1
Fox McCloud couldn't help but wonder what kind of destruction had befallen the surface of Corneria. If he remembered correctly, which he was sure he did, the majority of the explosions due to orbital bombardment had occurred on the western coast of the third major continent, which could only mean that the enemy had decided to wipe Corneria City off of the map.
Not that it wasn't a bad target, being not only the capital but so massive that it extended for miles and miles inland, the largest city on the planet. It must have been hit hard… Very hard…
He shook his head, trying to keep the images of destruction at bay. He couldn't afford to be so preoccupied now that he was flying in what could be considered enemy airspace.
Fox had chosen to fly in from the ocean, far enough away from the main fleet engagement so that they wouldn't draw attention; not flying through the swarm of capital ships had its advantages as well. He intended to take the squadron over into Corneria City where they could survey the damage and take out any noteworthy targets. Some of his squad mates had suggested carrier aircraft, and thinking this was a good idea himself, he agreed.
Nevertheless, the Venomian Army, lead by Andross, had plenty of ships to spare. Fox didn't doubt that'd he'd encounter some steep resistance, but he'd do what he had to in order to keep Corneria in one piece. Still, the task at hand seemed daunting…
He shook the thought from his head again. Damnit, you're the leader. You've got to keep your cool, he tried to reason with himself in his mind.
It was time to make a systems check anyway. Anything to distract him, he decided. He switched over to the squadron channel before speaking into his headset.
"Open the wings."
After passing through the atmosphere, they'd come under the influence of the wind, meaning that in their current configuration with swept back wings the Arwings couldn't even maneuver. He pressed a button on the console to his right and heard the familiar sound of the servos as they brought the wings forward. A mechanical clunk slightly rocked the ship as the ailerons unlocked and were immediately acted upon by the air.
The low hum of the engine also changed into a subdued whine. This was because the system had automatically switched from an ion drive into a conventional jet drive using compressed hydrogen. Behind him, the glow changed from a cool blue to a bright burning red. The ion drive would only work in space, so the jet power was used within an atmosphere, and though this decreased performance, along with the force of the air itself, the Arwing was still a very formidable craft.
Meanwhile the rest of his squadron had done the same, resuming formation after they had switched flight modes.
Next up on the list was the G-Diffuser, or Gravity Diffuser. Essentially it was the power plant that kept the entire ship running. Without it, there'd be no shields, no thrust, and worst of all no control. The system was practically experimental, having a tendency to malfunction at the worst possible times unless kept in check. Only pilots who could fight, fly, and keep watchful eye could keep the likes of the Arwing aloft and survive to land it.
"Check your G-Diffuser systems," he radioed. Almost immediately one of his wingmen piped up.
"Falco here, I'm fine."
Fox snorted. That was just like him; Falco Lombardi, ace pilot and major pain in the ass. Of all of his team mates, that bird brain gave him the most trouble. Granted he was a good pilot and great to have in a firefight, but when it came right down to it he was brash, hot-headed, and a glory hog. Though he never really stated it aloud, it was obvious he was after Fox for having that number one slot, and he never let it die, even while being subtle.
Deep down in his gut, Fox had the feeling that Falco didn't even check the systems.
"This is Peppy, all systems go," came the next reply, meek and mild-mannered compared to Falco's blunt retort. Peppy Hare was like a mentor, now that Fox's father, James, had been killed. He used to be in the old Starfox mercenary unit, helping Fox create this new one after the old was dissolved in that horrible incident which seemed so long ago. Fox knew he could count on him…
Sometimes, anyway.
"Slippy here, I'm ok."
Now, whenever somebody mentioned Slippy Toad, there was going to be a groan from a good number of people nearby. Slippy was an enigma. Short in stature, big in brains, and a poor hand behind the stick, the only real reason he was on the team was because his dad was the primary designer at Arspace Dynamics back on Corneria. Thanks to him, they were able to take out a contract with the company: in exchange for four experimental Arwings, they had to field test them without bringing significant damage upon them. Of course in a war this was some kind of inane deal, being that stuff exploded left and right, but being the small mercenary outfit that it was, Starfox could use every edge it could get a hold of.
Slippy was quite the novice, but at least he knew what the fighter could and couldn't do. Still, he was going to be a pain. Fox could tell.
A blip on his radar screen suddenly appeared dead ahead. Here's our welcoming party, Fox mused. A few more seconds of flying at Mach 4 brought them into visual range. Six fighters in staggered formation… It was probably just a patrol to find out who the hell had randomly appeared over the ocean.
"I see 'em up ahead," Fox radioed, "Let's rock and roll!"
Immediately Falco, flying on the right, broke off in that direction, and Slippy, on the left, broke off in that direction. Peppy, directly behind, pulled up and soared into the sky. It was their custom formulated attack formation, simply called the Sweep-and-Swoop.
Three fighters would fly side by side low to the ground, sweeping over the landscape and fragging just about everything in sight. Meanwhile, the fourth fighter would fly top cover, swooping down and vaping any fighters that came from the rear of the three below. According to their simulations this tactic worked well to no ends, but this was its first real battle test.
The fighters came into range now, their own exhaust visible over the seemingly endless ocean. Fox put the lead fighter dead in his sights and eased on the trigger.
Three green laser bolts lanced out from below the nose of the Arwing, flying at the speed of light and crashing into the enemy fighter before its pilot could even tell he'd been fired upon. The ship broke apart and hurtled into the water, its smoldering parts doused by the ocean.
It was his first kill. He'd killed someone.
Luckily the moral implications flew over his head at that moment; there were more targets.
The five remaining enemy craft started to break apart once their leader had evaporated before their eyes, but Fox wasn't through with them yet. He stuck another fighter in his sights and let loose, missing with all but one shot which sheared the wings right off of his target and sent it spiraling downwards.
Now the rest of his team wanted in on the action. As expected, fire come from the right, blasting two fighters to pieces in nearly the same instant.
Heh, showoff…
Even Peppy decided to take a crack at it as few shots came from above and cut through another fighter like a hot knife through butter. These unshielded fighters were easy pickings.
Fire came from the left, slamming the last of the six fighters into the roiling waters below. That was Slippy's first kill, and he was probably hopping out of his seat in excitement.
Two more blips came onto his radar, instantly drawing Fox's attention from the horizon. More fighters… Two flights it looked like. Apparently the patrol managed to call for help before their atoms were spread about.
"Slippy, get back here!" Peppy suddenly blurted out, making Fox snap his head to the left. Sure enough, there he was, his engines gunning full throttle towards one of the two opposing formations.
"Damnit," Fox muttered to himself as he broke left. Somehow he knew this was going to happen. He had to save Slippy's worthless butt before he got blasted to pieces. Hopefully the Arwing had enough shielding to see him through a few seconds of dog fighting.
"Slippy, watch out, you've got a bandit on your tail!" Peppy radioed again, his voice of higher pitch signaling anxiety. He was probably more centered on the prospect of losing another wingman than he was on just shooting down his pursuer.
One of the two squadrons had broken off and centered completely on him, one of them breaking off to the side and arcing around, right on his tail. Slippy, being the inexperienced pilot that he was, flew right into them.
"Falco, Peppy," Fox said into his headset, "Take the squad on the right, I'll handle this."
"My pleasure," Falco responded, sounding giddy at the prospect of bagging all of those kills mostly by himself. Fox scowled to himself and centered the crosshairs on Slippy's pursuer.
"… Fox!" Slippy blurted out, "Get this guy off me!"
He restrained himself from yelling "Shut up" into the headset as he zeroed in.
One clean shot was all it took, the enemy fighter only managing to take several missing shots at Fox's wingman before he was reduced to burnt debris.
"Thanks, Fox," Slippy said over the radio, "Thought they had me…"
Uh huh, right, Fox thought, Now get back into formation already! Fortunately he didn't have to say that himself as Slippy pulled back on his own, firing at the still approaching fighters as he went.
Fox toggled his laser system over to dual, diverting power from the main gun into two under-slung weapons which now extended out from the bottom of the Arwing. They had less stopping power, given that they both drew energy from the same G-Diffuser core, but it let him fire more of it off at once, making it perfect for spraying swarms of enemy fighters.
And that's exactly what he did. Not trusting Slippy with taking down all of those ships by himself, Fox lined up his crosshair on one of the tail end fighters and pressed down on the trigger, spraying it with laser fire. Then, slowly, he eased the yoke to the left, dragging the barrage towards the rest of the squadron. By this time they were trying to get a good shot on Slippy, so they didn't even have time to notice the shots and evade before their entire formation was wiped out.
Satisfied that he'd cleared them out, Fox jammed the yoke to the right and flew back into his previous spot in the now dissolved formation.
"Falco, you done over there?" he radioed.
"Heh, yeah," came the response, "Scratch four bandits." Fox couldn't help but grin. That gave him a total of six kills. Meanwhile Fox had nine, thanks to taking out that entire group on his own. Falco wouldn't like seeing those numbers when they got back to their ship, the Great Fox.
In any case, their opposition had been wiped out without a single loss of their own. In fact, they hadn't even been nicked as far as he could tell. Things were looking up for the Starfox squadron.
The black wall of smoke that extended across horizon made a knot form in his gut, whittling his feeling of success down to nothing.
"Form up," he said into his headset, "We're entering Corneria City now…"
Or what's left of it, he thought morbidly.
Gradually the ocean slipped away from below their feet, yielding to a mass of sand and then dirt and rock as they crossed into the mountain chain which lay across the beach. Trees, burnt to a crisp, littered the area, and small seaside cottages looked as if they'd been hit by a bomb. Ironically this wasn't far from the truth.
The four Arwings swept over the mountain range with nothing to hinder their advance. The enemy hadn't responded since their fighters had been destroyed, which could have meant that they had eliminated all of the resistance in the immediate area. That wasn't to say that they'd crushed the entire Venomian Army in one small engagement. Corneria City was a battleground, and there were sure to be a lot more where they came from.
Fox pulled up over one last mountaintop and was the first to see it for himself.
The knot in his gut got tighter.
It was total chaos stretching out for miles and miles. There was barely anything recognizable or beautiful about the landscape now that Andross' hand had come crashing down on it. It was No-Man's Land on a massive scale.
Corneria City had been devastated.
Fox nearly smashed into the tall tower bearing a "WELCOME" banner on it which was leaning over on its foundation; he was too busy staring, mouth agape.
Buildings had been either demolished or gutted. And if this wasn't the case, then the force of the massive orbital bombardment had ripped them from their foundations, bending them over in ways which could only lead to their eventual collapse. Everything was on fire, from burned out vehicles to crashed fighter craft to battle tanks. The smoke plumes they caused could be seen from untold miles away, as the team had witnessed on their way in.
For a time, silence pervaded the squadron channel.
"…This is horrible…" Falco radioed, his voice unusually subdued. It was so bad that it even got to the likes of him.
The laser streaking by was enough to break Fox's gaze on the destruction. An enemy fighter, curiously alone, swooped down and opened up on him; Peppy must have missed it because he was staring himself. Fox snapped to the right, dodging the shots, before turning back to the left and spraying the enemy craft with his own weaponry. It burst into flames and did a lazy spin into the ground, passing right by Fox's Arwing.
"Everybody stay alert," Peppy said, apparently having cleared his mind just now.
We at least he's right, Fox thought as he dodged some fire from a pair of enemy tanks traveling down a road below, Man, they're everywhere…
Another enemy fighter swooped down, only this time being peppered by green lances from above before it could so much as fire. It came apart and crashed in pieces, adding to the already bleak looking battlefield that was Corneria City. It looked like Peppy was ready to do his job.
Fox dove under an overpass and climbed up in time for a pair of enemy fighters to latch onto his tail.
"You've got an enemy on your tail, Fox," Pepper radioed, "Brake!"
I know, I know, Fox grumbled in his head as he brought the Arwing down to an immediate crawl, forcing the two fighters to overshoot him. They weren't able to break away before he blasted them to pieces.
"There's so many of them…" Falco blurted out over the channel, "This is too good to be true!"
"Don't get cocky, Falco," Fox responded.
"Back off, Fox!" Falco rebuked, the unmistakable sound of lasers firing playing about in the background.
Fox scowled yet again. Falco was getting in over his head now that the grim reality of war had passed him by. He was going to kill as many of those Venomian bastards as he could, and nothing could stop him; not even the limits of his own ship.
Something big and red caught Fox's eye as he surveyed the buildings. It looked like a giant robot with tank treads for feet, rolling across the ground without a reason.
And then it punched a skyscraper and sent it tumbling over. The building slammed into an overpass right next to it, kicking up all kinds of debris before something inside exploded, probably a power node, as sparks went flying in all directions.
Fox snapped back to the robot and put it in his sights. He wasn't going to let it get away with that… Who knew how many people were still in that building, surviving the bombardment only to be dashed against the ground. He switched over to single fire and held down the trigger, causing the laser to charge up instead of immediately firing.
The crosshairs went red as the targeting computer locked onto the robot. Fox released the trigger and then pounded down on it again, launching the terrifyingly powerful blast towards the mechanical beast which resided below.
Like the building before it, the robot was hit so hard by the shot that it tumbled over on its side before blowing apart, continuing the virtual storm of falling debris.
"Nice job!" Peppy said over the channel, "Keep up the pace!"
"Right," Fox responded.
Another robot could be seen in the distance, barreling towards another skyscraper in a bid to demolish it. Fox showed no mercy, firing at it the whole way until he overshot it, leaving the burning robot behind in the dirt.
Their glancing flight continued for several more minutes as the enemy forces began to converge on their location noting the evident threat.
As Fox was pulling up from a strafing run on a few tanks, he saw a trio of fighters streak past from the left, followed by a lone Arwing which was firing away at them. It didn't take a second to realize that it was Falco, as usual.
Two of the enemy craft caught fire before coming apart. The third survivor broke to the left with Falco in hot pursuit, leading them both in a zigzagging flight path right in front of Fox's ship. A fourth fighter came in from the left now, tailing the Arwing with guns blazing.
"I'll take this one, Fox," Falco quickly radioed, "Get the one behind me!"
Fox complied, though slowly at first, expecting Mr. Hotshot to deal out enough damage on his own and evade his assailant.
Out of nowhere, the engines on Falco's Arwing cut out along with the lasers he was firing. The fighter he was chasing pulled up and flew away, with Falco unable to pursue himself. Meanwhile the one tailing him gladly caught up and opened fire.
"Damnit, something's wrong with the G-Diffuser!" he radioed in a panic. Fox allowed himself to make a wry grin; looks like he didn't check his systems after all.
Pompous bastard, he thought.
"Fox, chase him down!" Peppy yelled into his headset. The grin disappeared from his face which now took on a concerned frown. It didn't matter how he felt about Falco; he was still a squad mate. And he was in danger. And it was his duty to help him out.
Fox kicked his Arwing into high gear and flew after them. Falco's engines were sporadically turning on and off, gradually bringing him closer and closer to the ground and to the enemy trailing him. With no shields, contact with either the rock or the hard place would spell doom for the cocky pilot.
He arrived directly behind the enemy ship just as Falco said, "I could use a little help here!" into his headset, apparently directed at nobody in particular. Fox dutifully obliged, following them in their next turning arc and placing the fighter smack dab in his crosshairs before he let loose on it.
As the enemy careened into a building, Falco's ship righted itself and leveled out.
"I guess I should be thankful…" Falco muttered over the radio.
Yeah, you kinda should, Fox mused.
Out of nowhere, the Arwing in front of him broke to the right and sped up, engines blaring.
"Wha… Falco, where are ya going?" Fox radioed to him.
"I found the target!" he shouted back, "Try and keep up!"
Somehow that didn't sound like a dare.
"Slippy, Peppy, on me," Fox said to the rest of the squadron, "Let's find out what Falco's onto."