Chapter Two

Baths, Sex, and Simulators

With a sigh of relief Vixy closed the door to her apartment. Dropping her purse on the floor she took stock of the room. It was a complete and utter mess. An empty pizza box sat at an angle on her coffee table, several socks had managed to land themselves on top of the couch, and a bra still lay on the floor from last weekend's fling. Did I get his number? Huh. Whatever.

Deciding that the mess could wait Vixy headed for her bedroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. It was time for that hot bath she'd been promising herself. The bedroom wasn't in much better shape than the living room. The bed was unmade, she'd left her holovision on, though not to anything interesting so she turned it off, and several used coffee mugs had piled up alongside her bed. Tossing her clothes in the general direction of the overflowing hamper, Vixy stepped into her bathroom and flipped on the lights.

The bathroom, contrary to the rest of the apartment, was perfectly clean. Vixy could tolerate, and in fact preferred, a messy living space, but she could not abide a dirty bathroom. The counters were scrubbed, the cosmetics and toiletries were all neatly arranged, and the floor sparkled. Several gingerbread scented candles were scattered about, and Vixy went ahead and lit them with the matches she kept in the medicine cabinet. Starting the water running she waited until it was almost steaming hot, then let it begin filling the tub. Satisfied that it would take a few minutes, she dumped some lavender scented soap in the water, then headed for the kitchen.

Presenting the perfect contrast to the bathroom, Vixy's modest kitchen was the messiest part of the apartment. Dishes were piled up, cereal from a morning breakfast spill still covered the counter, and the fridge was covered over with magnets and posters advertising everything from vacation spots to cookware she wouldn't know how to use if her life depended on it. Hmmm. I should learn how to cook at some point. "I can make pancakes though. The best pancakes," she reminded herself.

Opening the fridge she prized a bottle of red wine from inside of it. She grabbed the last of the clean wine glasses from the cabinet, then poured a healthy amount from the bottle. Replacing the bottle she took the glass in hand and went back to her bath. The lavender scent of the soap was already beginning to spill out into the bedroom when she returned. The water had filled to just the right level, and the bubbles were almost overflowing. She turned off the water and dipped a toe in to check the temperature. Hot, but not quite boiling. Perfect. She stepped in. "Ahhhh...oh man, oh that's good." Vixy settled herself in the tub, closed her eyes, and let the warm water and fragrant bubbles soak through her fur, teasing the sensitive skin beneath.

Sinking a bit further into the water, Vixy hummed contentedly to herself, reaching next to her to pick up the wine glass. She sipped from it, savored it for a moment, then swallowed. Steam curled up from the bath, fogging the mirror and casting the room in a soft, hazy light. A few minutes passed, during which the wine in her glass slowly disappeared, and the tension in her muscles eased until she felt them go almost completely slack. With a happy sigh she let one of her hands drift between her slender thighs. "Mmmm...why not?" she whispered absently to herself.

Just then a loud, sudden noise shattered Vixy's increasingly intimate relaxation. "Dammit!" Eyes going wide she swiveled her ears in the direction of the noise. It was her phone, of that there was no question, but if she could tell which ringtone it was she might be able to avoid getting out of her bath. It didn't take long, and once she'd identified it she let out a frustrated grunt and stepped out of the tub. "I'm gonna kill her."

Wrapping a towel around herself Vixy moved as quickly as she could across her bedroom, dripping water all across the rug. Reaching the phone on her dresser she stabbed the answer button and said, "Meryl, I swear you have the worst timing."

"What? I heard you got a promotion," came the sweet, seductive voice of Vixy's best friend, Meryl Lyn Monroe.

"How? How could you possibly know that?" Vixy asked, picking up the phone and taking it back to the bathroom. She settled herself in the water, confident the phone's waterproof case would prevent any damage from the steam filled environment. "I haven't told anyone. Or posted it on Muzzletome or Meverse. How did you find out?"

"I have my ways."

"Right." Vixy shook her head. "So, you're just going to be mysterious, aren't you?"

"We Cerinians have to keep up the mystique somehow," Meryl replied. "Even half-Cerinians."

"Hmmm." Vixy closed her eyes. "You know, you could say the same thing about felines in general. You're a pretty mysterious lot."

"And we intend to keep it that way," Meryl replied. "At least until it no longer suits us. So, what are you doing?"

"Taking a bath," Vixy answered. "And I was about to relax when you called."

Meryl was silent for a moment, then said, "You were gonna rub one out, weren't you?"

Laughing, Vixy said, "Probably more than one."

Meryl joined in the laughter. "Well, don't let me get between you and those magical fingers. I assume that means going out and getting drunk to celebrate that promotion is off the table?"

Vixy thought about it for a moment, then said, "Yeah. I think I want a night in tonight. Forgive me?"

"Pfft. It's fine. More for me," Meryl replied. "Have fun."

"You too," Vixy replied. The call ended, and for a moment Vixy just lay there in the tub, quietly enjoying the warmth. Then, with a smile and a giggle, she set about relaxing in earnest.

A loud, terrible, utterly horrendous beeping noise woke James McCloud from a deep, pleasant sleep. Ears folding back against his skull, he put his head under his pillow and tried to ignore the sound. Next to him on the bed, Jamie and her roommate Clara stirred, the poodle and lioness both groaning as they returned to consciousness.

"Make it stop," James grumbled from beneath the pillow.

A moment later the noise stopped, and he felt someone poking him in the side. "Come on McCloud, wake your lazy ass up."

Rolling over, and being quite unabashed about his current nakedness, James tossed the pillow aside and stared up at Jamie. "I had fun last night."

"So did I," Jamie said. "What about you Clara?"

Smirking, the lioness said, "He's good. Not as good as this panther I once met, but certainly not bad."

Shaking his head, James said, "You wound me."

Giggling, Jamie snuggled up next to him and said, "Don't worry, you're still the best I've had so far."

"So far?" James kissed her hair. "Ah, the times we live in."

Tail wagging Jamie was about to say something when Clara interrupted, "Jamie..."

"What?" the poodle asked, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her eyeline while simultaneously fending off James' roving hands. The male vulpine made a silly pouty face as he relented.

"It's seven o'clock."

Jamie's eyes went wide. "Oh shit." She sprang out of bed, tripped, landed on the floor, then bounced right back up, hopping on one foot as she started pulling on clothes. "How many alarms did we sleep through?"

Taking a moment to think, Clara said, "Three. Maybe four?"

Confused, James looked at the poodle. "Is something happening that I don't know about?"

"I have to be at work in half an hour," Jamie replied, throwing on her uniform shirt. "Fuck, I can't even shower. I'm gonna smell like you all day."

"Sorry," James replied, grinning devilishly. "Tell 'em it's a new perfume, Musk of a McCloud or something."

"Uh huh." Jamie shook her head, running to the bathroom to at least brush her teeth. She reemerged about a minute later, just as James was sitting up in bed. Kissing him on the nose she said, "It really was great, but I gotta go." Looking at her roommate, she said, "He's all yours, I know you're off today."

Clara shrugged, "Ehhh." James stuck his tongue out at her. "Oh don't give me that mopey canid face."

James poured on the mopiness. Slowly but surely Clara broke down, settling down on the bed with him again, tail whipping behind her. Kissing her ears, James said, "I'd love the chance to prove you wrong, you know."

"About what?" Clara asked, her eyes full of feline fire.

"That panther," James said, his arousal growing.

Glancing down between his legs, Clara just shook her head and said, "Do your worst."

James was about to do just that when Jamie tapped him on the shoulder. "Phone."

"What?" James looked behind him, taking the phone from Jamie's hand. Holding it to his muzzle, he said, "Hello?"

"James, it's Peppy, where are you?" Came his friend's voice, the twang in it extra strong today.

"Um...busy?" James replied, trying not to growl as Clara pressed herself against him. His free hand drifted down to cup her round, supple rear.

There was a long, protracted sigh from the other end of the line. "I know for a fact that Jamie has work this morning, how busy could you be?"

"Roommate levels of busy," James replied, squeezing Clara's left buttock as the feline wrapped a hand around his member, stroking it with lustful intent. Clara winked at her roommate who, in response, waggled her eyebrows at the lioness.

"Okay," Peppy said, his tone informing James that his current situation was, in the hare's mind, anything but okay. "I'm not even going to begin to unpack the levels of ick I'm feeling right now. You do remember that we're supposed to be at Space Dynamics this morning though, right?"

Clara shifted on the bed, putting her head between James' legs, which he spread invitingly. Her nose bumped into his length, and she planted a kiss at the head, making James suck in a breath. Then his brain rallied, processing Peppy's words before pleasure could override them. Oh goddammit. Pushing Clara away gently, he swung his legs over the bed and started reaching for his shoes. "When do I need to be there? Tell me I'm not late."

There was a moment's hesitation. "We don't have to be there for a couple of hours yet..."

"Peppy...are you saying that I have two hours to get somewhere that will take, at most, fifteen minutes travel time?" James was grinning even as he made his voice as grim and serious as possible. Pressing up against his back, her breath hot on his neck, Clara started pulling him back to the bed.

"Yes," the hare said, resignedly.

"See you there," James said, hanging up. Turning to Clara, he asked, "So, how do you want to do this?"

Pushing him onto his back, Clara straddled him and replied, "You just lay back flyboy, and let me do the flying."

"You know how to work the stick?" James tried, and failed, to keep a straight face at his own terrible joke.

Snorting, Clara took his hardened member in her hand, then guided it inside her with expert proficiency. Sighing in happiness, she rested her hands on his shoulders and said, "I think so."

"Well, you seem to at least know docking maneuvers." James smirked, reaching up to palm her breasts.

Growling down at him, Clara's tail whipped in agitation. "We are not going to keep using pilot's metaphors this whole time, are we?"

Shrugging, and giving her nipples a tender, but forceful squeeze, James said, "You're the pilot, so it's up to you."

Rolling her eyes, Clara also started to roll her hips. "Shut up McCloud, or I'll stuff my panties in your mouth."

Smirk widening, eyes bright, tail wagging in vulpine mischief, James said, "How do you know I wouldn't like that?"

The rumbling purr that had been building in Clara's chest turned into a threatening growl, and she bit out through grit teeth, "One more word, and you won't have a prick, got it?" To illustrate her point, she clenched around him, hard enough that she got a pained grimace from him. "Got it?"

"Got it," James replied. "I surrender."

After that, James wisely kept his muzzle shut, even as the sex became more and more involved. Clara seemed serious about doing all the work, keeping him pinned on his back the entire time. James didn't mind, he had no problem watching her work up a delicious sweat. Or watching as those ample breasts bounced with each crashing of her hips against his. It was, in all honesty, a mesmerizing and beautiful sight. Peppy is going to bitch at me all day for this. Then Clara leaned over him, her slight height advantage allowing her to press her chest against his face. Grinning stupidly from beneath her cleavage, James thought, Worth it, then stopped thinking altogether, letting himself sink fully into the oldest dance in evolution.

Steam curled upwards from the coffee mug as it sat on the table. For a moment, Vixy was reminded of her bath the night before. Smiling, she took the mug in her hands and sipped at the life giving substance. Across from her in the diner booth sat Meryl, the pink furred feline staring out the window, entranced by the passersby. Her tail flicked back and forth on the booth's leather cushion, and a soft, contented purr vibrated in her chest. Both women had always been fond of people watching. They enjoyed observing all the little things that people did as they walked without even realizing it. The muttered reminders, the absent tail wags, the ears folded down as they walked by a construction site were, to Vixy and Meryl, endlessly fascinating. Even so, today Vixy didn't feel quite as interested in the people walking by as she usually did. Instead she found herself thinking about the fact that today would be her first day in the combat simulator. A chance to prove herself, and prove that her knack for reckless flying could actually be a strength, not a weakness.

Turning away from the window, Meryl looked at her friend. "You're nervous."

Setting the mug back down on the plastic covered table, Vixy nodded. "Did your powers tell you that?"

"No." Meryl shook her head. "It's just that obvious."

"Gee, thanks," Vixy said, smiling at the waiter as he brought them their breakfast. He set down a tower of waffles for Meryl, and eggs and toast for Vixy. She wanted to eat light this morning. "Thanks." The waiter, a cute looking husky, smiled as he walked off.

"Sleep well last night?" Meryl asked, forking a hefty amount of waffle into her muzzle.

"Sure. Why?" Vixy took a bite of her toast. "Ugh. Butter. I told them dry," Vixy complained, though she kept on eating it anyway. For once in her life she didn't feel like making an issue out of it.

"They always get it wrong," Meryl said, shrugging. "I never understood why you liked dry toast anyway."

"It's not that I don't like buttered toast," Vixy said, suddenly feeling like she was in an episode of a holovision show about nothing, "It's that I don't like it on days when I've got a hundred billion butterflies in my stomach."

Watching Vixy scarf down the next piece, Meryl thought to ask, "Then why are you still eating it?"

"Because I'm hungry, and it's not that big a deal," Vixy answered, taking a brief second to watch as a group of well built male foxes strolled by the window. All other thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she allowed herself to engage in some eye-pleasing window shopping. "Mmph. Good morning."

Following Vixy's gaze, Meryl uttered a long, soft moan, "I want all of them."

"There's like, five," Vixy replied, eyes widening as one of them bent over to pick up something he'd dropped. "You can't have all of them."

"Why not?" Meryl asked, leaning towards the window to try and keep sight of them as the group of foxes faded into the crowd.

"Because I want at least two," Vixy said, turning back to her meal. "I wonder what gym they go to. Why didn't you read their minds and find out?"

"I told you," Meryl said, "My telepathy doesn't work that way. I can sense emotions, not thoughts. I know, it sucks. Anyway, I asked whether you slept well last night since I figured you'd be nervous."

"Not really," Vixy replied, it was only half a lie. She'd fought off nervousness with a combination of fingers, smutty novels, and a certain battery operated device. But, if she brought that up, Meryl would spend the next fifteen minutes begging her for details. "I was too excited. The anxiety only really hit me this morning."

"Why? What did you realize this morning?" Meryl slathered more syrup on her already syrupy food.

"That this is actually kind of a big fucking deal," Vixy answered, sprinkling a bit of salt on her eggs. "This is combat trials for an experimental space superiority fighter. Not to mention these are the first combat trials it's ever been through, simulated or live fire. And, that means I'm gonna be the first one they put through it."

"So?" Meryl continued devouring her waffles, although at times it looked more like she was just swallowing them whole.

"So, it's a big fucking deal," Vixy repeated. "I mean, if I do something wrong, or if I'm not a good enough pilot..."

"They replace you, and pour another ten billion credits into the project for shits and giggles," Meryl said, unimpressed by the supposed gravity of the situation. "So what?"

"I might lose my job," Vixy told her.

"So? When has that ever been a deterrent to bad behavior for you?" There was a teasing, but still serious glint in Meryl's eyes.

"Dammit Meryl, you know what I mean. Besides, if I do well enough in the simulator, maybe they'll choose me for live fire, too. And just think what that could lead to." Vixy started bolting down her eggs. She should probably get going, she didn't want to be late.

Setting her fork down on her plate, Meryl sat back, wiping her whiskers. "I have a feeling I know what you mean, but do you want that?"

The question caught Vixy off guard. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking up from her half empty plate.

"I mean, do you want to become a combat pilot? Fly around, fighting bad guys, taking your life in your hands every time you sail out among the stars?"

Not sure what to say, Vixy thought the concept over in her head. "It...does have an appeal."

"Okay, what's appealing?" Meryl inquired, leaning forward.

"Well, it'd be thrilling," Vixy said, speaking slowly as she contemplated the possibilities of such a career. "I'd feel like I was making a difference, protecting people..."

"You have always been protective," Meryl pointed out. "I can't even count the number of fights you've gotten into to keep creeps off of me."

Vixy snorted. "I was cleared of wrongdoing in all three of them."

"True," Meryl allowed. "So, do you really want to be a fighter pilot?"

"I don't know." Vixy shrugged. "The only way to do it would be through the Defense Force, and I can barely stomach the regulations and oversight I'm dealing with now."

"You could always work for a mercenary outfit," Meryl suggested, though she seemed noncommittal.

"Yeah. Right." Vixy shook her head. "Because Private Military Corps are so much better."

"You're right," Meryl agreed. "Groups like Ares are just as bureaucratic. Shame there isn't, like, the small business equivalent. Or, at least, a small outfit you'd actually want to work for."

"Who knows," Vixy said. In the back of her mind she could feel something trying to get her attention. A half forgotten memory her subconscious was trying to put back together. She ignored it, if it was important it would click eventually. "We'll see how things go today." Vixy quickly finished the last of her eggs, then stood up. Leaning across the table she gave Meryl a kiss on the cheek and said, "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, hon," Meryl replied, giving her a friend a kiss in return.

With that Vixy left, a bit more of a bounce in her step. Her mind wandered, thinking about what it might be like to be a mercenary, out flying the space lanes, clearing out pirates, saving ships in distress. It appealed strongly to her sense of adventure. Her need to live life to the fullest, safety and responsibility be damned.

Checking her phone for the time, Vixy breathed a small sigh of relief. She was a little bit ahead of schedule. That meant she could enjoy her walk to the train station. The Space Dynamics Research and Development Headquarters were located roughly a kilometer outside of Corneria City proper. The corporate headquarters however occupied the top half of one of the most prestigious skyscrapers in Corneria City. Vixy assumed that Argus Phoenix fully intended to buy up the remaining floors just as soon as possible.

As she walked along the sidewalk Vixy took stock of her surroundings. Up ahead and on the other side of the street she could see one of the big, classy movie theaters. She briefly scanned the titles, her eyes alighting briefly on the one for Star Travel: The Unknown Nation. She'd heard good things about the movie, Cornerians did love their space operas. There were a few other movies that looked vaguely interesting, a new comedy about galactic hitchhikers, and a drama about the Unification Wars, the last series of conflicts between Cornerians on their home world, back when people were still only dreaming about traveling to other planets, much less other stars.

Spotting the overground train station ahead, Vixy stopped at the nearby crosswalk. Her nose twitched at the various scents of people surrounding her, sorting through the variety of natural and artificial smells that canines were almost hyper aware of. The melange was strong today, probably thanks to the already increasing morning heat.

The crossing sign turned green, and Vixy moved with the herd, her shoes clicking softly on the hexagonal street tiles. To either side of her, the tiles, which were in fact miniature, high efficiency solar panels, blinked first green, then yellow, marking both the borders of the crosswalk and providing a clue for how much longer people had. Vixy recalled her first time in Corneria City, when she'd had to be told by a stranger that, unless she wanted to get run down, she better hold her hand out to the cars, giving the universal signal for "stop". It had shocked her to learn that, on beautiful, paradiscal, borderline utopian Corneria, the traffic wasn't just bad, it could be downright murderous.

Vixy made it safely to the other side, along with the rest of the crowd, and then set off in the direction of the train station. Her ears perked at the sound of engines, but not car engines, no, the electric cars on the road were virtually silent. Instead, her ears told her, these were aircraft. She looked up and saw a group of Federation Spitflaks roaring over the buildings, heading for the airfield near the Federation military base. She paused for a moment, making her hands into a visor over her eyes, watching them until they flew out of sight. Her mind wandered back to the possibility of joining a mercenary outfit. Of taking her life into her own hands, living on the edge, seeing the galaxy, and putting the worst of the worst in the crosshairs of her fighter's targeting scanners. Her muzzle curled upward in a smile, and her tail wagged just a bit. One thing was certain, this was an idea she would need to give much, much more thought to.

James McCloud stepped into the locker room inside of the Space Dynamics Flight Simulator Complex, one of several sections connected to the larger R&D facility. The locker room was spare, but well maintained. The floor tiles glistened, and the lockers were polished. Off to the side James could see a shower room, and noted with satisfaction that someone had thought to install privacy partitions. He took the flight suit offered to him by Archer with a smile, and said, "I hope I'm not late."

Grunting, Peppy said, "Cutting it a little close."

"Yeah, where were you?" Archer asked, zipping up his suit. "Peppy just gave me one of those eye rolls."

Wagging his tail, James stripped down to his shorts. "Clara was giving me a little morning sugar," he explained.

Cocking an eyebrow, Archer said, "I thought you were sleeping with Jamie last night."

"I was." James glanced over at Peppy, the hare was politely ignoring the conversation. "Clara's her roommate."

"Ah." Archer nodded, stowing his clothes in his locker. James waited. The locker shut, then the lynx's ears shot up. "Wait a second! You slept with Jamie, then her roommate?" He turned back around, surprise written all over his face.

"Jamie first. But we were being a little noisy in round two, and Clara said that if she wasn't getting any sleep she might as well get laid." James shrugged. "So, it turned into sort of a threesome, and then Clara was off this morning so..."

"As usual, Jimmy here decided his hyperactive libido was more important than his work," Peppy finished for him, giving James an all too familiar look. "That about right?"

"Why yes Peppy," James said, grinning from ear to ear, "Yes, I believe it is." He zipped up his flight suit, stowed his clothes, and then added, "I could've gotten here early, but I decided to be nice and shower before I left."

"How courteous." Peppy shook his head, though James knew him well enough to see the subtle hint of good natured amusement mixed in with the irritation. Reaching into his bag, Peppy pulled out three circular items. He handed one each to James and Archer.

"Hey! When did these get here?" James exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the uniform patch. It displayed the Star Fox symbol, a bright red kitsune with a wing like tail emerging from its back, set against a black background.

Slapping it onto his left arm, just beneath the shoulder, Peppy said, "Last night. We've got extras, in case you lose yours. Also, I think the wings look like it's got a tail coming out of its back."

"Oh, I'm not letting this baby out of my sight. Also, shut up." James said, putting it on almost reverently.

Suited up, the three of them exited the locker room and headed for the simulators. "Do we have any idea who we're flying against?" James asked. Glancing around the well lit corridors, and briefly wondering what secrets might be kept behind doors marked "Access Restricted."

Peppy shrugged. "Not sure. But I assume he or she is the best they have."

"Huh." For a moment, James found himself wondering if it might be the same pilot who had buzzed them in the Arwing yesterday. "Well, let's smoke 'em."

"My thoughts exactly," Archer said, cracking his knuckles. "And that reminds me, pop's gonna need me in the shop at some point, assuming we get a day off around here."

"Simulators are gonna be running for us every other day," Peppy said, consulting the schedule briefly on his phone. "They'll use the off days to collate the data and refine the simulations."

"Sounds good," Archer said.

"How is your pop?" James asked, eyes drifting briefly to a group of female researchers as they walked by. Cute glasses, he thought to himself.

"Fine," Archer replied, trying not to smirk in response to James' perpetually wandering eyes. "The shop is doing well, but he still refuses to hire any more people."

"Stubborn man," James said, clucking his tongue.

Archer chuckled. "Yeah. Ma's gonna stick a wrench up his ass one of these days over it. After all, she co-owns the place."

"I assume she's still burying herself in the guts of everything that comes through there," Peppy commented.

"Oh yeah." Archer smiled. "Not a Lynx in the world who doesn't get covered in machine oil."

Opening the double doors to the simulator room, James took a quick look around. Unlike the more common simulator rooms in the complex, this one had been built specifically to test the Arwing. A series of pods stood opposite each other, arranged in neat rows, and elevated from the floor by about three meters. They were accessible by stairs leading up to a surrounding platform. These were the Virtual Reality interfaces that would be used to simulate flight. They were designed to mimic the configuration and flight abilities of whatever craft had been programmed into them. In addition to their use as an early phase of testing for prototypes, they were also commonly used by the military, as well as mercenary outfits, for both general practice, and mission dry runs.

Standing beneath the platform marked "Star Fox" was a young amphibian, a toad by the looks of him. Despite the relative smoothness of his complexion, James could see just the smallest of warts protruding from beneath the green skin. I wonder what kind of skin product he uses. Must be damn good to keep him looking like that, James thought absently to himself. Other than the unusual smoothness, the toad wore a green suit, yellow tie, and gold rimmed glasses. A mustache was also just beginning to appear beneath his nose. "Star Fox?" he asked, looking up from his tablet computer.

"That's us," James said, smiling and holding out a hand. "Beltino Toad, am I right?"

"Uh, well, yes," Beltino said. "Have we met before?" The toad looked confused by James' recognition.

"You were in the file Colonel Pepper gave us yesterday," James clarified. "I never forget a face."

"Oh, well that makes sense then," Beltino answered, taking the proffered hand, then shaking Archer and Peppy's as well. "Allow me to explain the basics of what you'll be doing today." Beltino motioned to the simulators. "These pods have been programmed to the specifications given to us by Colonel Pepper, so I hope you'll find them accurate."

"We use the Defense Force garages every now and then, so he should have all the info on our ships," Archer said. "Including special modifications and alterations I've made. I'll let you know if anything needs a little extra tuning, though."

"I'd appreciate it," Beltino said, his face lighting up at the sound of someone as technically inclined as he was. "There'll be a couple of settling in tests, just things to make sure settings are straight and responsiveness from the simulator is smooth, then we'll be getting into the combat tests."

"Who will we be flying against?" James asked. He wanted to know the name of the test jockey he'd be vaping.

"Vixy Reinard, one of our test pilots. She wasn't my first choice, but Mr. Phoenix insisted," Beltino informed him with a sigh. "She's rather..."

"Reckless? Impulsive? Prone to showing off?" James finished, smiling.

"Why yes. How did you know?" Beltino's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Because he used to wrestle me over action figures on a regular basis." The voice, feminine to be sure, but just a bit husky, came from directly behind James.

Turning around James grinned from ear to ear at the sight. "Vixy! Shit, how long has it been?"

"Four years." Vixy's tail wagged behind her like a propellor, and for a moment it looked it might actually allow her to lift off. "How are you?"

"I'm great," James said. "I started the team."

Vixy's eyes went wide. "Shut up! You're serious?" She gave him a shove, not believing her ears.

"One hundred and eleven percent," James said. "Star Fox is official, and in the good graces of both the Defense Force and, it would seem, Space Dynamics."

James could see the memories swirling behind her eyes at the news. Memories of when they'd known each other on Papetoon, and he'd told her about his childhood dream of being a flying superhero, which had morphed into piloting as he'd gotten earlier. Vixy's eyes turned to the mustached hare. "Peppy? Figures you'd be in on this. There always was a bit of a risk taker in you somewhere."

Smiling, Peppy gave her a hug and said, "Great. I can barely handle James on his own, so now what am I going to do?"

Holding Peppy close, Vixy said, "Give in to your basest desires."

"Not a chance." Peppy pulled back, the smile still on his face.

Archer stepped forward then, holding out his hand. "I'm Archer Lynx. I don't think we've met."

"Vixy Reinard. McCloud's old girlfriend from Papetoon. You from Corneria?" Vixy asked, shaking his hand.

"Born and raised. I met James a couple years ago, back when he was looking for a pair of Switch-Wings to start his team," Archer told her. "I happened to know where to get a few surplus wings, and I said my price was a spot on the team."

"Oh, I like that," Vixy said, nodding in approval.

"Ahem." Everyone turned at the sound of Beltino clearing his throat. The toad seemed a bit surprised at the immediate reaction, and he cleared his throat again a bit more nervously. "Um, I didn't realize you'd all met, but we are on a bit of a schedule..."

"No problem," James said, all business. "Star Fox, move out."

As they moved to the simulator pods, James could feel Vixy's eyes on him. He knew his sudden professionalism would catch her off guard. He'd never been like that when they'd known each other. And, generally, he wasn't like that now. But he was on the job, so he had to channel his usual joviality into a cool professionalism. 'Course, that didn't stop him from moving his tail just enough to let her get a view of his toned rear. She'd always loved it back on Papetoon. He smiled as, behind him, he heard her mutter: "Right. Time to kick their asses." Bring it on Reinard. Bring it on.