"How ya feelin', Mr. McCloud?" Dr. Kaspar asked.
Fox opened his eyes, feeling generally at peace with the world, even though in the back of his mind, he still needed to figure out what was causing the Sargasso distress beacon.
"Disappointed," he mused.
"About what?"
"I was supposed to be headed to the Sargasso Station today. Instead, I wound up in a hospital with a concussion."
"Well, think about it this way. If you sustained a concussion in space, there wouldn't be anyone to help."
A debilitating injury was something that Fox always worried about during a mission. But he learned throughout his career that you have to learn how to fight through it. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.
"About three hours. You look a lot more coherent now, so I can discharge you if all your diagnostic tests pass."
"That sounds great," Fox said.
The doctor went through the same diagnostic tests: checking for pupil dilation, checking for double vision and a quick test of Fox's visual acuity. This time, Fox could read all of the characters on the vision card. He passed those tests with flying colors.
"So far, it looks good," Dr. Kaspar said. "Can you stand?"
Fox moved slowly, afraid his head might start pounding again. But getting to an upright position was no problem at all.
"Close your eyes and touch your nose with your right index finger."
Fox did as he was told. The doctor must have been satisfied because he continued, "Keeping your eyes closed, hold your arms straight in front of you." Without delay, Fox's arms moved up. He didn't feel any problems. "Open your eyes and stand on your right foot." Fox's left foot came off the ground. He held his balance without any trouble.
Dr. Kaspar nodded. He wrote something on his datapad with a stylus and tapped the screen a few times. "You're good to go," he told Fox. "If you can, get at least two days of rest because you're still concussed."
"What?" Fox said. "I thought you said I was fine."
"I did. But concussions remain for a period of time after the symptoms are gone. For at least a few days, it'll be very easy for you to sustain another one. You'll probably heal fully in about a week or so."
Just then, the door opened to reveal a snow leopard in scrubs. Probably a triage nurse. "Discharge?" she asked as she took the datapad from Dr. Kaspar.
"Yes, for Mr. McCloud. Make sure he gets a meal ticket." The doctor turned to Fox and said, "You'll need to change back into your gear before you leave. We need the gown back."
"Got it." Fox noticed his flight gear was neatly folded next to his radio collar.
"I'll wait just outside the door," the nurse said. Fox nodded as the two of them left. He replaced his gown with his jumpsuit, flight jacket and boots and stowed the radio collar in his right jacket pocket. Even though this getup advertised him to the rest of the world, he felt almost invincible when he was wearing it. Almost.
Fox left the gown on the bed and opened the door. The triage nurse led him through the maze of corridors to the check out window.
"Hi, Mr. McCloud," the nurse on duty said brightly.
"Here's the datapad from Dr. Kaspar. He also said to give him a meal ticket," the nurse accompanying Fox said.
The nurse behind the window looked through the datapad and said, "Excellent. Here ya go." She handed him a scrap of paper about the size of an index card. The meal ticket. "The café is behind you and to the right."
"Okay. Thanks," Fox said.
"Stay safe!" she called after him.
Yeah, right, Fox thought. His line of work was anything but safe. He turned right and entered the café. And as luck would have it, Falco, Slippy and Peppy were sitting at a table, eating what looked to be yogurt. Peppy waved at Fox. Fox acknowledged him, but before sitting down with them, he selected what he wanted to eat using a datapad at the counter. After he was finished, the screen prompted him for his name, so he typed "McCloud." Afterward, the screen instructed him to sit down, so he joined his teammates.
"At least the yogurt is good, because I missed a vacation in Sargasso today," Falco said sarcastically, eyeing Fox with a sideways glance.
"Yeah, well, life happens occasionally," Fox replied.
"So, um, what happened?" Slippy asked.
Fox sighed, but he was at least somewhat grateful all three of them were here. He only had to say it once. "All I know is that I was in a taxi heading toward the shuttle docking port, and then I woke up with a concussion and shrapnel damage."
"What kind of shrapnel?" Falco asked.
"Glass fragments. The window on my left must've blown during the crash."
"That musta hurt," Slippy said quietly.
Fox looked at him and shrugged. "I don't remember anything from it." Silence fell over the group for a brief moment.
"Hey, Fox, your doctor came and talked to me about his son," Peppy said, breaking the silence.
"Oh, yeah," Fox said. "He said his son was a fighter pilot for the Cornerian military."
"Well, I was able to pull his record here, and I'd like for you to start training him. Maybe not as a team member, but as more of a contractor."
Fox groaned on the inside. He half-expected Ben to be this rank-and-file pilot who he could brush off after saying hello. But Peppy immediately jumped to training him. That was something he didn't have the patience for. He had tried once with the Cornerian military after the Aparoid threat had ended, hoping to earn at least some income as a flight instructor. But his impatient, sink-or-swim attitude clashed with almost everyone there.
"Yeah, I know you struggle with training," Peppy said. "But this kid is almost as good as you were in the Academy."
Fox rolled his eyes, having heard that line several times from ranking officers in the Academy. But this was the first time Peppy himself had said this to him. And besides, Peppy told Fox to ignore what the officers were saying when they talked up their pilots.
"Really, Fox. Get him a little time in an Arwing. I want him to join you for the Sargasso assignment that was supposed to happen today."
Fox gave a fake laugh. "Are you serious? I can't just let someone tag along on a mission like this. There's no way I'm going to babysit him the entire time."
"Do you remember what I said about pulling his record?" Peppy asked. Fox simply looked at him. "You know those records are completely objective. He's put in over two hundred simulation hours for an Arwing alone. He fought against the Anglars as point man for his formation during their attack on Corneria City."
Fox sighed, knowing he couldn't get out of this one. "All right," he said. "But if he looks even slightly lost, he's gone."
"Deal," Peppy said quickly. There was no use in bargaining. He just had to trust that Ben would show his flying experience and let Fox make his judgment after that.
At that point, a server walked out with a plate laden with Fox's meal. A cup of assorted in-season fruit, a club sandwich and a glass of water.
"Here you are, Mr. McCloud. Enjoy," the server said, placing the plate and glass in front of Fox. He took the meal ticket off the table and left without another word.
"Hey, I thought hospitals were supposed to have bad food!" Slippy exclaimed.
Fox grinned at him. "Looks like this one's an exception." He began eating. The food tasted as delicious as it looked.
The four Star Fox members walked out of the hospital and into the short-term parking lot. Slippy and Peppy both drove here, and both of their vehicles were stationed reasonably close. Slippy had deactivated his hover feature, allowing his sedan to charge its batteries through contact with the pavement. Peppy's SUV was still hovering, so he must have had plenty of charge left.
"HEY, UGLY!" a voice rang out across the way.
Slippy and Peppy both fell for it and looked in that direction. Fox noticed Slippy wince slightly when he figured out he'd been had.
"Probably just a street thug who doesn't have anything better to do," Falco mused as he slowly turned his gaze. He was right on that count. Slippy and Peppy were looking at a coyote who obviously spent a stupidly long time making sure he looked tough.
"Hey, look! It's the Star Fucks!" the coyote shouted, rushing forward. He was aiming at Slippy, probably assuming he couldn't fight as well as Fox, Falco or Peppy.
Slippy took a few steps back, taken by surprise by this thug's aggression. And suddenly, an arm wrapped around his neck. Slippy jumped, his blood chilling as he realized this thug had a crony. And they had a plan too. But he noticed there was almost no threat from the thug's arm. He had no idea how to deliver a choke, so it ended up being a clumsy headlock.
"I GOT THE FROG!" the thug shouted from behind. "Not so hot without your plane, ribbit?" He waited for a beat and cackled, obviously thrilled at his own joke.
"Hold him there, lemme kick the shit outta him," the first thug said from in front as he began striding forward.
Slippy rolled his eyes in annoyance, knowing he was about to take complete control of this situation. He slid a little to his left and his right fist immediately shot backwards, toward the coyote's groin. Slippy's fist hit true, causing the coyote's eyes to widen in shock. He grunted and immediately bent over in abject pain, releasing his hold on Slippy to protect himself from further abuse.
Before the coyote could gather himself, Slippy stepped backwards with his right leg, his foot ending between the coyote's. He rammed the thug with his right shoulder and got an added bonus when he connected with the coyote's snout. The coyote wailed in pain, unable to respond to what Slippy was doing. Slippy simply waited for the coyote to get a short distance away, shuffle-stepped and kicked him in the groin for the coup de grâce. Slippy's right foot connected with a dull thud, lifting the coyote off the ground slightly, and as he came back down, he quickly collapsed with an agonized moan, his face nearly torn in two from his grimace.
Fox grinned at what Slippy had done to the coyote. Something the Cornerian military never taught in combat operatives, but it worked all the same anyway. He glanced at the other thug and noticed him standing, rooted to his spot in horror.
Slippy quickly turned back around, ready to confront the other coyote.
The other thug stood ten feet away from Slippy, shocked that someone could fight in such a brutally unfair way.
"NO FAIR!" he finally shouted as his brain finally started to get over the carnage.
Slippy calmly replied, "I don't do 'fair.' If you wanna throw down, there's a hospital that way," he said, jerking his right thumb backwards over his shoulder. "Now get your mangled friend out of here, or I'll let one of these three turn you into a suitable material for paving roads." Fox, Falco and Peppy glared at the thug. Falco took a step forward, forcing him to decide quickly.
Fox thought it was a little humorous that Slippy had so calmly threatened this thug in front of him. His high-pitched voice contrasted sharply with the brutal nature of the abuse he doled out on the coyote.
"All right! All right! Shit! Just…just get outta here!" the other coyote shouted. His voice had taken on a decidedly higher pitch now that he was scared for his life. After seeing what the frog did so easily, he shuddered to think what those other three Star Fox members could do to him. Especially the blue bird, who was glaring lasers at him.
"He said for you to leave," Falco said. "And get this shit out of the way. Unless you wanna remove him from the road with a spatula."
It didn't take long for the coyote to realize that none of them was joking. He began walking in a roundabout path to his friend, avoiding the Star Fox team. He did his best to look "cool" as he gathered his friend and helped him walk away. The injured coyote whimpered in pain the entire time. The two thugs slowly hobbled away from the Star Fox team and away from the hospital.
"You know, that felt really good," Slippy said with a massive grin as the two coyotes got out of earshot.
"That looked really good," Fox exclaimed, turning to face him.
"They remind me of some of the Hot Rodders," Falco said with disinterest.
"How so?" Peppy asked.
"Some of them would pick a fight with anyone. As long as they were important or famous. If they could beat him, it'd be a badge of honor…so to speak. Didn't matter how they won."
"Don't you think it's weird that the other thug is helping the one Slippy destroyed?" Fox asked.
Falco shrugged. He was the one out of the four of them who had the most experience with gangs. "Not really. He knew we weren't playing around, and both of them getting injured at once wouldn't buy them any favors from above. But they're S.O.L. no matter what," he said with a slight grin.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Peppy asked Slippy.
"Why? Is it 'against the rules?'" Slippy taunted.
"Well, no, but we'd never teach anyone those techniques for combat ops."
"I know. I just used what works. And I kinda wanted to send a message to that other thug."
Fox laughed. "You did that, all right. He almost puked watching what you did."
Just then, a security guard, a tall lion, came running toward the Star Fox team. "Mr. McCloud! Sir, please, I need you four to stay here."
"I don't think we have a choice," Peppy said, his shoulders drooping slightly.
The security guard beckoned them toward the hospital building and said, "Follow me, please."
Inside the security office, the guard sat down behind his desk as the Star Fox team pulled up seats of their own. "What's your name?" he asked, pointing at Slippy.
"S-Slippy Toad," he said. Falco rolled his eyes imperceptibly. One of his pet peeves about Slippy was how he stuttered when he was in a pressure situation. Granted, he was getting better at talking normally, but it seemed like his brain short-circuited a little at times like this.
"Okay, Slippy, I just want you to know one thing about what happened out there," the guard said. "Unless that coyote has an unbelievably good lawyer, his case will never hold up in court if he tries to sue."
All four of them breathed a collective sigh of relief. Even defending yourself against an attack nowadays could quickly result in a lawsuit.
"Still, I need you to fill out this report, because everything was recorded on our security cameras. We need to have an affidavit saying that you defended yourself." The guard handed Slippy a datapad and stylus.
"I can do that," Slippy said objectively. And began writing.
"As for you three," the guard continued. "If that coyote decides to sue, you'll have to be witnesses. And unfortunately, you will have to testify. Okay?"
"Yessir."
"All right."
"I understand."
The guard rested his elbows on the table and made a show of massaging his temples with his hands. "In cases like this, I really wish you could just walk away. We've been having trouble with those thugs for about three months, and I can't tell you how much better I feel, now that you've scared them off."
Slippy perked and sarcastically said, "Well, if you need my help again, you know where to find me."
The guard and Peppy chuckled.
"Are they part of a gang?" Fox asked.
"We think so. Law enforcement for the West Hill district has found several different thugs with the same general style of clothing and behavior. But those two in particular have nearly caused several of our patients to die. They like to stall the paramedics and watch the patients they bring in suffer."
"Are they going through an initiation?" Falco asked.
The guard shrugged. "Law enforcement has been having trouble catching anyone from this gang. It seems as our surveillance improves, they figure out a way to beat it every time. We don't know if they have figured out every little hole in our system, if they're bribing the police or what. Maybe this time, your 'victim' will start talking."
Slippy looked up slightly from the datapad and grinned.
The guard's eyes moved toward the door behind the Star Fox team. "Oh. Mr. McCloud, Dr. Kaspar would like to speak with you."
"Am I free to go?" Fox asked. The guard nodded to him. Fox stood and walked away from the guard's desk.
"If you have a few moments, I'd really like for you to meet my son," Dr. Kaspar said to him.
"He's here?"
"Yes. He surprised me with a visit."
Fox remembered what he promised to Dr. Kaspar and said, "I'd like to bring Peppy and Falco with us."
The doctor's eyes brightened. "You have no idea how much this'll mean to Ben. Really."
"Be right back."
Within a minute, Fox, Falco and Peppy were walking down the corridor with Dr. Kaspar. They turned a corner and entered a lobby. At one of the tables, a young-looking bear with dark fur was sitting, seemingly waiting.
"Ben?" Dr. Kaspar said. The young bear looked up. "This is the Star Fox team."
His eyes widened as he stood. Ben strode toward Fox with his right hand outstretched. Fox met his eyes and shook hands with him.
"Fox McCloud. Your dad told me about you."
Ben grinned and replied, "Ben Kaspar." He let go of Fox's hand and introduced himself to Falco and Peppy. For having a dream of simply meeting the Star Fox team, he still had a confident handshake.
After the greetings, Peppy asked, "Can we sit? I'd like to talk with you."
Ben stood rooted to his spot for a brief moment, trying to process what he had heard. He knew it was a long shot to even meet the Star Fox team. But to be invited to a discussion with them? How important did they think he was? He clumsily turned and sat back down in his seat with a lot of effort.
Throughout the conversation, Ben thought he was being attentive. But everything Peppy, Falco and Fox said seemed to wash over his head. It was bizarre, seeing how he had this dream of meeting the Star Fox team, and then it finally happened. But he never planned for what he should do next.
"I pulled your record from the military," Peppy said to Ben, who finally brought his mind back to the present tense. "And I'd like for you to begin training in an Arwing."
Ben looked at Peppy in mild shock for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "Um…Sir?"
"Starting this afternoon, Falco and Fox will be helping you fly an Arwing. Are you willing to do that?"
Ben didn't want to come off as too excited. "Absolutely, sir. I'll be ready," he said with conviction.
Peppy smiled at him. "Good. You've got a day and a half to prove yourself to them. You do that, and you'll be headed to the Sargasso Station the day after tomorrow."
