Wake

Peppy pulled the overcoat tighter around himself to keep the cold out. An autumn storm was approaching, an early warning of the winter that was to come. Heavy grey clouds sailed past overhead, threatening to drench the congregation. The wind shook the trees and robbed them of their leaves, blowing them around and leaving them in yellow and red droves up against the all too long lines of gravestones.

Too many lives had been lost in armed conflicts-the Lylat Wars, the Aparoid Invasion, the Anglar Blitz-and here lay the fallen soldiers, the ones who had fought for freedom, the poor pawns in the interplanetary war games. Here they rested, on Corneria Memorial Cemetery. Most plaques had names inscribed, but many did not, the remains of poor souls too mangled to be identified. He glanced to his left. The hillside overlooked what the dead had fought and sacrificed themselves for; Corneria City. The pinnacle of Lylat civilization looked as majestic, if not more, even with storm clouds whirling around the skyscrapers.

He turned back to the scene in front of him, where three small holes had been dug in front of plain headstones. A small gathering of people stood by the graves, with a larger circle of media surrounding them all. He looked at Fox and Krystal, both dressed in black. Fox's focus was undoubtedly on his wife, who stood there with a stoic expression but a blank look in her eyes. Peppy's heart sank. He understood how hard this was for her.

Still, he was here on an official assignment, so he could not allow himself to be sentimental, at least not yet. He adjusted his cap and let go of his overcoat, which was not done up the front, so that his crimson uniform was clearly visible. In his position as Head of State and Joint Commander of the CDF and Cornerian Army, General Peppy O'Hare stepped up on a podium, and faced the congregation as well as the microphones and cameras.

"Today, we are gathered here to remember the unexpected heroes," he started. All eyes were on him, and he hated it, much rather working on strategies or mentoring officers, performing his duties in silence. But out of necessity, he had quickly learnt to put such feelings at bay while in the public eye.

"When the Protectors of Cerinia arrived here last year, no one could have imagined that their promises and offers of trade would come as such a steep price." Though that didn't stop the public and media from putting the blame on the Cornerian Defence Forces and ultimately himself, even those who at first had embraced the Cerinians and had benefited-and still did-from the technology and knowledge the visitors had provided. That's why today's ceremony was as much a political statement as anything else.

"With temptation and their telepathic powers..." He paused, to emphasise the strength of their enemy, the one thing he could put the blame on. "...they deceived us all." That was true. They had convinced political, business and military leaders alike of their cause, Corneria willingly handing over the resources the Cerinians needed, while literally tearing up the planet in the process. With remorse he remembered how Kamuy, the Cerinian leader, had wrapped him around her finger.

"Fortunately, the military casualties were minimal and the civilian ones none, because even amongst our worst enemies, we will always have friends. A faction rose against their treacherous leader, fighting for justice, and fighting for us." He stared sternly into the nearest camera. It was imperative to him, and for Krystal's sake, to drive home the message that not all Cerinians had been bad. The improved relations with Venom since the Anglar Blitz had also shown that the same was true for Corneria's old enemy. "Today we will bury the ashes of three such friends, who not only helped defeat Kamuy, but also saved the lives of Fox and Krystal McCloud. Sadly, they paid the ultimate price for their heroics. Even though we don't know their names, we shall always remember them."

A black and brown shepherd dog-the archbishop of the secular Cornerian Uniting Church-stepped up to one of the graves, placed a small urn in the hole, and finished by scattering some soil over it using a small spade. Fox repeated the process by the second grave, and finally it was Krystal's turn, gingerly holding the urn in her gloved hands. A tear rolled down her cheek, and Peppy had to fight hard not to cry as well, when he thought about the irony of it all. Krystal had always believed that she was the sole survivor from Cerinia, but when she learnt that she was not, she had returned to Lylat to fight for Corneria's cause. After coming so close to her fellow people, she had still been denied the answers she craved: who she was and what had happened to her planet. Heck, the Cerinians had not even revealed where their home had been.

"Our hopes and prayers also go out to the leader of the insurrection, Kayuq, who took great interest in Lylat culture and shared our values," the hare continued. He remembered the old red-furred vixen clearly, even though he had only met her a couple of times. She had come across as humble and open-minded, and he recalled when Kayuq and the archbishop literally had to be dragged away from an enthusiastic conversation they were having. And yet, Kayuq obviously had a very cunning and calculating side to her, being able to stage a coup amongst mind readers. "Her fate is unknown. Wounded but still defending Fox and Krystal, she was last seen on the Cerinian starship just before it fled."

He handed over the lead to the archbishop, who finished the ceremony by reading various texts from ancient Cornerian books, purposefully selected to represent a variety of beliefs. Meanwhile, the graves were slowly filled in with soil.

When the burial was finished, Peppy walked up to the McClouds, first shaking Fox's hand, and then Krystal's, who carefully took Peppy's hand in hers. He couldn't help shivering slightly, as he felt the cold and hard prosthetics through her gloves.

"Thank you General. This means so much to me." She might have used his formal title, but her tone was that of a close friend. Peppy was immensely proud of the fact that she had called him the closest thing she had to a father. She smiled at him in gratitude-a genuine smile with both mouth and eyes-and he was in awe of the strength she still showed, after all that she had been through.

"It was the least we could do," he answered and turned to Fox. "I assume there is somewhere you want to go?"

"Yes," Fox replied solemnly. "Yes, there is."

"I'll come with you," said Peppy. The two men flanked the vixen as they approached the line of journalists, answering some questions politely but briefly.

"Have you forgiven Krystal for betraying you and joining Star Wolf?" someone asked. It still stumped Peppy that some people still called her a traitor, because of what had gone down during the Anglar Blitz a few years ago.

Fox had become quite blasé about it though, so many times had he heard the question. "Nah, we just married anyway," he replied with a smug grin and put an arm around his wife.

"Was this ceremony the best idea, considering the resentment against Cerinians?"

The question was directed at Peppy. He glanced over the journalist's shoulder towards the entrance to the cemetery, where there was a small gathering of people holding placards and shouting something, that luckily was inaudible because of the distance. However, he had received intel that there had been a scuffle between an anti-Cerinian mob and Krystal supporters before the ceremony. "I believe that Krystal and Kayuq proved beyond doubt, that the crisis was caused by a disillusioned maniac, and had nothing to do with species or origin."

"Sir?" a CDF officer approached them, and General O'Hare gave her a subtle nod. In turn, the bull terrier gestured to the members in her unit, who quickly stepped in-between the journalists and the trio, signalling that question time was over.

They walked along a gravel path up towards the top of the cemetery. Peppy looked sideways at Krystal with her azure fur, petite muzzle and turquoise eyes. The wind played with her cerulean blue hair. Her resemblance to Kamuy was striking, apart from Kamuy having longer hair and being twenty perhaps twenty-five years older, and Peppy couldn't help but wonder if they were somehow related. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had been smitten by the Cerinian leader, which of course had played right in her hand. He knew that because of that, it was in no small part his fault that Corneria nearly had been overrun, and he had Fox and Krystal to thank for putting an end to Kamuy's evil plans.

They reached a strange structure, curved lines of hexagonal black granite columns with varying height, resembling the basalt canyon in the mountains not far from Corneria City. Names were inscribed on each column, names of soldiers who had never returned. In revere of the heroes, they walked along the path, until they reached a larger column made from white granite. Illuminated by bright lights, it shone like a beacon, a ray of hope under the grey skies. Two names were inscribed on it, side by side.

James Fox McCloud - Vixy Rose Reinard

Fox gazed at the monument over his parents-and Peppy's closest friends-a few silent tears rolling down his cheeks. It was still gut-wrenching for Peppy to think about the day when they walked into Andross's trap on Venom, how Peppy had managed to escape and limp home in his broken Arwing, only to have to tell young Fox what had happened.

But something was different this time. Krystal put a hand on Fox's cheek, carefully wiping a tear away as their eyes met. They did not say a word as they embraced, but they seemed to have a silent understanding, a secret bond, because a small smile formed on Fox's muzzle.

"They would have been very proud of you," said Peppy.

"I just wish I could have met them," said Krystal.

"They would have loved you, I'm sure of it." Fox placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

As discreetly as he could, Peppy checked his communicator. "I'm sorry, but duty calls."

"Thank you again for arranging this." Krystal gave Peppy a tight hug.

Fox shook Peppy's hand and also pulled the hare in for a backslap. "We might stay for a little while."

Peppy took his leave and walked back down the row of columns. Two soldiers from his security detail waited at the monument's entrance, and next to them stood a tall poodle in a charcoal wool overcoat. The canine wore dark sunglasses for some inexplicable reason, since his long, curly and jet black hair made him easy to recognise, at least for those who knew him. The poodle walked beside Peppy as they continued down the path.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Peppy, careful not to use Jackson Peter's name, since they were out in public. The chill hit Peppy again, both because of the wind and his company. He pulled his coat tighter around himself.

"I wanted to pay my respects." At least the dog sounded respectful. "I am not completely heartless, you know."

Perhaps not, thought Peppy, but he doubted it was compassion and diplomacy that had made Jackson a high ranking agent in SIRIUS-Strategic Innovation, Research, Intelligence and Utility Section-a top secret organisation in the shadows, performing all sorts of undercover operations and wet works that must not be tied to the CDF.

"Also, I need a word," Jackson continued.

Peppy returned the salute from a CDF guard, who held open the rear door of a waiting limousine. Jackson followed Peppy into the vehicle, which promptly took off. The ride was completely smooth as the vehicle hovered down the road, only a faint whoosh from the thrusters protruding into the passenger compartment.

"Still, I wonder if the ceremony was such a good idea." Jackson removed his shades and put them in a pocket in his coat. There was a friendly smile on his muzzle, but neither his brown eyes nor his poker face gave any emotions away. "Did Krystal question why it took so long for the funeral to be held?"

"If so, she didn't say anything." Peppy removed his hat and fidgeted with it, as was his unconscious habit when he was uncomfortable with something. As much as he hated it, he understood that it had been important to study the Cerinians' bodies, and if possible find a countermeasure for their psionic powers. The Cerinian starship was still out there somewhere, presumably under the command of Kamuy's ambitious protégé Eldey. They could come back any day to finish what they had started, perhaps with new allies. "Did you find the source?"

"There seems to be nothing physical, no extra organ." Jackson's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid that however their telepathic powers work, it is still beyond our comprehension. We should have more luck with their battle-staffs, although the technology has proven very hard to replicate."

Peppy felt queasy. He was certain that the autopsies had been very thorough. "I assume the research program will be wrapped up now."

"Actually, it needs to continue for at least another year. There is still much to learn."

Jackson's reply made Peppy suspicious. "Please don't tell me we just buried three empty urns."

"Do you need to know?"

"No, I don't." He would have preferred not to know anything at all, but SIRIUS had insisted on the research facility being located away from Corneria to minimise the risk of Krystal finding anything out. Therefore, Peppy had to get involved to handle the diplomacy and approve the budget. "I'll allocate the additional funding."

"Excellent! Just one more thing," said Jackson in his usual matter-of-fact manner. "It might also be wise to avoid contact with Krystal, just in case she in fact has not lost her powers."

A terrible thought struck Peppy. He realised that he never saw the Cerinians' bodies himself. He didn't know where the top secret research facility was, only that it was far away from Corneria. What if that was to minimise the risk of Krystal contacting Cerinian research subjects which in fact might be... alive? What if Fox and Krystal found out? Who knew what hell Lylat's best mercenary and a telepath could unleash on Corneria. Spirits help him if that ever happens.

A noise woke her from the trace, a clank followed by the grinding of metal.

Her last thoughts to herself were the first things that popped back into her mind. Be careful. They will seek you. She remained calmed, forced herself not to regain consciousness too quickly, and tried to feel if her mind was being touched. There was nothing, so she opened herself up just a little bit, at first just taking in the nearest surroundings. There was someone close by, and getting closer, but the thought patterns were foreign. It was not one of them. Then she reached out further, but the beings she could sense were of the same species as the one was approaching her. Further afield there was a whole lot of nothing, so she guessed she was still on the spaceship, and the humming of reactors supported that assumption.

If it wasn't for the noise, she might not have woken up at all. She had put herself in deep trances like this before, but on very few occasions, and only after arranging for someone to wake her up just in case. But it had been a necessary risk to take, as she had been surrounded by mind readers. She had waited many months for the perfect opportunity to present itself, and her patience had paid off. Her captors had underestimated her, as many others had, because of her age. Instead of speed and strength, she had to rely on her cunningness and psionic powers, which were greater than those of most. She began feeling confident that she'd given them the slip.

Hinges creaked as a door was opened.

She stopped suppressing her mind and let the memories flow back. Their starship had arrived at a planetoid in the backwaters of the galaxy, a place that turned out to be a marketplaces for different species from many surrounding systems. In desperate need of fuel and other supplies, they looked to trade, but had little of value to offer in return. However, since they had a ship full of more or less gifted telepaths, they could trick whomever they negotiated with. She had tried to persuade her leader that her own particularly strong psionic powers would be of great value, and the leader had reluctantly agreed.

After some scouting, they had found a group of avians, who seemed to have minds that were particularly easy to manipulate. The trade had gone well, at least to start with. Her own leader did the talking, offering a large quantity of an exotic superconductor in exchange for fuel and food. Two telepaths had been tasked with invading the mind of the avian inspectors, using illusions to make them misread their instruments, incorrectly concluding that the material was the real deal. Her own job had been to monitor the other avians for any sign of suspicion, which she had done, but she had also scanned nearby ships for friendly minds.

It went smoothly, the supplies were loaded onto their starship, and they had nearly pulled off the heist when disaster struck. The avian captain arrived at the scene with an android, which performed another scan, revealing that the currency was not the invaluable element, but just scrap metal from the starship. The spell was broken, and she barely had time to warn her peers before a firefight broke out. The furious avians attacked with blasters, but the shots were easily deflected using the shields from their own battle-staffs. They all quickly retreated to their starship, which was ready to depart, everyone except herself. While the telepaths were distracted by the battle, she made a run for another ship nearby. Using a simple illusion trick on the crew-jumping into their minds, seeing what they saw, and altering what they focussed on-they didn't notice her. She made it to the ship's cargo hold and crawled into what she guessed was a shipping container.

The footsteps came closer. Someone was inside the container. Did they know she was here? The person hummed in a rumbling voice, a cheerful tune in a foreign tongue. She recognised a couple of words. It was the language of the bears from Arctos, one of the species they had studied briefly on the planetoid. There was a tapping noise, fingers on a touchpad perhaps, so she assumed she wasn't detected yet. To keep it that way, she tried to make herself smaller, but her tail knocked something over when she curled it around her.

There was a sharp inhale and the tapping stopped. Careful footsteps came even closer. "Vad i hela...?"

They had seen her. She jumped into the person's mind.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" said the bear, sounding more surprised than alarmed. While she didn't understand all the words, the bear's thoughts conveyed their meaning. "Hang on, you're one of those thieving foxes we saw, aren't you?"

She turned her head towards the bear. It was too late for illusions now. But while she couldn't control minds and mess with free will using her telepathy, she could plant ideas, give suggestions. What if she escaped?

"Did you run from them?"

She nodded and tried to stand up, but her legs were too stiff from sitting absolutely still ages. She had no idea how much time had passed. The bear offered her a hand and she fumbled after it for a moment, until he grasped hers and gently pulled her up. Her stomach grumbled. How long had she been in the trace for; hours, days?

"Hungry?"

"Ja, lite," she answered using one of the few words in Arctos she knew.

"Let's get you something to eat." The bear led her out of the shipping container. "Actually, I'm a bit peckish too."

The freezing cold in the cargo hold made her shiver. Her robes were not made for such a temperature.

"You poor thing," said the bear. A heavy jacket was put around her shoulders, impregnated with the bear's heavy scent along with residual heat. "There you go."

They walked along at a steady pace, through the cargo hold and into the heart of the enormous ship. The sound of the bear's heavy boots on the metal floor echoed off the walls of a wide corridor, followed by the light footfalls from her sandal-clad feet. Carefully, she prodded her good samaritan's mind for animosity, but there was none. Rumour had it that his species were gentle giants, at least when not threatened, and so far it seemed true. That was the reason she had picked this ship after all.

Merry voices drifted towards them from up ahead along with the scent of food. They stopped and waited for a sliding door to open, grinding slowly on its rails. A delightful aroma filled her nose. They must have arrived at the ship's kitchen. They stepped into the galley and the talking stopped abruptly. She carefully jumped from mind to mind, reading their emotions; vigilance and aversion. Using their thoughts, she saw herself, a skinny old vixen, with fading orange fur and hair streaked with silver. Her worn robes were stained by soot and grease from crawling through the container. She also saw the person who had found her, a black bear who was stocky but shorter than the others and seemed young.

"Look at her clothes," said a tall polar bear. "She's one of those dishonest Cerinians."

"It's okay," said her good samaritan. "She was held prisoner by them."

She turned towards the polar bear, who gasped. "Did they do that to you?"

She nodded. The bear growled displeased, but the suspicion in their mind was replaced with sympathy. The young black bear led her to a table, and she sat down on a bench seat, covered with a soft cushion. She touched the table, feeling the grain. It was a pleasant surprise with real timber on a sterile space ship made from metal.

The black bear returned. "Here, have some soup."

She put her paws around the ceramic bowl that had been put in front of her, cherishing the warmth. The taste did not disappoint, as she took a spoonful of the hearty broth.

"So," said the black bear and slurped on his own portion. "Where are you gonna go?"

"Lylat"

"Never heard of it I'm afraid." The bear scratched its neck.

"We're heading home to Arctos, so you can come with us there," said the polar bear. "We trade with several other systems, so I'm sure someone will know where it is."

"Tack!" She smiled with honest gratitude.

"Oh, I completely forgot, my name is Håkan," said the black bear and chuckled. "What's yours?"

"Kayuq"

Author's Note: I confess, I have a habit of growing attached to my OCs, so I have to reuse them. Thanks to Thespacedoge for beta-reading chapter.