"What on Mobius... am I... on a spaceship?!"

At that moment, the room's lights decided to snap on, overloading Miles' natural night vision. He winced at the discomfort, but his eyes quickly re-adjusted. The room was extremely minimalistic, consisting only of bunk beds and various footlockers. Miles also saw just how naked he was. Mobian society regarded one's hands and feet to be the most sensitive and private regions of the body — which was why nearly every sapient Mobian wore shoes and gloves — while covering one's legs and torso were generally optional and left to the discretion of the individual. Miles was totally bare. Another heave of the floor brought his mind back to more important matters, and this time the boy kept his balance, lashing his tails as counterweights.

With a sudden click and mechanical whooshing noise, a large portion of the wall opened up, much to Miles' shock. He silently cursed himself for not realizing that was a bulkhead door. A tall man in bright orange uniform came running toward the fox, and Miles bristled at just what this tall man was.

'He's a Human!'

Not knowing whether this man intended to help him or kill him, Miles immediately scrunched into a defensive posture, brandishing his twin tails like scorpion stingers. The man was brandishing some sort of firearm, after all.

"Easy, lad; I'm on your side! We've just been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up, we don't have much time!"

 
Miles' brain short-circuited. This armed and uniformed man wasn't speaking any Earth-Human language the boy was familiar with, and he certainly wasn't speaking any kind of Mobian dialect, and yet, the could understand him clearly. After working his own jaws a bit, the boy tried speaking back.

"Wha-what? Endar Spire? Who are you!?" the teenage fox asked the Human. His own voice sounded completely alien to him.

"I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the Republic Fleet! I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you've never seen me before," the tall man responded. The floor jostled harshly. "Now, hurry up; we've got to find Bastila! We must ensure she gets off the ship alive!" Trask certainly looked serious.

"Bastila? Just who is Bastila, and why is she so important?" Miles was annoyed and confused, but genuinely concerned for this female's safety.

"Did you just hit your head, boy? Bastila is the commanding officer on the Endar Spire! Well, not an officer, really. But she's the one in charge of this mission! One of our primary duties is to guarantee her survival in the event of an enemy attack. You swore an oath just like everyone else on this mission! Now it's time to make good on that oath!"

'I did? When?! What's "the Republic"? Who are "the Sith"? Why am I on a spaceship?! Just yesterday I was back on Mobius! ...Wasn't I?'

"I've heard what everyone's been saying about you," the tall man Trask continued. "You've traveled the farthest reaches of the galaxy; you've visited planets I've never even heard of! People with your skills and abilities are hard to find; it's no wonder the Republic recruited you for this mission! But now, it's time you to prove yourself, boy!"

Miles didn't know how to respond to all that. He did hit his head on his first fall to the floor, but he somehow doubted that explained his current cluelessness!

"Look, I know you're a scout and not a soldier," Trask went on, "but Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack! So hurry up and get your gear! MOVE!"

"A-all right, let's go find Bastila!" Miles didn't know whether he could really trust this Human or not, but he sensed no deception from him, so he decided to comply. The floor bucked again, and he stumbled back to his bunk and what he presumed was his footlocker.

Graciously, it was unlocked. Fumbling with an alien locking mechanism when he was supposed to know what he was doing would have been unbearably awkward. Its contents were packed by what had to be a neat-freak, presumably himself. He found white pairs of combat boots and work gloves, some blue denim-like cargo pants with a tail-hole, a white short-sleeved shirt, a SAPI-style plated tactical vest, a small electronic headset with a semi-transparent eyepiece (which was conveniently constructed to fit his skull), and what had to be and energy pistol.


'Since when do I wear clothes  and armor!?' Miles thought, hastily donning everything. Surprisingly it all fit him, if a bit loosely. More than fully clothed by his own Mobian standards, Miles turned to face Trask.

"You ready?" Trask asked.

"OK, let's move out!" said Trask. "We should stick together; we'll have more success as a team than on our own!"

"Agreed," the fox answered. Actually, he wasn't too sure about that.


On Earth, the Humans proved to be ineffective fighters, especially during the Black Arms invasion. Miles didn't care for handguns, but he gripped his pistol anyway. He had learned that he had to be more flexible in his combat styles in order to keep up with Sonic and Knuckles, and especially Shadow. Miles shuddered. The raw power of that black hedgehog terrified the adolescent fox. Shadow's natural Chaos affinity was unmatched. Miles "Tails" Prower doubted he could last three minutes against him, if the two became enemies.

The room shook violently, and three light fixtures exploded in a spray of sparks. Suddenly, the bulkhead door slammed shut.

"This bulkhead's in lockdown! But don't worry, I've got the override codes to re-open it!"

Miles figured he could slice the door open himself with a pair of Chaos-imbued tails, but he let the Human handle it his way. With a few button pushes, the bulkhead whizzed open again.

"Let's go!"