Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Ultimate Bubblegum Crisis ❯ The Beginning - Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer:

I do not own the characters from Bubblegum Crisis and Ultimate X Men. I am using the characters to tell a story purely for enjoyment and not for any profit whatsoever.

 

Author's Note:

This fan fiction is a crossover between Bubblegum Crisis (the OVA) and the Ultimate X Men. These X Men are the next generation of Xavier's students, since it is 2032, but are for the most part recognizable and what I consider the logical next step for the team. Any comments, constructive criticism, or ideas for story arcs I can do with these characters would be greatly appreciated. You can reach me at blehx26@yahoo.com.

 

 

Legend:

“-“ = Speech

< thinking> = Thought

 

 

Ultimate Bubblegum Crisis - The Beginning Part 1

 

MegaTokyo - 2032

 

 

 

A young man huddled beneath the meager cover of an old refrigerator box, as rain came down in torrents and soaked everything in the alley. At the entrance of the alley two forms with glowing red eyes entered the confined space, the rain ignored as they moved through the trash and debris.

 

“The sensors are being screwed by all the shit in the rain.” One modulated voice complained.

 

“Can't be helped. We know the little bastard is back here, so just stay sharp.” Another modulated voice replied.

 

“Hey, I think I saw movement over there!” the first modulated voice said. The sound of heavily shod feet splashing through the puddles got closer to the teenager hidden in the box.

 

< Oh God, they've found me! > The teenager thought. He tried in vain to scrunch himself deeper into the box away from his pursuers. < I've run out of places to hide. >

 

In the box a sound like that of a sword being unsheathed came from outside, quickly followed by the rending of metal. The screech of metal being shredded drowned out the sound of the downpour and the hidden young man peeked outside of his concealment. Silhouetted against the light of a street lamp at the opening of the alley, stood the shape of a man. At his feet were two unmoving forms, and from his hands metallic claws protruded, the minimal light present in the alley glinting off their surface.

 

“You can come out now, kid.” The figure said.

 

“Are you going to kill me?” the cowering young man asked.

 

The silhouette walked over to the young man and kneeled down before him. “No, kid, I'm not going to kill you. In fact I'm here to get you to someplace safe away from these people hunting you because you're a mutant. I know a place where you can learn to control your abilities and be safe from persecution. Name's Logan.” Logan said holding out his hand to help the young man up, the metal claws resheathed in his forearms.

 

“I-I'm Shiro. Shiro Yoshida.”

 

“Alright, Shiro, let's get the Hell out of here.” Logan said as he began to lead Shiro out of the alley. Shiro just stood there looking at the bodies by Logan's feet, a look of shock and revulsion stamped on his face.

 

“Don't worry kid, they weren't human. They were boomers, assassin class as a matter of fact. Now come on, we need to get out of here before the other members of the hunter team realize what I did to their mates.”

 

That seemed to snap Shiro from his state of horror and he followed Logan to the opening of the alley. Logan stopped at the corner, an arm restraining Shiro as he peered down the neon streets of Mega-Tokyo. Even in the torrential downpour, the streets were fairly busy. People milled about, their umbrellas creating a luminescent sea of half ovals, wetly glowing in the man-made light of the storefronts. About a block down the street Logan could see a man who was obviously the boomers' human handler. The man appeared to be working very hard at trying to get his point across to an unnaturally large man.

 

< Dammit, he's got a combat boomer with him. > Logan thought to himself. “Shiro, we are going over to that bike and leaving. Don't look around and just do as I say, got it?”

 

The boy nodded his affirmative and Logan pulled his leather jacket off and handed it to Shiro. “Put that on, it will hide your mutant signature from their sensors, or so my friends tell me.”

 

The jacket on the boy, Logan checked the location of the handler and the combat boomer. The two were still down the block, but headed their way. < It's now or never. >

 

“Here we go, kid.” Logan said as he led Shiro to his motorcycle parked just outside the alleyway. The two of them got onto the bike, with Shiro pulling on the only helmet. Logan glanced over his shoulder to check on Shiro and noticed the handler pointing in his direction and the hulking form shucking his false skin, revealing the B-55c combat boomer hidden beneath. The 55c looked in their direction and began to move towards them, increasing speed with each step.

 

“Shit! Hang on, kid!” Logan said as he gunned the throttle and headed towards the onramp of a nearby highway. The motorcycle accelerated to well over 300 kph once Logan was able to merge onto highway number nine, which was almost devoid of traffic at that late hour. Slowly but surely the boomer was left behind in the rear view mirror and Logan pulled off the highway into the area of Mega-Tokyo known as Tinsel City. Logan only slowed as much as necessary and wove through the traffic still on the roads, and eventually he pulled the bike into a private underground parking garage.

 

Logan parked the bike in a space near the elevator and wiped the water from his face. “We're safe for now Shiro. You can let go of my sides now, kid.”

 

Shiro, who had just opened his eyes after the harrowing ride had finally ended, released the death grip he had on Logan's waist and removed the helmet.

 

“I am sorry Logan. Thank you for saving me.” Shiro said.

 

“Not a problem, Shiro. How's your English anyway?”

 

“I think it is not too bad.” Shiro responded to Logan in English as he dismounted the bike.

 

“It's pretty good, kid. You're going to need it, `cause you need to get out of Japan for a while. Those hunters aren't going to give up because we evaded them tonight. They want you kid, because you are a mutant, and that makes you a commodity. It sucks, but that is the way it is.” Logan said as he also climbed off the motorcycle.

 

“May I ask you a question, Logan?” Shiro asked, still in shock from the events of the evening.

 

“Sure.”

 

“I know they want me because I am a mutant, but why are you helping me? I appreciate the assistance, but why?” Shiro asked.

 

“First of all, I'm a mutant too, and I know what it's like to be viewed as an asset. Secondly, I was given a chance at redemption about thirty years ago and I'm still trying to be worthy of that chance. And last, but not least, a beautiful young woman asked me to find and help you. I can't say no to pretty ladies, especially this one.” Logan replied. “Why don't you come on out and say hello to your cousin, Mariko?”

 

“Good evening, Shiro.” A woman responded from the shadows. She took a couple of steps towards the bike to reveal a beautiful Japanese woman in a leather jumpsuit, an X emblazoned on her belt buckle.

 

“M'iko? Is that you? But I thought you were at University?” Shiro stammered.

 

“I am at university, Shiro, but not the kind you thought. Shiro, I'm a mutant like you and at the school I attend I am learning how to use my powers and blend into society. It is the place I want to take you.” Mariko said to her younger cousin. “The hunters won't go there. It is in the United States, a school named Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.” Sensing the indecision in the boy, Mariko continued, “Shiro, I have already spoken with your parents and they are sending the necessary forms for your enrollment. They approve.”

 

“Father and Mother approve? But Father said he had no son when he found out that I am a mutant.” Shiro replied. Behind Shiro, Mariko could see Logan's face set in a stern mask of disapproval.

 

“Your father and I had a…talk. He understands that you need to learn how to control your new abilities, so he agreed that Xavier's is the best place for you Shiro. Are you going to come with me, Shiro?” Mariko asked.

 

“I'll come with you M'iko.” The teenager said, all the while trying to keep control of his emotions. He walked over to his cousin who turned and began to lead the young man off, an arm around his shoulders. Mariko looked back and saw the look of consternation on Logan's face.

 

“Shiro, would you wait by the elevator for me?” Mariko asked. Shiro nodded and walked over to the elevator.

 

Mariko watched her cousin until he was out of earshot and asked, “What's the problem Logan?”

 

“There's a combat boomer out there and you and I both know the ADP can't handle it. I have to help them, Mariko.” Logan responded.

 

“Logan, the Black Bird is waiting on the roof. Our window for departure is not going to be open for much longer.”

 

“I know M'iko. I'm staying for now. Tell Charles I'll be in touch.” Logan said as he stepped closer to Mariko. “Kids are being used for someone's personal gain. I'm going to help the ADP in anyway I can, then the son of a bitches who are after these kids and I are going to have a conversation.”

 

“Just be careful, Logan.” Mariko said with a concerned look. She stepped into an embrace with Logan, and pulled him as close as she possibly could. Her head tilted back to look into his eyes and they shared a tender kiss before Logan stepped back.

 

“You make it tough to stay, M'iko. Get going, kid, I'll be fine.” Logan said.

 

“I love you, Logan. I'll tell the professor about everything.” Mariko replied as she walked to where Shiro was waiting by the elevator doors.

 

“I love you too, M'iko.” He replied as he turned and mounted his motorcycle

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ ______

 

 

 

The beat of the music surged through the crowd. All in attendance could feel the energy build as Priss and the Replicants began the opening bars of Konya wa Hurricane; lights still dim in the club. With an explosion of light and sound, Priss was at the forefront of the stage, pouring her very soul into the song. Her lithe, young body moved with the music adding to the allure provoked by her costume, a small black leather mini-skirt, a red leather bustier, and red leather evening gloves. Any fans close enough to the stage could see the passion and fire that danced in her red-brown eyes as she sang.

 

 

Konya wa Hurricane

I kept racing down the stormy highway, searching
for the whereabouts of my interrupted dream,
letting all my lies and bitter illusions
blow off my back, with the wind.

We're all just lonely hearts in the big city,
everyone a child lost in love.
Day by day in the big city,
tears only aggravate thoughts that won't rest.

Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to tell you I love you.
Tonight... "Hurricane"
...touch me... "Hurricane"
...like you mean it.
"Touch!" "Give me Touch!"

I cannot share the pain in your heart
with darting words that merely placate.
I want you to tell me what it is
that makes your eyes cloud over.

In the big city, our hearts are all torn and tattered,
and we're tired of dancing around each other
at night, so in the big city's empty days,
we waited anxiously for a little warmth.

Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to tell you I love you.
Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to hold you once more.
"Touch!" "Burning Touch!"

We're all just lonely hearts in the big city,
everyone a child lost in love.
Day by day in the big city,
tears only aggravate thoughts that won't rest.

Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to tell you I love you.
Tonight... "Hurricane"
...touch me... "Hurricane"
...like you mean it.
"Touch!" "Give me Touch!"

Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to tell you I love you.
Tonight... "Hurricane"
...I want... "Hurricane"
...to hold you once more.
"Touch!" "Burning Touch!"

"Give Me Touch!"
"Burning Touch!"

 

 

As the song neared conclusion, a pretty young woman, her black hair held back by a yellow headband, made eye contact with Priss and pointed towards the exit. Priss nodded her acknowledgment and continued her song. The black haired woman made her way through the crowd to the exit.

 

Once outside, she walked up to a small box truck parked in front of the club. Behind the wheel of the truck sat a young woman with short black hair dressed in a conservative business suit.

 

“When she finds out this is a freebie, Priss is going to be angry, Sylia.”

 

“This one's acting strangely, Linna.” Sylia responded, her soft speech belying her cool, professional appearance.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ ______

 

 

 

The distinctive sound of high caliber gunfire ripped through the Mega-Tokyo night. A large blue metallic form stood at the center of what amounted to a war zone, surveying the carnage that it had perpetrated. All around the boomer were strewn the remains of an Advanced Police task force, some of the officers dead, while others were well on their way to their final rest. The boomer let out a roar of victory as the battlefield became silent.

 

From down the street a lone motorcycle sped, never veering from its' intended target, the boomer. The boomer seeing the oncoming-guided projectile began to target the bike and firing the laser cannon mounted on its right arm. Blast after blast zipped towards the oncoming motorcycle as it closed on the boomer, finally connecting when the bike was just fifteen feet away. The bike exploded in a shower of smoking parts that rained down around the blue boomer.

 

From the burning remnants of the motorcycle a form leapt, trailing smoke and with claws extended from both hands, gleaming orange in the light of the fires. Logan descended on the boomer like an avenging angel, his clothing and hair still smoldering from the explosion.

 

The boomer reacted with inhuman quickness, snapping its own claws into place and leapt towards Wolverine. The two met in the midair, a flurry of claws ripping and tearing at the opponents. Pieces of armor, as well as pieces of leather fell to the ground as the two combatants passed each other in a twisted recreation of ancient samurai battle. Each stopped after the pass and turned to face one another again. The right arm of the blue horror fell to the ground with a clang and the orange blood substitute of the boomer spouted from the stub of the missing appendage.

 

Calculations of probabilities ran through the computer brain of the boomer, judging the odds of continued operation in close combat against an opponent armed with admantium claws. The answer was clear to the boomer and became evident to Wolverine as he moved in on the boomer again to try and finish it. Mouth open, a cannon barrel appeared and spit out a stream of energy that caught Wolverine in the chest and sent him into the remains of a ruined ADP armored personnel carrier. Not detecting the previous threat from within the wrecked armored vehicle, the boomer ignited the jump jets on its calves and leapt to an overhead highway.

 

“Sonovabitch!” Logan swore as he pushed a large armor plate off of himself. His Kevlar-reinforced leather jacket was charred and burned completely through. Unfortunately, the energy beam did not stop with Logan's coat, the gleam of his admantium-laced sternum showing in the neon of the Mega Tokyo night. The smell of seared flesh and burnt leather assailed Wolverine's heightened senses as he hastily pulled the remnants of his destroyed, and still aflame, clothing off of his upper body.

 

Wolverine surveyed the wreckage strewn across the street and caught a glimpse of the retreating boomer. “You ain't getting away that easily, you bastard!” Wolverine said as he freed himself from the APC and ran over to a remarkably undamaged ADP motorcycle and headed for the on ramp for the highway, pushing the bike for all it was worth.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ ____

 

 

 

Leon McNichol, ADP Inspector First Class, stood on the highway overlooking the battle scene. The rogue combat boomer had jumped to his level and in all probability would have killed him had the Fire-Bee not opened up on it and caused it to flee down the highway. Then a motorcycle carrying an armored figured had whizzed past him, almost knocking him on his ass. But what did top off the whole situation was when another motorcycle had careened past him and had knocked him flat on his ass. < Well, at least Daley didn't see this. > Was all Leon could think while he picked his bike and set off after the boomer and its mystery pursuers.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

The combat boomer raced down the abandoned highway, carrying the 20 mm Vulcan cannon it had acquired from an unfortunate ADP Fire-Bee helicopter. Sensors went off in its heads-up display as it detected the presence of a pursuer that was actually gaining ground on it. The pursuer was on a racing motorcycle and wearing some form of power armor. Computations indicated that avoiding this conflict would allow for a higher survivability ratio, so the boomer poured on the afterburners as it attempted to avoid the armored figure behind it.

 

The figure began to retreat into the distance, only to be replaced by another armored form, this one in white armor and standing at the edge of where this highway had received major damage during the Second Great Kanto Quake of 2025. It had never been repaired due to the lack of need and extreme cost due to the new fault canyon the quake had created. The boomer attempted to run over the white armored figure and use it to cushion its fall as it landed in the canyon below, but she had another idea and easily sidestepped the onrushing boomer. Its jets still firing the boomer landed in a pile of debris from where the ruined roadway originally had fallen.

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

“Surround the boomer, Knight Sabers! Priss you go right, Linna to the left.” Sylia commanded from within her white armor.

 

“On it.” Came Priss' reply, her blue hard suit deftly moving into position.

 

“I'm there.” Linna said as she maneuver her olive colored hard suit to the boomer's right.

 

The boomer meanwhile had begun assimilating steel and other materials that the original highway had been built from and used the new resources to attach the 20 mm Vulcan to where its right arm used to be. A triumphant roar left its mouth as it picked up a manhole cover and sent it like an immense Frisbee at Sylia. Sylia caught the projectile easily and threw it back at the boomer.

 

Priss and Linna took to the air as the boomer changed tactics and brought the chain gun into play. The boomer initially began tracking the blue armored Priss, slugs flying through the air just a millisecond behind her. Linna took the opening this created and closed on the boomer and striking the boomer in the right side with her knuckle bomber.

 

The boomer lurched to the left from the knuckle bomb strike it had received; smoke trailing from the battered and broken armor that used to protect the boomer's flank. Priss, with practiced ease, took aim with her right arm on the wounded boomer and fired two rail gun spikes. The spikes took the boomer in either shoulder, driving it back into a section of the old highway that had never been cleared away, and embedded there.

 

Sylia, Priss, and Linna land near the boomer. “This is a totally new, advanced design. What are they up to?” Sylia asked to no one in particular.

 

Before either could say anything the boomer freed itself from the spikes, both arms left behind, pinned to the asphalt. Orange boomer blood fountained from the wounds, but the maddened boomer rushed forward with wild abandon. Sylia reacted first, and moved forward while engaging her palm cannon. With one smooth strike, Sylia drove her right hand up into the boomer and squeezed off one blast from the inside. The boomer stopped abruptly, slid off of Sylia's arm and lay motionless.

 

Sylia gazed down at the fallen machine at her feet and realized something as she stared at it. “This is a `C' class boomer!”

 

“A new type?” Priss asked.

 

“Yes.” She replied. Sylia looked around and noticed that the ADP helicopters were closing on the area. “Let's get out of here.” Sylia said. The Knight Sabers vacated the area without question as they followed their leader away from the scene of the battle.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ ____

 

 

 

From the shadows created beneath the ragged overhang of the highway, Wolverine watched the Knight Sabers dismantle the boomer. He had heard of the Knight Sabers, but their mercenary tendencies led him to believe that they wouldn't be a player in this.

 

“Guess the world still can surprise even me.” Logan said as he made his way through the debris and away before the ADP could notice him.

 

Just one level above Logan at the edge of the ruined highway, Leon McNichol sat astride his motorcycle watching the “mysterious Knight Sabers” make their getaway.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

An old man sat at a large black desk, his features hidden by shadow and a panoramic view of the metropolis known as Mega-Tokyo at night displayed behind him. Standing before him, his head bowed in deference stands a man dressed in a well tailored business suit. The old man ignored his subordinate, as he was engrossed in a conversation.

 

“Listen to me, Genom controls 68% of the world's automobile manufacturing. We make boomers for every possible occasion and that includes combat boomers. The sale of these combat models to the countries involved in the `Cold War' in Antarctica fuels the Japanese economy, so we are proud to build them. If you support us in this, I can assure you the minister's job.” The old man seemed to be listening for a moment, and then continued, “Good, I am pleased you see the wisdom in this matter. Good night.”

 

The old man steepled his fingers, a small smile spread on his face, giving him an almost feral look. He remained quiet for a moment then turned to the man standing quietly beside his desk.

 

“Well Mason? Where are the `acquisitions'?” the older man asked in a deep baritone voice.

 

“The quarry has eluded us with some unidentified assistance, Chairman Quincy. I apologize for the failure and take full responsibility. The teams will redouble their efforts to acquire more subjects. On a better note my agents acquired the doll earlier this evening without incident. The USSD will try to find it, but we will have full possession within 48 hours.” The man named Mason responded, his eyes still trained on the floor.

 

“Do not fail me, Mason. And do not leave any loose ends that may implicate Genom. Genom is a respectable company and the public perception must stay that way. Understood?” the last was more statement than a question, but Quincy awaited Mason's answer just the same.

 

“I understand, Chairman. I will not fail.” Mason replied. He bowed and exited the Chairman's office.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _____

 

 

 

Sylia Stingray glided through the water smoothly, the tension of the night's activities slowly flowing from her muscles as she swam. The swim had become something of a ritual for Sylia after a mission as a form of stress release. While her body began to relax, the events of the evening made her mind wander back to her childhood. Memories that Sylia tried to keep in the back of her mind flowed unabated to the surface, the images flashed by in rapid succession, a collage of how she came to fight the rogue boomers.

 

Sylia, as a child called her father while he was at the lab late one night under the pretense that her brother Mackie missed him. The first boomer built loomed in the background on the vid phone as Sylia spoke to her father.

 

~Flash~

 

Sylia stood outside her father's laboratory as it burned to the ground, emergency personnel all around her.

 

~Flash~

 

A data packet is delivered to Sylia. She inserts it into a terminal.

 

~Flash~

 

A stream of information flows into Sylia's mind. Technical specifications about boomers and the construction of hard suits mix together in a dizzying array of numbers and blueprints.

 

~Flash~

 

A man stood looking at her father's dead body, a smoking gun in hand as he smiled with obvious joy. Brian J. Mason.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

End of The Beginning Part 1