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Sonic the Hedgehog: Guardians

Chapter 4: Dirty Little Secrets

In the chill of the pre-dawn air, four commandos made their way down the hill that led to the ruins of Crescent View.

E.P. 001, Dutch, taking point. E.P. 002, Vincent, continually scanning the area as he ran for any EM emissions that might indicate functioning robots. E.P. 003, Honch, carrying a heavy machine gun like it was nothing, and E.P. 004, Rico, doing the same with a rocket launcher.

"Paladin Team, be advised, you're still clear, over."

E.P. 005, Spike, sounded off over the radio, as the rest of Sigma-Alpha 2 kept moving.

"Takes us back, doesn't it?" Honch whispered. "Remember those missions in Shamar?"

Rico snorted. "Had to save your arse from the fire, if I recall."

"Yeah, and I got your arse out from the frying pan. So we're even."

"Hardly. You never paid me that twenty."

"Sure. I'll ask ma for some pocket money when we get back."

"I-"

"Honch, Rico, cool it," Dutch murmured. He led the team to the back of a wall – the only one remaining of a burnt down house – before peering out into the adjacent street. "Got enough fire here already."

"Not much fire, actually," Vincent murmured.

Dutch shot E.P. 002 a look that said "zip it," and thankfully, the commando obliged. He'd seen sloppiness cost more than one man his life in his years in the field, and sloppiness was now infecting his team.

Maybe it was due to the mission's unofficial nature, maybe it was due to how after the ARK Incident, they'd been sidelined. Kept off the field bar the Black Arms invasion. Or, worst of all, it was just apathy. They were standing in the ruins of a civilization that wasn't their own, and were so far content in the knowledge that Doctor Eggman hadn't turned his attention to the human world.

The human world…Dutch looked at Vincent. "Scan us."

E.P. 002 nodded, peaked round the wall, and activated his E.M. scanner, slowly moving it from left to right.

The human world. The phrase rolled over and over in his head. The phrase hadn't come from him, but rather, from the president in his inauguration speech. The idea that you could separate human territories from those of non-humans. The same line of argument that had been used to prevent the United Federation from intervening against the Eggman Empire, or even supporting the Resistance. Physically, astro-geographically, Earth was Earth, and Earth was one world, but as had been pointed out numerous times, Eggman had never bothered the United Federation until Station Square, nor were most denizens of "the human world" aware of his existence until his declaration of conquest in the ARK Incident, when he'd broadcast his intentions to every TV on the world, and blown up half the moon in a demonstration of his power. Foreshadowing a similar level of destruction when, using a weapon of his own design, he'd split the Earth into separate pieces, and unleashed hordes of monsters all over the world. Monsters that had only come out at night, yes, but monsters all the same. Monsters that GUN and numerous other forces had done their best to contain before Sonic had once again saved the planet.

But with Eggman's attention these days on interstellar amusement parks and the Lost Hex, there were those who'd pointed out that there was a time before Station Square when Eggman hadn't bothered them. That such a time had come again. Eggman wasn't bothering them, so why bother him, even as so many non-humans were in a spot of bother themselves?

One planet, two worlds, as went the thinking of more people each day. And while thinking didn't dictate reality, it certainly affected how one beheld it.

"Scanner says we're in the clear," Vincent said, looking at Dutch.

He wondered for a moment how Vincent beheld reality. How any member of the team did. If for them, they were in the same world that they'd been at in Omega Site.

"Not a robot in sight." Vincent smirked. "Least not an operating one."

"And the animals?"

"Bio-signs are active. They're in here somewhere; likely the town hall."

"Right…" Dutch activated his ear radio, putting thoughts of reality and human worlds aside, and trying to concentrate on the here and now. "E.P. Five, status?"

"Clear skies, clear path."

"Acknowledged." Dutch gripped his rifle. "Move out."

He led the commandos in a sprint out onto the adjacent street, moving fast, and keeping low. Just like they'd done in Shamar, just like they'd done in Mazuri, just like in more places than he could count. Sometimes, as a rescuer. Other times, as an assassin. And in others…

He glanced either side, at the devastation around him. He found himself reminded of Westpolis. Lasers raining down from the sky, black creatures emerging from a hole in that sky, bullets and plasma dancing back and forth in the streets below…

He shook his head and kept moving. He'd been in Westopolis in his dreams not so long ago. He didn't need to go back there again.

But even so, even after the destruction of the Black Comet, history seemed to be repeating itself. An invading force destroying everything in its path. Buildings reduced to rubble. Cars left to rust. And despite it all, not a body to be found. The Black Arms had killed every living thing they'd come across, but Eggman didn't operate like that. Living beings needed to be alive, if they wanted to act as organic batteries for his badniks, providing power as well as an AI source. There were reports that if the outer shell of such constructs were destroyed, the animal inside would emerge none the worse for wear. So in one sense, Eggman was a more merciful master than the aliens that he'd once fought against. But in another…

Dutch grit his teeth and kept moving, running between the ruined buildings that had become akin to gravestones. Better to deal with the evil in front of him, he reasoned, rather than the evil behind. And better to keep moving so he could get out of this den of evil as quickly as possible.

"Blimey, they loved their hedgehog, didn't he?" Honch asked.

He didn't order the team to halt, as they approached Crescent View's town hall. They just followed his lead, coming to stop in the shadow of giants. Not that the shadows were long, given how early in the morning it was, and it wasn't as if Sonic or any other similar creature was that tall either. Still, with the stone carving of Sonic, a robotic duplicate, and a small sphere under both as they did battle…

Well, even with his rank and file, Dutch knew humility. In no small part to the hedgehog in question.

"The heck is this anyway?" Rico asked, gesturing to the sphere. "Is it Earth? Continents don't seem to match."

"Nah, it's Little Planet." All eyes turned to Vincent as he walked towards the sphere. "Or Miracle Planet, depending on who you're asking."

"Who are you asking?" Honch murmured.

"That's Sonic, that's Metal Sonic, and that little ball is something they've fought over twice now. First time over the Time Stones, second time over the Death Egg Mark Two. Damn thing was used as a Dyson sphere to absorb the planet's energy, before Sonic and Tails put Eggman out of business. Whole thing collapsed after they battled the doctor in his fortress."

The team looked at him in silence.

"Seriously, am I the only one who does my research?"

Rico snorted. "Was this before or after we captured him?"

"After. When the team was broken up after the ARK Incident…well, a man has time to look at a computer when he's working on the UF mainframe." He smirked. "And play a videogame or two."

Dutch knew the feeling. He began walking around the sculpture, wondering why it was still standing. He figured that if Eggman wanted to break the morale of his new subjects, there was no better way than to tear down their icons. Certainly there was no shortage of conquests in world history where the invaders had torn down the edifices of their foes. You only had to look at the ruins all across Soumerca for that, or in more recent times, the numerous devastated islands left in the wake of the Battle Kukku Empire, and the monuments erected to Emperor Kukku XV amid the ruins, before finally being stopped at Coco Island.

So why had the doctor's forces spared a shrine dedicated to his most hated enemy?

"You know, I'm still pissed about the whole disbandment thing," Honch said, talking with Vincent. "I mean, who set us upon the blue boy? Who broke up the team afterwards?"

"That a rhetorical question?" Rico murmured.

Dutch, barely listening, kept his eyes on the statues. Maybe the reason it was still standing was down to the nature of Egman's armies – unfeeling automatons that didn't, or couldn't, understand the need for heroes. Not even the graffiti had been removed from the statue's base – a red five-pointed star. The symbol of the Resistance. Likely some poor sucker's last act of defiance before being mowed down, or worse, dragged away to be put inside a badnik. The Egg Pawns likely hadn't given it a second glance.

"Brass," Rico said. "Command Hugo Fricking Brass. He's the one who did it."

"Didn't say it was rhetorical…"

"Alright, that's enough. On me."

Honch smirked. "Whatever you say, sir." He glanced at the carving of Little Planet. "Always wanted to pass under a hedgehog's balls."

If this was a normal mission, he'd have disciplined Honch then and there.

But, as Vincent began scanning the town hall for life signs, as he clutched his rifle, slowly led the team to the building's entrance, he was once again reminded that this mission was far from normal.

Not that the mission Commander Brass had given them had been normal either…

When Paladin Team had been told they were being sent to Prison Island, Dutch had imagined landing on the island itself. Instead, as the pilot had said over the Grey Hawk's intercom, they were going to land on the UFS Durgan.

Even so, looking out one of the helicopter's portholes, Dutch managed to catch a glimpse of the most secure prison within the United Federation. An island off its south-eastern coast, with a fortress buried deep into the basalt of an extinct volcano. One surrounded by jungles filled with GUN robots, not to mention the native wildlife. Beyond that, the 4th Fleet of the United Federation Navy, encapsulating everything from frigates, to destroyers, to aircraft carriers like the one they were about to land on. Added to which were missile sites capable of striking targets a hemisphere away, and Prison Island wasn't just impossible to break out of. It was impossible to break into.

Truth was, it was more the latter that GUN was afraid of these days. There were only a handful of prisoners actually kept in the base – the worst of the worst, those who couldn't safely be kept in any prison on the mainland. But the prison itself had been decommissioned six decades ago, and the island had been transformed into a military base. A base that last night, had been broken into, necessitating the transfer of Sigma-Alpha 2 from Fort Thorndyke to the island, because someone had got GUN's nickers in a jimmy.

Or at least Commander Brass's.

The helicopter landed and in silent, single file, Dutch led his team onto the carrier's runway. He squinted as the afternoon sun filled his gaze, its glare broken only by a duo of Blue Falcon fighter jets lazily drifting through the air. Returning his gaze to the ground, he could see ships in berth all around him. Many called the area "Metal Harbour," and given the amount of military hardware on display, Dutch could see why.

"So this is Prison Island," Honch said. "Nice. Like a gun show."

"Like you're complaining about a gun show, Tex."

"Hey, come on Rico, you know you love to shoot things as much as I do." Honch said. He looked at Dutch, smirking. "Come on sir, don't hold out on us. What are we shooting at?"

"Colonel doesn't know," Spike murmured. He gave Dutch a look. "Do you?"

Dutch remained silent. So did Vincent, for that matter, his eyes not on the sky, but rather a passing column of Hunters. Their metal legs clanking with every passing step, the red glow in their visors moving from side to side. Ten years ago, he'd been in Fort Thorndyke, where those things were just starting to be rolled out en masse. Now they were everywhere, with teams like his the exception rather than the rule. And when GUN did use infantry, it was almost always with their robotic creations in tandem.

A decade ago, Penders had said that GUN's forces would be up to 50% robotic. If anything, that had been an underestimate. Not only that, but the mechs' old fission cores had been replaced with Chaos drives – clean, near limitless energy, all contained in tiny, easily replaceable capsules. Chaos might have destroyed Station Square, but the residue he'd left, and the advances in Chaos energy that had come from it…well, who said giant water demons were good for nothing?

Maybe the people who'd had died that day, but then, the dead couldn't speak.

"Paladin Team."

Putting thoughts of water demons aside, Dutch and the other commandoes stood to attention, as Commander Hugo Brass's voice cut through the air, drowning out even the sound of jet engines. That was the commander for you, Dutch reflected – big body, big mouth, big balls.

"Follow me."

Also never one for small talk, as he turned around and, alongside the two troopers beside him, led the team into the depths of the ship. His sheer size meaning that seamen had to squeeze up against the walls so that he could get through. Similarly, he had to lower his head to get into the ship's briefing room, before at last, standing tall over the commandoes. Stretching his neck, cracks echoing through the interior.

Brass Balls, some people called him. Standing before the commander now, Dutch wondered if they'd ever done so to his face.

Brass picked up a pile of folders and tossed one to each team member. "Light reading," he said.

"What, like mum used to do?" Honch chuckled. "She-"

"Want your mum to get a condolence letter, E.P. Three?" Brass frowned. "Well?"

Honch said nothing.

"Then shut it."

Honch quickly, and silently, obliged. But as Dutch turned the first page of the mission folder, and saw the target on it…

"Sir?"

He had to speak up.

"Our target is Sonic?"

Brass didn't say anything. Instead, via a remote, he dimmed the lights, and a flatscreen descended from above. On cue, the five commandos took a seat, all of whom bar Spike had a look of concern on their face. And even in his eyes…

Well, if eyes were the window to the soul, Dutch reflected, then his sniper's soul wasn't doing too good.

"This was taken from Prison Island last night," Brass said.

Ten eyes watched the screen. Five souls became troubled. And Dutch's body squirmed, as he beheld the footage of Doctor Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik made his way through the interior of Prison Island. Utilizing a mech that lay waste to any GUN robot that got in his way, making Dutch glad for a moment that those mechs had been deployed at all. Because if Eggman had killed the amount of troopers as he had robots…

"I don't get it," Vincent whispered, leaning over to Dutch. "If Eggman attacked, why are we after Sonic?"

Dutch didn't say anything. But as if on cue, the footage cut to a different chamber. Within it was Eggman in his mech, coming up against a B-3x Hot Shot. And beside Eggman…

"Sonic?" Rico whispered.

Dutch stared through the gloom, peering at the hedgehog standing beside Doctor Eggman. It could have been Sonic…maybe…but…

"Holy shit," Honch exclaimed.

It became hard to see what went on exactly, because it was over in less than thirty seconds. The Hotshot fired. The hedgehog evaded its gunfire, moving at super-human speeds, before using super-human agility to curl into a ball, repeatedly batter the mech, before, at last, utilizing a spin attack to smash into the cockpit, sending the mech staggering backwards, before collapsing. The hedgehog, in turn, descending from the air with far more grace, landing in a pose, and looking directly at a security camera. Smirking.

An image that became frozen on the screen as the recording ended.

"The pilot," Vincent murmured. "Is he okay?"

"Alive," Brass murmured. "But unconscious, and in no position to tell us anything about what happened. But he isn't your problem. This, gentlemen…" He shone a laser pointer on the hedgehog. "This is your problem."

A silence lingered in the room.

"Sonic the Hedgehog," Brass said, "is now an Alpha-level target."

Dutch gawked. That was putting Sonic on the same threat level as Doctor Eggman. He stood up. "Sir, we…shouldn't we be going after Eggman?"

Brass glared at him, but nevertheless answered. "We're tracking Eggman right now," he said. "We have reason to believe he's operating from a secret base inside a pyramid in Misr. But we know exactly where Sonic is." Brass pressed a button on a remote, and on the flatscreen was displayed a map of Earth. In the southern hemisphere, a laser pointer shone a red on one small landmass.

"South Island," Brass declared. "That's where he's fled to."

Vincent frowned. "What, he helps Eggman, leaves Eggman, then goes back home to do…um…seriously, what does he do on his downtime?"

"Read the file, E.P. Two. If that knowledge can be used to your advantage, then use it."

"Sir, I-"

Brass interrupted Rico as he slammed his large, meaty hands on the desk before him. "No more questions. You have a mission, so you do it, or I get a team who can."

"But I do have a question, sir."

Dutch stared at Spike as he rose to his feet. So did the rest of the team. Even Brass seemed taken aback that a man who'd let out more bullets than words over his service, was letting the spotlight shine on him.

"How do we know that's Sonic?"

Brass stared at him.

"I mean, the hedgehog there is black, while Sonic is blue, and-"

"E.P. Five, sit down and shut up before I rip your tongue out."

Not that Dutch could blame him, but Spike did so.

"You saw the footage," Brass said. "Who else moves like that? Who else spins like that? Name one hedgehog on this planet who could do what you just saw."

"And the colour-change?" Vincent murmured.

"Sonic changed colour in Station Square," Brass said. "Who's to say he hasn't done it again?"

Who indeed, Dutch reflected? He'd seen footage from Station Square, as sparse and grainy as it was. A golden hedgehog battling a giant water demon, floating across the water not entirely unlike how the hedgehog had moved in the footage. Having studied the footage of the incident, and everything leading up to it, the differences in Sonic's appearance were clear – gold fur in place of blue. Red eyes in place of green. And a golden aura that followed his every move, not unlike it had of the hedgehog in the recording.

And like Brass had said, what other hedgehog did they know of that could do those things?

"But why Eggman?" Rico asked. "Weren't they enemies?"

Brass gave a wicked grin. "Catch him, bring him here, and we can find out." He pressed the remote, returning light to the room. "Two hours. That's how long you have before you're in the field." He gave a look over all of them. "Make the most of it."

Under normal circumstances, Dutch would have pointed out that two hours was hardly enough time to prepare for an op.

But then, in a world of mad scientists, water demons, and super-sonic hedgehogs, normal had gone out the window long ago.

Why the gloves, Dutch wondered?

Different species, yes. Different norms, yes. Was judging his norms through the lens of his own bad? Yes, or at least it was according to moral relativists.

But even so, why the gloves? Why was it that literally every furry who'd emerged from hiding within Crescent View Town Hall was wearing gloves?

And not just gloves, but mostly white gloves. And brightly coloured shoes. Mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, with more species than he could count, and they all had the same traits – big shoes, big gloves, and big, wide eyes, all one-hundred of them, staring at the four humans who'd entered the town hall as if they'd never seen GUN commandos before.

Which, Dutch supposed, they likely hadn't.

"Thought you said there was twenty-one," Vincent murmured.

Dutch remained silent.

"You planning on fitting fifty furries into a Grey Hawk?"

"Working on it, Vincent."

"Yeah? Well work quickly, cause that's a lot of fur."

Dutch did, as he continued to count the animals that were emerging – a number far greater than the twenty-one that had been detected earlier, and indeed, around the fifty that Vincent had counted. The young, the old, the in-between. The males and the females. The frogs and the falcons. The antelopes and the aardvarks. When they'd entered the town hall, he'd announced that they were a rescue team. Ever the diplomat, Rico had announced that they (the commandoes) knew that they (the critters) were here, and that hiding in the dark wasn't a good strategy against people with guns and itchy trigger fingers.

Vincent had looked at his tracker, and confirmed movement, which had led to Honch clutching his heavy machine gun like a child a teddy bear. And not like the bear that walked up to him, his head coming up to his waist. Blue shoes, white gloves (one of which held a walking stick), brown fur, and black eyes with a sea of white around them. A bear that tilted its head, as if examining bacteria in a dish, before speaking.

"You're human," it murmured.

Dutch didn't say anything. Considering that he was dressed in a green field suit, carrying a rifle with an underslung grenade launcher, standing at the head of a quartet of similarly-armed men, he'd have thought his species was the least relevant thing to the situation.

"Like Eggman."

Oh. He looked past the bear, and at the sea of faces beyond him. Ohh…

Some of the critters looked ready to pounce. Others, to flee. He could see some of the younger ones bury their faces in their mothers' chests, as if unable to look at the four giants among them. Some looked curious, but none looked relieved.

"Didn't think your kind came to these parts," the bear said. "But then, one of you lot is enough for us."

Dutch forced a smile. "We're not fond of Doctor Eggman, either. Ask anyone in the UF."

"I would, if I was the travelling sort. Course, being mayor, that doesn't give me much opportunity at the best of times." The bear looked around the town hall, his eyes pensive. "Or the worst…"

Dutch couldn't dispute the assessment. Broken wooden seats. Shattered windows. Holes in the roof – the same roof from which a piece of plaster fell, shattering upon the marble surface. The echo of its breaking sounding throughout the town hall, and in the ears of all within.

"We're here to help," Dutch murmured.

"We?" the bear asked. He tapped Dutch's chest with his stick. "What's your outfit?"

"And why should we trust hairless apes?" asked another animal.

"Because," Dutch said, his eyes meeting the snake that had slithered forward, "we're your best bet of getting out of here."

"But the Resistance," a joey whispered from his mother's pouch. "They're coming, right?"

Dutch wasn't sure what to say.

"Like Sonic? He's coming back, isn't he?" He looked up at his mother. "Right, mama?"

She had no answer, and briefly, their eyes met. Her blacks meeting Dutch's browns, however briefly. Long enough to remind him that he wasn't one of them. That he could save every critter in this hall, today, and guilt by species association would never fade.

But also long enough to remind him of the same look he'd seen in countless mothers' eyes, across countless war zones. The loss of all hope to those who looked hard enough.

"Of course Sonic isn't gone, my darling…"

And a display of hope for those who could be fooled.

"We're from GUN," Dutch said. "The Guardian Units of Nations. Not exactly operating on their behalf, but…"

"But?" the bear asked.

"But right now, we're the only group with a transport helicopter. So either you come for a ride with us, or you wait for the Resistance to show up." Dutch extended a hand down to the bear. "Your choice, Mister…?"

"Huggy," the critter said. "Huggy the Bear."

Rico snorted, while Honch murmured something about being precious.

"And as much as I'd like to wait for help, it hasn't done us any good so far. So yes, I accept your offer, big pink ape." He turned around to look at his villagers. "Unless there be any who would object?"

Dutch tried to gauge their feelings. Some of them, suspicious. Some of them, hopeful. But most seemed resigned to trading in a doomed situation for a situation that, hairless apes or not, had to be better than what Crescent View could provide, not to mention the Eggman Empire.

"It's settled then," said Huggy. "We-"

"We're not going."

All eyes, including Dutch's, turned to the creatures at the back. Six of them, ranging from a rhino, to a llama, to a frill-necked lizard, to what Dutch supposed was a cockroach, or at least, some kind of insect. Hard to tell, and the multiple arms that looked ready to punch him weren't helping. Furthermore, a number of them were carrying weapons of some kind. Brightly-coloured, small, cylindrical. He supposed they were weapons, but they weren't like any he'd ever seen before. They looked almost like toys, but with the cockroach wielding three of them alone…Dutch clutched his rifle a smidgen tighter.

"Wispons," Vincent murmured, clutching his pistol as well.

Dutch would have asked him what a wispon even was, but the cockroach spoke first. "Some nobodies show up from a group ain't none of us heard of, and they want us to just fly away with them?" The insect's feelers twitched, while gripping his "wispons" even tighter. "No dice, pal."

Vincent leant over to Dutch. "Could swear I flushed him down the toilet once."

"They're humans," the lizard said. "Like Eggman."

Rico stepped forward. "Got a problem with us, mate?"

The frill neck's frill neck became a lot more frilly, as it hissed, a tongue wagging in the air.

"No-one has to come with us," said Dutch. "I don't blame…I mean, I know what Eggman has done to you."

"Do you?" Huggy whispered. "Did you look around our town, mister? What's become of it?" His throat began to quiver. "The people he took? Our schools, our libraries, our museums…burnt to the ground?"

"I had a glance," Dutch murmured.

"A glance?!" A gorilla exclaimed. "How big of a glance, human? Did you see what the Egg Pawns did? The…" Its lip quivered, before whispering, "the people they took?"

"Believe it or not, Crescent View isn't the first ruined city I made my way through." He closed his eyes, trying, and failing, to banish the images of Westopolis from his mind. "And I know what it's like to see people…dragged away."

"And that's what you're here for?" the snake asked. "To drag us away?"

"I'm here to put you in a flying metal box, so that none of you have to spend your lives in walking metal eggs," Dutch snapped. "Seems like a good deal from where I'm standing."

A rustle went through the animals. Some began to nod. Others began whispering to each other. The ones at the back, however…they didn't look convinced.

"Tough crowd, eh boss?" Honch whispered.

"No tougher than normal."

"Please." Honch tapped his heavy machine gun, "We could give them marching orders right here, and no-one could stop us."

"We could. But we won't."

"Why?"

Dutch met Honch's eyes. "Because we're better than that."

Honch gave him a look. So did Huggy. Only unlike the hairless ape standing by him, Huggy looked a bit more enthused.

"You can really fly us out of here?"

Dutch nodded.

"Good. Then I'll gather my people."

Dutch put a hand to his radio, ready to signal Spike. But before a word passed his lips, the llama, still with his cronies at the back, spoke up.

"Why are you here, human? What makes you think you can protect us when Sonic couldn't?"

Dutch sighed, and met the creature in the eye. "Because of the same reason."

Every instinct yelled at him to keep his mouth shut. But as the ARK had demonstrated…

"You're looking at the man who captured Sonic the Hedgehog."

…dirty little secrets had a way of coming out eventually.