It was rainy outside, observed Dr. Leon Powalski. It was rainy on his inside as well. A chameleon in his mid 30's, the reptile had a lot to think about these days, despite being a mortician. His scales were a pale green shade, something people used to associate with his lack of exposure to the sun, back when he talked to people. His tail, of mediary length and curling near the end, followed him like a faithful assistant, as it had for many years. His narrow reptilian eyes seemed sunken, like those of a cynic constantly irritated with the sentiments of the world around him. He carried an air of cold, stoic intelligence, aided by the white labcoat he wore while on duty.
Dr. Powalski wished he could die right now. His wife had walked out on him several months ago, taking their young son with her. Most of Powalski's friends had severed ties with him after he became increasingly antisocial upon taking a job at a local mortuary in Corneria City, a place far from anything he would ever call home. The doctor lived by himself in a nearby apartment, unmentioned by his neighbors, lacking the resolve (but not the desperation) to turn to drugs or alcohol, and finding insufficient significance in his own life to take it by means of suicide. The doctor was trapped in hell, an impression aided in part by the fact that Powalski spent the majority of his work hours around dead people. But at this moment, a ray of light shined through the bleak gray of the doctor's normal daily routine. A ring of the bell at the front roused his attention. It was very possibly another corpse. Gang violence, alcoholism, and other harmful practices were on the rise in lower Corneria City, providing Powalski and local law enforcement with no shortage of work.
But to his surprise, at the front counter was instead a man who looked rather out of place in this setting. He wore casual looking clothing. Jeans and a jacket, with some heavier boots and sunglasses. He appeared too normal to be one of the gangsters or metalheads that frequented these parts. The man was a government agent. Powalski walked into his view, studying him silently. He seemed confident, like he had a purpose, something to go home to every day. It was for this reason Powalski half envied him. As the man studied him back, he initiated the introduction.
"Dr. Leon Powalski, mortician, I presume?" He inquired.
"Yes." Replied Leon dryly.
"Special Agent Matthew Anderson, Cornerian Security Agency." He pulled out a badge and handed it to Powalski. A government agent, just as he had presumed. "I'm here to inspect some of your newer, um, subjects for clues to an ongoing investigation."
"You mean the viral outbreak on Fichina? News has gotten around." The recent accidental release of an experimental airborne toxin on Fichina had left a number of people, alive and dead, carrying the lethal virus elsewhere, so it was only natural that such an inspection would come about.
"May I take a look around?"
"Of course." Replied Powalski, motioning to the back.
Agent Anderson seemed easy to please. He walked down each row of corpses, inspecting the tagged feet of the subjects. At last, one seemed to catch his eye. A foot, halfway down the row against the wall, covered in gray fur. The agent walked towards it and placed his hand on the foot, as if inspecting it for signs of life. His ears perked up upon touching it, however, but the response came too late to avoid the syringe Dr. Powalski plunged into his neck. Anderson reeled in surprise and stumbled against an adjacent cart. He looked in surprise as the body he had been inspecting came alive.
The figure that emerged was an older, very disgruntled-looking wolf. He wore no shirt or shoes, but he wore a pair of brown pants and an eyepatch over his left eye. The gun in his right hand now hung at his side as he knelt in front of the now convulsing agent, who just looked on in shock. After several tense moments, through which Powalski simply stood back looking shocked, the wolf spoke.
"Matt, I'm so sorry."
Within a few more seconds, Agent Anderson was dead. The imposing lupine rose and casually turned to Powalski.
"Have you made up your mind yet? Are you gonna keep doing this and pretending you aren't who you are, or are you going to do what you have to do?" He asked. Powalski looked contemptuously at the wolf, then at the fresh body, then finally turned to walk towards a nearby sheet while answering:
"A government agent is dead. I'll dump him with the next load, but I don't think I'll be able to deny this once they come looking for our friend here." He placed the sheet over the agent, whom he had placed on an empty cart.
"Well, whatever your choice, I have the sample. The shuttle leaves tomorrow at nine at Sylen Station. If you want to do something significant, you'll get on it. If not, then you've outlived your usefulness, and you'll rot and die in this hole. Take your pick."
The wolf walked towards the back door and left without a sound. Powalski stumbled towards the wall and sunk down to a sitting position, where he showed his first bit of real emotion in years. Leon Powalski began to cry.
****************************
Fox McCloud, 21, sat down into his chair in the meeting room to which he was called. A young, rather unoriginally named vulpine, McCloud was the image of an eager young soldier boy. Bright orange fur, radiant, youthful green eyes, and a constant half relaxed mannerism seemed to pervade the room while he was present. He was a pilot-in-training at the Cornerian Military Academy, and a prodigy, an attribute many credited to his father, the legendary fighter James McCloud. Fox was clad in a white T-shirt and blue pants, the common on-base uniform of Academy students. He seemed to be growing impatient waiting for the man who had called him for, until at long last, he appeared.
The figure who joined McCloud in the room was clad in full military dress garb, showing his various decorations. He was a hare who looked to be in his mid-40s, who carried himself with the pride of a seasoned solider, complete with all the internal scars of battle. He was Peppy Hare, a friend of Fox's father's, who had been around quite a lot since Fox's childhood, along with his father's other close friends, Pigma Dengar and Matthew Anderson, the latter of whom had been killed last night at a mortuary in the lower city. Peppy sat down as he and Fox looked at each other.
"Peppy, what's goin' on here?" Fox inquired. Peppy looked back at him as he placed a file on the table next to himself.
"Fox, James...Your father is dead." Fox remained silent as he looked down. He wouldn't cry out now. That would wait until later. Right now, he had to cope with this news. Tears started to well up, despite his best wishes, but he continued to try and reason with himself as Peppy granted him a moment's reprieve. At length, Fox replied.
"You heard about Matthew Anderson, didn't you?" He asked Peppy. Peppy looked away, clearly struggling to keep his composure.
"Yes. I've lost two friends this week."
"How did it happen?" Inquired Fox hesitantly.
"Fox, don't be getting any ideas-"
"Peppy, how did my father die?" After a pause, Peppy answered the young man.
"We were betrayed on an assignment in the Venomian sector. By Pigma Dengar. He turned us over to the mad scientist we were sent to capture. He shot James in the head before I managed to escape through a window. This visit was James' last request." He answered. Fox's grip on the table tightened. Pigma Dengar was a man his father had trusted, had worked with for many years. The thought that such scum existed that would betray a friendship like that for a quick buck from a psychotic madman made Fox thirsty for blood. The blood of a traitorous pig. After his anger had subsided, another question entered his mind.
"What's so important about this meeting? Did you just come to tell me about my dad?"
"No. I'm here to talk to you about something confidential. You see, the man we were sent to track was classified before as a level 3 threat to system-wide security. But since the death of a top-level government agent at his hands, and in light of some information we've recovered regarding him, he's been moved up to a level 5 security threat."
"Level 5?! That makes him one of the most dangerous men in the system!"
"He is. It's what I'm here to talk to you about. We...are putting together a team, with the special purpose of taking this man down. I'm offering you my personal recommendation in your father's absence, and Matthew Anderson gave his as well prior to his death."
"Wait...what? What makes you think you can just take me out of the Academy and make me some kind of secret agent? What if this isn't what I want?" Fox replied angrily. Peppy sighed and pushed the manila folder he had brought with him over to Fox.
"I thought you might have wanted a chance to finish what James started. That is a list of the other potential members of the team. They're specialists in their fields, and you'll be working with them closely if you choose to accept." Fox looked over the people listed in the file. An ex-convict from Zoness named Falco Lombardi was to be the vehicle and heavy weapons expert. A technological prodigy named Slippy Toad, the son of the famous inventor Beltino Toad was to be the technical expert and field operator. Peppy was to be the senior advisor and official team leader. Fox was, of course, intended to be the field leader and pointman. But it was the next name that made him groan. Krystal Lambert, Fox's ex-girlfriend and another prodigy of the Academy, was to act as co-field leader and operative.
"So, a gang member fresh out of the Zoness prison system, a nerdy frog, and my ex-girlfriend. That's all you have to offer me?"
"I'm offering you retribution. We already have our first lead. If you want to follow up on this, give me a call."
"Dad was a government agent. I knew his day was coming, and so did he. He knew the risks, why spill even more blood over this?"
"This man will kill us all if you do nothing. That's the blood that will be spilled if you continue to play the part of the blind man, Fox."
"You need three recommendations from senior officers for my transfer anyway. Who do you think's gonna be your third?" He demanded. Peppy looked at him regretfully as he got up to leave.
"I don't know. If you call later, we'll work this out. Please, don't let James' death be in vain." Peppy walked out of the room as officiously as he had entered. Fox looked down at the ground, trying still to grasp the gravity of the things that had just been laid out to him. At last, he decided it was time for him to go as well, got up, and ambled toward the exit. No sooner had he left, however, than he ran into a large man.
"I'm sorry, sir." He said hastily as he rushed on past. But before he had taken another step, the man's voice called out to him.
"Fox?!"
Fox turned to look at him, and was stunned with shock. The man before him was a tall wolf who seemed to be getting towards 50 years of age. His fur was well-groomed at present, but looked as if until recently, it had been very unkempt and disheveled. He made an imposing figure, wearing full military garb with nearly as many decorations, maybe more, than Peppy. He also wore a black cloth eyepatch over his left eye. The man was Major Wolf Scott O'Donnell.
"Wolf!" Exclaimed Fox. Wolf had acted, along with Fox's own father, as Fox's mentor of sorts in his younger years. Although Wolf O'Donnell and James McCloud didn't see eye-to-eye on many things, they had managed to find a common bond: their interest in Fox. Fox always recalled that his father didn't particularly like the lessons he was given by Wolf, but they had been a large part of what had carved him into the soldier he was now. Wolf had vanished when Fox was fourteen years old, having been called to a station on some far-off planet. Fox hadn't heard from him until now. The two shook hands and embraced as a long-delayed greeting.
"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in years!"
"I heard about what happened to your father, and to Matthew Anderson. I returned to Corneria to pay my respects. What's been going on with you, kid?"
"Not a whole lot. Peppy just laid the news about my dad on me."
"You have my most sincere condolences. But you look like you're thinking about something else." He said. Fox looked at the lupine quizzically. He was much sharper than Fox had remembered.
"Yeah...Peppy offered me a shot at the one who killed him. But I don't know. I'd be turning my back on everything I've built here. I don't know if I'm ready to do that." Said Fox. Wolf looked at him as if he were thinking hard about something, then went on.
"Hm. Maybe we can talk about it later. I have somewhere I need to be going to right now. It was good talking to you, though, Fox."
"Yeah, you too, Wolf. I'll see you around, hopefully." He said, walking over. It was incredibly good to see an old friend right now. But he needed time right now to think by himself. He would go to his dorm and decide there what stomach-wrenching turn his life would take next.