Studio YOGIPIGS presents:
SAILOR MOON AX"
Based on Bishojo Senshi Sailor Moon by Takuechi Naoko
Written by Studio YOGIPIGS' "Project Muffinhead"
LEAD WRITER: ROBERT BARBA
CO-WRITER: ELIZABETH THOMAS
SAILOR MOON AX LEGENDS WRITER: AMY ANGEL
SAILOR MOON AX LEGENDS WRITER: EMANUELE BONAMICO
Research by Studio YOGIPIGS' "Odango Labs"
LEAD SAILOR MOON ANALYST (US VERSION): MARVIN PEACE
LEAD SAILOR MOON ANALYST (JAPANESE VERSION): SAKURA EDWARDS
TECHNOLOGICAL ANALYST: JOHN SHEAREN
WEAPONS AND MILITARY ANALYST: DAVID CLARE
PROJECT EDITOR: SAMUEL LAMBSON
CHAPTER TWO: Send in the Clones
Amy stared at Ami.
Ami stared at Amy.
The sun shone. Birds flew. Flight 407, nonstop to Heathrow, was climbing into the
sky. There was a Sigalert on the 405-10 interchange due to a three car pileup.
Disneyland was just opening its doors for the day. The Angels were in first place in the
American West, but no one expected them to go to the World Series; the Dodgers,
coming off a successful road trip, were also in first. The first episode of _Saber
Marionette_ would air tonight at 8:00 on NBC, the first time a �Japanamation� series
would be shown on mainstream TV. More rumors were flying in Hollywood about the
new _Star Wars_ film coming out in the fall, as well as a possible sequel to _Godzilla_.
In other words, just another day in La-la-land.
Welcome to California, Ami Mizuno.
***
Amy was not having the best of days. For starters, she was just getting over her
breakup with Jeff--he was dumping her because she never seemed to have enough
time for him. Then there was the fact that her car broke down on the Southbound 57
yesterday; the one she was currently driving was a Hertz rental. That annoying high
school kid from down the hall was leaving love notes and stuff on her apartment
doorstep again--that was the *last* time she offered to tutor any of her neighbors. And
on top of all that, it was that time of the month.
You think at this point, life would let up on her. But nooooooo....
Then she found out that Sandy had to fly back to Dallas for her brother�s funeral--
Goddamn gang violence--so when Tom asked her to fill in to pick up the Japanese
student the club was chaperoning for the transfer student program, she resigned herself
to her fate. If worst came to, one of her friends *did* speak Japanese. With that, she
shot up the 405 to the Holiday Inn LAX, with the intent of picking up one Ms. Ami (and
what was with the �Ah-me� pronunciation, anyway? It should be pronounced �Amy�, just
like that actress, Ami Dolenz) Mizuno.
She wasn�t expecting this.
***
Amy was the first to recover. �Wow.� A pause. �Ummm....� Another pause. She
stared at the girl that was, except for the slight, almost imperceptible difference in the
eye shape, was an exact twin of herself. �It�s, er, nice to meet you. Sign-ups for
classes aren�t until Monday, so I was planning to show you around the next few days;
acclimate you to California. So...have you had a chance to have lunch yet?�
�Aaaa, iie...that is, well, no, not yet,� came the verbal reply. Amy noted that with the
exception of an accent, this girl would sound exactly like her as well. It was very
unnerving, as though looking at a doppelganger of one�s self was an earth-shattering
reality; proof to the old maxim that there is al least one other person on the planet that
looks exactly like you.
�Hungry?� Amy ventured, trying to feel less uneasy and more comfortable around this
girl.
�Hai,� came Ami�s hesitant response.
�Good. We can do lunch at my friend�s place in Santa Ana. Her family owns a
restaurant. I hope you like Mexican food,� adding immediately afterwards, �You, um,
*do* have Mexican restaurants in Japan, right?�
�Yes, though I have never been to one of them.� ((Minako always said the stuff was
too weird,)) she commented mentally.
�Trust me, Ami,� Amy replied, �even if you had, you haven�t been to a real one yet.
The Mendozas cook the best fajitas this side of the border. Plus, I�m willing to bet that a
few of my friends are there, as well. We all usually get together and have lunch when
we can. After that, I�ll take you to the school so we can get you set in a dorm. Sound
okay to you?�
Ami, starting to feel a little more at home with the lookalike American facing her,
nodded a simple yes.
�Coolness,� Amy chirped. �Let�s grab your bags, get you checked out of the hotel,
then roll. We should be in Santa Ana �bout 11:30, if the traffic�s still light. While you go
pack, I�ll make a phone call and let Mrs. Mendoza know that we�re on the way.� With
that, Amy strolled out of the room, headed downstairs to the lobby in search of a pay
phone.
Ami saw the girl leave, then breathed an audible sigh. Not that she didn�t like Amy;
she in fact seemed to be a nice person. However, it was that her very presence made
Ami feel considerably uncomfortable. Not that it was the other girl�s fault, but truthfully,
how many people ran into situations like this? As Ami gathered up her things, it
occurred to her that this could be a sign, just as that young child portended--this could
be the start of the road that would eventually lead her to Usagi.
((However,)) she thought, as reality took a second to sink back in, ((how do we even
know she�s here? Or even in North America? Or for that matter, alive? For all I know,
she could be buried somewhere in the Steppes of northern Russia, or with a child
somewhere in Buenos Aires.)) Ami shook her head at that. ((No. Best not to think
about that. I just know she�s here. She just has to be here. It�s the only logical thing.))
Ami didn�t bother to remind herself that what Usagi did four years back could hardly fit
the description of logical.
As Amy strolled back into the room, Ami had to admit that this girl seemed pretty nice
as far as people went. There was also something about her that Ami secretly envied,
as though Amy was living the kind of life that Ami sometimes wished she could, but
would never act; obviously, these were natural things for Amy.
Amy helped her with one of the bags. �So, y�ready to go?�
Ami smiled. �Yes. I am ready to go.�
�Cool then. Let�s roll.�
***
Yokohama:
Above the skies of the Chinatown district, the air ripped open, a tear in the fabric of
reality that seemed to emanate with a deep, pulsating shade of blood-red. An
amorphous, insubstantial thing slipped through the tear, unnoticed and undetected in
the earliest hours of the morning. Gliding down the spire of the Marine tower, it slipped
in amongst the late night drinkers and young lovers near the Marine park. Gliding,
searching, it went along, a spirit, a wraith in search of a body. A parasite in search of a
host.
It entered and departed a few bodies, leaving each person as rapidly as it had
arrived, but leaving each person worse for the wear. A drunkard that it had inspected
went into a frightened sobriety, screaming that he would forever forswear the bottle. A
young punk, intending to bully some poor unfortunate out of his or her hard-earned
money, was left shaking and in a fetal position, ruing the day he crossed the line into
depravity. A homeless, ancient crone, seeing the creature for what it appeared to be
began saying as many Shinto prayers as possible in the hopes that it would leave her
alone; the creature, knowing that she respected the old ways, left her to be.
It mattered little, for soon, the creature would find exactly the specimen that it was
looking for.
And soon enough, it did.
On the far side of the park, away from the lights and bustle of pedestrians in the park,
away from the lit hulks of ocean liners, a young woman was contemplating her fate.
She was Morigami Chiaki, and until the last few days, had everything to look forward to
in life. Admittedly, she was the last of her family, but something from her youth spurred
her on: that she was destined for something great in life.
That was until her fianc� had been killed by a drunk driver six months ago. Chiaki
watched her life spin out of control then. Without Kaneda as her anchor in life, her
desire to become a doctor flagged. As things stood, she was close to being thrown out
of medical school, and her job was on the line. Even her best friend, her roommate,
was paying significantly less and less attention to her. But truthfully, none of it mattered
anymore. Nothing at all, and never again.
She�d come here to die. Looking at the dark, unlit waters that were slamming
violently against the seawall, she compared them to a choir of angels that were calling
to her, beckoning to her to come and join their dance in the heavens. Her long, dark
blue hair fluttered in the night; her eyes were two light blue orbs. All were features on a
beautiful young woman whose face was a mask of pure sorrow and despair.
She climbed the rail, and stood atop it. It would be a leap that would take only a
hairsbreadth, the merest fraction of a second. It wouldn�t be much of a leap--less than a
meter, to be honest--but with the force of the waves impacting against the shore, she
would be crushed in a matter of minutes. She would join her Kaneda in an eternal joy.
She steeled herself, ready to move to the afterlife.
<<DON�T.>>
�Who�s there?� she called out.
<<DON�T DO THIS. YOU WOULD HURT THOSE WHO LOVE YOU.>>
�But there is no one left!� she cried, tears streaming down her face. �My family is
gone, and Kaneda....� She paused, searching for the right words. �Without him, there�s
nothing left for me. Nothing at all. And there will never be again.�
<<YOU ARE DESTINED FOR MORE. YOU ARE DESTINED FOR GREAT THINGS.
YOU CANNOT FUFILL YOUR DESTINY IF YOU ARE DEAD.>>
Chiaki froze in her tracks. �H-h-how did you know about....� It then dawned on her
that the voice she was hearing was not caused by sonic vibrations of the air, but within
her mind.
<<YOUR DESTINY?>> The �voice� chuckled softly. <<I KNOW, MORIGAMI
CHIAKI; I KNOW ALL. AND I PROMISE YOU, SOON YOU WILL KNOW AS WELL.
LOOK AT ME.>>
Instinctively, she turned her head, and stared...
...at the inky floating shape aside her.
Morigami Chiaki fainted and fell.
***
Costa Mesa:
A typical day at South Coast Plaza, one of the bigger--and certainly more upscale--
malls in the area. Planet Hollywood was present, as well as CHANEL. May-Robinsons
seemed perfectly in place as well as Macy�s. Godiva, Sam Goody, Sears, Vie De
France, FAO Schwartz; you name it, and chances were, it was there. It was a symbol
of elegance in the Southland, a sign of all that was California.
It was about to become a target.
In the parking lot adjacent to the main complex, a pair of men sat in the back of a
van. Accompanied by a complex of computers and screens, the van looked more like a
mobile command center than a regular transport. Which made sense, since it *was* a
command vehicle. The two men followed the movement on various screens, watching
them as though it were either a top Neilsen-rated show, or a cryptic puzzle that needed
to be figured out without the benefit of a Rosetta stone. Yet still these two watched,
attempting to understand the mess that lay before them.
The two men were related, and it was evident in their features, but other than that, it
was difficult to tell. The one that appeared older was rail-thin and wiry, while the
younger one was a virtual mass of muscle. The thinner one was seated, while the older
leaned casually against the back of the chair, looking over his compatriot�s shoulder.
Both had blonde-red hair and engaging green eyes, with a slightly tanned skin. The
thinner one had a look of softness to his face, while that of the other spoke of a rugged,
outdoors life. Both were wearing what appeared to be black trenchcoats. In the
daytime. On a sunny day. During summer in California.
Something was clearly up.
The seated one turned to the other. �Burton, our people are in place.�
The man named Burton smiled. �That�s great, Chase. Bro, I tell ya, we�re gonna
make a fortune offa this caper.�
Chase replied, �Man, ya sure this plan�s gonna work? We just busted outta jail three
weeks ago, and now this high-speed job? Shouldn�t we lay low for a while?�
Burton coolly replied, �Naah. Now�s the perfect time to strike. With that problem they
just had in LA taken care of, the area�ll be in a lull.
No one�ll be expecting this, and we�ll make at least a cool hundred million off this.�
�Yeah,� Chase admitted, smiling. �My only problem is those Sailors. They�re fuckin�
everywhere.�
Burton huffed. �Man, fuck those whores. Goddamn frigid bitches are worthless.�
Chase laughed. �You�re only pissed �cause that cute one--Venus--blew you off.�
�Yeah, but next time I see her, I�m gonna bend her over and shove it up her backside.
Just watch. She is, after all, the goddess of loooo-ve.� Burton and Chase chuckled at
the prospect, then went back to staring at the screens.
A second later, a voice came over a voice line. �Pyromancer, this is Massive, over.�
Burton reached over and pressed a button. �This is Pyromancer. Report.�
�Everyone�s in position, boss. We�ve got people at all the critical points, and
demolition teams and missile boys are ready in the event that local police get antsy. I
even have a few of my hand-picked specialists, just in case. We got it made. We�re
gonna be the only ones who�ve ever heisted an entire shopping mall!�
Chase remarked, �Never think small, Williamson--you of all people should know that.
Think big, and ya get big, right?�
�Sure thing, boss-man. Massive, out.�
Instantly a second voice cam on line. �CapsLock to Pyromancer. We�ve got control
of the mall�s communication and security terminals. No comms are going outta that
place, and there�s no way that the computers controlling security functions are gonna
work either.�
Burton responded, �Thanks, Neil. You do good work.�
�Hey, Burton, m� man, when you pay for the best, you get the best. And I�m the best
Hacker there is.� Immediately the line disconnected.
Chase turned to Burton. �Ready to roll, bro?�
Burton smiled. �Lead the way to the Promised Land, Chase.�
A couple of minutes later, a pair of men waltzed into Saks Fifth Avenue�s front door,
and flung away their dark coats, a bizarre and symbolic disrobing. They quickly slid on
masks, then fired a combined spray of flame and bullets into the air. As people began
to scream, ducking for cover, more men popped up, guns at the ready, screaming for
people to get the fuck down or get dead. A few actually did receive the later option,
having the misfortune to either catch on fire or were blasted by several rounds.
The big man marched forward. He was dressed in red body armor with highlights of
yellow and orange; the suit glimmered and shined like a moving body of flame. His face
was covered by a nearly featureless full facial mask that only showed smoke-colored
eye lenses. He had two wrist flame-throwers attached to his forearms, and carried a
flame-thrower strapped down his spine.
He spoke, and the voice was amplified to sound like a Fire God. �I am Pyromancer,
but of course, you already know that. You can guess why I�m here. My buddy Recoil
and I are planning to do a little shopping. �Course, we also decided to bring a few
friends,� Pyromancer commented, �as you can plainly see.�
Recoil spoke next. �You know the routine, ladies and gents. Do as we say, and no
one ends up like them.� He motioned to a pair of dead bodies, the first victims. Recoil
smiled, a feral grin of a predator about to kill some serious prey. Like Pyromancer, he
was dressed in a variant of body armor. But where fire was the main theme of one, the
gun-metal gray tones signified the other�s trade. Wrist cannons were attached to
his forearms, and a TS-022 laser rifle sat snug on Recoil�s back. A pair of Desert
Eagles were holstered on either leg, and in his hands was an OCIW, with the setting on
the lower barrel, which hosted the 7.62 mm rounds. His mask had red lenses vice
smoke-tinted. �Oh yes, and just to let you know we�re serious--� With lightning speed,
Recoil aimed and squeezed a round off; the bullet lanced forward...
...where it bored its way through the head of a security guard who though he had a
chance. As the body fell to the ground, the remnants of his head scattering and
splashing around like an exploded watermelon, Pyromancer finished for his brother. �--
you can always ask that guard, though I doubt he�ll answer.
�Ladies and gentlemen, face it. You are caught.�
***
Santa Ana:
Amy and Ami walked into the front door of La Casa Mendoza, widely considered to
be one of the top family-owned Mexican restaurants around. Amy continued explaining
to her guest that not only was it better than well to do, it was one of the few Mexican
restaurants listed in the Michelin Guide--it had garnered the coveted Five Star rating.
This however, had no effect on the restaurant, which still maintained that
colonial California style that it had since it opened 15 years ago. It certainly had no
effect on the Mendozas, who were living their lives comfortably and with nearly no
change in lifestyle whatsoever; just a change in address, and the average car in the
family was a Porsche vice a Ford Pinto. The Mendozas still maintained their homey
little restaurant in the heart of Hispanic-oriented Santa Ana, and it was, as they said to
remind them of their origin as poor Mexican immigrants from twenty years ago who had
the fortune to strike it rich.
The Mendozas had been friends of Amy and her mother for nearly two decades.
Their eldest child was also one of Amy�s closest friends, having gone to the same
private elementary school together. Their friendship had not wavered since, and the
Mendozas were, thus, a virtual second family to her.
So it was no surprise that the woman gave Amy a warm, friendly hug. �Amy! Como
estas?�
�Asi asi,� Amy replied. �It�s so nice to see you, Mrs. Mendoza!�
�As well as you, dear. The girls are at table 14; they just got here ten minutes ago.�
Mrs. Mendoza then glanced at Ami. �And you brought your friend, I see.�
�Yes; she�s the new transfer student from Japan I mentioned. Ami Mizuno, this is
Guadalupe Mendoza. Vice versa.�
Mrs. Mendoza gasped when she got a good view of Ami. �Madre de Dios! Amy, she
looks just like you!�
Amy sighed. ((So much for anyone being able to tell us apart.)) �I suppose she looks
a *little* like me.�
�She could pass as your twin sister, Amy; maybe that says who your father was,
verdad?� Mrs. Mendoza gave Amy and Ami a studious, evaluating look. �So much
alike. Well, I�m sure you want to talk to the rest of the girls, so I won�t hold you up. I will
see you later. Ami, it was a pleasure meeting you.� With a wink and a nod, the middle-
aged woman was soon scurrying off to continue the mission of running her restaurant.
As both girls headed towards the direction of Ami took a chance and ventured,
�Excuse me, Amy-san, but what was that supposed to mean?�
Amy spoke with true candor. �Sorry, but Mrs. Mendoza gets like that occasionally--
she�s just looking out for me, you have to understand. It meant that you might be my
half-sister. Y�see, I have no idea who my father is. Even my last name--Andersen--is
my mother�s. She�s not sure who my father is, either; she used to be...a little more
promiscuous than she is now. I don�t hold it against her, though; I chalk it up to the
70s and the fact that if my father actually cared, he would have done something.
Assuming he knew. Why do you ask?�
Ami spoke a little clear as well, though not to the level that Amy had; in truth, she was
surprised that the woman would tell a virtual stranger that kind of information. ((Just
another one of the few differences between us, I guess; probably the result of an
American upbringing.)) �I understand. My parents divorced when I was a little girl--very
rare in Japan--and I see my father so very little. I sort of understand what it is like
not to have a father.�
Amy smiled. �Thanks for your concern, but I�m okay. The Mendozas were always
there for me when it was needed, and my mother�s been very supportive. I�d like to
think I turned out okay despite having no father. Okay, here we are.� Arriving at the
table, Amy called out to three women sitting there. �Hiya, guys. �M I late?�
One was getting into her chair. �I just got here a second before you did, Amy. Had a
shitty day at casting call; remind me to tell you about it later.�
One already seated, smiled. �Oh, the lovebirds said they couldn�t make it after all,
and Cathy�s running a little late as well. As for the others, you already knew they
couldn�t make it.�
A third was in a Mexican dress similar to Mrs. Mendoza. She was setting tortilla
chips, salsa, and a few drinks on the table. �Oh, hi, Amy. You wanted the usual, right?
I also got something basic for your guest, since you said she�s never had Mexican
before. Papa says hi, by the way, and wants you to swing by the kitchen on the way
out. I think he wanted your opinion on something.�
Amy turned to Ami. �Ami, I�d like you to meet some of my friends. As weird as they
are, they still mean a lot to me. Ladies, this is Ami Mizuno, and she�ll be with us for a
little while.�
The three did a double take. The one already seated remarked, �Amy, you haven�t
been to Scotland lately, have you? I heard they clone more than sheep, now.�
Those three weren�t the only ones who were shocked; Ami facefaulted as well. The
girl who just sat down was easily an analog of Minako. The one in the restaurant dress
was also a duplicate, but of Makoto this time. And as for the one who made the
remark...
...well, what exactly was Rei doing here, anyway?
***
Chiaki woke up.
She found herself on solid ground. The grass was wet with the spray of the sea, but
it was solid. She hadn�t fallen to her death. Something had saved her.
She looked to her right, knowing that it would be there. It. It had saved her.
�Why?� she asked.
Without warning, it lunged at her, crawling into every pore in her body. Unable to
scream out, she shuddered and shook violently, writhing in either pain or pleasure or
both. Looking like a woman possessed, she was fortunate that all the people who
would have looked twice at this event were scared off earlier by the creature.
Finally, she stopped shaking. She sat up, hugging her wet, sweating form as though
she�d been through the workout of a lifetime. Her breath came out in ragged, bursting,
gulps of air. She opened her eyes and looked up at the stars.
She heard a name in her mind: Cobalt.
She understood.
***
�Ami, this is Mina Reilly--�
The blonde grinned in a roguish manner. �Budding actress and mallrat
extraordinaire.�
�--Raye Hino--�
�Dozo yoroshiku,� the Japanese girl replied, then amended in English, �Sorry if that
came out bad, but my Japanese is pretty shaky. Don�t use it much around the house,
you understand.�
�--and Angelita Mendoza.�
The girl in the dress commented, �Lita, for short. �S a pleasure.�
Ami stared, all the while trying very hard not to look as though she were staring.
She�d just met a near carbon-copy of herself a couple of hours ago. Now, there were
three more added to the mix. ((Just what is going on here? And where does it end?
Haruka and Michiru? Setsuna? Mamoru? Even maybe Usagi? This is insane--
absolutely, utterly, impossible. There has to be some reason for it. Things just
don�t happen for no reason. Everything has a purpose. I�ll have to find out what theirs
is.))
Not aware of Ami�s inner dialog, Raye spoke. �So, Amy tells us you�ll be attending
UCI with the rest of us, huh? Medicine major, like her, or what?�
Mina moaned, though in jest. �Just what we need: another azurehair walking
encyclopedia.�
Lita smirked at that. �Well, the first _Encarta_ over there is saving your ass from
failing your psychology course, so I�d be a little nicer, �kay?�
Amy grinned. �Guys....�
Ami, trying not to watch her head spinning from the girls� automatic reactions�((They
all act just like us, at home!))-- ventured a question. �So, what are you all studying?�
It was Lita who answered for them all. �Well, as you know, Amy�s working on
medicine, but I�m not sure what her specialty will be. Mina�s going for the �starving
actress� Drama diploma--"
�Hey, that�s �dietarily challenged actress�,� Mina huffed.
Lita ignored her. �Raye and I are both business majors. I�m doing it because I�m
probably going to take over the restaurant someday. Not sure why Raye is, though for
a while it looked like to be a nun--�
�That�s �priestess�, Lita; I�m Shinto, not Catholic,� Raye answered. �Grandpa just
finally thought that life in a shrine wasn�t going to work out for me.�
�Besides, Chad�s PR agency would have a weird time dealing with that, wouldn�t
they?� Mina pointed out.
�Do you *have* to point that out to everyone? We�re trying to keep it low key!�
�Hey, when you got it, flaunt it!� Mina replied. Lita simply rolled her eyes at the
blonde�s remark, then moved back to the kitchen to check on lunch.
�Nani? I am afraid I do not understand,� Ami commented.
�Sorry. Raye doesn�t mind talking to us about it, but she�s sensitive about avoiding
the limelight with others. She�s engaged to Chad Thompson. Y�know, as in �Chad
Thompson & The Lava Bombs� fame? They met while Chad was staying at the shrine
recovering from burnout. Chad�s a nice guy, but his PR agency would rather have him
dating a supermodel than the girl next door. It�s a wonder that Chad hasn�t fired them
yet.�
�Well, if it is a bother, I will not mention it,� Ami commented. �To be honest, I have
never heard of him--I listen mostly to jazz.�
�Actually, it�s a secret,� Rei whispered conspiratorially, �but although he�s got two
platinum hard rock albums, at home he prefers to listen to soft jazz and new age.� She
was interrupted by the sound of Mina exploding into a fit of laughter. �Really! Stop
laughing, Mina!�
�Actually, I think it�s pretty funny, myself,� a new voice announced. �I never pictured
him as the Yanni type.�
All heads turned, commenting, �Oh, hi, Cathy. Late again?�
�Yeah, sorry.� Cathy sat down in the empty seat next to Raye. �I�ve got a deadline
on that new videogame I�m programming--the guys at Sony say they have to have the
title in beta form by next Tuesday; in fact, they want the CD-R on their desk in Tokyo by
Wednesday morning their time. They just have to realize that this is an RPG, not some
fighting game; the engine takes a little time.�
Ami looked at Cathy. To her relief, she was apparently an original. A young,
statuesque black girl with coffee-colored skin, brown eyes that bordered just to the right
of red, and hair a delicate shade of pink, she looked absolutely like no one she ever
met. Cathy sat, calm and collected, like an eye of a swirling, monstrous hurricane.
Cathy noticed Ami immediately. �Oh, you must be the new girl. Hi. Name�s
Catherine Edison, but you can just call me Cathy. And you are?�
�Mizuno Ami. Hajimemashite.� Ami braced for the inevitable �gee you look like Amy�
speech.
And here it came. �You know, you look kinda familiar, as though I�ve seen you
somewhere before.� Cathy paused for thought, then continued. �You�re not related to
Habarashi Megumi, are you? She�s my favorite J-pop star and voice actress.�
*�WHAAAAAAAAATTTT?!?!?!?!�* Mina cried. �You don�t think she looks like Amy?�
�What, are you crazy?� Cathy retorted. �Ami here�s Japanese, while Amy obviously
isn�t.�
Lita fortunately reappeared at this time, carrying the lunches. Setting them down at
the table, she said, �Well, you know how scatterbrained Mina can be. Hiya, Cathy--I got
you the usual, �kay? Be back in a flash, �cause I gotta change out of the waitress stuff.�
With a sashay of the Senorita dress, she was off to the back room.
As the girls dived into their food, Cathy�s beeper went off. At the same time, so did
Mina�s cel phone, Amy�s beeper, and Raye�s watch. They all played the same tune,
which Ami idly recognized as �Fly Me to the Moon.�
Mina pulled out her phone. �Um, must be my, um, agent. I guess I should call him.�
Amy looked at the beeper, then snatched the phone out of Mina�s hand. �It�s, er, my
Mom. She wants me to call her.�
Rei pressed a button on her watch. Looking at Ami, she said, �Alarm malfunction.
Sooner or later, I�m gonna hafta get a new watch.�
Cathy looked briefly at her own offending miracle, then commented enigmatically, �At
least I left the machine on.�
Lita came rushing out at that point, her watch beeping the same tune as the others.
�Guys, I�m afraid I�m going to have to skip lunch. I totally forgot about one of the
classes I had, and it�s a major test. Sorry, gotta go.�
Amy stood up as well. �My mom said something�s came up, and she needs my
help.� Turning back to Ami, she said, �I�m sorry that I can�t stay, but I�ll make it up to
you. Raye, can you take her to the UCI dorms and help her get set up?� She tossed
her the car keys. �Her stuff�s in my loaner junkheap. Trade rides with ya?�
Raye glanced at her watch again, then nodded. �Don�t worry about Ami; Cathy and I
got her set. But tell ya what: dinner and a movie tonight? Just to get Ami out?� She
fished into her pocket and tossed Amy her keys. �Take care of it, okay? I just made my
last payment on the thing.�
�Of course, Raye.� She tossed Mina�s phone back at her. �In fact, ladies, shall we
meet tonight at the Hard Rock in Newport?� Everybody nodded assent, so....
�Coolness; we�ll have to call the others and see if they can make it, this time. I�ll get
with you later. Sorry again about this, Ami, but I�ll see ya tonight.� With that, she raced
out the door.
�See ya tonight, Ami. Nice meeting ya.� Like a flash, Mina was out the door.
�Catch ya! Hasta.� Lita bailed out as well.
As Ami watched the trio leave, Raye called out in pretty bad Japanese, �Don�t worry
about that, Ami-san. We�re always coming and going like that. It�s why we get along so
well.� She then switched to English and explained to Cathy, who nodded vigorously,
voicing her agreement.
Ami, however, was not wondering about that. ((They all rushed out just like we did
whenever the Senshi were needed. I wonder if they have any connection to those
Sailors I saw on CNN.)) It was a possibility, but then there was the devil�s advocate
side of the issue: just because she was a Japanese �superhero�, didn�t mean that Amy
was one; the same obviously applied to the others. In any event, she knew she had to
get to the bottom of the American Sailors issue, and the only leads she had were these
people. If she was right, then her group of Senshi had found new allies; if she was
wrong, well, coincidences do happen, right? The point here and now was that it was
something to note and file away for future reference, and check on when she had the
time.
Ami turned back to her burrito supreme, and resumed chatting with her newfound
friends.
***
About four blocks or so from South Coast Plaza, Amy pulled Raye�s two-tone Jeep
into a deserted parking lot in front of a closed-down gas station. Amy climbed out,
closed the door, then spoke a simple word into the keychain: �Defense.� The sparkle of
a red energy field gleamed as it enveloped the Jeep, then disappeared as it changed to
an invisible color. She sat there for a second, looking at something on her electronic
organizer. She shook her head once, muttering, �Idiots. Of all the brain-dead things to
hold-up....�
At this time, a slate-colored Porsche and a white Mazda pulled up alongside the
Jeep. Lita and Mina stepped out of their respective cars, whispering words into their
keychains. Green and orange energy flared around them momentarily as the defense
systems powered up, then faded out of the visible lightstream. As the girls walked over
to Amy�s position, she said to her organizer, �Expansion: Holodisplay.�
Something on the back of the organizer glowed for a second, and then a holographic
display appeared before the girls, showing them exactly what she saw: a Windows 95-
like display with three windows displaying statistical data. Not looking at her
companions, she said, �Ladies, look at the top left window.�
�So,� Mina said, after a second or two of viewing, �somebody�s hijacking South Coast
Plaza�s main structure, huh? Pretty ballsy. How much do they want?�
Without taking her eyes off the screen, Lita commented while looking at the second
window, �Too damn little, if you ask me. I wonder if they�re aware of how much the
property�s worth.�
Amy replied, �I don�t care; we�re not here to nail them for bad financial judgement.
According to the bottom window, it�s several fireteams equipped with various weapons.
Who do we know that�s crazy enough to attempt something like this?�
�Well, there�s Maximum Darkness, but he�s doing time in Detroit, isn�t he?� Mina
supplied.
�Yup. What about the Blaster Masters?�
�Nope. They were taken down by that superteam in Miami last month,� Amy pointed
out. �Supposedly, Heavy Barrel escaped, but he wasn�t known for brains. This caper
takes brains.�
�Of which they have none,� Mina joked. �Anybody stupid enough to take over a mall�s
*begging* to have a BOOT TO THE HEAD sign strapped to his head.
�Man, I wish the boss was here--she�d know who it might be,� Lita commented.
Amy smiled. �Who do you think is feeding us the site reports?�
Mina blanched. �Oh, shit--I totally forgot!�
�You know she�s fine, Mina. She always is,� the azurehair replied.
�Yeah, I know,� the blonde sighed. �She�s my cousin--I have to worry.�
�Aren�t you getting the information from Delphi?� Lita replied.
�Only some of it--the statistics on the mall, and what�s known about the weapons.
The demands are coming from the SoCal HLO TacNet, and Code 0�s giving us internal.�
Speaking to the organizer, Amy ordered: �Stealth.� The organizer�s holodisplay shut off,
and the screen went from that of a sophisticated computer to that of a basic organizer.
She then shut down the organizer and shoved it into her purse.
Mina commented, �If worst comes to, we can talk to the officer on scene once we get
there. For now, let�s get moving right?�
�Right,� the others replied.
With that, all three girls raised their hands in the air, fists at the ready. �Go!�
Mina called out, intoning first: *�In the Name of Aphrodite, I call upon my birthright--
POWER OF VENUS, ARISE!�* On her ring finger, a simple decorative ring, adorned
with a orange jewel, began to glow with intense power. Within seconds, she was
enveloped in a cocoon of light.
Lita went next. *�In the Name of Zeus, I call upon my birthright--POWER OF
JUPITER, ARISE!�* The jade on her ring began to shine, and with a spark of light, she
began her transformation.
Last came Amy. *�In the name of Hermes, I call upon my birthright--POWER OF
MERCURY, ARISE!�* Her ring�s light blue gem erupted with power, and signaled the
start of her change.
A second later, the shafts of light disappeared...and with them, Mina Reilly, Lita
Mendoza, and Amy Andersen.
In their place stood Sailor Venus, Sailor Jupiter, and Sailor Mercury, primed, pumped
and ready to kick some bad-guy butt.
Venus adjusted her waist-length braid. �So, Jupiter, Mercury, here�s the game plan.
We get there. We get some info from Costa Mesa PD. We go in. We get to Code 0.
Then we kick some serious ass.�
Jupiter grinned with the look of a predator. �They�re gonna pay.�
Mercury said nothing. She simply put her arms around the other two, grabbed them,
and holding on, ran the four blocks to the mall. It only took thirty seconds, since she
was running slow for her friends� comfort.
***
Chiaki returned home to find her roommate up and waiting for her. �Chiaki-chan,
where�ve ya been! I was worried!�
�I�m fine; in fact, better than I�ve ever been in a while. I went for a walk to figure out
some things about my life. I think I found a purpose again.�
((That purpose is that we must stop the Survivors before it is too late. We simply
must. Basalt City must never surface in the future, or the world will die. The Survivors
must be destroyed utterly, each and everyone of them, before they can begin. Crystal
Tokyo may never come as a result, but it is a far better cry than the hell that awaits the
world now.
((I need to find my allies before it is too late, before the Survivors begin.))
Not mentioning her/its thoughts aloud, Chiaki commented, �I�ll tell you about it when I
get up. �Night.� No more to say, Chiaki moved towards her room, intending to get some
sleep. Tomorrow would be the first day she began her hunt, and it wouldn�t do to
combat anyone on a tired body.
Her roommate, in the interim, watched Chiaki move off. Was there an odd gleam in
her eyes, the woman wondered, but brushed it off. Chiaki had been suffering for so
long without Kaneda, the gleam had been gone. The gleam was obviously the sign of a
person that found a reason to live once more.
Happy that her best friend would be alright, Gekkou Hikaru yawned, stretched, and
went to bed. There was something in the air that Rei and Setsuna had felt; something
was coming, and if it was malignant, Sera Muun would need to be rested and ready for
anything.
