"I think," said the bulky Violen, taking a sip of his cola, "that the sun revolves around the moon."
Serges didn't say a word. He chose to just remain silent and pretend he was listening. He took a small bite out of his stale grilled cheese sandwich before pressing his cheek back onto his open palm.
"I mean, honestly... we all know those elderly human astrologists and meteoroligists were just a bunch of senile crackpots," the metallic behemoth continued. "There's no real proof that the sun doesn't revolve around the moon. Telescopes are just overpriced pieces of garbage, we all know that..."
How, in God's name, can he continue to senselessly ramble on like this and not bore his poor soul to death? Serges thought. What's in that cola of his? Paint thinner...?
"Then we get to the position of Venus," Violen continued. "Y'see, I don't understand why those idiot scientists of the past never thought of conjouring up a way to destroy that deathtrap of a planet. I mean, really... it just gets in the way of the sun's mystical orbit around the glorious moon. A nuisance."
Just be patient, Serges griped mentally, feeling his sanity slowly slipping away from him. Agile and Darrick will be here any minute... just calm yourself. Sing a happy song in your head, Serges... yes, just drown out the droning... maybe he'll just get bored with himself... maybe even decide to stop...
But Violen didn't stop - rather, his mindless rambling just continued doublestrength. "That's the problem, Serges. It's ALL Venus's fault that we're in this rut of a place! I mean, think about it - Venus has always been pissy with the Earth, what with it being the only planet to give birth to living creatures and be able to maintain their natural balance for billions of years. So, you see, that's the reason why humans are nestled in on this planet. Venus created them, to plague the Earth, out of pure jealousy... that miserable, vengeful wench."
Lord... there's no "happy song" that can possibly drown out this noisy drivel...
"And THAT's why it blocks the sun's orbit around the moon!" Violen loudly continued. "My God, it's so damned obvious now... I can't believe I never realized it before! The reason that it blocks the sun's lunar orbit is because it wants to stop the Utopia! You know what I'm talking about, Serges... the great and almightly Reploid Utopia that will magically come into existence and wipe all of the humans clean off of the Earth when the sun finally collides with the moon! And Venus, being the conniving whore that she is, doesn't want the Earth - or us reploids, or any who are superior to humans, for that matter - to get all of the glory."
Don't go chaaaasin' waterfallsss....
"Lord, it all adds up! That's exactly why the humans never destroyed Venus! Venus is their grand and beautiful mother, the one who breathed life into them and made it their mission to give the Earth a slow, painful death... Venus is the one who prevents them from danger, and completely denies us of ultimately destroying them. They would never go against their Mother Venus... oh, Heavens no...."
Please stick to the rivers... and... and the lakes... that you're uuuused tooo...
"We Mavericks were destined to be created! Mother Earth wasn't stupid - she decided to let the humans live on the planet for a little while, until the overgrown jungle apes finally were able to think on their own accord and manage to grow smart enough to create a species superior to their own. That's where we come in Serges! Really, what's the point of genocide? We should just focus all of our effort and hard work into creating the world's largest and most powerful laser cannon. And then, when those flea biting humans least expect it - KABOOM! So long to Mother Venus and the humans! Hello Reploid Utopia!"
I know that you're gonna have it... have it your way... or nuthin' at... at all....
"Yes, Serges! That's the finality! The definite answer to all the problems facing the planet! We KNOW why the humans are so damned strong, and it's been right under our noses for years! And I'VE figured it out!"
But... but I think... I think you're... moving too... too fasssst....urrgh...
"I can't believe it! ME! I'm officially more intellegent than anyone in this entire building! I could RULE this place with an iron fist if I so wanted to! The Earth is my oyster, Serges! MY OYSTER!"
Ghaaaa.... I CaN't fReAkiN' TAke thiS ANYMorE!!!!
"Jebus Christophola, SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" Serges finally blurted out, his anger all chanelled into that one satisfying yell. "You are NOT the frackin' Lord of the Universe, boyo! The sun does NOT revolve around the moon! If it revolves around ANYTHING, it would be YOUR FAT ASS!"
Violen cowered. "But Serges... I was just trying to..."
"SHUT IT, you overgrown hunk of cancerous toe fungus!" Serges continued, his voice now even more filled with seething rage. "I've had it up to HERE with all of this 'universal prophesy' bullplop! IT'S NOT FREAKIN' TRUE! Venus is not a freakin' living thing with a freakin' brain and freakin' eyes and freakin' ears! It's just an overgrown hunk of rock, covered in acidic clouds. It didn't give birth to the human race! Lord knows what did! So why should people have to listen to some BRAINDEAD VARNISH-CHUGGING IDIOT who can't even tie a goddamned KNOT? Honestly! Do you EVER KNOW when to FREAKIN' SHUT YER TRAP?"
Finally, the bearded scientist cut his ranting short to catch his breath. It wasn't until he glanced down the length of the cafeteria that he realized dozens of eyes were glued squarely on him - he obviously was in too much of a blinded berserker mode to consider that there were legions of his co-workers and other various Mavericks seated all over the room. An eerie kind of silence fell over the room as the steel drones stared shockingly back at their commanding officer. Rather than risk losing any more of his prized dignity, Serges reluctantly, though calmly, lowered himself back into his creaky cafeteria chair and began nibbling quietly on his sandwich once again.
After the eerie silence finally broke, Violen began talking again, his voice now dumbed down to a low whimper. "Oh my... I never realized you were capable of being so cruel, Serges," he whined.
Serges didn't look up; he would rather not look that idiot in the face. "Then you obviously haven't known me for very long, Violen."
The behemoth was confused. "But sir, I've known you for quite a while..."
"I know that, Violen," Serges frustratingly interrupted. "It's a figure of speech. It's just my way of indirectly calling you a moron."
"Oh... okay then," Violen replied silently. The bulky machine never actually considered the fact that just then, he could've just gotten up out of his chair and completely pulverized his commanding officer with relative ease. Serges was pretty damned thankful that he wasn't smart enough to actually do the deed.
Finally, the sound of a door creaking open whizzed through the air. Though to Serges, the sound was more like a trumpet call from the glorious heavens above, as he knew that Agile and Darrick had finally arrived. He and a mildly distracted Violen glanced over to the cafeteria entrance to see the two slender figures slowly ambling over to them, their backs hunched over in an awkward fashion. Thier facial expressions were that of someone who had just plowed through a decade's worth of massive paperwork in twenty four hours. Not only that, but the two were also extremely unsanitary - both were drenched in a sickening mix of mud and leaves, with a unhealthy blend of melon rinds, banana peels, and various pieces of a discarded tire. They stood before the duo sitting at the table, without saying a single word.
"Jeez," Serges began, taking a good look at the two disease bags standing before him. "Just what the hell-diddely-el happened to the two of you? We've been waiting here for half an hour already."
Agile gave him a piercing glare. "You don't want to know, buddy," he grimaced.
"Well, you ought to give us some explanation," Violen chimed in. "At least sit down. You do look kinda worn out."
Pulling a medical syringe out of his head, Agile shrugged his shoulders and reluctantly pulled up a chair to sit down in. Wiping himself off a bit, he motioned for Darrick to sit down as well, who did so in a slow manner. It was then that Serges and Violen noticed the repulsively rank odor that was emitted from the two officers. They held their noses and whined loudly.
"Holy Saint Francis!" Serges exclaimed. "It smells like a sumo wrestler took a friggin' dump on a burning tire!"
"UGH!" Violen yelled back. "Jesus! What were you guys doing? Taking a sewage sponge bath or something?"
"Close enough," muttered an unenthusiastic Darrick. "But, ugh... I'm not up to telling the story. You tell 'em, Agile..."
"No friggin' way," Agile sharply rebuttaled. "I was the one who was tortured the most. I'm very sensitive, you know."
"Well, I'm not exactly as experienced as you..."
"Oh please, don't load that crap on me. Tell the damn story."
"No way! You have a better memory than me, sir. YOU tell it."
"Fine! Fine!" Agile finalized. "But you owe me a beer for this."
"Whatever..."
Wiping a spot of grime off his left arm, Agile cracked his metallic knuckles and began to tell the story. "It all began when Darrick and I met up at the front hall, directly to the right of this cafeteria. We made our way down the slightly narrow hallway, conversing about various things... you know, human kill totals, the Trojan War, the theory that we don't actually exist and that thinking that we do exist creates a parranormal image of ourselves to be implanted in our minds for eternity and that we'll never truly realize how long the string of time and space really extends... you know, normal everyday banter. Then, just as we were heading to the end of the hallway... we... we were..."
"Ambushed," Darrick finished for his colleague.
Serges was shocked. "Ambushed...? By who...?"
"Our own soldiers!" Agile exclaimed in rage. "Can you believe it? There must have been about ten of them... no, fifteen, at the very least. Before either of us could do anything to defend ourselves, we found ourselves stuffed into two individual garbage bags. You see, I myself was actualyy clotheslined, headbutted in the crotch, thrown to the ground, and beaten mercilessly before I was shoved into the bag. Not a pleasant experience..."
Darrick nodded. "They slammed my head agaisnt the wall. Hard." He pointed to a large dent embedded in his helmet. "See this little beauty? That's how hard they were slamming me. Not only that, but they also managed to somehow remove my boots and fill them with raw salmon meat. That's responsible for just a little portion of the repulsive stench that's drifting in the air as we speak."
Violen scratched his head. "Uh... okay. So then what happened?"
Agile grimaced. "Well, here's the worst part of our little "adventure". You see, after they had sealed the bags, they thought it would be fun to let us have a little swim in the fortress's internal underground river - you know, one of the only real sources of water in the middle of this godforsaken desert. So they threw us down into there, from a seventh-story balcony. Now, we all know how horribly polluted that river is, due to the leaking sewage pipe aloof in this building and the carelessness of many our recruits. So, after the two of us actually managed to break free from our impenetrable garbage confinements, we were immediately flodded with a cacophony of toxic waste, raw sewage, disgusting food leftovers, and maybe a hint or two of actual pure water. It was horrific, I tell you - one could even say that Darrick and I were close to an agonizing death, just from the powerfully disgusting stench of it all."
Darrick nodded again. "I managed to get sulfuric acid in my eyes. Not fun at all. My eyes were shot for a little while, and my vision is still a bit blurry." He was right, as his eyes were puffy and painfully reddened.
Serges ruffled his beard in amazement. "So how in Zeus's name did the two of you get out of that horrible mess?"
The violet X-Hunter's face brightened up a little bit. "Well, it must have been some kind of a miracle, let me tell you... y'see, Darrick here somehow was able to grab hold of a large stone on the far right side of the river, off of the shore. Being right behind him, I managed to grab hold of his legs. It was a terrible fight against the current, let me tell you... but amazingly, the current wasn't strong enough to keep us back, and we finally were able pull ourselves out the murky deep and back onto dry land. The only problem, though, was that we ended up in the middle of a long, dark, and uninhibited cavern in the middle of nowhere. Not cool."
Violen was confused. "Then... how did you get back here so quickly?"
Darrick smiled. "Well, that's easy. After Agile and I walked a little ways down the river, we managed to find a service elevator that led directly back to the headquarters. After we got back, we managed to find the little punks who had attacked us sitting around in the recreational center, laughing it up and drinking their share of cheap booze. Damn, were they scared of their skins to see the two of us amble in, with murderous expressions on our faces. You two should've seen it. They were cowering like little babies, crying for their mommas. It was quite enjoyable..."
Agile flashed an evil smirk. "Yeah, we messed them up pretty damn good before we finally had their asses punished. As it turns out, we weren't their targets - they were awaiting some friends of theirs from their squad. They thought we were them. Anyway... the important thing is, we're still alive and well, and they're stuck working in the coal mines for the next year or so."
Serges ruffled through his beard once again. "Uhh... Agile? We don't have coal mines."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well... we do now."
Serges chose to disregard that comment and cut to the chase. "Well, now that we're all here, Agile... could we get down to business, please? We've been sitting here for fifteen minutes, and we still don't quite understand what the real point of this whole meeting is."
Agile nodded, his face returning to its normal sternness. "Yes... well, I've called you all here today to discuss the future of the Maverick Headquarters in light of all of the events that've occured lately. Now, for the first order of business... currently, the very governing of this entire organization is currently at stake. Master Sigma has undergone some sort of bizarre hiatus, and will be unable to stay in proper control of things around here until he's able to face the... erm, "emotional demons" within him. So until then, I'd like to propose that the four of us all rule in his stead. Is that okey-dokey with the lot of you?"
The other three willingly nodded their heads.
"Excellent. Then it's settled," Agile finalized. "Now, onto our second order of business... as you all probably know, there've been numerous reports from our security staff about the increased problem involving spyderiod sightings. This worries us greatly, because Lord knows who those spyderoids could belong to... and if anybody saw anything important going around in here, we could all be very screwed. So what do the three of you propose we should do about this little dilemma?"
Serges spoke first. "Well, I propose that we stick Violen out there. He's a pretty damned powerful fellah, and if he gets wounded... well, I don't think anybody around here would really miss him."
Agile nodded in agreement. "The man makes a good point."
Darrick raised a voice of protest. "Oh, come now... Violen isn't fit for a job like that... he'd probably just forget what the hell he was doing five minutes into his duty. I think we just need to send out some more experienced troops... maybe develop some spyderoids of our own, ones that are capable of seeking out any intruding spy machines and destroy them immediately. That's my two cents..."
Agile turned to Violen. "Violen, my mentally-challenged chum... what do you propose we do?"
The mechanical behemoth didn't respond; rather, he just glared angrily at the three. "You guys are mean," he whined. "I don't like being at the butt-end of everybody's jokes."
Serges chuckled. "Heh heh... yes, my friend, but you're just so easy to make a mockery out of, usually when you have no idea what's going on. Kudos to you for actually noticing it this time around, we were starting to get a bit worried about you."
He and Agile gave a hearty chuckle, with Darrick sitting quietly, not bothering to pay attention to their ridiculous barking. He wasn't joking about Violen's behavior - he was quite serious about it. Violen just lowered his head in shame, making a mental note never to say anything ever again, not matter how much his conscience told him he should.
"Now, now... let's move on," Agile said amidst the chuckles. "Personally, I think it would be wise to take up on Darrick's idea and go with increasing our security strength. I'm going to have to veto the little 'anti-spyderoids' idea, though... I'm too lazy to have to go through with making those little hellions."
Darrick shrugged. "Well... alright, then."
"Good, good," Agile said gleefully. "This meeting seems to be going pretty smoothly... okay, now let's dig deep into some of the more threatening problems facing Maverick HQ. Of course, as you all know, our good friend Vile (or OmegaVile... whatever he's called nowadays) busted his arse on out of here last week, due to the gross incompetence of some of our more... well, expecting... colleagues." He proceeded to glare shamefully at the other three.
"Hey, don't look at me!" Serges chimed in. "I'm not responsible for Vile's behavior. If it was anybody's fault, it was you, Agile. You're the one who didn't keep a close eye on the mechanics."
"Oh, please!" Agile exclaimed in self-defense. "I wasn't qualified for an idiotic job like that! Maybe if you hadn't been such a damned stiff and had been a little more patient with those mechanics, I wouldn't have been stuck with it!"
"Now, hold the phone," Darrick interrupted. "There's no need for petty arguments. We all know very well this is all Violen's fault."
Violen looked up from his tuna casserole. "Whutha...?" he mumbled, his mouth filled with food.
"Yes! It WAS you, Violen!" Serges said, pointing a finger of accusation at the giant. "You're the one who accepted those damned cookies from Vile in the first place!"
"Yeah!" Agile exclaimed once again. "You're completely responsible for his escape!"
Violen whimpered silently. "Don't say that!" he yelled. "Do you realize how tempting those cookies were? If you were in my situation, you would've taken them too!"
"All right! All right!" Darrick interrupted again, this time resting his hands on the shoulders of Serges and Agile. "Just calm down, alright guys? Let's just all admit that we all had a little something to do with this whole ordeal. Let's not be playing the blame game for the rest of the meeting."
The three X-Hunters all admittedly nodded in a state of silent agreement, and the proceeded to shake hands to enforce a truce. They then chose to continue on with thier discussion like normal.
"Okay... now, about Vile again," Agile began. "The last we've seen of him was when he busted on outta here through a glass window, and then dashed at the speed of friggin' light through the desert. Now, this is certainly a cause for worry - lord knows where he could be right now, and with his scaringly new pro-human persona, he could've caused a lot of damage by now. Hell, he could've even joined up with the Hunters."
The other three shuddered at the thought of Vile doing work for the Human Helpers.
"Yes... I know it's not a pleasant thought. That's why we need to act as soon as possible. Now, I've been tinkering with a plan of a citywide search - you know, scouring the entire area and see if we can pick him up somehow. We'll have to hire some undercover men, of course... but I don't think we need consider seeking help from outside sources. I believe a proper spy could be right under our noses, here in the building. We'll find one in due time..." He suddenly snapped his fingers, his face brightening up. "Yes... that's perfect! You three... I'd like you to search the building for anybody who would like to volunteer for some spy work. When you do find someone - no, a trio would work out better - who would be willing to participate, I want you to report back to me as soon as possible. I'm sorry the four of us can't do the work, but I don't believe it would be wise for Mavericks as recognizable as us walking the streets in broad daylight, now would it? So are we in agreement?"
The other three nodded.
"Good," Agile said. "Well, I believe everything's settled. We'll meet after our little spy plan has come into action. You three are dismissed. Remember your duties."
"Pathetic. Pitiful. Saddening. The three words that best describe your combat skills, Simmons."
Magma Dragoon's dark eyes narrowed in on those of Chase Simmons's, a pale, darkhaired young man in his mid-twenties. He possessed something of a scrawny build, with his shoulders bent over and his arms and legs rather meager and bony. Dragoon had recently called him in for a "chat" into his private office, and they both sat on two stiff steel chairs. He feared the dragon reploid sitting before him quite a bit - he was his commander, after all.
"I'm... I'm sorry, sir," he winced in a soft, weak voice. "I... I understand that I haven't been working up to my ability, but..."
Magma scoffed. "Please... spare me, Simmons," he interrupted. "From what I've seen of you lately, this is the best of your ability. Not only are you in constant need of assistance on the battlefield, but you always seem to be frightened by the opposing force, even when they happen to be a weak bunch of nothings. Do you think I want people like that in my unit?"
"No... no, sir..."
"Then why do I have to deal with twerps like you?" Magma snapped. "Why did Papa Cain feel he needed to dump a lousy excuse of a Hunter into my squad? Maybe you decieved him somehow... pulled the wool over his eyes. Or maybe you drugged him. Or maybe you're just some lunatic from the streets, looking for something to fund his vodka. However you got into a squad at this rung of the ladder, I'll probably never truly know. But I figure you must've pulled off something really clever..."
"Sir, please!" Chase shouted. "Cain thought I was fit for this job! I've been in combat for a good seven years now!"
"I don't care if you've been in combat for 107 years! There's no excuse for slacking off!" Magma shouted back. "Ever since you've been in this group, you've been falling behind. Maybe you're under the impression that the only Units called into action are 17 and 0 - that only the big leagues are supposed to be serious about their training. Well then, my friend, you've been living in a fool's paradise for quite a long time now. From what I know, there are plenty of combatants in the 12th that are more qualified than you. You know, the ones that get stuck with all the ridiculously simple jobs, and then end up screwing themselves over badly. Perhaps you'd be more at home in a lazy-assed squad like that."
"No, sir... I wouldn't like that..."
"No! Perhaps you aren't even fit for combat as a whole! Maybe I could make a special request to move you to a more fun job... like cleaning the mold out from between that idiot Wiedl's toes, perhaps...?"
"NO! NO! Dear Jesus, no!" Chase shouted in agony. "Please! Don't stick me down there with that lunatic! I'll be good!"
Magma darted his eyes at the bony human. "We'll see about that, my little human compadre. I have some very interesting work planned for you..."
Chase grumbled. "You know, just because you can't torture your brother anymore, doesn't mean you have the right to pick on me now."
The Dragoon didn't even blink. "Oh, please," he said almost comically. "Don't push my brother into this, Simmons. He's being tended to by his little friends X and Zero now. He doesn't need any more guidance from me at the moment. I also don't think it's very wise to put up an attitude with your commanding officer, my boy. You're already dangling by a thread, and I could easily snip it with these lovely claws of mine. Would you like that, Simmons?"
He lowered his head. "No, sir..."
"Didn't think so," Magma responded. "Now... tell me, boy, how much training do you undergo daily? Hmm?"
Chase spoke weakly. "About... about six hours, sir..."
"Six? Bah!" Magma exclaimed. "That's ridiculous, Simmons! It's no wonder you're falling behind. Yes... let's double that, my boy. Twelve hours a day... I guess that's enough."
The young man looked shocked. "Twelve?! Are you serious, sir? That's half a day..."
"No excuses, boy!" Magma angrily shouted. "It'll take quite a bit of time for you to be put up to code. This is dear mercy on your sake, little man. I want you up tomorrow morning by 0:500. Do you understand me, Simmons?"
"Yes... yes, sir,"
"Good. I like a recruit who listens," Magma responded slyly. "I'll see you in the morning, Simmons. You'll thank me for this someday. We may have a chance at making you something of a decent fighter. You're dismissed, Simmons..."
Not bothering to even look the dragon in the eyes, he slowly ambled out of the room, his head hung in shame. He closed the door lightly. It looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
Making sure that the boy was completely gone, Magma arose from his tiny wooden chair and directed his attention to a large file cabinet in the far corner of the room. Ever since the unexpected arrival of Vile, he had been considering doing something a bit risky; in that file cabinet was an extential listing of almost every Maverick Hunter in history, with full data analysis and information on each. Of course, the files were highly classified, and only high ranking officers could obtain copies of them. Dragoon, being leader of the 14th, was allowed to look through them at his own whim. Pulling out the V-Z cabinet, he fingered carefully through the files and picked up the one that caught his fancy. Opening it up, he read through the complete report:
#00346
REPLOID CODENAME: "VAVA" CASUAL IDENTIFICATION: "VILE" REPLOID BREED: UNABLE TO CLARIFY
HEIGHT: 4'7 WEIGHT: 120 IBS. ARMOR: TITANIUM STEEL - C4 CLASS PRIMARY WEAPON - SPECIAL CLASS 76 MOUNTED SHOULDER CANNON
MENTAL STATE: STABLE HUNTER UNIT: 17th ELITE CLASS
UPDATE: 16 MAY 21XX Unfortunately, under new and unexpected circumstances, the reploid prototype "Vile" has been sealed in a isolated capsule and kept in an area where he is prevented from causing harm to himself or others. Due to a gross abnormality in Vile's power output, he's gone completely berserk and has been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of humans in the area. His power is far above average - something I certainly hadn't planned on, a huge error on my part. We managed to neautralize the threat and control his power - however, his mental state is a complete failure. Therefore, I can only hope for the best from here on. Please keep his capsule unattended.
- DOCTOR JAMES CAIN
Magma stared at the small end paragraph in amazement. Vile... so this was why he was feared. He was an extremely powerful being... caused the deaths of many innocent humans and reploids. Amazing...
He closed the file in earnest and carefully slipped it back into it's proper cabinet. An extremely powerful being... he thought. Yes... he'll turn Maverick again soon enough... then, I can see this so called "power" for myself... that won't be too long... I can hardly wait...