Macbeth

Forest

2:57 AM


"Normal speech"

"Thoughts"

-"Radio/comms"-


Noah's vision slowly returned to him, the husky blinking as he tried to pick himself up from the snow. He couldn't feel his left arm below the elbow, and the sight of it being bent at an unnatural angle made his blood run cold.

"Shit…"

He knew that trying to put any weight on it would cause a stunning amount of pain, and he shifted his efforts of standing up onto his right arm, using the tree he hit earlier as a brace. After some effort, Noah was able to stagger to his feet, holding his limp left arm. Eyeing the truck, he saw his commanding officer pull herself out of the cab, her own face having received a gash across her muzzle. She didn't look too worse for wear though, climbing down to the ground with little issue and eyeing Noah.

"You hurt?"

He nodded back, voice weak. "...I-I think my arm's broken."

"Damn… Doesn't hurt too much I hope?"

"Not yet, no…"

"Good." She nodded back, looking to find the rest of what was left of the squad. "We need to move, Cornerians are going to be here soon to mop us up if we don't hurry… Where's our launcher?"

Noah turned around, remembering seeing it fall next to him earlier but forgetting to do anything about it. Slowly walking up, he crouched down to take a look. The thing still looked intact, if dotted with flakes of snow from being left on the ground.

"Right here, still looks okay."

"Thank the goddamn stars…" She turned to a pair of troopers walking around from behind the truck, one leaning on the other's shoulder. "You two, grab the launcher and whatever ammo you can carry from the crate, we can't walk with the box."

"Right, on it." One of them replied, brushing past Noah and going for the weapon on the ground, the other starting to fish through the crate.

"...You know we can't walk back to the bunker like this. Thing's miles away and Derance took the medkit into the river with him." Noah mumbled, still holding his arm and talking directly to his commanding officer. Back-talk like that usually wouldn't go well for him, but she didn't seem to care anymore.

"I know, that's why we're not walking there at all, not tonight?"

"W-what are you saying?"

She turned her head, ears having perked up from an unknown sound in the treeline. "...There's a small town across the hills nearby, we passed by the intersection on the way here. Place is abandoned but we've got a bomb shelter underneath one of the houses. We can stay there until morning."

"Finally, some good goddamn news." Noah let out a little bit of a smile, knowing they might be able to pull this off after all.

"How far?"

"Close enough to-"

A distant blaster shot echoed out of the trees, the bolt slamming into the cab just a few feet from where she was standing, kicking up a shower of sparks on impact.

"They're here, run goddamnit!"

Noah went for his sidearm, still in it's holster despite the crash. He could still use it with a single good hand, but reloading it mid-fight would be effectively impossible. All of them ran for the treeline, away from where the shot had come from. Whoever had fired took another shot, it sailing directly over Noah's head and crashing into a tree trunk in front of him. A trooper running alongside him slowed to squeeze a few shots of return fire, acting as more of a distraction rather than an accurate burst.

More blasterfire erupted from behind them, the forest becoming a lightshow as red Cornerian shots clashed with the blue from the few able-bodied soldiers in Noah's squad. He couldn't tell how many dogs were chasing them; none of them did with the volume of fire peppering the trees around them, a lucky shot catching a rebel in the back. He collapsed without a sound, rifle tumbling ahead and clattering on the snowy rocks.

Noah had no time to think about it, looking behind him and squeezing off a few wildly inaccurate shots from his pistol in a panic, receiving more concentrated fire in return and forcing him to duck behind a particularly thick tree. He covered his ears and closed his eyes, hearing the report of a crew-served machine gun in the distance let loose into the tree behind him, cutting into the poor wood with ease.

"I'm not ready for this, I'm not ready for this…" He mumbled, voice shaky as an idea popped into his mind, despite being under fire. His fingers on his good hand searched around his chest rig, quickly finding a small smoke grenade he still had with him.

"Please work…"

Pulling the pin and letting the spoon flip open, he waited a few seconds before limply tossing the device behind him. It sailed through the air, landing in the snow behind him a good few yards away. With a hiss, the device began pouring a thick, white smokescreen out of both ends that quickly grew in size. It flowed around the trees, concealing Noah's spot behind the tree, to the point the presumed MG team let off the trigger, letting the rebel pick himself up and scamper deeper into the woods.

He knew he had fallen behind what was left of his squad, but it was only a moment until he spotted a friendly trooper firing back blindly into the smoke cloud, blue tracers leaping from his blaster rifle's muzzle and blazing downrange.

"Come on, get behind me!" He yelled, starting to walk backwards as Noah got closer and eventually retreating himself, both of them soon finding their commanding officer and the two other soldiers carrying the precious launcher and it's ammo, all taking cover behind a large outcrop of rocks nearby.

"How much further?" He asked, looking behind them at the bottom of the hill. It was really more of a mountain with how steep the face of it was, covered in jagged, damp rocks and fresh snow.

"Just up ahead, the entrance is boarded up." She replied with a huff, tired from running.

"...What if they're on the other side, waiting for us?"

"You have a better idea, Corporal?"

"...No." Noah mumbled, knowing she was right.

The sergeant looked around for a second, trying to get a headcount, sighing after realizing one of her men was left behind. "...Follow me, we're heading for the tunnel."

What was left of the squad nodded, sticking closely behind her as she broke into a jog with her rifle, looking along the base of the hill. They could still hear the occasional blaster shot call out in the distance, knowing they only had a few minutes before whatever Cornerians behind them would be within easy rifle range. The Cornerians must have known they couldn't climb the slope, and were likely starting to encircle their position now that the rebels were getting cornered.

"There, up ahead!"

The entrance to the mineshaft stuck out from the mountainside ahead of them like a concrete tumor on the rock, hopefully promising them a way out of the mess they found themselves in.

The Sergeant reached the entrance, growling to herself upon finding the tunnel portal having been blocked with thick wooden planks.

"...I need a grenade, now!"

The trooper next to Noah fished around his chest rig, quickly finding and pulling out a single fragmentation grenade. It wasn't much larger than his hand, but she snatched it up without another word, using a hand signal to tell them to stay well back.

"Here goes…" Pulling the pin and letting go of the spoon, she simply dropped the device on the ground, running to take cover behind the concrete embankments of the tunnel where the rest of them were hiding.

Noah plugged his ears again, trying to use his good arm to cover both in the few seconds they had before the grenade went off. It did not a moment later, the small device violently detonating just a few meters away, spraying hundreds of lethal fragments across everything not behind something solid. The blast wave rippled over the squad, causing the poor lupine's ears to ring in pain from being so close, groaning from the shock.

His sergeant didn't seem to care much, however, poking her head around the corner. The frag seemed to have done the trick, the concrete peppered with tiny black marks, and the wooden barricade having been blown inwards enough to let them pass.

"Hurry! Inside!"

Not wanting to spend a second longer outside, the rest of her squad dashed their way through the blasted entrance, Noah stumbling as he brought up the rear. He took one last look outside, staring into the treeline and spotting the beams of Cornerian rifle flashlights, all heading towards them.

"Get your ass in gear, Corporal!"

"R-right, sorry…"

The mineshaft was pitch black inside, having lost power to the overhead lights years ago when it was abandoned, forcing the group to use their own. Taking point, the sergeant's rifle light danced across the rock walls and metal supports, illuminating what was left of a set of rails built into the dusty ground for narrow-gauge railcars. Stretching onwards, the tunnel followed a loosely straight path into the mountain, giving them a rather narrow, if clear path forward.

"They're in the tunnel! Couldn't have gone anywhere else!"

Noah heard a distant voice echo up the tunnel, sluggishly turning around to aim his pistol at whoever was behind them, fearing they were closer than he'd like. His glowing sights lined up to nothing yet however, only dark mineshaft behind. They needed to hurry, less they get surrounded from the other side, just as Noah feared. The other four in the group heard it clear as day, picking up the pace down the tunnel.

Still running, the mineshaft split into two tunnels, one leading directly to the right and the other continuing forward. The group stopped, shining their lights down either branch as far as they would go.

"...Which way?" One trooper asked, now watching behind them and covering Noah as he hobbled along, legs starting to numb.

"We'll get boxed in if we're wrong..."

"Quiet, let me think…" She paused for a moment, looking around the walls with her light, trying to find any sort of direction or markings the miners might've left behind. She soon found nothing however, and they were forced to blindly choose between the two.

"Keep heading straight, we can't afford to take any detours."

Echoing Cornerian footsteps getting closer, the squad broke into their own run, Noah barely being able to keep up behind. The tunnel seemed endless to him, never changing its appearance other than the occasional slope up or down to the point he'd lost track of how deep they had walked.

He flinched as a Cornerian blaster bolt impacted the wall next to him, fired from behind. Noah turned around, returning the favor with his pistol, aim shakey as he failed to hit the clearly visible Cornerian behind. The husky was answered with more gunfire, a shot burning a hole through the coat he wore under his armor and grazing his fur. Pain shot up through his leg, forcing him to stagger in his run as he winced, squeezing the trigger on his now-empty sidearm.

A friendly trooper ran by him, laying down suppressive fire with his own weapon, yelling at Noah over the sound.

"Run! Go! I'll hold them off!"

Noah's eyes widened, realizing the trooper was willing to sacrifice himself so the rest could get further. He didn't have time to talk him down, not over the echo of blaster fire anyways.

"T-thanks, I, uh…"

"Just go!" The canine shouted back, waving for Noah to leave.

"...Right, right…"

He slinked off, reluctantly letting the trooper bear down the weight of the platoon of Cornerians chasing him. Noah lost sight of him as he rounded a corner, only seeing the glow of the blaster-bolt light show between the red and blue behind him as he caught up with what was left of his squad.

"Where's Regar?" His officer quickly asked, looking down the tunnel behind where Noah had run from.

"He… He stayed behind." Noah replied in a weak huff, catching his breath for the moment they had.

"...I see…" Her voice seemed remorseful, closing her eyes for a brief moment before starting down the tunnel again. "...He won't be forgotten, with any luck he'll buy us time."

Noah's group pressed onwards, running down the tunnel as fast as the weight they all carried would allow. It wasn't too long before they reached another junction of sorts, the mine only branching out into a small alcove between the steel support pillars.

The rebel carrying the launcher screamed in pain, falling to the rocky ground face-first and dropping the weapon. His partner, carrying the ammunition, spun around his shotgun after spotting something moving among the shadows, pulling the trigger and sending a spray of pellets into the wall. Racking the slide, preparing another shot before he too fell, Noah spotting a large blade having found its way into his chest.

The Sergeant whipped around her own rifle, sending a long automatic burst into whoever had stabbed her soldier. The figure was faster, though, grabbing the barrel of the gun and forcing the fire into the ceiling of the tunnel. Noah aimed his own pistol, catching another tall canine kicking his commanding officer in the stomach with an armored boot. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her chest in pain.

"I've got you now, asshole…"

Noah lined up his sights on the dark canine's torso, squinting and slowly squeezing the trigger.

Click

Noah panicked, pulling the trigger again.

Click

"Oh goddamnit, of course."

The tall figure's ears perked up, now fully in the beam of his pistol light. The canine was outfitted in a set of light armor, Cornarian-made from the sight of the small patch on each shoulder. It looked cut-down, trading in the armor plates on the arms and legs for more freedom of movement, all draped in a snowy forest camo.

The Cornerian chuckled, giving his commanding officer's body a light kick. She was still alive, but it didn't look like she'd be up anytime soon as far as he could tell.

"Figured you'd all use this mineshaft, really. You didn't have any other options, did you, Sergeant Naomi?"

The dog was feminie in her tone, sliding a long blade back into its sheath on her back, still freshly covered in blood. Noah recognized the patch on her arm; CSOC. He'd heard about CSOC, standing for "Cornerian Special Operations Committee", being one step up from normal Cornerian spec-ops units. They hadn't announced themselves to his group as of yet, but now that seemed to have changed for the worse.

"...Piss off…" Naomi croaked, trying to get back on her feet only to receive another blow to the stomach.

"Don't feel bad, really. I'm impressed you and your little band of losers brought down that gunship… Tell me…" She turned around, staring at Noah directly. The dog wasn't wearing a helmet, only a small headset and microphone sat between her tall, thin brown ears.

"How'd you manage to do it? Where'd you get that launcher of yours, huh? We know you were meeting with someone."

"...A-ain't saying shit…"

Naomi howled in pain as another kick landed, aimed at her muzzle this time.

"It's clear you have a benefactor of sorts, one that's willing to supply you with high-end military equipment that can apparently eat the hull of a gunship. Who are they? Ex-Venomian?" The dog inquired, stepping away from the Sergeant.

Noah knew fighting whoever this was would only get him killed faster, but without his pistol there was little else he could do. He couldn't stand seeing Naomi suffer, and it seemed like this Cornerian wasn't taking him as a threat. She was right, though…

"Alright, mister broken arm." She glared at Noah, walking towards him. "We're going to play a little game. You're going to tell me who it is that's supplying you, and I won't kill her. You give me an answer I don't like, and I kick her again."

He took a step back, keeping as much distance as possible from her. In reality, he really had no idea who had given them the launcher, and saying 'Large, armored canine' wouldn't work as an answer. He thought about stalling for time, but for who? Nobody was coming to save them, and the longer they spent here the sooner the rest of the Cornerians would arrive.

"...And if I do?" He finally responded, weakly.

She smiled, standing still. "Simple, you both live. For the moment, at least."

The sentence seemed to roll off her tongue a bit too easily for Noah's liking, she was probably enjoying this.

"Great, so I'm fucked either way. Uhhhh…" Quickly, he made a 'plan', or, if what he could call a hastily cobbled together idea a 'plan'.

"...Fine. I-I'll tell you what I know."

"Good dog! See, was that so hard?" Her tone was almost playful.

"...Alright. We're being supplied by… Some ex-Venomian militia's giving us equipment, the launcher's Venomian tech…" It was an outright lie, but he really didn't know much to say anything more about where the weapon was from. Noah figured calling it Venomian tech might get a pass, as it was hardly the most exotic weapon Andross's lab had created. It's shape and lack of markings wouldn't help, but what else was he going to say?

"...I see…" She mumbled, narrowing her eyes and frowning. "It's quite the interesting piece of tech they were willing to give away in that case… Tell me, why would a bunch of monkeys be interested in your little group? Such a… Powerful weapon wouldn't be traded hands so easily, I would think… Not without a price."

His excuse was already beginning to fall apart. "Uh… We-we've been in an agreement for a while… They give us weapons in e-exchange for information, only started to hold up their end of the deal a few days ago."

The CSOC agent kept her gaze locked on him as she walked around, reaching down and picking up the launcher. Looking the large weapon over in her hands, she chuckled.

"Well, this certainly isn't any bit of Venomian tech I've seen before…" She turned around, facing him yet still looking over the launcher, examining the massive targeting computer and optic. "I was in Venom during the war, you know. If anyone would know about Venomian surface-to-air missiles… Well, they don't eat hulls, you know. No missile does that…"

Noah half-faked a shrug, knowing about as much as she did. "I-I don't know. Please, I'm just a soldier-"

"No!" She shot back, setting the weapon down and drawing a large knife from her chest rig. "You're nothing, you have no oath, nothing to truly fight for! You're a goddamn rebel, and worse of all…" She twirled the blade in her hand, holding it with the blade facing down. "A terrible, bloody liar!"

She ran at him, teeth bared as the canine tried to bury her knife in his skull. Noah clumsily ran to the side, unable to fully dodge her attack and receiving a slash to his sleeve. Adrenaline kept him going through the pain for now, throwing himself backward to avoid another slash by inches. Fighting her directly would be sucide with her holding the knife, not to mention his current physical condition.

Regardless, if he was going to die in some wretched mineshaft, he wouldn't go quietly. He might buy time for Naomi to run, too, provided she could.

Noah decided he'd do something stupid. Instead of trying to avoid her knife swings, he tackled her. Putting his good arm out, the canine lunged onto the CSOC agent, knocking her over onto the stone floor. She buried her knife into the back of his bad arm's shoulder, grabbing his throat with the other. He threw a sloppy punch, striking her in the side of the muzzle with a wet thawk, dislodging a small tooth with the impact.

"JUST… DIE… ALREADY!" She screamed, stabbing her knife into his back again and hitting his armor plate.

Noah refused her offer, still being choked out to the point his second swing didn't effectively connect. He felt his strength slowly leave him, vision through his helmet becoming more and more blurry with each second that passed, taking another stab to the armor plate on his back. The two's faces were inches apart, and she might've gone for a bite were he not wearing his helmet.

"GET OFF!"

Noah felt himself roll over, ending up on his back and watching the ceiling, utterly lacking the energy to get up and only focusing on catching his breath.

"YOU…"

She spat out a broken tooth, sheathing her knife and reaching for her holster. Noah saw her draw a suppressed pistol, fire in her eyes as she took off the safety and leveled the barrel at his head. The agent's finger slowly squeezed the trigger, producing a tiny smile from the corners of her mouth.

A single gunshot echoed off the tunnel walls, lighting up the dim interior in a flash. The agent was thrown backwards screaming in pain from the impact on her chest, light armor caved in by a slug from the shotgun Naomi was now weidling. The sergeant racked the slide, wincing in pain as the recoil from the second shot ate into her shoulder and sending another slug into the downed Cornerian, stopping her dead from firing back with the pistol she still clutched.

He tilted his head, staring at Naomi with a weak glance and watching her approach the dog that was now on the floor, clutching her chest and groaning in pain from both impacts. The shotgun slugs had little issue with puncturing her armor, the plate designed to absorb thermal rather than kinetic energy.

"Y-you… Goddamn… T-traitor…" She spat, trying to lift her pistol again. Naomi was having none of it though, grabbing the gun and yanking it away.

"Y-you just g-got lucky… Should've… Should've finished you off…"

"Nah." She shoved the gun in a pouch on her chest rig for later, giving the downed CSOC agent one last look. "You got arrogant. Asshole."

A blank stare was all the Sergeant got back before going to help Noah, still on the ground. With a bit of effort, he was back on his feet, but had to use Naomi as something to lean on.

"How bad is it?"

"I'll live, uh, I think."

She nodded once, letting him lean on the side of the tunnel before retrieving the launcher. With the weapon slung over her back and Noah using her for support, they started to limp back down the tunnel again, both too injured to fight much anymore. The loss of the last of their squad weighed heavily on her, with the wolf's mood severely dampened again. Could she have made a better choice? Was this launcher even worth all the pain at this point? Would she have lost almost her entire squad if they had put the whole operation off by a few days?

There were too many variables outside of their control, but the question gave her something to think about as they hobbled through the mineshaft, focusing on little else but putting one foot in front of the other. It was odd that the Cornerians hadn't caught up to them yet, perhaps too busy trying to save the agent or otherwise getting lost. The tunnels still branched out every now and again, but a tiny trickle of a stream gave Naomi a general direction along the floor where to go.

"We get out alive... I'll uh, I'll buy us drinks…"


3 weeks later

Low Corneria Orbit

Great Fox 2


-"...I can't thank you enough, McCloud. None of our freighters would've made it through the blockade without your foresight."-

Fox took another bite of his sandwich, letting the crumbling bread crumbs fall on his plate as he chewed.

"Hmm…" The vulpine shrugged, setting down his meal. "Can't say I did all the work, having a telepath on the team helps a ton with getting information."

-"Still, we'd be financially crippled if those ships hadn't completed their cargo runs, we're short on funding already."-

"Not short enough to pay some mercs, though." Fox added, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Glad to be of service, though. I'll take those extra munitions you're… Well, 'donating' in place of half of our agreed payment, you know smart bombs are expensive."

-"Of course… Thank you, again, Starfox…"-

"Just business, but thanks."

Fox's call disconnected a few moments later, with the bridge falling silent once again. He had just been on the line with the CEO of Red Arrow shipping, having just finished up an escort contract for a freighter convoy with the company a day earlier. The vulpine pulled up his phone, checking the team's shared banking account and found it a few hundred thousand credits larger.

"Good… That pays upkeep the next few months…"

Fox picked himself up off the couch, standing up on the cold metal decking with bare feet. He wasn't wearing much, just a pair of shorts and a white, slightly stained tank top. Hardly what a professional would wear, but his team's reputation carried him further than that ever did. Still, despite his team's prestige, contracts around Corneria were becoming slim with the CDF still declaring a half-state of martial law on the planet. It had been less than two years since the Aparoids had been beaten back and destroyed after all, for the most part.

Most of the system was still rebuilding, and sometimes Fox joked he'd wished he'd gotten into the construction industry. Regardless of the lack of work, the bills were paid for the moment, and he and his team could relax for a few days. He turned around, starting to walk out of the bridge and towards the elevator leading to the cabin deck. Fox didn't get too far, though.

"Commander McCloud."

ROB's voice hollered at him from across the bridge, with the robot's station being near the nose. Integrating his control station into the new Great Fox had been a technical nightmare with the older vessel, but Slippy eventually figured it out with help from Beltino.

"Hmm?"

"I regret to inform, but you have another incoming call."

Fox walked back into the bridge, a tad annoyed that his shower would have to wait.

"From who?"

"General Pepper."

The vulpine was a bit surprised, having last spoken to Pepper months ago, still in recovery.

"Pepper? Haven't heard from him in ages."

"Shall I accept?"

"Of-of course."

Fox took his seat on the couch again, having positioned the piece of furniture nearby the holographic project linked to comms for this very reason. Pepper's face came into view in a wash of blue particles, rapidly assembling themselves into a live image of the general's head.

-"Ahh… Fox. It's good to see you again."- The old hound's face still had a collection of bandages around his temple, left eye, and the top of his skull. All leftovers from the surgery he'd undergone after getting infected. His voice seemed better though, not quite as weary as last time Fox had met him.

"Pepper! Y-you sound like you're doing better."

The dog nodded, slowly. -"Indeed… Indeed. My doctors are saying I'll make a partial recovery… From what I understand, the nanites and chemo I've undergone… Well, it's knocked a few years off how long I'm expecting to live."-

Fox was disheartened, hearing the news. It wasn't the worst he'd heard, but it still gave the entire conversation a sad undertone. "I-I see… I'm sorry…"

Pepper almost chuckled at hearing Fox's reaction. -"Don't feel bad… Heh, only means I get to retire sooner… Getting rather sick of the politics I'm always being dragged into anyways, and I hear a few resorts on Aquas are still runnin'... Might be a good time to go soon, before all the people flock back."-

He couldn't argue with that, but he doubted Pepper would call him over a secure channel just to chat. "Fair point." He replied with a sad smile. "Still, what's the occasion? Can't be just to chat, otherwise you would've just called me on the phone."

The general nodded again, clearing his throat. -"Right you are… No, as much as I like catching up, I find myself in a difficult spot. Long story short, there's rumors of a rebellion stirring on MacBeth."-

"You're serious?" Fox raised an eyebrow, a bit stunned that anyone would choose a time like this to fight back, but it hit him like a truck a moment later. "Right… With the CDF spread thin…"

-"Correct. Our forces are spread thin. Despite having a few Infantry and light armor Divisions stationed there, we utterly lack much of any potent air power there. All we have are a handful of gunships and scouting aircraft… Er, even less gunships now, but you get my point."-

"I see where this is going; You want my team to provide air cover to local CDF units?"

-"Essentially, yes… We've had issues with a multitude of rebel groups on MacBeth for years, before the Aparoids came around. Most were ex-venomian, still fighting on in the mad doctor's name, things like that. However, none had posed themselves as a real possible threat until recently…"-

Pepper's face was moved to the side in the projector's particle field, with the space being filled with pictures of scrolling data and photographs of documents. Fox didn't have time to read much before the general's now smaller head spoke again.

-"Meet the 'MacBethian Independence front'."- Pepper spoke, using the name with a slightly disdainful tone. -"They're remnants of a rather… Unsavory PMC that disbanded after the Lylat wars, and they've proven themselves quite a thorn to stability in one of the planet's more mountainous and forested regions."-

The blue particles reassembled themselves into a holographic model of a canid soldier, dressed in a thick winter coat and covered in body armor. -"They're rather well-equipped for a bunch of rebels, having their own uniforms and armor. Despite being few in number, their guerilla tactics have proven a bit more effective than I'd like, and we've lost a good sum of personnel and equipment to their attacks."-

Fox crossed his arms, thinking. "Alright, alright… So, I'm guessing Starfox would be stationed planetside and kept ready to launch? You know what my team can do to ground targets, but we can only do so much if they run off into the woods before we get to whatever target they're after."

-"Actually… I'd would be recommending a more… Active, role. Local leadership is planning a few high-profile operations that they'll want air support for. Convoy escort of a high-value target, things along those lines."-

"Alright… I know going into a warzone always carries risk, but what are these rebels using as weapons? I'm not talking about small-arms, more like anti-aircraft stuff. Things I should be worried about."

-"Well…"- Pepper's voice seemed reluctant to speak on the matter, but seemed to decide to spill the information. -"I hate admitting it, but the MIF has been able to capture a number of MANPADS… Still, our countermeasures have been enough to jam or confuse most missiles fired by them, and the IFF tag system scrambles them further. Though, we've had a few close calls, and I've only heard of one gunship being ambushed and taken down by dumbfire rockets."-

"Hmm… Okay, nothing our wings' can't handle I think, long as we get updated IFF tags we should be fine." Missiles hadn't proven too much of a threat to Fox and his team, usually easily thrown off by a barrel roll or two. Quick, surface to air missiles were another story, but he didn't feel too threatened by spotty stolen air defence systems.

-"My thoughts exactly. We're still trying to catch up to your Arwings in terms of performance with our own craft. If their missiles have a hard time with our aircraft, I see yours having no issues."-

Fox chuckled, thinking about rather pathetic missiles having a targeting error and flying back to the launcher. "Well, I've gotta say, almost sounds like easy work if they can't do much in terms of taking down aircraft. Though, I've gotta ask… How much would a contract like this pay? I'm not worried about going broke right now, but something like this sounds like a long op."

-"Ahh… I figured you'd ask. I think you'll like this… Tell me, how many years are left on the original Great Fox's loan?"-

He had a feeling where Pepper was going with this, thinking back to when his father had the ship commissioned. "...At least another 30 years, I think. ROB would have the exact amount."

-"Alright… Now, I will only be able to do this once… I believe I can, well, 'arrange' some funding, enough to fully pay off the rest of the ship's loan."-

The vulpine's mouth went slightly agape. Paying off his entire loan? That was easily worth another few million credits at least, and whoever inherited the ship after him wouldn't be bogged down with the payments either.

"You-you're kidding…"

Pepper's face remained firm, watching Fox's reaction.

"You're not? Are you?"

-"Not at all, Fox."- Pepper replied, shaking his head. -"Consider it my final gift to you, and the Starfox team, before I retire. Though, I also know that this will likely be the last mission I give you. Not only will I stepping down from my post, but the newly-elected Prime Minister is putting in motion a plan to cut the CDF's budget in the coming months…"-

He was taken back for a moment, hearing the news. "...Why? That-that doesn't make any sense… With this situation on MacBeth, and the…"

"I'm afraid I don't know either, Fox. The man seems to have no limit on the funding he can pull up, and I fear he might have… Bribed, some of my colleagues. I may not have the needed funding for long, but I will set some aside regardless, for you."-

Fox almost shed a tear, smiling back. It was one hell of a send-off for Pepper's long career, and it would free up Fox forever, financially. "I-I… Thank you… Yeah, yeah, I think I'll take it."

Pepper chuckled back, returning the look. -"Hmm, I figured you'd pick up on it… Of course, I'd consult your team, though. This operation may last a good month, or two, Lylus forbid…"-

"Alright, already planning on talking to the crew anyways… When does this whole thing start, though?"

-"In roughly another week, I believe. You'll have time before anything starts."-

"Good, good…" Fox replied, nodding in thought. "Okay, yeah, I've got some things to do on Corneria, but I'll get the wings' prepped with some heavier munitions."

-"Thinking ahead, good. Very well then, I'll be sending you the rest of the details soon, but otherwise… Yes, I think that is all for now, I need to walk through a crowd of journalists soon, they love taking everything you say out of context, you know?"-