6
With nothing else to do at the moment, thankfully, Fox sat up in the bridge of the Great Fox, watching as the Cornerian fleet around him sped towards the amorphous blob of green and yellow which appeared ahead. It was the infamous Sector Y nebula, renown as a hazard for passing ships.
But to any mercenary such as himself, the Sector Y nebula was also renowned as a hideout for criminals and smugglers, otherwise called the "slime of the system". Due to the nebula's dangerous properties, it made it the perfect place for people who wanted to get out of the light of day; any place where anyone wouldn't normally want to go could be classified as a hideout. Thus, several illegal space stations were erected in the immediate area, usually hovering so close to the nebula itself that no Cornerian patrol in its right mind would venture close enough to find it. An example of this was the Sargasso Space Zone, a small, self-sufficient criminal base housed in a rundown space colony structure.
Of course, this anonymity and security was dashed when Andross' Venomian fleet came rolling through. It had branched out on both sides of the nebula, soaring close-by as to traverse it as fast as possible. The other stations, along with Sargasso, were probably in enemy hands, being used as forward bases. If this wasn't the case, which was to say if Andross was as tactically inept as he was before, he'd probably demolished each and every station. War affects everybody; even those who try to stay away from it.
In any case, the fight for Sector Y was unlike the massive slugfest that had erupted over Corneria. The fleets had both branched out on either side of the nebula, splitting their forces in two. Since the Venomians' goal was to prevent relief efforts on Katina, they'd dug into their position, forming two massive walls on either side of the hazy cloud. In turn, the Cornerians rammed heads with these two defensive positions, eventually suffering enough casualties that they pulled back and set up their own line.
The result was a thousand mile wide stretch of No-Man's Land in between the two lines, populated by the drifting debris of dead or decaying ships from both sides. While the capital ships remained to the rear, the fighter squadrons were sent into the fray, facilitating one massive dogfight in between the graveyard of vessels.
While these fights were of major concern, however, there arose a new threat to the Cornerian war effort. Some time during the fighting, a squadron reported seeing giant robots flying among the debris, picking off squadrons and disabled ships that still bore crews.
Command had Intelligence look it over, and they concluded that Andross had deployed a squadron of experimental mobile suits, fearsome weapons of war that worked like giant robots. They had been brought in on a single carrier ship called the Saruzin which was custom built with a catapult mechanism that launched these weapons. The suits themselves, though not as fast or flashy as a star fighter, were highly maneuverable, and could react faster to enemy action. The result was one devastating defeat after the other, with entire squadrons attempting to take them down only to be kicked, punched, or simply shot to pieces.
Because of this outrageous hurdle, General Pepper himself had designated this mobile suit squadron as a target of high priority, prompting search and destroy missions to be taken out against it.
The 201st Interceptor Squadron was picked for one such mission. Whether or not this was because of the presence of Starfox was unknown, but the 201st wasn't exactly the best squadron in the fleet, so Fox could only assume that they wanted to throw his team's Arwings at this new foe.
Their mission was simple in wording but incredibly difficult in concept: seek out the Saruzin, the carrier base ship for these combatants, and eliminate it. The problems started the moment one looked at the context of "eliminating the Saruzin"; a single squadron was no match for an entire carrier ship.
This was also an inane plan because the Saruzin was nowhere to be found, though it was most likely tucked in behind enemy lines. Unlike the fighting at Corneria, Intelligence didn't have the advantages of a doorstep battle out there in Sector Y, meaning that enemy movements were generally unknown, including the position of the Saruzin.
Nevertheless, it was their mission, and they had no other choice than to proceed with it.
War was hell.
Fox was still wondering how his squadron would get along with the 201st. Their two brief refresher runs prior to arriving at Sector Y were fun indeed, for Falco at least. As expected, he disobeyed orders on a regular basis, badmouthed Captain Kadel, and even got a few of the free-spirited Cornerian jockeys to join in humiliating their commanding officer. Kadel was absolutely fuming, spouting curses and derogatory comments and even orders left and right; Fox couldn't help but think that the war hound was foaming at the mouth as he did so.
In any case, their relationship with the 201st was tenuous at best, non-existent at worst. Coordinating a search and destroy mission together with them from within enemy territory seemed all but impossible, not even taking into account the absurd nature of the mission itself.
But they'd do it somehow… Starfox would do it at least, with or without the help of their forced allies. Of that Fox was certain… to an extent.
He continued to watch the ships drift on by, their engines blazing in order to reach the front lines as quickly as possible. The other Dreadnaught-class destroyers were there too, practically smothered in shadow thanks to the sheer size of the Great Fox flying among them.
"ARRIVAL WITHIN THE HOUR," ROB reported as the robot looked up from a console at Fox, "CAPTAIN KADEL REQUESTS THAT STARFOX LAUNCH IMMEDIATELY."
"Already?" Fox asked rhetorically, annoyed at the Cornerian officer's blunt and ignorant attitude. "We still have some time before the mission officially starts."
ROB gave no answer, simply unable to comply. Fox shook his head and got out of the seat he'd been in for the past hour or two.
"Notify the rest of the guys, ROB," Fox said behind him as he started out of the bridge, "We're heading out… On orders."
Fox's grip on the yoke tightened as they neared the waypoint. The designated rendezvous point was close enough to the front lines to show the graveyard of ships that stretched beyond it. To any star-faring pilot it was an ominous sight, especially since there was no apparent action going on nearby, meaning it was dead silence in dead space filled with dead people.
He had no intention of joining them.
"Fox, I've got the squadron on my scope," Peppy radioed in a grim tone, "They're already moving in."
"Damnit to hell," Fox spat as he increased his speed, "Come on, guys, we'd better catch up."
"Right behind you," Peppy replied, speaking for the rest of the team.
The Arwings let loose on full power, soaring over the line of beleaguered Galleon-class ships into No-Man's Land where the 201st had already ventured into. According to his sensors, Fox noted that they were already five kilometers ahead of him. Talk about an early start, Fox thought with derision as he led his squadron over the hulk of a Forerunner-class. That Kadel is lucky he has us with him at all…
A bright flash like that of a star appeared in the distance for but a second. And then another one appeared just like it. And then another. And then three more in quick succession.
Speak of the devil.
The 201st's channel came into existence with a bang; literally. The sound of an exploding Cornerian fighter and the hiss of static marked their first transmission to reach Starfox's ears.
"Shit! We lost Beta Two!" hollered a panicked voice.
"Cut the chatter, damnit!" That was Captain Kadel, his tone as gruff and uncompromising as ever. "Beta, pull back, Alpha, stick together!"
"Two more, on the nose!" yet another fretting pilot sounded off. "What the hell, they're too fast!"
Fox shook his head as the chatter continued, the numerous voices warning to "Watch for the guns" or "Don't get too close". The 201st was still two kilometers away, which was revealed to be within a denser pocket of slain ships than usual.
"Let's back up the squadron," Fox radioed to his team, "Eyes sharp. Keep on my wing; we'll surprise them from above."
The Arwings loosened formation and pulled up, soaring above the tangled mass of ships below. Once they'd traversed the remaining two kilometers, they dove down at full speed into the fray.
From this position Fox could see what looked like figures moving about. They had some kind of light about them, but it only appeared so often. These were the mobile suits, using their maneuvering thrusters to swiftly dodge the attacks by the Cornerian fighters.
One of them came to an abrupt halt right in front of the Arwings' flight path. Suddenly it looked up, and the yellow sensors on his head which resembled eyes glowed.
The gun in its right hand went flying up to meet the new combatants, immediately discharging a yellow laser bolt at Fox's ship. His shields absorbed the blast, crackling heavily as they did so. The sparks that were dancing about his canopy soon disappeared, and in their place was the massive form of a mobile suit.
Fox blurted out a curse as he jammed the stick to the left, spinning his Arwing as to avoid a collision with the war machine. No sooner than he had narrowly evaded destruction that he was hit in the rear by another two shots from the robot's impressive gun, pitching him forward and draining the shields almost completely.
He pulled back on the stick, bringing his fighter level with the scrap which was going on with the other Cornerian units. A bright flash to the left illuminated his cockpit, prompting his attention. Fox looked on in horror as a mobile suit came barreling through the fireball.
As he pitched to the right in an attempt to evade, the channel became even more clouded by shrieks of terror. The smoldering debris used to be Alpha Six, or so they screamed.
Fox found himself between two mobile suits; one to the rear and one directly in front. They'd caught him in a cross-fire, with little room to escape thanks to a hunk of debris which used to be part of a Grazan immediately above, and a nearly intact Galleon to his bottom left.
Trusting in the abilities of his craft, Fox smashed the stick to the right and held it there, initiating a barrel roll. At the same time, he put the robot ahead of him dead in his crosshairs and held the trigger.
The robot started firing, its laser bolts lancing out only to be bounced away harmlessly like swatting away a fly. Meanwhile the Arwing's lasers came at the mobile suit, smacking into the shield it seemed to be wielding with its free left hand. It managed to absorb the shots… for a time.
After the fifth shot, the kite-shaped slab of metal broke apart at the seams, splitting into shards which flew backwards. With his target laid bare, Fox had no hesitation in continuing his barrage. The green lasers continued to assail the mobile suit, blowing off fingers and then a hand and then the entire left arm, all of them either burned out of existence or simply ripped off from the rest of the body.
The robot hit the thrusters embedded in its feet, shooting up in an attempt to dodge the rest of the oncoming fire. Fox wouldn't let it escape, so he pulled up as well, only to find that the robot had landed on the hunk of the Grazan and was now using it as a firing position. More yellow bolts smacked into his ship, this time directly onto the cockpit. The warning klaxon roared as the shields collapsed entirely.
And for a second Fox thought he was as good as dead.
The robot was shot square in the chest, knocking it off of the wreck and at the same time obliterating the cockpit and its occupant. Falco's Arwing swooped over the wreckage where it used to be standing.
"Somebody's gonna pay for all this," he said over the already stressed channel.
Fox snapped out of his mortal terror as a Cornerian fighter came alongside him and attached to his wing.
"You alright?" a pilot who he was unfamiliar with said.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Fox responded, suddenly short of breath.
"Good, because there's more where that came from. Heads up!"
The Interceptor Mark II broke to the left, missing the oncoming fire of two robots directly ahead that were floating side-by-side. Fox was hard pressed to do the same maneuver to the right.
With klaxons still whining, people still shouting, and engine still purring, Fox was being barraged by more sounds than he ever thought possible in the airless vacuum of space. The firefight was condensed into such a small area that there was constant action; lasers incessantly darted among the stars and decaying warships.
But there was no time to dwell on it. According to his ship's computer, the shields had completely failed and were in the process of recharging. His hull hadn't taken any damage, yet at least, which meant he was still good to go.
And he'd need to be. He caught sight of a robot hiding among a floating mass of wreckage which was probably pulled into its current position. The suit was using this make-shift bunker to take pock shots at just about anything that flew by.
Fox mashed down on the trigger, sending energy into the main gun which in turn formed it into a ball. The crosshairs went red and the system beeped in a piercing tone, even though it paled in comparison to the klaxons.
He let fly the charged shot, hurling the ball of energy at the defensive structure ahead. It impacted with enough force to blow it all apart, the material already weak from the fighting and so giving way easily.
The mobile suit still sat there, suddenly wide out in the open. It looked to the right in time to see Fox's Arwing closing in at top speed.
Streaks of green light illuminated its head, shearing it clear off of the torso. Fox eased the yoke down, pulling the stream of fire down the length of the body until something inside it violently exploded in a hail of metal body parts.
"Scratch one," Fox managed to say into his headset.
"Scratch another, Fox," Falco hollered, "Come on, keep up!"
"Can it, Falc-"
"They're making a run for it!" Peppy yelled, inadvertently breaking up the argument before it could start.
"What?" Fox asked as he dodged another salvo of lasers.
"They're heading for the front lines! Don't let any of them through!"
Fox didn't understand. Why would the suits be breaking for the front lines by themselves? Pulling up on the stick, Fox shot up and out of the frenzy, giving him a bird's eye view and immediate and dreadful understanding.
The enemy was making an offensive, right then and there, during their fight.
Six battle squadrons of Venomian capital ships were steaming across the graveyard, flanked by numerous squadrons of Invader Is. The sheer number of them rivaled the number that must have been holding up their front. In fact, this probably was their front, moving forward in its entirety.
"Oh damnit, what do we do now?" a Cornerian pilot cried out.
"Shut the hell up!" Kadel barked, "And keep shooting!"
"Peppy, private channel!" Fox hollered into his headset, hoping to get the message through. Scant seconds later the channel was established, Peppy starting out with, "What is it?" while a crescendo of lasers could be heard in the background.
"We need to warn the fleet," Fox said in a hurry, "They have to hold this back by themselves."
"I know, Fox," Peppy replied, "But… But I can't… get through to them. Interference or jamming or something, I don't know." His speech was broken up, probably because he had better things on his mind than talking, like not dying.
"What's the plan?" Fox inquired.
"How should I know? You're the leader!"
"Not now, Peppy," Fox rebuked in annoyance, "What do we do?!"
"Damnit, Fox, I'm serious! It's your call!"
Fox tightened his grip on the yoke again. Peppy was right, as much as he hated to admit it. It was his call, his decision.
Or maybe it was Kadel's, but he didn't seem to be plotting anything at the moment, simply yelling "fire" every few seconds.
Switching back to the squadron channel, he heard Slippy saying, "Guys, they're falling back!"
"What was that, Slip?" Fox asked his wingman as he opened fire on another mobile suit, scoring direct hits on the cockpit.
"I said they're retreating! The mobile suits are pulling back into that line of ships!"
Fox took that in for a moment. They were falling back… But to where? Well where else could they go except for the Saruzin? It was the only place they could land and re-arm.
They'd lead the squadron right to their target.
"Captain, Foxhound One here," Fox radioed over the squadron channel with the hopes that he'd listen, "The mobile suits are retreating to their base ship. I think we should follow…"
"Shut the hell up, you goddamn merc!" came the abrupt response, "We're not going anywhere! We're going to hold this fleet back!"
"Are you insane?" Falco butted in, "You can't hold them all back on your own!"
"I didn't ask you, bird-brain, now shut up!" Kadel barked.
"You'll get everyone killed!"
Kadel didn't respond to that one, though his answer would have probably been "Shut up" anyway.
"That's it," Peppy shouted, "This is Foxhound Two to the 201st, form up on my wing, we're pulling back to the front!"
"Under whose authority!?" Kadel exploded in anger.
"Under the authority of common sense, you twat! 201st, on me!"
Fox let himself take the time to grin. That was just like Peppy, always caring more about fellow pilots than the mission. That urge must have stemmed from losing Fox's father in battle on that fateful mission all those years ago, and he'd be damned if he let it happen again.
"Peppy, what's the plan?" Fox said into his headset, the commotion dying down as the mobile suits pulled out of the fight.
"I'm taking the squadron back to the front where they can help hold off the assault. You guys track those things back to the Saruzin, I'll catch up."
"This is my squadron! How dare you order around my squadron!" Kadel shouted, his blood boiling in complete fury.
"Lead, Alpha Five, stuff it, Captain," a Cornerian pilot said.
"Lead, Beta One, I'm with the rabbit, sir."
"Lead, Beta Three…"
"Shut up! All of you!" the Captain yelled, "I'll have you all court-martialed for this!"
"We'd rather be court-martialed and alive than dead, Lead. Beta One out."
Fox watched as the Cornerian Interceptors started to group up on Peppy's wing, abandoning the single remaining fighter which belonged to Captain Kadel. He noticed that there were only six fighters on Peppy's wing, not counting Kadel's ship, meaning that the 201st had lost five pilots in the period of only a few minutes.
"You'd better get going, Fox" Peppy radioed, "Or you'll lose them."
"Right," Fox replied, "Falco, Slippy, form up. Switch to our squadron channel…"
"And Fox," Peppy added, "Make sure there's something left for me to catch up to."
Fox nodded to himself. "Will do."
Peppy flipped around with the remaining units of the 201st and started off while Falco and Slippy regrouped. With two Arwings straddling his wings, Fox pointed the nose of his fighter towards the location of a fleeting mobile suit and hit the engines, leaving behind one completely dumbfounded and speechless Captain Kadel.