The Business of War

Are You Bad Enough?

Scenario C
Jack Vulcan (RPD)
Mr.Whiz (WW) (W)
Seven Mercenaries(SA)
Tech Tyrants (C)

Location: Washington D.C.
Max. Cossack Scrap Value: 6956
SA Infantry: 1925
RPD Units: 1827
Wily Bots: 113

Washington D.C. was a place that was surprisingly spared by the ongoing War. Regardless, very few people remained. Residents flocked at the recommendation of the US Armed Forces who would soon take full lock down on the nation's capital. Luck was on thier side that the Scissor Army had made no attempts on the area. All the leading heads of the government were cooped up in isolation, believed to be safe from any outside interference.

Though the military was stationed around the capital's boarders, letting nobody in or out if they lacked official clearance, the RPD guarded the most powerful men and women in the country right from the inside. The RPD's chief had assigned a single officer on routine bodyguard duty. No signs were apparent that an attack would happen any time soon; luck was still on their side at the moment the administration sent their bodyguard out. Before they knew it, however, they had finally run out of luck as a group gathered around the outskirts, eyes red with a thirst for blood.

Among the silhouettes was the Scissor Army's own Captain Quint. As one of the more disciplined officers, he was entrusted to launch a surprise attack on the nation's capital. His mission; to kill the President of the United States. A large proportion of his troops was composed of Dark Joes. A gift from the fallen comrade know as Wraithman. Quint smiled, knowing that Wraithman would not be forgotten so soon.

The Captain turned to his teammates. While the RPD was busy with his troops, they would rush in to the White House and destroy all targets. In addition to the President, every person would be next in line to become leader was to have thier head put on display for the American public. Quint examined Hyper Storm. Since he was upgraded back into an Officer, they had disconnected his brain and replaced it with that of a Scissor Joe. While the SA Joes in uniform lacked Magnus' skills and personality, they made up for it with... reliability.

The Captain smiled as he opened a communications channel with his partner.

"Whiz... we'll start the attack soon. Do you remember the plan?"

"Yeah... I mean, yes sir." From the sound of his voice, the anti-Quickman still seemed down.

Quint pondered this for a second. They needed every helping hand possible for this mission, and a depressed Robot Master was useless weight. Realizing his extreme loyalty to Dr. Wily, Quint began to speak halfhearted words of comfort to the Quickman clone.

"Mr. Whiz... If this mission goes fine, I'll personally ask the General to reconsider Wily's condition." Had it been any other officer, this would have been an obvious lie. However, Quint was usually a man of his word. This could probably be heard in his voice as Mr. Whiz shot an excited inquiry on the validity of such a statement.

Quint continued, "I am one of the highest ranking officers of the Scissor Army... the General is likely to consider my request."

This was a lie. Quint knew that the General would never consider letting such a dangerous peon escape his clutches. Regardless, Whiz let himself fall for it and spoke an elated "Yes sir!" Quint just gave a sarcastic laugh as the line was closed. He would never dare to approach the General with such a petty request, but Whiz didn't need to know about it. With this, Quint launched his assault.


The news reports were conclusive. When the reports from Washington came in, AstroMan had no way of arguing with Kalinka and Dr. C. As much as he hated to derail from his plan of aggression against the SA, the president of the US did seem like a more logical target.

Being the “home team”, in absence of Cossack’s Comrades, the Tyrants were the only ones suited for the job. And Astro’s team had surprisingly remained away from the public’s scrutiny. They were the perfect team to try and regain some credibility for their faction.

The Comrades were back alright. But they had not fully rejoined the Cossacker faction. Astro couldn’t help to wonder what the hell they were up to, while the rest of them were sitting in damp, stinking shacks in the Amazon jungle. Well, at least they had shacks…
Astro’s contacts were as good as any. But there weren’t many options available that met their requirements (a far away, unpopulated, unsanctioned, and unmonitored area).

Without complaining, his team prepared for their mission: to try and protect the US government. Just getting there was going to be a feat; they had been branded as terrorists by the RPD. But Astro hoped that the commotion would help them go unnoticed.

Teleporting in as far away from the commotion as they could, his team was all geared up, already recovered from their previous mission, which had been quite a success. Overlooking the fact that Astro still had the urge to kick Blizzard in the nuts, for being a backstabbing bastard, they had managed to permanently terminate two traitors who had defected to the SA: SkullMan and FrostMan.

Astro hoped they would get the chance to nab another SA officer, but he was aware of risk that a direct confrontation implied. Their main objective was to protect the white house, or help the president and his men escape, in case the RPD was overwhelmed by the enemy. All of this while remaining out of the other factions’ sight. The thought of it made Astro’s head hurt, just for how difficult it sounded…


Through one of the many halls of the White House walked a number of men in uniform. Each huddled around one particular person, they acted as a human sheild, in turn protected by two metallic figures. The first, towering above most of them was the RPD officer Jack Vulcan. Know by many as Starman, he had recently been assigned guard duty. Beside him was a Special Forces unit, which was even taller them him and had appeared perfectly capable of destroying the hallway with an upright stance. In between all the guards was the President of the United States, James Weaving. A man of great importance, he was to be escorted to Sir Force One immediately.

Word of an officer-led assault on the Military blockade had came in like a speeding bullet, piercing the tranquility of all who stood idle in the Oval Office. Without a second to waste, they began to evacuate without any hesitation. Vulcan cursed Crorq under his breath repeatedly, annoyed that the fool had stationed him all on his own. Annoyed, his chronic insomnia had irritated him much further than usual. He grimaced as he plowed through the halls, the SF Unit and the several useless human bodyguards rubbing so close together that it might as well be an orgy.

Explosions could be heard outside. The SA was moving in much faster than predicted. Vulcan cursed Crorq yet again under his breath.

"Hey Timmy, you stay close to the President. Don't let him leave your sights, got that?"

The Special Forces Unit turned to him, confused.

"Sir, where are you going?"

"The assholes are getting too close for comfort. I'll do what I can to hold them back. Just get Weaving to the jet. If anybody gets in the way, you know what to do."

Weaving remained silent. He was like this for much of the ordeal. Nobody could blame him. A war this big could drive anybody to insanity. All who were involved were ready to shut down and be killed. The President was never an exception. A human inside and out, he had his breaking point, and now he was finally about to reach it. Vulcan rolled his eyes. He had no time to keep his mind on such things...


Without much surprise, the assault was a bloodbath. The SA's initial movement had taken the military by surprise, and they were quickly heading on to the White House. Quint was absolutely pleased. At last, his Mercenaries were victorious once more! The seven of them were rushing through the defenses, and anyone who dared stay in their path was quickly taken out by a Surging Gust or a Liquid Lash.

The body count rising steadily, a lone RPD Officer stepped in their path. Goggles over his eyes, a cigarette burning in his mouth, he fitted a glove over his right hand. Quint recognized this figure immediately as Starman. He locked eyes with the beaten down shell of a man, grinning wide.

"Go, kill our targets." Quint raised his hand to stop the complaints of his teammates, "I've been waiting a long time for this, so do as I say." The other six all sighed heavily as they moved on, leaving the two standing out front on the night time streets of Washington DC.

Quint smiled gleefully, raising his hand in a salute.

"Starman, it's a pleasure to meet you at long last. The General has you to thank for the armors. They made excellent base designs for the SA's backbone. Unfortunately, there's Captain Napalmman. He pretty much ruins whatever merit that team has. As for you, I think you should join us. The RPD is starting to crack under the pressure, so why not take the reigns of your old team? They might not be what you remember, but we can help you get along..."

Vulcan spat his cigarette out of his mouth.

"You think you're cute, don't ya? Listen you little bugger, I joined this worthless farce so that I could DESTROY the Androids; not lead them. That's what I'm gonna do, so why don't you haul your green ass back to whatever the hell cave you and the General have been living in."

"That's disappointing, Vulcan... your skills are best suited for the General's vision. You are one of the most talented fighters around, but it obvious, just by looking at you, that you're completely burned out. You're a wandering soul with nothing to believe in. We can give you something that these humans can not: an ideal." The Megaman look-alike drew out his rapier and saluted his opponent. "If you refuse, I have no choice but to fight you."

"Listen you punk, your ideals are a load of bullshit. Robo-Hitler's gonna wind up dead. Whether it is the result of my presence on the RPD or not, you're little wonderland just ain't happening. Take your ideals and fuck yourself up the ass with it." Vulcan reached behind his waist, pulling a stylish hilt that erupted into a cascade of brilliant, golden plasma. He bowed in a traditional Kendo stance to compliment Quint's salute. "Now let's rock, you green bastard."


“I think this is the place!” Groundman yelled back at his teammates. The sound of his drills digging through solid concrete was loud, so he had to raise his voice. TenguMan and PirateMan looked at their leader with a worried look on their faces, as if trying to convince him not to go through with the plan.

“What makes you think there won't be men from the secret service pointing their best guns at us when we emerge?” Tenguman was the one to speak up.

“It’s a hunch.” Astroman boasted. “So let’s just do it.”

As the drilling robot started reaching the surface, Tengu could only hope his leader was right…

As the group emerged, they were blinded by an intense light. Reflectors from around the helipad were the source. But no one seemed to be there. Just a single helicopter was parked in the middle.

Soon, they noticed a massive robot laying next to the copter. It was the upper half of a SF unit. The Tyrants hastily approached him, only to find him at the brink of unconsciousness.

“Hey, big guy!” Astro asked the behemoth. “What happened here?” he was risking their cover by tending to the poor bastard, but it was their only way of figuring things out.

“My backup will be here shortly…” the SF unit spoke. “But it might be too late for the president. The Scissor Army captured him before you terrorists.”

“Look, believe what you want. But the way I see it, right now we’re your only alternative. So tell us where they took the president if you don’t want your sacrifice to be in vain!” the TT leader knew they had no time to loose.

Silently, the RPD robot pointed his massive finger at the right direction. His primary directive was to protect the president, and right now, the Tyrants were his only means to do that.

“Lyon, go underground. You know the drill!” Without loosing another second, Astro signaled his team to move forward, while Ground returned to his tunnel, ready to ambush the SA.

“Hey Naop…” TenguMan talked to his leader while they ran further away from the helipad. “Any thoughts on why they left the president with such a lame bodyguard? I would have pictured the whole army would be protecting him.”

“I have my suspicions, Kusa…” Astro replied. “It seems that the US government is going though an internal power struggle. I bet the rest of the cabinet has already been taken to safety. And my best guess is, some of them didn’t completely agree with Mr. Weaving. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t exactly the Shutdown Code’s number one fan…”


Mr. Whiz made his way through the battlefield with the help of a few gruntbots. His encounter with the SF unit had left him in a pretty bad shape. The machine in charge of holding down the president were right beside him. The man kept on yelling at the Wily-bot, but Mr. Whiz didn’t seem to care. Being forced to do the SA’s work, instead of Wily’s, was not easy for him.

That particular area of D.C. had already been devastated by the SA, and the battle was now taking place elsewhere. Mr. Whiz was grateful for this; he was in no condition to put up a fight. His only regret was that he couldn’t seem to make contact with the Seven Mercenaries. He mission was to capture the president and bring him to them, probably because they didn’t trust him enough to do the “job”. They probably thought he would stage Weaving's death, but it didn’t matter to him. He didn’t feel like killing the man. The problem was that his com unit had apparently been damaged during the fight.

“Going somewhere, you Quickman wannabe?”

The voice of Astroman was heard from behind Mr. Whiz’s group of Wily troops.

“Who the…?” he turned around to face the trio of robot masters, which he immediately recognized as the Technological Tyrants, part of the Cossack resistance. “Take the president and find the Mercenaries. I will deal with them.” He told the highest ranking Joe of his platoon. Placing his trust in such an expandable unit didn’t feel right, but he had no choice. The Tyrants would make short work of them anyway. His only hope was to stall them long enough for the president to reach his destination.

Putting his act together, Mr. Whiz gathered all the strength he had left and engaged the Tyrants. With his dazzling speed, he actually took them of guard, and knocked both Tengu and Astro off the air. But two out of three was not enough…

He learned this lesson when a remote mine impacted him right in the chest, launching him into a nearby wall. The Tyrants approached him carefully, but they were greeted by several Anti-Quick Boomerangs. Mr. Whiz reincorporated at blinding speed, and began circling the Tyrants, while keeping them at bay with his boomerangs.

“Boy, this guy sure is annoying!” Astro complained, while trying to block the boomerangs with his orbs. “Time to finish this!”

Mr. Whiz’s race was abruptly interrupted by a couple of plasma blast from behind. A pair of Astro’s copies had fired at him, making him face the ground once again with a loud thud. When he looked up, he found a giant blade pointed at his neck. “It’s over pal.” Tengu threatened. “Groundman has already disposed of your men. The president has been taken to safety.”

Mr. Whiz looked at the Tyrants, almost horrified. He feared what they might do to his master when they found out he had failed his mission so miserably. When the Tyrants lowered their weapons and started walking away, he didn’t even move. He remained still, keeled at the middle of the street, until the Tyrants were out of sight.

Soon after, the Seven Mercenaries, sans Quint, arrived from around the corner. They didn’t like what they saw…


Quint stepped over the destroyed body of Jack Vulcan. The robot might had been formidable, but he had tried to end things quickly and got careless. It had been so easy for Quint to finish him …

His remains lay broken and mangled by Quint’s Sakugarne. He took great pleasure in driving his opponent into the ground … the opportunity just didn’t come up as often as he’d have liked. Quint turned his back on the fallen foe and began to make his way to his fellow Mercenaries.

“What’s the status?” asked the green robot over their internal line. There was more silence than he’d have liked to hear.

“What did you people do!?”

It was Punk who answered. “Whiz let the President get away. The Tyrants took him.”

The Tyrants?

“So it wasn’t the robot police, then?”

Punk seemed unsure for a moment. “No.”

“Good!” Quint grinned. “Have you forgotten? The Cossacks are public enemy number two, next to us of course. The whole point of us getting the president was to sow chaos in the United States… and that’ll happen even if those Cossacks have him!” Punk gave an enthusiastic and surprised cry. Quint wasn’t quite as convinced as he tried to sound. Still, the US government wasn’t run by just the president.

“How’s the Senate holding up?”

Mega Water answered next. “Decimated by the Dark Joes. They actually thought they were safe in their crude bunker.”

“And the Pentagon?”

Enker spoke this time. “I have it secured. Our Joes are now downloading all the information contained therein.”

“The Vice President?”

Buster Rod Answered. “Dead. As is his family. He had almost gotten away until his plane was shot down.”

Quint smiled. “So, you see? We may have lost the president, but … Washington is ours and America has been tossed into chaos!”


They had to knock out the president. None of the Tyrants felt especially happy about it, but he was struggling and didn’t seem to appreciate the situation he was in. Naop turned for a final look at the capital city.

Washington was burning. The silhouette of the Washington Monument has been toppled. He could see the swarms of Joes overrunning the streets. The team wasn’t quite out of the woods yet but, with Groundman’s tunnels, they could easily escape detection.

Naop wished he could save all of them.

With a heavy heard he ordered the Tyrants to move out. They had to make it out of the anti-teleportation field surrounding Washignton as fast as they could.


Vulcan awoke in great pain. His chest had been carved in and he was missing his arms. His legs were bent and useless. It seemed he was being carried like a sack of potatoes by a SWAT RPD officer.

Vulcan tried to speak, but found that he couldn’t. It seemed the SWAT officer had sensed some movement.

“Try not to move, sir. You’ve been heavily damaged.”

Vulcan tried to speak again, but failed.

“The mission was a scrub. Washington’s fallen to the Scissor Army. You’re being taken to the nearest base once we’re out of the anti-teleportation field. We’re almost there. You’re lucky I was able to find you. Your signal has been damaged by the Mercenary you were fighting. Luckily I was in the area when I was given the command to pull whoever I could out.”

Again Vulcan tried to speak. The officer guessed his question correctly, though.

“I’m afraid we were completely overwhelmed. You are the only one we were able to save.”

At that Vulcan didn’t try to speak again.



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