Canis Canum Edit

It's a well-known fact of the Lylat system that dogs are, well, the top dogs.

The very phrase has its origins in the evolutionary history of Corneria. Less than 200,000 years ago, dogs didn't even exist. Rather, some wolves got the bright idea of using fire, and eating cooked meat, and before you know it, dogs have come into the world. Smaller, weaker, but smarter. Oh yes, on a practical sense, there's no difference between species' IQ nowadays, but it was dogs who mastered the secret of fire. Dogs who kickstarted the Agricultural Revolution. Dogs who spread out over Corneria, dogs who mastered the secrets of industry, dogs who took lands as their own, from the poles to the equator. By the dawn of spaceflight, dogs and their various sub-species accounted for about 90% of all Corneria's species.

There were hiccups along the way of course. Cats gave dogs a run for their money. And apes and monkeys have long punched above their weight intellectually, which, in this day and age, has helped self-declared Emperor Andross bring all kinds of technology to the fore. The Cornerian Defence Council can claim that "we're all in this together," but there's a reason why the bulk of the CDF is composed of dogs, and there's a reason why so many of Andross's forces are composed of simians and reptilians. Species that have been pushed to the sides by mammalian dominance and turned to mercenary work, or have felt constrained by Cornerian society. If Corneria wins, it's going to have to consider why so many people willingly joined Andross's side. If Venom wins, then…well, the Cornerians probably won't have much to worry about.

Being dead tends to end worries. He's had experience in that.

These thoughts lurk in the back of Wolf O'Donnell's head as he and the rest of Star Wolf stand on the landing deck of the Salvadora. It's Andross's flagship, and Wolf knows it's his flagship, because ever the conquering hero, he's kept it well out of harm's way. Legions of pilots and troopers are standing in formation, watching a giant red hologram of the monkey speak. Corneria was a setback...war is just beginning...destiny...future of Lylat...strength, power, righteousness...zzz...Wolf knows he isn't particularly well read, but he knows a crackpot when he sees one. Andross is no different from all the other would-be dictators of history. Smarter, yes. More technologically advanced, yes. The person who might actually succeed in overturning an established order that's lasted as long as history? Yes. But still a dictator. And while undoubtedly a genius, Wolf is left to wonder if there's a bit of insanity on the other side of the credit chip. Not that he's part of the self-declared Venomian Empire, but, well, he's heard things. Bioweapons on Aquas. The devastation of Zoness. Slave labour on Venom itself.

He reminds himself that it doesn't matter. He's in this for the money. But then, if Andross actually wins, he's also reminded that that might not be good for business.

He can take some small measure of comfort in knowing that most of Star Wolf is similarly disinterested. Pigma's leaning against the wall, letting out a sound that's some weird mix of oinks and snores. Leon has gone even further, his eyes closed, his breathing almost non-existent. It's only Andrew who's paying attention. Andrew, whose loyalty to Andross is even greater than that of Star Wolf. Andrew, who got Wolf's foot in the door when the CDF, being all high and mighty before the shit hit the fan, rejected his initial offer of fighting for them Andrew, who Wolf knows he can't trust, but will admit is a cut above most pilots he's known.

"For Venom and the Empire!"

"For Venom and the Empire!" the assembled troops parrot, Andrew included, raising their fists in the air. Andrew does so as well, and Wolf gives him a look with his one good eye. A look that says, "watch it monkey boy, I'm onto you." His left eye would be saying the same thing if he hadn't lost it in a dogfight against a certain fox all those years ago.

Dogfight, Wolf reflects. Dogs' dominance over the system is so great they've taken over the Lylat language itself. Bastards.

Pigma lets out an oink. "Is it over?"

Leon licks his lips with a tongue that wasn't meant for mortal eyes. "One may hope."

Andrew, ever indignant, says, "show some respect. Andross is-"

"Our employer," Wolf interupts, giving the monkey a squeeze on the shoulder that yes, is meant to cause physical pain, thanks for asking. "Keep that in mind."

Andrew shoves his paw off and glares at Wolf. "Watch your mouth, bucko. When Andross wins this war, I'm going to be rewarded."

Wolf rolls his eye.

"So you might want to stay on my good side. Because if not..."

"Oh Andrew," Wolf whispers, bearing his teeth. "Both of your sides are good."

If Andrew is wondering if 'good sides' means that they'd make good chunks of meat for Wolf to sink his teeth into, then he's done his job.

Of course, speaking of jobs, they're about to get their next assignment. So that means heading over to the other side of the landing bay now that Andross has given his pretty speech to reassure his followers that the tide isn't turning.

Jackass.


Wolf doesn't consider himself particularly well read, but he does understand strategy.

Andross has gone all in. People are calling this conflict "the Lylat Wars," but in truth, the conflict's lasted about a week. And in the scope of that week, Andross has managed to take over Macbeth with barely a shot fired and occupied Fichina with quite a few more shots fired. That was in addition to the years of preparation he had, what with assembling a fleet above Venom, building a defence satellite, and even stationing forces on Titania because somehow, that dirtball has value to him. But as far as his actual assault has gone, it's been blunted. Katina is still holding out. An ongoing space battle is still being waged in Sector Y. And Corneria is completely free of Venomian forces bar a few holdouts, and them, well...there's some who've joined Andross's empire willingly. Others are mercenaries. And in Wolf's experience, mercs will always go the way the solar wind is blowing. If the tide turns, Andross is posed to lose a larger chunk of his forces than he might care to admit.

Least for now, he'll stay on Andross's side. Besides, there's a mission coming up for him, and he's going to see it through. After that, then, well...

Bam.

The hairs around his nose twitch. He knows the sound of a blaster when he hears one.

Bam.

And the rhythm of target shooting.

Bam.

Or, he reflects, as he approaches the far side of the landing deck, executions.

Bam.

Wolf smirks at the oversized monkey, who's carrying an oversized blaster in his oversized hands. "Nice shooting ace."

The grunt looks up at them, away from the corpse at his feet. He towers a head taller than Wolf. "Watcha want?"

Clearly, brawns compensated for brains. "Here on assignment," Wolf says.

The ape stares at them.

"You...are aware of who we are?"

The ape stares at them.

"Star Wolf."

"Star Wolf?"

"Yes, Star Wolf," Andrew snaps. "And as the nephew of the great Emperor Andross, I must say, you-"

"Oh, gotcha, Star Wolf!" the ape exclaims. He holsters his blaster and chuckles. "Right. Sorry. Forgot bout ya."

"Impudent vermin," Leon mutters.

If Pigma is perturbed at this brute's idiocy, he's not showing it. Rather, he's grinning at the prisoners. The thirteen that are on the deck, hands bound and mouths muzzled, and the three who are lying down beside them. He chuckles, as only a pig can.

"Friends of yours?" Wolf asks dryly.

The brute shrugs. "Took Fichina. COs been taken to Venom."

"And they're, what, detritus?"

"Nah." The ape chuckles. "They're fun."

Fun, Wolf reflects. He knows what fun is. Fun is something that varies from person to person. There's people he's met, even worked with, whose idea of fun is just plain killing. His idea of fun is beating someone in a good ol' fashioned dogfight. The type he had with James McCloud on more than one occasion before Andross did what he never could. Shooting hostages isn't something that gives him pleasure. Roughing them up? Sure. But not killing. Kill prisoners, you don't get a ransom paid.

He can already tell that doesn't bother Pigma or Andrew. Pigma's too impatient to do the job, because as soon as the job is done, he gets paid. Andrew is too busy gloating over the "mangy dogs." Leon...he can't tell what that reptile is thinking. The guy's one cold fish (or rather, lizard), staying calm and collected as he shoots down enemy spacecraft, or on occasion, being pursued. But he likes to think...

What?

He doesn't know what Leon thinks. And whatever the dogs are thinking, it can't be good. Least one of them has a look that indicates they're trying not to piss themselves.

"Anyway, here's your mission data." The ape hands each member of the team a data slate. "Go in, shoot the bad guys, get paid."

Maybe the ape isn't as brainless as he thought, Wolf reflects. He at least knows how this universe works. Either way, Wolf flicks through it - Venom's taken Fichina, but they know they can't hold it. One possibility is that the Cornerian Fleet breaks free of their homeworld's gravity well and launches an assault. The other, currently more likely one (according to Intelligence) is that the Star Fox team will launch an assault to recover the frontier base. Either way, they're going to make a stand - keep Corneria occupied long enough so that they can't send reinforcements to Katina or Sector Y. And if Corneria wants the base so bad, they're going to find nothing but radioactive scrap.

Asset denial, Wolf reflects. Also, the Star Fox team. James McCloud's spawn has put the band back together. Or, rather, hired two new pilots and brought Pigma's rabbit friend out for one final jaunt. He licks his lips, salivating at the thought of pitting his Wolfen against the Arwing. Of defeating James McCloud's son in a fair fight. Sending Fox Jr. to see his daddy in the Beyond, while he seals his status as the greatest pilot in the Lylat system.

"Peppy," Pigma giggles., looking at the slate. "Ooh, ain't he gonna be mad when he sees me!"

Well, it's good to know the team is similarly motivated, Wolf reflects.

"We're gonna hold it," Andrew whispers. "Gonna hold it, then take Corneria, and drive the fire of Andross right back into the heart of Corneria!"

Or maybe too motivated. He scrolls down to the end of the slate and notices that the destruction of the Star Fox team is an objective given equal importance to asset denial. Seems that Andross wants Fox dead as much as his daddy. But is willing to give Star Wolf the chance to do the deed.

He gives his team a nod. Pigma and Andrew take the hint and head for their Wolfen fighters. Leon, for his part, is still studying the brief. Which gives Wolf time to look back at the ape, then the prisoners, then the ape again.

"What about them?" he asks.

The ape draws out his blaster and grins.

"That simple is it?"

"We got the brains. And we got more than enough workers on Venom."

Wolf, much to his surprise, scowls. "You mean the slaves?"

Ape shrugs. "Been told to call them prisoners with jobs."

"Yeah, well, bet they're glad to know that unemployment is down." He looks back at the mutts. "Not sure about this lot though."

It's a lie. He's sure about a lot of things. One, is that these dogs are young - newbies get stationed on Fichina. A dip into the cold end before going to the bases and starships that the CDF actually gives a damn about. Second, is that they're going to die. Die better deaths than may other bastards, but still die. Third, those deaths aren't going to be fair.

"Shall we go, oh fearless leader?"

He looks at Leon. The lizard's eyes blink. Horizontal, not vertical, because of course not.

"Or is your blood pumping?"

What?

"Warmbloods." Leon licks his lips before heading for his Wolfen. "Still soft."

Wolf really, really wants to shoot Leon in the back right now. The only reason he doesn't is that he'll be a pilot down for Fichina. That, and, well, sad as it is, Leon's the closest member of Star Wolf he has to something approaching a friend. Other pilots have come (like Pigma and Andrew) and gone (like Algy), but Leon's stuck through thick and thin. And that means the lizard gets him.

Or he's just an arse. Either way, Wolf looks back at the ape.

"You know, I could always use some hands at Sargasso."

The ape raises an eyebrow.

"Have them transferred to my home base. I can ransom them off back to Corneria."

The ape, very slowly, says, "that don't sound like you can do somesuch..."

"Oh my friend, there's so much I can do." Wolf draws out a credit chip, and with a flick of his hand, gives the ape a thousand credits. "Here. Down payment for you to get them on a ship to Sargasso."

The dogs are looking at him funny. So's the ape.

"You going soft?" the ape asks.

"Soft?" Wolf puts a hand to his heart. "Never."

"Just sayin'..." The ape looks at the dogs. "Damn mutts think they run Lylat. And you..." He looks back at Wolf. "You ain't so different, are ya?"

"Excuse me?"

He gives Wolf a shove. "Wolves ain't far off the gene tree from dogs. Bet ya got something for 'em, eh? Furry friends? Bet if Corneria offered you a higher price, you'd go right to them."

Wolf, after a moment's hesitation, whispers, "canis canem edit."

"What?"

"It means that what I do with my prisoners is none of your business," he says. "So. Do you want more credit in your chip? Or shall we leave it there?"

The ape's clearly trying to work out some ulterior motive, but failing at it. So a few seconds later, he nods. And a few seconds after that, Wolf heads off, glancing at the dog soldiers. Some looking confused. Some, much to his chagrin, looking greatful. The idiots don't understand that he doesn't care about them. That he's only doing this for the money. If Andross doesn't want hostages or slaves, then that's on them. He just knows a deal when he sees it.

"I didn't think we were in the hostage business right now."

Andrew and Pigma are already in their cockpits, raring to go. Leon, meanwhile, is leaning against his Wolfen. Looking at Wolf with his big, bulbous eyes, and thin razor teeth in a grin.

"Or is there something that I'm missing?" Leon whispers.

Wolf walks past him and begins climbing into his cockpit.

"Don't tell me you've gone soft, Wolf."

"Me? Soft?" The pilot chuckles. "Never."

"Of course not. Because if you go soft, you go dead."

Wolf looks at Leon from up above. Is that a warning, he wonders? Or a threat? Watching Leon lick his lips and head for his Wolfen, he supposes that the answer is yes.

Canis canum edit, Wolf reminds himself. Dog eat dog.

One of those quirks of language, he reflects. Like dogs of war, or war dogs. He can't even claim to be a lone wolf right now, given that he's part of a merc squadron. Yes, the term "lone wolf" exists for a reason, in that while dogs were masters at building societies, wolves remained hunter-gatherers (primarily hunters) for as long as the world allowed them to. But if you want to make it as a fighter pilot, you need a squadron with you. Because despite what videogames and holos might have indicated, no-one wins a war on their own.

"Commence flight check."

Prepping the Wolfen is second nature to him at this point. Out of his cockpit, he looks at the ape, marching the dogs to a shuttle. So many ships come and go from the Salvadora, he figures it'll be easy enough to get them to Sargasso. And after that?

"Prepare to launch."

Well, that'll be an interesting day. But for now, they have a mission to Fichina.

"Star Wolf, go!"

And a fight to get to. One group of mercenaries against each other. Both of them fighting for a paycheck, albeit from different masters.

"Dog eat dog," Wolf murmurs, as his Wolfen blasts out into the airless night.


A/N

This was inspired by a weird little idea I had - considering that in our history, dogs evolved from wolves due to human domestication, how does that account for the existence of dogs and wolves in an anthropomorphic setting? Of course, the actual oneshot barely deals with that, but regardless, drabbled this up.