Part III - Danger Danger
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The room was uncannily quiet.
General Pepper had a face worn down with age; his cheeks sagged, his eyes drooped, but the skin still clung to the same angular bone structure, which let him maintain that tough look which he was famous for. He leered around the room, looking like an entirely different man around his committee than he did to his fonder familiars.
"I see we have a new arrival," He spoke, nodding to the stunning young woman that stole all the focus away from suits and ties. "Your name, Miss?"
Commanding Officer Brinkley sat beside her, and opened his mouth instead. "This is my assistant, General. Lucifia Ferie."
"Ah. Er," The General cleared his throat, obviously dismayed that one of his leading officers had decided to bring a cadet into the meeting. "Well, how do you do. Now then… You all know why we're here…"
A broad squirrely sort of man took a stand, his hair a garbled mess, his tail wild and tie hastily fastened. "E-excuse me, sir. I got here as fast as I could once I heard the news. Um, seeking clarification: O'Donnell and Powalski are being held hostage after previously assumed dead?"
"Correct, Mr. Edgar." Pepper unfolded the article in front of him; it was a large planetary map that scaled the length of the committee table itself. "We've had countless squadrons turning over the galaxy for the past year and a half. If StarWolf managed to slip by under our noses for this long, it doesn't necessarily mean they're the only ones. Now, my main concern is - yes, Brinkley?"
"Sir, with all due respect…" The raccoon began, and already Pepper felt something unwanted coming. "Stragglers left over from the Venomese army surely cannot pose too significant of a threat to overcome if we don't even have evidence of suspicious activity."
"I'm not saying Venom is building armies behind our back." Pepper retaliated. "But Andross, though a fool, was brilliant, and I wouldn't be surprised if some of his ideas outlived him. If even a ragtag band of loyalists got together a twisted weapon of mass destruction, well, that's one twisted weapon too many."
"Andross has left endless chaos in his wake." A bat, on Pepper's opposite end, muttered. "We must put forth more effort into the reconstruction rather than worrying about a problem that may not even exist."
"Well, actually, I agree, General. Aquas currently has 239 endangered species, an 85 increase since before the Venomese attack," A middle-aged horse woman pointed out. "And the attempts to habilitate Titania are running behind schedule."
Pepper sighed; in about three seconds he would be expected to have answers to everything, or he would fail to live up to his name. One… Two…
"Pardon me." Brinkley put in. "May I send my assistant to the coffee machine? Can't tell you how dreadfully exhausted I am after that mission… Oh, she'll need your signature if she wants re-entry, General."
"Very well." He growled, as she ambled up and handed him paper and a pen. He hastily scribbled down his name and sent her off with it.
"Now, back to the matter at hand, if you will, Brinkley…"
The golden spaniel gently shut the door behind her, heavy voices still seeping through the walls. She doubted very much that Pepper would've granted her leave unless he didn't particularly want her around in the first place.
Once she was away, a presence only her own, an unusual sensation swept over her. She wasn't used to people watching her when she wasn't commanding attention. Some of the men at the table, less interested in the subject than they ought have been, let their eyes drift over hair, eyes, lips, chest… It was odd that this didn't offend her. She pretended not to notice their eyes, but she could feel their presence oh-too-well, after years of precision training on Venom…
Her footsteps fell like snow. Quickly and quietly she tread past doors upon doors. No one stood in her path as she strode over the tape that shut off one set of stairs from the rest of the tangled complex…
She trotted down the steps, took a turn.
You could hardly tell it was a military complex. Untidy tile floors and scaly ceilings littered the halls. Once, a much larger (much more financed) structure had stood here, with stainless steel walls and iron doors that seemed to bleed with heavily-clad security guards. But that was before the great battle. Andross had an elite fleet tear this place down at the very first outbreak of war…
Musty ceiling lights showed a burly feathered figure up ahead, staring her down as she approached. She got closer; the lights now exposed red and purple plumage, revealing him to be a parrot.
"May I help you, ma'am?" He asked, in a surprisingly gentle voice. He too took one brief, fleeting glance over her golden body as she stepped forward.
"Yes, I'd like to question the fugitives, if you please."
He didn't need to ask which ones. "Hey, you're the one who brought them in, aren't ya?" He realized suddenly, the attitude written on his face now much different. "You and that Brinkley fellow… Well, still, I'm sorry, I'll need to see a written grant. We're keeping security tight, you know."
"Ah yes, of course, here, the General gave me this…"
She handed him the paper, and he raised a brow, noticing Pepper's authentic signature at the bottom. He started scanning the rest of the document, oblivious to the woman fiddling with a silver gauntlet on her wrist…
"Hmm… This doesn't seem to bear any mention to the prisoners at all-"
Something flashed, blinding him for a moment. "Christ! What was that?"
When his eyes started working again, he saw not a beautiful golden spaniel, but a lizard woman, pale and gray, with dark black bags under her eyes, which were the most vacant things he'd ever seen…
His eyes fell on the gun. Her spiny tail swished behind her.
"W-who are you!" He demanded, mouth left agape.
"Amuro Styx. Venomese Commissioner. Charmed, sir…"
The laser was on silent fire, and the only sound was a heavy thud as he collapsed to the floor.
Amuro smirked darkly, refusing to look at the body. She did what she did out of loyalty, not bloodlust. She adjusted the laser again and fired - the body was gone, and so was the ash before it even hit the ground.
She pressed some buttons on her gauntlet and changed forms again; for the first time, an avian. Attempting what she believed to be a 'manly swagger', she - or he - navigated her way through the maze of tunnels and halls, guided by the intensity of the stench of mold and dirt. A few others, presumably fellow sentinels, nodded to "him" as he passed by, oblivious to what he really was.
Creeping into her destination, tentatively; fingering her laser to confirm it was still there... she took a look around and stopped, spellbound.
The ceiling was high and, she was guessing, thick. It looked more like a ballroom lined with rooms than prison.
Her jaw hung slightly. She'd been in jail multiple times before, all kinds of jails. Venomese jails, visiting Cornerian prisoners, sometimes to talk when there was none else, sometimes to exploit her authority - by whatever means she felt like, it mattered not to the overseers. She'd also been in Cornerian jails "for the average punk" - never to actually serve time, she was always bailed or busted. But this was definitely no place for the average punk.
Large metal cells, who knew of what composition, lined in a row. But unlike most jail cells, in lieu of steel bars, they had what seemed to be a semitransparent blue wall - an A Class force field, she recognized at once.
She strolled past the rows of cells, keeping her glances strictly brief. These were reserved for only the biggest of baddies; the most despicable, hostile scoundrels in Lylat. Anyway, brief glances were relatively simple to do, as many of these criminals clearly hadn't bathed - or changed clothes - in years, and more still were battered to the point of disfiguration, with entire tufts of fur gone and chunks of ears missing…
Her eyes did catch on one man, whose time in jail hadn't done much to his sublimity. From what she could tell, he was a leopard, lean and muscular, and with both ears intact, with what seemed considerable patience; he was lounging next to a very small window, also from the looks of things force fielded. Possibly a newcomer, she concluded, or someone very good at staying sane.
She wondered why none of them paid her any mind. Surely somebody in the house of the damned was curious enough to just spare a passing glance, or were they all such hardened criminals that they didn't care anymore?
The next cell over, however - she recognized them at once. Wolf was pacing their floor space impatiently, apparently raging about something - though she heard nothing, likening the scene to a muted TV show, rediscovered in the living room some time later. Leon sat, completely indifferent, like many of the criminals she'd seen. But he was the only one so far with a smile, albeit a creepy, smug one.
Peering over her shoulder, she finally noticed the guards - everywhere. She remembered seeing them before but the thought had never really registered.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. A brown doxen, about a head shorter than the parrot she was mimicking, stood poised near Wolf and Leon's cell, eyes narrow and untrusting.
"If I 'member correctly, you're supposesta be guardin' the doh," He drawled, arms crossed. "No, wait - yer on hallway patrol, ain'tcha? Sorry pal, hey, this ain't the place fer ya-"
"Oh, Reidson," At this voice, the doxen shot into a salute, straightening up his posture.
"SIR!"
Amuro's feathered eyes seemed to smirk without her mouth ever moving.
"Reidson, allow me to talk with this fellow here," the source was a brawny brown badger in an intricate uniform. Scarcely had this word been spoken had the doxen taken off.
The badger watched his departure, chuckling.
"So Corneria has these kinds of idiots guarding dangerous fugitives," Amuro mused with a smirk.
"Couldn't agree more. Amuro Styx, I am Deputy Wilkins, but you can call me Panther Caroso - most people do. It is, shall we say, an honor to finally meet you in person."
--
Leon sat in quiet silence, watching Wolf build himself into a rage. The truth of their current position had finally hit him - full front.
"We got so damn careless, THAT'S the problem," he snapped in his companion's face, as if he had said something highly disputable to start with. Leon was making him possibly even more agitated by just sitting and smiling coyly, tail coiling and uncoiling lazily behind him, because he could just couldn't get it to lay still…
"I do seem to recall your voicing an urgent need for an alcoholic splurge." The reptile mentioned, bravely given Wolf's state of mind.
At this, Wolf poised to strike, but aimed elsewhere. He heaved a tight fist into the wall, and the utter rage swallowed the pain. Soon he had drawn blood from his own hide, ripping and clawing whatever happened to be satisfying - namely, his own person. Leon stopped smiling, watching Wolf tear himself up. This was far less amusing than his childish tantrums. Ordinarily, the thought of somebody ripping themselves apart would've been quite a good watch, but this was no anybody.
"Wolf…" he coaxed gently, rising from his seat.
"Get away! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Wolf screamed, but otherwise made no signs of threat. In an instant, Leon stood directly in front of him, apparently having disregarded these orders, before relaxing against his companion chest-to-chest, fingers aptly stroking the fur at the base of his neck. Wolf shivered all over and clenched his eyes shut. It was like being embraced by a phantom; you could sense somebody there, but didn't dare look.
"Still afraid to lay a finger on me, I see…" The velvety voice, though whispered, seemed far too loud when uttered directly into his ears.
Wolf wasn't about to deny that Leon's favorite pastimes scared him - hell, mortified him sometimes, even. Peoples' faces, frozen into wide gapes of terror, eyes wide open in a state of eternal shock, all staring down at him like gruesome trophies… He didn't like being touched by those same fingers which had committed such vile things, as if he too would one day end up barred down to a table, with Leon, unfalteringly, disfiguring him, ripping him apart…
The whisper came again. "Don't be afraid of me, Wolf…"
Panic having subsided enough to let him think, Wolf collected his wits and managed to duck out of the reptile's hold, backing up into the wall. Leon, though suddenly supported by nothing, reconstructed his poise just as suddenly as Wolf had acted.
"It is pitiful to fear me, Wolf." Leon acknowledged, conceding to his own corner of the cell. "I am all that you have left."
Wolf felt those eyes on him, but refused to return the gaze.
"Why don't I just die now, then?"
If this remark affected Leon on any emotional level, it didn't seem to show. Slowly, he returned to his seat, and continued to sit, still as a manikin, save for the tip of his tail, which continued that hypnotic, yoyo-esque motion.
"You don't mean that," He commented, with a straight face.
"Damn right I do." Wolf snapped viciously, baring his teeth, outer lips quivering with rage. "I'd rather rot alone in this cell than try and keep myself sane around you!"
"You're a chronic liar," Leon stated, unabashedly. "And a chronic alcoholic. Sometimes I wonder how often you speak what's really on your mind."
The lupine's panting only quickened. Leon had to fight back a smile; he loved toying with him, pushing his buttons. "You wanna know what's on my mind? About how I spent a year and half running from Fox and his damned cult, got captured by a couple police and locked in a hellhouse where a sadist is trying to seduce me?"
With that, one final grunt of anger, and he leaned forward with his face to the wall, panting heavily.
Leon did not expect an answer, but he knew Wolf would be listening -
"You allow yourself to be consumed by your emotions. Had you listened, I would have told you - we have not lost."
As if on cue, one of the walls suddenly ceased and desisted, giving them instead one wide-open view of the hallway, where a badger and a parrot stood watching them calmly.
"Come on," The lizard continued, as Wolf simply stood, wide-eyed and in shock. "The party's just begun!"
--
General Pepper came running as soon as the alarm went off, several panicked members of his panel following suite. A woman's voice, choppy and wavering, came on over the intercom. "Security breach, repeat, maximum level security breach! All armed personnel to the imprisonment chambers immediately!"
Brinkley's awkward waddle hastened into an equally awkward run, trying to keep up with Pepper and his faster subordinates. Hopefully, all had gone according to plan…
Throwing caution to the wind Pepper and his business suit-clad shadows arrived in the dungeon. Bodies - they were everywhere. His heart felt heavy in his throat.
"No…" His jaw dropped. The teleporter, ordinarily used to send backup troops or supplies as they were needed, was open and previously active; a badger lay in front of it, hand with a gun to the floor, bleeding wound in the side of his head.
"…Officer Wilkins…" Pepper bowed his head in reverence, forcing himself to swallow. He grimly surveyed the surrounding premises. The other prisoners, funnily, were oblivious to the entire ordeal. They sat same as ever, stone silent on their perches. The force field gave off the illusion of an ordinary wall from within the cell, almost the same as a one-way window; it also didn't allow sound to pass through. They hadn't the slightest notion about what had just happened in the previous five minutes.
"…General! These soldiers have just been stunned!" Mr. Edgars exclaimed. He had his ear to a fallen doxen's chest. "This one, at least. But I think they're all alive!"
"That's something. Definitely something." Pepper dragged his eyes off of Wilkins' body once more. The shock was still agonizing. How could such a disaster have come and gone with so little struggle, and right under his nose…
He spoke into a radio. "Send the medical corps at once! We have stunned, possibly wounded soldiers. An officer dead. Pepper, out." He cared not to specify their location, he trusted they'd heard the news already.
It made no sense… The teleportation module had an authorization code that he shared with Officer Wilkins. But he refused to believe a close friend could help two dangerous fugitives escape - and then commit suicide for it. It sounded like the thing that could happen to a corruptible man with morally flawed - not jaunty, firm Herald Wilkins.
"Sir… I believe it's safe to say that you have a lot of fires to put out," The bat remarked.
Pepper kept his back to the speaker, voice cross.
"I'm not worried about that right now."
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A/N: 800 kudo points to anyone who knows what kind of lizard Amuro is… It's all in the name, so, with a tad of unscrambling, not too hard if you know your scalies ;D
Reviews would make me very happy?