_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Christine Stevenson was dead; there was no
debate on the matter. She was known to be in her mansion at the time of the
fire, and it was known that neither she nor Dr. James Boston had escaped when
the flames consumed the building. Three days later, funerals were held for the
two of them on the grounds of the estate.
When her lawyers went to execute her Will,
many people were stunned at how freely she had distributed her wealth. Having
no known heir, she had given large sums of money and property, seemingly
randomly, to individual citizens of Megatokyo. In fact, it seemed that the only
pattern in the gifts was that none of them were given to employees of Genom.
Among the beneficiaries of the heiress's
generosity was a young officer of the AD Police by the name of Nene Romanova.
She was surprised when she received an envelope from Miss Stevenson’s lawyers,
and she would be more surprised later when she opened it. The contents included
some legal documents and a note.
“Miss Romanova,
I am truly sorry for the pain that I have caused you. If you
have received this, it is likely that I will never be able to convey
my apology in person, so please accept this means as the best I may
offer. I realize that this is a small compensation for your pain, but
it is the best that I can give.
With your signature, the enclosed documents will transfer
Fifty-one percent of the Stevenson, Inc. stock to your name. I hope
that you will find it useful.
Admittedly, I have an ulterior motive in bestowing this particular gift
upon you.
I feel confident that you will not allow it to fall into the hands of
Genom;
this is a fate which I would not wish to befall the corporation my
father built.
I trust that you will not grant our mutual enemy such a boon.
Again, I truly and deeply regret the day that I harmed you, and
while I doubt that you will forgive me, I hope that you may at least
find some comfort in this gift.”
Sincerely,
Christine Ann Stevenson
(a.k.a. Starblade)
Upon reading this note, Nene nearly dropped
the envelope. Once she had recovered her composure, she immediately phoned
Sylia, who said she would be there shortly to help her decipher the paperwork.
* * * * * * * * *
The very next day, Sylia found an ad of
interest in her morning newspaper. It was encoded, but the code was relatively
simple. Sitting down at her computer, she had deciphered it within a few
minutes.
To the Knight Sabers,
I wish to speak with you. I may be found at my new home, which
is not far from my old, anytime after midnight. The matter is urgent.
Starblade
* * * * * * * * *
As the clock struck one, Starblade found
her gaze drawn to the tombstone beside her. It was an odd feeling to gaze at
one’s own grave, she reflected, but she considered it appropriate. Indeed,
everything that had been Christine Stevenson had died in that explosion, her life
slowly bleeding from the wounds of the only friend she had ever known.
Looking down at her scarred armor, the only
thing she had salvaged from her home, she realized that it was truly all she
had left. Here, she would gamble even that on the possibility of more.
The minutes passed slowly, seeming as
hours, until the chimes sounded again at one fifteen. It was then that her
scanner registered the approach of her former enemies. After another tense
moment, she could see them approach. Once they stood before her, she extended
her arms in a gesture of non-aggression and popped the seals on her suit.
Once she was free of the armor, she stood
and faced the white-suited one she knew was their leader.
“So, you do yet live,” Sylia addressed her
softly.
“If you can call this a life,” was her
embittered reply.
“Why did you call for us?”
“I wish to join you.”
The silence spoke more than any words
could. Only Sylia was not shocked by the request - indeed, she had expected it
- and she was not given to rash speech. After a moment, she responded, “We will
have to discuss this matter among ourselves, you understand.”
“I understand,” Starblade responded, her
voice taking on a somber tone. “Please, though, decide quickly. I will wait
here each night until you return.”
* * * * * * * * *
“Absolutely not!” Nene screamed. “Surely
you do not trust this... this... BITCH not to betray us!”
“Calm yourself, Nene,” Sylia interrupted
firmly, her voice as ice.
“Why do you assume that she would turn on
us, Nene?” Priss shot back. “You just don't like her!”
Nene rolled her eyes. “She already tried to
kill us all once!”
“Yes, and she was hired to do that--”
"By GENOM!" Nene cut her off.
“Who then proceeded to stab her in the
back. She bears as strong a grudge against them as any of us. She also saved
our lives, if you don’t remember,” Priss answered, her voice rising.
“Priss, it goes double for you,” Sylia
chastised. “Calm down. I can see both of your positions on the issue... there
is no need to shout. What do you think, Linna?”
“It is difficult to say. My personal
feelings say no, but if I am objective I think I have to say yes.”
Sylia nodded. “She brings many valuable
things to us as a team, should we admit her. She is a competent fighter, her
understanding of powered armor and the relevant technology is superb, if my
research is correct, and she gives us access to new weapons and armor
improvements which could potentially be incorporated into our own designs.”
“Exactly,” Priss cut in. “I think Nene's
just pissed to find out she’s still alive.”
“Priss!” Sylia glared at her.
“I am NOT!” Nene insisted, but a quiet
voice in her mind asked, ‘Am I? Do I hate her that much?’
“And I thought I was the angry one here,”
Priss sighed.
At that, Nene almost exploded again, but
managed to restrain herself when she realized she would only prove Priss right.
Instead, she just sat there and turned a deeper red than she already was.
For a moment, silence hung heavily in the
room. Finally, Linna softly spoke up. “Nene, I understand how you feel... well,
actually, I don’t. But I can see why you feel the way you do. Still, we have to
make the decision that is best for the team.”
Feeling her anger crumbling under the
weight of truth, Nene only nodded. ‘Not being terribly objective, are we?’ the
voice inside her prodded - not taunting, not mocking, just pointing out the
fact.
“Nene, if we do allow her to join, she will
be closely observed,” Sylia tried to reassure her.
“Very well,” Nene sighed, resigning herself
to the facts. “My vote is still no.”
Sylia nodded. “Priss?”
“I say yes.”
“Linna?”
“I say...” she looked indecisive, glancing
at Nene, then Sylia, then back at Nene. With the thought, “Forgive me, Nene,”
she said, “Yes.”
“And I must say yes as well. I am sorry,
Nene, but that is the decision I feel I must make.”
Nene only nodded, accepting the facts, but
she could not help but feel a little betrayed.
* * * * * * * * *
Roughly twenty hours later, Sylia was
introducing Starblade to the Knight Sabers’ main headquarters. The decision had
been made not to show her the alternate complex at Raven’s Garage until she had
proven her loyalty.
“This,” Sylia explained, opening a door,
“is the design system. The computers in here are where all of our equipment is
designed, to be constructed in the next rooms. You and I will be spending a
good
deal of time here, creating a hardsuit
design for you and incorporating some of your technology into the existing
suits.”
“Very good,” Starblade smiled, looking
around the maze of electronics which occupied the chamber. “Very advanced system you have here.”
Sylia smiled slightly, “No more advanced
than your own, I am sure.”
“No, not more...but certainly its equal.”
“Did you design your armor alone?” Sylia
inquired.
“No, I had help...” her voice faltered,
then she recovered, “but he was taken from me.”
“I am sorry,” Sylia apologized. “I am...
not unfamiliar with loss.”
“I know,” Starblade smiled wryly. “I had a
rather detailed file on you... or more correctly, on your family. I probably
should have guessed your role here, but it never occurred to me.”
Sylia smiled slightly. “To my knowledge,
only one person has guessed.”
Opening another door, she continued. “This
is the construction chamber. As the name implies, much of our equipment is
built here...”
* * * * * * * * *
The design of a hardsuit for Starblade
proved to be a challenge indeed. She was bent on retaining the energy web and
razor disc systems from her old armor, and fitting them into a hardsuit shell
was not an easy task. Eventually, however, they were able to work the
components in. The size of the disc magazine was reduced from thirty to
fifteen, but otherwise the weapons remained unchanged.
Also, she was able to accept some of the
communications duties originally assigned to Nene, creating space for a larger
arm cannon in that hardsuit.
In terms of style, Starblades’ hardsuit was
closest to Sylia’s. It was moderately armored, and thus sacrificed only a small
amount of mobility. Starblade was amazed by the sheer freedom of movement which
the suit allowed, and while it was less armored than her old battlesuit, she
quickly became quite comfortable with it. The largest adjustment was the loss
of full flight capabilities, but this would be solved when she received her
motoslave.
Starblade’s major contribution to the
Knight Sabers would prove to be her own design for a power reactor. Although
slightly larger than the one currently used, it was readily downsized and, even
in its modified form, produced a significantly higher extended power curve. The
peak output remained roughly the same, but as the system had been designed with
a flight rig in mind it was capable of maintaining maximum output for longer
periods.
While not as impressive as the Genom
prototype reactor, it was a significant improvement.
As all this work was being done, Starblade
found herself admiring the Knight Sabers more and more. Sylia, with her
fantastic intelligence, reminded her of her lost friend, and the two began to
grow close quickly. Priss, while distant, seemed the most willing to trust her;
perhaps this was because they were so much alike. Linna was a true artist on
the field of battle, and Starblade respected her
skill deeply. Finally, Nene, who was so
young, possessed a genius with electronics like none she had ever encountered.
She was strong at heart, too; Starblade knew the young one did not welcome her,
yet she could also see that she accepted her presence in a professional manner.
Starblade desperately wished she could find
a way to ease Nene’s pain, but she knew that there was little she could do. She
was the cause of that pain, and it seemed that her very presence would only
serve to irritate the wound. Never before
had Starblade really sought to be forgiven for anything she had done, but she
coveted Nene’s forgiveness, and she knew she might never have it.
* * * * * * * * *
Starblade had been faced with another
problem as well. Christine Stevenson was dead, with all her property
distributed to others. It would be simple to reclaim it, but she would rather
that Genom believe her to be gone. Since her hostilities with the megacorp had
begun, she had feared that the conflict would be extended to her own financial
empire, and she would just as soon not see her father’s company harmed.
Also, once she had given all her
possessions away, she did not have the ruthlessness to reclaim them. Sylia,
sensing this difficulty, offered her a place to stay.
Starblade did not wish to accept any more
charity than necessary, but Sylia had insisted, calling it payment for the use
of her designs. Once that was agreed on, she rarely left the base of
operations.
Each night, her sleep was tormented by
nightmares, visions of death repeated time and time again. When she could sleep no more, she would
simply lie in bed, wondering why she had to relive the worst moment of her life
each night. “Was not once torture enough?” she would whisper, crying herself
back into the tortured slumber.
Eventually, her weeping was heard by
another soul. Sylia, who was awake late that night, knocked on her door.
“Yes?” she managed.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Sylia
asked quietly.
Starblade didn’t answer, so Sylia quietly
opened the door. “Christine?” she asked softly, using her name for the first
time.
“Christine is dead!” was the reply. “I am
only Starblade now.”
“Perhaps,” Sylia answered, her voice
soothing. “Perhaps you wish it were so. I know the feeling well.”
“Do you?” the bitterness in Christine’s
voice cut deeply, but Sylia persisted.
“More well than you might imagine.” Sitting
on the bed, Sylia extended her hand to Christine. “We all have our dark hours.”
“And I am the cause of many.”
“You are not responsible for his death,
Christine.”
“I am! He died because he stayed with me...
because he loved me.”
“And Nene was harmed because I led her into
a trap,” Sylia responded, cautious of bringing up the incident but having no
better answer.
“A trap that I laid!”
“Then perhaps you are responsible for that.
I would not say so, however. Nene knew the risks when she joined us, as did
your friend when he chose to assist you.”
“But he died for my love...”
“Then his death was happier than most.”
“But...” Christine was stunned by the truth
of that statement. The only thing James had ever desired, to her knowledge, was
her love... and she had given that to him. “...but he didn’t have to
die.”
“All things end. My father’s death was
pointless, his life’s work stolen by a power-hungry madman. He never lived to see his dreams.”
“I don't know how to go on without him.”
“Day by day. You will find new life.
Perhaps you will find it here, as did I.”
There was her answer. All her sorrow, her
agony, was over her own loss. The knowledge did not lessen the pain, nor dull
its impact, but it eased her tortured conscience.
“And Nene?”
“... will be fine, in time. She, too, has
lost something dear, but loss is a part of life.”
Christine nodded. “Thank you. I think I
feel better now.”
Sylia smiled and rose, “You are welcome.”
As she left the room, Sylia realized
something. Finally, she had faced her own pain, and beaten it, by helping
another with hers. Each of her Knight Sabers - and they really were ‘hers’ --
needed her, and she was determined to be there for them, because that was the
new life she had made for herself.
* * * * * * * * *
“So, is this a field test for the new
hardsuits or are we actually after something here,” Priss asked.
“You might call this a scouting mission,”
Sylia answered. “The objective is to sneak in close enough to the facility or
Nene to record some data on the production of the 34-CX.” Pausing for a moment,
she added, “PREFERABLY without being detected.”
Priss scowled. “And here I was hoping for a
combat test.”
Another of Starblade’s improvements to the
basic design was in explosion-protection. While not as effective on the thinner
hardsuit shells, this was the same design feature that had allowed her to shrug
off the blast effect of Linna’s Knuckle Bomber.
She predicted that it would also cushion
impacts from explosive projectiles, assuming the projectile did not penetrate
the shell before exploding.
“I’d just as soon get this information
without that sort of distraction,” Nene commented.
“No questions?” Sylia waited a few moments.
“All right. Let’s get suited up and go.”
* * * * * * * * *
“There’s the target,” Nene said, pointing
to the secluded installation through the trees.
“Excellent. Be careful, the security is
probably very tight here,” Sylia warned.
“I don't know why Genom started building
these production plants out in the middle of nowhere... this would have been
impossible in the city,” Priss interjected. “It’s hard to be stealthy in combat
armor on the street.”
“Because in the city, we could just pull up
across the street and record data from the truck?” Nene shot back, her voice
laced with sarcasm. “We need to get closer, Sylia.”
“All right...move in.” The five figures slipped between the trees,
approaching the electronic frontier which surrounded the facility.
A few feet from the laser fence, Nene said,
“I have a signal... establishing a link now.”
“Very good. Priss, Starblade, fan out to
the east and west and watch for sentries.”
“Got a link... this is going to take time,
Sylia.”
“As quickly as you can, Nene.”
Ten tense minutes later, Starblade’s voice
broke through the silence. “There’s a patrol headed this way. Looks like its
just human guards, but you never can tell.”
“How many?” Sylia inquired.
“Four.”
“Can you stay concealed?”
“Not if they’re boomers.”
“All right. Nene, can you scan them?”
Nene looked up with a scowl, “Not if you
want me to keep the stealth on this link.”
“How much longer, Nene?” Christine asked.
“Three minutes.”
“You don’t have that long. I can web them
down, but if they have comlinks, they’ll just call for backup.”
“Do it.” Sylia ordered.
Using her jump unit to get up in the trees,
Starblade scrambled to get directly above them. Aiming for the center of the
group, she fired her energy web down.
“Got them,” she smiled, looking at the
tangled mess of Genom guards trying to free themselves from he web. “They’re calling for help, but it will take
a minute for any to arrive.”
“All right, you and Priss pull back in,”
Sylia ordered. “Get ready to move out. Nene?”
“Working on it,” she answered, the
frustration showing in her voice. “I can only do this so fast.”
“Here comes trouble!” Christine called as she dropped to the
ground. “I see six Twelves coming out the front door!”
“All right... try to hold them off as long
as you can,” Sylia sighed. She had been
hoping to avoid combat, but it seemed that fortune did not smile upon them so.
“I’m coming in from the other side,
Starblade,” Priss informed. “Maybe we can catch them in a crossfire.”
“Right.” Picking out the nearest of the
approaching boomers, Starblade fired off another web. Invisible until it made contact, the net opened directly in the
cyberdroid’s path, ensnaring it and causing it to fall. The next of the boomers
opened fire with his machine gun, spraying the ground around her, and
instinctively she took to the air.
It was a mistake. Accustomed to a full
flight system, she found herself coming back to the ground much more quickly
than she had anticipated. The boomer quickly closed, bringing its heavier gun
to
bear. Frantically, she began to fire her
disc launcher over and over, emptying half the magazine, but her aim was wild
and only one of the shots hit. Bracing herself for the inevitable, she gasped
as the
boomer exploded, its insides blasted
through the front of its torso.
“Thanks, Priss,” she breathed, pleased to
be still alive. Regaining her composure as she touched the ground, she pivoted
and fired her disc cannon at a nearby boomer. Two of the micro-serrated
blades neatly sliced through the target’s
head, and it fell on its face, shut down.
At that point, Linna entered the fray. At a
dead sprint, she charged the nearest boomer. It turned to fire on her, but she
neatly dropped forward into a roll. Coming up on a knee, she fired her arm
cannon. Laser fire scored the boomer’s
armor as it attempted to bring its weapon down to her, and it suddenly exploded
as the shots burst through to its power reactor.
“Got it!” Nene called triumphantly. “Let's
go!”
“Move out!” Sylia ordered, turning to face
one of the two that had gotten past Christine, Linna and Priss. Deploying her
sword, she lunged straight at the metal monstrosity, only to have it dodge.
Stepping in the opposite direction to avoid
its counterstrike, she brought the weapon across in a backhanded motion,
striking the boomer in the center of its back.
Sparks flew from the point of impact, and
she pressed forward, driving the blade deeper until it punched all they way through
the front armor. Withdrawing the blade, she watched with satisfaction as her
adversary collapsed.
Retracting her data-probe, Nene rose to
confront the last of the boomers. With nobody to protect her, she knew she had
a fight on her hands. Immediately it opened fire, splintering trees and
throwing up clouds of dirt around her, but she was quickly out of the line of
fire. A mental command activated the electronic warfare system, and suddenly
the boomer found its scanners clouded with static. Pivoting to relocate its quarry, it faced her right as she began
firing. A surprised satisfaction filled her as she watched her newly-boosted
laser tear into the boomers armor, and after a few seconds it was down.
Just as it fell, the other three members of
the team joined Sylia and Nene, and they disappeared into the trees.
* * * * * * * * *
“Well done, all of you,” Sylia said. “Nene, the data you recovered will prove most useful.”
Nene smiled at that. Of late, she felt that
she had really come into her own as a member of the team. The electronic
systems in her hardsuit were improved with almost every job now, and they had
finally reached the point of providing her a challenge.
“Christine,” Sylia continued, deliberately
using her given name, “Your improvements to the hardsuits were very helpful.
Your presence in battle also made a considerable difference. I doubt we could have completed this mission
without you.”
“Thank you,” she smiled slightly, glancing
at Priss. Priss nodded at her, as if to imply that her mistake would be kept
between the two of them.
“If any of you need me,” Sylia concluded,
“I will be in the databank room analyzing this information.” That said, she
turned and left. Once she was gone, Christine turned to Priss and said,
“Thanks.
You
saved me out there.”
“That’s what we do,” Priss responded. “We
all look out for each other.”
Christine smiled, “I appreciate it,
anyway.” Looking around, she noticed that Nene had already vanished. “Does Nene
hate me as much as I think she does?”
Priss nodded slightly. “She’ll be all
right, eventually. She’s never had to deal with real anger before.”
Christine frowned. “I’ve been there
before... I hope she comes out of it better than I.”
* * * * * * * * *
Outside the Silky Doll, Nene thought,
“Well, she seems to have worked her way in easily enough.” Jealousy began to
surge through Nene’s thoughts. Why had Priss taken to Christine so
quickly? And
why was Sylia so insistent that she was
good for the team? The familiar anger
began to build within her again, and she found it almost comforting.
“Nene!” Linna’s voice cut through her
jumbled thoughts. “Wait for me!”
Turning, she saw Linna running toward her.
“I thought you might need someone to talk to,” she said.
“Yeah, maybe,” Nene replied, uncertain.
“Come on,” Linna tugged on her arm. “Let’s
go for a walk.”
Nene nodded, and the two of them set off
down the street. After a few seconds of
nervous silence, Linna spoke up. “I know how you feel, Nene. It can’t be easy
for you to see us accept her so quickly, after the pain she caused you.”
“You would think that she and Priss were
best of friends or something.”
“They’re a lot alike, Nene. They understand each other well.”
“I suppose...”
“And she’s not trying to supersede you,
Nene. She would like nothing better
than to be your friend. I heard her
telling Priss that, but she doesn't think that it’s possible.”
“It isn’t... at least not now.”
Linna nodded. “That’s why she’s leaving you
alone. She doesn’t want to hurt you more than she already has.”
“Then why did she come here?” Nene burst
out angrily, a tear forming in her eye, “Just... seeing her is a reminder.”
“Because she had no choice. Think about it... Genom was just going to
keep hounding her until they killed her, as long as they knew she was
alive. At least this way she can fight
back.”
“I...when I heard she was dead, I thought
this was over. I thought I could just move on. Now... it’s not that easy
anymore.”
“I know. She knows. Nene, she trusted you
with the most precious thing she had.”
Nene stopped. “That’s true, isn’t it?” she
asked herself out loud. Suddenly, a realization dawned on her. “She gave me... before she ‘died’...she
KNEW?”
Linna nodded. “She found out, anyway. She
hasn’t said it, but I think knowing hurt her. She’s not as heartless as you
think.”
“Maybe,” Nene said, her mind racing. “I...
need some time to think about this.”
Linna said, “I understand. Take care of
yourself, Nene.”
“I will. I’ve gotten a lot better at that
lately.”
*****************
END PART FOUR
*****************
Closing and locking her door behind her,
Nene collapsed into a chair. Her mind was flooded with thoughts and emotions,
and she felt lost. Anger and hatred wove their way into her soul, so familiar
now that she found them almost comforting...
With that thought, her spirit rebelled.
‘NO!’ it seemed to shout out from within her. “Is that really what you want?”
She had to admit that she did not. On the
other hand, the alternative seemed equally frightening. How could she forgive... how could she trust
the one who had introduced these things in her life?
The very thought brought a chill to her
heart. Looking down at her left hand, she wondered, “What have I become?”
* * * * * * * *
*
“This is not good,” Sylia thought, reading
through the data from Nene’s hardsuit. “Limited production of the 34-CX has
already begun. We are not ready for this.”
Calling up the data on the hardsuit
improvements, she began to compare them, element by element. The hardsuits were still superior, even to
the most lethal of the boomer’s weapon configurations, but the edge was not
enough. Recently, they had often been outnumbered, sometimes as much as three
to one, and she was not comfortable with the prospects of such a fight.
Searching her mind for ideas, looking for
any improvements that could be made, she came up empty. A breakthrough innovation was needed, and
soon. Christine had given them her best technology, and it was indeed
impressive; still, it was not enough. The power boost was good, as it would
allow for better systems in the hardsuits, but those systems did not exist
yet.
Time was short, and the sense of urgency
pressed her on. Slowly, ideas began to assemble in her mind.
* * * * * * * * *
Several hours later, she emerged from the
databank room, exhausted. The computer had set to work, modifying the existing
suits where it could and constructing new ones where necessary. Once she had
verified that the construction was in progress, she went to bed.
Her sleep would not come easily. In her
weariness, her mental guard dropped, and she was bombarded by images of the
past. The data unit, and the knowledge it held, the death of her father, and
the look in Mackie’s eyes when he learned of it. More scenes followed, triumph and tragedy - The battle with Mason
high above the rest of the city; Priss’s bravery and Mackie’s brilliance
joining to save an angry man from his own creation; the horror on Priss’s face
when she realized that Sylvie must die.
So much emotion was bound up in their
history together. Largo, and Priss with her stubborn determinaton not to be
beaten. Vision, the reluctant warrior.
Nene, and her ultimate vindication as both a Knight Saber and an officer
of the AD Police. Nene, and her suffering. They had seen so much together, and
there was so much yet to be done; somehow, she felt as if the end of it all was
near.
* * * * * * * * *
Nene had not slept easily either. The darkness which enshrouded her soul was
strong, and the urge to hate was powerful. Her very heart and soul fought
against it, but she feared it was a losing
battle. Hate was so easy, and trust so
difficult. Sylia had called her strong, but she felt so weak in the face of her
pain.
“Is this what I am doomed to be?” she asked
herself. She knew the path she had started on very well, for she had seen it in
another.
Priss, the cynic, always doubting, always
expecting the worst. The thought of becoming that frightened her, but she could
see no way around it.
Suddenly, another realization struck her.
“They are very much alike,” Linna’s voice echoed in her mind. ‘Was that to be
her destiny as well?’ She had heard the saying; we often become that which we
most hate. Was that her destiny? The thought overwhelmed her, and she began to
cry.
* * * * * * * * *
Christine wandered into the construction
chamber, watching with fascination as the machines worked. The most amazing
thing, to her, was how quick the process was - it had taken her days to build a
single battlesuit, but these hardsuits were constructed in a matter of hours.
She marveled at the level of technology represented here.
Her corporation, for all of its
technological prowess, had barely approached this level, and she found herself
wondering if even Genom was this advanced.
Probably not, she concluded. Sylia was
brilliant in ways she had never seen, never even dreamed possible. Every
generation had its spectacular minds, and she felt honored to be in the company
of one. The fact that she was so kind made it that much more incredible.
She had been shocked when they had beaten
her, and now she began to understand why. Their skills were finely honed, their
technology cutting-edge, and their teamwork perfect. The loyalty that bound
them was beyond question, and she found herself caught up in it. This struck
her as odd - she had always been such a loner, all her life, and yet now she
wanted nothing more than to be a part of this team.
With that realization, her heart froze. The
specter of death reared its ugly head, reminding her of all she had lost.
Everyone she had ever loved, ever cared for, had been lost to her, and she
could
not shake the sudden fear that it would
happen again. The inevitability of loss tore at her heart, until finally she
summoned the courage to suppress it. This time, she had a choice. She would
not allow it to happen again.
* * * * * * * * *
Priss had just arrived at her home when she
was struck by an odd feeling. Suspicion arose within her suddenly, and she
paused a moment before going in. In
that moment, the place exploded.
* * * * * * * * *
The phone rang, and Christine picked it up.
“Hello?”
“That you, Christine?” Priss asked, out of
breath.
“Yeah, what happened?” she answered. “You
sound like--”
“Shhh!” Priss interrupted her. “They’ve
found us. I don’t know how...” her voice trailed off.
“No.” Christine answered firmly.
“You’d better be telling me the truth,”
Priss warned. “I’m on my way.”
“Should I wake up Sylia?”
“Not yet. Wait ‘til I get there.”
* * * * * * * * *
Priss stormed into the room, glaring at
Christine. “Tell me again you didn’t betray us. And tell me why I should
believe you.”
“Believe her,” Sylia interrupted as she
walked into the room. “I told you I’d be watching her, and I have been.”
“You look terrible,” Priss told her.
“Just tired,” she tried to smile. “No time
for that now... we need to contact Nene. She might be in danger.”
“I'll do it--” Christine started.
“No, let me,” Priss cut her off. “She’ll
blame you for it.”
“Christine, you contact Linna,” Sylia
suggested.
Christine nodded and went to make the call.
* * * * * *
* * *
“I’m on my way,” Linna said, hanging up the
phone and grabbing her keys. Thinking that her car might be sabotaged, she
changed her mind and called a cab.
* * * * * * * * *
“Damn. She’s not answering her phone!”
Priss yelled from the other room.”
“We’ll have to go get her, then,” Sylia
sighed. “Get the suits ready.”
“If we wear them, we'll give her away,”
Christine commented.
“Too late to worry about that now. If they
found Priss, we’ve probably all been compromised anyway.”
It was almost ten minutes before Linna
arrived. “Good thing I live close,” she commented as she walked in. Moving to
the room where the new hardsuits were waiting, she looked back to say something
to Sylia.
At that moment, all hell broke loose.
The north wall of the building was blown
inward, spraying debris through the room. Linna caught a glimpse of something
on the other side just before the ceiling collapsed.
“Sylia!” she shouted, trudging through the
debris to reach her. She was half-buried under pieces of wall and celing, and
by the time Linna reached her she was barely breathing.
“Hell!” Christine shouted as she slipped
into her hardsuit.
Running through the door, with Priss right
behind, she charged into the destroyed room. “Go get in your suit,” she told
Linna as she and Priss began removing the debris, “We'll take care of Sylia.”
As Linna went to suit up, Priss looked at
Christine. “Where’s Mackie?” she asked.
“I don’t know...” Christine answered. “I’ll
go find him.”
“No need,” Mackie’s voice came over the
channel. “I made for the hangar as soon as I heard the explosion. I’m bringing
the KnightWing to pick you up.”
“Thanks, Mackie,” Priss answered. “Quick as
you can! Sylia’s in a bad way.”
Just as they got the last piece of debris
cleared, Linna entered the room. “How bad?” she asked.
“She’s still alive, but just barely,”
Christine answered. “She might make it if she gets help soon.”
“Come on, Mackie...” Priss thought... “Come
on...”
“I think I saw a boomer outside right
before the ceiling fell,” Linna said.
“Long gone by now, no doubt.” said
Christine.
“Figures,” Priss scowled.
About forty-five seconds later, the
KnightWing was directly overhead. Mackie lowered them a cable, and Priss
carried Sylia up to him. “Go!” she shouted as she dropped back out the hatch,
and Mackie
flew out as fast as he could go. When Priss
dropped back to the ground next to Christine, Linna had left. A second later, she reappeared holding
Nene's hardsuit.
“Let's go,” Priss said, and they took off.
* * * * * * * * *
Nene awoke to a loud banging at her door.
Clambering out of bed, she ran to the door and looked outside. Seeing the other
Sabers, minus Sylia, dressed for battle, she immediately let them in.
“Where’s Sylia?” she asked.
“Hurt. Bad,” Priss informed her. “They
found us, Nene.”
Nene registered shock first, then anger as
her gaze rested on Christine.
“She didn’t do it, Nene,” Priss said
firmly.
“I’m sure she didn’t," Nene answered,
her voice as cold as ice.
“I said, she didn’t do it,” Priss’s temper
started to flare.
“Wait,” Christine said. “We don’t have time
for this, we’ve got to decide what we’re going to do now.”
“Genom crossed the line,” Priss answered.
“This is war.”
Nene nodded her agreement immediately.
Christine too felt a grim determination overcome her. Linna was more hesitant, but she realized that it was the only
way.
“Tonight it ends,” Starblade said
deliberately, and even Nene had to agree.
****************
END PART FIVE
****************
Priss’s mind flooded with memories as
Genom's artificial mountain of a headquarters grew larger in her sight. Twice
she had been there before, both times for a confrontation with a single
man. Mason. Largo. And the cycle began
anew.
Uncertainty tore at her heart as they raced
toward destiny. With Sylia out of the picture, the leadership had fallen to
her. More memories... lessons in command she had not wanted to learn but was
now glad for. Sylia had seen this day coming, and once again her foresight
might save them all...
In her mind, Priss reviewed the mission
objectives. As their identities had been compromised, there were now several
levels of threat with which to contend. First and foremost, they had to know
exactly what Genom knew about them, and that meant accessing the Tower’s
central computer. After that, they had
to find Quincy... his very existence was now a threat to their survival.
A chill passed through her at that thought.
She had often wondered how Sylia had felt when she came to the conclusion that
Mason had to die; now she knew. A cold knot formed in her stomach as she
steeled herself to the task at hand. Finding Quincy would not be easy...
killing him might be more difficult still. Nevertheless, it had to be done.
Trying to part from that line of thought,
she looked up at their destination. “Defensive strength?” she asked, almost
mechanically.
“Heavy, but spread pretty thin,” Nene
responded. “We should be able to punch through the front gates if we strike
quickly.”
“Let’s do it, then. For Sylia! Knight
Sabers, sanjo!”
“For Sylia!” came the unison response as
they throttled up their motoslaves and charged onward.
As the defenders came into visual range,
Priss was surprised at just how undefended their front gate was. “Didn’t they
learn from the first time?” she thought to herself. “Guess not.” Using her left
hand to steer, she raised her arm cannon
and fired two shots. Armor piercing rounds slammed through the front door,
caving it inward, and a third shot blew it down.
“Seven rounds left,” she reminded herself.
The
two boomers on each side of the gate charged out to meet them. Each pair
consisted of one 34-CX and one 55-C, with the modular variants equipped for
artillery. Cannon fire blazed on all sides as
the Sabers closed in, getting frighteningly
more accurate. “Enough of this,” Priss growled and transformed her
motoslave. As the massive armor slowed,
she raised her gun and fired two shots.
The 34-CX’s exploded, leaving only the
smaller opponents, and their last shots bounced harmlessly off the
Typhoon-IIB’s armor.
“I’ve got the left one,” Linna called,
leaping from her motoslave. Even as she jumped, a beam of energy from the
boomer she was targeting seared the space she was departing. Before the boomer
had even shut down the weapon, she was upon
it. The Knuckle Bomber flared, and one defender remained.
Christine swerved left and right, taking
the motoslave right up to the target while still in cycle mode. Deploying her newest weapon at the last
second, she was rewarded with a shower of sparks as the
micro-serrated blade decapitated the
cyberdroid. Sparks flew, and it fell in a heap. Not stopping until she had
reached ruined door, she called out, “Clear inside.”
“Great,” Priss answered, unable to shake
the feeling that it had been too easy. Still, she wasn't about to complain...
the worst would not begin for some time.
Nene and Linna quickly slipped into the
building behind Christine and Priss, and they set off down the entrance
corridor.
“No pursuit,” Nene noted, “but this whole
building is full of boomers.”
“Try to steer us around them as best as
possible,” Priss said, then thought, "Did I just say that? It’s the right
decision, though...”
“Right. Primary computer core is fifteen
floors up. There should be stairs that way,” Nene pointed.
“Let’s go, then.”
* * * * * * * * *
Alarm klaxons rang throughout the Tower as
the Knight Sabers easily blasted through the outer defense. The security chief
sat comfortably at his desk and started giving orders.
“They’re on the ground floor now, making
for the main stairway. Groups Alpha-Seven and Gamma-six, move to intercept.”
“Affirmative,” a very synthetic-sounding
voice answered.
*
* * * * * * * *
“We’ve got two groups of boomers closing in
on us... they’re not going to let us have the stairs,” Nene warned.
“Like hell they’re not,” Priss answered.
“Get ready for a fight.”
They set up a defensive position in the
corridor, with Nene giving continuous updates on the boomers’ locations. The
wait seemed eternal to Priss. Every decision she made, every order she gave,
weighed heavily on her heart.
“Second-guessing is part of the business, I
guess,” she thought to herself, but that still didn’t make it any less
nerve-wracking. Quickly she was coming
to understand why Sylia always seemed so dispassionate, when she knew she
wasn’t really that way, and she found her respect for their leader increasing.
“Here they come!” Nene called out the
warning.
“How many, now?”
“Looks like two groups of four. The groups will arrive about a minute
apart.”
“All right, work fast, then.” As she said
it, the boomers burst around the corner.
Raising the motoslave’s mammoth gun again, she blew the first cyberdroid
to oblivion.
Linna charged headlong at the second,
dropping into a roll at the last second to avoid being struck.
Her razor-whips trailed out to the sides,
and with a flurry of sparks the boomer’s legs were severed at the knees. It fell, and she drove the Knuckle Bomber
into its back to finish it. Two
remained.
“Fifteen seconds,” Nene warned as she gave
her suit a mental command. “Time to see if this works.” Suddenly, a piercing
screech was torn from the nearest boomer as it fell to its knees. Nene finished
it off quickly with her arm laser.
“What the hell was that?” Christine shouted
as she dodged an attack from the fourth boomer. Leaping backwards to get some clearance, she fired three discs
into the boomer. The first two only grazed, but the third struck it cleanly in
the head, and it fell.
“Something new Sylia cooked up,” Nene
answered, gesturing to the second group of boomers as they rounded the corner
ahead of them.
“I’ll explain later!”
“Right,” Christine agreed, selecting her
energy web...
* * * * * * * * *
As the Knight Sabers cautiously ascended
the stairs, Christine said, “Now... what did you DO back there?”
“Well, we each got a new weapon, and that
was mine. It scrambles the artificial synapses of a boomer’s neural net.”
“Ouch. Effective,” was Christine's comment.
“Very,” Priss agreed. Looking up the stairs, she could see that
they narrowed as one ascended. “I’m going to have to leave the motoslave
behind,” she said. The others had done this some time back,
with each of them given orders to try and
distract the security forces wherever possible. Climbing out of the massive
armor, Priss slapped it on the ‘back’ and said, “Go raise some hell.” With
that, they resumed their ascent.
By the time they had reached the fifteenth
floor, a reception had been prepared for them.
“It would seem that they know where we’re
going,” Priss scowled as she fired her arm cannon with its usual devastating
result.
“No kidding,” Linna said with more edge than
usual on her voice. Ducking underneath a Bu-12’s machine-gun barrel, she
planted her left hand on the ground and drove both feet toward the boomer in a
savage kick. Electrified blades extended from her heels, and with all the force
she could manage she rammed them into its knees. A loud crackling drowned out
the sounds of battle momentarily, and the boomer collapsed, its systems fried.
Even as she withdrew her feet and moved
to stand, the blades retracted.
“Nice,” Priss commented, picking off yet
another Bu-12 with her flechette cannon. “This is too easy,”
“You complaining?” Chris shot back.
“Yes!” she growled as she dodged an
energy-blade swipe and responded with a sharp strength-enhanced uppercut that
crushed the offending 34-CX's armor. “Something’s not right about this!”
“Some of the defenses still haven't been
mobilized, and I can’t pin down why,” Nene observed.
* * * * * * * * *
“What do you mean, no response?” the
security chief screamed.
“Boomer groups Beta, Lambda, and Mu are not
responding, sir.”
“Find out why!”
“Yes, sir,” the comm. specialist responded,
having no way of knowing that it was an impossible order. Triggered by the Knight Sabers’ attack, a
long-dormant and nearly untraceable computer virus was running rampant in
Genom’s systems and causing massive degeneration in their internal comm.-net.
Sylia’s foresight worked in their favor again.
“Where are they now?” the chief asked
himself as he stared at the monitor. “Looks like they’ve split up. See if you can
get ANY security forces to respond.”
“I’ll try,” was the response, accompanied
by a sigh.
* * * * * * * * *
“They’re diverting forces to stop the
motoslaves,” Nene informed.
“They STILL have not activated all of their
defenses.”
“Then let’s move before they fix
that," Priss prodded. Two empty corridors later, they were confronted with
a heavily-armored security door.
“This is going to take time,” cautioned
Nene as she set to work.
Priss nodded. “Set up a defensive position,
in case we get company.” So far, so good, she thought. Things were going a little too well for her
to be entirely comfortable, but if Genom was setting up a trap they’d waited
too long to spring it. Any second now
they’d be at the primary computer core.
“I’m in!” Nene said triumphantly as the
doors parted for her. Greeted by a hail of laser fire, she barely managed to
get under cover.
“Be careful!” Priss warned. “We need to
access that computer before we trash it.” Once again, she was surprised by her
own words.
Perhaps Sylia had taught her better than
she believed.
“Right,” Christine answered, a trace of
sarcasm evident in her voice.
Priss almost repeated the order, not liking
the sound of Christine’s response. Just as she opened her mouth to speak,
however, she realized that it was exactly what she would have said -- even if
she intended to obey. With that thought, she wondered what it was like for
Sylia to deal with her.
Another burst of gunfire pushed such
thoughts from her mind. “Christine, can you web those bastards down?”
“I can try,” she responded dryly as she
prepared the weapon and waited for enough of a lull to get off a shot.
Eventually the break came; she stepped into the doorway and fired the web.
Leaping backwards to avoid the retaliatory fire, she nodded to Priss. “Got most
of them, anyway.”
“It’ll have to do. Let’s go!” he yelled as
she charged through the door. Machine gun fire ricocheted off her armor as she
dove for cover. Once she was safe, she started picking off guards with the
flechette cannon.
“Cover me,” Christine called, then dove
through the doorway herself. Immediately three of the boomer guards turned to
fire at her, but Priss was faster. Three armor-piercing rounds took out the
defenders, and Christine set herself up on
the opposite side of the door.
“All right, we’ve got them now,” Priss
couldn't help but grin as she and Christine finished off the remaining guards.
“Come on in.”
Linna and Nene hurried into the room, and
Nene immediately set to work on the computer.
“Guard that door,” Priss ordered
vehemently. While Nene worked on the computer, she would be vulnerable to shots
coming in from outside.
“Accessing... I’m in,” Nene informed.
Quickly, she began to search for certain keywords in the databanks. The amount
of data she found was frightening.
“Priss...” she breathed. “They know almost
everything.”
“Damn.”
Suddenly, all their plans had been shot to hell.
“Destroy it.”
Nene nodded, downloaded one last packet of
files, and stepped away from the databank. Firing several shots, she rendered
the machine little more than melted scrap. “Let's go.”
* * * * * * * * *
“Sir, the primary is down!” the
communications officer said in a panic. “I’m getting nothing on the comm.-net,
either.”
“No point for us to hang around, then...
let's get the hell out.”
“I’m right with you, boss.”
* * * * * * * * *
Priss’s mind was reeling as she tried to
salvage some form of a battle plan. They had not counted on more than a few
higher-ups having access to their identities, but it turned out that the data
had
been keyed at only a moderate security
clearance. Hundreds of people might possibly know everything.
Sylia would know what to do, she thought...
damn. Any hope of a quick solution was
lost now; GENOM had to be taken out of the picture entirely, or they would
never be safe... but how? “Think,
Priss!” a voice in her head cried out.
“All right. We still have to achieve our
primary goals, then we can worry about what's left,” she sighed. “What kind of
defense are they putting together, Nene?"
“Not much. Their entire internal
communications system is down for some reason.”
“Good...we can split up. Linna and I will
hit the secondary computer core, you two go after the tertiary. Destroy anything else you happen to find on
the way.”
“Right,” Christine nodded. “Let's go, Nene.”
Nene hesitated. For a split second, bitterness flared up inside her, and she
almost asked Priss to change the groups... then she stopped. She was a Knight
Saber, and a Knight Saber she would be
above all.
This was not the time for personal conflicts. “All right. This way,” she
indicated.
Priss sighed. She had seen Nene freeze up
for a moment, and she had feared that their unity was too fragile to hold.
Fortunately, she had been wrong. Crisis fuses a team, after all.
* * * * * * * * *
“Tertiary core is down,” Nene called out.
“Good work,” Priss’s response cut through
the static. Static...Nene thought. Ever
since they had dropped below the ground level, the comm. links had not worked
quite correctly. It was almost as if there was some sort of shielding.
“Christine,” she said coldly. “There's
something important in these sublevels.”
“Besides this core?” Christine asked.
She nodded. “More important than that.
They’ve got some serious electromagnetic shielding down here.”
Christine nodded. “In other words, this
place was designed to take a hit.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, let’s check it out. Can you put a
map on the screen in here?”
Nene smirked at that, even though it could
not be seen through her helmet. “Of course.”
* * * * * * * * *
“All right! Main computer systems are
destroyed,” Priss reported. “We’re moving on to the research facilities.”
“You do that,” Christine responded. “Nene’s
found something down here, we’re going to check it out.”
“Right. Be careful.”
“Always.
Starblade out.”
Priss looked around the corner to see a
small squad of boomers coming down the hall. “Linna, we’ve got company.”
“I see them. Four Bu-12’s. Shouldn’t be a
problem.”
Priss nodded. “Let’s take them.”
Like a carefully orchestrated and
long-rehearsed ballet, the two sprang into action. Not a word was spoken
between the two, but each instinctively knew where the other would strike.
Linna went high as Priss fired low, the last shells of her arm cannon taking
out two of the four. Even as the rounds impacted, Linna fell on the nearest
enemy, and the Knuckle Bomber flared as she rammed the emitters into its’ neck.
Smoke and flame shot from the gash made in its armor, and it fell.
Linna never touched the ground, using the
hulk of the first cyberdroid as a springboard. Flipping forward, she extended
the blades from her heels and used her weight to drive them downward into
the second boomer’s shoulders. A flurry of sparks accompanied the sizzle of
overloading circuitry, and the fight was over.
“As good as ever,” Priss said, her grin
hidden by her helmet.
* * * * * * * * *
“Two major spots to check out,” Nene
commented, pointing out the locations on the map. “I’ll take this one... the
electronic security is tighter.”
“Right,” Christine said. “You sure you’re
up to going it alone?”
Nene nodded. “I don’t read any active
boomers down here, and they’d have a hard time activating any with the computer
and commnet down.”
“Good point,” Christine conceded. “All
right, let’s go.”
Nene nodded, and they headed back out into
the corridors. Moving in opposite directions, they began their search.
Nene smiled slightly, as a predator might.
Slipping through the corridors as stealthily as was possible in full body
armor, she switched her scanners to passive mode. The active mode read too many signals, and she might miss
something important.
Almost immediately, a small object on the
wall in front of her was overlayed in red.
Analyzing the threat - an infrared-targeting laser, she raised her arm
cannon and vaporized it. This would be
slow going, she realized.
* * * * * * * * *
Christine was being far less cautious; in
fact, she was preoccupied with something else entirely. Her instincts were blaring a warning,
telling her that she was being deceived, but she couldn’t
tell why.
The area she was checking out didn’t seem suspicious at all to her. There was minimal security, and so far she
had seen nothing but storage facilities. Still, Nene had indicated that there
was something of importance this way.
* * * * * * * * *
Nene’s slight smile became a grin as she
found what she was looking for. The sensors in her suit displayed the outline
of a hidden door in the wall in front of her, and she began to scan for
electronics. “There!” she thought,
isolating the security mechanism.
* * * * * * * * *
Priss whistled as she looked at the lab
they had just cleared out. Experimental technologies abounded, and most of them
looked like military advances. Nodding to Linna, she activated her flechette
cannon and started destroying equipment. By the time they were done, the whole
lab was in ruins.
“This floor is all labs. We need to trash
them all,” she said.
Linna nodded. “It’s time to put GENOM out
of the boomer business.”
* * * * * * * * *
After a few seconds, Nene managed to access
the door’s systems and bring them on-line. Isolating the activation code from
its’ own databank, she began the security sequence.
“Welcome,” a gentle female voice spoke. It
was a prompt of some sort, Nene realized, but for what? Guessing that she had little time, she
submerged herself in the computer.
Neural transceivors in her helmet sprang to
life as her mind linked directly into the machine, reading her thoughts and
translating them to the computer. Her vision blurred for a moment, then data
began to overlay itself on her sense of sight. Cryptography fell to
pattern-recognition, and finally she saw it. Voiceprint.
“Initiate search,” she mentally commanded
the suit, and in a matter of nanoseconds it had isolated the correct pattern.
“Playback.” she commanded. “It is I.”
Quincy's ominous voice came from the speaker of her comm. system, crystal clear
as there was no transmission to be scrambled.
“Greetings, sir,” the voice responded.
“Welcome home.” With those words, the door slowly opened, revealing a
surprisingly large entry chamber. De-synchronizing with the suit’s computers
and
beginning a lifesign scan, Nene found that
which she looked for and cautiously slipped through the entryway.
* * * * * * * * *
“Damn!” Christine thought to herself as she
rounded the final corridor and found herself looking at a blank wall. “She
tricked me... but why?” Suddenly, she thought she knew, and she broke back
down the hallways in a dead sprint.
“Nene!” she called out, neither expecting
nor receiving a response. “Dear Lord, grant me the speed!” Triggering her jump
unit for further acceleration, she felt her feet lift off the ground, and
she flew.
* * * * * * * * *
Quincy did not hear the door softly open;
it had been designed to be silent. He did not hear the sounds of hardsuited
feet on the carpeted floor, nor the soft whine of the armor’s sensor
systems. He certainly did not expect to
be so rudely jolted from his rest as he was.
“QUINCY!” Nene screamed, bringing her arm
laser to bear. Her voice hardened as ice as she warned, “Don't even move.”
* * * * * * * * *
“Hell!” Christine cursed under her breath
as she heard Nene’s cry. She was closing down on her position, but if she
didn’t get there fast, it would be far too late.
“Damn it, Nene... why?” she questioned,
knowing only that it was a race against time, now.
* * * * * * * * *
“Who are you?” the old man asked, a slight
crack in his voice barely betraying the fear he felt. “What are you doing here?”
“I am a Knight Saber, and I am here to kill
you,” Nene breathed, taking two short steps toward him.
“Many have tried that before...do you
really think that I would allow you to find me?” his voice echoed through the
room, and his image appeared on a screen behind him.
“Allow? You didn’t have a choice. My
scanners say that you are flesh and blood, and no double. You hurt me, Quincy,
and for that-- ”
* * * * * * * * *
Christine breathed a sigh of relief as she
slipped through the closing door. Why it had remained open so long was beyond
her ability go guess, but right now she was nothing but grateful. Another open
door lay at the end of the entry chamber, and
through it she could see...
Nene. Cannon leveled at someone, preparing
to fire. As Christine closed in, she could hear her words.
“You hurt me, Quincy, and for that--”
“NO!” Christine cried, firing her last
energy web at Nene.
Caught off guard, the young Knight Saber
was thrown across the room into the wall, where she was pinned.
“Chris... you...” her voice trailed off,
the bitter taste of betrayal choking off the words.
“I’m sorry, Nene... but I can’t let you do
that.”
* * * * * * * * *
“That does it,” Priss said, the
satisfaction clear in her voice. “Let’s go meet up with Nene and Chris.”
“Wait,” Linna answered. “One more thing.”
Grabbing a pair of ammunition crates, she drug them into the center of the
room. “Find anything that will burn,” she told Priss.
“Ah... good idea.” It took a couple of
minutes, but they set up a large stack of explosive materials. “Now, let’s go,’” Linna suggested. On their
way out, she turned and fired a single shot with her laser.
The explosion was dramatic. “Go!” she
yelled to Priss as flame shot from the doorway she had just fired through.
Fleeing the conflaglaration, they headed for the stairs down.
* * * * * * * * *
At the abandoned security station, fire alarms
wailed in protest as the blaze swept through the laboratory area of the tower.
Automated blast doors slammed shut on three floors to contain the
fires, but the fire would still cause
hundreds of millions in damages.
* * * * * * * * *
“I’m sorry, Nene, but I can’t let you do
that,” Christine’s voice took on an apologetic tone. “Not you.”
Quincy
looked up, the expression on his face that of a man who had just stared down
death and walked away. Christine turned
to face him, removing her helmet.
“My name is Christine Starblade. Do you remember me?”
Quincy nodded, remembering no such thing
but not wanting to offend his savior.
“You once hired me,” she continued.
Quincy nodded again. Slowly, the name
started to come to his memory.
“And then you tried to kill me.” she
finished, her voice turning cold. Quincy’s eyes widened, his hope shattered
like so much glass.
“You’ve hurt a lot of people,” Christine
added. “And now it’s time you paid for it.”
The old man retreated a little, stepping
backwards, hoping to find a way to escape.
There was none.
“This,” Christine narrated, firing a
razor-disc into Quincy’s wrist, “was for Nene.”
Shocked at actually having been hurt, he
cried out in pain. Fear gripped his heart, and he backed away farther.
Firing another, this time through his left
shoulder, Christine continued, “That was for me.”
She paused a minute, checked the number of
discs in the magazine, and smiled slightly. Two. “This one,” she carried on,
“is for Sylia.” The disc shot through his body, nearly striking his spine, and
tore through his back.
Then, she stopped. Quincy climbed back to
his knees before her, silently begging for life. She might yet spare him, he
thought, but he soon saw that any such hope was in vain.
Slowly, deliberately, she opened the
magazine on her disc launcher. Carefully, she removed the final remaining
blade, slipping it between two of her fingers as she walked toward Genom’s
cowering CEO.
Standing over him, she felt a tear roll
down her cheek as a memory came back to her. “This...” her voice broke. “This
is for James, you son of a bitch!” Her whisper became a scream as she slashed
across Quincy’s throat. Blood trailed from the blade as she pulled it away, and
with his larynx sliced open, Quincy began to choke.
“Just die, you bastard,” Christine
whispered as she turned away from him, feeling her rage drain away in a torrent
of sorrow.
Stumbling over to Nene, she released the
web and pulled her close to herself. Knowing it was over, she began to weep
silently.
Behind her, Quincy fought in vain for
breath. It was only a matter of seconds before he died.
* * * * * * * * *
It was about ten minutes before a
resounding explosion signaled the destruction of Quincy’s secret door. Triggering the motoslave’s release, Priss
climbed out of the armor and ran into the room. What she saw stunned her.
Quincy lay dead on the floor in a pool of
blood. Christine and Nene, helmets off, stood in the corner of the room,
hugging each other, Nene comforting Christine. As for Christine, she looked as
if all the grief she had suppressed had broken through at once, and she cried
like a wounded child.
Linna came in behind her, stopping short in
the doorway at the sight. “So... it really is over,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” Priss said cautiously. “The beast
has lost its head...but time will tell if it may grow a new one. For now, it is enough.”
Linna nodded.
* * * * * * * * *
Fifteen minutes later, the Knight Sabers
were gathered on the roof of Genom Tower. The AD Police had just started to
arrive, having not been alerted until the security chief had personally
reported the situation at Headquarters.
“Did you leave all that data you
downloaded?” Priss asked Nene.
Nene nodded. “Hard copy and locked into the
viewscreens. It should give them something to think about, anyway.”
“Heads will roll,” Christine added,
speaking more quietly than usual.
“I hope so,” Linna answered. “Maybe it
really is over.”
“Maybe so,” Priss said, for once with no
trace of cynicism in her voice. “Maybe so.”
Almost on cue, the sun broke the horizon,
spreading beams and light which seemed to banish the haze of Megatokyo’s skies.
The Knight Sabers, victorious, were the heralds of a new day.
***************
END PART SIX
***************
A
week later --
It was one of the most beautiful days
Megatokyo had ever seen.
The smog was almost non-existent, and the
sky was clearer than it had been in years. Sylia awoke that day, and smiled at
the first thing she saw. Clustered around her bead were the assembled Knight
Sabers - Priss, Linna, Nene, Mackie, and Christine. Even Priss was smiling, and
they all looked a little different, but the biggest change was Nene.
Sitting there in her AD Police uniform, she
looked happy again; still, she was not the same as she had been before. She
looked a little older, perhaps just more mature. The old light shone in her eyes again, but it seemed tempered by
something, as if her innocence had grown into something more substantial.
Christine looked different, too. A sad
smile graced her face, and while it was apparent that she was not over all her
pain (and probably never would be), she had let go of her anger at last. Sylia
felt a swell of pride for both of them.
Seeing her gaze shift from one to the
other, Christine smiled at Nene, who returned the gesture. This, more than anything, lifted Sylia's
heart into the clouds.
For Sylia herself, the news was not all
good. The falling debris had damaged her spinal cord, and she would likely
never walk again. Still, her mood was pleasant, and even with her injury she
seemed to
be happier than she ever had. Perhaps she
was simply not afraid to show it now.
They spent several hours talking about the
things that had been - the destruction of Sylia’s home and business had been a
loss, but not an insurmountable one. The revelation of their secret identities
was worse, but even that was less severe than it might have been. Even
Christine’s home had been restored to her, though she would not reclaim the
remainder of her fortune.
Most of all, the final battle with Genom,
and the death of Quincy, weighed heavily in their thoughts.
For the first time, they had hope of a
peaceful future. Genom would never build boomers again; the news of corruption
Nene had released spread like wildfire in the media, and scores of government
and Genom officials went into forced
retirement.
The Knight Sabers were safe, even with
their identities known, for none remained to strike at them. Still, they all agreed that they must be
vigilant, lest another evil rise greater than the first.
The would have a new role--once the last
spark of hope in Megatokyo, they would now be the guardians of its flame.
End