AN: We're picking up speed as the story moves into the events of the Lylat War. As always, please feel free to review or PM if you'd like to share thoughts on the story or future chapters. For all of you that have had to stow kit and leg it in the black of dawn, I hope this brings back some memories.
Marching Orders
05:21 Hours, Spring 3rd, 1994 (Local Time) Corneria City, Cornerian City Intergalactic Spaceport(CCIS), Temp Airfield G7
The glow of artificial light bathed the staging area in a harsh white embrace, hulking shadows of various spacecraft looming above the frantic activity on the ground. There was a pervasive hum of hydraulics and spinning up turbo engines, accompanied by the percussion of shouted orders and the clatter of equipment being herded efficiently aboard the many craft.
Following the Venomian deep strike, Cornerian High Command expedited the re-armament of their home guard forces. Lines upon lines of C16 fighters with an array of carbon scoring were being refueled and tallied for reassignment among the Carriers which were even now lifting off with gargantuan majesty in the black of the pre-morning. The bone-chilling thrum of their powerful thrusters belied the sight of so many thousands of tons of metal and machinery inching into the upper atmosphere. With the significant losses that the Venomian blitz had incurred, many fighter wings had to be reconstituted into other squadrons, a stressful task assigned to the officers seen running about the flight line redirecting the exhausted pilots.
With many of the city lights still dark under wartime precautions, the skyline lacked the usual majestic quality that the pristine white and blue towers presented, shimmering with nightlife. Shaking his head, Logan Jones choked back yet another disposable cup of caf and busied himself jotting the manifest for the ammunition pallets piled up around him.
Against the inky expanse of the pre-dawn sky, the Great Fox loomed overhead, flight lights blinking as the figures below scrambled to load equipment and supplies for the war ahead. What would have been a few days of orderly resupply through the CDF Quartermasters was rushed into a breakneck timetable due to the impending action at Sector Y; Only a short walk from the planet, figuratively speaking.
"Logan!"
The human turned, and then jogged over to Falco who had been wrestling with the variable geometry wings on one of the Arwing fighters. Taking up a spot next to him, the two of them pushed, forcing the wing back in a neutral setting to sit flush against the fuselage. The white limb locked into position with a resounding CLACK and the pair repeated the action for the adjacent wing. They stepped back, and watched as a powered clamp descended from the Great Fox's open launch bay overhead, latched onto the chassis, and lifted the starfighter into the trellis above in which the others were interred. In the glow of the overhead launch bay, they could see 8 fighters now locked into their moorings. Two flights of 4 fighters each, combining to make an irregular squadron. The X-02 Interceptors stood out, compared with the Arwings of varying color and carbon scoring denotations which would be cleaned up and re-painted en-route.
Fox had locked in his starfighter where his father's once hung.
Lombardi nodded approvingly as the fighter locked in place up above them, and clapped Logan on the shoulder. A hydraulic warning signal blared somewhere in the background.
"Thanks man, I'm gonna go help Fox with the fuel cells."
"Sure thing, I'll square away the rest of these."
The avian stalked off into the dark, stepping over a power line haphazardly thrown across the tarmac. Logan busied himself once more allocating the ammunition as his thoughts drifted.
The previous day felt like a lifetime ago. There had been no time for sleep, and after rallying with the other CDF forces the gang had immediately begun preparations for heading to the front. Logan was more familiar with the unreasonable timelines that military life demanded, and carried the team through their caffeine abuse and forced sleep breaks; He had to enlist Lombardi's help to force McCloud to take a 45 minute snooze, the vulpine finally seeing reason when the human teen argued he'd risk slipping up during their pre-deployment checks when attention to detail was most necessary. Peppy had approved of the action, having forced James to do the same; Ever the senior enlistee's duty, no matter the theater of war.
Using the old army tradition of 'steal anything from a branch that's not yours,' he'd commandeered a small transport hovertruck and cleaned out the UNSC arms from the CDSS firing range. Their prospect of future schooling as of yet vague, the human teenager imagined they could put the munitions to better use. The only other channels for UNSC weaponry were currently on the charon-class frigate that his brother was stationed on, and they needed every round they had.
Logan grunted as he tugged free a hardcase, counting the MA5C rifles inside, before sliding it back and moving to the next hardcase in the pallet. No time for functions checks on their schedule, he'd have to deal with the headache of parts and spec when there was time to do so. Of the weapons he could scrounge after their little ground action, he chose the reliable MA5Cs, the BR55's, and the M90 CAWS shotguns. The use of kinetic arms had a few advantages, but not enough to compare the submachine and pistol equivalents with their optical-laser cousins that were stocked in the Great Fox armory. Still, he found enough of the rifles that the team could be serviced should it be required, and Lylat had no equivalent for the trio of M90 shotguns he brought onboard. Peppy had remarked that they would be useful for repelling boarders; Just for that Logan had put aside one of the CAWS for the old hare, with a box of shredder shells.
Among the other crates and hardcases, Jones began to tally the Lylat small arms with their rack numbers. Katinan M188 Laser Carbines and M855 Submachine guns with their grey and blue finish, Eladard Exports heavy blasters, drop crates of grenades and power packs for the armament. He whistled at the brand spanking new finish on the equipment, thankful that the brass was on such good terms with the mercs. The weapons had been dropped off via General Pepper's attaché, along with a briefing that Fox and Peppy attended. While they received the warning orders for the team, the others kept busy preparing for lift-off.
The human grinned finding a pair of Katinan L115 Sniper Rifles in dull green, locking up the hardcase and jotting a memo for Lombardi. Chances are only one of the rifles would make it to the armory and the other would somehow end up in the Avian's quarters painted blue and red.
At least he won't put those chrome studs on the thing, Logan groused. He still didn't understand the street bird's fashion sense.
Satisfied with the small arms manifest, Logan toggled the hover carts and pulled them along to the loading bay. Provisions, water, fuel cells and other equipment were lined up awaiting their turn to be sorted into the cargo holds under the watchful eye of O'Donnell. The lupine waved, and the human returned the gesture, certain now that Fara was likely directing the cargo inside the ship to what compartments they needed to reach. No one was sure when exactly things changed between the fennec and wolf, but they made an effective pair.
Walking over the damp tarmac (a coolant spill from one of the passing cargo haulers), Logan spotted Fay and Bill having their heart-to-heart. The Bulldog had volunteered to fill an absence in the 105th 'Bulldogs' squadron deploying to Katina, and was already dressed in a spare flight suit with the unit patch torn off in respect for the late owner. Fay was murmuring something to the young canine, and Jones averted his eyes and walked away to afford them some privacy. It was hard splitting from loved ones, no matter what duty demanded.
He called over to Slippy struggling with a sensor package shrink wrapped and taped up on a hovercart, hefting the gear with the toad to the adjacent cart waiting to be loaded into the launch bay. He clapped the thankful toad on the back.
"How are you holding up, Slip?"
The amphibian shivered in the cold air, drawing his jacket tighter about his rounded shoulders. There was engine grease on his favorite cap, and the weariness ringing his round eyes was almost as dark.
"I don't know, Lo." He spoke lowly, almost drowned out by the background whine of engines and fuel pumps.
"We're heading to the frontlines and it's just... It's just so real you know? We're leaving homework and weekends behind, and I... well..." He meandered off, staring out at the massive shape of a Destroyer taxiing down a runway.
Logan crossed his arms and stared up at the flickering floodlight nearby, "You're feeling the pre-fight jitters, huh?"
"Yeah." The toad laughed, a tinge of hysteria in his throat. "I can't be scared, I won't, but there's so much at stake, and I don't want to screw up again. I can't help it, I just keep thinking about how much flight time we have before the lasers are flying and... well... yeah."
The human nodded, scraping his heel across the tarmac.
"Try to keep yourself busy, don't leave time to think." He spoke up remembering the advice of a Gunnery Sergeant he'd once overheard, "If you run out of work, make some. Square your kit away, double check everything, clean it if you have to. Keep your hands busy, and get some rack time when you can. Everyone hates waiting for the fighting to start, but you can do something constructive, and know that you did everything you could before we make contact with the enemy."
His eyes flicked over the shadows of running Cornerians, pilots and technicians rushing to last minute duty rosters.
"Whatever happens, you'll feel better knowing you spent the time to prepare rather than struggle with nerves. I know it helps me, at least."
Slippy looked up at him curiously, and then laughed without his heart in it.
"Thanks Lo. I guess even you get nervous sometimes."
The human teenager smiled wryly, "Of course I do. I'm completely surrounded by aliens."
The pair laughed genuinely that time, and parted into the night. Logan spotted a familiar grouping of ears drifting closer atop a hover-transport, silhouetted by the artificial lights. He jogged over and waved as a small furry missile leapt into his arms.
"Big bro!"
"Heeey." Logan smiled warmly, adjusting his hold as Abby curled up against his shoulder. Kyle and Catherine Lynx stepped off the transport wearing air force windbreakers in CDF navy blue. The older Lynx adjusted his glasses as his Calico wife rushed forward to hug the human boy.
"We were so worried about you two," Catherine's voice warbled, the distress of the past night and day evident. In between the evacuation of CDSS and their scramble, the Lynx family had only gotten secondhand reports of their whereabouts until they called in following the consolidation of the evac route.
"I'm sorry," Logan really did look apologetic, "We would have called in sooner but time was running out. I should have let you know."
Kyle clapped him on the shoulder shaking his head, "We're just glad you're both safe. I knew you'd be wily enough to get Miyu out safely, but you need to be in one piece too."
The human said nothing, swallowing a lump in his throat. Abby busied herself playing affectionately with his ear.
"Have you heard from your brother?" Catherine asked.
"He's still on the Myrmidon, I'm going to try and contact him on a UNSC band when we break atmo."
Catherine bit her lip, stroking the human boy's shoulders as she held him.
"I wish you weren't going."
The unspoken fear the family had carried for a while surfaced.
Wartime CDF procedure waived age limits within 4 years of their age of majority if the young one was a volunteer; It was a holdover from a bygone age that saw apprenticeships in the green collar trades. With so much of the gang joining the ragtag remnants of the Star Fox mercenary team, there were similar talks going on across the tarmac as they spoke with family either tearfully, shouting through a portable comm, or all the shades of emotion in between. It was an agony that could never be salved, the fear a parent feels for their offspring heading towards danger.
"I wanted you and Miyu to grow up together, to see the city Kyle and I grew up in ourselves, to just be kits like anyone else. I wanted to bring you two out to Catchpole Station for soda by the pier, and Central Park for a picnic on your birthday." She bowed her furred head, "You shouldn't have to risk your lives like this, I can't... I can't imagine losing either of you..."
Logan closed his eyes at the sound of familiar pawsteps sidling up alongside him, a familiar speckle-furred arm wrapping around him.
"We'll come back Mom," The tomboy's voice was unusually somber, "Count on it."
Catherine and Kyle hugged their daughter fiercely, kissing her cheeks and whispering their well wishes. The calico mother cat gently took Logan's furless face in her paws, looking at him with watery eyes.
"Please come home to us."
He stared into her eyes, so different from a human's yet an echo of the familiar blue he'd come to adore. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and for a moment the noise of the airfield seemed to fade away.
"We will come home, I promise."
The feline blinked back her tears and kissed his cheek.
"Good luck, son."
Logan clenched his jaw, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. He relinquished Abby to Kyle's comforting arms, and at the sound of a klaxxon hefted both his and Miyu's duffel bags from the hover-transport.
"Catch you later," Miyu said to their family with shimmering eyes. Before they could second guess themselves, the pair turned from the forlorn waves goodbye, and strode towards the personnel lift clamped onto the Great Fox docking port. Falco was likewise striding over, a scowl remaining from his comm call, with Katt wearing an oddly distant expression. Fay was waiting for them at the lift, her sleight shoulders made more child-like by the spill of her fluffy white ears. There were wet trails down the soft fur of her cheeks, and a Cornerian rose clenched in her paws.
They rode the lift to the ship in silence, each with their own thoughts. How many times Logan had found himself boarding a transport or Pelican dropship never knowing the destination, or anxious he'd reach it at all. Seeing his friends wrestle with that uncomfortable feeling twisted his gut.
They boarded the airlock. Listening to the cycle of atmo pumps and decontamination subsystems, the grind of the lift detaching echoed behind the closed portal. Soon enough a green light flashed, and the inner airlock slid open. The group dropped their personal effects in one of the crew cabins for the moment, heading down the CIC hallway towards the bridge.
The command and control center of the Great fox looked much different than the previous tour. Consoles were alight, and Peppy was manning the navigation console with a holographic image of their orbit vector spelled out in brilliant green. Fay marched over and set her rose along the Comm console, slipping on a headset. The hare paused as he turned a somber look at Miss Spaniel's brave expression, and then keyed her into the Tactical Communication Control.
"Tac Comm Control this is Great Fox actual, requesting clearance for lift off." The bell-like tones of her voice betrayed none of the tears she'd shed.
"Great Fox Actual, wait one additional. We have two more birds ahead of you in the lineup." Came the static-dusted reply.
Fox was seated in the captain's chair, using the terminal to race through the pre-flight checks that he'd mastered on his father's knee as a kit. The matted fur around his eyes spoke of how little sleep he'd actually gotten. Fara was sitting nearby at the LADAR console, and Wolf adjacent in the point defense controls. Even the supposed safety of Corneria's orbit required that post manned. The rest took seats where they may, and Logan toggled the ship manifest and straightened up with the ghosts of Tribute echoing in his memory.
"Loading procedures complete, mid-deck and flight deck platforms stowed, Captain McCloud."
The vulpine looked at him, and Jones stared back evenly. There was nothing more he could say. He had no platitudes to offer to curb the sting of James McCloud not sitting in that very chair. He could only address him as a man, and an officer that they trusted to lead them into the fray. The helm had gone silent, with not a soul looking at the captain with anything but absolute belief in their eyes.
Fox stared, and nodded.
"Star Fox team, prepare for lift off."
The reports began to flow in from each of the consoles, the myriad of voices stern despite their lack of sleep. The adrenaline was setting in now. There was an earth-shaking rumble as the great generator spun up, and the powerful thrusters of the Great Fox began to glow.
"CDF Weather station reports clear, TCC has us next in queue." Fay's voice rang through the helm.
Peppy began flipping the ascent switch list, "Activating fuel cells, main reactor online." The purr of the engines made the hare smile, closing his eyes as if he might awake next to his friend one more time.
Wolf keyed in his mic as he roved across the external cameras. "Ground control, please verify all personnel have evacuated launch pad 102, field G7."
"Chill-down of propellant transfer lines, liquid anti-matter is reading stable." Katt called out from her console.
"Comm check, Comm check. LADAR antennas are reading fully aligned, signal five by five. Slippy can you run a test on the vac-seals?" Fara glanced away from her station at the toad.
"They're reading green! Main hangar and all airlocks secure!" The toad's cheerful voice was accompanied by affirmative notifications on the bridge HUD.
The whine of the in-atmo engines filled the air, as the watercolors of the early dawn spilled over the darkened skyline. Amber and periwinkle shone across titanium, fur and skin alike, causing the gang to blink with appreciation for the long-awaited morning light.
"Tac Comm Control this is Great Fox actual, Captain McCloud speaking." Fox leaned back into the command chair, gazing up at some distant star his father might have once steered by.
"Go ahead Captain."
"Great Fox ready for lift off."
"Acknowledged Great Fox actual, proceed to orbital vector 115. Good luck."
"Appreciated TCC. Great Fox out."
As if gripped by a mighty hand, the hulking shape of the dreadnought shifted with atmospheric thrusters. The golden glow of the powerful tri-baffles jutting from the massive engines bathed the airfield's immediate surroundings in an almost-daylight. Slowly but surely, the ship began to angle into the sky as pebbles and cables thrummed under the incredible power lifting so many thousands of tons.
Somewhere down below, Logan thought to himself, was his feline family watching them take off. He looked across to Miyu, who met his eyes in the amber light shining through the armored viewports. He reached out as the G-diffusers kicked in, mitigating the inertia but still pushing them noticeably back into their crash restraints. Miyu palmed his hand and held it firm.
All around them, like decorations drawn along wires, were carriers and frigates lifting into the endless sky above. A rain of flight lights and afterburners, cascading through the vanishing dark of the morning light, tracing their way to the fleet overhead.
In the city below, those that turned to look up at the unique dreadnought might catch the brilliant crimson of the Star Fox emblem shining in the budding sunlight against beige battleplate. Paws pointed skyward, and cries went up as even the beleaguered military personnel paused to feel something like calm at the sight. Hope whispered through the ranks, as the aces that had turned the tide of the invasion were aboard.
Fox McCloud shut his eyes, feeling the dawn's light warm his muzzle. There was no more time to hesitate, he was in command now. He thought of his father's face, even now tinted slightly by memory, and the loving words of his mother before he left. So many were counting on him, on all of them really. He needed to be their rock, unshakable in confidence and sharp as a blade.
Soon the outer cameras darkened as the burn of atmosphere ebbed away, and the vast starry expanse of space opened up before them. They were on their way to the front lines, to confront the forces of Venom in a war that spanned the Lylat System.
"Set course for the Sector Y nebula." Fox ordered sternly.
"Aye Captain," Peppy spoke with a hitch in his throat, keying in the coordinates to the navicomputer.
The Great Fox picked up speed, and sped away from the gentle blue orb of their home.