A/N: Thank you guys so much for the feedback so far. I have gotten a bunch of messages asking for a bit of explanation, and I've answered them as best as I can, but this chapter here will hopefully clear the rest up. If, however, you sill have some questions, please feel free to ask. I will always reply to anyone's message, no matter who it is. I was privileged to see that one of the most talented and respected Star Fox writers, Sanitarium, actually left me a bit of advice (or a rant), and I must say he helped me quite a bit with this chapter here. Like I said, this should hopefully explain some loose ends.
It's always nice to get the other perspective, no?
You guys have a good one, and I'll see you next time!
NASA Kennedy Space Center; October 12, 2035: four years after the first satellite
"Got eyes on another unidentified satellite. Orbiting 50 miles due east of section 42."
"Another one? That's the seventh one in the past two years!"
"I've already got weapons locked on, shall we fire?"
"No, disengage right now. We don't want to make the same mistake we did four years ago."
"Mistake?"
"The very first satellite we came into contact with we destroyed on impulse. We thought it was a Russian orbital surveillance drone at first because of its construction, but once we retrieved the wreckage we instantly realized we were horribly mistaken."
"If it's not the Russians, then who is it?"
"Some kind of alien race, we think. Is that satellite you're tracking the same as the other ones?"
"Um… no, this one is different… It's much larger; almost three times the size of the others."
"Does it have that same insignia on the port side?"
"What insignia?"
"Oh, I forgot. You're new here. Let me show you."
The two human scientists left the room and made their way down to the storage rooms. The first one swiped a card on the receiver, and the heavy door slid open, revealing a large, disabled satellite looking machine. It was sleek, sliver, and had numerous antennae and steel plates covering the cylindrical machine. The second scientist instantly put two and two together and deduced that the crippled satellite was not a product of earthly ingenuity. The first scientist pointed to a faded blue logo; a wire-like sphere with a sliver ring around it, with what looked to be olive branches underneath it. The scientist could faintly read the words Cornerian Defense Force underneath the insignia.
"That… Is that the first satellite?" the second scientist questioned.
The first one nodded. "This was the first one we shot down almost four years ago. Obviously, wherever this one was sent from, they must have a sentient life source there. Because, well, how else would an alien race be able to launch something so advanced and sophisticated? As far as we know, and as much as we want to, there's no way for us to contact this civilization, unfortunately."
"Well, do you think that this satellite was an attempt to get into contact with us?" The second scientist asked, scratching his dark beard.
"I wouldn't bet against it. When we searched this machine the first time, it had countless receivers and antennae that were unfortunately destroyed on impact. We got damn lucky this came down in the Arctic sea, otherwise it would have been completely destroyed."
"Have we at least tried to contact this system?"
The first scientist sighed disappointedly. "We haven't been able to find any useful equipment to establish communications. We actually tried to contact the other satellites that are in orbit, but we can't seem to break the coding on them. We've built a satellite ourselves that we plan to send out there also, but we don't have a specific point of coordinates to program the flight."
"Have you checked this?" the second scientist gently kicked the twisted heap of machinery. "There might be some information still in this."
"Ah, good point. Help me search it."
The second scientist pulled off a metal plate from the alien satellite. He instantly gaped at the sheer amount of plates, chips, and wires in the massive machine. Most of them had been corroded and rusted, and most of the machinery had fallen apart. He dug around some of the wires for a few minutes, then heard something click. He inadvertently disconnected one of the numerous wires, which caused the machine to whir and grind.
"What did you hit, Grant?" the first scientist shouted over the loud grinding.
"Must've bumped a wire. At least we know it still works…" he chuckled.
"Well, yeah, I guess… Keep searching."
Corneria City Suburbs
"Fox! Wake up!" Vixy shouted from downstairs. "Your father needs you!"
After a brief few minutes, Vixy heard footsteps from upstairs, but she quickly realized the person creating the noise was not the vulpine she was paging. Instead, it was a large, grey, purple eyed lupine. He was wearing a white t-shirt with some black shorts, and his grey furred legs glistened in the sunlight seeping in through the front door.
"Oh, morning Wolf," She said cheerfully, not losing her trademark smile. She planted a kiss on the lupine's muzzle as he walked by. "Sleep well?"
Wolf tilted his head, resulting in a loud crack. "Better than I have been," he said, putting inflection on the second part of the sentence. He wrapped his left arm around his chest, trying to loosen it.
"That's good," she made a faint glance to the kitchen. "Hungry at all?"
"Of course," Wolf said with a grin.
"Oh, can you get Fox up for me? Your father needs him for something."
"Ugh, fine," Wolf said before trudging upstairs. There were three upstairs room in the relatively large McCloud household. It wasn't a huge house by any means, but it was still the largest house within ten blocks. The first upstairs room on the left was Wolf's room, the one behind it was an unused bedroom, and the room on the right was Fox's. Fox's door was cracked slightly, and Wolf gingerly stuck his muzzle through the tiny opening in the doorframe. Fox was out cold, lying flat on his back with his head turned to the wall next to him. He was partially buried under a thick blue and white plaid blanket. As Wolf slowly made his way to the sleeping vulpine, he could hear the young fox's breathing against the wall.
"Wakie wakie, Foxie," Wolf hummed, rubbing the vulpine's exposed shoulder. The teenage Fox grunted softly, then rolled over with his eyes partially opened.
"Hmng… Wha…" Fox mumbled, almost sounding like he was in a drunken stupor. Wolf couldn't help but chuckle at the orange vulpine's incoherent murmuring.
"Better get your ass moving, Fox," Wolf stated, patting the kit's head. "Dad needs you for something."
Fox opened his eyes wider and stretched out his arms. He groaned loudly as he sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Ngh… I'll… I'll be down in a sec…" he grumbled. His grumbling came on deaf ears, as Fox glanced at the door just in time to see the tip of Wolf's tail disappear behind the doorframe.
Fox was not the definition of a morning person. As most teenagers do, he loved to stay up late and wake up late. He hated being woken up before 10, and made sure that everyone knew it.
Fox took a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 09:27. Fox groaned and let his head fall back on his pillow. He gazed up at the ceiling, watching as his little model Arwing floated around above his bed.
I want one of those so bad, Fox wished, before finally throwing the heavy blanket off of his legs and standing up. He threw on a pair of blue jeans and a grey t-shirt with a Cornerian sports team insignia stitched onto the left breast. He combed his paw through his white mohawk as he reopened the door to his room and slowly found his way downstairs. The stairs led to the main room, where two couches sat up against the south and east walls, and a decently sized TV sat hung up on the north wall.
The TV was playing the local news, and the picture on the screen showed a standoff between Cornerian police, and what looked to be a team of bank robbers. Fox was usually interested in this kind of drama, but his dad needed him, and he didn't want to keep him waiting. He glanced down at the time on the cable box below the TV. 09:36. Fox grunted as he quickly jerked around and walked into the kitchen.
Wolf was in the kitchen just to the left of the stairs, pounding a plate of what looked to be scrambled eggs. Vixy was at the sink, and glanced over her shoulder as Fox walked in.
"Good morning Fox," she said cheerfully, almost in a song-like fashion.
"Hi mom," Fox replied, stretching his arms again. "Wolf said that dad needed me?"
"Right, he's out in the garage," Vixy pointed at the door to the garage with the pan she was cleaning. Fox swiped a donut from a box on the counter as he walked out into the garage.
"Dad?" Fox looked around the room, but found no sign of his father. He only saw his father's black sports car, and Wolf's motorbike leaning up against the wall. He took a large bite out of the donut as he opened the back door that led into their backyard. Their backyard wasn't huge, but there was a giant oak tree that had to be upwards of 80 feet tall right dead center in the yard; completely shading the entire house and lawn. Fox looked up at the tree and saw something dangling from a high branch. Another long look revealed it to be a bushy brown tail with a white tip, much like his own. Fox shifted his gaze even higher and saw the rest of his father sitting on that high branch, gazing out towards Corneria City. He glanced down and smiled as he heard the teenager's footsteps on the grass.
"Dahahad!" Fox laughed as his father gave him a sly smile.
"Come on Fox, get up here and join me," James shouted, holding his hand downward. It didn't matter; James was still almost forty feet off the ground. Fox polished off the rest of his breakfast, and then found his footing on the massive tree. He grunted and exhaled heavily as he reached for one foothold after the other. As Fox scaled the tree to almost where his father was sitting, and heard a loud crack, and suddenly felt the branch underneath him give way. Fox inhaled and prepared to scream as he plummeted to the ground, but strangely didn't feel the ground getting closer to him. He could only feel a paw clasped around his right forearm. He glanced up to see a pair of dark sunglasses staring at him.
"I gotcha," James assured, lifting Fox almost effortlessly onto the think branch he had been sitting on. Fox was lighter than most of the vulpines in his age group, only weighing a measly 95 pounds, but all of it was pure muscle as he could easily hold his own during school sports. That didn't discourage James, as he could easily pick up the thirteen-year-old vulpine and carry him around like he was nothing. Fox exhaled as he felt the tree branch with his tail.
"Thanks, dad," Fox smiled, making the older vulpine grin.
"Not a problem, kit," James said, rubbing his paw on the top of Fox's head.
Fox looked around at the leaves surrounding them. "Why are you even up here, anyway?"
James shrugged. "To be fairly honest, Fox, I don't even know the answer to that. I was getting tired of fixing up the car and felt like taking a break. I saw that this branch right here was fairly high up and I wanted to see if I could still climb this thing," he smiled, stretching his arms. "I eventually lost track of time once I got here and looked out and saw the skyline of Corneria City."
Fox grinned, then glanced down at the ground from his high perch on the tree. After a few seconds of silence except for the wind rustling the leaves, Fox finally spoke up. "So, you wanted to talk to me, dad?"
"Yes, Fox," James answered almost instantly, taking off his dark shades. His pale green eyes reflected in Fox's, almost as if he was looking into a mirror. "A few years ago, I was given the greatest opportunity of my life, and now that it has finally become relevant again, I think you should be the first one I tell it to."
"You got a promotion?" Fox asked excitedly and impulsively.
"I wish," James chuckled. "However, this is better than any promotion I could ever get."
"What, is it another assignment?" Fox asked, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Fox hated when his father was sent on missions, because it meant that he wouldn't see him for weeks, even months at a time. He always came back unscathed, but Fox always feared that there would be a first time for everything.
James instantly caught the bitter tone from the vulpine and was quick to respond. "No, no, it's not another mission," James spoke quick, patting Fox's back. "At least… not yet…"
Fox cocked his head. "Not yet?" he echoed, somewhat disappointedly, but curiously.
"Hold on a sec, let me finish," James said, consoling the kit. "I have been assigned a mission, but not until the general gives me the ok."
"What's the mission, dad?"
James sighed and looked towards the sky. "You've heard the news over the years about the things we've been finding in space, right?"
"Yeah," Fox replied, implying the 'duh' tone.
James gave the kit a look that could see through concrete walls. "What have you heard?"
"Well," Fox tried to respond, but found himself looking down and folding his ears over. "Nothing… really."
James chuckled faintly, then stared into Fox's eyes with a sly grin. "We're not alone in the universe."
Fox's ears instantly perked up again. "Are you serious?" he asked, even though he knew his father was dead serious.
"Yup. From what the company told me, we found another sentient civilization in the universe. Apparently, these creatures are called humans, and they live in a planetary system that is billions of light years away."
"Wow," Fox gaped, completely awestruck. "Well? Where do they live? What do they look like?" he started his barrage of questions, but James quickly hushed the curious vulpine.
"We don't know very much about them right now. We do know is that their technology is not as advanced as ours. They have cars, airplanes, boats, and stuff like that, but they rely mostly on primitive fuel sources, like oil and nuclear generators for example."
"Do these humans act like us?"
"I would assume no, but I'm not the person that was researching this. All I've been told is the means of transportation for the species, and what kind of military they have. Heh, they're so underdeveloped that they still use kinetic weapons. Can you believe that?"
"Wait," Fox stopped his father from rambling. "What's this mission you were assigned?"
James sighed, gazing into Fox's emerald eyes. "General Pepper wants me and the rest of the Star Fox team to go to this planet when they get a concrete picture of the civilization. They want us to escort Pepper and some other Lylat delegates to the surface to potentially set up communications with the planet, but for all I know that may not be the case."
Those last six words stabbed into Fox like a sharp broadsword. He had watched his father go off into war before, and it was the most painful experience the little vulpine had ever dealt with. He never wanted to see his father leave him for too long ever again; mainly because he was afraid of losing him.
Fox opened his maw to express his feelings against this, but was cut off by a sharp ringing from his father's wrist.
"One sec, Fox," he said calmly, lifting his arm up to his muzzle. "McCloud… Oh, uh, hi Vince. You need something?"
Fox's eyes lit up as his father mentioned Vince's name. Vince was always kind and compassionate towards the little vulpine, and Fox looked up to him as an idol. Fox always thought of the arctic fox as an uncle, and James never argued with him; mainly because James and Vince had been friends for longer than either of them could remember. They were essentially brothers.
James listened intently as the arctic fox's faint words spewed out of his wristwatch. "So, you did decide to launch the big one… Any success? …Oh, really? …But I thought… They can? …Well, why haven't they? …Oh, I suppose you make a good argument there… Yeah, I understand… Heh, yeah I know, you're the scientist… Yup… You want me to bring the little one too? …Sure thing… I'll be there as soon as I can… Yup, see ya."
James turned his head to the kit. "Vince has something he wants to show us… you ready?"
"Yeah!" Fox responded enthusiastically. His ears and tail twitched wildly.
James grunted as he repositioned himself on the giant branch. He took a deep breath, placed his paws on the branch, and flung himself forward. As the ground became closer, James reached out his paw and grabbed onto a smaller branch about ten feet off the ground. He growled softly as he let go and landed feet first on the ground. He turned around to Fox, who was gaping at the athleticism of his father.
"You coming or what?" James smirked, holding out his arms. As Fox attempted to stand up on the thick tree branch, a piece of bark chipped off under his foot, causing Fox to lose his balance and fall backwards. Fox plummeted to the ground at a speed too fast for the older vulpine to react in time for.
Luckily, someone else did react in time.
James saw a grey streak shoot out from his peripheral vision and snatch the young vulpine just as he was about to hit the ground. He rushed over to where the streak had stopped, and sighed in relief as he saw a gray tail wiggling from the ground.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, let go of me Wolf," Fox whined under the heavy lupine.
"Excuse me?" Wolf smirked, rolling over and pinning Fox by his forearms. "I think I just saved your tail a few seconds ago, at least give me some form of thanks."
"Why should I?" Fox grunted, trying to free his arms. "You're kinda crushing me, Wolf."
"Come on, say it,"
"No," Fox said stoically.
"Say it," he repeated with inflection.
"Dad!" Fox shouted. "Tell him to get off of me!"
James couldn't help but chuckle. "Give him what he wants, Fox."
"Say it…" Wolf repeated, sticking his tongue out of his muzzle and inching closer to Fox's face.
"No."
"You're forcing my hand, runt," Wolf chuckled.
"I'm not gonna," Fox reiterated.
"Suit yourself," Wolf smiled, before revealing his lupine tongue completely and licking the entire left side of Fox's face. Fox whined and moaned as he rubbed his face against the ground, trying to get the saliva out of his fur.
"I'll do it again if you don't say anything," Wolf threatened, revealing the tip of his tongue out of the side of his maw again.
"Ugh, fine," Fox groaned in defeat. "Thank you, Wolf," he stated bitterly. "Now would it kill you to brush your teeth once in a while?"
James cracked up at the remark, which only caused Wolf to growl softly and pick the teenage vulpine up and set him on his shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Fox questioned, sounding annoyed. He tried as much as he could, but was unable to break Wolf's hold.
"Making sure you don't end up trying to kill yourself again," Wolf grunted, tossing Fox into the back seat of James' car. He smirked as he slammed the door, and walked to the other side of the black sports car and entered through the passenger side door. James slid in on the driver's side a few seconds later, still chuckling at the pervious encounter. He noticed Wolf's violet eyes next to him and instantly opened his mouth to question.
"I'm assuming you overheard most of our conversation?"
Wolf shook his head. "Not all of it. Just the call with you and Vince. I'm just tagging along to see what's up."
James shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me. Does your mother know?"
Wolf nodded. "She's cool with it, just as long as we're back home before sundown."
"Great," James slipped his dark shades over his eyes and slowly pulled the car out of the garage. He then did a sharp 90 degree turn to the right, and effortlessly made his way around the winding suburban streets and in no time flat was on the highway heading south to Corneria City. Fox laid his arm on the outside of the window, letting the cool spring breeze sooth his fur and trying to dry the rest of Wolf's saliva from his face. His ears flapped wildly as James increased his speed on the highway. After a rather boring and uneventful ten minutes, the monotony of the ride and the sensations of the car bumping got the best of Fox. He slowly started nodding off, and in no time flat was fast asleep in the car.
Kennedy Space Center
"Find anything yet, Grant?"
"I… might have… I just found this huge circuit board. It might be the main data chip. It still works, too."
"Let me see it," the scientist reached for the large, thin, blue plate in Grant's hand. After a few minutes of carefully and thoroughly examining the circuit board, he suddenly gasped.
"This is just what we need. This board should have all the information we need on it."
"What's on it?" Grant questioned.
"Flight data, coordinates, observations, the whole nine yards. This will give us the first actual legitimate example on who, or what, these people are and what they want from us. Not only that, we can back-trace this plate, and hopefully get an idea on where in the vast universe they are."
#####
Grant sat down next to the other scientist, huddled around the dual computer screens.
"Got everything hooked up?" the scientist asked, waking his computer from sleep mode.
Grant shrugged. "Should be… I don't see why it wouldn't work."
The other scientist nodded and began rifling through his computer's hard drive, searching for the information locked on the Cornerian circuit board. He drummed his left hand on the desk as his right hand clicked on every document and stored data on the computer; searching for just the tiniest bit of information.
"Whoever these… 'Cornerians' are, they know their shit," the scientist grumbled. "It's coded well; I can't seem to find its information anywhere."
"Have you tried overwriting the signal it's producing right now?" Grant asked.
"It's producing a signal? How?"
Grant shrugged. "Must be a self-powered chip. Try to override its signal like any other circuit board."
"I can try… but I don't see how that would-" he froze as thousands of folders suddenly appeared and cluttered his screen. Literally thousands of folders were strewn about his desktop monitor, each one with a specific name such as 'Diagnostics', 'Data', 'Power Plans', 'Flight Data', 'Mechanics', and,
"Observations!" the scientist said loud enough to sound excited, but quiet enough so that the entire building wouldn't flock to his station. "Let's see what these little buggers are up to."
Files. Thousands upon thousands of files, each one carrying a specific title covered the monitor. Most had a variation of numbers, which they deduced to be some kind of dating system. The scientist clicked on a file marked '14-070-15:58' and gaped at the amount of words on the file.
"This satellite wrote all of this down?" Grant asked in disbelief. There had to be at least a quarter of a million words on the document. Most of it was written down in a language he didn't understand, but it was still a lot to take in.
"I really wish I could understand this," the first scientist spoke, sounding disappointed. "This could be really valuable information, but either they have a different language, or a really effective coding program. I can't get a grasp at what this machine was taking notes on."
The first scientist backtracked a bit, coming back to the first folders. He opened the folder marked 'Flight Data' and rummaged around that file, desperately searching for much needed information.
"Okay, so it looks like this has a set flight pattern," the scientist stated, quickly combing his hair behind his ears. "If I can decode this information, I can get a set-in-stone point of coordinates. This could help us figure out where we can launch our satellite. All I need to do is…" he clicked on a program on the screen, and the numbers and letters began to rearrange themselves, which made the scientist smile faintly. When the program beeped, signaling it had finished, there was a large set of red numbers right under the words 'mission start'.
"There's our culprit."
