The Legacy
The main doors to the wedding chapel were already open, and a number of faces looked back over the pews toward the entrance. Some were startled, some were relieved, some were disdained, but they were all pointed in one direction. There was James McCloud standing just inside the chapel's entrance, so uncomfortable in the Black-Tie formal attire. The fox was soaked, drenched head to tail in rainwater – the same rain which could be heard pounding against the ceiling and windows. James' breath came in deep heaves, like he'd just ran a footrace getting there, and his face was contorted in a hazardous scowl that threatened to detonate all over anyone who'd dare push him too hard.
James heaved a few winded lung-replenishing breaths, then turned to a formally dressed hook-beaked fowl with blazing white and gold plumage. The patron bore tag on his chest labeled 'Manager' distinguishing him from the other guests, and held himself in proud accordance to his status.
"Here..." The fox plucked an envelope out of his dripping dinner jacket,"...is the damned marriage certificate. It's signed by me, my partner, and our local District Administrator as required by law."
James trust it toward the avian manager, his outrage kept barely in-check behind his snarling muzzle.
"Your people already saw this and gave us the green light when we booked the place, why the heck do you need to see it now?"
"Law, tradition, and it weeds out undesirables..."
The bright parrot sighed as he took the envelope, and extracted an official legal document from it.
"If I simply let anyone get married in the hotel's chapel whenever they felt like it, I'd be overrun with all the worst sorts imaginable. After all, image is everything in this business."
The hotel manager didn't sound entirely convinced, even by his own words.
"Okay, fine, now can we please finish the ceremony?"
The agitated fox scraped through the still waterlogged fur of his brow, impatient.
"The catering crew thinks the wedding's been called off, and they're about to sneak out of here any second."
"It's all my fault, really. I should've remembered this silly technicality sooner..."
The manager glanced over the marriage certificate, then offered it back to James.
"Everything looks to be in order, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience Mr. McCloud, carry on."
"Thank you!"
He snatched the document from the bird's hand, and began a brisk march down the chapel aisle, leaving a trail of dripping water in his wake.
The soaking fuming groom was quickly joined by Peppy hare, who was stuffed into similarly uncomfortable formal-ware as his vulpine friend.
"Sweet Solar, Jimmy! What happened?"
An air of anxious concern clung to the hare, like an uncooperative piece of adhesive tape.
"Could you hang on to this?"
James pressed the papers into his friend's hand, not stopping or making any sort of acknowledgment as he continued onward.
"You forgot the marriage certificate?!" Peppy exclaimed quietly, "You know the ceremony can't be carried out without~."
"I am not, in the mood for it right now Peppy..."
The fox kept looking forward, toward the distant figure of his bride ahead.
"Just tell me you still have the ring."
"Don't sweat it Jimmy, I got you covered."
He produced a tiny drawstring pouch from a pocket, offering it to James.
The auburn fox took the pouch in his hand, and felt the minuscule loop of metal through it's velvet container as he continued his march down the aisle...
-
-
There were so many of them...
He stood over a broad glass case in the countertop of some jeweler's shop, combing his steely blue eyes over dozens upon dozens of rings in every style imaginable, and he was completely baffled by the overwhelming selection before him. Here was a fox who, among countless other aspects of flight combat, could tell someone the exact advantages and disadvantages between installing a continuous or oscillating deflector shield generator on a combat fightercraft, but was lost in this alien realm of jewelery. Gold or silver or some other material? Gemstone or no gemstone? What style? Simple or intricate? None of these things made a lick of sense to an ace combat pilot like James. How was he supposed to decide which ring would be the right one for his fiancé? Still, his eyes kept jumping from one piece to the next searching for some kind of answer, but it was his ears that found one...
"These look nice. They're simple, elegant, but somehow different..."
That was Vixy, standing over another nearby glass case countertop stuffed with rings and other jewelry. There wasn't any hiding her pregnancy now. The vixen's swelling abdomen surged forward ahead of her, barely contained by her maternity fitted clothing. Vixy's emerald eyes remained fixated on a single point, scrutinizing the way an artist does a painting.
James came alongside her, and saw what she was examining with so much interest.
"What's so different about these, Vix?"
They weren't much more than a matching pair of fairly simple his-and-hers wedding bands, one a little slimmer than the other but otherwise identical. The two rings were of a silver-like metal polished to a mirror finish, but with a darker hue than most of the other pieces.
"For starters, I can't quite figure out what they're made of..."
Without really thinking, Vixy's hand found it's way to one of James', and lightly grasped it. Neither were entirely aware, but neither minded since there was a more pressing matter at hand.
"They're too dark to be silver, or platinum, or white gold."
From behind the counter, a sleek black-plumed avian employee overheard the vulpine couple's exchange, and intervened as the opportunity presented itself.
"Ah, those?" the salesman inquired, but without seeking an answer. "Why, they're made of highly polished tungsten carbide with a non-toxic nickel binding agent."
Jame's eyebrows skewed in a knot and leapt upward, powered by his own astonishment.
"Are you serious?"
"What is it?" Vixy asked him, as though she'd missed something.
"It's just..." The fox scratched his head and glanced around the modest jewelery store, taking an extra second to gather his wits "They use tungsten carbide for armor-piercing projectile rounds. I never thought they'd make jewelery with this stuff."
The sleek black bird let out a squawking chuckle, like he'd seen similar reactions before.
"It's used to make heavy-duty industrial tool bits as well. You'll find this material is extremely durable –highly resistant to scuffing, scratches, and most other wear-and-tear..."
The avian jeweler opened the back of the glass case and retrieved the matching tungsten carbide bands, presenting them to the vulpine couple for closer inspection.
"Even through the harshest everyday treatments, these pieces will still keep their lustrous shine for many years to come. That's something you simply can't say that about gold or platinum, as fine as those other materials are in their own right."
Vixy took James' rigid arm in hers. The fox had gone tense again – lost outside the familiar rush of life-and-death combat.
"What do you think James? You sure pieced my armor."
She rested her head on his shoulder, and looked up at James with a goofy little smile on her face.
An accidental laugh leaked out of the fox, pulling him from a statuesque state the unfamiliar environment put him in.
"That is such a corny line..."
He picked up the thicker band, and found it quite heavy for its size; much heavier than steel, and stronger too. James turned the dense ring over in his hands, watching how its darkened mirror-like shine played against the rich auburn of his fur.
"I guess these are pretty neat, huh?"
Loosening up, James set the side of his own head down on top of Vixy's.
The copper-furred vixen reached out for the other tungsten carbide band, trying it out for herself as well.
"My thoughts exactly, flyboy..."
-
-
After what felt like far too long, James McCloud finally made it to the front of the wedding chapel. There in front of a simple altar stood the stocky shaggy-furred canine clergyman who was supposed to carry out the ceremony. The fox pressed the velvet pouch into the minister's hand, and the two of them exchanged a wordless glance before the clergyman stepped aside, revealing the solitary bride standing at the altar.
Clothed in a brilliant white maternity-fitted wedding dress and with her back toward everyone else and was Vixy Reinard. In one hand she held a compact bridal bouquet, and used the other to support herself against the chapel's painfully ordinary altar. All the while, her exposed shoulders rose and sank with each carefully measured gasp of breath she took...
James approached her, cautiously, feeling his own pulse accelerate as the anxiety began to squeeze his nerves like a vice-grip.
"I uh... look I screwed up Vix, big time..." The fox tugged at the suddenly tight collar of his tuxedo shirt, "I made a gigantic mistake on your biggest day, and you deserve so much better than~"
"Will you just shut-up?..." Vixy steered herself around to face her groom.
Her face showed no signs of anger, or sorrow, or fear – she was was winded, not exhausted but working hard nonetheless.
"I Know you're trying to be romantic and everything, but I could honestly care less about thatemotional garbage right now."
James froze as his racing heart stumbled over the unexpected.
"Huh?"
She thrust her free arm on the fox's shoulder, steadying herself.
"The baby's done, and he's coming out."
"Now?"
"Yes now!"
"Are you sure?"
"Oh for the love of~"
A groan erupted from her grimacing muzzle as she shuddered and flinched – a contraction, and a pretty powerful one too. Again, the vixen took her breath in the carefully measured gasps she was taught.
James held on to her shoulders with both hands all through her struggles.
"Okay, Okay, I believe you Vix. You're definitely in labor this time."
A dull murmur drifted over guests in the pews, filling the wedding chapel with a quietly growing air of uncertainty. The shaggy furred minister was saying something to the guests calm them down, but neither James nor Vixy paid any attention to it.
"We need to get moving, and fast..." the breathless vixen managed between her gasps of breath, "Everything's happening a lot sooner and a lot quicker than I figured it would."
Heh, story of my life...
The fox draped an arm over Vixy's shoulder, and he began to walk her toward exit on the far side.
"So maybe we procrastinated the wedding too far, maybe our baby started out as an accident, maybe we even met because of a screw-up; but I promise you, we are not going to get this part wrong."
The vixen's body contorted with another contraction, and other groan of exertion – both more extreme than the last. James gave her as much extra support he could, and quickened his pace back through the chapel aisle.
"Right then, Devers hospital isn't far from here, and they've got that great new birthing center we toured last week~"
"Wait!" the shaggy minister called after them, jogging to catch-up, "Please, this'll only take a few seconds..."
The bulky clergyman emptied two tiny velvet pouches, and a pair of tungsten carbide wedding bands dropped into the minister's free hand, the slimmer of which he held up to Vixy.
"Vixiene Reinard, do you take this man to be your husband~"
"What? Really?"
"Well... do you?"
"Of course I do you idiot! What'd you think all this goddamn pomp-and-circumstance was for in the first place?!"
Vixy thrust her left hand out, finders splayed wide open, and allowed the minister to slip the ring onto her finger.
The bulky canine held the other wedding band to James.
"James McCloud, same question."
He quickly put his left hand out.
"I do..." the ring was put on, and James backed away, "...I'm really sorry about Vixy, she's under a lot of stress at the~"
Vixy gripped the fox's arm and pulled him away.
"Would you like me to shove-out the baby here flyboy? or at Devers?"
"By the power vested in me..." the canine clergyman continued, "I now pronounce the two of you husband and~"
The minister's speech was interrupted when a well-aimed bouquet found its mark squarely in his face.
"Ha! Good arm, Vix~"
The vixen drew him into an accelerated kiss. Pressed against her, James could easily feel the child in Vixy's swollen belly.
She pulled loose from James and threw an arm across his shoulders.
"Come on hubby, we've wasted enough time alr~"
Vixy began writhing and groaning under the monumental strain of another contraction. She probably would've fallen if it weren't for James holding her up.
"I promised you we're gonna make it Vix, and that means we are going to make it!"
Mustering all his determination, and half carried the overstressed vixen out of the hotel's wedding chapel to the sound of a cheering crowd that seemed so distant at the time...
-
-
The Corneria City University campus was the backdrop outside the wide lobby windows, with its proud collection of academic buildings and neatly landscaped grounds between them. The only thing amiss out those windows was the pouring rain hammering down. A white stretch limousine pulled up to the street curb just outside, and its occupants burst out of the rear passenger door. The muffled slam of the vehicle's door closing caught the staff's attention – those that looked saw the limousine pull away from the curb and drive off.
That's when the front door slid open in its tracks, and~
"Grrrraaaahhhh!"
A furious copper furred vixen staggered through the doorway in her wedding dress, assisted by a fox in black-tie formal wear who's jacket and bow tie came undone. Both were drenched to the bone from the torrential downpour, even after only mere seconds of exposure to it.
"Could that hotel chauffeur have driven any slower?! You'd think he wanted me to deliver in the limo the way he took his sweet time getting here!"
James helped the heaving vixen each step of the way, with one arm holding her up and the other holding her hand.
"Well..." he muttered, shrugging "it was a slick limousine~"
"You say something?!" she didn't hear it, so focused on her ordeal of birthing.
"Nothing!..." James sprang back, "I mean, you're doing great Vix, just hang in there a little bit longer."
"Sure... easy for you to say... you're not the one about to cram a little bundle of joy out your ass!"
The hysterical bride and groom were swarmed by a small cluster of the birthing center's staff – some were obviously medical personnel, some weren't. Their leader was a silky black-and-white collie type canine dressed partly in medical scrubs with the rest of her clothing casual, and spoke to the couple first.
"I take it you're the one who called ahead about a fast-and-furious precipitous labor, McCloud?"
"Know anyone else about to have a baby in her own wedding dress?"
Jame's reply drew a few chuckles and snickers from the gathered staff.
The collie allowed a smile, still keeping her professionalism intact.
"But you made it here, and just in time by the looks of it. Right this way..."
She led them out of the lobby and a short ways down a hallway with some of her subordinate staff in-tow behind.
"How far apart are your contractions?"
"They're not stopping..." Vixy answered between gasping breaths. "It's just one right after another now..."
"Then we need to get moving..."
The collie opened one of the doors along the hall and quickly ushered James, Vixy and the attending staff inside.
The room was a seamless combination of hotel room and hospital ward. On the one hand, there were all sorts of comfortable accommodations like a queen sized bed, full bathroom, and other non-institutional furniture. However, an station with a whole array of medical equipment on one side of the room told the true story.
Everyone moved very quickly and with a purpose – everyone except James and Vixy that is. While the focused staff swirled about the room like a space cruiser crew ordered to their battle-stations, Vixy was helped onto the bed and prepared for the monumental task ahead of her. James was with her through it all, his firm hand as the anchor in this stormy sea of activity, emotion, and otherwise unbearable pain...
"Alright..."
The collie nurse-midwife from earlier was now positioned at the business end of Vixy's birth, outfitted with all the tools and equipment necessary to perform her solemn duty.
"The baby's oriented, you're fully dilated, and your water broke just now. It looks like you're all set to go!"
James crouched down close to the anxious vixen, holding her hand firmly in his for comfort.
"It's all you now Vix, you ready to do this?"
She drew in a deep lung-filling breath, mustering the determination to finish what began so long ago in just as passionate and intimate a moment between them...
"Watch me, flyboy."
The collie nurse-midwife peered over Vixy's pulled-up wedding dress, interrupting the vulpine couple's brief moment.
"I need you to push now!"
She squeezed Jame's hand, hard, and her face was drawn up in an excruciating grimace. Her arms and legs trembled, and the bulge of her stomach shifted underneath. Under the – effort of her contractions, Vixy's grimace extended, baring her teeth, and forcing her voice out at last...
"hhhheeeerrrraaaahhhh!..."
The end of the push left the vixen exhausted and gasping down each desperate breath just to keep herself going on.
"Wow..." The nurse-midwife's eyebrows rose up, surprised but impressed. "Are you sure this your first childbirth?"
With her free hand, Vixy reached down to her business end, feeling with her hand what her eyes couldn't see.
"James I... I can feel his head!..."
Her eyes lit up, her grip tightened, and she took her breath in steady pumps as she tapped into a new-found reservoir of energy from this tactile contact with her son.
With every ounce of effort she could mobilize, the vixen took one last breath, and bore-down in one last heave...
"Hyyyyaaaahhh!"
The final shriek of her burning pain and unyielding determination came, and went, and blended straight into the first cry from the first breath of her newborn son.
"He's out!" the collie announced from the business end.
She and a few other nurses continued their duties throughout this momentous occasion, an everyday occurrence for them. There was some business with towels, some medical shears, so much hidden behind the wedding dress. Within seconds, one of the nurses handed a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft white towel over the threshold and into Vixy's arms. The bundle had a face, a pair of arms, and what little fur it had was still quite damp. He had a voice too, calmer now that he was lying against his mother's chest.
"You did it Vix..."
James wrapped his arm around her shoulders, embracing her tightly.
"You stepped up and delivered. So much for our honeymoon, huh?"
For the first time in what felt like ages, Vixy had a laugh – a small one, but a laugh nonetheless.
"I think we've got a little 'honeymoon' now that'll last for years..."
"Ah, and there's the afterbirth."
The nurses were all still at work, though less busy now. The collie nurse-midwife stepped around to the bedside, eagerly carrying on with the new and extremely relieved parents.
"We can go ahead and have your baby examined and a birth certificate made-out whenever you're~"
"Can it wait like, fifteen minutes?" James stopped her with a wave of his weary hand.
"It's been a... rough day, and we'd like to have some quiet time alone, with just us and the baby. We don't even have a name for him yet."
"I see." The collie nodded, stepping-down a few gears, "You can send for someone as soon as you're ready to continue. And congratulations on a healthy, if very fast birth."
She turned back and sent all the staff out of the room before departing herself, leaving James and Vixy alone with their seconds old son.
"Guess we'd better give him a name."
The tired vixen stroked the infant's tiny muzzle with her finger, causing him to squirm in his blankets.
"What could you call a fox McCloud?... sorry, tripped over my words there."
James reached out, clasping Vixy's fondling hand.
"No wait, that's it: Fox McCloud."
"Seriously?"
"Why not?" He stroked the infant's head, flipping over his ears. "It rolls off the tongue nicely, it's easy to remember, and it has a little kick of spunk behind it."
"Fox..." Vixy tried it out.
At the sound of his name, Fox McCloud opened his eyes and saw his mother and father for the very first time...
-
-
The auditorium was packed with hundreds of people, across all arrays of species. The stage in front was almost completely clear except for a podium set in the center. A projector screen just behind the podium showed only the letters CRI in a simple yet elegant font.
On one side of the stage, a well-dressed figure holding a hand microphone was in the process of ending his speech.
"...and it gives me great pleasure to present to you our new Chief Director: Dr. Enos Andross."
The audience responded with a polite round of applause as Dr. Andross crossed the stage to the center podium. The academic ape strode with confidence, more than comfortable in front of a large group of curious listeners...
"Thank you, thank you all very much; and yes, I can confirm those widely spread hypotheses that I have been appointed as your new CD. It's a bold choice, I know, but you need not worry yourselves over this change of leadership, for I am but your guide in the enterprising endeavors you undertake. The continuing journey must be undertaken by everyone – from myself and the supporting directors all the way down to our absolutely outstanding custodial staff, who keep the floors and essential utilities in pristine condition. Honestly, I don't know how we could ever go on if the toilets never got fixing when they needed it..."
The audience rumbled with many laughs of varying degrees, but Andross' pause was only a short one.
"Now, I understand there have been a number of difficulties in the past regarding this institute, I too have had to overcome many insurmountable obstacles to get here. I tell you now: do not dwell on them – do not let these troubles weigh you down. We shall leave the shackles of our burdensome pasts behind us, and we shall hold our heads high and alert as we peer ever forward to the horizon rushing straight at us. Be ever vigilant, for we must be ready when it comes – ready to accept the inconceivable as truth, ready to expand the boundaries of the impossible, and ready to put to shame those who dare say to you 'it cannot be done!'..."
The audience was so in-tune, so concentrated on Dr. Andross' charismatic performance, that the entire auditorium fell silent when the ape took a carefully measured pause...
He stepped down the level of his address, but injected it with the solemn dignity of duty.
"As contributors to and proud members of the Cerinia Research Institute, I assure you all that as your new Chief Director, as your humble guide, we shall be creating nothing less than the Future...
-
-
The sound of crying woke them up... again.
The room was dark, the digital display of the clock read 3:42 in the morning, and the baby monitor continued blaring that insistent cry from the baby...
James McCloud wrenched his head to the other side, where his wife lay... sleeping?
"You want me to handle this one?"
His only response was a tired groan, and she didn't move other than a slight twitch – close enough to an answer.
The fox fumbled out of bed, found that pair of pants, and didn't bother searching for a shirt. He steered himself out of the master bedroom and down the hall to the room next-door. No need to turn on the lights, the route was... familiar – so familiar that James might as well have been sleepwalking to the nursery...
He got there, got the door open, and got the lights activated to nothing more than a dim glow. The room was packed with the usual: changing table, baby-care storage suites, crib, noisy baby... James half yawned half sighed, and dragged himself to the place where his son was supposed to be asleep, but wasn't.
Fox had developed more in these past weeks. His fur was still in its kit-colors, but the face structure was an uncanny copy of his father's, and his eyes were the same brilliant shade of green as his mothers.
James reached down into the crib and carefully hoisted his bawling son up into his arms.
"Okay Foxie, lets run down the old checklist..."
He sniffed down the infant's back.
"You don't reek, so no diaper changing..."
He checked the clock.
"You just got fed, so no feeding..."
He just held Fox in his arm and stared at him with his tired eyes, not realizing that the crying stopped.
"Alright, what is it?"
The baby reached up, clenched James' whiskers in his little fist, and yanked on them with startling force.
"Hey let go of those~ ow, ow, ow!"
Little Fox giggled, terribly amused by his father's painful reaction.
"You think that's funny, do you? I'll show you funny..."
James attacked his son with a flurry of flailing fingers, causing Fox to squeal and squirm in his bouts of laughter.
"James..." Vixy's sleepy voice droned through the baby monitor, "You're supposed to calm the baby down, not get him all excited."
"Yeah, yeah, I was uh... just getting to that part..."
He carried the infant to a wall-panel, and punched a few keys to get a piece soothing music playing through the room's integrated audio system. To the quiet and easy melody filling the space, James McCloud gently rocked Fox in his arms as he slowly drifted off to sleep...
-
-
By profession I am a soldier and take pride in that fact. But I am prouder – infinitely prouder – to be a father. A soldier destroys in order to build; the father only builds, never destroys. The one has the potentiality of death; the other embodies creation and life. And while the hordes of death are mighty, the battalions of life are mightier still.
-General Douglas MacArthur-