This is the final portion of Bubblegum Collapse.  To those of you who
have taken the time to read, I thank you.  For those of you who have
commented and criticized, I thank you especially.

	To Nightelf, whose help has been indispensible in the development of
this story, I cannot begin to express my thanks.

	This story was without question the most difficult piece of writing I
have ever done.  At times, I did not want to write it, but I felt
compelled... it was as if the story had a will of its own.  Once the
idea struck me, I had to finish it.
	It hurt.  I tend to grow very attached to characters I write, and I
tend to share their emotions.  Sometimes, they reflect upon my soul...
sometimes I feel that I reflect upon them.  Either way, the time in
which I wrote this was a difficult one for me, fraught with difficulties
and despair.  I do believe that the work shows it.
	It is said that one must suffer to write... in this case it was
certainly true.  I hope that the end result is worth it.

	As always, I will list the music which inspired me.

First and foremost : The Bubblegum Crisis Complete Vocal Collection, 		
vols. 1 & 2.
Movie scores : Star Trek VI, by Cliff Eidelman
	       Star Trek II, by James Horner
	       Batman, by Danny Elfman
	       Mission: Impossible, most notably the pieces by Danny 			 Elfman
(esp. during the revisions of the battle scenes)
	

Thank you for taking the time to bear with me on this work.  My next
project, which I have finally settled down to write, is a Bubblegum
Crisis/Batman crossover, which I have entitled Darkest Knights.  (note :
this story will feature an alternate-universe Batman, who is native to
the 2035 setting, and does not involve time-travel).  I expect to have
the first draft ready in mid-December.

Anyway, without further ado...
Stormwalker presents :
	Bubblegum Collapse, part five - At What Cost Victory?

-- 
**********************************************************************
Stormwalker <stormwalker@airmail.net> and <stormer@utdallas.edu>
Computer Science student and Anime fanfic writer (sometimes, anyway)
Storm Warnings - http://web2.airmail.net/a0011387/
"As a matter of fact, I do think I'm Batman, Miss Asagiri."
		     - Batman, "BGC/Batman : Darkest Knights" (draft)
**********************************************************************

     When the end finally came, it came quickly.  Our
suspicions confirmed, we were left with only one option :
the OMS must be destroyed.
     Priss's death left us all numb.  With no time to mourn,
we simply carried on.  More lives than our own hung in the
balance, and if we failed, all humanity might well pay the
price.
     With that thought heavy in our minds, we prepared for
the final battle.

************************************************************
Stormwalker <stormwalker@airmail.net> presents :

                     Bubblegum Collapse

     A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves
************************************************************ 
Part Five - At what cost victory?

     "Can you do it, Nene?" Sylia asked.
     "Yes," she breathed.  The question was moot anyway -- if
she could not, then all was lost.  She had to try.
     "Very well.  The sensor-stealth mode on your hardsuit
should allow you to evade detection entirely during battle."  
   "What if they don't use the OMS?" she asked, worried.     
"They will.  They used it at AD Police headquarters,
and they will use it here."
     "So now we wait."

                      * * * * * * * * *

     We would not have to wait long.  Allowed to move
through the city unchecked, the boomer forces consumed
territory at an incredible rate.  Thousands died, and it was
the most difficult thing we have ever done to allow it.  In
time, though, the enemy would come to us.

                      * * * * * * * * *

     Mackie wore the look of one who was getting ready to
die.  He knew what was coming... that there was no escape. 
The boomers would come, and he would give his life in one
last, desperate attempt to put an end to it all.
     He wondered if they would be remembered, and if they
would be remembered well.  Probably not, he decided.  If
Nene succeeded in her goal, they might well be branded
villains, or even monsters... but it mattered little.  The
survival of the planet was on the line, and other concerns
paled before it.
     He looked back on his short life... not much to see. 
Truthfully, he had always believed his life to be ahead of
him, until now.  He only hoped that he would not sacrifice
that life in vain.

                              
                      * * * * * * * * *

     Christine sat with her head in her hands, trying to
come to terms with her pain.  Tears flowed between the
fingers which covered her face, and the sound of her sobs
would have been clearly audible... had there been anyone
there to hear it.
     She was alone again.  Priss was dead.  Mackie didn't
want to talk to anyone.  Sylia was immersed to her neck in
technical work, and Nene had withdrawn entirely.  Christine
could not blame her.
     All their hopes had been pinned on their young computer
genius, and it was an awesome responsibility.  Nene had
changed; her resolve to complete the task had wholly
possessed her.  Christine wondered to herself if that was
the only way it could be done.  Probably.  She pitied the
young one.  At best or at worst, they faced death.  Nene, on
the other hand, would face the slaughter of all humanity,
should she fail.  Christine felt almost guilty for having the
lesser burden.
     She would certainly die, she realized.  She had come to
terms with it already.  To lead the Knight Sabers into battle
against such a horde was suicide.  She would welcome death,
though.  It would be an end to her suffering at last.  She
looked forward to seeing James again.
     She hoped that the time would come soon.

                      * * * * * * * * *

     "They're coming, Sis," Mackie whispered, waking his
sister.  The critical moment had come.
     Hurriedly, she dressed and went out to meet her family
for the final time.  When she saw the three of them, the
grim resolution in their eyes took away all her words.  For a
moment, she just sat there, holding back tears by force
of will.  In all of her sadness, she was also proud of them.  
   Finally, she spoke.  "It is time.  You know what to do. 
Good luck."
     A long silence enveloped the room, and for a moment
none moved.  Then, slowly, tentatively, Nene stepped forward
and hugged Sylia.  Christine followed suit, and then Mackie
did also.
     Sylia let the tears flow silently, looking at each of
them one last time.  At last, Christine spoke.  "Angels and
ministers of grace defend us," she quoted, then added, "It is
time to make our stand.  Let's go."
     They put on their helmets and went to battle.
                            * * *
     Even without her sensor-stealth, Nene would be very
difficult to find.  With it, she was invisible.
     She had spent the last week preparing for this mission
and all its inevitable result.  She could only hope she was
ready... if it was even possible to be ready for it.  She
had her doubts.
                            * * *
     "Ready, Mackie?" Christine asked.
     "Ready," came the response.
     "All right... they're in range.  You know the plan. 
Knight Sabers, sanjo!"
     With that cry, she leapt from her hiding place. 
Deploying a web at the front of the phalanx, she began to
fire the pulse cannon repeatedly.  One... two... five...
seven boomers fell, the merest scratch among the hundreds,
and they had not even opened fire yet.  Someone was taunting
her.
     She forced down a wave of temper.  The mission demanded
that she live as long as possible, and anger was
counterproductive.
     Suddenly, all the boomers opened fire at once.  Barely
reaching cover, she thought wryly, "Well, you always wanted
to take on the world.  Better make a good show of it."
     After a second, she spun back around the corner and
opened fire again.  Two more boomers dropped before she felt
the hit.
     "Aahhh!" she screamed, feeling as if her side was on
fire.  Realizing that she was losing blood fast, she
determined to strike one final blow.
     Quickly, she opened a panel on the cannon-arm of her
hardsuit.  Pulling out a large pin, she tossed it aside and
turned the knob underneath clockwise.  In her helmet, the
word OVERLOAD began to flash red, and she dragged herself
toward the approaching enemy.
     She managed a savage smile as the words came to her...
she'd seen the old sci-fi flick at least ten times, and it
was SO appropriate.
     "To the last, I will grapple with thee," she whispered.  
   "From Hell's hot, I stab at thee."
     "For hate's sake, I spit my last breath... at thee..."   
  Her world went blinding white, then black.
                            * * *
     Mackie winced at the explosion, which destroyed nearly
thirty boomers... a blaze of glory indeed.
     "My turn," he whispered, bursting from his own hiding
place.  He knew he couldn't last as long as she had, but he
would do his best.
     The enemy opened fire on him immediately, having paid
the price for delay once already.  Laser fire and bullets
blazed on all sides of him, somehow missing him long enough
for him to take out two boomers with the laser.  Hoping to
use the nearest boomers as cover against the others' guns, he
charged in with the sword.  Two more fell before he, too, was
felled.
                            * * *
     "Goodbye, Sis," Sylia heard him gasp then his suit's
transmitter went dead.  Biting her lip until it bled, she
held back the tears.  They would come for her soon enough,
but she was ready.  Only one keystroke remained.
     It took longer than she expected -- apparently the
databank room was better hidden than she thought. 
Nevertheless, they eventually burst in.
     Tapping her finger on the keypad one last time, Sylia
smiled wryly.
     "Destruct sequence initiated." The computer droned.

                      * * * * * * * * *
     
     Nene cried.  Sitting in the underground tunnel, with
her knees pulled up to her chest and her helmet off, she
cried.

                      * * * * * * * * *

     "In the three days since our final battle, the boomers
have swallowed up nearly all of MegaTokyo.  With none to
stop them, they have slaughtered all of her citizens, with
less than a thousand still alive.  Even those are being
hunted down as I speak.
     "This must end.
     "My name is Nene Romanova, and I am the last survivor of
the Knight Sabers.  They gave their lives so that I might
make one last attempt to end this war and save humanity.
     "The Overmind must be destroyed.  I have managed to
determine that it is within MegaTokyo, but further precision
is impossible.
     "If there is a God, may he have mercy on my soul for
what I am about to do.
     "End Transmission."

     Nene wiped away the tears which blurred her vision and
picked up the helmet of her hardsuit.  For a long moment,
she simply stared at it as if it were cursed... haunted by
the ghosts of dead friends.  Finally, she put it on.
     Loading the special program she had prepared for this
event, she began to issue commands to the hardsuit's
computer.
     "Ready." Its monotone voice sounded in her mind.
     "Initiate," she answered aloud.
     "Negotiating with host... connected.  Initiating
takeover procedure.  Authorization code?"
     She started to speak, but the words froze in her
throat.  Closing her eyes, she forced them out, the pain  
tearing at her soul, her voice trembling.  "Linna.  Priss. 
Christine.  Mackie.  Sylia.  Nene."
     "Authorization accepted.  Satellite #064 at your
command."
     "Upload targeting procedure.  Activate beacon," she
whispered, wanting to scream instead.
     "Coordinates locked.  Target : Hardsuit beacon.
     "Set: radius equals two hundred kilometers."
     "Radius set."
     Only one further command need be given.  Squeezing her
eyes tightly shut, she thought, "I'm coming, my friends...
wait for me."
     "Fire."


*****
END.