Disclaimer: Metal Gear is not my work.
Snake glared down into the Discovery's cargo hold. "Otacon, the men down there are definitely Marines."
"…Are you surprised? You're on a Marine Tanker, looking for a Marine Metal Gear, trying to stop Russians from stealing said Metal Gear from the Marines. What did you expect, a legion of swimsuit models?"
"That would've been nice…"
"Yeah… anyways, can you see Metal Gear?"
"Nope. Look's like it's all the way back at the bow. The Marine commander's giving a speech. Must be why they're all down here."
"So the best plan the Marines had was to herd all their rank-and-file, well-equipped grunts to the cargo hold to listen to an old man blabber on about a top secret project, leaving unarmed crewmen to guard the rest of the ship?"
"Guess it's not just the bad guys who hire inept security planners. Anyways, what's the plan?"
"Easy, take pictures of the Metal Gear prototype, and then upload them to me; because a handful of photos of a giant hellish war machine definitely can't be explained away as fake. By the way, somebody's listening in on our conversation, so you can't send the pictures to me via CODEC."
"So… what am I supposed to do?"
"Um, the Marines seem to have left a computer with internet access and compatibility with digital cameras in the very same room as their Metal Gear."
"It's like they want their plans to prevent nuclear proliferation foiled."
"By the way, I've got a copy of Commander Dolph's speech."
"And?"
"Convuluted as Hell."
Snake probably should've been glad that Dolph simply couldn't shut up. It meant he had plenty of time to get his pictures and then leave. However, on the other hand, it meant that he had to listen to the semi-sane ramblings of a man who probably should've retired years ago. "Men, I know what you're thinking. 'Why did our commander decide to have us abandon our posts and line up in the cargo holds like cattle?'. And the answer is simple. Giant. Fucking. Killbot."
At once, the cargo holds burst into shouts of "Oo-Rah!", "Semper Fi!", and the decidedly less USMC-ish "Yay!".
"Gentlemen, today we live in a world where every nation that wants one can have a nuclear equipped, walking deathmobile. It is my sincerest hope that my daughter, and her children will never know the horrors of nuclear… HOLY SHIT BANDANNA WEARING JACKASS SNEAKING UP BEHIND YOU!"
As an entire contingent of Marines whipped around in shock, prepared to fight, a certain bandanna wearing clone, hiding behind a table, wondered how he had been spotted. He mulled over his options.
Can't exactly run. Too many to fight. Damn, is this it? Have I finally met my match in a blowhard marine commander? His musings ended abruptly, as said commander laughed and said "Just kidding. Seriously guys, you should've seen the looks on your faces."
Snake, wondering what kind of idiot would interrupt a big dramatic speech to psyche out his own men, had an epiphany. Dolph is an imbecile.
The Marines thought so too.
"Anyways, common sense dictates that the only way to fight Metal Gear is with another Metal Gear. Or a dude in a bandanna and a disturbingly tight spy outfit. But they tend to be fucking jackasses, so we'll go with the giant robot."
Snake clenched his teeth.
"Seriously, bandanna dudes suck. 'Rawr, I smoke a lot and have a cardboard fetish, now watch as I whine about how much conspiracies suck'. 'On the battlefield, something angsty occurs, blah, blah, let me repeat everyone else's words ver batim'. Christ, no wonder none of the CODEC ladies want to sleep with them."
"Cardboard fetish? On the battlefield something angsty occurs? Repeat everyone else's words? Otacon, can I just go home and let the Russians ruin Dolph's day?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!"
"Where was I? Oh yes, Giant Fucking Killbot. Anyways, as we all know, the number one threat to America now is…" Dolph trailed off.
"BEARS!" his men shouted in unison.
"Erm… No. The number one threat to America is Metal Gear, the Nuclear-Equipped Walking Battletank, or NEWB for short. Now, what is our job?"
"Own some NEWBS!"
"Now you're getting it. And how are we going to do that?"
"Giant fucking killbot!"
"Exactly! All right, as the old saying goes 'fight fire with fire'. Now, my attempts to prove said theory right have led to the destruction of my home, my pets, and a nationally protected wildlife sanctuary, however, I still think the underlying concept is sound… Anyways, let's all do a little stretching alright? LEFT!"
Snake, who had by this time managed to sneak into the second hold, and was sneaking along the left hand side of the room, dived for cover as several dozen marines shifted their gaze to the left. Unfortunately, the only cover he could find was a bizarrely placed modern art sculpture; leading our hero to adopt a pose that should not be attempted by any creature with an internal skeletal system in order to hide behind it.
"FORWARD!"
Our hero relaxed, and began to sneak forward again, when five seconds later…
"RIGHT! NO WAIT, I MEANT MY RIGHT, THAT'S YOUR LEFT GUYS!"
Snake once again was forced to contort his body in a manner reminiscent of certain varieties of mollusks.
"ALRIGHT, NOW BACKFLIP!"
The effect of an entire marine contingent clumsily leaping into each other like a, drunken, heavily armed Circe du Soleil show performed in an earthquake rocked the Discovery. Snake, the Russians, and every Marine on board wondered how the Hell Scott Dolph managed to become a Marine Commander. Or chew his own food, for that matter.
"LEFT AGAIN! I REALLY LIKE THAT DIRECTION!"
By this time, the Marines in Hold 2 had realized that a big metal wall separated themselves from their superior officer. They also realized that the aforementioned superior officer was clinically insane. They therefore elected to disregard all future ramblings and simply started looking at each other and talking about how no amount of free money for college was worth the shit they had to put up with, man. Snake used this opportunity to sneak forward, into hold 3.
"Otacon, I'm in the hold where Metal Gear is supposed to be… by the way, can I shoot Dolph? I promise I'll only aim for his kneecaps…"
"No. Look, you have to get pictures of Metal Gear…"
"Otacon, I think that may pose a problem… I can't see Metal Gear!"
"What do you mean? It should be right in the hold 3, behind Dolph?"
"Wait, do you mean behind Dolph, or behind the MechaGodzilla that is behind Dolph…"
"MechaGodzilla? Snake, what are you talking about?"
"Dude, it has a tail and glowy eyes, those Pentagon motherfuckers… insulting me and trying to put us out of a job was one thing, but trying to take out Godzilla with a robot duplicate… now it's personal! Don't they know that history shows, again and again, that nature points out the folly of man?"
"Snake, that isn't MechaGodzilla… that's Metal Gear!"
"But… the tail… glow eyes… seriously this thing has to be…"
"Snake, honestly, I don't give a damn anymore. Just take a few shots of the thing and leave. God, I need a drink and some aspirin."
"Anyways men, our Metal Gear RAY totally owns the Army's Metal Gear REX. I mean, it swims! How awesome is that? And once our Ray destroys every rogue states' Rexes, nuclear proliferation is over, because surely the bad guys would never think to build an even bigger Metal Gear. Or just launch the nuke before our Ray can swim to their shores. Or not put their Metal Gears right by the beach. Or just use an ICBM or something else to launch. By the way, rumors that our Ray can be taken out by the dilapidated husk of a Rex that was critically damaged and left to rust for about a decade are, as far as we know, unsubstantiated."
Snake snuck around as the commander continued his speech, getting several pictures of the metal behemoth.
"It's true that certain people are against our program. For instance, the Navy claims that RAY will derail their own Metal Gear project and put senior officers, in particular the ones in command of aircraft carriers and submarines out of a job. I say 'Good riddance, you whiny little bastards'!"
"Oo-rah!"
"And we've also had reports that an anti-Metal Gear group may try to disrupt our actions here, on this very night. I say 'Fuck you, you nerd and bandana-wearing jackass'!"
"Semper Fi!"
"And, a… major player is also against our plan. I say 'I banged your mom, ancient convoluted evil conspiracy thingamajig. And then your dad, too'!"
"…um… yay?"
Creeped out every bit as much as the Marines were, Snake snuck around to the photo lab at the back of the hold, deftly avoid being seen by Marines who were literally beginning to zone out from the combination of insanity and boredom.
"Alright Snake, got any… CODEC moments for me?"
"Otacon, if I could slap you through this computer screen, I would…"
"Alright… these pictures… suck… seriously, did you even use the flash? I can't make out anything. I can't tell if this is Metal Gear or your foot"
"Use the flash? Around the fifty or so ticked off Marines in this hold? Are you insane?"
"C'mon Snake, we need top of the line photographs if we're going to expose the Marine Corps' plan. Get back out their, and get some stylish, well lit photographs."
"No, that's it. The missions over. I haven't covered wars ya know, I've actually been through them. If you wanted better pictures, you should've hired a photographer, not a black ops badass."
"Fine, whiny jerk. Dolph's speech is just about over anyways. Just get back here in one piece and we'll see what we can do…"
"The world is heading for a future without the fear of nuclear annihilation. And we will, the Marine Corps, will lead it there, with Metal Gear RAY!"
The assembled Marines began clapping wildly, happy that they could finally stop listening to the windbag and go back to guarding the giant robot from any possible harm. They had survived the worst of Dolph's speech, and their mission would be smooth sailing from now on. But then… the sound of spurs began emanating from far behind Metal Gear.
"Excellent speech, my friend. And in case you missed the subtly, I'll spell it out 'You fucking suck worse at motivational speaking than that goddamn moron Liquid did'." A certain mustache-bearing, duster-wearing, constantly-swearing Russian cowboy said. "Gift of the silver tongue, heh. They say it's the mark of the true leader, and of a liar. Good to see you're neither."
"Burned!" the assembled Marines yelled out.
"Whose side are you guys on, anyways?" Dolph asked his men indignantly. Remembering that, though he might have been a long winded dolt, he was still their commander, the Marines formed up around Dolph and raised their rifles at Ocelot. Satisfied, Dolph addressed Ocelot. "And, who the fuck are you?"
"I am Shalashaska. Also known as…"
"Colonel Harlan Sanders?"
"Seriously? Go fuck yourself. As I was saying, they call me… Revolver…"
"Ocelot…" Snake finished, growling out his nemesis's name. Strangely, not one Marine seemed to notice.
"And what are you planning on doing when you steal Ray?"
"Steal?" Ocelot said in mock innocence. "I'm having it returned."
"But… we built it… I mean, frankly you can't return it to anyone, because we're the only ones who had it… I mean, if you stole it from us, you could later return it to us, which, don't get me wrong, would be a nice gesture. But why go through all the trouble stealing it if you're planning on returning it to us?"
At that moment, Colonel Sergei Gurlukovich grabbed Dolph from behind, holding a gun against the Marine Commander's head.
"Seriously guys? Nobody noticed the fat old Russian sneaking up behind me?" Dolph complained as Gurlukovich dragged him a few steps backwards. The Marines trained their rifles on the GRU leader.
Ocelot, annoyed that Sergei stole the spotlight from him, held up a detonator and yelled out "There is enough plastic explosives on board this ship to blow it out of the water. Look, just lower your guns… nobody has to die needlessly. I'm good ol' reliable Ocelot, remember?".
At that moment, Russian Soldiers began repelling from the ceiling, a few began messing around with RAY, whilst others covered the Marines. Meanwhile, the USMC troops in the other holds, figuring this was another convoluted training exercise by Dolph, carried on their conversations.
"What do you intend to do with RAY? Sell it on the streets?" Dolph growled at Gurlukovich.
"I was born in Snezhinsk, formerly known as Chelyabinsk-70, the nuclear research outpost."
"And I'm supposed to care about this because?"
"After the Cold War, my home was bought out by the Americans…"
As if on cue, the Marines in Hold 3, who were annoyed by the whole scenario, began repeatedly chanting "USA! USA!" to piss the Russian off.
"Fuck all of you! Land, friends, dignity… all sold to the highest bidder! The United States of America! Even the technology that gave birth to these weapons is Russian developed by us!"
"Aw… poor little Sergei? Sad that capitalism kicked your ass during the Cold War?" Dolph said, laughing. This spurred the Marines to chant louder.
Trying to ignore his enemies, Sergei concluded "Russia will rise again… and RAY is the key.". Though I don't claim to be an expert on geopolitics, economic theory, or the status of the Russian Federation, I'm fairly certain that an international incident involving Spetsnaz veterans killing unarmed crewmen and stealing a USMC robot would probably cause more problems for the Kremlin than they would solve.
That point is moot, however, because Ocelot finally decided to play his hand. "As I said before, I have no intention of selling Metal Gear, I'm here to return it… Yes, that's right, I'm returning it… to THE PATRIOTS!"
"The La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo!" Dolph exclaimed
Meanwhile, everyone not familiar with conspiracies of rampant AIs programmed by someone who helped create the internet that stood in opposition to an eyepatched jackass who used to go by the extremely weird codename "Naked Snake", had to wonder what the hell the Smurfs theme song had to do with a prominent New England sports franchise.
"Ocelot, have you sold us out?"
"Well, about that… y'know Sergei… remember when I said 'You can trust me, I'm not a liar'? Yeah… I was lying when I said that."
"Are you still in league with Solidus?"
"No hard feelings, Colonel. Mother Russia can rot, for all I care." At this, the Marines started chanting again.
"When, Ocelot! When did you turn?"
"I abandoned her during the Cold War. Or did I? Who knows, I may be lying again! Anyways, it doesn't really matter" Addressing everyone in the holds, Ocelot continued "Remember when I said that nobody had to die needlessly… yeah, that's also a lie. Sergei, you and your daughter will die here!" Ocelot exclaimed, twirling his mustache for extra evilness.
"Damn you!" Sergei growled, tossing Dolph aside as he turned his gun on his former comrade. Of course, he forgot one thing. Ocelot may be a half senile jackass who loves other peoples suffering, but there's a reason his name is 'Revolver Ocelot' rather than 'Idiotic Ocelot' or 'Fucked Up Sadistic Whackjob Ocelot'.
Casually tossing off his duster and pulling out a Single Action Army, Ocelot effortlessly gunned down Gurlukovich, who inadvertently shot Dolph in the back. Sergei exclaimed "Traitorous dog." as he fell, whilst Dolph hit the deck silently. A few Spetsnaz members attacked the traitor, but the old gunslinger took them out easily as well.
"Show's over folks!"
"Dude, that was awesome! You killed like… a lot of guys in under a minute! Encore!" A marine shouted.
"Well, I was planning on doing this anyways, but you just gave me the perfect segue." Ocelot said, holding out the detonator. "This ship is still in the Lower New York Harbor. You just may make it if you swim for your life!"
"Dude, it's freakin' Manhattan! We'll be lucky if we don't dissolve after five minutes in the river."
Tired of pointlessly exchanging banter with the dolts, Ocelot just shrugged and pressed the button.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
As the ship began to flood, dozens of Marines shot at Ocelot, but to no avail, as he started climbing the walkways to RAY. Just as he neared the cockpit, our hero finally remembered that yeah, he was just standing around letting Ocelot make cryptic speeches and blow up the boat. Running to the platform, Snake raised his USP and yelled. "OCELOT!"
The gunslinger sneered derisively at the cloned badass, when his right arm began to twitch. Screaming in pain, he grabbed it and shuddered. Almost as quickly as it began, the spasm ended. Standing tall, Ocelot grinned, and yelled out in a familiar British voice "It's been a while, Brother…"
"Wait… are you fucking kidding me?"
"You know who I am, right? I mean, I think in between the terrorist plots, revelations about your past, multiple attempts to kill you, and murdering some of your best friends, I left an impression…"
Disturbed at this turn of events, Snake struggled to come up with a response. "Liquid? What? How in the? Seriously, why? Is this some sort of joke? C'mon Ocelot, is there like a hidden camera or something taping my reaction? Is this going on Youtube?"
"Senility, perhaps? Not so young anymore, eh Snake?" Ocelot/Liquid said, smirking evilly. "You're drowning in time… believe me, I know what that's like, brother."
"Okay… I'm trying to wrap my head around this. You are the resurrected spirit of my evil twin, Liquid Snake. You have possessed Revolver Ocelot through a transplant, that replaced the arm he had gotten cut off. So after the half-dozen times I put you through lethal trauma, you finally die of a heart attack virus, and now your fucking forearm has returned from the grave to seek vengeance. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"
"No wonder Naomi passed you over for the FOXDIE program…" Oceliquid sneered, reminding Snake that not only was he facing his two worst enemies, combined into one convenient package, he still was a carrier for a heart attack virus given to him by a sexy, crazy doctor lady who hated him but also loved him or something. Yeah, things were getting complicated.
"Arrrgh… out… of my mind… Liquid!" Ocelot snarled, biting his arm. After another spasm, the evil British Russian Gunslinging Ghost Clone Badass stood tall again.
"The price of physical prodigy…" Liquid's voice rang out. "In a few more years, you'll be just another dead clone of the old man… but I… I live on… through this arm!" As was his custom, Liquid proceeded to make a variety of hilariously over-the-top handgestures to demonstrate.
"Dude, you're stapled to the elbow of a geriatric cowboy. I'm sure you'll kick first." Snake grinned.
SEVERAL YEARS LATER…
In this corner, the Malevolent Mauler from both Manchester and Moscow… Liiiiiiiquiiiid Oceloooooot! And his opponent, partially fried and coughing up a lung, the Elderly Asassin, Oooooold Snaaaaaaaake!
"Uh, dude, it's 'Solid Snake'. You left out an 'S' and an 'I'…"
As I was saying… OLD SNAKE! For the thousands in attendance, and the millions watching around the world… Lets get ready to watch an Old Man Syringefiiiiiiight!
BACK TO THE PRESENT...
A convenient explosion knocked Snake off his feet, allowing Liquid to clamber aboard Metal Gear RAY. The machine began to start up as Snake dragged himself out of the water…
"You don't have what it takes after all! You're going down… WITH THIS TANKER" Liquid roared... his internal monologue was basically YayfinallyafterliketwentytriesIfinallybeathim! Liquid omitted the fact that this time, Snake didn't even have missiles to fight the giant robot, making this perhaps the most one-sided fight he had ever gotten involved in.
Snake proceeded to get punted across the room, slamming hard against a wall as RAY rampaged. The marines began ineffectively shooting at the mech, including one who simply used his service pistol. I can't say much about the man's intellect, but I sincerely believe that he had cajones forged of steel. Too bad the rest of him was squishy meat, as RAY effortlessly smashed him into paste.
"Otacon…" Snake said, grimacing as the sinking ship was being torn apart by a giant robot. "… this is bad…"
After absorbing some of the water flooding the hold, RAY turned to face a wall. A high pressured stream of water shot from the metal beast's mouth, slicing through the ship easily. Water continued to rush in.
Split in twain, the remnants of the discovery shuddered as RAY leapt out of the water and straddled the gap. Beneath the machine, our hero surfaced and gasped for air. Within the confines of Metal Gear, Ocelot glanced at the soldier as he talked to his mysterious employer. "No problems… excluding otherworldly possession by the last game's villain. Yes, I have photographic evidence of Snake on the scene, ready to be played on the morning news. Luckily, it appears that nobody in the most populated city in the Western Hemisphere is looking at the multi-ton behemoth that just blasted apart a tanker… Yes, it would seem that the Marines' plans are on indefinite hold… Yes, understood… mister president…"
As RAY dived off the wreckage, a massive wave washed over the tanker, Solid Snake disappearing beneath the water. Over the CODEC, Hal "Otacon" Emmerich could only say one thing…
"SNAAAAAAAAAKE!"
THE END? NOPE...
…TO BE CONTINUED…
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Sorry for the delay, but you know me. Last time I posted was over my winter break from college, and last semester was a bit more involved than I thought it'd be (I also worked Saturday mornings, meaning that I couldn't stay up on Fridays and work on the fic). I planned on getting started on this at the start of summer vacation, but I started working an extra job as well, so I actually had less time on my hands over the summer than I had during the semester. This semester is probably going to be no better than the last one, so well, I'm unsure if you'll be seeing chapter five before Christmas. Or after for that matter…
Also, for some reason, I couldn't just sit down and type this; I had a bunch of other fanfic ideas running through my head, some of which I've partially finished and which may see the light of day (possibly before I get another chapter of this up).
And Xbox live has pretty much destroyed any other productivity I might've had (I've got to get all those goddamn L4D achievements before the sequel comes out!). And Prototype and Batman: Arkham Asylum also distracted me. So to sum up; sorry that I've taking for-fucking-ever to get this far, and sorry in advance that it will probobly take even longer to get to the next part.