To Make an Omelet Chapter 1 Draft Revision 7

Omletta often pondered what a good daughter was supposed to be like. She certainly resembled a good daughter in appearance. Spiky, fiery hair groomed to perfection. The cute golden tiara with the red jewel in the center. Her pince-nez glasses that hid her eyes. Her lavish dress and perfectly shined shoes. Yet, no matter how well she dressed and groomed herself, there was more to it than mere appearances. She knew this, and despite all of her efforts, she always came up short. She always failed.

For a few years, Omletta engaged in a war waged by her father, Dr. Ivo Robotnik, who took her on as his Chief Robotics Engineer. The mere concept of the war was simple; The Land of the Sky is the enemy, and so are its arrogant people. Their floating islands and continents blocked out the sun, and they refused to help those who suffered beneath them in The Land of Darkness, which its denizens nicknamed ‘The Darklands’.

As Chief Robotics Engineer, Omletta was tasked with designing and producing the majority of troops used to wage this war. She modeled most of them from animals, insects, and simple shapes; the moto-bug being one of Omletta’s favorites. It resembled a ladybug in appearance and used a single wheel on its underside for locomotion. She kept a small plastic figurine of it on her desk, and took it with her wherever she was stationed.

As much as she loved it, the moto-bug was practically useless in combat and only served any real purpose in transporting goods and piloting vehicles. She found comfort in knowing it still had uses in logistics, even if it was pointless to use in a fight. She had plenty of other ideas for new war machines anyway.

Omletta sat alone in a stuffy control room on the Death Egg, a spherical space station in orbit around the planet; full of flashing buttons and lights, glowing holographic keyboards, computer monitors, and the odd toy or drawing scattered about. In her time on the Death Egg, Omletta covered the lifeless gray walls with drawings, motivational posters, and vandalized photographs of high profile targets. Omletta’s vandalizations took the form of gaps in their teeth and devilish horns affixed to their heads.

The room smelled of flowers and lavender due to Omletta placing multiple air fresheners around the room, though the subtle stink of sterilizing chemicals still snuck through no matter how hard she tried to mask it.

At her desk, she watched one particular screen displaying the point of view of her greatest invention yet. She modeled it after her father’s arch nemesis. Blue paint. Sharp blades and spikes on the head that resembled hedgehog quills. Hydraulics and hidden wheels installed in the legs for rapid ground movement. A built in jetpack for aerial locomotion. An eye that allowed the robot to see and provide a video feed. Its best feature was its Chaos-powered battery, capable of siphoning energy directly from a Chaos Emerald to greatly increase its lethality.

The arch nemesis in question, a smirking hedgehog wearing bright red shoes and immaculate white gloves, proved to be the biggest thorn in Omletta’s side. Behind him nearly at all times, an intelligent two-tailed mutant; a cute and fuzzy fox, but a mutant nonetheless. Their names were Sonic and Tails respectively, although Omletta doubted if “Tails” was truly his name.

Sonic and Tails battled the former’s copycat in the Sky Sanctuary, a Skybound temple located near Angel Island, which itself used to house the Master Emerald before Robotnik procured it. A curious place, Omletta often thought. It had no need for any land bridges or other ways of keeping it in the air; the energy emanating from the Master Emerald was more than enough. In the background, Angel Island descended due to the absence of the required Chaos Energy.

In the ensuing battle, the blue rodent and his cohort easily dodged past his copycat’s attacks, jumping over it when it dashed backwards and sidestepping its razor-sharp spindashes. As it staggered and reoriented itself, the blue rodent used his quilled body to smash into it. Omletta slammed her fists on her desk, shouting angrily at the screen every time it fell victim to counterattacks. Her latest, greatest creation couldn’t hit its targets even once, and it lacked the opportunity to utilize its Chaos siphoning abilities because the Master Emerald was already gone.

Sonic landed a final concussive blow to its head, knocking it down and rendering it inoperable. The video feed turned to static, but audio still came through. From the sound of it, the battleground beneath them crumbled and sent her creation and debris hurtling into the Land of Darkness below.

Omletta pressed a button next to a microphone. In a panic, she called out to her father. Dr. Robotnik picked up a moment later. “Is Sonic dead yet, my dearest?” He asked. She looked at a motion tracker nearby, indicating two interlopers had broken into the Death Egg, a spherical space station where Omletta did most of her work. She disappointed her by letting him know that Sonic was here, and meant business.

“Why must you be so useless!?” He snarled. Omletta flinched at his words, even if she expected such a hostile reaction. She felt her eyes grow warm and tingly. “I am initiating plan A-2.” Robotnik continued. “Get into an escape pod and go home! We’re going to have to initiate Plan B immediately, so don’t think your work is done just yet!”

The little scientist did as instructed. Grabbing what she could, including her moto-bug figurine, she fled towards the escape pods located in a far off hallway in the bowels of the base. As she ran, she took one last look at the colorless and utilitarian aesthetics of the place, noting the fact she wouldn’t miss it.

“It’s a good thing it’s just daddy and I here.” She remarked to herself as she approached the pods. She chose one at random; a simple square hatch with smoothed corners and red paint around the outline. She pulled in a handle and twisted it, and the pod opened. She tossed in her personal effects, then jumped in with little regard for her immediate comfort.

Omletta closed the door with the press of a button, which let out a hiss as the airlock reengaged. She buckled up, moved some of her things out of the way, and grabbed into the safety handles. Out the window, she gazed upon Planet Freedom below. It looked so pretty from here, she thought. The ever shifting clouds and the majesty of the Land of the Sky were a sight to behold. Too bad that’s where all her enemies lived. Omletta pressed another button with her foot, activating the launch sequence. The console in front of her lit up.

A prompt came up on the screen, asking her to pick a destination. Omletta took a deep breath and ventured one of her hands away from the safety handles and towards the controls. She picked Robotropolis, her home. Once she finalized the destination and pressed “yes” when asked if she was sure, the console displayed a countdown from ten.

The anticipation is always the worst part, she thought. She reached back up with her free hand and gripped the safety handle. The countdown finished. The console displayed a sprite of an egg-shaped robot waving, and a message thanking her for visiting the Death Egg. With a jolt, the space station shot her pod planetwards. For a few brief moments, there was silence.

Once she reached the planet’s atmosphere, things got much harder to see. The increasingly loud fire created from the immense air resistance blocked most of the view and rattled the vessel. She didn’t need to see very well to know when she passed through a gap between the Skybound continents as the light from the window became dark.

Omletta reached down again and deployed the escape pod’s parachutes. The sudden change in speed yanked her down, almost causing her to hit her head on the console. She breathed a sigh of relief at avoiding a concussion, then waited until she made contact with the surface. The safety handles proved to be an example of good foresight.

With a thud, the pod made contact with the ground. Omletta unbuckled herself and took a look out the window. To her chagrin, a downpour of rain descended from the heavens. Acid rain too, as evidenced by the thick smog surrounding the area. Omletta sighed and took out the escape pod’s emergency filtration mask from its storage. She secured it over her face, unlocked the door, grabbed her things, and climbed out.

Empty streets only filled with the occasional passing car greeted her. Upon looking around, Omletta saw that she conveniently landed on a sidewalk next to an apartment complex. She felt the rain pelting her and soaking into her hair and clothes.

An enormous light fixture arranged in her father’s image cut through the smog, guiding her on where to go. It shined more vividly than all the other lights of her city, an eyesore to be sure, but one with purpose. She ran through the empty streets of the metropolis, passing by the occasional humanoid robot putting “sleeping” people who got caught out in the rain, human and animal folk alike, onto gurneys. She hoped they’d be okay.

One of the robots spotted her and waved her down. As Omletta approached, it informed her that it called for transport and that she should remain stationary. She nodded, and waited as she got progressively more soaked in toxic water.

Omletta peered up at the roof of the rocky, cave-like roof Robotropolis resided under, then at a nearby car wreck caused by a fallen stalactite. She shivered at the thought of one falling and squishing her, or destroying her home.

After a few minutes of waiting around, an egg-shaped aircraft landed nearby. The reliable Egg-mobile. Modular, efficient, and recognizably rotund. Its door opened, and a moto-bug wheeled out.

Omletta climbed in and turned on the windshield wipers, thanking the two robots before taking off. She piloted the vehicle towards her home; her true home, not some depressing workstation in space. She passed by skyscrapers, search lights, and other aerial passengers moving towards their own destinations.

She pulled up out of the smog, now able to fully take in Robotropolis’ glory. The neon city always reminded Omletta of old science fiction cartoons her father showed her once upon a time; a time before the current conflict. Futuristic, sleek, and glowing with electricity. The center of the city sat on a large hollowed-out mountain filled with sublevels and stations of varying purpose.

Omletta approached zeroed in on a runway located just behind the lights assembled in Robotnik’s likeness. Robotic marshals holding glowing batons greeted her with signals and gestures telling her where to go. With their guidance, she safely flew into the Eggmobile hangar and parked it.

She turned it off and stepped out. The hangar itself buzzed with artificial life; moto-bugs transported fuel and other resources, and guardbots guarded the exits and entryways. The smell of gasoline and chemicals assaulted her nostrils, causing her to sneeze. She’d get used to the aroma of progress eventually, she thought. The bright lights on the ceiling cast a harsh reflection on the perfectly shined floors, stinging the young inventor’s eyes.

The guardbots securing the area themselves saw through blood-red visors on their blank faces, with spiked balls for hands, spikes coming from their shoulder plates, and three metallic horns protruding from their heads. Their bodies were spherical and bulky, designed for brute force and defense. Despite their aggressive design, their spiked limbs came outfitted with utilities and tools in case of special circumstances outside of combat.

One thing occupied Omletta’s mind. Hygiene. Acidic, toxic water soaked her clothes and hair, rendering her a sopping wet biohazard. She approached the nearest guardbot and requested that it scan her for radiation. The robot produced a geiger counter and waved the contraption around her body. The radiation readings thankfully came up negative. Close call, she thought.

She commanded the guardbot to lead her to her quarters, to which it obliged with a salute. They entered a small door on the farthest wall, which bypassed the terminal lower ranking individuals usually filtered into. The door led into a narrow hallway, which spilled out into another via a reinforced metal door. The smell of gasoline was absent here, but the stench of chemicals remained. More polished floors, fluorescent lights above, and white walls lined with panels. Omletta squinted to shield her eyes from the brightness of it all. Tasteless and dull, she thought.

On her way to her quarters, she passed by a familiar face in the hall. An elderly half-animal folk scientist with a sickly green tint to his reptilian skin - and slick, greasy hair styled in arches that resembled a spider's legs. He wore a lab coat and carried a heavy metal backpack that connected to his body via tubes, providing mobile life support and storage for tools. His nametag read “Dr. Grimer” with the title “Robotics Engineering Officer” underneath. She noticed him wearing a cast on his left arm and stopped to question him as to what happened.

“The damned guard rail broke!” Grimer complained. He recounted how he had leaned up against it in the middle of work, and it gave out beneath him. He fell several feet and landed on his arm, which now had several fractures. “I’m not getting any younger! Tell your father I at least need a break so I may recover from this!”

“I’ll see what I can do... D-Daddy’s a-”

“A very busy man, yes. You’ve said that many times, little heir. Are you going to get him to actually do something about these work conditions for once? Or, are you going to keep-”

“Watch your mouth!” Omletta spat back. “If daddy finds out you’re talking that way to me, he’ll make sure both your arms are broken!” Grimer backed off, grumbling something under his breath as he made his way towards his own destination. Omletta let out a sorrowful sigh once the scientist was out of earshot. She shouldn’t have said something so mean, she thought.

Omletta entered her living quarters located near the Robot Generator that produced most of her father’s military. She dismissed the guardbot and thanked it. It saluted her one last time and went back to the hangar, leaving the young inventor to her devices.

In stark contrast to the blinding and obsessively clean appearance of the hallways and hangar, her room was much more relaxed and darker in coloration. She chose a dark purple for the paint on her walls and a lighter shade for her bedsheets. Omletta couldn’t wait to finally take her shoes off and feel the soft fuzz of her carpet between her toes. She looked at her wall and smiled at more vandalized photos she kept on the wall near her command console’s screen.

Omletta undressed, sent her clothes into the laundry chute near her door, and climbed into the Robotnik brand sanitation and sterilization unit located in the back. She didn’t have the opportunity to stylize this contraption into something that wasn’t a hideous gray with yellow curtains, lest she void the warranty. She always found it odd how she needed to adhere to such pointless bureaucracy when she sat just under the leader of Robotropolis in terms of rank. Even if the brand fell under Robotnik’s name, the design came from a third party manufacturer somewhere in the city.

She shivered as it sprayed chemicals and cold water over her body, then sighed in relief once the warm water came on. The robotic arms and automatic processes made quick work of her filth, then dried her body and hair just as fast.

She got out, dressed herself with a new set of clothes, and put in the effort to ensure she looked her best. Spiky, perfectly groomed hair. The tiara. The dress. The shined shoes. She yawned and considered going to sleep right then and there, but she didn’t have the time.

Omletta pinged her father on a PDA, a small, red, rectangular device with dark gray buttons and a small blue screen. After a few moments, he picked up and informed her of the current situation. “The Death Egg is self-destructing as we speak!” Robotnik shouted. “The rodent triggered a chain reaction and now it’s all blowing up! Not only that, but the rat managed to get all the Chaos Emeralds, and now he’s-”

A loud thud interrupted the doctor. “Gah! He’s in his super form, Omletta! I’m not sure how much longer I can keep him away!” Omletta listened with trembling hands as Sonic continued to batter her father’s vehicle. The metal of the mech shrieked and groaned as he ripped it apart and crashed his body into the mech’s frame.

With one last impact, an alarm sounded that indicated its impending destruction. Omletta called out to her father. “Daddy! Daddy, did you make sure that the proper atmospheric re-entry-”

“Yes you blasted incompetent!” Robotnik barked at her. “I will survive the trip back down, but that is not at all my concern! The rat and that mangy fox are going to take the Master Emerald back regardless! Why exactly would I be thinking about something as simple as basic safety features!?” Omletta’s mind went back to Dr. Grimer as he said this.

“I-I’m sorry...” Omletta squeaked. She clenched her free hand into a tight fist.

“Sorry? Oh, you’ll have plenty to be sorry for...” He snarled in a low voice. As he said this, the mech’s jets gave out and gravity pulled him back down to Planet Freedom. “We’ll talk later!” Robotnik disconnected from the call, leaving his daughter in silence as their prized space station turned into smoldering rubble above her.

Omletta put down the PDA and turned on her command console. She input some pre-made orders for Plan B, then took off her tiara. No point in looking her best now, considering there was nothing she could do at the moment. Wasted effort, she thought. She climbed into bed, not bothering with undressing any further. She huddled up into a small, sniffling ball and waited for sleep to take her. She didn’t expect to rest for very long.

Omletta woke to the sound of her PDA blaring at her. She grumbled, wiped her puffy eyes, and picked it up. As the connection established itself, she looked at the time to see she slept for five hours. Her father came through from the other end and called her name.

She responded, asking for his current status. “I’m fine. Are you alright yourself, my sweet little egghead?” Omletta yawned. She wasn’t nearly awake enough to acknowledge his change in tone since the last time they spoke.

“Mmm hmm...” The young scientist mumbled. “I’m okay, daddy. I’m safe.”

“Good!” Robotnik said. “Did you get a notification on your PDA?”

Omletta requested that he wait a moment as she checked. The notification read that a squad of Egg-Robo badniks recovered the metallic Sonic copycat and were running repairs in preparation for the later stages of Plan B. She confirmed her knowledge of this news.

“This fight isn’t over!” Her father’s voice boomed with an excited cadence. “We don’t need to destroy that blasted hedgehog just yet! Angel Island is still ripe for the taking! All we need is the Master Emerald. Once we have that, we have no need to fear Sonic’s interference anymore!”

Omletta did her best to sound chipper. “Yeah, we’re still in this, daddy. I believe in us.”

Her father laughed. “I can tell you just woke up, my dearest. I will let you rest. You’ll need it.”

They ended the call on a high note, though he gave her a few small orders before she was to go back to sleep. She rallied troops from her command console and passed the orders down, then promptly flopped back onto her bed. Daddy’s happy, she thought. That’s all she needed for now.


Plan B itself was simple in theory. Assassinate Knuckles the Echidna with an explosive to prevent any interference, conduct another sweep of the island with badniks, secure the Master Emerald, industrialize the area, use Angel Island as a vantage point in the war against the Land of the Sky, then go from there. There was a catch, however.

Not long after his return to Robotropolis, Dr. Robotnik called for a meeting.

A bright light shone upon a red table with Robotnik’s logo printed on it, yet its glow did not reach much else. Darkness swallowed the farther corners and obfuscated the greater detail of each member’s face. Omletta found the chair she sat upon to be uncomfortable and hard, betraying its ornate and throne-like appearance. Every other chair, colored a dark red, looked much softer in comparison. She wished she had a normal chair like everyone else, especially considering how some of these meetings could take hours to complete.

As she sat down, Omletta found herself surrounded by strangers. She knew their faces, their names, their voices, and their roles to play in the war, but she did not know them. As far as she knew, they were commanders, scientists, diplomats, high ranking accountants, civil servants, communicators, and tacticians. All essential to the war effort.

Robotnik called upon Omletta to make a few changes to the current plan. He commanded her to upgrade one EggRobo, then pilot it directly from her command console. Omletta asked why she would need to pilot it herself, to which he replied with a most humiliating answer. “Your AI is substandard under normal circumstances, and downright terrible under our current conditions.”

Her father’s sudden remark startled her, though it was no surprise. It took a lot of effort for Omletta to not burst into tears. She didn’t object or complain, only silently nodding to avoid speaking; she feared that her warbling voice would reveal her distress and break down the willpower keeping her eyes dry. This is war, she thought. She could not afford to emote at this time. He was right, she thought. Her AI was not good at all. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, she thought.

Omletta’s discomfort did not go unnoticed as evidenced by the silence that followed her father’s remark. She felt eyes on her, some with one raised eyebrow. Some of the members of the board looked at Robotnik. One coughed, and another sniffed. The young inventor closed her eyes and hoped nobody would notice, and pretended that the board’s eyes gazed elsewhere.

“Ahem!” Robotnik caught everyone’s attention. “However, I see this as an opportunity. This is your chance to prove yourself, Omletta. A way to show us all what you are capable of. Even if your artificial intelligence is lackluster, I know that your brilliant mind is not.” He smiled as he said this.

Omletta slowly nodded her head once more, as did several others in the room. The sentiment was nearly unanimous, save for one who disagreed. “If I may...” Dr. Grimer suddenly piped up. “Perhaps this is not at all necessary. This is a lot of pressure to put squarely on one child. Perhaps I could-”

Robotnik cut him short. “We’ve discussed this, Grimer. Omletta is my Chief Robotics Engineer, not you. You have not earned my trust! Why should I let you replace her? She performs; you complain and whine! Why, you’ve even injured yourself as evidenced by the cast on your arm, which itself brings your competence into question.”

The room fell into a tense silence once again. The suits around the table stared blankly at the green doctor. How dare he question Robotnik’s genius, they must have thought, but that was merely Omletta’s best guess. Despite this, she took a deep breath and remembered what Grimer told her before. She had an opportunity to mediate the issue of the broken guard rail, and she took it. Anything, she thought, anything to keep the subject away from the low quality of her AI.

“U-Um... Daddy?”

Robotnik grumbled as he pinched his temple. “Yes, Omletta?”

“U-Um... D-Doctor Grimer says that a guard rail gave out... That’s why he’s hurt...” She squeaked.

“Hmm...” Robotnik moved his fingers from his temple to his chin. “And why is that? Were you sleeping on the job, Grimer?” He accused, looking back at the reptilian cripple.

“No, not at all my good doctor! I just needed to rest but for a moment! You see, I had been working for quite a while and merely needed a breather, and the guard rail fell apart as I did so.” Grimer elaborated.

“Hmm...” Robotnik collapsed his hands together. “Yes, I suppose that is logical on the surface, but I ask why you did not request for any of our worker bots to fix the issue instead of coming to Omletta or myself for this. I say again, there is a reason my daughter is the Chief Robotics Engineer and you are not. She would have handled the issue post-haste instead of making such a distracting racket.”

“B-But sir, she is the one who-”

“No more, Grimer!” Robotnik snapped, leaning over the table. “I will not hear of this again! Do your job, and quit wasting our time. Understood?”

After a quiet moment, Dr. Grimer sighed and nodded. “Yes sir.”

The subject returned to that of the upgraded EggRobo. Robotnik ordered his daughter to outfit it with upgraded defenses and mobility, and remote control capabilities. He didn’t care how, he just wanted it done. Omletta nodded again and wiped her eyes when nobody was looking.

An object of concern for her, however, was Grimer. After being silenced by Robotnik, he showed no contempt for him whatsoever. Instead, he stared daggers for the remainder of the meeting.

Robotnik ran out of topics to cover and dismissed the board once he felt his messages were clear. Omletta waited for everyone else to leave, but tensed up when Grimer returned shortly after and retook his seat. “A moment, Omletta.” She didn’t engage in eye contact, but she nodded as a cue for him to speak. He clasped his hands together on the table and took in a deep breath.

Grimer narrowed his eyes. “Your father puts a lot of trust in you... A lot of trust. Much more than he does for me, despite decades of diligence and hard work.”

Omletta didn’t respond. Grimer continued.

“You are lucky, heir. Very lucky. Shame it’s all going to waste, considering that you base our military on Skybound wildlife. Do you have some sort of fascination with The Land of the Sky?”

Omletta shook her head. She knew where this was going, and she wished he would go away.

“It is strange then, how the bulk of our troops look nothing like Darklandian soldiers. They are all Skybound animals, heir. Are you doing this on purpose?” Grimer asked, raising his voice.

Omletta shook her head again. Her heart raced and her face dampened with sweat. Just go away already, she thought.

“Then the only other explanation is that your father is wrong about you.”

Grimer shot up out of his seat and left, not expecting a reply. As he walked down the hall, Omletta approached the door to turn off the lightswitch.

She guided herself with the glow of her PDA and sat down in the corner. She curled into a ball and bit down on her right thumb. Her free hand clenched at her hair as she rocked back and forth.

Tomorrow is another day, she thought.


CHAPTER 1'S DRAFT IS FINALLY DONE! Time to move on to Chapter 2. I'll tweak this one some more if the need arises, but it's basically finished.

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Pub: 07 Jun 2022 11:25 UTC
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