A.N. This is a story that's brewing in my head for a while now.

It's a pretty much all OC story, though there are several references to the Blue Blur. Some canon characters might have a few cameos, but it is possible that some of the lesser known canon characters could show up for longer points of time.

All of these OCs are mine, and should not be used without permission from me. If anyone wants to allude to them for some odd reason, feel free too, and drop me a line to where so I can check it out.

Anyways, this story follows the young Martin Meerkat, a high schooler, who's for the most part, had a normal life. But when a tragedy strikes, and an evil crime boss makes a bid for power, he'll find out something extraordinary, and rise to the challenge.

I hope you enjoy this.

Warning. Some crude language, and definite violence. Not to be taken lightly, k?

"The supplies are in, Mr. Pottomus," a gruff voice mumbled, coming from a hairy gorilla, nodding respectfully to the large figure lounging in a small pool. Well, small for Mr. Pottomus.

"Excellent," the voice of Mr. Pottomus said, smoking a lavish and expansive cigar, "Make sure it's distributed amongst the populace. Just a bite, and they'll be hooked, crawling to us to get more, at such…" Mr. Pottomus paused, then tapped his cigar over the edge, letting the ashes fall to red carpet, where a timid mouse stepped forward silently to clean it up before it stained.

"At such…'fair' prices," Mr. Pottomus chuckled, still lounging within the shadows of his pool.

"Err…boss?" the gorilla wondered, scratching his head.

"Sigh…what is it?" Mr. Pottomus wondered, taking a long drab from his cigar.

"I thoughts we were going to charge extrav…extrav…" the gorilla paused, forhead wrinkling as he wrestled with the word, then just gave up, "Really high prices…?"

"Of course, you dumb ape. I was dabbling in a bit of ironic humor," Mr. Pottomus answered with a frown.

"Wha?"

"I was not being serious."

A long pause.

"I made a funny."

"Oh! Very good boss! Hahahaha!" the gorilla said, then began laughing, slapping his knees.

"Now, get on your way. I have work to do, as do you. The Festival of Apples will begin in a few days," Mr. Pottomus said, waving away the gorilla, who happily wandered off.

Mr. Pottomus rifled by the pool, and pulled out a large melon, placing it into his jaws and crunching down, swallowing with his large hippo head.

"Hmmm…Not quite ripe…" Mr. Pottomus mused, "I suppose it's not quite melon season as it is."

"I'm not so sure about this Frankie…" a young meerkat said, following a dark green goose down an alleyway.

"Come on Martin," the goose known as Frankie said, "Don't be lame. Everyone else is trying it, and besides, the first sample doesn't cost a thing. Don't like it, you don't lose anything."

"Still…I mean, my folks aren't to keen on all this stuff. I think maybe I should just go home…" Martin said, his blue shoes coming to a halt, looking nervous, "You know?"

"No, I don't," Frankie sighed, shaking his beaked head, "Listen, go home if you want, but don't tell anyone I came here, okay?"

"I won't," Martin answered, holding up his hands, "You know I wouldn't rat you out Frankie. See you at the Festival of Apples tomorrow?"

"You bet! And hey, maybe Sonic will show up! I heard he was seen last year," Frankie the goose grinned, walking off, "I know you look up to those heroes."

Martin grinned and walked off, wondering what it would be like to have super speed like Sonic. It would probably be a lot of fun.

"Man…" Martin said, glancing to the side and taking careful consideration to not to stray close to the canal. He had lived in Soleanna all his life, and he couldn't swim. He always sank like a stone, so he had long since given up on it. "I wish I was a hero…"

Besides, his hero, Sonic the Hedgehog couldn't swim, and he got along fine.

It was the next day, Martin seemed nervous. Since it was the Festival of Apples, school was canceled for the day. Not that Martin didn't know what to do with himself. He was like most every other student, looking forward to the Festival with glee. Since it was on a Friday this year, it meant most of the parents would let their kids stay up late. Martin's parent's were not an exception.

Besides, it was barely three in the afternoon. It was barely beginning, but Frankie was half an hour late already, and Frankie was never late.

"Where is he?" Martin grumbled, pacing back and forth, looking around and trying to spot the green goose. "This isn't like him…"

Martin paused, seeing a group of students he vaguely recognized from school head in his general direction. He tried to peer over their heads to see if Frankie was behind them.

"Hey, did you hear?" one of them said to the other, the group busy in conversation with themselves, "That new stuff The Hips are giving out are good stuff. One kid hocked a lot of his stuff to get some more, since they only give out the first sample."

"Yah man," another said with a drawl, "That stuffs shit, yah. Cost lot though after first sample."

"Never thought that that one kid would get hooked though man," the first speaker said, "Doesn't fit the…" he snickered, "bill."

The group chuckled at the joke, Martin pausing as he glanced towards them. Frankie was not behind them.

"Washis name?" a third in the group wondered, "Hangs out with whosit…"

"Frankie something, I think," the first person answered, then coughed loudly, wiping his mouth with his ragged sleeve.

Martin froze, turning slowly to the group as they passed by him, and headed into a nearby alleyway, sniggering to themselves.

"No…it couldn't be…" Martin murmured slowly. But a thought crept in his head, "What if it was…?"

Martin gulped, shaking his head. This couldn't be happening. This kinda thing happened to other people. Frankie was a good guy. He couldn't have…But still, if it was true, well, Martin needed to find him and help him. That's what he needed to do.

Getting a determined looked on his face, he twisted about and headed to the alleyway, but hit something and stepped backwards, wondering what he collided with.

"Watch it sonny!" a voice growled, and Martin felt something poke him roughly in the chest.

Martin glanced downwards and sighed. It was John Opossum, an eccentric old man who lived on the same street as Martin himself. He was a survivalist, a former G.U.N. soldier (and rumored assassin), and always thought that everyone else should jump to attention when he passed by.

"Oh, sorry Mr. Opossum," Martin said hurriedly, trying to maneuver around the old man to follow the group of kids from before.

"What's yah hurrying for lad?" John gruffed. He was, as his name suggested, an Opossum Mobian, and his fur was gruff and disheveled. John wore a dark green vest, it's pockets filled with various items, and he seemed to be leaning against the cane. This, however, was a ruse as many would-be muggers found out, thinking they found an easy steal. John Opossum might be old and retired, but he had retired from a life that you had to be tough to survive. Some punks with a knife couldn't hold a candle to him.

"Never should hurry," John continued, before Martin could open his mouth, "Best thing to do is to take your time, believe me, I should know."

"Listen, Mr. Opossum, no offense, but I really need to find my friend…" Martin pleaded, hopping up and down between feet, growing anxious.

"Alright, alright lad, just watch where you're goin' next time, see?" John said, poking Martin with his cane one last time, then stepped out of the way.

Martin ran forward, thanking John Opossum and racing down the alleyway.

John rubbed his chin with a frown.

"Hmmm…Worried about a friend? Good lad," John muttered to himself, "Never leave a fallen comrade."

He turned to leave, then paused, glancing towards the alleyway. Gripping his cane, he headed down it, shuffling at his own pace.

"Only been a couple of days boss, and look how much money we's got!" the gorilla lackey said, hauling in a sack and depositing it by the small pool which held one Mr. Pottomus. A clipboard was also held under the gorilla's arm.

Mr. Pottomus sighed, looking at the sack, "We put the money in the bank, like all good citizens, you dimwit. Not keep them in large sacks."

"Oh, er, right sir. I'll get right on that. And we have the figures to. According to our numbers guy, we've gotten at least fifteen…per…per…" the gorilla paused, his forehead wrinkling as he glanced at the clipboard, not sure what this odd word was.

"Percent?" Mr. Pottomus supplied, sighing softly and leaning back in his pool. He'd replaced this dumb ape with someone smarter, but he found that the stupid ones tended to be more loyal, and less likely to try to stab you in the back.

He grinned, remembering the last person who had tried doing that. The police had been unable to identify the sliced and crushed body.

"Yah, that's it!" the gorilla said happily, "Fifteen…percent…" he sounded out the word carefully, as if it was a dangerous bomb, "of the students from dat school."

"Hmmm…Not as much as I hoped, but perhaps we'll get more before the climax when it matters. Now, no rumors of anything that might put a stop into our plans?"

"No sir!" the gorilla said, "None of yar guys spotted anything suspicious."

"So no Sonic? Eggman? G.U.N.?"

"Nots that we know, sir."

"Well make sure. I don't want something to interrupt my plans. If something does…Well then, their will be a price to pay," Mr. Pottomus said, his large jaws crushing into a melon, swallowing hungrily.

"Right sir!" the gorilla said, then hurried out of the room.

"And bring that money to the bank, you buffoon!" Mr. Pottomus shouted after him.

A sly figure was hidden in the shadows, despite his red fedora hat.

He grinned, watching the crowds. No one paid him any attention.

"Well, well…I think this place is going to be fun."

If someone had been paying attention to him, they would have then realized he was no longer there.

Martin paused, sitting down on a couple steps, breathing deeply and catching his breath. He had lost those other students, and was finding himself lost in the intricate alleyways of Soleanna City.

"Man…wish I could run like Sonic now…" Martin said once he caught his breath. He glanced around and listened, trying to see if he could hear the students, or, well, anything.

It was quiet, as everyone was going to the Festival of Apples.

"Come on Frankie…" Martin muttered, then headed off again, choosing random directions.

The sun began to set after another fruitless hour of running about, and Martin was about to give up when he heard noises.

Cursing, profanities, and other such sounds indicated it was a large group of kids roughly Martin's age. Stepping back into a corner and hiding in the shadows, a large flux of students passed by him, all holding a piece of green…strips. Martin saw one of them bite into it, roll his eyes in happiness and murmur.

"Good shit, huh?" one of the voices said, getting several nods.

Once they passed, Martin stepped out of the shadows where he had been hiding. Frankie had not been in that ground. Glancing towards where they came from, he saw a large, dusty warehouse, sitting amongst other dusty warehouses, near the edge of Soleanna. The ocean would be on the other side of them.

Gulping, the young meerkat stepped forward, poking his head into the warehouse and looking around.

In the corner, surrounded by several green wrappers, half of a green strip in his mouth was Frankie the Goose, Martin's friend. Martin stepped forward hurriedly.

"Fra-" Martin began, but clammed up when two figures emerged from the backroom, apparently in argument. He couldn't tell who they were. One looked human though, it's height and stature.

Ducking behind some barrels, Martin breathed in deeply, gulping as he heard the figures talk.

"What do we do this this kid?" one them wondered. Martin could only assume they meant Frankie.

"Eh, leave him. He's no use to anyone know. How much of it has he has?" the second voice inquired.

"I'm not sure, but I'm surprised he's not dead yet from all of it. I wonder why it's so much more addictive to him then the others, though," the first voice shrugged.

"Well Mr. Pottomus want's the warehouse free of people before the hour's up," the second voice added, "So let's just dump in the canals. Just another druggie kid who stumbled in and didn't think enough to swim."

"But he's a goose, they're natural swimmers," the first voice said, "Hard sell."

"No it ain't. Otter kid drowned a month, remember? All over the news," the second voice answered, "Now help me move him."

There was some grunting, and a terrified Martin scurried deeper into the shadows as the two figures lifted Frankie and brought him outside, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them.

The taller one was a human, and a pretty ordinary looking one. The other seemed to a mongoose mobian.

"Right, let's just dump him in the canal…" the human said.

"NO!" Martin yelled, charging out of the warehouse, tackling the mongoose, both of them going down in a roll of fur.

The mongoose hissed and punched quickly, and Martin stumbled back.

The mongoose grunted, waving his hand. He figured he must of have hit a bone on accident. That punch hurt.

Martin reeled though, and the human sighed, pulling out a gun and leveling it at Martin.

The meerkat gulped, stepping backwards, then paused when he felt the edge. Any farther and he would fall in, and he could not swim.

"Great…death by bullet, drowning, or maybe both…" Martin thought to himself.

"….arrrrrgghhhHHHHH!!" a voice yelled, startling the man, and Frankie seemed to have found some sense of himself, pushing himself upwards and tackling the man, sending the gun flying and hitting the stones behind them.

The mongoose hissed and advanced, but Martin charged again, throwing an awkward, but lucky, punch and sending the mongoose sprawling.

The man shoved Frankie off of him, who became limp once more.

"Frankie, come on!" Martin yelled, hauling his friend up, grunting from the effort and trying to pull him away.

The man turned and saw his dropped gun, running to it and picking it up.

He inspected it, making sure it was in proper working order, then turned to Martin and Frankie.

Frankie was green, and in front of Martin, an easy target.

He fired.

There was blood, and Martin gasped, Frankie going limp, red liquid seeping from his body. Martin let go and stumbled, almost falling into the canal.

He looked up, eyes wide as the man held up his gun calmly, staring at Martin.

"Nothin' personal kid."

He fired, and Martin fell into the canal…

A.N. The first part is done. When will part two appear? Not sure, depends on when I get it done. This story will be updated whenever I feel the next part is good enough to go.

We've seen a number of characters, Martin, Frankie, John, Mr. Pottomus, the so far nameless gorilla assistant, the unknown human and mongoose who work for Mr. Pottomus, and this mysterious figure with the red fedora hat.

I do not own Sonic and all related titles, but these characters and this idea belongs to me.