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

                  Bubblegum Collision

   A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves


Part Three - Rough Roads

     "What a waste," Linna lamented as they changed back to
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 glimpse of the new thirty-four CX
boomer," continued Sylia.
     "Those are going to be real trouble 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 troublesome enough as it stands."
     "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 the best of friends.  I still don't think they
care for me much."

                   * * * * * * * * *

     "All right, Nene.  What did you get."
     "Enough to see that we can't use it."
     Sylia nodded.  "I'll take a look at it anyway, but I
suspected that would be the case.  Still, we had to try."
     "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 could manage, 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 difference.  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. Images of the moment that she was wounded,
the sting of pain, the satisfaction of destroying a boomer... the
sensations flooded her mind, and she could not shut them out.
     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 which she had always
known - that which was 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. 
Usually, she never even saw them.  She found herself regretting
her tap into the Knight Sabers' communications this night.  Their
scrambling was good... almost indecipherable, but she had managed
to capture a few words.  One of these was a name.
     Nene.
     It had not taken much effort 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 herself
desperately, 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 those.  "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 she found she lacked the will to do
so. 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 a child."
     "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, a fiery explosion 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 fires broke
out.  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."
     "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 in the gaps.  The reactor
itself was all there, but the coolant system was mostly absent,
and the demands upon it would be very high.  It seemed that Nene
was right... the system was useless to them.
     "Nene..." she whispered as her thoughts turned to the young
woman who had made this possible.  Images flashed through her
mind at lightning speed, sights and sounds to match.  There was
no mistaking the cold hatred in Nene's voice when they had
confronted Miss Stevenson.  "Stevenson... didn't she have another
name?  Ah, well.. I can come back to that later." 
     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 mind, 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.     "Take
a look at this," she said, indicating the blueprints she had
pulled up on the screen.
     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 class.  It allows them to mount several different
combinations of weapons for different missions, all
interchangeable 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 as significantly improved.  A new shell material
improved its performance against all forms of physical attack
with only a minor mass 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 toward 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
a larger one.  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 and power 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 work.
     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, familiar 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 had 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 over the years.  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 visions 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?"
     "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 thought. 
Plenty of time for that in the morning, though, she decided,
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 chamber.
     "JAMES!" she screamed, seeing him collapsed against one of
the walls.  Running to him as quickly as she could manage through
the debris, she knelt beside him.  Seeing that she had come, he
raised his head.  His eyes were glazed, and blood trickled from
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 him, she immediately knew that she could not save him. 
Holding his hand in hers, she just sat there and wept. 

******************
END PART THREE
******************
-- 
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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)
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