Linna's death left us all stunned. We had known all
along that something like that might happen, but there is no
preparing for such a loss.
Priss simply couldn't handle it. She felt responsible,
and the pain drained away all of her will to fight.
Truthfully, I think it took away her will to live.
The war did not stop for us to mourn, though. It raged
on, consuming larger and larger segments of the megalopolis,
taking more lives with each passing day. With our hope
fading, and our spirits low, we returned to the battle.
************************************************************
Stormwalker <stormwalker@airmail.net> presents...
Bubblegum Collapse
A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves
************************************************************
Part Three - Carrying On
The leadership of the Knight Sabers was the worst job
Christine could imagine. She had never desired it, and now
that she had it she wanted it even less. The burden of
responsibility for those under her command was heavier than
she could ever have thought, especially in such a desperate
hour. The fact that her small band of three was the sole
hope for the survival of MegaTokyo made it even more
difficult.
How could they fight, she wondered. Nene, for all her
improved skill, was no warrior. Mackie was little better
due to lack of training.
Mackie... how could she lead the youth into battle?
How could she make decisions with his life on the line? She
had no experience in command, and the enormity of the task
she was faced with overwhelmed her.
Walking through the darkened hallways of the Sabers'
headquarters, she found her way into the hardsuit storage
chamber. There, before her, were the symbols of the two who
had gone before. Sylia, the perfect leader if there could
ever be such a thing. She had the resolve, the courage, and
even the compassion necessary for the job. Her fantastic
intelligence gave rise to tactical superiority, and her
drive gave them a common goal. Yet, she had been crippled,
and could command no more. The job had passed on.
Christine's eyes wandered to the dark blue hardsuit
next to Sylia's silver one. Priss. Thrust, as Christine
herself was being, into the leadership role against her
desires, she had nevertheless done well. The strain was too
much for her, though, and when Linna had fallen, Priss
finally snapped. "She is so much like me," Christine
thought. "Is that to be my fate as well?"
Truthfully, Christine could not blame with her
predecessor. Nobody blamed Priss for Linna's death, but she
nevertheless felt that it was her fault. Christine
desperately hoped that she would never know that feeling
herself. The nightmares were bad enough... to live them
would be more than she could bear.
Finally, her gaze travelled to the active suits, and
her own jet-black armor. Scarcely visible in the dim room
except for two silver stripes at the shoulders, it seemed
more like a haunting shadow, a reminder of the trials ahead.
She would have to don that suit again soon, and then the
test would begin.
* * * * * * * * *
Mackie carefully examined the red and gold hardsuit
which he called his own. It was, as all of them, a work of
art, at once beautiful and terrifyingly deadly. He had worn
powered armor before... but not like this.
He had always expected to truly join the Knight Sabers
some day. Almost from the beginning he had helped them in
any way he could--driving the truck, flying the KnightWing--
just to be a part of this group. He had anticipated it
being a happy day for him, but now the memories of such hope
left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He had ascended, but
only with the fall of another.
He had probably known Linna least of them all, but
still he was in shock from her death. He had considered
them invincible; they had been through so much that it
seemed nothing could harm them. Linna's death had been a
crushing blow to his naivete. Now, he would have to fight,
as all of them did, for his very survival.
A shiver passed through his body at such thoughts, and
he realized that he was not as ready for this as he had once
believed.
* * * * * * * * *
Priss was not one to listen to the music of others--she
preferred her own. Still, there were times when it simply
would not come, and she kept a small stack of discs for when
she needed them. She needed them now.
Selecting one, a single song only, she slipped it into
the machine and lay down on the bed. It began quietly, then
slowly built up volume and speed until the driving beat
began to lift even her overburdened soul. Then the words
started.
The first part of the verse spoke of death, and with it
came the heartache. Nevertheless, she had chosen this one
for a reason, and it soon began to speak to her.
"The faster I run, the more it seems like
buildings are going to fall on me,
and I bite my lip and tough it out,
until the storm subsides.
"Say Yes! I just live hotter than yesterday...
Say Yes! ...because I've known loneliness that I
couldn't do anything about.
Say Yes! Answer me if you can hear me saying.
"I can be, I can do, I can sing, I can live."
Priss began to cry, something else that she was not
known for. More than the guilt, more than the anger, more
than anything else, she just felt the pain. She had lost a
friend--one of precious few--again.
Perhaps that was why she had chosen this song. Vision
had lost a sister, and had yet risen above. The words came
from the soul, and Priss could hold on to what they said to
her. And yet... she almost felt as if they were being spoken
by someone else altogether.
"Say Yes! I want to believe deeply that freedom...
"Say Yes! ... is more becoming to us than sorrow.
"Say Yes! I hope these words will reach you, now that
you're far away from me:
"You can be, you can do, you can sing, you can live."
The song played on for a while, finally fading out.
Slowly picking herself up from the bed, Priss sighed
wearily. Maybe she really did want to live, after all.
Certainly Linna would want her to.
* * * * * * * * *
Sylia keyed in the final instruction sequence which
would begin construction of the improved hardsuits, shut
down the computer, and left the databank room. If anyone
had been there to witness, she would have seemed almost
ghostly in her movements. Certainly she felt dead inside.
She was weary, physically as well as emotionally. The act
of completing the hardsuit modifications had taken all of
her willpower in a time when even she was tempted to give
in, and now that it was done she felt as though she were an
empty shell, with all the life drained out.
The Knight Sabers needed for her to be strong, more
than ever, but she was no longer sure that she could. She
had lost a part of her soul when Linna died, and the
emptiness overwhelmed her. Even Priss, for all her
tenacity, had been broken this time... how could she hope to
stand?
She did not know... but even as she drifted toward
despair she knew that she would not fall. Somehow, she
managed to hold on through each trial, and she would do so
again. Even if it killed her.
* * * * * * * * *
Despair. Add another to the list of new emotions Nene
had been introduced to over the past two months. Anger,
hatred, and sorrow had taken their turn with her, and she
had withstood the assault. She was stronger now.
She worried. Without Linna and Priss, the Knight
Sabers were a weak fighting force, at best; by contrast, the
boomers grew stronger with each passing day. Struggling to
hold on to a fragile hope, she found that it was slowly
slipping from her grasp.
Why had Priss deserted them in their hour of need? How
could she just walk away? Nene wanted to be angry, wanted to
lash out... and found that she could not. Nevertheless, she
felt betrayed... no, abandoned.
Looking at a picture on the wall, she was drawn to a
happier time--a time when Sylia was whole, and so was she. A
time when she could laugh at Priss's cynicism, instead of
seeing the truth in it. A time when Linna would tease her
for her innocence and her romantic notions. Tears came to
her eyes... where had that time gone?
Sylia was crippled. Priss had walked away, unable to
deal with the pain. Linna... was gone. Forever. Of the
original Knight Sabers, only she remained to carry on the
battle. Still, she would fight, she determined. To the end,
one way or the other.
* * * * * * * * *
Christine sighed as she looked over the computer map of
MegaTokyo. Red flags littered the map, marking the boomers'
most recent gains in territory. Thousands of lives had
already been lost, and the carnage was not likely to end
soon.
"They don't seem to have any weak points," she
commented.
"Agreed," Sylia nodded. "We must find one, though. We
lack the power to attack where they are strong."
"Tell me about it," Christine muttered, wondering if it
was in fact a lost cause. Still, a stubborn voice inside
her refused to concede, to admit defeat. She had never
given up in her life, and she did not want to start then.
Glancing over the map, her eyes lit on a segment of the
frontier.
"What about there?" she pointed.
Sylia checked the coordinates and fed them into the
computer. The city disappeared, replaced by a close-up view
of the immediate area. Red lines marked the boomers'
advance, which looked to be very rapid for the small forces
present.
"They're being careless," Christine observed. "Not
securing territory the way the other groups are."
"Indeed," Sylia affirmed. "A quick strike might force
them to relinquish some of that unsecured domain."
Christine nodded. "Exactly. There are probably still
people alive there, too. Let's hit them while we can."
* * * * * * * * *
"Knight Sabers, sanjo!" Christine shouted, falling back
on the familiar battlecry. Resurgent doubts in her ability
to lead crowded her mind, but as she threw herself into the
midst of battle she was able to force them back. "Jamming?"
she prompted.
"Active," Nene responded. "Twelve boomers... will take
them about 20 seconds to burn through."
"Right. Choose your shots carefully--hit the
thirty-fours first."
"Right with you," Mackie responded as he fired his arm
cannon at one of the newer boomers. An exact copy of the
weapon in Priss's now-unused hardsuit, it was more than
adequate to the task, destroying the cyberdroid in a single
shot. "One down."
"Make that two," Christine corrected as her pulse
cannon claimed another of the mechanical soldiers. "We've
got them disoriented--strike fast!"
Nene checked the timer on her ECM systems and charged
at a nearby boomer. Levelling her laser at it, she fired
several shots. It turned to face her and opened fire, but
she had already gone to the air. Falling behind the
machine, she turned and buried her laser in the back of its
neck. Sparks flew when she fired, and it fell.
"Three seconds..." she counted off as she prepared to
deactivate the jammers. "Two... one... now!" A warning
chime sounded in her helmet, indicating that the boomers had
adapted to her countermeasures, and she shut them down.
"Ok, watch yourselves," Christine cautioned. "Now it
gets rough."
It was an accurate assessment. Where their adversaries
had been disoriented before, unable to mount a resistance,
they now began to fight back with distinctly inhuman
savagery. Christine was the farthest forward of the Knight
Sabers, and immediately she was in danger of being
overwhelmed by the surge of boomers.
"Hang on, Christine, I'm coming!" Mackie called out,
seeing her falling back in the face of the tide. Charging
toward her, he picked out a boomer near the apex of the
counterstrike. Firing two HEAP rounds, he smiled as the
target exploded brilliantly.
The boomers were momentarily stunned by the explosion
in their midst, and their advance was slowed. It was
enough, as Christine levelled her pulse cannon and dealt a
crushing blow to a second target. Bringing up her other
arm, she fired an energy web at the two boomers which still
dared to press her, and then used her jump unit to leap
clear.
Nene had her difficulties, too, but she was holding
her own by sheer force of will. Refusing to back down, she
quickly downed two boomers; one fell to the scrambler, and
the other to her arm laser. "Seven down."
"We've got them now! Don't let them escape!"
"Escape?" Nene thought, then realized that the boomers
were indeed turning to flee. "Why are they running? They
still have us outnumbered!"
"Right," Mackie responded to Christine's order and
tagged another 34-CX with the cannon. Boomer parts rained
on the battlefield as the cyberdroid exploded more violently
than usual. "Got the artillery unit!" he shouted with a
grin. He was beginning to enjoy this.
"So you did," Christine answered as she triggered her
jump unit and soared above the routed boomers. Firing her
second web, she smiled as the boomers tried to fight their
way free. It was a futile effort, and in a few short
moments the battle was done.
"Good job. If I'm right, there should be still be
people alive around here. Let's get them out."
"Right!" Nene and Mackie agreed.
* * * * * * * * *
The evacuation of the area proceeded quickly, mainly
because there were not very many people to evacuate. Still,
Christine was glad to have saved some.
When they arrived back at their headquarters, though,
the appraisal of the overall situation was sobering. In the
time it had taken them to rescue a few, hundreds of others
had died throughout the city. Slowly but unceasingly, the
AD Police were forced to relinquish more territory to the
boomers, and there was little hope of stopping the flood.
The boomers had learned, Sylia realized. Where once
they had been simple, ragtag bands, they now behaved more
like true battle units. They had closed the gaps in their
deployment, improved the distribution of units across the
frontier, and the precision with which they struck was
frightening.
She had underestimated their ability to adapt, she
realized. Or had she? If these things were happening all
over the world...
Smiling slightly for the first time in weeks, she went
to talk to Nene. Perhaps they could put an end to this
after all.
END PART THREE
