_______________________________________________________________________

There were honestly times when Sailor Pluto despised her job, though that was probably just her mortal side showing through. After all, what mortal truly enjoyed their job so completely they never desired for a holiday?

In the Guardian's mind, there was no doubt that even the benevolent Neo-Queen occasionally wished to be able to leave her duties for weeks at a time, but as she had once been Tsukino Usagi, that wasn't unusual. Usagi-chan never had been too fond of her mission, of her destiny, she had always wanted to be normal.

Sailor Pluto smiled faintly at this thought. It never ceased to amaze her, to see the ever-exchanging reluctance and fierce determination that plagued them all, herself included. Ten'ou Haruka's initial unwillingness had been something that stayed with her for a long time, because it had been Michiru who had pulled her into it...

But she was digressing. It was Prince Saffir re'Adamant and the Lord Marshall of the Black Moon Family that concerned her now. It was stupid, the whole situation was ridiculous. Technically, she had made a bit of a cock-up, but it was too late to revoke her decision now...

She sighed, and began to wish that even the Guardian of Time could have annual paid holidays... or even sick leave occasionally. Certainly, the present situation was more than adequate to mentally unhinge even Sailor Pluto herself.

­ ­ ­

Esmeraude hummed lightly to herself as she finished her midmorning preening at the mirror, finally satisfied with her appearance. Usually this task took a good deal more time, but the faint worry at the back of her mind sort of ruined her day. She had neither seen nor heard from her cousin since he had gone to see Queen Beryl-sama -- alone.

During the audience, Esmeraude had had a rather enjoyable conversation with the second king, discovering that he wasn't quite as impossibly arrogant as she had first believed. He had even commented on her talent in regards to her fans, which had surprised and pleased her to no end. Not to mention the baka prick had rather impeccable taste in his alcohol. It was even possibly better than that of Dimando-sama, Esmeraude had reluctantly admitted in her mind.

However, what she had found rather interesting were the facts he had admitted about his own mission to Earth, and the three Senshi that ran around and created general chaos for him.

She thought of admitting there were actually five -- and occasionally more -- of the harridans, but then kept her mouth shut. It was as much for the fun of not wanting to spoil the surprise as for not wanting to annoy Saffir. Instinctively she knew that Saffir would blow yet another head gasket if she started blurting out classified information like that to Nephrite, of all people. He had already lost enough of his marbles; he couldn't afford to lose any more by giving her a piece of his mind.

And speaking of Saffir...

I wonder where Useless has gotten to now? she mused quietly to herself, carefully arranging her hair about her face so that it fell in perfect, pale verdant waves. Surely an audience wouldn't have taken this long...?

It was at that moment the doors to her borrowed chambers were flung open, swiftly followed by the form of her cousin, who stormed across the room and threw himself into the nearest armchair looking... less than happy.

"What's up your nose, Useless?" asked Esmeraude lightly, not actually sparing him a look by turning around. She much preferred to keep an eye on him through the mirror, because then she got the simply divine view of herself, too.

Saffir was looking at his hands, held together in his lap, the pale hands nervously working around each other. "Good morning to you too, Esmeraude-san."

"Social call, Saffir?"

"Hardly," he replied, and then sighed. "I think that my letter may have gotten through to Dimando-oniisan. Certainly, I haven't seen it since I sent it."

She raised an eyebrow, fishing out a brush to work a little more on her hair. "You're relying on the default postal worker of the Time Door?"

He shrugged, still not looking at her. "Stupid, but necessary. However, I'd trust Sailor Pluto-sama more than I'd trust your average Terran postal worker."

She shrugged, bored with the rather mundane subject matter. She already knew full well that the letter held no great significance, is was just Saffir's attempt to reach his brother one last time. She honestly could have throttled Saffir for being so damned pessimistic, but that was Saffir's inherent nature.

"Where've you been all this time anyway, Saffir? I wouldn't have thought an audience with that woman would last all night."

Saffir winced; Esmeraude caught the gesture easily enough. In fact, it made her still while a thought occurred to her. She stared at her cousin in the mirror for a few seconds longer as she entertained it, noting the way his eyes were downcast, the way his hands were nervously plucking at the many crystal clasps on his Savant's uniform.

Carefully, she put the brush down, and turned to face Saffir, casually leaning back against the dark dresser, which was in accordance with the dark dŽcor of the entire room. "Saffir... you didn't." A smile crossed her face as she began to realise exactly what Saffir was insinuating by not immediately leaping to his own defence, when it was painfully clear he did know exactly what she was implying. "My God, Saffir! I wouldn't have thought you would have it in you, but..."

"Well, Esmeraude, technically speaking, I wasn't exactly the one who had something in me," Saffir replied mildly, and Esmeraude almost choked. It wasn't only what Saffir was implying that got her attention, it was the placid tone in which he admitted to his faux pas that startled her. Saffir was a notoriously private person, she wouldn't have expected this from her blue-haired cousin... not to mention, she had always thought he would never get over Petz, even though he had dumped her for reasons he wouldn't divulge to even his beloved oniisan...

"Saffir, I don't think I understand..."

He raised a weary hand, looking harassed. "Esmeraude, shut up."

Her blood began to boil slightly -- how dare he be so rude to her, when she had made the effort to be more than slightly civil to him lately?! "I shall pretend I didn't hear that, Saffir."

He looked up at her with impassive eyes for perhaps a second before he replied, "Then I shall have to say it again."

Outraged, Esmeraude snapped "Then you will have to say it again?!"

Saffir gave her a quizzical look, the beginnings of a mocking smile on his pale lips. "Are we getting an echo in here?"

Esmeraude, to her credit, did not take that open invitation for a nice little argument. Instead, she spun back around, reassuming her brushing. "I'm surprised, Saffir... what made you do it?"

Shaking his dark head, Saffir didn't deign to say anything further, which Esmeraude thankfully took as a not-too-subtle hint that he didn't want to relive his experience behind those closed doors. However, she couldn't resist saying "I wonder what Dimando-sama will think..."

Saffir's silence indicated that perhaps it was time to move on. She felt a pang of sympathy for Saffir as she abandoned her brush to go and sit beside him in a different chair, noting the way he seemed to have...faded.

Yes, Saffir had changed in his separation from his brother, and this latest development with Beryl probably had remarkably little to do with his current depression. Esmeraude thought idly to herself that Saffir probably never would have succumbed to Beryl if he had any hope at all of seeing his brother again. "Tell you what, Saffir, what's say you and me play a game?"

He finally looked up, his dusky blue eyes curiously blank. "A game?"

She smirked as she reiterated his earlier reply, but there was a touch of gentleness in her voice as she did so. "Are we getting an echo in here?"

Saffir shook his head, looking bemused. "If you want to play, Esmeraude, I know a good word game. Here, make a sentence out of these words; 'shut -- sodding -- face -- your.'"

Esmeraude simply smiled at that, and swatted his head affectionately with her latest fan. "Saffir, really. You need to lighten up a little bit, you know? After all, soon our all-expenses paid trip to the Dark Kingdom will be over, and you and I will have to get back to work."

Saffir muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but Esmeraude chose to ignore it, taking her cousin's nearest hand and yanking the Blue Prince of Nemesis to his feet. "Now, listen you, cheer up. You and I, we're going on a little tour of the Dark Kingdom. Now, while it admittedly hasn't seen a qualified interior decorator in centuries, my conversation last night has piqued my interest in what relics may lie around here."

That got Saffir's wandering attention. "What conversation?" he asked suspiciously, in his typically paranoid manner.

Esmeraude giggled in her high-pitched manner, but Saffir bore it without changing expression. Unlike his brother, who would quite often tell her to quit it, Saffir only stared at her indifferently while she indulged in a good laugh. She swept on however, and smiled generously at her cousin. "Why, my conversation with Nephrite-sama, naturally. And before that nasty little mind of yours starts up the rumour-mill, you were the only one who scored last night."

She regretted that comment as soon as it fell from her lips -- the stare Saffir was giving her was far from kind. His words, though, were unreadable. "Seeing as this could prove interesting, I shall overlook that comment. What did he say that got your notoriously short attention, itoko?"

Esmeraude waved her fan open with a theatrical flick of her wrist. "Well, he did mention a rather interesting fact -- were you aware of the other king?"

Saffir cocked as eyebrow as he looked at the green-haired woman appraisingly. "You mean Jadeite?"

Slightly put-out that he had already known her little tid-bit, Esmeraude pouted for a moment, then brightened. "Yes, I mean Jadeite! What do you say we go and find him, annoy him a bit? After all, perhaps he could help us in getting home."

Saffir seemed bemused by Esmeraude's exuberance. "Care to run that by me again?"

Esmeraude sighed impatiently, but she resisted the temptation to insult her dear relative any further. Almost bubbling over with pride in herself, Esmeraude replied "If we free him from that sleep crystal, he'll be indebted to us, right? And then he'll have to help us get home!"

Saffir sighed. "If he's still alive in that godforsaken prison, and if he knows anything about time travel, which I doubt..."

"Oh, but Saffir, Nephrite told me something rather interesting about Jadeite-sama... apparently, he had a youma who had a rather clever hold over time. Perhaps she leant it from her master...?"

The ao no oji shrugged, not caring to object. His knowledge about Jadeite's activities was practically non-existent, anyway. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to have a look at this slumbering king."

Esmeraude almost clapped in sheer delight, and Saffir almost laughed, as he began to cheer up considerably. It was an idiotically unlikely plan -- typical of Esmeraude -- but it was worth a shot... Esmeraude was quite well-known for making things work through her sheer determination. She had an iron will, for all her other faults, and she was certainly more powerful that she let on. They had that in common, at least; Saffir also hid his true power, his true potential often remained locked deep inside himself.

She cast him a grin that could only be described as impish in the next second. "And if he proves to be useless, we'll just get rid of him, ne? And if Beryl finds out and is... unimpressed, I'm sure you'll be able to think of a way to calm her temper..."

"I'll let you have that one, Esmeraude, but only because I know that you drooled shamelessly over Kunzite without once realising that he shares his bed with Zoisite."

Esmeraude snorted and turned to the door. She suddenly stilled; with precise slowness she turned to face her grinning cousin, her deep brown eyes wide and disbelieving. She remembered Kunzite saying something to her earlier

in regards to his marital status, but she had never thought... wasn't Zoisite his student?!

She had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she broached the topic to her cousin, who was standing across from her with his head cocked to one side in an oddly canine manner. "You mean to tell me that Kunzite sleeps with Zoisite?"

"Well, I can't say anything about what goes on behind closed doors, but I would assume..." His voice trailed off for a moment, before he suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh. "Wait, wait a minute... you mean to tell me you didn't know even now that they are lovers?"

Esmeraude frowned; she didn't like the comical expression on his suddenly animated face. "How the Hell was I supposed to know, Saffir?"

"You mean, you didn't see any clues?" Saffir choked on his own mirth, just barely managing to contain his laughter.

"What clues?" she snapped, her hand suddenly itching to slap the physicist.

"What, like Zoisite hanging off his every word? Smiling at him beatifically? Calling him 'Kunzite-sama' while staring at him in a manner most decidedly inappropriate for a student to look at his teacher?"

"And those are clues?!" Esmeraude almost shouted, increasingly annoyed and embarrassed by Saffir's latest revelation.

Saffir couldn't help it, he exploded with laughter. "Well, they're blatant clues, aren't they?" He then sobered quickly, his dusky eyes bright with his glee. "So, all this time, you honestly didn't... oh, that's classic, that is, that's classic..." And he started laughing all over again.

It was some time before they actually managed to begin looking up the now-defunct king.

­ ­ ­

Lord Serpentine shaded his eyes from the sun, blinking painfully in the full, merciless golden light of the daystar.

Honestly, if Earth people had had the sense that the Powers gave to a hidebehind beast, they would've lived just a few more planets outward, where the sunlight wasn't so goddam cursed bright.

"Your orders, Lord Marshal?" his lieutenant said deferentially. "Sir?"

Serpentine turned to him, startled. "My orders? Oh, yes."

Oh yes indeed. The many-rayed warship Darksnake hovered just over Crystal Tokyo, surrounded by an armada of the "flying chandelier" dreadnoughts so favored by the late Field Marshal Lord Garnet; they coated over the glimmering shield as flies might cluster around a Jell-o mold. Every ship remaining to Nemesis was now waiting for Serpentine's order to attack.

The shield had already shown signs of weakness near the very apex, by the tallest tower of the Palace, and near the base, at a small gateway near a rose garden. According to the Palace blueprints, captured at great cost near the beginning of the war, this was Endymion's private garden, and had been invested by the god-empress' consort with some of his power. It was only natural that the Senshi-generated shield would be relatively weak at one of Endymion's nodal points; Earth itself would intervene on behalf of its avatar in protest against other planet avatars' "interference."

Serpentine found it enormously appropriate that the mortal enemy of the White Prince should contribute to the downfall of the Crystal Palace.

"Yes," he sighed. "My orders." He was silent a moment, looking down at the shimmer of the Palace and the gray mist of the shield.

"My orders," he repeated. "On behalf of His Serene Highness, Dimando re'Adamant, I hereby do order and require that every ship in the armada concentrate its full fire upon the shield.

"We will not stop until it falls."

His lieutenant bowed and saluted, left fist to right breast. "As you command, Lord Marshal."

Serpentine resumed his moody stare down at the doomed Palace. Please, let this end. Let Dimando-sama's cloud lift. Let the White Prince be content with his mastery. Let it end. For the sake of my Amethyst, for my sake, for the sake of Nemesis, for the sake of Earth, for all our sakes, Rudra save us all and let this end.

­ ­ ­

"Are you sure you know your way around here?" Saffir said suspiciously.

They were lost. He was dismally certain of it. They were lost in the middle of the Dark Kingdom, with all sorts of insane youma critters around them, with one of the Kings publicly angry at them -- and Esmeraude was busily admiring her perfect profile in the reflective surface of a handy stalagmite.

He could've screamed.

In fact, that was just what he did.

When the echoes had died away, he was rewarded with Esmeraude's full and complete, wide-eyed and open-mouthed attention.

"Um," she said uncertainly, "did you say something?" As always when she couldn't think of anything else to do, she snicked open her fan and began to maneuver it back and forth in front of her face. "Er," she added cleverly.

"Esmeraude," Saffir said nicely, "listen to me. I agreed to come with you on this ridiculous venture. I agreed that maybe finding and freeing Jadeite would be a good thing. I agreed that yes, it was an absolutely lovely idea, possibly the best one you've ever come up with.

"But, understand me, I'm going to turn around and go right back -"

"Relax, Useless," Esmeraude said, not particularly unkindly. "You can't get back; you don't know where we are."

Saffir glared at her. "I do too," he lied. "And I'll go back to my room if you don't quit getting distracted and get us to the Hall of Sleepers."

The green-haired woman sighed. The fan closed and was tucked securely under her arm; she ran a gloved hand through her hair and took just the fleetest half-second to congratulate herself on how perfectly the verdant waves framed her tightly-disciplined body. Damn, she was a gift to aesthetics....

"Saffir," she said calmly, "the Hall of Sleepers is one more corridor down and three sets of doors to the left. I know it. Nephrite told me. And as much as he might've wanted to sabotage us earlier, now that you whacked Zoisite around a bit, he's a firm partisan of ours. At least, as far as it annoys Zoisite."

"You're actually making sense," Saffir said coldly. "Congratulations."

Their earlier spate of quasi-camaraderie had waned very quickly; Saffir's ill-timed fit of hilarity at Esmeraude's assumptions concerning the nature of Kunzite's relationship with his protegŽ Zoisite had been extremely ill-received by the Field Marshal of Nemesis. It really hadn't helped matters when Esmeraude had whapped him upside the head with her fan after a few moments of him giggling like an idiot.

There had been an uneasy truce declared; it had held up until a few minutes ago, when Saffir had gotten a bit panicked at the fact that he had no clue where they were, and he'd begun to suspect that Esmeraude didn't, either.

"Well, Useless," Esmeraude said at last, beginning to stalk off down the high-ceilinged corridor, "if you don't like my reasoning, you may ...." Her voice trailed off as she drew further and further away from him.

He caught up with her easily. "I may what?"

She turned to him and hissed, "STUFF IT."

There was silence for the rest of the way.

­ ­ ­

To those who knew how to listen, the world screamed and shrieked in unbearable agony. The very bedrock under the Crystal Palace moaned; the ether seemed to susurrate with ripples from the last bastion of Light.

Bishojo Senshi Sailor Pluto jerked. At her bidding, the mists that surrounded the Time Door parted, showing Pluto what she needed to see.

The Crystal Palace was under attack, bombarded by the armaments of many hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Nemesian warships, the many-rayed warships that had swarmed upon Earth a year earlier and had speedily, steadily conquered everything save the Crystal City, had cowed everyone save the Neo-Queen herself and her serafuku-clad soldiers.

Pluto moaned in real anguish as she watched the shield seem to shudder under the sheer firepower that was concentrated upon it. "All the Powers help them," she whispered.

This had not been in the timeline! Not in any timeline! The Crystal Palace had lain untouched after the initial April Fools' Day attack, had been untouched until Neo-Queen Serenity awoke and restored the world again.... This was not supposed to be happening.

Pluto watched as the shield actually buckled under a volley from the largest warship, the flagship that hovered directly over the apex of the Senshi-generated bubble.

For one heart-stopping

moment, Sailor Pluto fancied she saw the shield go down and the Palace shine under the unblocked sun once again.

In that speck of time, Sailor Pluto was decided.

Grasping the Time Key in one hand, she raised it high over her head and brought it down in almost the same graceful motion.

She drove the butt of the white staff into the ground, spiking it to stand up straight. She surveyed it detachedly, nodded coldly. "Stand as a guardian, in the Guardian's place," she told it.

The Time Key seemed to quiver in assent.

Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Pluto glanced at the scene of the besieged Palace, and with a wave of one white-gloved hand dismissed it.

The Angel of Time vanished. Her last words hung in the mists of time long after her person disappeared.

"This must end, will end, is ending.

"Now."

­ ­ ­

Zoisite busied himself with watching the youma from a dimensional pocket. It was rather like being inside a one-way mirror; he could see the surrounding environment, no one could see him, and there was no trace of his presence, just in case someone (let us for the moment suppose that person to be Nephrite) cared to see if Zoisite were in the vicinity.

How perfect. At any moment now, if Zoisite knew Nephrite as well as he thought he did, the auburn-haired King would be charging in like there were no next Wednesday, waving around that stupid sword of his and demanding the stupid youma give him the stupid girl.

Zoisite liked his job. How clever of Kunzaito-sama to suggest killing Nephrite. He really didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before; certainly, Nephrite had been annoying enough in the past to warrant it.

Understand, please, that Zoisite did not enjoy destruction for its own sake, nor killing for the mere pleasure of seeing blood and pain.

No, for Zoisite, ambitious creature that he was (the very epitome of Blonde Ambition...), death and destruction were what the British would term "the greasy pole" and what the Romans called the cursus honorum -- in either case, it meant roughly "the way up the ladder of rank."

Zoisite had decided that a millennium of mutual hatred, of reciprocal backstabbing, and of getting in each others' ways was just too much.

And for Nephrite to broadcast the news of that skinny stupid spineless worm of a diplomat actually defeating Zoisite in combat...

That was too much for anyone. Mahatma Gandhi would've crumbled under it. Zoisite was quite certain of this.

He hummed happily as he sorted through his ice crystals. He'd already decided to invite Saffir-sama to the Memory Prayer in Metallia's Fane, in remembrance of Nephrite...

After all, technically speaking, Saffir was the one going to be held responsible for Nephrite's death.

­ ­ ­

Saffir pushed open the double doors that Esmeraude silently indicated. They entered, peering around ineffectually in the dimness; Saffir wondered briefly if Beryl ever paid much attention to her cleaning staff, as they clearly hadn't visited this place for at least two centuries.

"All right," he said calmly, "where's Jadeite?"

"hear that, marko? he's lookin' for jadeite," a voice remarked.

Saffir and Esmeraude looked up in surprise. They beheld a most unlikely pair: a tiny redhead with eyes the color of poison, a tall slender elf with golden hair and an expression midway between hilarity and disgust.

"Sure they are," said the blonde. "Look, Jadeite's the first guy on the right, the one who's screaming."

"whoops," said the redhead, grinning at some joke that only he understood. "we'd probably better be going. nice meeting you, kids, and say hi to the albino freak for me..."

The pair vanished.

"Did you just see that?" Saffir said finally.

Esmeraude said faintly, "What - the elf and the red-haired bishounen?"

Saffir nodded.

The green-haired woman considered this for a moment, then said emphatically, "NO."

"That's what I thought," Saffir said. "Um... And they didn't say the first one on the right?"

"That's what I didn't hear," Esmeraude agreed.

They looked down the length of the hall, thinking about this. There were niches set in the walls, each niche framed by a pair of flickering glowglobes, casting their cold white light on the sleep-crystal encased inside that niche. There were easily fifty Sleepers to each wall. Beryl evidently lost her temper at the drop of a hat.

"First on the right," Saffir said dolefully. "Well, we may as well."

"I changed my mind," Esmeraude said nervously, looking around. She clutched her fan tighter. "This place gives me the creeps."

"I'm not fond of it, either," Saffir said. "But if it will get us out of the Dark Kingdom, Esmeraude, isn't a small period of discomfort worth it?"

"I suppose," she allowed grumpily.

And with that, she walked right up to the first niche on the right, peered in at the occupant, and struck it smartly with her gloved fist.

Whatever else Saffir could find to fault about her, she certainly wasn't a coward. Just hitting a magical object like that was asking to be fried.

He remembered to breathe, and said, swallowing, "Esmeraude, that's not the best way to do it... Stand aside for a moment, please. Let me try." He stepped up to look into Jadeite's face, Esmeraude moving aside for him. Saffir immediately wished that he hadn't looked; the handsome face of the First King was locked forever in a rictus of terror, horror, and pain. Whatever else his eternal sleep might be, it was almost certainly filled with nightmares.

He looked over the huge crystal carefully, Looking at it the way Dimando-oniisan had taught him. There were a few structural weaknesses in the gem itself - the facets were imperfect, and so invited a few seams here and just possibly there - and there was a faint chink in the spell that had established the crystal.

"Any luck?" Esmeraude prompted, after Saffir had stood there unmoving for a few moments.

"Hmm... A bit," Saffir said, leaning against the crystal. He turned to face her, running his hand through his hair discouragedly. "I wish Dimando-oniisan were here. He'd know exactly what to do."

He probably would, at that; Dimando had always been fascinated by power in all its shapes and sizes and qualities, magic being one of the major divisions thereof. He was as masterful a magician as he was a politician, as careful a sorcerer as he was a ruler.

What would Dimando-oniisan do in this situation? Saffir wondered. He missed his brother so much, so much, and he needed Dimando even more. Dimando-oniisan, oniisan, beloved brother, my light and my path, what am I supposed to do?

And as it had done for Dimando in the thirtieth century, that mysterious link between the brothers fluxed open again, finding a connection in Dimando's mind, linking it to Saffir's ready to receive -- that mysterious, beautiful, immensely comforting link of the elder brother who had poured all of his love into the only person available to take it, of the younger brother whose entire world was centered upon the kind loving elder, of the siblings who in all their lives had had only each other as anchor, as strength, as guidance, the younger influencing the elder as much as vice versa, the elder gently teaching the younger as much as the younger hero-worshipped the elder...

And Saffir had what he needed, the knowledge and the power and the skill to touch the threads of magic here, to make a subtle twist and insert it into the spell's weak point there, to wrap a web of power over the whole of the crystal and tighten it until the crystal glowed, heated, shattered.

Esmeraude stifled a shriek as Dimando's distinctive rose-colored aura surrounded Saffir, mingled with the younger brother's pale weary blue aura.

She dropped her fan as the crystalline shards flew every which way, and as Jadeite's body flopped forward on top of Saffir, who had already collapsed.

All the things that occured to her to say seemed inadequate.

At last, she settled for, "I'll never call you Useless again..."

Part 9