Chapter One

 “I can tolerate stupidity.  What I can’t stand is someone being proud of it.”

        --Prof.  Robert Shata, Corneria
 Why am I doing this?  The gray fox pondered quickly as he waited in an empty saloon somewhere in Titania.  The only other person in the room, the bartender, was busy cleaning one of the glasses, his constant yet tolerable humming making the only noise around.  The 6'2 fox readjusted his sitting to make himself more comfortable at the booth, his unusually purple eyes scanning for the ape he was ordered to wait for.  The saloon was low-lit, and the air was smelly from customers that had left their signature with their cigarette smoking habits.  He wore a rather clean white shirt and dark black pants, and on his chest was a gold metal badge that would show the Venom patrollers in this town that he’s registered to be in any Venom-controlled post.  He was a cargo pilot, has been for nine years, and the war between Andross and Corneria had not stopped his strictly-business deliveries, so far.  He may be hanging around in a Venom-controlled town, but he can come and leave Corneria whenever he liked.  Such the advantage of being neutral.
 Finally, the entrance door opened, giving in light into the saloon, as well as some of Titania’s notorious heat.  The ape was dressed in wealthy clothes of silk, and was carrying a suitcase.  He stood with the door open, and his brown eyes seemed to sparkle when he spotted the gray fox on the other side of the saloon.  Sand was beginning to blow inside also.
 “Will you shut the door, moron?!  You’re letting the sand in!”  The bartender angrily barked at the stranger.
 The gray fox almost chuckled at the scene, and the ape quickly shut the door and hurriedly walked over to him.  The ape was shorter in height, his chin riddled with a short, unshaven black stubble, and his reddish hair fur was groomed nicely done and lightly oiled that gave off a perfume-like smell.  His eyes sparkled with intelligence and snobbish wit, and when he smiled as he shook paws with the fox, he exposed his pearly white teeth.  He was a symbol of wealthy citizens everywhere, though tainted with snobbish feelings.
 “You the pilot I spoke to on the phone two days ago?”
 “Yes,” the fox answered in a dull tone.  He had a certain distaste for rich people, mainly because his family was middle-class and the upper-class kept looking down at them like a God looking at a mouse.  However, he wouldn’t mind being rich himself.
 “I’m Clark McHara, from the Bymatic Corporation.”
 The fox had heard of the company before.  Delivered some high-tech computers for them once.  The pay was good, but the computers took so much space in his ship that he had trouble moving around when the ship was in auto-pilot.  “My name is Jason.  What do you want to do with me?”
 Clark sat on the seat across the table from Jason, laying the suitcase on the table.  “I have a job for you to do, but it’s dangerous.  It involves going to Venom itself.  Will you accept?”
 “I’ve never been to Venom under Andross’s rule, but tell me more.  What’s the cargo?”
 “Well, there’s my luggage, and me.  I want to go to Venom.  You’re the best cargo pilot I could find around here.”
 “Why don’t you just go on a passenger jet or something?  I just haul cargo that doesn’t talk or bother me, except for your computers.”
 “Just two days ago, I’ve heard that all passenger jets are forbidden to enter Venom space, and that cargo pilots, even those serving Venom, must have a special landing code to get inside without being shot at.”
 “I don’t know any code.”
 “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I got the code with me.  Look, this is actually simple.  Just take me to Venom, and then leave.  That’s all.”
 “Then why did you say that it’s dangerous?”
 “Well, you know Venom pilots.  They often shoot first and ask questions later.  I’ve heard you got a custom-made ship.”
 “Not really though.  It’s just a Crusan-class cargo ship that had been remodeled to fit my needs and tastes.”
 “Is it a fast ship?”
 Jason grinned slyly.  “Fast enough.  Can fight back too.  However, since I’m going to be meeting Venom security, the pay is higher than usual.  Say about,....a million credit dollars?”
 Smiling, the ape opened the suitcase and showed Jason the money.  “How about two million, right now.  Once I get to Venom safely, you will have five million more.”
 The fox widened his iris-purple eyes and let out a gasp of shock.  “Sheez, after this, I might as well retire!  Alright then.  My ship should be ready now.  I accept the job.”
 “That’s what I thought you would do, my good friend,” he said as he stood up.  “I will follow you to your ship, and we’ll get going.  Oh, what is your last name, by the way?”
 “Wolfman.  Jason Wolfman.  I prefer J. Wolfman, but you can call me Jason.”
Chapter Two

 “I’m not greedy.  I just accept gifts when given to me, that’s all.”

          --J. Wolfman, neutral
 “Are you done yet?”  Andrew Olkonny impatiently asked his team leader in the Venom HQ East Garage.  Wolf O’Donnell poked his greasy head out of the Wolfen-II engine, his single eye gleaming.
 “Don’t you have anything else better to do than to bug me?  I’m busy fixing this jet, and I don’t like being interrupted.  Go away!”
 Andrew bit his lip angrily and crossed his arms.  As heir to the Venom throne, he had always hated being shrugged off by the bossy one-eyed wolf, yet he tolerated him because Wolf was the one who hired Andrew in the first place.  Before that time, Andrew was stuck doing office work, handling Andross’s infant military.  He loved flying far better than paperwork.  However, he was in Starwolf due to Andross’s insistence, and Wolf often grumbled about that.  Therefore, they never really got along with each other.
 It has been a month since Amy Johnson and Leon had journeyed together in Titania.  Major Johnson at the moment was off in a recon mission with five other jets under her lead around Sector Z, and Leon along with Pigma was sent off to rescue a Venom space station under attack near Katina.  Because the fourth wolfen-II was now a junk heap in Titania and the third one was under repair by Wolf, Andrew was getting tired of being grounded.  He never considered flying off some mission in another class jet, mainly because he was so used to flying a wolfen jet that he basically ignored the other ones.
 “Look, you’ve been fixing this darn thing for a week now.  Are you ever going to be finished?”
 Wolf grumbled angrily.  “Look idiot, you think I’m slow?  Well can you do this yourself?  If you can, please, go right on ahead!  If not, get the hell out of here.”
 Andrew shook his head, frustrated.  Without saying a word, he stormed his way into his quarters and laid down on his bed.  His room was highly fanciful, due to his snobbish, spoiled nature.  On all four corners of the room were lamps, all of them the same, that provided the only light for the room except for a lamp on his desk on the west side of the room and one located on an end table next to his bed.  On one side was a state-of-the-art computer that Andrew uses to organize reports and miscellaneous paperwork, and also to log in his dairy, which he writes on every night before going to bed.  On the other side was the bathroom, the doorway “guarded” by two mini fern trees.  The bed was on the side opposite of the main door, and above it was a painting of his uncle Andross posing, complete with a crown, which he rarely wears.
 Staring at the ceiling, he let out a sigh of frustration and anger.  He was heir to the throne of Venom, but the public viewed him more of a pilot than a future ruler, and Andrew knew that.  Even Wolf thought of him as incumbent to lead even a small squadron, let alone an entire military force and empire.  Sometimes, Andrew wondered that if Andross suddenly dies, he won’t be able to follow his uncle’s pawsteps, and not rise Venom to glory like never before.  Still, he looked forward to sitting on Andross’s throne, doing whatever he wished and no one would boss him again.  Heck, if someone calls him a moron, he would just simply snap his fingers and a prisoner would have a new person to talk to.
 Andrew was living in Aquas when he heard the news about his uncle’s exile to Edena.  Because he was Andross’s only known relative, Andrew decided to pack up and leave for the planet, and when Andross was busy building a military, he was faithfully on his side, helping whenever he could.  Being the only relative to the emperor does have it’s advantages, but it had gotten to his head, and the others began to ridicule him.  Andrew tried to tolerate them the best he could.  Just wait, he thought, just wait till I’m the emperor.  Then I will make you regret for ridiculing me.  Just wait!!
 A beep from the computer startled him.  He shot up from his bed and almost stumbled to the computer, and pressed the monitor phone button.  The computer screen flickered as it turned on, and the face of Andross watched his nephew straighten himself and saluted.
 “What is your command, Great Andross?”
 “I have just gotten a report that a brand new wolfen-II jet, to replace the one down in Titania, is now ready to go in the West Dock.  Therefore, you will launch in fifteen minutes for your next mission.  Since Wolf is not expected to finish his repairs soon, you will go without him.”
 “What do you wish me to do, Emperor?”
 “There is a raiding squadron of Green-class jets heading toward Zoness.  Fifty of them reported.  Because I have been pulling out most of my defenses in Zoness space to reinforce the situation around Katina, the remaining Invader-jet pilots will need all the help they can get.  Once you get halfway through, you are expected to meet Major Johnson along with five of her pilots for further assistance.  I’m not sure why the raiding party will be attacking Zoness for, but they must be destroyed.”
 “I understand, your Imperial Highness.”
 “Good.  Now go,” his uncle said, and the screen turned off.  Anxiously, Andrew dressed himself in pilot clothes quickly, and ran over to his new jet in a hurry.

 Meanwhile, two hours from Venom, an altered Crusan-class ship was cruising without worry toward the home planet of Andross’s empire.  Similar to the Great Fox in length but half in height, the ship could carry a couple tons of cargo, and while it wasn’t meant as a passenger ship, it could carry up to forty people.  The disk-shaped ship had four vertical wings on the very back; two on the top and two on the bottom.  Though the wings were colored gray, the rest of the ship was painted purple, and the engines on the back spewed off green flame that could propel the ship faster than any Invader jet.  The door of the ship was a ramp at the bottom center of the ship, and just on front of it was a large laser machine gun that could hide inside the ship itself and could destroy a Greenie with five blasts.
 The pilot of the Violet Vision tried to take a short doze amid the soft humming of his ship’s engines.  Jason had been flying this beauty ever since he first gotten into the delivery business, and he never wanted to let go of it.  It cost him a lot of money to alter it, but he had more than compensate it with his successful deliveries, though his loyalty to Venom or Corneria were mixed.  He doesn’t want to fight anyone, unless provoked.  He was never good on his shots, so he usually tries to talk his way out of a fight.  Still, he did shoot down a couple of jets however.
 The control room was a twinkling display of computers, blinking lights, several beeps, and radar.  Jason slouched on a black leather captain’s chair, not moving since the ship was on auto-pilot.  He yawned and scratched his right armpit.
 Clark came in the room from behind, eyes searching for something.  “Um, Mr. Wolfman, where do you keep the food?  I’m getting hungry.”
 “Down the main hall, all the way to the end, and then to your left.  Don’t touch the pretzels, Mr. McHara.  If you do then I’m going to change course and leave you all alone in Fortuna, freezing your red, furry butt off.  There may be many barrels of pretzels in the room, but I can count.  You understand me?”
 “Alright, alright.  I’m not a fan of pretzels, except for pretzel rods.  I like tornab crab better.  You like those?”
 “I never eaten any type of crab before.  The only seafood I like is salmon, trout, and hush puppies.”
 “Hush puppies?  They’re in the seafood group?  Oh never mind.  How long till we get to Venom?”
 “Two hours.  Why do you want to go there, anyway?  It’s nothing there but military bases, military factories, and a maniacal emperor.”
 “I’m a relative of Andross, so don’t insult him.”
 Jason stood up so quickly that he became a little woozy.  “What?  That can’t be!  Andrew is the emperor’s only relative!”
 “The only known relative, my dear Jason.  I don’t expect Andross to remember me, for I was just a tad of three when I last saw him.”
 “So you’re going to Venom for a reunion visit?”
 “Well, that’s not the only reason.  I have more important matters that I must speak to Andross.”
 “Well does anyone else know about this?  How can you prove it?”
 “No one knows about my true relation to him except for me, and I have my evidence.  Now I would love to chat some more but my stomach is more important so I’ll be going.  Don’t worry, I won’t touch your precious pretzels.”
 “And don’t touch my cola-coca either!”
 “Sheez, what a bad host you are.  With two million credit dollars with another five coming, you can buy all the cola-coca and pretzels you want.”
 “Don’t touch them, you hear me?”  Jason said firmly, sitting back down on his chair.
 Clark shook his head and left the room.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah....”

Chapter Three

 “I love my pretzels and I hate anyone who goes near them.  Last time someone took a bite out of them, he became a stain on the sidewalk of Fremak City.”

          --J. Wolfman, neutral
 Zoness was always a sad sight to see, since Andross conquered it.  The pollution was so bad that not many people lived there anymore.  Once majestic cities, such as Amy’s Vereana City, were now abandoned ghost cities.  The crystal-clear blue oceans were reduced to green muck, and it was so widespread that Andrew was disgusted at the sight of it even in outer space, flying his wolfen-II along with Amy’s Invader-II and thirty Invader-I fleas.
 “Any sight of Greenies yet, Andrew?”  The voice of Major Amy Johnson buzzed in the ape’s comlink.
 “Nope.  Not even in radar.  Looks like we got here early.  How does Sector Z look?”
 “Oh, same old thing.  Radiation, black beams, a red gas cloud in the shape of a Z...”
 “That’s not what I meant!”
 Amy laughed heartily.  “Oh, if you must really know-”
 “Greenies on radar!  8:00!” an Invader-pilot cut through the conversation.
 Andrew looked at the radar screen and spotted a V-formation of green blips coming toward Zoness from the left side.  “Lasers charged up!  Form ranks!”
 The thirty Invader-I’s along with Andrew and Amy lined up in columns, facing the invading Greenies.  In a taunting slow speed, they charged towards the green-colored Cornerian jets, the pilots’ trigger fingers twitching.
 Andrew spotted the Greenies up ahead.  While his wolfen-II was more superior, the Greenies might have a chance against the Invaders, even against an Invader-II.  If the Invader jets are blown out of space, but still wins, then how can Andrew face another squadron alone, if there was another one trailing this one?  “Increase speed to attack.  Fire on my command.”
 The Greenies fired first.  A laser struck an Invader I so fast that Andrew failed to notice the explosion.  “Fire!  Give it a go!”
 Space seemed to erupt into fire as lasers criss-crossed between the jets, and explosions rocked those close enough to hear it.  Andrew fired a barrage of lasers here and there, swerving and dodging through lasers and jets like a frantic rabbit being chased by a wolf.  A laser struck his left wing, blowing a short chunk of red metal off.  He shot four Greenies before he was struck again, this time damaging the right wing.
 He drifted around the fringes of the dogfight, trying to get stock of what was happening.  The Greenies and the Invaders were fighting an almost equal battle, and both of their numbers were diminishing.  Amy was still alive, adding a few more Greenies to her list of kills.  Andrew spotted a lone Greenie chasing an Invader and blasted his engines toward it.  Just before he could fire his shots, a black jet suddenly popped into view from out of nowhere.
 Andrew flinched upwards, his fingers pressing the trigger buttons.  The lasers struck the black jet, and Andrew saw it twirling toward Zoness, smoke trailing behind it.  Andrew was glad he had managed to shoot it down on such short notice, but then he realized that the jet was quite similar to an Invader jet.
 An Invader-II jet to be exact....
 Panic began to creep inside the brain of the ape pilot.  He scanned around, trying to catch sight of the Major, but all he could see were green and orange jets firing at each other.  With a tint of nervousness, he spoke on the comlink.  “Um, Major Johnson?  Can you read me?  Major Amy Johnson?”
 Nothing.  Only static.
 Oh dear.  Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.  Not knowing what to do, Andrew paid no attention to the dogfight around him, his worried eyes focused on the planet where Amy had crashed in.  He had noticed that the Invaders had a chance to win, so Andrew quit fighting and charged into the murky atmosphere of Zoness, hoping to catch sight of Leon’s girlfriend.  He could only hope that she’s still alive.  If she died, then Andross might have him on a stake for killing another high-ranking officer, that is, if Leon himself haven’t gotten his claws on him first.

 “Okay, Mr. McHara.  Now’s the time to panic,” said Jason rather cooly.
 The four Bolse fighters were on the tail of the Violet Vision, ready to fire their lasers at the cargo ship.  Venom was within sight, but the Bolse station was in the way, and the officers there are not accepting visitors at the moment.
 Clark, hopping mad, barked at the comlink.  “Why are you not letting us through?”
 “You are illegally attempting to enter Venom.  Turn away immediately or be fired upon,” the leader of the four fighters answered.
 “But I have given you the special landing code!”
 “I have my orders.  Leave within five seconds.”
 Clark was so mad that he couldn’t speak another word.  He could only mutter a few curses and then left the control room.  It was up to Jason to smooth things over, but he had already run out of options.
 “Listen, isn’t there any other way we can get through this?”
 The Bolse fighters responded by sending off a barrage of lasers, ripping off pieces of the Violet Vision.  Jason cursed at them indirectly and accelerated to full blast.  He knew that he could outrun Bolse fighters, but he might be arrested anyway.  After all, there was already a squadron of Bolse fighters coming right at him.  They take intruder problems seriously and quickly.
 Outgunned and almost surrounded, Jason must surrender or his pretzels along with himself would be extra crispy.  He shoved his comlink near his muzzle and yelled out in loud, frantic voice.  “I surrender!  This is Jason Wolfman of the Violet Vision!  I surrender!”

 Escorted by three Invader jets, Jason’s ship was sent to Venom HQ for the gray fox and his passenger to be arrested.  When the ship landed, the three escorts left for space again and the ship was already surrounded by lizard guards armed with machine laser guns and one of them had a bazooka in case Jason may try to blast off to escape.
 Clark mumbled to himself as he and Jason were at the door, the lizards impatiently waiting outside.
 “Well,” Jason said, still amazingly calm.  “Looks like this reunion of yours had gone off to a bad start.”
 “How can you be so calm about this?”
 “That’s just my nature.  I often try not to be scared.  Inside, I’m actually being frightened off my wits.  Well, it’s been nice knowing you.”
 Jason pushed a button on the wall, and the door went downwards, forming into a ramp.  As soon as it touched ground, three lizards came inside and pawcuffed both of them.  While Jason was cooperative, Clark actually tried to struggle with them.
 “Why are you doing this?  I demand an answer!”
 The lizard escorting him out bashed him on the nape of the ape’s head with the butt of his machine gun.  “Shaddup!”
 “I’m a relative of Andross!  I deserve not to be treated like this!”
 The rest of the lizards laughed.
 The one with the bazooka mocked him.  “Yeah right, ape!  And I’m Wolf O’Donnell!  Git these two fools to the prison.  Maybe three days of jail before the trial would shape up your senses, ape!”
 “I have proof!  Look in my luggage!”
 He was hit again on the back of the head.  “Shuddap, I say!” the same lizard yelled at Clark’s ear.
 One of the lizards that was in the ship came out.  “There’s no one else, sir.  It’s just the ape and the gray fox.”
 “Okay then.  Put this purple ship to Hangar 4.  It’ll be dismantled later.”
 Jason’s purple eyes grew wider, and for the first time, he too struggled.  “No!  Not my ship!  Don’t!”
 “You’re not in position to say anything!  Git these fellas to prison, now!”

 Another three hours had passed.  Andross was sitting on his throne, bored senseless.  It was one of those days that nothing interesting seems to happen, and if he would to sleep through days like this, he won’t miss anything.  However, he would soon know that this won’t be a boring day after all.
 A mongoose messenger burst inside the throne room, his face rather a combination of puzzlement and surprise.  “Your Imperial Majesty, we had just captured a cargo pilot and a passenger three hours ago.”
 “And this concerns me how?”
 “Well, the ape passenger claims to be of relation to you.”
 Andross sat up straight, eyes widened to attention.  Someone like this doesn’t come everyday.  “A relative of mine?  Other than Andrew, I have no relative.”
 “Well, apparently, this Clark McHara had evidence of his relation to you.  In the form of a photo album.  When I looked through it myself, it had a picture of you along with a female ape and two babies.”
 “You have that picture?”
 The messenger reached in his pocket.  “Yes, I do,” he said and pulled out an old, out-of- date photo and gave it to Andross.
 The confused emperor studied the picture slowly, realization creeping inside his mind.  Andross must be only twenty years old at the time of the photo being taken.  He was too young to have a beard, and his youth was captured neatly in the picture.  He must be a doctor at the time.  He seemed to be smiling, and had his right arm around the shoulders of a female ape wearing a beautiful yellow dress, and she was carrying two young apes, perhaps three to four months old.
 Andross recognized the female.  She was Andross’s first love, five years before he met Vixy Reinard.  The two babies must be his two sons,....but they were killed at a boating accident when they were three years old, along with their mother.  Andross was at the boat also, and he was the only one who survived.
 Or so he thought he survived alone.
“This Clark McHara, bring him to me now!”
   “Yes, my Lord,” the messenger said quickly and left.
 Alone in the throne room, Andross stared at the picture with a certain joy, but there was also a taint of shock and worriment that blended in with the joy.  If this Clark was that he thought he was, then he should be happy to see him.  However, why did it take so long for Clark to find him, if he had the picture all along?  How did he survive the boating incident, if he really was one of those two....
 The mongoose came back, along with a pawcuffed ape wearing silk clothes like a successful upperclass criminal.  The messenger was dismissed until further notice, and when Andross was alone with Clark, the younger ape bowed.
 “Where did you get this picture, Clark McHara?”  Andross demanded.
 “I had that for a long time, Andross.  I don’t remember where I got it.  Are you surprised, Andross?”
 Andross ignored the question.  “If you know me as a relative, then how come I have never seen you before?”
 “Never seen me before?”  Clark responded with puzzled eyes.  “You lived with me, my brother, and my Mom for three years.  Don’t you remember me?”
 Andross shook his head.  He was told long ago that there was no hope for his two sons to survive the accident.  Now, all of a sudden, here’s one of them, in the flesh.  “But the accident...”
 “I barely survived that.  Even at three years old, I was smart enough to know that a piece of driftwood can be helpful to keep my head out of the water.  Unfortunately, my younger brother failed to realize that.”
 “So that means you’re....”
 Clark’s eyes sparkled, and nodded.  “Yes, Andross, or should I call you...Father?”

Chapter Four

 “He may have some of my blood, but it takes more than bloodlines to become a relative of mine.”

         --Andrew Olkonny, Starwolf
 Andrew’s heart jumped when he saw the burning heap that was the Invader-II jet.  Amy crash landed on a sandy beach, the green muck that was the ocean nearby.  Andrew landed a few yards away and once he got out, he ignored the smell of burning metal and pollution as he ran toward the jet.
 “Amy!  Amy!”
 Andrew covered his eyes with his arms to shield the overpowering heat, and a sagging disbelief rushed into his mind.  He might be a murderer.  He rushed right back to his jet and pulled out a small fire extinguisher from inside his cockpit, and with it, he dosed out some of the fires around Amy’s cockpit.  When those fires were doused, the young ape could see Amy inside, silent to the world.  He doused out more of the fires, and donned some fire-resistant gloves before he could attempt to get her out.
 Because the cockpit canopy glass had shattered, Amy suffered some massive gashes on her face, as well as some burns from the heat of the fires.  Andrew grabbed hold of the lop-sided frame of the canopy and with a fierce grunt, could only make it budge an inch.  Desperate, Andrew went back to his jet again and grabbed a small crowbar.
 With the crowbar, Andrew managed to crack open the frame and took off Amy’s safety belt.  Since she had a lighter weight and frame, Andrew had little trouble picking her up and carrying her to a safe spot away from the destroyed Invader-II.
 Once he laid her down flat on her back, Andrew checked her pulse, his eyes a frantic display of nervousness.  After all, he wanted her to live, for him to live as well.  To his great relief, a pulse, however faint, was found.  He used a towel to absorb some of the blood from the cuts, and pulled out a small comlink that he carries in case he couldn’t use the one in his jet.
 “This is an emergency!  Medical assistance is needed!”  He barked at it, hoping someone would be nearby to hear him.
 “This is Tamnamk Base.  What is your position?”  A husky voice called back.
 Andrew scanned around, and spotted a city in the distance, almost covered by fog.  “Um, I think I see a city west from here.  I’m in a sandy beach, with a burning jet.  The pilot needs help with cuts and burns, and quickly!”
 “We will be there as shortly as we can.”
 Using the smoke from the burning jet as a guide, a medical transporter had reached Andrew and Amy two minutes later.  The two doctors quickly tended to Amy, bandaging her and had her on a stretcher.  Knowing that Amy might be safe, Andrew went back to his wolfen-II and flew into space.  He could only wonder what would happen if Leon hears about this....

 Now it is time for my next step of my master plan.
Clark McHara, oldest son of Emperor Andross the Great, took stock of his new abode
with a sense of triumph.  It was rectangular in shape, with white walls and red carpet.  A monitor phone with a direct line to Andross himself was laid on an end table next to the bathroom, and by his king-sized bed was a large drawer for his clothes and other personal belongings.  While he may used to live in a mansion back in Katina, falsely supporting Corneria, he liked this place better.  Once he would take all of his millions of dollars from Katina and to here, he would be firmly settled.
 Andross had already appointed him as Admiral of the First Fleet, but Clark had no need for a military position.  He loved war (his business had a side-product of biochemistry weapons), but he wanted to control more than a third of the entire Venom Navy.  He had bigger fish to fry.  He sat down on his bed, thinking up what he was supposed to do in his next step of the master plan.  He knew that Andrew was currently the heir to the throne, but that might change, now that Andross has a son with him.  Sure Andrew may not take it lightly, but what can he do?  He’s nothing but a spoiled moron.  Nothing can stop good ol’ Clark now.
 It was an accident that had caused Clark and Andross be separated long ago.  Andross was a doctor at the time, though he was still yet to be in the spotlight.  He and his family were on a boating pleasure cruise on Crystal River, somewhere in Corneria.  During the middle of the night, when they were all sleeping inside the large boat, a leak had somehow flooded part of the boat within seconds, and when Clark woke up, his head was damp with the flowing water.  Bawling for help, he awoke the others, but because they were all alone, there was no chance for help coming soon, and since it was dark, they had no idea where they were.  Andross, along with Clark’s mother, went up to the deck, and noticed that they were in the middle of a storm.  Just as Clark got up to the deck himself, he saw his mother being thrown off overboard by a large wave that had swept across the deck.  Andross grabbed hold of a rope before he could be washed away, and rushed back inside, taking his son with him.
 The rest of it was a blur of discolored memories.  Clark could recall seeing his younger brother drowning after the boat had sunk, and he was hanging on for dear life on a piece of driftwood.  He failed to see Andross, and he won’t see him for the next twenty years or so.  He floated on the river for four hours, and when it was daylight, he found his way to the shore, too exhausted to even move.
 An old leopard, named Trepna, was the one who found Clark sleeping on the damp sand.  He took him to his home, and cared for him till Clark went back to health.  However, Clark was grieving his mother so much that his mourning had turned to anger.  Andross, his own father, was the first and only suspect.  He always had a certain dislike for him.  He felt uncomfortable around him, like he was feeling some sense of evil in his father.  That was the reason why he had stayed with Trepna and not go back to Andross.
 Trepna died of natural causes when Clark was ten.  Clark was then sent to a wealthy foster family, and was educated to become a business person.  At the tender age of twenty, he became a millionaire, and his business of computers and weapons had grown and grown.  He had devised his master plan all along, and greed was one of the main factors of driving his ambition.
 Now, his reach for the goal was close, and Clark could feel it.  However, he knew that he must be cautious, keeping his plans a dark, dark, secret.  If Andross knew what was he trying to do, he would no doubt have his own son’s head be paraded on some street.

 Andrew, still not knowing what was happening in Venom, waited nervously in the lounge room of Deep Space 10, a space station near Aquas that serves as a base for Venom troops.  He could barely sit still on the leather yellow seats, all alone in the small room.  An hour ago, he had received word from Leon and Pigma that they wanted to meet him in this station.  Andrew had no idea what they wanted, and also if they heard about the incident with Amy or not.  The suspense and guilt was eating up inside him.
 The sliding doors open and the figures of Leon and Pigma came inside.  Pigma was being his usual self, munching on an eclair with chocolate and vanilla frosting on top.  He snorted a short greeting to his ape co-pilot, then sat down on a seat close by him.  Leon was acting differently.  He seemed to be under restraint, like he was trying to control something inside him that wants to get out and murder somebody.  The chameleon stood by Andrew, and when the ape stood up to face him, he could see the burning anger in his yellow eyes.
 “Andrew,” was all that Leon said.  It was the tone of his voice that made Andrew chilled to the bone.
 “Um, yeah?”
 “I have heard news from Venom.”
 Andrew almost gasped with relief.  Apparently, Leon haven’t heard about the other news yet.  “What is it?”
 “A visitor had arrived in Venom and met Andross.  If what I have heard is true, then you have a new relative.”
 “What?”
 “You heard me.  The visitor’s name is Clark McHara, and he’s the son of Andross.”
 Andrew shook his head, totally skeptical.  “That can’t be right!”
 It was Pigma’s turn to talk.  “I didn’t believe it when I heard it, but this Clark had proof, and now Andross believes him.  The Emperor had even appointed him as Admiral of the First Fleet, and we haven’t even heard that he has a military history or not!  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised that he will become the heir to the throne.”
 “There’s something fishy about this,” Andrew said.  “Why would this Clark would come to see his father after so many years?  Why haven’t Andross told me that he had a son?”
 Pigma swallowed the last of the eclair and shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know.  Why don’t you ask your Uncle when we get back?”
 “What’s going on in Katina?”
 “We lost,” Leon said coldly, his eyes burning straight at Andrew.  The ape was beginning to wonder that his luck might not hold for long.
 “Are there any other news?”
 Leon nodded.  “There is...one more matter that I must speak with you.”
 “Um, okay then.  Shoot.”
 “I wish, if I had my gun with me.”
 Andrew gulped soundly, eyes full of panic.
 Leon spoke again.  “About a few hours ago, I have received some news about some attack in Zoness space.  May I ask what had happened with Amy?  From what I have heard, it has seemed that you was the one who shot her down.”
 “It was an accident.  She came right in front of me and I thought it was a Cornerian ship.”
 “Did you bother to take a better look at it?” Leon said, reaching in his pocket.
 Andrew shook his head.  “Um, no I haven’t.  I’m very sorry about what had happened.  Amy is still alive.”
 With a quickness faster than Andrew’s eyes could follow, Leon pulled out a shock phaser and since it was already on, the chameleon stabbed the device’s shocking rods to Andrew’s chest.  While it may be too dull to get into the skin, the device had other ways to hurt someone.
 Andrew yelled out in pain and staggered back, holding his new burn wound.  Leon stayed where he was, turning off his phaser.  “She better be, you idiotic moron, or Andross will have to find another heir to take his place.”
 “You can’t kill me.  I’m the nephew of Emperor Andross!”
 “Try me.  Now, I’m going to Zoness to see a certain someone,” he said.
 At the spur of the moment, Andrew had no idea what Leon was talking about.  “Who?”
 Andrew immediately received another burn wound on the chest.  “Ow!!!”
 “You know who!!”  Leon barked, his yellow eyes gleaming with boiling anger.  With a disgusted grunt, he turned and marched out the room, muttering silent curses.  Pigma stood up, and without a glance to Andrew, followed the chameleon.  Andrew, smarted by the two burn wounds, sat down with a groan.
 “It was an accident,” he told himself.

Chapter Five

 “I’m innocent in shooting down Major Amy Johnson by intentional means.  It was purely an accident.”

         --Andrew Olkonny, Starwolf
 Clark first met Andrew in his quarters four hours later.  It was dark in the Venom Base, and the lights coming from the base’s many windows showed the evil place a majestical look to it.  The son of Andross wore a silk robe over his groomed body, his eyes filled with snobbery and triumph.  The nephew of Andross, since he never had the time to clean himself, still wore his pilot suit, which was in some areas burnt due to fires of Amy’s jet.
 “Hello cousin!  How are you faring?”
 “Is this some kind of sick joke, Clark?” Andrew accused, skeptical of even the fact of Andross having a son.
 “Why no, of course not.  Why would I do something like that?”
 “Is there something you want from Andross?  If you do, then please, tell him.  Then, after you do so, pack up your bags, pick up your oily tail, and haul yourself out of this planet, and also out of this side of the Lylat System.”
 Shaking his head, Clark walked over to him, and laid his paw on the shorter ape’s shoulder.  “Cousin, cousin, cousin...”
 Andrew roughly grabbed Clark’s paw and threw it off his shoulder.  “I’m not a relative of yours.  You are not Andross’s son, and therefore you don’t deserve the treatment around here.  Admiral of the First Fleet!  Bah!  You are of no relation to Andross, or to me.”
 “Andrew, you are jealous, you know that?  Jealous that after all these years, your social status will crumble, simply because you can’t take the competition.  You know why you was the heir to Andross’s throne?  Because you are the only relative.  Now, because my relation to him is more direct than you, I might be Emperor and you just can’t take it!”
 Andrew grabbed hold of Clark’s collar, grumbling fiercely.  Clark almost struggled, but allowed him to get close to his face.  “Listen to me, imposter,” Andrew said through his teeth.  “All the DNA testings in the world may prove your true relation to Andross, but to me, you are most definitely not of the same blood as him, or me.”
 Clark simply smiled as Andrew released him.  “Well, if I’m not of the same blood as you, then who am I?”
 “The biggest groveler and ass-kisser in this side of the Milky Way.  Watch your back, Clark, or you’ll find out the true meaning of blood-rivalry the hard way.”
 And with that warning, Andrew left the room.  Clark continued smiling, and straightened his robe.  He let out a small chuckle.
 “Stupid, moronic, spoiled brat.  Watch my back?  My dear Andrew, you better watch yours.”

 Two weeks had passed without any hint of Cornerian interference since the attempted raid on Zoness.  Amy finally awoke, her burns almost healed and wearing a brace due to a broken right arm.  She complained at first about a massive migraine, but it waned down as time went by.  Due to the lack of qualified surgeons, she was still having those headaches, and only her many years of experience with it had prevented her from going berserk.
 Wolf had finally finished the repairs on the wolfen-II, but Andross had no missions for the entire Starwolf team at the moment.  Leon had been irritable the whole time Amy had been in a coma, but the news of her becoming out of it was a great relief to him.  Pigma had finally decided to go on a diet, but quit after two days, complaining that he was starving to death, despite the fact that he was still eating two servings at each meal.
  Andrew and Clark had not once given each other a chance to even tolerate each other.  Andrew took him as a snobby ape who looks down at anyone in disdain, especially at Andrew.  Clark took the still current heir to the throne (officially for now) as a spoiled brat that threaten others with harsh words but keeping his gun on the holster, never to use it.  Andrew griped and complained about his new relative, but his uncle did nothing.  They rarely talked to each other except to argue, and they were never be quiet in the same room together except during formal dinners and ceremonies.
 While all this bickering had been going on, Andross had kept his mouth shut.  He seemed to enjoy the bickering, and once he smiled gleefully when his own son and nephew were yelling at each other so loud and violently that one lizard in the same room had covered his ears, rushing out of the room for fear of his safety.  However, despite their bickering, Andross had failed to see what did Clark want from him.  After all, Clark was already a rich ape when he came to him, so wealth was out of the question.  Power may not be it, for although he wasn’t officially heir, Clark was his son and therefore the true heir, so Clark could just be patient and the throne would be his.  There seemed to be nothing that Clark wanted, although there was the possibility that he just wanted to live with his own father.

 One afternoon, a huge banquet was about to start in the Main Royal Hall, which was just below the Throne Room.  No one knew what was the occasion was for, so they figured it would be a surprise.  The Hall was twice as big as the Throne Room, which was massive in it’s own respect.  It was red carpeted and each wall had one large painting of Andross posing, each of them different.  The one table in the Hall was constructed with marble and gold, and it was large enough to seat a hundred people, with three people on one end.  The chairs themselves had plush velvet green cushions and the arms were crafted with the finest maple.  On the Royal End of the table were three specially designed chairs, the third one finished just yesterday.  The two designed for Clark and Andrew had red cotton cushions, and the backs had white marble and silver.  The one on the center, for Andross (no one except Clark and Andrew were allowed to touch it) was similar, but the back was twice in height.  A silver hawk was perched on the top of the chair, it’s still, cold eyes looking down like a fierce leader.
 The ninety-four guests were all high-ranking officials, mayors, governors, and the Starwolf team.  Wolf, Pigma, Leon, and Amy all sat together close to Andrew, and Caiman, a Lt. Commander who was second in charge of the defenses in Area 6, sat on the other side from Wolf.
 The guests still had no idea on the occasion, but since they were served with fancy eel, blue tornab crab (the most delicate and rarest of all tornab crabs), and broam clams, they never bothered to notice.
 “Can I have some of that?” Pigma said to a lion mayor next to him, pointing at his clam with greedy eyes.  “I just had the last one.”
 The lion was almost disgusted by this pig’s ravenous appetite.  “Yes, that was your fifth serving.  Can you let me finish this?”
 Pigma grunted a reply and mumbled as he went back to his half-eaten eel.  From across the table, Caiman chuckled and shook his head.  “You know, with an appetite like that, I could only wonder how you could still fit in that wolfen-II cockpit.”
 “By special request, his is bigger,” Wolf remarked.
 Pigma tried to ignore that remark, but sneered at him.  “Say Caiman, what species are you?”
 “What species?  Oh, I’m a-”
 He was suddenly interrupted when Andross stood up from his chair, smiling and eyes gleaming.  “My faithful subjects, I wish to thank you all for joining me for this banquet.  Once again, I should congratulate the excellent chefs for these courses.”
 The crowd applauded, and stopped quickly when Andross prepared to speak again.  “Now, the reason for this banquet was to celebrate a new beginning.  As you all know, Clark Olkonny (Clark had dropped off his McHara name) is indeed my son, and the past two weeks have been absolute joy for me, for now I know that my line will continue on the generations.  He has been a great benefit to me and the entire Venom Military, and therefore, I shall give him a new title.”
 At hearing this, Andrew rolled up his eyes in disbelief.  Oh great, he thought, another stinking title for Clark to boast.  What now, Admiral of the First and Second Fleet?
 Andross motioned his son to stand up, and laid his massive right paw on Clark’s shoulder.  “I hereby declare Clark Olkonny,...Heir to the Throne of the Venom Empire!”
 Instantly, the guests went into an uproar of cheers and applauding.  Wolf, knowing how this would affect Andrew, simply laughed heartily.  Even Amy, blaming Andrew for shooting her down, found this amusing.  Clark beamed like a seven-year-old in a birthday party.  Smiling and nodding in surprise, he shook paws with his father, and glanced a how-do-you-like-this look on Andrew.  The former heir’s face was one of shock.  He dumbly looked at his uncle, too surprised to even gather up sense of what had just happened here.  Did Andross just stole the inheritance from him and gave it to that snobbish idiot, after only two weeks?
 The rest of the banquet went on smoothly, for most of the guests.  Andrew was hungry for desert, but ate none of the sweet gama candy and chocolate pudding.  His thoughts were too turbulent to let him eat.  Puzzling questions and hate statements warped through his mind.  He just simply stared at his meal, not expressing any emotion or thought.  Like a mourning statue, he sat for the remainder of the celebration.  One by one, the guests stood up, gave their regards to their Emperor and new heir, and left with full stomachs and little sympathy for Andrew.  When Wolf decided to leave, he went over to his co-pilot and shook his head.
 “Well, tough luck, pal!” he said, and left the Hall laughing.

Chapter Six
 
 “Yes, I did wanted Andross’s throne.  Power is something I always take great strides for.  However, that is not all I wanted.  There is something I want that goes much deeper than power.”
     --Clark Olkonny (formerly McHara), son of Andross
 Tonight is the night of Final Action.
 Clark paced and forth in his living quarters, waiting for a certain gray fox to come.  He was wearing his usual clothes of silk, but now he had on a green belt with a scabbard complete with a butcher knife, which he intends to use very soon.  It was around midnight when Jason Wolfman, escorted by a raccoon guard, came inside.  Clark wordlessly mentioned Jason to sit on the bed and dismissed the guard away.
 Two weeks of jail had not been nice to the purple-eyed gray fox.  His fur was tattered and ruined, and there were some scar marks on his face, and his shirt and pants were almost tattered.
 “Ah, we meet again, Mr. Wolfman.”
 Jason was not in a pleasant mood.  “Yeah, no thanks to you.  Where have you been?”
 “I take it things are not well with you?”
 Jason stared daggers at the ape.  “Guess, bone head.  I had to eat slop and stale bread and my next-cell neighbor was some kind of dalmatian who is so much of a lunatic that he thinks he’s a relative of that Bill Grey fella.  You haven’t answered my question.”
 “Oh, I’ve been around.  I’m now the heir to Andross’s throne.”
 To Clark’s surprise, Jason digested that fact rather easily.  “Looks like I need to get out more often, but the warden won’t let me.  What’s the knife for?  You cooking something?”
 “No.  Look, the reason why I brought you here is because in case my plan goes wrong, I need some help escaping.”
 Jason waved his arms as if he wanted something.  “Could you back up here?  Looks like I only heard the middle or end part of the whole story here.”
 “I’m attempting to murder the Emperor.”
 “I thought you’re the heir.  Can’t you just wait till Old Maniac dies?”
 “No!  Power is not all I want!  Revenge!  I want revenge!  I had grown up hating my father, Andross.  In fact, he could have saved my family, for it was his idea to go on the boating trip.”
 “Um, I have no idea what you’re muttering about, but go on.”
 “I want to kill Andross because he is a disease that deserves to die.  He was a fool to believe that he could conquer over the entire Lylat System.  When I take over his Empire, I will take this pitiful organization of losers into a new era, full of greatness and everlasting wealth and power.”
 “Ho-hum, sounds interesting, but say again about the part which I’m going to be involved in?”
 “I’m not foolish.  As always there is the possibility that something may go wrong.  Since you are the only one I can really trust with piloting experience, I want you to be the one to fly me out of this place in case something did went wrong.”
 “And get shot at and my ship blown to pieces.”
 “Don’t you like challenges and risks?  Look, if you don’t agree to help me, then you’ll just be going back to your cell and eat slop and stale bread.”
 “Well, I was getting used to the taste.  It’s better than eating fire and burned organs.”
 “You won’t see your pretzels again.”
 “Pretzels?  Hmmm, now you got me thinking.”  He then somewhat playfully put on a pondering face, and thought up the decision in a couple moments.  “Alright then.  Just get me the keys and at least tell me where my ship is and I’ll be waiting for you, fourteen guards chasing you.”
 “Dock 15.  Just be there when I come.”
 “But what if you succeed?”
 “You will still have your freedom.”
 “Oh.  I don’t want to say another word to that dalmatian again.”
 Clark gave him the keys, and with a wordless farewell, Jason left the room.  Clark could only accept his partner’s strange behavior.  “Boy, Mr. Wolfman, you really are obsessed with pretzels, are you?”

 Andrew couldn’t sleep.  The shock was just too much.  He laid flat on his bed, not moving, eyes not moving.  “Of all things....” he mumbled.
 He sat up quickly, a sudden anger rising in his head.  “Now here is this ape who barged into my life saying this and that about being the son of Andross, and sure I didn’t like it, but what can I do?  Uncle actually liked the pompous ass, and he told me to live with it.  In just two weeks, he managed to make my life a total Hell.  He complained about the food, the air around Venom, the soldiers that push him accidentally in the hallways, and even about his bed, which is twice the size as mine already.  He kissed up to Uncle so many times I wished I would get a knife and shove it down his throat!  And now,...now I have just been dethroned off my inheritance!  Oh dare this pompous idiot would come in here and demand it!  Oh sure he looked surprised at the banquet, but I wonder how much bribery he had done to his own father to get it.  He doesn’t love his father!  He’s just using him!”
 He stood up, grumbling and growling, anger becoming a force in his actions.  “Well, this stops now!  I’m going to see Uncle and demand this idiot to confess his true nature!  I will make Andross know that while Clark uses him for his own benefit, I would still faithfully stand by his side, wanting nothing!”
 He straightened his clothes and marched out, determined.  He never bothered to bring a weapon along.

Chapter Seven

 “I hate Andrew.  Enough said.”

        --Clark Olkonny, son of Andross
 The two tiger guards had their alert paws on their holsters when they spotted a robed ape coming toward them in the low-lit Royal Hallway.  The door they were guarding leads directly to Andross’s living quarters, so just being pawpicked for this was a great honor.
 “Halt!  Who’s there?” the guard on the right demanded.
 The ape came close to them, smiling.  He was holding two cups of steaming coffee.  “It’s me, Clark Olkonny.”
 The same guard widened his yellow eyes and quickly bowed.  “Oh!  Prince Clark!  I had no idea it was you!”
 “No need to apologize.  You were just doing your job.  Want some coffee, you two?”
 “Well, I’m sorry, but we are not allow to eat or drink on duty.”
 “Oh come now.  Don’t you think it’s rude to refuse a nice gift or gesture?  Especially from your very own future emperor?”
 With no choice, the two guards accepted the coffee and drank it.  Soon, their eyes became disordered and the guards went limp and fell to the floor.
 “Sleep tight, fellas.  The poison you had just drunk will keep you asleep forever!”  He made a short length of laugher before opening the door and got into the quiet, dark room.  He knew that Andross sleeps inside a sound-proof room, and wears ear-plugs while sleeping, so he never bothered to slow himself down by creeping.  The room may be low-lit, but it was good enough for Clark to see his father sleeping like a baby on his massive bed, complete with wooden bedposts.
 Clark pulled out his butcher knife, gleaming even with the lack of good light.  “Sleep tight, Father.  When I have my revenge complete and wearing your crown, I will foresee your burial!”
 He raised up his knife beside Andross, like an executioner would at his best moment.  His eyes yearned for blood and his mind screams revenge.  Andross continued to snore, his ear-plugs not allowing him to hear at all.  He didn’t hear Clark’s maniacal chuckles.
 “Hey!”
 Clark stopped and turned his head to the doorway.  It was Andrew.
 “Clark!  Stop!”  The younger ape yelled and his paw moved to grab his belt, but realized that he had forgotten to bring his phaser.
 Clark laughed.  “Fool.  When I become emperor, your head will be my most favorite decoration in the Throne Room!”  He ignored Andross for now and faced Andrew with beady eyes of a blood-wanting killer.
 Despite being unharmed, Andrew stepped forward, preparing to fight.  “Me?  A fool?  You can’t get away with this!”
 “Not if I accuse you for the murder!  After all, you’re the one upset about not being heir anymore, and the others hate you much more than they do me!”
 Andrew thought he had no choice but to fight him.  Cautiously, he inched himself forward, eyes watching the knife and paws raised in a fighting stance.
 Clark laughed, knowing victory would be his in this mismatch.  “You want to become mincemeat?  Fine.  I’ll be more than happy to make that wish possible!”
 He charged, knife over his head, the blade forward.  Andrew desperately rolled forward and passed his enemy safely.  Clark, undaunted, charged again, swinging the knife this time.  Andrew side-stepped, but received a tear on his shirt.  He punched Clark on the stomach and jumped away as the knife cut the air just inches from him.
 Clark prepared to swing again, but Andrew grabbed hold of the arm and dragged Clark to a wall.  He then smashed the knife-bearing fist onto the wall then Clark was forced to drop the weapon.  Andrew managed to throw a couple punches to Clark’s stomach before he was shoved away.  Disregarding his knife, Clark dived at him, his fists flying.  One of them connected to Andrew’s face, staggering him across the room, almost stunned.
 Andrew grunted when another punch hit him on the stomach, then another.  Growling, he grabbed hold of his relative’s shirt and ripped it off.  That didn’t help much since Clark ignored the torn up piece of cloth and continued beating on Andrew like a pure-blooded boxer.  The younger, lighter Andrew had only one trick left.  He grabbed Clark’s belt and with some inner- strength, managed to throw Clark a few feet away.  The heir landed on Andross’s bed.
 Now, when a 156-pound object falls on your stomach when you are sleeping, the normal result would be chaos.  Therefore, it wasn’t a shock to have Andross grunting in surprise, his eyes wide open.  Clark finally knew he had lost.  With Andross awake, he had little chance of winning.  Escape was the only thing that mattered now.
 Clark jumped out of the bed and pushed Andrew as he rushed out of the room.
 “What is going on here?!!”  Andross demanded, his eyes burning.
 “Call the alarm!  He tried to kill you!”  Was Andrew’s reply, and ran out to chase Clark.

   “Dum-a-dum-a-lee-a-do, do-do-da-la-dum-dee....oh, come on, Clark, get the murder over with!”  Jason muttered as he waited in his ship.  He sat on his pilot’s chair, alert for hearing any phasers firing or seeing an ape running like the dickens.
 He was glad that his ship was almost untouched.  The pretzels were gone though, and that had made him steaming with silent fury.  Someday, he wished, those Venomians would pay, for the two weeks of jail, the treatment in there, and eating his own pretzels.
 Suddenly, he heard the expected noises of footsteps on a hurry, and phasers firing lasers.  He spotted Clark, his shirt ripped off, running toward his ship with five guards chasing him.
 Gee, only five guards?  What’s wrong with the security here?  He remarked, and turned on his ship’s engines.  Clark ran inside, and the door ramp quickly closed behind him.  The frantic ape ran inside the control room, muttering curses.
 “C’mon, Jason!  Move it!  Move it!”
 “Alright, alright!  What’s with the shirt?  Andross’s girlfriend was in the same room?”
 “Just get the hell out of here!!!!”
 With lasers pounding the Violet Vision with no effect, the ship rose into mid-air, and with a blast of engines, began to sped off into space.  Five Invaders tried to chase it, but the purple-colored cargo ship was just too fast for them.  Clark McHara (he gotten back his old name) had escaped.

 It was peaceful and quiet around Katina space.  The white planet was a bright sphere as Jason, knowing that he was safe now, had stopped his engines (they were almost over-heating, due to the high speed), and drifted in mid-space.  Clark shook the paws of the pilot that saved his life.
 “I thank you with all my heart, Jason Wolfman.  As a reward, you will be given the five million I promised earlier plus a two million bonus.”
 “Well thank you.  Where do you want to be dropped off?  Katina?”
 “Well, I have another thing in mind.  Now, you did hate being inside that jail for two weeks, right?”
 “Of course.”
 “Well, we don’t we strike back?  We can hire mercenaries with my money, and this ship really is useful, once it gets a make-over with more laser gunners.”
 “Hmmm, now that sounds good.  You and me together as leaders of a team?”
 “Yep.”
 “We strike back Venom and give them what they deserve?”
 “Yes.  But I don’t want Corneria as our allies.  We just lead a team of neutral pilots.  Will you accept this idea?”
 “Yeah, I do.  I think those idiots shouldn’t get away with eating my pretzels.  Let’s do it!”
 They grasped their paws tighter as they shook, both of them smiling.  They now have a new dream:  making Venom pay.

The End

 Author’s Note
 As you might have already seen, Amy Johnson was a character in this story.  For those of you that haven’t read “Of Snow Leopards and Leon” yet (you really should), Amy is a real-life person.  If you really want her to be in one of your own stories, then you MUST have her permission.  Also, you may have noticed that I was in this story as well.  It’s almost a reflection of me.  While pretzels are my favorite food of all time, I’m not all that obsessed with it.  I can handle not eating them for four days straight, but afterwards, I might get a little cranky.