Aftermath

"Well? How'd everything go?" Sally's casual voice punctured Tails' ear drums and violently tore the fox from his stupor.

Without a word, Tails rose to his feet and silently began to disembark from the cockpit. He desperately hoped that Sonic would be able to produce a proper answer, fortunately enough, it was Gregory who was the first to answer.

"Good enough," he spoke through a broken smile while climbing off the plane. "We got it done," he said with a gruff tone and a nearly sarcastic shrug as he walked past the princess.

The mild relief Tails garnered from Gregory's input dissolved as soon has his boot clacked against the tarmac. He could feel Sally's gaze drilling into his back. Before the kit could turn around to address the princess, the vague reflection in the air craft's paint caught his eye. The undescriptive shadow simply stared directly back at him like some kind of dark mirror.

"Tails?" Sally's beckoning voice caused his spine to shiver.

"Yeah," Tails said when he turned around to face the chipmunk. "It was… we got it done."

Sally's head instinctively tilted forward; several strands of hair fell across her face which she gently brushed away before placing one hand over her mouth. Her eyes washed across the fox's face, and all Tails could do was try to keep his own exhaustion and fear at bay.

Tails had learned and developed the skill from the thousand times he watched Sonic do the same thing. The hedgehog had always been a shining beacon of resilience, and Tails knew he'd have to be no different. So with a soft shake of his arms, Tails attempted to walk forward towards his barracks, only to be halted by the princess reaching out her hand to touch the top of his head.

"Hey." Sally tilted her head to the side, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Tails whispered with a broken smile of his own and nodded his head, "just tired."

Without so much as another word, the fox slipped past Sally and she watched him walk away, and a quick breeze kicked brown dust up into the amber light of the early evening. It was a melancholy sight if Sally was truthful. Watching the kit walk away from the last dusk of hope that he might ever have a normal life.

"Still worried 'bout T2?" Instantly, a smile returned to Sally's face as she spun around to see Sonic.

"He did good," Sonic said before the chipmunk could even answer what had apparently been a rhetorical question. He snaked a hand around her shoulder as he continued, "he saved our tails, today."

"That why Gregory said it was 'Good enough'?" Sally asked as she cocked her eyebrow.

"We got it done," Sonic shrugged nonchalantly. "We're still all in one piece. And now Butt-nik's depot and a bunch of SWATBots are scrap… Win-Win."

Sally couldn't help but to roll her eyes at how casual Sonic was, "A win- win he says. To tell you the truth Sonic, I don't know where there's a win in any of this."

"There is," Sonic retorted, only to be met with silence. "There has to be, Sal. Otherwise… why keep fighting?"

XXX

Tails' trip across the tarmac was silent; he was in fact tired, but there was a deep gnawing feeling of despair in the pit of his stomach. As the last remnants of warmth slipped away with the sun, Tails didn't dare look back at the plane or the other freedom fighters. Truth be told Tails couldn't even stand the thought of looking Sonic in the eye after such a close call.

The cold steel of the door, pressed against Tails' exposed palm when he pushed it forward. Immediately the familiar, stale air pressed against his muzzle. It was often an almost comforting feeling, but more often than not, it'd remind him of Knothole; the old mess hall had the same feeling of stagnant atmosphere. Just like his barracks, the mess hall was a communal space; a chamber where bread was broken, laughs were shared, and memories were made.

"Hey kid," Rotor's greeting caused the kit to jump and he watched Tails squirm under his casual stare. He removed himself from the kitchen's doorway to lean against the bunks beside him. After a short period of silence, the elder mechanic broke the stalemate. "Gregory came in here a minute ago and said that you took out an entire platoon of SWATBots. That true?"

"Uh… yeah," Tails answered and slowly sat down on the edge of his cot. "Guess he forgot to mention the rest of the details."

Rotor studied the fox's face; he knew that solemn frown and sunken eyes better than most. He'd catch that look in his eye most nights after lights out. Tails would stare up at the bunk above him, sometimes for hours before falling asleep. He'd seen it a hundred times, but never this distraught.

"The drop went well," Tails began almost automatically. "The guys got to the depot without any real issue, but not long after… It sorta went south."

Rotor cocked his head to the side and he watched the fear and guilt shoot across the fox's irises when he looked up.

"There was a patrol heading straight for them; Gregory called for the strike and well, I strafed the depot."

"So what?" Rotor cocked his brow and crossed his arms, "Sounds like you did your job to me."

Tails' ears flattened against his skull, "I almost killed him!"

His confession hung in the air like smoke. Confusion laced dread washed over Rotor's mind and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

"I almost killed Sonic, Rote." Tails nearly whispered and shook his head, "and… There was more than just supplies in that depot."

Rotor was at a loss for words and could only watch Tails' pained expression disappear behind his palms. His fingers dug into his head fur until they constricted around his ears. The kit's anguished whimpers shattered the quiet as he attempted to remove them from his cranium.

He'd known Tails always as a quiet and composed pilot, not once had he ever had such an adverse reaction to any mission. It was nearly crippling to see the youngest freedom fighter experiencing such extreme stress. If this was his first mission, how long before the kid would succumb to his own despair?

"For Acorn's sake, Rotor," Gregory's disdainful hiss ripped Rotor from his shock as the wolf stomped into the room. "You're just gonna let him sit there like that?"

Before he had a chance to retort, Gregory angrily swatted Tails' hands away from his ears. "Keep it together, kid," he scolded. "You did your job; we had a close call, but we all came home."

Tails' eyes glazed over and his face fell still as if to contemplate what the wolf had said. Finally with a deep breath, the fox conceded with an understanding nod. "Sorry," he whispered just loud enough for the occupants of the room to hear. "Just not how I pictured the first real mission to go down."

Quiet once more filled the room, save for Gregory's exasperated sigh, and he leaned against the bunks.

"He knew we were coming," the wolf said quietly, garnering stares from the other two occupants.

"He had to have;" Gregory continued, "he intentionally put Robians in harm's way to try and keep us from destroying those supplies." A thick, foggy tension descended upon the trio because of the suggestion and the disturbing reality that set in shortly after. The wolf's eyes were hardened by both anger and dread as he looked straight ahead, "Get some rest, kid. Sally's gonna want a full debriefing in the morning."

XXX

The faint light of the Freedom Fighters' outpost was soon swallowed by the billowing cloud of smoke that emanated from the city. The rubble of the eradicated armory still smoldered with embers lurking beneath the surface of twisted steel and iron. Worker bots had descended on the site like flies, scavenging for reusable components and collecting scrap to be recycled.

Amongst the crowd of clunky, rigid, inorganic creatures, was a form that moved smoothly and swiftly. A tan colored fox, clad in a solid black uniform clambered over the jagged debris. He made no sound, save for the gentle clacking of his slinged rifle. His eyes glowed ominously with an angry amber and his muzzle was contorted into a frown of obvious disappointment as he surveyed the damage.

The vulpine slowly strolled onto a protruding I-Beam where a detail from below caught his gaze. He cautiously knelt down to pick at the debris. "What a waste," he spat in an acidic whisper, and brandished a detached metal arm to no one in particular.

He stared down, with an air of sympathy, at his finding. The limb that was far too small to belong to a SWATBot was remarkably cold to the touch despite the warmth radiating from the pile below. Dents and scratches marred the silver-colored surface far beyond any hope of repair and after a moment of silent contemplation, he tossed the metal limb to the side. It clambered and clanged its way down the pile and came to rest at the feet of another robian, that swiftly discarded it into the nearby scrap pile.

"Axel," a deep, haunting voice crackled through his radio and caused the fox's skin to crawl.

"Sir?" He answered submissively.

"Have you surveyed the damage as I requested?" Robotnik asked slowly and calmly.

An intangible cloud of breath left Axel's muzzle, "Just finished my walkthrough, Doctor."

"Good," the tyrant grumbled slowly, "report to my chambers."

XXX

The dark corridors of Robotnik's lair were unpleasantly humid and rank with the stench of decomposition and corroded steel. He passed several chambers in which he could see the vague silhouettes of mobians strung up by chains, with small pools of grease and blood gathered below them. He'd heard rumors of a failed partial-robotization program and the very thought of something so revolting made him shiver with sickness every time.

Soon the clacking of his boots were nearly drowned out by the familiar wet, laborious breathing and Axel stopped to inspect his uniform. Quickly and quietly, the fox straightened his attire taking care to ensure Robotnik's logo was proudly displayed over his left breast pocket. Once satisfied, his eyes gazed forward to a closed blast door with the same insignia.

"Doctor Robotnik," Axel announced his presence, "I have arrived." In response a small, round camera came to life and rolled around in its socket like a mechanical eyeball. A moment later, the blast door raised up, granting the fox entry. The madman's throne was facing away from him and the silhouette was cast against a massive wall of monitors, all displaying different sections of the city.

"Good evening, Sir," Axel reported, receiving only a grumble of acknowledgement in return. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Mmm," Robotnik grumbled once more before taking a deep, wheezy breath. "Axel, my boy, do you know why I allowed those rodents to destroy one of my depots?" He mulled over whether Robotnik's question was rhetorical, creating dead space to be filled by only the heavy breathing.

"Answer me, boy." Robotnik's drastically acidic tone knocked the wind out of the fox.

"No, sir."

Robotnik's throne then turned around, revealing the Tyrant; his face was horridly wrinkled with burn scars and contorted into a rageful snarl. "Then how DARE you refer to my strategy as wasteful!" He bellowed, and rose from his seat.

He wheezed deeply as he moved his enormous body forward, limping with every step. He cast out a metal arm and grabbed the fox by the back of the head and smashed Axel's nose against his own. He nearly vomited in reaction to the greasy sweat of Robotnik's skin.

"I see your every move and I hear your every word! Do you think you are greater than your master?!"

Before Axel could even answer, he was cast across the chamber. He slammed against the ground and rolled until his back collided with a solid wall of steel. He felt tempted to reach for his side-arm when he saw the gelatinous monster bearing down on him, but it was too late; Robotnik picked him up by his throat and slammed him against the wall.

"You will leave the hedgehog to me!" Robotnik said between burdensome huffs, "He is MINE!"

Axel stared into Robotnik's hellish red iris, and the pressure in his face continued to grow as he struggled to breathe. "Yes, sir," he finally squeaked out; and much to his relief, he was dropped to the floor. He gasped and coughed on all fours, as if groveling before the tyrant.

"You dare disrespect me again, and I will hang you from the chains myself!" He threatened and pointed to a single monitor, displaying the very room Axel had passed earlier. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Lord Robotnik."

"Good," Axel heard him growl and felt molten drops of saliva hit the back of his head. "Now… Put together your best men. I have an assignment for you."

A/N: Well after another eight-month delay... I finally managed to put together another chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! As always, Rock on and God Bless!