AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have waited SO long for this. This chapter is probably the biggest reason I had for writing War Stories. We've seen Fox and Wolf as they live their separate lives. Now watch as their paths finally collide, in a moment that will forever link them as opposing rivals and enemies. So sit back, start playing the "StarWolf Theme", and prepare to be knocked on your ass as you…
-Enter StarWolf-
The frozen glaciers and bloodless tundra of the icy planet Fichina stood absolutely still, the endless snow undisturbed by even the slightest brush of wind. The planet's sun, the star known as Kragg, gave off a dull yellow shine through the clouds that dotted the pale blue sky. The day was unusually calm for a world frequently ravaged by blizzards and ice storms.
The calm, magnificent desolation of the arctic landscape was suddenly disturbed as four Space Dynamics R-64 Arwing star fighters blasted through the air above and threw the snow into a series of wispy swirls.
"Make sure your blasters are charged up, I'm talking about side arms and laser cannons," Fox instructed, leading the formation, "At least two of us are going to have to actually go in there once we've taken care of whatever air defenses they've got to guard the base."
"From the information General Pepper sent us, the scientists stationed at the base along with the soldiers were drawing up plans to eventually terraform the planet," Peppy's voice came in over the radio, "Apparently, the scientists are being held hostage, along with whatever soldiers were taken prisoner, by the Venomians that have occupied the base. Fox and I are going to go inside to rescue them after we've established air superiority. I've got a pair of blaster rifles and some body armor stored in my Arwing's cargo space, while Slippy and Falco maintain air cover."
"They got any anti-air defenses?" Falco inquired.
"We covered this in the briefing, Falco," Fox chided.
"Hey, just answer tha' question, fuzzball," Falco shot back, "Ya' don't gotta be a fuckin' asshole."
"From the last transmission the base sent during the original attack, almost all of the surface-to-air missile sites were taken down by orbital bombardment," Fox sighed, "We'll be flying too close to the ground just in case they have missile or gun emplacements, so it'll be harder to target us. It's just what the secondary Venomian invasion force left behind to guard the place before moving on to attack Corneria, so they probably would have just enough to hold the place, rather than defend against an aerial assault. They were planning on conquering Corneria and not having to worry about going on the defensive, but we put a stop to that, didn't we? More than likely, we'll just be dealing with whatever fighters they have stationed in the outpost's hangar bays."
"From what we've been able to piece together, though, the Venomians have reconstructed the early warning radar system that the outpost was equipped with," Slippy added, "So they'll probably know we're coming and be ready for us, unless ROB is able to jam the system from the Great Fox."
"Currently, I have targeted the wavelength that the outpost's early warning radar is operating under. I have detected no radar signatures that would indicate the presence of a radar-guided missile or laser defense system. I am prepared to jam the early warning system as soon as you begin to enter the range of their detection," ROB-64 informed them over the comm.
"Is jamming their system going to affect the Great Fox's ability to assist and extend our own sensor range?" Fox inquired.
Great Fox's function as a mother ship proved invaluable to Team StarFox operations in many ways beyond simply serving as a carrier and base of operations. Currently, the Great Fox was using its own advanced radar and sensor systems to give the Arwings radar cover as a space borne warning and control system. This gave the Arwings added stealth and the ability to conserve power, since there was no need to rely on each star fighter's own sensor package to detect and track threats.
"Negative, Fox," ROB replied, "At most, you may experience some slight interference at the moment that we begin jamming their warning system. Otherwise, there is little need to activate your own active radar."
Fox nodded, glancing at the rangefinder on his heads-up display, showing that they were hundreds of kilometers away from the base, perhaps a hundred or so from entering range of the outpost's own sensor systems.
"No screw-ups on this one, okay?" Fox instructed, "This wasn't a particularly valuable target for the Venomian Army, just sort of a pit stop for them on their way to Corneria. This should be a pretty easy assignment."
"Careful, Foxie," Falco warned lightly, "Don't wanna jinx tha' whole thing."
The whitish-blue orb of Fichina dominated Wolf's view out of the cockpit as the StarWolf Team flew their Wolfens in low planetary orbit. Far behind them, a mere brown shape in the distance, sat the long, angular and boxy appearance of the Lone Wolf, from which they had all launched barely fifteen minutes ago.
Wolf tried to maintain his calm as he gripped the Wolfen's control stick in his paw, but it was getting more and more difficult by the minute not to spasm with excitement.
It was happening. After all this time, Wolf's big fight was finally here.
He closed his eye, breathed in and out, and then gritted his teeth.
He couldn't lose control. Not here. Not now.
Wolf couldn't cut loose in the cockpit; if he didn't maintain focus he'd likely end up crashing or getting shot down. Flying against McCloud wouldn't be nearly as good as getting out and fighting him hand-to-hand, where Wolf could truly let out the animal inside. But it was good enough, and it would have to do.
Even still, he could practically taste what he'd always wanted coming into his grasp.
"IG, what're we doin' about tha' Great Fox's radar system?" Wolf inquired, fighting to stay on task rather than letting his mind wonder towards what was in the immediate future.
"Our task force left a communications satellite in orbit before departing to attack Corneria," IG-N 96 responded, "I'm currently attempting to use the satellite to isolate the Great Fox's radar signature. Since we're on the opposite side of Fichina from Great Fox, the planet itself is shielding us from detection. I'll begin barrage jamming the Great Fox as soon as I can pinpoint the signal. It should give you some cover and allow you to sneak up on them. Additionally, I may be able to break the encryption codes on their comlink transmissions, and allow you to eavesdrop on their conversations. Since they're probably not expecting us, the encryption likely isn't strong."
"Sounds good," Wolf nodded inside his cockpit.
"Well, I've held up my fair share of the work, Commander O'Donnell," IG added, "Let's hope all of you are worth the credit that the Emperor gives you. I imagine he'd be quite cross if StarFox wiped the floor with all of you and your expensive ships."
"Oh, well ya' hear that, guys?" Wolf chirped, "I imagine we got ourselves a new mission. Nobody worry so much 'bout StarFox, our new job is ta' impress tha' robot! Maybe if we do a good enough job he'll give us a gold star on our report card."
The other members of StarWolf chortled over the comlink.
"That's right," Leon added, "Crashing now results in an 'unsatisfactory' mark on our permanent record, followed by death. Not to mention that, then, IG won't think we're cool anymore."
Wolf laughed harder than necessary, hoping to make the remarks sting a little more, while at the same time wondering if it was possible for a robot to feel humiliation.
"Yeah, and if we're not careful he might send us to detention!" Andrew piped up.
The comm. channel went dead quiet, and Wolf leaned his head to the side, glaring with a look of contempt across the gulf of space to the Wolfen at his left.
"Way tuh be a buzz-kill, Andrew," Pigma muttered, breaking the silence.
"I thought it was funny…" Andrew retorted weakly.
"You were wrong," Leon shot down in a matter-of-factly tone.
"But yeah..." Wolf said, returning to the subject, "IG's a fuckin' twit."
The various pilots voiced their agreement.
They all went mute, waiting for a response from the automaton back on the Lone Wolf and receiving none. It appeared that, for once, IG-N 96 was without a comeback.
"Aww, y'all hear that?" Wolf mocked, "I think we hurt his feelings."
"Just shut up and do your jobs," IG rebutted, "Impudent meatbags."
"Hey, that's not nice," Wolf chuckled, "That hurts, IG, right here."
"Get your heads in the game, morons," IG cut off, "You're crossing into Great Fox's sensor range. I'll begin jamming their radar systems. Lone Wolf can't provide you radar cover without broadcasting its position, so wait until you're within range before powering up your active radars. You have about twenty more minutes at your current orbital velocity before an ideal re-entry vector will put you over the outpost. I'm plotting your best course on your positioning avionics suite. Do yourselves a favor and prove me wrong. Lone Wolf out."
"Alright, boys, lets get serious," Wolf growled, "Re-adjust your G-diffuser output once we re-enter the atmosphere. Everyone pick a target and stick to it. If worse comes to worse, we're lookin' at a countdown situation here, so we've just got to hold 'em off if it comes down to it. Lets show 'em why they call us tha' bad guys."
Wolf gripped the stick hard in his clawed hands, a microfilm of sweat coating the rough pads on his palms. He had to clench his jaw closed to prevent himself from panting with anxiety.
This was a feeling similar to what he felt just before his first kiss, his first fight, or his first fuck. He knew it was coming, but it would only come if he managed to keep it together long enough. Wolf didn't want this to be fast, he wanted to take his time, to enjoy and savor it, but the impatient beast within him threatened to swallow the moment whole if he wasn't careful. He needed to keep control. He had to harness the beast, and unleash it against the enemy that he'd waited so long for.
He needed it to be perfect, because now it was Wolf's turn in the spotlight. He could feel it coming.
The curtain had risen.
His cue had been given.
Enter stage left.
The Arwings screamed over the white Fichina snow, closing the distance between themselves and the occupied defense outpost.
"By tha' way," Falco inquired over the comm., "I almost forgot about this. I picked up a slice a' blueberry pie back on Katina."
"Falco, for God's sake," Fox demanded incredulously, "We're like fifteen minutes out. This can't wait?"
"No!" Falco snapped bitterly, "It was a damn good pie! I had it in tha' conservator waitin' for me, and when I went ta' get it this morning it was gone!"
"Quick, someone call the cops," Fox scoffed with a roll of his eyes.
"So you think one of us ate it?" Slippy inquired.
"Well it wasn't ROB!!!" Falco barked.
"You left a slice of pie in the conservator for five days?" Peppy examined critically, "No wonder someone else ended up eating it."
"That mean it was you, old man?" Falco menaced.
"No," Peppy dodged effortlessly, "I don't like blueberry. I'm just saying that, after three days or so, especially if you don't tell anyone it's yours, I wouldn't be surprised to find that someone else claimed it."
"I didn't know I had ta' write my name on it," Falco growled, "I expected some mother fuckin' respect around here! It's called havin' some fuckin' manners!"
"And you're just oozing with manners, Falco," Slippy whispered.
"Shut tha' fuck up, Slippy!" Falco roared over the comm., "It was probably you!"
"It was not!" Slippy argued, "I swear!"
"Of course it was Slippy," Fox submitted casually.
"FOX!!!" Slippy yelled indignantly.
"I will fuck your world, Slippy!!" Falco bellowed, "I neva' even got a taste a' that pie!"
"I didn't do it! Fox is a damn liar!" Slippy cried.
"Sorry, Slip," Fox hummed, "Can't cover for you all the time."
"You never even tasted it?" Peppy inquired.
"I didn't eat his damn pie!" Slippy argued.
"You're right, Slippy," Falco snarled, "Ya' didn't eat a pie. You ate a death wish. And tha' second we land, I'm gonna come over and grant it for ya!"
"I didn't do it!" Slippy professed, his voice cracking.
"How do you know it was even all that good, then?" Peppy mused, almost indifferent to the rest of the conversation.
There were a few moments of pause, in which no one really had anything to say.
"It was me," Fox suddenly confessed with a shrug.
"WHAT?" Falco squawked, and Fox could practically see the avian's eyes widening in disbelief.
Peppy suddenly burst out laughing, his guffaws echoing through the comm. channel.
"You prick," Slippy chuckled, laughing the whole thing off.
"Sorry, Slip, I couldn't resist," Fox grinned, shrugging as he talked into his headset, "The whole thing was just too stupid."
"No shit ya' couldn't resist!" Falco raged.
"Falco, I will buy an entire blueberry pie just for you the second we get back to civilization," Fox promised, "There, now everything's fine. Lets try to focus on the mission and at least act like professionals."
"It's tha' goddamn principle--"
Falco was suddenly cut off as a faint alarm was heard inside the cockpit, and Peppy suddenly stopped laughing. Fox looked down at the radar screen to see the icons beginning to break up and multiple, pulsing readings dominating the console.
"What's wrong with tha' radar?" Falco demanded.
"We've got some serious interference," Slippy answered, "ROB, what's going on?"
"Great Fox's sensors are being jammed," ROB-64 replied, "It's being transmitted on multiple frequencies, causing interference whenever we switch to different wavelengths."
"What tha' hell?" Falco remarked, "How's that possible? We jam them and now they're jammin' us?"
"Negative," said ROB, "The jamming source is not from the defense outpost. Possibly a satellite in geosynchronous orbit. Great Fox will attempt to intercept and destroy the satellite, but we cannot provide radar coverage until that time. Recommend switch to active radar packages on Arwings."
"Alright then, activate the onboard radars for your ships," Fox ordered, "They probably know we're coming right now, so there's no point in trying to hide. Accelerate to three thousand kilometers."
Fox cranked the throttle up, feeling the Arwing vibrate just slightly as the engines rumbled with greater power. He disconnected the radar sweep from the Great Fox and activated his own active radar. The screen returned to normal functionality, however the radar range had been dramatically decreased because of the lower power of the Arwing's radar.
"See what I mean about callin' this whole thing an easy mission, Foxie?" Falco prodded.
"Shut up and focus," Fox retorted.
The StarFox Team seared over the sparse white landscape at more than twice the speed of sound, reaching the outer edges of the defense outpost in a matter of minutes.
"Cut your speed and switch to attack mode," Fox commanded.
They each throttled down and engaged the variable wing system, the wings pivoting forward from an arrowhead shape to more perpendicular to the sides of the Arwing.
Up ahead, amongst a group of hills and mountains they could see a series of tall observation towers. Beyond the towers, in the center of the mountain range was a huge, hourglass-shaped installation several hundred meters tall. In the foundations of the hourglass structure were several large hangar bay entrances, like small peepholes out of the massive fortification. As they approached, several large, ungainly fighters, more similar to flying tanks than star fighters, sailed out of the hangar bays and began circling the base.
"There's our welcoming committee, guys," Fox announced, "Split up and give 'em hell."
The Arwings dove amongst the small mountains and split up, Fox instantly tailing one of the weird, ungainly-looking fighters.
The Venomian fighter tried to turn out of the way of Fox's ship, moving so slow that Fox nearly blew past it before pelting it with two paired laser beams and watching it spin flaming into the ground.
"These things are freakin' pathetic," Falco complained.
"They look like Invader I fighters," Slippy informed, "They're the earliest Venomian fighter development. They were designed more for troop transport than air-to-air combat."
"Whoever bags tha' most pussy-fighters buys a new pie for me," Falco sneered.
"What if you bag the most pussy-fighters?" Slippy posited.
"Then we each have to buy a pie for Falco's fat ass," Fox quipped.
"I don't got a problem with that," the avian smirked in reply.
The air around the defense outpost was soon swarming with Invader Is, which glided through the air almost without resistance to the StarFox Arwings.
As he tailed a pair of the Invader I fighters, Fox gave a jerk of the control stick to the side as a single green laser bolt flashed from the fighter's back. Fox tapped the firing button twice, each time hitting an Invader I fighter and blasting it out of the air.
Fox swooped upward, and gave out a gasp as a single Invader I fighter nearly collided with him in midair. He pulled further back on the stick, pulling the Arwing's nose all the way up until it jabbed straight into the sky, rocketing overtop the fighter and blasting high into the air over the outpost. He pulled the stick further back, inverting the Arwing into a loop. Just before the Arwing completely inverted itself, Fox could've sworn that he saw what looked like a group of four falling stars in the distance. He paid it no mind as the Arwing dove towards the ground, pulling up on the stick to get an angular dive and unleashing a hail of laser fire on a formation of Invader I aircraft. Half a dozen Venomian fighters crashed into the ground.
Fox's Arwing swooped back up as it neared the ground, continuing to engage another fighter that became visible out of the corner of his eye.
"One of these guys isn't bad, Fox," Peppy agitatedly remarked, "Mind getting them off me?"
Fox broke off pursuit and followed his radar picture to the red arrow on the screen, seeing Peppy's Arwing with a single Invader I in hot pursuit. Peppy was headed on a straight collision course with Fox, the two bearing down on each other at hundreds of kilometers per hour.
"Break off!" Fox shouted, and Peppy's Arwing barrel-rolled to the side, the shields flaring and absorbing a laser shot from the Invader I fighter. Now nothing was between Fox's laser cannons and the Venomian ship. Fox tapped the firing button twice, unleashing a pair of green laser bolts directly into the fighter's cockpit. The fighter blossomed into an orange explosion, its twisted wreck sloping up, then down into the snow-covered planet surface.
Fox pulled his Arwing up hard, screaming into the air and banking back around towards the large outpost.
"Hey guys…" Slippy called, "Why are so many ships coming out of the base?"
Wolf could overhear them through his own comlink, the aerial acrobatics of their fighters just barely visible around the defense outpost far below. IG-N 96 had managed to pinpoint the Team StarFox frequency, and all of StarWolf was now switched to it, operating on strict radio silence until Wolf's command.
"Because they're attacking us, Slippy," Fox McCloud replied in a gently sarcastic tone.
The sound of McCloud's voice did not send the chills up Wolf's spine that he'd expected. It wasn't exactly the calm, warm voice of James McCloud. This was the voice of a kid, not quite as confident or deep as the original McCloud's had been.
It was a bit of a disappointment.
"No, I mean seriously, they're not attacking us," Slippy Toad said, "They're trying to escape."
"He's right, Fox," Peppy Hare agreed.
Wolf noted the slight hoarseness in Peppy's voice that had increased since the time Wolf had briefly encountered him on Venom. He smiled a bit, and silently saluted the StarFox Team member for training someone for Wolf to fight.
He was no longer anxious. Wolf was calm, and he was ready. He hoped McCloud was ready, too.
Wolf throttled down to attack speed.
Fox glanced left and right out of the Arwing's canopy, noticing that several Invader I fighters were, indeed, flying away from the base instead of engaging them.
"I guess we got 'em runnin' scared," Falco enunciated.
"Negative, Lieutenant Lombardi," ROB-64 corrected over the comlink, "Intercepted Venomian radio transmissions indicate that most personnel are evacuating. Evidence suggests that an antimatter bomb has been planted at the base."
Fox's eyes widened.
"They're going to blow the base and take the hostages with it!" Peppy sounded.
"Transmissions indicate approximately fifteen minutes before the bomb explodes," ROB warned.
"Alright, we've got fifteen minutes to clear the air and take care of the bomb!" Fox yelled.
From out of nowhere, a guttural, drawling voice rumbled over the comlink.
"Can't let you do that, StarFox," the voice snarled.
Fox's heart skipped a beat, his blood ran cold. A small alarm on his radar display showed a quartet of black arrows approaching from the west. Fox looked in the direction, almost blinded by the afternoon sun, but he was still able to make out a group of VenCom B-35 Wolfen star fighters bearing down on them.
"Andross has ordered us to take you down…nice and slowly," a high, manic voice intimidated.
The four Wolfens screeched into the area, their engines echoing with the sounds of a wounded animal as they suddenly broke formation.
"Hey, Peppy!" a belching, odious voice called, "Long time, no see, buddy!"
Fox realized that he knew this voice, and his hand clenched around the throttle control with rage.
It was Pigma.
He barely noticed as a dull, reedy voice declared, "Andross' enemy is my enemy!"
Fox gunned the Arwing forward to the mountain range forming the boundary of the outpost, yanking the control stick back towards his chest.
This is it, isn't it?, Fox thought to himself, This is StarWolf.
As the Arwing screamed back around to initiate the fight, Fox directed into his headset microphone, "Stick to the plan guys. Take them out so we can disarm the bomb."
Instantly, Fox beheld a single Wolfen screaming towards him spitting red laser blasts from its mouth-like split fuselage. He frantically shoved the control stick to the side, barrel rolling defensively. The shields flared and the laser blasts bounded off harmlessly, the opposing fighter rocketing past in a flare of green engine fire.
"C'mon kid, is that all ya' got?!" the gruff voice demanded.
Instinctively, Fox knew that this had to be Wolf O'Donnell, and his eyes narrowed sharply in remembrance of what Peppy had told him about the StarWolf leader.
Fox kept a sharp eye on the black arrow representing O'Donnell's fighter, diving the Arwing down and swooping around the large base structure of the outpost. The Arwing soared upwards, the Wolfen star fighter in view, and Fox tapped the firing button as his crosshairs lined up with the enemy ship.
A chain of paired laser bolts erupted from the Arwing's cannons, lancing into the Wolfen. At the last moment, the Wolfen spun around in a barrel roll of its own, the green laser fire reflecting off of the flared shield energy. The Wolfen's engines erupted in a boost of speed, soaring away from Fox and daring him to follow. Fox slammed the throttle up and flew back into his seat as the Arwing's engines blasted forward in pursuit. Up ahead, the Wolfen suddenly turned and banked in a broad turn, then blasted back towards him. Fox instantly pressed the firing button again, watching the Wolfen spin into another barrel roll that dispersed Fox's shots.
"Keep that weak shit outta here!" Wolf bellowed, firing a laser blast that struck Fox's left G-diffuser.
Fox choked as the Arwing rattled with the impact, and the Wolfen blasted just over his canopy, so close that the screams of the ship's engines were deafening even through the Arwing's soundproofing. Fox checked the damage, seeing that the shields were holding at 90%, and banked the Arwing back around to chase Wolf.
Peppy was right, Fox thought, This guy is good.
The base and the other star fighters flitting through the air were practically invisible to Fox, the only thing he saw was the inside of his cockpit and the Wolfen in the distance.
The Arwing shot onward, bringing the Wolfen into range, watching as the fighter swerved in broad zigzags from left to right, spoiling Fox's ability to get a clear shot. As soon as Fox would fire, the Wolfen would be in a different place, out of the line of fire.
"You sure you're StarFox?" Wolf goaded, "I'm not convinced. Sure as hell ain't impressed."
Fox gritted his teeth in anger, pressing down for a charged shot and watching the power levels climb up. The targeting computer turned red, locked on to the weaving star fighter, and Fox released the button. A green blob of energy hurtled out of the nose of the Arwing, zooming into the back of the Wolfen.
The Wolfen's engines howled and left a green trail as the fighter tore straight up into the sky, dodging the charged shot and breaking the lock.
Fox scanned the skies above, getting only a glimpse of the Wolfen as it looped over his cockpit and leveled off right behind the Arwing.
The star fighter was suddenly rocked with a pair of laser impacts, jolting Fox in his seat as he gunned the craft down to dodge the attack.
His shields were now at 72%.
"Fox! I can't shake this guy!" Slippy cried.
Keeping his eye on the black arrow representing O'Donnell's fighter, Fox boosted the Arwing away, keeping low to the ground and watching as the Wolfen overshot him more than two hundred meters above.
Finally able to speak, Fox yelled, "Falco, can you help Slippy out?!"
"Not a chance," Falco denied, "The lizard's givin' me about as much leeway as I'm givin' him; he'd fry me."
"Shit," Fox cursed, blasting the Arwing into a frustrated U-turn.
O'Donnell's Wolfen soared past at point-blank range, close enough that Fox could just see a grey blur sitting in what must've been the pilot's seat.
"Where do ya' think you're goin'?!" Wolf demanded hotly, however Fox ignored him.
He boosted under the sloping overhangs of the outpost building, where he could see Slippy's Arwing relentlessly pursued by another Wolfen.
"Go back to your lillipad, pond scum," the dull-voiced Andrew Oikonny quipped, pelting Slippy's rear with a crimson laser blast.
Oikonny didn't even seem to take notice of Fox's ship hurtling towards his flank, at least not until Fox began tapping the firing button over and over again, unloading a barrage of laser fire onto the enemy Wolfen.
Oikonny gave off a high-pitched wail and pulled straight up. He didn't seem to know just where Fox's attack had come from, and thus hadn't really dodged Fox effectively. The Arwing flashed upwards, unleashing more green blasts of energy that wobbled the Wolfen into a smoking frenzy.
"Where the fuck ARE you guys?!?!?" Andrew screamed frantically, banking to his right, still not evading Fox nearly enough to make a difference.
Fox lined up his crosshairs with the glowing green engine thrusters of Oikonny's Wolfen, firing two more shots into the fighter's rear. The Wolfen shook some more, one of the four thrusters winking out, ejecting nothing but a trail of black smoke.
"Fuck this! Fuck all of you!" Andrew yelled, "I'm not going to fucking die here!!"
The Wolfen gave off a pathetic burst of engine fire and then rocketed into the sky, out of the scene with a tail of brownish-black smog in its wake.
"Andrew's bugged out, everybody," Pigma's bloated voice announced.
"Big surprise there," Wolf O'Donnell huffed.
"Fuck yourself!" Andrew roared.
"Fuck yourself," Wolf mimicked.
"NO, fuck yourself!" Andrew screamed, "My uncle's the FUCKING EMPEROR of Lylat, so you can take your attitude and shove it up your ass!"
All that Fox could hear after that was Wolf's unnerving, cackling laughter over the comm., a sound that was somehow troubling and maddening at the same time.
"Now that that little drama's over, it's prob'ly proper that we even the odds. Whuddya say, Peppy? How about I finish what I started two years ago?" Pigma chortled.
Fox's jaw clenched with dread.
Peppy's urgent voice came out over the comlink, "Slippy! Fox! He's right on my ass!"
No, Fox thought, staring with hate at the black arrow chasing the red arrow on his radar, He's not going to take someone else from me.
As Andrew Oikonny retreated, cursing the entire way, Wolf O'Donnell was gripping the control stick of his Wolfen and getting progressively more disappointed. Not only was Fox McCloud less-than-impressive; he wasn't even fighting Wolf directly anymore.
What kind of fucking showdown was this?
Whatever happened to the good, old-fashioned male-to-male duel he'd been waiting for? Wolf would not be ignored.
McCloud's Arwing blasted across the sky, zooming through Wolf's field of vision towards Pigma Dengar and Peppy Hare. In the distance, just over the mountains, Leon sparred with Falco Lombardi, the two ships diving and rolling around each other in a stalemating, aerial ballet. They seemed to be evenly matched. And Leon seemed to be getting the fight that Wolf deserved.
"Get back here, ya' little bastard! Fight me!" Wolf snapped, banking his ship after McCloud.
There was no response from the StarFox leader, which only further infuriated Wolf.
As his fighter leveled off, he could see McCloud's Arwing ducking around the large outpost building, and further away Pigma's fighter chasing Peppy.
A series of laser blasts rained down on Peppy Hare's fighter, shaking the blue and white spacecraft as it dodged through the air in vain.
"All those times we flew together, Peppy," Pigma snorted, "Did yuh ever see it comin'? I know James didn't! He fuckin' told me."
Wolf felt his stomach churn with revulsion, and he seriously considered letting McCloud take a few shots at Pigma before intervening.
"You're the whoring shit of the world, Pigma!" Peppy spat defiantly in the face of death.
"You're right," Pigma jeered, "I am the shit of the world. But let's see if I give fuck-all about it when I'm living and you're dead."
A pair of laser blasts erupted from Fox's Arwing, barely missing Pigma's Wolfen. Pigma pulled up into a broad loop and Fox overshot the both of them, unable to close the angle in time.
Pigma completed the loop as Peppy Hare swept into a hard bank to the left, still partially exposed to Pigma's line of fire. Two more scarlet beams of energy shot forth from Pigma's laser cannons, each pounding into Peppy Hare's right wing. Peppy pulled into a stiff turn, hoping to outmaneuver Pigma until he could circle around and return fire. Pigma was perhaps mere seconds from having Peppy lined up once again.
Wolf paid them no mind, gunning after Fox, who was pulling up into a half-loop Immelman turn in order to get back on Pigma.
Wolf pressed down on the firing button, watching the rapid-fire laser cannons spit a stream of vermillion laser blasts at his enemy's ship. The Arwing spun into a rapid barrel roll, slapping away the bolts with its shield flare and then booming past Wolf.
Wolf cursed and pulled the stick back hard, pulling into an Immelman turn of his own, half-looping upwards and then rolling his ship right-side up.
Fox's Arwing was closing fast on Pigma, but Pigma's line of fire was already on Peppy's ship. Peppy's Arwing spun into a barrel roll that protected it from all but the last laser blast that Pigma unleashed, striking Peppy's right G-diffuser and producing a thin trail of grey smoke.
"I can't take much more of this, Fox!" Peppy yelled.
A third Arwing streaked out of nowhere, squarely hitting Pigma in his lower left wing with a pair of verdant laser beams.
"Get away from him!" Slippy Toad shouted, his Arwing blasting across the sky.
Pigma broke pursuit only enough to avoid more shots from Slippy, re-establishing the chase as soon as the amphibian's fighter blazed past.
"You're still a babysitter, Peppy!" Pigma goaded, "It doesn't matter that you've taught the rug-rats how to fly, you're just an old fart watchin' the kids."
Fox seemed to be doing a better job of avoiding Wolf by trying to shoot at Pigma than he had when actually fighting Wolf.
Two more shots from Pigma onto Peppy's Arwing resulted in a small, blossoming explosion, and the Arwing jerked through the air as part of its right G-diffuser blew off.
"HAHAHA!" Pigma snorted, "That reward's as good as mine!"
"You son of a bitch, no!" Fox screamed, his Arwing blasting forward and finally closing the distance required to line up the best shot. Dozens of paired laser bolts punched into Pigma's rear, causing the fighter to swerve and jiggle through the air.
Pigma's Wolfen gave a short half-spin, then zoomed away off Peppy's tail.
"I'm alright, Fox, just keep him busy long enough for me to get out of here," Peppy Hare thanked, "I'm hit pretty bad; I can't stick around. Sorry guys, good luck!"
Peppy's Arwing yawed 180-degrees and took off into the sky, trailing black smoke and blue engine fire. As Peppy retreated, Wolf had the perfect opportunity to take a shot at the StarFox Team member, but he passed it up with a shrug.
That's twice ya' owe me, old man, Wolf thought.
Up ahead, Fox continued his pursuit of Pigma Dengar.
Pigma's Wolfen continued to evade Fox, the obese swine snorting with laughter and irking him on the entire way.
"Let's see what yuh got, Fox!" Pigma shot out, "Last time I saw yuh in an Arwing, it didn't work out too well!"
Fox dug his fingernails into the stick, gripping the controls angrily. How many times had Fox seen Pigma growing up, in his house, with his father, acting like he was an actual person worth the oxygen he was snorting down? He'd seen it for almost nine years of his life, almost as far back as Fox could remember James McCloud. It was like Pigma's betrayal tainted every happy memory of his childhood, all of the goodness being sucked out by the ugly truth underneath. This fucking swine had been the catalyst for ruining his life, making it possible for others to do the damage that Pigma hadn't done himself.
He needed to die.
"We TRUSTED you!" Fox roared, tapping the firing button, missing by what felt like millimeters as Pigma pulled into a tightening turn, "We fucking TRUSTED you!!!"
"Yeah, and look where it got yuh!" Pigma shot back.
Fox screamed with rage, finally able to line Pigma up and blasting him twice, each impact giving Fox a little more satisfaction. He barely even heard Wolf O'Donnell yell, "I said fight me!"
Fox's Arwing was suddenly rattled by a pair of laser impacts that stunned him out of his rage and reduced his shields to 49%.
"If ya' keep this up, you'll be seein' your dad real soon, kid," Wolf snarled over the comlink, "Especially since you're nowhere near as good as he was."
The fire inside Fox died, a new mix of fear and hate rising up within him. There seemed to be something almost childish in going after Pigma, when the ones most directly responsible for his father's death were people like Wolf.
Wolf chuckled darkly.
"That got your attention, now, didn't it?" O'Donnell sneered.
Fox broke off from behind Pigma, soaring into the air with his eyes locked onto the third black arrow remaining on his radar.
The arrow was flying away, now perhaps a kilometer past. Fox's radar suddenly lined up perfectly with the signature, and he looked up ahead to see the distant Wolfen suddenly loop around and head straight for him.
"Alright, kid, let's see if ya' can play with tha' big boys," Wolf rumbled, his star fighter suddenly blasting forward.
"Do not call me kid," Fox hissed through bared teeth, cranking the throttle up and feeling the cockpit rumble.
The two ships rocketed towards each other at near supersonic speeds, closing the distance to less than half a kilometer in a matter of seconds.
"Don't play chicken with me," Wolf menaced, "I don't blink."
"Neither do I," Fox returned.
"Only one way ta' find out," said Wolf.
The two fighters sped into each other and fired at point blank range, creating a rain of green and blue laser beams that crisscrossed between each other. Fox jerked the control stick into a barrel roll, the world spinning around him as the shields flared, and time seemed to slow down as the Wolfen suddenly came horrifically close. Locked in its own shield-flaring barrel roll, the lethal ship had no intention of backing down from Fox's challenge, and it suddenly became clear that it was too late to swerve away, too late to avoid a collision between the two star fighters.
Well that was pretty stupid, Fox thought to himself, possibly the last thought that would go through his head, and then closed his eyes.
The screech of impact was different from what Fox expected, a crackling scream of energy and a thundering boom like a pair of rocks being smashed together, accompanied by the force of being punched forward by momentum. The pilot's harness stopped Fox from flying into the transparisteel canopy at hundreds of kilometers per hour, tearing into his shoulders and whiplashing his face down into his chest violently before the inertial compensators could neutralize the motion in the cockpit. He could feel the impact in his teeth, feel them stressing nearly to the breaking point; had Fox's tongue been touching his jaws at the time, he would've bitten it off from the impact.
Fox threw his head back up to look out the cockpit, without enough time to wonder why neither him nor the ship were in a thousand pieces, and beheld the snowcapped ground rushing up to meet the Arwing.
Fox yanked the stick back as far as it could go, digging it into his groin as the engines screamed and the airframe groaned with the stress. The inertial compensators robbed the stiff, sudden climb of nearly all sensation, aside from the rattling sound of the ship as it tore desperately through the air. It was only after the Arwing had resumed safely climbing that Fox heard the raucous laughing over the comlink.
"Wahhahahahaha!!!" Wolf hooted, "Now that was original! Show me what else ya' got!"
Fox's nose wrinkled in disgust at his enemy's jubilation. There was something very wrong with this dog.
He quickly realized what must've happened: The shield energy that the two star fighters had built up during their respective barrel rolls was exponentially greater than the shield generators were regularly capable of. The purpose of the particle induction gimbal that flared the shields during barrel rolls was to allow the Arwing to survive short periods of heavy fire without the need for heavier shielding that would detract from performance. With both the Arwing and Wolfen engaged in energized barrel rolls at the time of impact, the energy of the opposing shield had repelled the other away, rather than allowing the two fighters to actually touch. It was sheer dumb luck that had smiled on the both of them, and Fox thought for an instant that it would've been smarter to just break off.
Still, it had stopped O'Donnell's jeers for the moment.
Fox leveled off and scanned his radar, observing the black arrow of the Wolfen coming up right behind him.
Fox cursed and yanked the stick to the side, diving diagonally downwards and to the left just as a series of red laser fire flashed through the air.
The Wolfen screamed into a broad turn outside Fox's dive, and Fox saw his opportunity, deciding to take it. He tapped on the gravity brakes to kill his airspeed just enough to turn as tight to the right as he needed, then slammed the throttle into full barely a hundred meters over the ground. The Arwing came back up just as the Wolfen reached the apex of its turn, the dorsal side exposed vulnerably before Fox. Fox pressed down on the firing button with relish, watching the green laser beams spit out of the cannons and punch into the Wolfen.
Wolf's fighter shook slightly, then barrel rolled and climbed diagonally upwards past Fox, cutting off any possible opportunities to take another shot.
"Let's see ya keep it up, kid," Wolf prodded.
Fox didn't respond. He only thought about James McCloud, and how this petty thug had something to do with his destruction. It made it so much easier to focus on flying rather than Wolf's taunts.
Fox pulled back on the stick and followed the black arrow on the radar into its turn, soaring just over the hourglass-shaped defense outpost. Far ahead, the glowing green engines of the Wolfen could be seen at the corner of his canopy. Fox recalled what Peppy had taught him during combat lessons: use your craft's capabilities to your advantage. The Arwing had greater maneuverability. It could out-turn the Wolfen in most situations.
The fighter climbed after its enemy, pulling into a tighter turning angle with a firm grip on the control stick. As the two ships blasted higher into the sky, the Arwing began to close the angle between its guns and the Wolfen's rear.
With a roar of the gravity brakes, the Wolfen suddenly halted and stalled in the air, twisting around and then blasting into a dive towards the ground in the opposite direction of Fox's climb. Fox shoved the stick forward to level the fighter off, watching the radar as the Wolfen flew out of visual range, diving to the ground and turning into the opposite direction of Fox's stiff path. Fox dove back down to intercept his enemy, taking the silent invitation to fight. As the Arwing sped to the ground, Fox pulled the stick into a graceful turn so that he'd be on another collision course with Wolf as soon as he completed the dive. Fox swooped down, wrapping around the outpost building, and found himself bearing back down on Wolf.
"Come here, ya preppy son of a bitch!" Wolf husked, "Come ta me! Hahahaha! I'm ready for it!!!"
Fox clenched his jaw and tapped the firing button, every time thinking about all the people that StarWolf had killed, all of the soldiers, all of the civilians, and finally, his father, each time receiving a feeling of relish as the green twin lasers shot out of the cannons.
The first blast of laser fire hit the Wolfen just before it entered into a barrel roll, the next three volleys reflected by the shimmering energy shields. Fox only got more furious. His anger no longer helped him focus. He could only think about how much he wanted to kill O'Donnell for all he'd done, all that he represented and all that it had taken from Fox and everyone else. He didn't notice the other black arrow coming up behind him on the radar screen.
Three concussive impacts rocked the Arwing, and Fox jerked the stick hard back to get out of the enemy firing solution. The fighter soared upwards as Wolf's fighter screamed past.
"The apple kindah falls far from the tree, don't it Fox?" Pigma gurgled as his Wolfen followed after Fox, "James would've nevah let that happen."
Fox glanced at his shield readout and hissed in worry at the 26% power reading. The Arwing's shields could only take a few hits before it started to incur physical damage. A few more after that would blow the fighter out of the sky.
"Get your lard ass outta here, Pigma!" Wolf screamed, "This shit's between him an' me!!"
"Grow the hell up, retard! I just did yuh a favor!" Pigma protested.
"I don't give a damn! He's mine! Take care 'a the frog for all I care, just break off and leave him ta' me!" Wolf snapped.
In the midst of all this, ROB-64 suddenly came over the comlink and announced, "You now have ten minutes before antimatter detonation."
During the entire fight, Fox had completely forgotten about the bomb and the hostages inside the outpost. Their survival far outweighed winning this fight with StarWolf. That bomb had to be the first priority. No matter what the fight itself might mean. Something else began to override Fox's anger, a rational responsibility that told him that James McCloud would've saved lives over defeating an enemy in any situation. Regardless of what avenging his father might mean, Fox couldn't honor him if revenge came at the cost of lives.
As Pigma Dengar broke off and Wolf O'Donnell began to come back around, Fox saw his perfect exit point. At the edge of the radar screen was the green arrow of Slippy Toad, while Falco's blue icon was still circling and twisting around an enemy black arrow.
"Slippy, Falco, try to keep these guys busy while you can!" Fox called into the microphone on his headset, "If it gets too heavy or if I'm not out in nine minutes, get out of here. I'm going after the bomb!"
Without waiting for a reply, Fox cut into a hard right, twisting the Arwing back around towards the Defense Outpost and engaging the gravity brakes as he descended his craft in the direction of one of the open landing bays.
Pigma Dengar's Wolfen urgently curved back around, taking a sloppy shot at Fox McCloud's Arwing before overshooting him in an attempt to stop the StarFox leader from reaching the landing bay's cavernous rectangular opening. Out of the corner of his canopy, Wolf could see the red laser miss graceful blue and white star fighter as it slowed to a near crawl and disappeared into the Defense Outpost's foundations.
"Since yuh only got one eye an' all, I'll fill in the blanks for yuh in case yuh can't see:" Pigma burped, "Little McCloud just got away because of your hard-on for taking the credit."
The insult was a mere raindrop on Wolf's fur amongst a downpour of other things racing through his mind, the preponderance of them concerning the idea that, if McCloud was landing his fighter, he would have to get out of it. This meant that, if Wolf was going to stop McCloud, he would have to get out, too. And if Wolf was going to get out, that meant stopping McCloud in a one-on-one fight.
Wolf had never really dwelt on the idea of the existence of God, in fact Wolf felt proud to claim that he had lived his entire life without the help of God or anyone else. However at that moment, with fortune proffering him what he wanted in every precise detail, Wolf considered the possibility that not only did the God Lyla exist, but that She wanted Wolf to bare-handedly kick Fox McCloud's ass.
Given this prospect, be it divine will or serendipity, the last thing Wolf was apt to do was spend a moment longer in the air.
"Oh, no, kid," Wolf growled softly, "This cluster-fuck ain't over yet."
"Pigma, concentrate on the frog. Leon, you're in charge, but just keep doin' what you're doin' with tha' bird if nothin' changes," Wolf instructed, "I'm goin' after 'im."
"I'm fine, just take care of yourself, Wolf," Leon returned briefly.
"Yuh wouldn't need tuh go after him if you had let me take him out!" Pigma croaked, "Numbskull."
"Sorry, Pigma, I'm busy right now. Can I ignore ya' some other time?" Wolf derided, disconnecting Pigma from his comm. channel.
Wolf guided his ship back around the Defense Outpost, tapping on the gravity brakes to kill his speed, locking his eye on an opening to the landing bay. He pressed a button on the G-diffuser controls to re-configure them for a hover protocol, feeling the Wolfen drop its speed and descend. Above, Leon Powalski and Falco Lombardi continued with their aerial deadlocking duel, and Pigma Dengar began a pursuit of a thoroughly distressed Slippy Toad.
Wolf O'Donnell's paw gripped onto the throttle as the Wolfen descended low to the ground, coming to a hover just above the surface and kicking up a funnel of snow all around it. He configured the Wolfen's automatic pilot to engage and guide the craft to a stop as soon as it detected him leaving the cockpit. He then wrapped his free hand around the emergency canopy release, securing the control stick with his knees. He'd wanted an excuse to try this trick for a while.
Wolf wanted to make an entrance.
Fox's grey boots hit the metal floor of the landing bay with a slight echo. The sterile coolness, harsh industrial lights and near total silence of the cavernous hangar highlighted the sense of emptiness that Fox felt, at least in the sense that the space was empty of all living things other than himself. The huge space was rather disorganized for a hangar bay, shaped almost like a huge triangle, with three immense openings to the landing bay at each wall. The space in front of these openings was clear to make way for any entering or exiting craft.
Nearer to the center was a large open space with a mobile Venomian hypermatter fusion reactor, around which were dozens of scorch marks from where the Invader I fighters must have taken off. More towards the center was the grey durasteel skeleton of a fighter storage rack, built to automatically store and deploy the outpost's small compliment of outdated Cornerian IF-14 Ultima star fighters. The rack was empty, the fighters probably destroyed or confiscated after the Venomians took the outpost. Next to the rack was a grey cylindrical storage tank for the tylim fuel that the old Ultimas burned, perhaps five meters wide and ten meters tall. Dominating the center of the hangar bay was a huge warehouse section of steel cargo containers, stacked on top of each other and grouped around in a veritable maze of boxes that were in equal numbers of Cornerian forest green and Venomian rust red.
Beyond the maze of boxes, Fox could see four thick industrial cables trailing down from the ceiling above, probably connecting to a huge freight lift for the outpost. A stairwell or turbolift to the rest of the outpost could likely be found around there; Fox doubted that neither the hostages nor the antimatter bomb could be found in such an obvious place as the hangar bay.
He unclipped the cover over the holster of his sidearm, resting a hand on the protruding grip of his Cornerian ArmsCor EE-40 blaster pistol, modified for rapid fire at the cost of somewhat decreased stopping power. Though he doubted that any Venomian soldiers remained in the base with the bomb so close to detonation, it made Fox feel more confident when faced with the fact that he had less than ten minutes to find the bomb and disarm it. This was despite the fact that the only place Fox had shot the blaster pistol was a firing range. He would've felt much better if he had the body armor and the rifles that Peppy's Arwing had been carrying, and gave himself an irritated, silent scolding for not keeping his body armor and weapons in his own ship.
Fox had parked his Arwing close to the open space where the Invader Is had rested, with the hangar bay entrance that he had utilized behind him and the entrances of the other wall of the base somewhat perpendicular to him. He moved towards the complex stack of boxes and the freight lift on the other side, his rounded orange-furred ears perked to detect any sound that might be heard. There was only silence, which was somehow more disconcerting than any noise.
All of Fox's fur was on end, the flesh of his arms tingling under his white Team StarFox jacket from both the coldness of the room and an instinctive feeling of unease. His bushy tail slowly twitched, his trimmed whiskers quivered, as his instincts told him that something was wrong. His ears pricked as a high-pitched whine could be heard, and he looked in the direction of the sound as it grew alarmingly louder.
Through the farthest hangar opening in the opposite wall came a large grey and red blur, trailing a tail of bright green fire as it screamed into the hangar bay. Just before it disappeared behind the maze of boxes, Fox saw a brown smudge leap forward from the blur. His body went stiff and his fingers wrapped around the grip of his blaster as the Wolfen star fighter's autopilot guided the hovering ship near the back of the hangar bay, where its green engine fires died and it rested on its landing legs, the transparisteel canopy lifted upwards in the open position.
This wasn't good.
The bomb was going to explode in less than ten minutes, turning everything within a hundred kilometers into a crater. Wolf (or at least Fox figured it was) was standing somewhere in between Fox and the bomb, which meant that Fox had to either kill him or convince O'Donnell to put their fight on hold so that Fox could save the hostages.
And Wolf didn't strike Fox as the convincible type.
"You just don't know how long I've waited for this, kid," Wolf's dark, guttural voice echoed through the landing bay, "It's like I've been stuck in some time warp on Giftmas Eve, and after all a' these years it's finally time ta' open my presents. It's a beautiful thing."
"Is that what you told all the people on Macbeth before you and your friends murdered them?" Fox demanded in an acid tone, slowly withdrawing his blaster pistol as he made his way towards the maze of boxes.
"Don't believe all tha' propaganda ya' hear, kid," Wolf replied in a shrugging manner, "I don't think it's all that fun ta' kill someone that doesn't fight back. Sure, one 'a my friends might've got a little carried away on Macbeth an' had a little too much fun, an' maybe I'm just a bit of an overachiever when there's a lot a' targets flyin' around. But I'm a soldier. I'm a fighter. Not a murderer."
"Yeah, you're just misunderstood. Some poor guy that looks the part. And all the stuff they say about you is just lies to make you look like the bad guy," Fox mocked dismissively.
"Now I wouldn't say that…" Wolf remarked impishly, "I'm just a dog doin' what he's told, and gettin' a little enjoyment out of it. But I'm not such a bad guy when ya get ta' know me."
"I'm sure Andross says the same thing," Fox quipped, walking amongst the towering stacks of metal crates, listening for any clue of Wolf's location. He quietly clicked the safety off of the blaster, feeling the grip warm up in his hands.
"Wouldn't know," Wolf came back, his growls echoing amongst the crates, "Can't say I'm a friend. Wouldn't even call myself a fan."
Fox's snout rippled in disgust, his upper lip baring his teeth as he said, "From what I hear the both of you had ringside tickets to watch my father die."
He could hear a slight huff of breath, so faint that Fox couldn't tell if it was an affronted scoff or a sadistic chuckle.
"Again, don't believe everything ya' hear," Wolf intoned, "It ain't like I had a choice. It was either sit down and watch or insult tha' boss-man and lose everything I'd just got. If it'd been my choice, I would've caught 'im an' let him go. He deserved better. Someone like James McCloud deserves ta' either live free or die a warrior's death. I valued him a lot."
Fox's muscles tensed, and his blood steamed with indignant loathing as he squeezed the pistol grip so hard that he almost pulled the trigger.
Somehow, it was worse than if Wolf had described a passionate hate for James McCloud that culminated in him personally beating and torturing his father to death. The mere suggestion that this monster could've respected or valued his father the way a good person would made Wolf all the more revolting to Fox.
"You don't know a goddamned thing about my father," Fox snarled.
"Ya' really think so?" Wolf posited, "Or is it 'cause you're maybe a little jealous? Is it because you said goodbye ta' your daddy without knowin' you'd never see him again, while I saw 'im in his last moments? Is it 'cause ya' knew him as some perfect hero father, while I got ta' see what the real James McCloud was, what James McCloud tha' warrior was like? Ya' think it's 'cause, in that brief time I knew him, maybe I mighta' known him a little better than you did?"
Fox's eyes widened in outrage, his mouth suddenly tasting stale and dry with fury.
"You fucking wolf trash," Fox hissed.
"Why we gotta bring race inta' this? That's one a' tha' biggest reasons this war got started in tha' first place," Wolf responded in a calm rumble that further outraged Fox, "But, then again, you wouldn't know that. You're Fox McCloud. You've never gone a day in your life when you wished you were different or felt ashamed ta' be you, because your father was tha' fuckin' hero of Lylat, and you never had ta' worry about bein' poor or bein' alone or bein' hated, 'cause nobody hates tha' son of a hero. But the hero's gone, now. You're all that's left, and as much as you want to, you can't fill your daddy's shoes. Because you never had ta' work for it. You don't deserve it. And that's why Lylat's doomed. 'Cause there's no hero ta' save her from forgotten children like me."
Fox's reflexes were on a hair trigger as his head darted around the corridor of metal crates, his blood burning like acid in his veins every second that passed without killing Wolf.
"You better hope your arms and legs are as good as your mouth," Fox growled, "Because I'm going to break every bone in your body. Get out here!! Where are you?!?!"
"Right here," Wolf answered.
A swirling of cloth was all that Fox heard as warning before the brown smudge appeared once again, flying from around the corner into the corridor wall then to the opposite wall, then leaping through the air and swiping out with an outstretched foot that slammed into Fox's chest and threw him backwards. Fox was launched into a stack of hard metal crates, crashing into them with his back and dropping to his knees as the brown blur sprinted along the metal floor towards him, then leapt once more through the air. The smudge kicked him again, booting Fox in his upper chest as he knelt down, using Fox's body as a springboard to leap backwards and to blast Fox back into the metal crates.
The headset rounding the back of his skull was the only thing that prevented Fox from suffering a concussion as his head pounded into one of the crates, his neck stinging from the multiple traumas it had suffered in the past few minutes.
Halfway on his knees and halfway on his ass, Fox looked up painfully just as the brown smudge landed on the floor. The blur softened into a brown overcoat, draped over the arms and shoulders of a lanky 19 year-old wolf with scruffy grey fur, sharp claws on each digit and ears pointed enough to be horns. He wore a black and white flight suit and a red scarf that seemed to mimic the trademark scarves of Team StarFox. Most prominent of all was the wolf's eyes. The right eye was hard and fierce, but colored a bright lavender hue. The left eye was covered by a black eye patch.
Wolf O'Donnell delivered a roguish, crooked smile of canine teeth, his eye leering challengingly.
"Let's see if you can bring it," he growled.
As Fox McCloud gathered himself to his feet, Wolf examined his enemy for the first time in the flesh. There was a mix of the familiar and the new that Wolf couldn't decide whether he liked or hated. Fox's head and body were shaped very similarly to how Wolf remembered James' to look, however the color of the fur was definitely more orange-red than James' brownish-gold, the eyes a deep emerald green as opposed to the sunglasses-covered pale blues of Wolf's childhood idol and one-time foe. The white Team StarFox jacket hadn't changed from the design that James had worn, however the flight suit was army green instead of blue and forest green. The scarf was red instead of orange-yellow, and Wolf was unsure of whether it reflected good insight or lack of originality that he had chosen the same color for himself. In the fox's hand was a Cornerian blaster pistol, held somewhat insecurely due to the daze of being kicked into a metal crate. Wolf hoped Fox didn't try to use it, at least too much. It would take all the fun out of the fight if he had to pull out his disruptor too early and vaporize McCloud.
Then the emerald eyes met Wolf's single lavender orb, and he could see the inferno behind them: Fox wanted to use his hands, he wanted to hurt Wolf, not shoot him.
This was going to be fun.
Fox instinctively shoved his pistol back into the holster, his training at the Academy flowing back to him as if he had been sparring with Bill Grey under the stern eye of Sergeant Gulo Brass a mere hour ago. He flew to his feet and charged forward, drawing his right fist back for a strike at Wolf's face. Fox's fist slugged forward, very nearly connecting with Wolf's nose before O'Donnell darted under and to the side of Fox's arm, grabbing Fox by his extended elbow and jerking him forward. Wolf's other hand was there to meet him as Fox was yanked ahead, whacking into his throat in a crushing knifehand strike that left him choking for air. Wolf's hand slipped around Fox's neck and grabbed the back of his head, proceeding to shove his face into the metal crates in front of him.
The sound of banging metal was joined by a dull explosion of pain in Fox's face, blinding him for a split second as Wolf drew Fox's head back again, his other hand twisting Fox's once-outstretched arm behind his back. Wolf shoved Fox's head into the crates once more, this time Fox tilted his head down, ramming into the crate with the part of his headset that extended between his ears, absorbing the impact. Wolf began to further twist Fox's arm, and he kicked into the nearby wall of crates, sending both himself and Wolf backwards. Wolf attempted to steady himself, and Fox bent his head forward, out of Wolf's grip, then forcefully swung it back upwards, bashing Wolf's snout with the back of his head.
Wolf let out a grunt of pain, his grip loosening on Fox's arm, just as Fox drew his left elbow up then back into Wolf's ribs, knocking him backwards and breaking his hold on Fox. With his now freed right arm, Fox twisted around with his fist extended, hoping to pound the side of Wolf's jaw.
Wolf caught Fox's arm by the wrist and drew back his other arm, striking forward with the intention of breaking Fox's ulna. Fox dropped to the ground, dragging Wolf down with him before yanking his hand back. Fox proceeded to grab Wolf's arm in his left hand, then twisted around and threw Wolf forward over his shoulder with a loud yell, using his enemy's weight against him. O'Donnell flew forward with a whoosh of his coat and a surprised yelp, slamming into the metal floor onto his back.
Fox swung his leg high into the air, bringing his grey boot down in a forceful axe-kick that Wolf blocked with his arms and then grabbed a hold of Fox's ankle with one arm and shoved into the rear of his thigh with another as he sat upwards, throwing Fox off balance and to the side. Fox stumbled into the metal crates, ramming them with his left shoulder as Wolf rolled onto his feet and sprung forwards. Fox put up his arms to block against Wolf's punch, only to feel a stinging, tearing pain in his arm as Wolf tore into Fox's forearm with his claws. Fox gave out a yell of more surprise than pain, feeling the hot rush of blood soaking his fur as it oozed from the four newly-opened wounds in his skin. He lunged to the side as O'Donnell's claws swiped out again, missing his face and instead scraping into a storage crate's metal siding.
Fox jabbed at Wolf's unprotected side, only to have it slapped away just as Wolf twisted around and stabbed into Fox's chest with his fingers held out straight. The bladelike claws tore through Fox's flight suit and sunk into his chest, four thick nails that scratched him from the inside and ripped at the holes in Fox's flesh as Wolf withdrew them. Fox let out a cry of pain as Wolf brought back fingers covered in Fox's blood, a wicked grin on his face.
Fox bared his teeth, yowling as he swung at Wolf's sneering face, receiving a stiff block before Wolf shoved forward and flicked his blood-covered fingers in his face, peppering Fox's visage with specks of his own blood. The StarFox leader bellowed and swiped out again, and Wolf dodged with a swift hop backwards. Fox spun into a roundhouse kick with his left leg, striking Wolf on the shoulder with a satisfying crack and sending him into the metal crates. O'Donnell grunted as he smashed into the metal, taken by surprise.
Fox took the opening to deliver another kick, pivoting his hips to the left as he struck with a right leg roundhouse kick. With a single, fluid snapping motion, Wolf's arms intercepted and wrapped around Fox's leg, trapping it with a feral grin. O'Donnell twisted around and swung Fox through the air by his leg, 180-degrees around into the metal crate wall. An echoing metal crash accompanied a surge of crunching pain that shot through Fox's side as Wolf released him and he stumbled backwards. Wolf's overcoat suddenly billowed like a pair of dusty wings as the lupine leapt into the air and delivered a flying side kick that plowed into Fox's sternum and blasted him backwards.
Fox felt the sensation of flying backwards for a brief second, accompanied with jarring pain in his chest from the claw puncture wounds and the fact that the kick had knocked the wind out of his lungs. He then crashed into the unforgiving metal floor, rolling once uncontrollably before coming to a rest about two meters away from Wolf.
The one-eyed Wolf smirked darkly, cocking his head in curiosity.
"Copied that one from your daddy," Wolf remarked, "Thought ya' should know."
Fox let out a growl, oblivious to the blood that was soaking his right arm and chest. He yanked his blaster pistol out of the holster, already squeezing on the trigger as he brought it to aim.
The EE-40 barked as it spat out ruby red blaster bolts that seared through the air around Wolf, who bounded through the air and bounced off of crates to dodge Fox's line of fire. As the StarWolf leader's boots pounded the metal floor, Fox could see a long-barreled pistol in the lupine's hand with a rotating gas chamber. He leapt to his feet and dove to the right just as a yellow disruptor beam spat from the barrel of the pistol, burning through the space he'd formerly occupied and blowing a meter-sized crater into the floor. Fox slid across the ground, bringing his blaster pistol up and pulling back on the trigger repeatedly like a person scratching an itch. Wolf darted to the side, but not before a single red shot grazed his arm with a sizzle and a roar of pain.
Fox was trying to get to his feet just as Wolf swung the disruptor pistol back up, and he somersaulted forward out of the path of another vaporizing disruptor beam. Fox was on his feet and sprinting at Wolf the next moment, firing his blaster wildly to establish some form of cover. O'Donnell dove to the side, rolling over his shoulder to avoid the laser bolts, coming out of the roll on his knees and bringing his disruptor back up as Fox reached him.
Fox's hand shot out and shoved Wolf's arm violently upwards, the StarWolf leader instinctively firing. The yellow beam flashed upwards, blasting into the ceiling and raining down near-disintegrated ferroconcrete masonry. Wolf shot out with the flat of his hand, shooting up from his feet and striking Fox's bottom jaw. While Fox was stunned, Wolf grabbed Fox's red scarf and yanked forward, viciously head-butting Fox between the eyes and sending him stumbling backwards. Heat and throbbing pain accompanied a white flash that momentarily blinded Fox. The next Fox could see of Wolf was as he lunged forward and shoved outward with both palms, launching Fox further backwards.
Fox collapsed against a stack of crates, his breath ragged and labored, his fur soaked with sweat and blood. Through his damaged headset, he could just barely hear ROB-64's garbled voice: "—arning: You—ow have two minut—before antimat—r detonation."
A sense of urgency and danger came over Fox. He now had less than sixty seconds to either find and disarm the bomb or escape. The Arwing would take about a minute from launch at full throttle to clear the one hundred kilometer blast radius of the antimatter bomb. And the ever present matter that there were still civilian hostages possibly somewhere in this building remained in the air, adding to the time crisis.
A few meters before him, Wolf O'Donnell let out a deep chuckle, licking Fox's blood off of one of his fingers.
"I 'dunno if you're tha' challenge I've been waitin all 'a this time for, but you're interestin', I'll give ya' that," Wolf appraised, "You an' me? I think we can get along just fine. Huh-huh-huh. Yeah. I can see us doin' this for a long time."
"Wolf," Fox croaked urgently, putting a hand over his blood-soaked chest, "If it's me you want, you can have me… But there are people in here. Please. Just stop the bomb until they get out of here."
"I don't wanna kill ya," Wolf protested with a deviant grin, "Not yet, anyhow. We just met. Why step on the gas that early?"
"You'll die, too, if you don't leave soon. We all will," Fox growled.
"What, leave so ya' can go out like a martyr on some desperate search for the bomb? How 'bout you leave, huh? Live ta' fight another day," Wolf reasoned, "I told ya' not ta' play chicken with me, kid. I don't blink. At least not near as much as you."
Wolf then playfully winked his eye, tapping on the fabric of his eye patch.
"This isn't a game, O'Donnell!" Fox snarled, "Real people are going to die in less than two minutes!"
"And what's tha' difference ta' me? The only thing I have ta' do is make sure you fail. Ya see, that's why you're never gonna beat me. You play by too many rules, an' I play with almost none. You wanna save tha' galaxy, be tha' hero, do tha' right thing," Wolf sneered, "Where's with me, tha' thing of it is: I don't give a shit."
Fox found that he had no words to say, nothing he could think of sounded like it would make a difference in the day's outcome or like it would make a difference to Wolf. All that he could do was stare at the single lavender eye and the merciless scoundrel grin on Wolf's face, and know that Wolf was somehow more dangerous than even Andross himself.
Wolf's grin softened into a smirk, and he cocked his head smugly, adding, "What's more, I think you're down ta' less than thirty seconds ta' find tha' bomb or get your ass outta here. Ya' can either die a loser or you can cut your losses an' keep fightin'. I think we both know what James McCloud woulda done. Give it some thought, kid."
The lupine pressed a button on a wrist pad under the sleeve of his overcoat, then rushed over to the Wolfen star fighter as its engines activated with a high-pitched whine.
Fox followed Wolf with hollow, helpless eyes.
The StarWolf leader leapt onto one of the Wolfen's four bladelike wings, then threw himself into the cockpit and guided the fighter around until it was pointed towards the hangar bay exit.
"Either way, though, it looks like I win this one…" Wolf snarled, then adding scornfully, "StarFox."
The Wolfen's canopy tilted down and covered the cockpit before the ship blasted out of the hangar bay with a streak of green fire.
Fox shuddered and squinted his eyes, clenching his jaw in anguish. He'd failed. They had lost. The only difference was if it was going to be their first failure or their final battle. Something tugged at Fox's heart, begging him to stay and at least try, or die with the hostages some where in here, as an act of principle. But he couldn't.
He was either too smart or too cowardly.
Fox didn't want to know which.
He heavily ran back to the Arwing, climbed into the cockpit and activated the fighter quickly, the G-diffusers lifting the ship into a hover in a matter of seconds. The canopy slid down over him, and he throttled up, hearing the engines roar as the Arwing shot forward, out of the landing bay and into the snowy landscape.
"Fox!" Falco came out over the comlink, "They left, all three of 'em! Does that mean ya' disarmed the bomb?"
Fox cringed once again, feeling a pain in his chest that was distinct from the injuries he'd sustained during the fight.
"Negative," Fox groaned, "I ran out of time. We have to clear the blast radius."
"But what about those people?!" Falco demanded, "They're still in there!!"
"I know, Falco!!" Fox roared, "There's no time!! Accelerate to full throttle and pull into a forty five degree climb, we've got less than a minute to go a hundred kilometers, we have to get out of here now!"
"I can't believe we're leaving them…" Slippy moaned.
"There's nothing we can do, Slip, now go!" Fox ordered, "Go! Get the hell out of here!"
"Yes, sir," Slippy responded quietly.
Fox pulled up into a diagonal climb, joining up in formation with the other two Arwings and cranking the throttle all the way up, creating a huge sonic boom as the three fighters rocketed away into the sky.
Fox forced his eyes shut, tried not to hear it or see it when it happened, but knew it was impossible at this close range. The three Arwings had barely made it 120 kilometers away before there was a brilliant flash of white light, visible even through Fox's closed eyelids. An echoing, planet-shaking blast was audible from even that far away as the antimatter bomb detonated and reduced the Defense Outpost and everything in it to ash.
Peppy's voice came over the comlink just as the Arwings made it back into space, the graceful Great Fox waiting in the distance: "I know this is hard for all of you. But this is war. You can't avoid losses. In fact, you should be thankful for every victory, because it just as easily could've been a loss. We can't be perfect. We can't save everybody. But we can keep going…And that's what we're going to do."
Peppy's words were of little help to Fox.
He swallowed once and touched the old Cornerian Flight Academy badge on his coat collar, the one that had belonged to his father.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Fox whispered, "I'm sorry…"
Three Wolfen star fighters streaked through space, on a return course to the Lone Wolf over the planet of Fichina.
"I must say, Commander O'Donnell, how thoroughly surprised I am," IG-N 96 remarked over the comlink, "The mission's level of success was less than ideal, however I'm quite sure that StarFox has been heavily discredited by your efforts. The destruction of the Defense Outpost has likely crippled enemy efforts to establish a base on Fichina, and there will surely be more opportunities for StarWolf to intercept and destroy StarFox in the future. Some regards may well be in order…sir."
Wolf smiled to himself and said into the comlink, "Well, shit, if IG's impressed, ya' know we did something impressive."
"Fuck yeah, we won!!" Pigma shouted, "When we get back to Zoness, we're goin' to a titty bar, my treat!"
Neither Wolf nor Leon indicated any enthusiasm for the idea.
Wolf sighed proudly, and turned off the comlink for a private moment. He felt the metal contours of the Wolfen's interior, and flexed his claws fondly. He thanked both of them for their steadfast service to him.
Then he tilted his head back and howled in triumph.
Woah. I had fun doing that. Thus concludes the second part of War Stories. The next arc will detail the end of the war, and how Fox, Wolf and the entire galaxy are changed by the time it is over. In the meantime, you could leave me some praise. For those (sadists) of you in the audience that appreciate my depiction of Wolf, maybe you can tell me how much you liked that I finally wrote a story where Wolf wins. Those purists in the audience might remark on how unusual it is to see StarFox actually lose for once. See the pattern? Your reviews help me write, not only by giving me the encouragement to continue but reminding me that people actually read this story. Seriously. Review more and you'll see chapters come out faster. Ta-ta for now -TU