5
"I don't like it, Fox," Falco said with a menacing glare, "I don't like it at all."
"Far be it for me not to like it either, but those are our orders," Fox replied.
"Forget orders," Falco shouted, "Why don't we just go out there on our own and kill the bastards? Is it really that hard to fly out there by ourselves?"
"Actually," Peppy stepped in, "It is. You don't go flying against an entire enemy fleet with four little Arwings, you know." Falco just snorted and looked away.
"In any case," Fox continued, "We'll end up attaching ourselves to their squadron, and that means we'll be working on their schedule." The group got across the effect of a moan without even doing so. "I know, I know, we'll be flipping our hours around, but it'd be better if we got used to flying with them. According their commander, Captain Kadel, they go out on training flights every other day while not in combat."
Fox didn't feel so good about this; even Peppy was looking at him with a mix of confusion and detriment.
"We'll need to know who's who by then… We'll probably be given flight designations too…"
"I hate formality," Falco piped up, getting back into the conversation. "There's no point in spouting numbers into your radio while you're being shot at from all directions."
"I know what you mean, Falco. After all, I was in the academy for some time," Fox said.
"Hell, I can see why you left it," the bird muttered, looking away again.
"Lucky for us," Fox said as he put down the empty cup of processed sludge on the table, "Their next refresher run is tomorrow. We have some time to adjust at least…"
His voice trailed off as he remembered what he had planned. He looked over at Slippy who immediately looked right back, as if expecting an off the cuff order. "Slippy, how good are you with rigging that simulator?" Fox said, suppressing a grin.
Slippy let his shine for all to see.
"Man, this is too easy, Slip," Falco said over the short range radio, "Bring out those interceptors already!"
Fox smiled to himself inside the cockpit of the flight simulator. Slippy might not have been an A+ pilot, but he sure did know his stuff when it came to just about anything technological. Using data ROB had recorded during the lengthy briefing, along with the in-fight sensor data he'd picked up during combat, Slippy programmed all of the enemy ships seen so far into their flight simulator aboard the Great Fox.
Of course they'd used this simulator countless times before during peacetime. The same kind as they used in the academy, it was the next best thing to hunting down pirates or bounty hunters, and infinitely better than hauling cargo which the team was sometimes reduced to.
Now, with the enemy they'd be facing included in it, the simulator became an invaluable tool.
The team had been spraying digital mockups of Invader Is for more than fifteen minutes. It wasn't even that interesting; the enemy craft gave Starfox the easiest job they'd ever seen…
Until they massed into a large six-fighter flight and targeted one Arwing at a time. But that would be hard for the enemy pilots to coordinate together, meaning that it wasn't very likely they'd see this tactic very often if at all.
The smart bombs that the Arwings fired worked extremely well against these ships. Inside each bomb was a computer which used an IFF system to detect where enemies and allies were, and it would explode accordingly. Long tendrils of explosive energy would be directed out at only the ships designated as hostiles, making it a very useful weapon in a tight dogfight. Of course, the IFF system could be turned off completely, turning it into a normal albeit powerful explosive.
Smart bombs were in painfully short supply, so the Starfox team made a concerted effort to limit their use.
"Ok," Slippy said as he mashed buttons on a portable computer he'd brought into the simulator with him, "I'm spawning a squadron of Invader IIs, heads up!"
The black, angular craft appeared out of thin air, their exhaust brightening up the scene almost immediately. The squadron appeared high and dry, about two kilometers above and in front of their opposing Arwings. Over a bleak, flat landscape, the stage was set for their battle.
Fox had the team regroup into a diamond formation before going head to head with the fake Venomian units.
"Let's see what they've got," he said over the radio. "Eyes sharp for anything they might try to pull on us."
They pulled it already. The whole squadron of twelve fighters broke off into six pairs, three pulling up and three peeling down. Eventually they leveled out, forming a wall of resistance rather than just a line.
Well that's an interesting tactic, Fox thought, Let's see how they cope with our lasers.
"Guys, gear up, we're going through the middle," he said.
"You know," Falco responded, "If this were a real fight I'd have called you crazy and broken off already."
Fox was taken aback. That didn't sound like something Falco would say.
"… Really?" he replied in a muted voice.
"Pfft, nah," the bird responded as his Arwing shot forward.
"Damnit, Falco, get back here!" Fox yelled after his comrade.
"Through the middle!" he shouted back.
Falco put on quite the show. Being out in the middle of nowhere, faced with twelve fighters bristling with guns, he did some fancy evasions and firing sprees on his approach, but by the time he'd eliminated five of the Invader IIs his shields had collapsed and his simulated Arwing was being reduced to simulated ashes.
Fox just shook his head as Falco's ship exploded in front of him. He switched over to a private frequency between only Peppy and himself before asking him, "Would it be bad if I said 'I wish that this was real'?"
"Heh, knock it off, Fox," the old hare responded, "We've got a job to do."
"Right," Fox said as he switched over to the squadron wide channel. "Everyone who's still alive, on me. We're going to break through to their right flank."
Fox broke to the right with the remaining two members of his squadron on both wings. By now the Invader IIs had closed to less than a kilometer and were opening up with a storm of red laser bursts. The Arwings slipped between this hail of fire, occasionally barrel-rolling to take advantage of its defensive advantages. The Venomian ships were unable to take the Starfox team down with brute force alone, so Fox decided that it was time to show them what real piloting was all about.
He stuck the fighter in the corner within his crosshairs before tapping the trigger, firing off a single shot. He watched as it scored a direct hit on the Invader's cockpit and made it explode into a sphere of simulated fire. Satisfied, he rolled to the left and put another fighter in his sights and let loose. But the first shot only caused it to bounce around off course, so he fired again, with the same effect.
Damn, they really do have better armor, Fox thought as he pulled up to avoid crashing into an enemy ship. Time to use the bigger guns. He flipped a switch on the simulator's console which activated the dual lasers that were supposed to be beneath the Arwing and pulled back on the yoke in an Immelman Turn.
With Peppy and Slippy managing to keep up, he brought his Arwing back around only to see the remaining six Invader IIs doing the same maneuver. He was about to tell his team mates to fire at will when the enemy line suddenly evaporated. They broke off in all directions, not heeding their paired doctrine.
"Slippy, what the hell is this?" Fox radioed in confusion.
"Dunno, Fox," the toad replied, "All of the tactics were supplied by info ROB got from the briefing. I'm not sure what they're up to."
Fox watched as one Invader darted up, another down, another slightly to the left, and another slowing down and falling back.
Before he could realize what was going on, the Invader that had gone down shot up right between the formation of Arwings. Slippy, in a panic, broke off to the left, and Peppy swerved back and forth in reaction to the ship's passing.
Now the Invader that had gone up came crashing down, right on top of Fox's Arwing. A chill went right up his spine as he recalled the battle over Corneria, recognizing that this was exactly what happened before.
With sparks and flashes darting across his canopy thanks to the assailed shields, Fox pushed forward on the yoke, putting his ship in a nose dive. Now, with the Invader behind him still firing, it was one of the worst possible positions he could be in.
That was until he pulled back on the stick which brought the sleek Arwing right back up just before it crashed into the ground, causing the less maneuverable Invader II to overshoot him into the rocky landscape.
I hope Andross' pilots are always this gullible, he thought grimly before catching sight of his two remaining wingmen above. He couldn't tell who was who from this range, but judging by who was being chased and who was in the process of chasing, it didn't take long to figure it out.
Pushing the throttle all the way to the console, Fox came in right below the Invader II that was tailing Slippy. A hail of dual lasers tore it to pieces… Simulated pieces, anyhow.
Slippy started saying, "Was that Fox?" when yet another Invader came in from above him. Fox only managed to take a brief glance at it past the other Arwing's engine exhaust before his own ship rocketed into the sky.
"Fox you'd better get back down here," Peppy radioed in a heightened voice, "This guy's surprisingly good!"
"Good?" he said into his headset, but there was no reply. Shaking his head, Fox did a flip to face the two other Arwings.
His flip got his eyes there in time to behold Slippy's fighter going up in a ball of flame. What the hell?! Fox thought hurriedly as he leveled his ship and put the Invader II in his crosshairs. His shots were too late, and the enemy ship veered off to the left, placing Peppy in between them.
"Any ideas, Fox?" Peppy radioed as he opened fire on the rear of the juking aircraft.
"I wish I did, this guy is crazy!" Fox replied.
"But he's not a guy, Fox."
He squinted at the shape of the fighter as it gracefully dodged all of the lasers Peppy was throwing at it. No, he's not a guy, he thought with derision, He's a bird!
"Damnit, that's Falco!" he hollered into his headset. Somehow his wingman had switched craft and was now gunning for the enemy; nothing else could explain those maneuvers, or the stupid charge he'd done earlier.
"Take it easy!" Peppy hollered back, "We can take him!"
"Right, keep giving him something to think about. I'll chase the bastard down."
Fox left the throttle right where it was; no sense in breaking the handle to gain speed he would never get. Instead he hit the left foot pedal which acted like the rudder. With wings vertical, it put the Arwing into a lazy arcing dive. Fox pulled back up after he'd passed by Peppy and was directly beneath the enemy ship. Sticking the Invader II right between the boxes of his crosshairs, Fox let a grin slip across his face.
Let's see how you like this.
Lasers blazing, the Arwing came up right from under the Venomian craft, catching it in a cross fire. It flipped over on its back, giving the cockpit a clear view of the Arwing approaching from below. Using this perspective, it managed to dodge several shots from Fox's attack.
But it couldn't dodge them all, especially while Peppy was also firing from the rear. A laser bolt from the rabbit's Arwing smacked into the Invader's right engine, knocking it off course just enough to point where one of Fox's lasers hit it square in the cockpit. In the ensuing frenzy, the Invader II was diced into nothingness.
Fox brought his Arwing level and eased down on the throttle, allowing Peppy to catch up from behind.
"I'm gonna kill him, I swear," Fox said between clenched teeth.
"Hey, you gotta admit he was pretty good…" Peppy replied.
"But all he did was shoot down Slippy."
"Oh yeah, good point…"
"You know," Falco hollered across the row of simulator cockpits, "I always wanted to do that."
"Do what?" Fox asked with a hint of irritation as he pushed up the glass shield which doubled as the view screen.
"Shoot you guys down, of course," he replied with a wide grin. Fox just glowered at him for a second before snorting and hopping out of the simulator. Peppy did the same, having some trouble dismounting thanks to his age, much to his own dismay.
Falco, after getting out, started walking towards Fox, keeping that grin on his face while stretching his back.
"So," he said, "Those Invader IIs are no match for an Arwing. We should have an easy time."
"And what makes you think that?" Fox inquired while crossing his arms.
"You wouldn't have shot me down otherwise, Fox," the bird said in an arrogant tone, "Plus I probably would have bagged the rest of you."
"I hope you're not planning on pulling a turn-coat stunt like that during a firefight, Falco," Fox said in a voice so serious that it compared to Falco's on the opposite end of the spectrum.
"Pfft, wouldn't be any point; it'd be way too easy."
Still wearing that grin of triumph, Falco made his way out of the simulator chamber. Peppy stepped over to where Fox was standing and placed his hands on his hips.
Fox shook his head, saying, "He's hopeless."
"Yep," Peppy replied, "But he's a damn good pilot. Evaded me for quite a bit…" The rabbit's voice trailed off as his face gained an expression of realization. "Wait, where's Slip?" he said before spinning around to take a look at his wingman's simulator. Fox turned as well, catching sight of the silent machine with its canopy still closed. They started walking towards it, not really knowing what to make of it.
"Slippy?" Fox hollered, cupping his mouth, "You ok in there?" There was no response, so he kept going until he was right next to the simulator itself.
Fox hit the canopy release button and the glass shield flew up, revealing a fully conscious frog who was still holding tightly onto the controls. Slowly his head panned over to face his leader, frowning as he did so.
"I'm dead, Fox," Slippy muttered, his expression a mix of fear and sadness.
Fox suppressed a wince after taking in the reality of that short statement. "Yeah, I know, Slip," he said in a sullen tone, "I know."
Due to their new assignment, the Starfox team had to shift its hours according to the new unit it was merged with. They'd been accustomed to keeping their time based on what time it was over at Corneria City, which for all intents and purposes was the basic time the entire Cornerian fleet used, but individual commanders could bend this schedule at their leisure. This squadron that they were being assigned to had done just that, shifting its entire timeframe forward ten hours. Exactly why that Captain Kadel had chosen to do so was beyond Fox, but he had little say in the matter. In fact he had none at all.
He was tempted to bring up another talk with the gruff Cornerian pilot, hopefully setting some more things straight, but Fox decided against it. Kadel was your average leader, which in the C.S.C wasn't saying much. While in the academy, Fox had found that they had an unwritten rule stating that authority was determined by intimidation, a concept which made little sense to him; what was the point of leading friends into battle if all you did was threaten them the whole time? Or did they even regard their wingmen as friends?
In any case, Kadel had the mark of a fine-tuned cog in the Cornerian war machine. His voice was stern and deep, commanding the respect and fear that their officers so longed for. His figure in itself was intimidating. Being both tall and muscular, he almost gave the impression that he should have been a foot soldier rather than a pilot.
Fox knew his time with this Captain Kadel would be hell; he didn't even need to talk to him for more than ten minutes to find that out. Kadel was just as hot-headed as Falco, only he bellowed out orders at the same time, expecting everyone to follow his lead without so much as a second thought. Being a leader himself, this would naturally cause friction between them, but the fact that he was as self-centered as Falco only worsened the situation.
It wasn't going to end well.
But that could wait. He had to get some sleep, if he even could. The entire team had to hit the sack early just to catch up to the 201st's schedule, which for now was the only evident problem that was facing them. Fox saw this as a blessing in disguise; the fights between Falco's rebellious spirit and Kadel's iron fist could wait.
"Right, well," the Captain barked over the squadron channel, "Since we've got four new units here, and since I don't really like the presence of these four new units, I'll split them into their own group aside from Alpha and Beta."
Fox sighed as he sat in the cockpit of his Arwing, lazily grasping the yoke. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, but that was the least of his worries. His team had rendezvoused with the 201st Interceptor Squadron at the designated waypoint just in time, which he knew gave Kadel the impression that they were slackers.
"You see, mercs," the Captain continued, saying the slang term for mercenaries with some spite in his voice, "Here in my squadron we've split it down the middle into two flight groups. Your sudden appearance is messing that up, so I'm just gonna give you your own little group to get you out of the way."
Well it could be worse, Fox thought, He could have told us to drop and give him twenty in our seats.
"So, boys," Kadel radioed to the rest of his squadron, "What do you think we should call these folks?"
"Gamma Flight, sir!" one pilot called out.
"Zeta Flight, sir!" another said, his voice just as clear cut and professional as the last one.
This was ridiculous. Just by hearing these responses Fox could tell the effect that this intimidation had on the flyboys of the Cornerian fleet. There was no dissent whatsoever because personal opinion as well as spirit was stomped into the dirt. And as much as he hated to admit it, Fox knew that pilots who thought for themselves were better assets to any squadron, including the likes of Falco.
"Bulldog!" a pilot shouted.
"No way," another rebuked, "Sabertooth Flight!"
This caught Fox off guard, and yet at the same time brought a smile to his face. It looked like there were still good ol' boys tucked in there after all, smothered by the harsh system the military had set in place. He almost felt sorry for them…
"Foxhound!" another pilot hollered into his headset.
"That's enough!" Kadel nearly screamed over the channel so loud that it hurt, "Foxhound sounds good enough to me. Designate your numbers, Foxhound Flight, so we can get on with this refresher mission."
"Private channel, Fox." That was Falco speaking.
Fox hit a few buttons on his console and replied, "Private channel, go ahead."
"Well at least the name doesn't suck," the bird said sarcastically.
"Hey, Falco," Fox warned, "You might want to… settle down for this guy. He's liable to bite your head off."
"Nah, not likely," Falco responded, "I'll just shoot him out of the sky if he gets on my nerves. These Cornerian stiffs are all alike, I swear."
Fox shook his head and grinned. Well, he thought, When the fireworks fly, I can't say I didn't warn him.
"Set course for heading zero-three-one, Beta," Kadel said over the squadron channel, beginning the refresher run, "Alpha, Foxhound, you're on me."
"This'll get boring fast," Fox said, his voice still transmitting over the private channel, "In fact it already is."
"Nonsense!" Falco replied in a giddy voice, "I believe it's time to have a little fun!"