Part 1: Fate Must Hate Us
A Sailormoon Fanfiction
Rewritten for the Umpteenth Time Because My Computers Hate Me
By: Azurite
Post-Sailormoon Sailorstars
REWRITE: 03112002
COMPLETE: 03292002
Note: I don't own anything particularly Star Trekkish in this
fanfiction, which is due to be several parts long... roughly
8 to 10, if I remember correctly. Also, the title has nothing
to do with QS the *person,* but the nickname for "Mercury" (Hg)
the element, the only known liquid metal... used in thermometers...
yeah. ^^;

Double Rainbow Moon Note: My computer (as you can tell from above
and my last post on SMRFF) hates me. It has turned all of my
fanfiction, webpages, and fic ideas into utter gibberish. Until
dratted tech support gets back to me, I am retyping as much as I
can [remember] so I can pass the time [and ignore my homework].
^^ Props to all the wonderful folks who have the "whoo-pah" to stay
on SMRFF *cheers* YEAH!

Disclaimer-ness: Like, uh, der. I don't own Sailormoon.

One Last Note: This takes place in the Sailormoon [manga] continuity,
so you have to back-travel a bit... Sailormoon's adventures ended in
1995. One and a half years later (1997), things started happening.
Three years later, our story begins...

It happened gradually, really. It had to have, for Usagi didn't
notice. They just... were there one day, and... NOT the next. Usagi
didn't know what to make of it.
Perhaps it was just some strange coincidence or whatnot... but
the fact that *all* of her friends went missing... roughly at the
same time- gave Usagi the kick in the pants she needed to do some
investigating on her own.
It had been a while since she'd done anything on her own,
really-- though it had to have been a good year and a half since
she'd even thought about -much less fought- any other-wordly enemies.
The same was true for everything else in Usagi's current simple life.
She went to school with the girls, studied with the girls,
hung out with the girls... her friends were everything to her.

Mamoru? Of course, he was finishing up getting his law degree
in Harvard. They had been sending each other letters not long after
he returned to Boston, but, Usagi noticed after all the girls went
missing, the last letter had been postmarked over two months ago.
What had happened to everyone?


"Chikuso... what is taking so *long*?" The girl muttered as she
walked across the platform for the fiftieth time. She'd been
counting... because there was nothing else to do.
A slightly muffled laugh came to her ears, and the silver-haired
maiden shot an angry glare at her companion.
"What!?" The girl demanded of her laughing partner, who proceeded
only to laugh more at the angered tone in her friend's voice.
"Swearing isn't very becoming of a lady, you know."
"No one ever said I was a lady." The silver-haired one
harrumphed, turning her back on her friend. The scowl that had
decorated her lovely face for the last hour returned-- and this time,
with a stunning ferocity added to it.
As her blonde friend stretched and shrugged off her companion's
odd behavior, she moved closer to the door of the cockpit of the ship
they were flying in.

"Silver..." The blonde warned, a serious expression on her face.
The taller, more muscular stood up, placing a firm hand on her
friend's shoulder as a sort of warning.
Silver stood rigid, and then shook her friend's grip off. She turned around slowly, her hand raised to press the pad that would gain
them entrance to the helm of the ship Alphos.
"We can't just sit here and wait for the old pilot to get us
where we need to go. It might mean we part ways sooner, but..." Silver
paused, quite obviously searching for a good explanation.
"I found you, Haruka. Even if I lose you again, I know that we
have to try and find the others... before all this goes down, and we're
all lost from each other again."
"Usagi..." Haruka murmured. Usagi -Silver- wagged a finger at her
friend, a smirk on her face.
"Nah-uh. Since I joined the Alliance, I'm Quicksilver," A pause,
"And you're Tenkami."
"Wakatta, wakatta..." Haruka mumbled incoherently in their native
Japanese. She waited for Usagi to press the doorpad, and the two
stepped into the cramped and cluttered cockpit.

"What--" Usagi demanded in her best "Don't mess with me" voice,
"Is going on here?" She glanced up at the clock, which read 23:48 in
blinking red digits.
"I'm supposed to be at the docking port in less than 15 minutes,
and we're just hovering here?"
Haruka -Tenkami- could barely withold the laughter at the scene--
Usagi was so different from the girl she had been years ago.
They had a good half-hour before they would permanently part
ways-- what harm would a little reminiscing do?

"Ne, Silver," Tenkami started, a smirk on her face, "Maybe
you should just yank the controls out of his hand-- like you did
on the Orion."
Silver smiled brilliantly, devilishly, to a point. She eyed
the aged captain.
"I-I'm 'fraid I can't let you do that, Mis--" Off Silver's
glare, and her pointed look at the difference between his rank
and hers, he mumbled "Ma'am."
"Tenkami." Usagi snapped her fingers, and Tenkami obediently
whipped out a pile of electronic padds -much like Palm Pilots, only
flatter- that detailed, to the letter, their mission and the Alphos'
participation in that. It was rather simple, really-- the Alphos would
transport Captain Quicksilver to her new post on the deep space station
630, while her companion, known as Tenkami, would be routed to Station 127. After that, the Alphos would return to Earth for supplies.
"... according to clause 51, section 31 Alpha-Phi, article X,
'in circumstances of extreme and utter, *dire* emergency--" At
Tenkami's dramatic voice, Silver raised an eyebrow, "The guest captain
of the transport vessel is allowed to assume command--"
"A'right, a'right then! I 'twas just bein' safe 'n all, 'voiding
the mag-field." The captain explained, shifting from the main helm's
seat to the cushioned bench on the side. He cleared away just enough
metal parts to sit down, grumbling as Quicksilver, a young and
beautiful, highly talked-about Captain of the Alliance, took the helm
of his junket.

"A mag-field?" Quicksilver ran her slender fingers across the
controls briefly, tilting her head up to listen to the muffled beeps
of the helm.
She swept the clutter off the console without a moment's
hesitation, and at the loud clatter and the Captain's horrified look,
Tenkami really did break out into laughter.
"You're afraid of a few little bots!?" Silver smiled as she
thrust the forward controls as far as they could-- sending the junket
into hyperspeed.
The clutter on the back of the ship gathered in a loud cacophony
at Quicksilver's feet, and in her joy at finally piloting a ship again
-even one as old and cluttered as the Alphos- she ignored the mess.
"WHOOO! Haha!" Quickilver crowed, using her single hand and
expert control to dive around laser blasts coming from various
debris-disguised bots. It had been like this for a while now...

[Two Years Previous.]

Usagi Tsukino had changed. Well, anyone that had ever known her
would say she'd changed. But then again, everyone she ever knew -really
*knew- was gone.
Her best friends, and her one true love, vanished! It wasn't just
*poof,* but it was so gradual, so *ordinary* looking that until
Usagi felt that enormous sense of loneliness, nothing had seemed
out of the ordinary.
It had been late 1998, and on winter vacation. Mamoru was
supposed to come back for Christmas.
But he didn't.

Instead, the world broke out into a chaos -a frenzy of sorts,
with people from every corner of the globe crying out. They'd
been attacked, people said. Attacked by whom? Terrorists? No.
Survivors from all over the world were brough to the safest
and best hospitals in the world-- one of them being in Tokyo, not
far from where Usagi and the girls went to highschool.
Prior to winter break, everything had *seemed* normal... but
when people began running in mass frenzy, fearing something they
didn't understand, the gut feeling to protect this Earth overcame
Usagi... only to discover that she was alone.
Nothing but static answered her ancient communicator calls--
on some level, that was to be expected. After all, there hadn't been
any youma, daimon, lemures or phages in years. A year and a half, really, since Galaxia.

And now, when the world was flipped inside out and over, Usagi
needed her friends-- but they weren't there. Their second year in high
school had proved to be difficult-- none of them were in the same
classes, and the younger strain of teachers that had filtered into
the Juuban School System taxed the girls -every waking moment. Usagi
barely had time to meet with Rei at the Hikawa Jinja anymore... let
alone grab a sandwich with Ami, play a game with Minako, or go over to Makoto's apartment.
What was worse, the day Usagi realized -everyone was gone- Luna
went missing too. Artemis was nowhere to be found either, though Usagi
suspected that. When she found herself unable to even remember Minako's
address, she got worried.

But that was when war broke out.
People in England, the United States, and France were being
killed by some unknown force. The few survivors that ended up in
Juuban Hospital looked like cyborgs -a sad reminder of Hotaru-
and all the others that had just disappeared.
Usagi was desperate to find out what happened, but couldn't
bring herself to transform into the legendary soldier of the moon.
Without her friends, there was just no point anymore...
Then the attacks started on Japan.

People had feared it long before it became a mass media topic.
Y2K. The year 2000. Everything electronic in the world was supposed to
fritz. Bank accounts would think they were in the year of Queen
Victoria; the International Economy would collapse. Time around the
world would slow to a halt, and, according to some extremists, they
would all die.
Unfortunately, it was true.
People *were* dying. Computers were suddenly getting minds of
their own. As if some powerful force had taken over Earth in the form
of gidgets and gadgets, the human race was forced to fight back against
their own creations in the most primitive, savage ways possible-- with
non-metal, non-electrical weapons forged of quick thought and natural
instinct. It only lasted so long.

Late in 2000, almost a year after the attacks originally began,
an organization known as 'The Alliance' sprung up from the remains
of the United Nations. The Alliance's purpose was simple-- to maintain
humanity's existance. Military personnel from around the world came
to the first meeting of the Alliance.
Teenagers eager to fight back against computers and robots once
their only solace from the harsh realities of the real world joined
in thousands, from around the world. Enemies shook hands under
a unite banner-- that of the Alliance, that of humanity.
Usagi was pursuing her nursing degree by that time, at Juuban
College. Without the "distractions" that had pulled her down in junior
high and the beginning of high school, Usagi easily skipped the first
year of college.
She was the youngest in her class, but also one of the most
advanced. Since the formation of the Alliance, many more teens had
abandoned traditional education, and opted for classes at the newly
established 'Academy' that the Alliance founded in every major country.

Usagi didn't feel the need to go to war against machines. Even if
she had, she didn't have the fighting spirit -or desire- anymore.


[Station 630: Lunar Orbit]

"D-Damn it!"
There was a clang of metal against metal, and suddenly a snort.
"Aw..." The same voice cursed loudly, struggling futiley
underneath a shuttlepod. The male who had cursed so colorfully
slid out from underneath the pod, upon hearing the hiss of the
sliding doors open. The hiss abruptly turned into a loud squeal,
and then an alarm sounded.
"Geez, man, you really need to get this place fixed up."
The speaker stared eye to eye with the repairman, and laughed.
"Motoki..." Mamoru growled. He didn't need *another*
person-- let alone the Chief Repair Technician-- harassing him
about the poor quality of the station.
It was a crappy, skeleton station, with enough space to
fill a small country, but with only enough people on it to fill
a small jet.
It was because of this shortage of crewmembers that Mamoru
had to double his jobs-- as Captain of the station, shuttlepod
repairman... among other things.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to give you the latest technical
status report--" Motoki paused, handing Mamoru a pad, watching
with some amusement as Mamoru wiped some oil off his face, only
to smudge it in further.
"Sir." Then Motoki burst out into uncontrollable laughter,
and only then did Mamoru respond with rolled eyes.
"Man, it's bad enough you dared to mess with hair dye,
and now you look rainbow colored on top... but a nice black
streak on your forehead and cheeks... I didn't know you were one
for the facial ink, man!" Motoki chortled.
"Oh, shut up."
In a position of mock attention, Motoki stood rigidly straight,
and saluted his captain. He then collapsed into a fit on his knees,
laughing even harder.

"If you're going to stay in here, you can at least be useful!"
Mamoru grumbled, sliding back underneath the pod.
"I am, I am..." Motoki grumbled kneeling near Mamoru's toolbox.
As the orders for particular tools came, Motoki handed them to him.
After a minute or so's silence, Motoki spoke.
"So I hear the station's getting a Co-Captain."
"You hear?" Mamoru's sarcastic voice came as a muffled snort.
Motoki was well known as the rumor hoarder of the station-- anything
that could possibly be considered the status of "the battle" on Earth,
and the slow progress to get troops out on the Deep Space stations
was Motoki's news.
"Alright, it's fact... isn't it?"
"Yes." Mamoru grumbled. "Socket wrench."
Motoki handed it to him, and glanced at a padd sitting near the
box. He picked it up, his eyes lighting up when he read the orange
scrolling text.

"Ah, Quicksilver!"
"What?" Mamoru asked, handing Motoki back the socket wrench and
fumbling with his toolbelt to get a screwdriver.
"Hmm... hmmm... hmmm!"
"What are you looking at, you fool?" Mamoru demanded, peering out
from underneath the pod. He slid outward just slightly, his eyes
meeting the cheerful green ones of Motoki's.
"You didn't know that this Co-Captain is the legendary
Quicksilver?" Motoki asked.
A moment's silence, and then: "Never heard of her."
"Where have you been man, the moon!?"
"Well," Mamoru started, sliding out from under the pod
completely, "Yeah."

It was a running joke that since the station was orbiting
Earth's moon, and that it was the only space station, despite its
closeness to Earth, that had a skeleton crew, it was a place where
you ended up, and never left.
"Ah, never mind." Motoki swatted Mamoru's hand away.
"She's your co-captain, why don't you at least get to know her?"
"What are you doing reading my padd, anyway?" Mamoru demanded.
"Oh please, Mamoru. We've been best friends for over six years,
now is *not* the time to get possessive."
"This is different." Mamoru grumbled, sliding under the pod once
"How so?"
"For one thing, I--"
"Outrank me? I know that already, 'Mamoru-sama.' But we both
have the same class of clearance, and me being your Commander and
all, I think it's only fair--"
When Mamoru made a lunge for the padd, Motoki wisely jumped up
and danced out of his captain's reach. Said captain quickly got
irritated, especially when Motoki 'accidentally' hopped on an oil
pitcher and sprayed a good cupful on his face.

"Hm... that's funny." Motoki suddenly stopped dancing away, his
eyes fixated on the padd in his hands.
"What?" Mamoru peered over his best friend and subordinate's
shoulders in interest. Motoki rapidly scrolled up and down through
the document, and his stare only grew in intensity.
"D-Damn it, Motoki, you're scrolling too fast. At least let me
know what is so fascinating about this Quicksilver person."
"Well," Motoki began, pacing about the room, still fixated on the
padd, "It's a she. She apparently doesn't have a last name; maybe she's
like Cher or something."
Mamoru stifled a laugh and waved his hand to signal Motoki to
"She originates... hey, same as us: from Tokyo Base. Graduated
the Academy with Honors... expert pilot. Fastest cadet to ever scale
the ranks."
"Oh, woe is me," Mamoru cried melodramatically, "Someone *beat*
my record!"

"Heh. But still--" Motoki continued pressing his fingers to the
controls on the padd, looking immensely curious.
"What now?"
"Well... that's just it, that's all."
"There's no ID number, no class PIN... not even a picture."
At that, Mamoru snatched the padd from his friend's hand, starting at
it in bewilderment.
"T-That's not possible. Every cadet has to have a picture
taken... and she's going to waltz onto this station and I won't
even know who she is--!"
"Maybe..." Motoki mused, putting a thoughtful forefinger to
his chin.
"Maybe *what*?" Mamoru turned to him, expecting another
ridiculous conspiracy theory to come up.
"Maybe she doesn't really exist. Maybe she's a bot who--"

Before Motoki could "speculate" further, the doors to the
cargo bay slid open with a loud hiss -accompanied by a louder
squeak sure to deafen whoever had the misfortune to try and
come inside the mess that was the bay.
"A-Admiral!" Mamoru and Motoki immediately stood rigidly
straight at attention, and barely relaxed when the balding
American waved his hand at them.
"At ease, boys. Furuhata, I need to talk to you-" Admiral
Crane began, casting an almost apologetic look at a bewildered
and ink-stained Mamoru behind his friend, "Alone."
The Commander said nothing, but followed the Admiral out
of the bay, casting one last look at his friend as he left.
The padd about Quicksilver lay on the floor.

"Everything..." A tall, dark haired woman murmured to the
shadows, "Is proceeding as planned."
The shadows, whose only form was hinted at by a slight vein of
light trickling from a nearby door, nodded in silent agreement. The
slight glassiness of their lenses over their eyes shone as the door
opened fully, and a stocky man in a commanding Alliance uniform
"He's on his way."

"S-Sir!" A young cadet called out, his fingers racing across
the controls of the viewscreen. An aging, balding Admiral strode
purposefully towards said cadet, and in a gruff voice, demanded, "What?"
"A-An unauthorized ship is... is trespassing into the mag field
zone between Sector 27-G, between Neptune and Uranus... t-the ship-p
w-won't answer any standardized subspace hai-hails." The cadet
"Patch me through, cadet." The Admiral ordered, and the cadet,
out of pure nervousness did as ordered in less than a quarter of
the time it took for such a command to be normally carried out.
"USS Starcruiser, what in the seven hells do you think you're
doing?" The Admiral demanded, breaking from his "by-the-book"
A static crackle, and then audio: "James, is that you?"

The cadets stared up at the Admiral, and waited with cocked
heads for the female's response.
"Silver? What in tarnation are you doing?"
"It *is* you, Admiral! Well... I'm uh..." a pause, an audible
phaser shot was heard as a mag-field robot disintegrated, "Having
a bit of fun!"
"You troublemaker, you...! You could be court-martialed for
this, you know!" Admiral James reprimanded in a pretend-harsh tone.
"Ah, but you wouldn't take your best pilot and co-captain of
the Lunar Skeleton Station out of commission before her new transfer,
now would you James? Ah, gotta go--" And the transmission cut off
with a crackle, as the ship on the viewscreen, at least two years old
(ancient for a junket cargo ship) spiraled around a series of mag-field
phaser blasts coming from every direction. Not one seemed to penetrate
the poor ablative sheilding of the ship-- and those pitiful space-bots
that had dared to fire on the legendary Quicksilver's ship soon
exploded the moment it left the corridor between Neptune and Uranus. It
sped at impulse speed towards the Station 127 on the far side of the
Uranian moon, Miranda.

Silence filled the underground Tokyo Base for a while, before
someone dared to crack-- "New record for most bots destroyed in a
single sitting: 25." Laughter filled the room, until Admiral James
silenced the cadets, and they went back to their beeping busywork.
The door that rarely ever opened-- leading to the constantly
darkened Board Room, where the highest commanders of the Alliance
discussed current matters, slid open with a perfect hiss.
No one dared to look at whoever came out, for it was asking for
removal or transfer to Maintenance. Everyone knew that the Board Room
and its associated members were strictly OFF-LIMITS.

"Well?" The woman who had emerged from the darkness of the Board
Room placed a well-tanned hand on Admiral James' shoulder. He didn't
move to look at the woman, though he was acquainted with her well
"She's on her way to 630 as we speak." Admiral James stated
gruffly. He moved away from the console and the throngs of cadets
busily typing in orders to med teams traversing the Earth, fighting
off bot attacks near the major cities and bases.
"Everything is proceeding as planned." The woman smiled, a rare
but genuine smile. She brushed a long, dark green strand away from
her face and turned to go back into the dark Board Room.
"Commander-- w-what about Chiba? And his friend, Furuhata?"
The woman's smile fell, glancing out of the corner of her maroon
eye as the once self-assured and confident Admiral of Tokyo Base
Commands stuttered in her presence. She didn't want it to be like
this... but it had to be done-- for the good of the future!
"Chiba will adapt. He has adapted before, he shall again.
Furuhata is on his way here. We have... an interest in him."
No more was said as the woman stepped into the dark room once
more, and Admiral James turned back to the viewscreen monitoring
the orbits of the stations surrounding Earth, the Moon, and Mars.

"What is taking this woman so long?" Mamoru growled. It wasn't
just that he'd spent all day trying to fix the engines of a damaged
space pod... or that Motoki had suddenly recieved orders from the
Board that he was to be transferred back to Tokyo Base...
Maybe it was.
But getting a Co-Captain who had less information in her file
than... than... well, NORMAL people... it was infuriating. But at
this exact point in time, Mamoru felt he needed someone around...
someone he totally knew and could trust.
For the longest time, it had been Motoki.
When he'd returned from Harvard, and had been unable to find
Usagi -or any of the other Senshi, for that matter- he'd been lost.
He still had a home, yes, but without Usako... there was just no
meaning. He had raked his brain and practically destroyed his
house looking for some sign, some clue that she was still around...
that something cosmically phoenomenal had not happened, and left him
all alone.
At least, that was how it seemed, when one day, he stumbled
on the Crown Arcade. Of all the people thronging the popular
games, the only person he knew was Motoki-- his best friend. They
stayed together no matter what, going as far as moving into Mamoru's
oversized and expensive apartment together like it was some college
dorm-- and when the War broke out, and all technology "revolted"
against its masters, they stayed together, joined the Alliance
together, and soon rose through the ranks enough to be put in command
But now, fate had separated them, and that insane fear, dread,
and loneliness threatened to overwhelm Mamoru once more.

Over an hour and a half had passed since his new co-captain
was due to arrive at the station-- he knew enough from the data
padd that she was being transferred from somewhere near Neptune,
but was being routed through a cargo ship known as the Starcruiser.
Since she and only one other nameless passenger were expected to
travel this particular route near the station, the Starcruiser
was the most efficient ship to take-- being a cargo ship that resembled
a used car more than a space-worthy vessel.
Bored, and left alone with his meandering thoughts, Mamoru let
the time slide by. Becoming quite accustomed to the silence, as well
as his tingling legs, which had fallen asleep twenty minutes ago,
he was startled when the airlock slid open with a loud hiss.
An old, seemingly disgruntled man walked through, juggling
in his arms... a young girl?

Mamoru stomped a few times to restore circulation to his leg,
and strode purposefully over to the old man carrying what seemed to
be his co-captain of this skeleton station. She was sound asleep.
On first glance, Mamoru could not deny that she was lovely--
long, platinum silver hair fell to her mid-back, tied in a loose braid.
She wore the standard commanding Alliance uniform of deep gray and
jet black, but her shoulders were marked with four gold pips in a row,
as well as a purple heart and a blue star-- two awards of high honor
that were rarely distributed in a time of war. The purple heart was
the award of bravery and valor in the face of danger-- awarded to
those who had dared to sacrifice their own lives to save others.
What was more, the blue star signified an honorary Academy award,
one that no doubt had something to do with this 'Quicksilver's' amazing
learning skills and piloting talent.
"Sorry, Sir," The old captain began in a rough Scottish brogue,
"We ran into a mag-field, an' we had to drop her friend off at 127
nearin' Uranus. A long trip, sir."
"Yeah..." Mamoru murmured. There was something oddly familiar
about this girl, but... he shook it out of his head. She was a damned
co-captain, the very symbol that Mamoru didn't need-- the Board
obviously enjoye torturing him, first by taking away his best friend
on some no doubt suicidal and hocus mission to Earth's Tokyo Base,
and now by saying he needed to have a co-captain for a skeleton
"Well, cap'n, she was just so tired after routing through the
Neptunian mag field she just plum fell asleep back in the storage
bay... I 'pologize for her, sir's."
"It's alright, thank you. I'll... uh, bring her to her quarters."
The older captain of the Starcruiser looked a bit unsure for
a moment, but relinquished the woman into the boy's hands. As he turned
back to the airlock where his ship was docked, he chuckled.
"Good luck with her, sir. She's a feisty one. Sad, though. But
definitely fiesty."
The man's chortling echoed even after the airlock doors closed,
and Mamoru wondered what he was getting into.
End of Quicksilver, Part 1: Fate Must Hate Us
Coming soon, Part 2: Destined Meetings
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