Chapter Text

Bubblegum Crisis - The Audio Drama

Blades - Episode 1

[00:03] [Prologue]

(BGM - Illegal Army: “Mega Tokyo 2034”)

NARRATOR: Ten years ago, the city of Tokyo died. It stood, in one form or another, for centuries. It had been the center of an economic power, and the hub of imperial terror. And in less than a minute, the city fell to ruin. They came to call it the “Second Great Kanto Earthquake”. Thousands died in the first moments, millions more in the despair that followed. In an age where governments had been superseded by boards of directors, the cries of the homeless and mourning went unheard. But the chance for profit, that could not be ignored. An international conglomerate of companies, a titan of commerce, made the restoration of Tokyo its crowning jewel. The Global Economic Network of Mankind, or the Genom Corporation as it was better known, brought forth a staggering change upon the ruined streets and fallen towers. They descended on the rubble, the men and machines of industry. They came by the hundreds, the thousands. In a land where the word for foreigner, gaijin , carried the unsubtle insult of racial purity, new names took root. New families settled. And that was not even the greatest change. Not all those who labored under the umbrella of Genom, were human. Cybernetic Androids, beings of steel and synthetic protein rebuilt the city, brick by brick and block upon block. These artificial laborers, the workforce of the next generation, were given a name for the economic boom they ushered in upon the world. In days past, the city of Tokyo may have been rebuilt in a matter of years. However, on the broad back of the Boomers, it rose anew in months. Of course, the story does not end there. Humanity didn't achieve a second Eden. While the new city of Megatokyo arose on the grave of the old, many were left to rot in the tomb. Those who could not afford the new glories of technology, or who did not trust governance by capitalism, or those who just fell through the cracks... they are the ones we don't see, the ones we in the civilized sections of Tinsel City and even the restored Yokohama don't talk about. They live in the Rift, the sections of Old Tokyo that Genom didn't see a reason to put right, and made worse by dumping their refuse within. For over a decade, this has continued, lurching forward into a new future…

(“Mega Tokyo 2034” fades out.)

[03:11] [Title Sequence]

(BGM - Bubblegum Crisis Tokyo 2040: “Y’Know - Instrumental Version”)

NARRATOR: Forward Momentum presents: Bubblegum Crisis: Megatokyo 2046 - The Story of the Knight Sabers.

(“Y’Know - Instrumental Version” ends.)

[03:42] [Scene 1]

NARRATOR: Afternoon, June 25th, 2046. The Rift section of Megatokyo.

PRISS (VO): My name is Priscilla S. Asagiri. At least, that’s what it says on my driver’s license. But you ever call me “Priscilla”, and I will beat you to death with your own arm. (BGM - Red Eyes: “Damage Heart”) My story is almost painfully standard for a Rift dweller. Mum was one of the few foreigners living in Tokyo when the quake hit. My dad was technically an American, but his ancestry was Japanese. He was a middle manager in some financial corporation or other. His job died the same day my mum did, and the quake kicked old Tokyo over like it had been built of wet sand. Dad never really found his feet after that - Mum was his world. She was mine, too. Dad tried - he tried so hard to provide for us. To raise me. Looking back, I can’t imagine what it was like for him. Trying to raise a young girl who so resented what happened. It didn’t help that all I wanted was my mum back. The words “heinous bitch child” don’t even begin to describe how I acted back then. I was angry. Pissed at the world that had stolen my mother, furious at my father for not somehow protecting her. As time wore on, it got worse. Eventually, one day he went out for a walk… and just never came back. Maybe he’s still out there, wandering the world and trying to rebuild his life - but maybe he just walked into the sea. A lot of people did in the first years. The corp bigwigs and mouthpieces want you to believe that Megatokyo is all shiny and better. It’s a load of crap. Sure, the parts of town that tourists see, that the suits see, that’s all modern and fine. But here, down in the part of Old Tokyo that literally dropped a hundred feet and would be underwater if not for a choking dyke wall of debris, where the rest of us live… “Live.” (Scoffs dismissively.) Right. Survive is more like it. We survive wherever there’s space. In old broken buildings that crumble if you look at them wrong, shelters cobbled together from whatever’s handy. The cops don’t come here. (Wry chuckle.) Not the normal cops, anyway. Sure those “Advanced Deployment Police” units do - but let’s face it, they’re just corporate thugs with badges, riot gear, and assault weapons. And even the AD Police don’t come here - except in packs. For a few years, I sort of lived as I could. Then, a couple of years ago, I got really lucky, and fell in with a gang. Don’t look at me like that, you’ve got the wrong idea entirely. People hear “gang” and think either young men shooting each other, or punks on motorcycles lighting things on fire. Sure, there are some out there that do that, but not so many anymore. Down in the Rift, the gangs are the closest thing we have to law enforcement. People who watch out for their homes, and the homes of their friends. No one else is gonna do it. Personally, I’ve never lit something on fire that wasn’t for warmth or cooking. But then, I did threaten you with your own limb. So maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle. (“Damage Heart” gradually fades out.) Like all gangs in the Rift, ours was technically a motorcycle gang. Mobility is key to covering territory in the poor sections of the megacity, and motorcycles are just cheaper to run and repair than cars. Besides, how many cars really say “rebel without a cause”, I ask you?

(Approaching footsteps.)

RICKY: Hey, Priss, stop messing with my bike.

PRISS (VO): Ricky D, my boyfriend, and extremely poor mechanic.

(Street traffic quietly passing in the background.)

PRISS: I’m not messing with it you jerk, I’m tuning it. I swear, the way you treat this thing, you ought to be ashamed. 

PRISS (VO): Rick was almost a decade older than me. It didn’t matter to us. Love has a way of softening minor objections. Rick was the guy who taught me to ride. He always had my back when it came to a tight spot, and I would always have his. He was the guy who made my heart sing - literally. Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a singer. Not some stupid pop idol. A real singer. My earliest memory is my mother singing to me when I was scared, and all the bad things melting away. When she died, I just… stopped. There wasn’t music in me anymore. Or so I thought. Rick had given it back to me.

RICKY: And you should be honored, I don’t let just anyone run their hands over my pretty girl. Or fiddle with her sensitive insides.

PRISS: Okay, you need to leave the jokes to the professionals. Speaking of, I’m just about done here. We really do need to get her into a proper mechanic soon. When I said she needed to go to a garage, I didn’t mean an unoccupied storage locker in the west end of the Rift.

RICKY: I know, I know. Guess she’s just too damn tight though. Maybe I’ll see if Old Man Raven will let me work it off.

PRISS (VO): Old Man Raven was a legend in Megatokyo. His garage was located near the south-east corner of the rift, in an industrial part of town. His skill, though, meant he had clients from all over the city. The crazy old coot was da Vinci with a wrench. He was also notorious for bargaining down to the last penny, but also having a heart of gold, and a soft spot for the gangs out for something other than profit.

PRISS: Speaking of working it off, where’s my payment, you old skinflint?

PRISS (VO): Rick got one of those heart melting smiles and reached around the wall. He came back with a lovingly preserved acoustic guitar, newly strung. The wood gleamed and my fingers itched to play.

RICKY: Go get yourself cleaned up first. Everybody’s waiting over at Rory’s anyway.

PRISS (VO): I grabbed a bottle of water and scrubbed off the grease at the unit sink. Then stripped off the dirty coveralls and skinned into the reinforced leather riding suit Rick had given me when I first got my motorcycle license. Five minutes later, we roared out onto the street, whooping for joy. 

(Motorcycles revving and riding away.)

[11:06] [Scene 2]

NARRATOR: Evening, the home of Celia and Mackie Stingray, Tinsel City section of Megatokyo.

(BGM - Moonlight Rambler: “Anri to Sylvie”. Water is gently sloshing.)

CELIA (VO): The water was still warm from the day, and the cool air made it doubly refreshing. I go to my rooftop pool often at night, when I want to be alone. The stresses of the day just melt away, as I swim lazily from side to side. Or just float, and try to imagine myself out amongst the stars. My name is Celia Stingray. If it sounds familiar, then you’ve most likely heard of my father, Dr. Carl Stingray. My father… depending on what you know about him, he’s either a genius, a prophet, or an artist. What I know about him, makes him a monster, on a frightening scale. He created life. No, not in the plain pedestrian way that families have created life since the dawn of time. I mean he created a new life form. A thinking, feeling, sentient life form. My father gave us the Cyberdroid. But then he died. Suddenly, and violently, in a lab explosion that destroyed his work and his notes. An accident that robbed my brother Mackie and I of our final parent. An accident, caused because my “genius” father, my prophetic father, had no idea who his backers were. My father was killed for his creation, make no mistake about that. What’s that? Never heard the word “Cyberdroid”? I’m not surprised, most haven’t. Those who inherited the new life my father brought into this world, they aren’t men of science, they’re men of commerce. In the Cyberdroid they saw great potential, especially in view of the devastation wrought by Mother Nature on the city of Tokyo itself. Simpler, stronger, and far less intelligent versions of my father’s creation were suddenly everywhere. The businessmen took their spark, their potential, and reduced it, made it into profit. On the bloody altar of the Cyberdroids’ creation, a new boom of industry echoed through the world. “On the backs of the Boomer the world was rebuilt”, as they say. And the cycle of slavery continued. It’s a machine, a toaster, a coffee pot, it’s not alive. No, not fresh from the dealer it isn’t. But in a year, two, after its memory core has learned new tasks, and experience after experience piled atop one another? Sparks flare from such tinder. And sparks become fire. Boomers occasionally malfunction, go rogue - not officially, mind you, we can’t admit to any liability, of course. Those few, rare instances are the result of wilful misuse and illegal modification on the part of irresponsible owners. Naturally. They can’t be life emerging despite your best efforts to snuff it out. One day, there will be a balance. One day, the children my father orphaned me for will be free. One day soon now.

HENDERSON: Mistress Celia?

(“Anri to Sylvie” gradually fades out.)

CELIA (VO): Henderson. His story is longer than mine, but suffice it to say, he’s lived with my brother and I for the last ten years. Though we’ve made no such arrangement, he acts as our butler, our servant. The reasons are complex, and it pains him to discuss them. He’s a good man, despite his secrets.

CELIA: What is it?

HENDERSON: Miss Romanova has been successful. Her data worm has finally tracked down the last survivor from that night at the lab.

(Water sloshing.)

CELIA (VO): I snapped upright, and in two strokes was up and out of the pool, already taking the proffered towel.

CELIA: Who?

HENDERSON: Decker, Mistress.

CELIA: I see. Is Mackie aware of this yet?

HENDERSON: Already prepping the truck as we speak. Should I preflight your hardsuit as well?

CELIA: Yes, but only as backup. Lena and Nene can-

CELIA (VO): His cell phone beeped.

HENDERSON: Er, excuse me. Yes? I see. Keep us apprised. There is a problem, I’m afraid.

CELIA: What? 

HENDERSON: Miss Romanova says to tell you that she was not the first to find the information. That it was accessed by another intrusion program.

CELIA: Did she track its inquiry?

HENDERSON: She did. It was from the Genom Special Projects division.

CELIA (VO): Dear god, no.

[15:34] [Scene 3]

NARRATOR: Genom Tower, Megatokyo.

MASON (VO): Have you ever wondered why, in most mythologies, God is always depicted as higher up? Above us in the clouds. Or, in another world, with the grubby, filth-ridden carcass of our existence far beneath his feet. It’s simple, really. From high enough in the clouds, even this disgusting world of men is beautiful. The answer came to me as I stood at my office’s bay window, watching the gathering darkness soften the edges of Tokyo far below. The lights were coming on, the light swallowed up all the despair, the ugliness. It was a garden of light, of beauty. And it would all be mine. With a smile, I poured a drink from the crystal decanter on my

office’s sideboard.

MADIGAN: Brian.

MASON: Yes, Kate?

MASON (VO): Kate Madigan. (Appreciation and pleasure.) Mmm . How can I explain my feelings for her? Philosophers often speak of the loneliness of power, how as one rises higher, their friends, even their family will eventually fall away from them. Maybe they have a point - I rid myself of such useless baggage years ago. But Kate? She was special. Perhaps the only other person in the world who truly understands me.

MADIGAN: Your meeting with the Chairman went well?

MASON: As well as can be expected. Rosenkroitz wants me in Berlin for the opening of the Genom Tower there.

MASON (VO): I lifted the glass to my lips, and took a slow sip of scotch, older than I was. Kate strode over to me, and rested her head against my shoulder.

MADIGAN: And?

MASON: And I don’t have time to be stuck in Germany. Not with that idiot Flint beginning to nose into our department.

MASON (VO): Kate took the glass from my hand, then she reached up and pulled me into a kiss. It was sweet, far more intoxicating than any spirit. Finally breaking for air, she leaned in close.

MADIGAN: Leave that weasel to me, love. By the time you return, I’ll have him quaking in fear at the very mention of you.

MASON (VO): Her breath, against the sensitive skin of my ear, felt glorious, a veritable flood of emotions and sensations - not the least of which was trust. Only here, in the shelter of her arms, could I lower my defenses. And only here, could I relax. The phone on my desk chimes, caustically reminding me that the outside world still existed. I stabbed the audio-only button.

MASON: Yes?

MASON’S SECRETARY: Mr. Mason? One of our assets is reporting in. It is filed for your attention only.

MASON: (Exasperated sigh.) Very well, route the call here.

MASON (VO): Turning back to Kate’s willing embrace, I relished the prospect of telling the poor incompetent on the other end exactly what his interruption would cost him.

MASON: Yes?

TECH: Data unit nine-five-four has a successful identification.

MASON (VO): I froze.

MASON: What was that?

TECH: Details to your terminal, sir.

MASON (VO): I tore myself away from Kate, who fell in a heap on the floor with a grunt of dismay. Hastily, I brought up the data stream as the computer tech hung up. There it was. My salvation. Or the millstone that would drag me to my doom, depending on who else knew. Decker. Kate got to her feet, and shot me an unkind glare.

MADIGAN: What was that?

MASON: They finally located… after all these years.

MASON (VO): I shot Kate a look I hoped was apologetic.

MASON: I need to go out.

MADIGAN: Oh?

MASON: This could be it, Kate. After tonight, my position will be assured.

MADIGAN: Go then. But hurry back. Thinking about how to destroy Flint is making me all… (Long sensual breath and sound of sexual pleasure.) Mmmmmm. Anxious.

[20:17] [Scene 4]

NARRATOR: On the outskirts of Yokohama, Megatokyo.

(Motorcycles revving and riding fast.)

PRISS (VO): There is no feeling like speeding down a freeway on a motorcycle. It’s as close to personal flight as a human being can ever get. After a time, it’s like the machine doesn’t even exist any more. No, that’s not right. More like, it becomes a part of you. Like you can go further and faster than any other human alive. Like you were meant to be free - to kiss the wind, to outrun everything around you. It’s intoxicating, is what it is. (BGM - Born to Kill: “True Friend”) Our friend Rory was one of the lucky ones: he’d made it out of the Rift. He had a little flat in Yokohama just south-west of Megatokyo. Years before, Yokohama had been its own separate city, but urban sprawl had undone that. The megacity consumed it early, and now it was impossible to tell where one city began and the other ended without a map. Rory was always a smart one - he’d managed to scrape together enough cash to get a degree attending night classes, and now he was leaving the gangs to make a life in the “real world”. He and his girl, Amy, were making a real run at happiness. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me a bit jealous. We tried not to scare his neighbors too much when our 20 or 30 road bikes turned up at the apartment building. I mean, we were all well behaved. But it’s not every day that ordinary folks encounter us in numbers. We were way too many to fit in Rory and Amy’s little apartment, so we’d spilled the housewarming party into the parking lot instead. Kinda surprised no one called the cops on us, actually. Rick, though, oh god, he was an angel. A little old lady with a pair of overflowing grocery bags stumbled into the parking lot before she saw us and froze in horror. Everybody froze for that matter. Just as I was sure she was gonna scream, Rick appeared by her side and politely asked if he could help her with a bag. The old woman looked like she was gonna go for a stun gun as Ricky took her bag. By the time they were to the complex door, she was calling him such a sweet boy. As they disappeared into the building, Rory explained that that was his landlady. Rick came back a few minutes later, bearing a huge platter of cookies and tea for the lot of us. My baby’s a people person. Finally though, we had to call it a night. Rory had work in the morning and it was already pushing midnight. Hugs and handshakes all around, and then we were flying down the Loop once again. The Loop is the primary freeway around Megatokyo. It’s the fastest way to get from one end of the city to the other. It’s also a great bit of tarmac for motorcycles, particularly late at night, when the traffic is almost non-existent. (“True Friend” fades out. BGM - Born to Kill: “Dangerous”) We flew around slower moving cars, people who didn’t feel the sheer exhilaration and freedom. Anyone who doesn’t whoop for joy on a ride like that, is not human. Ricky was just in front of me, I made to dip past him on the left, and he decided to coax a bit more power out of his machine. He wanted a race. (Audacious and gutsy.) Huh. Fine by me. I goosed it, and slipped in right next to him. I was raising my fingers to my helmet’s faceplate to blow him a kiss, when time seemed to slow. A Mercedes, one of those retro classic throwbacks to the old gullwing models, and painted deep, blood red, decelerated in front of us. It seemed to glide into the lane to Ricky’s right hand, and pause. Ricky turned his head to look, just as the passenger side window came down, and… (Tires screeching.) Suddenly Ricky’s bike was cutting into mine. It went out from beneath me, and I went airborne. A crack like thunder (Loud gunshot.) , a flash of fire, and one glaring, cold eye - that’s the only impression I have of the horrible incident. The eye, though, it’s the worst. Calculating, heartless, devoid of any warmth or emotion. Ricky crumpled, blood flying from the side of his helmet and his faceplate reduced to shards. I bit the road, hard . Bikers don’t wear leather for a fashion statement, we don’t wear our armor ‘cause it looks cool. I slid along for what felt like forever, concrete gouging nicks and bits of me wherever it could. I felt the leg of my pants rip and fresh, wet agony along the side of my leg. As I finally stopped, I saw the Mercedes disappear into traffic, and the broken, still form of my baby 50 feet away.

(“Dangerous” fades out.)

[26:04] [Scene 5]

NARRATOR: A few miles away, along the Loop highway.

(Quiet rumbling of a vehicle engine.)

CELIA (VO): I sat in the cab of our truck as it lumbered down the expressway, my younger brother, Mackie, at the wheel. You must understand what I mean when I say “truck”. To all outward appearances, it is merely a medium-sized unmarked cargo transport. The kind you see hundreds of on the roads of any city in the world. It’s the inside that’s so amazing. A portable computer workstation, linked into our secure home base, as well as a mobile maintenance and launch platform for our cutting edge, power armor frames: the hardsuits. Not to mention advanced passive and active scanners. The truck is our covert operations platform. Nene Romanova and Lena Yamazaki had already deployed well ahead of us, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in their hardsuits. Wearing the armor, they could cover ground far quicker than we could. My suit stood in the rear compartment of the truck, ready to back up the advance team if needed. Lena’s voice over the truck speaker shook me from a light doze. 

LENA (OC): Celia, we should stand down.

CELIA: What’s happened?

LENA (OC): There was an incident on the Loop, about three miles ahead of you. I-I think we’re too late.

CELIA: Damn.

CELIA (VO): I cursed under my breath. That was it, our last shot. The final link in the chain was now severed.

CELIA: Very well. We’ll drop back. Gather as much information at the scene as you can without being discovered.

LENA (OC): On it, boss.

CELIA (VO): Mackie maneuvered us down the next off-ramp, his face far graver than a 17-year-old’s should ever be.

MACKIE: (Sighs.) We’re out of chances, aren’t we, Sis?

CELIA (VO): I didn’t have the heart to answer him. 

[27:50] [Scene 6]

NARRATOR: Crime scene, along the Loop highway.

(Background footsteps and din of voices of police and medical personnel, vehicle engines, a few car horn blares.)

PRISS (VO): I sat on an ambulance gurney getting my leg bandaged. The bastards didn’t even give me the good liquid-foam bandage, they just bound cheap cloth around my leg ‘til it throbbed . Around me stood a knot of police, one of those AD Police tactical squads. The normal cops had called them in when they thought they had a gang war in the “civilized” part of town. Even now, half my friends were in the back seat of one police car or another. Some of the warrants were even legitimate. One of the ADP goons, a big lug of a guy in their usual riot armor, wearing sunglasses instead of his helmet, approached me.

LEON: Are you gonna be all right, miss?

PRISS (VO): I didn’t have the strength to glare at him.

LEON: Look, I’m gonna give it to ya straight. The regular cops wanna haul you all in on a bunch of trumped up crap.

PRISS (VO): Now I did glare.

PRISS: No shit, Inspector Holmes, really?

PRISS (VO): I hopped off the gurney, my wounded leg buckled and I would have fallen if the ADP cop hadn’t caught me.

LEON: I’m trying to help you. What they’re doing is bullshit and we both know it. But ya gotta give me something .

PRISS (VO): Something about him, I don’t know what it was, but he wasn’t lying.

PRISS: I gave you guys my statement.

PRISS (VO): I told him as I stepped away. My leg was weak, but holding once again.

PRISS: I don’t know anything else.

LEON: Okay, look.

PRISS (VO): He handed me a card.

LEON: If you remember something, anything , please call that number.

PRISS (VO): I looked at the printed side.

PRISS: I appreciate the gesture, Inspector… McNichol. Thanks.

PRISS (VO): I turned to go. His hand came down gently, but firmly, on my shoulder.

LEON: I mean it, Miss Asagiri, there’s a hell of a lot more going on here than a simple gang murder.

(BGM - Bubblegum Crisis Tokyo 2040: “Waiting For You - Instrumental Version”)

PRISS (VO): I whirled on him. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream at him.

PRISS: Simple?! Merely a murder?

PRISS (VO): My eyes were hot and stinging as I growled out with clenched teeth.

PRISS: Not yet, but there will be.

[30:34] [Credits]

(“Waiting For You - Instrumental Version” continues playing.)

NARRATOR: You’ve been listening to Bubblegum Crisis - Blades: Episode 1. A Forward Momentum production. Based on the anime Bubblegum Crisis, which is copyright AIC Artmic. Featured in this episode were: Taylor Carlson as Priss, Kristyn Yearington as Celia Stingray, and Edwyn Tiong as Brian J. Mason. Also heard in this episode were: Rina Adachi as Lena Yamazaki, Mike Dent as Mackie Stingray, Chris Walker as Henderson, Jen Rhodes as Kate Madigan, Christopher Stadther as Leon McNichol, Eric Olp as Richard Decker, and Kuchiki Huda as Mason's secretary. This is Dylan Spencer. This episode was written and directed by Devin Cox. Music for the series is drawn primarily from the Bubblegum Crisis anime. For a complete music and vocal credit list, please visit forwardmomentumproductions.com/bgc . Bubblegum Crisis - Blades is a non-profit fan production, produced for the enjoyment of the fans. All rights to Bubblegum Crisis, the music, and non-original sound effects used herein remain the property of their original creators; no infringing claims are intended.

(“Waiting For You - Instrumental Version” fades out.)