Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Fox characters, locations, etc., only those that I myself have created. I also do not own any L&S characters, locations, etc., except for those that I myself have created. This includes those characters appearing in the story that have been created by others, and are being used in this story with their creator's permission.
This story contains depictions of violence, coarse language, and some suggestive themes. Readers who are offended by such material should refrain from reading this story.
LazarusA fan fiction by: knightcommanderPrologue: Abominations
The far outer rim of the Lylat System was as desolate as the hottest deserts of Titania, and just as dangerous. The region, which ran along the farthest range of Lylatian territory, was peppered with asteroid belts, comets, deadly red voltaic nebulae which could shock passing starships into powerless metal hulks, radiation belts, and bloodthirsty pirates eager to prey on the giant interstellar freighters which plied the trade lanes between Lylat and the Venomian Republic, the newly formed government built from the ashes of Andross' empire. It was the latter that required both governments to regularly patrol the border between their respective parcels of space, guarding the trade lanes that formed the lifeblood of both economies.
One such vessel skirted around the edge of a particularly active voltaic nebula, it's two rear mounted plasma engines spewing purple exhaust as they drove the ship at one-quarter impulse. The slow speed was necessary to give the large cruiser time to maneuver the tight confines between the voltaic nebula and the equally deadly radioactive nebula, glowing with a sickly yellow hue, off the ship's starboard bow. Unlike most other starships of the Lylatian Navy, with their streamlined hull shapes and various sharp angles and ends, this ship was blocky and more akin to a Venomian ship of the Lylat War. The five hundred foot long hull was Y shaped, and the bridge area of the hull tapered in a half rhombus shape. An array of small laser batteries dotted the superstructure; its heavier weapons were concealed within the hull itself and were only deployed during combat. The armor plates of the hull were painted a dull, battleship gray. This ship, the L.S.S. (Lylatian Star Ship) Collin Young, was one of the last of the aging Ulysses class medium cruiser, intended for long range patrols and ship to ship combat. With it's simple, easy to maintain design, the Ulysses class became a stable of most Lylatian fleets, and over a thousand of them were built during their hundred-year service run. Now, with the emergence of new, more powerful classes of cruiser, the venerable old Ulysses ships were being retired in their favor, and in the interests of reducing costs by not upgrading them.
Indeed, this patrol was to be the Collin Young's last cruise. As soon as the venerable old ship returned home to Lylat after a six month patrol, she was scheduled to be decommissioned and sent to the naval yard at Hira 4, near Sector Y, where she was to be "mothballed" along with the thousands of other decommissioned ships that made up the "ghost fleet". The idea of their old home being put up with the other lifeless hulks the made up the mothball fleet filled her crew, many of whom had served on her since the Lylat War, with a sense of deep loss.
None felt this more than the Collin Young's commanding officer of five years, Captain Neil Lovell. He joined the crew of the Young as a young lieutenant, and slowly worked his way up till he was made the ship's commanding officer. As the ship's executive officer during the Lylat War, Lovell, an forty-five year old brown bear who's headfur was beginning to develop a gray tint, had served in some of the most vicious battles of that conflict, which prepared him well for the equally vicious naval battle around the Aparoid homeworld, where the Young and its crew were tested to the limit. Despite heavy damage, the ship and her valiant crew survived. Now, the ship's illustrious career was coming to an end.
"We're clear of the nebulae, sir." The voice of the ship's navigation officer, a young hare junior lieutenant, sounded. Like the outside of the ship, the workspace inside the ship was utilitarian, as opposed to the more comfortable surroundings of newer ships. The metal bulkheads were uncovered, and there was no carpeting. The bulkheads were painted white, and the floors coated blue with black no-slip covering in the middle of gangway. Every once in a while, and computer terminal appeared, adding a splash of color to the otherwise drab interior. Only the bridge served as an exception, with dull, worn rugs on the blue floor, and boring leather chairs at workstations that while unappealing to the eye, were comfortable. The drabness was lightened somewhat by the crew's blue coverall day uniforms. Lovell sat in the middle chair, looking out the ship's square bridge windows.
"Come around to course oh six three." He ordered the helmsman, a tabby colored feline ensign with black headfur. The ensign acknowledged and brought the ship to the course that Lovell had ordered. "Increase speed to full impulse." Again the order was acknowledged, and the crew felt the ship heave just slightly as the engines increased their output and brought the ship to speed.
"Ops, report." He ordered again.
"Nothing on sensors, sir." The ops officer, another feline ensign, this time with solid black fur, reported to him. "All systems are green."
"Increase sensor radius to full." He said. "I don't want any of the bastards hiding out there to stay hidden." He said, referring to the pirates that they had been hunting. So far, they had capture three pirate cruisers and their crews. Piracy, which had once terrorized the area, was on the retreat. Ships like the Collin Young had driven the skull and crossbones out of the area for good.
The ops officer punched some keys on his keyboard, increasing the radius of the ship's powerful sensors. At full strength, they could cover an area of almost a light year around the vessel. The ops officer kept a careful eye on the sensor display, watchful for any signs that could indicate pirate activity or a ship in distress. Patrol duty in this sector was dull and monotonous, and the bridge crew found it increasingly difficult to maintain their concentration as the hours ticked away. Thankfully, they were due home the next day, and would begin the hyperspace jump back into Corneria orbit in another couple of hours.
The ops officer was thinking longingly of his new wife back home, when an alert sounded on his console. He peered at the sensor scope, and was greeted by an unidentified ship appearing on the scope.
"Sir, we have an unidentified ship, bearing two one." He said. Captain Lovell was jarred from his daydreaming by the officer's voice.
"Pirates?" He asked.
"Not sure, sir." He said. "The sensors can't identify the ship. It might be they turned their transponder off." He said, speaking of the device installed on all ships that put out a signal that could be read by sensors, giving the ship's name and registry number. Lovell nodded.
"The only reason a ship would turn off its transponder is if it's stolen." He said. "Have there been any reports of ships being seized by pirates recently?" He asked.
"No sir, not recently." The communications officer, a female raccoon lieutenant, said. "Doesn't exclude the possibility that this one could have been captured and not yet reported missing." Lovell nodded.
"How far away is the ship?" He asked. The ops officer looked at the scope.
"About two light years, sir." He said. Lovell nodded.
"Let's go check this out." He said. "Prepare to jump into hyperspace." He said. The ops officer closed the bridge blast windows, and the navigation officer fed the coordinates of the mystery ship into the navigation computer. "Coordinates locked." He said.
"Activate the hyperdrive." He said. The helmsman punched a button on his console, which activated the hyperdrive. Using the coordinates fed into the navigation computer, the system automatically put the ship on the proper vector, and opened a gate into hyperspace. A few seconds later, the ship vanished into the gate, leaving only empty space.
--
The hyperspace trip was a short one. In two hours, the Collin Young emerged from hyperspace in a burst of green light. Captain Lovell immediately had the sensors scanning full blast for the mysterious ship, and it wasn't long until it appeared from behind an asteroid.
The entire bridge crew gaped at the sight of the massive ship that materialized seemingly from nowhere. What struck them the most was the shape of the ship's hull, which they would later describe as "some sort of mutant manta ray". Indeed, the massive curved wings that sprouted from the ship's bow gave it the appearance of some massive marine predator. The torpedo shaped hull was pained jet black, punctuated by red markings forming twisted shapes and forms that Lovell and his crew could only guess the meaning of. There didn't appear to be any external armament.
"Scan the ship." Lovell ordered. The ops officer gave the massive ship a once over with the Collin Young's sensors.
"Hull consists of duranium allow with no signs of any composite armor plates. There's no armament either." The ops officer replied. "This appears to be a civilian vessel, probably a cargo freighter. There are no life signs, but there is a dampening field emanating from somewhere in the center of the ship. I cannot isolate the source at this time. All of the ship's systems except artificial gravity are down, and there's minimal power."
"Attacked by pirates?" Lovell asked. The ops officer shook his head.
"There's no sign of damage to the exterior of the ship, or any signs that the ship has been boarded. All the damage appears to be on the inside of the vessel." He said.
"Possibly a mutiny." Lovell's executive officer, a gray haired raccoon Commander named Joseph McCleach, spoke up.
"That could explain why we have no life signs." The ops officer said. "The crew overpowered and killed the officers and then absconded with the cargo, looking to make a quick buck." He said. Lovell nodded.
"We won't know unless we send someone aboard." He said. "I guess it's time to give Bock a call."
--
Bock, as it turned out, was a broad shouldered German Shepherd with a rough looking face that hid a warm and patriotic heart. The most striking thing about him was the uniform he wore. Rather than the standard blue coverall uniforms of the Navy crew, he wore the gray battle dress uniform of the Lylatian Marine Corps, the four overlapping pentagons with center starburst of a Major stitched onto his collar. Right now, he wore a worn expression on his face. Space travel was not his forte, but it came with being a Marine. His company, part of the Fourth Marine Regiment, had been assigned to Collin Young practically since the ship was commissioned, and had seen the worst the Lylat War and Aparoid invasion had to throw at her. Now that the ship was being decommissioned following this last cruise, his unit was due to be reassigned to another ship, a prospect that made him feel like a child before a big move.
Bock entered the bridge. "You called me, sir?" He said, showing respect for Captain Lovell's senior rank, despite the fact that they served in different services.
"Evening Major." He said. "It would appear we have ourselves a mystery." He said, pointing to the ship that had appeared in the bridge windows.
"And you would like my Marines to solve it." He said with a smirk. "What's the situation?"
"The ship's power is operating a minimum capacity, and most of the systems are disabled due to internal damage." Lovell said. "That includes life support."
"Guess we'll have to suit up for this one." Bock said. "Any potential threats?"
"We're working on the theory that the ship was taken over in a mutiny, and the crew escaped with any cargo they were carrying." Lovell said. "We don't detect any life signs, and it's unlikely anyone would have survived when the life support system failed." Bock nodded.
"We have, however, detected a dampening field, so there is the possibility of survivors." Lovell said.
"Or mutineers." Bock said. "With that, my team is going in armed." He said.
"My sensors have gotten a layout of the ship for your team." Lovell said. "If anyone gets lost, it's time to send them back to basic." Bock grinned.
"I'll have my boys suited up and ready to go in a half hour." Bock said, saluting. Lovell returned the salute, and Bock left the bridge to ready his men.
--
"I hate these damn suits." Lieutenant Michael "Caz" Cameron said as he slipped the Marines' Mark 23 Combat Pressure Suit over his BDU. The Mark 23 was designed for entering ships that had lost their life support due to a breach or a power outage, as was the case for the mysterious ship. The suits were all white, with the exception of the Marine seal on the left shoulder and the Fourth Marine Regiment patch and Lylatian flag on the right shoulder. Despite being pressure suits (commonly referred to as space suits, although they were not used exclusively in space), the suits were remarkably thin, allowing the Marines maximum range of motion in combat situations. Despite this, the suits often felt tight and uncomfortable, a situation that was being rectified in the Mark 24 suits that were due to replace the Mk 23s in the next few months.
"Be thankful. It beats not being able to breath and dying of suffocation." Captain Thomas Daniels, a thirty year veteran of the Marines, said as he readied his weapon, a standard A6 blaster carbine with a SOPMOD (Special Operations Modification) configuration, consisting of a holographic targeting sight for increased accuracy, a detachable foregrip for stability, a laser range finder, and a mini computer for the sight which analyzed information fed into the sight, which told the soldier what part of the body he was aiming at and his chances of hitting, further improving his efficiency.
"They could have at least put a cooling system in this model." Another Marine, Lieutenant Antonio Juarez, complained as he loaded extra packs for his A6, a special forces variant of the standard issue sidearm equipped with a laser sight and high-powered LED flashlight standard.
"Attention!" A voice barked. Instantly, all the Marines in the room snapped to attention as Major Bock entered the room.
"Alright Marines, here's the situation." He said. "We've got an apparently abandoned ship sitting in the middle of Hell's ass end. She has no working transponder or anything else indicating her name or origin. We, gentleman, are going to find out what the hell's going on with this hulk."
"Is anybody home?" One of the Marines, a broad-shouldered raccoon corporal, asked with a smirk. Bock rolled his eyes. The younger Marines seemed to revel in making dumb remarks.
"No life signs as of yet, but there's a dampening field operating in the center of the ship. Sensors have not isolated the source of the field." He said. "I can't say for certain, but my gut tells me that someone is hiding down there. Probably survivors from a pirate raid hiding in some stinking hole."
"I keep thinking about shipboard defenses." Sergeant Kevin Jones, a hyena nicknamed "Jonesy" by his squad mates, chimed in. "Can we expect any of those?" Bock shook his head.
"I doubt it. Freighters don't necessarily come standard with those." He said. "However, keep your eyes peeled. We don't know what's been installed on this thing." He said. "Any more questions?" He asked. None of the Marines spoke up. "Alright, be ready for zero G insertion in ten minutes." He said before he left the room.
What he didn't know was that this would be the last mission for this brave group of Marines.
--
Ten minutes later, the Marines assembled near the ship's airlocks, normally used to dump trash outside the ship before the advent of onboard trash processors. Bock reappeared before his men to give them final instructions.
"Once you're onboard, sweep the inside of the ship from front to back. I don't want a single nook or cranny left unsearched." He said.
"Yes sir!" The Marines barked. Bock smiled.
"Good luck, boys." He said. The Marines saluted, which Bock returned, and then began entering the airlock four at a time. Jones and his team entered the first airlock. The heavy metal hatch clanged shut behind them, followed by a hiss as the airlock depressurized. The Marines put on propulsion packs and strapped their weapons and gear down in preparation for the insertion. One the airlock depressurized, the outer door opened, and one by one, the Marines leapt out of the airlock, using their packs to maneuver towards the ships massive hull. It was a short hop to the ship, and they gently maneuvered themselves to the hull. Pressing switches on their suits' boots activated power electromagnets which stuck to the hull like flies on trap paper.
Caz pulled out a plasma torch and, with careful precision, began cutting an access hole into the hull. Thankfully, the ship didn't have a double hull, and the torch cut through the metal with ease. Delicately, Caz cut a circular slab of metal from the hull, and then brought the butt of his rifle down on it, sending it crashing into the bulkhead behind it. One by one, the Marines leapt through the hole and into the interior of the ship. The ship's artificial gravity gently pulled them into the ship as they entered. As the marines hit the deck, they fanned out and scanned the corridors. Caz was the last one through, hitting the deck behind the rest of his men.
"Alright, we're splitting up into teams." Caz said. "Master Sergeant Baker you take squad one and search the aft area of the ship. I'll take squad two and search the fore end." The Marines acknowledged and split up, Caz taking his unit to the far end of the ship. The Marines fanned out, searching each corridor for potential threats, until they came upon a hatchway. Caz examined the hatchway and found the controls. However, the hatchway was locked.
"Jonesy, breach." He ordered. Jones stuck the barrel of his rifle on the control panel and fired, disabling the lock. The hatch way popped open, revealing and empty room that might have been crew quarters. The walls were stained with a mysterious blue substance that glowed dimly in the darkness. Jones pulled his scanner off his belt and scanned the substance.
"The scan says this stuff is biological." He said. "The stuff contains hemoglobin." Caz scowled.
"You're telling me this stuff is blood?" He asked. Jonesy nodded.
"And a lot of it." He said. "It looks like a massacre took place in here." He said. Caz nodded, charging his rifle.
"Keep your eyes peeled." He said. "Whatever did this took the crew by surprise. I don't like surprises." Jones pulled out his scanner and turned it on maximum radius.
"Nothing's getting past this." He said. He swept the corridors as the squad continued their sweep of the aft section. They searched practically every nook and cranny before linking back up with the rest of the squad in the center.
"Not a damned thing." Baker said. "We hunted through practically every nook and cranny."
"We had better luck." Jones said. "Found what looked like blood in one room, and evidence of struggle and fighting elsewhere."
"We've got two scenarios working." Caz said. "Either the ship was boarded and the crew massacred, or a mutiny took place. Either way, we won't know until we check the cargo hold." The whole squad went for the cargo hold. The passageway was dark, so they broke out their lights and aimed them down the hall. They saw no tangos, but were greeted by the sight of more bluish blood staining the walls and floor.
"By the Messiah, it looks like a massacre took place in here." Caz said.
"I'll say." Jonesy said. One of the privates was sickened by the sigh and nearly vomited into this helmet. Gaz patted him on the back.
"Relax, it's just blood." He said. The private calmed and nodded. "Alright, let's move out." Caz ordered. The Marines charged their weapons and headed down the corridor, their eyes peeled for any movement. They kept going until they came upon one of the cargo holds.
"Sir, this room is where the field is concentrated the strongest." Perkins, a private, said. Caz nodded.
"Let's open it up and have a look." He said. Jonesy reached into a pouch on his suit and pulled out a small oval shaped device; a Mark 29 code breacher, designed to break the codes on coded locks and open the doors. Praying that the device would work with the alien technology, Jonesy placed the device on the lock and activated it. The breacher beeped and flashed until finally, the indicator flashed green, and the door opened.
They were greeted by the sight of what appeared to be a biostorage area. Rows of tubes filled with greenish fluid lined both sides of the cavernous interior of the cargo hold. Inside some of the tubes were strange looking creatures. They each were small, about 0.9 meters (3 feet) tall. They had large noses and ears, three spines sprouting from their back, large round noses, and four arms which ended in hands with vicious looking claws sprouting from the fingers. The creatures were each wired with sensors, apparently to relay information about their vital signs to a device. Caz cautiously entered the room, and noticed that some of the containers had burst open. Apparently, whatever was in the units had awoken prematurely and decided they wanted out.
He gave a hand signal to order his men to fan out and search the room. The rest of the marines held the rifles up and fanned out, checking out each corner of the room.
"Clear!" The lead marine signaled. The marines examined the tubes contained the bizarre creatures. Caz turned to Jonesy.
"What do you make of this?" He asked. Jonesy shook his head.
"I can't tell you what they are, sir." He said. "They're like nothing I've ever seen before. They don't even register on the scanner as a known lifeform." Caz frowned. He didn't like the idea of having to face unknown lifeforms.
"What do the scanners say?" He turned to another marine.
"The critters have typical mammalian structures." He said. "But there is some oddities I've never seen before. The bone and muscle structure on these things is almost like solid duranium." He said, referring to the metal used to build ships and other machines. "The nervous system is highly advanced. In fact… these may be the most intelligent lifeforms ever seen." Caz nodded. Just then, a loud metallic bang echoed through the room. The marines swung their rifles toward the source of the noise, and were shocked.
A hole had been torn in the bulkhead behind them.
"What the hell?" One of the marines said.
"Stay focused." Caz reminded them. "Collins, check that bulkhead." Collins stepped forward, examining the hole with his light. He couldn't see anything.
"Doesn't look like there's anything down there, sir," he said, "but I'll go on down there…" he barely got the word out of his mouth when the back of his helmet exploded in a burst of blood and brain. He collapsed on the bulkhead, dead. The rest of the marines charged the weapons and fired several bolts into the hole, until the metal was white hot.
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" One of the marines cursed. Caz was shocked at the sudden death of one of his men. He barely managed to regain composure.
"Spread out! Whatever that thing is, if we didn't get it, hunt it down." He said. The marines reluctantly followed his order, spreading out across the cargo bay, scanning for whatever it was that killed Collins. The marines were all on edge. Jonesy was hyperventilating in his helmet. He had never seen a man killed in that manner before. He nervously approached a corridor leading out of the cargo bay. As soon as he aimed his light down the corridor, a flash of red burst from the corridor, and one of the creatures was upon him. He didn't have time to scream however, as the creature soon had slashed his throat.
The marines were quickly beset by several of the creatures. The cargo bay lit up with laser flashes as the marines desperately tried to fight the creatures off. But the creatures did something that horrified them. The creatures actually blocked the deadly laser bolts with their bare hands. Some even reflected the bolts and sent them back at the marines, killing three.
As they mayhem continued, one of the marines, a corporal, desperately got away and opened up contact with the ship. He pleaded with the communicator as the connection was established.
--
The transmission was received in short order. The bridge of the Collin Young soon was greeted with image of a terrified Marine corporal.
"Corporal, what's happening?" Bock said.
"Major!" He shouted. "We can't kill these things. Blow the ship!"
"What are you talking about?" Bock asked. "What's happening?"
"Blow it!" The corporal shouted. "They'll…" His statement was interrupted as his helmet visor exploded, taking brain and blood with it. As cruel looking fist poked through the shattered, bloody visor, and the transmission was cut.
"Messiah help them." Bock said. "Blow the ship. Do it now!" He said. Captain Lovell looked at him in horror. "You heard the corporal. We can't let these things, whatever they are, be found. Destroy the ship!" Lovell nodded, seeing the point, as horrible as it was.
"Lock weapons." He said.
"Weapons locked." A crewman said. A targeting reticle appeared over the ship.
"Fire." Lovell ordered. The Collin Young's laser cannons roared to life. Huge blue bolts of plasma struck the side of the ship repeatedly, until the ship was ripped in half and exploded. The bridge crew bowed their heads and prayed for the lost Marines.
Bock stared at the spectacle with sorrow in his eyes. He would now have to explain to the families of those marines that their loved ones were never going to come home. This was their last mission, in a way no one ever wanted it to be.
--
"Did they find the ship?" A sinister, unseen voice asked, heavily accented.
"Yes, my Lord." Another voice, equally sinister, answered. "The test went off without a hitch. We lost the batch, though."
"It can easily be replaced." The first voice answered. "The results, however, are one of a kind. We must analyze the data. I want no faults this time."
"As you command, my Lord." The second voice said, a hint of sadistic pleasure in his evil-sounding voice.