"A peace bought by terror, and terror brought by peace. Things had changed much less then I first thought..."
In a torn and battered laboratory, two armored men fight a desperate battle. It raged in a shadowed room, its sounds echoing all over the quiet building. Dust swirled as sharp bursts of light punch through it, each shot a closer call then the last. A blast of energy rings out, barely stopped by an upheld shield. A deadly charged shot sails wide, slamming into an already weakened pillar. The brutal exchange, while only the work of mere minutes, seems to go on for an eternity.
Suddenly, however, the winds of battle change, and fate smiles upon her chosen. One man goes down, his wounded leg finally giving out on him. His opponent, sensing the end of the fight, draws a glowing blade of light from his side. Raising it high, he goes to end it all with a single final strike. A shield shoots out at the last moment, diverting the killing blow from its master.
The wild strike flew wide, directly into a nearby column. Stressed to the limit, the concrete slowly collapsed with a groan of pain. The sword wielder dived away; he did not intend to die here. With a quick jab to his belt he had teleported away, reappearing on a torn hill just outside.
Watching the tortured building collapse on itself, he returned his glowing blade. He chuckled to himself a little, which quickly turned into a full hearty laugh. He laughed at a job well done. He laughed at the trials he had to face to get him here. He laughed as he remembered the sight of his opponent attempt to bring his shield up in a pitiful attempt to protect himself from untold tons of concrete. He laughed at revenge, finally served.
The man slumped to his knees, feeling his power running low. The battle had taken a lot out of him, but it was all worth it in the end. His thoughts turned to his plans once he had been repaired; there was a lot to do now that the fighting was over. His injuries caught up to him, and he slumped into safe mode, shutting down.
In the background, the shaking had slowed to a stop, and things had almost gone peaceful again. As the moonlight shined down on the torn remains of a black armored robot, the world would know peace for a time to come...
The world had come a long way since days of old. Peace and prosperity had come to the world and many a technological achievements had advanced human kinds way of life. Not the least of which were the Reploids; a race of robots, designed to be partners with humans on their journey through life. Originally a race of servants, a series of spectacular battles had taken place in which certain Reploids had declared their independence, and showed the world that these machines were anything but unthinking automatons.
Called Mavericks by humans, or Irregulars by their robotic brethren, the defiant Reploids challenged the established order. A Reploid stopped them, however, by the name of X; he knew the way of peace could not be through hate and war. Assisted by his friend Zero, the two of them fought countless battles, quelling the Maverick Revolt by defeating its villainous leader.
Now the world is in a quiet peace. Following the lead of their two heroes, various groups came together to form a force collectively called the Maverick Hunters. In this project of both humans and Reploids, they could watch the world and stop any Maverick outbreaks before they could gain momentum.
It is in this world that an excavation site sits, nestled on the edge of a warm desert. Miles away from any cities, it was once the site of a great laboratory. It was destroyed, however, and later buried by the sands of the years. Found later by a traveler, it was turned into a site when artifacts of the past were found. Under the eye of the great Dr. Cain, famed creator of the Reploids, the site is one of many strewn about the world. In one of them Dr. Cain hopes to find a way to end the curse of the Mavericks once and for all...
Chipping away at the hardened concrete underneath him, the excavator Reploid chatted away with the man next to him. The Irregulars had been quiet of late, which he thought meant that they were up to no good. The man shushed him however; the last he had heard, the Maverick Hunters themselves had just put out an announcement along those lines. They had said that except for isolated incidents, there was no need to worry.
As the two argued their traditional sides in their traditional argument, a low clang suddenly rang out. The Reploid looked down to see that his pick had actually stumbled onto something. His friend crouched down to brush dirt off the object, telling his partner in no uncertain terms what would happen to him if he had damaged the find.
It was a grey piece of metal. Rolling his eyes, the man sat back on his heels as he realized they probably had found a piece of a floor or something. He looked up to the squat Reploid next to him, telling him to move on a few paces. Kicking at the dirt, he glared at the metal shard. As his foot ran over the smooth surface, it hit upon a bump on it, clearly showing a red-lined opening on the grey metal.
Eyes wide, he started pushing dirt around with a new zeal. Finding what looked to be an eye-slit, the Reploid crouched down to help. Between the two of them, they dug out a long, oval shaped object. Pale grey in color, it was lined with red along its outer edge. With its small red slot in the middle, it was quite clear that the object was some sort of shield.
The Reploid turned to his human companion and pointed, telling him to go get the supervisor. The man nodded then popped up, rushing over to the main tent. While he was gone, the robot kept working, digging away at the nearby area. By the time his friend came back with the others, he had dug out a small trench around the shield. With everyone's help, the group managed to pry the object from the ground.
Underneath was a man. Or to be more precise, it was a Reploid. He wore a heavily cracked red and white helmet with burn marks on his cheek. His body was torn and burned, and his right arm bore the remains of some sort of mounted cannon; sticking out from under the protective shield was his utterly crushed legs. From his condition it was obvious that he was in a heated battle, most likely what brought the entire place down.
With care, the group's technician and doctor started directing people to pull him from the ground. They slowly carried him back to the tent while the excavation director talked to the Reploid who had found him. Their animated conversation held everyone's attention as they debated where he had come from.
Back at the site where they found him, the first man sat, staring into the hole. Noticing an odd color in the dirt, he reached down and pulled out a tattered yellow scarf. Looking back at the Reploid who had just come out of the hole, he followed, sure that he would want it back if he was ever revived...
Opening my eyes, I abruptly squinted as light shot into them. Testing my left arm, I tried to bring it up to cover my face. Slowly, gingerly, it responded, covering the painful light.
That hurts...?
Slowly turning my head, my eyes adjusted to the bright light as I looked around the room I was in. It looked like a tent. There were machines spread about wherever they fit, crowding for space. There was a dusty floor, and the rumble of machines droned in from outside. I was lying on a hard table.
I feel so weak...
Testing to make sure I was not strapped down, I moved around a little. Noting that everything seemed to work correctly I slowly sat up, groaning slightly as my joints activated. Pushing my jet black hair out of my eyes, I looked myself over. My armored bodysuit had been removed, and it appeared that I had required some hard repairs. Following a tube off my arm, I noticed I was hooked up to a energy feeder. I sighed as I felt power slowly filling my systems, my Self Repair System doing it's work. It felt good to have power. Narrowing my eyes, my gaze drifted to my legs. Hunching over, I noticed that they were NOT the same legs that I remembered. Not that I remembered much...
Where am I, anyway...?
Running my fingers over my new legs I noted that they were sleeker, slimmer, then before. They seemed a lot tougher also. Carefully, I flexed the leg, noting with surprise that they reacted much quicker then before. Noting a small hole in the back of the leg, I marveled as I felt for more. There were a lot more Dash ports then I remembered. Pausing as the memory of a black armored man came into mind, I shook my head to rid it from the infuriatingly familiar memory.
Thanks, whoever you are. At least you got the right colors...
Easing myself sideways, I hopped off the table, careful to keep connected to the energy feeder. Walking around the room, I found my helmet on a desk, next to some sort of energy pistol. It was heavily cracked; the glass readouts were shattered, and the shell of the helmet be to been nearly cracked in two. Shaking my head I moved around to the other side of the table where I found my trusty shield on top of a stack of papers. Taking it up I saw that it had survived whatever ordeal I had been through. Finding the shoulder strap missing, I poked around a little, finding an appropriately sized strip of material to replace it.
You have done well, my old friend. Nice to have you back...
While searching for a strap I had found a vest of red body armor on a nearby rack. Looking around, I slipped into it, noting that it seemed to size itself to my body. Tapping it a few times, I declared it safe, though I really wished that my bodysuit was still in one piece. I felt... naked with out it. It was around this time, when I stopped to see if I had missed anything in my initial investigation, when I noticed that sounds outside had changed from droning work to yells and explosions.
Looks like a welcoming party is here. Time to go greet them.
Looking down at my ruined Buster, I glanced back towards the pistol I had seen earlier. A small, grey model, it looked capable of taking some punishment, but not all that powerful. Aiming it at the ground, I fired it a couple times, getting a feel for the thing. Watching the blast released, I noted with wide eyes that it looked as strong as my Buster. Narrowing my eyes, I held the trigger for a few seconds. The gun glowed a pale green, as lines of energy drew into it. Letting off the trigger, the small thing released a larger blast; it was a twisted shot of energy, pale green in color, and it looked at least as powerful as the Buster I was used to.
Well, well... This thing packs a bigger punch the it looks...
As a explosion roared nearby, I was jerked from my contemplations. Glancing at my shield, held ready in my left arm, and my new pistol in my right, I was ready to get out there. Stepping over to the doorway, I stopped as something felt oddly wrong. Looking around, I grinned as I saw what I was looking for. Marching over to the table where I had started, I pulled the energy feeder out of my arm and scooped up my yellow scarf. Settling it around my neck, I shifted my head, making sure it was secure.
Let's get this party started!
Whistling slowly, I rushed outside into the unknown.
"It seems my destiny is battle. My future is no different then my past..."
Slamming the head of his heavy shovel into the ground, the large Reploid looked up at the low sun, rubbing his neck. Lost in his own thoughts, he started when he heard a voice behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his supervisor yelling at him; a thin, small Reploid with a big hat and an even bigger attitude. Growling, he picked up his shovel to get back to work.
"Why should I?" he grumbled to himself before he stopped to think that over. He was easily the biggest Reploid on the worksite; as a heavy construction model built bigger then a truck, he was the one that the workers called when they needed a crane or bulldozer. There was no one else on the site with nearly the power of him, of that he was certain. Why should he work? He would just take what he needed! And now, that bossy supervisor was coming to yell at him again"
"Hey, buddy? Did you hear me? We need that rock face-!"
Spinning with speed that even surprised himself, the construction Reploid slammed his shovel directly into the stomach of the supervisor. Flying backwards a few paces, the other Reploid slammed into a wall, slumping to the ground. Looking down at the shovel gripped lightly in his hands, the large Reploid smiled, liking how that felt. Tipping his head back he laughed, his new rebellious spirit glowing warm in his breast.
"Hahaha! No one can stop me, now!"
Stepping out of the tent, the man with the yellow scarf threw up a hand to stop the blowing dust from covering his eyes. Wishing for his helmet, he searched around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. It was easy enough to find; a hulking construction machine was going wild, cleaving into trucks with a massive shovel and batting away anyone who tried to stop him. He could hear cries of 'Maverick!' echoing from all over the camp. Pushing through the throng fleeing from the Maverick was a bit difficult. Creatures of all sizes were running as one large mass; small ones filled the holes under the bigger ones. A look at his face was enough for most to move out of way.
Coming around a corner between two heavily mangled trucks, he was suddenly in the clear, facing the berserk machine directly. Still a little weak and unsure of the changes to his body, the man set off, shield held in a loose grip, pistol humming as it gathered power.
Catching sight of him, the massive machine laughed. "So, you think you can stop me, you little punk? You're no Hunter; I'll crush you, and then be off before they get here!"
Popping off a twisting green charged shot from behind his shield, the other man rushed to the left behind a low line of rocks. The yellow scarved man dived to the side, the massive shovel throwing his attack back in retaliation.
Pausing behind a twisted steel girder, the man mentally ran over the area, plotting out his attack angles. The battle was taking place in a hollow of sorts. The Maverick had surrounded itself with destroyed vehicles and rubble. If he could get up one those "walls" he might be able to attack from head level, hitting the Maverick directly.
Hearing the wail of the shovel coming out his way, he dived forward as the tool sliced through the mess of girders. Rolling up from his dive, shield up protectively, the man smiled as he saw the digging tool was stuck. Charging another blast from his pistol, he rushed forward, a plan coming to mind. Slapping aside a kicked rock with his shield, he launched a twisting blast of green energy at the face of the hulking Maverick. It roared in pain as the shot struck home. Angry and hurt, it tore the shovel out of the ground, swinging it at the thing that had hurt it so.
Rolling around the digging tool, dirt still clinging to it, the pistol wielder fired off a line of small shots. One sailed wide, flying off into the summer sky, but the other two traced across the Maverick's face. Taking the shots, the Maverick slashed at the annoying fighter with its shovel. As the man leapt over the tool, a giant fist shot forward, punching him into a nearby truck bed.
The man groaned as he shook his head, pulling himself from now dented truck bed. He looked up to see a shovelhead diving at him like a giant spear. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet, knowing he was not going to be able to move fast enough to get away this time. Bringing his shield up, he dived forward, low and along the ground. He felt a sudden pressure from behind his legs, shooting him forward under the attack.
Gasping in surprise, he rolled up over his shoulder and fired unsteadily at the Maverick. The pistol rounds all hit around the Maverick's face and shoulders, enough hits to cause it to growl in pain. Realizing the Maverick was stuck again, this time in the truck he had been thrown into, the smaller man charged another shot as he ran off to the side behind a pile of concrete. He fired off a blast and ducked behind his cover. The resulting howl of pain told him that his shot had hit true.
Pushing black hair from his eyes, then man with the yellow scarf checked over his feet. Though he had Dash Jets from before, they had never reacted so quickly or powerfully. He was worried that he had somehow blown them when he had activated them. Putting down his pistol, he ran his fingers over his new legs, surprised that the Dash Ports felt all right. Doing a quick diagnostic check with his main computer systems, he noted that they all checked out there, too. Amazed at the technology level in this place he was in, he quickly shook it off to think about later. He had a battle to win, first.
Picking up his pistol, he charged another blast, and then dashed out to the side as a giant boulder slammed into his hiding position. Noting the ease he was having getting used to his new Jets, he fired off his next blast. The green wave slashed across the Maverick's cheek, the melted metal giving way and tearing a large gouge out. Watching as the thing howled, he knew that he would have to end this quickly.
Dashing forward, he fired up at the livid Maverick, scoring hit after hit. He was forced to change his attack angle as the shovel rocketed out of the sky, clawing huge chunks out of the ground as it slammed down all around him. Dashing and rolling in between each thunderous strike, the pistol wielder kept up his barrage; charging medium strength shots when he could, laying about with the smaller rapid-fire ones when he had no time.
Seeing that the Maverick slowing, he charged one final destructive blast. Pausing, he took a moment to get careful aim, and then released the trigger. He cursed as nothing happened. Diving out of the way of a stomp from the other machines heavy feet, he looked over the pistol, trying to figure out what had happened to it. Seeing a thin wisp of white smoke coming from the barrel, he groaned, knowing what had happened. He had blown out the capacitor on the energy cell; unless he could get it replaced, it would be shooting no more. And that was not going to happen during this fight.
Turning back to the Maverick, he was surprised to see that it was not attacking him. The Maverick was staring down at something else in front of it. Suddenly, a silver flash of light shot out from the back of the machine's head, and it slumped to the ground on its knees. Seeing the telltale signs of an impending explosion, the man crouched low behind his shield as the Maverick's system went critical and exploded. Feeling shrapnel and waves of energy bounce off his shield, he looked up when the explosion had subsided. There was a huge smoking hole in the ground, but the Maverick was nowhere to be found.
"Not bad, kid. What's your name?"
Hearing a low, feminine voice behind him, he turned to see someone standing on a pile of nearby concrete, silhouette eclipsed by the sun.
"I..." His memory hiccupped as it struggled to come up with a response. A wisp of a memory came to mind, of a younger woman with blonde hair and green eyes looking up at him. Where are we going today, brother?
Shaking his head, he relaxed his stance and smiled up at the woman.
"Time marches on, with or without use. Rarely, though, does one experience life from two different lifetimes..."
She was a tall woman, with the light build of a dancer; slender limbs and a quick grace. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a slightly mischievous smile framing her creamy face. Light silvery armor hung over a burnished copper bodysuit; the whole outfit looked optimized for speed. A simple silver helmet swept back into a nest of short hair that started brown, but faded to black as it met the tips. She leaned on a long white rod, which to all appearances looked to be a staff or spear of some sort. The woman was not human, at least not fully; a pair of graceful, vulpine tails swept behind her, colored the same odd brown-black as her hair.
Leaping off her perch, the woman twisted in a graceful arch as she landed behind him. She slowly made her way around him, looking him over.
"I don't recognize you. When did they assign a Hunter to this dig site?"
Blues gave her a confused look. "What?"
She stopped in front of him and folded her arms. "You fight well; like a Hunter. What unit are you with?"
Unfamiliar with the term, Blues continued undaunted. "Unit? I am no Hunter, if that is what you mean...?"
The woman cocked her head to the side, a wisp of hair falling across one eye. "But... if you've not-"
Blues pushed through her hesitation. "Who are you, anyway?"
Shaking her head, she stood upright and saluted loosely. "Pardon my rudeness. I'm Argent Fleur, Junior Hunter in the 11th Regulars, under Commander Tiger."
Now we are getting somewhere... He nodded, holding out his hand. "Call me Blues, as I already said. I must say, for a human, you are quick, Miss Argent."
She took the offered hand, shaking her head. Humph. Normally, the tails tip people off. "No, I am a Reploid, same as you. The 11th is a fully Reploid unit."
Blues blinked in surprise, slowly getting used to the almost constant feeling. She seemed as advanced as himself, if not more so. She looked so much like a human, albeit for her odd tails. He could not help but wonder if many more of the humans he had seen were actually these 'Reploids', and he just did not recognize them.
She waved to the surrounding area, which had recently been a battleground. "As I was saying, you fight quite well, if not a little stiffly. Having some trouble with your Hand Buster?"
Seeing her holding out her hand, Blues nodded and placed the gun into it. She looked it over carefully, checking down the barrel and over the grip. Handing it back to him, she whistled, shaking her head. "You must be incredibly brave or stupid; with the rigors you were putting that training gun under, it's no wonder the poor thing gave out."
Training gun? This thing is as powerful as my Buster Arm... Shaking his head, he simply shrugged. "There was no one else here at the time, Miss Argent."
She waved him off. "By the time I showed up, you seemed to have the big guy in hand. I was curious of what you could do, so I waited until it looked like you needed help." She shrugged. "And please, just call me Fleur."
"Suit yourself. Where are you headed now?"
Fleur shrugged. "Well, now that the Maverick is gone, I need to speak with the Site Director to see if anything else requires my help. Then..." Trailing off, she gave him one more hard look, and then shrugged again. "Well, you can help with that. Can you lead me to the Director quarters?"
"I... really do not know my away around this place. Sorry." Blues shrugged.
She nodded. "New worker, eh? Well, let's go get looking around... You ever consider a job in the Maverick Hunters?"
With Fleur chatting merrily, they set off to go look around the camp. Blues could not help but to wonder what sort of rabbit hole he had fallen into.
A few minutes later, they had managed to find the center of the dig site's residential area. It was teeming with humans and Reploids, all shaking off the shock of having a Maverick appear in their midst. They cheered a little as the two came into view; they knew who had saved them. An older human male pushed his way out of the crowd, yelling at them to all get back to work. Apparently, he had been yelling at them for a while, as the gathering quickly drifted off. He stepped up to the two of them and introduced himself.
"Hello, there. You must be the Hunter that was dispatched our way. I am Victor, Director of Site Four." He held out his hand to Fleur, who shook it firmly.
"Argent Fleur, Junior Hunter in the 11th Regulars, under Commander Neon Tiger." She gave the Director a salute. "Between Blues here and myself, we were able to take down that Maverick pretty quickly. I must say, he's a rather good fighter for a worker. You run into much trouble in this area?"
Shaking his head, Victor turned to look at Blues, confusion written all over his face. "But... you're not a worker..." Pausing, the light of understanding came to the older man's face. "You are that Reploid that was just excavated, aren't you?"
Fleur looked startled, as she looked over her companion in a new light. "What? You?"
Blues looked at the two of them and simply shrugged. "I have to admit ignorance, here. I just woke up and tried to help..."
Fleur glanced at Victor and back at Blues, then smiled. "Well, this makes my job easier"
The Director gave her a look, then sighed in slight irritation. "I suppose Cain would want to see him immediately." He turned and waved them to follow him, talking back over his shoulder as her walked. "He always was rather impatient when it came to his work..."
Taking the hint, the other two followed. Blues looked over at Fleur, that lost feeling starting to come back to him again. "Fleur. What is going on?" he asked in a low voice.
"I would not worry about it, too much." She gave him a smile.
Glaring at her, Blues suddenly wished he had his visored helmet to hide his expression behind. Pausing to think over that thought, he shook his head and barreled on with his questions. He would have to save the self-evaluation for later; things were moving much too quickly for his tastes.
"Who is Cain, and why am I being taken to him?"
"Persistent, aren't you?" The female Reploid laughed a little, and then continued. "Doctor Charles Cain is the man who created the Reploids. A top robotic scientist, he found a, well, pre-Reploid named X in an abandoned laboratory."
Blues frowned as she talked, the ghost of a memory drifting through his mind. The sounds of a man yelling and the smell of pulverized concrete...
"So, now Doctor Cain is rather interested in anything that can be found in these dig sites. Obviously, this Doctor Light was incredibly skilled; maybe he knew some way to stop the Mavericks once and for all." Blues nodded along with her narration, only half paying attention.
Reaching the main tent, Victor pushed his way inside, gesturing them to follow. As they walked in, Blues stepped forward and grabbed the opening, holding it open for his companion. He waved her in.
With an indignant look, she stopped, opening her mouth to complain. Figuring this was going to happen, he glared at her. "Just go, Fleur."
Giving him hard look, she stalked inside. Looking around the camp a final time, Blues turned and ducked into the tent. Doctor Thomas Light...? How do I know his name?
A tad bit of extra credit before class is dismissed, however. Does anyone know what Dr. Cain's first name is? I could use the help, if you folks know.
