Chapter 9: Tricked into Community Service
Two hours later and they were leaving the marina in a little boat.
"This is stupid," Bass said.
"Perhaps," Dr. Cossack agreed.
They spent most of the time in peaceful silence, enjoying the gently rollicking sea and nice ocean breeze, occasionally chatting about completely inane topics like movies and video games and if Mega Man could beat various movie superheroes in a fight. Bass wasn't terribly interested in the fishing itself, but let Dr. Cossack walk him through the process anyway.
Eventually Dr. Cossack caught something. Fighting the whole time with the flailing snapper, he weighed and measured it, pulled the hook out with some pliers, and… tossed it back into the ocean.
"Wait, aren't you going to eat it?"
"Ah, no. I can never bring myself to kill them."
"Wh— are you serious? Why are we even out here?"
Some time after that, they each caught a baby halibut, possibly the same one— he didn't bother to get the stats on them. Later still, Bass pointed out a dolphin pod on the horizon.
Squinting and staring in that direction, Dr. Cossack was unable to see them.
"You're pretty good at this stuff," Bass said abruptly, without looking away from the water. He hesitated. "You— you know, like dad stuff." For a brief moment he glanced up and then looked away. "Thank you. For everything."
Before long the sun began to set and they headed back home.
From here the stars were intensely beautiful, brighter than they were from the ground.
Mega Man leaned against the large window, taking his eyes off the stars to look down at the Earth below, appreciating the irony of watching a meteor shower from the remains of Dr. Wily's space station of all places. Most of it had been destroyed, falling from the sky, with smaller chunks burning up on entry and larger piece being blasted apart by military planes or tanks before impact. Some sections had survived, however, and remained in a stable orbit around the planet. He'd been a little surprised that no one claimed it, either restoring it for scientific use or salvaging the material.
While he hadn't exactly forgotten it was up there— you could see reflected light in the night sky just like any other large satellite— it wasn't on the forefront of his mind, and so he rarely ever thought about it. Break Man, on the other hand, didn't just remember… he'd commandeered it as one of his many hideouts.
"Ooh, there." Roll pointed to the blaze of light that streaked across the atmosphere. From the low-orbit vantage point, the 'shooting stars' were visible right over the planet, and the ocean at night meant there were no city lights to compete. "Another one."
As much as he enjoyed the incredible sight, Mega Man was even happier to be invited to another of Break Man's 'retreats'. He'd only been to a few, so it was always pretty exciting.
Bass was more interested in the remains of the station itself. As many times as he'd been in space, he'd never been here, and there were very few of Wily's old forts he hadn't set foot on. He kept looking away from the window to glance around the room and take it all in. Being a space station, its design was different from the typical Skull Fortress. "This place is so cool." He was more annoyed than anything. "I can't believe Wily never made another one."
They continued to watch in silence, until Break Man decided to finally broach the one topic they'd all been avoiding.
"So, how's the movie business going?"
Groaning, Mega Man closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the window.
"That good, huh?"
"You know I actually thought they'd consult me? I wrote up a bunch of notes on the first draft, which they totally ignored, but it doesn't matter because they already threw out that script and fired the writer."
"Idiot," Bass said.
"Yeah, no offense," Roll teased, "but I can't believe you expected anything else."
Mega Man quickly changed the subject. "Hey, how do you guys feel about another soccer game?"
There was an awkward silence as the other three exchanged glances. Of course they'd all had fun and were looking forward to a rematch. But they also knew how Mega Man felt about soccer, and that if they weren't careful this was going to turn into an every weekend thing, and as much as they'd enjoyed it… they hadn't enjoyed it that much.
"What about something Dr. Light and everyone else can join in on?" Roll frantically tried to come up with a suggestion. "Something like… um…"
"Poker."
"Racing."
"…Bowling…" she said tentatively.
The others thought it over.
"Sure," Break Man said eventually, while Mega Man nodded in agreement.
"What's bowling?" asked Bass.
"Six months."
"What!? You're kidding, right? You can't just shut off my combat system for six months!"
"I can, and I will." Dr. Cossack paused to pull off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose. "What on Earth were you thinking? What gave you the idea that was even remotely acceptable?"
Bass continued to argue. "I need my combat system for, you know, combat. If some alien crash lands tomorrow—"
"Then Mega Man and Break Man will have to handle it on their own. You're grounded."
"You're blowing this way out of proportion."
"You drove a hovertruck into a bowling alley."
"It wasn't a hovertruck. It was a monster truck." He realized that this had been the wrong thing to say, and faltered under Dr. Cossack's stern gaze.
Bass had gotten in trouble before and been grounded like this— but he'd never had Dr. Cossack get genuinely upset with him. Unlike Wily's rage and fury, Dr. Cossack was deeply disappointed, which was somehow far worse. He could handle anger, could counter it. But this? This made him feel bad. He didn't like it.
"It was taking a stand against racism." Even as he said it he knew how much of a pathetic excuse it was, righteous indignation giving way to a sense of shame.
They had all earned lifetime bans from that bowling alley— including Kalinka— when the management discovered that nearly half the party were robots. Thankfully that was far as it went, because Mega Man had nobly taken the blame for the damaged equipment, and no one was about to take any sort of legal action against their world's greatest hero.
That wasn't going to help them here.
"…How did you even reach the pedals?" Dr. Cossack couldn't help ask.
For a half second Bass cheered up and broke into a mischievous grin. He could drive regular hovercars, but height had proved to be a problem with the enormous truck. "Treble took care of that while I steered." Then he looked alarmed. "Oh, crap. I just lost Treble for six months too, didn't I?"
To his horror, Dr. Cossack said nothing, and instead turned to leave. He was even more upset than Bass had realized.
"Sorry," he said sullenly. "That was a really stupid and irresponsible thing to do."
Dr. Cossack paused, backtracked, and took hold of Bass's shoulders.
"Whatever those ignorant people thought about robots— about you, a Wily robot— all you did was prove them right. The building itself can be repaired, but you'll never be able to undo the damage you caused."
Those words were like being stabbed in the heart. Thankfully, Dr. Cossack saw the effect it had and didn't hammer the point.
"And yes, you've successfully talked yourself out of having Treble while grounded."
It turned out to be one of those rare occasions where they simply lucked out.
The place had been losing revenue anyway, and the owner was happy to cut their losses and take the insurance money. To speed things along, they'd already reported the truck crash as an accident.
In the interest of not rocking the boat any further, Dr. Cossack preemptively offered to pay the deductible, and the issue was quietly resolved. He'd been more upset than Bass expected, but not nearly as upset as he should have been. He understood that this acting out was Bass's grief from the fall out with Ingrid, petty jealousy over the Giertz's new child, the lingering stress of almost losing everything now that he had something to lose, the apprehension over the changing relationship between Dr. Cossack and himself.
"I can't believe the stuff you get away with," Mega Man said, incredulous, and possibly a little envious.
Bass shrugged. "Guess I'm just lucky."
"Luck has nothing to do with it." Break Man made a point to reach over and flick Bass on the side of the head. "You just happen to be surrounded by people who are willing to clean up your messes."
"Hey, Dr. Cossack. I need some money."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You know, zenny."
Dr. Cossack scratched the side of his face and silently regarded Bass for a moment. "For…?"
"Since I can't use my built-in com, I need a handheld one, and the last time Break let me use his but this time he's being a jerk, and—"
"You're assuming that I'll give you permission to use a handheld com in the first place."
Bass fell silent, and looked suitably awkward.
"Permission you haven't asked for. In fact… I don't remember you asking the last time, either…"
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"I am not kidding."
There was an uneasy pause as Bass floundered, uncertain what to do and fighting the instinct to throw a fit.
"Ask me," Dr. Cossack prompted him.
"Can… I… use a handheld com?"
He made a show of pretending to think it over, holding out his hands and pantomiming as if physically weighing the options, then pacing back and forth a few steps while rubbing his chin. "Well, since you asked, instead of just doing it behind my back… yes, you may use a handheld com."
"Then can I have the zenny to get one?"
"No. What kind of example would I be setting if I paid for a toy which allows you to work around the punishment that I'd set for you?"
This time Bass had a quick response. "I'm not asking for your money. You get compensated for those government contracts, right? They're in your name, whatever, but I'm the one who does the work. It's only fair—"
"Ha!" Dr. Cossack slapped his knee, grinning. "Is that what you think? That you should be paid?" When there was no response, he laughed again. "Volchonok, you have yet to break even. I had to underbid as a part of the negotiations. Those agreements— contracts— are to protect both of us from your lack of self control, not to turn a profit. That same lack of self control keeps landing you further in debt. Toad Man, who you mocked, paid for himself in his first eighteen months, and now covers nearly half the overhead for this citadel. Are you sure you want to be keeping score?"
Well, that was it. Bass now officially hated the Cossack 'bots just as much as he'd hated the other Wily 'bots. The com issue momentarily forgotten, he crossed his arms and gave Dr. Cossack a disapproving look.
"You said we were mercenaries, but the way you're describing it now, it's more like you tricked me into doing community service."
"A little of both, perhaps, but my main concern was keeping myself out of jail and you from being impounded."
"…I thought that I was pulling my own weight around here."
"I don't expect you to. This arrangement wasn't conditional—"
"What arrangement? You never officially decided anything! 'No promises', remember?"
Dr. Cossack pressed his fist up against his lips, brows knit, as if lost in thought. "Ah, yes. That's right. Any day now, I might kick you to the curb, or sell you off to the Harts, or deactivate you…"
"It isn't funny."
"Bass, you are completely ridiculous." He reached out and placed a hand on the robot's head, slightly mussing his hair. "Stop worrying. Like it or not, I'm responsible for looking after you. All I ask in return is that you learn to exercise some restraint. The rest is freely given… except for a handheld com. I refuse to buy one."
Cossack Automation Industries was a business, and they put a lot into R&D, but at the end of the day it was still a business— and apparently, Bass was not a source of revenue.
A few days later he brought it back up.
"You could copy and sell some of Wily's tech."
"What makes you think I haven't?"
Bass looked surprised, and Dr. Cossack shook his head, chuckling.
"There wasn't much there, to tell you the truth. There weren't many innovations that applied to my work which Wily hadn't already patented." He waved dismissively. "As far as you're concerned, I believe it's in humanity's best interest to keep your AI off the market, and I wasn't able to reverse engineer that metal you're built from."
Bass looked uneasy. "I can access his patents and some of his old accounts, just not legally, since… you know. I don't have any claim to that stuff."
"Don't worry about it."
"But—"
"I said don't worry about it."
Only he found it impossible not to.
Bass couldn't explain what he felt. He wanted Dr. Cossack to be successful, and more importantly, he wanted to have a part in that… not take from it. Which was a sharp contrast to the conflict he'd felt about Wily's goals or success.
He kept thinking about that, and Break Man's comment about how others were cleaning up after him.
These concerns took him in a strange direction.
After talking to Kalinka and Giertz about it, he came up with a plan and started taking a closer look at the company finances. Dr. Cossack was reasonably good with handling money— a prerequisite for building all of this from nothing, but it certainly wasn't his forte. Bass had no interest in the subject, but he was also technically a walking computer, so auditing credits and debits, reviewing trends in profit margins, finding ways to safely reduce overhead and increase productivity, were all fairly simple tasks.
He found himself going over years of records and invoices and tax returns, then took his findings and suggestions to Dr. Cossack, who was equally parts amused and proud.
"Look at you, doing accounting work."
"Yeah, and I hate it."
Dr. Cossack glanced over the spreadsheet on the portable computer screen. "More or less than lab work?"
"They both suck."
"Heh." He looked back at Bass and smiled. "You don't need to do this, you know."
Bass, in turn, glowered and hesitated before replying. "I know. …I want to— to contribute."
"Well, I appreciate that. Right now, the best way to contribute is to stay out of trouble." Focusing his attention on the spreadsheet, Dr. Cossack murmured softly to himself before continuing. "Although, I wouldn't say 'no' to letting you handle the tax returns…"
As much as he wasn't looking forward to it, Bass was relieved.
- A/N: The whole bowling alley fiasco is very loosely based on a bit from the Rockman & Forte manga adaption, but mostly it was inspired by role playing tumblr blog princeofallrobot's hilarious spin on that.
- Dr. Cossack calls his kids 'Goldie' and 'Wolf Cub'.
- "You said we were mercenaries, but the way you're describing it now, it's more like you tricked me into doing community service." THAT IS PRECISELY WHAT HAPPENED. 😂
