(Rating: PG-13)
 
================================== 
Episode 417: The Darkest of Nights 
================================== 
 
	Once again the civil defense sirens began their slow whine across
the city of Nagano-2.  The city's residents, already tired from all the
alerts in the past four months, carried out the now-routine tasks of leaving
their homes and going to the shelters, but they were stopped by radio, by
television, by police cars with bullhorns attached.
 
	On Akihabara Drive, Doi Kurmochi stopped in the middle of walking
out his front door.  Next door, the lights in the Sakachi/Pearcy residence
were dark.  No surprise; usually when things went wrong those two were
already at the trouble spots.  He didn't lose any sleep over their
preparedness and felt proud to be able to say he lived next to the planet's
sailor senshi.  Something else had caught his eye, though; the flashing
lights of a police car.
 
	"We repeat: all citizens are ordered to leave the city immediately! 
Local police will direct you to the appropriate evacuation routes.  Take
only what you can carry.  Remain calm, and move quickly!"

***[title sequence]***
 
	Kurmochi stood and stared at the receding car, then looked around at
the rest of the neighborhood.  Some seemed confused, but the majority were
taking the warning seriously, racing back into their homes and coming back
with jewelry, momentos, and other personal effects.  Gulping, he ducked back
into his house.

	"Is this the end?" he asked softly, running a hand along a wall he
had lovingly wallpapered himself.  What other explanation could there be? 
Apparently the authorities didn't think Nagano-2 was a safe place to be,
even in the shelters.  If Nagano-2 wasn't safe, even with the senshi to
defend them, was there really a safe place anywhere on the planet?
 
	Time to think quickly.  First he grabbed his car keys, then went to
a closet and retrieved a handlink from under a pile of coats.  Dashing to
the kitchen, he took an old grocery bag and stuffed in a bottle of milk,
half a loaf of bread, some cereal, a few other cartons of food, and a salt
shaker he happened to see on the table.  Then it was upstairs, where he
tossed in the wedding ring from his first and only marriage, some soap, a
towel, a change of clothes, and a pair of boots.  Satisfied, he ran back
downstairs and to his car, wasting no time in starting it and peeling out of
his driveway.
 
	The traffic jam that awaited him had to be seen to be believed . . .
but then again, with all Nagano-2's residents trying to get out as soon as
possible, it had to be expected.  Hopefully he would get out in time before
whatever it was that was going to happen.  Perhaps the sailor senshi would
even be able to handle it.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor America looked up at the sound of footsteps.  "Prisoner!"
bellowed the guard.  She blinked several times at the sight.  The guard
looked almost human.  His appearance was much like the one called Baustch,
aside from minor differences in size and hair color.
 
	She looked at him with undisguised hatred.  "What do you want?"
 
	"Your presence is required." 
 
	"By who, the cook?  Gonna eat me now?" 
 
	"Our Leader."  Sailor America could hear the capitals in the title. 
"Come now."
 
	She stood, making a show of stretching her limbs.  The glimpses she
caught to either side confirmed her fears.  Hiding just out of sight on the
other side of the barrier were another half dozen of the aliens, just
waiting for her to make a breakout attempt.  Hiding a sigh, she stepped
forward to the field.  No heroics, at least not now.  "Okay . . . take me to
your leader." Another minute's walk found her in the same chamber Bautsch
had been in months before.  Unblinking, she stood under the single
spotlight.  "How can I help you?" she asked in as sarcastic a tone as she
could manage.
 
	"You are the sailor senshi called America." 
 
	Inside she was fluttering.  This was obviously the leader of the
whole operation, and probably the only reason she hadn't been killed
outright.  This scared her more than anything had before and she knew she
had to be on her guard.  However, there was only one way she could face that
fear: humor.  She looked down at her sailor fuku.  "Sure looks like it.  And
you are . . . ?"
 
	"You will ask no questions!  Now, tell me.  What opposition will we
face when we make our assault on your world?"
 
	"You mean 'when you order other people to make your assault for
you.' You sure don't seem like the type to pick up a gun yourself." She
could almost hear the inquisitor's eyes narrow.

	"Such temerity will not be tolerated." 
 
	"Or what?  What are you going to do, kill me?  If you were going to
do that I'd be dead already.  You obviously want me alive, so you might as
well admit-AH!" She gasped in pain, bending almost to her knees in shock. 
The pain was like a thousand daggers all over her body.  It was all she
could do not to scream in agony.
 
	"There are things we can do that are worse than death, sailor
senshi.  Now tell us what we want to know."
 
	The brunette cast glances around.  As far as she knew, none of the
guards had come in here with her.  Perhaps this was her chance.  "Hm, you're
in luck then.  My specialty is information." She smiled despite the pain. 
"For example, this is how I deal with scum like you!  American Stars and
Stripes!"
 
	The aliens had made no attempts to bind her; her hands were free to
aim at the plausible commander of this expedition.  All her power flew into
the attack as the sparkling stars and streamers raced towards the darkness,
and just as quickly vanished.  No explosion, no flash.  Sailor America
blinked, hearing the rustle of a gown in the blackness, and then two
footsteps.  No figure emerged from the dark, though.  Then a single, slim,
pale white finger emerged from the gloom to point at the senshi.
 
	The next moment for Sailor America felt ten times worse than
anything she had felt before.  It was a dubious miracle that she didn't pass
out from shock.  For now, it was all she could do to curl up in the fetal
position and shake with the agony of it all.  Her tears collected in a small
pool beneath her flushed cheek.
 
	"I do not care how many times I have to do that.  Your kind have
shown mine no pity and no remorse, and I will show none to you.  You know
the location of your partner, the other sailor senshi.  You will tell it to
me."
 
	She let out a croak.  "Never."  Another shock of pain wracked her
frame, and another, and another.  She shook uncontrollably.  "You can hurt
me all you want, it won't matter."
 
	"I am the oldest living member of my species.  I have been alive far
longer than you.  You *will* tell me where the sailor senshi is, or else my
people will ransack every house and building on your miserable planet."
 
	"Well, I guess you'll just have to do that, then . . . too bad I
won't get to see your face when Sailor Orion cuts your head off."
 
	Through the ringing in her ears, she heard footsteps approaching. 
She opened her eyes just enough to perceive the figure: two meters tall,
green hair, elfin ears, dark almond-shaped eyes, dark clothing.  With a
single hand he picked up the senshi nearly three meters into the air. 
"Stupid bitch," he said simply.  Then he threw Sailor America to the ground,
and after that all for her was darkness.
 
*** 
 
	The operations center for the last defense of Nagano-2 was the same
familiar room in the heart of the city.  Emergency shutters had been slid
over the windows, though, and flashlights and first aid kits were placed at
strategic locations.  They fully expected to get hit, and hit bad.  On the
street below, two vans waited with engines running, in case the staff needed
to get out in a hurry.  Other than a few military police and the remainder
of the army, Nagano-2 was empty.
 
	Sailor Orion looked at the clock.  6:01; the hour given them by the
aliens had long ago elapsed.  Had it been a bluff after all?  Or perhaps it
was the weather?
 
	She meandered over to a computer and pulled up a weather report.  In
defiance of computer models, a snowstorm was brewing to the west and moving
in fast.  It was the worst possible situation for all the citizens forced to
evacuate, she knew; now they had to deal not only with the cold but with the
snow as well.  They would have the best portable heaters available, but it
would still be tough.
 
	Sailor Orion gritted her teeth and cleared the screen.  'That was
all the more reason to finish this *now*,' she thought.  'We can't afford a
prolonged siege in more ways than one, either we win quickly or we've
failed.' "Status?" she asked impatiently.  Adrenaline kept her going; she
couldn't remember the last time she had slept.
 
	"All sections report clear," replied Vanessa, unable to hide the
exhaustion in her voice.  "MPs are making a second sweep, but everyone
should be out of the city except for military personnel."
 
	"Artillery and infantry units report ready," chimed in Sammy. 
 
	"Cavalry is ready, added Kim.  "Well, what's left of it."  The
armored cavalry, already in short supply before the attacks began, were in
true peril now.  They were still poised to make a brave attempt at
protecting the city.
 
	As was she.  "Okay, then.  Any signs of a defold?" 
 
	"None yet, sir," answered Kim.  "Minimum ETA for a ship from Luna is
still four days away."
 
	"Signs from the enemy?" 
 
	"Their ships don't seem to have made any movements," replied Kim. 
 
	"No further word, I suppose," mused Sailor Orion. 
 
	"No, sir." 
 
	She tapped a green-booted foot.  "This waiting is getting on my-" 
 
	"Air warning red!" called out Vanessa far more calmly than she felt. 
"Four incoming targets, bearing zero-nine-four mark zero-nine-zero, speed
one hundred sixty kilometers per hour, range forty-nine hundred meters,
closing in on us fast!"
 
	"Sound general alarm, launch all remaining rockets!  Impact zone?"
Now that the waiting was over, Sailor Orion felt herself re-energized and
ready to make it through the home stretch.
 
	"Right here," said Antares.  The AI had been busy coordinating
defense and generating threat estimates, but was still paying attention to
the now-brightly lit control room.  One of the status screens now showed a
map of Nagano-2, with a solid light blue circle centered on a northern
suburb of the city.
 
	"Oh good, a nice isolated location." 
 
	Then three more dots sprang up, one in the harbor, one behind the
Parliament building, and the fourth, nearby, was right about at their
location.
 
	"They're splitting," intoned Vanessa gloomily. 
 
	Sailor Orion glared helplessly at the screens, but she knew there
was nothing that could be done.  Four impact points, four points from which
their damned champions would attack, and she could only cover one of them. 
One thing to do, it seemed.
 
	"Have our forces move to the other three locations as quickly as
possible.  Once there, they're to try and contain the invaders, understood?"
 
	"Roger," replied Vanessa.  She turned on her stool and began giving
orders.  The brunette knew just how hopeless the fight would be, but even if
they could buy Sailor Orion seconds, it might be worth it.
 
	"Warm up a Gertie for me," added Sailor Orion as she trotted out the
door, fully conscious that it could be for the last time.  "I'm going to
take the first one myself."
 
	"Good luck, sir!" called out half the staff as she left.  Then, all
was business as they went to work trying to save the planet.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion didn't have far to go.  The nearest Gertie was just
across the barren street, and it took just seconds to tap into its power. 
This was good; she could already see the clouds rippling away from a growing
dot in the sky.  She yanked out her communicator even as she drew Kedalion. 
"ETA?" she asked the control room.
 
	"Twelve seconds to impact!" replied Sammy. 
 
	The senshi assumed a defensive stance, resting on the heels of her
boots and readying herself for what would come next.  Too late to ask for
computer guidance; this would have to be done herself.  "Orion Sabre
Disruption!" she cried, bringing her arm down in the sweep needed to
complete her attack.
 
	She missed. 
 
	The senshi stood unblinking for a moment, staring at her quarry
which grew closer and closer.  Finally, the voice in the back of her head
came screaming to the front.  'MOVE!' She ran for cover, trying to get all
the traction out of her green boots that she could.  At this Sailor Orion
was successful; she had a meter to spare when the champion came to a sudden
halt just centimeters above the ground.

	Her thoughts were in a turmoil; how could she *miss*?  Senshi
weren't supposed to miss; it was impossible.  She couldn't recognize the
arrogance of that mindset, the arrogance in the idea that senshi were
somehow immune to the normal failings of soldiers in a combat environment; a
lesson the war of 3035 should have taught her.  Nor could she recognize the
fatigue of the last several days that had led her to this point.  All she
knew was that she had missed, and could very well end up paying for her
mistake with her life.
 
	Frantically she kept scrambling, not hearing the clanks behind her. 
The champion was emerging from its re-entry protection, the four sides of
the egg-shaped shell falling away like the petals of a flower.  Out of it
stepped a creature straight from Hindu mythology: bipedal, but with four
arms.  The many pointed teeth of its mouth were bared in a vicious smile.
 
	Sailor Orion finally turned, judging herself far enough away . . .
and immediately wished that she hadn't.  The beast--champion, she corrected
herself--was imposing enough.  Wasn't it overkill for three of those four
arms to wield swords as long, if not longer, than her own?
 
	Her first impulse was to go for the jugular again and try to liquefy
her opponent.  However, her recent error had put a dent in a confidence
already severely shaken by Sailor America's captivity.  She drew her sword
with a shaking hand, but not to unleash her most effective attack.
 
*** 
 
	In headquarters, men and women turned their attention from their
urgent tasks to look up at the main monitors.  Sailor Orion was displayed
there, despair beginning to show in her large blue eyes, her body locking
itself into an elementary defensive posture from fencing.
 
	Kim gaped at the sight.  "What the hell is she *doing*?" 
 
*** 
 
	Truth be told, the redheaded senshi didn't know.  From a tactical
standpoint it was a horrific blunder, but she could see no choice.  Thus: a
swordfight.
 
	The champion looked down at the senshi, its face clearly readable. 
'You seek to do battle with *that*?' it asked silently.
 
	Sailor Orion's only reply was to take a step forward, keeping a
barely steady hand on Kedalion.  She had taken up only the most rudimentary
training in fencing, but she also had the innate luck and intuition of a
senshi.
 
	The creature was in no mood to let her have the first blow, though. 
With a snarl it launched itself at her.  Sailor Orion dived out of the way,
rolling to the left and attempting a pass with her sword.  This too missed,
cutting only air.  She kept moving, rolling up on her feet.  In an amazing
shift of momentum, she rocked back for only an instant before leaping
forward and pressing the attack.  The champion, caught unawares, howled as
Kedalion found its mark, cutting through the thick natural armor of its body
as if it were paper.  Blood, thick and red, ran down the blade and dripped
silently on the cold gray sidewalk.
 
*** 
 
	"Sierra-10 has sustained damage!" called out Sammy as she peered at
her computer.
 
	It was little solace; the other three fronts of the battle were
going very badly.  Two of the champions had already chewed up the token army
units they had scrapped together, and the third was well on its way.  The
two free champions were making their way to Sailor Orion's position,
wreaking severe damage to the city as they went.
 
	'It doesn't take a tactical genius to figure out what's next,'
thought Vanessa grimly as she shifted slightly in her seat.  She was busy
trying to clear up traffic for the northward-moving evacuees.  Every once in
awhile, though, she could spare time to brush back her slightly long brown
hair and look at the big picture.  The big picture was beginning to look as
if none of them would survive the day.
 
	She felt like crying in frustration, like just giving in to the urge
to scream and rail in frustration.  Instead, she dipped into the well of
resolve and determination that had gotten her and her friends out of so many
situations, going back to their days on Pleiades.  Thus, Lieutenant
Commander Vanessa Leeds took a deep breath and shoved all the doubts and
fears aside.  Time to go to work.
 
	She looked up at her screen and returned to organizing the civilian
retreat, ignoring the drama that was unfolding on the monitors above.
 
*** 
 
	The two combatants seemed frozen in time: the champion, hunched over
and looking at its wound, and the senshi, gazing at her bloodied sword with
a look of wonder.  'I did *that*?' she thought.
 
	The attack came without warning.  The champion, apparently peeved
beyond belief, made a quick rebound and slashed forward with two of its
swords.
 
	Sailor Orion saw the attack from the corner of her eye.  Without
even consciously thinking of it she leapt to the side.  She wasn't fast
enough; she could feel first the biting cold of a blade, then burning heat
as the pain of it hit her.
 
*** 
 
	"She's hit," said a tech quietly. 
 
*** 
 
	In the cold December midmorning, Sailor Orion was suddenly very
calm.  Perhaps it was the shock of being injured.  Things began to telescope
outwards for her, happening in slow motion, and her mind became less human
and more like a computer.  A running commentary of her thoughts at that
moment would look a bit like this:
 
	Cut to left lower abdomen, about eight centimeters in length,
perhaps four millimeters deep.  Kidneys intact, intestines intact, no major
blood vessels broken, multiple smaller arteries and capillaries broken. 
Bleeding, rate slow, no immediate danger from blood loss.  Otherwise body
okay.  Decision: continue fighting.
 
	This took about a microsecond. 
 
	Target is two meters away and receding.  Is protecting both flanks,
but may be vulnerable in back.  Problem: back too far away, unable to move
into position in time.  Solution: throw sword at target.  Rejected: unable
to guarantee accuracy.  Solution: throw self at target.  Decision: throw
self at target.
 
	This took another microsecond.  Then things sped up again.
 
*** 
 
	In orbit, Sailor America was brought to the control center of the
lead alien ship, head bowed.  Not out of fatigue, but shame: her hands and
legs were in irons.
 
	'Such a disgrace!' she thought angrily.  Wasn't it enough they had
her here, hundreds of kilometers from her lover, unable to do anything to
help her?  Did they have to bring her to their bridge so she would be forced
to see her lover's defeat?
 
	"To your knees!" bellowed a guard.  Behind the guard, Baustch stood
watching approvingly.  The alien commander was quite pleased: one sailor
senshi in custody, the other about to die, Holbrow out of his hair on
another ship--he had made up some excuse or another for her to be there, and
she had bought it--their Leader showering him with praise for a job well
done.  Yes, life was good, and it was about to get much, much better.
 
	"He said to kneel," said Baustch, laughing.  He walked over and
forced Sailor America's head and body to the ground with a powerful push of
his right arm.  The brunette's cheeks burned, and her fists shook with
anger.  'Oh yes,' she thought, 'there will be a reckoning for this.' She
kept her silence.
 
	"As you can see, sailor senshi, your partner's life is about to come
to an end." The image before them was from the champion's own eyes, turning
back to see the red gash opened on Sailor Orion's side.  The picture quality
was too poor to make out details, but from what Sailor America could see her
lover was in bad shape.  "And I think you should also know that as soon as
she is eliminated, we'll be sending down our full force." Baustch turned his
back from the picture, triumph clearly written on his face.  "So, anything
you'd like to say to eulogize your friend?"
 
	A single tear fell from Sailor America's right eye as she watched
Sailor Orion pull herself up, and then her crestfallen expression changed to
one of sheer delight.  Before her eyes, the red-haired senshi sprang up and
leapt towards the champion.  The champion couldn't see the blow it was
dealt, but she, as well as all the other aliens watching, could see Sailor
Orion's arm fully extended.  There was only one thing that could mean.
 
	As the image slowly dimmed, and finally went completely to black,
Baustch finally realized by the looks on his compatriots' faces that
something was wrong . . . and Sailor America began to believe once more.
 
*** 
 
	Sailor Orion bent to one knee, panting with the effort.  Her sword
still lay buried to the hilt in the body of her rapidly decaying opponent. 
With an absent expression she rose and took it out, bracing her left boot on
the thing for support.  She inspected it a moment.  It was definitely very
messy.  Without thinking, she swept it through the air, and in so doing in
and out of her pocketspace in a flash.  The messiness was gone now.
 
	Standing, she realized for the first time on a conscious level the
severity of her injury.  It hadn't been deep, no, but it was still bleeding
at a steady rate.  She would have liked to take out the first aid kit she
kept in her pocketspace, but there wasn't that kind of time.  She could hear
the rumble of more combatants coming towards her position, and there was
nowhere to hide.  She had to take out those three enemies, and take out the
alien ships that loomed overhead.  There wasn't a shred of doubt left in
her, though.
 
	Eileen Pearcy, Sailor America, her lover, was up there, and nothing
in the universe was going to stop the love that bound them from reuniting.
 
	It was time. 
 
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