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Two hours later, Omega was on a ship.
The craft belonged to the Raiders was around average size compared to some he'd seen, big enough to use over long terms but too small to be overly effective for large forces. On board about a few dozen raiders were preparing to land, grabbing tools, armour, weapons or anything else they needed that was available. They had supplied Omega with armour too since his was currently "unavailable". If he had enough spare energy in his systems, Omega would have used his regeneration systems to remake his characteristic apparel (another perk of being a reploid; your armour sometimes counted as part of your body), but he wasn't sure how much energy he'd need in the time to come. Not to mention that sadly, recreating high grade armour took a lot of time and resources he really didn't have at the moment.
A warning alarm screamed out, the klaxon harsh to his auditory sensors. The ship was about to land.
Omega braced for the landing, grabbing a rail as he watched the chaos ensue around him. The ship rumbled and shook, and with a gentle thud, stopped moving. The PA system blurted out commands to various squads.
"Attention! Would all personnel charged with defense please report to the bridge!"
The order took Omega slightly off-guard even if he didn't show it. Instead he followed a large group of heavily armed raiders, ending up in the main command area. The bridge was a two tiered room, with a half-circle of control panels and operators on the bottom. Two stairways led down to the area from around the main console, which was located on the top. A suspended hallway ran from it to the rest of the ship on what would be considered the higher level. Omega, along with several others, stood on the path while looking at the console. Beside it was the old man who had hired him and behind it, peering down at the group, was the ship's commander.
"I trust you all know why you're here."
He wore a green suit with black hems, his pants long and loose. On the front of his shirt was a tattoo-like symbol of a vicious black parrot. Around his shoulders and back a luxurious onyx scarf hung, slightly ragged at the ends. Two black, wing shaped projections decorated the sides of his forest-coloured helmet, each curling around from right above his ears. His face looked serious as he gestured dramatically at his troops.
"The Corpse Sparrows, our arch-nemesis, have found out about this dig. We know that they will attempt to steal all of the artifacts as soon as we uncover them. We have no knowledge of their numbers, or if they intend to simply exterminate our band once and for all. They have been a thorn in our sides for years now, and we have been a thorn in theirs. Unfortunately, as our numbers are down, we have been forced to enlist aide." He nodded towards Omega, "This is our last stand. It has been a pleasure working with every one of you. May the gods shine on us, and may the Twilight Pirates live on! Every one of you! Fight!"
"Fight!" They all shouted back. They left to their own stations, leaving Omega standing and looking at the two still at the main controls.
"As for you, mercenary, I would like to have a brief chat with you." He stepped down from the console, walking towards the red demon, "Your price is high, from what Alfredo told me. I expect from that price that you have an elite squad at your disposal. As such, I will be placing you at the first line of defense. You have about 15 minutes to call up your squad and you will receive your payment once the work is done. Are you fine with this?"
Omega's crimson eyes bore holes into the commander at the same time that his mind raced with suspicion, "On one condition."
Slightly nervous, the raider captain replied, "What is that?"
"That no one is to see us. If anyone wishes to come within view of the first line, I would like them to give me ample warning, ten minutes preferably. I, I mean, my squad and I do not like being watched."
The commander nodded, "Fair enough. I trust that you have your motives." Walking back to the console he made to reach into a drawer. Taking out a small communicator, he threw it to Omega.
"Now, you will follow Alfredo to the dig site. Best of luck." He returned to typing on the controls. The old man began heading towards the door, so Omega followed.
They finally exited the ship after about a minute of navigation through the ship. It had the same colour scheme and symbol as its commander, clearly a motif of some sort. Heedless of the God of Destruction's small reprieve to observe his surroundings, Alfredo began trotting towards a large mound of soil around a ship-length away from the carrier. Once there, he turned to Omega.
"This is it. You'll be defending our position from here. The rest of us will be inside digging, so don't worry if you hear anything from within. This is the only entrance, so it's vital that no one gets in. See you later, if we're lucky..." He went inside.
Omega jumped on top of the four meter mound, careful not to kick debris into the doorway. As he watched for any activity he noticed more of the landscape around him. They were in a large, wide clearing, the raider ship off to the side. The rest of the area was surrounded by a dark and twisted forest, slightly camouflaging the ship with its dappled shadows. Dusty, brick-red dirt was stomped into a miniature wasteland from the activities of the raiders, forming the circular space he stared at now.
Hours passed. The raiders who had remained on the ship ventured into the pile he guarded, which Omega guessed was really a tunnel. No animals sang, the sky was cloudy, and the air hung thickly in his nostrils. The crimson terror was beginning to wonder if anything would actually happen. Boredom gnawed at his mind as he clawed the ground in frustration, snorting.
A large thrumming sound came from above. Omega looked up just as a red ship zoomed into view. It drifted, overlooking the clearing like a vulture. Soon it lighted down on the opposite side of the Twilight Pirates' ship, dwarfing it in size and outmatching it with the sheer number of guns and sharp projections decorating its hull. Its hatch opened and numerous raiders marched out, each wearing environmental masks, spiked helmets, and red and navy uniforms. Some of the raiders went and investigated the other ship, but most fanned out and pointed their guns at Omega. Omega simply returned their gesture by watching their affairs with cat-like disdain. Feigning disinterest, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and began sunbathing (even if the sun was nowhere to be seen).
Another raider, far more decorated than the rest, detached himself from the main gathering. His helmet had spikes in the same place as the rest of the raiders, but they were longer and curved. He didn't wear an environmental mask either, which showed either a confident demeanor or a lack of common sense. Sneering, he addressed the mound's sentinel. "You're a cocky one, it seems. May I ask what you are doing on top of that dirt pile?"
Omega opened one eye, staring down at the raider, "No, you may not. My business is my own." He closed his eye again, relaxing. He noted, with a faint smile, the sound of a boot stomping to the ground in frustration.
"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer! So answer my question!" His sneer turned into an unfriendly growl.
"Nah, I don't feel like it." Omega waved him off, not even bothering to look up.
"Why you! If you think you're so much better than me, then prove it! Fire away, boys!" He snarled. Omega jerked up, but was too late to dodge the multitude of energy bullets headed his way. Instead he was forced to brace himself as they hit.
"Yarharharhar! How do ya like that, mister arrogant?" He laughed as Omega took the shots, dust rising from stray attacks. The shots soon stopped because the clouds of silt and debris made it impossible for the gunners to aim. The leader put his hands on his hips, laughing uproariously.
"I'd imagine that you didn't like that one bit! Doesn't matter though, since no one survives when they poke fun at me, the leader of the Corpse Sparrows! Wuahahahahaha!"
Several of the surrounding raiders joined in, guffawing loudly. They abruptly stopped laughing, staring in horror as Omega's still-standing silhouette appeared in the dust.
"You're right. I didn't like it." The clouds began to settle, revealing that Omega's borrowed armour was broken in many places. He grabbed it, ripping off the useless garment. His shirt had a few holes burnt into it while some scorch marks had gotten onto his skin. He, however, appeared totally unaware of the fact that he was supposed to be injured.
"That was quite rude, you know. This may be surprising to you, but I really don't like being shot at." Omega jumped forward, landing in front of the mound's entrance. "And if I don't like something, it almost always ends up dead," he walked forward, his eyes gleaming dangerously, "But I feel like being nice today, so if you surrender now, I may just spare you..."
The raider leader grimaced, "I don't know who, or what, you are..." he leaped aside, revealing a raider holding a grenade, "but I never surrender!" The raider threw the bomb. It hit Omega in the dead center of his chest, causing another cloud of dust to rise as it exploded violently.
"That will teach you not to take us on!" he finished. The cloud remained suspended in the air, hiding the effects of the blast. The raiders howled uproariously, cheering and applauding their leader. The man turned around, bowing to his audience, "Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind!" He continued bowing until a gasp from one of the raiders stopped him.
"What's wrong, Jared?" asked the frightened raider's neighbor. Shaking, his actions watched by all of his comrades, he pointed at the cloud of dust. Within it Omega's blood-red eyes glowed, as did a small blue triangle mark on his head previously hidden by his bangs. The glow was amplified by the dust reflecting the ambient light.
"You have not surrendered." His voice was deep, calm, and petrified everyone who heard it. It was the voice of an ancient demon. "So you will die."
The raiders did not even have time to scream before Omega hit them like a tonne of bricks.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Inside the tunnel, a pair of the Twilight Pirates walked towards the entrance, each carrying a lumpy crate of cargo. One was complaining loudly to his friend, the other protesting in response.
"But the boss said we had to give him ten minutes first!"
The other one just snorted and gave a daredevil smirk, "Oh come on, you know you want to know what that guy's "pals" look like!"
The first peered around the tunnel, looking for any eavesdroppers, "But you saw what he looks like. I don't want them to know that we were gonna spy on them. They might kill us!"
"Quit being such a baby. What they don't know won't hurt 'em!"
The pair was approaching the corner of the hall, around which the stairs leading to surface would come into sight. Just as they were about to head above ground a chorus of agonized cries and wails ripped through the air. The two ducked back behind cover, listening as many terrorized yells were cut short. Screams for mercy were soon followed by the gut wrenching sounds of crushed bones and rent flesh. They looked at each other, paralyzed with fear, hoping that whatever was happening out there wouldn't decide to travel down into the dig site. Without warning a body sailed through the air, splattering blood everywhere, only to crunch sickeningly as it hit the wall opposite the stairs.
They looked at it. Its eyes were wide open and, despite the lack of life, were full of fear. It was slumped inhumanly, its backbone having broken from the impact against the wall. The neck was also broken, the wound oozing red fluids. When it had been thrown its throat had been torn out, causing even more blood to spill in a wide spray. Some of that blood had landed on the pair of raiders. Gender didn't matter past that cracked gas mask, only that blood seeped freely from it.
Terror ate at their hearts as they wordlessly fled back to where they'd come from. Passerbys noticed them as they ran, deciding that whatever had caused them to act like that was not something they wanted to see either.
When Alfredo saw them he ordered that no one was to go back to the surface until he or the commander said so. An order that was wholeheartedly agreed with.
Within thirty minutes Omega had finished his massacre. He let out a content sigh, looking at the carnage he'd caused. Blood dripped from his arms, landing in red pools on the ground. His hand went to his hip where his sword lay. Throughout the battle he'd forgotten it in his elation caused by the fray. Two centuries, two long centuries, and his thirst for blood had finally been sated.
The communicator rang. He picked out of his other pocket, turning it on. "Yes?" he asked.
It was the commander. "Hey. Some of my men said that there was some sort of a ruckus going on up there. They also said that it sounded like a slaughter. What the heck happened?"
Omega responded, "Well, there was a bit of a fight, but nothing that couldn't be handled."
"A fight? Who was it? It wasn't the Corpse Sparrows, was it?"
"It was."
"Then what happened to them?"
Omega paused, choosing the best answer. "They were... eliminated..."
The commander was silent. He seemed to be shocked. "...E...Eliminated...?"
Omega smiled darkly, "You heard what I said. Eliminated. Dead. Kaput. Thanks to me, you no longer have a thorn in your side."
The commander was silent again, "You can tell your squad that they, they did a good job..."
Omega's grin widened, "Thank you. Oh, and if you want to come up," he gave the clearing a quick glance, "you may want to give me an hour to... clean up."
"Yeah... I think... I'll let you do that." The line was cut. Omega looked around at all of the bodies littering the red, muddy ground. He momentarily pondered on his odd chattiness so far. He's probably said more words in this one mission than he had for the last two centuries. Perhaps he'd gotten bored of silence, maybe he just had more things to say now, who knew.
He chuffed, "Oh well, better get to it." He began grabbing the bodies, dragging the disgusting things into the forest. Sometimes all that was left of a victim were parts, so he chucked those into the foliage as well, slimy bits and all. A few of the raiders had pockets bulging with money, keys, wallets, or other personal items. If he thought they were worth anything, Omega took the liberty of relieving them from their former owners. It wasn't like they'd be using them now, would they? He even found pictures on a couple of them, which he simply crushed and/or threw into the bushes to rot with the rest of his victims. When the ultimate maverick was finished with that business, he simply wiped his hands on the tattered rag masquerading as his shirt and returned to his duty.
"How appropriate that all that's left of those Corpse Sparrows are corpses!" he laughed to himself. The last body he picked up was that of the leader's, the first one to have befallen an early grave. As Omega dragged the limp form to the forest he searched for anything of use. He found plenty, along with a small key chain that chimed metallically as it moved. On it was a flattened silver carving of a dragon, two slightly ornate, identical keys and a tag that read "Betsy". Looking at the keys he surmised that they were for a small ship. He ripped off the tag, pocketed the keys, and threw the carcass into the bushes.
When that was done he checked his internal clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed, leaving him more than enough time to do whatever he wanted. Omega decided to explore the red ship in case of survivors, or more loot.
He walked over to the ship and began exploring it with all the precision and ruthlessness of a born killer. Which he was of course, so if there were any more raiders on board they were in for a rather unfortunate end. Sadly no one else was on the ship, and neither were any sort of goods. It seemed the raiders kept their possessions with them at all times. Probably to discourage others from stealing their stuff thought Omega. Eventually he returned back to the hall where he'd entered the craft. He patted the pocket that the keys were in.
"There has to be a smaller machine for these somewhere..." He paused, looking around. There, a door he hadn't noticed before as it was almost seamlessly integrated into the wall. Opening it, Omega saw that the door led to a large hold, filled with fighter jets and other vehicles.
Wandering into the room, the blood-soaked warrior noticed that each of the jets looked the same. They were in the image of birds, swallows to be specific, and were coloured navy and red just like the raiders' uniforms had been earlier. As he walked down the aisles, Omega wondered if one of the ships was the match for his new keys. Their wings were folded at their sides, allowing more of them to be kept in a smaller space. It wasn't until he saw the last ship, separated from the rest, that he figured out which one had been the leader's.
Omega's eyes shot open as he beheld the jet. It was slightly larger and differently shaped. Instead of being based on a swallow it was based on a dragon, very much like the one on the key chain. Its wings had sharp, grooved edges, as did the tail, while the cockpit had two ornamental horns curving off of it. Instead of plain red and navy it was a regal crimson, black and gold. Strangely, or perhaps not considering the design, it had four landing wheels instead of the three the others displayed. Small guns were mounted below the cockpit, larger ones under the middle of the wings.
Omega brought out the keys, looking between them and the craft.
"..."
Shortly thereafter he rushed over to the jet, grinning like an idiot. Caressing its side with one hand, he ran the fingers of his other hand along its magnificent frame. By the smell of it, it had been freshly painted.
"I believe this is what they call the, ah? What was it now? Oh right. JACKPOT!" Omega took the keys, pressing a button on the carved dragon. The cockpit opened, giving enough space for the enthusiastic reploid to scramble in before it had even finished opening. The seats and control panel were a sleek black that reflected the light enticingly. The panel began glowing, letters dashing along the surface of a large screen.
"INPUT PASSWORD," it said. Omega looked at the screen. Password? What could the password be? He tried several combinations, like 'Corpse Sparrows' and 'Raiders forever'. Unfortunately, none of them worked. Annoyed, he looked around, hoping for some clue. His eyes stopped when he looked at his keys again. Then he smacked his forehead.
"Betsy". He awaited the machine's response.
"PASSWORD ACCEPTED. ACTIVATING." The jet hummed to life, many of the buttons and gauges on the panel beginning to shine. A user's option menu opened up in front of him.
"The first thing I'm doing is changing the stupid password," the God of Destruction grumbled to himself. Omega navigated his way through the menu until he was what looked like the correct options list. But when he was in the process of typing a password, he stopped. Whatever he wrote as the password would likely end up being the ship's name, and he wanted only the best for his new craft. Alas, he couldn't think of a name.
"Bloodbath? Nah, too corny. Wyvern? No... Armageddon? Overused!" He mused aloud, thinking of many different names. The trial went on for a few minutes before Omega suddenly smiled. He began typing in the password.
"PASSWORD; HARBINGER ACCEPTED." Omega rubbed his hands together gleefully. He went back to the main menu, coming across and reading an owner's manual. When he was done he turned off the ship, letting it purr one last time. He got out, closed the cockpit, and began looking for a way to get his new acquisition out of the hold. Fortunately there was a bay door not far off to his side. He went over to it and opened it with only a little bit of shoving and cursing. Some alarms went off, but otherwise it lowered without a problem. Omega went back to the Harbinger, using his incredible strength to push it towards the open door.
He was still grinning.
x-x-x-x-x
The Twilight Pirates slowly began filing out of the mound, most with some sort of artifact or electronic in tow. Each of them noticed the dusty ground had been turned into a moist, suspiciously reddish paste. While a couple of unidentifiable bits littered it, for the most part Omega had done a decent job of cleaning up after himself. To the left was the Corpse Sparrow's ship, to the right, their own, and in the middle...
Omega stood, crooning to the dragon jet and stroking it like a child with a new toy.
Most of the raiders did a double take. The rest went to their ship, looking for any damages. As the commander came out, Alfredo tagging along behind him, he calmly surveyed the surroundings and went over to Omega. Not sure how to address the blood-covered menace, he coughed softly.
Omega whirled, brows down-turned at being interrupted. "Yes...?"
The commander scuffed his boot against the ground. "Well, we have gathered all of the artifacts. Your mission is complete, so..."
Omega smiled. "I get paid. Goodie."
"Yes, it's time to pay you." he reached into the back pocket of his coat, taking out his wallet. After some digging around, he took out the money owed. Omega took it, putting it into the same pocket as his keys. He reached into his other pocket, taking out the communicator.
"I believe this belongs to you," he tossed it, the commander catching it with ease. Omega turned to his ship, opened the cockpit, and got inside after kicking off some of the carnage stuck to his feet. But before the red menace could shut the compartment again he was hailed by the commander.
"Wait. You did a marvelous job today, even if it was pricey. Is there any way to get a hold of you again?"
Omega turned to face him, his face showing no emotion. "Come to hunter's camp and hope you get lucky." He closed the cockpit, turned on the systems, and began takeoff. The machine revved earnestly before the legs did their work, launching the mechanical beast into the air.
As the jet flew off into the distance, Alfredo turned to his leader, "He may have been pricey, but it was certainly worthwhile. We'll never have to worry about our rivals again, and we got a new aircraft out of it/ Worth a heck of a lot more than three thousand honestly..."
The captain turned to face Alfredo, "True, true... And if people found out that bad things happened to those who tried to attack us, then I daresay they'll be discouraged from following suit."
"Very true, Scimitar sir."
The pair stared into the distance. Evening was in full swing, the horizon glowing like fire. The clouds were clearing, their shadows receding from the ground below in a menacing crawl. Alfredo turned back to his commander.
"But I think that there's something we'll both agree on here."
"What is that?"
"That we must keep him a secret for as long as we can. A mercenary of that caliber, along with whoever his buddies were, is a valuable find. Too valuable, perhaps, to share," Alfredo stated.
Scimitar looked at him. "I think you're absolutely right. Far too valuable to share..."
The two left their conversation, heading back towards the ships.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega arrived back at the apartment building with little fuss. He'd bribed a young hunter into finding a hanger for his jet, and the hunter had produced a nicely secluded one quickly. After all, since the Ouroboros incident, many more of the hangers were available, not that the devil reploid either knew nor cared of that in the end. After putting necessary any safety precautions in place, the pale blonde robot closed and locked the hanger. The young hunter also told Omega that he'd convinced the hanger's owner to let Omega park there once the red reploid was within hailing distance. Omega answered by giving him a decent sum and walking off as the hunter whooped in glee.
As he entered the complex he turned to the receptionist. Without further ado he told her that he'd pay for room 311 and room 312's occupants. At first she laughed at him, but when he produced the necessary funds, turned around, and headed for the elevators, she had little else to do but gape.
The moment he entered room 311 he was greeted by incredulous looks. All eight heads swiveled towards him from around the main table, wide eyed at his blood-soaked, ragged clothes. The Gem gang stared at him for a full minute before simultaneously bursting into an assault of questions.
"What the HELL happened to you?"
"Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
"ACK! Just look at your shirt! What did you do to it?"
"Whoa mister, did you go into a meat shop and get-"
"- attacked by a beef-wielding butcher or somethin'? You look awful!"
Opal jumped up, meal completely forgotten in haste. Her fork was still flying through the air as she rushed over to check for wounds, "Geeze you're a mess. Come on over here!"
She dragged Omega over to the sink, grabbing a dish rag on her way. Wetting it, she began scrubbing furiously at his arm as Sapphire leaped from the table and towards a nearby med kit as Opal berated him.
"You silly brat! You must've gone through hell in a hand basket to have gotten this-"
She lifted the rag, staring. As well as the blood, it was coated with enough gunk and grit that it was slowly congealing into sludgy lumps. If it weren't for the dark green flecks reflecting light in it, it would have looked an awful lot like tar.
"-Dirty..." She looked at Omega, taken aback. "Uh, seriously? When was the last time you had a bath?"
"Bath?" He answered quizzically. Ruby stood straight up, appalled.
"You mean to say that you can't remember the last time you had a bath? Goodlord what are you thinking!?" She rushed over, her fashionable jacket being tossed to the side where it was safe as she grabbed Omega's other arm. "There's the men's bathroom right there, let's get to it Opal!" she bossed.
The two girls began pulling him towards the facilities, the suddenness of their actions allowing them to force him halfway to their destination before his brain kicked back in.. He broke free, backing up. "No way, you're not gonna make me have a bath. I'm a reploid! I don't need one!"
He continued backing up, eyes warily assessing the two women until he hit something solid. Looking back, he saw it was Emerald towering over him, the gentle brute solemn and unyielding. He grabbed Omega, pinning the red reploid's arms to his sides. The rest of the gang came forward, a mischievous but determined glint in their eyes.
"Oh no, no way you are getting out of this one pal!" Opal smirked as the rest of the group crept in, all except for Amethyst, who was opening the bathroom door, and Sapphire, who was shaking her head and putting the kit back where she'd found it.
Omega, tired from his earlier exploits, whined. "Aw, Hell..."
The Gem Gang pounced!
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Elsewhere, Grey and Aile walked down the street without a care in the world. They were enjoying a peaceful walk down the main drag of Hunter's camp, re-familiarizing with the place since Albert's last escapade had nearly wrecked it. Many of the hunters saluted them respectfully, being well aware that they were the famous Mega Men. Grey glanced back at Aile, who was walking leisurely behind him.
"Hey mom, why are we taking a walk again?"
"Because," she replied, "It helps to clear your mind. Besides, I haven't seen too much of camp before, so I thought it might be fun to explore."
"Okay, that makes sense..."
The two continued walking. It was when they arrived in a residential area that they heard the commotion.
"Don't even try!"
"Damnit, get a better hold of him!"
"Oof!"
"Lock the door!"
"I won't give up so easily!"
"Says you!"
"Get back here!"
"OW! That bloody hurt!"
"Well what did you expect you idiot?!"
"DON'T YOU EVEN DARE!"
They looked around, confused. It didn't take them long to find the source. Three floors up a window rattled, the curtain covering it shaking angrily. As they watched, the shadows of its occupants flitting to and fro across the narrow glass, and it quickly became apparent that there was a hive of activity just beyond its borders. Some of the occupants were running, some were jumping (or maybe just being thrown for all they knew), and some were flailing appendages. Grey turned to Aile.
"Think we should try and help them?"
She shook her head. "No, let them settle their dispute themselves. Interfering isn't always the best thing."
"Okay mom!"
With that, the mega men left. The chaos in the apartment went on undisturbed as the sun slowly set, taking with it the last light of a burning horizon.