Disclaimer
Sonic the Hedgehog, Dr. Robotnik, the E-100 series and all other related characters copyrighted by Sega.
Decoe, Bocoe and Bokkun copyrighted by the creators of Sonic X.
I never thought Sonic X would prove to be such a recurring source of stories, but here I am, at it again! For those of you newly joining, Sonic X will enter its Third Season on October 5, 2003, thus marking the evolution from a mixture of Dragonball-Z-Emerald-Hunting and Digimon-Human-Guarding to pure Video Game Adaptation! Yessir, the next pirated videos will include Chaos, Big the Cat, Tikal and my personal favorite, E-102 Gamma! I'm really pumped!
I should warn you: if you haven't kept up with the Japanese series, then you've missed a lot. If you like SegaSonic and would like to catch up on the second season, I recommend episodes 14,15, 17, 18, 23 and the two-part climax of episodes 25 & 26.
Okay, let's get to it!
I'm sorry, let me try that again.
Heaves a deep breath and inflates his lungs.
Okaaay, Guy! Hea We Go!
SONIC X: ENTER THE E-100 SERIES
A Story Written by Tylec Asroc
I find television very educational. Every time someone switches it on, I go into another room and read a good book.
--Groucho Marx.
Clouds misted the sky, cloaking the twinkling lights of Station Square and forming a veil between dark earth and midnight sky. Below, the night life of the city was just dawning into its regular noise and drive, but above there was only the solitary hum of twin engines. Between the moonlight and silver clouds glided a ship, dominated by a large saucer-shaped front and propelled by a boxy engine piece balancing long, cyclindrical thrusters down its length. The moon's rays fell on the ship and for a moment there was a reflection so brilliant it consumed all in white light.
And from the light, came a voice...
Space … The final frontier. These are the voyages of the skyship Eggterprise. It's continuing mission: To exploit strange new worlds, To seek out blue life and its elimination, To boldly go where no mecha has gone before. This is
STAR TREGG:
THE NEGGST GENERATION
Decoe swiveled his chair away from his console to address the crew. Though clothing was unnecessary, the golden mecha wore a blue shirt with a pointed insignia (or, in this case, inseggnia) affixed to his breast. With his pill-shaped cranium, his audio sensors covered with pointy rubber ears and his optics half-closed, he was the spitting image of calmly smug Vulcan logic.
"Captain," he said in a voice which had been described as both whiny and nasal, "Sensors indicate possible anthropomorphic life-forms off the starboard bow. We can only assume that the hedgehog is nearby. I suggest we ready proton torpedoes."
But the Captain was not present on the bridge. Behind him was the Messanjah-Robo, giggling gleefully as he spun round in his swiveling chair. Scientific Officer Decoe could not decide whether it was the chair itself which incited such an overload in the 'bot's emotion-chips, or whether the black-beehive-wig-wearing robot was just delighted to find a dress that matched its red boots.
"Whee!" cheered the little black thing. "I'm Uhura! I'm Uhura! Hee hee!!"
The Vulcan-bot watched the cheap Chao-imitation for another moment, then assessed that he was the highest-ranking (or at least the most sane) officer on deck. "All hands to battle stations," he declared neutrally. Turning his chair, he began instructing the Chief-Engineer. "Increase forward deflector shields and engage thirty degree heading. I require engines at full power."
From the central control station, the ships Chief-Engineer gave a cry. "SAHR!! I'm already givin' her all Ah've gat! The engines, she won't take that kind o' stress. She'll bloh if we …"
They were definitely late in the series because Scotty had gotten fat. The only thing larger than the gray-haired human's gullet was his moustache: usually properly trimmed, it had somehow sprouted to an enormous length of gray handlebars. The scarlet-shirted engineer kept sputtering on his Scottish catch phrases until the Vulcan silently silenced him.
"It is only logical to engage the hedgehog at velocities equal to his own," Decoe pointed out rationally.
"But SAHR!! She won' take no more! She…"
"Hey, hey, HEY! SHUT UP!" That was Lieutenant Uhara; standing on her … or his, seat cocking a mechanical ear to the approaching clomp of footsteps.
"That would be the Captain," Decoe pointed out. "Once he returns we shall hear his orders and this conflict of interests shall be resolved by the proper chain of command."
At that precise moment, give or take a few introductory phrases, the bridge door slammed open and a pudgy little robot entered breathlessly.
"A'hm here, Cap'tn!" It announced in Scottish undertones. "Y'most fargive me sahr, but … the engines, thay were overheatin'! At tha rate this ship was moovin, she couldn'ta lasted … much …"
Dr. Robotnik had swung out of his chair and stomped up to Bocoe. They looked at each other, both wearing black pants down their skinny legs, both wearing red shirts over their considerable girth, both having a fuzzy moustache under their nose, both reaching up to scratch their heads and to adjust the itchy gray wigs they wore. They might have continued the mirror-routine longer, but then Robotnik's eyes scowled tightly and Bocoe's bugged out enormously. They spoke at the exact same moment, and in tones that reflected their irked or shocked expressions.
"I'm supposed to be Scotty!"
Lieutenant Uhara suppressed a nasty snigger. Decoe just moaned and slapped his forehead.
"Oh Prime, not again!"
Following the demise of the doctor's slanty-island-shanty Egg Tower, a special decree had been issued: every fifth day of the week was now Friday Theme Day, a sort of fun, dress-up day to boost the morale of his troops. It had always seemed a little redundant to Decoe since there were only five sentient beings aboard the Eggfort fleet … well, four, now that Kuno-I-Chi had gone and joined the great assembly of super-villains knocked into the sky.
Thinking about the ninja-mecha, he reflexively glanced out the window and tried to guess if that was her star up there, or just Team Rocket again. It was really sad to loose her; he'd always enjoyed his shy conversations with E-091. After the initial awkward hellos and pauses, they might discuss their Master's latest stupid plans, or she might tease him (E-01) about how she outranked him by ninety positions or they might play mahjong. Then there was that time she had dropped her sword and they'd touched hands, both trying to retrieve it, and the long, uncomfortable, and yet enjoyable look that followed.
Decoe sighed. ... He missed Kuno-I-Chi. Then he shook his head and resolved to pull himself together before the continuum altered into an angsty robo-slash fic. It would never work; neither of them had lips, anyway.
Besides, Dr. Robotnik and Bocoe were heating things up plenty.
"I specifically stated in the weekly memo that the role of Chief Engineer was to be played by…"
This happened every week. There was some advantage, Decoe supposed, to being tall and lanky instead of short and stout. Apparently having the same physical physiques increased the probability of choosing identical costumes.
There was Marvel Superhero Day, where Bocoe and their Master had stared goggle-eyed at each other, each sporting a white jacket, shiny head and diamond-tipped Kingpin cane. Then there was X-Men Day (or rather, Eggs-Men) where two bronze hover-chairs had collided, resulting in a shock for both chrome-domed Professors within. And Matrix Day … ugh, he did not want to remember the day where two Morphiuses, one short, the other mustached, appeared in black leather jackets and bare-frame spectacles to find The One. Robotnik could not copy himself like Agent Smith, but he had managed to replicate quite a few dents in Bocoe's frame.
"I sent out e-mails saying I was playing Scotty!"
"Yeah, well … I called it first!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"N'uh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Don't go there, girl!"
"Oh, this has gone on quite enough!" Robotnik raged. "I am commanding officer on this ship and your Master! I order you to let me play Scotty!"
Checkmate, Decoe thought. No going against programming. Bocoe sulked over the outcome and muttered something that sounded like eggman.
"Fine, you be Scotty. I never wanted to be him anyway." He threw off his wig and tore away his moustache, pouting for a minute more before inquiring, "So … who am I gonna be, then? Sulu?"
Robotnik was just finishing a generous cat-stretch in his command chair and had a wicked grin on his face. "No, no Bocoe, I think you should play a role more fitting to your particular talents." He thought a moment.
"Why don't you be Ensign No. 15?"
Decoe was always amazed by his counterpart: whenever he thought the stubby bot's eyes had grown their largest radius, Bocoe surprised him and bugged-out even farther.
"ENSIGN 15!!" He blurted out, oil leaking from his armor in great big Anime-sweatdrops. "But … but … but…"
He was undoubtedly trying to comment on the fate of all non-regular crew members when Decoe spotted a large, hairy hand reach out from the corner of his vision and tap Bocoe on the shoulder. The little robot freaked out even more and tried to run, but could not get past the initial acceleration phase where one races on the spot before the Monster's hand throttled him by the neck (popping out Bocoe's eyes even more so) and dragged him off to some shadowy corner wherefrom were tossed screams and random body parts.
Decoe and the little courier-bot could only gape like dumbfounded fools. "That," declared the little black thing, "Was a bad one."
The golden assistant shook his head. "You surely haven't forgotten Anime Day, have you?"
Robotnik and Bocoe had both appeared as Cardcaptor's Sakura. When they finally stopped bickering and bopping each other with flamingo-styled wands, Bocoe relented and agreed to be Sailor Moon. Then the robo-school-girl had been dragged off screaming by winding, slimy, dripping, voracious,
"Tentacles." Decoe and Little Black Thing gave a collective shudder.
Dr. Robotnik coughed to gain their attention. "Sad as it is to bring this artificial holiday to an end, we have business to attend to. Deck-Oh! Increase thrust by ten points and continue our current heading. I want this ship at the site in under an hour!"
"Speaking of this ship," Decoe piped up, "May I ask just what we're doing back in the Eggfort 2? I thought it got destroyed when we changed to Egg-Emperor-Zord mode and Super Sonic tore through the mecha like…"
"Like a paper shredder on Enron finaincial documents!" Little Black Thing chirped up, eager to prove his wicked wit by referencing a commonly known news event (and by avoiding the Swiss-cheese analogy.)
Robotnik turned his chair and leaned over so his moustache pinned down the two remaining lackeys. "I had an island fortress whose underground bunkers contained the Original Eggfort, a green assault ship with more than a passing resemblence to the old Thunderbirds puppet series, a fleet of E-011 "Buzzords", a giant chicken with a fan in its stomach and all three components of the Eggfort Two. Do you really think I was so pressed for space that I couldn't squeeze in another ship?"
Decoe processed that information. "So… that means we're in the Eggfort Two 2?"
If not for Robotnik's continued glower, the Little Black Thing might have giggled something about frilly pink ballet leotards. But he shut his mouth and their Master gave an affirmative nod.
"Now get back to work," he growled. "We don't have much time left before we loose our new advantage against Sonic."
"Yeah, that's the thing Doc," piped up the button-faced messenger. "What's the big thing about these super-new-mechas? They don't look so tough t'me. I could beat 'em up like … Pow, POW! Pseewww…BOOM!!" He whizzed through the air awhile, making smashing and swooshing sound effects until Robotnik pulled a novelty paper fan from his pocket and swatted the black bug into Decoe's chest.
"owww…."
"On their own," Robotnik sneered, "These new mechas are certainly incapable of defeating the hedgehog. But, when combined with the knowledge I have uncovered, they will become an unstoppable force of G-rated destruction!"
Decoe thrust into the conversation. "There! You just mentioned this "Rating System" again. What are you speaking of when you refer to these "ratings" or "target audience" or "seasons"?"
Robotnik grinned the grin of a man satisfied with his immense superiority. "You mean you haven't' figured it out yet?" he mocked. Both Decoe and the black stain on his chassis shook their heads 'no'. The Doctor laughed and slapped his knee; delighting over a joke only he could understand. "Well, let me enlighten you. Look over there."
The tall and slim assistant started at his Master's shoulder and ran his optics down the length of the long arm, following the pointing finger down its course towards the Eggfort Two 2's bridge window. Little Black Thing beat him to the scream, but soon they were both shrieking with utter terror.
Just before the Eggfort's saucer-section, looming before them like a great glass monolith was a … a screen! It was transparent and made of millions of pixel-sized divisions, and it was a window to some great monstrosity. Sprawled out sloth-like on a couch and the adjacent floor, illuminated like blue ghosts by some unknown glow were giant humans! One was pointing a thick wand right at their heads; one had his mouth gaping slightly; another had a finger excavating its nasal cavity.
Decoe's panic-protocols went into overdrive! "Dr. Lord Robotnik Sir … we're being monitored!" The scientist only crossed his arms, leaned a foot on the opposite knee and leaned back smugly in his chair.
"No, Decoe, we're being televised."
He and Little Black Thing huddled around their Master, pawing him for comfort and safety. "Can they … can they … hear…"
"Oh yes, according to my calculations they can hear us quite perfectly. Understand us? Well, that's a different thing. They've pirated the transmissions from this world far to early. Whatever we say will be a foreign language to those creatures until they perform an operation called dubbing. Don't ask; I haven't got that far yet."
"Can … can we speak with them?"
"The skill takes powerful concentration and years of practice, however, yes, we could bridge our universes through a technique called Fourth Walling." The doctor mentioned this with an air of knowledge. "But it's highly difficult and unnecessary at this point. Even the great masters had difficulty performing, and could only communicate accidentally, as in times of great anxiety." Their gaze was ever on this newly discovered anomaly in the sky.
"All you need to know, my mechanical minions, is that those things exist in a plane of reality beyond our own; a dimension partially responsible for the creation of this backwater planet." He smiled. "I say partially responsible, because, once aware of the seasons and cycles they have programmed into our "Clockwork World", it becomes quite simple to move beyond our restraints; to "control the code" if you will."
Decoe could hardly keep his processors from overloading as he stared into all those vacant eyes, those slack jaws, those faces textured with acne and cookie crumbs. "And …" he stuttered, "Your new robots have something to do with … with … with them?" He pointed a shaky digit at the oppressive titans.
"Decoe, the E-100 series has everything to do with them."
Hmmm. Not the script-fic you were expecting? Yeah, I decided I should try some detailed humor in the vein of KT-SHY. Opinions?
NEXT TIME: Sonic mourns the great loss of a close friend. The Eggman reaches his destination and the great secret it holds.
Hang tight, dear readers! I'll be back before you can say "I Saw Shadow On Sonic X and it was so cool and so awsome and why the heck does he sound like Seto Kaiba??"
--Tylec Asroc.