Subterranean Remanent Slave Colony

Southern Sandstorm Regions / Titania / Lylat System

1002 Hours

Wolf continued to growl through his teeth as he and Panther continued to clear the Militia's firebase located almost directly next to the Elevator. The place was a sadist's dream, tools of inflicting pain and humiliation were scattered everywhere across the walls and rooms. Everything a sick individual needed to permanently scar a person with a fate worse than death.

Violation of the Cornarian Military's Rules of Engagement or not, Wolf swore to himself to gut any of the remanent he could find. Their actions here could not go downplayed and ignored by the Cornarian Brass, He wasn't going to give the suits a choice in the matter.

The former outlaws braced to either side of a door, silently preparing to breach and clear the room on the other side. Holding up three fingers, Wolf began to count down. When the canine reached zero the two stepped out of cover and kicked open the hatch with weapons ready.

Empty, no one in sight. Wolf cautiously moved in keeping his Hellstorm ready in case it turned out to be a trap. The room looked like some sort of office/bunk room. The far wall displayed a custom set of shock batons and a small whip, Some sick individual's idea of a trophy no doubt. A large computer was built into the center desk, and much to Wolf's surprise was already turned on and waiting for commands.

Deciding the room was clear, Panther turned around and left Wolf next to the computer. Wolf was unable to contain his curiosity and worked his way around the desk cautious of the pool of water in one corner. The former outlaw tapped the screen, only to find himself a menu with audio journal entries.

"Fox, I found some sort of recording. You're gonna want to hear this." Wolf reported as he quickly synced his comm with the computer letting the whole team hear the file.

"Audio Log Number 4036. Chief Prisoner Interrogation. I have warned the commanding officer topside that we need to tighten our grip on the prisoners to keep them submissive. The fool denied my request and actually order security down here to back off and give the prisoners some breathing room, something about their value to Andross's plans. That ape is delusional, thinking that Andross will return from the dead to this facility. Why some of these people believe their killed Emperor to be some sort of god is beyond me. I just get paid to keep these "special" slaves in line." A course reptilian voice began, frustration and malice dripping from its tone.

"We gave them too much room, one of the men grew a backbone and killed three of my jailors with his bare paws trying to protect the Priestess when my men made an attempt to move her. These two slaves have become a symbol of hope and courage for the rest of the population, and this stunt will no doubt rally others to follow their examples. So I finally talked the boss into letting me show the slaves the consequences of such bravery. By this time tomorrow, the prisoner will be executed and his Pelt will serve as a reminder to the others of who's in charge. That will give me plenty of time to sharpen my knife collection. . ." The entry ended with a dark chuckle and a hiss.

"Well, that was wonderful. Really made my day." Falco sarcastically spoke up once the file ended. Thankfully, the bird's tone was quite sincere, if a bit aggressive. It might have been a poor choice of words, but the newly uncovered rage in his voice made it very clear what he meant.

"Uh, Fox, hate to point out the bad news but. . ." Slippy nervously took a breath, "If that log number was anything to go by, This operation has been underway for ten years, a month, and five days at least. That puts it right in the middle of the. . ."

"The Lylat wars." Fox finished, "This is looking more and more like one of Andross's experiments every minute. Cornaria's not going to like this."

Wolf tuned out the conversation, leaving the office and moving down the hallway checking every room as he went by. Mostly empty storage rooms or armories stocked with slaver weapons. Panther was well already into another wing of the firebase so Wolf took a different direction to cover more ground.

He pressed a button to open another sealed door, and as soon as he could see the far wall, the Hellstorm dropped to the ground, discarded as its wielder rushed forward.

In front of the thug turned champion, a canine body lay limp against the far wall, it's hands locked into heavy chains suspended above its head. What was once white fur was now a pale yellow of matted dirt and different kinds of grime. Dressed in little more than a faded loincloth and top with rusting gold fittings, her belly was very exposed making the sight of ribs unmistakeable. And of course there was the huge electronic collar locked around her neck, but that was nothing compared to the muzzle strapped around her face.

Serving no other purpose other than to humiliate the poor soul even further, the muzzle was like a small metal cage that fitted over the victim's snout and held in place by a series of belted straps. The muzzle was so small, that it prevented the victim from opening her mouth, forcing her to breathe through her nose and only manage to whimper and moan.

"Fox, I found a Cerinian female. She's in bad shape, I'm not even sure if she's still alive." Wolf reported as he began to unfasten the buckles holding the sadistic restraint on her face, "I'm in the firebase, Interrogation wing. We need to get her to the Doc up top, and fast."

"I hear you, Wolf," Fox confirmed over the comm, "Cassie, grab that stretcher, Falco meet us at Wolf's position. Slippy, you, Katt, and Barker stay here and keep opening those collars."

"You got it, Fox." The toad acknowledged.

"I'll try to have her free by the time you get here Pup," Wolf continued until he began to hear another reptilian hiss like the one from the journal.

Right behind him.

The pilot spun around drawing his sidearm and aiming it as a large figure leapt from the shadowy pool located in the corner. By the time Wolf realized his attacker was a Crocodile, the reptile had already snapped its jaw lengthwise across his arm, the unkempt teeth impaling their way into his flesh as Wolf growled in pain.

With his hand still inside the croc's mouth, Wolf pulled the trigger firing the pistol from the back of the croc's own throat. It was not a pretty sight. Ignoring the frantic calls on the comm, the Pilot managed to force the dead attacker's jaws off with his free arm, only really beginning to feel the pain when he saw how gruesome his own wounds were and how fast he was losing blood.

Critically wounded, Wolf managed to work his way over to a wall to prop himself up before his strength finally gave out and everything went black.