Bubblegum Crisis: The Next Generation: First Night Back

Why does this have to happen? I'm back for less than a day, I've only just been to visit Micchan's grave, and already I'm in a fight against boomers.

When Sylia has mentioned boomers rampaging in district 17 I had thought that it might be the usual selection of a couple of combat boomers; nothing but a few minutes sweat and then home again.

Instead it seems that someone else was attacking a GENOM facility, and the 'boomer rampage' was a mistaken report of the defensive forces trying to fight off the attackers. About a dozen of the facility's stock of C-56 and BU-17 combat boomers had been unleashed against a rather more motley collection of boomers, most of which were almost pre-Knight Sabre era according to Linna.

"I hate the political ones," mom griped as the van approached the drop-off point that Sylia had chosen for us. "Why can't we just let these people wipe out the factory?"

"Because of how these people are going about this," Sylia replied, sounding like she didn't much like the situation either. I wasn't about to complain; helping GENOM at all just sucked. "The conflict is spreading out beyond the regular limits of the facility, and it's going to endanger the local population in the near future. We need to prevent that from happening. If we can take down the attackers, then GENOM's forces will have to pull back as well."

"So long as we can take out some of GENOM's boomers along the way, I'll be okay with that," I commented.

"While I would prefer that we didn't do that, I don't see that we'll have much choice about taking out at least a few of GENOM's own defenders. Just try to keep it to a minimum. Remember: the more time that we spend taking out GENOM's own boomers means less time spent taking out their attackers, which means a greater chance of civilian casualties."

On that at least we all seemed to agree.

From the rooftop we had settled on we watched the battle in progress, and I found myself wondering how often this was going to happen.

"Okay, we're going in," Sylia declared. "Priss, Linna, you pair and I will head around the back and try to cut off the attacker's line of retreat. Nene, you stay here and provide support. We'll need to move quickly to ensure that none of them get out and harm civilians."

"What about me?" I asked, looking Sylia hard in the back of her helmet. She'd better not make me sit this one out.

"I need you to remain here as well Yumeko," Sylia replied, ignoring my stare. "Largely in case Nene spots anything and we can't reach it in time. In this kind of battle, having someone on the sidelines who isn't already entangled in a fight of their own will be more of an asset than having an extra Hardsuit in the fight. We don't have time to argue about this now. Knight Sabres, Go!"

As the three of them leapt from the rooftop, heading off into the distance, I stood there, various feelings running through me. Betrayal was there; I'd only just come back and I was being told to stay out of the way, just like at the Summit. Fear was stepping in; I'd been out of a Hardsuit for over a year, aside from a couple of times in America. Was I out of practise?

But at the same time I was elated; I was back in a Hardsuit, even if I wasn't being allowed into the main fight, I was still back in the team. And at the same time I had a grandstand view of the Knight Sabres seriously kicking boomer arse.

My mind flashed back to one time when I'd been younger, and I'd been watching old recordings of the Knight Sabres in action. Even then I'd been keen on athletics and had been amazed by the sleek and brilliant movements of the armoured figures on the screen. Now, having used a Hardsuit myself, I was once again in the position of being able to watch the Knight Sabres in action, but being able to fully appreciate just how totally brilliant they really were.

Even Nene was clearly brilliant at what she did, as she muttered to herself, the irregular flickering across my sensors showing that she was doing her job as well.

It was however, a bit boring after a while. Sure it was great to watch, but I still wanted to be out there myself. Then I got my chance.

"What is that?"

I frowned at Nene's question then followed her gaze. In a back-alley between two of the buildings that made up the outer limits of the facility, a dark shape was skulking. During the lightning-like flashes from weapons fire, I managed to make out a humanoid figure, very tall, and very bulky. Definitely a boomer and not a design I recognised which put it with most of the older designs that the attackers were throwing around. "Dunno. I've got it though," I added as I stepped off the building, leaping towards the alleyway.

The thing saw me coming, and had back-pedalled deeper into the alley before I reached it. I leapt at it again, trying to get a lock with my MDDs as I did, and finding that the target lock was skittering all over the place rather than actually settling on the damned boomer. The thing had good ECMs that much was for certain. Well, that just meant that I would need to rely on close-combat skills.

Landing in a crouch a couple of metres away from the retreating boomer, I primed my knuckled bomber, surging upwards towards the boomer's face. A definite one-hit-kill. I'd done it dozens of times before, so why would now be any different?

Using some kind of blocking technique, the boomer grabbed my arm just behind the knuckle bomber, neatly avoiding triggering it, and then collapsed backwards, pulling me with it and throwing me further down the alley, whether by accident or design slamming my knuckle bomber against the ground in the process, throwing shards of concrete all over the place and making me completely lose my balance on the landing.

Smoothly coming to my feet again, I managed to block an attack from its left hand then had to dodge far more abruptly as some kind of two-pronged blade flowed like liquid into a mould out of the boomer's right gauntlet and speared towards my gut, acquiring a nasty blue glow as it came.

I lost my balance as I collapsed to the side, but managed to bounce back up again in time to avoid the second thrust. Backing up a bit, I ignited the lasersword in my right gauntlet and tried to parry the third strike.

Both blades spat a shower of sparks when they met, and energy-containment failure warnings lit up all over my visor's HUD in the second before I pulled back. The lasersword was spluttering quite alarmingly, though the glow around the boomer's blade was coruscating quite a bit as well, so it had probably come out no better than I had from that encounter.

We both stepped back, watching each other warily and retracting our respective blades, both apparently realising that there was no way we were going to be able to risk using those against each other. Running a hasty bypass, I transferred the power to my Hardsuit's other weapons, before springing in towards the boomer, firing a brief burst with my laser and then continuing with a spinning kick, my leg bomber glowing.

The laser scored a hit, and the boomer reeled a bit from that, but then regained its senses enough to make a grab at my foot, once again avoiding setting off the bomber, but having a sufficient grip to twist sharply and spin me over, before darting backwards several metres, some kind of weapon unfolding on its shoulder.

I was already diving to one side when the weapon fired, spitting a ball of fire that burned with a white-hot core straight at me. My dive carried me out of the way, but the shot struck the wall just behind where I had been standing, the fireball exploding outwards and washing over me as I hit the floor.

Rolling away from the explosion, and glad that Sylia had built the Hardsuits to withstand being on the edge of an explosion like that, I came up, firing my laser again, as well as a couple of MDDs for effect.

This time I got a good look at the boomer as it was hit, the black armour burning away to reveal a second layer of armour underneath, while an MDD cut into the boomer's thigh, before exploding somewhere behind it. The second MDD missed entirely, taking a chunk out of a wall.

Why won't you stand still? I griped, before mentally kicking myself. Maybe I am out of practise, I considered as I charged the pulse-strikers. "Say 'cheese'," I said, manually aiming the MDD launcher and activating the pulse-strikers at the same time.

Normally when the pulse-strikers activate, they caught a boomer to freeze in place, occasionally jerking like its muscles are all pulling in opposite directions at the same time. It's a useful trick and I'm glad Sylia gave me it, even if she did make it sound like she was only giving me it because I was inexperienced.

This time, it was surprising because the boomer didn't freeze in place. Instead the black armour began glowing a pale yellow, which seemed to cause the boomer some concern, but didn't actually seem to cause it any other trouble.

I was shocked enough that for a second there I forgot to actually fire the MDDs, but before I could recover, the boomer did.

"Wait a minute... You're a Knight Sabre!"

Weirdness was already spiking into danger levels. Most boomers just recognise the Knight Sabres instantly and don't bother to point it out, even the second generation AI models.

Next weird thing: most boomers speak the local language, in a slightly mechanical local accent, unless they have a reason not to. Sylia mentioned that it was part of the language software that they could handle almost any accent they were likely to encounter, and even mid-grade boomers could pick up a new one in a couple of minutes. This boomer was speaking English, in Japan, and did so with an American accent.

I was glad for the full helmet at that point, because my jaw would probably have hit the floor as the boomer continued.

"Those things are meant to freeze a boomer solid," it declared, pointing at my Hardsuit's pulse-strikers before punching the air. "Ha-Hah! Nightshade Bio-armour neutralises one of your favourite weapons! Lady, you just doubled my Christmas bonus!"

I had the distinct feeling I was being mocked here, and glared at it. "Since when did boomers get a Christmas anything?"

"Huh? Oh, the armour..." The boomer reached up, touching part of the faceplate, and pulling it upwards. Underneath was-

I gasped. The last time I had been up against a real Human being had been in America when two of GENOM's henchmen had tracked me down. I hadn't realised at the time that they were Human at all, and had killed them before discovering my mistake. Now, on my own relative home-ground, I had nearly done the same thing again.

The guy inside the armour was apparently tall, with the armour only adding about twenty centimetres to his height. I couldn't see his face properly in the darkness of the alley, but he didn't seem to be bad looking, and was clearly in his prime. I could make out the grin, like he was pleased to see me for some reason. I also belatedly spotted the GENOM logo on his shoulders, the dark blue blending into the black armour except where it caught the light.

"Captain Roy Brooks, GENOM Internal Security division, on loan from GIS Washington. May I take it that the Knight Sabres are here to deal with these attackers rather than helping them?"

"It wasn't my choice," I replied, trying to sound tough despite the shock I was feeling. A trivial verbal stab it might have been, but the shock of finding myself up against a Human being again had thrown me.

"None-the-less, you're not here to cause us trouble." He touched a control on a panel that unfolded from his left gauntlet. "This is Digger 1, all units command overwatch priority: designate Knight Sabres as non-hostile targets until further notice." There was an affirmative bleep, and the panel retracted. "So, now that you're here, and we know that we're not enemies at the moment, would you like to return to the fight?"

"After you," I declared, stepping aside so that he could get past. No way was I going to trust this guy enough to turn my back on him.

"Have it your way," he replied cheerfully, his faceplate folding back into place. "Don't get left behind...

"Yumeko."

I had been back in Mega-Tokyo for a few days now, and the minor bruises that we had all received as a result of that welcome-back battle had all but faded. Mom, Linna and I had been to Hot Legs, not for a performance, but for a drink instead.

As we came out, all heading for Linna's car, she stopped and frowned across the road. "Him again?"

For a moment I was wondering if she was trying to pick up a prospective boyfriend; even after all these years she still can't pick someone up for long. Apparently she was worse back before I was born.

Then I followed her gaze, and my eyes settled on the guy she was looking at. He was tall, with black hair and a well built physique. It wasn't pure muscle like some kind of body-builder, but more like someone who actually used their muscle for a living. It was a quieter kind of strength than the alternative. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, and had a jacket on over it. He was leaning casually against a motorbike, which looked like a standard design rather than a custom job.

It was his face that caught my attention though. I had been over my Hardsuit's combat recorder footage often enough that I wasn't likely to forget that face in a hurry.

"You recognise him?" I asked Linna.

"He's been turning up various places recently, just sitting there and watching. I can't work out if I should call the police or not."

Even now that all three of us were staring at him, he didn't seem put off, and simply smiled invitingly.

"Mom, have you got a gun with you?"

Mom gave me a startled look, then nodded. "Yeah," she said, her tone low and cautious, like we were about to go into combat.

"If he makes a wrong move, blow his head off," I said, setting off across the road. As I approached him, I moved off to the right so that he had to turn his head to keep watching me.

"Smart move, keeping out of your mom's line of fire," he said, not sounding put out by the possibility. He did however stand up for long enough to put his hands on the bodywork of the motorbike and sit firmly on them. "Better?" He spoke flawless Japanese, though with a distinct American accent.

"A bit," I admitted from a couple of metres away. "Why are you following us?"

"'Us?' Who said I was interesting in all of you?" He grinned at me, a kind of boyish enthusiasm that made him look a good few years younger than he probably was. How old is he anyway? I asked myself. He could be anything from early-twenties to a youthful late-thirties.

"So you're following me around? I've got a self-professed GENOM agent following me around?"

"Internal Security division doesn't handle surveillance work," he replied. "Anyway, I'm off duty right now. This is entirely my own interest," he declared with that grin creeping onto his face again.

"Don't tell me you're getting a crush on me," I warned him.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued."

"'Intrigued?'"

"Yumeko, I've seen your file. You weren't meant to be able to walk for five months, optimistically, following the injuries at the Summit. They gave good odds that you would never walk properly again. Despite that, you were doing gymnastics within six months and won gold at the Olympics in less than twenty. There are people right now that are still recovering from less serious injuries that they received at the Summit while on your first night back in Mega-Tokyo in a year you went out in a Hardsuit as if nothing had happened. Hell yeah, I'm intrigued."

I stared at him, not quite believing what I was hearing. Was this someone working for GENOM trying to tell me that he was impressed by what I had done? I tried to draw myself back to the situation. "So what now? You're following me around to find the other Knight Sabres?"

"I don't need to. We got your mother's name years ago. Based on your mother GENOM Intelligence had the list of possible Knight Sabres down to less than a hundred years before the Summit. They got Sylia Stingray from the encrypted files on Brian Mason's computers. Add onto that Boh's information about your friends and between you, your mother, and Ms Stingray, there isn't a lot of overlap." He nodded down at his left breast pocket. "There's a piece of paper in there. I don't want to move my hands," he added with a grin.

I glanced at his pocket, and then gingerly reached out, slipping my hand into his pocket and finding a piece of paper just inside it. He kept perfectly still, the kind of stillness that meant he trained for more than just fighting things, as I slipped it out and held it almost at arm's length between two fingers.

"No toxins, no nanites, no plagues, nothing. Call it levelling the playing field a bit," he said, his tone still casual, but with a serious edge to it.

Keeping my eyes on him, I unfolded the paper, turning it towards him as I did and shaking it a bit. Satisfied that I had at least made a point about how much I trusted him, I turned it around and looked at what was on the paper.

I felt a coldness grip the pit of my stomach, and I'm sure that I went pale. It wasn't much more than an address list, and anyone else reading it would have wondered what the connection was. But everyone on that list was a Knight Sabre, or connected with us.

"What the hell?!" I glared at him, and his eyes flashed off to my left, presumably checking on Mom's reaction to my outburst. "What is this?"

"Like I said: levelling the playing field a bit. GENOM knows who you are and hasn't done anything about it. They probably know that I've been following you around and haven't objected. Sylia pulled the rug out from under our feet in America, and with the death of the Manx-" He smiled and continued, "sorry, Kat Madigan, you've left a power vacuum in GENOM's upper echelons. Combined with the UN and USSD's interest in our activities, the general order has been issued that until we know exactly how much trouble the Knight Sabres could cause if it took your fancy, you're officially untouchable. That list is the people that you should look at protecting."

"And who would we be protecting them from?" I asked.

"Not me. I've got other things to worry about. Got a new group to train, designs to test... But as you showed when we met before your Hardsuits are much better than our own efforts at the moment. We know that we couldn't take you on. Which is why we're not meant to."

"So what are you doing? Public service?"

"Something like that," he admitted. "Do you know how many boomer rampages GENOM actually started recently? Very few. A less than a third in fact. Genuine terrorists are starting to cause trouble with combat boomers, and with no AD Police to fight them, GENOM had decided to do its bit and get a group together to fight them. We can't have a group of vigilantes saving the day all the time," he added with mock seriousness. "Besides, this way I can keep you out of harm's way."

"What? What is that meant to mean?"

"I think that we'd be great together. We did- Oh, hi," he added, turning to face Mom and Linna, who had come over to join us. "Ms Asagiri, Ms Yamazaki."

"Yumeko, who is this guy?" Mom asked, eyeing him cautiously.

"Captain Roy Brooks, GENOM Internal Security," I declared.

Mom jerked back a step as if she'd been electrocuted or something, while Linna looked a bit shocked.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he declared. "If I wanted to do that you'd never have seen me and your car would have been rigged to explode. I just came to see Yumeko and give her something. Now, since I've done that, I think that I'll be going." He turned, slowly climbing onto the motorbike and pulling on his helmet. He revved the engine, and then just before he set off he glanced back at me.

"Oh, by the way, you never asked the obvious question: why is GENOM building boomers that work like Hardsuits at all?"

With that parting thought, he set his motorbike into motion and headed away.

Glancing at the piece of paper in my hand, I considered that question, and wondered what we were going to do about this.