The Bossk Man's recommended listening:
Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Great Fox II
Fox shook his head as he re-read the message on his datapad for what had to be the hundredth time. Finally, he set the device aside and leaned back in his command chair.
"A Goddamn Senate summons, really? With everything that's going on right now? I swear, I think going into politics rots your brain," the vulpine lamented.
From his spot at the navigation console, Peppy shook his head.
"Fox, I can remember my dad and my grandad saying that sort of stuff when I was a kid. Suffice it to say, the political class has been like that for a very long time."
Locking eyes with his adoptive son, the leporine added, "Let's just worry about getting Lucy back and putting Clegg and his cronies six feet under."
"Right," Fox replied.
Outside of the main viewport, the green hue of hyperspace faded and was replaced by Papetoon. Fox smiled at the sight of his father's homeworld, with its mostly forested northern hemisphere and its mainly desert southern hemisphere.
"Haven't been here in years," he mused before activating his chair's built-in communicator.
"Dale, it's Fox. We've just arrived in orbit."
"Perfect timing, Foxy. We're at the airfield."
"Alright, we'll see you down there."
After ending the call, Fox and Peppy stood up and left the bridge. Using the lift, the two mercenaries descended to the hangar, where the rest of the team and their allies were already preparing their fighters for departure.
Fox walked up to his Arwing and climbed into the cockpit. The vulpine ran through his preflight checks and then closed the canopy.
From there, Fox watched as a timer counted down on his HUD. Once it hit zero, the vulpine slammed his foot on the boost pedal and rocketed out into the void of space with the aid of a catapult.
Once the rest of his teammates joined him in formation, Fox set a waypoint on his HUD and sent it to the others.
"Alright guys, let's find Lucy."
The small squadron of fighters flew down into Papetoon's atmosphere, headed towards an airfield in the northern hemisphere.
Down on the surface, a pair of rust-coloured vulpines sat in an off-road vehicle, the younger of the two scanning the skies with a pair of binoculars.
"Here they come, Daddy," he said.
The older fox nodded before asking, "How many of em, Adrian?"
"I count eleven."
"Right," the older fox said before adding, "Son, go rent us another one of these. And take out some extra insurance. It's a safe bet that those crooks are packing heat."
"Sure thing, Pa,"
Adrian lowered his binoculars and climbed out of the off-roader. His father meanwhile, watched as the Arwings, Cornerian fighter, and Invader prototype landed. Once the dust had settled, the vulpine got out of his vehicle and walked over.
"Well, well, well," the older man called out, "The Hero of Lylat has finally come home."
That was enough to grab Fox's attention. The orange-furred vulpine smiled mirthfully.
"Hello to you too, Dale," Fox replied before walking up and embracing his relative.
The rest of the mercenaries gathered as the two vulpines parted. Fox turned to his teammates.
"Everyone, this is Dale Essex. My father's cousin."
"How y'all doin?" the older tod said with a wave.
"Been better," Peppy replied glumly.
Dale's smile fell off of his muzzle as he remembered the mercenaries' reason for being on Papetoon in the first place.
"From one father to another, Peppy, we'll get your daughter back."
The group's attention was drawn by Adrian pulling up in a rented off-roader. As Dale's son dismounted from the vehicle, he locked eyes with Fox, who grinned before saying, "Cousin,"
"Cous," Adrian replied before pulling Fox into a hug.
Adrian broke the embrace and then met Fara's gaze.
"Fara," he said, "It's been a while."
"Indeed it has, Adrian," the fennec replied.
"Well," Fox interrupted, "Why don't we get going?"
The vulpine tapped some buttons on his wristcom, transferring the location of Clegg's call to Dale. Taking his datapad out of the pocket of his denim vest, the older vulpine took note of the area.
"This is out near Drummond," Dale murmured, "Gonna take us a while to get there."
"All the more time to catch up and get to know everyone, Daddy," Adrian remarked.
"Right."
From there, the group split up, with Fox, Krystal, Peppy, Bill, Fay, and Miyu going with Dale in his off-roader and Fara, Falco, Amanda, Slippy, and Katt going with Adrian.
As the two vehicles got under way, Dale started chatting up Krystal.
"So if you're really a mind reader, what number am I thinkin' of?" the older fox asked with a chuckle.
"Sixty nine," Krystal coyly replied.
Dale laughed and then reached over to the passenger's seat and gave Fox a nudge.
"This one's a keeper, Foxy."
"Don't have to tell me twice, Dale," answered the younger vulpine.
Peppy remained quiet on the entire ride towards and through Drummond. All the hare could think about was rescuing Lucy and avenging Vixy's death.
"Your carcass is mine, you scaly bastard."
It took nearly two hours to drive through Drummond and to the outskirts, Dale occasionally checking the location of the traced call on his vehicle's nav screen. Finally, the vulpine pulled over to the side of the road and signaled for Adrian to do the same.
"We'll go in on foot from here," Dale said as he killed the engine.
After everyone gathered up their weapons, they studied a topographic map of the area on Fox's wristcom.
"I'll take half and go left," Dale stated, "The rest of y'all go right with Adrian."
After some murmurs of agreement, the group split up and headed into the treeline. Several minutes passed as they weaved through the forest, slowly but surely closing in the hideout of Clegg and his gang. However, an odor in the air gave them pause.
"Smells like somebody had themselves a bonfire," Dale said quietly.
Fox responded by glancing towards Krystal, who placed her index and middle fingers on her temple.
"I can only sense the others," she said, "No signs of Clegg or any of his gang."
Seeing the crestfallen expressions on Fox and Peppy's faces, the cobalt vixen added, "We should still check it out. There might be a clue."
With that, the group pressed onwards, soon coming up to the edge of the tree line. They peered down a hill at the charred remains of a house. Peppy made to move towards it, only for Dale to put an arm out.
"I get it Peps, you're worried sick. But just cause Clegg and his boys have flown the coop, that doesn't mean they haven't left some booby traps."
From there, the group proceeded at a much more cautious pace. Eventually, Fox caught sight of a tripwire hidden among the tree branches and signaled for the others to stop.
"Good eye, Foxy," Dale remarked before tracing the wire to its source, a standard Titanian-issue mine.
"Adrian," the older fox spoke into his commlink, "How're things on your end?"
"Came across some tripwire mines, Daddy," his son replied.
"Same here."
Ending the call, Dale went up to the mine and drew a hunting knife. Quickly remembering his bomb defusal training, Fox took his old Academy-issue multi-tool out of his vest pocket and brought out the wire cutters.
Glancing over his shoulder at his teammates, the vulpine said, "You guys might wanna take cover, just in case."
After everyone had gotten into cover, or thrown up a barrier in Krystal's case, Dale stuck his knife in between the striker and the blast plate of the mine.
"Ready when you are, Foxy."
Taking in a breath, Fox snipped the tripwire. There were audible sighs of relief when nothing happened.
A few more mines were dispatched in much the same fashion before the group were able to approach the charred remains of Clegg's hideout. They spread out, but couldn't seem to find anything that might give them a lead. At least, until Adrian noticed something under a pile of rubble.
Moving it aside with his foot, the vulpine spied a communicator and called out, "Over here," to the others.
Peppy was the first to arrive and quickly snatched the device up from the ground. Holding it in his hand, the lepus quickly determined that the communicator was issued by the University of Fichina.
"And knowing Lucy," Peppy thought to himself, "She probably changed the default password."
Peppy thought for a moment before keying in the year Lucy was born. He frowned when the device buzzed and told him that it was an incorrect password.
"Worth a try," the leporine mumbled before handing the device to Slippy.
"See what you can do."
Slippy quickly took a data spike out of his jacket pocket and plugged it into the communicator, quickly bypassing the password screen. The toad frowned when he saw what was on the display.
"What is it, Slip?" Peppy asked.
Glancing at Krystal, who had let out an angered grunt, Slippy replied, "Uh, there's a message. I'm not sure you guys…."
"Show us," Fox interrupted.
Reluctantly, Slippy pressed a button on the side, displaying the message for the group.
'See you soon, idiots!'
Fox, Krystal, and Peppy narrowed their eyes as an uneasy silence fell over the group, a silence that was broken by Dale clearing his throat.
"Well, it doesn't look like there's much more we can do here. So why don't we head back to my place and figure out what to do next over some of my dear Martha's fine cooking?"
Fox took a breath and looked around at his friends.
"He's right. The trail's gone cold."
The vulpine smiled mirthfully.
"Besides, a home cooked meal from Martha is not something to be turned down."
…..
"Ow, my head,"
That was Carmen's first thought upon regaining consciousness. The dingo reached up and felt a bandage wrapped around her forehead.
Cracking her brown eyes open, Carmen surveyed her surroundings. She was laying on a cot in what appeared to be a starship's quarters.
A glance towards a corner of the ceiling showed that there was a hole in the hull that was covered with a plastic tarp. That, along with the muggy heat, told Carmen that she was still on Fortuna.
Continuing her observation, the dingo saw her gun belt hanging on a nearby chair and suddenly recalled being carried through the jungle by a lupine who was not Wolf.
Letting out a breath, Carmen sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the cot. She felt the aches and pains of being thrown by Monarch Dodora as she stretched out her sore limbs.
Even so, Carmen was already thinking of her next actions as she belted on her blaster.
"Priority One: Figure this situation out. Priority Two: Regroup with the guys."
With that in mind, Carmen went up to the door, and out of habit, pressed the open button.
After nothing happened, the dingo took note that the only sounds she was hearing were the chirps of the local wildlife rather than the whirs and hums of starship machinery.
Shaking her head, Carmen found the manual release and slid the door aside. Poking her head into the corridor, the dingo's ears twitched at the sound of voices. Leaving the room, Carmen followed the noise up the short corridor, eventually reaching a cargo bay, and two brown-furred wolves in conversation. The younger of the two noticed her out of the corner of his eye while Carmen noted the sword strapped to his back.
"Ah, you're awake," the wolf said as he turned to face her, "I was just about to check on you."
Carmen eyed the duo up before replying, "You're not Venomians, and I'm pretty sure you aren't after my bounty. So it begs the question, who are you guys?"
The older wolf cleared his throat.
"I am Randorn Glidewell. And this is my grandson, Sabre."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sanders," the younger lupine curtsied.
Carmen raised an eyebrow as, for reasons that she couldn't quite put her finger on, those names sounded familiar to her.
"Well, I guess I should say thanks for getting me out of there," the dingo stated before adding, "But I should really be getting back to my team."
Randorn opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sounds of starfighter engines from outside. Sounds that Carmen recognized as belonging to Wolfens.
"Looks like they found me," the dingo remarked before heading down the entrance ramp, not noticing the two wolves exchange a look and follow her outside.
Carmen watched as the quartet of black and crimson fighters descended into the clearing. The dingo squinted and then frowned when she saw that only one of the ships was occupied.
"What the hell?"
The canopy of the occupied fighter opened, revealing its pilot to be Leon. The lizard climbed down and locked gazes with the dingo.
"Well Rookie, you're a little banged up, but you can still fight," the chameleon assessed.
Carmen blinked in confusion before asking, "Leon, where's Wolf and Panther?"
Leon shook his head before replying, "The Venomians grabbed them. The whole thing with the beast was a trap to kill us."
Carmen's mouth fell open as the implications sank in.
"A trap. Then that means…."
Muzzle curled back in a snarl, Carmen turned and kicked over a pile of wood, letting out an anguished howl.
"FUCK!"
Breathing heavily, the dingo growled, "They leaked that intel on purpose! They knew Dad would pass it on to me!"
Leon crossed his arms.
"Hey Rookie, the good news is, I managed to plant a tracker on their shuttle. So quit bellyaching and mount up."
"I hate to interrupt, but I think we can be of some help to you," Randorn stated.
Turning his gaze onto the elderly wolf, Leon replied, "No offense, old timer, but we don't even know you two."
"Even so, they saved me," Carmen put in, though it did little to convince the lizard.
Picking up on this, Randorn pointed his wooden staff at the woodpile that Carmen had kicked over. Both outlaws watched in astonishment as the logs neatly stacked themselves up again before turning back to the two wolves.
"Alright gramps," Leon growled while narrowing his yellow eyes, "What's the gag? How did you do that?"
"Perhaps it's time to properly introduce myself. Grand Mage Randorn Glidewell, at your service," the lupine said with a wry grin.
It was then that Carmen understood why she found their names familiar.
"Pardon me for asking, but are you guys Cerinians?"
"We are," Sabre answered while glancing at the dingo.
Leon meanwhile, set his hands on his hips.
"The blue girl's gonna lose her shit when she hears about this," the lizard grumbled, which caught Sabre's attention.
"Excuse me," the wolf said with a fair bit of anxiety in his voice, "But is this girl a fox? Probably in her early twenties?"
Quickly connecting the dots in her head, Carmen stated, "You guys knew Krystal Burrell, didn't you?"
The dingo watched as Sabre's green eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
"Y-Yes, I knew her," stammered the lupine, "As a Knight, I was part of her protection detail."
"And I was her mentor," Randorn put in, "A bright young soul. Might have even married into the Royal family if things had, well, played out differently."
Taking the elder wolf's meaning, Carmen walked up to Leon.
"Look," she said in a tone low enough that Randorn and Sabre couldn't hear, "I know you don't want to do this, but these two could help us save Wolf and Panther. At the very least, we owe them a ride off of here for saving me."
Leon pinched the spot between his eyes.
"Alright Rookie, you've got a point. But you're responsible for these two. They screw up, it's on you."
Carmen narrowed her eyes and replied, "Duly noted."
Leon let out an annoyed huff and turned towards the two Cerinians.
"Congratulations gentlemen. We're gonna give you a ride off this planet."
Spotting their hopeful expressions, Leon shook his head.
"Let's get something straight. I'm in charge, and when I'm not around, the Rookie is."
Though Sabre bristled at Leon's order, Randorn replied, "Understood."
Nodding, Leon checked the tracking signal on his wristcom.
"Flight path puts them on route to Papetoon," murmured the chameleon.
Turning his gaze back to the two wolves, Leon added, "Pack whatever you think you need. We're leaving in five, with or without you."
"And we may end up in Papetoon's northern hemisphere, so you may wanna dress a little warmer," Carmen put in while retrieving her black flight suit and gray vest from her Wolfen.
Three minutes went by as the two Cerinians packed up whatever provisions they thought they might need, as well as taking Carmen's advice and throwing on clothes that, while they were not suited for Fortuna's tropical climate, would be perfect if they ended up in Northern Papetoon.
"Alright," Leon stated, "Sir Lancer, you're riding with me. Old man, you're with the Rookie."
Sabre opened his mouth to say something, but held his tongue upon receiving a gentle nudge from his grandfather. Instead, the lupine lugged his pack over to Leon's Wolfen and stowed it in the cargo hold before climbing into the cockpit and settling behind the pilot's seat.
After Randorn did the same with Carmen's fighter, he waited until the canopy closed before remarking, "That Leon is a rather strange young man."
The dingo snorted before replying, "That's putting it mildly, to say the least."
As Carmen ran through her preflight checks and began flipping switches, a look of worry played out across her features.
"Hang on guys. We're on our way," the dingo thought as she felt her Wolfen come to life.
Papetoon
Kurt Lowe took a drag on his cigarette and pressed his back against the wall of the Venomian base. Watching Solar set behind the rim of the valley where the Remnant had set up shop, the iguana was grateful for his thermal suit and parka. Papetoonian nights were notoriously cold regardless of what part of the planet you were on.
Hearing the sounds of approaching aircraft, Kurt squinted and was able to make out five fast-approaching dots in front of the sun. A grin creased the lizard's snout as the quartet of Invader IVs got close enough for him to see their custom paint jobs.
As the starfighters and the shuttle touched down on the landing pad, Kurt dropped the remains of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot before walking towards the ships.
Kurt watched happily as the pilots of the Invaders dismounted, his red eyes soon falling on a sportive lemur.
"Algy Hoffman, you look like you've grown a couple inches," the lizard taunted.
Algy's response was to shoot a dirty look at Kurt and then stalk towards him with a raised fist.
The primate growled, "Why you Goddamn…." before grabbing Kurt's wrist and pulling him into a hug.
"How're you doing, old bud?"
"Fine, and you?" Kurt replied before catching Rena's eye.
Setting her hands on her hips, the coywolf cracked a wide smile.
"Kurtis Lowe, as I live and breathe," she said as she walked up to the lizard and embraced him.
"Good to finally see you again, Renata."
Rena's ear twitched at the mention of her full name. Aside from her late mother, Kurt was the only person who ever used it to address her.
Parting from the canine, Kurt set his sights on Zeke and Heinrich.
"Boys," he said before embracing the vulture and the armadillo.
His reunions complete, Kurt turned his attention to the jackal and the hyena who had flown in on the shuttle.
"Lieutenant Charles Warren, Imperial Army," the jackal stated in a curt tone when they shook hands.
The hyena proved to be much more jovial.
"Mage Cain Davros," he said with a grin, "And you must be the Kurt that Rena keeps talking about."
"Yeah, that's me," replied the iguana, "Their friend on the force. Or at least, I used to be on the force."
As the group walked towards the base, Rena caught sight of a pair of silver vulpines in conversation with a German Shepherd. One of the foxes glanced over his shoulder. Upon spotting the coywolf, his brow furrowed and he turned back around, though Rena could hear "Bitch," from his thoughts.
Rena was stunned at first, but a devious smile soon crept onto her muzzle. The coywolf tapped into the man's thoughts and sent a small psychic wave his way. She let out a small chuckle as the man grabbed his forehead in pain.
"Very good, my student. Very good," Cain mentally signaled.
Elsewhere, Robert Zimmerman rubbed his forehead, surprised at the sudden onset of a migraine. His brother Simon watched him with a raised eyebrow.
The headache passed as quickly as it had set in, resulting in the vulpine brothers turning their attention to the German Shepherd known only to them as Agent Cyan.
"As I was saying," the canine murmured in a gruff tone, "The two of you do what I say, when I say to do it, and we might just be able to pull this off. No fuck ups like last time."
Both of the Zimmerman brothers nodded in understanding before the trio's attention was grabbed by an approaching shuttle.
"That'll be the Fortuna team," Agent Cyan said as he lit up a cigarette.
The three canids watched as the shuttle touched down on the landing pad and begin disgorging Spec Ops troops, four of whom were dragging along the unconscious forms of Wolf O'Donnell and Panther Caroso.
Simon watched with a particular interest, his lips skinning back from his teeth in a wicked smile.
"I am going to have so much fun with those two."
Astropolis
Dr. Edward Gaines sat at his workstation within the Venomian space station's restricted levels, the blue light from his computer monitor reflecting off of his black fur. The rat moved his beady eyes away from the schematics on screen and to the robot under construction on the other side of his office window.
The Armamech Mark II, an upgrade to the first line of Venomian robot soldiers. Compared to its predecessor, the Mark II was bulkier in appearance and, once the last parts were fitted to this particular unit, it would be given a red and gold paint job.
Two platoons had been completed over the last six months, with one being sent off for a field test, though where and when, Marshal Koates hadn't said, and Dr. Gaines knew better than to ask.
A chiming from his datapad brought the rat's attention away from his work. Checking his watch, Gaines muttered, "That time already?" before closing down his terminal and standing up.
The rat walked through the various cubicles and offices of the Advanced Weapons and Technologies Division before arriving at the security desk, where two Navy men awaited.
The salamander was known to the scientist as Grand Admiral Zoran Payne, while the other man, a black-wooled sheep, seemed vaguely familiar.
"Dr. Gaines," Payne curtsied before holding out a datapad.
"You'll find all our signatures on it."
The rat nodded as he used his index finger to scrawl his own signature on the screen and then handed the device back to the Navy chief.
"Right this way, gentlemen."
Gaines led the two officers towards a lift and keyed in the deck number. As the elevator began its ascent, the junior Navy man introduced himself.
"Admiral Ian Bartok, Eleventh Fleet."
"Dr. Edward Gaines," the scientist replied before asking, "Have we met before?"
Bartok nodded and stated, "I was the XO of the Iconoclast during the Cerinian operation."
"Ah yes, I remember now. My condolences for your brother."
Admiral Bartok raised an eyebrow.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Doc, but William was an asshole. I figured him for dead long ago."
With a ding, the elevator doors slid aside, revealing a long corridor with a viewport at the end. As the trio left the lift and got closer, they could see the outline of a starship, cast in an eerie pink light by the nebula the space station was situated over.
But this was no ordinary starship, as evidenced by the massive cannon on its bow. Conceived when Andross had still been in power, the early plans had referred to it as the Betrayer-class battleship. After the junta had formed on Astropolis in the Lylat War's wake, they had changed the name to the same one etched onto the side of the ship.
VIS Vindicator
"Your new ship, Ian," Grand Admiral Payne intoned while waving his hand across the length of the ship.
Bartok cracked a smile.
"Oh, she's a beauty, Sir."
The Admiral then noticed the numerous construction drones flying around the ship and turned his attention to Gaines.
"What's the ETA on her, Doc?"
Dr. Gaines put a hand on his chin before answering, "With the resources coming in from our Kewian and Eladardian friends, coupled with what we'll be getting upon the success of Operation Reclamation, I estimate that we'll be done in less than three years."
"Good, good," the sheep hummed as he set his sights on the half-finished battleship.
"Imagine, being in Cornerian orbit with that. It would be just like Cerinia."
"I doubt we would have to resort to such a measure," Payne put in, "This ship was conceived first and foremost as a fleet killer, though it can kill a planet. Though of course, if their navy is in pieces, what options do they have?"
"Two, Sir," Bartok replied.
"Surrender, or die."