Edit 1 Dec: Realised that I was one chapter ahead in the fic summary so if there was any confusion then lol

Complicated 8

Chasing Stars

Kain took the moments before the soldiers in the Clocktower realised that they were meant to switch on the alarm to reel from what had just happened. He spent the next few blocking out the blare of the siren to consider his options.

Baka and Tori—no, Slippy and Falco of the renowned mercenary team Star Fox—grew smaller in his vision as they made a break for the fighters. He pulled out the knife from his side, rotating it in a sweaty paw to stare into its edges.

He was still pretty mad.

For better or worse, he hadn't needed to resort to the knife to force some information out of the pair. But as he sat there, the answers to his questions faded further and further away.

Half a dozen soldiers scattered around the tarmac were converging on those answers. He hoped that the pair could fend them off, but there was another problem in his peripheral vision...

He clenched the knife in his fist and ran to the Clocktower.

*.*.*.*.*

Dexter slipped into the mini-theatre around the bend from the bedrooms. Max, who was reclining on the lounge with his eyes closed, jerked awake.

"I filmed this room, Dex. They've a passable movie collection, maybe we could nab a few physicals. Did you video weapons?"

"Yep. Got myself a little something, too." He twirled a small blaster in his paw.

Max smiled. "There's brains on this one."

"Sorry if my camera work is ass, I could barely sleep last night and it's just starting to get to me."

"What a coincidence."

"Phew, I thought you were gonna blame me for it."

"You're on your way to being in that exact position tomorrow morning. Also, nice shirt."

Max nodded towards the garish yellow T-shirt that Dex had on, which depicted a turquoise robotic feline with cartoonishly long pigtails.

"Very funny, Max."

"No, really! With zero sarcasm I can say that I'm happy to see a fellow Robot Voice fan, even if it is among the enemy, and even if I'm more partial to Gummy in particular. I've heard enough Primordial Sludge the past week to last me a year."

"When we return planetside, we can jam to the entire Robot Voice discography while we show off our sick vids."

"I'll drink to that."

"Okay, but not before five."

*.*.*.*.*

Fox leaned back from the stove and decided that he hadn't added enough chilli to the pot.

His tongue was already burning, but he needed more if he was going to surpass Peppy! Fox was getting sick of his own nigh-zero spice tolerance.

Before he could gingerly tip over the jar of chilli powder, a voice screamed from the bridge.

"INCOMING TRANSMISSION!"

Fox's hand jerked and spilled about five times as much powder as he'd intended to. He shot a venomous glare over the bench in ROB's direction.

"Fffff... I'm coming, ROB! I should have chopped them up myself..." Pushing aside the thought of his mouth's imminent demise, he rinsed the powder off and wiped his paws on his apron as he strode over to the console.

"Inbox?" Fox pondered. "Do you think it's fan mail, ROB?"

"IT WOULD BE NIGH IMPOSSIBLE TO RECEIVE ANONYMOUS FAN MAIL IN OUR CURRENT LOCATION."

"I'll get Slippy to build a sarcasm detector for you, okay?"

Fox pressed play and was immediately assaulted by a horrible screech. He fumbled for the volume knob and turned it down to two percent. The remaining second-hand embarrassment was nearly enough for him to cover his ears, but he let the... message run its off-key course. Heavy, hurried footsteps approached from the hallway past the kitchen.

"What's going on?" Slippy exclaimed. Fox glared at Falco right behind him, who wore a confused stare that suggested he didn't feel as ashamed as he ought to be.

"Why would you subject me to this?" Fox lamented, gesticulating in agony as the bridge speakers blasted out what sounded like Falco's death throes. "To yourself?"

"I hate myself, I guess?"

"I really am not high enough for this."

The console beeped again.

"INCOMING TRANSMISSION."

"Shut up! I've got it, ROB."

Fox patched the call through.

"Who is this?" trilled an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line.

"Ladies first," Fox said.

There was a crackle over the line before another voice screeched, "The f-BEEP is this s-BEEP—"

"ROB, turn off the damn censor!"

"BEEP YOU TOO, FOX."

Fox bent over the console, stopping short of pulling his fur. "Okay, who is this?!"

"Venom Quadrant 4 airbase, sir, and I just won a game of cards, baby."

Fox blinked and stared at ROB.

"Can you confirm—"

"AFFIRMATIVE, FOX. CALL ORIGINATES FROM VENOM'S SURFACE VIA CODE ENTRY."

Fox glared at the console. "How did they get our contact without a scan? Falco, what on earth did you and Slippy do down there?"

The last thing Fox was aware of was a sudden shadow and a painful explosion of fireworks in the side of his head.

*.*.*.*.*

What Slippy and Falco saw as they ran towards the bays was the last thing they wanted to see. Slippy wailed like a mourner as the lights on the bays switched to red.

Locked. Stuck on the ground.

"Slippy, could you fix that?" Falco cried.

"If you gave me a few hours, maybe!"

"We'll take a detour, then. Find another ship."

"They've probably locked all of them down!"

"Then we'll make 'em work for us."

Falco pulled Slippy around the fighters and pushed his head down. He took a few shots at the approaching soldiers to deter them.

"I wish we had some incendiary devices on us," Falco grumbled as he ducked away from some poorly-aimed retaliating blaster shots. "Or a smoke grenade. Or even those paintballs to get them off our tails."

"At least not all of them are armed," Slippy moaned. "Wait." He crouched down to look under the surrounding craft, then suddenly shuffled around the next fighter.

Falco aimed a few more shots while he waited for Slippy to report back. The sound of hammering against wood reached his ears.

He turned his head to find a lone soldier sneaking up on them from the other direction and shot him unconscious. Slippy looked up at him from the crate he'd just pummelled open with the help of his blaster and a nearby rock.

"Oil, nails and bullets!" Slippy shouted.

"Tripping hazards," said Falco. "These blasters won't take kinetic ammo."

"Toolboxes?"

"Bomb casing."

"Time left?"

"Not much. We'll leave some gifts and move on."

The aforementioned items spilled onto the dirt when Slippy heaved the crate over. He emptied out the heavier tools from the toolboxes and replaced part of their volume with nails and oil from the oil canisters that he'd pierced. Falco dashed over, grabbed a box and climbed onto the fighter's wing.

He waited for the soldiers to get closer before tossing the loose-lidded box. The nails splashed out along the ground, impeding the soldiers' approach.

Slippy tossed another one in the same direction before he and Falco grabbed a box each.

"Wait!" Falco grabbed Slippy's shoulder as he shot at the oil spill until the ground sparked and a wall of flame exploded skyward.

Slippy temporarily forgot the incoming danger and whooped.

"Let's lead them away," Falco said, nudging Slippy towards the middle of the runway. Slippy whimpered but ran out into the open.

The enemy shots followed him, but Falco stunned two of the most opportunistic ones and tossed his toolbox as he and Slippy made it to the other side. They crouched behind some crates and Slippy began his work again. When the wood split, they were treated to more containers of oil and nails, which Falco immediately tossed the way they'd come.

Without warning, the next crate over exploded. Slippy's recoil knocked them both face down to the ground relatively unharmed, save a cut to Falco's forehead from some shrapnel.

"Who the hell has a grenade launcher?" Falco growled. He shot a few times in the direction the explosive came from and knocked the guy out. "And at this time of day!"

Slippy came to and cradled his toolbox, struggling to decide when to launch it. He looked over the remaining crates, and discovered that he didn't have to.

He screamed Falco's name.

"You alright, Slippy?!"

"Very! Extremely! Our ships are free, now!"

Falco followed Slippy's outstretched arm to their nominated fighters. The lights were green again.

"Beautiful," Falco whistled.

"How?!"

"Doesn't matter, let's go!"

Falco, after throwing a few more projectiles, led Slippy on a weaving path, keeping cover behind more aircraft and containers haphazardly strewn about the runway. The soldiers' numbers had been bolstered by four, but they were sufficiently disorganised for Slippy and Falco to make their way back across the runway without having to fend off a coordinated attack. They returned to their original crate, launched the rest of the toolboxes, and uncanopied the fighters. They scrambled in and initiated the engines. From then on, the soldiers' fire was absorbed by the fighters' shields.

Falco rubbed the blood out of his eyes.

"Falco here, you ready to roll?"

"Slippy says copy that!"

*.*.*.*.*

"I panicked, alright?!" Dexter babbled, staring at the body slumped on the ground. "What do we do, now?"

"I think we've gotta haul tail," Max growled between gritted teeth. "Before the Hare gets here—"

"What in tarnation?!"

The Devil himself emerged from the hallway and was staring quizzically at the congregation around the console.

"Hey, Hare," said Max-as-Slippy, waving slowly.

"J-just a little rough and tumble," Dexter-as-Falco stammered. "Y'know, horseplay. Nothing out of the ordinary, here!" Max cuffed the back of his head.

"Did you have too much to drink?" Peppy asked. "It's a little early for that. Are you on something?"

"I wish."

"Just fear."

"Just make sure it isn't too expensive, alright? Job insecurity and all that."

Peppy rolled his eyes and turned to go back the way he came to escape the discord.

Dexter took out his blaster, aimed in Peppy's direction and pulled the trigger before Max could react. The shot, off by four feet, burned a hole through a holopainting and the wall behind it, and the explosion startled Peppy to his knees.

"Turn that shit to stun, idiot!" Max hissed, grabbing at the blaster.

Dexter elbowed him away. "Lay off, my aim is better!"

"Boys!" Peppy exclaimed as he got to his feet again. "You're too old to fight over toys." He turned to glare at them. Dexter pointed the blaster at a Peppy again.

"Sorry, old man," said Max.

*.*.*.*.*

The knife slipped from Kain's fingers. He collapsed against the Clocktower's console and was glad that there was no blood on his paws.

He guessed that the peacock had suffered a broken leg when he'd pushed him down the stairs, but the three of them would live. The goanna had decided to tend to his buddy instead of apprehending Kain, especially convinced when the wolf had brandished steel.

Kain gazed to the sky, watching two specks shrink into the atmosphere.

He unlocked the third fighter.

*.*.*.*.*

Max-as-Slippy and Dexter-as-Dexter stood back and admired their handiwork.

They'd grabbed some chairs and rope and tied up their unconscious victims, keeping them on-hand to prevent them from carrying out any funny business remotely before they could haul tail.

Dexter approached ROB 64, who was vibrating over to the side of the console, slowly realising that he had no one to contact about what had just happened.

"Got a mute button on you, buddy?" Dexter asked, holding ROB by the shoulders and peering around the robot's body.

"I SUPPOSE THE ANSWER FOR YOU IS, I DON'T KNOW."

Dexter's paw glided over to a well-labelled button that said 'mute', and he gave ROB a pat on the shoulder. "Good man."

"Home time," Max sighed, looking aside at Fox, who was slumped over with his head hanging down. Satisfied that the ship was sufficiently locked down, he transformed and fixed Dexter with a hard look.

*.*.*.*.*

Slippy hailed the Great Fox from his fighter, and was only partly surprised to learn that ROB was muted.

"Guess he really drove them mad," Falco remarked.

Slippy exhaled heavily and peered at his console. The text ROB had sent them nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

"Imposters?" Slippy yelped.

"Explain."

"I don't know, some sort of advanced illusory device? But who even has that sort of tech?"

"Guess we're about to find out. ROB, let us dock."

The hangar's barrier vanished. As they hovered in, the pair spotted two fighters identical to the ones they'd stolen parked crookedly in the bays.

"Venomian soldiers..." Slippy pondered. He reached for the hangar controls and double locked every fighter in, including the Arwings, then led Falco up the stairs.

"In our bays," Falco grumbled, cocking his blaster. "ROB, what's the situation?"

FOX AND PEPPY HAVE BEEN INCAPACITATED AND APPREHENDED. THEY AND THE IMPOSTERS ARE IN THE BRIDGE.

"It's not enough that he has to speak in caps," Slippy muttered.

"That's called shouting, nerd," said Falco.

INTERCEPT THEM BEFORE THEY CAN ESCAPE. WHY DID YOU NOT SEND POSTCARDS?

"Be grateful you didn't see what was down there."

Before Slippy could exit the hangar, Falco pulled him back by the shoulder.

"I'll go first this time," Falco murmured.

Slippy merely gave him a face showing equal parts gratitude and acute pain, and let him pass.

*.*.*.*.*

"You done yet?"

"Wait, Max, I gotta try the grub!"

Dexter felt around for a spoon while hovering his camera dangerously close to the half-cooked curry in the pot.

"I don't want to have to hit them again," Max groaned, tapping anxious fingers on the console. He started when he saw movement in his peripheral vision, but their captives were still motionless.

He started again when Dexter let out a yip.

"Hot," Dexter whimpered. He withdrew from the stove and dropped the spoon on the floor to complete a three-start combo on Max.

*.*.*.*.*

Fox stayed slumped over for a little while longer before cracking open an eye. A shadow was hovering in front of him, tapping its foot on the ground. Too close for his eyes to focus properly. Peppy was still out. Slippy and Falco were gone.

The shadow was facing away. Fox flexed a claw and brought it up to the rope around his wrists.

A voice spoke and he froze.

"Hurry up, Dex, let's go."

"Back in your birthday suit, I see."

"That's not what it means! You keeping the shirt?"

"Well, I don't really have time to change back, do I?"

Under the cover of the intruders' bickering, Fox sawed away at the rope, feeling the threads snap one at a time. He kept his head down.

"Ready?" said the shadow.

The other voice grunted through a burnt tongue.

"Then grab a drink and let's go."

Fox felt the last thread break and opened his other eye. Peppy was still out.

Looked like he had to go it alone, by force this time.

He waited until the intruders were halfway to the hallway before slicing the ropes around his legs and creeping over to take cover behind the kitchen bench. He grabbed a metal ladle from the benchtop and held it at his side as he snuck up on the intruders.

He let out a battle cry before swinging the ladle at the head of the taller one, the raven.

The husky jerked forward as his partner copped the blow and stumbled into the wall. He ducked Fox's second swing and threw a punch that missed. Fox backpedalled away.

"Peppy, room service!" Fox shouted, staggering back over to the kitchen to grab the nearest pointy object. Peppy's head stirred.

"Oh no, you don't!" said the husky. He whipped out his blaster, releasing a shot that Fox narrowly avoided. Fox tossed the ladle at him, which didn't hit but startled the blaster out of the husky's paws. The raven barged forward as the husky bent over for the blaster.

Fox swiped a knife, hurdled over the bench and flung a stray mug at the raven. He shielded his face with a wing as the ceramic shattered against the wall behind him.

Fox ducked under another blast and dashed over to Peppy.

"Wake up!" he hissed, slapping Peppy's cheeks before slashing the ropes.

"Hunh?" was all Peppy said before he toppled face-first onto the floor. He blinked the confusion out of his eyes, took one look at their disgruntled company, and asked Fox, "Where's your blaster?"

"I don't need one for cooking!"

"You never know, James."

"Wasn't listening. Get over the stun."

"Hey, he's got a gun."

"I know, take cover!"

Peppy shielded himself with the chair and sidestepped towards more solid cover as Fox continued to bark.

"Peppy, why do you have your blaster?"

"Just in case I needed to break up a fight or two. Which I nearly had to."

"You could have, before we ended up in this situation. Do you know where Slippy and Falco were before you came to?"

"Weren't they with you?"

Fox blinked and took a moment to look down at his comm.

"Peppy... they aren't on the ship."

A paralysing blast that scrambled a hologram on the bridge's console wrenched their attention back to the opposition. Peppy aimed a retaliating blast that nipped the feathers on top of the raven's head.

Then the husky convulsed and fell forwards onto his face, landing spread-eagled in the middle of the doorway. The raven scrambled for cover in the kitchen, out of Peppy's line of fire.

Fox's face lit up like a lamp.

"It's time you two showed up!" he exclaimed.

Slippy and Falco emerged from the hallway. Slippy gave a quick salute as Falco raised his blaster.

"Grab his weapon!" Peppy commanded. Slippy shuffled forward to claim the husky's gun, but instead received a mug to his face that toppled him to his knees.

A second later, Falco was looking down the barrel of the raven's blaster. Slippy became like the rock.

"Welp," said Falco.

"That had better been set to stun," the raven growled, hovering a finger above his slider.

"Take a look for yourself."

"I'm not taking my eyes off you."

"Who are you? What are you here for?"

"Just let us go and we'll leave you alone."

"You're Venom," Slippy said. His voice was muffled by the floor. "Why should we trust you?"

They were interrupted by a loud clatter as Fox tripped over Peppy's chair and the pair of them shrieked.

The raven squawked and fired. Falco dodged with a yelp and fired blindly as he fell. Slippy tackled the raven and slammed him against the counter. They grunted as they grabbed at each other's necks.

A seventh voice cried out, "Wait, I know them!"

I'm not actually much into 'irl Robot Voice' jsyk. Also I don't drink so hopefully Dex's comment doesn't seem silly. Trivia: alternate chapter title was 'Flight of Faith'.