Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and its characters do not belong to me nor do I profit from this story.

So, this isn't the first Sailor Moon story I've written, but it is the first one I've published. It's not as goofy as some of my stories and it's not as serious as the others. I think it's a good middle ground. I hope you guys enjoy it and please leave some feedback.


"Jones! I have your next assignment," a heavy-set, balding man screamed into a sea of cubicles. A small head poked up from behind a gray half wall and looked toward the man before a woman came scurrying toward the man's office. She nervously pulled at her gray skirt as she walked through the doorway.

"Here's what I want. The paper needs a status update on the marriage between the Martian leader and the Venusian heir," the large man said. "We've all heard the rumors and I want you to out find the truth. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!" the woman quickly said. This was her opportunity to prove herself. No one at the paper took the ditzy blonde seriously. "Finally! A real assignment!" she thought happily.

"We've only got once chance here. It took a lot of wrangling just to get this interview," the man said.

Mars had always been shrouded in mysterious traditions and military dogma. Its army was the most feared in the galaxy and even the citizens would put up with no weakness. The latest marriage appeared to be a political agenda to align planet Venus and Mars. While Mars was a feared and mighty nation the soil of the harsh deserts could not grow enough food to support the population and on Venus the people of love also required protection. The marriage would be mutually beneficial. At least, this was how the people of both planets saw it.

"We have an anonymous source close to Princess Venus that says she is trapped in this loveless union," the heavy editor spat. On Venus it was practically a sin to not feel love.

"On your way to the planet be sure to read up on the customs. I don't want you getting there and making a fool out of yourself and this paper. As you know the Venusian aristocracy is keeping mum on the matter so this will be the first public statement regarding their union," the editor said as he began flipping through some papers.

"That's all!" he yelled causing Jones to jump.

"Yes, Sir! I won't let you down," she said suppressing the urge to salute.

"Ok I can't mess this up. I wonder who this mystery source is," she thought walking away to her cubicle. When she arrived at her desk she found a thick manila folder waiting for her. It contained everything she would need to know for this assignment and things she never cared to know. "Good Gods! Who put this huge thing together?? It would take a Mercurian to finish this whole thing!" she thought as she packed up her things to go home.

She walked through the door to her apartment dropping her things in the middle of the living room and fell onto a sofa. As she sat up stretching she reached over to her bag and pulled out the bulging folder. She opened it up and skimmed the first few pages. "Intense heat… Scorching deserts… Massive sand dunes. Sounds delightful," she thought.

"Ah! Finally something interesting. Martians are adept at metaphysical arts and their leader is said to have mastered most known forms of clairvoyance. I wonder if she'll be reading my mind the whole time I'm there… What a pervert," she contemplated as she continued to read.

"Whoa! Look at these military specs! Good Gods! These people like to fight and to think Princess Venus of all people is bound to one of these barbarians. Oh sweet, they gave me pictures," she thought.

The first one was of the Martian citadel which to her looked like a dark and imposing version of the Venusian palace. The next few were of the terrain and various long dead rulers.

"Come on! Give me a picture of this psychic banshee! Ha! I like that one maybe I'll include it in my article," she thought chucking to herself.

Finally, she flipped to a portrait of the Martian leader. She was so much shorter than the journalist had anticipated, but her fierce gaze, even through the picture, commanded immense authority. She stood in a dark desert clad in a daunting suit of burgundy armor. A great sword sat at her hip and behind her shoulder what appeared to be a flaming bow was attached to her back.

The oracle's long hair was caught stuck flourishing wildly in a breeze suggesting that a veiled inferno sat beneath. These things would've turned any warrior into the meekest mouse, but they were far from the focal point of the portrait.

The writer's eyes flickered around the picture before settling on the sternest and most eye catching face she'd ever seen. The woman was so foreign and dissimilar to anyone on Venus. Her mouth was set in a commanding and yet seducing scowl that dared you to come near only to burn you with its intensity.

Beneath all of the darkness and heavy colors of the painting the most vivid, lavender eyes gazed out staring straight into your mind, grazing against your every thought. As the journalist dropped the picture onto a table, she collapsed back into her seat as though her mind had been thoroughly caressed and fatigued by the image.

"She's absolutely gorgeous. I can't even think of how to accurately describe her. This is just a picture; I wonder what she's like in person," the woman thought as she closed her eyes preparing to sleep. "Okay, Princess Venus, maybe this wasn't all politics, but if it was I wonder this woman would think of me…" Jones thought as consciousness slipped away from her. "This assignment keeps getting more interesting by the second…"