Overture
 
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.  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.  Hail Eris.
 
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     Pleasant dreams of flight and various permutations of it involving
complex but incredibly satisfying intimacies slowly slid into a form
of consciousness in the mind of Sandra Nightweaver, who laid on a
beach in some unknown location.  She smiled, mming softly to herself
as she sniffed the wind for her lover's scent.  Not finding the intensely
familiar odors of tobacco, Joseph's naturally occurring alpha pheromone,
or the sweet-sour tang of ozone that followed him whenever he used an
energy blast, she assumed that he had gone off to meet this `Guardian'
alone since she was asleep, and was not immediately troubled.
 
     She rolled onto her stomache for a moment, eyes yet closed.
Sand meaning a beach.  Caressing it with her paw, it felt much
less coarse than the continental yellow grade...most likely, it was
white sand; she had a vague pulse of memory of a resort she had
gone to once that had the stuff shipped in to make the entire
area seem like it was, in fact, somewhere out in the ocean.
Nice place, it was...she wondered if it survived the war.
Probably not, so she put it out of her mind and continued investigating.
 
     It was a warm night, she noted, a welcome change from where she
had just come.  Summerish tempetures, and the scent of salt gave her the
impression that she was at sea.  Listening closely for a few more
moments, she heard the sounds of birds and other animals rustling about
a few yards away...junglish, she noted, so this must be an island by the
equator; that supported a reason for it being so warm.  However, using
just her senses of smell, touch and hearing lacked a certain something
that only sight could inform her of, so she finally chose to check her
assumptions by looking about.
 
     Opening her eyes, she discovered her suspicions were correct.  The
palm trees on the shore swayed from the gentle breeze, the white sands
rippled perfectly in the moonlight, and there didn't seem to be a
cloud in the sky.  A lush jungle was behind her, creeping slightly out
from the edges to caress the sand at times.  The vixen smiled, sitting
upright from where she had been apparently placed by her mate.
She couldn't hear the ocean very well, which she found odd...maybe this
was on a precipice overlooking a cliff; Joseph hadn't given any specifics
on this `island' they were heading to other than the fact that a Guardian
resided there of the `echnida' variety.
 
     Standing, she still couldn't see the ocean.  Strange, she thought,
this beach seems to be either incredibly high for something natural,
or the tides here are quite low.  Her ears popped from her sudden
change in altitude, in fact, disconcerting her for a moment as she
walked towards the edge of the beach...
 
     ...and looked down, seeing several clouds and the glistening
water a few stories below her paws.
 
     Sandra nearly screamed, surprised at how high up she was, and
quickly scrambled back onto more `sturdy' land.  What sort of
island -was- this!?  A nice tropical island like that was not supposed
to be flying around wildly like this!  It was supposed to stay nice
and still at sealevel, have a nice surf-and-turf restaurant down a
boardwalk manned by nice little college kits who needed some extra
Mobiums for their student loans, a surfboard rental kiosk, several
street performers, a couple condominiums and perhaps a few nightclubs;
it was not supposed to be sailing over the ocean several stories above
the cloudline.
 
     The vixen forced herself to calm down, looking around again.
Joseph wouldn't leave her alone in a dangerous place, she knew that
much...he was almost paranoidly protective of her in any situation
that was not under his complete control, which was one of his
(very few, in her eyes) annoying flaws.  But, of course, she might
have been exaggerating his concern slightly; they used to live
around a war zone, and SWATBots sometimes came a little too close
to the perimeter of the `compound'.  From what she'd told him about
Packbell, it was no wonder he'd constantly double-check the perimeter
before he'd gone to sleep at night.
 
     However, Packbell was gone, Snively had probably been released
or killed off by now, and Robotnik rode the lightning in the
booby-trapped escape pod Joseph had made.  That entire episode in
space that Joseph had endured had probably been the most frightening
part of their plan...but she knew why he had to keep most of it secret
from her, just in case that `John' character could hear his
communications.  She didn't hold it against him now, but it had
frightened her to watch his apparent death.
 
     So, she mused, she was a very -safe- vixen on a mostly-uninhabited
tropical island which happened to have an annoying habit of flying about
at a high altitude.  There were at least three other Mobians here,
so there had to be some sort of shelter, food and water available
to them so that, at the very least, the native animals could survive.
The weather seemed to be holding for the time being, so she did have
some time on her hands to find Joseph and establish somewhere to camp
for the duration of the evening...she wasn't going to assume that this
`Guardian' was going to have any sort of setup like the one she had
recently departed.
 
     She walked along the beach, looking for tracks or a potential
path to follow.  As she continued to walk, she looked out over the
lip of the beach constantly, still amazed at seeing how high she was.
There must be a very powerful Chaos Emerald at work here, she pondered,
perhaps even the `Ia' to Joseph's `Mob'.  After all, even her rudimentary
12th grade earth science course had told her that there was no natural
structure that could float and skim over the waves in a southwesterly
direction without some sort of hover assembly supporting it...and when
she listened for the tell-tale whine of them, all she heard was wind
and the sounds of birds in the jungle.
 
     After a few minutes, she saw a cleared area of the forest that
had an ancient-looking stone path leading into the island proper
that extended a few feet into the beach.  Deciding that this would
be the best place to begin searching, she walked onto it and into
the darkened jungle, believing she was ready for just about anything.
 
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     But, on the opposite side of Mobius...
 
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     The Solstice had came and went, as did the last gasp of the war
that had taken almost two decades to complete.  The dead were
beginning to be buried in places of honor, speeches spoken and wounds
healed.  All was finally beginning to become what it should, after all
the years of conflict, loss, and bloodshed.
 
     From the hidden villages, they slowly walked, heading to the
smoking ruin that had once been Mobitropolis, carrying their
tools without word or proclaimation, knowing that there was work
to be done.  They organized, fell into groups, and soon arrived on
the outskirts of the city only days after the final battle.
The masses paused outside the smoking, flaming ruin; then walked
into it without fear...beginning the long process of demolition,
salvage, and repair.  A tent city was constructed in the Great
Meadow to feed and house them when they needed a respite from their
struggles, lit brightly with fires of a more natural sort.
 
     Within the center of this tent city, was a larger tent that
housed the current leaders of what remained of the resistance,
led by Sally as they had always been.  The mood was much lighter
than before, since all that was left to be concerned with would
be the demolition of the various factories and smoke-belching
siege engines that remained in the city.  And, since the main
computers had been successfully raided by the first strike team
in the Death Egg, a detailed map of every level of the city
was easily created from Robotnik's own blueprints.
 
     A plan was mapped out on how to clean up the city, going
from the fringes in rather than the center out; gas mains had
to be shut down first, as did the oil pipelines and various
other concerns so to insure everyone's safety.  Engineers and
the various experts in electronics and computing left were
assembled from villages around the world in order to finally
erase Robotropolis from the face of the world, and Sally wanted
to be sure there were no serious accidents or tragedies on this
momentous occasion in Mobian history.
 
     The plan was adjusted over a few days, while crews and
various refugees got organized in the tent city.  Finally,
after only the most essencial personnel had arrived, the
deconstruction of the city began.  Since this only
required the overseeing of the various team leaders,
Sally was fortunately able to attend to more immediate
domestic concerns; such as the reestablishment of a
communications infrastructure.
 
     David, thankfully, had made sure all the subspace equipment
needed for the small subspace network already assembled during
the last days of the war was functioning properly, so communication
between villages and outposts went smoothly only a few days
after the EM pulse had paralysed Mobius.  She smiled to herself
as she thought about how soon her people had shown themselves
able of self-defense.  Their fast action and the miraculous
activation of a virus by Joseph's last action had not only
saved their world, but possibly the entire galaxy.  Not bad
for a `backwater planet'!
 
     She walked smoothly through the tents on that tepidly warm
afternoon, weaving between techs and unskilled laborers of all
flavors and species.  They'd recently found the frequencies for
interplanetary `television', and Sally had noted how the news
channels seemed to depict Mobius with a mixture of amusement and
annoyance.  They were seen as a wild, uncivilized world
on the wrong side of the galaxy, lacking even the
basic necessities.  Of course, Mobius was still under
`protective isolation' until it got back on its feet,
which Sally was somewhat thankful for--at least she
wouldn't have to deal with reporters following her around
and misquoting her every word until after she'd created
a Royal Guard again to shield her from the Great Unwashed
of Alpha Centauri...
 
     After walking for a few minutes, she finally came back
to her own tent.  Sonic was, of course, crashed out on a
couch Sally had brought from Knothole for just that purpose.
Despite the fact that the couch was lumpy, the fabric on the
object itself was worn and torn in places, and that the wood
used to build it had been warped and broken in places, Sonic
seemed to get a good night's sleep on it.
 
     She walked behind it silently, not wanting to wake him.
Sonic had been wanting for sleep since the last day of active
battling; he hadn't been able to get Packbell before he
escaped, which bothered him to no end, and Joseph had been one
of his closest friends--despite the fact that they hardly
saw each other, the bond of blood between them seemed to be
Sonic's only prerequisite for a empathic, tight bond of friendship.
It seemed odd to her, but many things about Sonic did; she simply
accepted them for what they were without much argument.
The people loved him as he was; who was she to deprive them of
a worldwide hero?  She was just glad he hadn't taken up cigars.
 
     She walked to her desk and sat before it, looking out one
of the foggy plastic windows that had been hastily slapped onto
the side of the tent.  People were always seen mulling about
outside, always busy.  Everyone had put their full abilities
into the restitution of the city, which pleased her; the sooner
the black buildings and ozone left the city, the better.
If she never again saw another brown-black cloud of pollution,
in fact, it would be too soon.  However, at least the smog kept
the snow from falling, so it helped along cleanup efforts in its own
sort of backward way.
 
     Sally took out Nicole from her bootpouch, brushed some of
the dirt from its surface, and quietly began reciting her
daily journal into it.  Everything about this needed to be
remembered, she had sworn to herself, so nobody would ever
forget those who had fallen in battle...who had sacrificed
for the common good.
 
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     Outside, Tails walked about, feeling rather good about himself.
Every few minutes, he'd kick into a light hover just to satisfy his
own curiousity as to whether it was a delusion or not.  After all,
he had literally had to elevate Bookshire off the ground to prove to
him that he was able to fly again.  Some tests had shown that the
nerve fibers, which normally didn't do such things, had healed and
rewired themselves back to their old configuration to allow Tails to
fly about spontaneously.  Medical science couldn't logically explain
it, Bookshire had related to the others, but it was a wonderful surprise.
 
     Of course, Tails knew perfectly well why he had healed the
unhealable and flown against all odds; he had perfected the Perfect Art.
That had to be the reason...Joseph's spirit had walked him through the
last phase of his training before moving on to the next world, and he
was to be the last master of this sacred fighting style.  He was deeply
honored to be given such an important assignment, and praised his
old teacher whenever he flew...for Joseph had made him into a true fox.
 
     He looked at himself in a mirror when he passed by a relief tent,
grooming his headfur a bit.  No longer was he a pot-bellied little kit,
but a strong, tall, determined fox.  His eyes had sharpened from weeks
and weeks of attentiveness training, and his shoulders were broad and
muscular from his constant push-and-pull ups.  His entire upper body
was as organized and efficient as a machine, as the Perfect Art dictated;
`for the machine is what we intend to be when we are worthy' was the
quote from Grand Master Ch-ni'ch'voh, the creator of the `Claw' style
of fighting within said Art.  His lower body, however, was undoubtably
the hardest-worked area of his entire form.  It was barely an effort
to fly now, and he could carry heavy loads without strain for extended
periods of time.  He could curl, just with a tail, almost 10 kilos--
nearly a world record!  And as for his endurance and speed, he had
aspirations of one day being as fast as (or faster than!) Sonic.
Indeed, Tails had high hopes for himself, and had the strength of will
to do almost whatever he desired.
 
     Tails finished grooming and walked on.  His exercise and training
regimen was still unbroken, his dedication to the ritual now unflagging.
The fox felt that only by his constant vigilance could he successfully
maintain his current state, and even a momentary lapse could put him
back weeks, or even months.  That, and it gave him more energy to focus
on his studies, which were also moving along nicely.  He was able to
keep both his scholastic pursuits, his physical regimens, and his
extracurricular activities balanced due to Joseph's instruction on
the Perfect Art's way of living...Tails was, technically, the last
person left in the universe to follow those spartan Ur'thaen ways,
but it paid serious dividends.  Since his body was so well conditioned,
he could utilize less rest so to do the most in a day that he could.
He rose early and went to sleep late in the night, working to help
renew the city while taking time to study, practice, and meditate.
No wonder Joseph's people did so much, thought Tails, they had more
time to work!
 
     Today, however, most of the work was being handled by the pros,
leaving Tails a great block of open time to fill.  He had done his
allotted exercises for the day, his studies had been accomplished to
his satisfaction, and he usually preferred to meditate just before
he went to sleep at night.  The fox decided to take a tour of the
settlement that had been established as a temporary base of operations,
since he had not yet explored it all in his brief time present.
 
     He strolled down the main path that had been established,
peering at the various tents that had been constructed.  Some had
signs that specified what village of origin tended to accumulate
there, such as `Green Valley' or `Appleton'.  Others were set
aside for the wandering masses with no village to call their own
to rest, which were usually full.  Even a deroboticizer unit was
said to be being passed from one side of the tent village to the other
to restore the occasional straggling Worker-Bot that ended up
nearby after the last light in Robotropolis had been punched out.
It was a wonderful show of unity, Sally had said to him earlier,
to see all the races and villages of the continent unite for the
common good.  No fighting had taken place, no politicking, just
cooperation and hard work.  Tails had to smile.  If only it could
always be this way...
 
     Continuing along, he noticed Bunnie hard at work in the
mess tent, serving up food to the next available work-shift
with some other volenteers.  Several parties had to stay in
Robotropolis for long periods due to all the fires and immediate
problems that needed to be solved, and often entire villages
would be stationed in the city for 12-hour `nut-buster'
shifts.  When they got relieved, they immediately headed to the
mess tent (being quite hungry) and the shower areas (being quite
smelly).  If you were wise, you stayed out of the way for the
first few minutes while the largest, hardest-worked members
got what they needed and ran off.  Luckily, that was several
minutes ago, and only a few remained to be served.  Tails decided
not to bother the probably busy rabbit anyway and moved along.
 
     Besides the shower tents and further areas for villages to
temporarily resettle, there were multiple medical tents for those
unfortunate enough to be caught in something that they shouldn't
have...and, in the decadent city of Robotropolis, that happened
a great deal.  Things exploded, streets collapsed, buildings
crumbled, and live wires fell.  Tails didn't even want to peek
in the recovery area, imagining the horrors that could be within.
Bookshire and various other doctors and nurses were about in the
tents, and Tails decided not to bother them either.
 
     Tails moved along to the communications area, where the
subspace transponder and various viewers could allow those
convalescing or merely the bored to view programming from other
parts of the galaxy.  David had taken up a post there, and was
rather affable to conversation most of the time, so Tails
decided to break his silence and walk over to address him.
 
     "Hi, David!"
 
     The warp-speeding fox glanced up from his work at a console
and warmly grinned at Tails.  "Hello, brother.  How are you
this afternoon?"
 
     Tails pushed back some of his hair, sitting on a nearby box.
"Oh, I'm fine.  How are you?"
 
     David responded as usual.  "I am operating at optimum efficiency.
Any new developments?"
 
     "Nothing, really.  I've just been on light cleanup duty
lately; hauling garbage to the removal site, helping people
move things around, keeping an eye out for any SWATBots, nothing
remarkable.  You?"
 
     David gave a light nod and tapped something into the console.
"As expected, there are some minor technical glitches to be removed
from the communications network, but I believe it is primarily from
the severe RF interference that has taken place lately in the upper
atmosphere.  I believe that in under 3.48 days, I can isolate the
problems and begin finding ways of eliminating them."
 
     Tails looked at the console as David tapped into it.  "Gotcha.
Hear anything interesting out there?"
 
     David's glance met Tails' eyes when he spoke, a habit which he
had learned to be `polite' under Mobian custom and unspoken
physical nomenclature.  "I have witnessed approximately thirty million
distinct transmissions on several different frequencies in the past
twenty four hours, not all of them immediately decodable or processable
at this time.  Out of those transmissions, I have found about ten
thousand, three hundred and six which might be considered intriguing
to myself, while there would be according to the criteria I have
observed you utilizing roughly five hundred and forty nine that you
might find that would hold your attention."
 
     Tails blinked.  "Uh, okay."
 
     "You did ask a rather broad inquiry, brother."
 
     The organic fox chuckled, patting David on the shoulder.
"Good point."  He looked around.  "Busy?"
 
     David paused for a moment.  "No."
 
     "Well then, why don't you show me around this place?  Looks like
you have just a bunch of neat electronics lying about to study."
 
     David straightened up and `smiled' in a mimic of Tails' own face.
"Very well.  Let me give you the basics..."
 
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     Sandra walked through the dark jungle, the moonlight just
penetrating enough to light the path that stretched ahead of her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she occasionally spotted larger
creatures mulling about, but for some reason they stayed well away from
the slight foot path that snaked through the jungle as if they had been
behind a fence, not daring to torment her.  She found this reassuring,
to a certain extent, but she wondered how this balance was maintained.
Magick?  Ancient alien technology?  Not-so-ancient alien technology?
Psychic phenomena?  Selective breeding?  A newspaper on the muzzle?
 
     The vixen sighed, continuing to pad along the path with no good
answers.  A little knowledge was an annoying thing, especially after
all she'd seen.  Before, she would have written off all of what she'd
seen in her life as `magick' or `technology', with a very thick line
between the two fields.  Hovercars were `technology', dragons were
`magick'.  However, after being exposed to Keld'yrians and their
psychic powers, godless Ur'thaen super-science, pure, unadulterated
divine power from Chaos Emeralds, martial arts that defied the basic
laws of physics at times, and her own basic knowledge of Mobian
common wisdom caused her much confusion when trying to quantify
what she saw around her as one thing or the other for classification.
Was Joseph using magick or psychic powers to levitate that rock?
Is that badger over there using ancient technologies to mask himself in
shadows, or is it just incredibly refined ninjitsu?  She had finally
came to the conclusion that she had consumed too much knowledge to be
considered mentally `healthy' any longer, so simply tried to accept
whatever happened around her as outright magick, nothing more.
This had done wonders for her occasional migraine headaches.
 
     She kept walking along, humming to herself reassuringly.
Sandra was becoming increasingly unsure of herself in this alien
environment, lacking any sense of direction or any means of defense.
The path might lead her to a trap, or she could be going in circles
for all she knew.  She was about to turn right around and go back to
the beach when she detected a very faint fire in the distance through
the jungle, perhaps in a clearing.  Thankful for any sign of intelligent
life, she rushed along the rock-paved path towards the light.
 
     A few minutes later, she reached the edge of the jungle, finding
herself in a flat, parklike area of land in a valley around a distant
mountain.  (Perhaps a dormant volcano? thought Sandra...she immediately
dropped that train of thought for her own good.)  A hut was nearby,
and in an area beside it was a large fire.  A pot of something
was cooking over it, and in front of the fire sat Joseph and a red
anteater-like creature with very large paws.
 
     Sandra sauntered over slowly, memory drifting up into the
foreground of her mind.  A very long time ago, it seemed, she had
been following a figure much like that as it wandered around Knothole.
Could this be the same individual?
 
     As she drew closer, she could hear Joseph talking quietly to
Knuckles about something, gesturing with his paws occasionally.  He
was still wearing that large dark robe, the hood still up to mask his
head in shadow.  Only the orange fur of his paws and the end of his
muzzle was visible, the fire catching his eyes occasionally with
a spark...he seemed to glance towards her for a moment, then looked
back to the echidna.  "...and this is my mate, Sandra.  Sandra, this
is Knuckles, the Guardian of the majority of the Chaos Emeralds."
 
     Knuckles, smiling a bit, nodded to Sandra.  "'ello, lady.  'm
Knuckles, like Solaris sez.  'ardon de accen', I haven't spoke
Common Mobi'n in years."
 
     Sandra returned the happy expression with one of her own,
sitting down on a nearby rock next to Joseph.  "Charmed..."
She paused for a moment, deciding to fufill her curiousity.
"Pardon my curiosity, but were you the same...?"
 
     Knuckles nodded.  "Yah, 'e asked dat too.  I wen' to the
mainlan' a while ago."  He paused, looking thoughtful.  "Is it
always dat col'?  How does anything -grow- in dat, man?"
 
     Joseph put up a paw.  "I'll explain later, Knuckles.  Suffice
it to say, the mainland has very interesting weather patterns that
vary according to the time of year.  Unlike this lovely island,
the weather is not basically the same every day."
 
     Knuckles nodded.  "Alright.  Well, anyway, 'e can tell you later
about 'ow I got there, because I don' wanna talk about it.  Gettin'
back was more interestin'."
 
     Joseph stirred the pot with a stick, swirling the steaming
substance around within it.  "You didn't tell me about that yet..."
 
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     "Alright.  So I'm jus' gettin' out of all that white cold stuff
that was all over de forest flo', mindin' my own business, an' I
see dis big black thing walkin' aroun' by da edg' of de forest.
Bein' a curious kin'--Dad always warn'd me about stuff like dis--I got
close enuff to get a good look."
 
     "Man!  You woulda thought I said somethin' about its mom!
Like greas' lightnin', it turns on me, raising its arm and yellin'
`'ALT FRE'DOM FI'TER!'' at me, firin' this red light.  I ain' stupid,
tho, so I get up and run like 'ell.  I stop fo' a bit t' rest after
I get clear, and suddenly there's like a hun'red of these things
shootin', all screamin' `'EDGE'OG PRI-OR-I-TY 'NE!'' and firin' that
same damn red light.  So I go and take off again, right?  I mean,
everythin' gets tired and gotta quit for a minute?"
 
     "Not dese guys.  I jus' keep runnin' an' runnin', just
haulin' some through the entire damn world, and they keep after
me on some sorta flyin' thing that dey stan' on and keep shootin'
the red stuff at me.  They shoot like ol' guys walk, tho', so I'm
still cool.  But I'm gettin' pretty close to the ocean by now--
Knuckles ain't a slowpoke like most y'all, he's got de Speed
like his dad and grand-dad--so I start thinkin' of how to ditch
these fellahs before I have to start swimmin'."
 
     "So, I'm thinkin', `Maybe I can knock de wind outa dem if I
nail 'em nice and har'.', and I see this nice flat stretch o' lan'
to work with right ahead...an' so I give it a go.  I get t' a
straightshot, turn har', and spin at 'em.  I must've hit the first
one too har', because I split it in two!  That got the rest of 'em
mad, so they really start in on it and try 't surroun' me."
 
     "I thin', `Dese fellahs ain' too bri't, are dey?' and keep
at 'em, spinnin' through 'em.  Soon, I got all of 'em scattered
t' bits, an' I start pokin' around to see what dey are.  I knew
dey weren't normal fellahs like you or me by how dey acted, so
I thinkin' dey like gargoyles or somethin'...yanno, like in de
stories, where they are livin' but madea rock.  These guys got
all this smelly oil in 'em and wires, tho, so I dunno what
made 'em funny like dat.  Anyway, I get m'self one of their heads
to poke at when I get hom', and start buildin' a boat."
 
     "Took me a coupla minnits, but I got m'self a nice sailboa'
put all t'gether usin' leaves and sticks.  Good t'ing I went through
a jungle t' get stuff, else I'd still be over there.  Anyway, I'm
abou' t' cast off when de head I got starts t' act funny.  It's beepin'
and all that stuff like it was still on one o' dem big metal suits.
I give it a good ol' kick and it stops; but then that red light starts
comin' down from the sky.  Turns out a big ol' flyin' thing must've
been passin' over, saw all the mess, and got real mad."
 
     "Now I'm -really- inna fix.  I jump outa da boat and head fo'
cover, tryin' t' see if that nasty flyin' thing will slow down 'nuff
for me to try 'n break it.  Sho'nuff, it eventually did, lookin' 'round
inna forest to fin' where I hid.  Snuck up behin' it and kicked in da
door, den spinned the metal things."
 
     "I look 'round, thinkin' of how t' get back to my boat from way up
inna air when it hits me that I'm standin' in a big people-movin' thing.
How d'ya steer, tho, is what's on my min', so I go t' the front and
star' actin' like the metal-things did.  Smack inta a couple trees,
almos' crashed once, but after a bit I get it all together and start
cruisin' home."
 
     "After a few hours, I get m'self back t' the islan'...and I had
t' do some secret stuff I ain' willin' to discuss outside of me an'
Solaris, lady, but that's the jist of it."
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     Joseph sampled some of the mixture boiling in the pot.  "That's
quite an adventure," he said, adding a pinch of some sort of spice.
 
     Sandra blinked.  "Indeed.  I wonder why they thought you were
Sonic...?"
 
     Knuckles shrugged.  "Eh, well, I ain' no `pri-or-i-ty 'ne
hedge'og', lady.  I'm just an e-chid-na."
 
     Joseph produced some bowls from his side.  "Yes, well, we can
all continue getting to know each other after..."  He looked up.
"This would probably be breakfast.  Very early."
 
     Sandra's stomache rumbled softly, all the activity making her
quite hungry all of the sudden.  "And what are we having today, love?"
 
     Joseph started serving.  "You'll like it."
 
     Sandra hmmed.  "Why do I have the feeling I won't?"
 
     "Because you're paranoid," stated Joseph, giving Knuckles a bowl.
"Trust me."
 
     "The last time you said I'd `like it', you had to give me an
antidote..."
 
     "Yes, well, this will be different."
 
     "You said that the second time you said I'd like it."
 
     "I mean it this time."
 
     "You meant it the third time, too."
 
     Knuckles started sucking back some of the mixture from the bowl,
appearing to enjoy it while the two went back and forth.  A small
smile crossed his face as the Solaris' mate continued to be distrustful
of the lovely vegetable stew he'd made earlier.
 
     "Look," said Joseph, "it's honestly quite harmless.  All of it
is made from 100% Mobian vegetables.  There aren't any alien compounds
in it at all.  Those are what made you ill, tho I still don't know why."
 
     Sandra folded her arms and hrumphed.  "Because they were almost
completely toxic!"
 
     Joseph bahed.  "I can eat Neutronian Hot Onion Streudel without
so much as a episode of gas.  You get -one- bite of a heavily
marinated and boiled -mild- Neutronian onion, and you get nauseous."
 
     She smirked.  "I can't help it if the average Mobian fox can't
handle toxic and vile mixtures without becoming sick, Joe."
 
     Joseph gestured at Knuckles, who was asking for seconds.
"Well, -he- is eating it."
 
     Sandra sniffed at her bowl.  "This is completely native?"
 
     "Yes."
 
     The vixen smirked again.  "There's nothing from the moon or
anything in it, right?"
 
     Joseph shook his head.  "Not a thing."
 
     She giggled softly.  "You're sure?"
 
     He sighed.  "Just eat the damn stew, for Goddess' sake."
 
     Sandra took a breath and slammed some back.  A moment passed as
she appraised what she'd drank, and then she smiled.  "This is good."
 
     Joseph's expression became somewhat jovial, finishing his.
"It should be.  He made it."
 
     Sandra laughed.  "And you made me go through all of that when it
wasn't your semi-toxic cooking?!  Males!"
 
     Knuckles just shook his head, having more of his stew just as
Sandra was taking another gulp.  "Should I tell 'er about de termites
'n maggots I added fo' flavor, Solaris?"
 
     Almost on cue, she spit out her stew into the fire and started
gagging.  Joseph, in the meantime, continued to drink the soup.
"I wondered why it had that zing to it."
 
     "You did -what-?!" gasped Sandra, feeling quite ill.
 
     Knuckles nearly fell onto his back laughing.  "Haw!  De -look- on
yo' face!  Kiddin', lady, kiddin'!"
 
     Sandra still looked sick.  "That's it.  I'm only eating take-out
from now on."
 
     "Pizza delivery doesn't come to the South-Eastern Hemisphere much,
Sandra." stated Joseph, wiping his mouth.  A smirk, Sandra noticed,
was quite present.  Either he liked maggots and termites now, or he'd
been in on the joke.  No matter, she thought, she'd get him yet
regardless.  "But that was really poor form, Knuckles...making
Sandra spit out some perfectly good stew.  Honestly."
 
     Knuckles kept giggling as Sandra sighed, pushing away the rest
of her bowl.  "Ahh, c'mon, dat was perfect."
 
     Joseph put a paw on Sandra's shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.
"She's had a hard few days.  You've got to give her some time to
become adjusted."
 
     Knuckles got himself under control.  "'kay, 'kay.  Sorry lady.
Didn' mean any 'arm."
 
     Sandra smiled faintly.  "That's alright.  I'll get even with
you two later."
 
     Joseph chuckled.  "Be afraid."
 
     Knuckles bahed, returning to his eating.  His social graces were
rather lacking, thought Joseph, but he must be Guardian for some
reason besides simple heredity.  He'd have to probe into this later.
For now, however, he'd content himself with shooting the ch'voh.
 
     Sandra poked the fire with a stick.  "We're going to be here for a
while, aren't we Joe?"
 
     Knuckles finished his stew, serving himself for a third helping.
"Ain't 'is destiny t' go back yet.  Neither 's yours, lady.  You 'n him
gotta stay together."
 
     Joseph smiled a bit.  "Besides, we'd only be in the way right
now back there.  Many things are afoot that need to happen without
our intervention...we can't just keep controlling everything, you know."
 
     Sandra tossed the stick into the fire.  "I guess there are -worse-
places to be detained at..."
 
     Joseph sighed, for the first time seeming sad.  "And it's not like
I could just tap my dataglove, say `Bahb, two to teleport home.' and we
could be somewhere secure."  He sipped some more stew.  "Poor Bahb.
It died for me.  If only I could have done more..."
 
     "Bob?  Whozzat?"
 
     Joseph waved his paw dismissingly, trying to put on a casual facade.
"Oh, it was an intelligence I created back home.  A brilliant mind,
really, limited by what I could give it.  It destroyed itself to save
me and slay John."
 
     Knuckles shrugged.  "Oh, dat.  Saw the flas'.  Impressive."
 
     "I hope so...I don't want it to be forgotten.  It had as much of a
part in saving Mobius than anything else."
 
     Sandra stroked the back of Joseph's neck.  "I'm sure it won't be."
 
     "It's just that I never really told it goodbye..."
 
     Knuckles did his best to sound reassuring.  "Don' worry, Solaris.
'e prolly knew if you really did."
 
     Joseph's eyes caught the fire again.  "I guess.  Still, it's such
a loss to lose all of that knowledge, all of that work in one blow."
 
     "Aww, you still got da knowledge, Solaris.  You can do stuff
no scien'ist can do, and what you'll be able t' do ain't nuffin
t' sneeze at."
 
     Joseph put his bowl down by his foot.  "I'm tired of power.
I just want peace...everyone's deroboticized, the war's over,
John's dead, the _Apocolypse_ is no more..."  He smiled at Sandra,
putting an arm behind her shoulders.  "...and I want to settle down,
have a family, and start having a real life."
 
     Mmming softly, Sandra rested her head against Joseph's shoulder.
"I think I'd like that."
 
     Knuckles finished his final bowl of stew.  "You've got a long way
t' go yet, Solaris.."
 
     Joseph smiled, eyes lit from either the fire or his own
sheer will.  "I can handle it."
 
     "It'll be 'ard, man.  De entir' world'll seem like it's again'
you."
 
     "I'm ready.  I took down an entire spaceship solo, I can handle
anything that this planet can throw at me."
 
     Knuckles smiled softly.  He has spirit, he thought, which works
well with his skill.  But does he know caution?  Only time would tell.
"I 'ope so."
 
     "I -know- so," stated Sandra, getting fairly cozy.
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     A grey wolf strode down a long-abandoned path, the southern trade
wind whipping through its fur.  Its cloak fluttered as it began to walk
steadlily north, thousands upon thousands of miles to go before it could
end its timeless journey.
 
     The moon shone down upon him as he walked, the whistling of the
wind the only sound...
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     The sun shone down on her as she awoke, lying by the smoking
embers of the dying fire.  Again, Sandra opened her eyes without
company, Joseph and this `Knuckles' nowhere in sight.  Rubbing her
muzzle a bit, she rolled to her feet and stood, padding around aimlessly
to find some running water.
 
     Some investigation of the clearing took place, but soon Sandra
found an ancient-looking well behind the hut Knuckles called his own.
She vaguely remembered talk of Joseph beginning construction of a place
to live before she dropped off into slumber by him the previous night
after some further socializing, but details escaped her sleep-heavy
mind.  She turned the well's crank to bring up the bucket, working
on remembering what went on.  Sandra suspected that she was forgetting
something important...
 
     Bringing up the bucket, she filled a cup by the lip of the well
by submerging it in the container and drank it down hard.  The fresh
water refreshed her mind and made her feel awake, more so than any
sort of drink she'd ever had on the mainland; it seemed that the water
was `charged' somehow.  She resolved to inquire about it later, and
looked around for somewhere Joseph might have gotten off to.
 
     She walked around for a few moments, then discovered a path
on the far side of the clearing leading towards the mountain which
seemed to be a central feature of this Floating Island.  The vixen
stood back for a moment and considered this, then chose not to
second-guess her intuition and starting walking along the path...
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     But as the sun rose over the Floating Island, the sun set over
the Northern Continent, bringing with it the fires of cooking and
sleep for the day shift in Robotropolis.  The winds were still bitter
and the ground icy around the rest of the Continent, but around the
pollution-choked city it was not as physically challenging...since the
core of the city was usually so warm, it made the areas around it
appear to be in an eternal autumn.
 
     The night shift awoke and fed themselves, preparing for a long
night's work on ecological renewal and salvage.  They said farewell
to their young ones, strapped on their gear, and pressed into the
perimeter of the city on all sides; toxins and waste slowly being
dredged up and annhilated.  They had a long way to go, though.
 
     Sally left the continuing organization in the hands of others
for the night as she began to tire, leaving the main command structure
and heading back to her tent.  It had seemed like months since she had
slept at night, the majority of Freedom Fighter operations taking place
at that time for the advantage of cover.  Now, however, she had allocated
herself control over the daytime proceedings of the cleanup, permitting
the Princess blissful hours of rest without having to don a covering for
her eyes.  To some, this would be a minor luxury.  To her, however, it
was nearly decadently wonderful.  Such is a war on the mind.
 
     She walked past the mulling groups of people heading into the city,
weaving along with the flow leaving it.  Most of them were too tired to
even acknowledge her, and she didn't go out of her way to be social
because of this.  They were, in fact, dirty, tired and achy Mobians,
most of them injured in some way from the rust or toxins of the city,
and would be going right to the medical pavillion for antibiotics and
TLC.  They were the very heart of the moment, she pondered, but yet
they toiled without wish for reward or praise; they just wanted their
home back, and to forget about the war.  Sally did not blame them.
 
     She eventually made her way to the section given over to
`Knothole Village' after slowly moving out of the crowd, which was
almost without activity.  Most of Knothole had been given day shifts,
the rare few working at night already gone to prepare themselves.
A few were still in the communal showers, but most were fast asleep.
This pleased Sally to some extent; she was too tired to talk, eat
or do anything else but throw some water on herself, straggle back
to her tent, and pass out for as long as she could.
 
     Sally dragged herself to the showers, going into the end
denoted for females, and took off her vest.  It was soaked with
sweat, she noticed immediately, probably because she'd been in
and out of Robotropolis the whole day.  Mildly disgusted by it,
she threw it over an empty chair and put her boots neatly next to
the damp garment.
 
     She turned on the water and blasted herself with cold water.
Running water, now there was a godsend...they hadn't had that in
Knothole until she was nearly thirteen, when Rotor had done it as
something to kill a Sunday afternoon.  Funny that she thought of
that now...it had been many years and many battles since then.
Perhaps she was beginning to miss the endless war between her
people and Robotnik's kind; it had been her life for so long,
she barely remembered at times why they had fought Robotnik to
begin with.
 
     Robotnik...it has been long since any had said that name
in relation to current events, but yet everyone still felt the
war was about defeating Robotnik.  Snively had merely been a
go-between for Robotnik's demise, most had figured, and Packbell
was his own `son'...but it was all about Robotnik, because he
had been the one that had hurt them the longest.  And now,
most people felt, Robotnik had been vanquished for good...
but Sally wouldn't be happy until every last blackened stone
had been cast into the abyss, never to be seen by another Mobian
until the end of time.
 
     The rush of the initial victory had faded, though...she knew
she had to organize the world and unite it under one government,
and Sally knew that was something that wouldn't take a great deal
of effort now...but...then what?  Her father was still trapped in
the Void, and the rest of the world needed to be renewed.  Who
knew if there would be another extraterrestrial threat?  What if
something horrible and unstoppable like the _Apocolypse_ came
around again, without a kamikaze Joseph to stop it?
What of her people then?
 
     She washed herself silently, these thoughts racing through
her fevered mind.  She knew that if there was another problem,
she would have to lead the world against it without a twinge of
fear in her eyes...but she was afraid.  Afraid of failure at the
critical moment, afraid of losing more people to death's icy
embrace, afraid of watching what she had fought for all her life
turn to ashes.
 
     The hiss of the showerhead and the pressure of the water
gradually began to soothe her, the fearful thoughts of defeat
slipping away.  Sally had to allow her mind to find its center,
keep herself under control.  She was the one thing holding the
entire planet together, she could not allow herself to fall into
paranoia and madness.  Literally, the entire world lived or died
at her command now, the lines of communication being as they were.
She had the power.  Her people were strong.  She had nothing to fear.
 
     Or did she?
 
     That thought plagued her as she finished cleansing herself,
drying herself with a few towels.  Could she fight Robotnik if he
came back right now, having an army of SWATBots behind him?
Would her people fight at her side, or would they scatter like leaves?
She could never know until it actually happened, Sally believed, but
as her father said to her once when she was only a toddler,
"Strong leadership make a country strong, weak leaders make countries
wither."  She had to be strong as her people, her workers, were strong.
Sally prayed she had the courage for that...it had taken all of her
resolve at the time to have another Mobian--a murdering, traitorous,
thieving, underhanded scoundrel who had betrayed the entire world--
killed.  Could she order thousands to their deaths for the good of the
world if she needed to?
 
     She put on a fresh vest and wrapped the other in a towel, carrying
it back to her hut to be washed.  Sally tried to put these thoughts
from her mind again.  It was no good bemoaning what had already occurred.
She needed to look only to the future to keep her center whole.
 
     She entered her hut.  Sonic had apparently had been up earlier,
then had returned to his usual sleeping place on that ratty couch.
He was allowed a convienent schedule by the majority because he tended
to be around at just the right times to make him appear like he never
slept.  He'd be up and down all night, racing here and there, never
refusing a Mobian in need.  Sonic would be scouting a future
excavation site one minute and watching someone's kits the next,
then would be back napping on his couch before anyone would notice.
The hedgehog was a hero to the people, and most likely he'd end up
their King...once Sally had enough time to arrange a proper marriage.
 
     However, the hedgehog had not once brought up the topic.  Maybe
he didn't know how to, maybe he simply hadn't considered it.  Sally
had given up trying to get into Sonic's head a long time ago; he was
too random and impulsive to box into one frame of behavior or the other.
She just hoped he'd propose to her one day; they loved each other,
she knew that.  It was just getting Sonic to vocalize it that was the
hardest part.  She'd said she loved him a few times, and by reflex he'd
said it back, but he'd never quite initiated anything vocal about his
supposed love or anything else regarding the topic.
 
     Of course, that was another area that would probably be alien to
him, and she wasn't exactly the most brilliant mind on the topic, either.
She wanted to put it off for as long as possible, at least until she'd
gotten married, because she was a little wary about it.  Certainly she
had considered it; she was a healthy young squirrel, after all, and
her various friends had filled in the grey areas for her unconsciously
whenever the subject was brought up.  But her very prim and upright
upbringing had lasted her most of her adult life, and she practiced
constant self-denial `for the good of her people' to begin with.
That, and she doubted Sonic had any clue about it either.
 
     She smiled faintly as she walked by the couch where the hedgehog
slept, used plates and cans of soda laying around him in semi-organized
piles.  Sonic always seemed like a big kid to her, seemingly innocent
despite all the misery and pain he'd ran through.  He rarely wanted
for a smile, and a joke usually rested behind his lips.  He cared about
people and seemed to have true empathy for people in need, and never
hesitated to help others.  He warmed to people quickly, and he had
certainly grown on her...even Joseph, a completely alien being with
little to nothing in common with him, had been considered by him to
be `cool', for no real reason besides a mutation.  Sally knew he'd
always be there for her...but as her mate, or as a friend?
 
     She brushed back her hair, walking to a somewhat enclosed part
of the tent where her cot had been stationed.  Sally would worry
about the fate of Mobius and her romantic status later.  Right now,
all she really needed to do was to sleep for a few hours to clear
her mind and get herself focused again on her pressing goals;
block #19014 had some sort of toxic waste spill in it that needed
to be handled, and the Willowdale compound needed additional medical
supplies...and, with those thoughts, she laid down and fell into a
deep, dreamless sleep.
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     She'd been walking for most of the morning, Sandra noted to
herself as she reached the foot of the mountain, and she still
wasn't very tired at all.  It seemed that no matter how hard she
ran or worked, she always had a little more energy to work with.
The raven-black vixen took this as an effect of the fair weather,
dismissed it, and chose to follow the ancient, winding stone
path up the mountain.  She had a feeling she'd find Joseph and
the Guardian up there, doing something interesting without her.
 
     The path ran along the mountain in a spiral, probably leading
through the clouds to the summit.  As she walked, she noticed the
very nature of the environment change; at first, it was grassy,
then slowly became more rocky, then finally began to show signs of
snow as the hours passed.  She still wasn't very tired or hungry;
the exertion and her own active mind kept her thoughts away from
herself.
 
     The noon hour came, and Sandra's trek finally broke the
cloudline about a half-mile from the summit.  The view, to say the
least, was spectacular.  She paused to look over the endless seas
and down through the clouds before continuing on, walking steadily
upward.
 
     Sandra hit the summit far too early by her estimation, setting
foot on the snowy top about halfway through the afternoon.  She gazed
out, being able to spot the entire island and far beyond from there.
The clearing from where she had came seemed like a dot, and for a
moment she had a serious case of vertigo...she staggered, bumping
her head against a rope ladder suspended in the air.  The vixen
glanced up...
 
     ...and for the second time in two days, she was surprised.
 
     A large rock seemed to be floating above her, invisible to
her before as she climbed, with a ladder hanging off the side.
She just looked at it for a few seconds before choosing to climb the
ladder to investigate.  Even if she didn't find Joseph, she'd have
an interesting story to tell him later.
 
     The ladder was quite long, and she realized by this that the
`rock' was quite large.  In fact, it was almost as wide as the
mountain and probably almost as expansive.  She dared not look down,
the height at that point far too great for her to comfortably deal
with.  With some relief, she finally pulled herself onto the
mini-island and walked briskly from the edge.
 
     It seemed to her to be a sort of a park, with small trees and
bushes about for a neatly-landscaped touch.  A path led towards
the center of the mini-island, which she took without question;
it seemed to make sense, after all.  There were very few clouds
at that altitude, and by her reasoning it should have been quite
windy and cold...but it felt almost springlike in temperature,
and the breeze was almost unnoticable.  Overall, it was very
pleasant and peaceful...she wondered what its purpose was.
 
     She followed the path for a few hours and finally encountered
a structure about the size of a three-story building that appeared
to be some sort of temple.  It was pyramidal in shape, and the
structure was made out of onyx-like stone by how it felt to her
discerning touch.  It was occasionally highlighted with polished,
non-greened bronze, and it had tall columns around its front at the
top of a flight of stairs.  It also sported a few large openings
in it near the top for windows, it seemed, and probably for air
circulation.  A main door was open in the very center,
leading into the darkened place.  She stopped for a moment to
listen and heard some sort of motion inside the area, so she
chose to press on.
 
     Walking into the pyramid, she noticed that it appeared quite
larger on the inside than it did on the outside.  The floor and
interior were also done out in this black stone, and her walking
made quiet clicking sounds which echoed off the walls eerily.
Light spilled in from the roof at odd angles, highlighting the
apparently empty structure in a strangely appropriate way.
Perhaps, she thought, this place was a monestary or a place of
meditation rather than an area for general worship.
 
     She kept walking, soon reaching the very center of the hollow
pyramid.  Sandra looked up to the very top, noting the way the light
flowed in.  The vixen suddenly realized she had spent an entire day
walking without breakfast, and fully realized she was not hungry
or tired for the first time.  An irrational flush of terror swept
through her for a moment after that entered her mind as she
comprehended her altitude, and suddenly she wanted to be held.
Held, she thought, very closely, in Joseph's lap, on the ground,
in the Dome, having a cup of coffee and sitting in a comfortable
chair, talking about the weather.  She thought she would cry, and
staggered a bit; heel pressing down on a plate that activated
something within the temple itself.
 
     The floor beneath her feet trembled.  She skittered back in
terror as the floor in the spot she had stood seemed to unravel,
spiralling downward below the temple.  A hiss of air shot out from
below as it continued, stirring up a small cloud of dust and
shaking the light a bit.  A few seconds passed this way, then
it ceased abruptly, leaving Sandra confused and alarmed.
 
     She walked over to investigate, looking down.  A series of
spiral steps led down several stories by her estimation towards
a light of some sort.  Activity was again heard below, and she
could almost swear she could pick out Joseph talking to something.
Gathering her nerve, she quickly ran down the steps, hoping the
process wouldn't start running in reverse in the middle of her
trip.
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     Leaping off the last stair, Sandra found herself in a large
spherical chamber, apparently some sort of control center.  The
walls were smooth, polished white crystal, and glowed dimly with
its own light.  It seemed to be about half the width of the
mountain itself, columns sticking from floor to ceiling in a similar
style as those outside except for their white color.  She noticed two
figures around a console of some sort in the middle of the room,
and immediately began running towards them, just wanting some sort
of explaination or comfort at that point.
 
     It was indeed Joseph, still wearing his covering vestiment, and
Knuckles, who was also unchanged from before, who were standing
around a circular console designed for someone of Knuckles'
height.  Text in a foreign tongue scrolled in a holographic
display for Joseph in a blur, which Joseph was apparently reading.
Logically enough, Knuckles seemed to be working the console.
 
     "'ey lady," Knuckles distractedly said, running his wide,
muscular paws over the console's controls, "You were 'sleep, so
we jus' wen' ahead and got t' work.  Sorry we didn' leave a note."
 
     Sandra seemed, justifiably, angry.  "I was scared something might
have happened.  How was I supposed to know you were going to be -here-?!"
 
     Joseph kept reading, but spoke obviously to Sandra.  "I'm sorry,
love, but I didn't know I had this many messages."
 
     Sandra blinked.  "Messages?  From who?"
 
     The robed fox muttered, still reading the text.  "My predecessors,
the previous Solarii.  Apparently, I have much to do."
 
     She flicked her tail.  "What could you possibly have to do?
The echidna civilization was said to have died out millions of years
ago."
 
     The text stopped.  Joseph stood for a moment in silence, mulling
something over.  Sandra asked again.  "What could you do for them?"
 
     He turned towards her, face masked in shadow.  He leaned on his
staff, paws holding it firmly.  Carefully, he spoke.
 
     "I must go on a great quest through time and space, my love.
It may take longer than you could ever live, and the danger involved
is beyond anything you could imagine.  Time travel itself is
hazardous and full of pitfalls, and any mistake or fault in
judgement could irrepairably damage the very nature of reality,
but this is an epic quest that purposely puts me in the direct
line of fire of history."
 
     The fact of the matter didn't quite hit her yet.  "For what,
Joseph; what could be worth this risk?"
 
     "I must find the four pieces of the Kingmaker that are scattered
through Mobius' history and reassemble it, and use it in the coming
battle..."
 
     Realization crept across her features.  "`Kingmaker', Joseph?"
 
     He looked at her steadily.  "The Sword of Mobius, my love."
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     Sandra blinked, in shock.  "But Joseph, that sword doesn't exist.
It's a myth..."
 
     Joseph shook his head slightly.  "No, it is quite real...it is an
incredibly powerful artifact of the echidna civilization, the ultimate
synthesis of technology and magick.  If it were to fall into the wrong
hands, it would mean the end of everything...used correctly, though,
it could heal, save lives, set things right."
 
     Sandra put a paw to her right temple and rubbed.  "So you're telling
me that the legendary Sword of Mobius--your `Kingmaker'--is real."
 
     He simply nodded, speaking.  "And that would mean the mythical
battle between the wizard and the demon that supposedly brought an
end to the echidna civilization--what they found in a few isolated glyphs
a few years back, far before the coup--actually took place, which is
why they all but disappeared from the world."
 
     Sandra blinked slowly.  "I'm afraid I didn't know about that.
I was never much for ancient history; my knowledge primarily lies
with precious relics from the pre-modern Mobian period."
 
     "Ah.  Well, pardon if I speak with familiarity, but I did a lot
of catching up in prehistory during the day.  I'll have to explain
more about them later."
 
     Sandra scratched her head.  "Tell me of this legend."
 
     Joseph leaned back a bit, gathering his words.  "It's long."
 
     Sandra flicked an ear.  "I have time."
 
     "Very well, but you were warned..."
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     "It was in the last days of the echidna period on Mobius that
these events start to unfold.  As you know, they were a very modern
civilization by our standards, easily centuries ahead of current
Mobian technological prowess, and they had mastery of magick as well.
Not only did their ships cruise around the solar system and their
people live for centuries, but they controlled the very rhythms
of the planet; down to how much rain fell and when the first
flower of spring sprouted.  Indeed, they ruled completely, Mobius
the jewel of their empire."
 
     "Curiously, it would seem that later civilizations on Mobius
patterned themselves after them; they were primarily ruled by a single
king, whose line had been in power for millenia--"
 
     She blinked again.  "Millenia?  How -old- was this civilization,
Joseph?"
 
     Joseph paused.  "I...I don't know.  Their earliest records were
said to have been almost to the time of the first sentinent primates
by my estimation.  They may have been the very first."
 
     Sandra stood slightly amazed.  Joseph continued.  "Anyway, it was
ironically only the events of a single night that caused their entire
empire, aeons old, to crumble and scatter to nothingness..."
 
     Knuckles ahemed.  Joseph looked over apologetically.  "Oh, pardon.
It wasn't entirely destroyed.  I'll explain later in the narrative."
 
     "Getting back to the point," he continued, "one of their scientists,
a part-time magus named `Fists-of-Rock', was beginning to experiment
with the possibility of `technomagick', a synthesis of mystick Chaos
Emerald power and mundane echidna technology..."
 
     "I thought their technology -was- magick." stated the vixen.
 
     "Not exactly.  Echnida technology is rather straightforward for
the most part, only -seeming- to be magick.  A scientist and a mage
in those days weren't exactly ones to be talking shop together, since
their fields were both highly specialized and vastly different.  It
was part of their religious beliefs that magick was a sacred thing,
while technology was only a means to an end.  For the most part,
this worked rather well for them."
 
     "Fists-of-Rock, however, had a different idea.  He was a visionary;
he felt that by merging their technology with their magick, they could
double their abilities and bring peace and wisdom to all species, not
merely the currently advanced echidnas.  He experimented with both
spheres, looking into some way to make a fusion between the two...
finally, after many decades had passed, he found the keys; a spirit."
 
     "A spirit?"
 
     "Yes...by harnessing a friendly spirit to serve as a `mediator'
between the magick and the technology, a technomagickal device could
be forged.  It took a great deal of time, however, and the first time
he did it was the only time it was ever done..."
 
     Joseph looked at her.  "You wish to know why, I know.  Allow me
to set the scene for you."
 
     "Fists-of-Rock was working hard in his laboratory on an evening
of a triple lunar eclipse, the dim glow from the Chaos Chamber on
T'ch'ci'ch'lan--the mountain in which they kept the Chaos Emeralds--
illuminating his windows.  He had set the summoning circle around
his computer, begun the complicated ritual, and activated the welcoming
program.  Fists hoped to bring in a benign wood-spirit from the glen
nearby his estate, or perhaps a spirit of the wind...however, this
was not to be."
 
     "The circle caught fire with dark flame, a sign of an evil
spirit moving into the area.  He frantically moved to shut down the
process, but it was too late; the download, as it were, had begun.
Helplessly, he saw the very face of Ch'ch'la--their main evil spirit--
manifest on his monitor screen.  He unplugged the computer, shut down
the power, and went to attack the machine directly when it struck out
with bursts of static.  The spirit had found new abilities in the
machine, and was already learning more about how to cause destruction
as Fists-of-Rocks was cast against a wall, knocked unconscious."
 
     "While Fists laid in a stupor, the spirit lept from machine to
machine, wreaking havoc and slaying the innocent spirits of those
it had killed, taking their soul-energy and using it to power its
night of carnage.  Magick alone couldn't stop it, technological
countermeasures were struck down like paper houses...the echnidas
were defenseless.  Soon their entire capital city was overrun, the
populace running in terror from poltergists the spirit had brought in
to further increase its iron grip on the city."
 
     "Things were not looking good.  As Fists came out of his
comatose state, he looked out the window and saw the burning city,
the bodies laying on the street in a pool of their own entrails, and
wept with remorse and shame at his actions.  He swore an oath, then,
to be the one that personally destroyed the evil spirit of darkness--
a `Solaris', a `bringer of light'."
 
     "So that's what the name means..."
 
     "Yes, Sandra, it was Fists-of-Rock, the first Solaris, that named
the rest of my kind of Guardian..."
 
     He took another breath.  "He decided that the only way to stop
something that neither high technology or high mystickism could
vanquish would be to harness the power of a Chaos Emerald, like a
legendary hero of echidna legend did once when the world was threatened
by the Sky-Plague...since the Master Emerald's energy was used to
spawn the creature he disgorged, since their `electricity' came from
its energy in the Chaos Chamber, he reversed the `charge' of the
power and forged a mighty sword to destroy the creature with...
the Sword of Mobius."
 
     "Outside, the world was in turmoil...machines, possessed by
evil, terrorized the great city of the echidnas, fires raging
across the horizon as the hours passed.  Millions died, so the
legends say, between the fires, attacks and general mayhem.
Blood ran like water through the streets, and it seemed like nothing
could stop it..."
 
     "With the rising of the sun, however, came a new hope.
Fists-of-Rock, charging the sword with anti-energy and programming
it with the most brilliant AI he could spawn, rushed into battle,
cutting a swath through the city as he fought his way towards the
core of the city, where his creation had taken root...and was about
to capture the Master Emerald for itself."
 
     "For ten days and ten nights, the legend states, the machine
possessed of evil fought the brave Solaris, oil and blood mingling
on the pavement below as the battle raged.  All the while, the
city kept crumbling, and the last few survivors grouped together
in an area far from the city to spare their own lives."
 
     "The last battle took place in the very core of the Chaos
Chamber, where the entirity of the entity manifested itself in a
swirling, pulsing column of steel and quintessencial energy,
slashing at the weakening echidna.  In a final, desperate move,
Fists-of-Rock summoned all of the power he could and cleft the
Master Emerald in two, obliterating the entity, his sword, and
himself in a pulse of energy that successfully went on to lay waste
to the rest of the city and caused catyclismic disasters for
months afterward all over the world."
 
     "As the initial explosion faded, the Master Emerald began
to swirl, seperated into two equal parts.  The flush of reverse
energy caused a backlash, making one Emerald into an opposite
of the other; thus, why Mob and Ia are seperated but equal.
The rest of the Emeralds realigned themselves around the two
crystals, creating a perfect octet.  It began to repair the area
around itself and to seal the Chamber off from the rest of the
world to protect itself and others from any harm."
 
     "A year passed, and the last few echidnas returned to the
ruins of their city, now about a mile from the mainland due to
erosion and mysterious psychic phenomenon.  They resolved to
make sure nothing could ever do such destruction to the rest of
the world again, so they used what remained of their technology
and magick to make a fortress to protect the now eight Emeralds."
 
     "Opening the Chaos Chamber again, they began constructing
a mighty technological masterwork while putting in place magickal
safeguards to shield the island itself from harm.  They built
a cloaking device that has enabled the island to remain hidden
to the present day from those who would harm it, and forged a
biosphere on this island that foils a fast, direct assault.
They created deadly bioweapons who would attack anything alien
or wrong that entered the island, and trained a subrace of
super-echidnas--the first Guardians--to protect the Chaos Emeralds."
 
     "However, their truest monument to their skills was the
activation of the silent, mystical elevation of the island from
the water and above it to keep anyone from easily landing on it
and even concerning the Guardians, and setting it to sail
in random patterns across the globe.  To this day, it has not
failed or erred in navigation, and has always stayed well out
of harm's way."
 
     "Then, after they insured that the Chaos Emeralds would
be safe, they left the Guardians to their work and set the island
off into the ocean, then themselves departed to--"
 
     "Solaris!"
 
     Joseph coughed.  "Well, they left is all you need to know, and
that is why we are here."
 
     Sandra assimilated all the information for a few moments after
Joseph finished speaking, then asked an elementary question.
"So, we're to retrieve this sword?  How?  It was destroyed, wasn't it?"
 
     Joseph paused and spoke, seeming to have just realized he'd
left out part of the story.  "Oh yes.  Fists-of-Rock, the first Solaris,
indeed killed the demon by striking a mighty blow and cleaving the
Master Emerald in two; this dispersed the evil, but it caused such a
horrible mystick backlash that it shattered the sword into four parts
and scattered them through time and space, and making the parts of it
seem to be something other than what they actually were to keep reality
intact.  And, as told before, it also had the effect of shattering the
Master Emerald, the true synthesis of Mob and Ia, and thus bringing
an end to echidna domination of the world..."
 
     Sandra was dumbfounded.  Joseph took the rare opportunity to
wrap up the story.  "The initial explosion killed off most that
remained, the energy residue slowly killing off half of those that
survived.  In their last lasting effort, they used the ruins of their
city as the foundation for the Floating Island and did all that
rigamarole I already mentioned, then sent it away.  As it sailed away,
the rest of the great city on the shore crumbled to dust, eradicated
by Emerald backlash."
 
     She blinked.  "But still, there was a race of Guardians; why is
only Knuckles left here?"
 
     Joseph was about to speak when Knuckles interrupted.  "None of
yo' buisness!"
 
     The wizard cleared his throat.  "Yes.  Well, anyway, I must
get this sword, my love, no matter what it takes."
 
     Sandra went to him and hugged his side softly.  "But we just
finished saving the world.  Why can't we just forget about this and
go off somewhere?  Why can't we just go to another planet?  I don't
want to lose you before I was even born!"
 
     He hugged softly back.  "It is my destiny to protect this world
from evil.  I'm the best one for the job."
 
     She gripped to him tightly.  "But I don't want to lose you!
Who knows how long you'll be out there, alone, fighting something
more powerful than anything else!?  What if you die, damn you?!
I won't go through that hellish torture of not knowing again!"
 
     Joseph continued to hold her.  "I won't be going for a while...
I still need to train myself, learn some ancient arts, brush up on
my history..."
 
     "I don't care!" she cried, tears pricking behind her eyes,
"I don't want you to go!"
 
     He stroked her headfur softly, pain in his eyes.  "I have to..."
 
     She held onto him for a while as tightly as she could.
Thoughts of dying alone and infirm spun through her head, filling
her with desperate courage.  Mindlessly, she blurted out, "Fine!
I'm going to go with you!"
 
     "No, no, I can't endanger you...this is--"
 
     The vixen snarled, holding onto him tightly.  "I AM going WITH
you!  If we die, we die together!  If we win, we win together!  I
refuse to let you march off into time without me, you damned fool!"
 
     He looked at her helplessly.  "But..."
 
     Her eyes met his, flaring rebelliously.  "No, Joseph!  We do
this together!"
 
     Knuckles, who had been silent, interrupted.  "I t'ink she wanna
go, Solar--"
 
     They both turned to face Knuckles and shouted, "QUIET!", then
returned to staring into each other's eyes.  The echinda recoiled.
 
     "Dammit, Sandra...!"
 
     Sandra tried to calm herself and make her argument sound logical.
"I will not let you go off for centuries by yourself, and I refuse
to sit here and wait for aeons for you, so I am going."
 
     He was silent for a while.  "You're sure you want to do this?"
 
     "Yes."
 
     Silence reigned in the cavern.  Knuckles shuffled his feet quietly.
 
     Joseph let out a quiet sigh.  "Very well.  *Both* of our training
begins tomorrow.  I hope you're ready to bust your tail for this, because
we don't have much linear time to deal with."
 
     Sandra's resolve didn't falter.  "If that's the way it is, that's
how we'll face this.  Together."
 
     He hugged her softly and kissed her on the forehead.
"You love me as much as I love you, I guess."
 
     She kissed him back.  "I do."
 
     He gestured with his paw and opened a small portal back to the
valley, putting his arm over Sandra's shoulder and walking her through
it, Knuckles trailing behind.  "I wonder if the past is ready for us...?"
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     Late Winter, The Year 221
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 
     A crystal ball swirled with the image of a robed fox
walking through a jungle.  A hand, icy and made mostly of steel,
reached out to lift it, and held it solidly in its palm.  The palm
tightened as a spectral orange glow surrounded the depected figure,
the fox laughing softly at something.  Angered, the palm squeezed
and shattered the globe into powder...and the sound of shattering
glass echoed in a cylinderical chamber made of cold, black stone...
 
     "You will pay, traitor..."
 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -