Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Black Knights, Steel Hearts ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

BUBBLEGUM CRUCIBLE: A Timeline of the Knight Sabers

Black Knights, Steel Hearts: Chapters 1
A Bubble Gum Crucible fanfic - First in the Series
By Craig A. Reed Jr. (trboturtle@aol.com)

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The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted by
Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little
while for non-monetary reasons. I can be contacted at the Email address above.
Serious C&C will be accepted, out-and-out flames will result in a Boomer
or two being sent after you, once they get around to building them.

Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . .

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Pa rt 1 - Opening

Chapter 1


Manhattan Island
MegaNew York, NY, USA
Thursday, December 20, 2035
1:22am EDST

The snow had been falling for several hours now, and there was speculation that this could be the first white Christmas the city had seen in two decades. There were few people walking the streets tonight, but even the snow couldn't entirely halt the business of the city, legal or illegal.

The Fairline Hotel was an unremarkable building on the lower west side of Manhattan Island. Its short, squat shape was an unusual sight in modern day Mega-New York, given the city's drive to be as modern as MegaTokyo. Built during the late 1990's, the hotel had managed to stay a moderately priced establishment, despite all that happened around it.

Right now, the district was in the middle of a major building boom. Five skyscrapers were being built in the lots around the hotel. Three were well under way, while the other two were barely more then steel structures rising in the cold night air. With the exception of the occasional security guard, the construction sites were usually deserted.

But not tonight.

From the safety of one of those half-built skyscrapers, a shadowy figure watched the main entrance of the Fairline Hotel. The few times it did move, it seemed to move less smoothly then a human, accompanied by small mechanical sounds.

The hardsuit was burnished black, with dark gold highlights. A small insignia, that of a black knight's head on a gold shield on the hardsuit's right breast, was the only identification. The suit itself didn't have the massive bulk of most military hardsuits. The military would have loved to have one in their arsenal, had they known of its existence, but the hardsuit's occupant didn't dare give them one.

Greg continued to watch the main entrance below, his helmet's optical at full magnification. I don't like this, he thought. I should have waited for better Intel.

He keyed his commline. "Knight One to all Knights, status reports."

"Blue Leader is standing by." Harland's voice sounded tense, expectant. "No activity at the side door."

"Blue Two reporting. Trade entrance is silent."

"Blue Three here. The parking garage is silent."

"White Leader reporting." Fran's voice was cooler then Harland's, but even she had some tension. "No unusual traffic on Holman or 34th."

"White Two reporting. I have a suspicious vehicle heading toward the Hotel on Jackson Avenue."

Greg frowned. He keyed his mike. "White Two, what type of vehicle?"

"A tractor trailer."

Greg frowned. There were no markets or warehouses near here. "Distance from the hotel?"

"Three clicks, and closing."

"White Two, Keep an eye on it. White Leader, you and White Three move to secondary positions to support White Two, just in case he has to stop the truck from coming through."

"Understood Knight One. White Leader out."

"Understood. White Two, out."

A new voice broke in "Red Three to Knight One." If Fran's voice was cool, Marla's was glacier in tone. "I have movement at the main entrance."

Greg looked at the magnified image of the small knot of people emerging from the hotel lobby. There were five of them, three large men, a woman as tall as the men, and a young girl. The two women stayed in the middle of the men, while the trio scanned the surrounding area with chilling proficiency. The type of proficiency that can only be found in Boomers.

"Blue Three to Knight One. I have three cars exiting the parking garage, moving to the front door of the hotel."

"Understood, Blue Three. Hold current position." He keyed the mike to a different channel. "Red Four, analysis?"

Two floors below, another hardsuited figure carefully scanned the quintet below. Nicky's voice sounded distracted, probably because he was operating sophisticated scanning equipment. "I have three BU-55C's confirmed, designated as Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma." The three men in Greg's visor suddenly had icons next to their images. "One probable C-series female Boomer, designated as Target Able." A different icon flashed into life near one of the women. "The last target is confirmed as main objective. She looks scared."

Greg thought for a minute. It has to be now. We can't wait any longer. "Red Team, form up on me. We'll take the Boomers head on. Blue Team, stand by to move and secure the objective. White Team, stop that tractor trailer. We move in five seconds. Red Four, start jamming as we move."

By now, the three cars had pulled up in front of the hotel. The small group of Boomers moved as one toward them. Greg straightened, glanced at the hardsuit's readouts and shouted, "Red Team, Go!"

He stepped off the platform into the air. For a fraction of a second, he fell toward the street. The thrusters then kicked in, not enough to completely arrest his sudden decent, but it was just enough to slow him. He felt more then saw the other members of Red Team descending with him.

Below him, he saw several heads snap up to watch their decent. The car doors opened, three more men stepped out as one, and looked up.

Greg cursed under his breath. He should have taken in account the drivers were probably also Boomers. As he watched, the visor added new icons to the three new people. They were marked as targets Delta, Epsilon, and Kappa. More Boomers.

"Red Team, engage Targets Delta, Epsilon, and Kappa. Blue Team, move in and take out Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma."

He was four stories above the ground now, and the Boomers were beginning to move, tearing away their human disguises, and preparing to open fire at them. The female Boomer grabbed the girl and pulled her back into the safety of the hotel's lobby.

"Starting ECM, burnthrough in one-five seconds."

It would be a temporary advantage at best. He aimed his right arm at his target. "I have Target Delta." A flash of steel erupted from the rail gun in his hardsuit's right arm. The wave of steel spikes, each as long and thick as a finger, punched deep onto the Boomer's armor.

It staggered under the assault, then opened fire with its mouth laser. Greg twisted to the right, and the bolt of light shot past him, and into a steel support beam of the half-completed building behind him.

The sound of a minigun firing was heard over the commline as another voice broke in. "Red Two here, I have Epsilon."

The Boomer designated as Epsilon exploded as the heavy 20mm shells shattered its armor. The car next to the Boomer also detonated, turning the night sky into daylight, as well as wrecking the other two cars. Through the flames, Greg saw the running figures of Blue Team advancing toward the first three Boomers.

"Burnthrough in ten seconds," said the voice of Red Four, his voice unnaturally calm in the heat of battle. "All Knights, I'm picking up burst transmissions from Target Gamma. High frequency, and very short."

As Greg landed on the snow-covered sidewalk, he heard White Leader shout over the common channel, "All Knights! That tractor trailer has released five - no, SIX BU-12C Combat Boomers, and they're on an attack vector for your location. ETA, thirty seconds."

"Can you delay them any, White Leader?" asked Greg, dodging to his left as the Boomer designated Delta fired another blast at him with its mouth laser.

"We can try, Knight One. But we're outnumbered and outgunned here."

Greg snarled a curse and fired at the Boomer with his railgun again. The spikes struck low and hard, shearing the Boomer's right leg off at the knee. As the Boomer fell, Greg launched himself at it. The monoblade housed in his hardsuit's left arm slid out of its sheath and locked into place.

The blade came down hard and fast, separating the Boomer's head from its body. Greg spun to meet the next attack, but there was none. He saw the remains of two other Boomers scattered among the three wrecked cars. "All Knights, Status reports."

"Blue Leader here. Target Able has retreated inside the hotel with the main target. Targets Alpha, Beta, and Gamma have been eliminated."

"White Leader reporting." The sounds of explosions in background made her voice hard to hear. "White Three is down, and we're under heavy pressure here. One Boomer is damaged, but we can't hold them back much longer."

Damn. Turning his head, he looked in the direction of White Team's location, and saw the explosions and laser traces three blocks away. The entire mission had turned into his worst nightmare. He couldn't leave White Team to fight that large a number of Boomers, and he didn't have the time to search the entire hotel for the Boomer and the girl. "All Knights, abort the mission. I repeat, abort the mission."

Greg heard several sharp intakes of air from the other Knights. He ignored it. He had to.His people came first. "Blue Team, fall back to rally point FOXTROT. Red Team, form up on me. We're going after White Team."

The glow of the thrusters added more light to the night air as the three members of Blue Team moved away to the rally point. The other three members of Red Team joined their leader. Greg looked at each of them. He couldn't see their faces, but he knew them well. All the Knights were his friends, but these three were his family. "Let's do it, people."

With that, he turned toward the battle in the distance and launched himself into the air. The thrusters kicked in, and he charged into battle, the rest of Red Team behind him.

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MALCORP Headquarters,
Philadelphia, Pa. USA
December 20, 2035
9:12am EST

MALCORP headquarters occupied the entire space of a forty-story tower not far from the historical Independence Hall. Looking like a thin needle, the tower stood out among the other skyscrapers in the city's skyline, an elegant combination of glass, steel, and concrete. Unlike some of the other corporate headquarters, MALCORP was decked out in the colors of the seasons, giving the building the appearance of an overgrown Christmas tree

Gregory Mallory ignored the building's appearance as he climbed the steps to the main entrance. A small pack of bodyguards was formed in a loose circle around their boss, their searching gaze watching everything around them. The few people around the front entrance gave the group a wide area of clear space around them. Despite the holiday season, no one wanted to get caught in a crossfire should someone try to take out the chairman and CEO of MALCORP on his own front steps.

Not that Mallory looked like an easy target. He was tall and lean, and moved with an easy grace. His features were a bit too sharp to be called handsome, with dark hair cut short and combed away from his face. The most striking feature was his eyes - one was green blue in color, the other steel gray - they demanded eye contact when he looked at someone.

He looked absurdly young to be in such a position of responsibly. But even his worse critics admitted that under Mallory, MALCORP was emerging as a leader in several fields. Military weapons, medicine, and computers were their strong suits, but they were widely regarded in several other fields.

The group passed through the front doors without incident. Inside the lobby, they were met by Marla Brooks-Fenton, Mallory's personal assistant. She slipped though the circle of bodyguards with practiced ease, always careful not to shield a bodyguard's view or gun hand. She fell into step with Mallory as the group marched across the lobby.

"What is it?" Mallory asked tiredly. The plane ride back from New York hadn't been pleasant, and he'd gotten only three hours of sleep.

Brooks-Fenton was a slim, attractive woman with shoulder length red hair and bright green eyes. She wore a subdued business suit, and a compact headset with a microphone. "Sir," she said causally, showing none of the effects of the same plane ride. "There have been some developments in the VanDell matter." She handed him a sheet of folded paper.

He unfolded the paper, glanced at it, then refolded the paper, and handed back to Brooks-Fenton. "I want Mr. Grace and Miss Acreman in my office as soon as possible."

Brooks-Fenton spoke into the microphone, then said to Mallory, "They will be here shortly."

"What is Mr. Chang's condition?"

"The Doctors think he will lose that arm."

"Damn. When he's recovered, I want him given an A1 priority for a cyberlimb replacement."

"Already done, Sir."

Mallory gave her a tired smile. "You are a treasure, Marla."

"I try to be, Sir."

The ride up on the elevator was made in silence. Once the elevator doors opened, the bodyguards separated to their assigned positions. Mallory, Brooks Fenton, and the two largest bodyguards made their way to Mallory's office at the far end of the hall. As they approached, the large twin doors opened silently.

Mallory strode into his office, followed by Brooks-Fenton. The large double doors closed, leaving the bodyguards outside. The office was a modest sized affair, considering its occupant, but it was well furnished with all the amenities any CEO would want or need.

Greg stood and stared out the large window behind his desk. Brooks-Fenton sat in a chair next to Mallory's desk, and waited.

"Are you sure of the source?" he asked quietly, still staring out of the window.

"Yes Sir. They were spotted boarding the plane by one of our agents. It was a direct flight."

"Directly to MegaTokyo."

"Yes Sir."

"And of course, MegaTokyo is now GENOM owned. Lock, stock, and barrel."

"Almost accurate, Sir."

"And if we go after her, we end up fighting on GENOM's home turf." He turned to face her. "What are our assets in MegaTokyo?"

Brooks-Fenton glanced down at a small notepad. "We have a small regional office there, a pharmaceutical research and manufacturing center, two smaller manufacturing plants, and several parcels of real estate currently not in use. A total of seven hundred sixty-two people on our direct payroll, of which thirty are suitable for black ops. Another twenty-five freelancers we can rely on."

"Agents inside GENOM?"

"Three. None higher then mid-level management. All in nonsensitive areas."

Mallory sat in his chair, and stretched. "Send a message to the regional office there. I want the top ten freelancers on our list out on the street searching for Janie ASAP. I want them to have a full description of her, but for God's sake, don't tell them the real reason why she's been taken. Let the freelancers know this is going to be dangerous. Double their usual rate, triple it if they object. Also, authorize a five-hundred-thousand-yen bonus if they actually find her.

"Call the airport, and have my plane ready for flight. We'll have to stop over in Los Angles, but I want to be in MegaTokyo by this time tomorrow."

Brooks-Fenton looked at him in surprise. "We're going to MegaTokyo?"

"I haven't been there in fifteen years. Besides, do we have another choice?"

"There is a Mercenary group already in MegaTokyo that could do the job. Their hardsuits are advanced models, plus they know the city."

"The Knight Sabers?" Mallory shook his head. "I want - no, I NEED to do this. If our opponent thinks The Black Knights are going to let this one go by, they're seriously mistaken."

There was a knock at the door. One of his bodyguards opened the door, and stuck his head in. "Mr. Grace and Miss Acreman are here, Sir."

"Send them in, Remus." He looked at Brooks-Fenton. "Get those items taken care of now."

Brooks-Fenton nodded slowly and stood. "Yes Sir. I'll get on these right away." She nodded to the two visitors just entering, and left.

"Take a seat, both of you," said Mallory. He waited until they had both made themselves comfortable before he continued. "Last night was not a very good night for the Black Knights, was it?"

"No Sir," replied Harland Grace, Leader of the Knight's Blue Team. He was medium height, heavy build, with hard features. An ex-solider, he was one of the original Knights. "In fact, it was a megaclusterfrack."

Mallory nodded. "The Combat Boomers was a nasty shock. We're lucky none of us got killed." He turned to Acreman. "I'm sorry to do this, Fran. But I'm standing down White Team, effective immediately."

Francine Acreman nodded slowly. She was taller, thinner, and less abrasive then Grace. "I'll have my resignation on your desk by noon today."

"I don't want your resignation, Fran," replied Mallory sharply.

"But I failed to hold the Boomers long enough for you to rescue Janie. Because of that, the mission was a failure."

"If there's anyone at fault, it's me," said Mallory. "It was my decision to order the strike without full intelligence. I was the one who seriously underestimated our opponent's security measures in this matter. It would have taken all three teams to take that Boomer squad out, and probably would have cost us plenty in casualties. You did well to slow them until Red Team arrived to cover your withdrawal."

Mallory leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Acreman's face. "White Team is still yours. That hasn't change. But between Chang's injuries, Karson looking like one huge walking bruise, and having to literally pry you out of your hardsuit, White Team is just not ready for deployment."

Acreman nodded, looking more relaxed. "What do you want us to do?"

"First, You and Karson are on vacation for the next week, effective ten minutes ago. I checked you record, and you haven't had a vacation in two years. If you want, I can arrange to fly you down to the corporation villa on Bermuda. I don't care what you and Karson do for the next week, as long as you don't show up here."

"After your vacation, you and Karson will be temporarily assigned to Project MORDRED. Professor Femorain has been, er . . . `Requesting' input from the Knights for the last several months. This will be a perfect time, especially with the run-in you had with the BU-12's last night."

"Understood sir." She bit her lip. "I could use a vacation, and the Bermuda villa sounds perfect. I'm not sure about Karson, though."

"I can handle Karson," replied Mallory easily. "All I have to do are mention women in bikinis, and he'll swim all the way to Bermuda."

"And set a world's record doing it," said Grace.

This brought a small smile to Acreman's face, and the rest of the stiffness flowed out of
her. She stood slowly, and nodded to Mallory. "I'll go home then and pack."

Mallory nodded and said, "I'll tell Brooks-Fenton to make the arrangements."

After she left, Mallory looked at Grace. "Get your team together. We're headed for MegaTokyo."