"Shadow Android number 301?"
"Present."
"Shadow Android number 266?"
"Yeah I'm here."
"Good," one of Eggman's lesser-known robots chirped, checking off two boxes on the attendance sheet that was attached to his clipboard.
"I still don't see why you make us do that before every training session. You can already see that we're here…" 301 rolled his teal eyes in the exact same manner as the real Shadow, folding his arms while he did so.
"I'm just doing what I'm programmed to do, the same as you or anyone else," the machine waved off 301's attitude as if it were nothing. A less-than-enthusiastic Shadow Android wasn't exactly news to him. Instead his attention was focused on the clipboard he held in the clamp that seemed to replace a left hand. His single lens scanned over it for a moment before he blurted out, "Oh here it is! For today's training session, you two will get to be the teachers!"
"Class dismissed," 266 grinned and turned to leave, only to be verbally halted.
"Sorry 266 but that's still my call, not yours."
"Crap." The sky-blue mecha's grin disappeared as quickly as it had formed.
"What I mean is that you two will serve as sparring partners for someone else who is being taught to take on two enemies at once."
"I thought you said we'd be teaching?" 266 folded his arms.
"What better way to learn than by experience? You are going against one of the finest fighters in the entire base, as well as the fastest learner I've seen yet. All you should have to do is cooperate to beat him; he'll find a way to counter. At the same time, I hope you learn a little something about tag-team combat, 301," the trainerbot stressed 301's name to emphasize his inability to work well with others. "Remember, there's power in numbers. Loyalty to your fellow comrade is as great a strength as any." By now, 301 knew better than to back sass anyone who held authority over him, so he didn't respond out loud.
"Who are we working with anyway?" 266 raised an eyebrow. "If what you say is true, he must be pretty tough."
"Trust me, he is. However, his fighting style is similar to yours, as are his strengths and weaknesses. His name is Metal Sonic."
As if on cue, the weight detection-activated door to the hallway that led into the room slid apart to reveal a shiny, freshly-polished Metal Sonic. Sonic robot stepped forward with undeterred confidence, gaze unwavering as the doors rejoined behind him.
"Sorry if I'm a bit late," he waved a hand. "It took a bit longer to repaint me than I thought it would. Next time I'll have to be more careful not to swap paint in combat huh?" he attempted to explain his late arrival informally.
"I know what you mean," 266 complied. "Besides, it's a lot more fun to swap paint outside of combat," he smirked devilishly at the dirty joke he'd made. After a drawn-out, awkward moment with a painful lack of laughter, his smirk faded away along with any eye contact he'd been making.
"If that's all," the teacher cautiously changed the subject, "why don't we get on with the instructions?" His trio of pupils nodded in unison. "Metal, you will have a total of 30 minutes to fight 301 and 266 in 3 round. Each round will last 10 minutes. If a fight should end in a draw, I will judge the winner based on performance. Best 2 out of 3 wins. Winner-or winners-get to take the rest of the day off with one friend each, even leaving the base until midnight if they so choose. Understood?"
Again, they nodded.
Satisfied, their trainer made a near-perfect 180-degree turn and typed a code in to the wall-bound access panel with the numbers1-9 on its buttons. Upon this, doors identical to the one Metal had come through, but on the opposite side of the room, parted and gave way to what was known to those in the base as a basic training area.
It was a big, enclosed space—over a square mile to be more specific. It had been made to emulate the outdoors as much as possible with real grass, soil, rocks and trees. It even had controllable heat lamps, fans and sprinklers here and there for training robots how to cope with heat, wind and rain in a fight, even if it was artificial. Far above, on one of the room's four walls, was a safe viewing point for the trainers, protected by 5-inch-thick bulletproof glass. This way, the every punch, kick, and all else could be safely recorded, replayed, slowed down, and assessed by any trainerbot.
"You know the drill by now," the experienced teacher shrugged, his single tire rolling in reverse as the rest of his body rotated around until he was moving forward. He promptly exited the large room, leaving the three younger robots to take on another awkward silence. 266 was the first to speak up.
"We'll take the other side, Metal," he offered without considering what 301 might want to do. "You just stay put and don't worry your pretty little head," he teased, poking the side of Metal's head once for each of the last three words in a comical manner. "We'll make it quick and painless." There was that smirk again. Metal really didn't mind the teasing, but what did bother him a little was how unorthodox this Shadow Android was. He'd just smiled and joked twice within a matter of minutes. In the case of almost any other Shadow Android, you'd be lucky to see them stop scowling even once before their 10-year warranty expired.
266's jet skates powered up and he was gone before Metal could even finish processing the thought. 301 wordlessly followed suit. The color-coded robos took position on the opposite end of the area from their sparring partner, and intently watched the viewing point, waiting for any sign of their teacher.
Metal did the same on his end, abandoning his train of thought and leaving it to run over a metaphorical cliff into a nonexistent ocean. He had more important things to think about than a possibly dysfunctional Shadow Android.
No matter how fun he might be at parties.
Hardly a moment passed before their superior appeared behind the glass and nodded, signaling them to start fighting. In an instant the fierce brawl broke out. 301 flew fist-first into Metal at speeds that could rival a formula 1 racecar. His victim countered immediately after the impact by roughly grabbing his black-and-teal quills and yanking him off to the side. Just after that, 266 tackled Metal from behind, knocking him down into the dirt, raising a fist.
Before he could effectively use the fist in a punch, his target jetted off, leaving the fist to hit dirt instead. Dumbfounded, its owner's gaze shot up when 301 passed him. He gave chase to Metal intent on ramming him from behind to knock him off course and hopefully into a tree or a rock. The latter robot barely dodged in time to avoid this let his speed drop enough to let 301 pass him. 301 looked back just in time to receive a foot to the face and was sent crashing to the ground.
The fights went on like this for quite a while. 266 and 301 won the first round, but Metal made his big comeback in the next two. In the very end of the third bout, he had 266 pinned to the ground by the shoulders while 301's artificial claws were firmly planted in the trunk of a large oak tree as the results of a failed attempt to slash a few visible claw marks into Metal's brand-new coat of cobalt blue paint. After all, battle scars are something to be proud of, right?
While 301 aimlessly cursed and struggled to free his ungloved hand, Metal lingered over 266, glaring into his eyes, making sure he knew to stay put. Apparently he did, despite glaring back. Metal also couldn't help but notice he was panting heavily. 'Just goes to show you how far technology's come,' he figured, 'And how realistic a robot can be…' At this, he realized 266's faux fur was dark and damp, presumably with fake sweat. On top of that, his face and body were only inches away. All these things combined made Metal glad he was less realistic. He was sure that his muzzle would be bright red otherwise.
It was then that the trainerbot burst in through the sliding doors, unwittingly ending the somewhat tense moment. "Well done, you three!" he beamed, quickly finishing up the notes he'd been scribbling on his report form. Metal instantly scrambled to his feet, well away from 266, suddenly aware of the position they'd been in and how it must've looked. He stifled a shudder while an injured 266 pulled himself up to a stand, slightly intrigued by the unexpected action.
"All three of you fought very well," their instructor went on. "You're becoming quite formidable opponents." Amidst his praise, 301 finally managed to yank his hand free, sending stray bits of tree bark scattering to the ground nearby. He examined his claws, flexing and bending his fingers as if to see if they still worked while he was being commended along with his "classmates."
"I'm truly impressed. Metal, you've earned your prize. You get the rest of the day off with one friend."
"Thanks, Teach," Metal expressed his unfocused gratitude.
"Have fun," the robot receiving the halfhearted thanks waved goodbye as he rolled out of the room with ease, no doubt off to oversee other practice rounds between fighting robots, furthering their experience and honing their skills.
301 abruptly and silently left the room, pulling his glove back on, while Metal tried to figure out whom to spend the rest of the day with. He had about 9 hours left 'til midnight, and tens of thousands of robots to choose from, if not more. 266 saw that he seemed a bit troubled and spoke up.
"If you need someone to split the prize with, I wouldn't mind getting' outta here for a while," he offered, giving his comrade a look that almost said "please."
If Metal had a mouth, he would've smiled.
"I don't see why not."
