Fatal Fury Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sailor Rifts ❯ Chapter 17: Survival of the... Ahem... Fittest ( Chapter 17 )

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

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

Chapter 17: Survival of the... Ahem... Fittest

It reminded her of her homeland, in a dark, beggar ridden, alley
corner turned home kind of way. Wandering brought her nowhere, as she
had no idea as to her location in the first place. What it did offer,
was fear, the awareness that she was being watched, and followed.
Their often tattered red jackets made them stand out, even in the
corners of her vision. She counted roughly six of them now. She wanted
to bolt, but she knew that would only draw Phate nearer, sooner.

Beyond that, there was no telling what else was out there.

Losing her arm was turning out to be the least of it in the light of
being stalked so. Reality seemed so much more harsh that even losing
Mamoru. Perhaps she would be better off not having anything at all.
All that much less to lose, right?

"Hey, d'ya know yer cruisin' through d' Blud's turf chickie?" came a
voice, and the grip of a rough hand on her upper right arm. The hand
wrenched her around. Suddenly she found herself staring into a pair of
large dark eyes, tasting the bad breath that came forth from the
unwashed and unshaven face before her.

"Let me go!" she snapped, tearing easily loose from his strong grip.
He growled at the insubordination, and swung an open palm at her. She
ducked easily, and struck him in the crotch. He doubled over, making a
strange gurgling noise.

'So sorry,' she said with a dark sneer, offering a mock apology. A
fist collided with her head from behind, knocking her forward into a
pile of trash.

"Gugh," she spat, wincing.

"C'mon bitch," said a voice, accompanied by a hand which grabbed her
shoulders, and pulled her up. "If ya wanna hang inna turf o' the
Bluds, then ya gotta pay da price." His free hand tore at her already
slightly torn sailor uniform, revealing the naked skin beneath.

"No!" Usagi cried, striking him with her right arm. He fell backwards
as if struck by a sledge hammer, his nose smashed against his face
like a burst liquid-filled balloon, blood pouring down eagerly from
it.

"Help!" she screamed.

"Now, now, is that any way to converse with your hosts?" inquired a
calm voice, carrying a note of eloquence and civility that the first
two had lacked.

Usagi's voice halted, uncertainty holding her. Just as that did, he
came to grasp her as well. As she became aware of this, she struggled.
Abruptly, she felt a cold pinprick at her neck, and then a weakness
pass through her body. She fell limply against him with a cry. With a
simple motion of his hand, the remainder of her suit disappeared.

"No, please, let me go!" she cried, terrified by her inability to
move. Before soon, she found herself bound, her struggles reduced to
only those vocal.

As he penetrated her, she felt not only him, but that she would lose
her mind. Through all she had survived; being captured by the
Splugorth, then the terrible violence of the escape, the loss of
Sivil... It hardly seemed to matter that they had escaped from
Atlantis, for they were separated again nearly as soon as they had
come together. He was using her to sate his own dark pleasures, the
fact that she protested and found it unpleasant was a trifling matter
in his concern. Her screams did not fail, nor change in response to
his attack of her. They bespoke her fear, her pain, and only changed
when he stopped. His pause was hardly a reprieve; for he caressed her
roughly while tears marred her cheeks.

"You, you... bastard," she muttered faintly between sobs. "L-l-let me
go... G-guh-go a-auh-away!"

"But I so enjoy your company," he laughed.

"N-no, please! Help! Help me!!" Her voice raised again into desperate
screams. After a moment, he sneered, and stood, watching the trembling
young girl, dark pleasure lighting his face.

"Pl-pluh-please!" she stammered, her pleading gaze reluctantly
querying his intense regard, which displayed clearly the intention not
so deeply concealed. She screamed again.

"Get away! Stop it!" she cried, eyes clasped tightly shut, fist
clenched so that the knuckles were white. Apparently the effects of
the stunning were short lived. She sobbed, feeling that her throat
might tear, and that she wanted to die. Anything was preferable to
this.

:Someone help me!:

A laser blast caught Usagi's rapist, incinerating his skull in a
yellow flash of light. The body dropped forward, landing on Usagi,
eliciting a drawn out scream from her.

"Will ya damn freakin' rats get away from th' lady!" demanded a small,
yet not ineffectual, voice. The dozen other Bluds fled, with the death
of their leader, and the presence of higher technology. The few had
maybe two handguns on them, and were no match against the energy
weapon the man wielded.

A pair of small rough hands pushed the heavy corpse off of Usagi.
Those same hands offered her a heavy overcoat. Tears streaming down
her cheeks, she accepted the offering.

"Domo... um, uh... thuh-thank you."

The small man brown haired man shrugged.

"N'prob. Sorry I weren't here sooner. I think maybe th' 'Doc messed up
my ears a bit when he put 'em in."

She drew her knees up to her reddened breasts, leaned her face into
her knees and cried wholeheartedly.

"Uh, I'm Garen. I guess yer a citizen, eh?"

She did not respond. Garen looked down at the dirt caked brick floor
behind heavy sunglasses.

"Well damn lady, we can't stay 'ere."

She glanced up at him for a moment, face flush and bruised. Garen
whistled.

"Man, did he ever do a number on ya."

Usagi sniffed, getting to her feet slowly, gripping the coat tightly.

"Sorry sweetie, I din' mean that," he offered. "Let's go."

"Where? Why?" she asked, looking and sounding stunned.

Garen stopped, surprised by her question.

"I dunno. It's yer call. I jus' wus thinkin' maybe you din' wanna get
raped again."

She stared at him blankly.

He swore. "Wassup wit ya? Talk!"

Suddenly unreasoningly fearful, she cried, backing away; "Just leave
me alone!" She then turned and bolted.

"Damnit. Stupid girl," Garen cursed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He then
followed her.

---

Usagi was not thinking. Why run from the man who had saved her? That
had not even occurred to her. Fear, however, had. Her leggy, overcoat
clad form sped quickly through the downsider section of Coalition
society. Her hair spilled out behind her, mussed and tangled, odango
atama undone, causing the golden blond lengths to flow as a single
mass.

Garen dashed some distance behind her, her fear driven destination
caused him to almost stop in place. They were cause enough for him to
almost forget her entirely. The new style was strange; Garen couldn't
help admiring the sleek look of the white skull motifs and bone-like
lines which followed the curves of the midnight toned armor. That, and
interest, kept him watching.

"Whoa, whoa girl," said a black armored figure as she ran blindly into
him. "Where do you think you're going?"

She stumbled backwards, eyes opening, glancing at her obstruction.
Somehow the skull motif of the old style armor did not scare her.
Perhaps it was the long lived fear of further abuse still holding her
that kept her calm.

"Um, I d-don't know..." she half muttered, tears still tracing lines
down her face.

"Okay psychic. Calm down. What's your name?"

"Tsukino Usagi," she started. Then; "huh? I'm not..."

"Wait," the first reached forward, grabbing her with a black
gauntleted hand. The other hand pushed aside the short mess of bangs
which hung over her forehead. The spiked helmeted man scrutinized her
for a moment.

"She's not marked."

She broke free easily.

"What? Marked?" She started to back away.

The first grunt turned to the second.

"No, she's not on the list," she heard the second mutter. "She's not
registered, either."

"Registered? What...?" Fear forced her to turn, and start into a run.

"Gres, grab her!" A humanoid figure appeared, grabbed her shoulders,
and held her.

"No! Leave me alone!!" she yelped.

"Damn, damn, damn," Garen whispered as he ducked low behind the mess
of garbage and makeshift box homes. He had managed to get close enough
to act if the need arose. Apparently, this girl had a knack for
trouble.

:Of all my bad luck; he sighed. At best, he was outnumbered. :Two to
one. Not counting the Dog Boys, which makes it six to one. Ah well:

His first shot caught the Dog Boy holding Usagi in the head, killing
it instantly. His second shot nicked the grunt at the shoulder,
bringing his attention to Garen. The Psi-Net grunt issued orders for
his Dog Boys to attack, just before Garen's third shot hit his helmet,
leaving a faint scorch mark.

"Ah crap, th' damn things I do..." Garen lamented as he indicated for
Usagi to run. She did so with a pair of mutant dogs on her heels.
Garen fired a few shots as he ducked into a manhole, not bothering to
close it behind him. Running furiously, he hoped he had judged Usagi's
running speed properly, along with her direction. If he timed it
correctly, he would pop up right in front of them. If not, he would
have some more running to do.

As it turned out, what he failed to take into account was his own
speed. He turned up ten feet behind them. Fortunately, his energy
pistol had a more considerable range than merely ten feet. He fired
off a few shots, killing the first, and getting the attention of the
second, which turned, ran, and leapt at him. The Dog Boy caught him,
knocking him over and sending his pistol flying from his hand.

"Just," he swore, "great!"

Usagi turned around, hearing the voice of the man who had saved her.
At first she thought to ask why he had followed her, but then it
occurred to her that she would not get any answers out of him dead.

"Moon Crystal Power - Make Up!" came her voice. It had not actually
occurred to her that she might not be able to turn into Sailor Moon
without the ginzuishou, but as colored energy flared about her, the
silver crystal appeared. Both Dog Boy and garish rouge stopped
wrestling as the flashy transformation took her, replacing the
overcoat with her Sailor uniform, and putting a golden tiara in her
self-enmeshed hair.

"Moon Tiara Action!" she called, taking the tiara awkwardly in her
left hand instead of the missing right, at which point it turned into
a nimbus of yellow energy. A formerly well practiced motion of hand,
loosely translated for the opposing one, sent the sliver of energy
toward the Dog Boy, who yelped as it struck him, knocking him from her
waylaid savior. Garen scrambled up to the literally transformed young
girl, cast an appreciative gaze over her, smiled, then gestured for
them to run.

"How'd ya do that?" he asked as they ran for their lives. "Ya really
gotta be some trippy kinda psyche or somethin'!"

"I'm Sailor Moon," she said, as if that explained everything. Had she
been back in Tokyo, it would have. As it was, it merely compiled
Garen's confusion. Consideration washed visibly over his face.

"Uh, you're some kind of warrior... I guess, right? Or, I dunno... a
Mage?" he shrugged.

'What? Um, no. Garen-san does not understand? Ah... er... damn...'

"Wassat you keep sayin'? Nani... uh... waka-wuka-sasu... uh... What is
that? Some kinda differen' language er somethin'?"

"Oh," she half-frowned. "I'm Japanese."

"'S okay. I really don' care. I just like to know what my friends 'er
sayin'."

"Friend?" her depression-shaded face lightened somewhat. "Um, thank
you. Hey... I don't even know your name!"

"It's Garen Hel'." He threw a long glance behind him. "An' yer Tsukino
Usagi, right? Uh, Usagi Tsukino, that'd be here, I mean."

"Uhn... um, I guess," she started, then paused. "Um, hai."

"Hai is 'yes', right?"

"Sure," she replied seriously.

"I think we can stop runnin' now. They ain't followin' us no more."

They slowed, and stopped.

"So do ya live here? I mean, well... naw, ya don't do ya? Ya must live
in Chi-Town."

She looked puzzled. Garen shook his head as he realized something.

"Yeah, that's right ain't it! They said ya weren't on th' damned list.
Hm... Is ya that D-Bee I been hearin' 'bout? Uh, I guess I shoulda
asked how long ya bin' here, first, but go figure I don' think of it!"

"Uh, I don't know. There are no monsters where I'm from... well, not
like that..." her voice trailed off, and she shuddered. "I haven't
been here long. I just wandered into town a couple days go."

"Y'mean th' Coals, I bet. Uh, I mean th' Coalition, right?"

"Those guys in the black armor?"

Garen nodded.

"Yeah, dem freaks what figger dey can keep us low lifers down. 'Cept
they doin' a fine job, eh?"

The solemnness drew her face into a shadow again.

"So, why is y' here, anyway? I mean, the 'burbs is a pretty crappy
place for a chick so nice lookin' as you."

"Thanks," she blushed, half-smiling. "Why did you save me, anyway?
No-one else cares like that." She clasped arm around her stomach
defensively as her eyes drifted skyward.

"Well, we ain't all creeps here. I can't stand t' see a pretty lady
like you get hurt like that. It's jus' plain wrong."

"I'm just a kid."

He peered at her.

"Ya don' seem like it, and ya sure as hell ain' lookin' like any kid I
ever knowed."

Forgiving his continuously lousy grammar, she asked:

"So what do I do now? You're the only one I know now... I just...
um..." she felt herself nearing tears again, genuine ones, in the
light of her helplessness, and sense of loss.

They had passed into a small run down open market of sorts. Many
people wandered around purchasing things, like drugs, and other
services offered by the less than respectable Black Market. Garen
glanced around. His eyes passed over a tall fellow armored in dull
grey steel with black hair, strange looking face, and a sword on his
belt. His eyes moved on. They settled on a man in a worker's suit. He
stepped up gingerly behind the fellow, and seemingly without effort,
relieved him of a straining gold purse.

The man continued chatting with his buddy idly.

As Garen approached Usagi, he noted the shocked look on her face. He
merely stated; "We make us a livin'."

---

As the months weaved forth, Usagi learned that she made a lousy thief,
and an even worse housewife. Not that Garen really cared much about
how his place looked, or that it was all that more pleasant when
clean.

Ultimately, felt she had to offer something in return for the
sanctuary he gave her. Especially after he had gone through all the
trouble of paying for a prosthetic arm to replace the left one she had
lost. She regarded him as a kind-hearted man, in a longwinded,
overbearing kind of way. She tried to repay what he had given her, and
in doing so, almost got them caught by the Black Market. Usagi quickly
learned that on their own turf, the Black Market was just as much a
force to fear as the Coalition. Garen dismissed the error, saying that
no one else had tried to give him anything, and that he appreciated
it. Even more so, he added, if she stopped.

As all attempts failed, she began to fall into depression, not eating,
and sleeping all hours of the day while Garen appeared at odd times,
in his usual efforts in daily life.

One morning she just did not get up. Fortunately, this occurred on a
day just after Garen had completed a job worth several thousand
credits. Garen was busy enjoying a portion of his spent cash, and the
accordant time earned. He noticed that she was not up, and went to
wake her. He fully expected her not to be lying in her bed, and to his
surprise, found that she was. He shook her shoulders gently. The
golden blond opened her eyes weakly.

"Heya cutie... when didja last eat?"

She glanced at him, face pale and thin, eyes uncaring and cold.

"Uh," he grunted, "not in a while, I figger. Right?"

She said nothing, her gaze turning away from him.

"So ya never answered my question, ya know that? I mean, I figgered y'
was da D-Bee 'cause ya fit the rumors," he paused, the expression of
his face soft. "I know ya is, but I was at least hopin' y'd be willin'
to talk t'me 'bout it."

"Why would you care?" she asked, face and voice straining as she
spoke.

He offered her a drink.

"Eh? An' why not? I mean, I only saved yer cute littl' butt, din't I?"
A gentle smirk crossed over his hard little face.

She nodded reluctantly, trying to sit up. Garen placed a hand on her
shoulder and assisted her. He handed her the drink, which she
accepted, and sipped at.

"Well... spill."

She coughed, and cleared her throat.

"Um... what do you know, anyway?"

"Uh," he scratched the back of his head, "a bit."

"Like..."

"Well, a buddy o' mine. We calls 'im Randy. He's been lookin' for a
chick like you. Now," he made a gesture for her to remain silent, "I
didn't say nuttin' 'cause I wasn't sure if yer it. If yer the chick.
He said blond hair, but not done up, like yers is."

"My odango atama? Um," she squinted, eyes cast to the ceiling of the
small bedroom. "'Dumpling Head', I guess, in English... er, well..."

Garen laughed loudly.

"Dumpling Head! That's funny!" He slapped his knee and continued
laughing. Usagi started to look somewhat disgruntled.

"Hey..."

Garen tried to pull himself together.

"I's sorry, but that wus too funny, Bunny," he smirked.

She smiled at the usage of the nickname. It made her feel a little
easier about her losses, having some kind of friendship, if even in
the smallest degree.

"Ha!" he barked triumphantly. "Ya smiled! See? Ya can't stay in a bad
moody Bunny... it jus' don' work wit ya look."

"Moody," she laughed. "Thanks Garen."

"N'prob," he nodded. "So... 'bout yo friends. Randy wants ta meet ya.
If ya thinks that's fine, eh? He says he knows somethin' 'bout yo
other friend, right?" He shrugged. "'Cept it's up t' you."

"Do you trust him? Do you think he'd lie to me?"

Garen's face hardened seriously.

"He ain' never lied t' me. He ain' got no dirt on him, and cutie, I
know a lotta frickin' dirt. The Black Market hates 'im. He's a good
guy. I'd trust him wit' m' life."

"I get the point, Gi.'

He mock frowned.

"Gi? D'ya gotta call me 'Gi'?"

Usagi giggled.

"Hai! It's fun. Gi, gi, gi, gi!" she chanted.

Garen stuck out his tongue at her. She returned the favor.

"So, is ya hungry? I got a whole plate o' sugary junk 'n stuff sittin'
out there..." He got to his feet. "I mean, I could always try t'
finish it by m'self..."

"You wouldn't!" Usagi said, sounding shocked. She jumped out of the
bed with such energy that Garen stumbled backwards in surprise.

"Well, that'll be fer afta ya have some greens. Ya look like th' dead,
Bunny."

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Listen... you gotta get better. Right? I'm just doin' cause I care.
Y'know?"

"It's just... you sound like my Mom."

"I never much figgered m'self for par'nthood, but sho'. I like ya." He
grinned, "Besides, it'll be a coupl'a days befo' I can arrange a
meetin' wit' Randy... so that gives ya time ta get better. Right?
C'mon."

She sighed.

"Hai, I guess." She grinned, then - with a wink - said; 'Baka.'

"No more'n you... Bakayaro!" he replied, mangling the Japanese accents
badly.

'So desu ka? Tsuyaku ga imasu ka?' she laughed, continuing the joke
with: 'Baka no sugoi. Gi, baka-goofball Gi!' she chanted, running down
the short hall.

"I really need t' get me that dang translator implant," he groaned,
and proceeded slowly after her.

---

"Gi, I don't how much I can trust Randy," Usagi informed him, eyes
casting about warily as they walked through the night darkened streets
of the 'burbs.

Garen merely shrugged, "I guess not. That's up t' you. I'm jus' sayin'
he ain't never hurt me, an' never lied t' me, not once. So..."

"But that's your experience with him, not mine. If I decide I don't
like him, I'll leave. I'll turn my back and tell him where to go and
how to get there."

Garen gazed at her, somewhat surprised by the direct nature of the
words which seemed to flow so easily from her mouth.

"Yeah, well... that's up t' you Bunny. I ain't gonna force ya, I'm
jus' tryin' t' help."

Usagi gave him a steady look. The colour of her face had deepened, and
the sickly thin look had faded. Garen had been mistaken. It had taken
more than a couple of days to arrange the meeting. It was just as
well, he figured. It had taken her more than two days to get better.
The operation she had undergone was still having adverse effects on
her body. Apparently it was a serious strain for her.

Garen knew that all too well, however. Usagi's eyebrows knitted in
concern.

"I know, Gi. I really appreciate it." She glanced away. "I guess we'll
just have to see how it goes."

They continued on for a while in silence, until Usagi felt something.
It was like a sliver of the NegaForces' evil had reached her somehow.
She could feel some kind of infamy nearby. Like the Splugorth. She
shuddered.

:Let's not go there; she thought. :Those Slug-orths are the last thing
I need to think about right now:

Garen noticed the tension on her face.

"Heya... is somethin' wrong dere Bunny?"

She gazed over at him briefly.

"I dunno. I'm just feeling something... it's... like, evil."

"Well, we's here. I dunno know if, well... Uh. Nevermind. I don'
matter," he shrugged. Pushing open a haggard looking door, he gestured
for her to enter. With all the hesitance of a scared mouse, she did.

Inside, the building was more immaculate than anything she had seen
since her bedroom after a quick tidy by her Mom. The sense of evil
became steadily stronger. Slowly, she began to feel his gaze upon her.
She squinted. In the darkness sat a man with black and gold streaked
hair. His eyes glinted a curious tan colour.

"Garen, would you be so kind to leave us?" he asked, his voice
strangely comforting.

"No!" Usagi snapped. "No. Whatever you can tell me you can tell him.
Tell me why you wanted to see me."

Garen balked, beginning to wonder if this was the same mousy female
who's life he had saved.

"Do you trust him that much?"

She nodded, her expression firm. "A heckuva lot more than I trust
you."

'Hai, then, Tsukino Usagi,' he continued, in fluent Japanese. 'Where
is Hino Rei?'

'What are you talking about? I haven't seen her since the explosion
back in Japan!' Usagi replied, looking shocked, and hurt.

Garen sighed, and took a seat.

:May's well get used t' not knowin' much; he thought in resignation.
:I only saved 'er life 'n all that crap:

The fellow gazed over at Garen suddenly, his expression soft.

"Nonsense, my friend. As a matter of fact, I think I might have a task
for you."

"Yea? Erm... like what?" Garen asked, standing.

"Like helping Usagi here find her other friends."

Usagi growled unpleasantly.

"Give me one good," she swore harshly, "reason to trust you," she
snarled, eyes squinted angrily.

He stood.

"I represent someone who has a sharp interest in your lives."

Usagi backed away as he approached her. It was him, he was the source
of the evil. He reeked so strongly of it. She was torn. The idea of
being reunited with the others was an offer she found so difficult to
turn down. This man, however, nigh literally smelled of evil that
reminded her of every pain this realm had introduced into her life,
and of the NegaVerse back home.

:I'm not going to take another chance, not even for the other senshi:
Without a word, she turned, and began to leave.

"Usagi, wait."

She turned, eyes narrowed sharply, face drawn in an angry scowl.

"I'm sorry, Usagi, that I can't hide that from you. It is my nature,
but not my intent," he offered in unaffected tones. "I can't control
that. And please, don't mistrust Garen because of me."

Usagi left, leaving the space for her reply empty as the depths her
heart had fallen to. Garen shook his head.

"Huh," he grunted. "Ya think she's it?"

The black haired man nodded self-assuredly.

"There's no question of it. Help her find her friends. She will die if
you do not."

Garen's eyes widened.

"Ya ain't foolin, is ya?"

"No," was his simple reply. Garen shrugged, and left. Outside, Usagi
had curled into a ball on the ground, and was sobbing into her arms.
Garen knelt down next to her, and put a hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry," he heard her mutter as she cried. "I couldn't."

"'S okay Bunny..." he touched her shoulder, and let her wrap her arms
about him.