Chapter 10: Family Matters

Fox followed Scarlet through the opulent hallways of the Sparta family's manor house as she led him to one particular door on the opposite side of the building from where Felix kept his office. Turning the doorknob, she opened the door and stepped inside. She flicked on the lights, revealing a sparsely-furnished room with minimal, simplistic decor and dark red walls, which matched the comforter on the king-sized bed. Apart from the intriguing paint choice, nothing about the room identified its primary occupant.

"You don't spend much time here, do you?" asked Fox.

Scarlet shook her head. "Time spent here is time spent not earning my keep out there. This place is too quiet."

"Huh," Fox scoffed, "I doubt I'd get much done if I came home to a place like this. I'd never want to leave."

"You say that, but you totally had the option to settle down after what you did during that big war in Lylat. And you didn't."

A sigh escaped Fox's lips. "Hey—it would have been a bad look. The system was in complete chaos after the war. We couldn't just pack up shop and retire to some beach on Zoness. After all, the planet was ruined by Andross anyway. Also, I don't know if you knew this, but what we got paid at the end of the war didn't even come close to paying off the loan on the Great Fox."

Scarlet looked at him with a bewildered expression. "Really? You saved their sorry asses and they couldn't even be bothered to cancel that debt?"

Fox shrugged, although the more the vixen talked, the more like a rube he felt. "Look—people were struggling. The system's economies were a wreck. I guess we could have pushed harder to have that debt forgiven, but we didn't feel it was the right thing to do with how rough things were for a lot of people after the war."

Scarlet nodded, not meeting Fox's eyes. He knew she disagreed with his past decision from a practical standpoint, but lacked the nerve or callousness to shame him for claiming the moral high ground.

"So," Fox spoke up, breaking the temporary silence. "What's the deal with your mother?"

The vixen still struggled to look at Fox while she spoke, a departure from her usual self. "I haven't talked to her in years. She used to try to get in touch with me, but I ignored her. Now she doesn't even try to call anymore—and that's fine by me. I don't want anything to do with that bitch after what she did to me."

Fox looked on, not wanting to press his counterpart for information she was not willing to divulge. However, she recognized his interest and lowered her voice. "Can I be very vulnerable with you, Fox?"

"Sure," Fox sighed.

"My family is dead to me," Scarlet admitted. "Well, all of them that would be considered family by blood or by law, at least. My real mom disappeared when I was young. I didn't have any other family, so I ended up in an orphanage until my parents decided to adopt me and raise me in Sky City. By the standards of this planet, that should have set me up for guaranteed success—access to the best schooling, the best job opportunities, the safest, wealthiest, most well-connected communities in this part of the system. And for a while, it was amazing." Her demeanor suddenly morphed into blind rage. "Until my adoptive father violated me. I went to my mom and begged her to help me, but she didn't believe me. She couldn't imagine that her 'wonderful husband' would ever do such a thing.

"Everything went downhill after that. My mind fell apart, I started failing classes in school, scholarship opportunities died, and the only people there for me at all were Felix and my mother's sister—they believed me. But they couldn't do much to help other than keeping me from killing myself. The only thing that makes me feel any better is that I heard my bastard dad died of brain cancer a few years ago."

She halted, choking back a single repressed tear, then added, "I never graduated high school. I was a complete failure. Without connections or a lot of determination, there isn't any opportunity here. Where this ties back to where we are now is that Felix convinced his family to let me live here and take care of the house—be a maid, basically. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but it allowed me to get away from my family and gave me a place to stay. His family's generosity is why I've stuck with him to this day."

Fox nodded, then sighed. "I see why you don't want to talk to your mother. You said that she'd definitely take my call, though. Why? Does she know me or something?"

Scarlet looked him in the eyes. "Remember when I said that some people outside the Lylat System know who you are? She's one of them."

"Cryptic," Fox muttered.

"What you did in Lylat was seriously impressive. It would be more surprising if you didn't have a few admirers here."

Fox returned a subtle shrug. "Huh, I guess." He paused for a moment, then reluctantly posed a question. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you go from being a maid to…well…where you are now? For someone in your line of work, it sounds like you started late."

Scarlet nodded and took a seat on the edge of her bed. "I'm a fast learner. But it's more because I was taught by the best. I met my mentor when I was 21. It was at a funeral for someone we both knew. He was a merc pilot, just like us. I never had any interest in fighting for anything before that point, but when I met him, I felt a longing for the kind of power and freedom that comes with this line of work. Think about it: being behind the controls of a flying death machine that's basically the extension of your own body? That's powerful. My whole life, I'd never had my own agency—everything I did was always up to someone else. And I wanted to change that. My mentor didn't want to train me, but I begged him until he couldn't say no anymore. He eventually taught me everything he knew, and the rest is history."

Fox looked off to the side, at a nondescript framed picture of a château hanging on the left wall. Then, he glanced back at Scarlet. "You've mentioned that guy before—is he someone important here? Clearly you respect him a lot—and I feel like that carries extra weight from someone like you."

Scarlet looked down, seemingly uncertain about her response. "He runs a PMC that's headquartered in this district. It's not a big company, but it is both feared and respected. They focus on jobs requiring small, elite groups of air and space-based fighters and attack crafts, and they pull members from everywhere within hyperspace range—even from outside this system."

"So you were part of this group?"

Scarlet shook her head. "No. I wanted to do my own thing. And my mentor understood that. But I know what you're getting at with that question, so yes—he definitely considered me good enough to be in one of his teams."
Fox scrunched his lip and nodded. "You think I'll run into those guys while I'm here?"

Scarlet took a quick glance towards her bathroom, then looked back at Fox. "Hell if I know. I kinda doubt it, though. They work throughout the system, and they don't come out to play unless the stakes are high or the money is too good to pass up. But since there's quite a demand for mercs around these parts, they're usually busy."

"I see," Fox replied. "So, this mentor of yours—if he's pulling pilots from all over this part of the galaxy, he's probably got his eye on recruits all the time."

"Yeah. Definitely."

Fox finished his question. "Does he know about me, too?"

Scarlet smirked, but once again, Fox noticed an unmistakable twinge of unease cross her lips. "Yes."

While Fox brought his hand to his muzzle and stroked it in thought, Scarlet stood up and moved towards her open bathroom door. "Hey, I'm going to get ready for bed. If you want to spend the night with me again, be my guest. Or if you're not feeling it, I can set you up with one of the guest rooms."

Her statement elevated Fox's heart rate in seconds, but his overwhelming exhaustion stifled much of his arousal. "If you were hoping for a repeat of last night, I don't have it in me," he admitted. "But if you want to share your bed with me, I'm not going to say no."

Scarlet smiled, this time with a look of genuine happiness as opposed to a hungry smirk. "I'd love that."

- § -

Scarlet had a tendency to sleep less than the average person, sometimes waking only four hours after going to bed with no side effects later in the day. This had been a constant for most of her life, and while it annoyed her caretakers in her younger years, it gave her an advantage as a professional. As with the night before, Scarlet awoke in the early hours of the morning, long before the majority of Skallis's citizens—and Fox—arose from their beds.

Slipping out from under the covers with extreme care as not to wake the slumbering vulpine next to her, she walked towards a sliding door on the wall to her right. Unlocking it, she slid it open. The omnipresent sounds of the metropolis leaked into her bedroom, but not loudly enough to wake Fox. Taking a glance over her shoulder, Scarlet crept through the door and closed it behind her.

With her bedroom on the second floor, she stood on a sand-colored stone balcony overlooking the manor's back yard, illuminated by numerous pathway and landscape lights. The sun still remained firmly below the horizon, locking the world around her in darkness. A cluster of tall trees with deep green leaves blocked the view beyond the estate's perimeter wall, giving Scarlet peace of mind about standing outside 'in the fur.' She preferred to sleep that way.

However, she did bring her PDA with her. She scrolled through her voluminous contact list, noting the appearance of a green circle next to the names whose devices were set to 'active.' Many of her contacts lived elsewhere, meaning that even though it was a few minutes before 4 AM in Gaia's district on Skallis, many of them would be available for conversation at that moment. But she had one particular person in mind. She did not know if he was even on Skallis, but that did not matter. She scrolled down the contact list, finally landing on one simply labeled 'Dad.'

This was not her birth father—a person she never met—or her late adoptive father. Rather, this person functioned as a father figure in her life to the point where she viewed herself as part of his family. Or, more accurately and more soberly, the only family either of the two had left. Noticing the green circle next to his name, Scarlet took a quick glance back into the bedroom to make sure Fox was still asleep. Then, she pressed the call button.

An antiquated dial noise repeated itself three times before a gravely, quiet voice graced her ears. "Hello?"

"Hi Dad," said Scarlet, as quietly as possible without resorting to whispering. "Just wanted to fill you in on something that I thought you'd want to know about."

"Oh?"

"Fox is here, on Skallis."

Silence from the other end of the line fell over the balcony. Then, after a lengthy pause, the voice asked, "Did he bring his whole team…or whatever's left of it?"

"He did," Scarlet nodded.

The man on the other end of the line sighed. "I guess it was only a matter of time." He stopped, then, with an incriminating tone, suggested, "You brought him here, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged."

"You know what they say about not meeting your heroes, Scarlet."

"I have no regrets," she declared.

Her contact chuckled. "What am I going to do with you?"

She smiled. "I don't know, Dad. I just couldn't help myself." In a more serious voice, she added, "We need help, though. We've gotten ourselves into a problem that we need connections to get out of."

"Connections outside of what you and Felix already have? I don't know if I'm going to be of much help to you, Cynthia."

"I know," Scarlet agreed, "But I figured I'd ask anyway. We need a way to get to Cerinia."

She could almost see her contact's hair standing on end. "Well, I'll be damned. You really do need connections. Do you mind telling me what's so important that you'd need to go back there again?"

"I'll be real," said Scarlet, "Right now, this is kinda supposed to be confidential between me, Fox, and Felix; but you should know: Asgard Industries is putting together an army of cloned Cerinians that we think is part of a plot to overthrow Cerinia's current government so that Asgard can control the planet's mineral deposits."

"Wow. That's a lot of work for some 'mineral deposits.' What kind of minerals are we talking about here? Thyresium?"

"That's the one," Scarlet sighed.

"Damn, you might have uncovered something huge, Cynthia."

"Yeah, big if true," she replied. "I was kind of wondering if your wife might be able to pull some strings for us."

Her contact let out a short groan. "There's a misconception about the Cerinians that they're a cohesive, united group; when the reality is that they're just as prone to tribal animosities as everyone else. Dhana is from the line of Cerinians that they don't view as being 'pure.' The ones in power don't like her people, and her people don't like them, either. So unfortunately, my wife and I can't do anything to get you closer to landing on Cerinia." He lowered his voice and muttered, "Your mother probably can, but…"

Scarlet cut him off. "I know."

"Sorry," her contact replied.

Gritting her teeth, Scarlet commented, "Sometimes life forces us to cross the bridges that we burned—or that other people burned for us."'

"Whatever you end up doing, I wish you luck," said the man. "And if you need anything else from me, don't be afraid to ask. I'll always be there for my daughter."

Scarlet's heart fluttered. "Thanks, Dad."

After a quick goodbye, she ended the call and placed her PDA on the stone balcony railing. She exhaled, watching her breath turn to mist in the cool early morning air before she looked over her shoulder. Fox remained sound asleep in her bed, oblivious to her conversation. As her eyes lingered on him, she felt a rare feeling of sadness come over her.

- § -

Fox awoke with great difficulty, his mind and vision a colossal blur. His eyes struggled to focus, but when they did, he found himself face to face with Scarlet sitting next to him on the bed. The vixen had already dressed herself with a black and gray bodysuit that, while slinky, was a bit less provocative than the one she had worn on Saijivo. Her clothes, her tidy hair, and the overwhelming sunlight coming in through the sliding door leading to the balcony immediately made Fox aware that he had overslept—badly.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Scarlet chuckled. "I know you're tired, but it's already nine in the morning and I didn't want you to sleep the day away."

Her announcement of the time sent Fox into high alert. Although his premature awakening numbed his every movement, he pulled the bedsheets forward and sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he replied, "Thanks."

Weighed down by immense sleep inertia, he forced himself out of bed and put his clothes from the previous day back on. With his mind struggling to turn on, he looked at Scarlet as she climbed off the bed. "I'm going to need to get back to the Great Fox, you know."

"Yeah, I was expecting that," Scarlet replied, her smile fading. "Before that, though, you probably need to call my mother."

Fox raised an exhausted eyebrow. "Why so soon?"

Scarlet's face took on a patronizing tone. "You're aware you have a mind-reader onboard your ship—a mind-reader that isn't sympathetic to what we're doing."

Traces of Fox's brain fog began to lift. "Good point. Also, I need to do something about her. She said she was trying to reach someone named 'Karen Altruis.' I told her I'd do what I could to help her, but I don't even know where to start.'"

Scarlet sighed. "Karen is my mother."

"What?" Fox's ears spiked.

"There's no way that's a coincidence," said Scarlet. "If I had to guess, whoever gave that Cerinian instructions to go to Skallis is someone who knows my mother. And in all likelihood, that's the person you really need to get in touch with. She's the one who would be able to get us onto the planet's surface."

Fox brushed his muzzle. "Maybe I can use Krystal as an excuse to get an audience with your mother."

"It wouldn't hurt," Scarlet replied. "But trust me—she'll be willing to talk to you as is."

"I'll still confused about why, though," Fox grumbled. "Also, how am I supposed to call her? I don't even think my PDA can make calls to anyone on this planet's network."

A sudden realization hit Scarlet. Shaking her head, she cracked a faint smile. "You're right—it can't. It's simple to set up, though. You just need to connect to Gaia's planetary data network, create an account, and pay a small fee."

Fox looked at her with the flattest expression imaginable.

"…Or I could just let you use one of my burner phones," Scarlet added.

"I like that idea a lot more," Fox replied.

"Fine, I'll go grab one for you."

A minute later, after rifling through various drawers, she grabbed a spare PDA, powered it up, punched in the call code linked to her mother, and handed the device to Fox without initiating the call. "I don't want to be in the same room as you when you call her. So, if you want to go out on the balcony, I'll stay in here…or vice versa." When Fox looked at her quizzically, she hardened her expression and explained, "If she clues into the fact that I put you in touch with her, I want you to have plausible deniability to tell her that I'm not with you. Look—we need her so we can get to Cerinia, but I do not want to speak with her—period."

Fox frowned and nodded his head. "I understand. I'm going to go out on the balcony. Feel free to listen in."

Scarlet sighed. "It's okay—you can fill me in on the details afterwards. I don't want to hear her voice."

Returning a somber "okay," he walked to the sliding door leading to the outdoor balcony and opened it. Shutting it behind him, he took a deep breath, then pressed the call button on Scarlet's borrowed device.

"Is she really going to just answer this random call code from this planet's surface? If this Sky City place is as upper-crust as Scarlet suggests, they've probably got all kinds of programs in place to prevent themselves from having to deal with the rabble below."

His thoughts came to an abrupt end when a female voice came through his speakers. "Hello?"

Fox's 'autopilot' kicked in. "Hi, is this Karen Altruis?"

"Yes," the voice replied, dripping with suspicion. "Who am I speaking with?"

Fox paused, then answered, "Fox McCloud."

Mrs. Atruis went silent. Then, she barked, "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"No, that's really who I am."

"I can't believe it—I'd given up hope that you'd call me someday. What's finally brought you outside the Lylat System?"

Alarm bells screamed in Fox's head as he tried to piece together a way forward with his call. "Am I supposed to know her? Did I meet this woman at some point and then forget about her? Is she a crazed fan or something? I thought those people moved on years ago."

Yet, the knowledge that he specifically needed her help if he and Scarlet were to reach Cerinia forced him to shove his misgivings into the back of his mind.

Answering Mrs. Altruis's question, he stated, "Some job leads brought me to Skallis. Actually, that's part of why I'm calling."

"Oh?"

"I can't get into it too deeply, but it's very important, and it could end up having a major impact on a lot of people. I'm trying to find a way to get to Cerinia."

"Wow," Mrs. Altruis exhaled. "I might be able to help you. They've become less accommodating to offworlders in the past few years, but I still know someone on the planet who might be able to let you through. It might be a long shot, though. I used to visit Cerinia every few years, but she's told me that I shouldn't come back anymore. She said it's not a good idea for non-natives to visit. So, what I'm saying is that I'd need to give her a very good reason for why she should let you through their defense network.

"If she cares about her planet, she'll listen to me," Fox declared.

"Interesting," said Mrs. Altruis, "Tell you what—I'll get in touch with her and set up a call with her and us. Are you in a position where you can pay a visit to Sky City?"

"Actually, I was already planning on that. Through a surprise series of events, my team and I picked up a Cerinian refugee who claimed she was told to go to you for safety."

Mrs. Altruis sounded surprised. "Krystal? Yes—my contact on Cerinia arranged for me to take care of her, since it's not safe for her on her home planet. How did you end up with her?"

"Her people caught up with her," Fox replied. "We rescued her before they had a chance to destroy her ship."

"Whoa, Hyacinth wasn't kidding about her being in danger," the woman all but whispered. "Please, bring her with you. I'll get in touch with Hyacinth and set up a call, and when you get here, you can make your case for why you should be allowed to visit the planet."

"Deal," Fox replied.

"Oh, I'm so happy I'm finally going to meet you, Fox!" Mrs. Altruis exclaimed. "When can you get here?"

Fox looked over his shoulder through the screen door at Scarlet, who stood in the center of the bedroom with her tail anxiously twitching. "I don't know exactly, but I'm going to shoot for later today, probably four hours at the soonest. Do I need anything to visit Sky City?"

"Yes," said the woman, "You'll need an airspace security pass and a landing code. I'll be happy to send both of those your way as soon as this call is done. Is this a good number for you?"

"It is now," Fox replied, deciding that whether Scarlet liked it or not, he would be keeping this device for himself—at least for the time being.

"Got it. See you soon, Fox."

"Thanks, Mrs. Altruis,"

"Oh come on, you don't have to be so formal—just call me Karen."

The call abruptly ended, leaving Fox with Scarlet's borrowed device held up to his ear.

Walking through the sliding door into the bedroom, he approached Scarlet, who asked, "Well? What did she say?"

"She said she'll get in touch with her Cerinian friend and make arrangements for me to talk with her," Fox replied.

Scarlet allowed a faint half-smile to appear on her lips. "Maybe this plan actually does have a chance of working. I guess the next step is for me to take you back to your ship."

Fox nodded. "Yep. Once I'm there, I'll start getting ready to head to Sky City. I'll take Krystal with me, so once my meeting with your mother is over, she won't be our problem anymore."

"What do you mean, 'our' problem?" Scarlet scowled. "She's yours to deal with."

Crossing his arms, Fox commented, "You would have blown up her ship too if you had the chance, wouldn't you?"

Scarlet returned a sheepish glare. "Maybe."

Giving his head a subtle shake, Fox replied, "Well, I'm glad you weren't in the position to make that call. She wouldn't have deserved that."

The vixen scowled, saying nothing for several seconds until she grumbled, "Let's get you back to the Great Fox."

- § -

Eleven months ago…

Creating the exotic cable ends required to adapt power to the arcane plug built into the side of the alien crystal proved to be less of a challenge for Dr. Voltimure Reige than he expected. However, he had no idea what level of current to run through it…or if that was even a good idea.

Regardless, he could not help himself. At the very least, if it was lit up in the same way it was when he found it onboard the wrecked warship in the center of the Aparoid Wilds, the crystal would look pretty. He recalled it being powered, or at least maintained, by two crawler Aparoids—not a tremendous source of energy.

Surrounded by computers, monitors, jury-rigged electronic devices, and enough wire to simulate a brain, he pulled a small power conditioner off a shelf and connected his bespoke power cable to it. He turned it on, starting with the lowest voltage the machine could output.

When he reached three volts, he noticed the crystal's haunting blue glow returning, as if emanating from a fixture built into it. But the more he looked at it, the more he realized that the crystal itself possessed a natural light that reacted to electric current. The light was still softer than he remembered it being, so he raised the output from his power conditioner until the glow from the crystal neared the amount of light coming from the clinical white lamps in his underground laboratory.

Feeling like he had reached a safe limit to the amount of power he was willing to pump into the ancient shard, he stepped back, only to notice faint, ghostly trails radiating off the edge of the crystal.

"Oh blazes, I've overloaded it," he thought, darting over to his power conditioner to lower the output. However, when he decreased it, the wisps remained unchanged even though the crystal itself darkened somewhat. He noticed his heart rate spiking and his breath shortening. Turning the power level back up slightly, he moved closer to the crystal and stared into it.

In spite of his own skeptical nature when it came to the supernatural, he felt an immense, immaterial presence in the room with him—identical to the one he encountered in the wrecked warship. Despite his better angels screaming at him to refrain, he moved his right hand closer to the crystal. The wispy blue trails swirled around his hand, rustling his fur and giving the skin under it the subtlest of scratches.

He realized at that point that despite carrying the crystal out of the warship in his mech suit, he had never touched it while it was powered up. The unspoken presence in the room seemed to beckon him to do exactly that. But he feared an indiscernible, potentially negative outcome. So, instead of touching it by hand, he pulled a pencil off his nearby desk and tapped at the crystal's surface with it. The instant the graphite tip touched the rock, it sent a small ripple through the crystal. But nothing else came of it.

"Well, here goes nothing, I suppose."

Steeling himself for something he feared he would not be able to define, he reached out with his hand and placed it on the crystal. The imprint of his hand caused a sizable ripple in the side of the relic. At the exact same time, the presence in the room became a presence in his mind. A chill ran up his spine. He pulled back his arm, but it refused to move. Panic setting in, he grabbed his right arm with his left hand and yanked it backwards. The trick worked, and his right hand disconnected from the crystal with a squelching sound.

Voltimure stared at his hand while the wisps from the crystal danced around it. It did not seem injured or altered, but it did feel abnormally numb. But as he stared at his hand, an unmistakable yet soundless voice echoed through his mind.

"Release me, or forever let me sleep."

Despite occupying the frame of a colossal lupine monstrosity, he found himself trembling. He looked around his lab, spotting on his desk the other trinkets that he had taken from the wreck. In particular, he stared at the vial containing the disembodied finger suspended in a purple liquid. Suddenly, it made sense, in a way that only he had both the capacity to understand and to act upon.

Hands shaking, he seated himself at his desk, snapped a pair of medical gloves onto his hands, and opened the vial. A bizarre chemical scent overpowered his nose the instant he cracked the seal, disorienting him for a moment before he picked up a forceps and extracted the severed finger from its container.

Opening a computer program he had not used in years, he began the process of genetic analysis that he had mastered in his past life. For hours, he operated the tools, scopes, imagers, and predictive analytic programs that he had accumulated from decades of DNA research. And after an obsessive marathon session, he succeeded in extracting a representative genetic sample from the mummified finger.

Inputting the data into the program he had written to help engineer his current body, he tasked the software with creating a predictive render of the DNA's owner. This process was rarely ever 100% accurate, but it often got close.

After several minutes of computing, the program concluded, leaving a rendered image of a vulpine woman—but not of a kind he had seen before. The render suggested a tall, lanky build—roughly two meters in height—with black skin, barely visible dark blue fur, a long, bushy tail, a sharp, pronounced muzzle, compact but dense muscles, heavy, durable bones, tall, pointy ears, long, black hair, and orange eyes with black scleras.

Voltimure stared at the render, unsure of what to make of it. He told himself that the render was not a guaranteed representation of the genetic information he had given to the program, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was not far off.

The rendered creature frightened him. Despite it not being particularly massive in any way other than height, its build and composition suggested a race optimized for survival in severe, suboptimal conditions that would prove fatal for most mammalian life forms—a calling card of sorts for a lineage that, if adapted to an advanced, spacefaring civilization, would likely thrive on grit, cutthroat machinations, and the projection of raw power.

And if that was not enough, certain characteristics in the sampled DNA matched with data he had taken from Neron Taero, suggesting that the source of this genetic information had telepathic abilities—potentially stronger than Neron's. And if what Neron had told Voltimure was true, he was an uncommonly powerful telepath for his kind.

Taking a moment to let his research sink in, Voltimure turned around and stared at the crystal. It still glowed, but the ghostly trails surrounding it had long since vanished. He looked back at the render on his monitor and muttered aloud, as if the woman on the screen could hear him.

"So you want me to reconstruct you?"