Megaman X: Shadows
Author's Note: I DO NOT own any characters from Megaman X, only this particular plotline for which they are involved. As for this, it's a bit of an experiment that I've had ideas about for quite a while, but never got the chance to put them down. As for my other fanfictions, don't worry: they're still in my computer and being worked on. This is just a different take on things.
Prologue: A Fine Price
Date: April 20, 21XX
Six months after the events of Megaman X, Episode 6…
Dynamo spat the foul-tasting drink out of his mouth as soon as his taste buds assimilated it. The rancid fluid splattered on the coarse, rusty table; Dynamo crushed the cheap metallic cup in his hand as he coughed out the last droplets of the oil-drink, his mouth suddenly somehow bitter and salty at the same time. He cursed inwardly – Reploid refinery processes had gone down the tubes since the Great Collapse only a few years ago.
He managed to calm himself as he thought about it – there was really no one to blame but himself for the rotten taste in his mouth at the moment. Were it not for his assistance in contaminating Earth with the plague, most of the desolation and shortages that had now struck most of the planet may not have occurred.
But, business was business, like always. As long as Dynamo had a healthy stream of zenni in his accounts and as long as the bounty hunter trade was substantial on Earth, he would be content to live with fetid drinks.
Dynamo leaned back in the booth, glancing around the dimly-lit tavern at the lowly denizens. Most of them looked like they hadn't had a maintenance overhaul or even so much as a polishing in who-knew-how long. From what he knew about the remnant of the once-city of Cobura, it had turned into a makeshift pit-stop for the traveling Reploid civilians trying to pick their way through the ruined world.
Most of the plain-looking barflies didn't seem to take notice of his obvious military-grade armament as well as the sleek weapons – twin blaster pistols and his modified Laser Saber – strapped onto his body. That suited him well – with the exception of his brief visits to Maverick Hunter HQ prior to the Great Collapse, Dynamo had been unnoticed concerning his direct involvement in the spreading of the Sigma Virus and the eventual creation of the Zero Virus. No distress transmissions had been sent to the Earth-bound authorities when he attacked the station, and none escaped the colony alive. Such thoroughness had kept him out of even greater trouble with the Maverick Hunters – being implicated with Sigma in that plot probably would've made him the most wanted criminal on the face of the Earth.
But despite it all, I got away with my cash with barely a scratch on me while Sigma got royally trashed by the Daring Duo. Who says it doesn't pay to be a merc? Now all I gotta worry about is where to find some decent action around here…I haven't gotten any since before the Eurasia strike…
Dynamo shifted in the lightly-cushioned booth, his hand resting on his gun as two burly thugs tromped past him. One of them exchanged a nasty glance with him, but both continued onward without further concern. He smirked, patting the blaster reassuringly. It had helped him assassinate many targets and claim countless bounties over his career, and it nearly had allowed him to capture what would've been a prize pelt for Sigma.
I wonder what you're up to these days, X? Probably still keeping the peace as always, you little do-gooder...
He barely noticed the main entrance to the tavern open and close again as he recalled his past encounters with X and his blonde-haired partner. True, he had multiple opportunities to destroy both of them, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Both of them were incredibly skilled, morally committed…and just so frightfully dedicated to their job. It was always perversely entertaining to watch them try their hardest for the purpose of preserving peace, justice, happiness, and that silly garbage that Maverick Hunters seemed to reek of.
One day I'll settle the score with them, but only after someone puts a high enough price on their heads.
Sigma had made a generous offer on both of the Hunters, but he obviously wasn't around to pay up should Dynamo have gotten the job done. And since the Great Collapse, the bounty hunting circuit had gone slightly south as some of the regular clients preferred to concentrate on survival rather than vengeance during the bad times. The largest posted bounty out on the market at the moment was seven thousand zenni, which was abysmally low considering previous years' standards.
So until then, keep doing your good.He smirked to himself as he prepared to stand from the table. He'd wasted enough time and cash in this cheap establishment – maybe he'd find some better entertainment in the next town over.
"Mister Dynamo?" As the bounty hunter adjusted his bright red visor, he was surprised to hear an elder male voice address him from his right. Automatically laying a hand on his blaster, he cocked his head toward the voice. It was then that he spotted an older-looking Reploid wearing a finely-tailored tan cloak looking directly at him with a pair of steel blue eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. He was well-groomed, bearing a head of thinning gray hair and a finely trimmed mustache and beard. His facial muscles were chiseled, giving him the focused gaze of a diplomat or politician. Off-hand, he looked fairly harmless, but Dynamo's grip on his blaster remained firm – he knew better than to underestimate the trash festering around the area.
"What's it to you?"
"You've earned some repute around this area," The old man continued, unfazed by Dynamo's defiance. His voice was deep and regal, speaking with crisp diction. "When this city of Cobura still stood here, you were among its underworld's favorite bounty hunters. It's such a shame that the Great Collapse claimed the life of what used to be a glorious metropolis."
Dynamo's internal warning klaxons blared as he tensed his body. Not many people had known about his service to the Cryslix kingpins that once dominated Cobura, and most of the ones who did were dead by his hands. How could he have been found out by such a feeble old codger? He must've had something to do with the Maverick Hunters, or perhaps worse…
Either way…
In a quick, fluid motion, Dynamo snapped the blaster out of its holster and whirled around in the direction of the old Reploid. He extended his arm and releasing a plasma burst that should've decapitated him. To his surprise, the old man swiftly ducked his head to the right, and the blast flew across the tavern, striking the automated door on its rusty hinges and sending a resounding echo throughout the pub's dingy walls. Most of the patrons dove for cover in panic as the ancient door gave way, crashing to the ground with a resounding noise.
Dynamo was stunned – he'd never missed with that gun, ever.
"What the…?"
Before Dynamo could react, a brilliant burst of light flashed in front of his eyes, and as a shrill sound filled his audio receptors, Dynamo glanced at his outstretched arm to see the back end of the blaster pistol smoking in his hand. The front end of the weapon clattered onto the floor, the metal red hot and emitting small wisps of smoke.
Dynamo gazed over at the elder Reploid, who was brandishing a green laser saber with a curved handle in his hands. Sheer concentration was on his face, as if all of his focus had been centered in being able to sense the laser blast coming, dodging it, and retaliating in such a deft, precise manner.
But why hasn't he gutted me yet? If he could dodge that shot so quickly, I should be on the ground coughing up my fluids right now…
The elder drew his weapon away from Dynamo, sliding it back into a steel scabbard attached to his waist. He threw his head back a bit, laughing loudly as Dynamo fumed angrily.
"How predictable!" He guffawed, staring directly into Dynamo's ruby-colored visor with mirth and folding his thin arms across his chest. "Feel fortunate that you're as good as I've heard, Mister Dynamo, or I would not have been so merciful."
"Yeah, I'll bet…" Dynamo backed up against the table, considering drawing his spare pistol and trying his luck again now that he had the crazy old sword-wielder in front of him, but he decided against it. There was certainly much more to the old codger than met even his eyes, and the last way Dynamo wanted to meet his end was to be carved up in a rat-hole by someone more than twice his age. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, just what did you want to talk to me about?"
The old man motioned to the booth that Dynamo had formerly been occupying.
"Have a seat, Mister Dynamo," He cordially offered, a confident smile broadening over his gaunt face. Dynamo shrugged his shoulders lightly and dropped down onto the sparse cushioning in the semi-circular booth. The old man took his seat opposite of him, resting his arms on the grimy tabletop. As the crisis had passed, the patrons of the bar emerged from their cover, continuing their activities.
"You have nothing more to fear from me; I'm merely here on some business, the type your kind would be interested in."
Dynamo casually leaned back on the seat, a bit of confidence returning to his face.
"So, you're looking for someone to do some dirty work for you, eh?" He scratched his chin, suddenly feeling a bit more relaxed. "You came to the right guy. So what's the deal, old man?"
"Saren," He replied, maintaining a very
formal posture and speaking in a deep, elegant tone. "You may call me Saren. As for the 'deal,' I need someone to assist me in a bit of 'shopping.' I've got quite an extensive grocery list, but I can hardly hope to gather what I need on my own. I need the help of someone with an animated bravado – someone who's confident enough that he can outwit any of his foes, but at the same time possessing the skills to back it up. I need someone like you, Mister Dynamo."
"First of all, enough with the 'mister' crap; do I look like a politician or a diplomat to you?" Dynamo replied with irritation. "Secondly, I'm not anybody's errand boy; I only take serious work from serious clients. Unless you've got a nice wad of cash to make it worth--"
"Fifty thousand zenni," Saren continued, not missing a beat. His words stopped Dynamo in his sentence, and he couldn't help but gaze at the old coot in sheer disbelief. Saren seemed delighted in his shock, another shark-like grin forming on his face.
"Fifty?" Dynamo squeaked out, receiving a reassuring nod from Saren. Despite it, Dynamo still couldn't fathom it. Even the bounty Sigma had given him for assisting in the Space Colony infection had only been twenty-five thousand. "That's…um…"
"Sufficient, I hope," Saren calmly said. "But since you're above doing some treasure hunting, I can always take this offer elsewhere."
"That's…!" Dynamo reached his white-gloved hand over and caught Saren by the shoulder as he prepared to stand from the booth. "That is, um…I don't MIND doing some scavenging, heh. After all, for fifty thousand zenni, I would hope that it's going to be challenging at least."
Saren looked pleased, inviting Dynamo to stand from the table.
"Excellent, I knew we could work something out," He chortled.
"But there are some conditions," Dynamo audibly cleared his throat, trying to maintain a more commanding presence. He always made it a point to keep his control during client negotiations. A bounty hunter without it lost his ability to dictate the level of service he or she would be giving to the client. Even for fifty thousand zenni, he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. "First of all, I want the money up front. No cut-offs involved, understand?"
"We can discuss the financial end of things a bit later in our partnership," Saren stepped toward the door of the pub without paying much mind to Dynamo's requests, which only served to infuriate the bounty hunter even more – who did he think he was belittling? "For now, we have places to go, people to meet. Would you accompany me outside, please?"
Dynamo kept his nerves in check, forcing his angry façade back into the recesses of his circuitry. Despite his patronizing attitude, Saren had the ability to pay him the largest bounty in his professional career, and he would've deserved a pair of spikes driven into his eyes if he screwed it up.
Instead, Dynamo briskly stepped past the on-looking patrons and hurried out the open space where the door had once been. He was greeted by a cool breeze that swept down the dilapidated street. That was about the only good feature about the crumbling ruins around him. Aside from the bar, there weren't any other usable structures scattered anywhere. The few buildings that did remain from the aftermath of the Great Collapse were dangerously close to caving in on themselves, and their interiors were pitch-black, giving Cobura the appearance of a ghost town.
He also supposed that since it was advancing into the later hours of the evening, the towering street lights would've been activated. There wasn't much luck there either – only one of the massive constructs was flickering lowly, casting an eerie blue shadow on the dark roadway. Dynamo activated a switch on the side of his visor, switching to infrared mode and turning the atmosphere in front of him a hazy green. He stared around at the wrecked street, suddenly wishing he'd kept it under the cloak of darkness. Garbage and chunks of pavement were strewn everywhere, and the remains of infomonitors that once hung from the broken street lights still crackled with a few volts of electricity on the nearby sidewalks. An acrid stench permeated the night air, the source of which was probably an unfortunate Reploid whose fluids had been spilled out in some alley nearby.
Dynamo adjusted his internal olfactory sensors as he stepped forward to where Saren was waiting. He would be more than happy to leave this sorry excuse of a city behind him, especially where he was going.
The old man was presently retracting a tiny, rectangular communicator from his ear and placing it beneath his cloak. He turned back to the approaching Dynamo.
"Our transportation is arriving in a few seconds."
"Don't tell me you tried calling for a cab in this dump," Dynamo scoffed. As he glanced carefully around the street for signs of life, a sudden rush of wind from above surprised him. Dynamo stepped back and glanced upward, spotting the landing lights of what looked to be a very classy and expensive hover-car.
"It's not a cab, but I trust it will do," Saren remarked as the cruiser lightly touched down onto the cracked pavement. Dynamo glanced approvingly at the make – it was the latest design from Talara Motor Corporation, a sleek, polished limousine-type hover-car with a glossy black paint. The chrome hubcaps, grill, and fenders were shimmering even throughout his infrared vision.
The driver – a larger Reploid with a fresh finish and curt movements – stepped from the hover-car and opened the back passenger door for Saren. He bowed courteously to his employer, and Saren returned the gesture.
"Thank you, Marett," He said, stepping halfway into the car before addressing the imposing Reploid again. "We'll be going to the office; and get there quickly, if you would."
Marett nodded astutely, returning wordlessly to the front of the hover-car and stepping inside.
"Well, Dynamo? Are you going to join us, or do you prefer to walk back to Talara from here?"
The hunter smiled with delight. Could this evening have gotten any better than this? First, it was the fifty thousand zenni for a few errand jobs, and now he got to cruise the skies in style. He'd underestimated Saren – he wasn't the crazy old codger he'd taken him for at first.
He gingerly jogged over to the open passenger door of the hover-car, hopping inside as it began to lift off from the ground. Slamming the door behind him, Dynamo ducked his head low within the spacious cabin, chuckling aloud at the surroundings. Against each wall was a plush leather couch, and secured to the wall at the front of the cabin was a small crystalline refrigerator that housed – from what Dynamo's internal sensors could tell – high quality oil-drinks. Dim lights radiated from behind the couches, giving the darkly-colored cabin a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere.
"Indulge yourself, my friend," Saren had seated himself at the rear-most seat of the cabin, and he was in the process of unhooking the clasp on his cloak. "And we'll discuss the terms of our agreement."
Dynamo opened up the tiny door of the crystal fridge, withdrawing one of the glass bottles that were stacked inside. He glanced curiously at the label, smirking as he read the emblazoned text.
"Grade AA Petrol; this would run a few thousand zenni even in the lower market places," Dynamo commented, popping open the cork seal. He took a few generous gulps of the liquid contents, feeling refreshed even before the oil flowed down his throat and into his energy processor. He licked his lips with satisfaction. "Damn; you've got some good taste, old man! I should've gotten a contract with you sooner!"
Saren returned a slight smirk as he threw his cloak onto the seat next to him. Beneath the wrap, he was wearing a neatly pressed, jet black business suit with a crisp, rich crimson tie hanging from his neck. Dynamo even noticed a pair of gold cuff-links attached to his wrists. The only feature that seemed a bit out of place was the laser saber hanging from his waist.
"Nothing personal, but the plain steel doesn't go with the Armani," Dynamo noted, dropping down onto one of the couches and supping the AA Petrol. Seeing the dangling laser saber on the old man's waist brought another curiosity back to Dynamo's attention, something he'd been interested in hearing about since the little scuffle in the bar. "Who was the guy who taught you all those moves? It must've been a grand master; lord knows you've probably got enough cash to hire one."
Saren didn't look amused at Dynamo's commentary; he was busy adjusting the cuff-links of his wrists to pay the indulgent bounty hunter any mind.
"Nobody taught me my skills with the sword," he answered as he reached to the side of his couch, searching the corner of the hover-car for something. "The show I put on inside the pub was nothing compared to what I can do with the blade in a real fight. This weapon never leaves me – it's an extension of my body, and I've eliminated many of my enemies with it."
Dynamo glanced over at the old man with a bit of suspicion. Extravagant and hospitable as he was, Saren was certainly not to be trusted completely yet as far as he was concerned. Anybody who carried a weapon around with them and boasted of numerous killings certainly wasn't any ordinary Reploid. Dynamo was certain to leave his hand on his spare blaster in case the old man thought about double-crossing him.
But instead, Saren rose up with a manilla folder clutched in his right hand. He handed the dossier to Dynamo, who placed the half-drained bottle next to him and examined the contents. He pulled out a paper-clipped collection of blown-up photographs, the first one displaying a heavily armored complex in the middle of a wintery forest. Gun emplacements surrounded the thick walls from all angles, and Dynamo was also able to pick out a few missile batteries installed on a few of the high towers of the fortress.
"A bit of a quiz for you, Dynamo," Saren said, leaning over and removing another bottle of oil-drink and a small glass from the other side of his couch. "Do you recognize the complex in the first picture?"
Dynamo nodded, studying the photograph carefully.
"I should say so, I've been in and out of there a few times," He replied. "That's the main HQ of the HYBRID organization. They've got weapons up the ass stored in that base."
"Precisely," Saren poured a healthy amount of oil-drink into the polished glass, sipping leisurely from it. "Only they don't just have guns, missiles, and explosives stored within the walls of that fortress. They've recently come into contact with something a bit more potent."
Dynamo glanced over at Saren, his interest peaking.
"Ah, something heavy-duty. Chemical or biological?"
"Something to that effect," Saren agreed. "It's something you should know much about, Dynamo. You were partially responsible for spreading it throughout Earth all those months ago."
Dynamo froze in his place, feeling the mirth formulate on Saren's face and disappearing from his. He couldn't believe his audio receptors – Saren had somehow found out about the Zero Virus and his part in spreading it.
"Oh, you thought that was a guarded secret from everybody? I'm a bit more perceptive than that, friend. You were under Sigma's employ during the Eurasia incident and you attacked Maverick Hunter Headquarters twice during the crisis. Thus I'm assuming that you were the one who assisted Sigma in the crashing of the space colony into the planet."
Dynamo felt uneasy as he swallowed hard. How had Saren known? How had he been able to find out about his employment history? He never shared his list of clients with anyone for just such security reasons.
"But you have nothing to fear," Saren chortled as he sipped his oil-drink. "I have no interest in turning you over to the Maverick Hunters even if the price offered for information on that incident was worth my time. On the contrary, when the tasks I have for you are accomplished, you will have participated in planting the seeds of their destruction."
Dynamo felt his tension melt away as Saren's words rolled out of his mouth.
"Now you and I are on the same level," Dynamo told him as he closed the folder. "I owe a few of those Maverick Hunters some broken limbs from the Eurasia incident."
"Getting back to my original point," Saren continued. "According to my surveillance contacts within the region, HYBRID has recently procured test strains of the Zero Virus from the crash site of the Eurasia Colony. They're being stored deep within the laboratories within the facility. I need those samples for my own reasons."
"Your own reasons? May I ask how my employer plans to use of the Zero Virus? You'd better not be thinking of testing it out on me, old man."
"Certainly not! I know better than to conduct mad-science experiments with such volatile materials. The strains are necessary for a smaller project I've been running at my laboratory in Talara. Once the project is completed, they will be my instruments for implementing the destruction of the Maverick Hunter organization. You must help me acquire those samples."
Dynamo scratched his chin in thought, his fascination with Saren growing with every minute.
First, he offers me a ton of money just for some treasure hunting, he offers me a killer ride and a few bottles of high-priced oil, and now he wants the Zero Virus to wipe out the Maverick Hunters…what else does this guy have in store for me?
"Breaking into the HYBRID complex? Cake," Dynamo casually shrugged. "I've been there enough times to make it down into the labs without even causing a commotion. I'll be in and out of there before they know anything's wrong."
"I'm glad to hear that," Saren nodded approvingly as he sipped more of his drink. "You're exactly what I expected you would be, Dynamo. Now, for the second task--"
"First, two quick questions, just to satisfy my curiosity," Dynamo asked as he turned his eyes away from the folder momentarily. "Number one, what kind of doomsday device do you have in store for the Maverick Hunters, and number two, what's your deal with them?"
Saren nodded again, this time in understanding.
"That's fair enough. I'll answer both with a bit of a guess-and-test, however. I've developed a new form of…technology, per se. Are you familiar with Biotech Armament, Dynamo?"
Dynamo snuffed.
"Biotech? You've got to be kidding. I thought that stuff went out of use during the first viral outbreak. It couldn't even stand up to the Sigma Virus, let alone the Zero Virus."
"Well, Biotech happens to be my specialty, given my programming and design," Saren continued. "I was once a Bionoid Warrior; you know, back during the old days where the Maverick Hunters weren't even a suitable defense organization."
"Bionoid…?" Dynamo arched an eyebrow, brushing some of his long white hair away from his visor-covered eyes. He chuckled aloud, afraid that he'd touched a nerve with his comments about the Biotech Armament. "Well, then I can understand your resentment toward the Hunters. Even I couldn't believe what they did to your kind."
Saren's face tightened into a nearly rage-filled scowl as he sipped down more of his oil-drink. Apparently, Dynamo HAD touched a nerve; he would have to watch his words around the old man, or else his head may've been the one he sheered off instead.
"Now that the second question is taken care of, I'll refer back to the first," Saren regained his composure as the fluids disappeared down his throat. "This is a bit more difficult. Moments ago, you stated that Biotech circuitry once used by the Bionoids wouldn't hold up to the Maverick-inducing viruses. This is true, until recently. Using my resources and my brilliance in the fields of genetics and biological combat, I've managed to devise a pair of exoskeletons that are well-equipped with Biotech Armament. There are only two problems: the modifications I've made to the circuitry require a host to fuse with, thereby creating a powerful symbiosis that can grant the warrior extreme levels of power. I need something as potent as the Zero Virus for that reason."
"Ah, I get it. It's just like what happened with Zero during the Eurasia incident," Dynamo guessed. "He got pumped full of the virus when the colony crashed; but it gave him an insane power boost.
"Precisely, my perceptive friend. The second problem – which also goes along with the second item I need your assistance in retrieving – is the absence of proper sentient programming within the CPUs of the exoskeletons. I've also perfected a program that can accurately replicate the memories, intelligence, and emotions of a Reploid onto a CPU, even if that Reploid has been dead for years."
Dynamo felt his throat getting dry again, so he took another swig from the Petrol bottle.
"What's the point though? I mean, with the kind of cash you're throwing around, you could easily get a few military-grade sentient cores for those guys."
"True enough," Saren refilled his glass, setting the bottle down. "But there's a reason I want certain sentient programming for my experiments – it fuels a very special effect. You see, I have a very vengeful conscience when it comes to the Maverick Hunters, and when I eventually hit them with my viral warriors, I want them to be spiked directly through their biggest hearts – the prized Hunters, X and Zero."
Dynamo smiled at the old man's ruthlessness – it was a quality he admired within himself at times. The plan contained its own strategic undertones as well – without X and Zero, the Maverick Hunters were nearly as good as nothing.
"So you want to cut those two down first, eh? But if you doing what I think you're doing, I'll be kind of disappointed. I mean, please don't tell me that you're considering cloning the two of them – that's just so unoriginal!"
That got a chuckle out of Saren.
"No; while that would still be interesting, it's still not nearly enough. I need the sentience programming from two individuals who would provoke even stronger emotions from X and Zero than two simple clones would. And throughout my research and consideration over the past years, I've finally been able to narrow the field down to two very special Reploids that hold high meaning for the two prized Hunters. But the retrieval of the sentience programming can wait until the Zero Virus vials are recovered. No sense getting ahead of ourselves, is there?"
Dynamo shook his head, the suspense getting to him. If there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was a damn cliffhanger.
"Oh, come on, old timer, you can't just leave me by a thread like that! I've got to know, who'd you have in mind for a shocking return from the grave to surprise those two do-gooders?"
Saren motioned toward the dossier casually.
"The final two sheets will tell you. I think your expertise will quickly be able to recognize them."
Dynamo hurriedly opened up the folder, tossing aside a few more shots of the HYBRID fortress and lifting up the last two crisp pictures files from the manilla carrier. Looking down at the two blueprints, he didn't know quite what to say at first; he just stared with a frozen face. Oh, he recognized the two Reploids in the photos. Both of them had played an integral role in the existences of both X and Zero, and Dynamo's admiration for Saren's pitiless and callous attitude had reached even higher peaks with the realization. He doubted that even Sigma could've dreamed up a plan like this. Considering how hot the two Maverick Hunters could become in battle, this psychological ploy was beyond perfect strategy.
"Poetic, isn't it?" Saren marveled at the bounty hunter's reaction. "I can think of no other appropriate end for those two than by their hands. Both of their models are mostly the same to keep the effect they'll have on both of them, but each will be outfitted with my new Biotech Armament and activated after you retrieve the Zero Virus and their sentience programming. Once X and Zero are crushed, the Maverick Hunter ranks will crumble, and my revenge will be complete."
Dynamo studied the dark armor and emotionless, T-visored helmet of the first figure, and he contrasted it with the pleasant smile and rainbow-colored dress of the second. She would undoubtedly be meant for Zero, and from the studies Dynamo had conducted on the First Maverick War and the Doppler Rebellion, X always had a cold spot in his heart for the first subject.
"Vile and Iris…simply brilliant." He finally said, glancing up at a grinning Saren. "Oh, it is going to be pleasure working for you, Saren, if not for the money than to see them crumble beneath old enemies. It's just so, so…brutal, a poster-child for evil everywhere."
Dynamo picked up the bottle of Petrol and held it up to Saren, who glanced smugly back at his hire.
"'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,'" He proudly told him in a Shakespearian tone. The wily old man lifted his glass one more time, tapping it against the bottle. "Cheers."
Author's Note: I DO NOT own any characters from Megaman X, only this particular plotline for which they are involved. As for this, it's a bit of an experiment that I've had ideas about for quite a while, but never got the chance to put them down. As for my other fanfictions, don't worry: they're still in my computer and being worked on. This is just a different take on things.
Prologue: A Fine Price
Date: April 20, 21XX
Six months after the events of Megaman X, Episode 6…
Dynamo spat the foul-tasting drink out of his mouth as soon as his taste buds assimilated it. The rancid fluid splattered on the coarse, rusty table; Dynamo crushed the cheap metallic cup in his hand as he coughed out the last droplets of the oil-drink, his mouth suddenly somehow bitter and salty at the same time. He cursed inwardly – Reploid refinery processes had gone down the tubes since the Great Collapse only a few years ago.
He managed to calm himself as he thought about it – there was really no one to blame but himself for the rotten taste in his mouth at the moment. Were it not for his assistance in contaminating Earth with the plague, most of the desolation and shortages that had now struck most of the planet may not have occurred.
But, business was business, like always. As long as Dynamo had a healthy stream of zenni in his accounts and as long as the bounty hunter trade was substantial on Earth, he would be content to live with fetid drinks.
Dynamo leaned back in the booth, glancing around the dimly-lit tavern at the lowly denizens. Most of them looked like they hadn't had a maintenance overhaul or even so much as a polishing in who-knew-how long. From what he knew about the remnant of the once-city of Cobura, it had turned into a makeshift pit-stop for the traveling Reploid civilians trying to pick their way through the ruined world.
Most of the plain-looking barflies didn't seem to take notice of his obvious military-grade armament as well as the sleek weapons – twin blaster pistols and his modified Laser Saber – strapped onto his body. That suited him well – with the exception of his brief visits to Maverick Hunter HQ prior to the Great Collapse, Dynamo had been unnoticed concerning his direct involvement in the spreading of the Sigma Virus and the eventual creation of the Zero Virus. No distress transmissions had been sent to the Earth-bound authorities when he attacked the station, and none escaped the colony alive. Such thoroughness had kept him out of even greater trouble with the Maverick Hunters – being implicated with Sigma in that plot probably would've made him the most wanted criminal on the face of the Earth.
But despite it all, I got away with my cash with barely a scratch on me while Sigma got royally trashed by the Daring Duo. Who says it doesn't pay to be a merc? Now all I gotta worry about is where to find some decent action around here…I haven't gotten any since before the Eurasia strike…
Dynamo shifted in the lightly-cushioned booth, his hand resting on his gun as two burly thugs tromped past him. One of them exchanged a nasty glance with him, but both continued onward without further concern. He smirked, patting the blaster reassuringly. It had helped him assassinate many targets and claim countless bounties over his career, and it nearly had allowed him to capture what would've been a prize pelt for Sigma.
I wonder what you're up to these days, X? Probably still keeping the peace as always, you little do-gooder...
He barely noticed the main entrance to the tavern open and close again as he recalled his past encounters with X and his blonde-haired partner. True, he had multiple opportunities to destroy both of them, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Both of them were incredibly skilled, morally committed…and just so frightfully dedicated to their job. It was always perversely entertaining to watch them try their hardest for the purpose of preserving peace, justice, happiness, and that silly garbage that Maverick Hunters seemed to reek of.
One day I'll settle the score with them, but only after someone puts a high enough price on their heads.
Sigma had made a generous offer on both of the Hunters, but he obviously wasn't around to pay up should Dynamo have gotten the job done. And since the Great Collapse, the bounty hunting circuit had gone slightly south as some of the regular clients preferred to concentrate on survival rather than vengeance during the bad times. The largest posted bounty out on the market at the moment was seven thousand zenni, which was abysmally low considering previous years' standards.
So until then, keep doing your good.He smirked to himself as he prepared to stand from the table. He'd wasted enough time and cash in this cheap establishment – maybe he'd find some better entertainment in the next town over.
"Mister Dynamo?" As the bounty hunter adjusted his bright red visor, he was surprised to hear an elder male voice address him from his right. Automatically laying a hand on his blaster, he cocked his head toward the voice. It was then that he spotted an older-looking Reploid wearing a finely-tailored tan cloak looking directly at him with a pair of steel blue eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. He was well-groomed, bearing a head of thinning gray hair and a finely trimmed mustache and beard. His facial muscles were chiseled, giving him the focused gaze of a diplomat or politician. Off-hand, he looked fairly harmless, but Dynamo's grip on his blaster remained firm – he knew better than to underestimate the trash festering around the area.
"What's it to you?"
"You've earned some repute around this area," The old man continued, unfazed by Dynamo's defiance. His voice was deep and regal, speaking with crisp diction. "When this city of Cobura still stood here, you were among its underworld's favorite bounty hunters. It's such a shame that the Great Collapse claimed the life of what used to be a glorious metropolis."
Dynamo's internal warning klaxons blared as he tensed his body. Not many people had known about his service to the Cryslix kingpins that once dominated Cobura, and most of the ones who did were dead by his hands. How could he have been found out by such a feeble old codger? He must've had something to do with the Maverick Hunters, or perhaps worse…
Either way…
In a quick, fluid motion, Dynamo snapped the blaster out of its holster and whirled around in the direction of the old Reploid. He extended his arm and releasing a plasma burst that should've decapitated him. To his surprise, the old man swiftly ducked his head to the right, and the blast flew across the tavern, striking the automated door on its rusty hinges and sending a resounding echo throughout the pub's dingy walls. Most of the patrons dove for cover in panic as the ancient door gave way, crashing to the ground with a resounding noise.
Dynamo was stunned – he'd never missed with that gun, ever.
"What the…?"
Before Dynamo could react, a brilliant burst of light flashed in front of his eyes, and as a shrill sound filled his audio receptors, Dynamo glanced at his outstretched arm to see the back end of the blaster pistol smoking in his hand. The front end of the weapon clattered onto the floor, the metal red hot and emitting small wisps of smoke.
Dynamo gazed over at the elder Reploid, who was brandishing a green laser saber with a curved handle in his hands. Sheer concentration was on his face, as if all of his focus had been centered in being able to sense the laser blast coming, dodging it, and retaliating in such a deft, precise manner.
But why hasn't he gutted me yet? If he could dodge that shot so quickly, I should be on the ground coughing up my fluids right now…
The elder drew his weapon away from Dynamo, sliding it back into a steel scabbard attached to his waist. He threw his head back a bit, laughing loudly as Dynamo fumed angrily.
"How predictable!" He guffawed, staring directly into Dynamo's ruby-colored visor with mirth and folding his thin arms across his chest. "Feel fortunate that you're as good as I've heard, Mister Dynamo, or I would not have been so merciful."
"Yeah, I'll bet…" Dynamo backed up against the table, considering drawing his spare pistol and trying his luck again now that he had the crazy old sword-wielder in front of him, but he decided against it. There was certainly much more to the old codger than met even his eyes, and the last way Dynamo wanted to meet his end was to be carved up in a rat-hole by someone more than twice his age. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, just what did you want to talk to me about?"
The old man motioned to the booth that Dynamo had formerly been occupying.
"Have a seat, Mister Dynamo," He cordially offered, a confident smile broadening over his gaunt face. Dynamo shrugged his shoulders lightly and dropped down onto the sparse cushioning in the semi-circular booth. The old man took his seat opposite of him, resting his arms on the grimy tabletop. As the crisis had passed, the patrons of the bar emerged from their cover, continuing their activities.
"You have nothing more to fear from me; I'm merely here on some business, the type your kind would be interested in."
Dynamo casually leaned back on the seat, a bit of confidence returning to his face.
"So, you're looking for someone to do some dirty work for you, eh?" He scratched his chin, suddenly feeling a bit more relaxed. "You came to the right guy. So what's the deal, old man?"
"Saren," He replied, maintaining a very
formal posture and speaking in a deep, elegant tone. "You may call me Saren. As for the 'deal,' I need someone to assist me in a bit of 'shopping.' I've got quite an extensive grocery list, but I can hardly hope to gather what I need on my own. I need the help of someone with an animated bravado – someone who's confident enough that he can outwit any of his foes, but at the same time possessing the skills to back it up. I need someone like you, Mister Dynamo."
"First of all, enough with the 'mister' crap; do I look like a politician or a diplomat to you?" Dynamo replied with irritation. "Secondly, I'm not anybody's errand boy; I only take serious work from serious clients. Unless you've got a nice wad of cash to make it worth--"
"Fifty thousand zenni," Saren continued, not missing a beat. His words stopped Dynamo in his sentence, and he couldn't help but gaze at the old coot in sheer disbelief. Saren seemed delighted in his shock, another shark-like grin forming on his face.
"Fifty?" Dynamo squeaked out, receiving a reassuring nod from Saren. Despite it, Dynamo still couldn't fathom it. Even the bounty Sigma had given him for assisting in the Space Colony infection had only been twenty-five thousand. "That's…um…"
"Sufficient, I hope," Saren calmly said. "But since you're above doing some treasure hunting, I can always take this offer elsewhere."
"That's…!" Dynamo reached his white-gloved hand over and caught Saren by the shoulder as he prepared to stand from the booth. "That is, um…I don't MIND doing some scavenging, heh. After all, for fifty thousand zenni, I would hope that it's going to be challenging at least."
Saren looked pleased, inviting Dynamo to stand from the table.
"Excellent, I knew we could work something out," He chortled.
"But there are some conditions," Dynamo audibly cleared his throat, trying to maintain a more commanding presence. He always made it a point to keep his control during client negotiations. A bounty hunter without it lost his ability to dictate the level of service he or she would be giving to the client. Even for fifty thousand zenni, he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. "First of all, I want the money up front. No cut-offs involved, understand?"
"We can discuss the financial end of things a bit later in our partnership," Saren stepped toward the door of the pub without paying much mind to Dynamo's requests, which only served to infuriate the bounty hunter even more – who did he think he was belittling? "For now, we have places to go, people to meet. Would you accompany me outside, please?"
Dynamo kept his nerves in check, forcing his angry façade back into the recesses of his circuitry. Despite his patronizing attitude, Saren had the ability to pay him the largest bounty in his professional career, and he would've deserved a pair of spikes driven into his eyes if he screwed it up.
Instead, Dynamo briskly stepped past the on-looking patrons and hurried out the open space where the door had once been. He was greeted by a cool breeze that swept down the dilapidated street. That was about the only good feature about the crumbling ruins around him. Aside from the bar, there weren't any other usable structures scattered anywhere. The few buildings that did remain from the aftermath of the Great Collapse were dangerously close to caving in on themselves, and their interiors were pitch-black, giving Cobura the appearance of a ghost town.
He also supposed that since it was advancing into the later hours of the evening, the towering street lights would've been activated. There wasn't much luck there either – only one of the massive constructs was flickering lowly, casting an eerie blue shadow on the dark roadway. Dynamo activated a switch on the side of his visor, switching to infrared mode and turning the atmosphere in front of him a hazy green. He stared around at the wrecked street, suddenly wishing he'd kept it under the cloak of darkness. Garbage and chunks of pavement were strewn everywhere, and the remains of infomonitors that once hung from the broken street lights still crackled with a few volts of electricity on the nearby sidewalks. An acrid stench permeated the night air, the source of which was probably an unfortunate Reploid whose fluids had been spilled out in some alley nearby.
Dynamo adjusted his internal olfactory sensors as he stepped forward to where Saren was waiting. He would be more than happy to leave this sorry excuse of a city behind him, especially where he was going.
The old man was presently retracting a tiny, rectangular communicator from his ear and placing it beneath his cloak. He turned back to the approaching Dynamo.
"Our transportation is arriving in a few seconds."
"Don't tell me you tried calling for a cab in this dump," Dynamo scoffed. As he glanced carefully around the street for signs of life, a sudden rush of wind from above surprised him. Dynamo stepped back and glanced upward, spotting the landing lights of what looked to be a very classy and expensive hover-car.
"It's not a cab, but I trust it will do," Saren remarked as the cruiser lightly touched down onto the cracked pavement. Dynamo glanced approvingly at the make – it was the latest design from Talara Motor Corporation, a sleek, polished limousine-type hover-car with a glossy black paint. The chrome hubcaps, grill, and fenders were shimmering even throughout his infrared vision.
The driver – a larger Reploid with a fresh finish and curt movements – stepped from the hover-car and opened the back passenger door for Saren. He bowed courteously to his employer, and Saren returned the gesture.
"Thank you, Marett," He said, stepping halfway into the car before addressing the imposing Reploid again. "We'll be going to the office; and get there quickly, if you would."
Marett nodded astutely, returning wordlessly to the front of the hover-car and stepping inside.
"Well, Dynamo? Are you going to join us, or do you prefer to walk back to Talara from here?"
The hunter smiled with delight. Could this evening have gotten any better than this? First, it was the fifty thousand zenni for a few errand jobs, and now he got to cruise the skies in style. He'd underestimated Saren – he wasn't the crazy old codger he'd taken him for at first.
He gingerly jogged over to the open passenger door of the hover-car, hopping inside as it began to lift off from the ground. Slamming the door behind him, Dynamo ducked his head low within the spacious cabin, chuckling aloud at the surroundings. Against each wall was a plush leather couch, and secured to the wall at the front of the cabin was a small crystalline refrigerator that housed – from what Dynamo's internal sensors could tell – high quality oil-drinks. Dim lights radiated from behind the couches, giving the darkly-colored cabin a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere.
"Indulge yourself, my friend," Saren had seated himself at the rear-most seat of the cabin, and he was in the process of unhooking the clasp on his cloak. "And we'll discuss the terms of our agreement."
Dynamo opened up the tiny door of the crystal fridge, withdrawing one of the glass bottles that were stacked inside. He glanced curiously at the label, smirking as he read the emblazoned text.
"Grade AA Petrol; this would run a few thousand zenni even in the lower market places," Dynamo commented, popping open the cork seal. He took a few generous gulps of the liquid contents, feeling refreshed even before the oil flowed down his throat and into his energy processor. He licked his lips with satisfaction. "Damn; you've got some good taste, old man! I should've gotten a contract with you sooner!"
Saren returned a slight smirk as he threw his cloak onto the seat next to him. Beneath the wrap, he was wearing a neatly pressed, jet black business suit with a crisp, rich crimson tie hanging from his neck. Dynamo even noticed a pair of gold cuff-links attached to his wrists. The only feature that seemed a bit out of place was the laser saber hanging from his waist.
"Nothing personal, but the plain steel doesn't go with the Armani," Dynamo noted, dropping down onto one of the couches and supping the AA Petrol. Seeing the dangling laser saber on the old man's waist brought another curiosity back to Dynamo's attention, something he'd been interested in hearing about since the little scuffle in the bar. "Who was the guy who taught you all those moves? It must've been a grand master; lord knows you've probably got enough cash to hire one."
Saren didn't look amused at Dynamo's commentary; he was busy adjusting the cuff-links of his wrists to pay the indulgent bounty hunter any mind.
"Nobody taught me my skills with the sword," he answered as he reached to the side of his couch, searching the corner of the hover-car for something. "The show I put on inside the pub was nothing compared to what I can do with the blade in a real fight. This weapon never leaves me – it's an extension of my body, and I've eliminated many of my enemies with it."
Dynamo glanced over at the old man with a bit of suspicion. Extravagant and hospitable as he was, Saren was certainly not to be trusted completely yet as far as he was concerned. Anybody who carried a weapon around with them and boasted of numerous killings certainly wasn't any ordinary Reploid. Dynamo was certain to leave his hand on his spare blaster in case the old man thought about double-crossing him.
But instead, Saren rose up with a manilla folder clutched in his right hand. He handed the dossier to Dynamo, who placed the half-drained bottle next to him and examined the contents. He pulled out a paper-clipped collection of blown-up photographs, the first one displaying a heavily armored complex in the middle of a wintery forest. Gun emplacements surrounded the thick walls from all angles, and Dynamo was also able to pick out a few missile batteries installed on a few of the high towers of the fortress.
"A bit of a quiz for you, Dynamo," Saren said, leaning over and removing another bottle of oil-drink and a small glass from the other side of his couch. "Do you recognize the complex in the first picture?"
Dynamo nodded, studying the photograph carefully.
"I should say so, I've been in and out of there a few times," He replied. "That's the main HQ of the HYBRID organization. They've got weapons up the ass stored in that base."
"Precisely," Saren poured a healthy amount of oil-drink into the polished glass, sipping leisurely from it. "Only they don't just have guns, missiles, and explosives stored within the walls of that fortress. They've recently come into contact with something a bit more potent."
Dynamo glanced over at Saren, his interest peaking.
"Ah, something heavy-duty. Chemical or biological?"
"Something to that effect," Saren agreed. "It's something you should know much about, Dynamo. You were partially responsible for spreading it throughout Earth all those months ago."
Dynamo froze in his place, feeling the mirth formulate on Saren's face and disappearing from his. He couldn't believe his audio receptors – Saren had somehow found out about the Zero Virus and his part in spreading it.
"Oh, you thought that was a guarded secret from everybody? I'm a bit more perceptive than that, friend. You were under Sigma's employ during the Eurasia incident and you attacked Maverick Hunter Headquarters twice during the crisis. Thus I'm assuming that you were the one who assisted Sigma in the crashing of the space colony into the planet."
Dynamo felt uneasy as he swallowed hard. How had Saren known? How had he been able to find out about his employment history? He never shared his list of clients with anyone for just such security reasons.
"But you have nothing to fear," Saren chortled as he sipped his oil-drink. "I have no interest in turning you over to the Maverick Hunters even if the price offered for information on that incident was worth my time. On the contrary, when the tasks I have for you are accomplished, you will have participated in planting the seeds of their destruction."
Dynamo felt his tension melt away as Saren's words rolled out of his mouth.
"Now you and I are on the same level," Dynamo told him as he closed the folder. "I owe a few of those Maverick Hunters some broken limbs from the Eurasia incident."
"Getting back to my original point," Saren continued. "According to my surveillance contacts within the region, HYBRID has recently procured test strains of the Zero Virus from the crash site of the Eurasia Colony. They're being stored deep within the laboratories within the facility. I need those samples for my own reasons."
"Your own reasons? May I ask how my employer plans to use of the Zero Virus? You'd better not be thinking of testing it out on me, old man."
"Certainly not! I know better than to conduct mad-science experiments with such volatile materials. The strains are necessary for a smaller project I've been running at my laboratory in Talara. Once the project is completed, they will be my instruments for implementing the destruction of the Maverick Hunter organization. You must help me acquire those samples."
Dynamo scratched his chin in thought, his fascination with Saren growing with every minute.
First, he offers me a ton of money just for some treasure hunting, he offers me a killer ride and a few bottles of high-priced oil, and now he wants the Zero Virus to wipe out the Maverick Hunters…what else does this guy have in store for me?
"Breaking into the HYBRID complex? Cake," Dynamo casually shrugged. "I've been there enough times to make it down into the labs without even causing a commotion. I'll be in and out of there before they know anything's wrong."
"I'm glad to hear that," Saren nodded approvingly as he sipped more of his drink. "You're exactly what I expected you would be, Dynamo. Now, for the second task--"
"First, two quick questions, just to satisfy my curiosity," Dynamo asked as he turned his eyes away from the folder momentarily. "Number one, what kind of doomsday device do you have in store for the Maverick Hunters, and number two, what's your deal with them?"
Saren nodded again, this time in understanding.
"That's fair enough. I'll answer both with a bit of a guess-and-test, however. I've developed a new form of…technology, per se. Are you familiar with Biotech Armament, Dynamo?"
Dynamo snuffed.
"Biotech? You've got to be kidding. I thought that stuff went out of use during the first viral outbreak. It couldn't even stand up to the Sigma Virus, let alone the Zero Virus."
"Well, Biotech happens to be my specialty, given my programming and design," Saren continued. "I was once a Bionoid Warrior; you know, back during the old days where the Maverick Hunters weren't even a suitable defense organization."
"Bionoid…?" Dynamo arched an eyebrow, brushing some of his long white hair away from his visor-covered eyes. He chuckled aloud, afraid that he'd touched a nerve with his comments about the Biotech Armament. "Well, then I can understand your resentment toward the Hunters. Even I couldn't believe what they did to your kind."
Saren's face tightened into a nearly rage-filled scowl as he sipped down more of his oil-drink. Apparently, Dynamo HAD touched a nerve; he would have to watch his words around the old man, or else his head may've been the one he sheered off instead.
"Now that the second question is taken care of, I'll refer back to the first," Saren regained his composure as the fluids disappeared down his throat. "This is a bit more difficult. Moments ago, you stated that Biotech circuitry once used by the Bionoids wouldn't hold up to the Maverick-inducing viruses. This is true, until recently. Using my resources and my brilliance in the fields of genetics and biological combat, I've managed to devise a pair of exoskeletons that are well-equipped with Biotech Armament. There are only two problems: the modifications I've made to the circuitry require a host to fuse with, thereby creating a powerful symbiosis that can grant the warrior extreme levels of power. I need something as potent as the Zero Virus for that reason."
"Ah, I get it. It's just like what happened with Zero during the Eurasia incident," Dynamo guessed. "He got pumped full of the virus when the colony crashed; but it gave him an insane power boost.
"Precisely, my perceptive friend. The second problem – which also goes along with the second item I need your assistance in retrieving – is the absence of proper sentient programming within the CPUs of the exoskeletons. I've also perfected a program that can accurately replicate the memories, intelligence, and emotions of a Reploid onto a CPU, even if that Reploid has been dead for years."
Dynamo felt his throat getting dry again, so he took another swig from the Petrol bottle.
"What's the point though? I mean, with the kind of cash you're throwing around, you could easily get a few military-grade sentient cores for those guys."
"True enough," Saren refilled his glass, setting the bottle down. "But there's a reason I want certain sentient programming for my experiments – it fuels a very special effect. You see, I have a very vengeful conscience when it comes to the Maverick Hunters, and when I eventually hit them with my viral warriors, I want them to be spiked directly through their biggest hearts – the prized Hunters, X and Zero."
Dynamo smiled at the old man's ruthlessness – it was a quality he admired within himself at times. The plan contained its own strategic undertones as well – without X and Zero, the Maverick Hunters were nearly as good as nothing.
"So you want to cut those two down first, eh? But if you doing what I think you're doing, I'll be kind of disappointed. I mean, please don't tell me that you're considering cloning the two of them – that's just so unoriginal!"
That got a chuckle out of Saren.
"No; while that would still be interesting, it's still not nearly enough. I need the sentience programming from two individuals who would provoke even stronger emotions from X and Zero than two simple clones would. And throughout my research and consideration over the past years, I've finally been able to narrow the field down to two very special Reploids that hold high meaning for the two prized Hunters. But the retrieval of the sentience programming can wait until the Zero Virus vials are recovered. No sense getting ahead of ourselves, is there?"
Dynamo shook his head, the suspense getting to him. If there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was a damn cliffhanger.
"Oh, come on, old timer, you can't just leave me by a thread like that! I've got to know, who'd you have in mind for a shocking return from the grave to surprise those two do-gooders?"
Saren motioned toward the dossier casually.
"The final two sheets will tell you. I think your expertise will quickly be able to recognize them."
Dynamo hurriedly opened up the folder, tossing aside a few more shots of the HYBRID fortress and lifting up the last two crisp pictures files from the manilla carrier. Looking down at the two blueprints, he didn't know quite what to say at first; he just stared with a frozen face. Oh, he recognized the two Reploids in the photos. Both of them had played an integral role in the existences of both X and Zero, and Dynamo's admiration for Saren's pitiless and callous attitude had reached even higher peaks with the realization. He doubted that even Sigma could've dreamed up a plan like this. Considering how hot the two Maverick Hunters could become in battle, this psychological ploy was beyond perfect strategy.
"Poetic, isn't it?" Saren marveled at the bounty hunter's reaction. "I can think of no other appropriate end for those two than by their hands. Both of their models are mostly the same to keep the effect they'll have on both of them, but each will be outfitted with my new Biotech Armament and activated after you retrieve the Zero Virus and their sentience programming. Once X and Zero are crushed, the Maverick Hunter ranks will crumble, and my revenge will be complete."
Dynamo studied the dark armor and emotionless, T-visored helmet of the first figure, and he contrasted it with the pleasant smile and rainbow-colored dress of the second. She would undoubtedly be meant for Zero, and from the studies Dynamo had conducted on the First Maverick War and the Doppler Rebellion, X always had a cold spot in his heart for the first subject.
"Vile and Iris…simply brilliant." He finally said, glancing up at a grinning Saren. "Oh, it is going to be pleasure working for you, Saren, if not for the money than to see them crumble beneath old enemies. It's just so, so…brutal, a poster-child for evil everywhere."
Dynamo picked up the bottle of Petrol and held it up to Saren, who glanced smugly back at his hire.
"'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,'" He proudly told him in a Shakespearian tone. The wily old man lifted his glass one more time, tapping it against the bottle. "Cheers."