To be dragged back into a war that you had believed over is a disheartening experience, to say the least. Our will to fight was low, and our hope of victory slim. Nevertheless, we battled on. War, it has been said, is all hell, and each of us showed the ill effects. If Priss had most savored our brief freedom, she also took the return to fighting hardest of all. Again thrust into a leadership role she felt inadequate for, she seemed more weighed down by frustraton and weariness with each passing day. Even Linna, who seemed affected the least, grew tired of the constant fighting. Still, she was the most optimistic among us, insisting that we would win after all. ************************************************************ Stormwalker presents... Bubblegum Collapse A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves ************************************************************ Part Two - A Death in the Family Linna sat on the edge of her bed, hands covering her face, tears streaming between her fingers and down her cheeks. She cursed herself for her weakness, tried to compose herself... and could not. "At least the others don't see this," she thought to herself. "One of us has to be strong." Each of them was so battle-weary, and the situation looked so hopeless, that she feared they would all sink into despair. She had determined not to let that happen, even if she had to lock up all the pain inside. She wondered if any of them saw through the facade. Sylia might, but if so she had said nothing. Priss... well, Priss had other things to worry about. Nene, so young, had never lived a lie; she would not recognize the signs. Finally, Christine. The former mercenary wrestled with her own depths of pain. Even if she did see, she would be unable to help. Better to keep up the image, and hope the others believed it. Optimism was a difficult mask to hide behind, when the prospects were so bleak. Linna saw only one end to this madness... they would die, one by one or all at a time, but death was certain nevertheless. Still, they had no choice but to fight. To quit now was to admit defeat -- something they could never do. * * * * * * * * * Sylia sat alone in her databank room, her usual calm melting into frustration. The hardsuit redesign was a trying task, and it was taking far longer than she had expected. In addition, she could see the strain that the constant fighting was placing on all of them. All of them were being pushed to their limits, and the leadership was a terrible weight on the shoulders of Priss. Her glance fell to her unmoving legs. She would give almost anything to lead them again, to guide them thorugh the dangers they faced and to share those dangers with them. A twinge of guilt stuck in her mind; what right did she have to ask them to risk their lives when she did not? She sighed. As any mother would, she feared for her "children". Each time she sent them into battle, she worried that they would not return. Nene's injuries less than two months before still haunted her -- it could easily have been worse, and she could not shake the premonition that worse would soon come. * * * * * * * * * Linna performed a back handspring to evade a spray of machine-gun fire, then used her jump unit to burst skyward. A searing beam of energy flahsed just beneath her, and she breathed a quick sigh of relief at her narrow escape. "So many boomers!" she thought as she started to fall again. "I can barely evade them all." Looking down, she fired her arm laser at the nearest target, then dropped onto its shoulders. Ramming the Knuckle Bomber into the cyberdroid's head just as she leaped clear, she was rewarded with a fiery explosion. Still, there were too many left... Priss cursed under her breath as she fired two flechettes into a boomer that was getting too close to Nene. With all of the watching of others' backs, she didn't have time to watch her own; eventually that could prove disastrous. A 34-CX charged straight at her, extending twin blades from its hands. Not bothering to evade, she fired two shots from her arm cannon. The HEAP rounds smashed into the boomer's chest, and it dropped to the ground at her feet. Triggering the jump unit, she leaped backwards and pinned another boomer to the ground with the flechette cannon. "I can't see you, Chris," she called out. "I'm ok," Christine lied. In all actuality, she was in over her head; then again, so were all of them. It seemed like all of their fights were that way now. Deploying the knife from her left gauntlet, she made a backhanded slash across the body of a Bu-12. Metal ripped through metal, and the boomer staggered and fell. Even as she stepped back from the fallen hulk, a laser beam grazed her left arm. "Ouch!" she cried. "Damn!" "Watch yourself out there," Priss encouraged. "Too many other things to watch," Christine retorted, her voice strained. Finding her assailant before it could fire again, she unleashed the pulse cannon to its typically lethal effect. Nene heard this exchange somewhere in the back of her mind, but she was too busy staying alive to worry about it. Ducking an armored fist, she kicked the boomer's knees out from under it. Ramming the muzzle of her arm laser into its neck, she fired several shots. A wail of overloading electronics signaled the end of the metallic monster, and she rolled forward just in time to avoid a crushing overhand blow from behind. Sylia watched in desperation from above as her Knight Sabers barely managed to hold their own. This fight was the worst they had ever seen, and the sheer number of boomers threatened to overwhelm them at any moment. She looked down at Linna, who seemed to be the most overmatched, with concern. Linna somehow managed to spin away from yet another attack, her razor-whips trailing behind and inflicting severe damage on the attacker. Planting her left hand, she swung into a two-footed kick that drove the boomer backwards over one of its allies. Nimbly returning to her feet, she prepared to strike again. "Linna!" she heard a frantic warning from Sylia as her threat-receiver blared in her ear. Spinning, she looked straight into the eyes of a charging 34-CX boomer. "No..." was her last thought before it drove its fist into her midsection. A blaze of energy flared... Linna's tortured scream was cut off by the sound of a muffled explosion. Gouts of blood and fire spurted from the joints of her hardsuit, and her body went limp as it was thrown backwards. Crashing to the ground, she lay still. "LINNA!" Priss screamed as she saw her friend fall. For half of a second, she stood, rooted to the ground by her disbelief. Then came the rage. Commanding the strength-enhancers to full, she physically tore through the boomers between her and Linna's killer. The flares of explosions and energy weapons flashed all around her, but she did not see them... she only saw one thing. Raising her arm cannon, she fired. One... two... seven shots she fired, emptying the magazine. The boomer simply exploded, raining parts on the battlefield, but Priss's anger was not satiated. Seeking out new targets, she smashed through boomers one by one, venting a berserker fury like none they had ever seen. Christine charged into the fray beside her, first using the pulse cannon, then going to her knife after the capacitor was empty. Hellbent on revenge, they demolished boomer after boomer until the entire battlefield lay at their feet. When it was over, Priss just slumped down against a building and cried. * * * * * * * * * The small cemetary was quiet... too quiet, Sylia thought, with only the sound of a light rain. Without Linna around, it seemed that none of them spoke much anymore. Gone was the laughing, the happiness, the light-hearted outlook that she had brought to the organization. Without a doubt, she would be more missed for that than for all her fighting skill. A little separated because of her wheelchair, she looked at the three young women there with her. Nene seemed to be in shock, as if the last vestiges of her shattered innocence fought to maintain their grasp on her, refusing to admit what had happened. With her family yet alive, she had never truly faced death before. It showed. Christine simply hung her head, hands stuffed in her pockets and wearing the expression of one all-too-familiar with death. Indeed, they were on her estate, not far from the gravesite of her lost love, and the fact was obvioiusly not lost on her. Priss, though, had taken it worst of all. The burden of command weighed heavily on her heart, and now, on her watch, Linna had paid the ultimate price. She bit down on her lower lip, trying and failing to suppress the emotional pain in the physical. Tears streamed down her face, and she bore the distinct look of one who feels responsible for a tragedy. Responsibility. If it lay in the hands of anyone, it lay in her own, Sylia thought. She had organized the Knight Sabers, had recruited Linna, and had encouraged her fighting ability. SHE had sent them into battle that fateful day. Linna, who had seemed almost untouchable, had fallen, and Sylia could not help but wonder if they were all doomed to that fate. Deep in her heart, she struggled with fatalism; The temptation to admit defeat was strong. Linna would not have accepted that, though. "My friends... my family," she spoke softly, and each of them looked up at her. "We are here to say goodbye to one of our own. Linna was... she was special, and she will be missed. Her laughter lifted all of our spirits, and her loyalty inspired us. I..." her voice broke, "will miss the warmth of her smile most of all." She tried to say more, but found that the words were not there. She bowed her head slightly, and whispered, "Farewell, Linna... until we meet again." Nene burst into tears, and Christine put her arm around her. "I... I don't know what to say. I'll miss being teased, even. It just... won't be the same." Turning, she buried her face in Christine's shoulder, crying softly and hugging her tightly. "I wish I had gotten to know you better, Linna," was all Christine could say. "I always thought I would have more time." At those words, she too began to cry. Hanging her head, she added, "Goodbye." There was a long silence after that. "Priss?" Sylia whispered, not sure whether she would want to say anything or not. Priss looked up, started to open her mouth, and then shook her head. "Very well," Sylia nodded. Taking one last, long look at the closed coffin, Priss sighed and turned to walk away. Only then did Sylia begin to cry. * * * * * * * * * Ordinarily Priss would have treasured the feeling of the wind against her as she throttled up her racing bike. She had never ridden this fast before, except for that one time chasing Gibson; she knew it could easily kill her, and she didn't care. Tears blurred her vision as she raced through the darkness, desperately trying to escape the pain and the guilt which haunted her. There was no escape, she realized, but nevertheless she sought solace in the night. Gunning the engine, she accelerated onto another highway at a speed which could only be considered insane. Cars blurred as she passed by them, but there was still no mistaking one... Police. "Damn... well, let's see if they can catch me," she thought. * * * * * * * * * Priss grumbled and sat down in her cell. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mentally chastised herself. "You're lucky to be alive." "You call that luck?" another voice in her head responded. "Oh, now THAT'S a really good--" the first voice started, then was cut off by a real one. "Someone's here to bail you out, Miss Asagiri. Come on." "Already?" she thought... "Who could have gotten here so quickly?" Her answer met her soon enough. "Leon," she muttered, though she honestly was not displeased to see him. "Why are YOU bailing me out?" "Nene said you could use a friend right now. Come on... I won't even try to get a date this time," he said, looking completely serious for what Priss guessed was the first time ever. Just maybe... "All right, let's go," she answered. * * * * * * * * * Nene locked the door to her apartment behind her, stripped off her AD Police uniform jacket, and collapsed onto the bed. She wasn't sure why she had decided to go to work, but it was a good thing she had. Priss needed someone to watch over her right now, before she got herself killed. No sense in losing two friends... She began to cry again at that thought. Linna. "Why?" she asked aloud, knowing that there was no good answer. They were the Knight Sabers; they placed their lives on the line each day. She had faced her own death before, had even come to terms with that possibility after her injury, but this she was unprepared for. To lose a friend--no, a sister--so suddenly, and without reason was just too much. Linna would have been able to help her through it... if she were there. No matter what happened, she always seemed to find the best side of things. That wouldn't happen this time. Sylia, Priss, Christine... each of them had worse pain than she to battle, and couldn't help her. Truthfully, she realized, she had nowhere to turn. * * * * * * * * * Christine lay on her bed, the room totally dark. She could not sleep; the nightmares would not allow it. Spectres of death haunted her--her parents, James, now Linna. Why did it seem that whenever she started to appreciate someone they were taken away? Bitterness crept into her spirit, poisoning her soul. Death was inevitable... why fight it? "No." she answered herself aloud. "I WILL NOT give up." To quit now would be to dishonor the very sacrifices James and Linna had made, and countless others besides. She would fight to the end, to the bitter end if need be. * * * * * * * * * Sylia Stingray did not cry often, but that night there was no end to the tears. One of her own, one of her children, had fallen--had died, and the pain pressed in on her from all sides. She had known this day would come; she had known it from the beginning. Even as she had recruited her Knight Sabers, she knew that she would lose one eventually. Years had passed, and she should have been prepared by now, but nothing could prepare her for this. Linna's scream echoed in her mind... the sight of her charred hardsuit, bloodstained at the joints, consumed her vision. They had not even dared to open the suit, for it was doubtful that much was left inside; they had buried her in her armor. Perhaps if she had worked faster, if she had completed the new hardsuits sooner, Linna might have been saved. If she had been quicker with her warning... but no. She was lost, and could not be recalled. Only her memory remained. Memory. The smiles, the teasing of Nene, the quiet but strong support in time of crisis. The anger which burned silently in her eyes at the death of Irene. Her insistence that Vision not throw away her life and her talent, the chance she herself never had. The perfection of her technique and the art with which she did battle. Linna. The tears flowed. * * * * * * * * * Priss and Leon stood silently in the rain, staring at Linna's grave. Priss had so much that she wanted to say... so many words. She had failed her friend--probably her only true friend--and now that friend was lost. She blinked back tears, trying desperately not to break down and cry again. "Forgive me, Linna," she whispered. Leon stood back from her, wanting to lend her support but fearful that she would interperet it wrongly. "She's so afraid to let anyone close to her," he thought. "Why?" The answer to that question was complex, and was the first thing on Priss's mind. First her family, then her fiancÇ. Next came Sylvie and Anri. Now Linna. Everyone who she let in to her heart died, without exception. Was the only way to be safe to shut everyone out? She could not, would not believe that... but it seemed so true. Besides, she asked herself, where could she turn now? The other Knight Sabers had their own pain to deal with; they didn't need hers, too. She had nobody else who really cared about her; she was alone. She needed someplace--no, someone-- to run to, and she had nothing. It was then that Leon spoke. Softly, timidly, he asked, "Is there any way I can help you?" "N--" she instinctively went on the defensive, then stopped herself. "Yes," she said weakly, making herself form the words, "Hold me." * * * * * * * * * Sylia awoke the next morning to find a message on her computer. Sylia, I cannot do this anymore. Not now. I hope to return, when I am ready. Priss PS. Tell Nene I said thank you. ************* END PART TWO *************