1745 Hours, 12/12/2434
CSC Flight Academy, Clarke Hall, Room F-45
A gentle double note tone sounded through the speakers. One of the room's occupants snorted as the sound woke him up. Fox heard it again and growled. His eyes closed tighter as he buried his head in his pillow, trying in vain to drown the tone as it sounded a third time. He growled again with annoyance, as if the persistent visitor on the other side of the door could hear him.
The tormentor would give up and go away, Fox imagined. He waited for the visitor to try the doorbell again. Maybe then he would leave.
The noise did not go off a fourth time. Rather, it was replaced with the pounding of a curled fist. This new source of pain for Fox sounded off three loud bangs. As the third concussion ended, he could barely hear a familiar voice.
"McCloud, Grey! Are you in there?" sounded the deep, booming voice.
A flurry of thoughts went through Fox's head in the next few moments. He wanted to shout; tell the intruder to go away and let him sleep. But, Fox opened up to the possibility that it was a ranking officer. If that was true, then this agitator had keys to the locked door. Slowly realizing this, Fox forced his eyes open as he lazily looked around his quarters.
The room and both of its occupants were far from presentable. The floor was littered with discarded articles of uniforms as well as several empty bottles of liquor, whose wrappers seemed to represent every brewery in Lylat. The smell of the empty bottles lingered and wafted in the tiny room, producing a ghastly odor similar to that of the local Officer's Club.
The mess of bottles had been brought on by the events of the previous day, when the Midshipmen had learned their exam grades. Fox's grade was a 3.2; he had passed. It wasn't the best grade in his class, but that didn't matter to Fox; the future suddenly looked very bright. In celebration, Fox had managed to scrounge up some spirits-courtesy of the Academy's black market and he and Bill had spent the night toasting to their first year. The consequences for drinking alcohol on the grounds were extremely severe, but that night, Fox hadn't cared. It didn't matter, as long as they weren't caught.
Foxhad managed to find his bed despite his drunken state, but Bill had fallen short and was huddled under a bed sheet next to the wall. He still lay there, snoring so loud Fox wondered how the individual outside didn't hear him.
He staggered out of bed and stood on a loose, wobbling footing. He was dizzy and his already pounding headache grew worse with every waking moment. When the visitor knocked three more times, each bang felt like a full loaded bomber was crashing on the crown of Fox's head. He held his head in his hand as he staggered towards the door.
The voice came again. It sounded so loudly that it snapped Fox out of his waking stupor. What the voice said helped wake him up as well.
"McCloud! Grey! I know you're in there! Get off your lazy asses! Second class Midshipmen don't get to sleep any longer!"
Fox felt something cold go through him as he realized with horror that the voice belonged to Chief Ambrose. There was no reason to speculate what would happen if he came in.
Fox looked at Bill, still asleep despite the noise. He must have kept going after Fox had passed out.
"Bill! Bill!" he said with a hoarse whisper, hoping that the Chief couldn't hear him, "wake up!"
The husky's eyes opened only to slits, but still revealing red, bloodshot eyes. "What the hell…" he said, his voice a mix of annoyance and mock curiosity, laced with the groaning sigh of a hangover.
"The Chief's here!" replied Fox, desperate. The mention of the Chief seemed to have the same effect on Bill as it had on Fox and the husky shot up from the floor, struggling to untangle from the bed sheets.
"Wake up! NOW!"
"Sir, I am awake sir! replied with Fox with surprising crispness in his voice. Bill replied as well.
"What the hell were you two up to in there? Who sleeps in the afternoon," the Chief paused, contemplating the possible answers to his challenge, "Open the door."
"Oh shit! He's comin' in! We'd better get rid of these bottles!" said Fox.
Bill silently agreed and took to gathering some of the bottles while Fox helped. Soon, the empty bottles and cans had been scooped up.
"Where the hell are we gonna hide these damn things?" said Bill.
"Midshipman! Open the door this instant, that's an order!"
Fox looked around desperately for a suitable place to put the evidence of their premature celebration. The closets? No, the Chief would check those. There wasn't enough space under the bed. All seemed lost until Fox felt a cold breeze run across his face and he looked to the single open window…The window!
"Bill, drop em' outside and be quick!" said Fox, as if commanding his friend in battle.
"Got it; bombs away!" said Bill as the collection of empty bottles fell from his arms and tumbled through the air before hitting the ground six stories down.
Fox rushed to the door and activated the controls and the door opened with a hiss. He and Bill managed a salute as the Chief, in full dress uniform, entered. The hare's eyes scanned the room and then looked at Bill and then Fox in disgust.
He huffed. "In my entire military career I have never seen more shitty quarters" he started, exchanging glares at Fox and Bill. Fox stared straight ahead. Although it didn't show, he was panicking. He and Bill had never managed to run a tight ship as far as their quarters were concerned, but the room's current state was beyond even them. Fox was sure the Chief saw this; the Chief saw everything.
The hare continued to lecture Fox and Bill before glancing around the room once more. Fox dreaded his next words, knowing they would be the ones that would send him home a failure.
Why had he been so stupid?
"You two better jump in your dress uniforms," said the Chief, "the celebrations start at twenty hundred hours sharp." The hare said nothing more as he turned on his heel and left. The door hissed closed as he started down the hall.
Fox and Bill looked at each other, stupefied. He hadn't missed the evidence; he had let them go, but why? Possession of any form of booze was a serious offense, one that could lead to court martial and expulsion. Perhaps he just felt sorry for the cadets, but that didn't fly either. Fox didn't care. One way or the other, he was off the hook. His expression became one of elation and he chuckled triumphantly as he sat back on his bed.
"Not a way to spend a hang over, eh buddy?" said Fox. Bill chuckled back as he went about collecting the scattered articles of clothing and making his bed.
"I don't remember a thing," continued Fox, "do you?"
"No," replied Bill with another chuckle, "but from the looks of things, it was a great little celebration."
Fox smiled as he started to put on his dress uniform. Bill looked at him, a bit surprised.
"You're actually going? I don't think access to more booze is a good idea Fox."
"Aw," replied Fox, dismissing Bill's concerns, "I'll watch it this time."
A few hours after his close shave with the Chief, Fox, tidied up and in his dress uniform, was on his way the common area of Malcolm Hall, where the year end celebrations would be taking place. Bill had decided to come as well.
Fox thought the matter. He and Bill had debated the idea of going. They had already dodged one bullet with Ambrose and going to the party with a recovering hangover hardly seemed a wise idea. Not going however, might prove to be too suspicious. Besides, he remembered, Fara would be waiting for him and passing her up seemed even worse then court martial.
It was a cold night. Snow slowly floated from above, adding to the mask of white draped over the grounds. The sky was filled with massive gray clouds, hiding away the twinkle of stars and the warm glow of the nearby planets. A few hanging lights and lit windows aside, the night was pitch black.
As the Midshipmen continued down the concrete path, Malcolm Hall suddenly stood out from the darkness. This building was among the tallest on the Academy grounds, climbing fifty stories into the sky. Every window of every floor was aglow with the warm light from within, illuminating the space around the massive building.
Fox and Bill exchanged no words as they approached the entrance, which was flanked by two Petty Officers. Bill began to look from side to side, like a cornered animal looking for an escape.
"What's wrong?" said Fox.
"Are you sure this was a good idea? Those noncoms are gonna see I'm hung over!" replied Bill.
"Relax old buddy," Fox said with a smile, "Hell, I can't even tell your drunk."
Bill chuckled. "Sounds like something I'd say," he replied, still laughing.
"Just act normal. They're not gonna ask you to pee in a cup."
"Right," said Bill, straightening up, "I'll go first. They'll give you less trouble."
Bill approached the door. The two Petty Officers stopped him and looked him over. Bill showed one of them his ID and they motioned him forward. Fox felt the minute feeling of anxiety in his stomach evaporate. He stepped forward and displayed his identification card. Confident there would be no hold up, Fox continued on.
One of the Petty Officers, an avian, stuck his arm in front of the doorway, blocking Fox. He stopped, surprised, and gave the noncom a quizzical look.
"James McCloud Jr?" the guard challenged.
"That's Fox McCloud to you buddy and can I hear a 'sir' somewhere in that sentence?"
"Easy there kid," replied the Petty Officer, not even bothering to look at Fox. The avian groaned softly and passed the card to the other guard. He scrutinized it and handed the card back to the avian who gave it back to Fox. Fox caught a glimpse of the other Petty Officer making a call on his radio.
The avian snapped Fox's focus on him. "Go on in first year, sir," he said, sharing a chuckle with the other guard. Fox collected his card and glared before he entered the building.
As soon as he had removed his overcoat and hung it in the closet, Fox found himself under a different kind of assault-Fara rushed forward and embraced him in a crushing hug. Fox hugged back. Fara pressed herself against him and looked into his eyes. They smiled at each other before their lips locked in a brief, sweet greeting kiss.
"Well, it's nice to see you too Fara," said Fox with something of a startled expression; Fara had a way of sneaking up on him like that.
"Congratulations Foxey!" she exclaimed, kissing him again. She tucked herself next to his side and looked up at him.
"Congratulations to you too Fara," replied Fox with a warm smile.He glanced around and made sure no onehad seenthem- not out of embarresment, but from fear of being spotted by an officer. In the military, such displays of personal affection between up-and-coming young officers was not looked kindly upon, even though it was a well known fact that such relationships sprang up.
Fox thought the whole idea was perhaps a little too strict; what could the CDF expect when they packed a bunch of hormone-charged teenagers in the general vicinity of the opposite sex? Fox's affair with Fara was not secret, at least not to the other cadets and the two had kept the whole thing quiet. Both knew the risks, but accepted them.
Somehow, in an institution where a kiss meant a reprimand and sex meant court-martial, Fox and Fara went on; that was the extent of their relationship.
"Where were you yesterday?" cooed Fara.
He looked at her with a sly grin. "Having a little private celebration…"
"Oh. Who was invited?" she asked, a bit annoyed. Fox smiled at Fara's unjustified attitude.
"Oh, no one really. Just Bill and me with some ale, whisky, a little scotch…"
Fara broke away from him. "Fox!" replied Fara, "What kind of empty-headed fur brain are you?" She approached him and whispered in his ear, "There'd better be some left. You do owe me from the last time, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. Don't worry about it sweetie." He whispered back.
Fara beamed and relinquished her hold on Fox's arm. From here on, the two would have to avoid acting like a couple, lest an officer see them. So they walked beside each other towards the common area of Malcolm Hall.
The sultry strains and sharp staccato notes of a group of the Academy Band wafted through the air. A few cadets danced to the upbeat jazz while others sat at tables and conversed over beverages. Everyone was in their dress uniform, now decorated with the twin horizontal golden stripes on their shirt collars, indicating their new rank of second year Midshipmen.
"Shall we?" said Fox. Fara grinned and the two started towards the door. Just as they reached the door, it swung open. The startled pair jumped back a few feet. Fox's face became a scowl and he glared up at the feline. This expression, along with the accompanying angry words he had planned, melted off Fox's face when he actually saw the tall grey cat.
The feline was dressed in a black uniform with gold insignia. The patch on her right shoulder, the edge of a planet circled by a ring and three gold swords identified her as a member of the Lylat Intelligence Office. More crucial to Fox though, was the single golden bar of a Lieutenant. He and Fara promptly snapped to attention.
"Midshipman James McCloud?" inquired the feline, her voice firm and commanding.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Fox. He was a bit annoyed that she addressed him with his birth name; not even his instructors called him James. Fox didn't stress the point, knowing that correcting a superior officer on such matters was not wise.
"Your presence is requested," said the feline without pause.
"By whom ma'am?"
"That information is unimportant Midshipman. Now come, you're already late." With that, the LIO agent turned on her heels and started walking away. Fox looked at Fara, who appeared suddenly worried.
"Oh don't worry," said Fox, "this won't take too long."
"You don't know that Fox," replied Fara, her voice conveying her concern in a whisper quiet voice, "She's a LIO agent and you know what's said about them."
Fox knew. The Lylat Intelligence Office was well known. LIO was the congregation of the CDF, the government, and the public. The organization managed to inflict awe with its abilities combined with a constant, almost gnawing fear in the CDF. Their people were everywhere, their presence felt in every branch, command, and platoon. LIO was unmistakable, yet always bound in secrecy. It was these two characteristics that had elevated LIO to such stature, even among young Officer Cadets like Fox and Fara.
The feline agent stopped for a moment. "Midshipman McCloud, I did not request your cooperation, I ordered it. Is that clear?" She didn't turn to see Fox but waited to hear the sound of his footsteps.
"Yes ma'am!" replied Fox. He looked at Fara again with an expression that spoke 'sorry, gotta go'. Fara managed a shaky smile of concern. She had known Fox since they were both kits and she had seen that expression so many times before. Fox turned to follow the Lieutenant.
He felt uncomfortable walking beside the Lieutenant, so he stayed a few steps behind her. The agent led him outside, where a black M113 HMRV, known unanimously to all CDF personnel as a Lynx, hovered next to the curb. Fox got in, followed by the Lieutenant. The drive was short, less then a terrameter over to Academy Command and Control HQ, the large building in the center of the academy grounds which, accordingly, served as a headquarters and high level retreat. VIPs, Admirals, Generals, and even heads of state used this building. Three rings of high fences topped with barbed wire surrounded the grounds. Even though he could not see the machine guns, security systems, and hidden marksmen, Fox knew that armed marines patrolled this building and getting in was impossible without the right credentials. In fact, he'd never seen the inside of 'The Castle'.
Once he and the Lieutenant had arrived, they exited the Lynx. There, both were made to show their identification to a pair of armed marines. This reminded Fox os the exchange he'd had with the two Petty Officers back at Malcolm Hall and he remembered how one had called him in on his radio. Could this LIO stunt have something to do with those Petty Officers? Then he remembered how Chief Ambrose had acted, how he had not turned Fox and Bill in. Could that have something to do with this too?
They entered the building and the feline escorted Fox to a lift, where the pair descended several levels. The Lieutenant was so quiet that Fox might as well have been alone in the lift. When the coach stopped, the feline led him into the compound. She punched a code into a holographic display and submitted a retinal scan before a door snapped open. Fox had not even seen the frame of the door; it just seemed to melt from the wall.
The Lieutenant motioned for him to go inside. "Wait here room until they call you in. It shouldn't be too long." With those parting words, she disappeared behind the 'invisible' door, leaving Fox to himself in the plush furnished room.
Fox sat on one of the thickly padded couches and tried to collect his thoughts. But, like the Lieutenant had promised, the wait was not long as a door opened on the far side of the room. A faceless male voice beckoned him by his birth name. He rose and entered the debriefing room. The door snapped shut and he heard the mechanical clicks and whirs as the locks engaged.
It took a few moments for his sharp vulpine eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, he studied his new surroundings. The debriefing room was larger then he had imagined. It extended back several meters. A crescent-shaped desk sat in the center where six shrouded figures sat. Three wore white Space Command Admiral's uniforms and the others wore green Terrestrial Command uniforms. In the far end of the room, Fox could barely see four more figures in black uniforms; more LIO spooks. He felt a cold pit in his stomach; a kind of anxiety that was new and alien to him
The officers were in some kind of discussion and it seemed rather heated. Although he could not see any of their faces, Fox could distinguish each one by their voices. They spoke in hushed tones, yet continued speaking as if they didn't know Fox was there.
"May I remind you Admiral, that this entire idea is hardly a wise one? How do we know he won't slip up?" said a male voice from one of the green uniformed CTC generals.
"It is standard CDF policy to deliver this information," replied an Admiral.
"Even at the undeniable and reckless security risk that comes with it?" snapped a female voice.
"Come now General. He wasn't a LIO agent and it wasn't a top secret mission."
"Yes, but what the mission found is certainly potentially dangerous intel and is already classified at delta level and it doesn't seem advisable to give it to someone who just passed his first year at the academy," retorted the first General.
"He wasn't even CDF personnel. That is why we hired him!" added the female voice.
Fox snapped to attention and the visible officers acknowledged his presence. "Midshipman McCloud, reporting as ordered sirs," he said. That felt awkward, he had been shuffled here, not ordered.
"Sit down son," replied one of the voices. That seemed odd to Fox. He had been debriefed before, especially after his first unexpected combat in Meteo Field. He was always told to stand at ease, not sit. His anxiety grew. What was this all about? He could imagine nothing that would require what seemed like a debriefing.
"Midshipman, this is a secure meeting and you should treat any and all information presented to you as top secret," said another voice, "You do know that sharing this information with anyone will lead to a court-martial?"
"Yes sir, I do," replied Fox stiffly. Top secret? His mind begged for answers, explanations.
One of the figures leaned forward, revealing him to be a hound dog. He was a Space Command Admiral. "Let us cut to the chase then", he said. He paused and clasped his hands together. The Admiral looked at the smooth surface of the desk and took a long, deep breath. He looked back up at Fox with sad, almost sympathetic eyes before he leaned back into his chair, his face disappearing into the shadows.
"Fox," said the Admiral. This caught Fox off guard; no superior officer had ever failed to call him by his birth name. The Admiral continued. "Your father, James McCloud senior, was shot down and captured while on a reconnaissance mission over the planet Venom. He and his comrade attempted escape but he was killed. The hare escaped however and brought us this information." The Admiral spoke with linguistic haste, as if the message of James' death was but a side note to something larger. More likely, the Admiral just wished to get the difficult task of telling Fox out of the way.
Words could not begin to describe what Fox felt right then in that dark room. The words 'James' and 'killed' echoed in his mind like a broken data crystal, its audio looping. His father wasn't just dead, someone had murdered him. The emotions of shock and horror gave way to new emotions, ones he had only felt at his mother's death. Anger of a caliber that was new to him and a thirst for revenge that suddenly consumed him both suddenly seemed to drown out everything else. He felt his eyes welt up with tears and he had to contort his face visibly to keep them from spilling down his furry cheeks. He was determined to control himself; the brass still had more to say. He had questions. His father was a mercenary, why was the CDF telling him of his father's fate?
"Now", said the female voice, one of the CTC generals, "as much sorrow as the CDF feels for your father's death, you must understand the nature of this intelligence. Your father and his two comrades were sent to investigate Venom. The death of James McCloud shows that there is an enemy presence on the planet."
"We are sorry to tell you of his death Midshipman," said one of the Admirals.
"Sirs?" asked Fox, fighting to keep his anger out of his voice, "May I ask why my father's death is classified intelligence?"
"Have you been listening Midshipman?" snapped a second male General.
"General Enders…" growled an Admiral, he turned to Fox, "Son, we cannot let word get out of your father's death. We don't want this enemy to know we know anything about his presence and his ability to strike. We want to keep the upper hand on him."
"Who is him sir?" This question was a bold one for Fox. Such questions were usually not to be asked by cadets, especially about potential top secret material. He didn't care; he wanted answers. The Admiral's angry features could be barely seen in the dark; he had said too much and identified an individual.
The six looked at each other and talked amongst themselves. Fox also thought he saw the LIO agents talking. Finally, the Admiral looked to Fox. "I'm sorry son, that information is classified."
Fox huffed quietly to himself. His father was dead, killed while under the employment of the CDF and he couldn't even know who he had been fighting? His anger resurfaced, this time towards the debriefing board.
"What about Peppy?" inquired Fox, his military courtesy lost in his anger. He wanted to scowl at the officers, to discourage them from another blunt of 'that's classified'.
"Your father's comrade made it back to Corneria. He has been in a military hospital since his arrival, recovering from his injuries," replied the female voice.
"You will be permitted to visit him if you so desire."
"Sirs, if I may inquire something?" said Fox. The six groaned quietly. Obviously they had expected this to be a quick affair.
"I'm afraid not Midshipman," replied the voice of General Enders, "you are dismissed."
Fox rose from his seat and just stood there for a moment, fighting the urge to scowl at the six generals and admirals that sat before him. The whole affair had lasted only a few minutes. His father's death wasn't important to them. As far as Fox was concerned, these brass saw his father as a resource; expendable. They were more worried about covering their tails and keeping their secrets safe then telling Fox about why his father died. The words of the female CTC General rang in his head: "He wasn't even CDF personnel. That is why we hired him!"
Finally, he came to attention and waited for acknowledgement before he turned crisply and left the debriefing committee.
He left the waiting room, where the feline LIO Lieutenant was waiting for him. She whisked him back towards the elevator without a word. She showed him back to the Lynx, where she motioned him into the waiting vehicle. He refused, preferring to walk back to his barracks. There, he would ask for leave to go to Corneria City, get on his hover-cycle and go see Peppy. If the CDF wasn't going to give him answers, Peppy would.
He had time to think as he walked slowly back to the barracks. The snow was falling all around him. He watched one of the singular flakes tumble earthward and suddenly imagined his father's Arwing. He didn't want to believe it as the image of the burning, twisted blue and white fighter fell from the sky. He suddenly thought of his father. His hero since childhood, his support, his caretaker since his mother's death, his father… gone…dead.
He didn't want to believe it. He wanted to say his father couldn't be dead. He was James McCloud, the best pilot who ever lived in his eyes. He was too good, the enemy couldn't touch him.Since childhood Foxhad always thought his father was invincible.
And yet, for all that skill, all of the legend, all of the ability,he was dead.
Fox's knees gave wayas he passed beneatha tree. Heslumped forwardand pounded the ground with his hand. His cap fell from his head into the snow. Warm tears rolled down his face, coming faster and faster ashe struggled to contain his sobbing.The tears fell from his muzzle, melting some of the thick winter snow. He clasped his eyes tightly shut in an effort to stop the flow of anguish. But he only found this allowed his mind to think of his father's Arwing, burning and tumbling as it fell.
So he found himself in emotional toil between the physical and the mental as he continued to knell under the tree. His sobbing grew louder and he suddenly became painfully aware that he was alone.
This was startiling to him, for suddenly for the first time in his life, Fox felt completely alone. His father was gone and he was now condemned to feel the pain of his death without anyone to help him; no one to consol him, no shoulder beside him to cry upon.
The anger began to grow within him again. Someone was going to pay for this and Fox didn't care how he was going to do that. He would have his vengeance, one way or another. But first he would need answers, which the CDF had denied him. Fox resolved to go see Peppy in Corneria City.
Why had the CDF turned its back on him- denied him the answers that would bring him peace?
Fox rose from the ground, the tears still falling from his eyes but slowly beginning to subside. He found himself filled with a new resolve, to avenge his father. It was a moment of transition. As he rose from the ground he was, inpart,leaving his sorrow behind, but he was only replacing it with blood lust.