Here We Belong
A Mega Man X Fanfiction by RoyFokker99th
Prologue: Faint Rumbling
She began as mere fragments, parts, individually sculpted to the desires of another. Individually, these parts came together, slowly, but precisely. She then had a face, a body, and connected to that body were arms and legs. Blue light emanated from between joints not yet sealed. Mechanical arms, guided by hand and assisted by advanced mathematical equations molded the heated titaniceramic hybrid alloy into the skeletal curves of a woman. Minutes passed, and she was whole, floating amidst a sea of others like herself, hairless, lifeless, waiting for life. Synth muscle and skin were wrapped around her structure, attached to artificial nerve endings, expanding and contracting as test currents ran through them. She was whole.
A single mechanical apparatus lowered itself into the solution, taking her sisters away, until she, the fourth, was taken. Her pale skin was slick with the translucent fluid that coursed down her body. She was a canvas, waiting for her artist.
More arms drew light along her skin, searing away excess along every part of her. Her featureless head covered, and light flashed into eyes not yet opened, detailing, molding, perfecting imperfections.
She lay on her back now, eyes now open, seeing nothing, ears now hearing, but only hearing a singular loud hum of a concert of machinery. Poked and prodded in place, body lifted and shifted aside as more was added to her, optimization and enhancement. She made fists again and again. Feet and toes curled and relaxed. Her veil was removed, and finally she could see. Eyes whirred and clicked, testing their range. She looked down at herself, and saw black fabric covering her form, seeing the head of another just like her, reclined back as she was, long hair pouring from her head, then shortening suddenly, becoming a myriad of colors, testing itself. She felt her head buzz, felt her own hair hang loosely beneath her bed, then be pulled back up inside herself. Just under her breasts, a dull glow could be seen, pulsing at a regular beat.
Her arms opened wide, then crossed. Her legs followed suit. Finally, she fell limp, as mechanical arms fell upon her, pulling her off her bed and placing her on her feet. Somewhere within her waist, another hum, pneumatics hissing quietly as her body asserted its balance.
"Good morning." She said alongside of her sisters. Words almost too fast for her to comprehend blitzed across her vision, version numbers, equipment identification, software names, dates, places. A world opened within her mind. She knew her place, her role, and her choices available to her.
Time passed, afterwards a single blinking line remained.
Confirm? Y/N
"Good morning. I am Hilde. Model Number Four of Seven. I confirm."
Releasing from restraints One through Fifty. All mobility functions cleared. Official Activation Date October 3 2123. You are now alive. Good morning, Hilde.
Hilde awoke with a start. The sun was leaking through the blinds of the apartment she'd slept in, and her eyes clicked and whirred into focus, automatically applying filters to avoid overloading on the brightness. Reflexively, she checked her body, checking to see that her arms and legs were all still properly attached. Every time she had that dream, she always did so. It was said that reploids never forgot anything, that everything was stored in their core memory until the day they died, and even then, solid-state memory could be uploaded to external devices. The important part of her memories, her personal experiences, all boiled down to electronic data and nothing more, but she knew that even if her data was uploaded to an identical body, that person would not be her.
The security of that knowledge comforted her, but it did nothing to change how unsettling it was to remember how she was assembled.
Next to her, wrapped with blankets was the most important thing in her life: one Ricardo Sato, as human as she was reploid. A relationship that should not have worked under any circumstances, given what she knew about humans and given the history of their reploid creations. It boggled her mind that he even allowed her to sleep in the same room as him, let alone the same bed, to do nothing else but sleep or hold each other until he finally fell unconscious. He imposed restrictions on himself, denied himself the needs and wants in a relationship that any other human would satisfy by finding another of their kind. It was that willingness to change to fit her advantages and restrictions that made him as special to her as he was.
She stood from the bed as quietly as she could manage, which was pretty damn quiet. Humans would sooner hear a feather touching carpet before they'd hear the various motors within her joints working in concert with each other. If not for the distinct smells a reploid carried with their various operations fluids, she could easily approach a K-9 without being detected. Walking gracefully on her toes, she went immediately to a box with her name written on it, a card not yet in its envelope atop the half closed lid. Inside the box lay a shirt she'd seen when they had gone out together a couple weeks after the Rebellion. You bastard, you didn't need to do this. She pulled it on easily. He'd even gotten her size right.
He had remembered. Hilde shook her head, smiling as she flipped open the card.
Hey you. Happy Birthday. So I'm really terrible with profound and tear inducing statements on these things, so I bought you something you wanted the other day. BTW, this is totally not last minute, like, I didn't wake up after you shut down for the night, run out to the store, and threw this together until I got lazy and or worried you'd wake up while I was trying to wrap. Which I am not bad at, by the way. Gift wrapping, I'm a pro. Happy Birthday. I'm going to bed. You can yell at me when I wake up. Love, Ricardo.
She ran a hand along his face gently, so as not to wake him. He didn't even stir. Ricardo looked innocent like that.
Being members of MSWAT LA, their fraternization was considered somewhat dangerous, as he was easily more fragile than she was, but participated in the same kind of work as she. She was the point woman of their team, and he the rearguard/sniper. They shared a sort of symbiotic relationship in the field, one that she personally found more exciting than any other interpersonal relationship she'd had in her short life. They knew what the other was thinking or planning to do by a mere glance. In that sense, she synchronized with him better than she did with any reploid teammate.
"You're in that cute lil tank-top deal I bought you." He murmured, waking up with a smile, blinking away sleep. "You opened your present without me. Impatient aren't you?"
"Thank you." She whispered, leaning over to kiss him.
"Happy birthday. Shall I get ready for work?" His yawn was stifled as their lips met.
"In a moment." Hilde answered.
They were among the first to arrive at the new MSWAT building that morning. Now properly integrated with local Maverick Hunter Command, and essentially being the lead element for the new command structure, MSWAT didn't train nearly as obsessively as they had prior to September 10th, 2133. The specialists had many more administrative duties to perform than they did in the past. They were essentially the only official Maverick Hunters in Los Angeles that had any actual combat experience. The New Breed was still being formed out of the gestation of their own training under MSWAT professionals.
September 10th had nearly cost Ricardo his life. Hilde would never forget the memories of him falling to his supposed death, nor did she want to forget. She'd turned her fear and angst from the situation into a mental whetstone. If nothing else, the intensity of own personal training had doubled. When she wasn't training newer Hunters to think and fight like MSWAT, she trained at least twice a week with the old crew of MSWAT, and any spare time she had while on the clock was spend in simulations.
Hilde had been offered to go to New Tokyo by X and Zero to become a Maverick Hunter under their command. An offer of a potentially very short lifetime, given her line of work and the new work she'd take on under their wing. She would have accepted, had something not remained here in Los Angeles, someone, and she'd refuse again without hesitation if they asked. Her place was here, but the invite itself, and the circumstances that surrounded it meant a lot to her, even if she shrugged off the praise that came with it. Real life heroes didn't invite you into their company on a daily basis.
Short lived as it had been, Apollo's Rebellion had effects that continued on after the immediate death and destruction it had wrought. The rogue reploid General had taken his battalion of United States built reploids, all of which designed for Special Forces duties, and held Los Angeles hostage, but not before having disabling two US military installations. They targeted an arcology that happened to also house the Southwestern US Aerospace Command, and also took hostages within the Hollywood district of the megacity. Only after the GDC military response proved to be unacceptable to the US government had they summoned the help of Maverick Hunters from New York and New Tokyo to augment whatever local law enforcement had to fight back with, MSWAT. It had been the longest day for Hilde and her comrades, beyond anything they had ever prepared for, but somehow, they only sustained relatively light casualties for their involvement in an all out war.
The Global Defense Council came out of the whole debacle with more than just egg on their collective face. The AmeriCanadian Alliance was pulling over seventy percent of their overseas deployed military strength from regions in the world that weren't yet considered stable. The questions that Apollo had raised in regards to the blatant attempt at genocide of the Reploid race in 2124 remained unanswered. Somehow, despite being a Maverick, his speech shortly before his forces suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of the Maverick Hunters had captured the minds of observers the world over. The conduct of his forces was scrutinized. Their release of hostages, their efforts to avoid civilian casualties, the targeting of military and law enforcement personnel almost exclusively, none of it had fit the pattern of prior Maverick Uprisings that had raged across the planet. It flew in the face of Sigma's Crest that every member of Apollo's battalion had worn supposedly with pride.
The Ice Beacon issue remained a mystery, and it looked as though it would stay that way for the time being. It didn't stop the media or the simply curious from conjuring up explanations of their own.
Conspiracy theories assuming that media manipulation had gone into effect sometime over the last two months of time were rampant, but the effect on the public was undeniably profound. Hilde would not have believed it had she not seen it herself, but shirts with the solemn expression of General Apollo and his eleven lieutenants done in black on a red background could be seen on some youths throughout the city, throughout the world. A reploid Che Guevara and his men, my God, she had thought when she had first confronted such a shirt. Kids with plastic replications of the signature orange beam sabers ran through playgrounds. A live action television show with twelve heroic reploid characters named after Norse gods, looking similar to Apollo and his commanders, fought for human and reploid justice would start in the Fall. It was a scary phenomenon.
Much like the human revolutionary, the truth surrounding Apollo's Rebellion would be difficult, if not impossible to come by. The exploits of his Maverick battalion before September 10th were easily found online. Of note was their participation in several African brew-ups before and after 2124. They'd done their time as peacekeepers for the human world as it found new reasons to tear itself apart daily. Perhaps that was why they rebelled. Reason after reason could be piled on. Analysis could continue for all eternity on any point of information that came to light, but to get the truth, one would need a time machine, and be able to talk to the man himself. He, like most of his command, was dead, scrapped, or repurposed. Reploids would never serve autonomously within a military again for decades to come, and perhaps that would be for the best. The return of human oversight in US reploid military affairs had gone well enough thus far, but it was a step back nonetheless, at the worst time possible, it seemed.
With the AmeriCanadian Alliance seemingly striking out on its own, the GDC was left missing some of the bite it could threaten to resort to in the geopolitical arena, something they were already demonstrably weak in. Reploid rights issues were only the start of their problems. The majority of the world was quickly outgrowing the need to rely on such an entity, but it could not simply vanish overnight. The parts of the world that had yet to truly, fully recover from the ravages of nearly a century of sustained human belligerence still needed a strong external presence to maintain order that could not be provided from within, and that was crumbling away.
What did he really want to accomplish? You can't just get rid of them. The world doesn't revolve around reploids. We've got civil wars in Africa, the Middle East is still a mess, there's the issue in regards to the Mongolian energen reserves. The GDC is the only thing that's keeping the powder kegs unlit.
"Hilde? I got yer coffee."
Was Ice Beacon really that big a deal? Enough to declare war on the whole organization? Couldn't be that alone. Everything I have read on the General and his exploits doesn't fit him. He was a humanist, even declared it within his private writings! Why wage war against the only human organization, flawed as it may be, that is managing to keep the world in a state that resembles order? Peace at gunpoint might not be desirable, but it's better than the alternative, for the time being.
"Hilde?"
The Captain said once that the farther from the front lines a commander is, the less likely he is able to see the details in the big picture. Apollo wasn't that sort of commander though. Everything that happened back on the 10th was planned out. It didn't end the way he wanted, but the act itself was executed according to a doctrine. He knew what could happen, but went through with it anyway. What would he say if he could see things now? Just as planned?
"Hey!"
Hilde's eyes blinked, and she stared at Ricardo who sat across from her at the mess hall.
"Birthday girl's day dreaming." He chided. "Coffee's gonna get cold."
"I'm sorry." She quickly sipped from the steaming mug before her. It may as well have been black tar with how thick it was, but she didn't drink the stuff because she enjoyed it and wouldn't gladly pay exorbitant prices at a coffee shop to marvel at it's exquisite flavors. Coffee was early morning wake up juice and nothing more. More specifically, the caffeine caused a chemical reaction within her artificial blood that reduced accumulated viscosity, the cause of 'drowsiness' for a reploid of her type. "I was thinking about stuff, that's all."
"You too, huh?" Ricardo leaned closer to her from across the table, presenting a brochure from his breast pocket. "I was thinking the Bahamas. Be nice to have a vacation, don't you think?"
"Ass, don't bring that up now."
"Well, technically, I am still supposed to be on medical leave."
"Hypatia's still pissed at you about that, too."
"Yeah, well, she can deal. Most of us should be on vacation. That was bad business. Mala suerte for everyone involved. Things are a bit too important to walk away from right now, so here I am, with the rest of the team."
"I guess we're all stubborn like that." She smiled, draining the remainder of her caffeine sludge. "I better get moving. Gonna be running CQB drills with the rooks of the 127th for the next three hours."
"How are they coming?"
"Well, they are reploids. They're technically as proficient as you or I at every possible thing we could expect them to be in our work, but you can't-"
"-train experience." Ricardo finished with her. "Dumb question, but I guess it had to be asked. Captain's gonna have me on the range today. Yearly buster and magpistol qualifications for non-combat personnel."
"Don't let Hypatia kill herself on accident, alright?" Hilde stood to leave, blowing a very theatrical kiss in his direction before walking away. "I suspect you'll be fine, but try not to stand to close to her on the firing line."
"Don't overdo it with yer rocket shoes, dear!" He called after her. "It'll be fine! I say fifty dollars she quals as an Expert!"
"Gambling against the odds? I love that about you, but you know what Ricky? I'm fifty bucks richer, and you're buying dinner. See you at lunch." she spun back to face him, winking.
"You'll see! Fifty bucks is steak tonight, and you'll be buying!" he shouted after her as she left the mess hall behind.
He hadn't expected to survive the ordeal; rather, he expected the worst-case scenario, as he had always been taught to do. You prepared for the worst and prayed to whatever higher powers you believed in for the best, and made do with the tools you were given for the situation you found yourself stuck in. The Captain of MSWAT, or Erebus, as he now called himself, had 'walked' away from September 10th with a single working arm, and many former comrades dead, by his hands and by newer comrades he'd trained himself. The process of his reconstruction had been swift, thanks to New Tokyo's support in getting MSWAT back on its feet in more ways than one, but the honeymoon had ended as swiftly as the arrival of X and Zero on that fateful day. MSWAT had been remade into LA Hunter HQ, and the 'Old Breed' of MSWAT had become its leaders and instructors, for now. The GDC had been unusually quiet about the composition of the newly formed command, which left Erebus with an abnormal amount of control over just how it was organized.
He actually enjoyed that. For a long time, Erebus had wanted something even more surgical, more all encompassing in a Hunter unit. It was a throwback to his days in the US Army, but he'd always wanted to expand on the concept of MSWAT, which was about as close to a real military unit as any civilian organization would approach in terms of training and capability. It was something that seemed to be lacking, and for some reason, he felt it was his direct responsibility to see this change through.
LA Hunter HQ would only be the surface. Indeed, it would be the face of enforcement for the city and most of southern California. There needed to be something more, something with more 'bite'. He'd flown the idea past Signas at MHHQ, and the commander type had looked incredulous, which was exactly what he'd been going for. He'd gone directly to the Secretary of Defense with the concept, and had gotten almost immediate approval after meeting with the President himself. All that was needed now was time.
The old MSWAT was essentially gone. It had died with Apollo's Rebellion as an organization that had been powerless in the face of such overwhelming odds, unable to prevent anything, unable to resist without external assistance, and unable to follow up on anything after it was all over. MSWAT had been a part of a world that only reacted to Maverick incidents. Simply putting up Hunter HQ's or having 'patrols' wasn't deterring anything, and with non-viral Mavericks on the rise, and with laws regarding humans and reploids being what they were, deterrence would never mean anything, it never would to those with nothing to lose and nothing to gain. MSWAT would continue to be used, it did what it did well enough that it wasn't obsolete. But after it was restored and reshaped into a larger entity than it had been before, Erebus and his Old Breed would have a different set of obligations to fulfill.
They would be more than Hunters, more than MSWAT. Replacing what they had lost during the Rebellion, they would be an organization of forty well-trained human and reploid field personnel, and just under a hundred support staff. They'd have access to any intelligence gathered by the DIA, NSA, CIA, FBI, MHHQ, and would cross train with the best and the brightest the US military had to offer, with the best of the best around the whole world. A truly offense based task force, with the goal of striking the enemy before they had a chance to cause harm. Human or Maverick, there could never be another Rebellion, regardless of the reasons. It was the sort of organization he'd dreamt of for years, something he never though possible with Uprising after Uprising, after the Rebellion, but it was his to command, in spite of everything.
That is why you gave me the data, Apollo. You knew what you did was wrong, and you went through with it anyway, because it was the only way you could think of to bring those issues back into the public eye. You knew I could do something about it, in some small way. You knew you had set a dangerous precedent. You knew exactly what it was you set into motion, and you knew that something specific, something irregular in nature would be needed to fight it. You'll be happy to know I accepted the challenge.
All they needed was time. Time to finish preparing the foundations of LA Hunter HQ, time to prepare the public face of MSWAT, and time to extend his newly found connections into the agencies he'd have to answer to. Officially, they could never exist, the standing policy of the US military was that no unit with a high percentage of reploid personnel could ever have what Erebus had managed to achieve here.
"The Maverick Hunters do their job very well. MSWAT does its job very well. It isn't enough. We've been reacting to Maverick and terrorist incidents in the wake of The Wars. Deterrence means nothing to the enemy. They are not deterred by the size of the Hunter organization. They are not deterred by the strength of our armed forces. The organizational structure of the enemy requires something similar to it to counter. I'm proposing an irregular task force, with people I hand pick. Human, reploid, it makes no difference what they are. Raw ability counts for more than race or gender or rank."
"How do we trust a reploid who once was a part of the 2nd RSF?"
"If my own service record and the records of those in my command are not enough, I submit to you a bargaining chip in your favor. If it should ever come down to it, our information and logistics network can be set in a way that if the need arises, we can be cut off completely from any form of assistance or association with the US government. My unit would be completely at your disposal for anti-Maverick and anti-terrorist operations and investigations in regards to interests to the country, and also we would be at your mercy. I only need your approval, and time."
"You're absolutely serious?"
"I was special forces. We were trained to make what we say a reality, even if it looks impossible. Gentlemen, I'm only asking for a hundred and forty of the best people I've gathered over the last five years to be taken off the leash for the express purpose of doing what the Hunters can't do publicly and discreetly. We will get to the sources of organized Maverick crime and domestic terror, and eliminate them."
"You have a name for this unit?"
"Nothing official. It might be best if we didn't have a name or a number assigned to us. But if you want, you can call it-"
"Vanguard. The very tip of the spear." Erebus murmured to himself, as he sat alone in his new office. Glancing at a display on his data terminal, he stood up to leave. Vanguard was already in motion, but he couldn't let his day-to-day duties suffer from inattention. He assumed it was like being a mother to a pair of growing and dangerous minded children, minus the complications of normal childbirth. "Eees naht eh toomah!" he grunted in the voice of a forgotten movie star, chuckling to himself as he exited his office. People stared at him for a moment, and went on their way. The Captain was known for that sort of weirdness.
The Blue Bomber of 21XX sighed as more 'paperwork' seemed to pile into the 'box' on his data terminal. Despite his own tendencies towards pacifism, Mega Man X had grown into a skilled warrior. As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was a part of him that enjoyed the moments where his life was unquestionably in danger, and as a whole, he certainly preferred physical activity to reading and signing off on e-reports, especially since they all read practically the same. It was getting to the point to where even Signas was considering revamping the patrol report protocols to something far less formal, but until he had approval from GDC Command, 'paperwork' needed to be filled out by Commanders all the way down to the lowliest of janitors, and depending on your actual job at MHHQ, it got more extensive or obnoxious.
Nothing to report, nothing to report, nothing to report. Confirm, confirm, confirm. Oh, this one's good. 'Would you like some NOTHING to go alongside of your JACK SHIT?' Zero, you never change.
It was almost eerie how Maverick incidents had nearly dropped down to nothing across Japan, and around the world, things were slow in general for the Hunter establishment. Surprisingly, this hadn't lead to the immediate downsizing of the organization, but that was always something that hung over their heads. It was an eventuality, but they were going to make the best of the strength they now had, as temporary as it might seem. The grim reality was that the GDC could not afford to weaken the Hunters for the moment, more than they couldn't afford to maintain the current numbers of Hunters worldwide. With the AmeriCanadian Alliance no longer supporting the GDC militarily, it was only a matter of time before the Maverick Hunters found themselves pressed into peacekeeping duties throughout the world. Apollo's Rebellion would likely be felt for decades. Even now, Hunters based in China and Russia found themselves taking part more and more often in border patrols that focused more on the 'OpFor' across the border. It was an awkward situation. On one hand, a Hunter knew his immediate duty was to find and destroy Mavericks. On the other, Reploids, like humans, knew where they were born and raised so to speak, and as such, had loyalties to their homeland the same as anyone else. X was grateful to not have that conflict of interest to worry about.
There was plenty more than just Mavericks that threatened the world. That the human race had still not managed to unite under one banner was unsurprising. It wasn't pure stupidity as the primary cause, either. X could remember how pessimism had gotten the best of him at times during his early Hunter days, how he'd brood about humanity being too stupid or stubborn to set aside things like race, religion, material resources, money, sex, you name it. How homo sapiens were just a bunch of dumb monkeys whose defining trait was it's ability to almost wipe the planet clean of life several times in the space of a single century, and their ability to find new and exciting ways to be more efficient at such a goal should the need ever arise. These were the things he might have thought, especially in the darkest hours of 2124.
But the reality was that it was impossible for people to just set aside differences. It was impossible to expect needs and desires to be suppressed entirely for every single person. The human race might have believed itself to be better than the rest of the animals in the natural world, but like any animal, competition, the struggle for life over death was constant. It came in waves, was motivated by the weather, by the environment, which in turn was manipulated purposefully or inadvertently by these creatures.
There would always be disagreement. There would always be wars, and hatred was part of the parcel. As he gained more experience with the world, as he grew older, X found himself understanding how important it was to have his pacifist beliefs, how important it was that he never let them go, even while he himself wielded a cannon capable of manufacturing various types of explosive ordinance on top of an impressive control of lethal plasmic bolts that could melt down some of the hardest materials made by Man. Humans were a race of contradictions, and X, the progenitor of the reploid race, had been crafted in their image by one of the finest specimens they ever produced. Tempered idealism was better than nothing.
Once the reports were settled for the day, he could consider getting his own patrol started. After hours of busywork like this, the chance to get on a Ride Chaser and let the wind fill his ears was as close to heaven as he expected to get. It was a chance to leave behind the swelling questions that only grew more numerous as time passed.
"I suppose you are not the person I should be telling this to, but you are my father in a loose sense. I guess I will feel better about what I, what we are about to do, to at least let someone know why before it starts, even if in reality you cannot hear me. Afterwards, who knows what the world will think. I was built to follow orders, built to fight, to fly, and I did so unquestioningly for years. Even when others of your species wanted to us to be destroyed, I served proudly, even as your kind threatened to tear this world apart, I served. I protected. I did good things, and I did questionable things, but I never once stopped following orders. I never once asked myself if humanity was worth the sacrifices we all made, until September 10th, 2133."
"Reploids were meant to bring about an age of prosperity, but even now, there are those among my kind and yours that work against it. Sigma, the GDC…the corruption spreads, and we, those who were built to guarantee the prosperity of humanity, sit idly by, and watch, and pretend that things are all falling into place, that everything will somehow, in the end, right itself. Forgive me, 'father'. I still feel that humans are worth fighting for, and are worth dying for. I just feel that if things are going to improve, human blood is going to have to join our own on the sacrificial altar. I wish that, more than anyone else, you would be one of those that could understand why I feel this way."
The female reploid stood up from the marker of James Cain's final resting place on the grounds of MHHQ, a lithe figure armored in black and gray, with mechanical wings folded neatly against her back. Her white hair was kept in a single lengthy braid that fell over her right shoulder, eyes golden in color. She looked around, and noticed that the reploid guard had respectfully kept his distance as she had requested, but was already on the way back. There was a possibility he heard her whispered words, but she had been vague enough. This whole thing had been a risk, but she wasn't in any real danger.
"You done?" The Hunter honor guard was an odd one. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a somewhat more oversized cowboy from the Wild West. Hunter uniform standards were incredibly lax, and the woman felt a tinge of jealousy. Where she'd come from, personalization of armor and equipment had been frowned upon. "Usually don't get too many outsiders around here." He took a swig from what appeared to be a canteen, and the woman couldn't help but chuckle at that. The guard was really going for the gunslinger look. "Not that we mind visitors around here, of course."
"I said what I needed to say. Sorry to tell you to stand aside for a moment, I know how much this place must mean to you all."
"Doctor Cain was a great man." The guard said somberly. "Were you a hunter?"
"No, just a former United States Army Lieutenant Commander in the Second Reploid Special Forces, number seven, Nike." She replied quietly, inspecting the honor guard's name badge. "I was never a Hunter, Guernica." The guard's expression hardened, the magrifle he was equipped with was immediately aimed at the former Special Forces reploid's face. His look was deceptive, but Guernica was obviously very good at his work. He hadn't betrayed a hint of surprise at Nike's revelation, and if he intended to shoot, there was no way she could avoid it. She watched, with a hint of a smile, as the rifle barrel made a minute adjustment towards the place where her control chip was hidden behind the golden jewel at the center of her forehead.
"This was pretty stupid of you, little lady. You coulda walked right on out of here, but then you had to give me a name, rank, and former affiliation to feed into the database." Guernica drawled. "You didn't raise any red flags when you walked up, so why the act now?"
"You asked my occupation. I merely answered."
"You're a Maverick."
"I'm not about to deny that."
"I ain't gonna disrespect Cain and drill one between your eyes while he's catching some shut eye, but keep in mind that the silent alarm's already up, and there ain't a chance in hell you can warp out of here."
"That is very kind of you to spare me the bullet. Unfortunately, I'm already gone, sharpshooter." Guernica's world suddenly turned black, he could see nothing. He could hear just fine, however. Her voice was now behind him. "Hunters have very complicated barriers surrounding their control chip systems. So sorry, but this is my area of expertise. I had to hack your eyes to shut them down for a moment. In a minute it'll be like I was never messing with your brain."
"This is what I get for sparing a lady." Guernica sighed, dropping the rifle and holding his hands up. "You have maybe thirty seconds before the cavalry arrives."
"Actually, I have all the time in the world. According to my diagnostics, you didn't send any signals. None that I didn't block."
"Oh. Well, damnit." Guernica let some mock frustration into his voice. "So, are you just going to put a beam saber through the chip and leave them a corpse to clean up?"
"No, you are just doing your job. I'm just going to walk away."
"You're awful strange, Maverick. You know I'm going to report this."
"The Hunter with a cowboy hat says I am strange. Of course I know you'll report this. I want you to."
"Just bombing around the world, living the fugitive life? You know, we might have treated you better than the sort of people the US military is sending after you."
"You might have." There was the sound of a warp generator coming online, and after that, Guernica heard nothing more from the fugitive reploid.
"So long, lady." His eyes regained their sight. He didn't bother turning around to see if she was still there. Leaning over to pick up his rifle, he brushed at the dirt that had gotten onto it. He ran a diagnostic his own internal database, and found that nothing had been altered whatsoever, which that alone was confusing and disturbing. She'd bypassed layers upon layers of protections, targeting his optics specifically, and left no traces of her work behind. Guess I shouldn't expect any less from a Special Forces model. Gonna be an all nighter after this, I can smell it. He waited a moment, taking in the star filled sky before he opened up his emergency comlink. "Code black, code black, Cain's Memorial!"
"So she claimed she was a former short Commander of the 2nd RSF, flirted with you, and buzzed off?" Zero Omega didn't look as amused by the incident as Guernica appeared to be.
"I might be embellishing the 'flirting' part, but that, more or less, is how it went down." Zero scowled in response. "Look, my visual data is intact, alright?"
"Every single camera in the areas she could have passed through shows no records of her arrival." Zero pointed down the stone walkway that lead into the memorial. "But your data shows she just walked right on up to you."
"You're saying she wirelessly hacked every single camera leading up to where I was on post?"
"There are six other Hunters she should have passed by, according to their own statements. She also easily shut off your eyes at one point. So, not just cameras, but other reploids with your level of program defenses. I'm willing to bet she left you as the only witness to prove something to us. 'Look at me, I'm still alive, and you'll never catch me.' That sort of nonsense. Doesn't make it any more appealing to think that she could do that so effectively. Go report in to a doc and get yourself a full diagnostic for any program anomalies and the like. I'll be running forensics detail around here for a couple hours, and by the time your check up is complete, I want a full written report of your entire time on post tonight. Down to the smallest detail. All of your personal surveillance logs, too."
"You got it, boss." Guernica sighed.
"She said her name was Nike, number seven?" Zero started to walk off towards a small group of investigators.
"Yeap."
"There's an MSWAT captain we met who might be interested in this."
Zero had been instrumental in crushing Apollo's Rebellion, and he had left it as over and done in his mind. The fighting had been fast and furious, and many Hunters and Mavericks had died, but it had ended in a resounding victory for the Hunters, and by proxy, AmeriCanada won out big in the political side of the whole debacle. Nice and neat. The US itself acknowledged the two missing commander class Mavericks and was dedicating an undeclared amount of resources to hunting them down and exterminating them. It should have been left at that. With Nike showing up in Japan, it became an international affair once more. Zero didn't like having to watch his back quite this much, but her message had been clear. If she had any grudges to pick with specific Hunters, she could have easily made good on them. He wouldn't be such an easy target, but X was particularly vulnerable by comparison. The Azure Hunter had good instincts, but he wasn't the same combatant as Zero was. Their respective fathers had built them with different purposes.
"Hey X, I'm sending you another report, this one's a bit more important." Zero spoke into a communicator. "I know we're due off shift here soon, but go over it. And don't go out on a Chaser alone tonight. You'll understand when you read it."
"Is it that bad?"
"Just read it."
Erebus looked distracted for a moment, actually fumbled one of the magpistols he was collecting from the qualifying shooters. The unit doctor, Hypatia picked up on this right away. She had a good eye, that one. Another good pick he never regretted from years back. A bit like Hilde in a way, never really intended for the work they did these days, but throwing themselves into it without question, excelling at it. Easily one of the best technicians he could have found out of any civilian organization. He'd have to dig into the military to find better, but alas, he hadn't been given that much sway yet to start dipping into that talent pool.
"Captain?"
"Zero out of MHHQ just sent me some ghost story. Huh."
"Zero contacted you?" Hypatia blushed slightly.
"Jealous? I could hook you two up. Want me to call him back for you?"
"Captain! Don't you dare! Not funny, not funny!" the smaller reploid shouted, almost hysterical. Everyone had a good laugh as The Captain made an exaggerated gesture of picking up a phone and dialing up the Crimson Hunter.
His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.
So soon, Seven? You were the best at that sort of work. You made an awful lot possible for the 2nd RSF on that day, and back when we served together you easily outclassed anyone else at e-warfare. The number never suited you, you may as well have been Apollo's second in command with those skills. You infiltrated MHHQ easily enough, but no kills. Testing yourself? You were never that petty. You were testing them. You want to see what they will do. Are you doing this for Apollo? That isn't the impression of the data he sent me. Just another angry survivor? Can't be that alone.
What are you up to, Nike?
"I suppose we'll find out soon enough." He said aloud, confusing the doctor. "Ricardo? You can handle the rest, can't you? Some business has come up and it's pretty urgent." The human rolled up with hovering weapons rack, collecting the magpistols from his Captain.
"Somethin' wrong, Captain?"
"Business is picking up. I'll be in New Tokyo for a little bit. Hilde and Kindle are in charge while I'm away."
"Thanks for coming as quickly as you did. Word hasn't gotten around here just yet, but sooner or later the knowledge of the security breach is going to be common knowledge at MHHQ. Between the falling rate of incidents to deal with and this, it'll be another hit to morale" X sat with his fingers crossed, looking down at a data pad that had most likely out of date information on Nike. Leaning against a wall next to him was Zero. Across from them sat Erebus, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee.
"It isn't the same as essentially saving my city, but consider this the start of some form of payment for your efforts last month."
"After we couldn't confirm Nike's corpse, you explained to us that if we ever needed data on her capabilities, or any information in general on other rogue members of the 2nd RSF, we should go directly to you before contacting your government." Zero went straight to the point. "We have one reploid who is the only person we can confirm saw her arrive here, any others, it's as if she never was here to begin with. We don't know how she did it."
"No weight sensors on any elevators were tripped, no infrared cam data, no visual data. Nothing, right? Well, she hasn't lost her touch. I imagine she concentrated on the floor pressure detection protocols first, operating on thermoptics for the most part. Thing is, you get close enough to a reploid, they'll hear the system engaged, even if they might not be able to see the distortion that humans apparently can. Reploids have a harder time with spotting the cloak field the US Military puts on it's SOCOM units. Deliberate design choice, something to do with the resolution limitations of our eyes." Erebus grunted. "That can explain any people who should have made helpful witnesses being completely unable to recall anything. As far as they are concerned, they never saw or heard anything, and worse yet, there's no tampering with their actual memory, so you can't use that to work with."
"What we're really concerned with is the people she hacked." X brought up seven personnel files on a wallscreen behind him. "If she can easily rewrite visual memory data, or even shut off physical functionality, could she conceivably control a reploid to do her bidding?"
"She might be able to do that with a mechaniloid. Reploids are a different story. You want me to give you my honest assessment?"
"Shoot."
"If she wanted to level the MHHQ, she'd have done it by now. She's obviously shown the capacity to fool your security and your people. Don't take it as an insult, Nike could very well be inside the Pentagon right now and they'd never suspect a thing. To her, this was purely a reconnaissance mission."
"We've checked out own databases. Nothing has changed. We've had no external unauthorized access as far as we can tell." X smiled weakly. "Of course, now that we know what we do know about her, that's a small comfort at best."
"Well, this might make things a bit easier for you." Erebus opened a compartment in his chest armor and produced a small black cube. "You are now not in possession her original design schematics, updated with any maintenance data or additional physical enhancements she might have acquired as of six months ago. It's out of date, but it definitely is better than nothing, assuming you even had this." Setting it on the table, Erebus stood to leave.
"So, now that we don't have this data, where would you get such a thing?" X had a bemused smirk on his face. "I mean, I'm sure you know better than to deliver classified military secrets to an organization that belongs to the GDC, especially considering your own government's current standing with them."
"There's nothing on there that the GDC doesn't already have. Not that they'd tell you anything quite that detailed about her." Erebus was halfway to the door when he suddenly stopped. "Say, where is that commander of yours, that Signas guy?"
"There's a security conference in Berlin that he's attending. He's in the loop, if that's what you're asking." Zero said. "What's up?"
"I've got a project I'm working on, small thing really. Was gonna ask about some logistics issues. Nothing major." Tipping at hat that wasn't actually there at the two heroes, The Captain opened the door to leave. "If anything comes up regarding her or any of the missing survivors, gimme another ring, alright?"
"Sure thing. Good to see you again, Captain." X stood and snapped off a respectful salute.
"Aw, come on now, you outrank me, remember?" Erebus sauntered out the door.
There was a long silence before Zero finally spoke up.
"Do you really think that Nike didn't intend anything serious?"
"You don't trust his assessment?"
"Honestly, no. Nothing against the guy, but I can't exactly be so relaxed about a lapse in security like this."
"She has no real motive. She told Guernica that he was just doing his job, and spared him. We did the same on that day. If it makes you feel better, I got Signas to approve a doubled up flight patrol plan. In a couple days, we'll have two satellites in a geosynch orbit over Japan, so that'll help with our coverage overall. At this point though, we can't do much else. We'll schedule a security upgrade within the week for all MHHQ staff though, to be on the safe side. We can't disagree than if she wanted a bloodbath, she would have had a pretty large one before she was stopped." X stood from his seat, shutting down his data terminal. "That's it, I'm done for the day. I'm taking a Land Chaser out. You still want to be my bodyguard?"
"I get the feeling you're making fun of me." Zero's face took on a dangerously playful expression. "We should spar for a bit. C'mon." He threw a light punch to X's shoulder, who parried it aside with a laugh.
"Hell no. I'm off the clock, no more hard work."
"Fine, lets go ride bikes like kids then." Zero sighed in mock disappointment. "I can still beat you at Land Chaser racing, so I'll take what I can get."
"That so?"
X managed to be the first through the office door, dash thrusters blazing. Zero was just behind him, howling something about cheating. Hunter and maintenance worker alike only shook their heads knowingly.
Erebus had returned to his office without a word to anyone. Nobody had even noticed his return, and he wanted it that way. As far as Kindle and Hilde knew, if there was an emergency call, they would lead the current MSWAT out into the situation and deal with it as commanders in his stead. He could only keep up his joking demeanor for so long, but knowing what he did know now, Erebus doubted that alcohol could sooth his mind as scenario after scenario surrounding the woman who now called herself Nike. A mail icon blinked in the lower right of his vision. It was a file sent by X, Maverick incident data. Some of it had been highlighted. There had been a clear drop off in violent Maverick crime after the events of September 10th.
What was the correlation? Was there any?
Like most of the world, Erebus had become almost numbed to the concept of Mavericks and Sigma. With the knowledge that becoming a Maverick could be viral in nature, and was for most cases in the past, it had become a fact of life. The seeming absence of Sigma and his schemes behind the Rebellion was unexpected.
The 2nd RSF hadn't been infected. They were the largest, and most powerful group of reploids to make the choice to commit Maverick actions in recent history.
Now one of their former commanders was running around the world, had shown up at the final resting place of the father of modern reploids. That also didn't account for the other missing commander class unit, and it didn't account for small number of soldiers who had chosen to flee rather than submit to US authority. The problem that had brought down the Rebellion initially was that they had picked a stand up fight as opposed to one that suited their original purpose. If Nike was planning something, probing for that something, it was the worst-case scenario already. Vanguard, in any state of readiness, would be hard pressed to stop her. Any organization would be.
"Looks like I'll have to step things up on my end." He logged into his data terminal, and went to work.
A day began for some and ended for others.
The world was in great shape.
Business as usual.