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Inescapable Past, Act 27: Chaotix In Motion

"Do you really gotta go already, Papa Vector?" sniffled Charmy.

"Afraid so, little guy," said Vector, dabbing at the hovering bee's eyes with the tip of his plaid green necktie.

According to his original itinerary, the two of them should have been eating lunch with Tails right now, in a pizzeria somewhere in Soleanna's Castle Town district. Instead, they were on the tarmac of the Solaris Institute's private aerodrome, under the watchful eye of Sister Cora.

At some point in his morning classes, Tails had changed his mind about when he would fly Vector back up to Station Square. The fox's part-time faculty status apparently entitled him to cut class on occasionally, technically for research purposes.

Vector didn't quite see how giving him a ride counted as 'research', but then, he got the feeling the Institute guys were prepared to let Tails get away with just about anything. So long as he wore that gaudy uniform, it was priceless publicity for them, wherever he went. They were just happy to have him.

Charmy landed on Vector's shoulder as they watched the aerodrome's hangar expectantly. Tails hadn't said what they'd be flying in. Presumably a Tornado, unless he had some experimental jalopy in there he'd been waiting to test-fly with a passenger aboard.

The crocodile grimaced at the thought.

"Wha?! That ain't the Tornado!" blurted Charmy.

He wasn't wrong. The aircraft taxiing out of the hangar wasn't a red biplane, nor a purple one. It wasn't the Cyclone, either. It was a pearl-white business-jet with the golden crest of Soleanna's royal family emblazoned on the fuselage and tailfin.

"Miles Prower!" Sister Cora yelled. "Stop that jet this instant!"

The gelada's turquoise habit billowed in the wind as she went marching across the tarmac. Through the cockpit's windshield, Vector could see the ten-year-old gesturing frantically for the nun to back off. When she didn't, the fox hit the brakes.

"Sister Cora, you could've got hurt!" shouted Tails, sticking his head out the cockpit's window.

"As could you, young man!" the gelada countered, standing in front of the jet's nosecone, "What in Solaris's name do you think you're doing in that plane?"

The fox looked flummoxed, then pulled his head back inside the plane. Seeing the jet's airstairs unfurl, Vector started across the tarmac with Charmy still perched on his shoulder.

"What's the problem, Sister Cora?" asked Tails earnestly, hoping down onto the runway. He was wearing a black pilot's cap in addition to his school uniform.

"The problem, Miles, is you taking Her Highness's official plane for a joyride," said the nun, "Now take that thing off."

Tails winced as the gelada whipped the cap off his head.

"But Elise said I could," he whined, producing a cellphone from within his vermilion blazer, "See."

He held the device up as high as he could for Cora's persual. Onscreen, there was a text message:

Sure, knock yourself out! (not literally lol) -E x

Below it, there was a selfie a female ibex had taken with a quartet of power-posing kindergarteners in red plaid jumper-dresses. The ibex bore a striking resemblance to a certain Soleannese princess.

"Of course you would have Her Highness's phone number," murmured Sister Cora.

The chastened nun slowly replaced the pilot's cap on the fox's head.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Miles," she said, pinching his fluffy white cheek.

Tails smiled bashfully. He still wasn't sure about the whole Solarian thing, but forgiveness had always come easy to him.

"Did you get grounded?" asked Charmy, flying off Vector's shoulder to stand beside Tails.

"No, he didn't," said Sister Cora, "Time to say your goodbyes, Charmy. You'll be due back in class soon."

The bee dropped his shoulders and looked to his dormmate.

"Can you take me out in that sweet ride sometime, Tails?" he asked.

"I'll…try and figure something out," said the fox, fist-bumping the six-year-old. It'd become a habit between them.

Forcing a smile, Charmy flew up to Vector's eye-level. "Papa Vector, tell Uncle Espio I said hi, okay?"

"You got it, little guy," said the crocodile, ruffling the yellow-and-black fuzz between the bee's antenna. It was odd seeing him without his flight helmet. Apparently the Solaris Institute's dress code didn't allow for aviation accessories.

After one last near-asphyxiating hug with Charmy, Vector followed Tails up the pearl-white business-jet's airstairs. Once aboard, his jaw slackened at the ornate crystal chandelier overhanging the main cabin. It was almost certainly too low for him to walk under.

"Tails, my man, this has to be the fanciest taxi on Mobius right now."

"Oh, yeah, about that," said the fox, "I'm not coming straight back from Station Square."

"You're not?"

"Nope. I'm gonna go catch Sonic's show at Echo Beach."

The crocodile grinned. "Attaboy."

Glancing around the cabin for where to sit, Vector curled his lip.

"Say, Captain Prower, you got room for a croc in that cockpit?"

"Oh, uh, sure," said Tails, "If you want."

Vector smiled at the fox's confusion. What Mobian in their right mind would choose a cockpit over an hour alone in a cabin quite literally fit for royalty?

A Mobian desperate for all the light-hearted company he could get. The crocodile could foresee good vibes being in short supply where he was headed.

"G'day, boys!" said Lieutenant Urchino, hauling open the cell door.

Looking inside at the chameleon and armadillo laid out on the cell's unpadded steel benches, the burly orange dingo scratched his furrowed brow.

"Struth…don't all move at once," he muttered, "Do you blokes want out of here or what?"

The chameleon's head shot up suddenly, gold eyes open wide. A second later, Urchino heard one of the troopers behind him cock their submachinegun. The dingo whirled and knocked the jumpy guard off his feet.

"Any more of that and that cell's yours," he growled.

Taking custody of the submachinegun, Urchino turned back to the cell. Both its occupants were now on their feet. The dingo made a show of reengaging the weapon's safety.

"That's more like it," he said, backing away from the door.

The chameleon and armadillo hesitated, each seemingly daring the other to make the first move. Eventually, the armadillo acquiesced, plodding out into the hallway. The chameleon followed a step behind.

Two waiting troopers pounced of them, covering their heads with cloth bags. Rather than trying to fight off their attackers, the ambushed duo frantically sought the other's hand to hold. The chameleon's right clasped the armadillo's left tight.

"Thanks for your cooperation," said Urchino, handcuffing their wrists together, "Now start walking."


Just in case it wasn't clear, Princess Elise is an anthropomorphic ibex in this fic.