Tempest

Looking over her newly-built armor, Christine "Starblade" was feeling rather proud of herself. The data supplied by her client had formed the basis for some simple modifications, and now she felt more than ready to take on the task at hand. This time, her quarry would be like nothing she had ever hunted before, and she savored the anticipation of what was to come. "Computer, prepare simulation 386-38-27, using datapacket ZA21."

As the computer worked, she climbed into her battlesuit. While still less refined than she would like, the armor was less clunky than its early versions. She felt confident that it was more agile than a K-12, at least, and it boasted far superior firepower.

Her client had provided her with detailed technical data on the combat capabilities of her targets, and she had adjusted that information upward as usual, but she still wondered what surprises they might have in store. The computer simulations were supposed to prepare her for such things, but if anyone would escape prediction, it would be they.

Glancing around the holographic cityscape, she whispered, "Begin simulation."

Her sensors have her the locations of four targets, and the fight was on.

"Do I have to?" Nene tried to beg her way out of it, but to no avail.

"Yes!" came the response from a scowling Priss. "Get in there and do it again! I'm sick of having to save your ass!"

"Calm down, Priss," Sylia spoke from the control console. "Nene, I know how much you dislike this, but if you do not learn to defend yourself you will become a danger to us all."

"But I've been training so hard... and it's not getting me anywhere!"

"Be patient, Nene," Linna reminded. "When we started, I told you it wouldn't happen immediately. You have to keep trying."

"I know, I know," Nene sighed as she pushed open the door to the training room.

"Level five again," Sylia's voice boomed in the chamber as Nene assumed a fighting stance. "Begin."

Nene gritted her teeth as the holographic opponent appeared. Immediately it moved to the attack, flailing at her with its "arms". She dodged these initial strikes easily, but in so doing moved outside of her own limited striking range. The hologram pursued, swinging first at her head, and then attempting to sweep her when she ducked. She narrowly jumped the attack, then countered with a strike to the enemy's exposed midsection. It dodged to her right, and she turned to face it. The hologram swung an arm at her head again, but the attack was slow and she avoided it with little difficulty. Unfortunately, she didn't see the other arm until it was too late. Slashing across her stomach, it scored a hit.

"Not lethal," Sylia judged. "Continue."

Nene nodded, now breathing more heavily. This was how the sessions had always gone... she performed adequately at first, but simply didn't have the endurance for an extended fight. If she wanted to win, it would have to be very soon.

Even as she had the thought, she saw an opening. Her virtual opponent punched straight outward at her, and she sidestepped, leaving her with a clear strike at its "head". It realized its mistake quickly, and tried to retreat, but she was slightly faster and scored with the attack. The hologram froze, registering a successful attack, and Nene nearly fell over from surprise.

In the control booth, Priss's jaw dropped. "She CLEARED it?"

"Indeed she did," Sylia said with a slight smile, then spoke into the microphone. "Well done, Nene."

Exhausted, Nene just nodded.
"That's enough for today," Sylia continued. "We'll test you again tomorrow, and if you can clear it again, I will make adjustments to your hardsuit."

Nene nodded again, heading for the door.

Linna met her there. "That was much better than you've done before. What was different?"

"I... really don't know," she said, still breathing with effort. "It just felt different that time."

Linna nodded. "You're learning. I guess that the training we've been doing is finally paying off."

"I guess so," Nene smiled weakly, then turned to head for a well-earned shower.

Reviewing the details of the simulation in her mind, Christine smiled... it was too easy. In fact, she realized, it was exactly that. The data she had been provided with was supposedly accurate, and she had enhanced it somewhat beyond that, but something still did not quite fit. There was a missing factor somewhere, a factor which explained her opponents' success beyond the hard data. Still, the performance of her battlesuit was well above the levels she felt necessary for this job, so she was satisfied. Stepping out of the armor, she decided that it was a good time for a shower.

As the hot water flowed over her, relaxing her sore muscles, she allowed her thoughts to drift a little. It was at times like these when the questions came... "Why do I do this?" "Why do I not seek a normal life?" The answers, too, came quickly to mind... as if rehearsed for so long that they were automatic. Ever since her parents had died, she had been bored with the life of a rich, spoiled child. the rush of excitement that came with her hunting filled a void in her spirit, and her competitive nature thrilled to the rigors of combat. Of late, though, even this had become boring. It had been a long time since anyone had truly challenged her; perhaps that was the reason she was so thrilled about this new job.

As she dried herself off and looked into the mirror, she again faced the realizations of what she gave up for this thrill. She was quite pretty, with flowing brown hair and emerald eyes, and her body was desirable - she could have almost any man she wanted, but she allowed herself little time for romantic pursuits. With her money and her resources, she could go anywhere and do anything she desired, but instead she chose a life of battle. At times, she wondered if the sacrifices were too great, if she could enjoy that type of life, and perhaps find adventure of another sort. But always underlying her decision was another, darker, and more familiar emotion. For an instant, she could feel the anger swell inside her. Unwilling to let it flow, she suppressed it... but now she remembered the reasons why.

"This should be a relatively simple assignment," Sylia addressed the assembled Knight Sabers. "As you probably know, the Japanese division of Stevenson Incorporated has been at odds with Genom for some time over a military contract. The Stevenson entry in the competition is being transported from their corporate complex to a local USSD base, and they have hired us to protect the prototype from a possible boomer attack."

"Sounds plain enough," Linna agreed. "Are we supposed to be visible or secret?" "They didn't specify, so I'm assuming an overt escort is what they had in mind. Better to deter an assault by our presence than to fight one off, I would say."

"Something seems wrong about this, Sylia," Priss spoke up. "Why would Stevenson need us to guard their equipment? They have the resources to do this sort of work in-house."

"I wondered about that myself," Sylia admitted. "Perhaps they do not trust their own security?"

"That's a comforting thought."

"No activity so far," Nene commented.

"Confirmed," Mackie answered, far above in the KnightWing. Looking down on the convoy, he could see each of the Sabers as they hovered over the Stevenson trucks. The passers-by looked up at them in awe, but only momentarily. In truth, such a sight was nothing new in Megatokyo.

At the front of the group was Priss, who wore a scowl beneath her helmet. She did NOT like this job... something just didn't add up about it, but she couldn't quite tell what it was. Even she had to admit, though, that the pay was too good to pass up. Another reason to be suspicious, to her mind.

The pick-up operation had proceeded smoothly, and they were aobut halfway to their destination. Priss could not help but wonder what was so valuable that the megacorp would be willing to hire them to protect it. Also, why would such a largely American company work on this sensitive of a project in Japan... right under Genom's nose? "Too many variables," she muttered to herself.

"Agreed," answered Sylia, realizing that Priss had not meant to vocalize her feelings, but finding validity in them nonetheless. "Keep your eyes open."

"Nothing to see so far," Nene reassured.

A few minutes, and a few kilometers, passed without event, and even Priss allowed herself to relax a bit. Each moment took them closer to the USSD base, reducing the likelihood of an attack. Still, suspicion was strong in her mind. Suddenly, a voice cut through the relative silence.

"Incoming!" Mackie called, "Two C-class boomers about half a kilometer back."

"I see them," answered Nene, turning to face the attackers. "Confirm 55-C class."

"Brace for battle," Sylia ordered. "Priss, Linna, come with me. Nene, stay with the convoy, keep an eye out for more boomers."

"Roger," came the unanimous response.

"Knight Sabers, sanjo!" With a flash of blue, Sylia fired her motoslave's thrusters and charged toward the incoming boomers. Glancing right she saw Linna, already on the ground, and she instinctively knew that Priss was right behind her. the boomers were at ground level, so she separated herself from the motoslave and used her jump unit to land.

Seeing them, the first boomer turned to fire at Linna. Nimbly dodging, she performed a front handspring and vaulted into the air. Her leap carried her completely over the first boomer and she fell toward the second. It raised its gun to fire, but she was coming down much too fast. Bracing her left hand on the boomer's shoulder, she drove her right into its head. The knuckle bomber flared, and explosions gutted the mechanical monster. Turning in the air, Linna dropped softly to her feet.

The first boomer, not even noticing the demise of his partner-in-crime, charged on toward the convoy. Meeting him halfway there, Priss fired her flechette cannon at him. the boomer had expected this, and dodged, but it was only intended as a distraction. the true threat was behind, as Sylia's sword pierced the back of its head. Hydraulic fluid and sparks flew as the boomer collapsed in a heap, and Priss fired another pair of flechettes into his exposed circuitry just to be sure.

Looking back, they saw that the convoy had gotten well ahead of them, as had Nene. Suddenly, they heard her cry, "Power surge in the lead truck! it's going to..."

Ka-BLAM! The first truck in the convoy was ripped from its chassis as the trailer it was carrying went up in a massive fireball. Debris rained on the street around it and thick, black smoke filled the air. Struggling to see from the center of the cloud, Nene engaged her scanners in a vain attempt to locate the source of the explosion.

"Careful Nene," she heard Sylia warn, "We're coming!"

"Sis," Mackie warned, "There's something still down there!"

"My sensors don't show anything! I can't see for all the smoke!" Nene yelled in desperation. firing her motoslave's thrusters, she attempted to fly above the clouds which enveloped her. Just as she began to emerge, she saw a bright plume of flame.

"Nene! Incoming!" Mackie warned, far too late. Nene's instincts took over, and her left arm flew up to block the attack just as she saw it. Her heart seemed to freeze in horror when she realized -- missile!

An eternal second later, the weapon exploded, its proximity fuse detecting her arm as she attempted to deflect it. The blast crushed the arm of her hardsuit, shattering her forearm and wrist, and she screamed. Losing all control, she fell from the sky.

"NENE!" Linna screamed as the red and blue hardsuit crashed to the ground, unmoving. Consumed by fury, she triggered her jump unit and launched herself into the air. The emitters on her gauntlet glinted as she leapt toward the armored figure which emerged from the smoke, and she drove her attack home. The knuckle bomber made contact, flared... and nothing happened.

"Nani?!" she managed before her adversary's backhand flung her away. Turning, the armored figure--apparently a woman, though the battlesuit's bulk made it hard to tell--aimed at her with her right arm. Linna braced herself as well as she could while trying to right herself with her jump unit, and a bright flash exploded from the hand of the enemy.

The pulse cannon struck Linna with all of its fury, driving her backwards through a nearby building. Christine could not help but laugh at the futility of the Knight Saber's attack... she was well prepared for that particular weapon, at least. Her laughter stopped, however, when Linna came back through the wall, her hardsuit virtually undamaged.

"Just go AWAY!" Christine screamed, taking aim with her other arm.

The Knight Saber kept coming, no longer fearing her, but was brought to a sudden halt when Christine's energy web surrounded her. Stripped of momentum, she crashed to the ground.

"You bitch!" she heard a shout from her right. Turning to face it, she saw Priss charging her. Raising her arm to fire again, she saw a blinding flash and was suddenly thrown backwards.

"Ahhhh..." she moaned weakly as she felt her left shoulder disintegrate under the force of the blast. The armor-piercing round ripped through armor and flesh, nearly severing her left arm, and Christine immediately lost consciousness from the pain.

Priss watched with angry satisfaction as the mercenary hit the ground amid the remains of the destroyed truck. She turned around, and all her anger fled her. "Nene!" she cried, as she saw her fallen friend. Nene was in a bad way. Her left hand and her arm below the elbow were crushed inside the hardsuit, and she was losing blood rapidly. "Damn, I knew this was a trap," Priss whispered. Nene only groaned, stirring slightly.

Sylia dropped to the ground beside her and picked up Nene. "Let's go. We have to get her some medical help, quickly."

Linna walked up, having freed herself from the web. "What about her?" she pointed at the armored form of their opponent, lying in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.

"She's dead anyway," Priss answered.

"Probably," Sylia agreed, though not so certain. "We don't have time to deal with her anyway. Let's go."

"OPERATOR DISABLED. RETURN TO BASE," Doctor James Boston read from the monitor screen.

"Damn it all, Christine. I knew this would happen eventually," he muttered, shaking his head and preparing for the worst. As he walked into the secret garage exit, he saw the mauled battlesuit fly in. It set down on the ground in front of him and opened, and Christine slumped out into his arms, still unconscious.

"Dear God," he breathed, seeing the extent of her wounds, and he carried her to the medlab.

Sylia was distraught as she looked over the X-rays of Nene's arm. With help, they had managed to stabilize her, so at least she would live... but the doctor's prognosis had not been good.
"Lower arm broken in six places... wrist shattered beyond repair... hand crushed," she echoed, shaking her head in near-despair.

"We knew this would happen eventually," Priss pointed out. "This is a dangerous business."

"But I... I walked us into a trap. I walked her," she indicated the sleeping Nene, "into a trap. She's so young... and this has to happen to her."

"It could have been worse," Linna tried to comfort. "If the missile had hit her body instead of her arm..."

"Then she would be dead," Sylia finished, then added, "and it would be my fault."

"NO!" Priss turned violently, barely suppressing an urge to slap Sylia across the face. "It is NOT your fault! Nene knew this job was dangerous when she accepted it!"

"But I am responsible..."

"No." Priss cut her off. "If nothing else, your insistence that she train for combat may have saved her life. Get a hold of yourself."

Sylia sighed. "Perhaps... perhaps you are right.. Still, it is time we rethought some things."

"Ohhhh...." Christine moaned as her eyelids fluttered open. "Ouch."

"Ouch," Dr. Boston repeated. "It's good to see you awake again."

"What hit me?"

"Armor-piercing shell. Designed to disable a boomer in a single shot I'd say you came out of it pretty well."

Looking over to her left side, she said, "Cybernetic shoulder?"

He frowned. "You can tell?"

"Not enough left of the old one to heal like this. How long have I been out?"

"Just over a day, actually. You're recovering pretty quickly."

"What about the armor?"

"You intend to use it again?" his voice took on a very disapproving tone.

"Certainly. I have a score to settle."

"You damn near died, Chris." he reminded.

"That's why I pay you so well," she smiled weakly.

"Whatever," he sighed, obviously frustrated, turned, and walked out.

"I guess he just doesn't understand, she thought to herself, then lay back to get some more sleep.

The blare of klaxons jarred her from her slumber. Rolling out of bed, she moved to the wall intercom. "What the hell is going on out there?" she demanded.

"We're under attack!" came the frantic response from the gate guard. "Type 12-B boomers!"

"Find cover, I'll handle it," she ordered, then slapped another button. "Prep the backup battlesuit. I'll be down in two."

"You're in no condition to fight, Chris," Dr. Boston objected as he strode into the room.

"Maybe so, but someone has to stop them from ripping this place apart."

"True," he acquiesced, "But be careful."

"Always," she smiled at him.

Two and a half minutes later, she was suited up. The doors opened to reveal a front lawn that more closely resembled a warzone. She had spent a great deal of money on the luxury of a lawn in this city, and the site of it being torn to pieces infuriated her.

"Go to hell, Genom!" she screamed as she charged into the fray, ignoring the pain which flared through her left arm when she lifted it. Turning to face the nearest boomer, she fired her energy web. The cyberdroid stepped right into the transparent mesh, and it closed around him. A quick burst of the pulse cannon shattered the metal monstrosity's armor like so much glass.

A flash on her right attracted her attention, and she nimbly stepped aside as the second of her adversaries fired its machine gun. The missile launcher swung up over her shoulder into firing position, and with an immediate lock she fired. The boomer swiftly dodged, and it was taking aim for another shot when the missile circled around and struck it in the back. The warhead detonated spectacularly, and the boomer collapsed in a shower of sparks.

"Two down, how many left?" she asked, the adrenaline in her system now canceling all her pain. She was just warming to the battle.

"None left," came a weary voice. "We trashed one at the gate, and that's all of them."

"Looks like Genom wasn't expecting much of a fight," Dr. Boston's voice cut in.

"Bastards," Christine growled. "Attacking a woman when she's down... they'll pay for that."

"Sylia, take a look at this," Priss indicated the news announcer.

"... a mysterious armored figure fought off two Bu-12-B military-type boomers on the estate grounds of Christine Stevenson. Miss Stevenson, majority owner and president of Stevenson Incorporated, could not be reached for comment, but it is known that her corporation has been one of Genom's few competitors in the market for military hardware. Genom executives declined our request for an interview regarding the incident. In other news..."

"Interesting," Sylia commented.

"At a glance, that battlesuit looked very familiar," Linna added nervously.

"Maybe so," Priss threw in. "Looks like Genom gave her the short end of the stick, though."

"Quincy has never been particularly tolerant of failure," Sylia concluded. "This could get very interesting, indeed."

Looking over some blueprints, Christine took a sip from her coffee and grumbled.

"The data Genom provided me on the Knight Sabers' capabilities was woefully inadequate. On top of that, they tried to kill me to cover their own ineptitude. I cannot let this go unanswered."

"I doubt that it was ineptitude, Chris. More likely, they deliberately gave you false or obsolete data, knowing that you would be more likely to take the job."

"And be more likely to get killed in the effort, thus covering the trail. Either way, they are going to hurt for this."

Dr. Boston sighed softly. Once Christine had set her mind on something, he knew, she could not be deterred. Time after time he had watched her don her armor and go to battle, and time after time he feared that she would not return. This last time had hurt him... the sight of her as she collapsed into his arms, totally lifeless, had burned his heart, and he did not know if he could deal with that sight again.

"You know that I have to do this, James. I have to. Even if I don't continue this, they won't just let me go."

"I know, but... be careful," he said, repeating the words for probably the hundredth time. "I almost lost you that time." A tear formed in his eye as he spoke in a near-whisper. Quickly, he looked away, hoping that she had not noticed. She gave no indication of having seen it...

...but she had.

"Nene."

Stirring slightly, the redhead slowly opened her eyes. "Sylia... I'm alive?"

"Yes, you are alive," Sylia could not help but smile. "I was worried about you for a while, but you are a good deal stronger than you let on."

Nene smiled weakly, then cringed as she began to feel again. Her left arm was a solid mass of pain from the elbow down. Looking over at it, she saw that the entire lower arm was in a cast, which prevented all movement.

"How bad is it?" she asked fearfully.

Sylia's smile faded, and she hesitated before responding. "I'm sorry, Nene... the doctor says that your arm will heal, but that your wrist and hand are beyond repair."

Nene sighed, and Sylia could see that she was holding back tears.

"I'm sorry, Nene... I really am."

Nene nodded solemnly. "I guess I'm finished as a Knight Saber, then."

"Perhaps not... there is a possibility."

"A possibility?" Nene's eyes reflected a mixture of hope and caution.

"We could construct a cybernetic replacement for the wrist and hand."

Nene bit her lower lip, considering that. "What would it be like," she wondered, "to know that a part of me was not really me? But then... what will it be like if I don't, and I can't use my hand?" The fear of giving up her part in the Knight Sabers was strong, and she knew how hard her computer work would be with one hand... and yet, she felt that to replace her hand would be to sacrifice just a bit of her humanity. It was a difficult thought, and for several minutes she sat there, slowly working through the flood of thought, fear, and hope that washed over her. Finally, she came to a decision... the only one she could make.

"Do it."