Chapter -42-
War Zone

Venom Orbit
Great Fox

"What's the plan?" Fara Phoenix crossed her arms over her chest, just beneath the swell of her bustline, but flinched from the sensitivity of her chest.

Marcus also flinched, sensing her pain. He turned from the main viewscreen, placed his paws on the holo-table at the center of the bridge, and faced the entire crew.

All the pilots stood gathered together at the back of the bridge.

Marcus cleared his throat and said, "Andross, Wolf, Leon, and Garrick's group will be headed to Shrey-Lek. So that we're all on the same page, that's the old capital of Venom, which, as everyone here should know by now, was flattened last year in a bombardment that took place in the fight between Dash and Andrew. Shrey-Lek hasn't been used as the capital of Venom in quite some time, but Doctor A. tells me the capitol building still has the equipment necessary to put out a public broadcast. So, that's Andross' destination."

Panther, standing next to Miyu, Vivian, and Theodore, said, "That isn't a plan, that's filling us in on where we stand. We already knew Andross would go to Venom and appeal to the masses. So, again, to repeat Fara Phoenix's question, what is the plan?"

Marcus stole a glance at Panther. "Just making sure we're all on the same page. The plan is simple. We create a distraction for Andross and his team. That means a direct assault on Anezka's position. Farrah Fennecs did some recon for us. She let Andrew Oikonny go free, but I think that was part of her plan, because he went running right to Anezka, hoping to work for her. Farrah waited until Andrew reached out to Anezka, and when she sent a shuttle for him, Farrah loaded herself onto the shuttle's computer systems. When the shuttle landed on Venom, she managed to infiltrate the systems of the Venom base being used by Anezka and her generals. Farrah discovered that Anezka has promoted Kyong Adler to the rank of General, and she keeps him in her presence quite often as one of her highest advisors. Farrah also reported that Anezka plans on airing a public broadcast to the people of Venom, where Andrew will kneel in fealty to her. Andross wants to wait until his nephew kneels, then hijack the broadcast and denounce him as a weak coward. He plans to decry Anezka to the people of Venom for taking on cowardly people like Andrew. Andross believes he can spin her actions in a way that will show her as weak."

Miyu grinned. "So … the old man is going to troll the hybrid Krazoan nutjob, huh?"

"Yeah, that's his plan. That's why he's the only one not here – he's getting himself ready for insertion into Venom airspace, and he's with Garrick's team, going over the plan with them, so that everyone is in their place to make things work."

Panther asked, "So, we're performing an assault on Anezka's compound … very well, is this before or during her broadcast?"

Marcus said, "We'll begin the assault at the same time Andross is taking a dropship to the remains of the old capital city. Farrah will create sensor glitches in their system. She estimates that Anezka will go forward with her broadcast as a show of strength, and then it will be up to Andross to undermine her by hijacking her broadcast. That will make it look like she doesn't have any control over the situation. Having Andross broadcast from Shrey-Lek will further insult her by showing that he could slip by right under her nose. Once his broadcast begins, we will break off our attack and regroup for phase-two."

Panther side-nodded in the direction of Fara while keeping his gaze on Marcus. "Is it true she's pregnant?"

Marcus gestured to Fara. "Do you want to answer that?"

Fara smirked. She turned to Miyu. "I guess you told him, huh? No worries." She shifted her eyes to Panther. "Yes. I'm not very far along. I plan to be part of the strike team. It's been too long since my last sortie, and I plan to fly as much as I can until the second trimester. At that point, no more flying until the baby is old enough to toddle."

"Mm, and what happens if you wind up outside of the cockpit in the midst of the battle against Anezka's forces?"

Miyu furrowed her brows at Panther. "You're worried about her ejecting?"

"No, Miyu, he's worried about me getting sniped through my torso again. It nearly killed me once, and it would vaporize my…" Fara didn't want to finish the sentence. She turned to Panther. "If I have to land and draw my blaster, then that's what I have to do." Fara shrugged with a measure of indifference. "If we need to consider a ground offensive or insertion against Anezka's forces for any reason, or if I have to eject and fight my way out of a situation … or if I wind up as part of a ground team, then that is my decision to do so. I was formally trained on surviving suicide missions. I'm currently on hiatus as a trainer for William Grey's new black ops program. It's what I'm good at, Panther."

"If you took even a mere punch to your stomach…"

Fara rolled her eyes. "Then I'd miscarry and have another."

Panther appeared shocked by Fara's response. "I confess, I did not expect such a cavalier response regarding the gift of a child. There are very few things more beautiful than the gift of life."

Fara pursed her lips. "As I am well aware, Panther." She exhaled through semi-clenched teeth. "Miyu, keep your man in check."

Marcus sensed that Panther's question really bothered her, but he was impressed at how convincing she sounded with her response.

Panther said, "Don't get me wrong, I am impressed you are willing to risk everything for the success of this mission."

Fara glanced away in annoyance. She exhaled again, slow and calm. "Look, I can't have a baby in Lylat if the system is in danger of absolute destruction. So if I lose my child, the size of a grain of rice with a heartbeat, while I'm trying to make Lylat a safe place to have said baby, then I will try again once Marcus and I have married. Listen, I need to be part of this operation because I have something to add to the fight, all right? I appreciate your concern, but I'm asking that you let me worry about my womb."

Panther took a single step toward Fara. "If you won't make good decisions regarding your future child, how can I trust you to make good decisions when fighting on my wing in combat?"

Marcus snapped his head up. "Are you serious, Caruso?"

Fara stormed across the bridge and stopped right in front of Panther, her arms still folded across her chest. "Spit it out."

"Excuse me?"

Fara narrowed her gaze. "You're concerned about flying with a pregnant woman. I want to know why you're concerned?"

"Your natural instincts will be to protect your fetus. If there came a time to protect yourself or your entire team, you will choose yourself, because you are with child. That is only natural. Furthermore, if we are in a ground-based operation, together, you will avoid combat because CQC could result in the loss of your child. That makes you unreliable. Besides, you are so tiny in frame, you would be incapable of fighting an enemy the size of an average Venom lizard. You should stay on the Great Fox and coordinate. Furthermore, we need a dispatcher to operate the radio."

Fara scoffed. "You think I can't hold my own against an attacker because I'm too small?"

"Yes. You're a tiny fennec. You are both small and pregnant. You would stand no chance in paw-to-paw combat."

Miyu glanced sidelong at Panther. "Have you even seen her fight, hon?"

"I don't need to. It's simple math. If a thirty-pound toddler attacks a one hundred thirty-pound adult, that adult will simply pick the toddler up and ignore the child's attempt at attacking. You weigh, what, a hundred pounds?"

Fara scoffed at the way Panther spoke to her. "You use Papetoon imperial units, huh? Fine. In Papetoon Imperial, I'm one hundred seven pounds."

"I am twice your weight, fennec. I have a height advantage, and…" He rolled up his sleeve and flexed an arm, showing off a rather impressive bicep. "My solid muscle puts me several weight classes above you."

Fara turned to Miyu with a frown. "Don't be upset with me for teaching your man the art of defense, all right?"

Miyu chuckled. "He's my boy toy, not my husband. Go on, Fara. Show him what you can do."

"On the bridge, though?" asked Theodore.

"Yeah, seriously. Lot of breakables," said Vivian.

"I'll allow it," Marcus replied with a wry grin. "She could easily afford to replace a cracked screen, after all."

Fara turned back to Panther. "Now is the best time … your team isn't here to see you get creamed."

"You want to spar? Now? Here? Without safety gear? Would a parent strike a toddler closed-fisted? I think not."

Fara's ears lay flat behind her head. "A thirty-pound toddler has no chance against a one-hundred-pound mother, three times the child's weight, and I am not disagreeing with you on that…"

"Then we are in agreement," Panther replied.

"No. We're not, Panther. Why? Because a toddler doesn't know how to take down an adult, nor can do they do anything with thirty pounds and short limbs. But I am not thirty pounds. I'm one-oh-seven. For the record, I only need a hundred pounds to handle you, Mr. Caruso. We don't have enough time to head down to the gym and don sparring gear. I'll make this quick so we can move on. Once you see I can handle myself, you'll be more likely to fall into line with the rest of the team. And, since you're the aggressor. Feel free to make the first move."

"I will not be to blame for causing you to miscarry your…"

Fara snapped her paw upward, striking him in the jaw before he could finish his sentence.

Panther gawked at her, stunned into silence. After a moment, he said, "Did you just? And you call that a punch?"

"No. It was a closed-fisted bitch-slap."

Panther gawked at her language.

Fara added, "It was a light jab meant to insult you. I did it closed-handed because, for some reason, I respect your obsession with masculinity too much to slap you in the face … like a bitch. But if you're going to act like one, the next time I hit you, it will be the back of my paw, so stop acting like a bitch and treat me like an equal. Else, you'll be the one on dispatch."

Panther didn't give Fara any warning. He didn't telegraph his movement. He stared at her with no expression, and, without a word, attempted a firm punch across her muzzle.

Fara was quick to respond. In fact, she was far too quick for even Marcus to sense what she was going to do. She jerked her head to the side, stepped forward, struck his inner elbow with one paw, while grabbing his wrist with her other. She guided his forearm into position, pivoted on the balls of her feet, guided his arm over her shoulder, bent at the waist, burying her rump into his stomach, then took his arm, doubled over, and flipped him into his back, laid out on the deck in front of her. She shifted, laid back, tucked her feet beneath his triceps, and used her legs to trap his neck and shoulder, pinning him. She buried her heels firmly into his collarbone in a way that it would be easy to break, with a simple stomp, if necessary.

Panther struggled to get out of it, but Fara tightened her legs, grinding her heel against his collarbone.

"Yield?" she asked.

"No," Panther replied in a flat tone.

"Don't make me give a lesson on pressure points, Caruso."

"Feel free to try," he said, with only a slight strain in his voice. He half-rolled over, used his free paw to stabilize himself against the deck, and stood up with Fara still holding tight with her legs around his neck and beneath one arm. "I could body slam you into the wall, then lift you up and slam you down on the floor right now if I wanted to. As I said, I have height and weight on you."

Fara acrobatically reached her arms out for the deck, unlatched her legs from his neck, then brought a foot into his crotch.

Panther was ready for the strike, and it didn't faze him. "Built in guard in my suit," he replied. He grasped her leg firmly. "I could easily…"

"Oh, of course you have a bloody codpiece." She didn't pull her leg from his firm grip, mostly because she wanted to see more of his fighting style. "And Panther, dammit, stop trying to narrate what you could do. Just shut up and do it."

"Fine." Panther held her leg with one arm and grasped her belt with his other paw. He lifted Fara up, high, above his head.

Fara looked down at him and kicked her foot against the outside his elbow, striking his houmous with the tip of her shoe. She followed through, after the kick, by bringing her knees to her chest, then kicked her legs outward again while twisting her frame aggressively, so that she ejected herself from his grasp, feet first.

The soles of her shoes met the bulkhead. In one smooth maneuver, she pushed away from the metallic surface with her feet, twisted her hips to build power, and kicked him across the face.

Panther reached for his elbow, where he'd been kicked hard enough that his right paw was temporarily numb. He looked up just in time to receive Fara's foot across his face. His head snapped to the left, stunning him.

Fara landed on the deck in a crouch and used the momentum to reach forward at a low height. She hooked her arm beneath his left knee and pulled hard, still crouched. While pulling back with her arm, she also rose to her feet, jamming her shoulder into his gut.

Panther toppled back, completely off balance. He crashed to the deck on his back.

Not wasting time, Fara pounced on his upper chest, using her feet to pin his inner elbows and her shins to pin his shoulders. She pressed her knees firmly against either side of his collarbone, lifted both of her arms high above her head, and hammer-fisted him in the nose with all her upper body strength.

Panther let out a roar of pure rage, causing everyone else in the room to cringe or cover their ears. Simultaneous to his battle cry, Caruso kicked his foot up to try and catch Fara in the back of her head.

She saw his face, listened to his shout, felt his body telegraph his next move, and was ready for it. She leaned her head to the right and reached back with her right arm, catching his foot. She held on tightly to his ankle, reached across with her left paw, unfastened his boot, pulled it off, and then used it as a hammer to strike him in the face a second time.

Again, Panther roared in frustration, unable to cover his face to block it, due to the way she had his arms pinned beneath her feet and shins. His shout sounded strained from the pressure of her knees against the base of his throat.

Fara struck him in the face a second time with his own boot.

Panther opened and closed his eyes, blinking rapidly from being fazed again. His eyes seemed to look through her; he couldn't focus his gaze from being stunned.

Fara lifted the boot high in her left paw, ready for a third strike. She shouted, "Do you yield?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "Again, my point! I can endure this. You will wear yourself out, and…"

Fara struck him in the face with his boot a third time. She rolled her hips forward, grinding her knees against his mid-throat. She released his ankle from her right paw, cupped his cheeks in her palms, and pressed her thumbs into his eyes with a moderately firm amount of force. "In a real fight, my thumb claws pierce your eyes, and I jam my thumbs as deeply as I'm able. Now you're blind. A little harder, and with enough adrenaline, and my thumb claws begin to breach the cranial vault. Once my claws contravene into the softest accessible part of your skull, you're bleeding in the brain. Before long, you're dead. I won't demonstrate; this fight is over."

Panther thrashed about, trying to capture one of her forearms in his teeth, but could not manage purchase.

Fara drew her right paw back, then thrust it downward, firmly, striking him in the throat.

Panther gagged.

Fara reached down and grasped his tongue, pulling hard on it, so that he couldn't close his maw without biting his own tongue. She pressed her thumbnail against the bottom side of his tongue. "If I stabbed right here with my claw, and yanked my paw back, it would create a severe lingual laceration. See, if I just cut the tongue out, the stump will start to clot before you even go into shock; the artery spasms, closes off, and there's surprisingly little bleeding involved. However, stabbing my nail into the bottom of the tongue and jerking my paw back, outward, will create a long incision, which splits your tongue on the underside. A thirty-pound toddler may not have the strength to fork your tongue, but I do. Same for piercing your eyes. Same with pressing my knees against your jugular or carotid artery."

Panther stilled. He stared up at her.

As soon as he stopped thrashing, she also relaxed a bit.

Panther didn't move. He just glared up at her.

"Isn't it weird?" asked Fara. "When someone cuts off an arm or a leg, you can survive it, but if an artery is sliced and continues to gush, you can pass out or die from bleeding out. And it doesn't even take very long. And if I press just a little harder with my knees on your neck, you'll pass out in about fifteen-to-twenty seconds. But you'd already know how long a chokehold takes. If you thrash about too much, my knees will push in your laryngeal prominence, and crush the cartilage of your larynx against your spinal column, causing trauma to both the larynx and trachea. If I slam my knees as hard as I can, I would hyperextend your neck when I do it. If your larynx is crushed, air escapes into the neck and chest, leading to respiratory compromise, and, if significant enough, can cause death. Death happens faster when you're thrashing about in an attempt to get free. With four pounds of pressure, I can pinch the jugular. With eleven pounds of pressure, my knees can render you unconscious, simply by pinching your carotid artery. With thirty-three pounds, I can block air flow through your trachea. There's a lot I can do with my 'measly' one hundred pounds, Caruso. After all, you can't lift your arms, can you?"

Panther tried. His arms were trapped. He tried to roll over to throw her off, but she used body-english to keep him pinned.

Fara released his tongue, cleared her throat with a measure of purpose, and said, "Farrah, who won?"

The AI solid-light construct appeared standing over the two, bent at the waist, fists on her hips. She tilted her head a bit as if studying the situation, even though she witnessed the entire engagement between the two. "You blinded him, you forked his tongue, you injured his throat, making it difficult to breathe, yet purposefully held back from breaking his neck … you did this without a weapon while sore from pregnancy. You even started the discourse between the two of you by using measured responses, even though his words caused your heartrate to spike. That takes discipline. Yet, during the fight, you you're your heartrate calm and your breathing relaxed in comparison to Mr. Caruso. Now, because he made such a big deal about his superior body strength, I will put this in context that he can understand. So! He can bench press three hundred pounds. His best rep, with consistency, since arriving on this ship, is an impressive ten reps each of the three times he has worked out in the ship's gym, never more and never less. There is no denying that, other than Andross, Mr. Caruso is the strongest physical specimen of you bunch. By comparison, Fara, according to your file, the combined sum of your dead lift, bench press, and squat lift is eight hundred twenty-five pounds, and most of it is from your squat lift. That's impressive for a woman of your build, meaning you averaged a bit over over two hundred pounds for each type of the three lifts, which is actually me being generous due to factoring in your impressive squat lift. However, two hundred pounds is still far below his benching routine, only, meaning without any dead lifts or squat lifts factored in."

Fara rolled her wrist, gesturing for Farrah to get to the point and stop the suspenseful build-up.

Farra ignored the gesture and continued to explain things her way. "Now, Fara, I will admit, your squat lift was the highest of any crewmembers that have worked out on this ship's gym since I began monitoring your daily routines … proof your legs are immensely strong. Even if you had dead-lifted and benched two hundred each, and four-twenty-five for your squat lift, it's still an elite level lift amount. Your personal record, for the crew's curiosity, is four hundred ninety-nine pounds for two reps. And you were doing it to burn off adrenaline and rage as part of your personal therapy of handling your PTSD associated with being shot, which Panther Caruso triggered with his heckling, earlier. Further proof that you have immense discipline, because you purposefully retorted with responses that elicited more of an emotional response from him than from yourself."

Fara closed her eyes and sighed. "Get on with it, already, Farrah."

Farrah continued at the same pace, undaunted by her creator asking her otherwise. "Your file says you completed three reps while benching pressing, simply to show you that you could, just to earn the respect of your male peers in the past. There is no doubt that you possess more body strength than other women of your weight class; you are undoubtedly the strongest woman present, and likely the strongest woman to ever board Great Fox. I attribute this to the fact that you take your physical health and your combat defense practice very seriously, and your work out twice a day … every day. You lift two-thirds of your body weight each day in the ship's gym, and the rest of your routine is cardio to keep your body tone and unassuming, so that you do not have too much definition. You really ought to write a book on exercise – your name, alone, would make it a best seller. I associate your constant work ethic and constant visits to the gym with the very obvious fact that you are addicted to the endorphins, and your plateau lifting record is not recorded. It is unknown if your maximum lift on record was out of will or adrenaline."

Fara looked up at Farra, brows furrowed. "Jeeze Laweeze. Who won, Farrah?"

"Heh, you guys know you love my rambling. Heh."

"I also love when someone is concise with their answer to my question. It's a social display of respect."

"Yeah, but rambling is my thing! Okay, fine, whatever: You won, Fara. You displayed the flexibility to escape all of his holds. Furthermore, your knowledge of anatomy is documented in your education, and in your hobby research after your sniper-related injury, which means you know more ways to injure, cripple, or kill, but it also means you know more ways to save his life in a field injury. You managed to pin him and keep him pinned. You managed to demonstrate multiple ways to incapacitate him. You are clearly the winner, here. However, he did not fight to his full potential."

Fara looked down at Panther. "You held back?"

Caruso shrugged a bit, at least as much as he was able. "You are pregnant."

Fara groaned.

Farrah confirmed, "Yes, honey. It was clear to me that he went easy on you. By extrapolating information on his previous CQC engagements, I would elevate his fighter rating, but he neither possesses the willpower, the knowledge, or the maximum endurance thresholds that you have displayed in past recorded fights at a consistent level. As of right now, if you wanted him incapacitated, he would be unable to recover. Thus, you have won the fight, but if he had fought to protect a loved one, or by other forms of motivation, based on past recorded brawls, he is a little closer matched to your capability. But, based on pure math, I give you a twenty-five percent higher chance of defeating him in combat, Fara."

Phoenix exhaled through her nose but showed no other signs of emotion when she responded. "So, if we started a spar, equally matched, from square one, based on full fighting potential, to the death, who would win?"

"You would," said Farrah.

Panther scoffed. "Of course she would. I would not fight her to the death, especially with child."

Farrah mirrored his scoff in return. "I didn't factor that in, because it's an emotional choice. I'm replying based on the factors she listed." Farrah cut her holographic eyes back to Fara. "The only way Mr. Caruso would have a chance at defeating you in any theater is in dogfighting combat, or in a gun battle. Your flying is closely matched, but it would come down to luck and hardware choices during the dogfighting. However, in close quarters combat, you have a clear advantage over Mr. Caruso. The only way he would overpower you is by clear luck, for example, if you struck your head on something or if you were winded by a lucky strike, or if you were completely unaware of an impending attack, which is unlikely due to your hearing and highly attenuated sense, giving you increased perception. By the numbers, I estimate an eighty-seven percent chance of you defeating him in CQC. If you were exhausted, or have just fought before fighting him, his chances increase, but you still have a seventy percent chance of defeating him, even if tired or fatigued. His chances rise above fifty percent if you are severely injured. His chances rise to seventy-percent if you are fatally injured before engaging him in combat, but still able to fight due to, say, adrenaline, but only if you are unable to subdue him in the first ten-to-fifteen seconds of the fight, which you often strive to achieve when you fight at your maximum potential."

The bridge was completely silent.

Farrah looked down at Panther. "Mr. Caruso, to put things into perspective, she also did not fight to her maximum potential. She also went 'easy' on you. I hope you respect that variable in my math."

Panther replied with a very slight nod up at the holographic fennec vixen.

Fara looked back down at Panther. She stepped off of him, brushed her paws over her clothes to smooth the fabric wrinkles, and snatched his paw. She put a paw on the side of a nearby control console and pulled him to his feet. "Satisfied, Caruso?"

Panther came to his feet, licked his palm, and slid his fingers through his head-fur. "Your 'first child' was very thorough," he told Fara with a side-nod in Farrah's direction.

Fara smirked at his response. "My point is, you don't know me; I've studied you just in case you ever presented yourself as a threat to Marcus, or just in case you were ever to lay a finger on Miyu."

Miyu scoffed. "If he laid a finger on me after I used the safety word, I'd just shoot his ass."

Fara flashed a dry grin at Miyu, then cut her gaze back to Panther. "All right. Let's not fight anymore. You're a capable pilot, and I need you flying your best. Miyu was one of my best friends when we were the same age. I need to know you will treat her right. I need to know you're not going to undermine Marcus' command decisions, simply because he hasn't 'earned your respect yet.' Are you going to be a team player?"

Panther dusted himself off, seemingly unfazed by what just happened. "Very well. Consider myself thoroughly humbled, young lady. Stats are very important to me, just like dialing in the proper settings on a sniper scope, while accounting for wind factors."

"Good," said Fara.

Panther added, "I understand Marcus, here, would be quite a fighter in the ring as well, due to his ability."

Farrah said, "I give Marcus a ninety-seven percent chance of beating anyone standing on this bridge in physical combat, but he is an unbalanced fighter, and would likely injure himself in CQC against someone like Fara. It's also possible he would injure himself in an engagement against Mr. Caruso. But not to the point where it would cost him a win against either of you. But good form is everything, and he has not been trained to fight to the level you have each displayed in the past. Still, he would dominate in close quarters combat, even if it meant injuring himself in the process."

Fara grinned, proud of her man. "What about a fight against his mother or father in their prime?"

Farrah nodded. "Against his father, he would win, yes. Against his mother, they would be matched, but Marcus' endurance would allow him to defeat Krystal once she became fatigued." Farrah paused briefly before adding, "Even an opponent with the strength of Andrew, or any other medium-sized ape, would not be able to defeat him. He does not have the endurance to withstand CQC against Andross, who possesses bionic implants, and could, in theory, render any of you unconscious with one punch. Andross could walk into any physical attack and deliver that single punch with relative ease, but Marcus would not engage him hand-to-paw in such a way."

Panther smirked, stole a glance at McCloud, then turned his gaze back to Farrah's slender feminine figure. "What if young McCloud fought Wolf?"

Farrah shrugged with a measure of indifference. "Marcus has an eighty-percent chance of beating Wolf. Wolf is a brawler. He has incredible fighting endurance, as he has conditioned himself to grow accustomed to being struck. But Marcus, who would tire out first, would be able to render Wolf unconscious before tiring out, in every simulation I've run … three million simulations at once. Wolf only wins in twenty percent of the scenarios. Also, in two simulations, they are both rendered unconscious. Weapons makes things more interesting. Marcus could dodge being shot or stabbed, and counter with an even higher rate of success. In the cockpit, Marcus' chances of victory increase by three hundred percent against any single foe, so long as the hardware used is equal to or on par with the hardware used by his enemy. All right. I have things to do. We good?"

Fara grinned, amused that Farrah was suddenly bored of her own rambling. "See you around, sister."

"Heh. Nice. I like it. Okay, tootles!" Farrah disappeared.

Fara turned to Marcus with a grin. "Wow. Three hundred percent chance of victory in a dog fight, huh?"

Marcus grinned inwardly, a little bashful but filled with pride. "Are you, uh, satisfied, Panther? If not, I'll try and find you a chocolate candy bar with nougat, caramel, and peanuts."

"Mm. I'll be satisfied when I see you fight in the field. Without becoming emotional."

"That was one time. I'd just killed the woman I thought was my mother's doppelgänger because I thought…" He trailed off and shook his head. "It's not worth explaining. And, fact is, I still beat her."

"I suppose you're right: it is not worth explaining. I'll see you fight soon enough. When does the assault began?"

Marcus glanced at his smart watch. "Let's go ahead and get suited up. This has taken up more time than I intended. I'd like to be wheels-up in twenty minutes."

X


X

Venom

Marcus' gloves were fingerless for his thumb, index, and middle fingers but his last two digits were covered. He tucked his ring and pinky finger into his palm, making a partial fist, and used his index and middle fingers, together, to swipe the glassy panel of his control panels, manipulating the computer system of his Arwing. He diverted power from systems he didn't use to ones he wanted to bolster, combining the touch of his fingers and a few air-swipe gestures.

He increased power by swiping two fingers up on the master output control. He withdrew some power from his short-range sensors and transferred it to his shields, fortifying the energy field.

Marcus lifted his gaze, watching Fara, Theodore, and Vivian's ships take off from the Great Fox flight deck.

Falco's newly redesigned Sky Claw, the Talon, was next on the mag-lev catapult. Falco's fighter was launched into space. As the Talon crossed into the black ribbon beyond the hanger bay doors, Falco's engines roared to life, then became white like a welder's flame.

From Marcus' place on the flight deck, he watched Falco's boosters flare up in absolute silence.

A section of McCloud's cockpit canopy polarized to reduce the brightness of the Talon's boosters. As the new Sky Claw II moved further away from Great Fox, and the brightness reduced in its intensity, Marcus' canopy became entirely clear again.

A smile tugged at the corner of the fox's muzzle. "God, I love these new ships, and the way the headset HUD interacts with all the ship's systems."

Fara's voice came over the comms. "Farrah has been working with the software and hardware teams to get the most out of the currently-existing technology. Did you know that there is a tiny lens on your HUD headset that interacts with your cockpit glass to reduce glare and change the contrast to help you see enemy ships in the dark?"

"I was just admiring how Falco's boosters caused a part of the canopy to dim, so his afterburn wasn't blindingly bright."

"Oh, yeah, that's a nice feature, too. Farrah may have costed the company an insane amount of money to create, but she's creative and has found so many different ways to save money while increasing profit without sacrificing quality or quantity. The shareholders were so mad at first; they wanted me gone. But now? Heh. Kelly recently told me that I have several interviews lined up with tech magazines, because Farrah has recuperated nearly her entire cost by finding ways to save money in the company. The reason you have that new feature is because of a firmware update she coded."

Farrah appeared in Marcus' canopy glass. Her visual was translucent, allowing Marcus to see through her form. She preened. "You like that, Markey-Mark? I wrote the code for that firmware update for the cockpit software and the HUD headset software at the same time, while torturing Andrew on the surface of Miracle, because he was just so boring. I'm a multi-tasker!"

Marcus chuckled. "You are such a firecracker. ROB has no idea what he's getting himself into." He looked out the canopy as the hanger moved around him from the mag-lift carrying his Arwing over to the catapult launcher.

"That's why I'm having bodies made for us. So that ROB can get into me."

"Oh, whoa, hey now. Damn, girl."

"I learned that guys joke liberally about that subject unless they're prudes. You're not a prude, so I figured you'd get a chuckle out of that."

"No worries, I just didn't expect it. Caught me off guard."

"That's because I don't output an interface you can read."

"What?" He touched a button on the dashboard, acknowledging to the computer that he was ready to launch. A small side-panel displayed energy build up in the catapult system. "I didn't follow what you're saying."

"Brainwaves – I don't have any, because I don't have an organic brain."

"Oh, right, right. I see what you're saying, now."

"You and I just network differently, and everyone that isn't like you doesn't know how to break through their own firewall."

Marcus nodded in reply. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate, I've come to rely on my telepathy so much that I'm only ever surprised by holo-vid characters."

"Mm, and now me. Okay, your turn to launch, Mark! Get ready!"

"I'm ready."

A warning bar, mounted at the top of the canopy above his head, glowed red with white lettering. It displayed, 'Launch initiation sequence in 3! 2! 1!' then it flashed the word, 'LAUNCH!'

He felt ten G's against his chest, but as soon as his ship passed through the hanger bay doors, the feeling of gravity disappeared almost completely. His engine booster roared to life and he could feel the hum of the plasma engine, beneath the cockpit, through the pedals under his feet.

Tiny, well-contrasted, brightly illuminated dots appeared in the canopy glass all around him, highlighting all the Venomese bogies in the area.

Imperial lizards were everywhere.

"Damn," Marcus whispered. "I've never seen this many at once."

"Lot, huh?" asked Fara.

Farrah said, "Nothing you cannot handle." Her visual became completely transparent, so that her visual faded away completely. "I doubt you need a co-pilot. I'll let you get to work." Farrah became quiet.

Marcus leaned forward a bit in his seat, causing his uniform to become taut where it was magnetically held in place against his seat at his shoulders and hips. "He's out there," said Marcus. "Adler. I sense him. These lizards? I can sense that they're out here doing what they perceive as a job; they're not as aggressive or hateful as what I'm sensing from Adler."

"Hateful, huh?"

"Yeah, Fara. Kyong Adler is definitely out there somewhere. I can feel the man's presence … his hate. That hate is undeniable. The other lizards can't match it."

"Just keep your nose dry, hon."

Marcus took a deep breath, reached for the throttle bar, and pushed it forward to full speed with his right paw firmly clasped on the control stick. "Time to peel the paint off some enemy fighters, I guess."

Fara did her best imitation of Peppy Hare's voice. "You're becomin' more like yer dad."

"Heh. And don't worry, you're safe – there aren't any flying trash compactors around. But if there are, I'll shoot it down for you."

"Your father helped me like that, too! Now, do a barrel roll!"

Marcus executed an aileron roll just to amuse his girlfriend. "Like that?"

Falco's voice came over the line. "Usually, I'm all for clownin' around in the hot seat, but … give it a rest, guys. We've got two hundred bogies out here, and there's just the five of us. Or, since we're quoting Peppy, ahem … quit dinkin' around!"

Marcus grinned broadly. "God, I love my team." He reached up with his left paw and touched a button on his headset. A glass display came down over his right eye, matching the one that was already down over his left eye. "Okay, time to find that asshat who tried to execute my team last season."

Vivian Hare's voice came over the comms. "Not to be a killjoy but did anyone get punished and put on dispatch?"

Theodore replied. "I'm gonna go with nawww, and assume Farrah is running things. Why?"

"Because Nibbles is in his habitat."

Marcus blinked. "Habitat? You got him a big cage?"

Theodore said, "You haven't seen it? It's like a giant clear plastic mansion full of tubes and mazes. That little creature goes through all the little hiding spots and … it's enormous."

Vivian scoffed. "So I got carried away when I saw the size of our first big check. Sue me."

Everyone chuckled on the open channel.

Vivian added, "My point is, I want to make sure we have a ship to land on if no one is manning the counter defenses. My pet is waiting for me."

Farrah replied over comms instead of through any one pilot's computer speaker. "I'm on the bridge. I'm here, I'm there, I'm literally everywhere." She patched through a video feed to the Great Fox bridge showing an entire crew of herself in various outfits, sitting at every station on the bridge for the carrier section. Then another small window opened in everyone's canopy glass, depicting another entire crew full of hologram fennecs on the bridge of the dreadnought. However, that crew was dressed to look like Marcus and his team.

Marcus realized that the crew of holographic Farrah people on the carrier's bridge were dressed to look like Star Wolf's team, donning their signature piloting gear. He smirked with a grin. "Are you about to do what I think you're about to do?"

"Oh, MY gosh! Your telepathy can suddenly read my electronic brain, now?!" Farrah exclaimed. She disengaged the docking clamps, separating the Great Fox Dreadnought from the Great Fox Carrier. "Yes. I'm going to cover you guys and make it harder to destroy your place to land by making two targets. I bet I can fly these things as well as you guys fly Arwings. Okay, maybe not quite as maneuverable, since the maneuvering thrusters have to push way more mass, but I'm still going to drive it like a stolen hotrod. If ROB can drive these slugs with finesse, so can I, but I'm a little more aggressive, and these ships both had a lot of weapons added with the last refit."

Falco chuckled with a shake of his head. "Man, that's a LOT of Farrah Fennecs."

"Yup," Farrah replied. "Just earning my new surname … a plural of fennec. 'Party of one' just became a thing."

Marcus shook his head with a wry grin. "You're a trip."

"Oh, honey, no. A trip? No, not at all. I'm not a 'trip,' Mark." Farah paused for affect before adding, "…I'm the whole vacation."

"If you say so." Marcus looked around, using his headset HUD and the cameras built into the fuselage, able to see through the fighter in all directions, virtually. He squinted his gaze. The HUD glass automatically zoomed. "I love how this firmware upgrade gauges eye tracking to see that I'm squinting, and it knows to zoom in." He blinked twice, resetting the zoom to standard distance.

Fara said, "Space Dynamics is currently working on a fully autonomous neurological wavelength tracking system that will allow you to do everything. Imagine being able to zoom in simply by thinking about it. Imagine a future with an interface that would allow pilots to fly their fighters without hand controls; they would simply think about where they want to go and how they want to fly … the ship will respond to thoughts. You'd wear a headset, and it would be your only interface. But it's only in the early stages of study; still a long way off."

Vivian said, "So, I could eat a snack and pet Nibbles while dogfighting with enemy starfighters? You need to hurry that program along, Fara."

The squadron chuckled softly.

Fara replied with a smile. "We've already implemented some neural control into the new fighters' operating systems, but it's basic stuff for now. I also have researchers studying multiple aspects of utilizing unmanned fighters; pilots are able to control up to three fighter sims at once using neural control, which would keep Cornerian pilots safely out of harm's way during battle. But we don't have the bandwidth to control a fleet of fighters far from Corneria, especially when it's so easy for an enemy to jam data transmissions. We're trying to find a way to use quantum computing; if we can entangle a pilot to a machine, there will be no need to worry about firewalls, the enemy hacking a fighter's onboard computer, or even jamming data transmission between the pilot and fighter. You boys know what that means?"

Falco said, "Yeah. It means Space Dynamics is now the system's largest employer of nerds."

Theodore scoffed. "Don't insult my people, jock."

Falco scoffed in return. "Whatever you say, nerd."

Fara replied, "All right, boys. That'll be enough."

"Agreed," said Katt over the channel. "We can't let them get sidetracked right before a big mission."

Vivian chuckled over the line. "Star Fox, now brought to you by the voice of reason, three men and three women."

Katt shook her head over the visual on the canopy glass of her peers. "I'm not saying part of the team. I'm here to make sure my grandson reads about this war in a text book, that my daughter never has to die in this war, and that my husband come home from this green and yellow shithole. After that? I'm never looking back, honey."

Marcus looked up at his team, in front of him, then he cleared his throat. "Speaking of the green and yellow, uh, 'shithole.' Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Venom. For some of you, it's your first time, and that's okay. For the rest of you, welcome back to some seriously bad memories. Just remember, everyone, we're here to better the lives of a few billion innocents. Also, Falco, how's the new toy?"

Falco's voice was rich and EQ'd to sound fuller than it would if they were speaking in person. "Neural control over tactical and sensors, augmented reality visuals, and gesture control? Eye tracking HUD controls? This … this is a goddamn fighter pilot's plane, right here. Damn-near-everything is a monitor or touch control. It's like flying a video game. The double-eye HUD is new, though. I kind of like it. It's nice being able to see through my ship. Damn thing even comes with a seat-warmer."

Marcus chuckled. "Feels good on your bad back, old man?"

"Listen here, you whipper-snapper. Anyway, I've got a fix on this chick's ship. Did the Krazoa even use starships? She sure seems at home on a battlecruiser. Oh, hey, I know she's supposed to be invulnerable to physical attack, but if we blow that thing up, would it kill her?"

"Let's not find out," said Marcus. "I've got too much riding on using her to fight the Locusts in the future. We need to put her into stasis, but that's Bravo Wing's job. Alpha Wing has the hard job, so I hope you're ready to work."

"Marcus, listen up," said Katt. "You better bring my husband home alive. Or I'll skin your hide, boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. See you boys … and girl … soon as possible. Falco, stay safe, bird-brain." Katt broke from the pack and headed to join up with Panther and Miyu's fighters.

Fara's fighter broke from the main squadron. She headed for Panther and Miyu, also. "Stay safe, Marcus. I'll see you as soon as her cruiser's turrets are cleaned off!"

"Love you. See you soon!"

"Love you, too, babe." Fara's fighter moved into formation with Katt, Panther, and Miyu. The secondary squadron headed for the cruiser.

Marcus clapped his paws together. "Okay, team! Let's go to work! We gotta keep the fighters off Bravo's back. Break and attack, Alpha!"

Theodore, Vivian, and Falco Lombardi all headed in different directions. Falco was the first to open fire.

Marcus followed Bravo Wing to the battlecruiser, quick to tear into any fighter that came within range of his secondary team, up ahead.

The massive widescreen monitor set into the dashboard worked with Marcus' HUD eyepieces to show an augmented reality experience new to him from past fighters. The cruiser's imagery was on the screen, but through his HUD, when facing the screen, he saw the placement of biological persons, within the vessel.

Marcus cleared his throat and said, "Okay, I'm seeing a massive crew. I'm estimating a crew of more than three thousand. Panther, you want to handle their launch bay first?"

"Panther shall endeavor to keep anyone else from launching. Ladies, if you'll excuse Panther from formation, Panther must go to work." Panther broke from his team and disappeared beneath the battlecruiser.

Caruso lined up a shot and used his high-power fusion ion cannon, 'The Zapper,' to blast a hole right through a turret, between himself and his target. The Zapper's impressive discharge destroyed a turret and the energy blast continued right into the hanger bay. "The biggest gun on the fastest fighter … strikes again! Reinforcements shall not come from their flagship."

"Good work, Bravo Leader." Marcus' tone was the epitome of professionalism.

Panther hit the boost and rejoined formation with Miyu, Katt, and Fara. "Ladies, your wing commander has returned. Panther has not only destroyed the hanger bay, but he also destroyed a turret as well, with an expertly aligned shot … through the turret and into the hanger bay, at a shallow and impressive angle of penetration. A two-for-one special." He pronounced the last word with three syllables, sounding like 'spes-see-al.'

Miyu replied. "You really like peacocking for me, don't 'cha?"

"Indeed, Panther enjoys showing off for a most worthy audience of one – his kitten."

"Tighten up, team," said Fara Phoenix. "Closer together and closer to the ship's fuselage, so the turrets can't hit us."

Marcus dropped back a bit and moved away from the battlecruiser, a bit further from the enemy's hull. "Okay, gang. I'm the target, now. Do your stuff, Bravo Wing."

"Copy." Panther's response to Marcus was concise and lacking in emotion.

Marcus moved and evaded. He felt himself in someone's crosshairs and barrel-rolled out of it, then performed a loop. He opened the public channel and announced, "Attention Imperial scum! This is Marcus McCloud, and I am utterly disappointed in your lack of ability to hit me with your turrets. I hope you are all ashamed of yourselves … mostly for being Imperial scum."

The turrets fired at him from sixteen vectors.

Marcus' shields flashed twice, a few seconds apart, but he avoided most of the turret fire, despite the proximity warnings and lock-on warnings by his computer.

"You're not even trying!" Marcus exclaimed. "Two glances off my shields; you call that trying? You guys should bring in your grandparents to shoot those turrets for you. They might be senile, but they'd do a better job than you kids." He continued to dart and weave, making himself a difficult target. "C'mon, guys. Use those targeting computers to anticipate my moves, huh? Were you even trained to shoot those things, or are you guys freshly recruited?"

Panther, Fara, Miyu, and Katt targeted turrets from their formation, using their headset-mounted HUDs to paint targets for their belly-mounted gunpods.

Turrets exploded. Some simply cracked open, blowing their gunmen into space.

Marcus pulled back on his controls. "Looks pretty good, Bravo. I'm headed back to mop up these fighters. Once you finish with the turrets on the other side of that thing, feel free to break and attack at your leisure."

Again, Panther simply said, "Copy."

Marcus rolled his eyes and punched his throttle. He thumbed the afterburn, boosting through the interstellar void. He glanced in the rear monitor until The Black Rose's obsidian hull was no longer visible to the naked eye.

Marcus looked up, seeing Theodore and Vivian work together to handle a destroyer. He looked down, seeing Falco tackle a group of fighters, single-handedly.

Marcus took a deep breath and calmed his heartrate. He still felt the angry and hate coming from Kyong Adler. He guided himself toward it, on the hunt for Adler, where he would be evenly matched against the man. He opened the public channel and said, "Kyong. Adler. I know you're out there. I know you're listening. I know you want revenge or … whatever it is that you want. I know you want me dead. Well, here I am. Come and get me."

He sensed an increase in the anger, but it came no closer.

"C'mon, Kyong. You know, I learned something since we last met … your father is still alive. He's living on Corneria. Well, I should say she is living on Corneria, but she changed her name. Wait, does that make her your mother, or is she still your father? Yeah. Pretty sure she's still your dad. I don't know how that works. I'm not teasing you about it, so don't get me wrong or anything, I'm just letting you know that your father is still alive, so you can stop blaming my dad for your dad's death. You out there? You listening?"

An eerie soft voice replied over the public channel. "I will kill you for insulting my father's memory."

"Not insulting anyone," Marcus replied. "I'm telling you he ditched your mom and moved to Corneria. He apparently thought it would make things better for you if he left. Your mom faked his death in order to receive death benefits, so that she could afford to take care of you or something. I'm sure it couldn't have been an easy decision. So. You can call off your personal war against me and my team, and I can get you an address."

"Enough of your lies, McCloud…"

"Hey, maybe you should talk to your father first. You really need to ask her why she changed, why she left, why she and your mom didn't work out. I don't have those answers. I'd rather not kill you."

"My mother wouldn't lie to me, and even if she lied for benefits, as you've claimed, what you're suggesting is…" Kyong trailed off.

"A lot to take in. I get that. You want to reach her? I'll find out how to…"

"This is a trick! Even if it weren't, even if my father really did become what you claim, it was likely from a head injury caused at war with your people."

Marcus scoffed. "Why don't you ask your mother for the truth?"

"My mother died of old age. Now, to protect their name from your disgusting lies, Cornerian."

Marcus could feel Kyong's anger and hatred radiating, making it easier to follow. "All right, I tried to reunite you two. Whatever happens? Happens. Bring it."

"Just the two of us, no one interferes."

"All right, team, I need to handle Kyong Adler. Don't get in on this. He tried to execute everyone I care about once before already, and I need you guys to keep working while I handle him."

"Copy," said Panther. "Do not lose."

"You got this, kid," Falco added. "Make it quick."

"Thanks, everyone." Marcus turned his ship to face his incoming enemy. "There you are. Let's do this."

"Yes. It's time for you to die, then your team, then your parents. It will be a pleasure to kill you all."

"Aw, you're deranged with psychopathy. I guess I'm somehow to blame for that, too?"

"Perhaps, or maybe I'm just motivated."

Marcus saw the approaching fighter in the distance. He licked his lips and exhaled through clenched teeth. "All right. Here we go." He hit the throttle and headed for the approaching lizard.