Disclaimer: See the Prologue
Edits made: Size of Traitor Marine's sword.
Chapter 1 – Faded Brotherhood
Speak not too well of one who scarce will know himself transfigured in its roseate glow; Say kindly of him what is, chiefly, true, remembering always he belongs to you; Deal with him as a truant, if you will, But claim him, keep him, call him brother still!
- Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894) American author and poet.
"I am watching the vid screens on the wall, General Hare. Through them I see nothing but taint."
"You can see that past almost an endless amount of death and destruction, Lord Macragge?"
"Those terms are associated with taint. The taint drives man and beast-xeno to turn against themselves. The taint that is Chaos."
Dressed smartly in his usual red military uniform, General Peppy Hare stood beside the Lord Macragge himself as they watched on the large wall screen almost a hundred smaller vid images of Lylat under siege from Lylat. These included Chaos Marines of the World Eater's storming a Cornerian army base as the sun went down from the planet's sky, blood-lusting Bezerkers up in front chopping up Cornerian army personnel with their consecrated chains-axes. Also another Tzeentchian cultists raiding on of Fortuna's numerous walled city's, rushing down the street hurling chained lightning at anything and anyone that moved.
Calgar noticed Peppy watching the Fortuna 'City #1' vid screen and noted, "Can there be any doubt that Ahriman is amongst his brethren again? Thought I can imagine once he is of no use to them they will turn on him immediately."
Peppy nodded, then said, "The fighting on Katina…that is…intense. The enemy has tried to knock out the surveillance cameras broadcasting, it's as if they want us to watch them wage war."
"Such is the machinations of Khorne," Calgar explained, "He desires all to see him coming forward to bring death to the good and faithful."
Peppy looked over at him, a worn expression on his face, "The good and faithful being those that worship the Emperor of Mankind, you mean?"
Calgar smirked, "Let the common man venerate him in his own misguided way, lest he not put his faith in him at all."
Calgar then left the large vid chamber through the automatic metal doors just as a Tau Ethereal dressed in his normal ceremonial gown and a Venomian simian in his late twenties dressed in flight uniform walked past him. They saw Peppy alone standing in the centre of the chamber and facing the vid-screen dominated wall, watching the broadcasted destruction of Lylat quietly.
Praetor of Venom Dash Bowman and Aun'shi of Vior'la sept stepped into the room.
"General Hare," Aun'shi said, sounding modest, "Would you like to be amongst more…hospitable company?"
Peppy turned to face the pair and smiled lightly. Taking it as an invitation, Aun'shi and Dash stepped into the room. As they approached Peppy…
"If I may be blunt, General," Dash commented, "Normal people wouldn't spend their down time watching the galaxy burn."
He then appeared wry.
"General Alexander, or Governor-Militant Alexander…did report that the Academy on Fichina has been secured," Dash said as he took a seat in front of the screen, watching the old hare still standing there, silently, "He reported that the heads of education and operations were all safe and sound."
"I know that, Praetor Bowman," Peppy said, "Since you have no kids, I can't blame you for being subtle about it."
Aun'shi elected to stand beside Peppy rather then take a seat.
"I can not blame you for your paternalistic nature," the Ethereal said, "Yet, the Preator is correct. Reports indicate that the Fichina Academy is under Coalition control, henceforth she is alright."
Peppy nodded, appreciative of Aun'shi concern, "I know that, Honoured Ethereal."
It then suddenly faded.
"Did you come here for a reason?"
Dash nodded and straightened his back, "Things aren't going well on the home front. There's being reports that the local population, our local population, are clashing with Cornerian refugees over supplies, which are rapidly fading if I may add; and some armed military personnel from both sides are supporting them."
"Clashing?" Peppy asked, "Care to define that?"
"Riots, violence, unrest," Dash continued, frowning, "The fact that the human Children of Eden and the Kronus 1st Regiment is assisting with crowd control adds to it. They're afraid…"
"I know," Peppy grimaced, "The best we can do is put this down as quickly and as bloodlessly as possible, then try to make everyone realise that, for better or worse, humanity is here and we're fighting a common foe."
He then suddenly tapped his wrist mounted communicator.
"Command control, this is Hare."
Yes, sir.
"Send communication to Admiral Hancock, Colonel O'Reilly, Lord Admiral Nero, General Sturnn, General Alexander, Commander Farsight and every other Lylatian commanding officer in com range," Peppy instructed authoritatively, "I'm requesting a holo-conference and status reports in one way."
At once, sir.
He then switched off the com, and once again turned to his compatriots in leadership.
"I already know that we won't be any better off after a week," Peppy admitted, now smiling sadly, "But if we can find some way to stop Abaddon from progressing any further out of Lylat, then maybe we will able to start pushing him back to Hell he flew out of it."
Dash crossed his arms, "I'm all for it, General."
Aun'shi sounded determined as well, "As am I."
----------
The sounds of laughter, cursing, heavy drinking, brawling and general debauchery didn't bode well for La'Tash of T'au as he sat in the booth he shared with the young human male, who sat cross-legged and calmly sipping from a glass of ginger ale. Also the that he was out of uniform and armour and dressed the same way as his human companion was also to him a let down. They both wore trenchcoats and had hoods over their heads, which for the blueskin Tau it covered his face and braid completely, while for the human male he actually had his hood down, revealing his short dark-blond hair, blue eyes and synthetic left ear to the atmosphere around him.
"You look nervous, Tash," the young human male said to his Tau companion, noticing his clasped hands on the table in between them, his fingers twitching, "And it is not even time for the operation to begin."
Tash rubbed the side of his head, "Please remind me again how we got here again, Shas'ui Jakob."
Gue'vesa'Shas'ui Jakob looked at him questioningly, eyebrow raised, "After accepting our assignment from the Honoured Ethereal we returned to Titania upon hearing rumours of a smuggler operation. We posed as a pair of mercenaries and infiltrated them. We then accompanied them here to Sargasso…"
La'Tash snapped his fingers interrupting, "Gah…Jakob, that is not what I meant. I mean…why are sitting here drinking in this bar, fraternising with these…"
He then lowered his voice.
"…these…undesirables?" he hissed.
Jakob frowned, "We have been here for a couple of days already and our movements have only been restricted to the hotel area in between recon missions. Today I felt like exploring this little den of thieves…"
Tash cringed slightly when Jakob made no effort to lower his voice.
"…and see first hand what will soon be…dealt with."
Luckily no one overheard Jakob's little speech amidst the happenings going on in the pub. Tash couldn't help but silently marvel at Jakob's lack of fear and complete calmness over a possibly stressful assignment.
At that Tash smiled behind his hood, then asked, "You don't show any fear at all, gue'la. Exactly the reason why you are not wearing a hood over your head."
The human shrugged and gulped the last of his ale down, then wiped his mouth and suppressed a belch, "They must deal with humans, the smugglers. I have heard their influence stretches as far as Kew…"
His watch suddenly beeped and he froze, slightly afraid. He prayed his wasn't time for him to take his medicine, yet. To his relief, however, it was device strapped to his right arm, which had a MISSION COUNTDOWN timer going….
"Ten minutes until we begin operation," Ui'Jakob announce to his Tau friend, patting his arm and standing up from the booth, "Let's go."
La'Tash nodded he too stood up from the booth. As they walked towards the exit leading into the station's main plaza, a hurled empty bottle smashed right next to them on the wall. Tash jumped out of the way just in time, while Jakob stood there in the doorway, frozen.
"Oi, skinny…where you going, boy?"
Ui'Jakob frowned and looked over his shoulder to find a small gang of leather wearing canines approaching him and Tash. Everybody else present stopped what they were doing to witness the hostile exchange, the pub owner already breathing hard with anxiety behind the bar counter. Ui'Jakob turned to fully face them, the gang consisting of a Bulldog, a Chihuahua, a Labrador and a Rottweiler. The Rottweiler appeared to be the head of this pack, grinning maliciously.
"You've got a quite a nerve, boy, to just stroll into this here bar like you own it," the Rottweiler growled, "You and your little blueskin buddy here."
Ui'Jakob glanced over La'Tash, before answering, "We didn't know were not welcome here, canine. I thought if we weren't wanted the pub owner would have told us to leave."
"Yeah," the pub owner, a middle-aged hippopotamus in a greasy smock said, "Lay off em', Johns. They ain't done nothin…"
"Shuddup, old man," the Rottweiler known as Johns barked at him, "You still owe me fifty, remember? Wanna make it a hundred?"
The hippo kept quiet. The Rottweiler turned back to Jakob, blood and hatred in his eyes. Jakob seemed unfazed as Johns stinking breath was on his face, as they looked one another in the eye.
"You asshole skinnies think you can just fly your high-and-might butts here and order everyone to get in line to fight those other fucking skinnies tearing Corneria to shreds?" Johns questioned drunkenly, "The fuck is up with you, boy?"
Still looking him in the eye, Ui'Jakob answered, "We're not ordering you around, canine. We are you allies. Humanity of the Imperium and the humanity side by side with the Tau. We fight for the Greater Good…"
"The Greater Good…" the Labrador laughed, "The hell kinda crap is that?"
Ui'Jakob felt his left eye twitch, but through his training and mental discipline he refrained from experiencing anger. The Rottweiler glanced over at the Labrador and smirked.
"Yeah," Johns cried, "Boy, the hell is it with you and religion?"
Jakob was now frowning again, "It is not religion. It is a single, unifying ideal extending to every species that draws breathe…"
The Bulldog looked at him, astounded, "Aw great…we got a damn bible basher in here."
Rottweiler gnashed his teeth and grabbed Ui'Jakob by the scruff of his coat, "Boy, we don't want your kind here and anywhere else on this station. The hell you got on board…"
"I am not a boy."
John's eyes widened, and growled again, "What?"
Still frowning, Ui'Jakob reiterated, "I am not a boy, I am a man. So stop referring to me as such."
The whole pack roared in laughter, and some of the pub goers also joined in. The tavern owner didn't seem all that impressed at Johns' condescending remarks.
"Heh, Johns," the Chihuaha giggled, "You got him by the coat and he's still givin' ya lip. Cut his tongue out, why don't ya?"
Laughing and looking over his shoulder to the agreeing nods of his accomplices, Johns nodded, "Yeah…why don't I…AWWKK!"
In a flash, Ui'Jakob shot his left hand forward into John's mouth and grabbed his tongue, stretching it out of his mouth and causing him to let go of Jakob. The rest of the pack immediately stopped laughing and pulled out their blasters. The tavern owner and the rest of the pub goers ducked for cover as Jakob raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist, wrist-blades appearing out the side and primed for combat.
"Unless I cut your tongue out first," Ui'Jakob said.
La'Tash looked at him incredulously, and could not blame him for standing up for himself so abruptly.
'Never disrespect the Greater Good,' he thought, 'Especially in front of the Shas'ui'
As Ui'Jakob inched the blade near John's throat, he thought bitterly…
'Hopefully Team Star Fox is faring better than we are. Fox, Krystal…hopefully we will not be apart for much longer…'
----------
The streets of the Lylatian city which burned in the night sky were desolated, the metal roadway cracked and partially melted. No form of transport was present here save the wreckage of Cornerian-produced automobiles. No one walked on these roads or the adjacent footpaths, only their corpses, which laid mostly on their fronts, as if they had tried to flee from what caused this destruction. The scrunched up, contorted faces suggested that they saw something horrible, something unnatural.
Something Chaotic.
The lone orange-furred, white-fringed fox stood in the middle of he ruined street. He stood at around 5'4 with green eyes atypical for the vulpine kemono race. He was clad in a white armour vest over a green/red flight suit; which was partially modified with steel-armour plating on his shoulders and knees. He wore his usual set of boots, only that the soles were completely blackened as a result of prolonged fighting.
Suggesting he hadn't slept in a lone while, his eyes were partially reddened with slight bags underneath them. Yet he managed to keep his eyes open as well as his balance, holding the silver-encrusted omega symbolised power sword tightly in his left hand, holding the blade so that the point was on the ground. His eyes were peered down the street and the way he moved slowly with utter caution he knew that any second now his enemy would reveal himself.
He tried to not think of anything except where he was and what could appear at any time, knowing his foe read his thoughts and body language; and one slip of either could be considered an opening for him to strike. With the enemy statistically more powerful than him, a single blow would mean his end. For he was a physically normal, unmodified, untainted Lylatian vulpine and his enemy's superior strength, agility, reflexes and senses were thousands and thousands of years in the making. A vicious, almost unnatural hybrid of physical conditioning and mental indoctrination transforming him into the perfect weapon.
The vulpine's mind drifted as he thought about those well-known facts about the superhuman, giving his enemy an opening…
"McCLOUD!"
…whom shrouded by a black cloak which covered his massive power armoured frame erupted from within a partially damaged transport van to the side of the road and swung his massive black sword, his cape flowing behind him as if he was a demon. Reflexively, the vulpine raised his sword to guard against this surprise attack. The sheer force of the foe's superior strength behind his sword sent the vulpine flying.
"WAAAAH!"
He fell onto his back, rolled over and landed on his front, his sword falling two feet away from his left hand's reach. He groaned and looked at his foe, wiping his mouth of blood and saliva. Studying him, he looked like the typical Chaos Space Marine, equipped in black-coloured Mark 5 'Heresy' Power Armour. The left pauldron had the yellow eight-pointed star symbol with a red eye in the middle while the helm bared a topknot on top of it – the colour and insignia of the Black Legion Traitor Legion.
The helm's eyeports glowed red, and Fox McCloud didn't need to look past them to notice the Chaos Marine had blood in the eye, so to speak. The sword he carried was about six feet tall and two inches thick, big enough to slice anything biological in half. Fox had been weary about going up against another one of these monstrosities. Though his skills in swordsmanship had improved drastically since last year, he could only hold his ground long enough for help to arrive.
Raising his sword, the Chaos Marine charged. Fox quickly got up, grabbed his sword and took a defensive stance. His foe swung his heavy sword, prompting Fox to dodge sideways by rolling. Believing he caught him off guard, Fox thrust the point of his sword towards the Marine's side, but the Marine quickly raised his right arm and blocked his strike, then slapped Fox's sword away then sent him off target and back onto the ground. The Marine then stood above him, taking the moment to study his prey.
Fox's sword had the misfortune of being out of hand's reach, and so rolled onto his back to brace himself for hid death blow, gritting his teeth and frowning intensively. The Marine brought his sword down towards him, intent on splitting the vulpine's head into two.
His sword was only an inch away from Fox's forehead when it stopped, barely grazing his headfur. Fox felt blood begin to trickle out his nose as he concentrated intensely on making sure the blade wouldn't touch him by using his mind…and his most extraordinary gift. The Chaos Marine grunted as he gripped the sword hilt tighter to try and breach this invisible field Fox erected between himself and his sword, but to no avail.
Shouting with exertion, Fox mentally pushed the sword away from his face with force and causing the Chaos Marine to stagger backwards, balancing only on his right leg. Fox rolled over and grabbed his sword, charging the Chaos Marine….
"RAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
…and piercing him through the stomach region, the sword going out the other end through his back. But strangely, the blade wasn't covered in the Chaos Marine's blood, nor was it dripping out onto the ground from the entry wound. But the Chaos Marine groaning, falling to his knees, downcast his head and letting his sword drop was enough to let Fox know he had brought him down.
Fox sighed out loud and turned his back on the defeated Marine, putting a hand over his face to cover his smile. A smile that pointed out he had gone up against a Traitor Astartes by himself and won. That smile faded when suddenly he felt a steel gauntlet grab him by his left ear…
"ARGHH! OWWW!"
…and lifted him upwards, causing him to dangle before him with his back still turned to him. The Marine was now standing, Fox's sword still embedded in his gut and protruding out the other end. The Traitorous Marine of the Black Legion clenched his right fist, inching it toward Fox's spine. He then brought his fist and arm backward behind himself, preparing to deliver blunt force death.
"OW! OW! OWWW! NO…FAIR!" Fox shouted in pain, "I… KILLED YOU!"
He then felt a slight tap on his back, courtesy of the Chaos Marine who had feigned preparation of a deathblow. The vulpine then heard the Chaos Marine speak in High Gothic, in a voice so familiar to him it normally put him at ease…
"Vos verto vestri tergum in mihi. Nunquam sapiens res efficio, acsi vestri inimicus est in suus genua quod suus mucro est ex suus manus manus."
The Chaos Marine dropped him on his ass and pulled the sword out of his gut. The sword appeared to phase out of his body, not inflicting any physical damage at all when it had pierced him, having phased through him. Fox rubbed his swore left ear as he groaned quietly in pain, obviously annoyed. He yelped in surprise when the Chaos Marine dropped the sword close to his arm, cluttering onto the floor before it suddenly dissipated into pixels and vanished.
"Terminate simulation," Fox grunted as he stood up, now rubbing his sore backside with his right hand, the Chaos Marine still standing behind him, behaving harmless.
The Burning City simulation ended, reverting back to the default light blue décor of the now empty Simulator. The holographic projection around the Chaos Marine faded as well, revealing him for what he truly is: A brown-haired, thirty-year-old human male, though with a seven-shaped scarred on his face he had with him natural charisma that may stem from his unique vulpine-like green eyes.
He was adorned in his Grey Knight Aegis Armour – that special kind of armour only the members of the daemon-hunting psychically-potent Astartes Chapter wore. Incorporating many features from previous Power Armour designs including the backpack containing the armour's power system, however it's main draw was it's anti-daemonic runes and symbolism, capable of warding off and harming the daemon and other malevolent beings of Chaos that came near the wearer. It was this armour that added to Jacques' aura of charisma and heroic reputation.
Though at the moment Fox didn't exactly think of him as such.
"What did you say to me?" Fox asked, finally stopping him from rubbing his sore behind.
Jacques looked at him, raising his eyebrow and slanting his head as if confused by what he said. To him, Fox had just spoke to him in a different language, which sounded awfully lot like animalistic mumbling.
"Quid, McCloud?"
Fox's eyes widened as he heard Jacques continue to speak in gothic. He then tapped his left ear which consequently had his earpiece automatic translator housed. He took it out, examined it, and flicked it a couple of times, before putting it back in his ear.
"What did you say?" Fox asked again, "Just as you were tearing my ear off?"
This time, to Jacques, Fox spoke clearly and in his own tongue. And when Jacques responded, it was in his own Lylatian tongue as well.
"I said: 'You turned your back on me. Never a wise thing to do, even if your foe is on his knees and his sword is out of his hand,'" Jacques answered, "And turning your back in such a likely position where he would easily back up is unlike you, McCloud."
Fox turned around to look at him, "You said 'first to impale' wins, remember? We agreed on that!"
Jacques smirked, crossed his arms and stepped forward towards Fox, as if imposing himself over the smaller vulpine, "Deception is a part of warfare, vulpine. For not remembering such wisdom what I did can be considered penance on your part."
He paused, then continued.
"Though your use of your 'gift' is noteworthy."
Glaring at Jacques, Fox shot back, "If it weren't for the safeties being engaged I'd think you were really going to cleave me in half, Jacques. I'd call it instinct."
"Yet very resourceful. I have never tried balancing on one foot before as a result. But still…"
The Grey Knight was still smiling.
"You were in need of penance, and I decided to be playful about it."
Rubbing his ear one last time, Fox still glarring up at him and dead panned, "Lifting me skyward by my ear and dropping me on my ass is considered 'playful' penance?"
Jacques dropped his own simulated Chaos daemon sword that faded back into pixels before it touched the ground, "Normally penance is to deny you your rations for the day, or a predetermined amount of lashings. Would you prefer either?"
Fox stared at him blankly, the thinned his eyes and smirked.
"If I was you, I would."
Jacques shook his head as Fox turned his back to him once again and stretched his limps.
"She would not want that," Jacques pointed out, "For either of us to hurt ourselves."
Fox froze at that statement, eyes quivering slightly as he remembered someone he believed he now lost. He scrunched up his face and rubbed his left hand across his face, sighing into it. The Grey Knight was now frowning at the vulpine, his eyes appearing to pierce through his furred hide and into his soul. Fox felt shivers go up and down his spine, and he felt furious as a result.
"Don't…mention…her, Jacques," Fox felt enraged at the Grey Knight, "For God's sake…just drop it already."
"McCloud?" Jacques' tone of voice sounded stern.
Fox looked over his shoulder, keeping his anger in check as he replied, "You've been calling me McCloud all since last week. You can't still be mad at me."
Jacques now sounded softer, almost pleading, as he uncrossed his arms.
"Have you considered…?"
Fox turned to full face him, a mixture of annoyance and anger evident on his face, "I already did…the first time you asked me, a week ago. Krystal is off the team until further notice…that is, when I notice Chaos is out of Lylat for good."
He raised his voice at him, causing Jacques to widen his eyes in surprise at his outburst.
"Now for fuck's sake don't ask me again if I want to take Krystal back…"
He stopped when he saw Jacques now staring solemnly at him.
"…on the team, I mean!" Fox finished.
A silence washed over the both of them as they stood there in the empty simulator, Fox immediately regretting raising his voice to his friend while Jacques felt no regret in trying to, to him, bring Fox to his senses regarding a certain blue vixen that both men held dear to themselves. Fox rubbed his hearfur as he looked down.
He exhaled sadly, "I…I'm sorry, Jacques. It's been a week since that perverted hellhole…just, please…"
Jacques nodded understandingly.
"I understand, and I apologise as well," Jacques said as he walked past Fox towards the exit, "But let me say this…"
He paused as he opened the door.
"You can not keep an eye on her all the time," he explained, "And since you no longer any authority over her, if she wants to fight and finds some other way of joining the battle besides this float of Lylatian metal then you must respect that."
Still downcast, Fox waved his hand tiredly at him, the effects of sleeplessness starting to wear him down.
"Whatever."
Jacques left Fox alone in the simulator, where just as the door closed as he suddenly collapsed onto the ground, his exhausted body having finally given way. The vulpine did not object to his heavy eyelids closing, and soon fell asleep after four days of non-stop training, all to steel himself the moment the person he would never admit he depended would not be around to help him.
----------
Lying beneath the elevated Arwing star fighter on a rollable platform, the green frog wiped his greasy hands on the sides of his teal jumpsuit, before he picked up the spanner and begun to close and screw shut the hatch which had revealed the G-Diffuser of the starfighter. He was much relieve to finally be able to finish four hours worth of work on their three starfighters. It would have been six hours if their fourth fighter hadn't been totalled beyond all repair; and he knew that for certain as he had been the person behind the controls.
Finishing up, he quickly rolled himself up from underneath the fighter and stepped over to the wash sink situated at the far end corner of the hangar, which was used to clean up and sterilise following time dedicated to maintenance. Rolling back the suit that covered his arms, he washed his hand thoroughly before glancing at himself in the mirror.
He visibly winced when he saw the facially scarred frog stare at him back through the mirror, and immediately felt sick. He raised his still moist left hand to his face, the scars looking as if he had attacked by a wild animal, where in reality he had been thrown through the canopy window of his now totalled Arwing. He looked sadness as he traced a finger across one of his scars.
He noticed a small light suddenly flicker in the darkness of the partially lit hanger behind him, causing him to almost jump in fright as he did not notice someone else had been with him the whole time. When that someone opened his beak to speak, it confirmed his presence…
"Y'know, staring at yourself in the mirror ain't gonna change the fact you flew out of your Arwing and landed near a fountain, Slip. You are, and always will be, a kitty scratch post."
Slippy grimaced as that someone chuckled at his own attempt at humour.
He turned around to stare towards the darkness, "And how long have you being watching me slave under the Arwings, Falco?"
Slippy heard feet touch the hangar floor, that someone having apparently sat on a crate, before hearing footsteps then seeing a blue avian falcon in his late twenties dressed in a black flightsuit step into the light. A lit cigarette dangled in the left side of his mouth and a whole pack of the Lupine-manufactured cancer sticks was in one of his left pockets. Slippy's eyes widened at the sight of him, never seeing his friend appear before him as such.
Falco Lombardi, Ace Pilot of the Star Fox, had noticed that Slippy some of the colour in his slight portly amphibian companion face and skin had faded following that great battle on MacBeth, giving him a sickly, light green appearance. He reasoned that the stress was getting to him, and he knew Slippy knew it was getting to him as well.
"You look like shit, Toad," Falco grouched, exhaling smoke out of the nostrils in his beak, "Seriously, man. Like something that came out of a skinny's ass."
Ignoring his hurtful comment, Slippy made his way towards the Arwings where Falco was leaning against his fighter. The canopy into the Arwing next to Falco's opened and Slippy climbed into it.
"You here to make fun of me, Falco?" Slippy asked as he started pushing button on the flight console, "Or are you here to give me a hand?"
Falco shrugged, "You look like you're all set here, pal. I'm surprised you haven't taken the Bullfrog out of for a spin yet."
The frog rolled his eyes in annoyance as he activated the Arwing, powering all systems, "Still experimental, Falco. Amanda's still working out the bugs with the weapons."
"Yeah, speaking of Amanda…" Falco smiled.
"We're fine," Slippy replied loudly, not caring that the Arwing powered down suddenly and the port cover over the G-Diffuser was suddenly blown off as the systems failed, "Darn!"
He leapt out and walked towards the broken port cover, wincing slightly as it felt hot to touch.
"Shouldn't you be worrying about Katt?" Slippy suddenly strapped on some gloves, before picking the cover up, "Did you two manage to get over that serious blow-out you had?"
Falco shrugged again, eyes downcast sadly as he now sat on the ground against his Arwing.
"She said she wanted some space," Falco answered, drawing a sympathetic glance from Slippy, "And I'm givin' it to her."
Slippy stared at him for a few, quiet moments then sighed sadly.
"Awwww…the team can't go through another break up in the same month."
Falco glared over at him, "I said space, Slippy, not break…big difference. No way in hell I'm ever letting her go."
"Have you ever told her that?" Slippy inquired, "Isn't that the problem? That you two don't open up to each other enough?"
"Don't push it, seriously," Falco hissed quietly as he removed his cigarette from his mouth and tapped some ash away from it onto the ground, "Sorry I ever started talking to you."
Slippy looked even sadder at the downtrodden avian, then started thinking of saying something low-key to change the subject.
He breathed softly out his nose and said, "You started smoking?"
Falco shook his head, closed his eyes and chuckled, "No point in clean living. If we're not shooting ourselves up with morphine, we're smoking. If we're not smoking, war and Chaos makes us dirty inside anyway."
He paused, then smiled wider.
"Chaos, as in the big bad guys in power armour riding on even bigger, badder hellspawn."
Slippy couldn't help but smile at Falco wry attempt at philosophy. It was ver eerily close to the truth when it now comes to Lylat's war against the Ruinous Powers of the Dark God of Chaos, their legions of corrupted superhumans, dark religious cults and daemonic hordes their instruments of death, destruction and unholiness.
"Just what I was thinking, Falco."
----------
The mood on the Great Fox II and how it's members spoke and treated one another was bleak, but who can dare blame them? It was only a week since the collective Lylatian news networks and media dubbed the Chaos War begun and the mood and feelings of everybody fighting and suffering in this war was, understandably, horrible. Lylatian – Dog, vulpine, ape, badger and other assorted furry anthropomorphic; human and superhuman fought side by side against the dark tides coming from the now daemon world of Corneria, holding them back and keeping them from occupying any more worlds and preventing more mass sacrifice.
So far Chaos only held the planets outlying Corneria – Katina, Fortuna and several smaller civilised and resort worlds, plus several Cornerian Army defence platforms and stations. The Cornerian forces within that zone were completely routed – either destroyed, sacrificed or turned traitor; the evil that was Chaos finding its' way into the Cornerian soldier's hearts and promising them their deepest, darkest desires in exchange for loyalty.
But fortunately that wasn't the case for the troops sitting in the transport starship following close behind the Great Fox II. The members of the 4th Cornerian Naval Assault Brigade, trained to deal with altercations amongst the stars where it's troops were from most of the civilised worlds in the system, were stalwart as they prepped themselves for battle once again.
In the deployment bay situated near the hold of the transport craft, the soldiers readied themselves. Equipped in near-skin tight specialised green armour which covered their whole bodies with the 4th logo on their right shoulder plating and the Cornerian army insignia on their left shoulder plating, they were each in small groups as they prepped themselves. Their armament ranged from advanced blaster rifles, machine guns, EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) and stun grenades. They were also reviewing the upcoming mission, browsing over their individual squad order just given to them five minutes.
However one of the soldiers kept her distance away from the rest of the platoon. Sitting with her back against some crates, she could easily be set apart from the rest of the platoon as the armour from her arms and legs were missing, revealing only skin-tight green spandex normally worn underneath armour. The back of her head including hair and ears were covered in spandex and her bio-filter mask obscured her face. Her tail was also covered in spandex as well.
What drew attention to her from a couple of the other squads was that her choice of weaponry was a silenced Imperial-forged autogun. The skull motif on the side of the gun made a few of the other soldiers predictable uneasy.
One of the canine soldiers whispered to his squadmate, "Hey, get a load of the FNG with the skinny rifle."
His companion, another dog, nodded and sneered, "Too good to hang around with the men, ain't good enough for a blaster. Has to settle for a Imperial slugger."
Another passing soldier, a grey aardvark, overheard their conversation and hissed at them.
"You tryin' to get us on report?" he sounded nervous, "What d'ya think Command added her to this op at the last minute?"
"Why?"
"She's probably one of them Army Intelligence assassins," the aardvark reasoned, kneeling on the ground beside them, as to not attract attention, especially from her, "Y'know, those guys under orders from the General himself to eliminate the high-risk bastards? Heard one of them nailed that Ork warboss last year."
He stole a glance at the female soldier, eyes quivering slightly and unsettling the rest of the squad
"She's probably here to take out the motherfucker headin' up the smugglers," he explained, "And anyone here who looks like he'll turn traitor."
"Turn traitor? Why would they…?"
"Haven't you read the field reports?" another soldier chimed in, "It said about all those regiments joining the enemy. Whole bloody regiments being corrupted and all that shit by that Chaos junk. I heard the place we're heading to has guys trafficking artifacts for those devil-worshippers."
"What kind of artifacts?"
"The worst kind. The kind I was just talking about."
They all shivered at the thought of going up against anything large, armoured, daemonic or anything remotely human. One of the soldiers noticed the assassin looking their way and immediately turned the other cheek, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. Though the Assassins of the Cornerian Military Intelligence Agency were not well liked by the ordinary soldier for the secrecy, it was never a good idea to draw their attention, unless you wanted to be under their scrutiny.
The assassin gazed at them, before slapping a magazine full of small calibre, caseless ammunition.
----------
"…so you are certain you can hold your position for at least another day?" Jacques stood before the holo-projector, "Governor-Militant Alexander?"
It's just 'General' Alexander, Mortensen, the brown-haired forty-year old human in carapace armour over his uniform responded, And yes, we can hold out against those disease-ridden heretics. The attacks have started to lessen since the Weather control device was damaged…
Jacques frowned as the image started to become grainy, as if experience interference. Since Alexander was currently stationed on Fichina with the 3rd Battalion of the Cadian 412th Regiment, it came to no surprise.
"I am sorry, General," Jacques said apologetically, "We can not communicate for much longer.
Alexander nodded, Understood, I'll keep this brief: The status of the alliance?
"It is holding," Jacques answered, then added, "For the moment at least. We will be there to relieve you as soon as possible."
The general appeared grim, Until then, make sure you keep the Children of Eden alive. The Kronus 1st have invested too much in those alien-worshiping remnants.
"Do not fear," Jacques replied, "For the Emperor."
In his name.
The image disappeared, leaving Jacques standing there in the middle of the bridge, being watched by Falco, ROB and Slippy who had been sitting at the opposite ends of the room, watching the exchange this entire time. The avian was smoking his fifth cigarette for the day while Slippy was playing around with his PDA - Personal Data Assistant, browsing through intel on the upcoming mission.
Jacques and Falco looked at him when he spoke fearfully, "Can't believe it's the same place we went to during the Aparoid Crisis. I don't think they'll be happy to see us again."
He almost jumped when Jacques growled angrily, "They should not, for they deserve death for what they have done."
Falco smiled, "I'm all for it. Seriously, what the hell do they think they'll get outta playing delivery boy for the rotting tin-cans?"
Slippy checked his PDA, "According to the statutes laid down by the Coalition: Death."
"You had to look that up?" Falco deadpanned, "Seriously, Slippy…don't you get tired of being the comic re…?"
The bridge door open and Fox stepped in. Falco cut himself shut when he saw how bedraggled the vulpine looked.
"Enjoy your nap, Fox?" Falco asked him, "I noticed you were asleep on the simulator floor, but since you hardly slept much this past week…"
"Yeah, don't mention it," Fox grumbled, stretching himself gently, "ROB?"
"Online," the robot sprung to life as he walked over towards the console up at the front of the bridge.
"Pull up schematics of the Sargasso station."
"Affirmative."
The holo-projector broadcasted an image of the space station. Everyone present could see that it had changed a lot from the last time they sat foot on, quote Slippy, 'hideout for all sorts of criminals.' Those criminals being thieves, murderers, terrorists, smugglers…just to name a few. Fox looked crim, crossing his arms to see that the station appeared bigger, with several add-ons and extensions where the station could appear to house several hundred. It added defence turrets, missile pods and satellite dishes made it all the more imposing.
Falco tapped his beak, "I see they've made some major renovations. Looks like they managed to fit a shopping mall in there"
"Close enough at least," Slippy said, "The black market, a brothel, even a foot court."
He paused in order to swallow fear.
"Plus those defence guns…"
Jacques sneered and shook his head, "They will not protect them for long."
"What makes you so sure?" Falco inquired.
The Grey Knight caught a glimpse of him, then looked back at the projector and smirked, "For at this moment…the first blow shall be struck from the inside…"
----------
Smuggler boss Gambino, despite his amassed wealth in smuggling rare, exotic, often dangerous archaeological finds for nearly a decade dressed almost as plainly as any other Cornerian businessman. A purple-green kamodo dragon in a grey suit, tie and glasses, he walked through the main plaza of the station under escort by a team of all female vixen guards armed with black market smuggled autoguns. Gambino himself was armed with a 5mm stubpistol, which was holstered in his suit.
Ah…sir?
In his right ear was an earpiece communicator.
"Yes, Michelle?"
You asked me to remind you of a few things on your docket, the female secretarial voice on the other side said, The conference call has been moved to tomorrow, you have your three-fifteen with the eastern-fringe smugglers, and of course there is your two-thirty.
Gambino's eyes widened and he checked his rolex, "My two-thirty, oh dear…"
He shook his head and said to himself.
"…I have no idea where my head is these day."
As he passed by a certain tavern, the sliding door opened and out flew a Rottweiler who landed before Gambino's feet. Bloodied, bruised and his tongue feeling numb from being nearly ripped out of his mouth, Johns groaned as Ui'Jakob stepped out, wrists bloodied and a bruises on the left side of his face. He turned to his side to spit blood, where after wiping his mouth…
"Apologies for the mess, Boss Gambino," Jakob motioned down at Johns, "Not everyone is accepting of other creeds as you are."
Gambino nodded, appearing solemn, "That is a sad fact."
The smuggler then carried on his way, stepping over Johns and towards the main elevator, which took him and his escorts up to the highest level of the station. Tash stepped out of the pub next and noticed his companion looking up at the ascending elevator car, which could easily be seen through the flexi-glass shaft.
"Security station," Jakob said, "Defence emplacement control."
"Access through secured elevator," La'Tash added, "Heavily guarded."
"A way past them," Jakob continued as they walked through the plaza, "Through tight maintenance area through waste sector towards elevator shaft."
"Then we climb it?"
"Yes."
And so they set up accomplishing their mission, all the while Ui'Jakob silently wondering how someone like him could start to feel apathetic about the horrible world he inhabited. He was used to, desensitised even, to the sight of violence and debauchery and normally he would still think about the consequences of his actions and how it affected him and those around him…his friends and allies mostly. But just then when he had single-handedly beaten that gang of drunks into submission, first by grabbing the rottweiler by his tongue as if it was nothing and he, Ui'Jakob, was superior because he believed in the Greater Good. He didn't think about his actions at all, he just did it.
Ui'Jakob slapped his own forehead. He mentally referred to Johns as it, not him.
'I am sick at heart of war,' he thought bitterly to himself, 'I don't think I will truly be myself once it is over.'
----------
In the hangar Fox yawned as he climbed into the cockpit of the Arwing, fastening his iconic communication gear over his head. He tapped the mouthpiece…
"You guys here me?"
Loud and clear Fox, Slippy chirped over the com line, We're heading to the hangar right now.
Try not to fall asleep until we get there, alright Foxy? Falco was snide was again, You gonna be joining the action, Mortensen?
Momentarily, once the space around Sargasso has been secured, Fox heard Jacques over the com, If Gambino is in possession of a Chaos artifact, then it would be only me that could stand before it and not be corrupted.
Fox heard the Grey Knight pause, before continuing with bitterness straining his word.
Well…me, and Krystal, actually.
Fox rubbed his forehead and sighed tiredly, "Urghh!"
Slippy and Falco stepped into the hangar, headsets on and the avian discarding and stomping on his cigarette before they climbed into their Arwings, strapping themselves in and activating their flight computers. As systems powered up Fox looked ahead through the canopy and the long exit shaft leading to outer space, trying his best to not let his vision blur from exhaustion and to keep his mind as sharp as possible for the sake of the mission.
It was true that he hadn't gotten much sleep since last week. Since that first major battle against Chaos, his encounter with Slaanesh her (or him)self and dismissing and consequently breaking up with Krystal, he had exerted and strained himself training with Jacques on how to wield the Eden sword properly. Not to mention his dormant psychic powers, which for the past few days he had tried to disregard. But since Chaos pried on the dormant psychics it was best he knew how to handle himself against daemonic possession, and Jacques was there to guide him.
Even if the Grey Knight couldn't stop reminding him of Krystal, once in a while asking if he would reconsider his decision to drop her from the team. Just a week ago Jacques seemed to fit skewer him with Nemesis for splitting up with Krystal; now whether that subject was brought up he didn't sense any anger in Jacques, only sadness and bitterness towards the vulpine.
He sighed again, shook his head as he rubbed the side of his head to stave away a headache, and closed the Arwing's canopy.
You OK, Fox? Slippy asked over the com line, Please tell me you managed to get a least a few hours sleep?
"Don't worry," Fox responded cooly, "I'm not gonna fall asleep over the controls. Let's just get this op over with and head back to Venom. Sturnn's redeploying the 1st and 2nd Battalions and I'd prefer hanging around them then the Ultramarines."
Canned assholes, Falco grumbled, Jacques' the exception, maybe..
Survelliance around the Sargasso station confirm heavy traffic in and around the area, half of which is confirmed to be military in nature, ROB stated over the com, Recommend that you eliminate these threats to allow the Space Brigade to secure the station...
And where I will also step in, Jacques added, Fox, Slippy, Falco…best of luck.
Fox smiled, appreciating Jacques for the first time in a week, "We'll need as much of it as possible."
He then looked ahead to see the outer doors up ahead open. He gripped hold of the flight controls tightly.
"Team Star Fox, on ME!" Fox shouted determinedly, "MOVE OUT!"
The Arwings were then slingshoted out of the Great Fox and towards the blackness of space, but knowing what laid ahead of them. And following close behind them was the Great Fox II and the Cornerian transport cruiser.
----------
Since the staff of the security centre of the Sargasso station was a mix of vulpine, lupine and canine, they could faintly smell the stench of sewage from behind their terminals. The head among them covered his nose as he stood from behind his computer, his senses telling them that the source was behind the door leading into the centre.
"God," he almost choked, "Who in the hell is coming up from the elevator? The guys working in the waster sector?"
"Hey," one of the other technicians said, "The elevator car's nowhere near this sector."
"Say what?"
One electrical crack latter the doors were forced open and in stepped two figures in trenchcoats armed with silenced stubguns. The head tech immediately went for his sidearm blaster but was hit between the eyes with lead, snuffing his life out and his corpse collapsing onto the ground. The assailants then turned on the other technicians, the sounds of machinery and computers drowning out the suppressed blasts of Imperial forged pistols as they each shot the technicians.
One of the techs went down with a thud, bullet lodged in his chest. He looked up to see one of the intruders was a human underneath his hood but his life was extinguished for good when the human brought his foot down on his neck, killing him.
The human exhaled painfully and removed pulled back his hood, the smell of his stinking clothing doing little to distract him from the fact he and his friend had gunned down mostly unarmed support personnel.
"Alright," Ui'Jakob said, wiping grime from his forehead and turning to La'Tash, "Do it."
La'Tash nodded and holstered his stubpistol in his coat, replacing it with a large square wired device which he proceeded to slap beneath the main terminal which held the large screen displaying the station's statistics and information. He pulled away one of the bodies slumped over the terminal and let it slump down onto the ground, causing Ui'Jakob to shudder slightly.
The device activated and immediately the screen distorted and became filled with static. The lights went off, then klaxons started followed by red engulfing the room. Jakob patted Tash's shoulder and nudged his head towards the door, seeing that the lift was going upwards towards the same floor as the security centre. They moved themselves so that they were against the wall near the door.
When the elevator arrived, the door opened and in stepped two heavily armed guards, immediately taken back by the dead bodies of the technicians and the scrambling of the equipment in the room.
"Shit! We're wide op…"
One of the guards felt the barrel of a gun against the side of his head before Tash squeezed the trigger and splattered blood all over his companion, who raised his machine-gun but felt it get kick out of his hands and into the ceiling as Jakob struck. The human then spun around and landing another kick onto his chest and sending him back into the lift, knocking him out.
Jakob and Tash entered the lift, the door closing behind him. The human then pressed for the button which indicated the detention centre.
Tash looked over at his comrade, "I do not believe the prisoners of the smugglers will be subject to termination by the Cornerians Shas'ui. Only investigation."
Frowning, Ui'Jakob responded, "I will make sure of that."
----------
Fox, Falco and Slippy flew in relative silence ahead of the Great Fox II and the Cornerians cruiser, G-Diffusers set to full flight mode as they sailed across the void of space towards their destinations, the orange-red clouds of a nearby nebula coming into view, signalling that they were closing in on their destination.
The vulpine took his hands off the controls for a second to rub the area between his eyes, still feeling tired.
"God, I feel shattered," he groaned loud, shattering the silence.
It's being a week, what d'ya expect? Falco asked, To be honest, I didn't think anyone could go through a week without any real sleep.
Have you tried talking with Krystal, Fox? Slippy asked concernedly, Maybe that's it. First thing after the mission, talk to her. "About what?" Fox asked. You kidding me? Anything! Slippy gawked, I don't like hearing, and seeing, you so miserable, Fox. It's a letdown for the team. Am I right, Fox?
Slippy then paused, then addressed someone else
Jacques? How about you? What do you think?
Fox groaned again, once again about to listen to Jacques' chip in his two cents on the matter. But before that could happen…
You are approaching Sargasso Space Zone, ROB informed the mercenary fighter wing, Prepare for strike.
"Roger that," Fox said, "You guys ready?"
Hope Jakob's past ready and got his mission done, Falco said, If not, this ain't gonna last long.
Soon the Sargasso space station was in view just up ahead, surrounded by a few large civilian cargo ships, medium sized gun cruisers and about a dozen Venomian-produced fighter craft. Slippy's on board analysis computer automatically deduced the origins of the armed starships coming from Andross and Andrew's abandoned or decommissioned shipyards, judging them from their physical appearance and designs.
"Target's up ahead," Fox stated, "Adjust G-Diffusers for all-range mode."
Roger, Falco responded.
Got it, Slippy said, Adjusting…
The Arwings slowed down and their fighter's wings extended sideways, allowing them for maximum manoeuvrability as they approached the station and immediately the gun cruisers opened fire on them with their long-range cannons. Immediately they adverted the enemy fire, barrel-rolling if need be and immediately concentrating their plasma fire on the nearest gun cruiser, hitting it where its' main engines and reactor would be it.
The cruiser's shield were gradually worn down and a barrage of plasma fire struck that one point on the cruiser an explosion tore through the engines and rendering the cruiser adrift. Fox couldn't resist a smile at their handiwork, and then the enemy fighters came upon them, causing him to grimace as he gripped the controls and manoeuvred around them and towards the space station. The Arwing's pilots realised that the station's defences were down…
"Oi, ROB," Falco spoke into his communicator, "You can bring the ship in now? We could see those missiles right about now?"
And tell the Space Brigade to get ready to breach, Fox was heard over the com, We'll clear the way.
Affirmative, ROB responded.
Falco fired a bomb at another gun cruiser, the explosion tearing through it's shields and destroying it's bridge, leaving it also adrift along with several other fighter craft caught in the explosion. He was then struck from behind by another group of fighter which…
"C'MON, THEN!"
…he proceeded to accelerated, drawing them away from Fox and Slippy and towards the station and skimming across, lowering and rising his Arwing to avoid collision with the structure of the space station, dodging laser blasts courtesy of his pursuers. Suddenly he pulled a tight u-turn and headed straight towards them, barrel-rolling their blasts away and firing back, destroying two of the fighters before flying past the rest and back out into wide open space.
Fox and Slippy teamed up to take on another gun cruiser. They broke away when a high-explosive missile launched by the Great Fox II struck it and tore it into pieces. And through the debris came the Cornerian transport cruiser which headed straight for the target station.
"Hey Slippy," Fox tapped his com, "Are you sure that Brigade is under 'Code Black'?"
Yep, came Slippy's response, The last time Code Black was issued it was nine-years ago during the Lylat Wars
'Shit,' Fox thought, feeling both anxious and tired, 'Hope to God that doesn't include Jakob and Tash.'
----------
Inside the lowest deployment bay of the transport cruiser the soldiers, now fully armed and ready for battle, stood to attention waiting for their superior officer to make the scene. Already standing for a full minute, the whispering begun….
"Hey…remember the briefing? The Good Human himself is in on this battle."
"No kidding! Jumped into one of those devil portals and came back, Cerinian babe in his arms."
"Lucky skinny!"
"Heard he took on dozen monkey-boys armed with a chainsaw."
"Chainsword, dumbass."
"Didn't he punch through a tank once?"
The whispering stopped when a few of them noticed the assassin, still sitting away from them near some crates, looking over them. One of them swallowed anxiously and turned to face the front, where the captain – a brown-furred lupine in armour with blaster rifle slung, walked in, accompanied by the lieutenant, an arctic (possibly Fichina-born) husky.
"Alright, listen up!" the captain exclaimed, "We're strapped for time and those bottom-feeding raiders are already bunkering down so I'll keep this brief: Prepare to dock and breach ten seconds after contact. Secure dock, main plaza, all security stations and barracks. Initiate Code Black: Kill everyone armed or in hands reach of a firearm…no prisoners. And whatever the hell you do… "
He looked over his men grimly.
"…do not go near or TOUCH anything that has the Eight-Pointed Star or any other iconography seen during the briefing. Leave it for the disposal teams to take care of."
He then turned to the female assassin who approached him.
"You have your own orders?"
The shapely assassin nodded and handled her autogun protectively.
"Then carry them out!" the captain barked, "Don't involve me or any of my personnel whatsoever, understand?"
The assassin moved to the back of the troop deployment bay just as the Cornerian transport cruiser docked against the northern side of the space station, it's size allowing it secure all three airlocks used normally for smaller transport shuttles. Almost everyone in the station was armed, almost to the teeth, as their criminal lives demanded and so they were nearly resigned to death due to the Brigade's Orders.
And a certain Grey Knight made sure they knew that.
Attention, denizens of Sargasso…
Everyone present in the station on all floors and levels froze as Jacques' voice came over the comlink and the vibrations of the entire space station shaking as the Cornerian starship attached itself to the side of the station and begun cutting it's way into it.
…you have all been found guilty of dabbling with material belonging to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos. Through your willingness to cooperate with whom you believe would win this war and through your greediness in attempting to profit off such technology and artifacts you have tainted yourselves and are now a black mark against your race. You are traitors to your home system as dictated by the laws and courts and as such your lives a forfeit. Prepare for judgement immediately.
The entire station rocked as the western airlocks situated in the hangar/shipping area burst open and Cornerian troops moved, weapons armed and trigger-fingers itchy. The first victim of the ensuring battle in the Sargasso Space Zone was a sixteen-year old worker who had been grabbed by the nearest avian pirate and used as a shield. His chest was blown out by a Cornerian sergeant, then the avian pirate guard felt the next blaster ray hit him between the eyes, cauterising his eyes lids and frying his brain, causing instant death.
The Cornerian sergeant didn't even bat an eyelid when he realised what just happened. He just bit his lip, feeling the adrenaline course through his system with the thought that these…Lylatians…were helping Chaos with it's dirty work.
Not caring that he would be mimicking the zealotry of the Imperial Guard, he shouted out loud, "C'MON, BOYS! DOWN WITH THE FUCKIN' TRAITORS! KILL EM' ALL"
So what do you think? Things are going a bit slow I admit, but that comes with reestablishing the characters, their personalities, hopes and whatever dreams they have left.
Don't hesistate to review, I appreciation your opinions.