Prologue - Corneria
Heat. Steam. Men shouting. Boots clanking on metal. Turbines spinning up. Chains clinking. Floor rumbling. It all cascaded into a massive, chaotic symphony of noise, echoing inside the hangar bay as Venomian soldiers rushed about doing their jobs. A tall, green crocodile stood off to the side, his crimson Venomian uniform as crisp and fresh as his young face. Until a few minutes ago, he'd been looking forward to this moment. He wanted action. He wanted adventure. He wanted glory. And he couldn't have asked for a better place to find those things. His ship, the Attack Carrier, descended down through Corneria's atmosphere at this very moment, ready to help Venom claim final victory in the Lylat Wars today. In just a few more hours, it would all be over.
So why were his legs quivering?
"Hey Forklift Boy!" An enraged gorilla officer jumped in his face. "What the hell are you just standin' there for?!"
The young crocodile stumbled backwards, almost knocking over his munitions cart.
"Get your scaly butt over there!" The ape jerked a finger towards two fighters queueing up on the hangar's launching rails. A whole slew of other crew members were already swarming over the marked safety line towards the craft, leaving him behind. "Move it! You're gonna miss the end of the war!"
"Yes sir!" Forklift saluted with a shaky hand, as he pushed the cart over to the nearest fighter.
Sliding underneath, he opened a panel beneath the ship's wing. In went the power cell for the laser cannons. However, it wouldn't quite fit, the cell not latching into position like it was supposed to.
"What's the matter, Forklift?!" his gorilla superior hollered at him. "Hurry! Those things are gonna be open soon!" He pointed at the fighter bay's doors. "You wanna get pulled out with the fighter launches?!"
"N-no sir!" The rest of the fighter crew worked like machines, getting their own tasks done in mere seconds. Soon he was the last person left, the others having already run back behind the line. At long last the cell clicked into place, but Forklift couldn't shut the hatch. It was like his hands weren't listening to his brain right now.
"Hurry the hell up, Forklift!" the gorilla called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. "We've got four bogeys headed our way! Arwings!"
Feeling everyone else's eyes burning on him, Forklift finally got the hatch closed. The croc moved away from the fighter and –
"Forklift you moroooooon! Get that damn cart out of the way!"
Growling, the croc spun around, yanking the cart away from the fighter. Relieved to finish, he wiped a handkerchief over his face and took a short breather.
He still couldn't believe he was here right now. After basic they sent him to waste away back on Venom, manning a forklift and moving boxes in a boring warehouse somewhere. Hence his nickname. After so long in that place, it was a dream come true when a man in a crisp officer's uniform walked in a couple weeks ago, asked for him by name, and told him to report to a shuttle headed for this carrier the next morning. The guy's name was Wagner or something; he couldn't remember and didn't care. This was the kind of work he'd imagined when he joined Venom's military.
But since getting his wish, Forklift learned he lacked experience with all the new jobs he had to do on the Attack Carrier, only getting a couple days' training on this ship's operations before they got sent to Corneria. Why they'd kept the training so quick and worthless, he didn't know. But at least now he'd get to see the Venomian military in action. Forklift smiled as he waited for the fighters to launch.
A crackling sound echoed through the fighter bay as speakers switched on. "Deploy all units! Charge!" the captain bellowed over them.
The hangar's armored doors whooshed open in just two seconds, a blast of salty, wet air entering the room. Forklift looked out at Corneria for the first time, glimpsing the blue sky and puffy white clouds floating past, while an endless ocean spread out below. So much blue… Nothing like Macbeth. It dazzled his eyes. How sad the Cornerians wouldn't just surrender despite being outmatched. Now their gorgeous planet would have to be destroyed.
The two readied fighters blasted out through the open doors, the howling sound assaulting his ear drums. Forklift winced, but the sight looked amazing and— Blue lasers entered the hangar bay through the open doors, someone outside shooting in. Something exploded next to him, knocking him to the floor. Dazed, Forklift started climbing up, but an intense heat scorched his back. Sparing a glance, he saw his crisp new uniform was on fire. Forklift cried out, dropping back to the floor, rolling as hard as he could. It wasn't as bad as he thought though, the fire going out quickly.
While he tried to stand, the bogeys outside fired into the hangar again. A catwalk split in half, sending several soldiers falling and screaming three stories to the floor below.
What the hell was all this? All this carnage all of a sudden. Sure he wanted action, but he never expected to be in danger on a ship like the Attack Carrier. This thing had a quad missile launcher, powerful beam cannons, and an entire fighter wing. And yet four enemy fighters managed to get past all of that and light them up like it was nothing. Who the hell were those pilots? The hangar door slammed shut, although he could still hear laser shots pinging off the exterior armor.
"No sleepin' on the job, boy!" Someone picked him up off the floor. He found himself face to face with the gorilla officer again. "Get more power cells! Hurry!"
He looked at the collapsed catwalk, hearing screams of agony. "But what about the others and—"
"Forget 'em! You've got a job to do!"
A crane whirred overhead, picking up two fighters from large racks built into the sides of the hangar. Within seconds, the hoist latched them onto the launching rails.
"I've got a present for ya!" the captain called out over the loudspeaker again.
Remembering what happened the last time, Forklift held his breath. The hangar bay doors flew open, but the blue lasers razed both mounted fighters before they could even take off. They exploded in a blinding flash. Forklift flew through the air, right until his back slammed into a pole a split second later. Falling to the floor, Forklift screamed, the pain washing over him like torrential waves. Alarms blared, flames spreading fast as debris from the exploded fighters scattered around the room. Forklift tried getting to his feet, but everything from his legs down wasn't responding. My spine, is it broken? His gorilla superior was gone.
Desperate, he grabbed for the pole he'd hit, trying to use that to stand. Before he could, a loud screech filled the air, the floor tilting beneath him. It reached a sixty-degree angle. He didn't have the strength to hold onto the pole, helpless as he slid downwards. The wall (now the floor) rushed up to meet him. Forklift landed right on his already-broken back, sending a fresh wave of sheer agony through him. Curled on the floor, he could do little but moan and cry. What the hell was he doing here?
Water splashed over him. It felt pleasant across his smooth scales, the pain forgotten for a moment. But his brain reminded him he should not be getting wet inside a starship's hangar bay. Looking up, he saw water flowing in through the open hangar bay doors, now above him. The water came down like a waterfall, flooding the room with several feet in as many seconds. And the flow kept getting bigger, the hangar door tilting back down to allow in even more. He noticed the water tasted salty in his mouth too. We're sinking into the ocean! He started paddling with his clawed hands, desperate to keep himself afloat. Being a crocodile, his body was built for swimming, but with a broken spine everything from the torso down was just dead weight now. Paddle as he might, he just couldn't keep his head above water. Around him, the other soldiers screamed as they swam for their lives, debris floating in the foamy water. The entire compartment submerged in less than a minute, darkness overtaking everything as they descended deeper and deeper into the sea. Soon, Forklift couldn't even see his snout in front of his own face.
Just a few minutes ago he'd been so excited to be here, ready to enjoy a glorious triumph over Corneria along with everyone else here. Now he felt like a fool. This couldn't be happening right now, could it? But the dwindling oxygen in his body and every fresh jolt of pain down his back reminded him this was all too real.
Still he kept swimming, pushing as hard as he could through the pain to get to where he remembered the open hangar door was. He could breathe underwater much longer than most other species. But the longer he stayed in the dark, the more he lost his sense of where he was. Was he still inside the compartment? Or outside? How far down did they go? With the darkness in every direction, it felt like he was just swimming in place no matter how hard he paddled. Being able to survive underwater longer felt more like a curse now. Every second seemed to stretch into hours.
As his body tried to hold onto what little oxygen he had left, his thoughts became sluggish and his movements slow. It wouldn't be too much longer now.
Dad… I shouldn't have run away. We didn't get along or agree on much of anything, but I can see now. You really did love me, even if we were at each other's throats all the time. I love you, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…
His body went limp in the dark water, a gaggle of bubbles exiting his mouth.
