The Business of War

Stage 3


General Cutman War Journal, Stage Three

I’ve heard enough excuses in the last few days to last me until the sun burns out.

So frustrated was I that I personally worked on a few projects which I had previously left to the care of my Engineer Joes. It was a clear signal that I wished to be left undisturbed for all but the most vital information.

With my sleeves rolled up past my elbows, I was wrist deep in what was once recognized as “Heatman” before he was brought to me, a battered, destroyed mess. In a few short days, he’d be back online, thanks to one of the few successful missions my Officers had accomplished over the last days.

Installing the bomb-type detonation chamber in his stripped-bare frame, he occasionally twitched. I purposely left him semi-activated- it would serve as useful mental scarring later.

Someone entered the room. Not in a particular rush to address them, I kept working until they addressed me. It would be three minutes, forty-two seconds until they did.

“Sir.”, came a curt calling out from the captain of the Seven Mercenaries. I see he was still a little sore from our last meeting upon hearing of his failure.

“Speak.”

“My repairs are complete, as are the other Mercenaries’, sir. We await your next orders.”

I shook my hands free of the oily blood found in Heatman, and I turned to face him. Was that…spite on his face?

Perhaps.

“The Cossack faction is proving to be quite the thorn in my side.”, I say, cryptically.

“I agree, sir. However, I must also point out that the Robot Police Force has given us even more trouble.”, Quint countered.

“We’ll deal with them in due time.”, I state. “But the fact that Cossack has managed to keep his base of operations so secret for this long is bothersome. I don’t like it. I want to know what he’s really up to out there, all by himself.”

Quint could see what I was getting at. “Do you wish for me to take the Mercenaries on a hunting excursion, sir?”

I pause for a few seconds as I wipe the remaining residue from my hands and roll down my sleeves. I then motion for him to follow me out of the doors, leaving Heatman twitching on the table behind me, a limbless, faceless mass of metal.

We enter the main Officer meeting hall, which contained the other Mercenaries, Mesmerman’s soulless slaves, and the Ascendant Androids. Outside of their independent groups, few of them seemed willing to talk to one another. A rivalry was evident beyond their overall loyalty to the Scissor Army itself.

Good.

I decide to cut right to the chase, so to speak.

“Doctor Cossack annoys me.”

“Join the club.”, Napalmman snorted. He was fast becoming the most outspoken against the Cossack forces over the past few days.

“The time has come to tear away his curtain of secrecy. The lot of you are going to find him, and drag him out of his cozy little citadel by his face. You are to bring him to me alive.”, I state as the newest obsession they will be afflicted with.

“Do we have any leads on where he may be?”, CrystalGirl asks.

“The most obvious choice is in the remote region of Russia…Beyond the range of our teleportation capabilities.”, the acoustic killer Ballade informed.

“Ah man…You can’t be serious.”, Gyroman complained. “You want us to walk around dumbass Russia and hope we run into this guy’s pad? Can’t we just, y’know, use a satellite to find this jerk and THEN go after him?”

“Don’t question the General!”, demanded Quint. “Know your place!”

“Hey, kiss my ass, kisser of asses!”, Gyroman rebuked. “The day an Android takes orders from a lowlife Merc is the day the SA joins the UN! Ain’t happenin’ bitch.”

“Spoiled little bastard!”, Punk yelled in retaliation.

The two sides continued to bicker for a few moments while I discussed a few finer points with Mesmerman’s favorite employee, Geminiman. Finally, I decided to end it.

“Ladies and gentlemen.”, immediately getting their attention. Repeating myself was something I never had to do amongst my Officers. Ever. “The mission is clear. Find. COSSACK. Find him…NOW.

Once he is out of the way, we’ll annihilate Wily, and then the RPD. By then, the world will be ours.”

“For Elysium!”, Napalmman yelled with gusto, followed by the remaining occupants, who funneled out of the meeting hall with no more delays, and headed towards the frozen tundra that was Russia.

I headed back to my desk.

Sitting down, I read my copy of the Wall Street Journal, which was getting thinner and thinner with each passing day. I guess we just keep killing their “journalists”. Oh, and stocks are down.

“Sergei, Sergei, Sergei…”, I supposedly mumbled.

The only reason I knew I had uttered his name was due to Shoryu pointing out my doing so.

“Who’s he?”

“Who’s who?...Oh. Hm hm hm…Just talking to myself.”, I explain to the previously hidden spider-machine, who’s location before now was hidden to me.

“You’ve been doing that a lot, Papa-san.”

I have no idea where “Papa-san” came from, by the way.

“Have I?”, I inquire, putting down my paper as I rest my chin on my fists. My head was now resting on the desk, and I was nearly eye-level with this little pet of mine. “Tell me, have I said anything…interesting?”

Shoryu giggled.

“You keep on saying something about your brother. I didn’t know you had one, Papa-san! I wanna meet him!”

My brother…

“He…Isn’t here…Anymore…”, I say, not particularly sure if I know what “brother” I was mumbling about. I do, however, have my hunches.

“Heh heh…Why don’t you just…re make him? Like you did with me, Papa-san?”

I found myself tapping my fingers to my teeth at the thought. “No…The past is the past…Why don’t we look towards the future instead? We have…Elysium to work towards, after all! Its going to be all kinds of fun!”

“Heh heh…I don’t know, Papa-san…It sounds kind of…boring…”, she rebuts.

“Maybe when your AI is upgraded, you’ll understand…But for now…just enjoy the trip.”

“We’re having lots of fun, aren’t we?”

“Kyahaha…Yesss! Yes we are!”

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