Well, first Fanfic, guys. I hope to bring a semi-decent one here, as there aren't enough. I'd like it if you respond, but as a fellow reader of fanfiction, I understand that most don't review. I won't threaten to put it on hold if you don't, but I'd really like it if you'd review my story. Best of luck!
Shire Village, ****x, 20 years after Ragnarok crashed
Crash! "What happened?" The citizens of Shire were at a loss when they saw it at first- an aircraft built for one person on a steep descent towards Earth. They were a tough crowd, used to frequent raids from marauding mavericks, but this was something they weren't used to. They stared uselessly at the spiraling aircraft, praying against reason that whoever the pilot was would be all right.
Sometimes, you just can't help but feel that life sucks sometimes. You have no idea. The lone survivor of the crash stared gloomily at the wreckage of the aircraft that he was on before- before what?, he asked himself suddenly. What just happened? The blonde survivor racked his memory, but found nothing, but a string of letters and numbers. s-7_4, c-8_2, q- 9_2, r –5_3, d-21_7, c- 9_7. At last, he picked himself up and looked to the east. A town… Maybe they can help me understand what's going on.
Narrowed blue eyes scanned the surrounding city hungrily, looking for any sign of a familiar face. At last, he was stopped by a voice that appeared from the shadows. "What's a kid like yourself doing out here? Come on kid, say something." The voice wasn't unkind, but the unknown kid shrank back as he sensed the presence of several others that had been following him before.
"What do you want?" The golden-haired boy stood his ground, scanning for any sign of an escape as the shady group closed on him. "I haven't got any money, if that's what you want."
The apparent leader of the group looked genuinely offended. "Hey come on, kid. Were just looking out for any newcomers." At first his stomach was in control, but soon the kid regained control of his senses.
"No thanks," he muttered as he flung a cart towards them with inhuman strength. Whoa, did I just do that, he asked himself in shock. No matter, I gotta get out of here. Ignoring the shouts of the other civilians, he made a mad dash towards the other side. This is just not my day. When he finally lost the group, he groaned inwardly as he surveyed the situation presented to him. I have no food, I'm being hunted by a bunch of people, and I don't even know who I am. Guess I'll go see what the heck that guy was going to say. But as he crossed the streets back to where the confrontation was, immediately he sensed something was wrong. Smoke was coming from the area, and a major firefight was being played with a few reploids and the group from before. Safe behind a barricade of broken carts and splayed machine parts the humans had collected, the civilians cowered as the mavericks continued their rampage. The things I do for food, he thought as he grabbed a blaster from a nearby rack. "Saire! They're closing in on us!" Shouts from all sides could be barely heard amid the chaos. "Could someone explain what's going on," their newest fighter shouted to the nearest human.
"Maverick raid," they replied back grimly. "Just aim for their heads, and hope you don't get hit. He gripped his new weapon tightly, aiming towards the lead maverick, a defective green security reploid. Before he fired, however, he noticed something no-one else did; they had a hostage.
"Stop! Stop firing!" Despite his increasingly desperate cries, he was unheard. Guess I'm going to have to do this on my own. What have I gotten myself in to? Diving into the hail of fire, he closed in to the alley where two humans lay unconscious. "Where is he?" The golden haired kid looked around, but saw no sign of the maverick with the hostage. Then, seemingly oblivious to the boy, a figure rose from the form of the humans, blade raised in mid-air. As it lunged, however, its would-be victim ducked, taking a shot at the maverick.
"How did you know," the maverick hissed. Its voice had an odd rasp to it that made his opponent's hair stand on end.
"You only had one hostage," he crowed, gun in hand. "Now be a good maverick and stand still.
"Don't think so," the maverick whispered, and, with surprising speed sliced the weapon in half. As the halves of the blaster fell to the floor, the maverick calmly stepped forward. "That was meant to be your hand," he said dispassionately. Oh, well. Without your gun, you puny humans are defenseless.
Great. Just great. ?'s eyes gazed disbelievingly at the two halves of the weapon, now utterly useless. Time for plan B- run like hell. Before the maverick realized what he was doing, he feinted towards the maverick, swerving into a near alley. Good, the boy reflected, as he saw the maverick follow, away from the sleeping victim. Wait, now what am I gonna do?"
"I have you now," the maverick shouted triumphantly, as he closed in on the boy. Just before he could bring the blade down on his neck, however, the kid, raised his hand, and a razor thin energy saber shot out of the his left wrist, bringing the enemies sword to a crashing halt. Like it had a mind of its own, the blade parried again and again, bringing the defective reploid to a stop. The instant he did, however, a glimmer of recognition glared in the enemy's red eyes, and he slumped to the floor.
"What happened," one of the humans shouted to the boy, noticing the maverick on the floor.
"I-I don't know," he stammered. The other human's eyes widened at the sight of the sword protruding from his hand.
"What are you," the fighter whispered hoarsely. "Monster!" Before the kid could answer, he fled, more scared of the boy than the reploid on the floor.
"Some sword you got there, kid."
The golden haired child turned to face the same person who stopped him earlier. "What am I?" He stared at his hands in shock, almost unable to comprehend what happened.
"Dunno. You sure did us a favor, though, that's for sure. If you ask me, that guy should have shown a little more respect to the guy that saved his life. Dimly the golden-haired kid remembered the unconscious figure on the floor, like another lifetime ago. "Well, don't just stand there, what's your name?"
"Well, well, well. That is an interesting story." Saire nodded his head slowly. "So you have no idea who you are, except for a bunch of numbers in your head, huh?
The kid nodded in return, unsure if he believed him or not. "Yeah. That's about it? Do you believe me or not?"
"Well, under any other circumstance, I'd say that you were crazy, but certain details do add up. Like that ship of yours for instance. You said you had some sort of code in your head. Do you remember it?
"s-7_4, c-8_2, q- 9_2, r –5_3, d-21_7, c- 9_." It doesn't mean anything though, does it?"
Saire stared at the string of numbers in his hand before replying, "It looks like you have a code here, kid. It can only be cracked with its cipher. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?"
He shook his head. "No, nothing."
"Well, then. You obviously have a mysterious past, you don't now who you are, and to top it off, you have skills as a warrior as well. Looks like you could use a cipher your self. He snapped his hands as an idea came to him. "That's it! We'll call you Cipher! Is that all right with you?"
Cipher nodded. (You have no idea how good it feels to have a name for him) "Cipher. Yeah, I like it. By the way, who are you guys?"
Saire laughed. "That's right. We must have given you quite a scare back then. Don't worry, we're not thieves. Well, not that kind of thief anyway. We're hackers."
"Hackers!" Cipher sat up alert. Hackers were known for their bad reputation throughout the world.
"Don't worry kid," Saire said as he noticed the familiar note of suspicion in Cipher's eyes. "We're like sharks. We really don't deserve the bad rep that's put against us."
Cipher was still considering Saire's choice to model them off. He could think off better ways to compare yourself than to a shark. "Fine, I'll take the bait. Where are we going?"
Saire grinned. "To our base of operations, kid. By the way, the big guy over there's Rey, and the short guy next to him, we call him The Prophet. Don't ask. There's also Rogue, the guy with the unkempt black hair, and Spider, the thin, wiry guy that'll probably be back with a lot of 'borrowed' merchandise. He's the only one you should keep you hands on your wallet while passing him by. That's just about everyone. Welcome to the club, kid."