My apologies for not updating for so long. The world has been treating my with ill-intentions and my passionate work has suffered at many ends. But the great news is, this chapter is my own editing, and I have two more in the wings to be edited and one chapter to be finished. Then, it is four chapters left to THE END! There will be another novel after this one, I plan on it being shorter, but also more action packed and a new underlying, but centered idea about Aleutian. I think the reason why this one has been long is because it's based more so on characters than the plot, but both are very intertwined as I hope this chapter will show. All the coming chapters coming have had visions of certain scenes coming through my head; with beginning's and ends to them. But like this book, it's finding what makes up the middle ground. This chapter does show my lack of attention either when I'm tired, or I'm struggling to move on, but still wanting to keep the same feeling. It's a very demanding struggle. My motivations for this hasn't diminished from Aleutian's story, but crafting it has weighed very heavily on me.
But, anyhow, Disclaimer: I own nothing of the characters from Sega, or Archie, and respect all rights of their creators.
Now everyone repeat after me if you've seen "Team America: World Police." "We've gotta have a montage!...MONTAGE!" This is kinda it!
Utensils and Water
By: Mauser
"And how are we this late-afternoon?"
What more could he ask for; the lift of her grey, furred face, her brightening eyes, her enriching smile that followed, Lemeans could've gazed at her for eternity if she'd held this pose, so relaxed and relieved of the tension she had from yesterday when the koala brought her back from Eggman's oil-fields. Absent was the wary, removed face of exhaustion and with it, the passion to give up her life just to be rid of her struggle. "I heard our strength had almost finally given up?" the Leopard eyed with a knowing smile. "Good thing for friends who watch over us, eh?" he surly winked at her, balancing himself tenderly over his cane while holding a ladle, posed to serve the young female mouse's meal, and hopefully her, and the rest of the prison's last meal of sunflower stew. The steaming sludge reminded him of the grey matter in a being's skull, quite possibly his own bubbling in this formidable heat. How he longed for just a single tree much less a full patch.
"I swear we have angels among our friends, Lemeans," the girl said quietly, perhaps ashamed of her ordeal. "But I feel better today...I really do."
The confidence in her voice called for his to drop to one of caution, but yet sly in nature. "I do hope so, my lady. I have a grand intuition that you are going to need it." He watched her visage melt with the pounding sun as Lemeans was sure her mind brought home the image he etched in her head. He leaned closer, like giving her a careful kiss on the nape, pouring the contents out of the ladle as well. "I need you to round up all the kids and their mothers when the time comes," he whispered, eyes coasting to either side for the enemy watching them.
"What time...when?" she replied, almost unsure of the entrustment he was giving her.
"It could be soon...but for now, at least keep good tabs on them. If our chance is good, they go first."
And like that: "I understand," came her reply. Then came her back towards him, less energized with a slump at her vertebrae under her tattered green t-shirt...but grounded in her set assignment.
A nudge at his elbow broke his spell from the distancing girl, making his head turn over to his left shoulder. His daunting eyes meet the much greyer, furred hare.
"Lemeans, David says the rear tower guard hasn't left his post."
Wandering his head around, Lemeans caught those vacant, soulless stares of four bots, some twenty feet away, they themselves huddled in their own little group hovering in the corner just behind him. Making a disgusted face was all he could manage as cover from their conniving conversation against them. Pray to Aurora they thought it was over the meal.
"And the rovers?" he gingerly murmured with his face turned around to address one of his few handlers of the under-growth in the camp.
"Keeping pace."
A slight nod along with a strained roll of his head, as if pouring out his frustration from his left ear. "More likely they will be summoned to round us up. If that the kids."
"Or keeping an eye on the sidelines...Mikhal says he and Christian can tangle with them, but they need a weapon."
"I know," Lemeans seemed to sigh. Like an itch that needed to be scratched, he felt his eyes searching out a particular youngster he hoped was still in the waiting line of starving Mobians that were burdening down on him, and doubling his hope that the kid wasn't creating too soon of any mischief. He stopped himself before he could betray his motives to the every watching bots. "It's diffiently today, ole boy."
A fidget of his head. "Mikhal and Christian are also are master-key to our back door. I just hope either one of them can aim–"
The wonders of Lemeans' trained mind broke him off to face the east. Servos, the sound of them in a unison march grabbed his attention before Leo's could get snagged by the dull electronic rhythm. Past the double wire fence line, Lemeans' face squinted at first but then melted into a frown touching at the horror he felt come with it when his eyes picked out a moving jumble of black ink across the shimmering X-ray heat void. A moment past when he realized he was holding his breath, forcing himself not to curse at the approaching image he was watching become more defined. At first he could see light in the middle of the marching column. A calm heartbeat later, he saw the rank and file of the Eggbots marching briskly in a two by two wedge column, maybe at least five rows deep.
Leo's touch at his arm brought Lemeans' now worried face around to the hare who tried to begin a sentence in a very worried tone. "I thought..."
The twin gates opening for the new arrivals broke him for the leopard. Lemeans always hated watching them move. Such precise precision. Not a fault to see in their pivot and turns as the column split itself, like coming to a fork-in-the-road and both files taking their own path to the direct north and south. It was like they were an army knowing they were being watched constantly by their superiors for any break in discipline, never letting a step become misused, achieving what no free-minded soldier could do. To be a machine.
Lemeans ranked their weapons as fast as his foreboding mind could manage before suspicion of his stare caught the suspicions of those he was watching. At least four with swords, three armed with a blaster cannon on their right arm, two carrying lances and shields, and the last bot that brock off from the rear and stopped rock solid at the gate possessing a thermal-plasma launcher over its shoulder–a large round tube that Mikhail wanted more than badly.
Conquering his silent stare when the gates were slowly closed by the four front Eggbots, he let his reason for his distaste for the bots bring his sharp, fearful eyes to Leo. "We thought." Gathering himself inward, he straightened his back and then his face, bringing forth a smile to a female, brown furred lynx in what was left of her sky-blue, now bleached, dress standing next in line. Her six year old son accompanied her, both of them holding out their makeshift metal plates for their, possible, last meal.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lemeans," she said very courteous, very brightly, before stealing her smile to her son. He too was a lynx, but his fur was bit on the yellow side. "C'mon, Corey, you need to say hi, to Mr. Lemeans."
But he didn't, and Lemeans knew where his attention was off to, possibly had followed his own during his moment guarded survey. The newly arrived bots had concentrated themselves in a line blocking the entrance and a good portion of the view of the road to the oil-fields. The kid's head was turned in that direction. And Lemeans realized so was his. Shaking himself, he poured the steaming porridge in the young boy's dish, the sudden, added weight shaking the young lynx back around and eyeing at his plate. Lifting his face, his hazel eyes met Lemeans'. "Ah, I'm sorry, sir. Th-thank you."
The mother smiled down at him. "There you go, Corey."
And yet Lemeans frowned once more. "Ma'dam," he offered in a very quiet, pressing tone, "keep him close. Understood?" At first she seemed puzzled, but then he saw her give a nod. "Do you know Bridget?"
"I do," she replied confidently, looking for the mouse that was in front of her and Corey, but finding that her eyes had drifting over her shoulder at the perfect row of Eggbots instead.
"Find her and help her. She'll give you the details of her assignment. Nothing complicated but all the important."
Again, her nod came. "I see...well," –she looked down at her son, grabbing his free arm and tugging it-- "shall we go and munch, Corey."
Lemeans held his faint smile when the mother lead Corey away and towards where the line began at the northern three huts. His voice narrowed to a course grit over his shoulder, "Leo, where's Christian and Mikhail?"
"Watching the rear of the line," Leo returned, bumping his head towards the west.
Lemeans cautiously drifted his head toward the east side of the camp and caught Mikey's droopy ears and laughing face. Why couldn't the leopard push the idea out of his mind that Christian wasn't laughing with the beagle? "Senior Instructor?" he asked next, flexing his voice to pull the panic back.
His answer was three Mobians back in line from where he stood sentry as the server. The green feathered hawk was holding his plate, like the schoolmaster he was, in the grips of his feathers, under his arm as if it were a bundle of books. Following the path of the hawk's gaze, Lemeans could see a young bobcat cub looking up at the hawk, then witnessing the quick dart of the hawk's eyes to the bots, then to him. "Henry is well aware." And the schoolmaster's open black short sleeve shirt was fitting to the core of the coming trails. Being that the pain he suffered as the principle, dean and the one and only teacher to a prison camp not favorable to his precious work, he was also the wiser of the residence in the Great Plains' Camp. Lemeans had no grand illusion that the hawk understood about the importance of their care package locked up in his school-hut. So much so that he used his borrowed flock to sing for their cover. Leo and David had pressured parents to gather around some to listen to their darlings sing, then to have them scurry off to something important so the bots didn't spawn an arousal of interest, or find something to entertain their A.I. chip by breaking up an uplifting serenade.
Thus far it had worked.
Lemeans, still keeping his eye and stern face to Henry, maneuvered his voice to a degree of sureness and fortitude that drove Leo's total attention to him.
"My friend, I must say it's a pleasant afternoon for a break."
The hare fished his right hand for Lemeans' left elbow, patting it that everything was understood. "Tired? I could accompany you back to your hut," he said out loud for any sensitive sensory device to hear, however working his voice to sound concern all the while.
"No, no need, Leo. Just fetch me my water and utensils. Henry should have them. I think I'll dine here, if that's okay."
His smile was gifted. His voice was trained. "Pardon me, sir," Leo said thoughtfully, then excusing himself from the long table. He purposely hunched his back as his stride took him to his next object, among others. As he approached Henry, he broadened his smile to the hawk before letting it gap and lower down to the boy now between them.
"Hello, Leo," Henry greeted as plain of a tone as the region.
"Hey," came the hare's fast return. "What's up with the kid?"
A snort from the hawk's belly held the answer. "Troublesome as can be. Caught him with his slingshot again shooting at tails." Henry's tone turned solid as steel in the suddenness of lightning. "Ms. Uula isn't laughing, Dexter."
The little bobcat cub bowed in obedience to the scolding, but Leo could see the phantom shrug of his shoulders. And that was just fantastic!
Swallowing the dryrot out of his throat, Leo glared passively at Henry. "Lemeans' says it's time for a break. Wants his utensils; says you might have them."
If the sun hadn't dried out what little humor Leo had for surplus, he would've laughed at Henry's stark widen of his eyes. "You're joking?"
Leo fought to shake his head vividly, instead, managing a slow sway, mimicking his best played out disbelief. Unfortunately, Henry's sharp retort and perplexed grimace wasn't life or death playacting. "You know him, growing tired with every passing sunset."
"So's our sick-in-bed folks too. Maybe he should visit them and take a tally."
But Henry already knew how many a few strong, and hopefully capable backs were needed to usher out the still fighting souls stuck in the middle, eastern hut, lying in their beds to be purged from the camp. A quick scan of the line brought up the recruits of that mockery of an army. There were a few early teenage mobians in the eleven still prospering kids that made up the camps imprisoned youth. Four actually, Henry knowing them well enough on how he had to calm them down before they created their own underground network, possibly disrupting Lemeans' in the processes. A young bear, thinned in body weight and fur, was the strongest out of the four, standing just four person's back from where he and Leo where generating their end-all conspiracy. Somewhere in the crowd was a very spirted minded female, nanny goat, her white fur mixed with tan patches arounder her face was all Henry could visualize of her. And like the rest of the camp, wearing what little she was brought in with: a short sleeve shirt, and a short denim skirt. His last two angels were a brother and sister pair, of the sister he could see impatiently viewing around the mobians in front of her. Both were wolves, both growing at their expected rates of a fourteen and fifteen year old but just about the height of the average, ground dwelling mobian species–all except Mikhail and Leo. And both wolf cubs were orphans. It was hard for Henry to leave them out of the coming fanfare of freedom, or final resting, but the five mobians he the middle-eastern hut, hut sixk it was affectionately named, had no way, or choice, of leaving with the rest.
In all this, twenty-two stood a good chance of ultimate freedom thanks to theLemeans' utensils awaiting action in his schoolhouse. But for that chance to be used wastefully lied with something else entirely out of either his, Lemeans' or Leo's control. The bots...and panic.
"Is everyone else informed?" the quizzical schoolmaster inched out in the air.
Leo gave a hard shrug, but it being a very nice conformed nod in the covert stance of things. "The water is yet to be fetched, I'm afraid. Plus the counting of what is left of the spices."
The little bobcat below them piped up. "I can get the water, big-ears," he volunteered, though his demanding voices was more on the lines of barking orders to give him the job.
"That won't be necessary, Dexter," replied Leo, mockingly at the least.
And Henry pushed in his voice dryly, "Yes! Besides, we have another job we would like you to undertake with your mischievous talent and skill of the slingshot."
Dexter's look was very typical of the lad who's terrible forms of entertainment were actually being asked to be performed for a cause! Bright-eyed; his face was on the verge of falling apart with glee. "When do I start, mister?"
"Of all days, he's manners show," Henry huffed to himself. "Leo will have the little details you need to educate you for the task."
"There won't be no math involved, right? You know I hate math," protested the kid, his salivating face disappearing.
Leo's reply was unexpected, of that in a correction. "Any math, Dexter. And yes, but you won't have to check you're work." He held his tongue until the bobcat's attention was retrieved. "Now can you be quiet and follow me," scowled Leo.
Dexter nodded, gulping to Henry's delight at Leo's muffled, growling tone. And to more of Henry's delight, Leo ushered the troublesome kid between the west and center row of huts. He was sure when Leo would stop back at the schoolhouse Dexter was going to throw a tirade. But once the door was opened and Lemeans' grand silverware shown, the little tyrant better straighten up and become the little devil he was to his own kind and put his energies to the bots.
And as for Henry's summoning energy, and feeling the time molting away, and that of his feathers in the punishing heat, he looked to fetch for Lemeans' water. He looked to count the Eggbots inside the fence line.
Solutions. That was what he was faced with. Not to find them, for they have already been found, but for Sir Charles Hedgehog, member of the Brain Trust, and profiting business owner of a hot dog stand–and his dear nephew possibly the best patron he has–Uncle Chuck was thrashing what some thought was a boundless head of knowledge into figuring out a new formula to understand how Eggman created the solution. To his right was his slide rule, disjointed from its original rectangled stagnant form, giving him a new course to take in his numerical endeavor. To his left, a pile of unused paper covering the main keyboard to Nicole, her, herself dominate it seemed if one couldn't discount her processors bellowing their noise around the Command Center. Scattered around the legs of his chair were the graves of his failed attempts; refuse of paper he let idly lay.
And for King Elias Acorn, he was creating his own formula of his solution on how he needed to repay Uncle Chuck, and also Rotor and even Tails on their slaving efforts to help keep his family living, prospering...presiding. In the hushed lights of the room, only those of Nicole's monitors giving off the green lettering and symbols, and a few lightbulbs themselves still on but weakly, Elias understood the solitude of the darkness then and there. It seemed to help bring on meaningful thoughts. Those of why he cared for his friends as friends and not as subjects. Why his wife and child felt like added weight over everything he saw as an obstacle that might jeopardize there safety and his well-being with them. Why sometimes he still wondered if he was really fit to wear the crown that rested on his head.
All this prompted a step forward to Sir Charles, seemingly stepping over his internal woes and forward to the very present problem. With another forced step he reflected his real reason why he was there; his friends were still missing. Sonic, Antoine, and Knuckles still hadn't reported in, Sally's ineptness to simmer the boiling breakdown of her optimism, Julie-Su's already agitation that has since been beyond the threshold to pull back, the Prowers themselves haven't reported in, and furthermore, not reporting their situation from a mission he asked them to undertake...Elias was here to see first hand how the efforts and the waiting were holding up. To give moral support.
There was a pause in his hand, though, just before he carelessly placed it on Charles' shoulder to arouse him for a quick reprieve of his mind. Where the acting King's conscience went was not of surprising Uncle Chuck; that notion was nothing but a figment inside a swirling atom of hydrogen:
"Aleutian...are you still missing from the world as well?"
His hand fell to Chuck. "Sir Charles–" The aged hedgehog exploded with a jolt up from his chair, landing back down on it while doing a fast turn of his head, and flailing his jittered arms before following all his movements up with his crusty, though wise reflecting voice:
"Yo!" His eyes darted to the figure behind him, his long, bushy grey moustache unsettled as he. As his heat regained its steady rhythm, Charles instantly noted Elias' royal robes...much less his mixed embarrassed and surprised face. "Oh, your Highness!" he startling said, sounding as if he was out of breath, "you scared the Mathagorine Theorem out of me."
Chuck's hands went for his ears, Elias noticing now that Charles was under a set of headphones purposely built to place the small foamed speakers inside the canals of his, or any other Mobian species that had pointed ears. "I'm sorry, Sir Charles. Wasn't my intension to scare you."
A smile from the hedgehog, hoping to bring one on for the young King. "I doubt you couldn't have, boy even if you knocked. Was listening to some old classical stuff you youngin's wouldn't appreciate." Charles brandished his left hand accusingly at his current work. "It's a very effective tool in this war."
Elias rewarded Charles with an understanding smile at last. "C'mon, Uncle Chuck, you know I do...and by choice."
Charles let out a titter. "Heh, maybe there's hope after all." And he and Elias had a small, shared laugh, Chuck broke it up though when he saw the slight seriousness in Elias' pose. "So," he said, beginning the insert of his probe, "why does an upstanding King want to visit here."
"I'm sure you know, Sir Charles," Elias answered with a light sigh. "Any word?"
Chuck twisted his head to Nicole, then back to Elias, his eyes bringing disappointment. "Nicole hasn't made a beep since the last intercepted transmission."
"And the code," Elias asked, a little more pressing.
The main door to Elias's left slide open. Female silhouettes were engulfed in the rush of the light into the Command Center. Slowly as their strides and shadows would allow, Elias watched his sister walked into the room, Julie-Su following her with Bunnie and Commander St. John in tow of the rigid echidna. Julie's and Bunnie's faces were all but combative. Sally however was holding the fort down with calmness in her visage and march.
"Sire," chorused Geoffrey in greeting.
"Commander," Elias nodded, then focused on his sister. "Sally. Welcome back, I guess."
The heiress stepped to her brother and embraced him, crossing her chin over his shoulder. "Elias, what brings you here?"
Elias gentle pushed back. "Oh, just me. Coming to observe the front lines." He then looked past her to Julie-Su. She possessed a smile, but Elias knew there was something underneath the mask that spelled utter terror to her heart. "Milady, how are we?" he cautiously asked, injecting his best cordialness of the Echidna society.
Julie though, didn't posses them. "Elias...you don't have to go that far with me. I'm just like everybody else. Trooper, soldier, anything but Milady will do just fine." Her smile then went benign. "And I'm holding up like Bunnie and Sally are."
St. John grunted like he was clearing his throat. He should've anticipated the shifted eyes to him, but no; he looked ashamed and surprised at the same time, holding his squeezed hand just below his mouth. "Wot?" he festered calmly in his best cogney accent.
Elias was fast for the quip, hoping for it to be an ice breaker. "Just stated opinion is all, right Commander?" he said very flatly.
"Right."
An honest nod from Geoff said it was perfectly secure to move on, and to do it now.
"Well then," Elias divertingly said with a voice bright as the late afternoon sun. "so what's this enclave for?"
"Gettin' ready to make a call," chimed in Bunnie, her voice flowing, but laden with her attributed agitation.
Elias looked to Geoffrey from confirmation of this was in the best interest. Sally however obstructed his view and dispel.
"It's been long enough, Elias. Julie-Su's ready to take the Chaotix and find and get our people back."
"As soon as I break up their game," Julie-Su groaned, her arms crossing.
Elias shook his head effortless in a subtle smile.
Nicole beeped over the slight raise in voices, only Uncle Chuck turning to the console. "Message, Princess!"
Sally drifted her somewhat scorning gaze at Elias to the screen, feeling Nicole's small interruption was a question. "Not yet, Nicole...we need to make up a game–"
The computer's lynx face flashed across the screen, her visage showing a urgency. "No, Sally, message incoming from Sonic!"
Geoffey's voice was knee-jerk and brutal over everyone else's. "Put him on!"
Pink, yellow, and brown fur moved to the console. Chuck crashed back into his chair, sliding his headphones on, then pushing all the unmarked papers to the floor before his fingers had an area to glide over the keyboard. His punching of the keys was frantic but very accurate. Before anyone could breath out their first pant of excitement, Sonic's smirking face was plaster in the large overhead screen.
And to Sally's surprise, there was something serious behind his smile.
"Sonic, where are you?" she fired right off, but more so out of concern.
"Easy Sal, we're okay. Just voluntarily locked up." A titter from him jumped from the screen.
Geoffrey was already on the counter. "Now that's a bloomin' start. Is there a rap-around sport coat involved?"
"Geoff!" came Sally's curt snap in his direction.
For Julie, it was a pleasing sight to see him cower back. "Jerk!"
"Hey, smelly pants," sniped Sonic, "This call is collect and I'm paying the bill."
Her face lite up in a scowl; this was about as much Julie was going to take of Sonic having a verbal brawl over the com-link. "Sally, tell him to get someone responsible on."
It was a enough said. "Hey Sonic, is Knuckles there?" Sally asked deadpan, though Julie-Su see she was trying to hold something back in her voice.
All ears in the control room could hear the shuffling of feet, and jabbering of insulting voices through the speaker. The camera was shifting as the screen seemed to tossed around like a ball in a playground. Julie smiled cunningly when she heard Knuckles' light baritone voice:
"Give me that, blue!"
The screen steadied like an aircraft suddenly leveling off in flight with Knuckles' stern and fortitude face as the horizon. "Yea, go Sally."
Bunnie answered for her. "M'ah Antoine?" she almost cried out.
A very faint, "Oui!" sparked the air.
Several sighs of relief splintered inside the dim room. Chests even seemed to relax from the pressure of the worried.
"Okay, what's going on? Why did Sonic say–"
Knuckles' voice came like an attack at a spelling bee. "It's a prison camp to house Eggman's forced laborers at a docking and fueling facility for his Eggfleet!"
Sonic's bland voice came with an addition. "Only part of it."
"We'll get the technicals later," Sally interjected. "What about the prison."
Knuckles' tone was very gritted, very tight. Julie-Su watching his face mold into a demanding texture. "Not much longer to live. Sonic snuck us in here to break them out from within. Supposedly five O'clock our time, but we need the transports here and pronto."
Elias turned to his sister. "How fast can you be there," he said just as fast as Knuckles was elaborating.
"The Mark Two–give it five."
"We need something bigger. Our mobian in the camp is planning on breaking the whole place out. Says there are very sick people amongst them. Wants to drop the healthy ones off somewhere and we get the sick ones."
"How many, Knux?" asked Julie-Su almost in his same tone.
"Twenty–twenty five, give or take, Su."
Geoffrey was ready for his assessment from that. "Expect the Turbo-Lifter then. Its prepped now, so that cuts a huge lot of time off."
"Give me an E.T.A!" Knuckles practically barked.
"Half hour, maybe the full hour," Sally launched back, but for all intensive purposes, disarming.
It was met with Knuckles' face turning away from the camera. "Ha! Hear that, Sonic–thirty minuets...not two-stupid-hours."
"Hey boys, remember...collect!" shimmered Bunnie's crossed voice.
Yet, with all the voices lashing at the air, Uncle Chuck was still listening in the seclusion of his earphones, practicing great restraint either not to laugh or handle the conversation all together. His purpose for the time being was to observe that their communication signal wasn't being intercepted by loathing ears. The monitor in front of him was tuned to such readings from satellite feeds, that if or when an additional, alien signal appeared on the screen in a color other than green, or if a codex was added to Nicole's encrypted signal, his hand was hover just over the kill switch. A very shrewd and ruthless kill switch to one very essential–
"Charles..." came Nicole's sudden voice over the muffled frantic ones behind him. But yet her sheer calm and slowness sent a riddle of shivers down his spine. "...Charles, I'm picking up a weak broadcast. The voice sounds very distressed. I'm patching it through to you now–doing my best to record it and boost the receiving spectrum."
It was while scanning her eyes to find Bunnie's that Sally witnessed Chuck's hands slowly trace up to his ears, pushing the speakers further into his canal. From her standpoint she concluded that she and everyone else were making to much of an upheaval. Neglecting to continue on to judge her best-freinds reaction, Sally's attention went back to the screen where Knuckles was still in the forefront. "Enemy force?" Why didn't anyone yet ask this?
"Fifteen or more from the last head count from the camp. Said their were getting lax in their programming."
"Bollocks!" sniped St. John, inching closer to the screen with a unmoved face. "Eggman doesn't take chances, bloody robots don't get complacent. Bottom line!"
Apparently Knuckles could see the skunk with the light-green beret on his small screen. His face was filled with unpleasantness. Frankly very peeved. "Hey, want a tour! You're there–I'm here..."
"We're here, dude!" drifted in Sonic's voice from the side. There were always some qualities for Nicole's speakers to be in stereo.
"Look, times running out for this com-link. When's the break out?" Julie-Su forced in, seeing from the corner of her that Elias was just on looking like a kid in his father's factory–if Max ever made one of his own.
"I don't know, babe. I don't even think we're suppose to be calling you right now. It's a..." Knuckles' attention turned away from the camera, his face darting off to the left of the screen. Then, his expression turned cold with panic. "Hold one...there's a knock at the door."
Not a soul was holding their breath. Julie-Su the one feeling her heart beat in her ears.
The Guardian's face shot back to the camera. "Gotta go, Knuckles out!"
And it was like Julie's soul was ripped out of her when Knuckles' image blackened out of existence. It as if that last single transmission was going to be his last goodbye. Her facial muscles were straining into a jagged frown, her hands, natural and cybernetic were clenched in bitter frustration of helplessness to save her soul-mate. Even her eyes were narrowed to almost slits of hostility against her emotions and the coming passionate spike to her yearning heart.
Thankfully it Sally's charged voice that separated her from the approaching despair and her true calling of the soldier inside of her:
"Okay!...they're alive and in battle spirits. It's all we need. Time to get bust people. Julie?" The former Dark Legionnaire, turned her ridged face to Sally. "Get the Chaotix; you're going as rapid deployment in the Mark Two."
"Roger that, Princess!" came the ripping reply. "Orders for when we get there?"
"Fast strike and cover. Find the stragglers and pluck them–"
Chuck wasn't hearing anything of the conversation, making his intrusion for him all the more distant. But all the more alarming.
"Princess," he shouted vividly over his back at her, "I'm picking up a distress broadcast." He felt all eyes plunge to him, but he never looking at them, but instead the paper littered floor, focusing on the lone earphone chirping at his senses. The air couldn't have been stiller for the gathered. "...it's..." His face slowly turned up to them in utter terror. He couldn't find himself to divulge what he was hearing.
Chuck's hand speared across the main keyboard console and snapped a switch up that brought the recording to the main speakers.
The voice was very frantic...almost surreal that the originated person was ever able to speak at all from what sounded like pain and being out of breath. Alarms were crashing around it as well. And yet, a very disturbing rushing sound of static penetrated the calamity overloading the speakers.
What came next that was very clear grabbed Julie-Su's heart and rammed it clear out her spine.
"THIS IS THE HAWKING...REPEAT–ehr–THIS IS THE HAWKING...WE'RE TAKING ON WATER FAST...WE'RE SINKING FROM THE STERN! WE NEED HELP! REPEAT THIS IS A MAYDAY...ALBION...MERCIA...ANYONE–WE NEED–" The voice seemed to have taken in a huge gulp of air, Julie wishing to take it in for herself. Echidnas were dying before her ears. Then the voice returned, subdued with terror. "OH AURORA! OH AURORA HAVEZZZzzzzzzzzzzz..."
How could she breath? How was anyone breathing? To hear someone drown while she was surrounded by the precious element to keep the poor echidna alive was the most unnerving, selfish thought that had ever plagued Julie-Su's mind. The struggled gulping from the voice before the radio emulated its static chatter would forever sting her mind with a scare like that of a burn, never healing, never confined to a small line, but a distorted blotch, and never covered with new grow fur...always visible as a form of thriving lividity.
She was completely divided on a course of action...and it was ripping her to shreds.
Chuck's voice was a very wanting, soothing reprieve, even though his explanation was all the more damaging. "That message had a twenty second lag from receiving it, to buffering it, to replaying. It wasn't live..."
"Then there's nothing we can do," concluded St. John. "We need to get our show on the air-streams."
"No!" came Julie-Su's throttling voice. "We need to go and check for any survivors. Call up one of the ships to go."
Geoffrey's head shake was about to deliver the biggest blow to his military pride. "Sorry, 'luv but we need the ships–"
She rushed faster than he could blink, latching onto the fur on his chest and almost slamming her muzzle against his. Her anger betrayed on her face scared the steadfast soldier out of him and claimed his senses to an utter halt.
"That's my people drowning in the ocean over there, you puke of a jerk! So let Aurora help you and me that I don't start breaking necks to get a transport." Her breathing never subsided, only increasing, blowing her expelled air at his face. "You might be first."
It was if he had no choice. The strength from her replaced arm over her natural was strong enough to show him she was very sincere on her promise, much less her threat. But all in all, he was speechless, not knowing what to say next to qual the female Echidna that he knew was bordering on two different convictions that meant everything to her core, her still thriving creed from the Dark Legion, and her love. Spies like Commander St. John relied on such beliefs to get people rallied up to be informants and listeners. Even saboteurs. But now those beliefs that can almost be viewed as faults were about to kill him. That, he was sure of from the harsh, demanding look Julie-Su was spearing into his soul. She'd kill an ally to save lives. Again, he had no choice.
For she had made her's.
"Sire?" he calmly called to Elias.
The King was still struck with surprise at Julie-Su's maneuver, but he gained himself back and asked his question. "You're about to leave us thin on numbers, Julie. We're spread out as it is."
Julie's face left Geoffey's to Elias, but trying her absolute best to hold back her emotions. "I wouldn't hear the end of it from Knuckles," she shook her head depressingly, "for that matter hearing about his failings to his own kind." But even in her own statement, she felt something more had contributed to that belief than just the thought of Knuckles.
When she looked further up, her eyes went to Sally's. The Princess's pose so sympathetic it chilled the fire in Julie's yearning, frustrated heart. "Half an hour to them?"
The Princess nodded very affirming. "Half an hour at the least. We can be there and Knuckles will be safe."
She didn't have to add that he could hold his own; to come back to them all, and especially to Julie. Sally was the foremost authority of knowing what Knuckles could pull through. She'd known this from the first war with Robotnick before Julie-Su came into his life, suffusing any relationship between Sally and him to their childhood dreams and letting the future take their course and hearts to someone else.
Like Sonic.
"We're losing daylight," said Sally with a colder tone. "St. John, how many Guard's can you spare?"
Geoffrey felt Julie-Su's hands release him, his balance almost becoming lost when her support faded. Gathering himself as quickly as time would permit, he shrugged some before replying, "It be five at best, but that's giving you enough room for the Turbo-Lifter on the inside."
"Fully armed?" asked Elias sternly.
A tilt of his head. "I could bend some rules to outfit a few with captured blasters. But that's up to you, sire."
"Done!" came Elias quick reply, now decree. Sally looked to him with surprise with it.
Julie-Su's voice was now coy, asking for something she wasn't sure was right to ask for. "Can Doctor Quack come along with us?"
"Ah think we're going to need him from what suga' Knux had said," suggested Bunnie in her southern-bell hospitality manner, though her voice was ready to go to war.
But Sally was the last voice on the manner to claim Doctor Quack. "The Mark Two can be back by the time the Lifter returns. That's unless there are any contingencies that spring up."
"Never the fact, your Highness," voiced Charles from the mix. "Quack has a staff that can take up the slack. Just get someone to make sure the hospital in Knothole is ready for what Sonic brings. It won't be in the castle itself, and for King Max, it's good for the Sire. I'm sure Doctor Quack will agree about not spreading new germs."
"Okay, agreed," resounded Sally's thrust tone. "Julie, you know what you're taking?"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
"Great! The Mark Two is standing by. Take Rotor with you for the reentry procedures and handling and whoever you need out of the Choatix." Her attention then was thrown to Geoffrey. "Commander, you got a pilot for the Turbo-Lifter?"
He snapped to a quick attention. "Aye, but Hershey won't be to thrilled."
"I gotta better idea, Sal!" said Julie-Su. "Ray is a great pilot for us, let them take Rotor."
"You sure?" Sally asked in surprise.
"They also have me...remember?" Julie seemed to eye. After all, technology was a former fling for her, and in a way, still was.
"Then it's settled!"
Bunnie's voice was the last yet to be heard, and it seemed to her it wasn't ever going to be heard. "Uhm, what about me, Sally-girl?"
Sally really didn't want to say it, but she had too.
"You're staying, girl."
The rabbit's eyes widen. "No! I can't just leave Antoine out there. Ah have ta' go!"But there was no arguing about it. Sally needed heavy hitters in and around Knothole just in case this was a well orchestra trap. Something General Prower was fearing. "If only he was here."
She shrugged it off, diverting her attention away from her best friend to Chuck. "Anything from Prower?"
Charles' tone was about as frustrated as Bunnie's or Julie-Su's. "Not a thing from the General."
"And of Shadow and Espio?" Julie asked next. They were on Geoffrey's tongue before the echidna spat their names out–actually, he was quite surprised she mentioned Shadow.
"Again, nothing. Nicole was been silent until now."
"Okay then, that's it," came Sally's rallying voice. "We know our jobs, we know our destinations. Charles, send the Mark Two the coordinates of the last broadcast the Hawking made, then download the Turbo the prison coordinates."
"Consider it done, your Highness!"
"Good..." And like so many times in the previous war, but in her new voice laying vacant because of her elevated status in the monarch...to stay on the sidelines because she was the heiress, Sally repeated the words almost everyone in the room were always wanting to hear to come from her.
"Freedom Fighters, move out!"
Things were indeed looking up for Snively. The hues in his eyes were very pronounced as they scanned the computer monitor directly in front of him conservatively while two adjacent monitors remained blank to either side, and the hugely, larger screen was dim with the map of Mobius splashed across it.
"Com-Bot pair online: 1652 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair given last sequences: 1725 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair flight program operational and powered: 1842 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair cloaking program operational and online: 1850 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair systems running normal; diagnostics show no overload of flight and cloaking running tangent: 1703 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair received instructions; data and encryption accepted: 1706 hours local...
"Com-Bot pair launched: 1742 hours local..."
But even with all this Snively knew there was going to be a short pause to reassess their systems once the Com-Bots landed. Possibly even a cool down after the long flight and being virtually a figment of his imagination. No radar, no eyes would see them. Not even the prized inferred. Snively's new assassin-bots were his own ghosts to make his dark wishes come true.
He checked the time on the large, main monitor above him. 1651 hours, his time. "Almost five! Nine more minutes before the Great Plains Camp is not my responsibility anymore." Snively rubbed his long nose with his thumb and index finger. Something he'd seen his uncle do over such a worthless operation in the midst of being done away with, but yet he saw himself imitate it to the exact after-rub with his full hand underneath his nostrils. Like brushing a moustache he didn't have. Yet he knew that if like the day before yesterday when he watched the reprisal punishment of the ten he had his uncle's Eggbots select from the prison population, he knew for a sympathetic fact he'd shut down the coming eradication of the camp.
And so with this knowledge of his own moralities ever tugging at the evil, sinister side of him, and one who was going to need in the coming days of his Uncle's approaching demise–"After the Acorn's and Sonic's!" –Snively began shutting down his machines. He could have started with the regular shut-down sequences first, but for his day's efforts...he needed to erase them. By chance he did have the encryption program on lone disk, one always handy to have around, however, everything else didn't needed to be traced, or mysteriously found. This chance went away when the icon for the Com-Bot program's termination popped up on his screen, asking if it was OK to delete. His finger never flinched in hesitation–he just slammed it on the black button that read ENTER. With this done, the green line of progress running length wise toward the right side of the screen, Snively ran the shutdown program for the main monitor over head, finding his eyes as he did watching the screen fade to black, staring at a spot over the southwestern edge of the badlands, wondering if that was where his bots were.
Then came to his own machine. He didn't even turn the monitor off. He didn't scroll down to the shutdown sequence. Nope, in his haste to get down to his uncle before the obese man screamed his name out for no particular reason, Snively just reached down with his index finger and pushed in the power-up button, turning himself in his swivel chair once the internal fan died to jut towards the door. And in this instant when his computer was processing the manual shut-down sequence, a tickle of a thought made him laugh. "Hmm, maybe I should dine with my uncle tonight? See him off before tomorrow morning's arrival. Hey, I could at least be able to remember him a good note and not a sour one." A smile tugged to the edges of his mouth. The short man was indeed having a beautiful party in his head with coming implications of his plan. His nasally voice inside his head was laughing the whole second.
And in that split second when the computer was shutting down, when his nerve impulses commanded his muscles in his legs to make him rise from his chair, a small message had started to transcribed itself on the small monitor at his back. In fact the message was so small it didn't even give a glow for it didn't have time to complete itself before the screen lost its electrical connection to Snively's computer. But if it's operator wouldn't have been so eager to leave, the small notation would've at least raised what little follicles of hair he had left on his balloon shaped head:
INTERCEPTED MESs
Julie-Su swore her legs were ordered replacements from the Dark Legion because she never thought they could propel her so fast through Central Knothole. Sally's rallying cry was like the shot to set her in motion. But her aligning strength in her legs, plus the absorbing burn in her thighs told her that her all but one of her limbs were fur, flesh, muscle and bone. Her cybernetic arm was it, pumping just as fast as her true arm in her dash towards her and Knuckles' temporary home. The current residence of the Choatix!
Crossing into the south portion of the city into the outlaying huts, she breezed by the spot Aleutian and Shadow had their little soiree of boiling egos, then ran between two round huts, darting to the right of one, kicked herself into overdrive past the spot Aleutian saved her butt and killing Blackjack just to do it, and with her dreads beating the nape of her neck and her restless shoulders, she spotted the entrance to her hut. She never let off the steam in her legs, her love and goals jolting more oxygen to feed her working muscles to the brink of aching.
The closed door almost didn't stand a chance if her left hand hadn't slowed her impact.
Strangling the knob as she twisted it, Julie-Su kicked the bottom of the door that flung it open. Her hand was still on the door knob when she saw the spooked faces of Vector, Mighty, Ray and Charmy strike away from the TV set.
"Lets go!" came her forced shout.
"Where!?" harped Vector, the controller rolling in his hand.
Julie willed herself from the door and marched quickly to the TV. She nearly pounded the game consol's construction to the center of the world when she hit the kill switch. When the desired sound of static ripped through the air from the TV, Julie was already speaking. "I'll tell you all on the way to the airbase. We're taking the Mark Two and she's burning fuel on the ramp." All she got was stunned faces in return.
"Is it Knuckles?" Mighty asked after a quick moment.
"It's worse, now c'mon! We gotta move if we've any chance for survivors!"
And those words were the call to arms. Vector shot up from his spot on the couch and did a total one-eighty around it to avoid trampling on Ray, who was setting between the couch and a coffee table that doubled well for pop-corn, suds, and a remote control holder.
Mighty flung himself up as well, launching towards the rear of the hut with Vector, and now Charmey before stopping dead in his tracks. "Yea, that's right. I don't need to grab anything," he reminded himself like a guilty confession. Instead, he turned around and went for the table at the foot of the couch and went to work stuffing as much soda and popcorn his mouth could hold.
Ray was almost laughing when Julie-Su's voice called him out. The soldier tone was very evident in her. "Ray, you're flying right seat with me!"
"What!?" shot back his child voice. "Why right when I can do it all the way?"
"Because I'm the one who's got to do the reentry into Mobius!"
Julie-Su watched hurtfully as Ray's sudden change in expression shifted to one feeling unimportant. She thought to change with the real work that was ahead of him, but she also realized she might not want to feed him with a surge of ego. "Just wait, Ray. I don't need you to be all hyped up yet."
Vector jogged back into the room, Charmey in tow adjusting his goggles Julie figured he had to go snag along with his loving wife, Saffron, clinging to his arm. Julie couldn't understand why Saffron always wore a dress or a gown of some kind pretty much every waking day. But from what she saw of Charmey, and ultimately knowing the Bee Prince's linage, his wife's pink, satin gown was a welcoming sendoff attire.
"Got your tunes?" Julie-Su asked Vector snidely as the crocodile past her towards the door.
"Can't leave Knothole without 'em, toots!"
She almost tripped him when he waltzed by her, but he was going to need the head start once they caught up to him. But as for her, Julie was asking herself if she was forgetting anything. The Mark Two had all the necessary components for their unplanned mission. So then what beckoned her to rush toward her and Knuckles' room. When she reached it, she wondered what had made her tug at the door knob to mack sure it was locked when she arrived to it? Her face drifted to the bottom of the door, taking her sigh with her gaze. "Okay, Knux! Your brother's monster is still locked up." With this inner affirmation, her reposed face returned to its expressionless glower of purpose and set agenda.
Hurriedly jaunting to the main door, she caught Mighty waiting for her outside with Charmey and Saffron kissing each other good bye. The armadillo looked embarrassed in the presents of the show of affection in front of Aurora and everybody.
Julie relieved him of this cheek shifting moment Mighty was putting himself through. Grabbing Charmey by his right arm, Julie pulled him away from his lovely wife. "C'mon, lover boy. She'll be here when you get back."
Saffron's protest was surprisingly light hearted as she watched the pink echidna taking her prince away with a rigid march and run. "Oh, Julie! What about me? Will I see him again?"
Julie didn't know if her voice had made back to Saffron but she had to reply. "He isn't doing anything too dangerous." Then before she turned her attention towards Charmey and Mighty, who was now trying to keep up them, she thought of something for Saffron could do to pass the foreboding time. "Hey, just tidy up the place from the pigs we live with, please!?"
She saw the wave from Saffron, but she saw the testy look Mighty was giving her. "Pigs?"
Julie didn't retort. Her mind was back on the mission. "Where's Ray?"
"Ahead of us. Told him to meet us there while Chamey and Saffron said their farewells."
The male bee gave Mighty a shrewd gaze. "Mighty," he growled with teeth clinching.
"Both of you can it," barked Julie, releasing Charmey when she felt him running under his own power. They were just about to launch themselves between the two huts she'd had rounded a few minutes before.
"So what's going on, Su?" asked Mighty, his breathing becoming labored.
"It's the Hawking," Julie announced, her own teeth gritting. She didn't have to look to know Mighty's face had possibly turned dire from the trivial.
She was right. "Okay, you got my attention."
Julie cleared her throat as all three cleared the two huts and sprinted on the small field. "Nicole picked up a distress signal as Knuckles was calling for help."
"So he's okay?" Mighty asked brightly.
"Yes and no, Mighty. He and Sonic are going to bust some Mobians out from one of Eggman's prison camps."
Mighty stole a glance to her with a weary smile. "I hope it goes better than what we tried back on Angel Island."
And Julie hoped so as well. There was no telling how many of her kind, plus countless others were imprisoned in Eggman's Egg-Grapes. The thought of them being sucked dry of their life, helpless in the defense of the pain, to power his machines and city hollowed out her nerves and left her cold.
"Don't dwell on them."
"The Hawking was sunk, Mighty."
Her trembled words on her pitched run struck the armadillo's heart before reason could infect it. "I take it we're going to check for survivors instead of helping Knux?"
A shallow nod under a solidified face. "Yeah."
Then slightly narrow tone from the Armidillo running hard beside her came as a huge surprise. "This isn't because the captain is a former compatriot is it?"
The bold question about put every muscle to a halt at Julie-Su's expense. But her discipline held as the opening that marked the entrance to Knothole's central loomed closer. "Our people were on that ship, Mighty," she paretically spat out. "Remember, Knuckles had told this Captain Stenson where Albion was. Told him to get the refugees's there?" She watched Mighty nod in the corner of eye. Glancing right, she saw Charmey was jumping up from the ground and flapping his wings to flight instead of running to keep up. "They may not have made it, Mighty," she continued, but her tone was shallower. "Any survivor is better for us, and better than nothing."
This time is was Charmey's high voice coming from her flanks. "And Knux?"
The shade of Knothole's canopy was a welcome reprieve from the pressing early-evening sun. Enough to mend Julie-Su's already weighing mind. "Rotor and Hershey are going after them."
Casting a look to either side of her, there was some comfort but hardly enough to quell her aghast feelings when she descried Mighty and Charmey's relieved faces.
"He can do it, Julie," Mighty said breathlessly, his eyes now straight ahead. "Knuckles can do it–so let's get us some survivor's, eh!"
"Yeah!" she growled energized. And yes she was right...Vector had slowed. She could see his green skin past an overly large trunk of downtown Knothole.
"Set, Luv?"
Hershey's chocolate eyes found Geoffrey's with a strained turn of her head over her right shoulder. Just from the way he asked her, a tone filled with apprehension that sparked a knowing worry between them, brought on her troubled stare to him. Asking him if he could go through with this; her going on mission on her own for once. But it wasn't like it was some sort of coup de grace to a final battle where everything was give and take all or parish. It was a simple prison camp break. Like the many she and her loving husband for four months and going strong have orchestrated, and sometimes planed on the fly–including their own that in the end united them through vowels while facing down blasters from the witnessing Shadow SWATbots.
So why did he tug at her large, green turtleneck jacket? Why did his eyes now stray from her's with a gleam of guilt toward her tail?
"Where're goggles, luv?" he asked, his eyes lifting back to hers, but with more of a professional aura behind them and not the worried husband.
She didn't answer at first, but when she did, she sounded to herself far away. "Left pocket, Geoff."
Turning her around like a tailor to a manikin on a store window, Geoffrey fished his right hand into her pocket, retrieving her clear, operator goggles that they made a habit to wear on their missions. He eyed them for her, looking for any smudge or speck that could make her construe a far off enemy while in fact she was chasing dirt. Pulling the elastic band, Geoff slide her uni-goggle over her ears and around her eyes.
Hershey reached up and took both his hands with hers and squeezed them. "Geoff, don't worry. It's just a run around the corner to get some misplaced people."
Looking past her for just a brief second, the commander watched one of his troopers climb the ramp into the tail of the Turbo-Lifter, taking note of the beaver's stride up the large box transport with a calm pace and an old, black blaster rifle slung over his shoulder, barrel down. "It may not be as simple as that, dear," he finally said in a warning tone. "Something's up, and this old rebel commander can smell a trap better than anyone."
"Is this why you're like this?" she asked coyly.
Before she could see him answer, Geoffrey turned her around at the shoulders again, making her face the Turbo-Lifter. "It's that I'm not going with you, luv." She heard him sigh at the end, feeling him, again, tugging at the her back. "Your blaster is set," he observed. "Are your spare energy-cells at the ready."
Hershey tugged at her belt where she carried her spare munitions for the blaster pistol mounted on her back, along with other gadgets. "All here, sweetie."
And what seemed like the last time he was going to do so, Geoffrey grabbed her right shoulder once more and spun her around to him, taking her by his hands...and kissing her straight on the lips.
"Commander!"
Sally's voice didn't budge Geoffrey from Hershey, still holding their farewell kiss until the Princess's footsteps drew both of their attentions to her. "Commander, Doc's on his way. I've got Amy brining him here."
Holding their pose for a while longer, both St. John's swivelled their heads to Sally. "And Julie-Su and the Choatix?" Geoffrey asked, holding onto Hershey's hands tightly.
"On their way," said Sally. "How's the Turbo-Lifter?"
"Rotor's getting her ready." But thus far, no whine from the twin turbine engines mounted on each large wing. With this thought Geoffrey turned his head to the Turbo-Lifter. Not satisfied–nor will he be until this is all over–he cast his loving eyes to Hershey's and said dryly, like he was a spy in an old black-and-white movie seeing a female spy off at the airport, "Well, this it, luv. I'll see 'ya when you land in one piece."
"Sure will, darling," Hershey purred like a whisper in the night before patting her husband on the lips and then scurrying away towards the ramp of the large, twin engine transport.
It wasn't until Sally watched Hershey almost at a run disappear up the ramp that she eased herself alongside Geoffrey. For a time past, Geoffrey was infatuated with her, deeming himself her consort while he was busy undermining the first Robotnick and chastising a certain blue hedgehog every chance he could get. It was amazing what two years could do; the Commander married to someone no one thought would add more to Geoffrey's life. And Sally alone while her heart didn't know what to do with Sonic, other than get him back.
A sigh from her broke her train of thought and eased a switch to another:
"Espio reported in about a few minutes ago."
A course sound of hydraulic motors followed with an electric groan filled the forest canopy that covered King Frederick Airbase. Then came a turbine fan's legendary whine.
Through all this Sally watched Geoffrey fold his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving the starting transport. "Where are they?" was all he asked.
"He said they're getting close–" "And I think it might involve killing Shadow," she didn't add to the now raging air of sound. "When he messaged us, he reported they were crossing into the Badlands."
Geoffrey's reply came as a shout, drifting his head closer to the Princess's; his mind roving that Rotor was charging up the last engine. "I imagine they've got half an hour to go!?"
"Plus the walk. Espio said it was getting dark from passing the time zones and Shadow was starting to cool down a bit!"
A jolting laugh from Geoffrey sparked Sally's head to roll around. "He's being too kind, that Chameleon! I'm surprised he hasn't thrown him off the boogie yet."
The out of breath but speeding by voice of Vector got both Princess and Commander to turn their heads inward to the space between them to the see the first Choatic to pass them, shouting, "Hey Geoff–Hey Sal!"
Then came Ray's yellow furred-self, waving with a childish grin all the time his body was pointed directly towards the Freedom Fighter Mark Two.
"Where've you all been?" decried Geoffrey, raising his voice more when the Turbo-Lifter's engines were run-up. Burnt kerosene spliced the fresh-air of the forest, while the harsh whine was drowning out almost everything within speaking range. Enough so that he didn't hear Julie-Su walk up beside him and Sally. Almost didn't hear when she began to shout:
"Where's the doc?"
Aside from being jostled with surprise and collapsing his arms down to his side, Geoffrey was about as equally afraid from seeing the scathing pink echidna in front of him now. How Knuckles could calm this estrogen filled female body with lots of attitude was beyond him. Hershey was sometimes trouble enough.
"Amy's getting him!" replied Sally in the Commander's aback stead. "Probably getting everything ready when you all return."
"Well, he could hurry it up!" shouted Julie-Su over the ranging engines. She watched what seemed hopelessly as St. John rolled his eyes, refolded his arms and glared towards the Turbo-Lifter.
"Give him time, Julie," Sally replied calmly in her pitched voice.
And for awhile it seemed to cool the echidna. In fact it was the Turbo-Lifter that had almost everyone's attention even while Charmey flew past them to the awaiting Freedom Fighter Mark II towards the very rear of the runway, where it was always on stand-by for an emergency scramble mission. The Lifter labored slowly to the left, its right engine whining louder than the left to push it through its taxing turn. Like a ballet dancer with many talents, Julie watched with a embolden, deadpan face as the loading ramp began to raise, closing off the inside of the winged transport, making the tail a flush like a closed mouth of a shark. Then came the jet-wash, making all three turn away as the hot, course smelling wind fluttered through their fur, knocking Julie-Su's dreads around in the onslaught, and flapping Sally's vest around her body.
Geoffrey however was holding onto his beret as he spoke into Julie's triangle ear past her dreads. "Better get the engine running and get going before Bunnie has a change of mind and becomes a stowaway."
Julie nodded her head from St. John's commanding, English voice. "Where is she?"
"With Elias...hopefully the sire is finding something to keep her entertained. Maybe might have Meg's hair dons while you all are gone."
A flash of King Elias' squirrel wife flashed through Julie's mind before a curt nod in agreement sent it away, and her towards the Mark Two. She could see Ray through the cockpit window as she hurriedly strode up to the ship's ramp. To her, the Mark Two always reminded her of her past calling with the Legion; aggressiveness in its design. The day Rotor took the thing out for a test flight almost scared her when the Freedom Fighter flew over Knothole, frightened that the Legion had switched sides and where rolling in the hurt. But no, it was their newest addition to the fight. Something Knuckles had deemed a bad replacement for Sonic when all thought the hedgehog was dead. Swept forward wings accompanied the narrow and slim nose and fuselage design of the hemisphere-hopper, straddling the stratosphere to achieve the best and quickest distance flight, making Sonic sometimes jealous.
Passing the nose landing gear, Julie stopped before stepping onto the lowered ramp and looked back. Her eyes shot wide open in relief.
"Finally!" she shouted when the white coat–and feathered–Doctor Quack approached her, Amy in tow with her Pico-Pico hammer. Their delay was apparent from the eye-patched duck's shortness of breath and the black doctor's bag he held in his right hand. "Got everything?"
"All set, milady," breathed out Quack. "The staff will be awaiting us in the backup care-center." Which Julie remembered it was on the north end in the city. "Once Amy told me it was the Hawking," Quack continued, starting him and Julie up the ramp, "I knew where I was going." His eyes narrowed with direness and question. "Any word of survivors?"
"None," replied Julie almost too evenly.
"Well," came Amy's harping voice brightly, "one way we're going to find out is if we start scootin–"
"Who says, we?" Julie-Su gazed on scoldingly.
The pink furred hedgehog's uni-brow rose in anger and disdain of where this was going. Even her hammer lifted from the concrete floor. "Hey!" she screamed, "I'm just as part of the Freedom Fighters as anyone."
"That's correct, Amy," put in the good Doctor like he would to a stubborn patient, "all the more reason you need to stay."
With her striking head going back and forth between the duck and the echidna, she protested, "C'mon, Su. I've been training with you, and you know I can help."
"Not this one, girl."
"But!"
Julie placed her cybernetic gloved hand on Army's shoulder, making sure she made her squeeze one of comfort. "No buts, girl. Look at it like this–Bunnie is staying because she might be needed, and I'm not going to help rescue my Knuckles."
"And all this means?" Amy said, crossing her arms and tapping her shoe.
"It means we all have to give or take for what is needed."
Quack stepped in. "Like wise, Amy. I really need to go with Hershey and Rotor to care for any injured or sick they might get tossed with, but..." he swallowed just to clear his throat from the abundance of exhaust from the Lifter, "but the Hawking is more of a priority with me since I took care of a few refugee's on there."
"In which case," Julie nuzzled in, "you need to stay in case we need the room." And what she didn't add that was the real excuse was she didn't want to expose this young hedgehog to the aftermath of sheer brutality.
But then there was Ray.
"Hey!"
Julie almost cringed when she heard Vector's brittled, low voice shout to her. Looking over her shoulder, not only did she see the all-too-cool-for-anything crocodile standing at the edge of the ramp on the inside of the Mark Two, but Mighty was there waiting beside him, both in a pose of impatient.
"C'mon, daylights burning!" decried Mighty.
And it seemed on cue that Ray began the engine start sequence to the main thruster. The groan and whine was a bit more throaty than the Lifter, but all the more pitched in frequence and decibels. Shuffling her head from the new urgency growing with every raised raging whine, Julie looked to Amy and said with a raised voice of her own, "Go to Sally, Amy. Please. We need to get going!"
It felt as if Amy's slipping away from Julie's hand was like the echidna had lost a friend who never was, and who will never be. Julie swore the hedgehog's walk away from them was more like a sulk than a determined stride up to Sally, wondering if she was going to address the Princess like she was her mother and pout her way into the Mark Two. In due course of seeing this, however, it was Quack's gentle hand on her shoulder that brought her back to the main objective of everything.
"Let's go before she barters her way in," he said thoughtfully. From his gaze at Julie, somehow she could see what the Doc knew what laid ahead for him.
A fast turn and a rush up the ramp, Mighty awaiting them at the controls to raise it when both echidna and duck reached the top. Even under the idle of the lone engine she could her the actuators powering the lifting mechanism. And before long, the outside air was closed to the pressurized cabin and the daylight forced out like slowly sealing a metal can from the inside.
Rustling her way between the seats that made up the passenger part of the cabin, Julie-Su made sure she thumped at Vector's seat while he was working to put his web harness on.
"Hey, toots!"
"Hey what, just making sure you're not dead from boredom," she sauntered back at him, making her way to the cockpit seats, which weren't separated at all from a cabin wall–and meant she could hear every barb from Vector the whole way there. Collapsing in the left seat she vividly remembered Aleutian sitting in on their jolting trip back from Angel Island, where she got to see Sally panic for once, and really started to wonder about Knuckles' depressed, self-proclaimed brother whether he was about to kill them all–and Tails listening and acting on his instructions. Julie worked her arms through the chest harnesses, snapped them, and began gliding her fingers roughly across the panel, activating screens, radar and locating systems.
"Engine is running normally, Su," announced Ray over the revving thruster.
Looking over to the yellow flying squirrel, Julie only nodded before returning her attention to the window. The Turbo-Lifter was about to do its runup on the runway and just as quick, launching itself up the towering boost-ramp at the end of the gaping forest canopy. "Begin runup. Boost all power when the transport is off."
"Roger, Julie," said Ray excitedly. Turning his head back he shouted, "Everyone strapped in!?"
Thumbs up came from Mighty and Charmey while Quack gave out a very eager smile. As for Vector:
"C'mon, push them slow pokes outta 'da way!"
And with that quip and barb, Julie asked, "Weapons?"
"Charging," replied Ray.
Dark, streaming smoke began to escape rapidly from the wing mounted turbine engines of the Turbo-Lifter. The jet wash seemed to shake the cockpit window as the noise pelted the structure of the Mark Two. And like a lumbering oversized goose who ate way too much, the Lifter labored forward before Rotor nailed the underbelly mounted Jatos–looking like eight tubes to either side of the landing gear pushing fire out the nozzles–for assistance up the ramp.
Next, it was the Choatix turn...and Ray was already thumbing for the afterburners while pressing the throttle bar between him and Julie-Su forward.
"What is that coming out of Knothole?" Merlin's clear voice chimed from over Tails' shoulder.
Amadeus cast an eye out the cockpit as his light nap was broken from Merlin's call. From the fog of his vision and weary mind, he descried a faint smudge rising sharply from the forest canopy, suddenly leveling before banking briskly to the west on its northern direction. Blinking his eyes further, he could see it was a large transport, its twin engines pushing black smoke in its wake. "One of ours I hope," Amadeus Prower announced in his now alert, groggy voice.
"It's the Turbo-Lifter, dad. Sally's parachute plane when she had the cool idea to do drop-in raids during the first war. The wolf packed helped with–"
"Sorry to cut you off nephew," Merlin interjected easily, "but don't you think that's pretty fast of a climb to tell you something is up?"
Without further instructions with a coordinated use of words, Tails drifted his right hand from the control yoke and began to operate the com-link just to the right a monitor that showed a good quantity of digital flight gauges. Once he typed in the sequence for the secure channel, and soon hearing the electronic buzz of the other end receiving the hail, the monitor went blank, throwing the flight display to an overhead monitor just above the cockpit screen.
Seconds seemed to tick by before Sir Charles Hedgehog's crusty face lite up the monitor in front of Tails. "Knothole. General Prower, is that you?"
Amadeus searched for the monitor's camera; almost laughing when his son pointed the thing out to him just above the screen. "Charles, it's General Prower. What's going on with the–"
"Sir, please accept my apology when I say, where have you all been!?" Charles thrusting voice almost made Amadeus spill back into his chair and Tails' smooth ride into a bumpy venture. "Sally and Elias where beginning to wonder if this cipher we've been trying to crack had you all mixed up in it. It's bad enough we thought my nephew was snagged by it and leading us all into a trap."
"Charles," Amadeus eased with a puzzled voice, "stop and back-up and explain what's been going on. Look, I'm sorry we haven't done a com-link with you, but Elias' mission about Aleutian took us close to Old Mobotropolis, and dangerously close to Eggman."
Charles' voice came back with understanding, "I understand, Amadeus...okay, brace yourself, you're not going to like this, old friend. My nephew, along with Knuckles and Royal Guardsmen Antoine snuck themselves into a prison camp."
"What!?" came Amadeus' rocketing voice. "I thought I told them to take pictures and come back so we can conceive a plan of action and give time for Eggman's messages to solidify so he doesn't."
Tails could see Charles' head shake on the monitor. "I'm sorry, General, but I'm siding with my nephew from what Knuckles reported." A pause from the other end, bringing Amadeus closer to the monitor. "Knuckles says the camp is supposed to be executed today!"
There was no moment for reflection, or to device a course of action; Amadeus just came flat out with it. "Who're you sending?"
"Rotor, Hershey and a hand full of St. John's troopers."
"So this leaves the Choatix–"
A shattering rumble came from the outside through the walls of the Hoverbot. For Tails, seeing the Mark Two shooting up from the foliage was a weird, alien sight to him. It looked like an arrow shooting backwards with a large blue, white flame coming from the tip, propelling it up to the heavens. The sharp climb was still breathtaking; even from his vantage point, skimming the treetops. And when he thought the flare of the engine couldn't get any hotter, whoever was at the controls switched on the booster-drive and the jutting flame grew brighter in color and in length. Tails swore gravity had disconnected Her fingers from the Mark Two just by the sheer speed it was now traveling under at in the race to the clouds. The Hoverbot rattled from the ignition of the booster, Tails holding steady as he traced the blue flame and silver ship to the outer reaches of the sky, curving almost on its back.
"Okay, as for the Mark Two," Charles pipped in from the com-link, figuring the reason for Amadeus' was well on its way. "Nicole picked out a distress signal from the Hawking."
"Okay?" Amadeus asked very wearily.
"Julie-Su is taking the Chaotix to check for survivors."
Amadeus slammed his right fist against the hull to the side of him. "Charles, are my instructions not clear. We've now successfully left–"
"Dad!" Tails interrupted nervously. "Eggman's probably listening in."
Amadeus could feel the cold shiver trickle over every fiber of fur on his skin. It left him almost bleak with knowledge. Yet inside, he was churning. "When is the King going to listen to me? After all, he's wanting my advisement on things I've learned from my time in space and could help the Kingdom." But he had remind himself; he was a new comer to this war. He was still learning about his son's way of fighting Amadeus' new enemy.
"Well, at least the Guardian is taking charge," he fished from the back of his mind.
However, Tails grumble along with Merlin's raised brow said different.
"Do you know Knuckles at all, dear Brother?" Merlin asked very pensively.
A wandering gaze caught his son's and Merlin's. "Why, he's a Guardian. They're responsible right? He can lead Sonic around...right?"
Tails answer was him rising from his chair and snapping two switches on the overhead control panel. A low hum started to resinate through the interior of the Hoverbot.
"Well?" Amadeus quizzed as he watched his son slid back down in the chair before taking his free hand and placing his belts over his chest.
"Dad," Tails began under his labor, "you weren't here for the first war."
"Yes, I know, but–"
"Dad," Tails said very sheepishly, worried nonetheless. "Dad, Sonic and Knuckles used to hate each other during the first war."
With this, Amadeus collapsed further in his chair, forgetting that Charles was still on the monitor.
"As I remember Locke saying," came Charles' voice. "'My son has a bit of a hot head.'"
"Just great!" barked Amadeus through his new frustrations. "Charles, will be down there in a second, and we'll talk this over."
"Umm, better ask your son first, General. Your Hoverbot just powered up its weapons...Knothole out...happy hunting."
Amadeus snapped his head to Miles, but found he didn't have to work hard to do it. Tails had banked the Hoverbot to the left and began a hard climb, the hum above him was starting to level in range and pitch, and the added G's were helping his fears sink in better. He was about to speak until he saw Merlin settling himself in his seat, clicking the seat-straps across his robe before clasping his hands in for what looked like an old fox ready to enjoy a nice flight.
"Brother," Amadeus squinted, "don't encourage him."
"Dad," said Tails impassively, "Sonic is in trouble. He's trying to save a bunch more Mobians, and its something I've always tried helped him with. It's what we do."
Amadeus studied his son's back, his twin tails poking out from either side of the seat.
Then Merlin's voice keyed into the hull. "Strap in brother. You're about to get you first dose of combat in the new war."
Finding the straps behind his back, Amadeus settled in himself, hearing the throttling Hoverbot engine calling on the distant soldier in his soul to come alive...for this time he was marching into war under his son's power.
It seems when I do my edits, the chapter becomes funner. How did my plan on words with Lemeans, Leo and Henry come out? I do hope you all got it. I also have to make a screaming apology for introducing a bunch of new character's into this so fast, but you have to understand, in my defense, that this is the first time I placed Lemeans in the center of the narrative (or you in his eyes--then shifting off to either Leo or Henry)
Also, how was Snively's scene?
And how was the scene with Chuck, and really with Elias, since we hardly ever see him? (AND I MENTIONED HIS WIFE AND CHILD!) I tried to give equal "poetic" description to the main character's as my OCs. Gained this insight from taking the Mary-Sue litmus test. (BTW; Aleutian scored a high 30, and Lopper was a whopping 4! More to come! The lower the score, the better) And lastly, the leading up with Julie-Su, then St. John and Hershey, and finally to the Prowers? Believable? Riveting? Again, I do hope so...the few people who've read the next chapter didn't want to stop...and were left drained from the few scenes.
All Sonic fans will be rejoicing--even though this is a Knuckles fan-fiction story.