A Short Respite
Mobius: The Second Saga
by Tergonaut
Sonic the Hedgehog and all other related characters and themes are © SEGA and DiC, Mobius: The Second Saga and all related characters and themes are © of Tergonaut.
Setting: The morning after Another Strike.
* * *
Gyro, Digger and Claire clumsily made their way into the Mess Hall. It was already half-empty as many Rowdies had finished their breakfasts and were going about their duties around Freehome so there were plenty of empty seats for the three of them to choose from.
But they didn't care at that moment. They got their breakfast from the counter then sat in the nearest seats. Gyro's eyes were hidden behind his wraps but they were mostly closed and had trouble adjusting to the light. Digger gave everyone in the room an even grumpier glare than he usually did and many decided to finish breakfast a little early to avoid his wrath. Claire's hair was mussed up and she wished she had been able to summon up the energy to care.
"Okay," started Gyro, "where's Rad? Didn't he even get up for breakfast?"
Digger mumbled, "He said something about ripping the arms off of anybody who tried to wake him up. Might be a good idea to let him sleep in a bit." The mole subsequently filled his mouth with eggs, trying to avoid conversation which required too much energy.
Claire looked around the room. "There's Bandit over there. Hey, Bandit!"
The raccoon was sitting at the further end of the table talking to a young female mouse with shiny brown eyes. It appeared that he had gotten adequate sleep, as his behavior indicated that he quite comfortable in the situation he was in. But when he heard his name called he said a polite farewell to the mouse and came over to sit with his friends.
"So how'd it go?"
Gyro spoke up first. "The mission went okay. We went in there, blew some stuff up and then got back for an hour's sleep before right now."
Bandit raised his eyebrows. "Sounds tough. Good thing everybody got back safe. By the way," he asked as he looked around the room, "where's Rad?"
Digger still had his mouth full of eggs and refused to answer the question again so Claire just repeated what he had said before. Bandit's eyebrows lowered. "Hey, at least you don't have to go out on another mission in a while. The other squads should be trained in time for the next one and you guys deserve a break."
A blipping sound and a flash of light later, Nicole was sitting next to Bandit just as if she had been there the whole time. "Good morning, everyone. How was breakfast?"
She looked around at the faces of the Rowdies and frowned. "Gyro, Digger, Claire, you look exhausted!"
"Glad that you saw that one straight off," muttered Digger, who had finally swallowed. "Now how about a break? We've been working practically nonstop ever since we got here and we're going to bust if we don't get a little free time."
Nicole's face returned to a neutral expression. "So I see. Well, you did an excellent job last night. There aren't any major operations for any of you to worry about so you should probably take the day off. It would be good to keep our best squad from burning out." She looked at the clock on the cafeteria wall. "I must be going. I hope you will enjoy this free time because it is not likely to happen very often, especially in the days to come."
She blipped out and the Rowdies looked at each other. Claire, Digger, and Gyro immediately began stuffing their faces at top speed and Bandit quietly tried to ignore their poor manners as he asked, "So you're all going back to sleep, then?"
Claire stood up, grabbed her tray and went over to the disposer. She slipped it into the slot where the power of the disposer would reduce the tray to its basic components, ready to reassemble them at a later date. "Sleep," was all she said and she was followed out of the Mess Hall by Gyro and Digger, all three of them ready to take a break in their beds.
Bandit blinked and put a piece of pancake in his mouth. "Maybe I can catch up to Florissa after this," he said through the pancake. He finished it up and headed out the double doors.
* * *
"Professor, wake-up call."
Marty Kreaton sat straight up in bed, alert but not alarmed. "Thank you, Winona. Status?"
"After last night's battle at the Wolf Den, rebel activity dropped off by thirty-two percent. It is assumed that the reason for this is celebration of the victory."
Kreaton smiled. He had learned much from that encounter, more than the Rowdies could know. "Winona, assemble a breakfast for me. It should consist of grape juice, pancakes, sunny-side-up eggs, and well-done bacon, all proportioned to match my physiology for one-third of my daily nutritional requirements. Oh, and ready the direct feed controller. I want to do some exploring today."
"Affirmative, Professor."
The feminine voice droned away and Kreaton chuckled to himself. This "Freehome" that the Rowdies had referred to was obviously their equivalent to what Knothole was during the Great Struggle: a secret base of operations. Logic dictated that the secret base was located somewhere in the Great Forest since it still held many secrets as its own. Then there was the possibility of an underground base but that too would be in the vicinity of the Great Forest. The Great Forest was close to Mobotropolis, making it a good place to send strike teams from while maintaining secrecy that was better than any automated defense system.
But Kreaton was sending teams in to scour the Great Forest and there were a few squads that were sent to the Great Jungle despite the metal-vaporizing plants there. All of the exploration squads consisted of Strikerbots and Spy-Eyes and any information he could gain was more valuable than such expendable units.
He got up and stretched out and then changed into his white labcoat, with loafers and pants supplementing the image that he had made for himself. He reached the command center and saw to his pleasure that both the remote control device and his breakfast were ready at his command chair. Settling himself down into the chair he scanned the various screens as he ate his morning nourishment. Everything seemed quiet. No major rebel activity. It would be a good time to use the direct feed controller to temporarily inhabit a Spy-Eye to assist in the search.
The main reason that the Freedom Fighters succeeded during the Great Struggle was because Knothole was such a carefully-kept secret. But the Freedom Fighters didn't fight as an organized force until a few years later when Sonic and the other heroes of the Great Struggle became old enough to fight. Thus Robotnik was caught off-guard and the Freedom Fighters had gained enough experience by that time to maintain the secrecy of their home.
But the Rowdies did not make that same choice. They didn't have the extensive experience of the Freedom Fighters and they had already made several mistakes. Kreaton only had to find out where their secret base was and he would be able to crush the pitiful resistance of the Rowdies.
He took a look over at the black crate before finishing his breakfast and activating the controller. Perhaps the Rowdies were already beaten.
* * *
Tracy had finished her own breakfast at a leisurely pace and now she was heading to the hospital facility to talk to her new friend Azrael. She had learned about the previous night's success from the computer terminal in her room, which was automatically updated with important news of the war. Unfortunately Azrael was still in the medical facility because she had not fully healed and she did not have access to the same resources that Tracy had, but the young rabbit was more than happy to have a chat with the Wolf Pack runner.
She entered the low building and registered at the front desk where a Nicole hologram dressed in surgical white was the receptionist. Nicole led her to the room and then left her there. Tracy knocked on the door.
Azrael's voice was somewhat accusing. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Tracy!"
The tone in the wolf's voice changed from suspicious to friendly. "Come in then!"
Tracy entered the room and closed the door behind her. She saw Azrael still in her bed but looking dignified despite the fact that she was wearing the ridiculous hospital gown that seemed to be the only flaw in the medical facility's services. The grey wolf's eyes and upper head were covered with bandages, making it impossible for her to see anything.
Even so, Azrael's head turned toward the sound of Tracy's footsteps. "What news do you bring? I fear the doctor is not the best of company and I crave conversation!"
Tracy sat down in the chair near the bed and leaned forward conspiratorially. "The mission was a success! The Wolf Den has been evacuated and everyone's been safely transported to Freehome!"
Azrael sat up smiling. "That is good. So Rad led the assault?"
Tracy nodded, then realized that she had forgotten about Azrael's eyes. It seemed so hard to remember that. "Yes. He and three others went and hit the bad guys in the Salamander tanks!"
Azrael was about to say something in reply but a knock at the door stopped her short. "Excuse me, I've come with good news!"
Tracy recognized the voice as that of the administrating Dr. Reiner. Azrael knew it, too and said (with not a certain amount of distaste in her inflection), "Come in."
Dr. Reiner came in, looking slightly superior as always. He walked over to the side of the bed and pulled out a pair of scissors. "I am quite happy to announce that the bandages can come off now! Tracy, would you please turn down the lights? Her eyes are going to be sensitive at first."
Tracy walked over to the switch and she toned down the lights until the room was dim. Walking back to the doctor's side she saw that he was snipping off the bandages in a precise manner so as not to snip anything else off in the process.
"There!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled off the last bandage and threw it into the nearby trash can. "I'm actually amazed that you healed so quickly but perhaps living with the Wolf Pack has some advantage in that respect."
Azrael rubbed her eyes free of the crud that had accumulated on the edges of her eyelids and then she opened her eyes. Tracy gave a little wave, glad that Azrael was free of the bandages. It would take a little while for the fur that had been under the bandages to return to a normal state but its current matted state did not mar Azrael's eyes by one iota. They were wild eyes, the eyes of a hunter.
Dr. Reiner started toward the door. "You are free to leave the hospital now. Your residence has been secured and additional information can be provided at any of the access terminals within Freehome. Nicole will want to speak to you about your training so that you can join the ranks."
Azrael slid out of the bed and stood on her feet. "Wait, Doctor."
The eagle looked back at her with a questioning eyebrow raised.
The wolf's hands clasped together and she bowed respectfully to him. "Thank you."
Dr. Reiner's eyebrow went down. He was silent for a few moments, and then he turned toward the door. Just at the edge of her hearing Tracy heard a grumbling "You're welcome" as the door closed.
Tracy went to the door herself. "You'll want to change out of that ridiculous gown. Your other clothes should be in the dresser over there. Once you're done I can show you around Freehome."
Azrael stepped over to the dresser as the door closed again. Looking into the mirror she said sincerely, "It is good to see again."
* * *
Bandit looked to the left and then to the right. The crowd of Mobians going about their business between the various residences was busier than it had ever been due to the newly-arrived Wolf Pack. While there was room in Freehome for them all they had to be educated in how Freehome operated and they had to be integrated into the military structure. Many of the Wolf Pack's members had some military experience and their natural lifestyle made them more physically fit than the average Mobian.
Bandit sighed. "There's no way that I'll be able to find Florissa now. And I didn't even get her residence number..."
The raccoon walked off toward his own home wondering if he was ever going to see Florissa again. But after passing a few of the young female wolves that had recently come in he had forgotten all about Florissa, so there was no sadness in his heart.
He returned to his residence a while later, shucked off his boots and decided to see what the computer system offered. Sitting down in front of his personal terminal he placed his hand on the screen when it asked for identification, after which he made a profile for himself (he chose the online name of Bandit, of course) and then he was led to the main screen which had a variety of options to choose from. History, games, and profiles, among other things. Not too exciting to him.
But then he saw a flashing red button marked "NEW!" His curiosity was piqued and when he clicked onto it he was led to a screen with several windows of constantly-updated material. Some of them were pages for the different squads. Bandit saw the Alley Cat page and was glad to see that he was on the roster. He saw little profiles of each of his friends and he also saw his own. The profiles were short in background information but at least they got Bandit's name right.
He got out of the Alley Cat page and went to see what the other pages were like. There were five squads in all, the Alley Cats included. The other squads were the Chained Furies, the Vertigo Enhancers, the Rapid Scorchers and the Black Wraiths.
The raccoon knew about the Black Wraiths or at least enough to get a general idea of them. The five members were all the sons or daughters of disfranchised nobles and they were good, real good. Only the Alley Cats held a better score than they and that was mainly because they had been here longer. The page provided an image of each of the members but Bandit skipped over to the design for their Salamanders. They had painted their tanks black (duh) with a skull motif on the cockpit. The small thumbnail pictures of each of the members showed that they all had the same smug look that all rich spoiled people seemed to have plastered on their faces. Bandit had a personal dislike to it, as did his friends. It seemed clear that the Black Wraiths were going to be the rivals of the Alley Cats.
The Chained Furies and Rapid Scorchers were the squads with the lowest scores and Bandit didn't know about them at all. But the Vertigo Enhancers were already legendary for implementing unorthodox strategies with a coordination that seemed quite eerie. While the Alley Cats and Black Wraiths held overall top scores the Vertigo Enhancers had the highest teamwork rating.
Bandit pondered about the different squads for a little while. It seemed like they were all finally ready to see live action but what was going to happen? Would they lose a squad? And what would be the impact if one of the squads was destroyed?
He shook his head. "Thinking too hard again, Bandit? These are whacked times indeed. Let's slide over to that chat room over there..."
After signing up he started a conversation with some of the people there. Maybe he could find an online chick.
* * *
"...And here are the FreeSims. This is where anybody, even noncombatants, can go to enjoy games."
Nicole had led Azrael and Tracy around Freehome and they ended the tour at the Simulator Area. She had taken them on the tour herself when she saw that Azrael was well and while they walked from place to place Nicole asked her questions about her life in the Wolf Pack. But now the tour was over and Nicole looked like she was ready to get down to business.
"Azrael," she began, "I'd like you to go into FreeSim Three. I think that it's time for a little test."
Not hesitating for a second, Azrael walked over to the door of the clear-bubbled room number three. She pressed her hand on the panel next to it and the door opened after the system had verified her identity. She walked into the middle of the clear bubble and Tracy and Nicole turned their attention to a viewscreen that was placed next to the door. The viewscreen allowed people outside of the dome to see through the player's eyes.
Nicole nodded. "Good. Now I'll start up the program. You'll be outfitted in artillery armor. Your objective will be to destroy the immobile targets at different ranges. Then there will be a series of mobile targets. Are you ready?"
"Yes, I am ready," came the filtered voice of Azrael, and suddenly the viewscreen came to life with a rich, green field, with the Great Forest on one side and Mobotropolis on the other. Azrael's view went down as she looked at herself in the exoskeleton of artillery armor. The armor's right arm consisted mostly of a huge gun, a weapon meant to be used accurately for mass devastation. The rest of the armor was mostly composed of micromotors designed to allow her to carry the gun and the ammunition that went with it. There were a few plates of armor that covered the major sections of her body but the armor was also designed to be portable.
The forms of Spy-Eyes became visible as the view went up. They flew into positions at a set distance apart in a straight line away from Azrael.
"You may fire at will," Nicole intoned.
Azrael looked at the nearest Spy-Eye and merely pointed the gun and fired, not bothering to check the distance with the enhancing instruments that the helmet could provide. The shot caught the Spy-Eye straight on and destroyed it. Then Azrael began firing at each one in turn, only resorting to the rangefinder when the distance was quite large.
Nicole hmmed to herself while Tracy cheered Azrael on. The Wolf Pack runner was doing impeccably. The Spy-Eyes soon fell prey to her excellent aim.
"Now Azrael, time for moving targets. Are you ready?"
"Aye!"
The remains of the Spy-Eyes disappeared and at their positions Strikerbots took their place. They began moving from side-to-side, forward and backward, and at odd angles, making each Strikerbot a challenge.
Azrael wasted no time. She raised her gun-arm and blasted the first three without fail. The fourth one was trickier and Azrael had to fire another shot to destroy it. The rest fell quickly.
"Now Azrael, targets that fire back! You have almost no cover so you'll have to hit them straight on. Ready?"
"Bring them on!"
A line of Strikerbots came into being and they advanced forward with their arms up and their weapons firing. Azrael moved with amazing agility in the armor and dodged several shots with one move. Then she rolled and came to her feet with her gun shooting, hitting one in the middle with a shell. The explosion took out three of them and she continued firing at groups of them until she ran out of ammunition. There was one last Strikerbot left which had guessed correctly that her ammo was gone and it advanced forward slowly, pointing its wrist blaster straight at her head. For a few seconds everything seemed to hold its breath.
Then the Strikerbot fired and the viewscreen went red.
But then the screen went to a third-person view and it showed Azrael rolling under the beam and coming up with her gun arm, slamming it right through its torso with a silence-breaking crunch.
"Yes! She did it! Yes! Woo-hoo!" Tracy shouted as Nicole smiled.
The viewscreen winked out and Azrael came out of the simulator. "I trust that your test was well-met?"
"Indeed it was. You told me a lot about your practice with the bow and arrow and I immediately thought that you would be perfect for the artillery division. But you also had to be willing to take orders and when you ran out of ammo you had to think fast. Would you like to join the Rowdy Artillery Division?"
"With pleasure. I owe Kreaton for what he tried at the Wolf Den, and for what he has done to all free Mobians."
Nicole put her hand on the wolf's shoulder, not a mean feat when you considered that Nicole's form was around four feet in height while Azrael was a good foot taller. "We all do, Azrael, but I think we should go over to introduce you to the rest of Artillery. You might even earn yourself a position in the ranks before you begin your official training."
Azrael and Nicole walked out of the simulator building with Tracy tagging along just behind them. The young rabbit felt that she was being left out and decided to go and find something else to do. She headed toward Claire's residence, hoping to talk to the skunk about what had been happening recently.
* * *
However she never got there because she got delayed by a group of children that needed one more person to play Tug-of-War with them. And then after that they played Tag and Hide-and-Seek and then Capture the Flag. Before she knew it Tracy was saying good night to her new friends as they were brought back to their homes by their parents or guardians. The lights that were Freehome's equivalent of the sun became dimmer, reflecting that the time for sleep was nigh, and she suppressed a yawn as she realized that it was getting late.
"Feels like it's past my bedtime," she mused aloud. She began heading toward her own residence, intent on having a good night's rest.
As she walked through the pathways of Freehome she noticed for the first time how much everything changed once the lights had dimmed and nighttime began. The children were all in their homes and their places on the streets had been taken by the nocturnal residents of Freehome.
The nightlife was different from the daily one that Tracy had gotten used to. She saw teenagers heading toward the FreeSims for a quick round of Whack-the-'Bot, young adults walking by in couples and the occasional group of rebellious youths dressed in black.
Fortunately crime was something unheard of in Freehome mainly because Nicole made it clear early on to everyone that there was a powerful security system in place. When someone had gotten a little out-of-hand at a recent party, two holographic images of Nicole had appeared in authoritative uniforms and they had quietly escorted the person back to his residence. The last Tracy heard about it, he had described how he had been given a lecture in his quarters which made him shudder just to think about. He insisted that it wasn't a cruel punishment, however. He had only gotten what he had deserved.
But at the same time she couldn't help feeling a little watchful of the obvious deviants. She had lived in Mobotropolis long enough to know some of the things the dwellers of the night did for entertainment. And she was only glad to see her residence in sight for she had no desire to stay out any longer than she had to.
Quickly entering her personal piece of Freehome and closing the door behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. The night life was obviously not for her if she got paranoid just from walking down the street!
Kicking off her sneakers, she bounced onto her bed and laid herself out, enjoying the fresh air between her toes. She looked down at her feet and felt the familiar feeling that they were too large, and then she laughed at herself. "There's a war going on and I'm worried about my feet being too large? Get a grip, Trace."
She sat up and went to her personal computer console. She hadn't used it much since she had been so busy with acclimating herself with Freehome's environment and now she was ready to go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day with getting acquainted with the online world of the Freehome Intercommunications Network, called FIN for short.
Slipping out of her clothes and into her pajamas, she slid under the covers and turned out the lights. There was so much to do, so much to do...
* * *
Kreaton sat in silent thought as the direct feed controller was hoisted away on its mechanical arm. He had not seen any direct evidence that the Great Forest was the hideout of the Rowdies and yet he knew that it had to be there. If that Spy-Eye hadn't been destroyed after last night's battle it could have sneaked along with the Rowdies and they could have led him to their sanctuary.
But it was a whole day too late to dwell on that. He would just have to make sure not to make the same mistake twice.
At least the day had not been a total waste. Rebel activity was down for the time being and that meant his factories had that many more hours to produce the war machines for his conquest of Mobius. Every second that the Rowdies celebrated was another second for his robotic armies to advance across the globe securing his control and ensuring his victory.
He turned once again to the black crate with his hands locked underneath his chin. "What is your secret, my friend? Why did Robotnik hide you away, why did he lock you in that impenetrable box?"
Getting up and walking over to it he once again looked it over at a closer angle. The metal was smooth and cold, giving no indication of what was inside whatsoever. The small access panel, still active despite the century it had survived, beeped quietly as if not wanting to attract attention to itself.
Kreaton stretched out his fingers to the keypad but hesitated. Trying random sequences of letters and numbers would not open this crate. He was sure that Robotnik had a specific phrase as the password. But what could it possibly be...?
The answer came in a flash of inspiration that made him slightly giddy. Of course! It was the same phrase that had been documented several times over in every reference to Robotnik. His hatred of Sonic was well-known and Kreaton chastised himself for not thinking of it earlier.
His fingers deftly entered the phrase onto the keypad:
I HATE THAT HEDGEHOG
Releasing a loud wailing sound, the crate began opening up, the top flipping open, and then the four sides began folding out. He stepped back as the black crate was finally revealing the contents that had been hidden there ever since the Great Struggle.
The relative darkness of his command center made the looming figure seem godlike. The crimson and jet paint of its exterior had worn away only slightly with age and it only gave its appearance the much more of a terrifying impact. Four spidery legs kept the mass of metal from tipping over and two black crystalline fixtures glinted as they scanned Kreaton.
Kreaton's first emotion was fear, but it quickly turned into mad glee. His chuckling laughter filled the command center as he analyzed the implications of the figure that gazed at him with cold precision.