Much of the rest of the day seemed somewhat uneventful. Well, at least compared to Bunnie's little outburst at the lab. I continued to work on my blueprints in my black and red striped sweater while Rotor and Porker worked on the other weapons, and I also scheduled an appointment for Shortfuse. That said, everyone needs to eat, and so around noon, we were all headed down to the mess hall for lunch. But it was after we made our way there that it began to sink in that for the duration of our stay in Knothole, things would be somewhat strange. Like a bad sitcom from Starlight City, I suppose. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The mess hall was not anything particularly fancy. In fact, it reminded me somewhat of the cafeteria aboard the Armada. It was a small yet wide rectangular building, made out of mahogany with cement for the kitchen. There were several long rows of tables stretching from end to end, and a small square peeked into the kitchen on the left side. What was important was that it was able to hold the large amount of Freedom Fighters amassed within its' halls, as well other personnel such as Intelligence Director Harvey Who, Doctor Quack, along with their respective staff. Councilor Rosie was there as well, enjoying a warm drink of nutmeg.

Everyone else had already gotten their lunch from the look of things. Myself and Rotor got ourselves a couple of BLT's and walked over to the table farthest to the right. Porker had already arrived there ahead of us, and as we started to come over, he gestured for me to sit down next to him.

Any number of thoughts starting racing through my mind. Why did he want me to sit down next to him specifically? Was he trying to get something out me? Was he attempting to make sure someone else didn't sit next to him instead? Or was it possible he merely thought that sitting next to him was as good a place as any? In retrospect, it was probably the latter. I tend to overthink things more often than not, even if most aren't aware that I am doing so. It's a most distressing habit.

I sat next to him on the bench, though I made sure to keep a small amount of distance between us. I don't always respond well to physical contact. Sad but true. Rotor sat across from me, as he always did.

Porker took a forkful of salad. He considered himself, and was, a vegetarian. Eating pork, even from non-Mobians, only served to make him sick to his stomach, and so he always respectfully declined. "So, it's all coming together isn't it?" He looked at everyone seated together in the mess hall, as though this was a scenario he could scarcely have imagined a month ago. "Who would've thought we'd already have all of this ready in just three weeks?"

"That's what happens when you've got a bunch of superpowered freaks under the same roof." Rotor took a chomp out of his BLT, savoring every bite. And as bits of bacon dropped down onto Rotor's plate, all Porker could do was squirm like wriggling insect. "Oh, sorry Porker."

"It's okay. It just reminds me why I'm a vegetarian, that's all."

"No problem. But seriously, we'd still be sleeping under the stars and whacking rabbits on the head if it weren't for everyone here."

"Yeah." Porker mixed around the salad with his fork before taking another bite. "Though sometimes, you gotta wonder why we're here. I know, that's not something I should be saying. After all, I'm partly the reason we're in this mess. If I hadn't signed on to Robotnik's byline like a pasty, then—"

I had been about to take a bite of my BLT when Porker began to start assailing himself with self-inflicted guilt. To be honest, it was something of a habit of his. "Porker." I looked hard into his eyes and his into mine. He doubtless began to wonder what the reason for this sudden staring contest was, though he would not have to wonder long.

"You can't blame yourself," I said. "You could not possibly have known Eggman's true intentions. How could you have? Besides, if you are going to see fit to blame yourself, then I might as well do the same. I am just as guilty as you are."

"Ah, geez." Porker looked away and rubbed the back of his neck as if he had completely forgotten that he had been far from alone in this. "I'm sorry, Tekno. It's just, I didn't ask for this. All I wanted was to accomplish something for a change. To do something worthwhile. To maybe, just maybe, make a difference. And all I did was help an oversized poultry product take over a whole city. I accomplished something alright. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder what it was all for."

"Hey, bud," said Rotor, "no need to beat yourself up over it. I was trying to work for Eggman too. If I'd got there even a week earlier, he would've used me the same way. Besides, we've got bigger fish to fry. Like making those weapons so we can all kick Eggman's arse. And maybe trying to figure out how to nullify that forcefield while we're at it."

It was then that something occurred to me. "Rotor."

"Yeah, Tekno?" He took another a mouthful out of his BLT. I tried to make eye contact, but it is sometimes hard for me to do so. Though I believe I managed well enough.

"You never did tell us what you were up to before coming here. Thought from my recollection, I remember you mentioned something about a tribe. I do not wish to come across as rude or disrespectful, but if you could tell us a bit more about that…"

Rotor paused mid-swallow, as if the very mention of his past from someone other than himself was anathema. "Well, I mean, sure, I guess. It's just not something I really talk about. Or that I WANT to talk about."

"Very well then. I'll go first."

Rotor's eyes went wide, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Nonetheless, it was true. I didn't talk about my past often either, but while I used to have misgivings about doing so, as of the last few years, it's more often than not been due more to the opportunity not presenting itself than anything else. I do not talk about it at every given moment, but when it's appropriate, I do not mind, or at least not overly so. Sometimes I wonder just when it was I managed to come to terms with everything in my past. Of just who I am. What I am. In fact, maybe I haven't. Perhaps talking about it with other makes it that much easier to manage, to take it all in. Who's to say?

"Hey, you don't have to have to do that…"

"He's right, Tek'." Porker put down his fork on a napkin next to his bowl. Now was not the time to stuff his face in, or so he probably thought. "If you don't want to talk about it—"

I put up a feathery green hand as if to say what I was just about to say. "It's alright Porker. It's fine. Besides, this would not be the first time."

Porker almost couldn't believe it. "Come again?"

I suppose the first occasion on which I told my sordid tale was to a friend back in college in Starlight City. That was when I started to get myself together, as it were. In any case, it was time to get started. "I suppose I should start with the Armada. Or the Battle Bird Armada as they call themselves. The Armada is a group of avian Mobians that soar through the skies of Mobius on their battleship. It is, of course, called the Armada."

"Not very imaginative, is it?" said Rotor.

"Not especially so, particularly when they have an entire fleet or armada of smaller airships accompanying it. Most Mobians with feathers are or were part of this Armada, with certain individuals such as Harvey or Doctor Quack being exceptions."

"That reminds me," said Porker. "Didn't Chirps say something about being in the Armada?"

"Indeed Chirps did. And Chirps wants some of that bargain-bin salad with some extra croutons, if Porker isn't gonna bother to eat his slop." Porker looked up to see just who was making such bold proclamations, but he did not have to look far. Still dressed in his black leather jacket and blue jeans, Chirps was looming over Porker, eyeing that salad with a literal bird's eye before sitting down next to him. "Hey there. Couldn't help but overhear you starting storytime over here and figured I'd join in. What we doing today? Randolph the Rednosed Raincheck?"

"Okay, one. This is my salad, and I am not giving it up. Just so we understand each other. And two, that is REALLY starting to get old."

"What's starting to get old? I mean, I'm certainly not getting old. Hell, I'm NEVER gonna get old, and that's a fact. Same with disco. Keeping the dream alive!"

"Oy, whatever. You were saying, Tekno?"

I resumed my tale after it had been so rudely interrupted by the class clown. "In any case, the Armada has existed for generations. Most of us Armadians aren't even sure what the Armada's true purpose is, other than attempting to find our sacred ancestral home: Babylon."

"You know," said Chirps, "I'd make a joke about that other Babylon which everyone says was a curse from Gaea to mix up everyone's languages as some kind of divine punishment, but seeing as I spent a decent chunk of my life searching for that thing with the rest of the Armada, I guess I might as well show 'em some sort of respect. It's only fair."

Rotor took another chomp of his BLT. "Just when you were with the Armada anyway, Chirps? You can't be a day over forty. Must have been a ways back when you were still running with them."

"You could say that." I could not help but listen carefully to Chirps, and everything I could hear only served to tell me that there was so much more to that sentence than Chirps would care to admit. Regret, sadness, loss. And perhaps a tinge of remorse? Regardless, unless I were to present anything concrete, everyone else would likely tell me that I was jumping to conclusions. It would not have been the first time.

"Long story short," he said, "me and them just didn't see eye to eye, so I took off soon as I got the chance. What about you, Tekno? Figure it must've been the same way with you, right?"

"Not exactly. My parents did not have anything against the armada. One was a scientist, the other an engineer. Which is likely where I gained my disposition for my professions from."

"Sounds like people I'd want to meet," said Rotor.

"Perhaps. My parents could be somewhat strict, but they still cared for me dearly. So much so that if it came to it, they would risk their lives for me. And as it so happened, that was just what they did"

"Wait, hold on a minute," said Porker. "You never mentioned anything about this, Tek'."

"You never asked, did you?" Porker couldn't help but shrug his shoulders, admitting that this was, in fact, the case. Again, I do not have a problem talking about my past if I feel it is appropriate. But it isn't something I bring up out of the blue. If Porker never asked, then was nothing I could do.

"In any case," I said, "according to my parents, I did not seem too out of the ordinary at first. A bit less eye contact than what most consider to be normal, perhaps. Somewhat more unruly than most children, maybe. But all of that changed when I began to do something most would not expect, especially out of a child."

"What, stripping naked and doing the hula while belting out a saucy musical number?" said Chirps. "Or maybe that's just me?" By this point, everyone had learned to mostly ignore Chirps when he was Chirps. Because Chirps being Chirps was merely Chirps. And if Chirps were not Chirps, then he would not be Chirps.

"Not exactly. I began speaking in my own language. An entirely made up language. And no, Chirps, before you state the obvious, I was not speaking in the Abyssal tongue."

Chirps let out a low, cool whistle. I suppose he couldn't help but be amazed. "Wow, cutting to the quick. You know you're turning me on just now, right?"

"Whoa," said Rotor. "That's not something you see every day."

"Same," said Porker. "Your parents must've been freaking the hell out. I know I would've."

"Somewhat," I said. I took another bite of BLT before washing it down with a glass of water, quick as could be and matter of fact. "They took me to the Armada's resident psychologist, and they discovered that I possessed something that no-one outside of said psychologist had ever seen."

"'Possessed something?" said Chirps. "Just what are we talking about here? Drugs? Crack? Cocaine? Demons from the Ninth Dimensions that want to tear your intestines out and wear them for a hat?"

"Asbergers syndrome."

All of three of them couldn't quite believe their ears. Even Chirps was taken aback. "Uh, wow. Um, uh, well. Sorry about that. I mean, if I had known…"

"Don't worry, Chirps," I said. "You couldn't have known."

"I guess that goes for me too," said Porker. "I'm so sorry Tekno. I knew you had something, but…"

"Count me surprised too," said Rotor. "Still hella fascinating. I don't know much about aspergers, but it's some sort of neurological condition that messes with the brain, right?"

"In a sense. Aspergers is just one facet of autism which can affect the brain in a variety of ways. It is much like a spectrum compared to anything else. In any case, Aspergers tends to be somewhat more predictable. Generally speaking, things that come naturally to most such as social mores, the rules of society, how one is expected to act; we are usually not able to learn these things as most do, and so have to be told them point blank. Even basic eye contact was a skill I had to learn from scratch."

"Having to rebuild yourself from scratch, huh?" said Chirps. "I can relate."

"The second you can relate to anyone who doesn't have the sense of humor of a second-rate comedian is the day pigs fly," said Porker. "And I'll the be the first to know." He then turned to face me. That look on his face something I would never forget. For the longest time, it was something I could not bear to face. It was filled with pity. Sheer unrelenting pity. And even now, three days later, it still makes me sick to my stomach. "I'm so sorry Tekno. If I'd only known…"

"Fascinating," said Rotor. "So how did you get to where you are now?"

"Seriously? She's pouring out her life story here and all you can say is 'fascinating'?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" said Rotor. "Besides, I don't think she wants your pity. Right Tekno?"

He had hit the nail right on the head. "Pity? What—"

"That's enough," I said. "From the both of you.

"Lady's right you know," said Chirps. "One of you's being too insensitive, and the other one isn't being sensitive enough. Seems to me she's being sandwiched between one figurative pighead and a literal one."

"Excuse me?" said Porker.

"That's enough!" Generally speaking, I am capable of retaining my calm in nearly any situation. Of course, I wasn't always this way. I used to throw a fit at just about any situation imaginable But one day, I simply… stopped. Stopped being angry. Stopped being upset, at least most of the time. And in most cases, I couldn't imagine myself being any other way. But as I've learned since, there are some situations in which allowing yourself to get just the slightest upset can be most beneficial. Case in point, my 'outburst', if you can call it that, was enough to get those three to be quiet for once in their lives.

"Look," I said. "Porker, I appreciate the sentiment, but Chirps is right. I do not need your pity, and I do not want it. No offense."

Porker wasn't sure what to say. He had thought he had been caring, understanding. And I suppose in his own way, he was. Part of me believed that I should appreciate that, and another part of me did. But another part of me did not care to be looked down on or treated differently than anyone else, just because of a diagnosis. I thought that I had gotten over this long ago, and I still believe that for the most part, I have. But I would be lying to myself if I were over it entirely. That should be evident enough.

"Uh, sorry, Tekno." Porker tugged the collar of his white undershirt, starting to sweat like a pig (which he was, of course,) as he became hot under the collar. (Yes, I am just as capable of anyone else of a pun now and then. Thank you very much.) He began to stutter, losing his nerve as he often did when placed in a compromising situation. And yet, there was nonetheless still something cute about him. Not that I ever thought much about it.

"I, uh, I didn't, I didn't mean to, that is, um-"

"Say it, don't spray it," said Chirps."

"Uh, yeah. Again. Sorry, Tekno. I was just trying to…"

"I know, Porker," said Tekno. "It's alright. Thank you."

"Then I guess it's time for my apology," said Rotor. "Sorry, Tekno. First Bunnie and now you. Sometimes I'm so concerned with the big picture that I just can't see what's right in front of me. Does that make any sense?"

"Perfectly. That said, this has all been running a bit long for my tastes." Indeed it was. When I'm talking with only a few people that I've known for a while, I can speak like anyone else for some time, or close to it. But I still have my limits. At this point, I needed to stop. I just had to. And so for the rest of my tale, I gave the abridged version.

"To make a long story short, my parents believed that the Armada wasn't the best place for me to receive proper care and attention. As it turned out, there was also another group of rouges who were planning on leaving that same night. It was serendipity. With my parents' scientific and engineering knowhow combined with their particular talents, they were able to make their escape. They and the rouges went their separate ways, and after that, they settled down with me in Starlight City. Growing up there was an unpleasant experience. And it's not something I particularly wish to talk about just now."

"I understand, Tekno," said Porker. "Growing up was rough for me too."

"In any case, after many years of trial and error, and I mean that most sincerely, I managed to become the person I am today. But I still wanted to prove myself. To show that I was just as capable as anyone else. To make my mark on the world."

"And that led you falling in with old Eggface," said Chirps.

"Yes. Which is something I will regret for the rest of my days."

"Hey," said Rotor, "don't beat yourself up about it. Like I said, I could've wound up in the same situation."

"He's right, Tek'," said Porker. "I mean, he duped me too. Don't think too hard about it."

"Thank you," I said. "And I know. But that doesn't mean it is something I'm happy about."

"Same. But it's just something I'll have to live with. And I think you need to do the same."

"In any case, I believe I've managed to cover the essentials. Your turn, Rotor."

Rotor couldn't help but smile. "I guess it is. Well, I suppose it all began back when I was just a kid growing up in the tundra—"

It was then that we all heard a rather loud 'splat.' A very squishy, very wet 'splat.' Myself, Rotor, and Porker all turned our heads to see where said 'splat' had come from. As it turned out, the source of this 'splat' was sitting right next to us. Against all odds, this 'splat' had come from, of all things, Chirp's face. And it was courtesy of a tomato that was now splattered all across his feathery visage.

Chirps was stone-faced. Just looking at him, you could not tell if he was feeling cold, indifferent apathy, or was instead slowly simmering to a low boil. One thing that was for certain was that he staring right across to the other table. And there, standing atop said table with her arm outstretched was none other than Sticks. Her eyes were crazed and her nostrils were flaring. It wasn't as though she were some wild, dangerous beast ready and waiting to kill, far from it. Rather, she instead seemed to be nothing short of a crazed paranoid manic seeking to lob a bomb into the facility. Though seeing as she didn't have any bombs in her possession, a tomato would have to do. And there was another tomato waiting right in her other hand.

"TOMATO JUICE FOR THE TOMATO GOD! THE TOMATO GOD DEMANDS FRESH TOMATO JUICE SPILLED ON THE BLOOD OF A GIANT MOBIAN CHICKEN, LEST THE TOMATO GOD TURN US ALL INTO A THICK, SAUCY TOMATO PASTE AND BAKE US IN THE FIERY OVENS OF THE ABYSS! AND THIS RAIN OF TOMATO SAUCE MUST CONTINUE ON ALL THAT THE SERVANT OF THE TOMATO GOD SURVEYS! That and I was bored. A girl's gotta have fun somehow. TOMATO JUICE FOR THE TOMATO GOD! BRING IT, PEOPLE!

Chirps just sat there. Motionless. Lifeless. Inert. Everyone waited for him to so much as move a muscle, to say anything at all. And then, just when everyone began to assume that he had for whatever reason become a vegetable, he screamed one very simple word right at the top of his lungs that was sure to turn the entire messhall into a warzone.

"FOODFIGHT!"