THE FOLLOWING STORY IS A COOPERATIVE EFFORT ON THE ACCOUNTS OF YOUNG SWORDSMAN AND S.C. WOLFE, AND IS A COMBINATION OF THEIR TWO STORIES (JOINING THE ROVERS AND ON THE RUN) NEITHER OF THEM CLAIM RIGHTS TO THE ROAD ROVERS OR ANY OF THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OR IDEAS. WE REQUEST THAT YOU ENJOY OUR STORY, AND REVIEW IF YOU FEEL SO MOTIVATED TO DO SO.
THANK YOU,
YOUNG SWORDSMAN AND S.C. WOLFE
PART I
"We had a settlement, Mr. Cyrus," the man exclaimed as he slammed his mechanical arm onto the table with such force that it caused a dent in the shape of his fist.
"We did, and I have yet to see your part fully acted out, Parvo," the Kennel Master replied. He eyed Parvo's choice of dress: Camo pants and a tight muscle shirt. This was no formal occasion, but the Kennel Master would have appreciated a little effort on Parvo's part.
"I'll not make another movement until I begin seeing results from your experiments!" Parvo put another fist mark in the table. The Kennel Master, better known as Cyrus on the black market, passively looked at his ruined table. He was briefly aware of his bodyguard looming over him. The transdogmafied greyhound stood taller than most men, and was the latest model from the KOOY branch of production. Tragic, really, that that branch had suffered the loss of twelve members just recently. Only a few had been brought back, but Cyrus had plans for retrieving the surviving three. One of them in particular needed to be recovered. This was only a minor setback, and until then he had to deal with this buffoon, Parvo.
"Parvo, I'd prefer that we don't get emotional about this exchange. As I recall, you claimed not to need my services. 'Merely a convenience', as you put it," Cyrus paused to take a sip out of his coffee mug, "now, you want my product badly, which I'm assuming is because yours didn't come out so well. When I told you about Project Avenger, it was because I intended on dedicating my resources to your cause. I didn't expect you to try and duplicate my work. Rest assured that these Cano-mutants of your HTC project are not even close to as agile and deadly as my KOOY class product, such as I have here." Cyrus indicated the greyhound, which was standing at attention. "And as to the issue of you mimicking my creations! Well, sir, I find myself disturbed. Our agreement was that I'd be providing you with ample supplies and troops loyal to the entirety of your cause, as I recall."
"Yeah, so what? I figured I could give it an honest shot."
"And risked exposing not only your organization, but mine as well, and this I cannot allow. You are to stand your forces down until this is all ready, or we'll both suffer for your eager arrogance."
"Hey, now listen up! I'm in charge here, so I'm the boss! Unless you want me to cut off my funding completely, then you listen to me…!"
"Parvo," the Kennel Master interrupted as he shook his head slowly and straightened his black sport coat. "Parvo, Parvo, Parvo. You may well fund the majority of these productions going on around here, but I think that you fail to realize that I have the power of arms. Throw your dollar at me if you wish, but a name on my hit list is a body in the ground. Why, this guy here is capable of single handedly taking out an entire military-grade outpost."
"Bah! That skinny mutt couldn't take on a single one of my Cano-mutants! This is my money, and they may be your creations, but they're my property. Besides that, the only reason I'd ever want one of those creations of yours is fer cannon fodder, got it?!" Parvo began ranting and raving about his genius and mastermind projects, and Cyrus generally ignored every word of it, finding the black specs in his coffee more amusing than this man.
"I'll tell you what," Cyrus said, cutting Parvo off in mid-sentence, "let's put this petty quarrel behind us with a duel. Send in any five of your creations, and I'll put in this greyhound here and we'll see whose creations are the better. If your monsters win, I'll surrender a full legion of my forces to you, free of charge. If my greyhound wins, however, your argument is lost and we continue on with business as agreed upon by the contract we both signed. Either way, you win, really. So for me personally, there's nothing to be gained but bragging rights and a smirk."
Parvo wouldn't let down this challenge, and the Kennel Master knew it. The guy wasn't an idiot, just an overconfident moron. He was a thinker, but not a planner. Parvo's assistant, Groomer, blew a whistle, and the sliding metal door hissed open. A small number of Parvo's Cano-mutants poured in, ready to defend their masters. Amusing, Parvo had suspected treachery on Cyrus's part.
"Any five of your choosing, Parvo"
"Five? Ha! I'll only need two! That's one to kill yer hound, and one to clean up afterwards!"
"My hound will do both," Cyrus muttered, "Follow me to the arena. It is a training ground where my subjects undergo combat training. The ground moves to what ever sort of scene you want it to be, and only takes a few minuets to do so. What'll it be? Forest, desert, grassland? Your choice."
It took about five minuets to get to the arena. The thing was as big as four football fields, and the padded walls showed burns and cuts all the way around. A large, mobile platform was rested at the corner where the door was, for spectators and trainers. Everyone got into the small hovering platform except for Cyrus's greyhound and two of Parvo's Cano-mutants. A golden retriever and a Dalmatian. Those two had been with Parvo on his every visit. Parvo would almost seem bare without his two little monsters.
"I think we'll set the stage in a forest, Mr. Cyrus. I know greyhounds, they're runners, so a forest will limit his speed."
"Forest it is then, Parvo." Cyrus waved his hand, and dialed a few buttons into a control pad in front of him. The entire room shook as the floor opened up to either side, reveling a chamber below. The chamber slid sideways as though the landscaped were on a giant conveyor belt until it came to a forest setting. The conveyor belt stopped, and the forest was pushed upward hydraulically. The whole process took about five minuets. When it was done, there was a forest with thick trees and rocks, even a small river.
"This go well with your idea, Parvo?"
"Perfectly," three smaller hover platforms than dropped down to the Cano-mutants and the greyhound. They were hoisted up, and dropped off at random sections of the landscape. A virtual reality kicked in, and it suddenly looked as though there was a sky and clouds, and mountains beyond the limits of the room. A small touch to make the place look more real.
"Not a half-bad place," Parvo noted with folded arms, "may just buy one of these off you as well."
The duel began. The greyhound, named Zig by his peers, so Cyrus was told, instantly took to his training. He had no weapon, and he didn't need one. Zig was a mock image of the Road Rover Blitz. His claws could extend and cut through almost anything, thought he didn't share in Blitz's ability to use his teeth. For some reason or another, Cyrus hadn't been able to replicate that ability. It was true that the greyhound dog was known for its speed, but Zig was far better known for his agility in hand-to-hand combat.
Zig carefully moved about the trees, checking his every step, watching every shadow. His razor claws extended to full length, almost a full foot. The other tiny issue with Zig was that he didn't have any claws on his thumbs. This wasn't actually all that bad, but the more the merrier. Zig's ears twitched as one of the Cano-mutants, the Dalmatian, started loudly sniffing the air. Zig crouched low to the ground, and listened. They were still a full football field away, but the artificial landscape was making it impossible to see more than a dozen yards. Zig knew where the Dalmatian was, but true to his training, he didn't act, suspecting a trap. Sure enough, the golden retriever was only a little to the side with a blaster drawn. The Kennel Master almost spoke up, but he was the one who had never specified "no weapons."
Zig moved suddenly, griping the bark of the tree next to him, and launched himself into the air. From there, he caught sight of both Cano-mutants, and used the second of his abilities. With a quick flip of both wrists, the claws from his hands shot forward, taking the golden retriever in the head, neck, chest and hand. It fell with a roar, and Zig landed silently. He side crawled into the underbrush of a cluster of aspen, and vanished from the sight of those in the small hover platform.
The second Cano-mutant was slightly panicked, but was either brave, or extremely stupid. It ripped the blaster from his comrade's cold hands, and paced into the thick trees. It shot at every shadow, and every falling leaf. Some of the battleground caught fire, but Cyrus didn't activate the sprinkler system. He was enjoying Parvo's defeat too much. Besides, he could always dig up another tree and stick it in the ground where the others had burnt.
"Very impressive work, Cyrus. I honestly underestimated your creation," Parvo admitted. "However, it is now clawless, and I'd venture to guess that they don't grow back instantly. How is the greyhound going to handle that?"
Cyrus looked at the small scene below. Smoke was gathering at the roof, and Zig was nowhere to be seen. The Kennel Master knew full well what was happening, and so he didn't fret.
The Cano-mutant looked at the burning scene around him, and laughed. It was assuming Zig was burnt out? No wonder Parvo had requested three legions. His mutants were borderline idiotic. Zig suddenly jumped out of the brush behind the Cano-mutant, and seized its blaster. A safe distance away, he toned the blaster on the mutant, and fired off five rounds. The Dalmatian fell to the ground. The battle over, Cyrus activated the sprinkler, and the fires slowly went out. The hover craft lowered, and the stage began sinking back onto the conveyor belt. By the time they were down, the two mutant's bodies were neatly piled to the side. Zig stood at attention at the bottom of the ramp where the platform let off.
"Excellent work. Not that I'd have a choice at this moment, but I'm choosing to reinvest in your project,"
"Good to hear, Parvo. I'd like to show you something else." Cyrus led the way to the computer room. About the size of a football field and every square inch filled to the limit with computers and personnel, the computer room was an easy was of saying "center of all operations."
From there, Cyrus directed Parvo's attention to a large viewing screen which had six small divisions in it, each one showing a different prison-cell-like room. Each room had its own inhabitant.
"Behold, my secret weapon," Cyrus indicated the center screen. In the corner of the small room was one of the captured KOOYs. "Named Anemos by her peers, she has the ability to turn invisible, and has super speed when agitated or scared. She's loyal by choice to only two individuals, much like many of her brothers and sisters in creation, but as you know, the collars we fit our subjects with after they are trained allow us to divert their devotion, even against their will." The Australian shepherd, Anemos, if you were so inclined, wore a deep green collar with gold Celtic designs, though the detail was difficult to make out on the low-detail camera.
"Doesn't sound much like there's much going for this pooch. How's she your secret weapon, eh?" Parvo crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows. How he managed to lift that much weight in hair was beyond Cyrus.
"She'll have very little effect on the Rovers by herself. It's her attachment to KOOY102-TOF(173) that we're interested in. KOOY102-TOF(173) is better known by the fellow experiments as "Riot." I'm sure you'll recall my showing him to you once before. He's the one you tried to replicate in your labs, who just so happened, as I hear, to have escaped your lab compound single-handedly." Cyrus said plainly.
"Ah, yes, HTC# 972..." Parvo mused, hiding his embarrassment at that fact, and the fact that the project escaped him a second time in Sicily. At least, he thought, he don't know about Sicily.
"Yes, well. He had a certain ability or two that we had only recently created. He, along with two others, (not including your "Kurt"), are confirmed to be allies with the Rovers as of now. We need him back, at least until we can pry the DNA that we need to replicate his ability from him."
"And I suppose you want me to do this for you?"
"Well, the ability by itself is useless. He requires the company of others; otherwise he's just any other Rover in human disguise. Either way, I want him back. He has no less than three abilities, even though he can only use one of them on will."
"No less than three abilities? How is he even genetically stable?"
"That's one point, Parvo. Riot is anything but stable, genetically or otherwise. The fact is that it wouldn't take much at all to kill him. Any form of major emotion would do the trick just fine, actually. Rage, sorrow, over-joy, love, just to name a few. His abilities literally make him as delicate as glass." That was a lie of course, but truth be told, Riot was particularly unstable. Emotions were dangerous to him, but not deadly.
"Sounds to me like this Riot of yours took quite a bit of taking care of," Parvo mused.
"Unfortunately, he required almost routine memory-erasing. He was just too inquisitive, actually. Kept on getting to know too much. Eventually, we just fitted him with a F.W.S. I'm sure you have seen these around on your tour?"
"Ah yes, 'Free Will Suppressor'. I do believe I saw one on the…uh…what ever her name is. Agnes…or something." Parvo studied Zig with a new interest. "I can't help but notice that yer hound aint' wearing one of them?"
"Yes, well. He's endlessly loyal to our project, and has heartedly proven himself multiple times in the past."
"Humph! Putting your faith in a slave? Hardly what I'd expect of you, Cyrus."
Zig stepped forward, and looked down into Parvo's eyes, but didn't say a word. Parvo refused to look away, and the two engaged in a short stare-down. Cyrus watched Zig with some fascination.
The greyhound was usually strictly pacifist, in one manner of the word. He loved to fight, but always had to be given a direct order to do so. Very rarely did he ever step out of line, even with his free will.
"Well, it was reassuring to see your work being done around here, Cyrus. I look forward to meeting you again."
Parvo walked over to the room's sliding door, and left. Zig waited for some time before moving. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" he asked. His voice was not deep, but it had a rigid sternness to it that made you think twice about confronting him.
"Speak,"
"Sir, I don't trust this…General Parvo. Not even in the least. He is almost as foolish and clumsy as his half-witted cano-mutants."
"I agree, personally. However, I have a contract with him that I plan on carrying out. We wanted an army, and we are finally ready to start making one."
"Then why don't we?"
"Because, Riot has something that I personally would like every one of these soldiers to have. It is critical, and could mean the difference between success and failure for this army."
"And what would that be?"
"That would be a closely guarded secret at the moment." The Kennel Master thought for a long moment before continuing. "Zig, I'm granting you full rights to four KOOY class warriors, one of which is Anemos. I need Riot back, and you're the one to get him to me alive. I could care less about the rest of the Road Rovers, and that includes the other two stowaways and Parvo's cheap knock-off of Riot." The Kennel Master pulled off a gold and black bracelet, and handed it over to Zig. It was the "control" to Anemos. He gave a long glare at Zig before saying in a low tone, "Bring…him…back."
Naturally, Zig was delighted to have this mission. He had a personal rivalry with Riot spawned by his jealousy for Riot's importance. Zig was either going to bring Riot back, or die trying.