Kal would live.

Jan was sure of it now. When they'd taken his armor off it became evident that the blasters hadn't burned through very much. Most of the fur on his chest was incinerated, and he had some harsh burns, but the most life-threatening injury was a possible concussion from his fall.

Of course, if that knowledge was supposed to make her feel better, it hadn't. Not in the least.

Kal was the animal she most cared about. She had convinced herself, long ago, that if not for Robotnik Kal would have made her a mother by now. Instead, she'd nearly made him a corpse.

She sat by his side now, holding his paw. She sat in a chair facing him as he lay on a bed. It was her fault that he'd been shot. Naturally, the Swatbots fired on the greatest threat, and the animal carrying the largest gun was the biggest threat. The largest gun was the long-range rifle Kal had been using to hit the fuel grenade. By setting things up the way she had, Jan had guaranteed that every Swatbot in range would fire on Kal. In truth, it was a miracle things weren't worse.

And it was her fault.

His eyes opened. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness. The doctors here were always running low on medication, so the only thing they could do from a chemical point of view was anesthetize him to dull the pain. They had other, well practiced burn treatments, but only the anesthetic to treat the pain. But they hadn't given him much, because of the danger of concussion. The result was that he still went blank at times, and still felt a great deal of pain. Of all the possible outcomes, this was the worst.

He squeezed her paw. "Hi, Jan." His voice was drowsy but clear.

"Hi, Kal," she managed.

"Did it work?"

"What?"

"The trump card."

"Yes," she said bitterly. "You hit it."

"It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"I don't know."

"Sure it was. There was no other way. It would have been worth it if I had died."

"No!"

"Why not?"

She was bitter, some at him, most at herself. "I've tried not to care about you, but I can't. I don't know… if you'd died… Damn it, why couldn't you just be a worse soldier? I wouldn't have to use you like this!"

She started crying again. "Well," said Kal, cautiously, "it's good that we have good soldiers, isn't it?"

"Not when they're you," she said. "Kal, I don't think I'll ever be able to give you orders again. I love you too much. I love you, and yet I have to order you into combat, where you can die… I can't do it!"

"Then I won't come back," said Kal.

"What?"

"The Hive needs you more than it needs me. If you can't give me orders, then I won't fight."

"What a cold reason," Jan said bitterly.

"What do you want, then?" he said, her bitterness rubbing off on him.

"I don't know. I'm tired, Kal. I want to be a wife and a mother. I want to make something grow. I've fought for too long, and I've got ulcers, and my mind is breaking down. I close my eyes and I see burning Swatbots marching down a canyon. And everyone depends on me. I just want it all to go away."

She was supposed to be here to comfort Kal, but she went to him for comfort. Broken, she crawled to his side and buried her muzzle in the pillow beside his head.

She wept some more. When she paused for a moment, she withdrew back to her chair. She wanted to talk to him, but she couldn't. He'd drifted back asleep.

Tails was panting heavily as he crossed a line drawn in the dirt.

"Way to go, Tails!" said Sonic. "That's a supersonic job you did, way past your last try."

"Sonic, you know what?"

"What?"

"Training isn't fun anymore."

"C'mon," said Sonic evasively, "how fun was hide-and-seek with Antoine? Puh-lease, he could never hide!"

"Sonic," said Tails, annoyed, "I mean it."

"Yeah. Well…" Sonic scratched his head and avoided Tails' eyes. I have no idea what to say to that, he thought.

"Sonic, you didn't design this, did you?"

"Design what?"

"This obstacle course. Or that rope thing. Or the stuff we've been doing the past two weeks. I don't think you came up with it."

"Why not?"

"Because if you're training with me in the day, and hitting Robotropolis at night, you don't really have the time to make all this stuff up."

"True. Besides, I'm not that creative." No harm in admitting that, he reflected.

"No more 'tracking' stuff or things I'd use in the forest. All the exercises we've done have been about Robotropolis, right?"

Tails was hitting them all. Sonic couldn't lie to him, not that it would do any good. "Right."

"The training's gotten really hard since then. An' it getting hard and it being about Robotropolis came at the same time."

"Uh-huh, two weeks ago."

"So, since two weeks ago, someone is trying to make me a real Freedom Fighter. A scared one. And it isn't just you."

"You're on a roll, big guy."

"Who is it?"

"I think you can guess this one, Tails."

"Aunt Sally would never let me be a Freedom Fighter!"

"Guess again, Tails."

Tails paused for a moment, surprised. "Sally did all of this?"

"She designed it. Rote an' I built it. Rote doesn't know everything, but he does know we're training someone real tough. Sal decides what to teach you, an' how. She's behind you all the way, lil' bro."

Tails looked confused. "I thought Sally just wanted me to be safe 'n happy."

"More than anything, Tails. She loves you more than anything."

"Then why is she letting me be a Freedom Fighter?"

"I only kinda know," said Sonic. "Part of it was she saw somethin' that made her think we're farther behind. She's nervous now, she knows somethin's up. She knows you can be good, way past good at this. The other part… It's 'cause she loves you."

"What?"

"It's like you said. You wanna be a Freedom Fighter, you wanna do it right. Sally doesn't want to train you to die. She loves you too much. If you're gonna be a Freedom Fighter, she'll make you the best one she can."

Tails still looked troubled. "Hey, don't think it's easy for her. It tears her up. I talked to her about it, when she first decided to do it. Have you ever seen Sal cry? She did that day."

There was a long silence, then Sonic hopped up. "So! You wanna do the obstacle course again, or do we blow past it and move on?"

"I'll do it again," said Tails quietly.

The only sound was the pitter-patter of Skink's feet. He was headed to the infirmary, hoping Jan would still be there.

She was. Why Skink had thought otherwise was beyond him.

Skink waited for her to notice him. A few minutes passed as he waited, but Skink was patient.

"Hi, Skink."

There, she'd noticed. He opened his eyes and approached. "I am here," he said. "I bring you some things."

He slung the backpack off of his shoulders. First was a blaster. "Since Jan dropped her blaster, I got her one. I made sure it works," he said as he handed it to her. "No charge drain on this."

"Are you sure?"

"It was mine."

Jan looked up at him. "Then you won't have a blaster," she said.

"Skink will find one. All those Swatbots in the valley. Won't be hard."

She looked unsure, but said nothing, so Skink moved on. "Food for Jan," he said. "Jan had no breakfast and it's almost lunch. We need Jan to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Skink said nothing, merely kept unloading the food for her.

"I said I'm not hungry."

"I can not say what Jan must do," Skink said hesitantly. "It is important that Jan eats."

"Important? To who? I'm sick of doing things for the Hive."

"Do it for Skink?"

Jan was still for a moment, then dropped her eyes, unwilling to look at Skink. Skink could not understand what Jan was thinking, so he decided to press on. "There is a plant on this mountain. When crushed, it makes a liquid that heals burns."

He produced a vial with a pitifully small amount of liquid. "It won't heal Kal alone, but it will help."

Jan stared at him in disbelief. "How much of this is there?" she asked.

"Only one plant," he said. "Yes. Only one. I took some of it."

"Is there more?"

Skink shook his head. "I had to leave some. For the plant to grow." That was part of the answer, anyway.

"Why use it now?" she said. "Kal is going to live."

"So Jan will be strong."

"What?"

Skink struggled to say. "While Kal is hurt, Jan is hurt. I don't like Jan to be hurt. So if I help Kal, I help Jan."

Jan accepted Skink's gift with a trembling paw. "Thank you," was all she could say.

But 'thank you' was all Skink needed.

Sally was working in one of Knothole's gardens. There were so many things she loved about it. Aside from the fact that it produced fresh vegetables, which helped liven up the sometimes dull Knothole diet, working in the gardens just felt good. Doing something with her paws was relaxing and fulfilling.

It was also one of Sally's quiet spites. If she could make something grow, it was like laughing directly to Robotnik's destructive face.

In the distance, she heard Sonic's approach. He wasn't running at maximum speed, which gave her a few seconds before he arrived.

She stood up, easing the kinks out of her back, and left the garden to welcome them. Surprisingly, she thought, Sonic had kept his word and returned before nightfall. Well, since she had to work with him to finalize the night's raid, maybe he'd realized it was a good idea to be responsible. You know, just for a change of pace. Not that he'd do it again.

Sonic had slowed down almost completely—slow for him, but a fast sprint for a normal animal. There was the reason, next to him—he was pushing Tails to run the last part of the trip home.

They crossed whatever finish line they'd established and slowed to a fast walk. Sonic supported Tails by putting the kit's arm over Sonic's shoulder. Tails looked tired but happy.

"Hi, you two!" called Sally as she approached them. "Welcome back."

"Yo, Sal!" replied Sonic. "What's happenin'?"

"You haven't been gone that long, Sonic," said Sally.

"Ha, ha," said Sonic. "Not funny, Sal."

"How are you, Tails? Did you have fun?"

"I guess so," said Tails, dubiously.

"What did you two do today?"

"He knows," said Sonic simply.

That stopped Sally in her tracks. She looked at their faces: Sonic with an odd flat expression, as if waiting for the next move; Tails with a shadow on his face that had never been there before.

Sally's emotions swirled, each passing in turn. She briefly felt mad at Sonic for revealing everything, but Sally let that go; she wasn't sure she would have been able to hold the truth from Tails. Then again, what good would holding the truth do?

It would hide her shame.

Yes. Her shame at allowing Tails to enter her world. A world of pain and fear.

She dropped to her knees and hugged Tails. She pressed her cheek to his. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Tails wasn't sure why Sally was acting so weirdly. Then he felt something on his cheek: a tear.

She was crying—but in a way only Tails could know. He hugged her back, and his anxiety grew.

Sally stood up. "You two must be hungry," she said, acting as if nothing was wrong. "Sonic, you two go eat. After you're done, put Tails to bed, then come to my hut when you're ready."

"Sure thing, Sal," he said. "C'mon, big guy, I'll fix us some chili dogs."

"All right," Tails said, pretending more enthusiasm than he felt. But as they walked, he felt again the tear on his cheek.

It burned him, but he had no desire to wipe it off. It was an expression to him, a gift, of so many feelings words failed to express.

Pain and guilt in doing this to him. Fear in what might happen. Happiness in his maturity, and sadness in the same. Shame in the covert manner she'd been using. Inadequacy in the job she was doing. Trepidation in the approach to his future. Hope for something later.

And love. Love that could only be expressed by this painful gift, unseen by eyes but real as a slap in the face. Or a tear.

"Tosul, it's time to wake up."

"At least let me finish what I'm…" started Tosul. He shut up, feeling stupid; that conversation had ended hours ago. Gaunt had done it to him again.

Gaunt's voice came over the intercom. "Tosul, please report to the command room."

Naturally, thought Tosul, who was already moving. Tosul didn't wear armor and rarely went around armed; he was of more use to everyone in the command room. If there was a circumstance when he needed to have a blaster, he was unlikely to make a great difference.

Tosul's room was close to the command room; he was there in no time. "Here I am," he said. Gaunt stood up from Tosul's place, and Tosul sat down.

Tosul immediately began gathering needed personnel: the armorer, the three available combat teams, and—most painfully—Jan. While he contacted some of them, he could divide his attention and gather incoming data. This was why they needed him: no one was faster or more accurate at interpreting the data from the magnetic detectors in the valleys, and he could do it while contacting people.

But for Jan, he'd need all his attention. She was badly shaken up from this morning, so getting her to come would be tough.

"Jan," he said, "please come to the command room."

"Why?"

Because from what I see on my monitors, we're toast unless we've got your mind, he thought to himself. But he controlled his tongue. "We need to talk to you."

It was obvious she knew there was trouble afoot, but she allowed herself to believe it wasn't bad. "Okay."

Thank you, Jan, thought Tosul. You're the difference between a defensible Hive and a doomed Hive.

Tosul continued to gather data. "Observatory, is there a Spy Eye active?"

It was nice to have Observatory respond, but the response itself only made matters worse. "Confirmed," came the answer from Observatory. "Clarify, one Spy Eye active, three reserves."

THREE reserves? That alone was enough to make Tosul break out in sweat. Spy Eyes were rare here, because of the mountains' powerful magnetic anomalies that never failed to wreck Mobians' hover technology. Spy Eyes in the mountains had a life expectancy of about ten minutes. By using them sequentially, they could expect to have observation for close to forty minutes. If they were willing to sacrifice four Spy Eyes, they were very serious about this drive.

But Tosul could tell that just by the numbers. Thirty Swatbots for the vanguard alone! This force was not as big as the one they'd trumped, but the difference wasn't tremendous, and they had no trump cards left.

Tosul began to call up the two combat teams that had fought once today. That made five in total, which still felt totally inadequate.

I don't know how we're gonna squeeze out of this one.

Jan arrived in the command room before he finished. "Is it that bad?" she said.

"Yes," Tosul said. "We've got close to a hundred and twenty Swatbots coming in through grid 5, block B. We have a half-dozen exits in that grid, and the Swatbots are in visual range of 3. The other 3 will be in range within the next fifteen minutes. The enemy has Spy-Eye coverage and will for approximately thirty-five minutes."

It got harder to say as he kept talking. He could only imagine how mind-numbing it was for Jan.

He watched her through the reflection on his monitors. She seemed inert, her face completely blank.

Jan, he thought, please. I know it's hard for you. I hate to have to ask this of you, but we have no choice.

Please, Jan. Please.

Gaunt didn't ask her.

"Jan, look at me."

Gaunt moved and stood in front of Jan. Tosul could only see Gaunt's back, but got the impression he had grabbed her muzzle.

"No! Don't touch me!" screamed Jan. She knew what was coming, but it was too late.

"Jan! Look at me!"

"No!"

"Jan! Take charge!"

Tosul, in the reflection of his monitors, saw Jan's flailing limbs grow weaker. She gave a full body shudder and seemed to stall, but immediately she sprung back against him. "No! Let go!"

"Take charge!" Gaunt repeated, his voice filled with force.

"No!" Jan was still trying to defy him, but her voice was growing weaker. Her arms were dropping to her sides. She was becoming as a child now, futilely fighting someone bigger and stronger. Still she fought, but she was losing.

"Take charge!"

"No! Please, don't do this!" She had almost nothing left. Gaunt's force of will was overpowering her; her strength was bleeding from her body. She wasn't challenging him anymore; she was begging him, her voice plaintive and helpless. Her will was on its last legs; she was desperate. "Please! Let me go!"

Gaunt repeated it one last time. "Jan, take charge!"

She was broken. The breath seeped out of her. The room grew deathly quiet and far colder. With that command, her body went slack. If not for Gaunt holding her up, she might have fallen.

Gaunt eased her into a chair and stepped aside. "Jan, we need to stop the Swatbots."

"We'll sacrifice two of our exits," she said, immediately. Her voice was dull and lifeless. "We'll dispatch combat teams to our exits. We'll draw the Swatbots in, then destroy the exits and any bots that follow us. Two runs of this treatment, while they may not stop the offensive, will bleed it. Two combat teams to each exit we plan to use, a fifth for clean up."

"You know what to do, Jan," said Gaunt. "Take charge."

Jan rose and approached Tosul's position. "What are the positions of the exits in the area?"

Tosul wiped away his tears and struggled to regain his composure. "Um… here," he said, drawing up the map.

"Deploy the teams," she commanded him.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

To be continued…