Chapter Fourteen: "The Longest Night"
"--But after they broke ranks the second time we split them down the middle," Anilora explained. "The battle was short-lived after that."
Far from congratulating the Katinan captain on his easy victory at the combat zone, Celestra narrowed her eyes and set to tapping her nails lightly upon the table beside the couch on which she reclined. It was late, very late for either of them to be awake and having a conversation, but while the Star Fox mercenaries slept soundly after a difficult day the pair could not bring themselves to do the same. Celestra had insisted upon hearing the play-by-play of the battle, and the observant captain had seen all the details.
Anilora rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn before saying, "You believe the conflict was purposely one-sided?" "I don't know what to think," Celestra admitted, running a hand through her frazzled raven hair. "I had expectd that particular fight to last for many hours and yield no outright victor; little more than an hour passed and the force has fled to Titania as though their lord has ordered it." Her eyes strayed to a window and fell upon the metallic blue surface of Macbeth, and before she could stop it a sigh had passed her lips.
Violet eyes dull and tired, Anilora studied her carefully. After many silent seconds passed between them he whispered, "You think as I do. The battle was too short, too easily won. Andross is drawing us blindly into the outer reaches of his domain, an area that begins with Titania and Macbeth." He continued to study her, waiting to see how the name of her home planet might affect her, but he was not prepared for the words that followed.
"I have to go back there, Gilraen." She spoke in deep resignation, as though it were the last course she wished to take. "Andross knows we're on the move and swiftly closing ground; he's testing me now, trying to see how far I can go without losing myself."
Now Anilora leaned forward, concern etched into his intelligent, handsome features. Celestra gazed back at him unseeingly, eyes roving over the past, remembering events no seven-year-old girl should have to carry with them for twelve long years. Vaguely he remembered hearing of Macbeth's fall as a boy of eleven, of the tales that rose up shortly afterward to speak of a single northern child who had narrowly escaped. In his early days at General Pepper's side he remembered the man telling him that if Celestra had died that day it was likely that Andross's rise would have remained secret, and the Lylat System would have fallen to the Venomians in little time thereafter.
How could you reclaim the past after living through that?
He understood the situation, had not been surprised to learn of her rebellious behavior toward Star Fox at the start of the war. They did not comprehend the finer points or the grand scheme that was Celestra's life, could not hope in a thousand years to grasp even a thread of her unhappy existence. The mercenaries, like the rest of society, saw her only as a hero, a warrior, not a person. She could not shut our her past any more than he could see her through it, so she did the only thing she could: she hunted whomever she encountered who could possibly have a hand in the tragedy. Behind the whirling blades and steely blue eyes there was only bitter hatred; within every movement, every breath she took, there was only despair. Her entire life had led her down a path littered with loss to this moment, the day when she would be forced to return and face her past.
Anilora was a strong, resilient man, but the mere thought nearly broke him.
"I'll be right there with you--"
Celestra scoffed at him, as if to dismiss the notion, but on the inside it pained her to deny company in such a trying ordeal. "You can't help me, Gilraen. This past is mine to suffer; whether I succeed or falter I must do it alone."
"You should not shoulder this burden alone--"
"It will always be mine to bear!" she cut him off again, voice rising and full of emotion. "When Macbeth fell twelve years ago and demanded I escape and remember always the dying cries of my father, I did; when General Pepper demanded that I be his greatest killing machine in the name of good, I did; when Katina begged me to see you through to captaincy, I did; when all the galaxy cried out to me to place my sorrow in the back of my heart and protect them in their time of need, I did, Gilraen. And now, when all I can do is get up and struggle forward as I have always done, I will."
Anilora sighed and collapsed back into his chair, feeling more tired and haggard than he could ever remember feeling. He would never convince proud Celestra Marquette to allow him to aid her in this, perhaps her greatest adventure, because it had always been hers to accomplish. Voice soft, he said, "I would have followed you."
The assassin's eyes looked away from him, straying again to the surface of Macbeth. "No matter how desperately I want you to be there, I could never allow it. It will always be mine to bear."
~~*~~
No one was in a particularly good humor when General Pepper called upon the Great Fox the following afternoon, especially a very exhausted Celestra, who had found no sleep after Anilora left. They settled pell-mell about the briefing room, muttering words of thanks as ROB passed around various caffeinated soft drinks to each of them, and Pepper cleared his throat.
"Well," he began, and the five of them eyed him suspiciously when his voice came out nervous. "You're not going to be pleased when you hear this newest bit of information, but--Andross has constructed a mystery space base within Sector X Combat Zone."
Falco snorted into his Mountain Dew. "Where does this guy get all his spare time?" Everyone eyed him darkly, so he asked sheepishly, "What's the big mystery?"
A grid appeared beside Pepper's face, many of the outlined squares blinking red. "Two things, really. Firstly, the base randomly disappears upon occasion, warping to another location in the combat zone for a time before de-materializing again. Secondly, it's guarded by a third bio-weapon."
An annoyed silence settled over the room like fog.
"You've got to be joking," Fox stated dangerously.
"I quit," groaned Falco.
"Me too," put in Slippy.
"Find yourself another assassin, I can't take this ridiculous business," Celestra moaned, collapsing back against the couch.
"Now, really!" Pepper pleaded, eyes gleaming in such a way that his nerves clearly showed. "Up until this point what have you done?"
"Ran around like fools and got the crap kicked out of us," Falco snorted, preening his feathers apprehensively.
"No, no, no," Peppy corrected quietly, and everyone turned to look at him. "With the exception of our battles with Star Wolf and Reivin Frost, every mission has yielded us as the victors. Where our mercenary counterparts are concerned, we've seen only a stalemate."
"Doubtless they'll be lurking around every corner of this mystery base when we get there," Celestra scoffed, and the others hissed and rolled their eyes. "I'm all for it, General. I spoke with Gilraen last night; the Katinans rest on the eve of battle with Venomians filtering out of Bolse Defense Outpost. They make for Sector Z Combat Zone when the force is defeated, and I mean to help them fight their way through to the end--wherever it takes us."
Fox leaned forward, absently sipping from a Sierra Mist with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "What of your army? The Fortunan-Aquan alliance?"
"We are resting on Katina and will be en route to Macbeth in two days," Pepper answered, straightening one of the medals on his jacket meticulously. "The alliance has just left Aquas and will be laying in wait at Division Three of Zoness until I give them the signal to advance."
"And does the smaller fleet require an escort?" Slippy put in, now studying a myriad of numbers spiraling about the computer screen.
"At the moment, no. Venomian forces seem to be completely unaware of their movements; when the alliance advances behind enemy lines it is very possible they will continue to go unnoticed until we have them best positioned to strike."
"So does anyone have any objections to going on the hunt for this bio-weapon?" Fox asked his teammates. "Celestra, if you hope to rendezvous with the Katinans you really have no choice."
Celestra looked up, fiddling with a butterfly knife. "I've made my choice; I'll head through Sector X." She turned her cool eyes upon each of them in turn; none opposed the chosen course, and she at last turned her gaze to the general in universal acceptance.
"Excellent," barked Pepper. "I've spoken with Captain Anilora; he and his fleet await your safe arrival on the other side of the combat zone. Over and out."
~~*~~
Someone rapped lightly on his bedroom door; Falco started and looked up from an extensive search for his flight vest and shirt. Crossing the cluttered plane of carpet he tugged the door open, finding himself facing a rather awkward-looking Celestra, who was studying him sheepishly and fiddling with the zipper of her vest as she often did when something other than her job occupied her thoughts. He stepped back from the door to let her in, closing it behind her and feeling very self-conscious at his state of undress as his eyes darted to piles of strewn clothing.
Then she said, "I never should have compared you to Gilraen. At least, not so negatively."
Falco strode past her, purposely averting his gaze as he continued to search for his clothes. He meant to make her stew in her guilt for awhile, but found himself releasing a sigh that blew away these thoughts. "No; I'm sorry. You're completely right about Katt and me; we're over and I should have let her know it. I . . . don't know why I didn't." Forcing a smile and fishing for a fresh attempt at conversation he said, "You ready to tackle this bio-weapon thing?"
"I'm scared, Falco."
The words she spoke terrified him and he turned to face her from his kneeling position on the floor; she was sitting cross-legged on his bed and wearing the most awful expression of sick fear on her pale yet beautiful face. He rose, frowning, and crossed the room to sit next to her, but she did not move or look up, eyes still melded to something intangible that he could not see or understand. He draped a bare wing across her slender shoulders, wishing with all his heart that he could comprehend her past, feeling worse all the while for being so utterly useless in her time of greatest weakness. At last she looked up at him, enveloping him with her glacial eyes, and he at last realized: she was resting on the return to the pinnacle of her years of torment.
"How do I go back?" she asked. Falco opened his beak to stumble through an answer before shaking his head in realization that the question was rhetorical. "I've spent twelve years in constant struggle to forget the life I lost; how do I go back now to reclaim and defeat it? Where do I start?"
"I . . . " Falco let whatever words were coming to die upon his tongue, knowing nothing he said would help the situation anyway. She scooted closer and rested her head in the place where his shoulder joined neck, and he pressed a light kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her waist. For many minutes the pair sat thus, contemplating the many ends to the many situations laid before them, until at last Celestra stirred and looked up at him, anxiety and doubt shining within her eyes. It was then that the taller avian leaned down and gingerly pressed his lips to hers.
At first the assassin was frozen to the act, aware only that her lips had been claimed and she didn't know what to do in such a situation. Then she felt the slight edge of panic grow in Falco's face and his touch when she failed to react; just as he moved to part himself from her she cupped his face in her hands and deepened the kiss, successfully converting her natural intensity for life into a passion that made Falco pleasantly dizzy. His hands fumbled along her back, brushing over the scar that ran wickedly from shoulderblade to shoulderblade where Reivin Frost had portrayed his voracity; a shiver ran down Celestra's spine, and she came forward, hands roaming over his chest, magnifying the sense of desire.
Slowly the pair toppled over onto the poorly-made bed, never breaking the heated kiss as their bodies came together in a needy embrace. Falco's head rested uncomfortably on a misshapen lump beneath the covers; Celestra's left hand, holding his head steady through the intense kiss, felt it too and groped for it. The kiss ceased with exhilerated panting that ended in shaky laughter on both ends when they recognized the lump to be Falco's missing shirt.
"Slob," the assassin teased, sitting up and tightening her ponytail with a smirk.
"You should talk," the avian protested, pulling the garment on over his head and sprawling lazily again. "If something's not perfect you practically have an aneurysm."
Celestra rose and crossed to the door. "If only we weren't starting our next mission right now . . . "
A chuckle escaped Falco's beak; the assassin's smirk widened, and she exited.
~~*~~
"So are we just running straight through?"
Celestra's Arwing sped past those of the mercenaries', eyes glittering with excitement for the adventure ahead. Nothing came easy in her life, and she now considered the act of fighting her way blindly through a dangerous combat zone well worth a few enormous hugs from Anilora and Bill, who were waiting anxiously on the other side. "I am."
"Celest, get back here!" Fox cried in exasperation. "We need to figure out just how we're going to do this!"
"Okay, here's the plan--we cut through hard and fast and shoot anything that opposes us," the assassin replied snappishly. "Nobody ever said anything about doing this one cleanly--the sooner we get to the Katinans, the sooner we can advance."
"I'm with her," Falco admitted with a shrug of acceptance, and MeteoRiot soared after Rage of Macbeth. Slippy followed with barely a thought for his limitless trust in the woman; Peppy and Fox exchanged glances in the G-Diffuser screen. At last Fox heaved a sigh and fired his engines, and the older hare quickly fell in behind his commander.
Celestra veered a bit more to the north, following the transmitter signal that Anilora's cruiser Whitewater was emitting for them. "All figured we don't have the time to go looking for some weird base that warps of its own volition; I'm running on the assumption that if we don't find it, it's not important enough to be found. Andross's newest bio-weapon will most likely be hot on our tails, so we'll have to fight our way past it. I've got work to do, Fox--if you want to sit around and work through the finer points, you'll be doing it without me."
"You're probably right," Fox grumbled, and then he smiled. "My team listens to you more than they listen to me anyway."
"I've never once led them astray," Celestra reminded, and the four mercenaries formed a V-formation behind her craft. "Let's go! This is the first time I haven't been able to see where I'm going, and I don't like it."
~~*~~
Even as the five melted into the eerie blue-green fumes of the combat zone, another group of five Venomian craft glided level with the unsuspecting Great Fox. Reivin Frost slowed his ship to a steady hover; the four Star Wolf mercenaries followed suit. The assassin's malevolent green eyes glimmered hungrily as he stared after his quarry, for their adversaries were completely unaware of their stealthy pursuit.
"Shall we attack their cruiser?" asked Wolf, warming his lasers.
Reivin considered this for a moment, then shook his head forcefully. "We risk losing them in the combat zone, and I am well aware that they go to join the Katinans on the opposite end. If that occurs it will be difficult to attack them with surprise on our side; Bill will not drop his guard again now that he knows I pursue Celestra and not him." Here he glanced over at Leon, who alone among them seemed at ease, even bored, with the proceedings. "Similarly the Katinan captain will be heavily guarded. We must shoot them down now or they will undoubtedly cross into Andross's domain."
"Agreed," sneered Pigma, rubbing his pudgy hands together gleefully. "Let's take them out!"
The assassin fired his engines; his four colleagues did the same, sharing his ultimate goal.
Celestra Marquette would not walk away this day.
~~*~~
Their thrusters at maximum they tore through the mysterious planes of interstellar wasteland, Celestra always leading, eyes fixed ever forward in the hope that soon they would see the full, magnificent Katinan fleet. A sense of apprehension and urgency hung about the lot of them, as though an icy finger of doom were stretching toward them. Still they flew onward and, to make the entire predicament slightly worse, remained unopposed.
For many hours it continued thus, a desparate run through the hostile core of this empty and ominous place, and when the other end of Sector X at last came into view they allowed themselves to believe they would pass through unchecked and unchallenged. Peppy, bringing up the rear, saw it first.
"Right flank!" he cried in warning, and the assassin and mercenaries collectively dove left. Something clipped Falco from behind and his ship spun from the impact, reeling end-over-end until the avian could re-orient himself. All had scattered with Peppy's shout; now they stared, aghast, at their offender.
It greatly resembled a disproportioned robot, for its arms were unnaturally long and skinny, its head far too small for the rest of its body, and, strangest of all, it seemed to have been severed cleanly at the waist as it lacked legs altogether. Its mechanical parts moved fluidly and without any creaks or whines of protest; its eyes flickered upon each of them in turn, and the hope left their bodies with a wave of despair.
"The bio-weapon!" Slippy shrieked, but the robot's next move blocked out his screams; with a wave of one of its massive appendages the robot forced the companions into a solely defensive posture. Celestra became cut off from the mercenaries when the machine swung again in a curving arc, driving her further north and them back the way they had come. From somewhere behind her Falco screamed; laser fire erupted from the four mercenary craft, and Celestra seemed paralyzed with indecision.
Quite suddenly the assassin fell prey to the instincts she had lived by in her time before meeting Star Fox. It would be so simple to leave them to this fate and join the Katinans; they could did for the greater good of Lylat and she could go on, uninhibited by the further cripplings of friendship. After all, why should she sacrifice herself on their behalf?
A horrifying crash resonated through the thick, musty air; Falco screamed again, and Celestra shook the poisonous thoughts away and sped back into the fray. No one had time to warn her that Star Wolf was launching a full-scale offensive against them, Reivin Frost at its head.
"Still alive?" Reivin taunted icily, breaking from the larger battle to clash with his adversary.
"You'll never be rid of me," Celestra shot back, and their paths crossed in the blackness of space, twining intricately about one another in a perfect display of dark grace.
The goodly forces began losing badly, the mere knowledge of their goal lingering so near disheartening them more with each blow they took. Gradually the Star Fox members lost all heart for the fiht, all but being killed outright by their bitter rivals who did not seem worn at all from their restless pursuit. Only Celestra continued to oppose with utmost fervor, the almost suicidal glitter within the depths of her icy eyes conveying that fact easily.
The bio-weapon was ravaging any plans Fox had made for his team to regroup; it attacked sparratically with its enormous arms, shattering their ranks any time they began to re-assemble. Falco was catching the brunt of the attacks, for every time he turned to escape the robot there was Leon Powalski blocking his retreat, and when he made to ensure Celestra's safety he ws swatted mercilessly with unearthly force.
The female assassin heard all of their cries deep in her heart, and it pained her when she became aware that here, staring down her greatest enemy and separated by an enormous robot, she could not help them. Angry and frustrated she fled from Reivin, unable to bear Falco's terrified shrieks of agony any longer. She weaved right in between Peppy and Pigma, completely ignored the few shots Wolf took as she shot ast, the final throes of a last desperate sprint to rescue her lover.
Seemingly as one entity they glanced up as Celestra sped past the bio-weapon, and as she matched and overcame it the thing reached out and struck with a powerful backhand. A sickening crunch wafted up from the collision; when Rage of Macbeth again became visible it seemed a crumpled mass of metal. Again the robot lashed out, this time snapping the left wing clean off the mangled Arwing, and as it flew spinning into empty space the creature snatched up Celestra's craft in its fist and hurled it away in the direction of Titania.
Falco's eyes were wide with shock as the once beautiful spaceship carreened limply away from him. Celestra's shrieks of intense pain rang within his sensitive ears; he could see her petrified face in the G-Diffuser screen as she fell, and then her ship shut down and he was and heard nothing thereafter. Something burned at the backs of his dark, expressionless eyes, something he could never place in a thousand years, and then the craft had drifted helplessly out of sight.
"Fall back," came Reivin's emotionless voice, and as swiftly as the five had descended into the merciless bloodbath they had disappeared back into the swirling mists. "Our work is finished here, and Andross will be pleased."
"CELESTRA!!!" cried Slippy, and his craft shot from the ranks, forgetting about the weapon in his unplaceable despair.
"No, Slippy!" Fox shouted forcefully. "We've got to complete our rendezvous; if we don't the entire advance may fall apart! They'll come looking for us if they think something's happened, or they'll be seen and attacked, or--"
"Something has happened, damn it!" the youngest mercenary spat acidly. "Celestra fell! We can't just abandon her!"
"I don't like it any more than you do, Slip," Peppy inserted quietly, and it pained him to say such things about the woman who was something of an adopted daughter to him. "But Fox is right; we must meet with Captain Anilora or we may lose the upper hand."
Slippy was crying now, great sobs shaking his shoulders, and he was a sad sight to their eyes. "We can't . . ."
"She would be forced to do the same were she in our position," Fox sighed, booting up his craft's main thrusters, bio-weapon far behind them. "Let's go, Falco."
The avian couldn't bring himself to refuse, could barely even draw breath as he stared hypnotically at distant Titania. Had Celestra managed to crash there? Was she even alive? Or had her death already come upon swift wings as Rage of Macbeth spiraled through blackness?
They started off, slowly now, hearts empty and heavy in one, made incomprehensible with loss. Slippy sobbed pathetically for the remainder of the hour and a half long journey, eventually triggering the full weight of the tragedy within each of their hearts in turn until at last they shared an ocean of helpless tears.
Any man with the slightest knowledge of military excellence would have been stricken with the sheer power the Katinan fleet exuded; many of the strongest men in the galaxy would have trembled at the mere sight of Captain Anilora's grand flagship Whitewater and all its underlings gathered about in a display of godlike majesty. But the minds and hearts of all fours were far behind, fixated forever upon the single mutilated craft falling forever into nothingness, captivated by a blanket of ebony hair framing a pair of pale blue eyes that would haunt their darkest dreams.
"--But after they broke ranks the second time we split them down the middle," Anilora explained. "The battle was short-lived after that."
Far from congratulating the Katinan captain on his easy victory at the combat zone, Celestra narrowed her eyes and set to tapping her nails lightly upon the table beside the couch on which she reclined. It was late, very late for either of them to be awake and having a conversation, but while the Star Fox mercenaries slept soundly after a difficult day the pair could not bring themselves to do the same. Celestra had insisted upon hearing the play-by-play of the battle, and the observant captain had seen all the details.
Anilora rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn before saying, "You believe the conflict was purposely one-sided?" "I don't know what to think," Celestra admitted, running a hand through her frazzled raven hair. "I had expectd that particular fight to last for many hours and yield no outright victor; little more than an hour passed and the force has fled to Titania as though their lord has ordered it." Her eyes strayed to a window and fell upon the metallic blue surface of Macbeth, and before she could stop it a sigh had passed her lips.
Violet eyes dull and tired, Anilora studied her carefully. After many silent seconds passed between them he whispered, "You think as I do. The battle was too short, too easily won. Andross is drawing us blindly into the outer reaches of his domain, an area that begins with Titania and Macbeth." He continued to study her, waiting to see how the name of her home planet might affect her, but he was not prepared for the words that followed.
"I have to go back there, Gilraen." She spoke in deep resignation, as though it were the last course she wished to take. "Andross knows we're on the move and swiftly closing ground; he's testing me now, trying to see how far I can go without losing myself."
Now Anilora leaned forward, concern etched into his intelligent, handsome features. Celestra gazed back at him unseeingly, eyes roving over the past, remembering events no seven-year-old girl should have to carry with them for twelve long years. Vaguely he remembered hearing of Macbeth's fall as a boy of eleven, of the tales that rose up shortly afterward to speak of a single northern child who had narrowly escaped. In his early days at General Pepper's side he remembered the man telling him that if Celestra had died that day it was likely that Andross's rise would have remained secret, and the Lylat System would have fallen to the Venomians in little time thereafter.
How could you reclaim the past after living through that?
He understood the situation, had not been surprised to learn of her rebellious behavior toward Star Fox at the start of the war. They did not comprehend the finer points or the grand scheme that was Celestra's life, could not hope in a thousand years to grasp even a thread of her unhappy existence. The mercenaries, like the rest of society, saw her only as a hero, a warrior, not a person. She could not shut our her past any more than he could see her through it, so she did the only thing she could: she hunted whomever she encountered who could possibly have a hand in the tragedy. Behind the whirling blades and steely blue eyes there was only bitter hatred; within every movement, every breath she took, there was only despair. Her entire life had led her down a path littered with loss to this moment, the day when she would be forced to return and face her past.
Anilora was a strong, resilient man, but the mere thought nearly broke him.
"I'll be right there with you--"
Celestra scoffed at him, as if to dismiss the notion, but on the inside it pained her to deny company in such a trying ordeal. "You can't help me, Gilraen. This past is mine to suffer; whether I succeed or falter I must do it alone."
"You should not shoulder this burden alone--"
"It will always be mine to bear!" she cut him off again, voice rising and full of emotion. "When Macbeth fell twelve years ago and demanded I escape and remember always the dying cries of my father, I did; when General Pepper demanded that I be his greatest killing machine in the name of good, I did; when Katina begged me to see you through to captaincy, I did; when all the galaxy cried out to me to place my sorrow in the back of my heart and protect them in their time of need, I did, Gilraen. And now, when all I can do is get up and struggle forward as I have always done, I will."
Anilora sighed and collapsed back into his chair, feeling more tired and haggard than he could ever remember feeling. He would never convince proud Celestra Marquette to allow him to aid her in this, perhaps her greatest adventure, because it had always been hers to accomplish. Voice soft, he said, "I would have followed you."
The assassin's eyes looked away from him, straying again to the surface of Macbeth. "No matter how desperately I want you to be there, I could never allow it. It will always be mine to bear."
~~*~~
No one was in a particularly good humor when General Pepper called upon the Great Fox the following afternoon, especially a very exhausted Celestra, who had found no sleep after Anilora left. They settled pell-mell about the briefing room, muttering words of thanks as ROB passed around various caffeinated soft drinks to each of them, and Pepper cleared his throat.
"Well," he began, and the five of them eyed him suspiciously when his voice came out nervous. "You're not going to be pleased when you hear this newest bit of information, but--Andross has constructed a mystery space base within Sector X Combat Zone."
Falco snorted into his Mountain Dew. "Where does this guy get all his spare time?" Everyone eyed him darkly, so he asked sheepishly, "What's the big mystery?"
A grid appeared beside Pepper's face, many of the outlined squares blinking red. "Two things, really. Firstly, the base randomly disappears upon occasion, warping to another location in the combat zone for a time before de-materializing again. Secondly, it's guarded by a third bio-weapon."
An annoyed silence settled over the room like fog.
"You've got to be joking," Fox stated dangerously.
"I quit," groaned Falco.
"Me too," put in Slippy.
"Find yourself another assassin, I can't take this ridiculous business," Celestra moaned, collapsing back against the couch.
"Now, really!" Pepper pleaded, eyes gleaming in such a way that his nerves clearly showed. "Up until this point what have you done?"
"Ran around like fools and got the crap kicked out of us," Falco snorted, preening his feathers apprehensively.
"No, no, no," Peppy corrected quietly, and everyone turned to look at him. "With the exception of our battles with Star Wolf and Reivin Frost, every mission has yielded us as the victors. Where our mercenary counterparts are concerned, we've seen only a stalemate."
"Doubtless they'll be lurking around every corner of this mystery base when we get there," Celestra scoffed, and the others hissed and rolled their eyes. "I'm all for it, General. I spoke with Gilraen last night; the Katinans rest on the eve of battle with Venomians filtering out of Bolse Defense Outpost. They make for Sector Z Combat Zone when the force is defeated, and I mean to help them fight their way through to the end--wherever it takes us."
Fox leaned forward, absently sipping from a Sierra Mist with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "What of your army? The Fortunan-Aquan alliance?"
"We are resting on Katina and will be en route to Macbeth in two days," Pepper answered, straightening one of the medals on his jacket meticulously. "The alliance has just left Aquas and will be laying in wait at Division Three of Zoness until I give them the signal to advance."
"And does the smaller fleet require an escort?" Slippy put in, now studying a myriad of numbers spiraling about the computer screen.
"At the moment, no. Venomian forces seem to be completely unaware of their movements; when the alliance advances behind enemy lines it is very possible they will continue to go unnoticed until we have them best positioned to strike."
"So does anyone have any objections to going on the hunt for this bio-weapon?" Fox asked his teammates. "Celestra, if you hope to rendezvous with the Katinans you really have no choice."
Celestra looked up, fiddling with a butterfly knife. "I've made my choice; I'll head through Sector X." She turned her cool eyes upon each of them in turn; none opposed the chosen course, and she at last turned her gaze to the general in universal acceptance.
"Excellent," barked Pepper. "I've spoken with Captain Anilora; he and his fleet await your safe arrival on the other side of the combat zone. Over and out."
~~*~~
Someone rapped lightly on his bedroom door; Falco started and looked up from an extensive search for his flight vest and shirt. Crossing the cluttered plane of carpet he tugged the door open, finding himself facing a rather awkward-looking Celestra, who was studying him sheepishly and fiddling with the zipper of her vest as she often did when something other than her job occupied her thoughts. He stepped back from the door to let her in, closing it behind her and feeling very self-conscious at his state of undress as his eyes darted to piles of strewn clothing.
Then she said, "I never should have compared you to Gilraen. At least, not so negatively."
Falco strode past her, purposely averting his gaze as he continued to search for his clothes. He meant to make her stew in her guilt for awhile, but found himself releasing a sigh that blew away these thoughts. "No; I'm sorry. You're completely right about Katt and me; we're over and I should have let her know it. I . . . don't know why I didn't." Forcing a smile and fishing for a fresh attempt at conversation he said, "You ready to tackle this bio-weapon thing?"
"I'm scared, Falco."
The words she spoke terrified him and he turned to face her from his kneeling position on the floor; she was sitting cross-legged on his bed and wearing the most awful expression of sick fear on her pale yet beautiful face. He rose, frowning, and crossed the room to sit next to her, but she did not move or look up, eyes still melded to something intangible that he could not see or understand. He draped a bare wing across her slender shoulders, wishing with all his heart that he could comprehend her past, feeling worse all the while for being so utterly useless in her time of greatest weakness. At last she looked up at him, enveloping him with her glacial eyes, and he at last realized: she was resting on the return to the pinnacle of her years of torment.
"How do I go back?" she asked. Falco opened his beak to stumble through an answer before shaking his head in realization that the question was rhetorical. "I've spent twelve years in constant struggle to forget the life I lost; how do I go back now to reclaim and defeat it? Where do I start?"
"I . . . " Falco let whatever words were coming to die upon his tongue, knowing nothing he said would help the situation anyway. She scooted closer and rested her head in the place where his shoulder joined neck, and he pressed a light kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her waist. For many minutes the pair sat thus, contemplating the many ends to the many situations laid before them, until at last Celestra stirred and looked up at him, anxiety and doubt shining within her eyes. It was then that the taller avian leaned down and gingerly pressed his lips to hers.
At first the assassin was frozen to the act, aware only that her lips had been claimed and she didn't know what to do in such a situation. Then she felt the slight edge of panic grow in Falco's face and his touch when she failed to react; just as he moved to part himself from her she cupped his face in her hands and deepened the kiss, successfully converting her natural intensity for life into a passion that made Falco pleasantly dizzy. His hands fumbled along her back, brushing over the scar that ran wickedly from shoulderblade to shoulderblade where Reivin Frost had portrayed his voracity; a shiver ran down Celestra's spine, and she came forward, hands roaming over his chest, magnifying the sense of desire.
Slowly the pair toppled over onto the poorly-made bed, never breaking the heated kiss as their bodies came together in a needy embrace. Falco's head rested uncomfortably on a misshapen lump beneath the covers; Celestra's left hand, holding his head steady through the intense kiss, felt it too and groped for it. The kiss ceased with exhilerated panting that ended in shaky laughter on both ends when they recognized the lump to be Falco's missing shirt.
"Slob," the assassin teased, sitting up and tightening her ponytail with a smirk.
"You should talk," the avian protested, pulling the garment on over his head and sprawling lazily again. "If something's not perfect you practically have an aneurysm."
Celestra rose and crossed to the door. "If only we weren't starting our next mission right now . . . "
A chuckle escaped Falco's beak; the assassin's smirk widened, and she exited.
~~*~~
"So are we just running straight through?"
Celestra's Arwing sped past those of the mercenaries', eyes glittering with excitement for the adventure ahead. Nothing came easy in her life, and she now considered the act of fighting her way blindly through a dangerous combat zone well worth a few enormous hugs from Anilora and Bill, who were waiting anxiously on the other side. "I am."
"Celest, get back here!" Fox cried in exasperation. "We need to figure out just how we're going to do this!"
"Okay, here's the plan--we cut through hard and fast and shoot anything that opposes us," the assassin replied snappishly. "Nobody ever said anything about doing this one cleanly--the sooner we get to the Katinans, the sooner we can advance."
"I'm with her," Falco admitted with a shrug of acceptance, and MeteoRiot soared after Rage of Macbeth. Slippy followed with barely a thought for his limitless trust in the woman; Peppy and Fox exchanged glances in the G-Diffuser screen. At last Fox heaved a sigh and fired his engines, and the older hare quickly fell in behind his commander.
Celestra veered a bit more to the north, following the transmitter signal that Anilora's cruiser Whitewater was emitting for them. "All figured we don't have the time to go looking for some weird base that warps of its own volition; I'm running on the assumption that if we don't find it, it's not important enough to be found. Andross's newest bio-weapon will most likely be hot on our tails, so we'll have to fight our way past it. I've got work to do, Fox--if you want to sit around and work through the finer points, you'll be doing it without me."
"You're probably right," Fox grumbled, and then he smiled. "My team listens to you more than they listen to me anyway."
"I've never once led them astray," Celestra reminded, and the four mercenaries formed a V-formation behind her craft. "Let's go! This is the first time I haven't been able to see where I'm going, and I don't like it."
~~*~~
Even as the five melted into the eerie blue-green fumes of the combat zone, another group of five Venomian craft glided level with the unsuspecting Great Fox. Reivin Frost slowed his ship to a steady hover; the four Star Wolf mercenaries followed suit. The assassin's malevolent green eyes glimmered hungrily as he stared after his quarry, for their adversaries were completely unaware of their stealthy pursuit.
"Shall we attack their cruiser?" asked Wolf, warming his lasers.
Reivin considered this for a moment, then shook his head forcefully. "We risk losing them in the combat zone, and I am well aware that they go to join the Katinans on the opposite end. If that occurs it will be difficult to attack them with surprise on our side; Bill will not drop his guard again now that he knows I pursue Celestra and not him." Here he glanced over at Leon, who alone among them seemed at ease, even bored, with the proceedings. "Similarly the Katinan captain will be heavily guarded. We must shoot them down now or they will undoubtedly cross into Andross's domain."
"Agreed," sneered Pigma, rubbing his pudgy hands together gleefully. "Let's take them out!"
The assassin fired his engines; his four colleagues did the same, sharing his ultimate goal.
Celestra Marquette would not walk away this day.
~~*~~
Their thrusters at maximum they tore through the mysterious planes of interstellar wasteland, Celestra always leading, eyes fixed ever forward in the hope that soon they would see the full, magnificent Katinan fleet. A sense of apprehension and urgency hung about the lot of them, as though an icy finger of doom were stretching toward them. Still they flew onward and, to make the entire predicament slightly worse, remained unopposed.
For many hours it continued thus, a desparate run through the hostile core of this empty and ominous place, and when the other end of Sector X at last came into view they allowed themselves to believe they would pass through unchecked and unchallenged. Peppy, bringing up the rear, saw it first.
"Right flank!" he cried in warning, and the assassin and mercenaries collectively dove left. Something clipped Falco from behind and his ship spun from the impact, reeling end-over-end until the avian could re-orient himself. All had scattered with Peppy's shout; now they stared, aghast, at their offender.
It greatly resembled a disproportioned robot, for its arms were unnaturally long and skinny, its head far too small for the rest of its body, and, strangest of all, it seemed to have been severed cleanly at the waist as it lacked legs altogether. Its mechanical parts moved fluidly and without any creaks or whines of protest; its eyes flickered upon each of them in turn, and the hope left their bodies with a wave of despair.
"The bio-weapon!" Slippy shrieked, but the robot's next move blocked out his screams; with a wave of one of its massive appendages the robot forced the companions into a solely defensive posture. Celestra became cut off from the mercenaries when the machine swung again in a curving arc, driving her further north and them back the way they had come. From somewhere behind her Falco screamed; laser fire erupted from the four mercenary craft, and Celestra seemed paralyzed with indecision.
Quite suddenly the assassin fell prey to the instincts she had lived by in her time before meeting Star Fox. It would be so simple to leave them to this fate and join the Katinans; they could did for the greater good of Lylat and she could go on, uninhibited by the further cripplings of friendship. After all, why should she sacrifice herself on their behalf?
A horrifying crash resonated through the thick, musty air; Falco screamed again, and Celestra shook the poisonous thoughts away and sped back into the fray. No one had time to warn her that Star Wolf was launching a full-scale offensive against them, Reivin Frost at its head.
"Still alive?" Reivin taunted icily, breaking from the larger battle to clash with his adversary.
"You'll never be rid of me," Celestra shot back, and their paths crossed in the blackness of space, twining intricately about one another in a perfect display of dark grace.
The goodly forces began losing badly, the mere knowledge of their goal lingering so near disheartening them more with each blow they took. Gradually the Star Fox members lost all heart for the fiht, all but being killed outright by their bitter rivals who did not seem worn at all from their restless pursuit. Only Celestra continued to oppose with utmost fervor, the almost suicidal glitter within the depths of her icy eyes conveying that fact easily.
The bio-weapon was ravaging any plans Fox had made for his team to regroup; it attacked sparratically with its enormous arms, shattering their ranks any time they began to re-assemble. Falco was catching the brunt of the attacks, for every time he turned to escape the robot there was Leon Powalski blocking his retreat, and when he made to ensure Celestra's safety he ws swatted mercilessly with unearthly force.
The female assassin heard all of their cries deep in her heart, and it pained her when she became aware that here, staring down her greatest enemy and separated by an enormous robot, she could not help them. Angry and frustrated she fled from Reivin, unable to bear Falco's terrified shrieks of agony any longer. She weaved right in between Peppy and Pigma, completely ignored the few shots Wolf took as she shot ast, the final throes of a last desperate sprint to rescue her lover.
Seemingly as one entity they glanced up as Celestra sped past the bio-weapon, and as she matched and overcame it the thing reached out and struck with a powerful backhand. A sickening crunch wafted up from the collision; when Rage of Macbeth again became visible it seemed a crumpled mass of metal. Again the robot lashed out, this time snapping the left wing clean off the mangled Arwing, and as it flew spinning into empty space the creature snatched up Celestra's craft in its fist and hurled it away in the direction of Titania.
Falco's eyes were wide with shock as the once beautiful spaceship carreened limply away from him. Celestra's shrieks of intense pain rang within his sensitive ears; he could see her petrified face in the G-Diffuser screen as she fell, and then her ship shut down and he was and heard nothing thereafter. Something burned at the backs of his dark, expressionless eyes, something he could never place in a thousand years, and then the craft had drifted helplessly out of sight.
"Fall back," came Reivin's emotionless voice, and as swiftly as the five had descended into the merciless bloodbath they had disappeared back into the swirling mists. "Our work is finished here, and Andross will be pleased."
"CELESTRA!!!" cried Slippy, and his craft shot from the ranks, forgetting about the weapon in his unplaceable despair.
"No, Slippy!" Fox shouted forcefully. "We've got to complete our rendezvous; if we don't the entire advance may fall apart! They'll come looking for us if they think something's happened, or they'll be seen and attacked, or--"
"Something has happened, damn it!" the youngest mercenary spat acidly. "Celestra fell! We can't just abandon her!"
"I don't like it any more than you do, Slip," Peppy inserted quietly, and it pained him to say such things about the woman who was something of an adopted daughter to him. "But Fox is right; we must meet with Captain Anilora or we may lose the upper hand."
Slippy was crying now, great sobs shaking his shoulders, and he was a sad sight to their eyes. "We can't . . ."
"She would be forced to do the same were she in our position," Fox sighed, booting up his craft's main thrusters, bio-weapon far behind them. "Let's go, Falco."
The avian couldn't bring himself to refuse, could barely even draw breath as he stared hypnotically at distant Titania. Had Celestra managed to crash there? Was she even alive? Or had her death already come upon swift wings as Rage of Macbeth spiraled through blackness?
They started off, slowly now, hearts empty and heavy in one, made incomprehensible with loss. Slippy sobbed pathetically for the remainder of the hour and a half long journey, eventually triggering the full weight of the tragedy within each of their hearts in turn until at last they shared an ocean of helpless tears.
Any man with the slightest knowledge of military excellence would have been stricken with the sheer power the Katinan fleet exuded; many of the strongest men in the galaxy would have trembled at the mere sight of Captain Anilora's grand flagship Whitewater and all its underlings gathered about in a display of godlike majesty. But the minds and hearts of all fours were far behind, fixated forever upon the single mutilated craft falling forever into nothingness, captivated by a blanket of ebony hair framing a pair of pale blue eyes that would haunt their darkest dreams.