Black Magic M-66 Fan Fiction / Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction / Bubblegum Crash Fan Fiction ❯ Voodoo ❯ (only chapter) ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

(This is a crossover fic; a Black-Magic M66 robot shows up in
Mega-Tokyo and wreaks havoc. It's based on the 'Grand Mal' version of
the original series. DISCLAIMER: I do not own the title to any of the
characters, settings, or any other anime properties mentioned in this story, and
this is not done with the permission of anyone who does hold such titles. Also
I totally ripped off David Drake, so if you like this you should go check his
stuff out.)

The alleyway was damp, choked, dim, even in the daytime. Not much of a place,
but it was all he had. Ever since getting kicked out of the Tower, he'd drifted
down, through the hotels, the TV studios, the flophouses, the newspaper offices,
the "Snooz-Kyoobz", the 'net spam. Now he was here, and it didn't look like he'd
get another chance to tell his stories about the Tower. He'd thought it would
be so easy...just a little leaked dirt, a little stolen material, and he'd
vault the corporate ladder...
Trash at the back of the alley stirred. Nothing to worry about, probably
just a rat. Or maybe a Boomer, sent to waste him. Hah. Like the Tower'd
bother...he'd learned his lesson...nothing he could do...
Cardboard boxes and bits of unidentifiable garbage shifted, slid, rose.
An indistinct figure rose from the pile. In the dim light, he couldn't make out
its features, but its outline was...female?
"Hey, whatcha doin' here, huh? Gonna catchyer death, hangin' roun' alley
like this. Ya loss' or sommin?"
The figure--the woman--turned her face towards him. She made no other
movement. Her head rotated with the precise ease of a mechanical lathe, and the
impression of a machine became even stronger when her head seemed to lock into
place, looking at him.
Then one of the woman's eyes began to glow red. In the light, he could
see that the other eye was nothing more than a mechanical lens.
"Hey, whaz goin' on? Who-who are you? What do you want?" Icy fear burned
away the fog of alcohol and apathy that had surrounded him. "Did the Tower send
you? What are you? You're not a Boomer...WHAT ARE YOU?"
The woman took one step forward. Another. Another. Her expression did
not change from its inhuman calm, as she raised one arm towards him.
He moaned in terror. She was going to kill him! He had to do
something...fight back...His hand scrabbled behind him, came up with the length
of pipe he'd found earlier. He swung it with all his strength, aiming as best
he could for the woman's head. He heard a flat CLONK, and turned to run.
The last thing he saw was the woman's hand protruding from his chest,
metal fingers flexing, covered in thick red blood.

VOODOO: BlackMagic M66 vs. Knights Sabers

"Wake up."
"God, my head!" "Yeah, that Night Train's a mean wine." "You shut up!"
"Wake up, all of you."
Sylia flicked on the lights of Silky Doll's stockroom. The place was in a
state of chaos; it would take Mackie an hour...no, she'd better do it herself.
Last time Mackie'd tried to clean up back here, he'd needed a cold shower after
the first ten minutes. But this was the last time there'd be any parties back
here.
Priss sat up on the couch she'd collapsed on last night. "Man, that was a
good one. There any of those chicken wings left?" As usual, Priss had managed
to drink everybody under the table, then gone back for more. It really wasn't
good for her, but she kept doing it anyway; Sylia supposed it was some sort of
image thing. It was tough sometimes, having such an adventure junkie running
around with the kind of hardware the Knights Sabers used...but that's what the
insurance was for.
A pile of lingerie heaved, and Nene emerged. The short redhead had gotten
into the Karaoke machine last night, but Linna had come up with an excellent
method of dealing with the results. Sylia didn't say anything to Nene, but just
handed her a bottle of painkiller pills. Three without water... "There must be
more than a few bottles in that bed of yours, Nene."
Glower. "That's the last time I fall for one of Linna's stunts!
Honestly, I don't know why I agreed to that silly 'one shot per missed note, I'm
judge' rule!" Nene stalked off to the bathroom.
Linna, leaning against a wall, snickered at Nene's predicament. "You have
to admit, though, you were getting better near the end..." She hopped upright
and began doing stretching exercises. "You guys should really try some of this
stuff. It's a new technique I learned the other day, some guy called Ken..."
"And I'm sure that's all you two worked on, right?" Priss snorted. "None
of that "oh, my leg, I've got a cramp, could you maybe massage it out for me..."
Linna giggled and looked at the ceiling as innocently as she could manage.
Priss turned to Sylia. "You don't look much the worse for wear. Guess
Little Miss Enhanced-Cerebrum doesn't get drunk or hungover..."
Sylia gasped. "Priss, I can't believe you just said that."
"Sorry." Priss scowled. "Looks like I'm just in a nasty mood this
morning, huh?"
"It's three PM. We have a briefing in one hour in the upstairs room, so
be ready." Sylia turned on her heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind
her. Through the door, she heard a muffled "What's her problem?" "Come on,
Priss, you know she doesn't like to talk about it." "Hey, if you got it, flaunt
it!" "Your motto?" "You know it!"
The bad part of it was, Priss' taunts wouldn't have provoked such a
reaction if Sylia hadn't been slightly hungover herself...

"...and with the reclamation efforts on the south piers, there'll be the
possibility of Boomer activity. Most likely, considering that GENOM bid lowest
again."
Priss grimaced. "What? After that last PR flap? The city council's
gotta be nuts!"
"Hey, you know they're just Tower puppets," Nene shot back. "Hey, I
wouldn't be surprised to find that they're some sort of Boomers themselves!"
Sylia coldly interjected, "Conspiracy theories have no place here; we can
only base our actions on what we know. And from this latest revelation, we know
that the standard BU-38D is a fully combat-capable model."
A low whistle from Priss. "So the bastards have been spreading these
things throughout the city? I wonder how many people know that they're walking
right next to GENOM death machines every day..."
"Good title for a song, maybe?"
"Linna, I'm not going to let you in the band, so don't try."
"All right, all right. Hmph."
Sylia continued, "Regardless, I think that something odd's been going on.
According to Nene, the AD police are getting reports of killings in the
slums...almost Boomer-like MO's. The latest was of the man who told me about
the combat capabilities of the 38D. Nene, I want you and Linna to search the
district. Find out if there are any rogue Boomers in the area, and report back
to me if there are. I don't expect we'll see anything, but don't engage if you
do...I want evidence of what's going on this time."
"Right." "On it." The two girls got up to leave.
"Be careful. You know how nasty those Boomers can be."
Linna laughed. "When was the last time I had trouble with only one?"
The door closed behind them. Priss stood. "Sylia, you've been giving me
looks since we got here. What's going on?"
Sylia crossed and uncrossed her arms. Priss wondered what was happening;
Sylia was never nervous. The tall woman cleared her throat. "Priss, I didn't
want to say this in front of the others-"
Priss's eyes opened wide. That sounded bad...
"-but there was an eyewitness to one of the killings. He didn't report to
the AD Police, but he said that what did it wasn't a Boomer. It seemed more to
be some sort of female-shaped humanoid figure. I'm not saying that I think it
was you, but you've always been the more...hot-headed...of us. And I just
wanted to say...that if there's anything you need to...talk about, then..."
Priss walked towards Sylia's chair. "I can't believe I'm hearing this,"
she growled. She slammed her fists down onto the table; Sylia winced at the
cracking sound. "You always-ALWAYS-should remember that my first and only enemy
in life is the Tower. I NEVER will harm another human while I have the choice."
Sylia calmly met Priss's furious eyes. "I know that. But I'm saying
that..."
Priss turned and stalked to the door. For a moment, she considered
kicking it off the hinges, but that would only alert the others that something
was wrong...and nobody wanted that. She turned again and said, in a voice of
cold menace, "I swore to remain a member of this group until we defeated GENOM.
But I refuse to stay with people who think I'm a psychopathic killer. I'm going
to forget this conversation, and if I ever hear it brought up again I will
leave."
She pulled the door open and stomped out. Linna's call of "Hey, Priss!
Can you..." was met by a vicious growl, the snarl of a wounded tiger. Sylia sat
alone as the door swung closed, wondering if Priss's reaction was true. After
all, in most of the criminal insanity cases she'd read about, the killer was
more believable than most honest people. And more deadly than a platoon of
soldiers. Was Priss really capable of hallucinating that innocent people were
disguised Boomers? Sylia was unsettled to realize that deep down, she was quite
willing to believe that the answer was yes.

The pink-and-purple hardsuit spun from doorway to doorway as Nene swept
the street. Her active sensors laid a wash of conflicting images across her
visor, the results of thermal, motion-sensor, and sonic scans of the entire area
surrounding her. This was what she liked best about her "secret life"...not
only having the ultra-tech, but knowing how to use it and work with it. She
knew that she was the only one who could operate the EW hardsuit. In a pinch,
Sylia maybe could...Linna probably not...and Priss wouldn't know how to start
the damn thing. Maybe Nene wasn't much good at a stand-up battle; but she
didn't break bones every mission. Priss almost seems to enjoy it, Nene mused.
All the while, she was scanning the street, the puddles, the buildings,
the piles of rotting trash. Nothing abnormal...nothing here at all, for the
most part, this deep in the old city. "Linna, stop for a second," she called,
"I want to do a seismic scan."
"Check." Linna's green-and-orange hardsuit plunged towards the ground,
trailing wisps of plasma like decorative ribbons. She braked at the last
second, rolling sideways and into a doorway, her form perfect.
"Good one, Linna!" "Thanks. Hurry with that scan, it's creepy out here."
Nene agreed. She plunged the seismic rod into the ground, thinking about
how much the alleyway seemed like the one from 'Night of the Lepus III', and how
scary the movie was, and how that thing had snuck up behind that poor girl
and...
The seismic scan finished, and the artificial intelligence obediently
displayed a three-dimensional graphic of the surrounding five blocks. Several
movement sources were pinpointed; two were nothing more than masses of rats
(ugh!), three were humans walking, and one was...different.
"Linna, I'm picking up something. Bearing oh-seven-four, range one-forty
meters. A lot heavier than a human. I think we've got our boy."
"Let's go have a look...You stay back, I'll twist his tail a bit." Linna
sounded confident.
Nene didn't like that. "Sylia said not to do anything, I really don't
think..."
Linna chortled. "Hey, she can tear it up all she wants later...all I
wanna do is a quick flyby."
Fire puffed from the back of Linna's hardsuit, and she shot up into the
air. Nene ran towards the seismic signature's location, her suit's servos
boosting her running speed. Thirty seconds passed...forty.
"GOD! OH MY GOD! AAAAAoomph..."
"LINNA!"
Nene skidded around a corner and saw Linna staggering back from a shadowed
figure, her suit's chest marred by a sizeable dent.
Linna stumbled backwards, falling into Nene's arms. "Linna, are you
alright? Please say you're alright!"
Linna gasped. "Yeah...jus' gotta...catch my..." She stirred and stood.
"...didn't expect that...knocked my wind out. Okay, you ironhead
bastard...you're goin' DOWN..."
Her thrusters flared, pushing her towards the slim figure. Linna's
opponent dropped into a guard stance, its long cloak billowing out behind it.
Its right eye glowed red, and in the light Nene could see its face.
"Linna, don't! It's not a Boomer!" Even as she spoke, she was trying to
get into the thing's head, any way she could...her viewscreen suddenly flared
white with overload. She snapped up her outer visor and saw a red line spear
out of the figure's left eye and slice across Linna's hardsuit. Linna twisted
and rolled, trying to break the deadly beam's contact. "Help, it's hot!
Owowowow!"
Nene swung her right arm up and sprayed the figure with her own lasers.
In the flaring light, she saw the figure clearly. What she saw horrified her.
The enemy...the woman...vanished suddenly, straight up into the darkness. Nene,
shivering with reaction, turned towards Linna. Her suit had lines of ugly char
all across its surface, but the martial artist's wild dodging had saved her from
any penetrations.
"Sylia's going to want to know about this."

The wind whipped Priss's hair back and forth as she kicked the bike into
fourth gear. This was normally her favorite part of the ride, ripping down a
deserted highway, going hell-bent-for-leather, and knowing that this still
wasn't as fast as you could go. There was so much to think about, controlling
the bike, shifting gears, keeping the engine hanging onto the red line, that
everything else got pushed out. It was the best kind of meditation you could
find.
But some things still got through. Sylia's smug grin as she tossed off
those accusations. The cold, sick feeling inside when she'd thought Sylia knew.
Then the hot rage when she realized that not only did Sylia not know, but she
was thinking that Priss was capable of killing another human. Never. Never...
Flashes off to the left of the highway -- somebody was catching hell.
Probably the mystery Boomer, the AD police finally taking a crack at it...

The APC exploded in a white-yellow fireball, filling the alleyway with
blazing diesel fuel. "Pull back! Pull back!" came over Joel's comlink, but
there wasn't anywhere to go in the blazing inferno that had appeared out of
nowhere. The red beam licked out and sliced through George, drowning his yells
in blood. The woman's figure stamped down onto the two halves of the falling
body, flattening them against the ground. Joel sighted his assault rifle onto
the silhouette and opened up, ripping out his entire magazine. The woman's body
was covered by the flashes of explosive bullets, knocking her backwards. She
didn't fall, instead she spun into a cartwheel, moving fast, too fast...a
grenade detonated against her chest with a white flash and a CRACK, shoving her
into a building wall. Joel looked left and saw Leon reloading his missile gun.
Leon jumped sideways, shouting "Move, damn it! That won't take it down!"
Even as he spoke, the red beam burned into the pavement where he had been
standing. Joel looked upwards, amazed to see the woman flying through the air.
The assault rifle he'd reloaded without thinking twitched upward, but the woman
landed in front of him first. The last thing he noticed was the intricate metal
details on the woman's face, and then the wheel kick smashed through his visor.

Priss suited up carefully this time, thinking about each step in turn.
First step into the leg pieces, making sure each foot is fully engaged. Then
grab the hip joints and pull _up_ firmly, making sure to keep even force on both
sides. SHISH-SNAP. Arms go into the arm guards, sliding _down_ and _in_ until
you feel the _lock_. CLICK. Pull up _straight_, then engage the system. The
back guard and thruster pack swings up and locks. CLICK. Helmet goes _down_,
then _back_, then _twist_. Green lights glow, ready. Now she feels it,
strongly, the wave coming towards her, like the feeling she has on the bike,
everything swept away by the focus of the adrenaline rush. Priss stepped to the
garage door, looking over the workshop for the last time...maybe. Just like
every time...but there was still the Tower, and another of its minions to
defeat. "Miles to go before I sleep," she muttered to herself, then stepped out
into the night.

The Boomer flew through the night, heading towards the combat scene. Its
radar switched to wide scan, hunting for the intruder on the GENOM research
lab's grounds. What the intruder might be, the Boomer did not - and could not -
know. It only knew that it was not of GENOM, and therefore an enemy. Such
simple thoughts were useful in its current role.
It slammed to the ground, facing the ruins of a processor plant. Smoke
streamed upwards from the twisted metal and shattered components, shrouding the
figure of a woman. Was it one of the Knight Sabers? The Boomer couldn't
determine, though the current profile on the Knight Sabers didn't
include...hair?
The figure twisted, crouched, and shot upward into the night. The Boomer
remained impassive as its radar sensors calculated the target's trajectory, a
high-angle curve through the sky. It engaged its own thrusters, and blasted
towards an intercept point. Alloy talons spread, ready to rend and tear.
The silvery figure, its exterior spattered with blood and hydraulic fluid,
swept towards him out of the night. It had dodged! The Boomer, its wetware
processors shunting madly to counter, spun to the side. Its jaws gaped,
extending the particle beam projector. A stream of neutrons blazed forth,
coursing toward the unexpected attacker-which wasn't there anymore. Again, it
had somehow changed its course in midair, dropping to the ground. The particle
beam, harmless to its intended target, vaporized a thirty-foot-square sheet
of glass from the side of a building.
The Boomer crashed to the ground, the concrete beneath its feet cracking
in a concentric pattern. This target would be harder than Central had
anticipated. The algorithms in its brain shifted into a rough analogue of
excitement.

As Priss skidded around the corner, she saw something amazing...A humanoid
figure, long hair streaming out behind it, was dismantling a Boomer like a piece
of chicken. Kicks and punches flowed together in an almost poetic fashion,
skill and speed accomplishing what strength alone could not. Though the woman
was definitely strong... Priss winced as a stiff-fingered, stabbing punch tore
through the Boomer's side, followed by a rush of fluids. The Booomer staggered
backwards, one arm missing, its tattered armor exposing internal systems.
Undefeated, it brought its remaining arm upwards, ready to smash the attacker
into the pavement. Undaunted, the woman leapt upwards, placing her hands on the
Boomer's shoulders. She pulled her legs downward, bringing her feet against the
biomechanical's head with a sickening crunch. The two figures suddenly froze,
neither moving while the light in the GENOM machine's eyes slowly died.
Suddenly, the Boomer collapsed to the pavement, while the woman nimbly leapt
from its back and landed on the street in a crouch.
"Nice job," said Priss on her external speakers. "You think maybe..."
She never got a chance to finish the thought, as the woman stood and
turned. In the flickering light of a dying fluorescent tube, Priss saw that
what she had thought was an armored woman was in fact...a robot.
"My God...what are you...and what are you trying to do?"
The woman-the robot--made no reply, merely stood and stared at Priss. It
didn't make a single move, just waited for Priss to act.
"You're the one who's been killing those bums in the old city."
Nothing.
"But then you wreck a GENOM installation and take out a Boomer."
Nothing.
"You realize we can't let you keep doing this."
Nothing.
"Dammit, at least say something...hell, you're just a friggin robot, even
worse than a damn Boomer...OK, have it your way."
Priss ignited the motorcycle's engine, while bringing her hardsuit's
weapons off safe. She kicked the bike into gear and accelerated straight
towards the robot, which still had not reacted. One quick pass and a few needle
shots, and that would be that. She swung her hand up towards the robot...
...and it grabbed her arm. "I'm going fifty kay an hour? What kind of
reflexes..." The rest of Priss's stunned thought was lost as she was lifted into
the air and spun towards a wall. Her suit's AI reacted in time to keep the
force of the crash from being lethal, but it was tooth-jarring nonetheless.
Even with the armor, Priss was stunned for a second; but only a second. The
moment after she hit the wall, she rolled to the right, just in time to avoid
the kick that powdered concrete. The riderless bike smashed into a wall and
shattered in a red ball of fire shot through with black smoke.
Priss flipped backwards, her servo-enhanced muscles turning her motions
into twenty-foot jumps. A red beam flashed out of the darkness and traced a
pattern that spiraled in towards her, but Priss's suit tracked it to its source.
A targeting carat appeared on her viewscreen, as well as a pair of crosshairs.
Her suit's arm moved, as much by reflex as by decision, and the crosshairs
merged with the carat. There was a CRACK as the magnetically-accelerated
needles broke the sound barrier, and the red beam cut off. The fluorescent tube
flared back to life, and Priss saw the woman staggering, one hand to her face.
At least one of the needles had plunged into the robot's left eye, smashing the
laser's generator.
"Not a fair fight anymore...but them's the breaks!" Priss muttered.
While surprised that the needle salvo hadn't taken it out completely, she
relished the prospect of some close combat...this 'bot seemed to be better than
most Boomers. She turned her reflex booster to maximum and charged.
Her first kick was met by a metallic arm, the block striking sparks from
both surfaces. The robot delivered a powerful punch in response that Priss
barely dodged. The two traded blows for a few seconds, until the robot managed
to land a kick on Priss's side. The Knight Saber flew sideways, landing in a
pile of garbage. She bounced back up, refusing to let the pain affect her until
after the fight. The robot had disappeared...no! There it was, running to the
back of the alley. It was fast...but not fast enough. Priss caught up to it at
the alley wall, its path blocked. It turned to face Priss, and she was
surprised to see no flicker of fear cross its countenance. Even Boomers looked
a little apprehensive in situations like this...though Priss may have just been
wishing that. The robot opened up with a flurry of high kicks; Priss ducked.
She slammed her fist upwards to the woman's face, knocking her backwards and out
of her rhythm. This was what Priss had been waiting for. She started to pummel
the robot with little reservation. Not much technique here, just beat the damn
thing into metal chips...this's been going on long enough...never again...not
more of those Boomers...never!...
The robot suddenly slipped a hand out, faster than Priss could have
believed, and caught her along the side. The metal of her suit rang on a high
note as she flew into a wall and slumped to the ground. The robot leapt high
into the air, so high that Priss almost couldn't see it...then it came plunging
back down, so fast that she almost couldn't block it. But she managed to raise
her arm soon enough that the robot's fist only smashed against her forearm,
instead of crushing her helmet like an eggshell. The two froze, each locked in
place by effort. Priss gritted her teeth as she pushed against the robot. Its
face was impassive as it tried to force her arm away. Priss felt the metal of
her suit begin to deform under the pressure, and her vision swam as she
strained, and she realized that she wasn't strong enough this time...
A man stepped to the top of the alley wall. Moonlight flashed across his
sunglasses as he jacked a shell into the chamber of the rifle he carried. He
leveled the weapon and fired, the rifle spitting the round out with a dull
CHUNG. A white flash burst against the robot's chest, knocking it backwards a
few steps...and away from Priss.
She wasted no time in leaping up, placing her right palm against the
stunned robot's face, and firing. She slipped a hand around its shoulders in a
bizarre parody of a hug, and continued to pump hypersonic needles into its head.
After eight more blasts, she stopped; the robot jerked twice, then ceased
moving. Priss stepped away, and it fell to the ground. As she stood over it,
it looked up at her with what was left of its face, and raised one arm. A final
attempt to attack? Pleading for mercy? A salute? Five needles through the
chest, and the arm fell back to the robot's side.
Leon stepped forward. "Good job. That thing was more trouble than it was
worth."
Priss said "You knew about this? This...this thing that's been running
around killing people? And it got me in some trouble, too, not to mention."
"Well, I heard that the military'd been looking into some alternatives to
Boomers..." Leon began. Priss realized that the funny clicking she'd been
hearing had been coming from the robot's body. She grabbed Leon and leapt
towards the nearest doorway, just as the remains of the assassin robot exploded
into a cloud of shrapnel. Priss felt hundreds of tiny fragments bounce off her
armor, but she had managed to save Leon. She was glad, though she really had no
idea why.
They walked out of the alley together, Leon slinging the heavy rifle onto
his back. "So, I hear you Knights Sabers charge quite a fee for little
exhibitions like this. How much do we owe you this time, babe?"
"Well, I think that this time...we'll call it a public service."
Leon smirked. "Hey, that's all right with me...though I was talking about
something else. You seem to be a little less armored than usual."
Priss suddenly realize that her left side felt cold. She looked down, and
gasped as she realized that the robot's last punch had torn away a chunk of her
chest plating, exposing...she slammed both her arms across her chest, wincing at
the cold metal.
"Well, Mr. Voyeur, I'd say that the robot job was free...and in fact, I'd
be willing to pay you something on the side to keep this 'other' business quiet.
Leon hopped on his bicycle. "Hey, I hear that there's quite a market out
there for stuff like this...and considering that I had my mini-cam online the
whole time, I have the entire incident on record." He pulled down his sunglasses
slightly, and winked at her. "And it's not likely that you can pay me more than
I'll make off pics of such luscious hooters as those!"
He kicked his bike into gear and peeled out, just as Priss made a grab for
him. She remembered what that exposed and quickly crossed her arms again.
"Damn you, Leon! I'll get you for this if it's the last thing I do!
AAARRRGGGH!"

End