Thanks so much to those of you who've been reading and doubly so to you guys taking the time to review this story. I really, truly appreciate it.

-= Hail and Farewell =-

I. Shattered

Duruga. One month before Christof's assassination.

Angiris stood at the ridge of the Reve-Na for a moment, feeling the spray of its immense foam soaking through his fur, the din of the cascading water pounding through his head, and took a deep, long breath that tasted of the spring. It wasn't often that he felt like he had very much time to enjoy the small pleasures, not these days.

He turned, and ducked under a hardened fist coming at him like lightning. When he saw his opponent's body heaving for another swing, he hopped up, as Scala Grama doubled back and went, predictably, for a low sweep with his foot. As soon as he was back on his feet, Angiris' came back with a blow of his own.

Caught off balance, Scala batted it away with one palm, then dodged the next, coming at his torso, with another.

They stopped for a moment, eyes locking.

Angiris lowered his fists, and took a few steps back. "Good," he said in Mobian.

"I've been thinking as I was sparring with the other lieutenants," Scala said, nodding. "We all have our own styles and patterns. I see how you are managing to win in fights so often, Padra. You are alternating between styles, randomising. It makes you less predictable than the others."

"That's the impression I try to give," Angiris said. "One can never really be completely unpredictable, however. The Kitsune mind is always prone to ordering itself. The challenge is trying to overcome that tendency."

Scala Grama was the closest thing to a right-hand that Angiris had, and - though Angiris had never dared to mention it - the closest thing to a son that he had. It was little wonder Fiona hated the middle-aged fox so much, and she'd make no secret of it when the two crossed paths.

He was shorter than average for a Kitsune, but beneath his dull brown-green fur, Scala had muscles that wrapped around his bones like the corded roots of a great oak, and the kind of jealous, hardened determination that reminded Angiris of the way his father had been in his youth.

There was little doubt that the way that Scala had been chastised for being small by his brethren in his youth, had shaped him into something harder than most. When you're young, and facing adversity, there are two ways you can go - either you skulk into the shadows, chased away by your fears and your shame, or you weather the abuse until your hide becomes thicker than any leather.

He looked away for a moment, leaning against the trunk of the tall ancient tree beside him, back over at Gorromandas - that hulking pile of crudely fashioned metal that had fallen from the stars years ago. The thing was nothing but an eyesore, in his opinion.

"Commit that sight to memory while you can, lad," Angiris said, following Scala's gaze. "We're not long for this place."

"There is room in my memories for better things than that rickety old chariot," Scala said. "Kitsune aren't made for scurrying around in the dark like the mice. We breathe the fresh air, and we look out to the distant mountains and see that-"

"Everything in our sight is ours, yes, yes," Angiris finished for him. "Of course. I know few have enjoyed taking shelter inside Gorromandas, or even near it. But surely even you must admit it's bestowed some mighty gifts upon us!"

"Not arguing there," Scala smirked. "If only Gela Janassa were here to see where you'll be taking us."

Angiris frowned. "If Janassa were alive, things would be... quite different." He felt his heart and lungs flutter with the sound of her name. "But the world changes for no fox. Speaking of which, I'd call it time we saw to how the vessels are coming along. They'd better be almost fit for the voyage to Mobius now."

"It'll be a good feeling, to be standing on the soil of the Otherland," Scala grinned.

"Indeed," Angiris said, running a hand through his thick mane.

"Thirded." Sonic's voice, coming from above.

Angiris and Scala both looked up.

"Can we not throw this stinking meat in the Reve-Na already?" Scala groaned. "He's nothing but a pest." He looked up at Sonic, who had, evidently, been sitting casually on one of the branches, eavesdropping on their entire conversation. "Come down here, ghu-rah. Let me break your neck and feed you to the war cows like a good prey!"

"I assume there is a reason you've been up there spying on us," Angiris said. His voice carried no degree of surprise or other discernable emotion - it was a careful facade that Sonic imagined it'd taken him considerable time to build, and even more to maintain.

"What can I say?" Sonic shrugged, his mouth tightening into a worn-in, characteristic smirk that belied the seething rage he was feeling inside. "I like to be up with the times. 'Specially when the times are concerning my own backyard." He pulled a leaf from the branch next to him, scrunching it up between his fingers, letting the small pieces of it drift away in the wind. "You never told me a whole lot about this great expedition when I asked. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's like an exchange program, right?"

"You must know by now that this isn't the first time we've been to Mobius," Angiris said with a smile, folding his arms. "Otherwise you wouldn't have Tails at your side these days. His father, Grovak, was there. It pains me to the day that he never made it back."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Sonic snorted. "Pains you that your man never came back here with all the intel you wanted for a little impromptu hello?"

"I'm not one to lie about my feelings, hedgehog," Angiris said, his voice going low. "I can assure you that Grovak was a dear friend to me. I rued the day that we gave up hope and cast his armour into the river!"

"Well, I guess you ain't doing a lot of mourning now that you've got Viktor feeding you info about Mobius! I'm sure you know all there is to know for this whole holiday you're all about now."

Angiris' lip twitched. Touche, hedgehog. Touche.

Scala rested one weighty paw over the scabbard of his hook blade. "He knows," he whispered to the Padra Utama.

"So he does," Angiris nodded. "Well, then, hedgehog. What of it? Are you not elated at your chance to rejoin your people?"

Sonic's smirk finally fell off his face completely. "What's your game here, you chump? Tails and I ain't been raiding all these settlements outside of this valley for tourism gifts. We've been lifting ore and schaolite for months. Enough to build a whole freakin' fleet, and make a nice little arsenal while you're at it. You really think you can pull the wool over my eyes?"

Scala's gaze darted from Sonic back to Angiris. "Let's kill him," he growled, taking two strides towards the tree. "Then the Prower kid as well."

Angiris slowly shook his head, his arms folded. Scala turned back, saw Angiris' frown, and stopped in his tracks as if Angiris' gaze alone had ensnared him on the spot.

"Well... Sonic Hedgehog," Angiris began, his gaze even. "It appears we arrive at an impasse. You cannot allow us to leave. I cannot allow you to stop us. What do you suggest?"

Sonic felt his veins beginning to throb with the violent pumping of blood, laden with adrenalin, and dropped gracefully from the branch, into the long grass.

The Padra Utama raised an eyebrow without moving. "Well?"

"Duel," Sonic said, before he could think it through enough to assess just how stupid that idea was.

Scala let out a low, stifled giggle, that gradually worked its way up into hysterical laughter. "You? Against the honourable Padra Utama, Angiris Moro? Do you even know what you are proposing here, ghu-rah?"

Sonic shrugged, trying to look disengaged. "Wouldn't be the first time. Right, Angie?"

Angiris took a slow, subtle breath, his chest rising and falling slowly behind those folded tree trunks of arms. "Very well, then. A duel. If I live, you will die, and we will go. If I die, the Kitsune will never again seek the Otherland. Scala shall bear witness to this, as my lieutenant."

Scala sunk to one knee, clenching a fist against his chest. "Galala gruma. I am your witness."

Angiris took a step towards Sonic, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "This is your last chance to renege on your offer of a duel."

A voice in Sonic's head began screaming, begging him to accept Angiris' offer of surrender. He'd won one battle against him, but something seemed different here. Angiris had now had plenty of time to judge the hedgehog, and where there had been boisterous bravado and cocky arrogance in the Kitsune leader on the previous occasion, there was now a dangerous quietness in its stead.

Something about his touch on Sonic's shoulder felt welcoming, fatherly.

Sonic took a step back, and shook Angiris' hand. "It's been a pleasure, Padra Utama," he said, in Kitsune.

"Indeed," Angiris said.

Scala's smirk was gone, replaced with humbled disbelief. The Padra Utama, shaking the hand of a prey animal and conveying his respect. Surely, this was one for the fables.

They both took five paces back from each other, and stopped, the wind curling around them, forming waves in the lush grass.

I could kill for a power ring right about now, Sonic thought to himself. Having Tails at his side would've been great too, but the guy had been missing since Sonic had awoken that morning. He could only guess that he was off trying to grill Fiona about her father's plans - in between attempts at bedding her, maybe.

"I'm ready," he said.

Then in a flash, Angiris' eyes turned white, the flashes in them burning so brightly that Sonic had to squint. The Padra Utama's tails cracked like a whip, and he sprung forward, slamming into Sonic as hard as he could.

The hedgehog flew into the air like a rag doll from the force, blinded and caught completely off guard. He went into a spin as he hit the dirt, carving out a deep gouge in the earth, and sprung to his feet.

He could see the silvery outline of Angiris up ahead, but everything was coming up in double, his ears ringing from the lightning-like crack. The Kitsune's body was wreathed in something black and ethereal, swirling about his body restlessly. Giving his head a quick shake, Sonic sprung to his feet, and charged.

As Angiris braced for the hit, Sonic darted to the left, and slid just under his left side, rolling to a stop and doubling straight back. With Angiris' back to him, Sonic spun with all of his might, his spines moving like razors.

And as suddenly as it seemed like he was about to hit, Angiris' hand reached through and grabbed him by the throat. All of Sonic's pent-up momentum, suddenly, had been deflected with a simple motion of the hand, and for a hundredth of a second, as his body continued to spin around with the force, he felt like he'd end up with his neck snapped from his own spin. But Angiris' wrist pivoted, letting Sonic's flailing limbs dispel their inertia, and rolled his body through the grass with the hedgehog.

Angiris rose to his feet again, and drove his fist directly into Sonic's undefended face.

Before Sonic even knew what had happened, he felt his nose cave in, and then Angiris' fist came again, driven hard into his stomach.

He'd never felt such agony in years, since the days when he was a Freedom Fighter up against Lilith, when her mutated Wolfpack had attacked him. One of his ribs snapped like a branch in his abdomen, and any chance of him fighting back with any degree of effectiveness, suddenly disappeared.

Angiris let go of the hedgehog's throat, and he dropped to the dirt like a sack of potatoes, gasping desperately for air, every ragged breath bulging against his broken rib, sending rippling waves of pure agony through every inch of his body. His eyes vision blurred through his tears, his opponent standing over him, a dark grey silhouette against the morning sun.

The Padra Utama's voice sounded distant, like it was being spoken down the end of a long hall. "You fight well, Sonic Hedgehog of Mobius."

Scala's smirk came back. After all the respect Angiris had shown the ghu-rah, he'd almost come under the impression that Sonic had actually stood some kind of chance against him.

"But understand me when I say this. The Padra Utama is the ruler supreme of all Kitsune. I have killed many to become what I am. And my power knows no bounds. None of my kin question my dominance."

"You..." Sonic croaked, clutching at his shattered nose with one hand and his smashed ribcage with another, blood bubbling from between his lips. "The last time we fought... you let me win."

Angiris simply shrugged. "My daughter had told me that Mobians do not kill. I wanted to see if she was right." He looked out wistfully to the Reve-Na for a moment, and sighed. "I suppose she was, perhaps. But I saw in your eyes now, hedgehog, that you would've killed me now, if you could. An animal with its back against the wall will do a great deal to save itself, even a Mobian."

The words were only half-registering for Sonic. He was becoming delirious from the pain, waiting for his own death to relieve him of it.

"You should finish him, now, Padra," Scala urged his master. "There's no virtue in tormenting the ghu-rah."

Angiris knelt down at Sonic's side, cradling his head in one massive paw. "You spared me when I was bested by you all those years ago, Sonic." His other hand rested on the hedgehog's leg, just below the knee. "I think there's something to be said for mercy. It's a sign of strength, a sign of a good nature. I'd like to return to you the boon that you gave me when we first fought. I will let you live."

Sonic's head was spinning, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. "There's a good sport," he gurgled quietly.

"But I also can't allow you to follow us back to Gorromandas, or to interfere with my vision. I hope you'll forgive me for this one day, if you yet survive."

And then Angiris' arm came crashing down on his shin, splitting the bones in twain, and again on his other. Sonic howled with the pain like he'd never howled before. Nothing could have prepared him for such intense suffering.

Scala and Angiris' voices were almost inaudible through the roaring in Sonic's head.

"What of the boy Prower?" he could barely hear Scala saying. "I couldn't find him or Fiona this morning."

"They're most likely hunting," Angiris said, starting to walk off. "I'll speak with him when he returns, and allow him his decision then."

And then they were gone, and Sonic was left prone and solitary in the grass, staring up at the clouds, his head filled with the rush of water, the calling of birds, the thumping of his heart.

Then soon after, all was quiet, and all was dark.

"So, how is it today?" Sally asked.

It was one of those red letter mornings in Knothole. Like the kind you got on Christmas day - it shouldn't have been any different to any other day, but the birds sounded different when they sang, the air tasted different, and you could see it in anyone's eyes when you spoke to them, that they were feeling just the same way.

Sonic sat back in his chair, staring at his bowl of cereal in front of him, then down at his ankle, now ensconced in hard plaster from where he'd rolled it the night before. "It's healing. Slowly. This is totally contra to my raison d'etre."

The princess giggled. "My, my. Using the big words!" She took a bite out of her toast, spread with butter and marmalade that Rosie had made the other day, putting a finger thoughtfully to her chin. "I'm going to drop in on Antoine and Bunnie in a little while, to see how they've pulled up after yesterday."

The hedgehog couldn't help but let his mouth curl up into a smile. "I don't think I've ever seen that clown looking so happy about anything in his life. Or Bunnie, come to think of it. You'd think they'd gone on a date to the movies instead of blowing up giant planet-smashing cannons."

"I know!" Sally grinned. "It's... I mean, I never, ever would've seen it between them, but it's awesome, actually. Really awesome."

Sonic sighed. "If my ankle weren't in such bad shape, I would've-"

Sally stood up, and patted him on the shoulder. "Yes, yes, you would've gone after Antoine and saved him from Lilith's crew. I know, you've been saying it all week."

"Exactly!" Sonic said, missing the sarcasm. "Instead, I'm back here, getting babysitted by Princess Acorn."

Sally knelt down in front of him and pinched his cheek. "Aww. You poor, poor thing, Sonic. You know," she mused, glowering a little. "I've kind of enjoyed this. Taking care of you. Just makes me think how well we all take care of ourselves these days."

The hedgehog stirred his spoon around in his bowl, watching the little ripples it left in its wake. "You did a good job with that cast, Sal. And thanks for the dinner last night. Again."

"Do you think I'll make a good mother, some day?" Sally asked, pinching the front of her vest and holding it out in front of her, like it'd look with a big pregnant belly beneath it.

Sonic's eyes bugged out. "Uh... er... I don't think that's something you'll need to think about for a while-"

"Yeah, but..." Sally pouted, then she closed her eyes contentedly. "It'd be nice. One day."

"Maybe when my foot heals it'll be time to think about that."

"Oh, come on!" Sally said, turning for the bench, where Sonic's crutches were waiting. "You know you're not going to be like this forever, so quit complaining. Come on, let's go. Let me give you a hand up."

Her blue eyes looked down at him past her outstretched hand. Sonic took it gratefully, hopping up out of his chair and putting an arm around her shoulder. "Thanks, Sal."

"You good?" Sally asked. "Can you stand alright?"

"Just give me the freakin' crutches, will ya?" Sonic grumbled, reaching across for one. And Sal... I'd better not say this now, or you'd get too used to it. But man… how would I ever get by without you?

When Sonic woke again, the sun was setting. An ant was crawling across his belly, and he swatted it away quickly. When he moved, the pain returned, surging in great throbbing torrents through his legs and chest and face.

The more he tried to move, and the more his body refused, the angrier he got. "Angiris!" he screamed at the wind, the exertion suddenly making him feel like someone had driven a knife into his side and stopping him from exhaling further.

Home had never seemed so far away - not even after being away from it so many years.

He felt ruined. With two broken legs now, he'd be lucky to crawl his way back. For the last few years, he'd almost felt ready to give up trying for anything.

But now... now that he was so close to the brink, that was the last thing on his mind.

Gritting his teeth, he began moving his arm around behind him. When he finally sat up, the pain seized him, just as intense as before. He looked over the field, the last of the day's light fading before him. His fists clenched, pulling out the loose grass and grinding it between his fingers.

"I'll be back for you," he growled. "Smarter people than you have made the mistake of letting me live!"

II. My Racing Heart

Fiona stood alone in the light of dusk, knee-deep in the water where she'd spent so many evenings. Sonic and Tails were both gone when she'd gone to see them today, and now that she was by herself again, the feeling was strange, but relaxing.

"What kind of times are these?" she said quietly to herself, awkwardly at first, but then taking a deep breath, she continued. "Has it really been a year already? Since that pup showed up on my doorstep?"

She sank to her knees with a splash, sending a wide ring of ripples cascading away from her. She watched them hit the bank, then turn back and come at her again, half as strong as before. Watched them make their way back to her, bouncing off of her knee and fading to nothing. She wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes.

There was another light splash, and she felt another wave lapping against her. Opening her eyes again, she saw Tails standing at the edge of the water, arms folded. "Q'ala farad, Fiona Moro."

"Q'ala farad," she said back, straightening up in the water. Something was wrong.

From the formal greeting, to his stance, to the look in his eyes. He'd let his long locks of orange hair fall freely across his face, and his gaze behind it was like a statue's, obscuring all thought or feeling behind it. She hadn't ever known him to be a small Kitsune, but his time at Gorromandas had shaped him into something of a giant. She'd remembered the stories Sonic had told her of a two-tailed kit that they'd found in the woods one day, one that would go running through the woods with him, eating chili-dogs with him and borrowing his phrases. Looking at the fox standing before her, the link between this one and the one on the stories was a hard one to make.

"Did you know?" he asked, not moving a muscle.

The daughter of the Padra Utama huffed impatiently. "Again with your Mobian riddles," she growled. "You have a problem? Say."

"No riddles," Tails said quietly. "If you know, then you know. About your father. About his talks with people in my continent. Preparing for an invasion of Mobius, buttering Sonic and I up for intel."

Fiona blinked, suddenly acutely aware of the feeling she'd been getting over the last year. "I had... a feeling. But he never tells me-"

"Oh? He never tells you anything?" Tails' voice was as low, rumbling and dangerous as that of the Padra Utama himself. "I don't believe you. How could you, his own daughter and second in line, be in the dark about this?"

She slowly rose out of the water to her feet, making sure her hook blade was still close by.

"Sonic is behind me in the woods, unconscious, with two broken legs, a broken nose and from the sound of his breathing, a fractured rib as well," Tails said, quietly. "If he doesn't get medical attention, I don't think he's going to walk again."

Fiona took a step forward. "Then why are you coming to me with him, you dolt? Go back to Gorromandas and take him to the healer!"

"Why do you think Angiris would've done this to him?" Tails shouted.

"Angiris?" Fiona hurled back at him. "What kind of stupid fool dream have you been carrying? Father has no cause to-"

Tails shook his head. "Of course he has cause! He knows we know his plans! What use does he have for us now?"

Fiona's shoulders slumped a little. "So, it's true... this was his plan. Thought he could use me to give him all the answers he'd wanted from Grovak in the olden days."

Tails shook his head slowly in disbelief. "And you never knew? Never even suspected?"

She growled at him, baring her fangs. "Of course I suspected. How stupid do you think I am?"

"Very!" Tails snapped at her, hunching his back, ready to pounce. "I suppose you've been telling him every little factoid I ever gave you about Mobius along the way, too. Am I right?"

"No!" she screamed it at him as hard as she could, wishing it'd blast him off his feet. "You're wrong. You're wrong, you fool ghu-rah Mobian soft-fleshed waste!"

Tails' eyebrows went up. "What?"

Fiona leapt from her feet and straight into him, landing three hard blows to his face before he even knew what was going on. They hit the mud at full force, and tumbled away from the lakeshore and into the thick, leaf-strewn grass.

Tails' arms went up to fend off her blows, and finally he came back with his own, sending a jolt of ethereal fire that blasted her off of him and back into the water.

She rolled into a ball as she landed on her back, kicking up a spray of white foam, and came to a stop on the bank. She lay there for a moment, and achingly sat up. "Damn you, Miles Prower."

He stood across from her, watching her carefully, panting from the sudden exertion. "You never told him anything?"

"Never."

"It would've been easier for you, if you did."

Fiona nodded. "Much."

Tails cocked his head to one side. "So why didn't you?"

"Because..." He saw her lips moving to complete her sentence, and her eyes shutting tightly.

"Speak up."

Fiona shook her head. "Father is a different person from the one who raised me as a kit," she said. "When the Gela Utama, Janassa Moro, my mother, died. He changed. He grew cold, and distant. More ambitious."

"You grew apart?"

"Mother told me that the Kitsune are proud, that we stand alone, and we are at peace with the world. We hunt and we take what we need and we stay strong. But we do not conquer. We do not scheme or lie. I want to spit on my father's plans and spit on my kind and leave this place. I want no part in their conquest."

Tails began treading through the water over to her. "So why didn't you? Why string us along? Why go with it?"

She stared at the water swirling around her feet, the moonlight reflecting off of it.

He took another step towards her. "Fiona-"

She lashed out at him with her claws bared, making him recoil. "Hssss!"

He sighed. "There's nothing wrong with loving your father, Fiona. You don't have to agree with him to do that. Nothing would change how you feel about him."

"Mph."

"Look, please..." he reached out, carefully, half-expecting a hook-blade to the throat. But when he rested a hand on her shoulder, all he got was a look sullen resignation. "I'm gonna try and find a way to stop this invasion. I'm not going to ask you to take part in helping me. But I need supplies from that ship's infirmary so I can make sure Sonic makes it through."

Fiona clenched her fists, and sniffed loudly. "Mph," she grunted again.

"I can't go back there now. They'll kill me if I do," Tails said. "Go back, grab one of the medical kits from the infirmary and bring it back here. Can you do that for me?"

She made a low gurgle, wriggling away from him. "No, no, no..."

"Fiona!" Tails reached out with both hands, giving her a light shake. "Please. I can't leave my best bud like this."

She stood there for a while, arms limp at her sides at first. And then in a move that surprised her more than any, she found her right hand slowly raising to rest over Tails', on her shoulder. "Okay," she said.

He smiled at her. "Thank you."

His eyes drifted to her hand resting over his own – bare hands, with no gloves these days. He could feel the warmth of her palm.

For a moment, he thought he saw the corners of her lips twitching upward.

Fiona pulled Tails' hands aside, turned, and began striding towards the underbrush. "Stay here with him, keep him comfortable. I will be back soon." And then she was gone, her tails flicking to and fro as she vanished into the dark.

"Fiona," Tails called after her. "We'll make it through this. All of us. Promise."

There was a few moments of silence, before her voice came back from the underbrush, before she finally was out of earshot: "Yeah."

He walked over to the tree where he'd laid Sonic down, now in a deep slumber, a hard grimace carved into his face. He slumped down against the trunk of the tree, brushing the loose stones away from under him, and stared up at the moon, watching him through the canopy, like it'd done to keep him company for all these years in these strange lands.

"Well, bud," he said, looking down at Sonic, "I guess it's just back to you and me again."

Sonic snorted in his sleep suddenly, his chest shuddering.

"I know it hurts," Tails said. "Don't worry, we'll be back in Mobius before you know it. I'm sorry that I had to drag you along on this ride... sometimes you gotta go a long way looking for home before you realise, it was right back where you left it, the whole time. It's funny how things work out, eh?"

Things had been simple once.

Nobody ever said that the life of a hunter and gatherer would be easy, but if there was one thing Fiona had always been able to rely on, it was that it would at the least be simple.

She'd always looked on the Durugan species in these lands and wondered how they managed to cope. So many of them would be of little import as labourers, and even less so as warriors. A large portion of the natives she'd seen, especially when venturing into their more heavily settled areas, were little more than scrawny husks of creatures, with nary a thin layer of fur to cover their modest physique. She'd never thought that her own kind, the Kitsune, would be resorting to the same sorts of measures these cowardly types took to get by. Barter. Commerce. Politics. It was all so oblique. And yet these were the deeds done by cowards that allowed them to live like kings.

She strode along the open cargo bay door of Gorromandas, nodding at the two Kitsune sentries at either flank as she passed them.

Once she was out of the way, she walked, casually as possible, through from one end of the ship's atrium to the other. She shielded her eyes as she looked up and tried to remember what floor to go to.

The ceiling in the atrium could be mistaken for a skylight from the bottom floor. What it was, was a tapestry of bright artificial light, reaching from the top deck to bottom, with a glow so harsh it sometimes felt like she could feel her skin peeling away from her bones as she walked beneath it. Another puzzle to her: how any living thing, even these 'humans' as her father had described them, could ever stand something so unnatural.

Amidst the haze, she made out the glowing 'Med Bay' sign, up on the third floor, and headed for the nearest ladder.

There wasn't much to the Med Bay, not anymore. Most of the old, broken equipment had been carted out an age ago and replaced with a few hard wooden benches the Kitsune had cobbled together, and the shelves were lined with bags of healing powder.

She made her way through one wing of the bay and rounded the corner, where she knew there were still supplies left over from the original crew. She grabbed one of the powder bags on her way through – there was every chance that Tails would have as little idea of how to work the human-styled medical kits as she or any other Kitsune, and just as much chance that whatever technology that comprised it had perished in the years since the ship's first violent contact with the planet's surface.

She opened one of the cabinets, took two of the small, steel cylinders marked with red crosses, and slipped one of them into her rucksack as she moved. This late at night, she found the atrium totally devoid of activity, much to her relief. The last thing she needed was to bump into someone asking questions like –

"Fiona."

"Padra."

Angiris looked past her and peered into the Med Bay. "Have you seen the pup? I was to meet with him earlier, but he never showed."

Fiona swallowed. She'd never agreed to the concept of lying – maybe that was a reason, or maybe it was a result, of why she'd never been good at it either. She thought about telling him the truth, and what she thought of his plans…

An image of Sonic lying on his back, beaten to within an inch of his life, flashed across her mind.

"We were hunting earlier today," she said, "and then he told me he was going back to his quarters. That was the last I saw of him."

She was so sure he'd see through it, she could feel the bile rising within her stomach already. But helping Sonic and Tails at this point was an act of defiance, and nobody defied the Padra Utama. Better to lie and pray he bought it, than to admit to what she was doing.

Her father nodded. "Mm. I supposed as much. In any case, come see me in the morrow. There is something I want to discuss with you."

She could feel the thumping of her heart rippling achingly through her muscles. "Yes, Padra." She turned hastily to leave his side and head for the ladder, but his arm touched her shoulder, stopping her cold.

"Are you alright?" Angiris' voice was a gentle rasp.

Fiona flinched at his touch, silently cursing herself for it as she did. "Of course. Why?"

He pointed a clawed finger at the medical kit still clenched tightly in her hand.

Fiona gripped the cold metal cylinder so hard she could feel it bending in her grasp. She hadn't allowed herself the time to put it away like the other one. Stupid, she cursed herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"I wasn't made aware that anyone knew how to use the human medical supplies."

"I wanted to study it," Fiona said quickly. "See how it works."

He stared at her for a long time, a faint, dangerous smirk on his face. "That sounds like a noble pursuit. I'll look forward to hearing what you learn. But for now, get some rest, my child. Tomorrow will be busy." He touched a hand to her cheek, looking down at her.

"I will," Fiona said, turning to leave. "Good night, Padra Utama."

"You've turned out well, daughter," Angiris said quietly after her. "You're a far better Kitsune than I deserve. Your mother would be proud of you."

Fiona stopped for a moment when he spoke. His voice wasn't the Padra Utama's – for a moment, it was someone else – the one who'd told her stories as she'd settle down to sleep. The one who'd hoist her up on his shoulders and go running into the forest with her.

She turned to look back at her father, but he was already gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Then she turned back for the lifts.

III. Night's Dawn

The Mobotropilan mead went down Griff's throat smoother with each mouthful. He took another swig from his bottle and rolled it around in his mouth, feeling the burn, slow and bitter, much like his day had turned out to be.

Then, he sat the bottle atop the table beside him, opened the heavy, gold-plated door and walked out into the throne room of Castle Acorn, taking his position in front of an assembly of eager and concerned journalists in front of a great, empty throne - Nicole's throne.

Immediately, he was beset by flashes of cameras, exclamations, protests, questions. A few of them stood above the rest of the crowd, waving clipboards and notepads and trying to shout over the others, their voices phasing in and out of the din.

He held up a hand, and quietly motioned for their silence: "If I could just have your attention for a moment…"

The kafuffle continued as if he were not even there. When the decibel level didn't reduce, Lupe hopped up onto the dais, and shouted "Quiet!"

The crowd hushed in short order.

Griff gave Lupe a quick nod as she stepped down again. "Thanks." He turned back to the rest of the crowd, and straightened up his notes in front of him, noticing his hands were trembling as he shuffled the pages around. "Thank you all for attending this conference at such short notice," he began.

When the crowd finally fell completely silent, he continued: "I'm sure that over the last several weeks the people of Mobius, North and South alike have had many questions, and I understand the frustration of those who feel the Mobotropilan monarchy, and to a lesser degree, the Brotherhood of Thamael, have not been as forthcoming as usual in their answers to those questions.

"Earlier in this year, our Queen Nicole of the Acorn Monarchy, met with Lord Christof of the Brotherhood of Thamael to discuss the forging of an alliance, putting an end to the several decades of unrest Mobius has endured after the Great War, which took place in the years preceding the coup by Julian Kintobor.

"As you all know, Nicole is a sentient artificial intelligence, and is comprised of several elements, not all of which are elements that we have been able to fully understand due to their origins.

"On the night of their meeting, Nicole experienced what we understand to be some kind of malfunction in her AI, and mistakenly construed the Lord of Thamael's presence to be a direct threat to her life. In self-defence, Nicole attacked and killed Lord Christof, as well as both of his aides whom he had brought with him."

The room immediately burst into chaos, with every guest shouting over the other.

"Please, I beg your attention please," Griff started again.

"How long has this been known by her Majesty's staff?" one of them was screaming.

Another: "Why has the Brotherhood not made any move to re-establish the treaty and have Nicole removed from power?"

"Silence!" Griff hollered, his throat hoarse, and his nostrils suddenly filled with the smell of mead.

The room quietened again, and a few journalists took their seats.

"Their meeting was in private and no immediate witnesses were on hand, and so an investigation was conducted quietly to determine what occurred on that night," Griff continued. "It was only earlier today that Nicole confessed to her actions.

"As of today, Nicole has been arrested on charges of manslaughter and high treason, and is being held in custody. And as of now, I, Griff of Mobius South's Ministry of War, am declaring that the nation of Mobius South is under martial law. There will be further communications made in the coming days as we continue to investigate Nicole's actions and choose a successor. In the meantime, we urge your understanding, patience and calm as we as a nation work together through this difficult time."

Griff took a step back, and turned for the door again as the crowd behind him worked into a louder frenzy than ever.

"Minister!" One of them grabbed him by the shoulder, squeezing hard, making him grunt as he turned. "You aren't going to be taking questions?"

He looked at her, letting his sagely gaze fall away to reveal the bitter sorrow and resignation that lay beneath. "In due time, perhaps."

He jerked himself free of the reporter's grasp, and shut the door hard behind him.

Backing up against it, the shouting still vibrating through the heavy oak, he took a few panicked breaths, reaching for his hip flask. Already, this seemed like far more than he'd ever bargained with Nicole for. And yet, here he was, with the Acorn's past and future in the palm of his hand.

"So…" the voice made Griff jump - when he rounded the corner, it was Chuck coming through. "That was Nicole's plan, huh?" he asked. "I guess that means we're all out of a job, now."

The goat slowly slid his flask back into his pocket, cursing under his breath that he hadn't had a chance to take a swig yet. "Her arrest will buy us some time. We can get a message across to Trema that she's been imprisoned - hopefully, they'll take that as an olive branch. Then you can all get to work."

"To work?" Chuck asked.

"Find out who's behind this conspiracy and put a stop to them before things get any worse. Then we can get Nicole back on the throne again where she belongs. Okay?"

It always surprised Griff whenever he looked at Chuck, and saw so much humanity could be conveyed by those two red LED dots that passed for eyes. "We're already on it. You can count on us, Minister."

"'Griff' is fine, you know," he said.

Chuck gave him a light jab in the arm, and winked. "I know."

They parted ways, and Griff began making his way back to his office.

So, Griff thought, this was how it was to be in charge of Mobotropolis. Today was his first day on the job, and it was already shaping up to be harder than anything Griff had ever done before. Leading a rag-tag resistance in the Mobius Underground hadn't been simple, but things made more sense then. Robotnik was the bad guy and they were the good guys. It was amazing how a clearly delineated and common enemy brought out the best in everyone. Now he didn't know who to call the enemy anymore. It was just a few million good people looking like they were going to set about killing each other.

Yup, he thought, reaching for his flask. A bunch of good people killing each other. That's war. He opened the lid, and readied himself to douse his parched mouth in mead.

"Minister!" it was one of his aides, Michele, a turtle. "I've received several messages during your speech about the first and third divisions of the Mobius South Army."

Griff quickly screwed the cap back on, finally yielding to the fact that he wasn't going to be relaxing any time soon. "What of them?"

"Uh…" Michele looked away, stroking her chin nervously. "They're gone, sir."