Which enemies would best apply?

[Daniel Jess Gibson]

This is a scene from SSM far in the future. Set in `Modern` Japan, in terms that both the Sailor Scouts and the NWC are in operation. Several of the pilots are there, temporarily, and not of their free will. But they are making themselves useful.

. . . Makoto turned to her rescuer, she had seen him in Juuban before. She was too tired and frightened by this overwhelming invasion to care whether he knew about her secret identity or not. He probably already figured it out, she thought as she struggled to her feet once she'd transformed. "If I'm going to die, I'm going to die standing," the Sailor Scout told him. The youma kept approaching, new soldiers adding to the already considerable crowd. The approach of the enemy was obvious, they weren't hiding, or giving the usual idiot speeches. That alone is worrying and so many of them, she thought, But they caught us all unawares. I don't know if the others are even alive anymore. They knew all my strengths and weaknesses. They probably got the others. What are they waiting for? She glanced over at the man who'd saved her. Despite the pouring rain and the combat, he still looked rather dapper. In a grim sort of way, she thought. "So do you toss roses and make speeches."

. . . "I do talk too much, lecture actually," he said, reservedly surveying the increasing numbers of youma moving into view, as though they didn't matter.

. . . He acts like he's waiting for something, she thought as she glanced around, more powerful youma were arriving, bulking up the rear of the line, He certainly doesn't act as if we're going to die.

. . . "If I tossed you a rose, I'd advise throwing it at distant foe," he told her and smiled, taking her hand, "I'd never throw a delicate flower like that, it has thorns. Part of a rose's true beauty is that it has a sharper side."

. . . Makoto blushed at the gentle caress of her hand and the warm smile. She thought all manner of naughty images about him, and herself, and them and . . .

. . . "I'm afraid business makes its demands," he said sadly and released her hand.

. . . "How sweet," one of the youmas said, a giant of a creature arriving at the rear of the formation.

. . . Then she recognized him. "You can't be, we defeated you!" she shouted, feeling terror, remembered how easily she'd been defeated the last time she faced him.

. . . "New and improved," he said and smiled, "Still `dateless` eh," he told her and leered, "Maybe we let you have your little boytoy, then we'll kill him first, and let you watch. Tear him apart . . . real slow."

. . . She felt sick and desperate. I can't beat him, not without the others, she thought miserably, If we'd just run for it . . . maybe he'd live. I'm supposed to protect ordinary people, not get them killed!

. . . "I call upon you to surrender in the name of his Imperial Majesty, the people and the nation of Japan. If this order is not followed with dispatch, you will be held fully liable for all consequences," her new friend called out.

. . . Makoto stared at him in disbelief. He actually sounds like he means it! she thought in shock, He actually looks like he means it! Well, being alive was fun while it lasted. She looked back at the growing force of youma and prepared herself for a battle she knew she was going to lose.

. . . "Yeah? You and what army?" her nemesis cackled, the other youma joined in.

. . . Bought us a few more seconds, Makoto thought as she glanced around, picking her targets, she felt sick, I'll go down fighting, but I'll make them kill me.

. . . "Some entrances truly deserve musical accompaniment," he whispered to her.

. . . She heard the sound of vehicles, wheels and treads. As the red and blue lights painted the scene with flashes of blood and lightning, she turned to look at the approaching reinforcements.

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. . . Something menacing yet majestic, Jeff thought, Akira Ifukube or John Williams, if it was a good Scot like me, maybe Carter Burwell.

. . . The two police cars raced in through the pouring rain, light flashing, but no sirens. They scattered out of the way. They had led the hunters to the prey, now they cleared the field.

. . . Following behind were three of the older Type 74 tanks, and two of the newer Type 90's. The growl of diesels, their guns swinging to the side, made them seem like some human‑made demonic lifeform. The tanks swung out wide on either flank, covering the packed force of youma.

. . . Not so confident now? Are you? he wondered of the youma now desperately looking around, But even the ultimate armored fist of Japan, are nothing more than the escorts. Jeff stared at the youma leader, Jeff smiled and oozed confidence, enjoying watching the monster failing surety as the high‑pitched turbine engines drew the massive maebser tank into sight. (Microwave Amplification by Exomer Boosted Simulated Emission of Radiation, English translation: +5 or better magic weapon to hit, no problem]

. . . "Wow, my sensei never looked like that!" the girl exclaimed, hope in her voice and little hearts in her eyes.

. . . Jeff glanced back, and smiled. Very good, he thought, watching the maebser tank. Tatewaki Kuno knelt alongside the tank's roof‑mounted machine gun. Somehow his hair had avoided the effect of the near monsoonal rains, it billowed in the wind. He does look rather magnificent doesn't he, Jeff thought, Riding the dragon of steel into battle.

. . . The nose of the huge war machine dipped as it came to a stop, then Kuno leapt as the vehicle righted itself. No flip, no ostentation, Kuno landed standing, and simply stared at the collected youma, offended by their very existance. He drew his sword, and made an imperious gesture to the left, and the two Type 90's dashed forward, then to the left, and the Type 74's dashed up, the five tanks now catching the entire force in a close crossfire, the maebser tank closing up the distance behind him as he began walking.

. . . Yet somehow he's reduced them to his loyal vassals holding the enemy, while their liege lord take his own time to approach, Jeff thought as he stared at Kuno's steady, step‑by‑step, unhurried approach. Various metal on metal sounds making the tanks' intentions clear, main and machine guns would open up on orders. Yet it all seemed secondary to the advance of the lone swordsman. Jeff looked into the other boy's smoldering gaze as he walked forward. The madness that had always been such a part of Tatewaki burned hot and fierce in that stare. If anything, Jeff realized, It's greater, deeper. Yet . . . somehow it's ennobled him. No longer a samurai‑wannabe. He really believes he is a samurai from the 15th century, lost in this alien time. Still held by the steel grip of honor to his vow to protect and defend the nation. No matter that his liege and `son of Heaven` lay some half‑millennia in the ground, no matter that this place and time are not his own. No matter that the weapons are beyond him. He's finally become what he always believed himself to be. He might be chuckled about, he might laugh at himself alongside his comrades, but he's no joke anymore.

. . . Kuno's eyes fixed for a moment on the girl. No stupid speech about love and beauty. No running dash forward. Only a curt a hand gesture, summoning the supporting infantry forward. Japanese Special Forces scrambled forward carrying a stretcher, easily outpacing Kuno's steady advance. The soldiers closed on the girl, not just because she was young and pretty, but she was the only one apparently wounded. The soldiers gave Jeff a quick look, but withdrew with the girl as swiftly as they had advanced.

. . . Jeff returned his attention to the youma, who were nervously murmuring among themselves, the front line edging back. They had no idea who this was, but none of them wanted to be the first to find out. Kuno walked past him, stopped a pace ahead. He stared at his enemies, his sword held at his side.

. . . "Miss Langley is right," Kuno said calmly, barely audible over the rain, "You cannot be left unsupervised."

. . . "I figure I could find and fix them, then let someone finish them off," Jeff replied equally quietly, making his own preparations for battle. With the girl clear, he thought with a smile, I can really open up on these `gentlemen`.

. . . Kuno turned his head to look at Jeff. "Then we have need of you," Kuno said and returned his attention to the youma. He raised his sword and his voice, "You will surrender as ordered, or face the wrath of his Highness the son of Heaven and his loyal vassals!"

. . . The laughter of the youma lacked the conviction they'd had a few minutes ago.

. . . Nervous I'd say, he thought, suddenly Kuno threw himself flat, Jeff followed, and all the tanks fired at once. As the flash and roar of the salvo faded Jeff lifted his head. No remnant of the youma remained. "Thanks for the warning," Jeff said as he stood and offered his hand to Kuno to help him up.
. . . "Miss Langley informed me that none would be necessary," Kuno said, a faint smile gracing his features as he took Jeff's hand, a grip of equals, "She was most ‑ definite ‑ on that subject. Now we need to find the center and source of this invasion on the soil of Japan." He released Jeff's hand and was back to all business.

. . . "I'm afraid they aren't one and the same," Jeff told him, "And the lady's friends may be necessary."

. . . "Then we will rescue them," Kuno said simply as he turned to head back to the maebser tank.

. . . "Scary," Jeff said quietly as he walked to where the soldiers were guarding the blanket‑wrapped girl. Maybe this is what Langley always saw in him, he thought.

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. . . Basically, who is the best enemy of the most dateless senshi to send against them?

. . . No hurry, this won't be occurring until 1948 SSM time.

. . . Daniel