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Mission No. 7
Corneria
McCloud Residence
"Good Intentions"
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"No…"
Fox slowly shook his head, unable to accept or even comprehend what the photo implied. It was impossible that Andross had any personal connection to his parents. His mother was just one of thousands of Cornerians the mad scientist killed. The accident was impersonal, cold, calculated—or rather, miscalculated. All it took was one dangerous experiment gone wrong. There was nothing more between them. Nothing.
It was the same thing his father had insisted whenever Fox asked; that they were no different from thousands of other families grieving. But… no matter how vehemently he claimed it, Fox had always seen in his father's eyes the matter was far from impersonal. The way his fists clenched and his brow furrowed whenever he mentioned Andross or Vixy's death contradicted his words.
And now, this photo confirmed it.
He didn't want to believe it himself. The print was a physical oxymoron; Andross and his mother simply didn't go together. Every person Fox met he placed on a spectrum of good and evil, and these two were the far extremes. It was impossible to think that Vixy could ever wear a smile on her face in the presence of the man that murdered her.
Wait a minute… hadn't he seen this picture before?
Rushing back into the living room, Fox stopped by the table with the photo display. It wasn't one of the pictures he currently had out, but he tended to cycle through the photos since he couldn't fit them all at once. After a frenzied search through the drawer beneath the table, Fox found the picture he was looking for, and breathed a sigh of relief.
He held a near identical photo in his other hand now: one without a certain Dr. Andross. It was just Vixy and Vivian Hare in front of the technical institute they worked at.
Whoever did this was trying to play a trick on him, he realized. They'd simply edited Andross in as a practical joke—perhaps spying on him the entire time, looking for the perfect opportunity to deliver the prank item. Well, these tricksters couldn't pull one over on him; he had the original.
Smiling, he flipped the images over and compared their print dates to be sure.
The smile vanished.
"Shiiiiiit…"
Andross hadn't been edited in; he'd been edited out.
For the first time Fox noticed the original print had more writing scribbled on the back; he immediately bristled when he spotted the Cornerianized-Venomian characters. The phrase "Sekution 009" was scrawled on the blank side, along with an odd doodle: an intricate circle made from a single, unbroken line.
There was no mistake; someone meant for him to find this.
Liza! Perhaps she was involved in the plot. Maybe the answer lay with her…
Fox grabbed his phone and sat down on the couch, not caring that he was getting it sandy and wet. He searched her first name, description, and university, assuming an artist like her had to be posting her work on a social account—but no matter how long he searched, or with what terms, he turned up nothing.
Working up the courage, he even called the information desk at Westport University, claiming he was looking for a student who'd left her cell-phone, and he needed a way to contact her. The tired woman at the desk said she wasn't allowed to give out information on their students, and when he persisted she started getting suspicious, so he hung up. Well, that thread was a dead end—but perhaps Liza had fabricated the story completely.
Next he called Falco, once again not considering how late it was.
"Whaddya want?" the bird answered sharply. "I'm busy."
"Hey I'm sorry to bother you this late, but I really need to know something. Do you remember that girl I was with? The white vixen with the green hair: Liza?"
Falco's tone immediately softened. "Oh yeah, the scrubby-lookin' chick in the jersey smock. Hey, so did you score with her after I left? Maybe uh, give her an intimate modeling session while she painted you?"
Fox frowned, unamused. "Do you know who she is? Where'd you find her?"
"Heh, what happened? She run out on ya? Steal some shit? I hate it when they do that—"
"No, nothing like that. I uh, I realized I never asked for her number before she left."
"Hmm… Can't say I've met her before tonight, either. Have you, Abby?"
Fox heard a muffled exchange before Falco's voice returned. "Yeah, she doesn't know Liza either, which is weird. All I can say is, if she wasn't some celebrity, and she's not from the sorority carwash I snagged the rest of the girls from, she's probably just some random chick who crashed the party. Finding her's a lost cause, you're better off—Hohhhh god…! Look, Fox, I'll have to call you back, okay? Sorry-I-can't-answer-anymore-calls-tonight-bye!"
And with that, Falco abruptly hung up.
Fox blew air through his lips like a horse. One teammate down, two more to go…
Next he texted Slippy, asking if he was still awake. He anxiously got up and paced about the room, waiting for a response.
Eventually his phone vibrated on the couch and he rushed back to it, snatching it up.
just climbed into bed. What's up?
Quickly he went to send Slippy Liza's photo, then had a heart attack when he remembered she was naked in it. He made a fast crop well above her waist and sent that instead.
Can you find a girl for me based off her photo?
🌄23180704_221559. apeg 2.6 MB
(…)
u cropped this
Well how would having her butt help?
ya i thought that was y
u would be surprisd how far facial recog tech has come
Face tech doesn't work with asses
ur phone unlocks 4 ur face, doesnt it?
Fuck you.
So, can you find her?
i got some software
if she has pics of her face on socials it'll find them
but ur hilarous if u think ill help you find
pics 4 ur porn cllection 2nite
She's not a model!
I met her at a party today and forgot to
get her number before she left.
Just need a way to contact her.
(…)
i still feel uncomf helping you stalk some girl
ask falco instead.
(…)
(…)
(…)
zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…
I'm not stalking her! This is important!
I can't tell you everything, but I'll leave
it at this. She showed up at my party today
and brought an old photo of my fami (1/2)
ly. I need a way to contact her to find
out if she has more of them. Please Slip,
this means a lot to me! (2/2)
(…)
well im afraid 2 ask how delivering a family
photo ended with her getting naked 4 u but ok
i'll crawl the net for her pics tmrrw and
get back w u
Thanks Slip!
You're the best!
(…)
in the meantime, i can haz full pic?
No.
XP
Fox sighed, glad he was making some progress. If Slippy couldn't track a face down, no one could—not even the government. He knew a girl like her had to be on social media somewhere—if not for her gorgeous artwork, then at least for her, well…
He navigated his way to Peppy's contact widget. If anyone still living knew about this photo's history, Peppy did—and he had a lot of explaining to do.
His finger hovered over the call button, but he paused, for once exercising some self-restraint. No, he couldn't call the old man at this hour of the night. He needed to visit him in person; he wanted to be face-to-face with Peppy when he showed him the photograph so he could see the expression he made.
Reluctantly Fox shut the lights off and bundled up in a blanket on the couch—just like he'd done the previous night. Only this time he struggled to fall asleep. His mind kept racing with thoughts of the strange vixen he'd met that day, along with the photo of Vixy, Vivian, and Andross. Whenever he'd get bored or hit a dead end thinking about one puzzle, he'd just jump back to the other one, repeatedly looping between the two all through the night. His chance to sleep quickly waned, only ever getting a few winks in before he woke up and hurriedly checked the time to see if he could leave for Peppy's yet.
Finally it was after 5:00 in the morning, and Fox could stand it no longer. Sleep or no sleep, he had to visit Peppy now.
Yawning and rubbing his aching eyes, he slipped off the sofa. As long as Peppy wasn't up yet, he might as well take the chance to care for himself.
Walking into the kitchen like a zombie, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and milk, then plopped down at the table. He tried to force himself to eat it, but… he just felt too anxious. He kept glancing at the clock, willing the minutes to pass faster so he could leave. The butterflies in his stomach wouldn't settle down enough to make room for food. Every bite felt like cramming his belly to the bursting point, and each small spoonful might be the straw that made the camel barf.
Sighing, he let his spoon clatter into the bowl and shoved it away. He held his face in his hands, but his eyes wandered up to see a potted plant sitting under the windowsill. It was… withering, dying from lack of water. If he couldn't even keep himself fed, how could he maintain one miserable plant?
Giving up, he dressed and brushed his teeth before rushing out the door.
Outside it was still dark; the sun had yet to rise over the west coast's mountains. Given Fox's license was revoked, he had to rent yet another self-driven hovercar, and his personal stash was dwindling smaller with each expenditure.
A half hour later he arrived at Peppy's west-coast residence. In stark contrast to his own, Peppy's house was quaint and unassuming. The small, one-story dwelling sat in a well-kept garden the hare liked to tend on weekends.
Fox rushed to the front porch and pressed the doorbell. He rang several times, but Peppy didn't answer. Impatiently he alternated pounding knocks and additional rings, but when he still didn't answer he decided to take matters into his own hands. Reaching beneath a loose brick—not under the doormat or atop the ledge—Fox grabbed the spare key and let himself in.
Clutching the pair of photographs in his hand, Fox stormed down the dim-blue halls. He burst through the door to Peppy's room, finding him snoring obliviously beneath the covers.
"Peppy!" He violently shook the hare. "Peppy wake up, this is important!"
His godfather snorted. "Huh? Wh-what?!"
Fox flicked the light switch on and shoved the photo in Peppy's face.
"Explain this, Peppy."
"Fox?! Gosh darnit, it's not even six o'clock yet! This had better be important…"
The hare rubbed his eyes and stared at the picture, preparing himself for Fox's current shenanigans of the day. After he realized what it was, he looked at Fox in exasperation, raising an eyebrow.
"You woke me up to show me a picture of Vixy and my deceased wife? Granted, it is a sweet photo—"
Barely able to contain himself, Fox handed him the second picture. "Okay, how about this?"
Peppy squinted and rolled his eyes. "They're the same picture. It was taken at the Cornerian Technical Institute. Just my wife, your mother Vixy, and…"
Fox flipped the ripped piece back into place, revealing the third person.
At once Peppy caught himself, eyes widening. "Fox, where did you—?!"
"I found it in a box addressed to me, on the beach outside my house," he half-lied. "The only other writing—besides my name on the box—is this phrase one the back." He flipped it over, showing Peppy the text and strange symbol.
"Sekution 009… Fox, this is Venomian writing! It's obviously just some Androssian trying to trick you into doing something dangerous!"
"But it's Cornerianized script, not Venomian characters—a Venomian didn't necessarily write it."
"Unless they were just making it easier for you to understand it."
Peppy got up and threw a bathrobe over his pajamas, beginning to pace about the room.
"It's bad news if these individuals found where you live—but who coulda told them?" He turned to Fox. "Who else knows your address?"
Fox didn't want to admit to Peppy he impulsively slept with a very odd vixen the previous night, so he decided to play along.
"Let's see… That would narrow it down to Fara, Falco, Slippy, Pepper and the whole Cornerian military, the mailman, my therapist, a bunch of neighbors, actors, actresses, singers, rappers… you…"
Peppy glared at him. "Very funny. Well, I knew buying that extravagant mansion was basically painting a big fat target on your back. You shoulda laid low! Now every Venomian who survived the fall probably knows where you live. You better report this to the authorities and have this individual tracked down."
"What if I'm onto something?"
"Ridiculous! It's just some Venomian trying to lead you into a trap—or he's trying to sow discord between you and Corneria."
Fox blinked. "What would I have against Corneria?"
Peppy opened his mouth to answer, but caught himself. He launched into a pace again. "It's best if you forget the whole thing. You are not going on some wild goose chase for someone you don't even know—especially when they could be a Venomian."
"But she wasn't a Venomian!" Fox blurted out.
"She?" The rabbit squinted at him suspiciously. "There's a woman involved?"
Fox cursed himself for rushing to her defense so quickly, but he couldn't take back his mistake. Haltingly, he confessed. "She was one of the guests Falco invited to the party yesterday. We… we talked and took a walk on the beach."
"So let me get this straight; Falco invited a bunch of strange girls to your party, unsupervised?"
"They were just a bunch of college girls who wanted to meet us or something—nothing more. Falco was only trying to take my mind off Fara after she left—"
"Why, the nerve of that bird! I know he came from some criminal biker gang on Zoness, but I hoped he wouldn't blow all his money on escorts and fast women! Ohh, the thought of those succubuses groping their paws all over my godson… Fox, you can't trust girls like that! You know you have to protect yourself from gold-diggers and trashy women!"
He snorted. "What do you mean, 'gold-diggers?' Because of you I don't have any 'gold' left to dig!"
Peppy turned back to Fox, placing his hands on his hips. "Well she didn't know that! Those kinds o' women all predators, Fox: leeches of the worst kind. She'd suck you dry in a heartbeat!"
"That's what she did…" Fox mumbled under his breath.
Peppy narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"I said she did suck me dry!" he shouted.
The hare grimaced. "Doggonit Fox, you don't have to be so vulgar! Seems to me you've been spending too much time around that hot shot buzzard. He's a bad influence, you know! You hardly had a rebellious streak in you until we added him to the team. Well if I find that bird crashing your place again, I'll fricassee him!"
"Quit stalling, Peppy. You're just trying to avoid the subject. You still haven't explained this:"
He waved the photo in front of Peppy's face, forcing him to stop. The hare scowled at the picture, then turned away. His nose and whiskers twitched.
"It was a mistake holding onto that photo. We thought we could simply cut Andross out and keep it around, when we really shoulda shredded it and been done with the whole thing. It ain't healthy hanging onto the past."
"Explain it, Peppy!"
The hare began to sweat and wring his hands, anxiously glancing around the room. However, it was clear Fox wouldn't let him leave till he gave some answers.
Sighing, Peppy sat down on the bed. "Alright Fox, you win… But I'm warning you, you're gonna regret having this knowledge. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but both your parents and their killer are dead, so it won't do you any good to go digging up their graves. It's useless now, but… if you insist." He looked up into Fox's eyes. "Take a seat, son."
Anticipation killing him, Fox plopped down at the foot of Peppy's bed. "I'm ready."
"You're not, but I'll tell ya anyway. You remember Sector Y?"
"That's where we engaged the Shogun fleet after the battle for Corneria."
"Do you remember what it looks like?"
"Giant Y-shaped nebula. Kinda obvious."
"It's not natural," Peppy said flatly.
"Huh?"
"Don't you think it's rather out of place? I giant green letter Y? It only came into existence eight years ago—that ring a bell?"
The todd's eyes widened. "That was when Andross killed my mom and thousands of other Cornerians. You're not saying—?"
"I am. They're all connected. You see, Vivian and your mother both worked for Andross back when he was a bigshot in Cornerian R&D. At the time they were tasked with constructing the largest satellite ever attempted. The problem was, Andross employed some rather… risky means of powering it. He expressly defied his Cornerian superiors and his colleagues—mainly, Vivian and Vixy—forging ahead with some experimental energy source. Well, accidents are the direct consequence of invention. If you create the car, you create the car crash. If you create the plane, you create the plane crash."
Peppy looked Fox in the eye. "Andross invented the Bolse satellite. He also invented the Bolse meltdown."
"Bolse? Like the one we destroyed orbiting Venom?"
Peppy solemnly nodded. "The Bolse project had started years earlier under Cornerian direction—but when Andross was exiled, he resumed production on the satellites by himself. Fox, his previous attempt is what killed our loved ones. Because of his blatant disregard for safety, my Vivian and your Vixy are dead today. Worst part of it is, they worked together—and a good deal, too. Vivian and Vixy were two of the brightest Cornerian scientists, and Andross knew it. They all shared a mutual admiration for one another, even if towards the end Andross became dangerously obsessed with his work."
"My mom… worked for Andross…" Fox repeated in disbelief.
Peppy waved his hand. "But as I said, all of that's behind us now. It's in the past, all loose ends tied. I wouldn't worry yourself about it anymore. You have a bright future ahead of you; I'd focus on that instead."
Fox looked up at Peppy again, his curiosity far from assuaged. "You mentioned Andross was using a dangerous fuel source, didn't you? What was it? What caused the explosion?"
Peppy stared back at him, startled. He blurted out, "It had something to do with…" but then trailed off. "Nope, can't say I know."
"You have to know! Your wife worked for him! You literally were on the verge of telling me!"
"It's highly classified, Fox. It's government secrets. Neither Vivian nor your mother were allowed to talk about their work, and there were rumors they'd erase your memories if you ever found out."
"Oh my flipping…" Fox stood up and began pacing the room. "Well, how many Bolse satellites were there?"
Peppy's ear wiggled. "What does that have to do with any—?"
"I mean, if Sector Y's nebula was caused by a Bolse meltdown, what about Sector Z? Or Sector X? Didn't the same thing happen there?"
Peppy opened his mouth to answer, but he could only ever get a few words into an explanation before he clamped it back shut again.
"Like, holy shit Peppy, there's at least three of them, right? Four counting the one we destroyed over Venom. How long have Corneria and Andross been racing to build these things? They must be pretty important for them to try over-and-over again, even after horrible accidents like that."
The hare shook his head in a warning fashion. "I'm telling ya Fox, drop it. You have no business prying into secret projects like this. Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?"
Fox clenched his fists and half-shouted at Peppy. "Because it's how my parents died! I need to know everything that happened. Sure, they're both gone. I avenged them myself. It didn't bring them back; I didn't expect it to. But… it's driving me insane! I need to learn as much about my parents as I can, before that information is lost forever! I need more closure before I move on."
"Fox, it's none of your business—"
"Of course it's my business!" Fox sat down on the bed next to Peppy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Peppy, look. This is the most driven I've felt in the past year. There's something going on here, and as the leader of Star Fox, it's my job to find out what. There's more to my parents' legacy than meets the eye. Isn't this what you wanted? For me to continue Star Fox?"
"No, Fox, you don't understand—"
"Then what the hell have you been nagging me to do for the past year? The moment I rediscover meaning in life, the moment I find something to strive for, all of a sudden you're shutting me down?"
"Alright, you got me there!" Peppy raised his voice. "But it's a futile venture. You won't find anything—at all. The Bolse satellites are top-secret military projects created with only the best of intentions. Even a war hero like yourself wouldn't be granted access. Corneria will be a dead end!"
Fox thought it over for a minute.
"Then I'll just have to try Venom."
Peppy's eyes widened. "You don't mean—?"
Fox held up the photo, pointing to the text on the back. "Section 9. If my mother worked with Andross before she died, there may still be parts of her research in the labs. They haven't been fully explored yet—even a year after his defeat. Maybe Section 9 refers to a specific compound there! I could get some work providing security for the labs and use my clearance to gain access to it!"
"Fox, going to Venom is even worse! You have no idea what horrors still lie there."
"But my parents did. They lived it. They died because of it. I may have gotten revenge, Peppy, but I still need closure. If you won't give me the answers, I'll just have to go to Venom and get them myself."
"Fox, you gotta understand, I'm doing this for your own good! Trust me when I say I have the best of intentions here. No good will come from snooping around such things because some Venomian skank is trying to mess with you!"
But Fox wouldn't accept that. He didn't want to believe Liza had given all of herself to him for some stupid trick.
"Peppy… I think my mother might still be alive. I saw her. It was just a glimpse, a vision of some sort—maybe a hallucination. Hell, maybe it really was her. I heard her voice, too. If there's any possible chance she may still be alive, I need to look into it. Do you think… do you think she could still be out there? Could she have survived Sector Y? After all, you never saw her body, right? At the funeral it was an empty casket, and an empty grave…"
But the hare shook his head all through Fox's question. "Fox… part of growing up is learning to move on. I know what you're feeling right now. I was destroyed when I heard my Vivian died the same way. For a while I still thought I could hear her voice; I imagined her footsteps walking through the house. I missed her so much—but that didn't stop me from letting go when I needed to."
The vulpine's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Just because you've given up doesn't mean I will, old man."
Peppy scowled at him, but was surprised by the look of determination in Fox's eyes. At once he realized nothing he could say would extinguish it. So instead he just sighed deeply. "Alright, son. If you feel so passionately about it, I can't stop you from going. But one day, Fox…
"…You'll learn not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
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Her eyes fluttered open.
There was only an all-encompassing, blinding light.
The figures dressed in white robes were placing her body onto a raised table.
The metal felt cold against her fur.
She shivered, but that was all the movement her muscles could afford.
Noticing her attempts to move, they strapped her down, though in her state it was unnecessary.
Once restrained, they surrounded her, huddling around the table and breathing through white veils.
From every side came strange noises: high-pitched beeps and whirs threatening to drive her insane.
Between their downward-tilted heads and jewel-studded eyes, there hovered a sun.
The light dimmed whenever her jailers moved in front of it or reached over her head.
It was a cold, harsh light, but the blindness it caused helped burn her fears away.
It gave her something to focus on, ignoring what they did to her.
"Administer 20 cc's of krystal lysergic acid."
Pain.
She twisted her head to the side and saw a milky cylinder pressed into her blue-furred arm.
At first it didn't look like it was even touching her, but a glint of silver revealed a needle protruding from her flesh.
She gasped and her heart began to pound in her chest.
The lines on the black screens danced in a frenzy.
A new head loomed between herself and the cold sun, looking at her upside down.
It sighed.
"Vixy would be so proud to see how far I've come."
The lines began to level out again.
The vixen's stomach turned to ice.
Heartbeat slowing, blood cooling.
Shadow claimed her vision.
Cold.
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The door to the courtroom swung open.
Captain Bill Grey marched in at the end of a column of high-profile prisoners. They weren't the typical bunch of Venomian lowlifes; the normal degenerate scum that made up Andross's ranks. Besides Grand Admiral Dōnatsu—a rather brutish-looking crocodile—the rest were Andross's advisers, lead researchers, and program overseers, who skewed heavily to the intellectual side. In fact, during their preliminary psych evaluations, most scored incredibly high on the IQ portion.
Bill herded the prisoners into the courtroom, a spacious and lavishly-decorated hall that almost resembled a theater. After all, the trials were just as much a platform for sending a message as they were to serve actual justice.
The one thing the room lacked, however, was windows—but even if it had them, viewers would only see the harsh Venomian wasteland outside.
How do you punish someone who had already been exiled to Venom? Bill asked himself. Where was there left to send them?
He sat in the front row with the prisoners, just before the open space in the courtroom floor that separated the onlookers from the judges' bench. Representatives from every country and planet in Lylat sat at the table, waiting to pass sentence on the Venomians; for this was the first series of cases tried by the newly created Interplanetary Criminal Court.
If Andross accomplished one good thing, Bill thought, it was uniting all of Lylat in condemnation of such evils. The question now was, could they preserve that unity? Was mutual hatred of something enough for peace?
While staring around the room full of military personnel, legal advisers, holovision crews, and foreign ambassadors, the canine's eyes caught General Pepper seated at the center of the table of judges. The general, wearing his red dress uniform, nodded curtly to Bill and gave him an encouraging smile. Bill nodded back politely. It was an honor to attend the war criminals' trial and finally see them brought to justice. It was even more of an honor that Pepper had promoted Bill Grey to the rank of captain and placed him in charge of guarding them.
General Pepper looked left and right down the row of interplanetary judges, who all signaled their readiness. Pepper banged his gavel against the table several times, drawing an immediate hush of silence in the chaotic room. It was already the third day of the hearing, so the audience knew the drill well.
"The Interplanetary Criminal Court is now in session," Pepper said in his usual blustery voice. "May God save Lylat and this tribunal. The defendants are hereby accused of a multitude of crimes, including but not limited to: conspiracy to commit war crimes and crimes against Lylatian kind. These crimes include the performing of medical experiments on prisoners of war and innocent civilians of occupied planets. The defendants committed or oversaw the carrying out of countless wanton killings, cruelties, atrocities, and other cold-hearted acts. These individuals are accused of the mass murder of prisoners of war and civilians of occupied planets on the sole basis of elderly age, mental illness, fatal illness, deformity, and so forth, in nursing homes, hospitals, mental asylums, jails, death camps, and scientific laboratories. If found guilty, the prisoners will be executed.
"How does each defendant plead?"
One by one, the Venomian scientists and heads of state stood and repeated, "Not guilty," before taking a seat again. Among their ranks Bill recognized the highest profile Venomians that had survived the war: Albert Sifaka, Minister of Industry; Herman Guereza, Minister of Security; Kāru Dōnatsu, who briefly became Supreme Commander of Venom after Andross' death; and Dr. Karl Bonobo, Andross's chief physician.
…But someone was missing.
As he surveyed the row of prisoners, he suddenly realized Dr. Wernher Von Liebegute was not present. Strange, he thought. He had apprehended the scientist himself. Bill's catch was at least partially responsible for Pepper promoting him to captain. Surely Liebegute needed to pay for his crimes as well? For what he did to Lieutenant Russet, Bill would gladly be the one to drop the trapdoor at his gallows; the reason he'd requested transfer to the courtroom was so he could have the honor himself. Perhaps they were saving him for a later trial…
When the last defendant had plead "not guilty", Pepper continued.
"Very well. The Tribunal is ready to begin the trial. Do any of you have a preliminary statement prepared before we proceed?"
At once Dr. Karl Bonobo shot to his feet: a simian with oil-slick hair. He wore a headset and a microphone like the rest of the prisoners and guards, as was necessary for his words to be translated.
"Yes we do, Mr. General," he said with a snide tongue. "I wish for everyone observing this court, including the judges, the representatives, and even the masses of audiences watching from around the Lylat System, to know that everything we did was ultimately for the benefit of all. Nothing we did was without good intentions.
"Progress, as you know, comes with sacrifice. Only backwards-thinking individuals worry about the risks. What we did was not easy, and we took no pleasure in bringing about many necessary deaths. But a quick jab of the needle is necessary for a future full of health. One must place the benefit of the many before the wellbeing of the few. If there are impurities in the population, is it not right to weed them out before they spread and infect more? If there is disease, is it not the noblest act to sacrifice oneself to find a cure? If there is to be pain, then better to concentrate it all on one individual than to spread it across the entire population. Really, you Cornerians are no different."
At this Bill openly scoffed, which caused Dr. Bonobo to cast him a sideways glance as he talked. The bulldog felt an icy chill worm through his spine when their eyes met.
"I bring to the court's attention the many similar experiments previously carried out by Corneria and her sister nations on unwilling or uninformed subjects. Their methods were the same as our own: infect a few prisoners or populations of lesser species with disease, then come up with a cure to save untold millions, for example. The prosecution's own expert Dr. Ivy adheres to this philosophy. In fact, we Venomian scientists have kept an eye on his experiments and modeled our own after them. It was all in the name of science and progress. Everything we did was justified, as it was for the collective benefit of Lylat."
With his speech concluded, Dr. Bonobo seated himself and crossed his arms in satisfaction. Many of his fellow prisoners quietly congratulated him, and an air of smugness descended over the captured Venomians because of his small victory.
Murmurs broke out in the courtroom, and Bill looked worriedly at Pepper. He wondered if giving him a platform to speak had been a mistake. Several Venomians from the previous day's trials had used similar tactics to cast doubt on the moral purity of their accusers. While Grand Admiral Dōnatsu, for instance, was charged with indiscriminate attacks on merchant vessels, the charges were dropped when he pointed out Cornerians had committed the same act. Corneria's tenuous allies in Eladard had tried to pin the blame for a massacre of political prisoners on Venom, but likewise came away unsuccessful.
He clenched his fists and glared at Dr. Bonobo. He knew what he was trying to do in front of their interplanetary audience; he wouldn't get away with this clever stunt.
But Pepper's stoic expression hadn't changed once during his speech, reminding Bill why he admired the general more than anyone else in the world.
"Your accusations are baseless and irrelevant," Pepper said. "Cornerian physicians operate with the utmost care of the subjects in mind. They follow proper scientific methodology and can show direct benefits from the experiments. Yours, on the other hand…"
Pepper glanced sideways at the prosecution, which turned on a holographic projector near one of the adjacent walls.
"Yours are purposeless, cruel, maniacal, and cold."
All eyes turned to the holoscreen, which began rolling a slideshow of images taken during and after the war. Some were from occupied planets. Others were taken in Venomian prison camps and laboratories.
The grotesque images instantly silenced the courtroom.
That shut the Venomians up. Gone were their smug grins and cocky whispers. They began uncomfortably squirming on their bench.
Bill stared straight on, already numbed by what he'd seen in the labs firsthand.
The rest of the onlookers were horrified. Some looked away. Some cried. Others left the room altogether.
"Long live Andross!"
All eyes turned to the prisoners. In their center stood Minister Guereza, a small flash of white showing as he raised his hand to his mouth.
"NO!"
Bill and the other guards rushed to the fallen primate, who now lay convulsing on the floor. The prisoners parted ways to let them through, but otherwise showed no reaction. One way or another, they were bound for the same fate.
When Bill reached the Venomian minister he was already dead. No pulse. No breath. The poison had done its quick work.
The last thing he thought of while gripping the primate's lifeless, cold hand was how strange it was to be so disturbed by the death of a heinous, Venomian war criminal.