Disclaimer: All non-original characters are property of SEGA, DiC and/or their respective creators.
Inescapable Past, Act 22: Stray Dogs
Cassia followed behind Mighty and Colonel Sleet through the whitewashed corridors of GUN's Metropolis headquarters, hanging onto her big sister's hand in a way she hadn't since before she got her sight back. Something about that wolf had her feeling deeply uneasy. Queasy, even.
The way he had his arm draped convivially around the armadillo's shoulders, making idle banter like they were old friends. It totally jarred with everything she understood GUN to be. Sure, there were those mech pilots who'd occasionally shower her with candy on her way to school, but in her many hours hanging out by old Sylvia's fruit stall, she'd never once seen a patrol stop and chat.
Cassia glanced searchingly up at Clove, hoping in vain for some clue as to what she might be thinking. The younger pronghorn knew she couldn't just ask if she or Mighty also thought there was something slimy about Sleet. He was being so nice to them, one of her outbursts would just make her big sister angry.
Things had been a lot simpler with that nasty jackal bossing them around.
"And here we are," remarked Sleet as they came to an elevator.
Resembling a hotel footman in his dress uniform and peaked cap, the colonel genteelly ushered the others aboard before stepping in behind them. As he tended to the button panel, Cassia noticed Mighty and Clove exchange pointed glances, then nodded to each other. Meanwhile, the elevator doors rolled shut, and Sleet turned to face them.
Mighty grabbed the wolf by his lapels and slammed him against the elevator car's mirrored back wall, placing a forearm across his throat. At the same time, Clove let her little sister's hand go and ignited her scythe.
Momentarily as stunned as Sleet seemed to be, Cassia's yellow optics quickly zeroed in on the handgun at his hip.
"Cassie!" snapped Clove, watching her little sister lunge towards the wolf and fumble the handgun out of its holster. She couldn't grab her. The scythe was too cumbersome to wield one-handed.
"It's perfectly safe," said Sleet calmly, sounding like Mobian who wasn't pinned against a wall. "See that button on the grip, child?"
"The grip?" said Cassia, looking up from the weapon.
"The handle," Sleet clarified.
The younger pronghorn carefully turned the handgun over in her hands, scrutinizing every detail. Eventually, she located a small rectangle of grooved plastic tucked between the grip and trigger. Before Clove could tell her not to, she pressed it, flinching as the magazine slipped out and clanked on the floor.
Clove prodded the magazine with the butt of her scythe. There was a distinct absence of bullets.
"See," said Sleet, with just a hint of smugness.
"Okay, so Infinite wasn't lying," said Mighty dismissively. "Why did he try to kill you?"
"Because I betrayed him," said the wolf flatly.
"When?" asked Clove.
"During that Black Arms mess. GUN were in a tight spot. We happened to have what they needed. They made an offer I couldn't refuse but Infinite wouldn't accept."
"You were business partners?" asked Mighty.
The wolf grinned. "That would be a stretch, but partners? Certainly."
"Why does he hate the tiger lady?" Cassia piped up.
Sleet smiled ruefully. "Poor Jian. Someone had to keep Infinite and the other holdouts busy while the rest of us finalized arrangements. That particular misfortune fell to her."
"Other holdouts?" said Mighty. "Who the—"
The armadillo was cut off by the hum of the elevator doors rolling open. Sleet's orange eyes darted to the concrete corridor outside.
"Charming as this is, isn't there someone you came here to see?" he said.
Stiffening his forearm across the wolf's neck, Mighty narrowed his eyes, then stepped back. Clove powered down her scythe. Cassia gathered up the handgun and magazine and sheepishly handed it back to Sleet. Accepting it with a smile, he returned the weapon to its holster.
"Walk this way," he said, suddenly throwing an arm each around Mighty and Clove.
"Huh?" uttered the elder pronghorn, looking askance at the blue paw on her shoulder.
"No hard feelings," said Sleet. "In your position, I may've even done the same."
Speechless, Cassia looked on as the colonel steered his erstwhile interrogators out of the elevator. She plodded after them in a bewildered daze.
A crash echoed down the concrete corridor as Captain Topaz clambered to her feet, knocking over her chair in the process. She stood to attention.
"At ease, captain," Sleet called out.
The lioness relaxed her posture accordingly. Furiously blinking away sleep as the newcomers approached, her eyes widened when they stopped in front of her.
"Colonel, sir?" she said, eyes dancing between Mighty and Clove. She didn't even notice Cassia.
"Would you kindly open that cell, captain?" said Sleet, eyeballing the bulky steel door she'd been guarding.
Topaz frowned. "Sir, who are these—"
"The cell, captain," the wolf snapped. "Open it."
Mighty watched with bated breath as the lioness punched in a keycode and heaved the door open. He broke away from Sleet, freezing in the cell doorway. Inside the concrete cube of a room, he saw Espio laid out on an unpadded steel bench. The apparently unconscious chameleon's left arm was dangling limply over the edge of the bench. Its lower half was wrapped in a bloody bandage.
"What did you do to him?!" screeched Mighty, rounding on Sleet and Topaz.
"Nothing we wouldn't have done to any Mobian suspected of assassinating our boss," replied Sleet icily, booting the armadillo in the stomach.
Caught off-guard, the kick knocked Mighty clean off his feet, landing just inside the cell. Sleet slammed the bulky steel door shut. He plucked the handgun from Topaz's belt as he turned back to face the pronghorns.
"I knew he was too good to be true!" blurted Cassia.
"Don't speak too soon, child," said Sleet, aiming the handgun at Clove. "You may yet be of use to us. Now, captain, if you would."
On cue, Topaz approached the elder pronghorn and relieved her of the unignited scythe. The lioness almost dropped it in surprise as Mighty banged on the cell door. Sleet smirked.
"Now, what was this story the little girl said we must hear?" he asked.
〜
Wilting in her chair, Sergeant Gala jolted upright as the radar console in front of her pinged.
"Wha?" she breathed, watching a flashing green dot moving rapidly towards the bottom of the console's screen.
The blue dog rushed out of the guardhouse and looked to the sky. Without the benefit of binoculars or night-sights, all she saw was a bright light streaking through the darkness towards the South Sector. Whatever it was, it was moving too fast for Gala to estimate its altitude.
She looked in the direction it'd come from: northwards, where the illuminated GUN insignia atop the base's central tower shone like a beacon in the middle distance. That ruled out it being a Badnik. Squinting at the gaudy GUN logo, Gala plucked a radio out the breast pocket of her mottled grey fatigues.
"Major Maw, sir?" she said into it.
No response.
"Watchdog to Rtooth?" said Gala, resorting to callsigns.
Still nothing. Not even static.
"Major? Can you hear me, sir?"
Yet more silence.
"Dammit," she muttered, starting across the zone Major Maw's detachment had established around the South Sector Barricade's north gate.
The Barricade was a twenty-feet high concrete barrier that encircled the surviving quadrant of Metropolis. It'd been built in Robotnik's time, to keep Metropolitans from escaping lives of indentured servitude to the Eggman Empire. Nowadays, it was mostly a canvas for budding muralists that was simply too much of a hassle for GUN to demolish.
Today, however, it'd been something of a boon for the beleaguered organization, largely containing the swarm of Badniks on their behalf. Indeed, Gala and company had only had to deal with a handful of the robotic critters.
"Y'seen the major, Allegra?" Gala called up to a brown dog, perched on the edge of a nearby armored personnel carrier.
"Huh? Oh, hey, sarge," replied Allegra, looking up from a submachine-gun in her lap. "He's inside."
She slapped the black APC's roof.
"Has been for a while, actually," she said offhandedly.
"How long?" asked Gala.
Allegra shrugged. "Search me."
The sergeant stopped short of thanking the trooper as she walked round to the far side of the boxy vehicle's hull. She banged a fist on the door-shaped side-hatch and kept on hammering until she heard something like a lock shifting inside. She jumped back as the hatch flew open. Major Maw did not look happy to see her.
"Do you always take radio silence as an invitation to disturb a superior, sergeant?" asked the thylacine tersely.
Gala frowned. "Major, sir, we detected a flyer heading into the Sector."
Maw cocked a brow. "Into the Sector? Where from?"
"It was headed due south, so possibly headquarters."
The major's expression hardened. "Any chance it was a Gun Hawk?"
"I'm…not sure. I thought Omega took out—"
"Sergeant, perhaps you could confirm such things with HQ before wasting my time with UFO sightings!"
With that, Maw slammed the hatch shut. Reengaging the lock, he stalked back to the two rows of seats lining the APC's interior. He slumped down in one and yanked back the right sleeve of his mottled grey fatigues, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes on a device strapped to his wrist.
"What was that about?" asked Connie.
Maw sighed. "Don't ask."
"But we're curious," a male voice chimed in. A water buffalo's face replaced Connie's onscreen. "You sounded about ready to bite that bitch's head off."
"Sorry if I'm a little perplexed—"
"Perplexed?" scoffed Connie. "You're downright cranky!"
The thylacine bared his steel teeth. "Then get this situation fixed!"
"We're trying, believe us," said Axel.
"What's taking so long?" asked Maw.
"That fricking farmgirl's gone dark on us," said Connie. "Of course, if you'd get off your ass and go pay her a—"
"I can't just go walkabout," snapped Maw. "Some of us don't have the luxury of ignoring orders that don't suit—"
"Bring that up one more time and I'll tip Sleet's goons off about you myself!"
"No, you won't, Connie," interjected Axel. "Sit tight, 'major'. We've all waited for this. We can wait a little longer."
"Easy for you to fuckin' say," grumbled Maw as the screen on his wrist went blank.
The thylacine pulled the sleeve further up his right arm, revealing the dressing over the wound where that damned chameleon had stuck him with a scalpel. He could barely hold a gun right now, much less shoot one. Were he to venture out there alone, he'd struggle to defend himself from a gang of schoolboys, let alone a suddenly reactivated Crabmeat.
〜
"Struth!" grunted Lieutenant Urchino as he tried to rotate his heavily bandaged right shoulder.
Upon reflection, that was probably a bad idea. Still, it was good to know those burns hadn't left him completely one-armed. Probably useful for Jian to know, too, whatever it was she needed help with. She'd been weirdly cagey on that phone call just now.
That bloody Intelligence Wing training's rubbing off on her, the burly dingo thought to himself. What was it about those sneaky buggers?
He hadn't even tried to ask why she was calling from Colonel Sleet's office. Probably stood more chance of getting a date with the tigress than a straight answer.
Pushing up his purple wraparound shades to rub his green eyes, Urchino grinned to himself. At least the corporal couldn't rib him about wearing sunglasses at night. Rank had its advantages.
The elevator doors duly opened, and Urchino trod the familiar path to Sleet's office. Without even thinking to knock — as Sleet's adjutant, the dingo spent more time in this office than his own quarters — he opened the door.
"Bloody hell!" he blurted upon seeing the state of the door to Sleet's inner office.
He scanned the outer office, finding Jian slumped just inside the door. Her hands were pressed against her belly, holding her red bandana over a wound of some sort. The white fur between the bandana and waistband of her cargo pants was streaked with blood.
"Jian!"
Urchino ripped off his shades as he dropped to his knees beside her.
"What happened, girl?!"
"That bastard," she said weakly, letting the dingo's hands replace her own over the bandana, "He was faking."
〜
"Oof. He'll feel that one," remarked Sonar, cringing as she and Whisper watched Metal Knuckles strike Emerl with a haymaker. The Gizoid went flying through a wall.
Aboard the Babylon Guardian, Jet felt the full force of the blow via his haptic suit's sensory feedback loop. He stumbled backwards.
"Can't you…turn that down?" he wheezed, massaging his abdomen through the skintight suit.
"It doesn't have that functionality," replied Wave patiently from behind her banks of monitors. She'd answered variations of that same question three times already.
Down at street-level, Tekno joined Sonar and Whisper on the edge of the rooftop where they'd landed the hoverbikes.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" she asked.
"Only if you've got a very special arrow in that quiver," said Sonar, putting her arm around the twelve-year-old.
"I wish I did," said Tekno, cozying up to the fennec.
Whisper brandished her hard-light rifle. Through her scope, she watched Emerl clamber out of the hole in the wall over a pile of bricks. For all the punishment it was taking, the Gizoid remained unscathed. For its part, Metal Knuckles' had only sustained a smattering of dents.
"This could go on forever," she said, lowering her weapon.
"Don't say that," mumbled Tekno. "That's a Gizoid you're talking about."
As if responding to the canary's vote of confidence, Emerl rushed at Metal Knuckles, engaging its ill-prepared adversary in a grapple. Wrapping its hands around the robotic echidna's fists, the Gizoid crushed them like soda cans.
"Careful!" Wave piped up, watching a feed relayed from Whisper's mask. "We want him intact, remember?"
"What…ever," grunted Jet, thrusting his head forward.
Tekno whooped under her breath as Emerl headbutted Metal Knuckles, bending its nasal spike.
"Told you," she said triumphantly, shooting a glance at Whisper. The wolf ignored her.
Down on the street, there was a flash of aquamarine light as Metal Knuckles blew Emerl back through the hole in the wall with its chest laser.
"Told me what?" said Whisper, looking at Tekno. The crestfallen preteen curled her beak.
"Be nice," whispered Sonar, nudging the wolf as softly as she could.
Just then, the teal fennec's ears erected as they heard an ululation somewhere in the distance. Hearing another, she cocked her head to the left.
"Seriously?" she murmured.
Whisper promptly pointed her hard-light rifle in the direction Sonar was looking. Through her scope, she saw Infinite flying their way, hunched over the handlebars of his hoverbike.
"Seriously," said the wolf. Behind her mask, she smiled.
"What's he doing?" Tekno piped up, drawing back the feathery bangs covering her left eye.
Sonar wasn't sure what to say. The onrushing jackal sure seemed to be on a collision course with Metal Knuckles.
"He's going to crash!" the canary squeaked, tugging at the hem of the fennec's pink tanktop. "Can't you stop him?"
Gnawing her lower lip, Sonar pressed Tekno's face against her hip, lest the fretful kid be right. She glanced across at Whisper, who was still watching through her scope.
"Pull up, you mad dog," the fennec hissed under her breath. "Pull up!"
Eventually, he did, with mere centimeters to spare between the hoverbike and road. Skimming across the potholed asphalt, Infinite beheaded Metal Knuckles with a single clean stroke of his ruby cutlass.
"Bastard!" squawked Wave, jumping out of her chair aboard the airship.
"What?" groaned Jet, still on the floor where the pain of the hard-light blast had put him.
"Your precious bodyguard just fucked up this whole thing is what!" the swallow fumed, ripping off her headset.
Hearing footsteps, Jet removed his VR goggles in time to see Wave storm past him on her way out the cabin.
Six thousand feet below, Sonar found herself fighting the impulse to pick Tekno up and swing her around in glee. She settled for resting her hands on the canary's shoulders (artificially broadened by her purple blazer) as they watched Infinite pick up Metal Knuckles' severed head by a rigid dreadlock.
"C'mon," said the fennec, "Let's go find out where the hell he's been."
The jackal seemed to be locked in a staring contest with the decapitated robot as the two hoverbikes landed beside him.
"Wave's going to be pissed as hell at you," remarked Sonar.
"Too bad, Sonny," said Infinite. "She doesn't pay us."
"Where's Mighty?" asked Tekno.
"Where he belongs, for all I care. Lover boy turned on me."
"Really?" said Sonar. "When? How?"
"Doesn't matter," said the jackal. "Anyway, screw that guy. We've got bigger problems."
"How big?" asked the fennec.
"Maw's gone back to his roots."
Whisper suddenly lifted her mask. Her blue eyes were open wide.
"Where is he?" she asked levelly.
"First things first, Whisp," said Infinite, sheathing his sword. "We're gonna need some bigger guns."