Shooting Stars and Reploid Arms: Remixed
Remixed Chapter 11
Reality returned with aching slowness. Every inch of his body from his foot to his head throbbed, feeling a lot like the tingle of waking up a limb after blood deprivation had driven it to sleep – only all over. The only part which didn't tingle was his left arm. In specific, that one little part on the inside of his elbow which doctors loved to stick needles into. Cautious, he opened his eyes.
"Gah."
And regretted it at once when florescent light, softer than normal but still far too bright to his still waking senses, burned his eyes from above.
A human figure moved forward to blot out the light. "Easy, Colonel Makepeace," the voice belonging to what a great majority of SGC believed was an angel spoke in soft, soothing tones.
Colonel Robert Makepeace, United States Marine Corps and current head of SG-3, bit back half formed cusses that would have had his Drill Sergeant putting him on latrine duty for a week. It didn't take a genius to realize that he was propped up in a cot located within the small segment of Dr. Fraiser's medical ward which had been delegated to one Honorary Dr. Xavier Light.
The familiar plastic of a straw touched his lips just as he was beginning to realize how thirsty he was. Grateful, he sucked down a gulp of water, the one arm not protesting about having an IV needle in it attempting, and failing with shaking results, to steady the water's source. Gentle hands steadied his grip, holding the water bottle and its attached straw in range long enough for Makepeace to quench his thirst.
"My men?" Makepeace demanded around a dry cough.
"Dallas has a few shrapnel wounds, and all of you are suffering from mild dehydration, but that's it," the good honorary doctor assured him, putting the water bottle aside. "Given how your team was found, however, Dr. Fraiser has ordered overnight surveillance. Barring an unforeseen change in your conditions, your team will be placed on light duty for the remainder of the week."
"Light duty?"
"No off-world missions, and the worst you'll be dealing with planet-side is 'Gate guard." The sparkle in green eyes didn't quite match the quirk of a smirk pulling at Dr. Light's lips. "But then given how Zero is on your team, that really won't be a problem. Stressful, maybe, what with Zero's sense of humor and all. But difficult in the event of a 'Gate breach?" Dr. Light snorted back a dark chuckle. "I'd feel sorry for the other guy if it weren't for the fact the other guy is a snake-eating bastard."
Zero...?
Memory of a blond in blood covered armor who'd just finished turning ten Super Soldiers into so much sashimi returned with a bang, making Makepeace stiffen. No way could Light have known Wily's other name, he hadn't been there. Unless Light had known from the very start...
Makepeace took in the saving angel of SGC medical with new eyes, wishing nigh desperately for a firearm of some variety.
Honorary Dr. Light pulled a tall bottle of beer out from behind him. Set it down with deliberate intent on the swing-around table at chest height. A flick of the thumb and the soft hiss of the beer cap come loose made Makepeace blink.
"I think," Dr. Light – if that even was his name – spoke with professional calm smothering an otherwise inaudible note of fear, "you're going to want one of these."
General Gorge Hammond regarded the report in front of him with the same look he had once given his 2IC after the colonel had explained what had happened to Abydos. The first time O'Neill had tried to explain that galaxy-sized snafu, General Hammond had sent him straight to Major-Dr. Fraiser for yet another neurotox screening.
"I'd offer you a penny for your thoughts, Gorge, but it looks like you could use more than chump change," Jacob Carter noted with a slight twist of sarcasm.
Hammond put the reports down before he strangled them. At least this time, instead of having a whole team killed by the mystery upgraded Kull Warriors, they were alive. Unconscious in Dr. Fraiser's tender care, but alive nonetheless.
"This is getting ridiculous, Jacob," General Hammond sighed.
"Tell me something I don't know," Jacob countered with his own sigh. "I don't get it, George. Anubis should not have known our 'Gate address. None of our spies inside his ranks know that particular address given how the whole base was basically one giant science lab for Anise, Freya, and the other scientists."
A whole science lab which was currently undergoing the organized chaos of mass evacuation and relocation. Ah, how he envied their fellow Tok'ra... Not.
Don't snicker, Selmak poked him. If they do not act quick enough...
A few of Anise's tech toys getting into the hands of Anubis... The thought made Jacob pale. He'd seen the reports on what some of Anise's toys could do if the bugs were ever worked out of them. If it weren't for the severity of his current mission, Jacob would be right there alongside the moving crew with zat in hand to make sure there weren't even enough leftover bits and pieces to put together a toaster.
But it was another thought which made Hammond all the more nervous.
"Jacob. According to Colonel O'Neill's report, those Soldiers had been dealt with by time he, Teal'c, and Tok'ra security had arrived." And SG-3 had been out cold for who knew how long. Not a good thing. At all.
"None of the members of SG-3 are zatarc, General." The odd megaphone-esque voice Selmak used to help distinguish between herself and her host broke Hammond's troubled train of thought. "Dr. Fraiser and I tested all four members with Major Carter's sensing device. As the device in question is still in the testing stages, if you would like, I can arrange for Anise and Freya to conduct a more through scan with their zatarc detector."
"With all due respect, Ambassador, I believe we've had enough of Tok'ra charity to last us quite a while," Hammond said, his voice tactfully neutral, and his thoughts dancing around the single crate his major and lead first-contact specialist had drug through the Stargate. And the horrific discovery therein which had almost made him loose his lunch.
Almost. Fortunately enough, the body strategically stuffed in pieces looked just fake enough to override the sense of wrongness at seeing the robotic human mess inside.
"I told Anise not to pack the head on top, or to at least close its eyes." Jacob fought back a shudder, remembering all too well the terrified yelp of his daughter as she'd opened their package. He closed his eyes. Then, slowly, locked Hammond's gaze in his own. "George, we have a problem."
"Aside from these new Super Soldiers?" Hammond asked, deliberately letting the topic of the crate drop.
"Including them," Jacob replied. "Somehow, some way, the address of one of our more secure basses was leaked to Anubis. And the Council is not happy about it. Selmak and I have been asked," which was the polite way of saying they had been ordered, "to investigate the possibility of a spy within the SGC."
And the day, as they say, was looking better by the minute.
One beer alone was so not going to cut it.
Wily had come walking in around the same time Dr. Light had popped open Makepeace's beer. The blond had brought with him two more cold brews and had waited, patiently, between Dallas's and Thompson's respective hospital cots. Wily had exchanged some form of greeting with Dr. Light, whom he had called X, along with a short-hand site-rep giving the equivalent of an all clear.
After his fellow Marines were awake, Dr. Light had given a similar report about their basic diagnosis and helped them down a half a bottle of water each. Meanwhile, Wily casually popped the two beers, and set one down per Marine.
At which point their conversation turned from weird to downright bizarre.
"You're a what?" Dan Thompson, a major whom Makepeace had picked as SG-3 2IC due to his level head under weird fire, yelped in shock.
For their part, Dr. Light and Wily both refused to flinch. There'd been so much hurt in that single yelp.
"We're Reploids – no relation to Replicators," Wily clarified at SG-3's various looks of terror.
"The year for us is 21XX. Robotics have advanced beyond all conceived boundaries. The only thing now separating robots like ourselves from humans is that we're silicone-based and humans are carbon-based. Axl, Zero, and I arrived here on Earth in 2002 due to a mishap with an experimental teleportation unit," Dr. Light explained.
"You're not civilians at all... are you?"
Dr. Light shook his head, a soft and silent no answering Dallas's whispered question. "We're not civilian-grade Reploids," he confirmed with an ocean's depth of sadness darkening both tone and eyes. "Just like all things, Reploids are not free of error. Some Reploids, like some humans, have... emotional problems."
"Like psychotic problems," Wily cut in, voice humorless.
"And a psychotic Reploid would be a bad thing," Makepeace spoke the obvious, expression pale as the implications set in. Imagine: someone as strong as Zero set loose in the middle of downtown suburbia and with a psycho's tendency to slaughter everything in sight.
Not a pretty picture.
"The best way to fight fire is with fire – the same goes for Reploids. An international paramilitary group was organized to move against the rouge Reploid threat. Axl, Zero, and I are a part of that organization. We," Dr. Light gestured to himself and Wily with a flick of his hand, "are Maverick Hunters."
"A full international paramilitary ops?" At Wily's sharp nod affirmative, Thompson gulped. "Damn. How much of a problem are these rouges?"
"Truthfully?" Dr. Light sighed, depressed. "A bit worse than the NID. Both groups have to stay under the radar. Maverick definitions of 'under the radar,' however, vary from covert ops to obliterating a city."
A moment's hesitation. "You mean a city block, right?" Thompson dared to ask.
"No. X means a city. Like Colorado Springs."
Silence.
"...Shit..."
"Yep," Wily agreed, expression grim. "Our one bonus point is that Mavericks – the rouges – tend not to work well in groups larger than two or three. Occasionally, eight or so will ban together and try to take over the world. But that only happens once every two or so years."
More silence tinted now with an air of oh shit, we're all gonna die.
Rockman X released a long suffering sigh. And then promptly smacked Zero upside the head.
"What the hell was that for?!" Zero demanded, both hands clutching the back of his head.
"I'll take insensitive ass for two hundred, Dr. Light," Thompson quipped, a fine trace of a smirk pulling at his lips. Whatever they were, whatever their home world's background, they acted human, and at least one of their number had been human enough to ascend. They may not have been human in flesh, but they were close enough to count as human in Thompson's book.
"God, no wonder Wallace wanted to play videogames until he dropped," Dallas added on, his own voice sad but no longer depressed. "Your world sucks worse than ours!"
"And it'd suck even more if the NID managed to find it. Or get their hands on either of you." Makepeace drew the eyes of his two Marines, a silent measuring question. Slowly, he exhaled, releasing a tense breath into the still air. "Major Dan Thompson, Lance Corporal Scott Dallas." Both Marines snapped to attention as well as they could. "I am giving you both a direct order. No one outside this room is to know about Rockman X or Zero unless absolutely, apocalypse-pending, positively necessary. Is that clear?"
"Sir yes sir!"
And may Colonel O'Neill and General Hammond forgive him if they ever found out.
Elsewhere, in another place, in another time...
Dr. Cain pulled his flask out, granted himself a long swig of spirit, then returned the flask to its proper place.
"I think," he sad slowly, "for the sake of the one man in here without multiple PhDs in robotics and its sundry fields, we had better take a moment to explain what the hell Lumine is. Because as I distinctly recall, when we caught him, that honest to heaven nut job was on his way up without any help from any of us – which, with him being a Reploid and all, should not have been possible!"
Dr. Cossack removed his glasses so as to polish them. "Not unless he was caught by our beloved loophole."
"You mean the loophole you used to get Rock, Roll, Blues, Forte, and the Robot Masters up here? The one I used to get Storm Eagle and my other Hunters up here? The loophole which clearly states that only those created by one of us directly could catch a free lift to ascension without one of our number going down there to pick them up despite the fact they were machines? That loophole?" At the various affirmative answers whispered from around the room, Dr. Cain pulled out his flask again, muttering under his breath something about wanting a pitcher of vodka.
It was only after Dr. Cain set his now empty flask down that he demanded, "How the bloody hell did Lumine managed to catch a lift with that particular loophole? I'm certain as hell I didn't build him. Dr. Light's and Dr. Wily's creations are all accounted for – at least all the dead ones. Dr. Cossack's bunch are here, too." The Russian scientist flinched, forcing Dr. Cain to add, "...Aren't they?"
"I, well," Dr. Cossack stammered. "I, that is... Well, it's difficult to explain..." It was with a meek, "Help?" that Dr. Cossack looked to Dr. Light.
"In my will, I left Dr. Cossack X's design schematics. I left also specific instructions for my good friend. If there was any part of the design he wished to tinker with, then by all means, he was to tinker with it." Dr. Light allowed himself a soft chuckle. "But to be honest, Isaac, I never thought you'd come up with something as remarkable as the Copy System for your two boys."
A multitude of yelps erupted around the table.
"Two?!" someone squawked.
"The Copy System was Isaac's idea?" Dr. Wily's yelp was unmistakable.
"Now, now, everyone, calm down." After what felt like another minute of random stammers of shock, Dr. Light turned to Blues. "Blues, would you be so kind?"
Two fingers pressed to his lips, Blues let loose with a whistle loud enough to make even poor Rush and Gospel, both of whom were on guard duty just outside the door, yowl in protest.
"Now that everyone's back to some semblance of order?" A group glare met Dr. Light's jovial-sounding inquiry. "As I was saying, it is also thanks to Dr. Cossack's brilliance that we have the Guardian Protocol and Failsafe in place."
"Wait, seriously?" Forte demanded, stunned. All the truly important innovations were supposed to have come from either Light or Wily, not from some out-of-nowhere third party scientist.
"Yes, seriously," Dr. Light replied deadpan. Turning back to their Russian compatriot, Dr. Light asked, "Isaac, if you would please?"
"Yes, well, if I must."
"You must," Dr. Cain glared.
Under threat of death-glare, Dr. Cossack stood from his seat. "As sad as it is to say this, yes, I did build Lumine. As to what happened to him, to what drove him to madness, to his despise of humanity – I find I must apologize for that as well. I thought in my ignorance that I had designed a foolproof failsafe to keep them sane. I am, sorry... So, so sorry that it did not.
"Using the design for X that Dr. Light so graciously provided me after his demise, I built two Reploids. One as you know was Lumine. The other... is Axl."
Cold, light, surrounded by darkness. There floating in iridescent form was a humanoid figure curled in on itself, its black robe mimicking the darkness around it.
Why was he out here now? Here, floating out alone in space, hovering in orbit around a blue-green planet. It was a lovely planet made all the more beautiful by the two flairs of color glistening with warmth and hope and love. One was colored a deep wondrous blue with feelings of compassion and kindness as deep as an ocean abyss. The other was a violent red which spoke of blood and death and yet was kind. Oh so kind and gentle to those whom it called its own.
The two colors were linked to him and he to them in an intricate balanced web. The two colors kept him there, stopped him from going higher still. Stop him from leaving them behind.
Interwoven with those colored pillars of emotion, interwoven with himself, was another thing all together. It wasn't quite a person, a being to be labeled a 'he' or a 'she'. It was sentient and had a form, but that form was not fixed. Not specific.
But it was fractured. This other thing which wove itself between he and they felt broken, jagged. He was unafraid of the jagged thing because it alone had been the only thing to comfort him when he had first awoken to nothingness. The fractured thing had spoken to him, had helped him remember enough of himself long enough to go and visit the glorious dual colors in person.
He had asked the broken loop once what its name was. The answer had been simple, if not confusing. "I am the Guardian," it whispered. "I am the Guardian and Failsafe of my charges. Your keeper and protector. Trust in me, my charge, for I am thy shield against oblivion."
Thinking of the dual colors made him whisper in longing. He wanted to go and see them again. They each in their own way had been so happy to see him.
"Hold a little longer, my charge," the fractured and broken thing whispered. "Soon help will be here and the damage will be repaired."
Damage...? Ah. The broken loop he felt inside the weave connecting him to them and them to him spoke of itself. The fractured loop which spoke to him and helped him stay with the glorious lights below – ah, he owed it so much. So then to stay and hold and drink in the beauty that was the Earth, he could do. Would do.
"Hold a little longer, Axl, my charge," the interwoven feeling whispered at him, speaking his name so that he would not forget it.
Soon things would be alright again. Axl held onto that conviction as tight as he could. Soon, things would be alright again.
Elsewhere, in another place, in another time...
The room was deathly quiet. Even Dr. Light had never heard the full story of Dr. Cossack's last – and greatest – creations.
"I built them carefully, cautiously. I modified their designs to implement a device I had only recently worked the errors out of. I called it a 'Mater Transverse Copy Matrix', or the Copy System for short. It would allow a body of a given mass to shape itself completely into another body in a matter of microseconds. Dependent on what excess mass would be available from, say, dust particles or loose bits of metal lying about, the target transformation could be as small as a puppy, or as large as a house. It was truly an ingenious piece of technology...
"But it was dangerous. I had no way of knowing what, if any, mental side effects the Copy System would inflict upon my children. And so," Dr. Cossack shrugged once, limply, "I built a failsafe to be activated at the same moment my children were. Presuming, that is, if they even passed the hundred and fifty year gambit of automated tests their status tubes would put them through."
"Isn't a hundred and fifty years a bit of overkill?" Dr. Cain inquired. After all, X had only needed a hundred.
"No. Not when you take into account the other bit of tinkering I did in regards to the fail-safe's programming."
"Which is?" Roll asked.
"The basic template for the Guardian Program as we know it today," Dr. Cossack sighed. "It was a two part loop program that would run in the background of both Reploid's programming. The first part would constantly check that there were no viruses running amuck in their programming, that they were obeying the Three Laws, and subliminally steer them towards X insofar as being a role model. After all, X would have been awake for fifty years longer than Lumine and Axl would have and thus be the ideal teacher.
"Part two of the loop program would be to check part one and insure things were still running smoothly. As a redundancy measure, the two parts of the program were to constantly check one another regardless of location. That is, the failsafe program inside Lumine's network would check the failsafe program inside Axl's network and vice versa. That way, even if the failsafe became corrupted inside – for example, let us say Axl -- Lumine's failsafe could find and would fix the problem."
"Something busted, then," Forte tactlessly pointed out the obvious. At once, Roll slapped him upside the head, death-glaring him to silence.
"Something busted indeed," Dr. Cossack replied, expression grim. "Lumine awoke before Axl. A good twenty years before Axl. By the time Axl was awakened via Red and his savvy crew, it was already too late. The Lumine I would have happily called son was far too gone, the damage done beyond any hope of repair even through Axl's failsafe copy, and I had no way to save him."
"But you had a way to save Axl," Dr. Wily cut in. "That's why you brought up the Guardian Protocol with me. You and Light, you two conspirators – you got together behind my back and fixed the fatal flaw in that failsafe program!"
"That we did," Dr. Light replied. "Not only was it a positive reinforcement to your attempt at disabling the berserker programming and giving Zero a chance at a normal life, it also nullified the Zero Virus. At least insofar as allowing it to spread."
"Because the background AI has full jurisdiction to use whatever it could in Zero, X, and Axl's systems to do whatever it had to, to stop any form of program degradation. Up to and including shutting down parts of coding." Dr. Wily sat back in his chair with an exhaled, "Whomph."
Dr. Cain sat silent in his chair for quite a while. Not too far in the near future, he would be able to rectify his mistake of having downed every last drop of alcohol in his flask by curling up with a jug of moonshine. But for now, he had to live with sobriety.
"Let me see if I've got this straight. The Guardian Program and Failsafe which is currently holding Zero's, X's, and Axl's joint sanity together via a three way telepathic circuit," and boy hadn't that been an Ancient trick to throw in there, "resulted from Dr. Cossack messing with X's blueprints."
"Yes," Dr. Cossack admitted.
"That same program is sentient and sane in and of itself because of its need to keep X, Zero, and Axl from loosing their marbles due to any form of interference, be it as mundane as a mad scientist cracking open a skull or two, or something as destructive as a Maverick virus strain."
"If I followed what dad and Dr. Cossack were saying during design and install, then yep," Blues agreed. It had been such a fun little jaunt with Dr. Light, Dr. Wily, and Dr. Cossack a year or so ago. Sneaking past Ancient doormen to get down to the mortal plane had been entertaining. True, seeing what Axl looked like after Lumine had tentacle whipped him but good had brought to mind some of his scarier forays into in-depth internet culture... But it really had been a fun trip. He'd gotten to see X, after all. Any trip was a good one so long as he got to see his littlest sibling safe and sound.
"...And Axl is Cossack's only living relative of robotic nature that we know of."
"Which leaves us one Lumine-sized problem," Roll summed up.
There was another long bout of silence.
"Alright," Dr. Cain got to his feet. "I, for one, need a drink. Otherwise I'm going to be too sober to help think up some kind of counter-strategy to whatever the hell Lumine and that half-descended nut job Anubis are cooking up. Cossack, my friend, how about we go break out that keg of Russian vodka your good ol' boy Ringman managed to brew up?"
"And while you're getting drunk, Thomas and I will see if Oma is available to chat," Dr. Wily explained, also standing.
"Blues and I will try and get a hold of Skarra," Rock volunteered. "Maybe he's got some information Oma doesn't?"
"I'm going to go make sure they get back here," was Roll's excuse as she dashed out the door.
"And I'm going to be a good boy for once and give my girlfriend a hand." With his creator giving him a look of utter disbelief, Forte dashed after Roll.
Soon enough, the room was empty save for Dr. Light and Dr. Wily.
"Thomas?"
"Hum?" Dr. Light replied, already half distracted with a handheld communications unit of some type.
"Do you ever get the feeling all hell is about to break loose?"
"When it comes to situations like this, Albert," Dr. Light looked up from his tinkering, his expression dour, "All hell has already broken loose. The only thing we can do now is circle the wagons, so to speak, and ride out the storm as best as we are able."
Dr. Wily gave his long-time friend a long, measuring look.
"I hate it when you're right."
With that, Dr. Wily got to work.