If we're looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn't test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power.

P. J. O'Rourke

Corneria City - Cornerian Military Air Force Base - 20 Years BLW

The letters on the office door glass declared the relatively spacious (for the Cornerian Military) room inside to belong to one Brigadier General Cornelius Pepper. It was the same as the doors for each of the other generals of equal rank, at least in appearance. The amount of traffic it received however from individuals who were not in military uniform however, was not. Across the hallway from another desk watching the coming and goings sat a large brown bear, who glanced up every so often seeing who was going down the hall. Major General Ralph Brun still was scratching his head over exactly how Pepper had managed to get his pet project - using mercenaries in place of the official units they'd been forced to disband - approved. All he knew was that the Senate had sponsored the bill, approved it, and tied doing it to the budget. It didn't mean that he liked it, even if he had to live with it. When he heard the unmistakable voice of James McCloud, back again from one mission and certain to be immediately given another he just shut the door and muttered his frustration into a mug of now lukewarm coffee. If there was one thing he liked less than mercenaries it was daredevil pilots, and the vulpine who was both was in his mind far more of a liability despite his achievements. Maybe one day that would bite Pepper in the tail, General Brun would like that.

Whatever the other general felt about the matter, it was on Pepper's desk the approval and dispensation of various missions as he saw fit to whichever team was on the approved list. StarFox was absolutely on the approved list, and really if anything Pepper was loving the fact that he could hire them back but not under official military colors. All the measure of obedience he'd ever gotten out of James McCloud, and a lot more deniability if anything went wrong. It was perfect, and was working well enough that his detractors were having to be a bit more quiet with their complaints. There was a knock on the door, more casual than any military officer or enlisted would have dared as the vulpine walked in dressed in his usual flight jacket, sunglasses and red scarf, followed closely by the more senior hare and another pilot that Pepper didn't know.

"Afternoon General." James was grinning, and didn't bother taking off his sunglasses. "I'm assuming you got our report once we hit planet-side?"

Pepper gave a practiced smile and motioned for the three to sit in the chairs before his desk. "I did, another job well done. I imagine you are here for your check, as well as your next assignment. But first, who is this?" He looked over at the third pilot in the room, one he didn't know from any military service.

"This, is the third member of StarFox, Pigma Dengar." James said, still grinning. "Two pilots flies a little light for some missions, even for my tastes it's too risky. "Pigma, this is Brigadier General Cornelius Pepper, we usually call him just General for short as he's the only one we actually work with anyways these days."

Hands were shaken before the new member sat down. He was quiet, even compared to Peppy he was quiet. It was Pepper who spoke up next. "A pleasure. If you can pass James' standards of piloting I won't bother with any of the formalities. I will need to run a background check though, despite the fact I'm sure James already did."

The vulpine nodded, he had his sources. Pigma's background was frankly- squeaky clean. It had nagged him a little at first, that there was absolutely nothing on a guy who was a pilot and wasn't in the military, but supposedly he'd been flying for the private corporations and everything James could dig into, had checked out. Eventually his misgivings had been put aside given that there weren't exactly a list of volunteers wanting to be on the team despite its reputation. Most mercenaries these days had signed up with Black Sky, an up and coming corporation that provided a shell of sorts for mercenary teams giving legitimacy and the promise of backup and a few other benefits in exchange for a cut of the profits. The military had been authority enough, James wasn't about to go signing up to take orders from a corporate pencil pusher who had never seen combat. Pigma thought that Black Sky took too much of a cut for what they offered. "Naturally, sir." He glanced over at the third pilot. "Probably at some point need to work on getting you some form of clearance but, I'm hoping Pepper has something on the list that doesn't require it."

Pepper paused, the sound of his stylus tapping on the tablet before him as he wrote out the authorization to transfer funds to the team's account stopping and there was a moment of silence. "Well, yes, as it is." He stood up and shut the door before he continued. Peppy was trying hard not to give him a quizzical look, but the one ear up one ear down was a dead giveaway. One the general had always found amusing. "However, while it doesn't require clearance, it does require discretion. It's not an official military mission. It's more of a….call it a favor for another branch of the government."

Peppy frowned, although Pigma finally spoke up "Thought the pay was guaranteed more or less on this gig, given its all military contracts."

The middle aged dog smiled, as if it was a silly question that didn't offend him. "Shrewd man I see you've hired James. The pay is still guaranteed, under all the usual terms. I can personally prose you that. It's just going to be a different color and insignia on the check, and a request that you keep it under your flight helmets so to speak."

"Same thing, different money bucket. Yeah that's not a problem General." James agreed more readily than Peppy would have liked, this was strange. He'd never seen things be handled this way in the military. The mercenary program was new but contracting out wasn't, but this was more than outside the norm. Then again things were strange in Lylat these days, times were changing and with it all of the old rules seemed to be in flux too.

"Details just hit your secured inbox" Pepper stated, hitting a button on the tablet before him and swiping an item from one area to another. "My secretary will have the forms for Dengar before you leave. Do try to get the paperwork in relatively soon." He glanced at the still sunglass sporting fox, it was things like that that sometimes wound up being the one problem he had with StarFox. He was pretty certain the last hardcopies he'd gotten had at least four different coffee rings on them before they'd come back - late.

The team nodded, and after a few more pleasantries exchanged, the three headed out. It didn't take Pigma long to fill out the forms, James already knew that the man pretty much had no family or relations and no interest in acquiring them, which made listing them a brief matter. Once they were clear of the main building Peppy looked over at his team lead. "Can I ask why you didn't question the strangeness of that?"

James sighed. "Peppy, does it matter? You know how the military is, we were both in it. It's probably just Pepper working around somebody whose giving him grief or doing some other officer in the Marines or the Army a favor. Given neither are authorized to hire mercenary teams directly."

Corneria City - Downtown - Later that Day

Soft sounds of quiet dinner conversations and silverware clinking against plates filled the restaurant. The constant barrage of to him, terribly loud noise, didn't help Senator Chadwick calm down in the least. The blonde fennec in the black suit cursed his large ears and the hearing that accompanied them again as he waited for his dinner companion. He swirled the glass of wine in front of him before finishing it off and having the waiter bring another. He was halfway through the second glass when he finally seemed to settle down as his associate showed up, ten minutes late. "Cornelius." There was a nod given to the General.

"Todd. Evening. Sorry to keep you waiting, but even I can't keep a three star General from going over his meeting times." The senator nodded in understanding, the explanation sufficient for him as the canine sat down across from him.

"So what news? I assume there's news?"

"Easy my good man, yes there's news, and I think it will please you but give a man a moment." Pepper motioned a waiter who was not too far off over and was shortly brought a tumbler of gin and tonic. He took a sip before he continued. "The job is hired out, to the best team on the list, and you know who that is. They're famous enough for being up front that there won't be any problem with security checkpoints or inspecting cargo."

"You sure they won't look into what's in the crates?"

"No mercenary worth their salt would. Bad for business, and risky to know things you shouldn't. Besides, to them it's just another military job from me with a different check. Don't worry about it, I would be shocked if the idea to look even crossed their minds. If it does, the first thing they'd do is coming running to me and I'll explain it away for you. What you're moving is hardly suspicious to casual lookers anyways."

Todd nervously brushed off dust from his jacket that wasn't there and straightened his already perfectly straight tie. "I suppose you're right. The shortage hasn't actually hit yet. For now, the cargo is worth far less to anyone who doesn't know whats about to happen."

"Exactly my friend, exactly. Get another glass of wine and put your mind at ease about it." Pepper sighed, Todd was always such a bundle of nervous wreck, he wasn't quite sure how the man had been elected in the first place.

"And you're sure the paperwo.."

"Don't question my competence, Chadwick." There was a low growl underlying the tone and the fennec's ears stood straight up in startlement before the man looked properly abashed.

"Sorry, sorry. Details keep me up at night, that's all. I meant nothing by it." The desert sand colored whiskers on his face were twitching nervously, although Pepper knew that wasn't the man's tell for lying. Actually that was when the nervous little man was still for a change, trying too hard.

"I know they do. It's why I told you have another drink."

"And in return what do you need then since you've completed your end of our bargain?"

"At the moment, my friend, nothing. I'm sure at some point I'll need a favor, nothing unpleasant or extravagant though." There was a reassuring smile from the General, as Senator Chadwick finished his second glass of wine and ordered a third. Pepper heeled up his glass and lightly clinked it to the other man's. "Too good partnerships and jobs well done."

Corneria City - Apartment of Vixy Reinhard - 19.5 Years BLW

"James?" The voice that drifted in the still dark bedroom was tentative and mumbled, as it's speaker had just woken up hearing the door of the apartment open with someone who knew the code. Vixy felt the weight of someone else sit down on the edge of the bed and opened one green eye to see her fiancé lean down and kiss her cheek.

"Honey I'm home?" There was a grin on the pilots face that was a mixture of sheepish and impish all at the same moment and Vixy grabbed the spare pillow and thwapped him once with it which he easily batted away with a paw. She glanced over at the alarm clock and blinked, realizing she was asleep on top of the comforter still wearing the sleek black dress she'd meant to welcome him home in.

"At four in the morning. WIth no phone call. James, what the hell?" The hurt in her voice was plain to hear. The vixen rarely yelled, although her temper was terrifying when someone did finally burn through her rather long fuse, but James knew he was in rather deep trouble over this one.

He sighed, and scratched self consciously behind an ear. "Radio silence babe, by the time that was safe to call you it was already 2 30 am. I did text you but I'm betting you'd fallen asleep by then." She was about to berate him for not calling when the fact he'd used the word safe to call her registered and she bolted up right.

"Safe? James, what happened?" She had already flicked on the light on the nightstand and was looking him over worriedly, and reached out one hand to the singe marks on the arm of his flight jacket. "Powers above James, are those blaster marks? Are you alright?!"

"I'm, fine so is everyone else on the team." He put one hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "They missed, really, got the wall behind me and I'm pretty sure it was luck on their part. Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn." It wasn't completely true, they'd been able to aim much better than that but still, they'd missed and they hadn't been that good. He caught the look she was giving him, torn between worry and confusion as the mission shouldn't have been that dangerous at least not the one he'd described to her. It'd been truth then too, it shouldn't have gone down that way. The vulpine team lead was still trying to sort out exactly how the situation had arrived at gunfire between himself and another mercenary team. "No, it shouldn't have been a dangerous trip. Yes, something went very wrong. I'm still not sure what though. It should have been a simple escort, we were practically formality just like I told you. I don't even know why anyone was interested in that transport."

Vixy frowned, and looked at him as she tugged off his jacket, inspecting the shirt beneath and relieved to find that it didn't bear similar marks or any other sign of a scuffle. "Are you sure who gave you the job was upfront about what you were escorting? I don't see how scientific equipment would be that valuable on the black market either. It's not like it's exactly easy to pawn off or use.."

"Job come from Pepper babe." James let her take the jacket and then put an arm around her as she curled up against him. He glanced down at his fiancee, the black dress contrasted dramatically with the red fur that covered most of her but matched the darker markings she sported on her arms and legs, as well as her ears. A series of fused pieces of green iridescent glass strung together hung from her neck, offsetting the white fur there as well as the rest of her coloring beautifully. Glad to see her didn't begin to cover it.

"Another one of his unofficial ones though?" There was suspicion in her voice. Vixy wasn't liking the amount of "off the books" jobs James was doing for Pepper. He nodded.

"Yeah, but, babe it's just a different pay bucket. I've explained this. It's weird but, I'll try to find out."

She sighed, frowning but nuzzled against his neck anyways. "I'm just glad you really are okay, even if you are late. James….you would turn down a job if you thought something was off, right? Even if it's Pepper asking?"

"C'mon, you know the answer to that."

"I do, but I need to hear it from you." Green eyes gazed up at him again, worry and love both filling their depths.

"Absolutely I would turn it down. I have you to come home to." James gently lifted her chin with a hand and kissed her, gently removing her earrings and necklace and putting them on the nightstand.

The two foxes spent the scant few hours before dawn doing anything but sleeping.

Corneria City - Apartment of Pigma Dengar - 19.5 Years BLW

The slightly round figure knocked the alarm to snooze again before remembering that the next job was slated in a couple of hours. Pigma's feet hit the floor and went scurrying about his apartment grabbing his things together. The last team mission hadn't gone so well, and he really disliked having to book things so tightly together. He did miss sleeping in half the day on days off.

But there was one thing in Dengar's world that was more important than being comfortable and lazy when he could, and that was the money it took to acquire being comfortable and lazy. So up it was despite getting in late, and that the other two members of his team were bound to be home with their respective women and snoozing or plotting out absurd things like movies and picnics. Not that either of his other team members knew that he was working additionally outside of the StarFox name. What business was it of theirs though, he wasn't using the Team Name or it's resources while he did so.

Some of the jobs were oddly easy - as if various checkpoints and security systems had been turned off or pre-programmed to ignore activity they otherwise should have picked up and noticed. Others were simply strange, things that could have been sent by any normal delivery ship were suddenly showing up as mercenary jobs, not that anyone could precisely "recall" what the normal items were when asked. Seemingly the sender had ensured their silence one way or another. There were patterns forming that a more attentive mercenary or smuggler might have noticed. Pigma however, was much more focused on more immediate goals and ensuring that his side work stayed quietly to the side. At this rate he'd be retired before he hit forty. Which wasn't nearly soon enough but he was sure he'd manage better. He just needed to find out who was paying for the really dirty jobs.