A/N: Two quick things. First off, I feel like I need to make note that any topics from this that can be related to real-world scenarios is entirely coincidental. Yet, I will say that there is minor influence, but not enough to get all up in arms.
Secondly, I will disclose that this next story arc, dubbed the "Subzero" arc, will be a collaborated effort between myself and the ever so lovely Elarix (yes, all the homo. ;)) because the gift I gave him for winning the one-shot contest last year he claims is way too much, so I gave him the option to even it up. These next three (?) chapters will be both of our work. Hope you guys are ready for that... :)
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Chapter IV — Hiraeth
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Hiraeth — (n.){rough Welsh translation}
A homesickness for a home to which you
cannot return, or a home which maybe
never was; the nostalgia, the yearning,
the grief for lost places in your past.
[҉]
"You can't be serious."
"I'm afraid I am."
"Is that…"
"Yep. That's her."
"And you—"
"Picked her up when you put her down."
"You planned this, didn't you?"
"What if I told you it was all one sheer coincidence?"
"I'd say you're crazy."
"Start talkin', runt."
"You're definitely crazy."
"That is a two syllable title put on people by minds too dense to conform."
"I'm amazed at how well your vocabulary improved over these years."
"Diplomats get you to talk with a certain… eloquence, because the gods above forgive that you sound like a complete idiot when you take the stage."
"About time somebody taught you something."
"Just shut up and get out of the car."
Fox snickered and slipped out of the passenger seat, turning around to see the other SUV and the two motorcycles pull up behind him. He then looked around at the distorted, arid surroundings, seeing nothing but a thin film of red-orange sand clouding close to the tarmac. Finally, he looked forward, staring with a slightly agape muzzle at the sight of an all-too-familiar mothership. Even with its appearance altered slightly, the iconic design and shape was still there, and although it now sported a new name under a new owner, he still couldn't help but smile at his pride and joy still operational.
The vulpine looked back through the windows of his SUV, seeing Wolf standing proud in the shadow of the Great Fox—er, now called the Vigilant by her new owner. He tapped a digit on the glass, momentarily getting Wolf's attention.
"You gonna gloat more or are we loading up?"
Wolf nodded and traversed to the back of the truck, Fox following. The lupine already had the back end open by the time the vulpine made it back, and was starting to grab a few of the many bags that had been stuffed back there.
"Got room for Foxie's truck?" Natalia spoke up, removing her motorcycle helmet and releasing the tidal wave of blonde locks in the process.
"Plenty," Wolf answered confidently. "Just worry about you and Powalski getting your bikes in there. Dahlstrom, Kajær; help get these bags out."
"Would it kill you to say please?" Adam whined.
"Yes, it would," Wolf countered with a smug smirk. "Just stick 'em in the spare room for now. We'll sort it out later. We might actually need them again when we get Stazac on board."
"If, you mean," the blue jay added.
"When, I mean," Wolf corrected. "Now, just worry about the gear. I'm gonna show our new addition his quarters."
Fox picked out his bag of belongings and slung it over his shoulders, nodding as Wolf stepped forward. They trudged along the sand-covered tarmac, creating a path with how their boots scattered the dust as they approached the gaping hangar bay. Inside were four Wolfen fighters, suspended from the ceiling with their cockpits aligned with the catwalk above. Two of the fighters looked like they haven't been launched in years, with a layer of dust and webbing clogging in each crevice. One looked in prime condition; polished, cleaned, and well maintained, while the other had a few scuffs and chips, but other than that looked brand new as well. Nevertheless, Wolf continued forward, not stopping until they got to the heavy airlock at the back of the hangar.
"Still looks as good as ever," Fox murmured, watching as Wolf swiped a card on the receiver next to the door, prompting it to split and retract into the walls holding it up. "You're taking good care of her."
"A merc's visual appeal will attract contractors," Wolf explained, the door shutting behind their tails once they passed through into the main hall. "Just think about it; would you rather hire a team with a run-down mothership or a team with a beauty like this?"
"Well, you gotta think about the crew inside," Fox explained. "It's kinda like that industrial rivalry between Aerospace Dynamics and Phoenix Industries. Even though Phoenix had a brilliant display and easily had the visual appeal, I chose ASD because they had the better equipment, even though their headquarters is set in an abandoned freight warehouse. I choose functionality over looks."
"Suit yourself," Wolf huffed, stuffing his paws into his jacket. "Everyone else would beg to differ. I've gotten a lot of people requesting my service, but many don't pay as much as the job demands. That's basically why I accepted Muzzin's deal as soon as I got it."
"And you accepted his ideas and morals once you saw the tag the job provided?"
"That doesn't matter once you get into this field," Wolf dismissively responded.
"How did I know you were about to say that?" Fox about scoffed. "What, was that whole word-vomit about Muzzin being a misunderstood politician just his words that you regurgitated back to me?"
"Not entirely," Wolf gently elbowed the vulpine. "But, even though I'm biased for the payout, and would do anything to back my cause up to make it seem like the best idea, I really believe that what he's got planned is great."
"You sure it's not that money talking?" Fox said with slight skepticism.
"I may not be the most educated person in Lylatian politics," Wolf started.
"Not educated at all, if you ask me," Fox said under his breath.
"But I at least have the common sense to see that what he has planned is better than what's going on now," Wolf finished, a glare creeping onto his face. "Remember what I said about the visual appeal? People see that this will change everything, so they side against it. They fail to see that the system we have now is obviously screwed up beyond all recognition, and is visibly corrupt. I'm siding with him because I'm honestly excited to see him reshape the entire LHC."
"Are you secretly Muzzin's son?" Fox blurted out. "You sound just like him."
"Wouldn't that be something else?" Wolf chuckled. "Funny you say that, runt. No, I'm not biologically related, but here's your plot twist for the day: Victor is actually my stepfather."
"Your stepfather is Senator Muzzin?" Fox echoed in disbelief.
"My real father got a divorce when I was still young," Wolf relayed, turning down a different corridor. "I still hated that dick. Cost me and my mom almost everything. My first taste of mercenary work started when I was sixteen to try to support what little family we still had. Then word started getting out, so we had to flee. Sought asylum on Macbeth."
"I assume you met him there?" Fox asked.
"My mother—bless her soul—worked for a restaurant when Victor came in once. Two years later they got married. Say much about what went down that day?"
"Well now I know where you got your job from," Fox smirked knowingly. "And you say that I've got a terrible case of nepotism."
"Don't kid yourself, pup," Wolf butted in. "He didn't hand me anything. He made me work for it, and damn did he do a good job in doing that instead of handing me jobs. Getting my experience up, tightening my skills, and building a name for myself is what he wanted me to do before he entrusted me with his unorthodox campaign method. But, as good as he was at being a trainer, he definitely was that father figure I didn't have. When my mom died about four years ago, I was lost. But he helped me through it, just like your old man would to you."
Fox smiled. "So there is a bit of heart underneath all of that," he remarked playfully, poking at the lupine's orange undershirt.
Wolf growled and pushed his arm away. "Don't be going gay on me, McCloud."
"Is there something you don't like about gay people?" the vulpine blurted out.
"No, I just don't want you turning into your brother," Wolf moaned, pulling out another key card. "Is he, like, painfully gay?"
"Come again?" Fox questioned curiously.
"Is he tolerable?" Wolf deadpanned.
"Well, to me personally, yeah," Fox explained. "He's a little strange, but aren't we all in a way?"
"You better hope that he doesn't get on my nerves," the lupine grunted, swiping the card on the door he stopped at. It unlocked instantly, allowing him to push the door forwards and step inside, Fox following him in.
It was just a standard room; a single bed, small desk, and a tiny area nestled in the corner for the private bathroom. It looked exactly like Fox's room when he had control of the ship. In fact…
"Hey, this might be my old room," Fox commented, setting his bag down by the desk.
"It is," Wolf answered, a sly smile creasing his muzzle. "You're welcome."
"I would have guessed you'd jump on this because of the private bathroom," the vulpine stated, trotting up to the window next to the bed.
"Natty's got the other room with that, and the bathroom is nicer than this one," Wolf explained.
"Speaking of her," Fox started, sitting down on the bedside as he flicked his bushy tail into place. "Don't you think that referring to her and Sheila is a little degrading, calling them property and all?"
"So?"
"I just think it's—"
"Nobody asked your opinion," Wolf interrupted. "They're my girls. They should be thankful that I'm giving them this opportunity."
Fox found it pointless to even continue the conversation, so he just stayed silent.
"We're taking off in a few," the wolf stated abruptly, grabbing the doorframe. "I'll let you know when we get to Corneria. Should only be a few hours if your FTL drive still works on her."
Fox smirked. "Cool."
With that, Wolf shut the vulpine's door, leaving Fox to unpack some of his belongings for the long trip.
[҉]
Caravan Palace — "Russian" {YouTube, Spotify}
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Hours after takeoff, Fox found himself lost in the view the large porthole in his room provided. Aside from inky blackness, bands of bright stardust and dots of faraway stars painted a brilliant picture that he couldn't help but become transfixed on. Views like this reminded him of the old days, where he would go to that same spot in between missions and stare out at the beauty that space provided.
He had already eaten with his new team, which was an interesting moment indeed. He felt out of place with the discussions, the humor was a bit—well, much, rather—too dark for him to laugh at, and most of all he was stuck next to Wolf at the table, whose boisterously loud table etiquette made it impossible to enjoy a meal in his new team's company. Nevertheless, after he was done, he made his way up to his quarters and settled down for however long the jump from Papetoon to Corneria would take. He hadn't been to Corneria in so long that he honestly forgot how long it took.
Sitting alone made him think of his old team. How they might hate him if word ever got out that he joined his rival's team after supposedly hanging up his wings for good. He regretted his decision. Everyone from his family to his critics were right; he hung them up too soon. Living in retirement was way too boring, especially since he didn't have anyone to enjoy it with. Life as he knew it was swinging away without anything to take up his now plentiful amount of free time he found himself with.
Half of him wants to believe that he accepted Wolf's deal for the money, but the other half told him that it was the opportunity of excitement. He was given the opportunity to join up with what he wrongfully abandoned, and now that he was a part of it, he couldn't wait to get started. Getting used to the new team would definitely be a hassle, but who was he to complain? He got his life back in the most convenient of times.
The door to his quarters rustled as a soft knock fell upon his ears. Fox let out a silent sigh, internally praying that it wasn't Wolf, and picked himself up to trot over to the door. His hind digits clicked against the metallic floor, giving the person on the other side the hint that he indeed was answering the call, and after a few seconds, the door flung open.
Fox's eyes widened. "Sheila?"
"H-h-hi F-F-F-Fox," the copper husky said, her teeth clattering together as she tightened the thick blanket around her frame. "C-c-can I s-s-stay here for a bit?"
"What's up?" Fox asked concernedly.
"The j-jump drive t-t-takes up s-s-so much energy that s-s-some of our r-rooms loose heat. W-Wolf told me t-t-t-to ask you if I-I-I could stay here f-f-for the trip."
"Oh, sure," Fox said, and without a moment of hesitation the husky barreled right through him, tossing herself onto his bed and tightly curling the blanket up after her preliminary bounce on the mattress. Fox chuckled and resealed the door, walking back up to his bed that now had a large lump covered in a black and pink flannel pattern blanket on top.
"Thanks Fox," Sheila's muffled voice breathed. "I owe you for this."
"Don't mention it," Fox smirked. "Hey, wanna see something?"
Sheila's head—and about a third of her cinnamon colored hair—poked out of her makeshift blanket fortress and stared back at the vulpine. "What is it?"
Fox trotted over to his desk and pulled it out from against the wall. "This was my old room when this was still the Great Fox. Unless he did something, there should still be a little trick right here. Aaaand here it is."
Fox flicked a switch hidden away by the desk, and all of a sudden a faint hum emanated from beneath the floor. Sheila looked around the room, confused, but suddenly gasped when she felt a warm rush of air meet her face.
"My personal heater," Fox smirked, plopping himself down at the foot of the bed. "Solar powered, doesn't use any of the ship's generator power. Pretty cool right?"
"Uh, yeah!" Sheila yipped with a tone that implied Fox was stupid for even asking that. "This is awesome! I feel like I'm— wait, hold on. Just lemme scoot over to— there! Now I'm right in the draft. Ahhh this feels nice…"
Fox chuckled at her actions, watching as her full head of voluminous locks waved in the artificial wind. She casted the blanket aside, rolling over onto her back to bask in the warm jet stream shooting out from the ceiling with an agape muzzle, her tongue limply hanging out as well. No wonder she was cold; all she had on was a skimpy pale violet t-shirt and a pair of thick, incredibly soft pajama pants with basic white silhouettes of feral wolves dotting the deep magenta fleece material. After a few moments of letting the heat soothe her chills, she pulled out a pocket size device and held it with both her paws as she scooted up to rest her back against the headboard, intentionally sticking her bare hind paws in the stream of heat.
"I'm surprised Wolf didn't find out about this," Sheila commented, addressing the personal heating unit. "If he knew he'd be all over this room."
Fox laughed along softly, pressing his feet against the bed to push his back against the window. He glanced over, beginning to stare out of the large viewing area his room was blessed with, but after a few minutes Sheila piped up again.
"Something wrong, Fox?"
Fox sighed, accidentally fogging up the glass with his breath. "Just thinking about my old team," he answered distantly.
Sheila set her handheld game on the desk right next to the bed. "You miss them?"
"Yeah," Fox said, shutting his eyes. "It's really weird being on a mission and not having them on the team. It's times like this that I regret disbanding my team. I should've stayed with them."
The copper husky tossed her feet onto the ground and scooted up closer to the vulpine. "Do you wanna talk about it? I've always known that talking to a friend about something hard to talk about makes it easier on you."
"Thanks," Fox said, but immediately waved his paw dismissively. "But I don't want to talk about it. It hurts too much."
Sheila made a slight pouty face at him. "Come on, Fox, it's okay. I'm your friend here, right?"
"I just don't feel comfortable talking about it," Fox replied. "Maybe later."
Sheila's ears fell flat. "Okay. Sorry I bugged you."
Fox reopened his eyes to see Sheila scoot back away, pressing her back against the headboard again. He sighed again, glancing back out of his viewing window with an evidently distant stare. The light copper husky could see the reflection of stars and illuminated dust in his emerald green eyes, worrying her even more. With much more inflection, yet keeping her tone subdued enough to hide her urgency, Sheila flipped onto her knees and said, "Something's bothering you."
"I'm okay," Fox tried to assure, avoiding eye contact. "Just a little homesick."
"Fox…" she said gently, scooting up closer to him. "I promise; this'll just be between us two. Tell me what's wrong."
Fox sighed and let his head fall back against the reinforced glass. "I feel like I'm stabbing my friends and family in the back doing this. I lied to my parents to keep this operation under wraps, and now I'm abandoning my friends by getting into a different mercenary group when I told them I wouldn't come back."
Sheila slipped alongside him and rubbed her shoulder on his. "Well, you've got us, right?"
"I barely know any of you guys, aside from Wolf, and even at that my friends back in the Star Fox days were my friends for years," Fox nearly lamented, letting his shoulders and tail slump. "Not to be rude, but you guys don't know as much about me as the guys from Star Fox did."
"Well, we've got a while," Sheila smiled, gently wrapping her arm over his neck. "Do you want to start?"
Fox cocked an eyebrow. "Start with what?"
"Start with telling our stories, silly," she giggled, a friendly nudge following. "To get to know each other better. I've probably got your everyday generic and tragic backstory that everyone else has, so I want to hear from you first. Tell me about yourself."
The red fox slowly nodded his head. "Oh, uh, okay. For starters, even though I lived on Corneria for most of my life, I was born on Papetoon. Luckily, Corneria avoided war when I was only a few years old, because if they didn't, we would have moved to Corneria so that my dad could enlist in the CDF. Four years later I got my younger brother Todd, and then four more years after that, my sister, Paige. But, I remember this; I was only eight when I saw Paige for the first time, and she was really sick. We had to go to Corneria to go to a special neurologist because she had nasty problems she would have died from had we not."
Fox glanced out of the window again. "They cured Paige, but we stayed on Corneria because my father got in touch with some of his closest friends while we were there, and they managed to get the CDF's approval to start a mercenary company to try to stimulate the CDF's strength. It worked, so he decided to have us set up shop on Corneria. We lived just like any other family since then."
"How'd you get into the mercenary scene?" Sheila asked curiously.
"My father passed on his team to me," the vulpine answered. "I was only eighteen when he passed the lead role to me, after I got experience, of course. We were the main offensive force in the Lylat Wars."
"I knew that," Sheila giggled, a wide smile plastering her muzzle. "I fought alongside you one mission."
Fox's eyes widened. "Wait, you did?"
Sheila nodded, shuffling her legs underneath her backside as her tail started to wag. "I was in the Husky Squadron's main division ever since I was nineteen. Pretty cool, right?"
"Really?" Fox gapped. "That's amazing! You must've been one hell of a pilot."
"I set a few records in training," she unconsciously boasted, flipping her hair for good measure. "Got promoted to lead pilot during the Lylat Wars when I was twenty-four and ran a bunch of reconnaissance missions. By now I would've been a Brigadier General with how fast I was moving up in the ranks."
Fox's lower jaw fell on the floor. "Wow."
"As for getting where I am now, there's kind of a strange story to that," she started, lowering her muzzle. "You mind if I retell?"
"Please."
Sheila took a deep breath. "We, the Husky Squadron, went out to investigate a claim of potential chemical weapons being manufactured on Fichina. We almost made it all the way around before we were ambushed by an extremist group. I went down hard, probably would have frozen to death if I had stayed there longer. But, after I blacked out, I woke up in an underground base, completely patched up and warm. Wolf told me it was he who found me and took care of me. He saved my life."
"Is that why he keeps calling you property?" Fox inquired.
"He feels like I still owe him for saving my life," the husky explained. "I can't leave or else he'll report me to the CDF for treason, and with as bad as it was—seemingly faking my death and all—I might be locked up for the rest of my life, or maybe worse. I can't leave."
"But you shouldn't let Wolf treat you like an object," the vulpine pointed out.
"I can't rebel against him either," she added. "I have to do what he says, or I'm gone. I've been lucky to get away from sleeping with him, but it's still scary. I can hardly sleep at night because I'm afraid he might rape me while I'm sleeping. I can't tell him no because he'll turn me in, and I have no say in the matter."
Fox shook his head. "It still doesn't give him a right. You're better than being a prisoner to his needs. Wolf needs to see that you are naturally gifted, and shouldn't belittle you to a mere slave. I would never do that to my team."
Sheila just started back at him with wide sky blue eyes. A small grin formed on one side of her muzzle as her eyes began to gloss over. Fox cocked his head at her, prompting the husky to let out a small hiccup as a single tear formed in her right eye and slipped down her cheek.
"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," Sheila cried, lunging forward and locking Fox into a rather strong hug. Fox 'oof'ed in surprise, more because of the hidden strength the husky possessed, but, after taking a few moments to regather his bearings, he tentatively slid his arms around her and gave her that reassuring touch. Within moments, Sheila essentially melted into the embrace, letting out a bursting levee of emotions as she clung onto the vulpine with an almost possessive grip.
Fox gently rubbed her back as the tears continued to flow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get you worked up."
"No," Sheila interrupted hoarsely, peeling herself out of Fox's shoulder. Quickly clearing her throat and tossing her hair back into place (for the most part), she continued, "No, I'm… really glad you said that. I was beginning to think that Wolf was the only one that… tried to care, ya know? It's nice to hear another voice."
"Well, what are you gonna do about him?" Fox asked. "If his threats are true, you can't tell him off."
"What do you think I should do?" the husky questioned right back, starting to become flustered. "I mean, you're right, I can't tell him off, but I'm really getting tired of his belittling treatment."
"Well, maybe try to be a little rougher," Fox suggested. "Wolf expects you to not put up a fight. Maybe if you can get under his pelt little by little, he'll start to give you space. That's what I did with my father, and in showing him that, he made the connection that I was beginning to show signs of a true leader. He probably wouldn't have given me the rights to Star Fox had I not shown that little defiance."
"You really think that'll work?" she whispered, her eyes growing wide again.
"If it doesn't, I'll stick up for you," Fox added. "Wolf may not show it much, but he respects me. He wouldn't have given me this offer if he didn't. I can maybe knock a little sense into him."
Sheila's smile grew wider and wider. "Thank you so much," she said, pulling Fox into yet another hug. Chuckling sheepishly, Fox weakly returned the friendly gesture. Yet, as soon as he tried to pull away, Sheila tightened her hold and flung herself backwards, taking the vulpine with her. Fox yelped in predominant shock when he fell back and immediately tried to pull himself up, but Sheila quickly clamped her arms around him and didn't allow him to even make the slightest attempt to get up.
"Why?" Fox groaned, wheezing with how much pressure she was applying to his chest. "Sheila, ow!"
"You're so soft," Sheila squealed somewhat boisterously, pressing her face into Fox's cheek fluff. "And so cute too."
Fox felt the tips of his ears burn. "Uh, thanks?"
Sheila just giggled, nuzzling her muzzle into his neck as her vice grip managed to tighten even further. "This is comfy…"
Jeez, my mom was right about huskies being affectionate, Fox thought to himself, barely able to breathe with the pressure on his chest. She's gonna kill me. I'm literally going to die from a hug. I survive a nasty war, get shot at hundreds of times, almost manage to get my tail blown off, and what to I die to? A freakin' tall-ass husky with a truck-full of hair hugging me until I suffocate.
"You're not gonna let go, are you?" Fox hoarsely whispered.
"Not a chance," Sheila giggled innocently, seemingly unaware of the fact that she's crushing her prey. "I'm staying like this until we land."
"Well, can I at least get more comfortable if I'm gonna be here for a few hours?" Fox pleaded, desperately gasping for air.
"Swear?" Sheila said seriously, pressing her nose against his cheek.
"Yes, I swear," Fox whined at the wet sensation on his face. "I can't breathe."
The husky released her grip, allowing Fox to gasp for air, sequentially starting up a coughing fit in the process. He took a sip from his water bottle sitting next to his backpack to kill off the cough, then laid back down and braced himself for her vice grip. Yet, he was pleasantly surprised when all she did was lazily lay her arm over him and snuggle up to his furry neck like before.
"Better?" she breathed into his ear, causing it to violently jerk around. She giggled, letting out another breath to make his ear twitch once more. "Oh my gods that is adorable. Fox, your ear is all spazzy."
"It tickles," he admitted, disbelieving how degrading his situation looked. Good gods above, when will she stop? I feel like I'm turning into a pile of mush.
"I never expected the great Fox McCloud to be such a teddy bear," she giggled childishly, putting a bit more force on her half-assed hold on the vulpine.
I want to go home, Fox deadpanned in his mind. Enough of this floof. I feel like I'm being raped. Oh my gods—and now she's touching my tail. I'm gonna scream. She's definitely worse than Fara was.
"And your tail is so SOFT!" Sheila yipped right in his ear, causing him to flinch in pain. "Okay, that's it. I'm not sleeping alone again."
For the love of—
"Fox, I don't care what you say, but you're my boyfriend now," Sheila blurted out, again burying her face into Fox's neck fluff. "You're my Foxie now, just so I can snuggle with you."
You have got to be—
"Do you mind if you take your shirt off? I wanna feel how fuzzy you are."
FFFFUUUUUUU—