“Beginning awakening process…”

As a computerized voice rang out, I felt myself beginning to move towards the first true wakefulness I’d experienced in… Well, I didn’t know for sure, though I had an unfortunate guess.

Until now, it’d only been a mix of total unconsciousness and a state that wasn’t quite dream but also wasn’t quite full wakefulness either. That nebulous in-between state had been pleasant, horrifying, meditative…and rage-filled depending on the moment.

Now, it was time to see what I had to deal with. However, if it was them waking me from my forced stasis, well, I hoped they had brought their big guns….They were going to need them.

With a final hiss, my stasis pod opened, and I sat up to see just who had dared to release (free?) me. It was a disappointment, though for one brief moment I thought I’d seen something I’d accepted was likely an impossibility during my, probably, long period of confinement…and I couldn’t help thinking how extremely fortunate Maria had been that she looked almost nothing like her grandfather, despite all the other good qualities she’d so obviously inherited from him.

I was pretty sure the same couldn’t be said for the human male looking at me with an intense amount of interest right now. From his bald head and outrageous mustache to his rather…rotund…figure, the resemblance to what had to be one of his relatives was unmistakable. However, from his expression alone, I already doubted their characters were anywhere near the same.

Still, it was time to get on with this (whatever it would turn out to be).

“And you would be?”

I attempted to ask neutrally, though I don’t think I managed to keep the scorn (and disappointment) out of my voice very well. But, maybe he would just take it as crankiness at being recently awakened?

Despite having paid such close attention to me, he started a bit when I spoke before pulling himself together and attempting to answer in a way that he probably meant to seem refined. I just thought it made him sound like a pompous ass.

“Ah, yes…please excuse my discourtesy. I am the great…” Pfft, really? “...Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the grandson of the late Dr. Gerald Robotnik.”

Damn. I mean it’s what I expected…but, in spite of everything, still I’d hoped that maybe he might have been….

“...I’d recently discovered that my grandfather’s greatest project was being secretly ‘stored’ here and came to retrieve it from those who were clearly unworthy of his work. I can admit I was quite…surprised…when I learned the true nature of the ‘project’…”

Having seen it out of the corner of my eye, I turned my head a bit to take in an active monitor that rather clearly displayed the title “Project Shade” as well as a large image of myself and several other details related to G.U.N.’s secret, and extremely illegal, bioengineering project before turning my attention back to the still speaking doctor.

“...but it’s clear they had even less right to it, I mean, to you than I had thought….”

Careful, doctor, I think you might be revealing a bit more than you intend about how you really think about me.

“...I am glad however that I was able to discover this location and free you from the unjust imprisonment they had subjected you to….”

He trailed off then, clearly waiting to see if I had any comments…or, more obviously, a ‘thank you’ for his having ‘freed’ me from my horrible predicament, entirely out of the goodness of his heart I’m sure I was expected to believe. Instead, I looked down at myself.

I was glad to see that at least they’d left me clothed before putting me into stasis, though my fur and spines did cover quite a bit even without them. Still, as high spec as my gear was, I’m not sure how long I wanted to keep what I knew to be a modified G.U.N. tactical suit. Probably not any longer than it took me to get a replacement.

Though, I wouldn’t have any trouble keeping the ultra-durable (probably near indestructible, if I’m being honest) running shoes. Those were purely a Dr. Gerald and Maria collaboration. I’m so glad though that I talked the two out of adding the jet boosters to them. I love them both but geniuses and their overly enthusiastic genius grandchildren can get some pretty silly ideas sometimes.

Realizing I had been ignoring the doctor for a while now and that he was beginning to look rather impatient for a response, I repositioned myself within the stasis pod and, just because I could, did a flip from my seated position, landing on my feet only a few inches in front of him. Unsurprisingly, this startled the ‘good’ doctor quite a bit and nearly caused him to fall backwards on his fat ass.

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Amused at his reaction, I offered what he had clearly been fishing for earlier.

“...Thanks.”

I’m sure he could tell just how overwhelming my feelings of gratitude were towards him, though he was probably more distracted by trying to get his heart rate back below 100. While he dealt with that, I went over to the still active computer station and began combing through the files available there, noting that the doctor had apparently already examined them quite thoroughly.

Sensing when he eventually managed to recover enough to approach me, I spoke up, though I didn’t bother turning around. He didn’t deserve that much of my attention.

“You know, it’s usually considered impolite to go through a lady’s…” I heard a snort. Yeah, that just lost you some more points, buddy. “...personal details without asking first.”

Beyond the undeserved moment of skepticism at the authenticity of my feminine qualities, his subsequent reply showed that, apparently, he'd likely mostly decided to ignore my little stunt earlier.

“Apologies, as I explained, I had little knowledge of the nature of ‘Project Shade’ before arriving here. The files were however very helpful in knowing how to safely undo the stasis procedure.”

I restrained myself from letting out a snort of my own. It was clear he was back to trying to sell himself as my savior. Still, seeing that so much of my ‘life’ had been laid out before him, with all of the omissions and whitewashing they’d done to what was even supposed to be their own highly classified files, wasn’t very comfortable. I couldn’t help commenting with a very obvious amount of bitterness.

“Well, now you know, G.U.N.’s very illegal attempt to produce a modified Mobian supersoldier, what they dubbed the ‘Ultimate Lifeform’, the pretentious asses.” I mean, as much as I appreciated my own qualities, even I wouldn’t go quite that far in describing myself.

Regardless of G.U.N.’s questionable naming practices, the story behind “Project Shade,” while not pleasant, was not surprising really.

Approximately 40 years before my ‘birth’, there was an event that no one really understood, but was suspected to have a connection with the simultaneous introduction of Chaos energy and Chaos Emeralds and the transportation of about 5 million, as at least some of the humans probably still liked to think of them, ‘animal’ persons onto Earth, though known to themselves, and later officially, as ‘Mobians’ (‘Mobius’ having been the planet they’d previously lived on and unexpectedly disappeared from - though where exactly Mobius was in relation to Earth no one really knew, neither planet, or race, having even heard of the other before).

This would have certainly gone incredibly badly for both sides if Mobians weren’t both incredibly strong and unusually peaceful as a whole. Attempts to attack these ‘invaders’ by Earth natives were largely ineffective, and yet the Mobians mostly reacted only in a defensive manner, rather than attempting to fight back in any truly aggressive way. Fast forward about a year or two, it had been largely accepted by the native people of Earth that Mobians were just as much the victims, and arguably more so, in this unexpected development as they were, and eventually respective citizenship had been granted to Earth’s new residents by essentially every civilized nation on the planet, to integrate them in as the now, apparently, permanent and surprisingly cooperative residents they were.

Still, despite the eventual peaceful outcome, the initial ‘war’ with the Mobians both worried and intrigued a number of figures in Earth’s governments, and it was decided that perhaps it would be useful to have some of that Mobian strength unquestionably on ‘their’ side. Who knows, perhaps these Mobians weren’t as peaceful as they currently made themselves out to be, or, even so, who could guarantee that at least one day they would no longer be quite so friendly towards Earth’s native populace?

Unfortunately, it was decided that the most promising approach to dealing with this ‘problem’ would be with the assistance and leadership of the renowned geneticist Dr. Gerald Robotnik (who, by the way, was also a renowned engineer, mathematician, physicist, chemist, metallurgist, computer programmer….Honestly, it would be simpler just to list what he wasn’t considered an expert in…maybe 3rd-century basket weaving?). At the time, Dr. Gerald was looking into the newly available Mobian genome with the hope that insights gained from this research would lead to being able to treat previously incurable diseases, most particularly the genetic disorder with which his young granddaughter, Maria, had recently been tragically diagnosed, Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome (N.I.D.S.), also known as the “Slow Death” (due to it being inevitably fatal and draining the health and strength of its victims over a long, and increasingly painful, period of time).

As I eventually learned, Dr. Gerald had initially tried to refuse accepting involvement with “Project Shade,” but, through threats of cutting the funding needed for his current research and the assurance that, with or without him, the project would go ahead, he was forced to accept. Had he ultimately refused, it would have made his quest for a cure for Maria all but hopeless, and, moreover, he clearly feared the directions the new project would go with another, far less ethical, scientist at its head.

The end result of all this was…well…me.

Though I’d had plenty of time to reflect during my long period of forced inactivity, seeing it all laid out before me, with several of the reports even being Dr. Gerald’s own, I found myself deeply unsettled. When I got to the G.U.N. after action report concerning the raid on the ARK station, launched mainly because it was determined that the head scientist, Dr. Gerald Robotnik, was likely making plans to abscond with the “Project” and that said “Project” had, indeed, been showing evidence of a troubling loyalty to Dr. Robotnik….and the associated list of casualties from the raid, I saved a copy of all the files onto a data stick, placed it in one of my vest’s pockets, and then punched my fist through the computer screen.

I didn’t care about the squawk of surprise and alarm from my till then (thankfully) silent observer as I pulled my fist out of the now smoking and sparking mess. It wasn’t enough.

“Come on. It’s time to go.”

With that statement/command, I began to stride angrily out of my erstwhile prison, while the doctor followed reluctantly behind me.

All the while, I was certain of one thing…G.U.N. was going to burn. And, for the moment, I didn’t care if everything else burned with them.