"Toward Sargasso," Fox repeated in slight disbelief. "And what will we accomplish moving the Great Fox in that direction?"
"I just thought it would be harder for hostiles to target the Great Fox if it were further from Aquas. But we can't simply leave it here in orbit."
"Ben's got a point," Slippy said. "We leave the Great Fox here, and it'll b-be scrap metal by the time we get back. But I'm n-not sure it has the fuel reserves to stop midway, basically in the middle of nowhere."
"How about a wider orbit?" Ben asked. "Helps conserve fuel, and the Great Fox is harder to reach."
"I like the idea," Falco said, finally breaking his silence. "And don't let anyone know about it. Peppy had already relayed the original orbit to Aquas, and that's what is compromised."
"Any objections?" Fox asked.
"No," both Slippy and Ben said at the same time.
"All right," Fox said with a deep breath. "ROB, bring the Great Fox out to a higher orbit. Let's double what was originally planned. And make sure you're outside of geosynchronous orbit."
Originally, the plan was to leave the Great Fox in orbit fairly close to Aquas, thanks to the military base that was in contact with Corneria. But after the skirmish, Fox knew inside geosynchronous orbit was suicide for ROB. And at G.O. was even worse. Because the Great Fox would have been essentially locked over one location on Aquas. It would have made for very easy tracking, and it didn't matter if it was friend or foe.
A couple of seconds later, a reply in ROB's trademark monotone sounded in their headsets. "Affirmative." The Star Fox team watched from their Arwings as the engines began glowing a vibrant yellow, and the Great Fox slowly edged its way to a higher orbit around Aquas.
"We've got a few hours to reach Sargasso. Nobody lose focus," Fox warned.
"We're right behind you," Falco replied.
The four Arwings turned and began heading toward Sargasso.
After about two hours of staring at a black sky painted with bright dots, Ben realized how difficult space travel really was. And how difficult it was for him to keep focused. Without a threat in front of you, it was easy to simply drift off to sleep. Sure, there was an autopilot feature on the Arwings, and it was engaged, but an assault could happen from seemingly out of nowhere. Space was that big. You set a course, follow it, and hope to get there within a reasonable time.
To help himself keep focused, Ben concentrated on his breathing. It was a challenge for him not to make it too loud, or else Fox, Falco or Slippy would have guessed he was sleeping. He was working into a nice rhythm, feeling his senses reawakening after that jolt with the Venomian skirmish at Aquas.
Dogfights are the easy part, he thought. How someone could stay awake in such a boredom-inducing environment was beyond him. Not even the Cornerian military trained for this.
"Kid, you're losing your place in the formation," Falco chided. "We've still got about thirty minutes to go."
Ben grunted in mild surprise as he heard Falco's voice crackle over the headset. "Got it," he replied, pulling the yoke to his left to get back into formation. It took a lot more effort to move his Arwing back toward the rest of the Star Fox team, almost like he was piloting in air again.
Something's not right, he thought. Perhaps whatever it was would simply go away before too long.
Without warning, the console in front of Ben chirped at him, bringing his attention to the radar screen. A blip was approaching quickly from behind his Arwing and from the left. Ben instinctively tugged on the yoke to bring his Arwing further left, but the object was moving too quickly for him to get out of the way. In a last-ditch attempt at getting out of the path, Ben slammed his feet down onto the G-diffuser pedals and fired his thrusters. He felt the familiar jolt of sudden acceleration, but a second later, the object had caught up to him anyway.
His last thought before impact was missile.
There was no explosion. The object collided with the back of Ben's Arwing from slightly underneath, taking out his bottom two G-diffusers. He grunted in shock as the Arwing lurched forward and nosed down suddenly.
"I'M HIT!" Ben shouted into his headset. His feet were glued to the floor with the G-diffuser pedals, but the lack of two of the diffusers made his ride extremely rough. Just like in the dogfighting drills.
Ben's Arwing pitched forward from the impact just as Fox's voice rang out through his headset.
"Get back on track, kid! Fifteen degrees upward, and you got it."
Ben pulled the yoke upward in an attempt to regain control, but he felt the blood draining slowly from his head.
"I can't! Status screen shows two G-diffusers offline!"
"Ben, radar is showing a d-debris cloud just b-below your position," Slippy shouted. "You've gotta figure out a way to get out of there!"
Ben groaned as he willed himself to pull back on the yoke. Even if he passed out, he thought he might be able to make it. From inside the cockpit, he heard the two working G-diffusers straining in overdrive before they went silent. Immediately after, a sudden jolt rocked through Ben's Arwing as he was knocked nearly senseless from the sudden onset of actual g-forces. His status screen chirped again, showing all four of his G-diffusers were offline.
"All G-diffusers offline!" Ben quickly shouted into his headset.
He heard either Fox or Falco say something into the headset, but he wasn't listening. Ben was completely focused on getting away from the debris cloud, because there probably was another chunk of something ready to tear straight through his Arwing.
Ben pulled the yoke further toward him in an effort to move away from the debris. It didn't take long for him to feel the discomfort of acceleration as he was pushed backward into his seat. It was hard to move his arms, and even breathing was a chore.
On the edge of blackness, he lost most of his remaining strength, and his arms slowly relaxed, nosing the Arwing down. It didn't take long for him to regain most of his thoughts as his blood slowly reentered his head, but the radar screen in front of him still showed the exact debris cloud Slippy mentioned earlier, the blips seeming to merge with each other.
In this emergency, the first thought that entered Ben's mind was, What would cause a debris cloud in the middle of nowhere?
It had to be something with some kind of gravitational attraction. I wonder if I can use that to my advantage, he thought. Instead of fighting the gravity, perhaps he could use it to accelerate himself out of its orbit.
"Let's try something crazy," he mumbled into his headset. And without warning the rest of the Star Fox team, he continued nosing the Arwing down slightly, gunning the thrusters. Predictably, he was shoved backward into his seat, but the g-forces were much more tolerable. He was being pushed back into his seat, not down.
"No, kid! The other way!" Falco shouted.
Fox noticed what Ben was onto after a few seconds. "Falco, his G-diffusers are offline!" He turned his attention to Ben. "All right, kid! Now slowly edge your way out!"
"I knew we got the right pilot," Falco said with a grin, trying to hide his confusion from a few seconds ago.
"What is c-causing a d-debris cloud here!?" Slippy shouted into his headset.
Ben had made about a quarter of a circle with the debris cloud when he felt the intense g-forces from acceleration slowly fade. He knew he was moving away from the source of the cloud as he watched his radar screen slowly clear itself of blips.
"Reduce speed," Fox instructed his wingmates. "We're gonna wait for the kid to catch up to us."
Instead of banking away from the debris cloud, Ben simply rode the boost in speed around the source to catch up to Fox and company. He wasn't sure if he could perform a U-turn with his Arwing in this shape.
"Once we dock at Sargasso, I'll need help fixing the Arwing," Ben said into his headset. And waited.
"Kid, you're…" was the reply. Ben thought it might have been Fox, but the voice was too garbled to actually tell who it was. He only knew his message wasn't getting to his wingmates. Luckily, it wouldn't take long for him to reconvene with them anyway.
As he completed his orbit, Ben noticed a diffuse flash of light blue, followed by the image sharpening into three distinct Arwings at a distance. Like it was a mirage that somehow became real.
"Let's not go through that again," he suggested as he approached the other three members of Star Fox.
"What were you asking about a few seconds ago?" Fox asked.
"Oh. The Arwing's G-diffusers need to be repaired," Ben replied after a short second of thinking.
"If you can't make it to Sargasso, you'll need to head back to the Great Fox," Falco said.
"I can fly just fine," Ben clarified. "It's just that I'm at a disadvantage in a dogfight."
"D'you wanna chance it?" Falco asked. He was referring to Ben continuing to Sargasso without a completely functional Arwing.
"I didn't sign up for this just to go back home," Ben said without missing a beat.
"Onward, then," Fox said, grinning. As Ben caught up to the other three pilots, they continued their trek toward the Sargasso Station.
For what it was worth, Ben thought it was easier to stay awake now that part of his Arwing wasn't functioning. He had something to distract himself with, rather than just staring out into an empty expanse of space. It was an oddly peaceful feeling, not having to talk with anyone, not having to be bothered by some demand or other. The only sound he heard was the constant hum of the Arwing's engines and his own breathing.
The four Arwing pilots had to approach their top speed a lot more slowly, now that Ben's Arwing had no G-diffusers left. It was uncomfortable for him at about three g's, but that was it. No threat of passing out.
"Estimated t-time for visual confirmation is now two hours," Slippy informed the other three pilots.
"Is that it?" Ben asked.
Just barely visible in the blackness of space was a structure that didn't resemble any kind of star, planet or asteroid. As the four Arwings drew closer, the structure slowly morphed from a small, nondescript point into something that more resembled a space station.
"That would be it," Falco said.
"Wolf's hired guns usually keep a close radius," Fox explained. "Be aware of any blips on your radar screen."
"Do we let them know we're here?" Ben asked.
"No," Fox said, answering the question for the entire team. "What you saw at Aquas would be the same problem here if we announced ourselves. We get in, assess the situation, and get out."
"Reducing speed," Slippy announced into his headset.
"Copy."
Ben felt a gentle nudge forward as he eased off the throttles. Already, he missed the convenience of having G-diffusers at his disposal.
Everything was silent in Ben's cockpit, except for the whine of the engines. He was expecting an ambush any moment, which seemed to make his heart beat audible as well.
"Eyes open. This is about the distance for an attack," Fox said after a few moments of silence.
The four Arwings continued toward the now-gigantic station looming in front of them. Two asteroids were visible in the far background as small rocks. Ben's radar showed no blips, except for the massive station directly ahead.
"ET…A f-five…minutes," Slippy said haltingly.
Ben kept quiet, hearing the soft whine of his Arwing's engines. His heart was still pounding.
As the details of the station revealed themselves, Fox said, "Docking ports are facing us, about midway up the structure. There are four of them. Kid, you're first because your Arwing won't work in a dogfight."
"Copy," Ben radioed back. He noticed all four of the docking ports were open, almost as if Wolf and his crew were ready for them. Semi-randomly, he chose the port on the right, touching down on the station's platform. The bay door automatically closed behind his Arwing once it made contact with the station.
Red lights lazily flashed, indicating the chamber was pressurizing. Over the course of about three minutes, sound began filtering into Ben's cockpit as a distinct whirring noise. Probably the vents charging the bay with air.
Suddenly, the red lights flashed green and stayed that way. Ben opened his canopy glass, unbuckled himself and slowly crept down onto the station's surface. He unlatched the snap for his blaster, ready to whip it out in case someone attacked.
He explored the hangar, wondering how to open the inner bay doors from the outside. He was moving toward the doors when they began cranking open. A seam of light appeared halfway between the floor and the ceiling and spread vertically as the doors opened. Instinctively, Ben strode toward a corner, anticipating an ambush.
But the area around the hangars appeared to be deserted. No Wolfens, unless there were more bays scattered around the station. No representative from Star Wolf or any mercenaries for that matter.
Ben cautiously stepped into the large, open area of the Sargasso station, noticing Slippy was to his left. The bay doors for the other two hangars were just barely beginning to open.
Ben acknowledged Slippy with a quick nod and turned his attention back into the open area.
And without warning, a bright flash of light appeared with a noise that sounded somewhat like a blaster shot. Slippy grunted in shock and stumbled backwards, his eyes unfocused and his legs just barely under his control. His back crashed into the wall behind him, and he slumped to the floor, unmoving.