Chapter 21

Fuzzy stared out the canopy, watching space slowly become sky as the fighter descended into Katina's atmosphere.

Behind Husky squadron were the survivors of the 1st Tactical Bomber Wing. All 10 of them.

We lost half of our guys, but they got 10 left out of an original 48. Fuzzy shuddered. The two Lightnings the Huskies had managed to save were flying by themselves at the back, the fighters looking tired and broken.

And Dana's not one of them. Fuzzy thought, recalling the girl he'd been flirting with before the battle.

Fuzzy guided his fighter in behind Bill's as the squadron came in for landing at the Katina City base. The green forest underneath his fighter contrasted sharply with the gray metallic landing pad. With a slight shudder, the fighter touched down, landing right next to the hangar.

Fuzzy unbuckled his safety restraint, grabbed his pack from the rear compartment and followed the squadron out. As he stepped out into the hot Katina City summer, he took a moment to realize where he was. In the short fortnight-and-a-half he had been on deployment, he had already grown accustomed to metal decks and sterile air supplies. The move back to what could be considered a normal environment was a surprising transition, though a welcome one nonetheless.

Fuzzy followed the other survivors from his squadron to the main base, where they were registered and allowed back out into the civilian world, for however long it took to get the fleet repaired. There was no need for any debriefing; most personnel could figure out the situation themselves anyway.

The six remaining Huskies presented their ID's and packs and went through a quick medical and contagion check before they emerged out onto the public transporter terminal. The place was crowded with personnel who had just come off deployment, security officers checking anyone coming into the base for weapons or bombs, and there were some families waiting and plenty of transports were coming and going. The scene was hectic.

Bill turned back to face the squadron. "Well guys, looks like we're breaking up for now. My doors are open in case you need anything. I guess we might get together sometime during our R&R." Bill glanced at a transport parked near the exit. "I'm heading into town to see the folks. That's my transport, so I'd better get going."

"Yeah, see ya Bill." Perry extended his hand. This triggered a number of farewells and pawshakes, as each squadron member set out for the transport which would take them home.

As Fuzzy shook paws and wings with Terry, the eagle asked "Fuzzy, you staying on the base? I heard you were working on the fighters."

"Was working." Said Fuzzy. "I'm going home, getting wasted, pigging out, running in the park and going wild at a bar tonight." The Husky smiled. "Didn't do enough of that before the war started. Now, I'm not wasting the opportunity, in case I never get it again."

Terry smiled back. "All right, well take care of yourself. Don't get arrested."

"You're such a killjoy." Fuzzy chuckled. "I'll probably have to get around to the fighters sometime, but for now I'm hitting the town."

Terry nodded. "Well, see you then. Have fun." He gave Fuzzy a high-five and ran to one of the nearer transporters, managing to halt the pilot just as he was pulling away.

Fuzzy knew that his transporter would be leaving soon, but there was one thing he needed to tend to.

He found them near the entrance, the familiar, old, bespectacled canine, his equally old, dented airmobile, his wife who was hunched over a walking stick and the uniformed son who had just returned from duty. One person is missing there.

He walked up to the Sweet family, all engaged in a hug as if they might be separated the next day. It's entirely possible… Thought Fuzzy.

"Mr Sweet, Mrs Sweet!" Fuzzy raised a paw as he ran down the sidewalk, swerving around other families and military personnel.

"Fuzzy!" The two older canines shook paws and hugged him as he got within arms distance. Fuzzy could see that Mr and Mrs Sweet had been crying.

"How're you holding up?" Asked Mr. Sweet.

"All right." Fuzzy replied. "I was going to ask you the same."

"It hurts." Said Mr. Sweet, a lot more subdued than his usual self. "We saw the mass funeral over the holovision. We're going to have a small service for Leena at the end of the week. Harry tells me you'll be joining us."

Harry Sweet was the eldest- and now only- child of the Sweet family. He served with Fang Squadron. He and Fuzzy had spent a lot of time sharing memories of Leena on the trip back.

"That's right." Fuzzy replied. "I'm also heading over to Robin's tomorrow."

Three funerals in one week is terrible, unless you're an undertaker. Fuzzy thought. Hey, I'm a fighter pilot. We're basically in the same line of work. I send 'em over, the undertaker packs'em up!

"Well, I just needed to see how you folks were doing." He said. "This must be a hard loss."

"You're so sweet Fuzzy. We're just fine, thank you." Said Mrs. Sweet, who was wiping a tear from her eye. "It will take a while to get over, yes, but I think we can manage."

Fuzzy nodded. "Well that's my transport." He said, pointing at a large vehicle maneuvering into a parking bay. "If you need anything, just call."

They said their goodbyes and soon Fuzzy was on the transport, reclining in relative comfort, heading home. He cared about the Sweets since he was closer to them than he ever was to his own family. His father was a successful businessman and his mother was a traveling fashion designer. He was sent off to boarding school, then did a short stint as a courier before joining the CDF academy. He rarely saw his parents, and only during special occasions did he ever see them both in one place at the same time. They didn't want him around. They'd always send him away, so as to be no inconvenience to them. When they both died during the war with Andross, Fuzzy had barely shed a tear.

However, whilst his parents had never cared, the Sweets happily took him in whenever he came over, and always invited him even to what were traditionally family occasions. Now Fuzzy, who had inherited his parents' wealth, was always willing to repay their hospitality.

Those guys are the family I never had. A family's always there for each other, so now I gotta be there for them.

"Come on, Keeler. Move, or we won't make shelter by dawn."

"Wait up, willya?" Keeler said, panting. The last few days spent lying down had done little for his fitness. The golden Labrador was clutching a recently healed chest, now burning with fatigue. "We've been going at this speed for hours. Don't you ever get tired?"

"Your fitness, not mine, is the problem here." Growled Blaze.

Keeler groaned in exhaustion. "Why can't we just put up a shelter here? I'm beat!"

"Stop complaining!" Snapped Blaze. "We are in a valley. This is a large valley with no trees. What does that do for our surprise attack on the base if we put up camp here?"

"Wow." Muttered Keeler. "Longest phrase you've ever said."

Blaze growled something incoherent and pressed on even faster, making Keeler have to jog even more to catch up.

"I've got an idea. You can… carry my rifle and my… survival supplies too! That should… bring our speeds to even!" Keeler said, panting heavily now.

"Oh good! Then your speed will increase to the point that you're almost good enough to be a fighter pilot!" Blaze replied sarcastically.

Something about that last phrase seemed odd. Certainly it was regular banter, but you never got regular banter from Blaze. Matt grinned. "Blaze, correct me if I'm mistaken… But was that… humor you attempted there?"

"Shut up and keep moving, furball."