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X

Chapter -10- The Most Important Mission

Six hours later...

Andrew Oikonny paced , radio in hand, in an old command center. The windows were gone, and dead mold blackened the ceiling near the windows at the front of the room, but it had long-since died out when the moon lost its atmosphere, years ago.

"Stand by, Sierra Six."

Andrew bent at the waist and examined a small bit of dead mold on the windowsill that held the shape of a hand, including the fingers. He stepped back from the window and examined the shape of a body, made from dead mold on the floor.

Oikonny reached for an audio recorder in his pocket with his free hand. He thumbed the record button. In a soft tone, he whispered, "Uncle Andross, you would have found this interesting - a Krazoa being died and became moldy right here, long ago. What happened to his skeleton? Why have I not seen any skeletons of their kind on this moon? Why have none been found on Sauria, yet?"

Silence.

"Still, fascinating. They decompose like any other race from Lylat. While resilient to radiation, cold, and vacuum, the fact of the matter is simple: mold spores can only survive so long in the cold, in vacuum, and without atmospheric protection that limits the UV exposure and radiation from Lylat's Star. I wonder if any mold survived the long period without an atmosphere? Perhaps only the deepest bunkers? Ones unfound thus far? Everything I have seen suggests nothing survived the period this moon went without an atmosphere. I wonder what Uncle Andross found during his stay, here. Still, the above-ground bunkers should have been filled with enough mold spores, dead or not, to make breathing a toxic and deadly chore. But most things are pristine on this moon. How is that possible? Perhaps the Krazoa left some sort of A. I. computer program to clean in the wake of the destruction? Perhaps ventilation and filtration systems are superior and manage to function after two thousand years? If any mold is found alive, can it be weaponized? More on that later..."

Andrew approached the window again.

He brought his radio back to his lips. "Come back, Sierra Six. How many men were you able to bring?"

"Three hundred soldiers and two hundred pilots outfitted for soldiering, sir."

"Five hundred against three, that's perfect!" Andrew grinned brightly. "Send one hundred men to Sauria and secure the most populated villages. The other four hundred will come here and spread out to search for Star Fox. How many ships did you bring?"

"We have troop transport ships. Without knowing the compliment of the new Star Fox Carrier, we could only risk enough fighters to protect the transport ships and the capital ship protecting them."

Andrew thought about the numbers for a moment. "That's ... virtually the remainder of my military!"

"We left pilots and our best warriors on Venom to protect it from a Cornerian incursion. Our intel suggests that the Cornerian Defense Force may make a move to fully liberate Venom during our attempt on Sauria."

Andrew clenched the radio firmly in his hand and exhaled through clenched teeth. "You mean indoctrinate Venom. They cannot liberate something that isn't enslaved. Who would lead the charge on Venom if we have Star Fox pinned down?"

"Our intel said it's a pilot named William Grey. Have you heard of this man?"

Andrew sighed. "Yes, I've heard of him. All right, well..." He took a deep breath. Something told him to send a few soldiers back to Venom, but he decided not to. "How far out are you?"

"Roughly an hour. Ninety minutes tops."

"All right. I'll be waiting. Hurry." Andrew put the radio back onto his belt.

X

X

Meanwhile...

Falco dodged an attack by rolling his ship hard to port. He opened fire on another enemy, tearing into its rear shields until a few shots struck its engine boosters. It pulled up, but smoke and flecks of burning metal came off its backside.

The glowing metal chunks of fuselage, and bits of sooty booster slag cooled instantly, becoming dark in the cold of space. They pelted off the shields of Falco's fighter, causing the briefest glow, seen only by the falcon's sharp eyes.

Falco smirked and pulled around to hunt for the guy that tried to fire on him from behind a moment prior. He didn't see anyone and assumed that fighter broke away to regroup elsewhere.

His HUD flashed.

"Incoming call, huh?" Falco reached down and touched the capacitive screen, answering it. "Go for Falco."

"Lombardi! Long time!"

"Bill? Jeeze, it's been a long-damn-time!"

"Yeah, no kidding! Hey, so, nearly the entire Venom air guard is over Sauria, right now."

"Yeah, no shit. I'm fighting them, mano-y-groupo."

"By yourself?"

"Uh, duh. Who else could handle this many at once?"

"You going to be okay?"

"Haven't taken any damage yet, Bill. So, what's up?"

"Hey, let me ask you a question real fast before business - are you a falcon or an Edward's Pheasant?"

"What? You talkin' about my markings? My mom's dad was an E. P., my mom's mom was half falcon, half turkey. I've got a cousin that's full turkey. Lives on Fichina - we call him the Cold Turkey cause he used to smoke. Dad's side is all falcon, but there's a bit of hawk on my granddad's side. Don't know how much. Half, maybe? Quarter? What, are you calling me as a lifeline for a gameshow right now? Why're you asking?"

"Would I play a gameshow wearing a helmet and visor?"

"Okay, true. So, what's the word?"

"While the Venom Air Guard is distracted over Sauria, I'm taking a group to Venom to finish off the last of their military. You want in on this? We're going to finally break Venom of their dependence on Andrew Oikonny."

"Wow! Seriously? Geez, you guys are opportunists!" Falco crowed in amusement.

"You want in on it?"

"Man, I dunno. Fox is down on the Saurian moon right now."

"Ask him. I could use an Ace-in-the-Hole on my wing. We'd pay you, of course. You're a mercenary. Corneria would foot the bill."

"Let me open a multi-call. One sec." Falco glanced up, then around himself. He looked at his scope, then quickly opened a call to Fox and patched in the third party.

A moment later, Fox's tired face came on the small screen.

Falco gestured in front of the computer, putting the visual up on the cockpit HUD. The main large screen between his knees went back to showing diagnostic and sensor reports for the Arwing II.

Fox cleared his throat. "Falco ... wait, and Bill?"

Bill laughed. "Fooox! You're not wearing a shirt, buddy!"

"Yeah, it's humid down here. What's going on, fellas?"

"I want to borrow your wingman!"

"Come again?"

"The entire Venom air guard is being deployed to Sauria and its moon, but they're in troop ships, not fighters. So, Corneria is having me lead an attack on Venom to end their military for good. We're finally going to liberate the people, set up a government for them, and help them farm ... all that crap! But all their fighters are still over Venom, even though there aren't very many pilots. So, I need Falco. We'll pay him, and I'll make sure Corneria pays you a fee for letting us have him during the campaign."

Fox rubbed his chin. "One sec." He turned to Krystal and in a softer voice, said, "This could be Corneria's chance to bring Venom to the table as allies, and end this war once and for all."

Krystal's voice was somewhere in the background, behind McCloud. "Fox, if Venom's defenses are _here, how will we survive_?"

Fox chuckled to her. "Slippy, ROB64, you, and me. We've got this. They can fight an army, but Venom pilots can't fight guerilla warfare fighters."

Bill added, "And so we're clear, Fox, all those pilots deploying from the dropships will be holding pistols."

Fox laughed and turned back to the camera, facing it directly. "Falco, I want you to go with Bill. Keep him alive. He was one of my closest friends in the academy. Well, you already know that. Just the same, work your magic and keep him alive."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll go."

Fox frowned. "I'm serious, Falco. Go win the war Star Fox started when Pigma and Andross made my father the first official casualty."

Bill grimaced. "Okay, that got real dark ... real fast."

Fox shrugged with his paws out to the sides. "I'd do it, but I'm trying to stop the dictator. We'll end this thing with Venom on both fronts at the same time."

Falco sighed. "Look, okay ... Bill, we're going to need numbers to handle Venom's automated air defenses while working one over on the remaining pilots, because Oikonny will have his best in cockpits to protect his home."

Bill asked, "Yeah, you have a plan or something?"

"Yeah. Katt Monroe. She's annoying, but she's a good pilot, and her ship is ... difficult to destroy. Homebrew make. She's got herself a ship built on first-gen Wolfen technology, meaning it's immune to Nova bombs and charged plasma lock. It'll come in handy."

"You want us to hire a second mercenary?" asked Bill.

Falco sighed in annoyance. "I hate to admit it, but she'll make our jobs easier. I'll make the call."

Bill rubbed his chin, then he nodded firmly. "All right. Do it, Falco. Meet me over Venom."

Fox added, "Falco, I want you to jettison some chaff and one fuel cell, then ignite it with a well-timed boost. You know the maneuver I'm talking about. Afterwards, you high-tail it out like you're damaged and rushing away."

"Fine, but what about our new carrier?"

"Did you see any bombers in Andrew's group?"

Falco pulled up his sensor history, and flicked a feathery finger over the screen, scrolling through all the fighters logged in the area. "Nah, no bombers."

"I'm going to call ROB and have him bring it to the lunar surface. I'll use it as a base of operations for when the soldiers attack in waves. If any bombers show up, I'll have it moved to the big hanger bay we had to blast our way into when we first arrived. By now, Slippy's integrated our systems enough that Rob would be able to open the hanger by remote."

"Yeah, fine. Cool. Stay safe, Foxie."

"Go liberate Venom, Falco."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't die. I need the paycheck, McCloud."

"Uh-huh. See you soon. Bill, watch his six, brother."

"Stay alive, Fox," said Bill. "Beers are on me when we get back."

Fox ended the call on his end with a wry smile.

Falco chuckled and waved to Bill. "I'll meet up with your attack group. Send me coordinates. I'll need to refuel by the time I get over Venom. I'll have Katt meet us there. See you soon."

"Stay safe, and see you soon, Falco. I'm sending you coordinates now. You can show me that fancy new Arwing II I've heard so much about." Bill ended his transmission with Falco.

Afterward, Bill called Peppy Hare and John Pepper, to set up a payment for Falco and Katt Monroe.

X

X

Down on the Miraculin surface...

Krystal looked up at Fox, above her, and broke the lip-lock. She dropped her head back, onto the floor tiles, just like the previous morning, and exhaled softly with a shudder of sensation.

She could feel the warmth of his seed, deep within. She panted softly in an attempt to catch her breath.

"Left you breathless, huh?"

"Just a bit," she replied in a husky voice. "Do you think it's true?"

"What?"

"What Marcus said...?"

"The computer?"

"Yes, Fox. I can see no reason he would have to lie. But that means everything that has happened between us these last few days ... well, it's a product of heightened hormones, nothing else."

Fox cupped either side of her face in his palms. "No, Krystal. It's us. This is real."

"But I'm in heat like some sort of ... animal. We tarry about because we are addicted, here. Rogering our way through the days and nights, as many times as ya like, ta, very much then, please, sir, may I have some more? Then we clean up, and go on about our day, perfectly polite as ya like."

"You talk different when you get frustrated, here."

"Yeah, it's been getting worse. I even have my old accent back. You have never done anything unprofessional on a mission, yet here we are again. Seems like every few minutes."

"Krystal, shh. Listen. Okay, so what? So we got a little hormonal-helping-hand in how we're expressing our feelings, but they're our feelings. And even though they're augmented, or whatever the expression is, the fact remains that I've been trying to figure out how to uncork the feelings that I've been bottling for you ... for, well, a long time. I've loved you for ... it feels like forever, now. That was before we came here. That was before we had sex. Repeatedly."

Krystal smiled at his words, until the last word of his statement. She offered him a lame grin, followed by rolling her eyes. "Oh, jeeze."

"That's my line. Well, it's Falco's line, but we both say it."

"And, yet, it's entirely appropriate, here. Jeeeeeze. Yes, repeatedly. Several times a day at this rate. And, Fox, I've enjoyed it thoroughly. I just need to know that, whether or not I become pregnant, and whether or not we take down Andrew on this mission, I want to be a team. I'm not talking about Star Fox. I'm talking about us. A partnership. I'm talking about two mates working together to have one another's backs."

"Who better to have my back than a telepath?"

Krystal's smile brightened. "That's what I wanted to hear, Fox. Thank you." She lifted her head and brushed her lips against his.

Fox swirled his tongue around her own, dancing and dueling in a playful way. After a moment, he broke the kiss and lifted his head. "I guess we should start prepping before Andrew's reinforcements show up."

"I suppose that would be wise," she agreed.

Fox eased from her, dismounting slow and steady, then he rolled onto his hip, adjacent to her.

Krystal felt every inch slowly being withdrawn, until his body weight moved away. She shivered with a very small and unexpected release. The tiny orgasm made her breath catch. She quickly reached for her nearby gear, rifled through it for a bottle of water, and guzzled it down.

"Dehydrated?" asked Fox.

"Mm-hmm," she said against the mouth of the water bottle. She continued to drink until it was gone. "I just realized I was thirsty, so, yeah." She capped the bottle and sat up, then she quickly rolled onto her side with a grimace.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing, honey."

Fox replied with a dubious expression. "I'm not telepathic, you are. C'mon, you promised to share everything."

She chuckled with a semi-embarrassed grin. "Shifting my weight when I sat up..."

"Yeah?"

"It caused me to, um ... it's running down my inner thighs, now. You've made quite a mess of my pelt."

Fox cleared his throat. "Oh, uh ... do you need a towel?"

Krystal remained on her side, but she could feel the wetness beneath the base of her tail and saturating the fur of her upper inner thighs. "I like having it there, but if I stand up, it's going to be on the floor. And if I sleep, it will feel like glue in the morning. How can you be so pent up when we've just had sex a couple of times leading up to this?"

Fox shrugged gingerly. "Supply and demand? It's been in demand lately, so ... there's a big supply, I guess?"

"Actually, that sounds reasonable." She brought her paws up to cup her swollen breasts, where her nipples were puckered. "I wish they'd go down, now. They're getting really sensitive. I, um ... probably need to find a place to freshen up."

"I've gotta pee," Fox said, followed by a soft gasp. "Sorry. That was something I'd have said around Falco. I'm..."

"Fox, I'm telepathic. I already knew when you had thoughts like that in the past. It was cute that you tried to be a gentleman around me, but ... you can be yourself without worry, now. I've never judged you then, and I certainly do not judge you now."

Fox exhaled in a sigh of relief. "All right, well, uh, I've gotta find somewhere to go pee. And we need to find a stream, or something, so you can wash up." He reached for his computerized gauntlet and switched on the display. "Whoa..."

Krystal perked. "A lot of notifications?"

"Yeah," said Fox with a frown. "A lot. Slippy has been texting me because I missed his last holo-call. Uh, well, he says, uh, that ... dammit."

"Andrew's forces are already on the ground?"

"Yes, and he's lying low."

Krystal frowned. "Doesn't Slippy have a girl with him? Amanda?"

"She's on Aquas or Zoness or something, waiting for him to show up in person. They're doing some sort of virtual holographic hangout thing. She sent a drone to the planet, with a solid-light emitter built into a small drone. The emitter shows her in the room with him, and vice-versa, but she's not physically here with him ... not in person. She's not in any danger."

Krystal smiled softly. "A holographic emitting drone? That sounds posh. I'm glad to hear she's safe."

Fox cleared his throat and rubbed his paw against the nape of his neck. "And, uh ... I'm glad you remembered her name - I forgot to be honest." Fox took a moment to finish reading the texts. "Dammit. He had to take the Landmaster and abandon the command center, and he's back on the Great Fox carrier, which he's hidden in a thick jungle area. Seems that he used some of the included machines that came with the carrier to cut down some trees ... enough to make cover for the new carrier, so that it can't be seen from above."

"Smart," said Krystal. "And that had to take a lot of work."

"ROB and Slippy can do a lot when they work together."

"Apparently so. How did he cut down so many trees so quickly?"

Fox shrugged. "I assume he used some sort of high-output force weapon to blast down a few rows at a time, then he gathered them up and laid them out on the top of the ship. So much for the brand-new paint job, huh?"

"No worries. That's what Falco is for."

Fox replied with an amused smile. "Funny."

"I know. So, uh, text him back and let him know that we were lying low with the notification sound turned down, so as not to attract attention."

Fox chuckled. "Yeah, that's a good way to word it. One sec." He typed on the screen with his right paw while holding the gauntlet in his left. After a moment, he sent the message and waited in silence.

It didn't take long for Slippy to reply.

Fox read it out loud to Krystal. "He says, 'Thank goodness! I know you were supposed to rest, so I figured you were asleep. I hope you got all the shuteye you needed, because the Miraculin surface is overrun, and apparently now Sauria is overrun, too. We're going to have to rescue Tricky and his people from the hundred-or-so soldiers that Andrew diverted to Sauria.'"

Krystal pursed her lips together. All thoughts of earlier were put to the side, and she ground her molars together. "I will find Andrew and make him cry for his uncle if he harms Tricky or any of the Lightfoot or Cloudrunner tribes. If his people hurt any of the dinosaurs on that world. I swear."

Fox picked up her clothes and a sweat towel. He handed the pile to her and stood up. He put his paws over his head, leaned back, and stretched until his lower back popped. He sighed softly, dropped his arms, and picked up his own gear. "Okay. Let's get ready and coordinate with Slippy. I need to decide if it would be smarter to head back to the new carrier or if it would be better to coordinate with the computer to determine a way to end this quickly. If Andrew is in the area ... that would be a priority."

Krystal nodded in agreement. "Marcus!"

Fox tensed up.

"Sorry, a bit loud, I know."

"He said he wasn't going to listen in, hon."

As if to mock Fox's last statement, Marcus replied from speakers unseen and unknown somewhere in the room. "Krystal, good evening. I hope your slumber was restful. How can I help you?"

Krystal afforded Fox with a smirk, but spoke to Marcus. "Do you know Andrew Oikonny's whereabouts?"

"Not precisely. He's using unknown technology to shield his location. However, based on the troop movements of his soldiers, I can extrapolate enough data to make a mathematical assumption that will be of high probability."

"An educated guess," Fox said with a chuckle while buttoning his pants.

"Yes. Using the available variables to..."

"I got it," said Fox. "Our brains work the same way. We guess a lot."

"Understood. There are no large hunting groups in your immediate area, just a few scouts. Shall I attempt to write a Bluetooth Stack protocol based on Slippy Toad's technology, in order to pair with your gauntlet? It would be a more effective way to transfer input from sensors around the lunar surface to you."

Fox's eyes widened. "You can do that? You can use what you learned when pairing with Slippy's gear to try and pair to my arm computer?"

"I can, yes. Do you have a way to make its Bluetooth discoverable and pairable?"

"Yeah. Let me just jump into the settings panel and ... hey, out of curiosity, how do you know it's called Bluetooth?"

"Because it is what Slippy called the technology. Just one of many ways Cornerians have created to communicate between two devices."

Fox cleared his throat. "Okay, get ready..." he manipulated the screen with a fingertip. After another moment, he added, "And ... now."

"I see the signal. I also see that it has an internet protocol connection, as Slippy called it. I'll use my new Bluetooth connectivity to set up your gauntlet to make use of the Krazoan intranet network, which is still broadcast across this world and Sauria. Stand by ... and ... task complete. Hm, fascinating. Your gauntlet's coding is very easy to understand."

"Because it's so antiquated compared to you?"

"No, Fox," said Marcus in a blunt tone. "Because whoever designed this protocol was intelligent. I see it has something called firewalls to keep unwanted persons from hacking it, but they're not effective against me, because I set up your device by first going through the Bluetooth stacks. My study of this technology is..."

"I get it, it's like Krazoa was a zillion years ago, right?"

"Actually, no, Fox. I am impressed. Corneria has come a long way from the simplistic tribal nations and the nation that invented gun powder. My makers were wise to spare your worlds by abandoning their Saurian multi-ark project. It led to their deaths, but it only took two thousand years for your species to step up to nearly the same level of technology as enjoyed by the Krazoa. They saw something in your kind. Something worth preserving."

Fox finished getting dressed and said, "All right, well, I'm glad we've earned your respect."

"As a sentient mind, Fox, I admit that ... I have very little practice with social skills. And I haven't had much practice with learning what it feels like to respect someone. But, yes, the two of you went from being a fascination to becoming a respected couple. And, for the record, I curiously find myself to feel ... pleased ... by your relationship. I hope that is not out of line."

Krystal laughed. She pulled her panties up her legs and lifted her tail to keep it out of the way of the fabric. "That's what Cornerians call 'shipping.' They like to 'ship' couples. They imagine the two people in a relationship because it makes them happy to do so. If the shipping works out, and the two become engaged in a romance, then those who shipped that couple feel vindicated and delighted."

"I see! Fascinating. Your race wants to see couples succeed? That is nothing at all like the report about your race from two thousand years ago. At the time, your race was considered only slightly above barbarism. They were said to be easily consumed by jealousy and the motivations of people rarely exceeded wealth or possession of females."

Fox chuckled. "Some Cornerians still fit that description."

"Oh. I see. What a disappointment. But at least I can see, for myself, that there are Cornerians who are happy to see happiness in others."

Fox opened his mouth, but Krystal stopped him. She whispered into his ear, "Shh. You don't have to explain that you were born on Papetoon. It's not necessary right now."

Fox nodded. Instead, he said, "Where are the nearest enemies, Mark?"

"They are closing on your position but are unaware of the existence of the tunnel system or how to access it. But they are growing close. I am writing an interface for your portable computer to better interface with it. Then, I will have the location of Andrew Oikonny's forces made available to you."

"How long before it's ready?"

"Not long," said Marcus. "Four to six minutes. It depends on how long your computer can process the code I'm writing. However, you may wish to charge your device soon. This application will be very reliable and have pinpoint accuracy. That is the phrasing, yes? Regardless, it will use battery power a bit more rapidly. I estimate that you currently have two more days of power, but with this program I am installing, you will only have ten hours of battery power left."

"I'll charge on the carrier ship. What about my fighter? Is it safe?"

"I see from Mr. Toad's text communication logs that he failed to mention ... he used an auto-take-off command to recall the ship so that Venom would not take possession of it. It is on the flight deck of your carrier."

"That's good, but it also sucks. How far is the carrier from our position?"

"Stand by, recomputing for Cornerian miles..." A pause, then, "I do not wish to overwhelm you with a large number. You are a six hour walk away from your ship."

"All right. That will work for me. So, if I travel at about six miles in an hour, the carrier is about thirty-to-thirty-six miles away."

"Yes," said Marcus. "Thirty-three and a third of a mile, exactly." As an afterthought, he added, "The scout patrol is two soldiers. They are less than one mile away and closing. They are traveling at a very slow walk. It would appear they are being methodical in their search."

Fox scoffed. "Let them. We'll get the drop on them. Is there anything else I should be made aware of?"

"Yes. The most direct route to your ship will require the two of you to cross through the old ruins. Archaic ruins that the Krazoa were studying to learn more about their ancestors. It will be quite dangerous."

Krystal frowned. "Are you going to be able to lead us through it?"

"That is part of the reason I am rewriting some of the core coding on Fox's portable computer, Krystal. So that I can communicate with you from the speaker built into the unit. I will be with you every step of the way. If, of course, you will have me. But you'll have to take the most direct way if you wish to make it to your ship before the battery on Fox's computer runs down. There will be approximately four hours of additional time."

"We're ready when you are," said Fox.

Marcus grew quiet for about thirty seconds, then he said, "I've finished. One second." His voice changed to Fox's gauntlet. He said, "This is a test."

"Sounds good," said Fox.

"Excellent. I can hear you quite well. Better than I could on the audio system built into the Krazoa complex. Fascinating. The architecture of the processor is nothing like my own, but they are surprisingly similar to computers used by the Krazoa in their workstations."

"Slippy will love to learn more about it," said Fox, adding, "Okay, display the enemies on my screen. I'm ready to get started."

"Displaying ... now."

Fox looked down at the screen built into his gauntlet. A scope, a map overlay, and approximate information showed up, including the heart rates of each lizard in the area. They appeared calm but vigilant.

Krystal moved closer. "That sounds posh."

"Very," Fox agreed. "Great display, Mark. I can see their approximate cone of vision, which helps me figure out what way they're facing. I can see if they feel calm or alerted. This works great."

"I did a good job?"

Fox chuckled. "Yeah, Mark. You did a great job."

"Thank you. I like hearing that. It's been a long time since I've experienced a compliment. It's part of the reason I went into torpor mode."

Krystal felt her heart melt inside just a bit. "You poor dear. If we stop Andrew's lot, it will be because of your help, Marcus. I believe in you, and I appreciate that you seem to also believe in us."

"We make a good team," said Marcus. "I'm going to stand by for now, so I don't drain Fox's portable computer faster than ten hours."

Fox wanted to say something snarky like, 'Good idea,' but he caught sight of Krystal shaking her head. Instead, he said, "I appreciate the consideration. See you soon."

"Stay safe," Marcus replied. The computer grew quiet.

Fox and Krystal exchanged glances.

She reached for his paw and gave it a gentle squeeze. "That was lovely, thank you."

"Good looking out."

"For you? Always." She offered him a smile.

Fox lifted his left forearm and glanced at the display on his gauntlet. "Okay. So far so good. The map seems to show that the third door from the generator room leads to a way out."

"What was in the far door, opposite of the power room?"

"Another lavatory. You gotta pee?"

"I ... could go if we have a moment."

"Best to do it now before going out on the battlefield. I'll join ya."

Krystal made her way out of the room of bunks, turned in the direction away from the power generator room, and passed the next door. She came to the last door, opened it, and walked into a small hallway with a computer console built into the wall. The next door opened up, leading to a bathroom with stalls and high sitting-style toilets, not terribly different than what Krystal had seen on Corneria.

Fox opened one of the stalls that still had a door and grimaced. He stepped back and shut the stall door, then gestured for her to use one of the ones without a door. "Go on, ladies first."

"What did you see in there, Fox? Oh. ...Oh." She cringed at the mental image. "Strange how the skeleton comes apart after so long. It's never just a fully attached skeleton like in the cinemas."

Fox shook his head. "Yeah, no. Like, what holds skeletons together in the movies, or in video games, or TV shows?"

"I don't know but ... what I saw from you is blurry, as though you closed your eyes right away."

"I didn't close my eyes right away. I saw it."

"Oh, come off it. Wait, you're serious? You did?"

Fox nodded. "Should I describe what I saw? Trust me, I saw it."

"Would you? For me? I'm sorry to ask you to do something so macabre, but it doesn't make sense that I saw something so blurry from you."

Fox shrugged. "Well, uh, all right, I guess. Uh, the pelvis was on the toilet, the thigh bones had fallen in, the shinbones and feet were on the tile floor in front of the toilet. Uh, some of the rib cage was propped up against the back of the toilet, but some of the lower ribs had come away from the spine. The vertebrae that fused together rested against the hips, propped, but a good part of vertebrae bits fell into the toilet or onto the floor. The skull was on the back of the toilet tank. One arm was across its lap, which, again, had fallen into the toilet. The other arm was laying on the floor with finger bones strewn about the ground like someone dropped a bag of small candies everywhere."

Krystal exhaled. "That's ... what I saw from you. Sometimes it is difficult to have a clear read from another when I'm cloudy with powerful emotions. I assume it's due to the hormone spike."

"Yeah. Hormones can make it difficult to concentrate on your own thoughts, let alone those of another, I take it."

"Quite so, love."

"I mean, I know my kind get easily distracted when we are horny."

"Horny... I haven't really thought to put it quite so succinct, but it was rather accurate. I have seen the dead, of course, especially working together. Aparoids, soldiers, and I know I haven't seen my last dead body, but I have never seen what they look like when they lay where they die after a very long time. I hate to think that eventually those bodies become ... what you just saw."

"Yeah, well, that's not all I saw." Fox held his paw outward, gesturing for her to use the doorless bathroom stall. "If you're not comfortable going, here, then we'll find somewhere else."

Krystal climbed up onto the somewhat tall toilet, feet over either side of the seated section over the bowl. It didn't take long to remove her pants and urinate. She reached for a rear pocket on her work clothes, withdrew a pack of wet-wipes, which she had been using in the humid areas of the moon. She wiped and then she dropped it into the empty toilet bowl. "I wonder..."

"Wonder what?" asked Fox.

"If they used water like on Papetoon toilets, or if they're waterless like on Corneria...?"

"Good question."

"Fox?"

"Yeah?"

"You said you saw more than the remains of the Krazoan in the adjacent stall. He ended his life, didn't he?"

"He or she, yeah." Fox frowned and turned to face her. He reached a paw up, and helped her down from the high toilet.

Krystal offered him a smile of appreciation, pulled up her pants, and adjusted the fastenings of her clothing. "How?"

"Clean single shot to the side of the head. His palm was with the blaster handle. So, that answers that question - they did have energy weapons for self-defense or law enforcement needs."

"Do you..." She licked her lips with a frown, then, in a lower tone of respect, she asked, "Do you suppose that the weapon still works or ... holds a charge?"

"Dunno," Fox replied in a soft voice of his own. "Should I grab it?"

"Just ... check. They were quite advanced. It's possible that this weapon could come in handy against our enemies. It's just a few of us against several hundred."

Fox sighed in agreement. "Yeah..." He returned to the adjacent stall, opened the door, and approached the blaster weapon on the tile floor. "In a war of attrition, we need everything we can get. But ... I would be lying if I said I felt comfortable using a weapon that was cursed with a suicide."

"You feel it's ... haunted?"

"Not exactly haunted," said Fox. "I can't quite describe it. Maybe ... unlucky? Superstitions have kept soldiers alive on the battlefield for ... well, since the beginning of time. It's just unnatural to fight with a weapon that was used in a suicide, unless it was the suicide of your enemies. Even then, it's still a little weird."

"I understand." She approached Fox from behind and peered around him, committing the sight of the dead Krazoan's skeleton to memory. "At a glance, it doesn't appear to be too terribly different than our own."

"Yeah, I guess. The same basic anatomy, sans tail and skull design. Their ears are lower, and their jaw and mandibles are designed differently, but ... the basics are the same. I can't tell if it's male or female without knowing how the hips should be designed on other Krazoans."

"Female," said Krystal. "Look at the decorative jewelry. Too bad the clothing has rotted away to dust. Probably blown away, and sucked through slats in the air vents when Miracle lost its atmosphere for a time."

"God knows," Fox replied with a shake of his head. His eyes cut to a finger bone within a ring band. The shank of the ring was nearly large enough to be a bangle or bracelet for a Cornerian. Almost. But not quite. He also noticed a corroded necklace draped over the ribs on the back of the toilet, and what appeared to be bracelets on the body's forearms. Fox frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"We're assuming that their culture was like ours enough-so that women could be recognized by jewelry. But in their culture, men could have..." he trailed off with a frown, shook his head, and lifted his left forearm. "Hey, Mark?"

"I am here," said the computer over the gauntlet speaker.

"Scan the remains of this Krazoan and attempt to identify them."

"As you wish. Stand by."

Silence.

A moment later, Marcus said, "I have identified her by the registration of her personal weapon - a rare possession for any Krazoan. Her name was placed into classified status when she was assigned to this location. She had a very high status as a scientist and the weapon was a privilege of her high rank. I have accessed the database of registered use saved to the weapon. It has been used in ten execution-style deaths, all delivered to the skull at close range, not including her own. This was likely her science team. The Krazoa did not like to suffer. They extrapolated their spirits from their bodies using technology, then their body was destroyed, so that their consciousness would survive, but they would not experience their end."

Fox and Krystal exchanged horrified glances.

"Fox? Was my information helpful?"

"Yes. Krystal thought it might be a woman based on the jewelry."

"Jewelry was how the Krazoa displayed rank and status. Many men wore the same pieces."

Krystal frowned. "So, guessing she was female ... that was just a coincidence."

"Correct," said Marcus. I wish I could give you a name, but it was stricken from any database to which I have access, likely because it was marked as classified. What your kind calls 'Artificial Intelligence,' was not trusted yet by the Krazoa. The technology was still too new to give me full access to compartmentalized information. This was to ensure that the information stayed safe."

Fox put his paws on his hips. "Wait ... did the Krazoa not trust one another?"

"It was not a matter of trust. It was a matter of the two factions. Those who wanted to utilize the Saurian-Ark program, despite the potential of causing orbital destabilization to neighboring worlds around this system ... and, of course, those who were against it."

Fox rubbed his chin and continued to listen.

"The majority of the race decided to use one of Sauria's moons as an ark. They fled to the system Krystal called Kew. I have no way of knowing, for sure, if they made it there, but I assume so. The lunar body had to fracture in order to be pushed into motion. It would have become a generational ark ship. The remaining fraction fell to the planet's surface and wiped out most remaining life. That was an accident, but the pieces were caught in Sauria's gravity despite all efforts to avoid such."

Fox sighed. "Yeah. The dinosaurs, there, call it Moon Mountain Pass. I always felt like there wasn't enough material there to make up an entire moon. That explains why."

"Well, I am glad to have helped you. I wish I could be further assistance."

"Wait, maybe you can," said Krystal. "Did she have any religious or posthumous ritual? Burial? Cremation?"

"I am unfamiliar with the term 'cremation,' but the Krazoa did not believe in a metaphysical transition after death. They believed in returning to star dust, to be recycled by the universe. Many had their conscience injected into antimatter material capable of acting as a vessel for the spirit of the deceased. It holds memories, thought patterns, and similar parts of the living brain."

"The Krazoa spirits," said Fox. "I've interacted with them."

"Be warned, they can possess the living. They cannot take control of a body unless the spirit of that body has already been removed. But I do not know if it works the same way for the body of your species."

Fox shrugged. "I've voluntarily used my body as a vessel to transport Krazoa spirits in the past."

"I ... see."

Krystal chuckled. "Does that unnerve you?"

Marcus said, "It is an awkward sensation I am feeling. I do not fully understand it. Unnerved ... that feels ... accurate."

"All right," said Fox. "What happened to her spirit?" He gestured to the stall door.

"Unknown. But I assume she chose to sacrifice immortality as an incorporeal being. Many did not like the concept of having little control over their spirit for an eternity. I can tell you that the body does not function without its spirit consciousness. For her to end her own life would require her spirit to be attached to her body at the time of the act. Therefore, she has expired along with her physical body."

"How sad," said Krystal.

Fox sighed softly. "All right, Mark. I don't wanna run down my gauntlet's battery."

"Understood. Take care, both of you." And just like that, there was silence.

Krystal afforded Fox a slight smile. "He's helpful."

Fox shook his head with a frown. He actively thought the words, 'I don't know why, but I do not yet trust the computer.'

She nodded in understanding. "Very well."

Fox went back to the stall without a door, climbed up onto the toilet, unzipped his fly, made it quick, and hopped back down with a grunt. "How did your people pee? Toilets like this?"

Krystal shook her head. "Natural position squatting. Toilets were for the elderly, dying, or the disabled. Those who could not squat."

"Oh." Fox came back to the stall with the door, picked up the energy weapon, brushed the palm away from the handle, stole one last glance at the skeleton, and placed his free paw on the small of her back. He guided her away, out of the restroom. "First skeleton I have seen. But there is no mold. There should be mold all over this area. It's weirdly clean."

Krystal sighed softly. "What a horrible way to go, though. Transferring the consciousness out of the bodies of your colleagues, then ending yourself completely, because no one was left to grant you the same honor in death."

Fox shook his head and glanced away. "Yeah. But why not transfer her consciousness out, and leave her body to rot? Or set a bomb on a timer. Something, you know?"

"Or ask the A.I. to do the deed," said Krystal.

"Exactly. There's something missing. Something we're not understanding."

Krystal licked her lips and cleared her throat softly. "What if you're not allowed to become spirit form if you've taken lives?"

Fox cringed at the thought. "Then her mercy cost her dearly. If she wasn't..." Fox trailed off for a moment. "Y'know, it occurs to me that she probably didn't want that. Like the computer said, some Krazoans were against it. Else she could have rigged the place to explode, and moved everyone's spirit over to antimatter, together, as a group. Then their bodies would have expired together. Easy loophole, you know?"

"Very true. You're getting to be quite the investigator."

"I'm not even sure why a skeleton is bothering me so much."

"Because, Fox. The hormone levels. Pheromones affect more than our sex drive. They also affect our frame of mine, our ability to empathize, our compassion, our passion, and our general feelings of motivation."

"Fair point," said Fox. "Well, let's take this tunnel out of here. C'mon." He looked at the map on his gauntlet display, led her to the next door over in the hub, and through an exit tunnel. It was long, poorly lit due to a lack of bulbs that were still viable, and despite the high ceiling, it still felt oddly claustrophobic.

Krystal followed her fiancé through the dim tunnel. It was only about fifteen hundred feet long. It concluded at a ladder, which led up to a latched hatch.

Fox unbolted the latches, put his shoulders against the metal hatch, and pushed hard against the ladder rung.

The rung bent, but the hatch finally gave way.

Once he managed to dislodge it from its doorframe, he realized it wasn't very heavy. Roughly about half the weight of a typical Cornerian manhole cover.

He stood up and peered through the foliage and overgrowth around the hatch door.

Krystal perked. She sensed that he could see the lizards. She looked up the ladder at Fox and watched how he handled the situation.

Fox eased the hatch lid off to the side, in some high grass, and slowly climbed up, moving immediately into a crouch.

Krystal hurried up the ladder and peered outside.

The palm trees appeared to be only a few years old, the grass was elbow height, and the bushes and undergrowth was only as bad as one might expect from the front yard of a recently abandoned house.

She followed Fox's trail, where the grass had been forced down a little. She peered up through the swaying grass and saw the lizards up ahead, facing away from Fox.

She watched as Fox moved up close, behind them, holstered his blaster, and lowered a bit more, as if preparing to pounce.

Fox, about a sports-field of length away from her, crept up behind the lizards. He got down low enough that he was out of Krystal's line of sight, then he leapt high into the air, and bounced upon the left lizard's head.

He landed on the nape of the lizard's neck, snapping it with his feet. He picked the lizard up into his arms, and then used their body to absorb the first two blaster shots of the lizard on the right.

Fox took the dead lizard by the belt and shirt collar, lifted him up, and threw his body into the adjacent lizard, bowling down the second one.

Fox put his left foot on the rump of the dead lizard and leveraged his body so that he could use his right foot to stomp on the skull of the remaining lizard.

Krystal could see the reptile's eyes bulge. Seconds later, blood poured from the man's nasal passages, eyes, and ears.

Fox stumbled forward, put his arms out, and dropped into a quick roll to get away from the dead bodies, then he crouched into the grass again and surveyed the area. He checked his gauntlet, then scanned the area once more. He tilted his head, using his ears to listen.

Silence.

Fox stood up, went back to the two dead lizards, and rolled them off one another, so that their bodies were side-by-side. He frisked them and removed food rations and weapons.

Krystal watched him investigate each weapon.

He set the energy weapons down on their users' chests, withdrew his blaster, and destroyed the Venomian weapons with two quick gunshots.

The energy discharge of his weapon super-heated the air, creating a small crack of thunder. He placed his blaster back into his holster, stowed the stolen gear into his various pockets, and came back toward the hatch.

Krystal stood up and approached him. "That was much different than how you fought the Aparoids."

"Yeah. Blasters, like lightning, cause a boom. I had to work in silence until I knew, for sure, that they were alone."

"It was ... very personal."

Fox frowned with a nod. "Yeah. It's different than being in a cockpit, that's for sure. But this line of work is dangerous. You can't hesitate when it comes time to kill. A weapon is nice, but relying on one will get you killed. If you ever have to take a life with your own paws, you need to know what you're doing. Especially you."

"Why 'especially' me?"

"Because, Krystal, you don't have the weight or height advantage against a lizard or the average male in general. You have to know how to beat someone who has six inches and fifty pounds on you. You have to know how to kick out their knees, you have to know how to hit them in the throat, and you have to know how to attack their eyes."

"What about kicking them in the crotch?"

"It works in a pinch, but claws to the eyes is ten times more effective. Doesn't matter if you're fighting a man or a woman, the eyes ... works every time. You also need to know how to dislocate a shoulder, shatter an elbow, break a rib or two, and how to break a neck quickly. It takes a lot of strength to break a neck cleanly, unless you can leverage yourself for greater power."

"You mean the way you pounced on the one?"

"Yeah. Then I knocked the other down with the body of the first. I had to stomp on his throat. It's a terrible way to die, and I hope you never have to do it, but you need to know how."

"Fox..."

"I'm serious, Krystal. You are the last of your race. You need to know how to survive against all odds, else your race ends with you."

Krystal swallowed. "You ... make a good point. But I would rather become the mother of my race, not the harbinger of death."

"If you know how to kill someone that has a height and weight advantage, Krystal, then you will be able to protect a baby. You can't be the mother of your race if someone kills you and your baby. You have to learn how to do this so that your children and grandchildren won't have to."

Krystal bit her lower lip. After a moment to internalize it, she whispered, "I understand."

"I'll teach you the basics. Not how to kill, but how to defend yourself. Killing is something you have to come to terms with on the field of battle. You shot Aparoids just fine. You are good at it, but this? What I did? It's different. You'll know if and when you're ready to learn."

"I appreciate your willingness to teach me. I know it will be something you don't want to do, but I can sense that you're willing to do it to keep me alive. Thank you, Fox."

"Thank me when we're both married and celebrating our fiftieth anniversary ... maybe while we're watching our grand kids play or ... something like that."

Krystal smiled at the way he described the future. "Even after killing people with your bare paws, you are still able to look at your days ahead with such normalcy and..." Her smile brightened. "It's just ... such a healthy outlook."

"It's how I compartmentalize things. It keeps me sane."

"I can appreciate that. All right, Fox. Which way?"

Fox glanced at his gauntlet. He pinch-zoomed the screen, then pointed toward trees. "That way. You ready?"

Krystal replied with a firm nod. She withdrew her staff, extended it, and put the rear end on the ground like a walking stick. "I am."

"Let's move."

Krystal fell into step with him. "Why did you destroy their weapons?"

"Because they were designed with trackers and bio-scanners, which takes their pulse through the handles. They are bio-locked so that you or I would not be able to use them. They were useless. So, I destroyed them. It's a shame, too, because they were nice guns. And they had plenty of ammo. Ah well."

Krystal frowned. "That is a shame."

"Yup. Guess so," said Fox with a slight shrug. "Okay, we have a lot of ground to cover, but not a lot of time."

"I do not sense anyone else in the area," she replied.

"Okay good. Uh ... question..."

"Yes?"

Fox cleared his throat. "Were you able to sense their minds while they were dying?"

Krystal nodded. "Yes."

Fox cringed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Both were heavily indoctrinated. They died for their cause and had no regrets."

"Yeah, but can you feel their deaths?"

Krystal frowned with a slow nod. "I can."

"God, that's ... I'm sorry."

"Come off it, love. They did not suffer very long, thanks to your mercy. There was confusion and moment of fear. Then their oxygen-deprived minds slid away into a peaceful state. They always seem to try and make sense of it by praying for the safety of their loved ones, apologizing for wrongs they've made in their lives, and asking for some sort of forgiveness from an unknown deity. Then? Nothing. Like falling asleep but their life is a volume knob being turned down, until there are no thoughts coming from them."

Fox looked away, ashamed. "I made you experience that twice."

"I experienced it prior to the Aparoid invasion, when dispatching Oikonny's forces. I have learned how to 'tune it out,' so to speak."

"All right. Well ... I just didn't know it was so involved."

"Fox, you don't have to apologize." She reached a paw out and gently ran her fingers through his head-fur. "My race has experienced the deaths of our own kind, whether from an injury like a high fall, or from old age. We're familiar with the link we share from the dying. It's a part of life. Your race ritualizes it because all you have is your imagination - you wonder what it's like to feel someone else die, and you fear what you have never experienced. But it does not bother me."

"Are you sure?"

"Again, it's a part of life. I assure you that it does not cause emotional stress. I will not require therapy. I simply have never caused such an event, so I can only hope that I will handle my first personal kill, as a mercenary, with the same grace as you display."

Fox nodded, but deep down, the idea of teaching her how to kill in such a personal and effective way ... it bothered him. A lot.

"Fox..."

He held a paw up. "It's just something I have to wrap my head around. Let's keep moving."

"We are. We're walking quickly. We're making good time."

Fox withdrew the Krazoan blaster and looked it over as they walked, together, in silence. After a moment, he whispered, "I wonder how to turn it on. I hope it doesn't require a Krazoan to activate it."

"Marcus would have mentioned it if he knew that we couldn't turn it on."

"Yeah." He nodded in agreement. "You're probably right about that."

Krystal forced a smile.

Fox looked back down at the weapon, turning it over in his paws, and studying its design.

Her smile faded. She didn't know what to say to his silence and the awkward feelings he was experiencing. So, she decided to stay quiet for now.

X

X

_ _

Somewhere on the surface of Miracle...

Amanda's solid-light hologram manipulated the capacitive touch screen keyboard on the Krazoan workstation. There was a thin transparent film over the glass, so that her hologram could operate it with touch.

Slippy crossed the Star Fox carrier's bridge, to where the Krazoan computer had been installed against the far wall. "How's it coming?"

"I'm extrapolating the code, and transitioning it to Cornerian-compatible code, although I'm a bit annoyed about the notarization requirement for codesigning. It's a slow process, maybe because of the connection speed."

Slippy chuckled. "I once tried to see if I could explain codesigning to Falco, but I quickly learned he couldn't grasp it. At the time, I was nineteen, and I thought I could teach anyone anything if they took more than five minutes to try and learn it."

"What part was he struggling with?"

Slippy shrugged his shoulders. "What part wasn't he struggling with? He couldn't understand checksums, the concept of a cryptographic hash ... I don't even think he understands the difference between 32-bit, 64-bit, and 128-bit computing."

"Oh. One of those people ... how do you surround yourself with people who can't understand your passion, Slippy?"

"We got together for a common goal, and then we became a family. If you can't stand your brother, you just accept his flaws for what they are."

"That's ... that's actually really fair of you." She afforded him a smile, then she went back to typing. "I'm writing a program to finish the code conversions for me ... something to do the tedious parts for me."

Slippy pointed to ROB64. "What about asking him to help you?"

"Because he's doing five other things for me, plus monitoring the area for aggressors."

Slippy chuckled with an understanding nod. "Well, you go girl."

Amanda laughed. "Oh, I'm going. You better believe it! This has been a lot of fun! But I would prefer it if you'd let me come to you in person."

"Oh, Amanda, it's entirely too dangerous here, right now."

"I'll protect you," she replied in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, as much as I appreciate that, let me protect you for right now. That way I don't have to worry about losing the person who understands me better than anybody I've ever met."

"That's really sweet," she said. "Okay, I guess we'll have to meet in person after this. But at least I still get to spend time with you, in a sense."

Slippy nodded emphatically. He moved a bit closer and said, "You're starting to sweat a little around your forehead and below your eyes."

Amanda grinned back at him. "Because I'm wearing VR goggles on my face where I'm at. I've been wearing them for a few hours, now."

"Do you need a break?"

"I'm not going anywhere until we beat this code situation and Venom is defeated. I'm going to be right here, doing it alongside of you."

Slippy smiled. "You're awesome. Okay. I'm going to take a Landmaster out and draw a group of enemies away from the cloaked carrier. If they get too close, they'll pick up the energy signature and figure out where it's at. I'll be back, okay?"

"Please stay safe."

"I will," Slippy promised. "I'm going to ask Fox and Krystal if they need an extraction while I'm at it. I'd guesstimate thirty minutes to an hour. Once you finish your program, feel free to take off your VR headset so you can rest your eyes."

"See you soon, Guy Green." Amanda grinned.

Slippy grinned back.

---

X

X

Meanwhile, New Bolse Defense Station outer perimeter...

Peppy Hare approached the shuttle helm and dropped into the pilot's seat with a grunt and a huff. He stared at a small monitor that flashed, 'incoming message' in standard Cornerian text, and touched the screen.

A cheetah with a young face but mature eyes appeared on the monitor with John Pepper pacing in the background.

Peppy could tell John was wearing jeans and a business-casual button-up shirt. The top two buttons were unbuttoned beneath the collar, and the old hound's chest-fluff poured out, beneath his collarbone.

The cheetah feigned a weak smile. "Peppy Hare, long time no see. I am calling to inform you that you've been granted clearance to access the Bolse Defense jump gate, and the station commander is aware of your route change."

"Chester, it's been ages. You're looking awfully young for your age."

"Yeah, knock on wood, I don't have any grey in my muzzle yet."

"I'm serious. If you'd said you were Chester's son, I'd have believed you."

The cheetah shook his head. "Nope. Still the same old me. Have a stepdaughter, but she's only twelve. But I'm old enough to remember the original Bolse Defense Station, before that station became Sargasso."

"So ... the jump gate, huh? I thought that was expensive," said Peppy. "I mean, I appreciate coming home faster, but those things use up way more resources than the fuel cells in my shuttle."

"It's by the request of General Pepper."

"Chester, look ... wait, is that your first name or your last name? I've never bothered to ask."

"Peppy, if you don't know the answer to that by now, I'm certainly not going to tell you. Just come through the Jump Gate and get here, please."

"Is something wrong?"

John Pepper stopped pacing in the background. He approached the cheetah, who moved out of the old hound's way, and he sat down in the chair facing the communication gear, so that he was face-to-face with Peppy. "Acting General Pepper J. Hare, you are requested by your superior, General of the Space Fleet Johnathan Pepper, to report immediately to my office upon landing. That clear enough for you?"

"Well, it must be serious. No one calls me by my full first name."

John shook his head. "That's because, in front of others, it would become confusing. Your first name is the same as my last name. Now, get your cotton-tailed butt back to Corneria. My office needs a 'Pepper' in it, and it's going to be you. But first, alter course for Bolse, and hit that jump gate. Got it?"

Peppy chuckled and flipped off the 'autopilot' switch. "Who am I to refuse a direct order like that? Hey, out of curiosity, since this line is encrypted, is there any news on William Grey?"

"He should be approaching Venom shortly. I'm going to go and oversee that - it's my last official action as Fleet General."

"Silly question, but shouldn't your position be ... admiral?"

John shook his head with a sigh. "You're in an awfully strange mood today, Hare. Just get here, please. And, no ... to answer your question, 'admiral' is a maritime branch rank. The space fleet isn't a navy. It's an airspace military, just as space is air without an atmosphere. Just like the Air Force is led by a General, the Space Force, too, is led by a General. Oh, gee, wait ... both were combined decades ago, and are led by me." Pepper smirked. "Enough talk. Get here, Peppy. See you shortly."

Hare nodded firmly. "Well, you've just made it possible to surprise my wife. I'm coming home to her and settling down. Taking that desk job ... I talked about it with her. No more 'active General Hare.' I'll take the uniform and the desk."

"I know. I spoke to her."

"Oh." Peppy smirked. "So that's where you got the 'cottontail' line from ... you heard it from her."

"Yes, and she knows you're on your way. So, I'll see you when you arrive."

"Well, so much for surprising her."

John smirked. "See you in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks again. See you shortly. Peppy out."

"Bring it home, Hare. Don't waste any time. Pepper out."

Both reached forward and ended the transmission at the same time.

Silence.

Peppy chuckled with a shake of his head. He firmly took the flight yoke and turned his shuttle until the glint of New Bolse and its adjacent jump gate could be seen up ahead.

Peppy punched the throttle.

His communication monitor flashed again, with an incoming hail from Bolse. He touched the screen and saw a smart-dressed military man with rank insignia on his collar.

"Station Commander!" said Peppy. "This is Acting General Peppy Hare on approach..."

"Yes, sir!" the station commander saluted. He was, of all things, a marmoset, wearing an IDC uniform. "I have instructions, per Fleet General of the Interplanetary Defense Coalition, John Pepper, to grant you immediate access to the Bolse jump gate."

"I heard. I appreciate the use, Commander."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate you helping to end the Aparoid Invasion. I understand you're the first General, acting or otherwise, to lead a charge into battle on the front lines in over three centuries."

Peppy laughed, followed by clearing his throat. "I, uh, wasn't named with any sort of title until after I got back. It was supposed to be a suicide mission, where we saved Lylat and became statues or maybe some nice plaques."

The Commander smirked. "Instead, you survived, took over for John Pepper, restored the infrastructure in a single month, and you got several schools named after you. I hope to meet you in person one day, sir, so I can shake your paw."

Peppy felt humbled. "Several schools? Already? Well, all right. Count on it, Commander. I'm on my way."

"It's an honor, sir. Commander Reginald Harris - out."

Peppy rubbed his chin with his left paw. "Reginald Harris ... Reggie Harris. Commander Harris." Peppy repeated the name, committing it to memory.

His shuttle approached Bolse. The cube-shaped flying fortress was just as shiny and pristine looking as its predecessor was the day that Star Fox attacked it all those years ago, during the Lylat War.

Peppy chuckled at the shimmering white exterior, pleased to see the new station was in such immaculate condition. He steered his craft toward the jump gate, which spooled up, creating a wavering field at the center of the enormous round lens.

The field looked almost like liquid at the heart of space.

Peppy lined up his shuttle with the entrance of the gate, cut throttle, and opened a channel. "Bolse Defense, this is Acting General Peppy Hare. I'm ready to go to Corneria."

An audio-only channel came over the helm speakers. "Aye, sir. Have a safe flight, General. Bolse Defense - out."

Peppy pushed forward on the throttle bar. His shuttle picked up speed, hit the fluid-like field, and disappeared into it.

And then...

The front of the shuttle emerged from a glowing field over Corneria. The blue and white planet's oceans and clouds had a majestic saturated coloration that, to Peppy, felt unmatched by the other planets in Lylat.

He opened a channel, and announced, "This is Acting General Peppy Hare, waiting for instruction."

Another audio-only channel opened. "Acting General Hare! Colonel Chester, here. I'm going to guide your shuttle in on autopilot, sir, and I'll see you when you arrive."

"Is John still near by?"

"He is. Stand by."

A few seconds later, Pepper's face appeared on Peppy's comm screen. "You called? I have a mission to run - the Interplanetary Defense Coalition's move against Venom."

Peppy cleared his throat. "Sir, you made me an acting two star General when you were injured by the Aparoids. I worked my way up to a three-star acting General. I agreed to your desk job offer, and you said you wanted to train your replacement. Is that what this is about? You want me in the Command Center with you?"

"Actually, no, Peppy. This is my legacy. Yours was defeating the Aparoids, and yours will be defending Lylat and all IDC planets from future threats. But mine is to liberate Venom and make it a neutral-aligned planet. Yours will be to bring Venom, officially, into our coalition."

"So ... you asked me to hurry back to Corneria, but you don't want me to join you in the Command Center?"

"No, you have other important tasks, which will be assigned to you upon arrival. Although, yes, you will be my replacement. The Prime Minister officially made my fifth star, which I haven't worn since the Lylat War, a permanent part of my uniform. And you? You will be officially promoted to a permanent fourth star. And, if William Grey survives, he'll likely be promoted to full-bird Colonel by the end of this mission. Then I'll want him fast-tracked to having his first star within three to five years."

Peppy nodded firmly. "All right. I'm on my way. The autopilot just kicked on, and my landing sequence is showing an approach vector. So, I guess I'll receive orders of where to report when I arrive?"

"Peppy, no orders right now. You'll be debriefed at a later time. You're being given special permission to land your shuttle directly at your wife's residence. She'll tell you everything you need to know. Now, I have a job to do ... something I've been wanting to do since the Lylat War, ten years ago. Pepper - out!"

The screen went dark.

Peppy reached up and scratched his head between his two large ear stalks. "Well, uh..."

The shuttle's windshield began to glow a soft orange. A warning showed on the glass, reading, 'polarization effect in process.' The flame coloration darkened.

Peppy reached for the harness seatbelt, pulled it down from above his head, and clicked it into place between his legs. He sighed softly, causing a soft whistle between his large lapin teeth. "I'm being sent straight home...? I mean ... in a shuttle? That's not right. John would never allow such a breach of protocol. He's the kind of guy that parks in the employee parking lot and walks a half-mile to the command center HQ building, just like everyone else. Why the special treatment?"

The windshield continued to glow bright, becoming a deep crimson coloration.

"I swear, if this is some sort of stupid four-star promotion party ... in the middle of a battle ... I'm going to be pissed." Peppy trailed off, sighed, shook his head, and leaned back in the pilot seat. "No, no, that's something the boys would do. John would never violate protocol like that; armed shuttles aren't even allowed in the sky over residential sectors."

The shuttle sank into the deep blue skies of Corneria's upper stratosphere.

Peppy noticed a blinking light on his shuttle's diagnostic screen. It read, "Weapon systems offline - remote lockout active."

Peppy rubbed his chin. "Oh. Learn something new every day. Never taken a military shuttle in atmosphere before - always landed them on an orbiting station or on the Great Fox, and taken a civilian transport service to the surface..."

Silence.

Peppy sighed. "Get it together, Hare. You're talking to yourself like an old fool. If you keep this up people are liable to think you're going senile."

The shuttle shook from a temperature pocket, but the turbulence ended quickly. The shuttle made a beeline for a small township on the outskirts of the Capital City. The town buildings were tiny silver specks surrounded by lush green.

A warning displayed on the windshield. "Final approach..."

A beautiful old house, older than Peppy, came into view. He recognized it as the one that Vivian inherited. The historic old home looked picturesque as he approached it.

The shuttle came about, keeping its nosecone facing the house. It hovered for a moment, while the engines shifted from all-range-mode to landing mode.

Slowly, the shuttle lowered to a paved street in front of the property. There were no other houses in the immediate area, at least not for another mile in every direction.

A van was in the driveway adjacent to Vivian's compact SUV.

The van's doors had signage that read, 'Medi-Co. Hospice, Elderly Assistance, And In-Home Assistance' along with contact information and the name of the sector from where they operated.

Peppy swallowed down a lump in his throat. He leered at the van and whispered, "What the hell...?"

He hurried through the post-trip inspection checklist, making sure the shuttle was properly settled and safe. He ran a diagnostics check, put the computer into low-power mode, and hurried to the exit ramp.

"C'mon," he quipped, while waiting for the ramp to lower to the ground. Rubberized metal tiles, installed on the ramp, shifted so that they snapped into position, to become a staircase.

He raced down the steps, across the front yard, and up to the front door. He reached for his wallet, withdrew it from his pocket, and held the billfold firmly against the door, above the handle. It clicked, and the door opened with ease.

Peppy shut the door behind himself, pocketed his wallet, and sniffed at the air. "Vivian?" he called.

"In here!" came a voice that didn't belong to his wife.

Peppy followed the voice, through the foyer, into a hallway. He passed the stairs, continued past the living room, and stopped in front of the door to a guest room on the first floor at the end of the hallway.

The door was partially ajar. Peppy took a deep breath, swallowed back all his inner fears, put on a brave face, and pushed the door open. "I would say, 'surprise!' but John told me you know about me coming home in my work shuttle."

Vivian was laid out on a hospital-style bed with an IV in one arm, and a special bag for bathroom waste coming out from a tube that led beneath the sheets. She looked thin, frail, and her fur was baggy in places. But, upon seeing Peppy, she put on a brave face of her own, and lit up the room with her smile. "Love!"

Peppy hurried over to her. He saw some lady nurse out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't even tell what species they were. Instead, he went straight to his wife's side and dropped into a chair adjacent to her bed. "Had I known you were going to come down with lovesickness, I never would have left your side."

"I know, right?" she replied with a weak chuckle. "Just look at me - this is all your fault. Five minutes without you and I got bags under my eyes. A few weeks and..." She gestured to herself with her paws. "All this. You dreadful man," she said with a joking tone and a playful grin.

Peppy appreciated her strength of character, but he could plainly see the truth with his own eyes - she was dying from something aggressive.

Vivian gestured to the nurse, a lynx, and said, "This is Mrs. Patricia Wellington-Smith. She's been more than a nurse - she's been my best friend for the past year."

Peppy blinked. He looked from Patricia to Vivian, back to Patricia, and then back to Vivian. "Wait, you mentioned your friend 'Patty,' a few times but ... you've been on hospice this long?"

"I've been on home care this long," said Vivian. "I didn't want to worry you. On my good days, I met you at the mall, or wherever, and things were wonderful. But most days were just like this one. But Patty was just a care aid. Now? Well, now she's my hospice nurse."

"How long have you been suffering like this? I knew you said you were sick but ... I didn't know it was like this."

"You had a galaxy to save. I had a husband to motivate. We both had our crosses to bare, and, Peppy, yours is going to be much larger than mine once I'm gone."

"Vivian, we were supposed to spend the rest of our days together."

"Peppy, I am going to be doing just that, love. I'm giving you the rest of my days."

He exhaled with a slow nod. "I'll take whatever you can give me, Viv. I just wish it was longer than 'till death do we part,' you know?"

"Peppy ... I know." He opened her arms to him. "God, I've missed you so..."

Peppy scooted the chair close and leaned over her, meeting her embrace. "In the next life, let's make a promise that we'll stay together the entire time."

"Agreed," she said with a firm nod. "Unless, of course, it becomes my turn to save Lylat. But, you know, definitely the time after that."

Peppy laughed, and then, without warning, his laughter turned to tears.

The lynx, Patty, quickly left the room, unable to watch a man cry.

Peppy sat up a bit, gazing down at his wife's frail face. "We talk in holo-calls all the time. You never looked like this. What changed?"

Vivian laughed softly, but even that belayed the core tiredness in her voice. "Peppy ... I used a silly little app that cost one credit, which can make your face fat, young, old, skinny..." She reached a paw up and patted his face. "I added just enough 'fat face' effect to make it look as though I was filled out properly."

Peppy gasped with his maw agape. "You did what?"

She patted his cheek with a hoarse chuckle. "Oh, stop. You're impressed I fooled you, and it only cost a single credit."

Peppy laughed weakly. He was still too much in shock to be amused or impressed, but he knew she didn't need the guilt. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I was really fooled by a facial filter? Clever."

"I try," she replied with a weak grin. "I have good times of the day, y'know, where I can get up and walk around ... not terribly far, but I can go up to our bedroom and look at the pictures, and the bed where we made our family, and ... you know. Just live the life we made. But, for the most part, I am down here more often than not."

"I had no idea."

"I know. And it's okay."

"Why keep it from me, Vivian?"

"Peppy, you had a system to save. My job, as your wife, was to keep you focused, not distracted. Behind every great man is the woman who got him there; that's the saying, isn't it?"

Peppy wiped the tears from his face with the backside of his left paw. "That's the saying."

"Mm-hmm." She offered a soft, frail smile. "God I've missed touching your face. I know it hasn't been that long, but this last part of the sickness has come on strong ... very quick and aggressive, you know, this stage and all..." She took a deep breath, exhaled through her nose, and in a softer voice, said, "It just feels like it's been too long. And, as you can see, a lot has changed since last I saw you. Like I said, this sickness has come on very fast and very strong."

Peppy looked at the small bed and frowned. "Want me to carry you upstairs, and we can lay in our bed and watch TV together like old times?"

"You mean where I got to use your chest as a pillow, with your arm around me?"

"Exactly."

She reached down and unclasped the IV line to the backside of her paw. She cinched it off, twisted the clamp knob, and turned off the machine. She sat up a bit more and grinned at him.

"What about that waste tube?"

"Connected to an auto-cleaning bed pan. I can walk; you don't have to pick up my old butt."

"Nonsense," he replied, and slid his paws beneath her knees and neck. He lifted her smoothly.

Vivian hooked an arm around his head, while resting her face against his chest.

"See?" he said with a soft smile.

"I'm impressed, Peppy. You were in such good shape in your youth, and I ruined that with my cooking. Or at least I thought I did. But look at you."

Peppy carried her back down the hallway, up the stairs, and to their old bedroom. He stopped in front of the door. "Would you mind?"

She reached for the knob, turned it, and grinned up at him.

Peppy turned to the side, and eased through the frame, then he carried her over to the bed, laid her down, reached for the remote on the nightstand on his side of the bed, and switched it on. "What would you like to marathon?" He offered the remote to her.

"I think I know just the thing," she replied with a soft chuckle. "God I've missed this."

"I've missed you," he replied, then he kicked off his shoes, his coat, his pants, and he rolled onto the mattress at her side. He adjusted his boxers, then pulled his wife close.

She laid her head down on his chest and sighed softly. "This is nice."

"Don't I know it." He put his arm around her and waited while she used the remote to pull up a show. She stopped and turned to face him. "Wait, what about all those naughty promises you made to me while you were on that moon above Sauria?"

Peppy grinned a bit. "Are you sure you can manage?"

Vivian cupped either side of his face. "If you're gentle."

"I'll be gentle," he whispered and touched his nose to hers.

They shared a kiss.