Epilogue II: Destiny Waits For No Sailor

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"God, sometimes I don't BELIEVE those girls!"
A scowl.
"What NOW, pyro?"
A glare of purple eyes.
"Are you STILL mad about my earlier comment?"
A pout.
"Maybe."
A roll of eyes.
"I find THAT hard to believe..."
Sighs of exasperation from other women.
"Well, a LONG time ago, I found it hard to believe that someone
as hot as Michelle here was g--"
WHOMP!
"Holy crap! That hurt!"
A glower.
"NO one calls my wife hot except me, understand?"
A gulp and the rustling of a certain tan suit.
"Hide me, Sets! She's gonna kill me!"
"Well, Michelle isn't the only gay one... Right Amy?"
A blush.
"I never saw Phoebe like THAT..."
Another blush.
"I always KNEW that one of our daughters liked women!"
A DEEPER blush and the laughter of a brunette.
"No good can come of this..."
A frown.
"What's that, Suse?"
"Nothing."
"You have a PET NAME for her, Alex?"
WALLOP!
"Jesus, you jerk! STOP!"
A sigh.
"You DESERVED it, Ken."
"Aw, shaddup."
Silence. The blowing of blonde hair in the wind.
"There will be good in the end, Susan. There will always be
good."
A sigh.
"You say that now."
The smile of a Queen.
"If the fallen angel can become a saint, the Galactic Sailors
can deal with an Eve."
A smile. The glitter of crimson eyes.
A frown.
"Since when has that turret been broken?"
The turns of several heads.
"Damn! I thought I fixed that, too!"
A pause.
"NEVER send a woman to do a man's job."
A glare.
"You're SUCH a sexiest pig, Endymion!"
A snicker.
"You're just really butch!"
Five nodding heads.
"I agree!"
"Me too!"
"I'll help, big bro!"
"I'll pitch in!"
"Totally cool."
The groaning of wives.
"Greg..."
"Ken..."
"Terry..."
"Andrew..."
"Chad..."
The ignorance of males.
"We'll beat the dyke's repair job good!"
SLUG!
"OUCH!!!"
* * * * * * * * * * * *

She sighed, bending over to pick up an overturned chair. Her
face was pale, placid, as she smiled slightly at the sight her half-
asleep father made. He was trying so hard to be so good, picking up
after the umpteen guests that had roamed the ballroom that evening.
But he looked like he would fall fast asleep at the drop of a hat.
"What a party!" announced the blue-braided woman cheerily,
twirling in a slow circle, her crimson gown swirling about her long
legs. Her pink, pale lips were curved upward into a smile. "I never
thought we could have such a good time!"
The curly-haired blonde girl smiled more widely than before,
her strawberry-gold tresses falling into her bright blue eyes as she
straightened up and gazed at the woman. "Now, Miss Phoebe," she
laughed aloud, watching the dancer twirl about the ballroom, "you're
going to make another mess for us to clean up!"
Phoebe frowned, stopping in her tracks as she saw the girl's
eyes upon her. She leaped across the marble floor quickly, landing
right before the teen. "Now, come ON Callisto!" she whined loudly,
catching the girl's hands in hers. "Let's dance!"
Giggling, the princess let herself be turned in quick, fast
circles a few times before pulling from the grasp of the adult and
stepping back. Phoebe, thrown off balance by the sudden lack of a
partner, slipped and slid right into a line of chairs. They crashed
over, and so did see.
Callisto gasped and rushed over to the woman. "I'm SOOOO sorry!"
she hurriedly said, completely chagrined as she offered forth a hand
to the sprawled-out dancer. "Are you alright?"
With a pained groan, Phoebe grabbed onto the girl's wrist,
slowly hoisting herself back onto her feet. There was a laugh, high
and pleasant, from across the room, and the dancer felt her icy eyes
narrow dangerously toward the marble throne on the back wall.
"Don't even," she grumbled, smoothing the long, soft folds of
her gown. "If it were you, I wouldn't have laughed in the least."
Lyra, Elder Queen of the Earth, brushed a curl of gold-brown
hair from her face, a plastic fork hanging from her mouth as she
chuckled at the disheveled woman. "Yeah, you wouldn't have laughed at
me," she agreed with a slight nod, plunging the aforementioned fork
deep into her cake before sending a meaningful look in her friend's
direction. "After all, Richard would have beaten the crap out of you
if you'd even smiled." Her brown eyes darted toward the eternally
young man, who was folding a large tablecloth. "Right, snookums?"
'Snookums' frowned slightly as she said this, nearly dropping
the cloth as he turned to glance in her direction. "Yes, dear," he
agreed tensely, glancing about the room, "but right now... Tita!" His
brow furrowed. "I need to... Titania Kyoko!" His nose wrinkled as he
set down the tablecloth on the nearest chair and rested his hands on
his hips. "Where did that girl go?" he questioned tersely, a hint of
anger in his deep voice.
"She went to put Mistress Ambriel to bed," stated the curly-
haired teen, bending over as she straightened the mess that she and
Phoebe had made but moments before. "The Mistress doesn't feel very
well, I don't think."
Sighing, Celeste Chiba sat down on the armrest of her sister's
throne, her pale face a mask of worry. "She's been sick a lot lately,"
she responded to her niece's comment, voice soft. "Her pregnancy's not
going as well as expected, and..."
"Pregnancy?" Lyra gaped up at the tall blonde, her eyes wide as
the proverbial saucers. "Since when has SHE been pregnant?"
"Since the Silver Moon needed an heiress," put in Peter as he
strode back and forth across the ballroom, an almost-sleeping Larissa
cradled in his arms. "It won't be long now, and..." He shook his head
a bit and trailed off.
His little daughter, who had been sucking on her thumb, yawned
and glanced sleepily at the Queen. "There has to be an Angel Moon,"
she stated, the certain flinty tone of timelessness echoing in her
young voice. "If the coming Eve is to bring ANY good..."
Everyone froze in their different tasks, gazing across the room
at the seemingly sweet blonde-haired girls. She smiled sweetly,
innocent green eyes glittering with mirth, and Alice Walker found
herself sighing from halfway across the room.
"I think she has a point," she said with a slight bit of
amusement. "There's always been some tradition to the hierarchy of
the Sailor Soldiers..."
Callisto smiled, a certain wistful quality to her expression as
she leaned up against a nearby table, holding a centerpiece in her
hands. "I think it will be nice to be a Soldier..."
Suddenly, there was a new presence in the room, the strong
stubbornness of a destined soul felt by all.
There, in the doorway, stood Titania, her cobalt eyes rimmed
with tears.
"It will be for you!" she yelled, irritated. Her small fists
were clenched tightly around the hem of her pajama shirt, and her
face was the picture of hatred. Her slender shoulders shook, and she
seemed to be trembling with all her might. Still, those dark eyes
were focused at her sister, the strawberry-blonde teen the entirety
of her focus. "It will be just fine and good for you to be a soldier,
and you'll enjoy it just fine!"
Gulping, Callisto pushed her small glasses up on her nose, her
face perfectly innocent. "Tita, don't be like--"
"No!" screamed the girl. "No! Don't chide me anymore! I'll
NEVER be something special, never, and I want to be!"
Then, turning on her heel, she ran quickly back down the hallway
she had come from.
Slowly setting down her plate, the Queen of the Earth glanced
across the room at her husband. He pursed his lips apprehensively,
his blue eyes meeting her gaze.
"The time will soon come," she stated plainly before standing
and striding out of the room.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

Silence.
"They're our lifeblood," commented she, the Silver Star on her
brow burning brightly in the chamber's slight darkness. "They're what
pulls it all together."
The one sitting right beside her let out a long sigh. "This was
bound to happen eventually," she put in softly, her voice reflective
as she lowered her chin to her paws. "No bloodline lasts forever, and
perhaps this is a sign of the future."
Silence.
The last member of the trio glanced through a window, his copper
eyes glinting as they met the bright midnight moonlight. "The world
has never revolved around us," he stated plainly, his deep baritone
echoing slightly against marble walls. "It's time we let them go."
He was promptly beamed upside the head with a paw.
"Orb!" scolded the silver-marked calico cat, her scowl
unmistakable as she glowered at her mate. "You're being stupid again!"
The orange-and-white tom frowned confusedly. "I don't think I'm
being stupid!" he mewed loudly in protest, nursing both his bruised
skull and bruised ego. "I think that I made perfect sense!"
Orion would have continued her tirade had not the third cat,
her pink fur dotted, now, with gray, stepped between the bickering
feline couple. "Orb's right," she told the other she-cat calmly, as
though talking to a small child. "We, as Guardians, have always been
secondary." The calico scowled, but her Moon Cat companion pressed on.
"All the Mistresses will still be alive and well by time the Eve
comes," she continued, magenta-red eyes glowing, "and they will
certainly still have the kittens to help... Even if they are not so
much kittens any more." She sighed slightly and shook her head.
"Nothing lasts forever."
In a glimmer of light, the Guardian of the Silver Star was in
the form of a molten-silver human being, her bright green eyes
glittering as she began to pace nervously across the room. Orb sighed;
her transformation was a sure sign of her distress, because she only
bothered to be a pseudo-human so she could pace like a human being
could.
"I know that nothing lasts forever," Orion lamented, her silver,
human lips pursing into a frown as silvery eyebrows knitted together.
"But the Silver Millennium bloodlines surely won't last that long,
either, and THEN what will happen?"
The pink cat sighed and shook her head, glancing to her brother
for support. He gave none; his golden eyes were already filled with
worry for his mate. Diana let out a long breath and closed her eyes
for a moment, thinking.
"Que sera, sera," she finally said after a long moment of
silence. The other two glanced at her confusedly. "'What will be,
will be.'" She wrinkled her nose at the bewildered faces that stared
at her. "We can't control the future, but we can help shape the
present.
"Whatever happens to the Galactic Sailors and their heiresses
is part of our lives, forever," she continued, her face solemn as she
met the green-eyed gaze of Orion. "If the girls cannot embrace their
destinies, than we will certainly live to see the end of the world."
The fear in the forest-colored eyes of the silver spirit was
unmistakable. "And, then again, if they are willing to be as good as
their mothers and better, then we may see paradise." A slight smile
touched her lips. "We just can't afford to worry about it."
"'The world has never revolved around us,'" quoted Orion
softly, reaching down a human hand to caress the soft, fuzzy fur of
her orange-and-white love. "And I don't think it ever will."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a rather cool day, but she paid no heed. A ponytail of
curls, sparkling in the winter sunlight, was pushed by the cold breeze
as she turned a single page in her book. Blue eyes roamed over the
words expectantly, waiting for the next bit of excitement and
adventure that the little volume held.
"Hey, you're Callisto, aren't you?"
She looked up, her breath leaving little clouds of steam in the
air as she glanced at the two people before her. They were both
female, with thick coats covering all but the last few inches of two
navy blue skirts. Her brow furrowed as she gently closed the dog-eared
copy of "The Great Gatsby" and stared at the strangers.
"Yes," she replied in a puzzled tone, obviously confused.
The taller of the two, a longhaired blonde with unreal bronze
eyes, smiled demurely. "I'm Vera Hartford," she introduced, holding
out a hand. "I believe we met at the party a few nights ago."
Immediately, the curly-haired one smiled and shook her hand.
"Of course!" she chirped her merry way, her soprano lilt sounding very
much like her mother's. "I remember you!" She turned quickly toward
the second girl, this one slightly young and a good half-foot shorter.
Black-brown tresses flowed from a high bow atop her head and down
around her shoulders, the almost ebony hair shining in the sun. "And
you're Ariel Yoshiko, right?"
With a timid grin, the shorter one nodded. "Yes," she responded
carefully, her alto voice deep and soothing. "I think we met, too."
"Great!" Callisto scooted over on the wooden bench, letting her
two new companions take up seats beside her. "Then you, too, must be
daughters of the Galactic Sailors... Right?" She glanced doubtfully at
the blonde.
Vera nodded slightly. "That would be us," she stated blandly, a
certain hint of unhappiness in her voice. "Heiresses of some sort."
"It's going to be scary," commented Ariel in a wayward manner,
her deep hunter eyes glancing across the school's front courtyard and
toward the crystalline palace in the city's center. "We're going to be
powerful..."
The Elder Princess chewed indecisively on her thumbnail. "And I
thought that Crystal Tokyo was a utopia," she put in softly, also
staring across the city and toward her home.
The other blonde, the oldest, tucked her hands behind her head
and leaned back into the bench, gazing up at the sky. "That's what we
were always told to think," she replied languidly, as though the
subject bored her. "But nothing is ever perfect, now is it?"
"No," agreed Callisto softly, "I don't think it is..."
Silence washed over the trio on the bench as a brunette, thin
and lanky, smiled softly. Her sister seemed to know more than she let
on. The girl sighed, adjusting the books in her arms as she started
toward the school's front doors. Sometimes, it just wasn't fair...
And then, she collided with something.
"Ouch!" grunted a stranger's voice as the brunette was propelled
backwards, landing roughly on her bottom as her textbooks went flying
in several directions. Another teen, about the same age, stature, and
weight, was right in front of her, very much in the same position.
This girl, however, was dressed in the familiar workout garb of the
school's track team, and she seemed to be rubbing a bruised elbow
instead of a bruised ego.
Gasping, she began to gather up her things, hardly looking at
the runner she'd just plowed over. "I'm SO sorry!" she hastily yelped,
a blush crossing her face. "I was just so caught up in my thoughts
that I didn't see you and--"
"It's okay," responded the girl in the sweats, climbing to her
feet and brushing off her outfit. "I'm not hurt." She glanced down at
the girl before her, offering forth a hand. "I'm Elara Walker."
"Vesta. Vesta Hartford." Accepting the hand, she pushed a few
strands of short hair from her face and smiled gently at the stranger.
Somehow, the other girl looked familiar, what with her long chestnut
tresses pulled back in a loose braid and her sparkling brown eyes...
Enlightenment dawned on her face suddenly, and she adjusted her books
and papers to better shake Elara's hand. "You're one of the Galactic
Sailors' daughters!" she exclaimed excitedly. "We met at the party
two nights ago!"
The runner furrowed her brow for a moment before smiling and
nodding in agreement. "Yeah!" she agreed cheerily. "You're...
Haley's...daughter, right?"
Vesta nodded, her aqua eyes sparkling. "I'm sorry to have run
into you," she apologized once again, letting free the soft hand of
her newfound companion. "I was just caught up in my thoughts and..."
"Happens to the best of us, Vesta!" interjected the other
brunette, already taking off down the sidewalk at a slow, backward
jog. "But I'll catch you at lunch and we'll sit together, okay?"
"I'd like that!" she yelled happily at the retreating form.
"Later!"
Her voice echoed.
And, from the front of the school, a redheaded teen sighed
slightly.
"If this doesn't SUCK," complained Titania Umino, crossing her
arms over her school uniform's shirt as she glared out at the world.
"Look at all this! Calli has friends, and the girls I met at the
party don't even say HI, and it's not fair!" She stomped a foot
angrily, brushing hair from her lowered cobalt eyes. "They don't
care! None of them care!"
But the anger gave way to despair as she rested her head against
the cool metal of the doorjamb, still staring out at the world. Her
eyes were unseeing, unnoticing, uncaring... She sighed once again and
shook her head slightly. "It's not fair," she breathed to herself,
pursing her lips. "They're special, and I'm just a girl."
And hunter tresses blew in the wind as mysterious eyes watched
the redhead retreat into the building.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

They had been silent for nearly an hour.
The two young women, both looking to be only in their twenties,
strolled down the sidewalk of Crystal Tokyo. The sunlight filtered
through the bare branches of January, casting strange, thin shadows
on the pavement. It was a slightly cool day, not so cold as for one
to see their breath, but it was definitely the time of the year for
coats and sweaters.
Sighing, the blue-braided one glanced at her wavy-haired friend,
her small nose wrinkled. She hadn't even SAID anything, really...
'And what if we weren't just put here to be Soldiers?' The
scathing words of her rant echoed through her mind, a stream of
consciousness that she rather wished to escape. 'What then? Do we
really continue to waste our lives like we have been doing?'
She frowned, brushing a loose strand of hair from her icy eyes.
It HAD been her fault; somehow, many of the arguments were.
They had talked about everything, up until the bickering. They
had talked about life, about death, about love, about Sari--the name
sent unwarranted shivers down her spine--and then about children,
heiresses, and the future.
'Come now, Phoebe,' the auburn-haired one had laughed, taking
her credit card back from a store clerk. 'You're a Soldier, and
there's nothing else.'
And, like a rocket, she had gone off.
The winter wind rustled the barren branches of so many Ginkous,
and she shivered involuntarily. It was her fault; it always was, to
some extent.
"Hey, Alice, I'm really sorry about--"
Suddenly, Phoebe felt something tug on her purse strap, and the
next few seconds were a literal whirlwind.
Throwing her weight to one side, she used her dancer's balance
to turn herself in a circle and dragged whatever was hanging on her
purse along with her. Time seemed to slow as she raised a single leg
and kicked the attacker--she could see now that she was the victim of
an attempted purse snatching--hard in the shoulder.
Her attacker let out a pained, high-pitched yelp before
slamming, back first, into the red brick front of a small coffee shop.
A few passers-by glanced warily and the scene but dared not get near
any of the three participants. The obvious rage of the blue-haired one
was enough.
Heart racing, breathing raged, she lowered ice blue eyes,
glaring angrily at a strange sort of downward angle at the assailant.
Bright, crystal blue eyes, slightly slanted and fearless, glowered
right back at her.
And then Phoebe gasped.
The purse-snatcher was nothing but a ragged girl!
Tall and lanky, the would-be criminal--no older than twelve or
thirteen--stood with her back to the bricks, still clutching onto the
black purse strap. Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, her
breathing ruffling dirty orange-red curls that hung in her face. She
was extremely thin, and the sweatshirt and jeans she wore seemed to
be several sizes too big. Still, the resolve in her eyes was amazing,
and it almost led the adult to let her go.
Almost being the key word, of course.
"What do you think you're doing?!" roared the blue-braided one,
her voice icy and low as she stared down at the panting girl. "Do you
have ANY idea how illegal stealing is?"
Alice's face blanched, and her chestnut eyes went wide as she
listened to the venom course through her friend's voice. "Pheebs..."
The angered blue-haired one didn't turn from her target, but
her attention momentarily flickered toward her companion. "No!" she
shot, an edge of annoyance in her tone. "I want to know what this...
this CHILD...is thinking!"
There was an uneasy pause as the girl brushed a strand of gold-
red hair from her eyes, still clasping desperately to the purse. Her
eyes were glimmering with a certain deft fearlessness.
"I'm thinkin'," she responded in a low voice after a long bout
of silence, "that you've gots cash that I don't."
For what seemed to be an eternity, Phoebe just stared, the fury
in her entire expression melting away to sweet compassion. Her lips
were slightly parted in some semblance of shock as she gazed down at
the girl. "What did you say?" she questioned, confused.
The strange child grunted, tossing her head a bit, but her line
of sight never wavered. "You heard me."
All compassion drained from the actress' face as she once again
lowered her eyes. "Don't you DARE talk back to me like that!" she
shrieked, unbridled rage searing through her tone as she glared icily
into the child's complacent eyes. "Didn't your parents ever think to
teach you better?"
A cool gust of wind picked up, and Alice shivered. The staring
contest between victim and criminal grew deathly silent, the
uneasiness in the entire situation almost palpable.
Then, the girl shrugged noncommittally. "Hard to learn if you
ain't got parents, ne?"
Phoebe gasped, staring straight at the girl for a long moment.
Some sort of power, the likes of which she'd never felt before,
swirled around her body, and she could feel the hem of her skirt
rustle in the unseen motion. Suddenly, there was a glimmer of bright
blue on the child's forehead, the likes of which the dancer had never
seen before. In but a second's time, it formed a single symbol, and
then died away.
The energy around her stood still, but the woman recognized the
symbol.
It was the sigil of Mercury.
Suddenly very cold, the girl let a shiver rack through her body.
Something--and she wasn't sure what it was or where it had come from--
had brought her warmth, and it was gone. The stranger's intense stare,
now gentle and full of adoration, caused her heart to race. It was
like a mother's gaze, full of a strangely unconditional love...
Like a...a mother?
The auburn-haired one brushed a wavy tress from her face,
gaping at the duo before her.
Letting free her purse, Phoebe took a small step closer to the
girl, her manner completely morphed. "What's your name?" she asked
softly, her voice lacking the harsh edge that, moments ago, had
dominated.
The girl didn't move an inch. "I don't got one," she responded,
her tone uncertain.
"None at all?"
Considering this, the odd child wrinkled her small nose and
pursed her chapped lips. "Well, the nannies at the orphanage used to
call me 'Trinity...'" There was a pause, as though pondering the name.
"Before I ran away, I mean," she added hurriedly, as though the woman
before her was part apparition and would fade away before her very
eyes.
"So, kiddo," Phoebe addressed her, manner of speaking unusually
casual, "do you believe in destiny?"
The girl didn't wait to answer. "I didn't until now."
Unable to remain silent any longer, the observer frowned. "WHAT
IS GOING ON?" she screamed, fists clenched at either side of her body.
"I'M LOST!"
Taking another miniscule step forward, the blue-haired one
gently took her purse from the white-knuckled grasp of the girl. Her
smile was soft, loving, and filled with an emotion that she would
have, ten minutes ago, said she had no capacity to feel.
Maternal compassion.
"Well, Trinity," she spoke, her voice echoing through the area,
"my name is Phoebe Urawa, and I think that I'm meant to be your
mother."
There was silence as the girl stared and then, slowly, allowed
her face to break into a smile. Phoebe reached forward and shook the
child's hand, gripping it with all the consideration and kindness of
a parent.
And Alice exploded.
"WHAT?!?!?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *

The slow, melancholy violin melody ripped through the otherwise
silent house as the teenaged girl stood alone, the small 'music room'
completely vacant of any other sign of life.
Her face was devoid of all emotion as she carefully drew the
bow across the strings, the soft, sad notes pouring out from the
instrument and circling about her. She could almost feel the
invisible power of her music swirling around the room, ruffling her
school uniform.
Why? She had always asked herself that, but she'd never really
found even half an answer. Why WAS Vera destined to be something more
wonderful, more substantial, than she would ever be? Her half-lidded
aqua eyes ached painfully, and she drew them shut. Vera would always
be more important, more powerful, and more... Her mind couldn't reach
the right word. More...alive, perhaps? She let out a sigh and moved
her bow quickly, covering sixteenth notes with much grace and skill.
Her mother had once, long ago, told the two girls of Sailors
Uranus and Neptune, their grandmothers. And she'd smiled and said
that eldest daughters always became Sailor Scouts. And that had
excited the smaller, brown-haired Hartford child, even if she wasn't
the oldest. But it had scared her blonde older sister.
And now, the proverbial tables had turned. Vera was ready to
accept her destiny... It was in her eyes, in her movements, and even
in the way she picked the "Sailor Stars Song" out on the piano every
few days. She was changing, changing in that she knew the truth, and
she was ready to take in all that being a soldier encompassed.
And, as for her...
Suddenly, the piano began to play, and Vesta nearly leapt out
of her skin.
Long, slender fingers flew across the keys, picking out an ever-
familiar song.
Frowning, the younger girl set down her violin. "What in the
world do you want?" she questioned of her sister, brushing a strand
of chestnut hair from her face.
Ever solemn, her elder sister continued her song, placing down
chords, eighth notes, and harmonies without music, as though she'd
known the tune her entire life.
"Don't think I'm not frightened," Vera stated plainly, her
copper eyes staring down at the white keys as she spoke. "I'm
terrified, little sister, and I don't want to have to be a Uranus
without her Neptune."
The brunette blinked confused teal eyes. "Oh?"
"'Don't give up, for tomorrow a Sailor yell,'" sung her sister
along in a mysterious manner, her deep voice echoing. "'For sure, I
will catch it, the Sailor Star; this vow reaches to the end of the
galaxy.'" She plucked down note after note, pulling them out of the
blue, hitting unmarked flats and sharps in just the right places. "We
both share the same destiny, my dear sister." She glanced at the
shorter girl, a frown crossing her face. "We are both fighting for
the same cause."
Settling down on the very edge of the piano bench, the younger
girl improvised some harmonies over her sister's song. "Smile then,
Vera," Vesta responded softly, her eyes studying the older teen's face
for any and all signs of emotion. "Smiling is a part of life."
The blonde let the slight curve of a grin touch her pink lips,
but its life was as a flower's and soon faded away. "Promise me,
Vesta, that we'll always fight together."
Fight together? The brunette pressed her lips together in
thought, her free hand finger-combing her long tresses idly as she
added chords above the melody on the piano. Was she really one of the
destined ones? Was she made to be a Solider, as well?
A Uranus always had her Neptune.
"'This vow reaches to the end of the galaxy,'" nodded Vesta
sternly, a smile crossing her face. "We, as sisters, will ALWAYS
fight together."
Her sister smiled as well, her face lighting up for the first
time in a long time. "That, dear sister, is good to know."
And the last chord of a song about destiny echoed heavily
through the room, ringing freely.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"And he's so infuriating!" she fumed, gulping down mouthful
after mouthful of hot mocha as her breath swirled through the air of
the winter evening. It was a chill early evening, not as chill as it
could have been but not as warm as either of the women would have
liked it.
They stood together, side-by-side, in front of the small coffee
shop, leaning slightly against the large picture window of the café
as they waited for a city bus. They were startlingly, amazingly
different in looks; one was thin and short, with very pale skin but
strikingly dark black hair and vibrant purple eyes, whereas her
companion was taller, with a more muscular frame and chin-length
brown/gold tresses. But she was livid with someone or something, and
the scowl on her young face proved it.
And yet, they were sisters, bound by destiny in a way that no
blood relatives could ever explain.
Chuckling, the severe-looking one sipped her chai tea, both
listening and not listening to her younger companion. "If I didn't
know better," she responded to the angry comment, smiling over her
drink toward the nearly deserted Tokyo street, "I would think you and
Eric were Mom and Mom. Period."
"And what's THAT supposed to mean?" grumbled Haley Hartford,
huffily brushing her bangs from her aqua eyes. "It's not like I MEANT
to pick a man with a personality SO much like Momma Michi's!" She
scowled at her own phrase. "Ugh, the girls are both in their teens
and I'm STILL using the saying 'Momma Michi.'" Sighing, she took a
long swig out of her paper cup, shaking her head as she did. "It's
disgusting, sometimes, but I really do miss them both. A lot."
With a gentler, more sedated smile, Hannah nodded her head a
bit. "So do I," she admitted softly, watching her steamy breath curl
over itself in midair. "It's lonely, sometimes, my being on my own
without their help at all..."
Her sister drew in a sharp breath. "I'd forgotten!" she
exclaimed, gaping at the older woman. "You're the last Mistress! It
must be dreadfully lonely!"
There was a long pause as the last Planet Mistress, the
Mistress of Saturn, took a long sip of her tea. Her violet eyes
glanced at a streetlight as it slowly flickered on, bathing the area
in its warm glow. Her pale lips pursed gently into a line, but she
finally managed to look at her companion.
"There's an old order," she stated plainly, a certain wistful
gleam in her mysterious gaze, "and there's a new order. There's good.
There's bad. And then, there's me." She pursed her lips again,
glancing quickly away, focusing on the concrete below her shoes. "The
Mistress Saturn, armed solely with an heiress and a destiny, trapped
on a planet that never loved her." She sipped her drink demurely,
suddenly looking more like a small child than ever before, short and
harmless and lost.
"But..." She sighed and a slight grin crossed her face. It was
sad, but yet hopeful as she turned her face to the sky. "But that's
okay. I'm alright." Her gaze darted to Haley's face, eyes locking. "I
might live to see my older daughter happy. I might live to see my
younger daughter married. And that's what I have to care about, now."
The teal eyes that stared into hers were confused, brown eyebrows
were knitted, and she chuckled. "Life is like a mystery novel," she
reminded her younger sibling. "You never know the outcome until you
turn the last page. It's a story."
Her sister smiled a bit, shaking her head. "I think that it's
more like a series of books," she disagreed thoughtfully, her lips
parting as she took one last swig of her drink. "I think it goes on
and on, like you said, but I think it's never all the way over."
Hannah raised an eyebrow. "But if we're not on the last page,"
she questioned, "where are we?"
With a wink, the Galactic Sailor of the Comets lobbed her cap
into a nearby garbage pail. "I think," she responded, grinning, "that
we're in the middle of the epilogue."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was dark out. Quite dark, actually, that strangely eerie
sort of dark that was so vehemently black that it made you want to
shiver and be held in the warm arms of someone precious. It was the
sort of black darkness that made you want to curl up and die. It was
terrifying...
She, on the other hand, was perfectly at one with the darkness
as she sat at the bedroom's window seat, grading essays by pale
lamplight. She had learned long ago that her mate, the lovely saint,
couldn't sleep without the aid of near-complete darkness, and she had
learned to indulge in the quiet peace that that darkness brought. It
was amazingly relaxing, the blackness was, with a certain refreshing
silence to it all...
Or maybe that was just her nature. She had often pondered on
this, her sister and her love laughing as she wondered aloud the full
extent of her nature, as an heiress, and she had sighed her little
sigh and had her hair ruffled for it. It was, after all, her nature
to love the black...
"Delaney," groaned a deep--yet feminine--voice from the bed,
and purple eyes glanced away from their duty to the long, stretched-
out woman in the bed. Her burgundy hair flowed across the pillows and
bedsheets like a sea of sorts... A slight smile kissed pale lips as
the woman in the bed rolled over onto her side and opened a single
emerald eye. "Will you come to bed already? It's past midnight."
The raven-haired one widened her smile and leaned back against
the window, her eyes flitting back to the paper before her. "Soon,
Sharon," she responded casually, her red pencil flying across the
essay, marking errors and correcting mistakes. "Go to sleep."
Her mate growled. "But, 'Laney..."
"I know, I know," responded the older of the two women,
chuckling slightly at her friend's antics, "'all work and no sex
makes Delaney a dull girl.' Right?"
Curling up in the thick purple quilt, the other woman closed
her eyes and let out a sigh, smiling a bit. "Or a single girl,"
quipped Sharon lightly, snuggling into the sheets. "After all, I
think Rhea is...still...[yawn]...single..."
Delaney shook her head and switched off the small lamp at her
side, sitting silently in the darkness of the bedroom. The moon was
just now peeking out from behind the thick winter clouds, sparkling
slightly into the bedroom. Violet eyes rose to meet that moon, to
exchange unsaid words with that orb's mistress, to take in the
awesome power...
And yet the only thing that came to her mind was destiny.
What was destiny? She glanced at the still, now-sleeping form
in the bed, trying desperately to understand. If Destiny was a novel,
then the Sailor Soldiers would be the protagonists, utopia the
setting, evil the antagonist, and Sharon and Rhea the plot devices.
If Destiny was a highway, the Senshi would be the cars, evil the road
blocks, utopia the exit they were looking for, and Sharon and Rhea the
lampposts. If Destiny was a computer game... If Destiny was a
flower... If Destiny was a CD...
And the list went on and on. Sighing, she rose, crossing to the
bed and sitting on its very edge. A befuddled hand from her mate
reached forward, groping for and finding the warm lap of the
Saturnian heiress. Delaney smiled sweetly at the small hand with its
long fingers and enveloped it in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Whatever destiny was, it was leaving out the people she cared
about most. Her lover and her sister.
It hadn't been so obvious when she was younger. In fact, she
had never really cared about becoming a soldier when she was younger.
After all, back then, the Galactic Sailors had still been quite young
and definitely not ready to have children. And even after her cousin,
Vera, had been born... And even after the Princesses of the Solar
System had been born... It hadn't mattered. She'd had schools, and
grades, and parties with her sister and best friends to worry about,
and that certainly didn't leave time for destiny!
Then, she'd graduated high school, and suddenly the world had
been cold and dark as night for her. She was expected to move away
from home, to go to college alone, to leave her parents, and sister,
and 'Great-Aunt' Susan and Susan's three children...
But then, for some reason, Sharon had come to the rescue. She
had been a ridiculous, spunky, hotheaded sixteen-year-old with an
impossibly wild talent for cheering anyone up. Within a week, she had
fixed the world's woes, or so thought Delaney. And then they'd gone
out one night, just like friends did, and then they were kissing, and
then...
The hand in hers stirred, and she snorted in amusement. The
girl had read her mind from that moment on.
But had it been destiny? Had fate really ordained that they
fall in love? Or had it been just the whim of the gods that they
meet...
Or did it matter? She let free the hand and sunk into the bed,
lying atop the covers as she watched her girlfriend sleep. It was a
blissful silence, the taller woman's chest rising and falling in an
even beat, the soft breathing as she frolicked through her dreams...
Sharon Chiba, a tall, silly woman with a love of life.
Rhea Hartford, a short, frail young woman with a sugar-sweet
heart.
Brushing a strand of hair of her partner's cheek, Delaney
smiled. It didn't matter. Destiny didn't matter. Even if it was a
novel, or a CD, or a game, or a road, or a million other things, and
even if it hadn't had a thing to do with her being paired up with the
single most adorable person on Earth... Nothing mattered.
She loved Sharon.
She loved Rhea.
And THAT was the important part.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

She sighed miserably, wiping her teary eyes as she stared at
the computer screen. The whiteness of her word-processing program and
the blackness of the blinking cursor almost mind-numbing. Dumbly, she
punched the little square button on her monitor, burying her face in
her hands with a soft sob of despair.
'Why me?'
The light from the computer shut off, the room grew dark. A dull
silver glow, the moon glimmering through green-white curtains, gave
an eerie quality to the scene as the woman tried to retain her sanity.
'Why, why me? Why must I be the one with the greatest destiny?'
In her mind's eye, she could remember being a tumultuous
teenaged girl, her silken tresses sheared short and her eye makeup
heavy as she stood across the kitchen from her mother. The woman,
always cool and collected, never responded to the scathing, screaming,
irrational questions of her daughter. She could even remember her
brother, standing in the doorway as she roared at the calm female
influence, shaking his head.
Until there was one time, one time where she had let it all
loose. She'd been seventeen in both body and consciousness but
fourteen in years, and her mother had forbade her to go to the senior
prom. She'd had all the emotions of a hotheaded teen, even if she WAS
younger than the rest of her class, and the pretence that she was
truly a high-school senior had especially bewitched a strange,
charming young basketball player. She'd fought and fought over it,
despite the urgings of her father and brother to let it go, and in
the end... There were more important things, the adult had rationally
explained, than little dances. She was still child, and still had the
life experiences of a fourteen-year-old, and was still behind in the
terms of--
'But mother!' she had pleaded at the top of her lungs, colorful
eyes filling with tears. 'I have lived through things that most humans
would never dream to live through!'
'Maybe so,' her mother had said, 'but that still will never
compare to what I've gone through.'
And, in the end, where had all that fighting gotten her?
Well, she was twenty-nine years old now... Twenty-nine going on
eternal. She was just another one of the many inhabitants of Crystal
Tokyo, that supposed utopia of perfection... She was a graphic
designer, not a bad job, and she was trying to get a minor degree in
history, just for the sake of it...
And now, instead of writing her term paper, she was sitting in
the dark, feeling sorry for herself.
Her fists clenched. Her tears came flowing back to the surface.
Her lips pressed shut.
Her mother would have been ashamed.
She had nothing that her mother, the perfect person, would have
had. She didn't have a firm grasp on that unobtainable ideal that some
would call 'love...' She didn't have hope or even a bit of optimism
for the future... After all, what was the future? It was another
reality, parallel to theirs, with more senshi and more battles and
more evil and more trouble for more Moon Princesses. Hey, maybe if
they all got far enough into the future, it would be the past again
and they could fight Queen Metallia!
Her lips curved into a slight smile, before breaking open in
laughter. High-pitched, shrieking laughter. It was manic laughter, the
kind of laughter that people going completely insane laughed.
She paused, freezing. Her head was tilted upward, and her eyes
had been closed, and she gave the impression of one utterly and
thoroughly lost to her own insanity.
Insanity...
"You're not insane," chided a voice as more light poured into
the room, and she didn't need to turn around to know that there was a
young man standing at the window behind her. No, she didn't need to
turn to see the auburn-black tresses that fell into purple eyes or
the sloppiness of his favorite blue dress pants or the untied tie
that dangled around his neck.
But she did turn anyway.
He was looking out the window, those enchanting violet eyes
that had so captured her years before staring out at the highest
spire of Crystal Palace. He was silent, almost stoic, neither smiling
nor frowning.
"Insanity doesn't suit you, Aeris," he continued, as though
there had been no pause. "You're just lonely, and you need some
love."
And that was all she needed.
"Damn you, Joshua Yuuichirou," she swore in a low tone, her
fingers gripping the back of her chair as she glowered across the
bedroom at him. It was a tiny room, maybe four meters in diameter,
really only big enough for a bed, dresser, and computer desk, and she
had no problem meeting his gaze. Eyes locked, hers as dark and
unforgiving as his were kind and loving.
She felt her determination waver, but she fought the doubtful
feeling away.
"You can't just leave well enough alone," she continued icily,
the deep hatred to her voice something that not even Evil Queen
Ginnie had been given the opportunity to hear twenty-five years
previous. It was said that the voice of a hate-filled Pluto could
drive even the most placid human being to insanity.
She was aiming for just that.
The young man leaned back against the white-painted wall, as
though he was challenging her. Perhaps he was.
Her fist tightened further. "I am Pluto," she stated plainly,
her glare turning more livid with every beat of her breathing. "I am
the Guardian of Time and the protector of the Solar System, Sailor
Pluto." A lump rose in her throat as he continued to stare at her,
his smirk melting into a sweet, caring smile. "I have no place in my
soldier's heart for love."
Wordless, Josh stepped away from his place against the wall to
stride toward her. She didn't move so much as an inch, her chest
rising and falling in ragged, weak gasps. But he could see it in her
eyes, those normally purple-blue-green-yellow-gold-bronze-pink-red-
white-gray-silver-brown eyes that were now a narrow shade of black.
Even if she still looked like something out of a fantasy novel, even
if her expression fit the saying 'Hell hath no fury like a woman
scorned,' he could see it.
She had already given in.
As soon as he reached the space directly before her, he stooped
down a bit so that their eyes were only a few centimeters apart.
Purple met black, and black flittered for a moment back to their
original, all-colors-and-none tone as the woman gave in to that
enchanting gaze.
Her breath tickled his lips.
"Aeris Lynne," he whispered, his voice like a gust of wind on a
spring day as he stood before her, "I am not asking you to love me."
Her gaze never wavered, but he could practically feel her mind
as it searched for an explanation to his seemingly random comment. He
smiled.
"I just want you to let me love YOU."
There was a pause, and then her lips were on his, tasting,
caressing, feeling, pushing, pulling, teasing, wanting, needing,
being... She tossed her arms around his neck, pressing her smaller
form against him, her body throwing him onto the bed with a ferocity
that he'd scarce even dared to dream about.
As she pulled away his tie, gentle lips sucking his jawbone and
then neck with a certain eager passion that he'd never found in the
young woman. Through ragged, lustful breaths, he managed to find her
chin in his hands and bring her face to his.
"Aeris," he croaked out, overcome with a need he didn't know he
had, "I thought that you couldn't feel love."
She smiled slightly, lowering her head just long enough to give
him a small taste of her sweet lips. "Who said anything about love?"
she questioned, pulling away just a centimeter as she lay atop him,
body pressed against his.
Time seemed to stop for a brief moment, a single sentence in an
ageless voice drifting across conciseness for a moment.
'There is a certain tradition amongst Plutos...'
And then Joshua rolled them both over, entangling his hands in
hunter tresses, drinking passion from ruby red lips...never willing
to let go.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was dark as she sat alone on the balcony, her elbows resting
on its white marble railing as she stared out at the stars. And at
space.
She never used to complain about her life. After all, her
personal duty as a soldier was finally over, as she had sometimes so
wished it to be, and she'd reveled in that fact. It was sweet freedom,
and every day as Queen of the Solar System was a new kiss, a new hug,
a new loving caress in the marriage of herself and her destiny. But
now, with tomorrow so close at her heels, nipping so often at her
bare feet, she felt that maybe it would have been a better divorce
than marriage...
Her daughters were progressing nicely in their training. They
were both decent princesses, Selene more so than her more athletic
twin, and--differences aside--they would soon both show their good as
soldiers as well as princesses. They could easily serve as the twin
soldiers of the Moon; there had never before been two Sailor soldiers
for the same planet, but there was always a first time for everything.
Precedent had to be set, in many cases, by the Galactic Sailors.
Ah, the Galactic Sailors. She brushed a strand of rosy hair
from her face, smiling at the memories she'd shared with her best
friends. They had all been her very best friends, some more than
others, and every day they'd shared brought another twang of sadness
to her soul. She was so busy with her life that she didn't ever keep
in touch...
But life didn't stop just because she wanted it to, did it? She
pursed her full lips, considering this. They were the first Galactic
Sailors, they were a race all their own, but they couldn't control
the fate of the world just after having a bad day. Fate, destiny,
love... They had had a choice, way back then, twenty-eight years
previous, and they had chosen fate and destiny. The love part had just
come as part of the deal.
Life didn't stop. It never had. They would embrace it, and
embrace the coming Eve of Mistresses, and they would live their lives
as best they could.
And that, thought the Queen of the Solar System, Serenity IV,
was the most important thing in the entire universe.
Just living.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

She stared at herself in the mirror, crystalline eyes staring at
her reflection in doubt. Her hair, normally ratty and unkempt, was
pulled into two straight, chest-length braids, one on each side of
her head. A few, curly strands had escaped and sprung out from her
temples, giving her an orange-gold halo of sorts.
A navy-blue skirt, pleated, hung limply from her thin hips,
flowing all the way down to her calves where it should have stopped
at her kneecaps, if not sooner. Her blouse, however, was a few inches
too short, being as it showed both her flat stomach and the three
places where the skirt's waist had been pinned to keep it from
falling straight off.
"That's it," she stated blandly, raising her arms to remove the
blouse. "I ain't goin'."
In one deft movement, Phoebe Urawa had pounced on the girl,
tugging the shirt back to its proper place and firmly holding it
there. "Trinity, I am NOT letting you stay home from school," she
reprimanded, setting her ice-colored eyes into a glare while she
stared at the child using the full-length mirror. "You haven't been
educated properly yet, and it's time to start."
Tossing a braid indignantly, the child snort. "I've gotten
teached just fine!" she retorted stubbornly, then frowned. "Oh."
Alice chuckled, taking up a seat on the edge of her bed. They
were all in her and Todd's bedroom, as they had been since six that
morning. As enthused as the golden-red-haired stranger had been about
getting to live in a nice house with a friendly group of people...
Even if part of the deal with her newfound guardian WAS to haul off
and travel all the way to Paris in less than a month... Whatever went
on, that was fine. No more that what was set, and the plan would go
all the way to being fun.
But SCHOOL?
"If it's about the uniform, I'm REALLY sorry," Alice sighed,
brown eyes staring at the bright silver safety pins and the few,
makeshift hemming stitches at the bottom of the skirt. "Elara's a
little taller than you, and I guess she was taller back in eighth
grade, too."
Phoebe wrinkled her nose a little and bent over, studying the
shapely, if thin, calf muscles of her 'daughter.' "You've got jazz
dancing legs," she commented, pulling the skirt up to the girl's
thighs and studying in turn her knees and the overall shape of her
legs. "Short, muscular, with defined knees..." She nodded to herself,
straightening up. The look in her eyes was that of a dog trainer
examining the latest champion. "Definitely."
Trinity scowled. "Dancing?" she questioned doubtfully. "But I
thought that we was talkin' 'bout the uniform..."
The two adults laughed, and the blue-braided one gingerly
placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry," she chuckled,
her high voice sweet and somewhat soothing. "School will be fine, and
Alice will have plenty of time to hem ALL of Elara's old school
skirts in the coming weeks."
Raising a gold-red eyebrow, the child cocked her head to one
side. "But ya said..."
"Trinity!" trilled a soprano lilt from the next room, and
within a few seconds the brown-haired Elara had poked her head in the
doorway. The smile in her bright chestnut eyes almost radioactive.
"We're going to be late to school if you don't hurry up!" She was
gone in a flash of white school blouse, calling for her brother.
All three females filed out of the room, Phoebe lightly pushing
her heiress the whole way. When they got to the front foyer, Elara
and her brother Nicky were both already there, pulling on their shoes
in a frantic race to get out the door. Sighing, the newly enrolled
eighth-grader slipped on her black loafers, a casual nervousness
about her.
"You think you can make it?" asked the wavy-haired brunette
mildly, raising her eyebrows.
For what was possibly the first time that morning, Trinity
smiled, her crystal-blue eyes sparkling. "I think so," she nodded.
And then, in what almost seemed to be organized chaos, the
three children were out the door--Elara giggling, little Nick whining,
and Trinity, ever emotionless, trying to take in her new world
without feeling.
It failed, and the hints of the smile remained pasted on her
face even after the door slammed shut.
Alice collapsed onto the bottommost step of the Walker's front
stairwell, sighing in exasperation. "Now you know what it's like to
have kids," she complained sourly. "Never a dull moment."
"Maybe so," responded the braided-one, seating herself on the
edge of a small oak table nearby, "but I have to admit that I'm still
jealous."
Her friend blinked. "Jealous? Why?"
Phoebe shrugged. "I may have Trinity, now," she responded, her
lips pursing as she tried to think of the right words, "but it
doesn't really mean she's my daughter." With a shake of her head, she
let one tear roll down her face. "The only way for me to really
fulfill all this is to leave Paris. Right?"
Gulping, the auburn-tressed one gazed up at her best friend.
"Oh Pheebs! I didn't even think of that!"
"In the long run, it'll be a good thing," continued the
actress, as though she'd not heard the sympathy from her companion.
"Sari and I--as beautiful and witty as she is and as much as I love
her--aren't meant to be together." A pink tongue wet pink lips.
"After all, every relationship I've been in since day one has crashed
and burned... Except for our friendship, of course." She glanced over
at Alice, bright ice-blue eyes glittering, full of unshed tears.
"That's all that matters. The friendship of the Gals."
"Oh, Phoebe..."
Smiling slightly, the braid-haired one looked up at the ceiling,
staring straight at the rotating fan above her. "The Gals. The
heiresses. And the love that we're supposed to share." She turned
back to her companion, all the tears gone. "And for that, I'd leave
anyone."
Without words, Alice stood. Her face was a mask of combined
strength and sorrow, a picture of the empathy she felt with her
friend. The empathy that they were supposed to share.
"Alice, I'd do anything for you guys. And I mean it."
And, silently, the auburn-waved one pulled her best friend
into a tight, tight hug.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

She stood in front of the full-length mirror, her thin,
adolescent form almost disgusting to her as she stared at her
reflection. She was so boring, so plain and absolutely shapeless...
Even the same silver gown, that same sign of being a Silver Star
princess that her older sister filled out so incredibly well, hung
limply from her tiny shoulders and flowed loosely to the floor.
Whereas her wonderful older sister, Elder Princess Callisto, looked
voluptuous and debonair in her gown, she looked like a worthless
schmuck.
Then again, if the shoe fit--
"Don't beat yourself up like that," chided a small voice, and
she didn't have to look down to know that a fat old calico cat was
staring up at her. Well, she saw the cat, inwardly, as fat and old,
even if the Silver Star Guardian was just about the single most able
creature on the planet. In her opinion, Orion was cynical, cranky,
and full of a certain kind of spite that really unhinged her. Of
course, there was always the chance that her way of looking at things
was wrong, and then...
"I can too beat myself up," groused the redheaded girl, vainly
trying to pile her straight scarlet tresses atop her head and then
grimacing wickedly as they cascaded back down to their proper level,
resting at her chin. Her cobalt eyes glowered at her own reflection.
"After all," she continued after a brief pause, "I'm not as good and
kind as Calli is."
The cat rolled her green eyes, leaping onto the mirror-side
vanity and shooting one of her patented 'looks' at the young teen.
"You're nothing like Callisto," she argued, irritated, "so don't try
to compare. You've got your father's charming looks and..." She
shrugged. "Well, I don't know which side the inferiority complex
runs in, your mother's, most likely, but you've got that too."
Sighing, the feline shook her head. "And, as for the temper, it's a
Mina thing that you inherited, you'll learn to cope wi--"
"SHUT UP!" roared the girl suddenly, turning on the cat with
all the ferocity of a large lion. "Just shut up and leave!" She
collapsed to her knees, near tears, no longer bearing to look in the
mirror. "Don't you understand at all, Orion? Don't you even
understand the tiniest thing?"
There was a long silence, sorrowful and heavy, as the girl
sobbed into her long silken skirts. The cat, her guardian and the
guardian of her family, stared gaping for a long moment, unsure what
to say. Certainly, this wasn't the iron-willed Titania before her!
Surely, there had to have been some mistake...
Then, she smiled. " 'If a man does not keep pace with his
companions,'" the animal quoted knowingly, her voice resonating
through the chamber, "'perhaps it is because her hears a different
drummer.'" The girl glanced up, confused and amazed, tears dripping
down her pale cheeks and onto her glittering gown. "'Let him step to
the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
Titania Umino blinked. "What?" she gaped, staring at her small,
furry companion.
"Henry David Thoreau," responded Guardian Spirit of the Silver
Star, Orion. She smiled sweetly, hopping from her perch to stand
right before her young charge. "You have to understand, Tita," she
continued, almost smirking, "that everyone's different. We all have
different hopes, different destinies, different fears. Some cross
over, but some don't.
"There's a different beat for everyone." She sighed, her smile
growing wistful, sad, as she stared at the thirteen-year-old girl
before her. Beautiful, tear-filled blue eyes stared back, much like
the sad eyes of one certain Silver Star Queen millennia upon
millennia ago. The same kind of blue eyes, the same shape and quality,
had cried for the unborn prince and princess of a kingdom that was
ending...
She smiled. Titania would grow to someday look much like her
grandmother, Molly. "You," she addressed the girl, turning her face
to the great blue skies that could be seen through the bedroom
window, "just need to find your beat. There's a lot of them to chose
from, and you've just got to embrace that choice."
Brushing a strand of hair from her face, the girl frowned
slightly, completely baffled by the change in manner of her feline
friend. "But, Orion," she breathed, staring, "how in the world will I
know which beat is mine?" The cat looked back at her, and she could
feel the fear well up in her chest. "How will I know that I've found
my drummer's beat when everything else is so confusing and muddled?"
Smiling, the calico cocked her head to one side, as though
challenging her young friend. In a way, she was. "I don't know," she
admitted with a shrug. "It's all uncertain for you children, all
eleven of you, but I somehow think you'll make it as soldiers."
A blink of stunning cobalt eyes. Orion smiled. Just like
Molly... "But, Orion..." gulped Titania, a good degree of excited
nervousness to her already wavering tone. "I'm not... I'm just...
Calli is..."
Orion raised her face to the sunlight again, breathing in the
crisp sweetness of the winter--and the coming spring. Spring would
bring rebirth, renewal, and...
"You, Titania Kyoko," she stated plainly, her silver sigil
sparkling on her brow, "will be a very fine Sailor Polaris."
And, for what was one of the first times in months, Titania
smiled.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

The darkness of night enveloped her slender form as she laid
alone in the large poster bed, a single hand resting on her belly.
Above her, through the skylight, she could see the dull sparkle of a
silver moon hidden behind gray clouds. Clouds... Weren't clouds the
symbol of Heaven?
Ah, but she could never go to Heaven. Her bloodlines were
tainted with the sin of the mortal flesh... She was more human than
angel, actually, something that had been true also for her mother and,
sadly, her mother before that. It was the way of the Angels of the
Moon.
Her gray eyes closed as she idly stroked the silken fabric of
her nightgown. It couldn't be too late at night, perhaps midnight,
perhaps earlier, and she could hear the clatter of indulgent priests
and priestesses tromping down the halls of her palace, back from
their midnight trysts or drinking parties. Her nose wrinkled
involuntarily; was no one serious about their learning?
No. No one ever had been. She sighed sadly, feeling the small
stirring of the life inside her. She wasn't due for another good four-
and-a-half months, but she could FEEL the child within her... Her
daughter...
Arael... The angel of birds...
That would be her name...
She took a deep breath, the scents of cherry blossoms and
vanilla filling her nostrils. Her eyelids were slowly getting heavy,
and she knew that there would be black bags beneath her gray eyes,
come the morn. But she didn't care. Her mind was racing, racing with
so many thoughts and cares and worries that she couldn't control and
would never be able to control, like...
Like the future of the universe...
Like her daughter's happiness...
Like how the coming soldiers and their mothers would fare...
Like what was going to happen...
Like when it was going to happen...
Like how it was going to happen...
Her fists clenched, her fingers icily cold against her palms.
She could feel her shoulders start to shake, her chest rising and
falling in shuddering breaths. She had been calm just moments before,
seriously calm, and now...
She was falling apart! She was weak, weaker than anyone else,
weaker than even the shakiest of the Galactic Sailors, sorry and sad
and pathetic and--
"Mistress Ambriel?" questioned a soft, feminine voice from
beyond her chamber door, the voice of one of her many students. There
was silence for a long moment, then, as though the girl beyond was
debating whether or not to finish her statement.
Silence...
"I would just like to assure you that everything's fine,
tonight, and that you don't have to worry."
Sighing, the High Priestess of the Silver Moon smiled up at the
ceiling. Maybe THAT was her problem. Maybe she just worried too much.
"Thank you," she whispered, very doubtful that the girl could
hear her as footfalls echoed down the hallway. "Thank you."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

Neo-Queen Serenity II, the girl who had once been called Serena
Tsukino, strode slowly across her aerial, fantastic castle, high
heels clicking on the white marble floor of her open-air hallway.
It never rained in Heaven. It never snowed or sleeted or even
became overcast. Each morning was heralded by the bright glimmering
of a perfectly spherical yellow sun. Each night was alight with a
million bright, silvery stars. And the time between brought only blue
skies and white cumulus clouds, with the sun never ceasing to glitter
the color of gold.
And there, in Heaven, were warriors. They were not as young as
they used to be, nor as strong as they used to be, nor as happy as
they used to be. Their home was the Earth, the place where their was
a constant unbalance of power, of good and evil, the place where
everything shifted daily and nothing remained the same. They couldn't
be truly happy without that world, and yet... And yet, they survived.
She stepped into the courtyard of her palace, white dress
shining in the sunlight as she gazed across the flower-filled area at
her friends. Her azure eyes were all but teary as she remembered their
times on Earth.
There were the Inner Senshi of long ago, Amy, Raye, Lita, and
Mina, all sitting around a fountain, laughing and teasing as they
laid in the warm embraces of their eternal soul mates.
There were three of the mysterious quartet called the Outer
Senshi, all talking in hushed tones about one thing or another, a tan-
suited man standing nearby and sending glib comments in his wife's
direction every few moments.
And then, alone, was the past King of the Earth, Endymion, busy
watering a bush of pure, blood red roses as two cats sat nearby.
It was the ideal picture of the Silver Millennium come to life.
"It's funny, isn't it?" questioned a soft voice from behind her,
the strange Brooklyn twang to the tone familiar and soothing. "We're
all together, like we used to be, and everything is right with the
world."
She didn't need to turn around to see a head of curly red hair
held up by an aqua bow, or to see the spiral-glassed man at her side.
Serenity smiled slightly, nodding at her friend. "Maybe it's
funny," she responded sweetly, wistfully, and hopefully, "but it's
the best peace that we could have ever hoped for."
Molly Umino chuckled a bit, pursing her lips. "Yeah," she
agreed thoughtfully, "it is."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

There was dead silence in the outdoor stadium as the man stepped
onto the podium. He was only about middle aged, with short-cropped
brown tresses that were slightly dotted through with gray, and he was
dressed in the traditional deep blue graduation robes that Crossroads
School had used for generations. But the smile on the principal's
face was impossibly bright in the afternoon sun as he smiled at the
crowd.
"Today is a day of passage," he stated in a deep tone, looking
out across the five hundred odd 13th-graders that were seated before
him on the football field. "But I think that a thousand words from me
could not adequately describe this occasion. So I'm not going to
talk." There was a slight sort of dull cheer as a man known to many
as Jonathan Mokoti, the brother of the legendary Elder Queen Lyra,
glanced down at a certain blonde in the front row. "Instead, I
present to you our class valedictorian, Vera Haruka Hartford."
There was a loud cheering as Vera, glittering with the very
grace and beauty that her grandmother had held and as her mother did
hold, took her spot before the microphone. Silence watched over the
onlookers and the other students, the air growing still, but not
stagnant.
Sitting in the front row of the nearby bleachers was a
congregation of eight females, ranging from an adult woman with
shoulder-length ebony tresses and a little, golden-haired girl with
remarkable crimson eyes. There was a brunette, a Shinto priestess,
the two Elder Princesses of the Earth, a foundling with shining orange-
gold curls, and her sister. Vera smiled at that.
Her sister.
The glimmer of the sun off a tiara sparkled in the foliage of a
tree.
"You know," began the young woman, her copper eyes glistening
with unfallen tears as she started her speech, "a wise woman once
told me that, with all things, comes sacrifice. This woman, my
Grandmother Alexandra, would often tell this to both my mother and my
aunt, and it would cause a few guffaws here and there." She smiled
weakly, her pale pink lips curving demurely upward. She didn't like to
smile, but it was the way of the world. The way of life. "Everyone in
my family has heard this, and we always wanted to beam her upside the
head for it. Especially me." The glitter of the sun on metal
continued, and it caught her eye. She could just PICTURE the light
orange stone that was set in the tiara. "I never really believed
her... Until now.
"In order for us to live our lives to the fullest, we must
sacrifice a lot." She paused to send a meaningful glance toward her
friends... The friends that she'd really just discovered. "We
sacrifice five years... Five years of love, belonging, learning,
living, companionship..." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes,
catching a tear with her index finger as she did so. "None of us WANT
to make such a change, because it's hard. But it's also the way of
life. And of the living." 'Smile, Vera. Smiling is part of life.' She
let herself smile slightly, remembering her sister's wayward comment.
"The old order is to be replaced by the new, and we must embrace the
new-comers... And we must aid them..."
Her voice echoed on, through the air and trees, her timeless
words carrying up to the very sky. But in a tree, a tree just outside
the black ring of track, sat six women. They were old by some
standards, having lived forty or so years on the planet called Earth,
but they were forever locked in that eternal dance of beauty.
And all six looked on as the blonde teen, her eyes glimmering
with tears and her face both smiling and crying at the same time.
They were proud.
"I wonder is she has a double meaning," commented the blue-
braided one silently, buffing her fingernails on her sailor fuku.
"After all, with the heiresses in place..."
"Why would she bother?" questioned the auburn-haired one beside
her with the cock of an eyebrow. "Aren't YOU the one who bothers with
all the double meanings?"
The blue-haired one tossed her head, only half-forging offence.
"Aren't YOU always the idiot who doesn't think before opening that
bottomless PIT of a mouth?" she shot back quickly, the annoyance in
her unmistakable.
Another woman, this one with black tresses and a green-and-tan
suit, sighed and shook her head. "I think she meant to ask if Vera was
hinting at the Eve, Alice..." she grumbled, olive eyes rolling back
irritably.
The one called Alice, the Soldier of Light, screwed her face
into a frown. "Is it so soon?" she asked softly, almost as though she
were afraid.
"No..." replied the mother of the valedictorian, still staring
off into the distance at the speaking blonde. The sun glinted off her
tiara and its jewel, giving her a strangely surreal look. "But I see
it every day." She sighed miserably and tried to hide the concern
coming to her aqua eyes. "The Soldier is awakening within, and it's
only a matter of time..."
But she had not used the mask of a Sailor Scout in a very long
time, prompting the curly-haired blonde beside her to pat a shapely
shoulder. "Delaney has accepted the Silence Glaive with open arms,"
she informed the others blandly, "and the sigil of Saturn burns
brightly upon her brow." Pink lips pursed. "It IS but a matter of
time."
"But US?" griped Sailor Aurora Borealis, once again scowling.
"MISTRESSES?"
The Soldier of the Sun chuckled at her best friend. "We are the
'old order,' and Vera knows it..."
"But we all have out daughters," thought the Soldier of the
Comets aloud, still staring down at her older child. "Even Phoebe has
a daughter..."
The blue-haired one sighed. "Some daughter."
The Soldier of the Earth rolled her eyes a second time. "But
the point here IS..."
Silence swept over them as the last woman, oddly silent
throughout the goings on, reached up to touch a crystal around her
neck. The glistening silver brightened for but a second before
dimming, casting a glow on the faces of her five best friends. Pink
bangs just barely covered the golden moon insignia on her forehead as
she turned her face to the sunlight glittering through the green
leaves of summer. "The time, my Soldiers," stated Queen Serenity III,
"has come for us to embrace our destiny."
A sudden flash of red brought a new body, a new form, to the
group. She was tall and thin, leaning against a tall key-staff as she
stood at the foot of the oak tree. Colorful but then colorless eyes
sparked silver in the noonday sun as she glanced up at the women
before her.
The Galactic Sailor Soldiers.
"Because," she whispered, her words carrying lightly through
the air, "destiny waits for no sailor."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

And that, my friends, is all she wrote.