Special thanks, NauTii-DarkSide on Deviant Art for letting me use one his excellent drawings as cover art. See a link in my profile to view more of his work.

The obligatory stuff:

None of the Sega & DiC characters are mine, I don't in any way claim that they are. They ideas and dialog however are mine and not representative of Sega or DiC and their opinions or views.

Ideas and characters such as Mara are mine. All are free to use by anyone and everyone because that's what FanFiction is about. Again ideas and dialog in this story are mine and represent my work using copyrighted characters.

This story has no set direction or plot. I pick up right where I leave off every time and stop when I feel like I have completed a chapter. Please feel free to chime in and makes suggestions.

Resistance takes place in a fictional world of my own devise. I ignore most precedents in terms of world and setting provided by Archie, Sega or Dic in favor of creating my own. I wanted to write a story about how the characters would act in a war against Julian Kintobor (Robotnik) in a more familiar setting where humans are still part of every day life. The timeframe is set not that far into the future and yet should in many ways seem older (think 90's era infrastructure with tech from 100 years from now). Populations of people depending on their location will act differently. This is also true for characters based on their past and current situations. In short what I am saying is that people may seem OOC, but that is because I am interpreting how they would act given the world and scenarios I am putting them in. I don't like to build a world around predefined notions about characters because it forces too many things. All of the characters will retain their core personalities as you will see in the end, I have only given them the means to go beyond what they might do in a normal ff.

Please enjoy.

This chapter has been updated as of 12/1/2013. It has been edited for continuity and general clarity. Other chapters will follow.

The kit sat at the table thumbing for the next page in the morning paper. It was a poorly edited local bit, however, news was still news. He didn't need reminding that a war was going on, but when you're this far from home, it wasn't hard to be left out of the loop.

More details of bombings on the eastern seaboard littered the front three pages. Sonic's handy work no doubt, the fox thought to himself. The government's overtones were obvious and obscured the meaning behind the targets. Instead, the author condemned the Mobian rebels for more senseless violence all while backing the president's plan to create a utopia where the snarling creatures of the resistance would locked up or killed.

From behind the counter, a shorter than average human girl watched him with apprehension as he wrapped his paws around a still warm cup of coffee and lifted it to his lips. The beverage was dark, but far from rich, and left a thick after taste of what seemed like motor oil in his mouth.

Even in the small towns were their kind was still permitted it was obvious the humans were averse to associating with Mobians. The fear in the girl's eyes was the same he saw everywhere. Her hands shook with an anxious tremble that made it appear as if she were concerned for her safety.

This town in particular appeared to have seen some of the worst of the fighting after Julian and his associates were elected. Their iron fist quickly closed around the Mobians with little warning. It was only after too many humans got caught in the crossfire did the dictator's strikes become more surgical. The media hadn't always been on his side and the initial backlash was tremendous. However, to Julian, and sadly to the majority of the population, it was just the cost of getting the job done. It was not easy to win a war when the opposing side was willing to get their hands a lot dirtier.

The pup dumped the rest of the tar like liquid into his mouth as he tossed the paper back onto a uneven splinter ridden plywood table. Shouldering his pack that had been sitting on the chair next to him, the fox slid black leather gloves over his paws, fastening them tight so that his tendons shown through the matt black fabric. Slowly, he approached the girl at the counter, being careful not loose eye contact with her. She needed to stay quiet, but it didn't need to be done the hard way.

"What do I owe you for the coffee and paper?"

"I know who you are," she proclaimed through a meek voice while stealing glances down at his two tails. "I have seen you on the news."

The kit smiled at the notion of being famous, but this was what he had been afraid of. Reaching into a pocket on his combat vest, he produced a note of the largest denomination of currency and set it on the counter between them.

"Will this cover it?"

Her eyes betrayed her thoughts as they widened at the sight of so much money, but she remained quiet. Money was next to useless to the Resistance aside from buying the most basic of goods. They had all the weapons they would ever need. Anything else could simply be stolen. Tails produced another bill of the same amount and placed it gently on top of the first.

"Do you know my name?" He asked.

It was a pointless question, there weren't many two-tailed foxes.

"Miles Prower," she responded quickly, eying the money still.

"And how about yours?" he asked as he scanned her wrinkled dress shirt for a nametag.

She hesitated for sometime before responding, "Mara."

"Well Mara," Tails began, "It's nice to meet you. Now that we both know each other I was hoping we could come to an agreement."

The girl looked back at him inquisitively, almost enjoying the notion of making a deal with the devil.

"Perhaps," Tails said as he theatrically produced a third bill, "we could agree that a fox with only one Tail was here this morning?"

Mara slid a hand across the counter; hastily grabbing the money while she looked out across the diner to make sure no one else was around.

Satisfied that he had won her over, the kit turned to leave, but not before she could speak again, "What are you here for? The only time I ever hear anything about you is after someone is dead."

The media made him out to be an assassin, cruel and relentless. Although there was an occasional truth to her words.

"No one that didn't deserve it," Tails assured her without turning back to face his new friend.

"No one here deserves anything you got for them, fox." She replied in a cool almost smug voice.

Like all humans, she though the kit beneath her. Tails spun around and slammed his fist into the counter, letting his teeth hang over a quivering bottom lip. Mara recoiled backwards in both fear and surprise, letting out a small gasp that may have been meant to be a scream until she thought better of it.

"You don't think I know what any of this is like!" he growled as he motioned to the deteriorating state of her diner. "Having your home destroyed, people you love killed, or even things worse than that. I am not here to make trouble for any of you."

For a moment Tails thought he could spot a small helping of pity in her eyes, but it was quickly washed away in fear filled stream of tears. The girl seemed to break down in front of him.

Great, he thought, and now I have to deal with this. Tails walked around to the other side of the counter, slowly approaching Mara as she backed herself into a corner and curled into a ball. He had forgotten how fragile the human creature's emotions could be.

Cautiously he reached down and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling the girl back to her feet. Surprisingly, she didn't resist his touch, allowing him to walk her back the same table he had been sitting at.

Pulling up another chair Tails waited for her sobs to dissipate before speaking, "You are braver than you look kid. But my guess is living in a place like this will do that do you. How many people do you know that have died here?"

She sobbed again and the water works doubled but her voice came out somewhat defiant all the same, "What's it to you?"

Tails raised an eyebrow, "Well I didn't kill them did I?"

"No, but you may as well have," she nearly spat. "You brought this war to our town."

Tails wanted to laugh, however, that wouldn't have been fair to do. The kingdom of Acorn had never wanted any type of conflict, but their paws had been forced into defending themselves.

"We didn't start this, your government did. They bombed this place to hell because a few of us lived here. Of course they didn't bother give two shits that you or anyone you knew was here. I suppose that's our fault too."

She didn't respond, only stared at him with ripples in her eyes as tears slowly fell down her soft rosy cheeks.

"You and I, we're not so different. I bet your parents are dead too."

She shot an angry look at him that only confirmed the fact.

"My parents died in the first attack," Tails began calmly as if it were the hundredth time he had told the story, "back when no one ever saw it coming. We were labeled as terrorist, so excessive force was deemed 'acceptable'," the kit continued as he picked up the pot of coffee and poured her a drink, "and anyone who was caught in the crossfire was just another casualty of war. But those are just words, it was still murder."

"I know it's easy to blame us," the two-tailed fox went on as her breathing steadied, "but do me a favor and think about it from our side... and I mean the side you know, not that garbage that's written in the papers. Only people like you really know what happened."

Mara nodded in agreement, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I lost my temper, it's me who should be sorry. People see me and they are afraid because of what the wanted posters and news casters say, not because they know me."

The truth was he was sick of being blamed for things. Enough already weighed on Tails' mind and he wasn't about to let this girl offload her life's tribulations onto his conscious.

Tails grabbed his trench coat from the hook by the door and threw it on. Two-tailed foxes tended to stick out in a small town. With a delicate glance back, the kit fumbled for the doorknob, leaving the girl in a state hardly better than the one he found her in.

"You are welcome back any time," Mara called after him.

Tails only nodded as he pushed his way into a cool morning illuminated by the dull black sky and faded yellow glow of street lamps. A deep inhalation put Tails' mind at ease. His target was a few blocks away, but his feet were in no hurry to get there.

Even this early in the morning people were out and about, more often than not stumbling around in a drunken state. Many passed him with a wide berth, keeping well and clear of a not so inconspicuous Mobian. Some wander past without giving the vulpine with a burnt sienna muzzle a second thought. Others stopped and to do the appropriate amount of staring.

A patrol car parked a block away caught the young fox's eye. Tails knew better than to duck down an alley way and draw unwanted suspicion. With his hands buried deep in his pockets and the collar on his jacket folded high, the kit just kept walking. The start of the engine as he strode by the copper was as inevitable as the crunching of gravel beneath the tires as the police vehicle crept up along side him.

"Aye, buddy, you got papers?" The copper asked while rolling down the window.

Tails purposefully stumbled as he turned to face the cop. With as little coordination as the fox could muster, he reached inside his jacket for some false documents. With luck he would appear like nothing more than one of the many vagrants wandering the street. He was certain his sagging eyelids would help play the part.

The copper was quick to yanks the documents from his hands, "What are you do'n out here this time o'night."

The kit just stared at him blankly, they both knew it wasn't a serious question.

"Oh get lost you drunkard," the man said as he flung the papers back into Tails' chest. "I don't want to see you around here no more."

The kit was happy to oblige, pocketing the documents before resuming his evening stroll despite the fact he could feel the copper's eyes buried into the back of his scull like two ice picks. After he rounded the corner, Tails knew it was the last he would see of him. Small town coppers were too used to nothing happening to lift much more than a single finger. They just liked to feel important but rarely liked to do any real work.

The steel factory loomed in the distance, its silhouette barley traceable against the early morning sky. After Sonic had begun to make a mockery Julian's supply line in populated cities, the need for materials was outsourced to places like this where 'mishaps' went more unnoticed. In truth it was one of the best things to happen for the resistance yet. The further away they were from the Dominion's control, the more relaxed security was.

When Tails arrived at the cheap woven aluminum fence that encircled his target, he ducked into the shadows behind a small wooden shed. Rummaging though his pack, the fox found the tools of his trade, clipping a holstered Beretta to his belt and donning pair of combat glasses.

The HUD came to life on the lenses slowing bringing details of the world around him to life. When he removed his pistol the HUD registered it as both loaded and chambered. With a few twists he affixed a small silencer to the end of the weapon's barrel, making it every bit as stealthy as he was.

At the bottom of his bag was an aerosol can. A small metallic ball clanked anxiously against the sides as he gave it a generous shake. What appeared to be nothing more than spray paint was in fact an extraordinarily corrosive solvent. The moment the liquid touched air it would oxidize and dissolve almost any type of metal. Carving out a small hole in the fence only took seconds, the honeycomb shaped barrier crumbling into dust before his eyes.

The steel factory was sparsely lit with same faint yellow lamps the lined the streets, making it easy to move around the building unseen and unheard. However, all of the entrances still had guards posted. Tails had already scouted out the whole facility and knew that whoever had the southeast post had drawn the short straw for tonight.

Creeping along the ground, the fox's ears began to detect the faint sound of late TV shows could be heard emanating from the small guardhouse. This was always the hard part, and for more reasons than one. This poor sap was either about to die or wake up with the worst headache of his life. Tails tried to tell himself that this guy had already picked his side when he signed up for security with the cronies, but this far outside of a Dominion held city it was more likely that this guy just needed the money.

With his back pressed firm against the hut, Tails fumbled for the wires that snaked into its innards. The HUD in his glasses highlighted which wires had current flowing through them. With a quick flick of his knife the TV went quiet and the lights went out, but to his surprise nothing followed. When he stood up he found the guard snoring softly, asleep in his chair.

"Lazy ass," the kit muttered to himself.

Tails walked up to the door and threw it open. The man snapped awake with a groggy, "what?" but quickly frowned when he found himself staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. The guard inhaled deeply as if to scream, but thought better of it when Tails pressed a single finger against his lips.

"Keys," the kit said softly.

Cautiously the man reached for his belt and unclipped the keys, doing his best to avoid any sudden movements.

"Thanks," the fox replied as he tore them from his hand. "Now I need you to stay quiet."

Like all security guards, this one wore bullet proof everything. Bullet proof however, was hardly coinciding with pain free. The man saw what was coming, but before he could yell for help there was high-pitched tink followed quickly by low-pitched thunk.

The guard's helmet easily absorbed the lump of lead, but a shot fired at this close of range was a recipe for a concussion. This case was no exception. The man fell limp in his chair snoring more heavily this time.

As he left, Tails slid the door to the guardhouse close. Now all he needed to do was blow up Julian's shiny new factory. His fur stood on end, right down to the tips of his two tails, bristling in the cool morning wind. With a new surge of adrenalin the two tailed fox made for the door.

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