I'll have this archived on my page (http://templar.anifics.com/) as soon
as I can.

Disclaimer: The characters in this work of fan fiction belong to their
original creators, and are not used for the purpose of monetary gain.

Sabers Destiny

Part 2: The Face in the Mirror

Once she determined that no one was tracking them, Sylia took Madigan to
a small garage on the outskirts of the Timex city district.  Waiting for
them were her younger brother and Dr. Raven.

Sylia led the way into a secured basement under the garage.  Three
different checkpoints requiring different methods of identification,
first a verbal password, then fingerprint scan, then a retinal scan. 
Separating each doorway was a space large enough for four or five
people, and the previous door closed before the next recognition method
was performed.

Waiting for them was an empty hallway, with two doors on each side,
about five meters apart.  Sylia entered the first one on the right,
motioning for Madigan to follow.

Inside was some kind of testing facility.  Different measuring devices
were scattered about, with a bank of computer consoles below a wide
window.  Through the window was a complete holographic combat simulator.

Sylia pointed to a door set between two pieces of equipment.  "Through
there you'll find a selection of testing suits, pick the one that fits
best."

"What's all this for?"

"In order to make sure the hardsuit functions correctly, we need to take
several measurements, including arm and leg strength, reflexes, and
perception."

"You're actually going to give me one of those things?  Just like that?"

"Your skepticism is all to obvious.  Yes, I am giving you one, since I
did not make that offer so you could just sit here and sulk.  However,
until I am sure that you will not betray us in some way, both your suit
and motoroid will have a self destruct mechanism."

Madigan shrugged.  "Understandable."  She paused before entering the
changing room.  "What's a motoroid?"

Sylia just smiled, and waited for Madigan to change.  Once that was
completed, they used the scale to take exact measurements, which were
then sent to Mackie and Raven in the next room.  While those two worked
on the hardsuit's basic frame, Sylia took Madigan through the rest of
the testing cycle.  The newest recruit surprised Sylia.  Arm and leg
strength was average, but her reflexes were high and her perception
levels were higher than either Linna or Nene.  Plus she was able to work
her way up past level six in the simulator.

Leaving the other woman to clean up and change, Sylia checked on Mackie
and Raven's progress.  The two techs were in the final stages of
assembling the inner frame.  The outer plating, weapons, and thruster
system would take a few more days, as would programming the software. 
For now, though, they could see if it would fit.

"They finished that rather quickly," Madigan's voice came from the
doorway.

"It not so much a matter of building the suit, as it is modifying an
existing suit to meet new specification."

"You never anwered my question from before," the other woman said,
moving further into the room.  "What's a motoroid?"

"Those," Sylia said, pointing.  Along the wall were four motorcycles. 
One was larger than the others, with a more advanced look.  The other
three were identical except in color.  One matched the larger in its
shade of blue, another was a dark green, while the last was (Madigan
suppressed a comment on this) pink.

"I'm supposed to ride one of them?"

"Yes.  I'll be taking the Typhoon II, so I'll be giving you my old
Hurricane."

"But I've never ridden a motorcycle in my life!"

Everyone froze.  The hardsuit frame, which Mackie had been opening for a
movement test, crashed to the ground.

"Never?" Mackie asked.

"No, never."

Sylia paused for a moment, then turned to Raven. "I doubt we'll have
time make her proficient.  Doctor, do you have any ideas?"

The old man though for a moment.  "When I was designing the Typhoon II,
I did have an idea for a motoroid that was more like a car than a
motorcycle.  Didn't get past the design stage, though."

"Oh? Do you still have the schematics?"

"Yes." Raven went to a terminal on the wall and brought a set of
blueprints on the screen.  Sylia studied them for a moment.

"How long would it take you to build this?"

"If I build this instead of the second Typhoon II, since the two of them
use similar parts and software, I could have it for you in about a month
or two, provided I have help from both you and Mackie."

*******

The next week was uneventful.  Since Madigan needed to stay out of sight
(Genom assassins and such), she confined herself to the garage, helping
Mackie assemble the new suit and motoroid.  The motoroid had taken
priority for Dr. Raven, so that left Mackie to assemble the suit in his
spare time.

"I didn't know you were very mechanical," Mackie initially commented.

"I'm not," came the reply. "But until an alternate identity for me is
set up, I'm pretty much stuck here.  So I might as well learn."

Mackie nodded, then turned back to the developing hardsuit.  "Then hand
me the power relays.  They're the black cylinders third from the left." 
Madigan studied the components laid out on the table, and handed the
indicated parts to Mackie.

"What about weapons systems?" she asked a while later.

Mackie finished an adjustment to the arm seals before answering. "Sis
wants to see how well you handle the base suit first.  If you can handle
it, we might give you Priss' weapon arm, which has a beam cannon and a
couple of rail guns." There was the slightest crack in his voice at
mentioning the fallen team member.

"What was she like?"

Mackie hesitated before answering.  "She was a hurricane, headstrong,
stubborn, and deadly.  It was a safe bet that any hardware she got her
hands on would be toast before too long.  Can you hand me the booster
pack?"

Madigan handed him the part.  "And she got away with it?"

Mackie smiled as he attached the thrusters to the hardsuit's back.
"Well, one of the rules for the Knight Sabers is that any avoidable
equipment loss comes out of the members pay.  That's why she lived in a
trailer, she went broke paying for all the equipment she destroyed." 
That thought gave him a chuckle, and even caused Madigan to crack a
smile.  "Hand me the jumpjets, would you?"
 
Madigan did so.  "Is it just me, or is this unit a little lacking in
mobility?"

"What makes you say that?" Mackie said as he installed one of the
smaller thrusters in the suit's heel. (1)

"The green and pink suits have extra thrust nozzles and stabilizers, and
your sister's has a full flight system."

Mackie shifted around to install the other thruster.  "Well, that's
because this suit is made for firepower rather than mobility.  The armor
is heavy enough to make a full flight system too power-intensive.  With
the system we're putting in here, you can manage some pretty impressive
jumps, plus what Priss called 'falling with style.'"

*******

Sylia smiled as she shut off the surveillance monitor.  Madigan was
already suspicious about traps without knowing that Sylia had an eye on
her almost constantly.  The new team member was turning out well, as
long as it wasn't a trick.  Though if it were true, Kathryn Madigan
would have to be one of the world greatest actors.

Linna and Nene had been avoiding the garage since Madigan began staying
there.  Sylia didn't think that was very unusual, but they had been
avoiding the shop as well.  She would have to call them in for a meeting
before a new contract came in, which could be any day. Thing had been
quiet since Largo's grab for power, but Sylia had no illusions about
that lasting.

Of course, she had to get the new team member acquainted with the rest
before they could perform any job.  Sylia had sent out the proper
contact messages while watching Mackie tell Madigan about Priss.  Her
brother's expression and tone told Sylia much about his emotions, and
the maturity he'd gained since the incident.

*If only it didn't have to come this way.*

On the screen, it looked like the two workers had about another half
hour of work on the suit.  Sylia gathered up the items that she had been
working on and headed for the door.  She had one of her part-time
workers watching the shop, and the alarm systems were foolproof.

Sylia hoped that Nene and Linna made it to the lab.  She preferred to
get the inevitable personality conflicts out of the way before they
entered combat.

*******

Mackie was placing the communications equipment in the new helmet when
Sylia arrived in the lab.

"I thought you'd get here about now," he commented.

"Oh?  Am I getting predictable?"

"Only in your tendency to show up at the right time.  We're ready for
the test.  She's changing into a softsuit now."

Madigan entered the room, looking uncomfortable in the in her new
attire.

"Something wrong?" Sylia asked.

"I hate pink."

Both of the Stingray siblings chuckled at that comment.  "Whatever you
do," Mackie advised, "don't tell Nene that."

"Tell me what?" Nene said as she and Linna entered the lab.

Sylia replied before Madigan could get out more than a snarl.  "Our new
recruit does not appreciate your taste in color."

"Aww, but pink is so cute," Nene's voice was causing Madigan to suffer
from sucrose overload.

"Besides," Linna commented, "it's not like people will see you in that,
Katie."

"Can we just get this over with?  And don't call me Katie.  I hate that
name."

"Of course," Sylia pointed Madigan to the hardsuit while taking her
place at a computer station.  "Linna, could you show her how seal the
suit?"

Linna grumbled, but instructed the other woman in getting into the
hardsuit.

Once ready, Madigan went through one of the forms from her old kempo
classes.  "By the way," Sylia, "the suit already has its failsafe system
installed."

Madigan paused for a moment, then continued her exercise.  Sylia's
screen's showed that there were no problems with the suit joints being
too tight, or the wrong length.  Either could cause problems, from some
discomfort to major injury.  There were also no complaints about
visibility, so Sylia activated the HUD.

A slight falter in the form's rhythm was the only indication of
surprise.  Madigan stopped her movements, and held her right arm out
away from her body.  She moved her arm as though sighting a weapon on
her forearm, shifting it from between imaginary targets.  Sylia
monitored her reactions, impressed with the other woman's adaptability. 
She sent a command to be printed on the HUD, including instructions for
getting out of the suit.

She got out of the hardsuit, but was not allowed to change out of the
softsuit before Sylia dragged the lot of them into her office space
opposite the training room.

Once everyone was settled, Sylia tossed Madigan a large envelope. 
Inside were several official documents.

"That is your new identity.  It also contains details of your new job."

"Working at your store?" Madigan laughed.

"No, that would attract too much attention.  You'll also have to change
your hair style."

"I can tell," Madigan replied.  "Ms. Morgan Koga has short black hair."

"That's an odd name," Linna commented.

"It is, what made you pick it?"

"It's the only one that fit the criteria," Sylia explained, "Forging
birth records would cause too many problems.  So, I search the records
for the deceased people with the same birthday as you.  If possible, I
also checked to see if appearances were similar.  Also, there were two
choices for this project, children that had died at birth or shortly
after, or people killed in the '26 quake."

"Born in Ulster," Madigan read, "attended the University of Madrid. 
Worked for Megatech's Tokyo branch for three years, getting hired
shortly after the reorganization caused by the Puppetmaster incident
four years ago.  Recently found a job with a private securities firm."

"The owner of the securities firm," Sylia explained, "is Alexander
Borodin.  He is also one of my suppliers of the materials I use in the
hardsuit and motoroid armaments."

Linna snorted.  "So she's a Japanese woman born and raised in Ireland,
went to school in Spain, and is now working for a Russian smuggler?"

"That about sums it up," Madigan commented.

"And you still can't ride a motorcycle," Nene laughed.

"At least I'm able to do more in a fight than just stand around."

"Really?" Linna asked.  "Didn't look that way when Sylia and I were
fighting the Doberman."

Sylia cut off further jabs.  They couldn't spend their time doing that,
no matter how good-natured they were.  "Actually, Alex is American, his
father was Russian.  Mackie, how are the new mecha coming?"

"Hardsuit is done, just need to install the weapons and do the paint. 
Pops says that the new motoroid take a while longer."  The meeting was
breaking up when he turned to Madigan.  "You never told me what color
scheme you want for your hardsuit."

"I'll tell you later."

*******

*When you don't recognize the face in the mirror, it's time to see when
you stopped being yourself.*

Madigan couldn't remember where she heard that, but it seemed
appropriate at the moment.  Her hair was shorter now, barely reaching
her shoulders, and a black so deep it created an eye-wrenching contrast
with her skin tone.  Of course, that was part of Sylia's plan, since the
contrast would attract attention away from her features.

In the past, she never had to hide.  She entered Genom as an information
systems analyst, and quickly rose to the head of informational
security.  That was her official title, anyway.  In reality, she
arranged the infiltration, influence, and even takeover over many
countries.  All under the direction of Quincy, all to further Genom's
goal of ruling the world.

Yet because of one madman, the towers in other regions of the world, as
well as several facilities within Mega-Tokyo, had been destroyed.  She
had been knocked unconscious in the attack, just after Quincy's double
had been destroyed.  She had awoken in the hospital two days later. 
Waiting for her had been a representative from Genom.  He told her that
her failure to protect Genom assets and interests had resulted in
substantial losses to the company.  As a result of that, her employment
had been terminated.

Then Sylia had come with her offer.  It was an offer of revenge, but
also of life.  She held no illusions about her chances of survival if
she had refused.  After all, Genom still had at least a dozen Doberman's
in deep storage below the tower, along with the capacity to make more.

So the only way to survive was to fight.  Before, all her battles used
information, but now she had to get her hands dirty.  The guns Mackie
had installed on her hardsuit were not for show.

*Her* hardsuit, what an interesting concept.  Her only previous
experience with combat exo-skeletons had been studying the different
types used world wide.  Of course, the Knight Saber's hardsuits
surpassed every single one in almost all categories.  And now one of
those amazing suits was hers, if one ignored the bomb that Sylia had
installed.

Then there was Sylia herself, ever the enigma.  A cold attitude, often
acting like she was able to just stop time and look at the situation for
a while.  Madigan wasn't sure when Sylia would begin asking for
information about Genom's policies and procedures, but she knew that day
was coming.

*Kathryn Madigan is dead.*  The thought surprised her, both in it's
suddenness and it's accuracy.  She looked back to the mirror, the face
looking more and more like her own.

"Well, Morgan," she said to the mirror, "let's see what the boss wants
us for tonight."

*******

It was a simple job, at least in theory.  Five million American Dollars
(the minimum Sylia would accept for a contract), the full amount paid in
advance, and all they had to do was blow up a shipment of industrial
boomers.

That being said, every single member of the Knight Sabers (including the
newest one) could sense a trap.  Even so, they had already been paid, so
they had to make some kind of effort.

Sylia decided that the best way to destroy the shipment was in transit. 
The tractor rig could match speeds with the transport, and had slightly
better mobility.  And if the job turned out to be a trap, it also had
ten centimeter thick armor plating.

While the Knight Sabers suited up, Sylia's attention was drawn to the
newest member.  The woman who walked into Sylia's office two hours
before was not the same one who had walked out of them earlier that
day.  Gone were the lavender locks, replaced by a more conservative
style matching the identification papers.  Gone also was her old name. 
>From almost the moment she walked in, the name Morgan was insisted on. 
The only explanation given was "Kathryn Madigan is dead."  That suited
Sylia, but the others seemed a little "freaked," as Mackie put it.

Morgan had finished sealing her newly painted suit before she noticed
Sylia's gaze.  Sylia raised an eyebrow, making a slight gesture toward
the suit.  Morgan replied with a shrug, then donned her helmet.

The suit was a copy of Priss', with a few minor adjustments.  The spines
and horns sticking out had been removed, giving it a smoother look.  The
weapon arm had been modified as well.  Mackie removed the small knuckle
bomber, and had replaced it with a second pair of rail guns, set just
above and behind the wrist.  The paint job was what caught the most
attention, though.  While the suit had gray joints and white hands, like
all the others, most of the rest was painted black.  The only other
patches of color were the helmet and legs, which were a dark purple with
black trim.

"Won't the color's be a bit of a giveaway?" Linna asked.  A shudder went
though the compartment as Mackie got the rig moving.

"Maybe," Morgan replied.  "If so, then that is good.  They'll know, and
they'll be afraid."

*******

The transport was slightly smaller than the rig.  It was longer, though,
with two separate trailers attached to the cab.  Everything appeared to
be in order, with IR, UV, and EM emissions consistent with deactivated
boomers coming from the trailers.

"Nothing left to do but take a look," Sylia explained.  Directing Mackie
to pull alongside the transport, she led the other Sabers through the
roof hatch.  Once on the roof, Sylia marched forward, ignoring the wind
caused by traveling over eighty kph.

The first sign of danger came when she saw the driver.  The man's face
was blank, with vacant eyes that screamed "boomer" in Sylia's mind.  The
identification was confirmed when the driver turned to face them, and a
glare appeared in his red eyes.

"Take it out," Sylia ordered.  Morgan raised her arm in response, and
blew the boomer's head off with her cannon.

Before the remains of the driver could slump down, the rest of the
transport was consumed in a large fireball.  Mackie struggled to keep
control of the rig, while the Knight Sabers held onto the roof.  As the
burning remains of the transport began to drop back, over a dozen dark
shapes emerged, speeding along on thrusters.

Sylia examined the twelve combat boomers, Bu-12B's if she was not
mistaken.  They were positioning themselves around the rig, which was
going close to one hundred twenty kph by now, waiting for some signal.

"Why are they not attacking?" Sylia queried on a private channel to
Morgan's suit.

"Coordination software.  One of the bugs in it causes the units to have
to wait for a certain criteria before they attack.  Unless they're being
controlled from an outside source, which would mean that the controller
is messing with our heads."

"Nene," Sylia ordered over the main channel, "start a frequency scan. 
Try to jam anything going between the boomers, and anything going from
them to an exterior source."

"Already on it,"  Nene replied, her suit's antennae extending.  "They're
using some kind of frequency hopping, I'm trying to get the pattern." 
There was a short pause, during which the boomers continued to pace the
rig.  None of the Knight Sabers took any action, though, since that
might trigger the boomers to open fire.  A few minutes later, Nene
indicated that she had found the signal.

"Jam it," Sylia replied.

"No," Morgan interrupted, "first tell us what's coming in."

The hardsuit helmets blocked the glare Sylia shot, but she nodded to
Nene.

"Well," Nene paused for a moment, "no real data is coming in or going
out.  It's more like some kind of carrier signal."

"Which one is it going to?" Morgan asked.

"All of them."

"Is there a point to this?" Sylia asked.  "In case you didn't notice, we
are running out of highway." Which was true, their original plan had
been on a tight schedule.  If they were too long in destroying the
target, they would either have to break off, or carry the battle to the
harbor district streets.

"There are two things that can happen," Morgan explained.  "Either
attacking or cutting of the signal will be their cue to attack.  Do you
have any notion of our survival chances if we get hit by those cannons?"

"Mackie," Sylia called over the radio, "emergency stop in ten seconds." 
She looked to the others.  "You may want to brace yourselves."

Handholds were found with less than a second to spare.  From the rim and
sides of the trailer, small vents were extended.  The squeal of brakes
was accompanied by a loud sound coming from the vents.  Morgan risked a
quick glance, and saw that the vents were thrust nozzles, similar to
what was on the hardsuits, though larger.

Those thrusters, combined with the conventional braking system, caused
the rig to come to a stop in record time.  Of course, the momentum
nearly turned the Knight Sabers into splatters on the highway.  Most of
the boomers swerved to avoid the truck, but two of the boomers did not
react in time, and were crushed when they slammed into the rear of the
trailer.

The other ten, though, were not so easily destroyed.  They took some
potshots at the truck as they raced by, but the shots could not
penetrate the armor.

"Fire!" Sylia called.  The Knight Sabers responded at once, opening up
with everything they had.  Two more boomers were destroyed before they
could turn around, and another three were blown to pieces by the time
the group reached the rig.

Mackie had taken the smart path, and was now hidden in a small armored
compartment in the cab.  The others prepared for close combat, while
Nene tried to keep the police from noticing the firefight and at the
same time was looking for a way to disrupt the boomer's control
circuits.

Sylia's blades extended, while Linna charged her knuckle bomber.  Morgan
stood back and continued to fire at the boomers as they made strafing
runs on th rig.  Sylia and Linna were in the air after the first pass,
while Morgan cursed as the needles from her rail guns bounced off the
boomer's armor.  Taking careful aim, not something that is easy when the
target is both moving and shooting at you, she managed to put three
needles into one of the boomer's optical sensors.  The blinded (and
malfunctioning) cyberdroid proved to be an easy target for her pulse
cannon.

Linna was having a much easier time.  All she had to do was hold the
boomer off with her tri-cannon until the knuckle bomber was charged. 
Once that happened, it was over for the boomer in question.

Sylia, though, was having the easiest time.  Two Bu-12B's had targeted
her, and were obviously well programmed.  But no computer program could
outdo the human mind when it came to unconventional thinking.  Putting
her flight pack on maximum burn, the charged right it, jinxing in random
directions to enemy fire.  Once close enough, each boomer received an
energy blast to the face, followed by a sword bisecting them.  As the
pieces fell, Sylia turned toward the last boomer.

Just in time to see it explode in midair.

Nene giggled.  "Since the rest of you were busy, I hacked into its
control circuitry."

"You made it self destruct?" Morgan asked.  Nene nodded in reply.

Sylia knocked on the side of the cab.  "Come on, Mackie, time to go."

*******

The attitudes after the battle were normal.  Linna talked about her
latest boyfriend, while Nene whined about the others being so much
better in combat than her.  Sylia quietly got dressed, having
deactivated Mackie's spy devices upon entering the room, and walked over
to the newest member.

Morgan had removed her softsuit in record time (her aversion to the
color pink was likely the reason).  At the moment, she was fiddling with
the weapon arm of her hardsuit.  Ignoring Sylia's approach, she
succeeded in removing the weapon portion, leaving the skeletal supports
and the interface glove.

"What are you doing?" Sylia asked.

Morgan hefted the mechanical gauntlet.  "This weapon is a piece of
junk."

Linna and Nene stopped their banter to watch the exchange.  Sylia simply
raised one eyebrow.  "Can you be more specific than that?"

"Simple," Morgan replied. "The rail guns, while effective against
lighter C-class cyberdroids, if all but useless against anything with
armor greater than class six ferro-ceramic plating.  Any frontline
combat boomer could shrug these needles off without a problem, as we saw
tonight."

"What do you propose, then?"

"Take out the extra two rail guns.  By eliminating the need to keep the
magnetic coils charged, the beam cannon could fire more full power
bursts before needing to charge."

"No problems were reported with the railguns in the past."

Morgan laughed.  "That's because you gave them to someone who didn't
know how to use ranged weapons.  You had a street fighter, not a
marksman in that suit, and she didn't realize that her job wasn't to
engage in close combat."

Sylia shrugged.  "That may be so, but it is also not what I wished to
talk to you about."

"So spit it out."

Linna and Nene were begining to look more than a little peeved, but
Sylia was as calm as ever.

"Why did you not tell us about the trigger for the coordination
program?"

"Oh, so that's it," Morgan sighed. "It's because until you told Nene to
jam it, I assumed you knew about it.  Heaven knows the daughter of the
great genius Doctor Stingray knows everything else about boomer-"

Morgan cut off as Sylia slammer her into wall.  "If you ever say, write,
or even think any slander against my father, I'll kill you myself." 
Sylia let the other woman slide to the floor, then started to walk away.

"I touchy subject, I guess," Morgan said, rubbing her throat.

"Next time you have something that might be useful to the situation,
don't wait until the last minute to say anything."

Just before Sylia walked out the door, Morgan took one last shot.  "Then
don't act like you know everything.  The world doesn't ride on your
shoulders."

Sylia glanced back.  "Are you sure about that?"

End part 2.

Notes:
1: I can't think of any other plausible reason for having high heels
with power armor.  None of the weapons have enough recoil to require
stabilizers.

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