OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : None of these guys are mine. The Sailor 
Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Yoroiden are owned by 
Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm a 
student. 

                    RONIN SUMMER 4 : INNER BATTLES
            
         A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over

             by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)



Part 11 : THE OWL UNMASKED

	This was going to be too easy, the girl thought as she glided 
forward as quietly as she could. She had almost made it all the way 
across the courtyard, and the oaf at the gate hadn't heard her. Her 
uniform blended well with the shadows, and she had learned a thing 
or two about subtlety in her years as a Sailor Senshi. 

	She ducked low behind a nearby barrel as the giant cyclops at 
the gate cast its gaze past her position and checked behind her. There,
a brief flash of brown hair bobbed behind a row of crates, moving 
closer towards the large and rusted series of locks holding shut the 
massive gates of Jadeite's craggy fortress. 

	The guard's head began to turn, his attention perhaps drawn 
by the motion, the colour... he opened his mouth to shout an alarm, his
hands reaching for the sword Ami Mizuno had already taken from his 
scabbard. Reversing it, she cracked the handle against his temple with 
all her strength and watched as he fell to the ground. 

	"Oh!" She whispered into her glove, and dropped the sword. Had 
SHE just managed to do that? She guessed all that time she spent 
listening to Ryo Sanada talk about pressure points and strike zones 
had paid off. 

	Makoto looked over and raised an eyebrow as she lifted the 
heavy iron bar resting against the doors. "Good work, Ami!" 

	"I guess I learn fast." Sailor Mercury said quietly, as she ran
over and helped her friend remove the bar. Together, they began working
on sabotaging the winch for the portcullis, a sharpened steel grate 
that would slam down over the portal during sieges. 

**********

	Shin groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "I swear, 
we're NOT working for Jadeite! We're friends of his! Mamoru Chiba : ask
him yourself!" 

	"Never heard of him." The speaker, a large minotaur covered in 
black fur, crossed his arms over his drumlike chest and snorted a cloud
of steam into the chilled air of the cavern they were in. Shin was 
very glad at the moment that a series of interlaced steel bars thicker 
than his own torso stood between him and the creature as it spoke 
again. "He must not be here. He never was, and he never will be. Isn't 
that right, guys?" 

	A large and smelly (and LARGE, Shin added mentally) crowd of 
youma formed behind the minotaur and began rumbling their assent. Shin 
gulped, and began wishing that the bars were just a tad thicker. Beside
him, Rei Hino snorted her own cloud of steam, and stamped her foot. 

	"Listen, horn head. We know Mamoru Chiba is in there, you know 
Mamoru Chiba is in there, so quit dancing around the question and let 
us in!" The Shinto priestess, whom Shin had personally seen feed a deer
from the palm of her hand, was snarling like a rabid fox. "Or are you 
going to stand there and keep being stupid? Because frankly, it isn't 
doing much for your looks. In fact, you are without a doubt the 
biggest, dumbest, butt-ugliest..."

	"You'd better let her in, Takenoko," a deep and masculine voice
interupted, "before she REALLY gets mad. Believe me : she'd actually 
pick a fight with you. She'd probably win, too."

	The minotaur immediately seemed to almost deflate, relaxing and
popping open the gate with childish ease. Shin gulped again, and 
realised exactly how much 'protection' those bars had been giving him. 
Rei nodded curtly, and brushed past the crowd of youma, sniffing 
delicately and tossing back her long mane of black hair. "About time," 
she huffed.

	At the other end of the menangerie, Mamoru Chiba stood, smiling
to himself and sniffing a red rose. He was dressed differently from 
when Rei had seen him last, in coarse black pants and an equally 
coarse black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and collar open. "Hi, 
Rei!" He said cheerily. "How's things back in Tokyo? Have you done 
something new with your hair? You look different." 

	"I'm disguised as my evil clone, nimrod." Rei scowled prettily.
"What are you doing? Shin and I came all this way to save you from 
unspeakable horrors! The least you can do is not look like you're 
having so much fun!" 

	"Oh, believe me, Rei. The past few days down here have hardly 
been... well rosy, if you'll allow me the pun." Mamoru smiled. "I've 
been in twelve scheduled deathmatches with some of the worst scum this 
dimension has to offer. I've fought youma, yauja, daimons, even a 
Sharkticon when the audience was feeling frisky. And that's just in 
the Pit." The dark haired young man gestured, and his two friends began
following him, not overlooking the way every youma in the place seemed 
to be crowding around them. 

	"I've also been the target of six assassination attempts. One 
nearly got me in the shower : he was made of liquid. Good thing old 
Takenoko heard me shout, or I wouldn't be here right now. He's a good 
man, or minotaur, or whatever. He's also a very sensitive guy, Rei : 
you should probably apologise to him." Mamoru reached out and shook 
hands with a youma made of ice in passing, palming a note and passing 
it behind his back to Takenoko, who was tailing dutifully a few steps 
behind. "While I was at it," he continued, "I joined a rebellion 
against Jadeite, but only as a hobby." 

	"Oh, yes," Shin said as he took in the squalid and harsh 
surroundings of the corridor they were in, "I suppose one must keep 
busy." 

	"Are you kidding?" Mamoru laughed and grabbed a bar that had 
been hung from the ceiling. "If it weren't for all the tournament 
fights, we'd die of boredom down here. There's nothing to do but eat 
slop, sleep on rocks, and train for the Pit." He began to do chin ups, 
and the youma around him started counting in a rythmic chant. "It's a 
kind of tradition," Mamoru explained, his face turning purple. "Any 
position down here is decided by three things : your rank in the 
fights, your devotion to the rebellion, and how you rate in the 
training room. Two out of three doesn't mean squat."

	Takenoko nodded sagely as he placed the note he had recieved 
behind his belt buckle. "Darien here ranks second in the Pit, fourth 
in the rebellion, and tenth in training. I keep telling him he needs 
more time on the weights, but he insists on working on his speed." The 
minotaur chuckled. "Can you believe that? Fastest bugger down here, 
and he thinks he needs to work on his speed!" The chuckle became a 
guffaw, and Rei watched with surprise as Mamoru joined in the laughter.

	"Darien?" She asked, after sharing a confused look with Shin.

	"It's kind of an in-joke, Rei." Mamoru smiled at Takenoko. "You
wouldn't get it. Guy thing. Let's go see what our pen pal sent us, ne 
Takenoko?"
 
**********

	The note reading, apparently, involved nearly every youma and 
daimon in the Cage, as they called their living quarters / prison, 
gathering around Takenoko and sitting on the padded floor of their 
gymnasium as he read aloud. Rei shook her head and tried very hard 
not to be reminded of story time in Kindergarten. 

	Mamoru, who hadn't been able to stay still since the moment 
they saw him, had immediately bounced up and begun working on the 
practice dummy, ducking under and gliding around the spinning poles 
attached eratically to its cylindrical body as he punched, kicked, 
and elbowed it in the clearly marked vital zones. "Well?" He asked 
in a distracted tone, "start reading already! You're our general, 
Takenoko."

	The minotaur remained silent, his grip on the message so tight 
that his entire body began to tremble. "It's here," he grunted softly, 
before leaping to his feet and holding the message above his head like 
a signal beacon. "THE DAY HAS COME! WE'RE GOING HOME!" 

	The entire crowd began cheering, hooting, roaring, clicking, 
and hissing in joy as scaly, shaggy, slimy, and skeletal youma all 
began to leap around as if it was New Year's or something. Rei blinked.
"What?" She asked intelligently. 

	"That message is from the Owl," Mamoru explained as he blocked 
the spinning posts with his forearm and thrust the extended fingers of 
his other hand through the padded area where his opponent's eyes would 
be. Panting heavily, he grabbed a towel and began drying himself off. 
"Judging from Takenoko's jig over there," he panted as he watched the 
minotaur prance around like a ten ton ballerina, "we just got a green 
light. These boys just got told that their chains are coming off, and 
getting wrapped around Jadeite's throat. Could you hand me my shirt, 
Shin? Thanks."

	Suddenly, the festivities ended as a loud horn blared through 
the training centre. All eyes in the room turned expectantly towards 
a large PA system set up in the upper left corner of the area. Shin and
Rei looked around in confusion. 

	"It's the fight announcer," Takanoko groaned in a hushed tone. 
"Someone's gotta go to the Pit." The crowd began to murmer as a static 
crackled across the PA. 

	"Poor bastard..." 

	"So close, and now one of us has to..." 

	"Guess the Pit wants to say good-bye..."

	"DARIEN," The trumpet shaped speaker boomed, "REPORT TO THE 
CHANGE ROOMS FOR A FLOOR MATCH. ROUND ONE IS IN FIVE MINUTES."

	Mamoru stood very still, and slowly buttoned his shirt, as if 
he had never buttoned a shirt before, taking infinite care to do it 
right. With the same blank look on his face, he rolled the long black 
sleeves back up to his elbows. 

	"Hey," Takenoko said softly, patting Mamoru on the back, "just 
think of it as a swan song. Owl says he's coming in half an hour... all
you gotta do is hold out until then..." 

	"Yeah," Mamoru replied flatly. "No problem. Like taking candy 
from a baby... and twice as sweet." 

**********

	"I don't understand," Shin said to the large minotaur looming 
next to him as he and nearly every other inhabitant of the Cage watched
through a slot in the metal walls of the Pit. "Mamoru said he's already
won twelve of these things. What's the big deal about another one?" 

	"Those were all bridge matches." Takenoko moaned. "This is 
a floor match. They move the seating down, retract the walls... you 
fight on the killing floor. A bridge match can end in surrender, 
injury, knock out, even tossing the other guy over the edge. Floor 
matches, though... those don't end until someone is dead. Usually 
everyone. And take it from someone who's seen one : EVERYTHING goes." 

	Out on the floor, Mamoru took a look around. It wasn't much at 
first glance, just a stone floor with ten foot tall, serrated spikes 
jutting up all over the place. Everything was stained brown, too : old 
bloodstains, from who knew how many matches. He fought the urge to 
pinch his nose, and forced himself to keep breathing. The sooner he got
used to the stench, the less it would affect him during the fight. 

	Something skittered past, and Mamoru whirled to face it. 
Nothing, save a quick glance at a tail as it slid behind one of the 
spikes and off into the growing dusk of evening. Tonight's fight would 
be lit by torches, he noticed, and he was pretty sure that Jadeite was 
watching. Another sound, almost like that of claws ticking against the 
stone, from the left, and Mamoru turned again. Two of them, eh? He 
tightened his grip on his staff. Well, he'd fought against worse odds 
when he was helping the Sailor Senshi. Not often, of course, and he 
had usually had help of his own, but that didn't seem important at the 
moment. 

	There was a sharp snap, followed by a hissing sound, and a 
shaft of pure white light pierced the darkness. It was a glowing blade,
held by a young man dressed in black, his silver torso armour finely 
etched and his long red cape flowing behind him. He had short red hair,
and skin as pale as fresh snow. 

	"So," the swordsman said in a deep and steady voice, "at long 
last, I face Prince Endymion. You, as much as anyone, is responsible 
for my mother's death..." He paused, and smirked. "Of course, we've 
yet to be introduced. I am Prince Korran, and these are my associates."

	A heavy weight slammed into Mamoru from behind, and he 
rolled with it, throwing off the strange lizard-like youma that had 
pounced on him. Tumbling to his feet, Mamoru spun his staff and 
thrust on instinct, catching the second youma in the throat as it 
leaped out of the darkness. It made a gurgling noise, and for a second 
he dared to hope that it was down for good. Sadly, he was less than 
surprised when it chose to vomit a beam of energy at him instead of 
roll over and die. With a muttered curse, he dodged to the left, 
leaping high as the second youma added its fire to the cause, and twin 
beams of coruscating light began sweeping towards him as he spun in the
air, somersaulting away as the beams crossed inches from his heels and 
continued their search. 

	Fire nipping at his heels, he glanced upwards in time to see 
Korran's armored elbow flying towards his face. 

	"Glad you could drop in," the elven warrior commented, before 
sending Mamoru back to a sudden and harsh reunion with the ground. 
Groaning and rolling over, Mamoru threw himself back into a handspring,
moving seconds before Korran's glowing blade chipped the stones he had 
been lying on, raising a flurry of small granite slivers. 

	Landing on his feet, Mamoru ducked a backhand to his face and 
grappled with the lizard youma in front of him. He realised a trifle 
too late that he had left himself exposed when it grinned and opened 
it's gaping maw, a ball of energy beginning to form somewhere around 
its tonsils. Thinking fast, Mamoru ducked again and shifted his grip 
on the creature, lifting it onto his shoulders and hurling it into its 
partner as the second youma tried to charge him from behind. The two 
went down, hissing and snarling, and columns of energy gushed forth 
once more. 

	Mamoru blinked. Wait a minute... columns of energy? Korran, 
holding a glowing sword and flying above him? What was wrong with this 
picture? He smiled and reached into his shirt pocket as he turned to 
face the man before him. "That's a nice sword you have there," he said 
with a grin. "Must come in handy if you ever get attacked by 
mosquitos." Watching carefully, he saw Korran's eyes widen almost 
imperceptibly as the innocent looking rose was exposed to the night 
air.

	"I was right, wasn't I?" Mamoru asked with a triumphant smirk. 
"This is a SPECIAL match! The power supression field's been turned off!
That's why you were able to fly, that's why your pet igaunas had the 
bad breath, and that's..." A web of black energy enveloped his body, 
as Mamoru's rough and torn clothing was replaced with a spotless black 
tuxedo. "...why Tuxedo Kamen is back in action!"

	Korran, to Mamoru - to Tuxedo Kamen's surprise, only smiled 
grimly and raised his blade. "So, you were able to figure out our 
advantage... good! I wish a fair playing ground when I kill you, Prince
Endymion." 

	"You have a funny way of showing it!" Tuxedo Kamen retaliated, 
the lenses of his white mask glinting in the torchlight. His arm was 
little more than a blur of motion as he tossed a rose at the man, who 
gasped in pain as the flower embedded itself in his shoulder. 
Taking his advantage, Tuxedo Kamen leapt forward, his entire body 
pivoting in mid-air so that he brought both heels down on the crown of 
the red-haired warrior's head in a vicious double axe kick. 

	With little ceremony, Korran crumpled like a paper doll, 
flopping to the ground and spitting epitaphs, as he scrambled to get 
back on his feet. Cape flapping dramatically in the breeze, Tuxedo 
Kamen drifted lazily to the ground again, the cane in his gloved hands 
lengthening as he lifted it above his head to finish off the man 
before him. 

	In a final, desperate lunge, Korran drove his sword deep into 
Tuxedo Kamen's shoulder. The cane clattered loudly to the ground, 
followed quickly by the man's top hat, as Tuxedo Kamen reeled and 
grasped his injury, blood spilling freely between his fingers. 

	"Now," Korran gasped, "we are even once more, Prince Endymion."
Shaking his head like a wet dog, he managed to drag himself back to 
his feet. Tuxedo Kamen fell backward, still clutching his shoulder, and
gritting his teeth as Korran stumbled forward, lifting his blade once 
more. "Forgive me," he said calmly, "but I fear I must pull AHEAD..."

	The glowing blade whistled through the air, fully intent on 
severing Mamoru Chiba's tastefully attired neck. Tuxedo Kamen tried 
to drag himself backwards, away from the dropping edge, but hissed and 
collapsed, blood pumping freshly from the wound in his shoulder. With 
no other choice, he threw up his left arm, and howled as the blade sunk
deep into it. Blood spurted anew, and Tuxedo Kamen pulled back, rolling
onto his stomach and forcing himself to his knees. 

	Korran watched, and nodded in respect. "You're good," he 
admitted shakily, raising his free hand to examine the blood smeared on
it. "In fact, you may well be the best warrior of your breed." His eyes
slowly narrowed, and he clenched his fist as he raised the blade. "But 
I fear I am of somewhat higher stock, and at the end of the day, you're
still... just... a human." He tilted his head to one side, and smiled 
softly. "Farewell, Tuxedo Kamen." 

**********

	"We have to do something!" Shin began to struggle, pounding 
futilely on the metal wall in front of him as he curled his fingers 
into fists. "He's going to die! That psychopath is going to kill him!"

	"No..." Rei shook her head ferociously, her black hair rippling
around her. "This isn't right... Mamoru HAS to win, he just HAS to... 
I mean, he's Tuxedo Kamen! Tuxedo Kamen ALWAYS wins... doesn't he?" 

	"Everybody always wins, little ones," Takenoko said sadly, 
as he placed his large, rough hands on their heads, "until the day they
lose. Come. We have to go... Owl needs us at the gates in two minutes. 
There's nothing we can do for him here..."

	"But... Mamoru!" Rei clasped her hands together, and her eyes 
began to get moist as her lip trembled. 

	"No!" Shin stepped in and grabbed her, shaking the girl until 
he had her attention. "Think about Makoto, and Ami, and Minako... think
about the Samurai Troopers, and the Owl! If we aren't where we need to 
be when we need to be there, they're all as good as dead." Shin bit his
lip for a moment, and said it. "We have to leave Mamoru behind. We 
have to go on without him!" 

**********

	Mamoru leaned back against the flat edge of a large spike, 
trying to catch his breath as he hunched over, his cape falling over 
his body. 

	"Look at you, old man." Korran pointed to the pool of red 
forming at Mamoru's feet. "You're only prolonging the inevitable... 
every moment you waste with these struggles, your own heart is pumping 
your life out onto the ground. You can barely use your arms, and your 
only weapon is out of reach. I think you'll find the situation quite 
hopeless."

	"Really?" Tuxedo Kamen hung his head for a moment, then snapped
it up and looked directly into his opponent's eyes. "I think you'll 
find I'm full of surprises," he said, and threw back his cape, an 
entire bouquet of roses tearing through the air and slamming into the 
elven warrior. As Korran staggered, Tuxedo Kamen stepped forward and 
rocked him with an uppercut that started by his ankles and ended upside
the other man's head. An arc of blood glittered as it jetted from the 
gash in his forearm, and Tuxedo Kamen set about using his cape as a 
makeshift bandage. 

	Feeling his jaw gingerly, Korran began to sit up, and reached 
for his sword once more. "I told you before, Endymion : no human shall 
defeat me!" 

	A single gunshot echoed through the arena, and both combatants 
turned to see a lone figure perched atop the highest spike, his gray 
cloak swirling in the breeze. A single trail of smoke curled delicately
from the barrel of his pistol as the Owl tucked his gun away and drew 
his sword. 

	"Luckily," his synthesized voice garbled, "I am not human." 
Gracefully, he leapt to the floor, landing between Korran and Mamoru. 
"Leave this place, Tuxedo Kamen. Your daughter needs her father. Your 
love needs her protector." The torchlight glinted off of the intricate 
helmet of the Owl as his black visor regarded the pale swordsman he 
faced. "I shall handle this creature." 

	Mamoru slowly nodded, picking up his cane as he limped out of 
the Pit. At the doors, he looked over his shoulder and saw Owl and 
Korran, standing as still as statues, their blades almost but not quite
touching as each stood frozen in his ready pose, waiting for the battle
to begin. "Good luck to you, friend," he murmured, "whoever you are."
Donning his top hat and double checking his bandage, he nodded to 
himself and left. Tuxedo Kamen was needed elsewhere.

**********

	"You," Korran said calmly, "are an imposter. I knew the Owl. 
He raised me, he trained me, and he died." 

	The Owl shrugged imperceptibly. "I have no desire to fight you,
Korran son of Kain." His own blade dipped slightly. "Lay down your 
sword, and walk away while you still can." 

	Korran grinned, baring his long and sharpened canines. "Now, 
I ask you : where is the honour in that?" 

**********

	You're not the only one who's lonely, 
	Try sitting on the crescent moon.
	The dreams we had as children are still bright, 
	like shining stars.

	Ride on, and never give up, no matter 
	how sad or difficult things become.

**********

	Swords rang against each other like bells as the two men 
slashed and parried, ducked and dodged. Their entire bodies accelerated
until eventually they were little more than blurs of motion, darting 
back and forth around the arena. Ironically, it was perhaps the best 
display of fighting prowess ever demonstrated in the Pit, and nobody 
was there to see it. 

	Owl leapt over one of Korran's swipes, somersaulting backwards 
and kicking off of the far wall. Korran threw himself to the side as 
Owl launched forward like a human spear, his sword held in front of 
him. Flipping in mid-air, Owl righted himself and spun in time to 
block Korran's blade with his own. Beryl's son grinned viciously as he 
pressed down, forcing the Owl to his knees. 

	"Your form is familiar to me, Owl," Korran confessed, as he 
glared at the cloaked form. "I feel as though I should know you."

	"Your heart knows me," Owl hissed, "even if your mind does not.
I am honour. I am righteousness." Gritting his teeth, he forced himself
back to his feet, pushing Korran away. "And... I... AM... JUSTICE!"
	
**********

	Kiss me, Wind, kiss me... 
	...hold me, Sky, hold me tight...
	...and protect us, always...
	...until we overcome and break down the walls...
	...until we touch down and seize our dreams...
	...because we were born to be happy.

**********

	With a snarling hiss, one of Korran's lizard youma bounded 
forward, its claws raised high. Owl spun, his left hand rising even as 
he cursed himself for turning away from his opponent. The pistol he 
held bucked in his hand, blasting into the creature's mouth and 
dropping it dead to the ground. With a hiss of his own, Owl spun and 
pointed the gun at Korran, who still stood where he had been moments 
ago, sword held ready and a mocking smile on his lips. 

	"Please," Owl said, almost begging as he threw the empty 
handgun away and lifted his sword once more, "end this pointless 
battle!	Your death will not keep this lunatic on the throne."

	"No," Korran admitted, "but yours will!" Thrusting forward, he 
drove the blade of his sword deep into the black fabric covering Owl's 
chest. There was a deep, shuddering gasp, and Owl fell forward, 
slumping over the man's shoulder.

**********

 	"Romantic, Dramatic" 
	If we lie together, it'll be a misty night.
	"Romantic, Dramatic"
	I can't get what I want with longing alone.

**********

	Hot, red blood gushed from Owl's chest, staining both men as 
the rebel leader clutched the shoulders of his enemy, trying to stand 
upright. "B-brother..." He rasped, and fell backwards, his long grey 
cape fluttering around him as he slammed onto the cold stone of the 
Killing Floor like a bird with a broken wing.

	"No..." Korran's sword tumbled from numb fingers as he dropped 
to his knees, frantically pulling off the exotic, crafted helmet of 
the Owl. He already knew what he would find : short red hair, snowy 
white skin, and features all too similar to his own. "Kirin? How? How 
could you..."

	"I guess," Korran's twin said with a faint smile, "I always 
did take after Father..." A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner 
of his mouth. "I shall have to tell that joke to Mother... I wonder if 
she's with him?"

	"Kirin, please!" Korran lifted the slim young man, gently 
shaking him as he held the Kirin in his arms. "Please, forgive me... I 
didn't know! Why didn't you TELL me? I would have gone with you!"

	"No." Kirin smiled again, and coughed slightly. "Some journeys,
even your brother has to walk alone." He shuddered slightly, and turned
his head to rest on his brother's chest. "It's awful dark," he 
whispered, "would you mind if I... leave a light on?" 

	"Of course not." Korran smiled sadly. "Turn on the night light,
Kiri-kun." 

	"Won't... tell Father... will you?" Kirin's glazed golden eyes 
seemed to clear as he looked up at his brother and suddenly developed a
large, boyish grin. "You would have been a good king, Korran. You would
have... made us all proud." 

	The elven warrior sighed, and hung his head, a single tear 
drifting from the corner of his eyes, which were squeezed shut. 
"Farewell, Kirin-kun," he whispered, stroking the young man's face even
as his brother's golden eyes glazed for the last time. "Go in peace."

**********

	Kiss me, Wind, kiss me...
	...hold me, Sky, hold me tight...
	...and protect us, always...
	...until we overcome and break down our walls...
	...until we touch down and seize out dreams...
	...because we were born to be happy.

**********

To Be Concluded...