Legacy

by Lord Yellowtail

Sequel to The Just and the Law. When the principles of justice and the laws of the land clashed, a desperate champion unknowingly made a decision that would change the world, forever.

4. Recalibration

A/N: Please see Prologue notes for detailed information. Again, I own nothing. :) Thanks to to Classic Cowboy and FusionBlaster for beta-reading this. As usual, I do not own any established product, literary character, or work of fiction I mention. All feedback is appreciated. :) Enjoy.

Zero turned a corner and found himself in Unit Seventeen's living cluster. Like every other squadron, the elite group lived together in a bunker that, more than anything else, was laid out like a college dormitory. There was a large common area, complete with a big-screen television, a pool table, a few couches, and a bookshelf. He noted sourly that most of the volumes were from X's private collection, but tried not to think about it.

Unlike almost every other living cluster, the building itself was two stories tall in order to house the over-sized elite unit. In contrast with Zero's Specials or any of the normal units, what was now Acting Commander Quinn's team was meant to function as a front line assault force – the first (and in some glorious instances, last) people to be mobilized in any major offensive operation. They were, in effect, a self-contained, completely self-sufficient miniature army. In place of a full second floor, there was only a railed off balcony upstairs. And I'm one of the few people who remembers why, Zero thought. After the Seventeenth's living facilities were destroyed in an attack during the third uprising, X had a great deal of influence on the design of the new structure. He specifically requested that there be only one common area in order to "enhance socialization between his soldiers."

Socialization. That ... wasn't really happening here. Ajax, Canyon, and Mark weren't anywhere to be found, which sort of surprised him. The fact that the Seventeenth's two humans weren't around wasn't really that much of a shock. They actually had relatives who were, more than likely, very eager to speak with them. To be calmed by them. Too bad we can't give you anything to tell them. Bare with us ... we're going to get this straightened out.

It made him feel a little better when he realized the room wasn't completely deserted. He spotted Quinn and his three unofficial sergeants massed around a coffee table. None of them seemed aware of his presence yet. Good, he thought, the better to observe you, my pretties. He blinked. My pretties? Where did that come from? Damn, I need some sleep. I can't remember the last time I felt this exhausted. But there was time for that later. He turned his attention back to the coffee table.

Quinn and Onyx, both looking somewhat calmer than they had earlier, sat across from each other, whispering quietly about something not even Zero's ears could make out. Aaron sat watching them with a passive intensity that only an expert sniper could muster. That left Beth, and as soon as Zero caught sight of her, he couldn't help but smile just slightly. She was curled up next to the animaloid with her head resting on one of his broad, furred shoulders. X had been right – they did make a cute couple. She had both arms wrapped around his midsection, and all in all, looked very comfortable. The grin erased itself, however, when he managed to catch a good look at her face. Her cheeks were stained; it was obvious she'd cried herself to sleep. At two in the afternoon ... great. Still ... they say the sooner you release your grief ... but that's why I'm here, isn't it? He noticed that, even sleeping, Beth was gripping her boyfriend especially tight. Don't worry, kid. You're not going to lose him. Not over this. He made up his mind to let them both know that, UNHOC Directive or not. They would have enough on their minds without imagined threats.

Zero had been observing the room for about thirty seconds before Quinn's calmly roving eyes swung in his direction. They widened as they locked with Zero's green irises, and his first instinct was to stand up. It wasn't very often that the Crimson Hunter showed up in the Seventeenth's recreation room. Usually, he only appeared for one of two reasons: to harass X, or personally alert the unit of some imminent threat that didn't need to be put out over the internal communication system quite yet. Given the current circumstances, the Acting Commander couldn't avoid assuming the latter, and started to attempt to ease out from under his girlfriend. Zero caught his motion and raised a hand to stop him – which was fortunate, considering Beth only clamped tighter around his abdomen. The other two had noticed him now. Aaron was looking slightly nervous, probably thinking along the same lines as his cat-like friend, but Onyx was keeping a tight lid on his surprise, choosing instead to study the blond berserker intently. "Relax. There's no emergency. I thought I would stop by and check on you and," he threw a friendly, if not significant, look at Quinn, "see if any of you needed anything. That, and I was hoping to find Alia."

Quinn relaxed almost instantly, but Onyx made a noise that could have easily been mistaken for a bear growl. "I suggest you follow the dents in the floor, Zero."

Zero blinked and lowered his gaze. Sure enough, it was quite easy to spot the boot shaped depressions in the soft resin flooring. They led to Alia's quarters. He grimaced, but couldn't muster any actual surprise. "Damn."

"I'd say so," Onyx said quietly, before locking eyes with the older reploid, "Zero, what the hell happened in that meeting? She burst through here with the most furious look I've ever seen on her face, and could barely form complete sentences when she spoke. Not that anyone was brave enough to attempt a drawn out conversation. I've never seen her look so ... disgusted."

"I'm a little curious myself," Quinn muttered. "She's been so ... stoic lately. I kept waiting for something to push her over the edge, but that wasn't the reaction I expected."

"That's because she's still holding it back," Zero said darkly. "We're just getting the occasional flashes of anger." His tone turned sarcastic. "The best is yet to come, I'm afraid."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, sir," Aaron spoke for the first time, overcoming his shock at Zero's presence.

"You have no idea," Zero shot back darkly, earning a confused look from the sniper, who was too young to have been around for the Fourth Uprising. He had known this was coming when he spotted them, but what he was about to do still made him feel sick. "But, Onyx, I'm afraid you're not going to like my answer. None of you will."

"I assure you," Onyx returned, "we don't expect to. Bitter medicine is best administered quickly, Commander."

"The truth is, I can't give you one. Neither can Alia."

The reaction was instantaneous. All around him, eyes flashed dangerously. Aaron was too thunderstruck to say much of anything, though he was pulling off a credible impression of an angry mouse. Quinn, however, had no trouble finding his voice. It came to life in a swift, violent whisper. "Damn right we don't like it Zero! What the hell kind of answer is that?"

Onyx started in right after him, his own tone less than pleasant. "He's right, Zero. We've known from the beginning Signas and the senior staff are holding something back from us. Why aren't you letting us in here? Us, of all people. Not to sound like we're overly deserving of anything, but I'm willing to bet money that meeting of yours was about X, and – damn it, if you can't tell us what's going on, at least give us a reason why."

Zero flinched in his chair, as if someone had jammed him in the stomach. "I ... want to tell you all, you have a right to know what's going on here. Yes, we are holding information back about X; Alia, myself, Signas, Douglas, and Lifesaver. But we ... I can't tell you anything you don't already know."

"But –" Aaron began, the lightest touch of indignation in his voice.

"UNHOC's muffled us. Level Alpha classified." The furious undertone was unmistakable. All around the small table, faces paled. The silence made sense now. No one Hunter, not even Signas, could go against an UNHOC directive. As for the classification level, there were only a few people on the compound that had it. One of them was sitting at the table, one was currently suturing a small cut, another was locked in her quarters, the fourth was back in the armory, one was, unknown to everyone else, trying to find a way around his latest orders, and the last of their number was dead.

"Sorry for my outburst," Quinn managed after a few moments. "I didn't realize..."

"Me too," Onyx offered quietly, "I'm ready for this day to be over."

"No problem," Zero forced a smile, "Hell, I would have probably clobbered me. Just ... I may not be able to tell you what's going on, but you have to realize that I would if I could, in an instant. Depending on how you interpret the directive, I've already told you too much. I will tell you there's no reason we shouldn't be at Condition Green, so don't be afraid to relax. And, even though I hate to get you involved with our forced cover up operation," he grimaced again, "I don't want anything I just told you to go beyond the four people sitting, or laying, at this table."

Everyone nodded. Quinn, looking pained, spoke. In truth, he couldn't believe he had the gall to breathe the words that were about to come out of his mouth. "Zero ... if you'd prefer, we won't tell Beth. She wasn't awake for this, she didn't help us force it out of you."

Zero smiled gratefully, but shook his head. "One, you didn't force me to do anything. Two, thanks for the offer, but the four of you need to stand together right now. You are the senior members of your unit – people are going to be looking to all of you for leadership right now. No secrets, Commander. Not on my account."

Quinn's head jerked up from the spot on the floor he was intently studying. That was the first time anyone had referred to him by his new rank. "Zero ... I'm not officially the –"

"No, you aren't, but, mark my words, you will be soon. I barely have any idea what to expect when X's final orders are unsealed, but I do know who he's been spending the last year subtly preparing to replace him in the event of ... a situation like this. And there's only one more thing I'm going to say on the subject: if you ask me, he made a fine choice." Quinn nodded mutely, expression neutral. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Where's everybody else? I sort of figured it would be a little bit busier in here."

"Ajax and Canyon got a little ... restless when Signas made his announcement," Aaron volunteered, "I think they're in Training Room Four with Mark."

Zero nodded. "Understandable." Something tells me there won't be much left of Training Room Four when they're done. "How about ..." He trailed off, suddenly feeling very stupid for not being able to remember the names of the Seventeenth's two human Hunters.

Onyx seemed to catch on and did his best to save him from any embarrassment (though he took the opportunity to smirk in the blond's direction). "Stacy and Brent? They're here. On the phone with relatives, I believe. People have been calling them for a while to offer condolences, and not-to-discretely ensure that they're still alive." He smiled sardonically. "It must be a trying experience to be related to one of us."

"Indeed," Zero grinned a little, then straightened up. "Well, I think I've put it off long enough."

"Pardon?" Onyx glanced at him for a second, then at Alia's door. "You're going in there, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so. As you can see," He gestured at the deformed flooring, "she didn't leave the meeting in the best of moods. For good reason," he added, giving them another subtle, if not useless hint. "I felt like I should check on her."

Onyx nodded in what Zero thought was a somewhat paternal fashion. "That's probably a good idea. You're likely to actually get in. I was going to try earlier, but I heard something thrown against the door before I knocked." He frowned deeply. "She's not taking this well at all."

"Understatement of the year," Quinn added darkly.

Aaron nodded, and asked the question before he realized what he was doing. "How did she find out?" Zero grimaced. "Oh ... wait ... Level Alpha classified, isn't it?" He spat the words with such venom that the Crimson Hunter almost flinched.

"What do you mean?"

"X was off duty, she wasn't," Quinn said simply. "I would think he wasn't being monitored by Alia. Especially since no reinforcements were sent. If she – or anyone – had been watching, we'd have been called. So, that means she wasn't. Right?"

It was such a perfectly logical, if not simplistic, assumption. "You know what?" Zero spat suddenly, coming to a decision. "This is stupid. I may not be able to tell you what happened, but hell, you're going to need to understand what's going on with Alia if you want to have any hope of helping her deal with this. Not to mention, it might make the mood swings a little more understandable." Everyone blinked. As he began speaking again, Zero's voice faltered slightly. "Alia, Signas and I ... we had to watch. We weren't able to send any help. We just ... all we could do was watch."

Even if they hadn't been stunned into silence, no one would have been able to say anything to that. The shamed look in Zero's eyes was all but begging them to stop asking questions he couldn't answer. It was only made worse by the fact that what he said didn't completely make sense, and it was quite obvious he'd already told them more than he was supposed to.

Zero blinked, and the shame – and any other emotion that might have been on display – subsided. He wanted to tell them everything. He would of, but he knew he couldn't. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't risk antagonizing UNHOC, not yet. With X gone, he would have more responsibility than ever when Sigma made his move. He knew better than to think he was capable of fighting off an entire Uprising alone, but he would be expected to deal with the Maverick King now. The reploid overlord never put himself in a position to be killed in anything but a direct, very personal duel. There was nothing prideful in the knowledge that he was now the only person alive likely to win in such a scenario. No, he couldn't say anything now – but later, when his position in the Hunters wasn't so important, the truth would be known. It didn't matter if he ended up spending the rest of his life cleaning toilets. The entire world would eventually know exactly why Mega Man X was dead. "Just ... watch out for her, and tread lightly. It's likely to get worse before it gets better. I doubt any of us can do very much to get her to deal with her emotions, but when she finally does, whoever's around is likely to have some work cut out for them. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll leave the frying pan now." He stood, smiling weakly, and turned away. To the fire.

As he walked away, Beth's eyes slowly opened. The first thing she focused on was a retreating red, white and yellow form. She didn't move, but raised her head up enough to smile sweetly at Quinn, in that manner possible only in those first few seconds after waking from a deep sleep. "What did I miss?"

Alia looked out her window at the falling snow. At the rate it was going, it was likely to have almost everything completely covered by tomorrow morning. Absentmindedly, she tightened her palm over the cut on her wrist. Part of her figured she deserved it for losing control and smashing the conference room's table. She shook her head and returned her gaze to the flaky puffs falling from the heavens. Before today, she'd loved to watch the snow. It seemed so beautiful; so magical. It didn't hurt that she often found herself beholding it in the company of a certain, six-foot tall reploid. The same boyish Hunter Commander that was absolutely appalled to learn that she didn't know what a snow angel was or how to make one, and insisted that she learn this "critical and enjoyable relaxation technique," on orders if necessary (though he'd added that last part with a smirk). She never did manage to figure out how someone who was so deadly could be so innocent at the same time.

But that was before. Now, it was all tainted. Try as she might, she couldn't look at the puffy white flakes without once again seeing X's limp body, face down in a slushy, stained pile of the ice crystals. She was reminded, with vivid detail that her cybernetic brain would never allow to be tarnished, of the sound the bullet made as it left Winters' rifle; of the way X's skin felt when she touched it mere minutes later – cold, deflated, and lifeless.

No! She forced her eyes away from the window. Stop it, Alia! I can't do this. He wasn't my lover. I shouldn't feel like this... She collapsed on her couch and put her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?" she whispered softly. She didn't want to think about X like that, not anymore. There wasn't any point in pining after the dead. It was a concept easy enough for her logical side to grasp, but her emotions were not to be quelled so simply. But it hurt every time she relaxed her mind enough to think about it. It already hurt so much, and he had only been gone a few hours. What was it going to feel like when the whole unreal factor wore off? She didn't ever want to know, but deep down, she knew she didn't have a choice.

That's why it was so easy for her temper to take over. She wanted someone to pay for what had happened. She wanted justice. But it was impossible to punish someone for obeying the law, wasn't it? So, that left her with an anger and a sadness that she had hoped to never have to feel, and absolutely nothing to do with or about it. Yes, up until today, there had been a certain safety blanket involved in harboring feelings for the Blue Bomber. As nervous as she got every time he went off on another suicide mission that, by definition, shouldn't have been possible to pull off, there was always that comforting, subconscious assurance that he would make it through. It was Mega Man X, after all. It was all but impossible to use his name and the word "failure" in the same sentence. Nothing Sigma could muster would ever manage to stop him. It was a supreme law of the universe – however violently the Maverick King surged forward, X would always be there to push him back. And no matter how badly he was beaten in the process, the last son of Dr. Light would always come back to them – to her – in the end, even when he should, by all rights, have died on the battlefield. That was the hype, and she damned herself for buying it, for assuming she always had more time. But it was so easy to believe. The system worked, right up to the moment someone broke the rules.

If that wasn't enough, the United Nations Hunter Oversight Committee, which seemed amazingly hellbent on keeping a lid on the truth, had just ordered her to turn over X's body so it could be dissected, and no matter how she tried to look at it, violated. She tried not to allow herself to feel the sorrow, but unfortunately for those around her, all that left was the fury. She glanced down at her wrist. It had long since stopped bleeding, despite the fact that it was a rather formidable gash. A hard, orange-tinted scab of sorts was being quickly erected by her auto-repair system. Within a few hours, it would dissolve, revealing newly formed synthetic skin. Looking at it, knowing how it had come to be there, she had to wonder how much longer she would be able to function on anger alone.

Alia looked up as someone knocked on her door. She had a pretty good idea who it was. She could only think of two people who would attempt to talk to her while she wasn't in that good of a mood who weren't in the Seventeenth, and one of them was sealed up in his office. Considering that most of her unit was likely now certifiably terrified of her, that left only one person. She rubbed her eyes and made an attempt to regain her composure. She threw a glance at her bedroom, suddenly reminded of the unwrapped birthday gift on her night table. She still wasn't sure what to do with it, but that was a conundrum for another time. "Come in, Zero."

The Crimson Hunter silently glided into the room and, without asking for permission, sat across from her. He tried to figure out how he wanted to start, but nothing really stupendous was coming to mind. He finally settled on asking, "How did you know it was me?"

Alia raised an eyebrow. "Well, there are only so many people that would attempt to interact with me at the moment, and you're the only one who wouldn't be either intimidated or currently busy."

Zero frowned slightly. "How ... logical of you." Alia shrugged, her facial expression unchanged. She wants me to get to the point. At least she hasn't tried to throw me out yet. Okay ... so, now what? Think fast, Zero. He faltered for a few seconds. He'd come here for the obvious reason – after Alia had stormed out of the briefing room, he had to come after her, if only to make sure she didn't do anything ... overly reckless. Not that he thought she would completely loose control, but if her behavior in the meeting was any indication, someone needed to be keeping an eye on her. And if nothing else, he knew X would want someone to watch out for her. And that was all the justification he needed. Unfortunately, for the moment, that was all he could do. He had no idea how to go about fixing any of this, least of all the part of it dealing with Alia and her feelings for his fallen brother-in-arms. The knowledge that X would more than likely know exactly what to do in this situation made him sick. But – and he would remind himself of this over and over again for a long time to come – he wasn't X, and he never would be. Which meant, among other things, that he didn't have nearly as much insight on the human (or reploid) condition.

In that moment, Zero realized that he would never be able to deal with this particular situation in any manner resembling the way X would handle it. He didn't know how to subtly make someone admit to exactly what was bothering them before they knew what was going on, and then somehow put them on the road to dealing with it. But, you always were more than just another fighter, weren't you? Zero knew he was always best with the direct approach. "Alia, are you feeling okay?"

Alia blinked, her face remained neutral. "Okay, Zero?" Her voice had an edge to it that made him wince.

Strike one. Damn. "I'm sorry ... bad choice of words. I just ... wanted to check on you, after you left the meeting ... I was a little worried."

The spotter's emotionless face seemed to soften a little, but still yielded nothing. "I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was out of line. I ... I guess I snapped. It won't happen again."

Zero resisted the urge to groan. "Alia, you don't have to apologize to me, or anyone else. We all wanted to smash something. The only difference is you managed to beat us to it. If it makes you feel any better, Signas had to go to the Infirmary to get the dents his fingers left in his palms fixed."

"Yay," she deadpanned. There was silence for a moment, then she spat out, "Can you believe this ... nightmare? First, they kill him, now they want to carve up his dead body. And there's not a damned thing we can do about it."

"I know," Zero couldn't keep the defeated tone from his voice. "But we've got to try."

"What?"

Zero suddenly had an idea. The whole point of this exercise was to get Alia to admit that she wasn't dealing with her emotions. She wanted nothing more than to bury them deep inside and pretend they didn't exist. What better way to convince her it was a flawed plan then to show her what it looked like in practice? "You're right. We've got to do our best to move on. X is ... X is gone, and he isn't coming back. That doesn't change the fact that the Mavericks are still out there. We've still got to be here to keep them from overrunning everything."

Alia blinked, and for just a fraction of a second, Zero thought he was about to get blasted. He would have liked nothing better. "What if I don't want to anymore, Zero?"

Zero was speechless. That so did not work. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Alia sighed. "I'm not sure I want to keep protecting a race of people who don't think of me as anything more than an glorified toaster, there to serve their every need like the inferior being that I am." She looked away. "How did he do it?"

Okay ... this was venting, and he'd certainly been going for that, but he had the distinct impression he'd lost control of the conversation. Alia had just admitted she was about ready to quit – that was unexpected. Might as well go with it. She had, after all, asked him a question. For the moment, he would ignore the comment about the toaster and it's associated implications. "X? How did he do what?"

Alia scrunched up her face in a rare display of uncertainty. "How ... how did he defend people that hated him for twenty-six years without burning out? He always seemed so happy when he wasn't on duty. And he may not have liked the way things are between us and the humans, but he was always willing ... more than willing ... to risk his life for them. He would have – did die for them without a second thought ... why? I don't really understand how he was always so sure of what he was doing."

Zero frowned. He'd wondered that before himself. Alia hadn't gotten the chance to know X long enough to make that question moot. She'd fallen in love with the man that liked to play with children and read old romance novels, and worked with the unstoppable, courageous Avenging Angel, and still hadn't completely figured out how to reconcile the two. Fortunately, he'd been X's best friend for twenty-six years, so he stood a chance of forming a decent answer. "Alia ... X hated the way we're treated. More than either of us, I imagine. He was ashamed of himself for bringing us all into a world that feared and ridiculed us. But that didn't matter to him."

Alia sounded genuinely confused. "How could that not matter?"

"They have no right to hate us for what we are, or what we think, right?" Alia nodded. "Then how can we hate an entire race for for the stupid, unfounded prejudices of some of their members? We'd be as bad as the people that made it necessary for X to die today. He knew that. He wasn't willing to sit back and witness genocide, not when he felt he could – when he should – attempt to do something about it. He was going to help them, whether they wanted his aid or not, because it was the right thing to do." He was always too damned noble to do anything but the right thing.

Alia sat quietly for a few moments, digesting the information she'd been given. She knew enough about X to believe it. Somehow, she knew Zero wouldn't dare lie to her. It sounded just like him. But why hadn't she been able to realize it herself? Why did she need to be told? The answer was simple. She just hadn't known him as long. She was seven years old, and she had only known X for a fraction of that time. She would never have the opportunity to know him the way Zero did – he'd been taken from her. "You're right. I think I can understand why he did it, but I may never understand the how. Where do you get that much willpower?"

"I'm not sure. It was just ... part of him. I heard him tell one of his rookies something about it once – actually, I think it was Quinn, about four years ago. It was the kid's first mission, and the three of us had managed to get pinned down – twenty Mavericks and half a dozen ride armors were blasting at our position. One of X's busters was offline and my saber was somewhere under a big pile of rubble." He smiled slightly, as if remembering a particularly amusing memory.

Alia wanted to kick him. She didn't need any dramatic pauses right now. "And?"

"Quinn was freaking out a little. He's a good guy to have on your team, but he knows his limits. At the time, I think he thought he was out of his league. I heard him mutter, 'we're going to die,' and he was starting to look a little frazzled. Well, panic before a battle is never good, but before I could say anything, X just turned to him, no trace of doubt or worry on his face, and asked, 'Quinn, are you dead yet?' He had the kid's attention, and kept going. 'No? Then you're not beaten. As long as you're alive, there's always a way to win, no matter what the odds. The only thing that varies is difficulty.' And you could see it in his eyes – he believed it. I think that was how he did everything. He never accepted the no-win scenario. He just wouldn't allow himself to even consider it. Period."

Alia smiled thinly. "I always thought he liked James Kirk too much." Zero missed the reference, but shrugged it off, making a note to look this "Kirk" up later. "Isn't this the no-win situation, though?"

Zero let a small, sad grin play across his own face. "Only for us. He may not have saved every one of those people in the park, but there's no arguing that he didn't carry the day, even if he had to die as a result. That's how he would have thought of it, I think."

Alia looked thoughtful for a minute, then began to speak in a tired whisper. "He probably would have ... but ... I can't use his justification for myself. I can't simply tolerate what they've done. I don't want this life anymore."

Zero found himself conflicted. Alia was her own woman – she had the right to do whatever she thought was best. But, and he didn't mind admitting it to himself, he didn't want to face this alone. And he didn't love Alia, not like he suspected X did, but he wasn't at all pleased with the idea of her going somewhere where he couldn't keep an eye on her, especially considering her current state. Fortunately, what she said next allayed his fears, for a little while at least.

She smiled ruefully, seeming to pick up on his concerns. "Don't worry. I said I didn't want this to be my life, but I'm not ready to leave yet. I promised X I'd stay around long enough to keep things from getting out of hand when the crap hits the fan," her face darkened as she went on, "and it will be hitting, UN order or not. But as soon as it's over, I'm done here. There's nothing to make me want to stay any more, and plenty to make me want to leave. But," she tried another smile, not really sure if she pulled it off or not, "for the moment, I'm still with you."

Zero sighed. Scratch one crisis. "Good."

"Thanks for checking in on me. You cut off what was bound to be a rather long sulking session."

Zero grinned sincerely for the first time in what seemed like a very, very long while. "No problem." He rose and went for the door, but paused before exiting. He turned around and locked eyes with his young friend. "And just so you know ... I don't plan on staying here that much longer myself. As soon as we've put Sigma down, I'm done."

Now it was Alia who was caught off guard. "Wha-what?"

She immediately noticed the anger flashing in his eyes. Apparently, he'd found a way to harness his fury again. At least she could tell it wasn't directed at her. "When I started fighting Sigma, it wasn't because I believed in the right of the human race to inhabit the Earth. I have human friends, sure, but as a race? My human friends are wonderful people. The human race is scum. Don't get me wrong, I would never just sit back at watch innocent people be killed, but that wasn't what motivated me in the beginning, not really. I fought because I wanted my friends and I to live a free life; not one under Sigma's iron fist. I may not be the smartest of men, but even then I knew what a despot was. Despots cannot be allowed to rule anything, under any circumstances. I'd like to think I've grown up a little over the years; gotten a little more mature, but any respect I may have gained for the human race just got shot to hell. This time, I'm making sure Sigma stays dead, then I'm done."

Alia stared blankly at him, absorbing the information she'd just been handed. She'd always known his motives weren't quite as elevated as X's, he'd admitted it on several occasions, but this was the first time he'd spelled it out for her. Strangely, she had no problem with anything he'd said. She didn't think she could bring herself to only concentrate on humanity's few redeeming characteristics anymore. No. That's not true. I know I can't. She wasn't X, and she couldn't pretend to think like him. Then something else truck her. "Zero ... how are you going to make sure Sigma stays gone? We've tried before. It never works."

The Crimson Hunter stared at something outside Alia's window. "I'll think of something." She realized instantly that she didn't like the fluctuation in his tone. Before she could say anything, he continued. "I've ... got to check on my unit. I'll see you in a few hours." He smiled at her and left the room.

Maverick Hunter Headquarters Library Computer Automated Task System

Logging Enabled...

Task ID: X-1953-32-234-Omega

Task Description: On-Death Orders and Tasks: Commander Mega Man X

Executing...

Authorize Commander Zero and Lieutenant Commander Alia to enter quarters of the deceased ... Done.

Authorize Commander Zero and Lieutenant Commander Alia to access personal database of the deceased ... Done.

Notify the above parties of authorization ... messages sent to private terminals ... Done.

Dispatch copy of file "Lt. Commander Quinn Promotion Recommendation" to Commander Signas ... Done.

Dispatch copy of videofile "Omega1" authorized for viewing by collected members of Hunter Unit 17 ... Done.

Rename encrypted file "On-Death Letter to Signas" to "Letter from X" and dispatch to Commander Signas and authorize Signas to view file ... Done.

Rename encrypted file "On-Death Letter to Zero" to "Letter from X" and dispatch to Commander Zero and authorize Commander Zero to view file ... Done.

Rename encrypted file "On-Death Letter to Alia" to "Letter from X" and dispatch to Lieutenant Commander Alia and authorize Lieutenant Commander Alia to view file ... Done.

Decrypt and dispatch file "Final Instructions" to Commander Signas ... Done.

Load custom program "Armor Control Circuit Wipe" ... working.

Program loaded. Executing program ...

Please wait...

All control and interface circuitry programming in all armors successfully erased. All armors have been neutralized...

Program complete.

Task X-1953-32-234-Omega complete.

Log saved to database.

Loading next task ...

Signas sat down at his desk. It had been just over four hours since X's death. If there hadn't been any glitches in the system, the LCATS would have executed X's "On-Death Orders and Tasks" script by now. He briefly wondered what went through is old friend's mind when he had programmed that particular sequence of events. Signas himself had found the task beyond morbid when he'd been forced to do it. Still, it was a necessary thing, and the system was undeniably quite efficient. When he activated his terminal, he would likely have a couple of new files waiting for him, one of which was sure to be X's final orders. The other was going to be a recommendation for him on who should be given command of the Seventeenth. He didn't really expect anything else. All that remained was to sit down and look at his incoming messages. Of course, he was an always would be a pragmatist, so he knew the best course of action was to simply get it over with.

So, why was he staring at an inactive terminal as though it were a primed nuclear weapon? Well, that's a simple question, isn't it? This is it. Once his orders are carried out, he's gone. The world will start spinning again, and the game will start anew. SNAFU. Whoever came up with that acronym must have had situations like this one in mind. Well ... there's no time to meet the future but the present. He shrugged his broad shoulders and stabbed his keyboard.

"So, that'll be eighteen-fifty, sir."

"Right." Lieutenant Ben Dixon, United States Army Research, fished around in his uniform slacks for his wallet. "Here you go. Keep the change."

"Thanks, sir. You want me to put this anywhere for you?"

"No. That's alright. I'll take it."

"Sure. Here you go." The younger man handed over the biggest pizza available within a twenty-five mile radius, smiled, and excused himself from Dixon's one bedroom apartment. The engineer shut the door quickly and collapsed, pizza and all, on a couch in what passed for his living room. He sat the cardboard box containing his dinner on the cushion next to him and flipped it open, grinning slightly as the aroma of fresh mushroom and pepperoni pizza filled the air. Leaning forward and grabbing a glass off the knee-high coffee table in front of him, he took a swig of root beer and made an attempt to relax. God, what a horrible day. He still hadn't completely recovered from the revelations of the XCBM Task Force meeting. He didn't understand how everything could go do far downhill in so few hours.

He just couldn't believe it – Mega Man X executed for neutralizing that damned idiot jock Henderson and the XCBM prototype. It was horrific on so many levels. Not the least of which was the simple fact that he had anything to do with it. His mother had left him a message a few hours ago, but he'd yet to attempt to call her back. She was the last person he wanted to talk to, knowing what he was responsible for. She didn't want him to see his shame-filled eyes. None of this would have been possible without his "expertise and talent," and he knew it. Dixon wasn't a braggart or an egomaniac by any means, but he had no problem with the assertion that he was the one of the foremost human computer experts on the planet. It was only logical that his Army Research superiors would assign him to work on the XCBM project.

All the weapon systems, navigation computers, redundant power generators, everything – none of it would have worked together if it weren't for his circuit designs and interface and control programming. Sure, there were other programmers and engineers attached to the project, but they were nothing more than his assistants – he provided all direction and approved everything himself, right down to the HUD's color-scheme. The Army had built Frankenstein's monster – he'd given it its brain.

'This is a historic project, Lieutenant. It'll change the world.' Ugh. They weren't kidding. But this was never supposed to happen. Ha. I still shouldn't be so surprised. Only proves how naïve I've turned out to be. He began chewing through a second slice of pizza. I should have considered the possibility of something like this before I signed on to this project. But the chance of this particular scenario ... I never even thought of it, and the possible benefits were too great. How could I have been so stupid? He grinned sardonically and glanced at a picture on the wall. He stood to the left side of it, smiling brightly. He was a a good number of years younger, though part of him was pleased to note that he hadn't really aged at all. In the center stood a relatively tall, confident reploid known to the world as Gate. The brilliant madman-to-be had one arm slung around the human, and another over the shoulder of a smiling, blond, blue-eyed female reploid. His two best students, Dixon recalled, the grin on his face widening slightly. I did it for her. So she could be happy, and safe, like she's always deserved. Like they've all deserved. The grin disappeared, and he paled. But I've ruined any chance of that, haven't I? Oh, God ...

"Damn it!" His suddenly shaking hand had dropped a slice of pizza into his lap. He yanked it up and dabbed at the mess with a towel. After a few moments, he declared his uniform trousers a lost cause and went back to his food, and his thoughts. "Oh, what have I done?" I've gotten at least one man killed. How many innocent bystanders died with him? How many lives have I ruined? He looked at the report on his coffee table and realized he really did need to read it eventually.

Then another thought struck him, and in the span of a second, self-pity turned to righteous anger. It didn't take a computer genius to know that something in that meeting was off. It was no secret that General MacDonald didn't respect him at all. Up to now, the engineer really didn't have a problem with that. The man was an insufferable, rude, pathetic excuse for a human being. Until today, Dixon hadn't had a problem overlooking that. He didn't mind putting up with the man's crude pettiness, so long as he completed his task and saw the XCBM used to benefit those brave men and women who put their lives on the line to keep Sigma from bringing civilization to its knees.

That was then. It was fairly easy now for Dixon to tell that he'd been used. Hindsight's not twenty-twenty. Hindsight's a bitch. But there was no denying it anymore. He was being manipulated. MacDonald, in his arrogance, had all but confirmed it. The General obviously thought of him as a lesser form of human, and treated him accordingly. He wouldn't have had anything but a vague weariness, but the gleam in MacDonald's eyes when he threw him out of the meeting – which he seemingly didn't try to hide on account of his assumption that the computer genius was some kind of social dunce – reminded Dixon of the look on his father's face before dismissing him from a room so that the old man and his mother could talk about "adult things." After years and years of seeing that expression, it was quite easy to identify in others. He was honestly surprised that this was the first time he'd caught it from the XCBM Project Commander. His first thought was that MacDonald had reached a new level of contempt for him, and didn't care what he saw. But, after thinking about it, he knew that wasn't it. No, MacDonald had slipped up, pure and simple. Something has him rattled. And whatever it is, I'm not supposed to know about it. That's why they threw me out. But the meeting went on for at least fifteen minutes. What are they hiding from me? Could there be some aspect of this project I'm not aware of? He shuddered at the thought. That would certainly classify as being used. Then, there were the hints that he was about to be dropped from the project team. But that made no sense, when he stopped and thought about it. Supposedly, the team was a development group. Its mission was to prepare the XCBM for roll out, and they would be done when the higher ups put the final stamp of approval on the prototype design. But if that had already happened, why was he the only one getting dismissed? The whole lot – MacDonald, Blake, Montalbaan – they should have all been talking about packing their bags too. And where the hell was Winters? No, there are just too many pieces of the puzzle that don't fit together. His face darkened as an altogether totally unpleasant thought occurred to him. Then again, the pieces may fit together perfectly. Perhaps I've been given the wrong picture.

He couldn't deny the possibility that there was more to the XCBM Project than he was being led to believe. It was his duty as a scientist, and a good human being, to make sure his research and designs weren't used to bring about anything truly malevolent. He found himself looking at the picture on the wall again. If that was his obligation, some would say he already failed. His face hardened. He had already indirectly facilitated the deaths of far too many innocents. It was time to do a little digging around the Defense Department's computers and figure out just what was going on, rank and protocol be damned. He would willingly be no one's pawn.

Dixon grabbed his pizza and his root beer, tucked Winters' report under his arm, and headed for his office. He wanted answers. That meant he had a little work to do. It didn't matter how long it was going to take. He would know the truth, no matter what it took. And in the end, if it was warranted, so would she.

In spite of everything, Acting Commander Quinn of the Seventeenth Unit found himself gliding swiftly towards Signas' office, when by his own admission he didn't want to be there. He'd spent the last few hours much as Zero had, trying to get his unit regrouped and ready for any emergency that might pop up and attempting to ascertain the emotional states of his comrades. All in all, he was relatively pleased with the condition of his friends, given the circumstances. Sure, there was everything from red-hot fury to his own doused anger, to deep, unutterable sorrow, but with the exception of one, everyone actually seemed to be dealing with their emotions. Even Beth's sudden reluctance to let him leave her sight for any extended period of time, though it pained him to see her so anxious, could be considered a form of grieving. Alia was another matter. Her feelings, or lack thereof, were something he didn't really know how to deal with. One minute she would be pulling a rather impressive imitation of an emotionless rock, and the next she would be giving off enough anger to make people discretely remove themselves from her path in fear. Zero seemed to be making an attempt to work with her, though, and that was good enough for the animaloid. After all, he actually knows what in the hell is going on around here. If anyone's going to be able to talk to her about this, it'll be him. For just an instant, he wondered if he had been summoned so he could be let in on the true nature of recent events, but he ruled that out rather quickly. Zero sounded too ashamed earlier. He knew there was no way I was finding out about anything anytime soon. That leaves the other, less desirable situation – official promotion. It's been over four hours since X's death. If he left any recommendation, Signas has no doubt seen it by now. And the big guy will want to keep all the cogs and sprockets running smoothly. The tiger-like reploid drew a hand to his uniform's metallic crest, running a finger over the three pips indicating his rank. Two solid silver, the third a golden ring, together indicative of a Lieutenant Commander. He had often wondered what it would be like to have that third piece of silver, to lead his own unit into combat, but he had never actively pursued the matter, and he had certainly never thought that he would be given the Seventeenth after X's death. He had always assumed his fate would be like that of every other second-in-command of the over-sized elite squad since it had been given to the Blue Bomber. He would either die in combat (though he had enough self-confidence and reason to live that he almost never considered this possibility), or would eventually be offered leadership of another unit after the senior staff decided he had enough experience. But he didn't want it, not like this.

But that's not the point, he reminded himself, if I've got it, that's it. If X recommended me to replace him, he did it because he trusted me ... because he believed in me. I may not want to assume command under these circumstances, but if I have to, I will. He grinned sardonically. Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll just want to ask me for a status report ... but probably not.

Much sooner than he would have liked, Quinn found himself standing in front of the door to the Grand Commander's office. He squared his shoulders and knocked. Almost at once, the two metal plates slid away from each other, and he entered. Signas was standing in front of his desk, waiting for him with a tired smile. He gestured to a chair. "Please sit down, Lieutenant Commander. Would you like something?"

Quinn took the indicated seat, slightly relieved that Signas had referred to him by his current, official rank. "No sir, I'm fine. Unless you've come up with a way for us to get drunk."

Signas smirked as he took his seat behind the desk. "I have one of our research teams working on it." Quinn chuckled softly, but quickly regained his composure when his superior's face grew serious again. "There are a few things I need to discuss with you about the current situation. First thing's first, though." His face softened enough to let the white tiger know he really was concerned. "How are you and your friends doing?"

Quinn shrugged. "For the most part, as well as can be expected, I guess. Ajax and Canyon are," he mock shuddered, "deeply involved in a low-key game of Monopoly with a couple of guys from Zero's unit that's been going on for two hours, but they seem to have worked off most their initial anger. As long as they're thinking straight, I have no complaints. Onyx is ... well ... being Onyx. He's not saying much, but he seems to be doing okay." He actually smiled as he continued. "As for Stacy and Brent, I have no idea how either of them are doing. They haven't been able to get off the phones in almost four hours. There are times I envy humans for having that kind of family structure, but I'd prefer the two of them get through today with their hearing intact. Aaron seems ... calm enough, and last time I saw him, Mark was engrossed in a book. Beth isn't too thrilled about letting me out of her sight right now, but I think that's got more to do with the fact that no one outside the senior staff knows what happened to X. She's very level headed, you know, but the whole idea of some thing lurking out there that could take X down, that we aren't allowed to know about, has her a little on edge. Then there's Alia. That's a mess, but that's pretty much all I can say on the subject. Zero stopped by a few hours ago. He seems to be trying to talk to her, but I can't tell if he did any good. The four of us – Beth, Onyx, Aaron, and myself – we've worked out a schedule that keeps at least one of us available in our common room at all reasonable hours, just in case she wants to talk. I'm not sure how long we can keep that up, given the hectic nature of our jobs, but we all felt it was worth it to make the effort. She's one of us, and she's hurting. We're going to do whatever we can for her, but admittedly, at the moment, that isn't much."

Signas listened quietly as Quinn spoke, nodding slightly when he heard something he liked and trying not to frown when he didn't. As the animaloid spoke, it became increasingly clear to the Grand Commander why X wanted him to replace him. His squad-mates were his friends – one obviously more than that – that much was clear in the tone of voice and look in his eyes when he described them. At the same time, he remained detached, and was doing a marvelous job of not letting his emotions cloud his actions or color his speech. That was a useful combination in any leader. He would never say anything, but he was especially impressed with the almost familial way the Lieutenant Commander referred to them. Not every unit was so tightly knit, even if most of them were smaller. He sighed. It was time to speak again. "It sounds like you have things well under control. I realize the UNHOC order has put a lot of strain on everyone here, the ten of you especially. I applaud your efforts to help Alia. I'm sure she'll eventually come to one of you, but I'm not sure how soon. But you didn't completely answer my question. How are you doing, Quinn?"

It took all his self control not to groan in front of his commanding officer. He had been expecting this, after all, but still – expectation and reality were could be wonderfully incongruent on occasion, and he was an optimist, after all. He sat back in his chair. "I'm ... I'm fine, Commander." Signas raised an eyebrow, seemingly transmitting the universal "give it up" signal. "Just a little overwhelmed. I never expected to be the Acting Commander of the Seventeenth. Certainly not under these circumstances. I'm sure I can handle any added responsibility until somebody gets an official promotion."

Signas tilted his head, face serene. "And you don't think that somebody should be you?"

Quinn shifted in his seat. "Well, sir ... permission to speak freely?"

"That phrase translates into 'permission to be honest,' Lieutenant Commander. Permission always granted."

Quinn felt himself relax a little. Signas was never as imposing as he expected him to be. "I ... I just feel I'm not the right person to replace him, sir."

Signas grinned. So that's it. "Quinn, no one expects you to replace X. I'm not sure anyone can do that. You certainly can't, because you're not the same person. But you have all the qualities X respected in a Commander. You care about what you do, about the people you serve with, you're good at controlling your temper under pressure, and you're here for all the right reasons. Not only that, but you've managed to do something he never could."

"I beg your pardon?" Quinn was following along pretty well, right up until that last sentence.

"You have a life outside all this." He waved his arm as if to indicate all of Maverick Hunter Headquarters. "Man, you're engaged to be married! Not that you're going to have an easy time finding anyone to perform the ceremony, but that's beside the point. You managed to do what he never got the chance to do – you're a Hunter, and you do your job well, but you've managed to make your life about more than that. He respected that more than you can imagine."

Quinn found his head swimming a little at his superior's latest set of revelations. He never realized X thought of him that way, there was no indication of it whatsoever. "Sir, how can you –" he began, but was cut off.

"How can I know what I say is true?" He held up a sheet of paper marked "Promotion Recommendation" at the top. "Because everything I've just told you, he made sure I knew. There's only one question left for you to answer, Quinn. You've already told me you feel you can command the Seventeenth. X thought you were the best person for the job. I find myself agreeing with him. If you want it, it's yours." He paused for a few seconds. "Well? You can take some time to think about it, but I'll be honest. The sooner I have your answer, the better."

Quinn steepled his fingers, tapping his nails against each other. So, this is it. Decision time. Almost instantly, he realized there was no decision to be made. X was willing to trust him with this responsibility; thought he would be the best for the job. He didn't know if it made him an egotistical person or not, but deep inside, he couldn't help but feel slightly proud that the deceased Commander had thought of him with that much respect. More than anything else, X always tried to do what was best for his unit – despite the fact that they went on more suicide missions than the rest of the Hunter population combined, X always did whatever he could to make sure they came out on the other side of the gauntlet in one piece. He realized at once that he'd been chosen because the legendary Commander thought he was the best person to watch over them now that he was gone. Decision made.

"I accept, sir."

Signas smiled again, allowing himself a much wider pleased expression than Quinn had yet seen from him that day. "I thought you would. I have a couple of things for you." He reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small leather case, passing it to Quinn. The animaloid opened it slowly, revealing a Maverick Hunter's crest, dotted with three solid, silver pips. He couldn't help the tears that began to form, and didn't try to. "Good luck, Commander."

"Thank ... thank you, sir."

"I have something else for you. The recommendation letter X left for me had a sealed attachment on it, to be given to you if you accepted the promotion. I believe he left you a note. I'll transfer it to your terminal as soon as I input your promotion into the computer's database." Quinn nodded mutely. "Your intelligence clearance will be updated accordingly and you'll be getting a list of the briefings you need to be keeping up on now. I've also got a couple of things you need to take care of as soon as possible."

The newest Hunter Commander tried not to look surprised. "Okay. What do I need to do?"

"It's your responsibility, of course, to choose your second-in-command. At the moment, you technically already have one – Lieutenant Commander Alia is attached to your unit, and currently holds the second highest rank in said unit. However, she isn't cleared for field duty, and as you know, regulations require your second be a field officer that can take over for you in the event you're incapacitated, so it can't be your spotter. Whomever you choose will be promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Anyone in mind?"

Quinn had a couple of ideas. "I think so."

"Good. One other thing." Now Signas was looking uncomfortable, and Quinn had a good idea why. "As I'm sure you're aware, at the moment, Unit Seventeen is not at full strength. At your earliest possible convenience, I need to to look through the incoming and transfer roster and choose a tenth Hunter. You'll have access to roster database from your terminal."

Quinn nodded again. That's gonna be fun. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Yes." He tapped his own Hunter's crest. It looked just like any Commander's, except that its body was gold instead of silver. "You need to change. Good luck, Commander. If you need anything, let me know. Dismissed."

When Quinn, wearing his new Unit Commander's crest, turned into Unit Seventeen's living cluster, he was moderately surprised by the sight that greeted him. With the notable but not unexpected exception of Alia, everyone was spread around the common area and seemed, against all odds, to actually be having a little social gathering. Even Brent and Stacy had managed to get away from the phones, which, he supposed, was quite an impressive feat. The two of them, understandably not interested in doing much talking, were playing a game of chess in the corner. Onyx was watching them closely. The ebony-haired, green-eyed human twins were actually smiling playfully at each other – that was nice to see. Of course, if I had just escaped a horde of unrelenting, concerned relatives, I would most likely be smiling too. Beth and Aaron were engrossed in a game of pool (She's winning, he thought, grinning), and Ajax and Canyon, along with Mark, had seemingly started another game of Monopoly.

Ajax, a moderately tall, ebony-skinned, silver haired humanoid with a thick build, noticed Quinn first. More accurately, he noticed what was different about him, namely the rank pips on his arm. He nudged his companions and nodded his head in Quinn's direction, and it began. Canyon, an albino reploid that bore a striking resemblance to Armored Armadillo, seemed to somehow grow paler. Mark stopped what he was doing and simply watched the Commander. Almost instantly, the room grew silent as the others caught on to the change. Normally, most wouldn't have given him such a close inspection, but the obviously nervous look in his eyes begged a second look. Everyone, even Beth, seemed to be in a state of momentary shock, as though they couldn't believe what they were seeing, and didn't know what to do. And why shouldn't they look like that? How many of us ever thought I'd be wearing a Commander's crest while I was still attached to this unit? He noted with some relief that no one seemed to be looking at him with contempt or doubt, but he would have liked it very much if one of them moved. Later, thinking back on the scene, he realized he had no idea how much longer they would have all stood there staring at each other if it hadn't been for what happened next.

Alia exited her quarters slowly, with all the grace of a bear who had just woken up after a long winter's nap, and leaned against the wall. All eyes in the room turned to the now reclusive spotter, and she instantly began to take in the scene, trying to figure out why it had suddenly gotten so quiet. Her eyes, those unrelenting blue spheres that missed nothing, washed over Quinn, stopping for the briefest of instants on his shoulder before locking with his own irises. All at once, she straightened up, and turned to face him head on. She spoke. "Welcome back, Commander. I trust your meeting with Commander Signas went well. Unit Seventeen ... at attention." Her right hand flew to her forehead in a crisp salute. Within moments, everyone in the room was following her example. She smiled thinly at him, and for the first time since X's death, Quinn noticed the faint trace of approval in her tired eyes. He felt a weight he didn't know he was bearing lift from his shoulders, and let a small smile grace his own face as she turned and went back into her quarters. The tension in the room broke, and everyone began talking again, offering him congratulations and varied apologies for "zoning out." He felt Beth's arm wrap around his waist, and relaxed a little. He looked into her face, which was currently lighted by a bright, reassuring grin. Maybe he could do this after all.

"Quinn, are you planning on coming to bed anytime soon?" Beth appeared in the doorway of the Commander's office with a concerned look on her face. The air conditioning system ruffled the bottom of her powder blue nightgown just slightly, and gave her the appearance of floating on air. The animaloid had told her he needed to take care of a couple things before he went to sleep. That was thirty minutes ago. He was still sitting at his desk, in uniform, staring at his terminal with his head supported in his hand. He didn't seem aware of her presence, and she furrowed her brow. I'll just have to do something about that.

Quinn still seemed unaware that there was anyone else in the room – at least until Beth sat softly on the side of his chair and started ruffling his hair. He jumped in his seat and turned to look at her. "Sorry. I guess I got a little zoned out there."

She smirked. "A little? Did you even hear me a second ago?"

"Uh ... okay. More than a little."

Beth's face darkened a little in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, really. I just sat down to check my e-mail, and I had a little more than I expected." He motioned at the screen. "Look at this mess."

Beth followed his gaze, and her eyes widened slightly. There were at least three hundred messages that were less than twenty-four hours, most labeled with some form of high security clearance. "What ... what is all that?"

"The first peril of command," he quipped dryly. "Paperwork, status reports, intelligence briefings that I need to catch up on ... I don't know how he managed to ever get anything done. I've filled out four forms in the last thirty minutes and have had ten more appear in my inbox. It's a wonder we ever saw him at all."

"You'll do fine. X wasn't alone in his belief in your abilities. You aren't going to be expected to do everything at once. You haven't even been in charge for twelve hours yet. What are those?" She indicated a list of names in one of the corners.

He frowned slightly. "Dossiers. Candidates for admission to the Seventeenth. I haven't managed to bring myself to think about that yet."

Beth blinked. "What? Candidates for admission?" Her shoulders sagged a little. "I guess we do need to be at full strength, don't we?"

"Yeah. The world keeps turning, I guess."

"I'm sorry about earlier, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. What is she talking about? He intended to ask her, but all he managed was a confused, "Huh?"

Beth shifted uncomfortably on her perch, and finally said, "About earlier ... when ... when you came back from meeting with Signas. I shouldn't have just stood there and gawked at you like that. You know I think you deserve this, and I know you'll do the job well ... it was just," her face scrunched up a little, "seeing you, wearing that, it just made everything more ... final."

All at once, he understood, and he couldn't help the reassuring smile that crossed his face. "Beth, honey, you don't have to apologize to me for anything, least of all that. Do you really think I expected to walk in and have everybody just give me a thumbs up and go about their business? This isn't a normal event. I was just so thrilled that no one openly glared at me." He grinned again, hoping to erase any further doubts from her mind.

"None of us would ever do that. We all trust you. You know how much I trust you, and always will. I'll admit though, seeing you walk through that door wearing this," she tapped his shoulder, "it kind of scared me a little."

Okay, he had no explanation for that. "Scared you? Why?"

Beth found a very interesting spot on the floor that was worthy of extended analysis. "Well, I've been thinking about it, and we've been really lucky, you know? That we found each other when we did, and have gotten the opportunity to spend so much time together, and ... nothing really serious has ever really happened to either of us, never mind the fact that the Seventeenth has the highest mortality rate in the Hunter organization. I never really thought about it until now. When X died, I saw how much it hurt Alia, and she wasn't even with him yet. I don't want to ever lose you – I don't think I could deal with it. Now you're going to be where X always was – right in the thick of every major battle. I thought about all this in that moment when I saw you, and I guess ... I guess I froze. All at once, I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like if you were gone. I know I shouldn't be letting my emotions jerk me around like this, but I can't help it."

Without realizing it, he swiftly brought both his arms up and pulled Beth into a tight embrace. He pulled her into his lap and made an effort to get her to look him in the eyes. He hated to admit it, but he hadn't once even considered what ... additional effect X's death might have on her. "Beth," he started, after a very pregnant pause, "you're right. We've been very lucky. When we started our relationship, we both knew that we were taking a risk. And we accepted that risk. There hasn't been one single time we've been dispatched that I haven't, for the briefest of instants, wondered if this is going to be the one that takes you away from me. But I've never let it stop me, because its my responsibility not to bow to my own fears. I always trust that, at the end of the day, you'll be there waiting for me, and I'll be there waiting for you. That's the only way I can keep playing the game. There may come a time when one of us doesn't make it out of a mission, but nothing's changed. I'm in no more danger right now than I was before. X didn't die because he was a Unit Commander, and more importantly, I'm not X. No one will expect me to do half the impossible, crazy things he did. If I thought anyone was going to, I wouldn't have taken the job. I'm just going to keep doing what I've always done – the best I can, as carefully as I can. As long as you still want to, I'm willing to take the risk, because I've never been happier than I am now, with you. We risk our lives everyday for people who, for the most part, hate us. We shouldn't be afraid to take risks for ourselves."

Beth snuggled into his chest and felt all the tension leave her body. She was thrilled that he hadn't snapped at her for being immature. I guess I wasn't. "I'll always be willing to take risks with you. Just promise me one thing."

"Sure. Anything."

"Don't do anything too terribly stupid out there, unless you've run out of good and moderately stupid ideas."

He smiled. "Done."

"One other thing."

"Yeah?"

"Log off and come to bed. It's late, and this mess will be here waiting for you when you wake up."

"I have no problem with that. If you would be so kind as to get off of me?" She punched his shoulder and shifted her weight, and the two of them rose. As they headed to bed, Quinn heard the words of X's letter to him echo in his head.

Quinn, if you're reading this, two things have happened. Fate finally caught up with me, and I am no longer a member of the living world. More importantly, you've accepted command of the Seventeenth. You can never know how pleased I am by your decision. Quinn, from the time I started as a Hunter to the day I died, almost twenty-seven years passed. The Seventeenth has been under my command for most of that time – the only notable exceptions being before I was promoted to the rank of Commander and those rare, annoying instances when I was called in to oversee all Hunter operations. A lot of brave men and women have come and gone over the years, but one thing never changed. I've always had to have a plan for what should happen if I one day didn't happen to walk away from a battle.

With a few exceptions that I've tried my best to forget, I've been proud to fight beside the dozens of Hunters that have passed through our over-sized assault unit over the years. They've all been brave, noble, and none of them – not once – has ever failed to do everything in their power to complete their missions and keep the innocent safe. That's the mark of a hero, not the propagandist crap the media and governments dumped on me. You are no exception, my friend. But I couldn't choose them all to take over. I've left this message for you so that you will, hopefully, better understand my motivation in recommending you to replace me.

To be honest, I wouldn't want to choose them all. It takes a special kind of person to do what we do, I won't dare deny that, but it takes an even more rare type to lead. When you lead, you aren't just looking out for yourself, and your individual mission objectives, you're looking out for everyone around you. They say that, despite such humanitarian measures as the Geneva Convention, war has no rules, no boundaries. That's not exactly true. The Commanders make the rules, Quinn. The Commanders set the example their troops should follow, and, most importantly, watch out for those people under their control. If you show no fear, they'll show no fear, because you're the one they're watching, all the time. I remember when I figured that out. You could have knocked me over with a well placed hydrogen atom.

You're probably wondering where I'm going with this, because you knew me. You know I never, ever thought I was better than any one of you. And as I'm writing this letter, I still don't. I'm just a guy, given a responsibility no sane man would want, and asked to actually do something with it. And I do my best. But I have never once tried to be a Commander. Never once have I thought of things from the elevated viewpoint my rank allows. I'm not a better person than any one of you, certainly not on account of the pips on my arm. I've just been myself, and, at the risk of sounding vain, it's worked pretty well.

Like I said, I've always tried to just act natural and not let anything go to my head. Maybe that's how I managed to be more comfortable in this position than I ever had any right to be. When it came time to choose a person for my recommendation to Signas this last time around, I did something I've done many times before. I sat down, and I asked myself, who could be a great Commander without actually trying to be a Commander? That's you, Quinn.

I've been watching you for the last four years, and from the first moment I saw you, I've been impressed by what I've seen. You're humble, calm, confident, cool under pressure, and you've never been afraid to tell me when you think I'm about to something completely insane. And while you usually agree with me in the end that the insanity is warranted, I've always been impressed by the fact you weren't afraid to talk back to "the legend." And I don't mean simply question. I mean getting up in my face and telling me I'm out of my mind. The first time you did it, and I saw the look in your eyes, I realized you didn't care anything about being a Unit Lieutenant Commander, or getting in my good graces, or anything that could be remotely considered career related. You have no idea how much respect you earned yourself in that one moment.

And yes, okay, so you aren't the only one who's had the courage to talk back to me before, or that cares deeply about what you do. You aren't the only one that stays calm when all of hell is opened up and spitting its fury at us. But you have something that sets you apart from all of them.

A lot of people don't understand what we're fighting for anymore. Are we fighting to protect a race that hates us? Are we fighting for ourselves? Some combination of both? I think you've answered that question for yourself. You have a life outside the fighting, Quinn. You and Beth have each other. You've managed to maintain a real, loving relationship in the middle of all this ... well sometimes it's difficult to find words to describe this mess. When I saw that, I knew I had my replacement. You know what that says about you? It says you understand why we have to do this. Free will. The right to live. The humans can hate us all they want, but we're living, breathing people, and we will always deserve to live. But Quinn – I don't know if you realize this or not – you're living now. There are times I envy you for that, my friend. It's time for the Seventeenth to be led by someone who knows how to live.

I'm leaving everything, and everyone, in your very capable hands. I know you will lead them well. I won't give you any advice on how to do things, because you're not me, and you'll do things your own way. Just remember, whatever happens, the Seventeenth stands together, therein lies its strength. Good luck.

Sincerely,

Mega Man X