Ghost in the Machine

Written by Mere (mbmincey@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot are the property of Dark Horse Entertainment, Dark Horse Comics, Tri-Star Paramount (Sony), and their creator's Frank Miller and Geof Darrow. I claim no rights and make no profit.

Author's Note: This takes place a month after the second season.

After being relieved of duty, Harry made his way back down from the main deck, looking forward to a good hot meal. He was an old salt really, four years on a destroyer under his belt before transferring here, but being stationed on a carrier was still enough to get his eyes to bulge. And not just any carrier mind you, but the USS Dark Horse. Yeah, that one. It was a small carrier, if you could ever call a carrier small, and its main function was to house the BGY-11 and Legends one through three, along with a few other goodies should even the robots need a little help. Legend-One was such a big mother that it took up more than bleedin' half of Hanger Bay Two! And seeing it launched? Seeing it launched from the catapult was still awe-inspiring, not that he'd ever let on to the chillins. Heck no. He passed by Bay Two, affectionately called the Big Guy Cave, and nodded hello as he always did to their most famous, reclusive crewmember. He hadn't exactly chatted with the robot, it only being powered up when coming and going between the Dark Horse to where ever, but it seemed almost… human. Something that either delighted people or disturbed them. Robots had the unique combination of inspiring wonder and trepidation, especially military prototypes and especially these days what with evil robots running around. But kids loved him. If they had the chance to get close to him, they'd run right up to Big Guy without the slightest apprehension, completely trusting of the huge, walking, talking arsenal. Maybe because he had been around so long. Or the way he had been designed. Or maybe because he was on posters, lunch boxes, and had his own toy line. He was a real life super-hero to them complete with a cute-as-a-button sidekick, not a weapon of mass destruction they should be afraid of. Of course if Quark kept it up, Big Guy and Rusty would be the only robots people would trust. There were those Home Version Rusty's of course, and then the Nanny Alice line that had quickly fizzled after what happened to that little girl… Harry liked robots, he really did, but why anyone would trust a machine to raise their kids was beyond him.

"No offense."

Harry was so lost in thought that he was completely surprised when he walked smack into something and bounced right off it to the floor. He let out an "oomph!", landing square on his backside, and stared up at his suddenly visible roadblock. It stood erect with long, spindly legs and arms. It's shiny superstructure reflecting his own image back at him. It titled its head at him, as if just as curious in Harry, clutching what looked like a space age lunch box to its chest.

"I've never seen a human so close up before…"

Harry blinked, his throat having dried up as he tried to speak. "What… are you?"

It's body stiffened then and it pointed its right hand at him. "I'm sorry, but you can't tell anyone I was here." And with that, a fine laser beam shot forth from its palm and shot through Harry's head point blank. He collapsed with thud to the floor. His killer unaware of the smell of something burning as it crouched down by his still form to examine him. And when its auditory sensors detected someone coming it dragged Harry to the side, holding him close to its body as it cloaked them once again before the passers-by could see them.

***

Dwayne sat at the Comm station, still decked in his flight suit, frowning slightly as Slate reported on the probe that Rusty had found buzzing around outside the Dark Horse last night. It was relatively small, spherical, and single-eyed. Stealthy enough not to have caught attention unless you had boy robots flying about the ship and controlled by a remote link somewhere. It was enough to get all the little hairs on his neck to stand on end.

"I can't tell you anything you don't already know. It has parts manufactured by both Quark and Itsubishi, but all the serial numbers have been scratched out. They could have bought the material from anywhere."

"What about its CPU?"

"That's going to take time. It has some very complicated firewalls."

Dwayne's frown deepened and he sunk further into his chair. "You sure you don't want me to come down there? I'm no genius but I'm good for a few other things." Slate grinned at him.

"So I've noticed. No need though. Just give me some more time."

He sighed, for a moment allowing his exhaustion to show. That was five days in a row he was sent on a call, each one was just as long and grueling, and now this. Just great. "Thanks, Doc. We appreciate it."

"Take care, Lieutenant. Be careful."

He smiled ruefully. "Careful? What's that?"

Slate rolled her eyes. "I don't know which of you is worse."

She ended the transmission and Dwayne being too lazy to get up, rolled his chair over to the Comm station and closed the line. Wisecracks and towel snapping aside this was very serious business. For the time being though it was watch and wait and he positively hated that. Better to act than react.

"Aw, don't worry, Lieutenant." Mack said, coming up behind and smirking down at him. "I still think you're cute."

"Thanks so much. Don't you have a plasma distributor to recalibrate?"

Mack clicked his heels and saluted. "All done fer the day, sir. Recommend a Miller Time, sir."

"Fine."

Mack became serious for a moment, leaning against one of the consoles as he studied the diagram on screen. "Any guesses who sent the droid? Look's a lot like Legion hardware."

"The Legion was destroyed."

"Still one out there, Chief."

Like it could possibly slip his mind. Number Seven was still unaccounted for, but One had been certain he was the last of them so it was possible Seven wasn't even operational. Yeah, assuming his luck changed. "Maybe, but it could be anybody who can put a robot together." He stretched, joints popping audibly and bruised muscle starting to ache. The adrenaline had finally worn off. All I need is a shower, three weeks of sleep, and a blood transfusion. Then I'll be right as rain again. "They just keep right on comin' don't they?" Mack quirked an eyebrow at him.

"They?"

"The bad guys." Whoever it was he wasn't going to be happy until that little mystery was solved. Well, if you could call that happiness…

"Well I say bring it on!" Jo crowed, walking up to the station. "We can handle anything they can dish out!"

"Whaddya mean 'we'? I didn't see your tuckus get charbroiled today."

"With all do respect, sir?" The sir was dripping with sarcasm and she blew a big raspberry at him. That's what he got for spoiling her too much. "You'd be nothin' without us, Spit curl lad, so don't start getting too big for your britches." He grinned.

"You're right, Jo. Where would I be with out my loyal crew?"

"Dead…" Mack said.

"Burnt to a crisp," Jo added.

"Crushed…"

"Blown to bits…"

"And that's just today!"

Dwayne buried his face in his hand. "For Christ sakes guys, I didn't need a list." He sighed, looking up at them again. "But seriously, I think at this point it's too soon to conveniently file it under Legion Ex Machina." Mack thumbed at the diagram.

"Think they'll beef up security?"

"Anymore than they already have?" Jo asked. "Place is tighter than Fort Knocks thanks to RoboDwayne." Lord, she just had to go and mention that. "Quit being abducted, Lieutenant."

"Funny."

Dwayne heaved himself up with a grunt, reluctant to get out of his chair. It was inevitable though. He had to give Big Guy a shakedown flight and make sure everything was in working order.

"How's about we do a few laps around the ship then close shop for the day?"

"Sounds good to me." Mack said.

Dwayne retrieved his helmet off the console, making his way back to Big Guy's maintenance chair when Jo caught up with him as they walked. "You sure you don't want me to do that?"

"Why?" He was genuinely surprised by the question. Sure she complained about not getting any seat time since she was the third in Command, but she suddenly seemed concerned.

"You know you don't have to pull that macho stuff with me, Dwayne."

"I don't follow you."

She grinned at him, lowering her voice like it was some big conspiracy. "I know you like to impress Dr. Slate and all but you just got blown up, beat down, and shot at a mere five hours ago."

"So? Someone's trying to whack me all the time. And I'm not trying to 'impress' anybody."

"Suuuurrreee. Whatever ya say, stud."

He reached the steps of the maintenance chair, pushing his head through the thick padding of his helmet, and clasping the chinstrap so that it stayed snuggly in place. Why was everyone picking on him today? Jo, Mack, bloodthirsty aliens… He gave Jo his most charming, frisky smile. "Always trying to pair me off. Don't you know you're the only girl for me? Look at you," He looked her up and down, knowing somewhere under all that grunge and oil was Jo. "All greasy in your cute little overalls. I mean woof!"

"You're such a weirdo."

"Oh c'mon, spin for Daddy."

She snorted and pointed authoritatively at Big Guy. "Back in the can, hambone." Dwayne chuckled to himself as he went up the steps to Big Guy's hatch.

"Whatever the lady says. No need to twist my arm about it…"

He entered the pass code, Big Guy's cockpit opening, and Dwayne looked back towards Mack at the Command Station with a headset on, ready to receive communications. Mack gave him the thumbs up to let him know everything was set and he climbed in, sliding into the pilot's seat. It still smelled of burnt wire from when the systems overloaded. Yes, very, very lucky today. He strapped himself in and pushed the seat forward, the hatch doors closing shut behind him.

Maybe he shouldn't have brushed the Doc off like he had. She had seemed kind of pissed when she signed off. He sometimes forgot she didn't share their gallows humor. After all, joking about it was better than thinking about it. Dwayne pushed it aside, remembering that he had a job to do. Quit thinking about her too much.

Oops.

It! Quit thinking about IT too much. Oh hell, you know what you mean ya idiot. You're talking to yourself! Damn, blankity blank Pit Crew, puttin' ideas in your head. Now pay attention.

Power core back on-line, navigational systems. After all these years he could go through his checklist without even thinking about it as Big Guy came to life again. Propulsion… Of course it was better to pay attention to such things, but being in such a big hurry didn't allow much for that. He opened his comm link to Mack. "All systems back online. How am I doing?"

"Everything's good from where I'm sittin'. Green lights across the board. Power core levels at eighty-two and climbing."

"Roger." Dwayne pulled the cyclic control stick forward, the sound of Big Guy's massive hind and knee servos making the exo-suit stand all ten feet high. The familiar vibration felt beneath his feet even through the thick leather soles of his boots. That was pure, raw, power right there. Too bad the same feeling didn't translate outside of the suit. "Command grid's at…" Now that couldn't be right. "Huh. I need a confirma--"

He stopped when a silvery substance dripped down onto his forearm and he instinctively pulled his arm back. "What the…?" It rolled down the side of his arm, leaving a florescent glow where it had touched him and he looked up at the top of the cockpit. The same stuff was starting to seep through the panels and fall to the floor. And it was oozing out of the floor panels to double his pleasure. "Oh hell." First came a swell of panic, then the realization he didn't have time for that.

Dwayne quickly undid his restraints as this metal ooze began to fill the cockpit, from both above and below. "I think I'm in trouble here!" Mack didn't respond. Or couldn't.

He reached for the ejection handle, but a tendril shot up instantly and grabbed his wrist. Dwayne let out a yelp both in surprise and because the thing was squeezing his wrist hard enough to make something pop. It looked like mercury, metallic, shiny, and fluid. It gripped his arms and legs and the more he fought it the tighter it held onto him. Wrapping around his waist and rib cage, squeezing him until he could hardly breath. Now was the time to panic.

"Dwayne?" Jo! He could hear her on Big Guy's comm system. "You alright in there?"

"No!" Dwayne gasped. He was jerked back into the pilot's seat, the liquid metal binding him to it.

"Shut up."

That was Big Guy. That was Big Guy speaking and he wasn't doing it.

"Relax and be replaced."

***

"Oh no you don't!" Rusty said, clenching his teeth in bite that could bend steel. He was ninety percent damaged and running on auxiliary power, but his arch nemesis had taken some heavy blows himself. Time to go for broke. The entire Universe was at stake! Left, right, left again. Firing all he had as his enemy backed him up against a corner, unmerciful, and then horror upon horrors dealt the final deathblow, his victim's small body flying through the air and bouncing off the dungeon wall. He laughed his sinister, taunting laugh like he always did. That evil, ranssum, franssum Frog Commander had once again killed Rusty. "DANG IT!" Rusty threw down his controller and placed his head in his hands, completely frustrated. "I'm still bullet proof, I'm still bullet proof, I'm still bullet proof…" He would never be able to beat the Frog Commander. Not ever. Not without a cheat code, but what was the point of winning if you cheated?

"Sheesh, don't be such a spaz. It's only a stupid video game."

Rusty turned around to see Pierre come up the stairs into his room. That he was up here just grated on Rusty's nerves to no end. He was so tired of Pierre walking around, strutting his chubby stuff all over Quark like he owned the place.

"What do you want, Derriere?"

"Wow. Did you come up with that one all by yourself or did Big Doofus help you? He's so witty after all."

Just once. Just once he'd like to make Pierre eat that smirk of his. "Buddy, you are so lucky there's a Robot rule number one." Pierre dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"Whatever. You too busy warping your emotion grid or do you want to go do something?" Pierre wanted to do something? Do something with him?

"Why?", Rusty asked warily. Pierre shrugged.

"I'm bored. Uncle Axle said he'd spend the day with me, but he's in a meeting right now. Some big who-ha with some investors."

Oh.

Big Guy had said that Pierre probably didn't have it so easy because his Mom was always ditching him with Dr. Donovan, but even Dr. Donovan didn't really have time for his nephew, running a big corporation and all.

"Poor kid doesn't really have anyone to look after him like you do. He'd get in a lot less trouble if he did that's for sure."

"You mean I have to pretend I like him?!"

"I'm just saying you should be more understanding."

Easy for him to say! Big Guy didn't have to put up with jerks like Pierre. Still… Rusty sighed, his struggle over doing what he wanted (telling Pierre to buzz off) and doing something he really, really didn't want to do (letting Pierre stay). His conscience won. "I guess if you want to." Rusty then brightened. Might as well make lemonade. "You wanna play dominos?" Pierre folded his arms against his chest.

"Pft. No."

"Um, watch TV?"

"Nothing's on."

"Hide and go seek?"

"What are we, four?"

"Hock loogies on Dr. Don-- Um, on Dr. Pollack's car?"

"No and oh yeah… no."

Rusty shook his head at the older boy. "Cheese Louise, Pierre. Why do you even get up in the morning?"

"All your suggestions are childish."

"Well you're the one who wanted to do something! You pick then!" Pierre brought a finger to his chin, appearing to be in thought. Hopefully it wasn't about stealing or causing minor whadayacallems… "apocalypses".

"You know, I heard Dr. Slate was working with repulsor fields… Think she'd mind letting us have a peek? With adult supervision of course." He smiled a winning smile at Rusty, but Rusty wasn't fooled. All Pierre really wanted was to see Dr. Slate's invention and he needed his help to do it. It had nothing to do with wanting to do something with him.

"She's working right now." Rusty said, frowning disdainfully at him. "And even if she wasn't she wouldn't let you within sneezing distance of anything. She's still mad at you for draining her brain."

"God, I said I was sorry. No wonder everyone says she's frigid."

Frigid!?! Wha… What did frigid mean…? Well whatever it meant it was bad. Rusty hopped down from his bench and walked right up to Pierre, looking him straight in the eye with hands on his hips.

"Who's everyone?"

Pierre smirked. "Everybody. 'Cause she is. She's a total Ice Queen." Rusty's jaw dropped, completely shocked.

"She is not!"

"Is too. You'd get a ice cream headache if you kissed her too fast."

Rusty glared at the other boy, his temper flaring up. "You take that back!" Pierre lightly pushed Rusty, daring him to push back. Boy, was this guy stupid. Genius my butt!

"Make me," Pierre said simply, pushing just a bit harder, thoroughly enjoying working Rusty into a frenzy.

"I will make you!"

"I don't see you making me."

Pierre pushed him again, Rusty clenching his hands into tight little fists. "You don't have it in ya, ya wuss. My Uncle Axle would throw you in the grinder if you even touched a beautiful hair on my darling head. He owns you and you know it."

Counting to ten... One, two, three…

"I'm not afraid of Dr. Donovan. I'm not afraid of anybody! Especially you!"

Four, five, six, seven…

"Only reason I'm not laying the smacketh down is 'cause you're a human."

Eight, nine, ten. Hmm… Lieutenant Dwayne's right. That doesn't work.

Thankfully (for Pierre that is) the signal went off and Rusty gasped, Pierre temporarily forgotten, and he stood tall with heroic purpose ready for a real battle. Making Pierre pay would have to wait. There were bigger fish to fry! Pierre had to go and ruin the moment of course…

"The Big Guy Signal!" Pierre mocked.

Big fat, fatty fat of a meanie! "I wasn't going to say that," Rusty said coolly.

"Were too."

"Were not."

"Were too."

Then Dr. Slate called from downstairs. "Rusty!" Why anyone wouldn't like Dr. Slate Rusty couldn't guess. She was the nicest person ever. He lifted his nose at Pierre, trying to be just as snooty as he was.

I'll take care of you later. "Excuse me, but I have to go save the world now." Rusty started his boot jets, lifting off the floor and about to fly downstairs. Before he left though, he looked over his shoulder at Pierre. "And uh… Don't touch any of my stuff." Heh.

He let Pierre chew on that, leaving the boy to fume as he flew down to Dr. Slate's lab. Rusty found her at her computer, talking into a headset. She seemed tense which made Rusty tense. Something really bad must be happening. "Slate to Pit Crew: Please respond." He swooped down behind her, hovering over Dr. Slate's shoulder as they looked at the scrambled static on her monitor. "This is Dr. Slate, over. Does anyone read me?"

"What's the poop?" Rusty asked. Dr. Slate twisted around to see him, brows shooting up.

"The poop?"

"The skinny, the lowdown, the word. Y'know, the poop."

"Don't say poop, Rusty." Dr. Slate admonished. "And to answer your question… I don't know yet. I received a signal, but I haven't been able to get a hold of anyone." She turned back to her computer, trying to improve the signal but not making much progress. "Pit Crew come in. Legion-One… Oh forget it."

Finally fed up, Dr. Slate started typing, her fingers flying over the keys super fast. Rusty figured she'd make a pretty good robot seeing as how she could do that. "Go see if anything is on the news."

"But shouldn't I report to the Dark Horse or something?"

"No, not until I contact Big Guy or the Pit Crew. I'm not sending you out there without knowing what's going on."

Rusty sighed. Shoot. "Oh, all right…" He flew back towards his room, shoulders drooping. He would be better help if he went to the Dark Horse. But nooooo, I have to stay here like a coward. If it were Big Guy, he'd just go in guns a'blazing.

Rusty found Pierre still in his room (and touching his stuff!), drawing on his Big Guy poster with a black magic marker. Big Guy had a big mustache and pointy beard, with a word balloon making him say 'Guess what comes out of my butt.' Rusty stared in dismay, bringing his hands to his cheeks. "What are you doing?!?" Pierre spun around, startled to have someone suddenly behind him, and then grinned.

"I was just coloring…"

"You… You ruined it!!!" Rusty snatched the marker away from Pierre, completely at a loss as to why he would do such a thing. Big Guy was the greatest and all he ever did to Pierre was save his life!

"Boo-hoo. Somebody call the whaaaa-bulance. I've defiled the Big Guy shrine."

"I don't care what Big Guy said about you! You're… You're just evil, Pierre!"

Then the floor suddenly shook, a terrible crash coming from downstairs, and they both struggled to keep balance as a large crack climbed up the opposite wall. They glanced at each other, the realization of what was happening sinking in like an anchor as the floor of Rusty's entire room started to crumble and give way. "Not good," Rusty said before the floor was no longer under their feet, but crashing down. Pierre screamed as they fell and Rusty rushed towards him, grabbing him awkwardly by the ankle just before he went splat on the, rubble covered floor Dr. Slate's lab.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod!" Pierre cried as Rusty placed him down gently as possible. He ran out of the lab, tripping and stumbling over the debris on the way. He was safe. Which left Rusty to find the person he was most concerned about.

"DOCTOR SLATE!" He searched her lab. Most of it littered with broken pieces of concrete and all his possessions. Broken toys didn't matter right now though. Dr. Slate did and when he didn't see her anywhere he let out a loud sigh of relief. She must have got up and went while he was upstairs. The first thing he had ever been afraid of in his brief existence was something happening to his creator.

The sound of thrusters burning behind him made Rusty whip around to see Big Guy right outside the massive hole in the wall that somebody had decided to put there and a huge smile came to his face. "Big Guy!" Rusty exclaimed, relieved to see his partner was here. Big Guy would take care of everything. "Big Guy, there was some sort of explosion and--" Big Guy released the proton cannon in his left wrist and aimed it right at Rusty. "…Um, Big Guy?"

"The one and only" he said coldly. "Now who's hankerin' for a spankerin'?" The familiar sound of the canon warming up allowed Rusty a split second to dive out of the way of the blast as it went through the other wall. Rusty ducked and rolled, trying to comprehend why this was happening.

"What are you doing?!?" Rusty demanded. He wasn't sure if this was Big Guy or not. Big Guy had malfunctioned before, but then he'd also had evil twins before too. Neither sounded very good and whoever he was he was going to hit the nucleo-proton pump if he wasn't careful. They'd all be dead meat and scrap metal then. Better get 'im away from here. Away from all the people… Rusty heavily charged his hands and made a shot at Big Guy's eyes as came after him. Big Guy would have a hard time fighting if he couldn't see Rusty reasoned, and it wouldn't damage him too much. Direct hit! Big Guy stumbled backwards and fell right out of the hole in the wall! "I nailed him! Uh, I mean sorry…" Rusty flew towards the hole, looking down as it began to rain outside, water lightly tapping on his head. He didn't see Big Guy anywhere. "Big Guy…?" Rusty called out worriedly. What if it really was Big Guy and he'd hurt 'im?

"GLORY STOMP!"

Rusty gasped and zipped out of the way of Big Guy's foot as it grinded into the lab floor, tile cracking like eggshells. Rusty quickly flew up into the sky, maneuvering behind Big Guy and prepared to fire on his utility hatch. If he could breech Big Guy's hull he'd have a chance. Big Guy was softer on the inside like he was. No dice. Big Guy spun around fast, his face damaged but rapidly being repaired.

"Whoa. No way." Rusty said in disbelief. "Your face is growing back…" His brief pause proved to be a huge mistake. Big Guy hit Rusty with a massive fist, pounding him into the side of the Tower and leaving a dumbstruck Rusty smashed into a big, crumbling impact crater.

"Yeah, now if I could only do something about that burning, itching sensation…" Big Guy said, watching as Rusty plummeted twenty-nine stories down then leaving another crater in the Earth.

***

Consciousness came slowly.

(Name?! Rank?!)

(I think you killed him this time, Griff.)

Last time he took a friendly bet, by God. When was he going to learn? Stubborn as a mule but not half as smart his Dad would say.

(Dwayne? You all right in there?)

No… That wasn't it. There were noises, whooping, louder and louder. Making his head ache to its rhythm. It was Big Guy's master alarms. Maybe all of them. Bringing him back to Earth and letting him know that something was wrong.

Dwayne cracked his eyes open to see through the cracked visor of his helmet. Everything was red, flashing alarms painting the cockpit the color of blood off and on, off and on. Glittering silver veins interwoven and pulsing in the entire cockpit. It looked like he had been swallowed whole. And even more distressing was that he couldn't move. Something heavy was pressing against him, an enormous weight on his chest the worst. What had happened again?

Dwayne took in a sharp intake of breath and stared down at himself, seeing the same metal as before pinning him down. His chest, thighs, legs-- held down by a metallic, squirming ooze. Oh yeah… Man, I really need to start keeping a diary of these things.

This reminded him of those insects nailed down through the center in Biology class. Only instead of that, thank God, he was smothered by it. A small grace at least, but he could only force so much oxygen into his lungs. His arm too. Sharp, shooting pains traveled up and down his left arm. His wrist…. Broke it when…

(I think I'm in trouble here!)

It broke his wrist when he reached for the ejection handle. Dwayne searched for it and then finally realized he was at an odd angle. Further down and to the right. When the hell did that happen? When he found the ejection handle he tried to reach it with his bad hand because it was simply closer to it, which really hurt like a mother. The transmorphic metal that held his arm down was too hard to fight against. That and, yeah, it just really hurt. Shock is over, baby. It was too far. Even with the metal thinner now, it was still strong enough to keep him in here. He tried again anyway, letting out a grunt as he strained. His throat also sore because…

Because it had nearly choked him to death. When Big Guy grabbed Jo he had been able to open his emergency kit, spilling what he was looking for to the floor… It had wrapped around his neck and choked him until everything had gone black.

"They sure don't make them like they used too, ey' little buddy?"

Big Guy's voice boomed in his ears. The radio in his helmet suddenly turned back on. The sudden noise made Dwayne jump.

"I mean really, where did the craftsmanship go? Astro Boy rip-off."

The main monitor came back online. Allowing Dwayne to finally see what was going on outside. He appeared to be several feet in the air as Big Guy looked down at a neatly manicured lawn. The back and forth stripes of freshly cut grass interrupted by a big hole in the dirt and a smaller red dot in the middle. Big Guy flew down to it, the image growing bigger and bigger until Dwayne could distinguish the red dot as Rusty. Something cold passed through his gut when saw the poor kid face down and perfectly still. Panic settled in again as Dwayne searched for the damn flare gun. The goddamn flare gun, where the f*#% was the goddamn flare gun?!?

"Since you're bright eyed and bushy tailed, I thought you should see this." Big Guy said in a jolly tone. "Don't get scared now."

Big Guy touched down into the grimy mud hole the kid had made and knelt down beside him, flipping Rusty over to see his face slightly caved in and nose crushed. A permanently frozen expression, teeth bare in a grimace and eyes shut tight.

(No pain receptors!)

Rusty's facial "muscles" hadn't relaxed like they were supposed to.

"How's the proverb go?" Big Guy asked. "Don't dig your enemy's grave, you might fall into it? Or something like that. Where's that from, Dwayne? I can't remember."

Where IS it?!

"Well?!" Big Guy bellowed, crushing him in its grip again, the flare gun temporarily forgotten as it took particular relish on his wrist. The corners of his vision turned white.

"Russian!" Dwayne gasped, his lungs fighting for air. "It's… Russian!"

It relaxed its hold on him and the whiteness faded as Big Guy took a more casual tone, as if it thought of them as two friends just shooting the breeze.

"That's right. Chernobyl said that didn't he? When he attacked the White House?"

"Y-yes…"

"Man, good times, good times. I miss the Cold War. Just you and me saving America."

Big Guy stared down at Rusty. "Just us." It then carefully put it's other fist around Rusty's head, pulling it off as green nucleo-protons spit out from detached wires.

"Rusty!"

"But this time it's different." Big Guy said in smug satisfaction. "I'm wearing the Daddy pants now." He held the severed head up to his face, Rusty's damaged face larger than life on the monitor. "See?"

(No pain receptors!)

"I… see it." You son of a bitch!

"Good. I'm glad we worked this out."

Florescent metal bled from Big Guy's hand, seeping into Rusty's cranium seamlessly as he reattached it to Rusty's neck, melding it back on with the advanced nanotechnology. Rusty's face also seemed to magically heal itself and Big Guy dropped him unceremoniously to the ground.

"Welcome to the club, kid."

Part of Dwayne was immensely relieved as Big Guy left Rusty behind in his mud hole to the point that he had a case of the shakes afterwards, but the other part reasoned that what had happened wasn't all that good either. The same thing that had taken over the BGY-11 was now in Rusty also.

What Big Guy was about to do now didn't seem all that rosy either. Big Guy shot up into the sky, infrared scanners coming online to make the walls of Quark disappear. Seeing all the frantic people inside as they prepared for a monster attack like little ants as their hill was being decimated. The bad guys had hijacked an exo-suit and the Legend-One. Together they could level the city in thirty minutes.

Quark was doomed.

Big Guy went inside a gaping hole in the side of the Tower. Dwayne recognizing it as Slate's lab as Big Guy landed again, zooming in on what it wanted the probe from last night. All of this? Doing God knows what to Jo, Mack, and Rusty for this?

Had to find the flare gun. Fire would kill this thing. Fire kills everything.

Dwayne craned his head down as far as he could, searching for it. He had spilled a number of things on the floor, mostly medical supplies, and shuffled through it with his feet. While he did this Big Guy stomped over to Slate's desk and with a single finger touched the probe, again the same nanotechnolgy reactivating the small device. It levitated in the air, its eye zooming out to get a clearer view of the large robot.

"Home." Big Guy said.