The Business of War
Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)
Blast Off to Nowhere
By by Vulcan, Geoff, Crys, Stryker & Rich
How many weeks had it been?
Four…eight…maybe a dozen, perhaps? It didn’t really matter in the
long run. It was over.
The slender man stood before the seven storage devices, hidden
away in this dark, secluded cave not found on any map. His mind
wandered to months prior, when he and his teammates casually bickered
and laughed together. That was before everything went downhill,
and it went downhill fast.
His friends had long ago decided that this wasn’t the life they
wanted. Who could blame them, he thought. The world was tough enough
as it was even before taking on the responsibility of saving it,
one city block at a time.
The world was getting more and more violent, more ruthless. It
wasn’t the kind of world where being a hero of any type actually
netted you any worthwhile rewards. This was a thankless job.
Resting in the vacuum tubes where the robotic armors of his fellow
Fifth Rebellion stable mates, the Ascendant Androids, their human
owners having long evacuated them. Now, they sat. Dormant.
Jack stood before them, slowly checking over the locks and glancing
over to the only exit to ensure no one had been spying on him.
He had plans for these old robotic shells, after all. This wouldn’t
be the end of his team.
Silently, he made a vow then. He promised the armors he’d find
worthy hosts for them. He would scour the world, looking for the
best, and only the best.
And then…He’d change it all. He’d change everything.
No longer would he be a mere hunter, seeking out small fish- the
minor criminal element. No, if he wanted to make a real difference…If
he wanted the world to be a safe place for everyone, HE had to
be the one to change it, and change it for the best.
And so, it would begin. His quest. His new purpose in life. It
was his duty to find people that he could rely on. People he could
trust. Was it even possible in this corrupt and selfish world?
He had his doubts.
But he wasn’t about to give up on this world so easily. He wasn’t
like everyone else. He would not be content! The world deserves
to be changed.
Vulcan started his walk out of the dark cavern, no longer staring
at the old forms. He had done enough dreaming for a lifetime. Now,
it was time to make those dreams a reality.
As he stepped out of the cave, he was greeted with the midnight
sky. Out here, in this vast…nowhere, there was no smog, no pollution.
The sky was so clear, he could see every star. This was what he
envisioned for the world; a clear and honest landscape.
A cigarette now lit, he turned around one last time towards the
entrance of the cave, set amongst the dry landscape. His form suddenly
vanished in a white light, and he gave his old friends one last
thought:
“I’m coming back…Someday…”
--------------------
Walter Garland sat alone in a nameless bar, piling down Ffud’s that he stopped tasting six or seven shots ago. For a war hero, his welcome could’ve used a little improvement. His US of A welcomed him back with open arms, a trinket medal, and a steaming pile of bills ranging from utilities, to the always-fun alimony. His apartment was just as dark, dingy, and humid as he remembered and still reeked like seven kinds of ass. And life as a machinist was just as shitty, dead-ended and low-paying as he remembered. To their defense, by now, even Walter occasionally forgot that he was supposed to be a war hero that capped not one, but two rustdick terrorists while serving an overdrawn tour in the Sandbox.He was still having nightmares about that night in the Sandbox, the plane he handed to the SA, and a massive, pissed off heavily armed tank-bot. It hardly mattered that his bitch-up ended up saving humanity. Every other night, the whole snafu ended a little differently. Sometimes, Napalmman burned him alive on the spot, or Crystalgirl kept him alive as her one-man human puppet theater. Or maybe the SA used the goods to wipe out humanity, leaving him and his fatass to think about what he did. His subconscious was always hitting him with something new.
Easy…easy! You came here to get away from that PSD shit! Walter reminded himself, as he reached for another drink…only someone was already handing it to him. Said someone was decked in piddly bronze armor that looked like it was eaten by a coyote and shat off a cliff, and some dorky golden yellow goggles. But Walter could recognize that Mad Max look-a-like anywhere.
“You bring that thing everywhere?” Goggle Boy asked, pointing to Joyce as she hung from Walter’s right shoulder inside his jacket, fully loaded and safety off.
“Really, everybody’s packing. I’m just trying to fit in.” Walter shot back, pseudo-defensively. “Jack…You sonuvabitch…” Walter chuckled. Jack simply shot him a wry smile.
“Nice to see you too, old buddy,” Jack smiled, gripping Walter’s hand tightly and giving it a good shake. “Mind if I treat you to a round?”
“Sure, I’m buyin’!” Walter accepted, even though Jack was already taking a seat across from him.
“So, word is you’re a war hero. Took out an SA CO with your own two hands,” Jack congratulated. “You haven’t lost your touch.” Walter simply smiled weakly.
“That’s nothing; he wasn’t as tough he looked. You’re the one who blew up Napalmman after ripping him a new asshole,” Walter modestly replied. Jack simply chuckled to himself as he poured himself another glass.
“So, what brings you here? How’d you get of the few, the proud, the human shields, anyway?” Walter asked, eager to change the subject from his disastrous mission.
“Actually, that’s why I was looking for you,” Vulcan answered, his tone turning serious. “Way back, I joined…Well…got drafted into an…elite combat team,” Walter narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“You mean like the Sinister Speds or the Mechanical Pricks?” Walter asked, even though he already knew the answer. Who else in the right mind wears bronze armor and yellow goggles, besides Mel Gibson?
“Yeah, I guess,” Jack replied. “I won’t bore you with the details. Long story short; there’s been some fallout, and we’re down a few members-”
“-And you need some shmucks to pick up the slack,” Walter finished, drinking heavily from the bottle. Jack nodded solemnly and leaned forward.
“Look, some of our technology…got away from us and got mixed up with some very ugly people. I know you’ve seen it,” Jack whispered uneasily as he pulled some very familiar dogtags out of his coat pocket.
Napalmman… Walter noted grimly. The black, destructive, walking tank that did to Baghdad what it couldn’t do to itself and made off with the goods he was trusted to protect.
“No frickin’ way. That spaz was your handiwork?!” Walter asked, alarmed.
“…Sort of…So was Gyroman. Again, long story,” Jack grimaced.
“The good news is, we won’t do this out of the goodness of our hearts like the Sinister Speds or the Mechanical Pricks. I don’t plan on running a charity, you catch my drift?
So what do you say, bud? Can I still count on ya?” Jack offered, a hopeful look in his eyes. Walter simply eyed his old pal coldly as he fixed himself another drink.
So much for letting the good times roll. Walter mused as he piled down another shot. The offer stank to high heaven. All these damn teams did was make monster after monster for themselves. That psychotic lumberjack, that retarded freakjob ninja with the tentacles, that retarded freakjob top that thought it was god, that Russian Frankenstein with those gay-ass colors, the list went on. And now apparently, Napalmman and his Brady Bunch. Then they go slug out like they were in some Michael Bay movie, and walk away like none of it was their fault. Getting mixed up in that crap left a shitty taste in Walter’s mouth.
Still, it’d be just as rotten to just leave folks wallowing in the mess these teams made. And who was he kidding? He needed some petty cash if he wanted to keep his shithole. And of course, Jack always knew how to pull at Walter’s heartstrings.
“Do we get dental?” Walter quipped.
“We get to knock the other guys’ teeth out. Is that what you had in mind?” Jack answered, smiling a little.
“Heh. Does a bear shit in the woods?” Walter answered, shaking Jack’s hand.
“Alright! It’s settled!” Jack agreed, inexplicably sounding more cheery and batting Walter on the arm. “We gotta celebrate! Know any good skin bars?”
“Heaven’s Night. It just opened up on Carroll Street. Girls there know how to put on a good show. You can’t go wrong!” Walter suggested as he finished off his last shot.
“Lead the way, old buddy!” Jack agreed as he got out of his ass. Before long, the two war buddies had piled into Walter’s old maroon 93 Asscclaim and were pulling in front of the best damn strip joint in town.
A little dumbfounded sliver of himself was asking how the hell he got talked into signing with the very people he hated. But he couldn’t kid himself; he wasn’t making it here. He was dealt a shitty job, shitty apartment, shitty lifestyle, overall, a shitty hand. Getting shot at was pretty much the only thing he could do to make these little problems go away. And Jack always knew how to keep him on his toes. Suddenly, Walter was pleased as punch to see his old pal again, even if he was just cleaning up his mess.
--------------------
The sun was slowly sinking into the horizon, casting a warm, almost friendly glow over the abandoned area of New Jersey, where the Androids housed themselves. It was mostly silent out, as the daytime animals scurried off to their respective places of rest for the night, and the nocturnal beings having yet to wake up. CrystalGirl had seated herself on the edge of the roof of the house, which acted as a decoy to the underground lab in which the ragtag team resided. She was dressed in a lavender top, and knee-length shorts, with a grease-stained lab coat assembled over it. A coffee-colored plastic bottle was in her hand, the worn label reading "White Russian". Normally, the scientifically-minded girl didn't drink, but lately, a deep depression had rooted itself in her, causing her to take up the bottle. Taking a swig of the vaguely coffee flavored vodka, she sighed heavily.Underground, back in the lab itself, Chargeman was on his way up. There had been a noticeable lack of Crys-chan, which then became his duty to check out. Moments earlier, he was merely listening to the radio - it offered something to do at any rate. After all, the city wasn't offering much entertainment. It was always easier to just listen to the horror stories of the day on the long-range receiver. He was currently adorned with a red tee-shirt and cargo pants. Morale wasn't terribly high, but he wasn't personally letting things get to him terribly. He creaked the door to the house open and stepped outside. New Jersey's cityscape was quite calming at this time of day.
She heard her colleague opening the door, and glanced down to see which one of the others had come to look for her. Spotting Chargeman, whom she'd come to affectionately nickname Prote, or Stryker, she let a small smirk momentarily grace her lips, before going back to working on her drink of choice. She'd made herself scarce for the last few days, spending most of her time hidden on the roof or out in the poor excuse for woods that surrounded the area. She made no move to hide herself from her fairly obvious location, though, and instead continued working on her drink. It was likely he wouldn't take notice of her, and even if he did, she probably wouldn't mind his banter, or company if he decided to stick around. The sunset really was beautiful tonight.
Charge took no real notice immediately, of course. It was much more like him to glance around the immediate ground level as if she were standing in plain site, waving at him. That didn't seem to be the case as usual, so he let out a slight sigh. There were times when any member might randomly disappear for the length of a day without really saying anything. There was still a sufficient shock factor from everything else going on, so quiet time was typical. Even still, to hardly be seen for days at a time was not likely to happen - especially when it came to Crys. Everyone was worried about her more than the other members. Because she was the former team-leader? Possibly. The only female team member? Also a likely cause. In the end though, the slight sound of gulping down a drink tipped him off to her being somewhere nearby. But... where? He took a chance to look up on the roof - it wasn't like she was the only person to ever go up there. "Oh! Hey Crys-chan!" He said as gleefully as he could, which wasn't hard - he really was glad to see she wasn't in trouble somehow - despite the gloom floating around base.
She pulled the bottle away from her lips for a moment, gulping as she waved to the somewhat older man. "H'lo Stryker." She responded, her voice seeming a bit thicker due to the alcohol. Though she rarely got drunk, it was not unusual for the team's ex-leader's speech abilities to become a little off kilter. She took another quick swig, the drink burning her throat as it went down, before setting the bottle to the side. "Came out here for the view?" She questioned, referring to the nearly completely hidden sun. She looked unusually tired in that moment, even for her standards. But a small smile was directed towards Chargeman, assuring him that he was appreciated company. For now, anyway.
Chargeman returned the smile, but moreso in the form of a smirk - a slight trademark of his. "You know it! That big orange ball... Reminds me of something," he said with a laugh. It was all too common for the typically-orange Android to make train puns or force himself to be the butt (in his case caboose) of his own wisecracks. "In all seriousness, I was wondering where you'd run off too. My jokes don't get the same reception when that female giggle isn't replying - after all, it's not like the others have a sense of humor anymore." Stryker began looking about the building, trying to figure out how she got up there so simply. A pile of boxes, maybe? He couldn't really tell for the moment.
CrystalGirl gave a short chuckle, and pointed to the rope ladder hanging from the roof, and nearly to the ground. "I thin' Pat 'r Maks set that up..." She trailed, motioning for him to join her. She leaned back slightly, sighing a bit. It wasn't in her usual content manner though. "S'rry I haven' been around lately..." She mumbled, taking another swig of her drink. The fact it was still over half full suddenly made her fairly glad, in case the other Android decided to join her in drinking as well.
Well, that wasn't too bad - a rope ladder. He could climb up that with little real effort. "I wouldn't put it past Pat - lazy bum," he laughed. Indeed, he did climb up the dangling rope. The sun was quite a lot closer to disappearing than it was a minute ago, when he first came out of the base. He found a place to sit on Crys-chan's left, crossing his legs with his wrists resting on his knees. "Hey, don't worry about not being around - we're just concerned, s'all." Nick hadn't really taken much notice of the drink, not that he typically drank anyway - especially after that one drink Vulcan offered him. He was throwing up for a good bit of the night after that one, but Vulcan insisted it was because he'd gulped most of it down right off the bat. He was probably right, too.
She nodded slightly in response, going quiet. The moon was visible overhead, a full, round blotch on an otherwise untainted sky. She stared at it for a moment before speaking again. "Y'know... y'weigh less when yer directly under the moon." She mumbled softly, eyes half closed. Smirking softly, the token female of the team took another drink, pointing it to Chargeman afterwards. "'ere, if you want some... jus' dun drink t'much at once." A chuckle followed the instructions, as memories of Nick's experience with Vulcan's drink of choice flooded back. Without waiting for a response, she started talking again. "S'tell me, Prote... why'd you decide to stick around, really? Me an' Tom-tom forced ya inta it... we coulda r'moved the armor though." She glanced at him again, looking serious.
He too looked up at the moon. She did have a point about that, whether the difference was notable or not. Nick could only think to wag his head up and down as a confirmation - at both her comment and the offer. He took a small sip. Wow, this didn't burn nearly as much as whatever the heck Jack had given him before. It still was rough going down, and he coughed slightly at the sensation. He passed the bottle back over to his female comrade. He didn't often think about his reasoning behind sticking with the rest of them. True, he could've easily gone back to his normal life and never so much as thought about them ever again. But then... that wouldn't really be him. "In all honesty, you guys grew on me in this brief time. And... without this armor, who am I? Nicholas Phaelin, slightly-above-average college drop-out? No thanks, I'm done with that lifestyle - being a super dude is interestin' enough anyway. What about you, though? S'not like you had to stick around either."
She placed the bottle between them, in case he wanted another go at the stuff. She'd just about met her limit anyway. Crys paused as he directed the question back to her. Why had she stuck around, anyway? She had no obligation to, after all. She didn't proclaim herself team leader... she could have up and left at any time. Right? Frowning, she looked skyward once again. Heaving a sigh, she finally found her answer. "I had nothing left." She nearly whispered, suddenly sounding, and feeling, incredibly sober. It wasn't often she spoke of her life before the team. "I don't have a family or... anything, really. Just an underground lab, Tommy, and... well, you guys." She smiled at Nick softly, but it was a sad one. "I'm wanted by the government, so I can't really go back to normal society..." She trailed.
"Wanted?" he almost spit out what bit of the drink he'd taken in. That was an unexpected turn of events, at least from his standpoint. "Wow... I'm sorry to hear that. Well, you know we're always around to back you up," he too trailed off. This kind of thing - comforting people - was so much easier when one was in a pretty good disposition, such as the earlier days of the team. Now, though? He didn't really know how to give advice anymore. Sure, he could still listen, that was one thing. Consoling a hurt friend was a different can of worms, though. He searched deep down for fitting words. "So, we're pretty much what you've got left going for you, huh... Doesn't seem like that's doing you any good, what with Jersey the way it is now. Hmm..." he sat silent for a moment. "Well, I promise you... we're better than any family you could have. What's better than dysfunctionality, anyway? You have a group of people here that care about you... Yanno, it is kinda weird to look at you guys like family more than a team, but really, that's what you've turned out to be for me." He smiled weakly for a moment. "But yeah... that's not always satisfying enough, I reckon." Taking another sip, he stared straight up at the sky as a few more stars peeked out.
Crys paused for a moment, thinking about what Nick had just said. Having long since lost the meaning of family, she found tears forming in her eyes at his confession. To be included in someone's family, faux or otherwise, hit her hard. But it wasn't a bad thing. Wiping her eyes on her grease stained sleeves, she looked at Stryker, and smiled. "I... thank you, Nick." She couldn't help but sniffle a little. After a moment of silence, she sighed softly. "I... I'm going to tell you something, that no one else but Tommy knows, and that's because he was there." She had no real reason to tell him this. He hadn't inquired about her past... but in that moment, she felt a bond with him not unlike the one she shared with her fellow scientist.
She was crying? Oh shit, what did he say wrong? He didn't mean to make her cry. Nick was starting to really feel bad for a moment, wondering if he'd really lost some touch with his emotions. Then he realized that she was actually happy - thank goodness. "Oh?" He was at a loss for words. He was touched that she actually wanted to tell him something so important to her past - a secret she seemed to keep for so long. He simply didn't want to interrupt her at the moment with some sentimental remark.
She took a deep breath, partly to prepare for the long speech ahead, and partly to keep herself composed. "My parents... were biomechanical engineers. They made a lot of contributions to helping mankind... that's how I acquired my knowledge of how to design them... or things like them, like the armors." She paused. "They didn't work for anyone in particular, though, and that made the government angry. The government was constantly threatening them, but nothing ever came of it. I met Tommy around that time... he was an aspiring mechanic, and helped his dad in the shop a lot... he helped me with some of my early stuff. Anyway... one day, the government followed up on their threats..." Her voice wavered at that point, and she bit her lip. "There was... a struggle. But in the end, they got my family, and nearly me. I escaped through a trap door in our hall." She looked at Nick again.
He never really could figure out in advance what she wanted to tell him. Her parents' fates was definitely not something that came to mind. He felt something tugging at the back of his chest, like his heart struggling not to break. "I never realized... I'm sorry that all had to happen to you... it's not something people so young need to experience. Just think... if you hadn't escaped... None of us would be here today. Your parents... they sounded like really great people." His thoughts were skipping all over the place in an effort to get out everything he wanted to express. "And the government would really go so low... but I guess from what we hear on the news and everything, that shouldn't be surprising." Nick tilted the bottle towards her, a look of true pity on his face. That shouldn't have to happen to anyone, and he knew that for certain.
She smiled weakly as he tilted the bottle to her, and accepted it gratefully, taking a drink of the substance, and then handing it back. She nodded a bit in response to his words of pity. "They were wonderful people... and both were very much so advocates for Robots being equal to humans..." She chuckled. "After that incident... I stayed with Tommy for a while... we raided my old home when the FBI or CIA or whatever wasn't watching it, and grabbed everything we could, and hightailed it out of there. Made our first Sentient Armor... it was stolen, though. After that, we eventually ended up here..." She smiled warmly at this point. Telling someone about all this was oddly... comforting. "I... I have hope they're still alive. That's what kept me going, before the Team..." She trailed again, seemingly deep in thought.
He knew the odds of that were very poor. The way she talked, they were for sure gone. Either way, hope was something well worth having. "Good point. After all, it wouldn't be unlike the feds to abduct scientists like that as opposed to killing them off. Have faith, I imagine they're alright as well." He thought to himself for a bit, before asking: "So, um... what was it like, anyway? I can't help but wonder..."
Crys chuckled softly at the inquiry. "Our ptototype... never had a human counterpart, so I don't know how well she would have worked. She was made for ranged combat. She had standard issue energy pistols, but the basic programming inputted in her would've allowed her to adapt to any form of gun. She was also made for reflex enhancement, and to make use of a jump module, which would let her be able to scale this building as if she were stepping over a curb." She grinned a bit, amused by the sudden nostalgia. "In any case... I honestly don't know if it would have worked... she was the prototype, after all."
"I have faith that it would have done good," he said quickly. Nick felt like he was learning more and more about her by the minute - and he really was. He never really spoke much about himself either, so he could understand why she would keep from telling stuff like that. "Prototype or not, it sounds like it would have worked out pretty well. Do you know how it was stolen?" He was genuinely curious, and didn't really notice if he was stepping over boundaries.
She was rather shocked at herself for revealing such information to him, but realized she didn't mind. There'd always been something about Nick that made him likable, and very easy to trust. That had been part of the reason she'd decided on him for the team, back when her and Tommy were going over potentials. "It was while Tommy and I were traveling... we were mugged by some down-and-out people. We'd stopped on the side of the road for a moment, they knocked Tommy and me out, and when we came to, the prototype armor, and most of the other stuff from our car, was gone." She frowned slightly. "I hope that, wherever it ended up, they didn't abuse that armor."
It then dawned on Nick how inquisitive he was being. Well, if she was telling him about it, he'd still try not to let him curiosity get the better of him. Sipping from the bottle again, he tried to think of how to reply. "Maybe not. A lot could've happened to it. If I had to guess, the government probably gave them a helping hand in exchange for the armor. I hate that most of your stuff was taken then. It'd be nice to be able to track them down and figure out what happened, yanno?" He was a lot more relaxed now that he'd found her at least. And now that he was talking to her, he was able to lay on his back and simply chill out. For the first time in quite a little while he was calm and not really worried.
The scientist nodded, smiling a bit. Mimicking him, she laid on her back, staring up at the now inky sky. "Mmhmm." She responded. She was silent for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. She soon spoke up again, though. "Hey Nick.... if events ever come to pass in which I leave the team..." She trailed, and turned her head to look at him. "Would you come with me?" She watched his reaction apprehensively.
To say that also was an unexpected remark would be an understatement. He didn't want to think about anyone leaving the team. That would never sit well with him, the thought of the whole team they'd work'd so hard to maintain and keep alive suddenly falling apart. But he did know how to answer that for certain. "Crys-chan... if you ever do leave... you're my closest friend here. If and when you do leave, I'd be sure to go with you," he replied with a warm smile. Really, he wouldn't much want to stay on if she left.
She seemed relieved at his reaction, and relaxed, redirected her attention to the stars. "The same goes for you, Prote... if you ever leave, I'll follow you." She paused for a moment, before grinning. "But let's hold off on that leaving thing for as long as possible. We've already lost Pat... I don't particularly feel like adding any more abandonment anytime soon." Despite the depressing subject, she stayed cheery. She was comfortable there, nestled on the roof with good company and a good drink.
Little to the aid of the moment, the drink was trying to take over, but he was doing the best he could to stay sober. No more of that stuff for him, that was for sure. "Right, I really hope things don't come down to that any time soon. After him leaving... I just don't think the others would handle extra losses too well. But... I gotta thank yeh... It means alot that you'd want to follow me outta here." He shook his head a little bit, trying to get the drunk slurring to go away. "You know, this drink you've got here is some stuff. We'll have to remember this one for when we do quit the team." He laughed a bit to himself over the whole situation. "I really am glad we got to talk, Crys-chan. You'll just have to hear my story some day."
Whether or not he'd get that chance, he did not know yet. Hope's all he could have.
--------------------
"S'been a helluva ride, eh?"Cossack greeted me with a smile as he sipped away at his morning coffee, Kalinka staring a skeptic's daggars as she slaved away at preparing breakfast for her father. We were in the central building of Tech City where the faction had secured the doctor. The Comrades were fixed from the Mesmer rigamarole and had recently taken off to do some reconstruction work at the ruins of the old Citadel. It doesn't shock me that the whole thing with Mesmer happened. Drill was acting weird back at Elysium, but the rest of the team? I gotta admit, that part was pretty surprising. That evil energy is some nasty shit.
"So Jack, what brings you here? Did Crorq send you to keep an eye on me?"
I chuckled a bit and put the toothpick I was chewing at behind my ear.
"Nah, just paying a visit. Crorq ain't got no authority over me... I quit."
"You quit, eh?" He asked with a skeptical look.
"Righto, Doc. I knew what I was getting myself into... I did some good and I did some bad, but it just ain't my style."
"Nope, you're the kind of guy who prefers to live life the way you see it."
"Ya think so? It's been a year... I was hopin' that I would've changed sumwhat."
"I wouldn't say that... you look rather well. We never said much, but you were pretty burnt out last time I saw you."
Again chewing at my toothpick, refraining from smoking a cigarette in the presence of the young lady, I muttered a few words which I can no longer recall. The purpose and message made its way across, though. It was true... up until recently, I was a shell of a man. For two years I lingered. The first year, at age 32, I arrived at the doctor's doorstep for the first time. Though he was weary about me at first, he eventually warmed up and we became friends. He reminds me so much of Keith...
Kalinka walked over to the table that the doctor was sitting at. I stood with my back to the wall. It has always been easier for me to think when standing. She sat the plate in front of him before kissing him on the cheek, walking off to clean up the mess she made. She took a moment to stare more knives at me as she passed me by, this time following it up with a warm smile, pleased that my company brought a smile to her father's worn face. I glanced back at her with a grin.
"So, Jack... what are you planning to do now that the war is over?"
"It ain't much as far as surprises go. Y'see Doc, after Shiken got his armor, I gave him a piece of my mind and he told me that Crys built it for him at the old base. The war's been rough on the outskirts of Monstropolis, so I reckon that my amigos are still hiding out there. I ran into an old friend the other day... if I restart the team, there's no doubt that he's gonna join. Maks dying is pretty heavy, but things are looking up, y'know? I ain't gonna let him get me down. Ever since he mentioned how he got that armor, I was... for the first time in a long time, excitement was shaking me. Together, we were gonna rebuild the team. We would find Crys and Stryker, and tomorrow would be yesterday. With or without him, though... I'm gonna find them. I've got a good feeling about this, so I ain't lettin' go."
"Haha, that's all well and good, but I must say, it sounds more like you want to find Crys than anything."
"Well, yeah... I always did miss her, but it's been naggin' at me ever since I got into that brawl with Kuri."
"About that, the last time you spoke of the little genius, you mentioned her being rather deperessed."
I sighed and took a gander at Kalinka's butt as she bent over. "Well... Maks didn't speak much about her mood. I can only assume that things are going alright. Stryker's been hanging around with her since the team went belly up, so I'm sure that he's been a real help."
"Well now... she's been spending her time with another man? I'd feel threatened if I were you."
A smirk and a tsk, both of which I gave, did not change a thing. Obivously, this had crossed my mind... I doubt it happened, but it still bothered me. "Heh... I'm willing to bet that was the first joke you've made all war..." I said this as a witty retort, but my mood changed and I shot a sentance that was contradictory to my joking manner.
"Y'know Doc... I'm glad you're alive. When news hit us that the Citadel was blown up, it was like somebody stabbed me in the chest... I owe my life to you. Never mentioned it, but... you remind me a lot of my uncle. He raised me ever since my parents died... he was a father to me, and when he died... my heart sank. I lived my life trying to be like him, and runing into you... a guy who gave me another shot at life, it was like I rediscovered a part of me that was missing. Then it happened again... I don't talk about my emotions much, but... I owe you. I shoulda stuck by your side that day, instead of running off to join the RPD."
Cossack had stopped eating his breakfast and was looking up at me. "Jack... you're a good man. I didn't stop Thomas from going into hiding, and I never stopped you from joining the RPD. I didn't agree with your decision, but you're a human being. Trust me, you'll always be family."
I cracked the toothpick in my mouth, and I looked at the doctor like any man would his father.
"It's great to be home, Dad..."
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Adam Kaufman adjusted his white lab coat as he strolled down the hall, carrying a manila folder filled with schematics. Ever since Elysium and Desert Gulch fell, RPD HQ was abuzz with what to do with the captured Ascendant Androids. Although they were either destroyed at Elysium and/or shutdown by Cutman, they quickly turned into one of RPD’s biggest headaches. Debates instantly flared up as to whether they should be rebuilt to rejoin society, or lock their heads away, never to see the light of day. In fact, Kauffman could hear some of RPD’s finest carrying on in the cafeteria as he rounded the corner.“They’re monsters! And that’s all they’ll ever be!”
“Yeah, I don’t want to see their mugs in Hardman’s bar,”
“It sucks, but we’re supposed to hold them. Rules are rules,”
“You kidding? Did you see what they did to Berlin?”
“The Seven Mercenaries and Magnetman came around. Maybe they can too,“
“Do they even want to?! Those guys were nuts about Elysium!”
But researcher Adam Kaufman had an answer. It was painfully obvious when he thought about it, and well within RPD’s powers. He just hoped the infamous, vile chief of RPD would see eye-to-eye as he opened the chief’s door.
“This’d better be good!” Crorq complained, spewing half-chewed sandwich like a fountain. Kaufman tried his best not to look directly at it.
“About the Ascendant Androids-“
“Let them rot! Those infidels made their decision, and it was the wrong one! Why do people insist on discussing this when it’s already been decided!” Crorq screamed, spitting more chunks of his sandwich.
“We’re sitting on-“ Crorq raised a spindly hand as Ganderhem entered the room, a grim look on his face.
“Is Captain Napalmman being tossed in his cell as we speak?” Crorq asked. Sighing, Ganderhem shook his head.
“…We’ve checked Skull Fortress, and there’s no sign of him,” Ganderhem meekly reported. Crorq practically leapt out of his chair, his arms raised with fury.
“What?! Infidel!! That monster should either be dead or shutdown by now! How hard is it to track down a corpse?!”
“…Wily must’ve taken his remains as he fled. There’s no other explanation!” Ganderhem offered. Crorq growled as he angrily hurled the sub he was about to put in his mouth at the tiny robot.
“Excuses!! How’d you lose him in the first place?! I don’t care if you have to raise Atlantis, bring him here!! Now!!” Crorq shrieked. Ganderhem simply nodded and quietly backed out of the room. As quietly as he could, Kaufman cleared his throat and stepped forward, pulling schematics out of the folder he was carrying.
“Actually sir, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. I fear we’ve lost a little bit of our…bite now that we’ve lost the Shutdown Code,” Kaufman explained. Crorq growled again as he whipped out another sub.
“I don’t fear that…I know that!” Crorq groused. “What’s your point?!” he added, somewhat accusingly.
“For your, uh, humble consideration,” Kaufman replied, getting to the point as he set Crystalgirl’s and Gyroman’s schematics down on Crorq’s sloppy desk. The grotesque chief’s eyes went wide.
“I can’t think of a better use for them. We all know what they’re capable of, what our Special Forces could be capable of. In fact, now that Cutman’s forces are shutdown, their minds are a clean slate; we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Kaufman urged. The look of shock on Crorq’s blue screen was quickly replaced with intrigue. What commander wouldn’t want a subordinate who could control gravity, water, or the very earth they stood on?
“With a little nurturing and guidance, they could prove to be RPD’s most reliable soldiers. When was the last time we could call the Mechanical Maniacs, Drastic Measures, those loser loners, or the Special Forces truly reliable?” Kaufman finished, wincing as he mentioned the Special Forces. For robots based off Gamma armors, they faced more humiliating losses than they should’ve. In many ways, Kaufman saw them as cheap caricatures of themselves.
Crorq, however perked up like a child who just found out he was going to Disneyworld. The revolting chief took an enthusiastic step forward, nearly toppling his desk and spilling a bucket of greasy chicken on the floor.
“Make it so!” Crorq barked. Kaufman smiled as Crorq scooped the spilled drumsticks and messily flung them into his gaping mouth.
“Their first assignment is to track down their former leader and bring that monster to justice!” Crorq ordered as he tore the skin off of a hair-covered drumstick. Kaufman didn’t mind as his jacket got spattered with chicken skin and spittle.
“I’ll get to work right away,” Kaufman finished, already heading out the room.
“Good! Because you’re behind schedule! Sycophant!” Crorq scolded as the door slammed shut. Kaufman simply ignored the grotesque behemoth, lost in his euphoric joy. Finally, something had gone right in the halls of RPD HQ, which meant he could bring some sense and order in his life! Once he was back in his lab, Kaufman put his joy out of his mind and pulled out a cellphone.
“This better be good,” a sly, male voice at the either end responded.
“Do you understand your mission?” Kaufman asked, somewhat urgently.
“As mud,” the man casually replied. “You really don’t care if he’s in one piece?”
Kaufman shrugged. “As long as there’s enough of him for me to rebuild,” he answered. “And I don’t want to hear any more talk about your pay,”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s your best offer. Or so you say,” the man groused. “Look, we got to go. We just reached the party. Don’t you worry, we ain’t gonna let you down.” The man assured just before hanging up. Kaufman smiled as he tucked the cellphone back into his pocket and hunched over Stoneman’s remains. There was still a lot of work to do, but things were finally coming together again. When it was all said and done, his life would be changed for the better, and so would the world.
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