It was abnormally cold on the cruiser that day, so uncomfortable that it demanded artificial heat. As close as they hovered to the inner atmosphere of Titania they still fell prey to the changing of temperatures, and they supposed Lylat's second planet was nearing its cycle of coldest weather. Granted, Titania's coldest day was considered mild on planets such as Fortuna or Corneria, but out in space everything seemed to fluctuate after awhile. The only good aspect afforded by the cold was an approximation of the time; it had been roughly six months since the fall of Andross.
'Far too long a time to be exiled upon this miserable bucket of rust with the same people,' thought Leon to himself, padding down the primary hall in search of the heating mechanism and hugging himself for added warmth. Natural chameleon physiology told him that it was far too cold for him to stay comfortable for long, for in truth it had roused him from sleep. The rest of the cruiser was quiet, but whether because his other wingmates were still asleep themselves or silently plotting some wicked scheme, he did not know.
Upon reaching the dial which controlled heating and cooling on the cruiser Leon adjusted the temperature to increase ten degrees, and when nothing happened he cursed and banged at it with a fist. Just a few days ago the engine repair warnings had kicked in; a few months ago they could have landed on the planet they were orbiting and fixed it easily, but now the Loyalists were attempting to colonize there and make the planet habitable.
"Nothing on this pile of dung works," Leon muttered darkly to himself, and he threw up his hands in defeat and backtracked for his room. Once there he didn't begin his meditating exercises as normally he would have, instead collapsing on his small bed and flinging an arm over his eyes.
Leon Powalski was by no means physically imposing, matching five feet three inches and making him the smallest of the four Star Wolf mercenaries. He tended to correct this shortcoming by making himself the embodiment of cruel intentions, caring little for anyone in particular and wearing a perfect unreadable mask of cold indifference and nonchalance. An outsider who did not know him would see him as aloof and overconfident, but if he ever seemed the latter it was wrought of chiseled experience, and the former was a perk afforded by having his talents. His eyes shone a glittering onyx, made lustrous with malicious intent; they were eyes that saw everything, no matter how cryptic or confusing, and asked no favors. For all his dark talents at stealth and assassination his age usually remained a mystery, and most days he himself found it hard to believe that he had only just turned eighteen.
Vaguely it dawned on him that he was hungry again, having only eaten once the previous day; ignoring the sensation he rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes.
Somehow he defied the chill in the air and passed back into a light sleep, and in that sleep he dreamed. Over the months the four of them had spent hovering in space Leon had often contemplated Pigma Dengar's betrayal of James McCloud and Peppy Hare, and now those thoughts pursued him in his dreamlike state.
Nearly fourteen years ago General Aronius Pepper, top figure of the Loyalist regime, had turned to a three-man mercenary squad near the end of the first Lylat War, and to the surprise of all place all faith in them to end the threat that was Andross. They were the best of friends; James had worked as an assassin for Pepper for nearly five years, and Peppy and Pigma were close companions who had attended the prestigious Cornerian Flight Academy.
In the course of their tenure together it was clear that no one of their caliber could be found on the opposing end, something that Andross recognized almost immediately. Preying on Pigma's pride and insatiable greed he offered the swine an offer he could never refuse, ultimate power and reverence on the winning side, with just one condition - that he betray the Loyalists altogether and head the rise of the Venomian Separatists.
As the trio of mercenaries closed in on Andross, Pigma was shot down on the surface of the planet they now orbited, and being the kind-hearted man that he was James ordered the advance to delay until he had retrieved his fallen comrade. Little did he know that Pigma had already made plans to leave them behind once and for all, and in a situation from which there could be no escape.
With Pigma rescued Star Fox pressed onward through every last Venomian defense, coming at last to Andross's very doorstep. When all seemed won Pigma at last played his hand, selling James and Peppy over to the Venomian lord with hardly a thought. But a flaw remained yet in the entire plot, for with untold valor James battled Andross to his last, giving his own life to see Peppy escape.
Leon opened his eyes, wondering if he had dreamed it all or if his imagination was so vivid he could actually see it. Turning to lay flat on his back he gazed up at the ceiling, mulling it all over.
Six months. Six months they had condemned themselves to a cramped and smothered lifestyle aboard a cruiser that was technically a transport ship, therefore life was increasingly miserable in such an enclosed space. Rations were running out; the engines were failing, and all the events of late stretched everyone's patience. Once Wolf had even considered landing to restock their supplies, but Leon, usually the quiet voice of reason, had convinced him not to. Their main problem, he had reminded, was still their treacherous comrade Pigma.
They had thought their colleagues' days of traitorism quite over, for how could Andross lose when he had thrown down the Loyalist rabble for the first time? Unfortunately they had all underestimated the enormity of Celestra's abandon, her willingness to give everything to see Andross fall, and that had cost them the war. After that they had exiled themselves to the cruiser to spare themselves the humiliation of public denouncement and execution, and Pigma's true colors had begun to show. He seemed always caught up in his own inner plots, talking nervously to himself whenever he thought the others weren't near enough to hear, and it seemed perfectly clear that he meant to betray them, if only to save himself.
Time had continued to snail by, though, and Pigma wasn't the patient type; Leon and Wolf both assumed he had merely gotten cold feet and abandoned any ridiculous thoughts of revolt. If he was going to act he would have acted already, Wolf had once told him.
Leon frowned up at the ceiling. As far as he was concerned they should pitch Pigma out into deep space and let his lungs collapse like he deserved. Wolf's reasoning, though, was that if the Loyalists ever discovered them they would need to stick by each other to survive. A shuffling sound reached his ears, and he sat up quickly to discern the source of the noise. Wolf was standing in the doorway, clutching a wrench and wiping his forehead with a rag.
"The heater died earlier this morning," he told his comrade with a scowl. "I've been up for hours trying to fix it."
"Where's Dengar?" Leon asked quickly, pulling on a tank top over his head and absently popping his neck. This question was normally asked before any serious conversation began between the two.
"In the brig, trying to detail the engine status." Motioning for the smaller mercenary to follow Wolf set off down the hall again. "He's unnaturally compliant today; it makes me nervous." As they neared the heating and cooling mechanism he added, "By the way, according to the radar Loyalist numbers have depleted greatly since yesterday; it looks like they're pulling out and going home."
Leon feigned surprise, although he had assumed from the start this would occur. "The colonization is complete already?"
Wolf lowered himself to the floor and slid under the bulky machinery, so that Leon was left only with his lower half, but a muffled reply could be heard. "I doubt it. It's more likely that they decided to keep Titania as a class-R inhospitable planet and left to save some lives, just like you originally figured. If Andross couldn't make an outpost on Titania at the height of his power, there's no way in hell Pepper could ever make it a safe place to live." The pair of them fell silent, brooding, and occasionally Leon passed his mercenary leader an extra tool.
"Have you seen Andrew yet today?" Leon mused, realizing with a start that he had not.
"Sure, I . . . " After a moment Wolf wheeled himself back into plain view, hastily wiping oil from his face. "No that you mention it, I haven't seen him since last night."
Even as it dawned on them that they had been outsmarted, a horrible shudder rocked the transport cruiser and Leon nearly lost his balance. Wolf staggered to his feet, pitching sideways into the wall, and as the shaking lessened they exchanged a knowing, infuriated glance.
"Damn us for being so careless!" Wolf growled low in the back of his throat, throwing the wrench at the wall with all his might.
"We've been had," Leon replied simply, and they sprinted off together for the docking bay.
"They're going to kill us," Andrew pointed out for perhaps the fifth time, loading what was left of the meager rations into the cargo area of his single-man aircraft. "And when they find out where we've gone, they'll hunt us down until we're dead."
Pigma snarled threateningly; Andrew quickly fell silent. "Why do you think I blew the engines out, you fool? Even if they survive the crash, the Loyalists will apprehend them at once. It's a foolproof getaway; no matter what, they lose."
"DENGAR!" bellowed an enraged voice, and turning the two conspirators saw Wolf and Leon sprinting into the docking bay with livid anger etched into their faces. Andrew yelped and ducked down into his cockpit; Pigma rose, cradling a massive neuron rifle, and took aim. The blast took Wolf in the arm, sending him spiraling to the cold metal floor with a grunt, and he clapped his opposite hand over the wound reflexively.
Dark eyes glittering with malice, Leon sprinted past his kneeling mercenary leader and on ahead with Pigma in his sights. Even though he was weaponless he didn't feel any trepidation; if he could get close enough, he could throttle the swine with his bare hands with no effort at all. Pigma took aim and fired at Leon, a low shot aimed for the chameleon's ankles that was meant only to trip him up; Leon set his left foot firmly behind his right and pivoted the opposite direction, graceful as a ballet dancer, and whirled around in time to sidestep another blast that nearly took him full in the chest. This second blast, missing him completely, blindsided Wolf in the thigh, and growling he raised his head and shouted, "Leon, stop! Let them go!"
Leon was disappearing even as he ran forward, clearly planning to attack their treacherous wingmate from the realm of invisibility. Face contorted in concentration and rage he turned his head and shouted, "Are you mad! They're getting away!"
"Let them! We're unarmed and I can't help you!" Leon turned back to Pigma, nearly impossible to see now as Wolf continued, "We've got to save this ship before it nosedives!" Still the chameleon ignored him, determined to exact revenge before the time had passed, and with a ragged breath the lupine shrieked after him, "LEON! YOU SWORE ALLEGIANCE TO THIS TEAM, AND I AM STILL YOUR SUPERIOR! I ORDER YOU TO STOP!"
With a wince at Wolf's tone Leon glanced back; his mercenary leader was struggling to rise several paces behind, panting for breath, but the look in his single blue eye begged for him to honor the request. With a curse he restored his skin to its natural brilliant green shade, backtracking to Wolf's side with his hands up in a clear sign of surrender and keeping his eyes on Pigma at all times. At this Pigma threw the weapon into the rear of the spacecraft and lowered himself into the cockpit.
"I told you this wasn't over!" exclaimed the swine, and his eyes seemed to laugh at them in a cruel, superior manner. "The days of Andross will be renewed, and you'll regret ever telling me otherwise!" The glass cockpit came down then, snuffing out Pigma's voice, and the twin spacecraft blasted out of the two open hangars and jumped immediately into hyperspace, making it impossible for anyone to track their progress.
"Damn!" shouted Wolf, accepting Leon's hand and climbing unsteadily to his feet. "This is worse than I thought; they want to raise the Seperatists back into power and resurrect Andross." Without waiting for any reply the lupine set off for the control room, and Leon hurried to keep up. "We've got to move fast if we want to stop them!"
I must not have heard you correctly," Leon snapped, running to match Wolf's infuriated stride. "Did you just suggest working against them? If they resurrect Andross and we help them, we'll be in his highest favor."
Turning threateningly Wolf grabbed the chameleon's shoulders, shaking him furiously, and Leon blinked once in mild surprise. "That is exactly what I do not want! Skulking around in shadows, doing his dirty work day-in and day-out, fighting for the losing team and knowing it? Forget it, Leon!" They entered the control room, and sure enough the cruiser was already spiraling out-of-control for Titania's surface. "I'm sick of all of it, and I'm going to do something about it for once! Pigma and Andrew betrayed us and left us to die, right? Do you want to let them get away with that?"
"Not necessarily, no, but I'm not certain that turning our backs on the lifestyle we've known our whole lives is a healthy solution," Leon countered calmly, crossing his arms somewhat defensively.
Wolf sat down in the pilot's chair, buckling himself in as securely as possible and running vitals on the transport ship. "That was my thought at first, but you have to look at it from a certain point of view. Those two didn't hesitate to leave us behind, did they? We were as strong as we have ever been when Andross was still in power and we still wound up the losers, didn't we? What better way to pay them back then by forsaking them altogether and spoiling their plans?"
While belting himself into the chair adjacent his mercenary leader Leon finally understood the proposal. "You want to be a Loyalist!" he accused, aghast.
"No, not necessarily. Pigma is expecting us to die in a crash in no more than five minutes, and while I'm not saying we won't, think of all we could do to repay him his betrayal. We'll follow him, Leon, you and I; think of it! Those two were always a detriment to the team anyway, but you and I together can get through anything! We'll track their every step, hear their every word, and when they think they're one step closer to bringing about some rogue Separatist uprising . . ." Wolf snapped his fingers in finality. "We'll whip them down to their knees like worms."
Leon remained silent, considering all Wolf had offered very carefully. In light of what had just happened he had to admit that he was very reluctant to trust anyone right now, but Wolf had always been a steadfast and clever commander to whom he could relate. Wolf took the delay for an answer as an outright refusal, so he sneered, "Look, I'm ready to give everything to keep Pigma from winning in the end, alright? I'll admit, I'd rather die than see Andross resurrected and placed back in a seat of power, because in all my five years of subservience he treated me like a weapon of destruction instead of a person. I want to live my life, Leon; I don't want to hide and continue to breathe anymore, like I have been for the past half-year." Here he extended a hand to his comrade, who merely stared at it blankly. "You're either with me or against me; what's it going to be?"
Impact warnings flared to life all along the helm, searing at Leon's sensitive ears, but his eyes never left Wolf's face. The lupine was deathly serious, fully prepared for any consequences; his facial expression was one of eerie calm, and Leon knew he was not kidding around at all. So he surrendered to the devious plot, thrusting his hand forward in acceptance, and prepared himself for all the endeavors yet to come.
The transport ship collided with the ivory sands with enough force to knock them both unconscious.
"Well, we lucked out - it's a minor Fortunan envoy, en route for capital city K'yorin within the hour, but bound for Daxter - a suburb of Titus, capital city of Fortuna - the next day. It's a risky stowaway target, but I think we can manage as long as we stay put and don't get off on Corneria. Daxter should do nicely."
Leon had just melted out of his invisibility and was briefing Wolf on their first order of business. They had considered killing the entire crew and hijacking the envoy for themselves, but they hadn't the time to piece together such a delicate assassination and there was always the matter of how to dispose of the bodies. They were huddled behind an enormous boulder, hot and thirsty but only bearing minimal injuries, waiting for the opportunity to sneak aboard; they had abandoned their ruined cruiser upon waking just to be safe, but even if it was discovered it couldn't be traced back to them without serial numbers or licensing information. Both were unarmed but overlooked that as a detail, for they didn't even assume to fight to gain passage.
Wolf squinted around the rock, craning his neck for a better view. "An ideal docking location. How will I board? Obviously you'll be invisible."
"I'll cause some minor distraction, tip over some boxes or the like in the cargo room. You can board in the confusion." With utmost calm Leon disappeared, and Wolf pulled a hood over his head to hide his features. "Just be ready when it's time."
Wolf studiously watched the envoy for signs of distress, hoping his only companion would have no difficulty executing a diversion. As he perused the exterior of the Fortunan cruiser he was struck with a terrible thrill of foreboding, for the name Ambassador was etched proudly on the side.
Ambassador - the personal cruiser of Sensenic Morray, third-in-command of the entire Loyalist regime!
"Oh, no . . . "
Even as he whispered this the craft's plasma lasers started firing, lancing away across the sands and narrowly missing a makeshift encampment; shouting could be heard from all around, and as shiphands began to disappear within the lupine rose and sprinted toward the entrance. Wending his way quickly yet stealthily through a pair of secondary hallways he reached the cargo area without incident, sinking into a covered position among a mountain of boxes.
"Do you know, I've just had a marvelous idea," came a voice from his left, and Leon materialized back into vision, thoroughly startling his comrade.
"Yes, and so have I!" Wolf whispered harshly. "It's called getting the hell off this ship! This is Morray's ship; if he catches us, it's straight to Pepper, and the gallows!"
"Yes, I realized that. I brushed within inches of him on my way to the helm. Relax, won't you? I'll continue to patrol the halls - invisible, of course - while we make our way to our destination. No one will see you, as long as you keep quiet." Wolf nodded, still unnerved, and Leon continued, "As long as we're getting the perfect revenge, why not seek some additional help?"
"From who?"
"I've got just the person." Leon rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Who hates Dengar as much as we do?"
"Fox McCloud!" Wolf moaned, and he seemed disgusted at the thought.
"A good possibility, but no. Who better to aid us in our revenge than Reivin's murderer and Andross's most hated rival?"
Wolf's eye widened as he instantly shook his head. "I refuse! We spent our entire tenure as mercenaries in an attempt to kill - "
"This is different. Don't you see? Pigma Dengar's head would be a trophy for the Loyalists to wave around, seeing as how he betrayed Fox's father to end the first war. There's no way she could refuse when we say we could hand her Corneria's Traitor."
Now Wolf was grinning slightly, seeing the beauty behind the choice. "What if she attacks us?"
"After hearing our proposition, how could she?" Leon responded simply.
Beneath them they felt the envoy shudder to life, and they knew they had lifted from the ground and started on the way to Corneria. Wolf nodded once to Leon condescendingly, then settled back against a few large boxes to rest.
Who better to help them hunt down and fight Pigma Dengar than Celestra Marquette?
