Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #1 -- "Tin-Sell City" ❯ Chapter 11- "Hardsuit training" ( Chapter 11 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
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Chapter 11- "Hardsuit training"

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Craig was still cheerful the next evening at Raven's

He walked out of the changing room, into the control room, wearing the innersuit necessary for using the hardsuits. Sylia was waiting for him, as was Linna. Priss was performing tonight and Nene was working the evening shift at ADP headquarters, so they couldn't be there.

"How does the innersuit fit?" asked Sylia.

"Like a glove," Craig replied, swinging his arms around to demonstrate the ease of movement.

"It sure does," breathed Linna, her gaze traveling up and down his body.

Craig noticed Linna's appraising look. "Madam, will you please stop drooling?'" he said in mock outrage. "It's undignified, embarrassing, plus dangerous."

Linna looked puzzled. "Dangerous? How?"

"Well, someone could trip over your tongue."

The dancer shot him a cold look. "That's going to cost you tomorrow," she said in a miffed tone.

"Fine by me - Mackie."

The look she gave him could have frozen boiling lava. Craig just grinned back. Sylia just shook her head. "If you children are finished," she said in a patient tone. "Craig, if you're ready?"

"Right." Craig walked into the training room, followed by Linna. With the exception of the hardsuit, opened and ready to be worn and a small table holding the helmet, the room was empty.

Craig stared at the hardsuit. He had seen it every day as it had been assembled, but standing there, complete and real. It was dull black for the most part, with only stripes of lackluster grey at the thighs, elbows and along the sides of the helmet. It wasn't quite as sleek and elegant as the other Sabers' suits, but then again, he wasn't as slinky and exquisite as the women that wore those suits. It looked somewhat like an unfinished figure, with the front and rear sections of the leg armor split apart like an odd spring, and the chest and arms leaning forward and dangling like an off-balanced mannequin. Both forearms, because of the weapons they housed, were thicker then the forearms on Sylia's suit and both ended with armored gloves.

"Why did you chose black and grey for your hardsuit's colors?" asked Linna.

"Blend in better with the shadows, plus I don't like to be flashy. It also matches my moods sometimes."

Sylia, still in the control room, stood in front of the observation window and said over the intercom, "Since this is just a test fitting and adjustment session, the weapons and flight subsystems have been deactivated, the suit's strength is only at seventy-five percent, and the suits's battery level is only at fifty percent. You will follow my commands and you will report any problems or discomfort you might have inside the suit. Begin to suit up." Craig walked over to the suit and took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the armor before him.

"Need a hand getting in?" Linna asked him.

Craig nodded, not wanting to speak. Linna reached out and held his arm. Slowly, carefully, Craig lifted his right leg and placed it inside the suit. Pointing his foot, he eased into the armor until his foot touched the inside of the armored boot. Once his foot slid into place, he lifted his left leg and placed inside the suit, with Linna's help. Once his stood there, the dancer stepped back, releasing his arm and leaving him standing there.

"You realize you'll have to do it quicker once you're use to it," Sylia reminded him. Craig nodded, not looking at her. He reached down along the split halves of the leg guards until his fingers brushed the handholds at the hip level armor. Once he had both handholds firmly, he pulled up slowly, straightening his legs as he did so. With a click, the armor locked into place.

"Any problems?" Sylia asked.

"Nope," Craig replied, taking the opportunity to examine the sides of his legs to see how the armor looked. "It feels like I'm wearing sweatpants, sort of."

Sylia glanced down at something on the panel in front of her. "Looks like a good seal on the lower sections of the suit," she said after several seconds. "Start the next step."

Craig leaned forward and stuck his arms into the armored sleeves. He allowed himself to bend until he felt his hands slip onto the gloves. The armor around the wrists tightened, signaling him his arms were in place. He straightened up until he felt the back armor fit into place around his spine and the chest section slide into place and lock.

"Any problems?" Sylia asked.

"I'm fine." Craig held up his right arm and examined it as he rotated it slowly. "Wow," he breathed. "It's hard to describe the feelings I have right now."

"Probably the same way I felt the first time I suited up," said Linna. "An incredible rush of euphoria that's enough to make you giddy."

"My heart is racing," Craig admitted.

"A proper seal on the upper sections of the suit confirmed," said Sylia. "Next step is the helmet."

Linna picked it up off the table and gave it to Craig "Good luck," she said softly before she turned, picked up the small table and carried it out of the chamber. The door closed behind her.

Craig looked down at the helmet. The slowly, he raised it and placed it over his head. He continued to pull until he felt something click and the helmet stop moving. It was dark in the helmet for a span of several heartbeats, then the HUD lit up as the helmet's electronics powered up.

"Wow," Craig breathed, looking at the room through the helmet's visor.

"Craig," said Sylia across his radio. "Can you hear me?"

The newest Knight Saber turned towards the observation window. "Loud and clear, boss."

"Good. Let's start with the right arm. I want you to raise it away from your body until its even with your shoulder." Craig did so and held the arm there. After several seconds, Sylia said, "Now, while keeping the arm at shoulder level, swing it forward so the arm is pointing towards me."

Craig did so, stopping once the arm was pointing at the window. Sylia nodded at him. "Now, while keeping your torso still, swing back your arm as far as possible...."

For the next hour, Craig followed Sylia's instructions, starting with simple arm movements. That was followed by the legs, then simple coordinated movements involving both arms or both legs, or an arm and a leg. From there, Sylia increased the complexity of the movements until Craig was doing an entire martial arts forms while wearing the hardsuit.

"That's it for tonight," Sylia finally said over Craig's radio. "Get out of the hardsuit and come to the control room."

By the time a thoroughly sweat-soaked Craig managed to extract himself from the hardsuit and walked into the control room, Sylia was looking over a large stack of print-outs. Linna tossed Craig a towel and a plastic bottle of juice. "He's something for replacing all that sweat."

"Thanks," he said, then glanced over at Sylia. "How does it look, boss?"

"About what I expected," she replied, not looking out from the readouts. "There are a large number of minor adjustments that have to be made, but no major concerns came up. How did it feel?"

"For the first time, I think I know how Bert felt when he put on his plate armor and went into battle for the first time as SkyKnight."

"The feeling that you were invincible?"

"Yea, like nothing could stop me. It scared the hell out of me."

Sylia glanced up at him. "Scared you?"

"Yes, scared me." He pause to sip from the bottle. "I'm not someone who likes to feel that way, because it's a false sense of security. When something's going good, I start to worry, because I know Murphy is around somewhere, getting ready to place that proverbial banana peel right in my path."

Sylia nodded slowly in understanding. "Sound reasoning, if somewhat unorthodox. Now that you've worn the hardsuit, do you think you can do the job?"

Craig nodded and sipped some more juice. "Once I get use to it, yes. It won't take long for the excitement to pass and I feel comfortable in it. Then there'll be another excitement phase when we get to the weapons systems, then the first mission. After that, I should be all right."

"Good. I think that's all for tonight. We'll go over the adjustments tomorrow morning and run another series of tests tomorrow evening."

"Fine by me." Craig stretched. "Now, if there isn't anything else, I'm going to take a shower and find a place to eat because I'm starving. Do either one of you want to join me?" He realized what he said only after he saw the looks of disbelief from the two women. "I-I didn't mean it that way!" he stammered "I-I meant for dinner, not the shower!"

"I'll join you!" said Linna quickly, then realized that she had the done the same thing as Craig had when she saw his face become flush. "I meant for dinner only," she continued a little slower.

Craig looked over at Sylia. "You coming along too?"

She shook her head. "I need to check some readouts and make sure everything's ready for tomorrow."

"What, you don't want to chaperon us?" asked Craig in mock outrage. "You're allowing us to be alone?"

"I trust you. I'm certain Linna's virtue has nothing to fear from you."

"It's not Linna's virtue I'm worried about."

The dancer punched Craig in the shoulder. "That's mean!" she said angrily.

"Yow! That hurt!" He rubbed the spot where she had hit him.

"Good!" she huffed. "Just for that, you can pick up the check for dinner tonight!" With that, she turned and stalked out of the control room.

"Do I have to say anything about getting involved?' Sylia asked quietly.

Craig shook his head. "It's dinner with a friend, nothing more. I'm not ready for that type of relationship."

"Good. I won't forbid it should such a relationship was to develop, but if it affects either one of your performances in the field, I will take steps. Understood?"

"Clear, Boss. I think you should get out of here yourself for the evening."

"I'll be fine."

"All right, but if you're not home when I get there, I'm bringing Mackie and we'll carry you out of here."

"I would like to see you try."

Craig smiled. "That sounds like a challenge to me."

"Don't think about it too hard."

"All right, but if later on tonight, you find yourself slung over a shoulder like a sack of rice, and carried out of here, don't blame me."

"Go take a shower, you're smelling up the place."

"Okay, Boss."

**************

To say that Mason was not in a happy mood when he stormed into the lab would be a little bit like calling GENOM Tower 'tall'. He was infuriated, the entire core of his white-hot anger centered around a man calling himself 'Bert Van Vliet'.

A man who somehow didn't exist.

Doctor Ming took one look at the Executive and immediately ordered everyone else out of the lab. The techs, now familiar with Mason's moods, didn't dawdle. The special assistant ignored them as they left hurriedly and showed no reaction as the heavy steel door was closed and secured behind him. All his attention was on this....bastard with no name.

It had quickly become clear that this name was a fiction, as the computers found no record of any Bert Van Vliet either visiting or living in the city in the last twenty years. The system had found one in Canada, but he was an older man with no possible connections to this phoney. Still, he had to resist the urge to have the man eliminated, for no other reason then sharing the same name.

But there had been fire in the man's eyes when he told Mason to leave, the veiled threat about Mason hiding behind his bodyguard had added to the insult. Somehow, with just a word and a look, this unknown man had gotten past the carefully crafted image Mason had nurtured for so long and struck deep. In short, the man had gotten under his skin, and quickly.

And he had stared there. Two weeks after the confrontation, magazines started arriving with the morning mail. By the fifth day, he was getting more then thirty a day, ranging from gardening to computer to skin magazines and lingerie catalogs. He had spent over three hours on the phone canceling subscriptions and giving the representatives as much grief as possible. His private email address was quickly choked with electronic newsletters and offers of hardcore porn. After having his Email changed three different time, there was still no improvement. The final straw was when his private phone line had somehow been published as a brand new phone sex hotline. After the third perverted call, he'd thrown the phone across his office, then went down and browbeat the people in the communications department into giving him a new phone number.

Somehow, Mason know that bastard was behind it.

[What is wrong?] The mental voice of Largo had become clearer in the last several days, one of the results of the team working to rebuild him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"A personal problem," Mason answered with a wave of his hand.

[Does this personal problem have a name?]

"He called himself Bert Van Vliet, but I can't find any record -"

[Describe this person.]

Mason looked at Largo for the first time. "What?"

[You heard me. Describe this Bert Van Vliet.]

"He's shorted then I am, compact, with dark hair and brown eyes, small nose, narrow chin."

[Enough.] Largo was silent. [How did you meet him?] After Mason finished explaining, the superboomer said, [Interesting. It appears our opponent has announce his presence.]

Mason gave the immobile boomer a blank stare. "I don't understand."

There was a hard edge to Largo's mental voice. [I am familiar with the name Bert Van Vliet. It is because of this Bert Van Vliet that I am in this condition. But the man who told you he was Bert Van Vliet is not the one I know.]

"It might not be the same man."

[He is not. But he used that name on purpose. He did it to tell me that he was here.]

"Who?"

[As I told you, I am from another dimension that is almost exactly like this one. Only that one had five Knight Sabers, not four. The fifth one was a male calling himself SkyKnight, who came out of nowhere. He destroyed several of my operations, and he was the one that delivered the coup d'état that sent me over the edge of GENOM Tower into the abyss. I was saved and sent here to prevent the Knight Sabers from winning again. But it's clear that someone has been sent to oppose me, someone who knows about SkyKnight and me.]

"What does this Van Vliet have to do with it?"

[You idiot!] Largo's voice was harsh and grating. [Bert Van Vliet WAS SkyKnight!]

Mason nodded, ignoring the insult for now. "Now I see. This man used the name to pass on a message."

[Exactly. This person is here to confront me.]

"That means he's joined the Knight Sabers."

[A good possibility. Are you continuing to scan the data that I told you to scan?]

Mason nodded. "I've narrowed the field down to three thousand, eight hundred and seventy names. I should have the names of all the Knight Sabers in another two days."

[Good. Did you try and get the names of the other members of the party with this person calling himself Bert Van Vliet from the restaurant?]

"The management refused to supply it, no matter what I tried. But I know the hostess was one Sylia Stingray."

If Largo had been able to move his face, he would have smiled. [It might be possible to access the restaurant's computer system and get the information that way,] he said carefully, not showing any emotion at Mason's news.

"I already tried, but their database is very secure. It would take an expert cracker to breech it."

[Then find an expert and crack it.]

"Do you think it's that important?"

[I do.]

"I'll see what I can do."

[Besides your 'problem', what else did come to see me about?]

"It's been decided that it'll be easier to transplant your brain to a new body then to rebuild your existing body."

[This rather sudden.]

"The Chairman himself ordered it. The matter was out of my hands before I know of it."

[Who suggested it?]

"Madigan. She managed to convince the Chairman that it would be faster and easier then rebuilding your current body."

[Easier to control in the old man's mind no doubt. When will it happen?]

"In a couple of days. At which point, you'll be assigned to me."

[What sort of body will I be placed in?]

"I authorized one of the shells from the Lazarus project. It won't be the same thing as your current body, but it should be superior to any other non-combat model in basic characteristics."

Largo sighed. [I guess there is not other option, is there? Very well, I look forward to speaking to you for real.] Mason nodded, his mind already working on Largo's suggestions. He turned and strode out of the lab.

The cyberdroid waited until the door slid behind Mason before he made his move. In the haste to clear the room, a tech had made a small mistake. A cable, running from the cylinder to a monitoring computer had been left plugged in. With the speed of thought, Largo sent a part of his awareness through the open path and into the computer. There, it camouflaged itself and waited. He knew the standard procedure would involve transferring the readings from the monitoring computer to a mainframe. Once in the mainframe, he could find a away to access GENOM's network.

He smiled mentally. In a twist of fate, his first acts in the GENOM network would be delaying Mason's attempt to discover the identities of the Knight Sabers. Some deletion of data here, some data moved there, certain names removed from lists to be replaced with new ones would add months to the search. An necessary deception, if his plans were to bear fruit.

Both sides knew this alliance was out of exigency, with either side ready to rid themselves of the other at the first opportunity. If the executive discover the Saber's identities too early, Largo's value would fall precipitously, maybe to the point where he would be considered a liability instead of an assert. That could not happen. There was only one person who had the right to kill the Knight Sabers and their new ally.

And that person was Largo....

**************

Sylia was accurate in her assessment of how long it would take for Craig to learn how to use his hardsuit. The final adjustments took another two days to complete, then the next fortnight was spent in learning how to move and fight in the armor. Again, Linna was the one doing most of the teaching, with Sylia monitoring. Whenever their schedules permitted it, Priss and Nene would drop by and watch.

Under the watchful eye of both the knight's leader and the team's close combat specialist, Craig gradually became accustomed to the hardsuit. He felt the smooth response of the armor as he went through a martial arts form at full blast, the moves amplified, so as to make the form look even more powerful and dangerous. The suit's strength was also impressive - aided by the suit's muscular system, Craig could press in excess of seven hundred kilos over his head. The twin lasers worked from the first, but the lasers sword took some extra work so it would slide easily from it's arm sheath.

The modular weapons systems were also bought in and test-fitted to the suit. After some discussion, it was decided to make the bazooka the default weapons system against rampaging boomers. The other weapons systems would be stored until needed. Never the less, Craig was drilled on all three weapons systems, learning to move and fire as well as other mundane, but essential things about weapon maintenance and care. He learned to clear a possible jams from the weapons in record time, honed his marksmanship so he could hit moving targets moving erratically, and ran the targeting software through every situation he and Sylia could think of.

When he wasn't involved in Knight Sabers' business, Craig was working at getting his new business going. Sylia's contacts cleared away most of the red tape, and less then a week after he'd bought the five-story building, work started on the renovations. His sketchy ideas were quickly converted into full scale plans for a business and living space for the owner. Once the renovations started, Craig was constantly on the phone with possible suppliers, seeking deals and generally doing everything else a new business should be doing. With Sylia's guidance, he quickly lined up everything he needed.

The harassment of Mason continued. The magazine subscription continued, though at a slower pace, as the team started running out of magazines to subscribe Mason to. With a bit of creative hacking, Nene managed to cross telephone lines inside GENOM, so Mason's newest phone number was now listed as the main phone line for GENOM's customer service and vice versa. The GENOM Email server was infected with a virus that appended any Email coming or going from Mason's office with the phrase, 'MASON IS A MORON!'. when that virus had been cleared, another virus replaced it, this one alternating lines of text with lines of an obscene limerick implying Mason was an eunuch with a boomer fetish. Nene had found a way into the maintenance subsection of GENOM"s mainframe computer system, and will a little help from Craig and Mackie, reprogrammed several of the maintenance boomers with instructions to be carried out over a period of weeks.

"Isn't this a bit extreme?" Sylia asked after Craig outline the plan with the maintenance boomers. They were sitting in her living room, a pot of tea between them.

"I don't know," Craig replied. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Has it ever occurred to you that if he finds out who your are, he's going to kill you?"

"He has to find me first."

"He has access to every major database on the planet. Sooner or later, he's going to find out who you are."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"It might be for the best."

"All right, I will curtail the harassment, but not stop it completely. Keeping Mason off-balance is important."

Sylia gave him a small smile. "From what I've been able to find out my sources inside GENOM, you are definitely having an effect. Mason is not in a pleasant mood these days."

"And Mother said I wouldn't amount to anything," said Craig with a grin. Then, more seriously, he said, "Backing off will be helpful in a couple of ways. First, it give us a chance to put together another pack of dirty tricks for future use. Really nasty stuff that needs to be planned out first."

"You will not run any new dirty tricks without my permission."

Craig took a sip of tea. "I can live with that. But there will come a time when we'll need any advantage we can get. If we have a set of tricks all ready to go when we need them, we can plan the right time to use them. Second, a sudden curtailing might be even more effective then piling it on. It make him wonder if I've stop or I'm planning something really big." He grinned. "He'll stay nervous for a while, and then when he thinks it's over...."

"Why are you so set on doing this?" Sylia asked him. "Why are so intent on making Mason's life miserable?"

"Because I have to do something to prove my worth around here. I'm not an engineer, so I can't help design and build the technology that we use. My grip on practical strategy and tactics is probably the worse on the team. You, Priss and Linna can outfight me, Nene and you can out program me, heck even Nene contributes more to the team with her good looks and outstanding brain. I'm not good looking, so I'm forced to rely on my intelligence and imagination."

"You have a very cruel imagination," said Sylia.

"It comes from thinking about what I could do to some stupid jackass I've had the misfortune of meeting in the past. This is the first time I've ever had the nerve to do something about it though."

"Lucky us."

"Would have rather had SkyKnight?"

Sylia arched an eyebrow. "I can't answer that. From what I've read, you and he bring two different mindsets to the Sabers. Both have their place and time, but given the circumstances, I would prefer your mindset. If the circumstances were different, then maybe Bert's would be a better choice."

"Fair enough." Craig stood. "I've got another round of calls to make. I'll tell the others about giving Mason some breathing room for the time being. But I want to continue the stuff with the maintenance boomers, just to keep him on edge."

"I will allow that. I find myself rather...interested in Mason's reaction to this."

"Consider it a down payment on what he's done."

"That is one of the reason why I'm still allowing you to continue this."

After Craig left, Sylia stared out the windows of her apartment. She was beginning to understand Ishmael's reason for his choice of Avatars, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing....

******

It was halfway into the third week before the all the Sabers went out on a training mission outside the confines of the garage. That basically consisted of a high tech version of hide and go seek combined with laser tag and foxes and hounds among the condemned buildings and abandoned businesses of the area of the city called the Fault.

To keep them from killing each other, the lasers and knuckle bombers were powered down to a fraction of their normal strength, the gauss needlers and autocannons were without ammo, while the suit's on-board computers were modified to record and transmit simulated hits by needles and other projectile weapons to both the attacker and the defender. Transponders were turned off, though they could be activated with just a word, as was the emergency channel. Some precautions were necessary, but there was still a risk of something unexpected happening, which was why Mackie was sitting in the truck acting as an overseer and umpire in tonight's training.

Because of the training mission, Craig hardsuit wasn't equipped with his heavy weapons packages. Instead, a targeting laser was installed in the shoulder mount. With a simple resetting of a switch, the laser could simulate the bazooka, the rocket launcher, or the sniper weapon.

By an almost unanimous vote, Craig was chosen as the 'fox' and given a five-minute head start. If he could avoid the other Sabers for half an hour, or if he could 'kill' the other four, he would win. Then another Saber would be chosen and the whole game would start over again. The one with the worst time would have to buy dinner the next night.

This was why Craig was skulking around a back alley at a couple of minutes past midnight. It had been ten minutes since he'd dashed off into the night and he knew the other were already on his trail. He's stuck to the alleys for the most part, as he figured that the others would start from the rooftops and work their way down.

There was no light in the alley, so he had to rely the starlight filters in his helmet to see anything. By concentrating what little ambivalent light there was, the alley looked as it would at about dusk, instead of the pitch blackness that was actually there. The trash and rubble was ankle deep, and for the tenth time in as many minutes, Craig was grateful for the suit's filtering systems, as the smell was probably atrocious.

Moving slowly, he reached the mouth of the alley. He scanned the rooftops slowly, switching between starlight, infrared and ultraviolet filters. Not seeing anyone, he checked the alley across the street. No one.

Taking a deep breath, he started across the street at a flat-out run. He was two-thirds of the way across when he saw two hardsuit land in front of him. The blue hardsuit's arm came up, ready to fire while the green hardsuit readied herself to react to Craig's next move.

The black hardsuit fired up his jump jets and sprang into the air, his own lasers tracking Priss. She got off a short burst that the computer reported as missing, while his own barrage registered a slight graze on her right leg.

Just then, something slammed into Craig. Something solid hit him in the midriff, and he realized that Linna had just nailed him while he was concentrating on Priss He caught a flash of lime green and found himself flying in the direction he had just come from. Cursing at himself, he managed to get off several laser shots at the pair before he slammed into the street.

The sudden impact stunned him, his vision blurred and he felt disconnected. His lungs, emptied by the sudden impact, struggled with trying to bring in air to replace it. By the time his scrambled brain cells sorted themselves out, both Linna and Priss were standing over him. "You're dead," said Priss gleefully over the secure channel.

"Tell me about it," moaned Craig, struggling to sit up. "What the hell did you hit me with, Linna? A truck?"

"Nope, just a kick."

"Will you watch it next time? My stomach feels like it tried to wrap itself around my backbone."

"Is there a problem?' asked Sylia. She landed near the trio, Nene right behind her.

Craig stood up slowly. "Just a simple misunderstanding, Boss."

"What sort of misunderstanding?"

"Linna thought I was a soccer ball. Nothing serious."

"Are you all right?" asked Nene.

"I'm fine. My pride took a shot in the head though."

"You managed to last six minutes, twelve seconds," said Sylia. "Almost as long as Nene did her first time out."

"You mean he beat my record?" the redhead asked gleefully.

"By a full thirty-five seconds." Sylia looked at her close-combat specialist. "Linna, you're next. Five minute head start starting now."

The olive and orange hardsuit dashed off into the darkness. Once Linna was out of sight, Sylia turned back towards Craig. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll be fine, but I think I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

"Can you continue? If not, you'd better go back to the truck."

"And miss a chance at revenge? No way."

"Fine, you pair up with Priss. When Linna's time is up, I want you two to start directly after her. Nene and I will move parallel to you. If she turns towards Nene and me, I want you two to move in fast behind her and try to restrict her running room. If she tries to move away from us, try and hold her in place long enough for us to get there. Keep the radio chatter to a minimum and be prepared for anything. Do you understand?"

Both Priss and Craig nodded. "All right," said Sylia. "Get ready to move out."

*************

Much to Craig's disgust, Linna lasted twenty-three minutes, seventeen seconds before Priss managed to 'kill' her with a flurry of needle shots. But before that, Linna managed to again 'kill' Craig, this time with her monoribbons, which, if they had been active, would have sliced Craig into three uneven chunks. Priss prevailed for nearly twenty minutes before Sylia got what the computers termed a 'crippling shot.' Nene survived for only twelve minutes before she 'died'.

On the other hand, not only did Sylia survive the entire thirty minutes, she managed to 'kill' both Craig and Nene, she came close to taking out the other two Sabers as well. She was the only one of the five that still looked fresh when they climbed into the truck and removed their helmets. As soon as the doors slammed shut, Mackie put the truck into gear and started back to the Silky Doll.

Craig, sitting on a bench, leaned back and closed his eyes. "That was humbling," he said.

"Guess who's buying dinner tonight," said Linna with a smirk.

"Don't remind me. Any choice for the restaurant, or do I get to chose that too?"

"Your choice."

"Fine. I'll see what I can cook up. Any no-nos I should know about?"

"As long as the food is great, who cares?"

************

Craig was out of the penthouse most of the next day, doing what he termed 'personal stuff'. When the rest of the team assembled at Sylia place, Craig was still out somewhere.

"He's going to be late," Priss muttered.

"He'll be here," Nene replied, trying to look cheerful.

"Did he tell you where his was going?" Linna asked Sylia.

The leader of the Knight Sabers shook her head. "He was rather evasive, but he did promised he would host dinner and take care of all the arrangements."

Just then the phone rang. Mackie reached over and answered it. "Yes?"

Craig's grinning face appeared on the vidphone "Everyone there?"

Sylia leaned over her brother's shoulder. "Where are you? We're waiting for you so we can go out to dinner."

"Come to the building on the corner of Koukai and Twenty-Third Street., drive in and park around the side. I'll meet you at the elevator. See you in about fifteen minutes." With that, the screen went black.

"What was that all about?" Linna asked.

"And what's he doing?" added Priss.

"I have my suspicions," replied Sylia.

"This isn't some sort of trap, or something like that?"

"No, nothing as sinister or elaborate as that."

"Then what?" asked Nene.

"Let's go and find out."

******

It took the five of them slightly more the twenty minute to travel the ten blocks north to Koukai and Twenty-Third Street. The building was a five-story, brick and stone affair with an extra floor added to one half of the structure. It had originally been a warehouse when it was built fifty years ago. Now, from the construction fence that surrounded the property and the unused materials piled up in the empty part of the lot, there was some major new work being done on the structure.

There was an open construction gate on the side of the building with the extra story, so Sylia drove through it, followed by Priss on her motorcycle, then Linna, Nene, and Mackie in Linna's van. The lot was mostly dirt, but the signs of new construction was very visible in the form of newly built walls and additions to the warehouse, Beside the two cars and the Priss' motorcycle, the only other vehicle in the lot was a sleek black sports car parked near an addition that jutted out of the older building. They all parked next to the black car and got out.

"What's the idea?" asked Priss and she slid her helmet off. She glanced over at Sylia. "Do you know what's going on?"

The sound of a machine being started caught their attention. There was a garage door-size opening in the side of the building about five meters away, and the sound emanated from there.

"What the hell?" Priss snarled, reaching for her gun, only to be stopped by Sylia.

"Wait a moment," Sylia said calmly.

"For what?" asked Linna.

The noise stopped, followed quickly by something metallic being pushed aside. After several seconds, Craig walked out of the opening, followed by two large German Shepards. He was dressed causally in shirt and jeans, and wearing an apron splatted with some red substance. "Hi guys!" he said, a big smile on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Priss snarled.

He stopped, but the two dogs continued until they stood next to him, one on each side. "Getting dinner ready, what else?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't we go inside and I'll explain everything."

He and the dogs lead the others inside the building. This part of the construction was almost complete, so there was very little in the way of construction material lying around. The silence in the night air was startling, considering the fact there was a major road less then thirty meters away.

"What's this room for?" asked Linna, her voice slightly hallow from the echo in the room.

"A garage," Craig replied, leading them towards a large elevator in the far left corner of the of the room. "I'm not going to leave my brand new car out in the open if I can help it."

"That black car out there is yours?' asked Nene.

Craig nodded, grinning. "Well, mine and the bank's for the next couple of years."

"A bit overlarge for one car," Priss said, glancing around the room.

"Well, I plan to have a workroom down here and one or two other things." He looked at Sylia. "Nothing sensitive or questionable."

"I believe you," the leader of the Knight Sabers said.

"I thought there would still be some work going on," said Linna. "With the construction boomers, they can get the job done faster."

Craig shook his head. "I'm not taking any chances. Everyone knocked off at six, and I refused to have any construction boomers stored on site after hours, but they'll be here bright and early tomorrow."

"How much longer?" asked Sylia, noticing that several walls were partially completed.

"It's going to be another three weeks before the lower floors are going to be ready for business, but the top floor is just about done."

"Done for what?" asked Nene.

"For me to live in."

"You own the building?" asked Linna in shock.

"Yep. What you're looking at here on this side of the building is going to be a two story bookstore, while the other half is going to have a music store on the ground floor, and above that, a coffee house." He pointed straight up. "The top floor on this side is my new home, while the floors below are going to have some small apartments. I'll give you all the grand tour after dinner."

By now, they'd reached the elevator. Before they got on, Craig held up a hand. "Could I please ask you to come past me one at a time? I need to put some security basics into place."

"What are you talking about?" asked Linna.

Sylia strode over to Craig. She looked at the dogs, then at Craig. "Yours, I presume?"

Craig nodded. "Pick them up this afternoon." He patted the head of the dog sitting on his left. "This is Rommel. And this one here," he continued, scratching the head of the dog on his right, "is Patton."

"K-9 boomers, I presume?"

Again, Craig nodded. "I'm picking up two more next week, Montgomery and Zhukov."

"An interesting selection of names."

"You noticed."

Sylia raised an eyebrow. "All named after famous World War Two generals."

"I was thinking of making each dog a separate breed that reflected their names, but I finally decided on four German Shepards. I managed to talk the dealer into giving me a discount."

"Why the security?" Nene asked, looked at the dogs.

Craig looked serious again. "This is a very dangerous city," he replied. "I want to make sure my base is secure before I do anything else. The dogs are for my own personal security and the building's. In addition, I'm having the walls of this place reinforced, and the windows are going to be a composite material that's very resistant to impact. There will also be a state of the art security system in place."

"So what does your security have to do with us?"

"You're the only people I know in this city that I trust. You've trusted me, it's only fair that I trust you." Craig tapped Rommel on the head. "Rommel, Patton," he said in a low sharp voice. "Command sequence Overlord. Recognize Sylia Stingray, Command level Alpha." Both dogs' eyes flashed red for a second. Rommel stepped forward, carefully sniffed Sylia's hand, then licked it and stepped back. Patton did the same thing. "Sylia, if you could please wait in the elevator?"

It took another two minutes for the dogs to record the others into their memories. Priss was not pleased at being sniffed at or licked by the dogs, but Craig said. "I checked and a K-9 has NEVER gone berserk or on a rampage, so they're safe." After Mackie was cleared by the dogs, Craig and the four-legged boomers entered the freight-sized elevator. Craig pushed a large red button marked as '5' and the elevator rose slowly.

"What was the 'Command level Alpha' you gave us?" asked Sylia over the din of the elevator.

"You will have full access to all levels of this place, at any time."

"Why would we want that?" asked Linna.

"I'll show you after dinner."

There was no access to the second floor from the elevator, Craig explaining that there would be another elevator installed on the other side of the building that would go to the second floor and the apartments. The elevator grounded to a stop on the fifth floor and Craig pulled the mesh back. "Welcome to my new, humble abode," he said with a flourish.

The are in front of them was bare of any furnishings. To the right was the building's outer wall, the old red and black brick still solid despite the years. To the left was open. Craig lead them around the corner and onto the floor itself. He pointed to a set of doors on the opposite side of the room from the elevator shaft. "My front doors. Both they and the elevator will be installed with a coded entry system that will let you in when I'm not around."

"Impressive," said Sylia, looking around. "What's this area going to be?"

"A combination training hall and game room. As you can probably guess, this part is an addition to the warehouse." Craig waved them towards a large double archway in the wall to the left of the front doors. "The rest of the living space is through there."

The entire floor was wide open, running almost the entire length of the building, divided up into six or seven areas by low walls, whose brickwork was more uniform in color than the original walls. Sylia noticed the ceiling had been lowered somewhat, but there was still plenty of room. The windows that were spaced out along the longer sides of the building were tall and narrow, like archers slits in old castles. A pair of larger windows were placed in the far wall, overlooking a raised floor that occupied the center of the same wall. In the far left corner, a spiral staircase lead upward to the roof, while to the right of the raised area, two new brick walls joined to farm another smaller room in that corner. The room was partially furnished, but it still looked somewhat bare. Light was supplied by several hanging lights spaced out along the walls, and the concrete floor was sprinkled with thick carpets.

Craig lead them towards the middle of the large room, where a large free standing, stone fireplace stood. "I've still got a lot of stuff to bring in, and I won't be staying here for another week or so," he said, grinning at the others, "but when I've done it up, I think you guys will like it."

He pointed to the first area right of the entranceway, which was empty now. "That's going to be my office and library." The area next to it, on the same side of the room was clearly a living area, complete with chairs, sofas, tables and a large screen TV. "The raised area back there," he continued, waving in that direction, "is my sleeping area, and that brick walls there next to it form the walls of the bathroom and wash room."

Next to the bathroom was a large open kitchen that sat opposite the living area, and next to that, sitting to the left of the entranceway was a dining area, complete with a set table and cabinets around the perimeter of the area. The aroma of food drifted towards them, and suddenly everyone remembered they were suppose to be having dinner.

Craig rubbed his hands together. "Why don't you all take a seat, I'll get the last couple of items, then we can eat. Okay?"

*************

Dinner was a congenial affair - a 'typical Italian meal,' as Craig described it. 'Stuffed' was Nene's reaction. Stuffed shells with meatballs and tomato sauce, (which explained the red on Craig's apron) side salad, potatoes, green beans, and a single bottle of wine made the next ninety minutes pass quickly but pleasantly.

Sylia, who was sitting at the far end of the table, finally wiped her lips with her napkin and asked, "Can we have the tour now?"

"Sure." Craig stood. "You've seen the penthouse, let's start in the basement. Rommel, Patton, come!"

The two canine boomers, who had been lying next to the fireplace throughout dinner, instantly got on their feet. Craig led everyone to the elevator and ushered everyone in. Once the doors were closed, he placed his thumb on a small section of the elevator panel. Instantly, the area around his thumb lit up.

"A fingerprint reader," said Sylia.

Craig nodded. "Mine's the only one in the system right now, but the rest of you will be put in over the next two weeks."

"You have something down there you don't want other people to know about."

"Not yet, but I wanted to show you what I found." the panel beeped and the elevator started down.

The trip down was longer then the trip up. When the car stopped, Craig opened the doors into a sea of darkness and coolness, the only light coming from the elevator's internal light. He felt along the wall until he found what he was looking for. Light from several overhead lights flared into life, driving away the darkness. The room was large, about three quarters the size of Craig's new home, cool and empty.

"So?" asked Priss. "What's so great about an empty room?"

"The fact it doesn't exist on any of the plans I've seen for this building," said Craig with a shrug. "We're under the regular basement, so there's no reason to suspect this place exists."

Sylia turned to look at him. "A secret room?"

"It gets better." He strode to the far end of the room. A steel door was in the shadows of the wall. "This," he said tapping the door lightly, "leads out into the sewer system."

"And how do you know about this place?" asked Priss, suspicion etched in her expression..

"One of the construction supervisors showed it to me last week. He told me his father had been a policeman in the mid 2010's and had been involved in a raid on this place during that time. Seems the Yakuza was using this as a drug lab back then."

"You think this would be a good place for a Knight Saber's base?' asked Sylia.

"As a backup, in case something happens to the Silky Doll or Raven's. A place of refuge in case one of us gets into serious trouble."

"It's kind of cold down here," said Nene, trying to lose herself in her coat.

"Tell me about it," agreed Linna.

"I know," Craig replied. "As soon as I can find a way, I want to add some extra heating and water pipes leading down here."

"I know a couple of discreet contractors that you could contact," said Sylia. "Mackie, what do you think?"

The younger Stingray looked around. "We wouldn't have the room like we do at Raven's or the Silky Doll," he admitted. "But I think we can set up a decent repair and rearming center, maybe even an emergency hardsuit storage place, and still have some room for cots and other emergency supplies."

Sylia looked around. "How do we get stuff down here without anyone noticing?"

"I'm expecting several truckloads of furniture over the next week. It wouldn't be too hard to slip in an extra truckload or two into that, especially if we have them all leave the stuff in the garage."

The leader of the Knight Sabers nodded. "I'll think about it some more, but I like the idea. Mackie, how soon could we have this place up and ready to go?"

"A week to get the necessary stuff, and another week to set it all up....Definitely by the end of the month."

Sylia nodded. "Craig, what else do you have to show us?"

"Well nothing much in the way of Knight Saber's business," replied the older man, "but I think you'll be impressed with the cover business I'm putting together. If you will follow me back to the elevator...."