Phase 8: The Supercircus (Part Two)
December 12th, 2133
Seogwipo, Jeju-do, Korea
11:59 AM
Zero felt rather isolated, having struck out on his own and leaving the rest of the Hunters in pairs, save for Falcon, whom he'd ordered to perform a fly over of Mount Hallasan, one of several locations that had been pointed out by Signas' data. His internal diagnostics displays had been giving him a rough interpretation of the situation around him, but with communications channels deemed unsafe for use, he was cut off from his people, and from the vital satellite intelligence MHHQ could provide. Fortunately, they'd all agreed to a rally point, and it wasn't very far from his current position. It was one of the taller office/apartment combinations towers where he had specifically posted Guernica and Lao, which gave them a good vantage point of Naval Air Station Gangjeong, where his meeting had taken place, and of two of the points where the Mavericks were suspected to have warped directly to after they escaped MHHQ on the 7th. If he was lucky, he would see everyone there, and they could formulate some sort of plan to trace the source of the rogue transmission, and terminate it.
He felt some surprise at the nature of this new attack. It did not fit the psychological profile of the enemy he had been building since MHHQ was attacked. If the marks they were hunting were responsible, this was the most unfocused of their actions. Assuming that the data Signas had provided about the Mavericks was accurate, they were also responsible for the attacks on the energen facilities in China and Russia, and they were definitely survivors of the Los Angeles incident.
Zero was starting to understand and even respect the modus operandi of this particular group of Mavericks. Small strike teams for very big objectives, the in-the-field acquisition of 'local resources' to use as reinforcements, the consistent use of mechaniloids from local military bases. He could even see the distinction from their methods and those of Vile's. Where as Nike's people had focused almost exclusively on the Hunters, with the specific intent on crippling or destroying the capabilities of Hunters in Japan and in the US, Vile had all but admitted that his involvement was just an excuse to kill as many people as he could. He was the only wrinkle in an otherwise deadly coordinated team of committed fighters.
The more Zero thought about it, the more he started to see how the former military Mavericks saw the world, how they would act, react. They were men and women comfortably in control of the situation they'd engineered, able to pick and choose where, when, and how they would strike. They had no need to risk a dangerous battle with Hunters actively on the prowl for them, not if they wished to maintain their secrecy on Jeju-do for much longer. If their base of operations was truly on this island.
Interesting that information pointing to Jeju-do just fell into Signas' lap like that, information he admits he isn't supposed to have and couldn't have gotten on his own, Zero thought. We don't know where they're really coming from, we just have information that conveniently links them to here. Their leader's a master of information manipulation, and everything we've dealt with up to this point has been a result of a series of convenient, engineered coincidences. We're being steered into specific responses they have created specifically for us. The real question is for what exactly.
There's no way we're catching them here. They probably aren't even on this island anymore. Why direct us here, then?
His thoughts were interrupted by the first explosions ripping through NAS Gangjeong behind him.
I want to be surprised, I really do.
From where he stood, roughly a mile away from the main gate to the base, Zero was still able to make out some of the grim details of this new attack. Missile trails, tracers, and the occasional beam cannon shot rose from the ground, the locations obscured in places by buildings, smoke or flame. In the sky, juking, bobbing, weaving between the ground fire and returning some of their own with robotic precision, were Mitsubatchi, Korean models. They didn't appear to be as fully loaded as the group that hit New Tokyo, but they seemed to be doing fine with their built in auto-cannons and ventral mounted plasma canons.
That has to be the whole base compliment up there.
Other contacts were picked up by his HUD and marked, headed towards the city. In total, he could confirm over eighty mechaniloid units in the air, though occasionally the beleaguered ground defenses at the naval base managed to pick one out of the sky. Zero watched as stricken Mitsubatchi deliberately steered themselves as much was possible towards standing structures, one final desperate attempt at killing more of their enemy before the end.
Recalling where he'd assigned people when they had all first arrived on the island, Zero knew that he was the closest that could respond to this, even assuming the others were going to the predetermined rally point. He had to trust that the others would know what he was doing, and support him without needing to be told to. There was no doubt in his mind that he could rely on the others to take down the few Bee Bladers headed towards the population centers at the moment. He also did not doubt that if local defense forces did not manage to get their act together at Gangjeong, his people would be hard pressed to stop so many rogue mechaniloids once they got into the cities of Seogwipo and Jeju proper.
If NAS Gangjeong was wiped out, the Hunters and Vanguard soldiers would have little in the way of support from the local human military until reinforcements arrived from the mainlands, which would be hours under the best predictions Zero could offer. If Vile or the other Mavericks were at the base, Zero needed to be there as well.
Course of action decided, Zero Omega disabled the limiters to his movement and combat systems, and broke into a full sprint, down the center of the street he was on, leaping over vehicles and humans as necessary.
He found himself hoping, almost pleading to some unknown power, that Vile was there. The other Mavericks would just be bonus points.
He was minutes out at this speed.
Maverick Hunter HQ New Tokyo
The presence of Signas in the command center made everyone else somewhat nervous, only amplifying the tension felt after they'd lost contact with not only the entire Hunter team sent to Jeju-do, and the Americans who'd volunteered for the joint operation, but Jeju-do itself had simply vanished off the Network. Geosynchronous satellites that facilitated the Warp Network were also down, which made sending reinforcements for the Hunters difficult, if not impossible. A bad week, becoming worse.
"I need up to the minute updates on Jeju-do from the Korean Ministry of Defense!" Signas snapped, marching over to the blue-haired female reploid in charge of providing operational support for Zero's team. "What are we up against, Navigator Beryl?"
"Commander, as far as I can tell, it's a Pervasive Network Flood, disguising a viral payload. I've had to cut off our data links to anything outgoing from Jeju-do-"
"In turn cutting our links to anyone we have sent over there."
"It's not the best solution, sir!" Beryl's voice raised to a near-shout, and she half stood our of her seat before she reminded herself who she was about to start arguing with. Signas himself took a step back, clearing his throat unnecessarily. "Sir...I've been trying to find a way-"
"There is no need to defend your actions." The commander's voice was just above a whisper.
"-it's just not safe for our own networks, any reploid at HQ, sir..." Beryl said, her voice wavering now. "Our analysis of what we did catch of the transmissions out of Jeju-do confirms...it's the Virus. A variant, but definitely the Virus- I was last communicating with Solar Falcon, the signal got so distorted and weak- He could, they all could-"
"Good lord." Signas allowed himself to consider the implications of this. Jeju-do had two military facilities, on the north and southern coasts of the island, there were over a million civilian residents also to consider.
In a sense, it was a return to form for the enemy. Repliforce had, for the most part, willingly participated in their rebellion. In Los Angeles, the 2nd RSF had not simply chosen to become Mavericks, but upon surrender, not a single trace of any irregularities could be found in their systems. Not even Repliforce had been able to say that. With a Virus variant detected, that eliminated the possibility that this had simply been an act of free will on the part of Nike's elusive forces.
At least, this made the next course of action simple.
"Keep trying to re-establish contact with our people, Beryl, inform me as soon as you succeed."
She nodded jerkily, then immersed herself with her new orders, fingers rapidly playing across the holographic control panels that opened and closed before her. Signas returned to his seat at the center of the room, the primary communications screen already demanding his attention. As soon as he accepted the transmission, he found himself staring at a visibly upset female reploid.
"I am Lenneth, second in command of Vanguard. Signas, what the hell is going on in Jeju-do?"
"We're still piecing together what little intel we have available. I was actually about to contact you, as per my agreement with Erebus." He was speaking truthfully in that regard, he was going to need the help of the remainder of Vanguard, if this was truly a worst case scenario.
"I've lost all form of contact with Erebus and all of Bravo team-"
"And Jeju-do is completely off the data and warp networks, we are aware. We have intelligence that indicates we may be facing a serious Maverick riot on the island."
"That's what the media is reporting right now here in the States. NORAD lost contact with one of its communications arrays in orbit within the affected area, that was the feed I was using to keep in touch with my- our people. The few images we have aren't pretty. Would you like them uploaded?"
"I would, yes." How fast, how far has this spread already? Signas wondered. His answer were six other connection requests from other callers, one of them identified as the GDC Security Council. If the media in the US was already making a story out of this, it'd be impossible to contain it in any reasonable way once more details were available. "Lenneth, how prepared can you be to send reinforcements to Jeju-do? I'll do what I can to convince the Koreans and the GDC to allow more...Hunters onto their soil."
"I will place all remaining Vanguard teams on standby." Lenneth nodded in understanding, but the worry that creased her face had not vanished. "Just let us know when we're clear to warp in. Erebus informed us of the restrictions in place from the Koreans, but even so. We would like to help, if at all possible."
"The offer is appreciated, General."
"Nice to hear that title one more time."
She broke the connection first. Signas decided he liked this Lenneth. All business, little small talk. A good fit for the more relaxed, more willfully obtuse Erebus.
He took the next most important call, in terms of chain of command. The faces of the aging men and women, heads of the GDC security council, stared at him intently as the Secretary General began to grill him on the situation and his response. And dutifully, Signas answered to the best of his ability. Finally, he'd managed to satisfy the inquisition, and fired off a pointed query of his own:
If the situation was indeed so unacceptable, why deny him the deployment of more units?
The answer was 'complicated' enough that he found his focus on the conversation dwindling, even as their apparent displeasure was made more obvious to him. Somehow, the Hunters, more specifically Signas, were somehow at fault for not preventing this. He distracted himself from the accusations by studying the final images of Jeju-do from the NORAD satellite that Lenneth had uploaded.
The attack started at NAS Gangjeong, that much has been made clear. Why?
MSWAT HQ
Los Angeles, California
Lenneth had ordered all of Vanguard to prepare for immediate deployment, despite there being no clear way to tell when and if they would be allowed to act, they were going to be ready. The media was doing a bang up job with what little information they had, with commentators debating the wisdom of Korean policy towards Maverick Hunters on their soil, or they discussed whether or not the Korean military was capable of dealing with a significant Maverick Uprising, should this have been the start of one. Much of it was noise running in the background for Vanguard, noise that happened to carry some pieces of interesting information about where they could be going rather soon.
The standby order did not mean much to Ricardo Sato. As a human, he was limited in his 'usefulness' to the whole unit. Unable to warp, if the mission lay far away, he could not participate. It angered him, despite knowing that this was how things were going to be. Still, he joined the rest of Alpha squad in the prep room, preparing to don his gear, "just in case." For the moment, his attention was focused on Hilde as she slipped into her additional protective armor.
"You...don't really have to be here." Hilde spoke almost carefully.
"I know. This is probably about Korea. I know where I'll be." He smirked as he pulled as hard as possible on the straps of Hilde's specially modified combat vest that fit over her standard armor. Despite her bulkier appearance fully kitted out, it struck him how ridiculous it really was that she was a warrior. Her designers had taken the time to ensure she had a figure that was difficult to hide.
"Back home, nice and safe." She moved to test her gear for any serious restrictions to her mobility, finding none. "In the rear with the gear."
"Love you, too."
She pulled him in for a hug, and held him for a long moment before releasing him.
"It'll be fine." She said. "I'll be careful."
"I know, I know." With her help, they began pulling on his own set of protective armor over the dark blue jumpsuit that had become Vanguard standard.
For Alpha squad of Erebus' half of Vanguard, this was something of a sore spot for them. With two human members in the squad, it meant they were two shooters short in long distance missions, but there was no simple way to replace the humans with reploids. By now, they'd become part of the family. People like Ricardo or Charlie team leader Lars Wilder, they'd become irreplaceable for more than just their skills as MSWAT, despite having the 'poor' luck of being born flesh and blood.
The reploids hated leaving behind their human comrades, and the humans dreaded every second of the wait for their friends to come back home. If they'd had better advance notice, they could have taken a physical transport as a whole unit.
Still, Ricardo geared up, treating it every bit as serious as a real deployment for himself, though he could not quiet the memory of what had happened in Russia, where he'd found himself 'dead' with no hope of retaliation. He could not silence the nagging doubt in his mind that he was rapidly growing obsolete in this particular world.
Mount Hallasan, Jeju-do
12:12 PM
Falcon could see the signs of fighting in the distance, and despite being so far away from the action, his hearing was telling the story well enough. By now, he was certain the other Hunters stationed throughout Seogwipo were likely at or headed to the rendezvous point, before moving on to the mass of smoke that was NAS Gangjeong, and he could feel an almost physical sense of being pulled toward the action. However, something else also had his attention.
The closer he got to Mount Hallasan, much of the 'noise' being broadcast seemed to lessen. Not enough that he could contact anyone, or access the warp network safely, but it was something the sensor packages he'd been installed with for this mission were picking up. It could have been easily explained by the lack of active transmission sources on the mountain, but he couldn't satisfy his curiosity with mere speculation. He decided to descend towards the crater lake, one pass, at speed, before racing towards the combat to support his comrades.
Alert, Magnetic Anomaly Detected beneath crater lake Baengnokdam, size of mass indeterminate, speed of mass inconsistent with traditional sub-surface warships.
Warships, Falcon thought grimly.
His own internal database was filled with information on Jeju-do, something he'd done when the orders came down for a team of Hunters to deploy to the island. Interestingly, there had been minor seismic activity in 2120 that had some scientists wondering if the long dormant Mount Hallasan was reawakening. It was a fear worth entertaining, in 2087 Mount Fuji burned out the heart of Japan in an eruption that surprised the world with ferocity that even the best geologists and their surveys failed to predict. Fortunately, the worst case scenario had yet to unfold for Jeju-do. The most that had happened was that the largest crater lake on Hallasan seemed to grow and remain deeper and larger than it historically had averaged.
Instinctively, Falcon readied his buster, his eyes locked onto the sudden churning of the lake surface, something large taking shape just underneath, though still indistinct.
Vile had not been in proper command of an airship before today, and he was very excited to have given himself the opportunity Sigma had not allowed back during the Good Bad Old Days, when they'd had the Death Rogumer and used it to rain death and despair on unprepared victims throughout New Tokyo. It'd been a real laugh riot, save for the getting embarrassed by Zero on the shattered freeway he'd been punting X all over. The memory of that day made Vile clench his teeth so hard that he felt the beginnings of cracks in his jaw.
What the hell is with X that people just flock to him like this? He was a goddamned pacifist, not even a real Hunter at first, not a valuable combat resource, just another machine, like me, Sigma, all of us. I don't get it. I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't-
Secured within a new Ride Armor, a variant of the Goliath he'd so painstakingly crafted and modified for the sole purpose of grinding X to a metallic paste during the Doppler Rebellion, Vile swung one of its massive, clawed hands into a near wall in the launch bay of the ship, named Crossing the Rubicon. At once, he felt almost sorry for the big thing, he was already damaging it before it even saw any real combat, gouging out a section of the thickly armored doors, enough to be concerned about the air-tightness of the bay. Not that it would matter for long, what with the ship surfacing, he just couldn't help himself around his urges. Merely thinking about X, his continued survival over the years, the embarrassment suffered at his hands, the hands of his allies, just made him want to hurt something, break something valuable. The Rubicon was not meant to be within this world for long, but Vile imagined that it deserved better, for now. Loaded down with fifty fully autonomous Goliaths, more firepower than the Death Rogumer ever carried, all of it connected to Vile, able to respond to his commands instantly, the Rubicon was a message. To X, his Hunter comrades, the world in general.
They couldn't stop the rampages, the Rebellions, not all of them.
There'd always be more reploids as a whole than there would be Hunters. More potential Mavericks.
The question was not if they could break. It was when they would break.
"Funny thing about Mavericks," Vile said to the armored shell of the Goliath as it clamped down over his head, fully encasing him from the outside world in darkness. "Y'see, we're not all the same. Something I've heard Hunters say about us, we're all the same, they say. Prolly makes 'em feel better about themselves, the ever incorruptible Hunters!" Vile chuckled at that. "So incorruptible, s'what they wanna think, but it ain't true. They can't explain that guy out in the States back in 2120, what was his name, Glacier?" Laughing harder now, Vile attempted to slap a knee, and the Goliath's mimetic control system did its best to mirror the motion, a loud metallic crash and grinding sound echoing through the bay as the ride armor struck itself repeatedly in the chest, not quite able to reach its knees. "Now that guy, he was a real hero, a whole town in ice, even I haven't gotten around to doing something like that! Funny thing is how the Hunters covered it up, they made it sound like it was a glitch, some sort of bug in his works, that's what drove him batty. Humans believed it, everyone believed it, nobody wants to think of the alternative."
"In a way, I gotta thank that Doppler. 'Cuz of him, most folks think it's just some sort of virus that makes us Maverick. Somehow, the idea that a number of us choose to go Maverick, that doesn't work in their world. Hell, they put Repliforce to the sword, kept the circumstances pretty hush-hush. Impressive to watch from off to the side, really." The cockpit suddenly lit up as the various cameras along the hull and 'head' of the ride armor activated, going through their calibration checks. "Can't we just wake up one day and want to give the world the finger?"
The ride armor did not respond, nor did the voice that whispered those three basic commands to him at its own whim, commands he'd heard for years now.
So far, so good.
There was more still to do before he could really get the ball rolling on this.
"There's no real point to any message if people aren't allowed to hear it."
The ship rumbled as it drew closer to the lake surface, and as the bow crested the waters, a sensor display opened up on the main cockpit monitor, showing him something on one of the external cameras. Someone, becoming more distinct and detailed as water drained over the various lenses focusing on the figure.
"Hunter." Vile snarled at the reploid on screen, seeing his prey backpedal in mid-air, raising its buster helplessly as the Rubicon roared out from the water into the air, turrets, missile launchers, all receiving a single command from their controller, zeroing in on the lone avian reploid.
Falcon knew he was in trouble as soon as the bow of the airship burst through the once calm lake surface, but not the full extent of said trouble until he was able to get a clear look at the shape of vessel. Religion was not something Solar Falcon subscribed to, but he understood why humans and some reploids preferred the comfort of belief in an invisible hand that would guide them, protect them.
Any reploid that gave enough of a damn to join the Hunters was a student of recent history. The resurrected hull lines of the Death Rogumer staring at him, bristling with firepower, was enough to inspire a measure of fear inside the Hunter. His HUD indicated the numerous weapon systems leveling themselves in his direction, helpful ID boxes next to their diamond reticles indicating what they likely were after cross referencing them with databases within his brain. More importantly, he saw that the ship proudly displayed an emblem that had long become synonymous with the Maverick cause, with the Prime Maverick himself.
It wasn't enough to prevent him from acting. Training from days well before his self-imposed exile into Earth's orbit as a mere worker began seeking holes in the firing arcs of all the weapons trained on him, marking them well.
Designed to close with smaller strike craft and destroy them with close range firepower, Falcon was born a monster of air combat, would never be anything but, despite how much he'd tried to be otherwise. Reploids like him had been made to deal with the sort of bad news a carrier of this size could deploy, and after that, home in on their nest, and deal with that as well.
His first instinct, despite a very real sense of fear, was not to run. To run was to admit defeat, to fail as a Hunter, as a combat machine.
He spread his wings, no longer attempting to keep his station in the air, he shifted his weight forward, small verniers all over his body firing, adjusting his course as he brought the pair of jet engines that made up the majority of his back up to full military power, the first time in years, and dove at the airship, a battle cry escaping his stylized beak, the sun at his back.
The HUD was filled with launch indicators, a swarm of two dozen missiles disgorging from ports along the top of the ship, snaking at him low along the hull before popping up at him. The various gun turrets held their peace, though continued to track him.
The gunners on the ship think they're clever, Falcon thought. It was a good tactic, the missiles were more meant to get him to fly recklessly, to force him into a place where the ensuing cannon barrages would be too thick for even him to avoid.
He maintained his course, picturing in his mind what would happen if he hit the hull at Mach 3.4 and climbing.
The first of the missiles was about one mile out now, the rest of the pack trailing perhaps only dozens of feet behind it, spreading out much like a net. Less than a second away at these speeds.
His whole frame shook as verniers forced him towards the lake far below, losing hundreds of feet of altitude, eyes locked onto the missiles now, seeking a path through.
They curved at him, the trajectory of the lead missile off by a dozen feet now, just passing him. He rolled, clawed for altitude, cutting through the swarm, feeling the heat of their own engines as he passed them by, the heat of their warheads detonating as their proximity sensors triggered their payloads milliseconds late behind him.
Tracers whipped past him now as the AA guns on the ship opened up, plasmic air bursts of flak filling the sky around the ship. He was coming at the bow from slightly below now, picking out his targets, raising his buster. Falcon's buster opened its focus port in two stages, his whole right arm expanding, reconfiguring itself into the shape of a barrel, his left hand providing stability as he made last second adjustments to his flight path, the weapon emitting a banshee-like wail that drowned out everything around him.
The last time he'd unlocked this particular function for use, he was still a member of the JSDF, he'd never had an opportunity to use it in anger against an enemy. Now, he'd been given good cause to do so. The Maverick airship was undoubtedly headed toward the city, towards his comrades, and the civilians they were charged with protecting.
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Vile found himself laughing again, impressed by the guts the Hunter was showing in the face of danger.Former military, I can almost smell it. Easy to tell, really. The rapid, jerking motions of his eyes as they tracked new threats, how calculated his movements were. He'd have made a hell of a Maverick, which was why it was a shame he had to die. Despite evading the first missile barrage, both Vile and the Hunter knew that the airspace around the Rubicon was a carefully laid out killzone. It was only a matter of time.
The dorsal guns of the ship no longer had a good line of sight on the Hunter, but the heaviest firepower on the Rubicon was mounted ventrally. That much had to be obvious. Suicide run? He's coming in awful fast-
The Hunter seemed to glow, in particular, his wings, spread open wide, resembling more the wings of a fixed wing craft than that of any bird he was modeled after. Vile watched as the buster was leveled at the Rubicon, which was when Vile realized exactly what sort of threat he was facing now.
Those aren't just wings, you sonofa-
A solid, golden ray of light ripped free from the weapon, almost as wide as Falcon was tall, the sheer force of the shot halting his forward flight in the air, then pushing him backwards, his verniers unable to completely stabilize him, barely able to assist him with guiding the beam shot along the hull of the airship. For three seconds, he was unable to see anything directly ahead of him, despite the best attempts of his eyes to adjust for the light, relying entirely on the HUD to outline his target.
The beam thinned out, fading away with seemingly a whimper, the loud hiss of heated metal meeting metal as his arm and buster collapsed back to their original shape and size. Losing altitude, the sound of cannon fire and rushing air filling his ears, Falcon flapped his wings once, then steered into the dive towards the water, his vision beginning to return. Craning his head around, he took in the damage he'd inflicted on the ship, and would have frowned more if his face allowed it.
He'd burned away a number of turrets, tearing a still glowing scar across the port-side hull of the craft, and perhaps if there'd been two or three of him, they might have breached the hull, hit something really vital, a reactor or two, or perhaps the anti-gravity control system core. It'd been worth a shot to go all out right away, but the results hardly justified for the risk involved.
Alert! Solar Plasmic Wave Cannon offline, new charge building, estimated time until Mark 17 Buster system is ready for use: Five minutes.
Damn damn damn! All that, for a scratch!
For five minutes, he couldn't even fire basic, low level plasma bursts while the system recovered. For five minutes, all he had left at his disposal were the beam talons on his feet, and raw brute strength, neither of which stood much of a chance against that sort of armor. It'd take longer before he could fire a shot of that strength, and there was no way he could. An awful design flaw to deal with if there ever was one, and Falcon wondered if there was truth to the rumor that the Japanese manufacturers of his type of reploid had deliberately built in such a flaw out of some long standing superstition that combat mecha needed to have some sort of defect.
But the Mavericks don't know that. Let's see how long it takes for them to call my bluff.
The HUD blared another missile launch warning. If he didn't get closer to his target, he wouldn't be able to use what he had left, and if his luck kept up, he'd be dead before his Solar Cannon was ready to fire once more. He pulled back up, the ship filling his vision as he closed in once more, weaving between threats as best he could, looking for a way on board.
The on-board AI for the Rubicon was unable to properly identify what had just rocked the ship, but it seemed confident enough to project that it could sustain further attacks of that magnitude. What Vile needed to know was whether or not the Hunter could pull off something like that any time soon. It had been enough to give Vile a moment's pause. He could have very well seen months of planning, years of secretly hoarded resources, all coming to an end in the form of that beam shot.
"Oh, you are good. Not as good as Storm Eagle was, but you've got talent, and a big stick." Vile whistled in praise as the Hunter, now totally defensive, managed to evade another missile swarm, only to be clipped by a burst of plasma fire in one of his wings. He poured on more power to his thrusters to break away from that particular turret' sights, sustaining several more hits across his body before he was clear. Undaunted, the Hunter continued his desperate charge, still intent on closing range with the ship.
"That's all you've got left, isn't it?" Vile frowned. "You had your silver bullet, now you've got nothing. I'm willing to bet those fancy wings of yours you've been trying so hard to protect are solar collectors. Larger than that average reploid's...boosted your plasma buster with that surplus I'll wager. Where'd they pick up a one trick pony like you? They have got to be desperate." Vile tapped out a series of commands on one of the interfaces on board the Goliath.
"Lord Vile, you have terminated the broadcast." Rubicon stated, confusion evident within the voice of the AI.
"Oh yes I did. I want them to come. I wanna talk to this guy. I gotta. I gotta."
Falcon felt confusion and relief when the incoming fire abruptly stopped when it did, giving him a chance to give his systems a needed reprieve. The airship's main engines flaring up to full power as it picked up speed, its course clearly aimed towards Seogwipo now. More surprising was the sudden halt to the electronic interference that had blanketed Jeju-do before. A sudden rush of information from the island fell upon his mind, outlining the bad news: The Maverick Hunters were currently engaged with rogue military mechaniloids at NAS Gangjeong, the Net compromised with a virus that had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
The stop to the jamming confused Falcon. The Mavericks had given themselves the opportunity to blast a particularly large hole in one of the more important defensive networks in Asia, and do it without allowing the Hunters the opportunity to bring in heavier reinforcements. Until now. They'd just cost themselves the element of surprise. Already he was transmitting everything he could from his data pods to every Hunter on Jeju-do, to the people back at HQ, who were doubtlessly wondering what it was that had taken the whole island off the Network.
"Hey Hunter!" Vile's voice boomed over a series of loudspeakers positioned all over the vessel. "You must be new, I can't seem to find your data on any of the security nets I've got access to. What are you, fresh off the farm?"
The realization of whom he was dealing with challenged Falcon's self control. The Hunters had yet to properly identify the Mavericks who'd attacked HQ, but there was no question about who'd lead the massacre in New Tokyo. Sitting safe and sound within meters of armored plating, surrounded by enough firepower to threaten the whole island, right in front of Falcon, there lay the bastard himself.
And there was damned little Falcon could do about him. For now.
"No remarks? No name? Rank? Anything? Come on, gimme something." The Maverick snickered. "You ain't gonna be giving out any more of those Saturday Night Specials of yours any time soon, I can guarantee that."
Well then, bluff called a lot sooner than I hoped for, Falcon thought. Ignoring the taunts, he opened a direct line to HQ.
"If you ain't talkin', then I'll stop talkin' too, and go back ta shootin' you full of holes! Kisses from heaven, little bird!"
From the six Vertical Launch Systems he'd been able to pick out on the ship, over a hundred micro-missiles burst from their racks, twisting through the sky in serpentine fashion towards him. In response, he cut the maneuvering restrictions of his systems, and went ballistic. On the lower right corner of his HUD blinked the most important numbers in the world to him at that moment:
Weapon System Recovery Estimate: 03:23. Time until data transmission complete: 0:15
"HQ, this is Solar Falcon. Have met with enemy over Mount Hallasan. It's Vile. Mavericks are based within the-"
"You're no fun at all!" Vile said, almost pouting, watching the Hunter scramble for his life on his displays.
"Lord Vile-"
"Say that again, Rubicon."
"Lord Vile." The AI paused, noting that Vile, within his ride armor, seemed to relax as the title was recited. "I have detected data transmissions from the Maverick Hunter. Shall I put them on the monitor?"
"Leave it be, Ruby. It's all part of the plan. I already have a pretty good idea what's being said."
"My own analysis estimates Hunter reinforcements within the hour, Lord Vile. I could scramble communications once more-"
"Bring 'em on." He waved dismissively. "Set a course for Gangjeong. We'll commence the combat drop over the city, also as planned." He sounded distracted, almost transfixed by the effort put out by the Hunter to survive. He was almost disappointed to see the missiles finally close in, a mass of explosions filling the air where he'd been, a bright flash. His body fell lifelessly to the waters below.
"I have lost contact with hostile," Rubicon reported. "No additional threats detected."
MHHQ
Things were starting to feel out of control, a state Signas had hoped to avoid. He'd called all of his Commanders to the command center, and ordered the bulk of his forces to remain on standby to deploy to the crisis zone if necessary, if he was allowed to even make that call. Another decision he immediately regretted having to do, a lengthy standby would only fray nerves even further. He needed them all prepared however. If this was a serious resurgence by Sigma's forces, or if it was the military Mavericks, he wanted to crush either possibility decisively.
Of course, the ability to do so, while well within the capabilities of the Hunters and Vanguard, were waiting for the permission of the Korean government to be allowed to save its citizens with the long overdue haste and force that should have been allowed in the first place.
"Commander Signas!" Beryl cried out excitedly. "We've restablished network connections with Jeju-do! Receiving a data transmission from Solar Falcon."
"On the main screen." Signas ordered, placing a GDC representative on hold, much to their chagrin.
What they saw had been transmitted from Falcon's eyes, difficult to follow for those unfamiliar with air combat. The reploid had engaged in some complex maneuvers during the recording, occasionally contrails from missiles and tracers from cannon fire visible as the earth and the sky spiraled in the view. His voice came through the speakers, sounding strained.
"HQ, this is Solar Falcon. Have met with enemy over Mount Hallasan. It's Vile. Mavericks are based within the-"
The sound cut out as the world was blanketed with flames, followed by static. The name Falcon uttered was enough to send a ripple of gasps throughout the room.
"Is there anything more?" Signas asked.
"Everything else is in the data transmission, it'll take time to sift through everything." Beryl shook her head sadly. "I can't...I can't raise him on the Net."
"He wanted us to see this, in particular." Signas frowned. "Reverse, and hold at thirteen, enhance."
Frozen in time, a dark blur recorded amidst the combat became more and more defined, until finally, the inverted shape of what appeared to be a reconstructed Death Rogumer, there for all in the control room to see.
"I need immediate contact with all the Hunters on Jeju-do. Work as quickly as you can, Beryl, use my security override if necessary."
On the main display, a comms request from New York MHHQ blinked at Signas. He ignored it, for now.
Naval Air Station Gangjeong
12:18 PM
Major-General Bae Myung was familiar with combat, having served on several GDC peacekeeping missions in Africa throughout the 2020's before his promotion to Major-General. His first real taste of war had come in 2119, a younger officer leading soldiers for the first time against Maverick hold outs on Cornus Island, and from there his career had rocketed him towards the top. He wore scars of some sort from almost every combat op he'd ever participated in, the result of his unwillingness to simply delegate and watch from afar, when it came to his people, humans at any rate. He did not like the idea of combat reploids on the island his command was assigned to defend, and hoped their presence would not trigger anything serious. When the first blasts rocked his base, he cursed himself for having held onto such a naive hope in the first place.
He knew he was relatively safe within the command bunker beneath the ATC tower, but it meant that his own information about what exactly was happening was very limited. According to the two aides escorting him to the control room, the whole base was under some sort of aerial assault. Reports that mechaniloids were going berserk and opening fire on friendly forces could not be confirmed, as the entire communications net was down, and most external surveillance systems had also been compromised. The bunker itself had not been breached, but considering the near constant shaking all around him, he was expecting it any moment.
And then, as quickly as the jamming had begun, it had stopped, as though the enemy knew decisive damage had been done. The Korean regulars were fighting as best they could, but those opening minutes without the Network has all but decided the course of the battle.
"They're going to want someone to take responsibility for this," Myung said, more to himself than to his aide. "They will say we didn't do enough to prevent this. There is never enough."
A soldier standing guard stoically at the entrance saluted him as he marched into the control center. The base commander, a colonel, was already there, along with a dozen technicians already at their stations, trying to re-establish communications after the jamming subsided. With the base infrastructure having sustained so much damage, it was slow going at best.
"How bad is it?" Those who served with Myung for any length of time knew that the man dispensed with any formalities during times of crisis, finding them obstructive at best. No amount of 'sirs' would fix anything except an ego or two, and this was not the time to worry about one of those.
"The attack started from inside the Mechaniloid storage bays," the colonel began. "Every single Mitsubatchi ripped out of their restraints, or at least tried to. Security forces have downed a number of the Maverick units, but from what little we've been able to discern, we're being overwhelmed. The only good news is that we were ninety percent complete with the strip down of their optional armaments, but that still leaves them with their standard integrated weapon systems."
Convenient we have Maverick Hunters on the island right now, Myung thought. "Have we been able to establish any form of contact with the mainland? With any friendly GDC forces? The Hunters?"
"Nothing we can confirm at this time-" The command center rocked again, with greater force than anything Myung had felt on the way there. He could even smell the faint scent of burned out electronics in the air as the lights flickered. "Sir, I highly recommend you make arrangements to get off of this base. I don't need a fully operational network to know we're losing this battle."
The Major-General was about to sharply object when one of techs practically ran up to the officers, nearly breathless. "Sirs! Partial communication from the surface! One of the Maverick Hunters has engaged the enemy!"
Zero was no stranger to the capabilities of a fully loaded Mitsubatchi. He remembered quite clearly dealing with them on the elevated freeways of New Tokyo on December 7th, and many years before that, the earliest variants of the machines on June 4th, 2118. Whatever their original purpose had been in the world, he would never quite see them as anything other than one of the iconic symbols of Maverick terror. As he approached NAS Gangjeong, he could feel his whole body tense in anticipation for the same horrors of his previous encounters with the machines, while feeling some sense of relief that he could see the human victims this time had not been entirely defenseless, fighting back with what weapons they could gather and operate. These units were nowhere nearly as coordinated as those he'd fought in New Tokyo, but their sheer numbers were enough to make up for that deficiency.
His own arrival had been met with the stares of shock and admiration as he blazed past the embattled human forces, dash thrusters alight. Machine or not, Zero was an icon, a real life hero in a world that had begun to doubt they could truly exist once the Maverick Uprisings had begun in earnest. Simply being there was enough to elicit cheers from the embattled Koreans.
Let's give 'em a real show.
Impressively enough, whatever it was that had afflicted the mechaniloids had not done away with their self preservation protocols within their AI. They rarely ventured below a thousand feet, avoided staying in one place, unless they needed to ensure their cannon fire would rain accurately on hostile positions below. There weren't enough AA guns on the base to fight off so many targets effectively, and the rogue signal Zero had blocked out had made ineffective the sub-surface SAM sites that ran along the base perimeter.
He brought up his warp menu.
Caution! Warp Network currently unavailable!
Override safety protocols, initiate manual targeting.
He'd had his eye on one of the units the moment he'd broken through the base perimeter, it was straying lower than the others, taking risks the others weren't. It swiveled to face him, recognizing the threat he presented, more than a dozen fellow machines marking him as soon as he'd come into range, designating this particular Blader as the closest to deal with him. To Zero, the world slowed to a crawl, and even at the distance he was from the Bee Blader, he could easily make out all six barrels of its chin mounted gun, beginning to spin up, ready to engage the Hunter. The plasma cannon mounted on the 'abdomen' of the craft curled forward, green energies beginning to roil and burn at the tip of the emitter.
Zero vanished in a bolt of red light.
The Mitsubatchi seemed to pause in mid air, seemingly confused by the disappearance of the target. It switched to thermal scanning, only finding traces of where Zero had been, where his dash thrusters had left a trail of hot spots on the concrete leading to where his form simply scattered in every direction at once, a rapidly fading cloud that was warmer than the surrounding atmosphere. Other Mitsubatchi sent their own images of the surrounding area to this unit, all concurring that for all intents and purposes, the Hunter had never been there in the first place.
Its proximity sensors suddenly went berserk a less than a second after Zero had vanished, indicators on the mechaniloid's HUD saying that something had just landed on the back of the unit. This was followed by a hull breech alert, the Blader lurching violently to the left as one of the ammunition reservoirs for the chain cannon cooked off, the craft suddenly losing complete control, spinning wildly, diving towards the earth below. It's own dorsal cameras were gone, and so it could not determine what the cause of the catastrophic damage it had sustained on its own. Another unit that wasn't occupied with ground targets transmitted a helpful video feed, revealing that the Hunter it had seen moments before was now tearing a plasma saber through its fuselage, leaping away towards the other Blader providing the video.
Then it crashed heavily into the ground, and could perceive nothing more.
Warp Generator offline, estimated cooldown, two minutes sixteen seconds.
That's one, Zero thought, as he closed in on a new target, aiming to bury his beam saber directly in the 'eyes' of the mechaniloid. He landed on this Mitsubatchi with such force he practically caved in its 'head', beam saber plunging deep into what he assumed was the 'brain' of the craft, feeling it stagger in mid-air. Vaulting himself up onto the back of the machine, he sprinted along its length, dragging the saber through its hull effortlessly, a battle cry escaping his lips, feeling the long familiar battle-lust enveloping him once more.
Two down.
Already he was tracking a third target, seeing it come from his right on the extreme periphery of his vision, more importantly he could hear its chain gun already firing, ripping into its stricken comrade, debris flying all around the Hunter. Launching himself off his second victim like a rocket, he watched as the third Blader pulled itself away rapidly, trying to compensate it its aim so that Zero would fly through a curtain of bullets.
Modern Mitsubatchi used a combination of traditional thrust vectoring, combined with six 'spokes' underneath the units that were often mistaken for legs. They were the anti-gravity field generators, and when their fields oscillated properly, they helped artificially reduce the operational weight of a Blader to a mere thirty percent of normal. By shifting the field emitters, a modern Blader could perform sudden evasion tactics that the old rotor-driven models would have dreamed of, if dreaming was within their list of capabilities. Sudden stops, wild changes in altitude, dangerous evasive techniques while still keeping the majority of its arsenal pointed directly at hostiles. More than ever, they could mimic the insect from which they derived their name.
Despite all that, it wasn't nearly good enough. Zero Omega, built nearly half a century before the machine he bore down upon now, was more than it could ever hope to handle alone.
Zero brought Sigma's saber down into its forehead with both hands, then climbed onto its back, replacing the saber onto a charging sheathe. He formed both hands into busters, taking note of his system's protests of the strain he was placing on himself. With his right 'hand' he punched into the 'thorax' of craft, and released his first charged plasma bolt, the cerulean plasma spike eating its way through reinforced armor and vital componentry with equal ease, burying itself into the ground far below. The machine was literally coming apart at his feet as he leapt free of it, aiming for what remained of the air traffic control tower. Reverting his left buster back into a proper hand, fingers digging into the reinforced concrete walls of the tower, slowing his descent while he took the time to scout for more victims.
It'd taken him maybe fifteen seconds to kill three Mitsubatchi.
Under normal circumstances, this would have been impressive. The number that remained in the air kept him somewhat humble.
The Bladers were obviously very aware of the sort of danger Zero presented. He watched as a good number of them turned their attention away from the disorganized human resistance, fanning out before him and he assumed behind him. With his own sensors jammed, he was having to rely on his ability to see and hear in order to place targets on his internal map, but he could see a rudimentary tactical intelligence to their movements, staying outside of his known jumping distance.
He was far from helpless, firing his second charged buster at another machine almost dismissively, nailing it dead center in the head before it could react, watching it fall out of the sky half slagged and trailing flames.
Four.
The counter-fire from the other craft was vicious, but seconds late as he pulled himself free from the wall, tumbling forward and pushing himself towards the ground, cannon and plasma fire ripping apart the tower just behind him. Just before his hit the surface, he burst away, parallel to the ground, firing off another plasma bolt, noting that this time it had missed his target by a healthy margin.
They're adapting.
The tower exploded behind him, debris raining around him as he moved, his diagnostics display screaming various warnings of strain being placed on his legs as they pumped against the ground, sprinting as fast as he could manage. All he cared about was the countdown on his warp generator.
In front of him, he saw another mechaniloid swoop in low, scraping the tarmac as it did and firing the whole time. The first shots passed so close he could feel their heat against the synthflesh of his face as he twisted his whole body to the right, momentarily losing balance. Another burst from his dash system sent him streaking out of the line of fire at an odd angle, into what was left of a hangar. Just before losing sight of the Blader, he fired quick burst of plasma fire, scoring a few hits, but no vitals. It did get the mechaniloid to break contact.
Zero rolled hard several times before righting himself, charging straight at the nearest intact wall, gathering another plasma charge. Above the hangar, he could hear more Bladers swooping overhead, likely tracking him via thermal vision.
Gripping one of his Rakuhouha plasmic charges he kept at his waist, he made a mental note how many he had left. Then he fired a charged buster shot at the wall just as he reached it.
The blast carved open a path for Zero through the hangar wall, catching an unlucky Blader as it dove down to try and intercept the Hunter, just along its belly, ripping the craft wide open and lighting off its fuel and ammunition stores simultaneously. Tracers from its chain-gun spewed in every direction as the ruined machine collapsed in a burning, twisted heap less than thirty feet ahead of him. To his left and right were two more Bladers, already swiveling to avoid hitting eachother with friendly fire, locking Zero firmly in their sights.
Leaping over the wreckage in front of him, he spun in mid-air, throwing the Rakuhouha like a fastball at one of the Bladers, bringing up his buster and firing wildly at the charge.
The effect was immediate and impressive, raw plasma pouring out of the center of the ensuing detonation in waves, engulfing both craft and the rest of the wall he'd blasted through.
Five, six, seven...
Number eight was distinctly different from the others he'd taken out thus far, having a pair of optional anti-tank missile pods still mounted on its ventral mounts. The techs at Gangjeong had likely been interrupted when the signal broadcast started the Maverick rampage.
It took up a firing position just over eight hundred feet above and in front of Zero as he came back down from his leap, breaking back into a sprint the moment his feet touched the ground.
Essentially point blank for a missile launch.
A pair of bright flashes from the pods caught his attention, less than a second delay between each shot, contrails arcing towards him, almost in line with one another.
Zero reached back for the beam saber, studying the lead missile with a sort of grim curiosity as it bored in. He could make out the targeting camera at the tip of the warhead, see the the fin stabilizers adjust themselves to better guide the weapon towards him. Anti-tank missiles of this kind did not detonate via a proximity trigger. If he allowed them to, they would try to spear him, detonating milliseconds later, assuming his body was the armored plating to a ride armor or tank. His body was made of stern stuff, but not nearly enough to resist that sort of firepower.
It almost surprised Zero how little he cared that he was staring death in the face as he brought the beam saber down in a vertical arc.
The first missile was split neatly down the center, halves passing him on either side-
He spun to the right, lashing out at the second warhead, watched the green blade burn through the projectile a foot behind the tip, kept spinning, bringing his buster to bear on the Mitsubatchi, fully charged and singing its high pitched whine once more, and wondered if the mechaniloid could feel surprise.
Eight.
And despite himself, Zero felt a twisted grin spread across his face.
He was enjoying this.
He knew why he was here, he know the gravity of the situation. In the back of his mind, he knew how badly stacked against him the odds were. If NAS Gangjeong fell, it would be a serious blow to the Korean military. Tensions between Russia and China would only increase, with the Chinese likely deploying more its own forces to the shared border in an effort to make up for the lack of support the Koreans could not provide with Gangjeong's forces decimated. Russia would likely respond in kind. He knew all of this, understood the consequences of the action here today, but at the forefront of his mind, he enjoyed watching the mechaniloid fly apart as the charged plasma shot chewed through it.
He was enjoying crushing his enemy without pity, imagining the emotionless Mitsubatchi screaming in fear, begging for mercy.
He almost hoped his allies arrived late, to leave more targets for him.
This part of Zero,The Demon, long suppressed, had arrived in Gangjeong as its savior.
Seogwipo
12:23
Erebus and Kindle had started making their way back towards the naval base as soon as they'd seen the fighting begin, their imposing size and speed enough to clear the walk ways enough for them to pass through. There was a great deal of confusion among the civilians they passed, more than a fair share of terror displayed as the two reploids went on their way. Combat machine like them were something often relegated to the news reels from somewhere else in the world. Their presence, combined with the distant thunder of combat being waged at the military base, was enough to unsettle most of the Koreans the pair wove their way past.
"Captain, shouldn't we meet up with the others at the designated rendezvous point?" Originally, they'd been headed in that direction, where two Hunter sharp shooters had been posted to provide general overwatch of as much of Seogwipo as ground units could manage short of being posted on an aerial platform of some sort. When the sounds of fighting had started, the Captain abruptly changed their course to the direction of the combat.
"Don't you think it's odd that it came and went as quickly as it did?" Erebus snapped. "You don't really think the Hunters are going to wait around while we all get together for our pow-wow? I planned for this type of scenario, 'swhy we're in pairs like this. I'm almost certain the Hunters will be moving in on Gangjeong to try and pin down our Mavericks there, assuming we've got actual Mavericks and not just mechaniloid decoys." Enough space opened up before The Captain, and his dash thrusters flared twice as he leaned forward into the air, traveling less than an inch off the ground at almost a hundred miles an hour. The thrusters lit up once more as he pushed off the ground hard, headed for a low rooftop. Kindle matched him move for move, barely. They came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the low building, trying to get a better feel for the sort of party they wanted to crash.
"I think one of us is already there." Kindle observed, pointing towards a particular blue streak of flame, almost indistinct among the smoke, flame, and weapons fire in the distance. It zipped about, exchanging what appeared to be heavy plasma fire with a number of mechaniloids, dancing between return fire barrages. They were miles away, but they still had access to their own devices for visual magnification, and both reploids swore they saw something crimson leading the azure flames-
"That's Zero." The Captain said, bolting from the rooftop towards another, Kindle remaining close by. He instinctively formed a buster out of his right hand, already marking a number of the now identified as Bee Bladers who were straying away from Gangjeong, seemingly preparing to turn their guns onto the outskirts of Seogwipo. They were still quite some distance and time away from being able to lend a hand, but he was anxious to get in the fight.
Kindle shared his Captain's enthusiasm, but not without some rerservation. He actually was surprised with the amount of aggression he was seeing within Erebus, wondering if somehow they'd traded places during the warp to Jeju-do. " The warp net'll be back up soonish, I bet. Shouldn't we wait for some back up?"
"We ARE the back up, Kindle." Erebus said, the statement punctuated by their twin landing on the next rooftop. He was gone in another flash of dash thruster flame, headed back down towards street level. Kindle found himself struggling with the idea it was possible that he, a feraloid built for speed and strength, was struggling to keep up with another reploid who for all appearances wasn't.
Adam and Bernard had shed their civilian guise the moment their connection to the various nets they frequently accessed had been cut off by their self-defense programs, running as fast as their bodies allowed without wholly disrupting the near-perfect invisibility their therm-optical cloaks granted them. It meant they could not travel via rooftop, and it meant that they had to be at the absolute peak of their game when it came to maneuvering their bodies through human and reploid foot traffic, but this was a game they'd played before, and like the rest of their Maverick kin, they were exceptionally skilled at it. What was more of a concern to them now was the sudden clearing of the airwaves, at least according to their own sensors. Despite the supposed safety, the two had gone 'dark', in the event this was some way to convince them to lower their defenses.
Before the attack had begun, Nike had confirmed the existence of additional hostiles they had to be concerned with, but they hadn't had the time to pinpoint all of them before things got moving. The situation was not ideal, and they had to assume the enemy was also on the move. Their advantage was that they still commanded the element of surprise, they still determined where and when they could strike from. Even Vile, who likely had pieced together that his working relationship with The Few had ended, would not be able to predict exactly where and when he'd be attacked. The two assassins had the advantage, and they intended to exploit it.
Adam, eleven o'clock, rooftops! You see that?
It was enough of a shock to almost cause Adam to bowl over an older woman. Last second shifting of his full body weight allowed him to dance just around the human, his barely visible left hand steadying her before she could lose her own balance for the briefest of moments. The pair ducked into a nearby alley to confirm whom they'd seen, as well as to calm themselves.
Bernard dropped his stealth cloak first, allowing the system a chance to recharge. "What the hell is he doing here? We last saw him back in-" He shook his head, almost unwilling to believe he'd seen that particular reploid.
"Los Angeles." Adam finished for his friend. He winced, as though in physical pain from the ideas rushing through his mind. "Well, here he is. Complicates things. He's obviously working with the Hunters, some sort of joint op." Adam cocked his head, hearing something of interest. "Troop transports, they sound heavy, I can hear them telling civilian traffic to clear out of their way. We'll use them to get to the base while evading potential detection."
"Four's headed that way too." Bernard said quietly. "Of all the people to compromise us, damnit!"
"We don't know that he has," Adam snapped.
"We don't know that he hasn't!"
There really was no other explanation for him to be there. Despite efforts to avoid any tactics that could be traced back to them, Four was the sort of observer who could pick up on even the slightest of clues. It would have been a fatal miscalculation to think that the Hunters would be unable to piece together the little evidence there was about the existence of The Few with the attacks on their headquarters, particularly with Four still alive and well in the world. He was the only reploid to have served with the 2nd RSF and later choose to leave the program before the stirrings of rebellion had firmly taken hold within the unit. He'd been regarded as an excellent leader in the field, and as a grave loss when he'd left the military life behind. He'd had good reasons to do so. If he'd remained in the unit, he could have stopped Apollo's Rebellion before it ever began.
And yet he hadn't.
The idea that they could potentially face him again in combat unnerved the two Mavericks. Memories flooded their minds, of service in Africa at his side, being the heroes the innocent needed, heroes the world showed the utmost reluctance to provide. They could remember with perfect clarity seeing Four leading Hunters and MSWAT in a desperate charge to free hostages they still believed the 2nd RSF held at some dusty backlot theme park in Los Angeles. What had motivated him to act then? What else brought him to Jeju-do, if not specifically to thwart them here and now?
He was still a former commanding officer. Still a friend, even if he didn't see that himself. This was something that could not be erased from their minds without effort they were unwilling to expend.
What do we do? Adam asked to himself. What does Nike want us to do about him?
They stood in silence for a full minute, their eyes watching for signs that civilians had spotted them in the darkened and cramped alley.
"Will you order me to engage him?" Bernard asked.
"Not if I can help it," Adam smiled thinly. "I'd like it if we could pretend we never saw him." He pointed at their suitcases. "I'm putting 'er together, cover me."
"Fair enough."
They'd only brought over one magrifle for the job in their paired suitcases, easier to conceal while they waited for the targets to make their appearances. It would be more than enough. Adam popped open both cases, rapidly assembling the weapon while Bernard kept up security, ensuring no curious civilian or Hunter stumbled upon them. Within a half-minute, the rifle was assembled, loaded, round chambered. No scope was attached, the highly reflective surfaces of the lenses tended to give away positions, even through their shrouds.
Their therm-optics made barely audible hisses as they became ghosts once more, knifing through the sidewalk filled with panicked humans, making their way towards the transports going down the center of the road. Their agreement gave them small comfort, in the face of the job lying ahead.
Other Hunters and Vanguard members had also seen the battle unfolding. Guernica and Lao, stationed at the rendezvous for overwatch, quickly agreed that waiting around in an orderly fashion was not an option. Hastily, they left a brief message on the roof of the designated building in the form of a repeating message capsule that could only be accessed by other Hunters or Vanguard reploids, telling everyone to immediately race towards the beleaguered base, that human forces, that their commander, were all waiting for help.
Most of the reploid pairs would never see the message, all eager to help out as quickly as possible, assuming everyone else was probably on the way.
The Hunter snipers had chosen to avoid engaging targets over Gangjeongg at the maximum range of their mag-rifles. While they could have easily hit their targets from well outside of the base perimeter, for some reason the rampaging mechaniloids were focused on the military facilities, and the sharpshooters wanted to try and keep it that way. It was likely that if the Bladers detected threats within the city, they would find reason to be as indiscriminate to the civilian populace as they were being with military targets. Gangjeongg' surface was quickly becoming a gnarled ruin of smoke, flame, and rubble, with most standing structures damaged to some extent, if not outright destroyed. From their position next to a gate guard house at the northern base entrance, they could pick out hundreds of craters across the whole base of varying size, some caused by ordinance, others by fallen Bladers. The counter fire from the Koreans had slackened to the point where it was no longer even marginally effective, and Zero was nowhere to be found in the chaos, as far as they were able to tell from the base perimeter.
"Guer, I'm getting a priority Autistic Mode override and standby request." Lao's eyes widened. "Confirming. It's HQ, the network flood must have ended or have been circumvented!"
Opening a line to HQ, Guernica smiled as Beryl's face appeared on his internal comms display, dropping into his long practiced southern accent. "Well, 'llo there sunshine. Missed us?"
"Not the time, Guernica." She blushed. "Thank God you're- you've all managed to remain safe. Zero's not responding to my communications but-" A hand rested on her shoulder, and she jumped in her seat, turning her head and following the arm it was attatched to up to its owner. "C-Commander Signas will begin briefing you all."
"To all Hunters and Vanguard members on Jeju-do receiving this," Signas began,"I will keep this brief. Solar Falcon has confirmed a significant Maverick presence on Jeju-do originating from Mount Hallasan. The Mavericks are apparently in possession of a reconstructed Death Rogumer, Vile's presence on the ship has also been confirmed. The attack on Gangjeong in all likelihood was a feint, intended to draw you away from the civilian populace in the city. The Korean government has allowed the deployment of the 58th Unit into Seogwipo to account for the airship, with further reinforcements as they deem necessary, once the warp network is confirmed safe for use. I want Zero's team and Vanguard to concentrate on securing Gangjeong before reinforcing them. You have your orders. Godspeed, and good hunting."
"Well, that was short." Lao grunted. "Shall we ventilate some mechaniloids, good sir?" He hefted his rifle into a ready position.
"I'll be nice, and give you the first shot."
Lao shifted his weapon about, adjusting his aim on a Mitsubatchi, finger squeezing on the trigger...and then pulled his head away from the weapon, sighing. "The good commander just stole my kill."
"Huh, how 'bout that." Guernica whistled. "Don't even know why we were ever worried about him."
Crossing the Rubicon
Seogwipo airspace
The ship had been pouring on the coal ever since its short-lived battle with a lone Maverick Hunter had come to a decisive end, maintaining what counted for it as Nap-of-the-Earth flying, not to evade detection, but to intimidate, to frighten. Much of Mount Hallasan's lower altitude regions had been built over to accommodate the population explosion of the late 2090's, and the sight of the Rubicon as it broke through the clouds surrounding the peak could not be missed even if one tried to ignore it. As soon as 'targets' had become available, her weapons came back to life, an indiscriminate bombardment that was being transmitted live around the world by local news media, by those fortunate enough to have cameras and to not be in the way of the oncoming carrier.
There was no mistaking the insignia proudly emblazoned on the ship.
From inside his Goliath, Vile watched the various news feeds, in dozens of different languages, all saying more or less the same thing, but still amusing to him. Statements were being made, specialists, analysts were dissecting the precious little information they had. Politicians throughout the GDC and the non-aligned nations of the world made their politically correct statements, careful to avoid laying blame on reploids as a whole, citing that Maverick Terror was an unfortunate fact of life in today's world, and that the forces out to stop such things were already dealing calculated blows against the enemy.
For the moment, even the seemingly inevitable conflict between Russia and China had taken a back seat.
It was, to Vile, one of the greatest experiences he could have. He was the literal eye of the storm, had the whole world by the throat, forcing it to watch him change the rules of the game.
Because he could.
"Ruby, open the hangar doors, and activate the autonomous systems on the other machines."
"Lord Vile, we've yet to reach the planned drop zone. This will affect your ability to tactically distribute your firepower-"
"Don't care don't care don't care," Vile snarled as the main doors opened, giving him a view of the city below, at this height he could make out stopped traffic and crowds of fleeing civilians, and made sure the heavier ordinance on the Rubicon found its way to those 'trouble spots'. As much as he was enjoying all of this, streaks of light from the sky had his undivided attention. He remembered when was once a part of a light show like that. Now, they were coming for him, and his body shuddered with excitement.
"Lord Vile, I have confirmed the 58th Maverick Hunter Unit has been deployed to Jeju-do-"
"And here come the big damn heroes." Vile sang. "Fewer than I would have liked, and not the 17th, that's a real let down. I'm dropping in now, do not fire on them. Concentrate on anything else but them, maintain your course to Gangjeong at any cost. I want these ones myself."
"Yes, Lord Vile."
"Come on, come on, you worthless piles of scrap," he shouted as he and the rest of his supporting Ride Armors flung themselves off the Rubicon in groups of five. "Show some Hell to me!"
MHHQ New Tokyo
"Ignoring my calls, Signas?"
"Commander X. I apologize for the delay in answering you." Signas looked as frustrated as he felt, a rare sight indeed. It was unlike him to show signs of strain. He almost welcomed X's face on the monitor after the string of human bureaucrats he'd had to smooth things over with, but dreaded the coming argument. "The roadblocks placed before us makes our work more difficult to accomplish."
"Understandable sir. I've been following the news." He grinned wryly. "Sigma doesn't seem to believe in subtlety any more."
"As have I." Signas hesitated before continuing. "We're responding to the cause as we speak. Vile's been confirmed by a Hunter attached to Zero's unit."
"And he's got much heavier support than we could have expected, with that carrier." X nodded. "I will deploy the 17th and the 21st units immediately in support-" X stood from his seat, as though he were prepared to warp straight away to Jeju-do.
"You will do no such thing, commander." Signas interrupted. "Until we receive permission from the Korean government and the GDC, we are not allowed to deploy more Hunters to the combat zone."
The shocked expression on X's face might have passed as amusing to some if the circumstances were not so grave.
"What?" he managed to ask.
"For all intents and purposes, you are the regional commander of all Maverick Hunters of the Eastern United States. Your jurisdiction does not extend beyond that. If we were even allowed to make use your assistance, we would ask for it."
"What the hell are you even saying?" X was shouting now. "Jurisdiction? When has that ever mattered? People are dying-"
"It always has." Signas rumbled. "I assure you, I am well aware that people are dying. We lost contact with the scout who discovered Vile's involvement. I'm watching as the city is being bombarded by that carrier in real time. In the time I spent 'ignoring' you, I've been convincing the Korean Ministry of Defense to allow me the additional deployment of the 58th Unit. That they even acquiesced is something close to a miracle. The Japanese government is questioning our every move, questioning the 'dangers' of allowing an entire Hunter unit to deploy outside of the mainland. The GDC is demanding updates every ten minutes on the situation. The media hounds us for a statement on the 'Battle for Jeju-do'. And now I have you, trying to overstep your authority and mine, to play the hero you think the world expects you to be. Do you doubt the ability of a hand picked team lead by Zero, and that of Cirrus Tyber's Wild Cards? Is Vile such an opponent that only you can deal with him?"
X's expression hardened. "You know very little about me if you think this is about Vile-"
"Do not presume to question my grasp of the situation!" Signas snapped. "I have been monitoring the same networks as you, and some you do not have anywhere near the security clearance necessary to access. I know what is at stake. We are all doing the best we can with resources we are being allowed to use. I can demand and expect no less of my people!"
"You're doing the best you can with what politicians are letting you work with." X nodded. "I know we can do even more, and so do you. You just need to give us the word. You did once before, you told them all to go to hell. What changed, Signas?"
"Commander X, I have my orders, and you have yours." Signas almost whispered. "We are not expected to like the orders we receive, but we are expected to follow them. The decision is ultimately not mine or yours to make."
"It should be. We are better than this, Signas." X pleaded. "The Maverick Hunters exist to protect people. We're above race, gender, religion. We're above the politics."
"Not any more it seems." Signas replied. "But we should be."
"We agree on that." X severed the connection.
Signas sank deeper into his seat, massaging his temples, hoping to ease the tension he felt.
He noticed that all eyes in the command center were upon him now. There was a mixture of respect, sympathy, and even disgust within them, and he felt more of the latter towards himself now.
"Carry on. The 58th is in theater now, and will need our tactical support."
He opened a channel to the Korean Ministry of Defense for the third time that day. Within minutes, the discussion regarding Signas' 'troubling requests' had turned into an open shouting match.
Seogwipo, Jeju-do
12:35 PM
Cirrus Tyber had requested his unit to be warped into the city in the direct path of the carrier. It was clearly headed for the military installation, and he wanted to see if there was a way to remove it from the equation as early as possible. Everyone in Zero's element were engaged by the enemy to some degree, making communications with them sparse at best. It meant that if the carrier did get to Gangjeong, they were likely going to be in even greater danger.
Making things easier for them was the low altitude of the carrier. For some of his more agile teammates, they could easily make the jump from a building to it, assuming they didn't get knocked out of action by the numerous weapons lining its hull. Still, considering how fast it was moving, they had minutes at best to prepare an ambush the enemy already knew was coming.
"Talk to me, Beryl." Tyber had set up a loose defensive cordon based around an intersection the carrier would pass over, having made his team warp in directly to the positions he'd assigned via satellite imagery studied just prior to deployment.
"Bad news, Tyber. Looks like the carrier just unloaded its cargo. Ride Armors, can't get an accurate count on them, say about twenty plus. They're pulling ahead of the ship now, through the city streets, right at you."
Through the city streets, meaning through the people down there. There was no way to miss the trail of destruction headed towards his unit."Called us out, has he? You heard the lady, Five Eight. Diamond, Spade, I need you to stay up high. As soon as you get a chance, try to make your way on board that thing and direct it away from the city, by any means you see fit. The rest of you, get ground-side, assist local law enforcement in getting people as far away from this intersection as possible if you can." His own set of wings spread open, as though to punctuate his orders. "This intersection is now our intersection. They want to break though so badly, they'll have to do it in pieces."
He barely heard the acknowledgment of his team, his mind elsewhere.
Tyber was like most Hunters, he was more than equipped to give a stand up fight. The reason he'd earned a command were not his kill count, but rather the methods he employed to retire Mavericks.
He was nothing special outwardly. His speed did not match his size, but put a dash system on a reploid that was big and powerful enough, and even the largest tank of a Hunter could move with frightening speed.
He was incapable of extended flight, despite the wings of a mechanical dragon, but then, they were never meant for flight, or even intimidation.
Each wing broke apart into four 'bits', their own repulsor fields thrumming with power, dancing around behind him in a patternless fashion, a loud hiss of positioning thrusters accompanying each correction. Studying the area before him, he marked eight choice locations in the streets, and the drones sped off to their new assignments, trailing thick clouds of mist behind them as they did. When they got to their assignments, the clouds pooled and grew in place, soon obscuring much of the street and intersection. Just as well that they did. Now the carnage headed their way could only be made out as blobs of heat on an infrared scan, something more difficult to feel seething rage towards, emotions he generally tried to keep under control, but today was different.
Today was a rematch of sorts, and already the enemy was taunting them for having arrived late, making the innocent pay for every minute without assistance, and somehow, Cirrus knew that the leader of the oncoming armors had to be none other than Vile himself. There was something to the way it moved that made him believe it. Cirrus had not been in the Hunters when Vile had once been a part of that world, but he'd seen enough footage of the way he fought then, the way he'd fought in New Tokyo recently.
He marked other places for his team to move to, and they responded wordlessly, like a different set of extensions to his body. He could see what his Hunters saw, watching the few remaining civilians in this part of town be ushered away by police and a few of his men, as he'd directed.
Good.
He dropped down to the center of the street, to the center of the rapidly expanding cloud of fog that was beginning to reach the rooftops of smaller structures, pulling from his back an eight foot length of metal, a short plasma blade igniting at each tip.
Relaxing his body, filtering out the sounds all around him save for that of the oncoming ride armor, Cirrus Tyber waited.
Vile could see what appeared to be a fog bank rolling towards him as he advanced the Goliath troop ever closer to what was obviously an ambush, an unimpressive one to announce itself like that. In response, he directed some of his units to take to the rooftops, intent on hitting the Hunters from above, while he plowed through the center with the rest.
At the very least, this would provide some entertainment. Plowing through the emptying streets was one thing, getting his hands around someone that could really struggle, that was something else.
Weaving between abandoned vehicles, and leaning the RA forward to pick up even more speed, Vile lead the ground element into the fog, picking out a lone thermal signature standing at the center of it, far too large to be a person or a normal reploid. This is the guy, just waiting for me. When'd you folks grow sets this big? How do you even walk around like that?
He was isolated, all alone. Even if the other Hunters, whose heat sigs Vile could also make out, tried to intervene, at the speeds the RAs could move, they'd never be in time to save him from getting pasted. They'd had their last chance to intervene before he'd entered the fog.
He raised the right arm of the Goliath high, boosters firing at maximum output, the spiked gauntlet ready to come down on what would be the head of the Hunter.
And every instrument in the cockpit went dark, intense pain coursing through Vile as he could feel the machine lose balance, falling forward to the concrete, unable to move, unable to even scream in defiance. The only light in the machine now were from arcs of electrical current, traveling between him and the RA itself. The suit shook violently, and he could hear the armor tearing through the street. Another jolt, and he could feel the sensation of being airborne. There was the shattering of glass, the shriek of stressed metal, the rapid pinging of debris against the armor. Vile's world, already dark, went completely black and silent.
That's one down, Cirrus thought, unable to see it in detail through the fog, but through his thermal vision he knew that all of the ground-side RA's he could make out had rushed straight into the electrical barrier his 'bits' had erected, the lead unit crashing into what he assumed was a storefront. Others spun out of control, crashing into one another. One unit actually caught fire, the various lubricants around the joints of the mecha igniting from the electric shock, the resulting explosion parting much of the cloud the 'bits' had been generating, revealing over a dozen RAs in varying states of disarray.
"Commander, your twelve, up high!" one of his Hunters cried out, calling his attention to the other half of the attacking Maverick suits, far luckier than their companions, had bypassed the barrier field, at least three of the Goliaths practically on top of him.
"Take 'em!" Tyber shouted into the comm net.
The 58th descended on the Mavericks, and the melee began.
NAS Gangjeong
Erebus estimated he'd downed six Bladers personally, combining with Kindle for a total of thirteen kills. A good start, considering they'd arrived late for the show. The Vanguard-Hunter combination was working out better than he anticipated. What concerned him was how relatively easy the defense of Gangjeong was ultimately proving to be, an interesting thought to have considering he'd not gone unscathed himself. A 'near miss' a Blader's plasma cannon had ripped apart the armor protecting his upper body, actually burning through his synth-flesh and shell, revealing internal workings once classified by the US government. Had the shot come closer, his reactor housing would have been melted open, and the ensuing containment field failure would have rendered a burial unnecessary and impossible.
With reports that the 58th Unit was dealing with Mavericks deep within Seogwipo proper, and the carrier that had dropped them into the fray still being minutes away from being able to provide any support for the Maverick mechaniloids at the base, Erebus could not help but think there was supposed to have been more to this attack.
Maybe I'm over-thinking this. They did confirm Vile was behind it all.
Pulling his wrist mounted beam sabers out of his seventh victim, he rode the dying machine back down towards the ground, jumping clear just before impact. Landing roughly next to him, Kindle immediately made a sweep of their surroundings, then slid into a defensive stance in front of his Captain.
"You gonna get that looked at?" The feraloid gestured to Erebus' battered frame.
"Just unlucky, that's all. I'm still combat effective." A brief check of his internal operations energy told a more detailed story. At 38%, he was feeling sluggish, his vision occasionally hampered by static. Auto-repair systems sealed any vital fluid leaks, but he'd need to see technicians to handle the more serious structural damage. A stray shot to the wrong place would be enough, but he was not willing to withdraw just yet. Not while there were Mavericks he could take out his frustration upon.
So, where does Nike fit into all of this, if this is even her op anymore?
If the endgame is to provoke a war between Russia and China, it's all but guaranteed now. What more do you want? Where do you really fit into all of this?
"Skies are lookin' a lot more clear, Captain." Kindle relaxed somewhat. Around them, the battle was slowly beginning to wind down, the distant twin cracks of magrifle fire from the two Hunter snipers becoming less frequent as fewer Mitsubatchi remained in the air to shot at. They could see the Korean soldiers growing more bold as the odds grew more favorable. "There they go, put a reploid in charge, their balls grow large, yeah?"
"Maybe..." Erebus responded distractedly, his mind thinking of things other than the boldness of human combatants. "Maybe for them, the fighting will never stop, until they can fight no longer. Because it's what we were made to do."
"What was that?" Kindle took another concerned look at Erebus. "You sure your damage is just physical?"
"Maybe it isn't."
Ripping his hands out from within the fuselage of another Blader, Zero fell away from the machine just as the last of his Rakuhouha charges flared brightly from within the craft, his twenty-eighth kill. He made a quick, almost paranoid sweep of his immediate surroundings as landed back on solid ground, looking for another target, finding nothing within reach, his warp generator counting down its three minute cool-down period for the fourth time today. His HUD was constantly blinking internal temperature warnings at him, the result of near constant combat maneuvers well beyond what he typically demanded from himself.
He breathed heavily, trying to clear his mind of the red haze that had enveloped everything. He still shook with anticipation of a fresh target, a fresh kill, unhurt, ready to take on the rest of the island.
"Commander Zero?" The voice of Major-General Myung caught him by surprise, enough to interrupt the combat high.
"I'm here." Zero said hoarsely. "I'm here."
He could see the human's expression on the comm window, a mixture of fear and respect.
"We've received reports that you, and your forces, have all but routed the rogue Mitsubatchi over NAS Gangjeong."
"Yeah." Zero nodded. "We're making good progress, sir."
"You know of-"
"The air carrier, yes, I do. According to Signas, we deployed the 58th Unit to help deal with that situation. We'll take care of it."
"Of that, I have no doubt." The man paused. "Thank you, Commander Zero. It seems that I was mistaken in my assessment of your kind. We'll handle the mop-up over the base as best we can. Assist your comrades in the city." The line went dead.
The Crimson Hunter shook his head. Wonder how hard it was for him to say any of that. He opened a channel to his task force. "Alright people, form up on me! Quick pow-wow!"
The vitals for every active member of the team flashed across, save for those of Solar Falcon, who'd been out of contact for far too long, had never returned to Gangjeong to assist the team, nor had he made an appearance in support of the 58th. Nobody was saying much, but most of the Hunters were thinking the same grim thoughts: Early retirement, if he was lucky.
What a goddamned waste.
Sniping, as far as Adam was concerned, was not about personal skill.
It involved two things: Removing the factors that made the shot impossible, and then making the formerly impossible shot. Therefore, to Adam the art of sniping lay beyond the act of pulling the trigger on the weapon. Reploids like himself could ignore emotional factors more readily than humans, almost shut them away as one would flick the switch of a lamp. They could calculate for wind, terrain, and temperature factors that would affect the flight of a mag-round hundreds of times a second. He had no heartbeat to regulate, no need to control his breathing. He could lay motionless with his eyes open and focused on a given target for weeks at a time, if necessary. His HUD could analyze a target, and based on factors such as the positioning of a body or its limbs, the direction visible thrusters or flight surfaces were pointed, shifts within anti-gravity propulsion fields, he could accurately predict where a mark would attempt to move to, lead it, and put it into the ground with one clean trigger pull.
He needed no spotter, in the traditional sense. Bernard was not here to help him find his target, help him adjust the rifle for variables that could interfere with a shot. He was out among the enemy, cloaked, marking positions, specifically keeping an eye out for counter-snipers. The two he'd found were priority threats. The other Hunters were gathering around the target, but they were keeping their distance, keeping overwatch from a perimeter guard tower that had been lucky enough to not have taken serious damage. The moment Adam fired, the Hunters would know what direction it had come from. His cloak would keep him hidden in the visual and thermal spectrum, but that was the least of his concerns.
"Still no sign of Vile showing up?"
"That's a negative. His carrier is still headed for this base, but according to what I've picked up from Korean radio traffic, the Hunters deployed another unit to intercept it. I'm within optimal engagement range of my buster with threats Alpha and Bravo, charges ready, waiting for go."
"Confirmed." With that, Adam made another adjustment to his posture, zooming in further on his target.
There was no guarantee he could make the kill, and the uncertainty of the moment was rather thrilling. At first, Adam had been confused by Nike's insistence that Zero Omega, one hunter among many, needed to die moreso than the others. Vile was an obvious choice, he simply knew far too much, and held his own goals and ideals higher than those of The Few. Their brief alliance with him had been one of convenience, and with those needs met, there was no reason to leave the possibility that he could compromise everything.
Having watched Zero's unrestrained rampage against the Mitsubatchi, that had cleared away much of the mystery about the mission. He was a real life man-made monster, 'berserker' a term that did little justice to his capabilities, and through it all, he'd shown a remarkable ability to focus that, to be a leader to his Hunters. Their presence, outnumbered by the mechaniloids, had still proven to be better than just another equalizer to the battle. They'd practically won, and Zero had lead the charge. A cunning, savage, and charismatic killer, one that presented an extreme threat to the plan itself, if left unchecked.
Nike would rather risk two of her sharpshooters now, rather than watch the likes of Zero tear the plan apart just before the moment of truth. In that sense, despite Vile having more knowledge of what the Plan actually entailed, he was a secondary objective at best.
If Zero's like this, what does Maverick Hunter X hide behind that veneer of pacifism?
Zero stood at the center of his Hunters, 1006 meters away according to the HUD. They'd elected to make the attempt from a distance, to give Adam something resembling a running start in the event he failed, though he'd seen that Zero had no compunctions about short-ranged warps to chase down a target. Adam could do the same to escape, but he needed to ensure Zero went down first. That came before his own personal safety.
Zero was partially obscured by the largest of the ones they'd observed, the one they had seen traveling with Number Four. He was pacing back and forth, apparently giving a briefing about their next move, gesturing towards Seogwipo, towards the carrier looming in the distance.
"I need him to stop moving for a moment."
"Say when."
There was silence as Adam made one final adjustment.
"When."
Erebus was among the last few reploids to make their way to Zero, his appearance earning him a few low whistles from Hunter and Vanguard member alike. The Crimson Hunter, by comparison, was relatively unscathed, superficial burns and scuff marks to his armor being the worst of his worries. Erebus didn't feel much in the way of envy for him, he'd watched what Zero had become in the thick of the fighting. Watched the berserker, the Demon, at work.
Zero actually had saved his life during some of the heaviest fighting. Having been blindsided by a Mitsubatchi, the plasma shot that could have been fatal had left Erebus unable to fight back for the briefest of moments. In a battle between machines that could think for themselves and 'pure' artificial intelligence, that fraction of a second could have decided everything.
Zero had descended on the machine from above, trailing behind him the brief vestiges of a warp transfer, his iconic green Z-saber lashing out in a a flurry of motion difficult for even Erebus to follow. The Mitsubatchi trembled in place with each passing of the blade, and crumpled towards the ground, falling into several large, cleanly cut pieces.
It wasn't the speed of the kill that had caught Erebus off guard. He'd used his own plasma sabers to great effect on the mechaniloids.
It had been Zero's expression, a broad teeth-baring smile, oil that more resembled blood splashed across his face. The throaty, purring growl he'd uttered as he'd landed in front of Erebus, before tearing off towards his next victim without a word.
That wasn't the Zero that paced before him now, calmly explaining the next move. The Hunter snipers had stayed at their position, listening in through the Network.
"The 58th is reporting they've met Vile and have stalled much of his ground forces in protracted combat. We've been authorized by Major-General Myung to leave the remaining enemy here at Gangjeong to his forces, and go take out that fancy lookin' carrier Vile brought out as the designated piñata." He looked Erebus. "I want to take my people to back up the folks we have on the ground. Commander Tyber reported that he'd sent some people to try and deal with the carrier, I'd like you back them up. Can you handle it?"
"I'm almost insulted you asked." Erebus shot back, throwing in as much bravado as he could muster.
"Simple enough, folks. Confirm your landing coordinates through GPS, and warp when ready."
Guernica was loading a fresh magazine into his rifle when a bolt of plasma materialized from thin air just outside of the guard tower, the source being a humanoid reploid, clad in black, light armor, the blast fired from point-blank relative to Lao as he had been performing a sweep of the field through his scope, the plasma already melting through the barrel of his rifle, through his forearms, his upper body, his head, and then the wall behind him, all reduced to glowing slag.
Dead before he could even react. Just like that.
It happened so fast and so agonizingly slow to Guernica. The curse of being better-than-human, the ability to observe the world around you, events taking place within it, with clarity humans only dreamed of.
"MAVERICK!" He shouted into the tactical net, red dot of his scope centered on head of the reploid, seeing a plasma grenade already in the air, obscuring part of his view. Dash thrusters firing, Guernica pushed himself back towards the hole the buster shot had made just behind him, pulling the trigger three times just as the grenade detonated, a flash of light blinding him.
Guernica's shout over the comm, followed by the blast at his post, froze everyone in place as they spun to see what had hit their sharpshooters. Zero's mouth dropped open to shout for his people to move, when purple blood poured from it, his body pitching forward as the center of his back and stomach seemingly exploded outward. The crack of the shot came a fraction of a second later.
"SNIIIIIPERRRRRRRRRR!" He screamed, stumbling, refusing to fall to the ground, managing to stay upright on his knees, one arm holding him upright, the other formed into a buster, pointed in the direction the round had come from.
Some Hunters began to scatter, towards what cover they could find. He'd lost sight of Erebus, who'd been one of those closest to him when he'd taken the hit, but saw Kindle literally carry two Hunters to a safer position
Zero snarled, willing his body up once more, dash system unresponsive to his commands, limping, defiantly aiming a buster at where he believed the sniper was. From what he could tell, the shot had come from or through a building.
There's at least two, most likely more, with my luck. He shook his head as best he could, fighting a familiar red haze that threatened to envelop his world once more.
Through one of the ruined hangars the shot had come from, he saw a flash of light, and threw himself into the air as best he could manage, twisting as he did, trying to get towards cover, reaching out towards the shell he could see coming, watching it as it drew closer-
Adam was fallible, despite the almost single minded purpose of his body, he could miss, he could fail. It just wasn't meant to happen often.
A mag round could travel at varying speeds, depending on the weapon used, the size of the round itself, and a number of other factors. His particular rifle fired 12.7mm slugs at just over twice the speed of sound, a miss typically meant something the target had done was a factor above anything else he could have influenced.
His first shot hadn't missed. He'd hit the 'spine' of the target, the shot skimming just past the waist of another reploid to hit the only part of Zero that had been visible when Bernard had started the assault that managed to keep him in place. On any other humanoid reploid, that would have been it. It would have taken some of the best personnel armor available, reinforced with TitaniTefloAlloy, or electrically charged Chobham-composite hybrid plating, to keep even specially modified Hunters standing after taking a round like that to their torso, much less to remain alive.
What Adam should have seen, what he wanted to have seen, was Zero keeling over, then being ripped apart as his reactor went critical, containment fields and casing utterly ruined by the force of the impact reverberating through his body. What he saw was Zero turning to face him, almost as though he could see Adam from this distance, through the hanger he'd been shot through, as though he was not fooled by the therm-optic camouflage.
What Adam did not know was that Zero was no reploid, that his father had built him to fight the main battle tanks of his era barehanded, and expected him to win against even more dangerous opponents.
He pulled the trigger again, and Zero was already in motion, his wounded body moving with incredible speed even now, one of his hands snaking out towards the round with purpose-
Catching it, spinning with the momentum, landing upright, still staring at Adam's position. A grim reaper staring at him through the scope, a kilometer away, hatred seething in his eyes.
He can see me, somehow through the cloak, he can see me. That shouldn't be possible. It can't be possible.
And Adam knew fear, more intimately than ever before.
What the hell is he?
"Bernard." He managed to say as he stood upright, feeling himself shaking uncontrollably as he did. "Disengage, break off now."
No response.
Guernica had suffered worse falls in his time as a Hunter. This was a minor inconvenience at best, even after landing badly on his back, his systems rated themselves at over ninety percent efficiency. He was more concerned with the Maverick.
Slowly rounding the corner of the tower, fiery ash raining down around him from above as the aftermath of Lao's death consumed what was left of their former post, Guernica slapped in a fresh magazine into his weapon. Checking his motion sensors for any sign of the Maverick, finding only a weak signature, just over human-sized, fifteen meters ahead, out of his immediate sight.
Lunging around the blind corner, he found the Maverick, half of his head blown to pieces, the other half oddly unscathed, a pained expression written on what was left of his face. There was a hole the size of a football drilled though his chest, his right arm severed below the elbow. The occasional arc of electricity ran along his body, but there was no sign of a severe reactor failure, no indication of a self destruct protocol. His purple blood had pooled considerably beneath him.
"You got me, Maverick Hunter." His voice, surprisingly clear, caught Guernica by such surprise that he almost fire a fourth, and likely fatal shot into him.
"Guess I did." Guernica nodded, scanning the Maverick again for any potential trickery. "You don't have much time left."
"None of us really do." The Maverick tried to prop himself up, so he could face his remaining eye at the man who'd bested him, but could only pathetically scratch at the concrete beneath him, legs barely twitching. "Wondering how I'm still here, aren't you?"
"Pretty sure I got your control chip." Guernica decided it couldn't hurt to chat a little bit, though he never lowered his rifle away from the target.
"Ours are closer to what humans call the sternum. Against a dozen or so laws, but we were never meant to exist publicly."As he laughed, his voice distorted as power flickered throughout his body. "You were close. Damned close."
"Why are you here?"
"To kill Vile, Mega Man X, and Zero Omega."
Guernica made sure his mission recorder was still running its program.
"They're threats to the plan." The Maverick continued. "For various reasons. Vile's outlived his usefulness. X and Zero...they're cornerstones to the Hunters."
"And that's why you attacked us." Guernica growled. "Good people died then, and now."
"Because you people are in the best position to stop it. As outcasts, you make...the best of impartial observers. The best way to succeed at anything is to eliminate the factors that prevent success. Basic strategy for life and war."
"What about this plan of yours?"
"Not today, Hunter. No one will tell you what that is, today. I suspect you'll find out for yourself."
"Killing Zero or X wouldn't stop us from being what we are, it wouldn't stop us from doing what we do best. With or without them." Guernica declared. "What are your real goals?"
"Sergeant One One Seven, name designate 'Bernard'. Code Uniform Romeo, Unable To Return." The dying Maverick seemed to relax even further, his armor sagging heavily against the ground, speaking to persons unseen and likely very far away. "I gave you my name. How 'bout yours."
"Guernica. Sharpshooter for the 21st Unit."
"Guernica." The Maverick repeated, nodding slowly. "Nike told us about you. No cowboy hat today, sniper?" He managed to smile despite missing half of his face, even as his body began to fail, as his speech became more slurred.
"Not today."
"I see." His only eye focused on something that seemed to be behind, beyond the Hunter standing over him. "It was never personal, Guernica." His voice had gained an almost serene quality. "A proper war never is."
He shuddered once more, and then he died.
Guernica studied the lifeless corpse for a minute longer than he thought he would have cared to. Then he shouted in rage, kicking the tower hard enough his foot went through one of its walls.
"Proper war, huh?" he asked, knowing he'd receive no answer. Pulling his foot free from the wall, Guernica knelt next to the dead Maverick, opening a channel to Zero.
"Guernica, you okay?" Zero's asked immediately.
"Situation has been pacified. One Maverick, one Hunter down." He lowered his head. "One Hunter down."
"Sit tight, Guer, we're taking fire on our end." Zero said laboriously, shaking his head as though he'd snapped out of a trance. The sniper didn't respond, didn't need to for Zero to know that whatever Guernica was doing, he'd prioritize the other Maverick above all else.
Lao's death would more than provide motivation for that.
He limped towards cover, studying his ruined left hand and at what remained of the sniper round in its palm. The hand crackled with energy, a distorted 'Z' mark that seemingly shone from underneath the remains of his white glove fading from it, something he'd never seen before. He didn't know what possessed him to even attempt what he'd done, only that it had been pure instinct, that he knew it could be done.
"Pops knew how to make 'em," he muttered to himself. Though he'd done much to keep this particular secret, there was another part of him that would have derived much amusement from the reactions others would have had over his origins.
He'd lost the use of a buster, sustained potentially mortal damage, but had likely put the fear of God into the would be assassin. A part of him thought grimly that it might have been worth it if he could have seen the look on the sniper's face. All but collapsing against a crashed Mitsubatchi next to a pair of Hunters, he could feel his strength ebbing away rapidly as subroutines shut down throughout his body, shunting power away from his mobility and combat systems to the auto-repair protocols. They'd saved his life before, and they'd likely keep him in the fight now.
He tried to bring up his GPS to mark where he believed the shooter was located, and found to his dismay he could not even manage that.
"You," he pointed at one of the nearby Hunters. "Bring up a map. I'm giving you some coordinates. I think I can place where that shooter is."
"No need, Commander Zero." Erebus spoke over the net calmly. "Stay on mission, leave this one to me. I've got him. "
Adam had never felt so dominated by an opponent in his entire existence, and the worst of it was that he'd not actually been anywhere really near Zero in the first place. He imagined how badly things would have turned out if they'd tried a more direct approach, and remembered watching Zero maul the Bee Bladers. He decided things could have been worse.
Now was the time to escape, and there was no guarantee he could manage even that. There was no way they could accomplish the mission, under the circumstances. So shocked he'd been by Zero's survival of the attack, he'd not fired the remaining five rounds in the magazine, he'd simply watched as the Hunter scampered off to cover, obviously hurt, but more than willing and able to fight.
As he stood to leave, he was more surprised to see Bernard's HUD icon vanish from view.
And then there was one, Adam thought bitterly.
He wondered if Nike knew what she'd sent her men into, wondered if she had some concept of what Zero, what the Hunter were truly capable of. Had she genuinely underestimated their capabilities? Had she overestimated those of her comrades?
Had she sent them to die?
Adam tried to control his emotions, tried to calm himself, wondering what happened to that mental switch he'd used so often before today. These were the thoughts of a frightened man, not the thoughts of a professional. He'd done his best to do his duty, and despite this, it had proven beyond his capabilities.
What mattered now was survival. What he'd seen needed to reach his comrades. Warping away was out of the question, it was likely they'd combed more than a few databases in the Warp Network to nail down Jeju-do. They'd even sent a scout towards Hallasan, likely wanting to investigate the areas the Network had sent users to in that vicinity. If Vile had remained hidden, there was a chance they'd have found his secret location regardless.
Move, Adam. MOVE.
What finally spurred him into action was the sound of two beam sabers sparking to life, meters behind him. Turning to face the threat, he saw exactly whom he did not want to see, a dozen feet away, unable to determine exactly where Adam was hiding.
"You're nearby. Whoever you are." Number Four announced. "You might be who I'm looking for." He stalked several paces forward, stopping when something caught his eye on the ground. Kneeling, he deactivated one of his wrist sabers, picking up one of two spent shells, studying it carefully, almost. "I remember this. Barret-Browning LMR-2, fires a two stage cartridge, magnetically accelerated down the barrel, fin guided, armor piercing. If you were really gone, you'd have recovered your brass." Standing, he dropped the spent shell, the sound of it hitting the ground managing to stand out over the din of nearby fires, the occasional distant explosion of one of the few remaining Mitsubatchi taking a hit, or hitting something important somewhere on the base.
Turning his back to Adam, he re-lit the extinguished saber.
The Maverick raised his rifle slowly, studying his former comrade-at-arms, noting the damage he'd already sustained. Wondering why he was still in the field. Lining up the kill shot.
And hesitated.
"Interesting thing about the thermal optical camouflage we were built with. It's the quietest the US government ever developed for live combat." Erebus said, suddenly charging directly at Adam, taking a wild, wide-arced slash with the plasma blades.
He barely avoided losing his head, the barrel to his weapon severed in place of his neck. Dropping the cloak, he threw the remains of the rifle at the oncoming Four, watching it get bisected as he closed in. Adam reached for his own saber, its blade springing to life to stop Four's follow up slash, the twin, orange tinged blades stopping just inches away from his forehead, pushing Adam's own blue saber that much closer.
"But it was never quiet enough for us. Hello again, Four. Do you prefer Erebus?" He shoved back with as much strength he could muster, breaking the clash and pushing Erebus a dozen feet back. "I'd hoped to avoid this."
"Hello, One One Six. You are going to tell me where I can find Nike."
Seogwipo
12:50 PM
Cirrus suspected that the RA's they'd been fighting were unmanned, and quickly had proved himself correct. Prying open one of the dead Goliaths had revealed an empty cockpit, with signs that it had been remote piloted until the moment it had become inoperable.
His drone 'bits' were doing a good job keeping individual machines suppressed, even though the fog he'd generated had cleared, Cirrus had helped his unit make the most of the initial confusion he'd inflicted on the enemy. There remained much to be done. He directed his people and his drones where they needed to be, cutting off RA's that tried to slip past the net the 58th had cast. They'd managed to keep the machines away from evacuation efforts, but the AI that was governing them by remote seemed content to hunker down and fight defensively with the remaining machines, dragging out the battle for as long as possible.
The 58th had lost eight Hunters total thus far, but had managed to down over twice that number of ride armors. They were acquitting themselves well, but mostly because the mecha were fighting more cautiously, their controller likely wary of another ambush like the first. Eventually, they'd return to boldness, and hopefully, they'd get more help before that.
Complicating matters was Zero's recent report that his team had taken sniper fire, and that he was going to be unable to personally help deal with the encroaching air carrier. Diamond and Spade, the two Hunters Cirrus ordered to prioritize the ship, had yet to report any success boarding the vessel. There was no need to press them further on the matter, he could see what they saw easily enough. He gave five of his Hunters new waypoints, directing them to assist the boarding pair. It would have to do.
For now, it hung like a guillotine over the city as it continued towards Gangjeong, taking shots at police or military units that strayed too close. The Korean mil-net was buzzing with word that the GDC had a carrier of its own over the East China Sea, south of Jeju-do, and it had deployed a flight of fighter-bombers to deal with the Maverick vessel, which made the evacuation efforts that much more urgent. When the GDC fighters arrived, they would likely bring the carrier down on the city itself, and the resulting detonation of the on board power plants would be devastating. He had to get people on board to try and prevent that. The city would be spared, but a very welcome added bonus would be the mountains of intel they'd likely be able to glean from the vessel if they moved quickly enough.
We just have to finish this before they get here.
Cirrus viewed the whole situation from on high, his perception of everything connected now to a Korean MilNet satellite that he'd 'borrowed' after confirming it had been safe to do so, adjusting its' orbit just enough that he could see everything he needed to see, when he needed to see it.
Which made it rather surreal when he could see a Ride Armor all too similar to the first one he'd disabled appear from behind a taller building the satellite was poorly positioned to see past, no more than what he estimated was fifty feet behind him.
He could see himself turn to face the Armor, see his drones closing in from all around him, see how truly small and useless his double beam halberd really looked against something that big and fast. More importantly, he could see that he was too late, hearing the roar of its dash systems tearing through the asphalt as it closed that short distance between them.
As furious as he could ever remember being, Vile had managed to keep his composure long enough to formulate a plan of attack the moment his systems recovered from the unsolicited shock therapy he'd received. The majority of the firepower on his Goliath had been rendered worthless, hard connections to the heavy auto-cannons and the plasma busters fried beyond the capabilities of the auto-repair systems. What he did have were the spiked gauntlets for fists on the mecha, the dash system, and the willingness to throw himself headlong at the Hunter who'd set up the ambush.
Using his connection to the other RA's, he'd picked out the commander of the unit he'd run into, taking note of his combat capability, his use of drone bits to disable RA's for his Hunters to destroy. Vile had been lucky in that the RA's managed to keep the Hunters away from him while he recovered from the electric shock. That aside, they were showing a remarkable level of thoroughness at dealing with disabled mecha. In general, their ability to respond to changes in the battlefield and the tactics of their enemy was well above normal.
And now he closed in on the Hunter he believed was making that possible.
Cirrus had good reflexes despite having been caught off guard, backpedaling swiftly as Vile swung hard with the right fist of his machine, dragging it through the street as he did. It was enough to save his life, as he'd managed to avoid being outright impaled by the spikes, even as the punch carried him up in the air, through a streetlight, towards another storefront, through the store front, various magazine and book displays, into a wall thick enough to stop both him and the ride armor. Now the spiked gauntlets did what they were meant to do, crushing and puncturing his heavy armor chestplate. From behind, the heavy carbon steel rebar inside the wall dug its way into him, piercing his left arm and holding it in place.
Master Caution! Complete structural failure imminent! Auto-stasis and reactor shutdown recommended! flashed across his vision.
Dust and debris littered the air, but not enough to hide the armor from his eyes as it leaned in closer to him, as though it were about to whisper into his ear some secret between friends.
"I gotcha where I wantcha and now I'm gonna eatcha." Vile singsonged from within the machine. "And you were doing so well. Outnumbered, out gunned, you ran a good race, but we can't all be winners."
At the elbow of the massive forearm behind the fist, a piston hissed and pulled back, extending almost as far as the arm was long.
Cirrus Tyber's eyes widened as soon as he recognized what was about to happen, leveling the one arm he could maneuver at the mecha, forming a buster as the pile bunker drove itself forward violently, his last sensation that of being thrown through the bricks, heavy concrete, and steel.
Vile cackled in triumph as he watched the Hunter rag-doll lifelessly through the rest of the building, out into the street on the opposite side, wrapping partially back first around the hood of an abandoned car. The Hunter's momentum was enough to lift the car up and over, both tumbling end over end several times through several more vehicles before finally coming to a halt.
Once he'd brought his laughing fit under control, he checked on Rubicon, pleased to see it report no major obstacles in its path. He imagined the Hunters, while busy trying to hold off his drone armors, were probably also concerned with taking down his ship, but the AI claimed it had thus far repelled all boarding attempts. The plan was working better than he hoped, which meant he truly had no idea what to do next that would be truly meaningful.
"Hell, we've come this far and lasted this long." Vile grumbled. "Ruby-cakes?"
"Yes, Lord Vile?"
"Forget about Gangjeong. There are more targets in the city."
For the 58th Wild Cards, the moment Cirrus Tyber's continuous satellite updates came to an abrupt halt was enough to shock even the more battle hardened fighters in the unit. With the consistent, accurate tactical and strategic updates that defined the way the unit fought under his command robbed from them, they slowly, but inevitably lost their fighting cohesiveness. While they'd whittled down a number of the ride armors the Mavericks had deployed, they'd only been able to accomplish much of that because they'd been told where and when they could expect the enemy to be.
Slowly, but inevitably, fire teams became scattered, separated, trying to deal with armors as they appeared without forewarning, threatening civilian lives. Teams of four became pairs, and occasionally, Hunters stood alone.
The 58th had not quite broken, still fighting well in spite of it all, but attrition, combined with the knowledge that their commander was gone, started to take its toll.
MHHQ New Tokyo
The moment Beryl announced that all contact with Cirrus Tyber had been lost, Signas had cursed aloud, surprising all present in the command center. He'd clenched and unclenched his fists, pacing furiously around the room. He was angry, at those that commanded him to show restraint, to use the absolute minimum force required. At himself, for having listened to them. To Signas, any progress he believed he'd made as the replacement for Doctor Cain, he'd thrown away acting like a simple lapdog without a mind of his own, under the guise that he was doing the right thing by being obedient to his human masters.
They could see the real time satellite display now showing the renewed bombardment the Maverick carrier was delivering on the city. They could see the could see the individual dramas of the 58th playing out in front of them.
He'd made the wrong call, again. As he'd done when he first took command after the passing of Cain, nearly destroying the Hunter organization in the process. He was killing his men and women.
My reward for following the rules of men entirely disinterested in protecting those they serve, Signas thought to himself. Only because they hold titles and ranks above mine. Because they are not reploids.
Unforgivable.
He knew why he'd sat on his hands and allowed this to play out the way it had thus far. He was afraid. After the events of December 12th, he'd sat alone in his office for hours, trying to see where he'd gone wrong. Trying to see if his increasingly relaxed outlook had somehow lead to unnecessary losses. As commander, it was ultimately his responsibility to prepare his Hunters for such things.
Afraid to fail, he failed to act, failed to rely on his personal judgment that screamed for him to allow X to move the 17th and the 21st into action. Afraid to act without proper permission.
Even now, here he sat, watching his subordinates pay for his actions.
No.
"Send word to General Lenneth that she is clear to deploy all of her available forces to Jeju-do," Signas announced. "I want every single able Hunter in the New Tokyo command to deploy to Jeju-do to relieve the 58th and Zero's team. Immediately. This farce ends now."
Once more, he could see his people look to him, this time with surprise. Embarrassed by his display, he leaned forward against one of the communications consoles as though he were studying the pixels on the LED display intensely, fingers rapping against the touchscreen control panel rhythmically.
"There is no more time to waste. I have done quite enough of that for us all."
The gathered commanders bolted out of the room, already calling orders into their com-links, save for Commander Snipes. Though he technically was the highest ranking officer of the 73rd Unit, being human meant he could not safely warp with the majority of his unit.
"I've passed the word to my reploids, sir." Snipes approached Signas, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You gonna be alright?"
"It seems I learn my lessons in leadership at ever increasing costs."
"It was a little late of you, but hell, better than never." Snipes chuckled. "I think Cain would approve of this. He did enjoy sticking it to those GDC pogues, when the chances arose."
"I suppose I could get used to that." Signas turned to his attention back to Beryl. "Open a line to MHHQ New York."
NAS Gangjeong
1:01 PM
Erebus and Adam fought in a manner closer to wild animals as opposed to built, programmed, and trained military machines. They'd not spoken another word after their initial greeting, concentrating solely on winning. The world around them ceased to hold meaning for them. Somewhere in the back of Erebus' mind, he knew that both Kindle and Zero had repeatedly requested a status update from him, but that was beneath his interest at the moment.
They had battled across a good chunk of the base, beam saber to beam sabers, scoring the occasional light cut here and there. Erebus was at a disadvantage, with a portion of his vitals exposed, and was fighting more defensively, growing stronger as his auto-repair nanos dealt with the more serious internal damages he'd suffered before the fight. Adam clearly made efforts to avoid attempts at killing blows, trying more to decisively disable his former comrade, but nonetheless pressed Erebus hard and fast. There were structural differences, but they were more or less identical in capability and skill. It was a vicious, fast paced stalemate.
Adam charged in yet again, slipping past the lethal arc of Erebus' plasma wrist blades shoulder first. The impact knocked Erebus flat, and in the next instant Adam was standing over him, his own saber on its way downward towards the forearms of his opponent, attempting to literally disarm his foe.
Erebus' dash thrusters whined with overuse as he pushed himself along the ground away from the Maverick. Despite the quick reaction, Adam's blade had melted through his right leg, disabling one of his thrusters, the working dash system forcing him into a nearly uncontrolled tumble before he disabled it, rolling back onto his feet, and he could hear another voice join the others in his mind, clamoring for attention.
"Answer me, Erebus! Do you require assistance?"
Lenneth was on Jeju-do. Vanguard, minus its human members, was to follow.
Even as his beam sabers clashed with Adam's once more, he could see past the flaring light of the plasma, see that in the distance, landing in the city, and much closer, all throughout NAS Ganjeong, he could see it. Nearly two hundred streaks of light, of various colors, raining down all around them. His people and the Hunters, coming from the heavens.
It was a clear violation of the agreement the Maverick Hunters and the GDC had with the Korean government, but he was certain that neither Signas or Lenneth cared much for that particular restriction they'd been forced to operate under.
Good girl. It would have been a waste to leave you in the hands of the government. Big waste.
Erebus met eyes with Adam, and in them he could see realization of what the storm of warp light meant. For the briefest of moments, the tension evident in his body lessened. Resignation, perhaps?
"It's over." Erebus spoke for the first time since they'd begun their duel. "You know it, so do I. Whatever you're after, you'll never have it. Even if you warp away, we will track you. Find you, your comrades. And we will kill you all."
The moment suddenly passed, and Adam put so much strength into pushing Erebus back that their sabers began to lose their distinct shapes as the magnetic bottling fields surrounding the plasma struggled to maintain coherence. The ground literally crumbled at Erebus' feet as he struggled to stay upright, his damaged leg protesting against the strain, hinting at total collapse any second.
"Nike tells me," said Adam, "that she wants you to find her."
"Alright. Challenge accepted."
The damaged leg finally collapsed on itself, Erebus falling back, Adam falling toward him, off balance for a fraction of a second. Erebus reached out to him, grabbing a hold of the hand that held his beam saber, pulling Adam closer. Using his good leg to shift their collective weight, he spun them half way around, forcing the Maverick beneath him as he drove first one wrist saber into his chest, then the other, pinning the surprised reploid to the ground. Adam's body went slack immediately, his mouth opening and closing involuntarily from shock.
"No assistance required, Lenneth. I have what we want." Erebus said, staring down at the shocked Maverick, still twitching as Erebus straddled him. The tarmac underneath hissed and boiled from the plasma staked into it. "Now then. Fulfill your mission objective. Where is she?" Pulling his left wrist saber free, Erebus drew the hand back into a fist, the beam saber deactivating, then punched, with all his might, at a small location, unmarked, just below what would have been considered a human sternum. A dozen cables snaked free from his arm, jabbing into the Maverick seemingly at random locations.
Zero had managed to stand mostly by leaning against the ruined Blader. Signas' new orders, the information he was receiving, was all very good news except for the fact that in his current state there was very little he could do to help accomplish that mission. He'd been reduced to the role of spectator of a show he'd been a part of just a short time before, and having sent his warp-capable Hunters away to assist the 58th, he was finding solitude in the middle of a battlefield easily less appealing than some poets tried to convince people of otherwise.
The warp light landing on the island all around him was quite the thing to witness, he had to admit. Almost made waiting for his internals to be restored by his auto repair worth it, a powerful, humbling sight even to him.
The sound of yet another Mitsubatchi in the air much closer than he would have liked filled his ears, and he did his best to face the threat, leveling his remaining buster-capable arm at the target. While the rest of his combined team had done well to whittle away at the threat, there were still plenty of the fliers still up and still hostile. It was only a matter of time before one found him, on his lonesome. Erebus' Vanguard people had stuck to helping out at the base, but no one was near by to help him.
Gotta be kidding me. He fired his first shot, and the machine easily juked out of the way of the shot. He could see the infrared beams emanating from the craft, moving towards him as it occasionally jetted to one side or the other.
"Come on." Zero snarled, gesturing for the Blader to make its move. "Come on!"
A blue mass of plasma speared through it from above just as its sighted its autocannon at him, boiling into and through the tarmac effortlessly. It yawed hard to the left as control thrusters and anti-gravity fields failed, spiraling towards the ground. A second plasma bolt decapitated the craft, and it blew apart messily before impact.
Mega Man X landed gracefully just ten feet away from Zero, the buster he'd formed out of his right hand still smoldering with the heat of recent use.
"Signas and I thought you could use some help. Where's the rest of your Hunters?"
Zero rolled his eyes. "I had it under control, so I sent them off to help the 58th, those that are still warp capable." He poked X in the chest. "Like I need a rescue, screw Signas, and screw you for coming here with that smirk on your face." They shared a laugh.
"What the hell hit you?" X asked, inspecting Zero's damages with wide eyes.
"Mag-rifle, prolly at about the very extreme range it could have been fired to punch clean through me. Too far, it'd have just bounced around inside me, no more Zero." Almost amused at his physical state, he pushed his right hand into the gaping hole at his belly, trying to see if he could reach all the way through. He couldn't. "I've lost my warp generator, but that's not so bad, all things considered. I've really got to stop being this lucky."
"I'd have been here sooner, but Signas...he was tied up by red tape."
"Seems to have cut through it okay. What's the sitrep?"
"The 17th, with the help of Vanguard, are mopping up around Gangjeong. Signas sent pretty much every able Hunter out of New Tokyo into Seogwipo to relieve the 58th and secure the air carrier the Vile's got over the city, hopefully before GDC or Korean fighters arrive to shoot it down. On that end, I've got Gavin's 21st lending a hand."
"Doesn't sound too bad when you say it."
"It's the bottom of the ninth, and we need to hit this out of the park." X shook his head. "There are still around thirty Bladers in the air. Are you ready to move?"
In response, Zero drew his saber from its charging port.
Everything felt so heavy to Adam, particularly the weight of his former comrade atop him, a beam saber stuck through a part of himself, a hand deep within another. His HUD warned of various 'foreign interface attempts' being made, of but there was nothing he could do to stop it now. The world seemed to grow more distant from him, as though he were sinking into the ground slowly.
"So, this is how it ends for me."
"Yes it is, One One Six."
Adam found himself standing on nothing, his mind's representation of the the Network, the Electrosphere, far below. He could see where the Network still remained severed by Vile's viral attack, see individual connections restore themselves. Before him, stood Erebus, looking nothing like he did today, instead appearing as he once did as a member of the 2nd RSF.
"Clinging to better times, Four?"
"Your definition of better is...lacking."
"Your tactics changed rather suddenly. Why?"
They stared at the Electrosphere together in silence for a moment.
"Just following orders, you could say. If Nike wants me to find her, then I will." Erebus finally answered.
"It's a submarine. Even I don't know it's exact location now. I can tell you that when you finally do locate it, you'll have been too late."
"Explains a lot. So what's the plot? You've instigated a war, seemingly unavoidable at this point."
"It's nothing you aren't already intimately aware of, Former Commander. We're doing what our original mission dictates. Just as Apollo said."
"I quit the unit, shortly after that speech if you'll recall."
"And you never reported it to our overseers. For disagreement, that seems like a rather mild response."
"I never disagreed on the basic principals driving the mission. I disagreed with the methods."
Adam laughed, almost harshly. "Ridiculous, especially from you, Four. I looked up to you. Once upon a time, I could have been your Tonto, Mister Lone Ranger."
"Hell, Five was the one to get us hooked onto that show."
"Chronos? Good girl, wasn't she?"
"That the name you people gave her." Erebus shook his head. "Don't think I'll ever understand."
"Yeah." Adam's expression became wistful. "A real beauty, she was. Then again, I guess all the women of the RSF's were built that way. Not so impressive when it's mass produced, still, a good e-warfare specialist, one of the best."
"Lead you and the Terrible Trio, didn't she?"
"Yeah. She did. I wasn't there, the day it happened. I was in the arcology."
Erebus sighed. "One One Six, I don't feel sorry for what I've done. Mavericks are Mavericks, regardless of their cause, their beliefs. She had to die in Los Angeles. Just like you have to die today."
"I don't want you to regret it, sir." Adam frowned. "Sacrifices have to be made to achieve a greater objective."
"Until there is no enemy, but peace," Erebus recited. "Built for war, expected to maintain peace through superior firepower."
"Like Repliforce, like the Hunters. The difference between us all is a matter of perspective, that's something that can be fixed."
"If reploids, who can share thoughts, memories, personalities, can't agree on how best to unite, you can't possible expect humanity to be able to."
"Not as it stands, not simply by working 'inside' the system, like you."
"So, 'one big push', all over again."
"Just like you suggested, back then." Adam opened his arms wide, as though welcoming Erebus into an embrace. "That's why I can watch my friends die, one by one, watch their blood stain your hands. We want to be that 'one big push'. We will be that calamity. We would happily drop another hundred Sky Lagoons, we would turn suburbs to ash, without hesitation. Line up the innocent, execute them on live international television, and we'll wear the colors of any nation we see fit to. We'll set the nations of the world at eachother's throats. Whatever it takes. Fighting for peace is what we were built to do."
"SKYLIGHT. You want SKYLIGHT." Erebus nodded as another puzzle piece inside his mind fell into place, as his imagination continued mulling over days of investigation even now. "That is why Hecatonchire was in hiding there."
"There isn't a bigger stick to shake at the whole planet," Adam said firmly. "But why stop there? You know the game now. The real question is, will you be able to stop us before we succeed?"
"Well, Sigma tried that trick once, and the human race didn't flinch, didn't blink, and still finds time to be savage to one another. Maybe he wasn't thinking big enough. Maybe you've got it right this time," said Erebus. "In the end, it depends on how quickly we can retire you all. I think we're off to a good start."
Adam smiled. "Good answer, Four. Good luck to you."
Erebus turned back to his former comrade, his expression sorrowful, and then his avatar winked out of existence a moment later, abandoning that world of data for reality once more.
Adam was alone now, and yet he was surrounded by friends, as the end came for him. He could sense their presences all around him inside the Network. He knew that she had heard everything, as impassive an observer as ever.
"Nike. I believe you miscalculated," Adam said, addressing her directly. "Zero, X, Vile, they're not the people we should have been sent out to kill, though I admit death was likely an inevitability either way."
"I'm sorry, I disagree with you, but I understand why you would believe that."
"That death was inevitable, or that Erebus is a greater threat?" To that, she remained silent. "He will come for you, and he will show no mercy. Is that what you wanted?"
"Yes." Nike said. "I am sorry for what I sent you all to do. Your reward is inadequate. You fought well, Adam."
"We all did." Adam gazed once more at the 'Earth' below him. "We did what we did because we believed in the cause. Now, make it count."
"We will."
The Network seemed to grow brighter suddenly, as her angel-like avatar appeared before him, one last time, and he wished that there was some way he could continue to watch everything unfold.
Kindle had been lucky enough to watch Zero use a short range warp to assist in dispatching mechaniloids, or simply to evade attacks he could not do so through the natural agility within his frame. It almost bothered the feraloid that he hadn't thought of doing so himself, before today. He bore down on his next victim with speed greater than he could achieve alone, riding the last vestiges of warp light trailing him, hands outstretched, claws extended, flames jetting from his 'mane'.
The claws, vibrating so fast that their hum could be heard even over the air rushing past him, sank like easily enough through the light armor plating atop the Blader, his arms driving into the machine up to his elbows, before tearing it wide open, almost entirely in half at its 'thorax', passing through effortlessly. A quick burst of his dash thrusters slowed him down to a safer speed, and he hit the ground running.
When Zero had been shot, the Captain had disappeared within seconds of the actual hit. The last anyone had heard was him telling Zero he was dealing with the shooter personally. He'd been silent on the tactical net from that point forward, and no further sniper fire had come their way.
Be nice if he let us all know he's okay.
Kindle had placed a rough location to where he believed the sniper had shot from, but had not been given much opportunity to investigate it himself. Supporting the locals had to come first. With additional help arriving, he could tend to that.
When he came to that place he'd marked in his mind, he'd found the signs of combat, very personal, between two reploids, of average height compared to him. He found a pair of shell casings compatible one of fifteen actively used varieties of mag-rifle in the world. The burn marks on the ground typical of recent and frequent bursts from dash boots. Smoking gashes that marked where plasma cut through the tarmac.
Kindle began to run raster, in his mind he was recreating the battle that had been fought, as it traveled though a burned out hangar, through a parked fighter, lying in half, its hull heavily dented from the foot falls of reploids passing over it. The trails of low flying charged plasma here and there.
He kept running.
When he found Erebus, he found him atop a Maverick similar to the ones he'd been shown in the briefing before coming to Jeju-do, left hand embedded inside its chest. From the arm had sprung forth dozens of data wires, plugged into to various parts of the Maverick. Kindle came to a halt, his body immediately tensing once more, unsure what to expect.
Erebus pulled his hand free and stood up, staggering back several steps, his bad leg an increasingly greater hindrance with every moment weight was placed upon it. The data cables disengaged from the Maverick, sliding back into Erebus quickly and silently.
"So, that's how it is."
"Captain?" Kindle asked, watching The Captain ignore him.
"Goodbye, One One Six."
Erebus leveled both hands towards the Maverick, busters formed, plasma gathered in seconds, roiling at the tips of both weapons, the distinct whine of capacitors and containment fields attempting to control and compact raw destructive power.
"Captain, don't-" Kindle said reflexively, as the busters reached full strength, and fired.
Little remained of the reploid known as One One Six, save for a pool of his slagged and the occasional spark from what remained of his legs and arms. There was nothing left that could even cause secondary explosions. It had been a ruthlessly efficient kill.
"That's how it is." Erebus said once more, still paying no mind to Kindle, though obviously aware that he stood behind him now. Finally, he turned away from the dead Maverick, to face Kindle.
"Captain, we're-"
"Here to help. I know." Their eyes met. The Captain's expression was blank, unreadable, unknowable, but for his eyes. They betrayed something Kindle had never seen in the reploid before: anger, barely held in check, even as he fell back towards the ground, his bad leg refusing even to support him standing in one place.
"Was he...one of the 2nd RSF?"
"Formerly. As you can see." He frowned at the pieces of dead Maverick. "I got what I needed from him. No need to salvage something so far gone."
"What the hell have you been doing?" Lenneth said, arriving seconds later, angry and breathless, showing signs that she'd already seen combat in her short time on Jeju-do. "I've been trying to get a status update from you, what happ-" And then she saw Erebus sitting, almost catatonic, lost in his own thoughts, and her indignant act rapidly faded away. She turned to Kindle. "What happened here?"
"Couldn't tell you." Kindle said. It was truthful enough. He asked himself if this had been what the Captain meant by no longer wishing to be 'that good', and he did not like the answer he came up with.
There still remained much to be done, and there was little time to spare in accomplishing it all.
With so many Hunters now in the combat zone, matters had become complicated, more so than Signas could have imagined as he heatedly made his case for once more breaking the chain of command to unsympathetic human superiors in Amsterdam.
Vanguard had all but taken over Hunter responsibility of defending NAS Gangjeong, but the damage to the facilities and casualties to Korean personnel had already been done. In Seogwipo proper, the Hunters, with Gavin's 21st in the lead, still found themselves harassed by ride armor and the sheer offensive firepower the Maverick carrier had to offer, with things further complicated by the fact that civilian law enforcements were only barely keeping the fleeing civilian populace in something bearing a semblance of order. Hunters quickly found themselves unable to go fully on the offensive, their duty to protect innocent lives coming first. For the moment, Vile's ship commanded the skies.
With the GDC having already deployed a sizable fighter-bomber group towards the island, they'd given a simple, unspoken ultimatum to Signas: If the Hunters and their 'uninvited' American friends were unable to pacify the situation themselves, the GDC military would, the objections of the Korean government and the Hunters notwithstanding.
Regardless of the means, there would be no Mavericks on Jeju-do by the day's end.