The computer must have been crunching for a moment, as it was silent for several seconds as if considering its multitudinous possible actions.

"All combat and security units are currently in idle mode. It may be advisable to reactivate them due to intruders in the reactor core and 'Grand Eggtrium.'"

The isolation field meanwhile began to flicker and fade.

"Reactor core temperature is rising and will soon reach critical levels," said the computer. "Reactor control rods are being manually removed and should be replaced immediately."

A volumetric display appeared in front of Geoff and showed a grainy-looking array of live video feeds of an immense reactor core, laden with complex machinery. In the midst of it all was none other than Dr. Eggman in a full radiation suit, yanking things out of the core. Some of the cameras began moving to follow him; he noticed it, turned, bent over, and fanned his butt at them, then sprinted out of the frame, and out of the room.

"Unfortunately, there are no automatic or remote solutions at your disposal. Reactor maintenance and supervision systems have been compromised by the intruder and cannot function. Manual intervention may be required to prevent a catastrophic core melt incident, though, if I may add, your chances of reaching the core safely and in a timely-enough manner are low. Due to corridor design and obstructions intended to slow intruders, the shortest route from here to the reactor core measures 2.2 kilometers."

"All robotic units designed and tasked to service the reactor core have been disabled by damage caused by the intruder," the computer reiterated itself, sounding on the verge of being electronically exasperated. More security camera footage popped up to reinforce its message, showing a trail of carnage that went down the corridors, with shells of bombed-out-looking robots littering the floors everywhere. Doors leading to the core had robots tearing and blasting at them, but looked to have been welded shut, and in some cases simply obstructed by debris, leaving repair robots from other areas standing idly by, waiting for access. And, at the end of it all was an Egg Walker, sitting parked not far from a recently-launched escape pod.

"As you well know, Dr. Eggman, your security and assault robots are not built or programmed for specialized repair and maintenance. However, there remain seven marginally operable Egg Pawns in the vicinity of the core if you wish to perform a manual override and control them remotely."

It sounded doubtful.

Meanwhile, the isolation field had silently vanished, opening the deck completely to the others.

An array of joysticks, toggles, and other odd controls popped up out of the armrests for Geoff's use, along with a keyboard to go across his lap, while the volumetric display suddenly blasted an onslaught of seven separate views, all through cameras of varying degrees of grainy and discolored. Debug-mode readouts partially obstructed the edges of each of the seven robots' views with onslaughts of ever-changing, seemingly-meaningless numbers and letters.

What they saw were varying angles of the reactor core area. Nothing was self-apparent; there was a big, complicated-looking machine toward the middle of the room, with debris and battle damage everywhere, panels blasted loose, shreds of scorched metal all over the place, and robotic corpses practically lining the walls.

"Warning: Dangerously high concentration of hydrogen is forming in the reactor core area and resultant explosions should be anticipated."

On command, squad of Egg Gunners swooped down and landed with harsh, metallic clanks. Two of them plucked Seven up by either arm, leaving him to dangle limply. It seemed he really was out of it, finally.

Other pursuits weren't quite so fruitful, though. The AI in control of the ship wasn't exactly dense, but it wasn't super-intuitive, either. Perhaps even Eggman had come to distrust AI that was "too smart" or "thought too much" after some past issues. Whatever the case, results proved underwhelming when it tried to take control of the Egg Pawns for Geoff. They didn't quite move right, that is to say.

"These units are too heavily damaged to operate with standard instructions," it said hesitantly. "Please allow a moment to perform diagnostics, calibrate controls, and determine remaining operational capabilities...."

The Egg Pawns would proceed to twitch their limbs a few degrees at a time for the next minute or two.

Something that was a mixture of a sigh and a frustrated groan was released from the commanding hedgehog. His eyes were closed as his head was propped on one hand, fingers rubbing away in irritation at his brow as if trying to fight away a growing headache. This wasn't the case, but if there was one thorn in his side at the moment, it was the blasted ship itself.

"Why are you bothering with all this effort?" someone gruffly speculated from beside him.

Geoff turned in the seat, finding the other hedgehog that he had recognized by voice alone. Shadow stood there, arms crossed (of course), eyes briefly glancing over the monitors and other information in viewing distance. Compared to what the others potentially looked like, he seemed to have escaped most injury from the last few hectic moments of battle.

"What's it to you?" questioned Geoff as he revolved back to the console. "We won. I'm in control, surprisingly enough. Thought you would have gone your own way by now."

Shadow shot a glare to his greener counterpart then, a certain look that would already be familiar to their "side".

"This ship is still a weapon."

"Think I haven't realized that yet?" snapped Geoff. "Doubt Eggman just builds these things for recreation, but I don't want it to go boom with me still-"

"With all this energy you've wasted, you could have easily escaped by now," stated Shadow bluntly, taking a step forward, pointing to one of the screens that clearly showed the reactor. "That won't kill you. Not right away. You can still ensure this place can never be used again, however."

Geoff followed the direction of the finger, jaw clenched as he examined the screen at the object he could not fix or even reach.

"So... what? Just hit 'self destruct' and call it a day?"

"Exactly."

"This ship is not equipped to 'self destruct'," chimed in the computer, as if to crush their aspirations. Yet, lacking any particular self-preservation or desire to do anything other than be stiffly helpful, it soon added: "However, there are many actions that could be taken that would be highly detrimental to the Egg Destroyer's continued operation and structural integrity in order to achieve similar ends — with your authorization, of course."

Geoff listened intently as the computer delivered its available option of destruction, one hand holding his jaw as he pondered.

As if to attack the hedgehog's hesitation, Shadow spoke again.

"The doctor will return to reclaim this whether you're in control or not," he said as if it were the plainest thing in the world. "And it will be enough for him to begin anew." He looked up to the other hedgehog on the throne, the frown on his lips cold. "I'd rather not have to go through this again. Make a decision. Either way, this place will be destroyed." He turned then, beginning to walk away towards the stairs. "I'll just do it myself if need be."

Geoff didn't even bother glancing to Shadow as he strode away, his body fallen back into the spacious chair that once held a human many times his height and weight. Just leaving the ship an empty shell in orbit would seem like a proper solution, but that still left it intact. Whatever weaponry that was installed on the vessel was unknown to him, but it surely was enough to conquer nations single handedly. Leave it here and hope no one would make an attempt to discover it again or allow it to fall into the wrong hands, perhaps its previous owner's? It was a simple choice, really, and the more he allowed it to roll around in his head, the more appealing it became. Gradually, his contemplative look morphed into an expanding grin, as if he were a mischievous child discovering a new source of mayhem.

Might as well have some fireworks to celebrate the end of the "war".

"Go through with it then," the hedgehog told the computer, slipping off the grand chair and onto his feet. "But give us an hour head start here. And get me and the others something to fly out of here on while you're at it." Any respect or consideration for the computer? Not at all. Seemed Geoff had his fair share of trouble for the day and simply wanted to actually grasp the "overlord" business over at least one entity fully.

In the mean time, he found himself striding right on over to the two armed robots that held the cause for half their troubles. The hedgehog would glance up to the boy, some sort of debate sprouting in his head.

"If you wish to evacuate everyone, you are advised to use the shuttle bay," said the computer, displaying a volumetric, 3D-midair-map with the destination lit up. "A shuttle will be prepared for departure. Meanwhile, following your command, all nonessential systems will be deactivated. Combustible gases will be allowed to accumulate in key areas of the interior of the Egg Destroyer. All stores of high-explosive materials will be detonated. The vessel will be rendered unusable. You have commanded the aforementioned process to begin in one hour, following your successful evacuation. Is this correct?"

The Egg Gunners had meanwhile taken off with Seven; their bright blue thrusters lit up, and with a whoosh and whine, they soared off through the cavernous interior of the main atrium.