Author's Warning:  This is based off my own warped (mostly unwritten) version
		   of UY:TSY, and what starts as an unwarped version of BGC:I
		   What's worse, I wrote it while in Basic Training for the
		   Army, on paper, without any research or checkback against
		   the source materials . . .

			Miyuki-gunsou in Illusion-land

	o/~ Oh, Luna was a Mexican
	    What the law called an Alien
	    For Comin' Cross the border with a baby and a wife o/~
	The girl sings softly, seeming to pay no attention to the teacher.  To
disprove this she breaks off the song and answers, `Thirty-two.   I think
you've lost the rest of the class, including Sheffield-san.'  She pulls
another stitch tight, then picks the song back up, o/~ Oh lets us raze, oh
help us raze, raze the prisons, to the ground. o/~  She looks about twelve, if
the observer is generous, with long green hair tied back in a tight braid,
four fingers and two thumbs on each hand and foot, and a slender tentacle
stretching from behind and below each ear.  She's using both hands and one of
her tentacles for her embroidery.

-

	`Look,' the girl growls, `I am here to work on my social skills, and
that is really it.  The only way to make me pay attention to this class is to
make me teach it.  I can't do worse than the blockhead you've got in there
now.'

	`That "blockhead" is a doctor of mathematics,' Kimiko growls back.

	`He can't _teach_,' the girl says, forcing calm, `Here,' she pulls
three official looking documents from the air, `Bachelors in Sociology and
Comp Sci, minors in math, art studio, and astrogation from Toudai,' she
indicates the first certificate, `Masters in Genetic Manipulation from,' she
makes an impossible noise that begins with a glotal stop, has a click in the
middle and ends with a hiss, the rest being a short series of growls and
grating noises that sound like they should have ripped the lining out of her
throat, `And my teaching certificate from the Tempest Consolidated School
District.'

	`I can't verify any of these, can I?' Kimiko almost makes it into a
question.

	`Tomomi-chan can verify the last two.'

	`Miss "Leftenant of the Dark Kingdom Special Police", huh?  What
proof do I have of her bona-fides?'

	`'Bout none, just like me.  Either we are who we say we are, we're
crazy, but share the same delusions, or we're some sort of aliens who are
playing with you for our own nefarious porpoises,' pause, `That just doesn't
work as well in Japanese,' she explains.

	Kimiko continues to wear her blank look.

	`Purpose and porpoise are just close enough to be a good pun in
English.''

	Kimiko scowls.

-

	`So how did you put that look on Kimiko-sensei's face?'

	`I'm taking over for Borg-sensei tomorrow.'

	`What?  How?'

	The girl interlaces her toes and stretches out her legs, `I convinced
her I was a better choice.  It won't be the first time I've tought Junior High
math.  It'll be the first time I've had to teach such an unmannerly lot,
though.'

	`Unmannerly lot?  I'll have you know that we are some of the best
behaved students in all of Tokyo.'

	`You are very loud and boisterous, and most of you don't have adequate
coping methods for dealing with school.'

	`Coping mechanisms?'

	`Yeap.  Children aren't meant to spend long periods of time sitting
around.  By middle school, a Dark Kingdom child will have learned methods to
deal with it, and pay attention during class.'

	`What's this Dark Kingdom you keep keep talking about?'

	`Back in 3159, 1993 Gregorian, a few multiverses over, King Serenity
took Queen Beryl's head, and her inner circle destroyed Queen Metallia's
focus, and Metallia with it

	`The old generals were already dead by that point, so no one contested
King Serenity's right of conquest.  She fixed the worst of the problems she
found when she took power, reinstated the Rules, and began conquering the
world.'

	`Why conquer the world?'

	`Do you trust your government?  The United States?

	`She didn't either.  She researched the reasons earlier unification
attempts failed, and saw that they failed because the were rushed, improperly
backed, or felt too much like conquest to the conquered.

	`King Serenity just announced that she'd be conquering the world,
started laying the Thor satelites into orbit, and encouraged immigration.

	`The Dark Kingdom started putting its fingers into other countries'
business, and pissed a bunch of them off.  The first time they interfered with
the US was during the Branch Davidian incident at Waco, Texas.'

	`You mean, the one where the US went after a group of religious nuts
for tax evasion, and ended up killing most of them?'

	`That's what happened here.  There, two died, everyone else was
convinced to vacate the complex, and they recieved a formal appology from the
government afterwards.  We pissed off a bunch of people in various parts of
the US government, though, so it wasn't all good.

	`We bought most of sub-Saharan Africa from their "Democratic"
governments, intervined in the former Yugoslavia, butted into the Tokyo Sarin
attacks in '61, and capped the first stage with a coupe raid on the rest of
the developed world.

	`Dark Kingdom fighter planes struck the world over, and splattered
paint rounds on most targets of value, including the limo President Clinton
was riding in.

	`In the confusion, more than ninety-four nuclear ICBMs were launched
in response.  None survived long enough to go off, luckly.'

	`How?' a girl asks in a small voice.

	`Emergency missions by Dark Kingdom fighters and Space Marines.'

	 `Wow.'

	`Yeah, some of the footage is pretty impressive.  In 2000, Baby Bush
may have won the election, and King Serenity refused to recognize his
legitimacey.  This drove the already sagging American economy into a nosedive,
and convinced the Republican government we were out to get them.'

	`Ouch.'

	`Indeed.  September, 2001, Second Impact happened.'

	`Second Impact?'

	`Large scale cataclism, melted most of the Antarctic ice pack, Black
classified, related to the "Shito" incidents of 3181.  Dark Kingdom Precogs
gave warnings, and we evacuated everyone we could.  We still had ten dead, but
nearly a billion other people died, mostly in low-lying areas.'

	`A billion dead?  Out of what, six, then?'

	`No, more like five, of whom three billion were Dark Kingdom citizens.
The alien invasions slowed poplulation growth rather sharply.'

	`Alien Invasions?  When?'

	`1938, 1956, 1986, 1988, 1993, two in 1994, and so forth.  They
tapered off after 2001.'

	`Why?'

	`'Cause we ran out of aliens who thought they'd knock off the
early-atomic civilization they'd just found out about.'

	`How?'

	`There's only so many people within sixty light years of Earth.'

	`No, how did they find out?'

	`Atomic weapons release specific energy signatures, so it's easy to
tell if someone is using them.'

	`Oh.'

	`Anyway, the "Shito" problem pretty much sunk the UN, and most of its
member governments by 3182, 2016 Gregorian.

	`I arrived in 3192, got introduced to the Special Police, had my
citizenship granted, was found a house in Thompson, which is the city on
Tempest, and got a job on my first day.'

	`Arrived?  You weren't born into this Dark Kingdom?'

	`Nope, I was born to Miyaki Shinobu and her wife Junba in 2008
Gregorian, on an Earth in a 'verse much like this one.

	`I've not gotten the full details out of the old bat, but it seems the
difference between this universe and my home one is that the Meddlers never
showed up here.'

	`Meddlers?  That doesn't sound good.'

	`Not in this case, but they can make remarkable messes.  We have a
small family, with one child, in our universe.'

	`Then what are you?  The child?'

	`Eris Bless!  Of course not!  Her family won't let her go questing
alone for a good while longer, at least a couple thousand more years.

	`I'm just a girl with meddler gene-mods, not a full one.  Full
meddlers haven't relied on mere biological modifications since their earliest
days.'

	`Why are you a meddler?'

	`Cause Mako gave my mom a syringe full of 1.99.97.3, which is the
current version of the virus.  Mako isn't authorized, and didn't tailor it
properly, so Sumie had to fix it, and then Midori decided to fix it so it was
safe for all the locals, and let it go at that.  They've been hanging around
ever since, to make sure we don't end up with another Sundering War.'

	`Sundering War?  That sounds bad.'

	`It destroyed entire branches of the multiverse, near their roots,
clean prunings.  You don't want to think about what would have happened if the
Draka, Nazis, or Kou Ming Tang, let alone a few of the others, had established
themselves as Meddlers.

	`My home Universe, and the ones I've visited while questing, are being
kept flattened until they've been cert'ed clean.'

	`Flattened?'

	`Kept from branching.  That keeps the number of universes contaminated
down to only millions, rather than septillions.'

	`And if something they don't like happens?'

	`If it's bad enough, we wouldn't be having this conversation.  So we
should make sure we don't scare them.'

	`How old are you?  You don't look very old.'

	`Twenty-six.  A couple years into puberty.  Meddlers are small by
default, and cute, unless they've self-modified otherwise.'

	`So they use a lot of machinery?'

	`No, not really.  Why?'

	`If they're all small,' Miki holds out a tiny hand.

	`We're really strong,' Miyuki holds out one six-fingered hand, thumbs
sticking out almost straight on either side of four long fingers.  Her hand is
twenty-five centimeters from thumbtip to thumbtip, `Even before I learned the
Art, I could do this,' she bounces, there really isn't a beter word for it,
and wraps one toe around the support frame for the ceiling tiles.  It bends a
little under her weight, but holds, `The Art has made me much more powerful.'

	She can feel the appreciative gazes of her fellow students, and
smiles.  She uncurls her toe, dropping face first towards the floor, then, at
seemingly the last instant, catches herself on two fingers, holds the pose for
a few seconds, then does a graceful walkover to her feet.

	`And that's why I wear tights,' she smiles at the goggling eyes in
front of her, and straightens her skirt a little.

	`How long have you been studying the art?  How good are you?'

	`All my life, but only four years of serious study.  In the Dark
Kingdom Ranks, I'm a Skilled Martial Artist.'

	`Which means, in normal terms?'

	`The ranks are Very Skilled, Skilled, Competent, and Incompetent.'

	`Again, which means?'

	Miyuki smiles, `A Competent Martial Artist can use her ki for strength
and healing, can dodge rounds from a main battle tank, and with five of her
friends can throw it over.  Skilled means you can flip the MBT by yourself, and
Very Skilled means you can get run over by the MBT, hit by the main gun, then
throw it four or five lengths.'

	`What?  How?'

	`Practice.'

	`So you don't get to participate in sports much?'

	`Anyone ranked `Skilled' or higher competes in the "superhuman magical
creatures, space aliens and godlike martial artists" category in the
Olympics.'

	`Why do they have such a category?'

	`Saotome Ranma and the '94 Japan-Dark Kingdom team, despite heavy bias
against them, swept the games repeatedly.  In 1992, it was just Saotome Ranma
and Ukyou, then in '94 it was the full team, which was half youma that year.
By the 3162 Summer Games they were segregated.'

	`Wow!  I wish we could participate, even if it was in a in a limited,
special category.'

	`The only reason they didn't just ban everyone was pressure by their
sponsors.

	`It's probably a good thing they did, since by the 3166 Summer Games
80% of the participants were "special."

	`Second Impact severely damaged the Games as a whole, and the 3166
Summer Games were cancelled halfway through, although sufficient clarity was
attained to evac Aus and New Zealand before the Impact occured.

	`It was one of King Serenity's miracles, the one that convinced Pope
John Paul III that she was the next best thing to the Second Coming.  The
schism resulting from his pressure, her refusal of the title, and the
overwhelming evidence of her having relocated the enirety of the Austrailian
Archipeligo to Wonderland broke the Roman Catholic Church into sectarian
violence, then just mutual dislike by all the factions for each other.

	`Most of the other monotheist groups suffered as well, but none lost
as much power.'

	A few of the other students smile.

	`Are the Southern Baptists the evil hatemongers there that they are
here?' Miyuki asks, `I mean, individually they may not be that bad, but as an
organized religion.'

	`Do they hate,' Kiki counts on her fingers, `Blacks, asians, Pacific
Islanders, gays, lesbians, Jews, Catholics, Methodists, actually, any
non-Southern Baptist Christians, Islamics, and Discordians?'

	`I'd put in American Natives, and Mexicans, and most Canadians, too.'

	`Sorry, forgot those.'

	`I'd worried for a moment they'd started coalition building.'

	`No, but they attract new fundies every year.'

	`King Serenity broke their hold on their US through economic sanctions
against being, in her words, creepy.'

	`Economic sanctions?  Against the _U_ _S_?  _How_?'

	`When the Dark Kingdom first emerged, the Dark Kingdom and the Dark
Kingdom Industrial Initiative dove into several key sectors, automobiles,
construction, and computers in particular.  By selling a vastly supperior
product at the same or lower price the DKII drove many other manufacturers
into niche markets or partnerships with Dark Kingdom industries, those that
weren't just bought outright.

	`Many companies only survived because the sanctions were imposed early
and hard, and had a severe negative impact for several years before Second
Impact's aftermath finally removed the creeps from power.'

	`And this relates to your skill level, how?' smirk.

	`Oh, right.  According to the IORC I'm a supernatural godlike martial
artist.'

	`What's this?' Chiemi pulls a small figure out of the carpet.

	`That's where it is!' Miyuki smiles, taking the tiny figurine, `My
Kicking Saotome Ranma #4,' she explains.

	`What?' Chiemi looks at the centimeter tall figurine, a woman in a red
top and black pants, kicking upwards, her legs perpendicular to the base, her
body parallel.

	Miyuki hands it back, `One of the rareist Militia Girlies, nearly as
rare as mine.'

	`Militia Girlies?' Chiemi looks over the little figure, stopping to
look at the logo on the bottom, `Genom?'

	`Yeah,' Miyuki pulls a large trunk from somewhere, and opens it,
revealing small flat boxes.  She digs for a moment, reading lables, `Not your
Genom, though,' she finds the box she is looking for, `Hers,' she pulls a
figurine out and hands it over.

	`Who's she?'

	Miyuki hands over a small metal plate with a black spot on it,
`Stand-alone reader.  Each toy has a bunch of data encoded onto it, and
generally a fair bit of empty space for updated information or random
storage.'

	Chiemi places the second figure on the spot, and words appear.

	`Sergeant of the Army Mizuno Ami.  Born 3144; Mass 101 kg; Blood
Type FIXME; Married to Clarence Cyan, three children as of 3198; Eldest child,
Mizuno Tomomi, figure #305062.  Explioits: Vermillion classified.'

	`Lemme see that,' she takes the plate,  `Auth Chiemi vermillion
access.'

	`Ack,' the plate flashes in red letters.

	`This one's an extra,' Miyuki hands over the Saotome Ranma figure and
puts the Mizuno Ami into the case and closes it, `I went a little crazy when I
found out how cheap they are,' she smirks self-depreciatingly, `bag of two
thousand for two terajoules, more each for smaller quantities.'

	`Oh, how crazy?'

	`I've one each of every Militia Girly as of 3199, and about a million
extras.'

	`How many figures is that?'

	`Three hundred six thousand, eight hundred sixty three different
figures.  Feel free to dig through the slush pile.'

	`Slush-' Chiemi is cut off by the appearance of four large duffle
bags, all a dark blue-green!

	`I let my favorite students high-grade it, but there's still a lot of
good ones left,' she opens one of the duffles, and pulls out a handfull,
`Here's a Buffy, a Mercury, a Tomomi, and a me,' she hands the four over, and
drops the others back in the bag.

	`You?'

	`Yeah, my Battery deployed our Macross Cannon, and and I blew about
eight Slii'Chat assault ships into itty bitty pieces while they made suicide
runs on us.'

	`Wow,' Chiemi stares at the tiny green haired figure dressed in a
tight environmental suit, helmet tucked under her arm, six-fingered hand
wrapped around it.

	`Yeah, it's a little perverse, but I wanted a full set.  They're like
little green army men, but they're all molded after a hero of the Dark
Kingdom.  Even me,' she indicates the little figure, `Although I hadn't
realized the standards were as open as that.'

	`What do you mean,' Chiemi asks, continuing to admire the Miyuki in
her hand.

	A Buffy figure appears in Miyuki's fingers, `Elizabeth Anne Summers.
CW5, Savior of the world at least twenty-five times that I have clearance for,
member of a stable quintad, co-mother of nine,' the figure dissappears,
`Saotome Ranma,' the new figure vanishes, `King Serenity,' the short-haired
figure in a grey uniform vanishes as well, `Heck, the whole inner circle-'

-

	`King Serenity?' Usagi asks.

	Miyuki fishes a non-specular sea blue duffle out, and digs several
DKH figures out, and a reader, `Touch this.'

	`Why?' Usagi asks, placing a hand on it.

	`Auth Usagi vermillion.'

	`So it knows who I'm talking about.'

	`Vermillion?'

	`Standard prov access.'

	`And you can grant that?'

	`I'm a teacher,' Miyuki shrugs, as if that explains everything,
`Tomomi can grant black access, but you don't need it.'

	`How are they made, and what from?'

	`Duraluminum -- aluminum glass.  They're nanoconstructed off the
model's personnel file.'

	`This one's you?'

	`Yeah.  I only got eight, six battleriders and two starships.'

	`Battleriders?'

	`Fast, powerful insystem craft carried by starships.  Mostly used by
cultures with high construction or operating costs for interstellar
drives.'

	`Oh.  Wow.  Are they common?'

	`No, they've only shown up twice in eighty-two documented invasion
attempts.'

	`That many?'

	`It's only about two a year.'

	`You've been involved in more than one them.'

	`Five.  Only had to shoot at people in two of them.'

-

	`Math requires patterned thinking.  In order to help you learn it, the
principal has authorized me a special after-school class for all of you.  I'm
sure most of you will enjoy it,' Miyuki smiles sweetly, and several of her
classmates cringe.

	After a short explanation . . .

	`Marching?'

	`Marching.  Drill and ceremony.  Patterned, stylized movements,
somewhat like the patterned, stylized thoughts required for math.'

	Most of the students cringe this time.

-

	`A yellow bird,' Miyuki calls in English.
	`A yellow bird,' the other girls call back, left foot striking the
ground on the first word, their accents improving after two weeks of daily
practice.

	`With a yellow bill,'
	`With a yellow bill.'

	We'll elide the full page of call and responce I originally drafted
here, and skip to:

	`This story is,'
	`This story is.'

	`To get some head,'
	`To get some head.'

	`You need some bread,'
	`You need some bread.'

-

	`What's that one mean?' Chieko asks, after the formation has been
fallen out.

	`It's an old American Army cadence.  It's a pun, bread is money, and
head is oral sex.'

	`So it isn't about killing little birdies?'

	`Nope.'

	`I'm not sure that's much better.'

	`Well, economic stability is good for one's reproductive success,'
Miyuki shrugs.

	`Maybe,' Chieko smiles.

-

	With a greath *Thump* the thing eating Aqua City disappears under a
streak of white light.

	The rubble sinks beneath the waves.

	`Wow.  Did you notice the orbital beam weapons, Muriel?'  Miyuki asks
from a rooftop overlooking the mess, face hidden by her helmet, wargloves on
her hands and feet, dark blue synthleather wrapped around her frame.

	`No.  It's a massive thing, now that I look -- hundred and fifty
megagrams.  Particle weapon.  Low orbit, they'd need about two hundred of them
for continuous coverage at that altitude,' a soft feminine voice replies.

	`How many HERAS rounds do we have?'

	`Two fifty six.  We resupplied after that last mission.'

	`And five twelve cleaner rounds?'

	`Five ten, we used two when we got here.'

	`Scatterbrain,' Miyuki derides herself, rapping her knuckles against
her temple, twelve centimeter claws carefully folded out of the way.

	`Sometimes,' Muriel agrees.

	`Find the rest of them.  Maybe we can muck with the huertistics on
some of the cleaners.'

	`Not the ones in orbit, but I should be able to modify one of the
rounds we have.'

	`I'll fish you out one when when I get back.'

	`So you found your singer?'

	`Yeah, she was here.  She may be a Knight Saber - they were here, and
four young women and one young man with a truck are leaving with ADP's
McNichols.'

	`Were you seen?'

	`No, they seemed to be managing, up until the partical weapon fired.'

	`What was the skill level?'

	`Decent for the Sabers, low for the Boomers and ADP.'

	`Sun's up, you should get to school.'

	`Yeah,' Miyuki sighs, `Suck - I wanted to follow that truck.'

	`Identifying marks?'

	`"Silky Doll" on the side, plates are numbered 555 3425, the women
look like this,' a couple transparent pictures superimpose themselves on the
com signal, Priss, Linna, Nene, and Sylia, `The driver,' Mackie, `And the ADP
guy,' Leon.

	`I'll check up on them - shall I send floaters after them?'

	`Mosquitos - they're a little more discreet.'

-

	`Priss and the Replicants canceled on us again last night,' Miyuki
pouts to the rest of her class, her chin cradled in her six fingered hands,
one pair of thumbs around the back of her neck, the other being slowly
twiddled, `After a single song.'

	`That's too bad, they're very good.'

	`I think I know why, though, so it's OK.'

	`Oh?  Why?'

	`Black.'

	`Black?'

	Miyuki nods.

	`Meaning?'

	`I ain't going to say any more.'

	`Oh,' Chie pouts cutely, `Ketchi.'

	Miyuki smiles, and blows her a kiss instead.

-

	`Whell,' Miyuki tosses her school uniform, neatly placed on a hanger,
onto a rod in a metal cabinet, and closes the door.  We follow the bare length
of her arm across her bare back into the rest of the room, a vast
warehouse-like space, bare concreete walls, polished concrete floor, square
pillars.

	No paint mars the walls, only a few framed posters and photos.  A
stack of beige boxes is plugged into the telecom network in the middle of one
wall, the cabinet is near a door, and a kotatsu is set up in the middle of the
room.

	`It's them.  Your singer is Blue, no other occupation of record,'
Muriel's voice drifts from the other door.

	`Red is Nene Romanova, works for the ADP, does computer "work" on the
side.'

	Miyuki pulls her non-spec blue synth leathers on.  She steps into her
footgloves, pulling them up, wiggling her toes to set the distal knuckles,
flexing her claws to make sure the tendons linked up properly.  She wiggles
her toes, then folds her distal knuckles back, and her claws away from the
floor.  She repeats the process with her hands, walking towards Muriel's door.

	Muriel's room is taller, 35 meter ceiling, rather than seven, no
pillars, and a giant eight-legged machine with a large turret on it's back
crammed into it, almost not fitting in the space.

	`Oh, how does she do?'

	`Very well, her systems are really good for this world.'

	`Hmm, interesting.  You crack them?'

	`Human factors.  Didn't want to trigger anything.'

	`Yeah.  The others?'

	`Yamazaki Linna, works as an aerobics instructor.  Green.

	`Mackie and Sylia Stingray, Getaway driver, high school student.
Sylia invests her father's money and runs a lingere shop.  Grey.

	`Leon McNichols, LT in the ADP, person-of-bad-luck when it comes to
boomers.'

	`Fun.  Dump the rest of it at me,' Miyuki sways on her feet a moment,
contemplating, `Interesting.  Keep an eye on them.'

	`Will do,' the front of the mecha bobs a tiny bit in a nod.

	`'Night,' Miyuki calls, hopping down the fifteen meters to Muriel's
glacis, then curling into a ball under the 360mm Naval Automatic Rifle's tube.

	`Good night,' Muriel pauses, `Fish me a cleaner round to work on,
first.'

	`Right,' Miyuki rolls over, falling the last twelve meters to the
floor, landing lightly on her feet.  She pulls a huge box out of nowhere, and
pulls a bullet larger than she is from it, thirty-six centimeters around, 182
long, massing slightly less than a megagram.  She sets it in a corner, puts
the box back into nowhere, and hops back up onto Muriel's glacis.

	Moments later, she's asleep.

-

	`Wakey wakey, girly,' Muriel's voice calls softly in the dark.

	`Oh?' Miyuki replies.

	`DB problems at Bob's Burgers.  30,000 Newyen if it's fixed by four,
when the chain starts having people show up for work.'

	`I'll take it.  Remote access, or console only?'

	`Console.'

	`Tell them I'll be there in,' pause as the lights come on, revealing
Miyuki dressed in black leather and black riding gloves, a motorcycle helmet
under her arm, `fifteen minutes,' she pulls her helmet on, strapping it under
her chin.

	She frobs the starter of a 1999 Superhawk, repainted black with red
lettering, one hand on the clutch as the liter-class L-twin fires up.  She
pushes the bike out the door while the motor smooths, and the door rolls down
behind her. 
	
	She pushes the choke in, throws a leg over, and sets off in a roar of
exhaust that speaks of heavy modification, sparks trailing as she drags a knee
around the corner two blocks down.

-

	Miyuki steps along the sidewalk, skirts fluttering, white gloves on
her hands, black patent leather look gloves on her feet.  The smile on her
face gets a bit bigger as she spots her classmates and picks up her pace a
bit.

-

[greetings/namedrops/dates read my notes from 2002 March 3 --S]

-

	`You've gotten as good as a Dark Kingdom first year elementry class at
D&C,' Miyuki smiles at her class, `And your math scores have picked up.'	

	A couple smiles twitch on somber faces, but no one breaks the position
of attention.

	`So it's time to move on to the manual of arms.  For the first part
we'll all need curved swords -- sabers by preference, but cutlasses,
scimitars, kodachi or katana will work.'

	A tentative left hand extends upward from the formation, index finger
extended. 

	`What, Chie?'

	`Sergeant, permission to speak, sergeant.'

	`Speak.'

	`I don't have a sword, sergeant.'

	`Oh.  How many of you do have swords?'

	Two hands go up.

	`Ow.  Bokuto?'

	Most hands go up.

	`How many don't?' Four hands.

	`I'll have bokuto for you tomorrow,' Miyuki goes from at ease to
attention, `Fall Out!'

	The formation disolves.

-

	
	`I was working part time/at a five and dime/my boss was Mr. Mcgee.  He
told me several times/that he didn't like my kind,/'cause I was a little too
leisurely  Seemed I was busy/doin' somethin' close to nothing,/but different
than the day before/That's when I saw her/Ooh I saw her/she walked in
through the out door/out door/She wore a rasberry beret/the kind that you
find in a second-hand store/Rasberry beret/and if it was warm she wouldn't
wear much more,' Miyuki sings to herself, grading math tests.

	`This is interesting,' Muriel's voice slips through the door.

	`Oh?' Miyuki looks up.

	`One of Linna's friend's husband, no, fiance, was offed by Genom, who
employed him,' Muriel pauses.

	`And she's being discreetly stalked right now, isn't she?'

	`Got it in one.  She's with Linna right now, should be safe until they
split up.'

	`Gyeh.  Let me guess, they're eating dinner.'

	`Pin-pon!'

	Miyuki unbuttons her uniform shirt and throws it onto her skirt,
already discarded on the floor.

-

	`Hurry just a little bit,' Muriel's voice calls, distorted slightly by
the comlink.

	`Hai!' Miyuki drops to a roof edge, blue leathers and wargloves, her
hair tied back in a clubbed braid, ornate three-quarter helm on her head, `I
see her, shit,' and she leaps again.

	Miyuki hits the much taller 33C in the shoulder, pulling the boomer's
victim back onto the bridge.  The boomer rights herself, stepping back,
dropping the young woman onto the concrete.  Miyuki leads with an open hand,
twelve centimeters of curved death, the boomer barely throwing herself out of
the way, touches ground again, and lashes out with the opposite foot, a sonic
boom and splash of blood marking her tag.

	The boomer flees, one hand clutched to her side, and Miyuki turns to
the victim, `Wow,' she says, cheerfully, the first knuckle of each finger
folded back, holding the claw out of the way, `You really got messed up.
You'll be fine, though,' and she lets her hand rest lightly on the other's
belly.

	`How?' the victim asks, her voice hoarse with pain.

	`A healer's on her way, and I've got you stabilized.'

	`Irene!' Linna yells again, running up to the top of the stairs.  She
turns a glare on Miyuki, `If you hurt her . . . '

	`Hey!' Priss yells, from behind Miyuki.

	/Where's Tomomi?/ Miyuki comms.

	/She was . . . involved.  ETA one minute thirty./

	/She's not even twenty!  Grief.  New girl, or the same one as last
time?/

	/Same one.  Seems rather smitten, even./

	/Good for her./

	`Who, what are you?' Priss growls, not moving from her place at
Miyuki's side, watching as Irene, somehow, continues to breathe.

	`Miyaki Miyuki, Kanshousha, at your service,' Miyuki bows as well as
she can without jostling Irene.

	`She drove off the boomer, and says Irene will make it,' Linna wraps
an arm around Priss, although it isn't clear if it's for comfort or to
restrain the other woman.

	Priss runs an experienced eye over Irene and shakes her head gently.

	Moments later she startles as a tall woman drops to the bridge next to
her.

	`And this is the victim?' she says conversationally, `Multiple stab
and slash wounds to the guts and vitals, right dear?' she asks Irene.

	Irene nods weakly.

	`This will only take a few moments then,' and she lays her hands on
Irene, occassionaly poking her, a barely visible glow covering Irene's skin.
After a few minutes, when Priss starts to shift uncomfortably, she settles
back on her black-booted heels, rubs her hands together, `Done.  Deal with the
cleanup, Miyuki,' and she leaps, her dark blue leathers vanishing quickly into
the night.

	`Hey,' Miyuki coos at Irene, `How do you feel?'

	`Tired, and thirsty,' Irene smiles.

	`Good.  Shows you are healing properly,' Miyuki looks around, `We're
not being watched right now, but Linna's apartment, and Irene's, are.  Priss's
trailer isn't, but that may change if if the boomer got her plate number.'

	`How do you know?' Priss asks, aggressive.

	`Obs units,' a mosquito-like noise whines up, dies out.  Miyuki holds
out a finger, showing a tiny robot with six legs and wings, `I started having
you followed after things blew up a couple days ago.'

	`Things?'  Linna does a good job of looking confused.

	`What do you know . . . ' Priss trails off when Miyuki presses an
index finger to her lips and looks down at Irene.

	`I was in the area, and watched the show,' Miyuki makes a face, `I
wouldn't offer this, but the others of you are much too closely linked
already.  She can stay in my guest room until things cool off.  Is that OK?'
she looks down at Irene.

	`Yeah,' Irene nods, `Thirsty.'

	`Sorry,' Miyuki hands her a canteen, the cap open, `Drink slowly, OK.'

	`Yeah,' Irene says, then takes a big gulp.

	Miyuki shakes her head, `The old Woolworths in Minato-ku.'

	Priss nods, but Linna looks confused, `That whole area is a slum --'
she starts.

	`Which is why I got the place so cheap.  I chased the squatters out
and moved in, fixed the roads and improved the surrounding buildings, minor
stuff.  Hold her a moment,' Miyuki indicates the bloody form in her arms.

	Linna takes her, startling when she notices Miyuki's claws, folded
back with the distal knuckle.

	Miyuki turns the wheel on the ugly sedan, nods, then grabs it, backing
a few steps before ramming it quickly into the concrete rail, shoving it up,
then through and over dropping it onto the road below.

	The sedan starts to burn sullenly.

	`How?' Linna asks.

	`Impossible,' Priss says at the same time.

	`Let me have her back,' Miyuki says, holding out her arms.

	Linna hands her over, `Wasn't there evidence to be recovered?' she
looks down at the burning wreck, then at her bloody clothes.

	`Muriel got it.'

	Blank looks.

	`My sectionmate.  You can meet her when you get to my place,' she looks
up at the taller women, `Linna, you might be more comfortable riding with
Priss.'

	Linna nods, reluctantly.

	Irene hands back the canteen, `Done.'

	`Good,' Miyuki smiles at the suddenly asleep woman in her arms, `I'll
see you there,' she says, then vanishes, barely bending her knees before
jumping.

-

	Priss presses the intercom button next to the sign reading "Miyuki's
Magic and Mischief.  Computer Engineering and Management Services."

	Before she can speak the steel shutter rolls up, and the doors behind
it swing outward.

	`Come in, park the bike in here,' Miyuki, still in her leathers, but
bare footed and handed, waves the two women through the steel-barred
armorglass front doors, onto a nice terrazzo floor, the edges curved up
against round tiled pillars, pressed tin ceiling six meters up, an ornate
staircase at the back of the huge room, sculpture and sculpturally placed
objects scattered on the floor, framed panels on the walls.

	`Park her here,' she indicates a small round dias, maybe six
centimeters high.

	Bemused, Priss does so.

	`The car belonged to Genom.  Their motor pool records say it was
signed out to an aide of Brian J. Mason, an aide who came back hurt tonight.
Mason is listed as Irene's intended's supervisor,' Miyuki says as she walks
towards the stairs.

	After a short pause, the other two follow.

	`Calling the rest of your team was the proper thing to do, but Sylia
really shouldn't be out there trying to provide cover when the intel is as
spotty as it is,' Miyuki turns at the landing, `Nice recorders, but
solid-state is much quieter, both sonic and EM.'

	Priss and Linna look at each other.

	`Muriel was counterintel before she joined the Artillery.'

	`Counter intelligence?' Priss asks.

	`Yep.  She's over here,' she leads them over another terrazzo floor,
this one having three meter tall shoji partitions sectioning it up.  She
slides a panel open, revealing Irene layed out in a futon, fast asleep.

	Linna walks quickly over, stockinged feet quiet on the floor.  She
kneels and observes the sleeping woman, `How did you do this?'

	`I brought her home, the bath's in Muriel's room-'

	`No, how is she still alive?  Those claws . . . so much blood . . . '

	`Oh.  I just kept her alive until Tomomi got there, she did all the
hard work.'

	`Just?  I've lost friends in less time than that, of lesser wounds,'
Priss says, `You're some kind of alien superhero, aren't you?'

	`Something like that.  Half-alien.  So's Tomomi, for that matter.
Healing is part of the Art, though, anyone can learn it.  Most Dark Kingdom
schoolkids are better at it than I am.'

	`Dark Kingdom?' Priss asks.

	`I was there for a few years before I came here.  Tomomi and Muriel
are from there.'

	`As in Sailor Moon Dark Kingdom?'

	`How did you know?' Miyuki asks happily.

	`Wow.  So you carry a pair of .45s?'

	`These?' Miyuki's hands twitch, and a P-14G is in each one,
blued steel and black plastic grips looking small in her inhumanly long
fingers, slender hands with enough spread to palm a basketball.

	`There is, was, a Sailor Moon Manga -- I read it as a girl,' Priss
says, shrugging.

	`Wow!  Can I read them?'

	`You'll have to find copies somewhere, mine were lost a long time
ago,' Priss shakes her head, `Could you tell me about your Dark Kingdom?'

	`Let me see,' she pulls out a book, looks at the blue dot on it, then
puts it back into the nowhere she pulled it from, and pulls out another, with
a purple dot, which she hands to Priss.

	Priss reads the cover, "A Brief History of the Dark Kingdom, expunged.
Vermillion Clearance.  Mizuno Clarence.'  The back cover has a picture of a
tall pale woman with light blue hair.

	`She looks like the woman who fixed Irene up,' Linna says.

	`She's Tomomi's Papa.'

	Linna looks confused, but Priss just nods.

	`Muriel would like to see you in person, so,' Miyuki gestures towards
the open shoji panel.

	The other two file out first, leaving Irene to sleep.

-

	They step out onto the catwalk, the light from the guest room
iluminating the open mesh floor and glinting off a shadowed, hulking form.

	`Bring up the lights, Muriel,' Miyuki gestures grandly into the
shadows.

	Bright white light floods the vast room, forty-five meters from floor
to ceiling, and nearly three hundred meters square, the white-coated floor
thirty meters below.

	 Most of that space is filled with a single giant eight-legged
machine, crouched so that the huge gun turret on its back doesn't brush the
ceiling.

	Priss and Linna stare for a moment, then begin to search the space for
a human figure.

	Muriel's soft laugh fills the room, `I'm the first thing you saw,
dearies.'

	Priss turns to the mecha, `And that is what sort of thing?'

	Linna just stares.

	`This body is a Bolo Mark Thirteen chassis, the turret and gun were
the part of the port ventral armament of a Bohr class corvette.  All parts
were purchased surplus and have been paid for.'

	Priss smiles, `Cool.  Were you human, or some sort of space alien?'

	`She's an A.I., like certain Kanshousha heros,' Miyuki says.

	Priss's face shows the mixed nature of her reaction, gut level
attraction fighting with her ingrained mistrust of mechanical intelligence,
`Oh.'

	Miyuki notices, `She's a Citizen, so you can trust her just as
you would me or Tomomi.  She's been the rest of my section for almost three
years now, and has been nothing but wonderful.'

	Priss nods, then bows, `Pleased to meet you, Muriel.'

	`And you,' Muriel bends her legs, dropping her front in a return bow.

	`Naval gun?'

	`360mm Naval Automatic Rifle.  An energy weapon crazed the surface, so
it has a much lower sustained rate of fire, and we could afford it.'

	`What is the sustained rate now?'

	`Cyclic until I run out of ammo,' Muriel says, `Miyuki has to change
boxes after that, and that takes long enough for the gun to cool.'

	`Nice,' Priss says.

	Miyuki finishes their nickle tour, and ushers them out.

-

	Miyuki looks a the red hyperboomer.  `What an ugly machine,' she tells
it, tracing fuel lines with her hand, `And the fuel line layout is all fucked
up.  She blinks, and we realize it is another projection.

	*Crump*

	`Orbital Particle beam,' Miyuki says, `Shit.'

	The boomer is moving, closing on the Knight Sabers, who have dealt
with Mason's aides.

	`Muriel, hit the sat with with a HERAAS, then launch that cleaner
round.'

	The ceiling over Muriel's room rolls back, and the long slender fluted
barrel of a three hundred and sixty millimeter naval rifle elevates, then
traverses onto target.

	*BOOM*  Intact windows shake and broken glass shivers loose, falling
with a light tinkle all over the neighborhood.  A faint streak flashes nearly
straight up.

	`HERAAS shot.'

	*BOOM*

	A beam of sunlight gleams off the particle beam weapon satelite as it
falls serenely through space, emitter glowing just a tiny bit in near IR,
still almost cold after two shots.

	`Rounds complete,' Muriel reports as the tube drops back out of sight,
and the roof rolls shut. 

	The satelite continues to fall, then an orange flare races up, getting
within a dozen meters before turning into a brilliant white flash, shattering
the solar panels and warping the frame, sharp shrapnel tearing through the
lightly armored body, one fragment cutting through the emitter a moment before
the fuel deflagrates prettily.

	`Target destroyed,' Muriel says, a smile in her voice.

	The Knight Sabers have dealt with the hyperboomer by the time Miyuki
turns her attention back to them.

-

	`Pop quiz - spacecraft on vector A at point pi,' Miyuki raps the board
with a fingernail, `Moving at a speed of 600 meters per second needs to hit
the spacecraft on vector B at point theta which has a speed of 1200 meters per
second.

	`Calculate the aiming vector C for the HEFEL at the optimal firing
time.'

	`Aww,' moans the class.

-

	`Naginata.  How many of you have learned it?'

-

	`Hello?' Miyuki speaks to the air, answering her business line,
`Muriel said you wanted to speak to me directly?'

	`Yes, my name is Carol Evers-'

	Miyuki nods, `President of Green Corporation.'

	`Exactly.  I've heard that you can take care of impossible tasks.'

	`Sometimes.  What do you need?'

	`I want Paradise Loop shut down and the tunnels filled, without
hurting anyone.'

	`That is a difficult task.  Can I call you back on this number?'

	`Yes.'

	`I'll have an estimate in a few days.  Leave a datatran address with
Muriel, please.'

	`I will.'

	`Thanks, let me transfer you.'

	Muriel takes the call back, and Miyuki smiles, bouncing to her feet,
smiling.

-

	/This place reeks,/ Miyuki says, walking down the unmoving escalator,
/Someone's been doing maintenance, but not much./

	/Then someone's skimming,/ Muriel notes.

	/Yep.  Enough that they can keep public oversight mostly out of here,
and keep it seperate from the rest of the public trans system./

	Miyuki's eyes flit over several different sorts of users and their
dealers, and something that makes her eyes narrow, /Didn't they say they'd
stomped out most of the underage prostitution in this town?/

	/Yes, they had./

	/This isn't "assisted dating",/ Miyuki frowns at the euphemism, /Some
of these girls are half-starved./

	A girl with her hair elaborately half-braided walks past, something
purposeful in her step, and boards one of the trains.  Miyuki follows
discreetly, a few more mosquitos whining out of the container in her backpack.

	The girl with elaborate hair seems to be searching for someone,
glancing at everyone as she passes them, then stopping with a smile at the
sight of one young girl with short brown hair.

	`How much?' the elaborate girl leans in close to her scantily-dressed,
shivering prey.

	Miyuki winces at the number the prostitute gives.

	`For a quickie on the train, or for a night in my bed?' the elaborate
girl asks.

	The other girl leans back, her brown eyes shining, searching the
other's face for a moment before she replies, `Either.'

	`What's your name?'

	`Rika.'

	`Rika-chan, you should be more careful,' she smiles at Rika's suddenly
fearful look, `Not everyone is as safe as I am,' and she holds out her hand,
twice what Rika asked for in her palm, and catches Rika's hand, `Let's get out
of here.'

	With a thought a couple mosquitos follow them.

-

	`Miyuki, MT39148965 now, combat gear,' Tomomi's voice echos out over
Muriel's room.  Miyuki rolls out of her place under Muriel's turret, drops to
the ground, and lands lightly on her feet.

	Irene, looking a little ruffled, peers down from the guest room's
catwalk, `What was that?'

	`Trouble,' Miyuki says, swining over the rail, `I'll try to be back
for breakfast, but don't hold it too long for me.'

	`Thanks,' Irene says, `Again.'

	`I've been more than paid,' Miyuki says, smiles, and vanishes, only a
slight tensing of her muscles forshadowing the movement.

-

	*What is it?*  Miyuki's voice and a tiny blue flash crossing the
cityscape.

	*Precog dream.  Bad things, this morning, here.  Wanted backup.*

	*Ah.  ETA fifteen seconds.*

	*We'll have breakfast waiting.*

	*Muriel, tell Irene not to wait breakfast on me.*

	*Gotcha.*

	The blue streak resolves into Miyuki, as she hits a concrete apartment
building next to a window.  It opens, and she slips inside.

-

	`Um,' Miyuki says to the Genom suit, `When were these people issued
their eviction notices?'

	`This morning,' the suit smiles.

	`Then you will go away and come back with your equipment in two
weeks,' Miyuki smiles and flexes her claws.

	The suit smiles dismissivly back, `You have no legal right-'

	A loud crunch of falling steel cuts him off and he turns to stare at
the severed bucket of a power shovel.

	`I have diplomatic immunity,' Miyuki smiles, a few flecks of red and
yellow paint in her hair.

	The suit's guard boomer sheds his skin, shreds his thousand dollar
suit and attacks.

	Moving just slow enough that one can figure out her movements, Miyuki
rips the boomer's chest open with one swipe of her foot, and it blows with a
loud *crump* of burning fuel.

	`I'll be back in two weeks, and this place had better be empty,' the
suit blusters, waving his crew to back off.

	Priss, on the sidelines, starts clapping.

-

	The girl runs, turning the corner to her normal hiding spot, only to
find the door gone, and whimpers, turning to face her pursuer.  The man
groans, slaps at his neck, and falls, breathing unsteadily.

	The girl gathers up the ragged shreds of her dignity, and riffles the
man's pockets before stealing his shirt and leaving him there.

-

	The Sabers roar up the spiral road around Genom Tower, blowing easily
through the defending boomers.

	A few minutes later they reach the top, Priss and Linna moving against
the last of the defending boomers on the roof, Nene continuing to work the
ECM/ECCM gear, and Sylia goes after the man in the power suit.

	The boomers die in splendid gouts of flame as their fuel loads light.

	Mason opens the top of his suit, exposing his face, and takes a
railgun needle between the eyes.

	Nene scrawls `Knight Sabers,' on the roof before the four retreat.

-

	`Have you read my proposal?'

	`I have.  How soon can I transfer the money?'

	`I'd prefer the plant, actually.'

	`I've not used it since Genom moved into handtools last year.'

	`That's a waste.  Can I get a list of your former workers, as well?'

	`Sure.  Genom snapped most of them up, but you can try for them.'

-

	`So you found out?'

	`That the woman I'm crushing on is involved?'

	`Yep.  Do you know who it is?'

	`Someone called Tomomi.'

	`Mizuno.'

	Priss does a doubletake, `No hope, then.'

	`Probably not,' Miyuki agrees, giving the taller woman a hug.

	`Oh well,' Priss blinks, hugging back.

-

	`All of the hidey-holes are gone,' one girl whispers to another, `And
the tunnels are getting narrower.'

	`What's happening here?' her friend whimpers.

	`I don't know, but I'm getting out of here.'

	`It's the middle of Febuary,' she says with a shiver.

	`I don't want to be here when the trains stop.'

	`You think it's getting that bad?'

	`I think it will.  The dealers are even moving out.'

	`Did you see the fliers?'

	`The ones Rika-chan brought?'

	`Yes.'

	`Is that where she's staying?'

	A shaken head, `No, she's a kept woman, a high school girl, of all
things.'

	`Rika-chan?'

	`No, her keeper.  Inherited a mid-sized company from someone Rika-chan
called an evil bitch.  She's got Rika-chan back in school.'

	`No.'

	`Yes.  Her company helps fund those shelters, along with Genom and
Green.'

	`Oh.'

	`Shall we try it?'

	`I'm not staying here.'

-

	`Do we need to get the shock collars back out?' Miyuki yells, `Five
meter intervals, people!'

	The girl at the front of the line waves her hand to the side of the
road, then looks at Miyuki, one hand shoulder level, palm skyward, fingers
cupped.

	`Yes, staggered, Eris Bless it!  And keep those rifles at the ready!
Hina!  That means you!'

	`Sergeant!'

	`What, Misato?'

	`Two and a half meters between us and the person in front and behind
on the opposite side of the road?'

	`Yes.  Now catch up, but don't run.'

	Misato walks faster.

	`Megumi, bend your knees with each step.'

	`I am!'

	`Bend them a little more, while you step.  That's it, keep it up,
almost there, good, maintain that distance,' Miyuki steps off, blue-toned camo
fatigues and helmet cover, black gloves on her hands and feet.

	`Half a meter back, Chie.' Birds chirp in the trees around the
two-lane road the class is road marching along.
		
-

	At the front of the formation Miyuki raises a clenched fist, and the
column stops.  She flattens her hand, and motions down.

	Half the group drops to their knees, shedding their packs and dropping
into a prone unsupported firing position.  The rest follow suit, once the
first ten are down.  Once everyone is down almost half of them are back up,
dashing for the treeline, rifles at the low ready.

	They straggle back at a light jog, other girls bouncing up one at a
time as they return.

-

	`The road march went pretty good, all told -- we kept together,
mostly, maintained an average of six kilometers an hour, and got here before
noon.

	`Now we dig in, set up the bivy, and guard the perimeter.  Everyone
has six mags in your ammo pouches, and the seventh goes in your weapon now.

	`You will have your perimeter tested.  I've issued paint rounds --
they'll hurt like hell, but you'll live.  If you get shot at, shoot back.  If
you get shot, yell "Medic" and I'll come triage you.  If you need it, I've a
healer on call.'

	`Do we choose our own sectors of fire?'

	`Select the one you think you need to watch, and I'll tell you if
you're right.

	`We're bivying in this copse of trees right here, select spots around
the edge for your firing positions, and I'll be around to check on you and
your sectors of fire.  Any questions?'

	No one moves.

	`Fall out!'

-

	The train is almost empty when the power goes out.  The emergency
systems slow it to a stop.  A couple passengers maintain enough presence of
mind to work the door releases, but most don't even notice.

-

	`We had a bit of excitement while you were gone.'

	`Yeah, Muriel told me -- the gryphon.  Gibson's better now, isn't he?'

	`And his girl.'

	`That's good.  Shame about the car.  I'da liked to play with it.'

	`Might have made a good pet, but it's all crunched.'

	`Yep.'

	`Speaking of, could you help me fix the Highway Star?'

	`I suppose.'

-

	`All of you now have a basic grounding in kempo.  If you were in a
Dark Kingdom school you would now begin to learn the advanced chi manipulation
techniques you need to progress further in the Art.  Those techniques will
allow you to heal faster than we break you down, but they're Black, citizen
clearance.'

	`So we need to pledge our immortal souls?'

	`No.  You just need to pledge, before a Special Policeman, to follow
the Rules.'

	`And you've got one, right?'

	`Right.'

	`And if we can't make that pledge?'

	`I stop training you, or you take a Geas, or have yourselves
modified.'

	`Geas?'  `Modified?'

	`A geas is a binding spell.  Dark Kingdom ones can limit one to acting
within the rules to about seven nines.'

	`And modification?'

	`Rework of one's persona matrix.  You really want a shrink to do that,
since while a Special Policeman can work it, you run a much higher risk of
artifacts that way.'

	`Artifacts are bad?'

	`I'd say not good, at least.  They can range from quirks to mannerisms,
habits, or outright memories from your modifier.  Memories, when they're
transfered, tend to be quite traumatic.'

	A collective shiver flitters through the nineteen girls as they think
about that.

	`Anyway, re-read the Rules, and ask me questions on Monday.'

	`Yes, Sergeant.'

-

	Police Sergeant Iris Cara kicks the soft dirt filling the former
Paradise Loop subway entrance, then turns to her family, `She did a good job,'
she nods agreement.

	`Better than that,' Miu gushes, `The concrete's gone, and so's the
steel and trains and everything!'

	Carol smiles, gathering her into her arms, `And everyone got out, even
if it took a sweep by the emergency services personnel to grab the last few.'

	`Thank you,' Nobue wraps her arms around Carol and Miu, plants a kiss
on each of them.

	`What she said,' Chika kisses Carol first, then the other two.

	`Ahh!' Anna whines, `That's so not fair,' pulls Matsuri with her as
she grabs Iris's hand and pulls her into the hug as well.

- 

	`She's so cool,' Priss gushes about her new girl friend, `Rides a
two-stroke, grey hair, gold eyes, looks really nice in leather.  She's quiet
about her past, but it seems something bad happened recently.'

	`Is the bad over, or is she still worried?'

	`Something is on her mind, she's living in the canyons somewhere, and
I think she's got someone, kid or friend, she's taking care of there.  She's
very careful not to show me where she lives.'

	`Could she just be embarrassed about where she's living?'

	`I've lived in the canyons, I know what it's like.'

	`She could be from a higer socioeconomic class, and not want to share
what she feels are her shameful quarters.'

	`I don't think so, she speaks lower-middle class, and she wasn't
appalled by my trailer.'

	`Then maybe she is watching out for someone, or she doesn't trust
you.'

	`She trusts me enough to show me where she lives, if she didn't have
someone she was watching out for.'

	`She could just be running a speed lab.'

	`Speed lab?'

	`Methamphetamine.  Crank.  Crystal.'

	`No, the stuff on the street's imported.  The chemsniffers are good
enough and the margin's small enough that they don't make it here.'

	`OK,' Miyuki pulls a screen from somewhere, `Blue and white leathers?'

	`Yeah . . . '

	`This girl?' Miyuki indicates the image of Sylvie that has appeared on
the screen.

	`Yep.  This was the day I met her, isn't it?'

	Miyuki's eyebrow barely twitches, `Searched your surveilance data.

	`She hasn't been lying to you, or she's increadably good at it.  She's
cyborged, can't tell how much from the mosquito data.  She's worried about
something, pretty much all the time, but you aren't it.

	`I'll sic some mosquitos on her.'

	`I've a concert tonight, she should be there.'

	`Sounds fun, I'll be there.'

	`See you then, then.'

	They stand awkwardly for a moment, then Miyuki bows, steps out of the
trailer, and starts her Genom 1600 SuperSport.

	It warms with a low two-stroke roar, the chambers controling the
exhaust flow at the low RPMs while Miyuki gets her helmet on.  She straddles
the bike, kicks the sidestand up, and rolls the throttle back, the turbo
spinning up with a whine before she drops the clutch, chirping the back tire
before lifting the front wheel with an ease that belies the over six hundred
kilo combined mass of Meddler girl and motorcycle.  She clicks it down into
second, chirps the tire, then third, chirping again, and leans it over into
the turn at the end of the street still on the back wheel.

-

	`Sylvie!' Priss greets the tall young woman enthusiasticly, `These are
the friends I was telling you about,' Priss grabs Nene about the shoulders,
`This is Nene,' and runs her into Linna, `And Linna,' she turns, `And-'

	Miyuki cuts her off, `I'm Miyuki,' she holds out her hand.

	Sylvie takes it, `Pleased to meet you, Miyuki.  Are you Priss's little
sister?'

	Miyuki laughs, `I'm older than I look, but thanks.'

	`Oh?' Sylvie asks.

	`Twenty six, last May.'

	`Wow!  I thought you were like, twelve,' Linna laughs.

	Miyuki gives her a darkling look, `And your EMI director is an
assistant's assistant, by the way.'

	`What?' Linna yells, then whimpers, `I always get the winners.'

	`I thought the cyberware was excessive for someone your apparent age,'
Sylvie says.

	`People always say that.  My people mature more slowly than humans.'

	`You're an alien?'

	`Half,' Miyuki smiles, `Priss mentioned that you ride?'

	`I love it, but I haven't been riding long.'

	`I've got a favorite ride I could show you both tomorrow?  Priss
doesn't get out of the city much.'

	`That sounds like fun.'

-

	`Boomer, or a human who's got as many Genom parts as one.'

	`What?!' Priss exclaims, stepping back.

	`Your friend Sylvie.  She's got a friend she's looking out for,
mentioned, well, all I got was a mumble, something about a data disk, which
would set them free.  Probably some design flaw or intentional weakness that
needs to be fixed in their cyberware.'

	` . . . ' Priss looks stunned for a while, sits down, then calms,
`What can I do to help?'

	`I've got mosquitos on her, so I'll continue to monitor.  If she needs
rescuing, I'll bring you along--'

	`Count on it,' Priss interupts, `Where should I be, and should I be,'
she pauses, `armored for it?'

	`Don't know when, don't think you'll need the armor, just be ready and
I'll 'port you along.'

	`Port?' Priss ruffles her own hair, then uncovers the percolator and
starts to fiddle with it.'

	`Teleport.  I've some prepped spells saved for emergencies, and this
will count, I think.'

	Priss shakes her head, `I thought I quit believing in magic a long
time ago.'

	`Truth isn't always easy to believe.'

	`No,' Priss says, `It isn't.'  She looks into her empty cup until the
percolator gives a last cough and wheeze before it goes silent, then pours for
both, `Crushing on a boomer.  That is rather pathetic.'

	Miyuki cuts her coffee with milk from a carton she pulls out of
nowhere, proffers it to Priss, who shakes her head, returns it.  She takes a
swig, `Not really, she's a great person, pure of heart, with lovely dreams.  I
think the two of you would be a good match, actually.'

	`Oh?'

	`Yeah.  She believes the world is a lovely place, and you want to
believe, but don't really.  Your interests overlap, but not totally, so you
will have time with and without each other.  Could be worse, could be better,
but that's the way the world generally works,' Miyuki smiles, and drinks down
the rest of her coffee.

	`You really think I should?' Priss says, hesitant.

	`I don't think you're stupid enough not to.'

	`When you put it that way . . . ' Priss mock scowls, then takes a
drink of her own coffee.

	Miyuki picks up the pot, waits for Priss's nod, then tops up both of
their cups, cuts her own, and takes a sip.

-

	`Hey,' Chie asks, `You OK?'

	`Yeah, just a little distracted.  Supplementary class is canceled this
afternoon.'

	`Aww,' most of the class makes the attempt, but fail to sound upset.

-

	Miyuki, all in black on her antique motorcycle, pulls up next to Priss
before killing her motor.

	`Hey,' Priss says, flipping back the visor on her helmet.

	`New bike, Priss?' Miyuki pulls her helmet off and sets it on the
1600's tank.

	Priss makes a face, `It's only my third since I met you,' she pauses,
`And you saw it a couple days ago,' she pulls her helmet off as well.

	`Well, that's three more new bikes than me, since that first one was
brand new when I met you.'

	`Yeah, work's kinda hard on them.'

	`You'd think you were a drug dealer, back home.'

	`In the Dark Kingdom?'

	`Nope, home.  Dealers are extinct in the Dark Kingdom, done in by
legalization.  Can't make a living when the corner store has you beat on price
and quality.'

	`Doesn't that cause problems?'

	`Not really.  If you're drunk at work or while operating a motor
vehicle you can get in trouble, but what you do is otherwise your own
problem.'

	`That'd be good,' Priss falls silent as she turns, looking for the
two-stroke motor she can hear approaching.

	Sylvie pulls up, kills the motor and flicks down the sidestand before
she pulls her helmet off, `Hey,' she and Priss watch each other, fascinated,
for a few minutes.

	Miyuki clears her throat, `Shall we go?  I know a couple nice, scenic
routes to good makeout spots I can leave you at.'

	Sylvie blushes and Priss comes really close, the tips of her ears
turning pink.

	Miyuki smiles, `I'll take that for a "fine,"' her gloved fingers work
the D-rings of her helmet straps.  She starts the SS and blips the throttle
just to hear the turbo spin up.

	The other two get their helmets on while she waits.

-

	Miyuki leads, the SS's motor burbbling softly, just off boost, the
harder center ridge of her Michelin Everlasts scrubbing slightly as she
drifts, vertical, through the first half of the S-curve.  Priss follows,
leaned over, a few lengths back, then, a little further back, Sylvie.

	Miyuki straightens onto the line of the road, then slips around the
next curve, scrubbing slightly.

-

	`How much do you weigh?' Sylvie asks, `You don't ride like you weigh
forty-five kilos.'

	`Closer to a hundred and ten.  It looks like I'll be nearly a meter
sixty and one eighty kilos when I finish growing,' Miyuki says, stretching to
her full meter and twenty-five with the palms of her feet flat on the ground.

	Priss whistles, `Wow.'

	`That's several years from now, though.'

	`Oh?'

	`I told you my people age slowly.  Won't be all growed up until I hit
about forty.'

	`She's not  a shaftie, is she?' Sylvie says, looking up from the SS.

	`Hydraulic final drive powering both wheels,' Miyuki says, proudly,
`Gobs of fun, and keeps most of the power on the road, even though I weigh so
little.'

	`How much does she weigh?'

	`Close to half a ton.'

	Sylvie is still fascinated by the site, high on the side of Mt. Fuji.
Maples, a lovely high boulder, tall grass and brilliant green moss surround a
tiny spring, a few hundred meters off the road.

	`Thank you,' Sylvie changes the subject in a soft voice, `I've never
seen a place more beautiful.'

	`You're most welcome.  I'm glad you like it,' Miyuki catches up her
helmet, `Don't do anything I wouldn't do,' she smiles at them, `Have fun.'

	The younger two glance at each other and blush.

-

	Sylvie pulls a disk out of a file folder in the GPCC building.

	`Miyuki,' Muriel says, waking her, `It's going down, GPCC building.'

	`Right.  Ring Priss, I'll head out now with the 'port spells.'

	`I'll be ready.'

	Miyuki checks the play of her extra knuckles while the double width
door on what used to be the eigth floor slides open, twelve centimeter blades
flashing on her hands.

	She leaps, vanishing into the night.

	Sylvie shoots the suit who accosts her and heads for the front door.

	A blue streak flashes over the scenery towards the GPCC building,
kilometers to go.

	Sylvie shoots at the guards who shed out, showing themselves to be
55Cs.

	She turns and runs, crashing out the second story window nearest her
bike.  She gets it started and takes off as the boomers give chase.

	Miyuki lands on the highway and Sylvie races by.

	*CRUMP* Muriel appears, spreading all eight legs onto the roadway for
supprt, then *BAMPH* steps on one of the 55Cs.

	Miyuki kicks the other, toe claws emerging from the boomer's back as
orange fire washes around her prettily, wafting her hair around.

	Sylvie broadslides to a stop at the edge of the drop off where the
highway ends.

	`Hey,' Miyuki calls, `Sylvie, are you OK?'

	`Miyuki!?'

	`Yep.  This,' She waves at the giant black and grey camoflage painted
form over her, `Is Muriel.  She's a friend.'

	`I,' Sylvie pauses, `I'd hope so,' she continues to hold her side, a
slow darkness seeping between her fingers.

	`You're hurt, let me see that,' Miyuki walks over and gently pulls
Sylvie's hand aside, placing her own over the wound, `And the data disk.'

	Sylvie looks surprised, but pulls the disk from under her leathers and
holds it out to Miyuki.  Miyuki looks at it, then pulls a matching drive from
nowhere, wraps a tenticle around it before taking the disk and slotting it in.

	`I didn't notice the tentacles,' Sylvie says as the drive whirs,
little blue light flashing to show it's reading data.

	`Yep.  I tend to hide them in my hair or down my shirt,' Miyuki smiles
up at her, `But they come in handy sometimes,' she uses the other one to
gather her hair and pull it out of the way, `See?' ducks her head to expose
the base of both, and the high-density data connectors underneath each.

	`Wow.  Don't you need to plug that in?' Sylvie gestures towards the
drive, which has gone silent.

	`No, wireless USB,' Miyuki shakes her head, `Never adopted here, like
cell phones.  Patent restrictions.'  After a moment, she smiles `And these are
the needed mods.'

	`Nanoconstructors are progged,' Muriel says, and a little robot, about
dragonfly size, whirs up on a pair of counter rotating wings, lands on
Sylvie's shoulder.  Its wings slow to a stop, then fold back as it walks
forward, unfolds a gleaming proboscis.

	`May I?' Miyuki asks.

	`Yes,' Sylvie says softly.

	The robot sinks its proboscis in, pauses a moment, then pulls back,
sprays a light coat of bandage, then walks back to Sylvie's shoulder,
unfolding its wings and starts them spinning.  It flits around to in front of
Sylvie's face, looking at her with gleaming compoud eyes, then flies off.

	`Thanks,' Sylvie says, as Muriel continues to doctor at her, tiny
robots working around where Miyuki has unzipped her, folding back her
leathers to expose the wound.  Tiny feet hold the wound closed while adhesive
bandages are applied, holding the wound closed, and coagulants are sprayed on
the welling blood.

	`Don't mention it,' Muriel says.

	`Why?'

	`She's out, finally,' Miyuki smiles.

	*crump* and a tiny waft of air over bare skin causes Sylvie to shiver,
then blink at the sight of a disoriented Priss looking around in the sudden
darkness.

	An instant later, her eyes light on the indistinct white form,
`Sylvie!' she gasps, stepping closer.

	Sylvie holds out a hand, `I'm fine.  Muriel's patching me up right
now.'

	Priss's eyes continue to adapt as she takes Sylvie's hand, and she
whimpers at the sight, pale flesh exposed to the night, the wound cleaned, but
surrounded by drying blood that continues down her side under her leathers, a
swarm of tiny robots working.  `Must be cold,' she jokes, `and that bra's
gotta go, it doesn't suit you at all.'

	`It was cheap and it fit,' Sylvie smiles up at Priss.

	`I know just the place to buy you a better one,' Priss smiles down at
her, `I'm so glad you're OK.'

	`Done,' Muriel says, `Don't jostle her too much for a few hours,' and
the little robots flitter away.

	`Right,' Priss says, gently pulling Sylvie's leathers closed and
zipping her up, `Lets get you home and washed up, then.'

	Miyuki kicks the two-stroke's kick stand up and walks it back over to
the other two, `Muriel, kneel down, please.'

	Muriel walks forward like a spider, two legs moving at a time, then
bends, bringing her back hatch down to only eight feet off the ground, and
opens it, the wide ramp dropping to touch the ground.  Priss and Sylvie step
up onto it, then Miyuki picks up the bike and follows, walking with them up
the ramp as it closes.

	`Dial Sylia's,' Miyuki says, then to Priss, `Tell her we found the
DD,' she hands over a commo headset.

	`Found the DD?'

	Sylvie looks stricken, and stiffens.

	`No,' Priss says softly.

	`Yes,' Sylvie says, softly, `I'm the vampire.  The DD's in the canyon
back there.'

	Priss whimpers, and holds her tight.

	`Raiding the blood banks was the only way I could think of that didn't
involve killing people, watching them as they died.'

	`You're lucky OFCs work for most people, then,' Miyuki says, laying a
spread hand on Sylvie's back, `Because you put all of the local blood banks
out of commission.'

	`Dial her,' Priss says, pulling on the headset one-handed.

	`Sylia?  I found, well, Miyuki found, but she's letting me have the
credit, the DD battlemover,' pause, `It's in the canyons, UE 09237645 [FIX
Grid] off the end of the old circle road,' pause, `No, no sign of the pilot,'
pause, `Me, Sylvie and Miyuki were out riding, and she found it, and has
surveilance on it.  Sylvie's a bit upset, so we're heading to her home,'
pause, `In the morning, OK?  Miyuki'll keep an eye on it until you get there,'
pause, `Thanks, bai.'

	`You lied for me,' Sylvie says softly.

	`I've lied for a lot of people.  Not to Sylia, though,' Priss hugs
her.

	Miyuki busies herself strapping Sylvie's bike down.
-

	`Strap in, we're here,' Miyuki says, suiting action to words.

	Priss and Sylvie follow suit.

	Muriel gathers her legs, then jumps, dropping through the open roof
into her room, landing almost silently.

	`What was that for?' Sylvie asks as Miyuki unstraps herself.

	`I'm used to her shaking things more,' Miyuki says, opening ratchet
straps.

	Muriel's back ramp drops, level with a catwalk.

-

	`Anri,' Miyuki greets the slender young woman who answers the door,
`I'm Miyuki.'

-

	`Most of you are now competent with the Naginata-'

	`Expert, more like,' someone whines.

	`Competent, and barely so, in some of your cases.  Anyway,' she draws
the word out, `So I'm going to introduce you to a weapon which needs the same
vigor and enthusiasm, the fixed bayonette,' Miyuki pulls an M1 Garand out of
nowhere, and sets it in order arms before producing the matching bayonette,
`Bayonets are sharp, Dark Kingdom bayonets are remarkably sharp,' she drops
it blade first, and it sinks to the handle in the asphault.  She pulls it out
with a flip of her left foot, catches it after it spins a few times in the air
and starts down again, then fixes it, `So they should always be treated with
respect.  While you are learning the basics I've mild steel to issue,' she
produces a dull bayonet shaped steel blank.

	`And once you're competent I've got some decent mokume forgings,' she
tosses the blank at Chie, who catches it.  She pulls out another bayonet,
thicker bladed than her own, `They're not as sharp, or as sturdy, as mine, but
they're good quality and available,' she drops it, and it sinks several
centimeters into the asphault.

	Several of the students look disapointed.

-

	`So a boomer with a mesiah complex decided to use the beam sats to
extort something out of Genom?' Miyuki asks, cross-legged on the floor,
looking even smaller than normal.

	`That's the gist of it.  He tried to blow the GPCC building, and was
in the Genom board's monitor room when he he failed.  He made a mess, killed a
few people, and fled,' Sylia says, `According to Genom's ELINT data, he used
the right codes.'

	`I fragged the system a couple months ago,' Miyuki shrugs, `HERAAS'd
the one overhead when you fought Mason's Hyperboomer, and shot a cleaner round
to take care of the rest of them.'

	`What?'

	`High Explosive Rocket Assisted Anti-Satelite.  Boom,' she cups her
fingers together, then draws them out, spreading them.

	`Oh.  Muriel can hit things in orbit?' Priss tunes back into the
conversation.

	`To Geosync, anyway.'

	Nene whistles, `That's a long way.'

	Sylia nods, `Genom wants this boomer found.  A hundred and twenty
million yen for proof of its destruction.'

	Linna whistles this time, `They want it dead really bad.  What does it
know that they're so desperate?'

	`We'll need it intact if we want to figure that out.  Which is where
you come in, Miyuki.'

	`Oh?'

	`Half.  Come along and provide whatever assistance you deem
appropriate.'

	`One quarter, can't launder much more than that at once.'

-

	
	

---
log:
---
2002/Spring:	Paper-draft
2003/Nov/28:	started typing in, log added, 
2004/Aug/17:	continued typing.
2005/Feb/24:	Continued typing.
2006/Oct/20:	Decided to toss "Rasberry Beret" into the song mix,
		to celebrate the realization that the CCs don't show
		up until 2034 . . . . 
		typed in a bunch of my draft from Feb 2002 ^_^
2006/Nov/10:	Finished my paper draft.  Thought Strawberry Marshmallow and
		Jigoku Shoujo would be amusing to mine for characters and
		situations . . . and I can't even claim I was drunk at the
		time.
2007/Jun/22:	re-read, fixed some typos and a couple FIXMEs.  I've a couple
		scenes I want to move, then maybe I'll start working on this
		again.