I have a message from another time...

                      Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                                presents

                 Undocumented Features Future Imperfect
                 THE ORDER OF THE ROSE: A DUELIST OPERA

                            Out of the Blue

                          Benjamin D. Hutchins
                            Philip J. Moyer
                            with Anne Cross

                 (c) 2007 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


                      FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2410
                       771 EAST CHRISTIE AVENUE
                        NEW AVALON, ZETA CYGNI

        A brisk wind blowing in off Lake Daniels was lashing snow
against the street windows of the three-story townhouse at 771 East
Christie.  In the front room, Kaitlyn Hutchins was curled up on a
divan, a book of blank music staves propped up on one knee, doodling
with a theme she'd had in mind when she woke up that morning.  From
time to time, whenever a particularly fierce gust of wind blew a
particularly sharp-edged-sounding clutch of sleety snow against the
window, she'd glance up and tut at the vileness of the weather.  It
was a good thing, she thought, that she didn't live far from Harkness
Street High School.  She believed in harsh-condition training as much
as the next kenjutsu sensei, but making her student walk more than a
block or two home from school in -this- mess would just be inhumane.
        As she thought this, the doorbell rang.  Kate glanced at the
grandfather clock in the corner of the room, but no - it wasn't even
two in the afternoon.  School wouldn't let out for more than an hour,
and then there was a class meeting after that - Juniper wouldn't be
home for hours yet.
        "I'll get it, Fritz," she called to the house's majordomo
droid, putting aside her notebook and rising from the divan as she did
so.  She went to the hall, looked through the little panel of one-way
glass in the front door, then made a surprised sound and yanked open
the door.
        "Utena!" she exclaimed as her best friend and former roommate
of many years ducked into the house and stomped snow from her boots.
        "Hi, Kate," Utena Tenjou replied, shaking snow and ice pellets
from her fedora before hanging it on a peg by the door.  "I don't know
if you've noticed, but it's crappy out."
        Kate shut the door behind Utena, waited for her to shrug out
of her overcoat and hang it next to her hat, then gave her a hug and
asked, "What are you doing here?"
        "I'm hiding," Utena replied matter-of-factly.
        Kate gave her a puzzled look.  "... Hiding?"
        Utena nodded grimly.  "Hiding," she said.  "From my wife.  And
my fiance.  And his mother.  And her sister.  All of whom seem bent on
driving me -batshit- by the -end of the week-!" she finished, throwing
her hands up, a vaguely demented look creeping into her eyes.
        "... Come in and have a drink," Kate said after a moment.

        A few minutes later, they were comfortably ensconced in the
front room with mugs of Fritz's hot cocoa, which went a long way
toward making Utena forget about her wet hair and generally
disconcerted state.  She stretched out on the sofa with her feet
toward the crackling fire while her socks hung over the couch arm to
dry, wriggled her toes, and sighed.
        "So much better," she said, letting her head fall back onto
the other arm of the couch.  With one hand she held her mug of cocoa
balanced on her flat stomach; with the other she reached down beside
her and played idly with the ears of Kate's pet tiger Sergei, who
lounged magnificently next to the sofa.
        Kate took a sip of her cocoa, set it down on the side table
next to her divan, smiled mischievously, and asked,
        "They're -all- driving you crazy?"
        "God.  You have -no- idea," Utena replied.  "I was better off
trying to do it all myself."

/--
                           TWO DAYS EARLIER

        Utena threw down her pencil in disgust.
        "Argh.  Why did I ever agree to get married again?"
        Anthy looked up from her book with a puzzled expression.
"Agree?  Darling, it was your -idea-."
        "Well, why didn't somebody -stop- me?" Utena asked
rhetorically, shoving a hand back through her feathery pink hair.
        "Why?" Anthy inquired mildly, adding with a wry smile, "It
worked out all right last time."
        "Last time all I had to do was show up!"  Utena gestured
feebly at the disordered array of papers and forms scattered before
her on their dining room table.  "How the hell do I know how many
shrimp cocktails we'll need?  I'm not a freakin' restaurant manager."
        "Utena, the only thing stopping you from asking Verthandi's
help this time is your pride," said Anthy with carefully restrained
amusement.  "You know she'd have a fine time organizing her nephew's
wedding."
        Utena rolled her eyes.  "Your sympathy is overwhelming,
Himemiya."
        "I'm sympathetic, love, but I'm also practical.  You're not
having any fun with this, why don't you ask someone who -would-?"
--/

        "So I did, and I figured that'd be the end of it, but no.  No,
now it's 100 times more annoying, because I'm still doing just as much
-work-, but now I have no -control-.  At least when I was trying to do
it all myself, I wasn't constantly getting pushed around and 'asked'
about things.  'Utena, what do you think of this cake design?'
'Utena, you have to try this on.'  'Utena, have you finished the
invitation list yet?'"  She made an exasperated gesture with her free
hand, careful not to spill her cocoa, then went back to playing with
Serge's ears.
         "Well," Kate said diplomatically, "it's nice that they want
your input."
        "Don't you believe it," Utena said with a dismissive wave.
"This is all -them- now.  I'm just a prop in their stage show.  I
don't know how Corwin puts up with it.  God.  We should just run away
to New Las Vegas and get married in the Thunder Force Experience or
something."
        With a soft "tch" sound, Kaitlyn patted her friend and former
roommate's shoulder.  "You'll get through it, Utena... one way or
another.  You always have before."  She gave her a one-armed hug, so
as not to disturb their respective cocoa mugs or Utena's ministrations
to Sergei.
        "Yeah, I know," Utena admitted, tilting her head back to let
her pink hair cascade over the end of the couch.  "That doesn't make
it any less maddening to -go through-."
        A brief fey expression touched Kate's eyes.  "Well, if you
like, I could call Marty and Aunt Eiko and they could shuttle you to
New Las Vegas... "
        Utena glanced sidelong at her friend.  "God, I'm -almost- 
tempted to take you up on that, Kate," she replied, but before she
could give the matter her further attention, Serge's ears perked
upwards, swivelling towards the front hall.  "... eh?"
        Kaitlyn's eyebrows went up, at about the same time, and she
started to get up from her seat.  "Funny, I wasn't expecting her home
-now-... "
        "Huh?  Nah, I'll get it, Kate," Utena replied as she got up
instead, following Serge to the front door.  "Gives me -something- to
do that isn't wedding-related... "
        She was just about to look through the one-way pane of glass
in the door to see who was out there when the door opened of its own
accord -
        - revealing a rather surprised-looking Juri Arisugawa, clad in
a sleekly-cut woolen overcoat, her cheeks pink with the cold from
outside, the customary French curls in her orange hair partially
uncoiled with a dusting of snow and ice pellets where her pillbox hat
hadn't covered them.
        The two women looked at each other, each experiencing an
uncanny moment of shared deja-vu.
        Utena was the one who spoke first.  "-Juri-?  What are you 
doing here?"
        Juri blinked, simply replied, "I -live- here, Utena," before 
blinking again and going on, "What are -you- doing here?"
        "Visiting Kate.  And, uh, hiding."
        "Ah," Juri responded, still standing in the open doorway.  She
was just about to ask for further clarification when Serge somehow
managed to work his way through one side of the doorway, prowl into
the accumulating snow on the front steps, and shoulder the elder
Duelist into the house proper.  After all, Juri Arisugawa and Utena
Tenjou, while both fine human beings, were not Siberian tigers.  Some
times, a lifeform just had to take matters into his own paws.

        The mild commotion at the front door commanded Kate's
attention, and she entered the hallway just in time to see Juri and
Utena, somewhat mildly entangled alongside the hall wall as Serge
nosed the door shut, cutting off the foul weather from outdoors.  A
small snowdrift had managed to enter in the interim, covering parts of
the front rug, Juri and Utena's footwear, and a briefcase and small
paper sack that had fallen from Juri's hands as she had been
'escorted' in.
        Katitlyn's eybrows went up, and she glanced at the two
duelists with a quietly amused expression.  Then she took in Juri's
state a little more critically and tched.  "Juri, dear, what are -you-
doing home so early?  You look a -fright-..."  She gently disentangled
the two pinkening women, removed Juri's hat, and started to brush off
the snow from her shoulders.
        Juri, looking uncommonly sheepish (at least to Utena's eyes),
replied, "Things were getting a little too rarefied at work today, and
most of my day's major tasks were done, so I decided to come home
-before- the afternoon commuter rush."
        "Why didn't you just have somebody fly you home?  Especially
in this weather?" Utena finally asked, now that they were separated
and her short-term memory buffer was re-filled with the salient
details of Juri's current life state.  "I thought you bigwig corporate
types could do stuff like that," she continued with a slowly growing
smile.
        "Well, -yes-," Juri admitted, before she coughed and shrugged
off her overcoat, which Kate nimbly caught and hung on another wall
peg.  "But I took the N today.  it didn't -look- that bad from the
office window..."
        Kaitlyn shook her head, and made another tut-tutting sound.
"Juri, your office is on the 180th floor.  Of -course- the weather at
street level didn't look too bad from up there.  I'm surprised you
could even -see- the street from up there today."  She took Juri's
hands and warmed them with her own; even with the gloves that Juri had
been wearing, the fingers were still cool to the touch.  "Come on, sit
by the fire, and get yourself warmed up before you catch something."
        "All right..." Juri replied, keeping hold of Kate's hands and
being willingly led towards the front room (much to Utena's
amusement).  She hesitated briefly at the threshold, and tried to look
over her shoulder.  "I'm afraid that the turnovers I picked up at RGB
got cold on the walk from Strangefate Station..."
        Utena glanced back at the front hallway.  "Um, I don't think 
you'll have to worry about that, Juri."
        "Why is that?"
        "Serge seems to have eaten them."
        Kate and Juri turned to see Sergei's face just lifting out of
the opened paper bag with an Entire State Building logo emblazoned on
it.  A smear of jelly was on the tip of his nose, which he expertly
cleaned with a flick of his tongue.
        "Sergei!" Kate exclaimed, darting to the bag.  Picking it up,
she looked inside, then looked over her shoulder at Juri.  "How many
did you get?"
        "Five," Juri replied.
        Kate gave Serge a scowl.  "No treats for you tonight.  You
just had yours."
        Serge sighed - what was a tiger supposed to do when people
left food lying around, let it go to waste? - and harrumped back into
the front room.  Kate, trying her best to hide a smile, followed,
handing the bag to Juri.  To Juri's mild surprise, it still contained
four pastries.
        "... well," Juri finally said, nonplussed.  "I suppose I should 
have expected that."
        Utena quirked a pink eyebrow, and then peered speculatively
into the bag as well.  "What kind of turnovers?"
        "Bluapple," Juri replied.
        Utena got a twinkle in her eyes, and took the bag from Juri
with an indulgent smile.  "Tell you what, Juri... you go into the 
front room and let Kate take care of you, and I'll be back in a few."
        "All right, Utena... if you insist," Juri aquiesced, but with
a smile that showed that it was certainly no imposition.
        Humming to herself, and feeling a touch lighter for the doing
of it, Utena headed to the kitchen.

        Ten minutes later, Utena returned as promised.  She carried a
tray of reheated bluapple turnovers, each one now dusted with a light
sheen of brown powder and accompanied with a small glass of blue-tinted
cider.
        She smiled at the sight before her as she entered the room.  
Reclined along the length of the couch like some Greek goddess in 
repose was Juri, her head and shoulders being supported at one end
by Kaitlyn, who was slowly drying and untangling her lover's hair
with a hairbrush.
        "All these years, Juri, and I've never figured out how
the hell you've managed to get your hair up -every single day-
in those curls of yours," Utena observed.
        "Ancient Gaulish secret," Juri replied with an impish smile,
which Kate returned.
        "What she means is, she has a staff of experts to help her
every step of the way," Kate added with a wink.
        "So I see."  Utena grinned, set down the tray on the table
next to the two women, and now took Kate's former place on the divan.
"Well hey, dig in, they won't stay warm forever..."
        Kaitlyn and Juri thanked Utena as they reached over to take
the proffered turnovers, they each took a bite, and then their 
eyebrows went up in unison.  Utena had to supress a desire to 
snicker at the sight.
        "This is... not bad at all, Utena," Juri finally said with
appreciation in her voice.  "The bakers at RGB are quite good, but you
seem to have elevated their turnovers to another level.  What did you
do to them?"
        "Dusted them with nutmeg and cinnamon," Utena replied, 
sitting back on the divan with her own turnover on a napkin.  "I 
found out long ago it goes well with bluapples... brings out the 
flavor more."  She lifted the pastry to her mouth to take a bite,
but then stopped as she felt the furry weight of Sergei's head
settle in her lap.
        "Grm?" said the tiger, looking up at Utena (and her turnover)
with bright tiger eyes.
        "Nuh-uh," Utena gently admonished Serge with a tap on the
nose.  "You didn't want to wait, so you don't get the special
edition."
        Kate muffled a snicker, hiding an indulgent grin with her
free hand, before directing her attention to her own turnover.
         The three women consumed their turnovers and cider in a
companionable state, warmed by the library's fireplace and each
other's company. They exchanged small talk, catching up with each
other's lives as they relaxed, walled off from the rest of the world
by the continuing snowstorm as much as the townhouse.
        Kate finished with her turnover first, and resumed working on
Juri's hair, drying and untangling the last of the gold-red locks
before putting them into an approximation of their usual French curls.
Juri didn't appear to mind that the effort was incomplete; she just
smiled softly up at Kaitlyn before sitting up fully and favoring the
composer with a quick, heartfelt kiss, getting a slight blush and kiss
in return.
        How things change, Utena mused privately, watching the two of
them.  Time was, the two of them wouldn't even have -hinted- at making
out where anyone might see them, and -now-...
        She shook her head in quiet wonderment and settled back in
Kate's divan, one hand toying with Sergei's ears and fur while the
other took care of her warm drink.
        Juri finished eating the remains of her bluapple turnover, then
cleaned off her fingers and lips with her napkin before folding it and
setting it aside. Serge looked as if he was disappointed that the
elegant redhead hadn't left any food remaining on her fingertips to
clean off with his tongue, but otherwise didn't comment. Instead, he
just continued to submit to Utena's ministrations, patiently awaiting
his next chance.
        Juri sipped more of her cider and looked thoughtfully at the
two of them.  Finally she spoke up, addressing their guest.
        "Utena, since you're here... May I ask your opinion of
something?"
        Utena directed a sidelong glance at Juri as she sipped her
bluapple cider.
        "Mm?  Yeah, Juri?" she replied with a quirked eyebrow, an
expression more often seen on the older Duelist than herself.  Kaitlyn
observed this with quiet bemusement before returning to the divan to
pick up where she had left off with her earlier musical musings. This
meant that Utena needed to move to the edge of the divan to continue
sitting on it, but neither woman seemed to mind.
        Juri gazed into the bottom of her glass for a few seconds,
then looked up again, regarding the pink-haired Duelist.  "I'm faced
with something of a conundrum," she said, setting her glass aside and
lacing her fingers together.  "One of my first duties with GENOM has
been to revitalize a project which was not meeting its initial
commitments and at risk of being re-awarded to another corporation.
While I was successful at preventing this outcome, much to the chagrin
of other companies, such as Frost Enterprises... " Juri smiled
briefly, then her expression turned serious once more. "... I now find
myself faced with the fact that I'm... a bit fuzzy on the particulars
of aerospace fighters and the needs of their pilots.  This is
something of a handicap when one's company is developing a new
starfighter for the IPO's Jedi Order."
        Utena blinked, sitting up straight, clearly surprised by this
news. "A specialized Jedi -starfighter-?" she inquired, blue eyes
widening.
        Juri calmly nodded.  "Mm-hm.  Which was why I thought of you
when I considered this matter."  She watched Utena for further
reactions, though given the tomboy's hobbies and experiences, she
wasn't too surprised that Utena was now giving her full attention as
Juri continued her explanation.  "Retaining the contract was a
refreshing exercise of my business skills," she said with a wry grin,
"and nicely affirmed all the effort I put into my degree, but neither 
that nor managing Kate's band has quite prepared me for understanding
the needs of pilots and Jedi in space combat."
        Utena chuckled.  "I've never noticed that my formal schooling
had much of anything to do with my job either," she admitted as she
set her cider glass aside.  "But sure, I'd be glad to help.  What do
you need?  I mean, presumably you've got engineers to handle the, you
know, -aeronautical- aspects of the project, right?  They're not
expecting you to -design- the thing?"
        Juri chuckled.  "No, no," she said.  "But as project manager,
I'll be doing a lot of liaison work with the client, and it's
important that I understand how they approach the task they'll be
using our product for, insofar as I can.  I thought you might
recommend some suitable reading material that I can review on my own
time," she said, and then added with a quirked smile, "I'm certain
you'll add in your two credits as to what else I may need to
consider."
        "All right, all right."  Utena rolled her eyes, but smiled,
conceding the point. Her expression then turned thoughtful, as she
tapped a knuckle against her teeth.  "Books, books... hmm.  I've got
some copies of my own of things Corwin and Dad've recommended, but
they're all back on Tomodachi.  -Buuuut-...." She got up off the edge
of the divan and headed over to the book-laden shelves of the house's
living room and adjoining library.  "Some of that stuff got mixed in
with Kate's books when she moved over here.  At least I hope it did,
'cause I can't find it anywhere at home."
        Juri looked curiously at Utena, then stood up and followed her
to the shelves.  Utena was now leaning over, rapidly checking the
spines of the books that were available.
        "There was one in particular..."  Utena continued checking,
then made a satisfied sound as she came to a stop at one slim volume.
"Oh, good, it -is- here.  Kozue didn't abscond with it when she ran
away to join the flying circus."  She pulled the book from the shelf
and stood up, turning around to present the book.  "Here, this should
help, Juri.  It's a good beginning primer... "
        Juri accepted the book. glancing over the trade dress.  There
was something -familiar- about the style of the book, and when she
looked at the cover and the title page, it became obvious where she
had seen its kind before:

                   SO YOU WANT TO BE A SPACE COWBOY
                   A Guide to Starfighter Piloting
                         Lt. Derek Bacon, WDF
               (with Cmdr. Benjamin "Gryphon" Hutchins
             and Lt. Cmdr. Maximilian "Genius" Sterling)
                    Wedge Defense Force Press 2089

        Juri's eyebrows went up, and she nodded in approval.  "Yes, I
think this should be -very- helpful," she replied, even as she
reviewed the ad copy on the back of the book.  Unbidden, a memory
surfaced from the depths, and a fond smile crossed Juri's features.
She remembered very well the first Bacon book she had read, which had
coincidentally been the day she had first met Kaitlyn Hutchins...
        "Thank you, Utena," she finally added.
        "No prob," Utena answered offhandedly with a smile. "And
hm... as for the Jedi angle... "  She got another thoughtful expression
and resumed studying the book spines on the shelves.  "I know Dad has
some scrolls and notebooks on the Asagiri Katsujinkenryuu's Force
aspects, but that's probably a bit too high-order for your needs.
You're not looking for instruction in -manipulating- the Force, after
all.  Kate's got some stuff too, but again, a little bit overkill."
        Juri directed a brief glance at Kaitlyn, who looked up and
shrugged, somewhat sheepishly, as if to say, "Well, if you'd -told
me-, I'd have checked the shelves -myself-..."
        Juri smiled and nodded reassuringly, showing it wasn't a
bother.  Kate smiled back, relieved, and went back to her musical
ponderings.
        "OH!  Here, this'll help -lots-."  With a brisk, satisfied
motion, Utena pulled a somewhat thicker paperback volume out of the
bookshelf.  She held it over her shoulder, and Juri took the book in
her free hand.  The taller Duelist studied the cover as Utena stood up
and turned around.

                      MYTHBUSTING THE JEDI ORDER
                          Jamie Hyneman, OJK

        Juri directed an arched eyebrow at Utena.
        Now it was Utena's turn to wear a sheepish look, as she
provided an explanation.  "It was kinda a peace offering from Bastila,
after she started working with Master Hyneman at M5."  She scratched
the back of her head, then lowered her arm and looked down at the
book.  "It's actually pretty good - if I'd read -that- before meeting
her, we probably would've gotten off to a better start."  Utena
paused, and then went on, "Though she would've insisted I head to
Alderaan right off, -anyway-."  She grinned.
        "Ah." Juri nodded. "Well, I think these should get me started
nicely.  Thank you, Utena."
        "You're welcome," Utena replied with a nod, and together, the
two of them returned to the living room proper.  Kaitlyn nodded in
acknowledgement of their arrival and then went back to her work.  Her
neotiger proceeded to the couch in order to receive scritches from
whoever chose to sit there.
        As they settled down in their chosen seats (Juri making
herself comfortable in the room's armchair; Utena back on the couch
with Sergei), Utena had a sudden thought.  There had been something
about the redhead's behavior that day that had been nagging at her,
and it was only now that the realization had crystallized.
        One hand behind Serge's ears, Utena turned her head to look at
Juri, who had already opened Derek Bacon's book.  "Hey, Juri?"
        Juri paused briefly, having only reached the introduction, and
glanced over at the younger woman.  "Mm?  Yes, Utena?"
        "I've been here all afternoon..." Utena said, and then
continued with a measure of surprise in her voice, "and you haven't
called me by my last name -once-."
        Juri arched one slim tangerine eyebrow, regarding Utena with
her clear green eyes. "Oh?  I'm afraid I hadn't noticed, Tenjou."  She
smiled her little piper's smile and returned to reading.
        Utena blinked and glanced over at the divan, her expression
practically begging Kaitlyn for an explanation.  Kate's reply was just
a giggle and a fey twinkle in her brown eyes behind her glasses.
        Utena rolled her eyes.  Well, clearly she wasn't going to get
an answer from -that- corner...
        With a mock put-upon sigh, she focused her attentions on
Serge.  At least -he- wouldn't be cryptic.  When it came to things like
food and scritches, Sergei was ever direct and to the point.

        The afternoon passed in a companionable quiet, aside from the
sounds of the fire and Kaitlyn's occasional humming of a theme to test
its modifications.  The sound of stamping boots in the hallway
announced the arrival of the youngest denizen of the house, and Anne's
cheerful greeting to Fritz wafted down the hall.
        "Hi Fritz - is that chili or burritos I smell?  I'm starved."
        "Good evening, Miss Anne," Fritz's German-modulated voice
replied.  "We will be having chili and corn tortillas for dinner this
evening.  Miss Kaitlyn is in the library with her guest and Miss Juri."
        "Guest, huh?"  There was a pause, and then Anne's head and
shoulders leaned around the doorway to the library, her cheeks bright
red with exposure and the hood of her winter jacket pushed back around
her shoulders.  "Hi Utena, are you staying for dinner?  Wow, you look
fried."
        "If you guys don't mind..." Utena said, glancing at Kaitlyn.
        "It is the perfect sort of day to sit by the fire and not go
anywhere," Juri observed, lowering her book.  "The weather is quite
enough to keep any sane person indoors."
        "(says the woman who walked by herself from Strangefate
Station to here while it was -sleeting-)," Utena commented in a
stage-whisper.
        "(says the woman who came from -Tomodachi- to get away from it
all, regardless of the weather,)" Juri rejoined, sotto voce.
        "What a good thing I'm a kenjutsu student, and therefore not
sane," Anne observed, apparently ignoring Utena and Juri's byplay.
"I'm going to go shovel the front walk, sensei.  It's shifted over to
snowing proper and I nearly killed myself on the ice underneath.  The
postman might not be so lucky."
        "The mail's already come, and I don't think we're expecting
anyone else tonight, Anne," Kaitlyn observed.
        "Yeah, but I don't want to have to break that crap up in the
morning, and I'm already bundled up anyway.  And we just spent the
entire afternoon learning lots of different ways of making campfires,
but Mr. Hellboy was quite firm that I not cheat, so I'm kinda wired."
Anne vanished back around the doorway with a grin, and could be heard
putting her boots back on.
        Kaitlyn laughed and wriggled back down into the divan, and
Utena looked at her curiously.  "Campfires?" she asked.
        "Juni's going camping with a group from her school over spring
break.  Some of them haven't ever done survival training before, so
they meet after school.  I wonder how many different ways she learned
to set things on fire today."
        "You're letting her go?" Utena asked.  "I mean, that seems
like a prime opportunity for the Corps to try and snatch her, if they
find out about it.  AEGIS is pretty sure they've got agents in the
Sphere, even if they don't dare try anything in town."
        "Hellboy's going along," Kaitlyn said.  "He's the faculty
advisor for the Outing Club."
        "OK, never mind.  Even the Corps isn't -that- dumb."
        Fritz entered with a tray to collect the various dishes that
had accumulated on the end tables.  "Miss Kaitlyn, dinner should be
served in about twenty minutes," the droid reported.
        "Thank you, Fritz."

        The following day, Kaitlyn announced that she was holding
Utena hostage and would only release her upon the successful
conclusion of a diplomatic protocol requiring her to do no more than:
        1. Be available for one (1) dress fitting;
        2. Approve one (1) cake design; and
        3. Show up for the wedding seven days hence.
        In response, Skuld announced that she was not in the habit of
making deals with terrorists, and Kaitlyn could damn well keep her, a
stance that was only moderated later that afternoon following the
intervention of Belldandy.  That evening there was pie.
        "It's traditional in some cultures to share pie upon the
successful completion of a hostage negotiation," Kaitlyn explained.
        Miki Kaoru looked puzzled.  "... What cultures?"
        "Well... -my- culture.  Eat your pie!" Kaitlyn commanded.
        "Hey, it's really hard to argue with this cherry pie, guys,"
Juniper put in.  "It's so good it's distracting."

        Though technically released, Utena stayed in New Avalon for
much of the next week anyway.  It was, she explained, safer than going
home - there was much less chance that one of the parties on the
Tomodachi end of the deal would renege and drag her off to look at
china patterns or some damn thing.  Besides, she'd just have to come
back the next weekend anyway.
        Besides, she was enjoying her visit too much to leave.  It had
only recently occurred to her how much she missed living with Kate.
In the past, most of their separations had been temporary.  Not until
Kate moved back to New Avalon did it fully sink in for Utena that they
really weren't housemates any more.
        It was a surprisingly sobering realization, for all that it
should've been obvious all along.  She spent much of Thursday in a
very reflective mood, considering the twists and turns in her life and
Kate's that had brought them both to this point; then she relaxed into
the rhythms of Kate's household and just enjoyed this last stolen bit
of time before she had to square off with her new life and find a new
center point.
        
                        TUESDAY, MARCH 2, 2410
                       TENJOU ACADEMY, CEPHIRO

        Mitsuru Tsuwabuki, president of the Tenjou Academy Student
Council, was at his desk in the council office catching up on some
paperwork when the elevator dinged and delivered a couple of his
fellow Rose Duelists.  Keiko Sonoda, a senior and his vice-president,
and Kardon Felz, a fellow sophomore who held the office of secretary,
looked worried about something.
        "Hi, guys," Tsuwabuki said.  Then, noting their looks of
concern, he asked, "What's the matter?"
        Felz opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of
speaking.  He turned to Keiko, shrugging, and she thought about it for
a moment herself before saying to Tsuwabuki, "You should come see
this."
        Tsuwabuki regarded them both with puzzlement for a moment,
then put down his pen.  "All right," he said, rising.  He took his
jeweled scimitar from the peg where it hung by its strap next to his
desk, slung it across his back, and followed his comrades back into
the elevator.  Once out of the tower, they led across the campus's
sprawling central plaza, through the Quad, and up the stairs to the
Secret Forest's gate.
        "What?" he asked.  "Is someone trying to tamper with the
Forest again?  I thought we'd taken care of that."
        Keiko shook her head.  "No... it's much weirder than that.
C'mon."
        So they entered the forest and mounted the spiraling staircase
that led to the dueling platform above the clouds.  They made the
first part of the long climb in silence, but as they began to approach
the platform, Felz said,
        "Keiko and I decided to have a duel after class today."
        Keiko snorted.  "Felz wants me to do his history paper for
him.  Not happening!"
        Felz smirked.  "Yeah, we'll see about -that-.  Anyway, when we
got to the platform, well, uh... "  The trio rounded the last curve
in the staircase and passed through the archway onto the dueling
floor.  "... We found -that-," Felz finished, pointing.
        Tsuwabuki blinked, unable at first to identify what he was
seeing.  At first he thought someone had dumped a heap of rags on the
dueling floor, which would have been both inconsiderate and downright
disrespectful, but none of his Duelists would do a thing like that.
With that possibility discarded, the shape resolved itself, and
suddenly he realized that it was a -person-, mostly shrouded in
tattered loose cloth, huddled face-down near the edge of the platform.
        "What in the... " he murmured.
        "That's what I said," Keiko agreed.
        "And we figured since you're the council president and the
emergency backup mage and all, uh, you should be the one to check it
out," Felz went on.  He raked a hand back through his brown hair where
bits escaped from the queue he kept most of it in.  "Damnedest thing
-I- ever saw."
        Tsuwabuki walked across the platform and knelt next to the
crumpled shape.  Now that he was closer, he could see it was a woman -
well, girl, really, from what little he could see of her build she
seemed about Keiko's age - with the most remarkable skin tone he'd
ever seen.  Her skin was black.  Not dark brown, as the desert nomads
of Shalhara were, but actually -black-, like the night sky or volcanic
glass.  Her hair was a dull charcoal-grey color, long and wildly
disordered, as if by a stiff wind.  She lay mostly face-down, turned a
little to the left, with one slim hand flung out before her.
Tsuwabuki reached and placed his fingertips gently in the hollow of
her wrist, searching for a pulse, and was pleased when he found one.
        Searching his mind for the appropriate magic, he sat back on
his haunches and gathered his thoughts for a moment, then murmured a
few ancient words and made subtle signs with his hands.  A green glow
surrounded the girl as he wove the spell around her.  A little
distance away, Keiko and Felz watched with awe - Tsuwabuki, apprentice
to the Master Mage, was the only one of the current Cephiro Duelists
who could work outright sorcery, and they never tired of watching him
do it.
        The magic informed its master that the girl, whoever she was,
was seriously hurt - bones broken, a concussion; injuries that almost
seemed to suggest that she had fallen from a great height.  Tsuwabuki
deferred pondering that paradox - how does one -fall- to the highest
place in the world? - and delved deeper into the spell instead,
commanding the forces within him to mend the damage within her.  Magic
was easiest to do up here on the platform, and it was the work of only
a few shimmering moments to put right the worst of her hurts and
deliver her from coma to simple sleep.
        That done, Tsuwabuki wiped a thin film of sweat from his
forehead with his sleeve, reached a hand, and gingerly rolled the
unconscious girl onto her back.  Her hair fell away, revealing her
face, and he drew back in surprise.
        Her skin was so dark that the details of her face eluded the
eye at first; she appeared almost as a living silhouette until his
eyes became accustomed to looking for highlight instead of shadow to
define her features.  Then he could see that she had a sleek, delicate
beauty about her, though like the color of her skin, it was of a kind
he'd never seen before.  Too, against the darkness of her skin and her
tattered robes, it took a moment for him to realize that she was
streaked and spattered with blood.
        What really struck him, though, was the sight of her ears.
They were pointed.  He'd seen pointed ears before; one of the Rune
Knights came from a planet called Hyeruul, where everyone was
possessed of truly impressive pointed ears, and these were similar - a
little smaller, perhaps, and angled almost straight back rather than
upward, but definitely ears of a sort found on no one born in Cephiro.
        "Is... she all right?" Felz asked.
        Tsuwabuki rose to his feet and walked slowly back toward his
colleagues.  "She will be," he said.  "She was badly hurt, but I was
able to mend her.  She'll sleep for a few hours now."
        "Any idea who she is or where she came from?" Keiko asked, but
Tsuwabuki shook his head and walked past, his face deeply pensive.  He
stood for a moment by the platform's opposite edge, gazing off into
the blue sky, tapping at his chin with the ball of his thumb.
        Then he turned to Keiko and said, a little gruffly, "Clean her
up and bring her to my tower," before striding through the archway and
disappearing down the stairs without another word.
        Keiko felt proud of herself for not snorting out loud at the
young sorcerer's statement, which she restrained herself from doing
solely because he was obviously dead serious and very preoccupied.
Instead she turned to Felz and asked,
        "Think you can get her down the stairs without killing
yourself, Kard?  If you can get her to North Hall, I'll take it from
there."

                               ORIPHOS

        The Ohtori Institute, that Gothic sprawl of black stone
buildings at the center of the world, was not a school in the
traditional sense, if anything in the brand-new realm of Oriphos could
really be said to have traditional senses.  Its students did study all
the typical subjects, like history and literature (of the other
planes, for the one they inhabited now had neither), mathematics and
science; but they all knew that those topics were of secondary
importance at best.  They weren't here to learn to be stockbrokers or
scribes or scientists.  Students came to the Ohtori Institute to learn
one thing and one thing only: the way of the duelist.
        As such, what happened in the classrooms was unimportant
compared to what happened in the dueling chambers, and every student
knew it.  The school's administrators had gathered the best students
they could find from all over the Ten Worlds, brought them here and
pitted them against the instructors and each other.  Not the best and
the brightest, for the brightest would be of little use to the Order
of the Black Rose.  No, say rather the best... and the -darkest-.
They came, seduced by the promise of power and glory, or driven by
inner demons they could not tame; the reasons were unimportant.  They
came, and they fought, and sometimes they died... but those who
triumphed grew, gaining strength, learning dedication, until the day
when they were chosen to wear the black rose signet.
        Akio Ohtori stood and watched as a group of tenth-form
students - very close to the point at which they would either succeed
or wash out - performed weapon drills.  Very few students, and none
who had not already earned their signets, were considered strong or
clever enough to specialize in unusual weapons.  All of these wielded
the Order's signature weapon, the single-handed dueling saber, every
one forged cold from Muspel-iron.  They followed the orders of their
dueling master precisely, never complaining, never deviating.  They
were almost ready.  Almost perfect.
        Akio smiled coldly.
        Soon, soon, they would be ready.
        The largest of the iron bells in the black tower at the center
of campus tolled; as one, the students finished their drill, then fell
into an orderly line to rack their weapons and bow to their
instructor.  With that done, they became something like normal
students again, gathering up their things and chattering noisily among
themselves as they left the room, bound for lunch.
        Akio left the shadows from which he had observed the class
unnoticed and crossed the room toward the instructor, who stood with
his arms folded watching the last of the students leave.
        "They're impressive," he said.  "You've done well, Mikage."
        Souji Mikage shook his head.  "Impressive?  Maybe a few," he
said.  "A handful of them have got the real fire.  They may be able to
do something.  The rest are rabble - they learn the rote mechanics
readily enough, but they'll never be proper Duelists."  He brushed
imaginary lint from the sleeve of his black sorcerer's robe and fixed
Akio with a baleful, bloodshot glare.  "If you had to drag my shade
screaming back from the Abyss and bind me to your filthy service once
more, Ohtori, you might at least give me decent materials to work with."
        Akio let the wizard's scorn roll off him, knowing it was
meaningless.  "As I recall," he said lightly, "you -begged- me to
wrest you from the darkness and put you to use again."
        Mikage snorted.  "As -I- recall, you said something about
returning to Ohtori Academy so I could continue my -work-."
        "So it's in your interest to do the best job for me you can;
I'll need your students to take the place back, after all.  Tell me
about the ones you think have promise."
        "A handful, as I said, no more," Mikage said.  "Probably the
best of the lot is the girl, Leyna.  She has spirit.  And she's the
most motivated student I have.  Her humiliation at the hands of the
Midgardian burns within her.  She lusts for revenge against him and
his kin."
        "Train her well and she'll have her chance," Akio said.
        "And I?  When do I get my chance?"  Mikage's composure
suddenly cracked, like a stressed mirror fracturing from side to side.
Desperation sparked in his eyes as he added plaintively, "You promised
me... "
        "Patience, Mikage," Akio said.  "You'll have your chance; we
just have to take the place back from its current occupants first."
He smiled slyly.  "I think you'll enjoy the new sorcery facility
they've built.  It's much more modern and better-equipped than the one
you burned down."
        Mikage's fists clenched.
        "You drove me to that!" he hissed.
        Akio smiled coolly.  "Justify it however you like," he said;
then, his voice and gaze hardening slightly, he added, "Just don't do
it again."
        Mikage gathered his composure with a visible effort.  "Is that
all?" he asked, trying to seem brisk.  "Surely you didn't come here
simply to observe my students at drill and mock me."
        Akio's cool smile remained.  "Indeed not.  I came to inform
you that I'm leaving the Institute for a few days, starting tomorrow.
I have business to attend to.  You will serve as acting headmaster
while I'm away.  I should be gone no more than a week."
        Mikage's dismay at this development was palpable.  A week!  A
week responsible for the entire institute.  Five days without Akio's
direct rule as buffer between himself and the rest of the rabble at
the top of the order - those armored thugs from Midgard, the loathsome
Venger.  A week with the lives of all these students in his hands...
        Akio turned to go, then paused in the doorway, turned back,
and said casually, "Do try to contain your instinct for arson this
time around, Professor.  It took my people a long time to recruit all
these students.  I really can't have you incinerating them."  Then,
with another thin smile, he left, saying as he went, "Good day,
Mikage."
        Mikage stood next to his desk and watched the Headmaster
leave, then sank into his chair, trembling, eyes wild.  Alone in his
classroom, he buried his face in his hands and shook with grief,
though if anyone had asked him what for, he couldn't have said.

                               CEPHIRO

        Tsuwabuki was at his workbench when the elevator dinged and
Keiko and Felz arrived.
        "Here you go, boss," Keiko announced as Felz carefully
deposited their new find on the yellow leather sofa by the fireplace.
"All clean, but I decided to skip the fluff and fold.  Figured you
could take care of that yourself."
        Tsuwabuki shot her a "do you work here?" look, drawing a
giggle, as he crossed the room to have a look.
        "Thanks," he said.  "You guys better clear out for now; she's
liable to be pretty disoriented when she comes to, and having a crowd
around isn't going to help any with that."
        "Well, OK, if you're sure," Felz said, eyeing their guest
dubiously.
        "Yeah, c'mon, Kard," Keiko said breezily.  "I'm sure the
Deputy Chairman can... handle... any situation that might arise.
Besides, seems to me you have a duel to lose."
        Felz grinned.  "Yeah, just keep telling yourself that," he
said as they left.
        Tsuwabuki took down a book from one of his study's many
bookshelves and sat down in an armchair opposite the sofa,
contemplating its unconscious occupant.  He saw that he'd been wrong
about her hair.  Now that Keiko had cleaned her up, it wasn't grey at
all, but snow-white, a perfect and vivid contrast to her coal-black
skin.  As she lay on the couch with her head propped on a throw
pillow, he had her in profile, which accentuated the fineness of her
features and the sharpness of her aquiline nose.  She was... the only
word Tsuwabuki could think of to describe her was -alien-, but in her
way she was quite the fairest girl he had ever seen.
        He didn't find this distracting; Mitsuru Tsuwabuki had learned
at an early age to function in the company of attractive females.
Were it otherwise, he would never have survived joining the Ohtori
Academy student council at the tender age of ten.  Now, four years
later, having studied for most of that time under Master Mage Clef, he
felt almost like a grown man in a boy's fast-maturing body.  He
wondered if this had happened to Clef as well, and if that was why the
Master Mage's power made him resemble the boy he must have been when
he began his training.
        Well, no such thing would happen to Tsuwabuki.  He was no
academic sorcerer, relying solely on spells; he was a Duelist, the
Captain of the Pillar's Guards.  He couldn't do that job if he
remained a child forever.  Indeed, he half-suspected he was growing as
fast as he was because of his need to live up to his responsibilities.
        Shaking his head, he pushed that line of thought out of his
mind.  He'd pursued it several times before, even raised it with
Master Clef, and received little but vague remarks in return.  The
master could be maddeningly close-mouthed when it suited him.  At any
rate, right now Tsuwabuki had other things to worry about... like who
this mysterious girl was, and how she came to be on the dueling
platform.
        The book he'd selected was an Asgardian one, provided by
Corwin Ravenhair's uncle Balder, Asgard's ambassador to Cephiro.  It
was a reference guide of sorts to the Nine Worlds, giving an overview
of what one might expect to find when visiting each one.  It was
hardly comprehensive - the flora and fauna of Midgard alone could fill
a whole library - but it was a decent starting point, and a book
Tsuwabuki was very familiar with.  He'd thumbed through it countless
times since it arrived, fascinated by the diversity of form, custom,
and culture to be found in the cosmos.
        It didn't take him long to find the page he wanted.  The book
practically fell open to it, so often had he paused at it in his
reading.  It was one of the many colored plates, printed on slightly
coarser paper than the pages of text, and it depicted a typical
inhabitant of one of the celestial realms.  He was still looking at
it, and re-reading the text on the facing page, when the girl on the
couch began to awaken.
        Closing the book on his finger, Tsuwabuki sat and watched with
interest, but not alarm, as she stirred, shifting uneasily in her
sleep.  Then, half-rising to a sitting position, she rubbed a forearm
across her eyes, then opened them.
        Tsuwabuki had just enough time to notice that they were the
most remarkable shade of pale blue - almost silver - before she shut
them again with a hiss of pain and recoiled in alarm, putting her arm
before her face again.
        "Aaah!" she cried, her voice a little lower than he was
expecting from so delicate-looking a girl.  "Lacantha!  Tanzat
zhakar!"
        Hell, I should've expected this, Tsuwabuki chided himself.  It
was a beautiful day at Tenjou Academy, the brilliant early spring
sunshine reflecting from the blanket of melting snow that still
covered much of the campus, and Tsuwabuki's chamber at the top of the
White Tower, with its windows all around, was flooded with light.
        <Dumak,> he said, and darkness settled over the room as if the
sun had suddenly gone down, though it was only a little past noon.  In
moments, it was as if the brilliant sunny day had become a moonlit
night.
        The girl heard him speak, lowered her arm, and carefully
opened one eye.  It gleamed in the low silver light that was all that
remained of the sunshine.  She looked puzzled, then warily pleased, as
she opened her other eye and regarded him curiously.
        "Natu varom?" she asked.
        Her curiosity turned to shock, then dismay, and then outrage
as Tsuwabuki darted across the space between them and suddenly,
without warning or preamble, kissed her - and quite forcefully too.
        He had quick reflexes, but hers were even quicker, and part of
her instinctive slap connected as he ducked back and resumed his chair.
        "Fool!" she snapped.  "I don't know where you come from, but
in my homeland that's -not- something people do when they've just
met."
        "My apologies," Tsuwabuki replied, thankful that the darkness
in the room obscured the furious blush he felt on his face.  (It would
only occur to him later that she could see it plainly anyway.)  "The
sage who wrote that spell must have had an abominable sense of humor.
Why else would he have named it 'Meeting of Tongues'?"  He sighed.
"Magic can be such a literal art."
        The girl blinked.  "Magic?  You're a sorcerer?"  She tilted
her head.  "But you're only a boy."
        Tsuwabuki smiled, standing, and bowed to her.
        "My name is Mitsuru Tsuwabuki.  I am apprentice to Master Mage
Clef, and I am at your service," he said.  Then, resuming his seat, he
asked as non-threateningly as he could, "How does a svartelf come to
be in Cephiro?"
        She blinked.  "Where?" she said.
        "Cephiro.  The Tenth World," Tsuwabuki elaborated.
        She gave him a baffled, skeptical look.  "There are only nine
worlds."
        "I'm afraid not," he said.  "Cephiro is the tenth; it stands
between your homeland, Svartalfheim, and Midgard, the world of man.
I'm surprised you haven't heard of it.  It's been known of in the
heavens for several years now - and we have had trouble with
svartelven raiders before."
        "I... "  She hesitated.  "I know little of worldly matters,"
she finally said.  "I have... "  She stopped suddenly, looking around
as if startled by a sound, or perhaps a memory.  "Wait," she said.
"How can I... I was... this can't be."  She got up from the chair and
went to the window, but the view of the outside world was obscured by
the shroud of darkness Tsuwabuki had called into being.  "Let me see
what's outside," she said.
        "I made it dark because the light hurt you," Tsuwabuki told
her.
        "I was surprised.  I wasn't ready.  I'll be all right now."
Turning to him, her expression pleading, she said, "Please.  -Please-
let me see where I am."
        Tsuwabuki got up and crossed to her, giving her a thoughtful
look.  Standing, she was only a little taller than he was, though she
looked several years older (and if she truly was a svartelf, that
meant she was really -decades- older).
        "All right," he said.  "Brace yourself."
        She nodded, turning to look outside, and Tsuwabuki said,
<Shirak.>
        In an instant, the darkness was gone.  The girl hissed again,
drawing back from the window and instinctively raising a hand.
Tsuwabuki was about to call the shadows back down, but she waved him
back and slowly, carefully looked outside, squinting against the
light.
        To Tsuwabuki, the view from that side of the tower was an
ordinary one, albeit beautiful: the eastern corner of the campus, the
rolling grassy hillside leading down to the town of Saitou below, and
the twinking blue expanse of Saitou Bay, with its sailboats and
two-masted ships.  He saw it every day, and though he appreciated it,
he couldn't say it took his breath away.
        The girl, on the other hand, once she could look at it at all,
stood in awe, her ebon face slack with astonishment.  It was obvious
that the light still hurt her; as she gazed out at the day, her silver
eyes watered, the tears trickling down her cheeks, and she clenched
her fists in the folds of her tattered robes in obvious pain - but
still she looked, as if transfixed by the mere sight of a sunny day.
        She looked for as long as she could stand it, then tore
herself away and walked out of the light, back into the slightly
shadier area in the middle of the room.  She seemed to find this
tolerable.
        "I have never heard of your world before," she said, "but I
think I believe what you say.  Surely it's nowhere I've ever been
before.  But... how did I get here?  How did you find me?"
        "I think that's a mystery we may have to tackle together,"
Tsuwabuki said wryly.  "What's your name?"
        She blinked, as if just realizing that she hadn't told him.
Then, collecting her dignity, she made a slight obeisance to him and
said, "Well met, mage's apprentice.  My name is Anaximandra.  I am the
seventh daughter of Drax, third clan of the House of Wethrin'goroth."
Then, looking ambivalent, she added, "Or at least I was.  Now I am not
much of anything."
        Tsuwabuki went back to his chair and sat down, steepling his
fingertips.
        "I think," he said as she returned to the couch, "you had
better tell me about it."

                       WEDNESDAY, MARCH 3, 2410
                        NEKOMIKOKA, TOMODACHI

        Unlike Utena, who had fled clear to New Avalon to escape the
madness of the wedding plans, Corwin Ravenhair had taken a simpler
evasive route.  He had sought refuge from the storm not outside the
solar system, but within a shell of practical considerations.  Let his
mother and aunts and Anthy fret over the details of the wedding if
they liked; he was more concerned with what happened afterward.
        Well, not -immediately- afterward.  He had a pretty good idea
what that was going to entail.  But once the celebrations and whatnot
were over, there were going to be things to do.  Between the troubles
in Asgard that began the previous summer, the sudden and unexpected
realignment that followed his return to Midgard, and the - ye gods! -
impending birth of his child, Corwin's life had been uncomfortably in
flux for the better part of a year, and he wasn't alone.  The Tenjous
and Kaitlyn had had no better a time of it, riding out the rest of the
much-battered summer tour and then finding that life was reluctant to
slip back into its accustomed patterns afterward.
        He was up a tree, of all places, doodling geometric patterns
on a sketch pad and considering all this, when he heard a rustling
from below.
        Ah, hell, who wants what now? he thought, but a moment later
someone he wasn't expecting clambered up from below.
        "Ugh," said Hiroshi Morisato as he heaved himself up onto a
stout branch not far from Corwin's perch.  "I thought I might find you
up here.  Phew!" he added, wiping sweat from his forehead with one
arm.  "Did you have to climb this far up?  It's not like most of the
people who'd be looking for you can't fly anyway."
        Corwin had to admit his cousin had a point.
        "Did Aunt Bell send you looking for me?  Whatever it is, I'm
not getting in the middle of it.  I already told Urd, one more hassle
out of either one of them and I swear we'll elope."
        Hiroshi chuckled.  "No, I think they actually took you
seriously.  I just figured you might want some company that -isn't-
obsessed with your impending nuptials.  When you left the temple you
had that preoccupied look.  What's on your mind?"
        Corwin gave Hiroshi a thoughtful look for a second, then
sighed.  "I'm not sure.  I feel... strange."  He blew out a breath.
"Something's going to happen, I think, but I don't know what."
        Hiroshi looked interested.  "You had a vision?" he asked, but
Corwin shook his head.
        "No," Corwin said.  "Not as such.  I don't have Mom's direct
connection to the future... when I touch what might be, it's always
involuntary, usually in a dream, and so cryptic that I can hardly ever
make any use of it.  This is different.  I... I'm not really sure how
to describe it.  I'm one of the Aesir.  I can't see the future, but I
can... -feel- the heft and swing and, and -momentum- of the universe."
        Hiroshi nodded.  "I think I know what you mean.  I never
wanted to be a god like you, so I let that part of me lie, but it's
still in my blood, and sometimes... sometimes it's like I catch a
glimpse of the... I dunno how to say it, the -circuitry-."
        Corwin's eyebrows went up.  He'd known Hiroshi all his life,
but he'd never known that.  Hiroshi caught his look of surprise and
grinned slightly.
        "Might just be my imagination," he said, playing it off.  "But
I think I can imagine more or less what you're getting at.  You feel
like something's in motion that wasn't before."
        Corwin nodded, encouraged.  "Exactly.  I think... I think some
fundamental shift in the order of things is in progress, has been
since... well, since just about last June.  Everything I've seen and
experienced and discovered since then feels like part of a pattern.
My instincts tell me it's all important, all connected, but... not
-why- or -how-."  He sighed again.  "That might just be -my-
imagination, but... "  He looked Hiroshi in the eye.  "I feel like
everything's about to change... and it makes me uneasy."
        "Well," Hiroshi said, "things -are- about to change.  You're
getting married, you'll be a father soon... "  He shook his head with
a smile.  "You waited around until you graduated from high school and
then just sort of put your head down and bullrushed adulthood.  It was
a very -you- thing to do."
        Corwin laughed.  "It wasn't entirely my idea," he said.
        "Heh, no, I suppose not," Hiroshi conceded.  Then, more
seriously, he said, "You guys are leaving Tomodachi, aren't you?"
        "I'm not sure," Corwin replied.  "I've been thinking about it,
but I haven't mentioned it to anyone.  Nobody to mention it -to-,
right at the moment," he added with a rueful chuckle.  "But with Kate
back in New Avalon, and Juri and Miki, and Wakaba talking about
following them, and the child coming so soon... the Psi Corps still
skulking around, that mess with the Klingons, Utena getting involved
with the Jedi, the Sith, whatever the hell Akio is up to... "  He
glanced up at the sky.  "I feel kind of exposed here."  He gave
Hiroshi a slightly helpless look.  "Hell, I thought about trying to
get them to move back to Cephiro, at least until some of this shit
settles, but that's a bit extreme.  Even if I really wanted to go that
far, I'd never get Utena to go along with it."
        "Might not be a bad idea at that - I mean, you're not gonna
see many Sith Lords in Cephiro," Hiroshi said.  "But you're probably
right, she wouldn't go for it.  It'd be too much like running for a
bolthole."  Then he cracked a small grin.  "Well, if it makes you feel
any better about New Avalon, I'm bound there myself in a few months."
        Corwin blinked.  "You are?"
        "Yup.  End of this school year, I'm transferring to NAIS.
Professor Voroshilova thinks I ought to pursue a pure science
foundation, at least at the undergraduate level, rather than
engineering."
        "You wouldn't have persuaded her of that just to get away from
Mirai, would you?" Corwin asked.
        Hiroshi looked faintly irked.  "I love my sister," he replied
piously, "even if she -is- a fashion-obsessed airhead without even
vestigial critical faculties."
        "She'll surprise you one day," Corwin said.
        "Maybe," said Hiroshi, unconvinced.  "Anyway, I'll be around.
Living on campus, at least the first year.  Mom thinks if I get my own
place I'll just be partying all the time."  Corwin snorted.  "That's
what I said," Hiroshi agreed, "but what can you do?"
        "Mm, true that," Corwin said.  "Well, I'll keep that in mind,
anyway," he went on.  "I don't know quite what I'm going to do yet.
We have to get this damn wedding behind us before I'll even have time
to bring it up."  He smiled.  "But if we do move, it'll be nice to
know you're nearby."
        "Yeah," Hiroshi said.  "Like old times."  He looked down,
sighed, and then started working his way off his perch.  "I better get
back - umph - before they come looking for me and find you.  Take it
easy, Corwin."
        "You too, Hiroshi."  Corwin reached out a fist; Hiroshi
touched it with his own.  "And thanks."
        "Hey, what are fellow mad scientists for?" Hiroshi asked
rhetorically, and then he was gone.  Corwin listened to the branches
rustle as his cousin made his way down; then there was a crack, a
curse, a heavy thud, and a faint "'mokay!" from far below.  Corwin
smiled for a moment; then his expression went faraway again and his
marker resumed tracing the intricate pattern he had begun almost an
hour before.
        Below, Hiroshi dusted himself off and started walking back
toward the temple, hands in his pockets.  In the right one, he felt
the cool surface of a metal rectangle against his fingertips.
        Maybe I should've shown it to him, he thought; but then, No,
he's got enough on his mind right now.  Besides, it's not perfected
yet; he'll think I'm trying to get him to help me with it.  And that's
not the point at all.  I want to be able to help -him- with it, not
the other way around.

                               ORIPHOS

        Anakin Skywalker was getting a bit fed up.
        Being a young man naturally inclined toward action, Anakin had
little patience for or understanding of political maneuvering.  Oh, he
knew it when he saw it, he wasn't hopelessly naive, but he preferred
to leave it to others - preferably others he didn't have to deal with
himself.
        Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely an option at the Ohtori
Institute.  As he stalked the corridors of the training hall looking
for his master, Anakin reflected with no small inner annoyance at the
situation in which he found himself.  It seemed like everyone of any
prominence within the Order of the Black Rose had his own agenda, and
all the different factions eyed each other with mutual suspicion, not
to say loathing.
        The smooth-talking, conniving Sith Lord, Darth Venger, had a
number of acolytes among the Institute's younger students, and they
held themselves aloof from those who studied under Mikage.  The
Kiryuus, though they answered directly to Akio, were locked in a
constant antagonism of their own, bizarrely united by their hatred of
each other, and in their way they echoed the division of the Order
itself, for Touga was a student of Venger's, while Nanami followed
Mikage's path.  Only the armored warlords from Kaneko, mercenaries who
seemed to have joined Akio's cause mainly out of boredom with the
mortal world, had any real solidarity among themselves, and even
there, the faultlines were evident.
        And standing off to one side, as uninterested in Venger's dark
whisperings as he was in Mikage's arcane parables, was Kyouichi
Saionji, Anakin's master.  Saionji maintained his place in the Order
without seeking the support of either dark master through sheer force
of will, and by being so fearsome that none of the others dared to
challenge him.  Anakin felt a certain pride at that, the idea that
even men like Lord Venger and Touga Kiryuu feared his master.
        Not everyone did, though.  The warlords, for instance.  They
cared little for the internal politics of the Order, in part because
their group obviously had a pecking order of its own, and Anakin had
the distinct impression that at least one of them - that one-eyed
freak Rajura - knew, or at least suspected, that Saionji's commitment
to the Black Rose was not, shall we say, complete.  And then, of
course, there was Anubishu.  Anakin suspected him of being the most
powerful single member of the Order at the moment, and though he
feared no man, he was realist enough to rate his chances of survival
pretty low if Anubishu should ever seriously decide to take him out.
        Not that he considered that very likely.  The Masho leader
obviously had bigger fish to fry.  Anakin wasn't sure Anubishu would
even consider it worth his time to try and eliminate Saionji, let
alone his student.  Under the circumstances, the thought was not
particularly comforting.
        He looked into the next of the training rooms and saw not
Saionji, but one of the younger students, apparently putting in some
additional training time during what should've been a rare free hour.
She was slim and olive-skinned, with her black hair cut short and
swept away from her face.  She had one of the standard dueling sabers,
and Anakin could tell from the training exercise she was doing that
she was one of Mikage's students.
        Anakin stood in the door for a few moments watching her work.
She was quite young - ninth form at most, probably younger - but her
intensity was remarkable.  Though her technique wasn't perfect, it was
better than most of her peers', and she burned in the Force with a
clean black flame, the searing intensity of a soul fully focused on
some dark purpose.  Anakin wondered how someone so young could possibly 
hate so much.  Even he hadn't been so full of fury at her age.
        After a few moments, she felt his eyes on her and stopped what
she was doing.  For a moment she merely regarded him in turn.  Now
that she'd stopped moving and faced him fully, Anakin could see that
her eyes were a brown so dark they looked black, and her face would've
been pretty if it hadn't been so hard and cold.
        "You're Saionji's apprentice," she said at length.  "Skywalker.
Curious name, that.  Could be Norse.  Are you from Asgard?"
        Anakin shook his head.  "Tatooine," he replied wryly.  "And
you're one of the wizard's students, but I don't know your name."
        "Leyna," she told him.  "Leyna Tarrant."  She tilted her head
as a thought came to her.  "You're a samurai, right?"
        "Well... I will be," Anakin allowed.
        "Spar with me," Leyna said - demanded, really.
        Anakin arched an eyebrow.  "Why?" he asked.
        "Because I need to learn how to kill your kind," she replied
flatly, a hard light glittering in her dark eyes.
        He looked nonplussed for a moment, then shrugged.  "Sure, why
not," he said.  Then, regarding her iron saber, he frowned, saying,
"It'll be a short fight if I use my lightsaber against that."  He
turned and regarded the rack of weapons on the back wall of the room.
Most of the practice rooms in the training center had one, a display
of sorts featuring weapons gathered from all over the Ten Worlds by
Lord Akio's recruiters at the same time they gathered the students.
        Anakin looked the rack over, searching for something suitably
Japanese, but found nothing; this rack had a more Western theme.  He
scanned it a second time, considering his options.  It wouldn't do to
spar with an -axe-, he supposed, and that spiked metal ball suspended
on a foot-long chain from a wooden handle looked like fun, but
certainly wasn't suitable for a practice fight with a ninth-form
student.  The gladius was too short, he wouldn't have known where to
begin with a halberd, and - 
        - oo.
        Surmounting the display like a banner was the largest sword
Anakin had ever seen, barring perhaps Anubishu's no-dachi.  It was
straight, slightly tapered near the end, with a simple crossguard and
round pommel, its long grip carved from some dark wood, its blade
hidden within a matching scabbard trimmed in silver.  Curious, Anakin
took it down from its perch.  It was slightly heavier than it looked,
heavier than a steel sword of its size would have been.  Sliding it
from its scabbard, he saw that the blade was made of a slightly
opalescent metal that gleamed under the practice room's lights a deep,
near-black violet color.  It was double-edged, with deep twin fullers,
and like the scabbard its last third had a gentle taper to a point.
There was an inscription on it, etched between the fullers in silver,
but he didn't recognize the letters or the language.
        Anakin regarded the sword for a few moments, hefting it in his
metal hand.  Despite its weight, it was beautifully balanced, inviting
him to go ahead and swing it around a bit.

      /*  Tomoyasu Hotei  "Battle Without Honor or Humanity #2"
                        _Electric Samurai_  */

        This he did, slowly at first, then more quickly as he assured
himself that his strength was equal to the challenge of managing the
heavy blade.  It felt unfamiliar, unlike any of the practice weapons
he had handled with Saionji, -entirely- unlike the way a lightsaber
felt in his hands...  but also -right- in a way that he couldn't
define.
        He finished his probing mini-kata and walked to the center of
the room.
        "Ready?" he asked Leyna.
        She flourished her saber and assumed an aggressive ready
stance.
        "Try to keep that big bastard under control," she said, then
came at him.
        He blocked her easily, crossing his forearms and dipping his
greatsword low and to the side, his hands spread as wide as they could
get on the long grip.  Leyna's saber rang against the lustrous metal
with a low, clear sound, more like the sounding of a bell than the
clash of two swords.  Anakin took it easy, letting her come to him,
defending against her attacks until he had a better idea of her
strength and speed.  She was stronger than she looked, her muscles
lean but wiry, but he was, as he had expected, far stronger.  Still,
she was quick, and she was -ferocious-, and - as he'd figured when
watching her exercise - the Force was with her.
        Anakin smiled.  This might just be fun.
        He blocked her next attack, thrust her weapon aside, and
whirled into a counterattack, turning completely around to get more
power behind his blade.  He wouldn't connect with her body, he'd made
sure of that, but he wanted to see how smart she was.
        Smart enough; Leyna didn't try to parry a blow delivered with
all the might of a tall, broad-shouldered young man wielding a
six-foot greatsword.  At best, that would have gotten her jarred badly
out of position; at worst, the blow could have shattered her sword,
her wrist, or both.  Instead she dropped to the floor, letting it pass
over her, then rolled upright and sprang to the attack, looking to
capitalize on the follow-through Anakin would be forced to make after
such an extravagant blow.
        His experience told here, too; rather than try to reverse his
blade, Anakin rode the momentum through a further half-turn and
brought the sword down across his body, catching her counterattack and
turning it aside.  Leyna's teeth showed slightly, a hint of a smile
stealing across her usual battle scowl, as she conceded the engagement
and backed off to regroup.
        Anakin didn't give her time to do that; he went on the
offensive, switching his feet and trying for an overhand cut.  Leyna
again avoided the blow rather than trying to turn it, thinking he
might overbalance himself and hit the floor - and he nearly did, for
he still wasn't entirely accustomed to the weight of this weapon.
Only his uncommon strength prevented that from happening, and he was
so occupied with the task that Leyna had a clear shot at him from the
left.  She bored in, intending to smack him on the forehead with the
flat of her saber, since this was not a formal duel and he had no rose
to take -
        He thrust out his left hand, palm open, and the Force hit
Leyna like a heavy gust of wind, blunting her charge and sending her
staggering.  Her saber fell from her hand, clanging to the floor, as
she thrashed to keep her balance.
        This reversal had an entirely unexpected effect.  Anakin
figured she might be mad that he'd shown her up so thoroughly, or, if
she were game for more, that she'd retrieve her weapon and they'd
start again.
        Instead, she crumpled to her knees, face in hands, and began
sobbing.
        Anakin blinked.  Hesitantly, he went back to the wall and
collected his new sword's scabbard.  Distracted as he was by Leyna's
sudden disintegration, he didn't even think of putting the weapon back
on the wall; instead, he sheathed it and absently slung it across his
back by the attached baldric.  Then, hesitantly, he crossed to Leyna
and crouched in front of her.
        "Um... are you OK?  I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.
        Leyna continued to sob for a few moments, then seemed to
regain some of her composure; she dashed the tears from her eyes
with a sleeve, wiped her hands down her face, and sat pulling herself
together for a moment.  Anakin was surprised at the transformation in
her face.  This moment of vulnerability had wiped away the usual
harshness of her expression, revealing it as a mask.  The face beneath
was, as he had suspected, quite striking.
        "No," she finally replied, still sniffling a little.  "I'm
just so... -frustrated-!  How am I supposed to get my revenge when I
can't even beat some punk apprentice?"
        Anakin looked faintly insulted, but his curiosity overrode any
annoyance he might've felt.  "Revenge, what revenge?" he asked.
        For a second, Leyna looked like she might tell him; but then
her face closed down, turning back to a hard, ruthless mask.
        "Never mind," she said, rising to her feet.  Clearly
embarrassed by her outburst, she collected her saber, hung it up, said
coldly, "Thanks for an interesting session," and left.
        Anakin stood looking after her for a few moments, wondering
what had just happened, but before he could decide whether to go after
her or resume his search for Saionji, someone else had entered the
room.
        "Ah, Anakin, just the person I'm looking for," said Mia Ausa.
"Do you have a minute?  I need to borrow you and your lightsaber."
        "Uh... sure, why not," he said after a moment's hesitation.

                               CEPHIRO

        Tsuwabuki entered the Student Council's meeting room a few
minutes late and found everyone he'd called on waiting for him.
        The five gathered before him were his closest friends in
Cephiro, the other current members of the Order of the Rose's "home
chapter".  Seeing them, knowing that he had been chosen to lead them,
never failed to give his heart a little swell of pride, no matter what
distractions weighed on his mind.
        Members of the Order - who were also, by definition, members
of the Tenjou Academy Student Council - were set apart from their
fellows by the uniforms they wore, which were much more formal and
ornate than those worn by rank-and-file students.  Each member was
permitted a few embellishments to his or her uniform, as well, in
order to display a tad of individualism, a reflection of the diversity
that made up their combined strength.  Thus, Tsuwabuki himself wore
black-trimmed gold, a color not seen on any other student at the
Academy, to honor the memory of a lost friend.
        Keiko Sonoda was the only councilor in some time to wear a
skirt, longer and more heavily pleated than those worn by regular
female students, with her grey jacket.  She sat at the conference
table, upright and expectant, legs crossed elegantly at the knee, with
her brown hair drawn back and her dark eyes keeping her thoughts
private.  She had her katana lying on the table in front of her in its
scabbard, out of the way but ready to hand.
        Standing next to her seat, Kardon Felz sported white-edged
black, his jacket subtly cut to evoke the livery of the Knights of
Gothria, an all-but-extinct chivalrous order from his homeland in the
cold north.  At his side he wore a large and heavy sword with a grip
of spiral-carved ivory inlaid with gold, its gilded pommel crowned
with a brilliant-cut gem the color of a late-afternoon sky.  Though
members of the Order were permitted to wear their weapons at any time,
most left them in their rooms when not actually expecting a duel, but
Kardon was never without his.  When he saw that Tsuwabuki had entered,
he stopped trying to get Keiko to speculate on what the hell was going
on, grinned at his council president, and leaned back against the wall
behind Keiko, arms folded, his burly frame deceptively casual.
        Slim and swarthy Lantar ib'Zaltir, at the other end of the
table, had dressed up his white jacket with a sash of colorful silk
from his native Shalhara.  He wore regular dress pants and practical
boots, but Tsuwabuki knew that as soon as the weather turned just a
little warmer, Lantar would be back in his homeland's traditional
baggy green trousers and rope sandals.  His shalkava, a five-foot pole
topped with an axe blade that sported a spike on top and a hook on the
back, leaned against the wall behind him.  Like Kardon, he grinned at
the sight of Tsuwabuki entering.  As always, Tsuwabuki was struck by
how large and white his teeth were.
        Next to Lantar, Peregrine Took had turned her chair sideways
and was actually sitting on one of the arms with her soft-leather-shod
feet up on the other, elbows on knees.  She had to do this, as she was
only a little more than three feet tall and would barely have been
able to see over the table if she'd been sitting normally.  Her
uniform was slightly too big for her, which had nothing to do with her
small stature; it was just that the Academy's first non-Cephirean
student (if you didn't count the Pillar, who had studied there briefly
after his investiture) had little use for formal clothes and disliked
the way the council uniform fit when properly sized.  Alone among the
Duelists, she seemed to carry no weapon.
        "Well, here's himself noow," she said in her broad Westmarch
burr, raking a handful of her curly dark-blonde hair back from her
eyes as she spoke and favoring Tsuwabuki with an impish grin.  "Mebbe
we'll get tae hear wha's so important it canna wait 'til after lunch."
        "I'd be interested to learn that myself," remarked Kanae
Ohtori quietly.
        Kanae was the End of the World, the designated deputy to the
White Prince whose job was to oversee the doings of the Order of the
Rose in the Prince's absence, which was most of the time.  The others
liked to call her their token adult, and in reality she left them
mostly to themselves, confident in Tsuwabuki's ability to manage the
day-to-day affairs of the Council both as student governors and as
Duelists.  Tall, slender, green-eyed and ash-blonde, she wore a more
ornate uniform than the students, but the cut was similar, and she
wore a thin-bladed broadsword at her side.
        Tsuwabuki nodded and took his place at the head of the table.
"Well, I assume you all know by now about what Keiko and Kard found on
the dueling platform yesterday."
        "Aye, we've heard," Peregrine said.  "Is i' true?  Ye found a
night-elf?"
        Tsuwabuki nodded.  "It's true."
        "What's a svartelf doing on the dueling platform?" Kanae
asked.  "That doesn't make any sense.  She didn't come through the
Rose Gate, did she?"
        Tsuwabuki shook his head.  "No," he said.  "She's no
sorceress.  This isn't some kind of attempted invasion, like the thing
that happened in Autozam a few years ago."
        "Then how'd she get up there?" Kardon asked.
        Tsuwabuki looked from Duelist to Duelist for a moment, making
sure he had all their attention, and then said, "She fell."
        "... -Fell-?" Lantar blurted.  "From -where-?!"
        "Her homeland," Tsuwabuki said.  "I don't understand how yet -
despite the fact that Svartalfheim is 'above' the dueling floor in
some sense, it's not supposed to be possible for someone to fall from
one to the other, but there it is.  She did."
        "The crystal spheres should prevent that from happening,"
Kanae said.
        "I know," Tsuwabuki replied.  "I'm looking through my books,
trying to find out if there's any precedent for something like this
happening.  I haven't come up with anything yet, but... "  He paused,
lifting his spectacles momentarily to rub his dark-rimmed eyes.
"... there are a lot more tomes left to search.  So far I just don't
have an answer for that part of the riddle, and she's just as much in
the dark as I am - ... so to speak."
        "They say the Fallen Prince was half-svartelven," Keiko mused
thoughtfully.
        "So they do," Kardon agreed.  "Back in Gothria we have legends
about that.  They say his mother came from somewhere in the far north,
beyond Autozam... that there's a gate to another realm up there
somewhere, maybe in Ryo Zan Paku."
        Tsuwabuki sighed.  "-Everybody- has a theory about what Ryo
Zan Paku was supposed to be for," he said.  "In any event, as I said,
I'm still working on it.  What I'm concerned about right now - what I
called this meeting for - was because we need to decide what to do
about Anaximandra."
        Kanae raised an eyebrow.  "That's her name?"
        "Yes.  Anaximandra Drax."
        Peregrine raised both eyebrows.  "Drax?  As in the Clan Drax,
Third o' Wethrin'goroth?"
        Tsuwabuki looked faintly surprised.  "Well, as a matter of
fact, yes," he said.
        Peregrine bunched her face up with concern and whistled
through her teeth.  "Oooh.  Tha's bad, tha' is."
        "... Why?"
        "Wethrin'goroth is one o' the most hated houses in
Svartalfheim," she said.  "Their -name- means 'Shadow o' Dread'.  If a
people call -themselves- that, ye know they're nae what ye'd call
kindly folk.  Even the other dark elves dinna like 'em."
        "How do you know these things?" Lantar asked incredulously.
        "I read books," Peregrine replied piously.  "Or rather me
cousin Tunk does, an' then tells me wha' was in 'em," she allowed on
further reflection.  "Any road, I canna say I like the idea of a
Wethrin'goroth night-elf in these parts."
        "Then it may relieve your mind, Peri, to know that she's an
exile," Tsuwabuki said dryly.  "She was cast out.  Literally.
Apparently when the svartelves of her house declare someone beyond the
pale, they throw them down a well in the lowest level of their
underground city.  It's believed to be bottomless."
        "What did she do?" Keiko wondered.
        "I don't know.  She won't talk about it, at least not yet.
The point is, we can't send her back to her people; they'd just try
again, and maybe succeed.  I won't be a party to that."
        "This isn't going where I think it's going, is it?" Kardon
asked.
        Tsuwabuki nodded.  "Look," he said, spreading his hands.
"She's scared and in shock.  Her own people tried to kill her, day
before yesterday, and it's only through some bizarre stroke of luck we
don't understand that she survived at all.  She's got nowhere else to
go.  I think we should admit her to the Academy and look after her for
a while."
        "Are you putting this to a vote," Keiko asked with a little
smile tugging at her lips, "or just telling us what you're going to
do?"
        Tsuwabuki blushed a little with a wry smile.  "I'll put it to
a vote if I have to, but I was hoping to just find out what you
think."
        "I'm not sure I like it," Lantar said slowly.  "Loath as I am
to deny the Academy's hospitality to anyone," he added hastily, "I'd
feel better if we knew a little more about this girl before opening
the doors of the whole school to her.  Perhaps we should confine her
somewhere - Tsuwabuki's tower, for instance - until we can be more
sure of her."
        "She hasn't done anything wrong," Keiko pointed out.  "You
can't just pre-emptively lock someone up for coming from a bad part of
town."
        "I agree," Kardon said.  "Besides, with us to look after her,
she shouldn't be able to cause too much trouble, even if it turns out
that she wants to."
        "Kanae?  You're supposed to be in charge here.  What do you
think?" Keiko asked.
        Kanae looked thoughtful for a few minutes, then said, "If
Mitsuru takes responsibility... I'm not going to be one to speak out
against giving anyone an honest chance."
        "Of course I do," Tsuwabuki said.  "It's my idea, after all."
        "Then I guess the ayes have it," Kardon said.  "Next question
is, what are we gonna -do- with her?  I don't think it'd be the best
idea to just toss her into the Res Life housing pool... "
        "We could send word to Prince Tenjou, ask if we can put her in
East Hall," Keiko suggested.
        "Or, though I don't hold with Lantar's idea of -confining- her
there, there's the spare space in my tower," Tsuwabuki said.  "I have
a whole suite of rooms on the level below my study that I never use."
        "East Hall would be a lonely life for someone trying to find a
new place to fit in," Kanae observed.  "So would the tower, come to
that.  Both places were designed to set their inhabitants apart."
        "Well, we can't expect some random student to - "
        "She can come an' stay with me," Peri interjected, derailing
the discussion entirely.  Everyone turned to look at her.
        "I thought you didn't like the idea of her staying at all,"
Kardon said.  "Now you're inviting her to room with you?  Why?"
        Peri regarded him seriously for a moment, then grinned and
sprang up onto the table, hands on hips, dark-blue eyes twinkling.
        "Because I'm a Took," she said, "an' we dinna know any better.
Besides," she went on, lying down on the table with her lower legs
hanging over the edge and her hands behind her curly head, "she's an
exile, yeah?  We've a long an' honorable tradition o' takin' in strays
in the Shire.  We can't bear tae let anyone go without an 'ot meal an'
a soft place tae sleep."
        Tsuwabuki grinned.  "Thanks, Peri," he said.  Then, rising, he
added, "I guess we're agreed, then.  Kanae, will you send word to the
Trinity about this?  I know they're very, uh, preoccupied right now,
but they should at least be informed.  Tell them I'm working on it,
and there's nothing happening that they need to concern themselves
with at this point."
        Kanae nodded.  "I'll do that.  Thank you, Mitsuru.  All of
you.  It's good to see that the Student Council is upholding the
Academy's principles of fairness and extending an open hand to someone
in need."
        Keiko got up and threaded her sword through her belt.  "What
would you have done if we'd decided to turn her away?" she asked.
        "I don't interfere with the business of the Council," Kanae
replied, "but I would have been very disappointed."
        Peri sat up and hopped down from the table, then ducked
underneath it to make for the exit.  "Speakin' of 'ot meals, I've just
enough time before me next class for a spot o' second breakfast.
Ye'll bring me new roommate by after lunch, Mitsuru?  I'll be studyin'
from two tae four."
        Tsuwabuki grinned.  "Sure."

                               ORIPHOS

        Akio Ohtori stood in front of an ebony-framed mirror,
smoothing the creases of his dress uniform and considering the
impression carefully.  He hadn't worn the new one - black where the
old had been white, blood-red where the old had been blue - very
often, preferring to dress casually around the Institute whenever
possible.  He still felt a little odd so attired.  The cut was still
unfamiliar, not as ingrained in his habits as the False Prince's
uniform had been.
        At a sound from the door, he turned to see Touga Kiryuu,
similarly garbed.
        "What do you think, Touga?" Akio asked.  "Perhaps doing away
with the double-breasted jacket was a mistake."
        Touga looked mildly perplexed and offered no opinion.  Akio
let it hang for a second, then chuckled.  "Perhaps not.  Is everything
ready?"
        Touga nodded.  "I'm uncomfortable with you going alone," he
said, but Akio brushed it aside.
        "We've already discussed this, Touga," he said.  "You attract
far too much attention, and all of it the wrong kind."
        "At least... "  Touga hesitated as if he couldn't quite
believe what he was about to suggest, then gritted his teeth and got
on with it.  "At least take Nanami."
        "You will take any opportunity to separate yourself from your
sister, won't you?" Akio asked, amused.  "And after all I did to bring
the pair of you together at last.  I can't help but feel a trifle
hurt."
        Touga scowled, but said nothing.  Akio sighed.
        "Very well," he conceded, inclining his head slightly.  "I'll
take Nanami along.  Perhaps she'll evoke some interesting reactions of
her own.  It might be entertaining, if nothing else.  Inform her.  We
leave within the hour."
        Touga nodded, turned, and left the room.  After he was gone,
Akio smiled ironically.
        It might be entertaining indeed.

                               CEPHIRO

        It took Tsuwabuki a while to figure out just how to handle the
slight problem of accommodating Anaximandra Drax at the Academy.
There was no problem with where she would stay, thanks to Peri, and no
question that she was (provisionally) welcome - but there was the
small matter of her sensitivity to sunlight, of which the campus
received more than its fair share most days.  The standard girl's
uniform, with its short sleeves and mini-skirt, would leave a lot of
her exposed to the sun, and then there were her eyes to be considered.
        Tsuwabuki worked on the problem for several hours before
finally conceding defeat and consulting Master Clef, then was mildly
gratified to learn that the ancient master had to look up a possible
solution himself.  Fortunately, the trusty CRC Handbook of Alchemy and
Metaphysics came to the rescue, providing a recipe for a simple
alchemical preparation.  This wouldn't entirely solve the problem, but
it would at least bring it down to manageable levels while Tsuwabuki
looked for something better.
        Thus, Anaximandra wore a broad-brimmed hat and carried a
parasol, but didn't have to cover herself from head to foot and wear a
welder's mask to walk outside - and so she was relatively normally
dressed when she arrived at Peregrine Took's room in South Hall.
        Tsuwabuki was relieved to see that Peri had tidied the place
up a bit, if only a bit, in anticipation of her new roommate.  Not
that her room was usually -dirty-, as such, but in Tsuwabuki's
experience it was often... chaotic.  Peri's people were not known for
their meticulous housekeeping, and with no roommate to worry about
discommoding, she tended to keep things in piles, with unsteady stacks
of books teetering next to jumbled heaps of papers and whatnot.  There
was still some of that going on, but she'd confined it all to one side
of the room now, causing the junk density on top of her desk to double
but leaving the other half clear.
        "'Ello, 'ello, come in," she said cheerfully, waving Tsuwabuki
and his charge into the room.  "Ye're right on time, I just finished
sortin' some o' the clobber tae make room for ye.  Welcome tae South
Hall.  I'm Peregrine Took.  Peri, if ye like."
        Anaximandra blinked.  "You're a... halfling?" she inquired.
        Peri tilted her head with a thoughtful frown.  "Well, I s'pose
so," she said.  "We prefer 'vaettir', though.  We're nae -half- o'
anythin', y'see," she added with a smile.
        "I'm sorry," Anaximandra said, lowering her eyes.  "I didn't
mean to offend you."
        Peri gave a cheery snort.  "Peh!  I've been offended by
-experts-," she said.  "Doon't think o' it."
        "Well, if you two are all right, I'll push off," Tsuwabuki
said.  "Things to attend to, you know."
        "Aye, run along, then," said Peri with a grin and a dismissive
wave.  "I'll take i' from here."
        Tsuwabuki grinned, bowed, and exited.
        "Well!" Peri said.  "Someone else from the upper planes.
This'll be int'restin'.  Has Tsuwabuki given ye the book, then?"
        Anaximandra blinked again.  "The book?"
        Peri smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of one
hand.  "That lad, I swear," she said.  "Clever an' not hard tae look
a', bu' ye have tae beat 'im wi' a stick tae get any work out o' 'im."
She went to one of her stacks of books, scanned the spines, and yanked
a volume out of the middle, causing the rest of the pile to collapse
in a heap.  Seeming to pay the collapse no mind, she crossed the room
and handed her prize over to Anaximandra, who took in the cover with
interest.

                   SO YOU FELL FROM A GREAT HEIGHT
       A Celestial Outcast's Survival Guide to the Mortal Plane

        Anaximandra favored her new roommate with a skeptical look and
asked, "... Is this a joke?"
        Peri shook her head.  "One thing about me," she said with a
twinkle in her eye, "is tha' ye'll never have tae ask when I'm
jokin'.  Ye'll know.  So!  Which bunk d'ye fancy?  I've been usin' the
top one, bu' I'm flexible."
        "The lower one's fine, thank you... Peri."
        "Fine then, fine indeed."  Peri nodded with an air of
satisfaction, then tilted her head again.  "What do I call ye?  I
cannae keep sayin' 'Anaximandra, Anaximandra' over an' over again.
Tha'll take all day.  Did ye have a nickname back in the City o'
Secrets?"
        Anaximandra looked up from the book and shook her head.
"We... aren't much for informalities in Svartalfheim."
        "Mm, nay, ye wouldna be, stupid question," Peri agreed,
shaking her head.  "Hmm.  Well, I'll 'ave tae take matters intae me
own 'ands, then.  Never mind, I'm good a' tha'.  I'll come up wi'
somethin' by the end o' the week."  Grinning, she went to her desk,
sat down, and started rummaging around again.  "You go on readin',
then, an' if ye have any questions, just ask.  Meantime, I seem tae've
buried me next class assignment... "
        Anaximandra assured her that she would speak up with any
questions she might have, then returned to her reading.  As she read
over the first part of the introduction, she felt herself smiling just
a little bit.  Peri was quite right, after all.
        This -was- going to be interesting.

                        FRIDAY, MARCH 5, 2410
             DEEDLIT SATORI MANDEVILLE MEMORIAL INSTITUTE
                      JERADDO, B'HAVA'EL SYSTEM
                           CENTAURUS SECTOR

        Boba Fett was checking the last of his blasters when Sakura
Byakuro appeared in the doorway of his room just off the upper level
of the Castle's great hall, sword case in hand.
        "Hey, are you ready to go?" she asked.
        "Just about."  Fett slapped the power pack back into the
blaster, set the safety interlock, and put the weapon in its holster,
then tucked the whole affair into the duffel bag that sat in the
middle of the open Anvil case in front of him.
        Sakura just goggled at him for a moment, then put her hands on
her hips.
        "Boba, come -on-," she said.  "You're packing all your -bounty
hunting- crap?"
        Fett gave her an arched eyebrow.  "You're carrying a bunch of
your -ninja- crap," he said pointedly.
        "That's different.  I'm... well, I'm a -ninja-.  We swear
oaths about that kind of thing.  But jeez, we're going to a
-wedding-."  Gesturing at the various items nestled into the Anvil
case's conformal foam, Sakura went on, "There is no conceivable way
you're going to need body armor, a duffel bag full of weapons, and a
-jet pack-."
        Boba opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so, the
booming voice of General Kraalgh, the Duelists' Society's visiting
former faculty advisor, reverberated through the great hall in his
native tongue:
        <MOVE OUT, YOU LAGGARDS!  ANYONE NOT OUT HERE IN TWO MINUTES
IS WALKING TO THE SPACEPORT!>
        Once the rafters stopped ringing, Boba grinned at Sakura and
pointed out,
        "We're going to -Corwin's- wedding."
        Now it was Sakura's turn to consider the point.  She did so,
then nodded.
        "Wait here," she said.  "I'm gonna go get the rest of my ninja
stuff."

/*  Joe Satriani  "The Souls of Distortion"  _Is There Love in Space?_  */

                     Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                              presented

                 Undocumented Features Future Imperfect
                 THE ORDER OF THE ROSE: A DUELIST OPERA

                           Out of the Blue

                               The Cast
                       (in order of appearance)
                           Kaitlyn Hutchins
                             Utena Tenjou
                                Sergei
                             Anthy Tenjou
                            Juri Arisugawa
                              Anne Cross
                                F-3PZ
                              Miki Kaoru
                          Mitsuru Tsuwabuki
                             Keiko Sonoda
                             Kardon Felz
                           Anaximandra Drax
                             Akio Ohtori
                             Souji Mikage
                           Corwin Ravenhair
                           Hiroshi Morisato
                           Anakin Skywalker
                            Leyna Tarrant
                          Lantar ibn'Zaltir
                            Peregrine Took
                             Kanae Ohtori
                             Touga Kiryuu
                              Boba Fett
                            Sakura Byakuro
                        Kraalgh vestai-Kalaan

                    Aligner of the Crystal Spheres
                         Benjamin D. Hutchins

                         Fireside Coordinator
                           Philip J. Moyer

                         Apprentice Wrangler
                              Anne Cross

                         Suspicious Behavior
                          The Usual Suspects

                         E P U (colour) 2007