New Dawn
The three fighters remained in a tight formation after completing their steep ascent. Below them lay the massive spherical glow which lined Corneria's surface, streaking across were strands of lush greens and arid tans, dispersed throughout were curving clouds and their liquid bound cousins of oceans and seas. It was unique among most of the Lylat's planet's, primarily because of its exceptional balance; Zoness was often too hot, and had too much water, whereas Macbeth or Fichina were cold and empty, and were not suitable places to sustain life on their own merit. Fortuna was seen by most outsiders to be an overwhelming and almost mystical place, bearing similar qualities found on Corneria, but possessing them in ways that were vast and extreme, and this was considered true not only for the environment, but also the inhabitants.
"Orbit check… we're almost within the assigned inclination, it won't take long…" The lead pilot stated, analyzing the encrypted telemetry on his fighter's main screen.
"Hey, Fox, how big do you think our rooms are going to be, huh? You thinking, tuna can, or presidential suite?" Falco asked over the squad's communication channel.
Fox rolled his eyes; an action that he knew would go unnoticed without his screen capture enabled. "Does it really matter, Falco? We're going to be staying in a military ship, it's not like they're treating us any differently than they'd treat Bill, at least not to my knowledge…" The vulpine ended with a distinct resignation to the limit of his understanding.
"Just wait 'till you see the ship, it looks a lot bigger from the inside than it does from the outside." Bill answered, knowing very well that he was evading Falco's original question.
The formation continued upwards until they were entirely clear of the atmosphere, their engines engaged automatically to match their predetermined velocity so that they'd soon be on a course to intercept their target. Procedures like these were extremely common, and were often overlooked by pilots who rarely left the safe confines of their planet's influence; the execution of such rendezvous' were necessary for military applications more often than civilian, and required a determined patience as well as an eye for precision.
It was almost fifteen minutes before their target came into view. It was a decently sized ship, probably about one and a half Great Foxes in length, and it was being escorted by two smaller destroyers on either side. In standard Cornerian fashion, the ship bore a numbered designation on its right side next to its name in bold purple lettering. The base of the ship itself was a subdued light gray, overplayed only by the lettering as well as similarly colored stripes running across the length of the ship. Another aspect that the pilot's immediately noticed was that the ship was of a more flattened shape than others of its kind, many had bulky shapes and vertically oriented structures that made the main part of the ship look like giant boxes, even the Great Fox had a considerably taller construction.
Since the other two pilots were still taking in the sight before them, Bill found it within himself to extol the capabilities of the approaching "There she is, one of the newest additions to the Cornerian Third Fleet, the SAV-New Dawn… The SAV part stands for Special Assault Vessel; it's what they call ships when they don't know what else to classify them as." He noted. Although hybridization was a method pursued on and off by the Cornerian Military, it was slowly becoming more common to see medium sized vessels which contained both offensive and aircraft storage capabilities such as this one; however, they were often unnecessary when compared to the number of specialized ships usually contained within a larger fleet, and were often reserved to support roles rather than assigned to directly confrontational positions.
The fighter formation drew closer until the cruiser was in full view; Bill led them around towards the bow, so that the other pilots could see just where they'd be staying indefinitely. Falco pointed from his cockpit towards an especially visible protrusion coming from the lower part of the cruiser.
"Is, that… is that cannon Phoenix made?" He asked, his eyes wide from sheer incredulity.
"Sure is…" Bill answered, confident. "Fresh from the factory, too. Things could punch a hole in Class B armor hull at 200 kilometers, not that the rules of engagement would ever allow it." He noted.
After slowing down and carefully circling the exterior, the triad turned parallel to ship's direction so that they could head towards the carrier's aft, where they would soon enter and land.
Breaking the deafening silence, Bill spoke up once more through the team's channel. "Alright, boys, I know how casual you were when landing on your own ship, but this is the real deal. Just follow my lead and remain in a looping pattern until you have clearance."
"Copy…" Fox answered.
"Understood." Said Falco.
Bill pulled away from the others and began to fly in his own direction. The other's stayed back and patiently waited their turns like the good little pilots they were.
"SAV- New Dawn, this is Icepick Two-One, I'm approaching the final leg of my pattern, requesting landing clearance."
"Received Icepick Two-One, welcome home. You're clear to land, port one."
~X~X~X~X~X~
The "Landing" if you can call it that was the smoothest one that the pilots had ever felt; it took almost no effort on their part as they floated through the two layers of the aqueously textured translucent film and into the tight reaches of hanger bay, where they were immediately held onto by mechanical arms which pulled them individually into their own perfectly sized spaces.
Once everything was clear and his Arwing had come to a complete stop, Fox hopped out of his cockpit and onto the synthetic texture of the carrier's floor for the first time, his green duffel bag slung across his shoulder. He was immediately greeted by a couple of disgruntled looking technicians whom were somewhat taken aback by the vulpine's sudden gesture.
"Oh, um… Sorry, I do that all the time." Fox attempted to dispel their worries, but their unchanging expressions didn't bode well for his hopes of success.
Great, five seconds on this ship and I've already given them reasons for the whole mercenary stigma. Fox thought to himself. He then gave the two a nod and stepped awkwardly towards the main platform where the others were now waiting. The ships were stored in a similar manner as that of his former ship; they were arranged horizontally and stacked on two levels. By the looks of it, Fox could see that there were a total of six other fighters currently ready to fly, with more perhaps waiting in case others needed a swift replacement. The capacity of the ship was unsuitable for maintaining a larger fleet, but for your average mercenary, a ship of this size and capability could have them set for life.
One particular piece of interest inside the hanger was the craft that rested at the opposite end of where Fox had been placed. It was larger than most fighters, which undoubtedly made it less maneuverable than his air superiority designed Arwing, but also provided more room to place a wide assortment of armaments, and big ones at that.
"Fox! Stop staring at Wiley's toy and follow me, there's stuff to do…"
"Right, sorry…" Fox shook his head, slightly embarrassed at the fact that he'd already gotten off the wrong foot with his attempt at looking professional instead of the gawking novice that he was making himself out to be. Honestly, Falco was doing a better job at this than he was, but of course, that wouldn't last long.
Bill led the others to where the platforms converged into the structural spine which comprised the central corridor to the ship's upper level. At first glance, the vulpine could tell the layout was a combination of traditional Cornerian design as well as that generally found on experimental craft he'd had the privilege of exploring years before. As the three pilots moved further down the hallway, they were forced to step aside to make room for personnel travelling in the opposite direction, almost all of whom initially glanced over with strange looks as Fox and Falco were the only ones they'd seen so far wearing something other than standard issue olive drab.
"Ok now, let's see… our room is, right here." Bill stopped at an unremarkable door, which opened up as soon as he swiped his paw across a built-in biometric scanner.
"Our room?" Falco restated. "Damn it…"
"You honestly didn't think we'd give you your own room, did you? This is a nice ship, but it's not a first-class Zonessian resort." Bill walked in first and the others followed. It was precisely what Fox had expected and evidently what Falco had dreaded. Two bunks, one on each side, with a door that presumably led to the necessary facilities in the dead center of the opposite wall.
"Pick whichever beds you want, I don't care. Just don't take that one." Bill said, pointing with his thumb towards the left side bottom-bunk, which already had someone's belongings strewn about it.
"Four beds… so there are four of us?" Fox asked, eager to know the identity of the other member of their wing.
"Five actually, but the fifth member won't be staying with us." Bill's allusion was initially unclear, and both Fox and Falco found themselves picking apart his words in an effort to decipher the meaning. Was there no room? Was the fifth member some crazy guy who lived in the air vents and came out only when desperately needed?
"Come on, drop your stuff and let me go introduce you." After that, Fox and Falco threw their belongings on their chosen bunks (on opposite sides of the room) and promptly followed the bulldog.
They hadn't been told much about the Cornerian military vessel they would now be staying on, nor had they been properly informed of the team's armaments, protocol, or even members. But they knew that Bill liked to reveal things by bringing them directly to the source, oftentimes letting others whom he found more qualified to describe the situation.
Leading them down the spine of the ship, it was more of the same; barracks, officer's quarters, and the occasional maintenance room were scattered throughout the slightly curved walls and lit individually by a back glow which displayed its accessibility to outsiders.
Soon they came to an area which was far more open than the tight spaces they'd been in just before. There were bluish-gray tables arranged in a symmetrical pattern, enough of them to hold three-quarters of the ship's crew at any given time, and furthermore, laid out along the far side edge was a counter, and a mess of equipment that Fox could only conclude must be the kitchen.
"Nice mess hall…" The vulpine commented, taking a quick guess at the total capacity of the crew based upon the number of tables and accompanying seats. "…at least, the design's much better than the 'grab whatever the hell you can out of the pantry' method."
"The food here's honestly better than what I've had on any other Cornerian vessel, though ships like these usually carry the best ingredients no matter where they're going." Bill said before leading them to the backmost corner of the mess hall.
As they moved further along Bill's path, they were greeted by two pairs of rising eyes which had just noticed the distinctly unique sight of two non-uniformed personnel approaching their table. One of them, a mustelid figure, stood up from his seat to greet them, while the other, a white female poodle, followed soon after.
"Nice to see you back, Bill." The weasel spoke up, shaking paws with the veteran pilot. "And these must be the contractors we were told about." He looked towards the Fox and Falco with a shallow expression of respect.
"Captain, Lieutenant, let me introduce you to our new wing mates, Specialist McCloud and Specialist Lombardi." The bulldog proclaimed, stepping aside so that the new members could be properly acquainted. "They'll be staying with us for the duration of our deployment."
"Captain Wiley Wiesel, former Husky Squadron, you guys helped us out a ton on Katina." He stated, gesturing a vigorous shake to each of the newly acquainted pilots. "Most of us wouldn't have made it without your intervention."
"Thanks, we were doing our job just like you." Fox commented with a humble tone.
"I know, but still, the things you accomplished at such a young age are legendary, and that goes for your whole team." Wiley praised, sounding almost like an adoring fan wanting to receive Fox's autograph.
"Did you say Husky Squadron?" Falco repeated. "So you've worked with Bill before?"
"Of course he has," Bill spoke up, interrupting any response that Captain Wiesel might have offered to the avian. "Wiley's been one of the go-to air-to-ground specialists ever since the war ended, in fact, he was specifically chosen for this operation even before I was."
"Commander, you're making me blush!" Wiley joked playfully.
"Right…" Bill shook his head, changing his focus to the nearby poodle who had been waiting patiently in the corner. "Now I'll introduce you to-"
"Lieutenant Fay?" Fox answered, cutting Bill's sentence off midway. She stepped outward from her corner, revealing her relatively small figure to the other members of the team.
"Uh… yes, I take it you two have met?"
"We were involved in the aviation combat exhibitions on Papetoon a few years back, I believe McCloud was there demonstrating Space Dynamics' Hyperwing model."
"That's right… A fine piece of engineering, it's a shame it was never widely adopted." Fox commented.
"Well, looks like everyone here's hit it off pretty well…" Bill began, noticing how well the group seemed to already be getting along. "Now I know traditionally, the procedure is to have everyone train and live together for at least a few weeks, but since this whole operation is being conducted on such short notice, we can't afford to have such luxuries. And since we're all familiar with standard operating procedures, there should be no conflict of objectives."
"First thing's first," Falco queried, raising his voice. "When are we moving out? I'm eager to fly again with my weapons hooked up."
"Later today, we'll receive a team briefing and then begin the operation. In the meantime, though, why don't you all show McCloud and Lombardi around? I have some… Important officer business I need to attend to with the general." Bill stated in an awkward attempt to leave the other pilots by themselves."
"No problem, Commander, I'd be happy to…" Wiley said, throwing his paw forward as to lead the team on a first class tour through the ship.
~X~X~X~X~X~
The pilots sat motionless inside of the densely packed briefing room, waiting eagerly for the senior officer to arrive and begin speaking at the nearby podium. The room was arranged so that two sets of padded blue chairs lay in square shaped patterns so that a large open walkway lay between them. It was a common layout for practically all Cornerian vessels, though Fox usually conducted his briefings either while on the bridge or while actually preparing to fly. Fox, Bill, and Falco sat in the front row, closest to where the speaker's podium was, while in the row behind them, Wiley and Fay were also waiting along with the pilots belonging to the other wings.
"Wasn't he supposed to be here five minutes ago? How much longer is he going to take?" Falco asked, leaning towards Fox with a whisper.
"I don't know… He'll be here soon…" Fox assured, though in his mind he wasn't sure of the General's presence himself.
"Don't make a scene guys, remember, you need to make an impression…" Bill spoke softly towards the two, making sure that the pilots in the rows behind them were unaware of their hushed voices.
"Sorry." Fox muttered in a voice so quiet that he himself could barely hear it.
In what could only be described as a startling relief, the room was suddenly occupied by the sounds of more boots trotting along the cold metal floor. The room's collective eyes were suddenly drawn to the figure of the briefing officer, who without hesitation made his way towards the podium, tossing down an assortment of files and papers so that they landed on the top of its wooden frame.
'Finally…' Everyone thought, but kept themselves from saying.
The General eyed Fox and then Falco, nodding his head to acknowledge their presence in the front row.
"Good day gentlemen… and Lieutenant Fay…" He began, correcting himself so as not to offend the only female pilot amongst the sea of testosterone. "And welcome to the SAV-New Dawn. You probably already know who I am, but in case you don't, I'm General Sommers, and I've been put in charge of this overseeing this operation by the Joint Chiefs of the Cornerian Military. I believe that with our efforts, along with that of reestablishing a foothold for the hybrid forces currently stationed on Fortuna, we can take back that which has been forcibly removed within the past couple weeks."
The general spoke in a strong, direct manner, switching his gaze sporadically from his notes and then back towards the listening audience in front of him.
"First off, I'd like to introduce two of our guests, Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi. These two pilots were crucial in operations during the Great Lylat War, and they have years of experience behind them. Now I know they're technically civilians, but you'll treat them and respect them as one of your own, they're here on their own accord. You will refer to them formally as Specialist McCloud and Specialist Lombardi."
Falco felt a warm feeling in his chest at the mere commendation of 'specialist', though in truth, there wasn't much else to call them as they didn't fit inside any other connotatively positive definition according to the military paradigm.
"Our mission is a simple one, yet that doesn't mean it will be easy. The FLF, or the Fortunan Liberation Front as they prefer to call themselves, have taken a large chunk of the main northern continent, the patch of land that we can see here." A three-dimensional map of Fortuna popped up on the round display table sitting next to the podium, highlighting the web in which territory had just been overrun. "Our first job is to make sure that the weapons storage warehouses inside of our now commandeered bases no longer pose a threat to our installations as well as the greater area. Some of these weapons are highly sensitive and need to be eliminated before they can use them as leverage against us."
Fay raised her paw in the air.
"Yes, Lieutenant Fay?"
"Question, General; if these weapons are already obtained by the FLF, how do we know they haven't already moved them outside of the storehouses?"
"Most of the weapons have been deactivated and made inoperable; also, what we do know is that they have yet to obtain the means of moving any of the weapons outside of their designated locks. However, it will only be a matter of time before they're able to reactivate them for usage, although for these weapons, they have no feasible means to deploy them yet, so we need to make sure they're eliminated before they have the opportunity."
Fay slowly lifted her paw back to its previously raised position.
"Sir… are you saying that our stockpiles are completely unguarded? Don't the local forces have any contingency plans in case something like this happens?"
General Sommers took an unnaturally long pause before answering. "They… are supposed to. There's a failsafe in place that causes the weapon to lock up in case an unauthorized user attempts to activate them, although we're not sure yet if their capabilities allow them to bypass this."
A majority of the pilots shifted their positions in a display of their uncertainty. They hadn't been informed of much of what was going on yet, in fact, most of what they'd gathered had come from news channels rather than actual military intelligence. The fact that the FLF had been able to overtake what were supposed to be well guarded military outposts was a sign that they weren't just a bunch of ragtag revolutionaries.
"As I said… our primary mission is to eliminate the stockpiles so that they no longer pose any greater threat. With the limited number of forces we have at our disposal, launching an immediate, conventional counter-attack is an impractical gesture, as we're currently unsure of the enemy's capabilities." General Sommers then pressed a button on the edge of the podium, which activated the next display on the planetary map.
"Now then… our secondary mission will be to disrupt the FLF's command and control centers, which have allowed them thus far to operate with specific goals in mind as opposed to a fully decentralized insurgency force. Their base of operations has been set up in the northern capital of Serkapye, General Kosi made quite a scene when he personally removed the Cornerian flag from the top of the embassy. During our upcoming airstrikes, we'll be targeting places well outside of the capital, as they've actually bothered to establish air defenses to protect Kosi's ass."
This time, another paw was raised, though it came from the back row and Fox had yet to exchange names with its canine bearer. "General, if I'm not mistaken, the FLF operates not as a single body but more as an idea, how are we going to kill our way out of it?"
General Sommers sighed, though the question was not directed to be offensive, he found it somewhat meaningless and irrelevant. His response was delivered with an immediate withdrawal of complacency. "That's not our duty, I'm afraid. Our job is to make sure that the Cornerian and Fortunan citizens are safe from any danger posed by the FLF. Kosi and his followers hold the belief that the Cornerians are the cause of all their problems ranging from major economic variances to the toilets not flushing right. They've been able to establish such a monopoly on information that even the more combative factions see a high rate of approval."
The general continued on with his briefing for the next few minutes, going over procedures for orbital descent and rendezvous before concluding on matters relating to the forces involved in the combat operations. Though the formalities of such military operations were in a sense new to both Fox and Falco, their reserve training at the Cornerian Flight Academy made up for their lack of familiarity.
General Sommers then dismissed the group and headed off to the aft direction of the ship; as the other pilots began to stand up, they clustered together in their individual groups, going over the more important aspects as a unit.
"So… what everyone's thought about the operation in general?" Bill asked his own squadron, whom had gathered around their own part of the briefing room and formed a circle.
"I'm no stranger to strict rules of engagement…" Fox spoke up first. "From what I understand, these missions involve taking out precise targets at a moment's notice, and we're more than capable of picking off anyone who's foolish enough to engage us while in the air. We'll be fine."
"Wiley?"
The weasel looked at each of the other members intently, a smile ran across his slim muzzle. "I'm ready to get out there and have some fun… We'll show these revolutionary bastards what real firepower looks like."
"Good… What about you, Fay?"
The poodle brushed a couple of fingers across her drooping ear. "Same as Wiley, General Kosi will never know what hit him. I just hope we can put a stop to this before they force any more people out of their homes…"
Bill nodded. "Falco?"
"Huh?" The bird twisted his head back towards the group. Apparently, the loud air vent on the ceiling was more important than squad cohesion. "Oh, um… Yeah, they don't a chance… I mean, you guys and Fox, yeah, the enemy better stack their defenses, but all of us put together?" He gestured sarcastically with a flap of his feathers.
"Forget about it…"
~X~X~X~X~X~
"Forget about it, if we can't fit it inside, then we might as well abandon this method of delivery altogether."
"But this is the only one that gives us the necessary range we need while still maintaining a low profile, without it we-"
The voices were interrupted by the hiss of a nearby pressure driven door. Inside walked a figure whom by his mere presence immediately put an end to their heated debate. He sat down next to them, remaining silent until an adequate amount of time had passed.
"Have you made any progress?"
"Y-Yes, sir." One of the voices, a female with a somewhat nervous tinge, replied. "We've reduced the size so that it fits inside of a standardized repulsion car, however, we've yet to maintain the estimated yield that the Cornerians were able to get it to."
"Well, make changes to it as soon as possible, change the delivery system if you have to, but don't make it too conspicuous."
"General Kosi, sir… If I might ask… why do this in the first place? All it will do is damage our own infrastructure and possibly bring harm to our own cause."
The civet paused, but turned back towards the technician with a collected gaze. "On the contrary, it will strengthen our cause by giving off the appearance of indiscriminate attacks by the Cornerians. If we can make them out to be striking civilian dense areas with their own weapons, then we'll only strengthen the resolve that the masses have against our imperialist enemy. The Cornerians will learn soon enough that their dark ways will soon fade under the shining light that is Fortuna. Once we stand as one, Corneria will steal our future from under us no more."
General Kosi balled up his fist in a motion of antagonism, yet released it as not to startle his carefully attentive assistant. His whole life, he grown under the impression that Fortuna could only achieve greatness if it severed its ties from the planet which only wished to take as much as it could from the blooming flower before it withered away. Cornericentrism, he believed, was the true reason for their inability to rise; as long as they assumed superiority over everyone else under the guise of being united as one, Fortuna, no matter how beautiful and resilient it was, would be sucked dry until it was another sphere of lifelessness which pervaded these billions of stars.
If only the decisions were placed into his command, then he could right the wrongs, make everything better, and make everything the way it was supposed to be. For too long, decisions had been made by groups of unknown individuals whom failed to represent the true desires of Fortuna, instead exploiting the planet for only what benefited Corneria. The devastation was certainly not their fault, but they were still being forced to pay for the reclamation of what was not even theirs.
For years he'd seen the Cornerians come and take whatever they could so that their own cities could be replenished at the expense of Fortuna's, and every single time, they were backed by the authorities whom allowed it to happen without any form of compensation.
As long as the corrupting influence of those tied to Corneria remained, Fortuna would never be strong.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Author's Notes:
Hey, I know it's been a while since I posted the last chapter, actually it's been quite a while. Just so you know, I haven't abandoned this story a couple chapters in like what I did with- Oh, never mind…
I hope you enjoyed it, that is, if you managed to get this far. Well, obviously you managed to get this far, after all you're reading these notes, so the fact that you're doing so precludes the possibility of you not getting this far… I think.
Anyways, until next time!
