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Mission No. 49

Cerinia
CSS Justice

"Hijacked"

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Most of the pilots returned to the hangar, but Bill left two outside to continue patrolling around the Justice; he couldn't be sure there weren't other Cerinians in the area. Once inside they left their ships in the hands of the hangar crew and formed a party to storm the bridge. They made a hasty march through the ship's steel corridors, which felt longer than ever to Bill. He shuddered to think what the Cerinian might be doing to the bridge crew, and if there'd be anyone left…

They reached the gate. The soldiers formed two rows; those in front kneeling, those in back standing, with everyone's weapons primed and aimed. Bill stood at the forefront, staring down the scope of his blaster at the crack between the twin doors even before they parted.

"Fire as soon as you see him," Bill instructed. "Don't give him a chance to react. We might not have another one…" He trailed off and nodded to Fay, who stood by the wall. She dipped her head back and pressed the button to open the gate.

Accompanied by the hiss of hydraulics, the doors split apart, revealing the bridge's interior. None of the crew appeared to be standing; only the Cerinian in his decaying clothes at the other side of the deck. As soon as Bill identified his telltale figure through the parting gates, he opened fire—but the Cerinian had heard the doors hissing; the whites of his wide eyes shone when he recognized the threat. The instant Bill and the rest of the Cornerians opened fire, a floor panel tore free from the deck and stood like a wall between them, absorbing each of the blasts.

"Kei, kei, kei!" a condescending voice taunted over the din of the laser blasts. "Tatari!"

Bill cursed and signaled for his men to move into the bridge, but the steel panel suddenly dropped to the floor with a clang. From the side of the entrance gate, Fay found herself whisked forward as if by horizontal gravity. She came to hover squarely between the Cerinian and the soldiers, twisting around to face them. She kicked and struggled in midair, but her boots couldn't even scuff the ground, and her arms felt pinned to her sides; she couldn't raise them to lift her weapon at the enemy behind her.

Horrified, the men held off from firing.

"What are you waiting for?" Fay screeched. "Don't stop now! Shoot him!"

Afraid he was about to witness Fay get crushed as he'd nearly been, Bill strafed to the side till he could safely fire at the Cerinian without hitting his friend. But as soon as he raised the blaster it was ripped straight from his fingers as if jerked by a piece of string. Instinctively he grabbed for it, but it clattered to the floor and came to a stop at the Cerinian's feet.

"Tatari!" the intruder screamed. "Rānei Ahau neke ia tuaiwi!"

The words seemed to resonate within Bill's mind, as if echoing from every direction at once. He dropped to a knee and clutched his head, trying to make the voice leave. Yet, even though he didn't recognize the words, he somehow grasped their meaning; involuntarily imagining the Cerinian tearing Fay's spine straight from her back.

In response—or perhaps not even of their own accord—his men dropped their rifles, which slid across the floor towards the Cerinian as well. A sizable pile quickly accumulated at his cloth-wrapped feet.

Now that his immediate enemies were disarmed, the Cerinian pulled Fay across the bridge till she hovered locked in front of him. He held one of the blasters against the canine's head and scanned the room's interior with a crazed look on his face.

"Hand over the rest of your weapons!" he ordered. "Hide nothing!"

Once again he spoke aloud in a completely alien language to Bill, but he managed to decipher the words without trying, hearing them echo in his head as well.

One-by-one he made eye contact with the crew, and the soldiers clutched their heads or closed their eyes. The weapons they'd been hiding flew free from their concealed holsters and sheaths and clattered to the ground in front of the Cerinian. Finally he glanced at Bill, and the captain felt a strange presence picking through his mind. He worried the Cerinian might discover the knife tucked away in his boot, and as soon as the thought entered his head the intruder smiled. The blade ripped free of its hidden sheath and fell atop the ever-growing pile.

The presence didn't leave. The memory of the Cerinian woman blown to bits played before Bill's mind, and the male before him seemed to react to it. He pressed the gun tighter against Fay's temple, his trembling hand causing it to shake.

"So, you are the captain of this… spaceship. You were the one who killed my beautiful Hime. She was my other half: my partner, my lover, my queen! My Lilith! She was to be the mother of all the new Cerinians from which we would rebuild our people! Yet with one heartless act you crushed the dream we had together!"

The Cerinian dropped to his knees, weeping—though the blaster remained floating in the air, still pressed against Fay's head. He cried and shook himself back and forth, unsettling Bill and everyone else in the bridge that looked on, who exchanged glances. To think they were at this maniac's mercy now…

Finally the Cerinian sniffed and wiped his nose with a tattered sleeve. He rose to his feet and slipped his hand back into the grip of the floating gun. "You know, Captain, I should take something of yours in return. All I have to do is pull this trigger, and just like that: poof! Her life would be snuffed out. I know as a hostage she's the only thing standing between myself and imminent death, but with a snap of my fingers I could replace her with another one. But I doubt it would make us even. A man in your position probably has dozens of women fawning over him. Yet all I had is my one Hime, and my love for her runs deeper than anything you could feel towards a woman." He shook Fay, violently. "So, how about it? Is she your lover? No? …Really?" He lowered the gun again and looked down at the floor dejectedly. "Then killing her wouldn't be the same…"

Bill released a breath, relieved he wouldn't shoot Fay—at least for the moment. From the way the Cerinian acted he might decapitate all of them on a whim—perhaps even by accident.

He studied his adversary closely, trying to find something—anything—that he could use against him. His fur was a dull metallic blue, appearing caked with dust and sand. His tunic was white but dirty, and bore numerous holes; it didn't seem much more than an undershirt. His pants looked baggy and too comfortable to be worn outside, but here he was, standing in them anyway. Draped over his shoulders he wore a makeshift black cape—as if he'd pulled it straight from a dumpster or a thrift store. Its hem bunched in tatters on the ground behind him.

The man mirrored his curiosity, studying Bill with glittering, suspicious blue eyes.

"Wha… Who are you?" the canine finally asked.

Thankfully—or perhaps unfortunately—the Cerinian understood him.

"I'll just overlook the fact that you nearly asked 'what' am I. I am Ariki, lord of… Whatever's Left. As you can see, there's not much we have anymore. Cerinia is a wasteland as far as Lilith's light touches. That's why I find it so strange that your people have returned at all. Tell me, Captain, who are you, and what could possibly bring you back to Cerinia? Is it to gloat over our misfortune? I bet it's to gloat. That's what I'd do."

Bill rose to his feet and stood defiantly in front of the Cerinian. "I'm Captain Grey of the Cornerian Defense Force. The ship you boarded is the Justice."

"Odd for a 'defense force' to wander so far from home." Ariki looked him up and down. "Spiffy uniform. I would have dressed better, but when the funeral is for the whole world, no one's left to care. 'Grey, Grey… ' like the color of your fur. And ashes. Do you have a first name? No need to be so formal."

The canine raised an eyebrow. "My first name is—"

"—Bill? It sounds strange, but of course it does; it matches your face."

The canid stared back at him in surprise. "So you can read minds?"

"You mean you can't?"

"And you can remotely control matter… I have a hard time believing someone like you exists, even though you're standing right in front of me. How did you get onto the bridge? Can you phase through walls as well?"

Ariki merely pointed up, and Bill followed his finger to see a circular hole cut neatly in the viewing window. Now that silence filled the room, he finally picked out the sound of the wind whistling over the breach.

"Oh…"

"Apologies. I can fix it… I think. But you didn't answer my other question; what brings you to Cerinia this fine day?"

Bill set his jaw firmly. "I can't tell you that."

Ariki laughed once and twisted a finger in his mangled ear. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say you 'can't tell me that.' Did we have a miscommunication? Did one of us read the other's intent wrong? Because…" He re-positioned the gun against Fay's head again, and she swallowed. "… I still have your lovely… 'friend' at gunpoint, and I'd hate to have to torture her over something as unimportant as this, but so help me I'll—! Nah, it's not even worth it. I'll just read your mind again."

He released Fay and stepped over to Bill. He lay a paw on the captain's head, who tried not to flinch. With his other hand he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as if performing a trick at a magic show. "Go ahead! Try not to think of your errand now. And for the rest of you watching, we'll see if your captain can keep anything from me."

Bill wanted to pull back from the filthy Cerinian, but he dared not. He stared angrily at his enemy's closed eyes, worried thoughts might slip out about their secret mission. He hadn't learned how to thwart mind-readers yet, so he had to improvise on the spot.

Eyelids still closed, Ariki began to hum. "Mmmmm I'm getting a lot of, 'fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, suck my dick'… a Cerinian girl carried over a burning ocean by a golden fox… 'fuck you, you dirty post-apocalyptic bum'… a general in a red uniform giving you this vessel… an image of me roasting alive in your ship engine, and… that same Cerinian girl, hiding somewhere in the wasteland." Ariki removed his hand from Bill's forehead and opened his eyes, grinning. "So she escaped with someone back to our planet? You are eager to find her, yet at the same time I sense trepidation. You need her for something. While she is powerful, she is… different. Easy to control—as opposed to someone like me, I suppose."

"Your power can't compare to hers," Bill answered, "which is why I fear you less."

"Ooh, ouch! You're lucky I don't kill someone for minor insults—I enjoy verbal sparring, and that just wouldn't be fair of me." Ariki turned to address the rest of the bridge crew. "Forget your little mission to find the girl. If she's the most powerful Cerinian (which obviously she is not for he stands before you now!) you should be glad that she is on my planet instead. Rejoice! She is out of your hair! You don't have to deal with an all-powerful psychotic bitch trying to murder you every minute of every—"

A clatter sounded behind Ariki, and he whirled to see Fay had grabbed a rifle from the pile and was aiming it at him. With clenched teeth she pulled the trigger, but in the same instant Ariki bent the gun barrel down and the shot simply exploded it.

While he was distracted by Fay, Bill seized the chance and tackled him from behind. With Ariki on the ground he began punching him in the face, but he only managed to land a few satisfying blows before his fists started stopping a few inches from the Cerinian's smug muzzle.

Bill lurched back in a fright, surprised when an invisible field kept him from decking his adversary.

Nursing his face, Ariki chuckled, "Oh-ho, you'll pay for that…"

By the time the rest of the soldiers reached him, the Cerinian flung them all in different directions. Being directly on top of the Ariki, Bill launched straight up into the air, slammed his back against the ceiling, and fell back down, arms and legs flailing. He hit the ground painfully and struggled to rise to his knees—but Ariki pressed him and everyone else flat against the bridge floor.

"Augh!" Ariki spat. "I swear you're no better than the other Cerinians! I thought we'd reached a bit of an understanding, but clearly I was mistaken! So I'll spell it out for you half-witted aliens. This ship—your precious Justice—is mine. You will obey my every whim and order, or I will decapitate, disembowel, immolate, rend-in-two, etc., anyone who defies me. Outside of operating this ship, which I am too 'primitive' to understand," he paused to use excessive air quotes, "I have no use for you. You live and die as I so choose, for I am your god now. Do I make myself clear?" He knelt over Bill and lifted his head up by his short crop of hair.

Bill raised his aching head to look around at the soldiers in his charge, all of whom were sprawled across the floor like him. Upon their faces he read frustration, fear, and confusion. They all awaited his answer, anxiously.

The canid stewed. He hated being brought to his knees by an unhinged, psychotic tramp. First it was Pepper, then Makepeace, and now a Cerinian maniac ordering him around. And all he could do was bow.

Grunting, Bill pushed himself to his feet, and Ariki let go. He stood back and crossed his arms, awaiting an answer.

"If you promise not to harm my crew… I'll do as you wish. But only if we can get rid of you fast."

"And I can't wait to be rid of you either, flappy-jowls. Once you've served my needs we'll never have to see each other again."

Bill brushed his uniform off and straightened it. "What is it you want? Why did you commandeer my ship?"

Ariki placed his hands on his hips. "Simple. This god-forsaken planet is a shithole! There's almost nothing left! Absolutely nowhere to go—the entire globe is an inhospitable wasteland. Oh, and if you think I'm bad enough, imagine a million other super-powered douchebags like me running around all at once, and you can see how the planet ended up like… well, like that." He pointed outside the viewscreen at the black desert and hazy, lifeless skyline.

"It's impossible living with each other. There are no more laws, no government, no police force, and no right and wrong. Nothing can be enforced! No one gets along anymore—hell, I snapped my friend's neck for chewing his food too loudly. Everyone can stab each other in the back at any moment. In fact, it's a miracle I'm even alive today! I had to lie, cheat, murder, and fuck my way to where I am now.

"It's not my fault I'm like this!" he emphasized, placing his hands on his chest. "I became what I had to in order to survive! I became the most powerful, the most cunning, the most creative Cerinian to get where I am now. I'm that .001% of germs that survive hand sanitizer… you guys have hand sanitizer in the future, right? Well, I guess you're not really 'from the future… '"

Bill merely returned his ramblings with a confused, slack-jawed stare.

"Sorry, got off-topic again. But you get my point, right? Cerinia is a living hell. I can't even sleep at night for fear that someone might kill me—especially if it was with my Hime. In fact, all the tears aside, perhaps you did me a favor by putting her down. She could have easily betrayed me at any moment, so maybe you pulled that splinter out sooner rather than later… Splinters are universal, right?"

Bill blinked. "Ariki, I can't fix Cerinia for you. This is a military vessel with two squadrons of fighters. We're only here on a rescue mission. I can't work miracles for you."

"Pfft, fuck this planet! All I want is safe passage to a new one," Ariki shouted a little too excitedly.

"You… want us to take you to another planet?" the captain repeated.

"Oh, I'd find one myself, but Cerinians never perfected spaceflight. Farthest I've managed to send anyone was orbit. I've yet to meet a Cerinian who could, say: survive interstellar radiation, hold in enough oxygen for the flight, wrestle against the vacuum of space, or who even knows where the closest habitable planet is. Then again, I suppose anyone who figured it out would already be gone…"

"As far as I know," Bill answered, "Cerinia is the closest extrasolar planet we've discovered that's habitable."

Ariki laughed. "So, what? You expect me to believe your race evolved on asteroids? You have planets, right?"

Bill stuttered. "Well, yes, but—"

The Cerinian grabbed Bill's shoulders with shaky hands, looking left and right at his crew suspiciously. He lowered his voice to a whisper so that only Bill could hear. "Hey, hey tell me. There aren't any other crazy psychics where you come from, right?"

"No," he stated dryly, "and there's not going to be."

"Perfect!" Ariki exclaimed, jumping back up. "Oh, you have no idea how relieving it will be to live among normal people! I'll finally be safe for once. And, of course, I'll get to explore a new world." He began pacing about the bridge, admiring their technology and studying his soldier's faces curiously. "The prospect is truly exciting! I bet you have hover vehicles, holograms, neural interfaces, jet packs… oh wait, I guess jet packs are a bit redundant for me… But I'll get to meet a variety of alien species if I'm feeling sociable."

He stopped in front of Fay again, encroaching on her personal space. "Of course, now that my Hime was ruthlessly slaughtered, I have a particular… vacancy I'll need to fill in my life. Propagating the Cerinian race sounded enticing at first, until you consider the number of kids you'd have to take care of, and anyone here can see I am the least qualified. I wonder… are Cerinians even compatible with… whatever you are, my dear?"

Fay contorted her face in disgust and tried to step back, but the Cerinian held her in place. He stepped closer and stroked her cheek fur with his paw.

"My, what brilliant white fur. Soft to the touch and curly, unlike any vixen I've met before. How strange and alien you are, but… exotic. A pretty thing like you doesn't belong in the military. Why not come with me? I've signed my name on a mountainside. I've swum to the deepest depths of the ocean. I've slayed more gods than I can count, and made love to just as many. I've seen others level cities, sculpt towering pieces of art with their minds, and build mechanical creatures that still walk the wastelands—but I bet no other Cerinian can say they've fucked an alien."

Fay sneered and recoiled, but she couldn't shake free from his telekinetic grasp. Bill felt his blood start to boil, and he began shifting closer to the two.

"And I bet no one of your species has fucked an alien, either. You'd be just as famous as I! And sorry about the whole threatening to tear out your spine thing, dear. Let's just forget about that. I could buy you the richest mansions, take you to see the most exhilarating locales, dine you on the rarest delicacies; there'd never be a dull moment with me. All I ask for in return is that… you don't slit my throat when we share a bed. You're not like Hime, are you?"

The spaniel growled at him. "The first chance I get I'll run you through, you psycho."

Ariki shrugged and released her. "Eh, was worth a shot. Still, if you ever get lonely, and your captain fails to satisfy you…"

He turned and came face-to-face with Bill, already smirking at his next attempt to sneak up on him.

"What did we ever do to deserve you?" Bill mumbled, giving up.

The Cerinian's eyebrows lifted. "Ah! That's a fine way of looking at it. You know, your home really does deserve me. In fact, your precious Corneria deserves to look like my planet when I'm through with it. I hope that one day all your species evolves psychic powers and tears each other's guts out, just like mine did—but only after Ms. Fay has stabbed me in bed, of course. After all… you did this to us."

The canid balked at his revelation, Hime's last—and only—words beginning to click in his mind. "What? What did we have to do with it?"

"Really? I thought you of all people would know. I heard rumors that an alien race made contact with our own, then released chemicals into our water to evolve us into psychic soldiers or something wild like that. None of that rings a bell?"

"N-No, that's not what happened at all!"

Ariki cocked his head. "Oh? Then how did it go down?"

Bill's brow furrowed, and he looked down at the deck. "I… I don't know."

"Oh. Well, in that case, you can ask your superiors about it and report back to me when we reach Corneria." Ariki released an enormous sigh and waved Bill away. "Okay, I may have been starved of company for years, but that's enough social interaction for one day. Now, I'd love to tap that Cerinian girl you're after and make ultra-powerful psychic kits together, but let's both forget about her and get the fuck away from Cerinia, yes?"

"There's… another matter." Bill scowled. "You downed five of my pilots. We need to recover their bodies and check for survivors."

Ariki waved his hand dismissively. "You saw what we did to them! No one's surviving that. But you have to admit the guy on the spike thing was cool though, right?"

The canid tried to retain his composure, clenching his fists and screwing his eyes shut. "Regardless, if there's a chance, we need to verify. And we need to return the bodies to their families for funeral rites." Bill had to hold back tears at the thought of returning Miyu to her family.

But the Cerinian rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm not trying to scrape together what's left of my Hime! If they're dead, they're dead. A body is nothing without life in it. And… if I seem a little heartless, it's because the cost of life is cheap out here. I've seen people die by the thousands; it means nothing to me anymore. I don't like it, but the only way I can deal with it is to stop giving a shit, you know? You're a captain; you'll understand soon enough."

Bill glared at him. "I've fought in a war. We all have here. I've seen many soldiers die, and this isn't the first time I've lost men I called friends. I still care about their lives all the same."

He huffed in response. "Alright then. If you want to collect them before they rot, you better turn this ship around and take me to Corneria. Now."

"We… can't do that just yet. We came here by a remote gate."

Ariki shrugged. "So… open it?"

"We can't just open it on a whim. It has to be operated from a space station which is ten light years away. We can't even send messages that far; it would take ten years to reach—"

The Cerinian's eyes widened. "You mean I'm stuck with you for for another ten years?!"

Bill huffed. "No, it routinely opens every day. But that won't be for another seventeen hours."

Ariki released a breath, placing a hand on his chest. "Whew, don't scare me like that. Well, park our asses outside… wherever it opens, Captain. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, so let's all just get along. Any attempt to kill me will result in excruciating (but creative!) death. And you won't get the chance to smother me in my sleep; I intend to stay awake all seventeen hours. It will be nothing compared to how long I've gone without sleep in the past."

Fuming, Bill turned to give the order to his crew to take their places and set course for the gate, but Ariki grabbed his arm and pulled him back again.

"Another word of advice, Captain. If you want to survive around Cerinians, try and do as they say. And of course, always sleep with one eye open, if you dare sleep at all. I certainly don't…"

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General Pepper's eyes blinked open. Above his head spanned an unfamiliar ceiling—one he'd never woken to before. He still felt tired and groggy, but sore from resting so long. How long had he slept? It sure felt like half a day. He couldn't even remember where he was—

A pair of curtains whisked open, flooding the room with light. For a moment all he saw was blinding white, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Then he sat up, still clinging to the covers but rubbing his eyes with his other fist. When they'd readjusted to the light, he looked around.

Four figures surrounded the bed: a towering bull, a familiar tanuki, a Doberman butler, and… a strange vixen with unnatural blue fur.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

The onyx bull stared down at him from the foot of the bed, arms crossed and face smug. "Good morning, Cornelius. I trust you had a restful night?"

"I-I don't understand!" he stammered, clutching the blankets tighter to his chest. "Where am—" But he stopped, finally able to distinguish their faces. "Fredersen? De Pon?!"

"You've regained your faculties quite well," the tanuki noted.

"What happened? I was at the party last night talking with you and that pair of otters, then…" The canine butler sparked another memory. "Then you brought a bottle of wine, and after that…" He concentrated, but there seemed to be a gap in his memories. "I don't remember. Everything is so fuzzy, like a dream." His eyes widened, and he pointed an accusing finger. "You… you drugged me!"

De Pon smiled. "Oh come now, surely you must remember some of last night. I'm sure it must rank among your most memorable, even when under the influence of… certain substances."

"And what is she doing here?" Pepper demanded, looking at the alien vixen in confusion. "The Cerinian test subjects belong on Venom; it's impossible you got the proper authorization to bring her here! Especially not without my permission."

"I assure you, Cerinian 26 poses no threat to the capital. She possesses a very… different set of skills. Shall we say, more surgical ones?"

Pepper's jaw hung open, and he stared at the vixen. In contrast to his, her face bore only a stone-cold expression, betraying no emotions. She looked oddly robotic.

"Play the recording," Fredersen grunted. He seemed bored of toying with Pepper.

Wordlessly the butler set a holo-projector on the dresser and turned it on. Every surface of the room was completely plastered over by a new coating of pixels, detailing what had transpired earlier between the four walls. Pepper gasped as two new figures occupied the bed: the young Cerinian and himself, locked together in debaucherous acts. It was like he was committing the sins all over again, yet this time he watched from a removed, third-person perspective, witnessing just how depraved he'd acted the night before. He remembered little of the night itself, but the hologram triggered a few brief images he had retained—images he worried might haunt him for the rest of his life.

All of his iniquities were laid bare before Fredersen and de Pon, both men he'd at one time counted as friends, and certainly allies. Yet now the bull held his swollen nose confidently in the air, glaring down on him, and the tanuki grinned smugly. Pepper glanced at the Cerinian, but she averted her gaze, her stare boring a hole through the opposite wall.

He wanted to hide his actions. He felt the urge to fling himself between the recording and its onlookers—or better yet, he'd smash the projector itself. But that would require him to leave the sheets and further reveal his shame. Instead his blood began to boil in his veins.

"You tricked me," he growled at de Pon. Then at Fredersen he barked, "And you masterminded it! I would never have laid a hand on this girl if not for your illicit drugs!"

"Drugs which you ordered reclaimed from Venom," Fredersen countered, his voice booming through the room. "Crystal lysergic acid, remember? It doesn't control your actions; it merely removes the barriers of your conscious mind and bares your true feelings. The desire for adultery and fornication was always in you, Pepper. It just took a little help bringing it out."

"Well, even the righteous have these kinds of thoughts; we all struggle with them! But my will is normally stronger than that of any other!"

"Really, Pepper? You think anyone wants to admit they have the same potential for wrong-doing? Try that on your wife when you tell her about last night. Try telling that to your own men, who adhere to your strict code of conduct. Tell that to the general public, who thought you were their shining beacon in times of need. You know, you really aren't that much different than young McCloud, considering all of his recent misbehavior. No one likes to see their heroes disgraced, Cornelius. But when they do, they begin to think of them as the villain for deceiving them."

"You wouldn't dare release this footage!" the hound blustered, glaring at Fredersen through the hologram. "I'll just expose your use of Venomian drugs and test subjects."

"Oh, but you can't. All of that evidence is highly classified. You'd never be allowed to subpoena them. And once word gets out, you'd be finished—irreparably damaged. Imagine having to explain your recreational use of contraband Venomian drugs, and your abuse of living test subjects. Yes, 26 looks older now, but I don't know; something about that recording makes her look much, much younger. You must understand Pepper, you're replaceable—just like McCloud."

Fredersen turned and exited the room, followed by de Pon who spared him one last glance before disappearing. The butler tossed Pepper a robe before leaving, but the Cerinian remained, still not meeting his eyes.

Ignoring her, Pepper called, "W-Wait!" He slipped on the robe and hurried to tie it in front, trailing his compatriots into the hall. He whizzed past the paintings lining the wall, following them out onto a spacious balcony that overlooked the countryside and, far in the distance, the sparkling silver towers of Corneria City. De Pon stepped to the side as Pepper came to a stop behind Fredersen, who had his sights set on the gleaming capital.

"What is it you want?" he asked. "How have I wronged you that you are so far past reasoning with me you'd resort to this?"

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," de Pon answered first, "but you gave us no choice. You obstinately stood in our way and opposed each of our efforts for true progress. This had to be done."

"This whole matter is… unpleasant," Fredersen agreed, still facing away from Pepper. "I respect you a great deal, Cornelius. The system owes you a great debt for your services and your unshakable leadership during the recent crisis. You're brave and stalwart and stubborn—but that's also your undoing. You're too perfect: unwilling to dirty your own hands to save others."

"'Dirty my hands'?" Pepper repeated. "Your version of dirtying hands is staging a military coup and using the experiments leftover by a mad dictator!"

"Yes… which begs the question, why are you so in favor of one and not the other?"

"Be… because it's for the people's own protection. They suffered under them as the enemy's weapons, now they can be helped by them as beneficial tools."

"And isn't it in the people's best interest that the impotent Finley is ousted and you take his place? Think about your men, Pepper. They fought so hard in the war only to be forgotten when they returned. Finley's policies have failed them. Your soldiers need a new purpose and someone to lead them. They can't reacclimate into the workforce at the drop of a hat; they need a new cause."

"A… new cause?" Pepper echoed in disbelief.

Fredersen leaned out over the balcony, bracing his strong arms on the railing. "Did you ever devote much thought to how Andross so swiftly conquered the system? Well, I have. I've been thinking about it since the day the war came to our very doorstep. It's because Lylat was divided. Corneria didn't maintain an army besides a small, localized defense force. We were unprepared, and didn't look much further than our own neighborhood in a cosmic sense of the word. We were isolationists, all of us. Corneria fled underground in times of crises. The Aquans kept to themselves, hiding beneath the waves in subaquatic cities. On Macbeth the manufacturers protected their workers in the mines and underground forges. The Titanians hid beneath the sand; the Fortunans, under the treetops; the Zonessians in their yachts and refugee cruisers. And look where it got us. It took a gravedigger like Andross to exhume us all from our hovels and unite us.

"But after the war ended, what did we do? We all returned home again, to deal with our own troubles. We forgot the camaraderie and the bonds we just forged. Lylat is stronger together. An opportunity like this will only come once in a lifetime. We must unite in solidarity to face the future and build a better system."

"And your solution to all this is… Project Guiding Light?"

He nodded. "Guiding Light will tie our lifelines together—under Cornerian supervision, of course."

The canine's eyebrows narrowed. "Alright then, enough grand-standing. What is it you want me to do? What was the purpose of all this?"

"My original offer still stands, Pepper. I want you to lead a military coup against President Finley. The dog's health is failing; he doesn't make for a strong leader like you, and his radical policies are universally worrying my constituents. Your troops will surely flock to your call, and my banks will pay off their war bonuses while financing further endeavors. We're not executing Finley, and if everything plays out right, not a single drop of blood will be shed."

Pepper knew the answer to his next question already, but still had to ask. "And if I don't lead them for you?"

Fredersen shrugged. "We expose you for sleeping with an underage test subject. Like I said, you can easily be replaced, and we'll pay them off instead. But I admire you, Pepper; the whole system does, and that admiration is not easily replaced. It's easier to destroy than build; a single moment versus years of tireless work. You didn't dedicate your life to Corneria to see it all go to waste."

"I see I don't have much of a choice." The hound looked down at the tiled floor, brow knitting as he thought. "Morgan, Yaru… I'll never forgive you for this betrayal. Till the end of my life, I will go on hating you, looking for ways to escape your vice. I trust Finley about as much as I trust you, which isn't flattering. But… if this will save my men when everyone else has failed them… I can't turn my back on them. I'll do what you want… but I have my limits, even at the sacrifice of my own honor."

The bull finally turned around to face Pepper, smiling. "Thank you, my general. Once we make our move it will be over before you know it: quick and painless…"