CHAPTER 4

Albuquerque International Sunport, Albuquerque, NM; United States of America

0:04 March 9th, 2151

Having switched into some civvies, and left his armor in the saddlebags in his new Ride Chaser and set it to remote-activation teleport, Taggs now stood in line waiting for the chance to buy a ticket so he could get the hell out of Dodge. Or, rather, the southwest. Running a hand through his red hair, he looked like any other civilian Reploid in a burgundy leather jacket, a pair of pants, and sneakers. However, under his artificial skin were the mechanical workings of a fully self-aware robot, and a strange power core that could supply him with nigh-infinite power.

He rubbed his eyes wearily and took another step forward as the line advanced. He wasn't physically tired; the Eternal Core made it so that he never could become physically tired. But that didn't stop him from feeling mentally drained. All this business with the Hunters recently... it seemed they had taken a renewed interest in the Eternals. Shortly after the Doppler Incident, which had been yet another Maverick Insurgence triggered by Sigma, the Mavericks had all but died out, and the public felt that the Maverick Hunters were no longer needed. Needing public support to stay operational, the Hunters consulted Cain's personal files without his permission and set about branding all his failed but still living projects as Mavericks. The Eternal Series, Taggs' six other brothers, were at the top of their list. They began a black op to capture them, proclaim them as Maverick Generals, and use the story to gain publicity and more funding.

The op had just barely begun before a real Maverick incident occurred, something called the "Limited virus". It took a while to quell, and it reappeared twice more, but the Hunters had found themselves back in the same position as after Doppler: in desperate need of funding. It seemed like the horrid operation would get resumed, but then the Repliforce went rogue, leading them away from the Eternals once more. And now, Taggs couldn't shake the feeling that the Hunters were starting the operation for a third time, but with Sigma's final defeat, nothing would stop them now.

A headline airing on the TV hanging just above Taggs' head broke his thoughts and caught his attention. Looking up, he listened to the news report: "...with the passing of Dr. Cain comes many questions, most concerning the future of Cain Industries. Artemis Cain, Dr. Cain's son, is reassuring the public that he has every mind to continue his father's work. Meanwhile, funeral preparations are being made in a field outside Cain's home town of Fenton, Michigan. The men, women, and Reploids working on it say that everything is on schedule and funeral events will commence at noon tomorrow..."

He felt his mind buzzing as he tuned out the sounds of the TV and people all around him. Dr. Cain is... dead? Sure, he wasn't the best father... after all, it's his fault that Bane is dead and Chance is a Maverick, but still, he created us.

"Can I help you, sir?" said a female voice, and Taggs was startled out of his thoughts. He looked around, and realized he had unconsciously moved with the line up to the counter.

"Uh, yeah, I'd like..." he hesitated only for a moment and then made a decision immediately: "I'd like a one-way ticket to Michigan."

"Yes, sir, if you'd please present your ID..." she droned on, leading Taggs through the procedures, but his mind wasn't in the airport: it was already preparing to board the plane and visit his "father's" funeral.

Boston, MA; United States of America

7:49 March 9th, 2151

"SHANDOR! Get your lazy ass in here!"

The thin, hawkish Reploid ran into the room, his jet-black hair dripping wet and clinging to his ankles. He wore only pants. "Yes, your highness? What is it?" He spoke in a voice edged with sarcasm and annoyance.

"Help me with my suitcase, will you?" Lafteroth asked, sitting on the top of a brown leather suitcase. "It's been too long since we last used these things. The locks have all rusted over." Shandor grumbled, crossing the room as she hopped off the suitcase, and started to fiddle with the contraptions on the side of the luggage. "While you do that, I think I'll go see if Middy's packed yet," she said, and left the room.

Midnight was in the living room, and as the white-haired Reploid girl walked into the room, he was just putting down the phone. He stood in silence for a few minutes before seeming to notice Lafteroth. He spoke without facing her: "Be sure to pack your armor and weapons. The Hunters have work for us, and one of their representatives will meet with us at the funeral. Tell Shandor to do the same." Without another word, the purple-haired Reploid walked into his own room and shut the door. Shrugging, she walked back into her room, where her other brother was still struggling with the locks.

"Accursed mechanical device!" he cried out and proceeded to futilely beat the suitcase with his hand. Lafteroth walked over and sat on the bed.

"Middy says to bring our stuff," she said, "Apparently the Hunters have work for us."

"Good," the black-haired Reploid said, huffing in frustration, "I was worried this trip would be all black and frowns. A little job with money behind it would certainly spice up the trip. What're the details?"

His sister shook her head. "I don't know. Midnight said something about a representative meeting us at the funeral."

She glanced over at him. "...aren't you done with that suitcase yet?"