Two worlds converge in a Dark Place

Peppy followed Fox along the trail that ran parallel to the river. Fox hopped over a fallen tree branch, and Peppy did the same. He could still comfortably keep up, but he was grudgingly coming to recognise he wasn't as young as he used to be. Things came harder than they once had. He still had a few years' worth of ground missions in him, but time was ticking on, in more ways than one. He watched Fox's back as he jogged along. He wasn't a child anymore. He'd lost that gangly too big for himself awkwardness he'd had as a teenager. His shoulders had widened, his muscles hardened, into if not an adult, almost one. From behind, he could be James. They wound their way along the trail, it gradually began to slope up hill, their pace slowed a little.
"Whose idea was this again?" Fox panted.
"Yours, I think." Peppy said with a chuckle.
"Oh."
They continued up the hill. The leaves of the trees were starting to turn on this part of Karasa. The forest shimmered gold in the early morning mist. It would have been quite beautiful, if they'd stopped to enjoy it. Fox led the way as the trail took them away from the river and weaved up the side of a steep hillside. Peppy continued on with his rather dispiriting train of thought, even as the climb became harder, the exercise induced endorphins unable to purge his mind. Three was a difficult number. With the best will in the world, Slippy was never going to be anyone's first choice for a ground mission. His skills were elsewhere, and too valuable to waste, and Peppy would not be able to keep going forever. They needed another team member, but so far, all of the leads that had drifted his way had been depressingly unfruitful. He'd seen a few excellent pilots, trained by the Academy, good at following orders, but no-longer able to think for themselves. Another man, too old to accept Fox as leader, the girl, skilled and clever, everything he was looking for on paper, but who had left him feeling cold and uneasy. Wolf O'Donell had been the closest he'd come, but there had been too much anger and resentment there, with more time Peppy might have gotten through to him, but before then he'd committed professional suicide and burned out of the Academy, taking his training Arwing with him. Since then, and since Peppy had pulled Fox out of the Academy, he'd decided he didn't want a graduate, he wanted someone he could train from the ground up, but the right person was proving illusive and for now their fourth Arwing stood idle. The one thing he did know though, was that they were running out of time.

At the top of the hill they stopped, looking down on the forest below. A carpet of gold red and greens spread out in all directions for miles. At the edge of the trees, they could see the small encampment of low grey buildings where they'd landed The Vixen and left Slippy in bed. But for the time difference with Milwalk city, Peppy would never have gotten Fox up this early. Peppy took a water bottle out of his backpack as Fox bent, hands on knees, panting.
"Can we walk back down?" Fox said, not rising from his bent position.
Peppy nodded and offered Fox the water bottle which he took. Peppy rubbed sweat from his forehead, and flopped to sit down, looking out at the landscape. A second later Fox sat down next to him.
"Can't I tell we haven't done this for a while."
"Nothing stopping you going for a run before we go down to the hangar."
Fox handed him the water bottle back. "It's so cold there though. Makes it hard to get out of bed."
Peppy rolled his eyes. "You must get that from your mother. Your dad was always an early riser, he used to say I was lazy."
Fox chuckled. "Yeah, I used to go into their room after dad had gone to work and we'd lay in bed for what felt like hours."
Peppy smiled, and they sat quietly together for a while, watching as the sun burned the low hanging mist off. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the local wildlife, the fading rush of his heartbeat in his ears.
"Do you ever miss living on Corneria?" Fox said after a while.
"Not really. Do you?"
Fox shrugged, playing absently with a few stones, where he sat with his knees hugged to his chest. "Not as such. Just makes it hard to see anyone, moving around so much."
Peppy looked across at him. "We can go back anytime you want; you just have to say."
"I know." He shrugged. "Must be hard for you too."
"There's not really a lot for me to go back to now." He said, standing up. "C'mon lets go before we get cold and start seizing up."
Fox got up too, stretching, chuckling a bit, and they headed back down the trail at a more sedate pace.

Towards the end of the week, Star Fox were packing up for the day. Falco was finishing up his own work. He'd done a couple of practice laps on the new course, and a post-race diagnostic had shown a few bugs in Runner's systems which a reboot hadn't fixed. He unplugged his laptop from the diagnostic panel and headed back over to his corner of the hanger. The status bar on the delinquent system was showing 'ready' now. He'd do another test run the next day, but he hoped that was the end of the issue. He walked over to his work bench, glancing across he noticed a bag on his cot that hadn't been there before. He put his laptop away and went over to look. It was from the clothes shop he and Slippy had visited earlier in the week. Shaking his head, he picked it up to take it over to Slippy. As he lifted it, the bag fell open slightly. Something fluorescent inside caught the light. Intrigued by something shiny, Falco peered inside. The bulk of the fabric was black, but there was a flash of green fleece poking up too. He stopped and put his hand into the bag, pulling out a coat which would definitely not fit Slippy, or anyone else on Team Star Fox. He stared at it, not knowing what to think. The relief of knowing he wouldn't be cold through the winter was so intense it made his head spin. So much so he barely registered the embarrassment that came along with it.

Slippy was packing the lasts of his tools away. Fox and Peppy had already headed out of the hanger, and were waiting for him in the light of the setting sun.
"Slippy, I uh-" He said, holding the coat in his hand. He stammered over the words. Thank you just didn't feel like enough to express his gratitude. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, or understand. The lump in his throat was so big, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to speak, even if he had known what to say.
Slippy smiled up at him, a kind, sincere smile, without any hint of mocking of his inability to articulate his thoughts. "You're welcome. See you later."With that, Slippy followed Fox and Peppy out.

The Three Sails was a slightly grimy bar, but it was located on the corner of the racers yard and a popular street with the city's clubbers, so it was always busy. It had a reputation as the place to go if you wanted to try to bump into your favourite racing pilot. When Fox, Slippy and Peppy entered, they could see why. Several of the tables were taken up by faces they knew from the track. Slippy and Peppy sat down at a table, Fox was about to join them when he noticed Falco sat in one corner near the bar, alongside an attractive young woman. Fox headed over to say hello, mostly in the hopes Falco would introduce him to his friend. As he walked over, Tom, another pilot new that season caught his attention with chat about their relative chances in the next race. By the time Fox had extricated himself from the conversation, Falco had disappeared. The pretty woman was still there, but she was engaged in conversation with a man much older than her. As Fox watched, she got up and slipped out a door at the back of the bar with him. Disappointed, he went and sat back down with the others.

Fox and Slippy were playing darts when Peppy noticed Falco return to the bar. Some money discreetly changed hands and Falco sat back at the stool he'd been on previously. The woman behind the bar poured Falco a drink without speaking to him, and Falco lent with both elbows on the bar, staring at it without touching it. Fox saw Peppy looking and followed his eyes.
"You're useless at this Slippy. I'm gunna go see if Falco wants to join in, he can be on your team."
Peppy put his hand on Fox's arm. "I don't think he wants to play. Finish up your game and let's get back."
Fox cast Peppy a confused glance, then shrugged and went back to the game. Peppy shook his head. Fox would probably just assume Falco was too drunk to play. Eventually Fox and Slippy came over to where Peppy was sitting.
"You alright?" Fox asked.
"Yeah just had enough of this place." Peppy said, a slightly odd tone to his voice. "Ready to go?"
Fox and Slippy glanced at each other and shrugged. "Yeah."
Peppy got up and headed for the exit. Falco had disappeared through the door at the back of the bar about twenty minutes ago, following a man twice his age, and he still hadn't returned.
When Peppy walked into the hanger the next morning, there were three strangers standing behind Blue Runner, looking at it. A stocky canite with grey fur, another slightly shorter, but heavier set canite with brown fur and a felis with dirty tan fur and a mangy tail. The brown one pointed towards one of Runner's access panels. Falco was under the ship, welding something, his legs sticking out. It was obvious he was oblivious to their presence, and totally vulnerable. There was something about them that set Peppy's nerves on edge.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Peppy said, loudly enough he hoped Falco would hear.
The three of them spun round to face him. Peppy had thought Falco was a bit rough looking when they'd first met. These three made him look like the gentry. Falco slid out from under Runner's wing, welding torch in hand.
"Who the hell are you, old man?"
He had some cheek, Peppy was only a few years older than them. They looked Peppy up and down, in a way which was familiar, but he didn't like.
"This is my hanger." He growled. He was aware he was unarmed. He could probably handle two of the stupid delinquents, but he might struggle with all three. He figured Falco would probably be competent in a skirmish, if nothing else. "You're not welcome here."
Then, he became aware of Falco standing behind him, welding torch held up. "Fuck off Simpson and take your cronies with you."
They all looked at Falco. The grey furred canite scowled at him, then at Peppy. "Found yourself a sugar daddy, Lombardi?"
Falco took a step towards them, brandishing the torch. "Get out! Or I'll weld your fucking heads together!"
The three of them looked at them again, the felis took a single step forward. Then they collectively seemed to think better of it, turned and walked out.
Falco sighed, rolled his eyes and put the welding torch down. "Thanks. Did you see them do anything to Runner?"
Peppy shook his head. "No, I think I got here before they could do anything. You know them?"
Falco went over to the kitchen and put the kettle on. "Oh yeah, take no notice. They run Striking Cobra, Simpson, the grey one is their pilot and McAndrew the other canite is his mechanic. The felis is Smithy, he just hangs around and does some support work for them. They're all grade A dicks."
Peppy frowned, looking around the hanger. "They look quite a dangerous bunch."
Falco shrugged, getting some mugs out of the cabinets. "They talk harder than they punch."
Peppy's frown deepened, there was something deeply unsettling about them.
"Don't worry Peppy. They're not interested in Star Fox; they probably don't even know who you are. They were here for me."
Peppy didn't find that reassuring. "What have they got against you?"
Falco shrugged, and offered Peppy a coffee, which he took. "Dunno. Sour because I always beat them? But there's a fair few besides me that do that. They're usually dangling off the bottom of the table at the end of the season. They came eleventh last time."
"What did you get?"
"Fourth." he said with a shrug, sipping his coffee. "It wasn't a good season. I won the spring tournament."
Peppy had known that, but didn't want to let on. "Would they have sabotaged Runner?"
"Dunno. Wouldn't put it past them. Where's Fox and Slippy?"
"I left them getting breakfast from the burger van."
Falco sat down on Runner's wing. "That's brave."
"Yes, that's why I didn't join them." Peppy said with a smirk and sat down next to him.
"You're not hungry then?"
Peppy laughed. "Nothing would make me eat that stuff. They're both hung over. I've been up since six so I'm about ready for a nap."
"You're welcome to my cot." Falco said with smirk.
"Seriously, don't tempt me."

Falco walked back into the hanger, a large bag over his shoulder. Slippy was under Flying Fox, Peppy was crouched near him, handing him tools. Fox was just milling about in the hanger looking bored. Falco dumped his bag in the corner of the kitchen.
"Where you been Lombardi? You're like furniture, you're always here" Fox said chuckling.
Falco winced slightly. "Please don't call me that."
"It's your name isn't it?"
"I've asked you nicely."
"Well what should we call you then?" Fox said, teasingly. He was bored and restless.
"Just Falco is fine."
Peppy stood up, watching them. Fox was on his toes, tail wagging, a childish trait, asking Falco to play. Falco was clearly in no mood to, but Fox seemed to be a bit slow picking up Avion body language.
"Leave him alone Fox." Peppy cautioned.
"Oh c'mon you big blue chicken, lighten up a bit." Fox said, laughing and proceeded to walk around the hangar, clucking. There was no malice in him, but Peppy could see that Falco was on a short fuse. Fox walked back round to stand in front of Falco. "No meat on you though, you'd make a rubbish burger-"
Falco struck out with the flat of his hand, catching Fox in the middle of his chest, knocking all the wind out of him. It happened in a flash. Fox tipped forward, gasping. Falco sidestepped as Fox crumpled and grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him falling flat onto his face. He held him there long enough for Fox to regain some composure.
"Don't." Falco said, letting go of Fox's shirt, making him stagger.
With that, Falco skulked off into the corner of the hanger.
"Told you not to piss him off." Peppy said, coming over to the still coughing Fox, offering him a supportive arm. All the way through he'd been trying desperately to keep a straight face. The wisp of a smile hung at the edge of his features. Peppy knew that Fox's mocking meant he considered Falco a friend, Falco just hadn't got the message yet.
"That hurt, you bastard." Fox wheezed, once he'd mostly got his breath back.
"No shit, really?" Falco said, from where he now laid on his cot in the corner, his face in a mechanics handbook.
"Asshole." Fox muttered.
"Keep your mouth shut next time."
Fox was still simmering. Slippy had re-appeared from under Flying Fox.
"C'mon." Peppy said. "We're done for the day; we may as well go home."
"See ya Falco." Slippy called as they walked out.
Falco managed a smile and a wave for Slippy.