Chapter 2: Boundless Skies

Rosette-class LTL Passenger Staship "Panaesha"

After docking their Arwings in the spaceliner's hangar bay, the pilots managed to get Wolf into the elevator pod, which was now swiftly carrying them to the heart of the passenger's ship. It wasn't without trial and error: His bare feet were so accustomed to the jagged rock of Venom's surface that exposure to the smooth floor of the pod floor caused him to stumble like someone walking on snow for the first time. The bright, artificial lights on the ceiling, a far cry from the dimly-lit caves, meant he was rubbing and adjusting his eyes constantly.

But more importantly, Wolf began to take notice of how strange the pilots were suddenly acting. As the pod carried them through a maze of winding shafts to the ship's main deck, none of them would speak to him. Outside of a reassuring smile on occasion, their air and behavior around was nothing like it was upon first meeting him. They kept eying Wolf with newfound grimaces, appearing unsure and even cautious. At several points Pigma opens his mouth in an attempt to say something to Wolf, but Peppy kept shutting him up with a glare, or hastily talking over to him. Every once in a while, the pilots would exchange rapid whispers with each other, attempting to bicker out of Wolf's earshot….but he caught James' deep voice several times, clashing against the other two:
"Don't say anything until we've got a confirmation—"
"Exactly. We don't even know if it's really him—"
"He has to be. He's the spitting image, he's the right age...who else could he be—?"

Wolf pretended to stare off into the wall ahead—not so much out of politeness, but out a growing, fearful sensation that had taken root in the pit of his stomach, his mind racing with the possibility that they had discovered something wrong with him. Something that meant leaving him back on the planet below them.

He remained silent, too terrified to pursue confirmation by asking them. Freedom from that dark, empty place was something he'd only known for a few minutes…he wasn't about to risk losing that for anything.

The voices behind him crackled, and he turned to see Peppy, seeming to have gained the upper hand in whatever he was arguing about with the others, shushed them hastily before turning to him.

"Hey, uh, Wolf…bud…" He softened his expression, adopting the same light voice that Wolf was quickly identifying as the one they seemed to exclusively reserve for him. "We're gonna arrive on the Main Deck soon. It's a big place, and a lotta people'll there, but you don't have to be afraid, okay? Nothin' will happen as long as you stick with us. But I need you to do something real important for me when we get there. If someone comes up and starts talkin' to you, or asks you any questions, don't say anything—just let us do the talkin' for you, y'hear me? And whatever you do, don't say nothin' about being from Venom." He glanced at the sealed elevator door nervously before continuing. "That's super-important, okay?"

Wolf looked at him puzzledly. "Why? Is that a bad thing?"

Clicking his tongue behind his large front teeth in an uncomfortable grimace, the Rabbit paused as he tried to put it in a way that the boy could understand.

"It's, ah…somethin' real messy and complicated, bud. Folks around the galaxy don't really take kindly to Venom, or anyone associated with it. Lotta bad history that gets under a lotta skin."

"Pfft. That's putting it mildly," Pigma grunted.

Peppy shot him a glare, before fixating on Wolf. "Not a peep about where you're from. To anyone, y'hear?"

Before Wolf could respond, the elevator doors open flew open, searing his eyes with more of those panel lights that he hated and prompting his hand to fly over them. When he could finally see, they couldn't have widened any larger.

What was simply the Panaesha's Main Deck for the average person looked and felt like another world for Wolf. Bright, sleek, clean and compact—everything about the room was the complete contrast to the caves of Venom, a vast circular room seated beneath massive curved arches, in the vein of an elegant central plaza. The white walls, made all the more luminescent by the glare of the ceiling light panels, made the room feel like the internal chassis of some massive computer, in which everyone scuttled about. The galaxy map on the hulking display screen at the center of the room, blinked sporadically with dozens of planets and nebulas. Bright holo-ads adorned the walls, flashing garish colors and advertising all manner of interstellar destinations. The black tile floor was glossy as marble and had glowing tiles that sprang to life upon being walked on, but was barely visible under the dizzying number of feet. The deck was positively brimming with canine crewmen working diligently like ants. They were all clad smartly in variations of the same, crisp blue-and-white naval uniforms, each with glittering silver and gold stripes on their collars indicating some form of rank. Men in stiff officer uniforms barked orders at sweating engineers that bolted in and out of the deck doors, each guarded by security personnel that scowled beneath glass-visor helmets and plated body armor. All of them, regardless of rank or task, sported the same insignia somewhere on their uniform: a blue grid-sphere planet emblem adorned with three red stars, rising above a split olive branch and a large blue "C" circling its rim it like a planetary ring.

Other elevator pods like the one Wolf and the others entered through were sliding open on every side of the deck, Lylatian travelers pouring out and dragging personal cargo after them. They were all being greeted by cheerful dogs and rabbits in white uniforms, who upon being swarmed by new passengers would bob their heads helpfully and start sheparding them down hallways to other parts of the ship. Other passengers sat in lines of seats behind them, tapping their feet impatiently or consulting blocky brochure datapads in their laps.

Overhead, a cool female voice echoed throughout the glossy deck:

"Attention, travelers. Please consult an attendant on Deck 13 to determine your starport. In accordance to Lylatian Travel Protocol, passengers with business in Demiosian and Katinese territories are required to have PS-8007 Clearance Codes. Exceptions will not be made for residents of those planets. We are currently experiencing delays and will remain in the Venomian Atmosphere until refueling is complete. Estimated time of departure is: 2 Hours and 43 Minutes. The Lylatian Travel Line appreciates your patience."

A loud groan shot up from the seated passengers. Then they went back to disgruntledly swiping their tablets.

James and the others just strolled in, paying no mind to their surroundings. Wolf didn't know how they could walk so casually past so many amazing things. He strained his neck to marvel at the dozens of species walking past—tall and short, fat and thin, sporting any number of fur or feather-styles. But what also fascinated him were the commonplace things, the kind of ordinary decal and tech of space travel that would never look the least bit out of place to the average Lylatian. But for Wolf, even the smallest thing was something to marvel at: the brass railing on each deck, the bright numbers on every display screen, the eye-popping colors on everyone's uniforms, the soft-looking leather seats lining the area, and the high-pitched lull of distant engines.

Peppy watched him out of the corner of his eyes, and couldn't help but smile as Wolf displayed the kind of curiosity and wonder only a child was capable of. It was like clockwork; something would catch Wolf's eye, causing his tall ears to prick up attentively, then he'd notice something else, sending his ears pricking up again.

"This ship is huge! D'you guys have one of your own?" He asked breathlessly.

Pigma glanced around them. "Like this one? No, but I'd certainly like one. James has been talking about raising some dosh for a mothership for years, but nothing's come of it so far..." His voiced slipped into an indiscernible grumble. "...Probably because the CDF doesn't pay us for piss. They barely pay us to keep the Arwings in decent shape, and they're already knockin' on ten years without the full-scale repairs they need."

James eyed him irritably. "Pigma, how's about we don't bore the kid with our financial problems? And refrain from telling the whole deck, while we're at it?"

Wolf blinked up at him confusedly. "What?"

Pigma sighed. "...Never mind, never mind. James is right…I'm just ramblin' about nothin'."

Almost immediately upon making their way onto the deck, the Team was greeted by an onslaught of voices ringing from across the deck.

"There they are! They've landed!"

"James is at the front! Get a good shot of him!"

"Mr. McCloud, over here!"

Pigma shielded his face disgustedly. "Ugh. As if this night needed to be worse."

Before he could even fully turn around, Wolf's his eyes were assaulted by the blinding strobe of flashing camera-bots, as excited-looking people with holovid recorders and news tablets raced up to the pilots, shouting over each other and bombarding them with questions. Peppy shielded Wolf from the camera flashes with his arm until a parade of armored security dogs barged through and started shoving the news hounds off, yelling at them to return to their seats. Passengers drawn to the excitement began poking their heads over the struggling media crews, holding up comm. devices and recording the Team eagerly.

Men in uniforms snaked through the wall of security, racing up to James with a salute in one hand and a glowing datapad in the other.

"Mr. McCloud, Tethysian authorities have spotted some suspicious cargo-running outside of Sector χ, intelligence suggests it might be VLA. The details are on this file, if you could take the time to—"

"General Pepper wants an update on the Fleet Ops report, Mr. McCloud. He says it's urgent—"

"Sir, Clarissa Danes from Corneria News Hour wants to schedule that interview you talked about this week, but that slot's already filled by the Planetary Times—"

"If you have a moment, sir, I've got a comm. The Academy's reminding you about the classes you promised to host on Thursday. What should I tell them?"

James was exhausted and fighting the influx of tired creases building over the rim of his sunglasses, but the average person would never know that with how he walked straight into the dizzying hailstorm of assignments and inquiries, rapidly addressing each one in snappy fashion.

"Cancel all interviews for this week. Get the folks from P.S. on comm., tell them I'll set up a meeting with them once I'm back. No envoys to Tethys till I check in. You in the back, tell Cornelius—er, General Pepper that I'll have the report on his desk tomorrow morning, just tell him to make up to me at the next Defense Force meeting." He looked about, a bit dazed. "Am I forgetting anything?"

Someone in the back called out. "The Academy, sir. This week's maneuvering lessons, you said you'd take them."

Wolf looked up at Peppy curiously. "The Academy?"

"Just another part of our work. Stay very quiet, okay?"

"Okay!" said Wolf brightly, continuing to watch James address the strobing camera lights and overlapping voices, feeling a rush of admiration. It was becoming clear to him that his new friends—James especially—weren't ordinary, everyday people. They had to be famous, or at least very important to warrant attention like this.

A grizzled Terrier raced through the swath of uniformed canines, looking out of breath. "There you guys are." He did a hasty salute under his round Lieutenant's service cap.

James returned it dismissively. "At ease, Henry. You know you don't have to salute around me."

"Yeah, but those roaches from the press are watching. They see any lax in army conduct, they start writing about it." The Terrier lowered his voice. "I've been looking all over for you. None of you have reported for hours, and Masterson and the other guys at Command are breathing down my neck!" His brow furrowed as he searched the group of them. "What happened? Where's the fugitive?"

The Fox's expression darkened. "He didn't make it."

The Lieutenant jerked his head back. "What? You let another Simian escape?"

"It's more complicated than that," said James exasperatedly, glancing around him cautiously before beckoning him closer. He began muttering to him, simplifying the evening's events in a hushed tone.

The Lieutenant gaped. "A beast? Are you sure?"

"I don't know what it was…" James looked equally confounded. "God only knows what else is crawling down there. No one's set foot on that planet in whoever knows how long…seems like primitive life took shape in the absence of any civilization." He looked down, haggard and defeated. "Whatever it was, it nabbed our felon. Didn't leave a single trace of him."

"This is all crazy. None of you should've even been down there, that sector's restricted." The Lieutenant grimaced under his cap. "The High Generals aren't going to like this, even if they believe it. With the way you dove after this guy after the assassination, they were dead set on pinning him to the wall, especially with the ruckus he made on the news."

James responded coldly. "I think the CDF'll survive just fine going one week without making another media circus out of a Venomian's corpse."

The other man chuckled incredulously. "Sometimes I wish I had the nerve to talk about the higher-ups like you do, sir." He looked up hopefully. "Can I at least tell them that you got some new intel before you lost him?"

James sighed, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be the truth."

"Oof. Well, bad news or not, the High Generals are gonna want to hear about this. Expect a mess of paperwork from them when you get back to—" The Terrier's eyes wandered as he talked, before catching sight of Wolf's grubby face behind Peppy, which made him stop. "Who's the kid?

Peppy immediately stepped forward. "Recovered hostage taken by one of the Venomians during the assassination. He's safe and sound now."

"I wasn't notified of any hostage situation."

"Happened in the rush right before he fled the scene back at the plant," said Peppy, quite convincingly. "Y'know how these radicals love to make a racket."

The Lieutenant's shaggy face softened. "Well, at least this night wasn't a total loss, then. Poor little guy. Must've been scared out of his mind." He bent down, smiling at him. "Don't worry, son, you'll be home soon. You've been a brave boy tonight." He looked up at the Peppy and the others. "His parents must be in a wreck. Should I contact them to let 'em rest easy?"

"We'll do it. You take it easy."

The Lieutenant shrugged and offered them another salute, before another camera went off over his shoulder, prompting him to turn and yell in that direction. James promptly took Wolf aside, who had been too busy gawking at the rest of the deck to listen in on the conversation.

"Look, look! It's a robot!" He pointed at a Robo-Loader moving crates and fuel canisters on the other end deck. "And it's big enough to topple a ship!"

"Great, kid, just great. Here..." He bent down, unwrapping the bandages from Wolf's hands. "Let's change you into some new ones."

As soon as he was done, he stood and snapped his fingers to beckon the Lieutenant back to him, handing him the bloodied bandage and lowering his voice. "Do me a favor: get a genetic signature off of this and patch a long-distance transmission to Med-QRS. Tell them to start scanning for any familial matches in the memory banks. Use my jurisdiction code if they try to deny access—and be discreet about it. Go!"

The Lieutenant, looking a bit confused, raced off. James returned to the horde of fleet personnel.

"Yes, yes—I'll see to all of your inquiries one at a time, but in order of priority—!" He looked back exasperatedly. "Ugh, Peppy, you mind helping out here? I've got a mountain of these protocols, and only two hands to deal with them."

"On it. Wolf, I need to take care of some work-related stuff for a moment. I'm gonna leave you with Pigma for just a second, okay? I'll catch up with you both in a bit."

"Wha—me?" Pigma yelped. "What am I gonna do with him?"

"Pigma! Watch him."

"Alright, alright, don't get your whiskers bent outta shape I'm doing it, goddamn it..."

Peppy called back as he squeezed through the row of deck personnel. "And behave yourself around him, you hear? I don't want to come back to find him talking like a foul-mouthed coot. We've already got one too many."

Pigma grumbled something inaudible, pulling Wolf from almost accidentally talking to some random officers and marching off.

"C'mon sport, let's find somewhere to sit. You're probably tired."

Wolf, still wide-eyed and absorbing everything, looked disappointed. "I'm not tired. I want to see more of the ship!"

"Yeah, well, I'm tired, and you can't go anywhere on the ship by yourself." Pigma collapsed on a chair, shutting his eyes for the first time all evening.

Wolf sat down next to him reproachfully. "I can take care of myself, you know," he said, in his best attempt to sound capable. "Exploring the ship myself wouldn't be a problem."

Pigma shot a bemused eyelid open. "I already said 'no', kid."

"I've been in more dangerous places than this," Wolf grumbled.

Eyelids still closed, Pigma let out chuckle. "Kid, I've been all over across this galaxy, to nearly every planet in known space, and I can promise you that there are places a lot more dangerous than those little caves of yours."

Wolf's face lit up. "You've actually seen places like that?"

"More places than I can count." Pigma stretched his aching legs, scratching the stubble patching his girthy chin. "Sometimes I can't believe me, James n' Peppy are still alive at our age after some of the shi—er, the 'stuff' we've been through. But it comes with the job, I guess."

"What kind of stuff do you do?" Wolf asked, eyes round with excitement. "Have you've ever flown anywhere super-dangerous? How many people have you killed in your spaceship?"

Pigma cracked a smile. "Hey, calm your boosters there, kid. That's a lot of stuff that's way over your head…'specially that last one. It's your first day in the real world, for Christ's sake…you should be focusing your interests on other things, like makin' friends with other kids, or getting to eat real food…not how many people I've vaporized outta their ship and flung into space."

Wolf's eyes became big. "Is that something you've done that before?"

Beneath his closed eyes, Pigma cursed himself under his breath. "That's not the point, kid. What I'm saying is—"

"Mr. Dengar?"

A new voice clearing its throat caused Pigma to shoot his eyes open, turning to see a stiff dachshund in a Carrier's Uniform standing over them both.

"Mr. Dengar, The CDF Transmission came back, with the fee attached."

Pigma straightened up in his seat, his tired lines evaporating immediately. "Alright! And here I was, thinking this mission would end on a sour note. C'mon, then, give me the good news."

"Well, Captain—given the circumstances, the CDF had to consider the nature of the fugitive," The Carrier informed him. "His, uh, 'killed in pursuit' status, I mean. Because of that, the amount had to be re-evaluated—"

Pigma frowned. "Something tells me all this diplomatic talk is gonna lead someplace I don't like." He stood up and beckoned the man to walk someplace out of Wolf's earshot. "Right, out with it. What's the damage?"

The Carrier paused, hands out transaction panel. "I'm afraid you'll be getting a third of your usual rate."

"What?!" yelled Pigma fumingly. "That's even less than last time! That's not enough to buy junk from a Macbethan gear peddler! What do you expect our Team to do with this, wipe our—" He halted mid-sentence, hesitant to start spilling headfirst into a boiling rant with Wolf sitting a few yards away and watching him shout with a curious look.

The Carrier held out the datapad, looking somewhat embarrassed. "My apologies, sir. I understand your dissatisfaction. As always, our Department of Service Member Affairs is open to any complaints or inquiries you may have."

Pigma's meaty hands snatched the pad from him. "Yeah, yeah, and they'll just give me a nicer version of the same story." He waved him off dismissively, voice at a quiet boil. "Just get lost. I'm too tired to deal with you right now."

The dog snapped an uncomfortable salute before marching off. Pigma shoved the pad into his jacket, grumbling under his breath as he stomped back to where Wolf was sitting and plopped down next to him. "Better make that 'twenty years without full-scale repairs' on those Arwings."

Wolf blinked obliviously. "Did something happen? What got you so mad?"

Pigma half-smiled for his sake. "I ain't mad, kid. I never get mad…m'just tired, is all."

"Why? Is…" He looked back naively. "Did that guy say something mean?"

"You could say that. Sometimes this job…well, let's just say it isn't always what I'd like it to be. It certainly isn't the way it was back when I first joined up." His gaze wandered off, the longing in his voice almost bitter. "Forcing myself to climb back into that cockpit's getting harder and harder every day. Sometimes, I even hate it."

"Why's that?"

Pigma sighed. The boy would certainly be a change of ears, and wouldn't shut him up or dismiss his grumblings like Peppy or James did. He could've told him everything, vented it all out: how frustrated he was growing with the Cornerian Fleet, how things had gotten worse for the team, not better…how suddenly their lives became all about doing the grunt work he'd signed onto Star Fox specifically to avoid. He could have talked about how his life had devolved into all work, no thrills, barely any pay, and a lot less sleep…everything Star Fox didn't used to be.

But he didn't. The Hog grimaced, distant and disillusioned. Nothing would come out of dumping all of that on the boy. He wouldn't understand, anyway. He looked down at Wolf, finding himself envying the naivety in his round face, and how many years away from the doldrums of adulthood it was.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's all just a bunch of boring grown-up stuff."

Before he could make another lousy attempt to sound reassuring, Peppy appeared behind them at a brisk pace. "Pigma, what's going on? I heard raised voices." He eyed him warily. "You didn't start one of your brawls in front of the kid, did you? He doesn't need that to be his first lesson of being back in civilization."

Pigma holds up transaction pad from his jacket. "CDF's beamed over our paycheck."

Peppy's wry look faltered. "...Oh. I see. I take it things didn't go well?"

"Went about as well as usual," Pigma reported gloomily. "You know how the CDF loves to reward its heroes. Especially now that they're older."

Seeming to absorb the situation with a glance, Peppy cleared his throat. "We'll talk about it later. Like James said, no point in boring Wolf on his first day out of those caves. Speaking of which, I stopped by a Refreshment Kiosk and brought you something, bud." His expression brightened as he handed Wolf a steaming paper cup. "Here ya go. This oughta put some warmth back into those cheeks. You're probably freezing to the bone."

Wolf sniffs it unsurely, darting his tongue over the drink's brim in a characteristically canine fashion. He gagged almost immediately, fur spiking and face crinkling at an onslaught of sweet, artificial substances on his tongue.

"BLEGH. What is this?" He coughed, glaring at him crossly.

"Whoa, it's hot chocolate, not poison." Sighing, Peppy took the cup from him. "I guess with what you're used to eating, it's probably too strong for you."

Pigma plucked cup from Peppy's hand in the most non-discrete way possible. "Aw, well, whaddya gonna do? It'd be a shame if it went to waste." He gulped it down in one swig. "A crying shame."

The Rabbit rolled his eyes. "You're an even bigger kid than he is, you know that?"

Wiping the line of chocolate from his upper lip, Pigma put his hands up innocently. "Hey, if the kid doesn't like it, the kid doesn't like it. Nothin' anyone can do about that." He developed a sly look. "By the way, if you end up taking the kid out somewhere nice to eat, let me know so I can come along…y'know, to be, um, emotional support in case any of the food doesn't sit well with him."

Peppy glowered at him. "You don't need any more excuses to get any fatter."

Pigma's smile vanished. "Hey, watch it. I ain't afraid to give you a bloody nose in front of the kid."

Wolf was struggling to keep a straight face at the sight of the two bickering pilots, when he heard a buzz from Peppy's wrist. With his headset switched off, Peppy hit the slide button on his wrist-comm., and heard James' voice crackling through.

"Peppy, are you and Pigma still there?"

"Yeah, we haven't left the deck." He glanced around to see that James was nowhere to be found, and that the crowd of reporters and security guards had dissipated. "Where'd you…?"

"I'm in the Cargo Hold," James said immediately. "Listen, you both need to get down here, right away. There's something you need to see."

Pigma, listening in, shot a questioning look at Peppy, before the Rabbit responded. "Okay, then. As soon as we escort Wolf to a passenger cabin and get 'im situated, we'll head right over—"

"There's no time for that," James cut over him. "Have someone else do it. Just get down here as quickly as you can." Both pilots exchanged an odd look. They could both sense how thin and frail their Leader's voice was.

"Did something happen?" Peppy asked slowly.

"Something complicated's come up, about the boy…" A haggard pause staggered his voice.

Wolf, who was standing directly in earshot of Peppy's wrist-comm., looked up immediately. He kept his gaze away to look like he wasn't eavesdropping, but his ears were perked in alarm.

A grim, silent understanding passed between Peppy and Pigma, as they looked at each other with reformed expressions. They both refrained from turning to the boy next to them.

"We're on our way." Switching his comm. off instantly and cleansing his face of any apprehension, he beckoned a female Retriever in a white uniform over. He glanced down at the boy. "Wolf, this lady's going to take you someplace cozy where you can rest. You can trust her, alright? Just follow her, and everything will be fine."

"You're leaving?" Wolf asked, looking startled.

"We'll just be a few rooms away," Peppy assured him. "We're just going to another room to talk about some grown-up things. It won't take long."

He was already in the process of walking, when he felt a small pull on his coat. He looked down to see Wolf clinging to the ends of Peppy's coat, purple eyes fraught with anxiety and his round face trembling.

"P-Please, don't! Don't go!"

At first, Peppy just thought that he was exhibiting typical child's behavior, of not wanting to be left alone. But looking at Wolf's frantic expression made him realize that he was having a genuine panic attack, thinking that they were all going to abandon him. He didn't know what could have brought that about and wrote it off with a gentle look as just some childish, innocent paranoia.

Peppy gently plucked the boy's small fingers off of him. "C'mon, now. Didn't you hear what James said down in those caves? We all promised that we wouldn't leave you behind." He regarded him with an earnest look. "You trust me, don't you?"

Hesitantly, Wolf dropped his gaze to the ground and gave a small nod. Peppy gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll check up on you later, bud. Go on, now."

Hesitantly, Wolf trudged alongside the pilot escorting him by the hand, looking back at them anxiously and wondering if he had accidentally done something after all.

---

The sliding door shut behind the three pilots as they retreated into the small compartment several floors beneath the main deck. There was barely enough room to stand at full height within it, and not a soul with prying eyes or ears in sight; just the elbow-high mountain of green storage crates rattling in sync with the hum of the distant ship engines.

The second that the door shut behind Peppy, he and Pigma both finally let the excitement erupt from their voices.

"Well?" he asked. "Did the genetic archives turn up anything?"

Slowly, James turned to them, looking too stunned for words, holding a round holo-transmissions device aloft in his numb fingers. Pigma nabbed it and examined it, his brow unraveling and face lapsing into a state of rigid shock.

Peppy read his expression, feeling the air rush from his mouth. "It's a match, isn't it?"

Pigma exclaimed feebly. "…It's him. He's his son…Maxwell's."

The air became a condensed fever, with the echo of Pigma's words lingering in the air and seeming to hollow their way into all of their hearts. They had all ruminated the possibility in their minds throughout the whole shuttle ride from Venom, but hearing it confirmed, stark and real, snatched the breath from all of them.

Pigma was overcome with visible joy, sliding back against the wall behind him. His overjoyed face faded as he glanced worryingly at Peppy, whose maroon eyes were welling up.

"Peppy? You alright?"

Peppy turned from them all, barely able to form any words. He repeatedly felt the start of a million questions on the tip of his tongue, only to be scattered each time by the overwhelming tide of emotion. He made a muffled sound behind his fingers. "I…I can't believe it. I gave up hope years ago, spent so much time wondering what may have happened to him, and yet…here he is. Maxwell's little boy…alive." His voice hiccupped into a watery, happy laugh that rattled the tears springing down his cheeks and dangling at the edge of his whiskers. "Y'know, when we were all rookie pilots, we used to joke that we'd never live long enough to settle down and have kids of our own, and now look at us all these years later: First my Lucy, and then James' young 'un Fox, and now…Maxwell and Kate's little boy." He looked up, beady eyes overjoyed. "Even if all of us didn't make it, our children did."

Standing out of the light, James clenched his fist. His distant look hardened as he swerved it elsewhere.

Pigma laughed gruffly, his outward happiness compromised somewhat by a rough and street-honed exterior that didn't allow for crying. "I can barely believe it, either. But how is it possible he survived what happened to Max? And to have been here of all places, all this time...under our noses..." Then, he paused. "Wait, then…does that also mean…?"

James finally spoke. "…Katrina must also be dead."

The burgeoning excitement in the room evaporated. A grim and mournful silence fell over all of them.

"Now, wait a minute..." Pigma started hoarsely. "She could still be alive, for all we know; after Max died, she and Wolf disappeared together. I mean, we found Wolf here, maybe she's on the planet too, somewhere we haven't looked—"

"Look out there, Pigma," said James. "That boy's nine…ten at the most. How could she still be alive?"

Peppy let his long ears droop, looking haggard with grief. "James is right. Katrina would die before abandoning her child, let alone letting him grow up to that age alone and defenseless on a planet like Venom."

The air was cold and thin around them. Pigma, encumbered by the tight space and the feeling in his chest, slumped against one of the metal crates.

"But…why here? Why Venom of all places?" His eyes fell on the dogtag sitting on the counter next to James. "Alone with this thing, with no idea of who or where he comes from, yet somehow able to speak like he grew up on a Cornerian city block…so much of this doesn't add up." He sighed hoarsely. "To think that the only world he knows is that black pit down there…away from warmth, from people…"

His gaze wandered past the ground.

"There's so much Wolf needs to know. About his mother and father, about where he comes from… So much for us to let him do, to—"

Peppy's head swerved up instantly. "That's precisely what he doesn't need right now," he said. "Put yerself in his shoes, Pigma. He's lived his whole life isolated, cut off from the rest of the galaxy…he's barely ready for the world, much less ready for the truth. We don't need to shoulder him with that burden on his first day out of those caves." He swallowed deeply. "We can't tell him about his parents….not when we don't know what kind of damage it'll do to him."

"I dunno," said Pigma. "Think about how long he was down there. He might be damaged already. …"

"You don't know that," Peppy said defensively. "Maybe there's still a chance for him to adapt, to mold into the person he would've been if hadn't been stranded there…if he'd had the chance to be normal. We should at least give him that chance."

Pigma raised his eyebrows. "By pretending that we don't know anything. By lying to him."

"He might see it that way when he finds out. He might even resent us for it when he's older." Peppy's shoulders sank desperately. "But I just…wanna give him a chance to be happy till then."

The Hog's look softened. "I know you do, Pep. Still, even if he never finds out, childhood's gonna be an uphill battle for him anyway. He's gonna have a hard time adapting…being in a normal society, mingling with other kids…"

Peppy paled. "Are we sure he's ready for that?"

"Well, we're dancing around the big question, aren't we?" Pigma looked at the other men in the room. "Now that we've found him, what are we gonna do with him?"

Peppy looking down at glossy floor, searching his own worn face for ideas. He pawed at his whiskers absentmindedly, as he always did when he was lost in thought.

"I…I don't know. We gotta be mighty careful how we go about this. This is ain't any ordinary child we're talkin' about. His whole future depends on us."

"Well, we're headed to Corneria, aren't we?" offered Pigma. "I don't see why we can't look for a decent home for him. He's a cute little tyke, and I'm sure there's some family that would love to—"

"What, are you out of your mind, Pigma? Just look at him!" said Peppy irritably. "He's been cooped up on this planet for so long, he barely knows the first thing about civilization—he barely trusts us as it is, and you want to toss him to some family of strangers? How well do you think that'll turn out?!"

"Alright, alright! No need to get huffed up. It was just a thought…" His voice retreated defeatedly, before he slowly started it up again, trying to sound helpful. "But we could still find some place nice for him, can't we? Y'know…maybe a family that can handle a kid with 'special needs', or whatever?"

The Rabbit shook his head as he paced about. "You really think there's a family in a thousand lightyears who would take him the way he is now? Adopting a boy his age is already a hard sell—now compound all of that with all the cave livin' he's done, all the moldin' he needs…" He stopped. "Worse yet…even if we do find someone who wants him, the kind of parents he could end up with is its own gamble. They could be impatient with him, demanding…" His maroon eyes became anxious. "…even cruel."

A rare look of sympathy drew out of Pigma's quarrelsome features. "What do we do, then? Who do we leave him with?"

After interrogating the glossy floor for a few moments, Peppy's eyes lit up.

"We don't leave him with anyone." He straightened determinedly. "I say we take him in."

James jerked his head up instantly.

Pigma's confused look swerved around the room, before returning to the Rabbit. "Hang on, you mean—'we' as in one of…?" Immediately, his hands shot up in protest. "Oh, no. No-no, no, no, no. Don't look at me—this whole child-rearing thing is your guys' thing, not mine."

"It wouldn't have to be just one of us," assured Peppy, trying to ease him into it. The three of us could do it. Just hear me out: we could take turns raising him."

"We're pilots, Peppy, not godmothers," said Pigma. "How are gonna find the time to work him into our lives, anyway? We already have our hands full with missions, Academy duty..."

"That's just it—we could work around that," Peppy said hastily. "We could handle it like our old witness protection training. If one of us is busy, the other could take him. We all could pitch in what he needs, bounce the responsibility off between each other."

That prompted Pigma to pause. "Hmm, when you put it that way…that could actually work. Yeah…yeah, it could." His expression changed, seeming to gradually come around to the idea. "You 'n James both have kids of your own…so he wouldn't have to grow up alone…"

"And, we could do it all properly, with the privacy Wolf needs," Peppy added excitedly. No meddling social workers, or bullying kids to pick on him. We could help him adapt at his own pace; show him the world he's never seen bit by bit. Make him ready to face it himself. The three of us could give him the upbringing he should've had."

Pigma smiled. "You know what? That's a damn fine idea. I say we do it. And it's what he deserves, too…" He extended his arms heartily. "He's spent way too much of his life down in that hellhole, with no one there for him…"

"…and now, he can have three parents instead of settling for just two," Peppy finished for him. "We could all be there for him."

Pigma nodded approvingly. "And it's what Kate and Max would've wanted for him. We could make things right, for them."

Peppy beamed. "Exactly!" He clapped hands together happily. "Oh, there'll be so much for us to do! I could refurnish Lucy's old nursery room…and her old swing's still in good shape!"

"James and I could teach him dive ball, and speeder riding—just like we did with Fox!" Pigma added. "He'll get such a kick outta that!"

Peppy's voice seemed to race on without him. "I could take him to the Fichinese Mountains and show him how to fish—Oh! We could take him on a road trip to the Inari Arches on the seafront! And what about his birthday? We have nine to make up for!"

Their excitement and laughter churned the air in the room, before slowly dissipating as they realized how deathly silent James was. He stood rigidly in the corner of the compartment with his arms folded, barely moving outside of the periodic rising and falling of his shoulders, seething almost inaudibly behind a clamped mouth. The two pilots' smiles immediately faded at the sight of the murky expression on their Leader's face as he stared off into nothing.

Peppy knew that look only too well and didn't need to see past James' sunglasses to know how scaldingly he was driving his gaze into the ground.

He acknowledged him, tentatively breaking the stillness in the room. "You're not saying much, James."

James barely turned to them. "I don't know what you're expecting me to say. What, you want me to be dancing about and frolicking like the two of you?" Quiet anger was brewing in his voice. "I don't even know how you can stand there and celebrate the son of one of our worst enemies surviving, much less get giddy about playing nursemaid for him after everything his father did."

Pigma looked shocked. "C'mon, Jim…that was a long time ago. Surely by now—"

James locked on him sharply. "By now, what? None of it matters anymore?"

Peppy's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden spike in his friend's voice. He watched as Pigma paused cautiously. "That's not what I said—"

"But it's what you meant," James cut him off heatedly. "Do you think however much time has passed changes a damn thing? Have you already forgotten what Maxwell did to all of us? The suffering he caused, the lives he ruined? Maybe time has allowed you to forget, Pigma, but I haven't forgotten a thing!"

Pigma's voice started again slowly, from an imploring place. "Jim…no one's denying what Maxwell did, but he was our friend before all that—"

"What he was 'before' doesn't matter! All that does is what he did afterwards, what he became."

"But, James—" Pigma protested.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do." James turned his gaze and wrath on him. "We're going to hand the boy to the authorities. Then we're returning to CDF HQ for a debriefing on tonight's mission. That's our only duty for the night. What happens to him after that isn't any of our business."

Pigma stared open-mouthed. "'Not our business'? James, that's Max's son!"

"Exactly," James snapped. "You want to talk about what he deserves? Keep him somewhere where he won't pose a threat to anyone—that's what he deserves."

Not waiting for either co-pilot to utter another word, James stormed past both of them and out the sliding door. Pigma's mouth was still hanging ajar as he watched the direction in which he left. He turned to the Rabbit bewilderedly.

"What the hell's gotten into him?"

Peppy, who had been absorbing every word of James' this entire time in complete silence, slowly straightened up. Before his wingmate could motion any closer to the door, he barred him with a gloved hand.

"Hold up. Let me talk to him. Just…go to the Engineering Room and make sure everything's up to snuff."

Pigma looked at the door dubiously. "I dunno, Pep…you heard the tone of his voice. That sounded like an order to me."

Peppy didn't say anything, with only one thought on his mind as he eyed the door with heightened suspicion: Since when did James' orders become declarations instead of something we all weigh in on?

James was still at the other end of the hallway when Peppy slipped out the door after him, straining to keep up with his ferociously brisk steps. James' brown-tipped ears perked at the sound of the quiet footsteps behind him.

Before the Rabbit could say a word, James barked at him without turning. "Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it right now."

"James, I know what this is about," Peppy ventured quietly.

"Funny. I don't remember asking you to dog after me and start prying," James snapped.

Peppy hid his sense of alarm, tiptoeing around the jagged hostility in James' voice. "Prying? James, that's not what I'm doing. I just want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," James snapped.

He walked faster, something igniting his pace.

Peppy narrowed his eyes skeptically as he kept up with him. "You've been acting strange ever since Wolf told us who he was. I saw it the second you saw what was on the tag. It's been on your mind the whole time, hasn't it? You, and Maxwell?"

James' cheeks tensed as he clenched his teeth behind his closed mouth. Suddenly, the tired lines and bruises that had molded into his face over the years started to grow clearer, as a shadow passed over them. Whatever memories were racing through his head, he was clearly struggling under the weight of them. Every sound, every traumatic word, every haunting element of what had happened…all those years ago…

Then, his face tightened into a restraining scowl. "I'm not discussing this right now. Our only job is to deliver him to civilized space. Wayward children aren't in our field of jurisdiction, they're handed to the Cornerian Authorities." He looked past Peppy dismissively. "I'm going to page Civilian Affairs to get things in order for when we land. We give him to them, and that'll be the end of it."

"That's not just your decision to make!" Peppy protested.

James' boots slid to a halt in front of the elevator pod bookending the hallway. "The hell it isn't. I'm doing what I should have done long ago." He jammed the elevator button angrily, voice lowering to a smoldering tone. "Banishing the O'Donnell family out of sight and out of mind, before they can cause anymore suffering to anyone else."

Peppy's eyebrows furrowed. "What exactly are you afraid is gonna happen if we take him in?"

James jerked upright like he had been singed, looking at him with a sense of incredulity. "Gee, I don't know, Pep, can you think of any potential issues that might come about with raising the son of a murderer? Seems pretty fucking straightforward to me."

An insuppressible scoff escaped Peppy. "You don't honestly think that just because he's Maxwell's son that he'll grow up to be—?"

"That's exactly what I think," James growled. "And so would you and Pigma if either of you had any sense at all. Instead, you're parading around, jumping with joy at the prospect of raising Max's kid." His voice was rippling with scorn. "Tell me, do you two feel any shame, swooning over the happy life you'll give that kid, spitting on the graves of everyone who suffered at the hands of that scumbag father of his?"

"He's just a boy!" Peppy insisted. "Wolf doesn't know about any of that—"

The elevator doors flew open, and James stormed inside. "He doesn't have to know anything about where he comes from to follow in the footsteps of his bastard father!"

Before the metallic doors could lurch shut, Peppy held it open, pleading through them as they rattled beneath his fingers. "Why're you talkin' like this is all set in stone? Just because he can end up like Max doesn't mean he will!"

"Oh, really?" demanded James heatedly. "And what's going to prevent him from turning out the same, exactly?"

"Us."

Peppy looked around him to make sure no one was around to step in with them, before slipping into the elevator pod himself and jabbing the 'hold' button.

"Look, we can't change the things that Max did…" He took a deep breath, trying to purge all franticness from his voice as he implored the reflective sheen of James' glasses. "But why can't we try to change his son for the better? We can raise him right. Teach him the right lessons, set him on the right path…make sure he doesn't end up the same way—

"No, you can't." James bashed the elevator button, springing the compartment into movement, and jabbed a gloved finger at him. "That's what you and Pigma don't understand. No. You. Can't." His voice embedded every word into the Rabbit. "There isn't a 'right path' for someone—something like him. He's not just another one of those kids you teach back at the Academy…what's wrong with him can't just be coddled away, with you patting him on the ears or chiding his mistakes away."

As the elevator pod slowed to a hobble, James lowered his head dubiously, his voice simmering down.

"I know what you're trying to do, Peppy, believe me. But it won't sway him…any more than it swayed his father," He murmured, almost more to himself. "Everything wrong with him is baked into his genes...apart of his nature, his blood. There's no changing what he'll grow into…any fmore than there's any saving a ship that's already going down in orbit. You can't change where it's heading, or the speed in which it's crashing. All that you can do is destroy it…before it destroys anything else." His voice trailed off into silence. Then it hardened back into a low growl. "We do that by keeping that boy away from other people."

Peppy stood there silently, a knot of horror and disbelief worming inside of his stomach. He watched all of the hatred pour out of the fox's face as he spoke, completely aghast as to where it was coming from. In all the years he'd flown with him, Peppy had never once seen him like this. There wasn't a person in the galaxy James would turn his back on…no one he wouldn't try to help, or try to understand first. He'd watched him reach out to complete strangers, to enemies they had been ordered to kill. But now, with this boy, James wasn't willing to do any of that. He was practically shaking, eyes practically searing through his dark sunglasses. It was like Wolf specifically had reopened something...gashed open a wound that James wanted to stay closed.

The fox's frigid voice snapped him back to reality. "We're not going to stand idly by this time," he said. "Time is on our side. If we have a chance to intervene, before he grows up to be like his father—"

"If he grows up to be like him," Peppy cut in. "You're not listening to yourself, James. You've already decided what he'll grow into, what kind of damage he's going to do—"

"One of us has to act like an adult and assess the situation!" James turned savagely, discarding his quiet tone. "It's not my fault that you and Pigma are too detached from reality to see that boy for what he really is!"

Peppy shook his head. "This isn't like you, James. It ain't like you at all. You were kind to him down there, saved his life—and now you're actin' like he's not even the same child."

"That was before I knew who he was," James snarled. "If I had known that he was Maxwell's spawn, I would've never lifted a finger to help him."

Peppy felt his heart drop, scarcely believing what he'd heard. "For God's sake, do you hear yourself?! You're talking about a boy...a child!"

"You know damn well that he's not just anyone's child!" James snapped. "That bloodline is a cancer; it destroys everything it touches. Everything… And I'm going to make sure it doesn't bring any more harm."

Then Peppy saw it. It was only there for an instant, and he almost missed it: the look of vindication in his Leader's face, one that was almost ravenous. Upon seeing it, his soft features suddenly hardened in a way that was not at all characteristic of him.

"Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better about what you're doin'? Dumping a grudge on a boy's shoulders?"

James' face went noticeably rigid behind his glasses. "Don't mix subjects. That's not what this is about."

"Bullshit it's not," barked Peppy. "Y'think I don't know what's really going on? This has nothin' to do with whatever risk Wolf poses, or what he'll grow up into." Realization heated his maroon eyes. "This is your way of getting at Max. This is your way of punishing him, isn't it?"

"Don't stand there and act like that boy has nothing to do with this," James snapped. "I'm doing what's necessary, to keep people safe."

Peppy's fur bristled. "You're being petty and childish, is what you're doing. You're using all of this as an excuse to condemn a boy you barely even know yet—"

"I don't have to know him," James savagely cut over him. "His father and I got plenty of time to know each other before he was even born."

"What Maxwell did to you has nothing to do with Wolf!" shouted Peppy.

James swerved to him in the tight compartment space, hurling his words into the Rabbit's face. "You think this is about me? Maxwell can't hurt me or anyone else anymore, Peppy…he's dead. This is about that boy might become if he's allowed to grow up and be around normal people! He needs to be kept away…far away!"

"So, that's it, then. That's the new life Wolf gets to look forward to, is it?" Peppy demanded. "Leaving that abyss of a planet behind just to be isolated from the rest of the galaxy some more?" He shook his head up at him. "I don't know how you can do that to him without bein' disgusted with yourself."

The elevator doors flew open, leading to a brightly-lit white, contrasting the huge viewports that were pitch-black and wreathed in the thick smog of the Venomian atmosphere.

James stepped out, leaving Peppy inside dismissively. "Stay upset, then. You'll thank me later, once you and Pigma have woken up from your farcical delusions of him being a harmless little kid." The black lenses perched on his snout locked on the door leading to the communication room on the opposite end of the hallway. "This conversation's over. We're handing him to child services. The second we land."

Standing worldlessly in the open elevator, Peppy watched him walk off with a stunned look plastered on his face. He began to dart his gaze about helplessly…and then he straightened up.

"Then I'll raise himself I have to."

James stopped mid-stride like he'd been jolted. He swerved around an instant. "What?"

"I'll sign whatever's required to adopt him," Peppy said with a new defiance as he stepped out. "I've already had a head start raising a kid of my own…even a few years ahead of you. I've got a good idea where to start with Wolf." He raised his chin at him frostily. "Since you seem pretty hellbent to avoid the boy at all costs, I'll make sure to raise him far away from you."

The disbelief in James' face caused his mouth to partially slip open. He was not a stranger to having his decisions questioned or challenged, especially with the frequency in which he and Pigma butted heads. Being defied so unapologetically, however, was a sting Pigma hadn't inflicted upon him in years…and one that Peppy, someone who took his side in practically every ordeal, had never done.

James fixed a glare on him. "You'll do nothing of the sort. I forbid it."

"What I decide to do as a citizen is outside of your jurisdiction, James," said Peppy. "You may outrank me when it comes to the Team, but not anywhere else. I'm doing this, with or without your approval. If you look at that boy and only see Maxwell O'Donnell and all the scars he's inflicted on you, then fine. But that doesn't mean the rest of us have to."

James curled his lip scornfully. "You've completely lost it. You're letting your sentimentality blind you…like you always do. You're letting it blind you from seeing that boy for what he really is…for what he'll grow up to be."

Peppy stood taller. "He deserves to grow up and decide whether or not he wants to go on that path himself! Not you deciding it for him!"

James sucked his growl under a dry breath, looking fed up as he stood next to the observatory window. His gaze retreated to the glass, speaking quietly instead of catapulting his voice into more shouting.

"Stop for a moment and think about what you're doing. Let's say you go through with this farce…that you live out this delusion." The scenario shimmered back at him through the viewport. "You start raising him, and then what? When he starts showing all the bad signs, the dangerous ones, what are you going to do? You want to endanger innocent people on the slim gamble that he won't turn into a despot like his bastard father? When he starts veering off course, are you going to keep him in your house?" He eyed him. "Around your daughter?"

"Let me worry about that," Peppy dismissed. "I've worked with plenty of children…and a fair share of troubled ones too."

"Regular children, not the sons of murderers, traitors, felons…" James corrected him quietly. "What's your firm voice and patient guidance going to do when he grows up to be just like his father? When he starts wreaking the same carnage...?"

"You don't know that he will," Peppy said firmly. "None of us do. There's no—"

James cut in savagely. "No guarantee? Is that really the hill you want to die on? The excuse you're going to cower behind on the day when Wolf eventually snaps…?"

"At least I'll be trying to help him!" Peppy glared at him. "Whatever happens, I won't just give up on him like you!"

"You can stand there and act like I don't have a reason to," James muttered. "You're in such a rush to take this kid in, expose your home to the risk, put everything on the line for Maxwell's child of all people…" He stared out the viewport, past his reflection and the atmospheric haze. "You knew Max just as well as I did…you saw firsthand how he repaid us, in spite of all we did for him…" He turned back to him. "You remember just as well as I how he'd only think of his own skin, how he'd be willing to turn tail and abandon all of us at the precise moment the odds were against him…"

Peppy's eyes wandered uncomfortably.

"Look at me, Peppy," James ordered, driving the point of his gaze into him. "And seriously ask yourself: everything you're doing for Wolf, do you think Maxwell would've done the same for any of our children? Do you ever remember him being that selfless, even when he was friends with all of us?"

At that moment, Peppy's expression shambled. He had no biting retorts or defenses to counter with.

James nodded spitefully. "That's what I thought."

He resumed walking, moving past his friend's drooping long ears and defeated expression. Then, Peppy raised his head.

"What about Kate?"

James didn't break pace. "What about her?"

"Wolf is her child, too, James," Peppy said after him. "Turning your back on him might be your way of punishing Maxwell, but you're punishing her too. You're making her child suffer because of a grudge that happened between you and her husband. Is that what she deserves?"

James stopped an inch outside of the automatic door. A contorting scowl unraveled below his glasses, his hand tightening into a fist.

If only Peppy hadn't said that in the scarce few seconds before he was fully out the door. Then he could've walked out, callous and uncaring, without an ounce of the guilt now locking his legs in place.

The Rabbit watched intently from behind, petrified as to whether or not his words had even left a dent…only to be surprised when James' shoulders started quaking underneath his white commando's jacket, as he drew an aggravated breath and swept off his sunglasses.

"You're not going to listen to me, no matter what I say, are you? The boy's made his way into your heart, just like every other kid does…"

He let out a long, venomous sigh without turning.

"Fine. Have it your way, then."

Peppy blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"If you're so desperate to make that kid your problem, have at it. Nurture him, be kind to him—do whatever you think you won't regret it later."

Peppy stared at him, partially relieved at the victory he had managed to salvage…but also somewhat unnerved to hear James actually agreeing with him.

In that instant, James turned his unshielded, stormy grey eyes over to him. "But mark my words: Whatever man that child becomes, whatever he grows into, it'll be on your conscience, Peppy...yours and nobody else's." He leveled a cautionary finger. "You invited this plague to our door, and you'll be responsible for everything it corrupts."

Turbulence gently rattled the glass pane. The panel lights flickered as the ship rose through the atmosphere, and the fueling shuttle assisting with its departure drifted past the viewport. Giant yellow wing blinkers shot a searing glare through the glass pane, causing hazy light to spill over the two men.

James' eyes cast a warning look. "Give it a short few years and you're going to wish you'd listened to me tonight."

Peppy watched as he slid his sunglasses back and changed direction back towards the elevator pod. As he was walked past, his voice stopped him. "James…"

The Commando Pilot's boots slid to a halt.

"All of this stays strictly between us, y'hear me?" Peppy instructed. "Maybe I can't talk you outta these obsessive suspicions, but I can keep you from dumping them on Wolf's shoulders. He's got enough on his mind, and plenty of catching up to do without you—"

"Save it." James stiffly stepped into the open elevator. "If he learns about where he really comes from, it won't be from me. You wanna keep him in the dark, go right ahead. You seem bent on pampering that kid at any cost. Even the truth."

Peppy bit back the urge to return the verbal jab, clamping it under his mouth.

"But I have one condition. For all of this."

The quieting of his tone caused Peppy's ears to perk up.

"Coddle that boy all you want, make him apart of your life…but don't ask the same from me." James glanced back without turning around, his scalding grey eyes hovering above his glasses. "Don't ever ask the same from me. Involving myself with the O'Donnell bloodline has cost me enough already."

The elevator door closed, and silence returned to the observatory, made all the louder in the silence following the eruption of raised voices. The Rabbit was left alone with the flickering ceiling panels and soft hum of the surrounding ship, along with the hollow feeling in his stomach.

---

The spaceliner's engines, now primed and fueled, ignited with a flash of green heat that sent a streak of light through the murky atmosphere. As the ship's nose lurched slowly to prepare for its ascent, different voices blared on the comm system to report and confirm on core systems on every deck.

On his way back to the passenger's quarters, Peppy was nursing the headache throbbing in his temples from yelling. Never before had he engaged in a shouting match like that with James, much less heard such callous, damning things come out of his mouth. Even now, they lingered in his ears, which only made him seethe and walk more briskly, as if to outrun them.

Then, the slide door to his cabin opened, and he was greeted by a sight that made him forget his foul mood.

Next to one of the pitch-black viewports, Wolf had succumbed to a long and exciting day, curled up on the small couch and stirring softly as he slept, with one of his ears or his tail occasionally twitching. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Peppy knelt down next to him. The knowledge of who he really was made him look down at Wolf with new eyes, and a newfound sense of warmth. Then, a terrible realization hit him; If the revelation was true, then Wolf was barely nine years old—nowhere near as young as he initially thought upon first seeing him. He was so startlingly small from years of malnourishment that Peppy had mistaken his size for being a far younger age, when in truth, he was simply half the size he should've been.

Peppy cleared away the shock washing over him, thinking firmly: He's going to have a home…a real home.

He's never going back to that life again, not if I have any say about it.

Peppy shrugged off his pilot's jacket and draped it over the boy. Wolf's eyes fluttered briefly, and then shot open. He sprang up at the sudden weight on his shoulders, fur frenzying.

"Easy, now. It's a coat, y'see?"

Blinking sleepily for a moment, Wolf looked flooded by the relief of seeing the Rabbit. "You came back!"

"'Course, I did…I said I would, didn't I?" He fastened the clasp of the jacket, which dwarfed Wolf's scrawny frame like a cloak. "There, now…isn't that better? You should be nice and snug in that. It's meant for a fat rabbit."

Wolf laughed. He hugged it around his shoulders, before his smile faded. "Um…Mister Hare? Can—?"

Peppy waved his hand kindly. "Oh no, no, bud, you don't have to call me that. We're friends, right? You can just call me Peppy…it's what everyone calls me."

"Peppy's your real name?"

"Well, the full thing is 'Pembroke'—I can thank my stuffy old dad for that." The rabbit crinkled his snout, seeming embarrassed to admit it. "Never really liked it, myself. My lady Viv always got a good chuckle out of it, though."

"Peppy…" Wolf resumed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, son," Peppy said eagerly. "I bet you've got tons of questions."

Wolf hesitated. He started shifting his weight on foot oddly, and then looked up. "Have you and James found anything out about why I was on that planet yet? Where my mom and dad are…?"

Peppy's stomach sank at the desperation in the boy's round face, dreading to impart the truth to him. Then, he closed his mouth determinedly. "…I'm afraid not, son. We ran your name into the archives, did some searchin'…but we couldn't turn over anything."

Wolf's grip tightened around the jacket. "Did you find out…why they left me there?"

"Now, hold up," he said sternly. "Don't be doin' your parents dirty like that. We don't know if you were 'left' down there. It could've been a separation, or an accident—"

Wolf silently let his eyes wander to the floor, ears drooping slightly as he looked unconvinced.

Peppy saw the dismay in his face, and quickly added: "Maybe the best thing for you right now isn't to look back, son. You were on that planet for a long time—nothin' will change that. But you're here, now, with us…and you have a ton a new things to look forward to."

Wolf looked up at him with a knifing glance, both suspicious and afraid. "What if you decide to leave me behind? What if I do something wrong? Are you going to take me back to Venom and leave me there when that happens?"

Peppy looked at him strangely. "What's gotten into you? No one's going to take you back. Where in blazes did you get that idea?"

Wolf trembled. "Right before you and Pigma left, I heard James call you on…on that wrist thing. He said that something came up, about me."

Peppy froze. He didn't think the boy had heard that.

"What's going to happen to me?" Wolf shrank inside of the coat, his distrustful voice becoming thin, on the verge of crying. "I w-won't go back to that place…y-you can't make me…"

Peppy instantly placed his hands on his shoulders. "No, no…shhh. You've got it all wrong, Wolf. That call you overheard…it was about you, but we weren't…" He paused, deciding what version of the truth to give him. "None of us were talking about abandoning you. We were just figuring out our next move. We're headin' to Corneria to report to HQ n' get our bearings. James is having a talk with the Captain now." He softened his voice for him. "No one's talking about abandoning you…I promise."

He waited for the boy to calm down, whose small hands pawed at the collar of the jacket. Wolf looked around uneasily, before venturing. "Then…why did James sound so angry when he called? Did I…do something, or say something to make him mad?"

The Rabbit's comforting smile faded for a moment. "Oh—no, son. You haven't done anything, it's just...this job just makes him a little grumpy sometimes. You shouldn't worry about it…" Glances at door, muttering inaudibly. "Believe me, if you see him angry, it's nothing that you've done…"

"Must make Pigma that way too," said Wolf. "When I was alone with him, he started yelling at someone on the deck."

Seizing the opportunity to steer his attention elsewhere, Peppy chuckled. "Well…ain't nothin' new there, just Pigma bein' his usual self. Shortest fuse you'll ever meet. All that anger and mettle was pounded into him while he was still a teenager…" He sighed knowingly. "…but that's what going through the Academy will do to you."

"That place…" Wolf's eyes sparked with new curiosity. "I heard someone else mention it before. Is that something famous around here?"

Peppy looked a bit disarmed, before sighing. "I keep forgetting how little you know, bud." He glanced at the "C" insignia on the couch. "The Cornerian Flight Academy is the place where people from all over the galaxy go to become pilots. And yeah, it's beyond famous."

"Why?" Wolf asked. "Is it the only one?"

"Oh, no," Peppy waved his hand. "Not even close. There are bunches of other flight schools on other worlds…well, all the ones that have fleets o' their own, anyway. Pretty sure that the Avian homeworld Zoness has their own school…and those ornery feline folk on Katina definitely have one."

Wolf raised a brow. "So, what makes the one on Corneria such a big deal?"

"'Cause it's the oldest out of the lot of them…and the best," Peppy said definitively. "The school teaches more than just flying—it teaches students to rely on history, logic, how to improvise, how to strategize. The Cornerians who founded it years ago didn't want just anyone to join their fleet. They wanted the best and the brightest. That's why admirals and generals have come out of that school, not just pilots. It's bone-crushingly hard, and even harder to get into. Only the best qualify...and only the best walk out."

Wolf sucked in a breath. "And Pigma went there?"

"'Course he did. Both of us did."

"How old were you?" Wolf asked, looking at him with newfound intrigue

"A few years older than you."

The boy's eyes become big. "And you got in? How?"

Peppy smiled knowingly. "...long story. Just did something to impress the folks at the Academy, I guess. Toughest thing I ever went through, that school...even more than some of my worst battles." He sighed nostalgically. "Seems like a lifetime ago. We've all changed a lot since those days..."

"What'd you guys do now?" Wolf asked eagerly. "What kind of wars do you fight?"

"Wars?" Peppy laughed. "No one's fought in a war, kid, least of all me. There hasn't been one in...gosh, I don't even know how long. Hundreds of years. Thousands."

Wolf was hit with a jolt of confusion. He looked around, eyebrows locking together. "No wars? But...then why is this fleet so huge? Why have all these pilots, or an army?" He pointed at the door. "Why does everyone talk to you and James like you've fought some kind of war? What about that scar of his?"

"He got that in a skirmish with some pirates years ago," Peppy said simply. "That's mostly what this fleet stands to do: deal with threats to Corneria's security, monitoring ship routes, that sort of thing. We've been at peace for years. Oh, sure, we've had a few rough patches here and there—" Like the cold war we're in with Katina, but I'm not about to explain that to a child, he thought. That'll take the entire voyage home. "—but a full-scale war, pullin' the whole galaxy in? Nah. We ain't had that in eons. And we ain't likely to ever have one in our lifetime, thank goodness."

Wolf frowned, his eyelids lowering disappointedly. "Well, that's boring. What do pilots do if there's no wars to fight, no problems to solve?"

Peppy smiled at his naïveté. "Not all problems come from wars, kid. Some of them spring up closer to home. A lot closer. Ones that need people like us to step in to make sure things don't escalate." He grimaced wearily, having the look of an overworked parent managing unruly children.

"Is that why you and James look so tired all the time?"

"That's part of it," Peppy admitted. "But when we have shore leave, we do something even harder...and that's the part-time we do at the Academy, instructing cadets."

"You're a Teacher?" Wolf raised his eyebrows.

"Sort of. 'Senior administrators' is what the suits up in CDF High Command would call it... Thought it'd be nice for the school's best alumni to teach the new generation of pilots." The Rabbit sighed. "Nice idea on paper, but one that leads to a tremendous lack of sleep and no spare time between missions. James n' Pigma do whatever teaching they can when they're off-duty, but they're mostly out and about, wrestlin' with the galaxy's problems. Me...well...I try to take over for them at the school where I can, but..." He laughed. "I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this."

"You'd rather be flying with them," Wolf said keenly.

Peppy glanced back at him in surprise. Those curious eyes saw a lot of subtleties. "You mean would I rather be dashin' across the galaxy, catching rogues n' pirates with the other two instead of monitoring a classroom?" His worn-out smile widened. "Nah. I only do that when I have to. Gallivanting with the Team's fine and all, but helpin' a young mind grow, watching a child find themselves...that's a worthwhile challenge." As his maroon eyes began to sparkle fondly, he turned his attention back to the boy. "That's what I'm here to talk to you about, Wolf."

Wolf's small ears perked up. "What do you mean?"

Still on one knee, Peppy lifted him up and set him on the edge of the couch, facing him at equal height. "Well, y'see…bein' part of Star Fox, I've done all kinds of things, gone on all kinds of adventures…some of them outside of the cockpit. Things like meeting my best friend and marrying her, raising a bonny baby girl…and both ended up being the greatest adventures I ever went on." His eyes saddened. "Thing is, there was one other one that my wife Viv and I always talked about doin', but she passed away before we could ever do it. But now that you're here, I've got a chance to try my hand at it…if you'll let me."

"What is it?"

"Raising a boy of my own."

The words completely disarmed Wolf, stunning him into silence. He felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and relief washing over him…one that was quickly undermined by an uncomfortable squirming in his stomach. He hadn't done anything to warrant such a kind offer—not from a complete stranger, and not in such a short amount of time.

"M-Me?" His eyes searched the Rabbit's face, wondering if it was a ruse. "You want me to stay with you?"

Peppy nodded warmly. "The others and I have talked…" Hmph, debated, more like, he mentally grumbled. "…and we've decided that the best thing for you is to take some time to get used to the world…to other people. And I'm tellin' ya, bud, my home moon Lapetus is perfect for that. Lots of countryside, plenty o' places to run n' play, the works. You'll have me to look after you, and my little Lucy too…I'm sure she won't have any trouble makin' friends with you."

In the middle of selling it as best he could, he noticed the blank expression on Wolf's face, unable to detect any concern or excitement.

Peppy frowned hesitantly. "...I hope that all sounds okay."

In reality, the more he talked about it, the better it sounded. Wolf's heart skipped; he couldn't believe how quickly his life was changing, how right everything was turning out for him. Then his expression fell nervously. "What'll happen to me after that?"

Peppy shrugged. "Anything. You can have whatever future you want."

Wolf shrank beneath his blanket of a jacket, looking out into the murky blackness outside. The world he had found so exciting just a few hours ago suddenly seemed daunting, and unpredictable…and he felt small and alien within it.

"But what if I don't know what that is yet?"

Peppy laughed. "It'll come to you, bud. You've got your whole life ahead of you to think about that." He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And I'll be there every step of the way until then. But first things first, you need to relax and have a childhood first."

A nervous smile crept onto Wolf's face. Whatever lingering uncertainties he might've had, he could count on the Rabbit's voice making him feel safe.

"What's the rest of your home like?" He asked quietly. "Is the rock softer there? Less volcanoes?"

"There aren't any volcanoes. It's nothing like Venom—it's lush and green, with forests and mountains…" Peppy assured him excitedly. "You're going to love it, bud, I'm sure of it. There's lots of places to fish, pick berries…and the sky's got a nice view of Fichina. Sure it gets kinda gray and dull during the rainy season, but it's not as bad as some folks exaggerate. The sun shines plenty, most days."

That was when Wolf stared Peppy in confusion. What he had just said came out of nowhere and hit his ears like a foreign language.

"You can…see the sun there?"

Peppy paused, realizing that the boy was looking at him like he'd suggested something as ludicrous as breathing out in space. He gave a confused glance out the window, and when it dawned upon him, his enthusiastic smile faded.

"…Oh. Well…yes, you can. I…I forgot, you..." He looked outside at the permanently cloudy and lightless Venomian atmosphere shrouding the skies below, feeling a pang of sadness in his stomach. "You have no idea what that looks like, do you?"

Wolf cocked his head up at him, ear twitching curiously.

"Well, where we're goin' you'll see plenty of daylight. That and..." He stopped mid-sentence, his drooping ears springing up and his face suddenly alight. "Wait a minute…that also means you haven't seen the nighttime sky either. You haven't, have you?"

Wolf's face was utterly blank. Before he could say or do anything, the Rabbit bolted to his feet, teeming with excitement.

"Oh. Oho, boy…you're in for a treat. What great timing, too—" He talked into his wrist-comm quickly. "Pigma, we close to leaving orbit yet?"

The Hog's voice crackled through. "Hmm? Yeah, just about. Pilot says we're making our ascent; we should be outta this tangled airspace any second now."

"Great." Peppy beckoned the boy over. "Come here, Wolf…there's something you gotta see."

Wolf, puzzled by the grown up's strange antics, joined him at the viewport. He could hear the ship's turbines humming as it continued rising higher in the dense, foggy atmosphere, leaving the planet and its undisturbed aura of stillness behind.

Peppy's whiskers twitched. "Come on, Pigma, tell them to take us up!"

"One second! Be patient, will ya? Navicomputer's still buffering. What's gotten you all excited, anyway? Think you'll see something special when we hit space?"

A smile crept on Peppy's lips, as he thought to himself: I won't.

Wolf was pressing against the glass, squinting at the dark skies for whatever the Rabbit was itching to show him, when a thunderous rattle seized the ship around them. Any previous shreds of ambience was engulfed in the deafening roar of the engines, as the craft rocketed upwards at a stomach-dropping speed, attempting to snatch escape velocity. The thinning atmosphere fought the ship's ascent in what could only be described as controlled violence, as the room began to shake and shudder violently, the hull bucking against the atmospheric pressure. The engines climbed to a high-pitched and puncturing whine, the black clouds outside the viewport streaking into thin curtains as they raced higher and faster into the thinning atmosphere. Wolf's heart leapt to his throat, and he dove under the window frame, cowering and scrunching his eyes tight.

Then the roaring and shuddering stopped. The sense of speed vanished, and instead of lurching forward, the ship's ascent smoothened out. The engines whirred back to their humming state, and all was quiet again.

Heart still racing, Wolf felt a gloved hand shake his shoulder. "It's alright. Look…"

Cautiously, Wolf raised his head to peer out the glass.

Slowly, his blank expression melted away, and his large eyes become even bigger.

Behind the glass stretched the swirling galactic canvas of Lylatian space, blanketed in silky dark matter and a curtain of something Wolf had never seen before: Stars, millions of them, stretching to all corners of his line of sight and past the galactic cluster itself. They wreathed a band of light seated in a shadowy well of blue and purple hues, some of the stars retaining a static kindle while others blinked to life sporadically.

Everything left Wolf's mind—it went blank, while the rest of him went numb. Eyes widening, he only mustered enough nerve to gingerly step towards the viewport, slipping a hand out of the oversized jacket and planting it on the glass pane. The sight of the world sprawled before him through the small window snatched the breath out of his throat. All he could do was stare open-mouthed at it, so awestruck and filled with wonder that he could barely move. He didn't know what this feeling was, this bizarre sensation of feeling impossibly small but also endlessly warm in the face of something so vast. He should've felt tiny and alone, like he often did so many times before when looking up at Venom's dark skies, but he didn't; if anything, there was a strange, enveloping comfort from how he couldn't see an end to any of it…a sea of stars that stretched on forever, gleaming serenely before him.

Wolf managed to find his voice. "This is…?"

Peppy beamed at the view. "That's the Lylat System. Ain't it something? And that's not even all of it. It goes on and on, y'know…planetary systems, cosmic clusters, nebulas and uncharted quadrants …"

He looked back at the boy, and his smile lapsed a bit. Wolf's reaction wasn't like the uncontrollable excitement he'd shown back on the Ship's Deck. He was completely rigid outside of his fingers trembling against the glass. The sight was having a different effect than Peppy had expected, making him somewhat anxious.

But unbeknownst to him, Wolf was feeling a weightless sensation pass through him. For the first time, in this fleeting, incomprehensible moment, he found himself longing for something that wasn't material, like food or someplace warm to sleep. As he stared wistfully at the visage shining between the open cracks of his fingers, he found himself longing for something far more precious…something that he didn't know how badly he wanted until now.

Peppy nudged him worryingly with his voice. "Wolf…? You alright?"

Wolf's hands and widened eyes remained locked to the viewport glass.

"I know this must be a lot to take in. You've never seen it before, it must be kind of overwhelming—"

Wolf suddenly asked: "If you're a pilot…you get to go out there? You get to fly in…all of this?"

The feeble and tepid hopefulness in his voice softened Peppy's heart. He put an encouraging hand on the boy's shoulder and stared outward with him. "That's right."

The ocean of stars before him stretching before him, almost within the reach of his fingertips, was more than the sight of space. It was a way out…like the mouth of a cave, leading to an outside world sprawling with light. It was everything he had been denied down in the confines of Venom, a place where there was no end in sight, with endless possibilities of where he could go…and what he could be.

And deep within the vast, boundless starscape, he could see it, lying in wait: the ultimate prize, something that could be mere days or long years out of reach...a destiny that he'd never stop longing for, but one he'd also stop at nothing to have one day.

Freedom.