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Sonic the Hedgehog: Guardians

Chapter 7: To Die For

Knuckles had left him in a burst of super-human speed, running through the streets of Crescent View to join the fight. Not nearly as fast compared to Sonic, but that was like saying an A-10 Hyena was slow by virtue of it not being as fast as the Blue Falcon.

The echidna hadn't said anything between taking his hand and then running off. He'd given Dutch a look of understanding, but even if he'd objected to being left alone, he doubted the Resistance's leader would have spared a thought. He was one man, while dozens of civilians were in need of assistance elsewhere. Besides, there were more Resistance troopers coming down from the ship above. Birds, cats, dogs, rabbits…all of them wearing the same green and khaki uniform, all of them carrying a wispon, and all of them having a look that he could only describe as being haunted. A look that he'd seen in the eyes of more humans than he could count, but had never imagined to see in the eyes of the anthropomorphic animals that humanity shared Earth with.

They'd taken Huggy's wispon and slapped some handcuffs on the now barely-conscious bear, before putting him on one of the platforms that ascended to the ship. Not without giving him a kick or two – actions that Dutch hadn't lifted a finger to stop. If anything, a pair of kicks was getting off lightly. Spike, though…

Still cold, he'd told himself as he'd put a hand to the sniper's neck, his body still limp inside the Grey Hawk. Hoping beyond hope that he'd got it wrong the first time. Still cold…

He'd told the Resistance troopers to leave Spike's body where it was. He had to get back to his team. None of the critters had objected (if anything, they seemed more eager to join the fight than anything else), so half jogging, half limping, sweating as the sun fully emerged from the horizon, he'd headed back to Crescent View's town hall, the critters leaving him in the dust. Not hearing the sounds of battle, no matter how close he got. And finally coming into sight of the battlefield, he could see why.

Robot parts lay everywhere, strewn amongst the rubble. The Resistance had made short work of the Egg Pawns, and the bee at least was quite pleased with it, much to the annoyance of the green crocodile and purple chameleon it was buzzing around. He might have asked them what was going on, but the silver hedgehog floating in the air, levitating the Egg Pawn parts, and depositing them in a pile was getting his attention. Questions beginning with "how" and "what" were bubbling up in his mind.

Yet he kept walking. He'd seen more than enough hedgehogs over the course of his life, he didn't have the time to find out about another one. Not when his team were in front of him, sitting on the steps. Their faces ashen, their gazes fallow, as Resistance troopers escorted the creatures out of the town hall. Sparing the humans nary a glance, and receiving none in turn.

"Sir."

It was Rico who stood up. Towering above Honch, who was still seated besides Vincent, who was leaning against a piece of rubble. Still pale, and still wounded, but alive.

"Did you…" Rico trailed off. "Did Spike…?"

Dutch said nothing, instead lowering his gaze. And given the look in his team's eyes, that was all the answer they needed.

"Fuck me," Honch muttered. "Spike…damn it, guy was always a cold fish, but to go out like that…"

"Not before pressing the panic button," Dutch murmured. "He saved our lives in the last moments of his."

"And that's a good trade?" Honch whispered.

Dutch remained silent.

"His life for what?" The heavy gunner got to his feet, his voice low, and his eyes narrow. "For what, sir? What did Spike die for?"

Dutch remained silent. What indeed, he wondered, as he wiped his eyes. Not for glory. Not for the United Federation. Not even for time, as Commander Penders had once told him was the duty of a soldier. What, then, were the spoils of victory that Spike's death had brought?

"For them."

Six eyes turned to Vincent. At the man who nodded at the column of townsfolk being escorted by the Resistance troopers.

"Spike died for them."

Rico sniffed. "Think they know that?"

"They will."

Eight eyes turned to a new pair. At those of a red echidna walking up to them. Shorter than any of the commandos, but having a presence that none of them could match. The quiet determination behind his eyes, his deep voice, the white patch of fur on his chest that reminded Dutch of a number of warrior symbols across various cultures…Maybe that was why he was the leader of the Resistance, Dutch thought.

"Anyone, of any species, who gave his life in the fight against the Eggman Empire is going to be remembered."

Or maybe, the colonel reflected, that was why.

Rico snorted. "That's if you win the war."

"Oh, we'll win," the echidna said, slamming his fists together. "Trust me."

Dutch wished he could. But glancing at the column of creatures, at the troopers escorting them, at the small shuttles coming down from the battleship above to pick them up…maybe this was a victory. But it was only a victory after Crescent View had been lost to the Eggman Empire. Not to mention the majority of the planet.

Or the non-human parts at least.

"Gotta say I'm glad to see you boys," Knuckles said. "I knew the UF was helping us, but I never saw boots on the ground until now."

"Wait," Vincent murmured. "The UF is helping you?"

"Course it is." The echidna smirked, gesturing at the ship above. "How do you think we know your panic frequency? Where do you think we got that baby?"

Dutch frowned. "That isn't a GUN ship though."

"Never said it was. Custom designed for the Resistance and animals my size. Course, Vector has to duck every now and then but-"

"But the UF isn't helping you," Dutch murmured. "GUN isn't helping you."

Knuckles raised an eyebrow.

"Or if they are…" Dutch said slowly, looking back at his team, "that's news to me."

It was for his team's sake, as much as the echidna's. A way of reassuring them that what he spoke, was the truth, as much as he knew it to be. They all knew what it was like to be double-crossed by GUN, but if their own commander was doing so…

"Maybe you can ask your employers," Knuckles said.

Dutch frowned. "Need to get back first."

"No. I mean, you can ask them now." The echidna nodded to the sky. Following his gaze, Dutch saw it. A Grey Hawk. Coming down to land in the plaza.

"Panic button," Vincent whispered. "They must have heard it as well."

Dutch wished he felt better about that. Spike had lost his life, but before doing so, had given the people of Crescent View their deliverance. But as for Sigma-Alpha 2…

"You look frightened," Knuckles said. "Isn't that the cavalry?"

"Yeah, to take us to the bloody stockade," Honch murmured.

Knuckles gave them a look. "Then if you're not here on orders…why are you here?"

Dutch would have laughed, if not for the pain in his chest. Why indeed, he wondered, as the feeling wormed its way through his body? A dagger, tearing muscle with every motion. Why was he and his team here when the United Federation was already supplying the Resistance? Why had he led his team into the snake pit, for one of their own to die? Why, he wondered, as the helicopter touched down and its door opened, were GUN troopers coming out with their weapons drawn?

"Colonel Warner?"

Why was Lieutenant Oxford walking out? Why was any of this happening?

He didn't know. He couldn't answer. With a hand to his chest, he collapsed onto the ground, leaning back against a piece of rubble like the rest of his team. Through blurred vision, he could see the lieutenant gesture to a medic, who ran over towards him.

"Touch me, and you're dead."

Who thankfully, for the medic's sake, didn't start applying any aid, but instead stood aside as Oxford walked over to him. Wearing a full-black combat uniform, no different from the troopers around her. Taking off her helmet and giving him a look. One that was half pity, half admiration…

"It's good to see you, sir."

And all lies. Even if, meeting her gaze, Dutch suspected that her words by themselves weren't.

"We heard your panic signal," she whispered.

Rico grunted. "Bit late to the party, ain't ya?"

Oxford remained silent, looking around the group. "Where's Captain Ishuka?"

Vincent, very slowly, murmured, "you see a downed Grey Hawk further in the city? Follow that, and you'll find your man." He looked up at Oxford, a shadow over his eyes. "He's already in a metal coffin for you."

Oxford bit her lip, before she turned to two of the troopers, whispering something to them. What, Dutch couldn't make out. But as they went into the Grey Hawk, and came out with a body bag…he didn't need to.

"You mind telling us why that (Rico pointed to the flying Resistance ship) is in the hands of them" (he pointed at Knuckles)? "Not dissing you man, totally digging the dreads, but-"

"I don't know anything," Oxford interrupted. "All I know is…" She looked around awkwardly. At the team, at the echidna, at anything and everything before Dutch. "All I know is that my orders are to arrest you."

The team stared at her.

"Like, really arrest you."

The team stared at her.

"And I-"

She let out a yelp, as there was the sound of a pile of metal being dumped on another pile of metal, courtesy of the telekinetic powers of a hovering hedgehog.

"Yeah, about arresting us," Honch murmured, tapping his pistol with one hand, while gesturing to the scrap metal with the other. "Don't know if you noticed, but that's what's left of the last group who tried to take us and-"

He stopped short, as the troopers raised their rifles. Vincent joined him in silence. Rico, on the other hand, said something that made Oxford's cheeks turn as red as the echidna's fur.

"Colonel, please," Oxford said, looking at Dutch. "I'm just the messenger, okay?"

"Messenger," he murmured. He drew out his pistol, uncaring of how half a dozen rifles were trained on him. "Don't shoot the messenger…"

"Sir…"

"Took out a messenger today," he murmured. "Some bear who threw in his lot with the Eggman Empire."

"Actually, I took him out," Knuckles said.

"And now I get a messenger who helped me get out the prison door, who wants me put back in it." He looked at Oxford. "Because that's the game, isn't it? Empty left hand, full right hand. President says one thing, GUN does another. Tower's in on this, you're in on this, and we're…what, lieutenant?"

She remained silent.

"How much of a messenger are you?"

She remained silent. Her grey eyes meeting his blues. Behind them, fear, yes, but also…something else. Something that prompted Dutch to hold the pistol up for all the troopers to see, before he emptied the magazine, and dropped both on the ground.

"For what it's worth, you'd make a great commander," Dutch murmured.

Oxford didn't say anything. She instead looked at the troopers and nodded, giving them the cue to walk forward. Four pairs of handcuffs in hand.

"You mind explaining this?" Knuckles asked.

Oxford looked down at the echidna. "You might want to get moving soon. Satellite scans indicate-"

"I spent most of my life in the clouds. Right now though, I'm interested in what's happening on the ground." The echidna put his hands together. "So if you're taking these guys away then-"

"Knuckles," Dutch said. "Let it go."

The echidna looked up at him. His eyes wide. "How can you let them do this to you?"

Dutch remained silent, as the handcuffs came around his wrists.

"They're playing you for fools, and you're letting them."

"Oh please, this is us on a good day," Rico said. "You don't know the first thing about being played for a fool."

"Actually, I do," Knuckles murmured.

Dutch glanced at him. A trooper came towards the colonel but he shot the smuck a glare. The trooper, getting the hint, stepped back. And Oxford, be it through charity, or a desire to keep things running smoothly, allowed Dutch to walk over to the echidna. To kneel down.

"Thank you," he said. "For everything."

"What, saving you?" Knuckles asked. A small smile came to his lips. "Please. I'm used to being a hero."

"No. For avenging my friend."

The smile faded, and the echidna glanced aside. "I'm used to that too…"

Dutch followed his gaze…and saw the broken head of Sonic the Hedgehog staring back at him.

"But if you lot weren't here on orders…" Knuckles looked back at Dutch. "Why come here?"

Dutch looked at his team. At Oxford. At the Resistance troopers. At the hedgehog hovering in the sky, at the bickering trio beneath him, and finally, at the creatures heading into the shuttle. A roach. An antelope. A gorilla. At a kangaroo. And a small joey in her pouch, who turned to look at him, however briefly, before hiding back in his mother's pouch. Finding safety, as his mother rubbed his head. As she looked at Dutch, and said all she needed to through her eyes.

It was a look that Dutch had seen before. A look that was rarer than any other. A look that he'd seen only a few times, in his years of service, and a look that had become increasingly rare, as GUN had fielded machines instead of men. But if a picture was worth a thousand words, then all he needed were eight.

"Maybe it's because we're like you," Dutch Warner whispered, turning his gaze back to the echidna. "We're guardians."

Knuckles didn't say anything.

As Sigma-Alpha 2 "Paladin" Team was escorted into the Grey Hawk, no-one did.


He'd slept during the Grey Hawk ride, but this time, he hadn't dreamt.

Maybe he was too tired for it. Maybe it was because, after having come from a nightmare in the waking world, the Sandman didn't want to make life any harder for him. Either way, as the helicopter touched down in Hanger 21 – a familiar sight. One which, twelve hours ago, five commandoes boarded a helicopter on an illicit mission. Now, those same five commandos disembarked.

Well, four did. The fifth came out in a body bag.

No-one said anything as the body of Yuji Ishuka was carried out. Not any member of Sigma-Alpha 2, not Lieutenant Oxford, not any of the troopers she'd brought with her. In fact, despite being close to midday, the entire hanger seemed quiet. Mechs marched, techies worked, troopers stood on guard duty, and all seemed right in the world in the most secure fortress on planet Earth. Well, most secure short of what Eggman could conjure up.

And it was as if nothing had happened. Eggman was advancing, they'd poked him in the eye, and no-one in the hanger gave a damn.

"So what now?"

He didn't know which member of his team asked the question. Nor did he have an answer apart from-

"The brig, for starters."

…Lieutenant Oxford said.

"Yeah?" Rico took a step towards the lieutenant. "And will you be joining us?"

She remained silent.

"Or does the lieutenant get her own eight by eight cell, alone from the-"

"Rico, enough. You're not helping."

Rico frowned. Honch scoffed. Vincent, putting a hand to where the Egg Pawn's laser had passed through him, remained silent. If anything, getting him in a place where he could lie down would be the best for him. Long as he had some medical attention on hand.

"To answer your question, I won't be joining you," Oxford said. "Instead, I'll be taking the colonel to Commander Tower."

"Right. So the colonel can wine and dine with the commander, while we cool our joints." Rico looked at Dutch. "Anything you want to tell us, sir?"

Dutch remained silent. Rico's right hand had curled into a fist, and he looked intent on using it.

"Didn't think so."

"Rico…"

He reached out, but Rico had already started to walk off, along with Honch and Spike. The former, who gave him a withering look, and the latter, who didn't meet his eyes at all. Half of the troopers escorted them, but given the differences in size, uniform, and until recently, armament, Dutch was left to wonder who was escorting who. And whether he'd be welcome in the cell at all.

"Sir…"

"I lost a man today, lieutenant." He looked at Oxford. "Am I going to lose the rest of them?"

She remained silent.

"Well?"

"That's not for me to say, Sir."

"Then what are you meant to say?" He took a step towards her, and Oxford nearly took a step back. "What are you here for?"

She remained silent.

"I asked you what your game was, lieutenant, before we left. Am I going to get an answer?"

The other half of the troopers looked at Dutch, some of them clutching their rifles tighter than they had before. One of them began to raise it, but Oxford, in turn, raised her hand.

Dutch held out his own, ready to be cuffed. The lieutenant shook her head.

"How magnanimous of you."

Oxford nodded to the hanger's exit. "You know the way," she murmured.

Dutch began to walk.

"Oh, and for what it's worth…I hope you only lose one man today."

Dutch looked at the lieutenant as she began to walk beside him. Half a day ago, he'd looked at her and been reminded of a mouse. Now…well, the word "rat" was coming to mind, and he wasn't intent on dismissing it.

"Yuji Ishuka was a good man."

"And you know that, how?"

"I've checked your records."

"Right." Dutch quickened his pace. "Then you'll know that this isn't the first time I've been marched down this road."

Oxford said something, but he wasn't listening.

His mind was elsewhere.

In memory.


Without a doubt, the past 24 hours had been the craziest in Colonel Dutch Warner's life. So crazy that it was frankly a miracle that he, and the 6 billion other souls who shared this planet, were still alive.

Over the course of his career, he'd done crazy things, and seen crazy things, and said crazy things, often in the process of describing the crazy things he'd done and seen, but now, back on the UFS Durgan, he was left to reflect that the crazy things of the last 24 hours had included, but not been limited to:

1: Half the moon being destroyed by a recently activated space colony.

2: The Earth's tides going haywire in light of said half being destroyed.

3: Debris raining down on the planet due to, again, half of the moon being destroyed.

4: Global panic in light of the above three points, not the least of which was found in the United Federation.

5: More panic as Doctor Eggman announced his ultimatum – surrender within 24 hours, or suffer the same fate as the moon.

6: The space colony not actually firing on Earth despite the deadline being reached, but instead hurtling towards the planet in what would be an extinction-level event.

7: By extension, the whole extinction thing had been planned by Doctor Gerald Robotnik, enacting a plan of revenge fifty years in the making. A way of avenging his grand-daughter by ensuring his entire species suffered the same fate.

8: Two hedgehogs, including the one Paladin Team had captured less than 72 hours ago, teaming up to send that space colony back into a stable orbit.

Addendum: The space colony had briefly had a giant red lizard attached to it, but that was so-far unconfirmed.

But in a way, Dutch told himself, it didn't matter. He was alive. His team was alive. 6 billion people were alive. And they had Sonic the Hedgehog to thank for that – the same hedgehog who they'd captured, lost, and had then been recaptured in Central City by the CCPD and GUN forces, before being transferred to Prison Island. Before escaping, before being pursued, before saving them all. Again.

Frankly, that Paladin Team had been put on riot duty in Golden Bay had come as a small relief. There, they were just anonymous grunts keeping the little people in line. Putting out fires, literal and metaphorical. He'd read no shortage of fiction in his youth about the world coming together to defeat an external threat, but it seemed that the opposite held true. Faced with the end of the world, the worst traits of humanity would emerge rather than the best.

Yet by all accounts, with the world being saved, the violence had died down. Not just in the United Federation, but all across the planet. As it turned out, nearly dying in a ball of fire was a humbling experience. Or maybe, Dutch reflected, Gerald Robotnik had been wrong. Humanity was worth saving. Or at least, Sonic had thought so. Him, and that other hedgehog…

The one who'd been on Prison Island.

The one who Commander Brass had told him was Sonic.

The one who, intentionally or not, had framed Sonic, and got Paladin Team caught up in this whole mess.

The one who, saviour or not, was the reason that Paladin Team was back on the Durgan, in the same briefing room that Brass had brought them into mere days ago. Only then, while the commandoes had stood to attention, now, they were barely awake.

Honch was drooling on Rico's shoulder. Rico was too tired to care. Vincent was looking at his datapad, watching the newsfeeds, but his head kept lulling up and down. And Spike? Spike was as silent as ever. Even when he was asleep, he was still silent – ten years of being in the field with the man, and he'd never heard him snore.

"Paladin Team."

Yet Spike had an awareness that surpassed any of them. Commander Brass walked in, and Spike stood to attention immediately. Dutch, who'd been resting his head on his palm, started to get up-

"Don't bother, this'll be short."

but obliged, as Brass stood before them. His voice a little lower, his eyes a little darker. Being assigned to clean up the shit that had hit the fan for the last 24 hours, Dutch could sympathize…to an extent. Because Brass had sent them on one wild goose chase from this room, and whether the man outranked him or not, he was damned if he was going to let the commander send them on another.

"You've done good work. All of you." Brass began handing out documents to every member of the team, along with a pen. "You captured the target, and you handled the rioters admirably in Golden Bay."

Dutch winced – he wasn't sure if firing teargas into crowds of terrified people was admirable, but he'd seen regimes do worse, and in less extreme circumstances than the threat of global annihilation.

"Aren't you leaving out where we lost the target?" Honch murmured.

"Yeah," Rico murmured, taking the document in one hand while wiping off the drool on his shoulder with the other. "And aren't you leaving out that the target was bogus?"

Brass said nothing as he handed the last document to Spike. Even so, skimming through it, like the rest of the team, he said something that was on every commando's mind.

"This is bullshit."

Brass said nothing. No-one did. All eyes were on the same page as Dutch – the one that required their signatures, swearing to never speak on the events of the last 72 hours. And, more importantly, the part which stated that Sigma-Alpha 2 "Paladin" Team would be disbanded.

There wasn't any part to sign there. That was a decision that they didn't get to have a voice in.

"You listening to Spike, sir?" Vincent asked. He got to his feet. "Bull. Shit."

"You're used to confidentiality by now," Brass said.

Dutch got to his feet as well. "You're disbanding the team."

Brass said nothing.

"My team."

Rico and Honch gave him a look.

"Our, team," Dutch said, correcting himself. "A team that's worked well for ten years, remained in service even while GUN's mechanized, managed to capture the fastest thing alive, bogus target or not, and you're disbanding it.

Brass said nothing.

"Commander, you have to-"

"Have to?" Brass whispered. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, Colonel?"

Dutch fell silent.

"This is a confidentiality agreement, the same as any other you've agreed to sign on any other op you've run. Part of this confidentiality agreement is to disband the team."

"Why?" Honch asked.

"Because, Captain Darrow, you were involved in the capture of Sonic the Hedgehog, based on false information. The same hedgehog who's saved Station Square, and now, all of planet Earth. So for your sake, that information is going to be kept under wraps."

"For our sake?" Rico asked. "Or for yours?"

Brass said nothing.

"How much do you know?" Dutch whispered.

Brass said nothing.

"You bring us here to capture Sonic. You show us footage of a black hedgehog, and give us some excuse as to why it's Sonic under some colour change. Now, two hedgehogs have just saved the planet, and all of said planet has heard Doctor Gerald Robotnik go on about a Project Shadow, and I'm starting to think-"

"You're a soldier, Colonel. Thinking isn't part of your job." Brass took a step towards him. "Now sign the bloody paper, or so help me I'll…" He trailed off, taking a breath, rubbing his eyes.

"Or you'll what?" Dutch murmured.

Brass gave him a look.

"How deep does this go?" the colonel whispered. "Black hedgehogs surfacing on Prison Island…space colonies activating…mad doctors trying to destroy the world based on some shit GUN pulled fifty years ago…how deep are you in this?"

Brass glared at him. "You think I had a role in this shitstorm?"

"I dunno. Did you?"

Silence lingered in the room. A silence that not even the constant hum of the Durgan's engines could break. Dutch saw Brass reach for his pistol, but nevertheless, stood his ground. He knew the commander wouldn't use it. He could understand the comfort of a weapon, even in a world where weapons such as the Eclipse Cannon existed.

Talk softly, and carry a big gun, Dutch reflected, as he saw Brass loosen his grip. Or a small one.

"You want to know what I know?" Brass whispered, still rubbing his eyes. "Fine. What I know is that a United Federation space colony was used to blow up half the moon, and as of a few hours ago, nearly impacted Earth. What I know is that Gerald Robotnik, a convicted criminal, set this up in motion. A scientist that worked for us." He stopped rubbing his eyes, and glared at Dutch. "For us, do you understand? GUN. The United Federation. The entire world saw his declaration of genocide, and once the cheering and kissing stops, every head of state is going to want answers. And by answers, I mean rolling heads, discharged officers, and people like you to speak." He glanced at the paper Vincent was holding. "People who can't keep their mouths shut for the good of their country.

The Paladins remained silent.

"So what I also know," Brass said, as he began to pace around, "is that in two hours' time, the president is going to give a speech at the International Cooperative of Nations that's going to be nice, and pretty, and the biggest attempt at damage control this country has ever done. What I know is that every jackal in every military in every country is going to want to investigate what Shadow is, or was, and what relationship he has with GUN. What I know is that either I kill all of you right now, or I disband the team and put you in different postings in the military, because God damn it, we have tracks to cover, hands to kiss, and-"

"You."

Brass stared at Dutch.

"You," the colonel whispered. "Not we. We don't have to do anything."

"Excuse me?"

"We're just soldiers, aren't we? Not meant to think?"

Brass frowned, his right eye twitching. "You seem to be doing a fair bit of thinking right now, colonel. Maybe a bit too much of it."

Silence once again returned to the room, giving Dutch time to go over the document in full. They were still guaranteed to work for GUN. But what that meant exactly, was something that it didn't say. Between camp janitor and commando colonel, there was a lot in-between.

"GUN's not coming back from this, is it?" Vincent asked. He looked at Brass. "It's not just the space colony, is it? A GUN truck rampaging through Central City, Falcon fighter jets bombing Radical Highway in an attempt to stop Sonic, or the other hedgehog, or…" He rubbed his eyes. "Fuck me."

Brass smirked. "You'd be surprised what the public will forget. World's safe today. Doesn't mean it'll be safe tomorrow. And the world's always going to need men like us."

"Men like us?" Honch murmured. "Or you?"

Brass sighed, before whispering, "just sign the paper. That's an order."

Dutch stared at the paper. He looked at his team, all of whom were looking at him. Their silence spoke volumes. Their eyes spoke saga. For beneath those eyes were shadows, and within them was a cold fire. Mirroring Dutch's own.

"I said," Commander Brass, his voice low, "that's an order."

Vincent said, "give the order sir, we'll sign the paper."

"That's what I'm saying, you-"

"Not your order, sir." Vincent looked from Brass, to Dutch. "Yours."

Dutch looked at his team. He wanted nothing more than to rip the paper up, deck Brass, and then…well, do something. He couldn't think that far. But then, what would that accomplish? Because Hugo Brass was right about one thing, and that was that the world needed GUN. It needed men to do the things that ordinary people couldn't. It needed to be the best it could be. It needed…guardians. Their nation. All nations. Eggman had nearly destroyed the world. So had his grandfather. How many more men were there like Doctor Ivo Robotnik? How many times would the world have to be saved?

"We're with you, sir," Spike whispered. "All the way."

Dutch smiled. "Maybe not after this, Captain Ishuka."

Spike said nothing. A silence matched by all of his team.

Former, team, he reminded himself, as he signed the documents, feeling a weight in his heart with every stroke of the pen.

Their heads weren't rolling.

But he felt dead all the same.