Well, here's part three.  I appreciate all the comments/criticism 
I've been getting, it's been very helpful.

                  Bubblegum Collision

     A Bubblegum Crisis fanfic by Douglas A. Reeves

PART THREE - Rough Roads

     "What a waste," Linna lamented as they changed back into normal clothes. 
"All that trouble and we didn't get anything out of it."
     "Didn't we?" Sylia asked.  "We no longer have to worry with the
mercenary, at least not for now, and Genom lost their reactor prototype."
     "And all the plans to it," Nene added.  "What little bit of their records I
saw indicated that the only copy was in that computer."
     "And we got to kick a little ass while we were at it," interjected Priss,
actually smiling for once.
     "Also, we got our first look at the new thirty-four CX boomer," continued
Sylia.
     "Those are going to be a real challenge when they start producing them in
numbers, Sylia," Linna pointed out.
     "I know.  At least we may have set them back a little."
     "I hope so."
                   * * * * * * * * *
     "Well, I got what I wanted," Christine smiled wearily as she popped the
seals on the battlesuit.  As usual, Dr. Boston extended his hand to help 
her out, and to his amazement, she actually accepted.
     "You look tired, Chris," he commented, looking her over.
     "Drained is more like it."
     "You did the right thing."
     "Huh?  Oh, that.  It was just instinct.  If I'd thought about it, I 
don't know if I'd have warned them or not.  Maybe it will help settle 
things, though.  I don't need to fight Genom and the Knight Sabers both; 
this is a troublesome fight as it is."
     "Perhaps you should consider joining forces."
     "After I tried to kill them?  I think not."
     He shrugged.   "Whatever.  This is your expertise, not mine.  I just 
thought that they would make a useful ally."
     "Possibly.  Just because we aren't trying to kill each other doesn't mean
we're best of friends.  I still don't like them very much."
                   * * * * * * * * * 
     "All right, Nene.  What did you get?" Sylia inquired
     Grinning, she replied, "All of it."
     "All of it?  Why did you not say so sooner?"
     "Because the design is incomplete."
     Sylia nodded.  "I guess I'd better take a look at it before we celebrate,
then."  Turning to a computer terminal, she had the main system access the
data which was stored in the memory of Nene's hardsuit.  A few seconds later,
a schematic came up on the screen.
      "It's only three-quarters complete," she said, dismayed.  "Still, we might
be able to finish it.  At any rate, it's good that we went in when we did, or
we'd have gotten nothing."
      "If this project was that secret, how did we find out about it?"
      "Need-to-know, Nene.  You know better than to ask questions like that."
      "Sorry.  Well, I have some things to do, so I'd better go."
      "Of course... you did well tonight, Nene."
      "Thanks."
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Getting on her scooter, Nene decided not to go straight home for a 
change.  The night air was cool and comforting, and it soothed her 
restless heart.  As she rode around the streets, she considered the 
recent events in her life.  Stopping at a park, or at least as close to a 
park as Megatokyo got, she just started walking through the trees.
      "Why are you so angry?" she asked herself.  "What, truly, has changed?" 
Looking at her cybernetic hand, which even she could not tell from the real
one, she had to admit that there was not really that much different.  Still, the
knowledge that it WAS artificial smoldered in her heart like an ember that
would not die, waiting to start a new flame.
      Tonight, for the first time, she had really felt the fire, and it 
had hurt her.  Never before had she reveled in violence; never before had 
she wanted to cause pain.  She had heard the ice in her own voice when 
they confronted the mercenary, and she had taken pleasure in it.  Now, 
the knowledge brought her only pain.  
      "You did well tonight, Nene," Sylia's voice echoed in her mind.  Was
anger the cost of victory?  Did true success require the sacrifice of peace? 
"No!" her mind rebelled at the thought, but still the question haunted her.
      Many hours passed before she found her way home, and even then, her
sleep was consumed with nightmares.
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Christine, too, was facing new questions.  For the first time in 
her life, she had seen something she had always known... that which had 
been business to her was personal to others.  For three years, she had 
spent her life hunting down people for money, deriving her pleasure from 
the challenge of the hunt and the trial of combat.  Most of the time, 
they had been people who deserved death, at the very least.  Often, the 
death she brought was less than they deserved.  This, however, was not 
always the case.
      In the past, her victims had never come back to haunt her.  Most of the
time, she never even saw the people she had killed.  She found herself
regretting her tap onto the Knight Saber's communications this night.  Their
scrambling was good... almost indecipherable, but she had managed to capture
a few words.  One of those words was a name.
     Nene.
     It had not taken much effort for her to assign an identity to that 
name.  She had determined the first time that the one she had wounded was their
electronics specialist, and once she eliminated those who lacked the 
ability, she had found what she sought. Immediately, she wished she 
hadn't looked.
     "Why did I have to hurt the young one?" she asked, looking at the bio on
the screen in front of her.  The comments on her police file were glowing; her
personality evaluation spoke of youthful innocence and vitality.  The voice she
had heard this night held none of that.  "Dear Lord, what have I done?"
     "An attack of conscience, Chris?" a soft, familiar voice sounded from the
doorway.  Angered by his choice of words, she wanted to strike at him, but
found she lacked the will to do it.  Turning to face him, she saw only concern
in his eyes.  Almost unwillingly, she nodded.
      "Please forgive me for saying this, but this had to happen 
eventually.  You aren't hardened enough for the job you do, thankfully."
      "It's not that...," she protested, indicating the screen.  "She's 
just so young."
      "And she reminds you of yourself."
      Christine hesitated.   "Yes," she whispered.
      "And you would never willingly push anyone to what you have become."
      Christine froze.  "You... know?"
      "That you long for a normal life?  An escape from your anger?  Chris, I
could never have not known.  I remember when you were the innocent child,
before the accident, before the hatred.  I remember the pain when your life fell
apart.  I wanted to help you... but you wouldn't let me."
      A tear formed in her eye.  "I know.  I'm sorry."
      He put his arms around her.  "I love you, Chris.  I've never said it, but
it's always been true."
      Crying softly, she held him close.  He sat with her long into the night.
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Priss clicked on the television, and the late, late news was on.  
"Well, let's see what they have to say about our little adventure 
earlier."  Several minutes of weather and stock-market reports passed, 
then they came around to the real news.
      "Earlier tonight, flames consumed a Genom research facility just outside
of Megatokyo.  The blaze, which began at approximately eleven o'clock,
completely destroyed the complex, an alternative-energy research station. 
Genom claims that the fire was caused by a power spike in one of the
laboratories, but eyewitnesses report that several armored figures were visible
on the roof shortly after the blaze began.  Could this be the work of the 
elusive Knight Sabers, or is it possibly a retaliation attack for the 
assault on the Stevenson estate last week?  AD Police officials declined 
to comment on the situation, saying only that an investigation is underway."
      "Well, looks like we're going to get blamed for this one.  Genom says it
was an  alternative-energy research facility' this time."
      "That's closer to the truth than they usually get," Linna laughed. 
"Besides, we already get blamed for everything that happens in this city.  I
don't think anyone believes it anymore, or else the AD Police would be after
us."
      "Good thing we have an inside contact there."
      "That's for certain.  I'm worried about her, though.  She seems...
different."
      "Angry?"
      "Yes, but more than that... she was very cold tonight."
      "She'll get over it."
      "You haven't yet."
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Alone in the databank room, Sylia studied the reactor designs, looking for
ways to fill the gaps.  The reactor itself was all there, but the coolant system
was mostly absent, and the demands upon it would be very high.  Still, if she
could put together a system up to the task, the power increase would be over
50% from their existing systems.  Nene had done well indeed.
      "Nene..." she whispered as her thoughts turned to the young woman who
had made this possible.  Images flashed through her mind at lightning speed,
images and sounds to match.  There was no mistaking the cold hatred in
Nene's voice when they had confronted Miss Stevenson.  The anger had been
visible in battle, as well.  Quite possibly, it had saved them at least once, as
Nene's aggression surprised the boomers.  Still, Sylia was concerned about the
reckless manner of Nene's attacks; on more than one occasion, she had
completely neglected her own defense, unnecessarily.  Tonight it had been
successful, but tomorrow it could be fatal.  Clearly, this was a matter that
needed to be addressed.
      Pulling up another file, Sylia examined the readouts.  Nene's hardsuit was
crammed with electronic warfare gear, so much so that even the power of her
suit's arm-laser had been reduced from standard to accommodate.  It might be
possible to increase the level of armor, but more than a slight increase would
impair her movement and was unacceptable.
      "Perhaps if..." she thought, an idea beginning to form in her head, 
and she immediately copied the file for modification.  "It just might work."
                   * * * * * * * * *
      "James?" Christine asked as she looked through the files she had
downloaded the previous night.
      "Yes?" he responded, walking over to the terminal.
      "What do you make of this?" she asked, pointing to set of computer
instructions in one of the files.
      "That's a back door, Chris," he responded, suddenly much more interested.
      "That's what I thought," she smiled.  "If we can decode that, it could be
useful."
      "If it's included in any more of their systems.  Remember, the 
computer you got this from is ashes now."
      "I think I know where it might work."  Tapping a few keys, she pulled up
her directory.  "Ah, there it is."
      "Another research facility?"
      "I was trying to crack this one long before Genom got on my bad side.  I
know this is where some of their weapons design is done, through a mole I
once had, but I haven't been able to get in."
      "I see.  You know if you get caught, they'll pin it to the company."
      Christine sighed.  "That's true.  I guess I'll have to sit on this 
for a while.  Still, it's nice to know I have it, just in case."
      "What else did you get?"
      "This," she smiled again as she keyed up another file.
      Dr. Boston whistled.  "Tech data on the new Genom modular weapons-mount
system... that could be useful."
      "This is one of the two major innovations of the thirty-four CX 
boomer.  It allows them to mount several different combinations of 
weapons for different missions, all exchangeable in a matter of minutes."
      "Impressive."
      "Unfortunately, yes," Christine frowned.  "This is going to present a real
challenge for us.  It won't be so easy to tell what's coming anymore."
      "How long until the new type goes into general production?"
      "Not long enough."
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Smiling, Sylia looked over Nene's newly modified hardsuit.  In
appearance it was almost identical to its predecessor, but the new version was
significantly improved.  A new shell material improved its performance against
all forms of physical attack with only a minor weight gain, and boosting the
strength-enhancers in the limbs would more than compensate.  The energy- 
deflection qualities were slightly reduced, but given Nene's new tendency 
for close-in fighting, Sylia considered that an acceptable trade-off.  
Still, another layer of the energy-reflective coating might be worth the  
additional weight; she would have to consider it.
      The major deficiency of this suit was still in the area of 
weapons.  Nene's laser was really too small to do real damage to a 
boomer's armor, but there was simply no room inside the shell for it.  
Even if the space could be found, the electronics of the armor used up 
most of the reactor power
      Therein lay the difficulty; Nene's hardsuit was not designed for direct
combat.  From the time she had signed on with the Knight Sabers, she had
always shied from battle, and her suit reflected that.  Packed as tightly as
possible with electronics, it had little room for anything else.  Seeing 
the need for some weapon, simply to provide defense, Sylia had squeezed in the
reduced-power laser, but an upgrade was out of the question.
     One possible solution had occurred to her.  If another member of the team
could handle part of Nene's responsibilities, it would free up space for 
a larger weapon.  Unfortunately, none of the others was qualified to do 
any of the tasks which could be reassigned.  Even Sylia herself could not 
adequately handle all of them, and certainly not in addition to her own tasks.
      This realization had brought Sylia to a new respect for Nene.  The
youngest of the Knight Sabers possessed a remarkable intelligence and an
amazing affinity for computer systems.  She was indeed an invaluable asset,
and had proven herself so many times over.  Also, Sylia cared for her
especially among her "family".  Her youthful exuberance took some of the
weight out of Sylia's responsibilities and helped her to appreciate life
sometimes.  When the temptation to put away all her emotions was strong, it
was usually Nene who would save her.
      With those thoughts, Sylia resolved that she would solve this problem. 
She would not see Nene harmed again; she would not fail her again.  She
would find a way - of this she was certain.
                   * * * * * * * * *
      Christine was alone.  While not exactly unusual in and of itself, 
this fact seemed particularly apparent to her, in a way that it had not 
in years.  The solitude was almost tangible; it felt as if it had crept 
up on her and wrapped itself around her like an old blanket.
      There was once a time when she would have liked this feeling.  She had
always been prone to dark moods, though much less so before her parents died,
and over the years she had come to savor them.  It was at times like these
when they came... alone, in an unlit bedroom, where she had nothing to do but
think.
      Introspection was sometimes pleasant for her.  There were certainly things
about herself that she liked; she had drive, determination, and 
intelligence; she was confident in her own abilities, and she had enjoyed 
her work.  At other times, though, it was painful.  Dark memories haunted 
her; the death of her parents had seared her heart.  She knew that she 
could be cold, and cruel.  She had dreams of her own death, lying in the 
remains of her shattered armor and wondering if she had wasted her life.  
This  time, it was the latter case.
     The questions came again; "Why do I do this?" she asked herself.  The old
familiar answer came, but it now rang hollow.  The voice of the young Knight
Saber replaced it, accusing her.  Her own words followed, "Dear Lord, what
have I done?"  Darkness closed in around her, threatening to consume her.  She
started to scream-
     -And sat bolt upright in her bed.  Breathing heavily, she gasped, "It was
only a dream... only a dream..."  Tapping her bedside intercom, she asked,
"James?"
      "Yes, Chris?" came the response.
      "Good, he's awake," she thought, then asked, "Can we talk for a few
minutes?"
      Sensing the tension in her voice, he answered, "Anytime you like."
      "Thanks."
                   * * * * * * * * *
      It took several hours, but eventually she went back to sleep.  As she
prepared for bed, she began to realize that perhaps she cared for the doctor
more than she had realized.  Plenty of time for that in the morning, though, she
thought, drifting off to sleep.
      She awoke with a start - the alarm had been triggered!  Looking out the
window, she couldn't see anything suspicious, but she ran down towards the
garage anyway.  Just as she entered the last hallway, the door was blown
inward, the blast wave throwing her backwards.  Climbing to her feet, she
sprinted to the now ruined garage.
      "JAMES!" she screamed, seeing him collapsed against one of the walls. 
Running to him as quickly as possible through the debris, she knelt beside him. 
Seeing that she had come, he raised his head.  His eyes were glazed, and blood
trickled out of his mouth as he opened it to speak.
      "Chris... I love you... I always have.   Never forget."
      "No, James... I love you... they can't take you away, too!" she cried in
desperation.
      "I... love... you," he managed, then slumped forward.
      Looking at the extent of his wounds, she immediately knew she could 
not save him.  Holding his hand in hers, she just sat there and wept.

END PART THREE
      


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Stormwalker <temporarily at pingley@post.cis.smu.edu>
"Chaos is a good thing"
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