Shades of Grey by Pundit | Part Nine - Complications
<clostridia@bigfoot.com>

I acknowledge that there are characters in this story which are the property of either Sega or Archie Comics. The story itself, however, is copyrighted to me, and while it may be distributed in any form, must not be altered under any circumstances. You may not derive any profit from this story. Should you wish to contact me, the above email address will suffice. I accept, and welcome comment, criticism, or flames, should you see the need. Thank you.
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She eyed the silver containers scattered all over the floor rather critically, eyes sweeping systematically over each one. Pausing for a moment, she stepped forward, extracting a foil wrapped packet from one of them. And then she turned on her heels, walking briskly back down the crowded passageway, jostling past throngs of her colleagues, favoring an occassional accquaintance with a smile.

In front of her, the temporary command center loomed into view. The center was nothing more than quite a lot of technology crammed into a rather large room, and yet it was the heart and soul of the invasion.

Clusters of consoles dominated the room, scattered around, while swarms of people buzzed around them, creating an insistent hum of conversation. A monolithic bank of servers lined a wall, and a colossal projection screen mounted opposite threatened to engulf everything.

She grinned. It was fun being a fly on the wall as history was being made. Even as a humble technician, she appreciated being given the chance to serve this cause, in whatever way she was capable.

Which was why the psychotropic contents of the syringe she carried didn't trouble her.

***

Her breath came in rapid gasps, as she unholstered her blaster, taking aim. Around her, the other three were rushing forwards, poised and ready. She gripped it just right, not too tense, not to loosely, shoulders braced against the wall.

Target.

She drew a breath, holding it, even as the gun seemed to become one with her. Swiftly, she squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession, noting the falling Legionnaire with grim satisfaction, even as she ducked back into a cleft in the wall, waiting for the capacitor to recharge.

My instructors would have been so proud.

In front of her, she took in the fight with a glance. They seemed to be doing fine, particularly the crocodile, whose sweeps with the tail gave him quite an advantage against massed enemies. The other two, a bruiser and a highly sneaky fighter, seemed to be holding their own too.

The real problem, she sighed, came from the almost constant, neverending waves of attacks the Legion was throwing at them. They were off balance, constantly harassed, and holed up in a building with inoperable communications.

Her shoulders and thighs ached with fatigue, crying out for rest, and she could see that the other three were distinctly slower and less alert than before. Running her tongue over her teeth, she felt the now empty space that gave her a gap in her smile. She was sure they couldn't keep this up indefinitely.

Where are you, Knux?

***

His subject stood in front of him, presenting a stark contrast between the two of them. One immaculately dressed, moving with the easy grace of a predator. The other, haggard, with a very worried look, and a slumping, defeated demeanor.

Definitely defeated, he thought.

Without looking, he stuck out a hand to his side, robotic palm up. A tray was placed in it. With expertly practiced motions, the syringe was lifted, and delicately rammed into a plastic ampoule. Moving so quickly the motion barely registered, he took a step forward, plunging the needle into the neck of the hapless politician with balletic grace. The politician was too shocked to cry out.

Then, just as quickly, he whipped the syringe out, replacing it on the tray, as it was unobtrusively removed by one of his assistants. There was a certain pride in doing things just right, aiming for the vein, and not fumbling, missing, or making any other mistake. Glad to see he still possessed his touch, even while inhabiting a metallic avatar. The subject was pale now, mouth agape, as the drug worked its magic in his mind.

Molecules, ions, seeking out their targets, and making their way into the biochemistry of the recipient, as slowly and surely as the tide.

He was particularly gratified to hear the scream.

***

He braced against the side of the hovercraft, panting a little from the excitement. Behind him, he could hear the faint, deadly whisper of blaster shots, dissipating harmlessly against the armored sides of the hovercraft like droplets of water in a skillet. Time for a change of plan.

He looked at the others, similarly positioned. They were ready.

And in the blink of an eye, they were charging, charging towards the entrance of the building where the pinned down group was holding off far greater numbers. It was a risky tactic, even at the best of times, but they were gambling on both fatigue and surprise to give them an edge.

He was dodging and weaving, running like a maniac, towards the common goal, narrowly avoiding the multitude of shots that lanced the air around him. A beam grazed the edge of his hand, bouncing off the dense metal plating like a harmless insect. Then they were among the defenders, swarming en masse like so many ants overrunning a helpless spider.

There was movement to his side, which he dodged, as the edge of a hand arced harmlessly over his head. He didn't stop to think, as instinct took over, and drove his fist upwards into the chin of his opponent, explosively twisting off the floor. The opponent gave a distinctly female cry of rage.

Then his legs were swept out from under him, as the female simultaneously lifted a blaster, pointing it at one of his eyes. He could see the finger tighten, and decided not to wait for the rest. So he did the best thing possible in the circumstances.

He slapped her.

As she flinched, cheek reddening from the sting, he took advantage of the distraction to disarm her, sending the firearm crashing to the floor. It skittered away, under a bush.

For a moment, the two of them squared off, circling slowly, and malevolently eyeing each other. Then she leapt at him, kicking and punching with almost frightening speed and force. It was all he could do to block the attacks, much less dodge them.

A quick kick to his stomach sent him reeling, but he recovered just in time to avoid the followup, patiently waiting for her to tire. And she did tire after awhile, slowing down, with greater hesitation between kicks and less force applied with them.

His patience was rewarded with a very clear opening. He swept his arm forward, forcing it into her face, smiling with wry satisfaction as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she crashed to the floor.

***

They were walking down the street, in a dilapidated, empty slum. Everyone, it seemed, was cowering behind locked doors in fear. And yet, despite the current situation, and the recent events, his hood was down for the first time in a long time, the metal parts underneath blinking in the sun. The wind softly caressed his face, refreshing him.

I've never really lived.

Then he turned, glancing at his counterpart, who had a rather worried look.

'So... uh... how's Julie?'

He could feel the tension that crept up on the two of them, a hesitant, uneasy tension. There was awkwardness in his voice, and indeed, he felt incredibly odd asking this. There wasn't exactly a healthy relationship between himself and his half sister. She probably wouldn't ever forget the way he despised her mother, Mari, or the unrelenting, almost cruel way he made fun of her as a child.

And yet, on some level, deep down, he did care about her.

There was quite a pregnant pause before the reply was fired back.

'Why would you care?'

He opened his mouth to reply, but an electronic beep cut him off. Locke fiddled with his handheld for a moment.

'Heads up, everyone. Patched redirect transmission from Haven, coming from the broadcasting station. Both the Chaotix and the EST have been unable to hold the position... um... they're being overrun by the Legion. They managed to defeat the jamming for a couple of minutes, to get this message to us.'

He could see Knuckles' face turn pale, and the worried statement, if anything, became more pronounced.

'Let's go.'

***

'Welcome back, chancellor.'

Dimitri's metallic voice, he thought, trying to drive the suffocating heaviness out of his brain. He was reclining on some sort of padded chair, and could make out two fuzzy figures above.

'Scan shows full effect of drug, sir. All higher decision-making functions have been altered.'

'Excellent. Dismissed.'

Dimitri turned to the rapidly recovering senator, a vaguely malicious grin on his metal face.

'Let's talk about ambition, shall we?

***

She was lying spreadeagled on the floor, a trickle of blood flowing from the open cut in her face, half conscious. At irregular intervals, she drifted in and out of wakefulness, but she was sure of two things. One, that her body had seen better days, and two, that there was a heck of a struggle going on around her.

Not that she cared of course. She simply wanted to drift of into the soothing realm of sleep. And drift she did.

The last thing she was aware of was a pair of hands gently cradling her head.

***

'You've been out for some time.'

She struggled to open her eyes, only partially succeeding. A crumbly crust of dried blood covered her right eye and forehead, cracking in an unseemly fashion as her eyelids lifted. The rather concerened face of Locke hovered over her.

'I'll get Knuckles.'

She nodded weakly, as she pushed herself up on her elbows, taking in the rest of the room, which was a shambles. Rubble, splatters of blood, and other byproducts of a fight littered the floor.

'Julie!'

She saw him run in, so concerned, and yet so glad she was awake and relatively fine.

'Guess it's my turn to get beaten up, isn't it?'

He grinned, appreciating the reference. Then he became serious.

'There's someone you should meet.'

She arched an eloquent eyebrow.

'Hardly the best time for introductions.'

'I think you know him better than I do.'

A cloaked figure paused in the doorway, the light behind him forming a silhouette, shading his face. She didn't need to see any more to know who it was.

'You!'

***

'I think I'll accept those terms.'

'I knew you'd see the light, senator. I look forward to working with you. But now, I must insist you begin immediately. I trust you know the value of quick and decisive action.'

'Quite right, Dimitri. Indeed.'

He walked out of the room, smiling a little, as Dimitri turned to an aide.

'Get me the latest update on Plan Gargoyle.'

Oh, if only you knew, senator.

***

'I know you hate me. I once thought I hated you. But I don't.'

'Why?'

'Because, all the while, I never had the guts to think for myself, unlike you. Oh, that and your half-sister died rescuing me from the EST. Did Remington tell you?'

'Lien?'

Her eyes widened in surprise, as his trademark humorless grin returned, only this time, it was little subdued.

'Guess not, then. I do care about you more than you think.'

'We'll see, half-brother. We'll see.'

***

'Oh, blast it.'

His fingers danced, tapping and clicking. Above him, the visage of that senator filled the screen, accompanied by a strident, assured voice.

'Countrymen! People of Echidnaopolis! For too long, we have labored under the delusion that technology is an evil force. But this is not so. Together with the Dark Legion, we will form a new society, where technology is both a tool and a passion! We will dominate this planet as the dominant species nature intended us to be! And I will expose to you the lies perpetuated by the Guardians, and those who would claim evil of technology!

Come! Join this noble cause, and stand with me!'

'Are you getting this?'

'We underestimated the power of mass media, didn't we? Control the media, control the mind. The people bend to the words of those in power, and he's certainly got the charm.'

'Obviously. How did they get to him? Wasn't he one of the staunchest anti-technology fronters?'

'Tough one there. We'll have to do some thinking.'

***

'Have you prepared the gas vaporisers for the council meeting our dear senator arranged?'

'Yes sir. We have enough for twenty five people. As of now, there is a team working on installing the vents in the room.'

'Excellent. So, it's all falling into place.'

I do so love happy endings.