Operation: Recovery
Chapter 1: Omega Squad
"You know, you're not helping yourself out. The sooner you talk, the sooner we'll stop beating you and the sooner you can go. So, how about it?"
"Forget it; he's not going to talk."
"That's too bad for him. We've got ways to make pilots squeal like stuck pigs."
Hang on; maybe a little explanation's in order before we jump right into things. My name's Matt Rayes, I'm a captain in the C.A.F. or Cornerian Armed Forces. I'm five-foot ten, I'm a silver fox, I'm twenty-six, and I've been a pilot for a little more than two years now serving all my time with the illustrious Coyote Unit (I'm using the word illustrious sarcastically, by the way). I could sit here and list off some of its greater accomplishments; our amazing feats of bravery, courage, and tactical supremacy but honestly, no one cares right? The only time my unit, heck, the only time the C.A.F. makes the news on Corneria is when we've screwed up badly or we've been saved by Star Fox, the greatest band of mercenaries in the Lylat System (or so every news station and website dedicated to reporting "just the facts" would have you believe). I guess I should be fair, they have the same effect on most guys sitting in barracks or on ships (like yours truly) that they do on everyone else. Guys look up to Fox McCloud, the heroic leader of the group, and are still trying their best to beat the times he set on the simulators when he was still training with the C.A.F. Mechanics and techies try their best to be as ingenious and inventive as Slippy Toad is on the Great Fox with our own arwings, cruisers, and everything else they work on. Peppy Hare, the oldest and by far the wisest member of Star Fox, is on every high ranking brasses speed dial for when they need advice. Then of course there's Falco Lombardi, the epitome of cool by most guys (and girls) standards. And last but not least the newest member of Star Fox and envy of every pilot I know, Krystal, the blue vixen that any guy would give his pilot's license to see naked and would probably give up their lives to have sex with just once.
That's enough about them for now though, let's talk about my unit. Coyote Unit's part of the C.A.F.'s 5th division whose purpose is mainly anti-piracy; we protect the government's ships and supply caravans from raiders and bandits wherever we need to. If we're not protecting ships and stations from pirates we're hunting them usually to little or no success. In the C.A.F. each division is made of five units, three on duty and two acting as reserves. Each unit is made up of three squads, designated Alpha, which is the lead squad, Beta, which flies left of Alpha in combat, and Omega, the squad I belong to, which flies to the right of Alpha. Each squad has five pilots in it, and each unit shares two mechanics. Divisions are deployed on carriers which are then deployed where they're needed. My unit is deployed on the Cornerian Armed Force's Savannah, along with her sister units Dingo and Jackal. Each carrier has one high-ranking officer on it, an XO under him, then the Unit leaders, or majors, then the squad leaders or captains before at the bottom of the food-chain the lieutenants. And that leads me to Coyote Unit's most recent mission. The day we got our orders had started no differently than the others we'd run.
I was lying in my bunk in the ship's barracks, a small metallic room with enough room for sixteen beds in rows of eight on either side of the door. Even though dinner was being served I wanted to finish reading a magazine on a data tablet before I left. I looked up as the only door into the barracks on my left opened.
"Hey! You're missing dinner!" Vivian Wilde, a high spirited lynx and one of my squad mates said, stepping into the barracks.
"I know, I know." I said, looking up at her for a moment, "I'll meet you down at the mess hall in a few." She shrugged and turned to leave before stopping suddenly. She turned back around and stared at me curiously.
"What're you reading?" She asked, stepping closer.
"Just some piece on General Pepper's health." I said, glancing up at her again. "He hasn't been doing very good recently."
'Really?" She asked, now standing only a few feet away. "Are you sure you're not…" In a swift move she covered the remaining distance and snatched the tablet out of my hands.
"Hey!" I shouted, reaching up to get it. Vivian held the tablet above her and stared at the screen. Her smile turned devious as she made out what I'd been staring at for the past few minutes.
"An article on Pepper's health huh?" Vivian said, flipping through the virtual pages of the tablet. "I didn't think Hot Rods, Hotter Tails cared." Embarrassed, I stopped trying to grab the tablet back and sighed.
"Okay, you got me." I said.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Duke you stole his magazine." Vivian said, still smiling. Duke Kingston was another member of my squad. Aside from being ripped, six foot, and a pure-bred arctic wolf, the guy hated it when people stole stuff from him especially from his "stash". The last time Duke caught someone with his favorite issue of Vivacious Vixens he'd broke their hands just by squeezing them in his.
"What'll cost me?" I asked, knowing Vivian's silence would come with a price.
"The next time we get leave you're buying." She said, handing the tablet back to me. I considered her offer for a minute. Vivian wasn't a light drinker, but I'd rather have to pay for thirty rounds then have to try and fly with broken hands.
"Deal." I said, getting out of my bunk. I walked over to Duke's bunk, pulled the footlocker out from under his bed and put the tablet back. Vivian continued to watch me before, motioning for me to follow her; we made our way out of barracks and to the mess hall where we caught a quick meal.
We got back to the barracks just in time to hear an announcement over the ship's intercom system announcing an inspection of each Unit's barracks. Everyone ran around straightening up their bunks, making sure nothing was left lying out and doing their best to look presentable. We finished an instant before the slim shadow of my CO Brigadier General Grimmsley, a white schnauzer with a bite much worse than his bark, appeared in the door. Grimmsley strode into the room, a tuft of white fur covering his eyes as he surveyed the uniforms of his troops. He walked slowly down the aisle, surveying all the troops on one side of the room. He stopped for a moment in front of me and I could sense his eyes looking up and down my uniform before, with a nod, he moved on and I slacked a little. He stopped again at the bunk to my right, Duke's, and looked him up and down. Grimmsley frowned as he noticed that the top button on Duke's uniform was undone.
"You're out of uniform, lieutenant…" Grimmsley said in his stern, steady, voice.
"Yeah, sorry sir," Duke said, trying to both remain straight and look down at his shirt, "it's just… buttoned up, my uniform doesn't show off my massive—"
"Do I look like I care lieutenant?" Grimmsley asked. "Do you think I'd run around the ship naked if I thought these slacks pinched my balls? Button it up now or you'll get to clean the barracks floor for the next two months." Duke glared at his CO before, with a defiant shake of his head, said,
"No sir." Grimmsley raised an eyebrow; surprised by Duke's defiance.
"Button it up, lieutenant." Grimmsley repeated, but again Duke shook his head. Grimmsley grabbed Duke's shirt collar, pulling the massive wolf down to his level with ease, "this is your last warning lieutenant before I personally mop the floor with your stupid mug."
"Try it." Duke snarled. Grimmsley, not hesitating a moment, flipped Duke over his shoulder and onto the floor before planting one foot on Duke's head and making good on his promise. Duke tried to push himself up, but each time he tried Grimmsley would stomp on Duke's arms with his free leg, forcing him back to the ground. It took Duke nearly five minutes before he finally realized he'd been beaten and gave up. Grimmsley took his foot off Duke's head and continued his inspection. Grimmsley stopped again a few spots further down.
"Sir!" Thomas Jackson, leader of Coyote Unit said, standing to attention and saluting.
"At ease Major." Grimmsley said, looking over my unit's leader. Jackson had always been a good guy, but there were three things that really pushed him ahead of anyone else to land the position he had. First was the fact that, lucky for him, he was a coyote so it only made sense for him to lead Coyote Unit. Second, Jackson had a knack for somehow managing to save people's hides in the nick of time whether that meant out in dog-fights or with the brass it didn't matter. Third and by far the most important to his success was Jackson's amazing ability to kiss ass.
"If there's anything I can do to better my unit sir, I'm sure it's in your wisdom to let me know." Jackson said.
"Brown noser." Duke muttered as he stood back up. Grimmsley looked back at Duke for a moment before turning back to Jackson.
"If anything comes to mind Major, I'll let you know." Grimmsley said, continuing down the line of men and women. Grimmsley stopped at the far end of the barracks before turning around and continuing to review the men on the other side of the room. An empty spot in the line across from my bunk caught his attention.
"Lieutenant Starr…" Grimmsley muttered, thinking. "Omega squad." He added, turning to face me. "Captain Rayes, where's your missing lieutenant?"
"Medical bay sir." I said, straightening up as much as I could. "An engineer on the flight deck ran over his foot with a supply cart." I had to fight the urge to smile. Charles Starr, or Chuckles, as everyone who wasn't too high up to have a sense of humor called him, was an extremely unlucky hyena in my squad. In his short career with the C.A.F. Chuckle's had been burned by his own engine, almost blown up by his own smart bomb in a dog-fight, had his wings clipped by a rouge asteroid, had his hands crushed by Duke, and had had limbs crushed by supply carts three different times (and that's just on duty; I've stopped trying to count the number of times he'd been beaten up by drunks in bars). Grimmsley nodded before moving on to the empty bunk next to Chuckles. He stopped for a moment, stared down at the empty spot and sighed. Omega Squad's fifth pilot had been Lieutenant John Jenkins, a young hound dog with a lot of potential and Brigadier General Grimmsley's nephew. On our last mission over Macbeth, Jenkins had been ambushed by a squad of fighters and his arwing had been shot down. I remember watching as smoke trailed up from his ship as it spiraled down to the surface below, watching for the explosion that meant he was definitely gone, but it never came. The Brigadier General, knowing there was a small chance that his nephew could've survived, ordered all of Coyote Unit (as well as all of Dingo and Jackal units) to search the planet for Jenkins's ship. I can't remember who found the wreckage, but I knew when I flew past that there was no way he could've survived, and he didn't. I know he denies it, but I swear Grimmsley blames me for Jenkins's death and he pushes me harder than anyone else on the ship because of it.
After finishing his inspection Grimmsley turned around to face all of Coyote Unit.
"There's more to my visit then just an inspection." He said. "Tomorrow we're escorting a convoy of three ships, Seeker, Curiosity, and Discovery, all of which contain scientists and junk they've dug up, from Titania back to Cornaria. I need all of you in your arwings and ready to launch by 0700; you're to cover the third ship, Discovery while Dingo covers Seeker and Jackal covers Curiosity. I shouldn't have to remind you how bad Titania can get, so I want all of you to keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. I don't care if it's a meteorite the size of a gumball, if it doesn't belong; blast it. Those are your orders for now. Dismissed." Everyone saluted the Brigadier General as he left. Vivian waited until she was absolutely sure that he was gone before saying,
"I wonder how far up his ass my nose'd have to go to get a promotion."
"Too far." Duke said, lying down in his bunk. "I'd rather be stuck as a grunt then suck up to him."
"But think of all the perks of being a captain." She said.
"Yeah, you get blamed every time somebody in your unit messes up." I said, following Dukes example.
"If it's such a bad gig, why're you a captain then?" Vivian asked.
"To pick up chicks." Duke said, smiling. "Saying he's a 'captain' sounds a lot cooler then saying he's a nobody like the rest of us."
"Bull." Vivian said, sitting down on her bunk. "Come on! There has to be some reason!"
"Do you mean other then the fact that you don't say no to Grimmsley without him using your face as a mop?" I said. Vivian remained silent so I figured she was waiting for something more. I wracked my brain for a minute, trying to come up with anything and the thoughts of my family came to the surface. I know it sounds stupid and maybe a little cliché, but I guess I felt like with as well as they raised me the least I could do is make a name for the Rayes since nobody in my family had done anything noteworthy. "Nope. No other reason." I lied, rolling over on my side. That didn't stop Vivian though. She kept trying to get a real answer out of me for ten minutes after that before she finally gave up.
