Chapter Nineteen: "The Satellite"
"Excuse me, sir--you have a call."
General Pepper glanced up from Keil Ford's crude sketch of Bolse Defense Outpost, red marker in hand. His personal secretary was standing straight-backed in the doorway, arms stiff at his sides, chest puffed out like a true soldier. Slippy and Keil exchanged a bemused grin before turning their backs to chuckle silently; Fox, lounging comfortably with his feet up on the desk before him, resisted the urge to deflate the informant by poking him in the stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he or any of his team had addressed their employer so formally.
"We've important business to discuss," Pepper said, turning away with a negligent wave. "Get a transmission number and I'll get in touch with them later."
The secretary cleared his throat quietly. "Please, sir--it's Captain Anilora."
The touch of lightheartedness within the room was instantly suffocated away; with a hurried "Excuse me", General Pepper exited the room.
As soon as the Cornerian officer was out of sight Keil and Slippy wheeled their chairs to the helm. "Can you patch us in?" pressed the youngest mercenary.
The coyote plunked a hefty pair of headphones over his ears and began typing. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch, kid, we'll catch up to them."
"Hold up--what are you guys doing?" Fox asked suspiciously.
By now Slippy had also donned enormous audio gear and was interestedly watching Keil's progress. "We're listening in on his conference call."
"You can't do that!" Fox shrieked, jumping to his feet and looking as though he was prepared to intervene. "If they detect you--"
Keil interrupted with a snort that clearly suggested he though Fox was acting ludicrous. "Obviously you've forgotten who it is you're talking to, chum. There isn't a computer whiz south of Macbeth who could top me and Slip here. We've been eavesdropping on all the important stuff since the split six days ago. Besides, I outrank you."
Fox's jaw dropped incredulously. "You--you do not!" he stammered defensively. "I'm the leader of the most renown mercenary squad in all of Lylat!"
"Yeah, that's great, kid. And I'm the number one guy at Arspace Division Three." Keil never lifted his gaze to meet the vulpine's, merely continued typing evenly and studying cryptic encoding. "You rank below General Pepper, Captain Anilora, and the five heads of the five Arspace Divisions. Sorry."
"So relax," Slippy added, offering his commander a set of headphones. Reluctantly Fox clamped them on, and a few seconds later the static cleared and became calm.
They heard Pepper speak first. "Everything alright, Gilraen?"
"I'm afraid not, General. Only a few hours ago we were ambushed within Sector Z by a large force led by Reivin Frost."
"What?!"
"We can only raise speculations as to how they maneuvered to attack us from behind, but thus far our strongest theory is that they created a rift in space; with it they could easily warp to our locate with little difficulty at all." The three eavesdroppers could tell by Anilora's voice alone that he had barely slept in several days. "Also, Sensenic Morray discovered a tracking device upon my personal cruiser that was relaying a constant signal to Venomain correspondents, and he has hypothesized it was planted by Seersus before the assassination attempt on Celestra."
Pepper blew a long sigh of unnerved disbelief. "Unbelievable--the device has been destroyed?"
"Yes, and every ship has been scanned for additional tracers. None exist, so the Venomians will no longer be able to keep tabs on our progress."
"Did the fleet survive the assault?" Pepper asked, sounding anxious.
It was a long while before Anilora could answer. "Four hundred and fifty men are dead or unaccounted for."
Fox gasped and Slippy slapped his hands over his mouth; Keil motioned for them to be quiet as Pepper shrieked, "That's nearly one-third of your fleet!"
"Regardless, the advance will continue in two days' time," Anilora said firmly.
"Gilraen, you're leading one thousand men into a massacre," Pepper insisted gravely. "While I did leave you in charge of that leg of the operation, I must beg you to reconsider your course."
"I know you would have me withdraw, but I just cannot bring myself to order my good, honorable men to surrender and flee," said Anilora sadly. "They have worked hard to earn this chance when we may at last strike directly at Andross, and I will not be the one who takes it away. Perhaps we will be slaughtered, but we will take a good deal of them down with us."
Pepper made to respond but a great deal of static interfeared; Anilora had terminated the transmission.
"Things are getting pretty unstable," Slippy remarked as he and Keil rushed about to hide the audio gear. "Reivin Frost must be getting desperate if he's launching ambushes."
"A sure sign that Andross must be feeling edgy," Keil answered thoughtfully. "Still, Anilora's either really brave or really crazy if he's going to lead one thousand alone into Area 6. General's right--it'll be a massacre."
"Not if we can help it," Slippy put in mischieviously, and Keil returned the expression. Fox found himself wondering just what the pair had in store.
"So you haven't the slightest clue what they're up to?" Katt asked Fox incredilously, ceasing the constant tapping of her fingernails to fix the mercenary leader with a mildly surprised expression.
"That's right," Fox admitted, pacing thoughtfully about Katt's room and feeling very overwhelmed by the color of lurid pink. "Slippy just laughs when I ask him, and all I could get out of Keil is some vague remark about how I should find someone to replace Slippy's spot in the frontal squad. However, it is plain that the two of them will be off on their own while we fight over the satellite, and that's why I'm here." The vulpine sat down on the edge of the bed beside Katt. "If we're outnumbered against Star Wolf, things could go bad for the whole advance. So I'm asking you to take up Slippy's place in the mercenary squad and fight against Andrew Oikinney, Andross's nephew."
Katt gazed coyly at Fox from beneath long lashes, then let out a low, beguiling laugh. "You're too cute, you know. "I'll give you boys a hand, but--you'll owe me."
It wasn't difficult for Fox to guess how she wanted to be repaid; a knock sounded on the feline's door just then, thankfully, saving the mercenary leader from any lewd scenarios. Pouting slightly Katt answered the door, but her visage changed to one of languid delight when Falco entered. "What's up?"
"Not much." Katt settled back against the pillows, purring contentedly. "Looks like I'm with you from now on."
"I figured that's why Fox was here," Falco confirmed, sprawling out on the rug at the foot of Katt's bed. "By the way, did you guys hear about the Katinans?"
Fox nodded, crossing his arms as he silently recalled the conversation. "Keil and Slippy tapped in; I was there. Can you imagine? Four hundred and fifty of Anilora's guys fell in two hours, and he still wants to head into Area 6!"
"Have they even got a chance?" the avian asked his commander softly.
"That depends on how the Venomians defend the place, I suppose. Anilora thinks they took out maybe two hundred of Frost's ambush, but even then the Katinans will still be outnumbered by, say, six hundred. If Celestra can keep Frost busy, though, and Bill, Erik, and William lead the advance with those new electron detonators, they just may have a chance."
Katt sat up very suddenly, seeming to have only just heard what Fox was saying. "Just a minute--did you say they tapped in?"
The vulpine shrugged. "Yeah--so?"
A frown crossed the female technician's lovely features as she groaned. "Fantastic; I think I know what they're planning."
Falco issued an incomprehensible grunt, his vote for Katt to continue, and she rolled her eyes and said, "Let me put it this way--Keil Ford has been thrown into jail and faced the Zonessian judicial systems on more than one occasion for being caught uploadiong computer viruses into confidential government software. My superior has very little regard for the rules, but when it comes to hacking and scrambling processing technology, you won't find a more brilliant man anywhere in Lylat. Suddenly you guys show up and Keil finds Slippy, the teenage mastermind behind the Metgiacon fiasco all those months ago. And now they spend all their time holed up in each others' rooms, trading technical secrets and eavesdropping on private conversations. Is that suspicious to either of you?"
"You don't think--" Falco trailed off in exasperation.
"--That they're actually stupid enough to attempt an internal siege of the Bolse satellite?!" Fox finished incredilously, his eyes growing wider with each word.
"How in all hell do they expect to pull that one off?" Falco sighed in amazement.
"You don't think it's possible?" Katt accused, round sapphire eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Sweetheart, do you have any idea just how many guys Andross has got guarding the internal mechanism?" Falco jeered, bending over Katt and sticking his face near hers so she didn't miss his skeptical smirk. "Hundreds. We've worked with Slip for years, and even though Metgiacon was a little kamikaze for him I know he's not stupid enough to try something that suicidal."
"Well, let me tell you something, darling," Katt snarled viciously, spitting the last word like an ugly curse. "Keil and I have been in the same Arspace division for almost five years, and trust me--at twenty-nine, he is that suicidal."
Falco eased back from her, seeming nervous and pale. Suddenly the two male mercenaries didn't know what to think.
"Right," said Keil, turning to face Slippy when the call went out for all pilots to ready to strike the satellite. "Are you clear on what you're supposed to do, kid?"
Slippy turned his baseball cap backwards and snapped a hefty utility belt around his stocky waist. "Totally. Think you can keep up with me?"
The coyote laughed heartily and likewise strapped guns to his person, preferring to velcro his weapons to his upper thighs. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you; I've been pulling stunts like this for years." He looked up, smile melting from his face as he surveyed the thirteen-year-old. "You know what this could mean, don't you? You know they're all down there."
The youngest mercenary tucked the Aggravator, his tiny but powerful laser pistol, into a pouch on his heavily-laden utility belt and nodded in resolution. "I know Keil. And I'm ready."
"Then let's get going." Keil glanced into the mirror atop his desk, sizing up their reflections in it with anxious eyes. On the whole they looked sleepy, nervous, and very sick to their stomachs, but it was time for action and they were more than prepared to do their part.
Keil Ford decided as he shut the door to his living quarters and started off for the docking bay with Slippy beside him that he had never been more ready to die.
"Diamond formation," ordered Fox as Falco, Peppy, and Katt caught up with him. "We'll stay in this formation and attack the satellite together until Star Wolf shows up, then it's every mercenary for himself."
Katt took up her position as the west point in the diamond and advanced, Fox in the lead, Falco behind, and Peppy to her right. Behind the mercenaries Vortex Four was leading the rest of the Cornerian starships and cruisers aggressively, keeping the Bolse satellite greedily in their sights; the Zonessian cruisers, further coordinated into play by ROB, were as yet unseen, but the feline had no doubts that Fox and General Pepper had negotiated on a fantastic place for them to fit in. Arwings rushed ahead of them in groups of twenty, already engaging the masses of Venomians steadily seeping out of the enormous satellite.
Bolse rather resembled a narrow skyscraper suspended precariously in deep space, increasingly more ominous with Venom, Lylat's first planet, serving as an eerie backdrop for the battle. The arrival of General Pepper's fleet was anticipated; hundreds of Andross's supporters were entrenched in the near vacinity, covering a defensive posture about the monument, alreading firing off long shots at the advancing force. On Fox's command the mercenaries' formation spread out to cover more ground, putting space between one another and making a more difficult target for their attackers; Keil and Slippy had not yet struck out on their way, and if Star Wold was here, they had yet to present themselves.
"Attack at will and at full force!" General Pepper thundered over the communications device. "We must destroy the satellite to attack Venom!"
"Dive left," Fox suggested, and as one the four mercenaries curved gracefully in a westerly direction, never faltering in their formation. None of them had fired a shot yet, preferring to tail a few scores of Arwing around in a semicircle and search for a vulnerable opening. All at once a stray starship dropped from a hatch and maneuvered away; a thin path appeared between Cornerian and Venomian, and Fox's eyes lit up with recognition.
"Open fire!" shouted the mercenary leader, and the avian, the hare, and the feline narrowed their eyes in concentration and began firing upon the satellite's exterior. A few of the beams glanced off rogue fighters, but most had been expertly shot and scored upon the surface.
"Our lasers didn't cause any damage!" Peppy called. "That thing is exuding massive amounts of shield energy and has no outer weak points. We need to exhaust the shields somehow before we strike again!"
"Good luck with that, by the way," sneered a familiar voice, and Peppy was pummeled by laser energy from behind. Fox called for his team to come about, and the four mercenaries of Star Wolf glided in from separate locations, uniting and perfectly mirroring the spread-out diamond formation. Pigma Dengar had spoken, and was now snickering in a sinister fashion as the eight pilots faced one another.
"Andross must have more patience than I thought," Falco commented to Leon with an edge of superiority to his tone. "Here we are at his most important satellite, and he hasn't killed you guys on account of miserable failure yet."
Wolf growled ferociously, single eye narrowing at the shot to his teams' pride. Star Fox couldn't possibly know abou their recent humiliation at their employers' hands, so they couldn't even begin to fathom the depths to which Falco's jab had enraged them. "You'll want to keep that beak of yours shut tight, Lombardi," the opposing mercenary leader whispered dangerously, hands clutching his craft's joysticks tightly. "You never know just how much trouble it could place you in."
"Who's the girl?" Andrew asked suddenly, noticing Katt's pink Arwing with a pang of disappointment; he had, after all, been expecting to meet with Slippy.
"It doesn't matter," Wolf continued in the same soft and venomous voice. "She's yours."
At a signal from Fox the three Arwings behind him glided into a straight line. "It all stops here, O'Donnel. The feud ends today, no matter what."
"Agreed. Let us commence."
"That's our cue to get moving, kid," Keil said to Slippy, tightly strapping himself into the cockpit of the Zonessian Arwing ReBoot and scanning to be sure everything was in top working order. "I figured Star Wolf would wait to see if any technicians made a beeline for the satellite; that's why we let you buddies go first. They'll keep Wolf and company busy while we sneak around."
Acid Rain's engines warmed and fired, and the pair of hackers ejected from the Great Fox's last two open hangars. "Good plan," Slippy acknowledged, switching his communications to a private channel so he and his fellow conspirator would not be overheard. "Just one question--how are we to go about getting in?"
A grid map of Bolse Defense Outpost materialized on the youngest mercenary's G-Diffuser screen, detailing a flashing vulnerable section every three stories on the northern side. "These exit hatches alternate between being open and closed to let back-up fighters join the Venomian ranks at regular intervals. I've studied the time frames; they open every ten minutes for one minute at a time before shutting again. While they are closed the shields cover the doors to prevent damage, but they have to shut those particular areas down when the doors open to allow spacecraft to pass through. To avoid suspicion we'll have to circle a few times until the hatches open, but Pepper promised he wouldn't let anybody else attempt infiltration, so with any luck we'll go unnoticed."
Slippy was momentarily taken aback by the drastic change that came over Keil while he described the entire process; for a few minutes he no longer seemed the same person, one not comical and laid-back but intellectual and calculating. He found he admired the older man as Keil led him toward the satellite, weaving constantly to avoid laser fire. "I'm shocked, Keil--it sounds like you've done this a time or two!"
The coyote chuckled to himself. "My motto is, 'The guesswork doesn't start until the fighting does'. I know their setup better than they do."
They started to rotate the long, slender satellite, holding their shots in check as the shields were still in place and waiting for the exit hatches to open. "Have you got the detonators?" Slippy asked.
Keil patted a small burlap sack hanging from his belt and smiled as he thought of its contents, a quintet of Titanian explosives, the best models in the galaxy. "Of course. I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone by failing to cause mass mayhem."
At that moment pinpricks of black appeared amidst the iridescent hue of the encompassing shields; Keil's eyes narrowed, all business again. "Fall out!" he told Slippy, veering down and right to the nearest open spot, turning a narrow corkscrew to avoid shots aimed his way. The mercenary, tailing him closely, had little time to mimic the move but followed quite admirably, shooting down one enemy pilot posing a threat to the Zonessian from the left flank as he did. The way was clear; Keil made a dive for the opening, squinting his eyes to guage the distance remaining, and the pair swept into the hatch.
The chute was dark and so close on all sides that Slippy felt his heart clench in a claustrophobic spasm, ended only when Keil's voice broke the silence. "We're nearing the docking bay, so be on the alert! It's large, so we won't be spotted right away, but I give it no more than half a minute before someone realizes no one in the Venomian fleet owns an Arwing. Land beside me, bring only what you need, and we'll bail for the elevators."
They burst into a brightly-lit, dome-shaped docking bay, landing off to one side to avoid attracting attention. For all their caution they were still sighted almost immediately; a few voices rang out in warning, and shortly after a shrill security bell rang out through the halls of Bolse. Slippy vaulted out of the cockpit, drawing a pair of molten flame laser pistols before he even hit the ground and coming up firing. He spotted Keil fifty feet away, crouched low in the shadow of his Arwing's left wingtip and firing with a devastating freezing pistol. The coyote noticed his comrade's speedy approach and drew out another gun, leveling it to cross just behind Slippy's escape path before pulling the trigger. A thick cloud of green gas filled the air; within it could be heard the faint, raspy sounds of Venomian soldiers coughing and gagging.
"Go!" Keil shouted, now firing at the floor to his left and freezing the oncoming Venomians in their tracks. "Run for the elevators!"
Slippy skittered to avoid the icy sheen covering the tile floor and sprinted on ahead, eyes set determinedly upon the nearest closed elevator. He was only a few yards away when it opened, and the three soldiers within were so surprised to see him that he met no resistance before he shot them all down. Dancing into the shelter of the elevator and kicking out the bodies he glanced back; Keil was surrounded, downing Venomians by the dozen with his magnificent ice blaster, but the docking bay was buzzing with extra pilots and they kept advancing.
"Keil!" Slippy called, flinging one arm out to hold the elevator doors ajar. The Zonessian again raised the green gas gun and fired it, this time in Slippy's direction; he darted out of his shelter and sucked in a great breath, holding his nose as he plunged on through the lethal clouds of toxic gas. He emerged unharmed on the other side and unchallenged from behind, pumping his arms furiously to gain speed in his desperate run as the mercenary removed his arm and targeted the few Venomians still struggling to catch up with Keil. The door was halfway shut when Keil lunged through the opening to crash into the metallic wall at the back of the elevator; a final shot screamed through the crack in the door and impacted inches above his head, and the elevator shut behind them.
"There . . . should be a . . . button . . . labeled defensive coordinations bay," Keil panted, and after scanning the panel Slippy pressed the correct button and they jolted upwards.
"What was that . . . gas gun?" Slippy asked sheepishly, collapsing on the floor near his accomplice.
Keil smiled weakly and glanced at the green blaster still clutched tightly in his left hand. "This little beauty? That's gaseous cyanide--lethal dose. One whiff of that stuff and your nasal passages burn, finally to eat away at vital lung tissue."
Slippy's eyes widened. "Wicked."
"Yeah." Keil let his head bang back against the wall as he set about regaining his breath, allowing himself to relax momentarily. It wasn't until the elevator shuddered to a stop three-quarters of the way to their destination that he got nervous.
Wolf couldn't help but chuckled at the panic-stricken looks on the faces of the toad and the coyote when he shut down all elevator access within Bolse. They were isolated about six floors below their destination in a broken-down elevator car; soon enough he would be watching with delight as a hand-picked defense team captured them and thrust them into Andross's clutches. Things weren't looking too anxious after all.
Fox heard the bemused laughter from his nemesis and grew slightly nervous, for surely the two hackers had departed by now. "What's so funny, O'Donnel?"
"Why, it's just precious. Your friends nearly had it in their heads that they could slip past Andross in his own domain!" Wolf broke into riotous laughter, joined by his mercenary team as they renewed their vicious onslaught. "Who convinced them to try something so ridiculous? It wasn't you, was it, McCloud?"
That brought the vulpine up short; quickly he called for his team to regroup as he growled; "They'd better not be hurt, damn it, or I swear I'll--"
"Strong words, commander, seeing as how threats will gain you nothing but the gruesome deaths of your friends," Leon put in smoothly. "But just to set your minds at ease, your meddlesome pair are as yet unharmed, though I cannot say for how much longer."
"So basically, shut up," Pigma ordered them, clearly enjoying being in charge.
As the mercenaries bantered back and forth, the siege of Bolse was on in full all around them. The Zonessian cruisers were in the picture now, having entered with surprise from the east to join General Pepper as the operation began. The area was alive with sound, color, and motion for miles, and although the numbers were roughly even the Cornerians were overwhelming their enemies with unrivaled skill. On the outside things were going well, but if Keil and Slippy failed inside the satellite, everyone's hopes would die with them.
"What's happening, Fox?" Falco piped in, glancing at his friends' anger-tensed visage with concern. "Everything okay?"
'They didn't hear a thing,' Fox realized silently. It made no sense to bother his three teammates with news of the slight complications within; after all, maybe they were being held up, but he suspected much more would transpire before the Venomians overwhelmed their two friends. "Fine, Falco. Split up and close in!"
Darkness fell within the elevator compartment as Keil and Slippy ground to a halt. Somewhere in the distance shouting could be heard; their enemies were closing in, and quickly.
"Seach every stopped car! They couldn't have gone far!"
"You there! Check all the stairwells!"
Slippy's breath speeded up, joining his heartbeat in a rapid race. "Keil, they're onto us!"
The coyote's eyes gleamed with excitement in the darkness a few feet away. "Tricky, tricky . . . they think if they stop one option we won't find another. What a bunch of dense opportunists. Luckily, I prepared for an event like this." A flicker of light shot through the blackness; Keil had lit a match and was studiously staring at the ceiling. "Just as I thought--an emergency escape compartment. If we can get up there, it'll lead us out to the elevator shaft." As Slippy looked on, Keil fumbled with a grappling gun banded to his belt and took careful aim, first firing at the square hatch and knocking it loose. Next he jumped in a perfect vertical line, just high enough to hang from the edge by his fingertips; with a grunt of effort he hoisted himself up and out, scrambling up and rolling to his feet. Kneeling he put out a hand for the mercenary, who leapt up and grabbed it; soon they were standing in a grubby and dirty shaft, squinting up into the gloom at the cables suspending their car in midair.
"You go first," said Keil. "I'll cover you from behind, just in case you fall or our friends try to follow us."
Nodding grimly Slippy slowly started ascending, concentrating on the repetitive hand-over-hand motion necessary for him to climb six additional floors. When all remained clear Keil re-holstered his guns and started up after him, patiently pausing every few seconds so his less-physical comrade could catch his breath. They continued on in this manner for four floors before they were accosted again.
Thumping echoes wafted up to Keil's ears from below, and he narrowed his eyes and glanced down. Someone was pounding on the elevator door, attempting to force entry as the power was shut down. He commanded Slippy to pay it no mind and keep moving, and just after he said that the door was blasted apart and their pursuers rushed into the empty compartment. "Don't breathe!" he shouted up to the mercenary, and hanging precariously from the cables by one hand he fired a cloud of cyanide below, barring the Venomians' path toward them.
As Slippy continued to scramble frantically higher, bare lightbulbs snapped back on in the shaft; again everything hummed to life, and to Keil's ultimate horror the elevator below them regained power and slowly began inching its way upward.
"Climb, Slippy!" Keil urged, closing the distance between them and ascending at the young mercenary's heels. Slippy's hands were raw from grasping the coarse cables, but somehow he summonded up the energy to quicken his pace as Keil continued to shout him on from below. He topped the sixth story and tumbled into the alcove outside the closed door; Keil slipped, lost his grip, and fell to collapse on the elevator ceiling, groaning as he re-oriented himself. Slippy gasped, calling for the Zonessian to try again; the compartment was rapidly picking up speed, and in response to the mercenary's cries Keil secured everything to his belt and extended his arms in earnest.
"I'm counting on you, Slippy!" he cried out. "Don't let me down!"
The car was at a grueling speed when Slippy darted out, groping for and finding Keil's shirt; with a tremendous heave he yanked his comrade into the alcove a split-second before the elevator went thundering away above them.
"Are you trying to get us both killed?!" Slippy shrieked at him, breath coming in short gasps.
"I've been to jail so many times that I started taking chances to avoid going back," Keil offered in response. "Relax, kid--we're still alive, ain't we?"
Rolling his eyes, Slippy rose and helped Keil to his feet. "For the present. You up for another wild ride?"
On the opposite side of the closed elevator door, many voices could be heard shouting at one another to keep order. Keil winked at the mercenary, whisking his guns into his hands, and they burst in shooting.
'Too many,' Leon thought tensely, gritting his teeth against the feeling of overwhelmed dread that was tightening his throat. 'We never had a chance to succeed here; the Cornerians are too many with far too great of skill and strategy for our fleet to stand against them for much longer. Wolf knows it--he grows disheartened in the face of yet another failed mission.'
This last statement was quite correct, for the eradication of this Venomian fleet was so devastating and complete that it struck them all hard. Wolf was no longer a match for Fox; Pigma was now shooting at anyone, be they friend or foe. Perhaps they would keep the satellite, but they would surely lose the day.
"Come in, Wolf. This is Reivin Frost."
The lupine nearly cried out with relief; at last, he was being offered a way out of the carnage. "I hear you. Is it time?"
"Yes, it is time. Meet me on Venom, outside the Altar of Fallen Star. Oh, and Wolf . . . bring your A-game, won't you? It is high time the tables turned in our favor."
"Affirmative." Abruptly Wolf disengaged from his constant combat with Fox and called the rest of his team together. "Bolse has long been overrun."
"That was anticipated, but in a few hours it will cease to matter. Frost, over and out."
The Star Wolf mercenaries turned to flee, leaving the Star Fox team in a state of utter perplexity as Wolf called, "Farewell, McCloud! So sorry to cut this date short, but we have other pressing matters to attend!" Before Fox could even order his team into a suitable pursuit their enemies had all but disappeared amongst the myriad of spacecraft, lost to all who would follow.
"What was that all about?" Katt asked no one in particular, but the other were so speechless and fearful that no one answered her.
Keil tossed Slippy the sack of Titanian explosives, grimacing in satisfaction as he stepped gingerly around bodies to navigate the room. The pair were shaken up and slightly bruised, but both had yet to sustain any true injury. As the Zonessian settled comfortably into the chair at the main computer in the defensive coordinations bay he rummaged about one overlarge pocket, lit a cigarette, and lazily blew out a stream of smoke after his first deep draw. Slippy rushed about setting the detonators, firing questions at his accomplice as he did.
"Do we need a password to invade the mainframe?"
"Yep," said Keil, already typing at an expert's pace, face wreathed in smoke.
"Have you got it?"
"Yep."
"After the input, can you crash the shields?"
"Yep."
Slippy set the last bomb and turned back to Keil, slightly perturbed. "Dost thou love thy mercenary?"
"Nice try, kid, but I am paying some remote attention." The coyote sat back, studying the screen with mild interest and holding his cigarette fashionable between his fore and middle fingers. "Fortunately our Venomian buddies aren't too bright--I just hacked past the password configuration and I'm staring down the barrel of the defensive systems shutdown."
"Excellent." Slippy smiled as Keil easily terminated the shields around Bolse, leaving it vulnerable to the deadliest of Cornerian onslaughts. "Time to go."
"Agreed. Let's bail." Keil rose quickly, synchronizing his wristwatch to seven minutes and pressing a small red button on the side. Before leaving the Great Fox for this particular mission, Keil and Slippy had combined their genius to create this watch, whose frequency was set to that of the detonators and would set them off after the desired time expired. A faint bleep sounded from the placed weapons, and Keil carefully replaced the cigarette between his teeth, saying, "Nearly done; now we've just got to hijack Venomian fighters from the nearest docking bay in seven minutes."
The mercenary kicked the door in, kneeling around the frame to peer safely down the hallway. "Piece of cake; the coast is clear." He led the way, wincing every so often as they passed beneath a loudspeaker, for the call was still out for the intruders to be intercepted and foiled. The difficult parts of their mission were already behind them; in a few minutes Bolse would be internally crippled, paving the way for the Cornerians and Zonessians to bring it down in their wake. Behind Slippy, Keil was attempting to savor the last drags of his cigarette when he unholstered his freezing pistol and it fell from between his teeth. Cursing violently, he continued on.
"Five minutes left before this place blows," Slippy informed Keil over his shoulder. They skittered around a corner and stopped dead in their tracks; the pair faced a pure adamantite door labeled 'primary squadron docking bay'.
Keil stroked his chin and started tapping one boot thoughtfully. "Hmm . . . must be where they keep all the halfway decent ships. This won't do, though; I haven't go a single thing that can blast through adamantite."
"Let's try to find another way in, then," Slippy suggested, and he turned down a perpendicular bisecting hallway.
Keil took two steps in pursuit and heard a small, nondescript scuffing noise behind him; casting a negligent glance over his shoulder he spied a single Venomian peering nervously from around the corner they had just rounded, sighting Slippy's back down the twin barrels of some type of energy rifle. Barking out a single command to the mercenary Keil's hands snapped to his belt; the shot fired, and the coyote dove to intercept the beam before it struck Slippy. He hit the floor with a devastating thud, hands desperately grasping at a sizzling hole in his lower abdominal region.
"KEIL!!" Slippy screamed. "NO!!"
The mercenary drew out the Aggravator and advanced a step, gracefully dropping down to one knee as he did so and launching one shot that easily took out the sniper. Keil's hands were clutching his wound, fingers already sticky with blood; Slippy dropped quickly and pulled his friend in close to support him, hardly believing what had just occurred. "Keil! Keil, are you alright?"
The coyote's blurry amber eyes flickered rapidly, as though he were struggling to keep them open and alert. "I . . ." His hands were completely stained with blood, but still he somehow managed a raspy chuckle and made to rise. "Yeah, I think so . . . we've got to get going . . ." Slippy hoisted Keil to his feet, slinging one of the coyote's arms around his own shoulders so he had something to lean on. A sick grimace shone blatantly in Keil's face; gritting his teeth, harnessing denial as an ally, Slippy dragged the wounded man down the hall with him.
He wanted so very badly to cry, but it seemed that charge of getting them out alive had suddenly fallen upon him. Why hadn't he turned around sooner, the moment their adversary had appeared? It was all his fault; Keil had been shot trying to save him from harm. Slippy swallowed in fear and guilt.
The docking bay was nearly empty, for by now most of the fleet had emptied in a desperate attempt to deter the Cornerians; Keil's legs failed him, and Slippy helped him sink down to the floor beside a wasplike Venomian craft. The Zonessian technician was laboring for breath as well; Slippy was holding him close, struggling not to cry, and he could feel the blood seeping from the wound and through his own clothes.
"It's dark in here," Keil pointed out softly, and Slippy chose not to say how unnaturally bright it really was.
"Keil, come on, I'll help you into a ship--" Slippy wriggled away from the older man and made to open the cockpit, but Keil laid a hand lightly on his forearm, drawing the mercenary's gaze, and he slowly shook his head.
"Look, Slip . . . I just can't make it." His eyes were slightly glazed now, as though he was not truly seeing anything around them. "You've got to go on . . . without me."
Slippy dropped back to his knees, tearing fiercely at the fabric that comprised his flight vest and struggling to make a bandage of some sort; he didn't know what to do, he wasn't a medic, but he had to do something, anything, couldn't imagine leaving this man, his savior and greatest friend, here to die! "Are you kidding me, Keil?! I can't do that! We're going to make it out of this, you've just got to hang in there for a little while longer, okay?!" His voice was unnaturally high-pitched; Slippy was beginning to panic.
Keil pushed Slippy's hand--and the bandages--away, shifting to lay his head in the mercenary's lap. "No, Slippy! I came here . . . ready to die . . . completely prepared to give everything I had . . . for General Pepper and Captain Anilora. And I did . . . and it was worth it . . . but now I can't do . . . any more."
Tears trailed down Slippy's cheeks, falling to drop onto Keil's forehead. "I can't leave you! Please . . . get up . . ."
"You know something?" Keil weakly clutched at Slippy's hand, forcing a faint smile onto his thin, pale lips. "You were great . . . you're really . . . made of tough stuff . . . I'll never regret . . . saving you . . ." The Zonessian coughed once, and a spatter of red exploded from his mouth. The floor beneath him was soaked and slick with his own lifeblood; a beep sounded faintly from his wrist, signaling the start of the last minute. "Out of time . . . please . . . go, Slippy. You've got to go . . ."
"No!" Slippy insisted, shoulders wracking with tremendous sobs. "What will I tell everybody? That I left you? That I gave up? I won't do that! I'll get you out, I'll save you, Keil, I swear . . ." He trailed away, dissolving into despair. "Just don't leave me . . . here alone."
"Not . . . alone . . ." Keil was holding some thin, square object in the hand Slippy was clutching; the mercenary removed the floppy disk and shoved it in his pocket. "I always wanted you . . . to have that. And . . ." Keil's chest heaved, but he was determined to speak his last. "Just know that . . . you're never alone . . . I'll . . . always be there . . . Slippy . . ."
Keil Ford was laying limply in a pool of dark crimson; his hand went limp in Slippy's and the mercenary eased his dead companion's head to the floor, bending over him in a wash of tears to briefly place an admiring kiss upon his forehead. Sobbing uncontrollably he slid the cyanide blaster from its holster and slipped it into his own belt, then he dashed for the nearest enemy spacecraft, leaving his hero to his tragic end.
One brief explosion followed by many others told the Cornerian fleet that the two hackers had succeeded; as the first shots lanced away toward the satellite cheers went up from everyone, for the beams not only hit but caused damage. Numerous jubilant cries of "Bring it down!" boomed over the intership channels, and the elation soared when Bolse was reduced to space junk.
General Pepper, the three mercenaries, and Katt rushed to the Vortex Four docking bay, expressions wild and radiant, ready to joyously congratulate the victorious duo. Slippy was waiting for them, clutching the disk, face a disbelieving and sodden wreck as he approached them.
"Where's Keil?" Katt questioned softly, and a feeling of dread descended upon them all.
"He . . ." Slippy swallowed hard and wiped his face, eyes fixed on the floor. "He didn't make it."
Each one took the news hard, Katt perhaps the worst of all as she swooned into Falco's chest and exploded into an ocean of unstoppable tears. Fox ran a hand down his face and squinted his eyes shut; Peppy turned away, hanging his head. Slippy started walking, striding silently past them and out of sight.
Word sped around each cruiser in the entire fleet that a change of direction was in order; instead of departing to strike Venom's right side straight away, General Pepper had decided to rendezvous with Captain Anilora and the allied triad at Area 6. They set off at once, following Vortex Four in a grand procession due west, praying they would not be too late to help.
Alone with his grief, Slippy sat on the edge of his bed that evening, staring evently at the disk Keil had given him moments before his death. It didn't matter that his computer screen was bright before him, or that the mechanism was waiting for a command--Keil Ford's life was far more important to him than anything he could have ever imagined, and the heartache he felt would not allow him to continue.
Crying anew, he slipped it beneath his mattress.