Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Black Knights, Steel Hearts ❯ Chapter 17
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Trboturtle 
Battle on the Coastal Hioghway -- Part Two
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mecha / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 12.26.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 567 | Status: Completed
Battle on the Coastal Hioghway -- Part Two
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mecha / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 12.26.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 567 | Status: Completed
**************************************************
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 . . .
*************************************************
Ch apter 17
Onboard the Knight Wing
Above Highway 17
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
3:25am
Priss reached for her helmet with one hand, while lightly striking the intercom button with the other. "I'm ready, Mackie."
The ride to the Knight Wing had been a wild one to put it mildly. She'd seen the familiar shape was it came in low and fast before sliding to an almost complete stop so the Sabers and their Motoslaves could clear the compartment by way of the ramp. As the rest of the team deployed, Priss had gunned her motorcycle's engine and accelerated toward the VTOL. Mackie had quickly swung the Knight Wing one eighty, sending dust and smoke in every direction.
Priss waved to her team mates and rode the motorcycle hard. At the last second, she saw the still open ramp and adjusted her trajectory. She hit the brakes, leaving just enough speed to shoot up the ramp and into the Knight Wing. The ramp was still closing when Mackie hit the
thrusters and sent the Knight Wing screaming into the night sky. After that, it had taken her less the two minutes secure the bike and change into her hardsuit.
"Understood," replied Mackie, his voice distant as he concentrated on bringing around the Knight Wing. "ETA to landing sight, thirty seconds. I'm going to drop you off near Nene - she's under some pressure from a pair of BU-12s."
"Roger that," she replied, slipping her helmet on. As soon as the suit was sealed, she continued the conversation. "What about the other aircraft?"
"They're more intent on supporting their ground units right now, but I'm not going to take them for granted. Sis says their allies, but . . . "
"I know. What's the ADP doing?"
"Holding a perimeter around the battlefield, and not much else."
"Typical," growled Priss.
"I don't blame them. It's nasty down there right now."
"I know - that's the way I like it." She tested the movement of the handcannon she'd equipped herself for this fight. "How long now?"
"Ten seconds. The ramp at the back of the compartment began to slide open. "Nene and the Motoslaves will be on your left, at about fifty meters. Better let her know you're coming in."
"Right." Priss switched over to the team's channel. "Nene, I'll be with you in about ten seconds. Are you all right?"
"So far," replied the redhead. "But both Typhoons are getting pounded."
"How many Boomers?"
"At least two, maybe three. The Motorslave's machine cannons are almost out of ammo."
"Start dropping back toward me, I'm joining you now."
"Understood."
With that, Priss launched herself out the hatch and into the battle.
**********
Highway 17
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
3:26am
Greg dodged to his right to avoid another laser blast and fired his rail gun at the Boomer trying to kill him. Two of the needles ripped into the still exposed laser machine gun mounted in the arm, wrecking it. At the same time, the third needle from Greg's salvo punched through
the Boomer's right eye and bit deep.
The BU-55C, grabbing the metal spike that had damaged its vision, staggered back and away from the protection of the car door. Just then, Marcus saw his chance and opened up with his hardsuit's rotary cannon. Large craters blossomed across the Boomer's chest and arms as the Cyberdroid shuddered under the attack. Finally, the armor gave way and the Boomer exploded in a geyser of flame and sound.
"Red Team, status," said Greg. He straightened, looking for the other four Boomers and the young girl that had suddenly taken off running, leaving one of their number as a rear guard. But the smoke, from many sources, shrouded the battlefield, cutting his area of view sharply.
"Red Two here. I'm running out of ammo for both the cannon and railgun."
"Red Three. I'm unscathed."
"Red . . . Three heereeeee Bossssss . . . "
"Nicky, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but that laaast shot clipped my helmet and damaged my comm equipment. Switc-cching to secondaaaaries." There was silence for two seconds, then Nicky's voice came in clear. "Any better Boss?"
"Much better. Anyone got the location of those last three Boomers?"
"Negative, Greg," replied Marcus. "Smoke's too thick here. Just like LA."
"Defensive positions, people, while I contact the other teams." Greg switched over to the general channel. "Blue team, White team, status."
"Blue Leader here." Harland sounded tired and irritated. "We've accounted for four of the eight Boomers. But two of them got past us, and I can hear sounds of a firefight behind us. The other two are playing hard to get. Three of them tried to take out Rattler Two, but Trask and
the newbie beat them off. No serious injuries."
"White Leader here. Six of eight targets down. The other two are doing the same thing as Blue team's, trying hit and run tactics. White Two has a possible broken arm, and I'm going to need some help in get this suit off at me later, but we are still intact."
"Understood. Stay in place until I say otherwise. Blue Leader, can you free anyone up to see about the two that got past you?"
"Not right now. Suggest you tell White Saber that her people are under attack."
"Understood. Knight One out." He switched back to the team channel. "Nicky, are you tracking our late hosts?"
"I got a small group of signals moving away from us at a forty-five degree angle. I've also got another small group of signals heading toward us, and we see who they are about . . . now."
Two hardsuits, one white in color with gray highlights, the other lime green with red highlights, emerged from the smoke. They were followed by two tall and sinister looking mecha with color schemes that each matched one of the hardsuits. The white hardsuit looked at the four of them. "Which one of you is Knight One?" the Saber asked, using her loudspeaker so everyone could hear her. The voice was electronically disguised, but Greg could tell the voice was female, and held a ring of authority he was very familiar with.
Greg raised his hand, and turned on his own loudspeaker. "Right here. Glad you could make it."
"Where are the other Boomers?"
"They must have sensed you coming. They popped a couple of smoke grenades and pulled back off in that direction." Greg pointed off to his right."
White Saber nodded. "What about your other teams?"
"We're holding our own, but a couple of BU-12's got past Blue team and I think are engaging the rest of your team."
"They are."
"I suppose it would be a stupid question to ask if they can handle them?"
"It would be."
Greg sighed. "I suggest we track down those Boomers and see if they really have Janie VanDell, or a replica."
"Agreed." The Knight Saber looked up at the Rattlesnake hovering overhead. "Can we hitch a ride with you?"
"You and your friend, No problem. But not your Mecha."
"We can send them after the Boomers via the ground, while we drop on them from the air."
"Right." How come I feel like I've just lost control here? "Red Team, Form up." He switched over to the team channel. "Rattler One, this is Knight One. Requesting a dust-off for Red Team and friends."
"Roger, Knight One. ETA, Fifteen seconds."
**********
Trask swung the Rattlesnake hard to the left, avoiding the stream of machine gun bullets, all the while cursing in three different languages. Leon ignored him and fired a couple of 60mm rounds at the flying BU-12. The Boomer wove out of the way of the shells, and fired its railcannon at the helicopter.
Leon was slammed back into his seat as Trask twisted the chopper away from the shot. The pilot spun the chopper back around, and flew directly at the Boomer, closing the distance between them quickly. This time, the Cyberdroid stood its ground bringing its gun arm up and
aiming it at the chopper.
Leon waited until there were only fifty meters separating them from the battle Boomer before he fired the last of the HE rockets. A dozen of the missiles lit up the night sky and bore in on the Boomer.
At the same instance, the BU-12 cut loose with both its railcannon and machine-gun. Several of the rockets exploded short of the mark as they intercepted the Boomer's fire, but the rest found their target. The air around the Boomer suddenly lit up in blooms of light and sound.
Trask pulled the chopper hard to the left to avoid the multiple explosions. As he did so, Leon saw bits and pieces fall from the center of the blast toward the ground below. "I think we got it," he said cautiously.
"I think so."
"Attention All Rattlers and Knights," said a voice over Leon's earphones. "This is Nest One. We are picking up multiple targets coming out of the southwest. Preliminary ID is a dozen Boomer-sized objects. ETA is three minutes forty seconds to White Team's location."
"Spoke too soon again," muttered Trask.
"All Knights, this is Knight One." Mallory's voice was whip-like. "Blue Leader, can you assist White Team?"
"Affirmative, Knight One. The last Boomer just went for a short trip straight down."
"Hustle over to White Team's position and keep them off Red Team and the Knight Sabers with us. See if you can hook up with the other Knight Sabers near you position and bring them along. They'll be waiting for you."
"Understood, Knight One. Rattler Two, you get that?"
"Affirmative, Blue Leader," replied Trask dropping the helicopter toward the roadway below. "ETA is ten seconds."
"No rest for the weary," said Leon, reloading his revolver.
"It beats working as a wage slave," replied Trask. "Here we go."
**********
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 . . .
*************************************************
Ch apter 17
Onboard the Knight Wing
Above Highway 17
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
3:25am
Priss reached for her helmet with one hand, while lightly striking the intercom button with the other. "I'm ready, Mackie."
The ride to the Knight Wing had been a wild one to put it mildly. She'd seen the familiar shape was it came in low and fast before sliding to an almost complete stop so the Sabers and their Motoslaves could clear the compartment by way of the ramp. As the rest of the team deployed, Priss had gunned her motorcycle's engine and accelerated toward the VTOL. Mackie had quickly swung the Knight Wing one eighty, sending dust and smoke in every direction.
Priss waved to her team mates and rode the motorcycle hard. At the last second, she saw the still open ramp and adjusted her trajectory. She hit the brakes, leaving just enough speed to shoot up the ramp and into the Knight Wing. The ramp was still closing when Mackie hit the
thrusters and sent the Knight Wing screaming into the night sky. After that, it had taken her less the two minutes secure the bike and change into her hardsuit.
"Understood," replied Mackie, his voice distant as he concentrated on bringing around the Knight Wing. "ETA to landing sight, thirty seconds. I'm going to drop you off near Nene - she's under some pressure from a pair of BU-12s."
"Roger that," she replied, slipping her helmet on. As soon as the suit was sealed, she continued the conversation. "What about the other aircraft?"
"They're more intent on supporting their ground units right now, but I'm not going to take them for granted. Sis says their allies, but . . . "
"I know. What's the ADP doing?"
"Holding a perimeter around the battlefield, and not much else."
"Typical," growled Priss.
"I don't blame them. It's nasty down there right now."
"I know - that's the way I like it." She tested the movement of the handcannon she'd equipped herself for this fight. "How long now?"
"Ten seconds. The ramp at the back of the compartment began to slide open. "Nene and the Motoslaves will be on your left, at about fifty meters. Better let her know you're coming in."
"Right." Priss switched over to the team's channel. "Nene, I'll be with you in about ten seconds. Are you all right?"
"So far," replied the redhead. "But both Typhoons are getting pounded."
"How many Boomers?"
"At least two, maybe three. The Motorslave's machine cannons are almost out of ammo."
"Start dropping back toward me, I'm joining you now."
"Understood."
With that, Priss launched herself out the hatch and into the battle.
**********
Highway 17
District 6
Saturday, December 22, 2035
3:26am
Greg dodged to his right to avoid another laser blast and fired his rail gun at the Boomer trying to kill him. Two of the needles ripped into the still exposed laser machine gun mounted in the arm, wrecking it. At the same time, the third needle from Greg's salvo punched through
the Boomer's right eye and bit deep.
The BU-55C, grabbing the metal spike that had damaged its vision, staggered back and away from the protection of the car door. Just then, Marcus saw his chance and opened up with his hardsuit's rotary cannon. Large craters blossomed across the Boomer's chest and arms as the Cyberdroid shuddered under the attack. Finally, the armor gave way and the Boomer exploded in a geyser of flame and sound.
"Red Team, status," said Greg. He straightened, looking for the other four Boomers and the young girl that had suddenly taken off running, leaving one of their number as a rear guard. But the smoke, from many sources, shrouded the battlefield, cutting his area of view sharply.
"Red Two here. I'm running out of ammo for both the cannon and railgun."
"Red Three. I'm unscathed."
"Red . . . Three heereeeee Bossssss . . . "
"Nicky, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but that laaast shot clipped my helmet and damaged my comm equipment. Switc-cching to secondaaaaries." There was silence for two seconds, then Nicky's voice came in clear. "Any better Boss?"
"Much better. Anyone got the location of those last three Boomers?"
"Negative, Greg," replied Marcus. "Smoke's too thick here. Just like LA."
"Defensive positions, people, while I contact the other teams." Greg switched over to the general channel. "Blue team, White team, status."
"Blue Leader here." Harland sounded tired and irritated. "We've accounted for four of the eight Boomers. But two of them got past us, and I can hear sounds of a firefight behind us. The other two are playing hard to get. Three of them tried to take out Rattler Two, but Trask and
the newbie beat them off. No serious injuries."
"White Leader here. Six of eight targets down. The other two are doing the same thing as Blue team's, trying hit and run tactics. White Two has a possible broken arm, and I'm going to need some help in get this suit off at me later, but we are still intact."
"Understood. Stay in place until I say otherwise. Blue Leader, can you free anyone up to see about the two that got past you?"
"Not right now. Suggest you tell White Saber that her people are under attack."
"Understood. Knight One out." He switched back to the team channel. "Nicky, are you tracking our late hosts?"
"I got a small group of signals moving away from us at a forty-five degree angle. I've also got another small group of signals heading toward us, and we see who they are about . . . now."
Two hardsuits, one white in color with gray highlights, the other lime green with red highlights, emerged from the smoke. They were followed by two tall and sinister looking mecha with color schemes that each matched one of the hardsuits. The white hardsuit looked at the four of them. "Which one of you is Knight One?" the Saber asked, using her loudspeaker so everyone could hear her. The voice was electronically disguised, but Greg could tell the voice was female, and held a ring of authority he was very familiar with.
Greg raised his hand, and turned on his own loudspeaker. "Right here. Glad you could make it."
"Where are the other Boomers?"
"They must have sensed you coming. They popped a couple of smoke grenades and pulled back off in that direction." Greg pointed off to his right."
White Saber nodded. "What about your other teams?"
"We're holding our own, but a couple of BU-12's got past Blue team and I think are engaging the rest of your team."
"They are."
"I suppose it would be a stupid question to ask if they can handle them?"
"It would be."
Greg sighed. "I suggest we track down those Boomers and see if they really have Janie VanDell, or a replica."
"Agreed." The Knight Saber looked up at the Rattlesnake hovering overhead. "Can we hitch a ride with you?"
"You and your friend, No problem. But not your Mecha."
"We can send them after the Boomers via the ground, while we drop on them from the air."
"Right." How come I feel like I've just lost control here? "Red Team, Form up." He switched over to the team channel. "Rattler One, this is Knight One. Requesting a dust-off for Red Team and friends."
"Roger, Knight One. ETA, Fifteen seconds."
**********
Trask swung the Rattlesnake hard to the left, avoiding the stream of machine gun bullets, all the while cursing in three different languages. Leon ignored him and fired a couple of 60mm rounds at the flying BU-12. The Boomer wove out of the way of the shells, and fired its railcannon at the helicopter.
Leon was slammed back into his seat as Trask twisted the chopper away from the shot. The pilot spun the chopper back around, and flew directly at the Boomer, closing the distance between them quickly. This time, the Cyberdroid stood its ground bringing its gun arm up and
aiming it at the chopper.
Leon waited until there were only fifty meters separating them from the battle Boomer before he fired the last of the HE rockets. A dozen of the missiles lit up the night sky and bore in on the Boomer.
At the same instance, the BU-12 cut loose with both its railcannon and machine-gun. Several of the rockets exploded short of the mark as they intercepted the Boomer's fire, but the rest found their target. The air around the Boomer suddenly lit up in blooms of light and sound.
Trask pulled the chopper hard to the left to avoid the multiple explosions. As he did so, Leon saw bits and pieces fall from the center of the blast toward the ground below. "I think we got it," he said cautiously.
"I think so."
"Attention All Rattlers and Knights," said a voice over Leon's earphones. "This is Nest One. We are picking up multiple targets coming out of the southwest. Preliminary ID is a dozen Boomer-sized objects. ETA is three minutes forty seconds to White Team's location."
"Spoke too soon again," muttered Trask.
"All Knights, this is Knight One." Mallory's voice was whip-like. "Blue Leader, can you assist White Team?"
"Affirmative, Knight One. The last Boomer just went for a short trip straight down."
"Hustle over to White Team's position and keep them off Red Team and the Knight Sabers with us. See if you can hook up with the other Knight Sabers near you position and bring them along. They'll be waiting for you."
"Understood, Knight One. Rattler Two, you get that?"
"Affirmative, Blue Leader," replied Trask dropping the helicopter toward the roadway below. "ETA is ten seconds."
"No rest for the weary," said Leon, reloading his revolver.
"It beats working as a wage slave," replied Trask. "Here we go."
**********