Chapter Thirty-four: With Apologies to George Lucas

Sailor Mercury tapped a final command into her palm-top computer. As she waited for the tiny wonder to complete its task, she glanced once more over at Sailor Venus. The blonde Scout was leaning far over the railing of the observation platform of the Tokyo Tower, staring down at the people milling around below. Mercury rarely tried to figure out why Venus did something anymore. While there was a strange kind of logic underlying the Love Scout’s actions, it was based almost entirely on emotions and a type of random association. Attempting to think like Mina Aino gives most people migraines. Finally giving into her curiosity, Mercury stepped over beside her friend. “What are you looking at?” Super Sailor Venus squealed and almost went tumbling over the rail. Mercury snagged her back bow and pulled her back from the edge.

“Thanks, Ames,” Venus panted. She shook herself like a dog shedding water. “Um, well I was looking at all the lines.”

“Lines?”

“Yeah, since I turned super, I’ve been seeing all these lines connecting people to each other. It’s kinda cool and kinda weird at the same time, like that movie with Julia Roberts in it, the one about magic spaghetti.”

Mercury’s eyebrows furrowed together for a second. “Oh, you mean Mystic Pizza. But that has nothing to do with… no never mind, don’t explain it to me.” A sudden thought straightened her spine. “These lines, could you use them to track down Cassandra or the Knight Protectors?”

Venus shrugged. “I’ve tried. Andrew and Cassie’s ‘line’ is the strongest, ‘cause they’ve reaffirmed their soul bond in this life. I can follow it from him, but it just stops like it was cut off, but not really. It’s real hard to explain.”

“I guess it’s no use even trying to track down the Knights, then.”

“I don’t know.” Venus spun lightly, sending her hair flying. “If they’re off in the Negaverse, no way. Maybe if they were here in Tokyo, but the lines are really faint and squiggly, like a pen running out of ink. Like that one,” she said, pointing toward something beside Mercury. A sudden light seemed to dawn on her. “Hey! That’s your love line!”

“Greg,” Mercury breathed. “Can you follow it?”

“On it, girl! Just stay behind me!” Venus sprinted toward the other side of the Tower. Mercury trailed behind her, her heart beating so hard that she thought it might spring from her chest.

*****

A feral grin shown like a sliver of polished bone from within the red and black darkness of Darth Maul’s face. Time seemed to crawl as Zoicite watched the muscles in the youma-Sith Lord’s shoulders bunch as he raised his lightsaber for the killing stroke. She threw up her hands in a futile attempt to protect herself as the red blade flashed down almost quicker than thought. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow. Lack of pain and a crackling hiss pried her eyes open. A shimmering disk little more than six inches across flickered between her and the ruby blade. As she watched, the disk stretched and flowed like molten glass to surround the entire lightsaber, including the severed hilt and Maul-youma’s gloved hand. The Sith Lord reared back, trying to pry the force field off with his free hand, and Zoicite rolled up on her knees and scampered away toward her crystalline sword.

Malachite was on his knees with both hands outstretched toward the youma-hybrid, intense concentration written on his face in deep, harsh lines. “Not so tough now are you?” he hissed as he extended the force field to capture the Sith Lord’s other hand. Maul struggled wildly, but the force field held him in place like a fish on a hook. Zoicite stumbled up behind Darth Maul and slammed the hilt of her sword on the back of his head. He went limp, dangling from the force field. Malachite dropped his hands and Darth Maul-youma fell bonelessly to the pavement.

Zoicite rolled the hybrid over with the toe of her boot. “He’s out cold.”

“Good,” Malachite mumbled as he rubbed his temples with trembling hands.

Zoicite wove her unsteady way over to her partner. She flopped down beside him on the curb. “You okay?” she panted.

“If you don’t count an amazing array of bruises and a migraine, yeah.”

Zoicite snorted derisively. “You’ll get over it. I think I scraped all the skin off my back.”

Anger flashed in Malachite’s cadet blue eyes briefly. “Take off your jacket.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. Take off your jacket. I need to see how badly you are hurt.”

Zoicite leaned away from him slightly. “What if tall, dark and toothy over there wakes up?”

“Do you really think we’re up to fighting him again?” She sighed and looked away. “That’s what I thought. Now take off your jacket.”

She still hesitated until he summoned a large first aid kit from sub-space. Zoicite unbuttoned the gray jacket, but froze as she tried to slip it over her shoulders. Tears of pain oozed from her eyes when she put strain on her already stiffening scrapes on her back.

“Let me help you.” Malachite said softly. He eased the jacket down over her shoulders and off her arms as Zoicite bit her lips to stifle her painful moans. She could only hear a few syllables of Malachite’s muttering, but knew the words were curses aimed at the fallen youma. She shuddered when he pulled her silk shell loose from her bloodied back. She kept her eyes fastened on the unconscious youma; if he so much as twitched, she was going to hit him again. If she cracked his skull, well, Andrew or Victoria could fix it later.

“The bastard did a real good job on you, Zoë. This is the worst case of road rash I’ve seen since the last time I watch Wile E. Coyote.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” she said breathily, “it hurts too much.”

Malachite growled and fumbled through his first aid kit. He pulled out a large vial of salve. As he opened it, he said, “This is probably going to hurt. Please don’t take a swing at me. I’m too tired to dodge.” He flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and slid a hand under the hem of her shirt.

“I’ll keep that in mi-IND!”

“What?!”

“It’s cold!”

He sighed heavily, the wind of his breath caressing the back of her bare neck. “Just stay still.” She tried to obey, but she trembled slightly. Even though she fought dutifully to keep her attention on the prisoner, the coolness of the salve and the warmth of Malachite’s hands were very distracting, so much so that she didn’t even notice the three Outer Scouts arriving until Neptune tactfully clear her throat. Malachite jumped and Zoicite shrieked as his hand pressed too hard on a particularly nasty scrape.

Uranus was glaring down at them. “I’m going to be really pissed if you two dragged us out of bed to come down here and watch you make out.”

“We’re not making out,” Malachite said, his voice flat and faintly derisive. “Look.” He lifted Zoicite’s shirt higher, revealing her back.

Neptune hissed in sympathy. “How did that happen?” she asked as Saturn hurried over to Zoicite, her hands already glowing with healing violet light.

“That did,” Zoicite said, jerking her chin toward the youma-hybrid. The Sith Lord’s black robes had so blended into the shadows that he was hard to see.

“Is that who I think it is?” Uranus asked.

“If you think it’s one of the Dark Lords of the Sith, specifically Darth Maul, then yep.” Malachite said. Uranus knelt by the hybrid to get a better look. “You know, we could just sic George Lucas’s lawyers on the Dark Kingdom and be done with it.”

“That would be entirely too cruel,” Zoicite replied. She sighed in relief when Saturn finished healing her back. “That’s enough, small fry. The rest will heal on its own soon enough. You’d best save your strength in case that thing decides to wake up.”

Saturn smiled shyly and nodded. “Alex-pappa, is that a real lightsaber?” she called to Uranus.

Uranus grinned widely. “It sure is. Look I can write your name!” She wiggled the blade so that it left a trail of briefly glowing letters in its wake. Neptune rolled her eyes and headed over to talk her lover out of her newest toy.

“Michael?” Zoicite said hesitantly. “About what I said earlier…” She stared down at the pavement beside her knees. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

“No, you weren’t,” he said. She looked up at him through her lashes. He was back to rubbing his temples as trying to wipe away his thoughts. His silence seemed to last forever. The sounds of the city, even the squabbling of the Outers, seemed as distant as the Moon herself. He dropped his hands to his lap. “Oh, to hell with it,” he said.

Her head jerked up; she was incensed that he would dismiss her feelings so cavalierly. Then he reached out to grab her chin in a grip like steel wrapped in velvet. “I think I’m in love with you, Zoë Wilton.”

*****

“They did just call us out here to watch them making out, didn’t they?” Uranus mock-growled. “Mavbe I should try this out on them.” She waved the lightsaber through a final loop before the weapon shorted out and died. “Oh, blast!”

Whether Neptune’s enigmatic smile was for the two sharing a first kiss in a pool of moonlight or for the way she had won the argument about the lightsaber on a technicality, only the mysterious soldier of the ocean knew for certain.

*****

Sailor Jupiter danced back and forth across the roof, a ball of lightning grasped in her hand. Each time Darth Vader came close to ending the duel in Nephrite’s death, she launched a ‘Thunderclap Zap’ at him. The Sith Lord easily deflected each one, but while he did so, Nephrite could shift out of killing range or deflect a fatal blow. The Scout of Nature’s cursing was solid and monotone. She knew she couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually, she’d be too slow or Nephrite’s smoking poleax would fail and then the Earth Guardian would die. His only chance was if the others made to the battle in time. “Where are you guys? C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

“Tell me,” Nephrite panted between parrying lightsaber strokes, “How did an annoying little kid like you score a complete babe like Amidala? And what’s with letting Jar Jar Binks follow you around? You got some kind of rubbery alien fetish?” Vader froze in place. Nephrite stumbled back, grateful for, if puzzled by, the unexpected break.

Darth Vader’s mechanical breathing took on an even harsher note. He held out his hand and Nephrite’s poleax was Force-yanked out of his hands. The weapon cartwheeled across the roof. The haft slammed into the back of Jupiter’s head as if flew past, dropping her bonelessly to the tarpaper. “I find your flippancy disturbing.”

Nephrite backed slowly away from the advancing black cloaked menace. “Heh, heh, where’s Grand Moff Tarkin when you need him? I didn’t mean anything by it. I mean you are the coo-oo-ah!” He dropped to his knees as he pawed at a throat that no longer drew air. Vader stood over him; the mechanical rasp of the respirator that kept the Sith Lord alive was as constant torturous reminder that all around him was sweet oxygen that simply could not pass through his constricted airways. His body shuddered as his lungs fought for air, for life. All flippancy, all pop culture riddled remarks fled into the darkness that was consuming him. The gleam of the city’s lights faded into indiscriminant shadows. As he waited for the legendary tunnel of light to come for him, Nathaniel Hawthorne whispered his regrets into the hollow place between life and death. ‘I wish I had told Mother I loved her before I left home…I wish I had laughed at Mike’s inane jokes…I wish I could have served my Prince out of honor instead of bewildered obligation…I wish I’d had the courage to damn society and asked Molly to date me…I wish…”

Nephrite gasped, his lungs filling with the acrid, smog ridden air of downtown Tokyo. Nothing had ever felt or tasted so wonderful. He blinked bleary eyes expecting to see Vader looming over him ready to deliver the coup de grace with his ruby lightsaber. Instead he beheld an angel clad in strangely patterned flowing garments and holding a tall staff topped with a crescent moon. She was yelling something that echoed strangely in his returning hearing. She almost sounded like Molly, but that was ridiculous.

“And for anotha’ thing!” the angel bellowed as she stood between Nephrite and Vader, “The Dark Side of the Force can kiss my ass!” Nephrite blinked again, trying desperately to clear his eyesight. The angel sounded exactly like Molly and now that color was returning, it seemed the angel had red hair.

Vader thumbed his lightsaber back on. “You do not know the power of the Dark Side. You do not stand a chance against me child.”

The angel twisted her staff in her hands. The crescent moon straightened and sank back into the shaft. The staff then separated a third of the way from the top, the two pieces remained linked by a foot long chain. She started the short end of flail spinning. “We’ll see ‘bout that!” Vader swung his lightsaber and the angel parried it, barely. If the Sith Lord had been the type of villain that laughed maniacally, he would have been doing so now. The angel was badly overmatched, panting and stumbling minutes into the duel. Vader was obviously playing with her.

“Your feelings betray you, child,” Vader intoned casually, “You care deeply for this man, but it will avail neither him nor you. My master has decreed his death. Yours will simply be for my pleasure.” He slashed at her in a vicious overhand blow. The angel grasped the short end of the flail in one hand and pulled the chain taut. She managed to catch the blow on the chain, but was force to sink down in the full splits in order to keep her upper body upright and her weapon raised.

A couple of things suddenly dawned on Nephrite. The angel’s flowing robes were actually baggy pajamas patterned with characters from Hamtaro. The other was the angel really was Molly Baker. The Earth Guardian scrambled to his feet, filled with a sudden rage the likes of which the flighty astronomy major had never known. Fury drove him at reckless speed through his mantra. “The stars know everything and everything is ruled by the stars. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor come forth!” The linked constellations appeared as sparkling points of light that suddenly blossomed into solid creatures. A hoard of sweatdrops hovered near both Vader and Molly.

The taller bear straightened his tie and his hat and said, “Hey, Boo-boo, I think that guy is molesting that lady.”

The smaller bear nodded. “You’re right, Yogi. But what are we going to do about it?”

“I’ll think of something, Boo-boo. After all, I am smarter than the average bear!” The two cartoon bears’ eyes glowed a demonic red. They sprouted claws and fangs and sprang for the Sith Lord youma-hybrid. Molly could only watch in slack-jawed disbelief as the rabid Hanna-Barbera characters mauled one of the most powerful villains of all time.

Nephrite crouched by her. “Are you crazy?!” he demanded, “You could have been killed!”

“Me crazy?” Molly waved a hand at the trio wrestling their way across the roof as bits and pieces of black cape floated through the air like Goth confetti. “What about you? Is there a single constellation that you don’t link with a cartoon?!”

“Umm, no,” Nephrite said. He was very grateful for the darkness that so kindly hid his blushing cheeks. “Why did you come? And where did you get this thing?” He poked the flail that was now laid across the leg she had stretched out in front of her.

“I had to come help. I was the closest to you,” she dropped her eyes, “and I was so sick of just sitting on the sidelines. I, I knew that Lady Melinda had some training, ‘cause she was supposed to be the last line of defense for Princess Serenity. I called for Melinda’s staff of office and it came to me. So, so I climbed out my window and ran this way.” She grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here. It took foreva to find a way up here.”

Nephrite squeezed her hand. “From my point of view, you came at just the right time.” She smiled up at him. “Why don’t you get up?”

Molly yanked her hand free and crossed her arms across her chest. She muttered something under her breath.

“What?” Nephrite protested, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” she ground out between clenched teeth, “I’m stuck.”

Nephrite swallowed his laugh, but couldn’t stop his lips from twitching. He stood and slipped a hand under each of arms and lifted her up to her feet. He wondered at how tiny and light she was as he held her up off the ground.

“You can put me down,” Molly whispered.

“No,” he replied softly, “no I don’t think I can.” He pulled her closer, his cocky grin returning when her arms slipped around his neck. “I don’t intend to have any regrets.” He kissed the girl’s soft lips and for the second time that night, the world faded away. Even the arrival of Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars, Tuxedo Mask, Jadeite, and Minerva (accompanied by Moon’s loud cries of ‘you go girl!’ and ‘woo-hoo, Molly!’) failed to spoil his good mood.

Sailor Moon’s happy shrieks managed to rouse Jupiter who sat up groaning and holding her head. Minerva hurried to her side. He was still healing her when Yogi and Boo-boo reappeared from the far side of the shadowed roof, dragging a badly battered Darth Vader-youma between them. Jupiter looked at the bizarre trio, shook her head, and looked again. They were still there. “Am I hallucinating?”

“If you are,” Minerva answered, “we all are.”

“Here’s the bad guy,” Yogi said, “Now do we get a pic-a-nic basket?”

Nephrite said, “Sorry guys. Not this time.” He waved a hand and the bears dissolved back into stars and sparkling dust.

“If we’d had one, Serena would have emptied it already,” Mars replied. Before the princess could reply, she added, “Well, Meatball-head, get on with it.”

“You’re so mean! Moon Enchanted Purification!” With the youma-hybrid returned to pure human, Sailor Moon proceeded to get into a tongue war with her Sailor Scout.

“My lord,” Jadeite said, “is this normal behavior?” The Guardian waved a hand to encompass the squabbling Scouts, Nephrite and Molly whispering together, Jupiter giving Minerva a blow-by-blow description of the battle before she was knocked unconscious, and the Outer Guard leaping toward them over the rooftops carrying a limp man-sized bundle as Malachite and Zoicite trailed behind them.

“For this bunch,” Tuxedo Mask said, “this is about par for the course.”