2
The squadron doubled back into the heart of the city on what could have been only a hunch, but at this point, with so many enemy units around anyway, it didn't matter.
Fox had been tailing Falco for awhile now. Strangely enough, the cocky pilot was actually avoiding confrontations with as many enemies as possible. He'd gotten a whiff of something, and whatever that something was must have really mattered.
Enemy resistance was still as steep as ever, with a ship or tank just about everywhere you looked. They weren't through with pillaging the city, not there was much of a city left to pillage regardless. But they had to be coming from somewhere. There had to be a base or a carrier of some sort. Was that the target Falco was jabbering about?
They'd started to pass back over the mountains when a squadron jumped them from behind. Peppy broke left and split-essed for the ground, shaking his assailant and eventually dogging him down later, whereas Falco, temporarily halting his crusade, did a vertical loop and got behind two fighters which were chasing him. He blew them apart with a vengeance.
"Time for a little payback!" he hollered into his headset as the lasers diced up his foes.
"We've got an incoming enemy from the rear," Peppy piped up out of nowhere, "Drop altitude!" Fox complied, not second guessing his squad mate's worried voice. He wouldn't have to after he saw it on the radar himself. Whatever it was, it was massive… and closing fast.
His Arwing dipped down over the last mountain and found itself skimming over the ocean again. Two shafts of water were streaming being him like a trail because of how close the tips of his wings were to the surface. Fox noted that he had to be careful at this point; one slip up and his Arwing would go into the water, probably flipping over due to its speed and crashing horrifically.
The entire cockpit became enveloped in a shroud of darkness as the object eclipsed the sun above. Fox looked up to see nothing but a black blob moving steadily forward until it eventually passed him by and let the sun shine through once more.
"Aw, someone wants to play," an unidentified voice bellowed over the squadron channel.
The ship before them spun around but continued to fly, backwards.
"Guys, I'm analyzing now," Slippy radioed, using some kind of sensor package he'd installed on his Arwing. "That thing's definitely a carrier of some kind."
If it was a carrier, it was the strangest looking one Fox had ever seen. In the center was what looked to be like a standard cruiser; however, on one side it had a single large rectangular box along with two similar looking ones on the other side.
Suddenly the pair of containers flung open, and out came a barrage of homing missiles. Reflexes kicked in, and Fox jammed the yoke to the right, dodging two of the projectiles which had been targeting him. They were unable to correct their course at that speed and crashed into the water below. Meanwhile, the other missiles broke off and started homing in on individual ships of the squadron.
Fox could let them handle it. Right now he had to worry about the other container which had turned out to be a launch bay. Fighter after fighter was shot out of it on a catapult, and one after the other was shot down before it could escape.
Several cannons on the main portion of the ship opened up on him, their massed fire gradually homing in on his Arwing. He could only swerve around them for so long…
"Fox!" Peppy piped up as if out of nowhere, "Evade! Evade!"
He shut his eyes and smashed the yoke all the way to the left.
His Arwing did a barrel roll right into the hail of laser fire, a feat which by all rights should have gotten him killed, but the heavy shielding on the wings ended up deflecting each and every shot with minimal drain on the power systems.
Fox righted himself, panting after just narrowly avoiding a rather abrupt end to his career. He quickly shook the anxiety from his head and put the batteries on the ship into his sights, opening fire at his earliest convenience.
Each laser battery on the carrier was blown right out of its bearings, apparently disarming the enemy vessel for the time being. However, the missile pods opened up again and unleashed a second salvo. Fox hit the dual setting and managed to vape several of the rockets before they could break off and hunt down a member of his squadron.
After evading and shooting the missiles, thus free from pursuit, the other three fighters of the squadron zeroed in on the carrier with all guns blazing, pumping enough energy into its hull to power the ship itself. Deck plates went flying as the lasers burned into the hull, starting small fires which trailed the smoke back into Fox's ship. But still, even after all of this, the carrier was still aloft; it was just too damned big to be shot apart.
There was only one other option, and Fox was eager to take it.
The carrier's launch bays opened up again, another squadron of Venomian fighters launching out from it. Most of them managed to escape, mainly because Fox wasn't worrying about them. His eyes were set on the launch bay itself.
The doors began to close after the last fighter had made it through. He flipped open the safety cap on the top of his yoke and mashed down the button below with his thumb.
A mechanical clunk could be heard as the bay door directly above the main laser flew open and hurled a spherical object out from inside, sending it directly through the open hangar doors. It was a smart bomb, and what better way to blow something up than with a bomb from the inside.
In a split second the entirety of the hangar vanished in a fiery mist and hail of debris. The carrier pitched to the side as the weight, as well as one of the engines, was suddenly discarded from the air frame.
"Who the hell are you guys?!" the unidentified voice yelled over the squadron channel.
Fox squinted as the ship burst into flames before him.
"We're Starfox."
"You'll never defeat Andro-!"
The voice couldn't finish its sentence before the entire carrier doubled over into the ocean and exploded just beneath its surface. Fox juked to the right, avoiding the blast and gout of water, before pulling up where the rest of his squadron formed up on his wing.
Fox exhaled as his ship ascended into the sky, far away from the chaos that was Corneria below.
"We're heading out," he radioed his team, "All aircraft, report."
"Well that was too close," Slippy said, "But I'm ok."
"Everything's A-Ok over here, Fox," Peppy radioed.
"I'm fine," Falco blurted out, obviously annoyed at not having destroyed the target himself.
Fox sighed. His first taste of actual combat… And he'd almost lost two team members and gotten himself shot to pieces. Plus, Corneria was still being pounded into dust, and Andross was rampaging about the system unabated.
Unfortunately it was much too soon to take a break.
"Initiate landing sequence, ROB," Fox said to the ship's avatar.
"AFFIRMATIVE, LANDING SEQUENCE INITIATED. WELCOME HOME."
The Arwings came in from the rear of the cruiser in single file, heading straight for the landing bay of the Great Fox.
It was a fairly large ship, at 890 standard meters long from tip to stern. The Great Fox was a refitted Dreadnaught-class Space Destroyer which was essentially a hull built around two massive T&B H-9 hyper laser cannons which were capable of tearing through just about any starship hull or shield currently in service.
The Great Fox was custom designed my James McCloud, Fox's dad, way back when the squadron was first assembled. Ironically it was ordered from the same company that produced the Arwings, Arspace Dynamics.
The basic design changes included the addition of a rapid landing/launching system for fighter craft as well as an extended strut for the command bridge and sensor outfit. A third engine was installed at the back, and five massive stabilizer fins allowed the ship to fly within a planet's atmosphere. The third, elongated engine and the extended bridge gave the ship an appearance slightly resembling that of a fox, but it turned out to be nearly unnoticeable, so the squadron insignia of a fox with wings was added to the uppermost stabilizer fin on both sides.
But the ship was far from perfect. The two hyper lasers, while extremely effective against larger targets, couldn't track down smaller enemy interceptors, and to make matters worse, the hyper lasers were the only weapons the ship had, meaning that it was almost defenseless against attacks from other directions. The original ship was designed around the premise of being a long range support craft; the only significant change they made was adding some fighter support.
Naturally, this refit wasn't cheap; not even the fact that they were rehauling an old, busted up cruiser managed to circumvent the extreme cost. Fox's father, in turn, had established a low interest extended loan to cover it… The interest was so low that the loan would last for eighty years.
James had died more than a year ago, and since Fox was the only remaining family member he had to take the loan upon himself. It wasn't easy to pay it off doing small odd jobs. That much was for sure.
He eased the throttle down as his ship got closer. When he reached the 30 meter mark, he cut the ion engines and guided the Arwing inside, the ship being caught by a dampening field half way down the tunnel. A connector latched on to the bottom of his ship and pulled it down as the floor gave way to the rest of the hangar. There, the ship was transferred over to its launching rack and was lowered to the very bottom.
After all four Arwings had arrived, the bay doors sealed shut and a hiss could be heard as oxygen returned to the chamber. Fox powered down the G-Diffuser before unstrapping himself and removing the helmet from his head. He punched the canopy release and the glass shield flew up with the distinctive 'whoosh' provided by the hydraulic systems.
Fox slid down from the fuselage to the deck below; he didn't need the ladder to dismount. Helmet snug under his arm, he started walking off towards a raccoon who was leaning against the wall next to the door which led out of the hangar.
"Chuck, Falco's G-Diffuser went nuts down there," he said in a brisk, serious tone, "Make sure it doesn't happen again. We can't afford to look down from the fight."
"Riiight…" Chuck responded, "You know those things are a little off. It's not like I can stop that…"
"Anything you can do that'd help, do it," Fox interrupted him, "I don't feel like losing my entire squadron because of this."
He stormed off through the door, not even bothering to check up with the rest of his squad mates. Falco was next to make it to the doorway.
"Give you the standard treatment, huh?" he asked the technician.
"Yep, he's not in the best of moods apparently."
"Don't worry, I'll straighten him out…" Falco muttered while clenching his fists.
"Cut it out, Falco," Peppy said as he walked by, "He's pretty freaked out right now. It all comes with the job."
"Leaders aren't supposed to get freaked out," the bird rebuked. Peppy just shook his head and kept walking by with Slippy in tow.
The minute the door to his room slid open, he put the helmet on his dresser and fell onto his bed, face first. Fox was exhausted, both mentally and physically.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? he thought. That went worse than I thought… And it was only our first mission…
Fox groaned as he flipped around to lie on his back.
It was tougher than I thought… Too tough. These aren't pirates we're dealing with… I almost lost everybody back there… Hell, I'm amazed I survived myself…
He stared at the rather bare ceiling. Two structural support beams jutted out overhead, along with a single rectangular light fixture that sat right between them. This room was actually the one his father used when he was still alive. That time seemed so distant now… Three years seemed like ten.
It was ironic that he chose this room to stay in. The Great Fox used to have a much larger crew, so there was plenty of space to go around. Much of that space was turned into nothing but cargo holds, filled to the brim with spare parts, fuel, foodstuffs and the like. But even then there were still plenty of places to stay, yet he'd chosen this one.
The room was definitely bare, with nothing but a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a mirror right above it. The room itself was fairly large, thus the lack of furniture gave it a needlessly Spartan appearance.
Fox rolled off of his bed and got to his feet. Slowly he walked over to the dresser and pulled open the uppermost drawer. Inside was a single case holding a pair of glasses.
They were his dad's spare pair of aviator sunglasses. He always wore them when he flew, and sometimes he wore them when they weren't even necessary. Their near constant appearance caused them to be like his trademark; if anyone asked who Fox's dad was he'd point to him and say, "The guy with the glasses."
His dad had worn his good pair when he left on that fateful mission three years ago, leaving this solemn reminder behind.
What would you do right about now, dad? Fox thought.
He shoved the drawer back inside and stepped out the door.
"Man, did you see those robot things that were tipping over buildings?" Falco said as he put his drink down, "They fucking tipped over that one famous commerce building! I saw it!"
"The one with the four spires on top of it?" Slippy piped up.
"Yeah, yeah that one. I swear, that place got torn to pieces…"
The door slid open and Fox entered the pilot's lounge with all eyes bearing down on him.
"Well, if it isn't our infamous leader," Falco said with acute sarcasm, "Sit down and celebrate, Mister Happy, we aren't dead yet."
Fox just shook his head as he leaned on the table with both hands.
"Ok, guys, here's the deal," he said in a solemn tone, "We just about made it out of there with our butts intact. Another stunt like that'll have us flying around in Swiss cheese. We can't afford to take another mission like that…"
"Of course we can, that's what we're here for," Falco interrupted, "We're gonna show the monkeys who's boss. Isn't that right, boys?" he said to the rest of the team. All he got from Peppy was a glare.
"Fox, take it easy," the rabbit said in an effort to diffuse the situation, "We went in unprepared, that's all. And who can blame us? Andross just showed his ugly mug out of nowhere, and Pepper and the rest of them freaked out a bit."
Fox just stood there, staring at the table while looking pensive.
"Just take a seat," Peppy said, "And we can talk over what happened." Reluctantly he agreed.
"So what'd we learn today?" Peppy asked everyone at the table.
"G-Diffusers suck?" Falco blurted out.
"No. Look, we were losing it back there. We were losing formation. If we kept it together, without breaking up, we wouldn't have been caught separately and we could have covered each other's tails. We need to improve on that." He looked over at Fox who still stared at the table with a blank expression. "Isn't that right, Fox?"
"Yeah…" he replied quietly, meanwhile wondering why the hell Peppy wasn't the squadron leader at this point.
"But what now?" Slippy said as if expecting a definite answer that wouldn't come.
"We keep fighting," Fox muttered which elicited the stares of everyone else. "What else can we do? We've got to stop that bastard Andross in his tracks. If we don't, we can kiss Corneria and just about everything else goodbye."
"Not to be the pessimist, Fox, but how do you suppose we do that?" Falco questioned accusingly. But Fox wouldn't take the bait.
"We should consult General Pepper," he said, looking up from the table now. "It might not be like what we're used to, following orders and all, but it'd give us a clearly defined purpose, and better yet we'd know where to strike. It's better than flying blind." The rest of the group nodded in agreement, even Falco after a second or two.
"Ok, we should start figuring what we're up against," Fox said, his voice gaining an authoritative tone, "First of all, those fighters we were fragging left and right didn't even have any shielding on them…"
"Fox, I recognized most of 'em," Peppy said as he went over the enemies he'd seen in his mind, "They're vintage stuff, the old kinds of gear that Andross used to be throwing at us way back when."
"So that means he'll probably have more advanced forces further back in the line, huh?" Fox asked.
"Probably," the rabbit replied, crossing his arms.
"Makes no difference to me," Falco said, "I'd rather earn my kills fair and square."
Fox shot him a piercing look for but a second before turning and saying, "Hey Slip, how'd you analyze that carrier back there?"
"Oh, it was nothing," Slippy said, nearly hopping up in excitement as he was brought back into the conversation, "I just rigged my Arwing's radar through the Great Fox's sensors. They're pretty powerful you know."
"Good thinking, you'll be our analyst from now on," Fox said, "I want you to thoroughly scan every ship we come across. Then we'll take that info and study it to see how we can blow them up. Ok?"
"Yeah sure," Slippy responded with a grin.
"Right, now then," Fox continued, "Peppy, go up to the bridge and get in contact with General Pepper. Get the heads-up and the go-to information from him…"
"Isn't that the squad leader's job?" Peppy asked with a slight grin forming on his face. Fox stared right into his eyes. He knew what the rabbit was doing… and it was working.
He kept from smiling himself.
"Yeah," he said, "But first I need a drink…"
The image of the old war hound appeared on the main screen, his eyes proclaiming worry itself and his voice quick and urgent.
"Good, just the man I wanted to see," General Pepper said, his voice booming over the ship's speakers. "Fox, we need your help…"
Fox just shook his head, saying, "No, General, we're going to help you guys out no matter what." At this Pepper's voice cut out, having nothing else to say, so Fox decided to continue. "We're willing to receive orders from you, General. We figure you know more about the situation than we do, so you can tell us where to go and what to vape."
"Are… Are you trying to spark a contract?" the General asked in confusion.
Fox just grinned. "Yeah, a contract."
"Well… You'd provide military service in turn for what?"
"I dunno," Fox replied, "Maybe a cash reward?"
"Is that all you can think about?" the General replied in an annoyed tone.
"Sure, why not?" Fox continued, "We can set it up based on how many ships and tanks we destroy. It's all simple, really…"
General Pepper closed his eyes and shook his head at the same time while practically yelling, "Yes, of course, fine! Whatever it takes…"
"So it's settled then?" Fox asked, the grin on his face getting bigger with each passing moment.
"Yes!" the General responded in relief.
"Good, then what are our orders… Sir?" Fox immediately replied, throwing a professional tone onto the "sir" that he added to his sentence.
"Well, the situation on the surface looks grim, but the bulk of their forces there have been subdued. The forces in orbit are another matter entirely…"
"So you want us to go in there and help your flyboys out?" Fox asked.
"Essentially… Yes," the General replied.
"Alright then, send us the information on some targets of interest and we'll have them destroyed in no time. Fox out."
He flicked the switch and the massive picture of the General blinked out of existence. Turning, he nodded at ROB, the robot hardwired into the computer, affirming that they were receiving the requested combat information. When he'd made a complete about face, he spotted Peppy leaning between the doorway.
"You scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.