Zero's legs were beginning to tire after walking down three flights of stairs. He was headed to Wiedl's office, which was located underground in a little-known area of the Maverick Hunter Headquarters. Zero's crimson boots tapped loudly against the cold steel stairs as he advanced gradually to the secluded office.
The tapping of Zero's feet came to a halt when he noticed a large figure standing at the bottom of the stairs. His body was of a light orange hue, with black trimmings. His metallic face was shimmering gold and shown a face of a deranged sort, with large blue eyes and an awkwardly-shaped smile. On his head was an strangley shaped helmet, with the MHHQ insignia plated on it.
Zero smirked. "Hey, Wiedl. Looks like you've been waiting for me, eh?"
The large reploid gave an idiotic smile. "Still got that hippie hair, Zero? You know that Hunters shouldn't have hair as long as that. Certainly is a weakness on the battlefield. A Maverick could just sneak up on ya and pull you down to the ground. Then you're helpless. We don't want that, now do we, Zero?"
Zero shrugged. "Hell, it depends. I might want that to happen if I was a retarded monkey. But fortunatley for me, that ain't what I am. So Wiedl, in the future, please refrain from giving me advice I don't give a crap about."
Wiedl laughed it off, not realizing the seriousness of Zero's words. "Heh heh heh... you'll never change, Zero..."
A former general in the Maverick Hunters, Wiedl was dishonorably discharged after being put on trial for an extreme felony (so horrible that it was forbidden of any Hunter to speak of it). However, Dr. Cain was quick to forgive and gave the ex-general a second chance, granting him a job in project development and occasional janitorial work. Over the years, however, Wiedl lost much of his saneness and became sort of a reploid reject. Through this, he gained a rather awkward and moronic personality, which he expressed mostly to Zero. It seemed that he still felt superior to the Crimson Slayer.
Zero grew a bit impatient. "Let's just get to the point. What is it you want? You've been calling and calling me constantly for the past 4 weeks."
Wiedl's face became stern and serious. "Yes, of course. As you know, I'm working on a secret project for the good doctor. And finally, after a long peroid of investigation, he's given me permission to reveal it to a trusted Hunter. I've chosen you to be that Hunter, Zero."
"Whoo hoo. What an honor," Zero said nonchalantly.
Wiedl motioned towards a large door behind him. "Let's resume this discussion in my office. I'd rather not have anyone hear us."
Zero followed the ex-general into a small, cramped-in room that looked more like a janitor's closet than an office. Dirty clothes were piled on the stained floor (Reploids wear clothes? Zero thought to himself), which looked matted and worn. A small mattress was placed in the back left corner, along with suspicious looking magazines (Zero had an idea of what they were) and a large mop planted next to it. On the wall were several large cracks and a few 20th century Star Trek posters. In the middle of the room sat a small desk with a dirty, aged computer and a threshold of unorganized papers. The worst part, however, was the smell. It was like a mix of decomposing rats and rotted skunk cabbage, and Zero almost felt like he was going to suffocate.
Wiedl took a seat behind his desk and smiled. "Sit down, Zero. It may take me a little while to find my necessary files, and I know that patience isn't your thing."
Though Zero was a bit reluctant, he sat down on the old wooden chair in front of the desk. It almost felt like the chair was going to cave in under his weight, but luckily it managed to maintain itself. But either way, Zero felt mighty uncomfortable sitting in that room. In fact, he always did - Wiedl was a weird fellah, and the damaged parts of his metallic brain might cause him to do something sudden and highly idiotic. But Zero, having almost a sixth sense with his antics, was ready for anything.
Wiedl's seemingly endless paper rummaging finally came to a halt. "Alright, Zero... the files are all here. But I think we need to have a small discussion first."
Zero gave a sigh. Here we go....
Wiedl cupped his hands together on the smooth desktop. "Now tell me, Zero... what is combat?"
Zero flashed Wiedl a look of puzzlement. "What's the point of asking me a question like that?"
"Just answer the question."
Zero rolled his eyes and thought for a minute. "Err... umm I guess it's like... y'know, fighting in battles and stuff like that I don't know the exact meaning, Wiedl."
Wiedl gave a hearty and imitating laugh that annyoed Zero tremendously. "Hah! You've been fighting for all these years, and you don't know the exact meaning of combat?!" His laughing ensued.
Zero had had enough. "Wiedl?"
He stopped laughing. "Err.... yes?"
"No offense.... but shut up."
The cheriness in Wiedl's face was replaced with a look of slight embarassment. "Y...yes. Sorry, Zero." He sighed. His moment of glory had ended in an instant.
"Now please, Wiedl. Can we focus on the plan? Pop quizzes on the 'meaning of combat' aren't gonna get us anywhere." Zero said. "I'd like to get back to the main floor as soon as possible."
"Well, of course." Wiedl cleared his voice with a tone of authority. "Dr. Cain recently gave me a rather interesting project. In fact, I find it highly unusual that the doctor would give me a project as important and classified as this one. I almost refused to take part in it, feeling that I was not qualified for such a task. I'm still in shock that Cain would trust me with anything important."
Zero nodded his head. "Ditto. So what is this project, exactly?"
Wiedl shuffled through his papers and continued. "The project involves a highly intracate task. The main objective is to locate Sigma's fortress."
Zero wasn't sure if he heard correctly. "Wait... you're telling me that the project is to find Sigma's fortress?"
"Prescisley."
"...Sigma?"
"Yup."
"...El Sigmatica?"
"Err...yeah."
"...Sigma, evil reploid mastermind?"
"YES."
"....sorry, I still don't quite understand the situation..."
"Yes, Zero. I realize that it's quite hard to believe. But you have to listen to me..." The seriousness in Wiedl's voice seemed to rise. "I have recently detected a powerful energy signal at point 1800F77. It's not definite if it has to do with a fortress, but the energy is certainly peculiar."< p>Zero nodded his head. "And what does this have to do with me?"
Wiedl shrugged his bulky shoulders. "Nothing in particular. Just thought you would be interested."
A frown of frustration formed on Zero's face. "You made me come all the way down here just to tell me that? It's kinda intriguing, but you don't have much proof that it has anything to do with Sigma or any Maverick activity."
Wiedl gave a large grin. "I never said I was finished, Zero. You need to improve in the listening department." He reached for a small photograph which lay face down on the upper righthand corner of his desk. He turned it away from his face so that it would face Zero. "Take a look at this."
Zero snatched the picture and examined it. It was a slightly fuzzy black-and-white pic, with small black markings seemingly far off in the distance. The bottom half of the photo displayed what looked like miles and miles of sand, most likely a desert. The black blotches in the backround roughly represented a few strangley group building things that Zero had to squint to see clearly.
"A... fortress...?"
Wiedl gave a smug chuckle. "Well, Dr. Cain and I believe it may be something like that, but we aren't quite 100% sure yet." He snatched the picture quickly out of Zero's hands, put his gigantic legs up on the desk, and studied the photo with beaming pride. "Hee hee. Cain's spyderoid worked like a charm..."
Zero looked a little confused. "Spyderoids? Cain makes them?"
The gargantuan reploid flashed a grin. "Of course he does. In fact, he invented the little buggers not too far back. I believe that the company who makes them now receive all of their design ideas and materials directly from the good doctor." He glanced up to the ceiling. "I love those little things. They can track down and photograph almost anything with great ease, and the victim won't even realize the thing is there. Once I found these readings, Cain gave me permission to send a spyderoid straight to the scene. I knew that a job like this would need a well-trained 'roid, so I sent down Weedo."
Before Zero could ask who 'Weedo' was, his question was answered in a brief moment. A small red-and-white mechanical spider hopped its way out from under Wiedl's desk and landed on his lap. It curled up a bit in his warm robotic body, and it looked like it was quite comfortable.
"Meet Weedo, my new pet spyderoid," Wiedl beamed. "Dr. Cain developed him just for me. He keeps me company and cheers me up when I'm feeling low. He also took that fine picture you saw just a minute ago." He stroked the small spider as if it were his pet kitten.
This was getting too weird for Zero to handle - he was in a small, rancid - smelling 'office' with a deranged, crusty and mentally disturbed ex-Hunter general who was stroking a small mechanical spider who he claimed was his 'pet'. He knew that he had to get out of there, and fast.
Zero sprung up, Wiedl's attention still locked on his little eight-legged friend. His boots clashed loudly with the harsh stone floor below him, causing the ex-general and his pet to break out of their loving gaze.
"Sorry Wiedl, but I think I need to get going. I need to... uh.... wash my hair. Yeah, that's it! This dandruff has been killing me lately, and I've needed to wash my hair thouroughly twice a day. I hate having to leave one of your exciting lecture sessions, though... they're always a blast, let me tell ya..." The desperation in Zero's voice seemed to increase as he spoke.
He gave a small wave as he spun around. "Bye, Wiedl. Bye, Weedo..."
As he spun, Zero's hair flew right in front of Wiedl's face. Before he could walk off, Wiedl grabbed his large blond ponytail and tugged on it as hard as he could until Zero's crimson body hit the floor. Zero clutched his aching head as if he were suffering 80 simultaneous migranes.
Wiedl looked down on Zero and chuckled. "See what I mean, Zero? You've gotta train more and be prepared for these things, because I'm certainly not going to announce them. And neither will your enemies." He gave Zero a small salute as his crimson body lay there, fuming with silent rage. "Goodbye, Zero. Train hard now."
Zero slowly regained control and managed to lift himself up from the ground and stumble his way out the door. He decided to head over to his room and take a long, peaceful nap - he certainly needed it.
Sigma seemed to feel a little relaxed as his computer screen came to life. Keeping the rookie Mavericks under control was one thing, surveying the revival of a reploid that could one day destroy humanity was certainly another. He was sitting in a small armchair not too far away from the room where Vile was being recovered by his technicians, who at the time needed total concentration on their work. Sigma had recently checked in on their efforts, and was delighted to see that they had managed to successfully recover Vile's lost memory chip and convert it into a newer and more durable one. The Lord of the Reploids would soon achieve his ultimate goal. Or so he hoped.
The screen of Sigma's laptop opened to a teal backround with many shortcuts placed neatly on the screen. While logging on to AOL, he was greeted by one of the clumsiest X-Hunters in the fortress, Commander Violen. His usually fearsome face had a large dent in it's side, given to him by Admiral Agile himself. He had been running down the blisteringly long hallway behind him, and his fatigue certainly showed it.
"Master Sigma.... I've been ordered to give you the rookie training report."
Sigma grunted.
"Err... sir?"
Sigma nodded his head. He was typing on his laptop dilligently.
Violen's wide metallic face displayed confusion. "Master Sigma... what are you doing?"
Sigma spoke with his eyes glued to the flashing screen. "I'm writing the Hunters an e-mail."
Violen was taken aback. "An... e-mail? But you can't reveal any information to them! They're the enemy - they'll find out about you - about our plan...."
Sigma chuckled. "Commander, do you honestly think I could possibly be stupid enough to reveal information as classified as that? No... I'm not writing this to tell them anything that would lead them on... I'm just going to toy with them a bit. I'm entitled to a little bit of fun now and then... and dammit, I've been frickin bored lately. It disturbs me that those lousy technicians can't just let me in on exactly what they're doing... jackasses...." Sigma trailed off into a rattling mumble as he continued to type.
The Commander was a bit confused, but still aware of his duties. "Well... the rookies of our army have been training dillegently, Master. The one that wears the purple visor seems to be advancing the most, though. He carries out almost every ordered task flawlessly, and doesn't even seem to tire. The other three are having trouble catching up to him."
Still content with his work, Sigma simply waved him off. "Yes, yes... continue with... whatever you're doing..."
Violen's curiosity took him over again. "Err... Master Sigma? What are you writing to them?"
"It's a simple threat. Just to make them jitter a bit." He gave a frustrated sigh. "Now leave me to my work. Go on and meet up with your fellow X-Hunters. I'm busy."
"Yessir..." The pudgy Commander took his leave. After a few minutes of typing, Sigma's work was completed. He beamed with pride as he re-read his well-planned threat to the Maverick Hunters.
Hello, Maverick Hunters. Tell me, are you back on the case? If so, goody goody! A little warning... soon enough your pitiful lives will be destroyed, your dreams of peace shattered, your every ideal of a better world with reploids and humans living together in peace will be thrown on the ground and spat upon. I advise you to watch your backs, because we will strike whenever they are turned. Our domination will be your demise! ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US! (Sigma retched when he saw this little spelling error and corrected it immediatley) Goodbye for now, fools!
--Mars, the Bringer of War
Satisfied with his work, he went to click the "send" button when a sudden, thundering shake sent his laptop sailing toward the ground and hitting the tiling violently. The shaking lasted only for a few seconds, but it was enough to thoroughly disturb the Maverick leader. Sigma was left in a state of shock before a short, stocky reploid technician opened the door to face him.
"Heh heh... sorry, sir. One of our co-workers dropped a large piece of scrap metal, causing the ground to shake. Don't worry, it won't happen again..." He hurredly closed the door before Sigma could respond.
Feeling a mix of anger and confusion, Sigma strattled over to where his beloved laptop had taken it's fall. He was relieved to see that everything was intact as he bent down to take a closer look. After returning to his seat, however, he realized that his precious death threat to the Hunters had been mysteriously deleted. This sent the scarred reploid fuming with rage, uttering almost every curse imaginable. Some of the passing Maverick mercenairies gave him awkward and confused looks. Sigma didn't seem to notice or care.
He managed to regain control of himself after releasing a truckful of cussing. Un-freakin'-believable. How am I supposed to threaten the Hunters if I just lost my whole file? Oh well... better improvise.
Sigma, wasting no time, typed up a single threatening sentence and immediatley sent it to the Maverick Hunters' e-mail address. It's not exactly what I want, Sigma thought, but it'll do.
"OWWW!!!! Jezziz lawezziz, that friggin HURTS!"
"If you keep fidgeting like an idiot, it'll hurt even more."
Glacier Dragoon was sitting on the padded flooring in his room, newly repaired and previously dismissed from the MHHQ Repair Center. A slim, brown-haired human male was seating beside him, patching up some of the blue reploid's wounds. He was Mick, an expert in reploid repairs and a long-time pal of the Hunters. He was always ready to assist Jenn in the Repair Center, taking care of almost any injured 'ploid with great ease. Jenn had ordered him to keep tabs on Glaicer and take the liberty of bandaging his wounds.
Glacier's screams began to grow louder. His bruises may have been healed, but they still hurt like hell.
X, who was seated by Glacier's computer, was the first to chime in. "Glaish! Would you keep it down, please? I'm kinda busy, and I don't need to hear you wailing like a demented banshee."
The blue-clad dragoon still couldn't help his moaning, though he tried to suppress them as much as possible. He was still in a bit of shock that his own brother could attack him in such a fierce manner. It still bothered him a bit, as Magma hadn't really been heard from since the incident. He tried not to let it get to him too much, but he couldn't help it.
Mick's bandaging was steadily getting more painful to the ice reploid, and he continued his pitiful moans of agony.
"Why... why was I programmed to feel pain....?"
"Quit yer whinin'," Mick snapped, "or I'll bring out the iodine. That'll sure be fun."
Glacier felt a little frightened by that remark, and Mick could tell. "Fine then," he said, "I'll tell yeh what. I'll give yeh some of this stuff." He pulled out a small azure can, with a picture of a stupid-looking human giving a large smile. "It looks crappy from the outside, but it reduces the pain in reploids a great deal. Here, drink up. It might stop yer moaning."
Taking it in his claws, Glacier studied the can for a minute before reluctantly taking a sip. It tasted like a mix of rat puke and that horrible flouride stuff your dentist gives you sometimes. He gagged a great deal before unwillingly swallowing the whole thing. The taste still was fresh against his tounge.
"Yeech! What in the name of jahosophat is in that crap?" Glacier queried as he attempted to banish the awful taste from his mouth.
Mick smirked. "Better that you not know. The important thing is that it'll help yeh out a great deal.... hey, what're yeh doin???"
Glacier was taking a good long stare at the back of the can, reading it's ingredients with a look of horror on his face. He looked back at Mick and gave him a disgusted frown.
The slick repairman shrugged his shoulders. "Well... I hate to say I told yeh so..." he said matter-of-factly, "but I told yeh so. Listen, think about what this stuff will do for yeh rather than what's in it, and I'm sure you'll feel much better. Just relax."
Glacier mumbled some thing about 'pig-fetuses' before calming down and sitting still. The strange liquid was beginning to take its effect, which iced (bad pun...) the dragoon's nerves. While Mick resumed to tend to Glacier's wounds, X was still busy on the computer.
"Crappy AOL.... 'invalid port'... I'll give ya an invalid...."
X continued his angered murmuring as he finally managed to log on to Glacier's clumsy AOL account. The Hunters all shared an e-mail account, which meant that only one Hunter could check mail and whatnot at a time (thanks to Cain's cheapened budget). It was X's designated hour of online freedom, and he intended to take advantage of it.
While purusing through his email, X noticed a strange letter that had been recently sent. The subject read "Guess what?". Though he knew that it might just be another car insurance offer, he couldn't help but be curious of what the "what" was.
X opened the message and read it quietly to himself. "'You gonna die'... signed Hades, the Lord of the Underworld. Yeaaah..." He found pleasure in deleting the moronic waste of space and turned to face Glacier.
"So Glaish, heard your brother gave you that." X stated.
Glacier felt a bit nervous. "...gave me what?"
"That injury."
The dragoon stammered. "Err... yeah, it was my brother. But it was just an accident while training, he didn't do so intentionally." He took another gulp of his pain medicine to calm his nerves so that X wouldn't begin to arouse suspicion. Mick gave a frustrated grunt as Glacier mistakably snapped some of his bandages from his fidgeting.
Before anyone else could comment, the door of the room was kicked open by a large, crimson boot. Zero stammered in, helmet in his arms, looking exausted and flustered, with his untidy helmet-hair sticking up in all directions. He smiled when he saw Glacier.
"Glacier, nice to see ya! While I was on my way back up, Jenn told me you were here." He switched his glance to Mick. "Nice to see you too, Mick. Looks like you got your work cut out for ya."
The scruffy-haired technician smiled back at Zero. "You kiddin'? This injury is nothin' compared to the stuff I had to deal with during the Reploid Wars. I've re-attached severed metallic heads to their charred torsos, fer Pete's sake. And I made 'em fully functional, too. Though I've never had a patient who wailed as badly as this guy, though." Glacier flashed a look of guilt.
Zero gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah... he has a tendency to do that. I've heard him wail like a little girl sometimes. There was this one time..."
"ZERO! Please, that's enough!" Glacier snapped. His usually cheery face had twisted into a mixed look of rage and embarrassment. Mick once again ordered the dragoon to stay still, this time giving him a small whack to the head with his open palm.
Forgetting about the situation, Zero stammered over to the corner of the room where he limply collapsed onto a small bed on the side of the room. He engulfed his face in it's cushy warmth and closed his eyes, obviously intending on taking a nap. X suddenly remembered something.
"So, Zero... how was your date with Wiedl?" X asked smugly.
The Crimson Slayer moaned. "Ugh... that guy is a psychopath."
X smirked. "Brilliant discovery."
Zero sighed. "He really saddens me, though. He has a small spyderoid as a pet named 'Weedo'. Seems to be in love with the thing. And his office hasn't gotten any tidier." Zero immersed himself further into the cozy mattress. "He did mention something kinda peculiar, though. Apparently, Cain gave him this assignment dealie to track down the hideaway of good 'ol Sigma himself. Go figure."
This remark caught the attention of both X and Glacier. X, however was the first to speak. "Are you serious? Cain would trust Wiedl with something like that?" He sighed. "I guess the good doctor must have been drinking his lovely moonshine again..." X made a silly gesture to make it look like he was chugging a bottle. He gave a small chuckle to himself.
Zero gave him a puzzled look. "Well, either way, it's an oddity. He seems to have located a formerly secluded desert that has displayed a powerful energy signature. Not only that, but he sent his little pet spyderoid to take little pictures of the scene. He showed me one of the photos, and it looks like there is something there. Wiedl needs to do more research before we can plan anything, though, which may take a while. What a friggin bummer."
Mick had been listening in. "Wow. Sounds like we might be plunging into war again. That is, if this fortress thing exists."
Glacier was quite interested. "I wonder what this might lead to."
Zero, still glued to his little mattress, gave his shoulders a weak shrug. "Who knows? I guess all we can do is wait and see." He released a small sigh. "It better not take too long, though. From the crap that's been thrown at me this week, I've had a weird urge to stick my beam saber through something good and solid."