The droning of a system alert from his workstation brought X out of his slumber in the charging tube. He felt himself come groggily up over the side, and then he seated himself in his desk chair.
He had an incoming alert message from Hunter HQ. Now he felt himself come fully awake. He opened his communication window, and saw Sherry, a blonde-haired support reploid, looking harried as she locked eyes on X. "Sherry, what's going on?"
"It's Torque," she said in a rush. Tears tracked down her cheeks, reminding X that she, like many reploids these days, had taken on a number of implants and additions to make herself more closely resemble a human. "Sir, he's been killed!"
"What? When? Where is he?" X felt his chest tighten; figuratively speaking, of course. He possessed none of the human-like artificial organs now common to his kind, but he had a spark. This alone allowed him to feel like a human at times.
"It was during his patrol out at one of the restricted zones north of the city, sir. God, I saw the photos, sir! I can't believe it."
"Give me the coordinates," X barked, anger and suspicion warring within him.
"What?"
"The coordinates," X shouted, slamming his hand down on his desk. "Give me the location! I have a transporter pod on the roof here! I'll go and see for myself!" Sherry nodded mutely, sniffling as she click-clacked on her keyboard. The coordinates popped up on X's terminal screen. He took a quick image save on his temporary optic drive and shut off his console, racing to the rooftop.
X stormed up to a flat, circular pad of golden-hued metal on the building's roof. Four shimmering red nodes stood at compass points around a bubbled glass-like surface. As X stepped on the bubble, a holographic control panel appeared before him. He tapped in the coordinates from his optic drive file, wiping the image file as soon as he hit the 'transmit' key.
In a swirl of silvery light, X vanished.
Several soldier-class bots scattered and trained weapons on the silver bolt coming down out of the sky, but as soon as X materialized, their unit commander waved them off. A hulking reploid, he had been modeled on an enormous, purple silverback gorilla. X thought immediately of the ape-like training bots, but dismissed this notion. It had almost put a smile on his face, and that wouldn't be appropriate here.
"Commander X," rumbled the other reploid, standing to attention. "Swing Gollit reporting, sir!" The big man saluted, and X returned the gesture curtly.
"Where is he," X asked, wasting no time. Swing started marching away, looking over his shoulder to respond.
"Over this way about fifty meters. We have no idea what happened, and since the surveillance bots assigned to accompany him are missing, I doubt anything will be forthcoming." X followed Swing silently, jaw clenched tight.
As soon as they came within sight of the mangled metal and wire corpse, X's suspicions were confirmed. Multiple slash and stab wounds, delivered with blades of some unknown material and efficacy. What was left of Torque, a sports-car-themed reploid, looked an awful lot like Fellows's body had the day before.
The wounds were laid out in almost the exact same pattern. Only two major differences stood out. Firstly, Torque's bulbous optics had been torn out of his head, which had been shaped like a mix of a hot rod engine and a face. Secondly, Torque's whole left arm had been sliced clear off of his body and tossed several meters to one side.
"His weapons never discharged," Swing said, crouching down over the dead reploid. "The medical bot says the time between the first blow and the last was probably less than ten seconds. We've got a few in the ranks capable of that kind of speed, sir."
X considered this point, but shook his head, going through the Hunters' roster in his mind. "We do, but none of them use melee weapons capable of punching through grade-3 transteel. Grade-2 maybe, but Torque was one of our best. You're a grade-3 chassis, aren't you, Swing?"
"Yes sir," the simian mechanoid replied, looking down at the body again. "Not many of us upgraded to that yet. You and commander Zero get first crack at the grade-4 stuff if they ever get it down, right?"
"Yes, but development is slow going on it. Other concerns take up too many resources. The moon bases," X said, unable to entirely mask his annoyance. "Anything else the medical bot was able to decipher?"
"Just one thing, sir, and it wasn't the medical bot that found it." Swing stood up and a part of his belly slid outward. He plucked something out, held it up. It was a slender electro-knife, shaped like an assassin's dagger. "It was embedded in one of the stab wounds, sir. I have a deep energy analysis bot coming to collect it."
"Excellent," X said, finally feeling some kind of relief. He was about to ask for the rest of Swing's report when he had a curious notion. "Swing?"
"Sir?"
"You ever hear of something called the Omega Project?" Swing looked up and to one side, rubbing his slack lower jaw in contemplation. After a moment he looked at X and shook his head, somewhat abashed.
"Sorry, sir. I'm not exactly built for smarts. Wrecking Mavs and berserk robots is more my skill set." X just grinned and patted Swing on the shoulder. "Anyhow, we're going to move the body in just a few minutes. The restricted zone here was once used by Dr. Wily's minions. Belonged to a bot called Skull Man."
X looked behind him, over to where there was a break in the fifteen-foot high stone walls that had been erected around the restricted zone over a century before. "Very good. You may carry on, captain."
"Sir," said the other reploid, saluting. X stomped determinedly over to the break in the wall, where high, electrified wire gates stood. Four humans stood in military gear in front of the gate, looking nervous. X could hear their whispered conversation from twenty meters away.
"-know about it as well as I do. There's nothing for it."
"What do we say if he wants to go in? He's got clearance."
"Since when?"
"Order came down this morning," one of the guards said in an authoritative tone. "Now shut up. Here he comes." X stepped up and stood before the guards, all now at attention. "Megaman X, sir," said the ranking guard, the man who'd spoken last. X realized as he looked at them that while he recognized their rank stripes, he couldn't identify their uniforms.
"Sergeant," X said, his brow furrowing. "Tell me, what department are you with?"
"United States Air Force, sir," the sergeant replied.
"What division?" The tall human looked suddenly nervous, and X could see the man's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
"Human Intelligence Division, sir." X had never heard of any such group within the Department of Defense. He keyed in on the word 'Human', sensing something amiss. Without hesitation, X activated several deep-level audio analysis programs, and continued.
"And who is your commanding officer?"
"Captain Bridges, sir," the sergeant replied. X activated an extra visual scanner relay, and sighed.
"What was your division again?"
"Human Intelligence Division."
"Under which branch?"
"United States Air Force."
"Liar," X snarled, taking a step back. The sergeant blinked rapidly, but he and the other three guards just stood stock still, looking straight ahead. "You're all sweating bullets. Dipthong fluctuations indicate you're lying to me, sergeant, though not about everything. Now, as a Hunter, I am well within my authority to have you all locked up under suspicion of treason. Do you want that?" All four men shook their heads rapidly. X proceeded, now walking up and down their newly formed line. "You aren't lying about everything, though," X said quietly, just loud enough for the four guards to hear him. "Your ranks are relative. None of you is an Airman. The man in charge of you is not a sergeant, though he is the ranking man here. Now, I want someone other than the sergeant to tell me, what is your division?"
"Human Intelligence Division," said the shortest of the guards, a broad-shouldered black man built like a melee fighter. X's programs told him this was true.
"Someone else. What branch?"
"United States Air Force," said another guard, a younger man. There, thought X, is the lie. He wheeled on the young man, looking down into eyes that rattled slightly as the man tried not to blink.
"Name," he snapped.
"Eddings, sir!"
"Rank."
"Airman, sir!"
"Pure lies, both," X rumbled. Now, he thought, it was time to get some real answers. His right arm snapped out, his hand around the human's throat, while his left arm switched to cannon mode in less than the blink of an eye. Yellow light poured forth as he charged the Mega Buster. "Let's try again," X shouted like a madman, giving the terrified, gasping human a leering smile. The other humans, transfixed, stared in horror. "Name!"
"Peter Long," the guard rasped, eyes bulging. "Special Agent Peter Long, NSA!" X tossed the man back with a shove, spinning to aim the cannon at the faux sergeant.
"National Security Agency, hmm? And why, pray tell, would you gentlemen be pretending to be Airmen? Are you not supposed to be here?"
"Look," said the sergeant in a quavering voice. "Let me speak with my field commander, see if he wants me to read you in. Just please, put down the cannon."
"And if I don't," X asked softly, his expression now flat, cold and calculated. The faux sergeant shook his head and coughed.
"Then we get chalked up as imposters, and life moves on. We were instructed to say nothing to you unless pressed. If that happens, and clearly it has, I contact the field officer." X lowered his cannon, his hand ejecting from the port to make him less menacing. He rolled his arms and shoulders, and nodded to the sergeant.
"Contact him. I want to know what's going on here."
Paladin reviewed the report on a console in his private quarters of the base, impressed with Shinobi's detailed style. It was unfortunate that the mechanoid formerly known as Shadow Man had lost one of his blades, but human guards had been on their way to see what Torque's lone shout of alarm had been about.
The surveillance bots had been snatched at the last moment, and for thinking that far ahead in the heat of the moment, Paladin could do naught but praise his kinsman. Still, he worried about this early phase of master Hephaestus's plan. The key to it all lay in making certain none of them directly confronted X yet. They each had a part to play, toying with the legendary Maverick Hunter at a distance, leaving him stunned and confused.
Except Paladin himself. Hephaestus had been very clear about that. "You will communicate reports to me directly, though I will not be here," the crimson and white mechanoid had told him in the transporter room after their initial group meeting. "You will use the comm link in your chambers. I will be overseeing another project for much of the first phase. While I am away, you are in command. The others already know this."
And then Hephaestus had teleported away, leaving Paladin alone in the transporter room with its panels and displays. Shinobi's part in the first phase was now over. Orbous, formerly Crystal Man, oversaw the task of spying on X and the Hunter Organization; for now, he would do nothing.
Orbous, who looked like a cross between an arachnid and a man made of green metal, a single dome of shining glass-like material on his belly. He looked almost ridiculous compared to the futuristic ninja, Shinobi. But Orbous had been granted abilities that made him quite dangerous. He could command any standard bot within a ten mile radius, if they had no spark.
Paladin had just finished sending Shinobi's second report when he began his ruminations. Poseidon would be the next to play out his bit in phase one. Once Dive Man, the aquatic Robot Master now looked like a shark-like lycanthrope, his mouth lined with jagged, shining metal teeth. Each one was filled with a ballistic charge, and could destroy grade-3 transteel on impact.
After Poseidon's part would come the final part of phase one. The largest and strongest of their number, Titan, would start the final act, joined by Twim and Thrash. They had been, respectively, Guts Man, Gemini Man, and Quick Man, as Robot Masters. Of them all, only Titan and Paladin bore close resemblances in any way to their old bodies.
Caretaker, however, had gone with Hephaestus to the other project. Once the Robot Master Junk Man, the tall, sallow mechanoid had been given a new body fashioned after some sort of mechanical zombie or Frankenstein's Monster. His head unit resembled a desiccated human skull with synthskin stretched over the left half of the face plating. He was, in a word, ghoulish.
Hephaestus had sent Caretaker ahead immediately after that first meeting. Paladin wanted to hold another one, but would have to wait until Caretaker returned and all the others were present. It wouldn't do to have to repeat himself or lose out on possible conversation.
For now, he decided, he would meet with them all individually. Exiting his private quarters (tailored to resemble those of a Victorian lordship), Paladin made his way down a set of hallways until he stood outside of Orbous's door. Slate gray and utilitarian, the door slid open at the touch of a panel.
Inside the primary chamber, two whole walls were devoted entirely to monitors and control panels. Orbous sat on a rolling swivel chair, his multifaceted eyes peering in every direction at once. "Paladin, what brings you by," Orbous hissed. Even his voice made Paladin think of spiders.
"I wish to speak with you," he said, locating a second rolling chair and bringing it over toward Orbous. "See how you're adjusting."
Orbous turned his head toward Paladin, and the mechninoid warrior could feel every lens in those oversized eyes scrutinizing him. Angled mandibles clacked together rapidly, then went still, opened apart in front of the mouth proper. "I could be doing much worse, actually. This body has taken some getting used to, but I've had nearly six months to adjust. How about yourself?"
"I seem to be doing fine," Paladin replied, shifting so that his right arm was cocked out, palm on knee. His left forearm lay across his thighs, and he shook his head. "This body is much larger than my Knight Man chassis. But it’s also more powerful and flexible. I don't feel so rigid."
"Yes, I had noticed that about myself right away," said Orbous. He half-turned his head back to the monitors. "I 've been trying to keep an eye on X all morning. I think he's about to investigate the old Skull Man lair."
Paladin looked to the small monitors, but couldn't see which one had X in its sights. Orbous pointed to it, and Paladin flinched. "That's X?"
"Yes. He's rather intimidating at first glance. A lot more direct and unfriendly than his predecessor was. I could almost like him, in fact." Orbous used several dials and pointed to a screen directly in front of Paladin. "Plug into the audio jack." Paladin did so, drawing out a thin silver cord from the right side of his neck, plugging it into an audio port.
Orbous played back X threatening a guard at the gates to the Skull Man ruins. Paladin, thunderstruck, just shook his head slowly. "Unbelievable! This new Megaman is not someone to take lightly."
"No. But the master's plan will leave him feeling quite a lot less confident. He'll see, in those ruins. And he'll see afterwards, when Poseidon's trap is sprung."
Paladin hoped, for all of their sakes, that Orbous was right.
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