Starfox and it's characters belong to Nintendo.
Fichina
Alse City
Hours Earlier
Though the holidays are a time for family and friends sharing gifts and delights, not all are fortunate to have either.
It was just past midnight where most would be fast asleep in the warm comforts of their homes, leaving the streets empty to nature's mercy. The few that still lurk were either those unfortunate enough to unable to find shelter and are stuck moving blind in the blizzard or those with less pleasant intent.
Farther out of the main city where remains of the previous conflict had yet to be fully repaired, a figure dressed in a heavy white coat struggles to trek through the broken alleys with knee deep snow, bumping and almost tripping over various debris buried beneath. Following behind were more people of similar attire and brandishing blasters.
Having faced the brunt of the Aparoid invasion, Corernia's planetary government had been quickly toppled either as a casualty during the attack on the capital or like Pepper and much of the planetary defense force, aparoidedation. Adding onto the Anglar Wars, deeming the Lylat system unstable was putting it lightly with scarce resources split between territories.
Crime had became a more common occurrence with gangs and even surviving rebels from Oikonny's rebellion taking advantage of the weakened police and military presence across the system.
Fichina was no different.
Almost immediately upon running into what is left of the streets did the mob open fire, lighting up the snowstorm with blue bolts. Said storm provided the lone runner some concealment as none so far have manage to land on their intended target.
After traversing around sizable bumps buried beneath the snow, the figure leaps behind an abandoned vehicle, back against the passenger door, and pulls up their sleeve to reveal a wrist pda wrapped around a gray fight suit.
"Runaeh, time!" The voice, feminine, heavily irritated, and slightly muffled by blaster fire and the blizzard.
On the screen played a live footage of an arctic vixen behind the wheel of an enclosed vehicle, squinting her deeply violet eyes and moving her head about as she seemingly struggles to navigate through the harsh weather. Holding a hand up to the screen, she switches between two and three fingers, indicating time of arrival before settling at the former.
Though the heavy snowfall is visually impairing, the runner could tell their pursuers are drawing very close. Seven in total though lightly armed with mere hold-out grade pistols. Fitting for a small inexperienced gang but no less dangerous. Normally, such small fry would be of little interest, but circumstances did not offer the privilege of being picky.
The bounty hunting business is booming in these times with quarries stacking up by the thousands. Issues come when the more lucrative bounties often involve getting around tightened military presence or worse, competing hunters. Gang wars, bail jumpers, smugglers? Doesn't pay much but they show up on lists like spam mail and authorities are more likely to turn a blind eye for having one less thorn on their side.
Today's job? One such gang had bitten off more than they can chew and thought smuggling stolen military grade weapons off world would be a good idea.
"Kursed, the car is a rental so best you tend to them soon before I arrive." The arctic vixen warned before shutting off comms.
A vixen who out of no where, quickly rose through the ranks in the bounty hunting business. Quick, efficient, and almost otherworldly in both appearance and deadliness. With fur a cobalt blue and a knack of having never lost a bounty, rumors spread that she could always tell where you are and what you are going to do as if she has eyes and ears in every nook and cranny in the entire system.
And what they are going to is what she shall see.
"Where is that bitch!?"
"Oh shit... Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit...!"
"Come out come out where ever you are..."
"Creator, I knew this was a shit idea..."
Paranoia, frustration, regret. Ingredients for blindness of one's bearings.
Sitting with her back against car door, Kursed lets out a long sigh as she reaches into her coat and pulls out a tube-like object. On and off would she flip the top, revealing and concealing a simple red button. The vexation would gradually dissipate for a meager job finally coming to an end and in it's place, a great eagerness to get out this frigid weather and into a long hot shower.
Without even having to look, the vixen could feel the malicious and fearful aura radiating off her pursuers like a foul stench that only grew with closer proximity.
Just as the group were inches away to the dilapidated vehicle did she almost casually taps the button and what bombards her thoughts next were shock and confusion as all around her pursuers did a short click go off, followed by waves of bright blue light shooting out from underneath the snow and swiftly envelopes the gang members.
For a couple seconds did she listen as their vibrating screams echo throughout the desolate town while drawing a pistol of her own before coming out from behind the car just as the pained cries died out to examine her work. Scattered across the street lies the unconscious bodies caught under patches of energy in a grid-like pattern.
Electro-Nets. Easy to set up, easy to hide, and enough jolts to leave a man out cold for hours.
While the cobalt vixen kept her weapon trained on the now incapacitated gang members and picking up any weapons in their possessions, a pair of headlights would shine in her direction followed by the low hum of a hover craft. Parking right up beside her, the familiar white vixen steps out from the other side, offering a friendly wave.
"My my, and not a moment too soon." She offers Kursed a small clap before coming around to pick up the buried net launchers.
In terms of appearance, Runaeh defies what the archetypal bounty hunter would look like, forgoing any form of protective wear and instead, dons a set of white robes with sleeves just long enough to obscure her hands. Being an arctic fox, the cold did not much bother her in the slightest and outside of water resistant footwear, has more freedom of attire.
Once the traps wore off and recovered, the bodies safely secured, and loaded into the trunk and the backseats, the two drives on back to more civilized territory to cash in on their quarry.
"5,000 credits for today's hunt with a 1,500 bonus for taking them alive."
Kursed stares with tired eyes at a datapad in hand as her seat slowly leans back just enough to not flatten their unwilling occupants. Even with the coat on, her body was chilled to the bone from having spent almost hours out there catching their quarry. Only once she was in the comfort of an insulated vehicle with the heater turned up to near maximum did she begin to finally feel her fingers and toes again.
"Enough for fuel and a few weeks of real food, thankfully. It would feel wonderful to cook something nice for once."
The arctic vixen's comment produced an eye-roll from her partner.
"Maybe a few days at best. Still gotta fix up the ship. Only so much patchwork can do."
"Truly a shame... Nutri-bars can only sustain you for so long."
The process was rather simple. Toss a body, alive or dead, to an establishment of authority, provide proper credentials, and you walk out richer with usually no questions asked. Anything outside of regulated jobs is where it becomes more complicated. Fortunately for the two, they will only be dealing with the former.
As they are driving through the blizzard, the jagged remains of the buildings became a less frequent sight. A sign they are almost out out of the desolate part of the city; an even bigger one was the ever growing size of an energy fence in front of them, pulsating and a light green hue.
The only thing separating the civilized part of the city from everything else.
Ensuring that reconstruction would go smoothly without incident, having a notable military presence was deemed necessary with troopers routinely patrolling around a mobile energy fence. Each month, it would extend farther out as more and more of the city became habitable again. During times of maintenance for the climate control center, troopers would occasionally be replaced by automated security whether in the form of drones or robots.
Driving up the checkpoint which is simply a tracked military transport almost five times the size of their own acting as a mobile outpost, the car would come to a halt as a pair of robots armed with rifles made their way up alongside the vehicle followed by a single drone that would immediately shine a reddish beam back and forth across it. No doubt looking for anything of the illegal sorts.
The two robots or androids to be more technical for their vaguely canine-like appearance stood at the both the driver and passenger windows, waiting for the drone to finish searching the car. Kursed had seen similar models being used for both military and civilians alike, though the later tended to be more visually appealing. Unlike the models here that were gender-neutral in body type and their heads being a simple elongated dome to resemble a canine with four beady red eyes, the ones she seen were closer to a Lylatian with heads capable of actual facial expression while also possessing... Desirable features for both sexes.
To no surprise did the drone let off a loud ping, alerting the androids to raise their weapons.
"Blasters detected. Please step out of the vehicle or use of force will be authorized." Their neutral synthetic voices couldn't make their demands any more threatening.
Having the cold rush in and ruin the cozy warmth is a rather fair trade for not getting shot so with the windows rolled down, Kursed holds out a pair of metallic cards which immediately caught the attention of the floating drone. Upon flying over and scanning the cards did the drone speak with a slightly higher pitch, causing the androids to stand down.
"Ahriel, Kursed: Sanctioned bounty hunter. Ahriel, Runaeh: Sanctioned bounty hunter. Please stand by."
A moment would pass before lights within the towering transport would light up bright like a holiday tree and from the side doors out came five canines of varying shapes and sizes, dressed in white skirted Cornerian uniforms with the leading trooper walking up the vehicle with a hand on the hood. Though covered from head to toe, their slouching and hands hovering over their mouths indicate they had were rather rudely awakened and aren't exactly thrilled about it.
With a tablet in hand, the trooper exchanges glances between it, the two vixens, and their bodies in the back before turning and gesturing the others over. One by one, the bodies would be pulled out from the passenger seat and with cuffs slapped on, drags them back into the transport.
Runaeh slides down the window. "Is everything in order, good sir?"
"The bodies will need to be confirmed before payment can be given. Until then, turn in your weapons. They will be returned upon departure from the planet." Grouchy and drowsy would be the best way to describe the hound's tone.
A trooper would come up beside the leading officer with an open case held out. Being in the driver seat, Runaeh watches as her cobalt partner pull everything from knives to grenades in her coat and watches in amusement as she so casually tosses each across her direction, out the window, and towards the poor trooper frantically trying to catch every last one into the case. Nothing better to kick off the drowsiness than catching everything that could kill you.
Neither troopers shared her sentiment.
"If... That is all, you are free to enter the city-" Something catches the trooper's attention as he raises a hand to his ear.
"Sir...! Yes, I have them here right now... Pardon my doubt but is that wise...? Yes sir, I will let them know..."
Though on the outside she seemed disinterested on the soldier's call, his mind was free game and what is inside is eyebrow raising. A call from the general himself wanting to meet with them. How rather curious that the general of Corneria would want business with them, considering their conflicting occupations. This on top of her own reputation; impressive while staying clear of hunts that would incur the wrath of the bloodied army, but far from the best.
Disgruntled, the officer turns back to the arctic vixen, tapping at the tablet for a moment before holding it out to her..
"Change of plans. The general requests that you meet him at these coordinates."
"Oh...? What would the good general wish from us?"
"Don't know and frankly, I could care less. You are to depart to the designated meeting place at the earliest convenience. Do not keep the general waiting."
Allowing no further response, the troopers would make their back inside as a gap in the energy fence would open up. After offering a rather fruitless wave goodbye, Runaeh would drive through the city and straight towards the spaceport where their ship lies anchored.
Stationed in a private parking hanger was a relic of the Lylat Wars, the Saruzin-class assault carrier. At a length of two hundred and fifty meters, barely a third of that of the famous Great Fox, the vessel was used back in it's day to carry and launch the experimental Shogun series battle mechs during the battle against the Cornerian home fleet. Though having proven itself to be a formidable foe for the Cornerians, their spotlight was short lived for various reasons.
Much of it was due to the death of Harrion, admiral of the fleet and pilot of the Shogun Warlord prototype who fell at the hands of the Star Fox team. Any surviving vessels were either abandoned or sold to mercenaries. This one in particular was bought with much of it's weapons and military hardware pulled out and has since became the home of the rising bounty hunters with Runaeh mostly tending to the ship while Kursed goes out to get the mean to pay for it. Tis only fitting for a ship to have a name and theirs were no different, granting the old relic the name, Azure Moon. A shame truly that the vessel's poor state holds it back from living up to it's name.
Leaving their rental ride behind, the pair would make for the ship in relative peace as no other living soul would be up crowding the port with their meanderings. The temperature inside was much more bearable now for Kursed to take off the oversized coats before it becomes a walking oven.
Underneath, the cobalt vixen wore a predominantly grey pilot suit with holsters around her belt and thigh, a blaster resistant vest worn over her chest, and metallic knee high boots complete it all.
Entering into the ship's hanger by through an air bridge, Kursed makes one last glance outside where the blizzard shows no signs of letting up. Brings a momentary wonder as to how Fichinians deal with it all every month.
"Runaeh, how is the Cloudrunner?"
She lightly taps her cheek. "If you are wondering if it can still fly... With today's earnings, you could perhaps make a quick run or two. If you are intending to go into combat with it though..."
The interior of the Azure Moon is like walking out of a clean hotel and into a dirty street; from the clean, almost pearly white Cornerian aesthetics to the dark and grimy brown walls of a Venomian vessel. Unfortunate that cleaning is so far down the list of priorities.
Lights would immediately come on across the hanger upon entering with some either remaining static, flicker, or shut off completely as the two walk down a catwalk extending down and across one end to the other. From high up, they had an almost birds eye view of the entire area below. Six smaller hangers divided by walls that would have each accommodated a single Shogun trooper and a conveyor at the center to carry said mechs to the launch catapult above. While the Saruzin-class was originally meant to carry only Shogun troopers, it didn't require much modification to house fighter craft.
As the vixens strolls through the mostly empty sections, they would come to a halt at the two closest to the exit leading to the rest of the ship. Leaning over the railing, Kursed lets out an almost defeated sigh as she stares down towards the sub-hanger right below them.
The one thing she could truly call her own, a completely unique fighter that has kept her alive throughout much of her early career. The Cloudrunner, aptly named after the pterodactyl-like dinosaurs from the planet, Sauria.
Time had not been kind to the fighter due to it's unique design. Inside and out. Parts were hard to replace with some being outright removed and replaced with those from more easily obtainable sources. Money is tight to the point they couldn't even afford cleaning off all the wear, dirt, and blaster marks all over the the ship. At this point, the ship barely resembles it's majestic namesake.
The cockpit had been pushed farther back on the fuselage and elongated to accommodate two pilots in the off chance that a job ever requires the both of them. Due to the lack of knowledge on it's inner workings, the G-diffuser system had to be removed and kept away from further damage than what the craft has already suffered during it's career while it's laser cannons had to be moved right alongside the fuselage. In it's place though, the forward-swept wings had became hard points for whatever the two could find and make use of after slight modification and reinforcement.
Missile pods, plasma cannons, beam cannons, even more lasers if need be.
With it's main power system pulled out and replaced with something more conventional, the fighter's performance is simply a far cry to what it once was, even with the two constantly fine tuning. It simply isn't the same.
"You are quite fortunate that the ship has not exploded with all of these second-hand parts. In it's current state, you are pushing it to it's limits."
As much as she dreaded upon the fact, Runaeh was right. If she kept pushing the Cloudrunner, it was going to do more than just have engine failure. With another heavy sigh, the cobalt vixen waves her partner good night before turning away and makes straight for her quarters. Further inside did the ship gradually appear more cleaner as the halls begin resemble more of that of a Cornerian vessel with white shiny walls, an almost mirror shine floor and best of all, no broken lights. A small comfort but a comfort nevertheless with something this old and tarnished.
A quick tap on the console beside the door to her room and upon sliding open, is introduced to what was once the captain's quarters. Many areas across the ship either had to be removed, renovated, or combined with others and her's was no exception. The previous captain of the ship was rather egotistical as typical of those higher up within Andross' empire and wanted their quarters as grandiose as Venomiam style can provide. The size of the place was the equivalent of a two story apartment with all manner of designs befitting of royalty across the entire place.
Thankfully, such grandiose pieces were swiftly removed and sold for easy credits before the pair had acquired the ship, leaving the quarters just slightly more appealing albeit bare to the azure vixen. Only renovation that had to be done was shrinking the wall sized windows into something more practical.
Stepping on inside, Kursed began to pull down on the zipper to her flight suit before peeling away the latex sticking to her sweaty fur and tossing it to the side along with any other outer wear, leaving the vixen in just a simple sports bra and shorts. She didn't even need to hold her arm up to get a whiff of the foul odor radiating off of her. Nothing like a long shower to wash away the grime and ease the mind.
Turning the setting to full on hot, she turns to the sink mirror as the water heats up. Not to admire but to judge. Her blue fur ruffled up all over, hair a tangled mess, and eyes hung low with exhaustion.
"What a real mess you've made yourself..."
The cobalt vixen stares silently towards her own reflection as the room begins to fill up with steam, slowly fogging up the mirror. Every time she gazes at herself, Kursed could not help but get sucked into questioning herself.
Why did it all lead to this point? What could have happened if things were different? How much longer must she endure this?
No matter what, it always leads back to him.
Pulling away, she notices splotches of blue dye trailing down on her hand and turns to her arm. Above the elbow were parts of a white tattoo depicting what looked likes chains wrapping around her arms. She wasn't even sure why she gotten such design. Perhaps in her youth during one of her drunken escapades, the azure vixen may have thought it would look cool and intimidating.
Nevertheless, she detests the sight of it. Feels as though she is in a prison and the tattoos eludes to it. Worse yet that it is permanent, seemingly almost natural as any attempt to remove the tattoo has yielded no results. Dye remover, bleach, even shaving the fur off. In the end, the best she could really do is cover it up.
What felt like hours of mental exhaustion, strained muscles, and a hint of numbness from the cold would melt away under the shower head as the vixen stood in pure bliss. Stepping out of the bathroom in a fresh clean shirt, shorts, and a towel loosely draped around her hair, Kursed took in a deep breath of cool sterilized air. It is nothing short of reinvigorating in both mind and body.
Before turning in for the night, the azure vixen sat down at a desk set across from her bed where an assortment of items lay scattered. Maintenance checks, a to-do list for the year, empty cups, and a small general use terminal. As of now, the vixen needed only to divvy up the upcoming credits from the bounty between food and maintenance with just a bit to the side for the more luxurious investments like getting the Azure Moon a paint job to better live up to it's name.
Once everything had been sorted and saved, the cobalt vixen drops into bed with an audible thud. Tired as she was, Kursed couldn't bring herself to sleep and instead, turns towards the window to silently stare out into the sea of stars. There is much to ponder from just having to meet with the general.
What exactly does he want? Did they somehow impeded on their interest? Indirectly involved in the death of some political figure? Or perhaps he has a job that the army could not afford to dirty their hands and risk public outcry.
"Its been a long time, Fox. Far too long... It's good to see you, dear boy. Are you doing well?"
The tod offered him the best smile his drowsy self could bring.
"Had a little of a break in from mother nature. A little wet but no sniffles from me. Otherwise, I'm still holding up."
Watching the old man's joyful grin eases the tension somewhat. Though the fault is entirely his, Peppy's concern for his well being is welcomed despite the vulpine's attempts at pushing them away.
"Good... Very good. You have no idea how much you've had me worrying on top of my duties."
"I know... And I'm sorry, Peppy for all of it. But did you have to call at this hour? It's almost-" He catches a quick glance towards the digital clock sitting beside his bed.
"Four in the morning; noon where you are. Couldn't wait until morning?"
"Unfortunately, I couldn't. Not with what I have to tell you..."
The old hare for a moment turned his gaze to the side, scratching the side of his head as if trying to find the right words. Fox could already feel his stomach churn; his once joyful reunion becomes dreadful anticipation for what was about to be laid before him. It took but a mere moment to deduce his intentions down to two options.
A job for a mercenary or her.
Both news he didn't want to hear in most cases, but here he is choosing between going down one road that leads to hellish torment and another a more mental one.
"Its a job isn't it...?"
"Trust me when I say this, Fox. I know you've heard this old shtick enough times, but the fate of Lylat falls upon this."
"Peppy... I've already hung up my blaster. I'm no longer a mercenary. I don't even have a ship! What can I do that they-" The vulpine's tone quickly shifts upon realizing just who he is referring to.
Venomous and filled with hate, his hands tightly clenches into a fist as images of their smug faces take to the center stage within his thoughts, laughing and taunting as they relish in their hard-earned fame and fortune. How they swooped in and snatched all he had risked life and limb time and time again for the Lylat System's salvation in a blink of an eye. All because of his carelessness into trusting that man.
Fame was never something he desired and yet, seeing those men being paraded as heroes makes his blood boil. Even the mere mention of their names were enough to form abhorrent fantasies that he shamefully found morbidly gratifying.
"That they can't...? What good am I compared to them?"
Peppy shuts his eyes as he lets out a long sigh. It would be a lie if he did not expect this kind of reaction from the vulpine.
"I... I'm sorry for lashing out like that, Peppy. It's just-" The hair holds a open hand.
"No, Fox. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. Should have known better than to remind you of those ill times. Believe me, I had to suck up a lot of my pride just being around them. Corneria was in shambles and I would make a poor display to both it's people and Pepper if I let my grievance with them get in the way of my job. But still..."
The old hare turns his back on the tod for a moment, staring out the window behind him and the lit cities.
"Fox. Busy as I may be, you are my greatest responsibility. James would have skinned me alive if something horrible happened to you. I've watched you grow to be a great man and accomplished much in such a short time. Unlike your old man here, you still have a great many years ahead and I'll be damned if I let you spend it wasting away. Slippy comes to me every day, hoping if I found you and Falco... Well... I know he's not one for expressing feelings but I know he cares. Much as I hate to once again send you into great unknown danger, you are the only one man I can trust. This will be the last, I assure you-"
"Alright alright, I get the point!"
Much as he hates to admit it, Peppy is right. He is pinned between two options: Risk his life to once again pull Corneria out the fire or continue on his current course and further descend into misfortune and self-loathing til the end of his days. One serves to continue haunting him of his failures and the other merely delays and distracts.
Perhaps that is what he really needs for now. Something to keep his minds off her.
"I'm probably going to regret saying this but... Alright, shoot."
Letting out an long sigh, the old hare turns back to him with hands behind his back. An almost spitting image of the good general.
"There is not much I can risk explaining without the risk of unwanted ears, but what I can say is that it will involve returning to the Aparoid homeworld."
"Back there again? Did you find something?"
Already a red flag. Even though the Aparoid threat had been put down, nothing good can come out from dwelling around where the planet once was. Still, curiosity stayed any attempts at rejecting the mission. Genocidal insectoids aside, Star Fox was the first to step into entirely foreign space and the opportunity into the unknown lights a burning craving in his heart for adventure despite the dangers.
"Find something would quite an understatement. The new council has deemed this discovery as an ample opportunity that would aid in the recovery efforts. I wish I could say more but I assure you, everything will be explained in full once you arrive. Should you accept, there is a ship currently stationed on Fichina that is due to depart early afternoon tomorrow. I will make arrangements to have it's crew take you where the meeting will take place."
After a brief moment, an image of a ship of Cornerian design would hover alongside Peppy before moving up front. A cruiser of pre-Lylat Wars design with it's boxy hull and pinched bow; a far cry to the more modern and sleek vessels of today. It is a miracle that such a ship is still in service, let alone functioning.
"So, Fox... Are you up for one last mission?"
Try as he might, the life of a mercenary was never something so easy to leave. Perhaps this is what he needs. Time away from the Lylat System and the emotional baggage it hangs on his shoulders.
"Hoping this will be the last time I say this general but... Lets do it." He offers him a casual salute and in response, receives a shaking head and soft chuckle.
"And Fox... I will say again that it is good to see you again."