MEGA MAN X: THE SOUND OF MAVERICKS
By Erico
CHAPTER EIGHT: A PRELUDE TO THE VOID
"Wake up, sunshine." Bastion flipped his eyes open and looked around himself. He was in his room, and the only difference was the figure of Bristol, her arms in her lap as she sat in a chair beside his bed, watching him intently. Bastion shook his head, and noticed his helmet had been removed.
He sat up and reached for it beside his bed, by the lit lamp. Snapping it on, he looked at Bristol, his puzzled face searching for an answer. Bristol shook her head.
"Bastion, you had a nervous breakdown during your training session with Gavin." Bastion frowned, remembering the event. And then after that-it was all a blank. A big, dark-and FRIGHTENING-blank.
"Yes. So why am I here?" Bristol shut her eyes, but her sad expression still carried to him.
"It's a psychological problem you have. Hazil wanted the bedspace back." Bastion shook his head, still feeling out of place with everything around him.
"That sounds like something Hazil would do." Bastion lifted himself from the bed, looking down at Bristol, who finally got up as well.
"So what are you doing here then?" Bastion asked. Bristol shrugged.
"I dragged your sleeping carcass from the Medical Bay to here. Then I watched you rest." She smiled just a bit. "Not exactly the most enjoyable activity. Kind of like watching paint dry." Bastion rubbed his hands together and looked at the clock.
"So. I guess I'd better get off to my Unit." As he began to walk, Bristol's firm hand pushed against his chest, stopping him. Bastion looked down at the arm in surprise, then up at her dark face.
"Doctor's orders, Bastion. You're off the team." Bastion blinked, not quite grasping what she had said. Then he finally sat down, letting it sink in.
"I-I'm on the injured list?" Bristol nodded.
"I know it hurts, Bastion. But we can get you off of it." Bastion shook his head.
"How?" Bristol set her teeth.
"All we have to do is get you back to the way you were before you were attacked five days ago. A perfectly competent Hunter, able to wield your beam saber with the deadly efficiency we all know you can." Bastion guffawed.
"Oh, come on. I am not affected! I'm perfectly fine!" Bristol's eyes flared into life, and she looked down at him.
"No. You're not, and you're a boor for thinking otherwise." Bastion growled at her.
"I mean it, Bristol. I'm fine." Bristol shook her head, then held out her hand.
"Give me your saber." Bastion thought for a moment, then pulled the handle from its charger on his back and tossed it to her. Bristol held it firmly in her left hand, then lit the blade. It thrummed to life, and continued to have a steady sound.
The mere sight of the purple blade froze Bastion in place. His eyes locked onto it, then glazed over. His mouth fell down, and he began to shake.
Bristol quickly extinguished the weapon. In a few moments, Bastion recovered, although a thin layer of sweat was on his brow.
"Wha-what happened?" Bristol gave him a look of annoyance, and then it dawned on Bastion.
"Ahh, Gawd." He sat down again, then put his head in his hands. "It was like you turned into them. Bristol-you were right." Bristol snorted.
"Of course I was." Bastion shook his head.
"So now what?" Bristol chucked the handle at his head, solidly connecting and leaving a small dent in his helmet. Bastion yelped and leapt to his feet. Bristol put her hands at her side.
"You're a Hunter, Bastion. If you want to be one again, then training's your only ticket." Bastion wiped the sweat from his face.
"But I'll still glitch out when someone lights a saber!" Bristol quietly brought up a hand to his face, cradling his cheek. Bastion, his face pleading for aid, looked into the soft eyes of Bristol.
Those soft warm eyes.
Bristol smiled.
"Bastion, you helped me get over my lost memories by your caring. Now it's time for me to repay the favor." She flashed a brilliant smile, two perfect rows of synthteeth glaring the room light. "I'll take you into training. Until we can get you back to the way you were, we'll work nonstop. All day and all night." Bastion finally blinked after a long pause.
"Thank you." Bristol nodded, then stepped away. Her hand dropped from his face, and she laughed.
"I'm more than happy to help, Bastion. After all, what are friends for? I'll see you in the rec room in thirty minutes. I suggest you get some staples down your gullet." Bristol left his room, twirling about in a perfect 180 with her hair swinging from the motion.
His door shut.
Bastion breathed. The fear had left him when she smiled at him, held his head in her hand-
"You are my friend, Bristol." Bastion finally uttered. He looked down at the saber on the floor, then picked it up and slipped it in his recharger. Time for breakfast.
But Bastion felt a nagging thought at the back of his head.
Was there a stronger word besides friend that could be used for the two of them?
In the dim light of a room, far away from the bustle of cities, humans, reploids and prying eyes, a figure waited patiently.
A computer screen was the only light in the square space, and the soft whirring of the computer's electronic circuitry was the only sound within.
The pale green and blue coloring of the monitor did little to improve the lone figure's outline.
Then, a knock at the door. The lone figure raised its head, cloaked and hidden from direct view by a thick woolen covering. The door swung open, and a reploid walked in.
It's eyes seemed glazed over, preoccupied with something or other-or it could have been in a trance. Nevertheless, it walked in. The hidden figure didn't move from its seat.
"Well?" It rasped. It was male, but ragged and worn, and slightly distorted with what seemed to be a second voice layer with the first one.
The reploid who had just walked in lifted its hand. In it was a computer disk. The sitting figure nodded for a moment, and his hidden face flashed, a pair of eyes blazing into life.
"Aha. The new data." The hypnotized messenger dropped the disk on the desk beside the cloaked demon. Eagerly grasping it with an odd hand, the figure slipped it into his disk drive and uploaded it to his main file.
"Hmm." Another raspy growl. The head turned for a moment, its eyes flashing at the motionless figure waiting for its next order. "You're dismissed." The sitting figure finally waved his hand, and the reploid messenger turned about, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
This was a secluded location of an outpost base. No one would expect to find them here. The figure cackled for a moment, then peered at the new data intently.
"Hmm. Four days from now, they're sending a bunch to Calcutta, eh?" The gnarled hand tugged at the chin of the figure's head. "Let's see if there are any who are worth recruiting-or killing."
The list went by slowly. Names were accompanied by photos and physical, as well as psychological statistics.
The figure's eyes narrowed. An average list at best. Whether this one should be used or not was highly debatable.
And then, a trump card in the mix.
"WHAT THE-?!" The figure leapt to its feet, not believing its eyes. It looked closer. "He's not in his armor, but we would know him anywhere. Yess. We know him very well, don't we?" The figure sat back down, letting its fingertips rasp against the desk. "This certainly does change the situation a lot. If we could get him back, the mission would be much easier." More head scratching, then it slammed its fist into the desk frame.
"Oh, yes. We will visit them as they go." The figure stood up, pulling its cloak tighter about itself. "The revolution fast approaches."
"START!" Bastion's arm snapped up, the X-Buster slipped onto it whining into life. As Bristol shouted the beginning, his eyes narrowed and he tried to focus.
The targets popped into view, and Bastion whipped the Buster around as best he could. He shot, and shot again.
More targets. Hits and misses.
And then the klaxon sounded, ending the simulation. Bastion lowered his arm.
The targets faded from the dark room, and lights turned on. Once more he was in a holo-box, with a door and window at the side.
The door opened. Bastion turned to face the person walking in. Bristol crossed her arms and bit her lip.
"You got fifteen of forty." Bristol shook her head. "On your worst run, you managed to hit thirty." Bastion breathed heavily, the anger within building up.
"I'm not making it." Bastion yowled again. "I'M NOT DOING IT!" He raised his Buster and fired a shot into the wall. It fizzled for a moment, leaving a dark scorch mark. Bristol sighed.
"Bastion, you're not yourself. I've never seen you take out an enemy by screaming your head off, whipping a war cry and being a damn fool." Bristol raised a finger. "The warrior I know you were and will be again was calm, cool and collected. You never make a false move, you plan your attacks. When you go in, you're always watching for a sneak attack, you never get too caught up in your own moves. When you faced Gavin yesterday in hand to hand combat, you treated that Issen no different than you would an Ikusa." Bristol used Japanese terms, Issen being a bout, or friendly combat training, and Ikusa being a war.
Bastion tucked his head down.
"Yeah." Bristol nodded hers.
"So? If you can just keep your cool while you're fighting like you did then, you'll find yourself slipping into your old routines, your old ways of operating. If you can do that, you're that much closer to overcoming the psychological block you've placed about fighting with your beam saber." Bastion nodded.
He shut his eyes, breathed deeply for a few moments, and then opened them again. His face placid and focused, he looked at Bristol and nodded.
"Let's try it again."
Bristol went into the control room and activated the simulation again.
The room went dark, and the holographic targets came online once more.
Just then, the door to the Rec Room opened up behind Bristol. She turned around to find herself looking at X. X shrugged.
"Just checking up on him. How's he doing?" Bristol sighed.
"I don't rightly know. If he has managed to retain the calm operational mindset that he uses for battle, then he's on his way."
The klaxon wailed again. Bristol looked down at her tally of the 40 targets. X whistled.
"Thirty two. What was his last score?"
"Fifteen." X grinned.
"THERE YA GO!" Bastion popped onto the intercom.
"Hey Bristol, what's the score?"
"Bastion, you got thirty two." X said loudly. Bastion's eyes went wide in surprise, then he smiled.
"That's good to know. Set me up again. This time, stick the speed and placement on random."
"You sure, luv?" Bristol said, her British accent growing thicker in the sentence of surprise. Bastion nodded, shaking his hair back.
"Positive."
The room grew dark again, and the targets came back up.
Bastion allowed himself a small smile, but kept focused on his task.
The warrior was fast returning.
"They're planning to move soon." Andante said calmly, leaning up against the frame of the door. His head was turned outside, watching the desert sands blow about, each time being deflected away from the hut he and Allegro inhabited by the energy field placed over it.
Allegro was doing maintenance on their beam staffs, the covers off and the wiring exposed. He looked up, his working goggles seeming out of place on his face. He frowned.
"When, exactly?" Andante turned around, but left the door open.
"Four days from now." He took the time, to check his internal chronometer, then shook his head. "Sorry, three days. It's 00:01 hours." Allegro nodded.
"Time seems to be the most unpredictable thing of all. It flows fast when you need more time, and when you wait for an event to happen, it will drag like frozen molasses." Andante smiled softly. "Time is an enemy to all, you know."
Allegro snapped the covers back into place, picking them up one in each hand. He tossed one to Andante, who caught it easily. Allegro lit his weapon, but only one end of it. He held it so the blade lit his face in the darkness.
"I see only one enemy, Andante. The snake. Once more we go to target the body, but we still do not know where the head rests. And as you've said, the head holds the venemous bite." Andante's face darkened, and he nodded. He looked at his counterpart, then waved a hand to the outside.
"Come with me." Allegro followed willingly.
On the outside, but still protected by the solar powered shield, they watched the sand drift. Andante lifted his head, feeling the breeze penetrate the shield and blow onto his face. Looking farther up, his quiet eyes scanned the heavens above, the full moon shining reflected sunlight onto the earth below, and the stars as bright as you could ever hope to see them.
"Allegro, look at the sky." Andante said finally. Allegro followed his brother's gaze, nodding.
"The stars are out tonight. The sky is clear." Andante nodded, folding his arms, the beam staff now secured onto his backpack charger.
"In this desert wilderness, we can see everything. No city lights dim their radiance, no noise pollutes the silence. In this quiet of the storm, we are watchers of infinity." Allegro sighed.
"Do you know what depresses me, brother?" Andante looked over, waiting patiently. Allegro continued. "Here we are, on an earth that is not fully explored yet. The vast deserts still hide secrets from the past we don't know about. The ocean holds wildlife and things that civilization has yet to discover fully. And the vast reaches of space above are just that-space." Allegro shook his head, his face filled not with hatred for once, but sorrow. "The only thing that humanity and reploids have been able to do consistently is bicker, fight, poke and prod one another into conflict." Andante walked over, and put a large hand on his sibling's shoulder.
"Brother, that's why we fight." Allegro looked at him, waiting. "Allegro, we fight so earth can move on. One way or another, be it through death and despair or war, we will settle the score. The snake will be killed, our part of the job will be done." He looked up again.
"Allegro, the stars know joy-kietsu. In time, so will we." Allegro nodded.
"Until then, we fight."
"We will fight."
"Jab!" Bastion threw his fist at command, sending it hurtling towards Bristol. Her hands were up in a defensive posture, holding a thick mitt, and absorbed his fist easily.
By now, they had discarded their bulky armor in favor of more conservative-and less weighty-fighting karate gis. Bristol's was a dark, almost purple blue, while Bastion's was a fiery bronzed brown, the color of the desert he hailed from.
The sweat on their faces, synthetic as it was, worked the same as it did for humans. Only the moisture used to draw out the excess heat was pulled from the air, then solidified into liquid form and used to carry the hot expulsions.
Other noticeable additions to their guises were that Bristol's hair was now tied back with a strip of pink satin, and Bastion's gi had a 21st Unit insignia on it.
Bastion followed up his first punch with his other hand, and then he swung his leg up to meet the block. The leg hit more solidly than his fists, and Bristol stumbled back a bit. Finally, she dropped the thick leather mitt.
"Time." She called out wearily. Bastion took in a deep breath, then released it. His arms dropped to his side, and he pushed his hair back, carefully adjusting the few strands that had fallen over his eyes. Wiping the sweat from his head, he nodded.
"I'm feeling better." Bristol nodded, then motioned to the bottles of water over in a corner of the dojo. They walked over, Bristol taking the time to adjust her hair tie.
"Bastion, we're getting closer to the goal we're trying to achieve. Close combat is working. Next, we'll use metallic sticks to represent sabers. And after that-"
"After that, we do the real thing." Bastion said, uncapping his water bottle and taking a swig. His face was grim, focused.
Getting more and more to his true Hunter state.
"Righty-o, Bastion." Bristol said. "Small steps." Bastion put the water bottle down, his mind buried in thought.
"I've heard that before. That's from a late 20th Century movie-CONTACT. Yeah, starring Jodie Foster. Her father is always telling her, 'Small steps, Ellie. Small steps." Bristol thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"That's not where I got it from." Bastion looked at her, his face questioning.
"So where did you get it from?" Bristol let her face drop for a moment, then shook her head.
"My past. The one I can't remember. Just pieces of lost time." Bastion winced, instinctively wanting to draw her close, comfort her again.
"I'm sorry." Bastion shook his head.
"It's all right. I'm over it now. You helped me out more than you know, Bastion. And a part of that was learning to move on." Bastion crossed his arms.
"Should I move on as well?" Bristol shook her head again.
"Bastion, your place is here. The world needs you-needs the Hunter. My place is not as known as that. Truly, I'm the outcast everywhere I go. But aside from this, there's one place I'll always feel somewhat at home with." Bastion blinked.
"Would that be here?" Bristol smiled again.
"You catch on fast, Yank. Now come on. We have to get you back in shape. Only-23 days left now."
"Right. Twenty three days until the Hunters go belly up." Bastion grunted. "So? What now?" Bristol motioned to the wall of weapons.
"Grab a stick. We're doing saber simulations next." Bastion started to walk over to it, then winced.
"Ahh. Bristol, I'm pretty tired. Let's call it a night. There is tomorrow." Bristol paused for a moment, then nodded.
"I'm getting a bit peckish myself, Bastion. Right then. I'll see you back here at 0900 Hours-That's eight hours from now."
"That should be enough stasis time." Bastion said. He shut his eyes and activated the armory computer's clothing warehouse. Selecting a basic selection, he waited.
The transport was quick, and in less than a second his karate gi was replaced by a pair of gray shorts and a tan brown T-Shirt. Bristol giggled at the ensemble, and Bastion grimaced.
"What? You've never seen a reploid crash in summer getup?" Bristol nodded.
"No. Most just use their armor, or a conservative robe. But YOU-You of all reploids feel the need to wear comfortable clothing." Bastion shrugged.
"It rubs off on you. You hang around X and Cain long enough, you'll end up doing the same. The both of 'em do the same thing. Only X is all blue and Cain likes purple."
They stood, facing each other in the dojo, not sure what to say next. Bastion quietly scuffed the floor with his boot, and then finally spoke up.
"Well, see you tomorrow then." Bristol reacted quickly.
"Right. Tomorrow." Bastion took out of there, and Bristol waited for a few moments.
At long last, she went over and shut the lights off. Bathed in darkness, with only the light from the exit door to shine on her, she curled her arms around herself.
"Bastion, it's more than the HQ that I feel comfortable with. It's you."
"All right members of URFAWP! Let's quiet down here for a moment!" Fyler, one of URFAWP's team leaders stood on a podium, while the squabbling members below didn't listen. Finally, they were silenced by a loud harrumph.
"That's better." He cleared his throat. "I'm Team Leader Fyler. Now, as you all know, URFAWP's main goal is to promote understanding between humans and reploids all over the world. For this mission, you have been training. You've been taking classes to sensitize you, you've been learning social skills to benefit you, and in dire cases, how to escape with your life."
"When do we learn how to flip omelets?!" A voice called out from the back. Laughs filled the room. Fyler waved his hand.
"Now, now. I like a joke as much as the next metallic man, but realize that in here, we have to be more serious." The laughing quieted down, but snickers would still pop up from time to time.
Isaiah and Wycost were in the middle of the crowd, their responses differing greatly. Wycost sat with his arms folded, his eyes hidden behind the wraparound sunglasses that were always with him. Isaiah in turn was on the edge of his seat, calmly listening to every word said. Isaiah turned to face Wycost with a frown.
"Hey, you listening?" Wycost didn't give a verbal response. He just motioned very slowly with his head, a bob up and down. Isaiah snorted.
"I figured as much. Even when you act smug and indifferent, you're always keyed up." Wycost nodded again. "Is that because of the Hunter in you?" Another nod. Isaiah sighed. "You want me to shut up, don't you?"
A very large nod. Isaiah snorted again. "Fine. Maybe you'll learn something from Fyler." Now Wycost shook his head. Isaiah ignored it.
"There comes a time when small steps must be replaced by large ones. From this point until three days from now when all of you will be shipped off to Calcutta, India, you all will be going through group simulated exercises. In these, you'll learn the tiny nuances of mood, approach and other things that you won't get from the small practice sessions."
Silence in the room. Fyler continued, confident.
"I have been with URFAWP since it was created. Because of this, I can answer any question you might have about how to operate. But there are three major steps to URFAWP's mission. One; Arrival. Two; Activation. And Three; Communication."
"These three steps are always followed. It's as crucial to URFAWP as the reploids who volunteer. Now, I'll warn you. At some places and times, you'll run into good opposition. You'll face scorn, riots, revolutions and indifference. At some times, you may even be faced with the possibility of death."
Fyler waited. The shock was still there in their faces. Here and there, a few wiseguys that scoffed at the idea, some other places in the audience, reploids went pale. But then there was one most noticeable of all. Wycost, the troublesome recruit who had been pulled in from Tokyo sat with his arms crossed, defiance apparent and his glasses down. Fyler frowned. A pop quiz after this might be a good idea.
"Nevertheless, URFAWP exists to stop these problems. We halt it before this hatred can erupt, and in worse places we will be called upon to moderate talks for non-aggression. URFAWP's mission is this: No matter what anyone else tells you, no matter what our goal is, it's this simple. URFAWP works towards peace."
Fyler put his hands on the podium, a smirk crossing his face.
"Well, I think it's time to review what I just said. Can someone tell me the three steps of URFAWP's travel plan?" A hand went up. Fyler recognized it as Isaiah, Wycost's more sociable team partner. "Yes, Isaiah?"
"The three steps are Arrival, Activation, and Communication."
"Right you are! It's that simple to remember." Fyler let his eyes scan the room, taknig extra time to see what Wycost was doing. Still looking half asleep. He frowned.
"Well, I think that they have the mass exercises planned. From here, I want you all to convene by the Mess Hall. There, you'll find your group lists and your objective sheets. Each of the groups will be meeting in a different area on the URFAWP compound, where realistic holographic setups for different environments have been constructed. DISMISSED!"
The reploid recruits of URFAWP stood up and began to file out of the hall, one by one, their conversations growing louder.
Isaiah turned to Wycost and shrugged.
"Well, we'd best get going."
"Isaiah, you go on ahead. I need to have a talk with Wycost here." Fyler's voice was stern, and Isaiah was stunned to see the reploid standing above them.
"Uhh-yessir." Isaiah stammered, before bolting. He couldn't help but think just what Wycost had done to bring Fyler's wrath down on him.
Wycost waited, not making a move. Finally, Fyler sighed.
"Get up." Wycost did as he was told, letting his arms drop to his side. Fyler stared at Wycost with his fierce eyes for a few seconds before growling again.
"Take those glasses off." He reached for them.
Wycost's left hand shot up from his waist, blocking Fyler's attempt. Fyler's eyes shot wide open.
Wycost's mouth was calm, an icy cold expression of emotionless demeanor.
"I think they're fine where they are, sir." Wycost released Fyler's hand, and Fyler yanked it back, rubbing it. He glared at Wycost again.
"Wycost, you're a cannon waiting to go off." Wycost didn't respond, and Fyler continued. "Ever since you got here, you've been sullen, quiet, contained and unsociable. Those aren't qualities URFAWP enjoys having in a teammate." Wycost merely stared some more, then finally spoke up.
"Excuse me for being different." Fyler snorted.
"Wycost, if I had my way, I'd boot you out of this outfit! You're not URFAWP material. You're a hot trigger waiting to go off." Fyler shook his head. "Wycost, there are times I wonder just where you came from. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a maverick." Wycost snorted.
He wasn't that far off the mark. He HAD been a maverick, for a time. But he overcame it.
"Sorry to disappoint you, bub. If I was, I would have tried to infect you all by now." Wycost folded his arms. "So, am I dismissed?" Fyler grinned devilishly.
"Yeah. You have a long way to run, though. Everyone's way ahead of you." Wycost shook his head.
"Oh, not quite, Fyler. There are a lot of things you don't know about me." Wycost turned about and spoke up louder. "Why run-when I can DASH?!"
Fyler opened his eyes wider, and then it finally dawned on him.
The backblast from Wycost's boot thrusters sent him tumbling to the ground, spitting out the charred dirt he'd swallowed from the ground Wycost's fuel burst had kicked up.
"WYCOST!!" Fyler screamed. But Wycost was 100 yards away, and vanishing fast. Fyler shook his fist at the screamin' demon, and finally picked himself up.
"Just WHERE did he come from?" Fyler muttered to himself.
"Aah, X! You return once more to my castle in the middle of nowhere." Cossack laughed out loud. X grinned his usual smile and waved a hand.
A second bolt of fire from above blasted down beside X, scattering the minute pebbles Dust Man had missed in his vacuuming. Cossack blinked for a moment in surprise, then rubbed his glasses with a soft cloth.
"Who is your friend?" X looked beside him and shrugged.
"Cossack, this is my close friend in the Hunters. We call him Zero." Cossack sighed.
"Yes. So, you at last bring the fabled final creation of Doctor Wily to meet with me." Zero winced at the remark, but Cossack laughed. "Oh, do refrain from doing that, Zero. I mean you no disrespect. You are X's friend, and therefore mine. Feel free to make yourselves at home."
Zero looked around the darkened interior of the sub-basement complex. He frowned.
"Seems kinda bleary to me. And you're here by yourself?" X giggled.
"Nah. He's got his daughter and his 'bots." Zero raised an eyebrow.
"His 'bots?" X slapped him on the back.
"Oh, come on. Don't you recall the Fourth Wily War? Wily kidnapped Kalinka and forced Cossack to take his robot designs and build 8 killer robots to take out my big brother Mega. Luckily, my even older brother Blues showed up in the knick of time with Kalinka, and things got smoothed out." Zero harrumphed.
"They must be pretty outdated by now." X grinned.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. HEY GUYS! COME ON OUT, I WANT YOU ALL TO MEET A FRIEND!"
X's voice echoed throughout the castle, and slowly they began to emerge.
8 robots, half X's height, steadily making their way towards Cossack and his visitors.
The dim light slowly revealed them, and Zero found himself watching the parade in stunned disbelief.
Even if they were small, their stances were formidable. Zero didn't envy Mega Man having to go up against them all.
One in a large yellow headdress with a snake on it walked up to X and shook his hand.
"Mega Man X. Welcome back." His face was bland, lacking the emotional capabilities of a reploid. But X smiled nonetheless.
"Hello Pharaoh Man. How are you today?" Zero watched as the Robot Master pondered the question for a moment, then nodded.
"I am fine." Pharaoh Man looked over to Zero, then back at X. "I assume that your red counterpart by Doctor Cossack is the friend you mentioned."
"Oh yes indeedy. This is Zero, a fellow Hunter." Pharaoh Man walked over to Zero, sizing him up for a moment with his steely eyes. Finally, he nodded and gave a slight smile, an automatic response programmed into him by the Doctor.
"Zero, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Pharaoh Man, one of Doctor Sergei Cossack's eight Robot Masters. Would you like me to introduce you to the rest?" Zero nodded.
Within two minutes, he knew every one of the robots standing placidly by their creator. There was Pharaoh Man of course, who had the ability to use solar energy and create energy spheres. When charged up, he could produce a wave effect that was strong back in the days of 20XX. Then there was Ring Man, whose two major advantages was his speed and the razor sharp edges of his synthesized Ring Boomerangs. Bright Man, who had the ability to overload optical sensors on robots, reploids and humans with a bright flash from the bulb atop his head, and then spray the paralyzed beings with a spray from his plasma cannon.
There was Drill Man, who aside from being able to throw Drill Bombs, incendiary devices with burrowing capabilities, could also burrow himself into the ground, to pop out underneath his opponents for a sneak attack.
There was Dive Man, who was a fish out of the water. In it however, his spin attack worked wonders. He also carried Dive Torpedoes, which had airborne capabilities as well. A comical snorkel on his head gave the lummox less respect than the bumbling Bright Man, who was quick to use his preprogrammed smile.
Dust Man, who could suck up scattered debris with a giant vacuum over his head and spit it out from his arm vacuum as a clustered mass of metal and dirt. Dust Man was often mute, but when he spoke, he sounded a bit like Eeyore with all his chores.
There was Skull Man, whose only real pro was his high defense capability. Even then, he had to stand stark still to deflect shots. Zero knew in a fight today he'd get fried.
And lastly, there was Toad Man. He had an unusual habit of having to hop all the time, lacking proper leg servos. However, it gave him an enormous height advantage, the ability to reach chandeliers forty feet up. The only attacks Toad Man had ever held was trying to stomp on stuff with his leaps, and the Rain Flush, in which he sent up a missile that laced the near sky with corrosive chemical and activated clouds instantly. The chemical came raining down, burning through metal but leaving human flesh unscarred.
Zero finally whistled at the end.
"A very big lot of robots you have here, Doc. With some upgrading and some training, I could turn them into a real fighting force." Dust Man raised his hand.
"Pardon me, sir Zero: We decided long ago that we would not use our powers for violence. Now we merely keep the castle in working order and run tours of it for the tourists." Zero harrumphed.
"Aah, come on! Admit it, you guys could be GREAT! You could be perfect defenders of Northern Asia, should the need arise." The robots looked at each other, not sure what to make of Zero's ranting.
Cossack finally coughed.
"Zero, what do you mean? The Hunters are earth's defense." Zero shook his head, his face turning dark.
"I mean this, Cossack. The Hunters have Twenty three days left, then the GDC is shutting us down. When that time comes, the Hunters will only be at 10% of their strength now. The world will need more defenders than us, Cossack. And I say that with the right equipment, your 'bots here could be it." Cossack let it sink in, then he turned to face Pharaoh Man.
"Well, Phare? You're the elected bandleader of my creations. They voted you chief speaker. Tell me what you think."
Pharaoh Man quietly blinked, a sign that he was immersed in deep thought.
Time stood still, save for the dripping of water into the underwater tunnels that Toad Man patrolled every third day.
At last, Pharaoh Man nodded.
"Affirmative. If Mega Man X and his friend Zero's collective of peacekeeping Maverick Hunters will have their forces cut, it is logical that a new group should replace it to carry on its work. However, there are several limitations that should be considered." Pharaoh Man waited, then continued. "Our operations area should be limited to the Asian Continent. Aside from that, our tactical responses would be limited and far too late to be of any good. Upgrades will need to be made to our weapons systems and our life support systems to ensure that we will be able to accomplish these goals. If these steps are followed, I believe mission success rates should be acceptably high."
The other 7 robots silently nodded, agreeing with Pharaoh Man. Zero grinned.
"There we go! I'll tell you what. As soon as Hazil gets some free time on his hands, I'll have him come with us and set you up with the upgrades."
"That would be satisfactory." Pharaoh Man said calmly. X put a hand on Zero's shoulder, smiling some more.
"When compared to having a few Hunters instead of the forces we need, anything's satisfactory."
Cossack clapped his hands.
"This will be done later. Right now, I can smell Kalinka's sweet jelly rolls!" X whiffed the air and dreamily shut his eyes.
"Mmm. Jelly rolls." Zero nudged him in the arm with a devilish grin.
"Betcha I can eat more than you can." X chortled.
"YOU'RE ON!"
"Yaaah!" Bastion roared. Swinging down his metallic stick, he tried again to try and smash through Bristol's defensive posture.
Bristol, gritting her teeth as she strained to hold back the blow, finally activated her thrusters and dashed backwards from her opponent.
Bastion followed with his own thrusters, raising his fake saber to eye level with both hands. Bristol, the hair whipping around her face and hiding her left eye glared intensely, trying to measure his movements for a block.
Bastion finally caught up with her, swinging his stick in a horizontal cut. Bristol jumped up into the air, letting the swing pass under her feet before coming back to earth.
She jabbed her own training stick forward, meaning to strike Bastion dead in the chest.
But Bastion dodged the blow by ducking down-and came up from underneath with an uppercut powered stick smash that knocked Bristol off her feet and onto the mat.
Bristol didn't have time to recover before Bastion's training saber was jammed underneath her chin. If she was to move, and if the saber was real, Bastion would have ended her life.
As it was, he pulled back and grinned.
"Set point to Bastion." He said calmly. Bristol wiped the sweat from her brow and shook her head.
"More than that, dearie. You won the match." Bastion nodded.
"Three days can make a huge difference."
"If you use them right."
"So what's next?" Bristol set her eyes on his, eyes filled with confidence and intense pride.
"Next, we give you the real thing." Bastion's eyes flashed for a minute, and he almost lost his mindset. But Bristol steadied him and stared up at him.
"Bastion, you can't lose it. For three days straight you've been practicing, honing the mindset that you always use when you fight. It's time that you took the mindset and overcame the fear inside of you." Bastion nodded slowly.
He stepped away and turned his back to Bristol. In his karate gi, he stood with one hand on the back of his head.
Then confidently, he turned around. Eyes dead serious, he nodded.
A flash of light enveloped him, and when the dust cleared, he was once more wearing the battle armor that he had entrusted his life to, time and time again.
The Powerstorm Armor stood confident, attached to the base of his beam saber recharge unit, wings kept tucked away in their pockets. He looked at Bristol and nodded.
"Let it begin."
Bristol held her breath, waiting for him to accomplish the goal that they both had strived for for 3 long torturous days.
Bastion breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. Then he snapped them open, not losing the icy stare within. His right hand reached up, clutching onto the saber's handle.
He pulled it out slowly, holding it in both hands, the top of the hilt at eye level.
He flipped the switch.
Once more, the fiery purple beam saber sprang to life, an angry serpent of deadly contained energy.
Only this time, Bastion did not freeze up. He stared right at the fury dancing in front of his face, unblinking.
He swung the saber down in a cutting arc, confidently going through the motions of his three step saber slash.
He held it aloft again, then pulled his finger from the switch, letting the saber die out.
Silence reigned over the gym.
And Bastion finally nodded. A confident nod. A nod of success.
"The demons are gone." He said quietly.
"Well, that's good to know. But there's one more thing you could do, Bastion."
Bastion and Bristol turned to face Hazil as he rolled into the gym, smiling widely, if not wearily.
"What is that, Hazil?" Bastion said calmly. Hazil blinked, then opened up his large chest compartment.
With a flourish, he pulled out a metallic cylinder. Bastion blinked.
"That's a beam saber." Hazil shook his head.
"Not quite. Give me yours for a sec here." Bastion complied, flipping his own metallic saber handle to Hazil. The Medical Reploid caught it with ease, then brought a diagnostic tool with his other hand to the hilt.
"Downloading Program Dual threat-done." Hazil muttered. He threw the saber back to Bastion, then held the other saber in his hand.
"Bastion, take this one as well." Bastion complied, but was unsure of what to do with a pair of the weapons. Hazil shook his head.
"It's very simple. Take the bottom of their hilts and place them next to each other."
Bastion did as he was told. When they were within 2 cm of each other, they snapped together with a definitive click.
Then both blades ignited at once. Bastion's purple beam saber and the new blue one streamed from either end of the makeshift assembly, and Hazil grunted.
"Well, we know it works at least. Bastion, I gave you this for two reasons. One, it's a design possibility I wanted to investigate as available for all Hunters. Secondly, you were attacked by a dual beam saber. If you can wield this thing, it will eliminate the last of the demons threatening your sanity."
Bastion nodded slowly, whirling the beam staff about with quiet proficiency.
Then he sped up.
The blue and purple mixed, creating a giant spinwheel of plasma energy. Bastion finally stopped it, holding it at eye level horizontally.
Then he faced the two of them, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity that they thought had vanished forever.
"I am Bastion. I am from the United Arabic Nations of the Mideast. They are a hardy people, for they faced the death of the desert every day. Now, I hold that same rugged spirit within me! I am more than a reploid-I am the desert. I am that power they feared, threatening to scrub their skin off of their bones with my winded sand, the heat that threatens to cook them to death. I am the barren wasteland where no enemy can survive. I AM BASTION-AND I AM THE DESERT."
He switched the sabers off, pulling them apart. Slipping the both of them into the pair of recharge holes on his saber recharger, he nodded confidently.
"I have the both of you to thank for my recovery. You have helped me get through a terrible time in my life, a time which can never be rivalled again." Bastion grinned with his joy.
"From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. You have resurrected me." He nodded.
"You have resurrected the Hunter of the desert."