Out in the inky darkness of space, more specifically the little stretch of abyss known to the locals as the Lylat star system, planets of wildly different colors swung around each other with only the two at each end managing to display any stability - two giant green orbs, one vibrantly cheery and the other a sickly shade of vomit.

Somewhere inbetween, a foursome of differently sized, shaped and colored space suits began to hover into the gravitational field of dull beige Katina - some more elegantly than others.

"That is why you typically ask if anyone has any other concerns before you open a door into deep space," Knuckles' irate voice crackled through to the other three comm systems. "You're lucky at least one of us can think up a life-support system for you AND themselves."

The jets on Troy's cherry-red suit fired wildly, slowly but surely dragging him out of an uncontrolled six-axis spin. "Shut up."

All at once the troupe's heads pivoted to lock onto their target. Looming in front of them, larger than life, was the chaotic Katina, its dry, cracked exterior swarming with wispy clouds and broken by outcropping mountain ranges. Lurching into view from the left was a gigantic disc-like structure, with bulky rectangular spires jutting out of the top and bottom of the patchwork red-grey-black colony.

"Is this... I mean, it's pretty obvious this is it, but..." Troy trailed off.

"We have to hurry," Monica spat. "The facility has the means to lock loose spacewalkers into its localized gravitational field, but with its constant spin we only have a short time to get into range if we actually want to arrive at our prearranged hangar."

"That sounds awkward," Troy murmured. "If someone wants to build a fort in space why do they have to have it flailing around like this?"

"Do they teach you anything about physics where you're from?"

"Well actually I was told that I would've made the soccer team, but I was getting put in the brig too much and-"

"Never mind." Knuckles said flatly.

NSX: chApteR 11

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The four stood in one of the station's drab drydocks, a short distance away from the sickly green energy field that divided one wall of the chamber from deep space. Fires occaisionally flinched as sparks from the arc welding of a nearby fighter craft lunged at her feet. Greasy tubing, chains and jagged, mechanically-cut repair instruments that appeared to double as torture devices draped down from the ceiling. Troy passed the time with a claw lazily twisting back and forth in one earhole while the others stood rigidly with their arms at their sides.

"Dude, we're trying to present an image here." Knuckles growled.

"And when the time comes for presenting an image, I will undoubtedly do so." Troy stared off into thin air as he spoke.

Before them waddled a short, pudgy figure in blinding-white admiral attire, one side of it obviously weighed down by countless medals, ribbons and awards. The walrus squinted its wrinkly eyes and shifting his cheeks from side to side, his stubby tusks following suit, as he assessed the group. "You are the mercenary group affiliated with this Auron man, yes?"

Troy looked back forward, lurching backwards. "HOLY CRAP IT'S A WALRUS!"

Knuckles facepalmed.

"Astute observation," the admiral huffed, his cheeks reverbing for a noticeable time afterwards. "Anyways, I am glad that you all could come on such short notice. You all must be tired from your journey here, that broadcast had only gone out 6 hours ago! Perhaps you would like to utilize our mess services or lounge about our officer quarters for the time being?"

"Time being?" Troy blurted. "I thought you guys had a Heartless problem."

"Well, to be totally honest, I'm still not entirely sure how you got here on such short notice, so the encoding for your red-level security passes hasn't completed yet. We will most likely have them prepared by the end of next curfew."

"Duuuude," Troy waved his palm in front of the admiral's face. "Heartless. Not quite the benign threat you believe them to be. Listen, we don't want to overstay our welcome here, couldn't you just get someone ELSE with security access to let us go down there to mop up or something?"

"Disregard that," Monica glared at Troy. "We will remain here for the time being."

"Eh..." Troy stared blankly at the red mage as she stepped ahead of him.

The admiral bowed. "By all means, make yourself at home. I will alert the proper authorities of your arrival. You will have free access to the ship that doesn't currently require special security access." the officer pivoted backwards and created a path towards an airlock door. Knuckles lead the group in a single-file line through the portal. Troy took the rear.

Troy opened his mouth to speak but was quickly drowned out by Monica. "Your concern about the Heartless is appreciated, but there's something you have to know, Troy... we're diplomats first and super soldiers second. We have to retain the trust of those that we gain contact with as best as possible WHILE protecting and informing them. Our code distinctly prohibits us from forcing ourselves upon offworlders like you just attempted to do, except in the case where lives are in immediate danger."

"What does this qualify as?"

"It's what your sarcasm says," Knuckles grumbled over his shoulder. "The Heartless here is a benign cluster. If people start poking at it, bad things will happen. But considering they called in specialists so to speak, I don't think that will be a concern. Let's just take things easy," Knuckles slowed to a stop, causing all those behind him to do the same. He glanced back to Troy. "...Troy, you really want to get this business over and done with so fast? These field trips aren't entirely about squashing Heartless and occaisionally Vast... they're to diversify your understanding of all these foreign worlds such that we'll be able to better understand their wishes better. That, again, is a responsibility of a diplomat."

"I don't think that's what Knuckles meant." Fires sighed.

Troy's head rested in a tilt on his palms, his elbows digging into the serving counter of the mess hall. He gazed at a tall aluminum coated box, biting his lip. Suddenly he threw himself back up to his feet, stabbing an index finger towards the device and looking down to Fires with a childish gleam on his face. "...what's this do?" Troy waited for an answer, the sudden silence revealing the mechanical humming of said object.

"...it's... a refridgerator," Fires mumbled. "It's used to preserve food."

Troy quickly spun around again, rubbing his chin. "Is preservation always that noisy?"

Fires rubbed her scalp, clearing her throat as she glanced over her shoulder at onlookers.

"...I'm sorry," Troy sighed. "I know I'm kind of a stupid country boy when it comes to even the things I've seen in Shambhala. From what I was told you must have to go through all these introductions to menial objects frequently. I don't get out in the universe very often."

"Neither do I." Fires said weakly.

"Bleh, how can you even say that," Troy waved his arm in frustration at the cryptic food-preservation machine. "Me being easily entertained and mystified by things that you name off like nobody's busin..." Troy trailed off. "...sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"No," Fires hoisted herself up onto a nearby table's chair. "I... I understand exactly what you're going through. Most of your confusion applies to me. I guess."

"What's that mean?"

Fires' head stuck out and pivoted in at least a dozen directions before she slowly stared down at the plain metal flooring with an embarassed flush. "...I'm not let out of Shambhala much. Mostly in specific cases where there's a need for on-site medical attention... like more hazardous situations, or if a new recruit is in the mix..."

"So much faith in me." Troy snarked, focusing his deadpannery in another direction. On the counter behind him a miniture version of himself punched a similarly-sized Auron in the gut.

Fires shook her head. "I don't have any actual combat experience... or survival skills for that matter. It's in the best interest of the Covenant for me to pass my skills onto people who are more able in the field... who can push those powers to a higher limit."

Troy blinked, slapping his hands on his hips. He lumbered over to Fires and fell into a crouch. Their faces hung within inches from the opposite's. "...what?"

"...well, that's about it really."

Troy stabbed a claw against Fires' snout, causing her to nearly throw herself off the chair. "Auron tells me that the ability to use white magic is a rare ability in the universe. And you can't demonstrate a powerful self-worth over that? I'm disappointed. You're training your successors here, who knows that all your friends aren't just going to throw you out with the dishwater once that second generation manifests itself?"

"Ehh??" Fires shrunk back. "How do you know they're going to do that?"

Troy shrugged weakly, rising back to a stand. "I don't. But friends are people that understand each other. Oh, and I didn't mean that last bit literally. But if you think your prospects of working abroad are threatened now, you might want to take a long hard look at how facilitating Derek and Angie will affect that. If you really want to get out in the universe with your associates, you have to let them know that you're going to push what they think are your boundaries. It's that simple. Those who encourage you to push those limits... friends. Those who don't, and simply use you to further their own goals, not so much."

"...how can I become a person like that... just look at me, I don't have the physi-" Fires let out a squeak as Troy's fingers dug into her cheeks, pulling them apart.

"Listen here missy, you might be the nurse here but it looks like I'm the psychologist." Troy let go, causing Fires' face to contract again with a painful-sounding snap. "What you need is an infusion of street smarts, self-esteem and weight training... though not necessarily in that order. Stick with me and I'll help you out. In return, you help me... well, you help me help you. Can we agree on that?"

Fires rubbed her reddening cheeks, for the first time matching Troy's glare with bright eyes and a smile. She gave him a firm nod. "Mhm."

The two jumped at the sound of heavy plastic eating utensils spilling across the floor. Slowly they turned their heads to the ever-reaching forcefield window, where another group of humanoid animals, lead by a purple-furred panther and wispy-tailed lizard, stood around and laid obscenities upon a pudgier, mud-furred badger.

"WHY do you have to make this so hard, not only for yourself, but for the people who make and live their lives on this station..." the feline chuckled with thinly-veiled frustration. "All that this situation requires is a brief, temporary lifting of Katina's security protocol and/or escort to the heart of this station's infestation, the application of a few precision military-grade lasers, and a modest credit fee submitted to our out-of-system accounts, and-"

The seated officer slurped noisily on his sealed drink's straw. "In any other case I would say that you're already going the wrong way through Katina's chain of command to make such an offer. Right now however, your mercenary group's already been beaten to the punch, and for a bargain I might add. Also, I wouldn't have figured that the charismatic Panther Caroso's negotiation techniques would immediately resort to threatening my food."

Panther threw his head back in vain disgust, casting an offward glance at anyone else who would have been watching. "Really now. And what riff-raff dumpster-flying space cadets hold vigilante justice in this sector as opposed to Star Wolf?"

Troy already loomed over his table, waving weakly. "Yo."

"And who in the hell are you supposed to be?"

"From the hell?" Troy licked his lip. "You flatter me."

"This infestation is not something that will merely be cut off with precision fire," the officer interrupted, obviously hoping to curb a conflict. "This hive is comprised of a top secret compound that requires the careful dismantling of by specialists commissioned by Corneria High Command itself. Upon further reflection, I don't think that there IS any permutation of this situation that would permit me to turn over command to Star Wolf. In fact, our contingency plan involves temporarily evacuating this station should the situation worsen."

"Hang on, 'top secret'?" Troy interjected. "How many people here know exactly what's going on?"

"Wide-angle analysi of the station exterior are only available to registered officers. At least 30% of the personnel on this station are in-training pilots. If they were to realize that they were sitting on top of a giant alien parasite... I don't want to know what kind of message that would send to people who still haven't registered their first sorties in their mind."

Panther's eyes slimmed, a grin creeping across his face as the devilish machinery in his head started to click and turn.

Troy folded his arms, gazing off into space. "That's why those locksmiths are taking their sweet time so to speak."

"...A-Auron already looked at the problem." Fires spoke.

"Eh?" Troy grunted. All eyes turned to Fires.

"Approximate ma... mass..." Fires drew a tubed paper out of her sleeve. "...1.7 tons. The Heartless hive isn't very dense but it has a big volume. It's benign in this stage, but if any conflicting Nobodies or Vast get close... it'll likely go berserk."

"Unless," Troy turned back to the standing officer. "We're the ones that do it. With the keyblades, it'll immediately come straight at us. That's how Heartless react. In retrospect I don't think I've ever questioned why that is, but... that's how it's worked so far anyways."

"I have no inkling of an idea what this Heartless business is about, but if it is as volatile as Corneria insists, I will let you, their professionals, dismantle this problem. I look forward to hearing of your success."

Fires bowed to the group and stepped back, preparing to return to her table. Troy quickly took the hint and stumbled back alongside her. The two mercenary pilots slipped away as attention was still being paid to the Covenant.

"Heheheheh," the lizard sloshed about his stringy tongue. "What kind of message would that send indeed... did you pick up those goods?"

Panther tugged at the left chest of his jumpsuit, flashing the glint of a tiny camera hidden under his loosened composite breastplating. "Oh trust me Leon, that 5 minutes is enough to create an advertising campaign for our services that the personel of this station will... NEVER forget."

Several hundred sectors below and counterclockwise around the superstructure, Knuckles and Monica found themselves in a similar chamber, shrunken into the back of one of the dozen officer's lounges in a circular booth seating. Both of them shielded themselves with messy towers of thin, glass-like tablets that served as brouchures for many of the ship's facilities and associated passenger spacecraft, avoiding the inquisitive stares of the few residents that weren't preoccupied with the sports broadcast blaring from a holographic screen a short distance away.

"Wonder where the others are frolicking." Monica mumbled, letting the plastic stylus hanging out of her mouth bob up and down.

"All that matters is if they're frolicking within the reach of the law," Knuckles grumbled. He tapped one of the plates (as precisely as he could with what amounted to a mitten, anyways), causing a light pattern of the Cornerian enlistment papers therein to elevate an inch off the surface. "Troy will, for example, frolick because we outright told him to and he knows better to piss off Auron, and Fires will simply frolick because this is the first time she's been out of Shambhala in months."

Monica rested a cheek on her palm, not paying much attention as it scrunched her corresponding eye shut. "If I were locked up with a revolving door of white magic freshmen I'd want to get the hell out of the place too."

"Auron let her out because that Troy sticking his extremities somewhere he shouldn't is an inevitable situation," Knuckles said in a monotonous rumble. "Although when all is said and done Fires is about that useful too. Derek and Angie might be annoying as all high hell but the faster we get them trained up and get that little bundle of emotional baggage flung out into whatever sphere of deep space she comes from the better..." Knuckles frowned as he caught Monica's agitated fluster. "...oh, what?"

"How can you say such a thing?" Monica spat. "Vana'diel is in shambles. That woman has nowhere to run! She wants to help us, and she provides us a valuable service... what about that offends you so much?"

Knuckles leapt to a forward lean suddenly, slapping his palms down on the table with a thud that made most of the tablets on the table shift around with the sound of tinkling glass. A couple of people at the projector glanced at the two. Realizing what he had just done, Knuckles forced his conversation into harsh whispers. "She has a weak mind, a weak spirit and a weak body. You might think it's all fine and dandy that we lend her Shambhala space in return for playing nurse, but every time she leaves Shambhala she is aloof, unassertive, unreliable and outright useless at critical times. She can't even get her keyblade out half the time; any combat situation she's involved in turns her into a vegetable, a liability or both!"

"And you were perfectly groomed for endless interstellar travel and perpetual combat coming off your homeworld, right?" Monica snapped. "Fires has none of the experience the others have gained since becoming part of the Covenant."

"No, but I've long ago accepted and built myself around the harshness of life... and realized that I'd be burning a lot of bridges as this neverending journey is even less forgiving. Fires has her white magic. That's it."

"You believe Troy is just going to rot and wither away too, right? He's terribly optimistic, you can't have that in your presence."

Knuckles lurched back, throwing his crossed ankles onto the table. "Who the hell knows, when he realizes how desolate and hostile this wide wide universe is, maybe he'll snap, maybe he won't. Just like anyone else we drag up to Shambhala it's a matter of observation, interrogation and mild prodding as far as determining how badly they want resolution and how far they're willing to reach out to it."

Monica shook her head. "You're unbelievable."

"It's perfectly believable," Knuckles snorted. "And that's what creates despair in the weak."

"I take that back. You're believable. You're also a pessimist."

"Can you blame me if I'm a little vocal as far as who I trust covering me?"

"Let's just forget about this whole conversation."

The two's bodily motions ground to a halt, leaving angry facial expressions pointed at one another. Their staring contest was interrupted as Knuckles found his gaze turning slowly to a growing ruckus amongst the sports spectators nearby. The holographic projector spat out clouds of static that didn't appear to entertain its watchers as much as the on-field brawl between players hidden behind it. The humanoid figures atop the device congealed in a flash of light, leaving an arrogantly smirking Panther standing with one hand on a hip and the other clutching a wrinkled piece of paper.

"This thing on?" Panther seemingly tapped the thin air, creating several scratches of feedback. "...heh. Your military comm channels are quite secure, yes, your consolidated recreational feed from Corneria, not so much. Ladies and gentlemen..." Panther stood at attention, waving his free arm down as he bowed to his audience. "...I understand that I happen to be violating the second-last Crestball game of the season, but as you will soon learn, I have very important information regarding your stay as ensigns aboard the Katina deep-scan facility that you will find more... concerning."

"Who's this clown supposed to be..." Knuckles muttered.

"You all DID sign your liability forms upon making your journey into the great beyond, assuming that death while serving the mother planet remains a very real threat. Of course, they would do everything within their power to provide you the training necessary to ward that possibility off. But how benevolent are these people? If something DID happen to go very, very wrong with this station, would they hide information from you to prevent widespread panic while they hobbled along trying to fix the situation through cheap, understaffed, underhanded and/or shady means? This IS a pivotal station on the Venom warfront, after all! What's losing a few grunts compared to the pandemonium that would ensue if people on the homefront knew that post-Andross Venomian guerillas were slipping into commercial space?"

"Did we just walk into a coup?" Monica droned.

"I think we just walked into a coup." Knuckles chuckled.

"Who ARE the nobodies that hold the fate of this station in their hands?" Panther laughed hysterically. "How about we reveal their brilliant tactical minds with this footage of not-so-casual conversation between Cornerian officers and one of their representatives?"

Knuckles choked. "Uh oh."

Panther flashed a toothy grimace at his imaginary audience before stepping out of sight. The image flickered again, turning into a regular flat display. Troy and Fires could be seen standing before the officer in the mess hall.

"Hang on, 'top secret'?" Troy interjected. "How many people here know exactly what's going on?"

"Wide-angle analysi of the station exterior are only available to registered officers. At least 30% of the personnel on this station are in-training pilots. If they were to realize that they were sitting on top of a giant alien parasite... I don't want to know what kind of message that would send to people who still haven't registered their first sorties in their mind."

Another blast of static. Knuckles' face contorted in rage.

"Approximate ma... mass..." Fires drew a tubed paper out of her sleeve. "...1.7 tons. The Heartless hive isn't very dense but it has a big volume. It's benign in this stage, but if any conflicting Nobodies or Vast get close... it'll likely go berserk."

"Unless," Troy turned back to the standing officer. "We're the ones that do it. With the keyblades, it'll immediately come straight at us. That's how Heartless react. In retrospect I don't think I've ever questioned why that is, but... that's how it's worked so far anyways."

Monica's skin drained of life as she slid down against the booth seating. Her eyes flicked left and right as she prepared to embrace the resulting gossip. Voices in the crowd began to call out.

"Top secret?"

"What kind of message this sends?"

"APPROXIMATE mass?"

"What the hell is a Nobody? A keyblade? What?"

"It'll go BERSERK? It's going to turn this station into a burning wreck or something?"

"She said benign..."

"'That's how it's worked so far'?"

The image twisted in on itself again, devolving to another wave of pulsing static for a few seconds before returning to a wide view of one of many nondescript officers' quarters. The exact same captain stood with his back partially to the audience, taking a solid amount of time to adjust his tie. He quickly pivoted to face the live camera. "This is an emergency local broadcast to all wideband communications displays aboard this Cornerian outpost. As you may be aware, outside sources, possibly of Venomian origin, have gained temporary control over our least-enforced frequencies and are using them to spread dissentful messages amongst our noble crew. None of what has been described in this flagrant demoralization is in fact true. Rest assured that we and the mother planet continue to value your lives and your selfless service above all else, and will not withhold any information regarding your day-to-day safety."

Knuckles grit his teeth as he looked away from the display, suddenly snapping his head further back as he caught the walrus welcoming officer waving to them from the door. "Monica. Let's go."

The two exited the room. Their superior jogged in front facing them, preventing them from reaching an actual walking speed. Knuckles heaved a sigh as he pushed the uniformed flab forward. "How long do you think those people are going to believe that crap?"

"A-about that!" the bureaucrat huffed. "This situation is getting most dire! We've triple-stepped your security badge creation after this most dreadful of scandals surfaced... we should be able to secure your badges within the hour! Please make your way down to the 4-Nth security hatch, we will be sending someone to pass them off to you."

"Damn it all, Troy was right," Knuckles glanced away, concealing a furious scowl. "We should've gotten straight through to the Heartless and finished this before we figured out how goddamn crooked you people were. Now answer my question!"

"The video took place in one of the officers' lounges. No one that actually saw the clip would actually be ranked high enough to be able to identify what or where the room even was."

"Well they sure as shit know what Troy and Fires look like!" Knuckles bellowed. His gaze intensified as he turned his focus away from the two. "Have either of you figured this out yet? Troy, Fires?"

Troy clenched his fists as he suddenly found Knuckles' disembodied speech digging away at his brain. "Him... ergh... I don't know who to be more furious at right now, this backwards bureaucracy or Panther!"

"Troy, right now the station crew are trying to pass the whole broadcast off as Venomian propaganda. I don't know how well that's going to work in their case, but if they see any of the cast and crew of that little theatrical production, ahem, wandering around the ship, that's going to completely ruin any positive spin that the station staff are trying to put on it."

"Well how the hell are we supposed to get down to the Heartless hive then? There's a million different reasons that the Shambhala rifts won't let me jump down to you, li-"

"That's right," Knuckles snarled. "You have none of the prerequisites we outlined in order to use the Shambhala rift to reach me. One, there's only a handful of people on this station that even know Monica and I are part of the clean-up crew, and therefore don't have any memory of me to draw from. Finding enough data points to approximate my location would be nearly impossible. Two, there's plenty that know YOU, though, and even if you WERE able to port down to me, there's a possibility we might all wind up in a high-traffic area. If they see you or Fires, well, we've already outlined that. Anarchy would ensue."

"How do we get to you then?" Troy chewed his lip.

"You don't. You and Fires return to Shambhala. Monica and I will deal with the infestation. We're working against the clock now."

"Knuckles. KNUCKLES!" Troy slammed a fist down on the nearest table as he continued to (at least it would have appeared as such if anyone occupied the mess hall with them) snarl audibly to himself. "This is unreal, are they suggesting I sit on my hands on my first mission?! This doesn't give them any more reasons to not dislike me!"

Fires had already sat down, shaking her head weakly as she stared through the sweeping window into deep space. "...it's just as I figured... I was under the assumption that I could come down here and help this mission become a success, but I've just become a liability again, haven't I..."

"The hell did I tell you?" Troy muttered back. "We're going to justify ourselves no matter what! But... for all intents and purposes, we've locked ourselves down... how are we supposed to use that psycho-anally-warp crap to get to those two without a coherent fart in the wind as to where they've ever been seen?..."

"Troy!..." Fires leapt back up to her feet. "What they're saying is right, we have to leave before we cause any more diplomatic damage here! I understand that you're concerned about the concentration of the Heartless here, but Knuckles and Monica are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves!"

"Well excuse me, I'm a little untrustworthy of them treating a benign Heartless at face val..." Troy trailed off. He stared off into space a moment, mouthing words to himself before clenching his fists. "...that's it! We have to stop by Shambhala for a few minutes, there's something I need to make sure of..."

"A few minutes? What are y-" Fires' hair blew back as Troy's keyblade already began tearing a circular rift into the air. The weakened reality shifted and crumbled under the force of Troy's other fist. Shambhala stood open before the two again. Fires lurched forward as Troy grabbed her wrist in a vicegrip and leapt through the dimensional gate. The two stumbled to a stop in Troy's chamber, but no attention was paid to the surroundings as they burst into motion that took them out through the lobby and Shambhala's Troy-abridged front door. The metal hallway folded inwards in an almost accordian-like manner as they ran, granting them instantaneous access to the outer 'space' of Shambhala.

"Wh-what... what are you doing?!" Fires screeched.

Troy broke his grip, stepping forward in a 180 spin that left him facing down the white mage with a finger firmly planted onto the side of his head. "Don't you get it? We're missing a piece of the puzzle here! There's no stable thought aboard that entire station that confirms Knuckles' location. There WILL be, though - when he wakes up the Heartless cluster and gets the whole mess going after him, there'll be a big freaking blob of killer instinct that'll be focused ENTIRELY on him and Monica! We can completely bypass the entire space station and zap ourselves into battle with perfect accuracy without any of the Cornerians knowing!"

"...maybe you should have mentioned that to them..."

"And get another parental speech?" Troy had already written his space suit over himself, hunching down to tighten the straps on one of the plated boots. "Get your gear on and let's go!"

"W-WH-WHAT?! You want to fight that thing head on from the outside?!"

Troy stood with a haphazard grimace and a gesturing finger in the air. He adjusted his pose several times, making sure to avert his eyes with each iteration as he attempted to fabricate his next sentence. "...well they did say they were going to fight it from the-"

"No, no they didn't."

"...awkward."

Fires had already grappled onto Troy's leg, pulling it back and forth. "Please, just forget about that and let's get inside, if Auron finds that we've already returned without a debriefing-"

"WELL I'LL JUST CHALK IT DOWN AS SUPPORT FIRE!" Troy exclaimed. "You, out there, whatever you are, I want to do a search for the Katina deep-space scan facility in the Lylat system... and do a subsearch for Knuckles, you know, he's got a pad here and whatnot."

Again translucent displays zapped and zotted into existence from every conceivable angle, displaying a map of the station similar to Auron's briefing. A bright red blip appeared in its lower-center, linked by a dotted line to a gigantic cluster of flashing indigo lights along the bottom of the station.

"The hell?" Troy flapped an arm absentmindedly at the screens. "He's still all the way up there? Is that red tape ever going to stop cutting into our throats?"

"How is that?" Fires murmured. "If he's up there... then who awoke the Hea-"

"Monica Raybrandt." Troy said sternly. Again the displays clicked and whirred. Precisely the same results blinked into living color. Troy grunted and slammed a clenched fist against one, causing it to crackle and dissipate into a text prompt. "...uh?"

***WARNING*
PASSIVE SUPERSENTIENCE IN TARGET ZONE.
MASS THOUGHT REFERENCE WILL BEGIN TO DETERIORATE RELEVANCE LEVELS.
ENTITY TRACKING MAY BEGIN TO DISPLAY INACCURATE RESULTS.
MATTER TRANSFER TO TARGET ZONE DEFUNCT IN 1:46.

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" Troy rammed his snout against the screen as the timer began to quietly tick its way down. "NOW what are we supposed to..." He trailed off as he realized everything around had turned greyscale, including but not limited to Fires' irritated cries.

For that matter, time had stopped.

"Well it's quite simple, really." Ederick strode up alongside Troy, causing him to leap to the side with a yelp.

"Will you not DO THAT?" Troy growled.

"Will you not STOP WHINING?" Ederick shot back. "Take a look, right there, yeah, again, like you've been doing for the past few minutes. You're wasting time here. Someone's stirred that Heartless cluster up, and it's smelling plenty of fresh Nobodies to throw itself up against. See, that's the problem. Those things are enough of a mental mess on their own, but you have a HIVE MIND that's handing out the instructions."

"In english?"

"It's locked onto every lifeform on that station and is quite literally managing to think about all of them AT THE SAME TIME. Oh, it's also passing down that information to each of its slaves. Your wide-deep tera-parsec psychoanalysis broadcast will be rendered useless as far as finding you a safe place to land there when they throw around every possible permutation of directed thought. That is, if you keep sitting here and letting its sick little tentacles pierce every level of that space station."

"...hang on," Troy interrupted. "It said that it's BEGINNING. Then someone just-"

"Poked it with a stick in the time since you left."

"But they said everything was on lockdown down there, and even then, with that video being played no one onboard would be going DOWN there of their own free will, so t..." Troy spun back to the monitors. "Panther Caroso."

A cheerful ding incited a red dot directly below the station.

"Oh HELL no." Troy said flatly.

"Well I believe my work here is done," Ederick said flatly. "If you ever again find yourself mentally inept I'll keep you on your toes. Hopefully not within the hour."

Everything snapped back into motion.

"..nd if Nightmare were to see you he'd-" Fires spat. She flinched as Troy's hand slapped down on top of her head, making her impish ears wobble in their whiplash.

"Knuckles and Monica are walking into an ambush. I know exactly who's behind it. They are about to get a jagged, toothed weapon in an orifice not of their liking." Troy stuck his keyblade out, ripping open another rift with a flick of his wrist. "Get ready."

Knuckles and Monica tromped down a rapidly-narrowing corridor, the only light provided being an infrequent line of lifeless red hazard lights along the bottoms of the walls and the pale green strips along the walls representing card scanners. There were more of the latter than the former.

"Their engineers probably spend more time getting in and out of this place than actually doing anything." Knuckles continued to mutter under his breath as he slashed the card through the next cardlock, making the eighth hydraulic gate to part with a crash and a pained screech. He shook his head as all it had done was unveil another heavy metal door less than 50 feet away. "Be ready, Monica. We're low-manning this, there's a possibility we're getting in over our heads here."

"Stop." Monica said sternly.

"What's go... AGH!" Knuckles leapt back, removing his boots from the growing puddle of black ooze seeping through the crevices of the iron gate ahead. "...oh, no... it's already taking full physical form... that means som-"

A violent explosion sent the left half of the next door hurtling through the cramped corridor at them. A flash of yellow light crossed in front of Knuckles as one of his fists slammed head-on into the chunk of metal, deforming it and stopping it dead in the air. He calmly threw the debris down to the ground. Heavy-linked chains draped both his arms, holding a gigantic gold spike over each of his existing fists.

"Well," Monica remained crouching. "you remember you have a keyblade anyways."

"For them to make me use Sphairai... they'd better be giving me a fight worthy of it." Knuckles spat on the ground as he trudged forward into the created opening. He crouched backwards again as a half-dozen impish Shadows poured from the opening, delivering a hook that eviscerated two upon one of the massive barbs. Monica braced herself, firing a bright lance of flame from her bracelet that impaled another.

"They've advanced this far..." Monica wheezed.

"Don't stop! Keep moving!" Knuckles bounded through the opening, tearing more of the sentient ooze off to both sides as he advanced. Monica followed him as they cleaved through the rapidly solidifying Heartless. Chills began to affect her magic's aim as the inky blackness flooding the hallway began to rapidly creep upwards beyond her ankles. With a guttural growl, the flame swirled around her waist, incinerating it all in a small radius as she slogged through both the subtle sneak attacks of the symbiote and the catastrophic messes Knuckles was leaving in his own wake. Bit by bit the corridor began to give way to both sides, and for a mere moment it appeared more breathing room was being created than the Heartless could rapidly occupy.

A larger security gate was visible over the horizon, in a room with low-hanging pipes adorning the ceiling and heavy metal grating comprising the floor. A pale orange mist crawled up from the gaps in the Heartless were the floor was its most visible. Knuckles strode into the room, grimacing as more corporeal forms rose out of the advancing wave of slime. Various subtle movements of his hands swatted away the impish shadows, graduating into heavier blows that dismembered the constructs in mid-air. A massive shark-like head rose out of the mayhem, vomiting up a deafening scream as it launched itself along the floor. Knuckles' Sphairai glowed with an intense light that distorted the air. The Monk crouched and launched himself into a spinning backhand that exploded the apparition on impact, with enough sheer force to blast the flowing Heartless around him into the walls.

"Get out of MY WAY!!" Knuckles suddenly threw his fists toward their opposite sides and crashed their tops together. The fist weapons pulsed with a blinding light once more, erupting with a sonic boom. A shockwave engulfed everything in front of him and screamed onwards with a terrifying velocity, detonating the Heartless, most of the surroundings, and the massive metal gates ahead in one swift motion. The two stormed through into the reactor substation. Monica drug her blade along the ground behind her, creating a passive patch of flame that warded back any Heartless behind.

"Can you pick up anything beyond?"

"Everything goes down from here," Monica pondered. "It must've just broken up into this level of the ship."

"How long ago did this even HAPPEN..." Knuckles turned his attention to the towering cylinder at the center of the two-level chamber as the black cascaded up and around it. Another screaming face erupted from its surface, contorting as it reached out to the two and revealing a gigantic network of viscous tendon-like extensions holding it together. "...well, it's nice to get something more than casual exercise for once. Gimme a light, will you?" Knuckles clashed his fists together with another pulse of golden energy. Monica held her sword up sideways, her expression unchanging as both it and Knuckles' hands burst into white-hot flame.

A grey, quad-winged Wolfen craft rocketed around the bottom of the station's bottom spire, looking nearly bisected horizontally with nothing but a short, thick pillar of metal holding the two halves together. Its rigid, mechanical crimson paint job had been overwritten with a brilliant red thorned rose.

"Almost at the target point," Panther mumbled to himself. "First two flybys weren't able to get any reasonable scans on the infestation cluster. Readying weapons systems and running last minute diagnostics. With max-charge lasers we'll be able to peel that crud off the bottom of the space platform... and a good chunk of the base itself, but, well, that's just a small price to pay, as they'd say." Panther trailed off into a low chuckle, jerking his flight stick about as he entered a wide, speedy orbit about the bottom central tower.

"Just charging up now?" Leon cackled, swooping down alongside him. "I've been guns akimbo during your whole monologue!"

"However you neanderthals handle things I suppose", Panther grumbled. "Entering all-range mode, set G-Diffusers for evasive efficiency."

"T-minus 20 seconds to third contact!"

"Fire at will."

The giant festering blob on the collision course sprung into action, diffusing and bubbling around within itself. As the Wolfen craft let fly a barrage of bright blue energy bolts, clumps of symbiote detached and propelled themselves out into space. The resulting flak drew the fire, taking the brunt of the damage and exploding harmlessly.

"Is it sentient?..." Panther and Leon screamed by the main structure. "...split up, go in from opposite ends, loop back and take the opposite way. Switch to anti-cruiser spread-heads, there's no way this thing can handle that much fire from multiple directions."

One of the fighters pitched up suddenly, stopping and spinning back to its previous horizontal alignment. The afterburners fired and sent it hurtling back the direction it came. With precision timing, both performed a sweeping turn and aimed themselves at the Heartless. Pieces of the substructure between the Wolfens' 'wings' blew apart with deafening cracks and several dozen small missile-like spikes swarmed outwards at their target. Both craft screeched past each other in the middle, watching the others' projectiles collide and explode individiually. Spears of flame lashed out over each machine as they beat hasty retreats to survey the damage. Between the wisps of dead flame pieces of structural debris floated out.

Panther grimaced as numerous green boxes extrapolated themselves in front of his visor. "...flawless. You getting this, Lee?"

"I don't think I'm getting the same viewpoint." Leon grunted as he furiously tapped the buttons and dials on his.

"There's nothing left to speak-" Panther suddenly jerked his craft to the side as several shards of metal and splotches of symbiote narrowly missed. It wasn't the agony of twisted metal - Panther knew that all too well. The eardrum-crippling scream that had rended his skull was outright alien. Whatever was tearing itself apart was most certainly feeling it.

Troy and Fires lumbered in under the confusion, sitting directly underneath the rapidly-vanishing spire as their suit jets casually self-adjusted to keep them stationary.

"Actually... how could I even start to explain this situation to Auron..." Fires continued to mumble, Troy mentally drowning out her further reflection as he stared upwards at the creasing, twisting Heartless hive. It was a terrible ambience, only reserved for something that could just as easily, for all its chaotic disposition, humbly reach down to devour the two at any given moment.

"Diplomatic team goes to Katina, diplomatic team is crapped on by locals unaffiliated with those that summoned us, locals unaffiliated with those that summoned us make excellent distraction for the chaos they themselves stirred up while we work unimpeded."

"If they're getting beat on in spacecraft that fast though, what chance do we have? We're still in these spacesuits..."

"We don't necessarily need to go faster... just faster than the next guy."

"What's that supposed to m-" Fires shuffled back as Troy pulled his keyblade out... slowly... with both hands. Fires coughed as soon as she realized what he was in the process of doing. He did happen to be drawing his keyblade out of a mysterious light in the air, as he and others did on a routine basis, except in this case a long, thin rocket turbine happened to be grafted around its handle, pointed outwards. "...what are you supposed to be doing?"

"I could replicate and configure any technology I saw, regardless of identifying its inner workings? Is that how Auron put it?" Troy groaned as he pointed the keyblade-turned-cruise-missile upwards, with some creaks of protest coming from his suit's jets. The glare guard on his helmet suddenly clamped down. "He's going to wish he hadn't let that slip so casually. Especially when he announces he's going to take us through another world's military establishment immediately after..."

"But you can't create weap-"

"Only if it's explicitly defined as a weapon..." Troy rapped his hand against the side of the booster. "...that's why I can create a baseball bat, but it'd only get confiscated within Shambhala once I tried to attack Auron with it. If I follow that logic, creating things that Shambhala would be unable to explicitly define as weapons but COULD be, I can take the objects out of its sphere of influence and work with them as I please. If I created their laser-blaster things... or their missiles, or stuff like that, the result would've been different."

"How can you even REASON all of this?!"

Troy turned a stony gaze back on the elaborate device of his creation. "...I feel like I've seen... used it all before. Maybe Ederi-"

"J-just do what you came here to do and let's split."

"Glad we can come to an understanding." Troy spun around, lifting a flap on the side of the rocket and flipping at least a dozen switches upwards in the blink of an eye.

"It's anything but an understanding!!"

The two somersaulted backwards as the rocket exploded to life, belching out a surge of green flame that sent it lancing upwards towards the core of the Heartless hive and its witnesses in the opposite direction.

"Unidentified mass heading towards the target at dumbfire missile speeds..." Leon snarled.

"Shit..." Panther rasped as he returned to tinkering with the visor, his craft wobbling about as it continued to avoid the seemingly random bits of machinery being thrown at it. "Did the station send out its own ships finally?"

"Nuthin' translating to fighters that I can pick out." Leon began another wide bank as suddenly an unearthly scream shook the very space around him. Something of primeval origin hadn't been wounded - it had simply gained enough self-awareness to realize that it was about to occur. The Chronicle left a mild distortion in its muzzle blast as it tore into the surface of the hive, causing it to concave for a split-second before imploding under the force. Its shield orbs began to dissipate and pop one by one its host began to recede into the gaping hole it had bored into the space station.

"That worked." Troy slurred under his breath. "...I MEAN- That worked even better than even I'd guessed!"

Knuckles somersaulted back to the wall, avoiding another lash of dark energy as it smashed the grating where he once stood. He muddled back into the wall, quickly realizing how little headway he and Monica had made. Safe room to move in the chamber was running out parallel to the two's stamina, and their escape path was becoming increasingly obstructed by the room's fallen pipework - that was, if they had time to escape before the roof's integrity completely failed, which was also rapidly progressing from a distinct possibility. Knuckles and Monica stood on opposite sides of the giant face, which had turned its attention to the latter as they both sidestepped around the room's center column of Heartless.

"This is... just great." Knuckles chuckled. He wiped a congruing mixture of blood and saliva from his lips as he surveyed the backside of the mounted head. "I needed a workout."

"You come up with some of the STUPIDEST things to say in situations like these." Monica flicked her wrist back and forth in an increasingly mechanical motion, her bracelet deflecting the advancing tendrils with small shocks of energy.

"Just keep it at least mildly amused will you?" Knuckles hunched down and lunged across the floor, taking special care to avoid the numerous crags and outright pitfalls that lied in his way. With a feral gnarl he hurled himself through the air at the base of the monstrosity. His fist spikes suddenly doubled in length as he thrust them at the joints underneath, shearing through the wires with the unearthly ring of scything metal. The thunderous scream of the apparition shook the room once more. "GOT IT!!"

Monica felt herself backing into the wall as the lashing tentacles around her suddenly flailed off to opposite sides. She knew that she would likely not have another such opportunity to prepare a concentrated attack. Monica ground her teeth as the bracelet gem burned a bright blue, and her outreaching hand's fingers stretched apart. Another explosion quaked the immediate area as a gigantic bolt of lightning channeled directly into the opposite side of the head, blasting its remaining supports apart. The head's jaw unhinged as its screeching continued. Slowly but surely, it detatched and plunged to the floor as black ooze continued to pour from both it and the countless wounds on the pillar behind it.

The two fell back into what remained of the walls behind them, wheezing.

"No time to rest," Knuckles groaned as he forced himself back onto his feet with an audible creak of his muscles. "We have to pave a way out from where we came, I dunno if this place is going to hold up much longer." Monica's sole confirmation was her following of Knuckles.

She was ready to breathe a sigh of relief until another black spike leapt out from the writhing corpse and impaled her above the ankle. With a shirek Monica tried to carry herself forward with another step, but instead found herself falling facefirst into the floor with an impact that made Knuckles squirm. Knuckles grunted and leapt back to slash apart the tendril, and tore what remained from her leg. Knuckles looked around frantically and went pale at what he saw. Another lance had already slammed through the wall nearby, and another on the far side of the chamber. More and more spikes continued to shoot out and entrench themsleves in the walls seemingly randomly, and it would only be a matter of time before one struck the two's region once more.

"It's spasming!..." Knuckles grunted in shock. Monica huffed back the pain. Knuckles knew that the damage was far from lethal, but it would still stop her from making an exit on her own. "Of all the... places to..." Knuckles positioned himself between Monica and the head as its screams turned to gurgles. Though it continued to thrash about, its solid beams continued their assault, and for every one that Knuckles deflected or cleaved through, another pair barely missed one of the two. Knuckles, for the first time in however long back he could remember, was getting genuinely concerned. The two were in a very compromising position to put it mildly, and devoting an arm to moving Monica away would leave him open to a shaft of symbiote through the back.

Knuckles felt his stance shake again as a metal growl bellowed up from underneath them. Before he could formulate any commentary, the center of the floor was reduced to shrapnel as a searing-white projectile burst through it and bisected the beast in yet another grotesque flowering of black blood. Knuckles continued to shield himself as the screaming vanished into the air, replaced with the clinks and clunks of miniature kernels of metal dropping every few awkward seconds. Lowering his plated fists, he finally got a moment to himself to examine the wreckage. Not one light fixation or piece of level terrain remained, the only object providing light being the burning silhouette of the keyblade lodged in the ceiling. It was the Chronicle, its new engine already dented, deformed and burnt out beyond recognition.

Knuckles let his shoulders loosen. He grumbled under his breath.

In a dimly-lit room, Auron sat behind a simple metal office desk, slowly drumming its surface with his left hand's fingers. The right palm limply held up his chin. "I'd like to say something to the effect of, 'do you realize what you just did there', but I'm aware that the answer would be fruitless."

"What if I say yes anyways?" Troy answered cheerily.

Auron let the palm slide up his face.

"...no I didn't?"

"No, you did not."

"Well okay, here goes..." Troy tried to relax the best he could. "After that whole bit where Knuckles told me and Fires to go away post media-meltdown, we took ourselves out of the station and realized that the Heartless hive was already active 'cause Panther and Leon were down there screwing around. They wanted to convince the Katina officials to continue using their services for hilariously overblown prices. Anyways, I wasn't content sitting there and I wasn't gonna let Fires be a liability here like she was so afraid of becoming, so we went out to try to fight it from the outside. With some manipulation I was able to jimmy up a rocket engine to fire the Chronicle into the eye of the hive..."

Troy made wide sweeping motions with his arms and failed to create a convincing rocket noise. Auron reached new levels of apathy.

"...because, you know, Panther and Leon were all swooping and diving around this thing, but even at their velocity they weren't able to land a direct hit on it, and its defenses were all tied up with them, so I... so, I did... well, the exact same thing they did, but... just... I got it in its blind spot!"

"Troy." Auron droned.

"With tha... uh yeah?"

"If Knuckles told you to leave, why didn't you?"

"...I didn't want to appear as a liability on my very first mission."

"Well, you did. Interesting how the best intentions turn into anything but." Auron pushed his chair away. He stood and slowly lumbered towards Troy with perfectly silent footsteps, stopping to fall into a crouch in front of the Koopa. "Getting caught on incriminating video was an unfortunate mishap. Perhaps that couldn't have been avoided. Disobeying a superior's orders and continuing action on the sidelines with altruistic hopes, that's punishable but understandable. However... do you remember something Monica told you before you began talks with the Cornerian officials?"

Troy rolled his eyes as he wheezed out the doctrine. "Diplomats first, superheroes second."

Auron rose to his feet slowly enough to make Troy tense up again, as the looming shadow slowly engulfed him in turn. "You fired a rocket-propelled projectile at the Katina space station. That is interpreted by Cornerian military doctrine as a declaration of sector-based war."

"Wha?" Troy threw his arms into the air. "You're telling me this while Panther and his crony are sitting there firing full-tilt on the place, like..."

Troy made wide sweeping motions with his arms and failed to create convincing laser noises. Auron reached new levels of apathy.

"Star Wolf are space pirates. For some of their members, such displays of vulgar power to get their point across are commonplace. You're lucky that Star Wolf was there making so much noise - if individual fighter craft are capable of detecting where missile launches like yours originate from, then it's likely that the station's defense systems itself would as well..." Auron shrugged. "...but of course, neither would be able to detect that it came from a heat signal as small as yours. Typically speaking their equipment is searching for attack craft. As such, what you did would likely be attributed to Panther and Leon instead. In any case, any contracts they had with local Cornerian establishments are likely ending."

"Star Wolf they're called... so I'm off the hook then?"

"Does it look like it?"

"...well, no, I guess not. Where's Knux and Monica?"

"They're residing within their chambers at the moment."

Troy shifted around. "Figure they'd at least visit me after they brought me here... after how long I've been in this room and all."

"They're the ones that suggested the punishment."

"WHAA?!" Troy jerked his arms about. "After all I did for th... well, I guess I didn't actually do a lot for them on purpose, but C'MON!"

Auron moved towards the door, his duster wisping about around him. He twisted the cold metal handle, ushering another statement before he departed. "They do say they are thankful, however. But... keep one thing in mind for your future endeavours..."

"What?"

"The body can be repaired or even replaced. Honor... is much more difficult."

"Are you going to let me go now?"

"Take some time off to think." Auron glanced at Troy's wrist.

Troy grunted in disapproval as the door clicked shut behind Auron. He slumped down onto his bottom, surveying his surroundings. Interestingly the area where he sat was the only carpeted part of the room. Troy's wrists were chained (with rather forgiving slack) to the walls. An electric timer on the left clamp started ticking down from 2:00:00. "Blah." He stared up at Auron's dimmed desk lamp. A short period devoid of self-reflection ensued until Troy turned his attention to the noise of scraping across the floor outside. It paused for a moment before a small metal tray spun underneath the door and slowed to a stop at his feet.

He stared at it briefly before plucking one of the large cookies off of it.

"...e-extra... chocolate." Fires' sheepish voice crept through the crack after it.

Troy chuckled to himself as he took a big bite.