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Second Arc 4: Complications.

29 December 3048 LDC

CDI Orbital Platform ZX-1032

22:17 Local Station Time

The atmosphere within the CDI facility was muted. Despite security measures being taken the presence of Star Fox as well as General Pepper was a telling sign something was going on. Even among tight-lipped professionals rumors still wafted on the breeze; overheard conversations being misinterpreted and repeated as such things had been since time immemorial. The only thing most of the personnel knew for sure was that there had been a Venomian attack on a populated world; a staffer in the hospital section had inferred that two survivors were being brought out of stasis. Three members of Pepper's staff, quite obviously from Intelligence, had deployed several servers in the main conference room and the presence of armed guards at the entrance was enough to clue everyone on the station into the fact something major was happening.

For Rudi Wester, the added scrutiny wasn't something he wanted. He preferred his operations to be kept quiet, which meant the information rolling across the holodisplay on his desktop was incredibly worrisome. Something had to be done, and fairly quickly. He wasn't afraid of being discovered; in fact the real danger lay far beyond the grasp of the slow-moving bureaucracy the CDF was mired in. That's why he was where he was; he had the access and funding to make things happen. If those things didn't go according to plan, he had a duty to ensure a second plan didn't fail.

A finger pressed the intercom button on his desk, a soft beep ensuring the connection had been made. "Gareth, please direct Trubachev and Khitrovo to my office for a private debriefing immediately. Thank you." The two scientists were quite punctual and vaguely military in their mannerism, something which would work in his favor.

After a moment Gareth's voice came over the intercom. "They said they're on their way, sir. Expect them in about five minutes." Wester didn't bother answering back. He pulled up the relevant files from the network; stored on a shared partition nobody knew about. His personal, private files were locked down tight enough even the CDI network admins couldn't trace them. He would need every bit of what he pulled up over the next few minutes.

Four minutes later the door hissed open, revealing the two stoutly-built canines. Despite having been in combat the night before both looked refreshed and alert, as if they were used to covert operations. His files confirmed that. "Sit down, please." He waved at the plush seats in front of his desk. Made out of genuine Cornerian Ertwood and dark brown leather, they were an extravagant excess on a station built for total efficiency. The two took their seats, blue and hazel eyes tracking the executive; analyzing him as they had many times before.

"I wanted to congratulate you on a successful field test. I've reviewed the feeds from your armor. I had my doubts about the PR74 being able to take down Red Storm troops, but you proved me wrong. However, there seems to be a problem I've come across." Wester noticed the confused glances from the two scientists.

"And exactly what would that be, sir?" Ivan spoke up first, his voice and posture bordering on the defensive. "It was a textbook operation. We recovered the data and two Cerinian hostages. We proved that our rifles are capable of defeating Venomian combat armor and bypassing their shields. We also proved that the magazine capacity issues can be overcome with proper training. How would this not be classified as a success?"

"I'm glad you asked that, Trubachev." He struggled with the unique name as he punched a control on the holopanel. The same data that was on his display hovered in front of his employees. "Special Research Division of the Imperial Venom Defense League? Tagged as leading a few Red Storm special ops raids on Titania and Katina? Being mentioned in a few memos directed to Andross Oikonny himself? You two were in bed with Venom quite a long time ago. I'm pretty sure all of this was conveniently buried for some favors after the war, but this evidence is too damning to ignore. It explains how two weapons designers were able to overpower a force of veteran soldiers." He half-expected an outraged tirade from one of them. Instead, he got fairly neutral expressions despite the flash of hostility behind their eyes. He fully understood he was in a room with two former Venom soldiers who were capable of killing him with their bare hands, yet there wasn't much to worry about since he held all the cards.

What he didn't expect was a nod from Yuri. "That is true, sir. However, what you are failing to understand is that we are the chief designers of a weapon system that, how do you say, changes the game? If you expose us, you lose the PR74 project, lose respect from the CDF, and lose out on your valued profits." He practically spat the last part out as if it were a direct insult.

Wester shook his head. "I know your heads are into this project, but why do you think the PR74 production line is out in this backwater facility, instead of the factory stations on the primary worlds? CDI's projected profit this fiscal year is over eight trillion credits. The addition of the PR74 and related weapons might add three billion if sales are particularly strong. You can do the math. It's simply a drop in the bucket. These scandals can be covered up, especially with the connections I have." That was a bit of an exaggeration, although the two researchers didn't need to know that. Opening new demands into existing, stagnant small arms markets would prove quite lucrative over the long run.

The two exchanged a brief smattering of words in their liquid-sounding native language, most likely curses. Yuri spoke once more. "A capitalist such as yourself wouldn't bother mentioning this unless there was some sort of profit in it. You will either expose us or bury this, but you wouldn't have us here if you didn't have some use for us. We have designed effective weapons for you, and we have the training to use them. So dispense with the threats and tell us why we are here."

Wester paused for a moment, considering the former Venomian's words. He was astute; smarter than the ones he had sent before. They could likely complete the mission he had in mind, yet he would have to play them straight. "About a year ago, a colleague of mine sent me a disturbing report. There is an effort by Remnant forces, led by General Jan Krasser, to resurrect Andross. The details are sketchy, but apparently he managed to store his thought patterns into some sort of device. The problem is that to transfer those patterns requires technology that just doesn't exist. You would have to use a living conduit to do so, a particular test subject with the ability to transfer those patterns."

Ivan stopped short of rolling his eyes at what he thought of as a corrupt capitalist executive trying to control the fate of anyone he felt was under his station. "And how does this concern us? We don't know how to do that, if that is what you are asking."

"That's where Cerinia comes into play. While the CDF and Starfox are trying to find out what happened and why, I'm the one who has that information. Unfortunately, they wouldn't know what to do with it if it walked right up and yanked their tails, and the CDF is so full of leaks the Venomians would succeed in raising Andross from the dead if I even told them. So, this is a matter I need handled discreetly." That got their attention. The two leaned forward slightly; eager but not too eager. That was a good sign.

"I don't know how to describe the various abilities of Cerinians other than what they can do borders on the supernatural. The current standing theory is that their brains are adapted to manipulate electromagnetic fields in various ways, yet some are more gifted towards telepathy. Others are telekinetics. Fewer still are able to teleport objects over short distances. The rarest of these are called Channelers, who along with one of the aforementioned talents possess the ability to communicate with their spirits. They can act as a conduit for them. You understand where this is heading, right?"

Yuri nodded. "These Channelers, if you are correct, pose a threat if they are captured by Venom forces. This is a secret they were willing to kill an entire planet for. However, what if a rival Remnant faction used Purgers on Cerinia to simply kill them off before Krasser could get to them? Not everyone on their side would want Andross to return, if in fact such an act is possible."

Wester was duly impressed. Trubachev could have been a decent intelligence agent. He was asking the right questions. He expected the right answers. They likely had a chance. "The report identified nine Channelers on Cerinia. Like I said this is a very rare trait. Those who have it are usually singled out for something they call the Guardians... a kind of law enforcement branch of their church. It's some sort of religious thing for them, but that's beside the point. I hired several mercenaries, the best in their respective fields, to find and eliminate these threats."

Ivan nodded. "Brutal, yet it works. Sacrifice the few for the safety of the collective. Yet since we're hearing this, I suspect they failed in this mission. If the Remnant forces have them, it will be very difficult if not impossible to attain success." His tone was matter of fact as if the notion of Andross being brought back to life wasn't a frightening notion for him. He was detached, which was either a good thing or a bad thing. Wester wasn't sure which judgment was accurate.

"The team I hired was equipped with the same Spectre-IV scout armor I issued out to you for the field testing. They were also the recipients of the first production line projectile weapons from this very facility. Their craft was modified and outfitted with the best counter-detection equipment developed by CDI. Even as the Remnant landed on Cerinia they managed to kill eight of the nine Channelers and slip out entirely undetected.

"They made a mistake and killed a family member of the last remaining Channeler. She was sent out on a Cerinian-owned private yacht that slipped the Remnant blockade; it was apparently set for silent running. The mercenaries finally managed to track this yacht down when it crash landed on a restricted planet. It was assumed the ship lost power and she was killed while in stasis. The last progress report I received mentioned the craft was flying under its own power, and that they were moving to intercept whoever was flying it."

"And let me guess, that was the last you heard from them?" Yuri stopped short of chuckling. It was a classic case of the hunters becoming the hunted. "It sounds to me like they underestimated your little friend."

Wester sighed, somehow keeping his temper in check. The two scientists could be rather hard to deal with at times. "Keeping real-time monitoring of their armor systems and camera footage is very risky, even for me. Those sorts of things are watched for on the Hypernet. However, burst transmissions of suit status logs are relatively safe. Three days ago the transmissions stopped. The log files tell a pretty grim tale. Three of them are confirmed killed, one mortally wounded, and telemetry from that one and the remaining two cut off abruptly. With their experience and firepower I doubt they would have much trouble from the natives, which means a single Cerinian managed to take out an entire team of well-equipped mercs. Add the fact this Cerinian is only a Guardian trainee and just nineteen years of age. She somehow managed to survive being brought out of stasis without medical assistance and managed to best an experienced and well equipped strike team. That sounds rather unlikely, does it not?"

"You believe she has help." Ivan offered, hiding his puzzlement behind a thoughtful look. "Where did you say she had landed?"

"It's a backwater planet called Sauria. The place is home to a variety of native reptilians, none possessing any technology of note. Due to the low tech base there, the planet was barred from any Lylatian visitation. Not much is known about it, but the report I received before my team landed was that it was breaking apart." Wester punched up the relevant information. "And to answer your question, it is possible that she managed to fall into the hands of another merc team or pirate group using Sauria for a place of refuge, but many of those groups tend to avoid it. Several of the native lifeforms there are quite formidable in their own right, and reports mention that one of the more warlike Saurian tribes have small numbers of primitive projectile rifles."

The two took a moment to digest this information. "If that is the most likely case, then the chances she is still on that planet are quite slim." Yuri mused over the information. "If she managed to be acquired by a pirate group, it is likely they will try selling her as a slave. If they believe someone was looking for her, they would move her off the planet immediately."

Wester shook his head. "I would have believed so, but along with the suit telemetry I managed to recover a voice transmission from one of the mercs." He punched a control, allowing the slightly gravelly voice of a female to issue from the terminal's integrated speakers.

"Have visual on primary and secondary targets. They just took cover behind the lizards' command hut. Both are armed with projectile weapons, unknown type. Fetger, move in to engage. I'll cover you." After the voice had finished speaking a brief, rattling exchange of weapons fire was heard. The PR74's sound was quite distinctive, yet they competed with another type of weapon that sounded almost identical... almost.

The CDI exec blinked as the two scientists glanced to each other for a moment. Ivan nodded to the terminal, asking a short question in their strange language. Yuri uttered an equally short reply as he shook his head. He was about to ask them to speak Lylat for once, yet the glares he got from both of them stopped his admonishment before it left his lips.

Instead, Ivan's voice challenged him. "Did anyone leak our weapons besides yourself? Handing these prototypes out to freelance mercenaries before they reached legitimate users? And for them to reach Cerinia and back would have taken months. That means they could have sold a copy to just about anyone willing to pay. Instead of having a tightly controlled secret to use against the Remnant, you have just armed pirates with it."

"Spare me your sanctimony, Khitrovo. I could discuss the irony of a former Venomian freelancer working for this company and fighting his former comrades, but I don't have the time. I've given you enough information. You can go to Sauria and kill this Cerinian for six million credits, or I can forward your true dossiers to the good General here. I don't think you'll be let out of Intelligence custody anytime soon. The choice is yours." Wester practically growled at the two. They were monumental pains in his ass, but he had to admit they made a very clever workaround to the problem of bypassing Remnant shields.

"Fine." Yuri spat, rising to his feet and motioning for his partner to follow. "We will accept your blood money, capitalist. However, I would highly advise you to not play your blackmail card against us. You may not like where you end up." Without waiting for a response he stalked out of the office, Ivan hot on his heels.

The waiting room to the station's infirmary was empty, save for the vulpine commander of the Star Fox team, his mentor, and their old friend and patron. General Pepper glanced to the door, which was currently flanked by two armed and primed Cornerian Marines. The protection of the two Cerinian patients within was of utmost importance.

"I can't believe someone would actually use a Purger, let alone against a planet that couldn't even defend itself." Peppy was still seething with anger hours after they left the stricken homeworld. "We need to find these bastards, George. They can't be allowed to get away with this."

"We have Intelligence looking into it, guys." Pepper's voice was as calm and smooth as glass. To those who didn't know him that well it appeared that he was quite emotionally detached at times of great stress. Fox and Peppy knew quite better. Under the deadpan expression lay a calculating mind that was the equal of any of the historic Cornerian generals; his mind was already going about the best way to root out and defeat the Remnant threat.

That wasn't an easy task by anyone's definition. They had been fighting the Remnant since Venom fell at the end of the war. Those who survived the first few months of Cornerian retribution got smart. Large portions of the once mighty military had devolved into splintered pirate groups and warlords content to rule over their personal corners of the system. It had taken a few years but most of them had been defeated. The revelation that an actual fleet of Venom warships was still around and wreaking havoc wasn't a pleasant one.

"Who do you think it is?" Fox asked, turning the conversation to the obvious topic at hand. Out of the handful of Venomian generals who escaped imprisonment or death(some by their own hands, others in battle), most had been accounted for.

Pepper glanced to the two. While they were technically mercs, he trusted them about as far as he trusted his closest staff. They had risked their lives to unite and save Lylat. They were now involved in a potentially nasty situation. They deserved to know. "We first thought they were under the command of Andrew Oikonny. However, personal logs recovered from the scientists in that prefab you raided points to another general we thought was killed at Sector X. Jan Krasser."

Fox and Peppy both scowled at the information, old memories of the Venom War being dredged up. Krasser had been a severe thorn in their side and his defeat had been an important milestone in their mission to break through to Venom itself. The thought of him rallying the Remnant brought a chill up Fox's spine. "He must have had access to a stock of those Purgers! Why wouldn't he have attacked before now? There has to be a reason he waited all these years."

"All we have gathered from their files is that the two Cerinians you rescued possibly have some information on one of the Channelers, and the order to use the Purger came directly from Krasser." Pepper motioned to the door leading to the medical bay. "As far as their plans to try to resurrect Andross, it sounds like whoever killed them did a very thorough job. As much as I hate to say it, they might have done us a favor." The words left a foul taste in his mouth. Innocent civilians had been murdered in order to protect the Lylat System from Andross' wrath. Even more disturbing was the insinuation that someone other than the CDF was at least one step ahead of them. The unknown element had Pepper concerned. Were they an ally, or just a third party with their own agenda?

"Do we know which Channeler they have information about?" Peppy's voice broke what had been a moment of silence that went completely unnoticed. "They may have more complete intel than we do. Maybe a couple of them have escaped and Venom forces are looking for them?"

Pepper shook his head, extracting a datapad from his pocket. As he spoke he passed the pad over to Fox, letting him glance over its contents. "From their records the ones you rescued are from the same region and knew her. Considering she is the only Channeler that is unaccounted for we need to find her before they do. Even dead her body might be useful to the Remnant."

Fox glanced at the small dossier some unknown Intelligence agent had drafted up. A cropped family holophoto was the centerpiece, featuring an incredibly exotic-looking vixen offering a soft smile to the camera. Emerald eyes nearly the shade of his own looked as if they could peer into his soul, accented by her cerulean fur. She was hauntingly beautiful; the fact she was most likely dead adding a personal footnote on what was already a senseless tragedy. Forcing the thought out of his mind, he scanned the particulars.

Krystal Haleth, nineteen years of age. About 165cm tall. Approximately 63 kilos. Daughter of Haran and Yitana(deceased) Haleth, Members of the Grand Council of Cerinia. Trained as a Guardian(basically a police officer/mediator attached to their church). High marks. Gifted in telepathy and Channeling. Proficient in the use of the Cerinian Guardian Staff(a multi-purpose melee and ranged weapon with functions that allow it to outclass most standard blasters in many respects). Her brother taught her basic flight skills, enough to be able to pilot the shuttle she was placed in. Fluent in Lylatian as well as Cerinian dialects. Highly intelligent and driven to help others. Would have made an excellent OTS cadet.

Fox passed the datapad over to Peppy. "Is there any chance she could still be alive? There's got to be some sort of backup system for a stasis pod, right?" It made sense to him, at least.

"You're right about that, but even a military-grade backup system couldn't last over two months in the dead of space. Once power gets to a critical level the pod will alert anyone nearby and try to revive the subject. The process is very dangerous and without trained medical personnel present there is a very high chance of something going wrong. If she wasn't lucky, she would be adrift on a dead ship with no life support. If the ship had enough time to crash-land on a habitable planet and she survived the stasis pod, there's a chance she could still be alive. I don't have to tell you how astronomical those odds are, though." Pepper glanced to the two, a sad expression on his features. It pains me to think a young life was cut short like this, but we have to face the reality here."

Peppy paused for a moment, realization starting a hard pit in his stomach. "That's why they wanted those two, George. They might have known where her ship was headed. If they found out what station the Cerinians designated as their emergency rally point, all they would need to do is send a small strike team to take her. They don't know she's adrift and dead, sir."

"Thank the Creator for small favors." Pepper let out a sigh of relief. "I'm going to increase security here, just in case. But your mission remains the same. Find her. Also, I have a formal request from the Rangers to bring you in on another job, effective once you locate and retrieve the Channeler."

"What's that, sir?" Fox replied, trying to disguise his elation at the pleasant turn of events. Had something else come up?

"There's a planet called Sauria, out in the Fringe. It's mainly populated by sentient reptilian natives with a rather low technology base. Because of this all trade and communication outside official channels was banned. A Ranger patrol in the area did a routine long-range scan which indicated the planet was breaking apart. While it is far enough out of the way to not affect anything except a couple of freeports, there are sentient beings on the planet and we need to ensure their safety. I'd like you to investigate after retrieving the Channeler."

Fox nodded to Pepper, grateful that one well-paying gig was leading into another. They sorely needed the funds to maintain and upgrade the Great Fox. "We'll do it, sir. I'll call Slippy and see if he's gotten any more data out of the shuttle's Slipspace vector and..."

The vulpine merc stopped as the door to the waiting room opened, revealing the two canine CDI scientists. Outwardly he kept his cool, calm demeanor but his mental hackles were raised. Something about the two didn't sit well with him. He couldn't put his finger on it but something about them wasn't right.

To his credit, Pepper was much less reserved and friendlier to the two. "Thanks for the assistance on the ground. Is there anything we can do for you?" However, that was part of his job. Being diplomatic and friendly got far better results than being openly hostile.

"We were here to check on the Cerinians." Ivan described tersely as he took a seat near the trio. Yuri followed suit yet remained silent; offering a contemplative glance as if he was quite deep in thought. "That and to see if you wished to spar, Mr. McCloud. We did discuss that on Cerinia, no?"

Fox was about to reply, but Pepper beat him to the punch. "Actually we had another request for you two. I would like you to run the Starfox team through your weapons familiarization course. The Great Fox has its own firing range, right? Perhaps afterwards you can have your sparring match." The aging general rose to his feet, beckoning the others to follow his lead. "Once the Cerinians are well enough to walk around I'll make sure they pay you a visit. I'm sure they'll want to meet their rescuers."

The firing range on the Great Fox was a feature reserved mainly for military ships, requiring a great deal of precious space. As the dreadnought was designed with the massive amount of automation necessary to be operated by a minimum of crew, there was more than enough space for it. The range was situated underneath the main hangar bay and was sufficiently armored to keep almost any reasonable small arms fire from penetrating the hull. After consulting the data sheet on the PR74, Slippy deemed the new projectile weapons safe to fire.

The new weapons were organized upon a table tucked against the back wall. They had been provided with four examples of both rifle and sidearm, as well as a liberal number of ammunition 'magazines' of various styles. True to his meticulous nature, Slippy had labeled each of the magazines with their capacity. The slender, curved contraptions for the rifles held thirty rounds, with a longer version holding forty-five. A bulky, heavy variant held seventy-five; the literature said it was primarily designed for a heavier fire support model which was still in development. That was obviously slightly out of date; Fox recalling the fact Ivan had been toting one of them yesterday.

The pistols held twelve rounds; a pittance in comparison to even tiny holdout blasters whose power packs usually held at least thirty. They were, however, much smaller than most military-issued sidearms. Despite its shortcomings Fox figured a concealable pistol which ignored particle energy shields could be a nasty surprise in the right hands. "Let's see what this can do, Slip. How about programming Variation C into the target software?"

Slippy nodded while punching a few commands into his datapad. The device beeped, prompting the Starfox engineer to turn to his old friend. They'd known each other for practically their entire lives. While he wasn't an ace in the cockpit like Fox or Falco, he was a technical prodigy and was just about the sole reason the_Great Fox_ was operational without the expensive maintenance a ship of its complexity required. "It's ready when you are, Fox."

The pilot decided to try one of the sidearms first. They were most likely to receive use as they were compact; the projectile-firing rifles were far too large to maneuver inside an Arwing's cockpit. The weapon felt heavier than it looked; instead of being constructed with the advanced polymers and carbonweave of most blasters, these were constructed with durasteel. It took a moment for the vulpine to get a sense of the weapon's balance, but he conceded the fact that it pointed well. "Alright, start it."

A buzz sounded from the firing line, Fox slamming one of the magazines into the weapon. His fingers automatically reached for the nonexistent power coupling button, a curse coming to mind as his muscle memory caught up with the fact it was a mechanical projectile weapon. He grasped the top portion of the weapon and let go, the weapon readying itself with a loud metallic clatter.

At that time his first target popped up, a holographic model of an elite Venom Red Storm trooper. The unit was among the most loyal to Andross during the war and composed a great deal of the actual Remnant's ground forces. If they would be facing the personal energy shields that these weapons were designed to defeat, they would be the most likely recipients of that technology.

The pistol's sights were easy to use, a simple yet effective 'notch and post' arrangement. Three bright green dots helped alignment, most likely for use at night. The sights settled on the breastplate of the crimson armor, Fox squeezing the trigger to get the best accuracy possible from the prototype sidearm.

The noise was horrendous, more akin to a miniature grenade going off than a blaster shot. The backstrap of the pistol slapped against his hand, forcing the muzzle to jump off-target significantly; compared to the barely noticeable tug of a blaster. As the projectile passed through the holographic field projected by the firing range's control software, sensors went to work determining the projectile's mass and velocity. Calculations against known values for Venomian combat armor were processed in milliseconds; simulations on what the projectile would do to a living organism took a shade longer.

The holographic soldier reeled as if he had been punched, his armor sporting a small hole in its chestplate just a few centimeters underneath the ape's shoulder. The soldier still tried to bring his standard-issue XVA-37 carbine to bear on Fox. The simulation would end if the weapon fired. With lightning-fast reflexes Fox fired twice more, struggling against the pistol's recoil. Those were solid center mass hits, sending the target to the deck before it vanished.

Two more Red Storm soldiers appeared, already bringing their weapons to bear. The vulpine mercenary fired two more shots at the first one then turned to engage the second. Two more shots echoed out, heralding the elimination of the target. Unfortunately the first hadn't been taken out; a fact which was brought to light by the sound of a blaster. A harsh buzz sounded and the simulation shut down, leaving an irate Fox to survey his handiwork.

"Dammit!" the merc growled, fumbling with the pistol's magazine release. Another curse almost came to his lips yet the sound of footsteps from behind cut off his less than glowing critique of the weapon he had just tested.

"Not bad for your first time with the PP-12, McCloud." Yuri's odd accent punctuated the scene as he met the StarFox team's confused glances. "You have now noticed the differences between a firearm and a blaster. The recoil takes training to manage well, but with time you become quite effective."

"It lacks punch, Yuri." Fox stated, shaking his head. "Yes, it bypasses shields. However, that doesn't matter that much if your target takes so many hits to go down." So far he was unimpressed. The rifles were impressive to see in action, but he didn't see much benefit of the sidearms over a standard blaster.

"Effective hits, Fox. Shot placement. Quick action. Training and practice. You will not be an expert immediately, even if you are good with a blaster." Yuri continued patiently, as if he were teaching a child. Fox bit his tongue, allowing him to finish. "Slippy, reset the course." As the red light above the shooting range flashed to green he picked up Fox's pistol, reloading it in a swift, practiced motion. Fox's suspicions were almost confirmed. No scientist moved like that.

The CDI employee went into action as if he were a Ranger. The pistol tracked the first holographic target, two rounds shot into it. As it reeled backwards a third was delivered to its head, causing it to wink out. The tall canine continued the process, going for head hits whenever he could. As the pistol ran empty he rammed another magazine in, finishing off the last two simulated guards off in a hail of gunfire. By the time he cleared the pistol and set it on the table Fox's ears were ringing. "Care to try again?" He motioned Fox towards the firing line once more.

He lost track of time, wrapped up in a blur of explanations, tactics, and tricks on how to use the new weapons effectively. Within half an hour he was able to clear the first course with the pistol, using the strange tri-shot technique Yuri showed him. The training moved onto the rifles, which the young mercenary found much more natural to hold. The kickback from the weapons resembled a heavy blaster rifle, but was much less harsh than the pistol. The rifles were also far more effective against the Red Storm targets, taking a hit or two to put them out of action.

By the end of the course Fox had gotten the hang of the new weapons. He still preferred the far greater capacity and familiarity of his blaster, but after shooting them side by side he realized the pros and cons of both systems. One thing that stuck in his mind was the curious lack of malfunctions the new weapons had. It was a good sign, but didn't all prototypes have operational quirks that needed to be rectified in later generations? "I'd rather stake my life on a good blaster, but I have to say these are pretty reliable. Any idea who is placing orders for these yet?"

Yuri shook his head. "Not as of yet. The beancounters tend to keep those facts away from us. Unfortunately, we just design the weapons." He offered the ace pilot a smirk as he cleared his PR74, placing it back on the table they had been using for the past couple of hours. "I have heard rumors that they are being issued to some Ranger units on a trial basis."

"If anyone's going to see fighting anytime soon, it will be them." Ivan's voice boomed into the room, a strangely jovial quality to it that made both of them turn. The canine stood there, dressed in a plain set of loose camouflage fatigues. At that moment Fox decided to speak up.

"I appreciate your help, both back on Cerinia and this training session. But, I have to ask. It's pretty obvious you two have seen some sort of service; there's no way that you can't be former military or at least mercenaries. So, what is it?" The two scientists didn't stiffen or hide their faces. Instead, Yuri responded.

"You are correct, Mr. McCloud. We spent some time in a PMC called Farsearch Industries. We were primarily technicians, although we were very well trained and saw some operations against Remnant forces. That's where we came up with the idea for the PR74." He waved to the weapons on the table. "After losing friends to a squad of Red Storm, we decided something must be done."

"Venomian shield systems, while effective against most energy weapons, aren't equipped to deal with shrapnel and other threats from projectiles. They provide some limited protection, granted, but the velocity from a PR74 projectile can overcome that. In addition to that, the sidearms will have some advantages in covert operations as well." Ivan motioned over to the pistol that was laying on the range table next to the vulpine merc.

It didn't take much of a leap for Fox to get the point. "They don't have power cells or gas cartridges." Those were the primary means of detection for most weapons scanners. Blasters used a combination of compressed ionized gas as well as energy to fire a particle beam, although short-range, high-powered lasers weren't unheard of either. One could easily walk into a space station with one of those PP-12 pistols stashed in their pocket, or worse... a few PR74s smuggled in with their luggage. It was a chilling thought. "I see what you mean."

"Advantages and disadvantages, Mr. McCloud." Ivan replied. "Everything has its time and place. Speaking of which, would now be an appropriate time for our little match?"

---

The gymnasium on the Great Fox had kept much of its standard layout from the original Valiant-class dreadnaught blueprints. While unimpressive from a capital ship standpoint, the facilities were quite large in comparison to the small size of the crew. Fox sometimes hosted small bakiz tournaments there, which prompted the mercenary to install a regulation-class sparring circle in one of the corners. Twenty-five meters in diameter, the rules were generally very simple. You lost if you went out of the ring or were pinned for more than eight seconds.

Bakiz had evolved from ancient self-defense techniques practiced by peasants thousands of years ago to a highly stylized martial art with an emphasis on self-discipline. Fox had found many practical applications of his hobby, however; typically on missions or against drunken barflies who wanted to best the Arwing pilot who brought Venom to its knees. The latter opponents quickly found out he wasn't to be trifled with, Arwing or not.

He stood at the center of the ring, dressed in traditional sparring garb. His hard-earned gray band was wrapped around his waist; a symbol of the time and energy he had devoted to his craft. The loose, white tunic and pants completed the traditional ensemble, in complete contrast to his sparring partner.

Ivan was dressed in the strangely patterned camouflage uniform he seemed to favor, standing in a stance that was quite unfamiliar to Fox. There was no posing, no exaggerated balance; he simply stood as if he were undergoing inspection on a parade ground. His eyes regarded Fox calmly, yet the merc could tell he was being watched under a very practiced eye.

The command, issued by Yuri from a respectful distance beyond the circle, spurred Fox to action. "Go!" Both fighters reacted; Fox by nimbly skirting over to Ivan's right while the larger canine attempted to close the distance. The former contractor delivered the first blow, a deceptively simple punch. There was nothing but economy of movement behind it, his entire body rotating to deliver as much power as possible. Ivan's fist narrowly missed the lightning-fast vulpine, giving Fox enough of an opening for a counter.

His own fist flashed out in a sharp, powerful jab towards Ivan's midsection; deflected by a quick motion of his opponent's forearm. He was quick as well as efficient. The first couple of blows had already told him what he needed to know: he was facing someone who was well-trained and experienced in a martial art he hadn't encountered before. Ivan was no pushover. Neither was he.

Without missing a beat Fox launched into a series of rapid punches, striking whenever he had an opening and dodging Ivan's powerful counters. The CDI scientist absorbed a couple of good hits as if he hadn't even felt them. Ivan feinted to the left before snapping around to deliver a crushing blow to the vulpine's midsection. However, Fox's reflexes were neigh near legendary and he managed to avoid the fist. His hand wrapped around Ivan's wrist, twisting the big canine's arm with a little more force than necessary. Instead of falling into a heap on the floor, Ivan managed to use his own momentum. Tucking into a combat roll, he managed to lash out with a sweeping kick aimed at Fox's ankles; almost sending the pilot falling onto the mat with him.

Fox, however, had other plans. He kicked out as well, sending a well-aimed strike into Ivan's shoulder as he was scrambling to his feet. The blow sent him back onto the mat outside of the circle, offering a grunt to the nearly empty training room.

"Point. One to naught." Yuri stated, giving a quick nod to the vulpine merc. He extended a hand to his opponent, giving him a lift back to his feet. Ivan's quick nod and a resumption of his fighting stance spurred Fox to do the same. Thus began the second round.

Fox went in quickly, repeating a combination of vicious, quick punches to the bigger contractor. A few landed, sending Ivan backwards a couple of steps; as he went on the defensive Fox pressed his attack. However, Ivan's blocking maneuvers were tough to get through, his arms deflecting blows and delivering powerful counters that soon sent him stepping backwards, close to the edge of the ring.

He wasn't sure what happened. One moment he was preparing to sweep Ivan's legs out from underneath him and the next he was flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him. His feet were outside of the ring by several centimeters. "Point. One to one." Yuri's voice echoed from above. As he was trying to regain his breath, Ivan grabbed his hand and leveraged him up into a standing position.

"Quite impressive, McCloud." Ivan offered Fox a nod of approval while he tried to regain his breath. It was like getting hit with a transport craft. He wasn't lightning quick, but he was agile and he hit hard. "Not many take me on the first round. I appreciate the challenge."

"Same... here." He was gasping for breath. There was a time a few years ago when he had a run-in with Wolf O'Donnell, the lead pilot of Star Wolf. The lupine pirate hit just about as hard as Ivan. It was a challenging match, and he needed to blow off some steam after the horrors he witnessed on Cerinia. "Care to make it a five point match instead of three?"

"Da. We could use the practice, I think." After a moment Ivan shifted to a ready stance. "Are you ready to begin?"

---

"They're stable, but there were complications, sir." The lanky ocelot doctor, dressed in standard base medical garb, was explaining the events of the past several hours to one of the most powerful men in the Lylat System. Despite Pepper's presence he seemed quite matter of fact, neither intimidated nor starstruck. Pepper respected that; Dr. Dalan was a professional worthy of his credentials. "Multiple stasis procedures within short periods of time tend to increase the adverse effects. The fact they were drugged before being put inside the pods makes it pretty apparent the Venomians weren't planning on keeping them long."

Pepper bit back a burst of anger at the news. The Cerinians had been treated like playthings for the Venom troops, both of them having been beaten severely in bouts of 'interrogation' and shoved into the stasis pods several times over the past few months to reduce the drain on their life support and food supply. "Will they survive?" After what had happened to them they deserved to get back to their people. They needed the information on the Channeler, but that was quite secondary.

"The younger one will likely make it. I don't know her background, but she's strong and pulling through just fine. She speaks Lylat fairly well, too. Keeps trying to talk to my staff, wondering where her friend is." He paused for a moment, his mood souring as he gave a sigh to the still air within the waiting room. "The older one isn't out of danger yet. We're doing the best we can, but she's suffering heavy internal bleeding. Simply put, she took the brunt of the Venomians' frustrations."

"Bastards." Pepper spat, shaking his head. The complete savagery of the Red Storm troopers made him glad they had been killed. The loss of the scientists was unfortunate, but at least the data on their servers had given them new leads. The Intelligence technicians hard at work in the conference room were making quite a bit of headway with their encryption. "May I see them?"

"Of course, General. The younger one is awake and might be talkative. Just be easy on her; she's been through a lot." Pepper nodded solemnly and allowed the tall doctor to lead him into the small maze of hallways that made up the infirmary.

As they entered the room he could tell Dalan hadn't been exaggerating. The vixen's fur was matted in several spots and there were multiple bandages on her arms. Calm, gray eyes regarded him curiously, taking a moment before she spoke. Her voice was strained and hoarse, yet her crisp accent rang through the room. "Someone new? You're treating me nicer than the red ones. Where am I?"

"You're safe here, ma'am. This is a research station in the Lylat System." Pepper gestured to the room around them as he made his way to the foot of the hospital bed, offering her a gentle smile as he did so. "My name is George Pepper. What's yours?"

"Chandril." She blinked at him before giving him a weak wave of her hand. "Chandril Etan from Cassat, Ferin District of Cerinia." She spoke this with a certain amount of pride. "You're dressed differently... wait." Her questioning look instantly turned to one of recognition. "You're the Cornerian general who beat back Venom, right? Along with Star Fox? The traders gave my family news videos about the war..."

Pepper's expression remained impassive as he nodded, but that sparked a big question. Exactly how much did the Cerinians already know about life in Lylat? He wasn't expecting an alien to know of his military career, but apparently she did. "You are right, Miss Etan. I command the Cornerian Defense Force, and we found you during a mission to find out what happened to your homeworld. "

"They kept asking us about her." The simple comment caught Pepper's attention. "They wanted to know where she was, where she was going to go. But, we didn't know!" Her weak voice mirrored the general's frustration. "They kept on hurting Generia, and when she didn't have the answers, they started hurting me in front of her. She stepped in, and they hurt her even more." By the end of her short tale tears were streaming freely down her cheeks.

Pepper took a deep breath. She was hurting, mentally as well as physically. He didn't want to cause any undue stress or pain, but what she knew was vitally important. "I don't mean to bring up what those bastards did to you. It's important that we know who they were searching for. Many lives might be in danger if we can't find them."

Chandril glanced up to the ceiling for a long moment, trembling with a combination of exhaustion and fear. "They wanted my friend, Krystal. They said she was the key they were looking for, that the others were dead. We were caught trying to escape, and they killed the others we were with when they said they didn't know her." She glanced back down to Pepper, blinking away even more tears. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what that means. I think they were using me to get Generia to talk."

Pepper was interrupted by a knock on the door before he could respond. Dr. Dalan's voice carried into the recovery room without giving either of the two a chance to protest. "The older Cerinian is asking for both of you. I don't know how she knew, but she asked for you by name, General." As he spoke he maneuvered a hoverchair into the room, an orderly in tow. "We'll be right behind you. I'm not sure how much longer she'll be coherent."

Confused at the sudden interruption, Pepper stood up and walked out of the room. Another orderly ushered him into the next room, where the tone was decidedly different. Another Cerinian was tucked into a hospital bed, this time surrounded by machinery that desperately, tirelessly worked to keep her alive. Bandages covered her facial features, yet defiant purple eyes stared back at him. Her voice was barely audible, yet carried a regal tone that demanded respect despite her struggle to speak their language. "Please. Chandril. Don't speak you talk. Speak through her."

A moment later Dalan glided the hoverchair into the room, Chandril's form perched upon it. Pepper wasn't the best at judging someone's age, but if he had to take a guess Chandril was in her twenties whereas the other vixen(Generia?) was in her forties or fifties. Chandril's expression alternately brightened and stiffened, spurred by a quick exchange in their flowing native language.

Pepper wasn't sure what he was seeing, but Generia's voice was insistent, almost commanding. Who was she? He was waiting for Chandril to translate, yet the surprise turned to shock as the older vixen reached out and grasped her counterpart's hand. Chandril yelped and stiffened before going slack in her hoverchair. Pepper stepped forward along with Dalan, but stopped when the younger vixen started to speak.

Her voice was a strange, emotionless monotone; eerie and disturbing given the context of her words. "I apologize for the disturbance, but this was the only way I can really speak to you. I regret doing this to a child who has suffered much, but I sense my time on Melos' path is drawing to a close. I am High Priestess Generia Vosul of the Great Temple in Cassat. The red ones who you call Venomians attacked our homeworld and destroyed it. That much you already know.

"They seek a student of mine, one gifted with the Aspect of Channeling. Her name is Krystal Haleth, daughter of Haran and Yitana Haleth; the Councilors for our region. I sense that you believe she is dead. This is a great sorrow, yet her body must be recovered. I have remained silent for too long, and perhaps the truth will allow her soul some measure of peace."

"Wait. Are you somehow... controlling her? What's going on?" Dalan's voice held a mixture of surprise, concern, and curiosity. They had been briefed about the supernatural abilities Cerinians possessed; seeing it in action was still quite disconcerting. "I mean, how are you..."

"There is little time for explanation, Thomas Dalan." Chandril's monotone continued. "I appreciate your efforts in saving my life, yet if what I know dies with me all will be lost. Thousands of years ago, Cerinia was linked to another planet. From the information we gathered from your traders, it lies well beyond the reaches of the Lylat System which you call home. We called it the Prime World, the counterbalance of our own. The means of reaching the Prime World was lost in a catastrophe that occurred about three thousand of your years ago. Yet, some relics remain that might allow us to return.

"One of the relics is called the Beacon, a jewel that remains linked to the Prime despite the passage of time. Little is known about it, other than it may serve as a way to travel between worlds. Only a Channeler can unlock its powers, and it was decided long ago to ensure that one Channeler always had access to it in case its use was urgently required. Twelve years ago the previous Channeler was murdered, and there was no choice but to implant it into a young kit. In order to keep her from accessing the Beacon inadvertently a control jewel was also implanted in her body, curbing her abilities until we could train her in their use."

"The kit you did this to was the missing Channeler, Krystal." Pepper's statement filled the room. It made sense, or at least as much sense as it could make to him. A magical jewel that acted as a gateway between worlds? It sounded like a badly-produced fantasy holovid to him, but he wasn't one to rule anything out.

"You are correct, General." Chandril's hijacked voice droned on as Generia's eyes locked onto his. "My duty was to protect the possessor of the Beacon, and in this task I failed miserably. I am aware some of our kind escaped and are safe within your society. Another Channeler may yet be born in the future, and as such recovering the Beacon is vital. I beg of you, recover the Channeler's body and return her to her family. This is the least she deserves for all we have done to her. Do not let the Venomians take her. They will not understand the Beacon's power and will seek to misuse it."

With that Generia let go, collapsing back into the hospital bed with a rattling sigh as the various machines surrounding her started sounding alarms as her vitals started to falter. Chandril recoiled, a sharp gasp echoing her lips as she stared at her former teacher, dumbstruck. At the same time a controlled chaos took over; Dr. Dalen and three orderlies approached Generia's bed, checking the machines intently. "General, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. She's crashing, but there might be a way to pull her out of it." Pepper's thoughts were a blur as he was escorted out into the hallway, another orderly pushing Chandril's hoverchair into the space next to him.

The young Cerinian vixen and the aged Cornerian general regarded each other for a moment, trying to gather their thoughts. It was Pepper that broke the silence. "Are you okay?" It was simple question, but one he needed to ask.

"Shaken." Chandril leaned back in her chair, shivering with the impact of her encounter. "I don't know what to think. There are laws against what she just did to me, but I understand why she had to. It's that... almost everyone I know is dead. All my family and my friends. The only ones who might be alive are Krystal's family and Generia. I hope she will be okay."

Even as versed in diplomacy as he was, a product of the great universities and military academies on Corneria and tempered by years of experience with dealing with Lylat's most powerful citizens, Pepper wasn't exactly sure what to say. This girl sitting next to him had lost pretty much everything. An idea struck him. She needed a distraction. "We will do our absolute best, Miss Etan. In the meantime, you mentioned watching news videos of Star Fox, right?"

The Cerinian nodded at him. "I was much younger, but I do remember them. The heroes who defended your homeworld despite the overwhelming odds against them." She gave a slight blush, the insides of her ears flaring up as she continued. "They made me want to become a pilot, even if it was just one of our shuttles instead of an Arwing."

Pepper gave her a grin. "Truth be told, Fox McCloud was one of your rescuers." Chandril's jaw fell open, her eyes widening at the revelation. "Would you like to meet him?" She managed to nod several times, Pepper taking that as his cue to reach for his communicator.

---

"Point to Fox. Score Two to Two. Next point for the final." Yuri's voice ended the penultimate sparring match. The vulpine pilot extended a hand to Ivan, bringing him to his feet with a nod. Getting hammered by the big canine's fists for a second time caused him to be cautious, and quick reflexes had given him a narrowly won victory.

"A great challenge, McCloud." He offered a satisfied grin as he shifted into his ready stance, the former contractor barely out of breath despite the intense fight. In contrast Fox was slightly winded. He was the one that had to constantly dodge Ivan's powerful blows. While they were even in points, it was readily apparent that he relied on tiring his opponents out before moving in for the kill, as it were. Fox liked to bring things to a quick, decisive end. This would require quick, careful planning.

However the match was ended before it began, cut short by a loud chime from the ship's PA system. Peppy's voice echoed into the gym, almost startling all of them. "Fox, I hate to break this up but I've got George on the line. He says it's urgent. Patching you through now."

"Fox, this is Pepper." The general's voice replaced Peppy's. "I met with the Cerinians just now, and am heading with one of them to the primary conference room. There's been some new developments that I need to discuss with you and the CDI contractors, privately. Are they still there?"

"We are here, General." Yuri replied. "May I ask why our presence is requested?"

"From this point on you're being drafted into the CDF under the Emergency Conscription Clause. You know the background on the Cerinian refugees and we're going to need extra personnel on this. Don't worry about your status at CDI; I've got that covered with my next call."

Fox exchanged puzzled glances with the two contractors. He didn't really like this turn of events, but if that was part of the deal he would go with the flow. "We'll be up there in a few moments, Pepper."

"Good. I'll see you in a few, Fox. Pepper out." The line closed with a single beep, leaving the trio to themselves once more. He was a little miffed at the urgency; after the workout he just got he could have really used a shower. He would settle for swapping into a set of clean clothes and a little more deodorant spray than usual. "I'm going to get dressed. See you guys in the conference room."

---

The conference room was devoid of everything except the table and the decontaminated servers they had recovered from the Venomian prefab. Pepper had the technicians leave them alone, which they were somewhat loathe to do as the CDI contractors entered the room. Chandril, however, glanced up at the two curiously. "You were the two who rescued me from the red ones?" Her voice had improved somewhat, yet the raspy, pained quality reminded Pepper of the treatment she had endured in Venomian custody.

"Yes. I am Ivan Khitrovo. My associate is Yuri Trubachev." He held out his hand for her to shake, which she accepted hesitantly. "We are researchers here at CDI, and former military contractors. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Yuri simply nodded in her direction. "Fox will be here in a few moments, General. Since we are in private, what do you require of us?" As usual, he was more or less direct and to the point.

"We need an extra team to search for the missing Channeler. There have been some recent developments that need to be addressed, and locating her has become a top priority." He motioned to the hoverchair-bound Cerinian. "This is Chandril Etan, a friend of hers. We will wait until Fox gets here to discuss what we now know."

It didn't take long for Fox to arrive. As he entered the room Chandril's eyes widened, unable to stop her excited outburst. "You're really him! Thank you so much for helping us out!" The pilot screeched to a halt at the sight of the beaming, blushing vixen. He offered her a bashful smile and a quick wave, which she enthusiastically returned.

After a quick round of introductions were made(and a little too enthusiastic handshaking from Chandril), Pepper began the briefing. "Okay, so here's what we know at this point. Before lapsing into a coma, the elder Cerinian introduced herself as Generia Vosul, a high priestess who was our missing Channeler's teacher. Apparently, when she was very young she had some sort of relic implanted into her as well as something to block her from using it. It was insinuated that this relic acted as a gateway of sorts between Cerinia and another world. Whatever it is, this Beacon, as she called it, could prove quite dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Obviously, we need to recover her body as quickly as possible."

"That's why you needed our help." Yuri stated in his normal, neutral tone. "However, this Beacon story is a little hard to believe. Is this 'gateway' linked to a specific planet in Lylat? If so, do we know where it is?"

Pepper shook his head. "She specifically said they checked and that it was well outside the Lylat System. While the prospect of a populated planet outside of our cluster will be of major interest to the scientific community at large, we can't worry about that right now. Our primary objective is to recover Miss Haleth and ensure her remains are not taken by the Remnant."

"Has the SAR Team plotted out any likely areas that her craft could be located?" Fox's question prompted nods from the CDI contractors. They were on the same datasheet, at least.

Pepper responded by punching some commands on the conference table's terminal. A display flickered to life, a basic map of the Lylat System taking shape in front of them. The entire system was comprised of several separate solar systems in a relatively tightly-grouped star cluster. The map zoomed out considerably, pointing to another much smaller star cluster which indicated Cerinia's location. "Slippy's data gave a few degrees of variation. Depending on how badly her ship was losing fuel, we're looking at a likely search area of this."

Pepper punched a few more controls, the display centering upon Lylat. An inverted cone shape appeared, highlighted in blue and converging on Aquas. It terminated in the Fringe areas and mostly covered open space. At the sight of the map, Fox let out a quick sigh. "Even with two teams, there's so much variation. We know her ion trail, but it's a single dead ship. Other than Aquas, what other planets or stations are within this area?

Pepper was quick to answer that. "We compiled a list. We have Aquas, several of our military bases, and a scattered handful of corporate mining and research facilities. This station is among them. We've asked for sensor logs from each of these stations and none have logged a matching ion trail or slipspace echo matching the target vessel. There are eight freeports which could be checked, as well as the planet Sauria."

Ivan scratched his chin. "I see a possible strategy here. The _Great Fox_has better sensor technology than our ship. If Yuri and I checked out the freeports as well as this planet, that would give Star Fox the opportunity to start sensor scans of her possible exit vector. Once we rule the fixed stations out, we then join the search pattern. If we can find her vector at the source, it will simply be a matter of following it to her craft."

Fox glanced at the two, yet his skepticism was replaced by a thoughtful expression. "That is a pretty sound plan. I'd say it would take you four or five days to get through all the stations?"

"That's rather accurate, especially with the time needed to get good scans of the stations." Pepper nodded to the map. "Take special care around Sauria, however. The Ranger reports I read mentioned the planet was breaking up and was surrounded by a dense asteroid field."

"May I say something?" Chandril's voice entered the conversation, yet her previous enthusiasm was replaced with a more somber tone. When nobody objected she continued. "As Krystal's friend it's my duty to accompany her final journey. May I go with one of you?"

Fox paused for a moment, caught between wanting to remain friendly and being concerned about an unknown civilian on board his ship, especially one who grew up on the holovids about his glory days. Yet, the sneaking feeling the decision wasn't exactly his to make became quite apparent. Pepper gestured to him, the words he was expecting being asked of him. "You have a guest stateroom available, right? Taking her along would be an excellent gesture of good faith."

"You're right, sir. I'll call Peppy and get the stateroom prepped." Fox glanced at Chandril, who had a slightly worried look on her features. It meshed perfectly with his thoughts. Somewhere deep down he just knew this mission wouldn't be as simple as their plan made it out to be.

Ivan and Yuri shared quarters on the space station. It was quite sparsely furnished and undecorated, lending the air that they considered it a temporary living situation. The few others to visit them over the past two years had absolutely no idea how true that really was.

Two suitcases sat on the living room floor, being hastily packed with personal effects; comprised mostly of spare clothing. The only items of note were now sitting on the duraplast coffee table, twin lockboxes of a brand known for their high quality and great expense. Ivan punched in a very lengthy code, allowing the box to open with a soft beep. The box's lock disengaged with a barely perceptible hum, revealing contents that wouldn't have been very familiar to any casual Lylatian observer.

"I still have no idea how you have managed to smuggle those damn things everywhere over the past twelve years, Ivan." Yuri's voice was mixed with equal measures of awe and disgust. "They were against regulations when you took them from that arms smuggler, and you couldn't even make ammunition for them until recently. I thought someone of your rank would have been beyond that."

"I am simply a collector, Yuri. Nothing less and nothing more. These are very rare and novel weapons in the West, and to know the enemy's tools is to know the enemy." As he spoke he lifted a blocky, black sidearm from the lockbox and checked it. Despite its age and use in a few desperate situations over the years it was in immaculate condition. Satisfied it was in perfect order, he extracted a larger, two-toned pistol from the case and examined it with the air of a master craftsman. "And I continue to tell you, I know what I heard on that recording. It wasn't a Kalash."

"The recording was shit, Ivan. All we know is that they were given the rifles we designed for these star-faring capitalists. They could easily be a modified design." Yuri shook his head as he opened his lockbox, taking out a long, gray overcoat and a worn leather wallet from its confines.

"Unknown type, Yuri. That's what she said. They had and were trained on our rifles by that bastard boss of ours. They would have recognized a modified Kalash. You forget I tested some of that smuggler's wares after I took him down. He had plenty of Western rifles to choose from, which is what it sounded like. You must admit there is a possibility. This girl possessing the Beacon being accompanied by someone else? She might not know how to use it but it is possible that they managed to get the device working after what happened to us."

"And you somehow think the Special Projects Committee would let something of that magnitude be sold to the West? After the years they spent figuring out how it worked in the first place? The years of hiding it from everyone else?" Yuri shook his head. "Preposterous."

"It's been twelve years at least! We don't even know if there is a home left to go back to!" Ivan removed a few small boxes from his container and placed them in his suitcase, opting to wrap the two pistols within several old shirts. One of them was treated with nearly religious reverence despite its plain pattern of narrow alternating bands of black and white. "Despite our disagreement over who her companion might be, the plan is simple. Find her, visit Grafter, and have her use the Beacon. She gets to live, and we will be able to go home."

"Deceptively simple, Ivan. I wish to return as much as you, yet we need to factor in any problems that might occur." Yuri shut his lockbox after placing everything in the suitcase. They would not be back. "Venom agents will be looking for her. Her 'companion' may be a group of pirates. We will throw the Cornerians as far off the trail as possible, but we cannot let them find her first. We must be prepared, Comrade Major."

"We will, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel. We will." Ivan's expression was grim as he patted the cloth-covered firearms. "Just answer me this one question. Which is worse, the Cornerian capitalists or the Venom fascists? If we have to appease one enemy, which one will it be?"

"That will be a problem we will deal with when we get to it, Ivan." Yuri shook his head as he lifted his packed suitcase. "For now, give Grafter a call. It is time for him to earn the small fortune we gave him all those years ago."