Acknowledgements: I wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for someone called Jazhara Lee. A couple years ago I got a frantic PM from them after I had taken down my old fics for personal reasons that I won't get into (and besides you're not reading this to hear me bitch anyway).

What follows won't be the exact same story as before as I never saved my old documents, but it will be my best effort to reconstruct Trials of Love and War as I remember, though there will be some things omitted for various reasons (they were too weird, anybody who read the original will know what I mean.) Also, I wrote this after Star Fox Adventures but before Assault or Command came out, so don't expect it to follow canon (like fanfics ever do)

So now, here's the first chapter of what I like to think of as Ultimate: Star Fox fanfic.

"Relax, Falco, I haven't seen you this tense since we buzzed Solar." Peppy Hare chuckled, one hand resting reassuringly on his avian wingman's shoulder. Falco Lombardi had always been fidgety in crowds, probably owing to his gang member upbringing that taught that a large number of people could mean opportunity---or disaster depending on whether you were a pickpocket or a soldier in a rumble.

"Two hours overdue," the blue feathered pilot scowled, raising one red eyebrow. "She's supposed to be back by now." Falco was naturally short-tempered and prone to illness, but being stuck on a capital ship rather than at the controls of his personal fighter made him even more irritable from the palpable sense of helplessness.

"We got word from her a week ago," the elder lapine straightened his flight suit as General Pepper approached from across the bridge of his command ship, The Guardian. Currently the entire Star Fox team, including their ships, was aboard the pride of the Corneria Home Fleet, and incidentally the only battleship to survive the Sector Y massacre. "Finished their tour successfully, no casualties, took out three enemy supply bases."

"She should have been home by now," Falco growled. He twisted his gloved fingers and stared at the same patch of black space that had remained unchanged for the past three hours. A few supply freighters here, an outbound fighter patrol there, but largely nothing but void, and that was the problem, Peppy thought. "Maybe I should go after her…"

Peppy sighed. Warp travel was unpredictable, considering how it involved warping time in addition to space. If Slippy were present he'd start chattering about singular physics and chaos mechanics, which of have been equally useless.

"So where is young McCloud?" Pepper asked, dressed in full Regalia. Today was a ceremonial occasion but the veteran of two Lylat Wars had always worn his full dress uniform even into battle "to inspire confidence among the troops."

"He's---checking the Great Fox," Peppy hated lying to an old friend and former commanding officer from his time in the Army, but Young McCloud, as the General put it, was currently pursuing a course of action that would likely get him lined up against the wall and shot---IF Corneria had a death penalty. It didn't, their alternative was banishment as a young Andross had found out.

"Lad needs to learn to take it easy," Pepper chortled, "every time I see him he's either fidgeting with data or running battle simulations."

"Maybe when we get Pigma he'll finally settle down," Peppy offered. And by settle down he meant relax. Fox was a space fighter by birthrate, and his father's death during the last major war had cemented that title. Even after having met that Cerinian girl, there was little to compel to buy a farm and raise kits---not that Peppy was one to talk, being well over half a century old and still a fighter Jockey.

His Nostalgia and whimsical reminiscing were broken by Falco declaring pointedly, "Pepper, clear a flight out to the Meteo Gate, I'm going out looking for Katt."

The General balked in surprise. "Ignore him," Peppy interjected, "he's just antsy, s'all. Youth today, can't wait for nothing."

Falco started to back down the bridge, towards the elevator to the main hangar. "I'm serious, Peps. I'm going out there."

"Falco, your Arwing is in the Great Fox. The Great Fox is in the Guardian. We'd have to launch her first before you could even get out in your fighter."

"So do that already," he glanced around at the various deckhands and command staff. "Pepper, tell one of these college grads to crank open the main hatch and get me out of here!"

"I see what you mean about impertinent youth," Pepper chuckled.

Fox McCloud, hero of the Lylat Wars, killer of the Butcher of Corneria, and recently, Planet Repairman, and now, a potential criminal, slid under the main computer core of the Guardian hacking into sensitive Cornerian data-bases and downloading their contents into his wrist-mounted PDA.

The dozen or so technicians lay slumped at their consoles, victims of Slippy's newest invention, a nonlethal sleep gas that he intended to patent and sell to Corneria's law enforcement division, which was ironic since the money received was to go into paying off the debt they'd incurred purchasing an illegal cloaking device for the Great Fox.

"Why couldn't we just ask for this?" Slippy Toad warbled nervously from where his portable CPU busily whirred and chirped as it greedily devoured billions of bits worth of information on enemy fleet movements and potential locations while simultaneously pretending to be the lead technician checking in with the bridge so no one would get suspicious. "I mean, Pepper would hire us to get Pigma if it were that important, wouldn't he?"

Fox swore as his PDA informed him of another firewall blocking his progress. It would be just five minutes until the combined hacks overcame this, but this led to another problem: they had no idea how long the sleep-gas effect lasted.

"Pepper doesn't understand," Fox figured he might as well kill the five minutes answering Slippy's question. "He thinks with Andross gone, his former goons aren't a problem anymore. But just because they all went to ground doesn't mean that's true."

"Oh." Slippy's large eyes rolled about in his amphibian face like they always did when approaching an uncertain topic. "We got Wolf, Leon, and Andrew out there, too, Fox. Any particular…reason…you want Pigma?"

Fox paused. "No. He's just got the most of Andross's old fleet behind him, that's all. Wolf and Leon downsized to a small merc force that hangs around Meteo somewhere and has no goals other than a quick buck, and Andrew's busy trying to overthrow the Venomian government from inside a cell. Pigma's out raiding, pillaging and burning defenseless civilian worlds with military hardware at his disposal and Pepper treats it like a criminal matter."

"Pirates are technically criminals, Fox," Slippy gulped at the dirty glare Fox shot him from under the mainframe, "just saying. I thought it might've been for, you know, personal reasons?"

Like how he betrayed my father? The vulpine mercenary filled in silently, or how when we met on Fortuna he not only was unremorseful, but the little swine actually GLOATED about it? "No, Slips," he replied through clenched fangs, "it's just the facts speaking."

The hacking unit chimed green again.

"Ok," Slippy spoke warily, "if you say so. Just wanted to make sure---."

The frogoid's next words were drowned in a chorus of alarms. Both hackers had a moment of queasy sickness, seeing themselves getting overpowered by guards and tossed into the brig, when an automated voice brought them both relief, and a greater fear.

"ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL, UNKNOWN, PRESUMABLY HOSTILE CONTACTS DETECTED!"

Fox and Slippy exchanged a look, then without a further word grabbed their equipment and ran.

Peppy was starting to wonder if Falco would have to be forcibly restrained by space marines when the XO informed Pepper that their deep probe sensors had just detected gate activity. "FINALLY!" Both the bird and rabbit exhaled in relief as a single green transmission opened between physical and warp space.

"See there," Pepper announced as the elongated body of the small assault frigate Katt Monroe had been given command over as part of her contract with Pepper emerged from warp, "we have absolutely nothing to worry about---."

A series of shrilling alarms cut him off. "Unrecognized gate transmission!" An officer announced in a panicky voice, "getting two, no four, no---five larger signatures coming through behind the Sentinel. Oh wait, there's still more coming! Geez, I think there must be thirty!"

True to the count, five massive battlecruisers emerged from warp directly above, below, and to either side of the assault frigate. Around them were over two dozen smaller support ships bristling with weaponry and no less menacing in appearance than their big brothers. "Damnit, get me OFF THIS SHIP!" Falco bellowed.

All eyes were on Pepper now. The Guardian was surrounded by a small escort fleet, but against this much firepower, it was unlikely they could do little more than stall an attack. However, Peppy noted, the formation of the armada was---off. No move had been made against the Sentinel, it being the closest target. Perhaps…..

"General, we're getting a hail," the comm. officer reported. His wooly features scrunched up under headgear attached to his station. "It's, uh, from the Sentinel, sir. Katt Monroe asking to speak to you personally."

For once, Falco was speechless. Pepper was not. "Put her through." He ordered.

The bridge screen flickered to life then displayed a familiar feline face appearing considerably more at ease than those she addressed. "Hey, guys don't shoot my friends please." Katt smiled, "I bet Falco's going nuts right now, well don't worry, sweetie, everything's fine."

"Pilot Monroe," Pepper used the formal term for a mercenary under contract with the Army, since technically she didn't hold a rank. "Your 'friends' as you put it, have caused quite a stir."

"And by 'stir' he means we've all gotta change our undies," Peppy muttered.

Katt laughed, "Peppy, you always were a poet. But seriously, they're not here to cause trouble."

"And just who are 'they'?" Falco asked suspiciously.

Fox and Slippy emerged onto the bridge, stolen datacards and hacking equipment stowed aboard the Great Fox, doing their best not to look like spies as Katt Monroe was finishing her explanation. Slippy had assured him the gas would also prevent anyone from remembering anything for an hour, so hopefully the technicians would all simply think they needed more coffee down near the main terminal.

"---so anyway, on our way back, they actually contacted us. Wanted to reestablish relations between themselves and Corneria. You can imagine how awkward that was; a small patrol ship suddenly becomes the ambassadorial link between Corneria and the Keleron Empire."

"Kelerons," Falco muttered at Fox in substitution of a proper greeting, "typical of them. Think they own the universe. No need to say hi, we'll just drop in with a battlefleet and start making demands."

"Actually," Peppy whispered as Pepper began asking Katt to put him through to the commander of the delegation fleet, "They've been pretty civil so far. Only asked us for permission to dock with their flagship."

"That's called putting your foot in the door," Falco growled, then turned to Fox, "so, how'd the Black Op go?"

Fox tapped the PDA on his arm, "oily smooth."

Notes: That's as far as I feel like going for now. I'll hopefully be able to get more up soon. If anyone remembers the original story, feel free to compare this and tell me if I've gotten better or worse. Also, I've completely forgotten what I used to call "Kelerons".