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Sonic the Hedgehog: Heads or Tails

Chapter 1: Unwelcome Arrivals

Mobians didn't know you could see clouds from space.

How could they? No mobian had ever ventured beyond their homeworld, to escape the sky and reach the inky blackness of space. No mobian had the means, and despite millennia of astronomy, astrology and even philosophy, none really had the motive either. Mobius was their world. Their home. As beautiful as the night sky was, as brightly as the sun shone, why would they want to go there? Granted, there was much they would never learn as a result, but at least in regards as to whether clouds could be seen from space, such an answer eluding them was something they could live with.

If "living" was really a word that could be used nowadays...

Assuming a mobian did have both means and motive to escape the gravity of their homeworld, they would have seen that clouds were indeed visible from space. Many of them, standing out as much as the deep blue of their seas, the green of their forests and plains and the brown-yellow colours of their deserts. They would have seen, much to their surprise, that from space, Mobius was a pristine world. A jewel amongst the stars. An island in the void. They would have seen what the passenger in the shuttle breaking through those clouds would have.

"Now approaching the troposphere. ETA...thirty seconds."

The troposphere...the lowest level of the atmosphere. The realm that contained 80% of the world's atmospheric mass. The realm where many of the clouds were. Clouds that began to show the true nature of the world, or at least its north-western corner. Slowly, white gave way to brown. Surely, the air around the shuttle was overcome with everything from carbon monoxide to particulate matter. Finally, the source of it all was revealed.

Robotropolis. The shuttle's destination. A city of industry, of science, of technology.

A city of hell.

Like stalagmites reaching for the sky, the buildings stood tall, crumbling guardians eroded by acid rain. Smoke stacks left, right and centre stood among them, emitting the poisonous fumes into the atmospheric sink. All around it stood desert, as if the city was an infected cell and the sand was part of the virus crippling the planet. The desert had been here long before the city, yet it wasn't always like this. Once, Robotropolis was a city of balance. Once, it was a city of beauty. Once, it went by the name of Mobotropolis, and was the jewel of Mobius's crown rather than the fool's gold it had become.

"Entering Robotropolis airspace. Heading for HQ, landing pad five."

In contrast to the ruined buildings and churning hunks of industry, the shuttle was quite elegant. Mainly black and with a curved wing structure, it wove its way through the smog, its fusion engines an oddity amongst this realm of fossil fuels. Clean energy, but by practicality rather than choice. Fusion was expensive. Fossil fuels weren't. It was as simple as that.

"Five seconds to landing."

As simple as those very words.

The pilot didn't notice nor care about the smog-filled realm it was flying through. It was a robot. The air made no difference to it. Even the lack of visibility was a moot point, given the shuttle's navigation system. Indeed, the flying was mainly a formality. As was its words. Its master knew where he was. The smog, the sights, the sounds of progress and his expanding empire...he was where he belonged

"We're home, Cluck..." the passenger said as he patted his pet, giving himself the kind of affirmation of presence he knew he was entitled to. "I do miss the beauty of this place when I'm away."

Which was more and more often as his empire expanded. Even into space. But in the end, he always came back. All roads led to Robotropolis, as did the source of Mobius's woes.

The pet clucked in what amounted to affection. The only affection the shuttle's passenger would ever receive in this world. He wasn't mobian. And even if he was, the free peoples of this world would have loathed him all the same.

Some called him a madman. Some called him a monster. Some used both terms, and even more colourful ones. But in the end, he only had one true name. And all mobians knew it.

Everyone knew the name of Doctor Julian Ivo Robotnik.

Gravity was one of those things that was inevitable.

Granted, it was practically non-existent outside planetary bodies such as Mobius, but it was always there, however faintly. Gravity kept one's feet on the ground. Gravity imposed order on star systems, even galaxies. And even as the shuttle defied gravity by firing its downward thrusters, it was bound to gravity just the same. Slowly, but surely. Inevitably. And inevitably, Robotnik would be disembarking from it.

It was that fact that worried Snively the most.

Snively was actually the nickname of Colin Kintobor Jr., but it was a nickname that had stuck. Short with a pointy nose, thin wisps of hair and "lackey" painted all over him, it was a nickname that was well deserved. Second in command of Robotropolis and its growing empire in name, nothing but a domestic servant in practice. A servant that had looked after the house while Robotnik had examined the viability of a base on the moon, but a servant nonetheless. And right now, as he stood on the landing platform with trepidation as his uncle's shuttle descended, he was a servant bombarded with the ship's exhaust, messing up what little hair he had. The Third Law of Motion was as inevitable as gravity itself. And so inevitable was Robotnik's displeasure, no matter how well he looked after his capital...that should be regarded as a scientific law as well.

"Good morning Doctor Robotnik," the weedy man uttered as he watched his master descend down the landing ramp, his robotic pet chicken in hand. "Exciting trip?"

"Perhaps Snively," the tyrant grunted, barely sparing his subordinate a second glance as he walked towards the doorway to the base proper. Silently reflecting that such an evasive answer could mean anything (but probably not something good), Snively timidly followed.

Well, could be worse. He could have called me a twerp instead...

Just by looking at the two humans, one could see there was a difference in power between them. Robotnik was almost as wide as he was tall, but he was taller than Snively nonetheless. A roboticized left arm, billowing yellow cape, orange hair, red eyes, red uniform...he was the power of Robotropolis. The power of Mobius, all things considered. Or almost all things. Snively knew that Robotnik's plans of conquest were at a crossroads. There was one hurdle for him to overcome. And in recent times, much time and energy had been spent on overcoming it.

And if he couldn't, Snively would get the blame.

As far as Cluck was concerned, the servant already was to blame. That, or it just liked...well, clucking at him at every opportunity, his master's dislike for his nephew having apparently been included in his programming. It was clucking that promptly stopped as one of its eyeballs temporarily popped out like a cuckoo out of a clock, courtesy of a remote Snively had designed for such a thing. Even if that chicken was focussed on doing his creator's dirty work, he could at least fight back. And while Robotnik fussed over his pet as it clucked in protest, it was satisfying nonetheless.

About the only piece of satisfaction he recieved.

Robotnik didn't seem to notice nor care that Cluck was continuing to cluck at the short man following him across the platform. Nor did the SWATbots-six foot tall robot enforcers, the dark paint of their bodies standing in stark contrast to the corroded iron of the architecture. Silently, Robotnik walked past them, as did Snively. Unlike Cluck, they were programmed for the most basic of functions-sentry duty, searching and destroying. And fortunately, Snively wasn't on their list of targets.

But I know who is...the human reflected as he followed his master to his control room. And sooner or later, he's going to want to know about him.

Well, maybe not now, Snively reflected, as Robotnik sat down in his control chair, suited for his size and weight. Maybe Robotnik's mission had gone well. Maybe he would forget about their nemesis and his band of rebels. Maybe he could slip out, remove himself from the gaze of his uncle and pet and-...

"So tell me Snively. "Any hint of that troublesome hedgehog?"

Or not.

Robotnik was at a crossroads.

He knew it, Cluck knew it, and for all his idiocy, even Snively knew it. From where he stood, he was the master of Mobius. Its ruler. Its king. And yet, there were those who opposed him. Freedom Fighters, located in the Great Forest across the desert. Mobians who lived outside his control and opposed him at every turn. Their efforts were as flies were to an elephant, but they had nonetheless become a thorn in his side. And while a thorn could easily be removed, it could also sink in further to his flesh. So while one road led to the thorn being removed, the other led to it being embedded indefinitely. And having returned from his space trip, Robotnik had gotten straight to business. Had Snively defied expectations and come up with some useful data on their enemy? Or had his incompetence shone through again?

Given the twerp's blank stare, the dictator suspected the answer was in the negative.

"Well, Snively?" the scientist snarled. "I asked you a question. Has there, or has there not, been any news on Sonic?"

"Not exactly, Doctor Robotnik," the coward answered timidly.

"What do you mean, not exactly? Either there is or there isn't."

"Well I...well you see...but I thought you..."

It was so...pathetic, really. Here he was, the most powerful man on Mobius, and he had the weakest man right in front of him trying to fill his shoes while he was away. Granted, they were the only two humans on this planet, but even so...

I should have him shot...Robotnik mused as he watched his nephew try to spit and say that he'd failed in coming up with anything concerning the hedgehog known as Sonic, a.k.a. Target: Priority One. It's bound to save me trouble later on. Or maybe I can have him roboticized. He can't get any less competent can he?

"I...wait...wait a minute..."

Or maybe he can...

Or maybe not. Snively had ceased his attempts at explanation, but at least he had a valid reason. A light on the adjacent console was flashing, said console linked to the feeds of the surveillance orbs that roamed Robotropolis and the area around it. The consoles were blank here-the feeds were recorded in surveillance stations located throughout the city, but in his HQ, only deviations in expected visuals would be transmitted in an attempt to save bandwidth. Somewhere, a surveillance orb had detected something out of the ordinary. And as Snively activated a screen to show its feed, the somewhere turned out to be the outskirts of the Great Forest. And the something was...

A mobian...

A two tailed fox mobian less than ten years old by the looks of things, but a mobian nonetheless. A furry, primitive, disgusting mobian carrying out the equally sickening act of smelling flowers. A mobian that was no doubt one of his enemies...

"That fox..." Robotnik murmured, fighting the urge to reach through the screen and rid his world of the creature's repulsiveness. "A Freedom Fighter?"

"Affirmative, sir," Snively declared, accessing another console and drawing up a visual reference to the creature in order to access all known data. "Miles Prower, better known as Tails. Often found in the company of Sonic."

Tails...the name wasn't familiar. Sonic however, was. Sonic the Hedgehog. Older, faster and far more dangerous than this vulpine could ever be. Sonic, as in Target Priority One.

"Well, sir?" Snively asked, glancing back at his uncle. "Your orders?"

Robotnik remained silent for a moment. Taking out this mobian would be a picnic-completely ungratifying if he wasn't there to do it himself or better yet, roboticize him. A waste of time and effort for the most part. However, if Snively was correct, and this...Tails (stupid name), did accompany his greatest foe...then maybe this could work.

"Snively, patch me through to Bomber One," Robotnik said eventually. "He's going to go on a fox hunt."

And potentially a hedgehog hunt as well. Attack the fox, draw out the hedgehog and with any luck, two bodies would be on the forest floor by the end of the day. And if not...well, Robotnik saw it like this. Either the fox would scream for help and it would come, or it wouldn't and he'd die anyway.

Either way, his screams would be heard and seen just the same...

A/N

So yes, this is a novelization of the pilot episode of Sonic SatAM. Not part of a series I'm afraid, but just a stand-alone akin to Chaos Control Freaks. That being said, while I like SatAM more than Sonic X overall, I do feel that the pilot episode of the former lags behind that of the latter, namely that it was indeed very much a pilot episode. That being said, while it hopefully stands up in writing here, I feel compelled to point out a few factors for both this chapter and subsequent ones.

-My guess that Robotnik's ship in Heads or Tails was effectively the pilot version of his command ship that appeared in later episodes. However, this being 'my' story in a sense, I decided to have it as a shuttle, explaining why it was never seen again and how it was apparently capable of leaving Mobius (where did Robotnik even go, anyway? Explain DiC, explain!).

-I've kept the SWATbots as being dark-coloured, as opposed to the light coloured versions seen in the pilot. The Archie series handled this well IMO, how they kept the original scheme for the SWATbots and moved to the darker scheme for the Shadowbots. The problem with this in SatAM however, is that Blast to the Past demonstrated that the SWATbots always had the dark scheme. As such, I went with it here, as it would be a voodoo shark for me to explain why they changed to one colour and then back again.