Chapter Eighteen: Old Wounds When Commander Sigma of the Maverick Hunters betrayed his allies and became the leader of the enemy army, he took all eight members of his elite team with him aboard Death Rogumer, the huge airship belonging to Storm Eagle. As they left Maverick Hunter Headquarters behind them, they deployed a squadron of their Mechaniloid drone forces to slow down the Hunters pursuing their ship. On the way they also used Death Rogumer’s cannons to raze several city sectors before Mega Man X finally caught them on the Megacity highways. One area Sigma’s first army flattened was the Chancellor District, a middle to high class neighborhood with fairly large homes, apartments, and other buildings. While the remaining inhabitants were evacuated, the majority of the buildings remained intact. Two weeks after Sigma’s War officially began, the Chancellor District was already a ghost town, and neither army paid it much attention. The remaining Hunters, who were scrambling to defeat Sigma’s eight vassals and find the enemy fortress, didn’t think any Mavericks would bother to inhabit the shaky Chancellor District. The Mavericks, who were too busy worrying about their own survival, could care less about a deserted cluster of building, at least for the moment. That was why it was the perfect road if you wanted to arrive in Light’s Point without being noticed. Light’s Point, a small, peaceful wharf named after the famous scientist of earlier times, was where you could find private vessels to head out to the chain of rivers flowing through the Catskills, and eventually to the open sea. It had been virtually untouched in these first few weeks of Sigma’s ambitious campaign, even though it was dangerously close to the larger bay where Launch Octopus was rumored to be setting up shop. It was easy to sneak away from Megacity 5 quietly by passing through Light’s Point, and so it was a nice place for fugitives. But to get there, you either had to travel down the main Megacity Highway, which was quite ruined and under heavy guard, or pass through a sub district. And, of course, the best choice of a sub district for fugitives who would rather not be seen was through the Chancellor District. The shortest path between two points is a straight line, and fortunately you could travel straight from south to north through the Chancellor District to arrive at Light’s Point. Haste was needed for fugitives, of course. A helmeted head poked out from behind the weak remains of an old apartment building on the south side of the Chancellor District. After making damn sure the coast was clear, the figure waved his hand sharply and darted out from behind his cover, headed for an alley. Four others followed him, all of them Reploids. The leader, a tall, stocky man in thick armor colored green and brown in a camouflage design, reached the alley first and pressed himself against the back stone wall of an abandoned apartment, waiting for his comrades. The first to arrive was the speediest of the lot, a lithe girl in a blue protective suit and brilliant silver gauntlets that reached up to her elbows. Thin armor of the same color covered her chest and stomach, and her dark hair flapped behind her as she shot into the alley, standing close to her comrade and looking around them frantically. Soon after was a man in very black armor with gold trimmings and a light purple protective suit underneath the armor. He passed up both his companions and halted further down the alley, checking the area ahead. A shorter Reploid in teal colored generic armor, as well as a notably large buster cannon joined him and they signaled that nothing was watching, though they’d still better hurry. The last to arrive was a shorter man in reddish, generic armor. He had a short, dark beard and hair of the same color that trailed over his grizzled and wizened face. He turned to the camouflaged Reploid as they began their sprint once more. “Are you sure we can’t just bolt through here, Gredam?” “Perhaps we could, Mortar,” the leader replied as they came to another stop, glancing briefly around them before continuing on at their relentless pace. “But I’m frankly surprised to hear that out of your mouth, of us all. Thornton will have this place watched. Zero and Sigma may be too busy throwing their armies at each other to bother with this place, but Thornton isn’t stupid. He knows this is the ideal spot. Snipers could be anywhere.” “Yes, yes…” Mortar stopped, pivoting sharply to check behind him and to his sides, acting on an instinct. Something was watching him, all right, but it was merely a startled feline that darted off soon afterwards. “Still, the demon is behind us, you know. We didn’t have much of a lead when we bolted from Times Square.” “If that bastard leads his troops up behind us, we’ll know. That’s what our own sniper is for.” “You think Saybir had any trouble getting to his nest?” “He won’t fail,” Gredam said simply, and Mortar, satisfied with Gredam’s responses, fell quiet. They caught up to the faster Reploids and the one in black armor fell back, speaking quietly next to Gredam. “Saybir’s nest is a mile up,” he said, not showing any sign of weariness from his long run. “That’s not what you’re worried about,” Gredam replied simply. “Of course not. It’s the bastard breathing down our neck. Grate’s picking up nothing ahead on his radar, but the Mechaniloid hounds are closing fast.” “Come on, Malevex,” Gredam replied, glancing down at his best friend, “don’t worry about him. We’ve only got two miles till Light’s Point. We’ll have the advantage there.” “Tell me you have something planned in case we get ambushed?” Malevex pressed, wearily. “You’re the strategist,” Gredam replied as they checked themselves again, starting down the final alley before a rather open road, “what do you say?” “First of all,” said a new voice as the teal Reploid fell back to run with Malevex and Gredam, “it’s not if we get ambushed, it’s when. I’m picking up the Traitor’s forces coming up like wildfire behind us.” “Damn it, Grate,” Mortar barked from ahead, “can’t you give any good news for once?” “The truth hurts,” Grate replied simply, double checking his extremely powerful internal radar. “Mostly Mechaniloids, Gredam, but our dearest friend’s definitely leading them.” They came to a halt before a long stretch of destroyed buildings. The skeletal remains of their foundations were the only cover the street had, but far down the road was the cluster of tall buildings where their comrade Saybir was waiting, sniper rifle in hand. He’d found himself in the Chancellor District quite by chance, and had got word to Gredam that there was an easy way for them to escape Megacity 5, and therefore escape the government that pursued them. Now the only one who hadn’t spoken yet, the girl, stared untrustingly at the open stretch of land and glanced back. “You’re sure there’s no way around this?” “Come now, Teytha,” Mortar said briskly as he laid a firm hand on her shoulder, “it’s folly to wait, and besides, you’ll be at the other side before all of us. Saybir’s covering us, so there’s no reason to worry.” Except of course for the potentially hidden snipers, but that wasn’t something people liked to hear. “No waiting,” Gredam said as he pushed ahead, running at full speed, “let’s go!” They were off, and indeed Teytha was the first to reach the other side. Her speed was far better than any of theirs, though Malevex wasn’t far behind. The long run, more than half a mile, was over before they knew it, and there were no reports from Saybir’s weapon. Mortar was last again, though no one knew if it was because of slowness or simple cautiousness. No one knew what Mortar was capable of, and he liked it that way. “Come on, come on,” Grate said nervously, ushering Gredam and Mortar into the secluded area. “We don’t have a lot of time. They’re approaching our previous location—holy shit!” “What?” Gredam said immediately, snapping into an even higher state of alertness. “More bad news, chief,” Grate said pointing ahead of them. “Humans, lots of them. Looks like one of Komanov’s dragoon squads.” “Think he’ll be there himself?” Malevex asked acidly, with the slightest hint of eagerness. “Come now, we’re never that lucky…” Mortar said under his breath. “Does it matter?” Gredam snapped. “Where are they coming from?” “Due north,” Grate replied, “and we’ve got the Traitor moving in from the south…this isn’t good.” “Yeah, no shit.” Gredam spat a more violent curse and looked for a fraction of a second at each of his friends. Malevex seemed quite nervous, though he appeared more than eager to continue heading north. Teytha was quiet as ever, though there was now considerable fear behind her eyes, a fear that Gredam himself was starting to feel. But it was much less frightening pressing onward than it was to turn back, and Grate seemed to think so, too. Finally there was Mortar, who just looked impatient. “Who the hell cares about human dragoons?” Mortar hissed, “better them than the murderer behind us!” “You don’t think he can beat all six of us at once, once Saybir gets down here?” Malevex asked the question even though he already knew the answer. “Perhaps we could win,” Gredam replied distractedly, “but he’d kill at least one of us, probably more. I’d rather not have anyone dying here.” “Oh there’s gonna be dying all right,” Grate said sharply. “But the blood’ll be organic! To Light’s Point!” If that didn’t decide for them, then the sharp crack from the upper window of the building to their right did the job. Saybir was shooting. They all spun around to see a Mechaniloid bloodhound slump in a bloody heap, and following it were several others, reinforced by a platoon of humans armed with the most vicious assault rifles on the market. They were faithful soldiers of the Megacity Army under Timofey Komanov, and they believed they were hunting Mavericks. They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot on sight. “GO!” Gredam shouted, and his comrades shot ahead, towards the dragoons waiting somewhere to the north. “Saybir! Forget them! Hurry!” The bullets were streaking by his head now, and he couldn’t wait any longer for his comrade. He darted off after his other allies, hoping against hope that Saybir would get a move on, or at least snipe the Traitor if he made an appearance. The runaways from the failed Terrornova program encountered Komanov’s second dragoon squad far ahead. The humans were all in tight formation, and the size of their ranks made them easy targets for the few Reploid targets. Gredam was the one who began the slaughter, but the others weren’t long to follow. The humans had opened fire immediately, and while their shots were slightly off, Malevex hadn’t been able to dart to safety before taking a few laser bursts into his shoulder, damaging his armor more than a little. Gredam had been adamant about the nobody dying thing, and in a brief fury launched an attack in retaliation. His shoulder armor slid back and revealed internal launchers. They flared with little spurts of fire as deadly missiles rose from them, spiraling through the sky and then down into the cluster of humans. Six missiles exploded violently in this way, and the tightly packed humans died together. Malevex leapt out of the shadows he’d hidden in and his lightsaber sang as it cut through the armor on the remaining humans. Teytha darted catlike through the scattered ranks, dragging energy daggers across the throats of stunned soldiers even as they fired wildly at her. Grate launched his giant bursts of plasma, and Mortar merely barreled through the enemies, thinking only to put distance between them and the army behind them. Gredam didn’t hear the enemy approaching him, and it nearly cost him his life. He spun at the last minute when he sensed the presence of another person, a human who fortunately had a jammed weapon. He was, however, wielding a lightsaber, and would have put it through Gredam had he not been decapitated quite suddenly by a force behind him. A tall, thin Reploid in armor as dark as Malevex’s twirled a broad, armor piercing katana and grinned briefly at his comrade. “Always watch your back.” “I owe you a beer, Saybir,” Gredam breathed as he nodded his head in thanks, and took off with the others. The humans kept shooting, but the hounds were closing in from behind, and Light’s Point was still a half-mile to the north. “Go!” Mortar shouted as the last group of humans divided and opened fire, “don’t wait any longer!” “Amen!” Gredam shouted as he fired his arm cannon at his attackers. They were all taking hits, with the exception of Teytha, who was too fast for anyone to lock onto. However they were definitely being slowed, and a cold feeling of dread was settling in all of their stomachs. They’d been expected to go to Light’s Point. It wasn’t safe, and they knew it, but they had nowhere else to go. Their greatest danger was coming behind them, so they couldn’t turn back, and the Chancellor District didn’t have many other escape routes. They were caught between two fires. “Gredam!” Grate crept to his ally’s side, speaking loudly over the din of the gunfire. “We’re not gonna make it before the demon catches up to us. We’ve been delayed too long. We have to fight!” It was his worst news yet. As if to punctuate Grate’s message, another squadron of the red armored dragoon forces serving in the Megacity 5 Army emerged from the south. Flanked by their Mechaniloid bloodhounds and equipped with potent weaponry, they were not people you wanted to be hunting you. Gredam felt his resolve dwindling at this point. Now his mind had been breached by fear, and he began to doubt his plan. He was programmed to be a leader in addition to a good soldier, and his enslavement under the humans hadn’t provided much of a chance for him to be a leader. Everyone knew that he had sound judgment, though, and when the time came for them to escape and leave Terrornova behind, his comrades had all placed their trust in him. He could not fail them now. Still, what options did he have? Push north into a potential trap? Returning south was certain death, so traps be damned, they’d have to enter Light’s Point. “Come on, come on!” Grate continued, dragging Gredam by the arm. “We’re still going north, I presume?” “Indeed!” he replied, finding his voice and moving on his own. “If they come, they come. We won’t just sit around and wait for them.” “News flash,” Malevex interrupted, having overheard his friend, “they’re already here.” The dragoons were firing, and there was no cover. Immediately, the assassins of Terrornova split up and went after individual targets. They were far more powerful than any of the humans, but they had already taken significant damage, and no one was able to dodge everything the humans were bombarding them with. Saybir slammed his heavy bladed sword through a bloodhound in mid air as it was jumping to rip out his throat. The robot dog’s head exploded on impact but the rest of it flew through the air like a baseball hit by a bat, colliding head on with its human master. Saybir darted towards the stunned man and snapped his metallic foot out and into the human’s chest rather than swinging his sword, breaking ribs but maybe not killing him. Having done what he considered his good deed for the day, Saybir turned and lashed his weapon out in a wide arc. Those who had been closing in on him backed up, and with a little grin of triumph the Reploid slammed his sword down into the earth, producing a shockwave that sent all of his attackers flying back. At the same time a hail of laser shots slammed into his armor, inflicting heavy damage. He staggered briefly and held his broad sword up as a shield to take the remaining shots, and then he dashed over to Gredam to back him up. Gredam swore to himself as he shot down one of the eagle-like drones the dragoons had swooping down at him. He figured there were about fifteen dragoons, and six of them. Since they were Reploids they probably shouldn’t have that much of a problem, but they were low on ammo and energy, and their armor had already taken heavy damage. The situation was beginning to look very bleak. So, he heard in his mind, is this where you fall to the Purge? Now that they can’t use you anymore, the humans would have you killed. Just like Redmond. “No,” he said under his breath, leaping to the side of a human’s attack, “Not like Redmond…” Yes, like Redmond, the evil voice continued, just like Redmond. He was a leader, too, you know. You two could well have served together in the Maverick army, or even the Hunter army, if situations were different. But he failed. He led his friends to their doom at the hands of the Traitor. You saw their bodies. You know how they died. Now it’s your turn. Are you going to fall to the Traitor, and join Redmond in his grave? “NO!” he said, much louder, scaring the hell out of Saybir. He drove forward and the thrusters in his leg armor roared, sending him flying at the closest dragoon. He put his fist through the young man’s chest, clear through his armor and clear through his body. He pulled it out, covered in blood, and watched as the white faced human slumped to the ground, a look of horror still plastered on his face. Gredam stared ever so briefly at his bloody fist, trembling slightly, but not for long. Through the horror at what he’d just done, his resolve had begun to rebuild, though he couldn’t explain why. Good, said the voice, you won’t join Redmond just yet.  But do take care of your friends now, won’t you? “None of them will die like Redmond and the others did,” Gredam swore to himself, spinning around with newfound energy to find his next target. And then came the single most difficult moment in his life. Even as he’d said the words to himself, that none of his friends would die, Saybir brought his sword down at one of the advancing bloodhounds. He missed, and before he could pull up his sword, the hound leapt up at his throat. Fortunately the dog missed, for Saybir smashed his helmeted head down at the last minute, sending stars through the dog’s cranium, but its claws sheared the armor on Saybir’s chest and pierced his protective suit, drawing the coolant that was considered to be the “blood” of Reploids. Saybir shook the dog off and swung his sword down heavily. This time he didn’t miss. Gredam approached and Saybir looked up with a quick grin, eying a target behind his leader. And then a large, demonic sword split Saybir’s body from head to toe. As if it were some part of a morbid cartoon, the two halves of the dead Reploid’s body fell apart like an opened banana peel and landed unceremoniously on the ground just as Saybir’s generator exploded violently. When the dust settled, Gredam found himself staring in shock first at what remained of his comrade, and then at the monster that had killed him. He was quite tall, even for a Reploid, and was adorned in a full suit of armor colored blacker than the blackest night. The armor was sleek and tight fitting, and its design could only really be described as sinister. Curved metal strips snaked out of his shoulder epaulets, and the same black twisted metal protruded spike-like from his gauntlets and boots, making the armor seem like a metal coat of flowing black fire. A simple yet sharp helmet sat upon his head, black as the rest of him, except for a glowing blue gemstone in the forehead surrounded by coils of gold “fire”. The lightsaber he carried was not at all like the kind seen commonly. Rather than the straight laser rod, the sword was jagged and curved, almost like Saybir’s now-ownerless sword. It glowed red, and strongly resembled a rising flame, just like the rest of his décor. His face was calm and emotionless, but his eyes just danced with smug glee. “What do you know?” said the Traitor. “He didn’t watch his back.” Time crashed around Gredam as he beheld the embodiment of the fiend humans called Satan. The battle still raged around him, but he wasn’t a part of it, and neither was the murderer before him. They were in their own world, protected by a thick yet fragile bubble. At least for now. When Gredam spoke his voice was as flat and emotionless as the expression on the Traitor’s face, but his eyes betrayed him as well, for in them was a rage that should have put any man or Reploid in a state of serious alarm, but it had no effect on this particular opponent. “You just never have enough blood on your hands, do you, Chartreuse?” The Reploid laughed richly, almost pleasantly, and it curdled Gredam’s blood that the man could be so chipper after killing someone. “You think I count the vials of blood I spill, Private Gredam? Come now, what kind of hobby would that be?” “Why?” His voice was now a hiss of accusation. “Why did you become what you are? Why join the human butchers? Why be their bloodhound and betray your fellow Reploids?!” Chartreuse laughed again, seriously aggravating Gredam. “Why? You still find time to ask that stupid question? Why, why, why? It’s always why. Does it matter why? No, no it doesn’t. It’s happening, so don’t question it.” “Silence!” Gredam shouted, raising his blaster and firing off a round towards his hated enemy. Chartreuse easily sidestepped and fixed his gaze on the Terrornova runaway. The corners of his mouth rose in a cruel grin. “Oh, so the puppet is giving his master orders now, is he…?” “You’re one to talk! You think you’re any different?!” “Of course I’m different!” Chartreuse said with a bright grin, knowing full well he was whittling down Gredam’s inhibitions bit by bit. Soon the Reploid would explode in a foolish attack caused by his rage, and then he would be easy pickings. “I am no one’s puppet. Unlike you, I have full control over my life, and you know something?” He dropped his voice and leaned forward, talking in a conspiratorial whisper. “The humans couldn’t stop me if they tried.” Gredam responded with another onrush of plasma, which Chartreuse again sidestepped. “Please, please! I can only laugh so hard without developing a side ache, you know.” “I’ll give you much worse than that!” Gredam growled. “You’re nothing but a goddamned infant! You stalk around killing everyone you can and giggling about it like it’s some game! You don’t play games with lives!” “Why? Who’s going to stop me?” He covered his mouth in mock shock. “Well, it seems I have contradicted myself! Imagine, me asking ‘why’? Well fine then, I concede. I’ll tell you ‘why’.” His saber suddenly appeared in a striking position, and he poised himself to charge forward. “Because I can.” And here Gredam nearly died. He swerved hard to the right as soon as he sensed that Chartreuse was going to attack, but the searing laser blade still passed through the armor on the left side of his body, fraying a few wires and spilling some blood, but nothing fatal. In a fury, the fugitive hoisted his arm cannon into position and fired shot after shot towards Chartreuse, who danced from side to side, avoiding the blasts like they were slow-moving glaciers. He struck out with his sword again and it planted itself in Gredam’s chest. The Reploid gasped in brief horror: by rights Chartreuse should have driven the sword clear through him. However the weapon was pulled out before it sank in far enough to do serious damage, and Gredam staggered back and fought to keep his balance, a new fury brewing in his mind. Chartreuse hadn’t killed him for a reason. The son of a bitch was playing with him! Gathering energies into his blaster, Gredam charged it to its maximum capacity and pointed it towards Chartreuse, who actually halted and bowed in Gredam’s direction before he loosed the shot. The giant ball of lethal energies swept by the agile killer as he ducked to the left, though the heat of the projectile had to have put Chartreuse’s cooling systems into a critical position. The shot had missed, but the area around Chartreuse exploded anyway. Looking around in shock, Gredam realized that the “bubble” that he had imagined around himself and Chartreuse was no more. Chartreuse pulled himself from the ground, where pieces of shrapnel were scattered about. Gredam looked to the north and saw Mortar, standing atop one of the higher masses of exposed building infrastructure. Somehow, the reliable trooper had gotten himself to that high place, and was raining grenade bombs down on the combatants. He’d nailed Chartreuse when the killer had least expected it. Terrornova’s bloodhound glowered up at Mortar, as though marking him. But then more direct help came to Gredam in the form of Grate. He fired bursts from his large arm cannon, and Gredam added his own projectiles to the mix. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Chartreuse snarled and, deciding anything was better than letting more attacks ruin his armor, charged towards Gredam again with his sword poised to kill. Grate halted in shock, unwilling to fire one of his wide blasts when the enemy was so close to Gredam. Fortunately, the group’s leader was ready. He hunched over when Chartreuse was close enough and let the armor over his right shoulder slide back. A missile flared up and shot out of the hidden launcher in the Reploid’s arm, colliding head on with Chartreuse and sending him back through the air. He rebounded to his feet immediately, teeth clenched in visible fury. The humans were regrouping. Malevex, Teytha, and Mortar had done a good job of keeping them at bay, but all three Reploids were now hurt in one way or another, though it was mostly armor damage. The seven remaining dragoons clustered around Chartreuse, and the soldiers of Terrornova were once more together. They glared daggers, but did not attack. Chartreuse made the first move. He charged towards Mortar with his sword held in his left hand. He held it as though he were preparing to slice diagonally downward from high above, and Mortar prepared to dodge it. At the last minute, though, Chartreuse did something odd. He thrust his right arm out towards Gredam, and his wrist gauntlet began to glow with fiery energies. It was as though his gnarled armor was coming alive and becoming the black flames it resembled. The energy, a mix of corrosive plasma, oil, and actual fire somehow colored black, coiled around Chartreuse’s wrist and exploded from his hand in a small jet stream that hit Gredam dead on. The leader of the fugitives fell back, screaming, as the attack took its toll. Here it was, the “Black Fire”, or the Acidic Flame, so named because the fire coated the victim’s body and corroded their armor like acid, and as the searing heat of the flames grew closer and closer to the internal systems of a Reploid, overheating was inevitable. Unwilling to let that happen, Gredam threw himself to the ground, rolling about furiously. Teytha was at his side immediately, helping to smother the flames. At the same time Mortar was fending off Chartreuse’s actual sword chop by rolling to the side and discharging a regular beam of plasma that the killer artfully dodged. And, finally, the humans were attacking again. Grate fired, taking one down, but he immediately took damage from their gunfire and had to jump back. Teytha was forced to leave Gredam and help Grate fend off the attackers with her speedy swordplay. The remaining bloodhounds were few in number, only three, but they had all targeted Teytha, and they were trying to slow her down long enough for someone to get a shot off at her. Malevex, on the other hand, could care less about the human threat. Gredam seemed to be recovering from Chartreuse’s attack, but Mortar wouldn’t stand a chance against the Traitor at close range. He slammed the humming blade of his lightsaber into the ground and thrust both of his palms out at Chartreuse, who was preparing to swing his sword in the arc that Mortar would never suspect, and would never have time to dodge. Energies rose from Malevex’s own dark armor and the flames enveloped his hands, but the Black Fire felt very cold to him. He hated this attack. Why did he have to have it? Why this, of all attacks? Why was his only innate power the same attack used by the greatest Reploid traitor to date? Malevex loathed how similar he was to the humans’ pet murderer. Chartreuse had black armor; so did he. Chartreuse was a skilled swordsman; so was he. Chartreuse was a tall humanoid; so was he. Chartreuse could use the unique Black Fire; so could he. Granted, Malevex’s attack was a lot weaker than Chartreuse’s, but it was still there, and he bitterly opposed using it. But in this case, it was like giving Chartreuse a taste of his own medicine, and Malevex gladly let the stream of Black Fire—though his had more of a purplish hue—erupt off of his fingertips and stream into Chartreuse’s unguarded back, just as the killer swung his sword down in what should have been the blow that killed Mortar. Instead, the Traitor reeled, shrieked, and glared poisonous daggers at Malevex. His sword actually shook in his violently furious hands as he willed the pain to be gone, ignoring the dying fire surrounding him and taking a step towards his new prey, who ripped his sword from the ground and had it in a defensive position in less than a heartbeat, clearly expecting instant retaliation. He got it, but it wasn’t the sword attack he’d expected. Realizing that Mortar was still behind him and probably about to fire a grenade into his back, Chartreuse leapt high into the air, and the Emergency Acceleration System in his boots flared to life, sending him shooting upwards diagonally so that he was soon behind both Malevex and Mortar. As he went up, though, Chartreuse’s left arm converted into a fearsome cannon, and unleashed a stream of big, highly concentrated blue orbs of destructive plasma. They were rapid fire, too, and each one was directed at the grounded swordsman. Malevex’s thin saber wasn’t wide enough to block the shots, and an unlucky hit in his shoulder spun his body sharply around towards the attack and ruined his defenses. His chest and stomach took the full brunt of the few remaining blasts, and they tunneled through his armor like it was butter. He gave a startled cry as the force of the blasts drove him off his feet and to the ground in a heavily damaged heap. Unfortunately, his pain was far from over. Chartreuse touched down and, despite Mortar’s frantically launched blasts and Gredam’s furious firing from where he knelt, the killer Reploid was determined to at least incapacitate one more of his enemies while he had the chance. His right fist flared with Black Fire, and it actually traveled up the blade of his wicked sword, giving the weapon quite a hellish appearance. Grinning maliciously, Chartreuse swung the blade and the arc of energies collided with Malevex’s prone form. The Terrornova fugitive screamed in as much shock as pain, as the vile flames easily found his vulnerable skin and weakened internals from the holes in his rent armor. Gredam was on his feet now, and his arm cannon was fully charged and sparkling with overflowing energies. Chartreuse gave him another mocking little bow and snapped his arm cannon out like a striking snake, firing off a few rounds of his formidable plasma before Gredam unleashed his powerhouse blast. Whatever grand, flashy escape Chartreuse had planned, it didn’t go off. He tried to dodge to the right, but the wide blast caught him in the side and spun him around like a top a few times through the air before he landed. He rebounded to his feet instantly, but he had to get his bearings. Mortar took the opportunity to fire a grenade into the ground at the killer’s feet, sending him flying back through the air. Chartreuse somersaulted in mid flight and landed on his feet, leaping just as nimbly to the left as a shot from Grate flew past him. He whistled and the two remaining bloodhounds came to his side, for Teytha had killed the third one. Teytha herself wasn’t fighting at the moment. Grate seemed to be handling himself well and Mortar and Gredam had distracted Chartreuse, so she ran towards her other friend, who was still glowing with the poisonous flames. Malevex felt her give him a sort of hug, much like she’d done to Gredam when the Black Fire had hit him, though he figured out she was just trying to get as much of herself onto the fire as she could. “It clings to anything it touches,” she explained weakly, gritting her teeth against the searing pain that the fire caused her as it fled from Malevex’s charred armor to hers. “Even other Reploids.” She hadn’t yet been seriously wounded, and it was much easier for her to withstand the Black Fire than it would have been for Malevex, and she got as much of the fire away from his worst wounds as she could. “There.” “I…thanks,” he choked out, forcing the blood in his throat back down. She nodded, and met his eyes briefly. He saw quite a bit of fear in them, mixed with pain and slight desperation, but something else too…though he couldn’t tell exactly what it was. “Get someplace safe,” she whispered finally, squeezing his shoulder once and heading back to the calamity. Safe? Yeah, sure. Where was safe? Where could he go that these damned humans would leave him alone? But he knew what she’d meant, and he wasn’t about to do it. He couldn’t hide somewhere and watch Chartreuse kill the others. Getting to his feet, an act that he found more painful than anything in his life thus far, he met the eyes of a human dragoon who’d moved in to finish him off. Teytha must have missed him. “Oh no you don’t,” Malevex breathed as he pointed his hand out in the human’s direction. Before the dragoon could squeeze the trigger of his assault rifle, the Black Fire was upon him. It ate through his armor the same way it did to a Reploid’s, but once it was through, the result was much more serious. The human screamed in the most absolute form of agony, dropping his weapon and clawing at his burning and probably melting body. “Good, fine,” Malevex hissed coldly and with total lack of remorse. “Burn. Melt. Die. Vanish. You and your whole goddamned race.” He snatched up his sword and limped off to help the others. On the other end of the battlefield, Gredam was doing everything in his power to eliminate the bloodhounds. Chartreuse was using them much more effectively than the dragoons had, and was having them attack in ways that would throw off one of the Traitor’s intended victims while he moved in for the kill, or to disrupt any defensive formation the Terrornova assassins put together. Mortar leapt against the skeletal frame of yet another building of the ruined Chancellor District and propelled off it to a higher frame, well above where Chartreuse was coordinating his attacks, and dropped one grenade. It went off and badly wounded one of the dogs and killed one of the last two dragoons. In the distance Mortar thought he could hear Malevex somehow manage to kill the other one, and he tried hard to tune the screaming out. Chartreuse, however, was undaunted. Even as Teytha, Gredam, and Grate flew at him he raised his cannon and fired off his crazy machine gun, scattering the three attackers. His hand flared with dark flames, and once again his lightsaber became the living flame of death. He swung it several times at his opponents, but they were skillful enough at dodging. To make matters worse, Malevex, the one Chartreuse thought he had defeated, was approaching. Then it all fell apart for the fugitives. Chartreuse suddenly turned and swung his sword hard in Mortar’s direction. The soldier had no room on the I-beams and bare scaffolding to dodge the arc of flaming energies, though he tried anyway because of instinct. So, not only did he lose his balance and fall, but also he fell with some of the Black Fire on him. Teytha leapt at Chartreuse with her sword flying in short, unpredictable arcs. The killer somehow managed to parry them all, but for once there was definite worry etched into his face. He spun his body in a complicated twist, snapping his boot into Teytha’s chest and sending her staggering backwards just as Gredam rushed him with a full-body tackle. It spilled neither of them on the ground, but it ruined Chartreuse’s balance the same way he’d ruined Teytha’s. Mortar was getting shakily to his feet, and the Traitor saw his chance. He launched his body towards the stocky Reploid and twisted his body half around at the waist, preparing to swing his blade out in the sudden, wide arc that would separate Mortar. Gredam stumbled, still recovering from his tackle maneuver, but Teytha and Grate approached the killer to deter him. And then Chartreuse pivoted, blasted off his feet with a dash to the right of Mortar with the EAS in his boots, jammed his feet into the ground, and launched himself back at Teytha, bringing his sword towards her with all the force he had, grinning cruelly at the doomed girl who’d deflected so many of his well planned attacks. She saw it coming, she knew she’d been duped, she knew she was dead, but it didn’t stop Teytha from raising both her hands in front of her in what looked to Chartreuse like a final, feeble attempt at defending herself from his lethal blade. The Traitor’s sword cleaved far into Teytha’s torso, not quite cutting her in two, but damaging enough inside her that she couldn’t possibly survive it. The searing blade melted her armor, caused an explosive gush of coolant, but surprisingly no explosion. Somehow he’d missed her generator. At the exact same moment the blade hit home, however, a blinding flash of red light enveloped the lonely corner of the Chancellor District. Chartreuse was thrown back through the air like a bullet ricocheting off a wall, and red electricity coursed down his shaking body; Teytha’s parting gift. “AAARGH!” the killer screamed in genuine pain, landing badly amidst his stunned enemies. His scream and the sizzling report of the electricity attack nearly drowned out Mortar’s cry of “NO!” and Gredam’s growl of rage. Grate was the first to take intelligent action. He fired his big cannon not at Chartreuse, but at the healthier of the two bloodhounds, killing it quickly. Malevex found enough strength through his fury to cleave the life out of the other one. Mortar had dashed to Teytha’s side, and Gredam was just staring at the quickly recovering Chartreuse with a look that combined complete revulsion and disbelief. For his part, the Traitor had been devastated by that last attack. The electricity had gone straight to his internal programs, and too much electricity was a very bad thing for the big walking computer that was a Reploid. To make matters worse, his attack hounds were gone, and he was facing off against a gaggle of furious Reploids who wouldn’t give up for anything now. Time to split. But he wasn’t going to leave with just two kills. He charged forward into Gredam, who couldn’t snap out of his shock to act in time, and spilled him to the side with a sweeping kick. He leapt off the ground and punched Malevex hard in the face before the wounded Reploid could react, and while he reeled from that blow the Traitor snapped his boot into the ebon fugitive’s weakened stomach, flooring him. He felt the searing heat of Grate’s plasma before he heard it, but he ignored the pain and the damage the shot had caused him and snapped his leg up high, kicking Grate in the head. Completely off guard, Grate staggered back as Chartreuse leveled his cannon and opened fire. Grate had already taken serious damage from handling the dragoons, and this was too much for him. Chartreuse used whatever time he had before the other Reploids recovered to unload plasma into Grate’s body, riddling the Reploid with blasts that ripped deeper and deeper into him. An explosion tore through his chest as his generator burst, and the dead Reploid collapsed in a bleeding heap. Mortar stood, leveled his normal cannon, and fired shot after shot. Chartreuse leapt nimbly still away from the attacks and began a mad sprint off back the way he came. “Bastard!” Mortar bellowed after him, activating his grenade launcher and raising it high. A grenade flew in a high arc that covered much distance, coming down in the cluster of buildings Chartreuse had just disappeared into. The buildings, already devastated by Death Rogumer’s earlier assault, collapsed violently, but whether or not any of this ever hurt Chartreuse was unknown. He was gone. “Cowardly bastard!” Mortar shouted again as a dust cloud buried the area where the buildings were falling as a result of Mortar’s destructive vengeance. He looked like he had more to shout, but instead he just let both arms fall to his sides weakly. His firing arm converted back into a hand and he sank back to his knees beside Teytha’s still form. She’d choked out her last breaths just as Mortar had come upon her, and he didn’t even know if she’d seen him before darkness had taken her. He absently brushed locks of her dark hair away from her face and just as absently stroked her cheek with his thumb, staring down at her with quiet disbelief. He didn’t notice that Malevex had also sunk to his knees on Teytha’s other side, clutching her hand and staring down with something that was more like guilt than disbelief. Gredam just stood there, staring quietly down at his two remaining comrades with a mixture of disbelief and guilt greater than either of theirs. He’d failed. Technically the mission was a success because the enemy was defeated and three of them were still alive, but “technically” didn’t mean a damn thing. He’d still failed. Grate, Saybir, and Teytha had each placed their trust in Gredam’s leadership, and had died because of it. Even the ones who survived had paid a terrible price. Malevex was critically wounded and Mortar was totally drained, and both of them appeared completely devastated. He himself felt a hollowness brew up in his chest that he somehow knew would never, ever go away. He shook his head slowly, still staring at Teytha’s body, and willed himself to turn away. But he wasn’t trying to escape the horrific sight; he was looking for another one. He walked slowly towards Grate’s plasma riddled body and knelt down beside it, staring into his friend’s eyes, still wide with pain and the horror that came with the sudden realization that death was upon you. Gredam jerked his head to the side spasmodically and closed Grate’s eyes, getting slowly back to his feet. The hollowness was greater than ever, but he knew it’d get greater still. He had been designed as both a warrior and a leader. He was programmed specifically to lead troops, but Terrornova had gotten a hold of him before he could join any other army to put his skills to use. As a slave to human butchers, Gredam didn’t have much of a chance to exercise any form of troop command, which drove him nuts because on any given day he’d had ten plans completed in his head to defeat his human captors, but he never knew if he had the skill to pull them off. When Sigma had rebelled, the Megacity Army knew their Terrornova program had failed and tried to kill all the Reploids involved in it. They’d moved them all to what they believed to be a secure location, but a fault in the security program of the transports they were riding in allowed most of them to escape. Finally, they were free. But only in the barest sense were they free, because now the army had a big problem. If the Terrornova soldiers got word out about what the humans had done to them, and what they’d had them do to the Reploids as a people, the Maverick Hunter army would run dry of Reploid recruits. Therefore they’d dispatched their pet killer, Chartreuse, who for some reason was always in favor of the Terrornova commanders despite his being a Reploid. So now with the threat of death inches behind them, the newly labeled fugitives had to make a run for it. At first they’d all followed Redmond, the other natural leader of the group and Gredam’s good friend. They’d planned together all the time, and had devised several ways of eluding the government. But then Chartreuse had caught Redmond by surprise, and the charismatic soldier had met his end at the tip of the Traitor’s blade. Chartreuse and his dragoons killed many of the fugitives that night, and those who lived scattered. Most clustered around Gredam, and now it was up to him to get the others to safety. He’d had the firepower and skill of Grate, Saybir, and Teytha on his side, as well as the strategic skills of his best friend Malevex, and the greatly helpful advice of the wise Mortar. They’d selected Light’s Point as their escape route, and all Gredam had needed to do was get them there. But he’d failed half of them, and that was a wound in his soul that would never heal. He had no experience with the outside world, and therefore he had no personal ambitions yet. His only goal was getting his friends to safety, and they’d believed in his ability to do it. His failure clashed with his programming, which stated that he should never lose men if he could help it, and for a man already completely stressed out this didn’t help any. He came out of his personal prison and realized that he was standing at the spot where Saybir had died. The two gruesome halves of the Reploid’s body were still there, and Gredam winced at the sight, but more at the thought of what he had to do now. For indeed there was one last task he had to perform as Saybir’s leader. Streaks of energies shot towards his activated arm cannon as it gathered power, as much power as it could hold. “I’m sorry,” Gredam whispered to the body as he let the shot go. It tore into both parts of Saybir’s head and most of his upper torso, and Gredam followed it up with a few normal shots, destroying as much of his comrade’s remains as he possibly could. If any onlooker had been watching, Gredam thought somewhat bitterly, they’d never understand. They’d consider it a brutal act and accuse him of desecrating his ally’s remains. However, Saybir was a lost cause. Chartreuse had defeated him completely, and even if by some chance his control chip remained in tact, there was no way Gredam could get him to a place where he could be repaired, not in the state his body was in. Therefore destroying his control chip was the only way to make sure that Terrornova wouldn’t revive the poor guy simply to make him suffer a more painful death. They’d done it when the program was still active; if you killed yourself, you were reactivated and tortured back into your grave, usually in front of your comrades to discourage them from doing the same thing. Otherwise all the soldiers would have just killed themselves, and Terrornova would never have worked. The humans probably had better things to do now than waste time reactivating a dead fugitive just to be cruel to him, but Gredam refused to take any chances. The abyss was better than Terrornova, they all knew. He turned slowly and marched back towards Grate, charging his arm cannon again. It was a terrible feeling, doing this, but somewhere in the more desperate part of his mind, Gredam figured he was at least doing something right for them. He pointed his cannon at Grate, but then he stopped. Grate’s torso was ruined, but still connected to the rest of him, and Chartreuse hadn’t shot him in the head. Therefore, there might be a way to salvage him, or at least preserve his control chip. His cannon shut down and converted back into a hand. He gently picked up Grate’s still, heavy form and slung him rather unceremoniously over his shoulder. Dark Reploid blood spilled down out of Grate’s open wounds onto Gredam’s armor, and he didn’t try to wipe it off. It was his fault it was there. He moved very slowly now, with the added weight, and made his way back to his comrades. What he found was something he could have done without, but he forced himself to take it in. Malevex was in the same position, still kneeling quietly at Teytha’s side with her hand in his. The two had confided in each other a lot, Gredam knew, and he imagined they’d been kind of close, so he could hardly blame his friend for the tears he was shedding silently. Mortar, however, had been much closer to Teytha, having acted as a sort of father figure for her, and he wasn’t taking this well at all. He wasn’t doing anything major; he was just staring down at her, with a very grief stricken expression. He appeared completely deflated, and seemed to age before Gredam’s eyes. The cunning fire that had always brimmed behind the Reploid’s eyes flickered and died, as though all his resolve was fleeing him. Finally Mortar bent down and kissed Teytha on the forehead, and then picked her up in his arms as he stood. It seemed as though moving pained him, and he turned slowly in the direction of Light’s Point and started walking. Gredam followed, just as slowly, and stopped when he came to Malevex, who was still kneeling quietly on the ground, shaking slightly. “Come on,” Gredam said softly, “we’re almost there.” “I…er…” His response didn’t sound like it was choked with emotion, but rather frustration. Gredam figured it out, and winced again. Malevex wasn’t frozen with grief; he just simply lacked the strength to get up. Gredam noticed for the first time the extent of his friend’s wounds. He stooped down and took his friend under the arm with his free hand, helping him to his feet. Malevex tried to walk but lost his balance almost immediately, and Gredam quickly caught him. He’d have to support his friend and carry his fallen comrade on the trip to Light’s Point. It would be a long mile… They started after Mortar, and moved faster than either would have liked, because no one knew when Chartreuse might come after them with reinforcements. They had to get to the docks as soon as possible. For a long time they walked in silence before Gredam looked down at Malevex, who seemed to be weakening with each step. “Can you make it to the docks…?” “I’ll make it.” The words were stronger than Gredam had expected, and he nodded. “Do you think Mortar’ll be all right?” he said at length. Malevex looked up, concern in his eyes, but not necessarily for Mortar. “We don’t blame you.” Gredam staggered slightly. He must be pretty easy to read in his current state of mind. “I was supposed to get all of us to the point, and half of us are dead.” “I don’t blame you,” Malevex repeated, “and neither will Mortar. Light’s Point was the obvious choice, and none of us would have chosen differently.” He smiled, however weakly. “And for what it’s worth, thanks for getting me out alive.” Gredam found no words to answer that one. They walked a little further before whatever strength Malevex had been maintaining gave out, and Gredam nearly lost his own balance while trying to stop his friend from falling. It seemed the stumble also brought down the resolve Malevex had been holding up. “What in hell,” he choked out slowly, “did we do to them?” It was the same question they’d asked themselves every day, but now it hit harder than ever before. “Simple,” Gredam replied, surprised at the coldness of his own voice, “we did what they told us to do.” Malevex shook his head slowly while forcing himself to maintain some semblance of control. “They…they can’t get away with this…” He stopped long enough to spit a stream of coolant out of his mouth that had bubbled up from his chest. “I hope…” he gagged, getting the rest of the coolant out, “I hope Sigma wins. I hope he rips them all to shreds…every last damn human.” “He will,” Gredam said with as firm a nod as he could muster. “He’s got the eight most powerful generals in the world, plus Commander Vile. He’s got Reploids flocking to him from all corners of the globe. And besides,” he added, “even if he doesn’t defeat all the humans, the guilty party will get what’s coming to them anyway.” He took a deep breath, and his life was decided for him. “No, Malevex, they will not get away with this.” “…We’ll come back, then?” “Yeah, we’ll come back, once we get stronger…once they forget about us.” Malevex lowered his head, chewing on the idea for a while until finally voicing his opinion. “I get Komanov.” “Fine!” Gredam said with a laugh, his first laugh of the day, and the morbidity of it was cruelly delicious. “Then I get Thornton.” “Mortar can take out Kitao, ‘cause Kitao’s the one who picked up Chartreuse…” “And then we can all get Virdelko,” Gredam finished, his spirits slightly uplifted by renewed vows of vengeance. No more mourning. No more running. Just action. “Where to after Light’s Point?” Malevex asked, moving with a bit more strength now. “I figure we can go to the Sherman Division. You know, that old cluster of apartments and warehouses…find a place to recuperate and get final charter out of the Megacity. From there…I don’t rightly know, I admit.” “That works for me. So, the Sherman Division?” “Yeah.” Gredam smiled. He didn’t have much confidence at all, but at least he had a plan again. “From there things will come together.” But they hadn’t come together, not at all. The Sherman Division at the outskirts of Sub City 3, the final suburb of Megacity 5, was not the sanctuary they had hoped it would be. Instead, the only memories of the division and the warehouse they had commandeered were fire, fire and falling walls, and the desperate battle cries of friend and foe. Gredam of Terrornova opened his eyes lazily, staring at the ceiling of his small chamber. Subconscious lapses into his past had become almost routine for him, and he knew by now that he didn’t have any chance of returning to sleep if he didn’t sort out his thoughts. Therefore he swung his legs out over his bed and got to his feet, walking groggily towards the single window in his room. It was a small living area, and he liked it that way. Since he was the chief commander of the Mavericks, he could by rights have taken the much larger room Sigma used to occupy, but Gredam had always—and for good reason—suffered from a bit of paranoia, and quite preferred having a smaller place to keep an eye on. He stared out at the bright moon and rested his chin in his hands, not bothering to brush away locks of his thick brown hair away from his eyes, figuring he’d be back in bed soon enough. He knew he could get along just fine without sleep, but Gredam found recharging chambers to be uncomfortable and untrustworthy, as he always seemed to find the ones that broke while in use. However there was a much more obvious reason for Reploids to sleep that most people still yet overlooked: it passed time. The world, by all accounts, shut down at night. Reploids who enjoyed the nightlife were in paradise, but for the vast majority of the mechanical race, it was just as well to sleep the night away than it was to stay awake through the long hours of the dark doing little to nothing. Gredam of course had plenty to do, and he should be doing it, but at that moment in time he didn’t care. Life had been stressful lately, and he wanted a night off. Rank hath its privileges. But apparently he would be denied even that, he thought with a roll of his eyes. His mind liked to replay the Chancellor Battle in particular over and over in his sleep, and he never liked it any better. He was grateful that at least this time the dream stopped before arrival at the Sherman Divison, which was probably the worst incident of them all. Gredam, Mortar, and Malevex, with the deactivated Grate and Teytha, had gotten to Light’s Point without incident and commandeered a vessel for their own use. Mortar, who had always been a talented mechanic, had fixed Malevex up enough that he was no longer in any mortal peril, and they had infiltrated the Sherman Division quietly. They’d set up shop in a warehouse, and there Mortar worked to remove Teytha’s well-preserved control chip from her body. He’d sealed it in a box equipped with very sturdy armor, wanting to take no chances. With the control chip, it might be possible to one day revive Teytha, but not all traits were stored in a control chip. Without her old body, Teytha would never be the same. Mortar had intended to rescue Grate’s control chip as well, but unfortunately the past had caught up with them sooner than they would have liked. Timofey Komanov had of course expected the fugitives to head for Light’s Point, and for that reason sent Chartreuse and the dragoons to that location. He’d also accepted the possibility that Chartreuse might fail to exterminate all six Reploids, however unlikely it may have seemed, and placed spies in Light’s Point just in case anyone slipped through. Of course, the three survivors had been seen, and it wasn’t long before the dragoons were coming back for more. They’d quickly found the runaways and bombarded their warehouse with heavy fire, destroying most of it and invading with a vengeance. Gredam had become separated from his friends during the chaos, and while he could hear them fighting and yelling, he never managed to meet up with them. Blissfully, Chartreuse was not leading the dragoons, and so Gredam was able to slip away from the attackers, eluding Terrornova once and for all. But escape came at a high price. Malevex and Mortar had escaped, though Gredam had not seen it, and they had been scattered from that point on. Gredam believed both of his friends to be dead, and he had seen the warehouse collapse completely, burying Teytha and Grate forever in rubble. For all intents and purposes, Gredam had now lost them all. From that point on Gredam had become the Reploid version of a bum, slinking through back alleys of the Sub Cities surrounding Megacity 5, not caring if Terrornova found him, and no longer concerned with life or death. What right did he have to live, if everyone else had died? A leader was supposed to die with his soldiers; it was one of the most important principles in Gredam’s programming. But something stopped him, and while he’d thought it to be simple cowardice, he later discovered that something deep inside him knew something he didn’t; somehow he knew that he wasn’t the only survivor. Then came the end of the Third War and the defeat of Dr. Doppler, and with it the rise of Kou Cao the Gold Serpent. The current king of the underworld was but a small power then, and soon recruited all of Doppler’s remaining followers who faced persecution by the Hunters and humans, offering them work and building a coalition of loyalty among both humans and Reploids, which only added to his mystique; no one knew if the Gold Serpent was a human or a Reploid. No one even knew if Kou Cao was his true name. He was a total enigma, and he probably liked it that way. The Gold Serpent had found Gredam at long last, and invited him into the massive underworld ring he was building. Since the work would give some point to his day-to-day existence, Gredam agreed, and began taking jobs for the shadowy power broker, doing mostly grunt work. If the Serpent had realized the power of Gredam’s strategic mind, he would have called on him to do bigger, better things, but Gredam believed himself to be a total failure in that area, and so kept his so-called skills a secret. Working for the Gold Serpent brought two major blessings. The first was realized when Gredam was supposed to help a spy take out a human crime boss. The spy, as Gredam had soon learned, was working for a small but highly secret espionage ring lead by a man who was supposed to be almost as conservative as the Serpent himself. Gredam had asked the name of the spy’s boss, figuring there might be an opportunity for work, and couldn’t believe what he had been told: Malevex was alive, and operating a spy network for the Gold Serpent. It hadn’t been hard to track down his best friend, and from then on talk began to brew again of exacting revenge upon their human captors, if any were still alive. There were many taskmasters involved in the Terrornova program, but many had fought in the Maverick wars and been killed. Nevertheless they began to reminisce, and that brought up extremely strong anti-human feelings that they would get a chance to act upon soon enough. But before that Kou Cao unveiled his second inadvertent blessing. Lately a scientific movement had begun that involved resurrecting destroyed Reploids that were in good enough shape to work on. The movement was strongly supported by Metal Shark Player, a controversial Reploid figure, and it was rumored that he was sending agents to investigate the Megacity 5 junkyards to see if there was anything he could work with. Now, when the Gold Serpent had someone killed, he had them killed for a reason. He wasn’t too thrilled about the thought of some of them being brought to life to satisfy the dreams of a dumb shark keen on recycling, and hired Malevex to make sure that the junkyards were Shark Player-Free. He’d taken Gredam with him, and they’d found no agents of the shark, but they did find plenty of in tact bodies that may or may not be enemies of the Serpent. Most were destroyed, but Malevex’s most capable agent, the sniper Diavus, had halted his mission to examine a peculiar shaped lightsaber, and couldn’t quite bring himself to destroy the remains of the owner. When Malevex and Gredam had come over to have a look, Diavus had suddenly become their new best friend. He’d unwittingly discovered the body of Teytha, which apparently hadn’t been lost forever in Sherman Ambush, as they called it. They searched for Grate’s remains, but nothing was found of him. Malevex had taken Teytha’s control chip with him when he’d fled their warehouse all those years ago, and so they took her body back to Malevex’s base, repaired it, and revived their ally. She’d seemed rather shaken up by the whole death thing, but her mood changed gradually as time went on. She was now free, after all, and compared to her old profession, working for Kou Cao was a cinch. Then, the Repliforce was blamed for the destruction of the Sky Lagoon, and the Fourth War began. When the Maverick Hunters had triumphed again, Sigma had escaped death aboard the Final Weapon only to assume control of a spiritless, broken army. Never before had the future seemed so bleak for the Mavericks. Sigma had no veterans on his side, and instead was full of fresh-faced young’uns and cutthroats without anywhere else to turn. Here, the survivors of Terrornova saw their chance. Through his spy network and with the Gold Serpent’s help, Malevex was able to track Sigma down to Seraph Castle and all three had offered their services to the Maverick King. They would train the army and rebuild it, and thus give Sigma another chance to accomplish his original goal of a Reploid nation. Sigma quickly hired them and placed them in command of the army, and while they trained the soldiers often, “The Team” was never seen elsewhere. Until now. Gredam looked hard at the moon, sinking already into the horizon to make room for the coming sun. Now he was the leader of the Mavericks, and his comrades with him. Even Mortar was there. With the resources they had as Maverick chieftains, they had learned that the old Reploid was still active in the slums of Megacity 5, and now he was secure in his own quarters not far from Gredam’s. Malevex and Teytha had returned safely from the Blackstar 5041 hijacking, and they were not in any mortal danger. So why, then, did his blasted mind have to replay that particular incident tonight? The result of the Chancellor Battle had left three of Gredam’s closest friends dead. Now one of them was alive again, and he’d found both Mortar and Malevex via the Serpent. Things had turned out much, much better than he could ever have hoped. He and Malevex had even managed to destroy two of the Terrornova commanders, just like they’d sworn they’d do as they limped from the Chancellor District. Everyone was safe, so why the dream? Perhaps it was a reminder. Gredam had been unprepared for the humans in the Chancellor District, and through no fault of his own. Still, the consequences had been horrible, and he blamed himself for what happened enough that he couldn’t let it happen again. Now, he had a much larger host under his command, and they placed much belief in the thought that The Team would make the Maverick army great again, and he above all didn’t want to fail them there. So, he had to be prepared this time. He’d cover every base, and would do everything in his power to make sure Seraph Castle didn’t fall. That was his duty to his men. But he also had a duty to his friends, he knew. He was becoming more aware of it every day, and he had no idea what to do about it. Mortar was still full of wise advice and his own wit, but much of the fight seemed to be taken out of him. Technically Mortar wasn’t that much older than Gredam at all, but the heaviness that seemed to follow the Reploid around made him seem much older. Even though he’d been tuned up at Seraph Castle, where he figured it was safe, he still seemed quite intent on taking his sweet old time going about his business, and his business was never war, if he could help it. But Mortar wasn’t the only one who seemed uncomfortable in his new surroundings. Teytha, too, seemed to want something else. She was a terrific soldier and was more than willing to help them out, but Gredam knew that she was only here because they were, and that she’d strike out on her own away from the dangers of combat were it not for her fear of being alone in a human controlled world. And even Malevex, for all his efforts and his longstanding hatred of the humans, seemed to be more reserved than usual lately. He’d been talking a lot with Mortar, and he’d also been spending enough time with Teytha that Mortar was teasing them both about it. The dark Reploid seemed to be gradually changing, however slightly. There was an uncertainty about him, as though he were worried privately about something that probably wasn’t about killing humans…no, more likely he was beginning to feel that Seraph Castle was not as safe for them as it had originally seemed. And Gredam felt that way, too. As the culmination of his plan drew nearer, his enthusiasm was giving way to anxiety, and he desired now nothing but to get it over with. He tilted his head to look toward the mountain where the Mavericks had hollowed out a giant cave to serve as a garage. In there, the airship Gallagher was three fourths constructed. Revolver and his crew had completed the hull and outer shell and were now installing the components that would turn it into the war machine Gredam wanted it to be. A thin smile crept onto Gredam’s face. It would be hard to keep the Hunters at bay after this plan went into motion, and they would storm Seraph Castle for sure. As it stood, the Mavericks couldn’t hold out against such an attack, and so they would have to take out the Hunters with one good, solid blow. Gredam had the means to do that, and soon he would have the vehicle to do it with. And not only would the Hunters fall if the plan succeeded, but another group would be devastated, a group that relied heavily on a floating base… But if they failed, there really was nothing they could do to stop their demise from coming about. At that point it would be up to him to get as many of his men out alive as he could, as Sigma had so often done in the past. This was an unsettling thought, because he hadn’t been so good at that last time… “But why worry?” he asked himself quietly, turning from the window and yawning. Indeed, why worry? They had the initiative; they had surprise on their side. The humans and the Hunters would never lock onto the Maverick plan until it was far, far too late, and even then Gredam had several nice surprises waiting for them. It may be a hard fought battle, but they would win it. And even if they couldn’t beat the Hunters, Gredam thought as he laid back down in his bed, the most important target would never escape. The survivors of Terrornova would have their revenge.