This was originally a part of the "Sonic Symphony" collection, but it got a little… long and diverged somewhat from the original song (which was Bon Jovi's "Nobody's Hero"), so I decided to stick it here instead.

This is set in Sonic X continuity somewhere between seasons three and four. In case you don't know, Card Passer is a general who was fired from the government at the end of the fourth season of Sonic X. But I'm trying to write him half decently here, anyway.

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews and concrit are both appreciated.

"The rule is perfect: in all matters of opinion our adversaries are insane."

-Mark Twain

It's ridiculous.

They're ridiculous. Every one of them. Their appearance, their attitudes, their blatantly inconsiderate way of dealing with the current crisis by blowing upeverything in the base... His base, damn it. Passer believes in the value of a weapon you only have to fire once as much as the next Officer but if any of those alien freaks think they're going to get away with this wanton property destruction then they have another thing coming to them. And that thing is going to be few rounds in a prison cell, be damned whose side they're supposed to be on.

'Sonic, left, to your left!'

'Wha—! Thanks Knuckles, I gotcha!'

'And they almost got you, you speed freak, watch where you're going, this isn't a playground!'

'Aw calm down, Knux, I got it covered!'

General Card Passer doesn't give a damn why they're there. All that matters is that they brought this battle to the base. The robots camecharging through the roof with a hedgehog and a fox and whatever the hell that red thing is and then they pretty much all started beating up the place. In Passer's eyes that makes Sonic and his so called friends as much to blame for the current unfolding destruction as Eggman is.

And quite bluntly he has no idea what they're up to but it's destroying his entire base and he isn't going to take it. He values discipline and order too much to let this kind of thing go unstopped. He counts about five robots, each one roughly seven metres tall and packing what seem to be missile launchers on their arms, six freaks and a twelve year old child currently—

Wait a second, what the hell is a kid doing out there?

'Chris!'

'Chris, watch out!'

'Uah! N-no problem, I got it!'

'Man, buddy, what is it about us having to save your butt all the time?'

'Oh, come on I'm not that bad!'

'Ah, you kinda are, Chris… oh, damn it, where'd my hammer go? I'm not finished with that robot yet!'

Fools, the lot of them.

That said, they'd probably make soldiers if they were just a bit (or a lot) more organized and weren't just beating randomly at everything in sight. They don't know what they're doing. Every time one of them hits the floor someone else immediately rushes to help them up. Then they end up on the floor again, rinse, repeat… They're gaining nothing but blood and bruises and a goddamn repair bill the length of his arm if he has anything to do with it. Not to mention a Child-Protection racket for bringing a twelve year old into all of this.

Speaking of which, the boy in question has just scrambled behind his temporary bunker (which only ten minutes ago had been his solid oak official government owned desk. Passer's going to find some way to make them pay for that, too) and noticed Passer's presence for the first time.

'Oh um... hi there, sir. Sorry about the base, we didn't mean for the fight to come this far, I swear we were trying to get them into the field next door!'

'Chris! Who're you talking to back there?'

'Its Mister Passer, I think he wants to help!'

'Great, great! Does he have any explosives on him?'

'Um… Sorry Knuckles, I don't think so!'

'Then he's no damn help at all, is he?'

Passer tries not to let the feelings of anger and revolution in his gut bubble up to show on his face too much. How dare they? With what they're doing to his base, how dare they question his competence in his own field? The talking rats don't even know what they're doing. How the hell that blue rogue became the hero of this entire city is beyond Passer.

'Incoming!'

'Yah! Hey, what the— Rouge?!'

'Hey there. What's up, Knuckie, not happy to see me?'

'Damn right I'm not, that was my robot!'

'Oh really? I guess that it was so fond of you that it decided to give you a hug, huh?'

'I was… handling it!'

'Sure you were. And Topaz can go twenty-four hours without a coffee, miracles happen all the time! So do you guys need my help or what?

'No we don't! We're handling all this just fi—'

'Oh, hello there, Miss Rouge! It's good to see you; we could use your help!'

'Heeey, Cream, now you watch out for that missile launcher there. You were saying Knuckles?'

'…Mrfle…We could… use your help.'

'Thought you'd never ask.'

Great. Now the damned Bat is here. That means that Topaz is probably somewhere in the vicinity and he really has no idea whether that counts as a good thing or a bad one. Most likely bad.

He ducks away from another shower of stone and rock as a robot crashes through the roof nearby, Sonic going after it in a blur of blue light, accompanied by a not-so-blurred shape of flying orange. The robot staggers and falls, destroying yet another huge segment of government property. They are definitely going to have to up public taxes to fix this.

And where's that damned back up he called for twenty minutes ago?

And what exactly is he supposed to do? The weapons stock area has already been blown to the ground, it's a Public holiday so most of his officers aren't even available and it's not like he can take on these monstrosities with a single pistol and no bullets? (Not that he wouldn't try it, if he thought he had a prayer).

And then the boy is scrambling around in the rubble besides him, grabbing the largest rock he can find and throwing it right into the face of passing robot.

Well. There are rocks, Passer supposes. Fight on to the bloody end with whatever is to hand: that's him. It's what his senior officers always said about him back in training, wasn't it?

'Whoa! Hey, nice shot, Chris!'

'Thanks! Hey, Cream, watch out there!'

'Eeep!'

'Cream! Aw, man, hold on I'm coming!'

'No, its okay, I've got her Chris!'

'Sure you do, Tails, but who's got you?!'

'I've got him, get back behind that table already!'

The boy is gone again before Passer has a chance to stop him. He opens his mouth to say something – he doesn't quite know what yet but it'll probably be something about parental consent and juvenile delinquency but the kid is already gone. Wonderful.

Passer starts throwing rocks.

The incredible thing, of course, is that the robots actually seem to be slowing down. They're not making any less mess than they were before, of course, but there's definitely fewer of them standing than there were a few minutes ago. Passer's fingers itch for a trigger or the hook of a grenade, but he knows he has nothing worth throwing but for stones and plaster.

Another wall blows up. A blue blur is snatched from the air and dragged to safety by a pink one. A rabbit (or whatever she is) is tripping over the rubble and falling right in the path of another mechanical monster, and then the boy is in front of her in defence, arms outstretched, teeth grit and the kind of look on his face that Passer sees all the time in the faces of newly graduated grunts in their first real life battle scenario.

God, what does he think he's doing? That robot will make mincemeat out of him. And then, just when Passer thinks he's going to have to start throwing himself into the firing line, the hedgehog gets there first. The crushing arm heading in the boy and rabbit's direction is brought to an abrupt, blue halt. The robot crumbles to pieces soon after.

'Oh-kaaaay buddy, totally meaning it about you getting out of here now, take Cream and go!'

'But Sonic—'

'Chris, I'm proud of ya and all but damn it, do anything like that again and I'm locking ya in your room next time Eggman brings out the big guns, now go on!'

'…Okay. Come on, Cream.'

'C-coming!'

…Frankly he just doesn't get it. There are people risking their lives for each other left, right and centre, here and none of them have any idea of the very concept of organization as a strategy to a successful battle.

Card Passer is not a patient man. He doesn't take kindly to freaks and mutants bringing their extra terrestrial wars to his base (or his planet for that matter). He doesn't take kindly to freaks and mutants in general, or to evil geniuses trying to place their stamp upon a world they have no claim to. He doesn't take kindly to automatons beyond anything humans have ever created before taking huge chunks out of his territory.

'Okay, Knuckles, on three!'

'Five.'

'Three.'

'Five, I'm not supersonic, damn it, I can't get a decent run up out of three!'

'Okay, okay, five then! We only get one shot at this!'

'Right!'

'Go for it, guys!'

'Kick their butts!'

'Five…'

'Four…'

'Three!'

'Two—!'

…But more than anything else, he has discovered that he hates being out staged on his own turf by flying rodents, blue hedgehogs and prepubescent brats.

'ONE!'

Passer really has no idea what the public sees in them. No idea whatsoever…