Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Sega owns everything...

Chapter 1

The Trouble Begins

Early morning sunlight leaked in through the cracks in a set of old blinds and cast strange patterns on the dull white walls of a small apartment room. The room was almost bare; the only furniture was a bed and a side table. The table was of normal variety. It was made of wood and had been painted a dark green; but age was beginning to talk it's toll and the paint was chipping. On top of the table sat a clock. The numerals 6:59 were stamped across it's blank face in vibrant red lights. The clock flashed 7:00, and a loud, monotonous beeping echoed around the small room.

Ugh, I hate Mondays. Bark the polar bear groaned to himself as awoke to the persistent beeping. He yawned loudly and considered smacking the snooze button. After several moments of debating, he decided against it and sat up in his messy, unmade bed. Giving the alarm clock one last hate filled look, Bark flicked off the switch and the beeping ceased.

He grabbed his shoes from his bedside and slipped them on. Bark raised his hands above his head and stretched out his arms. Thus Bark began his usual monotonous morning routine. The polar bear got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, threw open the cabinet, and grabbed his toothbrush. He slopped some sea green toothpaste on the head and scrubbed at his teeth. As he spat out the foul tasting mess, Bark glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He still looked the same as he had many, many years ago when he was still in contact with Bean.

Bark grabbed a moist towel and buried his face in it. Sometimes he really missed that goon. Sure he could get annoying, but they had been friends. After a while they had lost contact and drifted apart. Now Bark lived his own boring, solitary life in a tiny apartment in Station Square. But, hey, everything has to change. Bark rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tossed the towel half heartedly into the sink.

Following his daily schedule, Bark walked out of the bathroom and into the small living room. It looked almost exactly the same as the bedroom: boring white walls and few peices of furniture. The polar grabbed the remote off the wooden, water-stained coffee table. He flopped down on the couch and clicked on the TV. Bark wasn't poor or anything, but his money was limited, therefore he only had one channel on the TV: the news.

After a brief moment of static, the screen cleared to reveal a lady holding a microphone. She was one of those ladies who was obviously aging, yet still in denial. In the background, some sort of lab was displayed. It was quite obvious that someone had broken into it; windows were shattered and the door had been kicked in. "This Brenda White, reporting to you live from Station Square's most advanced lab where it appears that one of the world's leading scientists, Miles Prower, has been kidnapped."

"Details are sketchy at this hour, but we do have an eyewitness who claims that a mysterious figure clad in all black broke through the window and held three scientists at gunpoint. Sadly one was shot and killed, and the other, our eyewitness, was wounded. The mysterious figure shot Miles Prower with what our witness claims was a sedative. The figure then kicked down the door and vanished."

"Yeah right," Bark said as he turned off the TV. He sighed and glanced over at the clock. It was only 6:20. The polar bear sat up and made his way over to the kitchen counter. He grabbed a set of keys, his scarf, and his hat and walked out the door. The neighborhood that he was living in was a little sketchy, so Bark double checked to make sure he had locked the door. Satisfied, he put on the hat and wrapped the scarf around his neck.

From the window of the apartment next door, a young purple hedgehog waved at him. Bark had met him a couple months ago when he first moved in. He wasn't a bad kid. Kind of on the shrimpy side, but he had a good heart. The polar bear waved back and headed down the stairs. A blast of cold air hit him with what felt like the force of a tornado. Bark was instantly glad for his thick fur that adapted him to this freezing cold climate.

But still, he shivered slightly and wrapped his scarf tighter. The weather's kind of glum... Bark observed as he walked down the foggy streets. Droplets of fog clung to his fur, causing small rivulets to run down the side of his face. He shook them off, scattering drops all over the damp sidewalk. Catching sight of a strange figure in the fog, Bark slowed his footsteps to a halt. Every hair on his body stood on edge as the figure revealed itself. It was a GUN robot. The machine seemed to be looking for someone or something. Well, whatever it was doing here, Bark didn't want anything to do with it.

Mumbling to himself about the government, he quickly turned down a cobblestone path and walked up to the nearest building: a small, cozy looking cottage. The scent of coffee and cream wafted through the cracked windows creating an alluring scent that any creature with an ounce of common sense would follow. Since Bark was no exception, he gladly walked up the path. He took one last look over his shoulder. The robot was still out there, it's mechanical eyes scanning every inch of the street.

Bark opened up the door, the squeak of it causing the robot to swivel it's metal head, and stepped inside. He found himself standing in the doorway of a small coffee shop, just as the scent had implied. The owner, a scruffy looking dog gave him a quick wave. "Good mornin'. I don't usually see your types in here."

Bark grunted in reply and flopped down on a large over stuffed armchair. He lifted up the blinds of the window behind him and peeked out. The robot was still there. Bark might as well stay. The quiet was reassuring and calming to him. He had a feeling that normally this coffee shop was bustling with costumers, but at 6:45 in the morning, it was peaceful and quiet, just the way he liked it. "So what brings you in here, big guy?" The dog asked.

Bark hitched his thumb back in the direction of the street. "Staying out of that robot's way."

The dog nodded in approval, "Smart idea. I've seen what them robots can do. It ain't that pretty. By the way, my name's Benny."

"I'm Bark." The polar bear muttered as he kicked his feet up onto the armchair's ottoman.

The dog known as Benny leaned against the counter, "You see the news this mornin'?" He asked, attempting to make small talk with the surly polar bear.

"Yeah, I saw it." Bark answered, wanting the conversation to end.

"That's probably why that robot's out there. So, whadda ya think?" Benny asked. Bark shrugged. Benny continued talking, "I think it's a bunch of baloney. This person kidnaps the best scientist in the world and just vanishes? Please..."

Bark shrugged again, "There was a hedgehog who appeared about ten years ago who could do something called 'Chaos Control'. Maybe this figure can do it too."

"I doubt it..." Benny muttered as he wiped down the counters with an old wet rag. "I think it's a conspiracy... The government's up to somethin'..."

Bark raised an eyebrow. A conspiracy theory? The coffee fumes must be getting to this dog's head. Suddenly, the bells on the door jingled madly as the door was thrown open. Two men wearing black suits, shiny black shoes, shades, and some kind of earpiece stepped into the door. They flashed their badges at Benny, "We're looking for Bark the polar bear." One agent said.

The second agent held up a picture of Bark, "Have you seen him?" He asked. Benny pointed to the corner. The agents turned around to see Bark sitting in the arm chair. "Are you Bark the polar bear?" Agent Two asked.

"Yes..."

Agent One straightened his tie. "Bark, the government needs your help."