SHADOW
Chapter 1: Lost forever
The cold blankness of space; either comforting or chilling. The bright glow of the sun creating a halo effect on the planet of Corneria while in orbit around the large star. Outside the atmosphere and under space radar control, a distinct ship was in orbit while drifting around the planet, the Great Fox II
Up close, the ship had clearly lost its luster while the bright-red logo faded away. Inside the ship, one semi-reliable fighter was at its launch pad while another fighter, a well maintained one, was covered with a white cloth. Heading to the bridge, dim lights flickered, computers were dead silent and a robot deactivated and preserved in a containment device on the far left side. The far right corner had a communications system, its screen flashing on and off with the words 'saved message' at the center.
The hallways were quiet and dim, doors were locked as one room emitted light on the other side. Beyond that steel door lies a bedroom with the usual furniture; a bed, closet, a table with a desk lamp and lone picture frame, and a small container for firearms. Another door to the far end of the room separates the personal bathroom.
A vulpine was sitting down on the side of the bed. He was a fox in his late 20's, 5'8'' in height, brownish fur and has a white crest on his head. He was wearing a green flight suit with black details under a white jacket; a pair of dogtags hung around his neck while a set of shades were clipped on his collar. His hands were holding a small picture frame; the photo was that of a blue vixen, presumably in her mid-20's, with the said fox resting his hand on her shoulder.
He looked at the picture carefully, refreshing the memories he had back then with her. A smile crept on his face as the good memories were being recollected, like giving a thirsty wanderer the drink he desperately needed. But his smile faded away when a recent event tore the two apart for good, a memory that always haunted him up to this day.
If only I hadn't been so afraid, you'd still be here in my arms today. But I guess dwelling on that wouldn't put me to further heights.
He placed the frame aside and stood up, his eyes filled with hope for a brand new day "I'll just apologize to her before retiring."
The hangar doors started to open as Fox made the final checks for his fighter; the old bird may need some repairs, but she's still as slick as before. While making his final checks, he noticed that his first G-diffuser (left housing) isn't working properly. He knew that a fighter can still fly with one diffuser working, but his diffuser seems to be unresponsive to his command; a problem he never encountered before.
"It's just a minor problem. I'll get this fixed when I make my descent" he mumbled as he shrugged the problem aside.
He checked his primary HUD screen which was showing the armor status panel. He swept the screen as the armament panel showed up; two missiles were still in the missile bay while his laser batteries were in good condition. He swept again as the performance gauges showed up, his main engine running smoothly while his diffusers were showing two different readings.
Damn diffuser. With this keeping up, I guess I'm going to feel the g-force
Flipping a few more switches and finalizing his start-up procedure, he did one more try to start-up his left diffuser. He monitored the gauge and was finally relieved when the diffuser started up, clearing any approach problems completely.
With a steady hand, he pushed the throttles to full while his engines responded immediately to the command. The ship accelerated down the dock before jettisoning towards Corneria...
Outskirts of Corneria City
22:17 hours CST
The bright city lights and towering skyscrapers were just one of the features that wraps around the capital. Corneria City, the center of galactic government and military prowess, kept its lively aura even in the dead of night as millions of Cornerians spent the night in different approaches.
On air patrol was the rising mercenary team, Star Wolf. After their successful hit-and-run mission against the Anglars, they were considered as the newest heroes of Lylat; instant celebrities to the entire system. And all of that rooted from revenge and anger of a blue vixen against McCloud, her name was Krystal.
While the system admired their bravery and commitment to end the war, it all rooted down from betrayal. Wolf got into the team and gained Fox's trust after a battle in Fichina; the vulpine hoping that he'd help him out in the war, not realizing that he would be used to gain the device needed to penetrate the acidic seas. All thanks to Krystal's defection when a move to protect her was gravely misunderstood.
It was getting late as the four Wolfens kept vigilante watch of the airspace; several passenger aircraft (JAXA based aircraft) are heading to the city, one aircraft approximately carrying 300 passengers. Inside her Wolfen, Krystal started to yawn while checking her HUD screen for any data change. As she checked her systems, Panther came up in the intercom screen
"You getting tired my dear?"
She yawned while checking more of her systems "Yeah. Didn't get much sleep last night"
"Mmm... I think you should return to the ship and take a break. I'll inform Wolf for you"
"Thanks sweety. I appreciate your concern" she thanked before breaking away from the formation.
For nights, the vixen was experiencing reoccurring nightmares; majority branching out from leaving Fox. In her dreams, she was being stalked by the guilt and shame of her actions while running through streets, hearing people mock her as a traitor. Another reoccurring is that a fox, wearing a black jacket, kept stalking her; his eyes were glowing red, causing her to run in fear
Same reoccurring nightmares over and over. What's wrong with me?
She shook her head while keeping track of her current position. All of a sudden her radar and IRAS started picking up a heat signature to her eleven. She looked towards her left as a blue streak of light shot past a few hundred meters above the sky.
"Could that be... It can't..." she shrugged while continuing her course...
Warning sounds were going off as Fox struggled to keep his fighter in level. Outside, his left diffuser was ablaze, causing the ship to make a bank turn towards the left.
He was sweating, fighting his ship to get the controls. His arms getting tired as they forced the stick to go right while battling the shaker. Half of his hydraulics burned away and fed the fire in the housing; his right line giving him minimal control to the ailerons.
His speed was over 300 MPH; too fast to make a safe landing. To make things worse, shutting the left diffuser would cause instability and kill what valuable controls he had left. Slowing down his right isn't an option either; the badly-damaged and highly unstable left diffuser would overpower the right and cause a stall. He ruled out the proposal of using his stick; even the slightest deviation to the left would send the fighter flinging leftward.
"Corneria control, this is Fox McCloud. I am declaring an emergency. Repeat, I am declaring an emergency"
His call goes unnoticed as he struggled with the controls. He was heading towards the city; combined with his speed and rate of descent, he has become an uncontrollable fuel bomb.
A few more minutes and Corneria control finally responded to his plead. "Corneria control here. We hear you loud and clear"
"Control, current situation... lost... hydraulics... descending at... cannot... aircraft... on fire... lost major..."
"Say again, we cannot understand your situation"
But Fox doesn't answer back. He was too concerned about his trajectory that he forgot to respond.
"Can you hear us McCloud?"
Again, ominous silence was the only response from the other side. But the radar screen is still showing the aircraft and its heading. Without hesitation, he contacted one of the flights heading towards the port
"Air Titania 742, I need some assistance from you. I've lost radio contact from Fox McCloud and his radar signature appears to be heading to your front. Please confirm visual as soon as you can, over"
"Roger Corneria control, we'll keep a lookout for the fighter"
He thanked the flight before contacting another one, this time from Corneria National Airlines "Corneria Air 227, I need visual on Fox McCloud. His current position will be to your left, a thousand feet below you, over"
"Copy. We'll keep our eyes out"
Back to Fox, his ordeal was taking turns for the worst. His equipment started to fail altogether; electrical wires burning in the left diffuser, while another wave of warning sirens filled the cockpit before the master warning light sprung to life. He had been fighting his Arwing II for half an hour now with the situation degrading faster and faster.
But he was still heading straight for one of Corneria's tallest buildings at over 300 MPH. Combined with his descent rate and turning difficulty, he's faced with two desperate options; pull back the first diffuser to make a hard bank turn to the left or use his stick to make the turn.
Shut down the first, I'll be able to slow down... but spiral out in the process. Take the stick and I'll be able to recover... but I won't recover fast enough... speed may increase as well...
The thought sent chills down his spine. He would lose everything. But the lives of thousands are at risk if he doesn't act now. His eyes were scanning the horizon, looking for the safest place to crash. Corneria City is located near the Corneria bay, with that connecting to the sea a few nautical miles apart. It was a moonless night and he noticed, to his relief, that all ships in the area have ported back to the docks, leaving the Cornerian Navy fleets to guard the perimeter.
He took deep breaths as his fingers clenched the stick. With one last inhale, he gently moved the column to the left. The response was sudden, the ship nearly making a 90* turn as he tried to balance out; his flight path slowly moving towards the bay. The radar screen to his left was starting to detect aircraft nearby; one to his right and another behind.
He knew that his time was about to come, and dying without his final words being heard isn't an option. He has known that ATC conversations were recorded in case of any mishaps. This was his last chance to record all conversations that he wishes to save.
"Corneria control, this is Fox McCloud. Lost all control. Can't land anymore..."
The aircraft was now a few miles from impact as he flew over the buildings below. His exhaust trail taking the attention of bystanders as they started pointing at the source of the line. Some even took out their phones and started recording the sight.
"No hope for recovery. Ran out of options..."
He cleared the main city center and flew above seaside hotels and restaurants. Some visitors noticed the craft and quickly grabbed their cameras and recorders before running outside and tape the event. Some were in shock when they zoomed in and discovered that it was the Arwing II of Fox McCloud.
"Tell my team that I am sorry for everything I've done..."
Miles away from the beach and military assistance out of the equation, he is about a few hundred feet above the sea. He could see the waves below, and the reflection of the ship as well. His system started warning him about his altitude, but there was nothing he could do anymore. He was tired and sweaty from the fight, and all he wanted was the rest he deserved.
"Tell her that I'll always love her..."