North Star

Author's Note: My, it's been a long time, hasn't it? I've been rather busy lately, though, and I had no time to write. Well, that's not quite true- I was writing, but not fanfiction. I recently participated in National Novel Writing Month, and completed it successfully, but what with high school and homework, not to mention debate, I've had basically no time to sit down and write.

But I'm back again. I know you're all waiting for the next installments of Defiance, Through Unheard Eyes, Black Skies, and Star Fox: Horizons, but it will take me some amount of time to finish those. As I am typing this, however, my AlphaSmart is uploading the next chapter of Defiance, so at least you will have something to chew on.

Just to clarify- even though the technology in this story should give you a good idea of when it falls, this story takes place long before Star Fox 64. It is a story buried in the memories of the Cornerian public and that of James McCloud, one told to only a few for its brutality. It is an event that the elder McCloud came to regret for the rest of his life, one that made him question his own moral alignments and stances. For this is a tale that can only end in death, one that was a key moment in Cornerian history.

Thanks to notfromEarth7 for coming up with the idea of the Protowing- hopefully, he'll allow me to borrow it in later chapters. Until then, later!

Chapter 1 Crossing the Stars
The ship almost seemed to be playful in its movements as it whisked to and fro through the asteroids. The engine quad mounted on the stern glowed a bright blue with the flow of plasma ions, this light mixing with that produced by the central burner. This engine configuration was the same for almost all of Corneria's exploration vessels- the 'quad,' actually two sets of two ports on both sides of the rectangular hull, flanking a larger main drive used for jumps to lightspeed.

The sleek figure was one to be admired- while the stern was fairly rectangular, the corner edges were cut into separate facets, barely changing the silhouette into that of an octagon. At the ship's front, the hull dropped away on two sides to expose a beautifully designed bridge, polished glass allowing easy viewing of the furs moving about inside.

This two-tier chamber had the command deck, with the captain's chair on a circular turret-like structure connected to the floor behind it by a walkway, and various higher systems on this deck, and the systems pit. The latter was a blinking, flashing array of computer terminals and scurrying men and women, keeping the ship's many and varied functions online and working smoothly.

A lanky, well-groomed hamster turned in her chair, looking back briefly at the helm station behind her, starlight glinting off of her soft, golden fur as she did so. The otter sitting there was idly twitching his paws, flicking the ship this way and that to dodge oncoming asteroids with an almost fluid grace. Never could the hamster see the flicker of raised navigational fields, nor feel the shudder of the deck beneath him. The inertial dampeners were serving their purpose well, and for that, Captain Samantha Burrow was thankful.

The woman's sharp ears picked up the voice of an ensign below- the fission core was operating normally, and both backup fusion reactors were at approximately half of optimal capacity. There were no anomalies to speak of.

Samantha knew that riding on a ship such as hers carried a certain risk- the entire vessel was built around three potent reactors, any of which could go critical at any time, destroying a good part of the ship and flooding the remainder with radiation. The horrors of Corneria's first, and only nuclear war were long gone, centuries in the past. Still, however, many carried a deep-set fear and suspicion of anything related to this forbidden technology. Entire races had been decimated, countryside destroyed for miles around. Even the world-famous Redwall Abbey had nearly been obliterated by a shot gone astray, a grim reminder that nothing is left untouched in war.

Born into the public after that great conflict was a sense of caution. Despite the nature of Samantha's ship, the CES Polaris, the vessel still bore arms and defenses built for war.

Fortunately, however, those days were long gone, and the weapons aboard the Polaris were only the bare necessities, mandated by the harsh nature of space fare. A concussion missile could shatter just about any asteroid, and the ship's five, strategically-placed neutron cannons formed the main battery. Nuclear torpedoes, a final resort should the crew chance upon a hostile foe, were a last, desperate measure. These had been installed on all ships in the Polaris project, despite her strong protests.

These had never been used, though- Samantha herself doubted they ever would be, as well. About half the planets in Lylat had now been completely charted, and Alres, Corneria's moon, had been colonized. Contact had been made with the indigenous peoples of Aquas, Katina, and Fortuna, boding well for the future.

Now, here they were, surveying the vast, tumultuous region known as the Sargasso Expanse. This was a twisting, roughly spherical region of tumbling rocks and metal. It would be a valuable hotspot for mining, had not the criminals gotten there first.

In fact, even the hardiest of criminals barely held their own here. Space debris cared for no one- get in its way, and it would destroy you. Between the chance of pirates and the clashing asteroids, Samantha found it wise to keep the weapons powered up and on standby at all times.

This measure was well-made- it seemed like only a few minutes later when a bulky, sublight transport tried to sneak around on one side. The clumsy vessel showed up as clear as day on the many consoles designed for tracking and scanning- even clearer when a lance of brilliant sunlight sparkled through the field to reflect off the scorched hull.

"Go to security alert," barked the hamster, swinging herself back around to face the reinforced glass. "Ionize the hull plating and increase power to the weapons."

With a chorus of "Yes, sir!" the order was carried out. There was a great hum and droning of power as the plasma conduits began to dance and flash with the increased current surging through them. The two fusion cores lit up with activity as matter inducers were thrown open, shooting stores of hydrogen into the reaction chambers at ferocious velocities.

Inside the larger, central fission core, the maze of reaction rods was the stage of a boiling maelstrom as neutrons flung themselves about the lead-lined chamber in erratic motions, striking molecule after molecule and splitting them apart. The spent material was allowed to sit for some time longer, being broken ever further down, before being shuttled into the fusion reactors.

Neutrons were caught by the thousands as they rocketed about like loose cannons. These critical particles were channeled up through specialized conduits and then distributed to each of the five emitter arrays situated around the ship. Weapons officers in the cannon control rooms kept weather eyes on the many gauges that measured intake, power output, distribution, and condition. Too hot, and the cannons would detonate, unleashing a veritable storm of neutrons throughout the ship, yet too cold, and the cannons would shut down until they could be figuratively defrosted.

As the transport rattled before them, engines burning with a faded yellow glow, Samantha took a moment to ponder the nature of the attack. Surely the antagonists realized it was a hopeless battle? The transport ahead was armed at best with two forward-firing beam lasers, mounted and inset into the hull. By contrast, the Polaris carried variable-aim cannons and concussive missiles in its conventional armory. Tactically, the Polaris was also far faster to turn, speedier to move, and capable of withstanding a far greater beating than anything the transport could deal out.

The ship shuddered almost imperceptibly, a white glow rising from the impact points of both beam lasers. The red beams pulsed with energy for several seconds, then faded back to the calm darkness of space. Several seconds later, the beams were re-established and the deck shook again.

"Hull ionization is at 98 percent," called the senior tactical officer, a bear by the name of Hurley Gainsworth. "Forward integrity is holding at 97 percent."

"Fire a warning shot," ordered the captain, settling back in her chair. "Helm, take us 45 degrees to port."

Engines flared bright against the void as the commands were carried out. The vessel began to pull sideways, bow remaining perfectly level as the ship slewed onto its new heading. At the same time, the starboard bow cannon began to burn with a fierce light, the white radiance tinting blue until the maw erupted with energy. A stream of azure neutrons arced out across space and sailed just above the transport. Undaunted, the smaller vessel fired again, this time aiming directly at the weapon port.

There was a spray of sparks from the plating around the node, and a dull thud echoed throughout the ship. Hurley looked up briefly. "Forward cannon is down, captain!"

"Mr. Gainsworth, retaliate with the starboard missile launchers," barked the hamster, and the ship shook to a different frequency as small, elongated pods flew from recessed ports in the ship's side, each surrounded with a golden aura. The shifting hues carpeted the region of space between the Polaris and the enemy transport, a carpet of projectiles and orbs of light.

The transport turned down its prow and dove away, at a 45-degree angle downwards from Lylat's horizontal plane. The two bow launchers sent concussion missiles towards the transport, but both impacted instead upon moving asteroids.

"Helm, pursuit!" called Samantha, even as the otter helmsman pulled the ship into a position to follow. She could hear Hurley mentioning something about the targeting scanners being out of alignment, that he would have to aim manually, but she was not interested. The captain trusted those under her to do their jobs, and she kept her keen eyes on the chase, watching the twin blazes of amber disappear around another body.

The deck seemed to lurch beneath her and the hamster grabbed onto her armrests as the Polaris seemed to kick off of some unseen platform as it bucked, then shot around, cutting the distance around an intervening asteroid and bringing the transport into sight.

The port cannon lanced out again, missing the transport by mere inches. Smoke wisped up from the thin armor on the pursued ship, damaged by straying neutrons. A second shot glanced the hull, sending up a plume of flame that was extinguished almost immediately by the vacuum.

The third volley landed directly atop the now-exposed dorsal side. There were two seconds of flaring brilliance, and then, with a ferocious flash of glaring light, the transport exploded, a cascade reaction prompted by the impact of neutrons ripping the vessel apart on the molecular level. The results of this violent nuclear fission were evident as charred and scorched scraps of metal hurled in all directions, dying flames and smoke wisping up from the wreckage.

Even before the inferno had died away, orders were being given for mechanics and engineers to repair the damaged neutron cannon. Crewmen were beginning to move about the ship and back to their normal stations when a voice came on over the ship-wide speakers, calling for all hands to brace themselves.

Moments later, the Polaris cleared the Sargasso Expanse, sailing out into space. In a sudden blur of movement, the ship disappeared from sight as the central drive flared and exploded into a starburst of energy, driving the ship to hyperlight speeds.

"Velocity is holding steady at hyperlight three," announced the otter at helm, clearly eager now to go off shift. Samantha gave a small smile and a nod, and the aquatic hurried off the command deck. Once the man had left, she turned back to the blurred tapestry of stars before her with a small sigh.

She had no qualm about destroying criminals- they were hunters of life, scum of society. Yet they had stories too, and to see them killed in so brutal a manner, so quickly, was still somewhat shocking to the young woman. 28 years was not enough to prepare oneself for such a awe-inspiring, yet terrible spectacle as that had been.

A whirring of hydraulics behind her told Samantha that her first mate was on deck to begin his shift. There was a brief click of heels as the scarlet falcon threw her a salute. The hamster rose to face the avian, smiling thinly and motioning for the other to be at ease. The avian passed her about halfway across the deck, and Samantha heard a sigh of contentment as the man settled into her chair.

As she stepped onto the lift leading to the senior deck, she thought on her crew. Ambitious, yes, but she had faith in all of them, knew they would never abandon their principles for a spare credit here or there.

In the end, that was all she could ask of them. If there was any more to be done in the future, it would have to be solved then- until that distant point in time, she was content to let them be.

Outside, unseen by the speeding vessel and its inhabitants, a flare of bloody red erupted from the surface of Solar, discharging itself into space. The crimson glow was an ominous one, and it was to be almost prophetical about the violence ahead.

For, like war, conquest left nothing untouched.