Chapter Text
It was a temperate night on the isle of New Robotropolis (the island formerly known as Westside Island), a gentle breeze rustling through the sable palms, carrying with it the smell of salt and sea.
The once lively and lush region now held only a few small towns that provided relative respite and safe harbor from the tyrannous rule of the Robotnik Empire. The regime had taken control of the island around three years ago under the command of Dr. Ivo Robotnik, a man of renowned genius who only sought to use his gifted mind for evil and self interest. The mad genius was quickly able to rise to power and establish control over the region due to the mechanized inventions he dubbed “badniks.” These machines, powered by the tiny bodies of flickies forced inside the metal beasts, had never been seen before by the locals nor the wider world, but everyone knew of them now and by extension the Robotnik Empire. Many were upset and disheartened by the destruction of the local flora and fauna but those who did not either submit to or join Robotnik’s cause were swiftly and cruelly made examples of. Yet, despite seemingly insurmountable odds, hope persisted.
Up a secluded, sandy road on the outskirts of the little town of Seaside Hill, nestled amongst fragrant jacaranda trees and hibiscus, sat a quaint little shack. It didn’t look like much from the outside; simple walls built with planks of teak and a rustic wood shake roof, but the warm glow emanating from the windows beckoned inside all those seeking refuge from the hardships of the wider world. However unassuming the cozy little structure may be, it served as a haven of hope and a place where the fires of rebellion could be stoked in secret.
A simple wooden sign hanging above the front door read “Trade Winds Tavern”
Inside it’s quiet, the last of the patrons having sucked their drinks dry and turned in for the evening. A few oil lamp sconces lined the hunter green walls illuminating a cozy space filled with a labyrinth of mismatched tables and chairs leading up to a bar set against the far wall of the establishment.
Made of rich dark walnut, the bar top itself looks to have seen its fair share of trials and tribulations. Scuffed and scarred from years of served drinks, arm wrestling matches, drunken dances atop the counter, and the occasional bout of fisticuffs. It’s tired yet it holds fast to serve its patrons in need of respite, hope, and a bit of liquid courage.
Behind the bar, whistling a jaunty sailors shanty and drying a whisky glass with an old rag and a deft hand, is the owner and proprietor of The Trades Winds Tavern, Sonic the Hedgehog. He holds the now dry glass up to the light, emerald green eyes reflecting in the spotless surface. A long sliding whistle of admiration interrupts the bouncy tune.
“Lookin’ good” Sonic says to no one in particular.
His striking azure quills bounce without a care in the world as he places the glass back with its brethren on the shelf running underneath the inside of the bar. He turns to grab the next dirty cup, a pint glass this time, and repeats the process anew.
Sonic reveled in the quiet of the space. It was about an hour after last call, the old clock ticking away up on the wall now read 3am. The tavern was especially lively that evening. Sonic supposed it was because he had to close the previous night due to his participation in some… extracurricular activities. The blue hedgehog slowed his ministrations as he recalled destroying the hulking, billowing machines Robotnik had set up at a new oil drilling site a few miles from town. His uncanny speed made quick work of the bulky metallic monstrosities and he set many a flickey free. It wouldn’t completely put a stop to the drilling and destruction of the surrounding ecosystem, but it was at least enough to delay production for a significant amount of time. He had also loaded up as much scrap metal and spare parts to distribute to the local marinas and other blue collar workers in town though he’d set aside some of it for his litter brother to tinker with too. No one had yet to measure up to Robotnik in his understanding and control of machinery, but Sonic’s adopted little brother Miles (a.k.a. Tails) showed real promise and had a real affinity towards creating his own mechanical masterpieces.
The way the kit's face lit up when presented with the materials was priceless. When asked how he acquired them, Sonic said he had simply stumbled upon them while on a run. His friends and family had enough to worry about without them also worrying about him too. The taxes the Robotnik Empire imposed were steep and they’re poor diplomatic relations with neighboring nations made trade difficult so various goods and resources were hard to come by. Plus he’d prefer that his friends never be tied back to his double life. If anyone of authority were to find out what he’d been doing after hours…
Sonic shook himself from the thought. The bit of help he could offer to the citizens of Westside Island (it’d be a cold day in hell when Sonic called it New Robotropolis) brought him a sense of joy and brevity that made all of the long nights and secrecy worth it. After all, joy and brevity were in short supply these days.
Just as his rag reached the bottom of the pint glass, the bell above the tavern’s entrance rang bright and loud, shattering the comforting quiet of the space.
“Sorry we’re all closed up for the evening” Sonic called with his back to the door, not looking up from the dirty glass.
“Oh what a shame, not even for one drink?” Came a suave voice that sent a chill racing down Sonic’s spine.
Sonic looked up into the mirror that lined the back wall behind the bar. A grey platypus with a white quaffed curl of hair atop his head and expensive looking red coat stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back in a show of mock politeness. Sonic had seen this face before, standing next to that scum Robotnik licking his boots and enforcing his rules.
Dr. Starline.
Best to play along…
“Afraid not,” Sonic responded, shifting his attention back down to the glass, taking care to keep his new visitor within his peripheral vision, “if I show you any kind of special treatment then everyone else is gonna want the same. We usually open around noon most days.”
“Usually? You mean you don’t have set hours?” The platypus asked, stepping further into the room.
“I like to march to the beat of my own drum” Sonic retorted, lowering the glass and meeting the strangers eyes, plastering a tight grin on face.
After a tense moment of eye contact the platypus said “Are you sure I can’t convince you for just one drink?”
“Sorry buddy, no dice” Sonic said and he gestured to the door.
“Well… then maybe my friends could convince you”
Just then two clanking badniks appeared in the doorway standing two full heads taller than the present Mobians. Ugly things. Round and clunky painted a tacky, faded red and yellow with glowing acidic blue eyes and pointy cones meant to insinuate noses. Obviously built for utility and not elegance. Eggpawns (Sonic’s own personal name for these ugly old clankers).
What was meant to be an intimidating moment was immediately shattered when both bots attempted to walk through the doorway at the same time. They clanked together and made a series of frustrated beeps and chimes seemingly arguing with one another. Sarline let loose an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his bill. He whirled around to the two bots, grabbed one roughly by the chest plate and pulled it through the doorway. The other followed shortly and they took up positions, flanking either side of their apparent boss who was now brushing off his lapels.
It took everything Sonic had not to burst out laughing.
They began to approach the bar as Sonic placed the pint glass down along with the rag, subtly trying to gauge the distance between him and the fisherman’s club he kept hidden behind the counter. Before he had a chance to move the platypus slapped his palm down on the counter, snapping Sonic back to attention and producing a few copper coins.
“Sooo, three drinks then?” Sonic joked, keeping a wary eye on the one eggpawn making its way along the left side of the bar, essentially flanking him.
“Just the one, I’m sure we won’t be here long.” The platypus said, bring Sonic's attention back to him.
“You have a specific drink of choice Mr…?”
“Doctor Starline… but you knew that already didn’t you… Sonic the Hedgehog? Or should I call you Swift Justice?”
Though he didn’t show it, Sonic had a feeling that this had been where this conversation was going all along. Without missing a beat, he uncorked a bottle of this heinous wormwood liqueur that was only ever ordered as a practical joke, poured it into a short glass, and slid it towards Starline.
“Well you got the first name right, then again most folks in town know me. But I can’t say I’m familiar with anyone called ‘Swift Justice’. Say,” he snapped his fingers in mock epiphany, “now that you mention it though, isn’t that the name of that vigilante dude who’s been running around lately?”
Sonic held back a grin as the pompous platypus raised the glass to his bill and took a sip. The blue hedgehog had to cover his muzzle and turn away as Starline’s eyes widened and accomplished the Herculean task of not spewing the repulsive drink all over the bar.
“So,” Starline tried and failed to suppress a burning cough, “you are familiar with him.”
“Familiar is a strong word. Just heard mumblings here and there. I run a tavern, people talk. Something about him stealing money from the treasury?” Sonic said with the most feigned innocence he could muster.
“Oh I think you’re more than familiar, in fact I think you’re practically the same person.” Yeesh this guy could use a lesson or two on subtly and nuance. “Perhaps you’re aware of his new moniker that's been catching on… Blue Justice. Sound like anyone you know?”
“I don’t really like what you’re trying to insinuate here, pal.”
“My apologies” Starline started “allow me to be more clear.”
In a flash, the pawn that had flanked him, wrenched Sonic’s left arm behind his back, grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face down onto the bar top with mechanical force, rattling Sonic’s teeth along with the bottles and glasses stored underneath the counter.
“What the hell-“ Sonic exclaimed, struggling to look at Starline with his right cheek smashed against the smooth wooden surface.
“You see Mr. Hedgehog,” Starline condescendingly bent down into his line of sight, “we have it on good authority that you are the vigilante who’s been a thorn in the side of the Robotnik Empire for the past few years. And the name Blue Justice is just the final nail in your quite possibly, not-so-proverbial coffin.”
“Just because I have blue fur doesn’t mean a damn thing.” Sonic said, straining against the robot's vice grip, letting loose a sharp cry as his arm was jarred even further. “Lots of Mobians are blue, urgh! You seriously have this tin can roughing me up over a coincidence?”
“Oh but I don’t believe in coincidences Sonic.” Starline all but spat.
“So what” Sonic started, subtly trying to feel for that fisherman’s bat underneath the bar with his right hand, “you gonna send me to prison with no evidence and no trial? That is the Robotnik Empire’ M.O. I suppose.” Fingers blindly groping for the weapon
Starline got in close to Sonic’s face and with wormwood liqueur still carrying on his breath, said “We have much bigger plans for you ‘Blue Justice’. A man of your… talents would be wasted behind bars.”
That’s right, just keeeep talkin, Sonic thought, fingers barely grazing the smooth wood of the bat, pushing it ever so slightly out of reach.
Damn!
“I think you’ll be very interested in the offer the Robotnik Empire has for you,“ Starline continued.
Come on just a little more…
“It’s quite generous I assure you.”
Reach…
“And I think you’ll find this situation mutually beneficial for both-“
GOT IT
In a flash, Sonic clamped his fingers around the fisherman’s bat and flung it with as much force as he could muster from his compromised position. The bat connected with the eggpawn’s face, right between the eyes, stunning the hunk of junk just enough for Sonic to rip his arm free and whirl around. Bracing two hands against the bar behind him, Sonic drove both legs into the center of the robot’s chassis sending it careening into the back wall exploding the mirror and countless glass bottles and cups into a shower of liquor and glimmering shards.
The second pawn sprung to life, but Sonic was faster. Vaulting over the bar, scooping up the wormwood bottle as he did so, Sonic ducked a swinging robotic arm, jumped, twisted mid air, and delivered a roundhouse kick into the robot’s chest, sending it flying through a wooden table. As the egg pawn began to right itself, he swung the liquor bottle down with a two handed grip and it shattered atop the robot's head. The blunt force dazed it and the liquid seeped into its circuits causing it to short. With the jagged broken bottle in hand, Sonic whipped around to face Starline.
“Miles Prower…”
Sonic stopped cold
“Your little brother's name correct?” The platypus asked, referencing a piece of paper in his hand, squinting through the thin gold rimmed glasses on his bill. “Well, adopted brother of course, though I’m told his friends call him ‘Tails’-”
“What do you want?” Sonic said darkly.
“Top of his class in school, looking at an early graduation,” Starline continued as though he hadn't even heard him, “what universities is he looking at? It would sure be a shame if he weren’t able to attend due to… extenuating circumstances.”
“What. Do. You. Want?”
“Oh now you want to listen to our offer? It’s very generous I assure you. You see, all you have to do is run a simple mission for the Robotnik Empire and in return, we turn a blind eye to the years of vigilantism, vandalism, and felony you have participated in.”
“You have no proof that I’ve even done the things you're accusing me of. I don’t owe you or that Eggman a damn thing.”
“His name is Doctor Robotnik!” Starline shouted like a petulant child, his quaffed white hair having fallen over his eyes during the outburst, his glasses now askew on his face. He regained his composure, clearing his throat, straightening his glasses, and slicking his hair back into place.
“Eye witnesses, quills dropped at the scenes, scrap metal found in the shed behind this very tavern. We have plenty of evidence and many ways of making people talk. But that doesn’t really matter, the Empire will do as it wishes regardless because it is strong and you are weak” Starline said sharply.
“How about the nice girl in town who runs that quaint little bakery. Amy Rose, was it?” He piped in an almost sickly sweet tone of voice, “Better tell her to take care, the weather has been awfully dry this season and fires tend to start so easily around ovens and baking equipment. It would be such a shame to see her bakery burned down to the ground.”
“You leave my friends out of this-”
“And that brutish Echidna Knuckes. He’s a cooper and a wheelwright isn’t he? The oaf knows his way around a woodshop. I'll give him that, but it would be terrible if someone were to find out about all of the black market trading he’s been participating in on the side. The metal and machine parts you’ve been supplying him alone are enough to have him thrown in prison but add the ancient artifacts he’s been illegally buying and selling, well we might as well throw away the key. The Robotnik Empire has a very thorough influence over this region, we could make life very difficult for you and your loved ones.”
“Alright you’ve made your point,” Sonic growled, tossing the remains of the broken liqueur bottle down into the face of the badnik that was just beginning to right itself. It made a series of unfortunate beeps and slumped back to the floor.
He took a centering breath, gaze shifting from the floor back to Starline. Boy was he ever going to regret this. “… what exactly is this mission you want me to run?”
“It’s simple really. You see there is a band of pirates that has risen to considerable notoriety over the years. They have made themselves quite the thorn in the side of the Robotnik Empire as of late, interfering with shipping lines, sinking our fleets-“
“Seems like robuttnik has been gathering a lot of thorns lately,” Sonic interrupted, “so what? You want me to take out an entire crew of pirates on my own?”
“I wasn’t finished!” Starline seethed.
“Then get to the point” Sonic growled through bared fangs, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
Starline narrowed his eyes. “There are rumors that this infamous crew is in search of a great treasure. One said to grant wishes and bestow miracles on those who possess it. We want you to infiltrate this crew, find the treasure they seek and bring it back to the Empire.”
Sonic opened his mouth to state just how stupid and convoluted of a plan this was but before he could get a word in edgewise, Starline added “And dispose of the pirates’ Captain once the treasure has been obtained”
Sonic’s head was spinning now.
“Okay buddy, I’m gonna stop you right there. None of this makes any sense. Why come knocking at my door? Surely you’ve got plenty of lackeys and bootlickers to do this kinda thing for you.”
“Those under the Empire’s employ lack the… nuance needed to infiltrate this particular crew. And we have ample leverage on you. You’re someone who has proven they have the ability to blend in and get the job done, and you have plenty to lose if you don’t.”
“So you’re saying I have street smarts” Sonic interrupted again with a shit eating grin. Starline's jaw tightened but he said nothing.
“Look,” Sonic continued, “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me but I’m not much of a sailor. I may live on a tropical island but that doesn’t exactly make me Captain Ahab.”
“So you’re telling me you didn’t do any sailing during your youth after you fled Christmas Island?” Starline asked with his own slimy grin.
“How- how did you kn-“
“We know everything about you, Sonic the Hedgehog… orphaned, a troubled youth, a thief, floating about all alone. At least until you found something to latch onto in your ‘little brother’. A man of many, many names it would seem. Should I call you Maur-“
“No.”
“Oh, struck another nerve, have I? So to be concise, yes we know you can sail, and yes, we know you’d fit right in with those liars, cheats, pirates, and all the other forms of scum that inhabit the dark crevices of this planet.”
There was a pregnant pause. This was the first time in a long time that Sonic had been backed into a corner, seemingly with no way out. Could he just run like he was good at?
Like he always did?
No. He had people in his life that he cared about now, and that cared about him… unlike the last time he had run. The reach of Eggman’s Empire was vast. Too vast for him to get all of his friends to a place of relative safety. Even then, who’s to say they wouldn’t be hunted down, imprisoned or even executed. And what would become of the rest of Westside island without him there to help… still the idea of striking a deal with this regime made Sonic’s skin crawl.
He was at an impasse. The images of Knuckles thrown in jail, Tails losing his opportunity for education or worse, being forced to work for the Empire, Amy’s bakery reduced to nothing more than burning cinders, all of them forced to watch him hang for treason, flashed through his mind.
And just like that, the fight left him. His shoulders slumped and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He met Starline's gaze.
“Fine” he ground out through gritted teeth, “so how does this work? I can’t just up and leave this place. What do I tell Tails? Amy? Knuckles? They’ll want to know where I’m going and why.”
“The Empire will graciously suspend property taxes on this hovel while you are abroad. As far as what you tell your gaggle of degenerates, I could care less” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “For your sake I do hope you make it something convincing. It would be a shame if they were to get caught up in your mess.”
Starline picked up his short glass from the bar, still filled with the revolting liqueur, and began to close the distance between himself and Sonic. Sonic stared daggers filled with hatred into the platypus the whole way.
“You should be grateful. Dr. Robotnik wanted simply to have you arrested and hanged. I however saw your potential and convinced him otherwise.”
“My hero.” Sonic said sarcastically through clenched teeth.
Starline then tipped his glass and poured the remaining contents out onto Sonic’s well-worn, brown leather boots and the surrounding wooden floor.
“Better clean that up before it stains.” He said with narrowed eyes, swiftly turning and making his way towards the entrance.
“In one week's time there will be a ship in the harbor, board it and it will take you where you need to go. Further details will be provided to you as needed.”
“Whoa whoa wait a minute, a week?!” Sonic sputtered “that’s not nearly enough time to-“
“One week. Ship. Harbor. Am I clear?”
Oh… screw this guy Sonic thought. In favor of putting a voice to that particular thought, he opted to simply sneer and nod his head.
“Good.” The platypus said and turned to leave.
“Wait!” Sonic shouted. Starline paused in the doorway. “At least tell me the name of the ship, the one I’ll be ‘infiltrating.’ I deserve that much.”
The pompous jerk took a moment to consider and turned his head over his shoulder. Then, as though he were dropping the executioner’s axe himself, he said “The Black Comet.”
Taking in Sonic’s expression, a wicked grin stretched across Starline’s face. He folded his hands behind his back and walked out the front door. The sparking, glitching badniks limping after their boss. They once again attempted to pass through the doorway at the same time clanging and jarring together until one finally squeezed out the other side. It wasn’t quite as funny this time...
The last pawn out slammed the door with a resounding BANG! The impact was hard enough to splinter the doorframe. It rang in Sonic’s ears as he stood there processing what he just heard…
The Black Comet…
Shit.