A/N: I said I would so I am. The super (hopefully) long Reinako fic is on its way. I'm taking a traditional view of everything that I've read and what most agree on, and completely doing a reverse on it. It's sort of like all of those "why do they call it a xbox 360?" jokes that I read in Trade chat back when I was serious about playing WoW. This is a work in progress, as I get happy with each chapter it'll be added. I do promise to not abandon this, for anyone else out there that gets started on a really good story only to find out it was last updated like… six years ago. AU Silver Millennium based, there will be language, naughtiness, hopefully convincing fight scenes and who knows what else, so expect this to live up to the M rating even if right now, it isn't doing much. Huge thanks to sailorsunspot on Tumblr for being my idea sorter and helping with the grammar and offering awesome suggestions. Reviews are cool, questions are cool, life is good.

Standard disclaimer. I own nothing save the depraved and devious thoughts in my head, though I also own my car. The rest belongs to who it belongs to.

Chapter 1.

The road I walk is paved in gold
To glorify my platinum soul.
-Innerpartysystem, "Don't Stop"

Hindsight. Recognition of the realities, possibilities, or requirements of a situation, event, decision, etc., after its occurrence.

In hindsight it should have been a lot easier than what it turned out to be. Sure there had been some leeway given for doubt and the unknown; it was a war zone after all and chaos generally ruled that supreme. But it was supposed to have been easy, easy enough that despite the conflict that had invaded the planet to its seemingly very core, she could step in, collect her charge, and they would be off in a matter of days.

There was a reason why they called it hindsight though, and even the best of them, her best for that matter, simply could not plan for every single possibility. Contingency plans aside, an active imagination that would serve well in the face of any obstacle, she had not and could not know everything. She could not know what would happen; she could guess and hope and dream, but it was impossible to know exactly for sure. Until it happened.

Her confidence was abound; it had every single right to be for who she was. She did not allow for deviances from her course of action, did not allow for the what-ifs that could plague any mission, did not allow for the one thing to happen that she should have known, should have guessed, should have felt given who she was… would happen.

She should have known she would fall in love.

She should have known she would find her soulmate.

She should have known and naturally she did not. And it naturally blindsided her once she did. And it naturally made her rebel. And it naturally made her doubt, call into question her orders, her mission, her honor. It turned her world upside down, twisted it inside out, spun it counter to its normal rotation on its axis, and completely rebuilt the sum of her existence.

Hindsight, as they called it, was a bitch.

From the outside, the planet looked like blood. A hue of such crimson she almost pondered for a moment what was more real, the view of the orb that they were approaching or what flowed through her veins. It was not a long to live muse however, for the color changed to something more metallic the closer they got to breaking the atmosphere. A rusty shade now, like metal left to the whims of the rain. As the small courier ship made motion to land so she could disembark, her gaze closed to consider the mission.

She was to find the Princess of Mars, a Priestess apparently, and secure her back to the Moon. From there, she would begin her training, just as the others had from Mercury and Jupiter respectively. This one was the last, to form the four that serve as the Princess' inner guard. The four of them would train long and hard together, becoming a cohesive unit. The Princess' protectors and guardians, it figured only that only royalty could serve to such an honor guard, that only royalty could be so befitting of such rank and prestige.

That was the short of it, she did not need to recall what the Queen had said word for word as though she was a simpleton, and therefore did not dwell on it. She knew what she had to do, and a pretty good idea of how she was going to go about it. Instead, her thoughts were on calming down her stomach which was still not a fan of planetary travel, no matter how many trips she had been on. For as much travel as she did, one would expect that she still made it home, to her own planet, at least on occasion. Those that assumed such a notion were wrong, so very, very wrong.

She had a duty, first and foremost. She missed her home, missed the sights, the sounds, her family even more than that… but the mission came first. That was her duty and oath, and by Venus, she would not falter in such regards. A deep breath in and another out as she felt the shuttle land with a rocky jerk, further testing her resolve. Hands tightened on the seat's arms, she didn't have to look and couldn't at the moment given that her eyes were closed, but she knew that under her white leather gloves her grip was a pale knuckled sort.

Flying was for the birds; they probably had more grace than even a Mecurian speeder. Swallowing back a feeling of queasiness her cerulean gaze opened anew. There was no time like the present and thus out of the chair she went, undoing the webbing that allowed her to keep her seat when leaving and entering atmospheres. Her hand had already slung her pack over her shoulder, was already strapping her helmet on when the pilot called back to her over the roar of the engines that had barely slowed down to allow her off.

"We'll see you at the pick up spot in a fortnight! Be careful out there Commander, this place is a war zone!"

She gave her acknowledgement with a grin and her fingers rising to an eye, parting to form the letter "V," before she pulled her pack on better across her shoulders once her helmet was situated. Never far from her side her hands resettled her sword belt at her waist, brushing against the hilt of her falchion, before she quickly exited the craft. They had a short enough window to land; such a planet of barbarians would probably love to capture a Lunar vessel even if they didn't understand the technology behind it.

No, they would probably torch it as spoils of war to their God or whoever it was they were fighting for, since it did bear an effigy of the Queen's mark proudly on the vessel's surface. Her strides were quick, getting away from the ship before she turned to watch it take back off again. The roar of the engines sent the wind sharply picking up, snapping her cloak behind her like a banner. It would have done the same to her long blonde hair had it not been pulled back and carefully tucked up into her helmet. But it didn't save the plume from being sent every which way. Impractical as it was to wear a helmet that allowed for anything to be caught on it, her's had such a plume to identify her standing, as if the rest of her attire would fail to do so.

She ignored the snapping of fabric, watching to make sure some Martian barbarian didn't knock it from the sky before she turned her back to it. If she stared at it any longer, someone would accuse her of attachment. Or maybe that she didn't want to be here. Once the craft was well off it was just the hot breeze that tugged at her garments instead, something far easier to deal with ultimately. The heat was lacking mercy, promising her that if it was not for the fact her armor was crafted of Venusian alloys and meant to be lightweight, she would bake within minutes and die of heat exhaustion soon after. As it were, she could already feel the thin beads of sweat beginning to form; the craft was temperature controlled.

No time at all like the present, she checked her bearings with a compass she pulled from a pouch opposite of her sheathed falchion. That its point spun a few times concerned her distantly but not enough to give her pause since it settled soon enough. All she had to hope for now was that the information she received was correct, that this Priestess was truly in the location said to be. It was then a matter of collecting her, and making their way to the pick up spot, one of the few bastions that remained ultimately neutral to the planet's seemingly never ending conflict. A place that still had transporters flying out and arriving, though they were lessening as the months slipped by. The price of boarding such an escape only grew ever skyward, a real life example of supply and demand at work. The cost though she did not worry about; she had an official writ of travel from the Queen that the massive majority of transports would jump at the chance for payment from such an official.

Her hand raised to shield her eyes, gazing off in the distance the reports said to go. That it was almost a slight frown that overtook her face could have been for anything. Lowering her hand she shook her head lightly, putting the compass away before she began walking. It gave her the chance to adjust her gear as she went, making sure that her falchion was in easy reach, her pack would not kill her back, and her cloak; despite being worn in the oppressive heat, would not get in the way if she had to fight.

By her estimation she should arrive before the real heat of the day overtook the planet. A good thing that, for even if her armor wasn't so finely crafted, even if her garments weren't light in color and weight to help ward off the heat, the heat would leave her for dead. That was the heat of the day, it was far worse at night. Then the temperatures dipped to such an extreme she'd wish she wore a lot more than just the white leather, the bits and pieces of armor, her cloak, even the stupid helmet that despite looking ceremonial, protected against blows just enough that she wore it.

This was all assuming that the Priestess hadn't moved camp. This was all assuming that she did not get waylaid by the roving armies that engulfed most of the planet's surface.

This was indeed, all assuming.