Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)
By Rich
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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