Chapter Fourteen: The Invisible Men Vulcan’s swordplay had improved greatly over the past few weeks, but that just meant the difficulties of training were getting greater. His saber exploded into that of the training droid’s in a flare of conflicting energies before Vulcan broke contact and dashed backwards. The droid raised its sword and charged in Vulcan’s direction, swinging its weapon down at the Hunter’s shoulder. Vulcan feinted to the right, and counterattacked with a quick slash that drove the droid back a few steps, but didn’t defeat it. It came at Vulcan again, and the Hunter met its sword with his own. Vulcan slashed low and the machine blocked it, but it was able to anticipate Vulcan’s next slash and countered that as well, extending one of its limbs into Vulcan’s stomach, winding the Hunter. The next slash flashed towards the Hunter’s chest. He tried to twist away, and the slash took him on the arm, sending a powerful jolt through him. The droid’s stun blade wouldn’t do any serious damage, but had the battle been real Vulcan might well have been missing an arm. He cursed himself for his carelessness and sprung back at the droid. He hacked furiously, and try as the droid might, it could not counter each and every blow. Vulcan brought his sword down at the droid’s shoulder and raised his knee to counter another attack on his stomach. His knee slammed into the droid’s abdomen and the saber sheared off the droid’s sword arm. Another slash took the droid’s head off, and its saber clattered to the ground. Vulcan deactivated his own saber and took a few deep breaths. Archer had been right when he’d said that Vulcan would get stronger droids to combat. During a normal training session with the rest of his unit, Vulcan would generally have no trouble taking on several droids like this at once. The fact that he’d been hit didn’t settle well with him, especially since he was fighting just one enemy. He was the only one in the training room now, as it was late and there was no unit scheduled to use the training room at this time. He was practicing on his own. Normally Rykov would be doing the same, but he had decided to go to sleep early tonight, claiming that it had been too long of a week. Indeed, since the quarry mission, people had been getting a lot less sleep… Most Maverick Hunter Units were composed of a combination of rookies and veterans, not just all of one kind. Since there were no “rookie units”, Vulcan had a few fairly powerful Hunters in his squad, in addition to the promising new recruits. He himself had been hailed by all members of his unit and most of the other Hunters for killing Sigma, even though he insisted that he didn’t deserve the credit. It struck him as insane that he didn’t take credit, since no one would know otherwise. He could easily have achieved the fame that Hunters like Harrier would have done anything for, but it would have been a hollow victory on his part. He’d know forever that he was taking credit for something he didn’t do, and besides, once he claimed something like that for himself, all the real sniper needed to do was step forward to not only unseat Vulcan from his place of prestige, but shame him from that point on. It was much easier to let people just think he was the one who’d killed Sigma, and try to play it down. That got him plenty of respect in its own way, and he didn’t run any of the risks that came with taking blame. Besides, he’d just been nearly defeated by a training droid. How could someone think he’d defeat Sigma while putting on a performance like this that was just so… “Pathetic.” Vulcan, not liking it when other people completed his thoughts, turned slowly to face a tall Reploid in heavy black armor, wearing an equally dark visor over a sneering face. Vulcan growled, wishing he’d not picked tonight of all nights to screw up in battle. “Just pathetic,” the Reploid continued, shaking his head. “You expect people to think that a loser like you could defeat Sigma? You’re more of a fool than I thought, and that’s pretty bad.” “I’ll kindly remind you, Nightchaser,” Vulcan said, allowing himself his own little sneer, “I beat you soundly in the weapons match.” Nightchaser laughed with full malice. “You consider that a fight? It was a one-hit kill free for all. You want a real fight?” “You honestly think I’m that desperate for a pastime?” Vulcan glared at his rival. Harrier had been cocky as hell, and far too overconfident to be an effective friend, leader, or soldier, but he had not been mean spirited really at all. Nightchaser, or Chase, was much different. He had always had something against Vulcan, and since he slightly outranked the silver Hunter, he’d always tried to do whatever he could to make his underling’s life miserable. After Vulcan defeated Chase in the Olympiad’s weapons match, however, the tables had turned and Chase had stayed away from Vulcan for a bit, and after the quarry mission Vulcan had figured he more than outranked Nightchaser, but his old rival didn’t seem to think so, and was determined to spoil as much of Vulcan’s fame as he could. “What else are you gonna do?” Chase tilted his head to one side and made a disgustingly sweet face. “Go visit your girlfriend again? It’s been over an hour since your last visit! She must be going through withdrawal.” A jillion ways to inform Nightchaser that Krysta was in no way his “girlfriend” passed through Vulcan’s head, but he quickly decided that the flip side of the coin would be far more fun to play in this scenario. “Ohh, I see…you’re jealous as hell, aren’t you.” Chase’s head snapped back. He’d clearly expected Vulcan to be a bit more defensive than that. “W-what are you talking about? Jealous of YOU?” Vulcan laughed lightly. “You know, all this time I thought you were an ass hole, plain and simple. I had no idea that you were just jealous. Talk about a letdown…” Nightchaser’s eyes burned with hatred behind his visor. “You’ve got nothing on me, rookie.” “Rookie? I’m hardly that, I think. I passed you by a long time ago, too.” “I could rip you apart any day.” Vulcan rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’d rather not waste my time…” The hard handle of a training stunsaber cracked into Vulcan’s helmet, sending a ringing through his ears. The silver Hunter glared daggers and whisked the saber off the ground, igniting the flickering blue blade and meeting Chase’s gaze, even though he could not see his eyes. “But, if you insist…” Chase laughed and activated his own stunsaber, reducing the charge to as low as possible. Vulcan did the same and then the two rivals hurled themselves at each other. Chase struck rapidly and ferociously, but Vulcan’s lighter armor gave him the superiority of speed. Silver countered black with ease, but offered no attack of his own. Finally, Chase pulled away a little, and came at Vulcan again with a wide horizontal swipe. Vulcan swung his saber in the exact same motion, smashing it into Chase’s in mid flight and while the shock of the unexpected impact startled Chase, Vulcan dashed forward and slammed his saber into his rival’s midsection. Nightchaser doubled over, but the low setting on their weapons meant that he was hardly defeated. He glared furiously and spat in Vulcan’s direction. “You think getting lucky once means anything? Let’s see what you can really do!” “As you wish,” Vulcan accepted, racing towards Chase and launching his own string of attacks. High, low, high, left, low, right, Chase countered them all, much to Vulcan’s surprise, and just when the silver one was going to enter a more complex series of strikes, Nightchaser attacked with a full body rush, driving Vulcan back and sending him staggering for a few steps. Chase took the opportunity to dart up and thrust his saber like a lance into Vulcan’s chest. The tip of the sword flared and Vulcan flew back into a heap on the floor. He quickly collected himself, feeling the effects of the stun blade coming on, but he shook them off to the best of his ability. Chase was laughing. “What a novice mistake. Can’t you do any better than that?” Vulcan just stared icily. “To use your words, just because you got lucky once doesn’t mean anything.” Chase stopped laughing, though he still snickered a bit, and waved Vulcan on. The silver Hunter charged, sword arm extended to the side as though preparing for a wide horizontal slice. Chase prepared for that and swung his sword in a counterattack when Vulcan got close enough, but Vulcan leapt back at the last minute and Chase swung at thin air. Furious at being tricked, Chase looked for his next opportunity, but Vulcan wasn’t making it easy. He leapt in to one side and pretended to swing, but then pulled away at the last minute. Nightchaser swung at thin air a number of times, adding to his rage, and even worse, Vulcan sometimes did swing and clipped the black Hunter when he couldn’t turn to counter in time. He was definitely outmatched in the speed department, he knew. He charged in Vulcan’s direction, determined to stop his attack pattern, but Vulcan easily darted away, coming back in with a very rapid series of slashes. Lots hit, but Chase was able to deflect some. His saber swings became more powerful and as he channeled his rage, Nightchaser was able to unload a full barrage of powerful attacks on Vulcan. The bright flash of conflicting sabers and the sizzling clang they emitted filled the training room over and over as the two swordsmen relentlessly attacked and counterattacked, both getting tired fast. Finally, Vulcan dropped to the ground and swept his legs out towards Nightchaser’s knees, but his rival anticipated this and dropped his sword down. It landed harmlessly if not awkwardly between Vulcan’s legs, and the silver Hunter spun around and up, his legs in the lead, kicking Chase repeatedly and whipping his saber up across the black Hunter’s chest. Shocked, Chase collapsed to his knees. He wasn’t totally stunned, but he was still having trouble shaking it off. Then he felt the foreboding warmth of Vulcan’s saber near his face and he stopped struggling. Seething gloriously, he glared up at Vulcan’s static face. “Ready to give it up?” Vulcan asked in an even tone. Chase grumbled something unintelligible and Vulcan narrowed his eyes and retracted his blade. Almost immediately Chase’s sword flung out at him. He should have expected it, he knew, and he thought he had, but obviously not well enough, because when he countered with his own weapon it was awkward and it shook his concentration enough for Chase to explode up from the ground and crash bodily into Vulcan, sending him flying across the room. Nightchaser covered the distance between the two easily and smashed his weapon down into Vulcan’s chest, with the blade set to full stun. For a while Vulcan couldn’t believe the audacity of Chase’s cheap attack and his switching of the power level of his weapon. The man had clearly been defeated and all he had left was his own ego to protect, and he’d cheated his way into this fake victory. “Who’s laughing now, great hero?” Nightchaser was indeed laughing quite a bit, much to Vulcan’s disgust. “Man who defeated Sigma, my ass.” “I’d sooner believe he defeated Sigma than I’d believe you defeated a single battle drone on any rank higher than ‘fledgling’.” Both Chase and Vulcan, who was recovering from the stun fast enough, turned to face the owner of the new voice. He was a medium sized stocky human wearing the thick blue vestments of the Hunter’s air force, complete with the golden wing epaulets on both of his broad shoulders and black, gold-rimmed boots on his feet. Thick brown hair covered his head and his eyes were very gray, though there were blue flecks here and there. The Hunters had an infantry, of course, and had a single unit assigned to naval missions, but they also commanded a fairly decent air force. Mostly led by their flyer Reploids, the air force also allowed for small, single-seater combat jets. They were piloted mostly by humans, and were equipped with all sorts of weaponry. Vulcan had never seen this man before, but apparently Nightchaser had. “Keep your nose out of this, Alec. This isn’t your fight.” Alec looked reprehensively at the Reploid, who although was much taller than he was, still didn’t seem to intimidate the human much at all. “You used a dirty goddamn trick, and you call that a victory? Shit, Chase, you’re a real loser.” “I said,” Chase growled, turning away from Vulcan and staring hard at Alec, “this ain’t your fight. I won here, see? You can yap about it as much as you want, but…” He smiled coldly, glancing back at Vulcan and continuing as mockingly as possible. “This boy just wasn’t good enough.” Before anyone could say anything else, Chase tossed his stunsaber at Vulcan, letting it ricochet off the silver Hunter’s helmet again, and strode off out the door, looking mighty proud of himself. “What an ass…” Alec grumped, turning and extending a hand to Vulcan. “You all right?” Vulcan nodded and accepted the man’s hand, careful not to pull him down, since Reploids were very heavy, but to his surprise Alec had no trouble staying upright. Once on his feet he stared where Nightchaser had left, frowning gloriously. “Has he always been like that?” “As long as I’ve known him,” Alec said with a shrug. “I’ve been here for five or so years, and he’s been around for two of them. I don’t think the guy has a single friend, save for the losers who stalk around at night like this is their goddamn playground.” The human switched the expression on his face from disgust to interest. “So! I hear you’re the man who took Sigma’s head off. Bloody awesome job.” “Not really,” Vulcan replied, warily. “I didn’t take that shot, but everyone’s convinced that I did.” “Modest, eh?” Alec shrugged. “Well whether you did it or not, it’s gotten you quite a lot of respect around this place. Don’t take that clown seriously about anything.” Vulcan snorted. “I’ll take a bath in hot acid before I take Nightchaser seriously.” “Good, then.” Alec picked up one of the training sabers and twirled it in between his fingers. “I think there’s a guy named Kyre in your unit, that right?” Vulcan nodded. “You know him?” Alec nodded. “Kyre and I go way back. Not really great friends or anything, but he’s always got some crazy ass story to tell whenever we hit a bar. You know how he’s holding up?” “He’s gonna make it, they say. Only question is how long it’ll take for his systems to repair themselves. Nanobots can only work so fast, y’know.” “Tell me about it…it’s a lot worse bein’ a human. All you got going for you is an immune system, and mine’s for shit.” “You have some kind of disease?” “Naw, my immune system just sucks naturally.” Alec grinned, extending his hand for a different reason. “Alec Tremont. I’m in the air force, but that’s a big duh.” “Vulcan,” he replied, returning the handshake, “Unit 5, infantry. But there’s another big duh.” “Agreed,” Alec said with a chuckle. “What kind of stuff do you specialize in?” He shrugged. “Swordplay, distance rifles, guns in general.” “Christ, man, you got it made. All I do is fly planes and shoot missiles.” “’All’ you do? Seems like fun to me.” “It is, until there’s nothing to shoot at anymore. Flying itself is a blast, I think, especially those jets we have.” “You use the Ravens?” Vulcan asked hopefully. He knew of a few of the Hunter jet styles and the sleek Raven class was probably their fastest bird. “What else?” Alec replied with a grin. “Those sunzabitches can zoom! Don’t have very many, though. Hell, we don’t have very many planes in general. Most of the sky support comes from the Megacity Army, which I think is stupid, y’know? Why not just give us all the support we need? Why divide it up?” Vulcan laughed. “I don’t think we’ll ever learn for sure how a politician thinks, Alec. Frankly I’m just fine with not knowing.” “Agreed,” Alec said, and stifled a yawn. “Well, nice meeting ya, Vulcan. Maybe I’ll see you around again, and we can figure out a way to stuff dynamite into Chase’s undies or something.” Vulcan laughed harder. “I’d rather not go near those, but I’m sure we could figure something else out. Take care.” The division of the Hunters that was devoted to espionage and data analysis was generally unseen by most of the other people in Hunter Headquarters. The same held true for the spies and analysts themselves, earning them the nickname “The Invisible Men”. They spent most of their time poring over information gathered by their various sources and determining whether or not there was a threat. Their job was not coveted, nor were they paid extremely well, but they weren’t forced to fight when needed, and for most of them it was more fun to spy anyway. Caligula, the Chief Spook, had pushed Signas and Dr. Cain to declare a Red Climate, or a period of increased awareness in anticipation of a Maverick attack in response to Sigma’s assassination. A little over a week had passed, and Caligula was not yet convinced that the Maverick infrastructure had fallen apart. The Invisible Men were determined to spot any Maverick plot before it became a problem. It started with a report the previous night by Blackstar 5041 that stated it would stop longer than usual at the depot outside Steel Alley, an area that was known for its sympathy with the Mavericks because of its blasted Engineer Corps. This had been treated as minor news until another analyst went over it and decided to follow up on it, noting that most trains just passed right into Steel Alley. What he learned was that the depot outside Steel Alley was run by a Reploid named Cartwright who also managed the train station inside Steel Alley, and that he actually never had any train stop at that depot unless there was something obviously wrong with it. Noting that there was no report of anything being wrong with Blackstar 5041, the analyst thought this was a little odd. He would never have thought this, though, if he had not coincidentally been involved with a past investigation into Cartwright. During the Second War, Cartwright had been accused of smuggling goods to the X-Hunters, who without those goods would have been unable to complete a lot of their more destructive war machines. Cartwright had vehemently denied the charges and the whole of Steel Alley rose to defend him. The analyst working on the case now had looked into Cartwright’s past when just an apprentice to a more capable spook. The older spy had done most of the work, but the analyst had picked up some information nonetheless that more or less confirmed Cartwright’s guilt. The problem was, it was the sort of information that would both compromise an important source and probably fail to hold up in any kind of court, so it had been deemed useless to try and indict Cartwright for this smuggling act, though he was placed under closer scrutiny for some time. Knowing that Cartwright was a smuggler and that he was stopping a train at a depot he never really used set off a mild alarm bell in the analyst’s head, and he set the information aside in case he came across some more proof. It came in the form of a scout report from one of the Hunter spies in Steel Alley that stated that a frog Reploid bearing a tattered Maverick crest was seen recently in the area. The spy followed the frog and observed it entering Cartwright’s station. Now, there were plenty of retired Hunters and/or Mavericks working Steel Alley with their crests still worn, and people took it as a sign that people were proud of their pasts. However, knowing that Cartwright might possibly be smuggling something tomorrow night, when Blackstar 5041 was scheduled to delay in the depot, and then knowing Cartwright met with a frog Maverick seemed to say something. The analyst turned over his suspicions to his superiors, and they climbed up the ladder of rank at lightning speed. Caligula moved in his usual way, striding down the halls with an air of indifference, the bottom his ever-present trench coat trailing behind him over the floor. The coat was a bit too big for the short Reploid, but Caligula refused to get rid of it. He’d had some of his best brainstorms wearing this coat, and even though the master spook was not very keen on superstition, he’d still be damned if he ever threw this garment away. The leader of the Invisible Men stifled a yawn as he neared his office. He was sick of all the late nights, but then, he was the one who’d pushed for a Red Climate in the first place… As he passed through his office door he didn’t bother to stifle the next yawn, and so was delayed in acknowledging the other man in the room. Already seated in a chair across from Caligula’s desk was a tall, shrewd looking human. He wore glasses with rather small lenses, and had a head full of untidy white hair. Caligula had originally figured him for another computer nerd who’d work with their mainframes, but Kevin Seitz had proven his boss wrong on both counts. Seitz was far more outgoing than Caligula would have ever guessed, and he proved quite useless with computers. He was instead the best analyst Caligula had ever come across, and currently the head spy was grooming Seitz to replace him when the time came, though the human didn’t know that. “How goes life, boss?” Seitz asked easily as Caligula hung up his coat and took a seat behind his large, cluttered desk. “Sucks,” Caligula answered simply, digging through the mound of papers on his desk in search of the file he had called Seitz in to discuss. “I got more than I bargained for with the Red Climate, as usual.” “People calling in to report suspicious characters on their streets,” Seitz began lazily, “and the suspicious characters turn out to be poodles. People call in to report strange noises coming from a nearby building. We investigate and find a radio with its volume set too high.” “Pretty much,” Caligula agreed. “People don’t pay any attention to the dangers going on around them, and when we do alert them, they still ignore the danger around them and freak out about everyday things. Maybe we should just keep them guessing from now on…” “Come on,” Seitz said with a chuckle. “That’s cold. People deserve to know if a Maverick is planning to disembowel their entire family.” “Don’t be silly,” Caligula argued back, pointing to an article in one of the old newspapers that cluttered his desk. “Most humans don’t need a Maverick to disembowel their family. They can do it well enough alone.” “Ah, there it is, the Black Humor of Caligula.” “Secret to my success, Kevin,” the Reploid said with a grin as he finally unearthed the file he was looking for and handed it to his protégé. Seitz read it quickly, and then reread it twice before looking back up at Caligula, already coming up with the same solutions his boss had. “Something interesting actually came out of the Red Climate, eh?” “We’re not sure,” Caligula shrugged. “But we do think it’s worth looking into.” “Mm…” Seitz read the file yet again and set it back on Caligula’s desk. “So basically there’s this smuggler in Steel Alley who may or may not be planning to smuggle something for the Mavericks tomorrow night. I agree, we should probably look into it, but how?” “Well, you know we’ve got men down in Steel Alley.” “Of course, but this depot where the train is supposed to stop…it’s got a wide area around it. How are we gonna cover it all without alerting the Mavericks? I do assume you want the Mavericks to appear, right?” Caligula nodded. “The information pulled from the Maverick bodies at the quarry didn’t reveal much useful information. Apparently the troops aren’t being told much…if we can catch a Maverick alive we’d be in great shape.” “Still,” Seitz said, rubbing his chin in thought, “that’s a big area, and you can’t teleport very close to it. Meaning, yes, the Mavericks will have to appear a certain distance away, but we can’t tell where. Unless…” “Go on,” Caligula urged. “Unless you have a way to plant someone at the depot and just wait for the Mavericks, but that’s risky for both the mission and the agent. If the people at the depot think something’s up they’ll alert the Mavericks and it’ll be over. On the flip side, if the Mavericks do come, and there’s a lot of them, what’s the agent to do?” “Call for help,” Caligula said simply. “We’ll have a team standing by if anything happens. Unlike the Mavericks, we can afford to run through Steel Alley without hiding ourselves, and if the Mavericks are already at the depot, where are they gonna go, even if someone alerts them?” Seitz thought for a minute and nodded. “Overly simple. I figured you had something more complicated in mind.” Caligula barked out a short laugh. “In some things, old ways work best.” “I see…” Seitz leaned back in his chair and relaxed a little. Normally no one would dare do that in the office of a department chief, but Caligula was well known for his lax attitude toward proper behavior. “Any word on the inner circle yet?” Caligula shook his head slowly. “I only wish…with Sigma dead we have to assume there’s some kind of interim leadership, especially if they’re still carrying on missions. We know Bit and Byte and probably Cyber Peacock are among their ranks, so they could well be in charge, though none of them save Peacock has ever shown much leadership ability. There were two Mavericks in the quarry who seemed to be giving orders, and Zero found another one who he apparently knew somehow. Those are our suspects but we really don’t know anything about them.” Seitz frowned. “Any word on Grizzly Slash? I bet he could fill in a lot of holes…” “Heh…” Caligula leaned back in his own chair, stretching luxuriously. “For a guy his size, he sure can hide away real well. We have absolutely no idea where he is.” “Well,” Seitz said reasonably, “bears gotta hibernate sometime, y’know? And if he really lived through all four wars, he’s got a pretty good cave somewhere. Can’t really hope for much as far as finding him, I guess. How about the murder investigations?” “Hmph…Zero didn’t have much to say at all, which is odd considering he got pretty toasted in the slums. Delates, one of Zero’s boys, missed most of the action while tracking an enemy sniper, but he said Zero looked like he’d seen quite a few ghosts when he found him.” “Hmm…” Seitz frowned even more. “So, Zero could probably fill in a lot of holes, too…” “Maybe, maybe not.” Caligula shrugged. “That guy’s got a terribly large list of secrets, I think. I’m not sure I want to know half of it…anyway, he’s not talking, and he’s the one person I’m not gonna harass.” Seitz nodded. “So, has anything else come up that doesn’t involve poodles or radios?” “Got a guy who was very convinced that a fire hydrant was Split Mushroom,” Caligula said with a grin, “but not much else.” “All right, then. One lead out of two weeks…what a drag. Who you gonna send after the Mavericks, if they come?” “Commander Zegmann’s unit is itching for some action,” Caligula said from memory, “but I really don’t know. That’s up to Signas and Cain. I suppose X and Zero will be standing by, but I don’t know how this’ll all play out. We may have an easy apprehension of a few Mavericks, or we may have a full blown train battle.” Caligula rested his chin in his hands and frowned. “We’ll have to wait and see. I hate waiting.” Seitz nodded agreement while forcing himself not to yawn. “Got the time?” “Yeah, it’s Too Late.” Caligula stared apprehensively at the clutter on his desk, knowing he should be working on them but not caring. “Hell, I’m done for the night. You too, unless you plan on flirting with the night secretaries again.” “You need to tag along next time,” Seitz laughed. “I can just see it…Chief Spook Caligula, ladies man extraordinaire.” “Don’t make me throw this at you,” Seitz’s boss threatened as stood, motioning to the newspaper he was rolling up to take back to his quarters. “Come on, man,” Seitz said as he got to his feet. “Haven’t you ever seen one of them old Bond flicks? Spies get the girls.” “Ever notice how the girls always vanish before the next movie?” Caligula asked in a rational tone as he draped his coat over his shoulders. “I don’t need a Gary Condit nightmare at the moment, thank you.” “Man,” Seitz shook his head while laughing, following his boss out of the office. “That happened so long ago it’s not even funny.” “So?” Caligula shrugged as he locked his office. “The press’d still dig it up.” He snorted a laugh and started for his quarters. “They’re far better spies than I’ll ever be.”