Shots In the Dark

Year 3236, Day 134:

There was a piercing blaring sound and Trystan shot up and bashed his head on the underside of a workbench. "Shit!" He recoiled, tried to ignore the pain and rubbed his head. He slowly got up off the cot that he had placed there and looked at the clock he had placed the previous night. It read eight-fifteen in the morning. "Ah, double shit!"

Trystan was not prepared to drag himself out of bed. He was completely unprepared, as he hadn't even finished unpacking and finding a decent place to store his clothes. Reason being he was stuck living in Tails' workshop. His unexpected arrival meant work had to be started on a new cottage for him to move into, and while it wouldn't take more than a couple days, it was a bit of an annoyance. He was forced to sleep on a cot; it wasn't bad, but the thing was pretty raggedy and he hadn't even slept for more than four hours.

"First day on the job and I'm gonna be late. Perf, absolutely perf, thanks a lot," he mumbled groggily. He managed to dress himself up in grey sweats and one of Z's old sleeveless shirts and stumble out the door in under seven minutes and he quickly headed in the direction of the training grounds. The morning dew hadn't even evaporated yet, although the thick trees overhead and the high cliffs surrounding Knothole prevented a lot of it from being touched by the sun anyway. Even this early in the morning, there were Freedom Fighters mulling about, some of them doing normal things, like reading, jogging, what have you, but there were a few cleaning some spiffy looking swords.

They must have noticed Trystan staring, because they gave him apprehensive looks and kept a sharp eye on him as he passed by. He probably should have expected it though. "Pfft. Paranoid much?" he muttered after he was well out of earshot and kept on walking. With luck, he managed to reach the field at eight-thirty right on the dot. He had to admit, it looked serene, surrounded by tall oaks. There seemed to be an obstacle course somewhere in the back, and he managed to catch a board with the fastest times. The first five, no surprise, belonged to Sonic. He scoffed.

"There you are."

Trystan turned his attention away from the board to see a few mobians gathered up on the field, one being the wolf that got all the Freedom Fighters to beat him down the previous day. All the others looked like they had been around the block a few times.

Looks like this was going to be the start of training. "Howdy, fellas," Trystan waved. "So, is this training regimen thing gonna be-"

"Listen, Overlander, just follow what we tell you, okay? We've been instructed to give you a workout, so that's what we're gonna do."

"What about actual training?" Trystan responded.

"Comes with experience," one of them replied. "Might come slowly for you, but it'll come...maybe. If you don't get thrown in the Roboticizer."

Trystan was about to ask what a "Roboticizer" was but they must have anticipated it because they immediately yelled at him to get on his knuckles and start doing pushups. He did twenty. Then they made him do twenty more. As he neared his fortieth, he remembered the words he heard on the streets of New Pacific back in the golden years. It had become so widespread since the city was founded it had become its anthem. "Hoc quoque transibit," he grunted. "This too shall pass."

"I heard you mumbling! On your back, get ready to do pull-ups!"

He rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked.

Hours later, Trystan remained in the field long after a few cardio workouts, throwing punches at more training dummies. As he put it, "I won't get tired easily because they can't fight back." The trainers looked at him like he was crazy, but he could tell they really didn't care. They didn't like him. Mobians didn't like Overlanders, it was an intrinsic fact of nature.

Hell, Overlanders don't like Overlanders, and that's why some of them seceded. He threw a few more punches at the hard leather dummy built in the shape of a SWATbot and looked down the line. There were dozens of these dummies set up, and they only increased in durability. He was at the third out of twelve.

He shook his head and went back to pummeling the dummy. It felt refreshingly cathartic.

He beat up dummies for at least fifteen to twenty minutes before he finally felt tired enough to grab lunch. Trystan was about to go to the nearby river, splash water on his face, and hope some of the sweat would die down, but as he walked out he passed one of the training dummies at the furthest end. It looked no different from the others, and he figured, "Eh, one more punch won't kill me."

He jabbed its torso with all his might and from the loud *clang* and the burning sensation in his fist told him his hubris was going to be the death of him one day.

"Shit, oh God-damnit, that was solid fucking steel, holy shit…!"

He kept cursing for a few more minutes before finally sucking up the pain and walking back to Knothole proper. He had been told yesterday that there was an outdoor pavilion that was used as an "open-air mess hall," and by now it was packed.

There were Freedom Fighters all scurrying around, conversing with each other, eating, some still doing weapon checks. Trystan was slightly taller than all of them, which made him really stand out. Still getting checked out a lot. Pretty sure he heard someone mumble, "He's gonna pull out a homemade bomb or something, I know it."

Trystan ignored the icy stares and whispered comments (as best he could, at least) and quickly got in the lunch line. Nobody really voiced anything, but he could tell they wanted to get him out as soon as possible, because as soon as the chef behind the counter served him, he quickly shoved some random fruits and vegetables on a plate and handed it to him, whereas everyone else in line actually got something resembling a full meal.

The problem came when he went to get his drink.

"Water, please," he told the chef. The guy squinted at him and filled up a glass of water, which Trystan was sure he saw him spit in. He furrowed his brow, but quickly acted like he hadn't seen anything when the chef turned around.

"Here you go, Overlander."

"Thanks furbait, I didn't know this stuff came with artificial flavoring," he responded with the straightest face he could. If he couldn't punch him for fear of betraying everyone's trust (what little there was), at least he could just throw some shade and call it even.

Trystan dumped the water on the pavement of the pavilion and ate alone. He then quickly returned to the garage and pulled a notebook out of his knapsack and wrote a header in. He'd used it to keep accurate time and dates during his isolation and it's the only other thing that helped keep him sane. The first sentence he added was, "Alright, journal, the food's nothing to write home about, but at least it isn't canned meat water."

The door swung open with a loud crash and Trystan bolted upright, smashing his head on the underside of the table again. "Jesus fucking Christ, why?"

"Trystan! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were resting!" Trystan looked up to see Tails wearing goggles and a toolbelt around his waist. Rotor was beside him.

He took a minute before he exhaled deeply. "Ah, forget it, Tails. I've been hit harder."

"Hmph. Switch Nightmare City is that bad, huh?"

Trystan stood up and laughed weakly. "Nah, not really, Rotor. I'm just a dumbass who's tripped on the curb one too many times."

Rotor walked over to a small heap of scrap metal, put on a welding mask, and began picking up parts and placing them on a workbench with an unenthusiastic "I see" and nothing more.

Tails followed him, but managed to keep up conversation. "If you're saying you're a klutz, I don't think that's true."

"I didn't either," Trystan rubbed the back of his head. "You throwin' shade at me, bud?"

"No," Tails answered with a small smile.

"Hey, Tails, hand me that rusty old gasket over there will you? No, next to that one...yeah, thanks." Rotor flicked his helmet over his eyes and Tails covered his with the goggles. Trystan was far enough away that the flying sparks wouldn't affect him.

"What'cha workin on over there?"

"An airplane," Tails replied with excitement. "I'm even gonna fly it myself!"

"You got a license for that, Tails?" Trystan smirked.

"Hey, I might be young, but I know my way around machines!" he exclaimed indignantly.

Rotor stopped welding other little gizmos to the gasket he was working on and looked over at Trystan. "Considering Tails has the highest IQ for a twelve-year-old I've ever seen, I'd say he's overqualified to fly a plane," he added.

Trystan shrugged and put up his hands. "Sheesh, I just asked a question." He remained silent for another fifteen minutes, leaning on a locker and watching Tails and Rotor jointly working on what would eventually become a plane, or so he assumed from what he was told. A small part of him doubted they'd build the thing completely, considering Knothole seemed small to him, and thereby had limited resources.

Tails' sudden mention of something concerning New Pacific City snapped him out of his train of thought. "Huh? Sorry, didn't catch that."

"What was Switch...I mean, New Pacific like, way back then?"

He stretched back, contemplating how to answer this question. In truth, Trystan found his memories growing fuzzy. He felt like it had been ages since he was young enough to remember New Pacific in its prime, but he did know one thing. "...Well, it was always sunny, that's for sure...except on the days it rained, y'know. I mean, it wasn't sunny in the sense of weather, but it was sunny because...of the people. You'd be surprised how many of us knew each other by name." He smiled and laughed with a lighthearted tone, which Tails never expected to hear out of some hard-headed Overlander. "I remember the days Decker and Z would tease me about forgetting groceries after they sent me out to shop," he trailed off as he looked to the right, recalling his days gone by. "...Never thought I'd take that for granted."

"Who's Decker?"

Tails' question broke Trystan out of his memories once more, and in that instant, he remembered Z and Armin looking at him from the other side of a locked gate in the sewer. It smelled godawful, but he stuck it out because they had nowhere else to go when the airship appeared and started raining hell on New Pacific City.

"Guys...? What are you doing? Where's Decker...?"

"Don't know kid, listen we just…" Z ran his hand through his hair and wiped some sweat off his face before continuing, "We're gonna go look for him, okay? It won't take very long."

"What are you gonna do?"

"We're gonna find him, Armin and I. Kid, just do as I tell you...y'know what, here…" Z removed his hoodie, revealing a sleeveless undershirt underneath it, as well as the revolver and its holster strapped to his waist, and he quickly passed it between the bars of the grate and into Trystan's shaking hands.

"Z…?"

"Go back to the apartment, kid. There should be a combat knife in my dresser drawer, too, so use it if you need to. We'll find Decker and we'll meet you back at home. Then we're gonna book it out of this joint, okay?" The young Trystan nodded, not really sure if this whole mess was a fever dream or not. "Alright, kid now go!"

He stayed rooted in place, still in shock.

"Go, kid, go!"

Z's words snapped him out of his trance and he turned and bounded back in the direction of home. He could have sworn he heard Z ask Armin, "Ready to get Decker?" to which he replied, "Yes. Or die trying."

"Trystan, are you okay?"

Trystan snapped to attention and looked around wildly. No Z, Decker, or Armin. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead with three of his fingers. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Decker was my older brother, by the way."

Tails responded with a small "Oh," and went back to helping Rotor. Trystan, meanwhile, stayed inside for the rest of the day, only coming out to grab a single apple for dinner.

Year 3236, Day 137:

"Alright you three, we need to break into one of Robotnik's power plants and destroy these three generators." Rotor pointed to a blueprint of a factory somewhere in Robotropolis, with three rooms circled in red.

Sonic chuckled to himself. "Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. What I wanna know is why?"

"Sally-girl said it's pro'lly the best way to keep ol' Botnik distracted fer awhile. 'Bout long enough fer us t'do a number on his Dustah planes," Bunnie explained.

"Ugh." He slapped his forehead. "Sal and her precautions. She knows the chances of us getting captured are slim."

Amy hopped off the table she had been sitting on. "Sonic, they might be slim, but that doesn't mean they won't happen! Princess Sally doesn't want to take that chance. And if you got caught…"

"Pssht." Sonic waved his hand and rolled his eyes mockingly. "I'm too quick to get caught."

"Anyway," Rotor cut in, "Get ready to leave in five minutes, meet at the south exit. We good?"

There was agreement all around and everyone dispersed, walking out of the meeting room over the training center. Sonic (and Amy by extension) followed Bunnie out. "Wanna grab a quick bite before we head out?"

"Ah'm flattered sugah-hog, but y'all know chili dogs don't do mah hips no favors." She shot him a subtle, but wry, smile.

"Heh. Ya say that like it's a bad thing."

Sonic's response earned him a vicious ear-hold by Amy, and after he was done crying out, she told him, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Sonic," in a hushed voice.

He staggered back to his feet and said, "I-it was a joke, Amy, c'mon!" Sonic quickly continued on down the stairs and out the locker room to the exit to grab a chili dog while Bunnie casually made for the rendezvous point. However, as she passed through the lockers, she managed to catch sight of something going down in the training room itself.

That something was Trystan, decked out in nothing but sweatpants and wrist-wraps, duking it out with another nanite-bot. His hair was reflecting light like a freshly-minted coin, no doubt from sweating, and he seemed to be bruised in a couple places on his face, arms and chest. "Well, shoot, the 'bots ain't that aggressive, now. Only way he could be banged up that bad would be if he was fightin'em over a long time…" She watched the training dummy take a swing at Trystan, nailing him in the jaw. He responded by staggering backward and immediately running in to beat on the dummy some more, punching it multiple times in the chest. This little dance continued for a few minutes, Trystan constantly getting bashed in all over his body, until he finally managed to sock the dummy in its featureless head and sent it sprawled out across the floor, after which it promptly disintegrated.

She saw Trystan look at where it had been, panting heavily, before wiping his forehead and making for the door. He opened it and walked over to a locker, seemingly much too tired to notice Bunnie, despite how she was in plain sight in a brightly-lit room. He managed to open up his locker on the far wall before he must have caught her in his peripheral vision, did a double take, and jumped ten feet in the air. "Oh, shit!"

He promptly fell back to earth and landed on his rear, and Bunnie audibly gasped. "Whoah now, Trystan, it's jus' me! Y'all right?"

Trystan muttered a couple four-letter-words under his breath and stood back up, brushing his arms and the seat of his pants off. "Don't worry 'bout it, I'm okay. And just call me Trys."

Bunnie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Mistah Trys, what're ya doin' in there?"

"Training," he answered with a smirk.

"Ah mean aside'a that."

"Seriously, that's all I've been doing for the past couple days."

Bunnie pointed at him. "Well, what's with yer bruises?"

"I'm bruised?" Trystan answered with mild shock. Bunnie nodded. "Oh. Well, uh, it's part of my training regimen, actually."

"Trys, Ah know ya been workin' hard, but Ah thought the courses we had in place didn't do no damage, bare minamum at least," Bunnie said as she adjusted her hat.

Trystan was silent for a minute, but he eventually chuckled and sat back down on the bench in front of the lockers. "That's, eh, because it's my own training regimen."

"Y'all're doin' yer own trainin' courses?" Bunnie asked with a subtle tone of disbelief. Trystan shrugged in response. "What's yer plan fer it?"

"I've spent the last two days coming here when I can and fighting training dummies 'til I can't fight no more. I'm actually aiming to beat at least five of them in record time." He paused before adding, "I'm still only at two, but my best time is...seventeen minutes and forty-one seconds."

Bunnie's eyes widened for a second before she chuckled and shook her head. "Shoot Trys, y'all're doin' it all wrong. Maybe 'ol Bunnie Rabbot can help whip ya inta shape!"

Trystan tried to keep himself steady after recoiling from her brash statement. "Wow, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don't wanna drag you into anything unnecessary…"

"Nonsense, Trys, folla' me!" Bunnie immediately brought him back up and quickly made for the outside, with Trystan slowly trailing behind after mumbling, "Ah, what the hell? My body isn't sore enough yet anyways."

She walked him over to the training field, a few minutes walk away from the training center itself, and once they made it to the open arena, Trystan asked, "So, what're you gonna do now that you've dragged me out here, Bunnie?"

Bunnie turned to face him, and had a big grin on her face. "Ah'm gonna learn y'all some To'dai!"

"Toe-what now?"

"To'dai. 'S an old, old, martial art that mah grandpaw taught me when Ah was young. Never thought Ah'd act'lly use it, but here we are." Bunnie went on to explain that Toudai was meant to be an offensive combat style that used dodges coupled with power strikes. "'Course, Ah never learned all the ins and outs, so Ah've had to impravise most'a it."

"Improvise?" Trystan chuckled. "Shit, this'll be easy. I've been doin' improv since I learned how to talk!"

"Good! Now think fast!" Bunnie immediately rushed toward him and Trystan had no choice and let his muscles and instinct guide him as he brought his arms up to defend against a punch to his face and jumped backward. However, he assumed Bunnie was anticipating this move, because she sidestepped to his right and spun around to hit him in the back of the neck with a backhand strike, but she stopped herself. He realized that if she had hit him, the force of her hand (the robotic one, no less) coupled with his weak dodge backward, and right into said arm, probably would have put a dent in his skull.

They both stood there, right next to each other, for a long while until Trystan finally managed to say, "That's um...very effective, I wager," over the lump in his throat.

Bunnie grinned. "Ah thought y'all said y'did impravisin' since ya knew how ta yammer off that purdy l'il mouth a'yours."

"Never said I was good at it," Trystan said with a laugh.

Sonic skidded to a halt at the training field as Tails landed next to him. He could see Trystan sparring with Bunnie, just like Tails told him after he asked him to scout around for her. "Thanks, bud," he said as he rustled the fur on Tails' head. Tails giggled and flew off again, waving goodbye to Sonic.

Trystan seemed to be doing some strange dodging exercises, but Sonic eventually realized she was teaching him some of the martial arts techniques she knew. He remained on the sidelines of the arena, content to watch them fight. Trystan tried his best to defend against Bunnie running circles around him and swatting him with her steel arm and legs (because she'd probably kill him if she hit him full-force). His best wasn't really cutting it though, as he was getting hit everywhere and he seemed to be relying on blocking too much, and was getting pushed around like an ice cube on stainless steel. They went on for a few minutes before Bunnie said, "Alright, Trys, yer startin' t'look plumb-tuckered out."

Trystan, who had just jumped backward expecting another blow, bent over and gasped for breath before he looked back up, smiling. "Hallelujah." He took another minute to get back up to his full height and rolled his shoulder, which responded with a loud cracking sound. "Oof. We'll be doing this again, I assume?"

"Yep. Tomorrow mornin', meet me back here."

"Uh, I would, but that's when a few of the…" he coughed, to make a point, "others come in and try to break my back. At least until eleven."

Bunnie walked up to him and winked. "Y'all just leave that to me, Trys."

"So...you two havin' fun?" Sonic walked forward and both Trystan and Bunnie turned to face him in shock.

"Sonic…! H-how long were you-"

"Doesn't matter, Trys. What matters is you've been distracting Bunnie from the mission we set out to do earlier," he said with disappointment on his face.

"...Oh mah stars, Ah completely forgot 'bout that! How long's it been, sugah-hog?"

"We had to go ourselves, and it was going great, believe me…up until the SWAT-heads caught Amy…"

Bunnie's eyes went wide and Trystan's expression went from "tired" to "abject fear" in two seconds. Sonic quickly rescinded his statement before either of them started to panic completely. "Nah, just kiddin'. Everything went fine with just Amy, Rotor, and I. We got in, busted some heads, shut everything down, and got out. Buttnik's probably tyin' his cape in knots over it right about now!"

So far, Trystan only knew two things about Amy: she was hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Sonic, and while she was friendly, she did not take some of his jokes lightly. He laughed dryly and lowered his head. "Boy, Amy's gonna throw a fit when I tell her the fat honkin' lie you just told to make us pale-faced."

"...You wouldn't."

Trystan glanced at Bunnie and then back at Sonic before he pretended to make a dash for Knothole proper, and Sonic took the bait. Trystan went back and jolted himself forward in a fake-out which Sonic fell for, running after the direction Trystan was looking before realizing he'd been tricked, then stopped a yard away from both of them, and glared at Trystan.

...Who did nothing but grin and flash the peace sign.