Fox turned on his heel once again; he'd lost count of how many times he'd gone back and forth pacing around. It wasn't doing much to help his frustration, but there wasn't much else to do – the cargo ship he and his companions (though 'burdens' would have been more accurate in his opinion) were on wasn't outfitted for passengers. Or a crew of any kind, for that matter. The whole ship was automated, following an autopilot at a leisurely pace by the standards of interplanetary flight. Everything about this situation, including the pay for 'guarding' an unmanned ship, was terrible – but necessary, to get back to a planet where Fox could arrange for his team to come pick him up and join him in regretting his recent decisions. Having to work with Wolf was bad enough, having things go south made it all that much worse.

And while an automated ship did mean no crew, and thus, nobody to identify them after the incident, it also meant they were all stuck in a maintenance area that essentially amounted to a large closet. Exposed pipes ran along the ceiling, occasionally rattling, gurgling or sloshing as fuel or coolant or whatever it was got pumped back and forth. Along the walls were maintenance panels, circuit breaker boxes, valves, and the like, and a single fluorescent light on the ceiling allowed Fox and his two associates to see in what would have otherwise been pitch black darkness. The floors were floor plate steel that vibrated unsettlingly any time the ship's engines fired to adjust course, but the engines being located directly below them was the only thing that kept the maintenance room at a reasonable temperature.

And of course, being an unmanned ship meant it had no bathrooms, a problem that Fox had been growing gradually more concerned about for a little while now. His need wasn't bad yet, but he had no idea how close they were to their destination...

Turning again as he paced, he shot a glare at Wolf, who was sitting in a corner and leaning on a thick pipe that was running floor to ceiling. He had a breathing mask over his muzzle connected to an air supply on his back, just like both Fox and the last member of the trio, Rocket – they were fortunate that the ship was pressurized, but not fortunate enough for it to have a breathable atmosphere. Wolf was pointedly ignoring Fox, as he had done for the entire trip so far, instead playing a game on his phone, preventing the room from being silent by instead filling it with jingles, beeps, and other sound effects from the game.

Fox's temper was wearing thin, and he shot a glare at Wolf, folding his arms and stopping his pacing briefly. "Can you PLEASE turn that down?"

Wolf glanced upwards without raising his muzzle, and pressed a button on the side of his phone, increasing the volume of the game even further. Fox glared at him and took a step forward, only for Rocket to pipe up, springing to his feet from where he had been sprawled against the wall. "Hey, hey, we all need to chill," Rocket insisted, stepping in between the two larger men with his hands held out, his voice slightly muffled by the mask over his snout.

Fox, however, wasn't having any of it. "How can I 'chill' when I probably have a criminal record now?" he asked rhetorically, turning and gesturing to Rocket.

"Relax, Fox," Wolf piped up without looking away from his phone, "We had helmets on, nobody will know it was us. Besides, there are ways to make criminal records disappear." With a chuckle, he added, "I can put you in touch with Leon, though he might charge you a little extra for all the trouble you've put us through before. And by a little extra, I mean a lot."

"It's your fault we had to bail in the first place, you-!"

"Hey!" Rocket cut in, "Remember the part where I said to chill?"

Turning back to Rocket, Fox snapped, "We wouldn't NEED to chill if you hadn't decided to snatch the extra case for yourself!"

Rocket gave a noncommittal shrug. "What's wrong with that? You've got a lot to learn about this line of work if you think nobody ever skims a little off the top."

"Oh yeah? Then why did they start shooting at us when you did?"

Sheepishly, Rocket chuckled and put on his best sly smile. "I guess they've got a lot to learn, too. Right, Wolf?"

Wolf shrugged, his gaze fixed on his phone. "Don't ask me, I'm a mercenary, not a weapons dealer."

"Clearly," Fox grumbled, rubbing his fingers against the sides of his head.

As Fox turned and began pacing again, Rocket exhaled deeply, as best he could with the breathing mask around his muzzle. "Okay, great. Now that that's settled, anyone got a spare bottle or something? I've got to take a piss and we're still an hour out."

"Just go in the hold," Wolf suggested.

"Fuck no, it's freezing in there!"

"Okay then," Wolf replied with a shrug, "Go down to the engine room."

"And boil alive?" Rocket asked incredulously. "No thanks."

Fox looked back and forth, but the maintenance room didn't have any shelves or other storage space, it merely gave access to important systems. The ship would only ever get worked on at a space station or a spaceport, after all. "I've got nothing," he grumbled. "Just try to hold it."

"Easy for you to say, you've got more room to hold it than I do," Rocket muttered. He went back to his spot against the wall and sat down again, and Fox silently sympathized as he watched the raccoon pull his legs closely together. Fox wasn't about to admit it out loud, but he was in a similar situation, and his constant pacing was an attempt to take his mind off of it. An hour was a long time, but there weren't many other options...

So, for a while, they returned to the original tense silence – or near-silence, at least, with Wolf's phone still making noise. Fox paced from one end of the maintenance room to the other and back again, passing by Wolf and Rocket on each trip. The only distractions came from the occasional rumble of the engines firing up below them, or a pipe rattling somewhere in the room. That wasn't so bad, but when something pumped through one and it made a sloshing sound, Fox couldn't help but wince a little, and Rocket squirmed in place. Fox couldn't be sure either, but it looked like Wolf would always shift where he was sitting each time that happened, too...

"Uuuugh," Rocket groaned after a while, crossing one leg over the other. "Maybe I should go check the cargo bay. There's gotta be a container or something in there I can use."

"I really wouldn't," Fox warned.

"Why not?" Rocket snapped, glaring. "Easy for you to say, you're not bursting to go over here!"

Fox stopped pacing and extended an index finger, pointing up towards the corner. Rocket followed his gaze and gave a groan; there was a security camera up there, held in a small semi-spherical transparent plastic dome. "Who puts security cameras on a fuckin' unmanned ship?" Rocket complained.

"People who want to record any evidence of stowaways or boarders," Wolf muttered, tapping at his phone.

Fox glanced over briefly, raising an eyebrow. "I was going to say for insurance reasons, but considering how shady the owner of this ship is, yeah, that's a little more likely."

"And you think they'll be in the cargo hold?" Rocket asked.

"That's where all the valuable shit is," Wolf pointed out. "If, say, some smart, handsome, roguish, and incredibly skillful mercenary and his band disable your ship and board it to loot the goods, you might just get a glimpse of them."

"Is that the voice of experience there, buddy?" Rocket inquired.

"Oh, me? Of course not," Wolf denied, shaking his head. "Besides, that only catches amateurs who don't know how to disable the camera system and destroy the footage before they leave. Which any suitably talented mercenary would know how to do." Finally lifting his gaze from his phone as he turned it off and put it away, he fixed Fox with a hard stare. "Right, Fox?"

Fox folded his arms and met Wolf's gaze. "When, where and why would I have learned how to disable a security camera system?"

"Well, if you had, they wouldn't have caught Rocket, and we wouldn't be stuck here-" Wolf began, but the pipe next to him gurgled loudly as some fluid pumped through it. Rocket groaned and Fox winced again, but Wolf's reaction this time was unmistakable as he bared his teeth, closing his good eye and squeezing his legs together.

"Having some trouble over there, big guys?" Rocket asked rhetorically.

"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Wolf growled in reply. "I do long flights all the time. If you're going to worry about someone, worry about Fox."

"Sure thing, whatever you say," Fox replied, rolling his eyes. "It definitely wasn't the famous Star Wolf who pissed himself on the street the other night."

Snarling, Wolf shot back, "That was... different! I'd been drinking! Alcohol goes straight through me! And besides, I remember a certain Star Fox with pants just as wet as mine."

"Can... can we talk about something else, guys?" Rocket groaned, putting his hands between his legs. "Please?"

Fox and Wolf glared at each other again for several seconds before Fox turned and resumed pacing. It wasn't getting any easier for him to avoid thinking about his bladder as more time passed, doubly so now that every time Rocket was in his line of sight, he could see the raccoon squirming in place. After several more rounds back and forth, Fox glanced at Wolf, who was watching him intently. "All done with your game?" Fox asked.

"Battery's getting low," Wolf answered. "Believe me, I'd rather be paying attention to that than your ugly face."

"Big words from a guy missing an eye."

"People dig scars. They make me look handsome. Not that you'd know anything about that. Maybe I should give you a scar or two so you can experience it yourself."

"Cool it, please," Rocket cut in again, though his voice was trembling and he wasn't looking at either of them as he rocked back and forth in his seat, hands between his legs.

Fox took a deep breath, the breathing mask amplifying the noise. "How far away are we?" he asked to try and change the subject.

Rocket checked his wrist computer, keeping his other hand firmly over his crotch. "Uh... about half an hour." He brought the computer close to his face, electing to use the end of his nose, covered by the face mask, to tap at the screen rather than risk taking his hand off his loins. "Ugh... but that's just to get to the planet," he continued, "Looks like space traffic is all backed up. We'll be stuck in a holding pattern until a landing pad is free."

"Just great," Wolf grumbled. "I'm going to be stuck in this glorified closet with two guys who can't make it to a bathroom."

"Funny, that's just what I was thinking, too," Fox quipped.

Rocket returned his hand to his crotch to join the other one, squeezing himself more firmly. "I ain't too proud to admit I ain't gonna make it," he groaned. "I'm just gonna go in the corner."

"And forfeit our pay?" Wolf immediately interjected, "I don't think so."

"The pay stinks!" Rocket pointed out.

"It's still pay!" Wolf retorted. "Or are you willing to cover our shares?"

Rocket glanced away and grumbled to himself. Fox started to pace again, but with his own needs growing, doing so was getting harder, so he leaned against the wall instead and tried to subtly cross one leg over the other. It wasn't subtle enough for Wolf to sneer at him, however. "Poor little Fox can't outlast a man half his size, can he?"

Fox narrowed his eyes at Wolf. "I would've gone before the flight if someone's trigger finger hadn't put us in such a hurry to leave."

"I wouldn't have had to start shooting if you'd done your role properly!"

"I could have if you'd told me what I had to do instead of expecting me to be telepathic!"

The floor under them shook from the engines firing again, a little longer than usual this time. It was accompanied by a sudden rush of fuel or some other fluid through the nearby pipes, and without Wolf's phone game drowning out some of the noise, all three of them clearly heard the gushing, sloshing sound passing by them. Wolf and Fox merely gritted their teeth, but Rocket couldn't handle it so well and wriggled in place.

"Oh no, oh no," Rocket whispered to himself, pressing both legs around his hands. He could feel wetness against them, but it seemed only a tiny bit of piss had escaped... for now, anyway. Taking heavy breaths within the breathing mask, he grunted and clenched his muscles in the hopes of avoiding a mess, trying not to think about how long he would have to hold it for.

"I'll send you an invoice later," Wolf muttered as he got to his feet, leaning on the big pipe next to him again.

"Yeah, don't act so smug, we'll see how long you last," Rocket sneered briefly before focusing on himself again. Silence fell over the room again as the ship flew onwards, but Rocket couldn't go a full minute without feeling some spasm overcome his lower body as his full bladder tried to empty itself, only held back by him clenching his muscles and squeezing his sheath through his pants as much as he could.

Just as Rocket was starting to think he might be able to make it, another rush of fluid through one of the overhead pipes filled the room with a sloshing and gurgling sound he couldn't ignore. "No, no, no...!" he repeated to himself, crossing his legs tightly, squeezing with his hands, and clenching his muscles, but he couldn't hang on any longer.

Warmth bloomed across his lap as piss gushed from his sheath and right up against the palm of his hand pressed against it, stopping it from shooting through the lower part of his outfit. Instead it spread out over the yellow-orange fabric, darkening it to a much deeper orange color, staining the entire area between his thighs. With him still in his sitting position it spread downwards, eventually reaching where his ass touched the floor. Some of the urine he couldn't stop the flow of spread further around his rump across the fabric, soaking his fur underneath, while some of it leaked out completely and onto the steel floor, the puddle spreading out from him meandering between the raised parts of its surface.

"Tch... should've known the little guy wouldn't make it," Wolf muttered disapprovingly, even though his thighs were pressed closely together around his own sheath as he did his best to keep his cool. Turning his head to Fox, he taunted, "At least you outlasted him, huh? Now you'll only be partly embarrassed instead of utterly humiliated that someone half your size could hold it longer than you."

"Keep talking, Wolf, if that's what helps you hold it," Fox muttered, undaunted by Wolf's verbal jab. Despite his attempt at stoicism, Fox had his own personal doubts, his personal needs having been made worse by Rocket's accident. He spared a glance over to Rocket, seeing the yellow puddle under him still spreading out, the raccoon defiantly keeping his hands over his crotch perhaps in the hopes of stemming the flow – if so, he was clearly still unsuccessful as he groaned and continued to piss himself.

Rocket's bladder emptied out eventually, and he slowly pulled himself to his feet to avoid having to sit in his own puddle, though it did make the remaining excess urine saturating his leg coverings flow downwards, further staining the insides of his legs. Fox and Wolf went back to watching each other, in a silent contest of wills to see who would outlast the other, both trying hard not to let their desperation show as they made every effort to ensure any little movement they made looked natural.

"Fuckin' finally," Rocket muttered after some time, while looking at his wrist computer. "No telling how long we'll be caught in the holding pattern for, though."

"We'll see if Fox can hold longer than the ship does," Wolf muttered. Fox didn't even grace him with a reply this time, partly from not wanting to escalate again, and partly because he needed to focus on not proving his rival right.

"Wish I could at least see what's going on out there," Fox muttered after another minute. He was bouncing on his feet slightly, trying to make it look like a normal motion.

"I can toss you out the airlock if you want a look," Wolf volunteered, and Fox rolled his eyes.

The hum of the engines underneath them suddenly got a lot quieter, which meant that the next time one of the pipes gurgled, it was that much louder. Fox gritted his teeth again and, abandoning his attempt to be stoic, grabbed his crotch through his pants with both hands before he could lose control, his tail hanging down behind him. He expected Wolf to make some comment, but Wolf apparently was in dire straits of his own, though he had only one hand gripping himself through his pants while the other rested on the pipe next to him.

"Yeah, I told you two not to act so tough," Rocket muttered, watching both of them. "Where's all your stupid short jokes now, huh? Being bigger than me just means you're gonna make a bigger mess of yourselves in a minute."

"I-" Wolf began, but shuddered and gave up on his retort. Fox took heavy breaths, crossing his legs over his hands and bouncing in place, desperately wanting to make it to their destination. They were already there, they just needed to land!

"Any idea how long, Rocket?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know, I can tell you how many other ships are out here but I have no clue where we are in the queue," Rocket replied matter-of-factly. "So get comfy."

Fox did his best, shifting from one foot to the other, taking what joy he could in watching Wolf squirm across from him. Yet for all his efforts, it was for naught in the end, as what started as just a tiny squirt was only held back for a second by a clench on Fox's part before erupting into a full-blown torrent. Grunting in defeat, Fox slumped against the wall behind him as his piss poured down the insides of his pant legs, drenching the fabric and darkening it heavily. It spread out much more than it had on Rocket, and Fox could feel the splashback soaking his entire crotch, sheath and balls as he kept his hands between his legs, but he didn't dare move them out of the way, even as the hot fluid dripped from his hands and onto the floor.

Wolf grunted, staring with one narrowed eye, before he suddenly gave a laugh just as Fox felt his leak come to an end. "What am I doing?" Wolf wondered aloud, "I don't have to prove anything now that you've already made a mess of yourselves. I'll just go in the corner and save myself-"

As he began to walk away, Fox reached out and pushed Wolf back against the wall with one wet hand. "I don't think so, Star Wolf," Fox taunted.

Wolf snarled and immediately grabbed onto Fox's arm with both hands to shove it away – but that proved to be a mistake. Without his hands on his crotch any more, he couldn't hold in his pee, and it began gushing from his sheath in a hard jet, splashing on the inside of his leather pants. Howling in annoyance as much as he could with the breathing mask on, Wolf returned his hands to his crotch to grip himself but it was too little, too late.

All he could do was stem the flow a little as he lost control and his bladder emptied into his pants, sending piss pouring down the insides. The leather didn't visibly stain, but he could feel his fur soaking through, making him shudder heavily enough for both of the other two to notice. Despite his best efforts to clench and squeeze himself, his hot urine continued to pour down his pant legs until it reached his boots, dripping into them and soaking his feet, making a loud squishing sound every time he shifted his weight at all.

"You'll pay for this, Fox..." Wolf growled, squirming from the wetness covering the insides of his legs all the way down to his feet.

Fox merely chuckled, and as Wolf's stream trickled off, the floor vibrated again as the engines fired up once more. "Finally," Rocket muttered. "Time to land."

"At least I won't be wet for very long," Wolf grumbled.

"Eh, we've still got to land, be moved to an unloading bay, have the crew come over and let us out..." He gave a shrug. "I told you I wasn't gonna make it, we're still going to be here for like another half hour, at least."

Wolf narrowed his eyes and snarled in frustration before leaning against the big pipe again. "I'm surrounded by fools," he muttered, reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone.
