Chapter 2:
The alarm blared, the red lights flashed. Fox was shaken out of his deep sleep and dream of remembrance. The dream of the past was not over. The general's last words echoed in his mind; "We strongly urge you to reconsider your decision to decline our offer," the general spoke to him wearily, before Fox secretly took off on his lonely journey.
"Warning! Imperial spacecraft detected in the vicinity of the Great Fox!" Rob reported.
Fox laughed. One of life's cruel ironies, always shaken back to a reality much grimmer than expected. The empire had been destroyed. Perhaps the "visitors" were the leftovers. Whoever they were, he was not ready to engage in an all-out dogfight yet, but was left with no choice. He never lost his composure, but this time around, he was alone. No caring nags from old Peppy, no smart last minute rescues from Falco – alone, completely alone.
Judging from the nearby constellations, he was nearing Venom. The green, luminous vapors around the planet gleamed ever so devilishly. He looked down at the panel for his assailants. Ominous red dots cluttered the radar in neat formations. They were only three miles away. Twelve Hornet class imperial spacecrafts, better known as bogies, and three unidentified. Fox squinted his eyes, straining to see them. He could make out the black ships, and three silver ones.
"A bold confrontation, huh?" Fox laughed cruelly to himself.
Grabbing his helmet, he dashed to the docking bay.
"Rob, auto-defense mode."
"Roger."
He hopped lightly into the cockpit of his trusty Arwing. With seatbelt fastened and vacuum chamber sealed, he was ready to go. Fox took a deep breath. He had to watch out for his own back – this was the first time he has ever been so far away from security. His eyes fell upon two photos that were taped onto the top of the cockpit confinements – one of James McCloud, his father, another of Fara. Fox paused.
Rob informed him that the assailants were now a mile away. No time for hesitation, he told himself. He took off from the Great Fox and headed straight for them. A barrage of laser met him as he flew. Fox pulled off a few barrel rolls with ease, dodging the gunfire, then letting loose a volley of his own. Six bogies destroyed. He zoomed towards the remaining few, their formation broken and their nerves wrecked from Fox's daunting performance. Another merciless volley; two more down.
"Fox, bogey on your tail," Rob warned through the transmitter.
He looked towards the left – they were gone! Spinning his head wildly, he spotted them behind his Arwing. The space lit up with an eerie red, and his Arwing shook violently; he was shot on the wing.
Gritting his teeth, he did a complete flip and fired, blasting another two. The remaining two were on his tail, following closely. Suicide mode - Fox recognized, shit! He began to panic. Surely his Arwing would not sustain two suicidal blows from the bogies.
Just then, two steady beams tore through the hulls of the lightly armored bogies. They were reduced to space dust. Fox looked back. The laser cannons at the head of the Great Fox sizzled and smoked.
"Thanks Rob, nice one," Fox commended and let a sigh of relief. The robot chuckled monotonously.
Rob was his only ally out here. He smirked at that thought. Rob is weird and quirky, but Fox decide he had a lot of Slippy in him – appearing weak, frantic, and frail, but surprising the enemies at the appropriate moment. There was no time to think; Fox had some business to tend to. Now all that remained were the other "unidentified spacecrafts", three in total. They sat back and watched, as if overseeing the bogies that were no more. Fox calmly floated to a position in front of their triangular formation and sent a transmission.
"Sorry, but I'm not quite in the mood for more trouble. So, mind telling me who you work for?" he interrogated them in an intimidating manner, wild authority reeking from his voice. A long pause ensued.
"… We work for Starwolf," the one in lead finally stammered. The panel screen showed that they were reptilian, somewhat daunted by the elimination of their small squadron.
"Wrong answer," Fox snarled savagely, baring his teeth, then jerked the trigger violently.
A glowing blue globe zoomed towards the direction of the reptilian spacecrafts. A nauseating buzz was audible – a buzz that meant only one thing: Nova Bomb. It detonated in the middle of the triangular formation, sending explosive shockwaves in all directions. Fox flipped his Arwing and flew away to avoid the mass explosion and the debris that it sent forth.
Starwolf, Fox thought to himself, how ironic – his worst enemy establishing his own little empire on the fringes of Cornerian control, mustering Andross' remaining forces into his own command, and now he just happened to stumble into his territory. He shook off further thought. Clearly, he was being watched by them in some way, and that sickened him. He drifted back to the repair bay wearily before sinking deeper in thought.
The alarm blared, the red lights flashed. Fox was shaken out of his deep sleep and dream of remembrance. The dream of the past was not over. The general's last words echoed in his mind; "We strongly urge you to reconsider your decision to decline our offer," the general spoke to him wearily, before Fox secretly took off on his lonely journey.
"Warning! Imperial spacecraft detected in the vicinity of the Great Fox!" Rob reported.
Fox laughed. One of life's cruel ironies, always shaken back to a reality much grimmer than expected. The empire had been destroyed. Perhaps the "visitors" were the leftovers. Whoever they were, he was not ready to engage in an all-out dogfight yet, but was left with no choice. He never lost his composure, but this time around, he was alone. No caring nags from old Peppy, no smart last minute rescues from Falco – alone, completely alone.
Judging from the nearby constellations, he was nearing Venom. The green, luminous vapors around the planet gleamed ever so devilishly. He looked down at the panel for his assailants. Ominous red dots cluttered the radar in neat formations. They were only three miles away. Twelve Hornet class imperial spacecrafts, better known as bogies, and three unidentified. Fox squinted his eyes, straining to see them. He could make out the black ships, and three silver ones.
"A bold confrontation, huh?" Fox laughed cruelly to himself.
Grabbing his helmet, he dashed to the docking bay.
"Rob, auto-defense mode."
"Roger."
He hopped lightly into the cockpit of his trusty Arwing. With seatbelt fastened and vacuum chamber sealed, he was ready to go. Fox took a deep breath. He had to watch out for his own back – this was the first time he has ever been so far away from security. His eyes fell upon two photos that were taped onto the top of the cockpit confinements – one of James McCloud, his father, another of Fara. Fox paused.
Rob informed him that the assailants were now a mile away. No time for hesitation, he told himself. He took off from the Great Fox and headed straight for them. A barrage of laser met him as he flew. Fox pulled off a few barrel rolls with ease, dodging the gunfire, then letting loose a volley of his own. Six bogies destroyed. He zoomed towards the remaining few, their formation broken and their nerves wrecked from Fox's daunting performance. Another merciless volley; two more down.
"Fox, bogey on your tail," Rob warned through the transmitter.
He looked towards the left – they were gone! Spinning his head wildly, he spotted them behind his Arwing. The space lit up with an eerie red, and his Arwing shook violently; he was shot on the wing.
Gritting his teeth, he did a complete flip and fired, blasting another two. The remaining two were on his tail, following closely. Suicide mode - Fox recognized, shit! He began to panic. Surely his Arwing would not sustain two suicidal blows from the bogies.
Just then, two steady beams tore through the hulls of the lightly armored bogies. They were reduced to space dust. Fox looked back. The laser cannons at the head of the Great Fox sizzled and smoked.
"Thanks Rob, nice one," Fox commended and let a sigh of relief. The robot chuckled monotonously.
Rob was his only ally out here. He smirked at that thought. Rob is weird and quirky, but Fox decide he had a lot of Slippy in him – appearing weak, frantic, and frail, but surprising the enemies at the appropriate moment. There was no time to think; Fox had some business to tend to. Now all that remained were the other "unidentified spacecrafts", three in total. They sat back and watched, as if overseeing the bogies that were no more. Fox calmly floated to a position in front of their triangular formation and sent a transmission.
"Sorry, but I'm not quite in the mood for more trouble. So, mind telling me who you work for?" he interrogated them in an intimidating manner, wild authority reeking from his voice. A long pause ensued.
"… We work for Starwolf," the one in lead finally stammered. The panel screen showed that they were reptilian, somewhat daunted by the elimination of their small squadron.
"Wrong answer," Fox snarled savagely, baring his teeth, then jerked the trigger violently.
A glowing blue globe zoomed towards the direction of the reptilian spacecrafts. A nauseating buzz was audible – a buzz that meant only one thing: Nova Bomb. It detonated in the middle of the triangular formation, sending explosive shockwaves in all directions. Fox flipped his Arwing and flew away to avoid the mass explosion and the debris that it sent forth.
Starwolf, Fox thought to himself, how ironic – his worst enemy establishing his own little empire on the fringes of Cornerian control, mustering Andross' remaining forces into his own command, and now he just happened to stumble into his territory. He shook off further thought. Clearly, he was being watched by them in some way, and that sickened him. He drifted back to the repair bay wearily before sinking deeper in thought.