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Mission No. 4

Corneria
Los Pegasos City

"Flight of the Phoenix"

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Fox burst into Peppy's office, located in Star Fox's smaller Los Pegasos headquarters.

"What did you do with it Peppy!?" he demanded.

The hare steepled his hands in front of his mouth, but Fox saw through his ploy to keep a straight face.

"What did I do with what?"

"Don't play games with me, Unc. What did you do with the money in Star Fox's account? Did you blow it all on prune juice and-and-and museum passes?"

"Not exactly. You can be sure that money was well spent."

Fox marched over to Peppy's desk and jammed an accusatory finger in his face. "So you admit you spent it all!"

Peppy didn't even blink. "Every last cent. I used the rest of our reward from the Lylat War contract to pay off the loan on the Great Fox. You do know how long it was gonna take to pay that off, don't you?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Yeah-yeah I know. I'd be dead by the time it was finished. But you can't just spend my money, Peppy. I'm 19 and you're not my guardian anymore. It's my money!" He emphatically tapped his chest.

Peppy removed his glasses and began polishing them with the hem of his shirt. "That's where you're wrong, son; that's the joint account. It's Star Fox's money, not your personal slush fund or… piggy bank."

Fox threw his arms up. "So? I am Star Fox! The team's in the McCloud family name! You're just my godfather."

While Fox kept complaining, Peppy accessed some files on his desktop monitor. Once he found what he was looking for he turned the screen around for Fox to see, revealing a legal document.

"Ya see this, Fox? It's a copy of your father's last will and testament. His wishes for the apportioning of Star Fox were for you to be the team leader in his stead, while I continue being the treasurer—you know the McCloud men were never very good with money, right? I have full rights to the management of Star Fox's funds, and since I spent it on Star Fox-related matters there's no lawsuit you can bring against me."

Fox began angrily pacing about the room. He waved his hand dismissively. "Pssh! That… that proves nothing! I'll just get a lawyer."

Peppy raised his bushy eyebrows. "Seriously Fox, a lawyer? You don't even know how to file your own taxes."

Fox placed his hands on his hips and mumbled, "Of all the sneaky, backstabbing…" He pointed a finger at the monitor. "That's even worse than what they found in Andross's will!"

While the todd fumed like a black raincloud, Peppy sighed and got up from his desk. He stepped around it and sat on the front, facing Fox.

"Look, son, I did this for your own good. Pepper's patience with your antics is running out, and he can only give you a get-out-of-jail-free card so many times before he thinks he was wrong about you to begin with. I had to promise him I'd do something drastic this time, or he'd never have let you off the hook. So I spent all of the remaining funds on something productive and worthwhile. All of that loan's interest would've broken our furry asses later down the line, and now I've eliminated that threat looming over our heads."

"Yeah, and now you've left me completely broke. You didn't even leave me peanut money"—he grabbed his bag of spicy nuts and shook it in Peppy's face—"literally!"

"You're gonna hate me for this, but that's why I did it; I'm forcing you to work. No more foolin' around with Star Fox's funds! No more takin' advantage of people's goodwill for the hero that saved them. No more of this… self-destruction! You understand, right Fox?"

Finally the vulpine turned around and faced him. Reluctantly he sat on the armrest of a leather chair. "I'm listening. What's your plan for me now that I'm broke?"

"You've got three options Fox."

"Shoot."

"Alright. The first is to continue running the Star Fox team. Get Falco and Slippy's tails back here, and we can continue looking for work together. It'll be business as usual: a proper PMC. There are plenty of government contracts open for cleaning up Venomian remnants, and private companies need armed escorts to guard against pirates taking advantage of the post-war chaos."

Fox noted Peppy's signature flight jacket and jumpsuit. "Want it to be just like old times again, eh, Uncle?"

Peppy's nose twitched. "Fox, you're 19. What we did a year ago hardly qualifies as 'old times.' And no, my livelihood does not depend on you choosin' this option. I would also be thrilled if you went back to Flight Academy and completed your training like Bill did. They've offered you a full scholarship, so money isn't an object. You may have saved Lylat, but you still have a lot to learn when it comes to aerial combat. With time and perseverance, you might find yourself commanding a very esteemed squadron alongside Bill—though there's nothing to stop you from returning to Star Fox again once you've graduated."

Fox pursed his lips. "And the third option?"

"Quit Star Fox. Sell the team's brand to a larger PMC. Leave me and your friends behind. Pawn your house for some quick money, buy an apartment. Learn a new trade. Get a job and work like any normal civilian. Become independent of me in every way. Which is honestly the hardest of the three; probably more difficult than winning the Lylat Wars, even. And because of the fact that…"

When Peppy trailed off, Fox's ears perked up.

"…Because you'd never speak to me again?"

Peppy tried hard to keep his face resolute, but he couldn't hide his moistening eyes.

Fox found it hard to hate Peppy. In fact, he hated himself more. He stared at the floor while considering how impossible and irresponsible he'd been over the last year. He knew Peppy had a point, and he was coming from a genuine place of care and love. Deep down, Fox knew the rabbit wasn't some control freak, nor one of those dickish instructors he'd had back at the Academy. He only wanted the best for his deceased friend's son. After all, he was still his godfather, and he'd treated Fox like his own child. Why couldn't he just grow up…

"Listen, Peppy, I'm 100% planning on doing one of those things eventually. I'll either go back to the Academy or find some new jobs for us, but… can't you give me a little break in the meantime? For heck's sake, I just saved all of Lylat not too long ago. I need more time to recuperate and catch my breath!"

But Peppy shook his head, causing his ears to waggle. "Fox, you've been consumed by your success; it's gone to your head. You mistakenly think that killing Andross and saving the Lylat System will be the highlights of your life. After all, you spent two years training for that very purpose after dropping out of the Academy. But now that it's over…" Peppy's voice softened and he leaned in closer to Fox. "Have you thought about what you're going to do now that Andross is dead? You checked everything off your bucket list, avenging both your parents. You accomplished these goals at a very early age, but you still have your whole life ahead of you!"

Fox looked down and rubbed his forehead. "I… I dunno Peppy. I honestly don't see the point anymore. I killed Andross like everyone wanted, but it hasn't solved shit. Everyone's already at each other's throats again, and the system's on the brink of a second war. Most of all, it didn't bring either of my parents back. I… I didn't really expect it to, but I at least thought it would help me lay them to rest and move on. If I gave that much of myself, and nothing came of it… what's the point of even trying?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know what I want."

"Well, maybe I can help," the hare continued. "Your father started an ambitious mercenary company. That's his legacy, Fox, and it's up to you to carry it on. It's your job to fulfill his wishes and make something out of Star Fox so it wasn't just a flash in the pan. The team needs to live on."

The todd's eyes flashed back. "…This isn't about me then, is it?"

"Huh?"

He glared at his mentor. "It's just about my father to you. The only reason you've put up with me through all this is because of the promise you made him, right? I know you're just tolerating me because you owe him."

The hare snorted. "So, what, have you just been testin' me this whole time to see how far my love for you goes? To see whether it's genuine? Are you testing the general, too? 'Cause if you are testin' me, son, I'll pass with flying colors. It may not be the unconditional love and turned blind eyes you want, but it'll be the tough love you need."

Peppy slid off the desk and stood over Fox, planting a finger squarely in his chest.

"James Fox McCloud, you have to confront your father's legacy head-on. You can't keep running forever."

Fox stared up at his godfather in disbelief. His head was a whirlwind of contradictory emotions that he couldn't sort out for the life of him. Part of him wanted so badly to let Peppy in; to talk about his father and the burden he felt weighing on his shoulders. But at the same time he hesitated. He retreated back behind his defenses, building up walls to keep the hare out.

"You think I can't run?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Watch me, Gramps."

Before Peppy could stop him, Fox rose from his chair and bolted out the office door.

On the drive back, Fox kept his sunglasses on—even as the sun dipped towards the horizon. He leaned his seat back and slouched, using the shades to hide the fury in his eyes. He replayed his conversation with Peppy over-and-over in his head, wishing he'd said so much more. But no matter how many new arguments and witty flourishes he came up with after the fact, the truth in his godfather's words always sliced right through.

Tired of the car moving along at its sluggish, safe pace, Fox sat up and grabbed the steering wheel. He tried to turn it into the next lane, but the wheel refused to budge—no matter how hard he tried to wrench it. A message blinked on the dash screen, reminding him his license had been revoked that morning. He was just a passenger now, along for the ride in his little chrome prison.

Infuriated, Fox pounded the steering wheel before throwing himself back in the seat, staring up through the sun roof. He just wanted some control—but then again, perhaps it was for the best; if he had control of a vehicle, he might crash it intentionally.

Again.

When Fox finally arrived back at his house—nay, his veritable playboy mansion—he was in for another unfortunate surprise.

The luxuriant estate he purchased with his personal share of the reward sat in the shore-front suburbs; it perched right atop the dunes that overlooked the beach and ocean. As he had found out at parties, several of his neighbors were rather acclaimed movie stars and musicians.

The mansion was modern in design, with white blocky architecture and copious amounts of glass walls. It came replete with all the excessive luxuries of modern life, including a picturesque swimming pool overlooking the ocean, a gym, and a sauna, to name a few of the amenities. Palm trees and cacti lined the private drive up to the porch, but something rather large blocked his view.

To be precise, a moving truck.

"What in the world…" Fox mumbled; an awful sinking feeling in his stomach.

As soon as the automated vehicle stopped beside the truck, the todd jumped out and raced around to the back. Two of the moving crew were carrying boxes and luggage from inside his house and loading them into the rear bay.

Rushing to one of the boxes, Fox pulled the flaps open to discover a wardrobe of folded, expensive dresses packed away.

"What… what's going on here?" he asked one of the crewmen.

The badger handed another worker a box. "We're moving a gal out. One Ms. Phoenix?"

"Holy crap…"

Fox gazed in awe at the number of items scattered in his driveway and in the back of the truck. It was hard to believe Fara kept so much shit at his house, but then again it was Fara.

Who was moving out.

"No, this can't be happening." Fox rubbed his temples. "There must be some mistake. I-I gotta find Fara…"

He ran inside, squeezing past another pair of movers carrying a piano out his front door. That was Fara's too?! He honestly didn't know at this point; she could totally be robbing him blind.

Once inside he yelled, "FARA!" at the top of his lungs. He called her name up the stairs to the second floor and down another flight to the basement—but received no answer. Finally upon sprinting through the living room, he noticed the door to the pool deck was open, so he rushed back outside.

He was immediately hit by a blast of unfettered sea air and the nearby roaring of waves. The electric blue-tiled pool lay immediately in front of him, but once again Fara was nowhere to be seen. She had to be out here somewhere; even if Fox was prone to leaving the door open, Fara was always vigilant about closing it.

He circled around the pool, craning his neck to scan the beach below. Finally he spied a lone figure standing at the end of the private pier. Losing no time, he ran down the steps to the beach and clambered onto the wooden pier. He raced to the end but pulled up at the last second.

The young fennec stood with her back to him, staring out over the ocean. She had changed out of her formal dress from earlier in the day but still wore her usual color palette: a backless lime-green blouse, white shorts, and a purple gossamer wrap around her bare shoulders. The dark azure ocean framed her on either side, while the towering clouds in the afternoon sky burned dual shades of pink and blue above her.

In his heart he realized this could be the last image he'd ever see of her.

He rushed towards the end of the pier again. "Fara!"

At the sound of his voice and approaching footsteps, the fennec turned. There was a bright spark of excitement that flamed in her eyes, but the instant Fox removed his sunglasses it was snuffed out. Her shoulders fell, and she turned away again.

"Hey, Fox," she weakly said.

Tentatively, Fox joined her by the railing. "Fara… what are you doing?"

She hesitated before answering. "We need a change, Fox. Both of us do."

"You're… dumping me?"

"If you insist on putting it that way…" She glanced at him from the corner of her emerald eyes. "Yes."

"But-but why?!"

"How can you still ask that after what happened today?" The fennec began playing with her purple shawl. "You're a… a liability to the company's image. Drunk-driving a truck like that—with me in it, no less—is frankly irresponsible of you. I've given it a lot of consideration and I think it would be best if—"

"Don't you still love me?" Fox interrupted, his voice close to fracturing.

"Fox, of course I love you! It's just that, well… you're not acting yourself lately. You're not acting like Fox McCloud. At least, not the Fox McCloud I fell in love with years ago. It's as if the real you was kidnapped and replaced by some imposter like we're in some… some sci-fi movie. Ever since you defeated Andross you've been acting aimlessly: like you no longer have a purpose."

Fox's fists clenched before she continued.

"You lost that fire you had in your eyes back when you first rescued me from the pirates. Whenever we met afterwards for a date, whenever you stopped by Phoenix Corp for equipment, or whenever you talked about avenging James, that flame was there, burning bright." She turned to face him and began searching his eyes. "But now that fire is gone."

Fox grit his teeth. "Look, I don't know what more you and everyone else want from me. What more can I give that I already haven't given? My life? I can't very well save you or the entire Lylat System every week like some sappy kids' show! Fara, Fara I saved Lylat!"

But Fara closed her eyes and shook her head. "You don't get it, Fox. That's not why I fell in love with you—because I was some damsel you happened to save and now I have to be eternally grateful in return. I didn't fall in love with the boy who saved me or Lylat; I fell in love with the boy who wanted to save Lylat. Now that passion is gone; it's burned itself out, and you have nothing left. No ambition, no dreams. You're just floating along, drifting through life. If something threatened the world again, and Lylat needed your help, I'm not even sure you would answer the call anymore…"

Her eyes caught something behind Fox, and she waved in the direction of his house. Fox looked over his shoulder to see the moving badger waving from his pool deck, signaling they were ready.

Fox clasped Fara's hands in his, intertwining their fingers. He stared into her eyes, trying to hold back tears. Fara had been his first love; the only person he'd been intimate with. After he lost both his mother and father, he found himself growing more and more attached to her. He felt so powerless when he was unable to save either of his parents, but he was always proud of the fact that he had at least rescued her. In fact, that confidence she gave him was directly responsible for him taking leadership of Star Fox and saving Lylat. But now, in the span of a single day, his muse was slipping away…

"Look, Fara, I'm just… dealing with a lot right now. All this pressure, attention, and standards people hold me to… and the migraines… You just don't understand what I'm going through!"

"Fox, I do! I understand—"

He growled suddenly, causing her to jump. "No, you don't! You haven't been through the things I have, you haven't seen the same things, you haven't fought a war, or experienced the same loss as me!"

Fara glared back. "I lost my father too, Fox! You aren't the only one in the universe bad things happen to, but I don't use that to justify my shitty—"

"And did you lose your mom, too?"

"N-No! But when you lost your father, I… I…" She calmed down, growing morose again. "It felt like when mine left, all over again."

They looked away from each other—down at the weathered planks, or out at the choppy ocean.

"Fara, you have to understand, it's hard being in my place—"

"And it's about time you realized it's hard being in mine. For a full year now you've made messes, and I've had to clean them up. It's a lot easier to destroy than to put something back together, and that's what I've been doing non-stop. I bent over backwards for you, Fox. I tried to get you extra counseling and therapy, I took you to movies and parties to keep your social life going, I made sure you had enough food to eat whenever you quit—I even handled the taxes for you and Star Fox." She laughed sadly. "For a time there it felt like I was running Star Fox. Sometimes I felt more like your nanny than a mate. But despite everything I did for you, you didn't want to change. It just goes to show, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

"But if you really loved me, why would any of those things matter? Can't you just… accept me for who I am? Do you want me to… to pay for your love?"

"And what have you ever given back to me? You're self-destructing, Fox. You're taking yourself down. I can't stop you from doing it, but I can at least stop you from taking me down with you."

Fox wrung her hands tighter. "Please Fara, I promise I'll do better. I don't want to keep living like this, either. I swear I'll change."

But Fara shook her head. "I'm sorry Fox, I can't believe that. You made this promise before and haven't kept it. I can't keep doing this over-and-over again. I can't be the person you want, and… I don't think you can be the person I need, either."

Fox deflated, ears folding back over his head. His defeated frown soured into a scowl.

"You're just like all the rest…"

Fara's large ears perked, and she tried to peek beneath his downcast brow. "What did you say?"

He raised his eyes, and this time they did have a fire in them. "You don't really love me. I always had a suspicion, but… now I know it's true. You've only seen me as free publicity for your mother's company. I'm just a tool for you."

She gasped. "D-Don't be silly! You know it's more than that!"

"Love is just a business to you—an investment; you only put in what you think you can get out of it. After my father and I saved you, you felt indebted. And when he left…" He let his arms slap against his sides, shrugging. "You were stuck with me. You only cared for me and filled my needs because of him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You really hate your father, don't you?"

He laughed sourly. "Of course I do! He ran off and died on some stupid quest for revenge, and then he left me here all alone. He left me with no one! He was so busy chasing his dead wife he forgot about his—"

Fara slapped him across the face, cutting him short. He blinked in surprise, but he should have seen it coming. Ultimately, he got the proof he wanted.

Looking up at the todd, Fara's searing eyes burned the words straight into his mind. "Don't you ever talk about James like that again."

While the sound of her footsteps striking the wood planks faded away, Fox forced himself not to watch her go. Instead he stared at the sea until he was sure she was gone.

As he stared down at his wavering reflection, he tried to see the hero he'd once been. What else was left to give? he asked himself again. Did they want his life?

The urge to step off into the waves and give it to them ate away at his psyche, but he knew it was a dumb idea and the desire would pass momentarily.

With the clouds fading from pink to purple, Fox turned and walked back to his house.

Once inside he shut the deck door behind him, closing out the turbulent sound of the wind and waves. He was left with naught but empty silence: suffocating, lonely silence that had begun to seep into his very pores. He needed to get his mind off of… everything, so he decided to call Falco. That delinquent always had a way of cheering him up whenever he was down. He pulled his phone out and dialed, but Falco didn't answer, so he left a message asking him to come over when he could.

After an evening like that, Fox no longer had much of an appetite. He stretched out on the couch, watching HV and chowing down on the spicy peanuts and cola he'd bought.

Man, all that day's stress was taking its toll on him. He felt the early harbinger of a headache buzzing behind his eyes. Though part of him wondered if it could just be the hangover from that morning kicking in, he knew it was more likely one of a constant series of migraines he suffered ever since that day on Venom, so he hunted around the kitchen cabinets for his medication.

Locating the brownish-orange bottle, he unscrewed the safety cap and upended the container, but only two pills tumbled out into his waiting palm. He probably should save one for tomorrow, but… fuck it, he thought. He needed a double dose for once. He'd ask Marjorie to prescribe more tomorrow, or maybe he could find another bottle lying around his house somewhere.

Tilting his head back, he catapulted the capsules into his mouth, downing a glass of water afterwards. The pills were bitter at first, with a briny, sour aftertaste. He debated calling his therapist; she was usually great for confiding in, but… now he thought better of it. She didn't care about him, either. Listening to him was just her Space-Dynamics-appointed job. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh for him to talk tonight; he needed to be alone. Instead, he simply sent her a text saying Fara was gone, and he didn't know where to go from here. He'd leave it vague enough to make her worry about him.

Fox stumbled through his dimly-lit living room to the couch and crashed. After stripping back down, he pulled a throw blanket over his frame and placed a pillow on the armrest, upon which he lay his head. He left the HV on, which wasn't a problem; the glorified droning of west-coast talking heads helped put him to sleep.

The double-dosage worked its magic, and soon Fox felt light-headed. In fact, his whole body felt numb and peaceful. It was the only respite he'd had all day.

Soon he was snoring away, still except for the rising and falling of his chest, and a vague sense of blissful sinking, sinking, sinking into the darkness.

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In.

Out.

Slow and rhythmic.

A sensation of floating effortlessly.

Arms and legs drifted as if in thick water.

Neither cool nor warm: perfectly in between.

It matched her own temperature, numbing her.

She couldn't tell where her body ended and the fluid began.

She opened her eyes and stared through the ghostly blue substance.

A gathering of figures dressed in long white clothes stared up at her, studying.

She reached her hand out to them, but it struck against an invisible, concave barrier.

She ran her hands along the surface, but it completly surrounded her, only leaving enough room to float upright in.

Focusing closer on the barrier, she noticed another figure, standing between her and the people below.

It was ghostly and distorted, perfectly mimicking her every motion.

She focused till it took the shape of a strange, blue-furred vixen.

She tilted her head, and the woman moved hers as well.

She raised her hand to reach out to it—

But their paws met against the glass.

It was only herself.

She was imprisoned here alone.

She panicked, struggling to move in her confined prison.

Her heart beat accelerated, and her breathing became ragged.

The people outside whispered among themselves, and one danced his hands across a strange-looking box.

A sickly-sweet smell washed into her nose through the tubes and mask connected to her muzzle.

Slowly she felt a soothing calm spill over her mind and body like a cloud.

She was once again floating.

Deep and rhythmic.

Out.

In.