Chapter 3: The Papers Won't Know What We Did That Day

1 YEAR AGO, THE APAROID HOMEWORLD -

Acting as the distraction was proving to be much harder than Wolf thought. The tunnels in the Aparoid Homeworld twisted and contorted through the planet's semi-mechanical body and his Wolfen hurtled through them at a breakneck speed. A cluster of bogeys tailed him—uncanny-looking aparoids with three, claw-like limbs that jutted from its circular body. Each appendage reached for him with violent yearning, scraping the empty air just shy of his Wolfen's exhaust. The starfighter's systems screeched in warning, telling him of the unknown flying object at his six o'clock. Wolf did not have even the half-second it took to shut the alarm off; his full attention was directed to making sure he did not meet an untimely death at one of the walls of the labyrinthine nest. He told himself all he needed to do was outlast them. Fox and his crew had vowed to exterminate the queen and with her death, the entire might of her colony would die with her. Instantaneously to boot, if Wolf understood it all correctly Until then, they were the thin line between Star Fox succeeding or getting overwhelmed.

As if on cue, more of the damned bugs began to pull themselves from the metal walls. The way they unfurled slowly from pods lodged into the tunnel walls made Wolf's skin prickle underneath his slate-gray fur. He growled as one thudded onto the nose of his ship, meeting a swift end as he jostled it off. Jiggling the joystick back and forth nearly caused him to crash but he maintained control of the ship.

"Wolf, we need a plan!" Leon shouted over their comms system as the trio of Wolfens fled down the massive passageway.

"We already have a plan!" Wolf snarled. "Just keep going!"

Mentally, he urged Fox to go faster. Their lives were depending upon him.

A hit to Wolf's wing sent him suddenly spiraling. He tried to steady his Wolfen but the tunnel wall was right there. The hull scraped against it with a screech. He feared this was the end. He was going to die here, suffocated in space, his corpse lost in the eerie maze of the Aparoid Homeworld. Wolf cried out in terror, tugging hard on the controls to jerk the ship away from the wall. Through a blessing and a miracle, the ship did as he bid, its body heavily damaged. His engines sputtered, coughing angrily. And then everything shut off, an emergency oxygen mask extended from the dashboard. Wolf took it at once, putting it over his snout.

His systems were down. The Wolfen began to drift down the tunnel, the hailstorm of aparoid fighters soaring by him. A few attached to his plane and he grabbed his blaster with a trembling hand. He thought of General Pepper fused to his own ship and he prayed he was not about to meet the same fate. The aparoids stabbed at his Wolfen's hull, digging into the metal with limbs like needle-sharp drills. One of them broke through the cockpit wall with its arm, the tip searing through Wolf's pants and into his knee. He screamed again, louder this time. A violet pulse ringed around the aparoid's claw, like an evil heartbeat. He fired at it, trying to force it to retreat. The pain as its metal tore through his flesh was unlike anything he had felt—worse even than the day he had lost his eye. Tears stained his cheeks, another cry torn from his muzzle. And then the aparoid was blasted away, fading into charred scrapmetal that drifted rapidly down the tunnel.

Wolf looked up to see Panther's Wolfen next to his. The jaguar gave him a quick nod and a thumbs up. Wolf tried to return the gesture, his hands shaking uncontrollably. As Leon single-handedly fought back the swarm of aparoids, the feline launched a cable that attached to Wolf's ship. Panther gave him another nod then began boosting, pulling the maimed Wolfen along. It was slower than Wolf wanted but there was no other choice. He turned his attention to the blood pouring from his injury, feeling the first signs of dizziness. A medical kit was under his seat and he pulled it out and tried to stop up the flow. But he feared he was too late.

His engines clicked on after he hit the button to start them, leaning back in his seat with a hand on the injury.

"Wolf! Wolf are you all right!?" Leon cried out.

"I'll… I'll be fine…" panted Wolf, becoming more and more lightheaded. Everything around him seemed bright, his vision haloed by a white light that was being eaten away. "Just… just keep…"

"No! Don't you DARE die on us! Wolf!" Leon yelled in the moments before Wolf felt himself slip unconscious.

PRESENT DAY, NECESSITIES DISTRINCT, ZENITH SPACE STATION-

When Wolf and Leon went to the medic bay in the Necessities District, the canine knew that they were in some deep shit. Panther being down meant they were down a gun and that limited what kind of jobs they could take. And after this colossal mess up, they were certainly not going to be getting paid, especially if Cecilia had already given the job to someone else. Wolf miserably rubbed the bridge of his snout. What a mess… what a goddamn mess…

The med bay seemed uneventful that day, the smell of sterilizing cleaning products burning Wolf's nose. They checked in at the front desk and the receptionist took a minute to determine where their injured wingmate was. The duo was given instructions on where to find Panther and they made their way there in tense silence. They had placed Panther in a private room, his leg already tended to and bandaged. He lay in a bed with his injured leg exposed from under the sheets, propped up on a pillow. The jaguar's eyes lit up when he saw his comrades and he gave a lazy stretch, laying back on a mountain of pillows.

"Tell me you caught him," Panther said.

"I wish I could," Wolf replied bitterly.

"Heh. What great luck. Did I hit my head when I fell or was that really Fox McCloud coming down the hall?" Panther asked.

"I wish I could say you hit your head too," Wolf scowled. "Willy stole McCloud's ship."

"That seems familiar," Panther chuckled. "I blacked out after they got me here."

"Well, Panther. Give us the prognosis," Leon said with his hands on his thin hips. "When will you be battle-ready?"

"Ha! A month at best, the doctor said," Panther replied with a grim smile. "Apparently the laser severed some important nerves. I may not be able to feel much in my leg after this."

"That ain't a bad thing," Wolf shrugged.

"Then why don't you hand me your blaster and you can have the bed next to me?" Panther asked cheekily.

"Can't be hurtin' that bad if you're giving me lip."

"If someone doesn't sass you, you'll go crazy. And Leon sure as hell won't do it so I guess I better be the one to bite the bullet. Or laser, in this case."

"Shut up. We need you on your feet. Can't they just… I dunno. Give you some pain killers?"

"Wolf, I can't walk."

"… And?"

"Wolf…" Panther laughed then gave a grimace, slapping a hand onto his upper thigh with a small hiss. "So how did Ceci take the news?"

"Poorly," Leon understated.

"We're off the job. Gonna have to find something else if we wanna be able to, y'know… live," Wolf sighed.

"There will be something out there," Panther reassured him. "Go to one of the bars. They always got those digi-boards in there. People put in requests all the time."

"With two guns?" Wolf looked doubtful.

"Could always go to the Grade 0 requests," the feline grinned. "Y'know. Helping people unclog their toilets, escorting grandmas to their doctor appointments, serving lunch in the soup kitchen… good citizen kind of stuff."

Leon made a face at that but Wolf heard him sigh reluctantly. The canine was not convinced however. He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly giving a huff.

"I'll figure something out. I always do," Wolf said firmly.

"Could always ask McCloud if he's free. Isn't his team disbanded?" Panther asked and Wolf wanted to gag on the spot.

"You really did hit your head, didn't you?" Wolf scowled. "Ugh. Get some rest, Panther. We need you back on your feet ASAP."

"Tell me how it goes," Panther's grin cracked further across his features. "I'm sure he won't say no."

Both Leon and Wolf left the med bay not long after. Wolf's chest felt heavy and a bad aftertaste loitered in his mouth. Today was a shitty day and that required some form of pick-me-up. He side-eyed Leon, knowing better than to let him know his intentions. Instead, Wolf decided to go the angle that Panther had suggested. Digi-boards were posted in merc hubs—they were the newest fad. People from all over posted jobs to complete on the boards, their difficulty ranked in a system from Grade 0 as the lowest to Grade 5 as the highest. Mercenary groups with accounts could sign up and claim the jobs. And hopefully, the reward if they were successful.

"Imma do what Panther said and head back to the Rusty Nickle," Wolf said, catching the lizard's uncertain look.

"To drink?" accused Leon.

"No. Gonna look at the digi-board and see what's been posted," Wolf replied.

Skeptically, Leon rubbed his chin but gave a nod. "Very well. I am going to see what I can find out in the Entertainment District. That place has lots of… Shadowy alleys. And someone will know something about Wily Willy."

"You wanna try going after him again?" Wolf quirked a brow.

"A sign of good faith to Cecilia," Leon said. "A single word from her and we could see ourselves thrown to the spacious streets of the Lylat System… if you catch my drift."

"She wouldn't do Panther like that," Wolf shook his head.

"Panther? No. Us? Perhaps," Leon scowled. "Let me know if you find anything palatable on the digi-board."

"Got it."

They split up after the elevator, with Leon taking the lift up to the Entertainment District and Wolf stepping out when he was at the Commerce District. Once Leon was out of sight, Wolf dug up a few wayward coins in his mostly empty wallet and made his way back to the Rusty Nickle. There was a lively country song playing when he walked in. He felt a few eyes wander to him but he brushed them off. Word could not have traveled that fast about their fuck up, right? He chose to believe they were just enamored by his good looks.

"Back again?" the barkeep asked with a wary look at Wolf.

"Yeah," Wolf sat down at the bar then slid the pitiful amount of coin across to the bartender, a floppy-eared mule. "What can ya give me with this?"

The mule gave a snort but accepted the coin and went about fetching a mug for Wolf. What he slid over, Wolf could have almost thought was a lemonade from the pale hue. But he took the drink wordlessly. Anything was better than nothing.

He told himself the drink was his reward for not committing homicide that day and decided to take it to the digi-board with him. Wolf scanned his ID on a side panel and the menu for the digi-board appeared as he logged in. A few recommended missions popped up immediately but Wolf closed out of them. Those would have required three guns, not two. He scaled down his search to lower grade missions and lamented at the lack of them. Most were away from Zenith as well and would require several days of travel. That meant inn rooms… and he was not sure if they could afford that. Wolf sighed. With their luck lately, he almost was considering a Grade 0 job just for a little bit more financial cushion, even if it was something as paltry as twenty bucks.

Nothing appealed to him so he logged out and went back to the bar, feeling a twinge in his leg. He hissed out a breath, wobbling but maintaining his balance. A drop or two of his drink sloshed onto the floor. Still enveloped in his foul mood, he plopped back down on the stool and began silently bemoaning his situation. No good jobs. Panther down. Leon paranoid about being chucked out the airlock. What a miserable day. What a miserable year. He thought back to Sargasso, musing over when he had ruled the world once, or so it had felt like. How the mighty fell. Wolf lifted his mug as if to make a toast, giving a silent "fuck you" to the aparoids before taking a drink.

God, his knee fucking hurt the more he drank of the barkeep's shitty swill. But he kept on. The day had gone to shit faster than lightspeed and Wolf was content to wallow in his misery. He lifted his frosted mug and drank deep of its amber brew, ice cubes whacking him in the snout. He grimaced at the taste. It wasn't good. Not even strong enough to get him drunk. But the burn of alcohol was distinctly there in the back of his throat and maybe if he pretended hard enough, he could convince himself he was tipsy.

He went for another drink, still sour over what had happened, but paused midway to lifting the mug to his muzzle. His ears went back and he caught a glance of a man standing behind him, slightly to his right. Thankfully, that was his good side. If the man had been on his left, Wolf might have never noticed him.

"Silas Darkmoon," Wolf said, lowering his mug and looking to the stormy grey feline. They were acquaintances at best; Wolf had seen him around Zenith plenty of times. Him, his manservant, and his kid—some bratty teen with a tendency for neon colors and too much cologne. Silas seemed like a decent sort. As decent as a bounty hunter could be. Cecilia seemed to have taken a liking to him. Apparently he had a stellar track record of getting shit done. "What can I do for you?"

"I just spoke with Cecilia," Silas replied, voice vaguely accented. He was some from distant planet, Wolf knew. Outside of the Cornerian Alliance. "She has given me the task of tracking the wayward carrier and the fugitive inside."

"Good luck with that," Wolf snorted.

"I came for information," Silas continued. "What can you tell me of the enemy?"

"Rats," Wolf shrugged. "Some of them are around Zenith apparently. Dunno who they are. That's why I was gonna question Willy. Guess they all work for Duke Mandrill. You familiar with him?"

"Apart from his status as a warlord? No, I am not," Silas answered.

"He's one of Andross's old generals. Ruthless," Wolf shrugged. "I remember the guy kinda. Didn't seem like much of a talker. More of a "shoot 'em and ask questions later" kind of guy. Wouldn't be surprised if his hideout was decked out with heavy defenses," Wolf said.

"Understood," Silas nodded. "I understand the carrier that was stolen belongs to Fox McCloud."

Just the vulpine's name was enough to nearly set Wolf off but he stifled it.

"Yeah," Wolf said sharply.

Silas gave pause but nodded, clapping Wolf heartily on the shoulder. "It is the way of things, O'Donnell. A cycle. One cannot be on top forever. If they do not blunder and fall from the peak, someone will see that they do."

Wolf did not like the sound of that but he grumbled into his mug, taking a drink. He said, "What about you, then? Aren't you Zenith's new rising star or some shit?"

"I am but a man that has bills to pay," Silas answered firmly. "This Duke Mandrill. For what purpose would he encroach upon Zenith's domain?"

"He's a warlord," Wolf said dismissively. "All warlords want power."

"And empty space is… power?" Silas raised a brow.

"Apparently," Wolf shrugged.

"I see…" Silas did not sound convinced but he nodded and slid some coin to Wolf. The canine looked at him in surprise then slid it back to the feline.

"I don't want your charity, Darkmoon."

"You gave me information."

"Not much."

"Then give me more."

Wolf side-eyed him then shrugged again. "Not much more to give. If those rats are here to infiltrate and they've been plugged into the maintenance crew, I'd suspect that the systems are being watched. Mandrill never seemed like the type to bide his time either. So he could make a move soon."

"On Zenith?"

"Probably."

"And you seem quite unconcerned."

Wolf laughed and shrugged. "Look. I've had a shitty day to put it mildly. If an angry baboon comes knocking Cecilia's door down, that's just par for the fucking course at this rate."

Silas gave a small smirk, his keen blue eyes glittering in amusement. He slid the coin back to Wolf. "Let us hope that is not the case."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Wolf? My thanks."

"Fer what?"

Silas said nothing and took his leave with a mysterious smile on his face. Wolf sighed and looked down at his mug, mulling over how bad it tasted. But at least the pain in his tongue wiped out the pain in his knee. Small silver linings were still silver linings.

RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT, ZENITH SPACE STATION –

"Well, here you are!" Cecilia Stardust announced to Fox when they arrived in his new apartment. It was barely furbished with a bed in a tiny bedroom, a small living quarters with a couch and television, and a kitchen that was basically enough room for one person. It was cramped overall but enough for a single person. Especially when that single person had basically nothing to his name.

"Thank you," Fox said to her as he walked to the nearby window. Dust sat on the windowsill and he supposed he should have not been surprised. Judging from the place, he wondered how long it had been since it had an occupant. It was not newly-built by any means… but it was definitely nice enough to exceed his low, low standards. He looked back at Cecilia, noticing her drop the apartment keys onto the kitchen counter.

"I know it's a far cry from your old ship. But it'll pass, I hope," Cecilia replied with a grin. "Take all the time you need. I'll send a message when I've got something for you."

And with that, Fox McCloud was left alone in the ringing silence. Alone… for the first time since his ship had been stolen. He walked to the couch and sank into it, letting his head rest against the back. What the hell had today even been? He had started the day thinking that he was just going to fuel up and carry on his way… but then all hell had broken loose the moment he had opened that door. So unlucky, he thought to himself. Or maybe this was karma. Maybe he had earned this misery somewhere in the last few years. Krystal probably would have agreed with that.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. On a normal day, if something like this happened, he would have tried to message Peppy. The old Pepster was the one he could always rely on to help him, even when he was half a solar system away. Fox flipped open to his messages with Peppy, glancing down at them. He realized then that Peppy had messaged him days ago. Days ago… and he had not replied.

PH: Hey, Fox! Just wanted to check in on you. Haven't heard from ya in a few days! Let me know where you're at and what's up!

Fox cringed. He supposed it was too late to reply now… especially with an SOS signal that he was stuck in a space station that Peppy could not even track. The vulpine thumbed through his creamy fohawk with a sigh. What would Peppy even do if he got here? Spirit him away to Corneria? Fox supposed he'd at least be in familiar territory then. But he hated the idea of leaning on Peppy, especially after not talking to him for days on end. It felt a bit manipulative and he conceded to his fate on Zenith with a sigh, tossing his phone onto the coffee table in front of him. He laid down on the couch, draping an arm over his eyes.

A nap sounded good. Maybe if he napped, he would wake up and everything would be solved. But Fox was wise enough to know better. If he wanted the Great Fox II back, he was going to have to work for it. Blood, sweat, and tears. The poor man's payment for his own hopes and dreams.

He thought of Star Wolf and reflected upon how surprise he had been to see that they lived. Wolf, especially… it seemed no matter what he got himself into, he was always able to pull himself out. Though, it seemed as though he had fallen on hard times as well if he had downgraded from being a warlord to a lackey. Fox had really thought they were dead—all three of them. He had even mourned them, in his own way. It had never felt right that Star Fox had reaped the reward of saving the Lylat System when they had only been able to do so because Star Wolf had distracted the bulk of the aparoid forces… but that was politics, Fox supposed. Cornerian-based media would never look upon friends of Andross kindly. Even if Wolf did help save the world, they would find a way to spin it and make it his fault somehow. The tabloids and the media were awful like that. Anything to paint the baddies into worse baddies and the good guys into the biggest damn heroes.

He traced the ceiling with his eyes, longing for so many things that he felt as though his heart was going to burst. When had the Hero of Lylat become the world's biggest loser? Where had it all gone wrong? He had made the right choices. He had done everything he was supposed to do and yet… yet… The corners of his eyes burned with anger. The frustration that built in his chest was like the ocean pulling back to ready for a tsunami. He hated this. Every bit of it. Not just being stranded but feeling so isolated. Friends were there, readily available in his phone, but an unseen hand barred him from even trying to reach out. It was as though he had somehow been corralled into a cage and he could not even begin to describe how it had come to this.

Fox's stomach growled. He was reminded of something Peppy had told him once; all of one's problems were made far more distant when one's stomach was full. Fox checked his wallet just to make sure his debit card was there and then he headed out the door, grabbing the keys as he went. Food would help clear his head and shut up the negative voice dragging him down.

He made his way back to the elevator, taking note of some kids playing outside with some chalk. It reminded him of when he was young. He used to sit outside and draw on the sidewalk near their house in Corneria City. That was before the accident that had taken his mother's life. He still remembered the tan wide-brimmed hat she loved to wear on summer days. It seemed like forever ago… The vulpine passed them by and prayed they got to experience a longer childhood than he had.

Finding food was harder than he thought it would be. After riding the elevator down, Fox was thrusted out into a world that felt so incredibly alien to him. There were signs everywhere for shops but Fox found it all overwhelming to his senses. They blared at him with flashing neon lights and currents of people roamed the walkways in front of their open doors. Fox sucked in a sharp inhale. Weeks on the Great Fox II with only ROB for company made crowds jarring to him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and quickly began down the massive corridor, hoping no one recognized him. Just thinking of his long conversations with ROB's horrible smalltalk AI chip made him miss the android even more. He hoped that rat had not done anything bad to him.

The Rusty Nickle came into sight before long and its country vibe harkened Fox back to his days on Papetoon. He stepped inside, listening to the loud playing of music overhead. It was some form of pub, it seemed, serving comfort food and liquor. The tune playing in the jukebox was an oldie his dad had listened to—a melancholy lament about losing one's girl to man with a bigger tractor or something. It was a silly song when Fox thought about it but the sorrowful tune resonated with his depressed soul.

Adhering to the sign that told customers to seat themselves, he sat down at a booth. A menu was taken into hand from a menu holder nearby and Fox looked over it. He told himself not to spend too much; he would need some money to purchase clothes when he was done with lunch. A long-legged crane came by and took his order— a basic burger with some fries and a Cornerian cola. He sat back and waited for his meal to arrive, still feeling dismal and dreary.

But it was then that he caught sight of Wolf. Fox could almost not believe his bad luck at that point. Of all the goddamn places to wander into… he had stumbled upon where Wolf had gone. With a scowl, he looked to the empty booth seat in front of him, ears back. What a miserable day… he hoped Wolf did not look over… he prayed Wolf did not look over…

Wolf looked over. And if looks could kill, Fox was certain he would be dead on the spot. He sank slightly in his booth. The two made eye contact then Wolf looked away, his entire body heaving with a sigh. Fox waited for him to approach. To mock him. Instead, Wolf stayed there and Fox realized if that was what they had become over the past few years. No longer rivals, just people that knew each other's names but stayed on the opposite sides of the bar. Fox did not think he liked that and he could not put into words why.

But still, he remained sitting at his booth, letting the distance keep them apart. His food arrived and he began eating, realizing that as soon as he tasted the meal that he was not actually that hungry. He hated when his stomach did this. It was always during times when he was stressed out. His appetite flipped on him and he sadly pawed at his fries. He tried to force one down slathered in ketchup. It caught in his throat and he coughed loudly, looking up with bleary eyes to see Wolf plopped down in front of him with a sway. When Fox had recovered, he scooted back so his back rested against the booth.

"Wolf—" Fox began.

"What the hell are ya doing here?" Wolf asked angrily. The faintness in his eye made it look like glass. Fox wondered if he was sober.

"I… I came here to fuel up and…" Fox stammered.

"Shuddap. You knew I was here," Wolf growled. "Came to get a laugh, didn't you? Well you look like shit, too, McCloud, so I don't wanna hear it."

Fox's ears went back. "You're drunk."

"Yep. Got myself some good coin finally," Wolf said with a hiccup. "But that's not the point right now. How did you find this place?"

"It just showed up on my scanners!" Fox said, brows furrowing as Wolf snatched one of his fries and dunked it into the ketchup pile. When Wolf went to grab a second one, Fox smacked his hand. "Quit it!"

"I'm hungry," Wolf sneered. "And you look like you're gonna fucking lose it if you keep eating."

"I'm just taking my time!" Fox snipped back. "Buy your own damn food."

"I wanna know why you're here," Wolf insisted angrily.

"I already told you that," Fox said. "Look all of this was just an accident. I had no idea you were here. I had no idea you were even alive, Wolf!"

The gray-furred merc pause for a moment, snout crinkled with the threat of a growl. He leaned heavily against the table, glaring through Fox with his single violet eye. It seemed even in his tipsy stupor, he was aware enough to pick his next words with some amount of care.

"I know General Pepper… sorry… Peppy's got a bounty on my head still. I ain't stupid. He won't erase that until our bodies are turned in. So if you think you're here to cash in after doin' us dirty after the whole aparoid business…!" Wolf began.

"Is that what this is about?" Fox asked incredulously. "Look, we searched for you guys out there. We tried our best to scan for any distress signals… but there was nothing. I don't know how you guys escaped."

"By the skin of our teeth," Wolf shot back. "And no thanks to you or any Cornerians. And all they did was give us a shitty passive-aggressive eulogy on primetime news. No clearing the names. No nothin'."

"And you think I control that!?" Fox demanded.

"You're the Hero of Lylat, you control more than you think," Wolf huffed, eyeing Fox's fries.

"I'm not a god, Wolf," Fox said angrily. "The news ran what they wanted to run. I didn't think you'd want glory of all things."

"Not glory, pup, you're missing my point," Wolf retorted, then wildly gestured at the busy bar around them. "Think normal people come to places like this?"

"No," Fox answered.

"Exactly," Wolf said, picking up a fry and pointing it at Fox to emphasize his point. With a sigh, the vulpine let him chomp down on it. "So I wanna know why you gotta come here and ruin the sanctity of this… this uh…" he gestured about, trying to come up with the word for it.

"… Safe haven?" Fox prompted.

"Close enough. Why the fuck are you here?" Wolf repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

"Well, I didn't mean to stay here," Fox scowled. "And as soon as my ship's back, I'm leaving."

"Good," Wolf spat. "Because this ain't your turf, McCloud. This ain't even your world. And I'm not gonna let you clown me like you did before. Got it? You stay away. Don't even… don't even look at me. Got it?"

"Yeah, whatever," Fox rolled his eyes and Wolf grabbed one more fry before getting up.

The canine looked as though he had one last thing to say but he was cut off by a buzz in his pocket. Wolf made his retreat with his phone in hand, stepping out the doors of the Rusty Nickle. Fox watched him go in disgust then began picking at his food again. The conversation with Wolf had drained his appetite even more than before but he told himself to still try. Whatever he didn't eat, he was certain he could get a box for and take it back to his apartment. With a sigh, he slurped down some cola.

Someone slid in a coin on the jukebox and selected another old timey favorite his dad used to listen to. He gave his partially-eaten burger a small, sad smile. And he sat in reflection of the last few days, wondering if his dad was laughing at him from beyond the grave.

RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT, ZENITH SPACE STATION –

Wolf could not believe his eye when he checked his messages. Still midway enveloped in the throes of alcohol, he stared at his phone screen, trying to digest what he was reading but finding it suspiciously difficult.

LP: Got a lead in Entertainment District. Shook a guy down and he says Willy often had beers with a guy named Rex Laramidia.

PC: That's not a real name.

LP: You're supposed to be resting!

PC: I can't sleep lol :/ Who's this Rex guy?

LP: Idk. Think Cecilia might know?

PC: Prolly but I ain't texting her rn, I'm not crazy lmaooo

LP: Useless

PC: Whaaaaat

Wolf sighed and began chatting with the other two.

WO: Laramidia's a country on Fortuna.

PC: Really?

WO: Yep.

PC: So it's not a real name.

WO: Idk, maybe it can be both? Any idea where this Rex dude frequents? Or what he looks like?

LP: No clue. I will keep digging. In the meantime…

WO: Oh no. Not the smiley.

PC: Here we go…

LP: I got us a job. Small time work. There's a downside.

WO: Hit me with it.

LP: I think we're gonna need three people.

WO: And you took it?

LP: Apparently everyone's already heard about this morning in the hanger so we're not exactly "popular" at the moment.

WO: Damn, word gets around fast. Fine. What's the job?

LP: Security detail for Entertainment District. Boxing ring match tomorrow night. Apparently, someone keeps slipping laxatives into the water fountain where the boxers get ready. It's making a mess of the ongoing tournament.

PC: Ew.

WO: And that requires three people…?

LP: The stadium's not small, Wolf. And we could use a boost in our rep at this point.

WO: So who are we gonna get for a third?

LP: You're not gonna like this.

WO: Don't fucking say it.

PC: LMAO

LP: I had thought to reach out to Darkmoon but it appears he's taken another job off-site. And there's not many others I would trust to split the reward with…

WO: Leon…

LP: We're desperate, Wolf. And don't think I don't know that you've been drinking in the Rusty Nickle since we parted ways.

Wolf's ears went back and he looked around, trying to see if he could spy Leon somewhere but the chameleon did not appear to be nearby.

WO: Just take a diff job, easy.

LP: No one wants to hire us.

WO: …

LP: And I've already agreed to this one. Chide me if you wish. But our funds are low and I did not want to let the opportunity slip by. So go ask Fox. Or I will.

PC: [Inserts a popcorn gif]

WO: No way in hell he's gonna agree.

LP: He is a man who just lost everything. This will be an alliance of convenience, Wolf. Think of it as a strategy move. We can cut him loose later. Or worse, if you want revenge on him.

WO: I don't care about that anymore.

LP: Then go speak with him.

WO: Fine.

Incredulous that this was the reality he lived in, Wolf looked back at the Rusty Nickle. He ran his hand through his unkempt hair and sucked in a breath. Begrudgingly, he bit back a growl and sulked his way into the bar. Fox was exactly where he had left him. When Wolf sat back down in the booth across from him, the vulpine looked alarmed. The ex-pirate's muzzle wrinkled in disdain, a serious look in his eye. Ugh, nothing sobered him up more like feeling like a goddamn moron. But here he was, for the sake of living, swallowing down his pride and asking for help from the one person he never thought he would.

"So, McCloud… are ya free tomorrow?"

"W-what!?"

"Good," Wolf said then leaned in. "'Cause you've just been formally recruited as a temporary member of Star Wolf."