*A little atmosphere: ?v=nY3VnTRZ14k&list=PLCBrUTafYz3Z6scG7BCi6FFCD1oJAGnbP&index=22 (youtube)*
Chapter 1: The World of Tomorrow
"Good morning and welcome back to CCN Daily News. After the initial hearings yesterday, Signas – commander of the Maverick Hunters – had confirmed with us during an interview that his position at the helm of the independent, law enforcement organization was secure. However, earlier today, a press conference was held during which commander Signas announced that he would be stepping down from the position. When asked what he was going to do, the highly decorated officer stated that he would accept the offer made by the Committee for Public Safety and Inter-Human and Reploid Relations and serve as colonel second class in the Central Branch of the Maverick Hunters. This sparks the latest in a string of replacements and reformations that have drastically altered the power structure of the independent organization. Later today, the Repliforce is holding a press conference as well to announce who will replace commander Signas and finalize the absorption of the organization into the military force. This will result in the severe limitation of the extra-judicial rights the organization enjoyed for decades. People across the world are rejoicing to see order being brought and commend the international leaders and the CPS-IRR committee on their work well done. In other news-," the broadcast showing a tall man in his mid-forties, strategically positioned in front of a computer generated background, was interrupted by a metal beam that crushed the small, portable television set that he been put precariously close to the works in progress.
"Ah, damn it. Now I gotta find another one of those," the gruff voice came from one of the many workers handling the cleanup of a site of great devastation. He and his comrade were lifting debris from a broken home but had underestimated the weight of what had looked like a small beam.
The site of the cleanup efforts was none other than the southern outskirts of Central City. Four months after the battle with colonel Typhus and his weapon of mass destruction, there was still more than enough work to be done. The outskirts had gotten the brunt of Asura's attacks, with entire blocks raised to the ground. Homes had been destroyed, some of which had been massive apartment complexes, and paved roads, cars and other common signs of civilization in the streets had been reduced to scrap. Most of what could be salvaged had been salvaged months ago, but the corpses of people who didn't make it out of Asura's warpath in time were still being discovered under heaps of destruction.
When Asura had finally been toppled, its enormous, skyscraper-sized corpse had collapsed onto the roads behind it, crushing even more property under its exploding weight. The beast had been destroyed on the inside, but it had still left its massive shell behind; a shell filled with dangerous technology that could fall prey to scavengers and other unsavory elements. Second only to searching for survivors, the rescue efforts' primary concern was the dismantling of the shell and piece-by-piece removal of the remains. It had taken everything Central city and surrounding countries could spare to get most of the beast removed from the streets, but the location of where its carcass had been located was still marked by all the damage its collapse had caused. With Asura largely removed, only scrap metal and broken homes remained, and the true rebuilding effort could begin.
Most of the available resources were first deployed in the inner city districts. Victims on the outskirts and anti-government spokesmen naturally proclaimed it was because the inner city was home to the richer citizens, meaning they would get first aid while the rest received the leftovers. Whether that was true or not, several massive skyscrapers had been brought down by Asura's long range weapons and stray shots, meaning the inner city streets were also lined with debris and traffic had been severely hampered. By now, most of the cleanup there had been completed and it was finally time to start on the outskirts and start planning the reconstruction of not just the neighborhoods, but also the Maverick Hunter Central Branch Command Tower that had been reduced to rubble in the wake of Typhus' rebellion.
"Be careful up there! There's no point getting injured during these works, because these people need all the constant help they can get!" It was the voice of one of the Maverick Hunter's greatest heroes that called up at the two workers that sat atop the mountain of debris that had once been a family's home. The blue-framed Reploid's green eyes fixed on the worker that had dropped the beam onto the television set, genuine concern framing his features. Mega Man X had never shied away from hard work to help the people he swore to protect, human or Reploid, and the kind tone in his light-hearted voice clearly reflected the honesty and virtue he represented.
Maverick Hunters were far from the most loved people in Central City, their relations with others not being much better anywhere else. However little respect they received from humans, due to the treason of Typhus, and from Reploids, due to them being the reason tensions between both classes were on the incline, Maverick Hunters had still been assigned to help in the reconstruction efforts. Their primary duty was protecting the workers and people in the rescue camps from the dangers damaged Mechaniloids and criminal elements posed there. However, some of them had also volunteered to actively help clean up the streets. Lord knows, the organization could certainly use the good PR.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mind your own business, hunter," the worker responded, rolling his eyes after his snarling reply had passed his lips.
The response drew a soft sigh from X, who promptly threw one of the broken chairs he had been hauling into a large dumpster near him.
"Do you ever get the feeling people hate your guts?" The young, energetic voice that uttered those words was filled with sarcasm. The origin of the voice was none other than Axl, the newest addition to the Maverick Hunter's inner circle of Special A-Class hunters. With a black frame, youthful appearance, long and messy brown hair, and a cross-shaped scar along his face; the young Reploid represented their best hope for the future. While not as skilled as X and Zero, he had more than earned his position and had gone through greater hardships in the last two battles against Sigma than most veteran hunters have in their entire careers. He too had gladly volunteered to help out with the cleanup effort alongside X whenever the trio had no dangerous hunts to attend to.
"I know… But I don't blame them. A lot of these people lost their homes and it shattered their trust in an organization that is sworn to protect them from harm. More than just the police or the military, Maverick Hunters protect the entire world from elements that would be all too happy to commit mass genocide for their ideals," X replied as he walked over to where Axl was sorting through a pile of debris. The veteran hunter crossed his arms and looked up at the bright blue sky overhead.
"First Sigma. Then Redips. And now Typhus; who was arguably the worst of the three simply because of what he had gotten away with in plain sight. Sigma's first rebellion had come out of nowhere, but many of his machinations didn't slip under the radar and only started when he rose up. Redips is much of the same, as his hands were forced into open action in the end. Typhus kept everything, even that monster Asura a secret from everybody. It makes you wonder who in the top brass was asleep or kept his eyes closed on purpose," X continued to muse.
Axl proceeded to pick up a piece of metal and threw it on one of the sorted piles before straightening himself and turning his attention to his friend. "That's still not a reason to throw us all on the same pile as those madmen. You, me and Zero have proven a lot of times that when it comes down to it, the Maverick Hunters are to be trusted and will pull through for them."
X smiled softly and nodded. "We know that. But a lot of that is based heavily on trust. And there's only so much people can take before paranoia takes a hold and they look at all of us with mistrust. You and me are getting the best treatment out of all. We just get the dirty looks. Just yesterday private Sunder was attacked on his way home by angry and frightened people."
"I still can't believe they forced Signas to step down. That means most high-ranking officers have been demoted and replaced by now. What's worse, we're going to be absorbed into the Repliforce… I don't know what to think about that. What'll that mean for us?" Axl questioned, not having had the chance to talk to X about these matters.
X could only shake his head. "I don't know, Axl. I think protocol will change and be enforced more strictly. Things might get less efficient to boot. The governments know this is the only way to avoid even more rioting and violence, and try and smoothen relations a bit. Get some more control on us. I'm sure they're scared too, scared of finding out Typhus wasn't the only one in the Maverick Hunters with the power and funds to create weapons like Asura."
Axl could only sigh, finding the whole ordeal more than just a simple letdown. The young hunter wasn't used to all the politics and backroom conniving that went into the upper echelon of the Maverick Hunters, Repliforce and all the other institutions. All he wanted to do was keep the innocent person in the street safe by hunting down those who would harm them. Almost like a superhero, like Steel Massimo! His mind then changed the subject for him, reminding the young Reploid of his crimson-framed friend. "Have you heard anything from Zero? He's been gone for over an hour now."
"No, he hasn't gotten back to me," X replied as he double checked his communicator to confirm.
"Do you think they're going to discharge him like they did Signas?" Axl questioned as he returned to sorting the trash and debris before him. His concern was more than evident in his voice. Working as a hunter wouldn't be the same if it wasn't the three of them. He always felt like he couldn't be beaten if he had X and Zero by his side.
"I certainly hope not. But given Zero's past, the current paranoia and the CPS-IRR's track record with reforming and demoting just about anyone who isn't proven to be loyal to the human governments… I'd be concerned too," X responded, looking over his shoulder at a small encampment in the distance.
The encampment had been set up to coordinate all the efforts in the surrounding neighborhoods and served as the primary source of information and direction for not just the rescue efforts, but the security and other important details of the entire operation there. It wasn't much to look at, as it consisted mostly of hastily erected, dull green tents filled with all manner of supplies or equipment. The camp had been organized on one of the many squares that used to burst with activity, but now solely witnessed the rushed back-and-forth of workers and other staff. One of those tents served an unusual purpose for that day only. The Committee for Public Safety and Inter-Human and Reploid Relations, or CPS-IRR, had commissioned it to allow it the privacy it needed to investigate and question some of the hunters and other Reploid officials working at that scene. The last to be subjected to the committee's inquiries was none other than ace hunter Zero.
The committee had been created shortly after the Asura Incident in response to the criticisms and fears of independent organizations and the domination of Reploids in the higher command structure of the Maverick Hunters. Tasked with investigating just about anyone and anything, they didn't consist of the humans with the purest of intentions. Rumors were afloat of loyal Reploids being demoted just to be replaced by humans who wanted to try their hands at a new post, or Reploids who gleefully accepted bribes in order to make sure the government's interests were served. As usual, the suffering of a great many individuals was a golden opportunity for some, unscrupulous individuals. Suffice to say, Signas was the latest in their decisions, but was certainly not going to be their last as they turn everything inside-out.
The crimson frame of Zero wasn't entirely unblemished. Here and there, the red or gold colors were covered by specks of dirt and the like, showing how he had helped Axl and X in the reconstruction efforts. He had been called away from work but an hour ago to appear before the six individuals sitting behind a foldable table on foldable chairs. Every single one of them was unknown to the veteran hunter, which instantly resulted in him losing respect for them. Six individuals who had never been out in the line of duty, or performed any service for the betterment of society were going to judge him and his past. They had not been witness of any of it, yet saw fit to draw their own conclusions as to what had happened and what the implications were.
"I believe we know, more or less, all we need to, unit commander Zero," the official that sat in the middle of them all spoke up. The human man was in his early fifties, with grey streaks lining his short black hair. Vibrant, blue eyes could be seen behind the glasses that rested atop his nose; eyes that hid the shrewd intelligence the man possessed. He was dressed with impeccable, business sense, clad in a black suit with a colorful tie. The other five were dressed in much the same way and they could've all passed for one big, happy, sneaky snake family if they wanted to. "Ah, but I see there is one more thing we need to go over. Your discovery many years ago."
Zero's eyes instantly narrowed, having been wondering what was taking them so long to get to the point. The crimson hunter was no fool and knew that the initial, rather casual and routine, questions he had been asked were just a means to try and get him to trust them and be at ease. But he had known those questions were coming. "Yes, sir."
"It appears former commander Sigma had found you in an old, abandoned mine. Your state of mind was questionable and it was clear that you fit the bill of a Maverick to a 't'… Back then," The man removed his glasses after having read what one of the reports before him outlined.
"The number of Reploids that recover from such behavior, even after reprogramming, is less than 10% and that is accounting for recent methods of rehabilitation," the woman to the former's right explained. "The report would have us believe you belong to that 10%, as after you recovered, stated that you exhibited no further aggressive tendencies beyond the normal parameters. You were subsequently placed into active duty and quickly climbed your way up into Sigma's elite unit," she continued before clasping her hands before her and leaning forward on the tabletop. "Tell us, unit commander Zero, do you believe it is a good idea to have former Mavericks, reformed or not, serve as such a vital component in an organization that should uphold the most stringent of control on its members?"
Zero quickly forced himself to swallow the anger billowing up from inside of him at the thinly veiled accusation of him retaining Maverick tendencies. He had spent his whole life, had even sacrificed himself, all to keep people like them safe from harm. "If extended service show the Reploid in question does indeed perform up to par and shows loyalty-" Zero was promptly cut off by the youngest of the six; the sole Reploid of the group.
"Ah, but loyalty is a matter of perspective. And not only that…" The purple-eyed, ebony and gold framed Reploid reached out for another report that had been resting conveniently by his side. Once he had opened the file, he continued his reasoning. "It says here that during the Eurasia Colony Incident, you were infected by the Sigma Virus. Subsequent research by the good doctor Lifesaver of the Maverick Hunters revealed that the virus had mutated into what was promptly named the Zero Virus. This mutation proved far more dangerous in that it seemed likely that it would also increase the potential of anyone it infects, not just forcing them to go Maverick alone. Had you not been stopped, the effects would have been unforeseeable, but certainly catastrophic at the very least. All's well that ends well, but Lifesaver still has been unable to properly discern the nature of your connection to both viruses and-," the Reploid's eyes cast up at Zero's, his brow furrowing slightly. "Whether or not you have truly been cleansed of its influences. So tell us again. Do you believe it is a good idea to have a reformed Maverick such as yourself serve in the Maverick Hunters?"
"I… That…" Zero had no answer for them. They had twisted it all to make it look like he had done all that on purpose, that he had worked in tandem to Sigma's diabolical mind. He had been a victim as much as anyone else and not a day passed that he hated himself for what had transpired and for having been used like nothing more than a techno-biological weapon.
"That will be all, unit commander Zero. You are dismissed and may return to your earlier duties," the man in the center stated after a long pause. All six of them promptly diverted their attention to their papers, most of them jotting down whatever notes they decided to keep and which statements in his defense to leave out entirely.
Zero's hands balled into fists as his gaze went from one committee member to the other, but there was nothing he could say or do at that point. How red tape could make the mightiest feel utterly helpless in the face of such accusations… He promptly saluted, trying to hide his frustration. "Yes sirs, ma'am."
Upon exiting the tent and making his way back over to where X and Axl were working, a heavy-duty container became the target of his frustration. With a loud bang, his fist bent the thick steel with ease. "Zero?! What happened?" X questioned as he ran up to his friend, only to be brushed aside by a wall of silence, as Zero turned around and began to walk down the shattered street, in the direction of the ruins of Central Branch Tower.
"Zero?!" Axl chimed in, trying to get a response from the veteran hunter, but they only received silence as their reply. "Do we… let him blow off some steam?" Axl suggested, his gaze turning up to the slightly taller X.
The other hunter merely nodded in response.
The facility had been abandoned for years now, with all its machinery shut down and succumbing to the passage of time. If anyone were to try and kickstart the sensitive equipment, chances were they weren't going to be very lucky in their endeavor. Facilities dedicated solely to the manufacturing of one specific type of Mechaniloid used to be all the rage over a decade ago, but with the advent of newer and better techniques and technology, the ability to save on space and use the same equipment to craft a wider range of drones made these facilities obsolete. Too expensive to modify and sometimes too bureaucratically inconvenient to tear down, quite a few could still be found, rotting, across the globe. One of these facilities was located in the middle of nowhere, quite literally. Surrounded by dense woods, the paved roads having long since gotten overgrown, the fenced factory had been constructed north of a population center in the hopes of sparking some more commerce and create more jobs. Needless to say, the fate of the company hadn't been a good one, and the place was now little more than a decaying ruin. Ever quiet, it was unusual to say the least, when the sounds of battle began to emanate from its inner halls. These sounds only grew louder and more violent as explosives and heavy energy weapons were brought into the fray.
With it being the dead of night and all power having been cut off from the place, darkness reigned in the large halls filled with heavy machinery and conveyor belts that used to ferry half constructed parts from one end of the structure to the other. Moonlight was the only form of illumination, of which there was plenty considering the massive windows that lined the high walls, and the utter lack of clouds above. The damage caused by the fight soon spread from the small office section above the factory floor to the conveyor belts below as a grey-framed Reploid was punched through a set of windows. Unable to break his fall, the humanoid robot crashed into several machines on his way down, adding more dents and scratches to an already damaged and worn exterior. With a silenced huff, he hit the floor and managed to compose himself quickly enough to get up on his feet and start running for the nearest exit; a large, open gate previously used to load trucks.
The Reploid had a rather standard frame, but his right hand had retracted to form a modified buster able to fire crackling bolts of electricity. Other adaptations could be spotted by the keen observer, none of them legal. One of his eyes sported a detachable upgrade that aided in target acquisition and other functions, while his legs featured high-powered dash boots that would propel him to speeds beyond what is the norm. With a grey and purple frame, bulky, sharp and cornered armor, and detailing in the form of self-applied tattoos and symbols, it was clear he was affiliated with several unsavory groups of criminals. He was a Maverick, that was clear as day.
Up above, his opponent, the one that had knocked him through the window, placed a single boot onto the low windowsill and hoisted himself up onto the frame. Green, purple and flashes of gold marked an elaborate and sturdy set of armor, with its most notable feature being a full helmet that hid the Reploid's face. The helmet featured a T-shaped visor, with a single, red eye flaring up, the left remaining dormant. Armed to teeth, though most weapons were hidden, the Reploid's shoulder cannon hummed happily as it retained its active and charged state, and a soft chuckle escaped the voice box that had been chosen for him upon creation. Wanted by society as one of the greatest criminals and dangers on the planet, hated by many, admired by none, he was a renegade that had once been a Maverick Hunter himself. His name was Vile, and he had yet to be apprehended successfully.
"Running away, already? What's the matter? You were all talk before!" He shouted, glee nearly evident in his mocking tone of voice. A flash of light briefly emanated from his boots as he propelled himself into the air and took flight, quickly catching up to the criminal he was hunting.
"Get away from me, you bastard!" Vile's prey's voice was deep and gritty, one that fitted his image. The Reploid knew he had little chance of getting away on foot, not unless he laid down some suppressive fire. While continuing his frantic run, he aimed his buster arm back and up at the approaching war machine. Barely taking the time to aim, he fired a single bolt of lightning, which connected with Vile's waist.
The renegade wasn't impressed, though it did destabilize his flight to the point where he quickly headed for the ground, landing in a barrel-roll before using the momentum to keep up a decent running speed. His target took another shot, this time barely scraping Vile's shoulder, while the aggressive ex-hunter quickly returned fire with a soft blue plasma sphere from his shoulder cannon. The blast connected in a damaging flare, the impact knocking the criminal into a stack of unused parts and over a waist-high conveyor belt. Before he could even get up, he found himself pinned to the belt with his back, an iron grip holding his neck while a sturdy boot almost crushed his buster against the rubber.
"You were a lot of trouble to track down and put up more of a fight than your associates said you would. I guess all around I had more fun than I thought. But it has to end sometime," Vile explained, all the while charging up a more powerful blast from his cannon.
Fear filled the Reploid's red eyes as he desperately looked around for anything he could use effectively with his left hand. His gaze caught sight of a few tools, among which a wrench, lying idly within reach. Struggling to keep his neck from being crushed by Vile, his fingers managed to wrap around one of the wrenches, and in a fluid motion, he wacked the renegade across the face, freeing him as Vile stumbled to the side.
"You're not going to get me like you did my friend, you freak!" He exclaimed as he rolled backwards off of the belt and used his dash boots to take off through the gate and out into the open courtyard of the old facility.
Vile wasn't happy with the disorienting hit to the head, but he recovered quickly enough to spot where his target was going. "Bastard's craftier than he looks," Vile commented as he vaulted over the belts and set to pursuing the maverick. By now, he had started using his upgraded dash boots, giving him an edge of speed over Vile, but the utter lack of cover meant he wasn't going to get very far. Once he cleared the gate of the facility, Vile dropped down to one knee and grabbed hold of his shoulder cannon to aim it manually, and carefully. "Surprise, I have a new toy!" Vile exclaimed as he finished charging the cannon and released a narrow, persistent beam of energy that raced towards the fleeing enemy. Nearly effortlessly, it cut cleanly through any armor that hadn't been torn away by the fight already, adding a perfectly spherical hole where the Reploid's chest used to be.
Slowly, the Maverick stopped his escape, stumbling as the damage began overwhelming his systems. Warning signs began to pop up behind his eyes and without the chance to utter another word, he collapsed.
Vile uttered a slight sigh at his victory, though he would've grinned visibly if he could at the surprising efficiency of the latest tweak Nana had made to his cannon. Confident steps ferried the green framed Reploid over to the mechanical corpse halfway across the courtyard from him. A simple tap of his boot was enough to clarify that his target wasn't going to get up and go anywhere, anytime soon. His systems had flat-lined and Vile could add another fatality to the list. A cream and grey hand rose up to cup the right side of his helmet while his other hand found a comfortable spot on his side to rest on. "I'm sure you saw that, already, but target's down. Guess that means we shot our way through all five of them."
The answer came in the form of a young, female Reploid's voice. Veteran of the Giga City and Asura Incidents, she served as Vile's operator and the only one able to more or less keep him from going down the deep end entirely. Her name was Nana and, as always, she was none too pleased with how Vile had decided to handle the mission given the information she had supplied him with. "Taking people in alive is never an option for you, is it?"
Vile scoffed at being lectured for the hundredth time. "He resisted. I've taken people in alive before... after roughing them up a bit. Besides, we don't have some book of rules to stick to, we do what we want, when we want," Vile replied, clearly loving the fact that he could speak those words when defining his current occupation.
"That may be so, but to me, that just means we have to keep ourselves in check. We have to make sure we don't end up like the people we hunt. I know a lot of the Reploids we have to hunt down are unlikely to be salvageable, but why do you think you can meet out permanent justice all the time?" She argued, though her work had not been stopped despite the discussion. Behind her monitor, hundreds of lines of information were being scrolled through and her fingers never stopped typing in commands. Before long, she had found a suitable transfer pad that had enough energy left to bring Vile back to their base of operations. Having only a pad that can send and received to others, not to the middle of nowhere, they were always limited in their range of movement. A lot of the time, Vile had to find some form of transportation for the rest of the way. It was luxury to find a pad that could be securely hacked so close by.
"You take the fun out of everything," Vile concluded as he crouched by the corpse and removed one of the insignias from the frame to serve as proof of their success. The explosions and antics that had gone on inside and around the facility wouldn't stay unnoticed for long, so they didn't have forever to get him out of there.
"Alright, I have a pad ready and waiting, it's in a small shack on the north end of the courtyard, near a line of broken fencing," Nana informed him as she could finally sit back and relax a bit. While she was never out in the field with Vile, her work was just as stressful, if not worse. At least Vile enjoyed blowing things up and feeling the sting of a punch across his jaw. Nana needed to constantly keep an eye on his surroundings, opponents, possible third parties and a whole array of logistical variables that, if left unchecked, could easily ruin an entire operation and end up with getting them both found and caught. Covering their tracks was horribly complicated and very few were talented enough to manage like Nana did. "Better hurry, the authorities are already on their way and since you're still the number one suspect and scapegoat for what happened with Typhus, they're going to have some questions for you."
"Still can't believe those bastards pinned it all on me," Vile commented as he, quite arrogantly, proceeded to walk briskly towards the shack. "I decide to do something that benefits other people and they don't hesitate to point all fingers to me."
"I don't blame them, Vile. Just because you helped defeat Typhus and stop Asura, doesn't mean your slate is clean. Things don't work that way. And, considering our vigilante and mercenary ways are far from legal, you're not doing a good job proving them wrong," Nana answered, even though she realized, more than anyone else, Vile wasn't out to clear his name or make amends. It was difficult for someone as kindhearted as Nana to function around a callous Reploid like Vile. He didn't care who got in his way and it was only through her efforts that he hadn't descended into a rampage yet. Of course, that didn't mean Vile was going to stand for being blamed for atrocities he didn't actually commit. He much preferred to be hated for what he was responsible for.
Vile's hand gripped the handle of the shack's door, but he quickly found that it wouldn't budge. After a rather violent motion, he managed to rip it from its hinges and force it open. Rust had done most of the work for him, so it was hardly a feat of amazing physical prowess. "I simply find it amusing that every day I see more news reports that prove how corrupt it all is. Politics has infested every level of not just the Maverick Hunters, but government itself, with power-hungry, paranoid and frightened electorals. Did you see the report that Signas stepped down?" This brought forth a cold chuckle from the man as he stepped onto the high-tech transfer pad inside the metal shack.
"I did. You might think it's funny, but I can't help but feel like the world is slipping into a very dark and dangerous mood. The atmosphere everywhere feels so tense. I get watched wherever I go even though no one knows who I am or what I do. I see Reploids preaching hatred for humans and vice versa like never before, and Mavericks have only become more prevalent. This downhill slope isn't good for anyone, Vile, not even for you," she countered as she punched in the coordinates for Vile's extraction. "With every sensible person that is removed from a position of power and replaced with a yes-man that will just do what is necessary to keep everyone happy, we get one step closer to what I'm afraid of the most. War."
In a flash of light, Vile's body dematerialized and vanished from the facility, only to be transferred to a very different setting in a mere instant. Once his form had been completely recomposed, he released a slight sigh and stepped down from the pad. "You really think this'll end up in civil war, or worse?" Vile scoffed again. "People are going to play dumb and accept it. They're going to stop pointing fingers the moment there's another face doing the talking for an organization like the Maverick Hunters. And once they've been moved into the Repliforce, they'll have all these rules they need to stick to. Our expertise is going to be at an all-time high demand," Vile switched off their communication link as he finished his sentence, and stepped through the sliding door out of the small transfer room and into the nerve center of their hideout.
For three months now, Nana and Vile had been operating from the relative safety of their new hideout. The apartment they had used during the Asura Incident had been compromised, but Giga City remained the perfect hub from which to spread out on all manner of missions. Not only was it mainly run by corporations, making it relative neutral ground, Nana also knew it like the back of her hand. If there was any place she knew where to disappear, it was the modular, floating city out on the ocean. They had moved most of their gear over to a very small warehouse that was still filled with crates of useless, mostly broken equipment and abandoned wares. However, below the warehouse had been two floors of three rooms each that had previously been used to house the administration of the company that had owned it. With some modifications and enough patience to clean it up, the unlikely duo had turned it into a formidable base of operations.
Nana had been able to procure the building that had fallen into disuse and disrepair for a bargain price. She subsequently used her administrative skills to have it vanish from the records. As far as Giga City was concerned, the building located on the northern end of its central hub, no longer existed. They were safe in the knowledge that any inquiries would smash into a wall of bureaucratic red tape and get lost in a lack of desire on the part of Giga City officials to properly investigate the oddity. The transfer room of the facility was located on the lowest floor in a small room off the side of what could be considered Nana's command center. It contained little more than the transfer pad, some heavy-duty wiring for connecting the machinery to a power source, and a control panel in case Nana needed to set the pad's functionalities manually.
As Vile passed through the sliding door, he flexed his shoulders and walked past the comfortable, rotating armchair Nana inhabited daily, for hours on end. The command center wasn't much to look at either. Nana's best efforts had gotten it relatively clean and fixed up, though there was little more in there than the equipment she needed to do her job. More wiring led to the securely sealed generator room across the hall from the transfer room, something that has caused quite a lot of tripping before they had gotten the bright idea to tape the wires to the bottom of the walls. In front of Nana hung a collection of large monitors, each of which presented her with a variety of information. Currently, her attention was fixed on the centermost, largest screen.
From that command center, Nana had full access to all the contacts and help they had been able to gather over the months since they entered this business together. After she had returned to Giga City and finished undoing the damage done by Redips and Epsilon, she had found herself torn between two possibilities. Either she would accept Signas' offer and join the Maverick Hunters as an operator, or she would do something no one expected. She chose the latter, and managed to get in touch with Vile. The renegade had naturally been surprised to hear from her, and of the fact that she had even found him. Nana didn't know why the green-framed Reploid had decided to accept her suggestion to work together again; she wasn't even sure why she wanted to go to such lengths to be close to an incorrigible war machine. Perhaps it were those rare few glimpses of a better person that she had managed to see during their previous interaction? He had decided to attack and destroy Asura, despite all the risks to his own life. His pride was boundless, but did it truly extend that far when only other peoples' lives were at stake?
Regardless, their partnership proved mutually beneficial. Nana was able to exercise her talents with full freedom, while Vile was able to satiate his lust for battle. However, he had quickly rediscovered that Nana was no pushover and, in her own brand of stubbornness, she had managed to keep the renegade on the thin line between legal and illegal. Sure, they were vigilantes, but she made sure that any targets Vile was unleashed upon were dangerous criminals and sometimes even mavericks beyond any hope of repair. Naturally, there had been jobs that she sorely regretted, that she even lost sleep over. It was difficult to see Vile act like a judge and executioner, especially when their employers were also often far from savory. But somehow, she succeeded in convincing herself, every time, that it was for a greater good. It kept Vile from a rampage, from reverting to the way he was before he learned about his past. He was every bit as dangerous and violent, but at least it was being directed somewhere moderately constructive. Without the rules of the Maverick Hunters, and with Nana being smart enough to know what arenas to pick for the man, collateral damage was low and civilian casualties were, for now, non-existent.
Over those same months, Nana had crafted a small web of contacts that could act like her eyes and ears. Despite Vile's impatience and borderline greed, she had managed to filter out all the truly criminal elements and only dabbled with people she found to be either fully honest, or at least inhabited the same grey area they did. The moment she suspected they were treading too close to organizations they should not have any interaction with, she'd change gears in the best way she could. To her continuing surprise, Vile had been relatively easygoing with all of this. His philosophy was likely simple in this regard. As long as he was getting his pay to do what he loved, then he'd dabble in moderation just for the sake of humoring her. That still didn't make it easy living with him. While not as bad as it had been when his mind was unstable due to the visions incurred by what his creator was trying to pass onto him, his temper was still a bad one. And whenever he didn't get his way, she'd have to pull every lecture and speech she could come up with to get him to listen to reason. Over time, she'd already learned a few tricks and figured out what made the Reploid tick. She prided herself in her understanding of his rather shattered psyche. One thing always made her feel she was on the right path, however. Not once had he broken his word to her, and not once had he even shown any inclination to strike her. For a Reploid like Vile for whom violence is like a game, that was a big thing.
Nana's fingers tapped away at the keys of one of the control panels she was sitting at as she closed any open connections between their base and the abandoned facility Vile had returned from. Once she had finished, she tapped the keyboard with the palms of her hands and rose up from the chair with a heavy sigh. "I'd rather our services weren't in high demand, Vile," the creamy white framed Reploid explained as she proceeded to follow Vile up a spiral staircase that led to another set of rooms. A flick of a single finger across a light switch added some much needed illumination to the hall they emerged in. That room served mostly as a place where they could relax. Lockers, supply cabinets, a large, simple, metallic table, complete with a dozen chairs, and even a training dummy for Vile to act his aggression out on filled the room. It didn't have too much of a homely feel, mostly since Nana didn't have the funds, nor Vile's agreement, to fix it up with some decorations. What little decorations there were came in the form of a few synthetic plants and some of the more colorful books Nana owned that lined a bookshelf or two.
"We're already short on all sorts of supplies and you want business to be even slower?" Vile questioned as he crossed the hall and opened a door into their repair bay. The quarters was located off the side and was, unfortunately, a bit small for everything they needed to cram into it. It contained a single recharge pod pushed uncomfortably next to an examination table that could be used for repairs, as well as the tweaking of any weapons Vile managed to break. The rest of the room was filled to the brim with shelving and secure lockers that contained anything from tools to weapons, and anything in between.
Nana followed her partner, but stopped in the door opening to place a single white-gloved hand on her side and lean against the frame. Another sight passed her lips as she let her blue eyes gaze down to the floor. Her free hand slipped through her pink hair, brushing aside that single white bang that gave her her striking appearance. "I know we need the money, but I'd still rather not spend my days hunting down Reploids I'd never want to meet in a dark alley," she admitted.
Vile stopped in front of the steel table in the corner of the room and reached for a small box on the nearby shelves. Upon opening it, he began to take out a few new cartridges containing the small caliber rounds the Vulcan guns mounted in his fingertips fired. He needed to replace his stock, after all. "So you really think this is going to end in civil war? Nothing ever changes on this mudball, Nana. Sigma tried seven times, and the likes of Redips, Lumine and Typhus failed just as badly. All they accomplished half the time was making things worse. But in the end, the ecology is back on an upswing," Vile rebutted before closing the box and returning it to its proper place.
"I suppose you have a point," Nana admitted before turning around and taking a seat by the table in the common room. "While tensions between Reploids and humans are rising, they'll stagnate just like the fear of the Eurasia Colony drop's effects on the planet. I suppose it's hard not to get swept up by all the paranoia and prejudice," the experienced operator placed the palms of her hands on the tabletop and planted her chin on top of them.
"All I know is that everyone whose loyalty is under even the smallest of scrutiny is being replaced. That means those new guys'll be out to score some good victories and validate their new post," Vile explained as he closed the door into the repair bay before taking a seat at the head of the table. His green and gold colored boots were quickly lifted off the ground and planted firmly onto the top of the table while he reached for the remote that operated a small television screen that hung from the wall opposite its broadside. A click of a single button turned the device on, adding some much needed ambient noise to the otherwise silent, underground rooms.
"And that victory is you," Nana finished his train of thought as she had come to the same conclusion as well. The manhunt for you had diminished a bit with recent troubles, but it looks like it's in full swing again."
Vile scoffed. "Whatever they're gonna try, it'll fail. If the likes of Signas couldn't catch me, these sissy yes-men sure as hell aren't. If I find any of th-" The rest of Vile's threats were quickly cut off by Nana as she pointed to a news broadcast on the television.
The female newsreader seemed distraught to have to read a sudden addition to the planned stories for the evening broadcast. "This is just in. Police officers have surrounded an apartment building in Southwest City. According to early reports, a group of Reploids have broken into the basement floors of the complex and have sealed off all entrances into the garage. Officials have yet to comment, but we believe they pose a terroristic threat and are setting explosives in an attempt to broker a deal or bring a point across. No statements have come from the terrorists, but it is very likely at this point that they are affiliated with the group that has claimed several bombings over the course of the last two months: Black Cell." Nana's gaze went from the screen to Vile, as the ex-Hunter rose up from his seat.
"Wait, you're not thinking of going down there, are you?" She questioned as the renegade began to make his way back down into the command center. To keep up with his steady pace, she needed to run after him.
"You're always saying we need to work on our image. We're viewed so poorly that even our clients think we're bad business. And those guys don't usually pay any heed to what officials claim," Vile explained as he placed one hand firmly on the back of her chair to turn it her direction. "Well, if I bust these terrorists up, they'll have firsthand footage of me kicking ass."
"Maybe, or the media will twist the facts and make it look like you're one of them. Not to mention the fact that Maverick Hunters will likely be called on the scene and you might not make it back out of there. I mean, we don't even have a plan," Nana pleaded, once more trying to talk sense into a man whose impulsiveness knew no bounds.
"Either you help me, or I go it alone. You know it makes little difference to me. Now set the coordinates to the nearest transfer pad you can find me," Vile ordered before walking onto their own pad.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Nana proceeded to home in on a location in Southwest City. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," she muttered, as she had a bad feeling they were going to get involved in something far, far bigger than them.