Author's Note: Would you believe that this chapter contains the very first f-bomb in 'Tribes'? I don't like a lot of swearing in stories— too often it just acts as an 'edgy' cover to spice up mediocre writing— but sometimes it's appropriate. Whenever I put a naughty word into a passage (and yeah, I always start with at least few) I always go back and try to do the passage without it, and usually it works out just fine— or even better— with the omission. Here, the flow just wasn't quite the same without it. So, with that in mind, f***ing enjoy! ;)

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"...and— lastly— they who would strike down the innocent and guilty, alike. These, above all, are the unforgivable sins; to those who would suffer them, otherwise: always beware the temptation to violate the Code..."

From the "Code of the Tribes" *

*Note: Given the oral tradition of the Code, punctuation in the above passage is subject to change depending on the person retelling it.

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"Tarnished Steel"

I.

Kakkari Nez rested his elbows on the sleek metal railing spanning the circular catwalk. His deep blue cloak ruffled in the wind, and he cinched his hood tight around his head. It covered most of the chameleon's face, allowing only his red, artificial eye to gaze out at the approaching Egg Viper. He absently tightened and relaxed the digits of his mostly-metal left hand, feeling that strange sensation of pneumatic tubes working in concert with his remaining tendons. It felt like knotted ropes being pulled over a steel blade, fraying apart with every inch. Twice his elbow managed to slip off the catwalk railing as he leaned against it; he'd yet to acclimate to that extremely distant sense of 'feeling' his metal elbow gave him. It was as if some venomous spider had numbed his arm with a bite.

It wasn't the most annoying thing he had to deal with, however. None of it was, actually. It wasn't the artificial breastplate over his chest, concealing his artificial organs as they churned their artificial fluids, either. No, the worst of it all came from the loss of the regeneration factor over a certain part of his body, and it was in a place one might least suspect.

It was his lips, if you can believe that.

Before he lost his regeneration factor Kakkari didn't even know what 'chapstick' was. He simply didn't need it. If his lips dried, then the flesh was sloughed off and replaced before it even had a chance to scab. No matter the weather outside— be it a freezer or a tinderbox— his lips were always moist, and they were always clean. Now they were a crusty mess, sore to the touch, and partially infected with some kind of opportunistic bacteria. What an indignity! A bacteria was infecting him. It made a mockery of everything he was, or at least everything that he used to be.

When he got his regeneration factor back, Kakkari thought, he would spend a whole month growing bacterial colonies in a lab, somewhere, just so he could slowly drown all the test tubes with bleach. Heck, he'd even make all the parental colonies watch as their daughter colonies died, in agony, before their eyes...

The chameleon wagged his head; he was sulking, and these days— for some reason— he tended to get very nonsensical when he sulked. Part of that had to do with certain 'beverages' he was reintroduced to in Delta Tribe; because of his regeneration factor Kakkari was always unable to experience certain 'effects' from these beverages. Now he could, and the aftereffects left his mood oscillating between feelings of grandeur and melancholy. Frankly, he still didn't really see the appeal of these beverages.

It didn't stop him from drinking them, though, and in abundance.

The mighty Viper descended from a bank of rust-colored clouds, tail section whipping with abandon. The head section came down slowly, bobbing on massive engines beneath the leviathan's 'neck'. The head landed on a small pad further along the catwalk, locking into place with a hiss from massive steel clamps. The rest of the ship remained aloft, absently snaking about in the sky. After a few seconds a sound began to echo all along the catwalk's frame. 'Sound' wasn't the right word, maybe. It was a 'thing'— very much like a sound— but so much more. It stung the nose, tickled the skin, and it made the ears hiss like speakers with their gain set too high.

All at once a series of massive tubes around the catwalk flared to life, launching concentrated beams of green light up into the ship's body. These beams hit the ship at different places, pulsing against the hull with an erratic rhythm.

Kakkari watched with disinterest as Tatu and the wingless Dame Commander disembarked from the vessel's head. The armadillo came out first, and he smoothly extended one hand to the Dame Commander when she reached the step between the Viper's door and the catwalk. She slapped that hand away with contempt.

Admittedly, that made Kakkari smile a little.

The next passenger to disembark was that creepy pipe-figurine, Dasy. The android whined on its wheeled base, clunking down on the catwalk, and sparks flew freely from its plumbing-like joints as it twisted its head about, surveying the catwalk. It blinked its silver eyes, and then went to whirring about, aimlessly wandering the sprawling catwalk.

Kakkari looked at the android's stick-like limbs, and he scratched at his own left arm. How much of his body was now just metal pipes and rivets, like that hideous thing? Well, how much did it matter, after all? Dasy was very like a skeleton, after a fashion, and what was more natural than a skeleton? Yeah, it's a pretty big change in form, but it's all got the same function, doesn't it? And functionality is key, right? In the end, what was the difference, really, in replacing steel for bone, and polymer for skin? Kakkari himself had an opinion on the matter:

There was a pretty big fucking difference.

The chameleon absently sauntered over to one of the giant tubes radiating a beam at the Viper's body. It was such a narrow beam— only a few inches across— but it was also so bright and alive. He moved his hand along the outside of the light, as if stroking the powerful beam.

"I'd keep my distance," a deep, smooth voice spoke from behind him. "If you ever plan on reproducing, someday..."

Kakkari faced the Eggman.

"I hadn't planned on it, actually." He motioned to the circular catwalk all around them. "Impressive setup you've got here."

"The 'Flying Battery' serves me well-enough," Eggman said. "Especially when I don't have time to land the Viper for recharging. That's a rather involved task. The Battery lets the Viper's body stay up in the air for over a month at a time, until she needs to set down to refill her lithium tanks."

Eggman walked off a ways and stood against the railing overlooking Genocide City.

"I could use a little lithium myself, these days," Kakkari said. "It just might help to balance my mood out."

"You're depressed, Mister Nez?"

"In mourning," Kakkari grumbled. "For my regeneration factor."

"Still on that, are we?"

The chameleon scoffed. He motioned back to the pulsing beams:

"See, now 'Flying Battery' is a little misleading, isn't it?" Kakkari said. "That would imply some kinda... well, some kind of battery that actually flies, wouldn't it?"

"I'm actually working on that one," Eggman said. "The logistics are rather difficult."

Tatu, the Dame Commander, and a whole phalanx of Delta Tribe Regulars passed by the pair; they reached an elevator beyond the catwalk and quickly descended out of sight.

"Your brain trust looks like it's in a hurry," Kakkari noted.

"They're meeting with the wolves before we launch the next... 'phase' of operations. I want to move quickly."

"Then I don't see why you wanted to meet with me up here." Kakkari shook his head. "Anyway, I take it you put my information to good use?"

Eggman gripped the railing before him tightly; his black gloves squeaked as he twisted his wrists.

"'Good' might not be the right word. Satisfying."

Eggman turned around abruptly. He removed his black glasses and stared down at Kakkari with his rotted eyes:

"Tell me, Mister Nez: does the name 'Prower' mean anything to you at all?"

Kakkari scoffed:

"Of course it does," he nodded. Good ol' Doctor James, head of Omega Tribe's scientific department. Supposedly some kinda bona-fide genius."

"Doctor Prower is much more than that: he's a polymath."

"Hmm," Kakkari scratched his chin, smirking. "And here I have trouble just keeping up with basic arithmetic..."

"When I asked you for information on all members of Filigree, as well as their previous involvement in Omega Tribe, I thought I was being somewhat clear in my desires. Why did you not tell me that James Prower is hiding with the Filigree refugees in Theta Tribe?"

The chameleon pulled back his hood, allowing his unaltered eye to come into view. He scrunched that fleshy circle of skin around his beady black pupil, making for a very fierce little squint:

"Why didn't I tell you that? Maybe 'cause he isn't. I don't know anything about where the good doctor is—"

Eggman leaned forward, snarling:

"Then why on earth would Usahla Rose tell me that? Why, in his last agonizing breaths on this miserable planet, did he say that I could find Prower with Filigree? He must have believed it, Mister Nez, because— and you can believe me on this—at the time it was pure agony for him to say anything at all."

"So you did kill Rose, huh? And tortured him, too?"

Eggman leaned against the railing. He crossed his arms and ground his yellow teeth together:

"We don't discuss field operations so freely, Nez. But I can tell you that Mister Rose is dead, that he died at my feet, in unspeakable agony, and that in his final moments he was openly begging me to end his suffering. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Kakkari looked at the man's cold-as-steel face for a moment; finally he smirked:

"Huh. Sure, whatever. Message received." He shook his head. "But I don't think Rose was talking about James Prower. He must've been talking about Miles Prower."

"Miles?"

"Jimmy's son." Kakkari sauntered over to the railing beside Eggman and struck a pose similar to the man's. "Hell of a doctor in his own right. Kid's a real wizard with the scalpel. And, like Mister Rose probably told you, Miles is in Theta Tribe's custody..."

Kakkari's voice trailed off as he noticed Dasy wheeling past them, throwing sparks in his wake; the android seemed to be doing laps around the catwalk, for some reason.

"Custody?" Eggman said. "Is he a prisoner?"

"Nah. 'Ward' might be the better term. The kit's only, like, 8-years-old, I think. And on top of that he's a little... well, mentally..." Kakkari waved his hand, perching his lips. "He's kinda special, let's say."

"He'd have to be, to be an 8-year-old surgeon," Eggman said. "What kind of nonsense is this, Nez?"

Kakkari shook his head:

"Don't ask me for the full story," he said. "All I know is that apparently good ol' Doctor James treated everything in his life like a science experiment, and when it came to having a little baby, well, he and his wife treated that like an experiment, too. Science isn't my thing, but from what I understand James and his wife did some 'distilling' of their genetic material before popping the finished egg in his wife's oven. Guy thought he'd nailed all the most 'desirable' traits in their chromosomes, and ditched all the 'inferior' ones. Tails was the product of all that."

"'Tails'?"

"Nickname."

"Why do people call him that?" Eggman asked.

"Probably because he has two of them."

Eggman looked over at Kakkari, reading the seriousness in the chameleon's face.

"Yeah, I dunno," Kakkari shrugged. "Maybe they smushed some of his stuff against the side of the test tube or something? His genes got a little scrambled, maybe? Genetic engineering works like that, doesn't it? Anyway, the whole experiment kinda went horribly wrong and horribly right at the same time: like I said, the kit is a medical genius— and he's no slouch with simple mechanics, either— but he also doesn't exactly have all his cornflakes in the box. Uh, to put it another way: his elevator doesn't quite go all the way to the top, if you get my meaning."

"Not even remotely," Eggman sighed. He scratched his chin and shook his head. "How long has the juvenile been in their custody?"

"Almost three years, maybe. He came to them a little while after the fall of Omega Tribe. He was turned over to Filigree's mistress at the same time Prower's lab shut down for good, and the doctor and his wife disappeared. Maybe that means Jimmy is died—"

Eggman shook his head:

"No, he is not. Not James Prower."

"How can you be so sure about that?"

"Prower is a lot like me," Eggman growled. "He's a survivor. Why didn't you tell me about the little fox before?"

"You asked for dossiers on all the former membersof Omega Tribe. By 'members' I assumed you meant 'active participants'. Tails would've been a toddler at the time—"

"Semantics," Eggman snarled.

"Next time be more specific. Semantics matter, mister man," Kakkari smirked.

"So does your regeneration factor. And the next time you get hung up on semantics, you can forget about any resources from my labs. I have far more loyal animals to see to, and their medical problems are far more serious than yours; they greatlyoutweigh any problems you have with that ridiculous superpower of yours."

"Is that all, or will I also be dying at your feet, begging for my life?"

"Nothing's off the table," Eggman grumbled. He looked up at the swishing body of the Egg Viper.

"You gonna set that thing down?" Kakkari asked. "Ignoring my sarcasm, I am very serious: James Prower has never been a member of Filigree. I've never met the guy. Heck, I never even heard our Big Three ever mention the man's name during my time in Filigree."

Eggman sauntered over to the Viper's head. He ran his hand along the sleek metal 'skull', scratching at the thing as he would a contented housecat.

"No, I'm not setting the Viper down," Eggman shook his head. "This mission is still on. The codename will be Operation Field Hunter. The only thing that's changed is the target."

"You want Tails, huh? You think that James will come to the kit's rescue if you nab him?"

"Something like that," Eggman said. "After all, James is a survivor, like I said, and the best survivors tend to look out for their own genes..."

"So, are we talking about mailing Tails' toenails to his daddy's last known address, or—"

"We'll be forced to hit Theta Tribe hard, I imagine." Eggman cinched up one of his black gloves, ignoring the chameleon's words. "I doubt they'll be left with more than a few dozen survivors, when the smoke clears. Of course, that's not counting any possible interference from Sonic the hedgehog."

"Well, the Code binds him a bit, doesn't it? I mean, he never officially signed off on the whole 'Theta Tribe' thing, did he? That makes Asher and Fionnghal's little group homeless, technically." Kakkari pointed at the man. "And I hate to point it out to you, but doesn't the Code bind you, as well? Been a while since I've checked the good ol' Code of the Tribes, but I think you've still gotta give those miserable hobos some advance notice of any attack, don't you?"

"Under the Code? Yes. But we will not."

"I doubt your precious doggies will approve," Kakkari said.

"They won't have any complaints at all."

Eggman sauntered off, hands folded genteelly behind his back.

Kakkari watched the man walk. The chameleon perched his chapped lips:

"Yeah, sure," he muttered. "I'm sure the wolves won't care at all that you're bending the Code over a table. It's not like they militantly defend its terms, right down to the punctuation, or anything..."

"Wolves do uphold the Code, militantly."

"Gah!" Kakkari spun about. Dasy was right behind him, patiently lurking over his shoulder like a horror movie monster.

"And," Dasy continued, "wolves do defend the Code, even down to its punctuation." The android tilted its head. "In point of fact, armed fighting has occurred directly because of ambiguous punctuation in the Code. One interpreter might mistakenly use a colon instead of a period, for example, or vice versa. This is especially prone to happen with semicolons; nobody seems to use them correctly."

"What the hell are you doing out here anyway, robot?"

Dasy looked left, and then right, head craning awkwardly. He returned his head to level, blinking at the chameleon:

"Exercising."

"Exercising? Are you making fun of me?" Kakkari growled.

"Hard to tell, isn't it?"

"Why don't you take a tumble off the catwalk, pipe boy?"

Dasy looked over the catwalk railing, gazing down the thirty-story drop. When he looked back up at Kakkari his head sparked again:

"Drop distance is approximately 350 feet," he explained. "In general, I must stay within approximately 200 feet of the Egg Viper at all times."

"What? You got separation anxiety?" Kakkari scoffed.

"Of a fashion."

"You better remind your boss about the wolf honor code," Kakkari said. "Seriously: he'ssupposed to be some kind of freakin' genius, and he's about to break it into tiny pieces—"

"He is not. Because of the wolves' interpretation of the Code of the Tribes their honor code does not apply to the following individuals: senior members of the organization formerly called 'Omega Tribe', soldiers in the Omega Tribe special operations branch above the rank of 'lieutenant', Doctor James Prower, his wife, and any personnel associated with 'Prower Technologies'. Furthermore, any operation directly involving the 'acquisition' of these targets is similarly unbound by the wolf honor code."

Kakkari scoffed. He shook his head.

"They're hypocrites, huh? So their 'honor' does have its limits, does it?"

Dasy tilted his head to the opposite side:

"Yes. Wouldn't yours?" He asked.

Eggman walked back to Kakkari's side:

"It is for that reason, Mister Nez, the wolves were allowed to participate in the assault on Ramoth. We gave no warning there, either. But, so long as all precautions were taken to prevent unnecessary loss of life, every means was available to me and the wolves in pursuing Usahla Rose."

"Mmm. How'd that work out for you? The 'loss of life' thing, I mean?"

"Dozens died in the Ramoth invasion," Eggman said. "Soldiers, mostly. Poor fellows were just protecting their land, really. A few civilians trampled each other in the panic, too. Ah, and a couple of kids were mentally scarred in the process, too."

"Juveniles," Kakkari corrected him.

"No," Dasy wagged his head. "They were 'kids', actually."

"So tell me this, Mister Eggman, sir," Kakkari said. "How are you gonna 'prevent unnecessary loss of life' when you charge into the Thallomoor? Like you said, Theta Tribe won't go down without a fight, and a bloody one, at that. You'll have to kill off the Banshee, too, most likely. I don't see that working out too well for you..."

"I have no intention of fighting the hedgehog," Eggman snarled. The man again walked up to the massive skull of the Viper and surveyed its fearsome curves. "If he intends to fight me? Well, that's a different story. The Viper is far more than she seems, Mister Nez. For all its polished glory this vessel is caked in its fair share of blood..."

The chameleon smirked:

"Caked in blood, huh? Well, it doesn't really show the rust, does it?"

Eggman faced the chameleon:

"I have no overriding wish to tarnish it any further at this time. I assume that your hatred of Filigree's leadership doesn't extend to all its personnel, does it, Nez?"

Kakkari's smirk spread:

"Heh. And I assume that you're about to ask me to do something that'll help you prevent that 'unnecessary loss of life', am I right?"

"You're most astute."

"A field operation?"

"Befitting a Field Hunter."

Kakkari approached the head of the Viper and mockingly scratched at the thing's 'chin':

"And here I thought I was supposed to be your grand investigator."

"You are. Tatu is currently downstairs arguing to everyone that we simply can't attack Theta Tribe: they're too entrenched in the woods; their security setup is too strong to overcome; the Banshee is too powerful a threat. Hell, the weather is too humid. Take your pick. He's been badmouthing the idea ever since we got back on the Viper in Ramoth. That's loyalty, for you, isn't it? I suppose one must make do with what one has. But if, through a cunning secret mission, you were able to acquire the target of this operation without firing a single shot then you would both raise your own profile in Delta Tribe while subsequently driving a further wedge between Tatu and the wolves."

Kakkari scratched his own chin:

"While simultaneously weakening support for him amongst the Delta Tribe Regulars, too. Huh. It might make things easier for you to, uh, 'dismiss' him, when that slimy armadillo finally outlives his usefulness." Kakkari looked up at Eggman. "Wow. I gotta apologize. You've really worked this whole thing out, haven't you?"

"Of course I have, Mister Nez." Eggman leaned down closer to the chameleon's face. "After all: I'm some kind of freakin' genius."

Kakkari faced the city skyline, leaning on the catwalk railing once again. He looked out into the distance for quite some time.

"So let me get this straight: you trust me to wander back to my old team, kidnap a helpless juvenile, and then come back with him?"

"I don't 'trust' you at all, Mister Nez," Eggman said. "However, given your history with that 'team', and your desire to see your regeneration factor returned to you, I can accurately hypothesize what action you'll take."

"To a certainty, huh?"

"Need can produce loyalty, of a fashion. And I predict your compliance to better than a five-percent margin of error."

Kakkari smiled:

"Kinda unscientific, isn't it? I thought all the best researchers go for a one-percent error rate?"

"One must make do with what one has, Mister Nez."

Kakkari faced Eggman. He shrugged:

"You guys in Delta Tribe seem to spend a lot of time kidnapping juveniles," he said. "It's kinda weird. Now, regularly, as a point of my own personal honor, I would find that kinda practice abhorrent."

Eggman stepped toward the chameleon:

"And in this situation?" He cooed.

Kakkari's blood-red eye narrowed into a slit, the steel aperture hissing as it closed:

"My honor does have its limits, Mister Doctor Eggman, sir..."

Eggman's lips twisted into a thin smile. He looked behind him at Dasy, still doing laps around the catwalk:

"Dasy!" He yelled. "Set the Viper down. We won't be needing her in the immediate future."

Once the android shuttled back into the ship Eggman again looked to the chameleon:

"Operation Field Hunter is entirely your play, Mister Nez. Just tell our quartermaster what you need—"

"A ship," Kakkari interrupted. "Something small. Pathetic might be the right word. Let your boys use it for a little target practice beforehand. So long as they don't hit anything 'vital'."

Eggman nodded:

"I believe I understand you," he said. "And what else will you require?"

Kakkari scratched at his artificial chest, rubbing the metal breastplate:

"Surgery," he growled.