Officer Clements was lamenting his lot in life. He’d just earned his badge and rather than be assigned to the current excitement occurring in downtown Echidnapolis he was stuck in the reception booth of the minimum security facility. Remington had ordered everything locked down when the majority of the troops had been dispatched to deal with whatever it was that was going on out there.

“Nothing ever happens here…” He muttered to himself. “Why do I always get stuck with the dud detail?”

Then the lights flickered and died, but only for a moment, the auxiliary power kicking in before it was barely noticed.

“Guess they power station got hit…” He mumbled to himself. “Wish I was out there doing something constructive…”

His words trailed off as a shadow fell across him. He looked up into a broad, black clad chest. His gaze continued upwards until he found himself looking into a pale, stoic face, mostly hidden within the folds of the familiar hood of a Dark Legionnaire.

“Be careful what ya wish fer…” The Legionnaire said in a dark whisper.

Clements moved to slam a hand down on the large red alarm button but the Legionnaire punched right through the bullet proof glass, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed his head against what was left of the glass before his hand had moved a centimetre.

The Legionnaire studied him for a moment, then ripped the ID card from his shirt. He let Clements fall to the floor, then turned the key in the desk that opened the main doors. He watched in silence as they ground open on a long, featureless corridor, lined with a series of barred walls and grates. All designed to keep the inmates in.

He stepped into the narrow hallway, grabbed the door set into the first barrier and ripped it clean of its hinges. He continued forward, shoving, pushing, tearing, bending and rending each set of door he came to. If he noticed the video cameras turning as they tracked his progress he paid them no mind.

He didn’t stop until he came to an almost featureless wall. He ran a finger along the barely discernable seam that marked the entrance to the prison proper, there was no way he could get any kind of grip on it, no way he could pull this door open. He rapped it with his knuckles, the solid resounding telling him it was several inches thick. He wouldn’t be able to punch his way through it either. And this was their MINIMAL security prison? He wondered what they installed for maximum security…

There was a small glass screen to the right-hand side of the door…a scanner of some sort…but what did it scan? He turned Clements’s ID card over in his hands…perhaps it was an entry key of some sort? But there didn’t seem to be any kind of slot in the scanning device to accommodate it. He was still pondering this when he heard the whine of a laser weapon powering up next to his ear. He moved his head ever so slightly to catch the weapon’s holder with his peripheral vision. He knew him from his mission briefing. The head of the EST…Constable Remington…

“You’ll find you need a palm scan of a high ranking officer to get through that door, mate.” The dark brown echidna growled at him.

He moved faster than Remington would have thought possible, slapping the gun away with one hand while grabbing him just above the elbow with the other, twisting it just as quickly. There was a resounding snap, followed by a blinding pain, and Remington suddenly found his arm had more angles than it had a moment ago.

The Legionnaire then grabbed him by the wrist of his injured arm, forcing an agonised gasp from him, and slammed his palm against the scanner, which automatically activated.

“Thanks for the tip…” The Legionnaire said evenly as a green light and an echoing ping told them both that access had been granted.

Remington instinctively pulled his broken arm tightly to his body as soon as the Legionnaire released him, watching him as he watched the door glide slowly open. His face, the only part of him he could see, was impassive, totally emotionless, there wasn’t a trace of the usual Legionnaire arrogant superiority.

He would have smiled as the Legionnaire stepped through the now open door if the pain in his arm would have allowed it. They may have housed the now completely biological former leaders of the Dark Legion in this minimum security facility, but that didn’t mean that weren’t prepared for when their troops came to their rescue. This final door was not only difficult to get through, it housed an impressive set of metal detectors, designed to target and disable the Legion’s cybernetic implants. It didn’t matter how strong the guy was, in a moment his technological enhancement would be next to useless.

The Legionnaire paused at the hum of electronics, glanced at the soft glow that emanated from the doorframe that surrounded him…then continued on his way completely unaffected.

“This can’t be good.” Remington muttered. He hauled himself gingerly to his feet, still protecting his injured arm. If technology wasn’t going to stop this guy, he’d just have to do it the old fashioned way.

~~~~~~

“Whoa!” Was all Mighty could think of to say as he took in the destruction. Iron doors torn off their hinges, crumpled and tossed away as if they were little more than pieces of scrap paper.

“Can Knux call it or what?” Vector snorted.

“C’mon.” Mighty said as he began down the corridor. “We have to stop them…”

Vector grabbed his arm to stop him. “Do we really want to go after echidnas that can do this!?” He pointed at the twisted metal. “Have you any idea what they could do to flesh and blood?”

“Vector…” Mighty smiled. “I can do this.”

“Good point.” He muttered. “Okay…fine…let’s go…” He added with a sigh.

~~~~~~

Remington ran after the Legionnaire, ignoring the pain in his arm as every step jostled it. He’d found his weapon, but it had been knocked from his hand with such force it was useless.

The Legionnaire didn’t appear to be in any kind of hurry. He’d pause at each cell door he came to, read the nameplate that identified its occupant, and move on. It was pretty obvious who he was looking for…and Remington just couldn’t allow him to succeed. He charged him, planting the shoulder of his good arm squarely between his shoulder blades, howling with pain as the jolt from the impact travelled across his own shoulders and down his injured arm.

The blow should have sent the Legionnaire sprawling, but he was not only still on his feet, it didn’t appear to have had an effect on him at all. He lifted Remington easily by his shirt front so that they were eye to eye.

“Yer becomin’ a nuisance.” He growled, then threw him against the far wall. Remington crumpled to the floor and didn’t move.

He didn’t see the Legionnaire squat down beside him, check his pulse, shift him so he was lying on his back and place the broken arm gently across his chest. He then removed his cloak, gently laying it over the fallen warrior to keep him warm lest he go into shock. It was a strangely compassionate move for a member of a society that held all others with total contempt…

He returned to his mission, studying the names engraved by the cell doors until he finally found the one he was looking for, several floors above where he’d originally entered. He flicked a switch and the apparently solid door, really a force field, became transparent, a steady, reddish glow around the doorframe the only indication that it was still active.

The echidna within was fairly ordinary looking now that his cybernetics had been returned to flesh and blood.

~~~~~~

It wasn’t hard to follow their quarry’s trail, the Dark Legion had never been known for their subtlety. All thoughts of the Dark Legion were forgotten however when they found Remington.

The echidna was just coming around, and almost screamed when he forgot what had happened and tried to get up. The pair winced when the black cloak fell away and they saw the swollen and strangely angled arm.

“Let’s get you to some medical attention…” Mighty began.

“No!” He protested. “You’ve got to stop him!”

“HIM!?” Vector’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me that all this…” He gestured widely around himself to indicate the damage. “…was done by ONE GUY!?”

Remington nodded. “He’s strong and he’s fast…he could give both Sonic and Knuckles a run for their money.”

“’Cos he’s probably been made up out of them.” Vector muttered.

“Excuse me?” Remington frowned.

“We have reason to believe that the Dark Legion have been dabbling in a little genetic engineering and manipulation.” Mighty smirked grimly.

“I was wondering as to his origin…” A cold voice intoned evenly. “He does not appear to be the usual Legionnaire…”

The trio turned to face the speaker, a rather non-descript looking echidna with dark brown fur and cruel eyes. But it was not the flesh and blood Xenin that commanded their attention…it was the echidna at his side.

He was tall for an echidna, fur so dark a purple in the shadows of the hallway it almost appeared black. Remington had said he was fast, a gift from Sonic’s DNA, but it was obvious that he possessed a far greater amount of Knuckles’ genetic material. He shared the spurs that were the Guardian’s namesake, but not only on his hands. They erupted from his knees, his shoulders, even his eyebrows, a ridge of them ran up each forearm.

“Madre…” Mighty whispered.

“These freaks just keep getting weirder and weirder…” Vector commented.

“Who are you callin’ a freak?” The nightmarish version of Knuckles growled.

“You looked in a mirror lately, pal?” The crocodile arced brow.

The heavily spurred echidna obviously had a very short fuse. Only Vector’s natural agility and Mighty’s prodigious strength stopped him from feeding the crocodile his teeth.

“I know Vector can be a pain…” Mighty admitted. “But we would kinda like to keep him in one piece.”

“Besides…” A new voice entered the conversation. “Somehow I get the feeling he’s not the one you were created to deal with.”

Knuckles’ deep violet eyes locked with the purple echidna’s equally deep green ones. He dropped into a fighting stance as the Legionnaire clenched his spurred fists and twisted his arms. The spurs on his forearms shifted until they stood out at approximately ninety degrees.

“You may be right…”