Well hello and welcome to my first fanfic in about (checks clock) 8 years...wow. Anyways I decided to try writing a little this winter break after I got hooked by Toxikku's assistant Tails AU. I can't promise a consistent release schedule, I'm just happy to have written something. A shout out to Spaz411 who is always supportive of my efforts to actually write something. Thanks Spaz. I hope you enjoy and please leave a comment, the odds of this getting continued increase dramatically if people comment. Like seriously. Also if you notice any errors or have questions/recommendations fire away in the comments. I expect to be rusty in the writing department.
I own nothing Sega related.
/
It was Sunday and that meant one thing and exactly one thing of importance for the twin tailed fox now that the night had started to fall. Taco night. Miles Prower dashed through the hall of the facility, a grin on his face as he stopped in front of the sliding door, a quick pat down to keep his hair in check before stepping inside. The sterile white of the room was offset by the red highlights and a few pieces of dark wood (or more likely synth-wood) that made the room cozy or at the very least familiar to the fox. Already the smell of frying beef and the clatter of the preferred mechanical assistant of the Dr. filled the kitchen as Miles hopped up onto a stool and took a moment to watch the two work. Cubot and Orbot were older models, lacking in a lot of the ability and raw fire power of there later counterparts but made up for it in versatility, namely in that there V.I often blurred the line with true intelligence. Though Dr. Robotnik had refuted his claims that they were true A.I it wouldn't be the first time one of his projects proved smarter than intended.
"Heya Q. Hey Or, how's dinner coming?" Miles asked as he fished his tablet from the messenger bag he often carried and rapidly flicked through some of the designs he'd been working on. Engine blueprints, energy diagrams and the Eggman industries logo flashing onto the smooth glass.
"Five minutes until plating Miles. Has your day been productive?" Orbot intoned.
"Heh, you could say that! Finally worked out some kinks with the Mk4 engine for the Egg Mobile. Should give it the boost the Doc needs with next weeks big project. Still sore I can't join in." His twin tails drooped with the statement, he'd presented a rational, logical argument but the Dr had pretty much thrown that by the wayside citing how he needed Miles back at base monitoring comm channels.
"Don't fret Miles, I'm certain the Dr just wanted you kept away from any collateral damage." Cubot comforted with a quick pat the shoulder. Tails let a small smile play across his face, it was a nice thought but Miles knew he was mostly just an assistant Robotnik had taken in. Sure, he had a room and more friends in Cubot and Orbot than he'd ever had back on West Side island, but he was just his assistant, someone to bounce ideas off of mostly. Regardless, he took his position as Robotnik's assistant seriously and went back to review his designs for a new shock cannon when the "Shhhdd" of the sliding door announced the Dr's arrival.
"Good evening Miles." The doctor intoned with a brusque nod, his moustache bouncing with each step and his piercing eyes quickly scanning the room as if suspecting a surprise attack.
"Evening Dr Robotnik! How are the new badniks coming?" Tails had seen the schematics for the newest model and they were finicky, not what Miles would have gone with but packed a larger punch than any of the older models. Of course the tradeoff was that the final details couldn't be automated just yet so the Doc had to put the finishing touches on the machines personally.
"Ah, hard but happy work. The energy conservation will be well worth the time. It had better." Robotnik took a seat next to Miles at the counter as he observed his creations prepare dinner, a small frown forming on his face as he watched. "Cubot! Your right actuator is stiff why haven't you reported for maintenance!" The sudden shout causing Miles to flinch. Taking a moment to watch and after a moment he noticed the minute resistance in the robots right arm. He hadn't noticed it at all, just another reason he was the assistant and Robotnik was the boss he grumpily assessed.
"Apologies Dr, but my directives indicated providing food for Miles took priority. I was planning to report following dinner. Should I reorder my directives?" The Dr gave a small hmph before responding.
"Keep the current order and report immediately following dinner. And add a new nightly self diagnostic" He tacked on almost as an afterthought. Miles gave Dr Robotnik a questioning glance that was completely ignored as he stared straight ahead, seemingly deliberately ignoring the fox. Miles felt a little awkward by that bit of info and squared it away for later thought before working up some nerves with an awkward cough into his gloved hand.
"Ahem, Dr Robotnik I have a new schematic I was hoping you could take a look at. Just some scratch work really heh heh." Miles handed over his tablet as Robotniks eyes devoured the screen and a slow smile filled the mustachioed face.
"Hohoho now this is interesting! Yes, yes! Artful as always Miles! A few problems to iron out of course but this 'shock cannon' will be a lovely addition to the arsenal. Now, no more business until after the meal. We can discuss it more then." Miles let a smile slip at the praise and hungrily tore into the tacos and was met by equal gusto from the doctor. The meal passed in silence each eager to finish quickly and get back to work.
Within a few minutes the food had been devoured and Orbot took to scrubbing them clean while Miles and the Dr moved to the sofa to continue the earlier discussion. Less than twenty minutes after that and they'd needed to have Orbot bring in a whiteboard and rapidly turned to a discussion on coolant systems for the new shock cannon. It was hours before either of them realized the time, Cubot having completed his maintenance and requested Miles should rest.
"Come on Cubot, were in the middle of a brainstorming session. Science never sleeps!" Miles declared with a thunderous aplomb and earned a small chuckle from the doctor before he responded.
"Miles rest will keep you at optimal performance. I won't have anything less from my assistant so you are dismissed" Miles all but deflated at that before giving a somber nod and a muttered goodnight to the doctor before departing. He'd argue some nights but it rarely ever did any good, only a about a 5% success rate if he had to guess. Still, tomorrow would be busy, the final touches needed to be put in place for the big project, the last of the equipment from the Scrap Brain zone should be arriving early morning. Miles missed the full lab back home but still the prefab was nice. Egg-post 1 as he had taken to calling it was small, subterranean but still cozy. It was a departure from a lot of Robotniks older labs which Miles had admitted once gave him the creeps. Only six more days now and then everything would start to change.
/
Miles was running, shadows shouting, crawling and whispering words barely audible. "weak", "coward", "freak" and so he ran. He ran until the colors blurred together, until his heart pounded like war drums on the horizon "badump" "badump" in staccato rhythm. He didn't cry, wouldn't, that just made it worse, it always did. He didn't know how long he ran, just that his lungs burned and screamed for him to stop but he wouldn't, couldn't. Then finally a hand, reaching out of the darkness, and a face, red goggles reflecting his own terror, Miles took it and the darkness faded. Memories flashed by in waves, flying away from that horrid island, being shown the first room that had ever belonged to him. Miles woke with a mix of unease and gratitude, deep gratitude for the man who had seen something special in him where everyone else only saw a freak. It took a moment to collect himself, after all he had an important job to do.
The clock lit the room in faint red, blaring out its hour of six am. It was as good a time as any and so Miles launched into a quick morning exercise routine. The Dr may have neglected his health on a regular basis, but he knew the importance of being able to make a quick exit. It was nothing to strenuous, but in about a half hour sweat was matting down his fur. A quick pop into the attached washroom and he was ready to start his day pulling on the jacket lab coat combo styled on the Dr's own. It had been a gift from him and he had made an idiot of himself and cried when he first got, it was the first gift he'd ever received. The doc had been kind enough to not draw attention to it at least.
With his morning routine mostly behind him Miles returned to the kitchen portion of the outpost for a quick breakfast. The two robots greeted him as they did every morning.
"Good morning Miles! What would you like this morning?" Cubot questioned. Miles gave it a moments thought before settling on cereal.
"Cereal please Cubot. Some of the good stuff!" Cubot seemed to chuff as he moved his hand away from the box labelled 'Bran supplement 37' and instead settled on one of the smaller containers. The colorful pebbles clinked into the bowl and was filled with milk (or its next closest substitute) as Miles hungrily wolfed down the cereal. He tried to split his focus between eating and reading reports on the latest shipment from the Scrap Brain zone. After finishing he made to go check on the shipment and look for damage, the last few had some minor damage that needed to be repaired and if he could take care of it before it reached Robotnik that would help him out.
Entering the lift that went to the surface he was surprised to see the Dr already there cataloguing. Miles ears lowered as his plan to help out all but evaporated. Still, he'd help however he could because that's what a good assistant did.
"Morning Dr Robotnik! What do you need?" Robotnik jerked seemingly startled before smoothing down his moustache and regaining his confident air.
"Ah Miles, good morning. I was sorting through some older model equipment. No need to trouble yourself. Why don't you update the trajectories for the Buzzbombers. Yes, they could certainly use an update." Miles frowned at that. He knew for a fact the Dr had updated them only a few days back.
"Uhh Doc, didn't you just update them? I can help out here if you need me to carry or help sort anything." The frown that creased Robotniks features was one that Miles wasn't used to seeing. It wasn't frustration, or annoyance and Robotniks words echoed the unpleasant sentiment of his expression.
"Miles this is delicate work. Return to one of the labs or find something useful to do!" The words had Miles take a step back and give a sharp nod before taking off, hurt clear in his eyes. The doctor maintained his scowl until Miles had rounded a corner and only after a moment more allowed it to fall. The large man rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a sigh as he once more glanced at the contents of the latest shipment. He had mulled over for days what to do with it. After all it wouldn't hurt him to have it gather dust in storage. Logically it made sense to keep it. The thought of Miles coming across it and asking questions filled him with an unfamiliar sentiment that loathe as he was to admit had become more common these last few years. Guilt. With a mighty harrumph he pulled out his communicator speaking rapidly into it.
"Orbot get down to the receiving bay and dispose of any marked crates immediately!" The doctor all but roared a flurry of clatters sounding from the other end of the receiver. The doctor let out another deep breath. He'd upset Miles, and it shouldn't matter to him in the slightest. He was an assistant and nothing more. Kept around purely for his aptitude for machines and no other reasons, yup no other reasons. Certainly not because for the first time in his life Robotnik had someone who understood the passion to create, the joy of oil under the fingernails and light nights caught in a flurry of creation, nope certainly not that. He was fine alone, better off even. With a snarl the doctor stopped away from the receiving bay, the single marked crate falling into into shadow as the automatic lights powered down. The manifest left abandoned on a crate reading 'Prototype roboticizer'. Yes, the doctor thought, I'll just have to make do without it.