The Star Fox universe, Emperor Andross, Bill Grey, Fay Dawn, General Pepper, and many of the technologies used/described here are © Nintendo
Kazen Dornel, Gerard Hartford, Secillia Merrix, Alen Geale, Jelira Fovoham, General Redric and other custom made characters are property of Eric Luck I would be flattered if one were to use them in an art/writing piece, but I would appreciate notification beforehand. Thank you.
Due to combat, death throes, and various other war related content, this chapter is rated R
Author's Note: In the game Starfox 64, one was capable of single-handedly obliterating entire fleets. For creative purposes, the weapons such as the Arwing and Landmaster have been severely reduced to a far more realistic level.
Because being able to rack up in excess of 200 kills in one mission makes for a good video game, but not a good novel.
A big thanks goes to various music soundtracks for providing ideas and inspiration for this piece, especially Skies of Arcadia. I may compile a list of tunes that go with different scenes someday. Thanks also goes to my friends who supported and provided feedback while this was in the works, and to the numerous Starfox fanfic writers already out there for also providing inspiration.
This story is only to be distributed under my permission only. Questions/comments/complaints? Hurl them to me at
The Threshold of Strife
Chapter Four - Aldebaran
By Eric Luck
Author's Note: For reference, I picture the parade grounds of Aldebaran base to resemble the base seen in Star Fox: Assault previews.
"Hahah, so she has finally witnessed war for what it is. What will you do now...." - Field Marshall Edwin Visner, witnessing Jelira's outburst during combat.
Ashlea squeezed her eyes shut in surprise, clasping her weapon close to herself. Every time an artillery barrage, or tank shell screamed overhead with an otherwordly howl, the entire APC shook from the concussion vibration, shortly followed by the ever closing rumble of the impact.
Already, she could hear the distant chaos of combat, accentuated by bright flashes that'd shine through the vehicle's thin viewports. Praying she wouldn't regret doing so, Ashlea peered out one of the ports into the outside world.
The sun was just reaching it's apex in the sky, but already a red, smokey haze consumed the skyline of their eventual destination. All around them other vehicles were speeding across terrain, brushing aside small vegatation. On the other side were the immense looming shapes of the motherships, which continued to deploy combat craft from their bowels in unending streams.
Suddenly, some manner of Cornerian fighter craft, she couldn't readily identify it from this distance, swooped down upon the rapidly advancing armor column, attempting to make a strafing run on the seemingly hapless attackers. Just as it was coming within range, however, a Hurricane's missle shot up to meet it and collided with the fighter with deadily precision, consuming the craft in a fireball as it spun lifelessly overheard, it's sputtering engines briefly overtook the rest of the surrounding noise. Ashlea and the rest of the company reactively shielded their ears from the overpowering cacophany, which abruptly was cut off with a resounding explosion off to the other side.
And this has only just begun...
"Alright, men! It's time to lock and load!" the sergeant suddenly bellowed, jarring Ashlea from her observation, prompting her to immediately take her seat.
"We're coming up on the LZ, and it's going to be hotter than your momma's apple pie!"
She simply checked to ensure her weapon was loaded and ready to fire. Then patted herself down, ensuring her sidearm was close at hand, as were her fragmentation and smoke grenades. Her comrades followed suit, either ignoring, or not amused by the condor's attempt at humor.
"Keep your friends close, remember your training, and you just might survive. I'll leave individual squad leaders to their groups from here on in." he continued, picking up and loading his own SMG.
"Now, listen up Dover Company." one of her comrades, a lieutenant shouted over the roar of the engine, and the rumble of the war outside.
"I'll be your squad leader for this little sojourn, the name's Franz, but you'll call me 'sir'." the iguana instructed.
"Follow my lead, and Benson? They'll probably still have at least one armored unit there, so I want you on alert in case we encounter anything."
A badger with a double barreled rocket launcher standing between his legs nodded in acknowledgement.
"The rest of you, announce any contacts you see, I don't wan-"
Suddenly Franz's monologue was interrupted by an impact to the side of the vehicle, thrusting the APC onto the side and tossing it's now paniced occupants about. The last thing Ashlea remembered before blacking out was feeling a sharp pain in the back of her head hitting a wall. She didn't even have time to fear for her life.
---------------
"Sir! Sir! It's not safe here!"
Captain Pendergress lowered his head against the console, he could feel the tremors vibrating through his hands with each impact. The scene all around him was grim, the base's parade grounds was littered with impact craters, corpses of fallen soldiers were scattered hereabout after failed attempts to flee incoming artillery. Others had managed to man various emplacements, and were returning AA fire, and lobbing mortar shells at the oncoming armor columns. Yet, he knew that this would, at the very best, only delay the inevitable...
"Yes, I know...What's the status on Vega base?" the hyena asked forebodingly, almost wishing he hadn't.
"Well sir, we...haven't had any radio communication ever since...they came under attack from bombers..." the chinchilla said nervously.
"...And Sirius?"
"The same."
"Alright..." Pendergrass said woefully, taking the microphone into paw, and activating it with a clearing of his throat.
"Attention all staff. Attention all staff. This is Captain Doreguard Pendergrass, speaking." he began, doing his best to talk over the periodic explosions. "I am issuing Protocol 25, that means every remaining officer of rank in this sector is to fall back to tertiary defensive positions to maintain defense of the base. If it comes to it, be prepared to evacuate. In that event, I want what fuel, weapons and munitions we can't take with us destroyed. Good luck, and Godspeed."
With that, he dropped the mic onto the console, feeling another tremor from an artillery shell shake the control tower.
"Alright, lead the way, sergeant."
---------------------
"...ry one alright?!"
Ashlea's vision began slowly clearing, although all she could see was a dark blue steel wall consuming her vision.
"Lundra! Get your tail up, now!" the voice shouted, accompanied by a prompting shove to her backside. Still waking up from her sudden bout of unconsciousness, she could barely muster the energy to pick her equipment-laden body up from the APC's wall. It wasn't long before the outside noise began registering itself. The high-pitched whine of heavy laser fire filled the air all around her, accompanied with ballistic small-arms zinging about like maniacal insects.
Finally propping herself up, she immediately felt her lungs wretch and force several coughs from the acrid, smokey air that'd permeated the inside of the vehicle. Already her comrades were pulling themselves out of an opened hatch skyward, and hastily tumbling out of sight. Immediately, she scrambled after them, nestling her weapon in the crook of her arm. Upon pulling herself out of the hatch, she couldn't help but gaze at the scene for a moment.
All around, Venomian and Macbethan vehicles were cruising along the grasses, dispatching any outer defenses with ear splitting plasma rounds. It wasn't long before another artillery salvo roared overhead, and impacted on the base nearby. She just then noticed how their APC had been overturned. Apparently, some manner of mortar shell scored a direct hit on them, and while the armor had held, the force of the impact and blast toppled it. It took her less than a second to register just how lucky they all were. The feeling of her own mortality sinking in with that realization sent soul-rending chills up her spine that froze her on the spot. Just then, the artillery barrage hit.
The shock of the impacts alone knocked her off balance, and sent her tumbling off the side, and into the dirt below. But somehow, once she lifted her face from the soil and looked up to her comrades they...seemed distant. She could hear their shouts, and motions to move forward, but they sounded so far away...
What am I...doing here...?
Then it was as though some celestial being had switched reality back on, and the shouts, commands, and seemingly time itself sped up again.
"..ake up, Lundra, on your feet!" the lieutant who identifed himself as 'Franz' demanded. Promptly scurrying to accompany him and the rest of the men taking cover behind the thicket.
Once she'd plopped down beside another Private, the lieutenant continued.
"Alright, our first order of buisness, is to breach this outer wall. Botolph! We're going to need your demolitions to blow a hole in it. But first, you, Montague, scout that outer wall to see if they have any snipers or MG's set up anywhere around here. The rest of you, cover him. Let's go, let's go!"
With that, the skunk fur he had designated as spotter crawled his way through the brush, clearing a path which one by one, the others followed. After a moment, his voice piped up.
"Sir! I've found a clearing here." he announced.
"Right, hold position. Lundra! Make yourself useful, back him up and be prepared to take out anything he points out." the lieutenant ordered.
With a sigh of only compulsory compliance, Ashlea crawled ahead of her comrades, edging a couple inches at a time until she came upon a clearing in the thickest of the brush. Tall grass still concealed them, yet she could clearly see the impressive wall that formed the outside of the base. Some segments of the wall had impact craters in them from the reletless pounding they had recieved from Venomian artillery. Some of the lighter top segments had already crumbled, leaving small piles of concrete and steel rubble. But what was now catching her attention where what appeared to be guard towers, lining the perimeter. Most of them had been blown apart by, and were still under fire from, the enroaching armor.
"Alright, keep low, I'm going to see if any more are up..." Montague stated, making a 'down' motion with his right hand, pulling up his Binocs. Settling herself down as flat as possible, she simply kept her gaze forward, afraid to make a move for fear of being located by some unseen foe.
Silently her compatriot scanned the uppermost level, examining each guard tower and emplacement for signs of life. After what seemed like an eternity to her, he finally settled on one spot, zooming in the lens and staring intently at one spot in particular near a corner. Further down, less than 100 yards from their position, Ashlea too spotted a partially intact guard post, that could still shelter an occupant. It presented a line of fire that would potentially threaten any movement on their part.
"Alright...up there, I'm seeing one manning that wrecked outpost there. With that scoped rifle of yours, you should be able to pick him off. He's the only one, so once he's down we're in the clear." He pointed out, starting to move to make room for her.
Ashlea gulped with dread. This would be the first time in her life she had ever been instructed to kill someone. Video games were one thing, the life of someone she had never met and, under other circumstances could possibly have gotten along with, was another matter entirely. But, she had a job to do.
Ashlea's standard issue V-13 heavy assault rifle was indeed scoped, while it was not intended for a solely sniper role, it could fulfill the role in a pinch, despite it lacking the sheer stopping power of such a weapon.
Switching to semi-automatic mode, she crept forward to where she could get a clearer vantage point without sacrificing too much of her cover. Basic was coming back to her in full swing now, recalling all the long range assault excercises she had been put through, they now all culminated into this moment. Lifting up the stock to her shoulder and peering through the scope, she examined her target.
Indeed, as Montague had pointed out, there was someone up in the shell of the tower, using the seemingly defunct outcropping as cover. Although she couldn't see him as clearly as her scouting compatriot had, having only one magnification setting on her scope. Taking a slow breath to ease her nerves, she settled her crosshairs just above him, accounting for the inevitable drop of the rounds.
I'm sorry...
With that, she squeezed the trigger in short bursts. The rifle emitted loud blasts with each shot, a brief series of muzzle flashes piercing the air. While she couldn't see in detail, she saw the figure initially turn to her direction only to be knocked back, and slide down out of view. She waited for what must have been several minutes, her eye glued to the scope, waiting to see if she had really put him down. Silently, she hoped that whatever suffering he endured was brief.
"Good shot, Lundra." Montague quietly congratulated, despite her still staring at the site of her first kill.
"Alright sir, all clear!"
Shortly, the rest of Dover Company crawled back into place with their equipment close by.
"Good work, you two. Alright, now let's get to wall! Move!" The lieutenant insisted, getting to his feet, followed shortly by the others, Benson with his heavy rocket launcher lagging behind. Plastering her back against the thick concrete wall, Ashlea found herself just behind the demolitions expert, who was just now beginning to unload his tools.
"Okay Botolph. How much time are you going to need to set up?" Franz asked, taking stock of the situation.
"Vell suhr, fortunately ve 'ahve picked a thinner bahck area, near zhe secondary hangar. It vill take me a few minutes to drill zhe holes, zhen wire zem up." the accented trooper replied, unloading his heavy pack. The first major item out of the pack was a complex-looking machine that looked and probably functioned like a small jackhammer.
"Roger that. Get to it, soldier." the lieutenant ordered. "Everyone else, cover the man while he works."
Taking up positions around the designated wall to be blasted, each squad member scanned the surrounding area for any defenders that might be onto their operation.
Meanwhile, Franz pulled up his glove and activated his wrist-com unit.
"Dover company reporting. We have arrived at the designated blast zone, over."
For a moment, only silence.
"Marshall Visner recieving. Good work, men. Companies Joker, Spade, and Hawk are also in place. Major Fovoham's forces will be arriving shortly to support you, they encountered some light resistance outside, but nothing they could not handle. Once inside, your orders are to clear the Hangar of any hostiles you'll encounter, and link up with Spade company inside. Over and out."
"Roger that, sir. Dover company out. Now, when this goes off, every Katinan in this half of the base will know we're here, so we're going to need Major Fovoham's armor here pronto to spearhead our insertion. And...well, speak of the devil."
Just as the iguana was finishing his briefing, a pair of Korchaa tanks burst out of the foliage they had taken cover in earlier, accompanied by several other IFV's.
-----------
"Okay, Visner, my men are in position. I hope yours know what they're doing." Jelira sternly stated into her communique to her compatriot.
"But of course, Major. I would ask you the same question." Visner sneered.
Ignoring his remark, Jelira readjusted her attention to the battlefield display. All outside patrols had been crushed, and she could see what few Green fighters remaining turning tail and falling back.
At least...her sacrifice was not in vain...
----------
"Alright Botolph, get to it!"
Over the sound of near constant gunfire and shelling, one could barely hear the noise of the drilling, which given the anxiety of the situation seemed to take forever. When he was done, Botolph had rigged 6 holes in a hexagonal pattern.
"Alright people, get back!" Franz shouted, starting to motion everyone else away from the blast zone as Botolph was fixing up a wire trigger.
Ashlea joined the rest of them in bolting at least 30 feet from where they had been, quickly throwing themselves onto the ground. Drawing away a lengthy line of wire toward them, the raccoon knelt down in front of them, holding the trigger in hand.
"Fire in ze hole!"
"Fire in the hole!" Franz added, clapping his hands over his eardrums and clenching his eyes shut, the others doing the same.
With that, he punched the button.
The resulting blast was a little bigger than the ones Ashlea remembered during Basic, the resulting tremor was much larger than the quakes caused by the artillery, probably due to her proximity. Even with her ears covered, the resounding roar made her eardrums tremble. Just as the ringing in her ears began to fade, Ashlea took a quick look at the devastation caused.
The explosives had blasted out a hole over 15 feet wide, hurling concrete and steel on both sides of the blast zone.
With that, Franz waved to the waiting armor, signaling them to move forward. Shortly therafter, Ashlea felt other, more distant tremors, most likely other ground teams cracking through other portions of the outer wall.
Following Franz's signal, Major Fovoham's armor trundled down the hill, the lead Korchaa tank beginning to scale the pile of rubble, and penetrate the base's interior.
--------------
Sprinting down stairs, Captain Pendergrass took note of the troops dug in defensive positions. Many were cobbled together from pieces of furniture or sections of fallen wall. Bipod machine guns were mounted atop the makeshift chokepoints, manned by nervous, yet valient defenders.
Suddenly, he was nearly thrown off his feet when a particularly noticable tremor shook the base, followed by at least 2 others of similar magnitude.
"What in bloody hell was that?" he demanded, regaining his footing after nearly taking a tumble down the steps.
Suddenly, as though hearing his question, a computer voice over a staticy PA spoke up.
"Attention, al... eberan defen....eams. Venomian intruders...breached...uter wal.. repeat...all militar...ssonell prepa....or inter....ombat.
"Oh, that's it!" a nerve-wracked soldier exclaimed. "We're screwed! Screwed, man!"
"Shut your pie hole, soldier!" Pendergrass demanded, pointing a gloved finger intently at the offender. "We'll 'old this place if it comes to them sending every man they 'ave! Now, man your post!"
"Sir! We have to keep moving! Secondary comm is just a few floors down!"
"...Yes, of course."
------------------
"Alright, move with the armor! Use them as cover, and watch for any AT infantry they may pull out. Go!" Franz ordered, motioning for the rest of Dover company to follow him, taking cover beside a Korchaa tank. It was plainly obvious they'd stirred up every armed unit in the base the second they went in, almost immediately improvised gun emplacements opened up on the invaders, spraying the initial armored push with streaks of small arms laser fire, with little result. Just as Ashlea was stepping over the peak of the pile of rubble, she noticed one of the guns leading it's tracers toward their entry point and, in a state of near panic scrambled to hide beside a wall extrusion, out of the gun's line of fire. But either Montague hadn't seen it, or assumed the tank was sufficient cover, because just as she slapped her back against a concrete wall directly across from them, she saw lines of fire lance up and strike him in the shoulder.
Crying out in pain, he crumpled off to the side, only to Ashlea's horror, to watch him fall into the open and get hit several times more, until he fell silent in a slowly growing pool of his own blood.
H...He was wounded! How could they...!
"Dammit! Montague's down!" came a vague voice over the chaotic noise, probably Franz's.
Just then, the lead Korchaa, perhaps noting the small arms fire surrounding it, turned it's turret up towards an unseen target, Ashlea hoped it was whichever one was shooting up her comrades...
Suddenly, a blast shook her as the tank opened fire, hitting something in the distance. It probably had been the offending machine gunner, seeing as immediately therafter the suppressing fire ceased.
Nervously, Ashlea eased her head over the edge, peering out at the open parade grounds of the enclosed base. Fortunately for her, other invading parties had drawn the attention of the remaining defender units. Hastily, she sprinted out of her hiding spot, and took cover behind a Vorren, which was fanning out to root out any other defending infantry for the heavier tanks. It was then that, from a smaller door opening, she heard voices shouting orders. Keeping with the vehicle, she cautiously sidestepped toward it, and spied a team of Katinan soldiers hastily setting up a series of MRL's (mobile rocket launchers) behind a sheet of reactive armor plating. Realizing that she was the only one aware of this, she hastily sidled along the wall just outside their position. Just then, a single rocket shrieked out from the position she was approaching, and slammed into the Vorren she was just using as cover a minute ago. The impact shook the vehicle, and blew off a section of it's armored plating. Just as she was searching her pockets for a grenade, a second warhead flew with deadly precision, and struck the vehicle a second time, before it's pilots could react. The resulting blast tore the lightly armored vehicle apart, reducing it into a flaming pile of junk. Gritting her teeth in frustration with herself for being unable to stop them sooner, Ashlea's fingers found the spherical object, drew it out and pushed the primer switch. Just as it began emitting a small, high pitched whine, she lobbed the grenade around the corner and scrambled to safety, knowing the blast would draw attention to herself.
"Look ou-!" an unnamed voice cried out, only to be suddenly silenced.
Ashlea didn't see the blast, but felt the thump it caused.
This is insanity...!
Taking a moment to regain her breath, Ashlea spotted the rest of Dover company exchanging fire with Katinan soldiers positioned on defensive positions in windows, towers, wherever they could find cover. Many found either a sniper round in their faces, or the very ground on which they stood torn up by a plasma shell. Meanwhile, overhead Venomian fighter craft swarmed, their engines occaisonally overpowering even the chaotic conflict beneath them.
Realizing she'd be easy pickings for a sniper that would look her way, Ashlea quickly made use of the defensive position she'd just cleared out, vaulting over the armor plate, and crouching behind it. There, she was greeted with the result of her handiwork. One of the soldiers, an iguana lay against the far wall, shrapnel having pierced his armor plating and inflicting light cuts on his facial scales. Another soldier lay face down amidst a mess of blood and other substances she didn't care to look further into. She couldn't immediately tell what he was, seeing as a good potion of his torso had been disfigured. Others were beside him, along with their partly destroyed launcher, but she did not care to examine them further, either. Hunkering down as far away from the corpse as possible, Ashlea brought her rifle up to her shoulder, and scanned the immediate area for any other defenders. Many of the walls had holes blasted in them from the tanks, and she could hear many more being made in the background. It was beginning to seem that this sector was clear, for the most part.
Just as Ashlea breathed a sigh of relief, she heard something that sent chills up her spine.
"U...Uggh..."
Immediately turning her head around, she noticed that the iguana soldier was still alive! Wounded, yes. But alive, nonetheless...
Bringing her weapon to bear on him, she leaned against the armor plate and kept it trained on him. For a moment, he simply twitched in place, then slowly brought a gloved hand to his wounded face, and one eye opened. For a moment, he didn't notice her being there, then when he did, he jumped back as best his wounded body would allow, but made no attempt to reach for a weapon.
"D...Don't move. Make one grab for your weapon, and I...will not hesitate to fire." she ordered, doing her best to sound as serious and cooperative as possible. The soldier wordlessly stared back at her, and the weapon pointed at him, slowly putting both hands behind his head. Cautiously she stepped toward him, not deviating her weapon from him for a second. Eventually he found the tip of her rifle mere inches from his nostrils as she began searching him.
---------------
Corporal Jared Isaac had never imagined that he would survive a grenade blast. It was likely due to his being the furthest from it. Still, the force of the blast, and the spread of shrapnel sliced into him like a multitude of small razor blades were pain enough for him to deal with. Even more to his surprise was finding himself under the gun of his attacker...a young canine woman who actually looked to be notably shorter than him. Regardless, he was now at her mercy, whoever she was.
Andross is already drafting women...?
It felt strange to be searched by a woman, even if it was the same one that had attempted to kill him earlier. Shortly, she procured his sidearm from his pocket, and tossed it behind her. Part of the strangeness was the fact that, he despised her for what she represented, on the other hand, she did not have the look of one who was on the battlefield willingly, so he couldn't help but pity her, as well. Eventually she deduced that he had nothing else (which he did not) and slowly backed back into her spot, keeping her weapon trained on him.
Then, it struck him. He was the only one to survive the blast. Glancing to the side, his shocked eyes were greeted with the grisly sight of his comrade's corpses. Immediately he could feel his rage boil, and he felt himself snap.
Aaron! Terrence! She...she killed them! That grenade...!
------------
Ashlea wasn't quite sure what to do with a POW, the battle was still raging, and doubtlessly there weren't any available officers to enquire with at the moment. So, she elected to wait out the battle with him, it was a better alternative than putting herself in harms way again...
As she was continuing to analyze him, out of simple curiousity, he stared back at her with a steadily growing intent. She knew that look, but had never had it directed her way before. It was a gaze of seething hatred, of one signing a blood oath to seek revenge against their mortal enemy. And it was her. If she didn't have her gun pointed at him, he would doubtlessly waste no time in throttling her.
Basic had prepared her to deal with being under fire, shellshock, first aid, and all of that. But it never touched on how to respond to a furious POW that would like nothing better than to break her neck.
Immediately she felt herself tense up, holding her weapon just a little closer, for what solace it brought. Now she couldn't take her eyes from his piercing stare, for fear that the second she looked away he'd leap on her.
He...he must hate me for killing his friends...there's no way I can blame him at all...but...
Then, Ashlea felt an immense wave of remorse sweep over her, and the gut-wrenching feeling that came with the realization of just how much somebody hated her. All this was simply too much for her to take, she had to do something to at least...shed the immense burden of guilt from her shoulders.
"I...I...I'm sorry..." was all she could muster, without even thinking about her words.
"Bullshit!" was his immediate, enraged reply.
She was sharply taken aback by this, frozen on the spot.
"You...you just blew up my...my best friend! If I ever live through this...this hell your precious ape has wrought, I'll have to try and identify his mangled body! And you...you just park your little tush right there, wave your gun in my face and tell me that you're sorry?!" He continued, visibly restraining his hands in place.
She could feel her jaw tremble under his accusations, and not just from the force of his shouts. He was right. What right did she have to sit there and simply apologize for it? In his position, she wouldn't have been able to take such empty words, either.
"An..And you went and blew up that Vorren! W..what else was..I supposed to do?" Ashlea attempted to counter, without thinking of where continuing the discussion might lead.
"If you people hadn't come busting down here in the first place, none of this would have happened! What are we supposed to do? Die?"
"I...I don't want to be here! It wasn't my choice...!" Ashlea attempted to reason, unable to deny his logic. It soon got too much for her, all this compounded with all of everything else she'd put up with for her first combat experience...she broke. Leaning her head forward, she felt her face contort with anguish and despair, on the verge of tears.
"Ie...ie..." then, suddenly her vision was obscured by a stark white flash that nearly blinded her. Before she could utter a reply, however...
The sounds of war were fading into the distance, in a bizarre, distorted waver of dischord. Flashes of imagery too fast to identify blurred before her vision, and suddenly...
--------------
The playground sat there amidst grasses and trees, overshadowed by tall skyscrapers, some even penetrating the clouds. Those had always spurred her imagination to impressive flights of fancy when she was young... But, why was she seeing these things?
All around her, vision was slowly coming back to her, the bright white glare fading from her vision.
"..ou alright? ...it...retty hard...shlea? Ashlea?" a faceless voice asked, slowly gaining clarity. She felt herself shake her head about, as though under some other mind's control.
"Owww..." she heard herself complain, in a much smaller voice than she remembered having...
Where....am I...?
She could hear sounds in the background but...everything seemed so...distorted and distant, unnamed sounds warped into an echoing drone not unlike that of large marine mammals...But it brought along a soothing sense of comfort and tranquility. But this was upset from the vague, sourceless whispers that suggested small, unintelligible phrases.
Feeling herself looking around, she soon saw a dark blue rubber ball lying beside her. Then, she realized just how sore her face felt...especially her nose.
What happened...? What's going on...?
Above the otherworldly sounds that flooded into her ears like a steady audible river, she swore she could hear the sound of...children, laughing joyfully as though in play.
Is it...
Then, she felt herself look up, and found a figure much taller than herself looking concernedly over her. But that was the least of her concerns. Suddenly, she was stricken with a realization.
..M...mother...? What...?
"Seriously, Ashlea...you should be more careful..." her mother said concernedly, taking her hand.
--------------
Jared had no idea what was going on. One second, he was enraged over what this woman had done to his friends, next thing he knew she simply...zoned out, was the only phrase he could think of. She now stared right past him, as though engrossed in some other, imaginary world.
"What in the...?" he replied with a grunt, now only more frustrated with her. He dared not move, though.
Her grip on her weapon relaxed, and her eyes seemed to roll about in various directions.
Aw, great...she's having a siezure or something...
"Please." She suddenly mumbled. "This one!....how much?"
What in the hell?
"I don't wanna! You can't make me!" she suddenly cried out.
Then, her hands started to twitch, dropping her weapon on her lap.
How did she ever make it out of the institution? Into an army, no less? Well...this might just be my lucky opportunity...
With that, he slowly lifted his hands away from behind his head, lowering them back towards his lap very slowly and cautiously. She gave no indication of even awareness of her to mumble seemingly completely random nonsence. Taking his chances further, Jared slowly edged away from her, still with no reaction. He might have taken her weapon from her, but..he didn't want to risk stirring her from whatever trance she'd fallen into. More he continued to edge, and she never gave any response. Then, he quickly made his way out of the defensive emplacement, and away from his former captor.
------------------------
Is this...a dream? Am I asleep?
She was now surrounded by the urban sprawl of what she now recognized was her hometown of Bankershire, Macbeth. But...much of it was different from how she immediately remembered it...it was more like...like...
At least..5 years ago...that playground...it was torn down when I was...14. I still remember that...but, why am I seeing it now? Am I...dead? People always used to say your life flashed before your eyes when you die...
She then realized that she was being walked by her mother through town, her left hand held up in another, firm and protective paw. Her legs moved without her willing to do so, like the rest of the experience. It wasn't long before she overheard a street musician's music sounding over the chaos of the citie's activities. He played a strangely sad, almost mournful song on his stringed instrument. The repeated up and down chords that lead around the scale seemed strangely out of place, given the setting. Just as she was pondering the nature of this urban minstrel, his song slowly grew distorted, wavering into the familiar noises that had sounded when this whole vision began...
Suddenly, with a steadily growing, almost ear piercing static noise, her vision was overwhelmed once again with images she could not discern, and the all consuming white glare...
Then, as quickly as it had come, her vision cleared to find herself back where she was, in control of her grown-up body, surrounded by plumes of smoke and fire in the distance. Herhearing was momentarily obscured with the droning noise of...her own heartbeat. It throbbed in her ears, filling her world with the throb of her own pulse. Eventually, it went the way of the audio distortions, and was shortly replaced with the sound of gunfire and explosions in the distance. Then she also noticed that, her prisoner had escaped. Apparently during her 'trip'.
Laying her head in her hands, she now felt her mind run rampant with questions. None of which could find logical answers.
What was that...? Why did that happen...? I...I just want it all to end... somebody save me from this insanity...please..
Letting her rifle clatter to the ground, Ashlea pulled her legs as close to herself as possible in her combat uniform. In vain she attempted to shut out the pain and confusion all around her, her mind injecting memories of happier, more innocent times.
Suddenly her bout of self pity was interrupted by a stray shell landing close behind her, causing her to instinctively dive onto the ground where her captive once sat. It was a minute before she realized she wasn't in any danger.
Ugh..! This is making me a nervous wreck...
Realizing she'd probably be sharply chastised for her absence from the battle, Ashlea pulled herself from the panelled ground and onto her feet. The last thing she needed was to be accused of desertion. With that, she refitted her helmet over her face, picked up her rifle and, as much as her instinct told her to run the other way, made her way back towards the chaos of the battle. Shortly she was greeted an odd, resounding droning noise.
Just as she was wondering what was causing that, she got her answer. The Motherships were sending down Heli-jet transports, accompanied by various gunships, which seemed to be lending air support while the primary fighter wings continued to push the defending airforce back. Several of the vertical take off transports were landing atop the base's rooftops, essentially swarming the now overwhelmed defending force.
It should only be a matter of time, now...
Ashlea's bout of relief was then displaced by a realization. Surely the defenders would simply fall back into the interior of the base, where they would have the defensive advantage. This naturally did not sit well with her...
--------------
Kazen felt his conscious overwhelmed by a droning roar that made his ears ache.
I...I'm alive..?
He couldn't yet ascertain where he was, he had a devil of a time keeping his mind tethered to consciousness as it stood. Darkness prevailed, but it wasn't long before his senses slowly came back to him. He felt...bathed in an unsettling heat, and slowly he began hearing...crackling and smelt acrid smoke.
Fire...Fire! I...I am alive!
The sheer relief of his realization was suddenly replaced with a sense of urgency, especially once he managed to pull his eyes open. He was slumped over a now shattered and unpowered touch control panel. With a strain of effort, Kazen sat up, then took stock of the damage.
The impact had blown a gaping hole in the side of the tank, tearing out a portion of both the chassis and the front of the turret. If the shot had impacted them more directly on the side...Kazen hated to think of what would have happened. As a result, sunlight leaked through the smoldering hole, and small tongues of flame clung to the edges of the largest hole, and larger flames were probably eating away at the external paint. By some stroke of luck, the blast had not caused the engine to outright explode, but rather simply rendered it unable to operate ever again. However...
Then remembering his comrades, Kazen immediately turned to his right, looking to Gerard. His lemur companion was still intact and, after a quick check, still breathing, but still unconscious. Then, looking around and taking stock of the hole's location, a realization dawned on him.
Secillia was the closest to the impact...!
"Se...Secillia! C...can you hear me..?" He managed between chokes. Smoke inhalation was making it hard for him to breathe, let alone speak.
There was an unnerving silence.
Ripping off the tattered seatbelt, Kazen was made aware of his own wounds. His right arm wouldn't respond, and pain shrieked from his upper arm whenever he attempted to move it. His face also began to ache with a searing pain that seemed to have described itself, likely being a burn wound from the plasma.
Ugh..! Probably broke my arm..
Thinking that a singed face was of little matter, Kazen did his best to unfasten himself with his good arm.
"Geale! Geale!" he cried out. Shortly he heard a moan in reply, which relieved him immensely. But he was still worried about Secillia...he couldn't see her from his position.
Reaching up, Kazen fumbled with the hatch lock, managing to pop it open. With a strain of effort and a twinge of pain from his broken arm, Kazen managed to pull his head out.
The scene around him was horrific, several yards ahead of their tank's wreck was the smoldering remains of one of their Monroes, he couldn't tell which one. There was no way anyone in it could have survived, it was barely recognizable as what it had been, now a blackened, twisted husk. Further down the road, he recognized where the Korchaa tanks were, and their respective wrecks. A massive smoke plume still trailed up from the leader, the memory of it's destruction still fresh in his memory. Then he was made aware of other noises, overhead. At first he had hoped somehow the defensive air forces had held the invaders back, but what glimmer of hope was expunged when he saw their shapes, and realized he didn't recognize their engines.
A squadron of Invader 2's zoomed overhead in attack formation, heading off towards the horizon, and a familiar direction.
Aldebaran...!
To his horror, the sound of the explosions, gunfire, and the bright flashes were all coming from his base.
And with the enormous looming shapes of the Motherships cruising forward, any hopes of making it back home were extinguished. Shortly therafter, he saw a shape stumble out of the hole in the side of the chassis. It was Alen.
"Geale!" He called out. "So you are alive!"
After stumbling onto the ground and rolling over onto his back, the ground squirrel yanked his visors off his head and rubbed his eyes.
"Gh...Gck.." He choked at first, holding his throat amidst his coughs. "Y...yeah, I'm alright, sir."
"I'll...get Hartford up, he's still alive...can you see if Merrix is...alright..?" He asked between coughs.
"Y..yessir." With that, he got to his feet, in probably better condition than any of them were, and staggered over to the hole.
Then Kazen settled back into his seat and pushed Gerard with his good arm.
"Hey! Hartford! Get your tail up!" He yelled, giving him another shove.
"U...unn..." he murmured, starting to stir. Lifting his head, Kazen spotted streams of blood about his face.
After pulling himself up, he blinked his eyes a few times and stared absently at Kazen, as though not believing his eyes.
"Are you...Saint Peter?"he asked whimsically.
Even in the light of the situation, Kazen couldn't help but grin.
"No you dork, you're alive."
"Aaah! S...sir! Get down here!" Came Alen's outcry.
Oh, no...
"Give me a sec, Geale, my arm is kindof...broken.." Kazen grunted, attempting to pull himself out of the hatch with only one arm.
"Allow me, you crazy man." Gerard said, grabbing his right side and helping him up.
With his help, Kazen managed to crawl out of the hatch and sprawl himself over the top of the defunct turret. Sliding his torso down, Kazen held his busted arm close to him, gritting his teeth to bear the excruciating pain he was in. Once he hit the ground, doing his best to keep from yeowling in pain.
"What is it?" He asked, ambling toward the hole.
It didn't take long for him to notice. Secillia had been the closest to the point of impact, the shell burrowed behind her seat, which probably was what saved her life. The shark was slumped over her panel, her clothes had tongues of flame on them which Alen was hastily patting to put out, with Kazen shortly aiding as best he could with one hand.
"Holy hell! Put her out!" he screamed, not even noticing the burn pains in his hand as he patted his comrade down. Once that was done, Kazen immediately set two fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse.
It was still there, but irregular and slower than normal. He also noticed that, what parts of her skin weren't clothed were covered in unnaturally dark burns, and her garments had been blackened to a smooth crisp..
"Oh, god...watch her clothes! She's got third degree burns!" Kazen shouted, turning to Alen. Just as he finished, Gerard hopped down onto the ground from atop the turret.
"Oh, no..!" Gerard exclaimed, spotting her form.
"Hartford! Geale! Help me get her out of there!"
"Are you nuts, Kazen? Not with that arm of yours! Here, Alen, get her legs, I've got her torso." Gerard proclaimed aloud, ushering his friend aside. Begrudgingly, Kazen obliged.
With that, Gerard wrapped his arms around Secillia's torso, and Alen held up her legs.
"Alright, ready? On 3, lift!" Gerard ordered. "1...2...3!"
With that, the two of them hefted the shark woman up out of her seat. Even this did not stir her.
Just as the two were setting her down on the ground, Kazen heard a sound he wished he'd never hear in this situation. Suddenly, what must have been a motorized patrol group started to approach, judging from the sound of engines pulling through the forest path that the invading task force had forged.
"Ah, shit..." Kazen cursed under his breath.
Meanwhile, he turned his attention to Secillia, who was slowly beginning to stir.
"Damn...she's going to need a medic, and soon...she's bleeding all about her legs and arms, and she'll need some epidermal regeneration, judging by how...burnt she is." Gerard assessed with a very worried tone.
"Well...I guess it wouldn't be too far fetched to say that, 'help', is on the way..." Kazen mused with a degree of disdain.
"Wha- Oh...man..." Gerard mused, snarling to himself, hearing the engines as well. It wasn't long before they heard footfalls, too.
"Well, it's our only choice...we can't help Secillia here, let's just hope these...people can." Kazen added with a pause.
Alen knelt beside Secillia, clenching his fist and visibly trembling, disliking the notion of surrendering to Andross whole heartedly, but faced with little other choice. It wasn't long before the green armored uniforms of Venomian troops came into view, and when one spotted them, there was immediately a hustle in their direction.
Immediately, Kazen leaned against the side of the wrecked Lupus, and put his good hand behind his head in proper fashion, keeping his other arm in place as best he could. Hoping they wouldn't force him to put that one up, as well...
The other two immediately followed suit, hoping this would be over with soon.
As the lines of soldiers approached, they were followed by a line of APC's, on which even more rode, and who knew how many were inside.
My god...and we've only seen the tip of the iceberg.
Kazen had seen imagery from correspondants on Macbeth of what Venomian soldiers looked like, but never up close and in person like this. He couldn't readily distinguish their faces, their combination helmet and faceplate gave them an alien appearance. Primarily an olive green with steel trim, their suits were rather armor-like, but seemed light enough to not impede their movement at all. On broad shoulderpads were emblazoned some manner of elaborate design of a gloved fist before a 4 pointed star. They viewed their world behind red eye visors, giving them an almost...demonic appearance. As one got closer to them, he noticed how he seemed to lack a muzzle.
Simian, more than likely...I might be wrong, but I'm willing to venture a guess that this must be one of those 'Elite' squads we heard so much about...
"You!" The leader barked with a distorted tone, probably from his face mask. "Hands up!" His comrades joined him with many a clank of armored feet, that came a to a halt, surrounding them and the wrecked tank.
Seeing as he was aiming those sinister eyes at him, and shoving his heavy rifle in his direction, Kazen could only assume he was addressing him.
"I cannot very well do that when this one is broken." he calmly retorted.
"And she needs immediate medical attention!" Alen added, doing his best to keep his voice from wavering.
"Be silent!" One of the others yelled at him, otherwise ignoring his request.
"Alright, you, put Binds on this one." The leader ordered, motioning to the fellow that just spoke, and pointing to Kazen. Immediately he marched up and produced what looked like a linked pair of small hoops. Forcibly, he yanked Kazen's good arm in front of him and bound it to his broken one. Not seeming to care much for his wounded state with the rough manner in which he did so, incurring even more pain from his fracture.
Kazen did his best to stifle a yelp of pain, not wanting to give the Venomian that satisfaction.
"You, take that one and put it in unit C5. The rest of you, on your feet!" The leader continued to order, and with that, his comrades dispersed and grabbed Alen and Gerard by the scruffs of their necks and pushed them onward, one of them pulling up a still unconscious Secillia and draping her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Kazen's captor also followed suit and pushing him forward with kick to his posterior. Kazen simply stared straight ahead at the waiting armored vehicle, finding himself behind the trooper carrying Secillia.
I'm sorry, Seece...Just consider yourself lucky you weren't awake to have to put up with this...