Chapter Two, "KWEST"

Inner-city K'yorin, the capital city of Corneria, had not been so prosperous since before the first Lylat War nearly twenty years previous. Changes had been made since Andross's fall; reconstruction was well on its way for all of the Loyalist-governed planets, but none flourished so well as Corneria had in the peace that followed the end of the Separatist regime. Class sizes had increased to twice as many students at the Cornerian Flight Academy, where now both Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi taught advanced Arwing construction and artillery, respectively. Division One of Arspace had received the new line of Arwing from their Fortunan allies only one month before, and technology had never advanced as quickly as it was at the present.

Recently Metgiacon, Corneria's former mass-producing company of weapons technology, had gone bankrupt; in its place stood the new technical empire simply named KWEST. No one could say who was responsible for its remarkable prestige and advancement in society, for no one knew who owned and operated the establishment. In the absence of this information KWEST thrived; never before had anyone seen such unbelievable weapons, Arwing designs, or computer software, and it was rumored that the owners were soon to produce an entirely new model of Arwing themselves. Arspace, too, had already given them leave to do so, a decision that surely shocked the public!

Still, no one knew the masterminds behind the KWEST enterprise, but that hardly seemed to matter. General Pepper himself had already sanctioned its productions, and had even commended the unseen operatives for their unrivaled genius at a press conference. Although Metgiacon had folded because of KWEST's success, the majority of its employess had been invited to join the new technological enterprise shortly after. But who ran this place? Where had they come from?

A lone figure was approaching the single enormous KWEST skyscraper, dressed in high black boots, a long, flowing black cape, and a wide-brimmed black hat that concealed his features completely from any prying eyes. His step was light and graceful as he neared the door, and as the single burly security guard moved to intercept he whisked out a small sheet of paper, emblazoned with the KWEST insignia and a pair of signatures. At the sight of this the guard stepped back, holding the door open respectively, and with a touch of his hat he swept inside.

The walls and floor were wrought of a magnificent polished ivory, outlining a grand series of elevators embedded in the walls, and approaching one of these the visitor stepped inside and studied the control console. Numbered buttons all the way up to the sixty-ninth floor lined the metal casings; above this was a single gold button labeled seventy, and this one he pressed. A square plasma screen melted from the wall, and he pressed his right hand firmly to it for authorization; the screen turned green, and a small tray popped out at him from beneath the console.

"Please insert the document you were given so that we may verify the authenticity of the signatures," requested a mechanized voice, and extracting the form from a breast pocket he inserted it into the tray and waited. Presently the slip was returned to him, along with a reply, "You are cleared to enter the executive office of the leaders of this enterprise. Welcome to KWEST." With that the elevator smoothly jolted upward, and he leaned against the wall to wait.

Once the elevator car had shuddered to a stop at the top of the skyscraper he stepped out into the single narrow hallway and proceeded to the only door at the other end. Unlike every other office this door did not bear name plaques or executive titles, only a golden number seventy at his eye level; with a swift, polite knock he turned the handle and entered.

A baseball-sized water balloon narrowly missed his nose, bursting against the wall to his left and exploding water in all directions. Sitting in twin desks at either side of the room, Slippy Toad and Erik Nioxin snickered in delight.

"You owe me ten bucks," Slippy crowed, holding out one hand with a superior grin on his face.

"Fair enough." Erik extracted a single bill from his wallet, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it across the room; upon catching it Slippy stacked his feet up on his desk in satisfaction. The arctic fox leapt from his seat and bowed low to their guest, saying, "It's about time you showed up, Doctor!"

Sweeping off his black bolero Sensenic Morray returned the bow with an equal display of fanfare; stepping further into the office he studied the crudely-constructed catapult system responsible for hurling the balloon upon his entrance. "You were gambling on my demise?"

"He bet he could nail you with a water balloon when you walked in," Slippy explained with a smile. "I bet against him."

"Most people walk with a bigger stride than he does!" Erik protested, and he sat down with a comical huff; Morray chuckled and hung his hat on the back of the door.

Sensenic Morray headed the fourth division of Arspace on his home planet Fortuna, a title that clearly belied his clever, with, and intelligence. A handsome arctic fox of thirty, he stood straight and confident at five foot ten with a jovial pair of sapphire-hued eyes. Successful, polite, humorous, and devilishly attractive, many women considered him one of the most eligible bachelors in the Lylat System. Then again, most of them were unaware that he had not been single for nearly four months.

Erik gestured to a chair near the window, commanding a spectacular view of K'yorin and letting in the glorious sunlight. "What took you so long, Doctor? We had assumed you would visit us when KWEST became a true enterprise."

"I myself have been spectacularly busy since the beginning of reconstruction," Morray began, seating himself and leaning his head against the sill to bask in the sunlight. "Just two days ago I returned from my tenure as oversee-er of Titania's colonization, and I departed straight away to honor your summons. Before you ask, yes, the attempts to make the planet a liveable place have failed miserably; most of our volunteers were chased off by ghosts and the like."

"No one can blame you for trying," Slippy offered, and exchanging a coy glance with Erik he continued, "But enough about that! We want to hear all about your supposed 'serious relationship'! Give us all the details! Who's the lucky girl?"

"You sound like one of those blasted tabloid reporters," Morray groaned, running a hand down his face. "They've all fixated on my personal life like leeches." Despite his laments a smile curled up his lips; Erik and Slippy howled with laughter, pounding their fists on the desks in satisfaction.

"So there IS someone!" Erik exclaimed enthusiastically, ecstatic that his dear friend and father figure was finally finding happiness. "Who is she?"

"Always shoving video cameras into my face and prodding into my private affairs," Morray continued airily, as though he hadn't heard.

"Come on, Sensenic, don't keep us in the dark!" Slippy danced around his desk and right up to the older Fortunan, dropping to his knees in mock pleading. "We want in on your infamous love life! All we know is what's been printed in the 'K'yorin Columnist' and those sleazy tabloids! Give us the real scoop!"

"Woe is me for being cursed with wickedly good looks and an irresistably charming personality!" cried Morray, flinging an arm over his eyes, and the three of them shared a laugh.

Erik set to tossing an ornate paperweight back and forth in each hand, pressing, "Honestly, Doctor - what's she like? Do we know her?"

Morray didn't answer at first, gazing at the most recent headline of the 'K'yorin Columnist' bearing the bold-faced words: "Wedding Bells Ahead? Bachelorettes everywhere mourn rumors - Arspace mastermind Sensenic Morray to wed!" Hastily his adoptive son moved to hide the newspaper, and Morray heaved a pained sigh. "Well, I can dispel any questions you may have concerning my presumed nuptials, for marriage is the last thing on my mind. But the reporters are somewhat correct, for I am emotionally involved - "

"Give me my ten dollars back!" Erik shouted in sudden victory, and with a soft curse Slippy threw the balled-up bill back to its original owner. "I knew it! Come on, no more games; tell us who she is!"

The two technicians were gazing at him with rapt attention, greatly anticipating his reply, and at last Morray grinned in defeat and said, "Well, we became properly acquainted through Arspace when I returned to reclaim my post as chief technician, although I must admit we knew one another informally prior to the war's end. As time wore on we found ourselves working increasingly closely to one another, and she began to display a slight interest in me. Despite my reputation as an admirable catch among the members of the opposite sex I have had very little dating experience; I foolishly passed an entire two months without acting upon a mutual attraction." Morray scratched his head comically and offered a sheepish grin. "As you can expect she tired of waiting on me, and asked me to dinner; after several dates my life has not been the same."

Slippy snickered to himself; Erik pounded one fist on the desk before him in impatience. "But who IS she!"

"Alright, I've let you linger quite long enough." Rising from his chair Morray turned his back on them, gazing out the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, she's a human from one of the northernmost planets in the system, quite a bit younger than me, actually, having only just turned twenty." His tone was a nervous one; Erik and Slippy exchanged a curious glance. "She's got long, dark hair and a pair of eyes anyone would surely remember - a striking pale blue, they are - and commands a sense of honor and courage that even I don't fully understand." Here he turned to face them, eyes fixed on the floor, and he finished quietly, "And if I'm not mistaken, she's only just returned from deep space, where she has been hunting Separatist rogues for the past month under General Pepper's orders."

The lightheartedness in the office faded away at this; Slippy's face paled drastically as Erik swallowed and sputtered, "Just what does she do, exactly?"

"Ah, well, you see . . ." Morray sat down heavily. "She's an assassin."

"Celestra?" shrieked Slippy, tumbling out of his swivel chair in complete shock. "You're dating CELESTRA?"

"Our friend Celestra?" Erik added, eyes wide. "You mean Reivin's killer Celestra? Andross's-most-wanted Celestra?"

"Yes to all five," Morray acknowledged, lacing his fingers together and studying his nails as though not bothered in the least. "I must admit, I hadn't expected you to react quite so negatively; despite a touch of overconfidence and a slightly inflated ego, she is undoubtedly the most remarkable, beautiful, and bewitching woman I have ever met. I had rather hoped you would be happy for me."

Erik was extremely surprised; he was so used to Morray taking sarcatic jabs at everyone that he had forgotten he could hurt the man's feelings. Something in his face let on that he was pained by their reactions; clearing his throat Erik said hastily, "We're totally supportive of you, Doctor! Besides, you're old enough to choose who you date - I don't think you need my approval, of all things." This last was said with a coy wink, wringing a soft laugh from the older Fortunan, and he relaxed in his chair.

Slippy shifted uncomfortably. "You don't think she's a bit weird?"

Morray leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees, and fixed the young mercenary with a respectful gaze. "I find that my definition of 'weird' tends to differ from nearly everyone else's. Please elaborate."

"Overbearing? Impulsive? Tempermental? Critical? Downright scary?" Slippy rattled away, stopping when Morray's facial expression hardened defensively. "Take your pick - I've got more."

Seeming very thoughtful for a moment Morray scratched one of his eyebrows, ruffling the snowy fur in an amusing fashion, then looked up with a shrug and replied, "No, Slippy, I sure don't. Perhaps you see her as such because you are still in your adolescent years, and you still view women as awkward and unnatural." Leaning back in his chair he clasped his arms behind his head with a smirk and added, "I'll be sure to ask Celestra if she has cooties the next time I see her."

"Shut up. I can fix that catapult to pelt you next time," threatened Slippy peevishly, and Erik and Morray shared a hearty laugh. "Honestly, Sensenic, I'm happy for you. All joking aside, how often do you two see each other? How will this work, you being the top Fortunan diplomat and she being Pepper's top assassin?"

"We settled on that the day I realized our relationship has the potential to become something truly serious. We agreed to carry on our specific duties to the Loyalist reconstruction plans, but we also decided neither of us wished to end things between us. Although we've been apart for a month now we share brief transmissions almost daily to keep in touch." Here Morray sighed and gazed wistfully out the window, saying, "But I must admit it can never compare to the real thing . . . "

"I heard that!" squealed Erik gleefully, sitting straighter with a mischevious glint in his eyes, and it was clear from the look on Morray's face that he hadn't meant for them to hear his last bit. "What does that mean! Just how serious ARE you guys!"

Morray fiddled with a string on his cloak, seeming unnaturally flustered, and the two KWEST executives exchanged triumphant glances. Several times the Arspace mastermind opened and closed his mouth, searching for words; a blush swept up his neck, and at last he told them simply, "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Aw, come on, Doctor!" Erik cackled. "Give us the goods!"

"I do believe I've divulged quite enough already."

"But we didn't get any of the juicy stuff!" Slippy protested.

"Suddenly I remember why I came in the first place," Morray interrupted, hastily changing the subject. "You requested my audience so that I could critique your new Arwing prototype! Let's go and have a look at it, shall we?" Before they could deter him Morray had bounded to the door, situating the wide-brimmed bolero on his head at a rakish angle and holding the door open for his colleagues. With a sigh of impatience Erik led them out the door and down the hall to the elevators.

Floors ten through thirty were dedicated solely to the construction of spacecraft enhancement and the like, and it was on level twenty-six that they disembarked. As Morray followed closely he was mildly impressed by the interaction between the two owners and their underlings; Slippy and Erik knew everyone by name, and greeted everyone as they passed, and no matter how busy they were the technical workers showed some measure of respect for the pair of them. In the center of the room a dozen men clad in the raiment of KWEST - black vests bearing the company name and insignia enbroidered in pale green - swarmed around a gleaming single-man craft, and the three halted before it. Slippy approached, running his fingers over a small, circular indentation in the left flank; pulling a flat device from his pocket he inserted it into the leveled spot, and with a whirring sound a holographic image materialized.

Morray gasped; there in the air before him was a six-inch tall, computer transmitted image of Keil Ford.

When Morray had known Keil, the man had shown great promise as a chief technician of Arspace Division Three, which operated on the outskirts of a major Zonessian city. He was successful, goal-oriented, and even possessed a reckless streak that commanded a disregard for the rules, often landing him in prison and making him always unpredictable. Near the end of Lylat's second war Keil had become well acquainted with Slippy, seeing in the youngest Star Fox mercenary many of the qualities he himself possessed, and General Pepper had entrusted the two with the all-important task of destroying the shields around an enemy satellite. While attempting to escape Keil had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his own life to save Slippy.

It was Keil's unsurpassed genius that was largely responsible for KWEST's success, for just before his death he had given Slippy a disk that contained his entire life's work. From that disk Erik and Slippy had built a technological empire, named after them and their lost loved ones, for Erik too had lost his only brother.

"Well hello, Morray old chum!" exclaimed Keil, and the tiny generated figure dipped a small, comical bow. "I'd wondered when we'd see the likes of you 'round here!"

Morray's face was sickly pale; gazing curiously at Keil he asked quietly, "How is this possible!"

"We figure he downloaded some of his more important thoughts and memories onto the disk before he died," Slippy exclaimed, studying the small hologram with mild amusement. "We still don't know how he did it, or even just how much he remembers, but it's something."

Erik gestured to the flat, circular disk implanted into the ship's indentation, saying, "Anyway, he knows more about all of that stuff on the disk than w do, so we created these processing drives into all of th enew prototypes and software demos, complete with the metal scanner you see here. The scanner contains Keil's expertise on everything he ever designed; combined with each individual processing drive we can evaluate our progress and the potential of each new piece in correspondence with how Keil wanted them."

"In essence, I'm the brains behind this outfit, and they get all the credit," finished Keil peevishly, crossing his arms. "I'm just amazed all of you guys thought I would be dense enough to neglect leaving my mark on society!"

Slippy cleared his throat, drawing Keil's attention; the mercenary waved an arm toward the Arwing prototype, and Keil turned to face it.

"Right, well, let me introduce to you the very first line of the KWEST Arwing, which I like to call the Myst Alpha. Unlike its Arwing predecessors that feature one engine each on the rear right and left sides, the Myst series is highly distinguishable by a third engine dead-center. Because of this its speed surpasses even that of the Z-Infinity series." Here Keil offered Morray a sheepish smile. "I apologize for besting the Infinity that you yourself created, Doctor, but you are still my rival."

"I know and respect my rivals, respectable Mr. Ford," Morray acknowledged with a tip of his hat. "Please continue."

"The engine capacity is fifteen percent larger than the Infinity, making it that much faster," Keil went on. "What makes it so much better than any of the previous models is its versatility; the three of us combined the speed of the Fortunan makes, the maneuverability of the Katinan models, and the sheer power of the Cornerian series into a kind of spacecraft that's the best of all worlds. It's the quickest, the easiest to fly, and we've engineered a brand-new laser compound that's undergoing field testing as we speak. Erik?"

The younger Fortunan cleared his throat carefully and continued the description. "Originally we hadn't intended on chemically restoring new laser components, but after hearing Fox McCloud's detailed explanation of the final battle with Andross we decided otherwise. Somehow Andross was able to harness a stronger laser energy than we had at our disposal through psychic signatures and psionic brain-wave patterns, but after several weeks of testing we created a near copy of Fox's description."

Slippy tapped into a remote computer system nearby, summoning a miniature video clip of a trained professional firing off a few blasts of a white-grey laser energy that seemed to have a strange spiral to it. The beams were so bright, onlookers were forced to shield their eyes or shy away from it. "We call them obmion lasers," said the mercenary with satisfaction. "Their predecessors, the adamantite lasers, have the destructive power to obliterate any constructive metal known to Lylat. The obmions have the potential to blow up a star."

Keil grinned, thoroughly pleased with the proceedings; despite himself Morray's jaw gaped a little in awe and admiration. "Has it been tested?"

"Just last week Slippy and I took the obmion compound into deep space and tested it on a few dead stars," Erik continued. "They check out perfectly, leaving not a single atom behind."

"And the Myst Alpha cleared all of its test flights with flying colors," Slippy finished. "All we have left to do is combine the two and complete the tests, and the Myst series with the obmions will be the most unstoppable line of Arwing anyone has ever seen!"

Morray was pacing about the Arwing prototype now, admiring it from every angle with obvoius adoration. "I don't doubt that you have worked very hard these past few months, and it certainly shows in all of your data." Smiling he clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. "With a masterpiece such as this you certainly don't require my approval, but as I am here, go, and with my full blessings. And Keil - " Here Morray bowed long and low before the holographic image. "You have far surpassed my talents - for the moment. I commend you."

Keil gave a little salute, and his form disappeared. Slippy and Erik led the elder Fortunan outside.

"We thank you for coming," said Slippy, shaking Morray's hand warmly. "Your opinion means a lot to us; we're sort of new at this whole genius gig."

Erik embraced his adoptive father, saying, "And try not to let another six months slip by before you visit us again."

Morray held Erik back at arms' length, sizing him up for a moment, and he marveled at how much Erik seemed to have grown in his absence. "I won't. Do be certain to drop me a transmission in a few days' time." He smiled, and with the sun shining down upon him he seemed majestic, some kind of greatness they could not understand. "Now I must return to Fortuna, though - my girlfriend will become somewhat intolerable if I make her wait too long for me." With a slight tap on his bolero and a swish of his cape, Sensenic Morray started away from KWEST.

"Our best to Celestra! Don't let her get away!" came Slippy's cry from behind, and Erik elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

Morray turned and smiled mischeviously over his shoulder, and then he stepped onto his personal cruiser Ambassador and disappeared from view.