4 - The Loose End
Corneria
Lylat System
Mjahl Spaceport, Hangar 93
Evening
James, Jana and Falco stepped off the moving platform to the outskirts of hangar nine-three.
The trio had deboarded the Javelina about thirty minutes ago, enough time to have watched the yellow light of Lylat set. Solar wasn't quite so ready to call it quits; and it cast its soft red beams through the multi-storey windows in the terminals.
Mjahl was the largest spaceport in Corneria's equatorial region. Conceived as the union's second largest port-of-call, the ostensible intent of the three-hundred kilometer footprint of megaliths and landing pads was to provide a more functional distribution point for Corneria's economic interests. It wasn't a place James had been before, and after enduring the long walk and the ambient heat on the landing pad; he decided to avoid it in the future.
The terminal was leased to a wide-array of labelless government organizations, but their heavily-guarded destination was set at the furthest point from civilian arrivals. They made their way to the cordon.
Security made him throw out his latte of course, the bastards. Jana was apparently free to do as she wished, as the guards had their inspector drones complete a quick once-over, only opening and physically lifting the bottles inside the cooler she'd brought. After a few seconds of inspection they tagged it clean. A few more scans from their PDAs and additional scrutiny from the disk-shaped aerial drones, and they were allowed forward.
Jana received an orange badge; signifying she had the highest level of clearance available without special permissions from the Union. Falco received a blue lanyard with red badge; he had some history with the agency, so he was allowed a basic level of access.
James' entry, on the other hand, was causing some additional delay.
The Star Fox trio were about to clear the second tier of access control for the Internal Security Service's private hangar space, often referred to as 'the nine-three', until James' background investigation hit a snag.
"Wait a second, you!" The portly feline challenged, singling James out as he shadowed his sister.
James pointed at himself with a raise of his eyebrow.
"McCloud, James, P," the orange tabby cat confirmed, reading the words off his PDA. He'd said it without the pomp and circumstance James' usually received for it.
He really hasn't pieced it together? James thought, his ego slightly bruised at the indignity.
"Present," James snapped back. His tone was intended to be irritating. The cat looked up from his screen, still not at all cognizant of who he was talking to. This, naturally, marched James' steadily closer to a creeping identity crisis.
The guard wasn't as conflicted. "You need to turn around A-S-A-P. You have nothing in our system whatsoever. Not even an actuarial clearance!"
James approached the counter and leaned over, immediately appreciating the familiar silhouette of the rubberized, monocoque receiver of the cat's slung model-two carbine. This did wonders to reduce the simmer of James' temper, who suddenly hoped the charm would fix this misunderstanding. 'More flies with honey,' and all that.
"Well, you'll be pleased to know I'm not here to do your taxes."
Jana closed her eyes and ran her fingers up through her forehead's fur, while Falco merely shook his head in awkward disapproval.
The feline was, as expected, not pleased. He bared teeth as he stood and was about to escalate the situation. James noticed he had a firm grip on a stasis gun on his belt. James was about to relent.
"Make an exception, Corporal," a grizzled voice erupted from the cat's earpiece. James presumed it had been Admiral Leinch's. The ambient voice was so loud that James heard it from nearly ten meters away, certainly causing permanent hearing damage to the poor guard.
"Right away, Admiral Leinchs!" The animal snapped, with full courtesy required for a flag officer.
After a few moments huffing and puffing over his PDA. He printed out a blank white badge and handed it to James. It read 'Civilian - Other' for clearance. He handed it to James with a scowl on his face.
Jana led, naturally, and James followed. This was her old stomping grounds, after all.
None of the trio thanked the guards as they passed through the vaulted door; just arms swinging and tails bobbing. What awaited James on the other side was not really an interior decorator's dream, nor did it excite the imagination.
The layout of nine-three was, in the most positive description, a fluorescent maze of sound-deadening cubicles and office space divided by thin hallways. It was clear to James that it had been set up on the fly as a contingency operation, probably as a result of the ISS being deemed too controversial for Corneria City by the current political class.
Swept under the rug. James thought, enjoying the sporadic attention he was getting as the trio walked the hallway to the desired meeting spot. A couple dogs whispered as he walked through, and a fellow vulpes nearly dropped a four-pack of coffee she was shuttling elsewhere. The Admirals staffers, to be sure.
In truth, James wasn't just skeptical of the ISS; he hated it altogether.
Its charter didn't sit right to James. Spying on his fellow animals; a history and lineage soaked in blood and billions of credits spent to oppress entire communities. There wasn't much in the way of threats other than the odd fascist terrorist cells or pirates these days, and his father had practically seen the end to the latter. The organization's name might've changed a dozen or so times over the years, but its dark shadow still cast across the galaxy.
Being near the heart of the ISS did little to alleviate his harsh view on the agency. James wasn't cleared for any of this, so he'd be signing some rather forceful non-disclosure agreements later.
Jana took a sudden left, entering the briefing room. James followed her through the archway. The sealed door closed behind him as another sliding door opened to his front. They had arrived at the agreed upon location, and it was disappointing to say the least.
James expected a spectacular wooden table, soundproof walls and state of the art augmented reality tools. Instead, the space had been set up as an afterthought. By the looks of it; it had been a break room by the previous tenant. There were dated cabinets and a thirty-year-old refrigerator buzzing in the far corner of the room. The walls were adorned with antique wartime inspirational posters from the Lylat Wars. The floor was checkered linoleum, missing and chipped tiles in certain areas. Ancient looking.
Jana seated herself professionally at the end of the table. Her arms rested on her lap. Falco backed up his adoptive warlord from the far corner; back to the wall, front facing the door. His chair leaned against the wall as he rested his feet up on another chair. The bird crossed his arms behind his head.
James sat across from his twin, slouching forward and resting his head on hand. He didn't think he was projecting any sort of attitude, and hoped to keep quiet for most of the meeting. The more he absorbed, the more he'd learn. This was his chance to be taken seriously.
The Admiral and his aide-de-camp, Arjun, walked in less than a minute later.
Both were in civilian clothes; finely tailored suits with white buttons down. Leinchs looked relieved that he didn't need to deal with the typical military pomp and ice breaking that came with being top brass. James noted the black-furred terrier was a bit taller than he'd expected someone his genus to be, but dogs came in all shapes and sizes so it was hard to predict.
Arjun, a massively large red elephant, seated himself on a wooden bench by the door. He immediately whipped out his pocket PDA and expanded the holoscreen with brisk tap and drag. A man of few words, to be sure.
"Jana," the terrier singled out pleasantly. She nodded with a grin.
"Evening, Daryn," She greeted, lifting and shaking the cooler carrying her carbonated amber tribute. There was the pleasing sound of glass clacking together. "As promised. A Peace offering for last month."
"Last month? For all the work I send you?" He replied, feigning disbelief. It was convincing, so much so that Jana appeared to have taken it personally.
"Well, I know you need our help," she stated plainly.
Leinch's eyes narrowed. "I know you need our money."
A tense looking moment passed; two serious looks exchanged between two serious people with two different grasps on power. Jana broke first, grinning wryly as she stood to shake the Admiral's hands. The old terrier followed, slapping her on the shoulder mid-shake.
"Welcome home. Jay-Em. We've missed you."
The flag officer looked and sounded genuinely touched. James knew his sister had worked for him, but they apparently were a bit closer than he realized. After shaking, Jana placed the cooler on the table and slid it with a firm push.
"All is forgiven," he said warmly, studying the gift before averting his attention to James.
"Another McCloud," the terrier said, shifting his gaze to Jimmy. "I never thought we'd see the day."
Arjun, meanwhile, looked up from his PDA with a look of mild disdain or inconvenience.
"You almost didn't," James responded assertively. He didn't really know how people in intelligence greeted each other. James was making all of this up as he went and defaulted his demeanor to match what he'd seen in films.
"Falco. Good to see you too."
Falco merely grunted in response.
"Shall we?" the Admiral started, standing by the head of the table James supposed the man wanted to speed things up to get to his evening drink.
From the corner of James' vision, he caught Falco curtsying sardonically.
The Admiral snarled a bit as he pulled what looked like a plastic puck from his pocket. While in this kitchenette-briefing room, they would be bathed with non-ionizing radiation to inhibit any hidden electronic recording device they may have brought in with them. Radio frequencies would be digitally filled with nonce data to prevent outside interception.
The admiral tapped the activator and slid the radiation emitter to the middle of the table. There was an audible crackling and hum as the radiation field emitted from the puck-like device.
"James, I apologize if no one warned you about these," the Admiral began. His voice was tinny from the modulated radio frequencies in the radiation field. It wasn't unbearable, but it wasslightly uncomfortable. Like a nail on a chalkboard at the end of each sentence. Awful.
"Now!" Leinchs chirped, "Let's get started. I know Jana hates bullshitting, it's getting late, and I want to start drinking."
With the tap of his finger, he released his PDA from his wrist. It hovered for a moment before projecting two holographic screens. The projection quality wasn't quite up to modern standard; these secure devices were usually a few years behind if James' remembered.
"I know it's been awhile, but I'm happy to say I'm paying for a longer job this time. Like I told Jana yesterday, it's not a training gig."
It was what the group expected. With that out of the way, he removed three trapezoidal micro-PDAs from his pocket. He tossed one to each Star Fox member. Falco caught his mid-air, while Jana prevented hers from sliding off the table. James dropped his, and scrambled to pick it up.
Now rotating gracefully in midair, the flag officer's own PDA projected an image of a planet over the table. James was immediately familiar with it; a place he was obsessed with as a child but had never been.
Visually, it was a diverse mix of deserts, grasslands and tundras. There were two large seas visible, not a lot of lakes. There was a reddish belt on the equator, probably hundreds of kilometers wide. There weren't really any major forests to speak of, but the local trees were massive.
Udeav, James recognized, what needs doing on that Gods-forsaken planet?
"Udaev-Minor is a planet all of you have tremendous history with," Leinchs began. "I won't insult your intelligence and experience with unnecessary details. All the local intel work will be in the packet if you need it."
James, who was reclining his chair as far back as possible, took his hand out from behind his head and leaned forward. Jana's index became more of a squeeze, her eyes narrowing a bit. Falco's legendary ability to hyper-focus emerged, he nearly stood before collecting himself.
"So, let's talk through some important context first before we get to the 'what' and 'why' of this mission."
"The minor planet, traditionally, has been the lesser traveled colony world. Besides the fact that it's nearly thirty hours away by gate, it's been known as a stripped-mined warzone for the past twenty years. Corneria's been so enamored with the new resources of places like Kew, Kybha, and Hare for the past two decades we overlooked some of the more fundamental needs of colonization."
"Udeav was one of our first discoveries in colony space," Leinch's continued on, "And in continuing with the old federation tradition of jumping the gun, we just kept moving on to other worlds."
"Astropolitically, it's insignificant at the moment, but-"
The projection of the planet began to spin. On the separate projection, the PDA displayed some basic informatics on the planet's habitability. Metrics like estimated water levels, soil composition, and atmospheric conditions. James didn't understand most of it.
"-It's the only planet out there that can sustain Cornerian life without direct supply from Lylat. In fact, it has almost perfect habitability for Cornerian physiology and wildlife."
"This wasn't a problem decades ago, hell if things stay the way they are we can probably manage it. But unlike most of the colonies, Udaev Minor has actual utility as an out-of-the-box garden world. Even more potential once it's been fully terraformed, of course"
More images appeared. This time of surface farms and greenhouses. The first crop yields of many.
"Kew is too cold, the star's just all wrong. Kybha's gravity is just a little too light. Hare's habitable enough, but can't sustain any of our native plant life without destroying whole ecosystems with parasitic plant life."
"Meaning whoever controls the Udeav System, has the power to supply the colonies."
"Should the gates go down," Arjun clarified.
Is that… Possible? James pondered.
"Yes! Exactly," Leinchs responded positively to his assistant. "Udeav wasn't good enough when we discovered it through slip travel seventy years ago. Now? It's a viable backup. An insurance policy."
The next "slide" showed a historical photo from the first survey teams on the surface. Most of the scientists had to be dead by now, James thought.
"As far back as eighty years ago, our forefathers knew it had mostly the near exact right gravity, soil composition and sunlight for habitation."
"The only problem was-"
"-The atmosphere was thin; and large-scale Atmo-terraforming wasn't an option seventy years ago," Jana finished his sentence. She was reading through the file, but James intuited she'd been similarly tormented with the planet in the past.
"Correct," Leinchs confirmed, "But we knew Udeav was mineral-rich in ways Macbeth could only dream to be. And we all know how well Macbeth likes to share."
To his credit, James did know that. Part of the Lylat War's thirty-five year old peace deal was an independence clause for Macbeth. The ashy planet had independent governance in exchange for Union, then Federation, mandated industrial sharing. As well as being decades behind in social progress, they were also stingy with sharing resources.
"So, at the time, with little prospect to make it a habitable base of power out in the colonies, and no gate travel for the next forty years; our predecessors made a deal. Their hands were forced."
More news clips appeared in-hologram, this time showing an old video of a dog clad in a crimson uniform, adorned with a peaked cap and gold epaulets shaking hands with a younger Stag; possibly Armstrong Vikr, James thought. As gaudy as the display was, it was clear that the intent of production was to instill confidence in their alliance. Noticeably, every nameless red-coat in the accompanying cadre of officers was a canine of some variety. The staunch formation of uniforms was the reminder of a well-intentioned, though imperfect, pre-war era.
"We, then the Federation of Corneria, were just barely beginning to settle beyond Lylat. We didn't really consider the actions would echo through time. And with the Lylat Wars building up, we couldn't depend on Macbeth as a resource for the rarer alloys we needed to beat Venom in production."
The next slide displayed images from the Lylat wars that clearly churned Falco's stomach. the Sector Y fleet, almost half-destroyed and utterly combat ineffective. Then Old Corneria City, a graveyard of megaliths. The hits kept coming, James thought, recognizing some of the battlefields he'd studied religiously as a child.
The admiral's demeanor darkened/ "The devastation was such that we didn't know if we could rebuild."
"I-," he looked at Falco, "-We, barely made it out alive."
"Turns out it was only the warm up," Falco added, putting aside their differences with a terse nod.
"Udeav, and the other colonies were our way to keep up with expansion. To compete. We didn't care how we got it," Leinchs said, refocusing the conversation.
"Forty years ago we essentially gave it to Armstrong Vikr. All in exchange for minerals and alloys shipped back at cost. An evergreen deal. three-month journeys in slipspace."
Vikr's likeness appeared in dated press releases on the projections. James focused on a recent one, five years old. Vikr, a reindeer with a great set of horns, stood proudly at a shipyard dangling a pair of gigantic scissors. A groundbreaking ceremony for a complex they built on the moon of Usva; if James remembered correctly. The headline read: 'Armstrong Vikr: Conqueror of Udeav.'
"No expiry, no oversight. It's been his. With every godsdamned ship requisitioned by the federation in our most desperate hour, his fleet was the only option to make the long journey."
"Then, about twenty years ago, the gates came. Reducing what took months of time in purpose-built slipspace expeditionary vessels to little more than a day in a fighter craft. Sometimes hours."
"In no short order, the political expanse created by the gate systems changed the Central systems. For the better, I believe. But we remained nearsighted on Udeav."
"Yeah, yeah. So what's happening now?" James asked, rapt to get to the point. He wasn't a patient man, and the Admiral needed to get to the point or he was going to lose him.
"The way you're framing this, you're making it sound like Corneria is afraid of losing control of colony space, Admiral," James dug, more than a little haphazardly.
"Control?" Leinch replied with strange emphasis. "I'm afraid we're way past that point."
"Vikr's thugs do whatever they want. Their rates get higher for us every year, which we have no choice but to accept as the partnership soured a long time ago. It's probably more accurate to describe it as having devolved into a mutual distrust at this point."
"Doesn't seem too unjustified on their part," Falco muttered.
"What seems unjustified is the near-weekly massacres their corporate death squads are carrying out; or the fact that they are doing nothing to protect their planet from the pirate warlords on the take out in their space," Leinchs nearly yelled, more than a little insulted
"It's chaos out there. And, every fiscal quarter, every fuckin' CCA report, Vikr gets told the good while his goons shoot up work camps."
The throng was presented with images of burnt tent cities and the bloody aftermath of a riot broken up by one of Vikr's enforcement teams. Broken bodies, some in overalls, lay in piles on roadsides.
"We have people inside Vikr Infinite's investor circles. The man is simply misinformed on the situation on the ground and in the system. He's being led to believe that things are going much more smoothly than they are."
"So? You're the Godsdamned ISS! Tell him what's going on," James' accused.
"That's not what he wants," Falco cut in, fully unsettled to what was coming.
Leinchs inhaled; accepting that he couldn't say anything to bring Falco back into the fold. James knew it. Everyone knew it, it was the reality of the room.
"That brings us to why you're all here."
Jana shifted back into her study mode, Falco straightened out as well.
"You want your planet back," James anticipated, wryly. He laughed at the absurdity of the situation, genuine guffaws. Leinchs responded with a raised eyebrow at the fox. Like he was afraid to acknowledge the quiet part out loud.
James wasn't having any of it.
"You said it yourself; if you control Udeav, you control all colony space."
Leinch shook his head, rejecting the narrative.
"We want a permanent and peaceful resolution to the Udeav problem in accordance with the mandates of our agency directives," he responded. He stomped two times and winked as he said it.
His message was clear. They were about to do something sneaky; under the table. Jana chortled. Falco groaned.
"No, no, no," Falco barked, rejecting the premise of the assignment. "Nope, we're not cleaning up your mistakes, we're not some hit squad you can call to make your political problems go away."
"If you want it, take it back yourselves. What do you need us for?" Falco challenged. "How many carriers you got now? Fifteen? Twenty, between Corneria and Venom at full opposition?"
"We don't do that anymore Lombardi, we made the deal. Going back on it is a faux pas. What do you think happens when we take Udeav away from Vikr? Venom is watching. Those Godsforsaken creeps on Macbeth are paying attention. They still talk."
"Have you tried blackmail yet?" Falco asked bluntly. It was the closest he'd gotten yet to a strong reaction from Leinchs, who widened his eyes for a few moments before responding.
"We prefer the term 'political leverage' but if you insist-"
"-And I always do." Falco took control of the conversation.
"Hey man, no worries," Falco teased, crossing his arms. "I used to 'leverage' street corners growing up. So we're not too far off from the same idea here."
This elicited a brief laugh from Leinchs.
"See, this is why no one here likes you Lombardi, No sense of tact or discretion."
"Thank you," The falcon said not-so-humbly.
"Carriers and blackmail is how we got to the Lylat wars in the first place," Arjun added, only lifting his head from his PDA for a mere moment.
"You could argue much less brought us to the Lylat Wars," Leinchs added, appreciating his aide's wisdom.
"What about the technicalities of the deal?" Jana asked, flicking through the virtual display on the PDA lent by her former employer. "Surely the Federation added conditions that Vikr is violating? I don't normally like to resort to the finer details, but-"
"-They weren't as thorough as I would have been." The admiral cut-off, shaking his head. "The Fed made them agree to setting up a legal system, fully in-line. They are violating each and every statute daily. They sell to Macbeth and Venom. The violence. The death. Etcetera."
"It's out of our hands. Well into the gray areas beyond our control."
"Vikr won," he finished, his frustrated rant giving way to silence. Jana flicked through the notes, Falco eyeballed indifferently.
"Vikr won? So that's it?" James questioned, turning his head in curiosity. Leinchs sighed in recognition of how imperial his complaints sounded.
"Court cases that precede my career. Undefined rights to the planet. The Union of Lylat's rules don't apply to them, apparently."
"Because UL didn't make the deal, the Federation did," Jana interceded.
"RIght," The old terrier replied. "Codes, subsections and motherfucking subparagraphs aren't going to cut it anymore. They have the best lawyers in the galaxy and the Union has no stomach for a police action."
"We're damned if we do, damned if we don't," he lamented. "Court of public opinion wants Udeav settled, that much is fact."
"So, this is all Colonial politics then?" Falco smarmed, "Just a benevolent empire flexing its might?"
Leinchs, not appreciating the skepticism of his outsider guests, rolled his eyes before considering his reply.
"When is it ever not?" He said, playing along. "And not so much benevolent as we are concerned about the sudden break out of war."
"That's the angle then," Falco evaluated, the growing sarcasm in his tone not sitting well with his militarized cohort. "Hiring mercenaries famous for ending wars to prevent a war before it starts. Seems like bad faith to me."
"Lot's changing out there, Falco," Jana said, tilting her head to her mentor. "The colonies aren't quite as disorganized as they appear."
A new set of images appeared on the hologram display, illuminating the room with a striated starmap complete with multicolored system's of control in swaths of coded division. Colonial space, the broad axis of which was flashing yellow and red. Kew, Hare, Udeav, even Kybha. Pirates, privateers and warlords; mugshots suspended next to the identified flashpoints. James' noted the severity of colors became bolder the further from the gates he eyed.
"They talk. They network. They plan, even as they squabble over table scraps. There's a pulse to it," Jana continued. "You can feel it if you know where to place your finger."
"No one is happy with the Union out there, and they are one powderkeg event away from uniting themselves. And, if we do nothing, they'll fill the vacuum themselves."
The gaze in Jana's verdant eyes hardened. James noticed. Still addicted to revenge. Angry. All those kills. All these years later, it hadn't been enough.
"So what's our play? Cut the shit, Daryn. Who's the enemy? Where's the pressure points? What's the mission?"
"It's who." Leinch said, "You should be asking 'who' is our way in. We know things. What was the word you used? 'Pressure points,' within Vikr's ranks."
"Demitrius Jean-Starkly," he stated, as a professional headshot of a gray and white ferret materialized into the group's view. The ferret shrouded himself in the confident posture of a leader and wore a smirk indicating some degree of aloofness. Good lighting and a background of green vines, nice touch..
"Colonie Logistique?" Jana asked; seeking confirmation on the familiar sound of the family name.
Jean-Starkly, more of a dynasty than a family. Untouchable. James recalled.
Shamefully, James knew the name from popular culture rather than history. There had been several trashy exposés on the Starkly line, and James had a vague affinity for tabloidism. The man, his family and their retainers had their hands in everything. He'd seen funding for venues, parks and more funded with Jean-Starkly credits. Fifteen generations of wealth rarely bred individuals who didn't love flaunting it.
"Founding member, alongside Vikr. Later mutineed into a board member. There was some kerfuffle among the partners. Still; he's got an owning stake in CoLogistique as well as Vikr Infinite and L'Avant-Poste and all the others."
"The man's more of an institution than simply 'old-money'. He has his hands in the entirety of Colonial politics." he continued, "The Starkly family wealth is two currency value systems older than the present. Their banks still regularly find stashes of precious metals from three-hundred year-old bank runs measured in tonnes. The family has historically landed titles. Estates. Most in those counties along Corneria's equator. He's a provincial with an ancient and unlimited vat of power."
"So, like a King?" Falco asked, sputtering in disbelief. He was leaning forward now, an eyebrow raised.
"More like an Earl or Baron. He'd not be very high up. But, there aren't many who can still trace their lineage that far back in time," James explained, recalling the theoretical clout the man and his family line would have had. If the tabloids were to be believed.
Leinch's interceded. "None of that matters unless you want it to. The only thing that matters is his importance to the Colonies."
"Rich asshole; I get it," Falco retorted, passing James a disgusted look. He was clearly offended by the unearned regality afforded to an otherwise unremarkable animal.
"Let me guess, he has some disagreement with Armstrong Vikr you're looking to wedge your way into," Falco continued, more of an accusation than an observation.
The tenacious terrier seemingly paid the old bird's sardonic remarks no mind before he swiped his hand. The floating display transitioned to a new image.
James became transfixed.
A young woman; ferret, a dark gray mustela with flaxen eyes. The girl was adorned in a white sundress with a blue clamshell print and a very expensive looking sun hat. Her form was lean, athletic and regal. She appeared no older than twenty years, but her rehearsed pose indicated a maturity beyond youth. The subject reclined on a chaise mid-deck on what was presumably her benefactor's yacht. This was a personal photograph, recorded by someone looking to capture what James expected to be a happier moment in time.
Aquas. I think that's Isla Po in the background. Beautiful place, James recognized.
The same roguish smirk hung on her face as her father. James was smitten.
"His heir-apparent," Leinch's announced, the whites of his eyes reflecting the brightened colors in the image before them.
'Lady' Ariane Jean-Starkly, his only daughter and future title as Duchess. She'd been missing for eight years, until now."
"And whether he knows it or not, he's been burning Udeav to the ground to find her. Now we've finally got a lead."
"Duchess. With a title like Demitrius probably could have hired us himself," Falco mocked. It seemed like he'd intended the barb to get a chuckle out of one of the McCloud twins, but James was too busy admiring Jean-Starky's legs to notice. Jana, by contrast, seemed wholly uninterested in the commentary.
Jana broke the cajoling with a simple question.
"What happened?"
"She ran off with the wrong crowd," he said, no doubt simplifying the situation..
"Ketumati?" Jana enquired. The word meant nothing to James, but it bounced around his mind a few times until he found a rhythm for it.
Leinchs tapped his wrist; sending a brief over to each PDA in the room. James opened the file with a tap on the glass and was greeted with a mix of images, figures and text. Each and every page of it was classified with the codename 'Tempest Elegy' in an orange font.
"Good guess."
"It wasn't." Jana replied curtly, eyes fixed to her own glass.
"They started calling themselves 'Ketumati' about ten years ago; local dialect," Leinch's descriptive voice marched on. "No definite article before the name. No direct translation for the word either. They're a quasi-communistic, ultra-anarchist mashup. Before the name change, they date to about twenty-years ago during the numerous uprisings out in colony space."
Falco exhaled audibly. James noticed It was loud enough for the Admiral to pause for a second. Lots of bad memories for us all, James knew.
"Their core beliefs are simple; the liberation of Udaev from Vikr and all other corporate control."
"And by the Gods they've been effective."
"They are elusive. Decentralized. Blending into each community they cross. They don't stay in one place for long, and they generally weave through every checkpoint Vikr's tried to set up. Despite Vikr's best efforts, they can't be squashed."
Because it's their home. James thought with more than a little skepticism for military intelligence. He thought it best to keep these comments to himself.
"How many core fighters?" Jana asked.
"Hard to say, Medium-confidence they're about one-thousand or less. With families, probably less than five-thousand spread all over the system."
"Don't be dissuaded. They are few in number, but they have extremely long reach, and they punch far above their weight class."
Leinchs displayed an image of a pro-Ketumati food drive held a few years ago hosted in Sargasso; the opposite near 'end' of colonial space.
"They have allies in almost every part of Colonial society, if you can call it that. They are seen as the cause célèbre in the region of space."
"Jean-Starkly left willingly?" Jana asked, "Spoiled inheritess cosplaying as a revolutionary?"
"Just waltzed out of the family's Katinian estate one night. Walked right past the help; no witnesses and no note. Took about four-hundred thousand credits with her and bought a retired freighter that's still unaccounted for."
James, who was already well-aware of his personal motivations for finding the girl, chose to see the best in the situation.
"A true believer," James opined.
"Hopeless lunatic," Jana corrected, shaking her head. James stopped smiling as soon as he looked over. She likely knew where his thoughts were going.
My fraternal voice of reason, James mused. He hadn't lost control of his senses yet.
"So this is prioritized because she's royalty?" Falco asked.
"Like I said," Leinch responded. "Only if you care about that sort of thing."
"It clearly matters to some people," Jana said. "People who have deep pockets and friends in the right places."
Her professional posture devolved into a cocky lean. James knew his twin was getting at something; she always read the fine print. She tilted her head.
"Like Demitrius," Jana stated, tone awash with brusque accusation. "An old colleague of yours, if I recall correctly."
"Here's my first guess of the night. He came directly to you, didn't he?"
James appreciated that she was practically looking for any reason to reject this job; no matter the finances involved, she would never risk her family's lives for mere nepotism. Admiral Leinch's face contorted in discomfort, pondering the best way to soften the reality that his once-protege had revealed.
"It's partly true, I confess. He and I go back. But this isn't just a favor for an old friend; we need Demitrius divested from the Colonies. He knows we need it to move in, too. Eight years ago, he agreed to sell his stake in Vikr's folly. When Ariane slipped away, he scrapped the offer. He saw himself having more stake in the planet after that."
"You hada buyer ready?"
"We have a buyer. Cultivated him for years," Leinchs defended, "And he's willing to play ball. No corpo slush funds, no black credits, all legit."
"Surprised you're not funding this yourself," James blurted.
"Vikr would never allow it. I think the Union would replace me if I asked the General Assembly for it."
"Politics. Let's keep our scope smaller here," Falco interrupted, "When and where was she last seen?"
"A week ago, and she's not hiding anymore. Just impossible to pin down," Leinchs said. "That's the problem. She's the Ketumati movement's most entrenched member now. Helps run things in Settler City. She's practically holding herself hostage."
"This is still recovery one, then?" Jana asked, again not a care-in-the-galaxy for anything other than the facts.
James raised a finger. "What's 'one'?" he asked. No one answered.
"It's way more complicated than that," The Admiral trudged on. "This isn't hostage rescue, it'll require a delicate touch. And, it's why none of this leaves this room."
"No, wait a second. What's recovery two, then?" James protested, his curiosity not yet satisfied.
"Remains," Jana said casually, briefly glancing back at her brother.
The admiral tsk-tsked while shaking his head.
"She won't go willingly."
"Thanks, Daryn. I wasn't planning to give her the option," Jana scoffed, sarcastically.
"'Rescue' will look like 'captivity' here. That's going to cause problems," he warned.
"You know me," Jana stated, matter-of-factly, "There won't be any problems."
Falco was fuming. James could hear the avian's disappointment manifest in his restless leg taps against the linoleum flooring. The taps were rapid when they first sat, now they were practically whirlwind; the telltale signs of a Falco meltdown. At what, James didn't know.
"So that's it?" Jana asked, underwhelmed with the task at hand, "You called us in for a rescue?"
Daryn was in no rush to address his guests' concerns. Instead, he fingered the latch on the cooler and lifted the creaking plastic cover open. He removed the first green-tinged bottle, inspected it, and slammed the aluminum cap off the lip on the table's edge.
"There's something else," Falco inferred, his silent rage palpable.
"Sorry," the bird said; a mock apology, hands outstretched. "He's begging for something else."
"You don't know me as well as you think, Falco," Leinch's said, "We always want more. But, this time, it's not just what I want."
"I've got two more things for you. And this time it's paying back the debt I owe each of you."
James' ears perked, he sensed something strange in the officer's tone. Jana did too, but there was something more in her reaction. A much more personal reaction.
"You'll have a competitor out there."
"Who is it?" James heard his sister ask. He glimpsed across the table at her, Jana raised her head, her fact-finding facade now over.
"Who is it?" She repeated.
"KEI Security,"
"It isn't pleasant Jay-Em, I'm sorry. But I promised. It's time."
Jana's professional demeanor was shaken from the moment the words landed. She lowered the PDA, laying it flat onto the table. Jana closed her eyes and inhaled, seemingly shutting down for a couple seconds. It was like she was trying to find her center; retreating to a happier place.
James had never seen anything like that. In Twenty-six years, he held not a single memory of Jana being compromised like that. This was new, a core memory being developed in real time.
Her eyes opened. They were hardened again. They reflected no humor, no boredom, no skepticism. All business; and this time, it was purely her own.
"When?" She asked, with an untethered venom barely contained.
"Armstrong signed them last month. Though select members have been on retainer for years," he said, treading carefully.
"How many?"
Falco's brow furled, his feet dropped off the chair and he leaned forward. His look toward Jana was almost mournful. If he was closer, he might have held her shoulder.
"All of them."
"Anders Ljón included."
James could see her sister's right hand tighten under the table. Her jaw clenched. She tried to hide it by turning her head for a second.
"Direct hire or agency subcontract?"
She asked the question with a tone that reflected that she didn't give a shit about the answer; it was just a formality.
"Jana," Falco comforted softly, only to be cut off by the admiral. James had no idea what he'd intended to say, if he intended to say anything at all.
"Direct hire," Daryn answered gently, "We had nothing to do with them."
Jana was quiet for longer than anyone was comfortable with. Her eyes were a little redder when the opened again. She forced herself back to task, there was time to feel later.
"What are we competing for?"
"Ariane Jean-Starkly returned alive and unharmed," he reminded.
"The other target is something special, but I know you can manage."
"She calls herself Zeouna of Settler City," he started. His voice carried rougher than before. "We believe, based on word-of-mouth, that she's the leader of the various Ketumati cells."
"This isn't an unrelated contract. We have insider knowledge that any move on Ariane will lead you to her. They're inseparable, apparently."
"This is all making so much more sense now," James said, taking over the lead role as detective. Jana was still too bereaved by the last news she'd received to comment.
"No history. No paper trail. No family. No E-net history. All that's pretty common out there, but we didn't even have a sighting until last month. This is the best we got."
An image of a unique looking vulpes hybrid caught in the snow enmeshed itself on the display. From the little of her that could be seen, charcoal gray fur with white accents. She had mostly vulpes-like features around her face and snout, but had long, sharp ears trying to poke their way through the hood on her poncho. She'd have looked elegant if not for the half open eyes and the shotgun barrels poking through the fabric.
Falco grunted. "Sounds like you're slipping."
"She doesn't meet outsiders face-to-face. She doesn't take a piss without an escape plan. We can't get agents embedded that deeply with the Ketumati; it's too deep cover and everyone knows each other," Leinchs said with frustration, "And they don't exactly surround themselves with compromisable comms. It's all word of mouth."
Leichs stopped, waiting for questions.
"It's not much to go on, but I need her alive. Although, I understand you may want her dead when we're done tonight."
James straightened out. Things were getting serious. What does he mean by that?
"Vikr himself is paying two-hundred million just for her corpse."
"And to keep her alive so she can actually face justice. I'll match Vikr's pay. Another two on top of Vikr's two. I have it on record that they'll pay it even if she's relinquished to our custody."
The absurd figure failed to stir Jana's energy much, though she did glance back at Falco. She was expecting something in the area of fifty million; and this was all before her famous negotiation style.
"Too high," Falco said. "There's something wrong here. What'd she do to piss you off?"
"Loose ends and unfinished business."
Leinch's hesitated a moment.
"And, I didn't mean just for me."
Each of the Star Fox three perked up differently. James corrected his slouch, tilting his head in curiosity. Jana studied Falco for guidance; there was none, he shrugged with a similar confusion.
"I'm sorry I didn't deliver the news earlier, we only theorized earlier this week and I needed to make sure I had the facts correct."
"We believe she was involved with the disappearance of your father. At least present for it."
"Our father died eighteen years ago," Jana declared, clarifying the obvious.
"Yes, I'm sorry, I believe he did too. The ISS declared as much based on circumstance. I only meant that she was there."
"I would never waste your time with something this personal," He said softly, speaking to a friend this time. "I would never say such a thing unless I believed it was worth looking at. You know that, Jay-Em."
"I'm doing the best with what little I have. But she was there."
"She knows."
The words sucked the air out of the conversation. The resulting silence overwrote what should have been the most important questions.
How? How did she know?
James stood agape, his stomach full of butterflies. His arms felt numb.
Whatever had been discussed prior had lost its meaning and for a moment, he was nothing more than that devastated little boy who had watched the end of the driveway on that cold autumn evening.
Alone. The wrong car had pulled up. The engine had run longer than usual. He remembered. Two figures exited instead of three, walking slower the closer they got to the house. There wasn't a fox-tail swinging on any of them. That's when he'd first known.
James lifted out of his seat and advanced to the hologram. None dared stop or interrupt him. He studied the image of his adversary. He took in every fine detail on her face. He found himself starving for more, wordlessly contemplating the power to act he possessed. If he could have climbed over the table he would have.
He didn't know what he wanted. Revenge? Pointless. Justice? Insufficient.
James glowered at Jana, who did not echo his obsessive zeal, before harshly asking the only question he had left. A hateful reflex.
"Where is she?"