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Jamison Broadway
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"Just put out apparently," Jamison managed, his voice calm and steady, as he clicked the safety back on his rifle. The sound echoed through the air, a stark contrast to the soft chirping of the birds that had recently started nesting in the tree branches above. He lowered his weapon, still trying to process how...young the other hedgehog was. "I saw there was some trouble and thought I'd lend a hand."
"Eh, appreciate the sentiment," Sonic adjusted his gloves with a quick flick of his wrist, his eyes scanning the area with casual but practiced precision. His vibrant blue quills shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting his unwavering determination. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he aimed a thumb at the echidna standing beside him. "Looks like this guy had everything under control until we showed up," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of playful banter. His emerald-green eyes sparkled mischievously, mirroring the energy that radiated from him. "Speaking of, you're awfully far from HQ, Commander Knuckles."
"Ugh, don't remind me," The echidna shuddered, putting a hand to his face. The rough texture of his knuckles contrasted with the softness of his fur. "It was easier when all this was about saving the world but now that we're rebuilding," he sighed, shaking his head. "The paperwork is exhausting. And I've got to get back to my people eventually."
"Ah, I hear ya. Amy tried to get me to enlist full time." Sonic chuckled, rolling his eyes. The sound reverberated through the air like a joyous melody. "I'll stick with the freelance life though. Less red tape."
Suddenly, a cacophonous crash shattered the tranquility of their conversation, jolting them into action. The once motionless robot began to stir, its mechanical limbs twitching with a newfound energy. Slowly, it rose from the ground, towering over them like a metallic monstrosity. Its red eyes glowed ominously, casting an eerie glow on the surrounding landscape.
Without missing a beat, Jamison's fingers danced across the rifle, clicking the safety off in one fluid motion. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins as he took aim and fired, the deafening sound of the gunshot echoing through the air. The round found its mark, piercing the robot's eye with surgical precision. With a resounding WHUD and a cloud of dirt and smoke billowing around it, the robot collapsed to the ground, its inner workings exposed and damaged.
Sonic couldn't help but chuckle, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "Well, now it's taken care of. Nice shot!"
"Name's Jamison," he said brusquely, acknowledging their presence with a nod that carried both respect and a hint of wariness.
"Sonic," the blue hedgehog replied, extending his hand in a gesture of camaraderie. His touch was warm and inviting, an embodiment of his adventurous spirit.
"Knuckles," the red echidna grunted, his acknowledgement brief but sincere. His grip was firm and unwavering, a reflection of his unwavering dedication.
"And who's this?" The blue hedgehog gestured at the wisp zipping from the RV. "Friend of yours?"
Jamison nodded. "This is Sparks and-ouch!"
The word was more reflex than out of pain as Sparks angrily jingled and trilled at him, swatting the back of his head with his little arms.
"Hey! Ow. L- look, I was – fine. Fine! Yeah, that was dumb. I won't do it again." In hindsight, he could readily acknowledge the sheer stupidity of his actions in that very moment. The impulsive urge that had propelled him down to this very spot, his mind consumed with the urge to rip the thing apart with his bare hands if he had to.
Mollified, the wisp's angry eyes softened, and he perched on the green hedgehog shoulder.
The other two looked quite entertained by the situation.
Sonic, in particular, was on the verge of bursting with laughter, and Knuckles's lips twitched. Jamison cleared his throat, attempting to regain a modicum of his lost dignity. "So," he began, casually putting the rifle sling over his shoulder. "Yeah, he's a good friend."
As the sun glowed, casting long shadows across the open field before Barricade Town, the trio found themselves standing before the imposing closed gates.
"Nice to meet you both," Sonic began, turning his attention to Knuckles. "What's going on in there?"
Knuckles frowned; his brow furrowing with deep concern. "This town is a hub for distributing Wispons. But the shipments stopped suddenly, so I came to check it out. Something's not right."
Jamison clenched his jaw, suddenly feeling like an outsider in this conversation. Now that the threat was gone, the urgency of his own mission pulsed through his veins, urging him to press forward but now that it was brought to his attention... "Look, I just need fuel for my RV. Can we get inside and get moving?" Scanning the area, he noticed the lack of anyone on the walls.
The town militia should've been raining fire down on the badnick and someone in charge would've come to greet them by now after it was down. "This is odd."
As if on cue, a hatch slid open, and a brown mutt who Jamison had to assume was the gatekeeper stuck his head out now that the coat was clear.
"Yeah," Knuckles nodded, his voice tinged with a sense of authority. He turned to address the gatekeeper, a brown mutt who was peeking over the main tower window now that the coast was clear. "Open the gate. I'm the commander of the resistance, and it's safe now."
The gatekeeper hesitated, his hands trembling with uncertainty. "I-I can't. I've been ordered not to open the gates to anyone."
"By who?" Sonic demanded, his tone sharp and commanding.
The gatekeeper swallowed nervously, his eyes darting from Sonic to Knuckles and back again. Fear mingled with defiance in his gaze as he silently wrestled with his decision. In response, Sonic exchanged a knowing glance with Knuckles, their unspoken understanding cementing their resolve. Without uttering another word, they began to scale the towering walls of Barricade Town, their movements swift and determined.
"Wait, I-" The gatekeeper's eyes widened in shock, but he offered no resistance.
The green hedgehog considered not following. Besides the robot, what was going on here wasn't his business. He just needed to move on. Then he remembered the needle hovering over 'E' and sighed.
With a grunt and taking some steps for a run-up, Jamison charged at the wall and leaped, his boots digging in before he pushed off and propelled himself upward. Sparks squawked as he took to the air alongside him, matching his momentum perfectly. He landed a second or two after Sonic and Knuckles, and he noticed the clear shocked looks on their faces.
The townspeople, however, were what really gave him pause. Everyone scattered, hurrying into buildings or down alleyways, one blue fox in particular bodily tossed himself headlong through an open window to get away from them.
'Great,' Jamison thought, feeling the urge to roll his eyes. 'I'm up to my neck in it now.'
"Badnik attacks?" Knuckles pondered, watching the frightened citizens.
"Maybe," Sonic replied, skepticism creeping into his voice. "But I think there's something more going on here."
Jamison eyed the terrified faces around them and sighed. "I know nothing good is happening here," he admitted, drawing the attention of the two heroes. "It's not just the Badniks. There's a bigger problem in this town."
As if on cue, the voice of the gatekeeper came as he hurriedly climbed down from his watch post and approached Sonic and Knuckles, his voice trembling.
"Y-y-you shouldn't have come here," he whispered, fear etched on his face. "This town... it's not safe."
"Relax," Sonic reassured him. "We can handle whatever's going on. Just tell us what we're up against."
The gatekeeper hesitated, glancing around nervously before continuing. "They've got control of all the Wispons and Wisps in town. We're helpless."
"Who?" Knuckles demanded, his fists clenching in anticipation.
"Two mercenaries," the gatekeeper explained, swallowing hard. "They showed up just before the war ended, drove away Eggman's robots, and saved us all. But then... they took over. Follow me, it's not safe in the open."
Jamison felt a knot forming in his stomach, the familiar weight of responsibility settling upon him. He observed intently as the gatekeeper led them through the narrow streets towards an abandoned market street, the boarded-up windows betraying its disuse.
It wasn't the only building in a similar state. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the very fabric of the town held its breath, waiting for what was to come. He'd drove through many towns like this and all of them were active in their own small ways. Unlike the hustle and bustle of the city, there was always some laughter children playing, music from a radio placed on the counter of some shop, the hammering of nails into wood, a crossing guards whistle...
There was none of that. Save for the few who all but scattered when they came over the wall, there was no one out and about.
Shops were clearly closed, layers of dust fogging the glass or doorways simply locked and barred.
The scenery was so much nicer, he could go so far as to say pleasant, but he recognized this kind of tension all too well.
It set his fangs on edge. It was totally possible this gatekeeper was leading them into a trap. He glanced at Sonic and Knuckles and it was clear as day they had no such suspicions. Jamison couldn't blame them, as far as he knew the war was relatively cozy in this part of the world. They never had to deal with... He shoved the jealousy down, refusing to let himself get bitter. It didn't help then and it wouldn't now.
That didn't stop the rising Irritation at their lax air as they traded quips at one another.
He focused on the one they were following and felt less nervous. The young man clearly wasn't a schemer. If anything, he looked just as nervous by their surroundings as Jamison felt. His head was never still, looking left and right constantly. He'd pause ever so slightly at an intersection to check to see if the way was clear.
If this was a set up into a trap, then whoever picked this guy to be the bait was genuinely stupid. Better that someone acted calm and collected when leading someone to an ambush then as jittery as a hummingbird on a sugar high.
Still...
"Sparks," he said under his breath, barely moving his lips in case they were being watched. "We get to where we're going, stay outside. Overwatch."
The wisp didn't respond audibly but the rising crinkle of his eyes told Jamison he was understood, habit from their time in Tupelo setting in as easy as if they'd never left.
Slowly, imperceptibly to the others, the wisp slowly rose into the air and peeled further and further away above them.
When they did get to their destination, an old tavern as boarded up as almost every other building, Sparks was perfectly out of sight. Anyone uninvited would find themselves sneaking face first into an electric shock.
Jamison paced his steps just quick enough, so he was taking point when their guide shoved open the door. Gripping the well-worn wooden stock of his M1, he stepped in first and subtly thumbed the safety off.
Inside he could see the bars of light coming through the boarded windows, just bright enough to show off the motes of dust fluttering about the air but not much more than that. Yet as his eyes adjusted, Jamison began recognizing the shapes of tables and chairs, and the bar where empty shelves lay behind the counter. It wasn't that much of a jump to imagine the finer spirits and top shelf liquor which would have been displayed on the shelves were part of the mercenary's payment.
After dragging a chair and bracing it against the door shut behind them, the gatekeeper walked further into the dark with the kind of familiarity that told the hedgehog owned the place or once worked here.
Flipping a switch on the wall, the lights brightened up the place considerably and Jamison decided now was the time to break the ice.
"Jamison Broadway, good to meet you." He reached out a hand which the gatekeeper took, his grip surprisingly firm considering the anxiousness written across his face.
"Al," he managed then shook the hands of Sonic and Knuckles. "And I already know who you two are."
"Good to meet you too, uh..." Sonic trailed off, waiting for the introduction. "Wexel," the gatekeeper finished, giving his full name. "Al Wexel. This was my place before... well," he gestured around the room, as if it needed any explanation. The gatekeeper took them to a back room that was hidden behind the bar. Jamison noted the few remaining dusty bottles sitting forgotten on the shelves and wondered how long it had been since anyone had a good drink around here.
Jamison's sharp gaze scanned the room, lingering on each of the three men in front of him: Al, a small, trembling man with fear etched into his features; Sonic, a cocky little so and so with an air of superiority; and Knuckles, the leader of the Resistance. The green hedgehog really felt like the odd one out here. "Start from the beginning," Jamison commanded, sounding a lot harsher than he meant to. "Please."
"Okay," Al took a deep shuddering breath and nodded, his gaze falling to the dusty floor as he started to recount the tale. "They first arrived posing as heroes... Our town had been under siege for a while and then suddenly, they arrived and took care of the robots easily. So, they did help us, at first."
"Helped you?" Sonic scoffed, a touch of sympathy in his voice. "Sounds more like they helped themselves, I bet."
"Right on the money," Al merely shrugged, a bitter smile playing on his lips as he massaged an arm. Jamison saw the desperation, Al looked like he wanted to spit. Instead, his voice lowered to a halting whisper as if he was afraid the walls were listening. "I... we should've seen it. They promised to improve our defenses, and they did, but they started making demands. The stuff sounded reasonable at first, you know? Gather the Wispons into a single place, so everyone knew where to muster. Needing a base of operations."
"But then..." Al paused, words catching in his throat, the terrified look in his eyes grew more intense. "They locked away our Wispons. Told us we didn't need them anymore, that they had things under control. And then came the curfews... and constant surveillance... They took over everything. They trapped us inside our own walls. Worse, when more badnicks arrived outside, they refused to fight them. No one could risk leaving."
He trailed off, his voice breaking. Knuckles nodded grimly, understanding all too well. "So, they're holding everyone hostage," he concluded.
"Exactly, do what they say or take your chances outside the walls. And they made it clear they won't kick you out through the gate."
Al's voice was barely above a whisper when he confirmed Knuckles' words. "And they've been getting more and more brutal. They beat up folks who talk back, who... resist. They've been talking about making examples out of some of us."
A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by Al's ragged breathing as he fought to keep his composure. His hands were shaking, Jamison noticed - not with fear, but with anger. It was a sight that tugged at something deep within him, brought back memories he'd rather forget. He shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of the tension building up in him, finger straying unconsciously to the M1's trigger.
Jamison's jaw clenched so hard that his fangs ground together, sending a sharp pain through his head. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, this wasn't like Tupelo and he wasn't in the military anymore. "How many casualties so far?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level and composed despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface.
"No one. Yet." The gatekeeper answered, his voice filled with apprehension. "They mostly beat you and throw you in the jail but..."
Sonic interrupted, "But they've made it clear that could change any time." His tone was somber, one Jamison recognized didn't at all match his usual flamboyant personality.
Then the coin finally dropped, something which had been tingling in the back of the green hedgehog's mind finally elbowed its way forward. The empty shops, restaurants, this tavern.
"They're hoarding food, aren't they?" he explained through gritted teeth, his voice hardening to granite with every syllable. "They won't let anyone in or out, which means no trade either. And when their food supply runs low, they'll start evicting people." It was a calculated move, gathering all the troublemakers in one place so they could be easily gotten rid of. Each word that escaped his gritted teeth was like a stone being flung into the air, building upon each other until they formed a solid wall of anger.
"Time's ticking away; let's get moving!" Knuckles' fists curled into tight balls, his eyes narrowing into intense slits of focus. "We've got a mission to accomplish."
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"Couldn't agree more," Sonic flashed a confident grin, rocking onto the balls of his feet, ready for action. "Point me in the right direction."
"The warehouse down the street. You can't miss it."
"Right." Then to Jamison's surprise, the echidna turned to him. "I know it might be a bit late for this, but we could use your help."
The green hedgehog hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the reasons to say no before shrugging. "I got nowhere else to be." He admitted, his voice tinged with resolve.
"Great." Sonic brightened. "Many hands make light work."
The pair hurried to the door, then slowed to a stop when they realized Jamison wasn't hot on their heels. "Uh, you coming?"
"In a moment, I just got another question. You can wait outside."
Shrugging, they did as he asked, chatting softly as Jamison watched them go, his mind churning with thoughts and strategies. He knew he had to join them, but there was one more thing he needed to know.
"Before engaging any further," Jamison said, his voice calm yet commanding in a way he hadn't been for some time. "I need to know if these mercenaries have harmed any women or children. Have they?"
The gatekeeper hesitated for a moment, confusion flickering across his face before his eyes went wide, shaking his head. "No, not that I know of. But it's only a matter of time before things get worse."
"I won't let that happen," Jamison stated firmly.
The closer they drew to the merc's stronghold, it was pretty clear why they couldn't have missed it. It was the only warehouse in town.
The foreboding silence upon the streets was a testament to the fear and oppression that hung like a heavy cloud over the town, devoid of the usual vibrancy that characterized a bustling community. It was as if the very essence of life had been sucked out of the air. There were no children playing or adults chatting outside, no sounds of life. It seemed almost... fragile in its silence, as if any moment something could snap it in two. Shutters banged shut when they passed by, and whispers followed them, adding an unsettling soundtrack to their journey.
Sonic quickened his pace, his eagerness to confront their adversaries palpable, while Knuckles remained ever vigilant, his instincts sensing danger lurking around every corner.
Finally, their destination loomed into view – the warehouse. Its lack of guards did not surprise Jamison; to have them these mercenaries would have to trust the very people they were abusing with their safety. No one was that stupid. Sonic and Knuckles didn't exchange any words or signals, the former climbing the wall to open a window while the latter glided through it.
It spoke well to their clear familiarity with one another. With Sparks on his shoulder again, Jamison managed to stay with them and levered his body over the window sill, without straining his shoulder.
Stacked high against the walls were crates filled with non-perishable food, water bottles, and medical supplies. The seemingly endless rows created a maze-like path that led deeper into the shelter.
In one corner however...
Well, while Jamison knew what they were at a glance, he was actually surprised to see what was inside. Sparks...well, sparked on his shoulder, a popping and snapping from rapid static electric discharges playing across the hedgehog's leather jacket. The deployment pods stood haphazardly, as if tossed into the room with all the care one would give yesterday's trash. Just as equally un
"The gatekeeper wasn't kidding," Knuckles growled, fists clenching. "They took everything." Jamison counted at least a dozen pods, all of them occupied save for the one. The blue Wisp rocked gently, and if the muffled whimpers were any indication, it wasn't doing well.
Worried Jamison hurried over to inspect them though Sparks was already off like a shot through the air. They were clearly lethargic, eyes opening slowly as dully scanning the room before focusing on Sparks, him and the others, their once vibrant glow now dimmed by the cruel captivity they endured. Jamison kneeled and felt something bump against his shoe.
He looked down intime to see a Wispon skitter away into a shadow.
"These have to be some of the Wisps who volunteered to help us fight Eggman," Knuckles's voice resonated low and tinged with simmering anger, even as he clearly forced his voice to remind quiet. "They don't deserve to be treated like this. We need to get them out."
"Agreed," Sonic replied under his breath, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by a steely resolve. "We'll set them free once we've dealt with those mercenaries."
"We end this now," Jamison ground out between clenched teeth, and Sparks chimed in agreement.
In an instant, they were off, weaving through the maze-like pathways of crates towards the heart of this operation.
There was a resounding crash, the sound of glass shattering against the cold, hard floor. The abrupt cacophony echoed through the warehouse, making the boisterous laughter right after all the easer to follow, and they cautiously but quickly followed it to its source. Though even without the noise, the smell acted as beacon.
Like elusive shadows, they slipped behind a stack of crates, their gaze transfixed on a scene unfolding in the single brightly lit area of the warehouse where a pair of skunks held court over a group of terrified villagers.
They both sat at a table laden with so much food it looked ready to break from the weight of it all. The smaller of the two, blue-gray with a ridiculous mohawk which went from forehead to tail, was lost in fits of cackling laughter, leaning so far back in his chair the front legs off the floor. "Nice one, idiot!"
The unfortunate 'idiot', a dog garbed in jesters' outfit with bell hat and all, found himself completely drenched in now wasted beer. In the back of his mind, Jamison caught the familiar tang of herbs and apples. That just made him angrier.
The bigger one, white-cream with a red nose, was practically bent double as if he'd never seen anything funnier in his life. A paw big enough to palm the jester's head hammered against the wooden table over and over as gasping wheezes escaped him. With glistening tear trails marring his fur, he managed to choke out, "Yeah...Heh. Now get...another round, 'fore we beat...sense into ya!"
It was an image of decadence, reminiscent of emperors from a bygone era. The mercenaries reveled in their power, forcing their captives to perform humiliating tasks for their amusement.
Jamison's vision blurred as a migraine began to pulse behind his eyes, fed by the anger that rose within him like a tide. He gripped his rifle tightly, trying to stay focused on the task at hand and not give in to the rage that demanded release. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if these guys were as stupid as they were juvenile.
"I'm gonna break them in half," Knuckles muttered under his breath, his fists clenched and trembling with fury.
"Easy, Knuckles," Sonic said, placing a calming hand on his friend's shoulder. His touch was gentle yet firm, offering support in the face of overwhelming frustration. "We need to get the villagers out safely first before we take these guys down."
"Right," Jamison agreed, his throat so tight he was shocked he could speak. The weight of responsibility settled heavily upon him as he surveyed the scene. "Let's not make this any worse for them than it already is. I'll take care of it."
Sonic and Knuckles stepped out from behind the crates, catching Rough and Tumble's attention. "Hey!" he called; his voice full of bravado. "I'm Sonic the hedgehog. Maybe you've heard of me? This is Knuckles the echidna, commander of the Resistance. We've got a proposal for you: surrender peacefully or face justice for your crimes."
The skunks exchanged glances, scoffing at Sonic's words. While their attention was diverted, Jamison slipped around the perimeter of the room.
With all eyes on the others, the green ram in and ill-fitting butler uniform was the first to notice him, practically leaping out his wool when the hedgehog came around the last crate nearest to the door. The guy had surprisingly good reflexes and kept the silver serving platters he was balancing in one hand from clattering to the floor.
Jamison put a finger to his lips, to keep him from making noise and then gestured to the door. The ram caught on quickly and he got the attention of the other civilians in the room, he subtly signaled them to follow behind him.
There was a collective hold of breath, a tension so thick it could be sliced with a knife. The villagers watched each other with wide, anxious eyes as they delicately moved towards the indicated direction, their bodies thrumming with terror that they might be caught before they could reach safety.
With the captives making their slow escape, Sonic and Knuckles held their positions, keeping the malicious skunks focused on them. "Who said you could come to our town," the larger one growled indignantly, rising to his full height and slapping aside a mug where it smashed to the floor. "Who said you could ruin our fun?"
"Ha! Yeah, we've heard of you hero!" the smaller one barked, sneering at Sonic as he hopped off his own chair. "But you clearly ain't heard of us. You think we're scared of you?"
"You lookin' to scrap?"
"Then get ready to crumble."
"Brace yourselves for-"
They then took a pose which clearly had been practiced in front of a mirror for maximum silliness.
"-Rough and Tumble!" they roared in unison, flexing extravagantly. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Jamison might've found it comical - these two buffoons posing as if they were protagonists in some shoddy Saturday morning cartoon.
The smaller skunk, Rough, was crouched in what he probably thought was an intimidating martial stance while his brother, Tumble, clearly was a simple as he looked, flexed his biceps. They were both still grinning even as Sonic looked ready to bust a gut laughing and Knuckles took them 100 percent seriously.
Jamison had taken up position near the door, watching on the ongoing distraction, dumbfounded. "Are you seriously saying your own names like it's some sort of fight chant?" he murmured to himself, an incredulous chuckle escaping him despite a twinge of anticipation in his gut, intermixed with the rage that still seethed beneath his skin.
The skunk duo's laughter filled the room, a grating noise that made Jamison's fur bristle. "That's us! The roughest, tough-est, meanest mercenaries around. Gonna make you wish you never set foot here!" Rough boasted.
"Oh yeah?" Sonic replied coolly, a confident grin playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."
"Boss talk," Knuckles said dismissively as he stepped forward and cracked his knuckles threateningly.
Then the last civilian was out and Jamison embraced the chill of his own mind. As he shouldered the sturdy firearm, the veteran felt every ounce of the familiar heft as he looked down the Sorand's iron sights, a simple yet effective design, which guided his aim with precision.
The rifle became an extension of his skill, a conduit for the expertise he had honed on the front lines. He used the voice he once did to be heard in the quiet of watch duty, cutting through anyone's plan to fight. "You two are under arrest for Kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, theft, and other crimes to be determined by a court. Surrender or die. This is your only warning."
The words echoed ominously throughout the warehouse, bringing with it a chill that seemed to rob the room of its heat. His ultimatum hung heavy in the silence that followed, punctuated only by the distant clink of metal and the sharp intake of breath from Rough and Tumble.
Jamison never glanced at Sonic or Knuckles, his focus remained on the skunks.
The larger skunk was the first to break the silence, his laughter booming out in a harsh, mocking sound. "Oh, is that so? You gonna arrest us?" He gestured dramatically to himself and his smaller companion. "Just you against us?"
His counterpart joined in on the laughter, slapping his tail onto the table for added effect. "Yeah, did ya hear that, Rough? We're under arrest!" He cackled louder, doubling over in mirth. "We don't answer to no one."
"Yeah, especially not to some goody-goody hedgehogs!" chimed in Tumble, waving a dismissive hand towards Jamison. "Let's get this over wit-"
As they spoke, the pair's hands drifted to the wispons on their hips and that couldn't be allowed.
Their laughter died as quickly as it came when Jamison's finger tightened on the trigger of his rifle. The resulting blasts shattered what was left of the silence in the warehouse as a pair of .30-06 bullets, smashed into the weapons.
on the skunks' hips, causing a shower of sparks and debris. The shock on their faces would have been comical in any other situation.
"Wha—!" Tumble stuttered before his eyes darted to his now useless weapon, then back up to Jamison, who stood unwavering with his rifle still trained on them.
Suddenly, their laughter seemed distant, replaced by a palpable tension that choked the air from the room. For a brief moment, things seemed to move in slow motion. The smiles on Rough and Tumble's faces had vanished, replaced by looks of bewilderment and fear. Red and yellow eyes met as they looked at each other, then down at their destroyed weapons, and back at Jamison. Their confident facade had all but crumbled.
Quick to react, Rough lifted his mitts in surrender, displaying an almost perceivable dejection. "Game over, we quit," he declared.
Beside him, Tumble was visibly taken aback by his brother's action. His gaze bounced between Jamison—who still held his rifle pointed at them—and Rough. With a resigned sigh, he mimicked his brother's raised hands gesture. "Fine. We're out," he capitulated.
"You were warned," Jamison said in a voice colder than winter's breath and he stepped forward. This was the procedure on Tupelo. One warning, no more. Give the enemy a single inch, they'd take a life.
"Woah. Hold up, Jamison," Sonic interjected. Or at least, that's what he thought the other hedgehog said.
The Rough and Tumble's eyes went wide as the green hedgehog advanced towards them, suddenly realizing the menacing intention behind his words—"Wait! You can't-"
As if on cue, Sonic and Knuckles stepped forward, their expressions grim. They moved with a synchronicity honed through countless battles and life-or-death situations. The blue speedster smoothly spun and zipped around Rough in a blur of speed, while Knuckles stood imposingly before Tumble.
Suddenly, Jamison found his crosshair aimed at two unexpected targets, the wrong people. He jerked, hastily lowering his weapon and pulling his finger away from the trigger. "What the hell are you doing, Sonic? Knuckles?" he demanded, eyes narrowing. He'd nearly shot them!
The ever-cool hedgehog and his sturdy Echidna companion stood between him and the skunk brothers.
"They surrendered." Knuckles growled, his tone brooking no argument. His fist clenched, hinting at the power of the arms behind those knuckles. "Its over."
Sonic nodded in agreement with Knuckles, although he was less confrontational. His quick eyes darted between Jamison and the skunks. "Yeah, man," he chimed in, his voice calm and steady. "We're not like them. We don't just hurt people."
The blue blur gave a look that Jamison read a thousand meanings in; a silent plea for mercy, that he wasn't on the island anymore, that these were only criminals...
He looked down at the skunks as the haze lifted. Trembling, Rough's yellow eyes darted back and forth between Sonic and Knuckles, searching for an escape that didn't exist. Tumble gulped audibly but said nothing, pinned by his stare.
A fleeting moment of silence passed before Jamison broke it with a grunt of irritation. "I don't... I'm not..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
With a huff of resignation, he finally lowered his weapon completely and tossed two sets of handcuffs at the kneeling pair. The skunks glanced at each other a final time before reluctantly fastening the cuffs around their wrists, their shoulders slumping in relief mixed with lingering fear.
Sonic and Knuckles had been silent throughout the entire exchange, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Now, Sonic stepped up beside Jamison, shooting him a sidelong glance. "Good job," he said quietly, and though there was sincerity in his words, it didn't mask the worry beneath. He knew Jamison was capable, they all did, but this... this cold ruthlessness... Sonic wasn't sure he liked it. Knuckles approached the captured skunks and examined their restraints. Once satisfied with the tightness, he motioned for them to stand, leading them away from the scene. Sonic watched the green hedgehog's eyes stay on their retreating forms and for a moment, the warehouse was quiet again.
Sonic stood beside him, really looking at the broad-shouldered hedgehog, every tense muscle filling out his leather jacket. There were words he wanted to say, questions he needed to ask, but they seemed to die in his throat.
Jamison seemed to feel his gaze, finally tearing his eyes away from the retreating skunks to regard Sonic. His own gaze was steel-cold and unreadable, reminding Sonic too much of a badnick. The green hedgehog's intense aura hadn’t diminished one bit, even with the skunks safely restrained and led away.
Sonic opened his mouth once, twice, before any sound came out. He wasn't sure how to word it.
"You didn't have to scare them like that, Jam," Sonic finally managed to say, swallowing thickly. His voice was quieter than he'd intended, masked by the ambient noise in the warehouse.
Jamison didn't reply immediately. He clicked safety back onto his rifle and slid it back onto a shoulder with a precise movement. Then he turned fully towards Sonic, his face hard. "First, it's Jamison." He corrected, his sharp teeth practically biting his words out. "We are not familiar."
Sonic recoiled, taken aback by the frosty response. It was all the sharper because it was true. They'd just met today. The guy had floored it in an RV downhill to shoot a robot in the face. The blue blur could admit he'd been operating under an assumption this whole time. That Jamison was like other hedgehogs he'd met over his very eventful life. Silver or even Shadow were very alike to him in their own ways. But the rigid lines of Jamison's form told him to reassess that assumption. There was a bristling tension in the air, a sense of Jamison being a coiled spring, a grizzly bear ready to unleash its claws at a moment's notice. Just like how he had turned his gun on Rough and Tumble.
He'd been about to execute them, put them down like animals. 'A guy way too familiar with killing.' It was enough to make him shiver.
He stared at Jamison for a moment, his heart pounding uneasily in his chest when his eyes fell onto Jamison's rifle, now slung over his shoulder. His mind raced. For all the danger they had faced, for all the fights against Robotnik and his minions, Sonic had never really thought about killing. He had his speed, Knuckles had his fists — they could incapacitate, they could disarm, but when it came to taking lives, especially when someone gave up... Sonic shook his head. That wasn't the way they did things.
What he saw in Jamison's eyes was different. There was no hesitation. 'That wasn't right,' Sonic thought, frowning at the image of Jamison's unwavering gaze as he aimed his rifle at their captives.
“Look…” Sonic started before trailing off. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.
Jamison’s head tilted slightly, acknowledging that he’d heard him without encouraging him to continue. Sonic knew that air; it was uncompromising and granite-hard, brooking no argument. His mind raced as he searched for something to say — an explanation or an apology — but found none. He was so accustomed to his friends, the ones who embraced him in celebration when all was said and done. But this...this was different.
“I just mean…” Sonic sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Never mind.”
"Fine. Then I'm going to free the wisps." Jamison rumbled, turning on a bootheel. "Oh, and second, you know full well I wasn't scaring them."
Sonic watched as Jamison strode off, his boots hitting the concrete with measured purpose. He turned back to look at where the skunk brothers were previously standing, now just a bruised and empty bit of space. Sonic sighed, feeling the tension in his body manifest as a headache. He wasn't going to be able to this go, he knew.