MegaTokyo 2034
Renewal 
   A BGC Fanfiction
by Deunan (deunan@aol.com)
and Kaintskr (kaintskr@aol.com)

Note:  This is the next fic in the series of fanfics that includes: 
 Face-To-Face, Patience, Of Victory and Failure 

Those and other fics can be found at:
http://members.aol.com/deunan/index.htm
or you can email a request to deunan@aol.com 

Part One: (All times realitive to the last events of Of Victory and Failure)  

THE NEXT MORNING:

	Mackie awoke slowly basking in the warmth of the embrace. A slight sigh
escaped his lips in contentment at the feeling.  His eyes opened to see the
face. "So beautiful," he whispered brushing his finger tips across her cheek.
Nene rolled over in her sleep now facing away from him.  
	"Don't leave me, Mackie. Please don't," she cried out, like a lost child,
caught in the midst of a dream. He wiggled over to her whispering into her
ear.
	"I'll never leave you." Then he kissed her forehead. She murmured something
incomprehensible and relaxed once more falling out of the dream into a deeper
sleep. It was a lie. He slipped out of the bed grabbing his clothes. He took
one last look at the sleeping women as he pulled on his clothing quietly and
entered the elevator.  Within moments he was back in the basement.
	His power armor stood were he left it last night. Nene's  hardsuit still lay
in the open locker. The ammunition and weapon boxes were still open; the two
interface 'soft' suits lay piled on the floor. He left the basement and into
the garage section.  In one corner lay a large object covered by a drab gray
tarpaulin.  He pulled it off reveling the gray and red painted battlemover.  
	It was fully repaired from its battle with the Knight Sabers .  The  vulcan
cannon was replaced, and the J-1 system was totally restored. -Even if I die,
I'll still win.- He told himself grimly. With the micro-neutron bomb, he'd be
able to do what his sister did not, destroy Genom. The megacorporation would
be destroyed in one single Earth shattering blow. With the battlemover, he
could battle his way into the very heart of the tower and detonate the bomb
vaporizing the insides and having the blast would be contained in the massive
arcology.  
	He never fully understood the rage and fury that had taken over his sister's
life when their father died. He had been too young and too naive.  Now,he
understood all too well. It had taken his sister's death  for him to gain
realization. He closed his eyes feeling the raw emotions stirring inside him.
So powerful, they rivaled the raw energy pulsating within the nuclear device
tucked in the DD battlemover.  
	He was a monster. The massacre he had inflicted the previous night had proved
it. The news reported over one hundred dead. Those  deaths were so abstract to
him, they weighed nothing on his  conscience, and that cold indifference
terrified him. Only one thing held him back.   -Nene.-  
	Last night they bonded, a joining of the souls in an act that was both
pleasure and pain rolled into one. Last night, he said that he would stay with
her. He said the same thing only moments earlier. He looked up at the open
cockpit of the battlemover. -It would be so easy. I can pilot it; the systems
were what I modeled my own armor on. Then why is it so hard to climb in? The
good of the many over the good of the few, like sis had always said.- He
reached up to pull himself in and stopped tears welling in his eyes. Two sides
of him battled onward.
	-I want to live!- one side cried remembering his lovemaking with Nene.  
	-I can't let her die unavenged!- the other screamed remembering the blasted
crater where his sister's hardsuit had self destructed to buy the time Nene,
Linna, and Priss needed to escape to the Sky Carrier.  He collapsed to his
knees hugging himself tightly as the maelstrom of emotions wracked his body.  
	He sat there, in front of the gray and red battlemover, for a time. Fighting
to find a center, a balance between the conflict within. Then, he recalled a
day long ago. The memory was so dim it seemed almost like the images of a half
remembered dream.  
	Sylia was holding him gently rocking him in his arms and humming to him in an
effort to comfort his grief stricken heart. Their father had just died. He
remembered the pain, the loss, and the feeling of emptiness that would die
only in time.  
	No, he couldn't inflict that pain on some many others, wives, spouses,
lovers...  If he did, then he would be doing Sylia a greater injustice than
leaving her unavenged. He rose tossing the tarpaulin back over the battlemover
and walked to the garage door opening it up. He caught a glimpse of the sun
rising over the horizon. -Sylia, I'll take up your weapons and fight Genom.
I'll avenge your death, but I'm not going to let it destroy me in the
process.- He closed the garage door and made his way back up into the
penthouse.  Sylia would be proud.  
	Carefully, he entered the warm bed and lay his head on Nene's shoulder. She
awoke slowly, conforted by his presense.  
	"Mackie,"  She breathed, "I love you."  He kissed the nape of her neck.  
	"I love you, too."		
			*		*		*
TWO DAYS LATER

	
	The darkness, the frequent glow of the overhead lights, it seemed so
deceptively calm and peaceful. She gunned the throttle.  The wind howled
around her as the Rpm's almost redlined.  The headlights of an oncoming car
emerged from the darkness blinding her for a moment....
	::She put her hand up to ward off the blinding headlights that were
illuminating the entire area.  She clutched her side feeling the effects of
the partial 'road rash'.  A single female figure climbed out of the car.  
	The women was dressed in a business suit and a pair of dark shades. Priss
rose quickly whipping out her knife coming at the women with an overhead
strike. She didn't even see her move and found herself in an arm lock face
pressed against the hood of the car.  The knife was in the women's hands.
	"You got the passion, and the purpose but you need to focus or they will eat
you alive...,"  The women said sharply.  She tried to struggled only to feel
the pressure on her arm increase.
	"At least give me the dignity you gave, Hiro. I hope all you bastards rot in
hell!" She cursed, seeing the bloody motorcycle wreck in her mind's eyes. She
couldn't believe her ears; the woman was actually chuckling.
	"You've mistaken me, Ms. Asgiri, for someone else...."::  
	
	Priss blinked out the blinding effects of the glare and pulled off  onto the
shoulder, a ridge overlooking the city.
	-What did you see in a me? I was nothing just a b-class loser in a crappy
town full of them. You said I had passion and purpose...where the fuck has it
got me now?- She rolled up the sleeve of her riding leathers seeing the old
wounds that adorned her arm. There were dozens like them
across her entire body. -Lovers...friends...- Her gaze shifted to the massive
tower rising above the horizon even in darkness. "I WON'T LET YOU TAKE THEM
ANYMORE, GODDAMN YOU!!!" The rage welled up flowing over her climaxing in one
animalistic cry. She collapsed to the ground feeling completely spent,
emotionally and physically.
	-Is that what you loved...the passion, that uncontrollable force? I admired
you, you know. You were so much better than I was: calm, controlled,
everything I wasn't.-  She pulled herself into a sitting 
position against the bike.
	"Love," she murmured trying to remember what if felt like.  It had been so
long. -But love, Sylia? Why couldn't you have told me? At least  you would've
given me a chance. At least you could've let yourself be human....What were
you so afraid of?-   
	The painful feeling swirled in her stomach creeping to her chest, guilt.
"Where the fuck has that passion got me?" She repeated feeling the cold
stabbing feeling. -It got you killed, Sylia. Its my fault....- But the
hollowness wasn't there with the pain.  It was almost as if she'd been turned
around... A part of her wanted to feel the pain to take in all the anguish,
yet another part of herself was being gnawed by doubts. 
	 Her eyes fell onto her arm seeing a long healed scar on her wrist, then her
hand touched the tender spot of the puncture wound on her stomach, and her
fingers brushed a tear from her eyes.
	A cycle of pain and loss... -They all saved me for a reason.-  She rose off
the ground and closed her eyes feeling the weariness and pain of the old
wounds. -I guess they're all telling me something.-
	"Its time I lived my life the right way." As she straddled her bike starting
it up, she took a glance at the tower rising oppressively in the distance. One
day, she vowed, she wouldn't have to see it towering over the city.
	
	
			*		*		*
THREE DAYS LATER

	The cardkey was swallowed up by the reader. It seemed forever before the
reader confirmed her identity letting her into the basement. Scanning the room
and seeing no one present, she entered.  
	Weapons and all manner of ammo were scattered all around the room and the
hanger outside. Mackie had evidently started to plan some sort of assault. She
spied a 9mm already loaded and quickly snatched it up.  Hugging it to her
chest, she entered the elevator.  Her heart quickening the whole time in both
fatigue and anticipation.  Her breathing became ragged as the body registered
its weakness.  
	She was so weary.  Weary of the battles and the dying. 
::Irene's  lifeless body hit the ground with a hollow thud blood running onto
the  pavement.... "You heartless mercenary bitch!! All you care about is the
money!!!" Priss screamed.::
	It seemed like eons along the last time she had enjoyed a full nights sleep.
Peaceful sleep with the nightmares. No, she couldn't sleep; the  nightmares
would come then the voices repeating over and over. ::Coward:: they said over
and over. Screaming in pain, she clutched her head letting the gun drop.  
	"Stop, oh please make it stop," she whimpered in mental agony tears running
down her face. The elevator reached the roof top, and the pain faded away.  
	-It's so beautiful- Linna told herself as she watched the sunset. It  had
been 3 days since Sylia's death and she still couldn't sleep without  seeing
the explosion. -Or the voices-  ::Coward::. The words tore through her.
Priss' bitter anguished screams as she pulled her back into the waiting 
plane mixed with the Irene's body being dumped onto the road.  All her pain
rolling into one maelstrom of bitter anguish.
	She tried to keep the pain and tears inside, like all the pain she  had gone
through over the years, but couldn't. -At least this time, I can  make it go
away- She told herself as she pulled out the gun. It felt almost  comforting
to feel it's cold surface on her face as she rubbed the muzzle up
against her cheek. ::Coward:: She shuddered at the voice of someone who had
lost all reason to live. -I hope this makes up for my mistake.- She placed the
barrel softly against her temple.  She started to squeeze the trigger.   Only
have the gun snatched from her grasp.
	"Why?"  Priss snarled as she pulled out the magazine and ejecting the shell
in the chamber. "After all she went through to keep all of us alive?"  Guilt
was the first thing that crossed her mind, but it was washed away in a rush of
frustration and anger.
	"I could have saved her, Priss."
	"No you couldn't have."
	"My hardsuit was still functional, and I had the speed..."
	"The suit was marginally functional..."
	"I could have done it ..."
	"Against dozens of intact boomers with no backup? You're fast Linna,  but you
can't out run lasers."  
	"I could've saved her!"
	"No, you couldn't have."
	Linna screamed in wild outrage and lashed out with a kick. The blow struck
Priss in her upper leg. Her bones screamed in agony at the pain.  The pain
drove Priss to her knees. Priss looked up grasping her leg, into  Linna's eyes
seeing the rage and guilt. A look she held many times before in the mirror.
She hurled the gun off the roof.
	Linna watched in morbid fascination as gun flew over the edge into the
darkness. -So much for the quick and painless way out.- She took a step closer
to the edge of the roof. -Maybe I don't deserve it to be easy.-
	"Linna,... I was wrong, It wasn't your fault..."
	"Yes, it was! I could have saved her. I was fast enough, but I was..  afraid,
oh god, I was so afraid."  She remembered the pulse pounding fear that drove
her.   
	-Linna what about!!-
	-You heard her, run damnit, don't turn back-
	-INCOMING!!!-
	" Please come down. If you jump, it will be my fault," her voice dropped down
to a husky whisper, "just like Sylia's was...."  The elevator door opened once
more, Mackie and Nene ran out.
	"Linna!"
	"No!"
	Linna looked around her, seeing things as if for the first time. She had
always felt that she was the stranger in the group, looking in from the
outside. Alone and never truly belonging. Now she had a family, she had
always had it, just never realizing it till now.
	Mackie saw them all, the pain, the suffering. He looked around the collected
survivors for a time before finding the right words to say what he felt was
needed. "Sis did what any of us would have done, I..." tears started to flow
but he pushed on, " I know that her death hurt us all, but would have any of
us done it any different in her place?"
	For long minutes, they stood there silent as they all considered the answer
to that question. They all knew the answer, without a second's  hesitation.
They would go quietly without a second thought to save the others . It didn't
make the loss any less painful, but it helped convey the depths of Sylia's
unspoken feelings for them. 
	And Linna stepped off the edge still haunted by her own demons but never
alone.  She had a family; she had hope.
			*		*		*  

PART TWO:  A Year later

	The camera lens magnified and adjusted the image beaming a near  perfect
image to the small screen.  She saw them. "So close," she murmured brushing
her fingertips across the double screen. Mackie and Nene walked down the
street hand in hand while Linna was casually was grocery shopping.   The dull
pain began to work into her breast once more. "Cut off surveillance. Return
home," she commanded.  The two boomers cut the video link and began their
journey back to the tower.  
	-Why do I do this to myself?- Sylia leaned her head back against the headrest
of the padded chair.  On her desk lay hand written reports of the various,
trusted, spies monitoring the Knight Sabers.  Even through a second hand
perspective, the pain, the loneliness, were still there.  Then the icy hand of
guilt would follow.  
	-Would they understand?- The voice of her mind asked once again. Did they
know the cold rage that consumed her?  Would they understand the knowledge
that they were the only ones that could stop Genom?  Could they ever know
weariness and the pain that threatened to overwhelm her every  single day she
began her battle with Genom?
	-No, they can't. That's why you did it. That's why you can never tell them.-
"That's why, I'll be ever alone," she murmured.  She hurt them all.  
	Mackie was almost unrecognizable. A haunted expression lay in his eyes.  
	Nene had hardened herself and seemed to carry the burden of healing the
others herself. More often that not, taking their pain for her own. 
	Linna... -Forgive me- was forever scared. Her once indomitable spirit had
been shattered. Even a year later, she was still picking up the pieces.
	And Priss...the fire of vengeance had tempered her, she had renewed herself
with her anger, refining it to a razor's edge.  A cold forbidding look lay
across her visage.  
	-I am beyond forgiveness....- An ironic feeling past through her.  She had
hide her feelings so well for so very long even know she wished she could cry
to let the pain flow from her.
	"Ms. Stingray,"  A familiar feminine voice called entering the massive
office.  "We may have a problem."  Sylia welcomed the interruption from her
thoughts.  
	"Yes, Katherine?"  Madigan was an unexpected...bonus of her victory over
Quincy.  The lavender haired women sat across from her opening a manila folder
onto the desk.  A photo of a middle aged man stuck out prominently. 
"William Bane, heads up a chemical processing plant in South America.  He
knows something is wrong about the planning group," Madigan refered to the
cabal of executives, once headed by Quincy, that truly ran Genom's..special
pet projects. "-is increasing his popularity with the people. If he disappears
or is arrested, public opinion would bail him out. He's digging in deep."
	She took no notice of Madigan's words caught up in her own thoughts.  With
the information from Quincy's personal files, the members of the planning
group fell from power or disappeared one by one save Madigan. The woman seemed
more that eager to eliminate her rivals and consolidate her own powerbase. It
was an ackward arrangement, but a highly profitable one for  both sides.  
	"Use whatever means necessary to deal with the problem," she replied. Madigan
left and went to deal with the chemical plant executive/drug dealer.   
	He would be dead before morning. It would most likely look like an accident.
-Has it become so easy to kill?- Genom's pet projects and illegal operations
had to be stopped.  Many police agencies around the globe were given leaked
information. In other cases the Knight Sabers, guided by her unseen hand
through Fargo and other fixers, were be sufficient. More times than not,
Quincy's cadre of assassins were needed. There was no choice.    
  	-Justice cried out for them.- The voice replied. So many had died. If not
by her own hand but by her will.  	
	-Justice, the good of the many over the few...- The voice replied. It seemed
so weak and unconvincing.  She rose and looked out over the city. 
	Wearily, she rested her forehead against the cool glass.  It seemed like an
eternity ago when she could settle conflicts by donning a hardsuit. -I won.
But at what cost? Have I lost my soul, my humanity?....I am so  tired of it
all.-  
	Now most of the dark evils that Quincy had left behind were gone, but there
were still a lot of problems. The thing was the ones that were left existed in
shades of gray, things not quite evil or good, but with measures of both.
Corporate expansion, weapons trade....so many more.  They were 
the ones which gave her the hardest time. The shades of gray, balancing
benefits against the impact on humanity were wearing her down. It was here
that Madigan and her argued the most.  
	She ran her finger down the ridge of scar tissue on her shoulder, a reminder
of how close Fargo's shot had come to really killing her. The s-shaped scar
seemed to be a dragon cut in her skin. She caught herself lingering over the
thin scar beneath it, where ..  - Don't  think about it Sylia.- She forced her
thoughts onto other things.  Her hand reached into her pocket. She turned
leaning her back against the glass holding up an object she acquired a year
ago. It was from an antique shop...or she found it lying in the old ruins of
Tokyo...a dozen scenes played out in her mind's eye but, for the life of her,
she couldn't remember which one was true.  It seemed so long ago...  
	It was a gold necklace with a unicorn shaped charm. The light seemed to
twinkle of the dangling unicorn. She had bought it for Priss, the singer had a
secret passion for unicorns. Her birthday was in a couple of weeks.  -The dead
don't give gifts.-  It had been an impulsive move.  
	She betrayed the Knight Sabers because the needs of the few were outweighed
by the many and for justice.  All the questions were answered, save one.  
	::I love you.:: She had mouthed those words to Priss, one year ago. -Why?
What was I thinking?- She slammed a fist on the meter thick window in
frustration. There was no logical reason, no explanation that would allow her
to rest at night. Nothing to keep the vision of those red eyes so full of
passion and life away from her dreams. 
	She had hidden her feelings so long, what had made her drop her guard?  Priss
didn't sense anything from her. She never did see the stolen glances or the
silent observation.  She had no reason to tell. -I'm torturing myself. I can't
go on like this...- Sylia stepped away from the desk and took her overcoat.
She left the tower, alone.
			*		*		*
	
	From the shadows she watched.  Priss was so beautiful. The music mixing with
the lights, the frenzied shouting of the fans, the raw emotions  pulsing in
rhythm with the songs, gave an almost surreal feeling to the scene. Priss
looked unchanged, her body haloed by the stage lights. She could see the only
changes in her eyes. The once raw unharnessed look in her eyes was replaced
with one more focused . -She has a purpose now. Thanks to my "death".- Sylia
mused ironically.  
	A flicker of light caught her eye. She looked up meeting Priss's eyes for a
single moment...  Sylia retreated farther into the shadows. It was where she
belonged.  -A simple trick of the light and my own imagination.- There was no
way Priss could have seen her. 
	Sylia closed her eyes letting the songs flow over her to feel the emotions
flowing through the lyrics. The words seemed to weave and  overlap....  
		'Searching for the whereabouts of my interrupted dream...'
		'...You, angel fallen to earth, live here and now'
		for the sake of tomorrow.'
		'They say cool stares are more tender than sympathy
		'My heart flutters; I can hear its beat'
		'...why not seriously let out the emotions that you embrace.'
		'Because we are born to be happy.'
	
	Then the songs stopped. The lights died down, and the crowd calmed. Startled,
she shook herself from the trance that had overtaken her. She looked down at
her fist. The necklace was clutched in her hands, held with all the desperate
strength of a life line. She looked down at it.  The  die was cast. Carefully,
she worked through the crowds towards the back of the stage. And she stood
before the dressing room door.  
	She raised her fist and pulled back slightly to knock. It stopped before
contact. Her eyes closed remembering the nightmares. Priss would strike her,
screaming betrayal, cursing her. Damning her cause...damning her. And scorning
her heart.  It was a pain that cut like a razor and twisting like a dagger.
	Her resolve failed her. She turned to leave. -I am alone. I belong that way.-
She hugged herself to warm the cold feeling in her breast. The door opened
silently behind her. Two arms hugged her tightly from behind driving away the
coldness in her heart. She tried to struggle...tried to
fight back but her instincts failed even before they could act.  
	She turned in the embrace looking up into those soft red eyes.  
	"Priss...," she struggled with the words, but shame kept her from speaking.
Their foreheads rested against each other gently.
	"I knew you weren't dead." Priss whispered, holding her tight. The shield of
ice shattered from around her heart.  
	"Priss, I...," The explanation died on her lips. Tears rolled down her face
as the sobs wracked her body. Guilt, happiness, pain, joy,  shock...emotions
pulled on her soul tearing in all directions.  
	"It's all right..Sylia..its all right." Priss murmured humming a soothing
tune.
	She wasn't alone anymore.         

END

Author's notes.
The lyrics come from:

Konya wa Hurricane
Bara No Soldier
Mad Machine
Kodoku No Angel
Let's Dance
Asu E Touchdown

respectivly. 

	
The exact events of the night Sylia "died",  Fargo's involvement, Katherine
Madigan's arrangement with Sylia are all going to be dealt with in the
next installment: DEBTS (to be released...a long time from now)