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Sonic the Hedgehog: Guardians

Chapter 1: Fire and Stone

In his dreams, he was in Westopolis.

Though not so much in Westopolis, but above it.

And not so much in his dreams, but rather, nightmares.

Or memories.

He looked at the thirty men and women in the Grey Hawk. 3rd Platoon, Ant Troop – sent out of Fort Fielding, as soon as word came in that Westpolis was under attack. Under attack by whom, and in what numbers, was information that was still unknown, but given the red sky, and the giant hole that had formed in it, it was safe to say the attackers weren't of this Earth.

Not sane, perhaps, but safe.

He looked out through one of the helicopter's many portholes. In the sky was a small fleet of Grey Hawks, as United Federation forces moved into the war-zone. On the Aaronovich Highway below them, a column of armoured vehicles and walkers was making its way into the city, while civilians were trying to make their way out. But none of it compared to the hole in the sky. A storm-cloud that had formed above Westopolis, and was disgorging…things.

Things he couldn't make out, and that no-one had been able to identify. Reportedly, a flock of Beetle drones had been sent directly into the hole to intercept the invaders, and had been destroyed before they'd let off a shot. Taken out either by the winged creatures pouring out of the tear, or by the larger, bi-pedal beings that were being dropped straight into the city below. Beings that, as he listened to the radio chatter, were moving outward from their insertion point.

"All units, be advised, invaders have advanced five klicks from drop zone."

He shifted his gaze to the streets below – cast in a blood-red shadow by the tortured sky. In it, were flashes of light – red and blue, from police units. Coupled with violet bursts of energy (directed to those red and blue lights), and the odd explosion.

"All units, be advised, Wolf, Rhino, and Raptor Troops are in full retreat."

"Roach and Kiwi Troops are still failing to respond."

"Aardvark Troop is holding the Sargaso Bridge, requesting armoured support."

"End of the world, isn't it?"

"Enemy is confirmed to be using directed-energy weapons, theorized to be ionized plasma."

"Never thought I'd live to see it."

He tuned to look at Master Sergeant DiBella. The platoon's NCO, and the second most important person in this helicopter. Currently standing beside him, and looking out through another porthole.

"Always thought demons were meant to come from below," she murmured. "Not from above."

He frowned. "Don't know that they're demons, Master Sergeant."

She fingered something around her neck. "Maybe you don't…"

He squinted through the gloom of the helicopter. Around her neck were dog tags, just like every other trooper in the Grey Hawk. But beside them was a symbol he didn't recognise. A golden being with a red ruby in the centre, from which extended two gold wings. And she must have noticed the confusion, because she held it out to him and gave him a grim smile.

"Sigil of Solaris," she said.

He stared at her.

"Soleanan, born and bred." She fingered the sigil, bringing it to her lips. "Probably going to die one as well."

"Fuck, small arms are doing nothing against the larger ones!"

"What the hell is HQ doing? Where's our reinforcements?!"

"…advised…back…retreat…"

"Reports…cities…it's not just here…"

He stood up and put a hand on DiBella's shoulder. "Your head in the game?" he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and weary.

"If it isn't, put it there," he said. "Because I need it, you need it, and everyone else here needs it."

They looked around the Grey Hawk. Every trooper was looking at the pair, or trying to hide that they were looking. Pressure or not, however, DiBella nodded.

"Of course sir." She put the sigil back under her uniform and tapped her helmet. "Head in the game."

He didn't smile, but merely nodded, trying to avoid emotional engagement. If…when, this ended, he'd be transferred out of Ant Troop. He might have held the rank of colonel, but the reason he was here was because of combat experience more than anything else.

"Colonel Warner, come in."

He wondered how many in Ant Troop knew that. Knew what he and his old team had once been assigned to do. And ipso facto, what had caused that same team to be broken up.

"Colonel Warner of Ant Troop, come in."

He put a hand to his ear. "Warner here."

"All units, be advised, we have unconfirmed sightings of Sonic the Hedgehog in Westpolis."

His heart skipped a beat – the transmission wasn't meant for him, but still…

"Warner, I'm redirecting Ant Troop to Sargaso Bridge."

He frowned. "Sir, I understood that we were being deployed in downtown Westpolis."

"Downtown doesn't exist anymore, Colonel. Sargaso does. We lose that bridge, and the hostiles have free access to Oakvale Heights."

"But if there's any civilians there, we-"

"You have your orders, Colonel. Command out."

The line was cut. All that was left was the hum of the engines. And the eyes of thirty men and women looking at him. They might not have heard the words of General Stone, but they'd certainly heard his.

"Possible sighting…Shadow…downtown…"

DiBella gave him a look. "Sir?"

"Reading atmospheric…bance…"

He looked away, and put a hand to his ear. "Ant Troop, new drop zone is at Sargaso Bridge. Divert course accordingly."

He felt the helicopter swerve, and out of the porthole, he saw ever other helicopter in Ant Troop do the same. The pilot of each acknowledged, some of them able to hide the unease in their voices. Downtown Westopolis was where the bulk of the city's population resided. It was on the edge of Eastside Park, where most would have gone tonight to see the arrival of the Black Comet. If they weren't going downtown, then it stood to reason that either Command had other priorities than rescuing civilians, or…

He swallowed, reflecting that maybe there were no civilians left to save.

"Satellite scans…up…"

He wondered what his old team was doing right now. Whether they'd been thrown into the deep end like he had.

"Command…read…this?"

If he'd ever see them again.

"Weather…up…"

But then, the troopers under his command were his team now. So looking at them, taking a breath, he began to speak.

"Your heads in the game?" he asked.

No-one answered.

"I said, are your heads in the game?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Good." He took hold of the rail above, keeping his feet as a wave of turbulence hit the helicopter. "Because we're going feet first into the fire, and-"

"Incoming!"

He never found out who said that, as one of the Grey Hawks of Ant Troop detonated in mid-air. The shockwave of the blast sending a wave of air into their own helicopter, shaking it around. Causing him to fall down.

"What the hell was that?!" DiBella exclaimed.

As if in answer, another beam of light cut through the sky, destroying another helicopter.

"Atmosphere…energy spikes…"

He stared in horror, as a third helicopter was destroyed by the laser.

"Atmospheric disturbance," he whispered.

"Grey Hawk Four, loosen up! Loosen-"

Grey Hawks Four and Five were destroyed. Five, by the blue light. Four, by the debris – metal tearing through metal, sending a burning heap falling through the sky. Plus, the thirty or so soldiers within it.

"Pilots, take us down!" he yelled. "Now!"

The voice of Grey Hawk Twenty came over the radio. "Sir, be advised, we're still six klicks out from the Sargaso Bridge and-"

She never finished her sentence, as another blast of blue light cut through the sky.

"Ant Troop, drop drop drop!"

The remaining of helicopters of Ant Troop dipped through the sky. Returning to the surface upon which the animal of their namesake crawled. He looked upon the troopers under his command, from DiBella, to every private. Many of them with their eyes down, many more with their eyes upon him. And when he spoke, it was to 3rd Platoon, as much as the rest of Ant Troop.

"We're landing in Downtown," he said. "We're gonna hit the ground running. We're going to kill every E.T. we find, save anyone we can, fight our way to Sargaso Bridge, and-"

He never finished the sentence as a stream of blue light cleaved through the rear of the Grey Hawk. Heat washed over him as he stumbled back – of ionized gas. Of burning metal. Of incinerated flesh.

People screamed. He held onto one of the upper handrails as the Grey Hawk went into a spin, heading down to the city below.

"Grey Hawk One is down, Grey Hawk One is down!"

He could hear the chatter over the radio.

He could see helicopters descending – some by their own volition, some taken down by the spears of light.

"Hold onto something!"

He could hear his own voice, lost in the din, as the Grey Hawk descended upon a street littered with rubble, ruined vehicles, and the dead.

"Brace!"

He could even swear he saw a streak of yellow light, making its way through the gloom of the streets below…

But then the Grey Hawk crashed into the street. Tearing through concrete, metal warping, people shouting.

And as he blacked out, he saw nothing.

…

…

…before he woke up, and-

"Gah!"

Dutch Warner, still alive, and still a colonel, woke up in his seat. Rubbing his forehead and eyes, he took a breath, followed by two more. More than one shrink insisted that the dreams weren't just dreams, but signs of some fancy acronym he didn't care to name. So while he didn't agree with their prognosis, he was willing to do the dance they advised him to.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in…and try to forget everyone who'd stopped breathing during the Black Arms invasion of Earth.

He sighed, as his breathing steadied. As his heart slowed its pounding, and his forehead became less sweaty. He'd survived the crash. So had quite a few troopers of Grey Hawk One, and most of Ant Troop's helicopters had managed to land in Downtown Westpolis. What happened after that, well…

Well, that war was over, he reminded himself. Right now, the planet was in the middle of another one. A conflict where the threat didn't come from a race of invading aliens, but from a man who'd actually fought against those aliens. Of course, only out of self-preservation…returning his gaze to the screens in front of him, tracking the advance of Eggman's forces in real-time, he was reminded that of all the words that could be used to describe Doctor Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik, "altruist" was the last that came to mind.

There goes one, Dutch thought to himself, as he saw the tide of red spread over the map, subsuming the points of blue. And another one. And another one. He frowned. And there…it…goes.

The map was that of the planet, zoomed in on the lands to the south of the United Federation. On the tac-screen, the blue dots represented villages that were falling to the Eggman Empire. The red representing the empire's advance. Because if one thing that over two decades in the military had taught him, it was that red always meant bad things bar a few exceptions. And while he had footage of one of those exceptions, of a red echidna tearing Egg Pawns apart with his bare hands, it was still the exception that proved the rule.

The rule of the last few months being that the so-called Eggman Empire had finally become an empire, and like all empires, it was willing to expand itself as far as possible. Which, he reflected, zooming out of the map, was expansion covering most of the planet. A sea of red with a few specks of blue. And given the reported loss of Sonic a few months prior, that was as apt a metaphor as you could get in this ever-darkening world.

He sipped some coffee, remembering his strained history with the blue hedgehog. Hard to hate someone who'd saved the planet more time than he had fingers, but still, embarrassment was like falling in sewerage. You could have the stains removed, but the stench would remain.

"Still burning the midnight oil?"

He frowned, and zoomed down to one of the dots on the map. Hoping that Lieutenant Oxford would take the hint that he wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"Or are you drinking coffee instead?"

Alas, hope in this world was like hedgehogs – quickly seen, and then just as quickly out of sight.

"I mean, I'm more of a tea girl myself," she continued, and he detected a small quiver in her voice. "Like, not that tea's easy to get these days, since the UF mostly imported it from Chun-nan, and trade routes are really a bitch right now given that-"

He spun around in his chair and looked at her.

"Yeah, I'm just going to stop talking now."

He knew that was a state of affairs that would last a few minutes at best – Oxford had come to him for a reason, and talks of oil and beverages aside, he knew that she'd get to it eventually. But until then, he spun back round in his chair and looked back at the screen. Frowning, as he beheld the view that the spy satellite had given him.

"Bloody hell," Oxford whispered.

Not so much bloody, Dutch thought, but still a form of hell.

Buildings ablaze. Egg Pawns marching through the street. Some of them equipped with wrist-flamers, consigning every structure they found to the fire. Others carrying lances, marching out creatures of all shapes and kinds, ranging from aardvarks to zebras. Most of them marching in order, resigned to their fate. The Resistance was failing, the Eggman Empire was advancing, and the United Federation was doing nothing to change either of those facts. Even as the empire spread north, the UF manned the walls, but made no move beyond them, or even let people fleeing the robots' advance to cross them.

A "border crisis," the president had called it. Casually dismissing that the crisis wasn't just on the other side of the border, but across the whole planet. That in all his attempts at world domination, Doctor Eggman had never stated that humanity could keep their own territories.

"You know," Oxford said. "Watching this eight hours a day could make a person a mite depressed."

He glared at her.

"And I'm not saying you're depressed, but-"

"Why are you here, Lieutenant?"

"Why am I here? Well, that's a good question that…oh, you mean why am I here-here? Not metaphysically-here?"

He was glad he'd been assigned to surveillance duty, he reflected. If he'd had a gun, he might have been tempted to use it.

"Well, okay, as to that, um…" She ran a hand by her neck, glancing aside. Whispering, "Commander Tower has agreed to see you."

He stared at her.

"Like, right now."

He stared at her.

"And that he's only going to give you ten minutes, and that it's otherwise out of his hands, and sir, why are you looking at me like that?"

In spite of the scenes displayed behind him, in spite of the twit who could have simply called in front of him, in spite of everything that had gone wrong in the world over the last few months, he was able to smile. Even as he murmured, "you know, you could have just called, right?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," she said. "But, y'know…"

"No, I don't know?"

"Old teammates? Getting the band back together." She glanced around, before leaning in. Whispering, "just so you know…the team's ready. You give the signal, we're up in the air."

After similarly glancing around, he looked Oxford in the eye, and whispered, "we?"

Her face fell a bit. "Well, them…"

Don't sound do disappointed, lieutenant, you're not the one who'll take the fall. He glanced back at the screens behind him. The village was still burning. The creatures were still being herded – on their way to factories where they would be encased in steel. Fated to serve the Eggman Empire in whatever ways the madman deemed fit. A group of creatures that he couldn't save, but…

"Sir?"

He looked back at her. "We never talked," he murmured.

He was afraid that Oxford was going to do, or say, something stupid. But thankfully, she remained silent. Giving him a small nod as he left the room.

Sometimes, he wondered if Oxford was all there.

But then, you didn't get to join the Guardian Units of Nations if you were stupid.