Disclaimer: All characters are copyright to MYSELF. The only stuff that I feel should be copyrighted to anyone else are story elements, and some things that are mentioned, along with the designs, which should be credited to CAPCOM, and the creator of TRIGUN, among others. (Whoever can tell me his name will get my blessings, since I am too damn lazy to remember for myself. :P)

-Aftermath-

Chapter One - "Starting from the End"

It was the year 22XX. After the destruction of Maverick Hunter Far East HQ, and the confirmation of Colonel Redips' betrayal, the other powers of Maverick Hunter took extreme caution in what any of them were capable of. So far, the only other Hunter who had copy abilities was the Class S Hunter, Axl, but according to DNA tests, he was incapable of going Maverick through copying bodies. However, it was still made clear to keep an eye out for any suspicious signs. For others it was a time for preparations as the multiple divisions began looking for new recruits, willing to defend the lives of the innocent.

While most of the Reploids who were Hunters were made to be in the war, it was sometimes required to enlist additional support. It wasn't the most effective way to get soldiers, since they had to be trained, whereas the ones who were built for fighting purposes only didn't need any guidance, save a battalion to join with. It was no different at Maverick Hunter 22nd Unit, South Division, as a group of young Reploids stood at attention as they listened attentively to their new leader.

"All right, listen up. Today were going to go over field work," Captain Hoover, a large, well-built Reploid with a loud, deep voice, who always had a hardened look, called out. "I'm going to request two volunteers, one as the Hunter, and the other as the operator. You might as well just do so, since if you don't, I'll end up picking the two who are shaking the most."

Immediately, one hand shot up. Hoover gave a quick smirk before giving off another of his hardened looks. "All right, Starfighter. Get over here."

Starfighter, a red-headed Reploid, who instead of having a helmet had white earpieces, ran up to the commander and gave a salute. His armor was an an emerald green, and his shoulder pads and boots were some red emblems, which matched his hair, and were of slightly curved stars. He also had gold triangle-shaped cuffs for his gauntlets and boots. He had a confident smile, and it there was a reason why--he was one of the best recruits, and he had a gift when it came to operating. Both he and everyone else knew it.

"Anyone else?" Hoover called out again. Not getting a response, he sighed and motioned for one of the others to come. He then assigned the two the positions they would be the most capable at handling. After getting them prepared, he spoke again. "Okay, so, this mission is going to be based on how many targets you can skillfully avoid. You must work with your operator in order to successfully dodge all of them. The key to this mission is team work. Do you both understand?"

"Yes sir!" they both called out. Starfighter was in a small room behind Hoover, who kindly stepped out of the way for him to see. It wasn't like it was a big deal, though. After all, if he got hit, it wouldn't kill him since it was only paint. Still, it was his job to use his skills to the best of his abilities as an operator... Listening to Commander Hoover on his earpiece, he readied himself for him to yell "Begin" and allow the test to begin. However, before he could do that, he saw something which made his eyes widen in horror...

"C-Captain!"

Hoover couldn't reply as himself saw it, but it was too late. A giant ball of plasma had crashed onto the training course, followed by a large explosion. Starfighter watched in horror as the captain and the rest of the recruits were torn to shreds by its sheer power, and then as he noticed the room he was in slowly start to fall apart. Without any other options, he clutched onto his keyboard, which was built into the desk, as he was lifted off his feet. While the explosion had ended, it had created a large, powerful wind to pick up, tearing up the ground beneath him. Grass, dirt, and even trees flew past him as he tried his best to hold on for dear life. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he let go, and as if to answer that thought, a tremor started, causing his grip to shake loose. If people were capable of just standing there, all they would see would be a young Reploid, flying off into a cycling vortex, screaming.

Elsewhere, the same thing was happening. Not just at the Maverick Hunter HQ, but everywhere, from the high-tech city of Megalopolis, to uninhabitable areas, such as the Pacific Ocean. While it may not seem as such a big deal, this caused powerful tidal waves to pick up, crashing into places that were already being beaten down by the sudden assault. Volcanoes, something that had to eventually be copied by the power of science, had arose from the said ocean and almost immediately began to erupt, causing molten rock to fly. Earthquakes began to pick up, tearing open the very Earth, and even cause both humans and Reploids to fall, and those who weren't as lucky sometimes where crushed as the the plates slammed back shut. It seemed that everywhere, disasters of all types where spreading, and no one knew what to do.

This day was the beginning of something which was later called, the "Elf Wars." Dr. Weil, a scientist gone mad, had stolen the Mother Elf from her containment and altered her original data, thus putting a 'curse' on her. Renamed the Dark Elf, Weil used her powers to take control of innocent Reploids and Mechaniloids alike, and then took control of military bases world-wide, enabling him to have full access to the most potent weapons ever constructed. However, his trumph card was the super power known simply as Omega--a Reploid that was considered to be the most powerful Reploid ever alive. It took a total of four whole years of endless fighting until Omega was defeated by X and Zero. But due to its incredible endurance, all they could do was blast it off into space, and exiled Weil from X's new utopia, Neo Arcadia... In fact, so many things had happened, no one was even certain what happened to Zero, as he silently disappeared after the whole ordeal was over with. And, with humanity on the verge of extinction, the world had to rebuild itself.

Five years later...

The world had finally gotten to a point where it seemed stable. Many of the worlds nations were under the watch of Neo Arcadia, where humans were protected, and peace prospered. Outside, while it wasn't as peaceful, both humans and Reploids tried to their best to make their habitat the best it could possible be. Like the bustliness of Vurious, for example: a city was that large, metallic, yet strangely the people who lived their prefered simpler things, such as walking to places, rather than using airships. It was truly a strange site, but it was what the people there considered to be their true home, and they weren't about to let some 'super-city' come in and act like it was buying their lives, despite the urges of any relatives that may have already made themselves comfortable in their new home.

In one such part of the city, the local pub had become a haven of sorts for wanderers, having no where particular in mind, just stopping by for a drink or two. Some gathered together for some chatting about the types of adventures they went on, others decided it would be best to have a game or two to see who truly was the greatest of the bunch. Nonetheless, it as quite a busy place, which suited the owner just fine.

"Hey, hurry it up already, boy!" he yelled, behind the counter. Starfighter emerged, with a tired look on his face. No longer did he bear a confident smile, and his armor was dull and dirty--not the original polish it once had. A few cuts could also be found here and there, but nothing too serious. Of course, no one ever seemed to notice. "Did ya clean all of the glasses?"

Starfighter gave a small nod. "Yessir, all of them are as clean as clean can be."

"Good, good," he said, smiling. "I'm glad I hired ya, son. Listen, I have to go sign some stuff, so I want'cha to take over. Got it?"

"Sure thing, boss. But, uh..." Starfighter scratched his head, "What do you have to sign?"

All he got was an audible sigh as he was handed a wash cloth, and the old Reploid trudged upstairs, a place that was off limits to the rest of the pub. Shrugging, he made his way behind the counter and began wiping a random glass to pass the time. It had only been five years since the Elf Wars had ended, but it sure did seem it was a lot longer to him. He hardly remembered the incidents before that, with him training to become a navigator for the Maverick Hunters... Of course, he still had 'the gift.' It was just impossible to find someone that actually needed such skills. So here he was, working at a bar. Giving out his own sigh, he then noticed something different from the usual line up of Reploids that came here... but he couldn't put his finger on it. Scanning the room, he eventually spotted a lone figure in the back corner, covered in brown rags. the only thing that was visible were his white gloves, and the bottom of what he assumed to be completely black boots. Something about the rags, however, lead him to suspect he had a weapon of some sort, such as a saber, attached to his back.

"Hey, who the heck is that?" he turned to no one in particular.

The Reploid just gave a brief glance and shrugged. "He just showed up today. Someone tried talkin' to him, but he just ignored 'em."

"Hmm, I see. Thanks." The Reploid just went back to paying attention to his already empty glass, as Starfighter decided to have a little chat with the mysterious stranger. Walking up behind him, he paused briefly, wondering if he somehow knew that he was coming. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he cut straight to the point. "So, who're you?"

And then the waiting began. He just stood there, waiting for an answer from the cloaked man, who didn't even acknowledge that he had been asked a question. Waiting longer, he saw that he had actually started drinking a glass of scotch, which proved that he was correct in his assumption. Getting angry he took a step forward.

"Hey! When someone asks you a question, you should be courteous enough to answer!"

"Hmph..." was what he got. "I don't tell anyone my name unless I know who I'm talking to..."

That dumbfounded him a bit. He hadn't expected that as an answer, really. After all, he just wanted to know his name. But, in order for him to actually know him, he would have to hang around with him, but then he'd have to know who HE was so he could do so. Boy, did his head sure hurt from that logic, especially after he decided to say it twice in a row. Trying to get around that, he quickly said, "The name's Starfighter," in a bragging sort of way, for some odd reason. "Now, you?"

Of course, he didn't get a response, as the man just continued to work on his drink. He was then handed the empty glass, and was waved off, as if he expected him to just give him a refill and be on his way. Not wanting to get on his bad side, he quickly walked back and pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured it, and then came back post-haste. Politely handing him the glass, he then put a hand on his waste and tapped his boot lightly.

"Are you going to answer me?" he finally asked, getting impatient.

There was another moment of silence. By then, Starfighter was getting tired of it, but before he walked away he heard him mumble, "Just stay back... I don't like dealing with strangers..." From that he concluded that he obviously didn't get out much... or he did but isolated himself from any form of real life. Either way it wasn't good for holding any sort of interesting conversations. The rest of the day was pretty much like this as well, with some people coming and going, save the mystery man. Eventually, the owner came back down, looking refreshed.

"Rake in any cash while I was away?" he asked, as if desperate.

"Eh, the same amount we usually make," Starfighter answered, still not being able to get the mystery man out of his mind. Then pointing at him, he spoke, "Say, you wouldn't know anything about that guy over there, would you?"

"Hmm?" he looked over there to see the pile rags, moving every so often. He tried to think of some people who could possibly fit that description, but nothing came. "Nope, don't recognize him at all. Why ya ask?"

"Oh, heh heh... It's nothing, really," Starfighter laughed to himself a bit. "I was just curious. That's all."

The bartender just shrugged his shoulders as he left to take his position back, relieving the the young Reploid. Walking to the back room, Starfighter was just about to open the door when he heard a loud crash. "It's... a bomb!" He heard someone yell, causing not only him, but the rest of the people within to go into a state of panic. Doing the most logical thing, Starfighter got into the room and slammed the door, just as the bomb went off. However, it wasn't an ordinary bomb, as it released a strange, yellowish gas. Puzzled, the Reploids were eventually consumed and soon felt like they were being turned inside out, making most of them clutch their heads in agony as they slowly crumpled to the floor, helpless. Not being one to just let something unanswered, Starfighter cracked the door slightly open and peered outside after the screaming had stopped. Before he could do anything else, though, he heard someone go "Yeehaw!" and in the blink of an eye around twenty different Reploids had made their way in, knocking down the door.

"Heh heh heh..." one laughed. "So, boss, y'like?"

The head honcho, a tall, lanky Reploid stepped out of the crowed and peered out over what they had obviously done. "Eh, not bad. Not bad." He said aloud, putting one long hand over his brown eyes. His armor was mostly red, with some brown gauntlets and boots, and his face was about as long as the rest of himself was, with a small, round nose in the middle and a headful of brownish-red hair, his side burns stretching their way downward. He had a big old grin on his face, one that made it obvious that he was up to no good. Not wanting to be seen, Starfighter didn't move an inch, as his own eyes followed the figure as he stepped up toward the bartender.

"Hey there, partner," he said, sounding almost as if he were an old friend. "I'm gonna be nice about this. Just tell us where you keep the money, and we'll be on our own, little way."

"Hah, like I'd tell ya!" the owner barked, still in pain, and unable to move. "You gotta be low, attackin' some bar and askin' for money like that!"

His reply was a kick in the face. His head knocking up against the wall, various bottles fell from their places and crashed, one even striking him on the head, knocking him senseless. Before he even had a chance to recover, his face was met with his boot again, but this time it was softer, just so he could press on it, sandwiching his face in between both the wall and the foot. Starfighter could barely hold back the gulp that wanted to go down his throat. He didn't even notice that he had started to hold his breath.

"Fucking bastard." The boss spoke, angry, but he still retained the grin. "You have no idea who the Hell your messing with."

"Hey Jack, shouldn't we--" one lackey spoke right before being struck across the face, leaving a red hand print on his cheek. "W-what the heck was THAT for!"

The grin had faded at that point, as Jack fixated his gaze cigarette he had put into his mouth, and lighted it. Turning his attention back to the man he struck, he casually spoke, "The name isn't Jack anymore, bitch." They all just stared at him, confused. "We're gonna be going places, see. And because of that the leader--which is me--is going to need a more memorable name than just 'Jack.'" He paused for a second, as if thinking of something that would be at least a little intimidating. "No need to be fancy, though. I'll just settle with Jackle. Jackle O'Riely, that is."

The guys just looked at each other and then back to their leader. "Uh, no problem, boss." One said. "Yeah... Jackle is an awesome name!" Another agreed. Eventually they were all talking amongst themselves, about the name change, and so Starfighter, who had finally realized that he was lacking oxygen, finally opened his mouth to exhale. No one heard him, except one. With a sharp turn Jackle had kicked the door that Starfighter was behind with so much force it caused it to go sailing across the small washing room, crashing into the wall in back, leaving the boy out in the open, with a blank expression on his face.

"Well, well! What do we have here?" he grinned again, pulling Starfighter up by his hair. He then grabbed him by the shoulders, and pushed him into his group of thugs, which they immediately grabbed. He then walked up to him, leaned forward and blew some smoke in his face, causing him to cough, as he said "How much did you here, punk?"

"Bleh... not much..." Starfighter admitted, truthfully. All he knew is that they were robbing the bar and that the leader renamed himself. "Seriously, you guys shouldn't be attacking such a small place. I mean... it's just lame."

"Hah! Did you guys hear that? He thinks that its lame!" Jackle laughed, which in turn caused everyone else to roar as well. Then, he immediately stopped, and everyone copied. Messing his hand through Starfighter's hair, he said roughly, "Don't you worry your pretty little head over it, son. This was just a little warm-up for the day. We have much, much bigger targets on our list!" Then, walking away, he signaled for two of his guys to come with him, as they made their way up the stairs. His voice could be heard up above: "I'm just gonna take a look around here, see if I can't find a safe of some sort. If I don't, well, I'm just gonna have to kill all of you."

That left about ten other guys with Starfighter. He realized that he was all alone, since no one else could help him. That is, until one of the guys made a small notice. "Hey, what the heck is that thing?" He questioned, pointing over to the Reploid in rags, who was still seated. The gang looked at each other, not understanding how someone could not have been affected by the gas. The biggest of the bunch, not fearing anything, stepped away from the rest as he made his way towards the mysterious person.

"Hey, for all we know, he coulda just frozen like dat," he said while walking away, sounding like quite the typical muscle head. Getting up behind him, he peered over him, just to make sure that he wasn't do anything. When he saw that he was doing absolutely nothing, he smiled to himself as he put his hand on his shoulder to spin him around. When he did, he earned himself a cold, dead stare as a massive sword was pulled out and sliced him right through the torso, making him fall in two, dead. The others, shocked to what just happened, quickly snapped out of it as one of them took a step forward and yelled "GET HIM!" Suddenly the remaining gang members charged, their weapons drawn.

Not wasting any time, the figure grabbed his cloak and tossed it off into one of the faces, causing him to reel back before prying it off his face, just to be met with the body of another member, whose limbs were sliced off, slam into him. Another member pulled out a giant hammer and swung it, but due to its overall slowness, he missed and had a sword thrusted into his gut, instantly killing him as well. Then, shaking the body loose from the sword, he swung it behind him, bashing it into another Reploids face, making him go flying to the ground. The others weren't as stupid, however, as they jumped back and pulled out their buster cannons and began firing rapidly. Taking it as a sign, he jumped and grabbed onto a light fixture that hung over them. Not wanting to him get away, they moved their fire onto the fixture right when he jumped off, causing it to crash and land on two of the Reploids, and another was sliced straight down the middle when the mysterious Reploid landed. Now in a state of panic, one of the members tried to run, but was hit in the back of the head, as the sword was treated like a throwing axe. Pulling it out of the dead skull, he turned to watch the last two run up after Jackle. With a sigh, he lowered his sword so it gently touched the ground, and turned to Starfighter.

"You okay?" He finally said.

"Y-yeah... I'll be fine..." Starfighter could only stutter. He was amazed at what just happened. "That was really..."

"It was nothing," he said darkly, walking away, his pure black armor having whatever light that was still left bounce off of him. The mask, which covered his face, only added onto to his mysteriousness. The most notable features were the little flip on the back of his helmet, and his giant, wider-than-it-was-long sword. Starfighter realized then that it seemed that even with the rags off he still didn't reveal much, as he slowly started making his way up the stairs, his sword swung over his shoulder. Then, something came to him.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned, an eye closed. "Hm?"

"Just..." he was trying hard not to stutter, "Just who the heck are you, anyways?"

And yet another moment of silence occured. The man's eye expression did not change, as he refused to even blink, as did Starfighter. Then, he turned around and started to walk back up the stairs, almost making Starfighter want to cry out in frustration. "Snyde. That's what they call me..." he heard him say as his boots finally disappeared from his sight. His mouth immediately dropped in surprise, not expecting to really get an answer. But, before he could congratulate himself on a job well done, he heard one of the innocent Reploids groan, making him realize he needed to get help. Taking one last look up the stairs, he ran out of the building in search of someone to find.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: If you haven't already guessed, this takes place after the Megaman X series, but waaay before the Megaman Zero series. My idea was originally to create some things that happened behind-the-scenes, and it was a video game idea. Of course, I needed an excuse to kick off the 'real' Megaman characters, so I used the Elf Wars as my tool (heehee). The setting, however, was supposed to be Trigun-like, so you can imagine it was hard to get down... Of course, I have so many different ideas from other anime/video games that the only those two will be the real eyecatchers, since it they all blend in well enough to be considered unique, if you can call it that. Anyways, please read and review! The forums I am also posting this at only has earned one review, even though I just posted chapter three there. Updates will come whenever I finish another chapter, or if I just feel like it.

Oh, and if any of you remember a slightly stupid Megaman IX script made by me... well, just forget that you ever saw it, since it sucked and I deleted it. >:O