Past Prologue

Sigma kept his word, and X’s access code allowed him to visit Dr. Cain and that monster in Lab 44 whenever he wished. Dr. Cain was present for most of the time, a fact that worried X greatly considering the doctor’s age. X also knew that despite that, research was where Dr. Cain’s heart and soul lay, and rarely mentioned his concern while the doctor was so engrossed. X noted with some irony as well that it was the most X had seen of Dr. Cain since his retirement.

Also ironic was the fact that X started to look forward to his visits. Every time X went to see Dr. Cain, he would also view the progress of the doctor’s reconstruction of the red Maverick and make note of his improved specs and appearance. Every time there would be a new piece added, and it made X feel like he was watching a plant grow, and he felt a pride similar to seeing that plant gradually mature.

“Why, he’s as remarkable as you are,” Dr. Cain would sometimes say. He sounded more excited than X would have liked, but his scientific curiosity was infectious. X soon began to work for the doctor as an unofficial assistant, and for longer and longer periods, until the doctor would tell him to leave and get some rest.

One event in particular, though, disrupted X’s ability to find any rest for some time thereafter. While X helped the doctor, it was not infrequently that X would come in direct contact with the Maverick, either to change input and output connections, take readings, or some other basic but essential task. It was during these routine tasks that X’s sympathetic systems nearly overloaded. At the time, X was having some minor difficulty in swapping some of the connections through the jungle of wires connecting to the Maverick’s cranium. X was leaning over, with his face very close to the Maverick’s, trying to finger his way around the mess of cables.

Suddenly, the Maverick’s eyes snapped open.

X yelped, and his mind blanked with fright. He noticed a moment later that he had fallen back onto the floor, and he remained there as Dr. Cain turned around at a computer terminal.

“X! What happened?” Dr. Cain questioned.

“His, his eyes!” X said, pointing. The Maverick was still staring, though appeared to be making no further movement.

“Oh, X,” Dr. Cain said, sighing with relief. “He’s been doing that a lot lately. It’s merely a reflex—a random, involuntary motor impulse.” Dr. Cain turned back around and continued, “It’s actually a good sign for his health, for it means that his systems are responding well to our repair efforts.”

As the doctor explained the phenomenon, X composed himself and rose to his feet. He approached the Maverick cautiously, his apprehension giving way to curiosity. He was still creeped out, and not yet ready to continue the task he was previously trying to accomplish, so he studied the Maverick in stillness and quiet. He believed the doctor, but while examining closer, he noticed that the Maverick’s hazel-colored pupils were dilating and closing erratically. X considered that it may merely be the effect of additional glitches and readjustments in the Maverick’s buses and processing units, but it also appeared that the Maverick was consciously trying to see.

“Just close his eyelids yourself if it bothers you too much, X,” Dr. Cain said. For the first day, X did just that. He gently used two fingers to pull the lids closed, and then resumed his work in peace.

After that point, X came to learn how serious Dr. Cain had been about the Maverick’s spontaneous eyelids. They were popping open without warning more frequently until it became a daily occurrence, and usually when X came within close proximity to the Maverick. The quirk was something X had to get used to, and although he continued to shut the eyelids when he wanted to work, he also found a perverse humor in the ritual. X sometimes let the Maverick stare off into space, and X would smile and chat with him as if he were awake.

“You know,” X would say, leaning with his elbow on the capsule edge and resting his chin in his palm. “Maybe you ought to switch to decaf, Mr. Red,” X then waved a hand in front of the Maverick’s face and giggled.

“X…” Dr. Cain warned, but chuckled himself at X’s silliness.

The amusement X enjoyed with the Maverick turned out to be a welcome break from his growing concern about his commander’s behavior. Sigma seemed to change dramatically since the day he brought the Maverick in, and even more disconcerting was that either the other officers didn’t notice, or they chose not to mention it. It was subtle to be sure, and X doubted himself on occasion, but certainly it seemed that Sigma was not only becoming more prone to flying off the handle, but would chew out other officers with personal attacks rather than with professional corrections. A couple of new recruits had quit after receiving a long, searing earful from him over simple mistakes in training. Recruits quitting over something like that had no precedent in their precinct’s history.

Even Sigma’s more light-hearted remarks—if you could call them that—had always been sardonic, but lately they had taken on a cruel taint, as if Sigma weren’t kidding when, for example, he joked about humans getting what they deserved for creating Reploids. Feeling alone with his doubts and having nothing more to go on but his bad feeling, X took no action and continued doing his duty as normal.

One day, X visited the lab after being relieved, and came to find Sigma present as well.

“Good, X, I was hoping you would show up today,” Sigma said.

“Why is that, sir?” X asked. X observed the red Maverick’s progress like he usually did, and was surprised to see that he looked mostly complete, with much of the original wiring and life support systems having been stripped away. His broad shoulders and golden markings gave him the air of grace, power, and purpose that X both admired and feared.

“Because today is the day we break the spell on Sleeping Beauty here.”

X tensed and his throat went bone dry at Sigma’s statement. Although X was used to the Maverick by now, he still very much preferred that he remain asleep. X looked toward Dr. Cain and asked, “You approve?”

“I’m afraid so, X,” Dr. Cain said. “In all my years and education, I am still at a loss as to the full extent of this specimen’s capabilities. I can’t even say that we directly repaired him, for all of his damaged motor, limbic, and cognitive functions were gradually restored on their own. All we have been doing is feeding him the energy he needs.” Dr. Cain sighed. “It has only been a short time, but the tests I’ve been able to do in order to determine his exact engineering have provided no clues. The way his DNA interacts with his nanomachines is still a mystery to me, at least while he remains in stasis. I’m hoping that by reviving him, we can shed some light on it. Although I dare say it’s as if he’s missing a significant part of himself, but that won’t be clear until we can see how he performs while conscious.”

X nodded, understanding as well as he could, but still believing that there was everything wrong with what they were doing. Synthadrenaline coursed through him, making him anxious.

“X, you and I will stay in here while the doctor reverses sedation. We will be the only security in case he is still violent,” Sigma said. He then smirked. “I understand if you refuse, however. He gave me two black eyes, after all.”

“My own safety is not what I’m afraid of,” X said, rising to the challenge. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Sigma smiled at him before saying, “Good, that’s what I like to hear. Alright, be on your guard. Doc, let’s fire ‘im up.”

Dr. Cain nodded, saying “I will cancel his inhibitors remotely. I also want to precaution you that this lab is equipped with powerful electromagnetic pulse emitters that I can activate remotely as well in case anything goes wrong. The pulse does no permanent damage, but is powerful enough to incapacitate most large mechaniloids. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do to guard you two from the effects if we absolutely have to use it.”

“Understood,” X said. Sigma nodded.

“But I ask that you do your best to keep that scenario from happening. The longer the specimen stays conscious, the more data I can collect,” Dr. Cain finished.

“Roger,” X said in a lower tone. He could not believe he was about to finally meet this Maverick.

Dr. Cain nodded, then turned to exit. The door swished shut and bolted, and X’s energy grew with every silent minute the passed. He retracted his right hand into his buster—arming himself just in case—while he stared at the red Maverick, fully alert to any sign of life that would soon develop. Soon enough, the eyelids of the Maverick began to twitch and flutter, signaling the gradual recovery of his senses and awareness. In the dim room, X made out the eerie glow of irises from the Maverick who, after having opened his eyes fully, tilted his head and met X’s petrified stare head-on.

Like a rogue bot caught in searchlights, X was frozen in place by the Maverick’s unnerving glare, not unlike what the Maverick had been capable of while comatose. The Maverick’s eyes now were capable of sweeping over him, seeming more curious than hostile, though X was no less relieved when his gaze left him to glance at Sigma.

Unfortunately, it was in the moment he saw Sigma that the Maverick bore his fangs. With laserlike speed, the Maverick pounced from his capsule toward Sigma, ready to take his life with his bare hands. His persona was positively feral, a stark contrast to how angelic he seemed to X while he slumbered for so many weeks. Additionally, it was the first time X noticed the extraordinary length of blonde hair sprouting from the Maverick’s helmet.

However, there was no moment to dwell on the spectacle, for Sigma caught the Maverick at by his wrists. The latter quaked with intent to kill. The Maverick also seemed to have no grasp of language, uttering only low growls and hisses like a wild animal. X moved to intervene, but stopped when Sigma said, “Stay back, X.” He then called, “Hey Doc, how are the readings?”

“We’re getting them, Sigma, but I’m going to need more time. Can you hold him?” Dr. Cain responded from the intercom.

“No sweat,” Sigma said. “He sure is as feisty as I recall, though.”

X was at a loss, both in what to say and how to act as he watched his Commander struggle to keep his own death at bay. Would X then be next? No, Dr. Cain would intervene before then, wouldn’t he? Nothing was certain, and his thoughts caved in on themselves when the Maverick roared and X heard something snap.

Sparks cascaded from Sigma’s left arm, a tear appearing at the seam where his replaced limb had been attached. Sigma howled in pain. The Maverick cackled as he wrenched the rest of the limb off in one swift tug. The Maverick snorted in amusement, tossing the limb aside as sparks and oil spilled from the wound. For the first time, X saw genuine fright on his Commander’s face.

“No!” X yelled, and before he could think about it, he leapt behind the Maverick, wrapping one arm under one of his shoulders and the other around his waist. The Maverick grunted, frustrated by the restraint, and violently twisted in an attempt to shake X off. X planted his feet firmly and held on tight, though it was all he could do to keep the slightly bigger Maverick from tossing him like a ragdoll.

“You got him, X? Just a few more moments, please!” Dr. Cain called. Sigma meanwhile had slumped to the floor, cradling his wound, yet appeared darkly amused by the situation.

“You ought to be more grateful, you rusted bucket of scrap,” Sigma then said, rising to his feet. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be ground up and forgotten in some junkyard by now!”

And in a move that stunned both X and the struggling Maverick, Sigma buried a punch square into the Maverick’s abdomen, just above X’s arm. X felt the force ripple through his own gut, and could hardly imagine what the Maverick had felt. Apparently though, it had been enough to momentarily put a stop to his struggling in X’s grip.

“Oh? Where did that hunger for violence go?” Sigma taunted, bending over to look the Maverick in the eye. “Don’t you wanna see me dead? And what about X there? You were created only to destroy, weren’t you?”

The Maverick heaved, still staggering from the blow. Sigma’s taunting made X recall his words weeks ago. Perhaps this wasn’t his fault. Maybe he was in misery, just like the rest of the world. Also, maybe he didn’t just want to kill, for he had chosen not to attack X first. As X’s sympathy got the best of him, he buried his cheek in the Maverick’s thick mane and hoped this would not end badly for him. Never did he think that one day, he would be concerned about a Maverick’s welfare.

“You can’t even speak, can you? That proves that you aren’t meant to exist in a civilized world,” Sigma said. He then brought his fist back again and cracked it across the Maverick’s cheek. He brought his fist across the other cheek as well. He raised his hand to strike him again and again. The endless, pointless violence was more than X’s spirit could take.

“Stop!” X shouted, releasing the Maverick to step in between them. He shielded the Maverick with outstretched arms and a defiant countenance, saying, “I’m sorry, sir, but that is enough! We can’t punish him for the way he is. You said it once yourself, that Reploids shouldn’t have to fight one another!”

“X, are you standing up for a Maverick? I never thought I would see it!” Sigma roared, lowering his fist. Sanity seemed to waver in his Commander’s eyes as the conflict escalated, and X hoped Dr. Cain would fry them all right then and there.

“Give me a break, X! That heart of yours is so pure that you believe even a Maverick like him deserves a chance? Garma must be spinning in his grave. No wonder you only made it to B rank. I thought you were different, X, but you’re a fool, just like everyone else in the damned place!” Sigma went on. “Now get out of the way!”

X remained unflinching against the harsh torrent of words, more concerned now than ever that the reploid behind him be left alone. As of that moment, the Maverick disturbed X less than the enraged Class S officer before him.

“X…” X heard from behind him. X’s eyes widened in disbelief that the Maverick would utter his name, but before he could turn around, a pair of hands grabbed him and he felt himself being lifted off of his feet.

X was sure he was dead. He was sure that he had been wrong and that the Maverick would tear him in half with one pull. His fear turned to confusion, however, when the Maverick carried him to the stasis capsule and gently placed him inside. He looked up at the Maverick’s soft yet blank face, and watched as he tapped at the control console. The forcefield switched on, sealing X inside.

“Hey!” X called. “What…?”

X could not see what happened next through the forcefield, but could hear it clearly. Sigma said, “Hah! What a marvel you are. You kill indiscriminately, but suddenly decide to protect him? You crazy Maverick! Stay away from me! Doc! Throw it!”

X flinched as a loud buzz and a humming reverberated through the room, followed by the sound of heavy collapse metal bodies to the floor. Dead silence followed, from which X deduced that the EMP did its job. X felts his whole body tingle, yet the forcefield of the stasis capsule seemed to have protected his vital circuits from its effects. He briefly wondered if the Maverick knew of this outcome, but even if he hadn’t, it was no less astonishing that the Maverick would ensure his safety like he had.

“Oh my goodness,” X then heard Dr. Cain say. “This was a bad idea. What a mess.”

The forcefield released, revealing the doctor to X as well as the state of the two other Reploids. They had both crumpled to the floor separate in heaps.

“Oh, X, you’re still awake! I’m very glad the capsule protected you,” Dr. Cain said.

X said nothing, but suddenly threw his arms around the old man and hugged him.

“I’m sorry, X,” Dr. Cain whispered, accepting the hug and patting X on the back. “I’m sorry for making you do this.”

“It’s okay,” X said, releasing him. “Now let me help you get them back online.”