Tempest

Closing and locking her door behind her, Nene collapsed into a chair. Her mind was flooded with thoughts and emotions, and she felt lost. Anger and hatred wove their way into her soul, so familiar now that she found them almost comforting... With that thought, her spirit rebelled. "NO!" it seemed to shout from within her. "Is that really what you want?"

She had to admit that she did not. On the other hand, the alternative seemed equally frightening. How could she forgive... how could she trust the one who had introduced these things to her life? The very thought brought a chill to her heart. It was... it was too much to ask of her.

A tear rolled down her cheek, falling with a slight splash on the back of her hand. Her left hand... her artificial hand, she reminded herself. For a moment, she stared at that hand, so smoothly integrated with her natural self. It was a part of her now... just like the anger, and the hatred. She had changed... but how so? Closing her eyes, she asked herself, "What have I become?"

"This is not good," Sylia thought, reading through the data from Nene's hardsuit. "Limited production of the 34-CX class has already begun. We are not ready for this."

Calling up the data on the hardsuit improvements, she began to compare them, element by element. The hardsuits were still superior in mobility and firepower, even to the most lethal of the boomer's weapons configurations, but the edge was not enough. Recently, they had often been outnumbered, sometimes as much as three to one, and she was not comfortable with the prospects of such a fight. Searching her mind for ideas, looking for any improvements that could be made, she came up empty. A breakthrough innovation was needed, and soon.

Christine had given them her best technology, and it was indeed impressive; still, it was not enough. The power increase was good, as it would allow for better systems in the suits, but those systems did not exist yet. Time was short, and the sense of urgency pressed her on.

Slowly, ideas began to assemble in her mind.

Several hours later, she emerged from the databank room, exhausted. The computer had set to work, modifying the existing suits where it could, and constructing new ones where necessary. Once she had verified that the construction was in progress, she went to bed.

Her sleep would not come easily. In her weariness, her mental guard dropped, and she was bombarded by images of the past -- The data unit, and the knowledge it held; the death of her father, and the look in Mackie's eyes when he learned of it. More scenes followed, triumph and tragedy --The battle with Mason high above the rest of the city; Priss's bravery and Mackie's brilliance joining to save an angry man from his own creation; the horror on Priss's face when she learned that Sylvie must die. So much emotion was bound up in their history together--Largo, and Priss with her stubborn determination not to be beaten; Vision, the reluctant warrior; Nene, and her ultimate vindication as both Knight Saber and officer of the AD Police. Nene, and her suffering. They had seen so much together, and there was so much yet to be done; somehow, she felt as if the end of it all was near.

Nene had not slept easily either. The darkness that shrouded her soul was strong, and the urge to hate was powerful. Her very heart and soul fought against it, but she feared that it was a losing battle. Hate was so easy, and trust so difficult; Sylia had called her strong, but she felt so weak in the face of her pain.

"Is this what I am doomed to be?" she asked herself. She knew the path she had started on very well, for she had seen it in another... Priss, the cynic, always doubting, always expecting the worst. Of late, she had found herself increasingly in agreement with her, but the thought of becoming like her frightened her. She could see no way around it.

Another realization struck her then. "They are very much alike," Linna's words echoed in her mind. Was that to be her destiny as well? She had heard the saying; we often become that which we most hate. Was that her fate? The thought overpowered her, and she began to cry.

Christine wandered into the construction chamber, watching with fascination as the machines worked. The most amazing thing, to her, was how quick the process was it had taken her days to build a single battlesuit, but these hardsuits were constructed in a matter of hours. She marveled at the level of technology represented here. Her corporation, for all of its technological prowess, had barely approached this level, and she found herself wondering if even GENOM was this advanced.

Probably not, she concluded. Sylia was brilliant in ways she had never seen, never even dreamed possible. Every generation had its spectacular minds, and she felt honored to be in the company of one. The fact that Sylia was so kind made it that much more incredible.

She had been shocked when they had beaten her, and now she began to understand why. Their skills were finely honed, their technology cutting-edge, and their teamwork perfect. The loyalty that bound them was beyond question, and she was quickly becoming caught up in it. This struck her as odd she had always been such a loner, all her life, and yet now she wanted nothing more than to be a part of this team. In a way, this was her new family.

With that realization, her heart froze. The specter of death reared its ugly head, reminding her of all she had lost. Everyone she had ever loved, ever cared for, had been taken from her, and she could not shake the fear that it would happen again. The inevitability of loss tore at her heart, until finally she summoned the courage to suppress it. This time, she had a choice; she had the power to fight, and she would not allow it to happen again.

Priss had just arrived at her trailer when the wind began to pick up. Pausing for a moment before ascending the steps, she looked at what she could see of the sky. "Nasty storm tonight, looks like," she judged. Just as she turned back toward her front door, the trailer exploded.

The phone rang, and Christine picked it up. "Hello?"

"That you, Christine?" Priss asked, out of breath.

"Yeah, what happened?" she answered. "You sound like-"

"Shhh!" Priss cut her off. "They've found us. I don't know how..." her voice trailed off.

"No." Christine answered firmly.

"You'd better be telling me the truth," Priss threatened. "I'm on my way."

"Should I wake up Sylia?"

"Not yet. Wait 'til I get there."

Priss stormed into the room, glaring at Christine. "Tell me again you didn't betray us. And tell me why I should believe you."

"Believe her," Sylia interrupted as she walked into the room. "I told you I'd be watching her, and I have been."

"You're awake?" Christine looked over at her.

"The phone woke me. I picked it up, but you had already answered."

"You look terrible," Priss told Sylia bluntly.

"Just tired," she tried to smile. "No time for that now... we need to contact Nene. She might be in danger."

"I'll do it-" Christine started.

"No, let me," Priss interrupted. "She'll blame you for it."

"Christine, you call Linna," Sylia suggested as she went to get some coffee.

Christine nodded and went to make the call.

"I'm on my way," Linna said, hanging up the phone and grabbing her keys. Thinking that her car might be sabotaged, she changed her mind and called a cab.

"She's not answering her phone!" Priss yelled from the other room.

"We'll have to go get her, then," Sylia sighed. "Get the suits ready."

"If we wear them, we'll give her away," Christine commented.

"Too late to worry about that now. If they found Priss, we've probably all been compromised anyway."

It was almost ten minutes before Linna arrived. "Good thing I live close," she said as she walked in. Immediately going to the hardsuit storage, she looked back to say something to Sylia. It was at that moment that all hell broke loose.

A powerful explosion blew the building's north wall inward, spraying debris through the room. Linna caught a glimpse of something moving on the other side, then the roof collapsed.

"Sylia!" she shouted, trudging through the debris to reach her. She was half buried under pieces of wall and ceiling, and by the time Linna reached her she was barely breathing. "Sylia's down!" she screamed over the howling storm.

"Hell!" Christine cursed as she slipped into her hardsuit. Running through the door with Priss right behind, she charged into the destroyed room. "Go get in your suit," she told Linna as she and Priss began removing the debris. "We'll take care of Sylia."

As Linna went to suit up, Priss looked at Christine. "Where's Mackie?" she asked.

"I don't know..." Christine answered. "I'll go find him."

"No need," Mackie's voice came in through the helmet. "I made for the hangar as soon as I heard the explosion. I'm bringing the KnightWing to pick you up."

"Thanks, Mackie," Priss answered. "Quick as you can! Sylia's in a bad way."

"I'll try... it's going to be hard to hover in this storm, though."

Just as they got the last piece of debris cleared, Linna came back in. "How bad?" she asked.

"She's still alive, but just barely," Christine answered. "She might make it if she gets help soon."

"Come on, Mackie..." Priss thought, "Come on..."

"I think I saw a boomer outside right before the roof fell," Linna said.

"Long gone by now, no doubt," Christine scowled, trying to shield the unconscious Sylia from the wind and rain. About forty-five seconds later, the KnightWing was directly overhead. Mackie lowered a cable, and Priss carried Sylia up to him. "Go she shouted as she dropped back through the hatch, and Mackie flew out as fast as he could go.

When Priss landed next to Christine, Linna had left. A second later, she reappeared holding Nene's hardsuit.

"Let's go," Priss said, and they took off.

Nene awoke to a very loud banging at her door. Clambering out of bed, she ran to the door and looked through the peephole. Upon seeing the other Sabers, minus Sylia, dressed for battle, she let them in. "Where's Sylia?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"Hurt. Bad," Priss informed. "They found us, Nene."

Nene was stunned. For a moment, she was silent, then her shock turned to anger as her gaze rested on Christine.

"She didn't do it, Nene," Priss said firmly.

"I'm sure she didn't," Nene answered, her voice cold.

"I said, she didn't do it," Priss's temper began to flare.

"Wait," Linna interrupted. "We don't h ave time for this. We've got to decide what we're going to do now."

"GENOM crossed the line," Priss answered. "It's us or them now... this is war."

Nene nodded her agreement immediately. Christine, too, felt a grim determination overcome her. Linna was more hesitant, but even she realized that it was the only way.

"Tonight it ends," Starblade said deliberately, and even Nene had to agree.