident of success."
 
	"And our definition of success?" asked Fayit.  "Just so we're all
informed, you understand."
 
	"Intelligence indicates that Serenity would capitulate if we can
hold on to either Hokkaido or Kyushu for more than two weeks," announced
President Rostov.  "She may be tough, but if we incur enough casualties and
hold on to their land long enough, I think that she'll eventually decide
it's not worth it.
 
	"In the end, between Heartbreaker and Henso, I believe we can win
this decisively.  She hasn't the strength in numbers that we have, and
Heartbreaker will put us on a very even keel.  Even without that, Titan will
topple her, or at the least break Crystal Tokyo's back."
 
	"A very good assessment," replied Ronowski.  "Ladies and gentlemen,
according to the timetable, Project Henso will begin in twenty-four hours."
He smiled a devious smile.  "Let's begin."
 
*** 
 
	"WHAT?" 
 
	The face on the screen looked terrified, but she stood her ground. 
"You are ordered to return to Earth as soon as possible and report to the
RSN's Earth Headquarters."
 
	Sailor Orion sat upon the desk of her temporary office, finalizing
details before Seiza came to the moon the next week.  She had just finished
a two-hour long marathon run-around session with the personnel office
regarding a number of transfers and was in no mood to hear that it might
have all been for naught.  She hadn't realized how much paperwork and
bureaucracy had been shielded from on her first trip out, but now she was
receiving it in spades.  Now yet another headache had come upon her.  "Stay
calm," she whispered to herself, "stay calm." Louder, she said, "Did they
tell you anything about Seiza, more specifically what the hell I'm supposed
to do about it?  She's arriving next week, you know, and departing a bit
after that, and it would be sort of nice to *be* here when it happens!"
 
	The communications tech shrank down into her seat a bit more. 
Receiving a tongue-lashing from a sailor senshi wasn't her idea of a good
time.  "I'm sorry, sir, but that's the order I've been told to relay to
you." She swallowed.  "Um . . . I'm to request acknowledgment as well, sir."
 
	"Acknowledgment?  *Acknowledgment*?!  By the kami, I'll give you
acknowledgment all right!" She was about to say more when she heard the door
slide open.  Orion turned to see Sailor America standing just inside the
door frame, leaning against it.  The redhead closed her eyes and sighed.
 
	"Very well.  Order acknowledged.  Return to Earth immediately." 
 
	The tech visibly relaxed.  "Thank you, Sailor Orion.  Out."  The image 
disappeared. 
 
	Orion hopped down from her desk and turned to face it.  She picked
up a handlink, pulling up the last accessed file.  It was an article from a
historical journal on reasons for the American Revolution, a topic all but
abandoned since 1980.  Recent finds had reopened the debate, however.  She
tossed it up and down a couple times, and then hurled it at a far corner
with all her might.  True to its construction, the handlink didn't shatter,
but bounced around a couple times before slowly coming to rest in lunar
gravity.
 
	Sailor America simply stood.  Finally she said, "I take it you got
the message too?"
 
	"The recall?  Yes." 
 
	"About a dozen other senshi are being recalled as well.  They all
looked about as happy about it as you did." America walked over and wrapped
an arm around her lover.  "You shouldn't take it too hard.  If we're lucky
we'll be back up here by next week."
 
	"I know, I know."  She sighed and sat down on the desk, then lay
down full on it, her legs dangling over one end, not noticing the handlinks
on the desk that poked her in the back.  America sat down in the seat and
rested her head slightly upon Orion's stomach.
 
	"Wanna talk about it?" 
 
	Sailor Orion sighed, making Sailor America's head bob up and down
once.  "It's just that . . . I don't know, all the stress lately with Seiza
. . . maybe it's getting to me.  There's just . . . I'd like very much to go
to sleep, but I can't.  I've got too much to do, I'm afraid.  Now this,
calling us back when there's so much else to be done, and-"
 
	"Shhhhh." America reached up and put a single gloved index finger on
Orion's mouth in the universal gesture for quiet.  "Take it easy.  You're
going to make yourself sick with all that stress, and a sick Jennifer is not
a happy Jennifer, okay?  Just stop trying to be so perfect!
 
	"And don't give me that stuff about how you don't try to be
perfect," she added.  "I've seen you in the afternoons in the gym, trying to
work out and read journals at the same time.  You set the highest damned
standards for yourself, and then work yourself to the bone to meet them. 
That's a surefire recipe for a nervous breakdown, and I won't let you do
that to yourself!"
 
	Sailor America's brown eyes were set now as she looked into Sailor
Orion's blues, slightly masked by the reflections off her glasses.  "I
won't, okay?  Even if I have to do your work for you, you're not going to go
crazy on me, okay?"
 
	Sailor Orion looked back at America.  Finally, she broke into a
smile.  "Fine, I'll take it easy."
 
	Sailor America smiled back.  "Good." 
 
	Orion sat up slowly, putting America's head in her lap.  "Right
after I file this report."
 
	"Jen!" 
 
	"Kidding, kidding!" said Orion, planting a kiss on her lover's
forehead.  "But seriously, there are some things that absolutely have to be
done before we leave." She looked up at the ceiling.  "Ayanami, when will
the next shuttle be departing for earth?"
 
	"The next shuttle is scheduled to leave at 21:00 Lunar Standard
Time," replied the AI.  "Would you like seats for the trip?"
 
	"Yes, please.  Two." 
 
	"Done." 
 
	"Good."  She looked down at the brunette.  "Now are you going to get
up, or do I have to move you?"
 
	"But it's so much nicer here," said Sailor America in a mock-hurt
tone.
 
	"I'm sure it is.  But you'll have to move, or else we'll both be in
hot water."
 
	"Fine, fine," said Sailor America, reluctantly standing.  Sailor
Orion hopped down from the desk as well and began arranging the papers and
handlinks into some semblance of order.  "I'll go pack our stuff.  Just
don't work too hard, okay?"
 
	"I'll try," replied Sailor Orion, settling into her seat.  "Oh, and
Eileen?"
 
	Sailor America paused as she was about to go through the door. 
"Yeah?" she asked, turning around.
 
	"Thanks." 
 
	She smiled.  "No problem at all." 
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia raced down the hallway and nearly ran into him. 
 
	"Excuse me, I'm in a hurry," said Cassiopeia, ready to run off." 
 
	"Wait!"   Hideaki Aizawa, rookie reporter for one of Crystal Tokyo's
more popular papers tried to get Cassiopeia's attention.  Both were on the
way to the briefing room of the Palace; Sailor Cassiopeia was simply in more
of a hurry.  "What's going on?  It's one in the morning and you're calling a
press conference, why?" He had checked the nets himself; nothing
particularly noteworthy had happened in the last couple of days.
 
	"Urgent news," she replied, trying to get past him. 
 
	"About what?  For kami's sake, I've been through the news nets,
and-"
 
	"It hasn't been on the nets yet, but we're doing this so that the
public will be informed when it does." Sailor Cassiopeia sighed and bowed
her head, then looked back up, her eyes blazing.  "Fine, I'll tell you, but
I'm not answering any more questions until the conference.  To put it
shortly, at five minutes after midnight our time, an American cutter was
sunk by a Russian submarine in international waters.  Russia isn't
apologizing, and the AC isn't sounding very happy about things.  That's all
I have time for right now.  Bye!"
 
	She finally maneuvered past him and ran for the briefing room. 
Hideaki stood for a moment, scratching his head.
 
	"This doesn't sound good." 
 
 
===================== 
 

Begun: 17:29 10 April 1998 
Finished: 14:17 13 May 1998 
Final draft: 15:11 15 May 1998
Final edit: 16:23 20 February 2001
 
=================== 
Episode #305: Henso 
=================== 
 
Crystal Tokyo 
5 March 3035 
 
	"At 00:05 Crystal Tokyo Time, an American naval vessel, the A.C.S.
Winnipeg, was heading east at approximately ten knots off Attu Island, en
route to Prince Rupert.  According to American officials, an SOS was
received by listening stations at the time.  The message, also received by
Crystal Tokyo sources, stated that they had been hit by a combined laser and
torpedo attack, were down several meters at the head, and required
assistance immediately."
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia looked up from her notes and into the packed
briefing room.  Half the faces were unfamiliar to her, probably Russian or
American journalists who'd been in the region and had raced here to hear
Crystal Tokyo's reaction.  She couldn't blame them.  "Rescue planes were
sent out from Vancouver and Crystal Tokyo, but no survivors have been
recovered as of yet.  All hands are presumed lost.
 
	"At about 00:55, we received a statement from the Russian
Confederation government in Odessa.  They claimed responsibility for the
sinking, and claimed that A.C.S. Winnipeg was in Russian waters.  They
categorically ruled out any apologies.
 
	"And three minutes ago, at 01:21, the American Confederation
government in Vancouver issued a demand for an apology, stating that, and I
quote, 'this most grievous attack upon AC interests demands an apology. 
Odessa will atone for its error, or else the American Confederation will be
forced to respond swiftly and decisively.  The failure of President Rostov
to heed this will result in the gravest consequences.'
 
	"Her Majesty has been kept abreast of the latest developments, and
has prepared the following statement.  'Crystal Tokyo extends its
condolences and deepest sympathy to the families of those lost aboard A.C.S.
Winnipeg.  I counsel the leaders of the American Confederation and the
Russian Confederation to stop and consider their actions before
proceedingany further.  Neither I nor my subjects have any wish to see any
more lives lost.
 
	"'Towards this end, I invite President Ronowski from America and
President Rostov from Russia to meet here at the Palace to discuss matters
further in a peaceful setting.
 
	"'I, along with the interconfederational community, hope that a
peaceful resolution can be found, and soon.' Signed, Neo-Queen Serenity. 
Any questions?"
 
	A forest of hands went up, and Sailor Cassiopeia sighed. 
 
*** 
 
	"This is like a nightmare," said Sailor America, punching the off
button on the handlink.  "Russia and America starting a war?"
 
	"It's happened before," said Sailor Orion.  They were on the express
shuttle to Earth.  Almost all of the two dozen or so passengers were senshi,
with only three exceptions.  They were all nervous, both at the recall
orders and the latest news from Earth.
 
	"Yes, but . . . I've got a brother who was thinking about joining up
with the army, and if he were to-"
 
	"Call him.  Call him and talk him out of it." 
 
	"Will there be time?  Kami-sama, it's only been a day and things are
already going to hell!" That morning, even as Sailor Cassiopeia was pleading
for calm, a Russian aircraft carrier was nearly rammed by an American ship
under the pretext of rudder difficulties.  Both sides knew what it was
really about, however.  Satellite surveillance showed military buildups in
Alaska and the Chukchi peninsula, on the opposite side of the Bering Strait.
 
	Even more frightening, the confederations were already choosing
sides.  The last few wars had been simple affairs, but this one had all the
signs of going global.  China was leaning towards supporting the AC,
probably because of the recent trade agreement between the two.  SEAA was
following China with reservations; Prathachulthorn probably knew that China
would be more than willing to beat the hell out of SEAA's mainland
territories otherwise.  The Arab Union had yet to show any signs of support
for anyone; it seemed content to wait things out and see who was most likely
to win.  Europe was leaning towards support of Russia, for the same reasons
SEAA was supporting China.
 
	None of this was public; most was just conjecture, with a bit of
what Sailor Orion knew about geopolitics thrown in.  In public, all the
leaders showed nothing but shock for the recent events, but actions spoke
louder than words.  The armies of the world were mobilizing, and the only
calm spot in the world seemed to be Crystal Tokyo.  No-one knew how long
Crystal Tokyo's neutrality could hold out with two warring powers right on
her doorstep.

	For her part, Sailor America didn't know how long she could hold off
on the most important decision of her life: whether to return and fight for
the land of her birth, or carry out her duties as a senshi in Crystal Tokyo.
 
	"The first round of peace talks will be tomorrow," said Sailor
Orion, pulling out a handlink and typing out a memo to H.M.S. Seiza.  "If
anyone can get Russia and America to back down, Serenity can."
 
	"You think that's why we've been recalled?" asked Sailor America,
still pondering matters.
 
	"To fight a war that hasn't started yet?  Probably not. 
Intelligence probably got a hint of something and decided to take
precautions."
 
	"Yeah,"  America slouched in her seat.  "Her Majesty'll probably
want to stay out of this whole mess anyway.  We won't fire a shot."
 
	"I hope you're right."  She punched a button and watched the screen
of text disappear.  "Earth can't afford another global war."
 
*** 
 
	"Earth cannot afford another war, Ronowski-san." 
 
	"We realize that, Serenity, but at the same time we can't ignore the
facts." The president of the American Confederation looked frazzled: tie
loosened, suit wrinkled, the rings of sleep deprivation around his eyes.  It
was a reminder that he and several others had been working almost around the
clock to avert a war.  "An unprovoked attack was made upon one of our
assets, and we must act to protect our own interests."
 
	"But why *this* way?"  Sailor Mercury leaned over the circular
table, around which sat Serenity, Sailors Mercury and Neptune, President
Ronowski, President Rostov, and a half dozen assorted aides.  She didn't
look fatigued at all.  "Why are you dragging the rest of the world into
this?"
 
	"We aren't!" protested Ronowski.  "Our quarrel is with Russia alone. 
We haven't asked anyone to assist us.  Hong Kong and Wellington are acting
of their own free will, and we would be foolish to refuse their offers."
 
	"But you would be foolish to go through with this at all!"  Sailor
Neptune nearly pounded her fist on the table in frustration.  She turned to
President Rostov, hoping the Russian would be a bit more receptive.  "Don't
you see that there can be no favorable outcome from this war?"
 
	Rostov sighed.  "We've been through this before.  While the AC was
within its rights to annex South America, the latest allegations of human
rights abuses cannot be ignored.  Frankly, I'm rather surprised that Her
Majesty hasn't taken action of her own," he said, gesturing to Serenity.
 
	"If you had been willing to come to us with your evidence,
Rostov-san, you would have found us much more amenable than we are now.  We
were already considering economic sanctions against the American
Confederation, and-"
 
	"Now wait just a minute, you-" 
 
	"Serenity was speaking," said Sailor Neptune in the coldest voice
she had ever used.  "Please don't interrupt."
 
	"I'm sorry," said Ronowski, evading Neptune's glare.  "I've been
under considerable stress lately."
 
	"We all have," said Mercury.  "That's why we're here." 
 
	Rostov stood abuptly.  "I apologize, but as long as the American
Confederation refuses to admit to wrongdoing in South America, these talks
can do no good.  I have other matters to attend to.  Good day." He bowed and
headed for the door, his aides following, ignoring the pleas from Sailor
Mercury to stop and talk.
 
	"Serenity?  What do you plan to do now, eh?"  Ronowski's dark eyes
glittered.  "Are you going to let him carry on with his aggression?  With
his unprovoked attacks on my ships and my people?  Is *this* the love and
justice of Crystal Tokyo?"
 
	Sailor Neptune made as if to respond, but was stopped by a gesture
from Serenity.  "Ronowski-san, be assured that I am keeping a close eye on
this situation.  However, you must realize the position I am in.  I did not
act when your forces overran South America.  I can scarcely do differently
now.  At the moment there is no reason to treat this differently from any
other interconfederational conflict.  I shall continue my efforts at peace,
but if you want military assistance, you shall *not* have it from Crystal
Tokyo.  That, if you like, is love."
 
	Ronowski regarded Serenity for a moment.  "So that's how it is, eh?"
He began to put away the various papers that had accumulated over the day's
session.  "Well, thank you for your efforts, Serenity.  But your assistance
shall not be necessary any longer.  The American Confederation takes care of
its own, peace or war.  Bye."
 
	Ronowski stood and left, leaving his aides to pick up after him. 
Serenity sighed and leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands.  "I must
stop them.  There is no alternative.  Otherwise the destruction will be
unimaginable."
 
	"Neutrality?" asked Neptune. 
 
	"No, that will not do anymore.  I cannot stand by and watch the
world destroy itself.  Something must be done."
 
	Sailors Neptune and Mercury shared glances.  If their ruler had one
fault, it was her stubborn determination to save everyone, even at the cost
of her own life.  Tt was their job to keep her from doing so; one can only
come back to life so many times, after all.
 
	"Something must be done." 
 
*** 
 
	A week later, and despite all the diplomatic efforts the buildup
continued.
 
	Sailor Orion was spending most of her time at Earth headquarters
watching the correlation of forces.  The situation maps of Northeast Asia
showed Chinese and SEAA ground forces gathering in Manchuria, probably to
avoid a desert conflict.  With winter giving way to spring, no-one wanted to
be out there.  Further north, Russia showed no signs of giving way.  Its
army, reinforced with European and Arab regulars, was massing just north of
Manchuria, and on the Kamchatka peninsula as well.  The Americans were
building up in Alaska, prepared for a hard Arctic battle.
 
	With all these hostile parties preparing to kick off a major
conflict just a few hundred kilometers away, Crystal Tokyo was keeping a
close eye on things.  Even as Serenity and the planet senshi, now pressed
into diplomatic service, conducted marathon conference calls at all hours of
the day and night, computers tracked the movements of millions of troops and
thousands of aircraft.
 
	"Rather odd that they picked Manchuria for a meeting spot," she said
idly.  She was on the floor of the cavernous room, but had swiveled her
chair around to face the crow's nest that overlooked everything.  Up there
was Sailor Altair, who had a more or less inside track on how things were
doing, and it was Altair that Orion was speaking to over a headset.
 
	"Yes, perhaps.  But it isn't the only spot.  Things are stating to
look hot in the North Atlantic as well, especially off Newfoundland and
Ireland.  The Arab Union is starting to make some moves on India too, and
SEAA won't be terribly happy about that."
 
	"Yes."  Sailor Orion stared at the main map for a long moment.  Then
she turned and began punching away at the computer.
 
	"Okay, what are you up to?" asked Sailor Altair, looking over the
railing at Orion's typing.
 
	"What's Africa doing in all this?  I mean, sure things are seriously
screwed there, but not one of the confederations has tried to make an
alliance.  Hell, that one pretender in Kenya made a public offer of support
for Ronowski and got ignored."
 
	"Hm . . . I'll relay that to the higher-ups.  Are you willing to
back this up?"
 
	"Not yet," said Sailor Orion.  "I'd have to go through the numbers a
bit more.  It *is* interesting, though." A few minutes of relative silence
passed.  "Any news from upstairs?"
 
	"None.  They're still talking, I suppose." 
 
	"Then I hope they continue." 
 
*** 
 
	Upstairs, Sailor Mars was in her office, sorting through pages of
analyses.  The AIs were good at scrounging up data and correlating it, but
prioritizing was something that was still best left to a human.
 
	She looked at another handlink.  This one noted that on 3 February, 
while Prime Minister Mina Cabot had been giving a speech in Nantes, France, 
EU, a woman looking remarkably similar to her had been spotted in Calgary.  
By itself this meant nothing, as the AI which produced the report had 
pointed out.  But there were similar occurrences with increasing frequency.  
Looking back over the past year, there was a definite pattern.  It appeared 
as if the six leaders of the world had been meeting over the past two years 
and tried to keep it secret.  Why? 
 
	She looked at the clock.  Serenity was due for a lunch break.  Might
as well call a senshi conference and bring this up.  Then the phone rang. 
"Yes?" She listened for a few moments, and then put down the handset, hands
trembling.  It was definitely time for a meeting.
 
*** 
 
	Admiral Bailey paced back and forth aboard the flagship of the
Southeast Asian Alliance Navy, growing increasingly nervous while the ship
did manuvers off the Phillipines.  It seemed impossible that they should
have made it so far, but there they were.  Six days until Dagger and Spinal
Tap began, and Crystal Tokyo still showed no signs of knowing anything was
amiss.
 
	He had to admit that at the beginning he hadn't had much hope for
success.  There was simply no way that something so huge could be covered up
for long.  Even with all the precautions they had taken, it seemed
inevitable that something had to be leaked.  It seemed even more likely now. 
More and more of the military was being told their true objective and now
knew that their enemy was neither Russia nor America, but rather Serenity
and Crystal Tokyo.  It was a psychological campaign of immense proportions,
getting the military in the proper mindset to fight a war they weren't
expecting.  Sometimes even he got caught up in the ruse and began acting
snappishly at his Russian counterparts.  There were some days when he read
the papers and found it hard to believe that he *wasn't* about to blast the
hell out of Russia.
 
	"Sir."  His adjutant knocked on the door of his office before 
entering, breaking in on his thoughts.  "We've just gotten word from the 
Sakhalins.  C Force is ready to move into position." 
 
	"Good, very good.  Thank you."  The adjutant saluted and made for
the door.  "Oh, one more thing.  Any more news on Heartbreaker?"
 
	The adjutant sighed.  "More news, sir, but none of it's good. 
America insists that they need two more weeks before the mass produced units
are ready for shipment."
 
	"And the plan doesn't provide for our using the handful of
prototypes we have, does it?" asked Bailey rhetorically.  "No matter, I feel
quite confident at this stage.  We've got the two weeks' surprise I wanted;
we can win."
 
	"Yes, sir." 
 
*** 
 
	Two days later, Sailor Cassiopeia raced into the room.  It wasn't
called the war room yet, not by anyone, but it had the atmosphere of one: in
a subbasement of the Crystal Palace, just a couple levels above RSN Earth
Headquarters, the walls close and imposing, the lights harsh and garish.  It
was there that Sailor Cassiopeia saw her sovereign for the first time as
anything less than kind and composed.
 
	"Your Majesty, sirs, I came as soon as I could."  In actuality
they'd caught her while in the shower.  She'd transformed while still
dripping wet, and was simply hoping that when she detransformed that night
she would be dry.  Sailors Mars, Neptune, and Jupiter were there, along with
Serenity and Endymion.  Cassiopeia tried to hide her surprise; he was almost
never present at the crisis meetings that were a nearly hourly occasion. 
"Your Majesties, I mean," she quickly amended.
 
	"Glad you could come," said Endymion. 
 
	"Let's get to business." Sailor Mars looked slightly ill.  "We've
had some new developments, and one of them concerns you.  So as soon as we
can-"
 
	The door opened again, and Sailor America entered.  "Your 
Majesty . . . er, Majesties, sirs," she said, bowing.  "You sent for me?"
 
	"Yes," said Mars, slightly chilly now, "as I was saying we've got
serious business to attend to." 
 
	Sailors America and Cassiopeia sat together at the far end of the
oblong table from Serenity and Endymion.  At the head of the room, a screen
lit up with the faces of the other planet senshi.  Sailors Mercury, Venus,
and Uranus shared one screen on the moon, and Saturn's screen showed her to
be a couple floors down at Earth HQ.  Sailor Moon appeared to be in transit.
 
	"I'll be brief," began Mars.  "This entire thing, from the sinking
of the American ship onwards, has been a sham."
 
	"WHAT?" half a dozen voices roared at once. 
 
	"A sham.  A ruse," she spat out.  "We're still trying to figure out
how long they've had this planned . . . suffice to say this is the biggest
failure of our intelligence department since the attempted takeover a couple
years ago, and quite possibly the worst ever.
 
	"At the moment, we have fairly hard evidence that Russia and America
aren't as at odds as we thought, and we've virtually confirmed that SEAA and
Russia are cooperating.  We've intercepted a couple communications between
them . . . by the way, Serenity-sama, I'm requesting that the techs who
engineered that miracle get the Golden Crescent; without that bit of
information we might still be taken in by this ruse.  In any case, they're
in cooperation.  And once that's taken into consideration . . . ."
 
	"It becomes a lot easier to see why Russia chose now to pick a fight
with America, and why Manchuria is suddenly a popular place." Endymion ran a
hand through his hair, proving that he wasn't just a fifth wheel in the
Crystal Tokyo military.  The army that he commanded may lack respect around
the world, but his mind for tactics and strategy was a force to be reckoned
with.  As if to prove this, he was in the Royal Army uniform which
he almost never wore.  It was closely modeled on the uniforms worn by his
four protectors thousands of years ago, when he was the Prince of Earth, and
he had fallen in love with a young beauty from the Moon.
 
	"You bet," said Sailor Jupiter, who looked like she was ready to go
out and take on the entire world by herself.  "If all the other
confederations were so eager to jump in . . . ." She trailed off, and Sailor
Cassiopeia almost thought she could smell a hint of ozone in the air.
 
	"The only thing this doesn't answer is why, though," said Sailor
Mercury.  "And no, Jupiter, I won't accept the standard 'they're out to get
us' deal.  That doesn't answer why they picked *now*."
 
	"I don't know, perhaps a new technological breakthrough?  We didn't
hear anything before, but if something this big could leak through . . . ."
 
	"Fine," said Sailor Uranus, "I think we've talked enough about what
happened.  What we need to decide now is how to act."
 
	"I shall contact President Ronowski immediately," said Serenity. 
 
	"Good," Saturn Saturn agreed, "he seems to be the most powerful of
the six right now."
 
	"Your Majesty," began Mars, "you know what I'm going to say.  While 
it's perfectly noble to try and sue for peace, we must be realistic.  The 
armies of six confederations are right on our doorstep, and we have very 
good reason to believe that they're all hostile.  We *must* prepare for the 
worst possibility." 
 
	"Agreed," chimed in Jupiter, and Sailors Venus and Neptune nodded
their assent.  "Mobilize the armed forces immediately and put the senshi on
stage two alert.  The enemy could strike at any time."
 
	Sailor Saturn frowned.  "Provoking them is just what we've got to 
avoid, isn't it?" 
 
	"Or what?" asked Sailor America, speaking up for the first time. 
"They'll get mauled in the press?  Trust me, they don't care how they look
in the world's opinion, because they *are* the world's opinion.  The only
group that could possibly disapprove or impose sanctions would be Africa,
and we know how much force *they* wield!"
 
	Sailor Uranus narrowed her eyes.  "Thank you, Sailor *America*, but
I don't believe you were called here to give your military assessment." The
underlying message was clear: your country has done enough damage.  Don't
give us another reason to mistrust you.
 
	To the brunette's relief, Cassiopeia immediately stepped in.  "Beg 
pardon, Sailor Uranus, but I think it does have some bearing." 
 
	"Yes, and in any case it can't hurt to get Africa's assistance," 
chimed in Mercury.  "We've been trying to revitalize the region for over a 
century, and this might be the best opportunity, as sad as it may be." 
 
	"People," said Sailor Mars in a voice close to the breaking point,
"can we stay on topic?  We have to decide upon a course of action *now*. 
Every second counts."
 
	"Your Majesty, I think it would be best if you began conferring with
the Allied leaders," Sailor Jupiter said.  "But I fear that that will at
best only buy us time.  And while crucial, time alone won't win the war. 
We've got to mobilize the army.  It would fall under the national defense
clause.  If you like, we could call it a drill.  That wouldn't panic the
populace, would it?"
 
	"I'm afraid it would," replied Cassiopeia.  "They're already 
frightened over the current state of affairs." 
 
	"So are we," said Saturn quietly. 
 
	"But we've still got to have a call-up!" retorted Jupiter. 
 
	"A partial call-up," said Sailor Moon.  "Move the active divisions
to Kyushu and Hokkaido, and call up the reserves on those islands as well. 
Do it slowly and quietly, and hopefully the public won't be overly alarmed."
 
	The senshi considered this for a moment.  Serenity only needed a
moment; she considered it an excellent compromise.  'She'll make a fine
Queen someday,' thought Serenity.  'Better than me, even.' "Very well.  We
will proceed as per Sailor Moon's suggestion."
 
	"Your Majesty, I-" 
 
	"That is enough," said Serenity.  "No more argument on the subject.  
We will do as Sailor Moon suggests, I will try my best to convince Ronowski-
san to avoid bloodshed, and that is all." 
 
	The more militant senshi could do nothing more but nod assent.  
Serenity turned to Sailors America and Cassiopeia. 
 
	"Sailor Cassiopeia, you have done an excellent job in the past few 
weeks.  Your dealings with foreigners have been exemplary.  Therefore, you 
are hereby appointed to my diplomatic staff.  You and three other senshi are 
charged with the responsibility of making peace through words and 
understanding, not guns and missiles. 
 
	"Sailor America."  She smiled.  "I think you know what you are about 
to do.  You have held the post of Secretary of Public Relations before.  I 
would like for you to hold it again, until this crisis is past." 
 
	America gulped.  To hold what was probably the most prominent post a
non-planet senshi could hold?  Admittedly, she didn't have nearly as much
power as her counterparts; it was simply that she was more in the spotlight. 
Now, when it seemed that America and the rest of the world was ready to
launch a full-scale assault on the islands of Japan, Serenity wanted one of
the foreign senshi to represent Crystal Tokyo.
 
	Sailor America didn't need to look around.  She could feel the
glares of the other senshi, and she could feel the glare of her inner soul. 
She sighed as she realized that Jen had already made the decision for her,
though.  Abandoning her oath to Serenity was one thing.  Being on the other
side of the battlefield from Orion was unthinkable.  She was no longer an
American, but a sailor senshi with the faith and trust of Serenity.  In that
case . . . .
 
	"It would be an honor, Your Majesty."  It's going to be fun
explaining this one to Jen . . . .
 
	"Very good, thank you."  She stood.  "I think this meeting has
served its purpose, and I think that I have some phone calls to make. 
Goodbye." She bowed and made her way out, followed by Endymion and, after a
brief pause, Cassiopeia.  The others sat for a few moments.
 
	"Well, you heard her," said Jupiter.  "Let's get to work.  We've got
a nation to save!"
 
	Sailor America sighed.  "Weeeeee." 
 
=========================== 
Begun: 21:06 13 May 1998 
Finished: 18:25 16 May 1998 
Final draft: 09:41 20 May 1998
Final edit: 01:48 22 February 2001
 
 
======================================== 
Episode #306: Post Time at Crystal Tokyo 
======================================== 
 
Crystal Tokyo 
30 March 3035 
 
	Royal Star Navy's Earth Headquarters was the backup command center
of the military, and as such shared many characteristics with the main
command center on the Moon.  The same basic format: rows of consoles, a few
status screens, command post overlooking the entire cavernous chamber.  It
was also the center from which the Royal Army was commanded, which was the
main reason that it was as crowded as the proverbial Irish bar on St. 
Patrick's Day.  Then again, few in the room even knew what St. Patrick's Day
was.
 
	Sailor Jupiter was in the crow's nest, another name for the command
post that overlooked it all, watching the status screens.  On one was a map
of Japan and the surrounding area, with red dots indicating estimated Allied
troop positions, and attached vectors showing where they were supposed to be
going.  The southern Korean peninsula was almost solid red, as were the
Kuril Islands and Sakahlin to the north.  All the vectors pointed to either
end of Japan.  Needless to say, this was a bad thing.  "Any word from
Kyushu?"
 
	"No, sir," reported a tech.  "Wait, something coming in now . . .
yes, heavy jamming reported on what appears to be the entire northwest coast
of Kyushu.  Range estimates are around one hundred kilometers."
 
	Sailor Neptune looked over from her computer.  She was breaking
precedent; usually only one planet senshi was in the room at a time.  She
had a particular interest in things at the moment.
 
	"Jupiter, our submarines aren't picking up anything out there." 
 
	Jupiter didn't ask if she was sure about that.  You didn't work
alongside someone for a thousand years without figuring out the answer to
that yourself.  The brunette just looked at another screen.  This one showed
Kyushu in detail, or more properly the portion closest to Japan.  A
half-dozen white dots indicated the submarines of Crystal Tokyo, which had
never seen actual warfare.  Judging from the scale on the map, the subs
appeared to be about to intercept whatever was being hidden by the jamming. 
There were no dots for Allied submarines, which frightened her terribly.

	Sometimes she looked at all the technology around her and wondered
what had happened.  It seemed like only yesterday that the only computer the
senshi depended on was the one in Sailor Mercury's "pocket." She felt
dreadfully out of place in this room, a chamber that looked like it belonged
on a spaceship.  "Neptune, see if you can-"
 
	"AIR WARNING RED AIR WARNING RED!"  The female voice was panicked;
probably some junior technician who hadn't even known that what was
happening could be possible until days, possibly hours ago.  "Multiple
missiles incoming, bearing zero-zero-one, altitude five thousand meters!"
 
	"What?"  Jupiter cast a quick glance up at the Crystal Tokyo status
board.  The radar showed clear skies.  "Where?  Is that a confirmed report?"
She raised her voice; the ambient noise in the room had increased quite a
bit as notices and warnings were relayed.
 
	"Trying to figure that out, sir," said Yasunari Konda, technically
the talker.  However, he was being overridden again and again.  Jupiter
could only sigh.

	"Missile defenses are now up, running at eighty-eight percent
efficiency," someone sang out.
 
	"Where was that?" 
 
	"Reporting amphibious groups landing!  Requesting permission to
retaliate!"
 
	"Multiple fighters taking off from Korean peninsula, intercept in
four minutes!"
 
	"Now receiving damage estimates!" 
 
	"DAMMIT, BE QUIET!"  The room fell silent.  Sailor Jupiter picked up
her rarely used headset and spoke into it so that everyone would hear her. 
"We have a talker for a reason.  You will make your reports to your section
heads as we've drilled.  Is that clear?"
 
	A chorus of yeses. 
 
	"Good.  Get to work." 
 
	"Sailor Jupiter, we've managed to clear things up a bit.  The threat
board's gone a bit haywire for the moment, though, you probably want to
ignore it for the moment.
 
	"Fine, talk to me." 
 
	"We have a flock of missiles incoming on bearing zero-two-zero,
count about fifty or sixty.  Will be within firing range in thirty seconds
maximum.  Laser intercepts are ready.  We have an unconfirmed, say again
unconfirmed report of amphibious landings on Kyushu.  Unsure on strength,
just some civilian who phoned in."
 
	"Hold it right there," said Jupiter.  "Do we have any land mines
there?"
 
	A flurry of activity.  The talker spoke into his microphone,
somewhere on the floor below a technician punched some buttons, spoke into
their microphone, and ten seconds later came the reply.  "No sir, against
standing orders."
 
	"By who?" 
 
	"Her Majesty." 
 
	Jupiter refrained from pounding the wall in frustration; there
wasn't time for that.  "See if we can whistle up a scout plane or two, try
to confirm that.  And get me Serenity-sama."
 
	"Yes sir.  Hold, missiles are within intercept range in five, four,
three, two, one, now.  Lasers firing."

*** 
 
	It was early morning.  On the northern tip of Hokkaido, the skies
were slowly turning from pink to orange.  The sea breeze began to pick up,
ruffling the waves of the sea and the hair of the few dozen Royal Army
regulars who had been hastily put on lookout duty.
 
	The call for full alert status had come just an hour before; at
least one of them was still wearing his pajama top.  They knew nothing of
what was going on; it seemed only a week ago that all was well with the
world, and that there was no threat to their country.  Now, Crystal Tokyo
was apparently at the heart of an international conspiracy to overthrow
Serenity, and if the radar stations were to be believed, several dozen
missiles were coming as proof.
 
	"Tallyho!"  The group of men and women looked up at once to the
north.  Those with the best eyesight could pick out faint smoke trails from
what were presumably enemy missiles, each packing what for the thirty-first
century was a conventional warhead.  A twentieth century observer would have
seen nothing conventional about it; the destructive power was mind
boggling.
 
	"Goggles, everyone!"  They reached into pockets, grabbing the
anti-glare goggles everyone was required to wear.  Considering the power
behind the anti-air lasers, not wearing them was an invitation for
blindness.
 
	No-one saw the first blast from the lasers, based a kilometer or so
inland.  There was simply a puff of fire and smoke that from a distance
looked slightly like fireworks.  Then another puff, and another, and
another.  By now enough smoke and dust was building up to make the beams
visible, and in combination they looked like an orange-yellow curtain
cutting across the sky.
 
*** 
 
	"First wave repulsed," reported the talker.  "One hundred percent
kill rate reported."
 
	Sailor Jupiter breathed a sigh of relief.  Something was finally
going right with this whole mess.  "Good.  Keep all laser defenses at full
alert, and-"
 
	"Contact lost with H.M.S. Shinozaki and Yuuichiro." 
 
	"WHAT?" 
 
	"Contact lost, sir.  Shinozaki was in the middle of sending a
routine status report when they just went off the air.  We're having no
success in raising them."
 
	"Could be jamming," noted a general thoughtfully.  He was rather
miffed that he and the rest of the non-senshi military staff had been more
or less forced to take a holiday in the present circumstances, but at least
they were still there.  "It's been heavy on the south side, why not start
from the north?"
 
	"Anything?" asked Jupiter. 
 
	"No, sir," replied the talker.  "Jamming remains restricted to the
west side of Kyushu.  Except for that missile attack, Hokkaido is quiet."
 
	"Very well," said Sailor Jupiter, "Until we get more information
we'll presume the subs to be lost." Shinozaki and Yuuichiro were part of the
miniscule Royal Sea Navy.  They had been hurriedly assigned to the seas
around Japan, hoping to score hits against any possible amphibious landings. 
Now two of the six had been removed from the board in a single stroke.

	"Sir, revised notice on the previous amphibious attack.  Apparently
the ground reporters panicked."

	"Ah," said Jupiter, "some good news."
 
	"Jamming coming in sir, northeast coast of Hokkaido.  It's of
comparable strength to the southern jamming."
 
	"We have no choice, do we?" asked Jupiter.  She looked over to
Sailor Neptune.
 
	"Serenity was clear on this.  We're to remain passive until the
first sign of attack."
 
	"But we were just-" 
 
	"Message coming in from Kiev, sir." 
 
	"Kiev?  What do the Russians want to talk about now?"  Jupiter
turned.  "Neptune?"
 
	The senshi had the Mirror handy, but it was as unhelpful as it had
been since the beginning of the crisis.  "I can't tell.  But Serenity-sama
would probably have our heads if we didn't at least try to pull out a
peaceful solution."
 
	Sailor Jupiter sighed.  This was all so much responsibility.  "Is
Serenity available?"
 
	A pause while the lines were checked.  "No sir, she's in conference
with President Ronowski at the moment.  She's left word that she's only to
be interrupted for matters of extreme emergency."
 
	"Such as?" 
 
	"She didn't say." 
 
	"Great."  She almost asked what else could go wrong that day. 
Considering how things had gone so far, she got the idea that that would be
an invitation for something even worse to happen.  It was obvious that
tempting fate was not a good thing to try at the moment.  "Sailor Neptune,
I'm going upstairs, maybe Cassiopeia can be of help.  If there's any change
in status, call me.  Oh, and I want increased surveillance surrounding
Crystal Tokyo.  The surrounding fifty kilometers are to be considered
restricted airspace.  Put the senshi on stage two alert."
 
	"Aye aye, sir." 
 
*** 
 
	Jennifer Sakachi was reading through news bulletins in her bedroom
when the call came through the palace-wide announcement system.
 
	"Attention all sailor senshi, attention all sailor senshi.  A stage
two alert is now in effect, say again a stage two alert is now in effect. 
Thank you."
 
	She blinked.  Eileen was probably with Serenity at the moment,
either that or still trying to calm the populace.  They hadn't taken the
mobilization of the Army regulars very well; already she was hearing rumors
from her ties at the University of Crystal Tokyo that peace demonstrations
may be held if Serenity didn't make a bold stroke of nonviolence.
 
	"Dammit.  Orion Star Power, Make-up!"  The obligatory light show
followed, and the slightly frazzled looking Jennifer Sakachi was replaced
with a cool, calm, composed Sailor Orion.  She left the apartment and went
for the elevator.  Under the rules of a stage two alert, senshi had top
priority.  So when the car started moving down to her post down at Earth HQ,
she was surprised when it stopped a few floors later.
 
	"Hi," said Sailor Phoenix.  Sailor Orion looked down at her, one of
the tallest and one of the shortest senshi in the same elevator.  "Going
down, I assume?" she asked with a smile.
 
	"Yes." 
 
	"I hear they fired some missiles this morning.  You know anything
about that?"
 
	Sailor Orion raised her eyebrows.  "First I've heard of it."  She
pulled out her handlink and began tapping away.  "News nets don't have
anything yet . . . then again, it's all been happening so fast.  Could be
they haven't been able to get the news out yet."
 
	"Well, if-" 
 
	She was interrupted by the blare of an alert siren.  "Attention all
Palace personnel.  Crystal Tokyo is now on stage one alert.  Repeat, Crystal
Tokyo is now on stage one alert.  Civilians are to report to their emergency
shelters immediately.  Emergency personnel are to report to their stations. 
That is all."
 
	Phoenix and Orion shared a glance.  Then the elevator accelerated
even faster.
 
*** 
 
	"Multiple missiles incoming, bearing two-zero-eight.  Range ninety
kilometers and closing fast.  Estimated impact in twenty seconds. 
Antimissile defenses are online, intercept time ten seconds, mark."
 
	Sailor Jupiter looked up at the status screens, arms crossed. 
Another missile attack, this one from the southwest and aimed at Crystal
Tokyo itself.  Whoever was firing them had to know that the city had the
best missile defense system in the world.  This had to be purely
psychological.
 
	"Intercept in five, four, three, two, one."  A pause.  On the map,
the green traces of missile tracks began to terminate just outside of the
city.  "Reporting one hundred percent kill rate."
 
	"It's psychological," said Sailor America.  Her face took up most of one 
of the smaller status screens; America herself was in her office.  "This is a 
spoiling attack; they just want to scare the citizens.  And it's working.  
Over five hundred calls to the authorities in just five seconds." 
 
	"Trying to rattle us, eh?" 
 
	"Mm-hm." 
 
	"Okay.  Keep me informed . . . wait, shouldn't you be down here?" 
 
	Sailor America blushed slightly.  "Well . . . actually, I had some
things to attend to up here, and-"
 
	"A stage one alert is still a stage one alert, America."  She
sighed.  "Never mind, we're going back to stage two anyway.  Stay up there
if you must." She turned to her talker.  "Stand down from stage one, inform
the proper authorities, and for Pete's sake turn off those flashing red
lights!"
 
	The room calmed down noticeably just as a trio of senshi came onto
the floor.  Sailor Orion took a seat near the end of a row of computers and
slipped on a headset, waiting for instructions.  Above, Jupiter scowled.
 
	"Okay, two missile attacks and a bit of jamming.  What are you up
to, my adversaries?"
 
	She didn't have to wait long.  "Sir, we've lost contact with
Tsushima Island."
 
	"Tsushima?"  Tsushima was a fifty-kilometer long island in the
Korean Strait.  In the past few days it had been part of the challenge for
Crystal Tokyo, resupplying it without looking "overtly hostile," as the
directive from Serenity had put it.  There hadn't even been enough time to
put reliable communications on the largely unpopulated island.
 
	"Yes, the outpost there failed to check in ten minutes ago as
scheduled.  It's still overcast there; satellites aren't picking up
anything."
 
	"Hm . . . send out a surveillance plane.  Or would that be against
Serenity's wishes as well?"
 
	"Not as I understand them, sir." 
 
	"Good.  Do it." 
 
	"Yes sir." One of the worst things about armed combat is the
waiting.  Sailor Jupiter and the rest of Earth headquarters had quite a bit
of waiting to do as the plane was sent out.  The fruits of the waiting:
"We've lost contact with the plane, sir.  Uplink is gone."
 
	Jupiter looked up at the status screens for a moment, watching the
radar haze that still covered the Kyushu and Hokkaido coast.  "Right, call
that a loss." She didn't think about the families of the plane's crew of
eight.  That would come later, as she lay in bed trying to get to sleep. 
For now, she only thought of threat estimates and counterattacks.  "Well."
She looked around the crow's nest at the assorted techs, senshi, and
officers.  "If anyone has any suggestions of what we can do instead of
sitting here and twiddling our thumbs?  And remember, we can't do anything
blatantly aggresive."
 
	"How about we talk Serenity-sama into letting us launch a preemptive
attack?" suggested a junior rating.
 
	Sailor Jupiter turned to look at the man . . . boy, really, only
nineteen.  He gulped, thinking that he had overstepped his bounds.  The two
looked at each other.  Finally, she blinked.
 
	"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  She doubled over and leaned on a chair,
laughing uproariously.  "Ask her for authorization for a preemptive strike!"
She managed to get into the seat, still laughing.  "Kami-sama, I needed that
laugh." Some of the other senshi and techs laughed as well.  Those who
didn't laugh wondered if Jupiter had crossed the line into insanity.
 
	"Oh dear, we've still got the problem though, don't we?"  She sighed
and had a last chuckle.  "Okay, I want-"
 
	"Sir, reports of amphibious assault on Kyushu coast.  Appears to be
a broad attack on a hundred-kilometer wide front.  Local commander is
requesting reinforcements . . . yes, we've got confirmation of this one
too."
 
	The echo of the announcement died down, and the room fell quiet for
three long seconds.  Then all hell broke loose.
 
	"Who's in charge down there?" asked Sailor Neptune, deadly serious.
 
	"Sailor Procyon, sir.  Getting additional reports, sir, resistance
is being offered, but it's looking very close so far.  She's screaming for
help."
 
	"She's got it, in more ways than one."  Jupiter took a deep breath. 
"Serenity can hate me later for it, but I've got to react.  All senshi are
now at stage one alert.  Get Endymion on the line, I want him down here. 
Put the Royal Army on full alert status and call up all reserves.  Where's
Saturn?"
 
	She didn't wait for the answer, but instead looked up at the status
board.  It was beginning to light up like a Christmas display, with live
video, charts, graphs, maps, and so on.  She looked at the top corner and
found that Sailor Saturn was on her way to the Palace.
 
	"Contact Sailor Saturn.  Tell her to get to forward command at," she
looked at the map, "Kurume, and relieve Procyon.  We need to get control
down there before things get out of hand.  Where's Mars?"
 
	"Upstairs, sir.  Orders for mobilization are being put into effect
now.  Stage one alert now in effect.  Endymion is with Serenity right now
and can't be reached-"
 
	"Shit!  We're going to have to let her know too . . . I'll take care
of that personally.  Reserves?"
 
	"We're working on it, sir.  Saturn is being contacted now.  No
further word from Kyushu."
 
	The door to the crow's nest opened, and Sailor Mars jogged out,
followed by Uranus.  "You rang?" asked the senshi of fire.
 
	"I need suggestions.  I'm sending senshi down to lend the Army a
hand, you know, scenario eleven.  Anyone that stands out in particular?"
 
	The three, and then four as Sailor Neptune came over and joined them, 
began to trade ideas.  Down on the floor, Orion was being pressed into service 
giving secondary orders, taking care of the hard work of telling individual 
units to begin moving. 
 
	"Nemuro base reported a ground attack and went off the air.  Nothing
heard from them since." Orion looked up at the map.  Nemuro was on the
northeast corner of Hokkaido, right next to the Kuril islands.  "Wakkanai
reported ground troops and went off the air.  Wait, strike that.  We have
secondary reports coming out of Wakkanai.  Resistance is feeble but
spirited.  They're reporting a great numerical disadvantage."
 
	"Forward commander at Wakkanai?" asked Sailor Jupiter, breaking the
huddle.
 
	"It was Sailor Vega, sir, but it wasn't Vega who gave the last
report."
 
	"Can you confirm where she is?" 
 
	"No sir, communications are still shaky.  The land lines are going."
 
	"Dammit."  She rubbed her forehead.  "Um . . . how are things in
Kyushu?"
 
	"No change." 
 
	"That settles it, then."  She decided to act before she realized
what she was doing and got scared away.  "I'm going up there." She turned to
the other planet senshi.  "We'll go with the list we drew up, and if there
are any holes we'll plug them when we find them."
 
	"Jupiter, you-" 
 
	"I'm the deputy commander in chief, Sailor Uranus!  We need
experience up there right now, before things get out of control, and I'm
going, dammit!" She turned from the stunned Uranus to the talker.  "Command
of Royal Star Navy Earth Headquarters is turned over to Sailor Uranus,
effective immediately." Uranus was next in line after Saturn, who was on her
way south to oversee matters.  "I'm going."
 
	Down on the floor, Sailor Orion heard none of this.  She didn't even
hear the notice of change in commanders, being too busy with receiving and
giving other orders.  She did notice, however, when she got the message.
 
	"Repeat, the following sailors are to report to Crystal Tokyo
Central Rail Station for transport to Hokkaido."
 
	She listened to the list of names in her headset, then snapped up at
the mention of her name.  "Dear God.  I'm going to fight a war." She took
off her headset and ran for the door, hoping it wasn't for the last time.
 
======================== 

Begun: 16:15 14 April 1998 
Finished: 23:05 16 April 1998 
Final: 22:15 6 July 1998
Final edit: 02:49 22 February 2001
 
 
============================================ 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A relatively original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #307: The Hundred Minute War 
============================================ 
 
Crystal Tokyo
30 March 3035

	"To repeat, a state of emergency has been declared for the Japanese
islands.  All military personnel are to report to their posts immediately. 
All civilians should either report to their emergency posts or remain home
and wait for further instructions.  To repeat, a state of emergency . . . ."
 
	The message was being repeated over and over again on almost all
forms of communications.  The streets of Crystal Tokyo were rapidly emptying
as workers raced home to their families.  At the same time, more and more
military transports were rumbling through, carrying Navy and Army reservists
and regulars who were themselves trying to figure out what was going on from
public broadcasts.
 
	Sailor America was pleased to note everything was being conducted in
an orderly fashion as she stepped away from the window of her office.  No
riots, no looting, just everyone calmly doing his or her job.  A press
conference was scheduled in just a few minutes, and she was still compiling
notes on what to say.  She knew she had to be comforting, but the latest
information she had was far from it.
 
	It was now mid afternoon, edging towards evening, and twelve hours
into the conflict.  The invading Allies were far from being expelled; in
fact she had just finished reading a report stating commanders on the scene
were advocating a strategic withdrawal in Hokkaido.  Their immediate
superior, a sailor senshi, had refused the request.  No senshi in her right
mind would cede more land to the enemy unless all other avenues were
exhausted.
 
	Then again, at the very beginning the sailor senshi hadn't been in
charge.  The hastily assembled armored cavalry and infantry units had been
poorly organized, and as a result they'd been forced to trade space for
time.  The Allies now had secure footholds on Hokkaido and Kyushu: precisely
what the senshi had wanted to avoid.  Little wonder the Royal Army
commanders had been essentially removed from command.  The unspoken
sentiment was clear: let the real fighters have a try at it.
 
	The phone rang suddenly, shocking her out of her reverie.  She got
up and punched the button.  "Yes?"
 
	"Hi, it's Jen." 
 
	"Jen!"  She looked at a handlink and began hunting for information. 
"Where are you?"
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion looked up from the communicator and out the window,
watching the landscape flash by.  "In a train heading north to the front."
 
	"THE FRONT?!?  What the hell are you doing there!" 
 
	"Orders.  I'm on Sailor Jupiter's personal staff now, I'm afraid."
 
*** 
 
	Sailor America sat in her seat, shocked.  To be sure, it shouldn't
have come as such a surprise.  Almost all the senshi she knew were being
moved into emergency positions: either south on Kyushu with Sailor Saturn,
north on Hokkaido with Sailor Jupiter, or here in Crystal Tokyo doing crisis
work.  Even space was becoming empty, with senshi leaving their ships and
returning to Earth; after all, those ships wouldn't be able to do much more
than resupply anyway.  Somehow, though, she'd thought some kind of exception
would be made to keep them together.  "Personal staff?" 
 
	"Assistant to the assistant to the adjutant.  I'm still not quite
sure what that means, but somehow I get the impression it won't just be
clerical work," she said wryly.
 
	Sailor America didn't know what to say.  "You . . . you'll . . . ."
 
	"I'll be back before you know it, Eileen.  Don't get melodramatic on
me, silly," she replied, forcing a laugh.  "Anyway, any new news?"
 
	The brunette sighed.  "Nope, afraid not.  Peace talks have pretty
much broken down.  Serenity's still trying, but the Allies think they can
win decisively.  It doesn't look like any of the planet senshi are expecting
peace anytime soon."
 
	"Hm.  How's the populace doing?" 
 
	"Not good.  There was another missile attack this morning.  All the
missiles were destroyed, but . . . this was the second one in a row. 
Getting all of Crystal Tokyo into their shelters and back twice in a day is
too stressful.  They're either going to rally around Serenity to a degree
we've never seen before or start open calls for peace, even if it means
surrender."
 
	"Wonderful.  Look, I've got to go now.  Talk to you later, okay?" 
 
	There were a thousand things America wanted to say to her, but what
choice did she have?  "Okay." America closed the connection and leaned back
in her seat.  Then she sat bolt upright.
 
	"Air warning, air warning.  Crystal Tokyo is under attack.  All
citizens are requested to report to their emergency shelters immediately. 
Repeat, air warning, air warning . . . ."
 
	"Dammit!" cried Sailor America, grabbing a handlink and shoving it
into nowhere.  "I know there's a war going on, but can't a girl get some
rest?" She dashed out the door and to the elevator.
 
*** 
 
	On the island of Kyushu, the real war was being fought.  It was a
tiny village named Wataru, whose population of five hundred had been
evacuated inland.  Of the village, nothing much remained.  In the space of a
few hours, continued missile attacks had turned the place into rubble.  What
little remained was being fought over by two groups: one a unit of two
hundred troops and twelve armored vehicles under Chinese command, and the
other a unit of fifty troops and one armored vehicle under the command of
Sailor Procyon, a department head just a few weeks ago.
 
	She grumbled from her foxhole, breathing in a breath of dust and
fear.  The forward command post had been flattened in one of the endless
bombing raids, and she had been lucky to get out alive.  Now she did her
commanding from a hastily dug hole in the ground.  Her problem was quite
simple.  With even limited battlefield computers capable of keeping track of
multiple targets, it was a relatively simple matter to arrange a number of
lasers around a susceptible target, assuming of course that there was a
nearby power source to accomodate them.  These lasers were guided by
computer to destroy incoming missiles, but the catch was twofold.

	First, while powerful,  the lasers were not infinite.  It required
three or four seconds' sustained firing to be certain of disabling a
missile, and when the missiles were flying as fast was they were that was
quite a feat.
 
	The second was related to the first, but only slightly.  When
confronted with too many targets, the computerss had a tendency to go crazy. 
It had confounded the techs during live fire exercises, and proven that
artificial intelligence still had a way to go.  In combat, this translated
to a new strategy: overwhelm the computers with a lot of cheap, easily made,
low-yield missiles, in the hope that with so many numbers one or two were
bound to leak through.  Leak they did, must to the dismay of the
simulators . . . or at least the Crystal Tokyo ones.
 
	The upshot: this particular group of Allied troops had a vast supply
of ground to ground missiles, and a commander who hadn't been afraid to use
them.  The result: a destroyed city, a dead command post, and a sailor
senshi who knew both that she was outnumbered and that she was the only
thing between the Allies and five kilometers of free territory.  She'd
called repeatedly for reinforcements, but so had every other commander on
the island.  She knew they wouldn't come, that there was no-one able to
come.  There was just her and some infantry, so there was nothing left to do
but fight.  In the final analysis, she knew, all the magic at her disposal
simply couldn't hope to stand against the sheer numbers and power that were
against her.
 
	She slipped on her headset, hoping that enough men and women still
had theirs, and that they were still functioning.  "People, I've called for
backup but we probably won't get it for a few hours, if at all.  We've got
to make shift for ourselves.  Unit commanders, report!"
 
	She heard only silence. 
 
	"C'mon, talk to me!" 
 
	"S-s-s-s-sir?" 
 
	"Who is this?"  The voice didn't sound familiar. 
 
	"Um . . . this is Private Ayamaru, sir, I'm from fifty-sixth
tactical-"
 
	"Where's your commanding officer?" 
 
	"She's . . . she's dead, sir.  Shrapnel wound to the head, I don't
know what to do with the body . . . ."
 
	Sailor Procyon thought quickly.  A private who joined up so he'd
have two years in the military that would look good on his resume, probably
hadn't bargained on this any more than anyone else.  He also seemed to be
the only one with a working headset.  She realized at that point that she
was doomed to failure.  It didn't matter that she was Her Majesty's official
historian, it didn't matter that she was a sailor senshi.  They were
outgunned and outnumbered.  Damned if she was going to go out quietly,
though.
 
	"Okay, Ayamaru, listen up.  We've got five hundred civilians behind
us, and they need all the time they can get, so we're going to buy it for
them.  Don't misunderstand me.  We're probably going to die.  But let's make
it count, okay?" Even she was surprised at the glib tone she had just used.
 
	On the other end of the connection, a few hundred meters away,
Ayamaru was shocked as well.  A sailor senshi had just matter-of-factly told
him that they were going to die soon.  Strangely, he wasn't terribly afraid
of it either.  Somehow, knowing that a sailor senshi would be going with him
didn't make it seem as bad.  "Yes.  We'll do whatever you say." 
 
	"We?" 
 
	"There are five others here, sir.  One's badly wounded, but she says
she can still carry a laser."
 
	Sailor Procyon grinned grimly.  Yes, they were going to die, but at
least they'd take some people with them.  "Good.  Get one of you to move
around and scare up as many people as you can, we need a coordinated attack. 
Wait, hold a moment." She pulled her handlink out of nowhere.  If it hadn't
been for pocketspace the device would have most likely been smashed, along
with her left arm which dangled useless at her side.  Senshi weren't
indestructible.  She consulted a map of the area, with overlays for where
her forces and theirs should be.  She licked her lips, decided to be
pessimistic, and gave the enemy a few hundred extra meters of advance, which
should put them right . . . there.  "Okay, get your man up, and tell him
that we'll begin the counterattack at 15:30.  My watch says 15:25:30,
yours?"
 
	"Same thing." 
 
	"Good, because I'm coming out of this foxhole at 15:30, and I don't
want to be alone."
 
	"Yes sir!" 
 
	"Oh, and Ayamaru?" 
 
	"Yes?" 
 
	"Nice knowing you."  She closed the connection and began ticking
down the seconds.
 
*** 
 
	Earth headquarters was growing gloomier and gloomier. 
 
	"We've lost contact with Sailor Procyon.  Her last report said that
she was being overrun with allies . . . ." The talker fell silent, then
resumed.  "And . . . and that she wanted her parents to know that she loved
them.  Transmission ended at that point."
 
	Sailor Uranus bowed her head.  With both Jupiter and Saturn in the
field, she was occupying the center seat of HQ as the next successor to the
post of deputy commander in chief.  "Very well, Sailor Procyon is missing
and presumed dead until we can get a search party there.  Any other news of
resistance in that quarter?"
 
	"No, sir." 
 
	"Then those bastards have a clear road all the way to Kasuga."  She
gritted her teeth.
 
	"Not quite," said Sailor Neptune's image.  Her picture was on one of
the status screens; it had been decided that Uranus's successor shouldn't be
in Earth HQ as well, and therefore Neptune was on the moon.  Their personal
relationship had been deemed irrelevant in the face of the very real
possibility a lucky missile strike could kill them both.  "Sailor Saturn has
a fairly good line setting up just south of Kasuga.  She sounds fairly
confident that it can hold."
 
	"I hope so."  She looked up at the situation map.  Yellow shading
indicated territory held by the Allies; red showed where the lines were
still muddy.  Thus far in the south the yellow was just a thin line hugging
the coast, with a larger splotch of red.  Hokkaido was another story,
though.  The northern point of the island was all yellow and red, and the
red was steadily advancing south.  Things weren't much better to the east.
 
	Sailor Uranus gestured to the map.  Even if Neptune wasn't in the
same room, the cameras should pick it up.  "Sailor Jupiter's calling up
another division and trying to make a stand near Lake Kussaro.  It should
work, or so she says."
 
	"Not a bad spot for a defense.  She'll have the mountain range to
her back, at the least; lovely incentive for her troops to stand strong."
 
	Sailor Neptune's image nodded.  "Looks good.  Maybe we can wrap this
up before any other senshi die."
 
	"Yes.  Three is four too many." 
 
*** 

	Jennifer Sakachi lay awake in bed, staring up at the plain ceiling. 
In the pre-dawn light, the white-painted ceiling looked more like a dirty
gray, one that she could stare at for hours and in which she could lose
herself.
 
	It had only been a day since she'd arrived at Sailor Jupiter's field
headquarters in Rubeshibe, a medium-sized town nestled in a Hokkaido valley. 
The site had been chosen because of its position on two main roads that at
the moment linked both north and east fronts, making it easier for scouts to
come back and forth to make reports which were far too precious to risk
electronic interception.  She had spent most of yesterday taking tours of
the place and getting acclimated to the area.  Sailor Jupiter's headquarters
were in an inn down the street, a minute away if she ran in senshi form. 
She had asked about underground shelters and told that they were still under
construction.  The first excavation had apparently been hit with a stray
missile early on.  This was the second, and needless to say she had lost
quite a bit of faith in her safety.
 
	Now, however, she'd seen the laser defense ring that surrounded the
town.  It would take a saturation attack to take the place out, and
intelligence said that there were other, more inviting, targets at which the
Allies could point their missiles.
 
	Sailor Orion rolled over to look at the clock.  05:28.  She was due
to report to a briefing with Sailor Jupiter and the local command staff in
about an hour.  She should be getting out of bed soon, but she continued to
stare up at the ceiling.  Maybe if she looked at it long enough the entire
thing would go away, and she'd end up back in Crystal Tokyo safe and sound.
 
	A knock came at the door.  She sat up in her T-shirt and clicked on
the bedside lamp.  "Come in," she called, reaching for her glasses and
putting them on.
 
	"Sailor Orion?" asked the silhouette in the doorway.  The voice was 
male.  "You're needed at forward headquarters immediately." 
 
	Suddenly Jen was awake and alert.  "What is it?" 
 
	"I wasn't told, just to get you to HQ as soon as possible." 
 
	"Hrm . . . ."  She fished around in nowhere and pulled out her
henshin rod.  "Very well, I'll be right there.  Thank you." The man bowed,
turned, and left.  Jen looked at the now closed door for a moment, and then
said the magic words.
 
*** 
 
	"Reporting as ordered, Sailor Jupiter."  Sailor Orion was in Sailor
Jupiter's little cubbyhole of an office.  It was formerly the office of the
innkeeper, but Jupiter had taken it over.  The walls were covered with maps
and temporary status screens.  For her part, Sailor Jupiter sat behind the
desk, looking as if the weight of the entire world was on her.
 
	"It wasn't really an order," she said, rubbing her forehead, "but
that's not important.  Effective immediately you're my new adjutant."
 
	Sailor Orion nearly fell through the floor at that statement, but
she managed to stay nonchalant.  "Pardon?"
 
	"You're my adjutant.  Sailor Polaris was killed a couple hours ago
in a missile attack, along with most of the command staff."
 
	"Kami-sama . . . ." 
 
	"Our security precautions backfired," she said wearily.  "The
command staff was at our backup headquarters a few kilometers away, getting
ready to come here.  A missile leaked through the defenses, hit the bunker
right on the nose, and bam!  Three dozen people and a senshi dead, just like
that."
 
	Sailor Orion stood in shock.  Sailor Polaris was one of the most
respected new senshi there were.  She was practically the spokeswoman for
them, having been one of the very first back in 3002.  Now she was dead,
just like that.
 
	"And . . . and you want me to replace her?" 
 
	Sailor Jupiter threw her hands up in the air.  "What choice do I
have?  We've had to go to a new strategy; the more experienced senshi are
having to go out and command the army units.  Seems the normal commanders
are almost uniformly incompetent.  So, you're one of the least experienced
senshi, and yet you've got more experience than some.  Therefore, a
compromise.  You're my right hand senshi.  You'll move all around the battle
front, checking things out and reporting back to me on how things are going
on the lower levels.  If I ask for advice, you'll give it.  I may not take
it, but I'll ask it.  It's a thankless job, I'm afraid, but at this point
you don't have much of a choice."
 
	Sailor Orion drew her mouth into a slight tilt.  "I see.  What do I
do first?"
 
	Sailor Jupiter handed Orion a handlink.  "You read.  You've got to
know everything, and I do mean *everything*, about the senshi here, the
Royal Army units, enemy units, and anything else that might be included. 
You'll also be responsible for reports to Crystal Tokyo.  Make sure they're
detailed, or else HQ will bitch about it.  Believe me, I've been there, I've
done the bitching before.  Got it?"
 
	"I think so."  Kami-sama, there's no way I can pull this off. 
 
	"Hopefully it won't be too hard, though.  Looking at the latest
estimates, we've got up to sixty percent containment in some areas.  We're
retreating in some places, but overall we're standing strong.  The news from
the south is even better.  They may be completely expelled from Kyushu
within a couple of days."
 
	"And if we can get them in a position like that, it makes Serenity's
job a lot easier at the negotiation table.  Right." Maybe we can win this
thing within the week.  That would be so much better, to end without any
more senshi dead . . . .
 
	An aide popped her head in the door.  She was now on the command
staff, for better or for worse, even if the girl was only a replacement for
the one who had just died hours before.  War was cruel, and there was no
time for grief, not yet.  "Sirs, we've got word of an Allied move.  Ten
kilometer stretch of front, with missile support."
 
	Sailor Orion looked over at Jupiter.  "Perhaps they're getting
desperate?"
 
	"Or maybe they smell blood," replied Sailor Jupiter gloomily. 
Sailor Orion wondered what kind of pressure she was under.  "Call up the
eighth reserve division and give orders to disperse them as necessary along
the front."
 
	The aide paused, then nodded.  "Yes sir," she said, putting on her 
headset and jogging out the door.  The redheaded senshi looked at the 
handlink, punching buttons furiously. "But if the eighth is called up-" 
 
	"We'll have only one division left in reserve, I know.  But we need
to break their backs, and now.  This reserve division could do it."
 
	"You're sure?" 
 
	"Well, not really."  She got up and looked out the window, where the
sun was just peeping out over the hills.  "I have a hunch, and I find that
my hunches turn out to be right more often than not.  We'll send the
preliminaries to Earth HQ and let them think things through.  Here," she
said, giving Sailor Orion another handlink, "start taking care of the
details.  Priority one, highest possible encryption.  I want it there by
09:00, and put in any input you feel is necessary, okay?"
 
	It was a dismissal.  Orion bowed with her handlinks and left the
room, wandering down to the "radio shack." it was the communications center
of the forward command center, where a dozen communications officers gave
orders in a land without the complex AIs of Earth HQ, using mainly radio
communications.  "Okay guys," she said to them, all uniformly young and
harried, "we've got a bit more work to do."
 
*** 
 
	"Sir?" 
 
	"Yes?" 
 
	"Section Twelve says they're ready to commence with stage two." 
 
	"Already?  Excellent."  The admiral nodded.  "Well then, we've got
council approval, so commence immediately."
 
	"Yes sir." 
 
========================= 
 
Begun: 09:16 17 May 1998 
Finished: 01:24 25 May 1998 
Final draft: 06:57 10 June 1998
Final edit: 01:28 23 February 2001
 
================================== 
Episode #308: The Serenity Defense 
================================== 
 
 
Crystal Tokyo 
31 March 3035 

	Sailor America detransformed in the silence of the empty apartment,
back after a long day's work.  "Midnight.  Wonderful." She flopped down on
the bed, too tired to undress.  Today's press conference had been
particularly grueling; the press wanted absolutely everything she had about
the two dead senshi.  That hadn't been fun at all, convincing them that four
dead in a week was simply a fluke, and that the planet senshi were overall
very optimistic about a speedy end to the conflict.  Then had come the
sifting through mounds of reports and documents.  Somehow she'd been
assigned the task of deciding what was classified and what was not, a job
that involved a lot of calls to other departments in the Palace.
 
	She sighed, then looked at the clock again.  "Midnight, but I bet
she's still up." She slapped a well-worn button on the bedside control
panel.
 
	"Yeah?" came the tired voice. 
 
	"Hi, Jen," said Eileen.  "How are you?" 
 
	"Oh, Eileen!"  Eileen heard the sound of a handlink clattering to
the ground.  "I'm okay, a bit tired I guess.  You?"
 
	"Exhausted." 
 
	"Yeah.  I guess we all are."  She paused on the other end of the
line.  "I saw your press conference today.  You did a good job."
 
	"Thanks," replied the brunette with a smile.  She pulled off her
tube top and made her way to the bathroom.  The AI would keep track of
making sure her voice carried as she prepared for a nice long bath.  "It's
like riding a bicycle, I guess: you never forget."
 
	"Yes.  And unlike being Jupiter's closest assistant." 
 
	Eileen didn't ask if Jen was holding up okay.  "Did you see Sailor
Polaris before . . . ."
 
	"Not really.  I ran into her about an hour after arrival, but we
were in so much of a hurry that I doubt we even got to say hello." She
blinked; the tears simply wouldn't come.  Despite all the words about how
the sailor senshi were a tight-knit family, she had to admit she'd barely
known her.  It was just another name, a bit more important than most.
 
	The brunette started the water going in the tub, with a quick check
to make sure it was at the proper temperature.  "Hm.  You probably already
know, but her remains are on their way here.  She's to be given a state
funeral tomorrow.  I'm on the staff that's writing the speech."
 
	"Don't overwork yourself, Eileen.  I'm the only one who's allowed to
do that."

	Eileen could almost hear her lover frown.  She chuckled, taking off
one shoe and then the other, then her socks.  She then performed the age-old
ritual of sticking a toe in the water to check if it was too hot. 
Satisfied, she removed her panties and got in.  Eileen simply lay for a
moment, letting the water take away the accumulated aches and pains of the
day.  "I see how it is, then," she replied, ducking her head under the water
for a couple seconds, then popping back up.  "Sailor Orion's going to save
the day?"
 
	"Bah," replied Jen, "Sailor Orion's going to push papers around,
that's what she's going to do.  The real fighting is up to senshi like
Sailor Alphard."
 
	"Sailor Alphard?" 
 
	"She's second tactical commander.  She'll essentially be calling the
shots in the field.  Sailor Jupiter seems to like her style, I suppose we'll
be okay."
 
	"Good.  From what I hear, if we can wrap this up within a week the
AC would be far more agreeable to a settlement."
 
	"That's good to know."  Eileen idly made swirls in the water with
her finger, listening to the silence.  "Have you spoken to your family
lately?" asked Jen.
 
	"No," said Eileen lightly, "all non-diplomatic communications with
America have been cut off by Sailor Uranus's orders.  Even if I could call,
the AC probably isn't accepting any communications."
 
	"So . . . ." 
 
	"I haven't heard from my family in days.  I assume they're all
right: Mom's ineligible for the draft, Dad's job should keep him in
Pennsylvania, but my brothers . . . ." She didn't finish.  She knew that it
was very likely her brother was already in Japan, carrying a standard-issue
laser rifle prone to overheat, lying in a foxhole, waiting for a senshi to
enter his sights.  Or he might already be dead. 
 
	"They'll be okay," reassured Jen.  "I can't imagine a Pearcy letting
something silly like a war keep them down!"
 
	"Yep," replied Eileen.  'Filled with such bravado, we are,' she
thought.  'Neither of us willing to show anyone how afraid we truly are, not
even each other.  All because we don't want the other to feel that we're too
much of a burden.' She didn't know what to make of that and sank a bit lower
in the water, until only her face was exposed to air.  She lay for a moment,
closed her eyes, and went under.  It was so much nicer here . . . she popped
up.  "Well, I suppose you want to get some sleep now?"
 
	Jen laughed hollowly.  "Yes, that sounds great at this point.  I'd
like it better if I were there with you, though."
 
	"You will," Eileen reassured her quietly.  "Talk to you tomorrow,
okay?  Bye bye."
 
	"Bye."  The connection clicked, and then there was silence. 
 
*** 
 
	Eileen got out of bed bright and early the next morning.  The sun
was just rising, but that meant nothing.  It was April Fool's, as well, but
didn't mean anything either.  Today was time to try something different.

	After showering, eating a hurried breakfast, and changing into her
senshi form, she went down to headquarters instead of her office.  She had a
suspicion that the reports she was receiving were filtered somehow.  A
battle here didn't quite jibe with a casualty there, little things like
that.  She had no idea who could possibly be doing it; after all, she was
supposed to be the one in charge of things like that.
 
	In any case, she occasionally felt guilty to be in her office while
the rest of the senshi patrolled the streets or braved the battlefield.  If
nothing else, she would feel more adequate when she was in the nerve center
of the military.  She stepped through the door that led to the crow's nest. 
She noted immediately that the usual senshi guard had been replaced by two
civilians.  Apparently they were shorter on senshi than she'd been told.
 
	"Sailor America arriving," said the talker, who had a spare moment
to perform her duty and announce when a senshi entered the nest.
 
	The head senshi turned her head.  "Sailor America?" asked Uranus. 
"What brings you here?"
 
	Sailor America ignored the cold tone in her elder's voice.  She
didn't want to bother with Uranus's anti-American attitude today, even if
she knew that it was for the most part justified.  "Thought that I could
manage the information better from down here, Sailor Uranus.  If you have no
objections?"
 
	"None." 
 
	"Very well, thank you."  Sailor America bowed perfunctorily and went
over to an empty chair.  "Any earth-shaking developments overnight?"
 
	"No," said Sailor Uranus, missing America's attempt at humor. 
"Things have brightened up a bit, actually.  Sailor Saturn reports that the
enemy is essentially contained in the south.  She says that with a bit of
time and manpower she can have Kyushu cleared in a matter of days."
 
	"Good news," replied America, slipping on a headset and punching up
a notetaking program.  "That should bring up the public's spirits.  The
latest polls say-"
 
	"Yes, yes, I know you conduct those polls on a near-hourly basis,
but there's no need to waste *my* time with them, okay?"
 
	"Right, sorry I bothered you, *sir*."  Finishing the sentence in as
strong a tone as she dared use, she whirled around and began fiddling with
her console.  Finding an empty window, she began to fill it with text.

	She was absolutely livid.  How *dare* she be brushed off like that? 
True, she wasn't a planet senshi.  She wasn't one of the class of 3002.  She
was willing to admit that in the grand scheme of things she was pretty low
on the totem pole, and the only reason she even had the status she had now
was because her lover had been lucky time after time . . . or so she felt at
times.  Even with all that, dammit, couldn't Sailor Uranus just pretend to
be interested in Sailor America's thoughts?
 
	"I could.  But it would be a waste of time.  Whether or not your ego
is bruised is none of my concern."
 
	America sat up very straight and slowly turned to face Uranus.  "Wh-
what?" she asked, shocked enough to use English.
 
	"Well, it's true.  I'm running headquarters, I don't have time to
make sure you're happy about matters."
 
	She switched back to Japanese.  "But how did you-" 
 
	Sailor Uranus turned and chanced a smile.  "You're not the first
secretary of public relations to come down here and get their feelings hurt. 
I've been at this for awhile, you know."
 
	"Uh-huh."  

	Uranus turned around again to regard the status board.  "Hm.  Do we
have any signs of-"
 
	"Air warning red, incoming missiles."  By now the talker's voice was
cool and calm; the young woman had learned to hide her fear.  "Estimate
forty missiles bearing on Crystal Tokyo, range twenty kilometers, closing
fast.  ETA seventy seconds."
 
	Uranus sighed.  "Here we go again." 
 
	"Civil defense being notified, as well as general population. 
Missile defense radar online and tracking.  Lasers ready, intercept in
thirty seconds, revised impact time forty-three seconds."
 
	Sailor America looked up from her notes and watched things unfold on
the status screens like a high-tech video game.  Nearly four dozen missiles
were making their way to Crystal Tokyo in what was fast becoming a daily
occurrence.  The Allies would toss a volley of missiles at the city, knowing
that there was almost no chance that they would inflict any damage . . . any
physical damage, that was.
 
	The bright yellow lines on the map that showed the tracks of the
missiles entered the magic circle of the laser firing range and turned red. 
"Lasers firing." Now they were disappearing.
 
	"Ninety-seven point five percent kill rate.  One remaining missile,
range two kilometers-"
 
	"WHAT?"  Sailor Uranus stared at the red status clock in disbelief
as it placidly continued its way down to 00:00.
 
	"Close range anti-air guns firing." 
 
*** 
 
	Outside Earth HQ and the Palace, those who hadn't heeded the
warnings to go inside to the shelters were being treated to an impromptu
fireworks show.  To the southwest, they could see the smoke trails of
incoming missiles slowly grew closer, and then punctuated with bright
fireballs.  However, one of the trails carried on closer than the others. 
It was pure chance; it happened to be lost in the shuffle as the AIs planned
which laser would shoot which missile.  Blissfully unaware of the overtaxed
computers, the missile continued on its way.
 
	A mere eight kilometers from the Crystal Palace, just inside the
city limits, and about five hundred meters above the ground, the missile met
its end, thanks to an antiaircraft gun operated by another computer.  The
explosion filled the sky, the thunder of impact shaking people and buildings
and scattering smoke and debris everywhere.  Some of it fell on the
neighborhood below.
 
*** 
 
	"Final missile destroyed, sir."  The talker's hands trembled with
fright, and her voice was shaky, but she tried her best to look bored with
the entire situation.  She tried not to think about how close that missile
had come to striking the Palace.  She also tried not to think about what she
had done in her pants.
 
	"Kami-sama," said Uranus.  She leaned against a railing for support. 
"That was close." Then she was all business.  "Any injuries?"
 
	"No reports yet, sir.  We've . . . sir, Her Majesty would like to
speak with you."
 
	Sailor Uranus whispered an oath.  "Right, put her on." 
 
	A map of Shikoku was replaced with the image of Serenity.  She
looked serene as always, but there was a hint of fear in her eyes.  "Sailor
Uranus, what just happened?  Am I correct in assuming that the latest attack
was nearly successful?"
 
	Uranus bowed.  "Your Majesty, that would be correct.  The missile
came within a few kilometers of hitting the Palace.  It was, however, taken
out with our secondary defenses, and-"
 
	"And because of our secondary defenses, a portion of Crystal Tokyo
is burning."
 
	"Huh?"  Uranus looked at the talker, a shade of worry growing on her
face.
 
	"No word of . . . wait, just getting something now.  Fire and rescue
crews are reporting to the thirty-third district, still nothing on
injuries!"
 
	Sailor Uranus ran a hand through her short, dusty-blonde hair, and
looked up at her sovereign in an expression that was as close to sheepish as
she ever got.  "Serenity-sama, I-"
 

	"There will be a meeting of all planet senshi at three in the
afternoon, today.  Further discussion of this can wait until then.  Until
then, you are to supervise the rescue efforts.  I do not wish for a single
person to die from this."
 
	Sailor Uranus bowed her head.  It was bloody hard to argue with
Serenity at times like this.  "Yes."
 
	"Oh, and Sailor America?"  The brunette stood and bowed.  "You have
all the information in this matter.  I give you full authority to handle the
telling of this incident in any way you see fit, so long as it does not
imperil the security of the city."
 
	Sailor America gulped, and this time she absolutely knew Uranus was
sending daggers her way.  "Your Majesty . . . I'm . . . this is too much,
really.  I mean, I'm Sailor *America*, and I really don't think the public-"
 
	"I will be brief, Sailor America, as I do not have time to waste. 
You are the first and only sailor senshi from the American continent.  As
such, you are most probably the strongest, most visible link between
ourselves and the American Confederation, which to all signs seems to be the
leader of this affair.  You are a symbol we can coexist.  I would like
no-one better to be in your position than you.  You have my complete
confidence.  Is that clear?"
 
	Sailor America's mouth opened and closed a couple times, but nothing
came out.
 
	"I'd take that as a yes, Serenity-sama," said Uranus.  "15:00, then? 
Okay."
 
	"Until then."  The connection closed. 
 
	Finally, America found her voice.  "Did she just say what I think
she said?"
 
	"Yes.  And you're not going to be there." 
 
*** 
 
	"Outstanding!" 
 
	"Marvelous!" 
 
	"Wonderful!" 
 
	The leaders of the American Confederation, the Arab Union, and the
European Union were uniformly jubilant.  "Clearly," said President Ronowski,
"our strategy is paying off.  My people say we can expect total capitulation
in a matter of days, and that's even before adding Heartbreaker into the
equation!" He leaned over the table at Prathachulthorn.  "I don't think
Titan's services will be needed, Sean."
 
	"Perhaps we're being a bit premature about this," said Rostov.  His
people had taken fearful losses in the early going, and he didn't want their
deaths to be in vain.  "I think we should wait until we're within sight of a
conclusion before we start the self congratulation, don't you?"
 
	"We *are* within sight of a conclusion, though!" 
 
	"That's not how Serenity is talking."  The Russian rubbed his nose. 
"I spoke to her last night, and she showed no signs of backing down.  Either
she's got a hell of a poker face, or she's prepared to take this as far as
necessary."
 
	"The former," murmured China.  "We all know she's got almost
superhuman control of her emotions.  But she *is* human, remember.  Isn't
that what all this is about?"
 
	"To-" 
 
	"Yes, yes, to remove Serenity from power, abolish the throne, make
the world a level playing field, you've said it a million times, Ronowski! 
But she's still human, and who's to say that pressuring her at this point
would either break her resolve or strengthen it beyond imagining?"
 
	"It hardly matters," said Mina Cabot, waving her arm expansively. 
"If we break her, it'll be over that much faster, and if we don't . . . we
have other measures now, don't we?"
 
	"I think," said Prathachulthorn, "that we'll have to wait a bit for
that verdict.  In the meantime, David, how much longer are we going to have
to wait with Heartbreaker?"
 
	"A day."  That brought the table around to full attention.  Ronowski
smiled.  "We've managed to turn out the required number of units, and mass
production is proceeding quite nicely.  They should arrive at the front
tomorrow, and as the units are similar to what the troops are already used
to, it should be a very simple matter for them to become acclimated to them. 
And then . . . then, Serenity learns just how serious we are."
 
*** 
 
	"Your Majesty, it's time we got serious." 
 
	Sailor Mars looked terribly tense from her position on the Moon,
alone on her screen.  Also not present were Sailor Saturn, still on Kyushu,
Sailor Jupiter, still on Hokkaido, and Sailor Pluto, who didn't have a
screen at all; she was absent, as she had been for nearly a year.  Around
the table were the other planet senshi, Serenity, and Endymion.
 
	"Look, we all saw what nearly happened this morning.  A bite almost
got taken out of the city, and there was very nearly nothing we could have
done about it.  Next time we may not be so lucky."
 
	Sailor Mercury and Saturn looked like they wanted to protest, but
they knew they couldn't.  "I have to agree," said Sailor Venus.  "Frankly, I
don't care if they kill us senshi.  It's our job, I can live with that."
Sailor Mercury groaned and buried her face in her hands; after over a
thousand years, you'd think she'd learn.  "But they're endangering
noncombatants now.  We've got to do something."
 
	"It must be passive," reminded Serenity. 
 
	"Yes, yes," said Sailor Jupiter.  "But at the same time, what do I
tell the men and women who are coming back to their bunks every night minus
a teammate?  That we're being passive, and that's why their bunkmate is dead
now?  With all due respect, I have to say that we've got to end this far
quicker than we are now!"
 
	"Agreed," said Sailor Saturn.  "We've got almost insane success
rates down here, but morale is still low.  We aren't mentally prepared for a
long war; our troops aren't, at least, and maybe not the senshi."
 
	"Therefore, a proposal," said Sailor Uranus.  "We've got a good
portion of our ships already in the system, and all the armaments that
implies.  If we were to fire a few shots at selected targets-"
 
	"We've been through this before," said Sailor Mercury sharply.  "We
can't do that without endangering civilian lives!"
 
	"Hm?" asked Serenity, who had been content to watch her closest
friends discuss matters by themselves.  "How do you mean?"
 
	"Your Majesty," said Sailor Mercury, "the Allies have devised a
rather clever system.  For the most part, their military bases are all very
close to, or even *in* major population centers.  In fact, the American
command center may well be under Vancouver, though we haven't confirmed
that.  That's another sign that they've had this planned for awhile, or at
least recognized the fundamental rules of space warfare."

 	"Space warfare?"  Sailor Neptune arched an eyebrow.  "Didn't know it
existed."
 
	"It didn't," said Sailor Mercury wryly.  "Not until now, that is. 
In any case, space attacks are out of the question.  Our accuracy isn't good
enough to guarantee the safety of bystanders if we fire, and even then do we
want to risk it?" Do we destroy Vancouver to kill a single command center?
 
	Sailor Jupiter bowed her head.  "I realize that, but still . . .
what else is there?"
 
	"Well . . . ," trailed off Mercury, a bit uncertain, "there are a
few field equations we've been working through . . . ."
 
	"Spill it." 
 
	"She means," said Serenity, "that it may be possible for me, with
the help of the ginzuishou, to form a protective barrier around Crystal
Tokyo.  It would be similar to the field that you, Mercury, Mars, and Venus
created during the Black Moon war, but on a far larger scale."
 
	"And the catch?" asked Sailor Mars, knowing that where the
ginzuishou was involved, the catch often involved Serenity dying.
 
	"The catch," said Sailor Mercury, "is that it will be very sapping
from an energy standpoint.  She won't be able to do a whole lot other than
maintain the field."

	"Define 'a whole lot.'"

	"She'll be virtually immobile, and concentrating on other things
will be difficult at best."
 
	Sailor Mars looked at Serenity warily.  "You're going to go through
with this, aren't you."
 
	"Yes." 
 
	"And we can't stop you?" 
 
	"You can try, but it seems clear cut to me.  It would greatly
benefit the people of Crystal Tokyo, and I can see no disadvantages to it. 
I will do it."
 
*** 
 
	In a forest encampment in Hokkaido far from the front, a supply 
truck pulled up to the ring of tents. 
 
	"Where's your CO?" asked the supply officer, popping out of the
truck and going to the back.  "We've got some new armaments for you, men!"
 
	The commanding officer of the multinational group, a Chinese
lieutenant, stumbled out of his tent still in pajamas.  "What is it?"
 
	In the moonlight, the supply officer grinned.  "It's Serenity's
worst nightmare!"

=========================== 
Begun: 08:44 25 May 1998 
Finished: 00:04 31 May 1998 
Final draft: 08:28 3 July 1998
Final edit: 13:14 23 February 2001
 

================================================= 
Episode #309: What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted? 
================================================= 
 
Crystal Tokyo
3 April 3035

	"Missile attack incoming," said the talker, now bored with it all.  It 
was the third attack that morning. 
 
	"Right, you know the routine."  Sailor Neptune took a sip of coffee. 
 
	"Yes sir," said the talker.  "Arm anti-missile laser systems. 
Sector twelve reports readiness.  Missiles will intercept SDF-1 in twenty
seconds, mark."
 
	SDF-1.  Serenity Defense Field One, the name that had been hastily
attached to the umbrella of defense Serenity provided.  It had been up
continously for a week, and in that week the number of attacks on the city
had actually tripled.  Serenity had had no chance to stand down, fearful
that as soon as she let down her guard, the final attack would come.  It was
paranoia, she knew that as well as anyone, but it was justified paranoia. 
However, she insisted that she was fine, even over the constant fuss Mercury
and her doctors made over Serenity.  The Neo-Queen was urging Mercury to put
more effort into the troops in the field.  As she said again and again, it
was simply a matter of time before the war was over, and she wanted as few
casulties as possible.
 
	"Very well," said Sailor Neptune, raising her head from her
introspection.  She watched the missile tracks slowly reach the white circle
that marked the extent of the SDF.
 
	"Intercept in five, four, three, two, one, mark."  The tracks
terminated as they met the circle.  "All targets destroyed."
 
	"Another typical day."  She yawned.  Despite the carnage that had
been prevelant so far, it was simply a matter of time until the enemy was
expelled from Japan.  Then, Serenity and her diplomatic team could sue for
peace on their own terms.  Simply a matter of time. 
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Aurigae crept through the forest, leading her two dozen men
and women.  "Okay people, we've got three Allies over that ridge," she said,
pointing at the slight rise that was barely visible in the early morning
fog.  "You two, follow me," she beckoned.  Just a simple clean-up mission.
 
	The trio crept over the underbrush, the two men's boots crunching
through the dead branches and leaves.  Sailor Aurigae's high heels curiously
made no noise at all.  Her fingers twitched; the last time she'd gone out
like this, three under her command hadn't come back.
 
	Behind the ridge, a head popped up, shouted, and then popped back
down.  Aurigae gestured for them to get down.  Then she stood.  "Attention
Allied forces!  This is Sailor Aurigae, and in the name of Neo-Queen
Serenity, I order you to surrender!  Throw down your weapons and come
forward with your hands behind your head.  You have ten seconds!"
 
	Silence, except for the twitter of a bird overhead.  Aurigae peered
at the ridge and saw a muzzle peep out.
 
	"GUN!" she shouted.  She was too late. 
 
	It was the most painful experience she had ever experienced.  It
wasn't like a hard punch in the chest; she'd had those before, and this was
worse.  It wasn't like being stabbed; she'd had those before as well, and
she knew that a stab was above her pain threshold.  Logically it should have
put her into shock, but it didn't.  For the single long second that it
lasted, she felt like her heart was being torn out, and in a way, it was. 
 
	The pain stopped, and then there was nothing.  She could see, but
nothing registered.  She could hear, but it was gibberish.  She could smell
and touch and taste, but something was missing.  She slumped forward, unable
to will herself to do anything else.
 
	Behind her, the two young men who had accompanied her were frozen in
horror.  Just a bare meter from where Sailor Aurigae had once stood, there
was a floating, shimmering, multi-pointed crystal.  "What the hell is that?"
asked one of the men.
 
	Behind the ridge, a second Allied French troop raised a pistol.  It
was fundamentally the same design as those used a thousand years ago, and as
it had just one purpose, that design was adequate.  He pulled the trigger, a
bullet flew out, and Aurigae's heart crystal was shattered into pieces.  The
senshi died instantly.
 
	"Kami-sama!"  Aurigae's companions scrambled to recover her body. 
The older of the two, barely twenty-two, nearly screamed into his
communicator.  "HELP!  Sailor Aurigae's dead, and we're all al-"
 
	"Don't panic!" screamed his companion.  They heard the pistol fire
again and flung themselves on the ground.  "That was stupid of us, being
exposed like that!  C'mon, we've got to get out of here!"
 
	Dodging fire, the duo made their way around the trees and back to
the rest of the platoon.  They looked shocked as they saw their leader lying
motionless on the ground where she'd been placed.  Their pillar of strength,
gone.
 
	"Um . . . what do we do now?" 
 
*** 
 
	Earth headquarters was bedlam.  Everywhere the reports were the
same: senshi dead or dying, units in disarray, retreats becoming the rule
rather than the exception.  Sailor Uranus was finding it harder and harder
to keep track of things, even with a talker to sort things out for her.
 
	"Confirmed report, Sailor Aurigae is dead.  Her body's been
recovered, along with about a dozen others.  Sailor Vindemiatrix is also
confirmed dead by two eyewitnesses.  Body can't be recovered, the entire
town she was defending is now behind enemy lines . . . ."
 
	Sailor Uranus let the droning voice of the talker blend into the
background as she stepped to the rim of the crow's nest.  The situation
screens were almost uniformly bleak: the simple, orderly lines of just a day
ago were dissolving into a mishmash of colors.  The only constant was the
battle line was moving south.  Uranus could stand it no longer.  "Get me
Sailor Jupiter."
 
	"One moment . . . she's on, sir."   A map of the Sapporo area was
replaced with the face of Sailor Jupiter, looking old for the first time in
her life.
 
	"Hello, Uranus.  How are you?" 
 
	"What the hell's going on up there, Jupiter?" 
 
	"They're taking heart crystals." 
 
	If there was a single thing that could have frozen Uranus's insides
and forced them to congeal into an icy ball in her gut, that was it.  "What
did you say?"
 
	"Heart crystals, dammit!  The ones that were being taken from people
back when we first met you!  They're doing it again!"
 
	'Keep your composure,' she thought silently.  "Calm down," Uranus
added aloud.  She bowed her head, and when she raised it her eyes were
filled with something akin to fear.  "We can handle this, right?  We did it
before."
 
	"This is different," said Sailor Jupiter, running a hand through her
hair.  "The only targets they're interested in are senshi, and they aren't
interested in keeping the things, just destroying them.  We've lost a dozen
senshi in a day, Uranus, we can't keep up those kinds of numbers and have
any sort of force left!"
 
	"And what the hell am I supposed to do about it?  Dammit, YOU'RE
deputy commander in chief, you give ME the orders!  If by chance you feel
you can't do that anymore, step down and let someone ELSE try!" She fell
silent, realizing that the entire room had already done so.  For a moment it
was very quiet.  Uranus's eyebrow twitched.  "Right, get back to work."
Everyone went back to their activities.  "Put me on privately to Jupiter,"
she said to the talker, slipping on a headset.
 
	"Yes sir, taken care of." 
 
	"Sailor Jupiter," said Uranus into her microphone, "you have to
understand our position.  Here in Crystal Tokyo we *need* our senshi for
crowd control and civil defense, and depending on how Sailor America handles
the press with this one we may need them more than ever.  We simply can't
spare reinforcements."
 
	"We're dying.  Don't you see that we're dying?  I can't make it an
order I'm almost certain I'd be overridden, but we need help up here."

	The senshi were perhaps the most tightly knit unit in history.  Take
the comraderie of the US Marines in their prime, throw in a bit of the Girl
Scouts, and you had a small inkling of how much it hurt to lose one of their
own.  Not that they didn't care about the others, but in the cold hardness
of the long run, senshi were harder to come by.  In that light, losing a
senshi hurt all the more, in that many more ways.
 
	"I'm sorry, but there's no help anywhere in the Crystal Millenium. 
We've got to face facts.  We prided ourselves on magic . . . and now the
Allies have turned the tables.  Now it's even."
 
*** 
 
	"So, David.  How goes it with Heartbreaker?  Has our fantastic
expense panned out?"
 
	"Better than we could ever have hoped," said President Ronowski to
his Southeast Asian counterpart.  "I assure you, the price will be well
worth it."
 
	"I hope so," said Prathachulthorn sharply.  "My people are becoming
disgruntled with food rationing, and even more upset about inflation.  I've
even got people here talking impeachment!" Clearly he was feeling the heat
of being the only one there who had been democratically elected.
 
	"This latest news should make them happier, then."  Romowski's mood
was a bit deflated now.  He'd nearly run his confederation into the ground
to make Heartbreaker work, it and the other secrets that had been found
years ago.
 
*** 
 
	When the discovery was made, it seemed too good to be true in more
ways than one.  An oceanographic expedition inspecting several deep-sea
Pacific trenches had found a ship.  Not just any ship, but a starship, and
not just any starship, but a Crystal Tokyo starship, and not just any
Crystal Tokyo starship, but a Crystal Tokyo starship that had not been
built.
 
	The ship turned out to be Her Majesty's Ship Ursa Major,
registration number D-334, formerly commanded by Sailor Pollux, or rather to
be commanded by Sailor Pollux.  The nameplate said that it had been launched
in 3010, which came as quite a shock to the explorers.  It was found in
2956, and it was only a series of tricks with time had allowed it to be
there.
 
	The expedition had acted swiftly under the flag of the then North
American Confederation.  Under ruthless security, the wreck was recovered
and brought to Vancouver, then to the base in the Rockies.  There, the
accumulated grime and detrius of centuries had been carefully stipped off. 
A surprising amount of technology had survived.  While the weapons systems
had been largely destroyed, the computers were largely intact, and a bit of
work made their memories accessible to the salvagers.  This included an
impressive wealth of information on military history, the specialty of the
ship's captain, Sailor Pollux.
 
	It was that data which turned out to be crucial.  It had detailed
accounts of the Black Moon invasion, accounts that were ignored by the
higher-ups until the invasion actually came about in 3001.  After that,
closer attention was paid to certain types of weapons that had been
virtually forgotten even by the planet senshi.  A type of weapon that was
called a Heart Buster.
 
	It had taken decades to perfect a model that worked, during which
the entire operation had had to have been concealed under the most secrecy
ever.  The expense . . . well, at this point it was no longer simple
ideology the American Confederation was fighting for.  Now it was fighting
for money.  Without Crystal Tokyo reparations, the Americas faced a long,
cold, hard winter.  A coup d'etat would be a best case scenario.
 
*** 
 
	Now Ronowski watched all the sacrifices pay off.  It was immensely
gratifying, even if it did mean the deaths of all those senshi.  He didn't
consider himself cold-hearted at all.  He was merely a politician, doing the
best he could for his constituency, or so he said.  "Look, I'm telling you. 
The public wants to see dead senshi-"
 
	"-after we told them that they wanted to see dead senshi-" 
 
	"-and," continued Ronowski, unpertrubed by SEAA's interruption,
"after we give them their dead senshi they'll be all for the war.  Nothing
brightens spirits like a winning team.  We simply have to provide them with
one."
 
	"Tell me, just how many people are dying on our winning team, eh? 
My people are making depopulation estimates that are simply frightening, and
this is with us *winning*?" He didn't bother explaining just how *wrong* it
seemed, fundamentally.  He felt that they were simply tampering where they
had no business.
 
	"Losses would be high, we knew that," countered Ronowski.  "Every
man and woman at this table saw the projections, saw the scenarios, had the
opportunity to back out.  We're in this together now.  America delivered on
Heartbreaker, now the rest of you have to pitch in."
 
	"Speaking of America, how is your continent's senshi doing?"
Fayit's voice dripped sarcasm.  "Doesn't it bother you just a bit to have
her on the other side?"
 
	"Pearcy?  We never should have let her leave the country," grumbled
Ronowski.  "But I wasn't about to go on my hands and knees begging her to
come back, either.  If she wants monarchy, she can have it for as long as
Serenity reigns.  And that, thankfully, won't be long."
 
	"Ever the optimist?" 
 
	"Ever." 
 
*** 
 
	"I must, however, repeat that Neo-Queen Serenity and the other
senshi remain optimistic about the war effort." Sailor America was visibly
sweating, but she tried to keep her eyes calm.  She was successful for the
most part. "Despite the latest developments, there is every reason to
believe that victory is secured." She forced herself to smile.  "In fact,
there is every reason to believe that peace negotiations will come to a
conclusion shortly." 'Mainly because *they're* winning,' she thought.  

	The Heart Busters had only been on the line for two days, two
absolutely terrifying days for the senshi.  Twenty-eight of the over two
hundred senshi had died.  That was an inconcievable number for Sailor
America to grasp, and she knew it must be the same for her comrades.
 
	They all died the same way.  First their heart crystals were shot
from their chests, and then a simple pistol shot shattered it.  There was no
coming back from a broken heart crystal, no medical miracles Sailor Mercury
could pull out of the bag, nothing.  It wasn't even certain that the
ginzuishou could revive the victims, not that Serenity would be allowed to
try.  In the long run, who knew if Serenity would try it?  What kind of life
could the victims hope to lead?  More importantly, what life could the
already-weakened Army lead without senshi support?
 
	Sailor America faltered for a moment, then continued with her set
speech.  "Thus, you can see that this is only temporary.  Now, any
questions?  Ah, you there in the blue hat?"
 
	"Yes," said the rather short Torajiro Kobi, "just how many senshi 
are reported dead?" 
 
	"I can't divulge that information, sorry.  Not until the families
are notified and proper arrangements are made for burial.  Next?"
 
	"Sailor America," said the young female reporter Yukari Yamawaki, "I
have here a report from a prominent North American journal.  It relates the
stories of several Crystal Tokyo POWs, and says that our supply situation is
looking very bad.  One is quoted as saying, 'we have a week left at best.'
What do you make of these reports?"
 
	"I'm sorry," replied Sailor America, "but I'm afraid that's a matter
of national securty.  I can't comment on-"
 
	"Liar!"  All heads in the crowd turned to the back.  Yukio Oe, a
camera technician from the city's most popular television station, was a
twenty-two-year-old man who was under enormous pressure to join the army. 
Before leaving for work, his parents had told him in no uncertain terms that
if he didn't sign up for the manpower-hungry military, he didn't need to
bother coming back home.  Now, he'd decided that he had nothing to lose. 
"Liar!" he repeated, stepping away from his camera.  "Government-fed lies!"
 
	Sailor America blinked, and then remembered the first rule of
dealing with a heckler: don't give them the attention they crave.  "-cannot
comment on such a matter," she concluded.  "I'm sure you-"
 
	"Why don't you tell us the truth!?  Afraid we can't handle it
somehow?"
 
	"-you can understand that," finished America.  "Next question,
please?  Ah, Rimiko?"
 
	"Sailor America, is there any truth to the-" 
 
	"We must surrender!"  Yukio's eyes were blazing with defiance now. 
"By the kami, we've got to surrender before it's too late, don't you see? 
If the senshi are dying, and our friends and family in the army are dying in
even larger numbers, how can we *hope* to win?"
 
	America looked at Yukio sadly, and then nodded to the two guards by
the rear exit.  She hated herself for what she was doing now, but at the
same time she could see no alternatives. 'He's being disruptive,' she told
herself.  'If he stays he only causes the unease and panic I'm trying to
prevent.  I *must* remove him!' But a small part of her said that she was
removing a bit of freedom at the same time.
 
	The guards were dragging him out by the arms now.  Sensing that now
was his chance, he shouted all the louder.  "Can't you see?" he cried,
staring right at a camera.  "They don't tolerate dissent!  They don't
tolerate free speech!  They don't tolerate REASON!  THEY'VE GOT TO BE STO-"
 
	The doors slammed on him, and all was quiet except for the tapping
of fingers on handlinks.  At the head of the room, Sailor America could only
sigh.  The damage had been done, and undoubtedly Yukio's face would be all
over the news that afternoon and night.  She got the idea that she wouldn't
be getting much sleep.  "Sorry, Rimiko.  I didn't catch the tail end of your
question."
 
	"Of course.  As I was saying, is there any truth to the rumor that
we are close to signing a seperate peace agreement with the Arab Union?  The
report I have," said the woman, glancing down at her notes, "says that the
terms of the agreement lay out a plan for Neo-Queen Serenity to admit
wrongdoing in overstepping her bounds as a world leader.  It also provides
for Serenity-sama to stay on the throne as a figurehead, and for Crystal
Tokyo to pay the Arab Union's war debt.  Any comment upon that?"
 
	"You must be out of your mind!" was Sailor America's first unstated
response.  There was no way that Serenity would accept those terms, not
unless she had lost control of her faculties.  At the least, not unless
things were more bleak than even America had been told, and she couldn't
imagine things being much worse.  She didn't say that.  Instead: "To my
knowledge, that isn't correct.  While it's true that Sailor Cassiopeia has
been meeting with AU representatives, I don't know of any peace agreements
that have been made or are near completion."
 
	"Then what do you make of the report?" 
 
	"Unfounded speculation," replied America.  Or wishful thinking, she
silently appended.  Anitiwar sentiment was growing with each passing day,
and even Sailor America's near-perpetual optimism didn't seem enough to
defeat it.  How much longer could she keep her optimistic view on life
with a lover hundreds of kilometers away, and a brother who could very well
be far, far closer?
 
	"Next question, please?" 
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion knocked gently on the door.  "Come in." 
 
	Stepping into Sailor Jupiter's office, Orion couldn't help but
notice the disarray of things.  Sailor Jupiter had always been neat before,
but now confusion reigned.  "Sorry about the mess," said the brunette,
leaning back in her seat.  "But we barely averted that breakthrough near
Koshino, and I'm still cleaning up after that.  Anyway," she sighed, "what
do you need?"
 
	"You asked about morale earlier?" 
 
	"Yes." 
 
	"It's bad.  Very bad, I'm afraid."  Sailor Orion sat in a battered
chair that was totally at odds with her clean sailor fuku.  "I've been through the
barracks, down to the regional headquarters, everywhere.  It's the same
thing all around: the regulars are scared."
 
	"We all are," replied Jupiter. 
 
	"No, not just scared, terrified.  They think that we're doomed." 
 
	"We're not gods." 
 
	"But we've been acting pretty godlike, you have to admit," pressed
Sailor Orion, frustrated with Jupiter's curt replies.  "We're the most
powerful people on earth, and suddenly we're dying.  That's a huge blow to
our collective egos . . . and . . . ."
 
	"And?" 
 
	Orion took off her glasses and looked at them.  "And to our hearts." 
 
	Jupiter said nothing, but rather looked through some papers. 
"You're going out in the field again.  I need someone to supervise the
defense of Ashoro.  We're getting hammered up there, and . . . it's not
general knowledge, but we've lost five senshi there in the past two hours."
 
	Orion was dumbfounded.  "F-five?" 
 
	"They were all together.  The Allies staged a mini-breakthrough,
found them, and just like that their heart crystals were gone.  I'm writing
up the report for Crystal Tokyo right now . . . but the break has been
averted for the moment.  Anyway, that's your assignment.  Transportation's
been arranged, you have three hours to pack your bags."
 
	The redhead nodded; after the past couple weeks, almost nothing
fazed her anymore.  "I'll be on my way." She got up to leave.
 
	"Oh, and one other thing." 
 
	Sailor Orion paused at the door.  "Yes?" 
 
	"Tell me . . . when was the last time you spoke to your parents?" 
 
	"Last Thursday, I think.  Yeah, we were on the phone for quite
awhile."
 
	"What did you talk about?  If you don't mind me asking, that is." 
 
	"Um . . . everything, really.  But it was mainly about how I was
doing.  I said I was fine, I missed them, stuff like that."
 
	"I see."  Sailor Jupiter leaned back in her chair and rubbed her
temples.  "My parents are dead, you know.  Of course you know, you're a
history Ph. D.  But just what do you know about them, just out of
curiosity?"
 
	"Um, they died when you were young, that's all I've read.  A plane
crash, wasn't it?"
 
	"No, that's what everyone thinks.  It was actually an accident at
the airport.  The brakes on the shuttle bus failed.  My mother died
instantly, my father a day later . . . but the point is that when it hit the
fan around 1999, the other senshi saw a lot less of their parents.  And when
Her . . .  when Usagi got ready to make the announcement, she gave them a
day to say goodbye.
 
	"I'm sorry you only have three hours . . . I used to think you'd
have decades.  But if I were you, I'd talk to them.  You've definitely got
more time than I had." Jupiter swiveled her chair around so she faced away
from Sailor Orion.  "Goodbye, Jennifer Sakachi."
 
	Even though she wouldn't be able to see it, Orion bowed to Jupiter. 
"Goodbye . . . Sailor Jupiter." She turned and walked away.
 
==================================
Begun: 09:53 31 May 1998 
Finished: 22:16 14 June 1998 
Final draft: 21:01 3 July 1998
Final edit: 11:03 24 February 2001
==================================

 
======================================== 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A pretty original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #310: Saturn in Two Acts 
======================================== 

Crystal Tokyo
5 April 3035
 
	She had to admit that their reasoning was sound.  She'd tried again
and again to find a hole in their logic, a crack in their armor.  She had
failed.  Damned if she was going to give up easily, though.  "Okay," said
Sailor Mercury, "I really think we should wait before making a move like
this.  If we give her more time-"
 
	"Time is just what we don't have, Mercury."  Sailor Neptune seemed
terminally patient from her seat.  All the planet senshi except Venus,
Saturn, Pluto, and Jupiter were around the conference room table, along with
Endymion.

	The most notable absence was Neo-Queen Serenity herself.  She sat
alone in her chamber at the very top of the palace, still maintaining the
fragile shield over the city.  Sailor Mercury had made sure that medics were
with Serenity at all times, but that was all.  Few knew the strain she was
under: for the most part, the public, press, and even a good part of the
Palace staff thought she was perfectly fine.  As per Sailor America's
recommendations, that was the way things would stay.
 
	Sailor Neptune looked around the table before proceeding.  "The war
has been on for over a week.  Not only is there no end in sight, but now
with this heart crystal business we're losing both ground, manpower, and
senshi.  We have no choice, do we?  We all love Sailor Jupiter, but she had
her opportunity, and she failed.  It's time for someone else to have a try."
 
	"But . . . but she's been under considerable difficulty, hasn't she? 
Another week, that's all I ask!"
 
	"In another week, how many more senshi, how many regulars will die?"
A simple questions, with a simple answer.  They didn't know.  The only
person who might have known was Sailor Pluto, and she hadn't been seen for
months.  "With no objections, then we'll conduct the vote of whether or not
we have confidence in Sailor Jupiter.  Sailor Mercury?"
 
	"Yes." 
 
	Neptune's mouth tightened at that, but she gave no other sign of 
disapproval.  "Sailor Venus?" 
 
	The image of Sailor Venus, who was on the Moon, nodded.  "Yes."  
She was damned if she would give up on her Mako-chan. 
 
	"Sailor Mars?" 
 
	"No."  She hated herself for it, but she simply couldn't see any way
around it.
 
	"Sailor Jupiter cannot vote, and neither can Sailor Saturn, as
decided earlier.  Sailor Uranus?"
 
	"No." 
 
	No surprise there.  "I vote no.  Pluto is absent, Her Majesty
can overrule any decision . . . that leaves you, Sailor Moon."
 
	Sailor Moon rested her head on her hands, gazing around at the
senshi.  There were some analysts who were already proclaiming her to be the
great compromiser for her seeming ability to make both sides happy in any
dispute.  No-one knew how many more centuries the present queen would reign,
but it was generally accepted that the next queen would be as good as, if
not better, than her mother and namesake.  At the same time, she was still a
sailor senshi, and it was as a sailor senshi that she was being asked to
decide the fate of Sailor Jupiter.
 
	She weighed the pros and cons.  On the one hand, Jupiter had not
accomplished the missions that had been set for her: namely, to hold off and
quickly defeat the invading allies.  Until recently, simply fending them off
had been all that was possible; now, defeat was looking more and more
likely.  Already, the strategists were looking into putting defensive
emplacements on the northern tip of Honshu, and plans were being made to
fall back to Sapporo as a last resort.  Clearly, Jupiter wasn't doing an
effective job.
 
	However, she was doing the best job that could be expected.  Jupiter 
hadn't foreseen the Allied use of the Heart Busters; no-one could have 
except Her Majesty's Department of Intelligence, and the failures there were 
too numerous to mention.  How the Allies had cracked the secret of such a 
weapon was still a mystery.

	In Hokkaido, Jupiter had had to deal with twice as many enemy
numbers as Saturn had in Kyushu, with more ground to cover, more civilians
to evacuate, over the worst terrain the Japanese islands had to offer.  One
could be charitable and say that she had pulled off a series of miracles
just to get them to this point. The question before them, however, was if
the Senshi of Death and Rebirth, the Messiah of Silence, the one who held
the most mysteries next to Pluto, could do a better job.  Sailor Moon
thought she knew the answer to that.
 
	"Your vote?" asked Sailor Neptune. 
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Mintaka came to the door and knocked gently.  "Sailor
Jupiter?"
 
	"Come in," came the tired voice. 
 
	Mintaka was a hair taller than Sailor Mercury, and was a distinct
oddity: of all the senshi, her blonde hair was the only hair to come in
curls.  She straightened her orange skirt and yellow bows before proceeding. 
"Sir," she said without preamble, "I have an order for you.  You're to
report to Earth Headquarters immediately.  En route you will meet Sailor
Saturn and transfer your command."
 
	The green eyes blinked, uncomprehending.  "What the *hell* are you
talking about?!"
 
	"Furthermore," continued Mintaka shakily, "you are hereby relieved
of your duties as Deputy Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, by the
order of Neo-Queen Serenity and recommendation of the sailor senshi." Sailor
Mintaka was crying now, not believing that she could be called upon to tell
one of the *planet* senshi to pack it up and go home.  "I'm so sorry, Sailor
Jupiter."
 
	The mind of the senshi of thunder reeled.  'This couldn't be
happening,' she told herself, 'this simply cannot be happening.  This entire
spring has been a nightmare, any moment I'll wake up and it'll be January,
before any of this madness started.'
 
	"Sailor Jupiter, I'm going to need confirmation on that.  Could you
. . . could you acknowledge the order, please?"
 
	"Confirmation of what?" growled Jupiter. 
 
	"Sailor Jupiter . . . I'm sorry, really I am, but I'm just doing my
job . . . ."
 
	"It's okay, I . . . I understand."  'The hell I understand,' thought
Jupiter.  'Relieved of my command, returning to Crystal Tokyo in disgrace,
I'd probably be better off dead!' But she didn't dare say this aloud.  By
the kami, she was a planet senshi, and as such she had an image to maintain. 
With her command gone, image was all she had.  Thus: "Very well, order
acknowledged.  I'll go to Crystal Tokyo immediately, thank you."
 
	Sailor Mintaka bowed gratefully.  "Sir," she said, and then paused,
looking about as if expecting visitors.  "Sir, I just wanted you to know
that I . . . I and some others, we support you.  If you consider the
possibilities-"
 
	"I won't," replied Sailor Jupiter in a tone that sent chills down
the younger senshi's spine.  "I won't, and neither will you.  Count yourself
lucky that I didn't have you arrested for treason when I damn well could
have.  The last thing we need is a repeat of the sailor wars, and by God, if
that's what you want I'll kill you right now, GOT ME?!"
 
	Sailor Mintaka shrank back.  "I didn't mean to imply-" 
 
	"I've heard enough.  You've done your job, now LEAVE!" 
 
	"Sorry, Sailor Jupiter."  Mintaka bowed and made her hurried exit. 
 
	Jupiter stood for a moment and stated mutely at the plain wooden
door, now closed.  Then she cried out and kicked it.  "Shit!"
 
*** 
 
	"You're certain of it?" asked Sailor America. 
 
	"Very certain.  I could hardly believe it myself," replied Sailor
Cassiopeia tiredly.  The two were on opposite ends of a communications line,
America in her office and Cassiopeia in her own.
 
	Sailor America leaned back in her chair and let out an appreciative
sigh.  Whoever was running the universe hadn't run out of tricks yet, it
seemed.  "So Serenity made a call to the bullpen.  Very interesting."
 
	"That puts Sailor Uranus in the ready position, too." 
 
	Sailor America winced.  Quite a few in the press would no doubt make
speculations about the logical conclusion: remove Saturn after a couple
days, leaving Uranus and Neptune together as co-leaders of the military.  No
matter how unlikely it was in reality, that was how the public would see it. 
That would complicate matters for Sailor America, especially with respect to
how the public viewed her relationship with Sailor Orion.  It had been hard
work convincing them that neither of them benefited from favoritism, but now
it would be double difficult.  "Hm.  I've got to speak to Jupiter when she
arrives, then."
 
	"Good luck.  After the rest of the planet senshi get done with her,
there may not be much left."
 
	"Perfect.  Anything new on the peace front?" 
 
	"No luck at all.  I've looked their diplomats in the eyes, they're
more confident than anyone I've seen before.  Either they're convinced they
can and will beat us, or they've got perfect poker faces."
 
	"We've never lost a war," said America slowly. 
 
	"Yes you have." 
 
	"Not us, Crystal Tokyo," Sailor America replied irritably.  It was
enough she'd forsaken her homeland, did she have to be continually reminded
of the fact?
 
	"Oh.  But we've never had such opponents before, either.  I don't 
think historical precedent is going to matter a damn, not this time." 
 
	"You may be right."  Sailor America lowered her voice.  "Have you
given any thought to my proposal?"
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia frowned.  "I've told you, Sailor America, I can't
do it.  It's getting harder and harder for us noncombatant senshi to stay
that way, I can't possibly justify another one unless she has a *very*
serious injury."
 
	"But the whole reason for getting her here is to avoid that, and-" 
 
	"I know that, dammit!"  Sailor Cassiopeia opened her mouth as if to
say something, but then thought better of it.  "Look . . . Sailor Rigel died
this morning, and I'm still . . . I'll talk to you later."
 
	Sailor America gasped.  "Then it was true about you and-" 
 
	"I'll talk to you later," she repeated firmly.  "Bye."  The
connection closed.
 
	"Oh Cassiopeia . . . ." 
 
*** 
 
	The booming was constant.  It had been going on and on for the past
fifteen hours, and showed no signs of slowing up.  To Sailor Orion, it was
still just as unpleasant as it had been from the beginning.
 
	"Sailor Orion?" asked a tech.  "Sailors Cygnus and Deneb need to
speak with you."
 
	She was in the communications center of local headquarters, in a 
medium-sized town a couple hundred kilometers from Sapporo called Ashoro.  
Here, under the direct supervision of Sailors Cygnus and Deneb, she was 
observing the battle and pondering improvements. 
 
	"Right now?" asked Sailor Orion.  It was close to the end of her
shift; she would have preferred that it wait until tomorrow.
 
	"It sounded fairly urgent, sir." 
 
	"Very well."  A few flights of stairs later, she was in the office
Cygnus and Deneb shared.  Sailor Cygnus wasted no time.
 
	"Sailor Jupiter has been replaced by Sailor Saturn.  You are to
report back to front headquarters for instructions.  That's all."
 
	"Replaced?" 
 
	"That's all," repeated Sailor Cygnus.  "Go." 
 
	"Might I ask a question?" 
 
	"No," said Sailor Cygnus. 
 
	"Yes," said Sailor Deneb.  She may have been one of the shortest of
the sailor senshi, but she had no intention of backing down now.  "Ask your
question, Sailor Orion."
 
	"Why . . . why was she replaced?" 
 
	"The reason we were given," replied Sailor Deneb, a bit of a Welsh
lilt seeping into her voice, "was that her efficiency had dropped to
intolerable levels.  You can make of that what you like."
 
	"I see," said Sailor Orion slowly.  So that was the game they were
playing now.  "I'll be going, then, but . . . have you spoken to your family
lately?" Sailor America had asked her to ask the Welsh senshi this.
 
	Sailor Deneb flinched.  "After the recent food riot, most of Wales
has been put under martial law, so I can't get in contact with them.  I
don't know anymore."
 
	Sailor Orion looked piteously at Sailor Deneb, then nodded.  "Good
luck," she said simply.  She bowed and left the building.
 
	Outside the door she bumped into Sailor Pyxis.  She was another of
the foreign senshi: of Egyptian descent, although her family had moved south
to avoid persecution.  Sailor Pyxis often reflected that passing the Exam
had been the most wonderful experience of her life, for it had provided the
opportunity for her to leave her war-torn continent.  She gladly dealt with
the anti-foreign senshi remarks: nothing they said could be worse that what
she had heard before.
 
	"Good afternoon, Sailor Pyxis." 
 
	"Hi, Sailor Orion."  A warm smile crinkled Pyxis's brown face. 
"Doing okay?"
 
	"Not quite," replied Orion.  "Jupiter's been replaced, and I'm going
back to report to Sailor Saturn."
 
	Pyxis shook her head slowly, her long black ponytail waving back and
forth.  "It's a crazy world out there now.  We-"
 
	She was cut off by a high whistling sound.  Orion had never heard it 
before, but her elder recognized it immediately. 
 
	"Duck!" screamed Sailor Pyxis, tackling the taller senshi down to
the ground.  She was too slow, though, and too unlucky.
 
	A stray missile had leaked through the anti-air defenses.  A quick
shot by a soldier with a manned laser cannon had disabled the missile's
engine, but at the same time knocked it off course.  Instead of landing in a
nearby stream as it might otherwise have done, it slammed into city hall,
which had been serving as the local base of operations.  Sailors Cygnus and
Deneb were unlucky enough to be inside.  Sailors Orion and Pyxis were a bit
more fortunate, but not quite.
 
	The warhead exploded, instantly demolishing the building and sending
into the air anyone and anything that was near it.  Pyxis, still clutching
Orion, flew twenty meters before crashing onto the paved apron of a nearby
tennis court.  They bounced twice and lay still as bits of flaming debris
fell all around them.  Far too late, the air raid sirens began to wail, then
stopped.  For seven seconds there was silence, except for the crackle of
fire.  Then the screaming started, as the shock wore off and the wounded
realized just how much pain consumed them.
 
	Sailor Orion woke up first.  She blinked twice, trying to make the
world stop spinning.  Slowly, it did.  Satisfied with this, she tried to get
up.  "GAH!" she screamed, collapsing back down to the ground and clutching
her right leg.  Something hurt so badly there . . . probably broken, right
below the knee.  She looked down at the leg; other than numerous scratches
and cuts, there was no outward sign of anything amiss.  Appearances could
deceive, however.  She turned her head towards headquarters.  The building
was no longer there, replaced with a mass of flames.  In a single look, she
realized that nothing inside could have survived.  Sailors Cygnus and Deneb
were dead.  Sailor Pyxis was close to it. 
 
	It was Sailor Pyxis that Sailor Orion laid eyes on next.  Her brown
face was miraculously unscarred, but her leg was twisted at a grotesque
angle, and her white bodysuit was now stained black from burns and red from
something worse.
 
	"Sailor Pyxis!" cried Orion.  Disregarding her own injuries, she
crawled towards the other senshi, her hands being cut by the broken glass
that lay everywhere.  By the time Sailor Orion got to Pyxis's position, her
palms had turned a red darker than that of her hair.  "Sailor Pyxis!  Are
you all right?" A low moan was the only response.  Sailor Orion lay next to
Pyxis, panting from the exertion.  In contrast, Sailor Pyxis breathed slowly
and shallowly.  "Sailor Pyxis . . . don't die." She knew, however, that the
African senshi had little time left.  "C'mon, we've got to get you to the
medics." The first rule of first aid, she knew, was not to move the injured,
but she feared the flames of the ruined headquarters building more than she
feared doing Pyxis any spinal damage.
 
	She took a deep breath and rose to her feet.  The shock of the pain
was like nothing she had felt before. Dimly, a remote part of her mind told
her that her leg was broken for sure.  The searing pain made her forget
that, however.  She ground her teeth together; things would only get worse
from here.  Summoning every scrap of strength and endurance that her senshi
form allowed, she leant over and in a single fluid motion scooped up Sailor
Pyxis into her arms.  Using an old meditative technique taught to all
senshi, she tried her best to put the pain out of her mind. It was only
because she was a senshi that she didn't go into shock from it all, but it
was still the greatest struggle in her mind just to keep thinking clearly. 
She didn't know how long she could last, though.

	She prayed to whoever might be listening, hoping that she could make 
it to a field hospital.  If nothing else, let Pyxis die with the aid of 
painkillers.  Such a fine senshi didn't deserve to die like this, under a 
gray sky and beside a burning red building.  She just didn't deserve it. 
 
*** 
 
	It was stiflingly warm in the medical tent that had been hastily
assembled near the strike area.  Sailor Orion was sweating visibly.  Her leg
had no cast, only a splint.  Only her more serious cuts had been quickly and
sloppily bandaged by a nurse who had taken pity on her, deciding that a
sailor senshi was owed preferential treatment against the cruel reality of
triage.  Now the redheaded senshi simply sat and waited for word of Sailor
Pyxis's condition.
 
	"Sailor Orion?" 
 
	She looked up at the girl, scarcely eighteen.  "Eiko Matsushita,
communications," she said, bowing.  If Sailor Orion hadn't had other things
to worry about she might have surmised that the girl was a fresh recruit,
thrust into her position because those with more experience had just died in
the attack.  "Yes, that's me."
 
	"Sir, it's chaos, we don't know what to make of these reports, and-"
 
	"Let me see them," said Orion tiredly.  She squinted at the
proffered handlink, then frowned and took off her glasses.  An inspection
found that there was a clear crack running the whole way across the right
lens.  She sighed, tossed aside the spectacles, and reached into nowhere,
pulling out an identical, undamaged pair.  It paid to be prepared, although
she had been fairly certain someone had told her the glasses were
essentially indestructible.
 
	Sailor Orion looked at the reports again.  "Dammit," she grumbled. 
Sailors Cygnus and Deneb had been about to order a counterattack when the
missile hit, and the Allies, sensing their opportunity, had struck.  The
defense line was now strained to the point of breaking, and most ominously,
there was a single, late report hinting that at one point the line had
already been broken.  There was no question of going to a higher authority;
the two dead senshi had answered directly to Jupiter, and with the Royal
Army changing horses in midstream, it would be futile to ask for orders.  By
the time a reply arrived, the Allies would probably be in Sapporo.
 
	No, Sailor Orion was a senshi, and as ranking officer she had to
take over the defense and prevent a complete breakthrough, using all the
ground warfare knowledge at her disposal.  Unfortunately, that amounted to
three weeks of military history class at the School, most of which she only
dimly remembered.  Sailor Orion was not a great commander, and there was no
hope of her becoming one in the short time they had left, but there was no
choice.  She put down the handlink.  "Any word from headquarters?" 
 
	"None, sir." 
 
	"Very well."  Fighting was the very last thing she had the stomach
for, but no-one else could fill her suddenly large shoes.  "As no other
personnel present exceed my rank, I declare myself to be in command of this
sector, effective immediately."
 
	"Yes, sir!" 
 
	'Enthusiastic, isn't she?' thought Orion.  "Okay, I need a list of
all ranking officers here that are still alive."
 
	"I'll get right-" 
 
	"Not done yet.  I'll also need the techs working on a new bunker far
away from here, as a command center.  I need to replace the casualties.  I
need supplies for a long engagement, a week at best if we're to turn the
Allies back.  I need-"
 
	"Slow down!" whined Eiko, "I can't get all this at once!" 
 
	"We can't slow down, we're already out of time.  First, before
anything else, get me the unit commanders, and some numbers . . . what do I
want . . . damn!" 'My brain can't freeze on me now,' she thought.  It didn't
matter to her that she'd narrowly escaped certain death just an hour or so
ago.  Now was all that was important.
 
	"Troop strengths, sir?" 
 
	"Exactly!"  'Couldn't think of the stupid term,' she thought. 
"Those, and their positions.  We've got work to do."
 
	"Okay."  A note of uncertainty crept into the voice of a girl who a
month ago never thought she'd ever see a senshi, let along one as banged up
as the tall redhead before her.  "Are you okay?"
 
	"I'm fine, don't worry about me," she lied.  She didn't even know if
she could walk, but the fuku she wore forced her to look cool and confident. 
Senshi were allowed to be scared to death, but damned if they could show it.
 
	"Then I'll get right on it, sir.  Bye."  Again bowing instead of
saluting, she popped out the door, leaving Sailor Orion alone with the smell
of heavy-duty disinfectant soap that had been a hospital tradition for over
a millennium.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion stepped outside, unable to hide her limp completely. 
She supposed it would be awhile until she was able to walk normally, but at
the same time it seemed that there were more important things to attend to. 
A new temporary headquarters was being constructed nearby, but she only
shook her head.  "No," she said absently, stopping a busy engineer in his
tracks.
 
	"Pardon, sir?" 
 
	"This is all wrong," she murmured, "there's something I'm
forgetting." There was a peal of thunder, and the redhead realized just what
she had forgotten.  "THE ALLIES!" She struggled not to panic.  "Need
positions, positions . . . ."
 
	"Sir?" 
 
	"Eiko-chan!" 
 
	"Yes?" replied Eiko guardedly.  She had just come looking for Orion,
brandishing a stack of handlinks.
 
	"Where are the Allies?" 
 
	"About-" 
 
	BOOM. 
 
	"-that close, sir.  Ten kilometers!" 
 
	"That settles it, then.  We've got to run and regroup. I want all
our forces to form a kilometer perimeter around the town, we've got to give
the injured time to get out of here."
 
	"And us?" 
 
	"We're expendable.  Get moving." 
 
	"Si-" 
 
	"Do it!"  'Now,' she thought, 'before I'm too afraid to follow
through . . . . 
 
	"Okay."  Sailor Orion watched Eiko nod in reply and run off on some
errand.  Then the redhead went to the infirmary to give the order to
evacuate in person.  As she walked by a copse of trees, she tried very hard
not to think about the Allied troops just kilometers away, hiding in trees
much like these, brandishing the one weapon a senshi like her feared the
most.
 
	She grew older by the second. 


================================== 
Begun: 18:34 23 June 1998 
Finished: 20:19 5 July 1998
Final draft: 06:50 25 July 1998
Final edit: 14:26 24 February 2001


======================================== 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A pretty original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #311: Naval Supremacy 
======================================== 
 
Hong Kong, Chinese Confederation 
6 April 3035 
 
 
	"Admiral, your report please?"  President Prathachulthorn was
completely relaxed in his chair.  Today's meeting was being held in Hong
Kong, as close to the war as the Allied leaders had dared draw near to date. 
Originally, they were to meet in the smaller town of Yichang, but the food
riots were growing worse.  Safety for the six could be found only in the
larger cities.
 
	"Sirs, I am pleased to report that a breakthrough has been achieved. 
Elements of our Fourth and Ninth Armies, under joint European and AC
command, have broken the defensive line, and we have a gap of seven
kilometers to exploit."
 
	There was no hiding the grins of glee that followed that statement. 
"Excellent!" proclaimed Fayit.
 
	"Yes sirs.  Even our most pessimistic projections give us control
over half of Hokkaido, and the moderates say we'll keep the entire island."
 
	Ronowski turned to Prathachulthorn, a look of triumph on his face. 
"You had your doubts?" he said simply.
 
	"We all did," replied Prathachulthorn.  "And this war isn't over
yet.  Remember Kyushu."
 
	"Speaking of Kyushu," said Cabot, "isn't the little bitch who
stopped us there leaving?"
 
	"Um, that's right, ma'am," answered the admiral.  "Crystal Tokyo
media is reporting that Sailor Saturn's been reassigned to Hokkaido, leaving
one of her subordinates to handle mop-up operations in the south.  Sailor
Crux, I think."
 
	"It's of little matter," said Ronowski.  "She can't work miracles. 
In the meantime, we should do as agreed and withdraw from Kyushu.  Such a
good faith measure should help matters on the diplomatic front."
 
	"Perhaps," said Cabot slowly, "but there's a little something we've
forgotten."
 
	Liu grimaced.  "Mina, Mina, Mina, we decided on that over a year
ago.  Your plan . . . ."
 
	"Starburst." 
 
	"Whatever.  Anyway, we agreed back in '34 that it was far too
expensive, especially considering the possible returns.  Besides, look at
what we've already accomplished!  We established the foothold, took care of
Serenity-- that was a stroke of luck I still find it hard to believe--, and
Heartbreaker has been more successful that we could have *dreamed*! 
Fifty-eight senshi dead so far: casualty rates no other attacker has come
close to!" He didn't know about the total losses taken in the twentieth, but
then again that wasn't exactly common knowledge.
 
	"Exactly," agreed SEAA.  "The plan has worked marvelously so far,
there's no reason to deviate now."
 
	"The greater the risk, the greater the victory." 
 
	"Pretty words," came the retort, "but we won't spend trillions on an
aphorism."
 
	"We can bury them!" 
 
	"Then bury them yourself," said Prathachulthorn with an air of
finality.  "Proceed if you like, but EU will have to do it by itself."
 
	Ronowski frowned.  "That's a decision to be made by the Council,
Sean.  You shouldn't presume to speak for us."
 
	"And you should?" 
 
	"Don't start with me, David . . . ." 
 
	"I think we can agree," interjected Rostov, "that Mina will proceed
without our assistance.  No need to bicker."
 
	Cabot sat back with a sad look on her face; she had her own reasons
for Starburst, but she wasn't at all keen on her confederation footing the
entire bill.  'But it'll be worth it,' she thought with a quiet smile.
 
	The president of Russia had other concerns, however.  The division
between SEAA and AC was only growing, at a point where it should have been
nonexistent.  He could only hope that the coalition held; if it fell apart,
he was certain of one thing: Crystal Tokyo would have no mercy. 
 
*** 
 
	The ships sat out in space, motionless and silent.  With the right
persons on board, they could be the most powerful devices made by man or
woman, but at the moment they were next to helpless.  They were the ships of
the Royal Star Navy, a fleet designed to ensure that the nightmare of the
Black Moon Invasion could never happen again.  Now a different invasion was
showing that it was essentially useless.

	Each ship carried a gestalt device, capable of magnifying the
inherent powers of a sailor senshi.  It would have been a small matter for
the right senshi to obliterate Allied targets from space, to be sure.  The
Allied strategy still held, however; by deliberately placing their assets in
and around civilian population centers, they ensured that Crystal Tokyo
wouldn't dare strike, not without risking millions of innocent deaths.
 
	Thus, the senshi who commanded the ships had found more useful
employment elsewhere on Earth, and the ships themselves, manned by skeleton
crews, were resigned to ferrying food and supplies to a Crystal Tokyo that
had suddenly had all its former terrestrial suppliers cut off. It was an
operation that the Allies hadn't interfered with so far. That was due to
change, however.
 
*** 
 
	Earth Headquarters was in its usual state of controlled chaos. With
Sailor Jupiter's return, the mood had darkened significantly: a sharp
contrast to the brighter moods that accompanied Sailor Saturn's arrival in
the north.  Many there remembered Sailor Jupiter's time at headquarters, and
the aura of defeat she brought with her was too much to bear.  They had to
bear it, though, if they were to survive.
 
	As if that weren't enough, there was the breakthrough.  The defense
line had been broken, and now it was a race against time to contain the
hole: a race many feared the Army would lose.  Already, terrible losses were
being taken by both sailor senshi and regulars.  The only solace was that
the survivors were receiving a valuable education in how to make it on the
battlefield.  The Royal Army may have been a group of pushovers before, but
those who remained were rapidly shedding that label.
 
	Thus, there were reasons to be both encouraged and dismayed in the
command center at 10:33 local time.  Then there came another reason for
dismay.  "Air warning yellow, missile launch detected." 
 
	Silently standing watch, Sailor Neptune perked up at this.  So did
Sailor Venus, who sat at her side.  "Yellow?" asked the senshi of the seas,
looking up at the status screens.
 
	"Possible threat to us, but not direct," explained Sailor Venus. 
 
	"I knew that," said Sailor Neptune, but at the same time she knew
the blonde wasn't trying to patronize her.
 
	"We have confirmation," cut in the talker.  Her voice was a
masterpiece of control under pressure.  "Ballistic missile launch, point of
origin estimated to be France and the Iberian peninsula, exact positions now
on screen.  Automatic antiballistic missile defense systems coming online. 
Missiles are now . . .  wait, they are *not* inbound, say again *not*
inbound."
 
	Sailor Neptune frowned and went to stand over the talker's shoulder. 
"They're not heading for us?" she asked.  Dared she hope that factionalism
had finally taken hold of the Allies, that their enemies might fall upon
themselves and take care of all Her Majesty's problems?
 
	"Yes . . . they're just going out into space." 
 
	"Our ships?" 
 
	"Already maneuvering to avoid.  Very odd though, sirs, they don't
seem to have the speed to reach . . . er . . . ." On the status screens the
missile tracks, shown from an orbital point of view, began to disappear.
 
	"What sort of trickery is this?" 
 
	"Just disappearing?" asked Sailor Venus in disbelief.
 
	Then the radar began to blur into static.  "Debris field," explained
a radar tech in the crows' nest, jumping over the talker's precedence.  "It
should clear up in a few moments."
 
	"Hm," murmured Neptune.  "Put the RSN on maximum alert until then.
They might be planning to try some funny business under the static."
 
	"Yes, sir."
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion was as alone as she had ever been.  In command of five
hundred troops, charged with defeating with those five hundred a force
easily ten times that number, and not knowing how she could possibly manage
to do so.  'Any rational commander would surrender,' she thought.  'So why
am I still here?' She ceased the unproductive line of thinking as she
received another report.
 
	"Sir" said Eiko, "we've just received another scout report.  Two
platoons of Russian infantry making quick progress south.  Estimated time to
intercept with Beta platoon, three minutes."
 
	The redhead closed her eyes, thought, then opened them.  "Dispatch
twelve people from Ashinozawa Highway to take care of it, and shorten the
line at Point Zankoku to compensate."
 
	Her erstwhile assistant didn't bother to note that this would place
an already naked piece of land in even worse condition.  As far as Eiko was
concerned, it was a good thing Orion and not she was making that decision. 
"It'll be relayed immediately."  She left Orion alone with her thoughts.  

	The redheaded senshi hadn't had a good night's sleep in thirty-six
hours, surviving on adrenaline and standard issue rations.  Thrown in for
variety were a few painkillers as a token act of defiance against her
injury.  The medics no longer pressured her to stay in bed and recover; that
would quickly lead to defeat.  She had to stand strong and set an example
for her command, the command that had literally been decimated by previous
attacks and now forced into a desperate struggle to hold back the Allied
advance.
 
	Sailor Orion looked longingly to the southwest.  Somewhere out there
was her superior, Sailor Saturn. The only message that Orion had received in
reply to her hourly pleas for reinforcements was a simple note to stay calm
and hold her position.  Sailor Orion had promptly replied that staying calm
was contingent upon holding her position, that holding her position was
contingent upon receiving reinforcements, and that therefore sending said
reinforcements would indeed be a boon for all involved, all this in slightly
more colorful language.  To that she had gotten no reply.  Thus, she
worried.
 
*** 
 
	The reason she had gotten no reply was due both to Sailor Saturn's
unusual style of leadership and an as yet untested theory of Sailor
Mercury's that Saturn was investigating.
 
	The style was simple: lead by example.  She rarely lingered in her
headquarters, preferring to face the enemy personally.  There she found,
much as in Kyushu, that people still feared the name of Sailor Saturn. 
Those who didn't fear the name learned to do so.  Quickly.
 
	On the battlefield she was death in a sailor fuku.  She flew from
one target to the next: an infantryman here, a tank there, using her glaive
or her powers, whichever gave her the most advantage at that moment.  Of
course the Allies made her a prime target for their heart buster guns, but
she seemingly had a sixth sense of where they were aimed at her: a
sensitivity perhaps borne out of her previous dealings with heart crystals.
 
	Her ruthlessness became legend throughout the Royal Army, and up and
down the ranks the word was passed to follow Sailor Saturn's example: ask
for no quarter, and none will be given.  Because of this, some began to
resurrect her old nickname with a slight emendation: the messiah of
destruction.  In any case, it seemed that nothing could defeat her, or at
least those under her command thought so.  For that reason, morale in the
north was steadily rising.  Some even thought that there was a chance of
victory.
 
	The second reason had yet to come to fruition, but if it held Sailor
Saturn would have no worries about keeping Hokkaido.  She walked into
theater headquarters in Sapporo, fresh from a morning in the field.  Wiping
away the sweat with a light purple towel, she glanced up at Sailor Ankaa.
 
	"Another request from Sailor Orion for reinforcements," said Sailor
Ankaa.  Her long, dark blue hair whirled as she spoke animatedly.  "Sailor
Saturn, this is the third request today!  If there's any truth-"

 	"Sailor Orion is panicking," said Saturn quietly.  "She's never been
in this position before, she's unsure of what to do, and she's convinced
herself that the only remedy is more firepower." She put down the towel,
placing it in a corner of her little-used office along with the Silence
Glaive.  "The resources are needed elsewhere.  She will continue with what
she has." Her voice was soft, but brooked no argument.
 
	"She won't survive, sir." said Sailor Ankaa harshly.  "You know
that."
 
	"Have faith.  Love will find a way." 
 
	"Love?"  Sailor Ankaa was incredulous; twelve years as a senshi, and
her first taste of action lead to a romantic debate?  Didn't Sailor Saturn
see that if a breakthrough wasn't worth sending reinforcements, nothing was?
 
	"Yes."  Saturn pointed to the heart shaped pendant of her sailor
fuku, one of the distinguishing characteristics of the planet senshi in
their super forms.  "Love."
 
	Sailor Ankaa's eyes widened in realization. 
 
*** 
 
	"Sir, shortening the line seems to have been effective," reported
Eiko to Sailor Orion.  "The Russian strike's been repulsed with moderate
losses."
 
	"Thank the kami," breathed Sailor Orion.  The two were in her
office, which was merely a curtained-off corner of a larger tent.  "They
know we're due for *something* to go right with all this.  Anything else?"
 
	"Um, nothing you don't already know about.  Your plan to fix the 
breakthrough will begin in a few minutes." 
 
	"Yes.  You'll keep me advised . . . no, I'll go out and supervise it 
myself." 
 
	"Yes, sir." 
 
	Orion nodded and leaned back in her chair as Eiko left.  Her leg was
almost completely healed, but it still hurt terribly to walk.  It hurt too
much to think sometimes, too.  Three hours ago she had gone to the infirmary
to inquire after Sailor Pyxis.  Her plight had been forgotten by Sailor
Orion in the confusion of defense, and Sailor Orion had just remembered
about her.  Upon arrival, she had found that Pyxis was dead.  When she
learned this, it hadn't shocked her as much as she had thought it would. 
She'd expected it in a way, had gotten over the grief back during the fatal
attack.  No, she couldn't shed a tear, and she hated herself for it. 
 
	On her way out she passed the injured.  For the first time, she
realized just how many of them there were.  So wrapped up she had been in
all the dead senshi that she hadn't noticed how many of the regular troops
were dead or wounded.  Their story was repeated over and over.  Join the
Army!  Two years of service and you'll get a free line on your resume! 
After all, it wasn't as if you'd actually do any fighting.  That was left to
the Royal Star Navy, where the serious military types signed up.
 
	Now, all those who had joined the Royal Army for a fun time found
their lives to be in ruins.  Casualties were horrendous; up to sixty percent
attrition in some divisions.  To be sure, they were doing a tremendous job
under the circumstances, outnumbered as they were at every turn.  The losses
continued to mount, though.  Some succumbed to shell shock, others simply
went insane.  Few deserted; there weren't many places to hide, and everyone
knew that if the Allies won, desertion would become moot.  Most simply fell
to injury, though.  Here a burn, there a wound from a gun, others from a
host of ailments that was a med student's dream.  

	One in particular had caught her eye.  He was pretty young: about
twenty-one, typical Japanese.  Like many, he had been temporarily overlooked
by the overworked medical staff, left to sit and wait seemingly forever for
treatment.  There the normality faded away: his left eye was taped over with
a red-soaked bandage, and three IV hookups were connected to his left arm. 
His right arm wasn't there.
 
	Sailor Orion had gasped at the sight and swallowed hard.  For all
her dealings with warfare, this was by far the most graphic example of its
results with which she had been presented.
 
	Then he opened his mouth.  "Help . . . ," he croaked, his mouth full
of blood.
 
	It was too much.  Orion whirled away, losing her breakfast on the
floor.  She grabbed onto a bedpost for support, and a minute later an
orderly came by to clean up the mess.  Sailor Orion quickly walked away, but
no-one mentioned a word about her loss of control, at least not to her face.
 
	She couldn't shake the image of the other faces in the infirmary as
she had hurriedly walked away . . . looks akin to triumph, saying "now you
truly know what we face while you cry over a handful of goddamned senshi."
More than anything else, she couldn't shake the face that would haunt her
nightmares for nearly a year, the face of a boy crying out for help she
couldn't give.  She hadn't gone back there since. 
 
	Looking at the perversely blue sky in the midst of what she truly
thought to be hell, Orion ached so much to be with Eileen, if only for a
moment.  If only-- She blinked.  Something had flashed.
 
*** 
 
	The something was H.M.S. Valiant, a light freighter carrying mostly
food from one of the Crystal Millennium's three farming worlds.  Such
imports were now terribly important, especially now that trade with the
grain-rich AC and SEAA had ground to a halt.  Japan no longer had the land
to spare on rice, and so much of it had to come from elsewhere.
 
	Valiant slipped into a reentry approach, prepared to land at the
main spaceport on Shikoku.  On its way, it struck what appeared to be a bit
of debris from the European missile volley.  The ensuing explosion assured
everyone that it was far more than debris.
 
*** 
 
	On the Moon, Sailor Mars was livid.  Just ten seconds before control
of the ship was transferred from RSN headquarters to its Terran counterpart,
the supply ship had been crippled.  It now wheeled about in space, its
atmosphere leaking away, its crew most likely dead.  Their deaths were
Mars's responsibility, and she was not at all pleased about it.
 
	"Dammit," she nearly screamed at the screen, "why in the name of the
kami didn't you tell us about those mines?"
 
	"We didn't know," retorted Sailor Neptune.  She looked almost
terminally calm, though; either these weeks of warfare had inured her to
such tragedy, or she just didn't give a damn anymore.  "Up until now we
thought-"
 
	"You thought wrong, and we've got thirty-eight dead because of it. 
We'll begin mine sweeping operations immediately.  That's all." With a
contemptuous poke, Sailor Mars closed the connection.
 
	"We didn't know," murmured Sailor Neptune.  She stood and leaned out
over the safety railing, looking out at the floor of Earth headquarters. 
"But we do know now, and it's going to stop."
 
*** 
 
	Mine sweeping was an art the Royal Star Navy had only practiced on
computers and in literature, but now was the time to put it into action. 
The dozen or so ships dispatched to deal with the mines worked with a
handicap, however; they weren't commanded by senshi.  In particular, the
absence of Sailor Enif chafed, whose ability was, or rather had been before
her death, a sort of net to capture opponents.  The ships had other tricks
up their sleeves, however.  Immediately their sensing devices went to work
hunting down the mines.
 
	It was terribly slow work, though.  They couldn't use nuclear
weapons, partly because it would mean admitting to the world that they had
them, and partly because of the environmental impact.  Lasers had to be
targeted precisely, a precision that simply wasn't possible with the wider
beams that would have been able to take out more at the same time.  After
all, there were the satellites to be careful of as well.  So they pressed
on, but it could quite possibly take days to complete, days that Crystal
Tokyo simply didn't have.
 
*** 
 
	"Foolish, very foolish," said Fayit.  "Even if you planned to
continue without our assistance . . . do you realize the damage you've
done?"
 
	Cabot smiled.  "I realize that I've just crippled Crystal Tokyo's
chief means of resupply."
 
	"Fool!  Don't you think they have reserves?" 
 
	"They won't last forever." 
 
	"I don't care," said Prathachulthorn.  "The whole thing will sink
us, mark my words."
 
	Ronowski said nothing, but inwardly growled.  His Kiwi friend had
been growing more and more annoying lately; it was all he could manage to
contain his temper.  He told himself that it would all work out in the end. 
Their objective was within sight; nothing could stop them . . . except, of
course, for a surge of willpower from Crystal Tokyo, or a complete collapse
on the part of the allies.  Considering the precarious state they sat in,
that seemed all too likely.
 
*** 
 
	She watched, and waited.  She could be patient.  She had to be. 
 
================================== 
Begun: 07:28 3 July 1998 
Finished: 18:26 15 July 1998
Final draft: 7:09 29 July 1998
Final edit: 17:16 24 February 2001

================================ 
Episode #312: The Orbital Gambit 
================================ 
 
Somewhere on the island of Hokkaido 
10 April 3035 
 
	He could have managed if it weren't for the Aussies, he really could
have.  Them and their incessant gloating about how the war would have been
over so much more quickly if they had allowed the SEAA to run the operation.
 
	The war.  As if this particular American, or anyone else for that
matter, knew why they were fighting.  One day it was in retaliation for a
Crystal Tokyo first strike, the next a police action, the next a move to
assist allies he hadn't known the AC had.  He'd heard so many stories that
he didn't know what to believe anymore.
 
	His comrades didn't, either.  The three men and two women with whom
he shared a miserable little tent each had different versions of why there
were spending their spring on this Godforsaken island waiting to die, all
quoting "inside sources." He had to admit that they all seemed equally
plausible; he didn't care anymore.  Seeing your friends die needlessly, only
to be replaced with new friends who were killed in turn and replaced with
more, made one a bit apathetic to why one was fighting.  It made one
apathetic to everything, really.
 
	He couldn't afford to cloud his mind with such thoughts now, though;
distractions were what got a body killed, and those who hadn't learned that
by now were either still at the rear and waiting for action, or had already
seen action and died for it.  There was only the rifle in his hand, which
after an eternity of combat almost an extension of his body, the worn helmet
that had already saved his life a dozen times at the least, the silent rasp
that was his breath, and one . . . little . . . thing.
 
	The memories of his sister, Eileen Pearcy. 
 
*** 
 
	"Sir?  Sir, wake up please!  Sir?  Sir!"  Sailor America woke up
groggily and looked about, trying to figure out just where she was.  The
aide seemed to read her mind.  "You're in your office, sir; you've
overslept."
 
	Overslept?  She hadn't know she was supposed to be sleeping.  For a
moment, she considered just waving the aide away and returning to her
slumber.  Then she remembered her nightmare, in which her one true love had
died a slow, painful, and particularly graphic death, alone in the forests
of Hokkaido. Suddenly she didn't want to sleep.
 
	The last few days had been exhausting for her.  The continual
balance: making sure the press didn't get too close to the truth, and in
those instances when it did, the challenge of cajoling, persuading, and in
some cases just outright bullying them into keeping silent.
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia's mood in their recent conversations said it all.  
Thanks to staffing problems, i.e. of the acute need for senshi, regulars, 
anyone at the front, she was the only senshi left in the diplomatic 
corps, excluding the planet senshi.  As such, there was no part of the peace 
negotiation process that Cassiopeia didn't oversee, and so when Cassiopeia 
had approached her and said that preparing a press release acknowledging 
Crystal Tokyo's surrender might be a good idea, she was inclined to believe 
it. 
 
	By coincidence, it was Cassiopeia who called at that point.  America 
nodded thanks to the patiently waiting aide for waking her up and punched 
the receive button on the desk.  "Hi, Sailor America." 
 
	"Hello, Sailor Cassiopeia.  I hope you're doing better."  A pause. 
"I don't suppose you have any good news to tell me, do you?"
 
	"Is an end to the war good enough?" 
 
	Sailor America sat straight up, her fatigue swept away like a
curtain.  "WHAT?"
 
	"Hold on.  Is this a secure line?" 
 
	Sailor America pushed two buttons in quick succession.  "It is now."
 
	"Good.  Now, you didn't hear it from me, and I trust you that no-one
else will hear this at all, but the planet senshi are going to propose to
Serenity that she abdicate."
 
	"You can't be serious!" 
 
	"I am, and they've got a point.  Is one person truly worth all this 
destruction?" 
 
	"Of course not," snorted Sailor America in reply.  "I still say the
AC wouldn't go to all this bother over one person." Not unless they're
totally off their rockers, she silently appended.  Then again, that was
quickly becoming as attractive an option as any.
 
	"And I suppose you would know the most about that," replied Sailor
Cassiopeia acidly, then instantly regretted it.  "Sorry Sailor America, but
this hasn't been easy the last couple weeks."
 
	"You don't know the half of it," America whispered.  Louder, she
continued, "I know.  But . . . do you think she will?"
 
	There was a long pause and a sharp intake of breath.  "I don't know. 
With her state . . . I really don't know.  And it's a closed meeting, too; I
won't be there."
 
	"Very interesting," murmured America.  "What I would give to be a
fly on the wall for that meeting."
 
*** 
 
	There were no flies on the walls of Her Majesty's Observation Chamber 
when the meeting began an hour later, insect control having been effectively 
perfected a long time ago.  In fact, the walls were glass for the most part.  
There was a bit of irony in that here, where Serenity could do the best job 
of maintaining the field that protected them all, was also the most 
dangerous place for her to be in: the topmost room in the palace,with only a 
patio above.  It was by no means a small room; there was quite a bit of 
space, and occasionally Serenity would hold her smaller parties here with 
her closest friends. 
 
	The room afforded a perfect view: 360 degrees of wraparound crystal
that allowed its occupants an unobstructed view of all of Crystal Tokyo. 
Sailor Uranus now stood at that window, looking down at the city below.  It
still looked untouched by the war, if you overlooked that one patch where
the Allied missile had gone astray.  It was, she knew, the heart of the
city, which when taken altogether made a very tempting package.  If she
ruled this land, it would be very hard to persuade her to give it up.  Yet,
wasn't that precisely what they needed the Neo-Queen to do?  If possible, to
get Serenity to step down?
 
	"It won't mean giving up," she said aloud, turning the heads of the
others in the room.  Sailor Mercury was there, and so were Sailors Venus,
Jupiter, Moon, and of course Endymion.  Sailor Mars was at RSN headquarters,
Sailor Neptune refused to abandon her post at Earth headquarters, Sailor
Saturn was of course in Hokkaido trying to save the island, and Sailor Pluto
was still missing and incommunicado.  Even Sailor Uranus was forced to admit
when the guardian of time returned she'd have a lot of explaining to
do.
 
	The ensuing silence was broken by the one other person there. 
"Good," said Neo-Queen Serenity.  She wore a simple white sun dress, but
there the resemblance to her name ended.  Her back was straight, but her
shoulders were taut; she smiled, but the strain was evident; her eyes spoke
of an unimaginable fatigue.  Protecting an entire city was not an easy task,
and clearly it was exacting its toll on the woman.
 
	As if that weren't enough, there were the continual looks Sailor
Mercury threw at Serenity.  In the past week Mercury had virtually abandoned
her other duties to remain at Serenity's side as her personal physician. 
Mercury insisted there was no danger of death, but it would be a close
thing.  How well could Serenity be expected to make rational decisions with
her mind and body so occupied?  She turned to Sailor Uranus.  "That is very
good, because we cannot give up."
 
	"But we need to make a concession nonetheless, Serenity." 
 
	"She's right," agreed Sailor Mars.  "They've got every advantage
except the higher moral ground, and that won't do us a damned bit of good on
the battlefield."
 
	"Think of the public, Your Majesty," added Sailor Venus, trying
another tack.  "We've got to do what's best for them.  Can we continue to
order them into battle when we haven't a chance?"
 
	"The recent Russian offer is palatable," said Sailor Mercury.  "It's
the only one so far that allows the senshi to remain in place."
 
	Serenity looked at them all, and then went back to Sailor Jupiter.  
"Do you have anything to add to this?" 
 
	Sailor Jupiter remained unmoving, arms folded, staring down at a
knothole in the dark wooden table.  She'd barely said a word since entering
the room, had barely done anything on her own initiative since her return to
Crystal Tokyo.  Had the others only known what she had thought and felt the
past couple days, they would have agreed it filled volumes.  She looked up,
and her face was blank.  You couldn't tell from it that she considered
herself to have been responsible for the single greatest military failure in
history.  "Your Majesty, we've been at this for two weeks.  We've lost a
full quarter of the senshi, and Army losses have been unbelievable.  A good
two- thirds of Hokkaido has been turned into a war zone which will take
months, if not years, to recover.  The sacrifices made by the civilian
sector have been overwhelming.
 
	"Please don't let it be in vain, Usagi.  Don't make me have to go
back to grieving families and tell them that they didn't have to die after
all.  Don't surrender now, after all we've done."
 
	Sailor Neptune spoke up; hers was the other remote connection since
Sailor Saturn was in the field.  "There is a time to fight on, and there is
a time when it's best to stand down and keep things from getting worse. 
Tell me, do you have a way to defeat the Allies in three days?  Because
three days is all I think we have, ne?"
 
	Sailor Mars drew her mouth into a slanted line.  "Three is
pessimistic.  We've got supplies to last another week, and then the pinch
from orbit will begin to get severe.  Sailor Saturn's doing an excellent job
in defense; her presence has already helped morale, as well as her . . .
methods."
 
	They all knew she referred to Sailor Saturn's stance on warfare:
show no quarter.  Some of the pictures coming back from the front were
nothing belonging in a rational universe, but it was getting the job done. 
Some just felt there had to be a better way.  Saturn was essentially
condoning the merciless execution of any Allies who happened to be in the
sights of a senshi, and sometimes the effects of unleashing a magical attack
intended for supernatural monsters upon simple human beings tended to put
one off one's lunch.  Then again, a lot of things in the past two weeks put
them off their lunches.
 
	"Yes.  Saturn can do it.  I believe in her." 
 
	"But only with the proper supplies.  Any ideas on how to get them to
her short of rendering Earth space useless?  Because that's just what'll
happen if we try now."
 
	Sailor Jupiter closed her eyes in thought.  She knew this was her
one and only chance to atone for her errors in Hokkaido.  She had to come up
with something good.  It came to her by chance.  "Yes, I have an idea." She
didn't mention how dangerous it would be; no need to worry Her Majesty. 
"I'll need some assets, though."
 
	Serenity looked at Jupiter levelly.  "You realize how much is riding
on this, do you not?"
 
	"I do.  But we won't lose.  Whatever it takes, we won't lose, Your
Majesty.  You have my word." If any of the six world leaders had seen the
expression on Jupiter's face at that point, the war might have ended right
there.
 
*** 
 
	None of the six could, however.  They were on the small
Mediterranean island of Gavdhos, fifty kilometers south of Crete.  There,
caressed by the gentle spring Mediterranean breeze, the moderates tried
desperately to hold the fragile alliance together.
 
	In the past day or so, things had soured even more between
Prathachulthorn and Ronowski.  Cabot was openly siding with Ronowski now,
and Liu with SEAA.  This left Rostov and Fayit as the unlikely moderates,
acting as go-betweens between the two sides.  Thinking back, Rostov was at a
loss as to when it had happened.  It was gradual, he decided.  Two big egos
like theirs shouldn't have been put together in the first place, and then to
allow them free rein over two basically opposing parts of the effort . . . .
 
	It was Heartbreaker that clinched it, he thought.  It had
essentially removed the need for Titan, and put the American Confederation
on a near-permanent higher footing.  Titan had the disadvantage of being
slow, unwieldy, and of course not very portable, and while Heartbreaker
didn't have nearly as much wallop, it more than made up for it in efficiency
and deliverability.  They all had to face it: after the war, the AC would
have a great advantage.  True, the others would still have their weapons,
but only the AC had the know-how to repair, replace, and make new ones.  It
didn't take a tactical genius to see the danger from there.
 
	The terrible truth was that none of the leaders had been very smart,
and the military leaders they might have listened to had been ignored.  For
awhile they had managed to overcome this, largely through their larger
numbers.  Had CT intelligence not been licking its wounds over the start of
the war, they might have noted that for all the poor morale of the Royal
Army, the morale on the other side was even worse.  They didn't know why
they were fighting, and in quite a few cases wanted to stop.  There was
little doubt in the minds of the powers that be that should the progress
stop, so would what little optimism sustained the regulars.  All in all,
Rostov had little reason to enjoy the Mediterranean breeze, but in this time
before yet another meeting, he knew he had to relax somehow.

	The young Chizawa Hsu came to sit by him on the long, low stone wall
that ringed the patio of the meeting place.  It overlooked the blue waters
of the sea, and would have made an excellent tourist spot under other
circumstances.  She wasted little time.  "You still want us to avoid firmer
ties with SEAA."
 
	Rostov sighed.  "As I've explained, we can't have any further 
disunity." 
 
	"Isn't that the entire point of our exercise?" 
 
	"You know damn well what I mean," he replied harshly.  "We both
decided that when it started looking like we'd lose, we'd bail out.  Now it
looks like we'll win, and you're trying to tear things apart!  Why?"
 
	Hsu shook her head sadly.  "Are you that blind, Mr. Rostov?  Did you
really think the alliance would hold past the conclusion?  We've got to put
ourselves in position to benefit once this is over, and-"
 
	"Do you take me as a fool?" 
 
	"No, but-" 
 
	"Then you know that I realize just what you're thinking.  But I'll
tell you one thing: we have changed the world.  There's no way we can go
back to our old patterns.  We must have either complete victory, or we must
stay and face defeat together.  To do otherwise is to doom the human race to
an eternity of Serenity's rule."
 
	Hsu looked at the older Rostov oddly.  "Sure.  I think you
overestimate them."
 
	"Oh yes, I overestimate them.  That's why the southern attack
completely failed.  That's why we need the combined armies of all the world
to stop her.  That's why we've lost a full-"
 
	"I know that!" 
 
	"Then why bring it up?  Mark my words, we cannot hope to survive a
split.  We just can't." 
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion thought it was a terrible day.  She brushed a few stray
strands of hair from her eyes.  It was cloudy and looked like rain, but
otherwise the April afternoon was unremarkable weather-wise.  That wasn't
the reason she thought it was a terrible day.
 
	The breakthrough was on the verge of being completely contained now. 
A last valiant effort by a group of crack Russian troops had failed shortly
after noon, and now they were being routed.  That definitely wasn't the
reason she thought it was a terrible day; it was perhaps the only good news
she'd received.
 
	She'd received a number of reports from Saturn's headquarters,
reports that basically said that the Allies were to be stopped at all costs. 
If that meant unleashing attacks that no right-thinking senshi would ever
inflict on another human being, so be it.  She had reluctantly sent the
orders down the line.  Sailor Orion knew that out there were three senshi
under her command, three senshi she hadn't known she had.  They'd been
trapped behind enemy lines and had hidden until the tide of battle had
turned a bit, and were now following Sailor Orion's orders.  As a direct
result of those orders, men and women were dying in ways a thousand times
worse than a gunshot wound, a hundred times worse than burning to death,
indeed even worse than having one's heart crystal shot out and destroyed. 
That, appalling as it was, wasn't the reason it was a terrible day.
 
	A small contingent of AC troops had been met and beaten just a few
kilometers away.  Only two survived: thirty-two-year-old Melissa Stanton,
and a male whose age was unknown.  All they could figure out from his melted
ID tag was that his last name ended in cy.  Stanton was alive and conscious,
and was expected to make it.  The unknown soldier probably wouldn't live
through the night.  He had, however, managed to croak out to the medics that
he needed to see Sailor Orion immediately, and then one other thing that
made Orion decide he wasn't delusional.

	He had mentioned the name Reenie.  Long ago, in one of their
admittedly infrequent discussions about Eileen's family, Eileen had
mentioned a little brother, and his cute name for her when he was a little
child.  Reenie.
 
	Orion knew that there could be only one other person who knew that
name; Eileen's parents had, according to Eileen, terrible memories.  It
could only be the brother himself, and if indeed it was, there was all the
reason needed to make this a terrible day.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion wiped a tear from her eye without realizing it and
turned from the scene of trucks being loaded with ammunition.  Going to the
infirmary, she passed the sickbeds without looking at their occupants whose
eyes firmly focused on the ceiling.  At the end of the temporary tent, she
made a turn to another tent, this one guarded by two infantrymen with lesser
injuries.  Saluting, she drew aside the flap and stepped inside, where a
half dozen Allied injured awaited treatment.  Some things hadn't changed in
the hundreds of years since the Geneva Convention, and fair treatment of
prisoners was one of them.  Then again, did the Convention cover magical
warfare?
 
	She stood over him.  He had been a direct recipient of the fiery
attack of Sailor Saiph; he was lucky to be alive.  Even so, with burns over
ninety percent of his body, one would hardly consider him overly lucky. 
Orion looked over at the doctor that attended him.  "Can he speak?"
 
	"Barely, and it'll hurt like hell for him, too.  You're sure you
need him?"
 
	She nodded.  Despite the million other things that vied for her
attention, she knew that she had to do it.  "I owe it to her," she said
simply.
 
	"Very well sir, have at him."  He stepped away, but not so far that
he'd be unable to step in if Pearcy's condition took a turn for the worse.
 
	She knelt down next to Pearcy.  "Joseph?  Joseph . . . if you can
hear me, nod your head."
 
	There was the faintest of nods. 
 
	"Good, very good.  Now Joe, this is Sailor Orion.  I'm . . . ."  Her
rehearsed speech ran out of her mind like water, and suddenly she was an
ordinary twenty-four-year-old woman in way over her head.  "I'm . . . your
sister Eileen wanted me to speak to you if we met . . . I guess it would
have been this way in any case, and . . . ." She looked at his face.  Badly
scarred, but the eyes still shone defiantly.  He wasn't going to die
quietly.  "She wanted me to tell you that she loved you, and she still does. 
Being on the opposite side from you . . . it was one of the hardest things
she'd ever had to do.
 
	"She never considered going back to America, you know.  She swore
her oaths, and she stood by them.  You can be proud." 'Yes,' thought Orion
silently, 'be proud she turned her back on her family.' She wasn't being
fair, she knew, not when she'd been by her lover's side as she'd made the
decision, but when confronted with a burned shell of a man . . . .
 
	"I figured that," rasped Joseph Pearcy.  "She never broke a promise,
never."
 
	"Yes," said Orion, her voice shaking.  She was about to say more,
but was interrupted by the call of a guard.
 
	"Sailor Orion?  Sailor Rasalhague is here to see you." 
 
	Orion turned to look at the flap, and then back at Pearcy.  "I've
got to go.  Security won't allow you to speak to her, but . . . when I see
her, are there any messages you want me to give her?"
 
	He didn't hesitate.  "Tell her to end this.  End it before we all
die." His voice died away with a rattle, and Orion looked to the doctor in
alarm.
 
	"It's okay," he reassured, "he just needs rest."  Then, in a lower
voice: "I give him two days at best."
 
	She nodded through the tears; she'd lost control more times than she
cared to remember in the past couple days, and she had little doubt it would
happen again.  Straightening her hair, Sailor Orion went to the flap. 
"Sailor Rasalhague?  What did you need me for?"
 
	The medium-height, brown-haired senshi was all business.  "I'm
relieving you.  The planet senshi want you back in Crystal Tokyo ASAP."
 
	"Why?" 
 
	Rasalhague fixed her brown eyes on Orion, her elfin face framed by
short brown locks.  "Go.  You've got someone waiting for you."
 
	With a gasp, Orion was gone. 
 
 
 
=================== 

 
Begun:  7:47 14 July 1998 
Finished: 19:46 19 July 1998
Final draft: 18:35 25 July 1998
Final edit: 19:36 24 February 2001

 
======================================== 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A pretty original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #313: Low Earth Orbit 
======================================== 
 
 
Crystal Tokyo 
11 April 3035 
 
	Sailor America waited at platform 12-R of Crystal Tokyo's central
rail station.  The station was a massive complex, much of it underground,
yet through skillful lighting it was bright and cheerful as a summer meadow.
 
	The platform wasn't crowded; this train was on official business. 
It carried couriers, critical injuries that the field doctors could no
longer help, a few lucky souls who had been ordered back to the capital for
consultation or further orders, and perhaps the grimmest cargo of all: the
fatalities.  The bodies of two senshi and ninety Royal Army regulars were in
a refrigerated car at the rear.  As the train blew its whistle and pulled
in, Sailor America tried not to look at that car.  Others may have been
hardened by the entire affair, but the brunette had not yet been exposed to
the worst of it.
 
	The train slowly rolled to a stop.  America stood on the yellow
caution strip, her high heels making a soft clicking sound as she paced back
and forth.  The doors to the three passenger cars opened, and Sailor America
found that she had the wrong car; the one she wanted was further up.  Wading
through the disembarking veterans, she didn't care.  She was here.  A tall
redheaded woman in a tight white bodice, long white gloves, green boots, and
very, very short green skirt stepped out, looked both ways, and then locked
onto America.  Their eyes met, and in that moment there was nothing more to
say.
 
*** 
 
	The brass wasted on time.  Sailor Orion was immediately whisked down
several levels to a briefing room in the basement.  By now she was
developing a profound dislike of the place.  They were early.  Without
explanation, the officer who had gotten them there asked Sailor America to
stay, and so the two sat and talked.
 
	"How do you feel?" asked Sailor America after the door had closed. 
The lighting was stark, casting cold shadows on the gray floor.
 
	"I've missed you," she said quietly. 
 
	"How-" 
 
	"The nights were the worse, you know.  I couldn't call you; I'd be
up twenty-two hours at a time without interruption, and when I got to sleep
I was so tired I couldn't think at all.  It was . . . I would have given
anything just to hold you."
 
	Sailor America instinctively hugged Sailor Orion tightly.  "That
bad?"
 
	"Twelve hundred years ago, an American general said 'war is hell.' I
think he was being overly kind."
 
	Sailor America made as if to say more, but the door opened.  In came
Sailors Jupiter and Venus, and neither looked particularly cheerful.
 
	"Sirs," said Sailors America and Orion in unison, standing. 
 
	"At ease," said Sailor Venus.  They all sat; with only four senshi
in a room designed for fifty, they all had a sense of being at a funeral.
 
	"We'll get to the point," she continued.  "If you don't already
know, our supply line to the colonies has been greatly restricted down to
fifteen percent of previous levels.  Our minesweeping efforts are proceeding
as quickly as possible, but they're still terribly slow.  This is at a time
when Sailor Saturn can assure us victory only if she has the proper
supplies." The blonde gazed levelly at Orion.  "Your orders are to proceed
into orbit, and there destroy as many mines as possible with your unique
abilities.  Once you have accomplished this, Sailor Saturn will have all she
needs to force a favorable conclusion in the north and allow us an excellent
opportunity for peace."
 
	Sailor Orion blinked in disbelief.  Sailor Venus had discussed all
this as calmly as if bringing up plans for dinner.  "Venus . . . how?"
 
	"H.M.S. Osaka is waiting at the Shikoku spaceport, or at least most
of her is.  We'd planned to get into space next year, but no matter.  Our
teams are working on her now; she should be spaceworthy by this evening. 
That will also be when you launch."
 
	Sailor Orion mentally ran through a list of ships.  H.M.S. Osaka was
the newest of the Haruna-class of ships, newer than Pleiades or even Seiza. 
This particular ship had a few modifications, such as the ability of to make
terrestrial launches and landings.  Osaka had similar armaments to Pleiades:
i.e., none.  It was still under construction, so it was unlikely that most
of the ship was yet habitable, meaning a skeleton crew.  The bridge would be
essentially identical, though, and since it was where she planned to do most
of her work, that would suffice.  She was overlooking another flaw, though. 
"Wait a minute . . . how am I supposed to pull this off?"
 
	"Orion Nebula." 
 
	The redhead blanched.  "You realize what I could do with that given
Gertie assistance?"
 
	"You'll control it, though." 
 
	"Oh, will I?  Your confidence is soothing, really." 
 
	"You will," said Sailor Venus with a knowing smile that Sailor Orion
very much wanted to hit at that point.  Damn her, this was no time for
games!
 
	"And if I can't?" 
 
	"I doubt that will happen.  You've never failed us before." 
 
	"Katsuragi II." 
 
	"A isolated incident," replied Sailor Venus lightly.  "You were
still young and inexperienced.  You've improved."
 
	"You're willing to wager a lot on your optimism, aren't you?" 
 
	Sailor Venus dropped her friendly affable act and proceeded to her 
cool imposing act.  "Your objections are noted, but this is not a matter of 
opinion.  You have been ordered to carry out the mission, and you will do 
so." 
 
	'Nothing else had made sense through all this,' thought Sailor
Orion, 'I shouldn't be surprised when something else doesn't.' "Osaka can't
fly herself."
 
	"We've already got a crew together.  Only twenty, but with enough
automated support they'll be enough.  The main problem will be mine evasion,
actually." She pulled a handlink from nowhere and pressed a button.  From
the ceiling dropped down a schematic map of Shikoku.  "Our problem is this:
to make sure the allies don't try any of their saturation crap on Osaka,
we're placing this launch under the utmost secrecy.  The Allies don't even
think the ship can fly." She grinned at this; the opposition had sprung
enough surprises on Crystal Tokyo in the past month.  Now it was the turn of
the senshi.  "This also means that we can't draw any undue attention to the
corridor of space you'll be passing through; we can't afford to give them
any hint at all.  So you'll depend a lot on your pilot, Ikkei Hayashi."
 
	"Pilot?" 
 
	"We didn't have a chance to install the main guidance computers." 
 
	Orion rolled her eyes at this.  'Typical,' she thought. 
 
	"So let me get this straight," said Sailor America, who had been
silent since the meeting began.  "You're sending her into orbit as a
half-finished ship, with no computer assistance and the barest crew, thought
a minefield that's already destroyed one ship, so she can perform an attack
she already admits she can't control?"
 
	"It's just what they won't expect," replied Sailor Venus.  Sailor
America wasn't sure if the senshi of love was joking or serious.
 
	"When do I leave?" asked Sailor Orion simply. 
 
	"WHAT?" roared Sailor America.  "Jen, you can't do this!"  What if
you die?
 
	"Eileen," said Sailor Orion quietly, disregarding protocol in front
of the two planet senshi, "I met your brother in Hokkaido.  I promised him
I'd give you this message, so I will.  'Stop the war.'" A tear fell silently
from Orion's cheek, in spite of her belief she had no more tears left to
cry.  "How can I listen to that and *not* go?"
 
	Sailor America gasped at that, in the thousand revelations her lover
had knowingly and unknowingly made.  Then her mouth tightened.  There could
be only one response to this.  "Fine.  You'll go, and so will I."
 
	"Good," interjected Sailor Jupiter as she spoke for the first time,
"because that's just what your orders are."
 
	Given that it was precisely what she had wanted, America wondered why 
she was so dismayed by the news.  "Why?" 
 
	Sailor Jupiter's face and voice were under complete control, but her
eyes twinkled with a hidden joke.  "You need the experience of being a first
officer."
 
	"I'm needed *here*." 
 
	"You'll be a valuable backup in the event Sailor Orion is
incapacitated."
 
	"A dozen others could do a better job!"
 
	"And I pulled every string I could to make sure you two stayed
together."
 
	This was a reason Sailor America hadn't anticipated.  "Er . . . ."
She looked to Sailor Venus for some kind of verification, but she looked to
be ignoring the exchange.
 
	Sailor Jupiter gazed at Sailor Orion.  "You remember, don't you? 
When I spoke with you about good-byes?  I think the only thing better than
being able to say good-bye to a loved one is not having to say good-bye at
all.  To be beside her to the very end.  You see, there's a very real chance
that you won't come back, even if the mission is successful.  And having
been in your position more times than even *you* would know, Orion, I think
that neither of you would want to die alone." Jupiter spoke with a quiet,
certain conviction that the two younger senshi found impossible to ignore.

	The room was silent for a bit, the quiet only being interrupted once
when a commander was paged on the PA system.  Sailors Orion and America
simply stared at each other, telling far more with their eyes than words
could ever say.
 
	Sailor Venus finally broke the interlude with a polite cough. 
"Osaka departs at 22:00.  It's now 08:50.  Get ready."
 
*** 
 
	The Shikoku spaceport was also a shipyard of sorts; below nearly a
kilometer of offices, storage bays, terminals, hangars, and of course
bedrock, there were two full-sized bays, each of which could contain almost
any ship in the Royal Star Navy.  If by chance one couldn't, the two could
be connected, and there was always pocketspace.  Granted, the real starships
rarely lingered long here, but such was the design of the place.  Fail-safe
after fail-safe.  Bay A contained H.M.S. Osaka.  Bay B contained the
accumulated detritus and leftovers from the frantic twenty-four hour effort
to make her spaceworthy: an effort whose success would only be determined in
the next hour.
 
	The two senshi walked into the chamber.  There sat Osaka, already
being loaded onto the launch gantry.  To save time, most preflight checks
had been dispensed with, and those that hadn't would be performed later.  It
would take five minutes to move the ship into launch position; that would
have to be enough.  It would take less than five seconds to travel the nine
hundred seventy meters through the launch tunnels and up through the exit
point, at the foot of Mount Imano.  That was what worried Sailor Orion, that
and a million other things.
 
	"Launch in one hour.  Section D and F chiefs please report to 
engineering sector," sounded the PA.
 
	It was chaos, and yet above it all serenely sat Osaka.  She had the
same basic design as Orion's old ship Pleiades; they were in the same class
after all.  But Osaka was a poor man's version.  The communications masts
and dishes hadn't yet been attached, and never would now, since they'd be
ripped off during launch.  The same went for the docking gantries.  All the
usual protrusions that made Pleiades look for all the world like a slightly
flattened torpedo with whiskers were gone.  There were other things missing
as well.  Most of the living quarters were unfinished, their workers
reassigned elsewhere.  Vital life-support systems had only been completed in
the two areas people needed them in: engineering and the bridge.  The AI
wasn't there, neither were most of the computer systems.  The toilets didn't
work.  The list went on and on.
 
	Sailor Orion knew this all, and yet said nothing.  What mattered was
that the engines would get the ship into orbit.  With luck the pilot would
keep them alive once they were there.  The fusion generators would provide
the power for her to get off one ever-so-crucial shot.  And her promise to
her love would be fulfilled.
 
	Sailor America saw things in a slightly different way. "We're going
to fly in *that*?"
 
	Sailor Orion sweatdropped. 
 
	"Don't worry, sirs," said Hiroshi Daitokuji, both senior design
engineer and the man responsible for squeezing three months of work into a
few scant hours.  With his eyes, he implored them to overlook the
half-finished exterior, where the techs had only finished painting
two-thirds of the ship's name.  "I'd trust her with my life."
 
	"It's more than your life that's at stake," replied Sailor Orion
halfheartedly.
 
	"Fifty-five minutes to launch.  Alpha and Iota blocks moving into
position."
 
	"Shall we board?" asked Daitokuji. 
 
*** 
 
	They reached the bridge.  The journey had been a nightmare; walking
through naked corridors, the workings of the ship laid open for all to see. 
It was like surgery on the ship.
 
	Things improved slightly on the bridge.  Sailor Orion almost thought
it was the bridge of Pleiades; the design and color scheme was the same,
after all.  The same non-skid floor coating, the same support bars that
still got in the way, eluding the notice of design improvement teams, the
computer consoles and seats in the same positions.  True, most of them were
darkened, and most of the wall panels had been removed to allow access to
wires and electronics, but it was a command, and no matter what happened
next Sailor Orion had been in command before.
 
	"Nice place," said Sailor America, waving her last ounce of bravado
in a flare of defiance.
 
	"Forty minutes to launch.  Work group nine, discontinue work 
*immediately*." 
 
	"Okay, Sailor America," said Sailor Orion, "you wanted to go into
space with me.  Here's your chance."
 
*** 
 
	In Earth headquarters, things had calmed down slightly, if for no
other reason than those who were shaken easily had already been removed over
time.  Darwinism worked its wonders, and only the strong of heart and mind
were still here, performing their tasks with a cool professionalism that
would seem inhuman to an outsider.  Sailor Neptune looked down over it all
with her own professionalism.  Pity it had taken a war to win such
discipline.  "Report on Osaka?"
 
	"She'll launch in ten minutes, sir." 
 
	"Hm."  She looked at a schematic display of Shikoku airspace.  Still
quiet.  In order to insure the safe launch of Osaka, the Army was launching
a counterattack of its own just before departure.  It wouldn't work,
*couldn't* work because of supply shortages, but the hope was that it would 
draw enough Allied fire that the scant laser emplacements of the southern
islands wouldn't be noticed.  Otherwise Osaka would be obliterated.  "Hm,"
she repeated.  "Patch me in to Sailor Saturn, please."
 
	A few seconds passed, and then Saturn's picture was on one of the
screens, her face flushed and alive as it rarely was.  It was easy to guess
what she had been up to, even if the few drops of blood on her Glaive
weren't enough of a clue.  "Yes?" 
 
	"Sailor Saturn," said Neptune warmly, "how are you?" 
 
	"Things are improving," replied Saturn.  "I'll feel better once I
know I've got enough supplies to . . . ." She trailed off.  "Did you feel
that?"
 
	"Yes . . . ."  Before anyone could ask what they were talking about,
a shout came up from the floor of the chamber.
 
	"Massive energy wave, point of origin Hokkaido, unable to localize
further . . . kami-sama, it's huge!"
 
	The two planet senshi knew what had caused it, even before
confirmation came.

	"Pattern indicates super senshi power levels."  Suddenly the world
was just a little bit different.
 
*** 
 
	Mount Imano was a quiet mountain.  Overlooking the coastal city of
Tosashimizu, it wasn't quite high enough to have snow year-round.  This year
had a been a particularly cold winter, though, and there were a few patches
of snow left at the summit as night fell over the scene.  Below it, in a
small valley with a road running through its middle, there was a thin
black-and-yellow caution stripe.  It bounced once and was still.  Then,
birds began to fly up from the trees, panicking at the sounds of alert
sirens and klaxons.  They were completely out of place in such a sylvan
place, but at the same time a decidedly large patch of ground was moving,
and bouncing.  Then it collapsed, and a deer disappeared out of sight.
 
*** 
 
	A kilometer below, similar klaxons were ringing.  In just an hour
preparations had been made, and now H.M.S. Osaka sat on the launch platform,
aimed at a slight angle towards a gaping hole with flashing danger lights
around it.  Such a launch was very rare, mainly because of the sheer
impracticability of it all.
 
	On the bridge, there was little going on.  Only a half dozen people 
were there, and two of them were senshi.  All sat in their seats, strapped 
down as tightly as possible.  Seeing as how they were about to be shot 
through a very large equivalent of a linear particle accelerator, any 
protection against such forces was to be welcomed. 
 
	Sailor Orion sat in the captain's chair, America at her side.  As
the ship rocked back and forth slightly, Orion got curious.  "Rear view?"
 
	On one of the status screens, a camera feed from the launch bay
appeared.  The area behind Osaka was empty of everything; after all, when
the main engines fired it would get rather hot in there.  The room was
covered in reflective material to keep the walls from melting.  As if
echoing her thoughts, the call came down from the PA.  "Launch in twenty
seconds.  All launch doors have completed cycling.  Main doors opening now. 
Fifteen seconds to launch.  Civil defense patrols now on red alert."
 
	A map of the complex appeared on a screen.  It showed the slightly
curved path Osaka would follow before exiting.  A shallow rise at first, and
then a sudden sharp turn to exit at a forty-five degree angle.  The route
was outlined in green: no obstructions to tear a ship to pieces.  "Ten
seconds to launch.  All personnel are clear.  Systems read green.  Path
clear."
 
	The intercom from engineering sounded.  "Igniting main engines." 
 
	The fusion reactors lit up.  They'd been in a warm-up state for
three hours, but now they were fully unleashed, bathing the launch bay in
flames.  The fire suppression systems kicked in, keeping the worst of the
flames from harming the ship.
 
	"Seven seconds.  Severing umbilicals." 
 
	Sailor Orion tried to remain cool.  She'd been through a countdown
like this almost six years ago.  At least this time she knew where she was
going, who she was up against, and what she had to do.
 
	Sailor America had none of these advantages.  It was all she could do 
to refrain from screaming as the countdown reached five seconds, and then 
four, and- 
 
	"Three seconds.  Magnetic induction at maximum, beginning acceleration 
sequence."  The ship rocked slightly; only a few clamps were holding her in 
place.  Then:  "Two.  One.  Zero.  Clamps disengaged." 
 
	A giant pressed down on Sailor America's body with a force seven
times that of Earth's pull.
 
*** 
 
	Outside, above, and away, the local wildlife continued to look
curiously at the hole that had opened up in the ground.  It had been making
strange noises for the past minute, but now it was death.  H.M.S. Osaka flew
out of its cage like the proverbial bat out of hell and into the starry
night.  The rarest sight in the world: a full-fledged starship rocketing
through the atmosphere on a column of smoke and fire.  It would take months
to return the area to normal, and by then it wouldn't just be Mount Imano
that was in need of healing.
 
	On the bridge, Sailor America was terrified.  Previous shuttle
launches were nothing like this; despite her lighter than normal weight,
Osaka still needed a lot of thrust, especially considering her insertion
pattern.  As a result she was still accelerating, and it hurt.  The senshi
would have complained, but the roar of air rushing past the hull made it
terribly loud inside, and her headset had flown off in the first bout of
acceleration.  She had made the mistake of reaching up her hand to adjust
it and nearly had her arm taken off for her troubles.  Now she was afraid
to turn her head and see how Sailor Orion was doing.

***
 
	Finally, after an eternity of three minutes, the brute acceleration
ceased.  Now it was the pilot's turn.  Koto Segawa was a twenty-year-old
fighter ace, so to speak.  The only reason he hadn't done much more to date
was because the skies over Japan were too dangerous to fly.  Now he was
flying a very large ship through the most dangerous obstacle course he had
ever faced.  Flying by the seat of his pants, he relied more on exterior
cameras and passive radar than instruments, especially as he didn't trust
whatever job had been done on them beforehand.  The ship replied nimbly to
his commands; the hurried refit had focused on making Osaka as maneuverable
as possible, and it had been a success; she moved as smoothly as anything
Koto had ever flown.  It was almost like driving a car, though few cars
moved at the speeds Osaka was.
 
	The ship shuddered once, then twice.  "We're hit," said a tech
mildly.  Moderate damage to sectors H and I."
 
	Despite herself, Orion breathed a sigh of relief.  "Those are
empty." It was still damage, though, and with every hit Osaka took,
maneuvering and evading would be more difficult, to say nothing of getting
back home.
 
	In less than a minute, they had cleared the minefield.  Koto was
exhausted.  Too many close calls had taken their toll, and too many direct
hits: only their speed kept damage to a minimum.  Too many split-second
decisions; one man couldn't be expected to do it all and survive.  Wearily
he slid over to allow the backup pilot the helm.  Nori Yunokawa was hardly
the pilot Koto was, but she planned to do her best.  They were in orbit, and
that was what counted, for better or for worse.  Now it was Sailor Orion's
turn.
 
*** 
 
	"Oh kami-sama," groaned Sailor America.  She had forgotten how much
she disliked free fall.  Now, in orbit, with no artificial gravity, she was
remembering with full force.
 
	"Not now, America," warned Sailor Orion.  "We don't have time to get
you used to null gravity, so you'll just have to make shift for yourself."
 
	Sailor America nodded greenly and tried to stay calm, and more
importantly, not to be nauseous.  This wasn't helped at all by the ship
swerving to avoid a stray mine.  "I'm gonna be sick," she gasped, ducking
into the unfinished captain's office.
 
	Sailor Orion glanced over, as there was no door as of yet, and saw
that at least her lover had at least managed to retrieve a bag from
pocketspace.  One less thing to worry about.  "Bring us around, bearing
zero-four-five mark zero-zero-zero," she said.  It felt strange to be giving
orders on a ship again, especially an imperfect ship with darkened lighting. 
Even now Engineering was reporting lower than expected power levels.  "Now
all stop."
 
	"All stop, aye sir."  Koto wiped a bit of sweat from his bow. 
 
	"Engineering, bridge.  Power status?" 
 
	"How much do you need?" 
 
	Orion pulled out a handlink and began tapping away.  She still
hadn't learned much math.  "Ninety percent power for ten seconds.  Can you
give me that?"
 
	There was a long pause.  "I can't make any promises, sir.  I
recommend putting life support onto emergency batteries until you're
finished."
 
	"Do it, then.  How long will the batteries last?" 
 
	"Thirty minutes, and then local dedicated reserves kick in.  No
great danger; we'll survive long enough for help to arrive . . . assuming
there's a ship left.  The-"
 
	"Noted.  I'm doing it in thirty seconds."  She didn't need to say
more, nor did she want to.  They all knew what she was about to do hadn't
been tried before, and there was no guarantee of success.  At worst she
could cause a shockwave which would blow away much of Earth's atmosphere. 
At best, the shockwave would just detonate a large enough portion of the
mines to blow the war wide open for Japan, and probably take out Osaka in
the process.  Both seemed equally likely at this point. 
 
	Sailor Orion sat in the captain's chair and stared at the main
status screen.  It displayed a visual of Earth, shining a bright blue in the
blackness of the vacuum.  Taking a deep breath, she flipped the cover of the
armrest and found the switch she hadn't used in years.  She pushed a button,
and the safety was off.
 
	"Bridge, engineering.  Gertie is at 90% power, ready to disperse at 
your command." 
 
	"Thank you, engineering.  Stand by." 
 
	She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again.  "It's
time.  Orion Nebula . . . ." She felt the touch of a hand in her own, looked
over, and found the brown eyes of Sailor America.
 
	Her lover smiled despite the zero gravity, despite the hopelessness
of the situation.  "I love you," she whispered.
 
	Sailor Orion stared back.  There was no way she would let her die.  None. 
With her eyes she communicated what came next.
 
	Sailor America grinned and put her other hand on top of Sailor
Orion's Gertie hand.  "American Blazing . . . ." 
 
	Together they looked at the screen, where hydrogen swirled about in
a thin, dissolute nebula, just waiting for the proper spark.
 
	"EAGLE!" 
 
*** 
 
	A twentieth century physicist would have said that what happened
next was impossible.
 
	He or she would have said that hydrogen or any other matter simply
doesn't come from nowhere.  But it did.
 
	He or she would have said that such hydrogen, having such a light
mass, would have a correspondingly higher molecular speed, and would have
dispersed immediately.  But it didn't.
 
	He or she would have said that such hydrogen, while being
explosively flammable on Earth, couldn't possibly burn in space as there was
no oxygen to conduct oxidation.  When he or she was confronted with a giant
sixty-meter-wingspan eagle swooping out of nowhere and diving into the midst
of the cloud, igniting the entire mininebula with magical flames and
creating a fireworks display that rivalled some nuclear explosions, he or
she would have to shake his or her head, go back to the pencil and paper,
and rewrite the laws of science.  Science was after all only an
approximation, and that approximation was still grappling with the
resurgence of magic.  It had yet to reckon with the power of love.
 
*** 
 
	In two different rooms, on two different sides of the planet, there
were two stories.  Beneath Crystal Tokyo, exultation at a theory finally
brought to fruition, a stroke of luck that could once and for all throw the
war in favor of the sailor senshi, or more properly the super sailor senshi.
 
	Beneath Ad Dawhah, on the Qatar peninsula of the larger Saudi
peninsula, frustration and despair at a victory that was now on the verge of
being snatched away, and an alliance that had already collapsed.

================================== 
Begun: 7:28  20 July 1998 
Finished: 18:56 26 July 1998 
Final draft: 23:48 1 August 1998
Final edit: 12:11 26 February 2001
==================================

================================= 
Episode #314: Inflection Point[s] 
================================= 
 
Ad Dawhah, Qatar, Arab Union 
13 April 3035 
 
	In the year 1969, the world of Major League Baseball was dominated
by the Baltimore Orioles.  Their superstars, like the two Robinsons (Brooks
and Frank), Jim Palmer, and others, ruled over the diamond, winning pennants
left and right.  1969 saw the rise of a new team, though: the New York Mets. 
Just a few years before they had amazed their manager by finding new ways to
lose.  This time they made it all the way to the World Series, stunning a
Baltimore team accustomed to uninterrupted success and going on to win the
world championship in seven games.
 
	The Orioles, the Mets, and MLB were long gone by the time the six
world leaders met in the large Middle Eastern city of Ad Dawhah to discuss
the latest developments, but the mood there was stunningly similar to that
in the Orioles clubhouse so long ago: complete and utter dejection.  It was
like a funeral, and to some of them it might as well have been one.
 
	"Tell me, Mina," said Prathachulthorn lightly, "how does it feel to
have single-handedly lost the war for us?"
 
	"Now wait just a-" 
 
	"David!" exclaimed Cabot.  "I can handle this."  Ronowski
reluctantly returned to his seat.  "Now, why do you think *I've* lost this
war for you?  Last I checked we still held most of Hokkaido!  Another day
and we'll be ready to make a push for Sapporo, and then-"
 
	"Ground matters have changed considerably," noted Prathachulthorn
acidly.  "But we'll get to that in a bit.  More importantly, that silly
stunt you pulled in orbit accomplished nothing but strengthen Crystal
Tokyo's resolve."
 
	"How were we to know they were hiding a starship under an island?"
retorted Cabot.  "That was an intelligence failure."
 
	"Nonetheless, the mines that cost you so much were easily
dispatched."
 
	"And?"  She tried not to think of what her blunder would do to her
confederation's economy.  "What about these new developments on the ground? 
They've got heart busters too?"
 
	"Yesterday two senshi went super." 
 
	Prathachulthorn was greeted with a blank stare.  "Huh?" asked Fayit.
 
	He sighed while Ronowski cut in.  "In other words, two of the
post-Black Moon senshi, who we thought were on a permanently lower power
level than the planet senshi who are the core of their defense, have proven
us wrong.  They can now be considered to be a threat comparable to that
posed by the planet senshi.  Not quite at the same level, but close."
 
	The room fell quiet to consider this.  "You mean," said Liu, "that
we've got two new planet senshi to deal with?"
 
	"Effectively, yes." 
 
	Another pause.  Then Prathachulthorn threw his hands up in the air. 
"That's it, then.  It's over."
 
	"No it isn't-" 
 
	"It is, and you damn well know it, Ronowski!  I said all along that
if I feel we're going to lose, I'm cutting my losses and making a separate
peace, and I meant it!
 
	"Are you blind to what's going on?  This has been the closest of
battles from the beginning!  Now you tell me that they've got two more
powerful senshi, and God only knows how many more on the way, and you can
sit there and tell me that you're going to hang in here?  You're mad!"
 
	Ronowski scowled.  "What of your war debt?  Do you think Crystal
Tokyo will pay it out of the kindness of its heart?"
 
	"No, I don't think so.  But I also know all too well what will
happen if we fight to a conclusion."
 
	Ronowski fell silent.  For once he had nothing to say.  How could he
convince a hopeless man?  "So you're set, then.  All the money, all the
lives this war has cost you, and you're willing to throw it all away."
 
	"We entered their country, despoiled their land, killed their
finest, destroyed their dreams.  Do you think they'll show us a single scrap
of mercy if they beat us on the battlefield?  Better to withdraw now, I say. 
Perhaps if I'm lucky SEAA will remain autonomous."
 
	"Coward," said Ronowski, not with malice or bitterness: just a
casual, matter-of-fact tone.
 
	"A coward who made a mistake, and will atone for it as best he can."
He stood.  "In twenty minutes I'll give the order for my troops to pull
back.  There will be no need for any of you to cover our retreat.  Ladies
and gentlemen, while I truly regret my exit under these circumstances, I
hope you understand that I am only acting in the best interests of my
constituents.  While I am convinced that any further trek down this road is
a foolish exercise and doomed to failure, I still wish you all God speed."
With a pang of regret he slouched a bit, as if the formal tone of this voice
had taken something out of him.  "Goodbye," he concluded, walking out for
the last time.
 
	"Well," said Ronowski into the dead-silent room, "let's put all our
cards on the table, shall we?  All ashore who's going ashore."
 
*** 
 
	"It's a miracle," said Serenity over and over again.  "But I knew it 
was destined." 
 
	Before Neo-Queen Serenity stood Sailor Uranus.  She wore a grin that
said maybe, just maybe, two weeks of grief and suffering might end on a high
note after all.
 
	"Unbelievable," agreed Sailor Mercury.  She and Sailor Jupiter were
the others in the chamber atop the Crystal Palace.  "So many theories of
senshi abilities will have to be rewritten . . . not that the equations
didn't say it was possible, but the improbability factors-"
 
	Sailor Uranus cut off Mercury before she could begin rattling off
variables and equations.  "One dozen super sailor senshi," said Uranus
simply, euclidating what Sailor Mercury had been about to put in a more
obtuse fashion.  "Ten more in just a few hours, almost on par with us,
power-wise.  Faster, with even more enhanced abilities.  One of them alone
could defend a town, with a bit of help.  Three could *take* a town!"
 
	"It was so simple," gushed Sailor Mercury.  "Given the stresses put
upon all senshi in these times, it was simply a matter of time before they
broke out.  Granted, we had a bit of help back when we did it, but-"
 
	"Can we expect more?" asked Uranus. 
 
	"Almost certainly, and with more . . . ."  She didn't have to
finish.  They all knew what enhanced senshi could do both for Crystal
Tokyo's morale and firepower.
 
	"Sailor Saturn is making arrangements for the supers to be placed in
trouble spots.  She says already the regulars are more cheerful, fighting
harder.  And the Allies are terrified."
 
	"Excellent," said Serenity.  "Now all we need is-" 
 
	"Your Majesty!"  Sailor Cassiopeia burst into the room, ecstactic,
forgetting to bow in her excitement.  "It's President Prathachulthorn!  He's
surrendering!"
 
*** 
 
	It was a slow, rhythmic murmur in her dream, like a tuneless lullaby
a mother sings to soothe her child to sleep.  It puzzled her at first, how
it could be so calming when it was really a . . . "Decompression warning?"
she whispered to herself, and then she remembered.  The mad dash into orbit,
the desperate gamble, and the final triumph of true love.  Of course, there
was also the shockwave.
 
	Sailor Orion slowly struggled to her feet, careful not to accelerate
too fast or else fly off in the null gravity.  She felt a slight pressure on
her right hand and knew without looking it was her lover's.  Glancing
around, she wasn't really surprised at what she saw.  The bridge was
illuminated only by the dim red emergency lights, making everyone look like
trauma patients.  The computers looked to be completely dead; only static
showed on the screens.
 
	"Everyone all right?" called Sailor Orion.  The bridge crew
responses trickled in.  Some cuts, bruises, one ankle that was either
twisted or sprained.  Considering the sheer force of the shockwave through
which they had passed, the redhead was only thankful things hadn't been
worse.
 
	"Can't raise engineering," called out an ensign.  "No communications 
at all, sir."  Next to him, a tech gratefully turned off the various alert 
sirens.
 
	Sailor Orion was reluctant to let go of Sailor America now.  Still
holding her hand, she gestured to the door with her free hand.  "Akai, go
down there and check on their status."
 
	"Aye, sir."  The backup pilot floated towards the door, putting on
her pressure suit as she went.  There was no telling what conditions might
be like on her way.
 
	Sailor Orion glanced around yet again.  Was there anything she'd
forgotten?  "Oh, are we sending a distress call?"
 
	"Can't say, sir," said the same ensign as before.  Nuriko Kasawagi
was still fiddling with gear, trying to get anything to work.  Even if they
could only listen, it would be better than their current condition, cut off
from the outside world.  "We might be, but the systems are so fried it's too
hard to tell."
 
	"I'm taking a look outside," Still gripping Sailor America's hand,
she went to the captain's office.  There, behind some support beams that had
been jostled loose at some point, was a good-sized porthole which still had
the manufacturer's sticker attached.  She and America floated over to it,
putting their heads together and peering outside.
 
	Above was the Earth, serene and blue, looking untouched by the
madness of the last several weeks.  By squinting, Sailor America could pick
out her southern namesake; apparently the ship had been blasted into a
different, more southerly orbit.  As for space, it glittered.  The sunlight
reflected from Earth shone and coruscated off billions of tiny granules of
metal, each polished to brightness by the heat of the explosion. 
"Beautiful," breathed America.  "Something so beautiful from something so
terrible."
 
	Sailor Orion smiled down at her lover.  "Poetic, are we?" 
 
	Sailor America giggled.  "Yep." 
 
	"Well . . . I think we did it.  How about you?" 
 
	"Yeah," said Sailor America, a great weariness in her voice.  "We
did it."
 
	Sailor Orion looked sadly into Sailor America's eyes.  The redhead
tried so hard to shield her lover from danger; this was the closest the
brunette had come to death.  It was never easy, the first time.  "Look!" She
pointed to a white speck that was moving faster than most.
 
	"Help is here." 
 
*** 
 
	Einstein's theory of relativity states among other things that time
will tend to dilate relative to a stationary observer as speed increases.  A
layman would have another definition, however, which would state that the
more events occur at once, the shorter a given time period will seem to the
senses.  Sailor Cassiopeia thought this to be particularly true as she stood
in Earth headquarters, a place she had never dared to visit before.  Even
now she was on a diplomatic mission to ensure that Prathachulthorn was being
honest.

	It appeared that he was.  "Message repeats.  This is President Sean
O. Prathachulthorn of the Southeast Asian Alliance.  Effective immediately,
I am ordering SEAA forces to withdraw unilaterally from the front in
Hokkaido.  I have been most explicit to my generals that no further shots
are to be fired by my troops.  You may therefore wish to take care before
firing on my men and women.
 
	"Furthermore, I, my government, and my military, accept full
responsibility for any and all damage due to SEAA assets to Her Majesty's
property, her land, and her people.  We are willing to accept whatever
penalties Her Majesty sees fit to mete out, and most humbly throw ourselves
on Her Majesty's mercy.
 
	"Message repeats.  This . . . ." 
 
	"Well?" asked Sailor Neptune, leaning with her back to the railing
with a map of Kyushu in the background framing her sea-green hair.
 
	"I believe him," said Sailor Cassiopeia, more confident than she had
been in a very long time.  "He realizes that he's lost; that-" she pointed
to a status screen of Earth orbit, now safe once more for transit, "-was the
turning point.  For him to go on now would just be stupid."
 
	"It was stupid to attack us in the first place." 
 
	"They nearly beat us, Sailor Neptune.  Don't be so overconfident,
that's what got us into this mess."
 
	Just a month ago Sailor Neptune would have been outraged at such a
remark, especially coming from one of the junior senshi.  The rules had
changed, though.  Now, with the post-Black Moon senshi closer than ever to
the rank and power of the originals, theirs would no longer be relationship
of teachers and students.  Now they were partners, almost equals.
 
	She felt as well the bitterness in Cassiopeia's voice.  The planet
senshi had sacrificed nothing in this war compared to the junior senshi. 
Nearly a quarter of their number had died, tallies that only the super
transformations kept from being a complete loss.  Even overlooking that,
there were the regulars: the mere mortals who had died by the thousands. 
Who knew what anger they held?  Sailor Neptune overlooked this for the
moment.  She had to.  With a shake of her head, she returned to reality. 
"Thanks for the diplomatic perspective, but this is a military matter.  You
may go now."
 
	"The hell it's military.  This is a matter for the peacemakers, not
the peacekeepers!"
 
	Sailor Neptune sighed heavily.  "So what would you have me do? 
Order a cease-fire only on SEAA?  We couldn't-"
 
	"FINE!" said Sailor Cassiopeia, the fury evident in her voice.  The
best chance for peace since the damn thing started, and Sailor Neptune
couldn't get it through her hidebound mind that now was the time to act! 
Emboldened by recent events, she went so far as to glare at Sailor Neptune. 
"I'm going over your head." She turned to a nearby tech.  "Get me Sailor
Saturn."
 
	"Sir, I-" 
 
	"Sailor Cassiopeia, if-" 
 
	"I *said*, get me Sailor Saturn.  That's an order!" 
 
	The crow's nest fell silent.  Never before had there been such a
blatant defiance of a planet senshi, not since the Second Sailor Wars. 
Everyone was still, wondering what Sailor Neptune's reaction would be.  The
communications officer swallowed hard.  "Y-yes, contacting Sapporo now." He
went to work, knowing that Neptune could overrule at any time.

	She didn't. 
 
	"Saturn's in the field, sir.  I can try to raise her-" 
 
	"Do it."  Sailor Cassiopeia stood legs apart, arms folded on her
chest.  Sailor Neptune thought to herself that she would make a fine
commander some day.  After a minute, the main screen flickered, and Sailor
Saturn's face appeared.  The camera was apparently very close; her face
filled the screen, and a few beads of sweat were visible.
 
	"Good afternoon, Sailor Cassiopeia.  What can I do for you?"  In the
background could be heard screaming; Saturn dismissed it with a wave. 
"We've got them on the run, don't worry."
 
	"Sailor Saturn, have you heard the latest word from Prathachulthorn?" 
 
	The black-haired senshi frowned.  "No, I haven't.  Nothing bad, I
hope?"
 
	What nonchalance.  "They're pulling back.  All of Southeast Asia's
troops are ceasing fire, and I feel that we must honor this."
 
	"With a withdrawal?" 
 
	"With a cease-fire.  I very strongly recommend that we hold back on
any attacks against SEAA people."
 
	"Easier said than done," countered Saturn.  "Allied uniforms are very 
nearly standardized." 
 
	"But we *must* try!  It's our chance to end this!" 
 
	Sailor Saturn pursed her lips in contemplation.  "True, perhaps, but
at the same time it seems to me they're ready to surrender whether or not we
shoot at them."
 
	"Where's the honor in killing someone unwilling to fight back?" 
 
	Sailor Saturn seemed about to reply, but thought better of it. 
Instead, she said, "I see." She thought.  It had been her decision to do
what Sailor Jupiter had been unwilling to do: turn the full magical might of
the senshi not on youma or daimons, but on ordinary human beings.  She knew,
perhaps more than anyone, what 'overkill' really meant.  At the same time,
there was something else the messiah of silence had learned from a
blonde-haired dumpling head many many years ago: forgiveness.  "Does
Sailor Neptune have any suggestions?"
 
	"You know how I feel," came the simple reply. 
 
	"Then we let them withdraw.  It's time to end this." 
 
*** 
 
	President David Ronowski shook his head, trying to shake off the
accumulated jet lag of the past month.  He and those who remained in the
conflict were in a conference room in Vancouver-3.  It was a shorter list:
SEAA had left, and so had China and the Arab Union.  The only two who
remained fervently loyal were AC and EU, with Russia on the verge of bailing
out as well.
 
	They hadn't lost yet.  The maps showed it, the statistics showed it. 
The Allies still had the upper hand, but it was a narrow race and Crystal
Tokyo was gaining.  Even now, the military leaders were proposing the
unthinkable.
 
	"No.  We just won't do it." 
 
	"Titan would guarantee success," cautioned one of the generals. 
 
	Ronowski remained adamant.  "Not until all else is lost.  The risk
is too great."
 
	"Can we still do it?" asked Rostov. 
 
	"Of course.  SEAA is leaving Titan in place until a final peace
agreement is hammered out, mainly to make sure there are no complications.
It will be a very close call, I think, but if we wanted to, given the
authorization codes we could initiate the sequence in ten minutes."
 
	"Who has the codes?" asked the Russian immediately. 
 
	"I do, and you, and Mina.  The other three have them as well.  Any
one of us can start it by ourselves, though.  Insecure, but we had to guard
against five of the six being killed.  That seemed very likely at one point.
 
	"But that's moot.  We cannot do it, not yet." 
 
	"Why?" asked Cabot.  "Suddenly afraid of civilian casualties?" 
 
	"And what if I am?" he retorted.
 
	"It would be surprising, is all."  She smiled.  "Especially
considering the lack of regard you've given life so far during this mess."
 
	"I have my reasons.  But rest assured, if necessary I would vote for
Titan.  But we'll have to see what the senshi will offer us."
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Cassiopeia fought some jet lag of her own as her plane
touched down in Moscow under ruthless security.  With her were Sailors Mars
and Uranus: the warmongers, as she thought of them.  Their objective was to
hammer out a final peace agreement, or else.  In this case, however, 'or
else' could very well mean anything.  They were to meet with the leaders of
the three remaining warring confederations.  If all went well, a treaty
could be signed in Honolulu as early as tomorrow or as late as next week. 
Otherwise . . . Crystal Tokyo now had a secure line of supply.  It could
fight for as long as necessary.
 
	Within an hour the peace negotiations had begun.  Now it was a
matter of waiting.
 
*** 
 
	They looked at each other across the table.  On one side, Sailor
Mars.  On the other, President Ronowski.  They had met face to face once,
seemingly an eternity ago but in reality just a few months prior.  Quite a
bit had changed since then.
 
	Ronowski's eyes were filled with belligerence.  "Shall we get to the 
point?" 
 
	"No," replied Sailor Cassiopeia, just as sweet as Ronowski wasn't. 
"We have some other matters to attend to first.  This is a preliminary
meeting only.  If all goes well, a formal surrender will be accepted by us
at a place and time of our choosing.  Otherwise, we go back to our posts and
fight this to a conclusion."
 
	"I'm all for that.  We still want Serenity out of there!"
 
	"That isn't going to happen, Ronowski."  Sailor Cassiopeia cocked
her head to the side, but she wasn't angry.  "Would you like to know why?"
 
	"Do we have to-" 
 
	"Yes you do, Cabot-san," growled Uranus. 
 
	"You see," said Sailor Mars, only slightly calmer, "you can't win. 
We thought you understood that when SEAA and others left.  Here," she said,
giving him a handlink, "I'll do something unorthodox.  These are our latest
supply figures." She knew she was taking a huge gamble by showing them to
him, but if it worked . . . .  "As you can see, with our supply lines once
again open, we'll have no problems keeping up with our munitions.
 
	"There's a few other things you may want to read as well.  Here are 
the latest position reports.  Your forces have been on the defensive ever 
since the SEAA withdrawal.  Your men and women are demoralized-" 
 
	"They are not!  How can you-" 
 
	"We can see it.  For the sake of the kami, we don't have to do any 
more than ask our front-line people!  They feel that in a week they could 
take back Hokkaido.  I'll be honest.  It's probably closer to two weeks, 
perhaps three if you get your acts together.  But it's inevitable." 
 
	"Nothing is ever inevitable." 
 
	"Then your own military advisors haven't already told you that it's
over?"
 
	It was like a blow to the stomach.  Certainly, the military had
informed him that continuing the war was madness, but they had left him just
enough what-ifs to convince him there was still a chance.  "I don't think
it's any of your business as to what their assessment was."
 
	Sailor Uranus pressed the attack.  "It wasn't good, was it?" 
 
	"I'd rather-"

	"They said that short of some wild gamble, it was hopeless, didn't 
they?"

	"Dammit-"

	"Ronowski-san, if you have a scrap of sense left in you, you see
that you've lost.  Carrying on will still mean senseless deaths and needless
expenditures, and you can't honestly tell me you'd like that!  Don't you
see?  You've lost.  We're giving you a chance to come out of this without
losing it all.  Don't throw it away."

	Her voice had gone persuasive, and her logic was irresistable. 
Ronowski pondered over it all.  Could she be right?  Could this all be just
a colossal, misguided mistake, and could she truly be offering a way out of
it?  Suddenly, Ronowski was a very very tired man.  "We're going to
Honolulu." 'And I'm going to die.'
 
*** 
 
	In a cabin in a ship being towed in space, two lovers embraced. 
 
================================== 
Begun: 7:10 27 July 1998 
Finished: 22:22 30 July 1998 
Final Draft: 20:12 2 August 1998
Final Edit: 13:12 26 February 2001
==================================
======================================== 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion 
A pretty original fanfic by LeVar Bouyer 
Episode #315: Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi 
======================================== 
 
 
20 April 3035 
Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaiian Islands, American Confederation 
 
	There was an expectant air in Honolulu that day, a feeling that
weeks of war might be coming to a conclusion.  One could feel it in the
smiles of the soldiers, the guarded optimism of the diplomats.  The tension
simply wasn't there, and Sailor Mars saw it as a good sign.  Then again, the
final peace agreement that lay before them might have something to do with
it as well.
 
	"So," said Mars, "final recap.  Ronowski-san, you will pay to the
Crystal Tokyo treasury a sum equal to that required to account for
two-thirds the cost of recovery, including but not limited to repair of
infrastructure, resettlement of those displaced from Hokkaido, expenses
incurred by the Royal Army, replacement of all lost Royal Sea and Royal Star
Navy ships, and pain and suffering reimbursement." She paused; having a
father who had started out long ago as a lawyer helped at times, especially
at rattling off long legal documents.
 
	"In addition, you will admit to and accept full responsibility for
initiating and provoking an unwarranted attack upon Crystal Tokyo.  You will
apologize for your actions and present yourself before a World Court for
trial on the charges of crimes against humanity, specifically for
unwarranted declaration of war, use of cruel and inhumane weapons,
specifically the heart buster, and conspiring to overthrow an undisputed
government.
 
	"Furthermore, you will resign from your position as President
effective immediately, and hold a democratic election at the earliest
possible convenience, whose impartiality and fairness will be overseen by
Crystal Tokyo officials.  In return, the American Confederation will retain
its military, and its generals will not be executed.  In addition," she
continued with a very slight smirk, "we will not raze the entire continent
to the ground.
 
	"This agreement will also apply to the Russian Confederation and the
European Union.  Are there any questions?"
 
	It was basically the surrender agreed to over the past several days. 
In retrospect, Ronowski had to admit that the senshi were shrewd negotiators
as well as fighters.  The entire proceeding had been bent to give Crystal
Tokyo the advantage and, he had to concede, to give them the psychological
edge as well.  Again and again they had hammered to the point that he had no
remaining confidence.  There simply wasn't any choice, though; best to take
what he had coming.  "No questions."
 
*** 
 
	The following morning, at 08:55 local time on the twenty-first day
of April, while Crystal Tokyo awoke to face another day of war, President
David Ronowski, President Alexander Rostov, and Prime Minister Wilhemina
Cabot sat down at one side of a long wooden table.  On the other side of the
table were Sailors Mars, Uranus, Cassiopeia, and Moon.  Around them were
assorted commanders, diplomats, and dignitaries, assembled on a promontory
overlooking Pearl Harbor.  U.S.S. Arizona had rusted away long ago, but
there was no escaping the history that permeated the place.  A war had begun
there, long ago.  Now it was time for another one to end.
 
	Between the two sides was a piece of paper. 
 
	Sailor Moon put down the ordinary ball-point pen.  She was signing
on behalf of Her Majesty.  However, she had chosen her senshi uniform to
sign the agreement in.  Her pink ponytails waved slightly in the morning
breeze.  "Here.  It's your turn." 
 
	Rostov looked back between his two co-conspirators, with a slight
accusing look at Ronowski, and a longer look at Cabot.  Then, his face taut,
he picked up the pen and signed.  "There.  May Russia have mercy on me for
bringing them to the brink of destruction." Even Sailor Uranus recoiled from
the bitterness Rostov had made clear.

	'No-one is as hard a critic as themselves,' thought Sailor Moon. 
"Um . . . Ronowski-san?" asked Moon.
 
	The charismatic man had lost his charisma; the optimistic leader had 
lost his optimism, and David Ronowski had no doubts that he would soon lose 
his leadership as well.  He would be lucky to escape assassination, and if 
he wasn't overthrown, his political enemies would make hash out of him.  He 
had relied on the military before to maintain order, but with the army all 
but destroyed, and with those who remained openly demanding a change of 
government, he couldn't continue to rely on them.  All he had was tradition. 
 
	He sighed.  Once he had boasted that his family had a history of
losing, all the way back to Grandpa Bruckner in the twentieth.  He had
boasted that he and he alone broke that tradition.  Now it seemed that
traditions really could turn out to be hard to break after all.  Trembling,
he picked up the pen and signed his name.  He couldn't bring himself to
ratify the moment with any words.
 
	"And Cabot-san?" 
 
	Mina Cabot seemed casual about the whole deal.  As if merely signing
a check, she dashed off her name in flowing letters.  "Que sera sera," she
said lightly.
 
	"Hm?" asked Ronowski with a monosyllable.  He knew her too well to 
believe that she'd be so unbothered by this.  The senshi looked on, equally 
interested. 
 
	"Life is a game of chance.  One day you win, the next you lose.  We 
lost." 
 
	"There are those who say chance has no part at all," said Sailor 
Uranus mildly.  "There is fate." 
 
	"Fate?"  Cabot laughed, apparently uncaring of the fact that she had
just signed the war out of existence, and her political future as well. 
"Fate is an imp.  *Fortune* is the empress of the world." She sat back and
smiled.  "You've won, O mighty senshi.  Enjoy your victory."
 
	"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Sailor Mars, but the
woman from Buckinghamshire would say no more.
 
	"Very well," said Sailor Moon.  She stood, and in a single
undetectable yet obvious moment she was Princess Usagi Small Lady Tsukino,
second most powerful person in the world, heir to a responsibility she now
felt she could shoulder.  "By the power vested in me by my mother, Neo-Queen
Serenity, and the trust of her subjects, the people of the Crystal
Millennium, I accept your surrender." She nodded to Sailors Mars and Uranus. 
"Order a cease-fire." Both were only too happy to acquiesce.
 
*** 
 
	The word went out at once.  First to stop were the constant missile
attacks, then the offensives.  It really was rather easy in practice, after
all; most of the Allies were already demoralized by the desertion of half
their number, and the Crystal Tokyo troops just wanted the fighting and
destruction to stop.  In a day, the war of 3035 was over.
 
	It took a bit longer for news to reach the erstwhile crew of H.M.S. 
Osaka.  They were on a light cruiser, awaiting the next transport back to 
Earth.  Osaka was being towed to the Mars space yards, where engineers would 
try to repair the damage and complete the ship. 
 
	There was a knock on the door.  A mop of unruly red hair popped out
from under the covers.  Jen had pulled every string she knew to get this
room and its large bed, and she wasn't ashamed at all, considering the
benefits.  "Who is it?" asked a sleepy voice.  Another head, this one with
brown hair, came up from under the covers.
 
	"Don't know," replied Jen.  "Just a moment," she called out.  Giving
Eileen a quick kiss on the lips, she rolled out of bed and pulled on a
T-shirt and some running shorts.  Running a hand through her hair to regain
some semblance of composure, she went to the door.
 
	"Yes?" she asked, opening it. 
 
	"Sir," said the ensign, a young woman fresh out of the academy named
Omitsu Hosokawa.  She looked at Jen's attire and the figure moving about
beneath the covers of the bed, drawing the obvious conclusion.  She kept her
composure, though.  Given the recent news from home, it seemed that Omitsu
would live to see her boyfriend on Earth again after all, and in that case a
bit of dalliance on the part of the senshi would be forgiven.  "This just
came in." She handed Captain Sakachi a small folded message form. Jen took
the piece of paper and read through it.
 
	"It can't be," she whispered. 
 
	"It's for real," said Omitsu, bursting with joy.  "They've declared
an end to the war.  It's over."
 
	Jen slouched her shoulders in indescribable relief.  "Finally," she
sighed.  For all her studies of how wars began, were fought, and ended, she
had never looked into the feelings of the survivors--for she felt that she
had survived, not won, the conflict.  She knew also that their work wasn't
done.  Crystal Tokyo and Japan would have to put themselves back together
again.  At the least, however, they would have that chance.  The angel's
thesis hadn't been as cruel as it could have been.
 
*** 
 
	In the streets of Crystal Tokyo, there were no victory parades, no
celebrations.  There was only a tremendous relief that the madness was over.
 
	It was now the twenty-second of April.  Sailors Orion and America
had returned to Earth, landing at the Shikoku spaceport in a decidedly less
dramatic and desperate fashion than they had left.  Their reception hadn't
been very large at all: just the usual shuttle recovery crews who happened
to be in a better mood than usual.
 
	"Welcome back," said Captain Tsuyoshi, who was officially in command
of the spaceport.  He was a big, burly, affable man who seemed to enjoy
life.  "Well done."
 
	"Thanks," said Sailor Orion, bowing as did her lover.  "Just doing
our jobs," she said, waving off the praise.  "At least we came back. 
Eighty-two senshi couldn't say the same."
 
	Tsuyoshi's face darkened.  "Eighty-three.  Sailor Zubenelgenubi died
this morning from wounds she suffered last Tuesday."
 
	Sailor Orion choked back an urge to scream in frustration.  The
fighting had stopped, but the dying continued.  There were still many, many
seriously wounded people on both sides.  She forced herself to look on the
positive side.  "How about the disarmament?"
 
	"It's going rather smoothly."  The three began walked from the
disembarkation gates to the elevator that would take them to the train
station.  Sailors Orion and America would be returning to Crystal Tokyo,
where Serenity was to address the nation for the first time since the
Selenite crisis in 3029, six years ago.  Those events seemed to Sailor Orion
like a fairy tale: something that had happened to someone else, something
that she had only heard about secondhand.  They turned a corner and entered
a much smaller corridor.  "As per the agreements, all heart buster devices
are being confiscated and destroyed.  Sailor Mercury is to go to the AC next
week to make sure all records of how to make and used the damned things are
destroyed, and to find out how they learned to make the things.  The Allies
*still* won't admit to stealing any secrets.
 
	"Prisoners of war are being exchanged next week.  There weren't a
whole lot on either side, actually." He fell silent for a bit.  At least one
sailor, Wezea, had gone out in a suicide attack rather than be captured, and
that basically summed up the fighting spirits of both sides.  Finally they
arrived at the elevator.  "Well, sailor senshi, I'll see you later."
 
	"Bye," replied Sailor Orion with a bow.  The doors closed on his
grateful face.
 
*** 
 
	Neo-Queen Serenity stepped onto her front porch. 
 
	The balcony of the Crystal Palace was rarely used.  It was mainly a
holdover from the old Palace of the Moon Kingdom.  It was made from fine
marble, white with small veins of darker material running through it.  More
notably, while the floor of the balcony, which sat two stories above the
ground and overlooked the main entrance into the Palace, was bare except for
a carpet in winter, the railings were covered with climbing roses, a
peculiar breed with thorns that would prick neither senshi nor royalty.
 
	Thus, Serenity fearlessly gripped the rails and looked down.  The
courtyard of the Palace was full of people here to see the queen give her
remarks.  The first couple rows of spectators consisted of sailor senshi;
the very first row being super sailor senshi.  At the left end of the third
row stood Sailors Orion and America; their train had been held up while
another train had priority, and so they were a couple minutes late.
 
	The balcony itself was fairly empty; only Serenity, her husband, and
her daughter stood there.  Out of sight behind them in the shadows were
the other planet senshi, except for Sailor Pluto.
 
	Serenity still seemed a bit tired from protecting the city; up close
one could see the lines of fatigue that the ginzuishou hadn't erased.  'Or,'
thought Mercury, 'that it couldn't, not after Serenity had stretched herself
to the limit.' There was so much that had yet to be defined regarding the
ginzuishou's abilities.
 
	Serenity spoke.  "My friends, we now stand at the dawn of a new era. 
With the end of this foolish war, we need no longer debate the sovereignty
of Crystal Tokyo.  Never again shall such needless conflict arrive, for it
has been established that no nation anywhere has the right or the obligation
to interfere with another law-abiding government.  For too long we have
lived under the assumption that there are two parts to the world: those of
the Crystal Millennium and those who are not.  Now, our toughest challenge
lies in learning to live together.  In learning to forgive." 
 
	She looked down at the roses, the crowd silent before her.  "Some
would say this is impossible.  After all, terrible things have been done on
both sides." She looked up, eyes blazing.  "But let us not forget that
some of our greatest victories are not won by guns or by magic or by
superior firepower.  They are won by love.
 
	"Three thousand years ago, one of the greatest philosophers
proclaimed that the greatest commandment is to love thy neighbor, and to
love your enemy.  Now I say to you that we must do the same: that we must
love our enemies, and in so doing remove the necessity of labeling anyone as
our enemy.  Thank you, and good day."
 
*** 
 
	That evening, the most powerful woman in the world stood on another
balcony, this one far higher and affording a view of the Pacific.  Serenity
leaned on the roseless banister, more tired that she had ever felt in her
life.  She looked up, and a shooting star streaked across the black night. 
She yawned.
 
	"You spoke well," said a quiet voice behind her. 
 
	Serenity turned, and she could not hide her surprise at who stood 
there, back lit by the light from inside.  "Sailor Pluto!" 
 
	"Good evening," she replied, bowing.  "It's been a long time." 
 
	"Indeed."  By now Serenity was once more serene.  "I assume you have
a good reason for your absence the past half-year?"
 
	"Yes." 
 
	"Then let us hear it." 
 
	Sailor Pluto didn't look taken aback at all.  "Your Majesty, have
you ever thought, I mean *really* thought, about my job?"
 
	"To preserve the time stream and protect it from any alterations, no
matter what the reason."
 
	"Very good," replied Sailor Pluto with a smile, shifting the Time
Staff from one hand to the other.  "You paid attention." The smile vanished. 
"Now suppose I were to tell you the heart buster made its return
because of a deliberate negligence on my part?"
 
	Neo-Queen Serenity stood very still.  "Is that something you think
you are likely to say?"
 
	Sailor Pluto looked at her monarch with an overwhelming expression
of sadness.  Sometimes even having just a vague idea of the future was too
terrible to live with.  How much more painful would it be when she broke the
news?  "Allow me to explain something.  Do you recall the Second Sailor
Wars?"
 
	"How could I forget?" 
 
	"So you remember its conclusion." 
 
	"Yes." 
 
	"But it wasn't truly a conclusion, was it?  The story continued back
into the twentieth century."
 
	Serenity's eyes clouded with the thousand year old memory.  "Yes,
there was more."
 
	"H.M.S. Ursa Minor disappeared deep into geologic time.  H.M.S. Ursa
Major crashed into a deep sea trench and was recovered several decades ago
by the North American Confederation.  From that wreck, the NAC, and
eventually its allies, discovered and utilized the secrets of the heart
buster gun."
 
	There was a long pause.  "And you allowed this?" 
 
	"I understand what I did, perhaps better than you ever could. 
Before you judge me . . . and you *will* judge me . . . perhaps you should
know something else.  I don't expect you to understand the true workings of
what I'm about to say.  I really don't think it would even be possible for
you to do so, not without living as long as I have.  I simply ask that you
hear me out."
 
	"When have I ever done otherwise?" asked Serenity wearily. 
 
	"Never," came the reply.  "So.  I permitted this tampering of time
to proceed because the alternatives were unacceptable."
 
	"Unacceptable?" 
 
	"Put simply, I decided the consequences of the time tampering were
preferable to the consequences of no tampering."
 
	"But . . . you can't do that!" 
 
	"I did." 
 
	Serenity reeled.  It was one of Sailor Pluto's most steadfast rules:
never ever manipulate time to change the outcome of events, no matter what
the reason, and never permit anyone else to do so either.  To permit
otherwise would be to open a Pandora's box of exceptions and special cases. 
What could be so important to make Sailor Pluto break her sacrosanct rule? 
"Is it me?  Did you do this to save me?"
 
	"I did it for many reasons." 
 
	"In other words, yes." 
 
	"If Ursa Major had not been recovered, the war would have gone on
further.  The Allies, driven to desperation after repeated failures to break
through the line, and without being punished by a single strong backbreaking
attack such as the one Orion and America spearheaded, would have . . . taken
certain measures.  The . . . remaining senshi, with nothing to lose, would
have retaliated, with repercussions they could not have been aware of, for
reasons you cannot know.  Then, after half the land surface of Earth was
covered with radioactive glass, and three-quarters of humanity was dead,
Sailor Saturn, as senior remaining senshi, would have been forced to
eliminate what remained of Earth . . . out of mercy to those who survived."
 
	"So you say that this . . . this utter madness is the best of all 
futures?" 
 
	"It allowed the maximum balance of simplicity and minimal temporal
interference, and saved the most lives in the long fun."
 
	"Really." 
 
	Sailor Pluto shrugged.  "I didn't expect you to forgive me.  I
don't.  In fact, if you were to order my execution it would be perfectly
understandable.  Unwise, but understandable."
 
	"Sailor Pluto," said Serenity, the pain in her voice evident, "if I
ever proceeded to that point, I would be unworthy to wear this crown."
 
	The senshi opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her
mind in midstream.  Instead, she hummed a soft melody to herself and stopped
abruptly.  She tapped her staff on the floor twice, and the air shimmered
slightly.  "It's not over yet, Your Majesty.  Please step inside the
doorway.  It will be safest." 
 
*** 
 
	<<ACK RECV DET ODR 22:42:56 JST 13:42:56 GMT AUTH OTA98 ATBYD TYPE
RED OMEGA.  INIT TITAN.>>
 
*** 
 
	By now they thought of it as their hill, overlooking the Bay.  The
two sat on the grass, watching the tide roll in.  "Funny, isn't it?" asked
Eileen. "How it takes almost the complete loss of everything you love in
order to make things better."
 
	"Better?" 
 
	"The allies have disbanded, the weapons are back in storage, the war
is over.  All it took was near-annihilation."
 
	"It could have been worse," replied Jen, the history doctorate
shining through.  "We could have lost."
 
	Eileen gestured north towards Hokkaido.  "With victories like these, 
who needs losses?  How could things get worse?" 
 
	Jen prepared to reply with a lecture on Pyrrhic victories.  She
couldn't follow through on it, though, for at that point the sea jumped, and
the earth shook as it had never shaken before.
 
	Never ask how things could get worse.  They have an unnerving
tendancy to demonstrate precisely how, in the worst possible way.

================================== 
Begun: 7:25 31 July 1998 
Finished: 12:03 8 August 1998 
Final draft: 9:36 23 August 1998
Final edit: 15:33 26 February 2001

 
================================ 
Episode #316: Fly Me to the Moon 
================================ 
 
23 April 3035
Kanto Plain, on the former site of the city of Crystal Tokyo 

	The helicopter slowly lifted off, heavy under its large payload of
injured.  Sailors Orion and America had spent most of the night with this
particular rescue unit, and now as dawn broke over the landscape they could
see more clearly what had happened to their home.

	The devestation was total: not a building was left untouched.  A
full nine-tenths of the city had been completely leveled, and much of what
had survived had fallen to the ensuing fire and tsunami.  Perhaps most
painful of all was that the Crystal Palace, shining symbol of Neo-Queen
Serenity, lay in ruins.
 
	"My God," said Orion at length, saddened beyond belief.  For a
fleeting second, she thought she would be better off dead.
 
	"Yeah," replied America somberly.
 
	Most of coastal Japan looked like this.  The bombs set by the Allied
Forces had gone off spontaneously, without any warning whatsover.  No-one
would ever know which lunatic had decided to detonate them days after the
truce had been signed ending the war.  It could have been Cabot or Ronowski
or Rostov, or the other three leaders for that matter.  It could have been
their subordinates.  It could have been anyone on Cabot's staff; in the
aftermath would come word of a major security leak in her office.  The list
went on: the bottom line was that there were far too many suspects.  For all
it mattered it could have been some random fanatic who hit a lucky code: the
results were the same.
 
	The bombs had lain in wait as part of Project Titan, near the
subduction zone, the place where the Pacific plate slid under the Japan
plate.  After the truce, the Allied leaders had been relieved that the plan
wasn't necessary . . . outwardly, at least.  Psychological profiles were
already being drawn up on the few potential suspects.  It did seem a bit
suspicious in retrospect that none of the Allies had seen fit to notify
Crystal Tokyo of Titan until after the fact.  Whoever it was that found the
activation codes, he or she put them to not so good use.  The result was the
single greatest release of seismic energy ever recorded.  Two dozen
thermonuclear bombs, each with yields in the megaton range, had gone off at
once, setting off the biggest earthquake in human history.
 
	The results had to be seen to be believed.  First the ground shock,
then the resultant fires, and then most terribly the tsunami which Sailors
Orion and America had escaped only by happening to be on high ground, along
with a few thousand others.
 
	Sailor Orion frowned, the first of many.  'Such destruction,' she
thought. 'Nothing is worth this, not in a rational universe.  Perhaps it
isn't so rational after all.  In that case, it would be perfectly acceptable
to go mad.'

	It would take a year of therapy to defeat such thoughts, but that
would come later.  For now, the helicopter skimmed over broken buildings. 
This was the lucky area; the tsunami hadn't penetrated very far inland due
to the natural landscaping of the city, and so all this particular suburb
had dealt with was the fire and quake.  The former had been tough; much of
the district was burned.  It was also the neighborhood in which Sailor Orion
had grown up.  She had already seen to one important detail; her parents
were safe and sound, even if their home was destroyed.

	"Where will they go?" asked Sailor America as she pointed to a small
group of survivors making their way east on foot.

 	"Refugee camp four, I'd think," replied Sailor Orion, pulling a
handlink from nowhere.  With the city's nonessential AIs out of commission,
and the remaining essential ones working overtime on logistics and related
problems, her handlink had to work alone.  It took three seconds longer than
usual for an answer to come up.  "Yes, four.  Only a couple kilometers,
they'll make it easily." She put out of her mind the millions who hadn't
made it easily, all those who had died in the city, those along the east
coast of Japan, and those along the rest of the Pacific Rim who had also
perished.  Vancouver-3 had survived, but now was surrounded by floodwaters.

	Sailor Orion leaned out the window slightly, the wind ripping at her
skirt and bows.  Peering down, she could just make out a small figure.  Her
fuku marked her as a sailor senshi, and her shoulder pads as a super, yet at
the same time the color patterns didn't match any of the planet senshi. 
Therefore, it had to be one of the newer super senshi, specifically Sailor
Hyades.  She wondered what Hyades was thinking.

***

	"Screw it all," muttered Sailor Hyades.  She looked up at the sky,
where another helicopter was racing off to some other destination.  She
glanced back down at her boots glumly.

	When she had become a super sailor senshi, it had surprised her as
much as it had surprised anyone.  She fully expected to die then, with
Allied missiles landing all around, her command virtually annihilated, and
cut off from home.

	"I wasn't at all sure what was going on then," said Sailor Hyades to
the figure beside her.  "You ever been electrocuted?"

	"No," replied the figure in a disdainful male voice.

	"Okay, okay, just asking."  She puffed a sigh.  "Anyway, that's what
it felt like.  No warning, just this shock through my entire body."

	"Did it hurt?"

	"Damn right!"  Sailor Hyades had no compunctions about swearing. 
"Felt like I was going to die . . . then again, that was just what I
expected.  Then everything went white, and when I came back to reality,
things were . . . different."

	The figure pondered this.  "No warning, then, and just a feeling of
difference afterwards?"

	"Yes.  But the most noticeable feeling was responsibility."

	"Hm?"

	"Responsibility."  Sailor Hyades looked down at her white-gloved
hands.  "Before I even knew that my power had been multiplied, I knew that I
had far more commitments.  We do, you know.  From now on, we super senshi
are going to be the first sent to trouble areas, the first on the line, the
first to be put at risk."

	"That bothers you?"

	"It scares me like nothing ever has."

	The figure looked off in the distance for a bit.  An abandoned
building looked about to come down, and as they watched it did, crumbling in
a cloud of dust.  Sailor Hyades twirled a strand of purplish-blue hair.  "I
wonder if the planet senshi felt like this, back when they broke out."

	The figure held back a chuckle.  "Not hardly."  The figure's voice 
took on a wistful air.  "They were young then, and even after nearly two 
years of being senshi I don't think they realized what had truly happened.  
Do you think Sailor Saturn knew she was able to destroy the world?  Do you 
think Sailor Mercury knew she could flood Tokyo if she had wanted to?"

	"She could?"

	"Yes, although she didn't realize it for a few centuries."  Artemis
took a breath before continuing.  The cat had somehow been appointed to
guide this particular senshi, as she was one of the very first of the new
supers.  As the wunderkind of the thirty-first century, they would need all
the help they could get.  "The point is that they didn't really know what
had happened, only they could do a better job of defeating lemures.  You, on
the other hand, are in a far better position to deal with it.  So what shall
you do?"

	Sailor Hyades sighed, her mind unconsciously echoing a predecessor. 
To the normal Sui, good-bye.  "Save the world.  What else did you expect?"

*** 
 
	Neo-Queen Serenity sat in a green tent.  She had insisted upon it;
her subjects were for the most part living in camps like this while those
few buildings that remained were checked to see if they could hold more
people.  She would not elevate herself above them, not now when her people
needed to unite more than ever.  Her home had been destroyed as well, after
all; only a bit of an assist from Sailor Pluto had kept her and her little
part of the Palace intact.
 
	"I failed."  It wasn't something Serenity said often: she wasn't sure 
she had ever said it at all.  But it was certainly apt now. 
 
	"Serenity . . . don't go on a guilt trip now," warned Sailor Mars. 
Her face was smudged from rescue efforts; she had gone the past day on
willpower alone.  The two were the only ones in the tent; Endymion and the
other senshi were out overseeing the recovery.

	"I have every reason to.  If I had surrendered-"

	"If you'd surrendered, you'd be dead, and don't deny it.  Not even
you could buy the rigmarole from the Allies that they just wanted you to
abdicate.  They wanted you dead, and they would have stopped at nothing to
accomplish that."

	"And what if they had?" retorted Serenity.  "Would it not have been 
better if I had died, if so many others would not?"

	Sailor Mars bowed her head, holding in the tears.  "Serenity, a
world without you isn't worth living in!  When will you see that?" She
grasped for words.  "You've got something in you . . . a spark, a flame that
makes everyone around you that much happier, that much more alive.  That
flame is worth dying for, Serenity-sama.  Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing
this uniform."

	Serenity sighed.  "So it is this argument again?"  Sailor Mars
managed a wry grin and nodded, and the queen smiled faintly.  "Somehow you
make me happy when I think all is lost, in a way that . . . ." She trailed
off, and when her voice came back, it was all business.  "I have work to do,
now.  I think I'll have to give another speech.  It won't be as good as the
last one . . .  but it's necessary."
 
	Sailor Mars gaped.  She couldn't remember the last time Serenity had
used so many contractions in one sentence, and Serenity seemed to notice
this.  "There are some changes coming."
 
*** 
 
	The queen took the podium, her hands shaking slightly for the first
time in centuries.  Behind her stood all the planet senshi including Sailor
Pluto, whose face was filled with sadness.  Serenity knew they were the most important words she would say in her 
life, and she'd thought about them long and hard.  It didn't make them a bit 
easier to say, though. 

	She looked the crowd of survivors in the eyes.  They'd gathered
here, in front of the remains of the Palace, much as some of them had
gathered the previous day and an eternity ago.  "People of Crystal Tokyo,
citizens of Japan, members of the human race: over the past several months,
this planet and its people have been put through the sorest trial we have
ever faced.  This war, the War of 3035, has resulted in hundreds of
thousands dead, millions wounded, and through this latest tragedy, an entire
city destroyed.
 
	"Through it all, you the people of Crystal Tokyo have persevered to
a degree that has not been seen before in history.  For this I thank you."
 
	She looked down at her hands for a moment, then looked back up. 
"Yet in the final analysis, I have failed you." She plowed on through the
cries of denial; the crowd of survivors wouldn't hear of her taking the
blame.  "I have failed you, and while the past must remain the past, I can
do my best to repair the future.
 
	"Crystal Tokyo is no more.  I do not see how my recreating it will
be worth the time or energy, and I honestly do not know if I have the power
to do so.  Perhaps this is not the best place to rebuild." She managed a wry
smile despite the tears now streaming down her face.
 
	"For rebuild we must, and rebuild we shall.  But not on Earth."
Behind her, the row of sailor senshi gasped, with a single exception: Sailor
Mars simply nodded.  Somehow, she'd known this was coming. "Not on Earth.  I
think recent events have shown that Earth isn't exactly rolling out the
welcome mat." Few there recognized it for what it was: Her Majesty's first
use of a contraction in public since she was a girl named Usagi Tsukino. 
Later on, historians would say that it was in that instant, and only that
instant, that she first made the decision that so overshadowed everything
else that day.
 
	"I hereby announce that in one week, all Crystal Tokyo government 
services will be moved to our bases on the Moon.  I myself will move to the 
old palace of the Moon Kingdom.  All who wish to accompany me may do so." 
 
	Sailor Jupiter turned to Sailor Mars and murmured, "You saw this
coming?"
 
	"Not until now," she lied.
 
	"Plans will be made for the restoration of the Japanese islands to
their original, pristine condition.  In fifty years, there will be no sign
that we were ever here, and the confederations of Earth may do with the
territory as they wish.  In the meantime, we will not stop on the Moon.  I
hereby declare it a major goal of my Navy to seek out and find a new home
for the Moon Kingdom.  I have ruled these islands and these people for a
thousand years, and perhaps it is time to give someone else a try.  Perhaps
the Allies should be given what they wanted so dearly.
 
	"Therefore, I abdicate the throne as Neo-Queen of Crystal Tokyo, and
leave my successor and rightful heir, Princess Usagi Small Lady Serenity, as
the new Queen, effective immediately.  I have every confidence that she will
do her best to implement my plans as already outlined, and that she will do
a far better job at governing and protecting you than I have.
 
	"I have . . . I have one last thing to say," she continued, plowing
through the disapproval and shock.  "In this long time, you have supported
me to a degree unmatched in human history.  I again wish to . . . to thank
you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you've done, and for those
who did everything up to and including the final sacrifice, all for your
nation.  Be proud." Through the tears, she managed a smile.  "Transfer will
begin tomorrow.  See you on the Moon."
 
*** 

	Queen Serenity II stood, startled.  It seemed totally impossible
that this could be happening so soon!  This wasn't supposed to happen now,
she was supposed to gain the throne after hundreds more years.  Granted,
with a chronological age of over nine hundred and a physical and mental age
in the mid-twenties, one could say that she was overdue.  At the same time
she felt an inescapable feeling of rightness.  This was the time, this was
the place.  Neither chance nor fate but a queer combination of the two had
brought her to the stage.

	Nervously, she went to the podium and blinked under the gaze of the
crowd.  The former Queen sat off to the side now, resting and ceding the
show.  Technically the pink-haired Queen held all the power now.  All she
needed to do was to accept it.  There was still a choice, though.  If she
didn't want to be Queen, in theory that meant that the throne reverted to
the next-in-line: Endymion.  It seemed terribly unlikely that her father
would accept, though; he wasn't cut out to rule an empire, but to stay by
his wife.  She cleared her throat.

	"Good afternoon.  I am Queen Serenity II.  You may not know me well. 
In the past few hundreds of years I've been keeping a low profile, but
things are different now, I suppose.  I think my mother has already summed
things up as best she can.  In fact, I have little more to add, other than
to say . . . ."

	She trailed off.  Just what did she want to say?  'Hi, I'm your new
queen, enjoy my reign,' simply wasn't viable.  Neither was simply walking
away; she wasn't that type.

	-What should I say?-

	-Say what comes naturally,- came a voice.

	-And you are?- she asked dubiously.

	-I'm you.  I'm the voice that keeps you up at night, thinking about
how to run a nation.  I'm the voice that soothes you after you've made the
tough decisions.  I am, in short, your conscience.-

	-And you're always this concise?-

	-I can be.-

	-Good enough.-  It would be a tough road ahead, and Serenity II
decided that she needed all the help she could get, even if it was just a
fragment of her ego, and even if it was something more.

	She looked up at the crowd that hung on her every word.  "It's a new
day.  Let's make the most of it." She smiled, and it was a smile that,
difficult a feat as it was to achieve, outshone the smile of her mother.

***

	Late-afternoon on the day after Crystal Tokyo died. 
 
	It seemed irrelevant to Sailor America to hold a press conference as
ordered by the higher-ups.  If the media, or what remained of it, wanted any
information about what had happened, they had to do nothing more than wander
around.  There was more than enough suffering: no need for her to serve it
up for them.
 
	The winds blew briskly around the makeshift podium, though; the tent
she and thirty assorted press personnel were under had no sides.  'The wind
and the sky still remember,' she thought.  'They remember what was done to
us.' Now, she had to explain once again that Serenity remembered as well,
and was taking her people away to make sure they never had to face such a
thing again.  Halfway through the conference, she quit. 
 
	"Sailor America, if-" 
 
	"That's it."  She dropped the handlink which had all her notes on
it, and it clattered to the ground.  "There's no point.  See ya." She walked
out, ignoring the uproar she caused.  Passing through a restricted area
marked with yellow tape and thick ropes, she came to a sandy slope.  After
awhile she managed to pay enough attention to realize that it was a beach;
she hadn't known her tent was so close to the sea.
 
	She made her way to the Pacific, her high heels sinking only slightly 
into the mud left from the tsunami.  Idly kicking aside some seaweed, she 
came to a tidal pool.  A small fish wriggled around in it.  She crouched 
down to inspect it more closely, unwilling to sink her knees into the mud. 
 
	"Carp," she said softly.  A genetically engineered variety of carp,
actually, left over from a rather regrettable period in the 2400s where
genetic manipulation was en vogue.  The Japanese name for it was koi, she
knew, but another kanji reading for koi was love.  She had always prided
herself on the kanji she had worked so hard to learn.

	She picked up the fish, her body insulated from its cold sliminess by 
the glove of her right hand.  Straightening and standing, she looked out to 
sea, wound up, and threw the wriggling fish back into the ocean as hard as 
she could.  It landed forty meters away with a satisfying splash. 
 
	"Why did I do that?" she asked herself, barely a whisper.  She
turned around to look at the assorted broken buildings of Crystal Tokyo,
then back out to the sea.  "Was it love?  Do I love life so much that I'd
pity just one fish out of millions, to give it another chance?  Or can
anyone, anywhere, ever love again?  How can I love after something like
this?  How can I bear to crawl into bed with Jen and enjoy myself when so
many people have died so needlessly, so pointlessly?  How can I love when
all I stand for proves to be worth nothing at all?"
 
	She took off her tiara.  "Damned lot of good you've done me," she
snarled.  She reared back and made to toss it into the sea as well.
 
	"I wouldn't do that."  She stopped and slowly turned.  There stood a
familiar figure. "Hi, Jen," said Sailor America listlessly, not
acknowledging the sailor fuku her lover wore.
 
	"Hello."  Sailor Orion didn't move any closer.  "Your staff is
worried about you."
 
	"A quarter of my so-called staff is dead." 
 
	"The ones that are alive are still worried." 
 
	Sailor America replaced her tiara on her forehead.  "So they've sent
you to fetch me?"
 
	"Actually," said Sailor Orion, poking at some seaweed with her boot,
"they wanted me to stay away.  Said you needed some time alone."
 
	"Maybe they were right." 
 
	"I know you better than that."  She drew closer in the late-afternoon 
light.  "You're shaken up, aren't you?" 
 
	Sailor America didn't reply for a moment, but simply turned back to
look at the Pacific.  "I never saw a body until today.  I've seen corpses at
funerals, but there's a difference between a corpse and a body.  How can we
call ourselves defenders of love and justice if we can't defend against
something like this?  Sailor Pluto calls herself one, and she allows herself
to stand by and *let* this happen, all in the name of some lofty goal or
better good?" She turned back, and her face was marked by a single salty
teardrop.  "Why?"
 
	Sailor Orion shimmered, and Jennifer Sakachi took her place, dressed
in the shipboard uniform she had put on seemingly eons ago.  "I wish I had
some clear-cut answers for you.  Hell, I'd be glad to say 'it's all their
fault, the Allies brought this ruin on us.' But I've studied too much
history, and we can't label like that.  It's . . . oh, screw it." She was no
superwoman, she realized.  All the history books in the world couldn't bring
her to sum up the spring of 3035 in one succinct sentence, and no-one could
ever just shrug off the events of the past month, least of all her.  It was
in the past, and in the past it would remain.  One could only take care of
the future.
 
	She looked up at the full moon, just beginning to peep out from the
gathering twilight of the eastern sky: a large, white-grey ball that among
other things influenced tides.  For billions of years the tides of the
oceans had mastered the land.  Recent events had proven that man could
master the tides as well, and she had seen the dead to prove it.
 
	The survivors would be ferried to the lunar bases, and live in
buildings modeled after those built thousands of years ago when the Silver
Millennium was the greatest civilization the solar system had known.  The
senshi . . . well, now they were more powerful, and the realm of Queen
Serenity II was larger.  The senshi would have more work to do than ever,
over a larger area than ever.  There would probably never again be a meeting
of all the senshi in one place.  While they would stay together, for
separation at this point was inconceivable, the two senshi on the beach
would probably never see Earth again, not from this point of view.
 
	It was getting dark, and the stars were coming out.  Jen drew Sailor
America closer to her against the coming cold of an unknown night. Jennifer
blinked back a tear, though whether from the events of the past twenty-four
hours or the blowing sand she never could and never would say.  She looked
up at the ruins of what had once been the greatest city in the world, and
said a silent prayer for the passing of an era.
 
	"Bye." 
 
=============== 
 
	There. 
 
	This was the hardest series I have ever done, and yet my favorite. 
I can say without reserve that this is my personal favorite episode to date.
And at least now you can stop worrying about who Jen said good-bye to:
Earth.

	Thanks to . . . dear heavens.  I do believe this has been one of the
most anticipated Sailor Moon fanfics in some time, and at least on afsm, the
most popular (even if I don't exactly think it worthy of such honor). 
Therefore, I'd like to thank anyone and everyone who's ever written to me or
posted regarding this series (and there have been a lot @_@).

	I certainly don't want to start sounding valedictory too early, so
I'll cut this short and be done with it.  As a final reminder, Sailor Moon
and associated characters are the property of various people that I'm not,
and are used without permission.  Have mercy on me.  Sailor Orion, Sailor
America, and their stories are mine, however, and using them without my
permission is a very bad idea.

	Next time, we continue as we nigh well must.  Bishoujo Senshi Sailor
Orion episode 401, coming . . . sometime.
 
========= 
 
Begun: 06:59 17 June 1998 
Finished: 22:56 3 August 1998
Final draft: 19:27 18 August 1998
Second revision: 18:23 23 August 1998
Third revision: 23:07 29 July 2000
Final edit: 23:31 26 February 2001