Jericho Old New Hope Chapter 3, a mega man fanfic

The great desert of the planet in the autumn days of the 21XX years had been growing for a number of decades now. And although the process had been slow, it now covered the entire continent for many hundreds of miles from the equator. The northern expanse was the largest part and many dangerous things now dwelled in its vast, unforgiving sands. Thus, as it became more and more inhospitable, the mavericks of the war began to grow in number. With less people living in the barren wastes, less hunters were needed to maintain their safety, meaning reploids of ill mind could hide out in the sands with a greater chance of doing so undetected. It was this chain of events that had lead to the desert of today becoming so dangerous to cross from north to south. Contending with the sheer size of it was hard enough, even without the residents. It was this knowledge that Jericho counted himself lucky for making it through his first night without confrontation. Though as he continued his unhindered morning race across the sand as quick as his desert bike would let him, he still knew full well that something was bugging him.

He hadn't slept to well. He had to keep his helmet on during the night and was woken many times by the same faint blip and uneasy feeling he had felt while wondering round his ex-home. He was now growing more and more concerned that something was almost certainly tracking him from the air. But he had his doubts. If the signal was coming from some kind of monitoring device, why had no one intercepted him after the scanner had detected him? Perhaps there was no one around to receive the signal anymore. If the attack on the base had not been an isolated incident, perhaps the whole region had now fallen.

Or perhaps it wasn't a monitoring device.

Either way, it hadn't ventured any closer yet, so Jericho tried to concentrate on other things. Like watching out for things on the horizon and trying not to fall off his transport at 100mph onto the often rough terrain.

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Contray to what the few remaining governments would have the general civilian population believe, not all the mavericks of the world attack as individuals or at random. Most had now adapted and groups of organised, killer reploids had existed for many years now. Anyone in the business of hunting them knew this. The desert was no exception to this evolution of smart mavericks, using cunning, co-operation and intelligence to get their own way. Unfortunately for Jericho's friends and comrades, one such group had established themselves, undetected, in the very same region as the hunter base outpost and now reigned free and supreme over the whole area.

The established leader of this perticular group stood deep under groud in this hidden outpost, scanning his eyes over a map of the area he now overlorded. He looked up from it briefly as a small, crome and red reploid entered waving a clipboard and looking about ready to pop with whatever bothered him.

"Sir. News from the scout party at malbro!" He waved his little arms around but quickly calmed himself down as he noticed the glare of his leader looking at him.

The worker bot stood only half the size of its master, and was intimidated by this fact. He hid it quite well, straightening up to stand as tall as his little body would let him.

"Did he make it out alive?" the shadowy figure asked with a deep voice.

"He has sir," the little reploid answered, a little annoyance in his tone gave away what he and the rest of the gang thought of this, "He appears to have killed Milo almost right where we left him at those transport warehouses and taken off into the desert"

The cloaked figure laughed, seemingly not caring what his hunters thought of that, stepping away from the work bench and looked out across his makeshift office, "So... It is him...I knew It. Jericho. And he's grown stronger. Very good..."

The reporting reploid tapped his clipboard and added, "judging by what the scouts have found, he left shortly before they arrived yesterday evening. He's heading North my master. Most likely to Neopolis City"

The dark reploid now sat in a chair, nodding in agreement, "That would be his only option..." he went quiet again.

A cough, "Would you have us kill him now?" the minute reploid inquired rather coldly, grinning at his own evil thoughts.

The figure turned in his chair, a hand on his chin, "No... I want him alive. Dispatch everyone. I want him brought to me immediatly"

The little reploid frowned but tried not to let his master see, simply answering, "Understood Sir...". He turned to leave.

"Minrikk" the deep voice enquired, stopping the little reploid in his tracks, "Unharmed would be good too. And get to him quickly. He could prove very useful to us. We're not the only dangerous bastards lurking in this dammed desert. And Thrasher is out there somewhere running solo now. Jericho may have handled his brother valiantly, but we dont know the state of his condition after his fight with Milo..."

"Very good Sir. We wont fail you."

"Dont let him reach Neopolis!" the dark reploid called after his servent as he exited the bunker. "...Jericho. Hmmmm..."

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It had been almost 24 hours since Jericho had set out across the desert in search of safety to the north at Neopolis. His progress had been a little slower then he would have liked. He hadn't counted on having to stop every time his helmet radar detected a new signal. It was hot and shade was rare at best. He remained perched on his bike, quietly listening to the blips and echoes from anomolys across the desert. Some he had identified as native wildlife. The larger creatures of the wilderness that he could hear as they stampeded across the land. Others were more worrying. Signals from reploids. Signals from possible mavericks. He knew he had to avoided confrontation at all costs. If he fell one enemy, the rest would pick up on it and would swarm the area. It was tricky to navigate, but so far Jericho was quite sure he'd pulled it off undetected.

However, there were still several days of travel to go and Jericho couldn't help but notice that the number of signals that seemed to almost pursue him from the way he came was increasing. He frowned a little. Perhaps these pests didn't know who they were following or where they were following him too, he thought. But he still didn't want them catching him.

He started up the air bike again and blasted off in a cloud of sand.

More hours passed and Jericho became more concerned as the signals from the south continued to give chase and grow in number. He began to ponder if he should be trying harder to evade them. But the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became at his lack of options. He cursed at his situation, "Damn mavericks! Damn desert!" He gritted his teeth as he made it over another hot dune, "Why did the base have to fall? Why did that fucking maverick leader have to let me live only to let his friends hunt me down like a dog when I woke? Why didn't he just kill me there and then? Why is that sand hill mov..Agh!" His eyes widened and shut tight again as he swereved to avoid running into the waiting jaws of a desert predator that broke through the surface and tried to swallow him and his bike whole. The bike spun out, throwing Jericho to the gritty ground in a cloud of smoke and sand. Jericho didn't have long to check if he was ok, or even what had just happened, before the renouned, half strangled roar of a sandword reached his ears. And a big one it was too. 50 ft long by Jericho's quick estimation. Very fat and very hairy, the monster roared loudly again as it lowered its head to sniff warily at Jericho's bike.

The hunter stood up and breathed heavily, shaking off the dizzyness from his fall. He drew a sabre in anger but quickly thought better of it. He couldnt tackle a sandword this big with a sabre. But he still couldn't afford to lose his ride. He was hot and bumped and time was rapidly running short on his bike, but he needed to keep a level head to get out of this one.

His thought trail missed a beat as the sandworm suddently began to open its vast jaws to snap up his bike and before even Jericho knew what he was doing, a smoke grenade had exploded behind the sandworm causing it to reel back and snarl at the cloud. Jericho saw his chance appear and thanked himself for picking up those smoke grenades in the back of that truck he explored back at the base. He moved into action, as he dashed for his bike, leaping on and firing it up again. The bump it took hadn't broken it and a good thing too, as the daddy of all worms was sizing him and his bike up again. Jericho excellerated away like he had a rocket up his tail pipe with the worm in close pursuit. It didn't follow for long as a charged shot from Jericho smashed it right in the head a few seconds later, sending it cowering back under the sand, wimpering.

"Ha!" Jericho exclaimed, half relieved and half celebrating at his escape. His truimpth was cut short and swiftly as he found himself thrown from the bike for a second time. This time however, the cause had been something he had been dreading since he started his journey.

"I found you, hunter!" a voice screamed at the back of his head as he was pinned to the ground by a clawed paw, "It's payback time. Payback for the murder of my brother..."

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"Let me go if you want to live..." Jericho threatened, trying not to hint that he couldn't move with the heavy weight pressing down on him.

The maverick squeezed his neck tighter, "No chance." He growled meanly, "Gimme a few minutes to enjoy you squirm some more and then I might start letting you go... piece by piece."

Jericho cringed as his head was twisted round from the sand to the side. Looking up out of the corner of his eye he could see the ugly face of the brute on top of him.

"You look familiar", Jericho pouted, "didn't I kick your butt already?"

He stifled a yelp as the maverick put more pressure onto his back with a hard knee. "That was my brother. And not just that, but my companion, my friend and partner in war! Do you know how long me and Mosh had been terrorizing this region? We were practically legends! Mosh and Thrasher. Our names put the fear in everyone who ever set foot in this desert." Jericho was silent as the angry maverick continued to vent, "And then all of a sudden, YOU come out of nowhere and put Mosh away like he was some stinking action figure? Who the hell do you think you are hunter?"

Jericho sniffed and glared up at the tiger face staring back at him.

"Well, I'm so sorry I didn't dispatch you both at the same time!"

That didn't go down well as the maverick roared at him and switched his paws to the front of his face and started pulling backwards, knee still in Jericho's back. A helpless Jericho was being folded up like a suitcase and all he could do was struggle to try and reach for his saber lying in the sand in front of him. He couldn't reach it and the pressure on his spine was increasing. He wailed as he nearly consoled himself to being snapped in two when the pressure suddenly eased and he heard Thrasher exclaim angrily. He opened his eyes and observed that they were now encircled by reploids in matching desert coloured armour, each one pointing either a buster or a machine gun at them. He didn't recognise any of them as friends. These were maverick soldiers. No doubt one of the local clans who had been tracking him. He began to wonder if his situation could get any worse.

A female voice began speaking. Jericho couldn't see her as he was still being held firm. She seemed authoritive and didn't seem to like what she saw. Jericho became puzzled by this.

"Thrasher! We are under orders to bring the hunter in alive! If you don't release him to us, we will take him from you."

This puzzled Jericho even more, "...alive?"

Thrashers voice was deep and raspy in reply, "You cowards wont keep me from my justice!" Jericho was suddenly freed and dropped into the sand again. He rolled over quickly to find his attacker and the maverick soldiers breaking into a fight. Thrasher was bigger then these grunts and was sweeping them aside like dolls, but he was outnumbered and found his hands very much full. Jericho saw his chance and took it, sweeping his weapon from the ground and activating it.

"The huntARG!" Jericho cut down a soldier as he tried to raise the attention of his comrads and leapt onto the back of Thrasher, who was distracted by his beat down on the others. Three slashes to the back of the head and the hulking maverick fell flat on its face. Dead.

The surviving maverick soldiers were quickly dispatched in the confusion and Jericho breathed heavily, powering down his sabre and surveying the carnage.

"That was lucky" he said to himself, rubbing his chest. He didn't have long to think about it as more signals started appearing on his helmet's radar. He cursed at his smashed bike and decided his only course of action now was to go on foot. Local mavericks had been alerted to his presence and were closing in. He gritted his teeth and ran off over the sand dunes. at least he was keeping a lower profile on foot then by bike, but how he would tackle the rest of the vast desert was a daunting task. He'd now added several days to his trip and he was in pretty bad shape already.

But he had no choice but to press on.

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"Such power..." A girl's voice spoke to herself as she pulled herself from under the fallen body of the fallen Thrasher. She climbed onto his back and looked around at her deceased company. "He HAS grown strong..." She stood up and looked back and forth, "Gone... but I know where you're going Jericho... I wont let you hide any longer. The time has come!" she leapt to the ground and began heading towards the north...

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