A Word From the Author: Greetings, all. This update comes sooner than most. For some reason, it simply seemed to flow better than the ones before it. As for its content, its finally getting down to the crux of the story, that is, the Angel Island show-down where the A.I. Project somehow launches the cast into the increasingy mentioned 'Vanguard War.' I have to confess, if you're a Sonamy fan and have not given up on this SatAM based story by now, this chapter will both thrill you and annoy you at the same time. All-in-all, there's little to say about this chapter other than "here it its, ladies and gents, at long last." Reader, enjoy. If I do say so myself, I did.

Chapter Twelve: Freedom Stormin'

A lot can change in a week.

A week before, the A.I. Project had been nothing more than a suspicious-looking intelligence file on N.I.C.O.L.E's hard drive with a "to watch" tag on it. A week before, the Ancient Ones had been little more than myths, in which few of the Freedom Fighters believed. A week before, Orana, Solyurus and Isaac had still been in disguise as nothing more than a colorfully-plumed family of birds.

A week before, Station Square had still been populated, Tails had been free, Uncle Chuck had been alive, and Sally Acorn had been the one person Sonic could trust for anything and everything.

Yeah, Sonic thought with a snort as he unceremoniously tossed his hastily-packed backpack, containing nothing but four Power Rings, his communicator, and a few G.U.N. Field Rations (courtesy of Viceroy Drake), into the cargo hold of the Tornado, the biplane he and Tails had hijacked from Robotropolis during their failed first mission to destroy the Death Egg. A lot can change in a week. The backpack landed on top of the other three packs piled there with a dull and disinterested thump which, in the silence of the pre-dawn quasi-light, seemed as deflated as the morale of the Freedom Fighters. The mission Squad for this assignment, Sally had decided, would consist of Sonic, Sally, Rotor and Bunnie, leaving Antoine as the senior Freedom Fighter until their return. Choosing who would go had not been difficult. The seating arrangements, however, had been a different story.

The Freedom Stormer, Rotor's jury-rigged collection of various and sundry spare parts which never ceased to amaze Sonic with its ability to take off, let alone fly, could easily have carried the four of them to Angel Island. But given the Tornado's combat record, most of it with Tails at the stick, it was agreed that the biplane would be an invaluable asset if it came to a showdown with Task Force E.G.G. On the other hand, the Tornado had space for only the pilot and one passenger, so the Freedom Stormer was chosen as the additional "troop transport." Sonic, it was decided, would pilot the Tornado. That was when the arguing began.

Rotor had, with Bunnie's full agreement, decided that he and Bunnie should ride aboard the Freedom Stormer, leaving Sonic and Sally to the Tornado. Sonic immediately rebuffed that the other three should all take the Stormer, leaving him to himself aboard the Tornado, saying he needed time to think. The more Sally insisted that Rotor's idea had been the best (even though she knew Rotor and Bunnie had reasons in mind other than the mission), the more vehemently Sonic insisted on taking the Tornado alone. Finally, after Sally's insistence that the team should be divided evenly between the two craft in the event one were shot down, Sonic consented. "Alright," he'd said with a coldness he partly regretted. "The Rote-man's with me, and you girls can take the Stormer."

The message had not been lost on any of them.

Though visibly hurt by Sonic's remark, and though neither Bunnie nor Sally really felt up to piloting the Freedom Stormer, Sally had agreed to the arrangement. Anything for the mission. And with that, it seemed, they were ready to make preparations. It had been Bunnie, later that day, who cornered Sonic and berated him in that manner that every teenage girl reserves for her best friend's idiot boyfriend, asking if he ever loved Sally then how could he stab her in the heart at a time like this, and insisting among other things that Sally had more than enough to worry about without Sonic's tantrum. The straw that had broken the hedgehog's back, of course, had been "whatever problems you two are having, save 'em fore after the mission!" At that, Sonic had consented to allow Sally to ride in the Tornado.

"The mission," Sonic muttered as he slammed the cargo hold shut. "The gods-damned mission!" The last word was emphasized with a sharp kick to the fuselage, a kick which did more damage to Sonic's toe than to its target. The mission was what Uncle Chuck had always talked about when he insisted on staying in Robotropolis. The mission was what had led Sally to pick Tails for a trip to Robotropolis. And now where were they? "And who else is gonna have to take the fall for 'the mission,' Sal?" Sonic asked the air. "Bunnie? Rotor? Me? And for what?" All your efforts, all your sacrifices, all you've lost in your little rebellion against Lord Robotnik, all so you can build your precious 'Republic of Acorneria?' You fight a so-called tyrant so you can set another up in his place, Hedgehog. Metal Sonic's words sounded in Sonic's mind as clearly as the day he'd heard them, and he shuddered. At the time, he had denied the robot's accusations, swearing his devotion to Sally not for her title, but because he loved her. Now, though, they had begun to make sense, and Sonic was not sure what frightened him more: the fact that he and Metal Sonic were starting to agree, or what they agreed about. "Well, either way," Sonic vowed, "once this… this mission is over, and we've got Tails back, we're through, Princess. I can bust up Butt-nik's plans just fine on my own, and I can do it without asking anyone to die for me."

While Sonic brooded over the past week's events and waited for the dawn to arrive so the four Freedom Fighters could be underway, the three Ketsunae youths sat on the shores of Power Ring Lake, considering their next move, oblivious to the plight of the hedgehog in the hangar on the opposite side of the village.

"I can't believe the Elder isn't allowing us to go with them," Solyurus said bluntly, tossing a rock into the lake in a manner which, had Sonic been there, would have been all-too-familiar. "I mean, aren't we already involved? And isn't Prower's nephew one of us?"

"Don't be so quick to answer that question for yourself, Sol," Isaac pointed out, "until you know how Miles would answer it."

"What's that supposed to mean, Isaac?"

Isaac's reply was so delayed Solyurus began to feel he was being ignored. "I don't know," he finally said with a sigh. "It just seems like what Elder Prower would say if he were here."

"Yeah, but he's not," Solyurus said flatly. "While we're on that subject, Isaac-"

"Oh, not again, Solyurus," Orana pleaded.

Orana's plea seemed only to fuel Solyurus's indignation. "It doesn't make any sense, you two. He appears to Isaac, stops him from doing anything to get us out of Robotnik's stronghold while these mortals do the work for him, tells them about Miles' roots, insists they rescue him, and then disappears again, leaving us here. And nobody finds this a little, I dunno, strange?"

"He has a purpose, Solyurus," Isaac spoke with the air of one participating in a familiar argument. "You have to trust that."

"I'd have an easier time trusting him if he let me in on a few of the details about what exactly he expects us to do in the meantime," was Solyurus' reply.
"He expects us to wait."

"Yeah, wait," Solyurus sneered. "Wait, and leave a situation like this in the hands of mortals. We're talking about Miles Prower here, Sol. You know, the Nine-tailed's nephew? Probably more powerful untrained than any of us are trained."

"That's not certain," Orana insisted.

"And what if things go wrong and he can't control that power," Solyurus, full of steam, plowed on. "Or if his brother finds him first? Isaac, what are mortals doing even involved in this? This is a Ketsunae matter."

"The Vanguard War has always been a Ketsunae matter, Solyurus," Isaac answered. "And it's always been foretold that it would be fought by mortals. Why should this time be any different?" It was not until he observed the stunned silence that fell over Orana and Solyurus that Isaac realized he had spoken too soon.

"The Vanguard War," Orana whispered as if afraid the words would cause calamity if spoken too loudly. "Is that… is that what…"

"Impossible," Solyurus spat. "You met those people, Isaac. They're our age. What can they have to do with a battle as big as the clash with Bao'zar?"

"Solaur is our age," Isaac countered. "And I'd say he had plenty to do with Bao'zar. Besides, Princess Acorn and her followers have been fighting for years, young or not."

Solyurus' face twisted into a knot of disgust. "Yeah, against another mortal. What's he compared to the last of the Chae-Dan? Do you honestly-"

"The Elder gave us our orders!" Isaac shouted, silencing Solyurus. Then, as if to smooth over what he feared would become an infected rift in their friendship, he began more softly. "If it makes you feel any better, he left me other instructions."

At first Solyurus seemed to dismiss this statement, but something in Isaac's eyes told him there was more to it than it seemed. Finally, Orana made the connection for him. "You are going to aid, aren't you," she asked excitedly.

"I can't say," Isaac replied quickly. "And if I told you, it would only make you angrier."

Solyurus uttered a sound that was a mix of a groan and a sigh, throwing his hands over his head and falling back onto the rocks with a flop. "Why does that fail to surprise me, Isaac?"

Isaac shrugged and started to speak. Before he was able to begin, however, the sound of approaching footfalls on the rocks silenced all discussion, save for a hurried "we'll talk later," from Solyurus, who was back on his feet. All three eyes turned toward the source of the footsteps, peering into the treeline for a glimpse of the newcomer, but the combination of fog and a barely-awakened son made it impossible to see.

They were feminine steps, Isaac felt sure. They were soft, and there was a timidity to them. which he associated with a small child sneaking into her parents' bedroom after a nightmare. Probably nothing dangerous, he assured himself. Nonetheess, he sensed Orana and Solyurus's energy auras beginning to flare.

Slowly, a shadow began to emerge from the trees, then to take form as it cut through the fog. It was a young hedgehog. Finally, it took on color, and Isaac began to recognize the visitor. "Good morning, Miss Rose," he called out, intending less to greet her than to assure Solyurus and Orana that there was nothing to fear. "Aren't you up a little early?"

Amy Rose approached the three without making eye contact, hands clasped nervously behind her back. "I… I'm sorry to bother you," she whispered. "I can come back later if that, I mean, if this is a bad time. Or, if you-"

"It's alright, Amy," Isaac spoke soothingly. "Now's just fine. What's bothering you?"

Seemingly spurred on by Isaac's question, Amy finally raised her eyes, unclasping her hands and let them dangle at her sides. Then, deciding this was too clumsy, she clasped them in front of her. "Umm, Mister Eldritch, I just… I mean…" After a silence, she apparently decided the direct way was the best way. "Is it true that Miles, my Miles, is… is one of you? Is it really true?"

Isaac nodded slowly. "It's true," he answered neutrally, not certain what kind of reaction this would induce.

Amy nodded, seeming to accept this. Her next question, which took several moments to muster the courage to ask, came across far more accusingly than she had intended. "Then why aren't any of you going with Sonic and the others on the mission?"

Had Isaac turned his head toward Solyurus, he would have found the latter giving him a flagrant 'I-told-you-so' glare. Partly aware that this would be the case, Isaac avoided Solyurus' gaze. "The princess didn't ask for our aid," Isaac answered with a matter-of-fact manner that he hoped was believable.

"But… you're going to do something, aren't you?" Amy pleaded, her eyes beginning to moisten with tears. "I mean, you're not just going to leave him. If… if anything happened to Miles…" she found herself unable to finish that thought.

Ah, so that's how it is, Isaac thought, noticing the tears that formed at the corners of the young hedgehog's eyes when she mentioned Miles' name. When she realized her hero was taken, she transplanted her affections to his sidekick. "Miss Rose, try to understand. We have a code of ethics that must be observed. We can't interfere in the affairs of non-Ketsunae unless we are asked."

"Then I'm asking you," Amy cried out without even realizing she intended to do it. Then, as if rethinking her question, she went on. "I… I mean… please."

"It isn't that simple," Isaac insisted. "You're not a leader of your people."

"Please," Amy begged, clutching Isaac's arm as he started to turn away. "So I'm not a leader. Fine. You're supposed to be gods, right? So do the gods only hear the prayers of royalty?"

Isaac made no response. There was, it seemed, nothing to say.

Amy looked at each of the three in turn, seeking some glimmer of hope, some look of reassurance, anything. All she saw, however, were the three Ketsunae turning their heads away in shame. "You don't care." She spoke this as one who has discovered one of the subtle truths of the universe. "None of you care about Tails, do you? Not even your own kind." There was a silence in which it seemed she was going to walk away. Instead, she held her hands out to her sides desperately. "I love him!" She shouted. "Don't you understand that?" More silence followed. "No. No, I guess you don't, do you? You can't understand. How could the gods possibly understand what it's like to know someone you care about is being used as some kind of living battery?"

At this, Isaac froze. Yes, he reminded himself. Yes, I do know what that's like… And as a matter of fact, if it hadn't been for you… but no. I have my orders. I have my orders not to get involved beyond…

…To the Void with my orders. This is Amy Rose. "Amy," Isaac began, stepping cautiously toward her. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Amy looked confused. "Remember you?"

"I didn't expect you to, truly. I didn't look like this when we met last."

Amy shook her head, recoiling a step. "You, you must be mistaken," she stammered. "I've never met-"

Isaac held up a calming hand to silence her objections. "We have, Miss Rose. We met in Station Square."

Amy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You helped me then," Isaac pressed on. "You fought a metallic monster called 'Zero.' Do you remember?"

"I remember Zero, but…" in the midst of her denial, Amy realized what it was she was being told. "The… the bird!"

Isaac nodded. "That's right. The bird. You helped reunite me with those who were dear to me." He took another step toward the girl as he continued, in a voice too low for Orana and Solyurus to hear. "And you may rest assured of this, Miss Rose. Isaac Eldritch always pays his debts."

Slowly, with complete trust, Amy nodded.

"But you have to promise me one thing," Isaac said before Amy could speak.

"Anything," was the immediate answer.

Confident that he had the girl's attention, Isaac spoke more plainly, in a voice that allowed no debate. "Tell no one. No one. Understood?"

"But why is-" Amy started to protest.

"Promise me this, Amy," Isaac insisted. "For Tails' sake, promise me."

That was all the motivation Amy needed. "I promise, Mister Eldritch." Then, with a knowing grin, she whispered, "Mister Bird."

Isaac grinned back, sharing in the joke, before stepping away to rejoin Orana and Solyurus. "Friends," he said, addressing them. "I think we've been too long here in Knothole. Besides," he looked back toward the twins as he said this. "We have one of our own to rescue."

"Now you're talking!" Solyurus cheered.

Amy watched with barely containable joy as three orbs of light, one pink, one blue and one gray, began to glow in the places where the three Ketsunae stood. She continued to watch as the orbs grew brighter and brighter, finally eclipsing the three Ketsunae. At last, as she still watched, the orbs streaked skyward without a sound, leaving only empty air where the three had been standing. And yet, as the glimmering points of light disappeared into the polluted haze of the distant sky, she felt a tear that was not one of joy slide down the side of her face. And with it, a question: a question as unwelcome as it was incongruous with the seeming realities of the moment.

Why do I still feel like he's not coming home?

The newest colonel in the Eggrobo corps stepped onto the bridge of E.G.G. Carrier 2 with his report cradled almost lovingly in the crook of his elbow. His other hand rested conspicuously on the butt of his plasma pistol. Commander Robotnik, the creator's nephew, had left strict orders: anyone, living or droid, who attempted to read the contents of the report was to be neutralized on the spot. The colonel himself knew only that the report pertained to the A.I. Project, for which Commander Robotnik was solely and completely responsible, answering only to Lord Ivo, the Creator-Emperor himself. In the unused directories of his brain, where he had room for idle thoughts, the colonel wondered at the reason for the secrecy. Or, more to the point, at its specific nature. The verbal order which had been processed as the command for secrecy recycled itself within the robot's memory banks, subjected to further analysis with each repetition.

"No one, especially Commander Metal, is to read this report. And should my uncle command to see it, I am to be informed immediately." That had been the order, and the robot's voice-stress analyzers showed a 98 percent probability that the commander was hiding something. This was not what troubled the colonel. It was, after all, a commander's prerogative to exercise a certain discretion with regard to the disclosure of information, especially classified information. Nor was it the commander's insistence on keeping the data from the eyes of Metal Sonic that bothered the colonel. Indeed, a certain amount of intrigue among the upper echelons of the Empire had become accepted practice, and the rivalry between the Creator-Emperor's nephew and his most feared creation was common knowledge.

The datum that reasserted itself as a warning sign to the colonel's multi-faceted CPU was the commander's insistence on being informed if his uncle read the data. After all, did the commander not intend to simply relay the information himself? And if the information were to reach the Creator-Emperor before the commander's report, why would this be of such import to the commander? His analytical subroutines came to only one conclusion, a conclusion that was rejected by his doctrinal subroutines as 'illogical:' the commander was hiding information from the Creator-Emperor.

It was, however, of little consequence now, as the Eggrobo colonel approached the command chair at the center of the warship's bridge. In a moment, the report would be handed over to Snively, the colonel's undisputed superior. After that, the colonel's involvement in the matter would be complete, and it would no longer be his concern. "The report on the A.I. Project, as ordered, Commander," the colonel said with a sharp salute as he came within arm's length of the commander's chair.

"Yes, the report," the commander answered, lazily reaching his hand forth and taking the datapad from the droid and reading it out loud. "Ah, splendid. The device's components are completely assembled, and will be ready for construction as soon as we reach Angel Island. "As he spoke, he pressed the fingertips of both his hands together in what was no doubt an imitation of his uncle's mannerism. "That's good. That's very good indeed. All that's needed now is-" He was prevented from saying what was needed by the familiar irate beep from his console that indicated an incoming transmission. "Oh, bloody hell, what now?" He murmured as he glanced at the console. Incoming Message, read the status bar. And in the bar labeled 'source:' E.G.G. Carrier 1. "Of all the times…" With a grunt of disgust, Snively keyed in the authorization code to open the incoming transmission. Instantly, the screen on the arm of his chair displayed the glowering visage of dr. Robotnik himself.

"Your progress, Snively?"

Snively's demeanor changed in an eyeblink to one more reminiscent of a half-starved rat than a newly appointed commander. "P…progress, sir?"

"The A.I. Project, cretin!" Robotnik bellowed, accompanied by the sound of a metallic fist thudding against the arm of a chair.

"Oh! Oh, y-y-yes, sir. That. Well, em, sir, laboratory reports indicate that construction on the device's components has hit an unexpected delay, sir."

"Snively!"

"Oh, b-b-but nothing to fret about, s-sir. The portal aperture will be ready for construction in, ah," as one hand flew to his collar, which suddenly seemed inordinately tight, the other picked up the datapad, which Snively then scanned with his eyes. "In forty-eight hours, sir."

"Forty-eight hours!" Robotnik hissed. "Damn your eyes, Snively, we'll reach Angel Island in less then twenty-four!"

"P-p-perhaps, sir, I could decrease the time frame to thirty-six hours," Snively pleaded in the manner for which he had received his nickname.

Robotnik ground his superconductive teeth loudly enough that Snively felt sure he could have heard them without the aid of the video transmitter. "Thirty-six hours then, Snively. But mark this. I will tolerate absolutely no more delays. Do we understand one another, my dear nephew?"

"Perfectly, s-s-sir."

"Marvelous. E.G.G. Carrier 1 out." In a moment, Robotnik's face disappeared from the screen.

The colonel, who had stood in respectful silence throughout the conversation, now spoke. "Sir, requesting permission to report to maintenance for an auditory diagnostic."

"The reason being?" Snively demanded, returning to his former demeanor.

"Before Lord Robotnik's transmission, my memory banks indicate that you stated the A.I. Project's components were complete, and the device would be ready for construction upon arrival at Angel Island. But during the conversation-"

"Yes, yes," Snively nodded his agreement. "An annoying little slip, that. I liked you better than your predecessor. Unfortunately, I can't have you going about and letting my uncle know more than is good for him, now can I? Computer," Snively began issuing a command directly to the ship's control core. The colonel realized mere nanoseconds before the command was completely spoken that he was the victim of a forbidden enterprise. Unfortunately for the colonel, the nature of the command would have denied him recourse even had he realized sooner. "Activate command droid's auto-shutdown sequence with complete memory purge." Four point nine seconds after making his request for an auditory diagnostic, the colonel's internal power core self-ruptured, surging positronic electricity through its neurocircuitry and erasing the only records of Snively's deception.

The two aircraft which had been jokingly dubbed the 'Acornerian Air Force,' a name which one needn't wonder did very little to ease the growing rift between Sonic and Sally, departed Knothole's makeshift airfield an hour after dawn, as planned. They flew at a painstakingly slow speed and low altitude to the coast where the Great Forest met the Oil Ocean (which had once been the Green Sea, before Robotnik's takeover and the subsequent pollution), thereby evading radar stations in Robotropolis, as planned. They maintained radio silence in case any of Robotnik's patrols happened to wander out farther than usual, as planned. As planned, there were no such patrols to worry about. Only two things did not go according to the carefully laid plans of the Freedom Fighters.

The first was the weather, which, in a twist of irony which Sally could not help but chuckle at in spite of herself, seemed to have taken a vested interest in making the flight to Angel Island intolerable for the occupants of the aircraft named for storms. A particularly vicious rain plagued the twin craft for the first hour and a half of the trip, bringing into dazzling focus the design flaw in both planes' designs: the open canopy. After this passed came the wind; a sharp, pre-cyclonic tropical wind, whose chill was only made worse by the quartet's soaking wet fur. The second thing which did not go according to plan was the so-fought-over seating arrangements, and for Sonic and Sally, this had been the source of the real storm.

During the moments immediately preceding take-off, as Sally had been about to climb into the pilot's seat of the Freedom Stormer (Bunnie was already in place in one of the passenger berths), Rotor had, with a speed Sally had not thought the rotund walrus capable of, vaulted over the side of the plane and into the pilot's seat, sputtering a quick-fired and incomprehensible series of excuses mostly centered around a concern that Bunnie might require maintenance along the way. A glance at Bunnie's reddened face left little doubt as to the nature of this 'maintenance,' and Sally had tried to argue. Rotor had, however, already started up the craft's engines by that point, making his 'sorry, can't hear you' gestures plausible enough that Sally dared not argue further, especially when time was so certainly of the essence. And so, dodging no small share of displeased looks from Sonic, Sally had been left with little choice but to ride 'shotgun' with Sonic in the Tornado's single Starboard-placed passenger seat.

The trip had, so far, gone without any harsh words passing between them. Of course, Sally reminded herself as she wiped the last remnants of rain off of N.I.C.O.L.E with a survival blanket, that's because it's passed with barely any words between us at all. I'd almost prefer an argument to this. "Well, looks like the storm has passed," Sally said as the clouds began to thin into streaks, admitting the first errant rays of sunlight, dazzling streaks of split red and blue from the twin suns' light passing through the polluted upper atmosphere.

"Yeah. Looks like it," Sonic remarked in a tone which Sally thought would have sounded alarmingly like a SWATbot if it had contained slightly more emotion.

"I, uh, suppose it will be smooth flying from here," she pressed on, hoping to strike a conversation, by small talk at least, if subtlety failed.

"Never can tell," Sonic replied in the same manner as before, his eyes never leaving the horizon in front of him.

After a long silence, Sally answered "too true," and put down the survival blanket, placing a now-dried N.I.C.O.L.E back into her boot-holster. "Well, I can't come up with anything we haven't considered in the mission briefing, and there doesn't seem to be anything useful I can do with the time between here and Angel Island, so-"

"Then you probably better get some shut-eye," Sonic interrupted.

The remark stung more than Sally was willing to show, and for a moment she said nothing. "Actually, I got plenty of sleep last night," she answered finally. Sonic only shrugged, so Sally went on. "I, uh… I thought it might give us a chance to talk."

"'Bout what?"

Sally considered her response carefully. He's been through a lot, even more than the rest of us. How soon is too soon? "Well…" she shifted in her seat, turning her entire body until she faced Sonic, her left arm draped along the back of the plane's metal body. "About trying to fix what's been falling apart since we got back from Robotropolis."

After a pause, Sonic smirked. "Nah. No worries, Sal."

Sally's eyes took on a light that they had not shone for days. "You, you mean that?"

"Sure I do," Sonic answered nonchalantly. Then, as he turned to face Sally, she saw that the cocky grin was merely a parody of its former self, and it did not extend to his eyes. "I mean, it looks to me like N.I.C.O.L.E.'s totally A-Okay." Saying this his grin faded, and he turned his head back toward the horizon.

For almost a minute, there was silence between them again. "You know, Sonic," Sally finally said in a voice that laid bare the pain she felt at this treatment, "you can be really cruel sometimes."

"Yeah? Well you'd be the one who knows, wouldn't you, Your Highness?" The last two words, which Sally had heard from Sonic a number of times in her life that she could count one-handed, were hissed in a voice so thick with resentment that Sally knew immediately there would likely be no fixing their relationship.

Still I've got to try. "Sonic," she said as tenderly as she dared, "talk to me. What's this really about?"

By way of an answer, Sonic asked a question of his own. "What did they die for?"

"Who?"

"Who?" Sonic repeated incredulously. "All of 'em, princess! Catski, Dulcy, Uncle Chuck," each name was delivered more heavily than the one before, driving memories into Sally's heart like knives.

"They died for the cause, Sonic," Sally answered, completely unaware that these were possibly the worst words she could possibly have chosen.

"Yeah, that's right," Sonic remarked, snapping his fingers as if remembering something that had been right on the tip of his tongue. "The cause. I forgot. The Acornerian cause."

From the way Sonic emphasized the word 'Acornerian,' Sally realized in an instant the mistake she had made, and how she had allowed it to go too far.

"Well, here's a question, Highness," Sonic drove on. "How many more good people are gonna have to die so you can get your kingdom back?"

Sally didn't attempt to answer Sonic's question. She had, however, found her own. "I see," she finally said, turning back toward the front of the plane. The conversation could have ended there, and she would have walked away understanding fully where she stood in Sonic's eyes. But she needed one more answer. "Sonic, I can't make you answer this, but I've got to ask. When was it, exactly, that you stopped loving… no." She shook her head. "No, that's not quite right. When did you start hating me?" the silence that followed lasted for so long that she felt certain Sonic wasn't going to answer. Finally, however, he did.

"Ask Tails."

Sally breathed a deep sigh, suddenly finding the act of breathing more difficult than it had any need to be. "I see. And I was beginning to think the only one who blamed me for Tails' capture was me."

"Yeah? Well you thought mondo-wrong, Sal." With that, the final revelation of the bitterness he felt toward the one he had only one week prior referred to as 'the woman I love,' Sonic could have let the conversation end. Like Sally, however, he could simply not allow it to end quite this way. "Dammit, Sally, when did it begin?" His former coldness was replaced in an instant by a blaze of anger. "First you kept your little secret about the Little Planet getting' hit by Death Egg's cannon, and then you let Tails go on a mission you knew was too dangerous for a rookie, then-"

"No, Sonic," Sally shouted back. "I didn't allow him to go. I ordered him to go. So yes, it's my fault! Completely! there, are you happy? I admit it. I won't bother denying it. I never have. What do you want? For me to feel a little worse about it? Is that it? Is that what you want? Will that help?" For the first time in the conversation, Sonic winced, having been on the receiving end of a verbal sting. But Sally's heart had endured enough lashes from Sonic over the last few days that she was not satisfied. "No, Sonic," she answered for him. "It won't. It won't help, and it won't bring them back. Even if there were some way I could possibly hurt worse than I already do, it wouldn't bring them back." She was crying as she continued, no longer attempting to keep up the façade of the strength of royalty when no one was present other than the one who had seen that façade come down. "So what do you want, Sonic? Just tell me what you want from me?"

Sonic gave no reply. From the look on his face, however, Sally could tell she was no longer the only one in agony. But that, it seemed, did not change things. The die had been cast, and for Sonic and Sally it seemed, all bets were off. They both were crying now. And yet, neither of them felt any longer that they could cry on the shoulder of the other. And so they both cried, until their tears were so utterly spent that they could cry no more. Finally, wiping her tear-matted facial fur with the survival blanket she'd used to clean N.I.C.O.L.E, Sally spoke.

"Sonic, I don't think I've ever told you this. I guess I just thought you knew. I see now I was wrong, but…" she wiped a late-falling tear from her face as she continued, "I've never been interested in power, or a throne. I never wanted it. What I wanted was a future," she hesitated, putting emphasis on the next statement. "And a family.

"And I guess, well, somehow I just always thought that that family would be ours: yours and mine."

Sonic looked away before returning with one final arrow for Sally's already shattered heart. "I had a family, Sal. But they died for the Acorn cause."

At that, Sally felt Sonic would have been kinder to remove her safety harness and tip the craft, dumping her into the sea below than to say what he had just said. "Well, if it's any consolation to you, Sonic, I can promise you one thing. No one will ever have to die for the Acorn cause again." She paused, turning to look at Sonic, even knowing that he would not face her. "I can see now that was my mistake. And I promise you, the next time our cause is paid for in blood, it will be mine. And do you know what my only regret will be?" At this point, she knew better than to think Sonic would answer, or even could answer. "My only regret will be living long enough to see people look at me the way you've looked at me for the last four days."

Sonic winced again, this time stealing a glance in her direction: a glance that seemed regretful and…

Dare I think it, apologetic?

But at the moment when it seemed he was about to speak, Sonic froze, his eyes fixing on a point directly in front of him. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sally followed his gaze seeing nothing.

At first. Then…

"Hang on, Sal!" Sonic shouted as he threw the Tornado into a barrel roll just in time to avoid a head-on collision with a fast-moving orange object that had been nothing more than a spec on the horizon when he shouted. As the plane stabilized again, Sonic scanned the air around him. "Where's the Stormer?"

"There," Sally pointed to a position high above them and about a quarter mile west. The other plane was banking in their direction, apparently having detected the threat. "But what about that-"

"Hang on again!" Sonic interrupted, yanking back the throttle and pulling the plane into an overhead loop. As he did, Sally caught a glimpse of the orange shape again. It was an aircraft of some kind, similar in shape to one of G.U.N.'s "Eagle" fighter jets. Where the cockpit should have been, however, there was a projection reminiscent of a bird's head. "What is that thing? Some kind of new Stealthbot?"

"Nuh-uh," Sonic shouted over the roar of air flying past the two of them as he increased the Tornado's speed in an attempt to keep up the fight against the mach-speed hostile. "It's a Badnik. Tails and I call this kind Balkyries, and I've only seen them around Task Force E.G.G."

"Well whatever it is," Sally said, "it's coming around to make a pass at Freedom Stormer. Sonic, that plane's not-"

"Know that, Sal. Chill. He won't get the chance to shoot 'em down while the hedgehog's on his ass." Sonic pressed the twin triggers on the handles of the throttle, unleashing the Tornado's only weapons, a pair of forward mounted Volcan cannons. The stream of fire missed the robot, but passed close enough in front of it that it broke off its attack on the Freedom Stormer to return its attention to its assailant. Unfortunately, piloting had always been more Tails' forte than Sonic's. Sonic knew no evasive maneuver other than to throw the plane into yet another roll, and the robot, anticipating this, adjusted its course left in an attempt to ram them. Sonic's reflexes were quick, and he was able to fire another volley at it as it aligned for its final run, but it was too late to prevent the collision. On sheer inertia, the robot continued along the course its engines had thrown it into. Sonic attempted to compensate by banking the opposite direction of his roll, and this kept the Tornado from impacting the robotic hulk head-on. This was fortunate, since such a collision would no doubt have destroyed both craft on impact. It was not, however, a complete success. One of the robot's wings, which were sharpened to a razor's edge for this very reason, slashed open the Tornado's starboard fuel tank. The Tornado rocked from the impact, its consoles suddenly alive with warning lights.

"Oh, man. Mondo problemo, Sal," Sonic groaned. "That last hit got us right in the ol' fuel tank. We're losin' juice, fast."

"How much do we have left?"

"Half of the other tank."

"How far are we from Angel Island?"

"Not sure," Sonic answered. "We got a little turned around during the fight."

"You said that was a Task Force Badnik, Right?"

"Right."

"Then we must be close," Sally finished with a nod. "The question is 'how close?'

"Well," Sonic answered with his usual careful consideration, "I guess we'll just have to hope we're half a tank worth of close."

"Right," Sally agreed. "And pray we don't run into that Badnik's friends."