No Going Back

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All copyright goes to Nintendo. I don't own anything from One Piece or the Aliens Franchise either.

In orbit over Katina

Admiral Pellew sat at his desk in his private quarters on his flagship, the CWS Resolute. The bulky, middle aged falcon was pondering. The battleship was stationed over orbit of Katina, shoring up the planet's space and surface defences, after that, and once troop transport vessels arrived from Corneria, they would then move against the enemy on Fichina. She was accompanied by her sister ship, the Defiance, three heavy cruisers, four destroyers, eight corvettes and two heavy fighter carriers, each carrying over 200 fighters and bombers. A formidable fighting force to reckoned with.

It was over Katina, in the midst of the Second Fleet, that the Commander-in-Chief was pondering over his strategies. It's all coming together he thought, sipping his brandy as he observed the star chart on the desk. He was off duty, but as the Commander-in-Chief of the Cornerian Armed Forces, and unlike his predecessor, 'Faint Hart', he was never idle.

He had managed to clear up most of the former Grand Admiral's mess, and had managed to salvage some goodness out of the situation. The mood of the star chart had changed in the recent two weeks, with the Cornerian Alliance gaining some ground here and losing some there, the same with the Spice Syndicate. He had had to made more then a few drastic decisions in order in preserve what forces they had left and to give them hope for future opportunities of counterattack.

Upon his promotion from vice admiral to admiral and Commander-in-Chief, he had made changes in command. Whilst he could not get rid of all of Hart's cronies in the armed forces, needing their experience and influence in these dire times, Edward Pellew was determined to ensure that he had capable commanders who answered to HIM, men and women of action that knew when to be aggressive and when to be cautious in both attack and defence. It had led to some quick promotions on the spot and with some younger officers jumping ahead of their own superiors in the chain of command.

Colonel Rommel had been promoted to Field Marshal, making him responsible for all of the land forces, his only conditions for accepting this promotion had been that he was not taken off the battlefield and that his forces would always be well equipped and supplied before combat. Pellew had had little objection to these conditions, confirming his hunch on the brown foxes capabilities. Commodore Smoker had jumped up to the position of vice admiral, ahead of several of Hart's candidates, his second in command, Tashigi, had been promoted to captain, their condition being to fight full front against their enemy. This gave them the command of the Fourth Fleet over Aquas and the responsible of conducting raids on the enemy positions on Zoness and relieving the pressure on Macbeth. Other capable and competent junior commanders had skipped the line of command to ensure that Admiral Pellew possessed an efficient group of generals.

Other drastic changes had included drawing new lines on the star chart, falling back to a stronger defensive line in some areas, whilst in areas conducting risky operations deep into enemy territory to establish strong forward attack posts. Zoness had been abandoned to the Spice Syndicate, there being no intelligent life there to recruit and no vital war resources to exploit. The Cornerian Army had taken everything that they could of use off world, so the occupation of Zoness had been a hollow victory for the Spice Syndicate, at a great cost of life and with poor breathing equipment, many fell sick to the planet's poisonous fumes.

Whilst falling back from Zoness had allowed the defences of Aquas to strengthened to the point of being impregnable, it meant Macbeth was isolated and trapped between Titania, Zoness and Venom. Raids from Smoker's Fourth Fleet on Zoness and from the Sixth Fleet on the refineries and ships of Titania kept the enemy pinned and relieved some pressure on Macbeth, and had allowed Task Force X to slip through the enemy lines and escort a large supply convoy to the under siege outpost. The presence of Task Force X in orbit and the supplies delivered gave Macbeth the life blood it needed to keep fighting on.

Bad news, a ray of hope Admiral Pellew thought to himself. Katina had been preserved, but Fortuna was still being hotly contested and Fichina had been thought to have been under complete occupation of the Spice Syndicate. Thought to have been. Recon missions had revealed that there was still pockets of resistance present on the ice planet, fighting out a guerrilla war against the occupants. Supply missions were immediately ordered, with supply transports and fighter escorts braving enemy fire to deliver food, medicine, weapons and other vital supplies. Preparations had been made for a full attack on Fichina, but right now, Pellew was waiting on a fresh supply of pilots to help them break the Syndicate's hold on the surrounding space of the planet.

Back in the present, Pellew poured himself another strong one, trying to wash away his guilt. Of all of the difficult orders and situations, Protocol 13 had been the worst. He had received protests from both officers and parents. His Chief of Staff, Major Andrews had received a right grilling off the Commandant of the Cornerian Flight Academy. Letters of protest, both civil and uncivil, had found their way to his office. Parents attempting to enter the academies had denied and forced off the grounds. An extreme case had been where members of the former Star Fox and Star Wolf teams had attempted to join the war effort. When they had been refused, they had brought Great Fox out of storage with the intention of 'going it alone'.

They had not gotten far. As the Great Fox had left orbit, it had been approached by units of the Home Fleet and ordered to power down their engines and stand down. When they had refused to comply and moved into position to jump into hyperspace, the battleships of the fleet, Deliverance and Retribution, had fired upon the Great Fox, crippling her engines and hyperdrive. Boarding parties of marines had then found and apprehended Fox and Krystal McCloud, Leon and Claudia Powalski and Falco and Katt Lombardi. The ship itself had been stocked with their ships and enough supplies to arm and feed a small fleet. The supplies had been confiscated by the Navy and the ship seized and repaired, to be attached to the Home Fleet.

Edward looked down at the report before him, it's words reciting the whole event. We've restrained and humiliated our galactic heroes he thought sadly to himself. The report from Vice Admiral O'Donnell, the commander of the Home Fleet, had revealed that all three couples had been placed before him, and with great hesitance, he had ordered that they were all forbidden from leaving Corneria and would be pressed into the military as 'advisers'.

'Meaning that they would be mere training instructors', the Admiral thought aloud to himself. 'Despite the fact their kids are being in forced into active combat'.

He himself had wanted them to brought into active service, but the politicians have overridden him in that argument, stating that their capture or deaths would be a major psychological blow to their forces and the suggestion had been denied. And now between himself and O'Donnell, they had clipped the wings of some of their best veteran fighters and pilots, despite the irony of the politicians being more then willing to press their cadet children, amongst many others, in combat.

'Fucking idiots' he swore, condemning his superior's actions, picking up a framed picture on his desk.

The person in the picture was a young female falcon, not even eighteen, she was dressed in a Navy flight suit, saluting with a smile on her pretty face.

Oh Jessie love. He had not wanted to order Protocol 13, he had remembered the arguments back on Corneria that he had had with Angela, his wife screaming at him for passing the order that would conscript all cadets, including their little girl. He had not wanted to do it, but this was the last resort. They needed more trained pilots and soldiers to fill the gap and replace their losses whilst new recruits were being trained, and they were out of options and reserves. This had been the last thing he had wanted, remembering his daughter's tear streaked face when he had personally delivered the bad news.

Pellew turned his gaze from the picture of his daughter to a silver medal nestled in red silk in a small black book. It had been awarded to a First Lieutenant John Pellew of the Repulse, before he had been killed with all other hands on the battleship when Task Force Z had been destroyed. He had been Edward's eldest son. And Hart had sent him to his untimely death. Everyone in the military had known, and their hearts went out for their new Commander-in-Chief, understanding that this had not been an easy decision and that he was the last person to have wanted Protocol 13 to happen.

But they all had to be strong. There was no going back.

On Katina's surface

Marcus stood in line with the rest of the Blue Sky platoon. It had been over a week since Gloria and he had left their parents, and they had not heard from them since. Since they had arrived on Katina, he, Gloria and the others had all undergone a rigorous training, fitness training, assault courses, flight simulations and medicals. They had had no time to contact their families, and after discussions between the other members of the Blue Sky's, none of them had received any letters, emails, parcels, or anything in general, it was like they were being kept isolated and a secret.

He recalled an earlier conversation that the Blue Sky's had had between themselves when they had all had dinner together on the first night of their forced confinement.

'Anyone been able to get through to their families then?' he had asked the entire platoon as they ate.

His question was met by a sad silence, clearly answering his question. Then Karl Philips spoke up.

'No, Marcus', he grunted, looking up to smile at the blue vulpine. 'I take it nothing from yours either?'

'No unfortunately', Marcus smiled back.

Despite the previous bad blood between the two foxes, Karl had been the first to greet Marcus and Gloria when they had arrived, offering a hand and an apology for past deeds between the two. Marcus had gladly accepted both, apologising himself, sensing no deceit from his tanned furred counterpart. Both had been the better man, putting aside their differences, knowing that both would need to rely upon each other fully for the conflict to come. Both knew the Blue Sky's had to be unified to ensure their survival.

'It seems that's the case for all of us', growled Dwayne Hicks, a short, bulky male Sharpclaw.

'Well I don't know Hicksy', chuckled Mark Drake, a tall, lean grey wolf with macho attitude. 'I mean I'll kick Command's arse if. . . . . .'

'Officer's coming', hissed Jenette Vauquez, a petite vixen with a tomboy personality and wearing a red bandana around her neck.

All members of the platoon quietened as an officer walked pass their table and lingered for a moment, hovering over them with scrutinizing eyes, before silently moving onto the next table.

'It seems something's up', whispered Scott Gorman, a medium built, white furred fox. 'Something the officers don't want us to know', he added as fiddled with his cap.

As the others contemplated his opinion, Vauquez looked over to Gorman. He makes a good point she thought, taking his form in. Whilst he was the first to confess he was not the best of them at weapons combat, his ability with computers and piloting were just as good as the rest of them, and whilst he was modest, his ability of shooting with a laser pistol rivalled that of McCloud's and her own. He's cute she thought, finding his modesty attractive, glad that not all of the men in the Blue Sky's platoon were pig headed, boastful, macho idiots.

'Well if that's true Scott', shouted William Hudson, a tall, scrawny toad with a serious attitude problem. 'Why are we here in the first place for?'

'Will, shush, the officers', Juliet Andrews hissed, gesturing at their previous visitor. 'Last thing we want is the whole platoon being accused of spreading discontent and encouraging mutiny'.

'HA! I seriously doubt that Julie', Scott Gorman showed a rare sign of boastfulness as he smiled kindly at the lynx. 'There's no way they would gather an entire platoon from their leave, only to have us court martialled. It would just void out the reason for recalling them away from leave in the first place. No, I think they have better uses for us I'm afraid'.

As Julie smiled back, Jenette flinched, for some reason not liking the other girl's attention on Gorman. Another girl's word interrupted her thoughts.

'I'm sure Command's going to tell us what they have in store for us soon', Gloria Powalski spoke up. 'And the same with the situation concerning our families whether we want to know or not'.

The table sank into silent agreement, eating their dinners, waiting for the inevitable.

Back in the present tense, Marcus realized that the Blue Sky's platoon was not the only familiar group present. He recognised the Red Flames, the Green Claws and the Purple Rains from his Academy, the six marine cadet corps from the Academy were also present. But, there also seemed to be others. Many, many faces, he did not recognise. Whilst he had stand to eyes straight like everyone else, through his telepathy, he sensed that there were over two thousand cadets standing at attention in the room.

His eyes wandered over to the platform in front of him, where the officers were standing. He noticed Commandant Anna Roberts and their CO, Vanessa Whiptail, now promoted to a Captain. There were other officers he did not recognise, probably the Platoon Commanders of the other cadet groups. One was a middle aged veteran lynx, his ranking badges indicated he was a Chief of Staff. The entire time, Marcus sensed something amiss, all of the officers were wearing stoic looks on their faces, yet their minds seemed to be filled with guilt and shame. He followed the Chief of Staff's gaze and saw that it fell upon Julie, who was standing a couple of cadets to his left. Immediately, he saw the resemblance between the two. Fuck, that must be her Dad. An officer barked them all to attention and he thought no more of it, bracing himself for the bad news to come.

Newly promoted Colonel Jonathan Andrews of the Marines slowly walked towards the front of the platform, not uttering a word as he gazed across the room. Through Protocol 13, the Cornerian Army and Navy had been able to gather up two thousand cadets from the academies and barracks from the planets they still held in their influence, plus a thousand support staff. Corneria, Fortuna, Katina and Sauria had given all they could, the main Corneria Flight Academy had given them two hundred pilots and soldiers, as well three hundred medics, engineers and other support staff, whereas some of the smaller outposts had given no more then ten. Macbeth being isolated meant that their cadets would be following the same procedures that were happening here, shoring the planet's defences from there. Fichina was occupied, so their cadets were either already captured or had been pressed into the military fighting against the occupation.

Could always press the support staff into action too I suppose the Chief of Staff thought grimly to himself. This group of young people should not have been used now. They would be needed for future conflicts to come. Instead, the Cornerian Government and the High Command were going sacrifice this new generation of young pilots and soldiers. Without these cadets, the future military strength of the Alliance would be weakened severely. However, without this generation being used now, they may not survive the present war. The new, older recruits could take well over half a year to be fully trained to Pellew's satisfaction. All of the officers in the room, including himself, were aware of the dire situation, and that's what made it more difficult for what he was about to say to the three thousand kids standing before him now.

'At ease', he said loudly, amazed his voice did not break.

The entire room relaxed, waiting for the Chief of Staff had next to say.

'You all know why you're here', he barked stoically. 'We. . . .are at war. Given the extreme circumtances we are in, no thanks to our previous Commander-in-Chief William "Faint" Hart, we in the military have been forced to make more then a few difficult decisions in order to preserve our freedom and our way of life from the likes of the Spice Syndicate'.

Andrews took a breath, drinking iced water from a glass, allowing his words and their meaning to sink in.

'One of the most difficult decisions was bringing you all into active military service whilst the new recruits are being trained. Some of you will be thinking that you'll be able to return home to your families once their training has been completed'.

He sensed the hopes of the entire room raising as he spoke these words. Taking another deep breath and a gulp of water, he delivered the crushing blow.

'I deeply regret to say I have two pieces of bad news for you all'.

The room's mood switched from joy to dread.

'Even when these new recruits have been trained, due to your advanced training and upcoming experience, you'll all kept on the battlefield'.

Another breath, another drink.

'It is the right of pilots and soldiers to contact their parents and families whenever they can. However, since you're still kids and not mature adults, you may exaggerate facts and this will cause chaos and panic to spread on the home front. Something we can't allow to happen. Therefore it has been decided with great regret, by the Government and High Command'.

Another breath, another drink.

'That until this conflict is over, all cadets will be forbidden from communicating or seeing their parents and families'.

These last words echoed through a deathly silent room. The stunned silence lingered for a moment longer. And then, emotions exploded. Men and women shouting and screaming in protest. Swearing and throwing abuse at the residents of the platform. Others remained frozen to the spot stunned disbelief and silence. Others broke formation and walked towards the platform.

'THE PARADE WILL HOLD THEIR FORMATION!' shouted an officer, stamping forward towards the cadets, gesturing to his guards. 'MEN!'

Guards held up their weapons as others using the butts of their guns to hit cadets back into line. After a few minutes of exchanging abuse and blows, the cadets calmed down and were subdued.

'SAVE THAT ANGER FOR THE REAL ENEMY, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!' shouted John Andrews, his eyes scanning them all, looking for his daughter in the crowd. 'THEY'RE THE ONES TO BLAME FOR THIS!'

He finally found his daughter, his little girl. She had remained where she had been standing for the last hour. The site of her almost made his own emotions break free. Her whole body was trembling as tears flooded down her eyes, soaking her quivering cheeks and chin. Their eyes met and John wanted nothing more then to jump down from the platform, knock everyone out his way and comfort his baby girl. But he couldn't, he had to be an officer first, and a Dad second on duty. He would have to comfort her later, away from all of these hostile eyes.

'Those are my orders', he said calmly, his voice returning to it's normal volume. 'You will all spend the rest of this week receiving training and being received the appropriate equipment. You will then be assigned to your designated fleets, divisions and posts', he stopped, taking one last breath. 'That will be all. PARADE DISMISSED!'

As the cadets moved from the Parade Ground to their quarters, the Blue Sky's remained where they were. People pushed pass them, they all stood their ground. Marcus remained stoic as he looked at the rest of his platoon. Hicks was trembling in rage. Julie and Hudson were clearly crying.

'I don't want to die Will', the lynx wept.

'Oh man, oh man, oh man', the toad repeated, wiping is eyes.

'Whiney pussies', sneered Drake. 'This is it.'

'That's enough Mark', growled Gorman. 'This ain't no game or training simulation, this is the real thing, this is. They've a right to be scared'.

Gloria and Vauquez looked on in silence, the vixen's eyes watching Scott defend their comrades. The Powalski then turned and looked at Marcus. Despite the hard face, Marcus could sense the emotions screaming in her mind. He could sense them all, they were all scared, even Drake was.

But they all had to be strong. There was no going back.

Thought I could not leave you in suspense for too long, so I got to work as soon as I finished the last chapter. Hope you like it ladies and gents.

I know this is another angst chapter, but this chapter is to basically to show and set what is going to be happening in the chapters to come. Plus it gives me a chance to introduce the people who will be fighting alongside Marcus in this story and the next one.

Like mentioned in my last chapter, the Marines in these stories will be in similar armour and equipment as the Colonial Marines from the Aliens franchise, so it felt only natural that I'd use some familiar names. I'll update some as possible :) .