The following contains characters that aren't mine. The disclaimer is
one you should all know by now.

"Old Scars" Part 2: 
Part 2:

	Priss Asagari feared almost nothing. She had faced down Boomer, powered
armor and possessed sports cars with equal ease. Performing in front of
a crowd of drunk and armed punks didn't bother her. But as she stood
before Sylia in the common room of the Knight Sabers' HQ, she felt a
tiny tremor of fear. Not that she would've told anyone.
	"Where did you disappear to last night?" Sylia asked, not accusingly or
patronizingly, even though Priss was certain she already knew.
	"I got a little sidetracked," Priss muttered, angry at herself for
being intimidated by her boss. 
	"You were gone for 16 minutes longer than any of the other girls, you
were down a rail gun round and there were signs of damage on the suit. I
was under the assumption you understood the hard suits were not toys."
	Priss stared straight ahead, ignoring the giggles that broke out from
the back of the room. Sylia silenced Nene with a glance, obviously
taking the whole event seriously.
	"However," she said after a moment of silence, "You found something
very interesting during your little escapade. Screen on," she called out
to the computer behind her. A still frame of the black power suit was
displayed on the large flat screen against the wall. The screen played
the entire incident back, up until the moment when the ninja blinded
Priss.
	"Wow, you got tricked pretty easily there, Priss-chan," Lina commented
from her seat on the couch. 
	"Shut up," Priss told the other woman, obviously annoyed at the
comment.
	"This suit is nearly the equal of our own models, and obviously very
advanced. The little data we managed to get from your sensors shows us
how fast it is. We can also infer that it has powerful ECM technology
and a capable pilot."
	"Its awfully fast," Nene said timidly. "Maybe it's a boomer."
	"Its not a boomer," Priss said, her mood souring.
	"I agree. The movements are far too human for anything short of a
second generation of boomers, and all of those have been accounted for.
And I doubt anyone could program a boomer to fool Priss so easily,"
Sylia added, smiling slightly as Priss bristled. "Its definitely a power
suit of some kind. And I want to know everything about it. Who made it,
why, when, where and how. And above all, I want to know what it's owner
or owners want with Tachibana."
	"I take it we're on a mission now?" Lina asked.
	"We'll all be getting some money courtesy of Tachibana labs. Priss:
you're on patrol for another Tachibana incident. Lina, you'll be
supporting Priss. Nene, I want to know what happened with the break in.
On top of that, I want to know as much about the Tachibana corporation
as I can. Mackie and I will analyze the data that Priss managed to get
on the suit."
	The room was silent for a moment as the Knight Sabers digested Sylia's
words. It was Priss who broke the silence. "Why do you think he's doing
it?" she asked.
	"He?" Sylia asked, drawing some comments from Lina and Nene. 
	"What's the matter Priss, got men on the brain?" Nene asked.
	"Shut up," Priss barked, knowing full well she'd be hearing about her
slip up for a week. "You know what I mean. Compared to Genom, Tachibana
is a nice company."
	"You mean do I think its just another example of industrial espionage?"
	Priss nodded.
	"I don't see how it could be otherwise. Power suits are extremely
difficult to maintain, not to mention expensive and time consuming."
	"I guess," Priss muttered. "I still think something isn't quite right."

	Around noon the shakes hit. He was slaving over the memory core, trying
to dig some more data out of it when his hand seized, crunching the
micrometer he held in his hand. The shakes quickly spread across his arm
and into his back. He grimaced, reaching below the table.
	His hand came back up with the plastic bottle of rum, which he managed
to take a long pull from after several false starts. Some of the rum ran
down his face, but in a few seconds the alcohol muted the noise racing
up and down his neurons. He noted grimly that it took more liquor this
time.
	"Matthew, Matthew, what are we going to do now?" he asked himself. He
looked away from the work table in disgust. Matthew knew he wasn't going
to get anything else out of those goddamn cores. He'd seen all of it any
way. 
	He looked across the shop at the throne and the black suit that sat on
it. The suit had been his only real companion for the last six years. It
was older than that though, nearly seven, he thought, a sense of almost
paternal pride filling him. 
	Of course, it also reminded him of the suit's birth. How stupid I was,
he thought bitterly. He stripped off the sweatshirt and walked to the
suit. "I wonder what you'd be like if none of that happened," he asked,
feeling foolish as soon as the words left his mouth. He sat in the suit,
giving the command to activate.
	The legs wrapped around his own, fitting together in a complex pattern.
The micromotors hummed for a moment as they tested themselves, while the
chest piece slid across Matthew's front. They clicked together with a
hint of finality that Matthew had never managed to get rid off. The arms
melded, under level of memory polymer shifting shapes as the electrical
current directed it. The armor plate followed shortly, and Matthew felt
the reassuring feeling of the neural feedback system activate. He
reached across to his helmet, really feeling the movement of the arm.
The suit's computer worked directly with his nervous system, suggesting
courses of movement for greatest efficency.
	It was a bit like having another nervous system, running in parallel
with his own. He clicked the helmet on, watching as the room was painted
on his retina, full spectrum, by a pair of lasers. The HUD gave him a
full diagnostic, told him how much battery time was left and how many
rounds were loaded in the wrist guns. He looked to the box resting
quietly across the room. There was no need for that. The dust on the box
suggested there hadn't been one in a long time.
	He stood, the power of his suit giving him a brief adrenaline rush. The
he activated the cloak and left. Tachibana had some more answers for
him, somewhere. All he had to do was look.

	"I HATE rain," Lina yelled as she sprinted across the street to her
car. The little van beeped as Lina used the remote keys to open it.
Shaking off as much water as she could she started the car.
	She merged into traffic, finding the nearest on ramp to Mega Tokyo's
all ready over burdened overpass. Nothing like the traffic to improve
your mood, she thought bitterly. She ignored the whine of the electric
and cut across, trying desperately to get to the fastest lane. 
	Suddenly an explosion rang out from one of the high rise buildings that
butted up to the overpass. Glancing at it, she noticed a firefight
raging on one of the floors. Looking for more information she glanced at
the building's flashing sign. Microsoft, it read. 
	Sighing, she assumed it was probably unrelated. As these things often
go, it was anything but.

End Part 2
	Well, part two is done (like you couldn't tell that from the line
above) and I feel a bit intimidated in submitting it. I mean, Andrew
Huang and Lara Bartram both have Eva fics on the ML and here I am
sputtering around with a BGC  fic. I hope this part has addressed the
C&C from the part before, and shown a bit of what I have planned. These
things are taking much longer than I expected, but the ideas are still
there. This shouldn't get drawn out too much, but I expect about five or
six more parts. Damn, rambling.

Jerico Mele is a wholly own product of Genom and should be treated as
such. Buy yours today!!

www.brandeis.edu/~jmele
jmele@brandeis.edu

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