File 2: Exciting Car Chase Scene!

"Here, try this one."

Tiger Lily took the armor polish from Silphia. "Sparkling Waterfall Mist? Sorry, I don't use glitter polish."

"Does it glitter?"

Silphia nodded and pointed to her arm. "See, ain't it pretty?"

The three of them were in the Squad 16 common den, discussing cosmetics and cute men in the Maverick Hunters. Silphia did not look like much of a Hunter. She looked more like a supermodel. She had short powder blue hair, long white rabbit ears, iridescent pink armor, a cottony rabbit tail, and the measurements of the idealized woman. When off duty, she would accessorize with very girly add-ons, like faux pink fur outlining her armor's shapes, gaudy necklaces, and little rabbits' feet decorations. But when on duty, she armed herself with a massive morning star and had been known to frighten the daylights out of reploids twice her size.

On the other hand, Tiger Lily looked like a Maverick Hunter, and a much more realistic female. Except maybe for the triple braids of orange sherbet hair. Her armor was yellow and orange, being feminine while at the same time obviously battle armor. Typically, she used an energy bow in battle, but rumor had it she could turn just about anything into a weapon.

The third member of their group was actually a guy. Duraunger had hair that reminded everyone of a porcupine with long spines. His armor was a riot of color, which he could change at a thought. He traded accessories and cosmetics with Silphia often, although his tastes were more to gold chains and cute hearts. His preferred weapons were rifles and grenades.

Tiger Lily tilted her head, to see Silphia's armor glitter. "I suppose."

Duraunger altered his armor color to light blue, to match the glitter polish, and tried a bit. "It goes on very nicely. How long does the glitter stay?"

"Well, provided you don't get it blasted off in battle, about three days."

"Three? That's pretty good. Come on Tiger Lily, put a bit on."

"It wouldn't match my color scheme," she insisted.

Silphia giggled and clapped her hands together. "Then we'll have to find one that does. I think they make an Amber Sparkles that would match you well. Or maybe Golden Glory would do better."

"Glitter polish?"

"It could suit you," Duraunger insisted. "If you used regular polish as a first coat, then accented here and there with the glitter polish, it could look quite pretty. Guys like that sort of thing."

"Of course. You must Tiger Lily."

She shook her head. Then to deflect the subject, she asked, "So what's the deal with your guy Duraunger? I heard you broke up with Magma Centipede."

He sighed. "Yes, I did. He's a very sweet guy and all, quite an interesting looker. But he kept asking me to give him a foot rub. Do you know how long that takes on a Centipede?"

"Oh my," Silphia said. "That's so unfair. And tedious, isn't it?"

"You'd better believe it. And he won't change his horrible collection of boots. I swear he doesn't had a single matching pair."

"I told you so," Tiger Lily said. "A man with a bad suit of armor, even just the boots, isn't worth the trouble. If he can't care about his own appearance…"

"Leo's headed this way," a fourth voice said.

The three of them stepped back instantly. A second later, a violet blur turned into the doorway. "Brake!" Leo called.

Instead, he tripped over the couch and flew into a large beanbag placed on the opposite wall.

"All right!" Silphia called out. "We've got the target right on."

"That's not funny," Leo said.

Redwing yawned and stretched his wings out. He looked up to look down at Leo, for he was on the ceiling. "Mm, did you hurt yourself this time?"

"No. That's an improvement." Leo tumbled out of the beanbag chair. Everyone knew him as the fastest reploid in existence. And everyone knew he had the worst braking system in the world. No one quite knew why. No matter what the mechanics of the healing wing did to Leo, he had yet to figure out how to stop himself without crashing into something or someone. "The others are coming in a moment," he reported. "Impromptu meeting."

Redwing dropped from the ceiling and elegantly landed upright. He had dark red hair and bright red wings, which looked like moths had tried to eat them away. Yet he could still fly well. To complete the dark gothic look, he had black armor with silver-white accent lines and an emblem of an ankh on his left shoulder. As if that wasn't enough, he wielded an energy scythe with a black blade.

Then the final two members of Squad 16 came into the common den. Blues, the leader for the past several years, and Cloud Jumper, a recon reploid. Cloud Jumper was not even two feet high, but he had a four-foot wingspan. He had pale green armor and dark green hair. His wings were ultra-light ultra-strong plastic, mostly white with threadlike green markings. He was a much better flyer than Redwing, but his ultra-light frame caused him to experience kickback on even the smallest guns. Therefore, his main weapon was a shock stick.

"We're having a squad meeting now," Blues said. "I believe we have some issues to discuss. Any in particular you wish to start with?"

Redwing smirked. "The rest of you ought to know that Duraunger is single again."

"Oh brother," CJ said.

"Dang it," Leo added.

"Hey, come on," Duraunger said. 'Okay, I promise not to bug you guys too much again, all right?"

"That should do," Blues replied with a smile. "Now, anything serious to address?"


There was a large operation going on at the Maverick Hunter base. Reploids from several squads were involved (0, 6, 13, and 17) all for the purpose of bringing down a single Maverick.

"Only one?" Morph Moth asked incredulously. "You got together eleven Hunters to get at a single maverick?"

Serges tried to keep serious and calm, but he was very worried about today's operation. "If we could capture this single maverick with one or two Hunters, we'd already have him. He's been on the wanted list for ten years now, mostly because he is elusive and intelligent. Now that we are certain of his location for a few days, we've decided on using overwhelming force to get him secured. This is necessary."

"You've got quite an overwhelming crew here," Magna Centipede commented. "Covering all your bases?"

Serges nodded. "Pretty much. You and I will hold back and organize strategy. I'm splitting the rest of you into three. Violin, you will lead unit A with Morph Moth, and Wheel Gator. Agile, you will lead unit B with Overdrive Ostrich and Flame Stag. Crystal Snail, you will lead unit C with Wire Sponge and Bubble Crab. We should keep conditions in our favor and not let this maverick have a chance." He checked his mIC list. "The preference is to capture this one alive for trial. His knack for keeping out of the law's reach has made him a sort of Maverick hero. Thus, trying him publicly should enforce our dedication to stopping those who are deviant. But, should he start killing, lethal force will be excused. Take every precaution necessary. Rockman X is a dangerous opponent and should not be underestimated."


It was spring, a number of years down the road from the century's start. X was walking down the street, whistling and keeping to himself. He was really in a bit of trouble and not just with the law. His former landlord had gotten tired of his antics three months ago and kicked him out. Close to broke, he had nowhere to stay and nothing to do. He'd just sold his meta-bike to a dealer for some cash, hopefully enough to get in somewhere until he could get a job. Or something resembling a job that made him money. He disliked work.

Across the street, he caught sight of a reploid that he was certain he saw a few blocks back. That one was reading a newspaper. This one was reading a newspaper, the same one by the looks of it. He glanced around and spotted three reploids walking behind him, talking to each other. One glanced at him, and seeing him glancing, looked back to his friends. X glanced around and spotted a few more suspicious people. It was safe to assume he was being followed.

With that information, he decided and made a goal of a local park. It was wooded with a winding path, the best place for a confrontation within a few minutes walk. He crossed the street and went there. While he examined the area for the perfect spot, he considered what he knew and what would be a good course of action. These were moments he lived for, a few steps ahead in trouble and excitement. When he knew his spot and knew his course, he smiled victoriously to himself.

He sat on a bench and kept himself busy with a game of Minesweeper. It started raining for no apparent reason.

Unit A, the ones who had been directly trailing him, came up from his right, where he'd come into the park. Unit B darted around and came in from his left. Unit C hung back to secure a perimeter in case of battle. X let them surround him, pretending to be absorbed in his game. Their movements were quick and fluid, all members knowing where to be. He knew who they were.

"Keep your hands out," Violin said. "You're under arrest."

"Without a ***** introduction? How rude of you."

"We know you are Rockman X. We are the Maverick Hunters. Cooperate and we might not delete you completely."

"You sent a whole fricking squad after me? I'm flattered. You must tell me what the hell I'm being arrested for. I can't think of anything."

Violin felt cheated that X wasn't putting up a fight. "Stand up and put your hands behind your back, maverick. And stop being so cheeky. Use the scanner on him while you lock him down."

He did the first two, but nothing in the world would stop him from being cheeky when he felt like it. "Yeah, you better scan me damn good. So little mister *** *** *****, what **** am I being arrested for again?"

Violin slapped him for the descriptive insult; the maverick was restrained with magnet cuffs and could not do anything. He then activated his mIC. "Rockman X, you are under arrest for speeding, hacking, illegal parts cannibalizing, building-owning-operating-concealing advanced and controlled weaponry, distributing addictive viral programming,"

"I never ***** did that."

"Shut up. Fraud, organizing con schemes, petty thievery, fencing, handling controlled substances (namely Vexxon and ten per Vextril) without a license, selling said substances without license, aggravated assault and battery, encouraging acts of terrorism, drunken disorderly,"

"What's the date on that one?"

"Keep quiet. You have that right."

"But I already did time for drunken disorderly. Ask the local police station. They always greet me with 'you again?'"

Violin went on. "Operating a business without license, repairing and upgrading reploids without license, using black magic, and sexual misconduct with humans."

"Did you read that right?" Agile tapped his arm. "Sexual misconduct?"

Violin looked at the charge list again. X grinned. "Yes, that's on here. Maybe that's a mistake."

He shook his head. "Nope. I'll admit to that one without blushing."

"But reploids aren't equipped for that…" Wheel Gator said in bewilderment.

"Pervert," Flame Stag said.

Violin checked the list, still not certain.

X slipped out of the magnet handcuffs. He had a million tricks. "Look, I don't have time to be playing with you boys anymore. It's been fun, really."

Then he dashed out of the crowd, right past the leader.

"You let him get away?" Centipede said over the com.

"Unit B, after him immediately!" Serges called out. "Units A and C, get your transports and join in. And somebody make sure Wire Sponge hurries up."

"Oh sure," Sponge said, "you try to run when you're a wad of wires…"

Moth grabbed Sponge. "Shut up."

Zipping around without difficulty, X came out of the trees close to a stoplight. He spotted a car waiting at the light. He dashed over and readied his buster. Pointing it at the human female driver, he smiled. "Hey beautiful. May I borrow your car?"

She paled at the sight of his gun. "S-sure…"

He let her get out and noticed some envelopes on the passenger seat. He picked one up. "This your address, right?"

She nodded.

"Right-o. Later chicky."

Ignoring the red light, he sped out, just in time to avoid unit B catching up to him. Grinning madly to himself, he led them on a merry chase through Detroit. He was an excellent driver; it was just that he ignored road laws when they became inconvenient for him.

Agile and Ostrich were able to keep up to the speeding car with no difficulty. But Stag fell behind and had to grab a ride with Snail. "He's hijacked a car," he reported into the com. "The other two are keeping pace."

"We're putting through warnings to traffic controllers," Centipede stated.

Eventually, X stopped in front of a construction site he knew would be empty this time of the day. He looked about… there! Perfect. He dashed over a large metal plate on the ground.

This plate was a giant electromagnet. This place was to be a science lab at some point. And most reploids were given heavy duty magnetic shielding around their central cores, to prevent them from being completely wiped in the presence of electromagnetic fields strong enough to hold them down.

"He's stopped in this area," Serges reported. "Take him down now."

The Hunters rushed in. The area was full of obstructing machinery and materials. But there were nine of them to one of him.

X fired up the electromagnet with impeccable timing. All of the Hunters stuck.

"You bastard!" Gator called out.

"Damn straight," he taunted them. "Now this is more fun. You're at my mercy now. So, let's have some fun, shall we?"

They began to look worried. X took a weapon out of one of his armor pockets. "I'll be quick." He shot them all with his shock gun. It wasn't meant to kill. Rather, it paralyzed reploids for several hours. Then he turned off the magnet.

This would be fun.


Violin came to full awareness five hours later. He found himself in the repair wing at Maverick Hunter Base. One of the nurses came by. "How are you feeling?"

"Surprised to be alive," he admitted. "But otherwise, just a bit disoriented. Where's the rest of the Hunters?"

"They're all alive. But," she giggled. "Sorry. You won't like what he did to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look over there." She pointed to a mirror.

He found himself not in his normal armor, but in the armor of a scandalous female reploid.

His reaction can't be printed here.


In a suburb of Detroit, a man was comforting his distraught wife as she tried to tell the police about the carjacking. "Some reploid," she said. "I can't think of what he looked like."

"What kind of car do you have?"

"Like that… that is our car," the husband said.

The car parked in the driveway. X came out of the driver's seat and handed the woman a dog kennel. "Found your chore list. The groceries are in back; hope I got the right stuff. And I picked up a little something extra for the trouble. Thanks again."

"Hey, wait up a moment. You're under arrest for carjacking."

He waved his hands. "Sorry, I've already been arrested today. And trust me, you don't want trouble. Later."

He ran off, and since reploids are naturally faster than humans, they didn't even try. A few blocks down, he caught a bus, faked paying, and sat down to consider what now. He had no money, no place to crash, and no trustworthy friends to crash with. He didn't want to sleep outside again. At first, he considered dropping by the homeless shelter to be a wound of pride, but now it seemed reasonable.

A few stops later, an acquaintance got on. "Hey X."

He nodded. "Hey Bloodhound. What're you up to?"

"The Blast Mechanics are gonna party tonight at Jumble's," he said, referring to a meta-bike gang he led. X stayed on the sidelines. The bike gangs were rowdy, being sometimes fun to hang with, but more dangerous than X wanted to deal with every day. "You ought to come. We haven't seen you in ages."

"Why not? Sounds fun."


It was a wild night and X was in the thick of it. As always. This was another sort of excitement he lived for. He wasn't the only reploid with the gang that night, but he was the wildest. He talked a number of people into buying him alcohol all night and did some things that got him slightly ahead of where he'd been a few hours ago. He was that sort of person.

Early in the morning, X was near asleep in the Blasted Machine Shop, the gang's main hangout and cover business. This was the place of a dedicated mechanic; an add-on to the main building was home to the shop's owner. It was here that he was sleeping, and it was here that he heard his name being called.

He woke up reluctantly with a bit of a headache. Better than usual. He opened his eyes and saw the back of an ugly brown sofa. But it was comfy. He closed his eyes again.

"Get up already," a voice behind him said.

He sat up and uttered a few curses. "What do you want this time of morning?" Then he looked over and realized who it was. "Dr. Light?"

He looked annoyed, but X was used to that. He wasn't used to his creator's ghost suddenly showing up though. It was Thomas Light, exactly as X remembered him, only see through. "X," he said, in a tone that emphasized his annoyance.

"Ssh. You'll wake her up," referring to a girl he could see sleeping soundly on a bed nearby.

"Why is that girl here anyways?"

He smirked. "Do you really have to ask that question?"

"I know you're not equipped for that."

"Don't let that out. I have a reputation to uphold."

"I don't like you doing this."

"Just forget about her and tell me what you're really here for. Either that or leave me alone. I'll be in a bad mood until I get rid of this hellringer headache."

Dr. Light crossed his arms and shook his head. "This is exactly what I'm here for. What have you been doing these past thirty years?"

He shrugged. "Having fun, partying, biking, fighting, doing whatever I want. Like you said."

"I didn't mean for you to take that literally."

"Then why'd you say it? Why tell me I can do whatever I like and then say you don't like it?"

"X, you're an intelligent reploid. Think for a moment about what you're really doing. You're wasting your life on temporary pleasures. Illegal or perverse pleasures at that. You're ruining yourself. Someday you will pay for all this."

"I am a reploid. I'm not human; I don't have the same frailty that you do. I can fix anything that goes wrong with my body. There's nothing that I'm doing that I can't fix. I know what I'm doing and I'm in control."

"You're jobless, homeless…. You have no friends. You are not in control. You've become addicted to this lifestyle and it will ruin you."

"You can't control what I do. That's what you wanted."

"I didn't want to see you destroy yourself. I still don't."

"Why are you trying to control me? Go back to the spirit realm where you're supposed to be right now. You're not going to change me. You can't."

"Don't you even care?"

X glared at him. "Why do you care now? I thought you disowned me."

Dr. Light brushed that off. "I came to give you this too. It should help."

"I don't like your tone of voice."

"You're in no position to say that." He snapped his fingers.

X found his helmet on without his command. But it wasn't his normal helmet. It was heavier, and covered more of his head. It also felt like a bucket of bricks. "Warn me before you do that again."

Dr. Light said something, but the helmet blocked it out.

"What'd you say? I can't hear a dang thing with this on."

He snapped his fingers again and the helmet came off, winding up in X's hands. "It's stronger than your old one."

"It's a piece of ****," he said. "It makes me deaf. I could do a helmet way better than this."

"Sorry," he said without sounding much like it. "It's a little hard to make things while dead you know."

"Then why are you even trying? I'll never wear this thing."

"At least I'm trying to do something. Unlike you."

"I'm doing plenty of things, probably things you've never done yourself." A tense silence followed. X kept glaring. "Go away. I didn't need to see you again."

"X, child…" he finally sounded concerned. "I can't do nothing when I see you like this. You're meant for better things."

"Then stop watching me. I don't need you. Go watch Blues or something. I'm sure he's being a good boy. And Rock's around somewhere. Just leave me alone."

And to ensure that this conversation was over, he lay back down and put the pillow over his head.

Light's ghost put his hand to his forehead. "I knew I should have tested him first."


Yeah, X and Dr. Light don't get along here. And don't ask me where I came up with the name Duraunger. It was just there and stuck to that OC.