By Gray Lancer

Authorís notes: Andross is long gone. But the Lylat system is on the brink of a very large
and very violent civil war. At first the war appears to be the result of old tensions and
resentment building up... but upon closer inspection, a deeper and far more sinister cause
is found. Something is awakening in Lylat, and it must be stopped... or esle the end may
really be coming.
 

-The Broadsword, in low orbit around Venom

        Sergeant Mark Selster, a ferret with combat-weary eyes, ran down the line of MG 5 Devastation
battle suits and checked to make sure that all the pilots were secure in their crash restraints. He saw a lot
of unfamiliar faces... he never knew anyone in the unit these days.
        It had been about a half a year ago when he realized he didnít care anymore. He used to know all
of the squadron members personally. Now he didnít give a damn who they were. He just did his job.
        Mark stopped at the end of the launch area and hit a button on a small console. The drop alert
sounded. He had used to shout out to signal the drop... and that had impressed the recruits... but that too
had gone with time.
        Why did it matter anyway? The war with Andross was over. The worst these kids were likely to
encounter would be a bunch of pirates. An MG 5 could defeat most of the pirates today without the pilot
doing anything.
        The MG 5 cockpits closed and sealed. The lighting in the drop room went red and the drop tubes
closed.
        Mark heard the sounds of a dozen MG 5 battle suits being launched out down to the surface of
Venom. The lights returned to their normal color.
        He sighed and leaned against the wall heavily. Captain Meris was taking them out herself today.
That meant he could do something he actually enjoyed.
        But the truth was, he didnít really enjoy much of anything anymore.
        Mark turned around and walked out the door, leaving the large drop room for the relatively
cramped main hallway.
        What had gone wrong? It seemed as if the war against Andross hadnít been won at all, but had
been lost. Everyone seemed to have less energy, less motivation.
        Mark had remembered his old drill sergeant saying something about victory not being victory if
your heart wasnít in it... he had never known what that had meant before now.
        He turned a corner and walked up to the main elevator. He pressed the call button and waited.
The doors opened and Mark stepped inside. He pressed the button for the crew level. Sleep sounded pretty
good right about now.

-Venom surface

        ìBy the book, people. Keep in formation and donít go wandering off on your own.î
        Captain Alison Meris did not sound enthusiastic. She sounded like this was the absolute last
thing she wanted to be doing.
        It was true. She hated these stupid training session. She muttered quietly to herself,
        ìThey stopped getting good recruits after the war with Andross was over.î
        She didnít like thinking that way, it depressed her. But it was the only thing that seemed true.
The new recruits didnít have the energy of commitment they used to. They just did what they were told
because they were told to. They wanted the ëvaluable job experienceí that the recruiters promised without
having to make a real commitment.
        It was times like these that Alison felt really stupid for not taking the offer from the Mercenariesí
Guild to go and help them with training. But even they seemed to be on hard times. The Guild hadnít
gained any new members recently. Their list of ëinactive membersí was growing steadily.
        Alison checked her threat display and looked for the target drone signals. Today they would be
simulating an ambush. At least that would be slightly interesting.
        She toggled the thermal sensors on and scanned the terrain. No visible heat spikes... the ground
was too warm to get a good reading off of it. Alison turned the thermals off and opened a com channel to
her squad,
        ìFollow my lead into the pass. Donít fall too far behind.î
        She switched the com channel off again and pushed the throttle forward. Her MG 5 accelerated.
She turned it to face the pass and engaged autopilot. The suit continued walking towards the pass under
the guidance of the navigation computer.
        Alison shook her head slowly inside the cockpit and lowered her muzzle. She was a pretty fox
who had been in the Cornerian Army ever since she had graduated from high school. She had made her
way into the armored corps out of fascination with the MG line of battle suits. She had started with the
MG 4 and switched to the MG 5 when it had come out. She had always been with the 89th Attack Squad,
the Knifeís Edge. It was only recently that the unit had been transferred to the Broadsword for training
operations.
        Alison opened a channel to her squadron,
        ìWeíre entering the pass soon. Keep your eyes on your threat display and watch for enemy
units.î
        She almost laughed out loud at her own instructions. This was ridiculous. Of course she knew
exactly what was going to happen, half the rookies probably did too. Little details like what was going to
happen on the mission tended to be passed around the squadron. By the time they actually went on the
training assignment, half the new kids knew exactly where and when the enemy would attack and what
tactics they would be using.
        Alison would try to stop that sort of thing if she cared. But the truth was that she didnít care.
This kind of practice was valuable back when there was a real war on. Now it didnít matter if they
understood tactics and strategy. It just mattered if they could point a gun and pull the trigger.
        She looked down at the threat display and checked on her own troops. They were moving in
formation as the book described it. No initiative and no real dedication. They were in this for the short
term boost. They wanted something impressive on their resumes.
        Alison shook her head and muttered to herself again,
        ìGod... and this is some of the best... Iím glad Iím not an infantry instructor.î
        The threat display showed an unknown blip. One of the rookies called Alison on the com,
        ìCaptain Meris, Iím picking up enemy units.î
        She sighed to herself and switch the com unit to squadron frequency. She spoke without any real
enthusiasm behind her voice,
        ìBreak and attack.î
        She wouldnít be part of the mock engagement... they were going to simulate failure of command
and see how the new kids reacted. Here it came.
        Alison shut her suitís power down and a blanket of silence rested on her. She breathed deeply
and sat back. She wouldnít be doing anything for the rest of the exercise. She could think a little.
        Her thoughts lingered on the past. The war... it had been long and it had been hard...
        But it had brought everyone together and made them unite against a common foe. Everyone knew
what side they were on and knew exactly what they were fighting for.
        Now it was all over. There wasnít any evil they had to unite against. The military was left with a
bloated force that it didnít need. That meant lots of pointless missions on far-off worlds that consisted
primarily of dust. That meant recruits who didnít give a damn about the old Cornerian ideals...
        And where had all the heroes gone? Star Fox... that was a name you didnít hear anymore.
Children had looked up to Star Fox during the war. Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi had been idols for
countless boys... Katt Monroe and Fara Phoenix for at least as many girls. The odd kid had looked up to
Peppy Hare, Slippy Toad, Bill Grey, or some other famous or not-so-famous person they had heard about
in one way or another.
        That had given them a set of ideals to follow. That meant that the kids who grew up in the war
werenít so bad...
        But then that had disappeared. It was an illusion. Star Fox had officially disbanded. The great
military commanders had all retired... those who hadnít been killed, anyway.
        Alison leaned back in her seat and groaned,
        ìI need a frigginí drink.î

-Mercenariesí Guild HQ, Corneria

        Brett MacDonald, the cat in charge of the Mercenariesí Guild, sat back in his chair and held up a
throwing knife. He took careful aim with the knife and flung it at the opposite wall. It stuck in point-first.
        Brettís wife and exec, Kelly MacDonald, looked up and smiled,
        ìNice toss.î
        ìYeah, just making sure Iíve still got it. We havenít seen action in months!î
        ìMmm?î
        ìYah! Look at this... we havenít even pulled an intervention op recently. Not even a lousy escort
run. Not a bloody thing!î
        Kelly shrugged and shook her head,
        ìGuess youíve got a point there. It had been a little slow.î
        ìDammit, letís get out the list again.î
        Kelly frowned. The list was a piece of paper on which they listed the Guild core staff. They only
took it out when there were changes in membership or in the status of members.
        She reached into her jacket and produced the piece of paper. She set it down on the desk in front
of Brett and took a seat on her husbandís lap. He smiled and held her in his arms. She looked at him and
frowned again,
        ìWhy?î
        ìBecause thereís some changes to be made...î
        Brett pulled out a pen and looked at the piece of paper. He shook his head and crossed out some
writing,
        ìGray and Mira Lancer are both inactive. Technically theyíre Guild members... but they havenít
even come to a meeting in months.î
        Kelly punched Brett lightly on the shoulder and smiled,
        ìThatís cause theyíve got a daughter, stupid. Remember, Fenica Lancer? The little kit? You saw
her a few days after she was born.î
        Brett grinned and spoke in a joking tone,
        ìOh, Iíd completely forgotten about that.î
        He reached down again and crossed a name out completely,
        ìOur procurement head Allais has said that she will not continue on with the Guild for personal
reasons. She came to me yesterday in tears.î
        ìWhat?î
        ìAndross killed her entire family. I think that now that heís gone... she doesnít have anything
left to hate... nothing to keep her going... no prospects of revenge. Sheís only got grief and a life torn to
shreds by the war. Sheís leaving and I wonít try to stop her.î
        He crossed another name out. Kelly looked down,
        ìNeefa Sarahis? Why her?î
        ìRemember that her fiancee Lark Seervis was killed a few months ago in a fire fight with those
pirates?î
        ìYeah... she was pretty broken up about that... they were always so close...î
        Brett nodded and looked down. He did not look happy,
        ìMore broken up than youíd think. She shot herself last night. One shot, modified Cornerian
Military laser pistol. Mustíve been instant.î
        ìOh god... why?î
        ìI donít know. Maybe it shouldnít have ever ended.î
        ìWhat?î
        ìThe war, you know that. Here we are, over a half a decade after the war against Andross and the
whole system is going straight down the hole. Dammit, look at the statistics... look at our guild!î
        He pointed at the list and continued,
        ìWe lost one member to suicide, two left to raise their family, one broke down and quit outright...
Iíd give her another month before she wastes herself... hereís some more interesting reading.î
        He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a thick file folder. He placed in front of Kelly. She
squinted at the folder,
        ìWhat is it?î
        ìThese are the bios of every Guild member and Cornerian Military staff member lost to suicide.
Neefaís name is right on top.î
        Kelly stared at the folder. Brett shook his head sadly,
        ìItís no good. The overall suicide rate for Lylat has skyrocketed. Morale of the everyday citizen
has dropped through the floor. Nobody wants to live in Lylat, so theyíre giving death a try.î
        Tears began to well up in Kellyís eyes,
        ìI... knew... Neefa... since junior high... we were really... good friends...î
        Kelly began crying,
        ìH...h...how c...could th...this h...h...happen?î
        Brett didnít answer. Instead, he just held on to his wife.

-The Broadsword, in orbit around Venom

        Mark Selster sat by himself at one of the tables in the Broadswordís small observation deck and
bar. He had a drink that he had barely touched sitting in front of him
        He heard the voice of Alison Meris above him,
        ìMind if I join you?î
        Mark looked up and managed a small smile,
        ìNo. Sit down.î
        Alison pulled up a chair and sat across from Mark. She shook her head,
        ìYouíre losing your edge.î
        He almost laughed,
        ìYeah right, I lost my edge a long time ago. I hate taking these new kids out. Theyíre all so...
so...î
        ìSpiritless?î
        The ferret nodded,
        ìThatís exactly what I mean. They donít seem to give a damn about what theyíre supposed to be
fighting for.î
        ìFighting? None of them are fighting for anything. As much as we hate to admit it... the war is
over... it has been for a long time.î
        ìI know... I know...î
        He raised his glass to his lips and took a slow sip. Alison lowered her head and sighed wearily,
        ìJust taking the little freaks out is so much work now.î
        Mark raised an eyebrow,
        ìFreaks? Since when did they become freaks?î
        ìSince the last one with any enthusiasm got killed or went on to a new position.î
        ìGood point... itís getting so damn bad recently.î
        ìYou know what, I heard the whole system is like this.î
        Mark put his glass down. He crossed his arms and sat back,
        ìYeah right.î
        ìNo kidding. They say the suicide rate is over triple that of one year ago.î
        ìHoly crap. Is it that bad out there?î
        ìThatís the whole thing! Itís not bad at all... in fact, the standard of living has never been
higher... but... I donít know what it is... everyone seems drained. Itís like we won over Andross but we
really lost.î
        Mark nodded slowly. He felt the same way every single morning when he woke up.
        A recruit walked up to their table and smiled. Neither of the two returned the smile. The recruit
looked at Mark and spoke,
        ìSir, I heard that you were in the battle of Yahnaís Peak, can you tell me about it.î
        A fire burned in Sergeant Mark Selsterís eyes. He slid his glass away and slowly pushed his chair
out. The smile vanished from the recruitís face. Mark walked up to him and looked straight in his eyes.
the kid was quivering with terror by now. Make spoke in a low growl,
        ìHow many really good friends do you have, son?î
        ìS...sir?î
        ìAnswer the question.î
        ìUh...uh... maybe... uh... ten really good ones, sir?î
        ìCan you imagine losing all of them in under an hour?î
        ìS...s...sir?î
        ìSon. You are going to come with me and see something. Captain Meris, I would like you to
accompany us.î
        Alison nodded,
        ìSure thing. Where we going?î
        ìTo visit Darus.î
        Alisonís eyes opened wide and she stared at Mark,
        ìTh...the broken one?î
        Mark nodded and glared at the recruit,
        ìSon, youíre going to see what war can do.î
        Alison nodded slowly,
        ìIíll arrange it.î

-Crew Section 12B, the Broadsword

        Hardly anyone ever ventured into Crew Section 12B, deep inside the Broadsword. Certainly no
one stayed for any longer than they absolutely had to.
        Because inside Crew Section 12B was the darkest secret of the 89th Attack Squad.
        The door to the section slid open and the three visitors stepped inside. Mark led the way,
followed by Alison and the recruit. The inside of the crew section was almost completely dark. The recruit
looked around nervously. Mark called into the darkness,
        ìDarus, itís Mark. Remember me?î
        A strange-sounding voice came out of the darkness. It was harsh and had a mechanical ring to it,
        ìWhy do you disturb me... who is with you?î
        ìA friend and someone who needs to be shown the truth about war.î
        ìWhy... must you?î
        Mark nodded his head, thought the gesture was almost invisible,
        ìYes, I must.î
        ìOf course.î
        The lights in the room gradually went up. They stopped at a level that was dim but bright enough
to see around. The recruit looked around the room frantically.
        His eyes settled on the most disturbing sight in the whole room.
        In the center, on a metal chair, sat what used to be a handsome male fox. The left side of his head
was covered in metal, as was much of his body. His right eye remained but showed little of the fire it had
obviously once held. His left ear was missing. His arms and legs, which remained motionless, were made
of metal. Wires and cables connected the fox to various consoles and jacks around the room. The fox
raised his head and groaned.
        The recruit stared at the fox in horror. Mark smiled grimly,
        ìThis is Darus... the broken one. He is one of the survivors of the old 43rd Guard. He is the only
survivor. The only reason he lives now is because the military needs his knowledge of certain systems. As
a ëfavorí they are keeping him alive indefinitely.î
        Darus groaned,
        ì...and they call this living hell a life...î
        He went silent and dropped his head. He looked like he was in constant pain. Mark walked over
to the recruit and grabbed his collar,
        ìLook at that! Look very closely and remember everything you see there! That is what war was!
THAT! There are some things that should not be talked about. Do you understand?î
        The recruit nodded. He looked utterly terrified. He looked at Darus and the fox raised his head.
The recruit saw the expression of the fox and saw why he had earned the nickname ëthe broken one.í
        Mark grabbed the recruit and pushed him towards the door. The recruit stumbled out. Mark went
after him, followed by Alison. He shut the lights back down and closed the door. He looked directly at the
recruit,
        ìGo back upstairs and never ask me about any of that stuff again.î
        The recruit nodded frantically and ran to the ladder leading back up. Alison shuddered,
        ìI hate it every time I see Darus. But this time, didnít he strike you as seeming a little... different
than normal.î
        Mark nodded,
        ìYes. You could see something different in his eyes.î
        ìHe knows something.î
        ìWhat?î
        ìHe knows something. Iíve always heard about premonitions and telepathy and all that stuff.
Well... I think that Darus knows something that he doesnít want us to know... and I think it scares him a
whole lot.î
        ìScares Darus? Nothing scares Darus... he doesnít really feel emotions.î
        Alison frowned and shook her head,
        ìNo... thatís what it was that was odd in his eyes... heís afraid of something. Very afraid. Deathly
afraid. And did you see his eye right before we shut off the light?î
        ìNot really.î
        ìHe looked downright terrified. As if he was afraid of being left in the dark...î
        ìDarus? Afraid of the dark? You wouldnít think heíd care.î
        ìI donít think heís afraid of the dark... I think heís afraid of whatís hidden by the dark.î

-Tyrenís Isle, Aquas

        Gray Lancer leaned back in the lounge chair he was sitting in and groaned. It had been a long
day. A very long day. Now it was finally all over. A chance to sit back and relax... or so he thought.
        He could hear his daughter Fenica... who was only two, wandering around inside the hotel suite
that they were staying in. Grayís wife, Mira, was inside trying to keep the kit out of harmís way.
        It was no easy task. Fenica seemed to have acquired her parentsí ability to get into the oddest of
situations and places. Gray heard something fall to the floor inside and heard Fenica giggle. Mira groaned
loudly and shouted out to Gray,
        ìDear... get inside and help me control our daughter before she destroys this place!î
        Gray smiled to himself and got up slowly. Having a room on the top of the hotel was nice because
of the view... but it also meant that Gray and Mira had to stop Fenica from falling over the edge.
        Gray walked slid the screen door dividing the porch of the hotel room from the room itself. He
stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Fenica looked up and spoke ,
        ìDaddy! You back!î
        She ran up to her father and grabbed on to his leg. Mira smirked at Gray as he tried to pry his
daughter off of his leg,
        ìSheís been looking around the hotel room.î
        Gray nodded understandingly,
        ìWhat fell over?î
        ìOh, that was one of the books the hotel is kind enough to supply. No harm done.î
        Fenica looked up at Gray and grinned broadly. He smiled and patted her head as he continued to
pull her off his leg. Mira walked over to chair and sat down heavily. She sighed,
        ìTaking a two-year-old to see the age-appropriate sights is a little more difficult than it first
sounds.î
        Gray finally finished getting Fenica off his leg. He nodded and sat down as well. Fenica dashed
off. Gray looked at Mira,
        ìYou think we should go catch her?î
        ìNah, sheíll be fine. As long as she doesnít go onto the porch thereís not much chance she can
kill herself.î
        Gray laughed,
        ìYeah. So, do you think it was a good idea to come here?î
        ìYes. We need the vacation. Corneria City is getting downright depressing.î
        ìWhyís that?î
        ìI donít really know. It all seems so hostile now. Nobody cares about what we fought for in the
war against Andross. Itís just that the ëkill or be killedí attitude isnít great for a kit.î
        ìNo kidding. Speaking of which... where has Fenica got to?î
        They heard the sound of a toilet flushing. Both looked at each other and said the same thing,
        ìThe bathroom.î
        They got up and walked down to the small bathroom. Inside Fenica was looking down into the
toilet with her paw on the handle. Mira walked up to her and picked her up. Fenica giggled and pointed at
the toilet,
        ìI made it go down!î
        Mira glanced at Gray,
        ìWhatís she talking about?î
        Gray looked around the bathroom and finally spoke,
        ìI canít find the soap.î
        They both looked at the toilet. Fenica grinned. Gray shook his head and looked down at his
watch,
        ìItís bedtime. Fenica, you should know better than to flush the soap down the toilet.î
        Fenica answered earnestly,
        ìI was jusí seeing whaí would happen.î
        Mira smiled and held Fenica in her arms,
        ìYes, well now itís time for you to see what happens when you fall asleep.î
        Fenica shook her head,
        ìNo, ëm not sleepy.î
        Gray smiled. The little vixen had been all over the city today thanks to the miracle of inter-city
transit systems. There were two bedrooms in the suite... one which doubled as the main room. That was
the one that Gray and Mira slept in. Fenica slept in the other room, within easy shouting distance if she
needed her parents for any reason.
        By the time they had entered the room, Fenica was already asleep in Miraís arms. Gray pulled
back the covers on the bed and Mira set Fenica down on it. They pulled the covers back and tucked their
daughter in. She twitched slightly but didnít wake up. Gray and Mira kissed their daughter good-night
and went out of the room, turning off the lights and closing the door softly.
        The went back into the main room and sat down. Mira reached out and held Grayís paw,
        ìWe didnít know what we were getting into when we had a kit.î
        Gray nodded, smiled, and leaned back.
        They heard a knock at the door to their room. Gray quickly stood up and walked to the door. He
opened it and saw no one on the other side. He was about to turn around and head back inside when he
saw something on the ground in front of the door.
        It was a thick file folder filled with papers. On it was a hand-written note:

        Gray and Mira... what do you think we should do about this?
           &nb sp;    -Brett MacDonald

        Gray picked up the folder and closed the door. He walked back to his chair and sat down. Mira
saw the file folder,
        ìWhatís that?î
        Gray had been flipping through the folder,
        ìSomething very depressing...î
        ìWhat?î
        ìItís a list of everyone in the Cornerian Military or the Mercenariesí Guild who has killed
themselves... in the past couple years...î
        ìWho sent it?î
        ìBrett MacDonald. I think itís time we had a little chat with him.î

-Southview cafe, Tyrenís Isle, Aquas

        Gray and Mira Lancer sat together at the table they had agreed to meet Brett at. Fenica was
sitting still for once and looking at the people passing outside. She seemed occupied but both her parents
kept an eye on her just in case.
        Mira looked towards the entrance of the cafe. She saw Brett MacDonald and his wife Kelly
entering. She leaned over and tapped Grayís shoulder,
        ìHere they are.î
        Gray nodded. Brett came up to their table and nodded to the two foxes and their daughter,
        ìHi. Havenít seen you guys in a while. Man, your daughter was only just born the last time I saw
her...î
        He knelt down next to Fenica and smiled,
        ìHow you doing?î
        Fenica giggled and poked Brett in the nose,
        ìPoke.î
        She giggled again. Brett put on a look of injured dignity and stood up again. He smiled and sat
down. Kelly pulled up another chair and sat next to him. Gray looked at Brett and spoke,
        ìWhy did you send me that?î
        Brettís smile vanished and he instantly turned serious,
        ìGray, the Lylat system is in the crapper.î
        ìWhat?î
        ìCome on, even you two... with your daughter to keep you busy... know it. The Lylat system is in
its worse shape ever. Civilian and military morale is gone. Nobody seems to know why they keep on
living. I donít know what it is... a loss of purpose, maybe?î
        ìBut why? People have gone thousands upon thousands of years in mundane and peaceful
existence. Why does it matter now?î
        Brett threw up his arms,
        ìThatís exactly why itís so unusual! Theyíve got no particular reason to feel this way... well, the
military kind of does... but thatís about it.î
        ìSo why am I here talking to you?î
        ìWell... I want you and Mira to help me out.î
        Gray pointed at Fenica, who was playing with a straw. Brett winced,
        ìYeah, I know, I know. The thing is... I really need your help on this one. Is it possible for me
and Kelly to take care of your daughter?î
        Gray smiled,
        ìYes. She likes you well enough. But I warn you, she can be a pawful.î
        ìI figured as much. Weíll do our best.î
        Gray nodded and remained silent. Mira spoke,
        ìWhat are we actually going to be doing?î
        ìYou are going to blend in. You are going to go everywhere and find out why the hell the system
is in such bad shape. I donít expect you to do anything to fix it... I just want to know why.î
        Mira stared at Brett,
        ìYou just asked us to do one of the more impossible things in existence.î
        ìI know that. Itís just... well... Iíve got some weird feelings about this whole thing.î
        Gray shook his head,
        ìWeird feelings now? Well, alright. Weíll do it. Just give us one day to pack and get Fenica ready
to stay... where the hell is she going to be staying?î
        ìKelly and I have a place in the Cornerian countryside. Itíll be good for her to get away from the
city for a while.î
        ìOk. Did you hear that, Fenica? Your gonna be staying with uncle Brett and aunt Kelly for a
while.î
        Fenica smiled,
        ìYer funny, ëncle Brett.î
        Brett cocked his head,
        ìUh... thanks, I guess.î
        They all got to their footpaws. Mira took Fenicaís hand and they began walking out. Brett hung
back and motioned to Gray to come. Gray walked over. Brett spoke very softly to Gray,
        ìIím warning you that this whole thing feels very wrong.î
        ìWhat do you mean?î
        ìGray, remember your damn special forces gut instinct. Stop ignoring your hunches! You can
feel it too... something is wrong when the morale of an entire system collectively drops through the floor.
When youíre looking into this, I want you to check for any possible patterns or trends... ANY. I donít care
how obscure they may seem... something is going on and I want to know what.î
        Gray nodded and turned around and walked up to his wife. Together they left the cafe and
walked onto the sunny streets of Tyrenís Isle. Brett shook his head and muttered to himself,
        ìI donít like this any more than you do, Gray. Believe me... I donít like it one bit more.î

-Corneria City

        Fenica had been left with Brett and Kelly and had already begun to find the most effective way to
destroy their house.
        That left Gray and Mira to carry out their rather unusual assignment. They would begin on
Corneria and do a little poking around. That meant they could stay the night at their apartment and begin
the next morning.
        The apartment was located far above the streets of Corneria City, in one of the new buildings. It
was a big apartment, but all on one level.
        Mira stood on the porch outside with her nightgown on. Gray walked outside and hugged his
wife,
        ìWhat are thinking about.î
        ìActually... I was just wondering where all the survivors of the war got to.î
        ìWhazzat?î
        ìWell... the last time we saw Fox McCloud and Fara Phoenix-McCloud... or even heard about
them... was back when we fought Sevantra. We havenít heard any news about any of the others... which
means that they havenít died either.î
        ìGood point. Very good point. Maybe Brett was right.î
        Mira looked up at Gray,
        ìAbout what?î
        ìOh... I forgot that he hasnít told you. Well I will... he talked to me when we were leaving
yesterday. He said that it feels like something really big is happening. He told me to check for any patterns
of anything like that.î
        ìWeíll worry about it tomorrow. Letís go to bed.î
        ìGood idea.î
        They kissed and stepped back inside the apartment.

-The Far-Runner, in transit from Katina to Papetoon

        Fox McCloud twitched in his sleep. He was dreaming. He had been through a strange day.
Earlier someone had come up to him and tapped him on the shoulder and said something. It had just been
four words... ëyou donít even know.í But Fox couldnít get them out of his head. They seemed terribly
important for some reason.
        His dreams werenít completely formed. Brief flashes of images from his past... from his present...
and those that seemed to have no connection to any of his memories but did seem connected to him. The
future?
        He saw Fara, his wife. No... not Fara... but it did look like her... almost. The vixen he saw in his
dreams was a little different. She had silver hair and brown fur... and she was wearing a dark tan robe.
She had a large sword strapped to her back.
        She looked impressive... but sad.
        The image resolved itself into a remarkable clarity. The vixen was standing on a broad green
field. She was crying and hanging her head. The view shifted to show a different angle. Fox saw that the
vixen was standing above a field that was covered with the dead and dying. The remains of some horrible
battle?
        Someone else approached the scene. It was a fox dressed in similar robe to the vixen and also had
a sword on. He put his arms around the vixenís shoulders and spoke softly,
        ìWill it happen again?î
        She sniffled and nodded,
        ìIt will. Someday.î
        The dream faded and Fox woke with a start. He looked next to him in the small bed and saw
Fara, peacefully sleeping. Fox breathed deeply.
        It was just a dream. Nothing more than that.
        Or was it? So vivid... so real.
        He and Fara were going to Papetoon for a short visit. Fox had lived on Papetoon at the very
beginning of the war with Andross. He felt like returning for a short visit.
        After the war, Fox had been a Cornerian hero. They had turned his old den into a blasted
museum! Then, a couple years ago, the museum had gone completely under and Foxís den was
abandoned. He hadnít been back yet and intended to see it again.
        The Far-Runner, a fairly large passenger ship, had its own day and night cycle, which was
sometimes adhered to be its passengers. Fox and Fara had decided theyíd rather get a little sleep than
socialize with some of the most depressing and boring people theyíd ever met.
        Fox stared up at the ceiling and kept thinking. This was no way to get back to sleep. Oh well.
        He got the unshakable feeling that the dream meant something. Something undeniably important.
Fox looked at the ceiling and spoke as if expecting an answer,
        ìWhy does it always have to be me?î
        No answer came, which actually surprised Fox. Heíd been through some pretty weird stuff in the
past five years... a ceiling talking to him would seem downright normal.
        Fara rolled over in her sleep and bumped into Fox. He put his arms around her and she smiled,
still asleep. Fox spoke to her softly, trying not to wake her,
        ìAt least youíre having good dreams.î

-The Broadsword, in orbit around Venom

        ìSergeant, do you know whatís wrong with Darus?î
        Commander Akarisí question surprised Mark Selster a little. Akaris was a no-nonsense fisher
with a black mechanical right arm. He had lost his original arm in the war against Andross, in a power
suit fight. He was a veteran who had trained in the old MG 3 and had won more medals than most
thought possible.
        ìSergeant? Are you listening? I asked you a question.î
        ìSorry, sir.î
        ìSo what is wrong with Darus?î
        ìSir?î
        ìHe refuses to give his usual technical and tactical advice. More than that, he wonít shut up.
Look at this, itís a transcript of some of what heís been saying.î
        Commander Akaris handed Mark several sheets of paper. Mark glanced at one of the sheets:

        Do you see them?
        No? You donít? Canít you see them?
        Theyíre here, you see. Here inside... and outside...
        Theyíre not quite through yet, but they will be soon.
        Canít you see them?
        Theyíre not like us... theyíre different... better...

        Mark looked up,
        ìThis is pretty much all the same. What the hell is Darus talking about?î
        ìThatís what Iíd like you to answer.î
        ìWell... I donít really know.î
        ìCome on, I know you went down to visit him yesterday. Did anything about him seem a little
unusual?î
        ìDarus always seems unusual. But if you mean not like Darus is normally, the no. He seemed
about the same as he always was.î
        ìRight. Well, thanks anyway. Youíre dismissed.î
        Mark saluted and walked away from the commander. Something was seriously wrong with Darus
and he needed to know what. Did this have something to do with the look on Darusí face the other day...
that look of sheer terror at being left alone in the dark.
        He knew that heíd better have a talk with Captain Meris. He knew exactly where she would be.

        Alison Meris was standing on the observation deck and staring out at the stars. She heard
someone coming up behind her and looked at the reflection in the window,
        ìHi Mark. I love how you can see the planet below and the stars above. It gives you such a nice
feeling of detachment.î
        Mark stood next to her. He also looked out at the stars and spoke to Alison without turning his
head,
        ìWe need to talk about Darus.î
        ìWhy? We showed the recruit and thatís the end of it, right?î
        ìNo. Darus is acting really weird.î
        ìDarus isnít exactly a model of normality and sanity.î
        ìWeird for him. Heís ranting on about how ëtheyí are coming through. He keeps going on about
that without giving any of his normal advice. He hasnít even asked the command staff to kill him. Not
even once, and he usually does that once or twice when theyíre consulting him just to check.
        ìWhat the hell is he talking about?î
        ìI donít know. But remember his face. He was really afraid of something. Maybe that something
is the mysterious ëthey.íî
        Alison nodded,
        ìI wouldnít rule it out. So heís taken to illogical and irrational fears now?î
        ìMaybe... but Darus always seemed pretty realistic. Heís completely shattered, fear included.
What does someone who wants us to kill him have to be afraid of?î
        Alison seemed about to reply but stopped to think. Her expression changed. She looked genuinely
worried now,
        ìThatís a pretty good question. Maybe we should talk to Darus again.î
        ìNot a bad idea. But I think that theyíll have people guarding him now that heís starting those
damn messages.î
        ìTheyíll take the guards out for dead time and we can slip in.î
        Dead time was when non-critical systems were shut down for system checks. In a status of peace,
which they were at, dead time lasted twenty minutes. During dead time, all crew who werenít running
checks were supposed to be in quarters. The only exception was when there were actual prisoners. If
someone was in the brig, guards would remain and the brig would remain under full power.
        But Darus wasnít considered a prisoner. The guards would be pulled for dead time. Mark smiled,
        ìClever. Letís give it a shot. We can probably slip away without anyone noticing. The recruits
donít like to associate with us and we donít have a shift until tomorrow afternoon.î

-Office of Public Relations, Corneria City

        Tim Banaway looked down at a series of charts and graphs that one of his field agents had placed
in front of him. This was not good. The Office of Public Relations was a busy place, they needed to make
sure that the people of Lylat stayed happy. Their job was keeping everyone loyal to the government of
Lylat.
        Tim looked up at the agent and grimaced.
        ìThis is perfectly accurate info, isnít it.î
        The agent only nodded. Tim winced,
        ìGood lord. This is the worst public approval and general morale rating Iíve ever seen. People
were happier with Andross up their butts.î
        ìShould I file this?î
        ìNo, good lord, keep the thing out here. Hey, you...î
        He motioned to a member of the staff who was floating around nearby. The staff member walked
up and nodded. Tim pointed at the charts,
        ìGet copies of these made, get them on every computer in this damn building.î
        The staff member nodded and walked off. The agent gaped,
        ìSir, what the hell are you doing? Itís just a PAGMR report!î
        ìListen, son, do you know what our job is?î
        ìUh... to observe the views and status of the Cornerian people and... um... protect their rights?î
        ìAND we have another duty to the Cornerian government... to PREVENT CIVIL WAR! Look at
your own damn charts, the Cornerian people are NOT happy! If this continues, weíre looking at people
versus the government. That would be a very messy fight.î
        ìWell, what do we do about it?î
        ìIím giving you a team. I want you to run another survey... find out WHY the morale of our
people is so low, and find out how to bring it back up before they turn on their government.î
        ìYes, sir.î
        The agent was gone, leaving the charts and graphs. Tim leaned over and flicked his tail. It was
going to be a very very long week.

-Crew Section 12B, the Broadsword

        The lights flicked on inside the room that held Darus. His one remaining eye went wide with
fear.
        Mark narrowed his eyes and looked straight at Darus,
        ìWhy are you giving command all that crap over the com channels?î
        ìBecause it is true.î
        ìYou lie.î
        Mark walked up to Darus. The fox ripped his arm away from the cables attached to it and
grabbed Markís shirt with his metallic arm,
        ìI canít lie, remember.î
        ìYou canít lie knowingly. I think that youíre mistaken.î
        Darus made a strange sound. Alison and Mark realized it was laugher. Darus let go of Markís
shirt and grabbed his arm. The grip was uncomfortably strong. Darus glared at Mark,
        ìI know I am not mistaken. I speak the truth, you would be unwise to ignore it.î
        Mark shook his head,
        ìAnd how do you know that this ëtheyí is coming through. Through what, anyway?î
        Darus looked around nervously and spoke in a quiet voice to Mark,
        ìNot so loud. They may hear us. They are coming through to this world.î
        ìFrom where.î
        ìQuiet! From their own world. Iíve said enough. We shouldnít risk them hearing us.î
        Alison walked up and tapped Mark on the shoulder,
        ìWe should get going, weíve got to get back to our quarters before dead time is over.î
        Mark nodded. Darus released his grip. The ferret and vixen turned around and left the room,
turning off the lights and closing the door behind them. Mark turned to Alison,
        ìThis is getting way too weird.î
        ìNo kidding. Letís get back to quarters before someone catches us out during dead time.î

-The Far-Runner, in orbit around Papetoon

        Fox McCloud and Fara Phoenix-McCloud stood waiting for the shuttle which would take them to
the planet below. The Far-Runner wasnít landing on Papetoon so they had shuttles running down.
        Fox and Fara held their small amount of luggage. They tried to travel light. Fara smiled at Fox,
        ìIt we had taken our Arwings, we wouldnít have to wait.î
        ìIf we had taken our Arwings, we would have to sit inside tiny little cockpits and do all the work
ourselves.î
        ìGood point. Maybe we should invest in a larger ship. An H-Class Repulsor or something.î
        ìNah, I like the Arwings.î
        ìItís kind of funny.î
        ìWhat?î
        ìThe Arwing isnít really top technology anymore. Ours are modified, which puts them above the
rest, but the ship itself is getting pretty old. The new F-103s and AR-39s are the top level fighters now.î
        Fox nodded. A loudspeaker announced that the shuttle down to the Papetoon spaceport was here.
Fox and Fara walked towards the airlock which lead to the shuttle. Fox looked over at Fara and spoke as if
suddenly remembering something,
        ìI had our Arwings transferred to the spaceport.î
        Fara giggled,
        ìI had a feeling youíd do something like that. Thanks!î
        She hugged Fox and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled and returned the hug. They boarded the
shuttle and found seats.
        The captain went through the standard safety precautions, which Fox and Fara did not listen to.
They had both been through a lot of combat and certainly knew the safety precautions for a small local
shuttle. They fastened their crash restraints and sat back as the shuttle pulled out of the dock on the Far-
Runner and into space. Fara looked out the window to the planet below,
        ìHavenít been here in a long time.î
        Fox nodded,
        ìYeah. I donít think Iíve been inside my old den since the beginning of the war.î
        ìSame here.î
        Fara giggled. That den was probably the first place where the realized how much they really
meant to each other. Fox smiled at her,
        ìWell, I hope itís not caved in or anything. I wonder if those museum people left anything.î
        Fara shrugged and continued looking out the window. The planet was growing closer.
        Something caught her eye coming up to the ship. She looked closer and saw a small ship flying
into formation with the shuttle. She poked Fox and he turned. She pointed at the ship,
        ìWhat do you think that thing is?î
        ìI donít know... but I donít think this is a good thing.î
        The captainís voice came over the intercom to the shuttleís cabin,
        ìPlease remain seated, there is a small problem with local spaceways authorities that needs to be
worked out. Please remain calm, this wonít take long.î
        Fox looked over at Fara and nodded. They undid their crash restraints and got up. They made
their way to the pilotís area. They entered and the co-pilot looked up at them,
        ìHey, you canít come in here.î
        Fox snarled,
        ìShut up. Weíve both got lots of combat hours and are veterans of the war.î
        ìWhich war?î
        Fox growled,
        ìI can tell you werenít in it.î
        The war against Andross was the only war to anyone who had ever been a part of it. Referring to
ëthe warí to a veteran inevitably told them what you were talking about. The co-pilot spoke again,
        ìJust go back to your seats.î
        The pilot, who had been talking on the com unit, turned away briefly and spoke,
        ìLieutenant Robertson, go back into the cabin and find a seat. These two are staying, youíre not.î
        The co-pilot frowned but finally nodded. He stood up and left the cabin. The pilot motioned for
the two foxes to take seats. Fox sat in the co-pilotís seat, Fara took the empty seat used by the systems
officer. The pilot looked at the two foxes and smiled,
        ìCaptain Paul Karnov, 92nd Interception, based on Katina. Who are you two... wait a minute...
youíre Fox McCloud arenít you?î
        Fox nodded. The captain smiled,
        ìThen this must be Fara Phoenix.î
        Fara corrected him,
        ìPhoenix-McCloud.î
        The captain smiled again,
        ìGo figure. Pleased to meet you both in person. Sorry about my co-pilot. He didnít even go
through the military academy.î
        Fox nodded,
        ìWhatís the problem?î
        ìOh, sorry. Well... the Papetoon Independent Defense Force is hovering around this ship.î
        Fara stared at the captain,
        ìThe PIDF? They havenít existed since Andross held Papetoon!î
        ìYeah, well theyíre apparently back. There are six PIDF I-31s flying around us.î
        Fox groaned,
        ìUgh... does this thing have a threat display?î
        The captain laughed,
        ìSorry, youíve got it confused with a good ship. The best I can do is a pretty bad tracking radar.î
        ìItíll have to do. Letís see.î
        The captain pushed a few buttons and the radar appeared in the corner of the main screen.
Several blips were moving around the shuttle. Fara nodded,
        ìThose must be the PIDF ships. Do you have communication with them.î
        ìYeah, Iíll put the leader on.î
        He hit a button and the com unit crackled. Fox spoke into the com,
        ìHello, is this the PIDF forces.î
        ìYes. This is Archangel lead. Who the hell is speaking?î
        ìThis is Fox McCloud.î
        The PIDF pilot was silent for a moment. Then he spoke,
        ìAre you going to Papetoon?î
        ìYes. My wife, Fara, and I are headed there. Weíve got our ships planetside.î
        ìIíll let this ship go if you agree to meet with us at a location of our choosing.î
        ìFine. Where?î
        ìThe castle of the hero.î
        ìWhat? Oh... I see. Right, when?î
        ìHeroís light begins to shine.î
        ìHuh... oh yeah... gotcha.î
        ìThat is all.î
        The com shut down. The blips on the radar moved quickly away from the shuttle. The pilot
sighed with relief,
        ìThank god thatís over with. Do you actually know what this guyís talking about?î
        ìYes.î
        The pilot nodded and turned to shuttle back on to its course. Fox and Fara made their way back
into the cabin and sat down again. Fox leaned over and whispered to Fara,
        ìI think that the PIDF pilot knows me pretty well. Whoever he is, weíre meeting him at my old
den tomorrow afternoon.î
        Fara giggled. Fox glared at her,
        ìWhatís so funny?î
        ìYou keep calling the pilot a ëhe.íî
        ìSo?î
        ìDidnít you listen to the voice?î
        ìKind of... I was more interested in what they were saying than how the voice sounded.î
        Fara giggled again,
        ìI was listening to the voice. I think itís a ëshe.í She sounded female anyhow.î
        Fox nodded,
        ìYouíre probably right about that. Ok, weíre meeting HER at my den tomorrow afternoon. I
wonder what she wants.î
        Fara shrugged,
        ìWeíll find out tomorrow afternoon.î

-The Point of Impact, Corneria City

        Gray and Mira Lancer entered the Point of Impact, a veteransí bar deep in the bad parts of
Corneria City, and it brought memories rushing back to them. They had both been in their share of these
places, together, on business. They knew how to handle themselves.
        But this was going to be a little bit trickier than usual. They needed to get information.
Information that was of a very different kind than the usual.
        Gray leaned over to Mira and spoke in a whisper,
        ìWhat are you carrying?î
        She whispered back,
        ìA heavy Cornerian Special Forces plasma pistol and a CSF combat knife, you?î
        ìA .45 semi-auto kinetic loaded with hollow points, a modified CSF laser pistol, and two CSF
combat knives.î
        ìCrap! What are you expecting, a war?î
        ìThatís not far from wrong.î
        They walked up to a table of veterans sitting around and talking and sat down. One of the
veterans, a large tiger with a an eyepatch, growled at them,
        ìHey, you freakiní civies, get the hell out.î
        Gray narrowed his eyes,
        ìWho said we were civies, idiot.î
        He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a tattoo showing a combat knife with barbed wire coiled
around it,
        ì17th Cornerian Army special ops!î
        Gray smiled,
        ì12th Commandos, Cornerian Special Forces. Worked the rest of the war as a merc. You army
wusses have nothing on us.î
        The tiger snarled and leapt at Gray. Gray pushed back in his chair and fell back. The tiger went
over his head and Gray jumped to his footpaws. He jumped over to the tiger and planet his footpaw
squarely on the tigerís windpipe. He pressed down hard,
        ìListen, crap hole. Iíve got more training and probably more field experience than you... I know
you think youíre all tough cause you lost an eye, but there are more painful, less disabling things that can
happen. Like me half-crushing your windpipe. Youíll live and be fine... but itíll hurt to breath, swallow,
talk, or move for about two months. Want any?î
        The tiger choked out his response,
        ìN...n...no.î
        ìGood.î
        Gray took his footpaw off the tigerís windpipe. The tiger got up and scrambled out the door. Gray
took his seat again. A pitbull wearing a Cornerian Air Force drop trooper beret smiled and spoke,
        ìSorry about me friend, chap. ëeís a little bit on the rough side, wot, eh?î
        ìNo kidding. Hmmm... youíre with the drop troops?î
        ìAh, ëtis the literal and correct truth. Was with the 33rd Light Attack. The Storm Riders, ever
heard of ëem?î
        ìYeah. Were you on The Plateau of Blood?î
        The pitbull nodded,
        ìAye, so I was. Bloody battle, eh?î
        ìLiterally.î
        ìWere you there? I donít remember the 12th beiní at it.î
        ìI was, but I was out of the 12th by then. I was one of the mercs on air cover.î
        ìAye, thatís right. Those bloody three year terms of CSF service, eh?î
        ìUh-huh. Exactly.î
        The pitbull motioned at Mira,
        ìMissy, what unit were ya in, eh?î
        Mira smiled,
        ìNone. Iím a merc vet.î
        ìEh? The whole war?î
        Mira nodded. The pitbull looked back at Gray,
        ìYou, how long into the war before ya became a merc, anyhow?î
        ìI left service in the first few months of the war. Became a merc near the beginning. How about
you?î
        ìAh, never been much oí a merc. Stayed in the drop troops til me olí injury put me out.î
        ìWhat injury?î
        The pitbull pointed down at his right leg,
        ìMe olí leg ëtwas blasted out from under me, so ëtwas! Got meself a new mechanical job, but
ëtisnít much to keep a drop trooper goiní. They stuck me in a desk job until the end oí the war, aye so they
did.î
        Gray nodded. The pitbull squinted at him,
        ìEh, do you have any missing limbs or such? The CSF got a lot of that.î
        Gray grinned,
        ìNot exactly. Iíve almost been blown away several times... got shot up a whole bunch. Never
actually lost anything, but I got something almost as bad...î
        Gray stood up and pushed his jacket aside. He lifted his shirt slightly. Underneath, on the right
side of his body, was a large scar that tore down the right side of his body. It ran from about halfway up
his chest down to the bottom of his stomach. The pitbull stared at the scar,
        ìAye, ëtis a grand olí wound! What manner of weapon caused such an injury?î
        Gray let his shirt back and pushed his jacket back into place.
        ìA ceremonial knife. Itís a long story. Actually, the wound isnít really related to war. But it sure
hurt a lot.î
        The pitbull grinned,
        ìAhíll say. Man, makes olí Geradís eye look tiny, eh. Oh, Geradís that olí tiger ya beat up. ëeís
all talk and brag but no real fight. Thinks the Cornerian Army spec ops was the best unit in the whole
damn war, eh.î
        ìYeah.î
        ìRight-ho. Ahíll say that ya should both be included in our conversation. Allow me to present my
friends. There names arenít important, ya kin jusí call ëem ëhey youí or such.î
        The other two people at the table nodded. One was a big snowy owl with a deadpan expression,
the other was a female skunk wearing a Cornerian Space Navy uniform. Gray and Mira nodded at them.
The pitbull continued,
        ìAnyhow, we were talkiní ëbout how all the Cornerian gov ainít doiní ta keep us all happy. I
think that our owl friend, ëis nameís Jarkin, was about ta say some-what.î
        The owl blinked and nodded,
        ìYes... er, ahem... well, I was just about to say that the Cornerian government owes us! We
served them and won their damn war for them. Now they just kick us aside. They should offer a better
pension plan and some government-funded housing instead of just kicking us out on the street.î
        The skunk spoke up,
        ìYeah! Weíve given a lot to them! Hell, half the joints in my damn body are mechanical cause of
their blasted war! We deserve better than weíre getting. I mean, they just frikkiní forgot about us combat
vets after the war.î
        The owl nodded,
        ìExactly! Man... someday theyíre gonna regret turning us aside. Someday weíre gonna rise up!
Then theyíll be sorry that they did this to us.î
        Gray spoke,
        ìIím sorry, but my wife and I have to be going. Got some stuff to do. Nice talking to you guys.
        The pitbull smiled,
        ìAye, seeya mateys later, eh?î
        ìSure.î
        Gray and Mira walked out of the bar and onto the street. They began walking out of the slum
section and back to the normal part of Corneria City. Mira looked at Gray,
        ìIs the treatment really that bad?î
        ìThereís only one way to find out.î
        ìWhatís that?î
        ìVisit the most detached combat vet I know... Tagaio Misada. Heís a panda who lives way out in
the Telderon hills. Itís a really nice place. He runs a dojo out there. Specializes in hand-to-hand combat.
Nice guy... havenít seen him for a while.î
        ìSo weíre going there?î
        ìOf course.î

-The Broadsword, in orbit around Venom

        ìSir, we need your help on something.î
        Mark Selster turned his head when he heard the security officer, a corporal, calling,
        ìWhat is it?î
        ìYouíd better see for yourself.î
        ìWhere?î
        ìDown in the brig.î
        Mark nodded and got up from where he was sitting. They walked into the corridor and to the
main elevator. The guard pressed the call button and they waited for the elevator to arrive. The guard
shook his head,
        ìYou just have to see it for yourself. Itís freakiní nuts... uh... sir.î
        ìYes, and if youíre not going to give me details, kindly shut up about it.î
        ìSorry sir.î
        The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. The guard pressed the button for the brig level. The
elevator slid down and quickly arrived at the brig level. The doors opened again and the two stepped out.
The guard led the way.
        They finally arrived at one of the interrogation rooms. Mark entered the control booth and the
guard went off to do other things.
        Inside the control booth, they had a clear view into the interrogation room itself through a one-
way mirror. The people inside couldnít see anyone in the booth, but the people in the booth could see the
interrogation room.
        Mark looked inside and saw a hedgehog wearing a ragged uniform devoid of any insignia or
identifying marks. Mark shot a questioning glance at the interrogation officer. The officer looked at the
hedgehog inside and shrugged,
        ìWe picked him up planetside. An infantry exercise. He actually had the guts to attack them.
Tough guy, and no doubt about it!î
        Mark nodded,
        ìIíll see what I can do.î
        He left the control booth and entered the interrogation room itself. The hedgehog looked up,
defiance in his eyes,
        ìAh, ënother traitor military soldier ta see me aní ask me some questions.î
        Mark narrowed his eyes and looked straight at the hedgehog,
        ìName, rank, and unit.î
        The hedgehog returned the gaze evenly,
        ìGareth Verdent, sergeant, 5th Attack Squad. With the armored boys meself. You?î
        ìMark Selster, squadron sergeant, 89th Attack Squad. The resident armored unit.î
        Gareth saluted,
        ìYa just outranks me by a little bit, doncha? Well, ya donít seem like such a butthole as ëalf of
these jerks! I mean, come on. Why ya still with the military after the war?î
        ìNothing better to do, I suppose. Kind of got attached to it.î
        ìPuh-lease! I mean, look around you. Thereís nothing but these damn new recruits and a few
cynical command staff members. You got any real friends here?î
        ìYes, one. A captain named Alison Meris.î
        ìAh, yer only real friend on this damn rust bucket. Why donít ye join the movement?î
        Mark squinted at the hedgehog,
        ìWhat the hell are you talking about?î
        The hedgehog smiled,
        ìThe movement. Weíre gonna move against the Cornerian oppressors soon! Canít tell ya how or
where... but I can tell ya why... cause theyíve been pushiní the people around for too long! Not just us war
vets either, weíve got civies with us... local militia and such. The kind that can fight!î
        The hedgehog shut up and sat back. He crossed his arms over his chest and did not speak
anymore. Mark sighed and walked back into the control booth. The interrogation officer looked up at him,
        ìHeís not gonna talk, is he?î
        ìNo. Just hold him in the brig for another day or two and then dump him back where you found
him. What he said is all heís gonna say.î
        Mark walked out of the interrogation booth and back into the main corridor. He needed to talk to
Alison.

-Fox McCloudís old den, Papetoon

        Fox and Fara walked from where they had landed their Arwings to Foxís old den. They looked
around for the people they were supposed to be meeting. Fox called out,
        ìHello? Is anyone home?î
        The heard a voice near their footpaws,
        ìHey, not so loud. Come in, sheís expecting you both.î
        They looked down and saw a muskrat hidden in the bushes. He was perfectly camouflaged. He
grinned and waddled inside. Fox and Fara followed after him. The muskrat casually chatted as they
walked,
        ìSorry about the surprise, helps to be disguised. Never know what kind of vagabonds and rogues
will be hovering around, you know.î
        Fox and Fara only nodded. They were led into the area that had formerly been Foxís makeshift
livingroom.
        A female red wolf sat on a crate. She got up and smiled. Fox and Fara both noticed that she had
both arms covered in long gloves which reached all the way up to her elbows. She wore a black suit that
was half combat armor and half jumpsuit. She extended a paw to Fox. He grabbed it and shook. Her grip
seemed unnaturally strong and very hard. She then shook paws with Fara and both foxes sat down on
crates. The red wolf spoke,
        ìMy name is Minita DelVariot. Iím the leader of the Papetoon Independent Defense Force... or
PIDF as most call it.î
        Fara couldnít help herself,
        ìWhy are you wearing those gloves?î
        Minita smiled,
        ìMost would just assume I wear them because I like the look... but thatís not entirely true. There
is another reason. I have something I sometimes have good reason to hide.î
        She quickly removed both gloves. Both the lower parts of her arms were colored black. Fox and
Fara looked closer and saw that both lower arms were mechanical. Minita grinned,
        ìMy little secret.î
        Fox managed to get out a word,
        ìHow?î
        ìThe right one I lost in a fight with Wolf OíDonnell. Heís one strong farginí fighter. Stomped
down on my right arm with a combat boot, shattered all the bones. Injury was so messy they couldnít fix
it. Had to amputate. I decided a mechanical arm with ten times my normal strength might be useful.î
        ìWhat about the left arm?î
        ìAh, thatís a little different. Got the wrist and paw blown clean off by a 10mm railgun.î
        Fox nodded and stared. Minita replaced the gloves,
        ìThatís not all.î
        Fox looked at her. She shook her head,
        ìNo. My right knee is prosthetic, got skimmed in the kneecap by a 9mm handgun. It was a .45
and took off a good portion of the knee. They decided itíd be easier just to replace it that have me crippled
for life.î
        Fox nodded,
        ìThat all?î
        ìYeah, pretty much. But thatís not what weíre here to talk about.î
        Fox nodded again,
        ìThen what is?î
        ìA revolution.î
        Fox and Fara both stared incredulously at the red wolf. She nodded,
        ìA revolution. The PIDF is going to strike back at the Cornerian government for all that itís
done.î
        Fara spoke,
        ìYouíre not kidding, are you?î
        Minita shook her head and her expression turned grave,
        ìNot by any means. We are fully prepared and ready to launch the revolution. You can help if
you really want to, but itís a little late for that. We mostly want you to witness what you see here and tell
others like you... the downcast heroes. We need you for the new order.î
        Fara spoke again,
        ìWhat kind of forces do you have?î
        ìLots of combat veterans. Many are missing parts of themselves, like myself. The Cornerian
government did this to us... made us lose part of who we are, and then kicked us aside like trash. Weíre
going to hit them back and theyíll regret not having treated us better. Youíll stay with us for a few days
and observe. Then you can tell others about it.î
        Fox and Fara both nodded. Minita smiled at last,
        ìGood. Tefin, show them to their room.î
        The muskrat who had shown them in nodded and motioned,
        ìThis way please. Youíll be staying in the room which you, Mr. McCloud, used to inhabit
yourself. I trust you know your way around well enough to get there?î
        Fox nodded. The muskrat smiled,
        ìExcellent. If you need anything, donít hesitate to give me a shout, Iíll be out where I was when
you came.î
        The muskrat, still in his camouflage, ran off to take his post again. Fox and Fara walked to their
room.
        They entered the room and Fara closed the door. She and Fox looked around. Fox finally spoke,
        ìAmazing, theyíve left it exactly the same as it always was.î
        Fara nodded and flopped out on the bed. Fox sat down next to her. She looked up at him,
        ìTheyíre starting a civil war.î
        ìNo kidding. I wonder why.î
        ìBecause the Cornerian government treats them like crap.î
        ìThatís what they say... but I have a feeling that itís not entirely true.î
        Foxís vision went white. He gasped. The vision of the vixen looking out over the field of death
came into his mind. He heard her voice, louder and more insistent than before,
        ìIt will. Someday.î
        Fox gasped again and fell back on the bed. His vision returned to see Fara leaning over him. She
frowned,
        ìFox?! Are you Ok?î
        He nodded weakly. She lay down next to him,
        ìOk Fox, out with it. What happened? Donít lie to me.î
        Fox groaned,
        ìI had a flashback... of a dream.î
        ìThis is new.î
        ìKind of. Back on the Far-Runner, I had a dream about a vixen who looked a lot like you only
with silver hair...î
        ìThat sounds like my ancestor Mariel.î
        ìWho?î
        ìMariel Phoenix is an ancient ancestor of mine. Iíve heard lots of legends about her.î
        ìWell then, I had a dream about her standing and looking over a field. The field was filled with
the dead and dying. It looked like the remains of some huge battle. Mariel was crying... someone asked if
it... I think they meant the battle... would happen again. She said it would someday.î
        ìWhat about just a minute ago?î
        ìI saw her standing over the field again. This time I just heard her say that it would happen
again. Both times the dream was as clear as reality... and my memory of them is perfect.î
        Fara frowned and put her arms around Fox,
        ìThatís not normal, Fox. You ever had any dreams like that before?î
        ìNo! I almost never dream! When I do, itís never that clear and vivid.î
        ìFox, at the beginning of the war, I would have said it was just a funny dream... but Iíve been
through a lot of really weird stuff in the past six or seven years. I think that thereís more to it than that.î
        ìHowís that?î
        ìWell, thereís the civil war starting, the morale of the citizens of Lylat going down the tubes, and
that weird dream about some battle that will happen again.î
        Fox frowned,
        ìA connection?î
        ìI think so. Do you?î
        ìYouíve never been wrong before.î
        ìThatís sweet.î
        She hugged Fox and they kissed. They both lay back on the bed and closed their eyes.
        The image of the vixen standing over the field of death was all that fox saw. The words rang in
his ears... sounding more and more urgent.
        But it seemed that they referred to something far more sinister than a mere civil war.

-Telderon Hills, Corneria

        Gray and Mira Lancer walked up the steep hill that lead to Tagaio Misadaís dojo. The dojo itself
was a large building made of stone and wood. Around it stood many trees and plants. The whole area was
one of supreme natural beauty.
        The two foxes crested the hill and approached the building. Someone jumped out of the bushes
and leveled a staff at them. It was a short and fat looking panda. He snarled,
        ìWho goes there?î
        He suddenly recognized who it was and grinned,
        ìOh, itís you, Gray. Whoís this?î
        ìMy wife, Mira.î
        ìOh, glad to meet you, Mira.î
        The bear bowed quickly and then resumed grinning,
        ìGood to see you both. Gray, itís been a long time since youíve been up here. You must be
getting rusty.î
        Gray nodded,
        ìI probably am. Unfortunately, I donít have time for any practice. I need to talk to you.î
        ìOh, sure. Come inside. Please. Iíve got some tea ready.î
        They walked up to the dojo and Tagaio slid the door open. He motioned at their footpaws,
        ìShoes off, please.î
        Gray and Mira took off their shoes and laid them next to the pandaís by the door. They all
entered the dojo and Tagaio closed the door again. He dashed off to get the tea. Mira looked at Gray
skeptically,
        ìThis guy is a combat vet? Get out.î
        ìIím not kidding. Heís the best paw-to-paw fighter I know, myself included. Donít let his silly
appearance or attitude fool you. Heís deadly and completely loyal to his friends. Heís the kind of guy you
really want on you side.î
        Mira nodded. The panda came back with three cups of steaming liquid. He handed two of them
to Gray and Mira and kept one himself. He motioned to several rush mats on the floor,
        ìSit down, sit down. I donít have any students right now so Iím not very busy. We can talk a
while.î
        Gray nodded,
        ìGood. This is actually pretty urgent. I need to know how you feel about the Cornerian
government.î
        Tagaio shrugged and looked a little puzzled,
        ìThatís the oddest question youíve ever asked me. I guess Iím Ok with them. I mean, theyíre a
little uptight and pretty annoying... but itís not like I hate them or anything. The pensionís good and the
health plan covered my stay in the hospital.î
        Mira looked confused. Gray explained,
        ìTagaio was caught by the shockwave of a rather large explosion. He didnít lose anything,
thankfully, but he did take quite a hit. Stayed in the hospital for months.î
        Tagaio grinned widely,
        ìHurt a whole bunch. But the government paid for my medical bill, so I canít complain much.î
        Gray nodded,
        ìBut you donít resent them or anything?î
        Tagaio shook his head vigorously,
        ìOh no. Why should I?î
        ìYou shouldnít. Thatís why I came here.î
        ìSorry Gray, but I donít quite follow you? Why exactly DID you come to see me?î
        ìWell. Firstly I actually have been meaning to visit you for a while, but thatís not the main
reason. The main reason is because a lot of combat vets are getting really pissed at the government. We
talked to a bunch of them who were starting a civil war!î
        ìYou know, Gray... Iíve actually heard a little about that from people who pass through here. On
pilgrimages and all that stuff. Theyíve been talking about how hostile the combat veterans are getting, and
how bad the morale of the general public is.î
        ìWhat do you think?î
        ìI think that something really fishy is going on. This sort of thing isnít natural at all. I mean,
look at it. My medical bill probably cost more than getting all of my limbs replaced would have, but the
government still paid it. They also give me a decent pension, which I donít depend on but I could
theoretically live off it. Theyíre not stiffing me and theyíre certainly not stiffing anyone else.î
        ìSo why is everyone at each othersí throats?î
        Tagaio frowned,
        ìGray, Mira... can you two handle a little weirdness?î
        Both nodded. Mira laughed,
        ìAre you kidding? Do you have any idea what weíve been through?î
        Tagaio grinned,
        ìIíll take a simple ëyes.í Come with me.î
        The panda finished his tea in a single gulp and led Gray and Mira to a small door inside the dojo.
He slid it open to reveal stairs leading down into a cave. The cave was lit by numerous torches on the
walls. The panda descended the stairs, followed closely by Gray and Mira. Tagaio explained as the walked
down,
        ìYou may find this all very hard to believe, but Iím quite fond of the occult. See, this is my little
place for experimentation. None of that wizard stuff, mostly about the balance of things and the spirits and
stuff. You donít buy any of this, do you?î
        Gray responded,
        ìTagaio, a few years ago I was captured by a powerful sorceress who had sold her soul to a
demon. Mira and I were there when she was killed in a spiritual duel and when her master was banished.
Iím ready to believe anything, soís my wife.î
        Mira nodded emphatically. Tagaio shrugged,
        ìFair enough. Here we are.î
        The entered a large cavern. There were various charts and diagrams around. There were lots of
pots and cauldrons, along with numerous herbs. There were also shelves along the edges of the cavern
filled with books. In the center of the cavern was what looked like a well. It was filled with a swirling
liquid of many colors.
        Tagaio motioned for them to sit around the well. They did so. Tagaio spoke,
        ìOne of the things I can do... rather poorly, I admit, but I can do it... is to sense the balance of the
universe and see if anything is wrong. Things like dimensional travel and spirits crossing into other
planes of existence will upset the balance. So I began to notice something a couple years ago.î
        ìAbout the same time the whole slump began?î
        ìExactly. Anyway, I noticed something is really messing up the balance. Itís bigger than
anything thatís recorded in any of those books... except for one event.î
        Gray squinted at Tagaio,
        ìWhat one event.î
        Tagaio got up and wandered over to a table. He picked up a book and brought it back. He opened
the book and began flipping through it,
        ìThis is the record of some pretty ancient times. Let me see... ah, here it is. The First War of the
Destroyer.î
        Gray and Mira both stared at Tagaio. The panda continued,
        ìSee, apparently something came through from another dimension and began to turn everyone
against everyone else. The Protectors of Lylat fought it to a bitter standstill. The whole thing ended with a
massive battle on what was later known as the Field of Blood. The thing, whatever it was, returned to its
own dimension to lick its wounds. But everyone knew it would be back... it was just a matter of how
long.î
        Gray spoke,
        ìThereís no Second War of the Destroyer? Is there?î
        Tagaio shook his head.
        ìThatís what I was afraid of. You think itís whatís happening?î
        Tagaio shrugged,
        ìI donít really know.î
        ìGuess.î
        ìIf I had to guess... Iíd say yes. Itís happening and the ancient prediction is coming true.î
        Gray nodded and stroked his chin. Mira spoke up,
        ìDoes the book give any details about the order of what happened? Did the thing appear right
away?î
        Tagaio consulted the book,
        ìApparently not...î
        He flipped through it some more,
        ìApparently he didnít come through until the people were fighting brutally amongst themselves.î
        Gray muttered softly to himself, but the other could hear him,
        ìSo it started a civil war and then came through... itís happening again all right.î
        He looked up and spoke in a louder voice,
        ìWe need to know everything we possibly can about this Destroyer thing. I donít care how
obscure the reference is. We need to know what the hell is going on here... and we need to know now...
because, from the looks of it, this only gets worse.î

-Office of Public Relations, Corneria City

        The sound was unmistakable, the firing of automatic weapons. Tim Banaway jumped up from his
chair. He saw the rest of the staff in the large room getting up and looking around in confusion. One of
them spoke,
        ìWhat the hell is going on here?î
        The sounds were growing louder. Now they could pick out shouting as well. One of the staff
members had been talking over a com unit. She put the unit down and turned to the rest,
        ìSomeoneís attacking a whole bunch of government buildings! Theyíre inside!î
        Tim shook his head to clear it,
        ìWait a minute... thereís still a bunch of pistols from the war against Andross in the closet. Get
them out and make sure everyone gets one.î
        The staff member nodded and ran off. She returned with a box containing pistols and
ammunition. These were distributed amongst the staff members. One of them sneered at the pistol,
        ìThis thing wonít do crap against automatics! Itís only a freakiní .22!î
        Tim growled,
        ìWould you rather use paw-to-paw?î
        That shut the staff member up. The automatic weapon fire was getting really close. Tim
overturned his desk and ducked behind it. The rest of the staff followed his example. He glanced over the
top and watched the door to the large office.
        Suddenly, bullets punched through the area around the lock and someone kicked it down. It was
someone wearing combat armor. It was impossible to see their face under the heavy helmet. They held a
large 11mm gatling gun. The screamed into the room,
        ìYou farginí govies are gonna get it for what youíve done to us.î
        Several more armored troopers walked into the room. They were armed with everything from
shotguns to a large gun that Tim remembered from an article in the paper as being a 10mm railgun.
        One of the staff members poked out from cover and fired their handgun. The trooper with the
railgun fired and hit the staff member directly in the head. Tim heard a wet splatter and saw red on the
carpet. The body hit the rug with a dull thud.
        The troopers moved into the room. Tim resolved to take at least one of them down with him
before he went.
        He heard the fire of another handgun, and the roar of a shotgun. Someone screamed in pain,
definitely not one of the troops. Another shotgun blast and the screaming went silent.
        More gunfire, a few yells. The light partitions that were set up around the officer prevented Tim
from getting a good view of what was going on.
        He heard footpawsteps and looked up. One of the troopers was standing over him holding the
10mm railgun. The trooper grunted,
        ìWhen you get to hell, tell ëem to clear some room... cause every govie in the system is gonna be
down there soon.î
        The troopers squeezed the trigger. Timís lifeless body hit the floor and his blood oozed out onto
the carpet.

-Crew Section 12B, the Broadsword

        Darus sat in the dark and shivered. He was not cold, and wouldnít have shivered if he had been...
but he was terrified.
        He knew that they were coming... but no one would listen to him. They didnít believe that such a
thing could possibly exist.
        Their own unwillingness to except the unusual would be their own downfall.
        Darus suddenly felt that he wasnít alone in the room. He looked around in terror,
        ìWh...whoís there?î
        No one answered. The dark merely remained silent. Taunting him without saying a thing.
        Darus moved his arms around. The technicians had disconnected him from the cables earlier that
day. They felt that he was getting unstable and that they wouldnít need him until he could give coherent
advice again.
        He was still confined to this damn chair, though. He was a more machine than he was fox.
        Again, he felt that he was not alone. He tried again,
        ìWhoís there? Who i...is i...i...it?î
        Again, no one answered. The dark still mocked him silently. The feeling of someone... or
something... being with him in the room did not go away. Darus looked around again but could see
nothing.
        ìM...mark? This isnít f...f...funny.î
        To his surprise and terror, someone answered,
        ìNo. Not Mark.î
        The voice was deep and rich. But it sounded perfectly horrible. The voice was flawless yet it held
an undertone of complete evil. Darus stared into the darkness,
        ìWho are you?î
        ìMe? Iím just here to pay you a little visit, friend.î
        Darus felt his body begin to shake violently. He tried to control it but found that he couldnít. The
voice continued,
        ìThe broken one? Is that what they call you here?î
        Darus tried again,
        ìWh...wh...what a...a...are y...you?î
        ìOh, youíre getting good at this Darus... but say it with some conviction.î
        Something brushed Darusí cheek. It felt cold and scaly. He quaked with terror. The voice went
on,
        ìBut that IS a very good question. What am I? How to put this in a way youíll understand.î
        The voice paused. Darus felt a feeling of something very evil near him. He saw two points of red
in the dark in front of him. He realized that they were the eyes of whatever was speaking to him. The
voice spoke again, but this time it seemed even more evil,
        ìI am your worst nightmare and then some... come to very real life.î
        There was a green glow around the eyes. Darus could vaguely make out a strange face. It looked
like something across between some sort of reptile and a skull. Darus managed to choke out some more
words,
        ìWh...what do y...y...you want?î
        The face grinned. Darus quivered with fear. The voice spoke,
        ìWhat I want... what I want... I want you, Darus... I want you...î
        Darus was nearly paralyzed with fear. The face continued to grin. More of the body began to
appear. It was across between skeletal and reptilian. Darus wanted to look away but found that he couldnít
move his head.
        ìItís time, Darus... it is time...î

-Brett and Kelly MacDonaldís country home, Corneria

        Brett sat back on the couch and tried to watch the newscast without letting Fenica Lancer out of
his site. He muttered to himself,
        ìGray and Mira, I do not envy you one bit.î
        Fenica was playing with a whole bunch of blocks on the floor. Fortunately, she hadnít tried to use
any of them as missiles... yet.
        Brett listened to the newscast as he watched Fenica. Something caught his ear in the broadcast,
        ì...fatality rate is thought to be nearly one-hundred percent. This the worst attack in the history of
the Cornerian Government of Lylat. A terrorist group is claiming responsibility for this... calling
themselves the ëBrethren of the Fallení they have released the following tape to all media distributors...î
        Brett looked up quickly at the TV. The picture changed to show someone sitting behind a desk.
The lighting was such that they were obscured by shadow. The video was obviously home-made and done
rather hastily. The person spoke,
        ìBy the time you see this, you will have witnessed the incredible power of my forces. We have
attacked the Office of Public Relations, the Office of Colonization, and the Embassy of Katina. You will
notice that there are few survivors at best. We are sending a very straightforward message with this... you
have shoved veterans of the war against Andross aside like spent shells for far too long... this is going to
stop NOW. Our demand is simple... there is no demand. The time for reconciliation is long past... now is
the time for revenge. We will continue these attacks and there is nothing you can do about it. The
Brethren have spoken.î
        The tape ended and the newscast went back to the studio view. The newscaster spoke again,
        ìFor those of you who are just tuning in, there was a brutal attack on the Office of Public
Relations, the Embassy of Katina, and the Office of Colonization, all in Corneria City. The attacks were
made by large teams of armored soldiers who killed everyone they encountered. It is believed that they
have achieved nearly a one-hundred percent fatality rate.î
        Brett shut off the newscast. He turned back to look at Fenica. She was building towers out of her
blocks. Oblivious to the disaster that had happened earlier that same day. Kelly walked into the room and
smiled at Fenica. Brett looked up at her,
        ìHave you seen the evening newscast?î
        Kelly shook her head,
        ìNo, did something happen.î
        ìYes. A bunch of war vets calling themselves the ëBrethren of the Fallení attacked a bunch of
Cornerian government buildings. They killed everyone inside. The newscast is saying that they got almost
everyone.î
        ìDo Gray and Mira know about this? That sounds like it would connect to their assignment.î
        ìI have no clue where Gray and Mira are. I called Gray on his personal com unit and he only said
that he couldnít talk and that heíd call when he could.î
        Kelly sighed. She sat down on the couch next to Brett. She looked down at Fenica, who had
stopped playing with her blocks. Fenica walked over and jumped onto Brettís lap. Kelly smiled,
        ìBy the way, dear, itís your turn to try to get her to eat something.î
        Brett groaned,
        ìNo, itís my turn to give her food and try not to run out. She eats like thereís no tomorrow and
doesnít gain a pound! Takes after her father.î
        Fenica giggled,
        ìFood! I hungry.î
        Brett corrected her,
        ìNo, itís ëI am hungry.íî
        Kelly laughed,
        ìYouíre giving grammar lessons to a two-year-old.î
        Fenica frowned,
        ìTwo aní a HALF.î
        Brett nodded,
        ìYes. Well, itís time for a certain two and a half year old to eat something. What would you
like?î
        Fenica smiled, she liked the idea of dinner time,
        ìEvíryfing!î
        Brett groaned again,
        ìWeíll find something nice.î

-Fox McCloudís old den, Papetoon

        Fox heard a loud knock on the door and sat up straight. He looked over at Fara and saw that she
was also awake. Fox got up and put his shirt on. He walked over to the door and opened it a crack,
        ìWhoís there?î
        ìItís me, Tefin.î
        Fox squinted into the light of the hall and saw the muskrat who had led them in, with his
camouflage gone, outside. Fox sighed,
        ìWhat do you want?î
        ìUh... Ms. DelVariot requests that you both be present for her... ahem... little speech. Feel free to
bring any recording devices for... er ahem... posterity.î
        ìWeíll be there in a few minutes.î
        The muskrat nodded and waddled off. Fox closed the door and turned on the lights. Fara buried
her head under the covers of the bed,
        ìPlease tell me weíre not going to that stupid speech.î
        ìUnfortunately we are. I want to get a tape of this. Might be useful. Get dressed and letís go.î
        Fara nodded and stepped out of bed. They both quickly dressed.
        Fully dressed, they stepped out into the corridor and walked outside. Sure enough, Minita was
standing at a makeshift podium with a number of her followers already there. Fox looked around at the
gathering crowd,
        ìThey must be camped nearby. Thereís no way this many could fit in my den... and thereís more
coming!î
        Fara nodded. Minita was drumming her paws impatiently on the podium. She called out Tefinís
name and he scurried out of the shadows to her. She whispered something in his ear. He nodded quickly
and scurried off again.
        Fox and Fara found somewhere where they could see Minita and hear her well. More and more
people filed in and the field began to get fairly crowded. Finally Tefin came up to the podium and spoke,
        ìAttention everyone, please be silent. Our glorious leader, General Minita DelVariot!î
        There was a massive cheer. Fox started the small recorder he had. Minita smiled down on her
followers and began speaking,
        ìFor a long time the Cornerian government has oppressed those who fought for them in the war.
For a long time they have tossed us away!î
        There was a hiss of derision from the crowd. Minita continued,
        ìThey have cast us down, but now we will rise up! We have gathered force and gathered power!
We are ready... now it is time! The PIDF will join the Brethren of the Fallen and make it stronger! We
will overcome the Cornerian government and make them bow before us!î
        A massive cheer went up. Fox and Fara looked at each other with worried expressions. Minita
spoke on,
        ìOur first mission is one of great importance... there is a huge convoy coming very near this
planet. Every one of you with a ship must be prepared to leave in exactly half an hour. We will strike this
convoy and destroy all of it! This will show the Cornerian government that is no longer safe in space or on
the ground... that it is not safe anywhere! Now go! Prepare yourselves for the first battle in our new war!î
        The cheer went to a roar. Pilots and crew scrambled to go to their ships and prepare them. Fox
and Fara looked out over the field and saw what looked like hundreds of various small ships. There was
even a couple larger ships.
        They got down from their vantage point and walked over to Minita. She smiled at them,
        ìNow Corneria gets what it deserves.î
        Fox only nodded, Fara did nothing. Minita waved her right paw around,
        ìThis isnít even the best of it... in orbit on the other side of the planet is a medium carrier! It is
my new flag ship. Both of you will accompany me on it. Your Arwings will be in the hangars and at your
disposal. You will witness firsthand the revenge of the fallen ones. Corneria will regret its decision to
throw us aside.î
        Fox and Fara both nodded.
        ìWe will leave in half an hour. You should probably get your things.î
        Minita walked away and left Fox and Fara alone on the field. Fara looked over at Fox,
        ìAre we going to do it?î
        ìI donít think we have a choice.î
        ìThis is nuts. Theyíre going to start a civil war!î
        ìNo kidding. The Brethren of the Fallen? Whatís that?î
        Fara shrugged,
        ìNo idea. Well, letís get our stuff.î
        They walked back inside Foxís den and went to their room to retrieve their things.

-Telderon Hills, Corneria

        Deep inside the Telderon Hills, under Tagaio Misadaís dojo, Gray, Mira, and Tagaio looked
desperately for any information on the First War of the Destroyer.
        Actually, at the moment they had all fallen asleep.
        Gray picked his head up. He looked around and saw that the other two were still asleep. He saw
something in front of him. It looked like a vixen wearing a dark tan robe. She had silver hair and carried a
large sword. Gray muttered to himself,
        ìOh man... I have to be dreaming.î
        To his surprise, the vixen spoke,
        ìFind Fox McCloud and Fara Phoenix-McCloud. Combine your knowledge and you will know
what is to happen. Continue the search in the fortress in the clouds of a dead world.î
        The image disappeared. Gray shook his head but things remained the same. That didnít seem
very much like a dream, more like a vision. Fox McCloud? Fara Phoenix-McCloud? Hadnít seen them in
a long time. Gray lay down again on the mat he had been sleeping on and thought.
        Combine our knowledge? That meant that Fox and Fara knew something he needed to know, and
he knew something they needed to know. It also probably meant that the search for more information
could stop at least for a little while.
        Gray walked over to Mira and shook her awake. She turned over and groaned,
        ìLet me sleep.î
        ìNo. We have to find Fox McCloud and his wife. Now.î
        ìDo you have any idea where they are?î
        ìNope. Weíll have to wing it. You with me?î
        Mira nodded her head,
        ìGray, Iím ALWAYS with you. No matter how stupid your idea sounds. Letís get moving... wait
a minute... what about Tagaio?î
        Gray found a sheet of paper and took out a pen,
        ìIíll leave him a note.î
        He quickly wrote a note and stuck it next to the sleeping panda. He and Mira made their way
back up the stairs and into the dojo. They put their shoes back on and walked out into the early morning
air. Gray explained everything as they walked,
        ìI saw someone in a vision that told me to find Fox and Fara and combine our knowledge. I
assume that means we tell them about the war with the Destroyer and all that and they give us something
that makes sense of that. Then the person... it was a vixen with a huge sword... told me to ëcontinue the
search in a fortress in the clouds of a dead world.í Those are her exact words... donít mean a thing to me,
how about you?î
        Mira shook her head,
        ìNot a clue. How do you suggest we find Fox and Fara?î
        ìNo idea. Iím completely open to suggestions.î
        Mira sighed,
        ìGood old impulsive Gray Lancer...