Marisa woke up, looking over her shoulder and yawning. She and James had dozed off completely clothed, which had amused her greatly, and from the clock on the wall they'd napped a few hours. Probably would have slept all night, but James was up, sitting in the desk chair next to the terminal. She could hear voices come from it faintly, he had dialed down the volume as low as he could and still be able to hear it clearly.

"James?"

He looked up. "Sorry."

"It's ok. What's going on?"

"Battle feed. I found the radio channels the pilots and commanders are broadcasting on."

"There's a battle right now?" She sat up, and he nodded wordlessly. "Where at?"

He looked at the map on the wall. "What's been termed Area Six. Venom Air Defense Zone."

"Oh, my god."

"Hey. Relax, it'll be…" He stopped short, and dialed up the volume. "Listen."

Static cut the air, and she heard the chatter of pilots, background noise, muddled, then a single clear voice, young, angry, commanding. She caught names, here and there, and she recognized them, looking back at James after several long minutes. "Is that…?"

He nodded again. "That's my son."

"And you could use that terminal to broadcast couldn't you? To talk to him?"

He was silent for a moment, then said, "Probably. Yes."

"Then… Why don't you? He's doing all this because he thinks you're dead, James. It's… cold. I guess."

"Don't you think I want to?" He stared at her. "Don't you think its killing me? We were on our own a long time, and I do love him. He's a good kid. But for now he's got to think I'm dead."

She pushed off the bed and walked over to him, brushing her fingers over his scalp and ears. He sighed and leaned into her, arms curling over hips and forehead leaning against her stomach. "You've got a plan, obviously." She finally said.

"Not so much. It's just, the way I figure it… my son and his friends are the only way that nutcase we call a friend is going to go down." Feeling her stop, he huffed. "I know. I know. It's mean. But you've got to agree with me that Andross is slipping his last gears."

She didn't reply, running her fingers through his thick fur again, thinking about that. Thinking about how brutally he had told her she was a clone. Yes, he was changing. And not for the better. She sighed, shaking off and staying where she was, eventually just wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him as they listened to the radio.

Fox leaned on the wall, drinking a soda as he watched one of the docking robots repair the arwings. They were coming up on Venom, and fast. Peppy was trying to figure out their best approach, and Falco was coordinating with him, talking to the Cornerian brass and trying to figure out what was going to be done. Apparently Andross had a lot of hardware on the surface, and it was Peppy's opinion that they wouldn't be enough. As Peppy was usually right, Fox hadn't argued.

They'd already been through one fairly brutal battle. Area Six hadn't proven an easy take. The Great Fox was invaluable all over again, dealing out destruction and wiping out many of the large cruisers Venom had had left. It was the thing waiting at the end that had surprised him: a massive disk on edge. The Gorgon, the laser that had single-handedly wiped out the majority of Lylat's forces. He'd taken it out, the shield had been easy to take down and the thing had had little actual armor.

So why the hell was he so unsettled about this?

He rubbed the back of his neck, huffing. The battle had gone well, even with Andross' nutcase voice harassing him from a distance. That hadn't really bothered him. It was more like he had felt like he was being watched the entire time. But not in the sense that someone was wanting to do him harm.

Bah.

He tossed the soda can down a garbage chute and walked up to the bridge, leaning on the doorframe and looking in. "So. What's the plan?"

Well, here's what we've got." Peppy brought up on holographic display. "Several complexes, stoking out from one main one… but it looks like the main one has a back entrance here." He tapped one of the dots. "So we're going in from the back, and the high brass are going to order a bombardment for most of the main complex. Bunker busters."

"Works for me. What exactly is this back entrance?"

"Looks like a massive air vent. We'll be able to fly right in." Falco said. "We're guessing from inside we'll be able to destroy his generators."

"Guesswork. We all know I love guesswork." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "This a milk run?"

"No, not hardly. Our friends Star Wolf seems to be running a high-speed patrol of the area. Unless we're really damn fast, they'll see us and muck up the works." Falco shrugged. "We can take them."

"I'm inclined to agree. Any other lurking surprises?"

"They haven't found Andross' command cruiser." Peppy remarked, looking through printouts. "It wasn't one of the ones wrecked at Area Six. It's MIA. The boys back home are guessing it's behind Venom, hiding in the interference."

"Hm. Well, that isn't of much consequence, we can always go and look for it later. When are we deploying?"

"Ok, this is how it works." Wolf said, pressing the code to close his arwing, adjusting his headset mic. "They're coming in, hot and fast, and we're to intercept and shoot them down. Fox is our primary directive here, but the rest of the team is good kills as well. Their cruiser is in orbit. Guys, if we lose this, we've lost the war."

"Boy, you're a ray of fuckin' sunshine." Pigma said, launching and falling into formation, not surprised when Wolf didn't answer, merely throwing the throttle to full.

Wolf knew he was most likely going to die. If he got shot down on Venom and lived through it, he had about ten minutes before he asphyxiated: the air here was thin and toxic. And his confidence had drained. They'd already heard about Bolse being pummeled. Lylat was coming for them full force.

Let them come, he decided. Get it over with.

James sighed, crossing his arms and standing, staring at the terminal and listening with his eyes closed. He could see it play out in his head as it happened: the annihilation of Bolse station, the starting of the bombing runs against Venom. And woven through it all, the voice of his son, in constant contact with the Lylat forces as he started his attack run. James frowned, switching frequencies, and wasn't surprised. Star Wolf was also on the way, and he heard Andross' voice.

"Just take them out. If we expect to even have a chance to survive this, they've got to die, especially the McCloud boy. In the event you four can't stop them, I do have a contingency plan. If I'm going down, so are they."

James slapped the consol, rubbing his eyes, and walked over to the dresser, taking his old uniform out of the bottom drawer. Thank god Andross had let him keep it… he stripped out of the Venomian uniform gladly, and was half-dressed when there was a knock at his door.

He opened it, and smiled at Marisa, who looked worried—she'd obviously already been informed about Lylat's push on Venom. "That's part of the uniform I first met you in." She said immediately, stepping into the room. "James. What's going on?"

He said nothing, finishing getting dressed except the jacket, putting the holster on and checking the ammo on his guns. Only when that was done did he look at her, a hard look on his face. "He's going to kill my son, Marisa."

She looked back at him, trying to find words and unable to. She couldn't argue what he said.

"I can't let him do that."

"I know."

He shrugged into the jacket, then drew her into a kiss, which she gladly returned, standing together for a few seconds, knowing her future was totally unknown from here. James obviously had some sort of plan, she'd just have to trust him. "Am I coming with you for this?" She finally asked, tucking her face into his neck.

"If you don't mind."

"What are you going to do?"

"Hell, I'm making this up as I go. I do have one thought, though…"

The command crew, helpless, had gathered on their deck, talking in low voices, watching as Venom was blitzed by Lylat, and listening as their emperor quite obviously lost what was left of his sanity. They knew it was only a matter of time before they were found, and killed, and no one liked the idea much. But what was the alternative?

They were so wrapped up in their conversations that they didn't notice the elevator door slide open until they heard the very distinctive noise of two hammers being knocked back.

"Hi there."

"You have got to be shitting me." One of the commanders said in a flat, blank voice, staring at James, who stood their calmly, his guns leveled at them gang-style. Marisa peeked out from behind him, looking worried, but very obviously not a hostage.

"Relax. I'd just love to know where Pigma Dengar's arwing is stored. Then I'm borrowing a shuttle."

"Will we be getting it back?"

"Nope. But you won't be getting me back either." There was a long silence as they looked at each other, then came to the silent "fuck it" agreement, one printing the information out and passing it to him. He holstered his guns and took it, nodding his thanks. "If I were you guys, I'd eavesdrop on the radio channels and send up a white flag as soon as you think Andross is gone."

"Betray our emperor?" One sputtered.

"In case you haven't noticed, he's not much more then an insane scientist now. A very dangerous insane scientist. I got nothing against you guys. Everyone makes a bad choice now and then. Correct it." And that said, James went back into the elevator, Marisa still close behind him.

"That was mean." Marisa remarked, but she had to grin. "Effective, though."

"That's the point. They see the guns with this uniform, and they back away and give me room." James looked at the printout, which had coordinates and a small map. "Good, this is a distance from the battlefield." There was a pause as he got out of the elevator, leading her down the hallway to the main hanger.

"Oh my god…" Marisa stared. The last time she had been here, it had been wall to wall fighters. They were all gone. A small collection of shuttles sat off to one side, and James crossed the emptiness easily, studying the selection. "They're all still new." She remarked, standing beside him.

"We want this one." He said, picking one at the rear and going up the lowered ramp. "In case you're wondering why, it's marked as medical. Even if Lylat sees us, they won't dare shoot at us. Geneva convention bars the killing of medics. Worst they'll do is hail us."

"Oh…" She came up the ramp and sat uneasily as he prepared the shuttle for launch, closing the doors and bringing the engines up, everything automatic, he had done things like this thousands of times. "You should teach me to fly someday."

He grinned at her, and it was joyous. Vixy, as much as he loved her, had never shown the remotest interest in learning to fly. "I'll be glad to teach you." He buckled in, she followed his example, and he punched the shuttle forward, out of the docking bay in seconds and hitting the atmosphere. "Here's what's going to happen. Arwings are one-seaters. You'll have to wait with the shuttle while I do this."

"But…"

"No other way. I can't take this into a combat zone easily, and as said, I can't take you in the arwing." He glanced at her, reaching over and catching her hand. She returned the hold, lacing her fingers with his possessively. "Don't worry. It'll be ok."

"Don't you dare die on me."

"I won't."

Wolf wasn't surprised when Fox, teamed up with Falco, sent him down. He had been the last one in the air. Andrew and Pigma had been easy targets for the now battle-hard StarFox team, and while Leon had fought tooth and nail it had only been a matter of time as they were now outnumbered. Wolf had wanted to tell Fox that his father was alive, but in the end just accepted it, letting the Wolfen pummel. He was pretty sure that Fox had noticed that he'd quit trying.

He also wasn't surprised when his eject malfunctioned. What DID surprise him is that he survived the fact, and stayed conscious in spite of the pain, watching through blurry eyes as the lead arwing broke from the group and went after Andross. The remaining three arwings circled a few times, then broke off into orbit.

He sighed, letting his head fall back and trying to remember why he had thought this whole mess had been a good idea. He was so absorbed that he almost didn't catch another engine approaching.

The arwing that was circling in was the old model. He lifted his head in surprise, it was going from wreck to wreck, as if figuring out what had happened. That was all Wolf needed to know, and even as he struggled to remain awake he yanked the flaregun off his jacket and fired the one shot, letting his arm fall as his eyes closed. What the hell, maybe it was worth it to keep trying…

James had seen the wrecks immediately, and had circled in slow, monitoring what was going on inside the compound over the radio. Some sort of fight between Andross and his son, he hadn't a clue what was going on but it didn't sound over yet, so he figured he had a second to check the wrecks. He had been almost sure they were all dead when the arc of light had cut the air, the firework bursting in neon flickers.

He immediately boosted over to where the flare had come from, rolling the arwing and slowing down. The cockpit had been broken out, bad eject obviously, the parachute caught on the broken glass. He traced the path of the light that still glimmered, and saw the body. "Oh god, Wolf." He whispered, then shook off. "I will be back. Just hold on." Then he threw the throttle on, boosting straight up and u-turning into the exhaust pipe.

Fox, meanwhile, was convinced Falco had slipped him acid. He almost understood the whole idea of a telekinetic amplifier, which sort of explained why he was dealing with massive hands and a head, not war machines. Either way, this battle was demented, and he was relieved when it was very suddenly over, until it became apparent that Andross had triggered some sort of self-destruct for the base. He slammed on the air-brakes and u-turned, fleeing back the way he came, and finding himself lost in the maze of corridors he'd come through. There had only been one path with various forks when he'd come through, he'd figured they all led here, but he knew they didn't all lead out, and with the fire rushing up behind him he didn't have time to make decisions, let alone the wrong one…

"Don't ever give up, son."

Fox snapped his head around, gaping as the older arwing came in ahead of him. "Father?" He blurted, mindless, knowing it was impossible, but there was no denying it, he saw the heads-up display.

"Follow me." James brought up the tunnels on his VR, leading them out, watching the other arwing, already damaged from the fight, struggling to keep up. "Come on kid." He said under his breath, cutting left, then right, the newer model mimicking him automatically.

"… Is it really you?"

He didn't bother answering, just reached up one-handed and slid the sunglasses down so Fox could see his eyes briefly. No words needed there.

Then daylight showed above them, a straightaway, and James opened the throttle, bursting out ahead of his son and dropping to the deck, hiding in the smoke and disappearing from radar. "You've grown so strong, Fox." He finally whispered into the radio, watching the other arwing break free of the fire, and start circling as James shut the radio off. "Go, son." He said, and watched as the newer arwing did, breaking for the atmosphere, bearing tidings of victory to his copilots. "See you later, maybe." He turned the arwing and opened the throttle again, heading back to the coordinates where Marisa waited.

"Something wrong, Fox?"

Fox was twisted in his seat, staring back at Venom, then settled back down, looking around again. "No… no, nothing's wrong…" He finally said, smiling as Bill fell in with him. Victory. Man, it felt good. But… hadn't he just seen his father? He shook off, sighing and crossing his arms, letting autopilot take over. At least… there was some closure in it, he decided. At least he knew his father was proud. Wherever he was.

Marisa watched as the arwing swung in, landing, James leaping out seconds later. "I was listening on the radio." She said, meeting him. "So it's over."

He held her briefly, then sprinted up the ramp of the shuttle, going to huge cabinets and popping them open. "Oh thank god." He whispered, looking at the full stock. "Prep that bed to receive someone ok?"

"James, what…?"

"We're picking up an injured." He replied, closing the shuttle up and lifting, abandoning the arwing. No sorrow there, it hadn't been his. "Wolf O'Donnel."

"He's still alive?"

"He fired a flaregun when he saw me incoming. So I'm hoping to god he still is." He hesitated. "He's a good kid, Marisa."

"I know." She steadied herself and stepped over to him, setting a hand on his shoulder as the medical transport screamed through the atmosphere. "… what if he's…"

"Then we bury him."

The rest of the flight was silent. No one hailed them, any Lylatian forces nearby didn't notice them as they weren't painted as hostile. James breathed a sigh of relief at that as he brought the shuttle in lower, touching down about ten feet away from the wreck. "Air mask." He said briefly, putting one on himself. She followed suit, watching as he grabbed one of the medial boxes and a hand-held scanner, sprinting down the ramp. She had totally missed this relationship, she mused, jogging after him. James hadn't said much, but it was clear he was taking O'Donnel under his wing.

James skidded to a halt next to Wolf's unconscious form, dropping to one knee and activating the scanner. The first scan gave the good news: no broken neck, back, or incredibly severe head injuries. The second scan gave all the bad. "Oh, man." He moaned out, watching the tallies come back.

"How bad is it?" Marisa asked, biting her lip. The only obvious place Wolf was hurt was one of his legs, which appeared to be bleeding profusely.

"Not good. His left femur's been snapped in six places, two compounds. That's the blood." He gestured, and she swallowed hard. "Most of his ribs up one side of his chest are broken, collarbone is fractured on that side as well. Internal bruising, and some bleeding. Severe concussion, no brain damage estimated." He looked at her helplessly. "Marisa… I've had two field medic classes and that's it."

"So we do our best and get him to a doctor." She replied, taking the box from him and kneeling beside him. "What's the first move?"

"Morphine."

Wolf startled when the needle entered his leg, opening his eyes and not surprised when a hand promptly pushed on the shoulder that didn't hurt. "James?" He heard himself ask groggily.

"That's me. Sit up and I kick your ass."

"That bad huh?"

"Jigsaws come to mind. Just try to relax, ok? I'm loading you up with morphine, then we're going to try to split your leg and move you."

"I don't like the try part." He replied vaguely, letting his head fall back again.

"Well, I'm not a medic. But at least you're lucid. How do you feel?"

"Shitty. Cold."

"That's shock setting in most likely." James admitted, tossing the second empty syringe aside and running back to the shuttle, retrieving a hover stretcher and a splint kit. He was halfway back when another engine reached him, and he stopped, watching as a small surface fighter approached. He closed the distance to Marisa and Wolf, setting down the supplies and pulling his guns, crouching and waiting.

The fighter landed, the cockpit opening and the pilot leaping free, wings opening. Both James and Marisa gaped as Anna, Andross' bodyguard, glided over easily, wings beating as she landed. "McCloud. Marisa." She said, voice short, abrupt.

"What are you doing here?" Marisa asked.

"… I was asked to give you this." She took a manila envelope out from inside her jacket, holding out to James. "It was his last request. He told me to tell you… 'take care of her.'"

James holstered the guns, taking the envelope, unable to disguise his confusion. "Is he…?"

"No. He's dying. He had me do this."

"You could come with us, Anna." Marisa finally said. "I'm not sure where we're going… but I'm sure it'd be nicer then Venom."

She shook her head. "No. I should be with him. He's all I've ever had." Leaving it at that, she turned and returned to the plane, taking off and leaving them.

"Well, that was… unexpected." James finally said, folding the envelope and tucking it inside his jacket, kneeling beside Wolf again, who blinked at him groggily. "Still with us?"

"Mm-hmm. Much better now that the morphine has kicked in."

"Try to stay awake for a while. This may be awkward…" He opened the split kit and glanced at Marisa. "Are you ok to help me with this?"

She was rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand, and stopped when he addressed her, nodding. "I think so."

"Ok, listen carefully… we screw this up, we'll make it a lot worse…"

Ten minutes later they were guiding the hover stretcher to the shuttle, Wolf having drifted into unconsciousness. His leg was splinted, and the bleeding mostly contained; but James knew he couldn't do much else for the younger man.

"Where are we going?" Marisa asked as James moved Wolf easily to the medical bed in the shuttle, buckling the straps down over his chest. Wolf woke back up long enough to protest the restraint weakly once, James ignored him: if he had to start high-speed maneuvers, the last thing he needed was Wolf falling off the bed as he barrel-rolled.

"Only one place I can think of to go. I'm dead, so that pretty much negates Lylat. There would be a lot of awkward explaining… not to mention, Wolf being held as a war criminal." He sighed, putting the stretcher back on its rack and moving to the shuttle's cockpit. "Papetoon."

"Papetoon?" She frowned at him.

"It's a colonization planet. Farming mostly. Has a planet-wide population about the same as Corneria City." He chuckled. "I'm from there, originally. Haven't been there in over two decades."

"You did mention you were from there…" She said thoughtfully, thinking back. "You didn't say much about it though."

"I was a pirate." He replied absently, buckling into the pilot's chair and starting the shuttle up. "Your basic rebel-with-a-cause, but without-a-clue." He smiled at her when she burst into giggles. "I've got to get us out of here, want to open this for us?" He handed her the manila envelope and lifted the shuttle, blasting through the atmosphere and keying up the hyperspace controls. "What is it?" He asked, waiting for the calculations to run, glancing at her.

"James…" She had pulled the contents out, which appeared to be maybe ten sheets of paper. "These are… bank accounts."

"What?" He took one of the sheets, and gaped. "Oh my god. These are the account numbers and keys for his out-system accounts. Marisa, this is his war chest!"

"His what?"

"How he funded his armada. He didn't do it all for free, he had to pay his soldiers, buy the craft… Wolf told me he was nearly broke, couldn't run the armada another month… but…" He took the other sheets, which she passed over easily, and shuffled through them. "Holy fuck." He let his hands fall, staring at her. "We just inheirited 14.3 million credits."

"We could live off that for years…"

"Babe, on Papetoon, we just covered ourselves and our next three generations."

"Is that a marriage proposal?"

He was silent, then leveled a finger at her. "That's not exactly how I meant it, but we'll talk about that after we get Wolf to a doctor. Ok?"

She nodded, and the hyperspace engines kicked in.

A side note…

Four hours after Andross' defeat, Lylatian groundforces hit the dirt on Venom and started going through what remained of his ground facilities. They had been informed by a command cruiser that had run up a white flag that there was still personnel alive on the surface, so they decided to investigate. They found many scientists and other non-combatants, and one other person of note.

A marine squad, going through a half-destroyed building, found a smoke filled room with a huge sparking machine in the center of it. They circled it uneasily, guns brought to bear, and came across the shock of their lives.

Andross' body was sprawled across the stone floor, and a young girl was knelt at his side, one of his obviously cold hands clasped between her hands. A pair of white wings were partly open off her back, and long dark hair hung down, covering her face. The marines approached slowly, and one finally knelt on the other side of Andross' body warily, his squadmates covering him automatically.

"Miss?"

She looked up slowly, looking at him with red, tear-swept eyes.

"Miss, are you all right?"

She nodded wearily, releasing Andross' hand and standing, ignoring the guns that tracked her movements as she closed her wings. "Yes. Yes, I'm all right."

"Are you part of the Venomian forces?" The marine also stood.

"… not anymore." She rubbed at her eyes, finally looking at the rest of the marine squad. "I'm not armed. And the one man I would have fought for is dead at my feet. I won't hurt you."

The guns lowered slightly, the marines glancing at each other.

"I have no home. Can I go to yours?"

Ten minutes later a marine squad left the building, guns over their shoulders, escorting a young woman to a shuttle. They didn't bother asking questions, and she was glad, collapsing on a bunk on the shuttle and sleeping. The marines didn't wake her.

"That's Papetoon?" Marisa stood, looking out the shuttle's windshield to look at the planet.

"Yeah, it's not much. Farming planet, pretty backwater. But its home." James flipped switches, preparing for atmospheric descent, and sighed. He wasn't looking forward to part of this, but he didn't know where else to go. "Computer: access Papetoon phone directory. I need the number of one Stephan Luke McCloud, MD, retired."

Accessing...

"Any relation?" Marisa spared James a glance, but James only shook his head.

Numbers found. One business, one home.

"Call the home one." James sighed, lining the shuttle up for a descent corridor absently. The phone rang several times, then a voice answered, tired, half-awake.

"Doctor McCloud speaking. I assume this is medical as it's three in the morning."

"Yeah. It is. Listen, uh, dad..."

"... James?"

"Yeah. Listen, I have an injured man on board and I'm coming in hot. Do you still have the room set up at the ranch?"

"... Yes, I do. How injured?"

"Left femur is broken in six places. Several broken ribs, fractured collar bone. Head trauma. Coughing up some blood. It probably didn't help that I was forced to move him." James punched the shuttle forward, burning through the corridor, used to it. "I don't know where else to take him. Will you help me?"

"With the understanding that we have a very long talk afterwards, yes. I'll wake your mother, I'll need her help."

"Thanks dad." He signed off, and saw Marisa looking at him. "Yes, my parents are alive. Last time I saw them was at my marriage. I paid for their flight tickets to come to Corneria for it."

"… well this might be awkward, being I do look like your wife."

"You're probably right, but I'll already be updating them on the last many years, adding another few months' worth of story won't be that hard."

They finished the burn, and James took the shuttle lower, watching his coordinates absently, smiling when his current location lined up with his target location. He circled, looking out the viewports, and saw flares burning on the ground two hundred feet below him. He took the hint, touching down easily between the flares, shutting the shuttle down and opening the ramp. "Hey." He said, going to the open door.

His father elbowed by him, kneeling by the bunk and starting his own scanner. "What happened to this kid?"

"Eject for his plane malfunctioned. Seems he was sent out the hard way, but luckily for him he was wearing crash gear." James replied, not surprised.

"So you took the helmet off."

"I'd already scanned him, so I knew his back and neck were fine. I took it off when I moved him to the shuttle."

"Good boy. Still have the hover stretcher?"

Five minutes later James and Marisa were following Stephan and his wife inside the huge sprawling ranch house, easily moving through the wide hallways and turning into a room which had swinging doors. They stepped in, and Marisa gaped around at what appeared to be an emergency room.

"Ranchers get hurt a lot, and my dad's a very good surgeon. He found it to be a good idea to have something like this nearby." James said softly to her, watching Wolf get moved to an emergency table, not surprised when an older medical AI fired up and hovered over.

"Out! Both of you out! Let us do what we do best!" His mother said, shooing them, pausing in the doorway. "… It's good to see you're all right, James."

"The news of my death was falsely and widely spread." He replied sourly.

She turned to go back into the medical room, and stopped, looking over her shoulder. "We may be on the fringe, son, but we're not stupid. This kid is in a Venomian uniform. Don't think we don't watch the news."

"… Um…"

"You can tell us later."

"Thanks mom."

She only shook her head, the doors swinging closed behind her.

"… Well, I can say that's one hell of a story." Stephan looked at James over his coffee mug, then his eyes traced over to Marisa, who was drinking her own mug of coffee. "So what now?"

"Depends, am I forgiven?" James asked, leaning back in his chair and sighing.

"You fuckin' left. We saw you once after that. And you want to know if you're forgiven?"

"Well, yeah."

"Hah, you haven't changed at all. You're over forty years old, and you're still acting like you're eighteen." Stephan snickered.

"Did you expect anything else out of me?" James wanted to know, grinning sourly.

"Yes. You're forgiven. But if you ever take off on us again, I'm hunting you down myself."

"… thanks, dad." He smiled, picking up his own mug. "Ok, next thing on the list. Wolf. Is he going to be ok?"

"Only reason he's going to be able to walk is because I had nanotech repair kits on hand. I stopped all the bleeding, including internal, his ribs and collarbone are fine now, but he's going to be sore a long time. His leg, well… he's going be stuck in a leg brace for a long time. And using a cane, at the least."

"I imagine he can live with that."

"So, what now?"

"I'm going to reopen the Hideout."

Stephan stared at him a while, and realized that James wasn't kidding. "Last I saw, that wasn't much of a place to live."

"I'm rich. We'll work with it. Until it's brought up to standard, can we hang out here?"

"You're welcome here." His mother replied, setting a platter of pancakes on the table. "You're welcome here anytime."

James smiled at her. "Good. Thanks mom."

"That does not forgive a boarding-house reach."

He sighed and shook his head, his brain already in motion. 14.3 million credits? Here, they could live off five million credits for the rest of their lives. And he had some pretty creative ideas on what to do with some of the rest.

Author's Note: Don't think it's over yet, folks. There will be an epilogue.