FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sting of the cold night air was a welcome counterweight against the dull throb in his head. Corneria park had been fortunate enough to emerge mostly unscathed from the battle, and restoring it back to its former glory had been one of the first goals of the reconstruction effort. Benches lined the path and branches formed a small canopy overhead; the whole thing had been constructed to give the illusion of days thousand years past, when you could still find little patches of the planet where the chaos of nature ruled. Fox wondered how accurate it was: no living creature had seen raw nature, and even photographs were near impossible to find.

This was one of the few places he could find serenity, these days, and despite its huge expanse, Fox knew the place well enough to know exactly which trees had been replanted, what cobblestone had been relaid, and what grass had been resewn after the battle. He'd been the first to argue with the council against a commemorative statue following the war in the park's center, because that was the last thing he wanted to see on his morning runs or evening walks.

And, of course, he was rarely all alone: the night wouldn't be complete without passing by the occasional jogger or couple seated benchside, and it always struck him how happy the common folk appeared. For as long as he could remember, he'd envied people who could be so content with what seemed to be so little: men who worked a day job they had little care for, then returned at night to a lover who seemed to exist only to absolve the need for growth, to convince him his life is meaningful. Such a stagnant existence--where was the drive and passion, and how were these aimless people happier than Fox? He was so out of touch with that reality that the notion seemed absurd, but he supposed he should take some solace in knowing it was because of him that people could pass through their lives with such little strife.

Out here, Fox had no company but his own thoughts, but lately, they hadn't been particularly pleasant.

"I have a group of kids who'd just love to have a demonstration." I don't handle that personally, ma'am; I'll give you my agent's number.

"These kids are hurting so much. They've all lost their families, and our shelter just can't afford to feed them all. Our rejection rate is so high. We could really use donations, or even just your presence at a fundraiser." I'm sorry, but I don't really have any funds to spare, sir. I'll give you my agent's number, if you want to negotiate a fundraiser.

"Can we do this off the books? I know you're very busy, but we swear it will only be an hour, and it would really help our charity if--" I'm sorry, but I really can't do that.

"I just saw you on the holo last week. You have the time to star in these big corporate commercials, but I have to tell my kids we can't afford to bring you in. I'm a little bit disappointed."

It had been a long week, and there was too much to do for a man whose only skill was raining death from the skies. He'd long since given up on trying to keep everyone happy--otherwise, it'd be damn near impossible to get through the day. Sometimes, though, the words just kept coming back.

"You left me to __die."

The later it got in the week the more Fox found himself looking forward to heading back to Meteo and sticking his nose where it didn't belong, if only because no one expected a damn thing of Renard. Part of him was hoping that he'd run into his old rival again, with silly aspirations of repairing a relationship that had never been good in the first place. All history with the man aside, the finality of their last conversation bothered him: Fox felt as if he'd fucked something up for good out of sheer obliviousness and he'd never be able to salvage it. Then again, that he was concerned about Wolf at all aside from his suspicious involvement in the ship raids spoke volumes of the state of Fox's personal and professional life, both.

Maybe if he weren't so overwhelmed with all this shit he'd been roped into doing for this city of millions, he would have had attention to spare for individuals. But it wasn't as if Fox could just stop everything; people needed him, and he needed the money. Fox ought to be disappointed that Wolf hadn't bothered trying to understand Fox's perspective, but by now whatever pretense of a bridge had existed between he and Fox was long burned. Chances seemed slim of even getting hold of Wolf again.

Ah, well. Fox's footsteps carried him off the path, into the wooded neck of the park, and he kicked back against a tree, bringing up his comm.

It took fifteen seconds for Peppy's face to flash in front of him.

"Hey, Fox. How ya been? Just finished looking over your report this morning..."

"I've been pretty bored, Pep. Thoughts?"

"Well, let's see here." Peppy's eyes looked downward, and the sound of pages flipping drifted through the comms. "Hm. Well, if you say Wolf checks out, then I have to take your word for it. I trust you."

"He isn't our guy, that's for sure. Not that I wouldn't like to see him locked up..."

"You mentioned him a couple days ago."

"Yeah." Fox sighed. "He's still got that big bounty on his head, right? There anything you could do about that?"

"You want me to make it go away?" Peppy's nose twitched when he was surprised. "Musta made one hell of a good impression on ya, Fox."

Fox shook his head. "Wolf is an ass. But he kind of had a point, don't you think? We were pretty big jerks to him, all things considered. We left them behind and didn't really give them any credit for helping out."

"I really didn't think they'd want that kind of recognition."

"I don't think they did, either, but I guess it sort of stings, seeing us get it all. And we did sort of abandon them, back on the homeworld."

"Yeah." Peppy flipped a few more pages again, then cleared his throat. "Well... okay, sure. So I could talk about nulling that bounty. Maybe I could even look into getting a story out in the papers about Star Wolf--I know a couple reporters. But, this ain't gonna put them all in the clear. Not even close."

"Explain?"

"Wolf has a lot of open investigations. He's suspicious. He ever touches down on Corneria, we'll have probable cause to search his ass, and I can guarantee we'll find something worth locking him up over."

"Fine. That's fair. Still.. don't you think this is worth doing, as a token of goodwill? It'd give me a bargaining chip, if nothing else."

Peppy shrugged. "I don't know. If you think so, then sure. I can pull some strings. I mean, I really don't care about locking him up that much. And it's not like we have a fund set aside for that bounty, or anything."

"Do it, and let me know how it goes."

"Sure." He was silent for a while, squinting down, probably scribbling something on that pad of his. "So what's your plan, then, Fox? You trying to work with Wolf?"

Fox frowned. "I don't think Wolf wants much to do with me, and I really don't know how much I can trust him. I'll keep my options open, and maybe once we get that bounty squared away, he'll be more cooperative." He thought back to the diminutive fox crouched down in the corner of that bar. "But for now, I have a lead in Meteo I want to investigate."

"Alright. Keep me updated!"

They said their farewells and the call ended. Fox kicked off the tree and headed back onto the path to finish his round. He let his thoughts wander, and his feet walked the familiar path almost on their own, until...

Huh.

He'd walked this trail almost daily for eight months now, and that meant it was very easy for him to tell when something was different. It was more an intuitive sense than a rational one: one moment he was pathing his way down the winding cobble at his regular pace, and on the next step his foot hesitated ever so slightly when the sense hit him that something wasn't quite right.

He kept his usual pace for a while, but at the next bend in the path, he paused. One hand went to his comm. Faint blue from the holographic interface mixed with the yellow-orange ambient lighting in the park, and he pointed his arm back in the direction he'd come. Scanning. A small red dot showed on the interface, some hundred feet behind him.

Fox's hand instinctively went towards his blaster, concealed at his side. But for the moment, he stayed it and continued on along his path. At the next bend, he scanned behind again, to the same result.

And then his blaster was brandished and he'd turned himself around, watching the dot retreat as he prowled towards it. Into the foliage, it went, off the worn cobble path. Fox broke into the clearing of a field, and...

It was gone.

Now that was strange. If someone had shown up, it would have been far from the first time he'd been threatened or stalked, and to be honest, Fox had been looking forward to a fight more than he would've liked to admit. That last scuffle with Wolf had left him something to prove.

He had the distinct feeling that someone was spying on him. He pulled up his comm and dialed up a cab.

---

You sure don't give up easy. He'd heard it before, spilling from Peppy's tongue. It was just a nicer way of calling him stubborn, phrased as a compliment. It was always hard to judge when persistence was something to admire versus something to mock. Sitting there with his fur bleached white, condensation from a piss-flavored beer dampening his fingers, and both eyes staring at Valen, he knew Peppy would say it was the latter.

And so he was here, listening to Valen narrating the raid he'd pulled off earlier in the week. Petty thievery, the lot of it. Fox nodded his head when appropriate and got in a word when he could. He'd spent enough time speaking at parties and galas to know how this went: let the other man get his say, ask a few specific questions to put up the pretense of investment, and then you get yours.

Valen finished his story by downing the rest of his glass in a single go. "Wasn't good, but it's the best we got. Business gone to shit, ever since interplanetary got suspended."

Fox took a drink from his own glass. "Guess it doesn't help that Wolf is eating up all the business in his little sector, eh?"

Valen shrugged. "Always been that way in Meteo. Problem is, all the mercs are flocking over here now. Oversaturation." He pushed his beer back. His suit was tight enough to show off how slender he was; it was a wonder Valen could hold his own in a fight when he had so little bulk. "He's... been a lot more antsy, lately. Used to be, he could take a joke, you know? Some little weapons ship stocked with hand-me-down arms goes missing, he looks the other way."

"But not anymore."

The other fox shook his head. "Ever since that old base of his got shot out. Guy's scared shitless that McCloud is gonna be on his ass again. Don't blame him. Doubt he could survive another wipe."

More often than not he and Wolf's meetings ended with fried shields, busted wings, or outright ruined ships. The encounter in Sargasso certainly hadn't seemed out of the ordinary to Fox: just another dogfight like any other. In retrospect, maybe that was a mistake.

"That why Wolf hates him so much?" Valen didn't immediately answer, so Fox continued. "I mean, I'm sure pirates are on his ass all the time, but..."

Valen seemed bored with the conversation; his eyes were following something behind Fox. Fox turned his head, glancing over his shoulder, and... sure enough, some fifty feet behind him, the wolfess standing up on the stage had ditched her bra. Her breasts were unreasonably huge, to the point that they just had to be artificial.

Far more interesting to Fox's eye was the feline sitting right in front of her, drooling. Panther Caruso. Hell. When did he show up? Fox guessed Panther hadn't seen him yet, crouched in the corner of the bar as he was, and Fox turned back around quickly so that Panther didn't get a look at his snout.

Panther was his point of contact with Wolf, and as risky as it was, this was too convenient to pass up. He knew this was a regular hangout of Panther's, but even after last week? Part of him had been hoping for it, but he definitely hadn't expected it. Everything was going right, today, wasn't it? All he had to do was get Panther alone again...

It felt good to be back in action, even if it was solo.

"Hell if I know," Valen said when the wolfess turned the other way. He leaned forward and braced himself on the table with his elbows, eyes meeting Fox's. And he grinned. "I got a theory, though. You wanna know what I think?"

Fox nodded, trying to quiet his thoughts and focus on the conversation at hand. Valen looked like an armchair sports analyst about to spill his theory on why this year the Huskies would wipe the floor with the Firebirds. This was all a game to him--to him and all the other overgeared mercs out in this bar. Their version of celebrity drama.

"I think they fucked." The words were so crisp that it took Fox a minute to process just what the other male had said. "You know, couple years back. Or hell, maybe right when the Aparoids hit. Then something went wrong, shit blew up, and now they hate each others' guts."

Fox guffawed. The sheer ludicrousy of it. Valen flashed him a rather smug grin, like he took great pride in parroting this sort of bullshit. "Good, isn't it?"

"You're shitting me."

"Nope. Serious as an engine failure."

"You're fucking with me. You have to be."

"What's the matter with that picture, huh?"

Fox sighed. "They're enemies. Hate each other's guts and always have. And I'm pretty sure neither of them is gay."

Valen's head tilted and he looked at Fox like he was an idiot. "It's pretty common knowledge that Wolf is gay. And Fox has that scarf. Doesn't that--what?"

Fox was shaking his head. "I want a glass of whatever it is you're drinking. Because of the scarf? Really?" The scarf had been James's, back in the day. And oh, _hell, _had James been straight.

Valen shrugged. "Whatever. You asked." Apparently, Fox wasn't looking any less indignant, because Valen huffed and leaned in. "Look, I get you've got this fucking hero worship complex going on about Wolf, but chill. It's not like I'm saying he ain't tough. You gotta be a real badass to be a faggot out here. I got a lot of respect for the guy." He smirked. "Besides, way you keep asking about him, I'd think you'd be happy to find out he likes bending over pretty-boy foxes."

The words were light-hearted, but they made Fox roll his eyes. "Jackass." There was no response, and silence dragged on. Fox didn't exactly want to say any more about that, so it was time to change the topic. "I got to thinking about what you said last time, by the way. Maybe that tiger--what's her name?"

"Shaela."

"Yeah, Shaela. Maybe it isn't such a bad idea to see what you got."

Valen sighed. He was silent for a while, like he was thinking."...alright. Only because I like you. There's another cartel shipment I got wind of. Well-guarded. Their flight path's a bit of the way, but if--"

Fox shook his head. "I'm a merc, not a smuggler. I don't deal in drugs."

Valen scoffed. "Oh, please. Couple months out here and you'll chuck that goody-two-shoes shit out the airlock."

"Can the superiority complex. I want a contract with a salary and anonymity." Valen laughed. Fox's fur stood on end and he growled. "Look, I know I'm fucking good enough. I'm a better pilot than anyone in the room. You want to see proof, we can hit up the sims."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're the best. You and everyone else who walks in the door. Cool your engines, hotshot." The words were damn infuriating and drew a growl from Fox.

"I can prove it." Fox lifted his rump enough to fish out his wallet. Out came a card, dropping down on the table in front of Valen. "S-rank, military entrance exam." Then a folded up slip of paper. "CFA exam scores. Top one percent of all academy graduates." The documents were all real; having a high-up friend in the military had its benefits. Good old Peppy. "You give me work, I don't disappoint."

"Well, how about that." Valen let out a resigned sigh. He was silent for a while, thinking, then leaned forward over the table, and dropped his voice. "Since you're so confident, I got somethin' that might interest you. Dangerous mission. Lost some crew last time, but the pay's per enemy ship downed."

Fox leaned in closer, mirroring the other fox. "Yeah? When?"

"It ain't quite that easy." For a while, Valen was silent, staring off around the room like he was thinking. "You come talk to me next week. I'll pull some strings, see if I have anything to tell you. I got a crew that could use a couple more wings, but let's just say the boss-man don't trust easy."

Fox squinted. What could make Valen, who bragged so openly about raiding merchant vessels, be this cautious? "Next week, then. Alright."

Check one box off the list. There was just one more thing to do.

---

Fox perched himself outside the club's entrance, leaned up against the wall. A good half-hour passed before he saw the black-furred feline slip out of the bar's entrance, then fell into step a good way behind him. Panther saw him coming this time and worked himself into a cute shuffle trying to lose him, but Fox couldn't be thrown off easily. Before too long, Panther had his back to the wall, growling back at Fox, who was quick to brandish a blaster at Panther's skull.

Panther wasn't as imposing as Wolf, but he was tall, and his strikingly handsome features prohibited him from looking scary, even with his fangs bared. "Is this really necessary? Haven't we already been through this once?"

At least it seemed Wolf hadn't squealed his identity just yet. "I'd like to talk with Wolf again, but I don't want to go just barging in to his ship."

"And?"

"His number. I need it. You're going to tell me how I can reach him, and then you'll never mention this to him. Or I'll find you."

Panther sucked his teeth. "You really could have just asked. You must have really pissed him off if you're acting like this." He tilted his head. "That was you that choked out Leon, wasn't it?"

Of course he couldn't have just asked; he likely couldn't have approached Panther without provoking hostility, and both of them knew it. Still, buried there at the end of Panther's groveling was a precious little tidbit of information. Fox knew he shouldn't give away any more than he had to--he still wasn't sure if he and Star Wolf would be friends or enemies, in the end--but curiosity got the better of him. He leaned in. "What did Wolf say?"

"I ought to ask _you. _I sure don't know. He locked himself in his room and barely said a word the whole rest of the week."

Fox smirked. "How... cute."

"Cute? You look his type. Did you--"

Fox hissed. He brought his blaster in close and primed his finger on the trigger. "How about I do you like I did Leon?" Renard was nothing if not vicious, and he clearly spoke Panther's language, because the response was to shrink down and look up with ears down.

"Mercy. I'll tell you. I'll give you his number."

"Was that so hard? Say it."

Fox could feel Panther fuming. This was almost too easy. He couldn't believe Panther would come to the same place like this two weeks in a row after what happened last time. On so many levels it was just such a stupid thing to do. It was almost too easy. It... it was too easy. In his hubris and eagerness to get back into the game, Fox perhaps hadn't been as cautious as he should have.

The first sign that something was wrong was the scent. He didn't know Panther's scent that well, but he knew something in the air was off. The second much more obvious one was the loud crash of a booted foot behind him. And then the prick of a blade against his neck.

"Don't move." He'd recognize that voice anywhere, if only by the way it made the fur on his neck stand tall. Damn it all. This was not how he wanted to run into Wolf.

Fuck.

"Boss?" Panther looked about as surprised as Fox felt.

Fox hissed. His tail lashed behind him. If he could duck behind Panther's ship, maybe he'd be safe. There was another ship behind him he could take cover under if he could get a stunning blow on Wolf, which wasn't likely. His own ship was on the complete opposite side of the hangar, though, so escaping was going to be tough shit.

"I thought I told you to scram. And here you are." The tip of Wolf's bayonet dug into the back of his neck enough that Fox winced and wondered if he'd break skin. "Snooping around. Threatening my teammates, again."

The last thing he wanted was Wolf pissed off at him, especially after he spent all those hours on the phone with Peppy. He wasn't ready yet to have this conversation--especially not when Wolf had him cornered like this. Damn it all. The frustration brought an angry edge to his voice. "It's not what you think." The words sounded about as stupid as Fox feared they would.

"You did good, Panther. Leave us."

Panther stood tall now, shoulders relaxed. "You sure?"

"Go."

"Yes, boss."

Panther pushed past Fox, and as he did so, he snarled and snapped his jaws. Fox growled back and met Panther's glare while he boarded his ship. The low droning hum of Wolfen engines filled the hangar, and Fox watched the black-and-red silhouette roll down the hangar until the bay door sealed behind it.

"Stand."

Fox waited a good few seconds, just to spite the man, but he was rewarded with a jab to the top of his skull and a louder, firmer, "Stand." Fox found himself rising to his feet quickly. He turned to face his rival, baring his teeth. He was face-to-face with Wolf's blaster.

This is how he always imagined he'd meet Wolf, if they ever did meet in person: with an angry stare from across a primed blaster.

"I've locked down your ship," Wolf said. "So don't even think of running for it. You're going to follow me, and we're going to have a nice chat. Got it?"

Fox nodded, and Wolf lowered his blaster.