Fatal Fury Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sailor Rifts ❯ Chapter 42: Through Many Persuasions Seen the Same Storm ( Chapter 42 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington

Chapter 42: Through Many Persuasions Seen the Same Storm

She stood fully armed, by sword, dagger, and martial skill, well
endowed, in figure, musculature, and attitude in confidence. Her
great, scarlet spiked hair contrasting her deep blue eyes
dramatically, her orange-yellow short sleeved overcoat hanging
voluminously from her shoulders.

'Who is she Nasura?' Masurani demanded, biting her words, and temper,
short. 'Where's Goku?'

The unfamiliar woman gazed at her meaningfully.

'I'm Goku's replacement. It's complicated, but the short of it is he
finally managed to find home, and he asked me to take his place here.'

'Really,' Masurani began heatedly, in a terse, challenging tone. 'Goku
was my sensei! Does your power level compare to his? To mine, even?'

'That's you? I'm honoured to meet you,' she smiled, bowing deeply.
'You are Sailor...'

'Titan,' she offered, face deepening with a sharp and sudden blush as
she bowed hastily in reply. 'Um... thank you, um...'

'Zia. Actually, Goku and I are about even. We've been friends for a
few years, and I've helped him out of a few binds.'

'You're Zia?!' she blinked, regarding the buxom woman with skepticism.
'What are you trained in, anyway, with a figure like that?'

She brushed off the reference to her remarkable body type with a short
lived grin.

'Silver Claw, mainly.'

Masurani's jaw dropped.

'No way! They almost wouldn't teach me... and I'm nowhere near built
like you!'

'It's complicated,' Zia stated, one hand moving to a hip, the other
waving off Masurani's continuing attentions.

'And you're how old?'

'Twenty-four.'

'Holy...!'

Nasura severed the conversation with a curt gesture.

'This is all well and good, but we haven't time for it. Jake?'

'Yes ma'am?' he offered, stepping from beyond the open door to the
dojo.

'It's time they learned about the CSM.'

He nodded deftly.

"I'm Jake Yyone, for starters," he half smiled as he spoke in western
accented English. "I command eighty-seven troops who..."

His words were intersected a violent expulsion of force. All eyes fell
upon Haisha, who rubbed her red nose.

"Sorry," she offered with a sniff, looking dim eyed and ill focused.

"You look pale," Nasura noted with sharp concern. "How are you
feeling?"

"Sick," she remarked with an irksome grin. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Ayla quested, examining her military strategist with
all due anxiety.

"Sure, as long as someone has some tissue," she sniffed, blinking
slowly. Naritha pulled a handful from a black purse resting upon the
table at which she sat. "Thanks."

Nasura nodded to Jake.

"Continue."

Looking somewhat stunned, he nodded.

"Sure. Anyway, we're the 'Coalition Society of Mutants.' We're
basically a bunch of grunts who banded together because our uniqueness
couldn't be tolerated by our military outfit. You Ayla Apollo?'

Her tense expression eased, and she studied him with a less than
formal regard.

"That's me," she replied in very faintly Japanese accented English.

He smiled faintly at her. There was a comfortable, and noticeable
pause before he continued.

"My troops are yours," he stated coolly. She blushed, swallowing,
feeling a stern warmth rise in her face. He glanced at her, plain
faced, yet knowing his effect upon her. He bowed his head, releasing
her from their locked gaze.

"How do you... no," she nigh stuttered, flustered. "Nasura. Of
course."

"Actually, it was Carl Silver, the angel Minako's husband, who told me
'bout you."

His smile struck a warm chord through her being. At first she returned
it, but as the overall seriousness of their immediate situation set
in, she frowned, crossing her arms across her body.

"How well equipped are your troops?"

He blinked, stunned by her abrupt coldness.

"Very well, thanks to Carl. We have twenty-five power armored
troops..."

A trio of sneezes tore through the sentence like wet paper.

"Bless you, Haisha," Naritha added thoughtfully. Haisha bowed her head
apologetically, tossing the torn tissue into a nearby wastebasket as
she retrieved another with which to wipe her nose.

"What a perfect bloody time for a cold," she cursed to herself.

"Power armored?"

He nodded curtly.

"Exoskeleton robot armor," another female voice elaborated. "Enhances
all physical capabilities of the pilot."

Zia nodded with a grin. A slender, comparably endowed woman glided up
to Zia, adorned in leather, her blond bobbed hair framing her innocent
looking face in a highly stylized manner. Ayla regarded her with a
non-too-vague unfriendly expression.

"And you are?"

"Nisika," she stated, bowing deeply at the waist. "Hello Ayla Apollo.
I am ready to assist your war effort."

Ayla glanced at Zia, prodding her for a explanation she determined
would come soon. Zia's nod went largely unnoted as Nisika swiveled her
wide hips towards the others, after which her torso followed suit.

"Neo Senshi, introduce yourselves..." Ayla commanded with a strike of
ire in her tones.

---

A summary, with the multitude of events? Impossible. For who qualifies
are notable? Even the faintest hint of fledging support?

Doubtful.

The main players, however, quite remarkable.

So, then, just where are we? Or, more precisely, where are they?

Tsukino Usagi. A woman now respected by many, and arguably moreso than
ever, as an angel of glory. Once a frightened teenager, then a
frightened Demon Hunter of incredible power then an angel of much
respect and holiness. Indeed a force who will receive due reckoning.

Chiba Mamoru. The ever-faithful soulmate any woman should desire. His
integrity could nigh literally shift mountains. Never the scared
adolescent, and always the confident, powerful protector of the girls
known as the Pretty Sailor Soldiers, and most notably his wife-to-be,
Usagi. As Tuxedo Kamen, the champion of good, as an Earth Child, the
unconditional rage engine of justice, and the time period of which he
was not born. Now more dedicated to Usagi than ever, their separation
only strengthening the already deep bond shared.

Mizuno Ami. Unquestionably the most tortured of the five. An
intellectual young woman placed in a world where such talent means
little, especially from the perspective of a slave, to the Splugorth.
Shattered physically by being submitted to the cage of the Coalition.
Reduced to half-woman half-machine, and to the retreat of her mind. As
a barmaid in a foreign yet seemingly safer dimension, burning at the
stake, not to mention the slaughter of her half-demon adopted
daughter. Then, both reborn as angels, as much as married to...

Natole Shard. A "Warrior of Mercy." With as much physical power to
inspire the nickname "One-Punch" as ability to heal. A solitary minded
half-giant with a true, and dedicated heart. In all honesty, it would
be a fair stretch for him to conceive deception. Like any honorable
father, loving and kind, warding threat with force of word and power
of destruction. Together, they have founded new hope in love, life,
and survival.

Hino Rei. Once the firebrand. As much as that shall change naught. Yet
where there was once an angry young woman, then a vengeance seeking
mage of the flame, then a doubtful lover, is a slight more complacent
expecting angel mother. She has had her trials, her time for
struggles, as the others, but earned, and deserves the love she has
received from...

Adolphus Jusine. To what can be attributed this man but enviable
patience and integrity? Perfect? No, but certainly Rei's world is a
better one for his place in it. Yet what about him? A gifted mage of
another realm, one in which Rei was forced to enter into sexual
contact with a well-loved friend. A point forgiven in the wake of
Adolphus' insurmountable feelings for her.

Kino Makoto. Always a woman of raw physical intensity, a survivor as
the others. The innate warrior. As Sailor Jupiter, a skilled senshi,
the most physically intense of the five girls, and a no-holds barred
warrior, unafraid to face the truth, and speak when others would not.
As Sliver, the survivor of Atlantis, a CyberKnight, retrained warrior
against evil, her focus ever unchanged despite adversity.

:Carl?:

And now, an angel of war, continually willing, and increasingly able
to destroy the forces employed by Uraki-Ayo.

:Now would be a really good time to begin sending the CSM to the Neo
Senshi:

:Yes, angel warrior, you are quite right:

Hanlan Ireson. Married, and bonded very dramatically to Makoto,
enthralled by her beauty and fighting gift. While far from the ideal,
a charming and faithful man, with a great deal of learned respect for
his wife. Ultimately confused by Ayana's birth and age, but generous
in love as acceptance.

Aino Minako. If ever a life was twisted, her is a prime example of
experience in adversity. Once a teenager of manipulative looks, and
never far from willing to use her looks to achieve a goal. Yet never
for want in moral strength. After many months of abuse and
degradation, losing her looks to the world she already hated. Then,
after recovering Usagi, her rebirth as an angel, with an appearance
exceeding her beginning standard by a large degree.

Carl Silver. Her mate, if even of draconian nature. To refuse the love
learned, pure folly. While doubtful, in the beginning, the possibility
of consummating their relationship arriving through her
transformation, evening the field, and opening the doors to their
world, to their love.

In summary, the most important point being their survival, as
incredible as it may seem.

---

"Ninety two. Great," Haisha added sarcastically. "Well, I guess that's
better than nothing. If we don't mount an attack soon, Uraki will,
even though the Inner Senshi are likely there already. With any luck,
he'll be too busy to direct his forces to complicate things for us."

"Haisha-chan, I am detecting external motion," Nisika blurted. "Many
bodies are advancing upon building."

While the rest of the room sat in shock, Zia stood unfazed.

"How many, Nisi?"

The shapely creature gazed at Zia, blinking rapidly.

"They exceed my ability to count. I estimate, however, two to two
point four thousand hundred bodies given their density and rate of
approach. Expected time of arrival, one minute, thirty-four seconds."

"Dammit!" Ayla cursed, slipping out of her trance of terror. "Senshi
transform!"

In no more than a plain burst of light, each young woman manifested
their peak level of protection.

"Sailor Sol - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Sol, a flexible suit of
mystic silver, an extension of her original armlets, breastplate and
shin guards. Not a crystal shone aside from the miniscule gem glinting
prettily upon her red-tinted choker. A crimson aura lighted about her,
an additional buffer against the violence yet to come.

"Sailor Titan - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Titan, a heavy classic
suit of plate and chain mail. It was sleek, and ultra-light, despite
the appearance of girth. A brown plume set upon her helmet, the visor
of which was transparent, giving her an unobstructed view through it.
She held a beautifully crafted bladed steel alloy staff, thus prepared
only physically for the worst.

"Sailor Phoenix - Crisis-is-ah, ah, achooo! ...Armor Henshin!" Sailor
Phoenix, in a slim casing of curve-hugging mystic metal. The suit
covered her shoulders where the former had not. Beyond this was her
aura of living flame, pulsing enraged, seeking personal revenge. She
slipped both katana and wakasashi blades free of their scabbards, and
fell into a few motions of ken so deeply ingrained they were nearly
genetic, then sneezed.

"Oh gross," qouth she at the contents of the sneeze which coated the
inside of her visor.

"Sailor Seraph - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Seraph, in a style
similar to that of her friend, had manifested a bodysuit of polymetal,
her arms laden with massive gauntlets with great ball-like elbow pads.
Her hair had disappeared under a thick helmet of carefully reinforced
chi-charged mystic metal. An aura of seawater-like energy - oddly
enough - swam about her also, but spiked impressively at her clenched
hands and narrowed eyes.

"Sailor Mortalis - Death Armor Henshin!" Sailor Mortalis had shielded
herself in a suit similar to Masurani's, yet the overt darkness
contrasted the others startlingly and gave them cause to wonder.

"I'm Sailor Mortalis, remember? I couldn't fight in pinks and
flowers!" she laughed, snapping up a brutal looking pair of silver
bladed war-hammers. "Are we gonna fight, or what?"

"Yeah, but there's one very important factor missing here," Haisha
blurted. "Where are the troops?"

"On the way! Carl is transporting them personally!"

"He doesn't have that long!" Ayla observed, to which Haisha nodded
reply. The group stood in apt tension, awaiting the attack. A steady,
sub-sonic rumbling increased in strength invariably until it nearly
reduced the building to its component materials, at which point the
shuddering halted.

"We are completely encapsulated by our opponents," Nisika noted,
without the tension in the tones of her nearly erotic voice that
seemed due.

Dumbly, they gazed about, expecting and almost hoping for the battle
to just begin. A sharp, agonized gasp snapped forth. The white robed
form of Nasura cringed and folded in the middle, her face a twisted
pantomime of unutterable terror and soul-slivered pain. The stun in
the room was comparable to the hypothetical appearance of Uraki-Ayo
that very instant. Ayla moved as a bolt of searing light, catching her
mentor, watching her faintly whisper:

'Forgive me, Ayla-chan.'

Even as her eyes closed, her body drew cold, as ice, the eyelids
closed by the young woman over her glazed brown eyes.

'Mentor! No!'

Ayla's cry was lost in the thunderous splitting destruction of the
roof as hundreds of the shadowlings descended in something not too
unlike bloodthirsty glee.

"Kamehame!" Masurani shouted, a large, sweeping blast vaporizing the
dozen or so creatures orienting on the emotionally rapt girl.

:Damn you Uraki-Ayo; Haisha thought vindictively. :We don't have time
to mourn!: "Senshi! Mobilize and strike! Defend Sailor Sol until she
regains her, uh..."

The sallow deepening of Ayla's aura caught Haisha, bringing her to
silence. She merely gazed on as the young leader leapt up, Nasura's
empty, grey corpse falling loosely to the floor, her armored figure
alight with a crimson aura of emotional power. Like a finely crafted
katana she sliced a clear path into the depths of the onrushing army,
and seemed to disappear.

"Zia! After her - uh ... oh. Bloody hell," she cursed, then issued
forth another violent sneeze. So had she and her companion done.
Glancing up, and half aware she was watching eight shadowlings
descending upon her, she cried out as she was knocked down by a
slender, dark figure.

"C'mon Phoenix, get it together!" Jisuruka snapped, pushing off her
prone companion. She grinned and squeezed Haisha's thigh suggestively.
"You're leadin' 'til she gets back. What are we after?"

"Um..." she fought back the stern blush rising in her cheeks, feeling
grateful for the concealing helmet.

"She'll be back. For now just fight! We've got to beat a path to the
crystal!"

"Gotcha!" she nodded energetically, before flying into an easy seeming
violent rage against the literal swarm of enemy.

:At least I hope she will...:

---

=Zia, I can't maintain this speed without burning out my pulse
accelerators.=

Zia tapped a stylish black oval hair clip just above her left ear.

"Then don't. Get back and help the others."

She nodded, cutting the power to the aforementioned engines and
seeming to disappear.

=Sorry Zia-san.=

"Y'do what y' can. Forget it."

=I will try.=

---

'I've been waiting for this!' cried a voice triumphantly. Despite her
apparent fury, she beheld the creature with unmasked shock. 'Stupid
girl. You want to fight me?'

'Mamoru?!? But that's... that's... you're a clone! Like the others!'

'But so much more powerful than even that whore, Jisi.'

Ayla snarled at this.

'You can't win, you know.'

'I already have. Not going to miss that dried out old husk, are you?
Neat little trick I..." his voice was severed by a thundering roar as
his body exploded in a burst of white heat. Glancing up as she clasped
her hands to her loudly ringing ears, Ayla emitted a brief gasp. Five
twelve foot tall shining monsters of near mirror like armor hovered
strangely in the air, looking slightly demonic as they held what
appeared to be double barreled weapons on one shoulder. The closest of
the five saluted and spoke in booming tones, which, fortunately,
topped the loudness of the staccato tones rattling in her head:

"Glitter Men Power Armored Troops at your service Sol Ma'am."

She wanted to fold up and cry, but instead replied his offered salute.

"You're doing fine! Keep it up!" she yelled with feigned confidence.

"Yes Ma'am! Thanks Ma'am!"

:What happened? Just like that? The last clone killed? Nasura's death
avenged?: As she heard the bellowing of shadowlings about her, she
decided it would be best not to question Phate's designs. With a
hesitant snarl, she summoned her daggers of light and fell against the
wave of rising foe. :There's no time to question it, besides!:

"Frick, I'm barely sixteen! Call me Sailor Sol!"

"Yes Ma'am... uh, Sailor Sol!"

:May God preserve us all!:

---

"Mamoru, needs must we join them!"

The words came across the small table like a gunshot, causing all of
the battle-tense men to flinch.

"Uh... Of course," he replied, nodding curtly at the somewhat alarmed
looking Atlantean mage.

"Frickin' hell!" Hanlan growled uneasily. "Where in bloody blazes is
Carl?"

Without effect, he appeared, looking disheveled, but altogether well.

"I'm done. They've got the troops now. Proving their worth already,"
he noted breathlessly. "Adolph, cast your spell and get us the hell
there already!"