-Chess-

After the ground's stopped shaking and the ceiling's decided to stay where it belongs after all, at least in places, I crawl out from under my table. Sheesh! That… that Eggman! Why can't he just let us alone for a while? How come he found us so fast, anyway? I notice the one remaining light bulb flicker. So. The power's down, or at least badly iffy. I reckon I'd better go find the others, see if they're okay.

Extricating myself from under the table, I head off down the corridor, only pausing to brush some dust off my shoulder. I like being clean.

First, I turn into the room of Trick and Gaze, our human companions. Gaze is an awkward, nervous boy who always seems untidy, and only really looks at home when given binoculars or a telescope. His flyaway brown hair always makes me want to brush it down. I sort of take care of him; he's only a kid, after all. His sister, Trick, is several years older than him - three and a half, in fact - and she's only fifteen. She's very inventive, but no good whatsoever with her hands, so she just comes up with ideas. She might be clumsy, but she can aim well enough, which is fine by me.

I reach the door, jammed shut by rubble piled against it, and think really rude thoughts in the direction of Robotnik. Those two should be fine in there, of course, but Gaze especially will get worried if we don't get him out soon. I sigh. Looks like there's nothing else for it; I'm going to have to try and move this stuff myself. Oh, I'm not weak or anything, I just don't like doing it. Reluctantly, I get down on my knees and start pulling at the wreckage, raising dust. After a while, the door is clear enough for me to try opening it, so I dust off my clothing - a pink sleeveless top and denim shorts - blow some more off my black, fingerless gloves, and pull hard. Slowly, the door swings open, enough so I can see Trick, sitting in the middle of the floor with one arm protectively around Gaze. Both of them look up at me.

"Chess!" Gaze exclaims in relief. I'm called that because of my black-and-white patterning, not because I'm really any good at the game! I flick my tail at him with a beckoning motion, come on. They get up, and Trick asks a question.

"Chess, how are the others? Do you know?"

My claws involuntarily extend for a moment, not because I'm mad at her, though. I'm mad at Robotnik, for all of this, everything that's happened.

"Not yet, Trick. You two are the first ones I came to check on."

Trick and Gaze both smile at me, then their faces slide back into seriousness, making them look a few years older. They scramble out of the door and I let it go, the weight of rubble pushing it back into place. In places the corridor's ceiling has fallen in; Trick has to crawl over these parts. All I have to do is duck. There are advantages to being comparatively small. Note that I say comparatively; I'm not that short, a tiny bit taller than Shadow, maybe, which makes me the fourth tallest of us. I lead the way to our little armoury/workshop, where I hope I'll find Blaze and Crossfire.

Blaze is a tough young squirrel, red-furred and blue-eyed. He can climb even faster than I can. His intense blue stare is strange, almost impossible to hold for long, because it's almost like he sees right into your mind. Crossfire, on the other hand… Crossfire is our weapons expert. If it's got any way of shooting something, Crossfire can, and probably will, use it. He can be almost scary at times; I have to remember that his anger is aimed at Robotnik, not me. He's got an awful temper; we've almost come to blows once or twice. Nobody knows if he has another name, except maybe for Blaze - they're brothers, though they don't look too much alike. Crossfire is taller, with slate-gray fur and deep blue eyes that nobody looks into for long - years of rage, pain, and hate reflect from those eyes - and gives the impression of being ready to lash out at anyone or anything. Far too many silver-grey streaks in his fur show where he's been scarred in battle - oddly enough, Blaze hasn't a single mark on him, for all our years of fighting.

Right, here's the door. It's open. I motion to Gaze to stay back, in case I see something I'd rather he didn't, but although a lot of stuff has fallen from its racks and tables, there's no real damage. Behind an upturned table, Blaze is sitting, absently rubbing a black-gloved hand along one of the guns. He looks up and turns that strange blue-eyed gaze on me; I look away.

"Chess. I knew you'd turn up. Crossfire's back here too. He got hit on the head, but he'll be fine in a little while."

I don't question him. Blaze knows what he's talking about. His voice sounds, as ever, the same way his eyes look, totally innocent, like he's never so much as thought about fighting, about dying, regardless of all we've been through, and yet, at the same time, incredibly experienced in the ways of the world. Too experienced for a youngster like him, even in these times of constant battle. Blaze is probably one of the strangest people I've ever met, but I'm used to him, so I don't think about it much any more.

Well. I guess we'd better go find Amy and Shadow next, then maybe look for Tails if he hasn't already reached them. Here goes!