One day, I'll stop writing about the end of the Lylat Wars but today is not that day.
I had actually not intended to release this for a LONG time as I had another fic planned to introduce one of the original characters in this. But I have no idea when I'll get around to that fic and this story was laying heavy on my mind, so I decided to just go ahead and write what I was inspired to write.
As a note, I changed my headcanon for General Pepper's first name. Instead of Cornelius, it is now Zachary, due to some lore tidbits found from the SNES Star Fox.
Also this first chapter features a retelling of the celebration sequence in SF64 and SF Zero, because I thought, given the circumstances, they were both quite lackluster in-game.
Part I: One Missed Call
We've waited for this day for a long time.
In his office, General Zachary Pepper looked over himself in the mirror, straightening the golden war medal pinned to his crimson uniform. He corrected his posture, fiddled with his collar, and glanced down to his general's hat sitting on his desk behind him and to his right. It was almost show time. The hound eyed his reflection once more, giving it that stern, commanding officer look he had practiced throughout the decades. It was a real hit with the paparazzi. He knew as soon as he stepped out of his office doors, a million lights and cameras would be on him. Silently, he steeled himself for it—inhaling and exhaling a few breaths in mental preparation. This life had never been easy for him, no matter what the media said. He never understood why they had made him the leader. It had all just… happened.
He wandered to his desk, picking up his hat. A few pictures caught his eye—pictures he looked at every day but never really contemplated. Seeing them every time he was in the office dulled his appreciation for them except in those rare sentimental moments. He felt himself slip into nostalgia, drowning in the bittersweet as he picked up the first picture frame.
The first was a photo of himself, Peppy, and James. They were each donned in the evergreen and cream of Corneria's army uniform, their helmets tucked under their arms. Younger, happier smiles existed in those photos. That had been before their first war, when their duties had been confined to protecting the colonization process on Zoness. They had only seen skirmishes back then, minor fights between the locals and the Cornerians. Critics had called the army's presence there a "bane upon the planet" but with its booming economy there, the critics had suspiciously gone silent. Zachary would have liked to think he had helped with that.
The next photo was a Pepper family portrait. He had just entered the academy when the portrait had been taken, young with a dashing smile. In his suit jacket, he looked like a mirror of his own father, who stood just slightly taller than him. Zachary was squished between his two brothers—Gideon and Jeremiah. Gideon had passed just a decade and a half ago, found dead in his home next to his wife with a bullet in both of their heads. Another act of senseless violence in a world that never made any sense. They had left Faith, their daughter, in Zachary's care—a decision for the best, he thought, as when Jeremiah's anxiety from war flared up, there was little anyone could do to pacify him.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening, letting in the roar of the media outside. A few cameras snapped photos of the General glancing up at them, a solemn expression on his face. His assistant, a crimson-eyed cheetah, managed to get into the office by squeezing his way past a few eager news reporters. The door shut so abruptly that he almost caught his own tail in it.
"Sir, it's time," his assistant announced. "They've just arrived."
The hound's eyes went back to James McCloud's picture and the carefree look in his blue eyes. He was remiss to not have a photo of Vixy on his desk. It felt like a crime to forget what Andross had done to her. Though the media would be flashing images of James on their channels for the unforeseeable future, Pepper silently promised her that he would not forget.
"Sir?" his assistant asked.
"Coming," Pepper replied, stepping around his desk. He did one last quick check in the mirror and then made for the door. His assistant opened it for him, holding it open as he reeled under the pressure of countless cameras, lights, and microphones being thrust at him. He kept his gaze forward and walked as the security guards kept the reporters at bay. Their dazzling lights were blinding, creating speckles in the peripherals of his vision that danced like tiny stars.
They made it to the elevator at the end of the long, metallic hallway. When the doors closed and the blissful quiet returned, the General gave a sigh. He looked to his assistant.
"Enthusiastic, aren't they?" mused the hound.
"Definitely!" the assistant remarked.
"Well, I hope you're ready. This is going to be the new normal for a while," General Pepper replied and the cheetah looked as though he was going to faint at the thought.
The doors opened to another cacophony of voices, cameras, and lights. After a path had been made for the General, the young cheetah assistant led him from the elevator, down the hall, and to the lobby of the Cornerian Defense Tower. Banners strung from the ceiling added a flair to the otherwise quaint lobby. Baby's breath and sanguine roses decorated the stage, their aroma pleasant to his nose. Guards stood at either sides of the red carpet leading up to the podium. A few of them stayed to keep the media back and out of the middle of the room.
General Pepper let his hands run over the surface of the mahogany podium when he took his position, maintaining his solemn expression as a thousand photos were taken. A microphone was placed in front of him by one of the tech supports, who jostled it about and adjusted it to adequately fit the General's height. Zachary meant to thank him but his mouth was dry. The hound gave a cough and nodded to the tech support, swallowing in a hasty attempt to lubricate his throat. It would certainly have looked bad if the General of the greatest empire known to the Lylat System stumbled over his words.
"Brent," Zachary said to the cheetah. "Water, please."
"Right here, sir," the cheetah offered him a bottle, which the hound accepted, sipping gratefully before returning it to him. He was certain the tabloids would enjoy spinning his need for a drink in all sorts of insane ways.
"Thank you," the General whispered.
"Not a problem, sir!" Brent replied, taking his position a few feet away off to the side of the stage.
The Star Fox team came in not a moment too soon, heralded by trumpets blaring over a speaker system that General Pepper personally thought was a notch too loud. Clad in their mercenary attire, they stood out like sore thumbs against the sleek business garb of the reporters and the pristine uniforms of the Cornerian soldiers. Pepper felt his heart soar when he saw Peppy, a smile cracking the stony demeanor he had cast upon himself. The rabbit's warm eyes fell upon him yards down the red carpet and the hound felt himself unable to contain a small tail wag.
Fox walked slightly ahead of him, determination and exhaustion glazing over his emerald eyes. When his eyes met General Pepper's, he gave a small half-smile—the sort James would give him when they checked on each other after every battle. "Guess we made it"—the smile said. The joy Zachary felt for seeing his old war friend withered with numbing, sobering reflection.
Slippy and Falco were enough to cheer the war hound's soul. As the sapphire-plumed avian waved at the media as though he were a beauty pageant winner being whisked down the avenue on a parade float, Slippy waved spastically with a grin that stretched across his wide face. His arms flailed with such fervor that he nearly knocked Falco over, to which the bird gave the toad a sneer. General Pepper felt himself chuckle softly, hoping dearly the microphone on the podium did not pick it up.
When the Star Fox team reached the steps leading to the stage, they gave pause and General Pepper confident lift of his chin to look down at them was enough to silence the clamor brought in by the news reporters. The quiet that ensued felt alien, drawn in and taut with tension. Drawing in a breath to speak out felt like invoking a cyclone, the silence broken and all eyes fell on him.
"Citizens of the Cornerian Empire," General Pepper spoke. No note cards in front of him—he had never needed them to sound like a leader, no matter his own secret self-doubts. Perhaps that was why they had elected him. "Today, we rejoice at the defeat of evil and the liberation of millions from the enslavement camps they were put in by the nefarious hand of Doctor Gestalt Andross."
A pause for dramatic, impactful effect—public speaking was an art that had come so naturally to him.
"We mark today as the end to the Lylat Wars, a devastating catastrophe brought by cowardice, evil, and fueled by long-lasting hatred towards the way we live our very lives. No longer do we have to live in fear of attack from a nation built upon corruption and cruelty. Peace and freedom have won. Gestalt Andross, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Venom, is dead."
"As I speak now, thousands of soldiers work tirelessly to ensure our safety. To them, I give the highest regards. The day will be soon when all can return home to live out our lives without fear of attack. The day will be soon when families can reunite. When fathers can see their children and mothers come home for the first time in years since this conflict began. I know that is a day many of us have longed to see… and many of us did not live to see. To those who gave their lives to this bloody fight, I salute you!"
General Pepper gave a salute and the soldiers in the room responded in kind, giving their own salute.
"We salute you!" came the chorus of soldier voices. Even with all the lights focused in on him, Zachary Pepper could see Peppy mouth the words.
"To the remnants of the Venomian Army, I say to you now to renounce your bestial, malicious ways and submit yourself to the Cornerian Empire. We are a people of peace and though this war has dug deep trenches between our people, we can find unity again."
His ear caught the concerned murmurs from the reporters. Surely they did not think he was going to offer them full amnesty? No matter, he did not want to mar the speech with backtracking and fumbling. His intentions would be made clear soon.
"And lastly, I want to personally thank the ones responsible for putting an end to the war we have fought for what seems like a lifetime. I am privileged to stand here, in the presence of the Heroes of the Lylat System—Star Fox. For their efforts, they will be presented each a golden medal – the Cornerian Freedom Wings, an honor gifted only to those who have accomplished great feats in the name of our beloved nation. Please, step forward."
They obeyed and General Pepper turned to his left, receiving a polished wooden box from a nearby lieutenant. Within the blue velvet of the interior sat four golden medals – graced with the emblem of the Cornerian Empire wrapped within a set of angelic wings. The hound walked up to Fox, pinning the first one to his jacket.
When he caught the vulpine's eye, he hesitated for a moment. One of Fox's hands moved to touch the engraved symbol on his medal, his vivid eyes never leaving the General's. Up close, Zachary could see the life that had been stoked within him—and the life that had been extinguished. It took a lot to not throw his arms around Fox's shoulders, to whisper how sorry he was that everything had happened this way.
He's come a long way from the Academy. That's for certain.
"General," Fox said with a salute as the hound backed a step. Zachary offered him a salute as well, smiling and becoming vaguely aware of the fact that tears had begun to blossom in the corners of his eyes.
"McCloud."
James, wherever you are… I'm not sure how you did it. But you did a good job with him. Vixy would be proud.
Peppy was next and General Pepper truly feared his professional mien would shatter. He clipped the medal onto Peppy's jacket, hands lingering for a moment before returning to his sides. He gave a salute.
"Hare."
Former captain and forever someone I can rely on.
"General!" Peppy said with a salute.
Falco was third, awkwardly watching the General pin the medal onto him.
"Lombardi," the General saluted.
"Cool," Falco shrugged.
Once a ruffian always a ruffian, but at least he has a good heart.
Slippy was last, bubbly tears leaking down the sides of his face. His mirth was undeniable, trembling his stout form from head-to-toe. When Pepper had finished pinning his medal, he looked down at it with a smile of pure glee.
"Toad," General Pepper saluted him.
"General!" Slippy gave him a salute then went back to marveling at his medal.
The General made it back to his podium, lifting his chin. More snapshots were taken. He could hear the cameras firing off. This moment would be immortalized; this moment was history being forged. These pictures would be in textbooks to come, museums to memorialize the end of an era.
"To the Star Fox team, we give our utmost gratitude for your bravery and dedication to maintaining peace in the Lylat System!" General Pepper declared. "From the bottom of our hearts… Thank you!"
Applause erupted from the media and the Star Fox team members gave a bow. General Pepper stepped down from the stage, dimly aware of the media onslaught that pushed forward against his guards. Brent the cheetah caught up with him as he dipped from the room and to the hallway behind the grand entryway of the Cornerian Defense Tower lobby. He paused, glancing back at Brent as two bulldogs took up their post by the doors to make sure none of the reporters made it to the hallway.
"We'll want to pause for a moment. The others will be along shortly," the hound remarked.
"If they can manage to get out of the room. I've never seen so many people in there in my whole life!" Brent remarked.
"Again, it'll be the new normal for awhile. Critics will find something to tear at. The news will make a story out of what shoes I decide to wear for the day. It's the media," General Zachary Pepper shrugged then looked out the window.
Outside, past the stain-free windows, General Pepper could see the public crowded around the tower. A small army of Cornerian guards kept them at bay, struggling to hold back the eager fans. He chuckled – their enthusiasm was beautiful and heartfelt.
Soon enough, the Star Fox team squeezed through the double doors leading back into the lobby. Falco looked a little put out to be leaving the party, but Fox seemed quite relieved. He walked up to General Pepper, offering his hand to him. The hound gave it a shake then pulled the vulpine into a strong embrace.
"It's good to see you, Fox," Pepper said as they let go of each other. "I know you're probably eager to get back to Papetoon but I thought you deserved a little more than a medal and some bravado in front of the press."
"Well, I hear we're gettin' paid for riskin' our necks," Falco remarked crassly. "I think that'll make me feel loads better than a medal."
"Oh quiet, you! The Cornerian Freedom Wings is an honor only given to a handful of people before us. Show some respect!" Peppy chided the avian as he walked up. When he looked to the General, Zachary Pepper felt his heart flutter with glee. He pulled the hare into a big hug.
"I'm glad you're here," the hound said, letting go of Peppy.
"Guess your lucky charm still works," Peppy smiled at him.
"You kept that?" General Pepper asked in surprise.
"Yep! It hasn't let me down yet!" Peppy nodded.
"This is cute an' all, but what're we standing around for?" Falco began.
"Er… I guess we did kinda park the Great Fox in a bad spot, now that I think about it. I can have ROB pull back into orbit, though," Slippy chimed in.
"Well, I was hoping you'd join me for some hors d'oeuvres, cake, and punch. There was something I wanted to discuss with you four," General Pepper replied.
"What's a… whore-derve…?" Falco asked hesitantly.
"It means 'food'!" Slippy exclaimed.
"I can get behind that," Falco said, perking up with interest.
"Lead the way, General," Fox said with a chuckle.
An elevator ride to the seventh floor and a walk down the hall eventually got them to the small reception General Pepper had thrown together. A florist had brought in exotic flowers harvested from Fortuna. A giant tank of crystalline water housed a few passive sea creatures dug up from the reefs of Zoness. Platters upon platters of antipasto, cheese, tartlets, and skewered crabmeat had been set out upon a silken pintuck linen of dark, navy blue. A glass bowl with frothing carbonated punch sat to the side, next to a lovely Corneria Cake. Looming in the bowl's middle was a mountain of fruity sherbet. Couches had been set aside next to the window, angled in on a pleasant, cherry wood coffee table.
"Wow!" Falco beamed.
"All of this for us? You didn't have to do that," Peppy remarked.
"Without you, this planet would be in ruins. It's the least I could do," General Pepper nodded. "Dig in!"
He did not need to tell them twice. The team hurried to the food, Peppy included, their mouths watering with excitement. General Pepper sat on one of the couches, looking out at the city as Lylat began its descent beyond the watery horizon. It was not long before Fox joined him, head cocked to the side with curiosity.
"Not grabbin' anything?" Fox asked.
"It's yours," General Zachary Pepper insisted.
"Well, I'm saying you should grab something," Fox replied.
"If you insist," the hound laughed and grabbed a meager fill of the food. Public speaking stole his hunger away more often than not, but he told himself to do it, if only to appease the vulpine.
When they had all settled into the couches near the window, the General let them eat for a few minutes without interruption. He stifled a laugh as Slippy dug into his piece of cake with such zeal that a few globs of icing clung to his cheeks. Falco looked particularly thrilled by the antipasto and plopped a handful of oiled mozzarella spheres into his beak as he casually leaned against the back cushion of the couch.
"This punch is so good," Peppy beamed. "Reminds me of the kind my ma used to make back home when we came in from workin' the farm."
"I'm glad," the hound smiled.
Now onto business…
"Fox," began General Pepper, his brown eyes sweeping over to the ace pilot. "I wanted to discuss something with you and the rest of your team—out of sight of the public."
"Sure," Fox shrugged.
"It's become obvious to me that while the Cornerian Army harbors the strongest fleet in the Lylat System in numbers… we are lacking something. Something that we desperately need to fend off forces as dangerous as the Venomian Army. That something, I believe, lies in the Star Fox team," General Pepper explained, looking back out at the sunset waters below. "You have adaptability and cunning on your side. You're resourceful and it's clear to me that you and your team are in a league of your own."
He hesitated, selecting his next words with precision.
"I want you to lead a branch in the Cornerian military. A new branch of elite fighters, dedicated to filling in where the Cornerian Army fails. A group of special operatives."
Fox's left ear flitted back and he looked to the General in a mixture of awe and surprise. Zachary Pepper could see the vulpine weigh the pros and cons, his expression a shifting battlefield of thought. Fox rubbed his chin.
"You want us to be special agents?" Slippy asked with stars shining in his baby blue eyes.
"I suppose that's one way to put it," General Pepper replied with a nod.
Fox inhaled, clearly trying his best to find the right words to say. He could have said nothing and the hound would have known the answer immediately. There was a reason Fox had pulled out of the Academy in the first place – his heart belonged in the stars, wandering the Lylat System and helping those who needed him. He moved to his own beat and he would not have it any other way.
"I'm honored… but I think I speak for everyone when I say that I think we prefer doing things our own way," Fox answered. "I'm sorry, General."
Every bit of his father's blood in him.
"Don't apologize," the hound shook his head. "That was the answer I expected."
"I… hope we didn't ruin anything," Fox began, glancing back at the décor and food.
"Not at all! That's a gift from me to you for saving the Lylat System," General Pepper chortled. "Enjoy the food. I thought to ask because having you on hand would be convenient. But I understand. This life isn't for everyone."
"Thanks for understanding," Fox smiled at him.
"Heh, besides, you wouldn't want an old nag like me in your military, would you?" Peppy asked him.
Peppy, you haven't aged as much as you think you have.
"You may be right," General Pepper said with a small wink to his friend. "I may be dodging a bullet by you saying no."
A buzz in his crimson coat pocket alerted him. At first, the hound figured it was just a text message—something from Faith or perhaps Jeremiah or his parents. The second buzz caused his mouth to curl into a frown. He pulled out his phone and glanced down, noticing that he was getting an incoming call. The caller ID was Cornerian, the call local within the planet's limits. He did not recognize the number right off the bat.
If they have this number… they must be involved in the military somehow. Ahhh but it'd be bad form for me to answer now in front of my guests. If it were an emergency, they'd have messaged the security team or Brent. I can take the message and call them back later.
He opened his phone's menu and forwarded the call to Brent's phone without a second thought. Personal assistants were there for a reason, right? Zachary Pepper shrugged off his tension, telling himself to get up and grab another round of punch. When he returned, Brent caught his attention, motioning him over. The General's brow furrowed and he walked over to the cheetah with a glass goblet in hand.
"Sir, that call you forwarded me, it's from the Corneria City Police Department," Brent informed him in a low voice. "Chief Lane wants to discuss something with you as soon as possible. She says it's urgent."
"Urgent?" the General's left brow arched at the young feline.
"Yes, sir, she says it… it has to do with…" Brent's gaze shifted momentarily towards the mercenaries chatting and eating a few yards away. The cheetah shuffled in closer to the General. "It has to do with Andross, sir."
But he's dead. And the dead can never come back. Right? Or does that damn monkey think he can fight us from beyond the grave?
"I'll call her once I'm done here. We shouldn't be much longer," Zachary Pepper replied.
"I will let her know," Brent replied but there was doubt that rang in his voice. Doubt and uncertainty—and on a night they all should have been celebrating.
"Something wrong?" Fox asked as General Pepper returned to the couches.
"If it's not one thing, it's another," the hound replied, perhaps a little too gruffly. He watched Fox's expression shift into that of curiosity. To alleviate the vulpine's fears, the General shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's nothing important."
"Well, I wouldn't wanna keep you too long. I'm sure you've got a lot to go over now that the war's done," Fox said, rising from the couch. "C'mon boys, let's get outta his fur for a bit."
"Don't rush yourselves for my sake," the General protested.
"Nah, we've actually already got a call to do some transport security from the city to Area 3. Shouldn't be a long trip but we gotta head out tonight," Fox replied.
General Pepper nodded in understanding. "Do you want to-go boxes? I had some provided."
"Yes!" Falco said between the three skewers jabbed into his beak.
"That'd be real kind of you," Peppy said with one of his genuine, flashy smiles.
As the team packed away the food, General Pepper sidled off to the side with the hare. It was true that their careers had taken them down vastly different paths, but the fact that they could still see each other warmed the hound's heart. Even if their exchanges were brief and mostly work-related, being near his old war friend helped his nerves. Some semblance of foundation kept him sane, even if it was in brief messages back and forth over text messages.
"I didn't get a chance to speak with you at Vivian's funeral," Zachary Pepper began and he could sense Peppy tense up. Vivian had passed one year into the Lylat Wars, her illness taking a sharp turn for the worse. It had been a gradual incline… then a plummet.
A terrible twist of fate, especially after losing James. It's a miracle he hasn't gone insane.
General Pepper lowered his gaze. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. She truly was a great woman and a perfect role model for Lucy."
"Much better than I am," Peppy remarked bitterly, the words seeming to spill from a well of pessimism that seemed unlike the usual upbeat hare. "Thanks, Zach, it means a lot to me. I was… I got to be there when… Well. When she went. Lucy and I… we'll make it."
"She's a strong girl. She takes after you more than you think," General Pepper replied with a soft smile.
"She's much smarter than I am," Peppy shook his head. "Definitely takes after her mother."
"Well, regardless, I hope that all is well. I've been keeping you both in my thoughts. Let me know if you…" the hound's statement faltered as he looked into Peppy's sanguine irises. "… If you need anything."
We've all lost so much over these past years. Are we really victors in the end? Or just survivors?
"Will do," Peppy said with a playful salute.
By the time the team had departed the reception in the parlor, night had fallen upon Corneria City. The moon glimmered a grinning crescent through the windows, its light occasionally stifled by wispy grey clouds. General Pepper sat down in one of the couches, left in the privacy of two security guards. Brent had gone home as per the hound's request after the reception had ended and the dog was left to contemplate the cityscape scenery beneath him.
Lost in thought over the war, he jerked upright when he realized what Brent had told him about Chief Lane's phone call. He pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing down at it with quiet intrigue. His gut told him that he was about to learn something he mostly certainly did not want to. The notion made his fingers drag reluctantly across the digital keys, pulling Chief Lane's phone number back up.
Chief Lane… that's a name and title combination that takes me back to when I was a rascally pup and her father used to chase me and my brothers down the street, waving his baton and threatening a night in jail if we didn't stop pranking the old shop keeper on Greyhound Avenue. Good times…
He dialed in her number and put the phone to one of his floppy ears. It rang... rang… rang… And then gave a beep.
"Hi, you've reached the cell of Police Chief Samantha Lane. I'm sorry but I'm unavailable right now. Please leave your name, number, and a quick message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"
That's odd. Usually she picks up immediately.
He killed the connection between their phones, dark musings in his mind. The bad feeling in his stomach grew, swelling with intensity. His dulled nails clicked against the back of his phone. On one hand, he hated the idea of being pessimistic. On the other hand, being optimistic was lethal. Zachary inhaled a deep breath, trying to rationalize his feelings and what little he knew of the situation.
She'll call back. She's probably driving or something. All of this parading about has made me tired, that's all. I need to get some rest. And… perhaps a stiff drink.
"I'm going to head home," the General announced to the guards. "Go out, enjoy yourselves tonight. But not too much."
"Yes, sir!" one of them said as they saluted him.
The General called for his chauffeur and began to make his way into the elevator down to the lobby level. As the numbers for each floor flashed by, he tried his hardest to quell the unease racking his body. Tonight was a night to party, to celebrate, and to cherish the peace that the Star Fox team had brought them.
…
So why did he feel so nervous?