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The General's Feast

"Dinosaur planet just up ahead, Cap'n," Peppy reported in his usual country accent, hearing the bridge's main doors slide open.

With a brisk and confident stride, Fox Mccloud made his way down to his command chair and took a seat, directing his gaze to the main viewer. "Thank you for the update. R.O.B., can I get a visual?"

"Coming up now, Captain," replied the monotone, robotic voice of the Great Fox's operator. The flashy mess of different cameras, sensor readings and ship stats on the main viewscreen quickly vanished, replaced by an enlarged image of the planet.

"E.T.A.?" the red-furred canine asked as he punched in a few commands to the terminal connected to his chair's armrest.

"Approximately 55 minutes, Captain," R.O.B. answered.

"Alright," Fox said. He tapped the comm button on his terminal, routing it through ship-wide speakers. "Slippy, get your butt up here," he ordered, his voice echoing throughout the ship.

"I'm in the engineering room right now!" replied the amphibian's high-pitched voice. "You wanted me to fix those startup glitches with the impulse engines, remember?"

"It can wait for now, Slippy. We're almost there and we've got to have a quick meeting before we go down there."

"Understood, coming right up, Fox." The comm clicked out, and just a few short minutes later, Slippy waddled onto the bridge and took a seat with the other members of the Starfox team.

The Great Fox had been patrolling sector V Alpha for about seven months. For nearly that entire span of time, little in the name of excitement had occurred--until now, anyways. Two days prior, they had received a strange transmission from a nearby source, a planet mostly unknown to either Corneria or Starfox, identified only by the mysterious title of Dinosaur planet. The transmission--an audio-only message--had come from an individual calling himself General Scales, who requested that the Great Fox, being the closest Cornerian vessel in range, come to Dinosaur planet on behalf of the Cornerian people to take part in a 'special affair'. No further details were given.

"We still don't know what the hell this 'General Scales' guy wants," Fox said sternly, glancing from Slippy to Peppy and then back to the toad once again. "I think it would be in our best interest to be wary and come armed."

"You sure?" Slippy asked. "He sounded friendly enough, didn't he?"

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Peppy countered, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sighing. "Think about that time on Benitar station. You and Falco thought that group of traders you met seemed friendly. Remember what happened?"

Slippy blushed and looked away, embarrassed. "We don't need to talk about that, do we?"

Fox chuckled at the interaction of his crewmates and then shook his head, sighing deeply. "It's not that I'm expecting this to turn out bad, I just...have an odd feeling about this, I guess. And it wouldn't hurt to be cautious."

"Exactly," Peppy affirmed with a nod. "If that's all, we should go get the arwings prepped for launch."

The three of them sat up together. Fox turned to R.O.B.. "Contact me if anything out of the ordinary shows up when we're gone, alright?"

"Affirmative, Captain," the robot answered simply.

A few moments after the Great Fox entered the orbit of Dinosaur planet, three arwings launched and flew downward, into the planet's atmosphere.

(...)

"General, the feast is almost prepared," reported Fang, "and we've just detected three sets of vessels descending into the atmosphere."

General Scales sat in his chair and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "'Almost prepared', Fang?" he repeated in a gruff voice, almost mockingly. "What does that mean?"

"Yes, sir. We should be finished in about an hour."

The general stood up from his seat and took a few threatening steps forward, glaring down at Fang as he approached. His features slowly tensed up into an angry, teeth-baring glower.

Staring back up at him, Fang gulped down nervously. Compared to the general, he was much smaller and shorter. His scales were a sunset-like orange color, and he wore a simple set of brown armor. The rex likely would've appeared more threatening in another situation, but standing in the shadow of the SharpClaw tribe's leader, he couldn't have looked--or felt--more weak and helpless than he did.

General Scales, on the other hand, was a physical and psychological menace. The rex's chestplate was black with red patterns, a gold-plated belt, and gold spikes running along the shoulder guards. He had shin guards on his legs, and one of his hands was missing, with a two-bladed prosthetic in its place. A hood-like garment--black and red like his armor--surrounded his face, and atop his head was a helmet with two black horns protruding upwards. His garb was minimalistic, leaving his arms, shoulders, feet and much of his legs bare, but to little disadvantage. His body, covered in green scales, was muscular and imposing, and Fang had seen the general demonstrate his physical prowess on many occasions.

"If our prized guests from the Lylat System are already heading down, they'll be here in less than an hour," General Scales growled.

"Y-yes, Sir, I u-understand," Fang stuttered out nervously. "We'll pick up the pace and be finished b-before then, Sir!"

Even if a faster pace was impossible--as Fang suspected it likely was--his fear of the general drove him to fabricate this piece of false assurance. General Scales hated inefficiency with a burning passionate, and any of his subordinates who failed to do their duties to his satisfaction had a strange tendency to completely vanish, usually around dinner time. Nobody liked to talk about it, but Fang and all his fellow SharpClaw officers had a pretty good idea of where they would end up should they fall short of the ravenous general's expectations.

The general raised an eyebrow, seemingly doubtful about Fang's claim, but nonetheless he nodded and turned, beginning to walk away. "Finish on time, or there will be consequences, Fang."

Fang gulped down hard and nodded, failing to find the strength to answer with a verbal affirmation. Stay calm, Fang, he thought to himself. You'll make it out of this, so long as you meet the general's demands. In truth, Fang wasn't even sure why the general had decided to host such a dinner--Dinosaur Planet had little history with the Lylat System, and given their current political climate, the timing seemed odd--but he knew that for such an important occasion, it was his obligation to make sure everything went perfectly.

He waddled back out into the dining room, where a large group of the general's subordinates were hard at work setting up the tables with dishes, decorative ornaments and hot, freshly-cooked food from the kitchen.

"The general says we've gotta be done within the hour, so pick up the pace!" Fang yelled out, trying to sound as intimidating as he could. "We don't want our guests or General Scales to be disappointed, do we?"

(...)

The landing pad was simply an empty, grassy field amidst the sprawling mountainscape to either side, just as foretold to the Starfox crew in General Scales' message. Just a few short moments after they had landed and hopped out of their arwings, an entourage of dinosaurs came up to welcome them.

"Greetings!" shouted a rex with orange scales. "On behalf of both the SharpClaw tribe and our entire world, we welcome you to Dinosaur Planet. May I ask for your names?"

Fox tilted his gaze up to look the dinosaur in the eyes, as he was about a foot or so taller than he was. He nodded appreciatively and replied, "Thank you, we're happy to be here on your world. My name is Fox Mccloud."

"And I'm Peppy Hare," Peppy said with a smile, and then, motioning over the amphibian standing beside him, "and this is Slippy Toad."

The dinosaur nodded to each of them. "My name is Fang. Please, come with me."

Fox, Slippy and Peppy followed close behind Fang and the small group of fellow rexes as they started towards a large stone stairway cut into the mountainside.

"This is one of the SharpClaw Tribe's primary bases," Fang explained as they began their descent down the tunnel, dimly lit with torches fixed to the jaggedly-shaped walls. "It's a large underground complex interconnected by naturally occurring tunnels."

"That's very interesting. Umm...Fang, was it?" Peppy asked the rex, deftly changing the subject. "We appreciate the hospitality, but might I ask why we were called here to Dinosaur Planet? Your message was rather vague."

"Ah...yes, that," Fang replied quietly. Fox couldn't see his face, but by the tone of Fang's voice, he seemed somewhat nervous and apprehensive. I wonder what's got him on edge all of the sudden, Fox pondered.

"You'll find out soon enough," Fang concluded, sounding more confident now. "General Scales has a feast prepared for everyone. He'll tell you all about it then."

"A feast? That's good to hear, I'm famished!" Slippy said with a giddy chuckle. Despite the toad's optimism, however, Fox and Peppy exchanged worried glances. They didn't have to say a word to communicate the thought they both had. Something about this isn't quite right.

Before long, the descending stairway came to an end, in what appeared to be a sort of lobby or waiting room. The room's exterior still looked much like the tunnels, but there were a few pieces of furniture to sit on, and at the end of the room was a large set of double-doors--likely leading to the dining room, Fox figured--as well as more tunnels extending outward on either side of them.

"Hold on for just a moment," Fang said, "and in the meantime, go ahead and make yourselves comfortable! The other guests should be arriving shortly." He scurried away down the leftmost tunnel and took a sharp right through a nearby door. The rest of Fang's party went back up the stairway, perhaps to go collect the other guests Fang spoke of.

"Other guests?" Fox said quietly once they were alone, huddling up with Slippy and Peppy in a small circle. "Other Cornerians?"

"Who knows," Peppy muttered, shaking his head dismally. "Fang wouldn't even tell us why we're here. I'm getting an odd vibe from this place."

"Are you sure you aren't just being too quick to judge?" Slippy countered. "Maybe they just want to extend an arm out to the Lylat System in good will."

Fox opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a deep, roaring voice from a nearby room, yelling out, "I TOLD YOU TO BE PREPARED!" All three of the Starfox crew looked in the sound's direction, momentarily stunned. Following the roar was a short series of panicked pleas from a voice sounding much like Fang's, too faint to make out the words clearly.

"Hmm...well," Fox began a moment later, trying to ignore what he had just heard, "Slippy does make a point. They haven't tried to disarm us or anything, or shown any sign of ill-will." The canine tapped the pistol holstered on his hip, reaffirming to himself that it was still there. "Still, just keep being wary. We don't know these guys and their motives seem sketchy."

"Gotchya," Peppy said. Slippy replied with a simple nod. Just then, the sound of footsteps emerged behind them.

"Starfox!?" shouted an all-too-familiar voice, followed by a low, seething growl. "The hell are you three doing here!?"

"Wolf O'Donnell..." Fox muttered, his featured suddenly drooping. Just when the situation couldn't possibly get any more complicated, too.

"You folks are acquainted, then?" asked one of the SharpClaw escorts, looking from the Starfox crew to Wolf and the two individuals behind him--Leon Powalski and a panther Fox didn't recognise--and then back to Fox again.

"I wish we weren't," Peppy muttered, his paw resting patiently against his blaster, just as Fox's was.

"I'm getting that impression," the escort replied, his tone dry and unamused. "All we ask is that you keep your personal squabbles out of tonight's festivities. So please, paws off the weapons." As he said the last part, he clenched the spear in his hand and gave a stern glare at Fox and Peppy, as well as Wolf, who was also preparing to draw. "We'll take them if need be."

"Alright then," Fox said warily, pulling his paw away. He kept a silent, intimidating glare locked on Wolf. "If that's how it is, we'll keep to ourselves."

A few more escorts came down a moment later, this time with two more guests in tow. One of them was a strange, fox-like girl with blue fur--a race Fox wasn't even familiar with--but beside her was yet another familiar face.

"Changed your uniform, eh, Fox?" Falco said with an amused chuckle. "I think the new look suits you."

"Falco?!" Fox exclaimed. He glanced down at the clothes Falco had referred to--he had recently switched to a sleeveless vest that was much to his liking--and then back up at his old avian friend, someone he hadn't seen in quite a long time.

"Well, shoot. It's a fuckin' reunion then, ain't it?" Wolf said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "Who else is due to arrive soon? Bill? Andross? My mom?"

"I don't believe I've met many of you," said the feline with jet-black fur, stepping out into the middle of the crowd's quickly growing commotion. He gracefully spun around on his heel and gave everyone a charming grin, certainly appearing like he wanted to make a show of himself. "My name is Panther Caroso!"

"We don't care," Fox replied with a grumble.

"Sorry for the wait!" Fang said as he stumbled towards the group hurriedly, drawing everyone's attention. "I understand you all must have a lot of catching up you'd like to do, but you'll have plenty of time for that during the feast. Please, come with me."

Following Fang's instructions, the group accompanied him through the large doors and into a spacious dining hall. The long table in the middle was already lined with a variety of foods--albeit, primarily meat, which made sense given the SharpClaw tribe's predatory physique--and sitting in a chair at the opposite head of the table was a large reptilian beast with green scales, who Fox knew must have been General Scales himself.

"Come in, come in!" he said in a loud, booming voice, wearing a grin that showed off many rows of threatening sharp teeth. "Go ahead, take a seat wherever you like, and let's get dinner started."

As everyone began to seat themselves, Fox overheard a nearby interaction. "Would you care to sit next to me, beautiful lady?" said Panther to the mysterious vixen in a seductive voice, leaning in close to her.

In response, she slugged him in the face and walked away to sit on the other side of the table, muttering, "In your dreams, pervert..."

"Who is she?" Fox quietly asked Falco, who was sitting right beside him. "You came in with her earlier."

"Her name is Krystal," the avian replied. "She said she came here to investigate her parents' deaths."

"Hmm...odd," Fox replied, turning to the food to start filling his plate. "And what about you then, Falco? It's certainly been a while since we've seen you."

The avian frowned and grumbled quietly, appearing both irritated and unsettled by the question. "It's my business, not yours, Fox," he muttered, turning away.

"The food looks excellent, General," Peppy said loudly, "but it's, uhh...a lot of meat." The herbivore chuckled anxiously. "Not really what my kind was designed for."

"Ah, yes!" the general exclaimed. "We have some plant-based options prepared as well, just as I suspected we might require." He waved a few silent instructions to some assistants to his right, who scurried off to an adjacent room and return a moment later with a few plates of greens.

"So, General Scales," Fox began after swallowing his first mouthful of food, "I'm sure I speak on everyone's behalf when I ask, why is it you've invited us here?"

"An excellent question," the general began after starting to dig into his own food as well--a sheerly massive plate of nothing but meat. Fox felt intimidated just looking at it. He must be quite the carnivore, he thought to himself.

"You see," the general continued, "I've been meaning to reach out to the Lylat System for some time now. My peoples' interactions with yours have been few and far between, and it's about time we became...better acquainted, yes?" His last few words were preceded by a thoughtful pause, as if he had to phrase it in just the right way.

"I suppose that makes sense," Falco said, weighing into the conversation. "But if that's the case, why invite a bunch of mercenaries?"

"That's the question on all our minds, I reckon," Wolf added, taking a big, messy slug of his drink. "So what's the big deal, Scales?"

"Very simply, you were the closest individuals in range," General Scales answered. "That, and I knew that some of you must have connections to Corneria's military, so the message of Dinosaur Planet's welcoming arms would get passed along somehow." There was a moment of silence as the general sighed and took a gulp of his drink. "I don't much care for dealing with large political entourages. Doing things this way is much simpler, and allows us dinosaurs to get a better idea of what your people are truly like."

"Hmm...alright," Wolf mumbled.

Fox put his utensils down and placed a paw on his aching temple. Out of nowhere, it seemed, an intense wave of vertigo passed over him.

"It's a pleasure to meet your people in person like this, then," Peppy said with a confident smile directed to General Scales.

"Of course, of course!" the general answered excitedly. His features, previously appearing appreciative and illustrious, twisted into a devious, unsettling grin. "It's my pleasure as well."

Fox tried to look around, but everything he could see had become fuzzy and distorted. Everything around him--Slippy, Peppy, Falco, the members of Starwolf, Scales and the many dinosaurs scuttling about, as well as the scenery of the archaic, cavern-like dining hall--everything was just a shapeless blur. His ears were starting to ring too, and quickly, his headache grew even worse. His body felt immensely heavy. "G-guys?" he forcibly uttered out, trying to focus enough to form a coherent sentence. "Is anyone else f-feeling strange?"

One or two others responded, but Fox couldn't make out the words distinctly. There was a loud thump beside him, so he looked over. From what he could tell, Falco had passed out and collapsed off his chair, now sprawled out helplessly on the ground below.

What...what the hell is happening? he thought to himself frantically, trying as hard as he could to concentrate. Did they do something to us when we weren't looking? Is it something in the air, or...perhaps they drugged the food? Everything is a blur. I've got to focus...

"Y-you...what's h-happening...w-what did you d-do?" Wolf uttered in a pained growl. Using all of the willpower he could muster, Fox stood up from his chair and stared forward, trying to force his senses back into functionality. His eyes were still tricking him, but he could make out the blurry form of Wolf standing behind his chair, using one arm to keep himself propped up and the other to point his blaster at the general's face. The general stood before them, his posture still tall and proud. Besides him and the two canines, everyone else had been quickly subdued into unconsciousness.

"Looks like we've got two fighters," General Scales said, cackling to himself in amusement. "It's no matter. They'll meet the same fate." The large, hungry reptilian beast dragged his tongue across his chops.

"The s-same f-fate?!" Fox growled violently, stumbling forward and yanking his blaster out from its holster as he tried to make his way to Scales. The pulsing in his head was still intense and unrelentlessly painful, but Fox managed to fight his way through it, now fueled with anger. "Wha...w-what did you d-do to my crew?!"

"Oh, my, you certainly are determined," Scales mused pretentiously. "If you really are feeling so bold as to approach me and make demands in your incapacitated state, perhaps I should devour you first."

Devour? Fox repeated in his head, dumbfounded by what he just heard. He was now standing right in front of the beast, and only when he looked up did he truly realize how massive and imposing Scales was in comparison. He couldn't help but freeze in place.

Two strong arms grabbed Fox and hoisted him right off his feet, into the air. General Scales widened his jaws, exposing the cavern within, lined with rows of sharp teeth. His saliva-coated tongue slathered around hungrily, and just beyond it was a tunnel into a dark abyss, one that Fox Mccloud would never return from.

He didn't even have time to think. In one swift movement, Fox was thrust forward into the greedy maw and forced down the beast's gullet with a few quick, powerful gulps. That was all it took.

(...)

The general let out a loud belch once his first meal was sealed away. He had eaten quite a bit of the meat from his plate earlier, but in truth, that was just a small appetizer, hardly even a snack. The true feast was about to begin.

Wolf O'Donnell--the only other guest who had managed to thusfar fight through the drug's effects--stood before General Scales, trembling weakly as he stared up at the ravenous beast.

"Y-you...just ate..."

"Yes, and you're next, pup." Scales smacked his chops and grinned down at the meager canine, taking a few large steps forward. Wolf still held the blaster in his paws, aimed up at the general, and as he approached he took a few frantic shots. Scales deftly dodged away and clamped onto Wolf's wrist with his hand, squeezing until the canine let out a yelp of pain and was forced to drop his weapon. Easy prey, Scales thought to himself with a chuckle. Feeble and powerless, these snack-sized runts. It's no wonder they're doomed to become food.

O'Donnell's face was ridden with fear and anger as he struggled in the general's grasp, but in his weakened state, there was nothing he could do to fight back. Just as he had done with Fox, Scales lifted the canine up into the air and opened his jaws wide, ready for the second course in the night's grand feast. This time, however, he lowered him down feet-first. Wolf's frenzied struggles and pleas quickly dwindling down into quiet, incoherent muttering as the spiked food finally started to take full effect.

Scales placed a hand on his throat as he clamped his jaws shut and swallowed the wolf down, feeling his squirming form glide down his tight gullet, down into his stomach to meet the leader of his rival team. He gave his engorged gut a few hefty pats and looked around at the others, sprawled about throughout the dining hall. He had six more tasty meals to devour, and he was eager to do so, feeling not the slightest bit full despite how much he had already eaten. The leaders of both Starfox and Starwolf were soon to be little more than digested meat in his stomach. It only seemed right that their team members would follow suite.

Scales first wandered over to the avian. "Falco, was it?" he asked aloud, despite the obvious lack of anyone to respond. "I've always loved the taste of bird." The general picked the avian up and hastily shoved him into his mouth, swallowing him down in a matter of seconds and letting out a powerful belch. A few blue feathers fluttered out of his mouth and floated to the ground.

Next up was the vixen, Krystal. She was unconscious under the table, her arm outstretched as if she were trying to grab something before she passed out. Whatever it was, she would never retrieve it. Scales picked her up and devoured her with a series of noisy slurps.

After that, Scales was suddenly overcome with a hunger for reptilian meat--something he ate quite frequently, but enjoyed nonetheless. O'Donnell's companion Leon was perfect for suiting such a hunger, so he was next.

After Leon was Slippy, and after Slippy was the one called Panther Caroso. Last but certainly not least, the general came upon the wise old rabbit named Peppy. He was past his prime, but had quite a bit of meat on him, so he made the perfect end to the feast.

When he was done gulping the rabbit down, Scales meandered slowly to his personal chamber. He discarded all the restricting garments and armaments from his body, allowing his large, bulging gut to hang out freely. Then he laid down in his bed and let out a content sigh. He could feel a whole maze of squirms from within his stomach, but it would only be a matter of time before its occupants would be digested and those futile movements would come to an end.

General Scales began to grow drowsy as his food coma started setting in. He closed his eyes, gave his stomach a few good rubs, and then slowly drifted off into sleep.

(...)

By the time the general woke up, his belly was completely still. The struggling bodies of all eight of his prized guests had been digested down into nothing more than extra heft--that, and a large mess patiently waiting to be ejected from his back-end.

He gave his belly a few pats and chuckled, admiring all the hard work it had done. "You Cornerians made nice company over dinner," he said with a grin, "but I think I much prefer you as food."

Scales could feel the contents of his bowels shifting around as he sat up on the edge of his bed. His guests--or rather, what remained of them--were finally prepared to once again meet the light of day in their new, far-superior form. It's been a fun ride, General Scales mused haughtily, but it's about time for me to drop a load.

The reptilian beast squatted on his bed and lifted his hefty tail, exposing the hole underneath. He started pushing and let out a soft grunt. One after another, massive logs of shit were squeezed out, each one filled with a random aggregation of skeletal remains. They plopped onto the bed below Scales each with a gentle thud.

"Aaahhh...there we go," Scales uttered with a pleasurable moan. He got off the bed and took a few steps back, taking a long moment to admire the messy brown mountain of bone-filled shit on his bed. "You all look much better now, if I do say so myself," he said with a loud, maniacal chuckle. "Your remains will make fine trophies."

A short time later, there was a knocking on the door. "Come in," Scales commanded.

The door swung open, and three rexes walked in--Fang, followed by two others. They all stopped right in their tracks a moment later. Fang's eyes went wide as he saw the absolute mess that had become of the general's bed. Then he looked over to General Scales. Seeing the general completely naked added a deep red blush to the already stunned expression on his face. There was a short moment of silence, but the small rex was ultimately able to gulp down his fears and speak up. "Sir, we were instructed to come clean up...a mess."

"Yes, I'm sure you were," the general replied, snickering to himself as he glared down at Fang. "But I believe we have some unfinished business."

Fang barely had any time to react. General Scales latched onto him tightly and hoisted him up into the air and right up to his face, so he was staring him right in the eyes.

"S-sir?!" Fang exclaimed, shaking fearfully in the general's grasp.

"Didn't I tell you there would be consequences if the dinner wasn't ready in time?" Scales growled.

"B-but...we got it d-done in under an hour, like y-you said! R-right?!"

"I told you to get the dinner finished before the guests arrived," Scales answered. "You were ten minutes too late."

Fang couldn't seem to muster up the courage to reply. By the look of it, he was absolutely consumed by fear, knowing all too well what was about to happen.

Scales grinned and licked his chops. "I'm demoting you to breakfast, effective immediately." And without a moment more to spare, the general shoved Fang into his wide-open jaws and down his gullet, gulping him down quickly. When he was done, he let out a loud, powerful belch, then turned to other two rexes that had accompanied Fang into his chamber, both of whom were staring up at him fearfully.

"Well? Get to work cleaning already, or you'll both be next," he said simply. The two of them quickly got to work. Scales got his garments back on and left his chamber, well-fed and ready to go attend to the day's duties.

Today's first order of business will be to open up a more formal communications network with the Lylat System, Scales thought to himself. Corneria's a whole planet full of food, and like all good food, I intend to harvest it.

The thought of eating more of them brought a smile to his face. I just hope there are others that taste as good as you did, Fox.