Prelude
Garrison Rylle strode across the bridge that spanned Carson Creek, and tightened his grip on Lysha's hand. The little girl had developed quite a habit of slipping away at the worst times, a trait she likely learned from her older brother. Garrison smiled as they reached the opposite side, the wide meadow stretching out before them. He soon found himself darting after Lysha, who wiggled free and bolted into their favorite spot to unleash their kites.
Garrison loved the meadow. It looked far more amazing in person than he expected. Thirty years ago, before Lysha or even Kidan entered his life, he joined the Cornerian Terraforming Project. It was a good way to avoid active duty service, and the notion of creating a world appealed to him. He played simulation games with similar aims on his computer. While Colony Omicron stretched only three percent of the dead world now, the entire planet was scheduled to be finished in time for Lysha and Kidan to raise their own children there.
The visions of the rolling meadows, the bubbling waters of the stream, and air free of the stench of Cornerian pollution overtook him when he surveyed his handiwork. When the Senate asked for settlers to come, he signed up immediately. His pension and generous grants paid for everything. Lysha grew up away from the problems of Corneria, in a place he only dreamed of.
Lysha giggled as her kite fluttered in the gentle breeze. Right now, the atmosphere and its cycles were strictly controlled under the habitat bubble. Without those strict controls, the tiny biosphere's life support would drift into space. Once the terraforming was complete, the shield would drop and, like other worlds before it, Omicron would support life independent of much human help.
For now, the atmosphere and weather controls remained. Today, Garrison convinced the supervisors to make it good kite weather.
"I bet we can go higher today, daddy!" Lysha grinned as the kite pulled further into the sky, shrinking smaller as it pulled further away.
"A new record, I'll bet." After he finished here, he would meet with Graham and the rest of the planning commission. As always, Graham would want more areas for commercial development. Garrison argued for greater self sufficience. While he was a Cornerian patriot through and through, he also knew colonies like Omicron got charged higher rates because they had little choice. By creating their own sources of revenue and resources, that price would drop.
He wanted to talk to Kidan. Only a few weeks earlier, his son had been assigned to the Endeavour, following a remarkable tenure at the Academy. Garrison respected his son's decision. After all, he'd seen the boy's admiration for pilots like Fox McCloud during the First Andross War, and nothing could change his mind. He wanted to fly. But, after the Aparoid disaster, he wanted to convince Kidan to serve his three year term and return home. Risks were high out there, while Omicron was remote, peaceful, of interest to no one.
"Daddy, daddy!"
He looked up, expecting to see the tiny speck of a kite in the sky.
Instead, a fighter tore overhead, severing the kite from the ground.
The force of the fly-by knocked Lysha to the ground. Garrison ran to his daughter's side and knelt beside her.
"Are you okay, honey?"
"Why are they here?"
He scanned the sky, remembering the reports of the Aparoid hatching devices. He saw nothing, except the earlier fighter and at least one other ship. He started to make out the design of the ships, trying to figure out why they might visit this distant post.
A second later, one of the fighters released a salvo that obliterated the central city, and the exact type of fighter mattered little.
Explosions boomed. Lysha covered her ears, screaming. Garrison turned from one direction to the next, as the squadron leveled the settlement.
Distress signal, he told himself. Have to get help...
He froze as one of the fighters arced in the air, heading in their direction. He jumped to the ground, shielding his daughter's body with his own, knowing full well it would do no good.
The fighter screamed past, not firing once. He turned back in time to see its true target. The round dome behind them vanished in a gigantic fireball, and Garrison was able to scream once before the air left Omicron forever.
xxxxxxx
Moments before the destruction of the shielding device, members of the planning council managed to transmit a distress signal. While brief, it brought a Cornerian scout fleet to the colony's remains. A brief investigation of planetary defense systems indicated the attack lasted only seven minutes, a surgical strike that leveled key structures before taking out the atmosphere.
Garrison Rylle never identified the attacking ships, but the damaged defense computer did. The destruction of Omicron was carried out by four Arwing class fighters. Intercepted radio transmissions confirmed the unthinkable.
Team Starfox destroyed the colony.