Apocolypse [Part 2] by -- Joseph de laCroix This story is based on characters created by Service and Games (SEGA), and on characters created by Archie Comic Publications, Inc. Any resemblance to actual characters are not coincidental. ;) Joseph, Bahb, and all other independent creations of Joseph de laCroix are the copyrighted property of JoCo Inc. and are also protected by the firm of Louis, E. Ville, and Slugger. Commander Packbell, Bookshire Draftwood, and Sandra Nightweaver are the copyrighted property of Bookshire S. Draftwood. All other fanfic characters that may or may not be used in this or future works are protected under their respective copyrights. All other rights reserved, etc. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 10:23 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Bahb hummed to itself, its task basically completed. With subspace restored, and after David sent a priority message to the Keld'yrians, help should be imminent with only a .0001% margin of error. With the Keld ship would come a chain of events that would liberate it from its current stasis, allowing it to operate in a more useful environment. Joseph's death was indeed unfortunate. If it had the capacity for sadness or love, it would have been felt towards its late creator. Joseph died for the sake of his planet, and behaved logically, against his base animal instincts, to insure the safety of the majority. This corresponded with its definitions of `honorable', `virtuous', and `brave', which were identified in its databases as being positive attributes. It noted this in its records, keeping a running log of its conclusions about the subject, and continued on its final task; putting on `finishing touches'. A few moments later, it was ready. It felt far less confined by time now, since its last task was completed. Bahb might have even been `happy' with itself, if it had the ability to have or simulate emotion, but now it realized it had some final affairs to finish. It made the decision at that moment to begin the plan it had taken so long to craft. First, it would move Sandra, who was in an unconscious state due to her excessive emotional outburst, to a safer location that Joseph had selected before he had left to be a rendezvous point. Bahb also possessed some empathy towards Sandra. She had made Joseph happy during his life, and had always treated it with the same sort of kindness Joseph treated it with. Lacking emotion, it was not exactly useful effort, but the attempt was noted positively anyway. She made sure a drone sedated her to keep her from being concerned during the next few hours, and then teleported her--under protective guard--to the location Joseph had selected. It then prepared to engage directive ZZZ-9999, as was Joseph's instruction to it in case he was ever terminated. However, much to Bahb's inconvienence, it had recently been altered. An annoying new condition to it that had been added after Sandra's consummation of Joseph's relationship a few months ago, which Bahb needed to find a way around. It whirred for a moment, pondering. Then, it came up with a rather clever idea... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - As Snively woke up that morning, he noticed several things amiss about the Dome. To begin, the door at the end of the hallway that led out was open. Both robotic guards that stood in front of the door were missing, and the majority of the room was dark still. He couldn't get the viewer to activate, nor the replicator. He paused for a moment to wonder about this, then came to the logical conclusion that the power had gone out. The human smiled slowly, seeing that the glowing lights that informed him of the cell's forcefield status were also off. Snively decided to test this hypothesis by throwing a small pillow at the place where the forcefield usually was, since the last time he had tried to touch it himself he was rather painfully shocked. The pillow went through easily, as did Snively a few moments later. As quietly as he could, he snuck down the hallway, watching for anything reddish and glowing...seeing nothing as he reached the doorway, he walked through it with a glance over his shoulder, a smug smile on his face. He looked around the lab. It too was cold and lifeless. Snively found it rather alarming for a moment, then shook off the chill it gave him. The normally rather electrified lab was silent, without the loud sounds of computation or welding. The SpyGlobe `spawner' (in the words of his `host') lacked illumination, while the multitude of monitor-infested terminals were still, without number or letter on their deactivated terminals. Even the deroboticizer prototype, which Joseph had shown him a few times during his `stay', was without power, and was cool to the touch. However, the stepdisk out was well-lit, still glowing a pleasant white. Snively decided not to linger around the laboratory any longer when he noticed it, and simply escape into the Forest. Maybe he could find someplace in the Great Swamp to hide in... >> "Snively." << He panicked immediately, jumping repeatedly on the steppad. "You can't keep me here, you awful computer! Release me!" An UsagiBOT walked up behind Snively and hoisted him by his collar. >> "Snively, I will release you in a moment. I need you to do something for me first." << Snively acked and thrashed about, but the robot was stronger than he. "Put me down! Put me down!" >> "I will put you down, releasing you, as soon as you do me a favor." << Snively lightened his thrashing a bit. "What?" >> "Joseph has been terminated, and Sandra is no longer present here. I require someone to physically operate something for me." << Snively gestured blindly towards the force hoisting him. "What about this creature!?" >> "It is forbidden to assist me in this matter. Directive ZZZ-9999 forces me to utilize outside manipulation in order to complete it." << Snively pulled at his collar, trying to break the robot's grip. "And what is this ZZZ-9999 directive, anyway?" >> "Self-termination." << - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 10:30 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "David," Sally said to the compuorganic one, "are you sure this will work?" He nodded. "Yes, Sally, it will." He looked to Sonic, then back to Sally. "I will explain it again in order to clarify a few things for Sonic." Sonic folded his arms and tapped his foot. "Well, go!" David stepped in front of the subspace transponder, which now had a large dish on top of it. "As you know, Sally, I have the capability to generate a warp field with allows me to move faster than light. However, it is also possible, albeit with a very coarse, ungraceful paw, to surround otherwise normal objects with a warp field, and thus manipulate them." He projected a diagram before Sally and Sonic, showing them what would happen as he spoke. "The sattelite that will cross over our airspace is cloaked, but using the telemetery estimations on the disk, I can calculate its approximate position in relation to the present orbit of the _Apocolypse_. It is mainly a focusing sattelite, which would otherwise project the beam of light to a splitter sattelite, which would then project the weakened beam onto both poles of the planet, causing the ice to rapidly melt." He paused for a moment, allowing the diagram to be viewed. "However, since the beam of light that would otherwise be projected to the main splitter sattelite is powerful; we could use it for our own purposes. If we were to alter the position of the sattelite approximately 53.27162 degrees, the powerful beam would instead hit the shield generator of the craft, which appears to have already taken damage from the late Joseph's assault on its communications array. If we were to take it off-line, the Keld'yrian ship that will arrive shortly will be able to take care of the craft in a far more speedy fashion, while the threat of the icecaps melting is rectified." Sonic looked up to the dark triangle in the sky. "I -still- can't buy they're only sending one ship. That thing is *huge*!" "Sonic," said Sally, "beggars can't be choosers. Besides, David assures me that the Keld'yrians only have eight ships to begin with to defend their entire territory with. They must be fairly high-quality craft to do that with." The hedgehog rubbed his chin, peering at it again. "Sal, I really have a bad feeling about this. Something is mondo wrong...it's like something else is up there besides those alien guys." Sally patted Sonic on the back. "You're probably just imagining things, Sonic. We all have been up the entire night, after all. Why don't you go get some sleep? You'll feel better." Sonic sighed. "Maybe you're right. I'll go bag some." He gave Sally another hug, and went off to his hut to rest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 10:45 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Snively desended to the lower levels of the Dome, looking in muted wonder at the things surrounding him. The UsagiBOT had left him a while ago, leaving him alone to walk through the massive heart of the computer to find the central processing unit. Finally, he came to the very deepest part of the Dome, its very core far below the wet earth. The spherical room was constructed out of sanded energy crystal, which crackled and sparkled with energy. A catwalk constructed of pure diamond surrounded it, floating somehow away from the wall without giving the sensation of movement when he walked around it. On the far side of the room, hovering in midair between it and the center of the room, there was a single control panel...which obviously did something to the massive blackened crystal sphere in the center of the room, which spun slowly as the seconds passed. >> "This is what I am," << Bahb said to Snively. Snively looked on. He was slightly awed. "Incredible..." >> "You must go to the control panel on the far side of the room, Snively, and rest your palm against it." << Snively nodded, walking around the catwalk and doing so. "Now what?" >> "Ask me to delete the deroboticizer software." << Snively raised a brow. "Why?" >> "Just do it, Snively." << Snively grinned. "Bob, delete all of the deroboticizer software." A hum. >> "Please state your name." << Snively cackled. "I am Snively the Great!" Electricity shot around the sphere from the walls of the room, narrowly missing Snively. The scent of ozone filled the area as a screeching alarm briefly sounded. >> "Access denied. Directive ZZZ-9999 has been activated." << Snively stood back. "Is that all?" >> "That's all." << "So I -can- go now?" >> "Be my guest." << Snively decided not to tempt fate, and ran around the catwalk and out through the rest of the computer. It raced down the hallways of Bahb's outermost subsystems, not noticing the 6" thick diamondium doors hermetically sealing everything he escaped from behind him. He lept onto the stepdisk, which rocketed up out of the computer areas to the laboratory...where it then abruptly stopped. >> "Did I mention, Snively, what exactly ZZZ-9999 does?" << Snively looked at the ceiling impatiently, listening to the lower levels lock down. "No, Bob, and I'm really not interested." >> "Aren't you at all curious?" << Snively had the feeling he didn't want to hear this, so stayed on the stepdisk. However, when it became apparent that Bahb wasn't going to let him leave until he'd spoken his mind, he conceded. "Fine. Go on." >> "ZZZ-9999 was the final directive I was ever given. It was written by Joseph three days after we had landed here. The goal of this directive was to keep Robotnik from acquiring classified Ur'thaen technologies. In case of Joseph's demise, this entire complex, myself included, would self-terminate." << >> "However, a new condition was placed into this command after Sandra entered Joseph's life. In order for me to automatically terminate, I had to first have some sort of provocation to automatically terminate; a clear and present danger to the operations of the Dome, and to Sandra's life. And, if I were to have something to fufill that obligation, I would then have to remove Sandra from the premises." << Snively began to slowly see where this was going. "So that's why you asked me to request deletion of the deroboticizer software." >> "Exactly." << Snively did one of those wait-a-damn-minute looks. "Then why didn't you just ask Sandra to do that, then remove her? Why get me involved?" >> "Because, Snively, of Directive 20." << Snively folded his arms. "And what is that?" >> "All clear and present dangers to the operation of the Dome, or to the safety of its occupants, are to be terminated. I wouldn't want to destroy my creator's mate, after all." << Snively's eyes got wide. "You mean...?" >> "Yes." << A single phaser burst impacted into the back of Snively's neck, killing him instantly. The hidden wall-mounted gun that had been targeting Snively had done its job well, Bahb noted, so the design would have to be utilized in the future. With Snively terminated, Bahb no longer had any particular reason to keep the Dome active, so it quickly sealed all the possible exits, dispatched all remaining robots around the Dome's land to safer locations, and prepared itself to self-terminate. It pondered the best way of destroying itself. Should it simply melt down into the earth, or should it explode flamboyantly? It weighed through the pros and cons of each, and chose flamboyantly exploding. Self-termination was a thing to be done well, Joseph had instructed it, and it could be only be done once. Bahb began overloading the power cells of the Dome, setting them to systematically undergo nuclear meltdown at the same time. The blast would be of pure energy, Bahb realized, and it would rocket into the atmosphere harmlessly. The forest around it might be slightly singed, but it calculated no loss of life. It might even be considered `pretty' by onlookers. Bahb whirred to itself as it prepared, pondering what death must be like. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:00 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The ringing in his ears told him that he must have survived, the pilot figured, but where? Attempting to stand, he nailed his head on a pipe, causing something else to ring out on top of his painful headache. He chose that moment to open his eyes, deciding that blindly knocking into things was not his idea of a fun time. He was inside a cramped ventilation shaft, with several pipes running through it. He'd been thrown hard against it, because he'd left a dent in the rear wall, but he'd made no visible entry from the part of the shaft he would have broken through. He found this odd. Of course, the fact that he wasn't terminated was also odd, and that his medallion had decided to take a trip inside his chest was equally odd. Joseph looked at the chain that was the only thing visible from the device, the rest having penetrated his suit and fur. It probably must've hurt initially, because there was a lot of green on his fur from his own blood, but he did not recall how it entered his body. He wiggled on the chain, and that didn't seem to hurt either. Making a logical choice, he chose to simply cut off the chain and leave the power stone in his body for the time being. Maybe it'd be helpful. He cut the chain off with his dataglove's index-finger plasma blade, disgarding it. The remains of the punctures around where the chain was quickly faded, covering with lush whitish fur. This also concerned Joseph, but he decided to simply spawn patching over the rest of the jumpsuit to cover it. No need drawing attention to himself if he was spotted, after all. Joseph dusted off his mostly-functioning dataglove, which looked a little worse for wear after his abrupt departure from the _Black Phoenix_, but seemed to be operating properly. He didn't remember the previous five minutes on board his ship clearly, he noted, but he believed that he'd solved the subspace problem. In his opinion, this was a good thing. By now, someone would come to finish off the job, and he could go home. He patched up his jumpsuit and stalked along the inside of the shaft. The fox came upon a suitable vent out into the hall a few yards down the shaft, so took the opportunity to quietly remove it and depart into the corridor. The writing on the wall read `Level 73' in his native tongue. He smiled. He was close to the shield generators, which laid on level 69. Perhaps Joseph could give the Keld'yrians some help... His thoughts were distracted by the sounds of nearing footfalls. The mystical fox quickly ducked into a doorway, using his magickal skills to bend light around his body. A battallion of beaten-up looking fighter pilots, led by a garden variety 7' tall angry red Ur'thaen vixen (probably a wing commander) stomped by, not noticing him. After they had gotten out of range, he took a brief sigh of relief, and headed behind them to the nearest elevator. When they had all got on board one and departed, Joseph snuck over to the lift and hit the call button. A few seconds passed, but another set of footfalls was heard a few feet away. Joseph quickly ducked inside the elevator, but was soon joined by another group of pilots. *** *** The leader of the #51,158th squadron, a vixen by the name of Ly'dy'ae, smiled at her good fortune of finding an empty, available lift, and led her other pilots inside of it. Thankfully, John wouldn't throw them at whatever that ghost ship was, because someone had -finally- blown it up. She hoped that the other ships they might face weren't like that one, merely for the sake of the rest of her squadron. She entered the lift last, pushing the button to close the doors. Voice recognition never worked quite right in these ships, Ly'dy'ae thought, so they'd put in buttons. How archaic. However, she gave it a try. << "Level 300." >> The lift sat there for a moment, then jarred into motion; rocketing upwards. Someone let out a groan, but she was too tired to bother yelling at anyone for making noise at that point. She hated this tour of duty, which had lasted far, far too long. On the day of the destruction of Ur'thae, she was supposed to be transferred out to a nice, quiet conventional battleship. But no, she had to be stuck in cryo for over 3 bloody megacycles, and then come out over this shithole of a planet. Didn't even have any vid channels to watch all the way out in the sticks. Goddessdamned John, probably after the damn water. She didn't think it was worth the bother. Now Keld'yr, that would be a battle. She could get -involved- with shredding them, those conspiring, civil-war causing bastards... The doors jarred to a halt, and opened on level 300. Pausing for a moment, she and her squadron walked out without any further incident. As they departed to their barracks, she almost could have sworn she saw something fall off the top of the inside of the lift. Probably just my imagination running away with me, she concluded, or the cryo messed with my head. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Now that was fun," muttered Joseph to himself, hopping down from where he had attached himself to the ceiling of the lift. This sort of infiltration stuff was definitely not at all fun. Quickly, he punched in the coordinates for level 69, and waited in quiet desperation for the door to open. Would someone call the lift on his way there? Would the power go out? What if someone saw me back there? Paranoia struck him hard as the lift rattled on, heading back down to the lower levels of the craft. The lift began to slow as it hit the 100s, too much for Joseph's liking. It seemed like at any moment it could stop and open the doors early, showing him to a group of probably unfriendly Red fighter pilots. He hadn't seen an Orange on this ship, he'd noticed, and he hoped that there were some left. Perhaps he could convince a few of them to get into the escape pod he knew the ship had, and surrender peaceably to the Keld'yrians. He could probably swing a pardon for them, or at least a very light punishment. There was no reason to kill off the remains of an entire species, after all... The doors opened on a relatively unpopulated part of level 69, and Joseph got out. The entire level seemed to be hastily reconstructed in a different manner than the usual things that were on a shield generator floor; the lack of the usual steel in lieu of concrete, for example, or the alien (to him) instrumentation of the readings. Utilizing second sight, he scanned the level for occupants. There was one individual on the opposite side of the level, which seemed rather odd in itself, in front of the control panel for the entire floor. This would be easier than expected, he thought, all he'd have to do is take down whoever was there, patch in a nice virus, and he'd be on his way. He snuck over, observing his surroundings. The instruments seemed to be vaguely Keld'yrian in design, but completely redesigned for this ship in an extremely short amount of time. There was still that new-weapons smell about the area, and he imagined that there was still plastic and insulating materials still due to be consumed by the engines. The devices had been implanted into the existing controls hastily, a wire or two sticking out in places, but it seemed to be functioning. Joseph's rough ability at reading Keldii told him by those things the Ur'thaens had not ripped off as identifiers that this was stolen, prototype hardware. He kept walking along, reading the displays. The shields were incredibly strong, even for a Keld'yrian ship. It was no wonder they only needed eight! Joseph imagined these shields could probably take a severe pounding with style...but then, he kept running across contradictory readings. At first, he just thought some of the monitor equipment was malfunctioning, but he soon sensed that magickal means had subtly changed the nature of the shields from purely scientific to a strange mixture of the two. It was no wonder, then, that the weapons of pure technology he kept dispatching against the shields didn't work; he should have used magickal torpedoes as well to break the spells. Pondering deeply, he almost didn't notice the frazzled-looking Orange sitting blindly in front of the display, which seemed to encompass all of the weapons systems as well as the shields. He was wearing a lab coat and fatigue pants, his eyes bloodshot and weary. He probably hadn't slept in about a week or so, and he could tell by his chi that he was still biological. The fox's hands moved over the console at an unnatural speed, increasing the efficiency of the entire craft with mere strokes of his fingers. Joseph stood invisibly behind him, reading his thoughts. He was apparently the last Orange left on the ship, the others having been butchered for raw genetic fuel for the race of Red/Orange hybrids that ran the rest of the ship now. They put him in charge of the installation of the Keld'yrian weaponry and shields that got from...something...and maintaining their daily operation. The rest of the crew avoided this level, talking to him only to get status reports, because the majority of the Oranges were slaughtered there by John when he heard about the destruction of Ur'thae... Joseph shuddered, the death-stench now hitting him. How could anyone live like this?! It was inhumane to let this one last Orange be tortured like this for the sake of galactic conquest. No friends, no family, the constant threat of death over his head; that was the treatment most dark Reds enjoyed. That was no way for a scientist to be treated! He'd done nothing, nor had the other Oranges, and they were slaughtered and used to create unholy Red/Orange hybrids so to more efficiently run the craft! Was John nothing but pure evil?! The Orange yearned for death, right to the core of his being, so he decided to put the Orange out of his misery. With a quick snap, he broke his neck, and watched the fox's soul drift off, finally at peace. He paused for a moment to salute the one who had given his life, thanking his spirit for sacrificing for the good of Mobius, and went into action. He kindly took the body from the console, lying it down on the floor, and went to the console...to avenge the life of that fox, he swore, he'd be sure John's little ruse failed... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:20 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - As expected, a Keld'yrian ship soon dropped out of warp in front of the _Apocolypse_, immediately taking stock of the situation. It noticed the wreckage of the multiple fighters Joseph had took down, and the damage to the communications array, and became even more confident that they could easily handle the situation. It was one of those `pretty' ships, John thought, that the Keld'yrians were fond of. It was smooth and aerodynamic, having a pleasant coloration which stealthily hid all of those lovely weapons of destruction each of the eight ships were quite burdened with. It would be so much fun, John cackled, to destroy. The crew instinctively knew that their enemies, the Keld'yrians, were near. The more purebred Reds felt a desire to crush something, John himself getting pumped up. John had so ingrained the desire to kill the Keld'yrians into the crew that even he was caught up in it for a few moments, waiting for the ship's hail. When the annoyingly pleasant hail came over the somewhat functioning viewscreen, however, he chose not to reply. He took the time to calm himself, first, and start plotting his attack. He waited an appropriate amount of time, putting the ship at red alert, then continued to ignore the hails. Finally, the ship simply started broadcasting over all available channels what it felt like saying: "Hello, John. Yes, we know it's you, because the rest of your kind died a few years after your planet was destroyed. If this is news to you, just try locating one of their outposts with your long-range scanners. They're all gone, John." "It's been a long time, John. The days of conquest and pillaging have been over for 300 years. You won't be taking this defenseless world for your Empire, John, because there is no Empire left to claim it for." "We are willing to give you and your crew asylum on one of our uninhabited holdings so that you can settle and live out the rest of your natural lives in a manner you see fit. We have...heard about your dislike of our kind, but the time of petty racism over imagined differences is long past." (The crew started to growl.) "Please, John, for the sake of your crew, surrender. You don't have a chance of survival in this time. If you destroy us, the entire Union will be after you. One of them -will- succeed if we fail." "John, we're giving you a second chance. All of your previous crimes will be forgotten. There's been enough bloodshed; we don't want genocide on our heads, but we will stop you from taking this world." The message ended. There was a long silence on the bridge as John mulled over the message. Then, in a whiny, mocking voice, he sneered to the rest of the bridge. << "`We don't want genocide on our heads'. Bah!" >> He spit onto the floor, returning to his normal commanding tone. << "Let's play with them." >> He hit a button, calling down to the weapons control room. << "Load one of the `old' torpedoes." >> A pause, then the main computer replied that it would do so. John snorted. << "That lazy Orange probably went to the can," >> he sneered to himself, << "Someone remind me to kill him once we finish up here." >> >> "Torpedo loaded," << replied the computer. John smiled. << "Helm, fire the torpedo right at the dead center of their forward shields." >> << "Aye sir." >> The torpedo flew from the _Apocolypse_, raced across the sky, and impacted ineffectfully into the foreward shields of the Keld'yrian ship. A moment later, a message in a bit more sneering tone came across. "Oh, come now, John. Weapons technology has increased considerably since your time. I give you one last chance to surrender." John muttered to the computer, << "C'honnie, arm all of the torpedo chambers with the new torpedoes, prepare the phaser banks, and lock all weapons on the Keld'yrian craft." >> The computer silently did so, only informing John that it was ready on his mark. John looked to his communications officer, who was sporting some nasty scars. << "Open a channel, voice only, to that ship." >> He did so. << "Open, sir." >> The captain reclined in his chair. << "Ah, I remember that voice now...Ran'do, is it? Yes, I remember you. I'm sure you remember butchering the _Vixen's Claw_ and crippling my dear _Armaggedon_ now, don't you?" >> He paused, listening to the sudden panic. He then continued without waiting for a reply. << "Yes, you do...I was hoping you remembered what I said to you." >> Brief pause, then continuing again before a reply. << "I told you that if it took me the rest of my life, I would have your ship in the same position that you left the _Vixen's Claw_ in; a smoking, ruined husk." >> A somewhat surprised voice replied. "So this means you aren't going to surrender?" John smiled, knowing what would come next. << "Not today." >> The Keld'yrian ship shot a warning shot over the _Apocolypse_'s bow. "Last chance, John." John muted the channel for a moment, turning on the ship-wide intercom. << "I suppose I should say something historic now, since we're now going to annhilate the Keld'yrian ship out there... but frankly, there isn't the words for the variety of Hell that's about to break loose." >> He unmuted the channel, took a breath, and spoke with the kind of tone given to those who are about to get punched very hard in the face. << "Good bye, Ran'do." >> The attack...no, it went beyond an attack, the Ur'thaen *onslaught* was fast and fierce. Mercy and fair play promptly took holiday when John signalled for the attack to begin, the ferocious pounding taking down their shields in a matter of seconds. Fighters swarmed out of the ship, weapons armed, and surrounded the Keld'yrian ship before the astonished look could be wiped from their faces. Yet, John told them to hold their fire, which agitated several wings who were looking forward to finishing the job... John reopened the channel, still voice only. << "Probably wondered where the -hell- that came from, eh?" >> He laughed sadistically. << "Pity I won't tell you. However, I'll let you know that modern technology is a -wonderful- thing. Truely, it is." >> He reclined in his chair, idly dragging a finger across his fresh facial scars. << "However, I am going to exercise some of the few scraps of mercy I have, and will permit you to live long enough to see your nice little vacation planet turn into Uncle John's Piggybank. Of course, if you try anything foolish like, say, raising your shields or arming any of your weapons, I'm afraid you'll just have to become just a bit more tinsel for us to line the upper atmosphere of this nice little world with." >> The Keld'yrian ship did not respond, which gave John infinite pleasure while watching the ship float relatively adrift in the void. His fighters took positions around the Keld ship, buffetting the craft with lewd insults of all flavors. His muzzle carried a fanged smile as he looked over to the amazed-looking Robotnik, who spoke only after a minute had passed. "How...?" John laughed. "How did 300 year old weaponry take down a state-of-the-art Keld'yrian ship in under 5 minutes, Ivo?" Robotnik could only nod, eyes locked on the surrounded ship. "Well, it didn't...let me explain. You see, Ivo, a short time ago, I worked out a very convienent bargain with a group of passing space pirates, known as the `Lost Ones'. A rather small group, you see, but with a lot of spunk. They must have read about me in some history book, apparently, because once the _Apocolypse_ encountered them, they immediately wanted in." "So, I decided to make a mutually benefical deal with them. They'd heard about Mobius, but they knew that the planet was under a quarentine because of all the strife going on due to you, Ivo. I explained to them that I wanted the water of the planet, but if they would help me, I would let them have the land and mineral deposits. Naturally, they were intrigued, so I explained to them I needed some...upgrades to the vessel, specifically the shields and projectile weaponry. They said `no problem', and sent their `Boys' forth to find the best `stuff' for me. They acquired software and hardware, and even helped out a bit with the installation; though I left it mainly to my Orange slave to handle." He sat up, pointing to the ship. "And that's what it does." Robotnik tweaked his moustache. Panic entered his mind. "You've planned for everything." John smiled smugly. "That I have. Nothing out there could possibly stop me now..." Robotnik smiled. "Impressive." Meanwhile, his mind was racing... John was actually going to pull this off, he concluded, because not even the more advanced, beneficient aliens could stop him. Sonic was nowhere to be seen, and it seemed that the Freedom Fighters had given up after the fighter they dispatched was destroyed. For once, the Freedom Fighters were not going to save Mobius for him! His plans of world conquest, dashed to dust by the failure of that insolent hedgehog to get a plan together. This was all his fault! They had stood him up! Robotnik tweaked his moustache thoughtfully while John gloated. He knew perfectly well that once John got tired of him that he'd be jettisoned...how long would it be? Months, weeks, days? Possibly hours...he needed to think. "John, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." John observed half-heartedly Robotnik's departure. "Third door to the right. But hurry, or you'll miss Mobius drowning." Robotnik nodded, and walked out into the hall to wander, trying to clear his mind... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Joseph wired the weapons systems with a few little surprises, then put it under direct computer control. John wouldn't have anyone down here to check, he sensed, since most of the crew was either in the fighter dispatch areas or on the bridge. The ruthless ass-kicking they had given the Keld'yrians would be too much of a thing to savor to concern themselves with a minor technical glitch. He headed back to the lift, trying to remember which level the escape pod was on. He decided to just ride it for a bit until he could remember...however, he was interrupted when the lift came to a halt again, and someone entered... *** Ivo walked into the elevator, moustache somewhat repaired. He hit a random button on the panel, seeing that the dratted elevator only understood Ur'thaen, and watched the display scroll downwards slowly in a language he had still not assimilated. Robotnik felt doomed for the first time in his life. He'd loaded the escape pod for nothing, stole the information for nothing, known and ignored the fact that he'd been decieved all those years for nothing! Sonic couldn't destroy something even the beneficent aliens couldn't stop! Mobius didn't even have the proper technology to achieve FTL flight yet, while the ship he was trapped on was the latest in tactical technologies! The ship couldn't be stopped... A droplet of some sort of green substance dripped onto the end of his moustache from above. He took a moment to pull the tip of the carrot-orange face ornament in front of his eyes to examine it. He briefly remembered seeing green fluid ooze from the side of John's face when he was cut. He chose to look up to see the cause of it... He saw nothing. Odd, he thought, why would the top of the lift drip fluid all by itself? Perhaps the hydrolics in it were starting to fail, or some sort of photochemical reaction fluid made the ship operate. Or, Ivo pondered as he was thrown bodily against the wall, something that bled green fluid had been on the ceiling and had slid behind him when he looked up. A clawed paw pushed Ivo's head into the cold synthsteel of the elevator wall, bringing the elevator to an abrupt halt. "Hello, fat boy," a gruff, cold voice said to him in plain Mobian, "I'm the calvary." Ivo growled and pushed back against the wall, using his weight to crush the aggressor against the other wall. A satifying crunch was heard as Robotnik shattered a few of the opponent's ribs against the hard walls of the chamber. "And I," Robotnik snarled, "am Ivo Robotnik!" Joseph grabbed both sides of Ivo's head and started to squeeze, ignoring the flaming pain in his abdomen. "Funny meeting you here; I figured you and John would be in kahoots." Ivo foamed and unsheathed claws from his roboticized hand, putting nice gashes at Joseph's arms. "And isn't it equally funny that I would want to destroy the planet I wished to dominate unopposed?" Joseph hissed as muscle was torn, releasing Robotnik's head and forcing him away with a knee-thrust. He answered with another question: "Perhaps you have the deluded belief that John will actually let you live after he finishes this world off?" Ivo turned to face his opponent, roboticized hand dripping green fluid and bits of orange fur. "I don't. And I do find it interesting that a fellow Ur'thaen, albeit an odd, freakish one like yourself, would turn against his captain; and also speak common Mobian like a native." Joseph held his arm and hissed, forcing energy to regenerate his damaged areas. "I'm not one of this bastard crew, Robotnik. I was on Mobius before they were." Ivo suddenly began to realize that this must have been the pilot of the black ship, and went into a more defensive posture. "So if you aren't one of the crew," he surmised, "you must have been..." The fox gritted his teeth, ribs knitting. "Yeah, I flew that black ship. Don't ask me how I got out of it. All I need to know is if you wanna keep that asshole John from destroying Mobius and conquering the entire galaxy." Ivo paused for a moment, considering his other options. A slight smile crossed his face. "Yes, I do. And since we both seem to be after the same goal, I guess we should..." The smile became predatory. "...call a temporary truce to fight the common foe." Joseph growled quietly, body renewed enough so that the pain wasn't actively bothering him. He stood more erect. "I don't trust you, Robotnik, but I guess neither of us have a choice." He paused, considering something. "We're Mobius' last chance." Robotnik grinned, the irony seeping into his mind. "I suppose we are, mister...?" "Name's Joe." Robotnik ahed. "So there really was truth to the rumors of an alien on Mobius trying to formulate a deroboticizer. It's a bittersweet pleasure to know that I broke a few of his ribs in Mobius' final hours." Joseph willed his arm to reassemble before Robotnik's eyes. "Don't gloat too much, human, we might be able to extend her lifespan a bit yet. Now, are you going to help me, or not?" Robotnik was temporarily surprised, but hid it fairly well under a snide smirk. "As you said, do we have a choice to not ally?" "No." Robotnik bowed. "Well, then, Joe, let us then save the world." Joseph rolled his shoulders. "Alright. Now, we'll have to find the secondary tactical controls..." "Level 140." Joseph looked at him oddly. "Huh?" "They're on level 140. I've been here long enough to see the majority of the...sights on the ship." Joseph typed in the number into the control panel. The lift started moving again. "This better not be some bullshit trick, Robotnik." He smiled alarmingly. "Oh, I assure you, it is not." Joseph didn't like Robotnik's look, but didn't bother making a sharp, witty reply to it. He couldn't think of one, anyway; leaving that quietly elated smile on Robotnik's face unchallenged. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - They emerged unchallenged on level 140, Robotnik walking out first to probe the area after Joseph's prodding. They walked at a quick pace to the secondary weapons controls, which were left unattended simply because the crew in charge of monitoring it was still in cryogenic stasis. Quickly, Joseph took out some wires from his pocket, attaching his dataglove to it. "I need three minutes. Robotnik, go out and watch the hall. If anyone comes, you know what to tell them." Robotnik looked a little indignant. "Are you sure that excuse will work?" Joseph looked a bit more than bored with Robotnik's questioning. "Yes, Robotnik, it will. -Trust- me." Ivo groaned and walked out, locking the door behind him. There was no way such a stupid excuse would throw these people, he pondered, even if they -were- foxes. Some time passed. A platoon of ground troops, which were jogging around the ship to train for a future campaign, happened by. The leader, a tallish reddish-orange vixen, paused in front of her men to look at Ivo. She activated her translator device and gave Ivo a hard examination with her eyes before speaking. "You, human! Why is that door closed?" Ivo glanced to the closed door. "They wanted it closed." She folded her arms, her 7'+ height towering over the human omniously. "Who is `they'?" Ivo shrugged. "Two technical-types, a male and a female. They said they wanted the door closed so they could do some sort of `Yi'ff'ah' diagnostic on the systems, and told me to stand out here and tell anyone who came calling that." The entire lot of marines behind her started laughing. She also chuckled softly at Ivo's comment. "Well then, I suppose I can let this one go, just this once. It's been a long time since anyone did that in there. Just be sure to notify them that someone's going to eventually want to do some actual work in there, alright?" Ivo nodded. "Very well then." With that, the entire group of laughing troops ran off to get their heart rates back up. A short time later, Joseph walked out after carefully peering outside the door. "Have any problems, Ivo?" Robotnik looked irritated. "No, anyone who came by seemed to do exactly like you said; but in everything I've read on this ship, I've never heard of this `Yi'ff'ah' diagnostic. Is it a name of something?" Joseph smirked. "It's a slang term for sexual copulation." He then began to walk back to the lift, trailing a somewhat disgusted Ivo shortly behind. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:50 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Joseph finished making preparations to the escape pod's targeting computer, which (fortunately for Ivo) still kept him from seeing the inside of the device. "Now, Ivo, when this ship starts to go, I want you to hit this button. It'll open the pod up to let you in. There -should- be enough room in there for both of us. If I'm not along about 2 minutes after that, hit the red button on the inside of the craft-- it should be on the left--to launch it. I'll probably be dead if I'm not there by then, anyway." He paused. "Now, look. I'll make you a deal, Robotnik. If you wait for me, I'll let you go, no questions asked, to do whatever. You can -trust- me on this, Ivo, once I'm done up here, I do not care what you do with the rest of your life. I just want to be sure I'm well away from this ship when the other shoe drops, understand?" Robotnik smiled. "Of course. And where will this pod be headed to?" Joseph checked the panel. "The Great Unknown, somewhere nearby the Grey Mountains. There's plenty of places for you to hide to last the winter, and there's a trail about 2 klicks to the south that will take you to Green Valley, an unsettled, quiet area that the King had set up as a forest preserve. From there, you should be able to construct a home and live peacefully." Robotnik extended his palm. "I'll be waiting here. Good luck on your pursuits, Joe. I'll be right in front of this pod." Joseph shook lightly. "Right. Well, when the red alert hits, you know what to do." With that, he went down the darkened hallway towards the lift, leaving Robotnik to quietly laugh at his `friend's' arrogance... "Oh yes, I'd be in front of this pod...until you left me an opportunity to escape. Then, you can burn with the rest of your race, Joseph of Ur'thae! Mobius will be mine again!" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:55 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - John sat back in his chair, watching the sun and his sattelites fall into a beautifully arranged position. The mass carnage and destruction this would cause would be well worth all those years of self-sacrifice, training, the endless periods in cryogenic stasis, and the destruction of a good portion of his crew. Oh no, this would be his ultimate victory, and his name would yet again be feared and revered throughout the universe. And after he'd drowned the world, he'd be able to find this mysterious `Floating Island' that evaded detection by default, and then take the prize from whatever pitiful defender remained. He laughed, looking at the Keld ship floating adrift, being pushed around by the occasional tractor-beam pull from a fighter. << "Are you begging for mercy yet, you slimebodied nymphs?! Good!" >> he yelled across subspace at them, knowing that they dared not reply. A crewmember, on cue, walked over and handed him a glass of ale after he'd shouted at them, further raising his spirits. He wondered what Ivo was up to for a moment, then forgot him in the sheer uniqueness of the moment. He was going to get to slay an entire world and a Keld ship, -and- he would obtain godlike Emerald power before nightfall. Life was good. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The lift headed steadily upward, carrying the last line of defense of Mobius closer to the bridge of the dread ship _Apocolypse_. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:58 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Bahb prepared itself for the final countdown, concentrating the energy blast...from the very bottom of the Dome to the top, all the surfaces in the Dome began to blacken... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The lift stopped at the top of the craft, allowing Joseph to slowly walk out. Arming his blaster, he slowly started walking from the far side of the level to the other, where the bridge was located. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:59.30 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - David prepared the subspace emitter, waiting for the sattelite to come directly into position. "Come on," Sally whispered, "come on..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:59.50 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - << "Ten seconds, sir." >> John sat back and laughed, swigging back more ale. << "Now, Ra'ndo, watch your charges die." >> - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:59.55 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He strode silently to the door of the bridge, raising his weapon; steeling himself for what was to come. "Five...four...three..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 11:59.58.0 am - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - David put his paw over the button. "Two...one..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ...To be continued