PROLOGUE
They were placed in a room devoid of welcome.
With money on the brain stood the tallest of the trio. The prospect of payment always made him somewhat single-minded, so much so that he often overlooked more immediate issues of more important concern. Such duty, the duty of pessimism and caution, fell to the mid-sized member. At three feet and seven inches, he fit nicely between his colleagues in scale. He was gazing at his reflection in the chrome of the wall. So clinical. So cold. It hardly made him feel accepted... or relaxed.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he mused in his usual subdued tone.
“You gotta bad feelin’ about every job we take!” Size equalled rank, the tallest reminded in a loud voice. “C’mon, this is the government we’re talkin’ about! They always pay well, and we need the cash, okay? Lighten up!”
“Yeah!” a high-pitched exclamation pierced the conversation. “Cash! Yippee!”
Vermillion eyes wheeled on the shortest, and youngest, addition to the group as a wide row of razor-sharp teeth grinned agreement. “See?”
The mid-sized member fell silent. He would wait, as always, until his suspicion was proven accurate. For he was often dismissed as a contradiction: after all, a ninja relies on his instinct, whereas a detective must weigh all evidence fairly. Justly. Without bias. He sighed, electing to fold his arms and be patient. Too often did his dual passions clash. Perhaps this was merely one of those moments.
Or perhaps he was right to be worried.
Finally, the door slid open.
The trio turned collectively to meet Captain Stone. Here was a man dressed in authority. Somebody who would be writing their paycheque, if there was one. Narrow blue eyes gave them a quick scan. In that moment, all three were as professional as they could muster. Good impressions just added more zeroes to the final figure.
Stone moved quickly to the heavy iron table and took a seat, gesturing for the others to join him. Two accepted the invitation. The third remained buzzing over their heads. His age made his contributions to business discussion limited.
“Okay... so how exactly can we help the military, Captain...?”
Rank insignia betrayed as much. No name was forthcoming, however. Just silence.
There was a brief pause.
It was as though Stone was about to savour a particularly delicious treat.
And then he took his bite. “Vector the Crocodile, Espio the Chameleon... Charmy Bee.”
“Team Chaotix! That’s us!”
“Good. Because you are hereby under arrest for conspiracy.”
ACT ONE
Shadow the Hedgehog was once again to be found in the medical bay of the subterranean GUN facility. This time, he accepted treatment as gratefully as his brusque persona managed to allow. He had never been shot before. Even so, wounds usually healed quickly on account of his ultimate power. Drained of that power, a painful scar was forming on his left arm. But the physical healing process afforded time to mentally recover.
Just keep going.
Keep fighting to protect humanity.
He closed his eyes. “Maria...”
A few minutes of silence passed before the door to his anteroom opened. Shadow looked to see who was visiting him, expecting the Commander to rage forth and discipline his reckless actions. It was a happy surprise, therefore, to see Rouge the Bat flutter in and approach his bedside.
“Hey, handsome,” she smiled. “Feeling any better yet?”
“Rested,” he told her. “Not better.”
Rouge landed in the anteroom’s only chair and crossed her legs. “Well, at least that’s some kind of improvement,” she pointed out a bright side. “Anyway, I’m not stopping. My latest payment won’t count itself.”
Shadow heaved himself upright. “Checking up on me before you go?”
“Something like that... besides, I just spoke to the Commander. The doctors told him about your present condition and he wasn’t best pleased. If you’re serious about being a GUN agent and all, try to stay in his good books in future. Trust me... he’s a man you want on your side, and not just because he’s your superior officer.”
“Yeah,” Shadow growled in agreement. “I remember.”
“So, you’re going to stay put?”
There was a weak nod. It was not made without disappointment.
“Promise?” the bat persisted.
“Weren’t you leaving?” the hedgehog retorted sharply.
Rouge stood, her pink-toed high heels clicking against the polished chrome floor. She was inches from the door when Shadow called out after her. She turned back, something different about his voice.
“I... I just wanted to say...” He waivered, treading new verbal ground.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
He frowned. “I don’t... what?”
“Don’t thank me,” she protested, holding her hands out before her. “Shadow the Hedgehog doesn’t thank people. It’s too weird!”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly myself lately,” came a justification. With even more effort, he leaned forward and fixed her pretty cyan stare, no longer afraid of being honest. “And I don’t know how long this’ll last, so make the most of it... Rouge, thank you. I do appreciate all that you’ve done for me, even though I don’t say it very often... and I’m glad that you’re my friend.”
Rouge braved another smile before leaving the anteroom.
Only then did a single tear ruin her mascara.
Team Chaotix had been separated into three interrogation rooms.
With one down and two remaining, Captain Stone was now squaring off against Espio the Chameleon. Blue strobe lighting pulsed ominously around the walls. Soldier versus ninja. A battle of discipline.
“You were born on the Isolated Island,” Stone began.
Espio remained silent.
“That’s pretty remote wilderness out there. Tell me, do you like nature?”
“I eat apples,” the chameleon retorted defiantly.
Slamming his hands onto the metal table, the human officer lurched forward with fire in his eyes. “Cut the crap! I am not playing games with you here, do you understand? No smart-alec answers!” After a heartbeat to calm himself, Stone realised he had exposed a volatile nature and given Espio an advantage in their duel. He needed to reassert control. “Back to my first question,” he seethed. “Do you like nature?”
“I respect my environment,” Espio said truthfully this time.
Notes were shuffled. “Your old home was once attacked and invaded by Dr. Eggman,” it was read aloud.
Confirmation was not required.
“You and your friends teamed up with Knuckles the Echidna,” Stone continued to voyage down memory lane. “Not content with defending your home, it seems, you also assaulted the Carnival Island and drove Dr. Eggman from the area.”
“A ninja must always stand for justice,” Espio stated proudly. “I did what I had to do.”
“Hmm...”
More silence. More shuffling. More tension.
“I’ll tell you what I think,” the GUN second-in-command then went on the offensive. “I think you have a problem with authority. I think you and your friends enjoy fighting against any sign of local control, be it Dr. Eggman or be it the government. I think that makes you an anarchist, Espio!”
The chameleon was offended by the crescendo of accusations. “No way!”
“Yes, way! You’re a terrorist!”
“What? What is this even all about?”
Stone leapt up and produced a photograph. Thrown to the table, it rested under Espio’s yellow horn.
“Mighty the Armadillo!” barked Stone. “Where is he?!”
Espio could not have answered even if he wanted to. He was paralysed with shock, a feat difficult to achieve with a ninja of his level. The photograph stared up at him, a relentless and unblinking image from the recesses of his memory. A tsunami of anguish and tragedy came flooding back. No training could help such a loss. Purple ridges lowered. Was this all a GUN trick? An interrogation tactic?
What did they want from him? Why subject him to this torture?
“So, you’re not feeling talkative,” Stone grew impatient with the bowed head. He snatched the photograph back. “Maybe I’ll go take this next door... show it to Charmy. Kids can be so honest, I find.”
“Damn it,” Espio retorted, downcast. “He’s only six. What kind of monster are you?”
“I’m a monster with a mission,” came the final gamble. “Start talking and perhaps I won’t have to involve the bee.”
Take a deep breath. Be focused. Remain centred.
“Alright... what do you want to know?”
Drifting in and out of fitful sleep, Shadow did not mean to eavesdrop. The segregation of an anteroom, however, was a challenge. Voices were welcome distractions to avoid reminiscing about fifty years of suspended animation. Not only that, but the conversation between two medical staff outside contained enough key words to pique interest.
“Chaotix? Are you sure?”
“Saw them myself.”
“But... Stone? Interrogation? Is it because of Mighty?”
“I think so. Weren’t they connected?”
“No idea...”
He needed no further detail. Ignoring the various aches and pains of his fragile, powerless body was easy. Shadow slid from underneath his bed covers. Rocket-powered sneakers, fresh and clean, were found. Hands plunged into gloves. The only other thing he wore was a fierce attitude of sheer determination and resolve.
Enough rest. Nobody would interrogate Team Chaotix on his watch.
Nobody but himself.
ACT TWO
The doors were ugly affairs. Thick and heavily bolted. No electronic security. Reinforced steel, not the usual frosted glass found elsewhere throughout the facility. Blatant in their duty to incarcerate any criminal, of any shape or size.
But they were no criminals.
He flung the first door wide open with brute force. Inside, the relief that came across Vector the Crocodile went unconcealed. “Shadow!”
“Come with me.”
They moved to the third door. Vector tried his best to ignore the GUN soldier collapsed on the floor outside his cell. The leader of Team Chaotix would hate to sully his reputation with the government, in case it meant souring any future business opportunities. Then again, there was something edgy about this entire situation. And Shadow had knocked the soldier out, right? Best not to rock the boat. Vector kept quiet.
“Charmy!” he exclaimed as the third door opened. “You okay?”
“Yep,” the irrepressible kid bee buzzed forth. “Bored, though. We leaving?” Only then did he notice the hedgehog, and unbridled joy took over. “Hey, cool! Shadow! Yay, check it out, Shadow’s here!”
The praise went ignored. Focus reigned supreme.
“Is this a jailbreak?” Charmy asked of his boss, who just shrugged in reply.
Shadow was already in front of the second door. He tore it aside without delay, exposing an ongoing interrogation between Captain Stone and Espio the Chameleon. The latter gave little reaction, but the former nearly shook the very foundations of the GUN facility with his pure anger at the interruption. “What the...?!”
“Get out.”
Stone disputed, holding his place. “On whose authority?”
“On mine. Get out.”
A report was a report, regardless of the method used to deliver it. Whether written on paper to please his old-fashioned sensibility or typed on a digital data screen, they got a quick scan, a nod of approval and a stamp of authorisation. Or, failing agreement, sent back from whence they came with a few strong words.
Not this one.
This one had the full attention of the GUN Commander. His conscience had him fixated on the heading, reading it over and over again.
Research Core – Report – Testing, Phase #1 – Project: RPM.
It was age. It had to be age. Stuff like this never affected him before, but now... now he was a grandfather. Now the very knowledge of such a project was unsettling. And the fact that he asked for it to be undertaken... well, that only made him feel worse. But they had forced his hand, had they not? This was their fault. They asked for it. If this was what it took to protect the United Federation and avenge the President, then so be it. He found a pen and scrawled a signature.
Ignoring the fact that his hand shook as he did so.
“Commander... Commander, sir!”
The old officer looked up and forgot his woes. Captain Stone had burst into the Bullpen at full speed, incredulous about something. It was nothing new. But was he not questioning the members of Team Chaotix?
Did he have a lead? “Out with it, Stone!”
“Shadow... it was Shadow, damn him! He broke into my interro...” A brief pause to correct himself. “Into my interview! Assaulted the guard!”
“He did what?!”
“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’, sir, but he’s out of control! I hate that hedgehog!”
The Commander towered over his subordinate. “Where is he now?”
“Still in there,” Stone revealed.
“And you didn’t think to use surveillance and find out what they’re talking about?”
There was another pause. “I, uh... deactivated surveillance...”
“Yeah,” the superior chastised sarcastically. “I wonder why you did that! Curse you, Stone, and you’re saying he’s out of control?”
Together they stepped into the cold artificial glow of a security terminal. Using his override codes, the Commander reactivated the electronic recording equipment that was to be found embedded in the corners of the three interrogation rooms. In a flash, picture and sound came to life.
“We’ll discuss your tactics later, Stone. I mean, come on! One of them is a kid!” It was the protest of a grandfather, who pointed to the terminal. “In the meantime, start recording this stuff. Every word of it.”
The younger man still had some fight left. “You’re letting him continue?!”
“I’m sure as hell not letting you back in there,” was the final word.
“What’s goin’ on, Shadow?”
Vector was leaning against the metal table. Espio kept his seat, letting Charmy buzz around the empty atmosphere. It had thinned considerably since Stone departed. There was nothing like a familiar face to defuse the tension of intimidation. That face, so helpful already, kept as calm as possible. Shadow was never opposed to putting pressure on an enemy, but this trio of detectives were not to be classified as such.
He started by getting his bearings. “How much did Stone tell you?”
“Mighty,” said Espio. “He wanted to know about Mighty. He didn’t say why.”
“Same here,” Vector added. “I said nothin’, of course.”
With honesty to be respected, Shadow began to explain. “The terrorist group known as the Nemesis have been busy lately. They hijacked an armoured train and stole a Chaos Emerald, all to cover hacking into the GUN mainframe. They stole intelligence about the Black Arms and used it to dig up part of the Black Comet. For what purpose, I don’t know... and they tried to kill the President during his charity speech earlier today. I’m sure you must have seen that on the news.”
Chameleon and crocodile nodded simultaneously.
Time for the difficult part. “Mighty is working with the Nemesis.”
Shock.
Pure, dumbfounded shock.
“How do you know Mighty?” Shadow asked gently. “Are you in regular contact with him, or know of how we can find him again?”
“No,” Espio found his voice first. “We haven’t heard from Mighty in a long time. He used to be a member of our team, back when we called ourselves the Chaotix Crew. When he left, we rebranded ourselves as a detective agency.”
Charmy had gone very quiet. The hyperactive bee had not been asked the same questions as his colleagues and, as such, was only now hearing of everything for the first time. There was some comfort to be taken in his idolisation of Shadow. He was cool. He was awesome. And he was exactly the guy to deliver bad news to a child of six years old. Nevertheless, the threat of tears was genuine.
Vector straightened up from the table. “We ain’t criminals, Shadow.”
The hedgehog made a dramatic point of looking over his shoulder. In the top corner of the bleak room flashed a tiny red light. He knew that every word was being recorded. A camera was watching them.
“I know,” he replied loudly for its benefit.
ACT THREE
The Commander was impressed. “Son of a bitch... he’s good...”
In a short space of time, Shadow the Hedgehog had earned their trust. Co-operation was his reward. Answers were flowing free.
Not only that, but the glance to camera had proven his morality was intact. He was making a point. Standing up for their rights. Treating them with respect. Condemning the tactics of a certain Captain Stone and showing GUN how to get quicker, cleaner results. A masterclass in behaviour.
“This new Shadow,” the old man mused. “He really is something else.”
Stone was hovering like a bad smell. “Need I remind you, sir, that he assaulted a guard and left him unconscious? Hardly a good recruitment advert, is he? ‘Join GUN and get smacked around by a hedgehog’...”
“You were covering your ass,” the Commander accused, “and you know it. I ordered you to question, not to torture, Team Chaotix. And yet there you are, in an interrogation cell, with an armed soldier outside the door.” It was foreboding to hear such a level-headed tenor make the critical analysis. If one was yelled at, one was in trouble. Yet if one was spoken to softly, one was truly doomed. “You’re off the case, Stone.”
“Sir...?!”
“You heard me. Go back to your office and focus on your other duties.”
“Paperwork, you mean!”
“Whatever,” the Commander dismissed. “Just get out of my sight.”
They left the interrogation room and headed through a seemingly endless maze of chrome corridors. Shadow was taking them to the Bullpen. Little time could be wasted. Having been apart for so long, any leads Team Chaotix could offer toward finding Mighty the Armadillo would grow very cold, very fast.
A breeze washed through the hedgehog’s spines.
It was Charmy Bee. “Hey, Shadow? Is... is Mighty in trouble with the bad men?”
“You mean the Nemesis?”
The kid shook his head firmly. “No. I mean the military.”
Shadow gave a snort of amusement. It was a fair question. From the perspective of one so young, today had hardly been endearing of GUN. “The military aren’t bad men,” he tried to correct the misinterpretation. “We’re working to try and protect humanity. You just met the wrong guy.”
“Yeah, wrong guy,” Charmy repeated in agreement. “Bad guy.”
“No, just... misguided.”
“Like Mighty?”
The question came from a more serious tone. Espio accelerated to keep pace from behind, joining the conversation. Vector maintained his appearance of a lumbering powerhouse in the background. Half his attention was focused on his trademark headphones, anyway. The music they produced did not stop for anything. Not even interrogation. Not even news of an old friend, gone astray and in need of help. Some would doubt his sincerity, but it was merely the crocodile’s method of coping.
“He can’t be working with the Nemesis voluntarily,” Espio explained his question.
“You’re right,” Shadow nodded. “When I spoke to him, he seemed to be out-of-touch with reality. The Nemesis hide their weapons from him at all times. He is unaware of their actions against society.”
“Yep,” Charmy said innocently. “Mighty is a passi... pafis... a good guy!”
“Is that why he left you?”
The bee fell silent. Antennae drooped. It was clearly a sensitive issue, but one that Shadow needed to know the details of.
Espio took the job with his usual self-restraint. “Mighty comes from the Isolated Island, as do I. After we successfully defended it from Dr. Eggman, he became remorseful about some of our methods. He is physically strong, very strong... and that super-strength was useful against the badniks.”
Shadow suddenly froze. “He hated himself,” he murmured. “For what he had done.”
“Yes,” the chameleon confirmed. “Very much so.”
It was almost too perfect. Almost like some higher power had a hand in bringing them together. To meet. To realise the reflections they cast on one another. One side, the Ultimate Lifeform. The other, a pacifist. Both made to fight. Both made to ignore what similarity they shared.
Both manipulated by evil.
Both used.
Both carrying regret.
Yet one of them had broken free. One of them had overcome such tragic circumstances and was forging a new destiny. Doing the right thing. Fighting for a peaceful future. The irony of it all was that Shadow, unlike Mighty, was not a pacifist.
And, unlike Mighty, he was no longer blinded by a fog of lies, either.
“No...”
“Hmm?” Espio frowned at the hedgehog. “What is it?”
Shadow was shaking his head. “It isn’t fair. GUN have classified Mighty as a priority target and will hunt him down. If somebody like Stone leads that hunt, they’ll shoot to kill. I can’t let that happen!”
Charmy perked back up. “Alright, Shadow! Save the day, yeah!”
By this point, Vector had walked into the halted group and lowered his headphones to hang around his thick green neck. They joined his gold chain in swinging freely as he looked from face to face. Since when did he become the last to know everything? He was supposed to be the team leader, right?
Then he saw their fortitude.
“Okay,” he growled. “Whadda we do now, then?”
Five minutes. No sign of them.
Well, perhaps they were walking slowly. They did have a child with them.
Ten minutes. Still nothing.
Had they gotten lost? The unyielding maze of corridors were sometimes too disorienting for visitors. But surely Shadow was used to them by now?
Fifteen minutes.
“Where in the hell are they...?” the Commander muttered to himself.
As if in direct response, a light started to flash on the armrest of his central chair. It was to signal an alert. The speaker embedded beside it did not wait for permission to crackle loudly into the Bullpen.
“Commander, sir! This is the Back Door, Vehicle Requisition!”
“Go ahead, son,” his superior urged.
“There’s been a theft, sir! Two vehicles are missing!”
All at once, the delay made sense. They had not arrived at the Bullpen because they had not been heading for the Bullpen at all. “Which vehicles?” was asked quickly.
“A standard jeep,” the reporting officer explained, “and a prototype motorcycle!”
“Damn... with the frequency jamming kit?”
“Yes, sir, which means we’ll be utterly unable to track them, sir!”
Great.
Just great.
EPILOGUE
They had emerged from nothing.
A small hatch, that was all. Informally called the ‘Back Door’, it opened onto wide, sparse scrubland. Nothing for miles in any direction... save one. If it had been daylight hours, a vast shadow would have smothered them, cast by the inactive volcano that reached to the heavens above.
Home of the GUN facility.
As it was, however, night had fallen without a single cloud in the sky. Twinkling stars, like billions of eyes, watched them race away into the darkness. The larger of the two kicked up a matching plume of dust and dirt. Jeeps were just begging to be stolen. What with the open-topped design and rudimentary mechanics, it had been the easiest and most practical option for Team Chaotix to... well, they had stressed, ‘borrow’. Some quick hotwiring later and it was theirs.
Behind the wheel, Vector the Crocodile.
Defending from the rear, Espio the Chameleon.
Encircling above, Charmy Bee.
Matching pace by keeping his motorcycle subdued to thirty per-cent engine output, Shadow the Hedgehog instantly felt comfortable with what had been dubbed the Dark Rider. He had initially chosen it for the useful jamming technology. Now he appreciated the raw power of the bike... and, lacking his own power, he also appreciated the machine guns protruding from the rear wheel. He had a hard time stopping the rush.
But enough distance had been covered for now. He squeezed the brake. Alongside, the jeep filled with Team Chaotix crunched into the scrubland and halted.
“What now?” Vector asked of Shadow.
“Now we need to use your skills as a detective agency,” the hedgehog replied.
Espio leaned forward. “Casino Night Zone,” he said abruptly.
“That was quick...”
“No,” Vector corrected, nodding in agreement with the ninja chameleon. “He’s right! When we were last there, our client told us they’d seen Mighty! I never believed ‘em... I mean... a gambling city, for a nature-lover?”
Shadow blinked. “Is that the best lead we have?”
“It’s the only lead we have!”
“Alright.” The throttle on the Dark Rider was gunned. “Casino Night Zone.”
Before they could get underway, Charmy swooped low over his idol and came to rest in the glow of the motorcycle’s headlight. “Um... Shadow...?”
“What?”
“We... we are gonna find him, right?”
“Yeah, we’ll find him,” came a promise. “And we’ll save him.”
Written by Glenn Scully
