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[Star Fox: Universe [R]aid]

Jack Russo

Star Fox and all characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners

Chapter 04 - Renewed Vigor

Lylat Corneria Territory Planet: Corneria McCloud Residence

Morning sunlight poured its way through the blinds, leaving parallel patterns on the carpet floor while dust flittered through the air. Through squinted eyes, a tired vulpine watched as a single speck drifted in mid-flight downward with not a care in the world. The bed creaked as his bedfellow did her best to nonchalantly get up, her movements shifting the sheets off him and exposing his naked chest. He turned slowly to see the canine replacing her bra-strap before hastily gathering her phone from the nightstand littered with empty beer bottles.

"Leaving so soon," Fox yawned.

"I've gotta go back to work," she replied, pulling up her skirt. She grabbed her coat on the chair by the door and zipped it up. "Same thing, right? Charge the card?"

Fox frowned. "Yes. When will you be free again?"

She smirked and sat next to him, placing a paw on his thigh; the proximity to his hip sending him shivers. "Wouldn't you like to know," she giggled and kissed him on the lips briefly. "See you later, handsome."

He rested back, folding his arms under his head and listened to the click of the front door opening and later closing. Bitch forgot to lock the door, again, he thought, but didn't put any effort into getting up. On the nightstand nearest him were three empty bottles and one half full; he reached for it and took a swig of the bitter liquid, gasping as if refreshed. The bottle empty, he threw it across the room and let it crash at the closet door, the glass scattering while he groaned and stared up at the ceiling.

It had nearly been a year since his father's death and since then Fox hadn't made much of himself. After the video feed had finished, he had let himself slump on the floor and ignored the pitiful looks the others were directing at him. Hours later there was a call on the holo-vid from the rescue teams and they were all boarded onto a Cornerian cruiser. They were escorted into a cafeteria and given food to eat but not one of them was in the mood for speaking. Several classmates came up to Fox to offer their condolences while he stared blankly at a full bowl of soup in front of him.

Everyone was stuffed into crowded living quarters after that. Falco and Slippy would try and cheer up the vulpine but eventually scattered off on their own during the flight home. Walt would drop by and frown at him while Bill tried to get him to laugh using lewd gestures but, finding no success, they also began to drift apart. Fox couldn't recall if he even got up during that time, choosing to sit at the corner of that room lost in his own thoughts

It was raining in Corneria when they had arrived a week later. The cold wind and water stung at his face as he descended down those stairs to see Headmaster General Peppy waiting for him holding a red umbrella. He had slowly walked up to him and accepted the hare's embrace as he bawled on his shoulders for the first time since their rescue.

"I'm so sorry, Fox," he muttered into his ear. "I'm so very sorry."

He followed the older man to his car with no motivation to keep up any conversation Peppy tried to engage in. His eyes watched the tall and busy buildings from the metropolis slide by through the passenger window. With some envy he would see happy families huddled close under their umbrellas; mothers clinging on to bags from hours of shopping and fathers holding their children up above their heads in a fashion similar to how his had done many years ago.

"Your father had left you quite a bit in the inheritance," Peppy was saying. "The loft is now under your name and your bank account has been activated." He handed the vulpine a cash card to the First Cornerian Bank. "I already left all your bank info on the counter top at your home."

The loft was near one of the busiest commercial districts in the Corneria City, located at the top floor of an upper-middle class residential skyscraper. Peppy followed him up to the room after parking in the garage. It was incredibly clean and smelled more sterile than he had remembered. Gray amber walls lightly decorated with some random wall paintings his father had thought were quite artsy surrounded him. A sectional sat in the middle of the family room in front of a large entertainment center and flat-screen television he used to labor at when he was a child playing games online.

But the place was too clean, minus the stack of papers Peppy had left on top of the counter top. It made Fox feel uneasy.

"I had someone from the office stock up your fridge," said Peppy, joining him into the family room. He waited for Fox to nod before adding, "I also gave you a little something. It may help the first few nights."

"Something?" He finally asked.

"In the fridge. You'll know. If you need anything, just give me a call. Oh, and here," he took out a cell phone from his pocket. "This is for you. I've already put my number in it."

Fox took the phone and stared at the bright screen; the Cornerian fleet logo set as the background. "Thanks."

"I have to be going now, but if you need anything-"

"I'll call, right. Like you said."

As soon as he left, Fox dropped what little belongings he had brought with him onto the floor and examined the kitchen, his hunger finally returning. The fridge was more than stocked, it was stuffed with little to no moving space for anything save one large bottle of Lylat's best lager. Since he had never had alcohol on his own before, he took the beer, ignoring the note attached to it by Peppy, and chugged it down.

He had ended up buying five more cases of the alcohol later that day, allowing the liquid to dull his senses til he passed out. The next morning, and entire day, was spent in front of the toilet cursing his luck. When he finally felt well enough to move he would make circles between the kitchen, the family room, through the hallway, look in on the empty study and bedroom his father used and then return to the bathroom to puke more from the exercise. It was that night he had also sifted through the envelopes Peppy had left him to find out he had a total of 583,000 Cornerian credits to his name. And with his own loft and that much money, what was any normal eighteen year old to do?

An hour of online 'research' and a phone call later, a collie with long flowing hair was at his door. The first time she had come she wore a red dress. His heart beat a thousand miles a minute as she sauntered into the living space, taking stock of her new work room.

"You have a nice place here," she had said.

"Yeah," he choked.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah."

She moved back toward his father's old bedroom. "In here?"

"Yeah."

The canine turned and faced him, her eyes skeptical as she approached him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," he lied.

"Where do you work?"

"I'm in college."

She held him at his waist, "Is this your first time?"

"Yeah-" he gasped, eyes bulging, "I mean, no!"

The canine laughed, lowering to her knees. "That's cute, kid. This will be fun," she giggled, her paws undoing his belt while Fox leaned his head back as soon as feeling set in.

And that was how Fox lived his life since his father had passed. There was nothing in the outside world he wanted or needed, unless it was time for more beer and food. During the day, he would slump in front of his television playing games on his entertainment system. Since money was no longer an issue, he'd easily just order movies on pay-per-view or new games whenever he got bored of his older ones. His nights were spent alone still in front of the television screen or with his new friend when she was available and as long as he tipped well.

If there was anything he did avoid, though, it was the news. He didn't want to see anymore networks broadcasting any of the propaganda video of his father. No matter how much the broadcasters would try and censure the event, it would not matter to Fox. It always returned the image of his father to his mind. And whenever that would happen, he would drown it all out again with as much alcohol as he could.

One morning, there was a knock at his door, the vulpine jumping from the unexpected noise. He had passed out on the couch the previous night and his head hurt from the drunken stupor. The knocking continued while he groaned out a reply and wobbled his way to it.

The door was opened wide enough for him to make out the outline of his classmate. "Slippy?"

"Uh, Fox?" He could feel Slippy examining him in his white boxers and wife beater. "How's it been going?"

"Good, good," he coughed out, widening the door. "Come inside."

The toad looked around nervously, eyeing the littered kitchen and the numerous bottles now decorating the family room. He sniffled twice, adjusting to the pungent mix of alcohol and body odor. "Fox, are you alright?"

"I've never been better," he smiled, taking out a new drink from the fridge. He waved it in front of Slippy for a moment but, seeing the toad refuse, opened it for himself. "What brings you here?"

"It's been a good four months since anyone last heard from you so I thought I'd see what was up." His tone was dripping with concern it made the vulpine sick. "Fox, I don't think this is really good for you."

"What, the drinks?" They met gazes for a moment, his a bit more fierce that it made Slippy uncomfortable. "I'm fine, Slip. Like I said."

"If you say so. The others were just concerned."

"Others?"

"Yeah. Bill, Walt. Even Falco."

"Touching," he muttered, taking a seat on the sectional. "Have a seat."

Slippy complied, sitting on the recliner across from him. He fidgeted a moment, having realized he sat on something and pulled out a pair of lacey, pink panties. He threw them on the floor, blushing.

"So what's up, Slip? How have you been?"

"I've been alright. Ever since the," he paused, choosing his words, "Well, ever since we returned back to Corneria, I've been drowning myself in my studies. I've been attending the Cornerian Fleet Academy for Engineering and have been enjoying myself."

Fox smiled. "That's great. What do you want to do with that?"

"I like ships," he admitted. "Not flying them, mind you. But fixing them. Making sure they work better. I've got half a mind to start making my own upgrades and seeing how they do with the models we're allowed to tinker with."

"Are you looking into weapons development then?"

"Yes. That and defensive tech."

Fox was in awe. His pal was really making something of himself. "How's Falco?"

Slippy scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I don't really talk to him that much. I've only received one message from him asking how you were doing but that was it. Word of mouth is he's working as a crop duster in some rural farm area."

The vulpine burst out in laughter. "He's what? Some farm hand now?"

Slippy shrugged. "He wants to be in the air, is all he's said."

Fox stopped laughing, realizing that the avian was probably fighting his own inner turmoils like he was. Albeit in a more productive matter. "Is he enjoying himself at least?"

"No. He's been moved to several different farms because of his attitude and apparent reckless flying."

"That sounds more like the Falco I know."

"Yeah."

He took a gulp from his bottle, noticing how Slippy squirmed a bit as he did. "And Bill? Walt?"

"They left two months ago to Katina. Bill wanted some more formal flight training and Katina's academy is best known for that. Walt followed, saying something about keeping an eye out for him before he," Slippy coughed and lowered his voice, "gets some girl pregnant."

"Well I guess he gets around," mused Fox.

"So he does," mumbled Slippy, eyeing the panties on the floor again, causing Fox to blush.

Fox was happy for his friends; happy that they were able to move on in some form. But that feeling gave rise to something else inside of him. While he was doing nothing his pals were out still living their lives. It made him even more angry. "Thanks for dropping by, Slip," he quickly said, the toad jumping.

"Oh, alright," he said, following as Fox led him out. "Oh, Fox, one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Headmaster Peppy had asked if you've been monitoring your mail and phone." He saw Fox's eye twitch at Peppy's mention. "There's a debriefing meeting planned and we need to attend."

"When?"

"I don't know. He said Parliament will tell us."

"Fine."

"Fox, take care of yourself?"

"Sure," he said, shutting the door and slumping back on the chair.

Slippy hadn't visited since then and Fox hadn't made any attempt to invite him back. He couldn't put his finger on it but just hearing about the others made him feel anxious. And when he started being able to feel and think again he'd drown it out in booze but wake in the morning with that burning anxiety once more. It was an all-consuming feeling that festered as each additional month flew by. Fox grabbed another bottle and threw it at the wall with its partner from earlier.

He finally got up from his bed, no longer interested in the patterns on the ceiling. He peered out through the blinds, seeing nothing out of the ordinary rush of cars and pedestrians on the streets.

"Quite a mess you've turned this house into."

Fox gasped and spun around to see Peppy standing at his doorway, his arms folded. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I knocked. Twice."

"What do you want?"

"If you'd been paying attention to your phone or your mail you'd know."

Fox scanned his memory. "The debrief."

"I'm glad Slippy informed you about that, what, six months ago?"

"What of it." He folded his arms also to mimic the hare's stance.

"Take a shower, you smell like shit." Peppy stomped over to the bedside, using a gloved hand to pick up a leftover panty while glaring back at Fox.

"She needs to stop doing that," he smirked.

"You need to stop wasting your father's money on cheap whores," he retorted. "For heaven's sake, Fox, what would your father think right now?"

"Well, he's dead, so I guess we'll never know."

Peppy rushed him, grasped his arms and shoved him into the master bathroom. "Shower. Now," he growled, slamming the door.

"You didn't let me get my clothes," Fox complained.

"Deal with it!"

He growled back at the shut door, but turned the shower knob anyway and hopped in, allowing the hot water to trickle down his torso and legs. It was the first time he was also made aware of just how badly he smelled, the combination of old sweat, dirt, and water augmenting the odor. Shaking his head, he cleaned himself up hurriedly and wrapped his waist with a towel.

Peppy wasn't in the bedroom, but Fox did notice how the broken glass had been cleaned up and the rest of the room tidied up. He had laid out a green, sleeveless shirt and some black slacks out on the bed for him, a red handkerchief set to the side. Fox hesitated before changing, grabbing a clean pair of underwear from a drawer first. By the time he emerged from his room the morning sun had already flooded into the family room. Peppy had also cleaned up the area and was presently reading a newspaper on the recliner, a cigar smoking in his mouth. He didn't acknowledge Fox when he approached so he started to walk into the kitchen.

"Don't you grab another beer," the hare growled.

"Hey, you started it."

"Something I see was in lapse of judgement on my part. Get your boots on, we need to go."

"Where are we headed?"

"Parliament building."

"Just us?"

"You know the answer to that."

"So everyone then," Fox said, digging his feet into a pair of grey boots that were in the coat closet. Glancing at Peppy, he noticed that the hare seemed more stiff than usual. "I'm ready."

"Good. Let's go," said Peppy. He folded up the paper and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Fox followed him down the elevator, through the parking garage and into his black car. Peppy wasn't making any additional effort to talk with him so Fox didn't bother trying. However, it was now obvious the hare was furious. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly it looked like the leather would rip from his gloves. And he was speeding. Much more dangerously than Fox was used to and gawked as Peppy ran a few red lights.

Ahead, the domed Parliament building grew closer; its many columns holding the decorated edifice. Each of the columns was sculpted into the shape of a previous Prime Ministers of Corneria, the current being the form of a buck named Harold Redgis. Fox thought his pillar to be the most absurd with his antlers jutting out unlike his predecessors. Peppy stopped the vehicle in front of a Labrador dressed up in all black.

"Get out," Peppy barked, opening his own door and leaving the vehicle. He handed his keys to the valet as Fox followed behind him and up the many stairs into the building.

"How long will this take," Fox asked.

"A long time," Peppy mumbled. "The bastards waited this long to meet I'm going to make sure I get answers."

Fox groaned, eyeing Slippy and Falco at the top along with an older blood hound he didn't recognize.

"General Pepper," Peppy greeted when the caught up to them. "I'm glad you can make it."

"Of course, old friend," he smiled. "I wouldn't miss your defense for the world."

"That eases my heart. You know Fox, correct?"

The older man examined him, noticing the faint whiff of alcohol. "Only by name."

"Fox, this is General Pepper. An old friend of your father's."

"Hi," he said begrudgingly while shaking the canine's hand.

"Fox," said Peppy, "let me and the General speak for a moment. Go see to your friends." The hare waved him away as Fox rolled his eyes.

"Hey Fox," said Slippy. "How are you doing?"

He grunted in reply.

"Someone looks like they've been living through hell," said Falco. "You smell like shit."

"Hey, I showered."

"Can barely tell. What have you been drinking?"

"Some cheap shit. What's it to you?"

Falco shrugged. "Thought you'd of like something high class than 'cheap shit'."

"Now, now," interrupted Slippy. "Let's not fight. We're in front of Parliament, after all."

"Yeah, for some circus act," grumbled Falco.

"Just why are we here," added Fox. "Wouldn't that stupid video have been enough? I'm sure they were able to get testimony from the other survivors."

Falco shrugged. "Beats me."

Peppy placed a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Time to go. Follow me."

He glared at the hare but followed his direction, the others trailing behind. They went through the main doors and into the vestibule which was also decorated with many tall columns. The floor was a shiny, pale marble and the air was filled with the hum of political talk from the many lawmakers inside. Peppy and Pepper took them up the first staircase, their footsteps dulled by the red carpet that ran down each step. When they approached the door to the main discussion hall, they were stopped by a soldier in his Cornerian greens and yellows.

"General Peppy, sir, your debrief has been moved to section D4."

"D4," gawked Pepper. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I only have orders, sir. Nothing else."

"What does this mean," Slippy asked.

Peppy turned to the three boys. "D4 is usually used for special guests. Someone has joined us."

"Who else could that be," asked Falco, but Peppy shrugged and took them to the nearest elevator.

His hand dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cardkey, using it to access the classified areas of the building and pressing the button in red: D4. When the doors opened it looked as if they were in a completely different building. Here the floors were made of a cheap, brown fabric and the walls looked stained; it was much shabbier than the vestibule. There was only one door at the other end of the long hallway and Peppy and Pepper led the boys forward.

Inside, the room was dark, save for a light that shown down onto a wooden table surrounded by chairs. Fox could make the dark outline of people around them, all of them turning and talking in whispers as they entered. He chose to sit at the end of the table beside Falco, eyeing the darkened crowd with curiosity. Suddenly, two more lights clicked on, both above a table to their left and another to the right. Sitting down were a people Fox had not seen anywhere except on video.

"What the!? What are they doing here," Peppy growled out, glaring at the humans to his right clad in a grey uniform.

"SILENCE," commanded a booming voice, all parties obeying as the center podium lit up revealing a stone-faced buck whose antlers shined in the bright light. "Parliamentary debrief: 154 A will begin now. Beginning with the Federation concerns."

To the left were another group of humans. The center figure wore a blue military uniform, his stripes signifying he was of high rank. He was joined by two other men who were wearing a metallic exoskeleton, their right arms equipped with an arm cannon. Fox gawked, having never been around this many humans in person.

"Yes," said the uniformed man as he got up and took his hat off, placing it on the table.

"I am Commander Thomas Hayes of The Galactic Federation. We have heard about the issues that have been plaguing Corneria for some time now but wish to first state that we, again, consider this a matter outside of our jurisdiction." There were a few disapproving whispers in the audience.

"However," he continued, "what is of concern to us are reports of stolen technology, blueprints and even a few of our cruisers around the area you call Sector X. We wish to gain knowledge as to the whereabouts of our comrades out there and if Corneria has any knowledge of the events that had transpired."

"We'd like to second this request," said the man opposite the federation. He stood up, removing his own grey hat onto the table while two soldiers in white followed his lead. What made him stand out was his long, black hair that trailed from his head to his lower back. "I am Prince Alexander of Loki, ambassador to the Inner Midgard Empire." His announcement was met with stifled surprise in the hall. "While we were out in the Haneik Region, we too got reports of tech stolen from us as well as numerous ships."

"You wouldn't have that trouble if you didn't invade our colonies," growled Peppy."

"ORDER," bellowed the buck from his pedestal. "You will hold your comments till you are asked to speak, General."

"Just what do they have to do with us, Prime Minister," returned Peppy.

Fox eyed the buck as he chose his words. "You will see shortly." Peppy, huffed at the reply. "Prince Alexander, what kind of ships do you claim to have been taken?"

"Seven frigates and four battleships," he replied casually. "They are of Aegis, Crusader and Longinus classes in our military."

"How do you just lose eleven ships like that," retorted Hayes.

"There was a coup." This comment was met with whispers. "We know who took our ships and are pretty sure they are the same that took yours as well."

"Who?"

"We call them The Occult."

Fox could hear the people around them growl in distaste. Even he bared his fangs at the mention of it, remembering the Jackal, Mahat, from the video. The Prime Minister slammed a hammer onto his gavel and called for order once more.

"The Occult," said the Prince, "are a fanatic group that broke off from their dying race on the planet Aeon. They are in this belief that there are 'keys to the universe' that, once in their possession, can restore their tribe and prevent its extinction."

"Prime Minister, what does this have to do with us," repeated Peppy, his patience growing thin.

"Everything, General," replied the buck. "Hear him out."

"The Occult have had similar skirmishes within our territory," said Hayes flatly. "But last we knew, the Occult were a vassal-class under the Empire."

"This is true," admitted Alexander. "However, we cannot confuse those under Empire protection with the fanatics. It would be an insult to the Aeon people, after all."

"How many have branched off?"

"Three that we're aware of. Mahat, I'm sure you have seen before. And the twins, Isis and Thoth."

"The Clairvoyants," growled Hayes.

"Please explain, who are these Clairvoyants," asked someone from the shadowed audience.

The prince looked up at Redgis, only answering after he nodded in approval. "They are, how do I put it simply, fortune tellers. Using their innate telepathy and augmented technology they are claimed to be able to see future events."

"What good would that do them?"

"It allows them to see a future they desire more and adjust their cause to meet that goal. However, before they separated from the Empire, they were in the process of creating a machine to forcibly alter the timelines to their benefit." There was silence, but with a smug grin, he added, "They wish to call it a FATE: Emulator."

Peppy had, at this point, had enough. "Sir, with all due respect. Just what is going on here?"

"What we're trying to say, good sir, is that we have no involvement in the events that happened in the planet you call Papetoon," answered the Prince. This was met with upset cries within the whole room.

Peppy gave him a hard stare. "You're saying, despite being called out on video, that the Empire had nothing to do with the attacks?"

"Exactly." He waited while the outrage within the room died down a bit, Redgis giving the crowd a glare. "The moment we were made aware of the video, we contacted the Prime Minister to defend our innocence."

There was quiet as the audience looked up to the Prime Minister expectantly. "I received a phone call minutes after the video was aired on television," he admitted. "The purpose of this meeting is to decide whether or not to believe your claims or not." He now looked at the center table, Fox nervous under his glare. "It is for that reason we asked these students here. Students who had more involvement into the events that transpired at the Papetoon Academy."

Falco and Slippy shared confused looks with Fox, while Peppy whispered something to General Pepper, obviously not happy with how things were panning out.

"Falco Lombardi," boomed the Prime Minister's voice, the avian standing up at attention, his eyes wide. "Tell us how exactly did events occur during your flight exhibition?"

He gulped. "Everything went normally, sir. That is, until we ran into three enemy jets."

"Was this before or after your attempt to knock out the Arwing I piloted by Fox McCloud?"

Falco shuddered. "After."

"So you admit you purposely tried to sabotage one of your classmates?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

"Do you understand that in the field, your allies are all you have to cover for you when things get rough?"

"I do, sir."

Regis grunted, another voice in the darkened room goading Falco, "Go on."

"Like I said, we were attacked. The first to go was Reynolds. We didn't know what was happening and his jet just blew up from laser fire."

"You may sit," commanded the buck. "Slippy Toad, stand."

"Yes sir," he said nervously, his hands quivering.

"You were the first to notice something was amiss, as reports state. Can you care to explain?"

The toad gave Peppy a nervous look before the hare nodded for him to go. "I, uh. I saw on radar that there was an irregular movement approaching from the upper atmosphere. When I noticed it was approaching the upperclassmen I asked control to look into it."

"And what did they say?"

"Not to worry about it." There were a few quiet gasps from the audience. "But I did anyway. When I saw that they were firing at the upperclassmen I ordered them to evade. Around that time the enemy frigate descended and the school was under attack."

"You were also ordered to retreat, were you not?"

"Yes."

"Did you?"

"No, I-"

"We have reports that you set up a firewall to block out the control room so you'd have sole control of monitoring the situation."

He gulped. "Yes, but I was-"

"Did you not think this would've hampered the defense of the academy?"

Slippy went silent, tears forming in his eyes. "I was only trying to help my friends!"

"Sit down. Fox McCloud!"

Fox stood up, giving Slippy a supportive look before meeting the Prime Minister's gaze. "We have word that you took charge of your other recruits in the air and aided in the defense of the academy."

"Yes, sir."

"Your friend, Bill Grey, spoke highly of you. Said you took up the mantle and rallied your friends to fight back. These are signs of a good leader."

Fox hesitated, aware there must be more.

"You are aware that the academy no longer stands in Papetoon, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"The building blew up about two hours after the shuttles departed. All that's left of the complex is the industrial sector, which survived the explosion."

The bomb, thought Fox. "We were told there was a bomb."

"By who?"

"A woman. Feline. She said she was in Special Forces."

"Are you aware that our military has no report of anyone in Special Forces having ever been stationed in the academy?"

Fox's eyes widened. "No, I did not."

"But shouldn't you? You did overhear classified chatter between your father and General Peppy, after all?"

"How did you...know that?"

"Your friend, Bill, told us you were aware of the attack and you and your father discussed it as you were docking to evacuate."

Peppy slammed his fist here. "Now wait just a minute!"

"Mr. McCloud, could you tell us, what was it General Peppy said in light of your father asking to raise the alert level of the base?"

Peppy and Fox met each other's gaze. It was then that he knew why Peppy was in such a bad mood. This wasn't a debrief, it was a hearing about Peppy. "Tell him," the hare whispered, defeated.

"He said not to raise the alert." The room was filled with angered shouts. Redgis using his gavel once more to restore order.

"In other words, we can trace the limited defense and academy losses to the judgement of General Peppy Hare," Redgis concluded, still slamming his gavel to quiet the room. "Parliament, have you heard enough?"

Five figures stood up from the crowd, their identities masked in the dark. "Yes," they all acknowledged.

"Then let the decision be heard."

Fox looked around the room dumbfounded as they spoke. "We find the student, Falco Lombardi, unfit to return to any academy due to recklessness and damage of Cornerian property. He is expelled and shall never return."

Falco howled out defiantly, Peppy holding him down.

"We find the student, Slippy Toad," another voice began, "unfit to return to any academy by sabotaging the network in time of need. He is expelled and shall never return."

The toad bawled, covering his face.

"We find the student, Fox McCloud, though his actions honorable, unfit to currently return to any academy due to recent character misconduct," Fox grimaced as he heard these words. "We recommend a psych evaluation and rehabilitation prior to any attempts to return to duty."

"And Peppy Hare," Redgis said himself. "Unfortunately the populace is in need to blame someone for the events that occurred in Papetoon. Based on current and previous testimony, we have now enough evidence to hereby relieve you of duty as General of Intelligence, effective immediately."

"Now wait just a minute," growled Pepper, but he was quickly silenced.

"General Pepper," said Redgis, "escort the four of them out of here, but return promptly. There is still much to discuss."

The old blood hound glared at the Prime Minister but turned to usher the group out. Peppy was livid, Fox could make out the sound of his teeth grinding. Slippy kept wailing and Falco had his fists balled trying to control his rage. As for him, that anxiety had returned and was gnawing at his insides with more intensity than before.

Behind them the doors shut as they returned into the long corridor, the ruckus from Parliament drowned out in silence. Peppy threw a fist at the wall, adding to the numerous dents that littered it.

"God dammit," he growled. "I knew this was some bull-shit set up."

"Calm down, old friend," consoled Pepper. "We can't do anything about it like this."

"The hell we can! They had this in mind in the beginning. No wonder they wanted the kids to go in."

"About that," trailed Pepper, eyeing Slippy who had knelt beside the wall, still crying. "I feel they were too harsh. I don't understand their judgement in that sense."

"Fox got off easy," huffed Falco.

"I did, didn't I," he growled back. "What the hell is this psych eval supposed to be for?"

"Character misconduct likely involving your whores," shot Slippy. Fox turned away, ears down.

"I need to return," said Pepper hastily. "I'll speak with you later, Peppy." The noise from inside filled the hallway briefly when the General entered through the doors, leaving the four of them alone.

"Well this solved nothing," muttered Fox.

"Your damn right it didn't," agreed Peppy. "Fucking Parliament wanted to blame someone for Papetoon and put my head on the platter. Fuck, I thought this would go better."

"Do you believe the Empire wasn't involved," asked Falco.

"I don't believe anything they've said," growled Fox.

"You and me both, son," said Peppy.

"What do we do now," wailed Slippy. "I wanted to work with ships! I was studying so hard! What the hell do we do now?"

They all hesitated to answer, each unsure of what they wanted to do either.

"What will the military do about Papetoon," asked Fox.

"Nothing," replied Peppy. The three of them looked at him in disbelief. "The school is gone so there is currently no strategic value to retaking the base. So says Parliament."

"What the fuck," shouted Fox, the anxiety inside him snapping. "What's the point in our military if they're so unwilling to help out the people?"

"Politics is a fickle game," muttered Peppy.

"So much weaving between the desires of the government and no action," growled Falco. "You know what, I'm glad they expelled me. I don't want to want to be part of such bullshit."

"You don't need to blame the military like that," countered Peppy.

"But why shouldn't he," agreed Fox. "If all they do is work on the whim and discretion of a Parliament and Prime Minister who'd rather talk politics than work any action then I don't want any part of it."

"And what of expelling us," shrieked Slippy. "We did our best! We were students and we were only doing our best! I thought we were helping!"

Peppy stayed silent, letting the kids rant their frustrations.

"Psych eval, my ass," Fox joined in. "I don't care if you guys think I got it easy, but I want nothing to do with Corneria like this. Even if I joined in, I wouldn't be able to get back at Pigma for what he did to my father." His voice grew low and vicious. "I wouldn't be able to hunt that pig and kill him."

Peppy's ears perked up slightly. "What did you say?"

Fox could feel that anxiety again, but it was unwinding. It was settling inside him, the spread of adrenaline in his body satisfying. That slump he had felt with the death of his father had vanished entirely. And with renewed vigor and conviction, he growled out, "I want to kill that pig. I want to make them pay. I want revenge! And I won't be satisfied until I have killed Andross!"

Peppy saw that Falco and Slippy were nodding in both awe and agreement. "And just how will you do that? You don't have ships, fighters, or the money to do it outside of the military."

"I'll find a way," Fox decided.

"Where did this Fox come from," grinned Falco. "I like him better. Take me with you. I'm tired of these lame farm jobs using an old plane. And there's no way in hell I'd let the military shut me out like this."

Fox grinned back at the avian. "You're an ass, Falco, but you're an amazing pilot," he admitted.

"What about me," demanded Slippy. "Do you guys know how to repair and upgrade any aircraft? Do you know how to monitor status on the battlefield from afar?" He smiled as the other two shook their heads. "Then take me with you too."

Peppy shrugged. "What is this, the forming of some new merc group?"

The idea sat nicely with Fox. "Yes, that sounds about right."

Peppy grinned back. "If you'd let this old timer join in with you, I think I know someone who can help start this shin-dig up. And you don't know just how much I want to sock it to Pigma for what he's done."

The vulpine looked at the others and, realizing having someone with Peppy's experience and connections would be a boon for them, smiled and nodded. "We would be glad to have you."

"Hah," bellowed the older man. "Who'd of thought we'd turn this shit day into something meaningful."

"So who do you know who could help us out money wise?"

He grinned. "I have a few ideas."