Bubblegum Crisis and its characters belong to Youmex, Inc. and AnimEigo, Inc.


Special thanks to Kahm and Nightraven, for reading, editing and putting up
with me.


Passages

Chapter 1:   Secrets of Self
-----------------------------------
By She-Hulk (brobinso@neocomm.net)


	The motorcycle throbbed powerfully between her legs as she increased the
speed and passed a
slow-moving truck. The lights from an oncoming car reflected off of her
helmet and she swerved back into
her lane just as it reached her. The driver leaned on his horn in protest,
but Priss was long gone. She let
the speed drop from ludicrous down to reckless. God, she loved the streets
at night!

	 Street lamps lit patches of road every fifty feet, like great stepping
stones in the night and she
flew across them. Priss felt the speed tear at her clothes, screaming in
frustration when it failed to shred
her leathers. She laughed and began to play a game of  'dodge the lights'
swerving around the bright
circles, always staying in the shadows. A shrill beep halted her game and
she reluctantly began to slow,
bringing her faithful steed to a halt beside the road.

	She touch a small switch on the side of her helmet, mentally cursing
herself for letting Silia
install a radio inside. "What?!" A burst of static answered her and she
cursed out loud this time, as she
turned the volume down. "Damn it! What do you want Silia?" 

	The laugh that replied was silk. "I seem to have caught you at a bad time."

	Priss ignored a little shiver at the sound. "Yeah, well you wouldn't use
this thing unless you had a
good reason. What's up?"

	"A boomer, what else? It's tearing up district seven. AD  police units
haven't been effective in
stopping it." She ignored Priss' derisive snort. "Mackie is in route to you
with your suit." A large red truck
pulled off the road beside Priss as she spoke.

	"Do you guys plan this timing thing? He just pulled up."

	"It comes from being organized." Silia watched the picture that the video
link in Priss' helmet
was sending back. Priss would be furious if she knew, but then Silia had no
intention of her ever finding
out. The one problem with the link was that even though she'd seen Priss'
reckless stunt with the truck,
she couldn't say anything. She saw Mackie wave at Priss and continued, "Get
suited up and meet us there.
ETA ten minutes."

	Priss drove her bike into the back of the truck and began to undress. She
pulled her jacket off and
threw it over a stack of electronic equipment. She could just hear the
faint groan of disappointment from
Mackie in the front. "You wish, sport." 

	The seals of her hard suit hissed as they pressurized and she slipped her
helmet on with a sigh.
"Another night in the can." The visor locked into position and she climbed
onto her armored motorcycle.
The engine roared to life like a wounded bull and Priss smiled in delight.
"Well, if I've got to chase
defective Genom toys all night, at least I get to do it in style.”

	 “Okay Mackie, open her up." The side door of the truck opened and the arm
that the bike was
attached to swung her and it outside. It slowly lowered her to street level
and she hit the release switch.
The wheels screamed in protest as they met the rushing asphalt, but a burst
of speed matched the pace.
Priss twisted the accelerator and shot past the truck. She gave a jaunty
wave and steered straight for the
center of chaos.

	The streets were deserted except for AD police units, who did nothing to
stop her as she zoomed
past. A rookie saw the armored figure racing towards them and reached for
his gun, but a hand on his
shoulder stopped him. He turned to find Lt. McNichol standing beside him.
They both watched in silence
as the Knight Saber flew past them. "You have a lot to learn. Remember that
armor. That was one of the
good guys. The bad guys are a little harder to identify, but at least we
can shoot them." He walked away,
leaving the rookie more confused than ever.



         + + + + +

	Linna executed a series of back flips away from the boomer as it tried to
crush her with a police
car. She landed neatly, the air shocks absorbing the impact with a metallic
'ching'. Silia fired a shot
through the car's gas tank and it exploded, engulfing the boomer. As the
fire died down they saw it still
standing there in the rubble, unharmed. Linna turned to Silia.

	"And that accomplished what?" 

	"Well, it can't throw it at you now."

	Nene spoke up. "I think it's tired of waiting for us." Indeed, the boomer
had started to move
toward them. 

	"I can't leave you three alone for a second, can I?" Priss’ voice was
sarcastic as she opened fire on
the boomer. She had shifted the motorcycle into battle armor and the heavy
impulse cannon left a sizable
hole in the side of the boomer. It staggered back, but didn't fall and
Priss smiled grimly as she fired again.
The boomer's upper body disappeared with the next shot. Priss lowered her
gun and watched, amazed as
the lower portion began to walk in circles. "Damn. I'd shoot it again
Silia, but that would be adding insult
to injury."

	Nene burst out laughing, then Linna started and so on.  It was the return
of the AD police that
finally brought a halt to their merriment. They reluctantly departed and
left the headless boomer for them
to deal with.
	


         + + + + +


Silky Doll, Inc.

	Silia leaned back against the wall of the sauna and considered her team.
They had done well
tonight. Linna had been in top form and Nene had been on target with her
scan of the boomer. Priss had
even followed orders for once. 

	Priss stretched out face down on one of the benches and let her muscles
melt in the heat. Adding
this sauna had been the best idea Silia had ever come up with, well,
besides the new rail gun design. The
tension began to flow out of her and she was soon asleep.

	Linna rolled her head, stretching the tight muscles in her neck and
mentally ran over a list of her
appointments tomorrow. She propped her feet up on the bench in front of her
and began reviewing her
investment knowledge of each client.

	Nene yawned and wondered if Silia had anything to eat.



         + + + + +

Hot Legs, the next night....


	Priss let the wave of applause wash over her as she drew out the last
note. The crowd was wild
tonight and she had poured everything into her performance. As the
accolades continued, she let herself
draw from the high of the audience, taking back a mere fraction of what
she’d given. She tossed her mike
to the lead guitarist and headed back stage, carefully weaving her way
through the tangled web of cables
that covered the floor. 

	She pushed her way into her dressing room and began the tiresome process
of removing her
heavy stage makeup. The title of ‘dressing room’ may have been stretching a
point. She did dress and
undress in the room, but when she wasn’t it served as the stock room for
the bar. She wiggled out of the
tight black leather mini skirt and tossed it into the empty liquor box that
served as her closet. Her heavy
wig followed and she reached for her street clothes. A sigh of pure
pleasure escaped her as she pulled on
her red leather motorcycle pants and the irony of the two garments hit her.
“Leather for pleasure and
leather for pay. I should probably expand my wardrobe a little.” But the
feel of leather was one vice that
she would not give up. Not that she had any intention of giving up her
others. 

	Fire flared as she struck a match, illuminating her face in an eerie glow.
For a brief moment the
flame reveled a side of her that no one saw. It was the awareness of the
power in the tiny spark she cradled
in her hands, as she brought it to the tip of her cigarette. The awareness
of the destruction that the little
piece of burning wood could do if not controlled. Priss watched the fire
creep hungrily towards her
fingers.

	 Deep within the confines of her hard suit she could let herself burn in a
controlled inferno,
purging her anger and fear. She could embrace the darkest side of her
nature and use it for something
other than senseless destruction. The other team members would be surprised
to find that she didn’t really
enjoy the rages that she flew into. She had, in fact, spent her life trying
to rein in her temper. But she felt
everything deeply and that made it difficult to remain balanced. The flame
licked at her fingers and a
sharp breath extinguished it. <Another life ends.>

	Priss mounted her motorcycle and pulled on her helmet. The engine woke
with a growl and she
tried to shake off her somber mood. “Damn. I’m getting as morbid as Silia.”
She raised the kick stand and
started down the street.

	Silia looked up from her study of the team’s last performance rating and
frowned at her
comment. Did she really think she was morbid? A sound caught her attention
and she listened as Priss
began to hum. Time passed, but still she listened to her friend, knowing
that Priss would be beyond angry
and well into blind rage if she knew that the mike was always left open now.
 
	It had been an accident the first time. Silia had been surprised when
Priss’ voice came over the
small transceiver on her desk. She realized that she had forgotten to shut
it off, but as she reached for the
switch Priss had spoken again and she found herself listening, caught by
the sound of her voice. “God
Damn traffic! Why do people ride in those sardine cans, anyway? They ought
to climb out of their cages
and try the real world sometime, not their climate controlled, fully
filtered and fully insulated little
bubbles.” She had continued her tirade and Silia had listened as she
learned more about Priss. She had
continued to listen all night, as Priss took her on a journey of her life. 

	“Urrghh! Why did they close it down?! The last place in this crummy town
where I could get a
descent meal and they condemn it!”

	“Watch it, you asshole! Stupid boomer street cleaners!”
	
	“What the...? Hey you! Yeah you, big moron! Why don’t you try picking on
someone your own
size? Or at least your own species.” There was a couple of muted thumps and
then she had laughed.
“You’ll have to do better that, jerk!” Silia had then been amazed to hear
Priss speaking softly to a crying
woman. “Hey, it’s all right now. Here, let me see that. Looks like your
gonna need stitches, do you want
me to call an ambulance or can you hang on to me while I drive you?”

	The woman had rode to the hospital with Priss and Silia listened as she
drew her out and got her
to talk about the abusive bastard she’d just left. Priss had made her
promise to go to one of the security
shelters for battered women, then had left her at the hospital. 

	“Oh good, you’re still here. Let’s discuss your manners or lack there of.”
An odd crunching
sound and a strangled scream. “Now that I’ve gotten your attention, let’s
begin with today’s lesson.”
Another scream and Priss began to apply the old method of ‘beating some
sense’ into someone.

	As the night wore on Silia’s respect for her friend grew. Pimps were
leaned on for abusing their
girls. Several derelicts were sent off to shelters and chided for not
taking better care of themselves. Despite
herself  Silia laughed when Priss ran a drug dealer over with her bike. She
had then relieved him of his
cash, much to his howling complaint. There was only the sound of Priss’
bike for a while, then it was shut
off. A strange creaking sound and the echo of booted feet. Something made a
scraping noise and a voice
spoke. “Oh, hello again!” A brief pause and paper rustled. “Thank you and
God bless you!”
 
	“No sweat.”

	Priss was on the streets once more and Silia was there with her. “One
person at a time.” Silia
heard her whispered comment and remembered telling Priss when she’d hired
her that sometimes you
could help everyone, but helping one person could be as just as important.
Priss was patrolling her city,
trying to turn the tide of misery that was overlooked by frightened eyes.
 
	Silia shared her nights on the street now. A  protective feeling driving
her as well as a strange
desire to be near Priss, even in this unseen way. The irregular detours
Silia’s mind had started to take
lately were beginning to concern her.

	A squeal of tires and Priss’ sudden curse brought Silia back to the
present. The sound of brakes
screaming and the horrifyingly loud sound of crunching metal had Silia on
her feet. Metal scraping
asphalt has a rather peculiar sound and Silia had a theory that it was the
same sound a banshee makes
when it comes for the dying. Static burst over the transceiver and a
painful cry filled the room. Silia
grabbed the unit and switched on the mike. “Priss!” No response. “Priss!
Can you hear me?” A low moan
answered her, then Priss spoke.  “S-ilia?” She sounded groggy. 

	“Where are you? Priss?” There was no reply. “Answer me! That’s an order!”
Silia’s tone was
hard.

	“Uh....oh...ow. Damn Silia......you hav’ta yell?  Got a bit....of a
headache.” Priss raised her head
with difficulty and spotted the thing she had crashed into. “Shit! It’s
coming this way. Uh, Silia? I think I
might need some help here. There’s this boomer....” Silia interrupted her.

	“Where are you?” Priss told her and Silia rapidly calculated how long it
would take to reach her.
“Priss, I want you to lay very still and play dead, understand? If you
don’t give it a reason it may leave you
alone.” Priss’ tried to laugh, but it turned into a gasp. “I’m on my way.
Stay still.” Silia raced for her suit.

	Priss lay quietly and watched the boomer as it continued to smash it’s way
down the street toward
her. A car landed somewhere behind her and exploded, raining down pieces of
debris around her. As the
boomer continued its destruction, Priss began to assess her condition. Legs
were still moving, but a little
bruised. A cool wet feeling around her right knee let her know that she had
injured it again and would
need to replace her leather pants. Damn, those things were expensive. She
drew a deep breath; no broken
ribs. Her shoulder felt numb and her head was pounding, but she would live. 

	The boomer screamed as it tore a lamp post out of the ground and began to
smash the windows in
a department store.  

	Unless of course, the boomer decided to grind her into mush. The faint
sound of sirens in the
distance alerted her to the imminent arrival of the ADP. Oh joy. Priss only
hoped that they would check
the area for civilians before they opened fire.

	They did. Unfortunately they decided to evacuate the civilians, rather
than trying to draw the
boomer away. Two officers made their way to Priss and did a wonderful job
of calling attention to
themselves and her. She pointed this out to them as they tried to lift her.
“Now that it’s seen us, there’s no
point in me playing dead anymore. I think you guys should concentrate on
running like hell, because that
thing’s headed this way in a hurry.” With that, she shook them off and
began an unsteady lope away from
them and the boomer. They scrambled after her. The three of them cleared
the police line and the others
opened fire. 

	Priss watched them struggle to bring the boomer down and tried not to
laugh out loud at their
ineptness. It really wasn’t their fault that the unit didn’t have the
budget for heavy weapons, but that
didn’t make it all right either. A tap on her shoulder had her turning to
find Nene grinning up at her. 

	“Fancy meeting you in a place like this! Your ride is waiting for you
around the corner.” 

	Priss nodded and slipped past the barricades. As promised a Silky Doll
delivery truck was
waiting in an alley. Priss climbed in back and found Silia waiting for her.

	“Injuries?” She didn’t look up from her preparation of Priss’ suit. She
had donned her own suit
and needed only her helmet. Priss began to pull her ruined clothes off as
she answered.

	“Minor. A couple of scratches and a few bruises.” She fingered the hole in
her pants. “One
casualty though. Any chance of claiming this as on duty damage?” Silia’s
reply was to toss Priss’ inner
soft suit at her.

	“Didn’t think so.” 

	Minutes later she was walking calmly past the police barricades again. She
towered over the
officers and the impulse cannon that the motoslave carried drew some rather
panicked exclamations. Over
ten feet in length , it weighed close to three hundred pounds and was a
self-targeting thing of beauty. The
police gave her a wide berth as she went past, causing Priss to smile smugly. 

	Silia watched Priss from her position on the roof and sighed at her
antics. She really needed to
exercise a little more discretion.

	Five minutes later the boomer had been  reduced to a molten state. Priss
stared at the smoldering
metal with a sense of satisfaction. Silia had to spoil it, of course. She
landed beside Priss and pointed to
the mass of twisted and melting metal just behind the boomer. “Isn’t that
your bike?” Priss’ cry of anguish
turned into a frustrated roar and she fired at the boomer again. The street
underneath it finally
surrendered and the boomer’s remains fell into the sewers below.

	The Knight Sabers departed and left the police to clean up once again.


         + + + + + 
	
	Priss was tired of waiting. She slouched in her chair and stared blankly
at the ceiling, wondering
if Silia was ever coming back. The door opened and Silia came in, “It’s
ready. But promise me that you’ll
take better care of this one? It’s rather expensive to customize you a new
motorcycle every time you
destroy the old one.” Priss followed her to the garage eagerly, but
protested all the way. “I don’t do it on
purpose, you know! I wasn’t exactly out trying to find a place to wreck it.
The boomer found me!”

	Priss stopped speaking as they entered the garage. Her eyes grew wide.

	It did not move, but still seemed to be in motion. The sleek lines curved
and stretched like a huge
metal cat waiting for its moment to spring to life. Light danced across
it’s polished surface, seeming to
vibrate with life and Priss felt it whispering to her. Urging her to climb
on and chase the wind. Black steel
and silver chrome twisted around the frame in twin rivers of muscle. Priss
let her fingers slide over a
gleaming flank and knew that she would catch it this time.

	She lifted awed eyes to Silia’s. “Thank you.” Her tone was reverent, but
her mind was in turmoil.
Priss couldn’t believe what she was feeling. A long forgotten emotion was
spreading through her that she
hadn’t felt since... She slammed the door on the thought. It couldn’t be.

	 Silia felt an odd rush of pleasure at her reaction. Mackie grinned and
started running down a list
of the improvements he’d made. Priss listened intently, asking questions
and exclaiming over his genius.
Mackie blushed and turned to Silia. “Sis, you explain the rest. It’s your
design, after all.”

	Silia frowned at him slightly, then approached the bike. She touched a
small depression on one
side of the control panel and a crack appeared at the back of the panel,
near the windscreen.  She flipped
open the small hatch and pulled out what appeared to be a scaled down
version of an impact cannon.
“This should help in the event of another boomer emergency. It’s not as
powerful as the full sized version,
so you’ll need to be more accurate with your shots. Also because of the
reduction it can only fire three
times before the energy cells are drained.” Priss handled the weapon
carefully, testing the weight and feel.

	“It’s perfect.” Once again Silia felt a little tingle at her words and
tried to ignore it. Priss
replaced the gun back into its holder and secured the hatch. She froze as
Silia’s arm reached around her to
the control panel and she felt her pressed along her length for a brief
moment.  Silia hit a switch and
pulled back, amazed to find herself blushing slightly. The smell of Priss’
hair caught her attention and she
forced herself to focus on the explanation. What was wrong with her?

	“This switch opens gun ports on the front of the bike, here, above the
head lamp.  Like your
armored bike, they fire amour-piercing  rounds. Ten rounds per chamber
only.” She raised the seat and
showed Priss the pistol and extra rounds stored there. “More useful against
humans than boomers, I’m
afraid, but you can never be too careful.” She said nothing about the small
tracking device that she had
installed. Even Mackie knew nothing about it. Call it overprotective, but
Silia never wanted to go through
another night like that again. She was already designing tracers for Nene
and Linna, but Priss had been
her primary concern. Now she realized why.

	She watched Priss fuss over the motorcycle for a few minutes, knowing that
she was dying to try
it out and then finally suggested, “Priss. I think it would be a good idea
if you test drove the bike, see if
anything is out of balance or needs adjusting.” 

	Priss shot her a grateful look and eagerly accepted the new black helmet
Silia handed her. <Man,
I don’t think I could have stood it another minute!> Mackie opened the
garage doors and stood back. The
engine fired to life with a low roar and she revved the motor a little.
Snarling in impatience, the bike
surged forward at a ground consuming pace when she released the brake.
Priss hit the highway and
claimed it as her own.

	Silia watched her young friend disappear and felt a twinge of something
that was almost like
envy. A part of her long buried urged her to join Priss and she shook her
head, trying to shake it off. Silia
returned to her office and started work on the tracer designs, but the
voice had woken and it was not going
away. 

	<You could have gone with her.>

	Silia frowned at its persistency and found herself replying. (No. I have
work to do.)

	<Oh yeah, like it’s really going to take you all afternoon to build those
components.>

	(I have no desire to spend my day riding aimlessly.)

	<Liar.>

	(Enough!)

	<Lie to yourself Silia, but you can’t lie to me. I know you. I know what
you want.> It continued
softly. <Who you want.>
	
	Silia slapped her desk and said out loud, “Stop it!”

	Mackie spoke, startling her. “What’s wrong?” He stood in the doorway and
searched the room for
the target of her anger. He looked back at her with concern.

	“Nothing’s wrong, Mackie. Have you finished running the stress test on the
new armor
compound?”  They discussed the performance of the new metal and she tried
to ignore that tiny voice.

	<Liar.>



        + + + + +


	Nene sat amid several intimidating stacks of forms and reports. She sighed
as she placed a
completed report into the out tray to join the three others. “Four down,
five hundred and thirty-two to go.”
She groaned loudly and let her head hit the desk in front of her with a
thump. Why did everyone have to
get sick this week? At the same time? 

	The wave of flu that had run through the AD police headquarters and
several other precincts had
been particularly virulent. More than half of the officers were out and
that meant that everyone who was
able was pulling double duty.  Needless to say, criminals on the streets
were having a field day. Nene
hadn’t been near her beloved computers all week and she was greatly
concerned about the side effects of
withdrawal.
 
	A loud sneeze startled her out of her funk and she turned to see Lt. Leon
McNichol coming
toward her. She held out both hands and yelled, “Stop right there,
Lieutenant! You are sick. And I don’t
want to be, so stay as far away from me as possible, if you please.” 

	Leon stared at her fuzzily and stepped back a few steps. “I just wanted to
tell you that I’ve been
sent home. Damn doctors say that I’m too sick to work! Show’s you what they
know. “ Nene watched him
weave unsteadily and silently agreed that indeed, the doctors did know a
great deal. “Anyway, I want you
to let me know if something breaks on the case I’m working on, Okay?” 

	Nene had no idea of what case he was talking about, but then she strongly
suspected that neither
did he. She smiled and nodded and watched him stumble out the door.



         + + + + +

	Priss slowed the cat to a halt in front of a fast food place and removed
her helmet. The feline
grace of the machine had struck her deeply and the motorcycle would be
‘Cat’ forever. She sat there for a
few moments, reluctant to dismount. The warm feel of the engine beneath her
was comforting somehow.
With a small sigh she climbed off the bike and went to get some lunch. 

	She returned half an hour later to find several young teenagers crowded
around it. They were
studying the cat with the same expression of wonder that she had. Since
they were observing the rules (i.e.
no touching ) she only growled at them a little. They jumped away from the
bike like they’d been shot at
and watched in surprise as she strode swiftly toward the bike. Priss
climbed on and replaced her helmet,
noticing for the first time a small word that had been inlaid with silver
at the back: Priss. The engine
caught and she nodded at the boys, resisting the urge to peel out as she left.

	The road fell away on either side of her in a dizzying rush, but Priss
didn’t notice. The
monogram was a thoughtful thing to have done, just like Mackie. But it
wasn’t him. Somehow she knew
that Silia had added this special touch. Priss wondered at her motive, but
could find none other than
wanting to do it. The idea of  Silia doing something so, well, frivolous
was rather disconcerting. She paid
no attention whatsoever to the warm tendril that curled through her. After
Sylvie had died, Priss had
consciously and deliberately, closed down that side of herself. She firmly
slammed the door again against
a little voice that was trying to catch her attention. She was getting good
at that.



         + + + + +


	Silia was not. The voice had continued to harass her and she was becoming
very annoyed. She
finally retreated to the training room to work out. She changed into her
soft suit and programmed the
computer for level eight. As the program began, she threw herself into the
fight with more enthusiasm
than normal. The odd shaped blob of light that was hovering in front of her
was a tough opponent. It
‘grew’ arms at random, trying to slip through her defenses and strike the
vulnerable points on her body.
She was managing to hold her own when she heard a familiar sound.

	<Isn’t this the level Priss just mastered?>

	She blocked a two punch combo and kicked at the lower portion of the body.
It blocked easily and
she moved away slightly. (Don’t start. I have to stay focused.)

	<She makes it look so easy, doesn’t she?>

	A buzzer went off when a blow slipped through and connected with her side.
The program
continued, but she had lost ground. (Why can’t I make you go away?)

	<Because you know that I’m right.>

	(Hardly.)

	<I’ll stop when you admit what’s happening to you. Until then I’ll just
keep nagging you. Rather
like a sore tooth, don’t you think?>

	The buzzer sounded again, louder this time, and Silia looked down to see
the end of one of the
arms pointed at her heart.



         + + + + +            


	Linna browsed through the displays at Silky Doll waiting patiently for
Nene to arrive. She never
really expected anyone but Silia to be on time so she was never
disappointed. She studied a red silk teddy
and considered adding it to the selections already draped over her arm. It
really wasn’t fair that Silia
owned a lingerie shop. It provided Linna with a ready supply of her
favorite addiction and rapidly
consumed her hard earned funds. She sighed and took her purchases, along
with the teddy, up to the
counter. Nene arrived as she finished the transaction and they rode
together up to Silia’s office. 
	
	The building looked like any other in the city, but held many secrets. The
top four floors were
restricted, comprising Silia and Mackie’s living quarters, a large computer
lab, the training room and the
hanger for the Knight Sabers plane. There was even a separate garage exit.
Incredible security measure
had been taken and Linna sometimes suspected that Silia had even installed
booby traps for the unwary. 

	The private elevator delivered them to Silia’s office and they were
surprised to find that they
were alone.

	Linna looked around in confusion. “Where’s Silia?”

	Nene dropped onto the couch and sighed, “Who knows? Though I have to
admit, it is odd that
she’s not here yet. Maybe we were supposed to meet her upstairs?”
	
	They headed up to the next floor, assuming she was in the lab. As they
went past the training
room they heard the sounds of someone working out. Silia was covered with
sweat and looked like she
was going to dismantle the training holo with her bare hands. They watched
in amazement, as she struck
out in an exhausting flurry of punches and kicks. She stopped only when the
a bell chimed, signaling her
successful completion of the level. A computerized voice spoke, “Level
eight completed. Beginning level
nine.” Silia caught sight of Linna and Nene and halted the program.

	She picked up a towel and walked over to them, wiping at the sweat that
ran down her face. “I’m
sorry. I was distracted. I’ll join you in a minute, all right?” 

	They nodded dumbly and watched her leave. As the door closed behind her
Nene let her breath
escape in a sudden rush. “Whoooo! Did you see that? I’ve never seen her
fight like that. And level eight?
Only Priss has been able to finish that level and only when she got so
angry that time.”

	Linna, who had considered her own mastery of level seven to be something
of an
accomplishment, sighed when she realized that she would increase her
training even more to be able to
compete with Silia. “Let’s go. I could use a drink.”

	Nene followed her back down to the office, chattering all the way. Her own
completion of level
six had been, in her opinion, the best she could ever hope to achieve and
she was happy with that.


	They had just settled down with a couple of sodas when Priss came in. She
spied her friends and
smiled widely at them. “Hey guys! How’s it goin’?” Her jovial manner
immediately put them on guard.
Silia entered the office and seated herself behind her desk, her hair still
damp from a quick shower. Priss
gave her a thumbs up signal and Nene groaned.
 
	“Oh no! What is it this time, Silia?” Silia stared at her in confusion. 

	Linna elaborated. “Anytime Priss acts this happy, something is going on.
Are we planning a raid
on the Genom corporate office? Or are we going to run another simulated
combat session?” 

	Nene moaned loudly at that. The last time they had done that, she had
wound up being Silia’s
stalking horse and had been shot to ‘death’ with paint balls. Silia had
then caught Priss and Linna off
guard with a smoke grenade. “I want to be partners with Priss this time!”

	Silia laughed. “No, we’re not doing another session nor are we raiding
Genom. I think Priss is
just happy with her new motorcycle. Priss?”

	“Happy is an understatement. Let’s get this meeting over with so I can get
back out on the road.”
She grinned and sat in the chair next to Silia’s desk. “Anything special,
or just same old, same old?”

	The meeting was more or less standard and didn’t last long. Silia handed
Linna and Nene their
“radios”. The small pendants were made of gold, each one a different
design. She showed them how to
activate the microphone and explained that the pendent would vibrate
slightly when activated.

	 Silia tossed Priss a small box. “I thought you might like this better.”
She watched Priss remove
the large ring and study the design that had been engraved on its face. A
strange expression flickered over
Priss’ face and Silia wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake.

	 Priss felt a tug somewhere in the region of her chest and knew that was
impossible. You can’t
feel something that doesn’t exist anymore. She had cut out most of her
heart by killing Sylvie and Anri
had sliced out the rest. But something was trying to come to life again and
she didn’t want to think about
what that meant. She slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand and
looked up at Silia. “Thanks.”
Priss tried to smile, but it fell short as she was trying to cope with the
wild emotions she ‘wasn’t’ feeling
clogging her throat. Silia forced herself to nod brusquely and returned to
her desk. Nene ended the silence
that followed by complaining loudly that she was hungry and were they going
to get something to eat or
were they trying to starve her to death?

	Silia ended the meeting and declined the offer of dinner. She spent the
rest of the evening trying
to shake off a strong sense of disappointment.

	                                                                        
	Priss accelerated down the highway and felt the weight of the ring on her
hand. Despite herself,
she was pleased with it. She just refused to look too closely at why.



         + + + + +    


	Three days later, the control circuits of an experimental military boomer
failed and it began to
run an emergency sub-routine program. The program was designed so that once
the boomer had been
dropped behind enemy lines it would kill anyone its scanners detected.
Unfortunately, due to the
destruction of several key logic circuits, it now believed that it was
behind enemy lines.

	A young technician was the first to discover this malfunction, but he
didn’t live long enough to
tell anyone. Or to scream. The boomer began to work its way through the
facility, slaughtering
indiscriminately. It was nothing personal, just doing its job. When it’s
scanners no longer detected any life
signs, it initiated another program protocol. It destroyed the building.


	AD police units, which were still greatly understaffed, rolled onto the
scene in time to watch the
building explode. The fire ball rose into the night sky over five hundred
feet and turned darkness into day
for a twenty block radius. As the flames died down slightly, a shadow moved
from within the heart of the
blaze. 

	Leon saw the boomer emerge and began to swear.  “Radio for reinforcements.
Tell’em we’ve got
a military boomer on the loose and would they please send some military
forces to help out.” He ran to the
weapons truck and climbed into a bulky, heavily armored suit . He chose one
of the five impulse cannons
that had just been issued to the unit and join four other armored officers.
Then they headed out to meet the
devil for dinner.

	It was a testament to the quality of workmanship, that the boomer was
still functioning. It was
glowing, almost white hot and the asphalt melted slightly under its feet as
it advanced on the new life
signs. Scanners located weapons and rated their effectiveness, deciding
which ones should be taken out
first. Nothing appeared to be dangerous to its systems until another life
sign moved into range. The
weapon it carried was a possible threat, if it targeted any week spots in
the boomers armor. The rating of
dangerous moved the human from KILL  to KILL IMMEDIATELY.
	
	Leon braced the gun against his metallic hip and targeted the glowing
boomer as it advance on
him. The blast from the cannon almost knocked him down, but he managed to
stay on his feet. The
boomer had been knocked backwards about ten yards, but was getting up
again. There didn’t seem to be
any damage. He cursed and prepared to fire again. Four other officers
joined him and they opened fire.
The boomer was driven back into the fire by the combined blasts. Two
officers had been knocked down,
but were all right. They were cheering, but Leon just kept staring at the
fire wall. 

	It staggered out and he saw that it had been damaged this time, but it was
still moving. He yelled
at the men to resume firing positions. As they prepared to attack again the
boomer launch two small
missiles. Leon saw them coming and screamed out a warning. They scattered,
but the missiles were more
powerful than their size would indicate. Leon felt the blast catch him and
the last thing he saw was the
white lettering on the side of the ADP van as he crashed into it. 

	

         + + + + +


	Silia briefed the Knight Sabers as they flew to the scene of the battle.
“Apparently five impulse
cannons only succeeded in scuffing the armor a little.”

	“Nothing a wash and wax wouldn’t cure, huh?” Priss checked the seals on
her suit and picked up
her helmet. She tossed her cigarette away and secured her helmet.

	“Right. It’s obviously well protected against energy attacks, but
projectile weapons might pierce
it. We’re going to try the magnetic grenades. It’s risky, but it may be our
only choice.” Silia looked at
Priss and Linna. “Linna. Priss. You’ll place the grenades. Nene,
concentrate on finding a weak spot that
we can hit and try to keep the police out of the way. We’re coming in.
Let’s get ready.” She reached for
her own helmet as Priss spoke.

	“And where will you be while Linna and I are trying to play
‘pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey’ with
that thing?” Her tone wasn’t snide, wasn’t mocking. She knew before Silia
answered, where she would be.
And she didn’t like it.

	“I’m sure I’ll find some way to get it’s attention.” The helmet went on.
She picked up her
impulse rifle and checked it. 

	The aircraft landed behind police lines and the cargo doors opened. Silia
stepped out and called
back, “Knight Sabers......It’s show time!”



	Priss swore and darted out of the way just as the boomer opened fire. The
armored rounds tore up
the pavement as the spray followed her. She fired a rail bolt into the
boomer’s arm and the gun stopped.
Silia ran right up to the boomer and fired into it’s face, point blank. It
howled and charged after her.
Linna shot past and slapped a grenade onto it’s back. It exploded and
opened a large hole in the armor.
However, the blast gave it the extra boost it need to catch Silia. The
boomer caught her around the neck,
jerking her to a halt. 

	Priss picked up Silia’s gun from where she’d dropped it and aimed for the
boomer’s back. “Silia!
Brace yourself!” The shot was true and the boomer dropped Silia as it tried
to deal with the destruction of
it’s chest. It staggered wildly and Priss raced to Silia, who wasn’t
moving. “Nene! Get over here and give
me a ha-” She was cut off as the boomer grabbed her from behind and lifting
her into the air. She saw
Nene pull Silia away and heard Linna  attacking it from the right. 

	The boomer dropped her suddenly and she reached for a grenade. Pushing
herself up with her
right hand she shoved the grenade at the boomer with her left. The boomer
caught her hand in his and she
felt the magnetic trigger activate. She yanked hard, but she and the boomer
were locked together. Linna 
was screaming at her to move when the grenade exploded.
	
	Linna and Nene watched in horror as the explosion destroyed the boomer and
sent Priss flying
towards them. She landed in a crumpled heap a few feet away and they were
with her instantly. Linna was
calling her over the radio, but there was no reply. She rolled Priss over
and stifled a scream. Nene gasped
and started to cry.

	“She’s dead,” Linna’s whispered words brought Silia.
	
	“No.” Silia shoved Linna out of the way and knelt beside Priss. “No. She
isn’t dead.” She can’t
be dead. 

	Nene tearfully called Mackie for an emergency pickup and then began to pray.

	The left side of her hard suit was a twisted mass of metal and burned
flesh. Linna stared numbly
at Priss and realized that her arm was gone. She looked back at the rubble
that was left from the boomer
and couldn’t see it. It had been burned away.

	

	Leon watched the Knight Sabers kneel around their fallen member and
pressed a bandage to his
head. He looked up as the unidentified aircraft landed next to them and
wondered if she was dead. Two of
the Sabers ran on board and brought out a stretcher. They carefully lifted
her onto it and hurried back on
board.  A military truck pulled up as they departed. Soldiers poured out
and began to taken over. He
looked at the destruction around him and climbed into the back of an
ambulance. Let the solider boys
clean up this time. He had the flu.



         + + + + +


	Nene sat in the waiting room chair and drew lines with her finger nail in
the rim of her cup.
Linna got up and walked to the door and looked out. She then turned and
walked over to the window and
watched the night for a few minutes. She turned again and moved in front of
a large seascape hung on
wall. After staring at painting she returned to her seat. She had done this
every thirty minutes for the last
four hours and Nene decided that if she got up again she was going to
tackle her. If they were still here.
She pushed her nail into the edge of the empty cup and watched the side
crumble.

	Silia had disappeared into the bowels of the hospital the moment they’d
arrived. She had came
back briefly to let them know that a specialist was being flown in and
Priss would go into surgery when he
arrived. She had not come back again and Nene was surprised to find herself
angry at Silia. “She should
let us know something. Anything! Not leave sitting here for goodness sake!”

	Linna frowned at her outburst and got up to pace again. Nene jumped to her
feet and stomped
toward her, fists clenched.

	“She’s going to make it.”

	Nene halted and spun to find Silia standing in the doorway. “Silia?”

	She pushed a hand through her hair in a betraying gesture and ignored the
fine tremors. She had
come so close to losing her. “She came through the surgery well. There was
no heavy internal injuries.
The cosmetic surgery to repair her breast and side is scheduled for tomorrow.”

	Linna felt herself cringe at the thought of it happening to her and
mentally admonished herself.
Priss was lucky to be alive, that was all that mattered.

	Nene began to cry and Linna went to her, putting her arms around her and
guiding her to a chair.
Silia sat down across from them and wondered how to explain that the
hardest battle was yet to be fought 
She remembered the sight of Priss lying there so pale as they had operated
and felt a burning behind her
eyes. Since she was something of an expert in robotics and cybernetics, she
had insisted on overseeing the
installation of the new joint. She had made a decision and accepted the
possible consequences.

	“Her arm was lost, of course. The doctor had to replace her shoulder and
part of her collar bone
with cybernetics. The synthetic arm is being built and will be ready by the
end of this week.” Silia was
already planning the limb in her mind, considering and discarding several
alloys and she made a mental
note to add several ‘extras’ to Priss’ new arm. Silia laughed at herself as
she realized that she was
assuming that Priss would let her install it. Priss hated cybernetics with
the same fierceness she reserved
for boomers. “We have a problem though. Priss is going to need us a great
deal in the next few weeks.”

	Linna looked up and nodded. “When she wakes up and finds out what
happened, she’ll go nuts.”
She stared at Silia, wondering how she could seem so unaffected by all of
this.  “She isn’t going to accept
a cyber arm right off the bat. Priss will fight it every step of the way.”

	“I’ve arranged for her to be kept sedated until the reconstructive surgery
is over.” Silia continued
to speak calmly, knowing that she was riding the edge of her control. “I
think it would be best if we all
went home and got some rest.” Linna scowled at her, but she reminded her
that Priss wouldn’t awaken for
several days. “There’s no point in you wearing yourselves out now. We’ll
need all of the strength we can
get for the days ahead.” She got up and quickly left the waiting room,
feeling the tight grip of her control
slipping away.

	Linna shook her head and tried not to hate Silia for being Silia. Nene
touched her arm and Linna
turned to face her. Her eyes were still filled with unshed tears and as she
looked up at her one fell. Linna
brushed it away and wrapped her arms around Nene, holding her tightly. Nene
sighed and Linna felt her
heart lurch unsteadily when she asked in a small voice, “Can I stay with
you tonight?”



         + + + + + 

	Silia ran the polishing cloth over the metal, wiping away the dull film of
wax and leaving only
the gleaming chrome. She had brought Priss’ bike up from the garage and
into her lab. She continued to
polish the bike in firm rhythmic motions and ignored the stray tears that
would occasionally run down her
face.

	<So you’ve finally admitted it, have you?>

	(Yes.)

	<So what are you going to do about it?>

	(The best that I can.)

	


	Linna switched off the light and slid under the covers. Nene waited for
her to get settled and then
curled up beside her, resting her head on Linna’s shoulder. She slipped her
arm around Nene’s waist and
pulled her close. The soft brush of her lips against hers was the last
thing Nene remembered.



	The clock on the wall of Silia’s lab read six a.m. Not that Silia was
looking. She was instead,
tapping into several research facilities for information and not all of it
was done legally. She was
gathering data on cybernetic implants and weaponry. On the screen next to
her was a digital recreation of
an arm. 

	Silia made a small sound of discovery and downloaded several files to her
computer. Never mind
that they were top secret military documents. She was going to create the
ultimate limb for Priss. She
extracted the required data from the files and incorporated it into the
digital display. The arm rotated and
split in half to reveal a retractable energy saber. The blade would slip
out above the wrist, forcing the hand
into a locked position out of the way. The power cells would be a problem,
but she thought she knew a
way to get around them. 

	Part of her was uncertain about the design she was building, but the rest
of her knew that Priss
would never accept a cyber ‘arm’.  Maybe she could accept a cyber weapon.
Maybe she would be able to
forgive her. Eventually.

	She typed instructions into the display and watched as the arm shifted
again.  A series of black
swirls worked their way up the arm like flames. They ended in a ring of
fire on the upper arm, just below
the curve of the shoulder. Silia called up another file and imported the
image into the circle. She then
changed the design of the knuckle joints across the back of the hand. By
increasing the size slightly, she
could conceal four impact caps and give Priss a truly incredible left hook.
The studs had a slightly punk
appearance and Silia nodded to herself as she moved on to study the release
catch for the one inch long,
retractable titanium claws.