Vulcan dodged each slice with catlike agility, feinting and slipping in his own attacks while he could. His opponent was just as tough as he was, if not more so, and was fighting with all he had. Still, Vulcan was the faster of the two, and all he needed was one solid hit…
His opponent rolled towards him, stunning saber flailing about blindly, though the attack itself would have been very effective had he not already used it twice in the battle. Expecting it, Vulcan was able to leap overhead and thrust his saber down at his enemy, but the opponent was too fast this time, twisting out of the saber’s reach and getting to his feet.
The opponent, a lavender Reploid of medium height and build, flashed Vulcan a quick glare before charging at the rookie with another hail of slashes. Vulcan parried or countered each blow, and whenever he struck, the purple one was just as fast. Vulcan, a Reploid who’d spent about a month in the ranks of the Maverick Hunters, was able to handle himself in a swordfight or a gunfight, though he wasn’t remarkably good at either. What he was good at was reconnaissance and speed work, meaning he was nimble enough to keep this slightly more seasoned Hunter at bay while he got his licks in. He repeated an earlier move by dropping and attempting to sweep kick the enemy, who leaped up and over the attack, but this time Vulcan sprung up and extended his weapon. The lavender Reploid twisted violently, just barely missing the stun blade that would disqualify him from the contest.
All the fighters in the weapons match were evenly matched this time. There were no specific stars or expected winners, though the Reploid called Harrier was supposed to be pretty good, and with him a gunman named Rykov. Both were still in the running, and were under scrutiny from the Hunter leaders, but none knew it.
Also under surveillance was Vulcan himself. The silver plated Reploid was fairly plain in appearance, with nothing special to identify himself as exceptional. However, his entrance exam had been interesting to say the least, and he had already proven that there were plenty of units that might have a use for him.
Zero was the leader of one of the units looking for a good spy, and he knew very well he had priority over the other units. Except X’s, but that was to be expected. The crimson plated hero sat on a balcony overlooking the grounds where the Olympiad was taking place. People below wondered why Commander Zero wasn’t taking part; surely he’d come out on top. Commander X was at least on the grounds, after all. The thought brought a smirk to Zero’s face. He understood somewhat why Sigma had never participated in those early games. As the leader of a big army like this, Zero had way too much to worry about to have this kind of reckless fun. Oh, his position didn’t stop him from getting pissed drunk at the local bar with the others in his unit, but he didn’t see himself doing something like this. ESPECIALLY this.
Security was tight, as well it should be, and everywhere around the HQ was under close watch. Still, Zero knew, if someone wanted to attack the Hunters bad enough, no amount of security could stop them. It didn’t look like anything was going to happen, though. After today the two day fest would be over, and the Hunters would go back to their lives of duty and service.
That last time they had the Olympiad, when his friend had been killed, was shortly before the first big Maverick War. Reploids were going Maverick at a much more rapid rate, and groups of fanatics were emerging who hated humans, rather than the mindless insanity caused by the Maverick defect everyone was accustomed to. These terrorists became freedom fighters of a sort, idols for the rest of their kind, and all seemed lost when Sigma himself defected to their cause, taking most of the Hunter commanders with him. From that day till now, it had been deemed far too dangerous to have any sort of fun, but now, after Sigma’s fourth defeat and the disbarring of Repliforce, things had almost quieted down to the way they were before. In light of that, Cain, at the urging of several “old timers” who remembered these games, decided to revive the tradition. Apparently, Zero thought with a humorless laugh, they’d forgotten what happened last time. But he had to admit, he hadn’t seen his men enjoying themselves this much in a long time, and they deserved it, truthfully. Even if Zero himself couldn’t bring himself to join in their happiness.
They’d never found out who killed Mea, and he’d never found out who the dark Reploid suspect had been. When the confusion had died down and their stories had been told, Sigma had ordered a screening of all his soldiers to see if any leads turned up linking someone to the death of one of his best Hunters. Finding nothing, the frustrated Commander had put all units on heightened alert, seeing the attack as a possible sign from the Mavericks that they were growing in power or preparing for something. That was when the carefree aspects of Hunter life came to an end, and the war actually began for the soldiers, even though they weren’t into any heavy fighting yet.
Zero himself had been interrogated, and he’d told what he’d seen, leaving out the part about his suspect. What was he supposed to say? Tell Sigma that he had no evidence at all that this random guy had killed Mea, but he just knew it was him? The Bald One would just have replied that Zero had sought to blame someone-anyone-and the first stranger he saw became the one he’d focus his rage on, somewhat like a newborn chick attaches themselves to the first thing they see, believing it to be their mother. The Reploid definitely wasn’t his mother, but Zero had hunted him anyway, doing his own private research, but there were hundreds of black armored Reploids in the world and with nothing other than a sketchy physical description that may or may not have changed, finding him had been impossible. Zero had given up the search after the first war, figuring it didn’t matter anymore, especially since odds were the Reploid may not even be alive anymore. After Sigma’s first fortress fell, the humans had initiated somewhat of a crackdown on all Reploids not in the Hunter ranks, perhaps hoping to discourage another Maverick uprising. Since the dark one in question definitely wasn’t a Hunter-Zero’s position and reputation gave him easy access to any Hunter files he wished from any base he wished, and he’d have found him by now-it was a safe bet
he’d disappeared from the land of the living.
And, of course, it just didn’t matter. There had been bigger enemies to fry over the years, and Zero had fried all of them, despite getting fried once himself. Nevertheless, he was still nervous about the whole Olympiad, this event in particular. Since he couldn’t stop it, he’d decided to at least observe it.
The Hunters in the weapons match were mostly the rookies and short term members who still wanted to prove themselves. A lot of the more experienced Hunters weren’t participating, figuring it’d be a little one sided. Among those that perked Zero’s interest were Harrier, a cocky yet effective fighter who might serve as a good diversionist. It wasn’t unheard of for Unit Commanders to have one or more of their troops risk their necks severely to draw the attention of Mavericks away from the main unit, which would accomplish their tasks as quickly as possible and then back their friends up. The problem was that a lot of Hunters didn’t understand what was at stake, and would twiddle their thumbs while their allies ran out of options and got slaughtered. Or, the diversionists would let something get to their heads, usually pride, which Harrier seemed to be full of, and the enemy could easily take advantage of that. Zero used the diversionist tactic often, but his Unit certainly didn’t have a problem with speed. Rykov, the munitions guy, looked like he’d be a good addition to any team needing a heavy duty fighter, but whether he’d be better in a regular unit or with Zero’s special one remained to be seen. Zero’s Hunters, while skilled at all areas of fighting, were usually used in special circumstances like hostage situations or other touchy scenarios, whereas units like X’s Elites were used for all out warfare. That said, its easily understood why Zero was hoping as hard as he could that Vulcan, the speedy, agile swordsman-who also appeared to be fluent in distance rifles, too-would one day fall under his control. He just hoped the kid didn’t get himself blown up before he had enough experience for Zero to recruit him.
“Hey, Zero!”
The champion Hunter turned to see Delates, a member of his Unit, hovering in the doorway leading out to the balcony. The kid had a wide smirk on his face.
“What’s up, Delates?”
“X down there, he’s got a proposition for ya.”
Zero was smirking himself already. “What is it this time?”
“See those guys down there fightin’? X says he knows who’s gonna come out on top, and he’d wager fifty bucks on it.”
“Of course…” the commander said to himself. Delates loved bets, which explained the smirk on his face. It also told Zero that his emerald colored sniper had already made bets with other members of the Unit on which Commander would win the bet. Betting on the outcome of a bet, there was a new one… “Which one of those children does he have in mind?”
“Rykov.” The compact Reploid had slunk into the room and now leaned back on a wall, regarding his commander with an anxious expression. “He installed the stun chip in his chain gun. Ry’s pals say he’s gonna use a single burst until the big mob scene that is the final round, and mow everyone down.” A big smile covered Delates’s face. “You say differently?”
How could he not? “Rykov, eh? It’s a good choice, but…” he tilted his head up as though thinking. “X needs to pay more attention to detail. Rykov’s got his advantages, but he doesn’t have enough speed. I’m gonna go with…” Vulcan or Harrier? The spy or the diversion? “Vulcan. The silver kid who just took out his opponent.”
“Good, then!” Delates said as he shoved off the wall, rushing for the door. “I’ll give X your blessings, ‘O Secluded One.”
“Give him a message, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Fifty bucks is chump change. I’m raising it to a hundred.”
Delates nodded and sped back down to rejoin his pals, whether to report to X or to make bets with the said pals, Zero didn’t know. Suddenly there was a pang of doubt. He turned back to the games and fixed Vulcan with a look. “Oh, you better not blow it now, pal.”
In another part of town, far away from the craziness surround MHHQ, two men walked down the deserted streets, talking in small voices. Both were Reploids, but they wore large coats that concealed what armor they still had on, making them look like nothing out of the ordinary. There was no one around to see or hear them anyway, but they were cautious nonetheless.
“I go by the saying,” one was saying to the other, the speaker an unimposing Reploid who, underneath his heavy coat, had attire that matched that of a camouflaged soldier, the listener a short guy whose armor was a very dark blue, “that if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is. Your little proposition looks like it falls into this category, my friend.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” the short one said simply, “You came to me, remember?”
“Based on your claims. Before we agree to let you do this, we want to make sure we’re not
hiring some quack. This is a one shot deal, as you know.”
“Hey, like I said, I don’t know any of this stuff. What I can do is get you through to my guy, and he knows everything there is to know about their computer systems. This all important file will be his in no time, even though it seems like a needle-in-haystack ordeal to us.”
“Well speed is good,” the taller one said as they neared a small, poorly maintained tavern, “Because we don’t have much time, and we also don’t have much to go by.”
“Hmm. Well if there’s not a lot of info for him to start with, then it might take slightly longer…”
“Of course.”
“It’s good you understand…”
“You know,” the taller one said as he came to a brief stop, looking around as though taking in the weather, “I hate talking like this. Like we’re enemies trying to form a truce.”
“Agreed. It’s a shame things are the way they are now.”
“I hope I haven’t conveyed anything like a threat to you. We certainly don’t punish our men for not being able to assist in a specialized area. But if this hacker is what you say he is…”
“He’s the best I know of,” the shorter one said honestly. “And he’s on our side. There are probably better hackers than him, sure, but they’re Hunters, and unless you want to risk a big fuss if you try converting one of them…”
“I understand. But still, I’ll want to meet with this man, someplace subtle. You can come if you wish. I just need to be sure he’s the right man, and to do that I have to meet him. This file is under the most classified label the Hunters have, but if there’s ever been a time where they won’t be keeping a close eye on it, it’s now.”
“I understand,” the shorter guy said as he stepped into the bar, turning to face his co-conspirator one last time. “I’ll set something up. How will I get word to you?”
“I’ll make it easy. Leave me a sign somewhere around here, and show up the next night.”
The short one nodded and disappeared into the filthy building, while the Reploid in camouflaged armor strode back towards his vehicle anxiously. He glanced everywhere to make sure no one was following him, and entered the simple car unnoticed. As he drove off to his relay point, he wondered enthusiastically if he’d finally knocked over the first domino in the process that would bring his faction back to power, and enable his personal revenge. God, he hoped so.
Vulcan inhaled deeply. He’d made it. Standing around him were five other Reploids who’d won the honor of being in this final round. There were two Reploids he didn’t know, a gold one and a tan one, and they were the least of his worries. Harrier, the cocky son of a bitch who’d proven to be quite effective with the pistol he carried into battle, was surveying his enemies like a royal lord might survey his property. Ass hole. He’d be the first to go, Vulcan decided, just out of spite. Next would be Rykov, who stood quietly, his strong frame draped over his beloved chain gun. Till now, the gun had fired single bullets, but the grin in Rykov’s eyes said he had something up his sleeve. He knew Rykov and Harrier already, and had established a fast friendship with the former. The latter he didn’t like that much, obviously. He knew the last fighter, too. He was a tall Reploid in heavy black armor. His name, fittingly, was Nightchaser, and he too was an ass hole. To Vulcan, anyway. Nightchaser had something against the silver rookie, and being slightly higher on the rank ladder, it was easy for Nightchaser, or Chase, as his friends so lovingly called him, to make Vulcan’s life miserable. Vulcan decided, no, he wouldn’t go after Harrier just yet. He’d wanted to screw Nightchaser over for the longest time, and this was his chance. He didn’t look at his superior directly, so Chase had no idea what was about to come his way, and fortunately for Vulcan, he was not Chase’s first target. The tall Hunter was fixing Rykov with a look, probably thinking to get him out of the running before he started shooting his chain gun.
Clutching his saber tightly, Vulcan waited for the blank round to fire, signifying the beginning of the match. It came, and before the echo of the bang had died in the wind, Vulcan had dashed clear across the arena and intercepted Nightchaser with a good hard swing as the higher ranked Hunter was making a break for Rykov. Chase gave him a bewildered look as he crumpled to the floor stunned, but the look soon changed to one of pure hate. Vulcan didn’t see it, though, because he was fending off the tan Reploid he didn’t know. His sudden attack had caught everyone off guard, but the tan guy had been the first to react, swinging his own saber Vulcan’s way. The silver Hunter countered the blow and threw his feet up into the tan Hunter’s chest, sending him flying back. The tan guy was prepared to land on his feet and make another rush, but before he even touched the ground he had been shot by a round from Harrier’s pistol. Harrier, a Reploid in royal blue armor, had his weapon leveled at Vulcan, a triumphant smirk already plastered on his face. It vanished, though, when Harrier went down in a heap, caught from behind by a stun blast from Rykov’s gun…LOTS of stun blasts from Rykov’s gun. The demolitions and munitions fan was standing calmly, unloading his charges at the two remaining fighters, Vulcan and the gold Reploid.
The rules of the weapons match clearly stated that each combatant could only bring one weapon into battle…they didn’t say a damn thing about improvising DURING the battle, though. Taking advantage of that loophole, Vulcan threw himself to the ground as rounds from Rykov screamed past where his head had just been, springing towards Harrier’s prone form and reaching out for the pistol the stunned Reploid held limply in his hand. There was no way he could get close enough to Rykov to damage him with his saber, so loophole or not, Vulcan figured as he cast his sword to the ground, this was his last resort.
Rykov staggered as though physically struck, realizing too late what Vulcan was going to do. Stopping his wide spray of fire and ignoring the still active gold Reploid also, he fired blind, frantic rounds at Vulcan, just as the silver rookie in one fluid motion snatched Harrier’s pistol, brought it up, and fired a single shot. Both combatants reeled, the force of the stun blasts like a heavy punch, collapsing into stiff heaps at the exact same time.
The officials fired a blank round again, signifying the end of the match. The gold Reploid, a fairly decent rookie, was declared the winner. One of the Hunter medics went around to the stunned fighters, administering the surge that nullified the effects of the stun chip implanted in their weapons. The fighters themselves then proceeded to remove the said chips from their weapons, returning them to the medics before leaving the arena. Vulcan thought to go congratulate the winner, but the gold guy had already wandered off, making no big deal of his victory. At least he wasn’t gonna be big headed about it, Vulcan thought, looking over towards Harrier, who was explaining to his group of acquaintances the 101 perfectly good reasons why he’d been cheated.
“Hey.”
Vulcan turned sharply to see Rykov, who met him with a lopsided grin.
“Hey. Interesting, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess…” Rykov laughed softly, wiping some dust off his big weapon. “You’re a son of a bitch. You know that, right?”
Vulcan laughed. “I did what I had to do, man. Not my fault you’re a one man army.”
“Yeah, well, you’re still a son of a bitch.” Rykov grinned and looked towards the gathering of Hunters from their particular squad of rookies. “They’ll be collecting bets, now. Wonder how THAT will work?”
Vulcan laughed again. Pity the poor bastards who had to sort out bets on either of them.
“I don’t believe this!” Delates all but wailed, “What the hell do we do now?!”
“How much did you guys bet?!” Zero asked, still getting over the irony of the situation himself.
“We put a lotta money on you, sir!” said Sol, one of Zero’s demolitions experts, “We trusted your superior judgment!”
“Thank you, Sol. If your nose were any browner, it’d turn to chocolate.” Zero grinned wickedly, looking through his soldiers to see Megaman X standing in the doorway with the same strange look on his face that the rest of them had. “How bout it, X. How do we figure THIS one out?”
“I dunno,” X shrugged. The famous hero of the Hunters looked over Sol and Delates, then to Alia, a member of his own unit. Alia was an up and coming Huntress. Currently she wasn’t wearing any armor, but she did have a fiery red suit in her quarters. She could hold her own in a battle, but she was more suited to being a spotter for the 17th Unit, and so that’s what she mainly did. X was known as one of the two Master Hunters, but he was also known as the kinder, gentler Master Hunter. Lately, though, he’d finally let Zero teach him the joys of tormenting his troops. “I say you and I just forget about it. Vulcan and Rykov went down at the same time, so neither made it.” He gestured to the underlings. “They bet on us, though, and since they all lost, I say they donate it all to the treasury.”
“What?!” Sol, Delates, and Alia all squeaked at once.
“Ha!” Zero laughed, deciding to add on. “Yeah, someone’s gotta collect. That’s how bets work, right Delates?”
“Uh…well, sir…this wasn’t no normal bet, sir!” Delates stammered, not quite sure if his superiors were serious about all this.
“How wasn’t it?” X asked.
“Wha-come on, you saw it!”
No one spoke for a few seconds. Eventually the three elites began to scrunch up their faces in annoyance, not wanting to go through with this.
“Oh Jesus,” Zero finally said with a snicker, “You guys sure can sweat.”
“You mean…” Delates sighed audibly, “I didn’t think you were serious, but you…oooh!”
“Damn men…” Alia said, trying to hide a smirk of her own as she pushed past X and out the door.
“You guys are something else,” Sol said with an embarrassed grin, “Real creeps.” He looked at X. “Kinder, gentler Master Hunter, my ass!”
X laughed and moved out of the way as the two Hunters left, leaving their commanders to talk alone.
“You all right?” X finally asked of his long time friend.
“Feh, there was never anything to worry about.” Zero shook his head and gazed down at the Hunters below, who were enjoying whatever spirits were left in the coolers before they had to turn in for the night. “I just can’t help but be a little nervous.”
“Well I can imagine…” X had still been on his anti-violence spree when word came to him from Cain that one of their best Hunters had been killed in their free time games. He hadn’t joined the Hunters or much less met Zero until a long time later, and was quite shocked when his friend had told him one day that the murdered Hunter had been a good friend of his. Truth be told, X thought Zero would be a lot more paranoid than this, but the crimson Hunter had just sat up here all day, watching like a hawk. Probably thinking about new recruits, X knew, and had to smile. Even in peacetime, Zero’s mind was always stuck on war, and he was always improving his unit just in case. He’d been right all three times so far, X knew, so there wasn’t anything bad to it.
“But,” Zero said as he himself moved towards the door, “Nothing’s happened, the winner is alive, and no one’s out any money. Couldn’t be better, actually.”
“So where are you going?”
Zero gave half a laugh, as though the answer were obvious as sunrise. “I’ve been cooped up here all day. I’m hitting the bar.”
I SO should have seen that coming, X thought as he started after his fellow Commander. But what the hell, I haven’t gotten good and drunk in ages.