[The Yoshimaster]

Here's another part to the story. As Slippy would say, "Things are starting to heat up!"

VIII

Fox walked briskly through the golden hall of the Ritz Corneria, the most glamorous ballroom in Corneria City. He turned to the reflective marble wall on his left, and watched his distorted reflection: an orange Fox, with hints of gray hair in his head, dressed in a tuxedo and carrying a speech paper in his gloved hand.

If I saw myself like this twenty years ago, Fox said to himself, I would have put a blaster to my head to prevent it from occurring. Fox recalled with a laugh how he and his fellow Star Fox team members had declined dressing formally for the celebration of the defeat of Andross, wearing instead their grimy, tattered piloting clothes. Why Pepper liked them so much, Fox had no idea.

When he reached the door to the main ballroom, the butler there acknowledged him with a smile, and politely opened the door. Fox walked inside.

The room was large and already festive, as much as a formal party could be. Gossip could be heard coming from the mouths of carefree officers’ wives, and so could the hearty laughter of fat cat politicians.

“Would you care for a drink, sir?” asked a waiter, holding a plate of champagne glasses. Fox took a glass with a thank-you smile.

“Ah! Fox McCloud! So good of you to join us!”

It was Pepper, also dressed in a tuxedo, holding his second glass of champagne in his right paw. Behind him was a frog, popping an hors d’oeuvre in his mouth.

“Hello, Pepper,” Fox said.

“Oh, Fox,” Pepper said, gesturing to the frog. “I’d like you to meet Commodore Jerry Python.”

Fox shook the frog’s hand with a smile and a “How do you do.”

“He’ll be commanding a fleet beneath you in the soon-to-be navy,” Pepper said. Jerry nodded assent.

“Good!” Fox said cheerfully, taking a sip from his glass. “So, what kind of experience do you have?”

Jerry cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “I am a native of Aquas, and there, I was admiral of the local navy for ten years. Also, I might add, my father fought Andross on both Aquas and Zoness.”

“No kidding?” Fox said, fighting the urge to point out that Jerry’s father lost both battles.

“Yes,” Jerry said. “He was a real war hero. So was my uncle, who actually managed to board one of Andross’s capital ships and…”

But something else had captured Fox’s attention, something he caught sight of briefly before it was obscured by more careless guests.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Fox said, patting the frog on the back. He walked across the ballroom, excusing himself as he bumped into and squeezed through various guests, until reaching his destination, only to discover that the object of his attention had disappeared. Before he could ponder its existence, a finger tapped his shoulder, and upon turning around, saw it before him.

“Krystal!” he cried.

Krystal McCloud, dressed in an elegant white dress, smiled happily. “Hello, Fox,” she said. Fox noticed that her accent was still not fully polished, but he didn’t care. He lunged forward and embraced Krystal tightly.

“Oh, Krystal, it’s been too long!” he muttered. “You look great!”

“You do, too,” Krystal said. “How have you been?” But before Fox could respond, Krystal started laughing.

“What is it?” Fox said, alarmed.

“Listen to us!” Krystal exclaimed. “We sound like old friends, not husband and wife.”

Fox chuckled, shaking his head with a blush. Then, as he watched, Krystal was joined by Falco Lombardi, then Slippy Toad, and finally, Alec Falan.

“Hey, McCloud,” Falco said, gulping down a glass of wine. “Nice tux.”

“Nice leather jacket,” Fox replied. “Did you actually wash it just for this ceremony?”

“Nah,” Falco said, letting the gambit slide. “I like how it is. Washing it makes it seem foreign.”

Fox shook his head. “Well, what are you guys doing here? I haven’t even heard from you in almost a year! And, after all, I know you’re still not happy with the idea of me being an officer…”

“Oh, come on, Fox,” Krystal said, with her nagging tone of voice. “Do you really think we’d give you the cold shoulder for so long? We know this is an important time for you, and would spare no expense to come and see you!”

“Yeah,” Falco said wryly. “We wouldn’t miss seeing you screw up in the middle of your speech for the world!”

“Well,” Slippy said, speaking for the first time, “I wanted to see some of the blueprints of future naval ships in the art gallery. That stuff is fascinating! Of course, seeing you become an admiral is priceless, too. I guess.”

Fox laughed, and turned to Alec Falan. “And how’ve you been, Alec?” he asked.

The cat shrugged. “Ok, I guess,” he said.

Fox shook his head and smiled. He was a shy kid, but from what Fox had seen and heard, Alec was one terrific pilot.

A high-pitched squeal came from the front of the ballroom, causing all to cover their ears. It ended a moment later, and Pepper, standing at the microphone, began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m glad you could all come,” he began. “As you know, our biggest goal in recent history was to establish a third branch of the military: a navy. And, for those of you carefully following sessions of the Senate, you know how badly the odds were stacked against us that we would achieve this goal. But, thanks to several persuasive speeches, including Mr. Fox McCloud over there, we managed to change the minds of many pessimist senators and win the approval of two-thirds of the Senate. And now, in front of everybody tonight, I would like to introduce the admiral of the Cornerian Navy. Fox McCloud!”

Applause filled Fox’s ears as he held up his speech paper in his right hand. Falco elbowed him in the ribs.

“Break a leg, Fox,” Falco said. “Or an arm, whichever suits the moment.”

Fox walked down the ballroom to the stage, where Pepper was gesturing to him. Fox stepped up to the microphone, put the speech paper on the podium, cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to speak. Just then, there was a sudden commotion at the entrance of the ballroom, where a pig had come bursting through with a look of terror on his face.

“There’s been an explosion outside!” he shouted. “One of the docking platforms! Platform 18, it looks like!”

Falco grimaced, Krystal gasped, and Slippy put his hands to his face. To Fox, the collective gesture said one thing.

“That’s ours.”

IX

The Star Fox team stood at the edge of existence, dressed in formal wear and looking down into an abyss. Fox came running behind them, stopped with a heavy heave of breath, crouched down, and looked.

The bridge connecting the docking platform to the building had been severed, leaving the edge black and mangled. That alone was a sign that the explosion left nothing intact. Fox leaned forward, only to see the Great Fox, laying in a thousand blackened pieces on the ground, four stories down.

Fox stood up slowly. He took a careful glance at the Star Fox team near him. Their reactions were varied. Krystal looked horrified, although not in any way showing signs of emotional distraught. Falco was definitely pissed, clenching both fists and shaking them at his side. Alec was as horrified as Krystal was, although his was more out of fear. But Slippy, dear old Slippy, took it the hardest. He had been with the ship the longest, and as a technical guy, his attachment to the Great Fox was akin to that of an old friend. Tears streamed freely down Slippy’s face, and his big lips quivered.

“Sabotaged,” Pepper growled from behind.

“I don’t know how,” Krystal said weakly. “We didn’t tell anybody where we were going, and we left for Corneria rather suddenly…”

“Why!” Slippy bawled. “Why would they do such a thing? I mean, we were obviously not on board, so if they wanted to kill us…” He fell to his knees and put his hands over his eyes, sobbing. Krystal and Fox watched him with pity.

“They got the damn Arwings,” Falco muttered with a grimace. “And… ROB.”

“We will compensate you for your loss, I assure you,” Pepper said, putting his hand on Falco’s shoulder. “We have lots of Arwings, all state-of-the-art…”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Falco’s voice was like acid, actually causing Pepper to recoil.

“Listen,” Fox said to Krystal. “You guys can stay with me, while we investigate this. It’s a nice place. It’ll help you take your minds off this for a while.”

Krystal nodded. Fox turned to walk back to the ballroom, while the Star Fox team continued to stare at the wreckage.

Suddenly, Falco crouched down, turning his head so one eye looked down. “What in the…” He trailed off, turned around and disappeared. A few minutes later, he appeared again four floors down, coming through the door nearest the wreckage.

“Falco, what are you doing?” Krystal called.

Falco didn’t respond. He climbed over and through the wreckage, until he reached a chunk of the landing platform. He bent down beside it and picked up a small, black object. He twirled it in his fingers, examining it.

“What is it?” Krystal called.

“An eye patch,” came the reply.

X

“Star Wolf?” Pepper cried. “You think Star Wolf is behind this?”

Pepper and the Star Fox team were sitting around a glass coffee table in Fox’s penthouse, while Fox himself was busy preparing hot drinks for them all.

“Want to see the patch again?” Falco said, holding up the black piece of cloth.

“I saw it,” Pepper said irritably. “It doesn’t prove a thing. I’m sure there are thousands of scumbags out there who wear eye patches.”

“Are there any other scumbags with eye patches out to settle a vendetta with us?” Slippy retorted.

Pepper cleared his throat and leaned back. “Look,” he said. “Have you guys forgotten the work you did on them on Venom? You say you sent all Wolfen II’s to the ground. And even if one of them managed to survive the crash, there’s no way they’d survive outside the security of their aircraft. Venom is a harsh planet, you see, with an atmosphere of noxious gases and a terrain of brittle rock. Now, here we are, twenty-some years later. No one has heard of Star Wolf since Venom. You really think they just popped up out of nowhere and trashed your ship?”

“Just because no one has heard of you,” said Falco, “Doesn’t mean you don’t exist. You guys haven’t heard or seen from us for years. And yet, here we are.”

Fox came from the kitchen with a platter of hot cider. Everyone took a cup. Fox sat down in a lounge chair near the table.

“Fox,” Pepper said, after placing his cup on the table, “You’re a reasonable person. You manage to fit logic in everything you do, be it fighting in the fray of a space battle, or persuading a Senate to permit the induction of a navy. Do you think it’s possible that Star Wolf is still alive and at large?”

Fox took a sip from his cup, leaned back, and sighed. “Logic tells me no,” he said. “But if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that logic doesn’t always apply. For years as a child, I was told that dinosaurs no longer exist. Yet, I found myself on a dinosaur planet, where most of the dinosaurs actually talked. Then, a while later, I encountered Andross in orbit over the planet. I saw Andross perish on Venom, so logic would tell me that he was long dead. But he wasn’t. So. Could Star Wolf be alive? If this is one of those cases where logic doesn’t apply, then, yes, they could be alive.”

The room was silent. Then, Falco said, “Well put, McCloud.”

Pepper snorted. “Well, I won’t accept that explanation just yet.” He stood up, stretched his arms and yawned. “We’ll begin the investigation first thing tomorrow morning. Mr. Lombardi, Mrs. McCloud, don’t you worry, I’ll have four of my best Arwings delivered to you, as well as a transport until you get yourselves another ship. In the meantime, I must be going. Farewell.”

Pepper walked off. The slam of a door was heard in the background.

“He didn’t even try your nice cider!” Slippy cried.

Fox chuckled. “Just add water, Slip,” he said. When Slippy looked confused, Fox tossed him an empty packet of powder.

“Ah,” said Slippy, standing up. “Well, I should be goin’ to bed, too. G’night, everybody!”

XI

Admiral Moss sat in his private quarters on board the Harbinger. It was now day two of his journey to Lylat, and if his scientists’ calculations were correct, they should be arriving any moment now. He put his hands to his chin, crossed his legs, and waited.

As if on cue, the intercom by his seat switched on. “Admiral Moss, we are entering the Lylat system now,” the officer said.

“Good. Bring the ship out of light speed and send the orders for the fleet to assemble.” He switched the intercom off, stood up, and left the room.

When he made it to the main bridge, every order had been executed. The main view port showed star-speckled space, instead of the indecipherable mess hyperspace had to offer. Outside, he saw the glorious Karzen fleet, waiting patiently in perfect formation. Moss recalled with pride the stats of his fleet. Twenty capital ships, the Harbinger included. One hundred and fifty frigates, ships a fifth of the size of capital ships, but with greater firepower, were there, as well as several small transports. Then there were the fighters, the ships that really made the fleet. There were twenty thousand interceptors, thirty thousand defenders, five thousand bombers, and one thousand scouts, distributed evenly within the one hundred and seventy larger ships.

If they didn’t win through cunning, they would surely win through the advantage of numbers.

“All, right, commander,” Moss said. “Remember the plan. A fourth of our forces are to be sent to Macbeth, where they will provide a feint attack. Frigates and interceptors are to provide the bulk of that attack force; we want to save the majority of our bombers for the real target. Now, another fourth of the fleet, the Harbinger included, will stay here as backup and a buffer between Karzen and Lylat.

“The remaining half of our fleet will go to the target planet: Katina. They have their orders; the bombers are to destroy buildings and ships, while living targets should be left,” and Moss nodded towards the transports, hidden among the giant frigates and capital ships in the fleet, “to Mr. Krumptin’s ‘Blitz Forces.’ Carry out the orders, commander.”

The commander did so. Within moments, the fleet’s size had shrunk considerably. Moss smiled.

“Allow me to propose a toast, gentlemen,” he said to the officers on the bridge. “I feel another victory coming along.”

The officers laughed heartily, and applauded Moss while he took out another sealed bottle of champagne.