The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted by 
	Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little 
	while for non-monetary reasons. I can be contacted at the Email address above. 
	Serious C&C will be accepted, out-and-out flames will result in a Boomer 
	or two being sent after you, once they get around to building them.


	Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . . 


Part 1 - Opening

Chapter 1



Manhattan Island
MegaNew York, NY, USA
December 20, 2035
1:22am EDST

     The snow had been falling for several hours now, and there was speculation that this could 
be the first white Christmas the city had seen in two decades. There were few people walking 
the streets tonight, but even the snow couldn't entirely halt the business of the city, legal 
or illegal. 

     The Fairline Hotel was an unremarkable building on the lower west side of Manhattan 
Island. Its short, squat shape was an unusual sight in modern day Mega-New York, given the 
city's drive to be as modern as MegaTokyo. Built during the late 1990's, the hotel had managed 
to stay a moderately priced establishment, despite all that happened around it.  

     Right now, the district was in the middle of a major building boom. Five skyscrapers were 
being built in the lots around the hotel. Three were well under way, while the other two were 
barely more then steel structures rising in the cold night air. With the exception of the 
occasional security guard, the construction sites were usually deserted.

     But not tonight.

     From the safety of one of those half-built skyscrapers, a shadowy figure watched the main 
entrance of the Fairline Hotel. The few times it did move, it seemed to move less smoothly then 
a human, accompanied by small mechanical sounds.

     The hardsuit was burnished black, with dark gold highlights. A small insignia, that of a 
black knight's head on a gold shield on the hardsuit's right breast, was the only identifi-
cation. The suit itself didn't have the massive bulk of most military hardsuits. The military 
would have loved to have one in their arsenal, had they known of its existence, but the hard-
suit's occupant didn't dare give them one.

     Greg continued to watch the main entrance below, his helmet's optical at full magnifi-
cation. I don't like this, he thought. I should have waited for better Intel.

     He keyed his commline. "Knight One to all Knights, status reports."

     "Blue Leader is standing by." Harland's voice sounded tense, expectant. "No activity at 
the side door."

     "Blue Two reporting. Trade entrance is silent."

     "Blue Three here. The parking garage is silent."

     "White Leader reporting." Fran's voice was cooler then Harland's, but even she had some 
tension. "No unusual traffic on Holman or 34th."

     "White Two reporting. I have a suspicious vehicle heading toward the Hotel on Jackson 
Avenue."

     Greg frowned. He keyed his mike. "White Two, what type of vehicle?"

     "A tractor trailer."

     Greg frowned. There were no markets or warehouses near here. "Distance from the hotel?"

     "Three clicks, and closing."

     "White Two, Keep an eye on it. White Leader, you and White Three move to secondary 
positions to support White Two, just in case he has to stop the truck from coming through."

     "Understood Knight One. White Leader out."

     "Understood. White Two, out."

     A new voice broke in "Red Three to Knight One." If Fran's voice was cool, Marla's was 
glacier in tone. "I have movement at the main entrance."

     Greg looked at the magnified image of the small knot of people emerging from the hotel 
lobby. There were five of them, three large men, a woman as tall as the men, and a young girl. 
The two women stayed in the middle of the men, while the trio scanned the surrounding area with 
chilling proficiency. The type of proficiency that can only be found in Boomers.

     "Blue Three to Knight One. I have three cars exiting the parking garage, moving to the 
front door of the hotel."

     "Understood, Blue Three. Hold current position." He keyed the mike to a different channel. 
"Red Four, analysis?"

     Two floors below, another hardsuited figure carefully scanned the quintet below. Nicky's 
voice sounded distracted, probably because he was operating sophisticated scanning equipment. 
"I have three BU-55C's confirmed, designated as Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma." The three men 
in Greg's visor suddenly had icons next to their images. "One probable C-series female Boomer, 
designated as Target Able." A different icon flashed into life near one of the women. "The last 
target is confirmed as main objective. She looks scared." 

     Greg thought for a minute. It has to be now. We can't wait any longer. "Red Team, 
form up on me. We'll take the Boomers head on. Blue Team, stand by to move and secure the 
objective. White Team, stop that tractor trailer. We move in five seconds. Red Four, start 
jamming as we move."

     By now, the three cars had pulled up in front of the hotel. The small group of Boomers 
moved as one toward them. Greg straightened, glanced at the hardsuit's readouts and shouted, 
"Red Team, Go!"

     He stepped off the platform into the air. For a fraction of a second, he fell toward the 
street. The thrusters then kicked in, not enough to completely arrest his sudden decent, but it 
was just enough to slow him. He felt more then saw the other members of Red Team descending 
with him.

     Below him, he saw several heads snap up to watch their decent. The car doors open, and 
three more men stepped out as one, and looked up at them.

     Greg cursed under his breath. He should have taken in account the drivers were probably 
also Boomers. As he watched, the visor added new icons to the three new people. They were 
marked as targets Delta, Epsilon, and Kappa. More Boomers.

     "Red Team, engage Targets Delta, Epsilon, and Kappa. Blue Team, move in and take out 
Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma."

     He was four stories above the ground now, and the Boomers were beginning to move, tearing 
away their human disguises, and preparing to open fire at them. The female Boomer grabbed the 
girl and pulled her back into the safety of the hotel's lobby.

     "Starting ECM, burnthrough in one-five seconds."

     It would be a temporary advantage at best. He aimed his right arm at his target. "I have 
Target Delta." A flash of steel erupted from the  rail gun in his hardsuit's right arm. The 
wave of steel spikes, each as long and thick as a finger, punched deep onto the Boomer's armor. 

     It staggered under the assault, then opened fire with its mouth laser. Greg twisted to the 
right, and the bolt of light shot past him, and into a steel support beam of the half-completed 
building behind him.

     The sound of a minigun firing was heard over the commline as another voice broke in. "Red 
two here, I have Epsilon."

     The Boomer designated as Epsilon exploded as the heavy 20mm shells shattered its armor. 
The car next to the Boomer also detonated, turning the night sky into daylight, as well as  
wrecking the other two cars. Through the flames, Greg saw the running figures of Blue Team 
advancing toward the first three Boomers.

     "Burnthrough in ten seconds," said the voice of Red Four, his voice unnaturally calm in 
the heat of battle. "All Knights, I'm picking up burst transmissions from Target Gamma. High 
frequency, and very short."

     As Greg landed on the snow-covered sidewalk, he heard White Leader shout over the common 
channel, "All Knights! That tractor trailer has released five - no, SIX BU-12C Combat Boomers, 
and they're on an attack vector for your location. ETA, thirty seconds."

     "Can you delay them any, White Leader?" asked Greg, dodging to his left as the Boomer 
designated Delta fired another blast at him with its mouth laser.

     "We can try, Knight One. But we're outnumbered and outgunned here."

     Greg snarled a curse and fired at the Boomer with his railgun again. The spikes struck low 
and hard, shearing the Boomer's right leg off at the knee. As the Boomer fell, Greg launched 
himself at it. The monoblade housed in his hardsuit's left arm slid out of its sheath and 
locked into place. 

     The blade came down hard and fast, separating the Boomer's head from its body. Greg spun 
to meet the next attack, but there was none. He saw the remains of two other Boomers scattered 
among the three wrecked cars. "All Knights, Status reports."

     "Blue Leader here. Target Able has retreated inside the hotel with the main target. 
Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma have been eliminated."

     "White Leader reporting." The sounds of explosions in background made her voice hard to 
hear. "White Three is down, and we're under heavy pressure here. One Boomer is damaged, but we 
can't hold them back much longer."

    Damn. Turning his head, he looked in the direction of White Team's location, and saw 
the explosions and laser traces three blocks away. The entire mission had turned into his worst 
nightmare. He couldn't leave White Team to fight that large a number of Boomers, and he didn't 
have the time to search the entire hotel for the Boomer and the girl. "All Knights, abort the 
mission. I repeat, abort the mission."

     Greg heard several sharp intakes of air from the other Knights. He ignored it. He had to. 
His people came first. "Blue Team, fall back to rally point FOXTROT. Red Team, form up on me. 
We're going after White Team."

     The glow of the thrusters added more light to the night air as the three members of Blue 
Team moved away to the rally point. The other three members of Red Team joined their leader. 
Greg looked at each of them. He couldn't see their faces, but he knew them well. All the 
Knights were his friends, but these three were his family. "Let's do it, people."

     With that, he turned toward the battle in the distance and launched himself into the air. 
The thrusters kicked in, and he charged into battle, the rest of Red Team behind him.



MALCORP Headquarters, 
Philadelphia, Pa. USA 
December 20, 2035
9:12am EST

     MALCORP headquarters occupied the entire space of a forty-story tower not far from the 
historical Independence Hall. Looking like a thin needle, the tower stood out among the other 
skyscrapers in the city's skyline, an elegant combination of glass, steel, and concrete. Unlike 
some of the other corporate headquarters, MALCORP was decked out in the colors of the seasons, 
giving the building the appearance of an overgrown Christmas tree

     Gregory Mallory ignored the building's appearance as he climbed the steps to the main 
entrance. A small pack of bodyguards was formed in a loose circle around their boss, their 
searching gaze watching everything around them. The few people around the front entrance gave 
the group a wide area of clear space around them. Despite the holiday season, no one wanted to 
get caught in a crossfire should someone try to take out the chairman and CEO of MALCORP on his 
own front steps.

      Not that Mallory looked like an easy target. He was tall and lean, and moved with an easy 
grace. His features were a bit too sharp to be called handsome, with dark hair cut short and 
combed away from his face. The most striking feature was his eyes - one was green blue in 
color, the other steel gray - they demanded eye contact when he looked at someone.

     He looked absurdly young to be in such a position of responsibly. But even his worse 
critics admitted that under Mallory, MALCORP was emerging as a leader in several fields. 
Military weapons, medicine, and computers were their strong suits, but they were widely 
regarded in several other fields.

     The group passed through the front doors without incident. Inside the lobby, they were met 
by Marla Brooks-Fenton, Mallory's personal assistant. She slipped though the circle of 
bodyguards with practiced ease, always careful not to shield a bodyguard's view or gun hand. 
She fell into step with Mallory as the group marched across the lobby.

     "What is it?" Mallory asked tiredly. The plane ride back from New York hadn't been 
pleasant, and he'd gotten only three hours of sleep.

     Brooks-Fenton was a slim, attractive woman with shoulder length red hair and bright green 
eyes. She wore a subdued business suit, and a compact headset with a microphone. "Sir," she 
said causally, showing none of the effects of the same plane ride. "There have been some 
developments in the VanDell matter." She handed him a sheet of folded paper.

     He unfolded the paper, glanced at it, then refolded the paper, and handed back to Brooks-
Fenton. "I want Mr. Grace and Miss Acreman in my office as soon as possible." 

     Brooks-Fenton spoke into the microphone, then said to Mallory, "They will be here 
shortly."

     "What is Mr. Chang's condition?"

     "The Doctors think he will lose that arm."

     "Damn. When he's recovered, I want him given an A1 priority for a cyberlimb replacement."

     "Already done, Sir."

     Mallory gave her a tired smile. "You are a treasure, Marla."

     "I try to be, Sir."

     The ride up on the elevator was made in silence. Once the elevator doors opened, the 
bodyguards separated to their assigned positions. Mallory, Brooks Fenton, and the two largest 
bodyguards made their way to Mallory's office at the far end of the hall. As they approached, 
the large twin doors opened silently.

     Mallory strode into his office, followed by Brooks-Fenton. The large double doors closed, 
leaving the bodyguards outside. The office was a modest sized affair, considering its occupant, 
but it was well furnished with all the amenities any CEO would want or need.

     Greg stood and stared out the large window behind his desk. Brooks-Fenton sat in a chair 
next to Mallory's desk, and waited.

     "Are you sure of the source?" he asked quietly, still staring out of the window.

     "Yes Sir. They were spotted boarding the plane by one of our agents. It was a direct 
flight."

     "Directly to MegaTokyo."

     "Yes Sir."

     "And of course, MegaTokyo is now GENOM owned. Lock, stock, and barrel."

     "Almost accurate, Sir."

     "And if we go after her, we end up fighting on GENOM's home turf." He turned to face her. 
"What are our assets in MegaTokyo?"

     Brooks-Fenton glanced down at a small notepad. "We have a small regional office there, a 
pharmaceutical research and manufacturing center, two smaller manufacturing plants, and several 
parcels of real estate currently not in use. A total of seven hundred sixty-two people on our 
direct payroll, of which thirty are suitable for black ops. Another twenty-five freelancers we 
can rely on."

     "Agents inside GENOM?"

     "Three. None higher then mid level management. All in nonsensitive areas."

     Mallory sat in his chair, and stretched. "Send a message to the regional office there. I 
want the top ten freelancers on our list out on the street searching for Janie ASAP. I want 
them to have a full description of her, but for God's sake, don't tell them the real reason why 
she's been taken. Let the freelancers know this is going to be dangerous. Double their usual 
rate, triple it if they object. Also, authorize a five-hundred-thousand-yen bonus if they 
actually find her."

     "Call the airport, and have my plane ready for flight. We'll have to stop over in Los 
Angles, but I want to be in MegaTokyo by this time tomorrow."

     Brooks-Fenton looked at him in surprise. "We're going to MegaTokyo?"

     "I haven't been there in fifteen years. Besides, do we have another choice?"

     "There is a Mercenary group already in MegaTokyo that could do the job. Their hardsuits 
are advanced models, plus they know the city."

     "The Knight Sabers?" Mallory shook his head. "I want - no, I NEED to do this. If our 
opponent thinks The Black Knights are going to let this one go by, they're seriously mistaken."

     There was a knock at the door. One of his bodyguards opened the door, and stuck his head 
in. "Mr. Grace and Miss Acreman are here, Sir."

     "Send them in, Remus." He looked at Brooks-Fenton. "Get those items taken care of now."

     Brooks-Fenton nodded slowly and stood. "Yes Sir. I'll get on these right away." She nodded 
to the two visitors just entering, and left.

     "Take a seat, both of you," said Mallory. He waited until they had both made themselves 
comfortable before he continued. "Last night was not a very good night for the Black Knights, 
was it?"

     "No Sir," replied Harland Grace, Leader of the Knight's Blue Team. He was medium height, 
heavy build, with hard features. An ex-solider, he was one of the original Knights. "In fact, 
it was a megaclusterfrack."

     Mallory nodded. "The Combat Boomers was a nasty shock. We're lucky none of us got killed." 
He turned to Acreman. "I'm sorry to do this, Fran. But I'm standing down White Team, effective 
immediately."

     Francine Acreman nodded slowly. She was taller, thinner, and less abrasive then Grace. 
"I'll have my resignation on your desk by noon today."

     "I don't want your resignation, Fran," replied Mallory sharply. 

     "But I failed to hold the Boomers long enough for you to rescue Janie. Because of that, 
the mission was a failure."

     "If there's anyone at fault, it's me," said Mallory. "It was my decision to order the 
strike without full intelligence. I was the one who seriously underestimated our opponent's 
security measures in this matter. It would have taken all three teams to take that Boomer squad 
out, and probably would have cost us plenty in casualties. You did well to slow them until Red 
Team arrived to cover your withdrawal."

     Mallory leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Acreman's face. "White Team is still yours. 
That hasn't change. But between Chang's injuries, Karson looking like one huge walking bruise, 
and having to literally pry you out of your hardsuit, White Team is just not ready for 
deployment."

     Acreman nodded, looking more relaxed. "What do you want us to do?"

     "First, You and Karson are on vacation for the next week, effective ten minutes ago. I 
checked you record, and you haven't had a vacation in two years. If you want, I can arrange to 
fly you down to the corporation villa on Bermuda. I don't care what you and Karson do for the 
next week, as long as you don't show up here."

     "After your vacation, you and Karson will be temporarily assigned to Project MORDRED. 
Professor Femorain has been, er . . . `Requesting' input from the Knights for the last several 
months. This will be a perfect time, especially with the run-in you had with the BU-12's last 
night."

     "Understood sir." She bit her lip. "I could use a vacation, and the Bermuda villa sounds 
perfect. I'm not sure about Karson, though."

     "I can handle Karson," replied Mallory easily. "All I have to do are mention women in 
bikinis, and he'll swim all the way to Bermuda."

     "And set a world's record doing it," said Grace.

     This brought a small smile to Acreman's face, and the rest of the stiffness flowed out of 
her. She stood slowly, and nodded to Mallory. "I'll go home then and pack."

     Mallory nodded and said, "I'll tell Brooks-Fenton to make the arrangements." 

     After she left, Mallory looked at Grace. "Get your team together. We're headed for 
MegaTokyo."




Chapter 2



District 6
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
1:12am 

     It was cold this time of year in the city. It hadn't snowed in several days, and what 
little remained was confined to the deepest shadows of alleys and walls. Even the most harden 
of the city's street people had found shelter, which meant there were few people around to see 
the latest Boomer rampage.

     The Boomers were a pair of advanced CU-5Ts that had broken out of a DARSTAR research lab 
late in the evening. The CU-5T was designed to perform both security and maintenance roles in 
the buildings they were assigned to. To downplay the fact it was a Boomer, it was designed and 
built to look almost human. The coal gray skin and the red-lensed eyes were  dead giveaways, of 
course, but the design was thought to be a reliable and solid example of Boomer technology.

     Or it had been until tonight.

     The pair had destroyed several abandoned tenement buildings in the area, and was now in 
the process of rampaging through a business district. The number of people killed and injured 
would be limited to a few unfortunates living in the tenements and members of the ADP unlucky 
enough to be in the Boomer's path. 

     It wasn't hard for Inspector Leon McNichols to track the Boomers - all he had to do was 
follow the wreckage they left in their wake. Behind him, the survivors of several AD Police 
squads that had already clashed with the Boomers followed in silence.

     Leon didn't blame them. The AD Police, hampered by idiotic orders and restrictions, were 
not having much luck slowing rampaging Boomers. The last six months had been nothing but a 
succession of out and out failures and half successes. 

     Morale was low in the department, and still sinking. Too many officers were calling in 
sick, or quitting the force altogether. These days, it wasn't uncommon to work sixteen-hours 
shifts to keep the AD police units up to full strength. The press depicted them as gun happy 
idiots who were more of a menace to the citizens of MegaTokyo then the Boomers were. It wasn't 
going to be a happy Christmas this year around AD police headquarters.

     They reached an intersection and stopped. Most of the light was coming from the flaming 
wrecks of cars that had made the mistake of being parked in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
A vidphone booth had been turned into twisted rubble, and all the nearby storefronts had been 
torn apart.

     "Any sign of them?" Leon asked his partner, Daley Wong.

     The redhead shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. "I don't see them."

     "Any ideas?"

     An explosion off to Leon's right, half a block away, interrupted the conversation. Daley 
looked at Leon, shrugged again, and pointed in the direction of the explosion. "Maybe that 
way?"



Above District 6
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
1:17am 

     The Knight Wing flew low over the buildings, heading toward the new explosions that lit up 
the night sky. A block and a half from the last explosion, the aircraft came to a hover a dozen 
meters over the roof of a six story office building. Four hardsuited figures dropped from the 
aircraft to the roof with quick and efficient motions. As soon as the last one touched the 
rooftop, the Knight Wing lifted quietly away into the darkness of the night sky.

     The quartet quickly moved to the edge of the roof, and stared down at the deserted street 
below. Nothing stirred below them, but though the audio pickups, they could hear the sounds of 
objects being destroyed, and the sounds of heavy footsteps. 

     "Nene, what are the AD police bands saying?" asked Sylia.

     "Leon and Daley are tracking the Boomers now," replied Nene. "They've got a dozen really 
pissed ADP troopers with them, but no heavy firepower."

     "Typical," snarled Priss. "They always bring the least amount of firepower against the 
maximum threat."

     "It's not their fault, Priss," said Nene, quick to defend her fellow officers. "The AD 
Police are turning into a morass of bureaucratic ineptitude. These days, Leon's spending more 
time filling out paperwork then he is hunting Boomers."

     "We can discuss the value of the AD police later," said Sylia. "Right now, we have two 
Boomers to take down. Nene, where exactly are they?"

     "I've got one three hundred meters off to the right," Nene replied, pointing to a store-
front near that video arcade. "The other one is in the second building down from us, on this 
side of the street. They read like CU 5Ts. Standard CU's have a heavy laser mounted in the 
right arm. The left arm has a taser and a grenade launcher built in. The grenade launcher has 
two rounds of tear gas. They have lighter armor then the BU series, and aren't that fast."

     "Priss, Linna," said Sylia. "You've got the Boomer in the building. Nene and I will take 
the one near the arcade. Any questions?" There were none. "Let's move out."



     Daley stared up at the four figures leaping from the rooftop of a building two blocks in 
front of him. "Hey Leon," he called out to his partner. "Your girlfriends are here."

     "About time," grunted Leon, glancing up. He watched them land, especially the blue 
hardsuit, then turned to the senior AD trooper. "Form a defensive line at the next 
intersection." He turned back to Daley. "Any chance of getting reinforcements soon?"

     Daley shook his head. "Ditto to the chances of getting any K-suits out here before the 
next century. We are it."

     "Damn." Leon watched the troopers dash past him. "We can't keep doing this job if the 
bosses don't give us the tools we need!"

     Daley shrugged. "If the chief doesn't listen to you, he's sure as hell not going to listen 
to the rest of us."

     "After tonight he will," growled Leon. "Or I'm going to make him wish he had."



     Priss and Linna cautiously approached the large hole the Boomer had made in the store's 
front. What had been the door laid in the middle of the street, a testament to the Boomer's 
amazing strength. They could still the Boomer inside the store, wrecking everything it could 
get its hands on from the amount of noise it was making.

     From the scattered albums littering the sidewalk, Priss figured the place had been a music 
store. Sort of like my singing career these days, she thought wearily.

     "How do you want to do this?" asked Linna.

     Priss waited until the spike shooters settled into firing position before she answered. 
"I'll get his attention, and draw it out into the street. According to the data, These models 
don't have combat sensors, so you should be able to blindside and hamstring it quickly enough."

     "All right," replied Linna. "Just be careful."

     "Aren't I always? On the count of three. One . . . two . . . THREE!"

     Priss stepped into the open, her head up display quickly isolating the target. It had just 
finished destroying the large set of shelves in the back of the store. It turned as the Knight 
Saber moved into view. 
 
     Most of its skin and clothing had been torn away in the firefights with the AD Police. It 
now looked like a zombie from an old horror movie. It stared at her for a fraction of a second, 
as if analyzing how much of a threat she was. In a fraction of a second, it decided Priss was a 
serious threat, and pointed its arm-mounted weapons at her.

     Priss was faster. A large gout of plasma from each spike shooter signaled the firing of 
several 40cm tungsten spikes at the Boomer. Two of the spikes tore away the Boomer's right arm 
in a fiery explosion. Two more spikes punched deep into its chest, while the last spike mangled 
the Boomer's left arm taser. 

     A popping sound near Priss feet made her glance down. The Boomer had gotten off one round 
of tear gas, and now the area was rapidly filling with smoke. Before the smoke obscured it, 
Priss saw the Boomer charging at her, howling like a wounded beast.

     Priss jumped back, her leap taking her halfway across the street. As the CU-5T crashed out 
of the smoke, Priss fired again. Several spikes missed, but two more struck it in the left leg, 
and the Boomer staggered.

     A blur of green suddenly appeared off to the Boomer's right. Linna snapped her head 
forward, and the Boomer snarled as its left arm was severed by the Saber's ribbon cutters. It 
tried to rush the green hardsuit in an attempt to smash her up against the wall of the music 
store. Linna easily avoided the attack simply by jumping up and over the armless Boomer. 

     The Boomer glared at her as she cleared it by more then a meter. At the high point of her 
jump, she fired both Wire daggers down into the Boomer. The laser edged blades punched deep 
into the Boomer's shoulders, generating another electronic scream from it. As Linna twisted her 
body to land, she sent a massive electrical charge through the wires.

     The Boomer shuddered as the electrical charge surged through its internal circuitry, 
destroying circuits, overloading memory chips, and burning wires. As Linna landed, the Wire 
daggers released from the Boomer, doing it even more damage, and flew back to her waiting 
hands.

     The Boomer was now shaking hard, as its internal components tried to overcome the damage 
inflicted on it. Priss ran up to it, activating her forearm rapier as she closed on it. "Here's 
an early Christmas present from the Knight Sabers, metalhead!" she shouted over the suit's 
loudspeaker.

     Before the CU-5T could react, Priss's right rapier had punched up through its jaw, into 
its main CPU. She withdrew the blade, stepped back, and swung the left blade in a short arc 
though the Boomer's neck.

     As the head fell away, it exploded, showering Priss with small chunks of metal and 
electronics. The body slowly collapsed onto its back, a smoking heap of parts.

     Linna landed next to Priss. "Nice finish."

     Priss turn to where the arcade stood. "We'd better see how Sylia and Nene are doing." 



     Nene and Sylia saw the Boomer duck into an alley next to the arcade. 

     "How do you want to handle this?" asked Nene.

     "According to the map," replied Sylia. "The alley's a dead end, so it's not going any-
where." She glanced up at the flat roof of the arcade. "Does this Boomer model have thrusters?"

     "Not according to the specs I have. It could have been modified, though."

     "I'll take the risk." She pointed to the arcade's roof. "I'm going up there. You go to the 
alley and keep its attention on you. Linger around the entrance. If I can get behind it, we can 
trap it between us."  

     "OK, but be careful."

     They sprinted most of the distance to the alley's entrance. Ten meters from the dark 
opening, Sylia activated her thrusters and launched herself toward the roof. Nene slowed to a 
cautious trot, bringing her hardsuit's hypersensors and Pulse strikers on-line.

     Nene reached the alley, and pressed up against the wall. Her mouth was dry as she said, 
"Ready here." 

     "Let's do it."

     Nene nodded and stepped out into the open. As soon as she did so, she activated the 
hypersensors, and brought her hardsuit's barrier system up to standby. "Come out, come out, 
wherever you are," she muttered, her mind sorting through the data the hyper-sensors was 
relaying to her.

     The alley itself was only five meters wide, and filled with trash and debris that had 
accumulated over the years. Three trash dumpsters sat there, two ten meters to Nene's left, the 
other farther away, on the right. The surrounding walls were at least thirty meters tall, and 
twice as long, ending in a fifty-meter tall brick wall. The only illumination in the alley came 
from a weak security light over the back door of the arcade. 

     There were no immediate signs of the Boomer, but the trash dumpsters limited the sensors. 
"Sylia," said Nene. "I'm not picking it up. Can you see it?"

     "No," whispered Sylia. "Move forward five meters. That should give you better results with 
your hypersensors."

     "OK."

     Nene stepped forward slowly through the small piles of trash her senses alert for any-
thing. As she reached the first dumpster, her sensors caught a glimmer of movement near the 
dumpster farthest away. She had just enough time to recognize the Boomer before the Cyberdroid 
fired at her.

     She shifted to the right to avoid the beam of intense light. "Sylia!" she shouted. "It's 
charging!"

     "I see it," replied Sylia. "Stand by."  

     The Boomer's sensors registered the descending form of the white Knight Saber too late to 
react. She landed gracefully off to the Boomers right, laserswords ready. The lasersword cut 
clean through the Boomer's right arm, sending it spinning off into the darkness. The CU-5T 
reacted with an electronic scream of rage, and threw a massive left cross at her face.

     Sylia dodged just before the Boomer's attack would have punched through her helmet. She 
heard the impact of the Boomer's fist as she moved, the sound of concrete shattering behind her 
quite audible in the night air. She brought her right arm around   and up, tying to sever the 
Boomer's arm with her laser sword, but the Cyberdroid pulled its limb back in time.

     They continued to spar for several seconds, with the Boomer receiving the worst of the 
exchanges. Behind Sylia, Nene waited for a clear shot. Her Pulse strikers were ready, but the 
Boomer stayed too close to Sylia to fire. Nene wasn't sure the high frequency electrons 
wouldn't, fry Sylia's suit, and Sylia herself in the process. The alley was too narrow for Nene 
to maneuver for another firing position.

     Sylia knew that she had to get clear. "On three, Nene," she said, disengaging the laser-
swords and gauging the distance between her and the Boomer. "One . . . two . . . "

     She leapt into the air, shouting "Three," at the same instance. She felt the blast of high 
frequency electrons pass below her as she tucked into a backflip. She heard the pops and cracks 
of overloading circuitry as the Boomer took the brunt of Nene's assault.

     Sylia landed next to Nene, and glanced at the Boomer. It was still standing, but smoke and 
sparks poured from every joint. A fine network of cracks had appeared in the armor, and the 
Boomer's eyes glowed weakly.

     Without a word, Sylia raised her arms, and fired her lasers. The two beams of concentrated 
light punched through the Boomer's weakened armor, and finished the job. The Boomer 
disintegrated into a heap of metal and circuitry.

     Priss and Linna reached the mouth of the alley just in time to watch Sylia deliver the 
finishing blow to the Boomer. The four watched the remains smoke and spark for several seconds 
in silence.

     "Well, that was easy," said Linna.

     "Too damn easy," growled Priss. "The AD police should have been able to handle this with 
no sweat."

     "Well, they didn't," said Sylia. "Let's tell the AD police the threat has been dealt 
with."

     They turned and left the alley. None of them saw the shadow appear on the arcade's roof, 
and stare down at the dead Boomer. After several seconds, the shadow shrugged and melted into 
the darkness.  



Chapter 3



Over the Pacific Ocean
90 Minutes from MegaTokyo
December 21, 2035
4:12am MegaTokyo Standard Time


     "Sir? The Knights are ready for the briefing."

     Gregory Mallory opened his eyes slowly, and stared up at Brooks-Fenton's face. He nodded 
slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I'll be there in a minute."

     "Yes Sir." 

     He slowly got out of the seat he'd spent the last four hours sleeping in, and stretched. 
His private cabin on the MALCORP plane was small, but comfortable. It was one of the very few 
items he enjoyed as the Megacorp's CEO. It sure beats traveling in first class on a commer-
cial flight, he thought with a smile. In first class, they don't like you wearing green 
silk PJ's around the cabin.

     He used the small bathroom, but didn't bother changing. He ambled back to the main cabin 
as if he was still at home. Nearly a dozen people were sitting around a large oval table, and 
he nodded to them as he sat in the empty seat at the head of the table. He waited until Brooks- 
Fenton placed a large glass mug of tea in front of him.

     "Good morning, Knights," he said, trying hard to stifle a yawn. "Everyone did get some 
sleep, right?"

     Several half-hearted replies greeted him. Most of them were dressed no better then he was. 
He nodded. "If we're lucky, we get this done, and be home in time for Christmas."

     He took a sip of the hot tea before he continued. "Time to get serious here, Knights," he 
said. "This is an ALPHA class mission briefing. Red and Blue teams have heard it before, but I 
want everyone on the same page before we hit MegaTokyo airspace."

     He glanced at each of the people around the table. "The first thing I want to do is 
introduce Mary Pierce, Mike Dawes, and Jose De La Cruz, from the West Coast Unit of the Black 
Knights." He motioned to the three sitting at the far end of the table. "They're filling for 
Fran's White Team, and will be designated as such."

     "Now, the mission." Mallory pressed a button on the table before him. In the center of the 
table, a shaft of light formed. The three-dimensional image of a young girl appeared in the 
shaft and began to slowly rotate. She looked to be in her early teens, with long brown hair and 
a happy expression on her pretty face.

     "Janie VanDell," said Mallory with emotion. "Fourteen years old. An excellent student, 
better then average athlete, and a polite, well-behaved girl. Her favorite color is blue, likes 
horses and reading, hates spinach and loud noises."

     "Her father was Doctor Nathan VanDell, who was killed three days in an explosion at his 
lab located near New York City. The explosion wasn't an accident." 

     There was silence for a moment. Mallory continued. "Six hours after Doctor VanDell died, 
a small force of humans and Boomers raided the Doctor's house, eliminated or neutralize the 
security forces, and grabbed the girl."

     Jose De La Cruz frowned. He was a wiry man with a hooked nose and a brooding expression. 
"Why? What value does she have if her father is dead?"

     "Good question," replied Mallory. "We do know that Janie has a photographic memory, and 
she helped her father with his notes."

     "Have we found out yet what was VanDell working on when he was killed?" asked Marcus 
Jackson, a tall, broad-shouldered man with skin the color of old leather. "We didn't know when 
we tried to rescue Janie in New York."

     "We manage to locate one of Doctor VanDell's assistants five hours after the raid in New 
York," replied Mallory. "He had to attend the funereal of a relative in upper New York State, 
and was out of contact for two and a-half days. We managed to find him just before he went 
underground. He was scared, and after what he told us, I don't blame him."

     Harland Grace growled, "So tell us already!"

     "Doctor VanDell had perfected a viable personal force shield small enough to be worn by 
the average person."

     There was silence for a moment, mostly blank looks from the people around the table, until 
Nicky Yashida whistled. "He finally managed to do it, didn't he?" he asked.

     "You know about this?" asked Mallory.

     Yashida shook his head. "The actual product? No. But It doesn't surprise me."

     "Why not?" asked Grace.

     "VanDell was on the development team that managed to create the first stable force shield. 
It looks like he continued development on his own after the project was canceled." 

     De La Cruz shrugged. "I don't see it. Force shields have been around as more then theory 
for what, ten, fifteen years now. The ones I know about are clunky and not much use in a 
firefight. What's the big deal?"

     "The big deal is," said Mallory calmly. "The low energy requirement of this unit." 

     Yashida nodded. "The biggest problem in using a force shield has been the incredible 
amount of energy it took to power it for any length of time. That's why they've been clunky and 
not much use in a firefight, until now. Looks like VanDell managed to finally solve that energy 
problem." 

     "According to the assistant," continued Mallory. "The force shield generator VanDell 
worked on could fit in the palm of my hand. But the shield it creates could withstand the full 
energy discharge of a BU-55C's mouth laser at point blank range without shutting down."

     This brought a murmur of interest from the others. Yashida grinned. "I bet I could find a 
way to fit it into the Knights' hardsuits. Imagine being able to double the effective armor of 
the hardsuits without a major increase in weight."

     "Well," replied Grace. "Think about this, techboy. Think of a BU-12 able to take the 
firepower of an entire team of Knights with no problems."

     "Harland's right," said Mallory. "Boomers are tough enough now to take down. One equipped 
with VanDell's force shield would be almost impossible to take down short of massive firepower. 
A squad of them. . . ." He let the sentence hang there, and watched the faces of the people 
around the table.

     "Back to the mission. We tried to intercept the kidnappers when they made to leave New 
York, but ran into stronger opposition then we expected. We managed to eliminate most of the 
security Boomers, but were forced to pull out when the enemy deployed half a dozen BU-12C's to 
cover his retreat."

     Pierce nodded. She was tall, thin, with serious gray eyes and long red hair. "And Fran's 
team caught the ire of the Boomers."

     Mallory nodded. "By the time we pulled back and regrouped, the female Boomer had managed 
to slip her and Janie out of the area. We found out later the pair took a flight to MegaTokyo."

     "Do you think GENOM is behind this?" asked De La Cruz.

     "We don't know. I won't lie to you, Knights. Quincy himself could be behind this, a 
faction inside GENOM independent of the Chairman, or an outside group. We have people on the 
street right now trying to scrap together some answers for us, but I have no idea how much 
success they'll have."

     "So, we're going in blind?" asked Pierce in surprise.

     "Essentially, yes."

     "I don't like this," said De La Cruz.

     "Neither do I, Jose," replied Mallory. He turned his head to look at Brooks-Fenton. "Who's 
the head of the MegaTokyo security office?"

     "A Jeena Malso. She's a veteran of the MegaTokyo AD police - they handle their Boomer 
cases -" She glanced down at a reader in her lap. "Retired on a disability pension -- she lost 
an arm in the line of duty several years ago. She was hired six months after she left the 
force, became head of the security office two years ago. Her record shows she's smart, tough, 
and effective. If anyone can pull in a lead on Janie, she can."

     "Thank you, Marla. Any other questions?"

     Grace nodded. "What about the local talent, namely the Knight Sabers? I've read the 
reports our people have pulled together on them, and they could cause us trouble." 

     "We avoid contact with them - for now. I have several contacts putting out feelers in 
MegaTokyo, so I don't want us engaging in a full scale battle with them, if we can avoid it."

     "Oh? What do you have in mind?"

     Mallory shook his head slowly. "I'm not ready to reveal that yet. Any other comments?"

     There were none, and Mallory said. "I want Blue and White Teams to make a final check on 
their hardsuits now. I want Red Team to stay for a couple of minutes. That's all."

     The other teams filed out of the cabin, leaving Brooks-Fenton, Jackson, and Yashida alone 
with Mallory. He looked at them carefully. "Any comments?"

     "Greg, I don't like the idea of being on GENOM's home turf," said Jackson slowly.

     "Neither do I, Marcus," replied Mallory slowly, staring into his mug of tea. "But there's 
one scared fourteen-year-old somewhere in that city, and we are going to find her."

     "But is that the real reason?" asked Yashida quietly. He was thin man in his early 
twenties whose Asian ancestry showed in his facial features, while his Anglo ancestry was shown 
in his shoulder length blond hair. "I mean, a chance to secure a prize like a compact force 
shield is real tempting, Boss."

     "I know." Mallory took a deep breath. "Marla, care to add something to the discussion?"

     "The current state of Force shields is five years behind Doctor VanDell's work," she said 
slowly. "The question is, are you willing to risk that fourteen-year old's life for the 
information, assuming she has it?"

     Mallory shook his head. "My sole goal is to get Janie back home, safe and sound. Anything 
else takes second place. And I want you to remind me of that, should I start acting against 
that goal."

     Jackson nodded. "If you do," he said with a grin. "I'll wallop you into next Tuesday like 
I use to do."

     "Done." Mallory stood up. "Better go check the hardsuits one last time before we land."
  


MegaTokyo Airport
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
7:17am 

     "Did we really have to be here THIS early?" asked Nene, trying hard not to yawn, and 
failing miserably.

     "You're the one that wanted to come along," replied Sylia, looking up from her newspaper.

     "But did Mackie have to catch such an early flight?"

     They were sitting at a table in a cafe‚ inside the international terminal. Despite the 
relative earliness of the day, the terminal was crowded with passengers and airport employees.

     Sylia sipped her cup of coffee. "It was the only flight due in today that any seats left. 
When are you due in to work?"

     Nene glanced down at her AD police uniform, and grimaced. "Nine thirty."

     Sylia glanced at her watch. "If the plane's on time, he should be here in about twenty 
minutes."

     Nene sighed and sipped her tea. She looked around carefully, then whispered to Sylia 
"Anything on that Boomer attack last night?"

     Sylia didn't look up. "Nothing we didn't already know."

     "Leon looked pissed."

     "I don't blame him. The AD police. . . ." Sylia stopped and stared at something over 
Nene's right shoulder, a note of interest in her eyes. Nene turned and looked behind her, but 
saw nothing but a steady flow of people.

     She turned back to Sylia. "What's wrong?"

     Sylia stood up. "I just saw an old friend of Leon's."

     "Who, Daley?"

     "No, Jeena Malso." She folded her paper and walked out of the cafe, trailed by a puzzled 
Nene. They quickly merged into the flow of traffic, with Sylia taking the lead.

     "Leon's old partner?" asked Nene in a low voice. "Are you sure?"

     Sylia looked at her. "There can't be too many one-armed women who are over two meters tall 
living in MegaTokyo, right?"

     "Er . . . right. But why are we following her?"

     "Because there's been a major attempt to locate a certain girl in the last twenty-four 
hours here in MegaTokyo. Jeena's working for the corporation funding the search."

     "Maybe the CEO's hard up for a date," replied Nene with a shrug.

     Sylia ignored the comment. "Not any girl, one fourteen year old girl by the name of Janie 
VanDell."

     "Now, why would anyone want a fourteen-year-old girl?"

     Sylia shrugged. "I don't know. Fargo filled me in last night, before our mission against 
those Boomers. MALCORP is bankrolling the search, and they're throwing around a lot of money to 
find this girl."

     "How does Fargo know?"

     "Because he's one of the ones involved in the search. He told me, just in case MALCORP 
wants us to retrieve her."

     They stopped at an intersection. Sylia glanced around, but Nene spotted Jeena first. She 
tugged on Sylia's arm. "Over there!" she hissed.

     The woman had just past through a door marked PRIVATE GATE: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. A 
pair of security Boomers stood near the door, along with several humans that Sylia quickly 
identified as security types. Without slowing, Sylia guided Nene away from the door and its 
guard, and over to a waiting area with a large window overlooking the tarmac.

     "Now what?" whispered Nene.

     Sylia said nothing, but watched several planes until she spotted the one she was looking 
for. A large sleek design with the word MALCORP painted on the side was maneuvering into place. 
She whispered to Nene, "Over there."

     They watched the passengers deplane quickly. There were over a dozen of them, both men and 
women. The analytical part of Sylia's mind noted that they were all human, no Boomers among 
them. Another thing she noted that several of them walked with the careful grace that only 
comes from spending time in a hardsuit. Sylia's eyes narrowed as she watched the rest of the 
passengers deplane. Her instincts were alert to the sight before her.

     Jeena was standing at the bottom of the stairs, her hair blowing wildly in the wind. When 
a tall, lean man reached the bottom of the steps, Jeena stepped forward to meet him, her hand 
outstretched. The man took it, and they shook hands. They talked for several minutes, then 
Jeena led the man and the others to several cars that had pulled up while the passengers had 
been deplaning. Within minutes, the cars drove away, leaving the tarmac empty save for airport 
personnel.

     "Now what?" asked Nene. "We watched a bunch of corporate suits get off an airplane. Big 
deal."

     "It very well could be," replied Sylia, turning away from the window. "When you get into 
work, I want to dig up all you can on MALCORP and Janie VanDell."

     "Well, OK. But I don't know why you want the info."

     "Call it a hunch." Sylia glanced down at her watch. "We'd better be going. Mackie's plane 
lands in ten minutes."



MegaTokyo Airport Highway
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
7:38am 

     Mallory waited until the small convoy had left the airport tarmac before he addressed 
Malso. "What's the latest on the search for Janie VanDell?"

     Malso, sitting in the seat across from Mallory, looked tired. "We've got feelers out, plus 
my contacts inside the AD Police are working hard on it. But nothing yet."

     Mallory nodded. "In a city this big, It would be difficult to expect immediate results."

     Malso shrugged. "The word's out on the street that we're looking for the girl. It's a sure 
bet that the bad guys are busy burying themselves deep right now."

     "It can't be helped," replied Mallory. "We're not playing  this one in our own ball park." 

     Brooks-Fenton asked Malso "How's GENOM reacting to the search?"

     "Hard to tell. Quincy's not one to advertise his next move."

     "Increase the pressure," said Mallory, leaning back in his seat. "We can't back off now. I 
want to push as hard as I can before GENOM pushes back."

     "Assuming they're behind Janie's kidnaping," replied Malso.

     "Either way, it's a sure bet that GENOM will take an interest in the situation. So, we can 
expect trouble. What's the current security status of our holdings here?"

     "Level Two Yellow."

     "As of right now, it's Level One Red. I want our people ready for anything GENOM might 
throw at us."

     Malso reached for the phone. "What about the people we have looking for VanDell?"

     "I want all the freelancers on our list looking for her."

     "All of them?"

     Mallory nodded. "Also, Increase the reward for Janie to a million Yen."

     Malso's eyebrows went up. "I may go out on the street for that."

     Mallory shook his head. "I need you to ride herd on the search. What's the likelihood of 
the AD police getting involved should this turn into a shooting war?"

     "Right now, the AD police are a joke," replied Malso, the disgust clear in her voice. 
"They've been saddled with more restrictions then a nymph in a nunnery. Right now, the pizza 
delivery guys have better firepower then they do. They're having problems with simple Boomer 
outbreaks they would've handled with no sweat two years ago. The current chief doesn't know his 
head from a hole in the ground, and morale so damn low, you'll have to dig to find it."

     "That bad?" asked Brooks-Fenton with a straight face.

     "If you're talking Personnel, they are the best. The senior field commanders, McNichols 
and Wong, are good at taking down Boomers. But the big boys don't want them doing too good a 
job."

     "Make the call, Jeena," said Mallory quietly. "We have enough problems to deal with right 
now."

     They rode in silence for the rest of the trip.



MegaTokyo Airport
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
7:49am 

     Mackie Stingray looked around for his sister in the crowd, but the mass of humanity made 
it difficult to pick her out. He adjusted the carryall's strap, and began to look for a place 
he could sit for a couple of minutes. Where could she be? he thought, just as his eyes 
found a row of empty seats off to his left. Could she have gotten stuck in traffic, or -

     "MACKIE!"

     He turned just in time to catch sight of Nene dashing the last few meters between them. 
Before he could react, she barreled into him like a runaway truck. In an eye blink, Mackie was 
sprawled on the carpet, Nene lying on top of him. "Hi Nene," he said weakly. "Miss Me?"

     Nene stared down at him. "Sorry, Mackie," she replied, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. 
"I sort . . . of . . . you know, misjudge the . . . er . . . distance." 

     In the past, Mackie might have enjoyed this, but the flight from Germany had been long. 
"Can I get up, please?"

     "Let him up, Nene," said Sylia, a faint smile on her lips. Mackie knew her well enough 
that she was trying hard not to laugh. "You're drawing a crowd."

     Nene shot to her feet like a rocket, the blush becoming stronger. Mackie got up on his 
own, slower then Nene. "Hey Sis," he said, brushing himself off.

     Sylia still looked amused. "How was your flight?"

     "Tiring. I want a shower, then sleep for several hours."

     "Good. You have your luggage?"

     "Yep."

     "Then let's get out of here. We have to drop Nene off at work first."

     "Aw, Sylia."

     "Don't worry," replied Sylia, carefully putting on her sunglasses. "You can ride in the 
passenger seat with Mackie."

     "Great!"

     Mackie sighed. "How's things been lately?" he asked Sylia.

     "Busy. In all areas. I'll fill in the details when we're in the car."




Chapter 4

GENOM Tower
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
8:26am 

     Quincy stared out the office window. "What is the latest on MALCORP's search for Janie 
VanDell?"

     A tall, thin man with thick glasses answered him. "They haven't found her yet."

     Quincy exhaled slowly. "Mr. Faust, I knew that much when I awoke this morning. How close 
are they to finding her?"

     Faust adjusted his glasses. "Mallory and his people landed at the airport about an hour 
ago. We've just learned they've planned to increase their presence on the street. They've also 
increased their reward for finding the girl to a million Yen."

     "Indeed?" Quincy stared out the window for a full ten seconds before he continued. "I want 
our security at all GENOM facilities increased to maximum."

     "Yes sir."

     "What has GENOM New York discovered about the `event' that occurred on the morning of the 
20th?"

     "It appears that half a dozen BU-55C were escorting a girl that fit the description of 
Janie VanDell out of the Fairline Hotel. They had managed to reach the street when they were 
attacked by at least half a dozen individuals wearing advanced design hardsuits."

     Quincy turned to look at Faust. "Black hardsuits with dark gold highlights?"

     "Yes Sir."

     Quincy turned back to the window. "What happened then?"

     "The entire unit of BU-55Cs was quickly eliminated, but then another half dozen BU-12C 
Combat Boomers were released from a nearby tractor trailer. They drew the attention of the 
attackers until the sole C-series Female Boomer and the girl escaped."

     "Has the destroyed Boomers been traced yet?"

     "Yes Sir." Faust adjusted his glasses before continuing. "The serial numbers match models 
that have been reported missing or destroyed over the last two years, from GENOM facilities all 
over the world."

     "I see." Quincy turned and sat.  He leveled his gaze at Faust. "Someone is using GENOM to 
hide themselves, and I don't like it."

     "No Sir."

     "Alert all GENOM towers. I want all reports on missing or destroyed Boomers for the last 
three years reexamined. Any reports that cannot be verified, I want forwarded here. I want a 
team of our best researchers to pull apart those reports, starting with the ones `discovered' 
in New York. I want a solid number of Boomers that GENOM is missing."

     "Yes Sir."

     "I want the report in twenty-four hours."

     Faust's mouth dropped open in shock, but he quickly recovered. "Anything else?"

     "I want you to head this project. You have the highest priority for the next twenty-four 
hours. Dismissed."

     Faust left quickly, and Quincy turned and stared out the window again. His smile was cold 
as he watched the city below him.



G&B Research lab G-46
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
8:57am 

     Mclaren stalked down the corridor, his face twisted up in anger.

     The corridor was narrow, its walls a dull gray in color. The floor was the same shade of 
gray. Even the ceiling was gray. Even the sliding doors he was approaching was the same gray. 
The only thing that wasn't gray was the white lab coat he wore. He hated it all - the gray 
corridors, the lack of female . . . companionship, but most of all, he hated the man he was 
working for.

     The doors opened as he reached them. He passed through them without slowing. "Bradley!" he 
snapped in English. "What in hell do you want now?" 

     The man he was addressing was standing on a platform in the middle of the room. He turned 
slowly to look at Mclaren. Tall and lean, Carlton Bradley looked every bit a successful 
businessman. He also has the soul of a snake, thought Mclaren. Worse then his father 
ever was.

     "Ah, Doctor Mclaren," replied Bradley, also in English. "I have some interesting infor-
mation you should be interested in."

     "And what's that?"

     "We have come into possession of plans for a stronger force shield."

     "Oh?" Mclaren put as much contempt as he could into his voice. He didn't dare ask how 
Bradley came into possession of the plans. "Better then those shield generators you had me 
install on these two CU-5Ts from DARSTAR?"

     "Oh, much stronger, Doctor, much stronger." If Bradley was irritated at Mclaren, he didn't 
show it. "If the figures check out, they should be strong enough to withstand five times the 
punishment of the designs in the CU-5Ts."

     "Five times? At what power cost? Those generators took 30 percent of the CU-5T's total 
power output, and barely lasted four minutes against simple firearms!"

     "It was disappointing that the shields had failed by the time the Knight Sabers arrived on 
the scene," replied Bradley with a shrug. "But the figures show that we can cut back the power 
usage with the new design to as low as 15 percent."

     Mclaren glared at Bradley. "When can I see the design?"

     "In a couple of days." Bradley's face became a mask, and his voice grew cold. "Remember, 
Doctor. You are here only at my sufferance. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, 
you're still sitting in prison, serving a thirty-year term for designing an illegal combat 
Boomer. I got you out with no one the wiser, I can put you back just as easily."

     "Has anyone told you that you're a real Bastard?"

     Bradley's smile was cold. "My parents were married to each other before I was born, 
despite my father's extra . . . activities. I will talk to you tomorrow. Good bye, Doctor." 
With the last word still echoing in the chamber, Bradley's image faded from the platform.

     Mclaren clenched his fists and stared at the platform for a long time. 



AD Police Headquarters
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
9:09am 

     Nene slipped into the main squad room unnoticed by the rest of the officers. "Hey guys!" 
she said brightly. "How are things?. . . . " Her voice trailed off as she realized that 
everyone was looking at the chief's office, despite the fact the shades had been drawn. She 
slid up to one of the officers nearest the door. "Hey, Rob!" she hissed. "What's happening in 
the chief's office?"

     Robert Madson, one of the AD police's computer techs, whispered to her out of the corner 
of his mouth. "Ten minutes ago, Leon came through here like a rampaging Boomer, and made a 
beeline for the chief's office. He slammed the door shut and pulled the shades."

     "And that's it?"

     "We haven't heard any shots yet, so I guess the Chief's still breathing."

     Nene opened her mouth to argue, but changed her mind. "It's about last night's Boomer 
incident in District 6, isn't it?"

     Madson nodded and readjusted his glasses. "The final AD casualties' list was ten dead, 
another fifteen wounded. About the same numbers for the civilians who got caught in the 
crossfire. So, Leon's got reason to be pissed."

     "Oh no," said Nene in dismay. "Did they manage to stop them?"

     "The Knight Sabers showed up and took down both Boomers very quickly. I don't think that 
helped Leon's temper any."

     The door to the chief's office flew open, and Leon stalked out, his face a mask of fury. 
Daley trailed behind, looking stunned.

     "I think it's time to clear out," murmured Madson. "See you later, Nene." With that, the 
officer slipped out of the room.

     Leon's stride didn't slow as he headed for the door. Nene thought about speaking to him 
before he got past her, but the hard look he gave her decided for her. She stepped aside and 
smiled weakly at him, but he ignored her and strode out of the room.

     She stared out after him, then decided she needed to talk to him. Before she could move, 
she felt a hand on her arm. She turned to see a worried-looking Daley standing there. 

     "We have to talk, Nene," he said grimly. "Let's go to the cafeteria. I'm buying."



Chapter 5



Warehouse #41526584
Yokohama Warehouse District
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 21, 2035
9:14am

     Mallory watched as the hardsuits were unloaded from the specially designed packing crates. 
Brooks-Fenton and Jackson stood next to him.

     The warehouse was buried among a hundred others in an industrial park located on the edge 
of the district. Despite its age, it was still sound and secured. A large truck stood in the 
center of the warehouse. Most of the unloading was being done by the Knights themselves, aided 
with an equal number of technicians. For as long as the Knights stayed in MegaTokyo, this would 
be their headquarters.

     "What's the earliest the hardsuits can be ready?" asked Mallory.

     "Give them another hour to unpack the suits," said Jackson. "Two more hours to bring the 
systems on-line, and another two hours to fix any problems. They should be ready by three this 
afternoon."

     Mallory nodded. "Good. Marla, how does my schedule look for the next several days?"

     "You have a dinner for this evening with the senior members of MALCORP Japan office at 
seven o'clock. Tomorrow, you're touring several of the properties MALCORP operates here. There 
are several invitations from other corporations for meetings at your convenience. Malso is 
pulling intelligence reports together on those corporations for our review."

     "Any from GENOM?"

     "Not yet, But I suspect it'll be here before the day is out."

     "Pick out the best three invitations, and tell them I accept. The others apologize to 
profusely, and ask if they will meet with a representative of mine. If GENOM does pass along an 
invitation, accept it. I want to see Quincy, face to face."

     "And who are you going to send to those meetings you managed to avoid?" asked Jackson.

     "You and a couple of the other Knights."

	"Great."

     "You're an Executive Vice President of MALCORP," reminded Mallory. "It would look bad if I 
sent a simple flunky."

     "So you're going to send a complex flunky instead," replied Jackson, without a hint of 
rancor.

     "Exactly," said Mallory with a smile. "And if you complain, I'll send Malso along as your 
bodyguard."

     "I give in. I'll go quietly, Boss."

     "What about Malso?" asked Brooks-Fenton. "Do we include her in on the fact the Knights are 
here?" 

     Mallory's face became thoughtful. They had dropped Malso off at the MALCORP office before 
coming here. "We keep this on a need to know basis for now. Right now, she doesn't need to 
know."

     "Understood sir."

     Mallory turned to Jackson. "Tell the Knights that once the hardsuits are on-line to get 
some rest. I want all teams ready to move out by midnight. Hopefully we'll have something for 
them to go after by then." 

     He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Jackson. "I want you and Nicky to visit someone 
about eleven tonight and give them this. The address is on the envelope. Wear you hardsuits 
when you do - I want this man to take you seriously."

     "Sure Boss." Jackson looked at the envelope. "Just one question though. What is it?"

     "A message for the Knight Sabers. The man you're delivering this to is a contact of 
theirs. Name's Fargo. He'll make sure the Knight Sabers get it." He held up a small trans-
mitter, "Also, attach this to him, without him noticing, when you give him the envelope."

     Jackson gave him a long searching look. "Let me guess, you're going to play Captain Solo 
again, right?"

     "I need to get a feel for the city, and the players."

     "Don't give me that. I know you too damn well." He broke out in a grin. "You want to go 
bouncing around MegaTokyo in a hardsuit because it's fun."

     Greg smiled. "That's part of the reason."

     "You're the Boss." He pocketed the envelope. "Me and Nicky will make sure our man is 
suitable impressed with our style. What are you going to do now?"

     "Me?" Mallory's smile became larger. "I'm going to visit an old friend. See you in a 
while."



AD Police Headquarters
District 3
December 21, 2035
9:23am 

     "HE DID WHAT?"

     The Cafeteria was almost deserted at this time of the morning, but there were still enough 
people around to turn and stare at Nene's shout of disbelief. Daley gripped her arm and hissed, 
"Will you keep it down?"

     Nene leaned toward Daley, and repeated her question in a whisper. "Leon did what?"

     Daley released his grip, and sat back in the booth. "He quit. Resigned, abdicated,
renounce his position -"

     "I get the point, Daley," growled Nene. "But why?"

     "Last night, the call we had in district 6?"

     Nene nodded. "I heard on the television. A couple of CU-5Ts, or something similar, right?"

     Daley nodded. "We should have been able to handle a couple of those types, with no heavy 
weapons or help from the Knight Sabers."

     "So what happened?" 

     "When we got the call, Leon told me to set up a blocking force at one end of the street 
the Boomers were traveling along. He planned to use the other half of the units to force the 
Boomers toward us, and then catch them in a crossfire." He paused to look down at the coffee 
cup before him. "I set up right where we agreed, and waited for the Boomers to come to us."

     "And it went wrong?"

     "Very wrong." He took a sip of the coffee, then looked at Nene. "Five minutes after we set 
up, Leon reported the Boomers were heading for my position. He told us that he hadn't shot at 
them yet, so they were still intact. Thirty seconds later, we saw them coming at us. Because 
this design didn't have thrusters, I waited until they were fifty meters from us before I 
ordered the troopers to open fire."

	"But the Boomers didn't go down, did they?"

     "No." His stare was making Nene uncomfortable. "I had two dozen troopers firing at those 
damn Boomers, and the bullets just bounced off them."

     "They had extra armor?" asked Nene, thinking quickly about the Boomers the Knight Sabers 
fought last night. They hadn't looked as if they had extra armor on their frames . . . 

     Daley shook his head. "They each had a force shield strong enough to deflect our fire for 
several minutes."

     "A force shield?" Nene's eyes widen as she realized what he was saying. "Are you sure?" 

     "I'm sure. I stood there and watched several hundred assault rounds deflected off the 
Boomers as if they were raindrops."

     "But that's not possible!" Nene hissed, fighting to keep her voice low. "The technology is 
not advanced enough to equip a Boomer with a force shield!"

     "I thought the same way until last night."

     "Then what happened?"

     Daley took another sip from his coffee. "Leon showed up, and we caught them in a crossfire 
like we had planned We hammered them for several more minutes before their shields gave way, 
and we started to finally damaging them."

     "But you didn't finish them off."

     "We didn't get the chance. When our fire slackened to change clips, the Boomers charged 
the blocking force. They managed to get in among us, and it got nasty." He sipped his coffee 
yet again, then looked down into the cup, as if looking for something. "We lost three officers 
in fifteen seconds. Then the Boomers took off down the street, and we're left with more body 
bags to fill."  

     "And Leon quit over that?"

     "Not entirely. I think last night was the final straw." He looked up at her again."Nene, 
these new rules are killing us out there. If we had the support Chief Todo use to give us, we 
could have nailed these Boomers before they did half the damage they caused last night."

     "What about the Boomers remains? Have they been examined for the shield generators? Maybe 
if you showed the Chief what you went up against, he'd relax the rules."

     "Tried that already. DARSTAR reclaimed the Boomers before we got a chance to look them 
over, and the Chief told us not to press them."

     "And that sent Leon off?"

     "Like a volcano. He didn't hold back, told the chief to go to hell, then got really 
abusive. At the end, he told the chief to take the job, and stick it. He then stalked out."

     "So, why tell me all this?" Nene looked around. "I'm not a very important person around 
here."

     "Oh yes, you are," said Daley with a small smile. "I'm now the AD Police's senior field 
commander, and as of five minutes ago, you're a Sergeant. And you are now the AD Police's new 
Computer Security Officer."

     "WHAT?"

     "You know the ADP computers systems better then the designers do, Nene. The first thing we 
need to do is secure our own data systems."

     "Who am I replacing?"

     Daley smiled. "No one. The position's been open for six months now. You'll have one other 
person in your department, and for some reasons I won't go into now, he can't accept the 
position as head of the department. But he's a solid, reliable guy who won't mind you taking 
over."

     "I...all right," replied Nene. "I'll accept the promotion, and the new position."

     "Don't thank me yet. I need you to do some stuff for me, the same way you use to do for 
Leon."

     Nene sighed. "All right. What's the first?"

     "Hack into Leon's personal files, and make a note that's he's on vacation."

     "What?"

     "It shouldn't be a problem. I know he's got at least a month's worth of vacation time he 
hasn't used."

     "But he quit."

     "Nene, only four people know that. You, Me. Leon, and the Chief. The Chief knows squat 
about the computer system here, Leon's not going to be around for a while, and I'm not going to 
tell anyone." 

     "Then you think he'll be back?"

     "He had better be," growled Daley. "I'm not cut out for field command. Give me a nice 
involved investigation any day. But Leon's born for this type of responsibility. In his case, 
it's a large dose of duty, a touch of looking cool for the girls, and blowing up things."

     "I never heard Leon described that way," replied Nene with a small smile.

     "I know him better then most. Give him several days, and he'll be back. And I'll be glad 
to give the job back."

     "OK, Daley, I'll do it."

     "Good." Daley leaned forward. "The second thing I need to you to do is organize a small 
group of the AD Police Computer people to do some `special jobs'."

     Nene eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

     "Like breaking into certain corporation data banks, and retrieving information on 
Boomers."

     Nene just stared at him in disbelief. Daley sighed. "I see you want more details before 
you'll agree."

     "Yes. A lot more details!"

     "Fine." Daley drained his cup. "We are facing new Boomer designs every day, and GENOM 
doesn't supply a lot of data to us about them. We need to know about as much as we can about 
these designs, find their weakness, and develop tactics to fit in with what resources we have 
on hand."

     Nene closed her eyes. "And you're not going to tell anyone else where you're getting the 
data from."

     "Scouts' honor. I'm tired of filling body bags."

     "All right." Nene was slightly surprised as she spoke those words. "I'll do it on three 
conditions."

     "Name them."

     "First, all the data and other stuff we find go from me to you directly. No middlemen, no 
one else."

     "Agreed, but if Leon comes back, we include him on this little operation." 

     Nene nodded. "Second, I want to keep the identities of the group members I select for this 
operation to myself. You, or Leon, don't try to find out who's in my group." 

     "Fair enough. And the third?"

     "We're going to need equipment, supplies, and a location to work out of. We can't do it 
here, and take the chance to have anyone trace it back to us."

     "I've got contacts," replied Daley, standing up. "Anything else?"

     "Give me a couple of days to pull a group together, and we'll take it from there."

     "Good." Nene thought Daley looked more relaxed then he had several minutes ago. "We'll 
take later. See you." He walked away.

     Nene nodded to him, and stood up slowly. Her mind was already working on the new problems 
Daley had presented to her. She smiled. Things had just gotten interesting . . . 



Raven's Garage
Timex City
December 21, 2035
9:56am

     Priss was tired. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, because of the Boomers 
assault in District 6. It didn't help any she had to be at Raven's garage early so Dr. Raven 
could make some adjustments to her cycle. He'd insisted on this morning because of several 
other projects he was involved in would take the rest of the day. 

     She leaned on her bike, and tried to stop yawning. Dr. Raven had opened his garage as 
usual. But for some reason, he kept being interrupted by phone calls. He'd just started making 
the last of the adjustments when the phone rang again. Mumbling something about strangling 
someone named Bell, he stalked off to answer the phone in his small office. 

     Through the small office window, Priss could see him waving his free hand in irritation as 
he talked loudly into the phone. She smiled tiredly as she wondered who was on the receiving 
end of the tirade. I hope it's some GENOM telemarketer. By the time Pop's finished with him, 
he'll be singing soprano.

     Her smile faded as she thought about music. Things hadn't been going well lately in THAT 
area of her life. Near the end of October, the rest of the band had marched into her dressing 
room at Hot Legs, and told her that she was out of the group. She winced at the memories of the 
argument, and her fury at the guys for the "Betrayal," as she called it. 

     The band members had responded to her tirade by taking turns dragging out every practice 
she'd missed, sets they had to cut short because she'd run off somewhere, and performances they 
had to cancel, all because she couldn't be found. Even Kaho, the laid backed drummer, let his 
anger show as he told her bluntly that she was becoming too much of a liability for the band to 
shoulder. She stalked out of the dressing room after that, and hadn't been back to Hot Legs 
since.

     What am I going to do now? she thought. Start again with a new band? Not likely. 
No one else wants me. GENOM has seen to that.

     Her blue funk dissolved as she watched a large car turn onto the road that ran in front of 
Raven's garage. It slowed to a stop in front of the garage door, and the car's four doors 
opened. Priss straightened, and watched with interest.

     Four people got out. Two Priss quickly tagged as bodyguards, having neither the size nor 
bulk of a disguised Boomer. The third was a slim, attractive woman, with red hair and bright 
green eyes that reminded Priss of a mature Nene, in a severe business suit. She deferred to a 
tall and lean man with dark hair cut short and away from his face. He wore sunglasses, and 
something about the way he moved peaked Priss's interest.

     He walked into the garage, trailed by the woman and one of the bodyguards. The other one 
stayed out near the car. They looked around slowly, all three for different reasons, before the 
man spotted Priss leaning against her bike.

     The leader removed his sunglasses. In the glare from the overhead lights, Priss noticed 
that one of his eyes was green blue in color, while the other was a cold gray. He smiled at 
her. "Excuse me, Miss," he said in stilted, but fluent Japanese. "Is Doctor Raven around?"

     "He's in his office over there," Priss replied in English. "He shouldn't be more then a 
couple of minutes."

     If the man was surprised, he didn't show it. "We can wait a couple of minutes," he replied 
in English.

     "What do you want with Pops?" Priss asked, pushing herself off the bike to stand next to 
it.

     The man smiled. "You call him Pops?"

     Priss shrugged. "Sure, everyone does."

     "I doubt that. When I was younger, I use to call him Pops, and he'd get irritated and 
grumpy. I doubt age has mellowed him any." 

     "It hasn't." Priss managed to look casual, but her thoughts were anything but. When he 
was younger? He knows Pops?

     "That's what I thought. You know him for long?"

     Priss began to fell uncomfortable under the man's gaze. "Four or five years. He keeps my 
motorcycle running."

     "And I bet you manage to keep Pops more then busy on a regular basis with your cycle."

     "I do my fair share." She folded her arms. "Here he comes now."

     Raven was still mumbling something about Bell when he strode out of the office. He slowed 
his pace as he saw the visitors. "Can I help you?" he asked bluntly, as he stopped several 
meters from the trio.

     The man smiled at him. "Your eyesight's going, Pops," he said lightly. "Or you memory. I 
still have that toy Boomer you made for my tenth birthday."

     Priss saw Raven stiffen, and his jaw dropped in surprise. "Greg?" he whispered. "Greg 
Mallory?"

     "The same, Pops." The man held out a hand. "Mother told me to say hello."

     Raven stepped forward and took the offered hand. Mallory turned it into a warm hug. "It's 
good to see you, Pops. It's been what, twelve years?"

     They released the hug, and Raven stepped back. Priss saw the older man's eyes watering. 
"About that. How's your mother?"

     "Well. It took her some time to get over Father's death, but I found her a project to 
occupy her mind. I think she's always been more comfortable in the lab then she ever was at 
social gatherings."

     "That's true. What brings you back here?"

     "Business. MALCORP has some investments here, and I'm thinking about expanding the 
operation some."

     Priss sighed loudly enough to earn a glare from Raven. Mallory smiled at Priss again, and 
she felt the urge to punch him. It must have shown on her face, because Mallory said, "Why 
don't you take care of this young lady first, and then we'll talk?"

     "I won't be long. Care to wait in my office?"

     "Sure." He turned to the bodyguard. "Tell Remus we'll be in the office."

     The man nodded and walked out to talk to the other bodyguard. Mallory guided the woman 
over to the office, while Raven pulled a tool from a pocket. He knelt beside Priss's bike, and 
began to make adjustments. Priss squatted beside him.

     "Who's the suit?" she asked.

     "The son of an old colleague," he replied tersely.

     "I figure that out," she hissed. "But who is he?"

     "Later. Are you going to see Sylia today?"

     "I hadn't planned on it."

     "Then your plans just got changed. Tell Sylia that Greg Mallory is here in MegaTokyo." 

     "But why?"

     "Just tell her, all right?"   

     "Is this guy dangerous or something?"

     Raven shook his head. "Not that. He's here for something else. Sylia knows him when they 
were younger, and I doubt he's changed that much in the last twelve years. Just tell Sylia, and 
let her take the appropriate course of action." He stood, and said loudly "I'm finished. Will 
you PLEASE refrain from riding the cycle so hard in the future?"

     Priss climbed on the bike, and started it "Sure, Pops," she replied, slipping her helmet 
on. She revved the engine up slowly, feeling the power in the finally tuned machine under her. 
Suddenly, she gunned the engine, and put the cycle into gear. She shot forward, leaving a trail 
of smoke and burnt rubber behind her. She grinned maniacally as the bodyguard stationed near 
the car was forced to dive for cover as the motorcycle burst out of the garage. She slid the 
cycle into a hard right turn, and flew off down the street. She didn't look back.  


  

	

		
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