Chapter 21

Turning the Tide

2 of 2

"Fox, two on your tail."

"I see them." Fox's muzzle was set in a grimace of concentration. He'd never seen this many enemies before. Even Andross's invasion eight years ago paled in comparison. It had taken an hour to punch a whole wide enough for Krystal and Fiora to land, and they'd lost two squadrons doing it. Now they were fighting a desperate battle to keep that hole open, so that the ground teams didn't get swarmed by aerial bugbots.

A pair of purple laser beams streaked by his cockpit, missing by a mere handful of inches. Fox put his nose down and dove towards the skyscrapers of Corneria City. He dodged and weaved as more fire poured up at him, and then swooped below one of the city's raised skystreets. Behind him the two bugbots continued pursuit, but Fox was ready for them. Rather than continuing up and back into open sky, he looped around the skystreet, doing a complete circle and ending up behind them. He locked on with his lasers and let loose with a flurry of blue, hyper charged, bolts, melting the bugbots beyond any hope of reconstitution.

"Pretty smooth flying, Fox," Falco said on the comm, his compliment dripping with the usual sarcasm.

"Thanks Falco," Fox replied. He kicked his engines into overdrive and headed back up into the main battle. In the streets below, battalions of Marines and Army troopers, supported by hot dropping platoons of ODTs, were pushing deeper into the city while they had a bit of momentum. The arrival of the main Cornerian fleet, along with the close gunnery support of the hovering assault frigates, had finally given units on the ground an advantage, or at least a level playing field. Despite that, Fox cringed to think how heavy the casualties were going to end up being.

Rejoining the main battle, Fox opened fire on the first formation of bugbots he saw. He scored two direct hits, but the other members of the formation quickly broke off, all heading in separate directions. The more Fox fought them, the more obvious it was to him how right Krystal was. These things flew and dodged and fired and fought with such perfect coordination, it really did seem as if one mind was controlling them all. Fox could see the advantages. With one single, coordinating intelligence, there would be no hesitation to carry out dangerous or even suicidal orders. Since there was no chain of command up which orders or new tactical ideas had to be sent, response to new situations and advantages were instantaneous. And, since command of the battle was not reliant on anyone but the coordinator, with no possibility of miscommunication, fewer mistakes were likely to be made overall.

"Fox?" Slippy's voice came through the cockpit speakers. Fox recognized the slightly higher than normal pitch, and knew what words were going to follow. "Can you get this guy off me Fox?"

"I'm on it." Fox tracked Slippy's position on radar, and scythed his way through a group of bugbots that tried to cut across his path. Slippy was flying in an erratic pattern of evasive maneuvers that made Fox grit his teeth. If he used his laser cannons he was as likely to clean Slippy's tail as he was to singe it, with the way the toad was bouncing around completely at random. That left only one option.

Fox toggled his weapons control to the nose cannon, and held down the trigger. A red, coruscating ball of spun plasma began to build up around the cannon, held together by a magnetic field that would also allow it to track its targets for pinpoint accuracy. The charge shot also had the advantage of being able to wipe out small groups of tightly clustered enemies all at once, such as the trio of bugbots that were chasing after Slippy.

The words "Target Locked" flashed across Fox's targeting screen, and he let go of the trigger. The charge shot pulsed out, carving a path of superheated air right to the center of the hostile formation. It hit, and the center bugbot melted completely, while the other two lost their left and right sides, respectively, and tumbled towards the unforgiving ground. Slippy streaked off, doing a jaunty barrel roll that was about the only maneuver the toad could consistently pull off. "Thanks Fox."

"No problem, Slip," Fox said. "Keep to the edge of the battle, like we planned," he reminded the amphibian.

"Right." The toad made a beeline for the outer part of the fight, where the weapons fire and enemies were less thick.

Falco's comm beacon flashed, and Fox tapped the control for the private frequency the avian was requesting. "You shouldn't let him fly."

"He's fine Falco, as long as he doesn't get carried away," Fox replied. He and Falco had been having this fight since before the Lylat Wars. And Fox's mind hadn't changed. Nor had Falco's.

"He always gets carried away," Falco said. "He's not cut out for it."

Fox held back a noise of frustration, then mowed down a pair of bots in his path. "He's completely competent."

"Competent?" Falco scoffed, and Fox saw the avian's Arwing plow through a full squadron, melting each and every one, and saving half a dozen Cornerian fighters in the process. "Even if I thought that, which I don't, competent is so far below average for this team, it's..." He paused, thinking of the right word. "Laughable. He's a liability up here."

"He's an asset. He's helpful." Fox growled. "And I'm not having this conversation right now." Fox closed the channel and put Falco's argument out of his mind. Much as it pained him to admit it, the avian wasn't wrong. Slippy's skills were decidedly subpar in comparison to his teammates, and the amount of times he needed saving could, in theory, put the rest of them at risk. And there was also the fact that Fox's most practical argument, that they didn't have enough pilots on the roster to begin with, was holding significantly less water since Krystal, then her sister, and then Katt had signed on.

Fox grunted, letting any pent up distraction he was feeling flow out of him with the noise. "Fox, we've got a problem." It was Slippy's voice again.

"Where are you and how many?" Fox asked. He could practically here Falco smirking across the teamcomm.

"It's not me, I'm fine," Slippy said.

"Then what..." Fox trailed off as he saw what Slippy must have been referring to. Just nosing its way through the cloud cover, its retro rockets firing in a desperate attempt to slow it down, was a Cornerian assault frigate, wreathed in flames, and swarming with bugbots.

A desperate mayday filled the comm frequencies. "This Commander Carlson aboard the C.S.S. Cormorant. Main power is offline, and we have been boarded. We're on a collision course with Corneria City, estimated time to impact is seventeen minutes. Our chief engineer and his crew have been killed, if there's anyone out there who can help us! Please!"

Fox bit the inside of his muzzle. If that ship hit the city, it would wipe out thousands of square meters. And it the reactor then blew... "Slippy..."

"I'm already on my way. I'll need cover to get inside though. There's an open hangar to starboard," Slippy told him.

Fox changed course to follow Slippy. "How big?"

"Big. It's the main hangar," Slippy replied.

"Alright, you and I are going in. Falco, Katt, cover us," Fox ordered.

Bill's voice interjected. "Need an extra hand? I can make it in there with you."

"Thanks Bill," Fox said. Perfect. A plan was already forming in his mind. "Let's go people, we've got sixteen minutes and counting."

Fox gunned it for the frigate, Bill forming up behind him. As they neared it bugbots started peeling themselves off the hull, intent on stopping them from reaching the hangar. Slippy did another barrel roll, and Fox and Bill opened up, doing their best to clear them out as they approached the opening. Their maneuverability was limited however as they had to match speed in order to dock.

Falco and Katt swooped in to pick up the slack, strafing the bots and drawing them away long enough for the three other pilots to complete their approach, all wings intact.

For a main hangar it was a small space, and Slippy had already taken up a not insignificant portion of it. He and Bill matched speeds and brought themselves in as fast and as delicately as they could. When the Arwing settled on the ground Fox killed the engines and popped the canopy. Smoke filled his nostrils as he jumped onto the metal deck, blaster in hand. Bill waved to him, and Slippy jogged up to him, toolkit in hand. Fox looked at the two of them and said, "Bill, make sure he gets to the engine room. We have fourteen minutes before this thing crashes."

"What about you?" Slippy asked, glancing around a little nervously. Fox put a hand on the amphibian's shoulder briefly before pulling back. Despite what Falco might think, Slippy had a quality that Fox found indispensable. He was brave. Braver than any of them, quite honestly. He knew the toad shook in his boots before every battle, but he still went out there and did whatever it took to help the team and win the battle.

Despite the flames and wreckage surrounding them Fox managed a smile, doing his best to look cocky despite the fact he had just voluntarily boarded a sinking ship. "Well, someone has to land this thing."

()()()()

Krystal flung herself to the ground as the wall next to her erupted and tried to take her head off. "Bloody hell!"

The ODT next to her wasn't so lucky, and his corpse fell to the ground next to her, a hole burned through his chest. Another column of smartmatter, or whatever they called the stuff this monstrosity was made of, lashed out and tried to slice the remains of Charlie squad in half. Fiora reached out with her hands and stopped it cold with her telekinesis. The troopers dove to the ground and rolled out of the way right before Fiora lost control, and the razor sharp whip flung itself forward.

All around them the screeching battlecry of bugbots grew louder, and Krystal gathered herself up only to see an onslaught of the things approaching. The ODTs opened up with all the firepower at their disposal, and the bugbots returned fire with equal abandon. Troopers and bots alike began to fall to either side of the blue vixen.

Davies ran up to her and pulled her behind the meager cover of a drop pod. "Ma'am, you get in there and complete the objective. We'll hold them here as long as we can."

"That's suicide," Krystal argued, shaking her head.

Davies' aura changed to one of grim acceptance, and a surprising upswelling of sympathy. "We're soldiers ma'am. ODTs. When we get into our pods we know there's a good chance we won't make it to the ground, and even if we do, that we'll be killed on impact, or the second we pop the hatch. We're volunteers, and we know our job. Get in there and kick that probe's metal ass, let us worry about the rest."

Krystal was stunned for an instant, and then she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Good luck, Captain."

"You too, ma'am."

Krystal nodded, gripped her staff, and ran towards Fiora. Her sister looked at her, and said, "Ready?"

"Let's do this." Krystal slapped her sister on the back, and the two of them charged into the predator's den.

()()()()

Fox sprinted through the corridors of the Cormorant. The air was filled with smoke, and his nose, sensitive as it was, could also pick up the scent of blood and fear through the thick haze. He'd stopped paying attention to the number of bodies he'd passed.

The lifts weren't working, and even if they had been, Fox wouldn't have trusted them. The emergency ladders might have been a bit slower, but at least he could drop quickly, and there was less chance the door would open only for him to be immediately gunned down by a waiting bugbot.

With a grunt Fox pulled himself up onto the last deck, with a corridor leading directly to the bridge. He glanced at his mission clock. They had four and a half minutes left. Fox swore under his breath, and then a shadow passed over his face. His eyes widened and he dove against the wall, just as a metal bladed arm cut through the space had he been occupying.

Without losing another instant Fox brought his blaster up and fired, sending a pair of energy bolts directly into the bugbots narrow waist. The bot screeched and lashed out at him again, catching his right shoulder with the blunt side of its arm. Fox cried out as he tumbled to the floor. Despite the searing pain in his shoulder he brought his blaster up again and started firing, feather tapping the trigger to send bolt after bolt into the metal monstrosity. It screamed and brought its arm up again, but Fox rolled out of the way in time, avoiding an attack that would have sliced him right down the middle.

Before he could fire again a loud, persistent report came from further down the corridor. Blue laser beams lit up the hallway, and caught the bugbot in three separate places. It didn't manage to do more than make a defiant sound before it melted into a puddle of blue goo on the floor. Boots pounded across the deck, and three Naval security officers crossed Fox's field of vision, scouring the puddle to prevent reconstitution. One of them held a hand out and helped Fox to his feet. "Commander McCloud?"

"That's me." Fox checked his clock. That engagement had taken a full minute. His comm flashed and he brought to his muzzle. "Slippy?"

"I have the main thrusters online. She won't make escape velocity, but she can maneuver."

Fox breathed a sigh of relief. He sprinted for the bridge. "That's all I need."

The door swished open, and Fox saw a room in chaos. The bridge had been boarded, and the only person alive besides the security troopers who had just helped him was Commander Carlson. The canine had a broken arm and was bleeding from a head wound. He had his sidearm in hand, and he was staring down at a rapidly evaporating pool of blue goo. "Commander?"

"Pilot is dead," he said, not looking up. "And I can't fly like this." He finally made eye contact, and recognition passed over his muzzle. "Star Fox?"

Fox nodded, not in the mood to correct him about the name. He took the pilot's seat and glanced briefly at the controls. Carlson stood behind him and asked, "Can you fly a ship like this?"

Fox shrugged. "Under the circumstances it doesn't make much difference." He took the controls and glanced back at Carlson and the security officers who'd joined him. With a grim expression he said, "Strap yourselves in. And I hope you guys can swim."

One of the officers gulped and said, "Sir?"

Fox didn't explain. Instead he turned back to the instruments and thought to himself, I hope this works.

()()()()

Fiora had never seen anything like this in her life. Nor had she ever imagined the like. As she and Krystal fought their way through the numerous rooms and empty corridors of the former headquarters of Phoenix Corp, the walls and floors and ceilings themselves did everything they could to impeded their progress.

Surrounding both of them was a bright aura of psionic energy, Krystal's a deep blue, and Fiora's a blood red, the colors mimicking their pelts. It was exhausting maintaining the energy required, and Fiora suspected the two of them would have to enter a rejuvenation trance at the end, but it was the only way to keep the smartmatter they were surrounded by from simply swallowing them whole and smothering them.

Their projected auras had not, however, prevented the smartmatter around them from trying to kill them in other ways. Fiora had little to no understanding of the science behind catoms and programmable matter, but she felt certain she was receiving a premium course in its practical and military applications.

Fiora ducked her head as an energy beam tried to burn a hole right between her eyes, barely missing by more than an inch. She raised her blaster to fire, but the energy weapon that had fired the beam melted back into the structure, and her retaliatory fire succeeded only in blackening a portion of the wall. She cursed and continued on her mad dash alongside her sister.

Next to her, Krystal's expression was pained and weary. Her sister could usually filter out or, in cases of extreme mental stress, completely wall off her consciousness from the emotions and thoughts surrounding her. It was an invaluable skill in battle, when the whispered feelings of those around you were all high strung, adrenaline controlled panic. Too much exposure to that kind of thought energy could leave a Cerinian feeling jittery, ill, or even comatose from hyper-stimulation. The price of maintaining the aura shields around them, however, was Krystal's ability to filter and block.

As Fiora hopped over a sweeping blade of energized catoms, she allowed herself a moment of gratitude to the goddesses that she had inherited her family's recessive, but powerful, telekinesis gene. Dormant among the Zonocs for three generations, it had finally found its home in her, though at the expense of blunting her telepathy. What Krystal could feel and sense in a person from across a distance of meters, Fiora needed to be in physical contact with. It often put her at a disadvantage when dealing with others, but in this instance, it meant that having her mental shields down was far less traumatic for her than it was for Krystal.

Even so, she could sense the ODTs dying outside, and she knew they had an increasingly small amount of time before Davies and his company were overwhelmed, and the bugbots started pouring in after the two of them. "How much further?" Fiora asked, her breathing more rapid than normal. The air inside the building was thick and full of energetic charge, making breathing difficult, although not impossible.

"Twenty meters. Maybe twenty-one," Krystal replied, her own breath ragged. "Fox is in danger."

The admission caught Fiora by surprise. "Sister?"

Krystal shook her head and brought her staff down on the floor, causing a powerful, localised seismic event that scattered the barrier in front of them long enough for the two to get past it. "He's doing something either very noble, or very stupid."

"Uh huh." Fiora pulled her sword from her back and sliced through a whip like cord that had just tried to slice through her chest. "I haven't know him that long, but that seems perfectly in character." Fiora paused. "But I understand why you're worried."

Krystal frowned and smashed her staff against a recently materialized laser turret. The barrels crumpled, and the whole thing melted. "I'd like to get to know him a bit better before he goes and offs himself in a blaze of glory."

Fiora chuckled. "I'm sure it'll be worth it. Getting to know him better."

Krystal caught the double meaning, if the light in her eyes that appeared was any indication. The thought and anticipation lent her a new reserve of energy, and the two of them bounded through the last set of obstacles before they reached the lab.

Inside Fiora saw the probe, its blue body shimmering with energy. Large, pulsating, tentacles extended from the center of it, bracing it to the walls, and sending out jolts of psionic energy to the building. As Fiora looked at it, the transformation going on around them began to make sense. The smartmatter coating was serving as an additional amplifier, or perhaps relay would have been more accurate, for the telepathic energy being transferred through the probe. Without the probe, the signal would be neutralized, and the bugbots would no longer be able to function.

"Okay, how do we do this?" Fiora asked.

Krystal walked up to the probe and said, "I have to tell it to shut down. Once I do that, it should disintegrate, along with any bugbots under its control."

"And how are you going to do that?" Fiora asked, although she had a sinking feeling she knew already.

Krystal smiled and said, "I think Katt would call it hacking. In this case, I have to use the skill a telepath is best at. Communication. Keep me covered."

Fiora nodded and put what was left of her mental energy into strengthening their auras and feeding strength into her muscles. Behind her, Krystal set her hands on the machine and muttered, "Here goes nothing."

Fiora amended the statement in her mind to 'everything' and then braced herself for the very worst that probe and its trillions of catoms had in store for them. Here went everything indeed.

()()()()

As the battle raged throughout out Corneria City, the situation growing more and more desperate and bloody by the minute, the troops and civilians on the ground might have been forgiven if they missed the sudden drama going on in the skies right above them. However, Cornerians, and soldiers in particular, are an observant bunch, and when a massive shadow passed over them, and the dull, rumbling roar of engines meant to propel a ship through space nearly deafened them, all of them looked up into the sky, and most of them cried out in abject horror at what they saw.

From his position on the bridge of the Cornerian assault frigate Cormorant, Fox McCloud noticed none of this. He ignored the terrified expressions of the crew behind him, maintaining complete focus on the controls and instruments before him. Fox had been a bit flippant about whether he could pilot a vessel of this scale, but the short answer was that he could. He'd piloted the Great Fox on a few occasions, a precautionary skill in case ROB were ever disabled. That being said, he had never flown a ship like this in combat, nor had he ever executed an emergency landing in one.

Beneath his feet the hull shook with vibrations, and ahead of him the skyline of Corneria City drew ever closer. He didn't think about the panic he was likely causing on the ground, and he ignored the legion of bugbots that were flying around the ship, zapping pieces of hull away, and trying to sabotage the engines. His forward momentum would carry them to their destination, nothing the bugbots could do would stop them.

Even so, the sensors that were still functioning indicated that at least two squadrons of Navy fighters were now flanking them, swatting the bugs away, and forming a kind of honor guard around the doomed ship. Fox checked the controls once again, and nodded to himself. They were right on course. He calculated their ETA in his head, the computer having lost most functionality. He glanced back at Carlson and the crew and said, "Brace for impact."

Carlson and the three officers all nodded, hanging onto anything they could get their hands around, and praying that their seat restraints would hold. Fox turned back to the forward viewport and watched as Corneria City disappeared behind them, and the wide, blue waters of the bay stretched out ahead of them. He grit his teeth and held on. A lot of people thought that landing in water was like jumping into a pool. They couldn't have been more wrong. When the Cormorant hit the ocean it was like hitting a wall of concrete. Hull plating sheared off or crumpled under the force of the impact. Glass shattered, and Fox shielded his eyes as panels exploded and sparked all around him. From all around him the hull screamed in protest, and Fox plastered his ears against his skull at the sound. A massive wave sprayed out behind them, and Fox knew they'd probably ended up flooding several blocks of beachfront property. Better than the alternative. At the last instant one of Fox's restraints snapped, and he jerked forward, smashing his right arm against the control panel in front of him. He yelled a curse and let himself roll with the momentum, managing to avert any serious injury. He was lucky he hadn't broken the arm.

Then, a minute and a half later it was over. The Cormorant stopped all forward motion, and for a moment everything was perfectly still. Fox unstrapped himself and stood up. He looked at the commander and said, "Better signal the evacuation."

Carlson nodded mutely and stabbed a button on his command chair. The evacuation klaxon blared throughout the ship. Fox started climbing his way towards the nearest emergency hatch, the deck having tilted downwards. He could feel the ship sinking underneath him. Slowly but surely taking on water. Behind him the commander and his three security officers followed, and Fox hit the release for the emergency hatch in the corridor. Cool, ocean air flooded the corridor, driving away the smoke and haze they'd been choking on. Fox climbed out and then lent the rest an arm. His left. His right arm and shoulder were smarting, and he knew his nerves were filing every complaint in the anatomy book over the beating they'd been subjected to in the last few minutes. Fortunately, despite the pain none of it seemed permanent.

"What do we do now?" one of the officers asked.

Fox shrugged and parked his rear on the hull underneath him. He looked out at Corneria City and said, "Now we wait."

()()()()

Krystal had never encountered an intelligence like the one she could feel inside the probe. She'd been expecting the familiar touch of her mother, a warm embrace and willingness to help. Maybe, she had held out the hope, she would even be able to shut down everything from this one spot. It was clear her mother wanted to help her, after all.

As she dug deeper into the probe's telepathic programming however, Krystal sensed none of her mother's warmth or love. In fact, she sensed no particular emotions at all. No, that wasn't right. She did sense some emotions. A boiling, heated, rage seemed to bubble up against her consciousness. Whether it was natural or induced Krystal wasn't sure, and she found herself doing what she could to block it. The more she dug though, and the more the rage brushed against the edges of her awareness, the more Krystal began to realize that she wasn't dealing with any individual mind.

"How many?" she muttered to herself. She went deeper, battering her way through primitive defenses and shields, none of which could withstand a telepath of her strength. So much of the energy had to be focused outward that very little of it could be used to stop her probing mind. "Thousands." The answer rose unbidden through her mind and out her muzzle. A flash of pure joy overtook her as she realized how many of her people were alive. Then, anger and hurt crushed in on her as she remembered how many millions there had been on Cerinia, and what state those who had survived now existed in.

She put it out of her mind. Status. Collective. Compound. No individuals. Individuality subsumed into a dream like state, making the individual and group extremely susceptible to suggestion. Suggestion. Krystal homed in on that. She found layers of defense, more than in any other thought line. They were nothing. Whoever had designed this system clearly had not anticipated telepathic interference. It made sense. Yarus probably thought he had every last remaining telepath in the galaxy under his control, so why bother to create defenses against them? His mistake.

Krystal tore away the last paper thin sheet of blockage around the suggestive thought line. Her mind and eyes glowed as she began absorbing the information. Two directives rose to the immediate surface. "Commands" and "Cohesion." Commands were sent out telepathically, using amplification from a distant source. Krystal tried to locate it, but she didn't get far. Distant was an understatement. As powerful as she was, she couldn't communicate with something light years away. Not without amplification of her own. She filed that away however, along with her knowledge of amplification techniques and locations that had once existed on Cerinia.

Next she looked at Cohesion. This was the probe's primary purpose. The bugbots could receive commands from a great distance. Basic ones, without much more complexity than "Move to point. Kill everything." But, they could not maintain control over their catoms without the cohesive energy being pumped through the probe and the smartmatter coating the building. Krystal tried to seek out a reason. Ah, there it was. The catoms were unstable. Apparently, under natural conditions, the artificial atoms, which were converted energy, would return to their former energetic state. Krystal smiled. The catoms didn't want to be solid. They wanted to be ethereal. They wanted to be pure, harmless, energy. And, without the cohesion command, they would revert to their natural state. Corneria City might have to deal with static shocks for a few weeks, but beyond that the effect would be harmless. It made sense, in a way. The universe wasn't inherently harmful, and in its own way, Krystal knew it did its level best not to be.

Krystal focused all of her energy on the cohesion command. It would take everything she had to block it for the few seconds that would be required. "Fiora?" she whispered, unable to summon the energy to speak any louder.

"I'm here."

"Catch me."

Krystal felt her sister's strong arms and hands wrap around her, ready to steady her and keep her aloft. Krystal then drove all of her telepathic energy into one, three second burst of psionic power. For those three seconds the probe stopped receiving and then sending the command to maintain cohesion. Krystal sensed the sudden panic of the robots storming their way through the city as they lost their solidity. She felt the sudden zap of energy that made millions of people cry out and push down fuzzed fur. And then she felt the relief, joy, shock, and celebration of those same people as they looked around and noticed that every single one of the deadly killing machines that had been slaughtering them were gone. Krystal smiled, letting all the emotions wash over her, and then she went limp and all was quiet.

A/N: Dun dun dun. Man, people need to stop losing consciousness, that's super bad for you. Also, Cormorant is a reference to something. I can't for the life of me remember what though. Huh.

As always thank you all for you reviews, follows, and favs. Corneria City is saved! Now there's some other people who need saving. I hope Star Fox makes bank off all this.

Next week will see another update to my other story, Star Fox: Kidnapped. If you're enjoying this story I can pretty much guarantee that you'll enjoy that one too. Go check it out!

See you all in two weeks. FurFur out!