Chapter 3

After the transport's rear hatch popped off, everything not nailed down flew towards the new hole. The benches ripped right from their supports, taking Harry and Franco along with them. They didn't even have time to cry out. Wolf saw the case flying towards the rear door and— The transport's safety system slammed the cockpit's vacuum-sealed door closed. It all happened so fast that Wolf couldn't believe it had happened at first. He just stared blank-faced at the closed door, wondering if this was just a bad dream.

The case…

He unbuckled himself from the pilot's chair, running to look through the door's small porthole window.

"Oh, god…"

The case was still in the rear cabin, thank goodness. By some stroke of sheer luck, the case's handle caught onto a hook mounted on the wall. It wobbled back and forth in zero gravity, with no telling how long before it would get free and float away.

"It's all right… It's all right…" Wolf chanted, as if it were a magic spell to hold the case in place.

If he could just take it nice and easy getting back to the Retribution, maybe the case would stay where it was and this job would be done. Even though he needed to get back into the pilot's seat, Wolf felt afraid to move away from the window. He thought the case might fly away as soon as he took his eye off of it. If only he could open this door… That case was so near and yet so far away.

After a minute or so, Wolf worked up the nerve to get back into the chair and buckled his seatbelt back. The lupine ran a quick diagnostic check on the shuttle's systems. More bad news. The computer reported both engines as damaged. Not to mention Fortuna's gravity was now pulling him to the surface. The damaged engines wouldn't be strong enough to resist it.

"Damn it!" Wolf smashed his fist onto the console, leaving a little scruff mark on the metal.

Wolf wanted to hit it a few more times for good measure, but didn't want to risk crippling the ship any more than it already was. Closing his eye, he took a deep breath. He needed to relax. He needed to think through how he was going to get through this. A plan started to form in his head.

The engines were puttering and he'd have to land on Fortuna now, but Wolf thought he could glide into a crash landing. He'd just let gravity bring him down and only turn up the engines to soften the final impact. Wolf figured that he wouldn't have to worry about help even without comms. The Retribution was expecting him, so no doubt they'd spot him on radar. They'd recognize the ship, and they'd see him go down. Someone would be along to help him before long. He just needed to stay near the shuttle and wait. In the meantime, he'd check to see if the case was still in the back after landing.

Oh and I hope it is… I do not want to tell Sable that the case is missing. She was already pissy enough just giving us this job.

If the case was gone, Wolf was not looking forward to returning back to his mothership empty-handed. If there's one thing Star Wolf didn't need now, it was more failures on top of what they'd been through over the past couple years.

Despite losing to Star Fox during the Lylat War, Wolf figured he did well to turn around Star Wolf after that. Using his charisma and popularity within the old Venomian army, he'd attracted many of its remnants to his side. He even got to take over Venom's old space station in the Sargasso Space Zone as his hideout. Those were good times. Star Wolf had just about anything a PMC would ever need.

And then Star Fox came along and blew it all to hell, just before the Aparoid invasion. Wolf really hated that it wasn't even over something he did. Fox was looking for that idiot Pigma. Wolf had kicked him out of Star Wolf years before then. While Star Wolf was nothing but killers and thieves, Wolf demanded trust and respect amongst his killers and thieves. Without trust and respect Star Wolf would tear itself apart from the inside. Pigma broke those rules.

But none of that stopped Fox and his annoying friends from blowing up half of the space station trying to find him. Wolf didn't have the resources to repair the station after such an attack. Even if he did it wouldn't have mattered, because the Cornerian Army soon followed in Fox's wake to wipe out what was left, like always. So all Wolf had left now was one assault carrier that survived the attack, plus whatever he'd managed to cobble onto it before the cavalry arrived. He decided to rechristen his new mother ship the Retribution, because that's what he was going to give to all of his enemies once Star Wolf got back on its feet again.

And I was this close to turning all of that around! Damn the Cornerian Army cowards. They always send in Fox to do all the hard work, and then they clean up whatever's left. Like when they sent Bill to shoot down an unarmed shuttle.

Wolf pointed the shuttle's nose upwards, as he prepared for reentry. Most of the dials hovered in the red, so he prayed his ride would hold together a bit longer. Steam and flames began to course around the hardened bottom of the ship. Wolf's heart pounded as he waited for the atmospheric entry to complete.

The flames gave way to blue skies. A blanket of clouds concealed the jungles below from view. Not liking where this was going, Wolf glided under them. The ship started getting pelted with raindrops. A lot of them. He'd just entered a violent tropical storm. Visibility reduced to almost nothing within seconds. Spread out below, Wolf couldn't see anything but a solid carpet of dark green trees. No suitable landing zones anywhere. Growling, Wolf urged his ship onwards.

Another alarm klaxon blared through the cockpit. Wolf looked down at the ship's readout. The port side engine flashed red on the display, before turning black. Narrowing his eyes, he looked out to the left. What was left of the ship's little blue flame sputtered out and died, leaving just one engine to fly on. The ship started to list to the left, with the starboard engine now struggling by itself to keep the shuttle up in the air.

Growling, Wolf pulled the stick hard upwards, willing the shuttle to fly for as long as possible. But no matter how hard he pulled back, the ship continued its inevitable descent into the jungle. Like it or not, it seemed he was going to have to smash through the trees when he landed.

Wolf snapped his head back and forth, looking out over the jungle for a suitable landing zone. But he still couldn't see anything except for a solid blanket of treetops. After a second desperate search, he finally spotted a grassy field in the distance. But already he could hear the bottom of the shuttle grazing against the tops of the taller trees underneath.

Fixing his gaze on the clearing, Wolf fired up the remaining starboard engine with all the power it had left, as he flipped it over to VTOL mode. The engine howled in protest as it tried to keep the shuttle aloft, not designed to bear the weight of the ship alone. The shuttle went into a 45 degree slant downwards and to the left, looking as if it were held in the air by a string tied to the starboard wing. Wolf chewed his lip as he held onto the controls, willing the shuttle to just stay up in the air a bit longer.

The shuttle cleared the last of the trees, just before the tip of the port side wing scraped along the ground. That tore off what remained of the port side engine, as the ship pivoted on the scraping point. With a hard landing, the fuselage crashed to the ground, spinning around and sliding backwards in the wet grass before the whole ship finally to a halt. The starboard engine exhaled a cloud of black smoke, now completely ruined. A silence settled back over the clearing, disrupted only by the flowing wind and the pitter patter of rain drops on the cooling metal.

Wolf lay back in his seat, breathing a sigh of relief. Even though he needed to check on the case in back, he figured that he deserved a little break after going through all that that. Wolf melted into the chair, just listening to the soothing sounds of the rain falling and hissing as it struck the hot metal. The stormy winds blasted the tall grass back and forth in a swaying, relaxing motion. Or at least, where the crashing ship hadn't torn a gash in the ground. It was a shame he couldn't sit here for a bit longer and take a nap. Wolf just realized how tired he felt, considering he had been up for the last eighteen hours preparing and then executing this mission.

Willing himself on, he moved to unbuckle himself, but then a violent bout of nausea struck him. Wolf sat very still and waited for it to pass. However, it didn't pass. In fact, he felt it getting worse as something rose up his throat. Wolf turned his head towards the floor next to the seat, and let out a deluge of vomit. He sat there for a bit, but he could feel another helping coming up. More vomit on top of the first. He breathed hard, looking at the pile and wondering why he felt sick all of a sudden. Was it because of the crash? In any case, that seemed to be the last of the contents in his stomach. He didn't think any more would be coming up. Without any rags on hand, he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Stepping up to the door, Wolf pulled the handle but realized it was jammed shut. After some more yanks, the door opened up with a harsh screech of metal. Wolf gazed around the cabin, and felt his heart sink.

The case was gone. It hadn't made it to the surface with him.

"Shit…"

So that meant it had fallen out somewhere on the way down, and now it was somewhere out there in the goddamned jungle, and he was going to have to hunt it down. A fresh bout of nausea coursed through his system, as he looked through the open rear hatch. The rain poured down in curtains, looking almost like a waterfall. And staying by the ship was the only way to ensure he'd be found.

Well, screw all of that. It's one hundred million goddamned credits. I'm going out there.

He stepped back into the cockpit, snatching his laser rifle and helmet off of the floor. He checked the charge on the rifle, before slipping the helmet back on. Taking a deep breath, Wolf walked outside through the rear hatch and into the storm. The rain drops began pounding down hard on his helmet and shoulders. Within seconds it was as if he'd walked into the shower while fully clothed. Sighing, Wolf pulled the helmet closer to his brow and shut the visor, to keep the water from dripping into his one good eye. At least the rain gave him something to clean up with. He turned his mouth up to the sky, taking in the water before spitting it back out. That helped get rid of the aftertaste of the vomit. He also wiped the moisture off of his uniform and used it to clean his hands.

After his improvised cleanup, Wolf walked around to the front of what remained of the shuttle's body. His eye followed the trail of upturned earth, towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. Some of the trees had their tops ripped off by the crashing ship, showing him the path he'd taken while crashing to the ground. That would be the direction to go in. The case would have dropped out somewhere along his flight path. He walked across the clearing through the thick grass, having to push it aside since it grew to shoulder height. After a few minutes, he reached the tree line.

Pushing aside the first frond, Wolf found himself swallowed up by the vegetation of the jungle. Bushes, large leaves, and trees pressed in on all sides. He couldn't even see the clearing where he landed after just thirty seconds of walking in the foliage. In fact, at no point was he able to see farther ahead than a few meters. Finding anything in a jungle like this was going to be a nightmare, but he pressed onwards, keeping an eye out for a glint of the shiny case.

The ground turned upwards. Before long, Wolf discovered he was not walking up a grade, but a steep hill with running water and rock formations. The rain slicked the rocks to where he couldn't get a steady grip as he climbed over them. At one point he slid and fell backwards, falling into a nice, cold mud bog. The entire back side of his uniform got covered in the sticky goo.

"This is stupid!" he shouted to no one in particular, as he hauled himself out of the muck and started his climb again. "Goddamn you to hell Bill!"

If he hadn't shot up my ship, I wouldn't be stuck out here doing this. After I kill Fox, Bill's next.

Upwards he continued, fighting with the muck, the rain, and the thick brush, not to mention his general tiredness. By this point, water saturated his uniform. It weighed him down and chilled his body. Soon, Wolf felt as though he wore ice instead of cloth. But the thought of one hundred million credits kept him focused on his task.

Forty minutes of being cold, wet, tired, and miserable passed, with no sign of the case anywhere. The queasy feelings of nausea returned again, although this time Wolf had nothing to throw up. Again he wondered why he felt so sick all of a sudden. Was it everything he'd been through over the past couple dozen hours? A lack of sleep, sneaking into the base, being shot at by fighters, and then the crash landing? Or was it something he ate? Or had he caught a bug spreading through the Retribution? You couldn't get around living in tight quarters in space, after all, and most of his men weren't models of hygiene. Hell, it could be a combination of all of those things. Wolf just never remembered a time when he all of a sudden felt so sick during a mission.

But then Wolf saw something that lifted his spirits a little. Up ahead, the trees gave way to show a huge drop off. He could get a better vantage of his surroundings from there. Maybe he could even spot the case from up high. With sudden vigor in his legs, he rushed to the cliff's edge. But when he got to the vista, his wet clothes felt a lot colder, and the rifle felt a lot heavier. The storm reduced his visibility to about half a kilometer. Nothing but more and more trees lay out beneath him, an endless ocean of them.

A flood of distressing questions filled his mind. Was he still going the right way? What if he'd passed by the case due to poor visibility? Or what if he still had a much further walk to go to find it? Where was he in relation to the shuttle right now? How far had he walked?

As much as Wolf hated to admit it, he'd been very stupid to go out in the jungle and just hope to stumble across the case, especially while tired and sick. The thought of all that money just blinded him to logic and reason. Sighing, Wolf turned back around. He found a somewhat dry rock sheltered by some large palm fronds, and took shelter there. Wolf figured he'd rest for a bit, hike back to the shuttle, and wait for pickup. Then after pickup, he'd get all his grunts scouring the jungle for this case. Of course, Wolf prayed he wouldn't get lost on the way back.

Once he felt like he had his strength back, Wolf stood up, stretching his arms and stomping his feet to get some of the feeling back in them. The coldness had started to numb and dull the sensations in them. He stepped out from under the fronds, and took one last look from the cliff's top. Suddenly, the nausea washed over Wolf in waves. Not to mention he felt like someone was taking a drill to his head. The headache's pain felt most exquisite. And then his veins felt as if they were on fire. Moaning, Wolf dropped to his knees on the jungle floor, closing his eyes. The pain increased to an unbearable level, as Wolf curled up on the ground in an attempt to make it feel better. It didn't work. Wolf opened his eye again, but now he couldn't see anything but a swirl of green, brown, and gray. Everything became a blur in his vision.

Am I going to die?

Wolf never considered the possibility, but it felt very real right now. How disgraceful to die of the jungle flu or whatever it was instead of in combat. If he didn't make it back to the shuttle, the Retribution's crew would probably never find him. At any cost, he needed to get back now. He tried to haul himself back up off of the ground, but his arms and legs just refused to cooperate. They felt as though they were made of lead, and with about as much feeling. His blurry vision went dark, and he slipped under…

Slippy twisted and turned in his sleep, bundled up underneath every blanket he had in his cabin on the Great Fox II. He wore a few different night shirts at the same time, and a tent even covered the bed to trap more body heat. Slippy still felt cold and shivered relentlessly. He supposed there just wasn't much he could do, considering his four-legged ancestors were all cold-blooded.

"Stupid Aparoids…" Slippy muttered in his sleep, for about the thousandth time in the past two years.

If they hadn't lost the Great Fox during the Aparoid invasion, Slippy probably wouldn't be suffering through this right now. The Great Fox was custom built to order by Fox's father James McCloud, and consequently it was very expensive. The reward General Pepper gave them for defeating the Aparoids wasn't near enough to get an equal replacement.

So with their limited funds, Star Fox purchased a decommissioned Cornerian assault carrier and upgraded it instead of ordering a new custom mothership. Every day on this ship reminded Slippy of how much better the first Great Fox was in the old days. He had a lab on the old ship with custom-built machines, tools, and computers, and it took him years to put all of that together. All of it was gone with Great Fox Mk.1.

Plus on this new ship, Fox imposed all these new rations and limitations to save money for expenses and payments. Water rations, food rations, travel restrictions, heat turned down way too low, half the lights in the ship turned off, more rations, more limits, more cuts, on, and on, and on, and on, and on… Slippy knew Fox from childhood, but this was putting a strain on their friendship.

Plus, all of Fox's other wingmen left Star Fox a long time ago. Slippy was the only one left. Sure, the others had various other reasons for taking off, but the new rules on the ship just encouraged them to go sooner. Falco was a free spirit, and he hated being stuck with any group of people for too long. So he'd taken off, and he was probably running around with Katt or something right now. Peppy said he was getting too old to live the mercenary life style, so he took up a job with the Cornerian Navy. And Krystal… She'd requested to leave the team for three months to take care of something outside of Lylat. But that was over half a year ago now and there was no sign of her coming back. Slippy could see it was breaking Fox's heart waiting for her...

Beep beep beep!

Slippy groaned from the beeping noise, as he drew the covers tighter over himself. However, it continued to pound away at his ears. At first he thought it was his alarm clock, but then he looked at the clock on the nightstand. It showed 2:00 am. Then it hit him. It was the ship's intercom system, and that was most likely ROB calling for him. While the flesh-and-blood crew slept, ROB monitored the Great Fox II for them. Fox told ROB to only wake them for emergencies, so no doubt it was something very important. That realization got Slippy moving. He slid out of bed and pressed the button to accept the call. ROB's face shimmered into view on the small monitor.

"Slippy, apologies for waking you," he said in his usual droning voice, "but there is an urgent transmission from Corneria for you."

"From who?"

"Peppy, calling from the Corneria City Space Navy Base. I will patch it in."

ROB's face disappeared from the screen. As he waited for Peppy's face to take its place, Slippy wondered what this could be about. The hare's face popped into view a few seconds later. If Slippy wasn't afraid of what the news would be, he was now. Peppy looked short of breath, wild-eyed as his pupils darted around. He looked like he'd been in a hurry to make contact.

"Slippy?" he asked, his voice sounding rushed.

"Yeah, what?"

"It's your father. He's been shot."

Slippy blinked, his mouth dropping open slightly. Had he heard that right? "You said…he was shot?"

"Yes…about thirty minutes ago, and it happened on base too. I wanted to call you as soon as I found out. A couple of gunmen snuck into the base with a stolen shuttle, and they flew off. We don't know what they were doing here yet."

Slippy found himself at a loss for words, staring back at Peppy. He shook his head, to help get him out of the shock.

"Is my dad OK? How is he?"

"Don't worry, he's alive but unconscious. He's been shot twice in the back and he hit his head on something. I'm sorry but I haven't seen him personally yet, so I don't know his exact condition."

"Shot twice in the back…?" Slippy repeated, incredulous. His eyes narrowed, as he pictured what the hare just said. Who would do such a thing to someone like his father? A rare flash of anger tinged Slippy's words. "I want to know who did it!"

"We're still trying to find out ourselves..." Peppy sighed, as he looked at the floor. He appeared embarrassed that he didn't know more. As if to apologize, he turned back to the camera. "Listen… If you want to come see him, we're moving him to the base's hospital. I'll tell the tower to let the Great Fox II land at the airfield. I'll try to find out as much as I can in the meantime, OK?"

Slippy didn't respond. His mind couldn't process the idea that his father had been shot. He couldn't think of a more loving, caring person in the galaxy than his dad. He wouldn't hurt anyone over anything. Why…why would someone want to shoot a person like that? It made no sense. It was the last thing he expected to happen to his father.

"Slippy…" Peppy called out, moving his face closer to the camera. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah….yeah…" Slippy wiped the sweat from his brow. "It's just….I-I can't believe this at all."

"You're not the only one who's surprised. Anyway, just get over here. I think if your dad were awake, he'd want you here. The Great Fox II is near Corneria right now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is…" Slippy croaked out, a little tear running down his face. "Okay. I'll go get Fox. Thanks Peppy."

"No problem Slip. We'll see you soon."

The screen went dark. While Slippy knew that he should get going, he stood there staring at the blackness for a moment. He needed to sort through his feelings. It was an awful lot to take in with knowing that someone shot his father.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Slippy…can I come in?" He heard Fox's voice.

Slippy pressed the open button, and the cabin door whooshed open. Fox stood there, dressed in a tank top and pajama pants. Due to tossing and turning in bed, his trademark mohawk laid askew, and most of the rest of his fur looked matted and twisted. Nonetheless, Slippy felt very grateful to not be alone with his thoughts now.

"I was on my way to the bathroom, but then I heard you talking to Peppy." Fox rubbed the back of his head, looking embarrassed about the eavesdropping.

Slippy didn't care right now though.

"Did I hear right? Your dad got shot?"

"Y-yeah…" Slippy found it difficult to admit. Tears streamed his face in earnest. "I can't believe it."

Fox looked down at his friend, before he held his arms out. Slippy accepted the hug. The toad buried his face into Fox's chest, as the tears stained the dirty undershirt. It was like they were blood relatives.

"I've been here before Slip," Fox said. "This feels like when my dad went MIA."

The toad turned his face up to Fox, as he wiped away his tears. "Is it all right Fox? I know we're tight on fuel and all, but can we go see my dad?"

"Of course Slippy," Fox said it without hesitation, smiling at his friend. He punched commands into Slippy's wall mounted monitor, hailing the bridge again. "ROB, set a course for the CCSNB. Make it snappy."

A/N: You know, I thought having the text prewritten would allow me to post faster, but I sure do feel like I'm taking my sweet time about it. It's because I really want to post a chapter of Love is Blind, then post a Hazardous Contents chapter. That way the plots of both stories stay in my head, and they both get attention. But it sure does delay Hazardous Contents a lot more than it needs to.

Like with this chapter, I didn't change much at all compared to my old draft from a year and a half ago, or so. The biggest change is that Harry and Franco (along with the case) got blown out of the ship while they were in the warp zone, and Wolf followed the case from orbit down to Fortuna but lost track of it in the storm at the chapter's beginning. However, it really bothered me that a case could survive reentry and then a hard impact with the surface of a planet, with the contents being no worse for wear. I explained it away by saying "oh, the case is made of some super-duper science-fictiony metal that Corneria uses in its star ships" but I still didn't like this plot detail. So I decided to redo this scene a little bit where the case fell out of Wolf's ship after entering the atmosphere.

Aside from that, I basically just proofread it and reworded things where they felt awkward. Hope you enjoy. Also, hope you enjoy Star Fox getting some attention at last.