A/N: *comes out wearing a red vest* Why hello there neighbors. It's wonderful to see you all again.
Sword: *is wearing a green vest* I think I hear the trolley coming along neighbors. *Picks up the letter off the trolley and tosses it behind her* Well I cannot read. But I'm sure that it says that we own none of the characters and that they are owned by Nintendo. And we co-own the plot with our good neighbor, lines22. And that it wants us to thank Chocovi for being a good neighbor to beta read this and all our other good neighbors who've reviewed the story, like we are the knights who say NI, Mike Prower the Fox, Hopeless-Tyronos, and A Stainless Steel Rat.
*Brings out a drill* We're just going to be doing some drilling into the characters' thoughts and such in order to bring a better story with better characterization. Enjoy the chapter neighbors.
Sword: *holds a replica of Fox's head under the drill* Ready!
Chapter 7- A New Challenger Approaches!
Throughout the training session next day, Fox was constantly distracted by the spot. While the breathing apparatus hid his upturned mouth, he tried to keep up his appearance that everything was fine. And despite Krystal deciding to join in on the training sessions, he was able to fool everyone by concentrating solely on teaching proper gun techniques at the moment. Not to mention the constant surprise that overshadowed any trepidation when he found that the Cerinians were quite adept at learning how to handle these weapons.
But the problem hidden beneath his shirt vexed him to no end. He only momentarily forgot about it when Fter led a new batch of soldiers in. This group was more segregated than the one from yesterday. They separated themselves into two distinct groups, refusing to mingle with each other and forcing Fox and Krystal to instruct one group while Fter relayed the directions to the other. The orange vulpine wondered if this was the sort of situation Slim had mentioned last night.
After a long morning of practice, Fter ushered his troops away while promising to bring a larger group in tomorrow. Fox barely heard him as he, with Krystal beside him, hurried into the city. She had to jog part of the time to match his long, hasty stride. After arriving into the city itself, she finally turned to him. "Gee, if you are that hungry, we could have gone to get something from Slim."
He shook his head and looked around before replying. "Does this place have a library?"
She was taken aback by his sudden interest in literacy, but nodded. "Two, a public one and one in the palace. What are you searching for?"
"Medical stuff," Fox answered, dodging the question and concealing his true interest in the subject. "And history."
"Well both libraries should have those," Krystal told him, still eyeing the vulpine suspiciously. "We can check out the public one first since we're already close."
He agreed with that and let her lead the way. He tried to pull himself together, but one peek down his shirt brought on a fresh tidal wave of fret. The spot had climb higher, nearing his shirt collar. And it had expanded to envelop his entire abdomen. At least it spurred him forward to want to reach the library as soon as possible and almost as badly as wanting to hop into an Arwing. Almost.
Yes, while he had been grounded for his duration, the itch to fly had started to gnaw away at him. Although it had really started to kick in this morning, when he half-expected to wake up nearby a hanger. But alas, he had not even seen his ship for close to two days now.
Antsy nerves would have to wait in favor of dread and anticipation as they reached the library. Immediately, Fox set off into a hurried trot throughout the building, seeing as it was set up in the same manner as any library back home. However, when he realized that he could not read the book titles on the rows of shelves, much less the shelf markings, and that the Navi was of no use, he sheepishly returned to Krystal. She shook her head and took the lead.
Fox checked his new oxygen tank as she entered one section, pulling on books and notebooks brimming with hand-drawn charts of vulpine physiology. She turned to him after browsing through a couple. "It would help if I knew what you were interested in," she said. "Medically speaking."
"Uh, colorful stuff," Fox mumbled. Krystal raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I mean skin diseases," he clarified. She walked down the aisle a few more steps and ran her fingers over the rows of books. Meanwhile, he faced the other direction and removed a few of the notebooks to flip through.
Inside most of them were the normal skeletal drawings that one might expect. Although he could not read the Cerinian labels, he could recall a couple of the names from the basic medical class he had been forced to take back at the Academy. A few of the others contained more internal parts, vividly imagined in great detail by the artists. And one or two flaunted numerous pages of disgusting aspects of the body and various infections.
Fox replaced those before the images were burned into his mind's eye, albeit too late. He looked at Krystal, who had a few books gathered in her arms and was heading his way. He offered to carry some of them, and she gladly dumped a couple into his waiting hands. Then they both found an empty table, where they plopped down and cracked open the volumes.
He could sense that they were being watched and, sure enough, all the other people in the rows nearby and the tables were eyeing him. Thankfully, none of them were attempting to read his emotions, but he was still alert in case they tried. But just like the soldiers before, these people were mixed in their reaction, albeit they did not stand on opposite sides of the building from one another. Some respectfully bowed or nodded at Krystal or even smiled slightly at him. Others chiseled a permanent frown into their face, knitting their eyebrows together, and shooting hateful daggers from their eyes at the two.
The vulpine returned to his reading, trying to ignore the people. He paused and felt like slapping himself when he remembered that which he had already forgotten: the text was unreadable to him. He leaned over Krystal's open book, waiting for her to find something of interest to him.
Every once in a while, she would stop flipping through pages and focus on one paragraph. Then she would glance at Fox, shake her head, and continue reading. After going through the whole first book like this and setting it aside, she grabbed another. "Can you explain what this skin disease is that you're searching for? So far, you look healthy to me."
Now he had reached a crossway, or ultimatum, of sorts. If he showed her his chest, there might be panic. Or worse, she could report him to the king and queen and they would possibly isolate him in a jail cell or execute him. But if he did nothing, then whatever this parasitic coloring was would overtake him and then who knows what would happen? He was not even sure if this was only affecting his superficial body. For all the vulpine knew, it could be wreaking havoc internally as well.
Giving into his trust, and fear, he carefully pulled the neck of his shirt open. He hid this action from everyone else's view so that only Krystal could see. Pointing down it, he whispered, "Remember that bruise you saw?" She checked where he was pointing and inaudibly gasped. "It's grown larger."
She shut the books and stacked them off to the side of the table. "We need to take you to one of the healers then. This is no skin disease."
"It doesn't hurt though," Fox continued. "I can't explain it, but it feels fine. Almost like my fur was simply dyed."
"Still, it would be good to get a healer's advice." She stood up, taking his hand and dragging him out of the building. He was quite touched by the concern, but at the same time, he felt like his arm was being yanked out of its socket. So, he did his best to keep pace with her as she led him off to these "healers".
Just outside the library, sitting under a wilted tree, was a dark violet vulpine. His narrowed yellow eyes followed Krystal and her baggage in tow until they disappeared around a corner. A deep growl erupted from his throat, drawing a few eyes, but he paid them no mind.
Olletho stood up from the stone bench and headed in the opposite direction, having spent enough time spying on Fox and Krystal. His Krystal in his mind, who was sullying herself by even touching an outsider like him. And he would have followed them all day if he could, but royal duty called. He had been assigned to patrol the forest with a small squad.
It had not been so long ago when she had held his hand in that manner. Back when they were first betrothed to one another and even before that. Frolicking through the crowded streets, causing trouble and having their own brand of adventures, and generally treating one another like the very best of friends. They had spent the days together, as young people in love would, getting to know one another- almost like Fox and her were doing now, which made him seethe angrily- and causing Olletho to fall for her even harder. Or maybe he was the one who had been infatuated and she had been putting on an act from the very beginning, never truly reciprocating his feelings. But then, he was confused as to why it had seemed so real and why she never refused his love at first. Did she ever love him at all?
He took one last look in the direction they had headed, noting it and reminding himself to have one of his lackeys follow them later. For now, he headed back to the palace, abandoning his memories before they overwhelmed him. It would do him no good on a patrol. He drew the cloak he wore around himself tighter so that he would not be recognized and slit his pupils more in an attempt to shove down the tears welling up in them. Whatever it took, he would regain Krystal back from that outsider.
When Krystal had used the term "healer", Fox had pictured something more akin to a witch doctor in a hut. Probably somewhere in a less prominent area of the city, with the interior being decorated with skulls of animals and shelves littered with unknown potions and concoctions. So one could imagine his surprise when all his assumptions were completely unfounded.
The healer's "hut", while not overly large or extravagant like the palace, was still rather impressive. The exterior was not much to admire, having been designed using the same brick and mortar set-up of everywhere else. But the inside was designed more like a traditional hospital, with white, sterile walls, a waiting room, and the back rooms, where a collection of different therapies and treatments were offered. These ranged from the normal cold table where the healers examined a person, such as what Fox had already gone through, to rooms like the one he was in now, which resembled a dungeon, complete with a dank, misty atmosphere that coated the dirt colored walls in condensation. A hot pool of water bubbled in the middle, waiting for anyone to enter it.
Fox had been instructed to stay in the water of the circular pool until they came back for him. Their reasoning had been something along the lines of "Water drawn from the well of Yehhwu, guarded by the Chosen Carudor" and had restorative properties. So he waited, submerging himself beneath the water while Krystal sat off the side and watched him.
She had been occupying herself with coercing the staff to not mention Fox's condition to anyone. They had, thankfully, agreed, seeing that they did not deem it a contagious disease. They were unsure of the cause for whatever affliction he had, but none of their normal methods of plant juices or prayers had worked so far, hence the resulting situation.
Krystal had opted to stay with Fox throughout the entire process, visibly concerned, but not as much as he was. He kept his anxiety to a minimum though so as to prevent her from being too worried, despite growing more perturbed by the unsettling fact that whatever strange disease he had contracted could not be cured by anything so far. And while he was touched by Krystal's gesture of being by his side, and it only made him view her in a more radiant light, he was considerably embarrassed when he had to disrobe with her in the room before entering the pool. Although he thought he caught her sneak a peek at his naked body before silently chiding herself for such an action.
So they had stayed in that room, for a good half hour by Fox's count, conversing lightly as he enjoyed the soothing heat of the water. After a while, he eventually brought up what Slim had suggested he ask her, selecting the inquiry about the "war" rather than the legitimacy of the king as her father. Recanting the library and the peculiar scene at the training field, he asked Krystal what had been going on.
She shook her head, but opted to disclose the matter to him. "You might have noticed that the king and queen do not see eye to eye," she said. He nodded, figuring that even a blind person could catch onto that. "This not only splits their rule, but the people as well."
Fox thought about that statement and the meaning of it dawned on him. "Oh," he realized. "You mean that some support the queen and the rest support the king?"
"Yes," she answered. "I'm also guessing that Slim informed you that there has not always been both on the throne." His nod signified her to continue. "That is true. Until the Gnarsh came about, we only had a queen. After the war broke out, a king was assigned from one of the male generals. The men had always been more concerned with fighting than the females had been, since we had only ever known peace. So they placed all their trust in this general by bestowing this position on him. Although all the title did was make him a figurehead and an icon to rally behind. In reality, he was still a general, but the title stuck."
She went on to explain that subsequent generations continued the practice, choosing a king to co-rule with the queen until it became embedded in their civilization and each monarchy had given the male more and more power until he was on even footing with the queen. She also detailed how their culture and society had changed from that of a large, open village of huts and farms to a walled enclosure around a city dealing in mass production of food and weapons. Apparently, as much as Fox could gather, the entire race had changed. Even prayers and services to Yehhwu were directed toward war, battle honor, and valor due to the kings rather than the usual desires of peace.
Krystal mentioned how it was much different than that of the far Outlying Tribes- tribes, she said, were more representative of how they used to be, but were far away on the outskirts of the kingdom. "But I'm getting off topic and this is probably boring you," she finished.
"No, I found it interesting," he replied sincerely.
She beamed and was rather glad that he was actually listening and had not drowned her out. Clearing her throat, she returned to his original query. "There's more to it in the history books at the libraries, but suffice to say that is the short version. And that is why the marriages that have been arranged are so important. The current king and queen come from two different bloodlines due to early deaths of the last ones. That has riled people up to support one or the other, hoping to rid themselves of one of the monarchs and have just a queen or king. Unfortunately, everyday the king uses underhanded methods to gain more support, but there are many who remain loyal to my mother. And is the importance of the marriages as well: they would unite everyone under one house, stopping the fighting for now at least."
He was unfortunately reminded once again that the beautiful vixen in front of him was due to be wed. Even though it did not sit well with him, Fox braved a smile before turning back to the pool. His hands were severely wrinkled and pruned from the long soak and his fur was permanently matted to his skin, exercising its heavy weight that tried to pull him in deeper. Deciding that he had been in the pool long enough, with no physical results, he told Krystal such and reached for his clothes.
But she used her foot to slide the pile away from him, having to stand up from her chair to do so. "Not yet. You should wait for one of the healers to come back."
Fox, not being one to back down, again tried for his clothes, stretching more of himself out of the pool. But he only came within an inch of them before she once again moved them.
Krystal walked a bit closer to the edge as he sank back in the pool. "Unless you want to come out naked, just wait. It's for the best."
He was not paying much attention though. His eyes had been drawn to the fact that she was standing on the lip of the pool. Hatching a plan to easily get his clothes, he swam over, grabbed her by the ankle, and yanked her into the water. She yelped in surprise and slid right under the water without hitting her head on the wall, which he was thankful for even though he had not seen that possibility in hindsight.
While she swam to the surface, the vulpine chuckled and swiftly snatched his clothes. Before her head emerged, Fox already had the bundle of clothes in front of him, pressed against his groin. He grinned as Krystal sputtered out the water in streams and removed her damp locks to glare at him. "I can't believe you did that," she said, going for an upset tone, but failing miserably once she saw his amused face.
He edged closer to her and leaned down. "Sorry, but I had to get out of the pool."
She wiped some more of the water droplets off and swam closer. "I'm sorry too."
"Eh, it's ok."
"Not for that," she grinned. "For this!" And she pulled Fox by his arm. The sudden motion threw off his balance and he ended up in the pool like her.
He soon popped up, equally as stunned as she had been. She burst out laughing at him while he flung the water off his head. Spotting a golden opportunity, Fox scooped some of the rocking waves in the pool and splashed her with them. Krystal almost instantly tossed water at him, and it soon devolved into a playful splash fight between the two, both turning their heads away and shielding their eyes while flailing their arms about in front of them.
It did not last long though. Someone standing at the entrance cleared their throat, letting the two know they were not alone. They both looked up to see a servant from the palace, wearing a modest robe, watching them.
"What is it?" Krystal questioned him as she climbed out of the pool with Fox staying in, covering his problem with the tumbling waves.
"I bring a message from Queen Kiahuacochil and King Vonketuma," he addressed her. "They have invited the newcomer to join his majesty and her highness for dinner this evening."
Krystal glanced at Fox, an expression of worry crossing her face briefly. He did not understand it though, but did not interrupt. "Very well," she said. "You may tell them that I will bring him."
The servant bowed and, after the vixen had him promise not to tell anyone what he had just seen, exited the way he came. Fox climbed out of the pool as Krystal faced the other way, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, squirming and sliding his wet legs into his pants.
"The water treatment did not work," she answered, still waiting for him to be fully dressed, concern still evident in her voice. She slowly turned around after he was clothed, to which he smiled and put on an optimistic face as a way to tell her not to fret about the spot. "And with this dinner, you cannot wear those clothes. We would have to get something that could cover your whole body."
Fox looked down at his clothes and noticed that they were indeed not fit for a royal dinner. His flight jacket was beginning to smell, even to him, and his shirt and pants were now wrinkled and wet. Then again, he had been wearing nothing else for a few days now. "So what do you suggest?"
"A robe preferably." Krystal turned around and beckoned him to come with her. "Come on. We better start looking."
Oikonny climbed off the Arwing, muttering to himself and wiping the sweat from his brow. It had taken hours to repair the damage he had created, but he was finally finished, having worked well into the night and early this morning with little sleep.
Now more than ever, he wanted to rest. The thin air was beginning to get to him, constricting his chest at times and laying a fog upon his mind. But he shrugged it off, assuming he would be of use to the atmosphere soon. So, he opened up his communicator and connected to Andross' frequency while walking away from the Arwing and into the forest, leaving the ship alone in case Fox came back as per his uncle's instructions.
After a couple of minutes, his uncle's face appeared on-screen. He raised one of his thick, bushy eyebrows at the other, waiting for his report. "Damage repaired," Oikonny informed him. "I'm heading back into the forest."
"Good," Andross said, offering the slightest modicum of praise before relaying further orders. "Now, you are to wait-"
Yet Oikonny had stopped listening to his uncle in favor of something else. Or someone else, that was coming just beyond the thicket and gaggle of trees in front of him. He swiftly dove behind a wide tree trunk and flattened himself against it. Andross had seen the strange reaction and demanded to know what was happening.
"I think someone is coming!" Oikonny answered. "And I don't have my blaster!"
"Impossible," his uncle snorted. "I sent multiple drones out to scan that planet. They never found any life save for the animals and plants."
"Then how do you explain-" And in the next moment, Oikonny had a stave aimed at his throat. The tip had a large icicle attached to it, either ready to stab him or be shot off. And its owner was a purple vulpine, speaking in some strange tongue and jabbing the threatening weapon closer with each shout. "This?" the simian finished.
He ever so slowly rotated his arm to allow Andross to bare witness to what he was seeing. Similar people, all of them brandishing staves as weapons, had now surrounded the primate. The one in the middle, who stood before him, was dressed in more royal garb, with a more thorough finish to his metal armor than his compatriots. Not to mention that his headgear was metal, unlike the others' leather helmets.
This one removed his headpiece, revealing his yellow eyes that studied Oikonny curiously. He crossed his arms and asked something in the native tongue, to which the simian looked to his communicator for help. "Hold on," Andross told him, typing on a nearby console at what the other would think was a deliberate snail's pace. "I have a translator program I finished quite a while ago. I could not be bothered to learn all the languages, so this instantly picks up and deciphers almost any foreign tongue in minutes at the most."
He uploaded the program to Oikonny's communicator while filling him in further. "Due to the distance, it may only translate vocally on your end, but it will present subtitles on your screen and mine as well."
As the vulpine continued speaking, the program began to change some of the words to their language. The simian, after reading through the question's contents and understanding that the vulpine wanted to know who he was, answered slowly. "I am Oikonny," he replied, astounding the group that he knew what they were saying. "I am the nephew of Andross, future leader of the Lylat System. And my Arwing was shot down." He used his hands to quickly imitate the battle that had taken place over the planet.
But that did not fly so well with the natives. At the mention of such a vehicle, some of them pointed their weapons, now doused in fire as well, closer while the others looked to the apparent leader for direction. The vulpine rubbed his chin thoughtfully before signaling his men and women to lower their weapons.
"So you come from the sky as well?" the vulpine questioned, making sure that he had heard correctly.
"Yes."
"He must be brought before the king and queen!" one of the soldiers reminded the leader. Oikonny did not like the sound of that, no matter how benevolent this monarchy was.
"Just so they can give him a free reign like they did to that other outsider?" the leader snapped, turning on the grunt who had suggested it. "I would rather-"
"Fox?" Oikonny cried. "You have Fox?"
That had been a mistake. He once again found himself pressed against the tree, with fireballs ready to let loose from the staves and already singing his white fur. Even the leader had joined in this time, snarling at the mere mention of the vulpine's name. "What do you know of him?" he spat.
An opportunity was what the simian saw; an opportunity to possibly gain a powerful ally and his followers. "I know," he began, trying to remove himself from the fire, "that I despise him as much as you probably do." At this, the leader lowered his weapon, along with the other following suit. "And I know that I would be willing to help you get rid of him."
The leader pondered this offer for a few moments before ordering his men to bring Oikonny along. "Bag his head and keep him out of sight! Secure his weapon too"
As the primate's head was covered and his blaster was removed, he heard the same soldier protest again. "But prince Olletho, your father—"
"Is ill-equipped to handle this," Olletho replied. "The queen would either pass this one off as safe as well or allow him to roam free and possibly go to the Gnarsh." His voice moved closer until Oikonny was sure the prince was right next to his face, staring at the burlap bag being used as a blindfold. "Well I shall judge him first. If what he says is true, then he prove to be an asset. If he is lying or not as helpful as he claims..." and he allowed the dangling sentence to linger and fill itself in with the imagination of his prisoner.
"But-" Yet that was all Oikonny heard from that particular grunt again. His voice suddenly transformed into a cry of excruciating pain that lasted for several moments before dying down in hisses and pitiful sobs. At this point, Andross' communication had cut off as the aging primate had instructed his nephew to inform him of what happened later on. It was dead silent in the immediate area, leaving the blindfolded primate to wonder if the prince had done something to the others as well.
His wondering was answered when Olletho said loud and clear, "Does anyone else have any objections?" Again, there was no sound. "Good. Move out!"
"Hm, turn around," Krystal told him. Fox stood in front of her, sporting a scarlet robe that was two sizes too large for him. It dragged on the ground as he complied, threatening to trip him should he step in the wrong spot. He constantly tried to roll up the sleeves, only to have them fall back down to droop over his hand, leaving his fingertips to stick out.
"I think it's a bit big," he said.
"Quite right," the owner of the store they were shopping at agreed. She brought over two more robes, a small viridian robe and a navy blue medium one. She thrust them into his arms and shooed him back into the dressing room in the corner. "Try the green one first."
He carefully walked back behind the curtain to disrobe once more, although Krystal and the store owner heard a crash that sounded like someone fall against the bench placed in there. "I'm fine!" Fox's voice was a bit muffled, but he seemed all right.
As they waited, Krystal turned to the store owner and thanked her once again. "This will really help," she repeated from earlier.
"Think nothing of it princess," the store owner blushed at the praise. "Anything to prepare for a royal banquet. Just remember where you can get great clothes for these formal events!"
Krystal had neglected to inform her of the real reason for their shopping, allowing the owner to believe it was simply for the dinner. So far, they had been through several different designs, each one either deemed the wrong size or just not appropriate for not only the dinner, but normal use as well. She had pointed out that, after all, Fox would need something practical for daily use as well.
The vulpine emerged from behind the curtain again, wearing the smaller viridian robe that left nothing to the imagination. It was taut across his torso, displaying his fit body and causing the two women to blush furiously.
"Maybe I should try the blue one then?" Fox suggested. Krystal nodded and he turned around, allowing the store owner to tilt her head and fantasize at the backside, which was stretched tightly as well.
"I must say," she said to Krystal slowly as he disappeared, "I quite like your friend. Is he taken?"
That threw the vixen off-guard. She did not know how to answer exactly. She knew that he was single and she herself already had a fiancé. But for some strange reason, that answer made her disappointed, fearful, and insanely jealous all at once. It was a bit of a shock for her.
But thankfully, Fox came back out once more, saving her from having to say anything. He held up his arms, smiling and very satisfied with the choice this time. The blue robe, more akin to a toga due to it only covering one shoulder, was a perfect fit- neither too long to drag or too short that it would cut off circulation. He nodded his approval and the owner led them over to the counter to ring it up.
Krystal handed over a handful of gold and silver coins, each with cubed holes cut into them, over to the woman. She deposited it into a small drawer and offered a bag to them. "Would you like to wear it or have a bag?" she asked.
"I'll wear it," Fox replied. "Might as well get used to it. But I could use that for my other clothes."
"Here you are," she said, handing it over to him. He stuffed the wet pile consisting of his pants and flight jacket into the bag and turned to Krystal. But before they left, the owner leaned over the counter and whispered into his ear, "Don't be a stranger cutie."
His ears became as red and hot as his face and, unfortunate for him, Krystal had heard it too. She resisted baring her teeth, resorting to grinding them irately, and shooting daggers at the woman with her eyes. All of this resulted in her yanking his arm and shooing him swiftly out of the shop and back to the palace.
When the sack was finally removed, Oikonny found himself in a stately room that signified royalty with all of its lavish furnishings. He was sitting in a chair with a wooden, woven back and a plush cuhsion while the prince stood in front of him. He was now out of the armor he had been wearing and wearing more a more casual robe. How he had managed to sneak the primate into this place, Oikonny had no idea.
The prince pointed to the communicator and spoke to him. Oikonny did not understand at first, so the prince repeated the phrase, tapping the screen. It dawned on him what the vulpine wanted and he quickly connected to Andross, who had been waiting for his call and already had the translator set up.
"Olletho," the prince pointed to himself.
"Oikonny," the primate introduced himself and then indicated the screen. "And the great Andross."
"Now that the pleasantries are over with," Olletho said, pulling up another chair to sit across from the monkey, "in what way would you be able to help me rid myself of that vermin?"
Oikonny kept a watchful eye on his uncle's face, gauging any reaction as a measure of what information he should disclose. "Well my team," he began, checking to ensure that the face was still stoic, "is set to come get me. They are near this planet and could be here soon to help."
"As could his team at any moment," the vulpine countered.
The other held up a finger, smiling surely. "Ah, but that is where you're mistaken. His team's ship won't be repaired for several more days. Not only that, but there are several mer-" He paused, instinctively reaching for his forehead as a wave of lightheadedness hit him. Doubling over, Oikonny held his nauseous stomach as a retching sound escaped from him.
"What's wrong?" Olletho said in alarm, standing up and moving away from him.
The primate steadied himself and leaned back in the chair, visibly shaken and a wiping cold sweat off of his forehead. He groaned audibly and focused his eyes on the floor in front of him. "I'm not sure. I feel...dizzy."
"It must be the atmosphere," Andross commented, making his presence known once again. "You need more oxygen. Otherwise it could progress, causing either asphyxiation or brain damage and then you would be useless to me." Oikonny relayed all of this to the prince, sans the last part.
"All right," Olletho replied, mentally devising a way to sneak into the servants' quarters and swipe the breathing apparatus and oxygen tanks Fox used. "I'll go get the outsider's equipment. I assume you can work it?" The monkey, now gasping heavily, nodded. "Good."
He turned to leave, but heard a familiar voice outside the window. Rushing past Oikonny, he leaned out and, much to his chagrin, was immediately incensed with a violent rage at the sight below. Walking hand in hand and chatting like friends- or dare he think, close lovers- was the object of his desire and the object of hatred. Both were heading into the castle and he would have been perplexed at Fox's change in attire if he was not trying to stem his tide of fury by digging his nails into the stone.
"You'll have to wait until tonight when he has fallen asleep," Olletho said slowly, trying to maintain a calm composure. Although Andross could see through it and assumed it was Fox. "Then I will retrieve the mask for you. But so far you have not convinced me otherwise that I cannot handle this on my own. As for now," he turned his back to the window, "I will decide what to do with you later. Until then, I have more pressing matters." And on that note, he left Oikonny alone with his uncle.
Once Andross was sure that no one else was in the room, he glared at Oikonny. "Calm down and breath deep." He waited a few moments, allowing his nephew to collect his thoughts and his breath. "Now, is it true what I saw? Those staves had fire emitting from their tips?"
"Ye-Yes," the other gasped, not wanting to waste an ounce of air.
"Good." He heard his uncle's computer keys clacking away as he turned his attention elsewhere for a few moments. Once he was done, he faced Oikonny. "Wolf and his team will bring more oxygen for you when they arrive. I had planned for them to take care of Star Fox either on the station or when they arrived on that planet. But this new development...changes things."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I want those staves," Andross stated. "This race's power is remarkable. Not to mention that they would be useful against General Pepper and the rest of the Cornerian Navy. Which is why I want you to get close to this prince and, possibly, the king, queen, or whoever is their ruler. If we can sway them to our side, then this will go smoothly. If not," he smiled his greasy, unnerving toothy grin that sent a shiver down Oikonny's spine despite being far away, "then I think a coup d'etat is in order."
James, restless and unable to get any shuteye, had taken to wandering the hanger and watching the slow, meticulous process of the mechanics patching up the Great Fox. Although it had only been a day, he was already impatient. Unlike Slippy, who had the task of repairing their Arwings to keep him busy, or Peppy, whose equanimity allowed him to stay content, James had no such luxury. Always itching for something to do or somewhere to go, this was eating away at him. And not just the idea that his son may not have made it, but a niggling in the back of his mind that had blossomed into a strange wondering about his current situation. Though he had not entertained it much and had busied himself with finding something to do.
He had offered the mechanics his help several times. Each one was rejected politely, or as polite as the station held. Falco had invited James to go with him into the inner parts, searching for any word on Star Wolf. While tempting, the vulpine felt that his place was with the ship and to be ready to go rescue his son as soon as the repairs were finished.
It was due to this anticipation and barely controlled energy that he failed to notice a figure approaching him. Just behind the stack of mismatched crates that James sat upon was Pigma. The overweight traitor chuckled, his laugh coming out in snorts much too loud for him to ever consider a stealthy career. He brandished a blaster from his side, crouched as low as his girth would allow, and took careful aim at his old teammate's head.
"Goodbye James, old chum," he sniggered. Before he could pull the trigger and rid himself of the pesky vulpine, his communicator rang. Hiding behind the crates, as James turned briefly to the noise before resuming his original position, Pigma opened it. On the screen was his leader's face.
"What is it?" he snapped irritably at Wolf. "I was just about to put one right between James' eyes."
"Change of plans," the other explained. "Oikonny is alive and Andross wants us to take out Star Fox in a different manner. I'll explain more when you get back." He ended the connection, leaving Pigma to stare at a blank screen.
The would-be assassin clucked his tongue in annoyance and holstered the blaster. He gave his target's head one last look and suppressed the urge to just end it then and there. "Guess you'll get yours later," he muttered, slipping away silently back to the door he had come through. "Don't worry. I can wait."
He left just in time as James' head swiveled around, sure that he had heard something. But he was distracted when Peppy took a seat next to him. Both of them sat in silence for a few moments before the hare initiated a conversation. "Repairs are going along smoothly."
"Mmm," the vulpine grunted, still letting his shades show that he was looking elsewhere and that his mind was on a different topic altogether.
"So what's on your mind?" Peppy said, deciding to skip the small talk and cut to the heart of the matter. "Besides Fox."
"What makes you think there's anything else?" James retorted. But one solemn stare from his friend made him shrug and sigh. "This really isn't the time for it. We should concentrate on Fox."
"We are," the other assured him. "But if something's bugging you, you need to let it out."
The vulpine was silent for a few brief moments, opening his mouth once or twice, but closing it again to organize what he was going to say. Peppy patiently waited until he was prepared. "You ever get the feeling that you shouldn't be here?" he questioned, not really looking at Peppy.
"What do you mean?"
"Like your life should've already ended or that your luck has run out?" James lifted up his sunglasses with one hand and rubbed them with the other. "It's hard to explain, but ever since Venom, something hasn't felt right. Like I shouldn't have left. Almost as if I was supposed to die there."
Peppy was taken aback by the sudden confession, but let him continue. "And just now, I felt it again. I feel like my luck's run out. Like my time is up or something." He chuckled and glanced at his friend. "Pretty crazy, huh?"
"Maybe," the hare replied slowly. "Maybe not. Perhaps, in another time and place, you could have died on Venom. But you didn't. As for your luck, I wouldn't be surprised. Heaven knows you've pulled some pretty crazy stunts. Like the time you were flying on fumes against some of Andross' forces at Fichina and you engine was freezing over."
"As I seem to recall, you were right there alongside me in the same situation," James pointed out. They both laughed at the ancient memory, drawing several stares from the dock workers.
After settling down a few minutes later, Peppy added, "If Fox got even half of your dumb luck, then chances are he's perfectly fine."
The vulpine grinned, the first one that the hare had seen in days, and nodded in agreement. "Yeah," he muttered. He turned to the other as he was patted on the back. "Thanks."
"Hey, what are friends for?"
If the air of the dining hall was any thicker with tension, Fox was sure he would have suffocated on it. Queen Kiahuacochil had greeted him warmly and openly, brining him in to sit next to her and her husband. Her, Krystal's sister, and the sister's intended were very hospitable and amiable people and had welcomed him like a member of their family, including him in their discussions and listening attentively whenever he was prodded for information about the Lylat System, Corneria, and his own exploits in the far reaches of space.
Yet across from Fox were King Vonketuma and his other son, both narrowing their eyes. The king himself was choosing not to engage in conversation or even acknowledge the foreigner's presence and simply removed himself from his surroundings by concentrating on quietly eating his food. Olletho was a different matter. His lip was slightly curled, despite his attempts to resist it, and he had already bent a piece of silverware when he realized how much attention Krystal was giving Fox.
"So what happened next?" Krystal's sister, whom she had introduced as Princess Nirtana, inquired. Fox had been regaling them in a story of one of Falco's and his misadventures when on one of their first missions. Not only did it break the ice with the others, but it meant he did not have to keep picking at his food while looking around, unsure of what to do before meeting a nasty glare from Olletho.
"Well he dove into the thick of it," Fox continued. "And managed to take out five of them before being shot at from all sides. So I did the only logical thing." He stopped for dramatic emphasis. "I dove in after him. Needless to say, our Arwings barely made it back to the Great Fox. In fact, they pretty much fell apart when we docked, much to Slippy's dismay."
There was uproarious laughter before Nirtana's fiancee, Rupiul, commented, "Sounds like it was quite the fight."
"Yes, but how good are you on your feet?" Olletho muttered under his breath. He caught the attention of his father, who sternly glared at him. He promptly shut his mouth and continued to dig around in his food, not really eating any of it.
"So what do you think of Cerinia so far?" Kiahuacochil asked once the chuckling had died down. She folded her thin hands together and rested her head thoughtfully on them. "Give me your honest opinion."
Fox took a sip of one of his drinks, of which there were four laid out for each person, each with a distinct color and aroma to them, and licked his lips. "I like it. Your army is impressive with their powers, the city itself is magnificent, the food is delicious and to die for," he grinned, indicating the various platters on the table that consisted of the local wildlife of freshly prepared plants and cooked-to-perfection meat of smaller animals.
"It's beautiful overall." At this, he snuck a peek at Krystal, who happened to do the same, and both blushed slightly.
"Glad to have your approval," the queen joked, eliciting some polite chuckles from the others.
Olletho stood up at this point, slamming his open palms down onto the table and spilling his own drinks, whose contents streamed down to the other end and toward the others. Before anyone could question his actions, he pointed an accusing finger at the orange vulpine. "I've had enough of this and of you!" he stated, his voice drowning in venomous hate.
"Wh-"
"Shut up!" he cried. "I will not sit by and let you ruin this city!" He looked down for only a moment to quietly whisper to himself, "Or ruin her," as if needing to remind himself why he was going through with this. "I, Olletho, son of King Vonketuma and prince of Cerinia, challenge you!"
A/N: Whew, that chapter went on for much longer than I had planned to neighbors. Originally it was not going to have so much, but things like the conversation between James and Peppy and the scenes with just Olletho or Olletho and Oikonny were expanded upon. Even the scenes with Fox and Krystal were lengthened to longer than we had anticipated. Well, at least we finished drilling.
Sword: *holds up drilled heads*
Hopefully the characters are- well, in character. But let us know what you think neighbors. Also, if you have any constructive criticism, comments-
Sword: Or praise.
-then let us know. Goodbye neighbors. *plays soft, melodious music*