A Bad Option or a Worse One

The people who came to him weren't all bad. Some of them were just lonely. He could sympathise with that and liked them best. He even felt sorry for them. Sometimes they just wanted company, another person's touch. They asked about his bruises and got angry on his behalf. Then there were the others, the violent ones who thought of him as their property, or a piece of breathing meat. People like Simpson. He tried to avoid them, but no-one got to choose. He was popular because he had some degree of fame as a racer. Some of the others chose him because he was small, and lean, androgynous looking, some people were into that. It made him easier to dominate, though he would have complied regardless. His size put him at a disadvantage though. When they got violent it was hard to fight back. Sometimes they didn't mean to hurt him, but the difference in scale meant they did anyway. The man he'd been with just now had wanted little from him, he'd been in the room for less than twenty minutes. Falco was getting dressed when the door opened.
"You've been requested, Lombardi." Madame Jasmine said. "You've got an hour." She said to someone behind her.
Falco groaned, and turned to look. He was tired, he wanted to go home. The man came into the room and closed the door behind himself. It was Peppy.

He looked around the room. It was dank and smelt of men's bodies. Falco was stood by the bed, naked from the waist up, looking back at him with an expression of total horror. He seemed frozen in place. Peppy looked back at him, the feathers of his chest were not all one colour, but an undulating pattern of different blues and greys. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, he didn't know much about normal Avion physiology, but he could see Falco was painfully thin. Skinny in a way that made him want to wince. He was visibly shaking now, but the worst thing by far was the absolute, unbearable misery on his face. Peppy sighed and looked away.

He froze. The sudden plunging sense of horror was so strong the world spun. He had to grab hold of the headboard to stay standing. The initial rush of recognition receding, he just stared at Peppy. He hated the way his eyes wandered across his body. He felt naked, even though he wasn't. Peppy was a good man. A parent to Fox. He didn't do things like this. Vomit rose in his throat. They stared at each other. Falco was surprised to feel tears pricking at his eyes.
"Get dressed." Peppy said. Walking across the room to look out the window, peering down at the street, his back to him. Falco complied in silence. His head spun again into a dizzying whirl that made his hands shake as he pulled his shirt on. Dressed, he stood in silence. He wiped his face with one hand and found it was wet.

Peppy finally turned and looked at him. "I paid for an hour of your attention, Falco. That's all."
The thought of Peppy paying for anything made him feel sick. He wretched. It wasn't just his hands that were shaking anymore. He hadn't really heard what he'd said, what did that mean anyway?
"This room is... revolting. Are you allowed to leave?"
"I don't know. No-one has ever wanted to. I guess so, if I go with you." Falco heard himself say. His heart was beating hard in his chest, his ears were ringing in a way that made it hard to hear anything else, he felt like his vision was tunnelling.
"Come on then." Peppy said handing him his coat.~Peppy led him out onto the cold street. Madame Jasmine eyed them suspiciously, but didn't stop them. They walked in silence for a while. The frigid air helped to clear Falco's head. The tunnelling, spinning sensation eased somewhat as they just walked. Nothing different happened, he just followed Peppy along the street, much the same as he had in the weeks previously. He drew deep breaths, confused and hurting, but unharmed. Peppy led him to the edge of the river, and leaned against the wall, looking out. Falco stood next to him, his breath rising visibly in clouds before him. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure he could speak. A thick wrap of shame strangled his voice. He still wondered if this was some strange trick. He knew Peppy had the capacity for violence, but so far, he'd been so kind. Perhaps this was payback for all that time, but still he couldn't imagine this was his way.
"How did you end up in this mess?" Peppy asked.
One of the pleasure boats chugged down the river, music reverberating off the riverbanks, its lights sparkling off the dark water. Falco pulled his coat closer round himself, holding to it to stop his hands from shaking. He didn't know why he started talking, but speak he did.
"A few seasons back I was implicated in an accident. No-one died, but the pilot was badly hurt and her ship was destroyed. I was given a ban for the season. I couldn't race and I was alone. I still had bills to pay. It started as bar work but then..." He shrugged; he didn't want to put it into words. "Bar work doesn't pay very well. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time. Just temporary, but you never quite make enough money to get out. Runner would need an expensive repair, I'd have a few bad races, or I'd get beaten up and have to pay a big medical bill."
Peppy sighed. He didn't bother to ask about family, he thought he probably knew the answer.
"I didn't choose this!" Falco said, a hard edge in his voice. He didn't know why he'd continued to speak, but somewhere deep down he needed Peppy to understand. "Or if I did, it was because I'd run out of alternatives. It was this or drug running. At least this way I'm not hurting anyone else. Its legal here. I go to my health-checks. I even pay taxes. Fucking taxes, Peppy."
"I'm not blaming you, Falco. Or judging you." He said softly. "I want to give you an option. Come with me, and you'll never have to do any of that again. I can't guarantee I won't ask you to fly into an unsafe place, but I won't ask you to do it in a dangerous ship, or alone."
"Are you offering me... a job?" It was all so absurd, Falco actually laughed.
"It's a little more complicated than that, but yes, fundamentally, we need another pilot..."
The boats had gone. The river was black and silent. Falco wasn't sure what was going on, if he'd understood any of what Peppy had said. He replayed his words over a few times in his mind, looking for a trap. "Why are you doing this? Why me?"
Peppy shrugged. "Because you happened to be our neighbour, I like you, we need another pilot, and Avions make some of the best."
"You're rebuilding Star Fox."
"We've had a reprieve, but the war will return."
Falco sighed. "I'm not qualified for the academy. Even if I was, they don't accept..." He trailed off for a while. "People like me."
"I won't put you through the academy. I'll train you."
Falco pondered this. It all felt unreal. Training with his childhood hero was more than he could ever have hoped his life might become. It still felt like a trick, although he couldn't quite fathom how. Peppy seemed to be an honest man. If there was deception somewhere, Falco wasn't clever enough to find it.
"Why? There are hundreds of better candidates."
"Because you are too young and too talented to die here." Peppy said, a hard edge to his voice. "I think you'll fit in to our..." He hesitated, the word he'd wanted to use was family, but he decided that might frighten him away. "Team. You're tough enough to put Fox in his place, but you're also kind to Slippy. There aren't many who have both of those qualities."
Falco's face wrinkled into an expression Peppy couldn't read. He shook his head, and leant more heavily on the wall.
"What about you, what do you think of me?"
"I think you've had a shit roll of the dice and it's about time someone gave you a break. It's not a safe life, and I can't guarantee it'll be a long one, but you'll be trained to the highest standard and it might be a more comfortable life than this, while it lasts." Peppy shrugged. "The way you keep going I can't see you lasting long here either, but it's your choice."
Falco thought for a long time. Peppy zipped his coat up and braced himself against the cold. Another boat was chugging its way in the opposite direction along the river.
"What's in it for you?"
Peppy sighed, Falco was still staring out at the river. "Falco, look at me."
Falco turned towards him, and finally met his eyes.
"A long time ago, James McCloud helped me when I had made a real mess of my life. I could easily have ended up in a very dark place. He was there when I needed him. I want to pass that along."
"You don't owe James anything."
"It's not about owing anything, Falco. I just think if you have in your power the chance to help someone, you should. This isn't your fault; you undoubtedly didn't help yourself along the way, but at some point, if you carry on, it won't be a bottle, it'll be a knife, or worse. Someone will end up dead."
Falco looked at the ground, frowning.
"If you come though, there are conditions." Peppy said. "You leave this life behind, all of it. I have no violence on my ship. While watching you knock some sense into Fox was amusing at the time, we don't do that to each other outside of training, and if you try any of that on me, I'll flatten you so fast you won't know what happened."
Falco nodded.
"You say you're not qualified for the Acadamy. I don't know when you dropped out of education, but whenever it was, you'll go back and you'll finish it. That gives you options."
Falco blinked in bewilderment, that was something he hadn't thought about in so long he'd almost forgotten it was a thing people did.
"I also expect you to listen to me, if you come with us. I don't demand blind obedience, but I also don't like being ignored."
"Y-yes sir."
Peppy laughed. "You can start by never calling me sir again! Makes me feel ancient. In a combat scenario I might be your leader until Fox takes over, but the rest of the time I'm just your friend."
Falco nodded.
"I also hate being lied to. Give me the decency of being honest. I don't care what you've done, but I'm not psychic. If you're in trouble I need to know and I can't help you unless you ask."
Falco had to swallow down a lump in his throat so big he could hardly breathe and his eyes stung.
"You don't need to decide yet, we'll be here till the end of the season." Peppy looked at the device on his arm. "Well I've had my hour. I'll walk you back."
Peppy turned, and headed back towards The Three Sails.

Fox was sat on the sofa when he returned. He was glad to get inside into the warm. It sent a pang of guilt through him, and he remembered how lucky he was.
"Where have you been?" Fox asked.
The TV in the background was playing some awful action movie.
"The Three Sails."
Fox rolled his eyes and rubbed his face in his hand. "Fuck's sake Peppy. You can't keep doing this, you can't save everyone."
Peppy shrugged, going into the kitchen and putting the kettle on.
"When are you going to learn not everyone wants saving?"
Peppy sighed. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

The next day was a race day. By the time Fox and co arrived in the hangar, Runner was gone. Falco had finished his repairs over the week, and was out on the course, warming up.
"Did you piss him off?" Fox asked, standing back as Slippy climbed into the Flying Fox's cabin to start its boot process. The lights flickered briefly as it drew on the external power link, and all its cockpit displays flicked on.
"I don't think so." Peppy said. "But then, we are here later than I'd have liked, because someone couldn't get out of bed."
Fox chuckled, starting to suit up. "I need my beauty sleep."
Peppy rolled his eyes. "You should have been learning the course last night, not watching awful movies."
"I know the course."
Flying Fox's engines kicked into life with a whine that turned into a low roar, and it lifted itself off the ground. Slippy ran a few system checks and moved the control surfaces, watching them to make sure nothing stuck.
"You're all good to go." Slippy said, climbing down from the cockpit.
Fox pulled his helmet on, grinning.
"Be careful." Peppy said.
Fox hopped into the cockpit, gave them a thumbs up, and took the racer out onto the course.

Fox took his position on the grid. Falco was up ahead, as he had acquired more points overall in the season. Fox could see the back of Runner, its engine ports glowing blue, the mismatched metal in its repaired wing glinting in the grey light. As the last few racers took their places, it began to rain. The lights clicked down the last few seconds to the start of the race, almost in sync, the rain intensified, until it was a downpour. The barriers released them, and they surged forwards.

It had rained heavily overnight. The track was littered with deep pools of standing water. Though none of the racers touched the ground while they were in motion, the weather conditions did make a difference. Fox cursed quietly. Following closely behind the racer in front, the spray rising up from its after-blast cut his visibility. The anti-rain coating on the cockpit glass was struggling to repel the spray. Had he been at the course earlier, and done a few more practice laps, he'd have realised and Slippy could have applied a new coating. The camera feeds on the side of the ship were struggling too, one of them giving nothing but a white blur.
"It's like a river out here." Fox said over the comm.
"Yeah" Slippy said, "I'm trying to optimise Flying Fox for the conditions."
As Fox concentrated on chasing down fifth place his displays flicked as Slippy changed the settings remotely. His view began to clear slightly, but was still streaked with water.
"That's the best I can manage from here." Slippy said. "Watch your right hind quarter, Curtis is breathing down your neck."
"'s alright I see him."
Squinting through the spray, Fox surged Flying Fox's thrusters, and pulled away from Curtis.

At the last few corners, Fox and Falco were squabbling for second place. Falco was ahead and hanging on, Runner was slower, but it was smaller and more manoeuvrable, he could take the corners tighter and faster. Falco weaved across the course on the straights, blocking any attempts to pass him, and on the corners accelerated away, taking them at a breakneck pace that bordered on reckless.
"C'mon Fox, you can catch him!" Slippy goaded, "I'm sending some reserve power to your drive engine."
Fox grinned, gunning the engine as the precious extra power pushed him forward. He got within passing of Falco, then the Runner shifted sideways, sending up a wave of spray as they entered the sweep of a long corner. Fox was momentarily blinded, he had to back off to avoid smashing into one of the walls. When Fox's vision cleared, he'd been passed by another racer, although he couldn't see who past the stream of water flying up from the course. As they crossed the line, Falco had held on for second and Fox came in in fourth. It was annoying, to have held third for so long, but he just shrugged as he brought Flying Fox's speed down. It was one of those things. First had been won by Dark Panther, worth ten times that of any of the other ships, most of the teams had written off first place to them, and the real battle was over second and third. Falco's win had put him back in contention for a place on the podium at the end of the season.

Runner followed Flying Fox into the hanger, their engines winding down with a high-pitched whirr. Fox jumped out to a hail of cheers as soon as the cockpit swung open. Slippy gave him a high-five and Peppy grinned with a mixture of pride and relief.
"You were robbed at the end!" Slippy said, pouting a little.
Fox shrugged. "Nevermind, the races are always decided in the last few seconds."
Falco's cockpit unlatched with a hiss. He took his helmet off and ran his hand through the feathers at the back of his head, a mix of elation and relief on his face. A few seconds later Runner's engine whined into silence. He got up and swung his legs out of the side of the ship.
"You were awesome!" Slippy said.
Falco sat on the side of Runner, his legs dangling, a half smile on his face.
"Yeah, you were quite good." Fox said, smirking.
A grin spread across Falco's face and he jumped down. "Can't catch me, Furball!"
"You sprayed me on purpose, though, you bastard." Fox said, grinning.
"Yep, you were getting annoying, following me around like a big puppy."
Fox laughed and slapped Falco on the back. "I think this calls for a couple of beers. What you think?"
Falco grinned. "If you're buying."
"Yeah alright."

Laughing, the four of them headed out. Fox put his arm around Falco's middle, grinning, Falco, a little surprised initially, draped his arm over Fox's shoulders and they walked up the street like that, dodging the puddles. They were engaged in a post-race rundown. Fox did most of the talking, but Falco interjected now and again with gentle mocking of Fox's flying technique. Peppy glanced across at Slippy, an eyebrow raised. Slippy seemed as surprised as he was, but grinned in response to Peppy's questioning expression. Peppy was relieved, and pleased. He hadn't told any of them outright that he'd offered Falco a job, although he expected Fox knew. As they weaved up the street, he knew they'd be ok.

Peppy watched as Fox and Falco played pool at the table in the corner of the much more pleasant bar in the centre of town. Fox was winning, but Falco was taking it good naturedly, even to the point of allowing Fox to help him line up a shot. He felt himself smile. Falco had finally relaxed; they were just two kids having a nice time. Fox guided Falco's hand and a tricky shot went in. They both cheered and high-fived. Fox shifted to line up a shot. Falco watched from the other side of the table, leaning on the cue.
"Falco?"
"Mmmh?" Falco said, meeting Fox's eyes where Fox crouched over the table.
"What does 'ahsanta' mean?"
"Huh?" Falco said, coming closer so he could better hear what Fox was saying.
"Ahsanta... or ahshanta, what does it mean?" Fox said, potting the ball.
"Oh. Uh. Help me. Or save me, depending on the context. Where did you hear that?"
Fox hesitated for just long enough for Falco to realise.
"Oh. Did I say that?"
"Y-yeah."
Falco squirmed awkwardly. "Ugh. Sorry. Musta banged my head harder than I thought."
Fox shrugged, taking the shot. He missed. "I think you were talking about your boots."
"Oh." Falco said and lined up a shot. "I don't remember anything from that night between getting in the apartment door and waking up in the morning."
Falco took the shot, grinning somewhat surprised as the ball went in.
"Doesn't that freak you out?"
Falco lined up another shot. "Not really, I was with you and Peppy, I knew I'd be fine." He took the shot and missed. "I went to a party once and woke up in a garage the next day with no idea what had happened to me."
"Jeez. That's actually terrifying. Doesn't that scare you?"
"I try not to think about it." He frowned. "I've never mentioned that to anyone. Don't make a big deal out of it."
Fox bent to take his shot. He'd been so drunk before he had only the vaguest memory of the night he'd had, but he'd always woken up at home. Usually to listen to Peppy lecture him about being careful. There'd always been someone to notice if he wasn't back and a friend to bring him home safe.
"Where were your friends?"
Falco shrugged. "The guy I went with was long gone. There wasn't anyone else."
Fox potted the ball. The game was coming to an end. "I'm sorry... that's, pretty crap."
Falco smiled, as Fox cleared the table. "Yeah, tell me about it..."

In one corner, away from the pool table, Peppy and Slippy sat together. More relaxed here than he had been at The Sails, Peppy was enjoying a bout of people watching. There was a family in the far corner eating dinner together, their daughter was just at the stage where she repeated everything her parents said. Peppy simultaneously found this adorable, and thought it must get wearing after a while, and was glad he'd managed to bypass that stage. Slippy was playing a game on his comm next to him. He was getting progressively worse at it the more alcohol he consumed. He swore as the game over symbol flashed up for what felt like the hundredth time. Peppy coughed accusingly.
"Sorry." Slippy said with an apologetic smirk.
Peppy shook his head and shrugged. "I think I'm fighting a losing battle with that, aren't I? Especially if you're going to spend more time around the big blue potty mouth."
Slippy laughed. "You should hear him when you're not around."
"Wow, it must be every other word, then." Peppy said. "I asked him to come with us, Slip'."
"Falco? Really?"
Peppy nodded, downing the lasts of his pint. "Yeah."
"That's cool!" Slippy said, grinning. "I like him, he's nice."
"You think he'll come?"
"I don't know." Slippy frowned. "I hope so. He's lonely."

Falco and Fox had finished their game and came over to them.
"You want another one?" Fox asked as Falco sat down.
"Yes please." Peppy and Slippy chorused.
"No, thank you." Falco said. "I haven't finished the last one. That's enough for me."
"Suit yourself, lightweight." Fox laughed and headed off to the bar.
"He's going to try to chat up that girl." Slippy said, leaning across to Falco.
Falco raised a brow, watching and laughed. "Her boyfriend might not appreciate that. Saw them together earlier, he must be in the bog."
They watched, chuckling. True to Slippy's predictions, Fox began talking to the woman at the bar. When the man she'd arrived with returned, Fox did some serious back peddling, and came back to them with the drinks. He grinned.
"Please tell me you weren't watching all of that."
"We absolutely were." Falco said. "How often does that work for ya?"
Fox shrugged with a playful smile. "Roughly one in ten."
"He gets more desperate as the night goes on."
"Oh shut up Slippy, or I'll tip your beer in your lap."
"That would be such a waste..." Peppy commented mildly, taking his. "Cheers boys, bad luck Fox."
Falco raised his glass with them, and absently thought, that of all the men he could end up going home with, Fox wouldn't be so bad. He shook his head, and dispelled that thought as fast as it had arrived.

After another round of drinks and shots for Fox and Slippy, they eventually extracted themselves from the bar. Falco and Peppy walked out together. The cold air was a shock to Peppy, making his head spin.
"You're pissed." Falco said with a chuckle.
"Nah, just a bit jolly." Peppy said with a smile. "Are you going anywhere else tonight?"
"No." Falco said with what might have been a relieved shake of his head. "I have to get some shopping, then I'm going" He hesitated. "Home."
Peppy nodded. "Well it's a cold night, wrap up warm, ok?"
Falco smiled. "Yeah, you too. Go careful."
Slippy and Fox staggered out of the pub, laughing about something they didn't share.
"You coming to the yard tomorrow?" Falco asked, shoving his hands into his pockets against the cold.
"Yeah."
Falco nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Night guys."
"Night Feathers!"
Falco shook his head with a half-smile, and disappeared into the dark.

The small supermarket was mostly empty except for some teenagers buying booze and a fraught looking mother and her small child. The night had taken on a bitter chill and Falco was relieved to get inside. Second place in the day's race gave him a big enough pay-out not to have to worry quite so much what he bought, but old habits die hard, especially when he didn't know what the next days would bring. He wandered the shelves, buying mainly the essentials, a few sachets of hot chocolate and a new jar of reasonable quality coffee, seeing as though it had been disappearing much faster recently. He checked out, hugged his jacket tighter round himself to brace against the cold, and went out onto the street.

He pulled at a slice of jerky with a beak as he walked, one of his favourite things, his mother had said eating it made him look like an animal. He always bought it when he could, just to spite her. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him, focused as he was on the strips of barbeque flavoured meat. He was aware of how cold his hands were, that the shopping bag was heavy, but very little else. Only as the footsteps drew closer did his sense of danger really return. Simpson, McAndrew and Smithy closed in around him and he knew he was in trouble.