One Year Later

General Cornelius Pepper stood behind a podium on a raised stage, greeting a large crowd. Everywhere he looked he saw colorful bunting draped over railings, streamers draped from column to column, and clouds of confetti and flower petals swirling in eddies about the marble floor.

Pepper's spirits rose upon seeing such a turnout for the occasion. The audience stretched all the way down the green lawn, so far in fact that the newly-erected war monument behind him couldn't cover them all in its magnificent shadow. More numerous still, however, were the lush fields decorated with white marble headstones, appearing like snow peppering mountaintops. The government had elected to give every deceased soldier a proper grave in the fields outside the capital—the silver, gleaming skyline of which dominated the northern horizon Pepper faced.

"Dear citizens and soldiers of Corneria," his voice boomed over the throng, "we are gathered here today to witness the inauguration and first observance of the new national holiday: V-Day. Today marks one full year since Andross's death, the fall of the Venomian Empire, and the end of the Lylat Wars. Due to the stubborn resistance of our people, and due to the unparalleled bravery and self-sacrifice of our soldiers, the Cornerian nation not only weathered Andross's invasion, but completely repelled it, pushing the savage forces of evil back to the desolate planet of Venom and defeating them once and for all. Without the courage of our men and women, Lylat would be suffering in a reign of darkness, and we simply would not be here to celebrate this day. It is through Corneria's blood, Corneria's sweat, and Corneria's tears that Lylat remains a free and prosperous system! Together, we not only defeated the enemy; we struck a blow for liberty throughout the world! And it is all thanks to you."

The crowd erupted in cheers, some unable to resist tossing more handfuls of confetti in the air.

Pepper raised his gloved hand, quieting them. "While today is a day of victory and celebration, it is also a day of somber mourning and reflection. It is safe to say every one of us lost a friend, spouse, or family member during Venom's treacherous scourge. Though we live on, let us not forget the selfless soldiers who paid the ultimate price so we may have freedom. It is to the men and women who did not come back that we dedicate this monument."

Pepper walked over to a row of decorative cages at the back of the stage.

"Like everyone, their bodies return to the field—but their eternal souls cannot be held down. Even now they continue to fly above us, amongst the clouds, and amongst the stars."

Pepper stopped in front of one of the cages. Grasping the door, he turned to view the other officers standing by the rest of the cages, and together they synchronized opening them.

In a blizzard-like flurry, a swarm of white butterflies exploded outward, their wings blinking in the sunlight. They scattered in every direction, taking off over the crowd and fields as they sailed high on the gentle breeze.

Pepper returned to his podium, addressing the crowd again. "Now I'd like to introduce to you a special guest—one who was personally instrumental in the fall of Venom, and one I'm sure all of you haven't forgotten. He valiantly intervened in this city's darkest moment, chased the forces of evil back to the hell from which they came, and served justice upon the madman responsible, avenging all of us at once. Though young, he is a skilled pilot, a disciplined soldier, a fearless leader, and an inspiration to us all."

But before he could get any further, a finger tapped him on the shoulder, and a whisper tickled his ear.

Covering the mic, he turned around to find his public affairs officer looking nervously at him, twisting his hat in his hands.

"Yes?" Pepper hissed in annoyance.

"Uh, sir, about McCloud…"

The hound leaned in closer, allowing the officer to whisper in his ear—then his hand accidentally slipped from the mic.

"He's WHERE?!"

Mission No. 3

Corneria
Los Pegasos Outskirts

"Enter Star Fox"

ㅤ⧬ㅤ

"WOOOO, YEAAAAAH!"

Fox bounced behind the wheel of an absurdly-large monster truck, feeling the exhilaration from the wind tearing through the windows. To him it felt more exciting than flying an Arwing; its movement was more restricted, but at least he could actually feel and appreciate how fast the vehicle travelled. Killjoy G-diffusers, he thought. Fox loved the barriers, the restrictions: the fact that he couldn't go wherever he wanted, instead at the mercy of elements outside his control. Paradoxically he found the lack of freedom liberating.

And the fact that he only wore a pair of boxers might've helped, too.

Fox reached out the window, feeling the wind rifle through the tufts of fur on his arm. He slapped the outside of the vehicle's door, feeling how slick and new it felt. He had only rented the beast on a whim earlier that morning. Of course, shortly after getting his paws on the truck, he took the liberty of customizing it in his own image. He spray-painted his team's winged fox logo on the hood and driver's door, but by the time he got to the passenger side he was frustrated with how his artwork came out (and also a little more inebriated, which had led to him renting the truck in the first place), so he gave up and sprayed a crudely-shaped dick over it instead.

The truck crested a sandy hill and launched into the air; the front half of the vehicle tipped upwards as the rear wheels rotated down.

"AAAAH!" the fennec strapped in the passenger seat screamed. But Fox ignored her cry, closing his eyes and letting his body rise out of the seat. During that brief instant it seemed like time had stopped, and they were floating weightless in mid-air.

Then… they began to descend, and that blissful sinking feeling Fox chased so much set in.

The truck's rear wheels touched down first, causing the front end to snap back to the ground as well. The two foxes were thrown forward in their seats, but their belts caught them and whipped their torsos back. Boy would Fox sue that last dune if it gave them whiplash.

"Whassamatter Fara?" he slurred, pulling the truck into a tight series of donuts. "Too exciting for yah? I thought you tested shhhips for Momelyn. Er, your mommy, Edelyn. Hehe…"

Fara's grip on his shoulder and armrest turned her knuckles white; she was hanging on for dear life at this point.

"Fox, please! Stop this thing right now! You're drunk!"

"Aw don't be such a… a… party-pooper," he teased her. But when he went for the beer bottle next to his seat Fara grabbed his wrist. She nearly shouted in his face this time.

"I'm not enjoying this one-bit, Fox! Pull over before someone gets hurt!"

Fox wrenched his hand and the bottle free, but he overcompensated and spilled some out the window when his arm flew back. "No one'sss gonna get hurt! Now leggo, there'ss a highway comin' up."

Fara snapped her head around to stare at the desert in front of them. "Oh no," she whimpered.

While the road was out of the way on Corneria's west coast, there still were ample motorists for Fox to terrorize. Fara covered her eyes with her paws a mere instant before Fox dangerously merged onto the highway.

When Fox noticed her hiding, he waved a hand in front of her face. "Oh, you can come out now. Isssall okay."

Fara tentatively peeked through her fingers, then let out a relieved sigh that they hadn't crashed.

…Only to notice they had turned onto the highway and were headed towards oncoming traffic.

"No, Fox! Why?! Just… why?!"

"Isss juss like old times!" he exclaimed, leaning forward over the wheel and licking his lips. The incoming cars and trucks had taken on the form of asteroids and space debris, and he wove back and forth between the lanes to dodge them. The other vehicles blared their horns and swerved off the road as he passed.

When Fox seemed to challenge a truck to a game of chicken, Fara took matters into her own hands. She dove across Fox's lap and grabbed the steering wheel, wrenching it around to pull them back off the road.

"Hey-heyyy! Now's not the time to get frisssky," Fox laughed as he playfully batted Fara back. Then after hiccupping he belted out, "Faaara take the whee-ee-eeel!"

His breath washed over the vixen's face, and she gagged at the strong odor of alcohol. She gave up controlling the wheel and hunkered down in her own seat again.

"Fine, if you're gonna get nashhty about it, I won't play in traffic!" Fox's face took on a dark expression and he leered at Fara from the corner of his eye.

In stark contrast to the underwear-clad vulpine, Fara was formally dressed in a purple gown and green silk wrap, her makeup all done-up for the special event.

Voice shaky, she said, "Alright Fox, now pull over to the shoulder and let's swap—you know, like a Macbethan fire drill! I'll drive you home and help you shower, and I think we still have some detox pills lying around. If we hurry, we may be able to catch another flight to the capital before the ceremony ends—"

"I don' wanna!"

"But Fox, you promised Pepper! It's the very first V-Day ceremony! The people are waiting to honor you today."

"I don' care. I've had enough of thossse dumb ceremonies. Iss been a year and I still can't escape 'em; there'sss a new one every week! I killed that damn monkey, I got my pay, I got my fame; can't they just leave me alone already?"

The wailing of sirens finally reached their ears, and Fara sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god!"

Fox startled upon hearing the noise. He checked the mirrors and craned his neck to see behind them.

"Aw shit! Bogeys on our sssixth!" He shook Fara's leg to get her attention. The fennec meanwhile leaned out the window and flagged down the police.

Fox desperately searched over the controls on the driver's side. "Now how d'ya get thiss behemoth to roll?"

"Fox?" Fara cooed in a pleasant voice (though if he'd been soberer he would've realized it was close to snapping). "The police are here; they just want to help you! Why don't you be a darling and pull over?"

Fox's jaw hung open a moment as he processed. "Oh, it's just the mutts. Prolly wanna pin some more medals on me, heh-heh. Well lettem have their fun! It'sss how they get their rockshh off…"

At long last Fox slammed on the brakes and brought the horrible carnival ride of a monster truck to a halt. Fara opened her door and dropped to the ground, promptly vomiting on the dried soil. Fox's foot caught beneath his seat when he tried dismounting, and he ended up falling face-first into the sand five feet below, sending up a mushroom-cloud of dust. When he looked up he saw two pairs of Cornerian police boots planted in front of him.

"Well boys, howzit goin'? Just breaking in Star Fox's new vehicle: the Foxster Truck. Er, the Desert Fox? Maybe you can help me think up a name…"

The two canines stared pitifully down at him, with one slapping a hand over his face.

"Well, let's hope the media doesn't get wind of this…"

A few hours later, Fox sat with his head pressed up against a pair of prison bars, his ear wedged between them. He was finally sober again… painfully… and trying to make out the last few words of a conversation taking place around the corner.

"Yes sir… yes sir, I promise it won't happen again."

A hare's voice, the twang of which Fox recognized well.

"No sir, I'll make sure of it this time. I-I know you can't keep pulling favors like this. I'm ready to take extreme measures. Trust me, I have it all figured out… What? No, I'll let it be a surprise, but I will have a talk with him now. Gee, thanks Pepper, I owe you one—'fact I owe you a lot! But remember, Lylat owes this boy a whole lot more… What? There won't be a Lylat much longer if he keeps—well I don't think it's that bad sir, but I will put a stop to it. And I'm sure Fox will be extremely sorry for missing the ceremony when he regains his senses. Okay, I'll try to drop by sometime soon. Here, I'll put the sergeant back on…"

At those last words, Fox scurried away from the bars and sat down on the cell cot. His tail touched down and he assumed a natural pose mere seconds before the hare in question strolled into view. He stopped in front of the bars, standing casually with his hands in his pockets. For a tense moment, the two stared at each other in silence.

"Afternoon, Fox."

"Uncle Peppy."

Fox scratched his neck awkwardly. He looked around the rather bland cell—anywhere else besides Peppy's piercing red eyes. He tried focusing on his clothing; he still wore the standard outfit of a white flight jacket and red jumpsuit, as if at any time he was ready to hop back into his Arwing the second his leader gave the word. Fox, on the other hand, was not so formally dressed.

"Watcha up to these days?" the hare said with a straight face.

Fox shrugged, still not meeting his eyes.

"Oh uh, you know. Same-old same-old. Taking it easy. Seeing the countryside…"

Peppy raised an eyebrow, but otherwise his expression didn't change.

When the silence became unbearable, Fox finally blurted out, "Look, Peppy, I can explain everything. I wanted to be there for the V-Day ceremony, honest I did! But before reaching the airport I saw a hit-and-run—witnessed it right before my eyes! This asshole just plowed into a whole family and blew off like it was nothing! He drove off-road into the desert, and I didn't want to get the car dirty, so I rented that monster-truck and went after him! Sure I happened to have a little beer before then, but—"

His mentor slammed his paws against the bars, silencing the todd with a loud clang.

"Don't gimme another one of your tall-tales, Fox! They'll work on your adoring fans, but they ain't never worked on me! That's a load of hogwash and you know it—and I know it, and you-know-I-know-you-know-it!" He shook his head, glaring. "Gosh darnit Fox, I can't keep saving your hide like this!"

Fox winced and folded his ears back at Peppy's outburst, but the onslaught continued.

"You know how you felt whenever Slip charged head-first into trouble 'n you had to save him? 'Cause that's how I feel right about now! Every week you do something bigger and stupider than the week before, and you always cook up some head-ass story to justify it!"

He began counting off on his fingers.

"It started out small: parking in handicap spots like you're the king of the world; eating every free sample in Catsco; late night conspiracy theory rants on social media—but then it grew out of hand! Graffitiing the Mulberry Hills sign, neighborhood streaking, drug possession, and now drunk-driving a monster truck into oncoming traffic? Fox, how much more will you escalate this?! It'll only be so long before someone gets hurt."

He crossed his arms, glaring down at him. "I was just on the phone with Pepper (once again, I might add!) and he said Lylat's out of the frying pan and into the fire; that you rescued us from Venom only to endanger everyone with a bigger threat: yourself! Being Lylat's hero can only let you get away with so much, or before you know it you're gonna be the crazy floating head while some other courageous young-un shoots your lights out to become Lylat's poster child! Now I've about had enough awkward calls with Pepper pleading for him to get you off the hook, so the next time you do something foolish enough to land yourself in the hoosegow, I won't lift a finger to save you. Do you hear me boy? Maybe some time behind bars will simmer you down and teach ya a lesson."

It was a critical hit; during Peppy's unfiltered attack, Fox had shrunk further back in his cell.

"Peppy, I'm sorry I let something like this happen again. I promise you I won't get into any more trouble—I swear! I agree that my behavior is inexcusable and, well… trashy. It's the same kinda shit I would've chewed Falco out for before the war. It was really immature of me."

The hare played with his collar, sighed, and shook his head. "Well, you are only 19, Fox. I know it's hard achieving fame and fortune so early on in life and not knowing what to do with it, but I'd hate to see you go the way of so many other kid celebrities like you. Still, you oughtn't to have left Pepper hanging like that. You made him look like a jackass in front of all those people—and on the one-year anniversary of the war's end, too! You ought to be more considerate—you know he's fond of you too, right?"

Fox's brow darkened and he looked down, fidgeting. "He only likes me because I was a good little merc for him. Sometimes I feel like… like he just wants to stay on my good side so I'll help out the next time he needs me. I'm just someone he can parade around for his image."

Peppy's whiskers twitched. "Well, it boggles my mind why you think people are like that, but I guess I'm too old to understand kids like you. Anyway, I'd love to stay and lecture you some more, but…"

Peppy reached behind himself and withdrew a plastic bag full of clothes. As the guard looked on, he squeezed it through the bars and into Fox's waiting hands.

"Brought you some clothes. Stopped by your house on the way over after I heard all the, heh-heh, juicy details."

Fox began yanking the new change of clothes on over his beer-stained boxers—at least, he hoped that was beer.

"You stopped by the house? Was Fara back yet?"

Peppy looked down and scuffed his foot against the cement floor. "As a matter o' fact, she was. Sounded mighty angry, too."

Fox's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I kind of expected that. I better apologize to her as well."

After Fox was finished dressing, the guard let him out, and the two teammates walked off the premises.

When Fox stepped outside, the light nearly blinded him. He squinted and raised an elbow to shield his eyes from the sun. It was a scorching day, and the heat caused the air to boil and simmer above the yellow-baked soil.

"Hey, you had breakfast yet, Fox? They feed you in prison?"

Fox sighed. "No Pep, my breakfast was a pack of beer and the coffee the chief gave me."

"Wanna come with me and get a bite to eat?"

"No, I really should get back to Fara and apologize as soon as I can."

The hare laughed. "Oh-ho boy, I don't envy you. She'd get awful mad at your father sometimes when she hung around our base. That young girl may be short stuff, but she's a firecracker! Trust me, if you wanna say it face-to-face, you'll need the energy; you can't face her on an empty stomach!"

"I know, I know, but I'm just too damn nervous to eat. Thinking about it has my stomach in knots. I'll… I'll eat after I talk."

Peppy looked at him worriedly, pursing his lips around his buckteeth. "Fox, you can't keep skipping meals like this. You need to start eating more. Do you have a death wish or something? Are you trying to starve yourself?"

He waved him off. "Alright, I… I promise I'll pick up a snack along the way."

The hare sighed. "Well, in that case, can I at least give ya a ride home?"

Fox shook his head and began thumbing through an app on his phone. "No, that's okay. I've been enough trouble for one day. I'll grab a hover."

Peppy shrugged, heading to his car. "Well, suit yourself. If you need me I'll be at my office."

Fox waited outside the local police station for a scant five minutes before a self-driven hovercar pulled up in front. He got in the driver's seat but didn't touch the wheel. Instead he reclined the seat back and crossed his arms behind his head.

"85 Oceanside Drive."

With a low, nearly inaudible hum, the hovercar left the curb and began navigating the best route to his house.

Fox sprawled over the seat, lifting his feet onto the dashboard. He hated having to prostrate himself before Peppy like that. It sure hurt his pride, but he had to admit some of his recent decisions were… questionable.

Los Pegasos was a relaxed metropolis on the opposite side of the continent from Corneria City. Fox preferred it to the towering skyscrapers and cramped spaces of the planet's capital. While much smaller, the city was the center of the entertainment industry and the most popular vacation destination on the planet. It also allowed him to get away from the political sphere and all the celebratory events that plagued him immediately after the war. After a while it just became repetitive and a chore. So, he chose escape.

He watched as a row of palm trees lining the boulevard passed in single file. With a bored sigh he turned on the radio, skipping through the wealth of local and interplanetary stations:

"…shipment was attacked by Venomian remnants lurking in—"

Click.

"Eladard is ramping up their troop presence in the divided Venomian capital, further escalating tensions between the allied—"

Click.

"Whimsy Cola just made it to store shelves today, and I gotta tell ya Phil, this stuff's—"

Click.

"The army of Lylat War veterans is marching towards Corneria City on a mission of peaceful protest, demanding their promised bonuses. They will not reach the capital mall until after Victory Day celebrations have—"

Click.

Fox switched the radio off, sighing again. He didn't need to hear anymore doom and gloom today. Even with Andross dead, nothing had changed. What point was there in trying anymore when the people he saved would just fall back to fighting each other again? It was so much easier to tune out the horrible news, kick back in his comfy seat, and melt into the western coast's blissful aura of apathy, letting the Lylat System revolve without him. Whatever happened out there now, it was no longer his problem.

A roadside convenience store caught his attention at the same moment his stomach growled, and he remembered he hadn't had something to eat since that morning. The last thing he wanted to do was stop somewhere and eat, but he knew he had to force himself too.

"Pull over at the Stop-n-Go," he reluctantly sighed.

The hovercar obediently turned off the boulevard, parking in front of the gas station to let Fox out. The vulpine entered the air-conditioned store and scoured the shelves for food. A bag of spicy peanuts for $1.85 caught his eye, and he snatched them up. He grabbed a bottle of Coke next, ignoring the other cans of Zest, Spunk, and energy drinks lining the shelves—though a new soda on display looked rather tempting: 'Whimsy Cola!' the brightly-colored label shouted, triggering his hangover. Came in four fruity flavors, too. Maybe he'd try one sometime.

He walked back up to the front with his meager meal. It wasn't much, but if Peppy quizzed him later as he was prone to do, he'd make up some story about eating at a hover-thru.

Approaching the front counter with his haul, Fox suddenly panicked. He patted his shirt and pants pockets down, but couldn't find a pair of sunglasses—nor did he have one of several baseball caps to cover his head. He used both items to lay low in public, and it was a pity he possessed neither at the moment. Still, it was divine providence he had any clothes at all considering his latest escapade…

Before the cashier could notice him, he snatched a pair of sunglasses from a rotating display stand and plopped them over his eyes.

Fox held his breath as the young canine cashier looked up from his phone to study him. He squinted a bit, but ultimately shook his head slightly. His pessimistic outlook probably told him the chances of a customer being the Fox McCloud were too slim. The golden retriever returned to browsing social media on his phone while Fox checked himself out.

The vulpine swiped his card and went to sign for it as usual… but the register beeped in annoyance and wouldn't proceed to the signature screen.

Fox frowned and swiped again, but elicited a similar result. Well this was embarrassing…

"Uh, little help over here? Something must be wrong with your machine."

Hiding his irritation, the retriever slid off his stool and examined the monitor on his side of the register. "That's funny. Says here your account doesn't have enough funds."

"Not enough funds!?" Fox exclaimed. "For spicy peanuts? You gotta be kidding me. I know for a fact I have hundreds of thousands of credits left in that account. There's gotta be a glitch in the system somewhere."

After thumbing through some options on his side, the cashier advised, "Why don't you try sliding it again?"

Genius. Fox swiped his card for the third time, but the result was no different.

"There's no mistake. Looks like your account is completely wiped, dude."

Fox's jaw lolled open. What were the chances of this happening to Fox heckin' McCloud?!

When the retriever began to narrow his eyes at him, Fox grew defensive. "Hey, look kid, it's me, Fox McCloud!" He flipped his shades up. "See? I'm… I'm trailing a bounty right now—a very dangerous one, and I don't want to alert him. I'm traveling incognito, you see, 'cause I don't want him or anyone else to recognize me. It'd be a real disaster if someone pointed at me and shouted, 'Hey look, it's Fox McCloud!' and I ended up full of laser holes. I really don't want to be recognized, but I trust you to keep this under wraps. So, would you mind just… letting these few items slide? You'd be doing Lylat a huge favor. Trust me, I don't have time to explain, but I need this stuff for… my mission."

"Uhhh… Fox McCloud, you said?"

He blinked. "You know—of Star Fox?"

"Star Fox? Who's—" But the cashier caught himself, eying Fox with suspicion. He grinned coyly, pointing at him. "Waaaaait, this isn't one of those setups, is it? Like I say, 'who's Star Fox?' and you say, 'Star Fucks your ass!' Ha-ha, ha…"

He trailed off, laughing nervously when Fox did not seem amused.

Growling, the todd pulled out his phone to check his banking app. "I know I had money in there," he mumbled to himself. "That's the team's treasury. The only people who have control over it are me and—"

And just like that, everything clicked.

"I'm gonna kill him."

The gold-furred canine was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Fox slammed his fist down on the counter. "I said I'm gonna kill him! …But first," he reached into his wallet and pulled out three creased plastic credit notes; he couldn't forget his peanuts and soda.

"Keep the change. And quit living under a rock you clueless dipshit…"