I'm loathing most of your history Hesitation, but then you siphon me Your potential, well I'll indulge in that Violent timing explains the aftermath No Doubt, "Dark Blue" What is it about fire that's so lovely?. . . It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to invent but never did. Or almost perpetual motion. If you let it go on, it'd burn lifetimes out. Ray Bradbury, _Faherenheit 451_ Ballantine, 1953 Malathos was growing desperate. ----If I can't break the link, then I'll steal the little brat's Sailor Crystal! When her Crystal is under my control, her energy will be mine! The link will become a closed loop, with all energy returning to me!---- Reynard heard his Master's laughter echoing inside his mind. "But, Master, she's too far away from us now. We can't do anything--" ----NO! They will not outwit me! They can't run from me! THEY CAN'T RUN FROM ME!!!!!!---- Delilah stumbled toward Reynard, eyes widening with panic. "He's building up all the energy he has left!" "I know. I feel it." Reynard closed his eyes. He couldn't stop the Master now. It was too late. "Reynard! Reynard, do something! He's going to telepo--" ----THEY CAN'T RUN FROM MEEEEEEEEEE!---- There was a flash of light, and a horrible ripping, splitting, tearing sensation. Reynard sighed inwardly. The Master was teleporting. And he was pulling Reynard and Delilah along with him. _______________________________________________________________________ Kinmokusei Story Chapter Sixteen: Holy Matrimony by Kotetsu _______________________________________________________________________ The day of the wedding dawned gray and drizzly. Hundreds of noblemen and noblewomen from around the globe flocked to the Sultan's palace to attend. The royal hall of the palace was draped with streamers and ribbons, and filled with exotic flowers of every color and shape imaginable. An altar was set up at the back of the hall; an elderly priest stood proudly behind it, bedecked in velvet robes of white and red. The Sultan himself stood beside the altar, appearing both splendidly lavish and fashionably sharp in his black satin dress robes. The crowd filling the hall murmured excitedly. Four guests, however, did not share in the atmosphere of joy and happiness. Aino Minako sat on the end of a row of chairs, face white and pale, unearthly beautiful in her flowing gold dress, but for once, not knowing and not caring how she looked. Beside her sat Kou Seiya, and beside her, Kou Taiki - both in matching dresses of sky blue and pale violet, both furiously concentrating on devising a plan to somehow sabotage the wedding in the next five minutes. Beside Taiki sat Celun di'Biar, fidgeting with her layered silk gown of pearl white and flicking her eyes nervously toward her brother, standing proudly beside the flower-laden altar. Celun leaned over and whispered to Taiki. "Please, please don't hate my brother for this. He's a very stupid man, and very vain, too. But he's not . . . evil. And I still love him, despite everything. He's my brother. And I'm so sorry that you have to see him like this, at his worst." Taiki nodded gravely. "I understand where you're coming from, but we *have* to stop this wedding, before it goes too far. However, we will avoid hurting your brother . . . if at all possible." Seiya turned toward Minako. "Daijoubu, Minako-chan," she whispered in Japanese. "We'll think of something." Minako was busily scanning all sides of the royal hall with her sharp, panicked eyes. "There are guards everywhere. There must be hundreds of them in here. We could grab Yaten-chan and run, but we'd never get past them." "We could grab Yaten and do a Sailor Teleport--" "And cause an intergalactic diplomatic incident, and possibly spark a war with Turan and all of its allies," Taiki finished. "No. Escape is not an option. We have to stop this wedding, here and now." Suddenly, organ music reverberated throughout the hall. The crowd hushed, breathless with anticipation. The doors at the front of the hall opened. The bride entered. Well, 'entered' wasn't exactly the right word for it. The bride was dragged by her arms, pulled forward by two burly guards in their formal uniforms, scowling murderously through her veil, letting her feet drag stubbornly across the ground and giving the guards no help at all, while at the same time offering no *real* resistance. The Sultan took one look at his bride, and beamed joyfully. Taiki glanced over her shoulder, and groaned, turning back around and burying her face in her hands. It was a gesture that was becoming terribly familiar to her. But she had seen, at least, that Yaten was still wearing her mirrored earrings. Taiki couldn't tell if the tongue ring was there or not, but the mirrored earrings still were. Thank goodness for small favors. Minako choked back a sob. "Oh, Yaten-chan!" The guards finished dragging the bride down the center of the gathered crowd, and rudely threw her forward. She stumbled toward the altar, then stopped, sulking, shoulders slumped, glowering at the priest and the groom alternatively. The guards quickly rushed toward the side wings of the hall. The organ music stopped, and the priest began speaking. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . . " The priest's droning, monotonous voice faded into the background as Seiya desperately tried to devise a last-minute plan. " . . . holy matrimony, blah blah blah. . . . " She could interrupt the ceremony by faking a heart attack, or a seizure. " . . . through sickness and blah blah blah . . . " She could take out the crystal chandelier hanging high above them with one good blast of a Star Serious Laser. " . . . till death do you part blah blah blah . . . " She could always blow the Sultan's head off. But that would spark an intergalactic war, and besides, it would make Celun unhappy. And Seiya liked Celun, she honestly did. Uh-oh. It looked like they were out of time. " . . . take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" "I do," the Sultan replied assertively. Taiki suddenly reached over and grasped Seiya's hand. "Seiya, do you feel that?!" A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Seiya's neck. "Yes," she breathed, barely an audible whisper. "It's getting hot in here." " . . . take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "HELL NO!" Yaten protested. The priest ignored her. "I now pronounce you man and wife." "WHAT PART OF 'HELL NO' DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!" "You may kiss the bride." "I'M NOT GONNA KISS ANYBODY--** mph!!!" Yaten was silenced as the Sultan grabbed her around the waist, pulled her roughly toward him, threw back her veil, and smacked his lips against hers. The crowd burst into cheers. Minako, however, did not join them. She was breathing heavily, and her skin was flushed and sweaty. "What's going on?! Why is it so hot in here?!" Yaten pushed herself away from the Sultan. "No! Don't touch me!" "Kiss me, my love!" he cried out joyfully, lunging forward and kissing her again. The ribbons and streamers above their heads suddenly burst into flame. The crowd began screaming. "No . . . " Taiki was stunned, disbelieving. "No, it can't be . . . She's too far away from Malathos, there's no way she could be channeling that much energy . . . " But they all felt it, all four of the Senshi standing still and stunned in the midst of the panicking crowd around them. Kou Yaten was practically *crackling* with energy. "The failsafes have collapsed again," Celun murmured. "Bloody awful timing." "But why?!" In front of the altar, Yaten pushed the Sultan roughly aside again, and stumbled away from him, clutching at the sides of her head and barely managing to avoid tripping over her own dress. The Sultan glanced upward at the burning decorations, horror and confusion alternatively flickering across his face. The priest, for his part, whimpered and dove underneath the altar, hiding and quivering in fear. The crowd was evacuating. The guards were evacuating. "No, NO!" Yaten whirled around in confusion, eyes wide and panicked. Flowers began popping out of their arrangements and flying across the hall. Her own veil pulled itself out of her hair and rocketed upward, crashing into the ceiling. Her skin began glowing, crackling with arcs of energy that looked almost electrical in nature. "DUCK!" Taiki pulled Seiya and Celun down as flowers with sharp, pointed stems darted to and fro above their heads. Heedless of the danger, however, Aino Minako gathered up her skirts and began charging forward. "YATEN-CHAN!" she screamed. "YATEN-CHAN, HOLD ON!" "MINAKO, NO!" Seiya struggled against Taiki's grip, trying in vain to pull herself up and follow the Earthling girl-- <--danger--> Seiya froze, every hair on her body standing on end. <--DANGER--> "I feel something evil," Celun gasped. "*He's* coming," Taiki said calmly. "That must be why Yaten's energy level is out of control again. The physical distance between her and Malathos has decreased." Crackling golden arcs of energy were racing across Yaten's body. Her hair began to stand on end, and her dress fluttered in an unseen wind. She was beginning to *glow* a golden yellow color. "Minako-chan, stay away from me!" "NO!" Minako raced forward, throwing her hand heavenward as she did so. "Venus Crystal Power, MAKE UP!" The Sultan took one look at his bride, muttered "Vristate ya onero yo me," and dove underneath the altar, to join the priest in his hiding place. Outside the palace, thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed. <--DANGER!!!!!!--> "There's no more time!" Seiya pulled Taiki up, and Celun joined them, pulling herself upright as she clung to Taiki's shoulder. "Ready, guys?" "Ready!" "Fighter Star Power, MAKE UP!" "Maker Star Power, MAKE UP!" "Turan Crystal Power, MAKE UP!" In front of the altar, Sailor Venus raced around Yaten's back. Before Yaten had a chance to protest, Venus had pressed her body against Yaten's back and wrapped her arms around Yaten's waist, hugging her fiercely. Immediately, the crackling arcs of energy lightning began to engulf her, and her skin glowed a matching shade of gold. "Minako-chan, what are YOU DOING?!" "Yaten-chan, you're building up too much energy in your body! I can siphon off some of the excess, but unless you start USING some of that energy, you're going to burn yourself up!" "What am I supposed to do?!" "Do something! ANYTHING! START USING YOUR ENERGY BEFORE IT CONSUMES YOU!" The flowers on the altar behind them burst into flames. The chandelier above them exploded, sending a rain of flaming broken glass and metal shrapnel pouring down upon them. The walls of the hall itself began trembling and groaning ominously. "Minako-chan . . . I . . . I . . . I c-c-c-can't c-c-c-control it . . ." "Hold on, Yaten, we're coming!" Maker called out. She, Fighter, and Sailor Turan began charging forward. They completed about three steps, before Delilah and Reynard spontaneously teleported on top of them. With equal cries of surprise and indignation from both parties, Delilah and Reynard fell on top of the Sailor Senshi, and the five of them were quickly trapped on the floor and entangled in a panicked mess of twisted limbs and bodies. A thick, dark mist began swirling around the center of the hall. Yaten could feel the energy pouring into her body, overwhelming her mind and her senses. "He's coming," she gasped, feeling panic clench around her heart. Her voice, and her mind, were back under control. But not for long. Energy still crackled around her in a halo; her hair was practically standing on end. The walls were still rumbling. Was she trying to knock them down, to send the entire structure collapsing around them, burying them all alive?! Yaten wasn't sure. She didn't know what her telekinesis was doing. She couldn't control it. She was scared. Venus squeezed Yaten tightly, desperately. "I won't let him hurt you!" "Minako-chan, let me go! He's after me, but he won't think twice about hurting you if you get in the way!" "No, Yaten-chan, I won't let go!" With a thought, Yaten forced her arms to fly away from her waist, and as Venus cried out in protest, her feet lifted off the ground, and she was sent flying backward, landing on her rump and sliding past the altar, thumping against the wall in the very back of the hall. "Forgive me, Minako-chan," Yaten murmured, more surprised than anything else that she had been able to control her powers long enough to accomplish that. Then she turned toward the seething whirlpool of dark mist, and began walking calmly toward it, heart pounding in her chest, skin glowing, hair sparking, her energy level still increasing. The mist coalesced, and began to take on the shape of a man. It began to fill out, solidify, and bleed into visible colors. Yaten instantly recognized the figure forming before her as the man from the painting that Adella had shown them of the first form of Malathos, the undead creature that had attacked the planet Cerel. It was the same hair, the same eyes, the same archaic robes, the same smolder of hellfire and hatred behind his dark irises. The mist dissolved. But the man, Malathos, stood his ground. Their eyes met. "Give me your Sailor Crystal," Malathos commanded. "Never," Yaten hissed. "Your mortal body cannot handle the energy that it is stealing from me. You are moments away from death. Your only hope is to surrender to me, before your body burns itself up." "Never," Yaten repeated, clenching her fists at her sides, feeling sparks of energy fly between her teeth as she spoke. Her insides were churning with excess energy. She felt something inside her brain simply give up, an artery or a vein or something, finally collapsing, imploding, and beginning to bleed. "You . . . You think you can resist me with these?" Malathos held out his hand, his fingers dancing across the empty air. The mirrored earrings that Yaten was wearing suddenly began to tremble violently, and began to pull outward at her earlobes, levitating sideways but pulling on her ears painfully. "These paltry witches' charms," he sneered contemptuously, "are no barrier to my power." He clenched his hand into a fist. The mirrors shattered, spraying Yaten's neck and shoulders with shards of broken glass. "Curse you," Yaten snarled, feeling an overwhelming wave of fury temporarily drowning out her fear. "I'll never surrender to you!" "Then you leave me no choice. I must take your Crystal by force." He lunged toward her. Normally, Yaten would have been quick enough to easily dodge; but at the moment, she was disoriented and almost drunk from her deadly excess of life energy; she stumbled away, but ineffectively. From the nearby tangle of arms and legs and muffled cries that was the Sailor Senshi and the minions of Malathos, Sailor Turan suddenly poked her head out. She saw Malathos flying toward Yaten. And she panicked. "NO!" she screamed. "NO, DON'T LET HIM TOUCH YOU!" Too late. Malathos wrapped his hands around Kou Yaten's neck. And then, a very strange thing happened. There was a flash of brilliant blue light. Both Malathos and Yaten screamed with pain, and blood burst from Yaten's ears. Malathos was repelled, sent flying backward, as Yaten herself tumbled back, screaming and clutching her head, howling in pain. *Something* was arcing between them. Even as they were repelled away from each other, something elastic and glowing anchored itself in both of their chests, connecting the two of them with a thick braid of pulsing, throbbing energy. "That's it!" Sailor Turan stumbled forward. "The moment of physical contact triggered a chain reaction within the link between them, causing it to both double its rate of transfer AND manifest itself in the physical world." She gasped out the words, quickly, rushing to explain. "We can attack it, now! WE CAN ATTACK THE LINK!" Yaten, however, continued to stumble backward, unmindful of the unearthly glowing braid rooted in her chest, unaware of the swirling energy vortex which was now forming around her, cognizant only of the fact that her skin felt hot enough to start burning at any moment, and that a terrible, excruciating pain was racing through her body. All rational thought ceased; she was beyond the point of even panic now. There was nothing but pain, and more pain, and fear. She clutched at the sides of her own head, turning her face upward and screaming wordlessly. The walls, and the floor underneath her, rumbled dangerously. "AAAAAAAAAAARGH! MY BRAIN IS MELTING! MY BRAIN IS MELTING!" "NO!" Malathos stumbled forward, weakly. "You can't die . . . not before . . . I can take . . . your Crystal . . . I need . . . the Crystals . . . " Turan whirled. Where were the other two Senshi?! "Hurry up -- I think she's dying!" The other two, unfortunately, could not escape Delilah and Reynard. Delilah had Fighter slammed against a wall, her fingers wrapping tightly around Fighter's neck, her face grinning triumphantly as she licked her lips. "Give your Crystal to me, before I crush your windpipe!" Fighter struggled, clawing at Delilah's hands. "N-N-Never," she barely managed to gasp. Reynard pulled on Maker's ponytail, yanking her backward. "Maker, darling, what a pleasant surprise," he greeted her amiably, betrayed only by the lecherous grin on his face. "I like the dominatrix style. It looks good on you." "FUCK OFF!" Maker snarled, flinging her hands outward and jabbing both of her thumbs into Reynard's eyes. Reynard howled with surprise and fury, letting go of Maker's hair and raising his hands to shield his own eyes. Maker took advantage of the opportunity; she rolled to the side, and kicked Delilah's legs out from underneath her. "CURSE YOU!" Delilah cried out as she tumbled to the ground, dragging Fighter with her. As they fell, Fighter arced her legs smoothly outward, and her booted feet made contact with Delilah's stomach. "OOF!" Delilah grunted, doubling over in pain. Her hands slipped away from Fighter's neck; Fighter leapt away from her and stood next to Maker, trembling, catching her breath. Fighter's eyes flickered over the glowing braid of energy connecting both Yaten and Malathos, and widened with shock. "What the heck is THAT?!" "It's the link. It's somehow become a physical thing, now. Which means that WE can blow it up, right?" Yaten clawed at her cheeks and pulled at her hair, screaming wordlessly at the ceiling. The tiles in the floor below her began to burst free of their mortar, and rocket toward the ceiling, crashing into the roof and sending a rain of dust and dirt down upon the horrified Senshi below. Fighter didn't hesitate a moment longer. They were out of time. Yaten was dying right in front of them. She knew what she had to do. She ran forward, holding out her Star Yell, taking careful aim at the glowing braid as she did so. "Star Serious LASER!!!" Her attack slammed into the braid. It frayed and quivered, but held itself together. "Star Gentle UTERUS!" The solid link stretched thin and trembled during the attack, but again remained whole. "AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Yaten screamed at the ceiling, blood bursting from her nostrils. "Sunlight Shimmer REFLECTION!" Not even Sailor Turan's attack could break the link. "What do we do?!" Fighter was close to panic. "Do we hit it again, or what?!" "No!" Maker was shouting to be heard over Yaten's screams. "It's too elastic! Raw energy alone won't do the trick. We need something solid and sharp to sever it completely--" "VENUS WINK-CHAIN SWORD!" The blonde warrior leapt into the fray, swinging her glowing yellow sword in a graceful arc above her head, severing the energy link with one clean swipe of her blade. The energy braid snapped, and instantly dissolved into nothing. Sailor Venus waved her hand, and the sword, too, disappeared. "Pretty cool, huh?" Malathos slouched toward them, weakly, but grinning triumphantly. "I'm free. I'm free! Because of the Sailor Senshi, I'm free!" Yaten, however, did not appear so lucky. In fact, she was still screaming, stumbling backward and crackling with excess energy, glowing lights and swirling winds whipping around her in an unearthly vortex of destructive power-- "IT'S TOO MUCH! IT'S TOO MUCH!" she screamed, as the flowers strewn throughout the hall suddenly burst into flames, the floor tiles continued to explode upward, and bits and pieces of the destroyed chandelier began levitating off the ground and flying in loops and swirls above her head. Maker turned toward Fighter. "The energy transfer has stopped, but she's still built up too much excess." She took a deep breath. "You know what we have to do. And don't hold back. We need to drain her as much as possible." Fighter gulped, but raised her Star Yell and took careful aim. "Right. Oh, forgive me, Yaten. I'm so sorry about this." Then her face became cold, and set. "Star Serious LASER!" "Star Gentle UTERUS!" Enveloped in blue and violet light, Yaten continued screaming. "OW, IT HURTS, IT HURTS!!!" The blue and violet light dissipated, and she was still glowing, still crackling with energy. She stopped screaming, at least; she stumbled forward, her eyes blank, her mouth hanging open in shock and surprise. Burning flowers, ceramic floor tiles, and shrapnel from the chandelier swirled above her head in erratic, faltering patterns. "Hit her again, and hit her hard!" Maker commanded. "Keep attacking her until her skin stops glowing!" "Star Serious LASER!" "Sunlight Shimmer REFLECTION!" "Venus LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK!" "Star Gentle UTERUS!" "OW! OW! OW!" Yaten cried out in shock and pain as each attack slammed into her, burning and searing the energy from her body. The ceramic tiles crashed to the ground around her. The shrapnel rained down upon her, causing her to flinch and duck, covering her head. The flaming flowers flew away from her and crashed into the far walls, where they fell, landing on the dusty stone ground and burning away harmlessly. Her telekinesis had finally deserted her. But her hair still stood on end; her skin still crackled with energy. "Again!" Maker shouted the command coldly, watching Yaten stumble blindly around in front of them. "Drain her of everything!" "Star Serious LASER!" "Venus Love Me CHAIN!" "Sunlight Shimmer REFLECTION!" Maker held back on her own attack, watching Yaten carefully. The other Senshi's attacks crashed into her, enveloping her body in gold, silver, and blue light, causing her to scream once again and arc her back, standing almost on her toes, looking for all the world as if she were being electrocuted. Then the light dissolved and the attacks dissipated; Yaten slumped forward, collapsing to her knees, no longer screaming, silent and exhausted, blood still trickling from her nose and ears, staring blankly into space, breathing slowly and shallowly. For a moment, the Senshi stood still, holding their breath. But Yaten merely sat in the center of the hall, still and quiet, staring blankly at nothing. There was no more glowing skin or flying hair or crackling vortex of energy; just Yaten, drained, exhausted, and looking rather worse for wear with her torn wedding dress and blood-spattered face. Then Sailor Turan ran toward Yaten, calling out to the other Senshi over her shoulder as she did so. "This girl is hurt - badly! But I can take care of it." She halted herself in front of Yaten, and placed her hands gently on both sides of the unresponsive bride's head. Her hands began glowing with a pearly white light. She closed her eyes, and began speaking. "Some very small blood vessels in her brain have ruptured, and the skin inside her nasal cavity and ear canals has been burnt until it was raw and bleeding." "No! Yaten-chan!" Venus cried out and lunged forward, but Maker reached out and held her back. "Please don't worry," Turan said softly, her eyes still closed. "Didn't I ever mention it to you? No, I guess not. Well, part of my powers are my abilities to *heal* minor injuries. Like right now . . . I'm draining the blood in her brain back into the ruptured veins and arteries, and knitting back together the broken vessels." Sailor Turan fell silent, and stood still, gently cradling Yaten's head between her glowing hands. Suddenly, Fighter snapped her head around. "Malathos is still--!" Here? No. Gone. She whirled around in confusion. There was no sign of Malathos, Delilah, or Reynard. "They got away!" Fighter growled. And they could have - they *should* have - attacked Malathos in his weakened, drained state. They might have just missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to defeat the undead creature once and for all. Maker let go of Venus and turned toward Fighter, gently placing one gloved hand on Fighter's shoulder. "They teleported back to their dimension while we were busy draining Yaten. I felt them go. No, don't look at me like that. I know what you're thinking; *they* were thinking the same thing. That's why they escaped while they still could. Malathos must have used the energy of his two servants to power the second teleportation. Yes, we could have attacked him. But, if you ask me, saving Yaten's life was more important." Fighter smiled, wanly. "Yeah. I guess you're right." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's still sinking in for me, just how scary that was. We almost lost her. I didn't think I could *ever* attack someone that I loved, but . . . " She shook her head. "Oh, Goddess. I feel all numb inside. I think I'm going to have terrible nightmares tonight." Maker slowly turned her head away, observing the charred, wrecked, and ruined hall around her. "Don't look now, Fighter, but I think that we destroyed the royal hall." Fighter winced. "Um, if they billed the Royal House of Kinmoku for damages, we could easily foot the bill. Right? Right?" "I hope so." Maker turned toward Sailor Turan, still holding Yaten's head and standing with her eyes closed. Sailor Venus stood beside Turan, fidgeting nervously. "Come on," she said, pulling Fighter toward the others. "Let's say hello to Yaten when she wakes up. And then bop her over the head for being such an ill-mannered bride. I mean, honestly. Almost blowing up your husband's palace in the first five minutes of the marriage? Disgraceful." Fighter giggled. "No; it's not disgraceful at all. It's our Yaten." Sailor Turan sighed softly, opening her eyes. The glow faded from her hands, and she removed them from Yaten's head, stepping away politely. Yaten's eyes suddenly cleared; she blinked, looked around, and made a small sound of surprise in her throat. "Oh . . . is he gone?" "Yes," Maker answered, "Malathos is gone." Sailor Venus clasped her hands in front of her heart and stared apprehensively at Yaten, choking on her own words, gaping silently. With some difficulty, Yaten managed to stand upright. She leaned on Sailor Turan for support; then, stubbornly, she stumbled away, pridefully and silently insisting that she be able to stand on her own. She placed the palm of one hand against her forehead and moaned. "I feel awful . . . " "You almost died," Sailor Turan said quietly. "I know. I remember everything." Yaten grimaced. "Just exactly how many people saw those streamers light on fire?" "Hundreds." Yaten swore. "I think we have a PR problem." "No," Sailor Turan disagreed, softly, but firmly. "Hundreds of people saw the fires; but there's no direct proof that *you* were the cause of those fires, miss Yaten. If we spin this right . . . If we collaborate our stories . . . We can say that Malathos created those fires. It makes sense, doesn't it? It's all part of the villain’s dramatic entrance, after all. It was just his way of announcing his arrival, wasn't it?" "Some people are still bound to be suspicious," Fighter pointed out. "They'll want to run tests," Yaten grumbled. Then she grinned, somewhat maliciously. "Let them run tests. They won't find anything. The biological failsafes have rebuilt themselves; there's nothing beyond them that can be detected by either modern technology or even the most sensitive empathy." "Yaten," Maker began sternly, "are you sure about that? I want you to be absolutely certain, before you subject yourself to any tests--" She was suddenly interrupted by the rustling of broken bricks and chunks of mortar. At the front of the hall, something was stirring beneath the altar, which sat half-buried in rubble and debris. Sailor Turan sucked in her breath sharply. "Brother!" Then, without warning, the mess of mortar and brick in front of the altar erupted outward, creating a cascade of rubble and a billowing cloud of dust. When the dust cleared, the Sultan of Turan stood at the front of the hall, no longer so resplendent in his torn, dusty robes, his fists clenched and trembling at his sides, his face twisted into a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with accusatory hatred. Slowly, painfully, he raised one finger and pointed it at Yaten. "You!" he growled. Yaten batted her eyelashes innocently and pointed at herself. "Me?" Behind the Sultan, the priest nervously poked his head out of the rubble, and watched, silently. The Sultan stomped forward angrily. "You destroy my palace! You ruin my party! You tear beautiful wedding dress of my mother!" Sailor Turan buried her head in her hands. "Oh, no," she moaned. But what happened next was more wonderful than anything any of them could have expected. The Sultan halted in front of Yaten, ripped the wedding ring off his finger, threw it down at her feet, and spit on it in disgust. "You are nothing but viper snake from foreign world! You bring disaster upon my house! So, now, I cast thee out, witch!" Yaten clasped her hands hopefully in front of her chest, her heart soaring with sudden hope. "You don't mean--" "Yes, I mean!" The Sultan spat at the ground again. "I WANT DIVORCE!" There was a moment of stunned silence. And then, much to the Sultan's chagrin, the four Sailor Senshi standing behind his ex-wife suddenly burst into a chorus of cheers and applause. Yaten smiled at him, gently, and slowly removed her own ring, reaching out to lay it softly into the palm of his hand. "Thank you," she said, favoring him with the first genuine smile that she had ever given him before. "Thank you very much." The Sultan clenched his fist around the ring, lowered his eyes, and said nothing. He struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. Well, he mused, it had been a splendid marriage . . . All five hellish minutes of it . . . Ignoring him, Yaten was quickly engulfed in a joyous bear hug from Sailor Venus, as she pulled her into the tight little circle of laughing, cheering friends. "I knew it! I knew it wouldn't last any more than a day!" Fighter was gloating as she and Maker simultaneously hugged Yaten also. Yaten blushed, uncomfortable with the crowded closeness of the three bodies invading her personal space. "Don't be so happy just yet," she muttered darkly, as Fighter and Maker pulled away from the embrace. "We still have to deal with the cleanup and the negative publicity, remember?" "Don't worry about the cleanup," Sailor Turan said gently. "My brother and I will take care of everything." "Besides," Sailor Venus winked cheerfully at Yaten as she squeezed her even tighter into her hug, "how hard CAN it be to handle just a few lousy reporters?" ******************** The problem was that the media got their hands on the recordings made by the security cameras in the royal hall before the Senshi had the chance to issue an official statement. Within hours, the images of the flaming streamers and burning flowers were all over the international news; the newscasters were in a panic. "PK" were the two forbidden letters dancing across everybody's nervous lips. The Sultan of Turan called for his ex-wife to make a press statement, and immediately. Yaten was more than happy to oblige. She smiled prettily for the reporters and the photographers, and her honest, soft-spoken, earnest tone of voice instantly won over the majority of the planet. Yes, she had experienced an episode of her latent psi powers flaring out of control. No, her abilities were *only* limited to telekinesis. What, pyrokinesis?! How silly. Fire was a trademark of Malathos; he used it to mark all of his dramatic entrances. No, the fires had been none of her doing. Yaten was very good at working a crowd. They trusted her, and they believed her. Even if she hadn't been so gosh darn cute and so gosh darn honest, they probably would have believed her anyway. After all, they trusted the Sailor Senshi. And Sailor Senshi never lied. Independently, Sailor Turan, Kou Seiya, Kou Taiki, and even the strange girl from the Sol system verified these statements. The Assembly of Turan was mostly satisfied with this explanation of the events; however, a vocal minority demanded testing the girl to make absolutely sure. Willingly and without protest, Yaten submitted herself to a series of tests by a handful of the most sensitive empaths and psi on the planet. One by one they met with her in a private conference room nestled within the ornate meeting halls of the Assembly of Turan, and one by one they mentally combed through her brain, searching for even the remotest hint of suppressed pyrokinetic powers. Yaten resented and loathed these intrusions into her mental privacy; she also resented the fact that the tests took several days to complete, and that she *should* have already returned to Kinmoku by the time the tests were finished. Because they had to deal with the PK rumors, Yaten and the other Senshi were already severely behind schedule. But despite all this, Yaten was careful to always wear a friendly smile during the tests, and she always maintained her outward appearance of being polite, friendly, and cooperative. Needless to say, it was a bit of a strain for poor Yaten. Fortunately, the tests always turned up negative. Finally, after three solid days of testing, the Sultan declared that Yaten and her companions were free to leave the planet. Yaten was in her room alone, packing up her belongings, when the final visitor knocked on her door. "Yes? Who is it?" she asked, standing in front of the door, her hand paused in the midst of twisting the doorknob. "You have a message that you need to sign for, ma'am," came the polite reply from the other side of the door. Yaten opened the door, and a blushing palace page bowed his head in greeting. He held a thin, black, plastic box out to her. "Holographic telegram from offworld, ma'am. You'll need to sign for confirmation of reception." Yaten signed for the telegram, closed the door, and sat down on her bed, the unopened box resting in her lap. she mused as she pressed the button on the side of the box, causing the lid to spring open. Immediately, she was greeted by a glowing three-dimensional hologram of a rotating, stylized eyeball . . . and two engraved letters intertwined around the eye . . . H . . . and I . . . Yaten's heart clenched in her chest. It was the emblem of the Hocksetter Institute. The emblem faded, and was replaced by a scaled-down version of an elderly gentleman's head. His face was worn and wrinkled, his scalp bald and shiny, and a few wild tufts of gray hair embellished his temples. He was wearing spectacles and a false, insincere smile. He began speaking. "Greetings, Miss Kou Yaten. I am Doctor VanHessnip, a representative of the esteemed Hocksetter Institute. You may remember me. I was assigned to your elementary school on Kinmoku Three nine years ago. I registered you and several of your classmates as proven empaths and potential future psi. Of course, we at the Hocksetter Institute make it a policy not to keep permanent track of *every* potential psi registered in our records. But, occasionally, a psi comes along that, through actions or circumstance, draws our attention to their potential abilities. One such example was three days ago. One of my aides showed me the surveillance tapes from the Turan royal palace. And that's when I pulled out your record, and began taking notes. "Now," he continued, his grin becoming less and less sincere, "this may come as a blow to your ego, but there *are* more powerful empaths than you in the galaxy. I know, because several of them work for me. One of them was present at the press conference that you gave immediately following the release of the surveillance tapes. Your mental shields may have fooled the others, but they could not fool my agent. He could tell that you were lying about something that had occurred during that wedding. Of course, there's only one thing that it would be in your interest to lie about. "Miss Yaten, I have reviewed these tapes dozens of times in the past several days. I have also reviewed and noted the tests that you were subjected to. All administered by low-level empaths, and all can be discounted as inconclusive at best. Which leads me to believe, considering all the evidence before me . . . I am led to believe that there may be more truth to these rumors of pyrokinesis than you are letting the general public know. "My dear, I know that you have heard this lecture before. And you will probably hear it again. Although now I shall be blunt with you. You may not think much of this, being a Sailor Senshi and a natural magic user. But although magic and psi abilities can achieve the same effects on the physical world surrounding us, the two are as different as night and day. Magic can be used and controlled by any fool; psi abilities are dependant upon a unique and rare biological and chemical makeup of the brain, and more often than not, CANNOT be controlled by their users. Your teachers and counselors may have led you to believe otherwise, but the blunt truth is this - psi abilities are dangerous. You are dangerous. You are a danger to yourself, and to anybody around you. And, Goddess help you, if you are lying about your brief episode of pyrokinesis - the consequences could be graver than you could ever imagine. "However," he said carefully, his grin fading, his face becoming solemn and serious, "If the story of your telekinetic abilities holds true for your pyrokinetic abilities, then your biological failsafes have already reconstructed themselves. Which means that, were my colleagues and I to come forward with a formal accusation of perjury, we would have no method of providing proof. As much as the public fears and loathes pyrokinetics, without any proof on our part, public opinion is most sure to favor your side, if we should ever come into a conflict. Miss Yaten, I hope that it never comes to that. If, in the future, your pyrokinetic abilities should ever emerge again . . . do the right thing. Come to us. Let us help you. Only we can provide you and your loved ones with safety, security, and peace of mind." The tiny holographic head leaned forward, and became partially hidden in shadows cast from an unseen light source. "Remember this, Kou Yaten. We know your secret. Even if we cannot prove it, we know your secret. We have you in our files. We are watching you." And with that, the holographic head winked away. A glowing, three-dimensional message replaced it. It blinked at her, impatiently. ERASE? REPLAY? SAVE? REPLY? With a sneer of disgust, Yaten slammed the lid of the box shut, grasped the loathsome thing in her hand, drew her arm back, and hurled it at the far wall with all of her might. It smashed into the wall, shattering into bits and pieces of broken plastic and cracked silicon chips. Yaten sat on her bed, hands clutching the comforter on either side her, heart pounding in her chest. Calm. She had to stay calm. The Hocksetter Institute had her name on file. That was no big deal; in elementary school, all children throughout the galaxy were tested, and every potential psi or empath registered their name with the Institute's archives. Ninety nine percent of those children were left alone for the rest of their lives, never to be bothered by the Institute again. However, the one percent that crossed the threshold into becoming psi talents had to register with the Institute for a second time; the even smaller percentage that somehow acquired one of the forbidden psi talents were actually shipped off to live in confinement at the Institute compounds, usually never to be seen or heard from again. They were watching her. Calm, Yaten. Stay calm. But they had no proof. That's right. And they weren't *going* to have any proof, not if Yaten could help it. Lord Abbot had said that she wasn't even going to become a telekinetic until she was in her late twenties; he hadn't even mentioned pyrokinesis. Did that mean that it was simply never going to happen? That, without the interference of Malathos, she would have lived out the rest of her life without ever tapping into her latent pyrokinetic powers? The threat behind the Hocksetter Institute's message was clear. However, that threat would never be carried out if Yaten simply never became a pyrokinetic in the first place. "You can't intimidate me," Yaten growled at the broken hologram lying on the floor across the room from her. "You have no right to intimidate me!" Now, her fear was melting away into indignant anger. "Why, if it weren't for me and the other Senshi, you'd be - you'd be dead! You hear that, you stupid little man?! If it weren't for us, you'd be nothing but a rotting star seed inside Galaxia's cauldron right now! How DARE you threaten me, you evil little CREEP!!!" Yaten took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'll be fine," she said aloud to her empty room. "As long as I never become a pyrokinetic, there's nothing to worry about. And there's not even a remote possibility of that happening for another decade or so, if it happens at all. So right now, I am . . . completely . . . fine." She convinced herself that it was true; thus, it was true. Yaten ran her tongue against the back of her teeth, tatta-tatta-tatta- tatta-tatta. It was a good, soothing sound that her barbell made against the back of her teeth. Of course, she didn't *need* her tongue to be pierced anymore. Now that the situation was resolved, she could have just pulled out the barbell and let the hole close up. Keeping her tongue pierced meant that she was, at least on a minimal level, hampering her ability to store and channel her own life energy. But Yaten didn't care. She liked having a pierced tongue. It gave her character. The energy restrictions were minimal enough to be inconsequential. With a different stud on her barbell, one chosen to have proper ritualistic significance, the energy restrictions wouldn't even exist at all. And when she transformed into her Senshi self, her tongue magically reverted back to normal, and her barbell disappeared. She knew this, because she had experimented with it last night, in the privacy of her own quarters. So all in all, the pierced tongue was harmless. Harmless, but worth keeping anyway. Without another thought, Yaten returned to packing her bags. ******************** "So, then, I guess this is it," Seiya said wistfully, a bit sadly, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. She hated saying goodbye; instead, she decided to say something else as a way of parting. "Thank you for all of your help," she repeated to Celun. "I'm just glad that I could help at all." Celun hugged Seiya affectionately. "Hey, if the Sol Report is correct, I owe you guys my life." "No," Yaten shook her head. "I owe you my life. Honestly." She shuddered at the memory of the wedding. "You saved me, you know." "Hey, I was just doing my duty as a fellow Senshi," Celun laughed lightly as she embraced Yaten. The other girl stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into Celun's arms, letting herself enjoy the affectionate gesture. "Tell your brother that we're still very sorry about ruining his Hall," Taiki apologized, blushing slightly as Celun let go of Yaten and turned to embrace her. "Um, I mean, we're sorry about the divorce, too." "*Very* sorry about the divorce," Minako giggled good-naturedly, although she dashed over to Yaten's side and clutched the other girl's wrist, playfully and possessively at the same time. They were gathered on the cement curb outside the bustling main entrance to Turan Northern Intergalactic. It was a bittersweet parting; although the objective of their mission had finally been accomplished, albeit with some difficulty, all three of the Lights were reluctant to say goodbye to Celun. "Oh, I almost forgot!" Celun rummaged around in her handbag and produced a small, velvet-lined jewelry box. "These are for you," she said, handing the box to Yaten. "My brother wanted you to have them." "Eh? What?" With Minako peering over her shoulder, Yaten slowly opened the jewelry box. Inside were two golden wedding bands, engraved with the Royal Seal of Turan. Minako sucked in her breath sharply. "They're beautiful!" For a moment, it almost appeared as if Yaten's hands were trembling. But she quickly composed herself. "Celun, I . . . I don't know if I can accept this." "My brother told me to tell you to keep them. To remember him by." "Oh." Yaten closed the lid of the box, carefully. "Okay." Minako wrapped her arms around Yaten's waist and rested her head against Yaten's neck. "Don't ever lose those rings, Yaten-chan. As long as we have them, we can never forget that for about five minutes, you actually were the Empress of Turan." "Now there are some impressive credentials," Taiki giggled. There was a moment of awkward pause. Finally, Seiya adjusted her shoulder bag one last time, and took her first step away from the curb. "Come on, we have to get going." She flashed an apologetic smile at Celun. "We have a long ways to go, and our Queen is waiting for us. Oh, and don't forget - if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can call on us. We owe you one." "Of course." Celun waved at them as they turned to leave. She watched the receding backs of the foreign Senshi fade into the crowd milling about the main entrances. She noticed that Yaten and the Earthling girl were holding hands as they walked together. Slowly, Celun lowered her hand. ******************** If there was one thing that Kou Yaten knew, it was that vast distances of space and time were no obstacle to a simple bit of written correspondence transported across the galaxy by the power of a wish. That, of course, was why a letter spontaneously appeared nestled among the Sultan of Turan's bed pillows four days later. The Sultan blinked and stared at the strange envelope, sealed neatly and addressed with flowing, aristocratic script. He was dressed in his silk pajamas and was just about to crawl underneath his bedsheets when he noticed the mysterious letter resting practically right under his nose. The Sultan sat down on the edge of his bed, reached for the letter, and held it with his trembling hands. Of course, he knew exactly who the letter was from. Suddenly, his bed felt very large, very cold, and very empty. At that moment, he would have given anything to feel her warm, soft body resting beside him. How long had it been, that he had stared at any and all photographs that he could find of her for hours on end, that he had poured over every obscure news article or bit of research that ever mentioned her, that he had written volumes of love poems praising her silver hair and gorgeous emerald eyes, that he had dreamt and yearned and fantasized about her love and her companionship? Had it been months? Years? It had started well before Galaxia had attacked either Turan or Kinmoku. And then, when his love had finally come to be with him . . . She had rejected him. He may have been a fool, deluding himself into believing that he had a chance with her. But he honestly had believed that he could win her love. He *had* to; because he *understood* her, because he knew that SHE could love and trust HIM, because he wanted her to be happy and safe and free from her burden as a Sailor Senshi . . . And then, in a fit of rage and fury and fear, he had said those cruel words to her, he had ripped off his wedding ring and spit upon it, and he had lost her forever in a split-second decision that he now regretted so bitterly, and would regret for the rest of his life . . . The Sultan paused, and took a deep breath. He slid his finger underneath the sealed flap of the envelope, and pulled it open. He unfolded the neatly-written note, and read it, slowly, carefully. There was no formal greeting, no stylized heading or courteous beginning. The note merely read, in its entirety, 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. A great Earthling writer once wrote that, and it's true. We were never meant for each other. I'm sorry about what happened. But beyond that, I can do nothing save express my sympathy for you. Anything else, I'm sure, would just prolong your pain. I know that you are a good man. You have a kind heart. You remind me, a little bit, of Seiya - very foolish, but very loving all the same. You deserve someone who can love you as much as you love her. She's out there, somewhere. Never give up hope. You will find her. Good people deserve the happily ever after endings, after all. The Goddess will guide you along the right path. I'll never forget your kind words, or the gentle way that you touched my cheek. However, I still think that you're wrong in your opinions of the Sailor Senshi. Just look at your own sister. She's not a monster, is she? None of the rest of us are, either. But I know that I can't hope to change your perspective with just one letter. I pray that Celun and the other loved ones in your life can help show you the truth. And please, always stay close to your sister. Family is so very precious and important. I never had time to hear the full story from either of you, but I sensed some sort of tension, some sort of unresolved issue, between both of you. Please, keep Celun dear to your heart, and never stop loving her. Best of luck, and blessings to you. The Sultan folded up the letter carefully, and placed it back in its envelope. He felt very cold, and very lonely. Shivering, he stood up, and walked on bare feet across the plush carpet of his bedroom. He picked up his ornate marble telephone, and dialed for an inside line. The other end of the connection began ringing. The Sultan waited, nervously. Finally, she picked up the receiver. "Hello?" "Celun. It's me. Did I wake you?" He was speaking easily now, fluidly, in his own native speech. No more embarrassing accent. Not when his beautiful native language danced across his tongue. "Brother, is something wrong?" "Yes." He squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily. He wanted to say these things to her. He had many, many things that he needed to say to her. But not over the cold, impersonal telephone. He needed to speak to her, face to face, where it really counted. "I need to talk to you," was all that he said in the end. Without hesitation, she agreed. "Are you in your bedroom? Good, stay there. I'll be right down." There was a click as she hung up the receiver. The Sultan sighed, set the phone back down, and shuffled back over to his bed. He sat on the edge of his bed, waiting, thinking. Suddenly, he didn't feel so cold or so lonely anymore. - end part sixteen -