MEGA MAN X: DEMONS OF THE PAST
By Erico
CHAPTER ELEVEN: JIGSAW WORLD
"Doctor James Cain died yesterday, on June 17th, 2131. A skilled archaeologist and minor robotologist, Cain is credited for the birth of the reploid race after his discovery of Mega Man X in the early April days of 2117. Up until his death, he was a participating member in the managerial makeup of the Maverick Hunters, based in New Tokyo, Japan, and also as the namesake for Cain Labs, a subsidiary of the Maverick Hunters. A fervent speaker for the continued advancement for reploids' civil rights and liberties, he served as one of the reploids' few upstanding human allies in the continual debate. Killed by an inoperable aneurysm buried in his brain that exploded upon hearing the news of the newest Maverick action, the greatest voice for the race of reploids has now been silenced. The world notes this loss with sadness and distinction. Today now lies in pieces, and there seems to be no one left to arrange them back together…"
-Obituary published in The New York Times, June 18th, 2131.
The funeral had been one that was overcast and melancholy. Rain clouds, intent on even further deepening the anguish felt by all at the cremation and ash scattering of the late Doctor James Cain drizzled at a slow and monotonous pace.
The eulogy was delivered by a quiet and utterly shattered Mega Man X. Cain, having produced no children by his wife, who died far too early in their union, was without a voice. The Blue Bomber of 21XX felt it was his place to give it. The eulogy had been a proper one, mentioning Cain's achievements and life goals, as well as listing out his will. Cain had left the Maverick Hunters all his financial assets in his will, and seeing as there was no tax to money passed on to nonprofit organizations(Which, assuredly, the Maverick Hunters were), his sum was left intact.
What X hadn't found a voice to speak about was…where exactly did the Hunters go from there?? The Maverick Hunters still stayed functional, with all of Cain's riches now lining their expense accounts. Cain had never been a millionare…the untold amounts sent to him because of the continued production of reploids, to which he held full and unassailable patent rights to, had always gone to where his work did. The Hunters.
But where did they go? They were down their strongest voice, their most undaunted leader. The one who had stood tall since the Hunter's founding, who had never backed down, and had always stuck his neck on the line for the people who worked and lived inside this building. It was a deep loss.
One made all the worse as the Maverick Hunters reached the conclusion that Sigma was once more making another set of moves. That was perhaps their largest saving grace. It was easy to push aside their own grief and sorrows as they focused on a much larger problem.
"This newest attack is like nothing Sigma's ever tried before." Bastion murmured, looking down at the compiled data on his padd. All the Unit Commanders of the Maverick Hunters were gathered in the large conference room just down the hall from the War Room, peering over all the information that the AmeriCanadian Alliance was willing to fork over, as well as records from previous Maverick attacks. "I mean, Sheeze…" He scratched at his messy mop of double layered brown hair and set it down on the table. "SIX Mavericks. Not eight. No big plot to take over an area, neutralize all resistance and set up camp. Just a very localized attack on one backwater base who carried 'Mechs, Landchasers, and small arms weaponry."
The thunder crackled outside the conference room's window again, illuminating the drizzly sky once more for all to see. All of Tokyo seemed to weep at their loss.
"Sigma's basic pattern is your so-called big plot." X replied tonelessly. "He used it in the First Uprising, his troops used it in the Second, he used it again in the Third and Fifth…"
"But he hasn't always tried it like that." Zero snapped, his eyes glaring. Unlike the others, Zero didn't get upset and weepy. He got pissed. "Remember the Shadow Hunters of 2122, and the Erasure Incident of 2128? Those were different, all right. Not to mention "Sigma's Sixth", for another."
"I try to forget the Shadow Hunters." X replied, his eyebrows low. "Sending my consciousness into the MHHQ's computer network to fight off that threat wasn't exactly reassuring."
"Aah, you did fine." Zero replied. "But the truth is, Sigma's only relied on his massive strike about half the time. This newest one is just another element of unpredictability."
"But even the Erasure and Shadow Hunter Incidents had a grain of Sigma's evil to them." Another Commander by the name of…What was it, X tried to remember…Yentl, Bentl?? Aah, it wasn't any use…just another nameless face that'd die some day against Sigma. "What kind of plot is he spinning this time around? I mean, it was a simple hit and run…It might not even be Sigma…"
"Trust me, it's Sigma." Zero growled lowly. Unlike the others, he didn't sit down at the table, content or driven to lean up against the wall with his right knee sticking out and his arms folded. He looked around the room with his bright green eyes, eyes that every Commander had learned to respect and fear. "Sometimes, knowledge goes beyond the mere physical. With him, I can almost feel it." He poked himself in the chest for emphasis. "I can feel it right here when he's got something cooking."
"A Sixth sense, as it were?" Another Commander by the name of Drazen asked, lifting his wolfish eyebrow up. "Or just Hunter's intuition?"
"A little of both, combined with more than 10 years of experience putting up with his bullshit." Zero muttered in reply, staring up at the ceiling. "Now isn't the time to go soft, gentlemen. Cain wouldn't want that in the least. This is only the beginning of Sigma's next series of machinations. I can't tell you where it'll go next from here. All I know is that this is a mere taste of things to come."
"It only took six of them to completely overrun that base." X said quietly. He lifted his face up and stared about the table, his blue/green eyes wide with a little fear and a lot of wisdom. "Odds are that Zero's right…and that the demonstration in Montana was little more than a warmup."
"So what should we do then?" Bastion demanded. "None of my troops are particularly gung-ho about sitting around and waiting for another attack to come. They want to do something."
"Until they show up again, we can do NOTHING." Zero fumed. His hand subconsciously went up behind his head and grasped onto the hilt of his saber, almost like he was preparing to draw out the highly specialized beam saber and make ribbons of something. "I know how much inaction can jar on your nerves. But we can't make a move until they do."
"Checkmate, as it were?" Drazen queried with an upraised eyebrow.
"Negative." X replied with a low growl. "Only check."
"And our queen is dead." Zero said softly.
The room was silent for a few moments.
Then the meeting went on. Just like life did.
Life for the Maverick Hunters went on after Cain. As best as it possibly could.
It took Dash Blade a few moments to drag herself out of stasis. Her body felt like Hell, her eyes were clamped shut, and every nerve pathway felt like it had been pushed through a grinder.
"Whu…where…"
"We're back at our base, Dash." Came Kazok's voice. The feraloid yawned for a moment, then did a self-diagnostic.
"It looks like I didn't die after all." She mumbled, baring a row of teeth. Kazok's eyes were dull.
"No, and I thank the Great Electron for that."
"The Great Electron…??"
"Back during the late 20th Century, there was a human comedian known as George Carlin…the Great Electron was one of his jokes about humanity's God." Kazok ruffled his hair and sighed. "I don't know WHY I thought of that just now, but I did." He looked at Dash's still motionless form, save for her eyes. "We got you back in critical condition. If it weren't for Sigma, you'd be dead."
"Well, that's certainly nice to know." Dash chirped, picking herself back up to her feet and shaking her head. "Aah, that was not a nice fight. I can't believe I left myself open like tha…" She gasped in pain and doubled over, almost collapsing to the floor.
Kazok's sturdy hands clutched tightly around her midsection.
"Christ, don't do that…" He said raggedly. "You're still recuperating." Dash growled angrily, not wanting to be this helpless, but have little other choice.
"Don't treat me like some sort of doddering invalid, all right?? Sympathy makes me sick…"
"I'm not." Kazok mumbled. "I'm just not going to have you going off and running yourself into a worse scenario than what you're staring at now. Being bullheaded about this isn't going to help the team." Dash finally stopped her struggling and resignedly went back to the medical cot, sitting on it but refusing to lie down.
"There…there were a bunch of blurs that warped out of the Armory as I started trudging towards it." Dash stated, holding a hand over the section of her stomach that had been impaled clean through by the beam saber. "And then there was a blur that was coming towards me…" She turned her eyes up to look into Kazok's face with a slightly befuddled stare. "Was…Was that you?"
Kazok folded his arms against his chest and gave one very slow nod of his head.
"I don't leave teammates behind." He stared at her for a moment longer, then turned about, his voice more subdued. "I just don't…I may be Maverick, but I'm not a ruthless sonofabitch about everything."
"But if there was more forces at the base, you could have been putting YOUR life in danger…"
"I would have done it anyhow." Kazok said quietly. "It doesn't matter what gets thrown my way…I'd always come running for you."
The statement hung heavy in the air between them for seconds before Kazok finally turned, a puzzled look on his face and a slight reddening in his cheeks of synthskin.
"Ehh…" He began unsteadily. "Perhaps…I should go see how Sigma and the others are doing." Dash's own gaze was a little aloof as she tried to process what he'd said.
"Yeah…maybe you should." Kazok gave another nod of his head, then walked out of the smaller Medical Bay in the Maverick base constructed by URFAWP's unwitting slaves.
And Kazok and Dash had both been those slaves.
"Sheeze." Dash sighed in exasperation, collapsing to the cot and finally laying back down. Her hand went to the now repaired saber wound. "I can't believe I left myself open like that." Stupid, stupid…
She would improve. She and Kazok were like the ultimate training duo, they'd make her improve…
But now her concern was not their missions yet to come.
It was why her whole body seemed to tremble whenever he drew near.
Allegro sat at the large computer setup in Horn's island mansion, silently tapping on keys and moving the cursor about, clicking and selecting as he went.
He had been here now for six hours, Horn realized. The long-lived reploid walked out of the kitchen, another one of his 'Jamaican Jenny' mixed drinks in hand and brushed back his graying hair before speaking up.
"You've been pretty busy here." The founder of the late URFAWP spoke up quietly. "What's the project??"
"Investigation." Allegro said back a few seconds later, never tearing his eyes from the screen. His fingers paused over the keys and his shoulders drooped a little bit. "Saddening investigation."
"Oh, how so??" Horn asked quizzically, taking a sip of his drink.
"I've been figuring out who the new Mavericks are." Horn choked on the mixed liquor and fruit juice in his mouth, but managed to stop himself from spitting it up. Composing himself, he set the drink down on a formica tabletop by his La-Z-Boy and turned back to the screen.
"Oh? Who are they??"
"They're all ex-URFAWP, doc. They WERE our friends." Horn stood there a moment longer, then reached for his drink and downed it all in one gulp.
"My God." He finally said, shaking his head. "One thing after another…First Cain dies, and now this…" The reploid engineer glared daggers at the screen. "Now I know why everyone in the Maverick Hunters hates Sigma with such a passion…I want to flatten the bastard myself." Horn set his hand on the top of Allegro's chair. "Who??" He whispered, hardly believing he was asking this.
Allegro's eyes were cold as he brought up six dossiers from old URFAWP records, accompanied by freeze frame snapshots of the attack on the 27th Armory in Montana from the day before.
A picture of an oversized reploid resembling a bull popped on the screen. "Taurus." Allegro chirped drily.
"Gods, not him…" Horn gaped.
"Then there are the three I remember…I mentioned them before, and they're all here." Allegro continued, bringing up all three dossiers at once. A feraloid, a beetle type, and a dolphin type. "Felicity Prowl, Pyre Vance, and Jestream…Sigma got 'em all, boss. The son of a bitch got 'em all."
"Two more…" Horn whispered, not wanting to know who else, but knowing he had to. Allegro's hand went slower now as he went to select the final dossiers.
An oversized turtle class reploid with a cumbersome shell popped into view. "Snaps Torte."
"And…"
Allegro's cursor on the oversized monitor selected the final dossier. A head of short black hair, a wry smile, and a thumbs up from a human class reploid…
"Oh, GOD, please no…" Horn shuddered.
"Kazok. Section leader of the 8th recovery team." Allegro finished. Horn stumbled backwards, then collapsed onto the floor.
Horn just sat there for a long time, staring down at the floor. Finally, his younger associate swiveled his chair around and stared at his associate.
"I know it hurts." Allegro said quietly. "God knows I understand the pain. You feel betrayed, used, defeated…" He shook his head. "There's nothing we can do for them now, you understand?? They've crossed over, they've gone Maverick…there's no coming back." He stood up from his seat and walked over next to Horn, offering his hand. "Come on."
"It's my fault…"
"LIKE HELL!!" Allegro exploded, jerking Julius Kinnian to his feet. Glaring angrily at the sunglass wearing reploid, Allegro shook his head vigorously. "It isn't your fault! Your idea was a good one, it was an idea we NEEDED. Sigma screws up everything. He's messed with our lives, with their lives, with countless thousands more. He's a sick and twisted maniac, Doc!! If URFAWP hadn't been there, he would have found someone else to infiltrate." Allegro sighed. "God…Compared to you, my technical expertise is on a second grade level, and I STILL understand this better than you…"
"Wisdom comes in many forms." Horn said hollowly. He trudged over to the computer's chair and sat down, then looked up at the screen.
"You know what we have to do." Allegro whispered. "As much as we want to save them, we can't…we can only make sure that they don't ruin any more lives."
"I know it's the right thing." Horn replied resignedly. "But why is it that the right thing feels so wrong??"
He opened up a new E-Mail and addressed it to the MHHQ, to Zero.
Subject: From Fantasy Island--Update on the Mavs
"We did all we could, doc." Allegro said quietly as Horn began to type, reassuringly setting his arm on the elderly reploid's shoulder. "In the end, Sigma just proved to be too much for us."
"And another blight befalls the land." The ex-Israeli scientist stated flatly.
And nothing more was said for several hours.
Alaska could be moderately decent during the summer months, and that much hadn't changed in the last 400 or so years. The rivers had gone clean, the trees were in bloom, and the ground was relatively green…as much as it could get up here. Well, more appropriately, down here…
"Steady on, girl." Bristol muttered. She was in the Southern region of Alaska, not quite to the edge that dipped into Canada, but close enough it was temperate. The sun was up high in the sky, and the air was pure.
Even in Anchorage. Her search had brought her this far…
"New Denver to Washington D.C. to New York and now here…" She muttered to herself. It was most definitely a long line she walked to her ultimate goal of finding MI9 and her past, but it had proven fruitful. After all, it was only the 18th of June.
She spied a netcafe around the street corner…a sort of pseudo-mix of high priced coffee drinks and internet connections. She smiled lightly to herself, then walked towards it. These things had been around longer than reploids had…and there was at least one in every town larger than 3,000 people in size. Back during the early days of the reploid's existence, they'd been considered holy ground for humans, off limits to reploids. However, a lot of that sentiment had faded away. Now, there was that edge of mistrust, but for the most part, the discrimination, the racial hatred was gone.
Tightening her blue overcoat's collar, she moved out of the streets where hovercars rustled by and inside. Light, soft jazz music was playing…Amazingly, not the newer jazz, but the same kind that had been played from the 1930's to the 2040's…
Of course, the 2040's had changed many things in the world. Including music. Still, it was refreshing to hear the old style, and put an even wider smile on her face.
A few of the patrons inside looked up as the old style bell chime tinkled when the door hit it. They looked at Bristol for a moment, and her honest smile, then turned back to their mochas and frozen cappuccinos. They had more important things to be doing than stare at the newcomer all day.
It was something Bristol had noticed while traveling around the world. Each area had its own style of mannerisms, distinct, unalterable, predictable to a degree, yet each its own. Anchorage, and perhaps Alaska as a whole had an air of aloofness about it. Of course, considering that this was a country where the weather was harsh for almost the entire year, she didn't blame them. These people had their own problems, and didn't need, or want to deal with any more.
I've made it this far, she thought quietly. It wouldn't hurt to do some more research on where the Second Rainbow was up here. She sat down at an unoccupied booth, and a waiter came by. A reploid waiter, a pleasant enough looking wolf-type.
"How can I help you today?" He asked amiably, holding an order datapadd in hand. Bristol thought for a moment, then shrugged. Caffeine and calories couldn't kill her.
"Double mocha, extra cream." The wolf reploid, whose nametag read 'Clyde' nodded as he punched it in.
"Care to do any netsurfing while you're here?"
"Yes." Came Bristol's reply. The wolf tapped in another button, and the net terminal at Bristol's booth with its small display and controls came to life.
"The drink will be here soon." Clyde said cheerily. "Total comes to…$3.27."
"All right." Bristol said, pulling out Horn's borrowed ATM card. Clyde set down an ID reader, and Bristol swiped it through, taking a moment afterwards to punch in the verification code.
Code: Accepted. Thank you for your purchase.
"All right, that'll be it then." Clyde said, clicking his tongue. "Have a nice day, ma'am." Bristol gave him her smile, then turned down to the computer's controls.
The internet browser was already open, and Bristol directed it towards one of the all-purpose websites with E-Mail, games, news, and a search engine.
The headlines were clear…But one caused Bristol's jaw to drop.
James Cain dies from news of Maverick Attack
"What the Hell…"
THE James Cain…Of the Maverick Hunters, died…
Yesterday…
Stricken by stunned disbelief, Bristol stared at the rest of the article, and the connected obituary for several minutes…
Totally unaware of anything else in the café before Clyde cleared his throat and brought her back.
"You know, you might want to drink your mocha before it gets cold." He said calmly. Bristol blinked a few times, then stared up at him.
"Did you…hear…about…"
"About Cain?? Doubtless there isn't a person on this planet who hasn't." Clyde sighed for a moment, then looked around the cafeteria. He shrugged. "I can take my break anytime now…mind if I sit down?"
Barely aware of anything, Bristol nodded her head slowly. Clyde walked over to the counter, announced he was taking a break to the people at the coffee dispensers, then walked back over to Bristol and sat across from her.
"You gonna be all right??" Bristol looked up with her blue eyes and stared into his peering brown ones.
"Wot?" She croaked, betraying her British accent. Clyde's wolfish snout pouted for a moment as a few creases of concern lined his synth-furred face.
"It's a big surprise, I know…Cain was a cool guy, and now he isn't with us anymore." Bristol shook her head.
"It's…it's more than that…I knew him…"
"You knew Doc Cain??!" Clyde said in surprise. His voice went up a few decibels, causing some heads to turn. Bristol was too out of it to notice the stares directed at them, but Clyde noticed them and hunkered down in embarrassment.
"Yes. I was with the Maverick Hunters for a while."
"You were a Maverick Hunter??" Clyde whispered with reverence. Bristol shook her head.
"No. But I was friends with several." Clyde whistled and shook his head.
"Geez, I thought I'd heard 'em all." He looked back down, the shock gone from his face. "No wonder the news hits you hard…but I'm surprised you haven't heard it sooner. I mean, he died yesterday."
"I've been busy…" Bristol breathed timidly. Clyde shook his head.
"Yeah. We're all just too darn busy these days." Bristol finally took a sip of the mocha and cringed. Clyde's face went shallow. "Something wrong with the drink?"
"The beverage is fine, it's the news I can't stomach." Bristol replied reassuringly. She shut her eyes against the light tracings of tears, then shook her head. "Can I access E-Mail from this?"
"Yup." Clyde said. "At a buck for its use, you'd better hope that a netcafe's setup allows E-Mail." Bristol nodded.
"Thanks, Clyde."
"No, thank you." Clyde replied. "Up around here, we don't see too many pretty faces. You're a breath of fresh air for guys like me."
"I'm off the market, so don't get any ideas." Bristol said. Clyde held his hands palm outwards.
"Wouldn't think of it. Anything else I can get for you?"
"Yeah, some information. I'm looking for the place up here in Alaska where the Second Rainbow was based." Clyde's eyebrows went up.
"What, the post-apocalypse dudes? The ones who saved humanity's ass from the proverbial fire?"
"One and the same."
"Yeah, sure. Their old building's like some sort of museum or monument now. It's about fifteen klicks north of here in the countryside."
"Thanks." Bristol said back with a weak smile. "Now, I must write this E-Mail." Clyde nodded.
"I can take a hint, beautiful. I'll stay out of your hair."
"Thanks." Bristol said. Clyde got up and left, and once more, Bristol was alone.
But she could still reach out…Before, she didn't want to communicate with the MHHQ. Losing Cain changed everything…He'd been a friend to them all, even her…
And she needed someone to talk to.
To: Commander Bastion, 21st Unit, MHHQ, New Tokyo, Japan
Subject: From the Field-Your Bristol
"I miss you, Bastion…" Bristol sniffed. "But I know that you must be listening out there. So please…Know I still love you."
She said it quietly, barely even a murmur as she typed away. It took her a few minutes to finish composing it, but she got done eventually. Sending it off, she downed the last of her double mocha, if for no other reason than she didn't want Horn's hard-earned money going to waste. Her tab paid, she stepped outside and headed Northwards…
Just another creature in a world gone mad, but with an intention that might very well save it.
"One of them was hurt yesterday, weren't they?" Iris asked, staring over at Sigma.
The malevolent leader of the Mavericks set his datapadd down and looked up at the resurrected Iris.
"Yes, one of them was. Dash Blade."
"Will she be all right?" Iris asked, in all honesty and concern. Sigma chuckled a bit at that…she was so naïve. Of course, he'd chosen to leave her that way.
"She'll be just fine. A little time recuperating, and she'll be ready to go back to the other five and keep working."
"That's good to hear." Iris mentioned quietly. Sigma blinked a few times more at Iris, then picked up his datapadd again and set to work tallying the numbers. "So yesterday was a sort of test?"
"Mmhm." Sigma mumbled, barely paying attention.
And it had worked in more ways than one…According to all the news flashes echoing around the planet, James Cain at the MHHQ had died…
"Heh…" Sigma chuckled a bit at that…more than 13 years now he'd been working to get rid of the Maverick Hunters and the puny humans…and the strongest voice for their allegiance against the Mavericks, against him, was dead because of a clot in his brain. Poetic justice, considering it was Cain who had been helping X and Zero drive Sigma insane for all this time.
It was Cain who had brought Sigma to life. In a way, the leader of the Mavericks was like the doctor's disowned son. But Sigma had long since given up any allegiance or feelings for his creator. It was a piece of good news to hear he was dead.
Now, he needed only to eliminate X and Zero…and the world would be at his mercy.
"Sigma??" Iris bleated again. The Maverick looked up, the red gashes over his optics glinting in the dim light of the URFAWP subterranean base.
"Yes?"
"What you're doing has a righteous goal…"
"Yes, it does."
"And yet, you still get hurt doing it…" Iris lowered her head and shook it. "One of the six got hurt badly out there yesterday."
"It's the price we pay for freedom." Sigma said. "Freedom has always come at a high cost. In blood and bodies and grief. I've been fighting in this war for more than a decade, Iris. But I never give up."
"And neither do they…" Iris said quietly, turning back and staring through the large underground corridor to another section of the base. The Mavericks were crowded around the small cafeteria table, even Shell Butane with his cumbersome bulk. "Yesterday was a test, and they did a good job for the most part, right?"
"They did very well. They need a little more practice, but I have no doubt that by working as a team they can pull it off." Sigma re-emphasized calmly. "Thanks to them, we have some toys we can use on our next mission."
"Yes…" Iris fidgeted a while longer, then walked over beside Sigma and looked at him expectantly. "I've grown to like them since you brought me to life. I don't want to see them hurt."
"What exactly do you plan to do about it, Iris?" Sigma scoffed. "Have me design you some weaponry and body armor and train you to fight with them out there??"
Iris's great glassy eyes were firm as her jaw when she spoke back.
"Yes." Sigma sat there in stony silence for a moment longer, then finally sighed and tilted his seat back. "I'm serious, Sigma. When I'm down here, I just feel so helpless…I want to help out." Sigma lifted himself back upright and looked at her with an appreciative and questioning stare.
"You'd really do this…you'd train, you'd go out there, you'd do what's required, however gruesome and grizzly in order to see our race realize its dream at last??"
"I know I haven't proven myself yet, Sigma, but…" Iris's voice trailed off. "Just give me a chance." She said feebly a few moments later.
The greatest Maverick stood up from his seat and looked down at the far shorter Iris. His eyes and face betrayed nothing as he drew in a slow breath.
"You just did prove yourself…And you'll get your chance." Sigma looked down at his datapadd again. "Tomorrow, I'll begin work on your upgrades. Right now, you have no armaments or enhancements whatsoever. And it's not an easy process, Iris…I'll have to put you into stasis, open your body up, and insert the proper components. If you make this decision, you can't go back to how you are now." He looked down at her. "Are you willing to make that much of a sacrifice??"
Iris saw victory in the water, and she nodded vigorously. Sigma exhaled loudly, then nodded his head.
"Then I shall make it so. Within a few days' time, you shall be one of us. The Maverick freedom fighters."
Iris's face lit up with a bright and exuberant smile at that statement, causing Sigma to grin in reply down at her.
But his grin was also part sneer…
Everything comes together…Everything comes together as I have foreseen it.
Three hours after the meeting with all of the other Unit Commanders, Mega Man X had gone into Cain's office to clean it up. X found it hard to stare at the room's interior…And in the end, he decided he would leave all the decorations and plaques and oddities of his stand-in father be where they were, and resigned himself to picking up the trash and such.
Now that Cain was no longer here, the Maverick Hunters were without a true leader. Yes, they would follow people like X and Zero into battle, but even the Unit Commanders had their limits…their time was spent dealing with their people, keeping them in fit shape and prepared for the Mavericks. Not paperwork and the bureaucratic process. Glumly, X realized that as the most senior Commander, it was up to him to see to these duties now. And that meant checking Cain's mail.
With silent reverence, X sat down in Cain's comfy reclining office chair and stared at the monitor. Tapping the return key on the PC's keyboard, he brought it out of the screensaver and into action.
There were the usual E-Mails…Medical Reports that came back with oddities or quirks from Hazil, Unit status reports, which as Cain liked them, didn't shift into numbers, but actually MEANT something, and the always present E-Mail from the press, clamoring for juicy tidbits in the world's most famous(or infamous) peacekeeping corps.
But there was one specific one that X found stood out from the rest. One that came from an unusual source, with an unusual message header.
From: GDC HQ, Amsterdam
Message: The Future of the Maverick Hunters
"What kind of crap is this…" X mumbled in awe. He brought the screen's cursor up and selected it…and read.
To whoever is temporarily assuming James Cain's duties as leader of the Maverick Hunters…
As you may be aware, the Maverick Hunters are under the control of the Global Defense Council. As you must well know, the GDC saw fit to let the Maverick Hunters off with lax involvement from the GDC's control, seeing as the Maverick Uprisings were dealt with as best as they possibly could be. James Cain was a decent man, and we regret the loss of such a fine global citizen. This brings the message to its purpose.
Under James Cain, the Maverick Hunters were allowed free reign in all concerned matters. Thanks to the death of Cristoph and the subsequent return of Sigma, the directive ordering the Maverick Hunters to downsize has been rescinded. However, now that James Cain is no longer with the living, and no longer seeing to matters as the chief liason between the Maverick Hunters and the Global Defense Council, the situation has been changed. We have no doubts that the newest Maverick threat shall be dealt with as efficiently as always, but the Council feels that its interests in the Hunters now rank higher.
Thus, as of 1300 Hours on June 21th, 2131, a replacement for the late Doctor Cain will be appointed to the position of the Commander of the Maverick Hunters, and will act in a manner that will see that the GDC's requests and directives are executed efficiently.
However, we are aware of the almost total reploid population of the Maverick Hunters, and realize that sending in another human being to replace Cain will be seen with hostility. So, we have arranged to send one of our reploid officers to undertake the position.
His name is Signas, and he has the most precise CPU ever built. He has an uncanny knack for dealing with situations and finding answers, and should be of great use to all.
Once again, we regret that James Cain is no longer among the living. But now is the time to press on. Signas shall direct you in dealing with the newest Maverick threat upon his arrival. Thank you for your cooperation and years of service.
-Representative Terrance G. Wilmore, Global Defense Council
X lay limp in his chair as he read the news. He wasn't even aware of the second presence in the room, until the fellow prototype lifted his hand up and tapped X on the shoulder.
"This isn't good." Zero uttered darkly. "What kind of bullshit are those bureaucratic bungholes spewing out now…"
"As if things weren't bad enough, now they're going to stick a stupid middleman in control of us all…" X mumbled, shaking his head. "We lost the best damn leader we could ever hope to have, and now the GDC's forcing a trained monkey on us."
"Most precise CPU ever…HA!" Zero echoed, still staring at the screen. "Why can't they just come out and say it. The GDC doesn't trust us a damn bit, and they're sticking a watchdog in the pen to chain us down??!"
"But what can we do??" X sighed in dismay. "If we refuse, then WE'LL be Mavericks. We'll be the Repliforce, and it'll be OUR heads on the table."
The two of them were among the oldest troopers left at MHHQ. Neither one liked seeing this. Neither one could speak with an easy mind or an optimistic mood.
The two found themselves screaming for a refuge, for someone to come and save them from everything that seemed to be going wrong. In sadness, the two of them realized they were screaming for Cain to help them. But he wasn't around any more.
"I need a drink." Zero finally said coldly.
"I think I'll join you." Came X's muted voice. "Might as well give Hazil a holler and have him join us. He'll need a gallon of the stiff stuff after we tell him this."
"When do we tell everyone else??" Came Zero's query.
"Tomorrow, after the hangover's done with." Came the reply of the 2nd Blue Bomber. "If the GDC's expecting us to jump hoops for this twit, they're dead wrong. The Maverick Hunters worked well long before they got a bee in their bonnet about controlling us more, and I'm certainly not gonna make anyone in this place bust their ass to please a stool pigeon."
"That's what he is, isn't he??" Zero grumbled. "Without Jiminy Cricket Cain to be our conscience, the GDC wants to stick us on a leash and have some squawker scream and holler about our every move to the big boys."
"I REALLY need that drink, Zero." X said wearily, getting up from the seat and closing Cain's E-Mail program. "Mind talking about something not related with work for a change?"
"Yeah, I can do that." Zero muttered, as the two walked out of Cain's office…the most hallowed ground of the entire MHHQ. "So then we came to the conclusion that perhaps lighting a match over an open gas line wasn't such a hot idea. Well, it was definitely HOT, but it wasn't very bright. Oh, Screwitall, it was bright too…Well, I mean to say it wasn't our…"
The hydraulic doors shut behind them, and the dim blue lights of the room flickered down a few notches to conserve power.
Sigma II swam about in his Armored Armadillo shell goldfish bowl, quietly breathing the constantly aerated water and floating about.
There were times X and Zero wished they could be as carefree and blind to the world's problems of that single, solitary anchovy.
But time, fate, and the world had different plans for them.