Well, this was my first fanfic, that I submitted to Fiss a little while ago, which he provisionally OKayed. I figure that at least gives me some room to work

I got a bit stymied on for a while. I'm currently working on the details of the later chapters, trying to finish this up and then edit for consistancy.

I was really just wonder what ya'll think of this one. It's a little different from the usual. I intend to post about 1 chapter a week, although I don't know if I'll be able to keep that rate up for very long. (Crosses fingers)

Reviews, Flames, and other stuff all accepted. Constructive criticism appreciated.

Thank you, come again!

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Sailor Moon Omoi: Inquisition

Inferno

Part 1


If he exalts himself, I humble him
If he humbles himself, I exalt him.
And I go on contradicting him
Until he understands
That he is a monster that passes all understanding

-Pascal, Pensees



Chapter 1: Welcome to Crystal Tokyo/The Gathering

January 3001,

Crystal Tokyo. It all started here, and in the end, it would go down here. The Senshi discovered their powers here, both the Japanese and the North Americans. It was the root of two nations and the nexus of unimaginable mystical powers. Armageddon, the fall of Tumbler, the coming of the darkness, the rebirth. There were many silent witnesses to all of these grand events, many of them just normal people, living out normal lives in a time of turbulence. Hoever not all of these witnesses were so benign, nor were they inactive...

In the years following the release from the Ice and Armageddon, the world reformed itself. The Senshi and the Omega Web were the first people to realize that magic had returned to the world, but they were hardly the only ones. Practitioners of mystical arts across the world suddenly felt the jolt that they had been given. Shamans, priests, and monks all felt the power growing within themselves at a prodigious rate. But so did murderers, thieves and con-men. In addition, creatures that had slept for millennia were arising from their slumber. All of this created even more chaos and turmoil. Mystical power could be as easily misused as any other kind of power, and so it was. But there were those who foresaw this coming of chaos, and who took measures to prevent it.

One of those groups was the Sailor Senshi, in both Japan and in North America, although there were so many other concerns pressing down on them in these times that they were vastly more handicapped than they should have been. In addition the Omega Web did do some monitoring of mystical energies, but again their efforts were hamstrung by the sheer size of the problem. However, there were other groups, older than many imagined, who also hunted down and eliminated the scum who hid in the darkness. Some were good, some were bad, but all in all, they were quite necessary in such chaotic times. The most powerful and influential of these organiztions was the Brotherhood of Amnon.

This is the story of the men and women, young and old, who gathered under the banner of an ancient order that had just gained new leadership and a renewed purpose. To find and deal with the arcane and powerful darkness. To be an avenging shadow, that hunted what even paranormal divisions of police departments would not be able to trace. To root out evil mages and criminals, as they had in times long past. They were the Inquisition.




Crystal Tokyo, January 1st 3004

A young man glanced out of his window, high above the city. The massive jet that carried him banked as it pulled down towards the airport. The new airport that had to be constructed after the last one had been obliterated by a bunch of terrorists trying to unseat the Senshi. The man laughed, causing the passenger next to him to look over at him with an inquisitive expression. He noticed the other passenger’s attention, but studiously ignored him. It was a sad fact about his life that his mind always wound up thinking about the worst of all possible worlds. So much for being optimistic.

He considered the implications of what he was doing, possibly the riskiest venture of his entire life, to set up his operation in this kind of a chaotic hell hole. Yet, on the other hand, it allowed him to keep tabs on one of the most important figures that had come onto the world stage as of late. The man reached into his suitcase and pulled out a folder placing it on his lap. It was nothing secret, not in the least, but it was just newspaper clippings of the Neo Queen and her guardians from a dozen different sources. A fascinating bunch, these Senshi were. Just waltzed in and took up their posts. Amazing.

The power they wielded, well, that was certainly real enough. The young man had seen it first hand in New York what seemed like a lifetime ago. Through some fluke, or quirk of his nature, he had been quite aware what had happened when the Silver Crystal had been unleashed, and had driven back the ice for the first time. It had been awe inspiring to say the least. Now they were in charge of Japan. A hefty responsibility, and from all the information that he could glean they seemed to be doing a good job of it, save for the rioting.

He chuckled at his own wit, now drawing an annoyed stare from his traveling companion. It was fascinating to him how many problems those women had endured since taking over. He wondered what it would be like to be a truly normal person with superpowers, and upon whom the rest of the world depended for protection. To eventually find one’s self in charge of a nation and maybe one day the entire Solar system. Massive responsibility to say the least. He gave himself a mental shrug. His responsibility was crushing at times, but it had to do with far fewer people. He had never wanted a nation or a world to govern, just to fulfill his mission.

The engines of the jet screamed as they reversed thrust to come in for the landing. The man once again looked up and out of his window. He always felt a kind of primal rush when he landed in a plane. The acceleration pushing him back in his chair caused his blood to pump and a fierce grin broke out on his face. Then it was over, and they were down. It took about fifteen minutes for the jet to dock at its appropriate gate. The man got up and stretched languidly, placing his papers back into his black briefcase and smiled at his fellow passenger. The Japanese businessman looked haggard, and as well he should. It was a damn long flight from San Francisco. He departed from the plane, thoughts and plans whirling through his head.

For now the San Francisco project was running at full steam, and the subsidiary offices across the southwest, from the Republic of Texas to Colorado, all the way to the Pacific coast were able to be set up without much effort. The network was at long last being connected. With his friends setting up the East coast offices fairly rapidly, it had only been a matter of time before they would expand overseas. Jennifer had suggested that they expand into Europe, with the growth of the cults putting a major pressure on the people of that continent. Japan had been his first choice, and the other Grandmasters had been in full agreement. The Senshi were far and away the biggest players in this new world and they had wanted to keep an eye on them, just in case. Europe could wait for a little while.

Plus, with the place being such a basket case lately it would be nearly impossible to establish any kind of operation there without it being swept away by rioters and rebels. Asia and Africa were similar problems, although his conversations with the people of South Sudan had been most encouraging. Perhaps they would be the exception rather than the rule.

So Mitsugi O'Gannon had returned to Japan, along with a crew of their best and brightest straight from the school in order to establish a new outpost. Hopefully the basic infrastructure would be up and running by now, and they could start working on real cases.

He walked off of the plane with a noticeable spring in his step, his bags slung over his shoulder. He always liked to work on new projects and this one certainly looked to be one of the more interesting that he had been involved with lately.



Mitsugi stood at the gate, waiting for his new appointee’s arrival. The clock said 10:30. Damn. With another 15 minutes to kill, he leaned back in his seat, causing the entire linked series of them to move slightly. Straightening his suit and tightening his tie with practiced motions, he contented himself with looking over the reports that he was going to give to his business partner.

Mitsugi was a big man. Of Japanese and Irish descent, topping out at over two meters, and weighing something like 300 pounds, he would have been incredibly intimidating if he cared to be. However, he was possessed of a gentle spirit, and a deep rumbling voice. Many mistook him for a bumbling giant because of it. While it was true that he was soft spoken, there was nothing bumbling about him. He had a keen mind, and was excellent at organizing both infrastructure and people.

In his late high school years he had been relatively inactive, more interested in his computers and games than in his physical shape. That had changed when he had gone to St. John’s College. Although the place was a small philosophy college where he would never have thought to find anything resembling an active lifestyle, he had come to be friends with another young freshman, named Richard Caine. Richie was a very active man, and so Mitsugi had taken to working out with him in the mornings and practicing martial arts with him in the evenings. By the time that they had graduated, the summer before the ice came, Mitsugi had achieved excellent physical shape, and was terribly strong. Since that time he had continued to lift, and train, becoming, if not exactly graceful, at least steady on his feet.

He thought about those times with a little smile. So different from the way things were going now. After he had graduated, he had planned to take a year off, to find his bearings in the world, but suddenly everything had been turned upside down in a hurry. The dark times of the year 3000 were still not something he wished to think about. He had drifted for a time, but then he had once again run into his old friend, only this time he had a job for him. What a job it had turned out to be. The conversation had gone something like the following:

“Hey man, how have you been?”
“Pretty crappy, but I’m still alive.”
“You need a job?”
“Yeah.”
“How about helping to organize a secret society for the hunting of magical threats to humanity?”
“What the @#$%?!”

It had gone from there. The Grandmasters had been pretty impressed with Caine’s proposal for the creation of a team of operatives whose sole responsibility was moving into new territory and setting up offices. Sort of like the green berets, only with street smarts and magic as opposed to wilderness survival techniques. His first six months of training had been pretty hard, but there was a lot of freedom in the development process, since they were basically coming up with an entirely new way of conducting investigation, and their former methods were sorely in need of updating.

One thing had led to another, and he had eventually become team leader, and was assigned to harder and harder posts. So he had spent the last ten months in Japan, helping to recruit locals and set up an appropriate infrastructure. It had taken a lot of work, and his social life had suffered greatly, but they were finally ready to begin standard operations. The directors were pretty happy about that actually, and the new recruits were quite good at their jobs. Maybe he would be able to shift some of the workload over to the new guy.

A quiet bell tone distracted him from his reverie, and he looked up with satisfaction.

“Flight 8754, arriving from San Francisco, has docked,” a young woman’s voice proclaimed over the intercom. Mitsugi stood up and stretched bringing his hands over his head and cracking his neck. Hopefully the new guy would be better than some of the other new guys from what was left of the States. He secretly figured that they had been lowering their standards as of late.

“There is no calling so noble that it will not attract assholes,” he said softly to himself, with a slight smirk.

He leaned against a nearby column, waiting as men and women filed out of the plane. It was then that his eyes caught a familiar looking face. He shook his head again, his smirk become a genuine smile. He waved incredulously to the other, who waved back out of the crowd. Mitsugi forced his way foreward, not particularly caring that people scurried out of his way like ants. He extended his hand, and burst into laughter as the return grip was as strong as it ever was.

“Richard Caine, what the hell are you doing in Tokyo, boy?” Mitsugi rumbled as he drew the man into a brief hug.

“I heard that you needed a little support, and since I had just finished up on the Tucson project, they decided to send me,” Caine replied with a grin to match Mitsugi’s.

Mitsugi nodded in acceptance. “Well, damn if it isn’t good to see you here. I don’t know if we have any projects that would require a slayer of demons though. Except for the paperwork demons. Those little bastards have set up quite an infestation hereabouts.”

“Yeah they do seem to be everywhere, don’t they?” Richard laughed. “Well maybe, just maybe I can lend a hand with that.”

“So,” Mitsugi asked as he turned and they walked out to the car. “Why didn’t they tell me who was coming? Do they just make these kind of decisions at the drop of their hats?”

“Well, this time it was a little more complicated. The person who was going to be assigned to you decided to resign, and there was a lot of problems selecting a person who would want to come out here. Most of us don’t really know Japanese you know...”

Mitsugi turned to look squarely at Richard and gave him a measuring glance.

“It wasn’t just that, was it?” he prompted. Richard looked at him nodded slightly. Quickly turning his head around and looking, he saw no one close enough to be a great concern. Looking back at Mitsugi, his mouth compressed to a thin line.

“It’s the Senshi,” he said quietly. “They are really beginning to scare some of the conservative Grandmasters. A lot.”

“Well, the Grandmasters aren’t the only ones they scare,” Mitsugi said, frowning. “They sometimes scare the hell out of me too. Their security gets better every day. When Rei Hino returned the damn Internal Security efficiency improved dramatically. The woman has both the gift and the drive to do it well. She’s a scary lady.”

“Yeah well, they’re afraid that we’re going to get caught and extradited back the good old USA...” Richard said.

“...Which would jeopardize all of our American operations,” Mitsugi finished, thinking intensely on the subject. “What I can’t understand is why we would be extradited at all.”

“Rumor has it that the Senshi are working on a tighter screening system for all immigrants and government licenced aliens,” Richard muttered. “And maybe even the humans too...”

Mitsugi laughed at the feeble joke. “Well, I’m not too worried about it, since technically I am a Japanese citizen. They can’t get rid of me even if they want too.”

“Yeah well, don’t be so sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started exiling Japanese troublemakers too,” Richard said darkly. “They are warriors and they are probably damn tired of dealing with these riots and terrorists. Plus, from all that we can figure out, they ruled pretty autocratically back in the day. They are Princes and Princesses after all. I just wonder if they are going to snap out and cripple their state while they try to clean up the garbage.”

“Your philosopher side is showing Caine,” Mitsugi snorted. “Besides, this is Japan, not America. You are going to have to figure that out sooner, rather than later. The people here are far less concerned with what I think is a mostly imagined freedom back in the US. Order is a higher concern here.”

“I don’t buy it, but now is not the time for this debate,” Richard countered. “Though I think that from a purely practical corner it will make our jobs a hell of a lot harder to get done if the Japanese Internal Security is breathing down our necks all the time.”

“True that,” Mitsugi admitted. “Well at the very least it explains why they sent you. You’re the original smooth operator.”

Caine made a rude gesture towards his towering companion, and continued walking.

“What?” Mitsugi asked innocently. “Is it my fault that you have a tendency to blow up whatever comes within arm’s reach? Or that you have an annoying habit of calling all sorts of trouble down on your own head?” Richard looked up at Mitsugi and laughed.

“My friend, I don’t call down trouble from on high, I hunt it down and eliminate it.”

Mitsugi just shook his head as they got into the car. Some people never change.



The streets of Tokyo these days were not the kind of place where one would like to hang out after the sun went down. The place was infested with miscreants and trouble doers. The pro-democracy movements that had sprung up in the wake of the Senshi’s inauguration, and the damage that they had inflicted upon both the image of the Crystal Tokyo government, which prided itself of personal freedom, and the new organizations that the said government had tried to construct had drawn in other vileness like a magnet.

Nowadays, the downtown residential districts were to be avoided by all but the most hardened policeman. In fact, the Internal Security troopers had taken to naming the worst neighborhoods The Jungle, in homage to the hellish neighborhoods of L.A. and New York, and the similarity in many ways was remarkable. Things were handled here without laws of any kind save for the two laws of Power and Association. These were both the currency and the grease that allowed people to survive in the Jungle. The Senshi had long wanted to clean up these neighborhoods, but they had painfully discovered that the neighborhoods did not want to be cleaned up, thank you very much.

So, they festered here at the heart of Japan’s greatest city. It was here that The Blood Blade Yakuza made their home. One of the families that had been the most successful in recent times, they controlled all of the business, both legal and illegal, in no less than three large neighborhoods. For more than a third of The Jungle, the word of the Blood Blades was The Law.

The Blades, as they were called in casual conversation, had set up their headquarters in a dingy little restaurant in the heart of their territory. The place was only two stories tall, its windows barred and grimy. The food was bad, and the service was worse, but it was very secure from outsiders. It was the sort of place that everyone in the Jungle knew about, but none particularly wanted to visit. Bad juju and whatnot.

So it was with great surprise that the patrons of this particular establishment noticed that on new year’s, just as the clock was striking midnight, a lone man walked in from the night. He was strangely dressed for the weather, wearing nothing but a normal business suit despite the biting cold outside. He was tall and had a strikingly golden complexion, his black hair combed back conservatively. He was obviously Oriental, but if you were to later ask those who were present, none of them could have identified his nationality.

Immediately the Yakuza became suspicious. Only an idiot walked into their home uninvited, and only a complete moron would come dressed as he had. The Blades drew their coats tight, some of them even audibly growling at the man. Two huge bouncers walked up to him and made as if to push him back, but before they could reach him, he held out a hand in a stopping gesture. The bouncers stopped made eye contact with the outsider as he looked up into their faces. And stopped. His eyes, those eyes! None present who looked into them could forget them. They burned with the fury of a forest fire. Napalm explosions, burning torches, and flickering candles, all were
encompassed in his dark brown orbs.

Many people believe that criminals have very little sense and awareness of their surroundings. This is sort of true. Many people will miss the subtle hints of body language and non-verbal communication. However, violent people are oftentimes more sensitive to primal signals, especially those that involve fear and strength. Looking into the blazing brown eyes of this man, they knew at the deepest level that this was a man who would not be trifled with.

Warily backing away from the man, the bouncers took up their position, leaning against the doorframe again. He walked into the restaurant and took a seat at the bar, leaning his elbows on the worn wooden surface. He signaled the bartender with a slight wave of his hand. The bartender cleaned his hands on his apron and walked slowly over the man. The man’s strange and beautiful blazing eyes bored like lasers into the barman’s gaze.

“What do you want here?” mumbled the bartender, looking away quickly. The man smiled a slow smile at the bartender’s discomfort and finally leaned back into a straight sitting position.

“I will speak with Nakamura,” he said confidently. It was hard to describe the effect of his voice. It was quiet and yet it carried a power that compelled the listener to pay very close attention, the voice of authority. The bartender nodded slowly, still looking away. He turned to his phone behind the bar and dialed four digits, an internal line that was hardly ever used.

“Greatest apologies respected sir,” the bartender said into the phone, his voice trembling a little. “We have a... guest that is here to see you sir....no sir.....no, no appointment sir.....yes sir.....yes sir....” The bartender hung up the phone with effort, his hand shaking slightly. He turned back to the visitor and bowed. “You are expected upstairs sir.”

The stranger stood up without even acknowledging the bartender’s statement. Standing up he pulled down on his jacket, straightening it. He next stretched his neck, rolling it to the side and tightening his black tie. He strode purposefully to the back of the restaurant, his arms swinging freely, seeming to know exactly where he was going without having any directions or even hesitations.

The tangy smells of vinegar and the greasy odor of fried food wafted around, just the two strongest smells in a powerful assault on the nose. He passed the bustling kitchen workers and the various stoves and cabinets, neatly weaving his way between the islands of the grubby room. He reached an innocuous door at the back and pushed on it, revealing a set of dingy stairs, which he ascended in short order.

At the top was a final door, of an older style, which slid away easily, pulled aside by a large man in a cheap, ill fitted suit. The stranger barely stopped walking, forcing the guard to move out of the way very quickly. The sight of the upstairs of the establishment was at such odds that most would have wondered if they had suddenly entered a different world. The odors of the bar and the kitchen were replaced with the mild wafting scent of incense. The floor was wooden, and the interior walls seemed to be constructed of rice paper in a very ancient style. The polished hardwood floors gleamed, and were obviously well cared for. The lighting of the place was indistinct, looking as though it was coming from behind the walls, giving a golden glow to the entire room. The floor of the room was bare save for a low table, behind which a single man sat.

The table held two incense burners where two gently rising wisps of smoke danced in the air currents. The only homages to this century were the pair of impassive guards whose eyes watched the newcomer extremely carefully, hands never straying far from their sidearms, and a small open laptop on the table. The stranger noted all of this, but his eyes never left the man sitting behind the table.

The man behind the table was calm, his facial hair trimmed into a neat goatee, and his hair a deep brown color, styled into a short ponytail behind his head. He wore a pair of loose pants and a long shirt, cut in a Chinese style and buttoned up to the high collar. The black silk was a fine material, and stitched in very dark grey were almost imperceptible scenes of game hunting and battle. His face was slightly worn, but his age was indeterminate. Most people would tell you he was between thirty five and forty five, but some would say younger and others older. The man behind the table looked up, his own brown eyes meeting those of the stranger in front of him.

The two men’s gazes locked, and stayed this way for almost a minute, before the stranger began to laugh, a deep sound that seemed to suck in the air in his vicinity. The man behind the desk’s mouth quirked into a grimace, and he shook his head back and forth a little. The guards tensed up, but a tiny hand motion stilled them quickly.

“They call you Nakamura?” The stranger asked, looking vastly amused by it.

“Yes, they do,” Nakamura responded seemingly more annoyed. “And you?”

“Just call me Yen like you used to,” the stranger responded. “It has been a long time since we met last.”

“It has,” Nakamura nodded. “If I recall exactly... Oh yes! It was right before your brother kicked you into the dust and buried your corpse.” He looked at Yen with a wide smile.

Yen frowned and narrowed his eyes and the temperature in the room seemed to jump a good three degrees. The intensity of the clash of wills between the two men made both of the guards take an involuntary step backwards, their guts telling them to get the heck out of the room. Preferably about five minutes prior to now.

“Do. Not. Mention that,” Yen said through clenched teeth. “That is something I don’t think that you want to talk about. Besides, if I recall correctly, your own people tried to kill you, why was it? Oh yes! Because of your negligence. Your own hedonism got you expelled here, and don’t forget it.”

“Is there any point to this?” Nakamura asked, his own irritation showing once more.

“Yes. As you can tell, the power has returned to the world. My brother’s work has been undone and the keys have been broken,” Yen said, his grimace changing back into a smile. “You can feel it too, can’t you?”

“Of course I can, you old fool,” Nakamura responded. “But we aren’t the only ones who realize this. No doubt your brother also knows. I always thought that he was the smarter of you two.”

“Yes, but here is the nice part,” Yen said with a death’s head grin. “He doesn’t know that I’ve returned. I can move freely without worries.”

“Fine and dandy for you,” Nakamura said, with an slight shrug. “Why should this bother me now?”

“Come on, you want back just as much as I do,” Yen retorted. “Don’t lie to me, you want to go back to your home as much as I do.”

“Be that as it may,” Nakamura said slowly. “I have reconciled the fact that I can’t go back, no matter how much I want to. No matter what you say to me, I won’t be convinced.”

“Bullshit,” Yen said with contempt. “You are nothing more than a petty crime lord. Gods once feared you! You miss those days and you want them back more than anything. Besides, I think that you’re going to like this. Wouldn’t you like to see this horrible little island burn?” Nakamura narrowed his eyes at this. His presence seemed to fill the room. The room seemed to grow around the bodygaurds, causing them to look around themselves in astonishment. Nothing seemed to have changed, beside their stature, the stranger standing what seemed like miles above the. Again the guards winced away as Nakamura stood up. And up and up. He seemed to be so tall, his head reaching into the clouds near the rafters of the building.

“You really believe that you’re onto something, don’t you?” he asked, a faint tone of hope rising in his voice, the sound rumbling in the now immense room. “What are you planning Yen?”

“I found a way back, Yi,” Yen said triumphantly. “I can get us home. And then my brother and all of his servants will pay.”

Nakamura leaned back a little bit, and motioned to his two guards. The men, who had been quaking with fear, shook themselves and looked around in shock. The room was the same as it had always been, and they were looking at two men who were staring at each other, the stranger wearing his strange grin, and their boss, whose eyes were now glittering in a way that his two most trusted men had never seen before.

“Go and tell the leaders that I will convene the council of the families,” he said levelly. “I think that we are going to have a great deal of business to discuss with all of them.”

The two men nodded quickly and bowed, scurrying out of the room as fast as they could. Even such hardened men were terrified after such a strange experience. Yen made a kind of mocking bow to Nakamura and smiled.

“Now let me tell you, my good marksman, what I have in mind...”

Ah, intruiging. Definitely well-written. Mitsugi O'Gannon? That's one helluva name. I suspect the "Grandmasters" are one of those watcher-type secret societies that's existed since the beginning of recorded history. I wonder how their agenda will align with, or oppose, the Senshi's.

Nice. I would like to see more of this.

Thanks guys. Well, Mitsugi O'Gannon is actually inspired by a friend of mine who is part Japanese and part Irish. No kidding, the guy must be about six foot seven and about 300 pounds. If he really worked out, he would be a monster. Anyway.

So here is chapter two, in one week as promised.

The plot is beginning to get moving at this point. The first four or so chapters are pretty firmed up by now, its just the next oh, eight or so that are up in the air. I'm pretty sure that the last four or five chapters are pretty much going to write themselves.

....I hope....



Well, On With the Show!

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Chapter 2: Setting up shop/Hotaru?s day from Hell


As Mitsugi took him on a tour of downtown, Richard was constantly amazed by all of the life that the city contained, even on New Year ?s Day. People milled along the streets in the light snow that had fallen the previous evening dressed in all colors of the rainbow. Advertisements were posted everywhere, electronic billboards and recordings proclaiming the virtues of their respective products. It reminded him painfully of New York, but at the same time there was a different vibe to the streets. They hummed to a slightly different beat than his old home, as if syncopated in some way.

The blend of western and eastern architectures was another amazing sight, along with the beauty that was the new Crystal Palace. The dome was clear and pristine looking, and its beauty was incredibly intimidating. The changes that the Senshi had wrought were becoming more and more obvious with each passing day. Fairly soon he imagined that Crystal Canada would declare its independence. Then all hell could break loose. Why did the push the existing orders so hard? What did these aliens stand for anyway? Oh well, he thought shaking his head. It was not the time for such idle thoughts.

Instead he bent his attention to memorizing street names and building locations. This was difficult for him to do, but he knew it would be vital later, when the agency began to truly send out its investigation teams. It took about an hour to take in most of the downtown area, the traffic on the streets thankfully light. The two pulled into the local headquarters at about 4 o?clock.

Richard was very surprised at the choice of location for the Tokyo offices, for they truly were offices in the traditional sense. The base was located on the twenty sixth floor of the Nakatomo office building, in the bustling heart of downtown Tokyo. Richard waited with ill disguised glee at the prospect of looking at his new office, despite their strange location.

?Well,? commented Mitsugi as the final chime in the elevator sounded. ?Here we are.?

Here indeed. Mitsugi took out a small key card and inserted it into the lock on the elevator. The doors opened up into a relatively high ceilinged hallway. There were solid walls to either side of him and a receptionist desk about twenty feet away. The interesting thing was that the walls of the room angled towards the receptionist?s desk, in a kind of a trapezoid, with the wall behind the desk hiding one?s view of the hallway. The place oozed drab office space, and at least a little part of Richard wondered if they had gone to the wrong floor. Mitsugi saw his puzzlement and smiled.

?Camouflage,? he said simply, leading the way around the front desk to where the hallway ended in a T. ?It keeps UPS from getting too curious.?

?Figures,? Richard laughed. He shook his head slightly. His ears felt almost as though they were stopped up, or something. Shrugging it off, he followed Mitsugi, who had taken off again.

?Did everyone have the day off?? Richard asked, gesturing expansively with his left arm.

?Yeah, I gave them the day off,? Mitsugi said. ?After all, once we start operations, there is going to have to be someone here all the time.? They took a left at the T and Mitsugi gave him a rundown of all the rooms.

?Nearest to the west wall we have a dojo, armory, shooting range, gym, and melee practice room. In the next section we have our offices and meeting rooms. Further east we have the labs, back up generators, and the archive system. And finally we also have the chapel, located all the way against the north wall.?

?You know, this brings up a big question. How the heck did you find soundproofing good enough to have a bloody firing range in the heart of an office building?? Richard asked, looking confused. ?I mean, it isn?t exactly easy to get a gun over here anyway. I?d have figured that the slightest slip would give us to the cops.?

?That would be true,? Mitsugi admitted. ?If it weren?t for the stuff that the Nemesis labs sent over with me. It?s only about a quarter inch thick, and it can deaden an entire room, just put them over the walls. I saw you shaking your head a minute ago. That?s why everything sounds so weird in here. We figured, since we had some left over from the noisy rooms, we would coat the hallways too. Makes it hard for visitors to overhear something they shouldn?t.?

Richard nodded, taking stock of each of the rooms as they passed by. The archives were a simple amalgamation of computers, which hummed in their dark room. Richard noted the locked security doors, and the lack of any kind of external connection. Nice and secure, at least for now. Leaving the archives behind, went to check out the crime labs, which were more impressive than the ones he had seen at the San Francisco P.D., even though they were smaller. Well stocked and well organized, even though they were perhaps a little cramped.

Nodding his approval after a few questions, Richard continued his tour, looking in at the meeting/classrooms, and the office spaces. Fairly standard, but comfortable. Probably a good idea, he thought wryly. I?m going to be living here for eighteen hours a day. His office was actually fairly spacious, larger than his last one. The carpet was light blue and the walls were a harsh white. The desk was simple and wooden looking, but Richard suspected it was made of something else entirely.

Richard took his briefcase full of papers and set them in his desk, checking out the locks and the security system built into his door. Nodding his approval, he left the notes there. There would be plenty of time to look over those later anyway.

The dojos, gym, and the armory were very impressive, stocked with all kinds of training devices, most of which he had seen before. It would be nice to have your own private gym, he mused. Back in Tucson, they had to work out in the local one, and it just hadn?t been as fun. After all, you couldn?t swap work stories there. People would give you some seriously strange looks. When they reached the firing range, Richard held up his hand and looked up at Mitsugi.

?Did they Fed Ex my babies here?? he asked hopefully, giving Mitsugi his best attempt at an innocent look.

?Yeah, they did,? Mitsugi sighed. ?I take it from your completely innocent expression that you want to test out the facilities.?

Richard simply smiled at his old friend. Mitsugi unlocked the armory cages and pulled out a black plastic box that was about the size of a small briefcase, and handed it carefully to Richard. Richard then placed it on the table, opening the catches and putting in his combination. The box opened with satisfying pop.

Richard?s eyes widened and his fake innocent expression faded as he reached into the container and withdrew his prizes. They were two matt black 1960's era PPK pistols, gifts and legacy of his father. They were small, their geometry smooth and curvy, and fit comfortably into the palms of his hand. Inscribed on the slides in silvered lettering were the words Thing 1 and Thing 2, an old joke of his father?s. Placing the pistols with great care upon the rest table near the shooting range, he pulled out his custom gun belt, rigged with four magazines, two on each hip, in strange looking holsters. Richard smiled as he put the belt on, and snugged it up to his waist.

While Richard was completing the ritual of loading his magazines and making sure his weapons had not been damaged by their overseas trip, Mitsugi set up a paper target and hit the button on the side of the wall, the railing on the ceiling causing the target to spring back about 20 meters. By this time, Richard had donned his ear protectors and goggles and had drawn both of his pistols. Mitsugi walked behind him and picked up another set of ear protectors and watched.

Richard squeezed of two rounds out of each gun, one at a time, sighting carefully. Each shot was well within the target?s chest area, but Richard still frowned. He brought up the pistols and squeezed off another two rounds each, this time in tandem. Each bullet hit within two inches of one another.

Richard placed the smoking pistols carefully on the table next to him, flicking their safeties. He popped out the old magazines and inserted new ones, and then he stood for about thirty seconds, his eyes closed, breathing lightly. Mitsugi shook his head silently. He had expected better from the Inquisition?s foremost critter catcher. He was just finishing this thought, when Richard?s hands moved in a blur, picking up both pistols, aiming them and triggering their safeties in one motion. He squeezed off ten more shots, one after another, both pistols blazing, the smell of gunpowder filling the room. He stopped when the hammers clicked down on empty chambers. Richard calmly ejected the magazines and put the pistols down on the table, smoke still rising from their barrels.

?Safe,? Richard said, his voice quiet. Less than twelve seconds had passed.

Mitsugi, who had nearly jumped out of skin when Richard had started shooting, calmed himself as quickly as he could manage. He hit the target return, and the paper target moved back to them. He took it off the hanger. The heart of the target had been entirely torn out, a grouping of ten bullet holes less than one inch from the center. Mitsugi handed the target over to Richard soundlessly. Richard looked at his first shots and compared them to his second. He smiled a little.

?Guess I was just thinking too much.?




After spending a good hour at the shooting range, both Mitsugi and Richard had worked off a little of their nervous energy. For Mitsugi it was the still echoing stress of his position. In Richard?s case it was the long flight, for which he had been cramped up for far too long. After picking up his cleaning kit bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Richard decided that he would clean his guns later at his apartment. There was only one place left to visit in the offices. Mitsugi gestured to the door of the chapel with a smile.

?Go on in.?

Richard pushed open the door, which was carved with multiple scenes involving angels, and was greeted with an amazing sight. The interior of the chapel was as long as half of the entire office building. Here there was no soundproofing, nothing to dull his steps. The entire surface of the room was covered in black marble sheeting, and the long sides were buttressed by simple decorative gothic arches of the same material. He walked slowly into the interior, the soft candle lighting catching the glittering veins in the walls, floor, and roof. Between each rib created by the pillars was a small shrine, dedicated to different things. He walked ahead, noticing a Buddhist, Hindu, and Jewish alcoves along with many other, more exotic belief systems. Towards the back, there was a section that was dedicated to what he was interested in. It was a simple shrine, with a pair of kneeling benches, and in the front a finely worked bronze cross hung from the ceiling.

Richard crossed himself, dropping his bags just outside the arches that delineated the alcove. He stepped in and knelt on the hard stone. Dropping his head in front of the simple symbol, his hand reached into his shirt and withdrew the object that never left his body. It was a silver cross attached to a sturdy chain, covered with Celtic symbols, one of his three most precious possessions. Tarnished by wear, it still gleamed in the golden light of the chapel.

?Father, bless this place and my work here,? he whispered. ?I want to ask for your aid in the times to come, and for the future of this project.? He waited for a moment and gave a ghostly smile. ?And may the world never have need of the skills that we have to offer. Amen.?

Gradually he slid the cross back under his shirt. Standing slowly, he bowed and crossed himself a second time. Mitsugi stood up as Richard walked out of the chapel, shutting the door quietly behind him.

?Well, what do you think?? he asked, quirking his eyebrow at Richard. Caine smiled at him and exhaled deeply.

?It?s really nice Mitsugi, really nice,? Richard said, stretching. ?I want to thank you both on behalf of the council and me personally. You?ve done a great job out here with the facilities.?

?Well, save your thanks until you meet the crew,? Mitsugi cautioned. ?You may change your mind.?

?Don?t sell yourself short,? Richard snorted. ?I know you, you?ll have done as well with them as you did with this place. I look forward to meeting them. Now, where the heck to we go to get food around here??

?Somehow I figured you?d work your way around to that,? Mitsugi said. He gestured with his left arm.

Richard smiled. ?Lead on Mac Duff.?



Hotaru Tomoe was having a bad day. No, scratch that. It was a living hell. She had awoken this morning in her suite in the palace with a headache the likes of which she had never experienced before. Stumbling around the large room ornate room, she had managed to get to the bathroom and get a drink. Leaning heavily on the sink table, she looked into the mirror, seeing herself clearly. Her short black hair hung limply around her head, and her violet eyes had impressive black circles under them. Her black pajamas were rumpled. She didn?t even remember getting into them. The drinking last night was a real mistake.

Speaking of drinks, she was going to kill Haruka and Michiru. Have some champagne, they said. It will be fun, they said. Come on and celebrate the New Year. Yeah. Right. The last thing she remembered from the night before was taking Usagi?s crown and dancing around stupidly singing something about how she was the real queen. A none to sober Usagi had tried to take it back resulting in some kind of a scuffle that she could barely remember. The pulsing dehydration headache pounded the back of her eyes, and she closed them, trying to regain her balance.

It seemed that her healing powers would not be able to get rid of this either, which was probably the most annoying part. Damn this having to suffer hangovers, Hotaru thought to herself. The only real coherent thought in her mind right now was the urgent need to get rid of this pain. She levered herself up and tottered over to the shower. A few minutes under the water had her feeling almost like a human being again, and the headache had faded somewhat.

Grumbling some quite creative curses to herself, especially considering the circumstances, Hotaru got dressed and headed down to breakfast. The suite that she lived in was connected to Setsuna?s and Haruka and Michiru?s bedrooms. Setsuna sat at the moderately sized breakfast table, dressed and looking ready to take on the world. She looked up from her morning tea and smiled at Hotaru as the younger woman walked into the room.

She didn?t say a word to Setsuna as she plopped down in her customary seat, but she was generating such irritation that the elder woman didn?t bother trying to talk to her. Almost as soon as she had sat down she sprang up again and went into their personal kitchen. After Hotaru had fixed herself something to eat in the kitchen, and poured herself some tea, she returned to the table and sat down with a grunt. Setsuna, who had up until this point been reading today?s paper, looked mildly over in Hotaru?s direction, a slight expression of distaste on her lips warring with a smug grin.

?So,? Setsuna remarked lightly, turning back to her paper. ?Did you enjoy yourself last night??

?Oh,? Hotaru replied just as lightly in return. ?I had fun up until the two darling aunts of mine tried to get me more intoxicated than the rest of the party combined.?

?Mmm...,? Sharon remarked. ?How much of the night do you really remember??

?Well,? she said squinting a little and taking a sip of tea. ?I remember dancing around like an idiot singing how I was a fairy princess and stealing Usagi?s crown, but after that, nothing.?

?Oh,? Sharon said, her face breaking into a large smile. ?Then you probably don?t remember how you hit on Mamoru....?

Hotaru?s eyes screwed up and her face altered hue to match that of a tomato. She was actually incapable of speech for about thirty seconds, and then hissed.

?I?m going to get those two.....ohh......I?m going to kill them and then....?

?It?s going to have to wait dear,? Sharon said, cutting off the rant. She pointed with one elegant finger to the headline she had been reading. ?It looks as though there was another magical attack last night, maybe early morning. And guess who?s on duty for this one?? It took a few seconds for Hotaru?s poor abused brain to catch up, but when she did, it took all of her effort not to swear some more.

?Why is it that whenever I get a vacation from work, some one always seems to end up trying to interrupt it?? Hotaru asked glumly, rubbing her temples.

?You know better than to ask that question,? Sharon said, finishing her tea. ?However, to give you a bit of a break, I?m coming with you. Tokyo P.D. will be waiting for us at Sixth street and Eighth Avenue.?

Hotaru?s head jerked up, and she gave Sharon a strange look. ?Two questions. One, That?s in the middle of the Jungle isn?t it? And two, why are you coming with me? You have the day off.?

?Well it is in the Jungle,? Sharon said with a tight smile. ?But apparently this was so horrific that the locals called it in. Interesting change of pace for them. And also it?s not like you?re in the best shape right now. I figured that a little company would cheer you up.?

Hotaru stood up and stretched. She finished her tea and toast quickly, and looked over to her adoptive guardian.

?Well, hopefully my headache will go away.?



It didn?t.

Sailor Saturn and Sailor Pluto stood in front of what had been a building a few hours previously. At first glance Hotaru had not understood why they had been called in at all. It looked like a straightforward arson case. The building, or what was left of it, had been burned at extremely high temperatures. The only things left standing were the four outer walls. Everything else was simply ash. While this was very unusual, in fact downright weird, it could be done with normal chemicals and incendiary explosives.

What the fire investigators had explained to them when they arrived was that there was no evidence of any accelerants whatsoever. As if that wasn?t unusual enough, two other pieces of strange information had trickled in.

The first was from a mole in one of the local Yakuza families, who had tipped off the central offices that there was to be a high level meeting of all of the Tokyo area bosses last night. All of the best intelligence that they had been able to gather centered the meeting here, or nearby.

The second little tidbit had been that one of the local bums, their only eyewitness, had claimed that a spear of fire had descended from the heavens and annihilated the building. Of course the man was so hopped up on something that it was unlikely that this was the case, but at this point the fire investigators shrugged and admitted that it might as well be fire from the sky. They had never seen a fire so utterly thorough.

As Hotaru walked closer to the devastated building she could still feel the residual heat radiating off of it. The walls of the building were a pitch black color on the inside, as if flash burned by an intense heat. She watched as one of the firemen stuck his pick into the wall, testing its integrity. It still looked quite solid, the interior members untouched by the strange flame. Sharon walked up beside her and looked at the growing hole in the wall.

?The supports aren?t burnt Sharon,? she said softly. ?You know this is looking worse and worse.?

Sharon nodded silently. They both watched in silence as the work crews went about their business. After almost a minute Sharon spoke up.

?I think that I?m going to check the perimeter and the neighborhood for any traces. Would you check the building??

Hotaru nodded and walked to the center of the destroyed building. She noted the twisted lumps of metal in the uniform dark grey ash that was all that remained of the interior. Wrinkling her nose at the stench that emanated from the ruins, she knelt down in the doorway and pressed her hands down into the still hot ashes.

They were a less uniform gray up close, and soft to the touch. Closing her eyes, she expanded her awareness, trying to feel for anything unusual. Suddenly she felt an alien power give her the equivalent of a psychic slap. Jerking herself upright, she looked at the ashes with a new respect.

Something had used magic here. A lot of magic. Hotaru?s head began to pound even worse.




She sat down at her desk in the heart of the Internal Security building, putting the collected files and information down on the table. Pursing her lips, Hotaru spread out the photos in front of her and rifled through them one at a time, looking for anything that might give her a clue as to what was going on here. After an hour of pointless looking, she finally gathered up the pictures and returned them to their folder and leaning back in her chair with a sigh.

Her position was one that was rare in any kind of bureaucracy, mostly because of her unprecedented flexibility. She had the formal title of Mage Inspector, although all of those that she worked with knew her as Sailor Saturn, or Ms. Tomoe. Basically every strange thing that the police came across would be referred to her for inspection. If it was big enough, it would be brought to the attention of the other Senshi. Technically she only reported to Rei and Usagi, but in practice she was so involved in Tokyo law enforcement that she worked very closely with the chief inspectors and the precinct commissioners.

So far her work had been fairly light since taking this position after two years of training. Her love of history and analysis had suited her well in the field of investigation, and she had learned quickly. It had also initially been light enough to continue with her studies, but the pressure had been growing lately. In the last two months the number of unusual deaths and injuries in the greater Tokyo area had skyrocketed. Multiple bodies had been found all around the city, each looking as though it had been consumed by flame, burned alive.

Hotaru shuddered in the privacy of her office. She thought at the time that it had probably just been the work of some sick serial killer, but she had been unable to shake another kind of uneasiness around those poor people. Now, a building was so burned that it had been reduced to piles of ash, leaving the walls intact. On top of that, there was an incredible aura of magic around the remains of the building. It was almost as if it were an invitation, or a calling card.

Pushing her chair back she stood and yawned. Looking at the clock on the wall, she sighed. It was getting late now, and the Tokyo city lights were coming on, a string of brilliant orbs strewn across a snowy plain of a city. It was beautiful and calm. From where she stood, looking out the windows of the thirtieth story office, she could feel the weight of responsibility crushing down on her shoulders. All of this was hers to protect, and to nurture along with the other Senshi.

She walked over to the window and pressed her delicate hand against the window, her breath leaving a steam on the pane. Hotaru had vowed to herself that she would not rule again. The others, while they didn?t like their jobs a whole heck of a lot, took it up as their duty once more. Most of the Senshi back in the Silver Millennium had not had the misfortune to have been a brutal dictator or started a civil war. God what a mess that had been. It had nearly been her death, and countless others had truly died in that conflict. She and her brother had been such fools.

When her brother had returned she had at first been apprehensive, but soon she had begun to pick her life up again. That had turned out to be a mixed blessing. Though they had managed to reconcile their past differences, much to Hotaru?s relief, it had also brought a new wave of trouble. And the Tumbler.

Pushing the memories out of her head, she shivered again. That was the real reason that she knew that she could not rule again. Not when she had seen such terrible things in her mind. She shook her head, trying to clear away the nightmares, but they clung on, watching from the corners of her mind, waiting. No, the others couldn?t understand what she had seen, just like she couldn?t understand their hells. At the level at which that damned creature had worked, it was far too personal. What she had seen there had been the true source of her avoidance of much political power.

Usagi had said that she understood, and had let Hotaru pick this position, leaving her to her own devices. Part of it was how much younger she seemed than the others. The time shifting had left her feeling old and young at the same time. Half remembered courts of unsurpassed beauty mingled with her old life with her father, whirling into a confusing maelstrom.

Yet, at least a some of her felt that Sharon understood, even if the others did not. She had never told her guardian about what she had seen, but it was almost as if Pluto could read her mind. Hotaru secretly believed that Sharon had somehow convinced Usagi and the Inner Scouts not to put any pressure on her in this area, and for that Hotaru was grateful.

So now she had the position of a relatively lowly inspector. Not a queen, not a princess. No, she was just plain old Hotaru unless there was a need for Sailor Saturn, and then she was a guardian. It was a great relief to not have to shoulder such a responsibility as the others had.

She removed her hand from the glass as she turned back to her cluttered desk, stretching in a catlike manner. I should probably go home, she thought to herself. I think that I?ve done all that I can do with this tonight. She put on her coat, hat and pink mittens. The clothing was actually pretty funny, considering that it made her look like someone?s twelve year old sister, but she enjoyed it. Her thoughts turned towards home and dinner. Her revenge on Haruka was going to be soooo sweet....

But as she turned off the lights, she spared a last glance at her desk, and the sinking feeling returned. The file sat on her desk, and she could almost feel it mocking her inability to do anything. She turned to go home, little niggling doubts itching away at the corners of her mind.

Well here we go. I've decided to break down the following chapters into smaller chunks to make them easier to read. However, it would be nice if the people out there let me know what they think of this monster....

Heh.

Any comment, even four letter words of encouragement or discouragement are quite welcome.

But, you ain't here to listen to me ramble, so.... on with the show!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3: Interviews/Introductions


Section 1


“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Mitsugi turned to look at Richard with a slightly lifted eyebrow. “Of course I think it’s a good idea. How else are we going to get any work done around here? Besides, it helps to know what the cops know. We’re not in a competition here.”

Richard shook his head in a gesture of ambivalence as they walked into the Japanese Department of the Interior, dressed in their business best. Mitsugi had informed him of the plan last night, and for all his particular reservations, Richard couldn’t argue with his friend’s logic too much.

They were here to negotiate a deal with the local authorities. Richard had a great deal of success with this approach back on the west coast. It was an accepted practice for certain private detective agencies to maintain a close relationship with the police. Scratch my back, I scratch yours kind of mentality. But what they were attempting to do here, well, this was a little bit different.

This time they were trying to sell themselves off as consultants, experts in the field of mystical investigation. So they had come here today to meet with the head of Internal Security. It had taken a two month wait on Mitsugi’s part to get here, but finally it had come about, just as their offices were really ready for business.

Following the labyrinthine hallways, they finally arrived at the office of the minister. It was fairly unassuming from the outside, just a pair of wooden doors with two guards dressed in a typical Secret Service manner. They took a long look at the pair as they walked down the otherwise empty hallway, their hands moving ever so slightly towards their weapons. Mitsugi walked straight up to them with a genial smile and bowed.

“Good morning sirs,” he said in his most gentle voice. “I believe we have an appointment with Lady Hino. We are from Caine Securities.”

The guards did not even respond verbally but nodded, and eased their hands away from their side arms and opened the doors wide. As Mitsugi and Richard walked into the room they took in their surroundings with a feeling of slight awe. The room was large and spacious but had a definite minimalist touch. The ceilings of the room must have been at least twenty feet tall, and the wood work was most impressive. The walls were lined with antique bookshelves containing all kinds of volumes, both in Japanese and a dozen other languages, as well as binders and notebooks.

The floors were carpeted and towards the back of the room were several tall windows which looked out over Tokyo. The furniture of the place was dominated by a single large European desk with a huge blotter. There were only two chairs in the room, one in front of the desk, and one behind it. It was the occupant of this chair that drew both Mitsugi’s and Richard’s attention.

Mitsugi had seen her once before, but this was Richard’s first time meeting her in the flesh. The pictures in her dossier didn’t really do her justice. She was slight and thin, but athletic looking. Her long black hair was brought back in a tight ponytail, cascading down her back. Her single piece red dress was tight, but covered her from the neck down. Currently she was bent over a paper signing something with a slight frown on her face. As Mitsugi cleared his throat she looked up with a sharp jerk of her head.

Rei Hino was a busy woman these days. Charged with monitoring and executing the security policies of Queen Serenity, she had an enormous amount work to do. Sitting behind her expansive desk which was littered with reports and assignments needing her personal attention, she radiated the responsibility of her position. As she looked up at them, Richard felt slivers of ice moving up his spine. Her face was beautiful and well proportioned, but it was her eyes that drew him in. They were hard and calculating, and bored into him with an intensity that he had rarely felt.

Richard felt his own eyes hardening in response and he met her gaze head on, blue eyes blazing. But somehow, in her presence, he felt a great deal out of his depth. Those eyes were old, very old, and in such a youthful face they were absolutely terrifying.

Richard and Mitsugi both walked up to a few feet from the desk, and Mitsugi bowed deeply. Richard inclined his head slightly, but never broke eye contact with the woman. For a few seconds she stared into his eyes, then cocked her head to the side, acknowledging Mitsugi’s bow.

“Well, mister O’Gannon is it?” Hino asked, an expression of curiosity crossing her lips. “Who is your companion?”

“My name is Richard,” he said, inclining his head once more. “I’m one of the head investigators from the United States.”

Sailor Mars seemed to take this into account, but gave him a slightly suspicious look. Looking back to Mitsugi, she waved her hands. “I must admit that when I read your proposal, I was intrigued to say the least. But not all of it was in a good way. I have a few questions for you.”

As she spoke her voice grew colder and suspicious, but if Mitsugi was rattled, he gave no sign of it, simply nodding respectfully at her comments. “Ask away your Grace.”

“How are you able to track the things that you claim to be able to?” she asked, a note of real interest creeping into her voice.

“Well,” Mitsugi responded thoughtfully. “A great deal of it has to do with technology that was developed in the last three years, but isn’t really available on the open market. Things like field detectors and other forensic equipment that Caine Industries has been developing, but is still in the testing phase. Once they have the bugs worked out, they will be made available for purchase by any police department that wants them.”

Rei Hino nodded at this, but her gaze remained skeptical. “So in essence, what you want to do is to give this stuff a field test with the Tokyo Police Department?”

“Sort of your Grace,” Mitsugi responded carefully. “We wish to have a kind of... consulting relationship with your Grace’s Police concerning any kind of magical investigation. What we want to do is really bring investigative procedures and practices into the realm of magical events. Many at Caine Industries think that this would be a very important step into the future.”

“Well your relationships with the United States and Republic of Texas are quite interesting, and you give a good speech,” Hino said with a wan smile. “But you want to be given licence to work as an independent investigative body, don’t you?”

Mitsugi’s left eye twitched slightly. “Well, your Grace, to be honest and straightforward, yes we do. We feel that a close relationship with the Tokyo P.D. will be very productive, but we essentially wish to remain private detectives and consultants.”

“I’m glad that you’ve been so candid,” she said, her smile turning shark-like. “It is a rare pleasure to have someone lay out their proposals in such a straight forward manner. However I fear I must decline your request.”

Mitsugi said nothing, privately expecting this, but Richard stood up straighter and leveled a piercing gaze at Rei Hino.

“What capacity do you have to detect and prove magical crimes, Lady Hino?” he asked, his anger causing him to speak in chopped tones.

“We are Sailor Senshi,” Hino responded, her voice raising. “We have been dealing with supernatural threats for longer than you’ve probably known they exist.”

Richard laughed at her, his gaze never wavering. “And how can you expect to deal with magical threats from behind a desk? Wouldn’t you like to have your own police able to both investigate and prosecute magical perpetrators?”

For a second it looked as if Hino would throw them out of her office, but she leaned back in her chair, multiple expressions warring for control of her face. Finally the grimace won out and she leaned forward, picking up a folder and tossing it to Mitsugi.

“Fine. I’ll give you people a test run,” she said, her grimace turning into a tight smile. “But it won’t be easy. I want you to track down the Jungle Arsonist. I want that man’s head on a platter. He is suspected to have murdered more than fifteen people, twelve of them on New Year’s Day. The police and the Senshi have no leads, so you had better find them. You will, of course, be working with Internal Security and the Tokyo P.D.”

Richard looked down at the folder and back to Hino. “Who will be our liason with your Grace and Caine Security?”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” she stated, turning to the side and pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to Mitsugi. “That is the time and address of the meeting that I scheduled for your investigators and our primary magic enforcement agent. Her name is Hotaru Tomoe.”

Richard looked back at her, and he felt his lips pulling into a smile to match hers. “Sailor Saturn, eh? So, you were planning to give us a test run all along?”

“Most likely, but I wanted to conduct the interview first,” she admitted, leaning back in her chair and putting her arms behind her head. “I wanted to see what you were made of. I see that you don’t disappoint, Mr. Caine.”

Mitsugi sat up a little, but Richard did not twitch. Indeed he had been expecting something of the sort as soon as she had handed them the appointment. Instead their staring contest resumed, and the intensity of the clash of wills was impressive, to say the least.

“Well, your Grace, I have to admit that I’m impressed,” Richard admitted. “You are a formidable woman, and your intelligence information is quite good.”

“You’re an interesting person as well,” Hino said, switching over to English. “But I ask that your company deliver to us what you promised in your sales pitch. It’s no easy claim to say that you have forensics that work on magic.”

“Don’t worry,” Richard replied with a grin. “You will get our full efforts on this case. I hear that this guy’s a real sick one.” He nodded to Mitsugi and both of them stood and bowed to her. She nodded in return and waved a dismissal with her left hand. Just as Richard was about to reach the door, he stopped and turned to face Hino, regarding her levelly.

“Oh your Grace, just out of curiosity, what was it that gave me away?”

“Your name and your appearance could very well have given you away,” Rei said as she smiled a genuine grin at him. “But to tell the truth, it was your eyes. You never looked away and always looked at me with the gaze of an equal. If you want to be incognito Mr. Caine, I think that you should adopt a little more humility.”

As the two men walked out of Rei Hino’s office, the hallways echoed with their combined laughter.

Heh heh, very well done. Personally, I have the most trouble with conversations, so it's great to learn from another writer who does it so well. I'm really interested in seeing where this goes.

From the sound of things, I guess even random thugs on the street can pick up magic. That's not a comforting thought.

Oh, the fun hasn't even started yet....

Mwahahahaha!

Actually, the enemies in this case won't be just normal street thugs, but you'll get to know them a little better soon.

Will post the rest of the chapter this evening.

I guess all I can do is hope they won't be anything like what I have in mind for my story. ^__^

I wouldn't worry too much about that.

There's some seriously whacked stuff in my head....