AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alright, it's totally unrealistic to think that the StarFox Team could breach the defenses over Venom when the Cornerian Starfleet was unable to, like in Star Fox 64. Instead, they would do like a real military force does, and slip in under the defenses while the big guns duke it out to provide a distraction. I wanted to give a different take on space battles than usual here, sort of an 'everyday hero' kind of story to contrast with the state-of-the-art warfare that StarFox is able to wage. This was influenced by a mix of the Battle of Midway and the Battle of Endor in Return of the Jedi. Enjoy!-TU
-The Battle of Venom-
The Space Dynamics prototype R-16 star fighter, along with the R-64 Arwing that was developed from it (and the VenCom B-35 Wolfen that was reverse-engineered from it) followed the design principle of a highly-advanced next-generation space superiority fighter that could outperform anything else in the Lylat System. All were powered by a miniaturized solar ionization reactor that could provide essentially indefinite power as long as the reactions were isolated, which posed no danger of explosion in the event of something going wrong. All three fighters also revolved around Space Dynamics' revolutionary zero-point ambient gravity field diffusion system (g-diffuser, for short), which could gather and manipulate any ambient gravitational force around the ship to give incredible maneuverability as well as additional power without adding to gross mass.
These systems were also extremely high-maintenance, prohibitively expensive and mostly untested, which essentially restricted both the Arwing and the Wolfen to the specialized operations of StarFox and StarWolf.
The Fantomas Hypernautics J-4 Comet fighter of the Cornerian Starfleet, however, was a totally different story. The Comet was the logical next step rather than the giant leap forward of the Arwing and Wolfen, a practical update of the IF-14 Ultima star fighters of the pre-war period.
As Major Bill Grey did a last minute systems check inside the cockpit of his Comet, he worked to banish the thoughts in his head of how StarFox had it so much easier than those in the Starfleet, including himself. Despite the maintenance issues of the Arwings, they didn't suffer from any of the drawbacks that the Comets had by comparison.
Unlike the solar ionization reactor and g-diffusion systems of an Arwing, the Comet was powered by a series of tradium fuel cells that fed power to its twin over-and-under ion thrusters. This meant that the Comets needed to be periodically refueled with tradium, a high-density liquid fuel that could turn the fighter into a firebomb if it were to be critically hit in a vital fuel area. It was a considerable improvement over the tylim fuel of the older Ultimas, which was known to spontaneously combust merely if enough stress was put upon the fighter's structure (not to mention the cheaper Venomian design practice of 'recharging' star fighters with hypermatter, which was radioactive and carcinogenic in addition to being incredibly explosive). Still, the improvement sounded rather pathetic next to the fact that the Arwing and the Wolfen didn't really need to be re-fueled, since the fusion reaction and the g-diffuser systems were self-sustaining.
The Comet's ion thrusters were also much less powerful than the Arwing's single plasma thruster, however they did have a level of maneuverability and reliability that the Arwing could lack on occasion. The shield system of the J-4 was around the same level as that of the Arwing; however it lacked a particle induction gimbal that flared the shields to near-exponential levels during barrel rolls. Additionally, the Comet had only one laser cannon as opposed to the Arwing's twin guns, but this fact was mitigated by the Comet having a much higher rate of fire than the Arwing. Though the Comet had capacity for only two nova bombs as opposed to the Arwing's six bomb magazine, it also had hard-points on its sloping wings for missiles, munitions pods and external fuel tanks.
Bill pressed a small button on the arm of his flight suit, doing a pressure check and seeing through the clear acrylic glass of his helmet visor that his suit was completely sealed and safe. He again thought back to the conveniences of the Arwing, as opposed to his Comet. All Comet pilots wore pressurized flight suits with sealed helmets and oxygen tanks, in order to ensure survival in the vacuum of space if one needed to eject. Contrariwise, the ejector seat of an Arwing was equipped with a compressed air tank and a magnetic shield generator, essentially able to create a small sealed 'bubble' of air around the pilot and ejector seat, thus eliminating the need for a suit.
Bill then shifted back into the seat and checked over all of the analog gages and switches that were scattered around the control console, markedly different from the integrated avionics and advanced flight controls present in the Arwing. All systems appeared to be nominal. He looked out the side of his cockpit bubble, to the sleek wings painted green and silver. On the edge of one of the wings was the basic stenciled namesake Miss Margaret, one of Bill's on-and-off girlfriends during his academy years. Bill's Comet had been modified by the deck crew of Bulldog and Husky squadrons, perhaps with the knowledge of his admiration of Team StarFox. The modifications had increased the speed of the Comet and included a particle induction gimbal to allow the ship to execute shield-flaring barrel rolls like the Arwings. Bill was gracious to his deck crew, and he loved Miss Margaret.
But she wasn't an Arwing.
The whirring of hydraulic equipment got Bill's attention, and he felt the lurching feeling of movement as a massive elevator platform lowered Miss Margaret down below the hangar deck floor and into a dark, mechanical tunnel. Another whining behind him was the only warning Bill received as the thick robotic arm of a rail gun catapult coupled with Miss Margaret's undercarriage and lifted the fighter sideways through the tunnel and out the end into the cavernous open space that made up the launch bay of the Ajax. At both sides of the interior of the battle carrier's open 'mouth' were three rail gun catapults that connected to the flight elevators of the ten hangar decks of the ship. These catapults were positioned one on top of the other, to allow up to six fighters at a time (a fourth of a squadron) to be launched from the bay, and could withdraw and be ready to fire another six fighters in thirty seconds. At the bottom of the launch bay was a series of three magnetic pads on which small shuttles could be immediately launched. Currently, the pink Cat's Paw of Katt Monroe was secured to one of the pads, unable to utilize the launch catapults. To the rear of the launch bay was the stretching landing lights for the fighters to return and make a landing back into the ship. To the front, where Bill's eyes were locked, was the Ajax's gaping mouth, opening hundreds of meters wide to reveal the vast star field of space.
"Point squadron, Pack Leader," Bill announced into his microphone, "Confirm systems go and standing by."
One by one, the six other fighters ready to launch reported in by their individual call signs.
"Rev standing by," called Flight Officer Russell "Rev" Parks, a Schnauzer that had joined Bill's attachment on Katina before he had. Rev's easygoing coolness had prompted Bill to promote him to Flight Officer, making him one of the higher-ranking pilots in Bulldog Squadron.
"Zippa standing by," replied Lieutenant Kylie "Zippa" Rayes. Zippa was a leporid that had been a three time all-conference sprinter at the University of Pennopolis on Corneria, whose flying style apparently mirrored her running style.
"Crashdown standing by," responded Junior Lieutenant Gaston "Crashdown" Bates, a vulpine and one of the youngest pilots in Bulldog squadron. He'd earned the namesake because of his miserable, near-failing record in the simulators during training, which only irritated him since his cockpit flight record was completely accident-free.
"Stovetop standing by," called Lieutenant Saul "Stovetop" Beckett. Stovetop was an enhydra originally from Zoness, known for his ability to cook an exceptional homemade clam chowder. Over the course of the war Stovetop had developed a somewhat cynical disposition rife with cruel sarcasm that was characteristic of the enhydra temper; Bill was sure it had a lot to do with what the Venomians did to Zoness, the heinousness of which had traumatized and galvanized the patriotism of many off-world otters since.
"Junkie standing by," called in Lieutenant Adam "Junkie" Thrace. Junkie had enlisted in the Cornerian Starfleet after undergoing rehabilitation for stimulant addiction, working his way up to a commissioned officer position by the age of thirty one. Though the ram's nerves were still a little jumpy, he'd garnered a lot of respect from the other pilots, and Bill definitely trusted him.
They were good pilots to launch with.
Bill corrected himself. All of his pilots, all forty-eight in Bulldog and Husky squadrons, were good pilots. And some of them wouldn't survive this battle.
"Katt standing by," Katt Monroe said over the comm. Bill looked out of the corner of the cockpit, down below to the magnetic pad where the Cat's Paw was moored. He still didn't know quite what to make of the fashion-conscious mercenary pilot. He hoped she had enough tricks to back up all of her talk. Then Bill smiled when he realized that Fox probably thought the same thing about Falco.
"Ajax, Pack Leader," Bill addressed his microphone, "Point squadron is all systems go and standing by for deployment."
"Copy, Pack Leader," the Ajax's communications officer replied, "Will issue tactical updates as they become available. Prepare for immediate post-warp deployment and stand by until further instructions."
"Copy, Ajax, Pack Leader out," Bill replied, sitting back.
The moment of radio silence lasted for barely a minute before someone got tired of it.
"Hey, Crashdown," Junkie called suddenly.
"What?" Crashdown replied.
"You gonna call that girl?" Junkie probed.
"Yeah, I was wondering that myself," Rev added over the comlink.
Crashdown began to respond, "I--"
Zippa quickly cut him off with a protest of, "Hold up, Crashdown's got a girl? When did this happen?"
"Gee, Zippa, don't act too surprised," Crashdown replied dryly.
"She's mortified of the idea that she's not the girl in question. Zippa's confused when it's not her sex life on the table," Stovetop commented in such a snarky tone that Bill could almost see the otter's furry muzzle smirking in his head.
"Oh, come on, she's not that bad," Junkie countered in a manner that sounded like an effort to prevent conflict, but Bill could tell that Junkie was setting Stovetop up to say something particularly nasty. Junkie and Stovetop were occasional partners in crime.
"What are you talking about?" Stovetop demanded, "The only three things we talk about are sports, regular gossip and who Zippa's mate of the day is. The Octagon finals are on hold for the war, no one's done anything but work for the past week, and Zippa's still managed to find no shortage of things to screw so guess what we'll be talking about?"
"Shut up," Zippa growled, insulted, changing her tone as she said, "But seriously, what's this about a girl, Crashdown?"
"This Junior Lieutenant with the fourteenth bomber group gave Crashdown her televox number. Very easy on the eyes." Rev jumped in before Crashdown could give his own explanation.
"She's a Junior Lt.? So that means no harm no foul with fraternization!" Zippa remarked, "What's she look like?"
"Tall, grayish fur, nice legs. Heard a rumor she was half wolf," Junkie submitted.
"Whoa, Crashdown, taking a walk on the wild side, huh?" Zippa teased, "So, you gonna call her?"
"Because if you aren't, I just might," Rev chuckled.
"But seriously, are you gonna call her?" Zippa repeated.
"I dunno, are you guys going to give me a chance to speak?" Crashdown sighed.
"Quit dodging the question," Junkie rebuked, "Are you going to give her a call?"
"I haven't yet," Crashdown said with a verbal shrug.
There was a brief pause, after which Junkie replied, "If you make it out of here, you should give her a call."
There was another moment of silence. This time it was uncomfortable. Bill was unsurprised when Stovetop tried to take their minds off the subject with an insult.
"Way to change the subject on me back there, Zippa. Why should I shut up? Does the truth hurt?" Stovetop shrugged, "I don't want to say you get around, but there's a scientist back at UPenn that thinks a black hole is forming between your legs."
"Zing!" Junkie remarked quickly in a flat tone.
"Kiss my ass, Stovetop!!" Zippa snapped, the comm. channel crackling with static.
"I'd love to," Stovetop retorted, "Just give me a where and a when, honey."
Zippa shot back, "You better watch your mouth; I might not have your back out there when you need it--"
"Hey! Kids," Bill suddenly erupted over the comm., "We're on the same side, remember? Let's save the anger for the other guys."
"Yessir," Zippa replied neutrally.
"Yes, Major," Stovetop came back.
"Try to play nice for a while," Bill commanded softly, shutting off his comm. channel to the other fighters for a moment. The only pilot with an open channel to him was Katt Monroe.
"Hey," Bill intoned into his microphone.
"Yeah?" Katt responded.
"My group is going to be concentrating on Area Six," Bill explained awkwardly, "We're going to try to clear a path through it and hit some of the defenses head-on so that they don't take out too many fighters. Also going to be keeping an eye out for that Gorgon thing of theirs. You should follow us. You've got a larger bomb magazine, and I'll recognize you and have your back. That sounds like the best option."
"I know that, Bill," Katt affirmed, and then she probed, "You didn't really have to explain that. Is something on your mind?"
Too much to say, Bill thought.
"Just nerves, I guess," Bill shrugged, "Anyone that says they're not scared of going into battle is a liar. I've been lucky so far. I'm a little worried that my luck's going to run out."
"That's just normal, isn't it?" Katt presented, "Getting scared of death before battle?"
"That's the thing," Bill smiled, "It's not death that I'm really scared of. I wouldn't have become a pilot if it bothered me that much."
"Then what is it that you are worried about?" Katt inquired.
"That I'll die and no one's going to think I did anything special," Bill replied, and his brow furrowed as he said it. He hadn't really thought about it that way, and he certainly didn't understand why he would suddenly share this with someone he hardly knew.
Katt waited a moment in thought before replying.
"Does that have something to do with wanting to be part of StarFox? You don't think what you're doing right now is special?" Katt inquired.
Bill swallowed and considered her questions, then said, "When I was a kid, I thought StarFox was just some sort of dream, you know? Something that only the really exceptional guys did, so I figured what was the point in trying? Then I found out it wasn't just a dream, it was possible to be exceptional, and I knew I was exceptional. But by the time I figured that out, it passed me by. And for some reason, nothing that I do seems special as long as I'm not doing that."
"We all can't be superheroes, Bill. But we don't need to be. Life has a funny way of giving us what we need in ways we would never imagine. You may not think what you're doing is special, Bill, but there's billions of people all over Lylat who are glad you're doing it. And when this is all over, there are going to be even more people who wish they were you. And if you don't come back, there are plenty of people that are going to think you did something special, and they all will remember you. I'm one of them. So relax, big boy," Katt assured, "And let's show them how special we are."
Bill smiled lopsidedly.
"Good luck out there," Bill murmured.
"You too," Katt returned.
"This is the General," came General Pepper's voice on the intercom, "Reports are coming in that the Venomian forces have fallen for our trap, and are positioning themselves between our two primary attack waves. All personnel prepare for the warp jump to Venom on my mark."
A quiet, crazy calm fell over the fleet.
Some people breathed in and out to calm their swiftly-beating hearts.
Others prayed to the God Lyla for protection.
Bill Grey just stared straight ahead into the stars.
"Don't let them get through! Keep them near the defense stations!" came the thundering roar over the comlink, like a lion in the crocodilian ears of Second Lieutenant Lee "Caiman" Hogan as he grappled with the controls of his Arachnus Drive Yards A-19 Manta star fighter. Through the panoramic viewport of his cockpit, it looked like hell had appeared in the space above Venom. For nearly as far as Caiman could see, gigantic capital ships of the Venomian Empire and Cornerian Commonwealth spread throughout the vacuum of space trading laser fire as thousands of star fighters swarmed around them. Everywhere Caiman looked, something exploded with either the popping crack of a downed star fighter or the rumbling boom of a starship taking a hit, filling his heart with dread.
He didn't know how many of his wing mates were alive or dead, or if they were winning or losing. The inverted A on Caiman's blood-red helmet had lost nearly all meaning to him by this point. This was no longer a fight to defend the Venomian Empire that had promised Caiman a brighter tomorrow.
Caiman was fighting for his life in this field of stars.
His Manta buzzed through the void, the ship's hypermatter annihilation core producing a distinct, hooting echo that told him he was still living. A flight of friendly Granga fighters flashed across the front of his ship dangerously close, followed quickly by a pair of Cornerian star fighters. Caiman pressed down on the firing button on his control stick, hearing the blasters screech as it sent a pair of red laser beams through space, grazing the wing of one of the Cornerian ships. His Manta had blown past them before Caiman could tell if he'd actually hit the fighter.
The triangular Venomian ship flew over the large engine cluster of a Sulaco-class destroyer, gunning along the enormous midsection of the rust-red capital ship as it fired its ruby red pulse laser.
Up ahead, the Sulaco's pulse laser seared into the launch bay of a Cornerian Acropolis-class, punching through its magnetic shielding and causing a fiery explosion that blossomed back out into space and jarred the ship to an awkward angle. Caiman's Manta reached the bow of the Sulaco, and he banked to the side just as a Cornerian Comet fighter railed past. Caiman gritted the sharp teeth in his long snout, sniffing anxiously as he steepened the angle of his bank, pursuing the Comet. The fighter came back into Caiman's view, leading him in between a pair of Zeram-class cruisers that spat a rain of laser bolts at the fighter, very nearly hitting Caiman as they flashed through the void. He lined up the red crosshairs of his heads-up display and pressed down on the firing button, throwing another pair of crimson laser blasts out of his Manta's cannons. The Comet rolled ninety degrees on its axis, narrowly dodging Caiman's shots and then curving up and to the right.
Caiman pulled back on the stick, climbing through space after it, not even aware that the maneuver had saved him from the pot shots of another passing Comet. He fired wildly at his target, missing each time but getting a little closer. Up ahead of the Comet, an Invader III fighter swooped after its own Cornerian fighter, hitting it twice with green laser fire and blasting it to bits. Caiman's target sloped out of its climb and quickly dived, shooting its own laser cannons into the Invader III, which disappeared in a blinking explosion. Caiman dived after the Comet, following it as it sloped down, then back up and leveling off as it neared a Harlock-class frigate.
Caiman suddenly had the crosshairs lined up, the Comet in his sights perfectly.
His thumb moved to the firing button—
The Comet suddenly disintegrated as Caiman's vision was dominated by a blinding bluish-white light. He yelled with panic, squinting his eyes shut as he shoved down on the control stick, expecting nothing but death. The Manta dived through space, just avoiding the powerful pulse-laser blast from a Cornerian Trafalguis-class destroyer that had unintentionally annihilated Caiman's enemy. His eyes flew back open as he realized that he was alive, frantically yanking the stick back up and leveling off, seeing out of the corner of his eye the pulse laser blast he'd nearly missed pounding into the shields of the Harlock frigate. The bluish sword of laser energy crackled through the Harlock's shields and then through its hull, creating a tremendous, echoing explosion. Huge fiery fissures began to spread out from the point of impact, and then an even more tremendous detonation erupted from the ship as the pulse laser cut through to the vessel's port side. The destruction was out of Caiman's view before he could see the ultimate fate of the frigate, but the entire large ship looked doomed to him.
"This is Caiman," he suddenly called into his comlink, "Is there anyone near me?"
A brief scream of terror and pain was heard over the line, and then a hiss of static as the fighter on the other end was destroyed. Despite all he had seen in just the past few minutes, it was this that made Caiman's cold reptilian blood run even colder. Barely another moment passed however before another voice came over the comlink, this one exhilarated but sounding a little calmer than Caiman felt.
"This is Gearhead," the pilot on the other end said, "I'm forming up on your two o' clock."
Caiman looked out ahead of him to see another Manta fighter fly into position just ahead and to the right of him. He'd never met Gearhead, whoever he was, but at that moment any wing mate felt like a best friend just for being there.
"There's a bowman at my one o' clock! On me!" Gearhead suddenly yelled, banking slightly to the right. Caiman followed and suddenly the nickname came back to him: a Cornerian S-8 Shadow fighter-bomber, called a 'bowman' because of the pair of crescent-shaped secondary wings forming a general circle shape around the fighter's rear profile.
The Shadow was a much less nimble fighter than the Comet, however a bit faster, substantially tougher and armed with a lot more firepower. Being in front of one was almost certain death. Getting behind one, however, was an almost certain kill. Gearhead's Manta sped up and closed in on the Shadow, pelting its rear with twin laser blasts. The Shadow rocked with the impact and began to swerve to the left in order to escape. It veered right into Caiman's line of fire, and he increased the throttle, blasting the Manta forward and coming right up behind the Shadow. He tapped the firing button three times, each time getting a dead-on hit, jolting the Shadow and sending it wildly swerving from the left to the right and back. One of the over-under ion thrusters of the Shadow began to sputter and wink out periodically.
"We almost got him, maybe one more hit," Gearhead called.
The Shadow seemed to hear them, suddenly diving down towards an Acropolis-class ship. Caiman and Gearhead followed after, plunging down through the star field. In the distance up ahead of them, a series of glowing red and blue strings of pulse laser fire cut lines across the star field before disappearing. As they began to re-acquire the Shadow, a pair of Comet fighters swooped out of nowhere towards them and fired, missing and then screeching past them in the opposite direction, unable to get a good enough bearing on the Venomian pilots to destroy them. The Shadow leveled off and cruised over the top of the Acropolis ship, dodging the control tower just ahead of the large twin engines. The laser cannons on the Acropolis began to fire at the two Mantas, their green laser fire missing at such close range with their targets moving so fast. A pair of red laser bolts lanced out of Gearhead's Manta, stabbing into the Shadow and tearing one of its wings off. The fighter-bomber twisted through the void before plowing into the surface of the Acropolis with a white flash of an explosion.
"Yeah, you sonofabitch!" Gearhead shouted, taking up a position on Caiman's eleven o' clock as they sped near the bow of the Acropolis.
The two fighters cleared the space over the front of the ship, and Caiman cheered, "Great job, Gearh--"
A Cornerian Comet blasted up from below the bow of the Acropolis, colliding with Gearhead's Manta and ripping both ships apart in a sudden thud of fire and light.
Caiman had rocketed past the two exploding fighters before he'd fully understood what had happened. Gearhead was there one moment, and the next he was dead, leaving Caiman alone once again.
Caiman's breath was robbed from his throat with shock, and he guided his Manta upwards and back, towards the dominating, dark greenish-brown globe of Venom. After a moment, it became obvious to him that a sizable chunk of the Venomian ships had positioned themselves between the two large groups of invading Cornerians, attempting to separate them and drive them further into the heavy protective weaponry of the Bolse Defense Platform and Area Six. Included amongst this middle group were three Sulaco-class ships and one Grazan-class carrier. Caiman decided that it would be safer amongst the armament of this group. He engaged the throttle in full with a shove of his reptilian claw, hearing the Manta's engine rev up and streak through space.
The large group of friendly ships was getting closer, and closer and closer, the presence of enemy radar signatures becoming less and less frequent.
In the blink of an eye, a gargantuan flotilla of grey Cornerian ships suddenly dropped out of warp onto the outer flank of the central Venomian ships. Caiman had no time to process it; the abrupt appearance of a fleet of enemy vessels even larger than the other two groups already present taking him totally by surprise. The crews of the Venomian ships were equally as unprepared, all of their shield energy diverted forward and backward rather than to the flank and all of their weapons pointing in directions other than the one the enemy had just occupied. The Ajax and the six Trafalguis-class ships surrounding her all fired a full broadside of pulse laser fire, weaving a tapestry of glowing cyan from the Cornerian ships into the Grazan carrier and the three Sulacos. A blinding explosion of white threatened to blind Caiman as all four ships were consumed with fire. When the flash cleared, all that remained of the four ships were the blackened, molten husks of dead spacecraft, among the largest classes of vessels in the Imperial Venomian Starfleet destroyed by a few seconds exposure to the combined firepower of the Cornerian ships.
It was in that moment, before the panicked commands from his superiors bellowed out of his comlink, that Caiman knew how the battle was going to end.
He was so occupied with the weight of this revelation that he didn't even notice a wing of Cornerian Comet fighters come up on his tail until they were less than a half kilometer away.
The last thing that Caiman saw were the four enemy fighters on his radar display the instant before they all fired and blew his Manta to pieces.
"All systems go. Launch!" said the flight signal officer over the comlink, and a screeching sound erupted as the Ajax's rail gun catapult propelled Miss Margaret and the other five fighters out of her launch bay. Bill hardly felt the acceleration as the fighter passed through the open mouth of the Ajax and into the vacuum of space. Just beyond the group of Cornerian ships positioned ahead of him, Bill could see the massed formation of Venomian vessels being torn apart by the bright blue ribbons of pulse lasers projected through space.
"Maneuver below the fleet, stay out of our firing solution," Bill commanded, shoving his control stick down and feeling the slightest lurch as Miss Margaret gracefully dived below the Cornerian line of fire.
"Pack Leader, Ajax," the communications officer aboard Ajax called, "Proceed to sector Kilo-Victor-Seven at thirty degrees left and rendezvous with CCS Cyclone and 19th Bomber wing. Escort 19th to target intercept."
"Copy that, Ajax," Bill replied, banking to the left and leading his wing to the outskirts of the fleet, weaving in between the dozens of grey Cornerian vessels as they rained a deluge of fire onto the Venomian forces.
"This is Katt, I'm free of the docking pad and proceeding to Kilo-Victor-Seven," Katt Monroe announced, her unique ship becoming visible as a pink arrow on Bill's radar.
"Form up on my tail as soon as you reach the sector, Katt," Bill commanded as Miss Margaret entered sector Kilo-Victor-Seven, the rendezvous point for Bill's fighter attack force.
Out of the corner of his cockpit bubble, Bill could see a large wing of slow-moving S-8 Shadow fighter-bombers followed by a larger teardrop-shaped Aries-class patrol vessel.
"Pack Leader, this is Dusty," a smooth voice said through the comlink, "19th Bomber group is at your command."
"Cyclone will provide cover to the target area, sir," the Aries-class ship informed.
"All ships, Pack Leader," Bill instructed, his heart racing, "Proceed to target area on me."
Bill pointed Miss Margaret back around, and saw for the first time the enormous greenish-brown globe of Venom, sitting still and unafraid in front of them.
In between them and the planet was a dotted sea of space mines and dozens of large wheel-and-spokes shapes of Umbra-class defense satellites.
"Here we go," Bill whispered, then cranked the throttle up and heard Miss Margaret roar forward.
"Fighters coming in!" the Cyclone warned.
Without warning they seemed to come from the blackness of space itself, a veritable cloud of dozens of Venomian Invader II, Invader III and Manta fighters that swarmed to meet them.
"Protect the bombers!" Bill ordered, "Cyclone, provide cover!"
The Cyclone swept overhead just as the first ruby red laser beams began to fly from the enemy fighters. Bill swerved his ship through space to dodge the laser fire, and the Cyclone's six laser cannons began to spit out chains of blue bolts that tore into the enemy ships one by one, blasting them apart in winking orange explosions.
"Let the Cyclone do the work, everyone else just keep going," Bill directed, leading the fighters through the enemy formation as the fighters swept past him, either exploding or trying to dodge the firepower of the Cyclone.
A small alarm sounded, alerting Bill to the presence of another group of enemy fighters coming from the left.
"Katt, Junkie, we've got four of them coming in at eight o'clock. Take the ones on the outside, I've got the leaders," Bill instructed, "Rev, keep everyone else going!"
"Yessir," Rev answered as Bill, Junkie and Katt cut to the left to meet the four Manta fighters that had just appeared.
The Mantas fired first, the two in the middle shooting at Bill while one on the outside fired at Junkie's fighter.
Bill jerked his control stick to the side, barrel rolling and flaring the shields, the crimson laser bolts bounding off harmlessly. He leveled off and held down on the firing button, green laser blasts chattering forth from Miss Margaret's single cannon and into the enemy fighters. The two Mantas exploded right in front of the ship and Bill rolled ninety degrees, flying right between the blossoming fireballs. Miss Margaret then curved around to the right, just behind another Manta as Katt Monroe's laser shot disintegrated it.
"Nice shot, Monroe!" Bill called as the pink Cat's Paw formed up on his right.
"Thanks, big boy," Katt returned.
Junkie's fighter took up formation on Bill's left, creating a triangle that sped back to the head of the bomber formation that was getting closer and closer to Area Six.
"Got a little cooked back there, but I'm fine," Junkie informed, "Shields holding at 86%."
Up ahead, Bill could just see a massive scattered group of cylinder-shaped objects, forming a barrier between them and the defenses of Area Six.
"Pack Leader, Cyclone," the patrol craft called in, "You're approaching the minefield. Cyclone has firing solution on several targets that could clear a path through. Do you wish us to fire?"
"Affirm, Cyclone," Bill approved, "Everyone else throttle down and give the Cyclone some room; we're going to see some fireworks."
The Cyclone slid into view ahead of them, barraging the minefield with its guns. The field began to twinkle and flash as mines exploded one after another, clearing a path through the deadly obstacles for them to fly through.
The ruby red beam of a pulse laser flashed from across the battlefield, stabbing into the Cyclone and tearing it apart in an orange flash of light. Bill didn't have time to express horror at the destruction, merely bark orders into the comlink.
"Rev, Stovetop, and Zippa, fall back and protect the rear. Junkie, Crashdown, and Katt, form up on me ahead of the group and keep clearing a path through the minefield," Bill instructed, "Dusty, you guys are going to have to group together tight in between us in order to make it through the mines. If you get a good shot at a dangerous one, take it with your lasers, but otherwise leave them to us."
"Wilco, Pack Leader," Dusty replied.
On Bill's radar, the green dots of the Shadow bombers began to group closely together as Rev, Stovetop and Zippa's fighters fell back.
The cylindrical mines suddenly became hideously close, and Bill was terrified that one still might detect them and explode. Nevertheless, there were no alarms from the radar warning receiver as the Comets screamed into the narrow corridor made by the late Cyclone. The end of the cleared path came closer and closer, and Bill heard the radar warning alarm as the space mines locked onto their ships and began to rush towards them.
"I got it," Katt announced, and the fat red cone of a nova bomb lanced out of the nose of her ship, through space and into one of the approaching space mines. The bomb exploded with a blue and orange flash, consuming dozens of mines and setting off several others, a chain reaction that cleared dozens of hazards from their path.
"Take the rest of them, we're almost through!" Bill shouted, lining up a far-off mine with his crosshair and pressing down on the firing button.
Bright green laser bolts leapt from the formation of Comet fighters into the distant mines, which exploded in sequence one after another until there were no more remaining in front of them.
"Accelerate as soon as you get clear of the mines, we should be running into the defense satellites and plenty of fighters," Bill instructed, "Dusty, make sure everyone's got their nova bombs and concussion missiles armed for delivery."
The minefield disappeared from Bill's peripheral vision, a large assortment of wheel-shaped Umbra satellites and Venomian ships in the distance.
"There's dozens of them coming in from the right!" Crashdown yelled, and Bill whipped his head to the right to see a cloud of enemy fighters swarming out of the twin launch bays of a titanic Grazan-class carrier.
"All fighters move to intercept; Dusty, break off from your current course and go on the defensive," Bill commanded, banking to the right to meet the new threat with his six other fighters. The Venomian fighters swirled in all around them, unleashing a storm of red laser fire that streamed past Miss Margaret. Bill felt the jerking impact of one laser blast hitting his ship's nose and decreasing the shield power to 89%.
He held down the firing button and weaved into the enemy squadron, watching them explode all around him only to be replaced by more of them.
"There's a lot of these fuckers!!" Junkie yelled, but Bill could hardly hear him because a single Manta fighter had roared over his cockpit, a few gracious meters from colliding with his ship.
A sudden screaming followed by a crackle of static issued over the comlink, then Zippa cried painfully, "They got Crashdown!"
Bill gritted his teeth in frustration as enemy fighters flew all around him, some exploding and some merely rocketing past. The Cat's Paw swept in from above, blowing apart several fighters on Bill's flank before disappearing once again. Miss Margaret shuddered with an impact from behind, her shields holding at 80% as Bill looked down on his radar to see three enemy ships on his six o'clock. He slammed the throttle into full, barrel rolling to deflect a salvo of fire from his pursuers, then diving downwards. The fighters stayed on Bill's tail, getting ever closer. A large shadow passed over Bill's fighter, and he looked up to see the underbelly of the Grazan-class carrier nearly a kilometer overhead.
"Let's see if you bastards can do a fly-by," Bill snarled, yanking the stick back and blasting Miss Margaret up and towards the tight space between the two long hulls of the Grazan.
He barrel-rolled once, deflecting the fire from the enemy ships as he shot in between the Grazan's launch bays, rocketing on a suicide course for the main bridge that connected the two hulls like an enormous basket handle. The fighters followed him, one smacking into the bottom of the Grazan's hull and blowing apart. Bill yanked back on his stick even more, looping Miss Margaret back down within a few meters of hitting the bridge's underside. The two remaining fighters attempted to mimic his maneuver unsuccessfully, both slamming into the bridge at full speed, creating a huge explosion that penetrated the Grazan's shields and caused a small fire on the bottom of the bridge. Miss Margaret zoomed out back under the carrier, now free of pursuers, and sped back towards Bill's group of fighters. One of the Cornerian Comets sped across Miss Margaret's nose followed by three Granga fighters, and Bill's thumb stabbed down into the firing button, blasting apart the leader and forcing the other two to break off.
"Thanks, Major!" Stovetop called as Bill chased the two fighters.
A string of three green laser beams leapt from Bill's fighter into the rear of one of the Grangas, and the enemy fighter popped into a dozen pieces. Cat's Paw swept back in on Bill's three o'clock, a crimson laser beam zipping from her laser cannons and into the remaining ship, turning it into a saffron fireball that Miss Margaret swooped through.
Nearly half a kilometer away, another Comet destroyed two more fighters in winking flashes of light.
"Those were the last two," Rev informed through the comlink.
"Get back into formation before they launch any more," Bill commanded, "Dusty, how's your group holding up?"
"We lost three, but there's twenty one of us still in good condition," Dusty's smooth voice replied.
Bill glanced over at the Umbra-class satellites awaiting them in the distance, ignoring the massive capital ships beyond them that fired on other ships across the battlefield.
"Form up and attack the Umbra stations, three of you to each one should do it. We'll cover you," Bill directed them, breathing in a gulp of cold air from his suit's oxygen tank.
The force of Shadows began to split up into groups of three, sailing towards the Umbra defense satellites.
"Shit, they're huge," one of the bomber pilots remarked.
The nearest black satellite suddenly pitched forward and fired a volley of crimson laser blasts towards the approaching bombers. They shuddered as their shields absorbed the damage, then each one fired a nova bomb and a pair of concussion missiles. The ordinance pierced the hull of the satellite with a thunderous crack, tearing through the defense station and splitting the large wheel in half.
The scene was suddenly repeated several times all over Area Six as the Shadow bombers reached their targets and delivered their ordinance.
"WOO-HOO!!" Dusty called, and Bill spared a brief smirk of triumph.
"Pack Leader, Ajax," the flagship called, "Third wing of Husky squadron is entering your proximity. Husky squadron will provide cover for 19th Bomber group. Proceed further into the front and engage hostile capital ships. Ajax and Watchman are tracking your position and will provide cover when possible."
"Copy, Ajax," Bill responded, then said, "All fighters form up and follow me."
The remaining five fighters followed Bill's lead, screeching over and past the wrecked Umbra-class satellites. A trio of Venomian Manta fighters rushed in from their two o' clock, bearing down on them at attack speed. Before Bill could order some of the fighters to intercept them, a group of concussion missiles streaked past them from behind and hit the incoming Mantas, destroying all three.
"Call it payback for the cover you gave us, Pack Leader," Dusty chimed in.
"Thanks, Dusty, take care of yourself," Bill replied as a wing of Comets swept past in the other direction.
The scores of wrecked Umbra satellites passed them by, replaced instead by other, functional Umbras, which tilted to expose all of its laser cannons to Bill's fighter group.
"Take evasive action; return fire but just keep going! We're headed for those capital ships!" Bill instructed as two of the nearest Umbra satellites fired a salvo of red laser bolts towards them. The fighter group scattered as laser bolts whizzed all around them, none scoring any hits. Bill looped around, one of the Umbra satellites coming into view as it fired another rain of lasers at Miss Margaret. Bill held down on his firing button, returning a stream of green laser blasts that punched into the Umbra's shield system, which rippled in a greenish haze. Miss Margaret streaked through the void over the Umbra satellite, taking no more fire from the defense station. As his fighter crowned over the rim of the Umbra, Bill pulled up and locked his crosshairs onto a stray Manta fighter that was buzzing in right past him. He pressed the firing button and blew the fighter into nothing.
"Everyone still here?" Bill called, scanning the radar for any missing signatures.
All five remaining pilots called in, to his relief.
The squealing of the radar warning alarm snapped Bill back into focus, and he looked ahead to see a Venomian Harlock-class frigate launching a formation of missiles at them.
"Try to break the lock and get in close so they can't use missiles! Then signal the Ajax to fire!" Bill commanded, throttling up and rocketing Miss Margaret straight into the path of the missiles.
"Everyone spread out!" Katt suddenly called. The formation widened in order to give each fighter enough room to maneuver through the void to evade the incoming projectiles.
"Come on, now," Bill murmured, hoping that each missile would lock onto him, so that his pilots would be safer.
The closest missile changed position, rocketing towards him at frightening speed, a grey trail of vapor issuing from its end.
"There you go," Bill nodded, gripping onto his control stick. He locked onto the first missile and pressed down on the firing button, piercing it with a laser on the first shot. There were still another five missiles headed in his direction, and the Harlock was getting only closer. Bill tried to line up the next missile, firing at it with a stream of laser fire, unable to hit the incoming missile. The rocket streaked forward, terrifyingly close, and Bill jerked the stick to the side, just barely dodging it. There was no time to celebrate or think, as there were four more missiles headed his way, getting increasingly close. Bill hadn't the time to even consider shooting at the missiles; he hadn't the time to do really anything but pray that he could dodge them all. Bill slalomed back and forth, from side to side, dodging missile after missile, knowing that a single slip-up would result in him being torn to pieces. The missiles streaked by, faster than ever before, left, right, up and down, seemingly coming from all directions. Bill was dizzy by the time he dodged the third missile, and then he saw the final one searing right into his cockpit bubble. A pair of red laser blasts tore into the sides of the missile, breaking it up with a whooshing explosion, and Katt Monroe yelled with triumph.
"Looks like the Major owes you one, Katt!" Zippa called emphatically as Bill let out a sigh of relief, feeling his heart thumping around inside his ribs.
Bill would've thanked Katt if the Harlock frigate wasn't right there in front of them, so close that he could practically see the individual turbo laser cannon turrets rotating into position to lock on.
"Scatter!" Bill yelled, "Ajax, if you have a bearing, take it!"
"Roger, Pack Leader," The Ajax answered.
Bill yanked to the side on his stick, banking Miss Margaret in a hard turn to the right along with the other fighters in his group while red turbo laser blasts streaked all around them.
Four beams of cyan light abruptly pierced the vacuum and struck the Harlock, quickly blasting through its shields and boring into the ship's hull. The Harlock cracked apart amidst resounding explosions, its sloping forward section splitting away from the rest of the ship and bucking downwards in Venom's gravitational pull. The pulse lasers disappeared, only to reappear a few kilometers ahead, cutting into a Zeram-class cruiser's hull and producing a series of explosions along its side.
"Get in close on that Zeram cruiser; Ajax weakened it up for us," Bill directed, leading his wing of fighters towards the smoking ship.
"Concentrate your fire on the bridge, once it's gone the ship won't pose a threat," Katt instructed.
As they formed up, Bill could see the slightest flash as a lone Invader II fighter rocketed up from below the Zeram, its aim straight on Katt's underside. Bill shoved his stick forward and Miss Margaret complied, diving down and lining up beautifully with the approaching fighter just as Bill punched the firing button with his thumb. Four green laser beams shot out of Miss Margaret's nose, the first two flashing past the enemy ship harmlessly, the next two blasting into the Invader II simultaneously and blowing it to dust. Bill cranked the throttle up and pulled back on the stick, swooping back up and seeing the Zeram right ahead of them, a hulking boat-like ship with a pair of erect fins near its rear and a crown-like bridge tower in between them. In front of the bridge tower, along the Zeram's dorsal surface, were a series of heavy turbolaser batteries that were weakly positioning themselves to fire on Bill's squadron.
"Lay down a line of suppressing fire on the batteries, then bomb the bridge tower at the end of your run, now!" Bill called out, lining up the first turbolaser turret on his crosshair.
The six fighters unleashed hell on the weakened Zeram, raining down on the dorsal hull with streams of red and green. The laser bolts struck the batteries, producing a line of explosions that worked their way down the upper hull of the ship towards the stern-mounted bridge tower. The Zeram's batteries never even had the chance to fire. Turbolaser turrets exploded one by one by one, torn apart by laser blasts and scattering smoke and debris into the blackness of space, until the flight of Cornerian fighters reached the bridge tower, their lines of fire converging on a single point for a split second. In that moment, all six ships launched the red cones of nova bombs, pulling up and scattering to avoid the blast from their own ordinance. The six bombs pierced the bridge tower of the Zeram, producing a bright bluish-orange explosion of light that consumed the ship's control center. Bill's fighters swooped back around and re-grouped, witnessing the disabled Venomian warship smoking and lifeless as it drooped downward in Venom's gravitational pull.
"Yeah! That's how ya do it!!" Junkie hooted in triumph.
"Don't get too happy; we've got more of them coming in!" Katt responded.
Bill saw ahead the sloping brown forms of two Harlock frigates along with a flight of several Manta fighters coming up in between, and a larger Zeram cruiser further behind. All were heading towards them.
"Looks like we've got their attention!" Bill exclaimed, his paws tightening on the control stick. He unconsciously licked his grey chops in anxiety as he faced down the approaching enemies, knowing that this was too much at one time for them to handle alone.
"Ajax or immediate units, Pack Leader requesting priority fire support against sizable hostile contact," Bill requested as the ships came closer and closer.
"Pack Leader, Ajax does not have firing solution on your position," the Ajax replied quickly, "Now instructing available support units in your vicinity to lend support; Watchman will have a bearing in approximately ninety seconds."
"We'll be dead in ninety seconds!" Bill yelled.
"Bill!" Katt alerted, and Bill's breath grew short as each Harlock launched a volley of six missiles that lanced toward them with a white trail of vapor in their wake. On the radar display, the speed of the approaching ordinance made it clear that the missiles would reach them before the fighters.
"Shoot them down if you can," Bill breathed, his arm shaking slightly despite the calmness in his voice, "Otherwise, take evasive action. Break formation on my command."
The missiles edged closer, the radar display on Bill's radar beeping with alarm as they came within a kilometer's distance. The missiles were a half kilometer away in less than a second, so close that Bill could see the lethal pointed nose cones of each one.
"Break!" Bill suddenly yelped, twisting his control stick down and to the right, prompting Miss Margaret to drop quickly and bank to the side, then roll thirty degrees to the left as she swooped back up. A pair of missiles streaked over Bill's canopy in a flash, so close that Miss Margaret shuddered a bit in their backwash. He didn't even breathe as his fighter glided parallel to another pair of missiles, almost instinctively pressing the button on his control stick and blowing the two missiles apart. As Miss Margaret curved back around, Bill saw on his radar a single missile coming deadly close, unavoidable and inevitable. In a desperate effort, Bill cut the throttle and jerked the control stick to the side, knowing that the flared shields wouldn't protect him from the missile's shrapnel but hoping for a miracle anyway. Miss Margaret rolled into a pirouette through the void, her shields flaring in a haze of blue-green just as the missile passed her rear and activated the proximity fuse. Bill saw the flash of light and the thumping boom of the missile as it exploded, then felt the jolting kick as his fighter tumbled through the void amidst whooping alarms in the cockpit. The volume turned down and time slowed to a crawl as Bill's brain struggled to keep him alive. He could see two more missiles on the radar display converging onto his fighter. Out through his cockpit bubble, Bill saw the pink Cat's Paw twirl through the vacuum and shoot down a missile as a Comet fighter dodged another two. It all seemed to be going so slow, the next move seemingly obvious.
The two missiles headed for Miss Margaret became visible as the fighter tumbled to another angle, racing to bury themselves into the fuselage. Bill waited until the missiles were nearly on top of him, then strangled the control stick into the other direction, slamming the throttle into full. Miss Margaret's engines revved up, throwing Bill back into his seat as she corkscrewed into a dive through the blackness, dodging the incoming missiles.
Time sped back up as the missiles streaked past Bill's fighter, and he let out a gasping exhalation as he leveled the ship off and throttled down, just in time to see the last missile graze a Comet fighter's wing and explode. The Comet began to twirl through space, wildly sparking and smoking as a screaming feminine voice came over the comm.
"Zippa, eject!!" Bill screamed frantically, praying he wouldn't lose another pilot.
The Comet continued its uncontrolled downwards spiral, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Just as the damaged wing tore free from the rest of the fuselage, Bill thought he saw a small black shape erupt from the cockpit, but then the fighter completely exploded and Bill couldn't tell if Zippa had bailed out or not.
"We've got fighters straight ahead!" Rev called out, and Bill stared at the wave of Manta fighters that were now closing in on them, outnumbering the five of them by probably more than two to one.
"Everyone grab a wingman!" Bill ordered, "Katt, cover Rev, I'll fly solo, hurry!"
No one objected, Stovetop and Junkie's Comets flying in tandem as Katt and Rev grouped together and Bill led the wing alone. The Mantas were true to their name, resembling large gunmetal grey manta rays with triangular dorsal fins as they hummed through space, scattering just as they came within a kilometer of the Cornerian fighters.
Bill shoved the throttle forward, rocketing through the enemy fighters before they could fire off a shot, then jerked the control stick back, hoping to curve back around to attack the fighters' rears. He saw the other two pairs of fighters in his group already maneuvering to attack the Mantas, swerving and diving through space as they slung laser bolt after laser bolt at their enemies. Miss Margaret came back around and tore forward, Bill setting his sights on the bright green thrusters of a Manta just a few hundred meters ahead. A Manta suddenly buzzed up from below, overshooting him and just barely avoiding a collision as it streaked through space, so close that Bill could clearly see the inverted Venomian A on the fighter's dorsal fin. Bill instinctively mashed the button and fired Miss Margaret's laser cannon, his canine eyes locked onto the Venomian insignia as a bulls-eye. The green spears of laser energy impacted the symbol on the fighter, shearing the dorsal fin free of the Manta and sending it hurtling out of control. Bill streaked past and took aim on another fighter; this one swooping away off of Stovetop's seven o' clock. The Manta was pulling into a broad turn, exposing its dorsal surface to Bill's guns. It was a sloppy move. Bill figured that those rumors about Venom being unable to train new expert pilots after losing so much over the war were true. Not that it mattered to him in the slightest as he pressed the firing button and turned the fighter into a blossoming explosion.
Miss Margaret barrel-rolled back into position, giving Bill the perfect opportunity to spot another Manta coming in on Katt's tail. He shot off his gun, firing a series of laser bolts across the Manta's nose and prompting it to bank to the left in an attempt to bug out. Bill forced the control stick forward and Miss Margaret dived down to the Manta's level, the crosshairs on his heads-up display turning red as the Manta came into view. Bill fired again, shredding the Manta's left wing off. He watched for a moment as the fighter drooped down, and then exploded. His fighter swooped back up, and Bill heard a shaking impact and then an alarm as his shield power fell to 72%. A Manta streaked past his right wing, breaking into a narrow turn to the right. Bill growled and pulled back, following the fighter on his radar display. The Manta came into view just out of the corner of his canopy, visible for a short moment before scarlet laser beams ripped into it and blasted the ship apart.
"That looks like the last of them; the rest of the fighters look like they're withdrawing," Katt informed as her ship curved into view with Rev's Comet on her five o' clock.
"I know why," Bill remarked with dread, looking out at the space before him.
The two Harlock frigates had closed in on them, barely a kilometer away. The fighters were probably ordered to withdraw so the Harlocks could open fire without the risk of friendly fire. There was no way for them to challenge on their own these heavily-armed ships, built to eliminate star fighters and smaller ships with turbo lasers and ship-to-ship missiles.
Bill's dread and expectation of demise was quickly replaced by puzzlement when he realized that the Harlocks weren't firing, and in fact seemed to be tilting away from them rather than toward them. A flock of nova bombs streamed from behind Miss Margaret to one Harlock as a trio of pulse laser beams burned into the hull of the other. The volley of bombs hit the Harlock on the left, detonating in a veritable wall of blue and orange fire while the pulse lasers cut the right Harlock's port side engine clean off, producing its own series of explosions and smoke. The blasts dissipated, and both Harlocks were clearly wrecked.
Miss Margaret veered into a tight U-turn, and Bill gasped with excitement as he beheld a large Nelson-class frigate and an even larger Trafalguis-class destroyer cruising into the area.
"Pack Leader, this is destroyer Watchman and escort frigate Brodgar reporting in. Watchman and Brodgar will provide fire support for your advance into the engagement zone," said the communications officer of the Trafalguis-ship Watchman over the comm.
"Copy that, Watchman," Bill replied, breathing a sigh of relief. He had forgotten in the chaos how close the Watchman had been to them; the mere ninety seconds it took to arrive feeling like an eternity.
"Watchman, Pack Leader, be advised," Bill added, "One of our pilots was lost recently, and we have reason to believe she ejected safely. Request search and rescue dispatch, over."
"Wilco, Pack Leader," Watchman replied, "We are picking up a distress beacon in the vicinity; will dispatch SAR at earliest possible convenience."
"Yes," Bill hissed through his teeth, permitting himself a smile at the possibility that Zippa was still alive, then came back, "Pack Leader is advancing into the engagement zone."
"Anyone take any hits?" Bill inquired as they all re-formed.
"I'm at 80%" Junkie answered.
"Holding at 74," Stovetop replied.
"I took a hit back there; I'm at 85," Katt called in.
"68%" Rev said.
They had all taken some damage, but they were still in prime fighting condition as they throttled ahead, rocketing past the lifeless, smoking Harlock frigates that had posed such a threat. Up ahead, there seemed to be only a few more objects between them and the gargantuan dark green orb of Venom. Out the side of his canopy, Bill could see the battle raging on and on for hundreds of kilometers as dozens upon dozens of capital ships glided slowly amongst each other like gigantic clouds and the seemingly infinite swarms of star fighters swirled around them like drops of rain. Laser blasts flashed through the void and explosions rang out from amongst the ships, resembling lightning from a storm-filled sky, always from a seemingly random spot. Far off in the distance, Bill thought he could see the odd, immense box-shape of the Bolse Defense Platform through the thick assortment of capital ships.
"Pack Leader, Watchman is reading several Umbra defense satellites and star fighters, two Zeram-class cruisers and one Sulaco-class destroyer directly ahead of your position," the Watchman informed, "Also detecting what appears to be a large signature beyond the ships, however we have no visual bearing."
"Take care of the Umbra satellites and the Zeram up ahead for us," Bill instructed, "We will engage hostile fighters and disable the Sulaco's pulse laser."
"Copy, Pack Leader," Watchman replied.
As they approached a large Zeram-class cruiser, the Watchman's three pulse lasers flashed into the side of the large hull, thick ribbons of glowing bright cyan that tore into the shields of the Zeram, then into its side, producing a blossoming gush of explosions that poured out of the ship like a burst of blood. Bill and the four other fighters passed by the Zeram without even firing a shot, speeding past the capital ship as the Brodgar sent a pair of nova bombs into its bridge tower, exploding fiercely and leaving the ship flaming and disoriented. The fighters and their two escorts continued on as the Zeram's engines winked and sputtered, its turbolaser batteries firing wildly in confusion. Bill could see coming ahead the wheel-and-spokes shapes of several Umbra defense satellites waiting for them, and beyond that the hulking, rust-red form of the Sulaco-class destroyer.
"Brodgar has confirmed lock on all Umbra satellites in the area," the Watchman informed Bill, "Do not deviate from your present course to avoid friendly firing solution."
Once again, Bill watched as dozens of stout red nova bomb cones soared underneath their formation, speeding ahead through space only to separate like leaves in the wind, two of them heading towards each Umbra satellite. The bombs found their targets simultaneously, and Bill heard a splitting rumble as the bombs exploded and the Umbras blew apart in vibrant splashes of bright orange.
"I just love watching those things blow up," Stovetop remarked huskily, "Fireworks aren't near as beautiful."
Before Bill could smile, the thick scarlet beam of an enemy pulse laser flashed through the void and past the fighters, resulting in a crunch-like explosion from behind.
"Pack Leader, be advised," the Watchman called with alarm, "Enemy destroyer has disabled Brodgar's starboard bomb tubes. Intercept and disable immediately!"
"Full throttle, now!" Bill barked, gunning his fighter at full speed through space along with the four other fighters at his sides.
The explosions of the Umbra satellites cleared, revealing the Venomian Sulaco-class destroyer. From the top or bottom, the large ship would've resembled the silhouette of a giant bottle, with a stern ending in a large array of engines and a thick main section which bottlenecked into a relatively narrow bow. Though the Sulaco-class had only one pulse laser against the three of the Trafalguis-class (its Cornerian counterpart), it was more powerful, with numerous focusing turbochargers that allowed it to punch through most shields and armor with ease. However, this meant that the Sulaco's single turbolaser comprised nearly the entire long bottleneck bow section, and made it a prime target for attacking star fighters.
"Stovetop, you're on point," Bill commanded, determining that Stovetop would be the one to actually deliver a nova bomb into the business end of the Sulaco's pulse laser. This meant that Bill and everyone else would be covering Stovetop at all cost, but it also meant that, if the Sulaco unluckily decided to fire at the crucial moment, Stovetop's fighter would be disintegrated like a drop of water in a bonfire. Bill had considered for a moment being on point himself, but decided against it. Bill hated to think of his life as more important than Stovetop's, but the truth was that the push into Area Six would probably fail without him. He silently swore that he'd make sure Stovetop was safe.
"We've got fighters coming in, ten o'clock," Junkie alerted as they sped closer to the Sulaco.
"Cover Stovetop!" Bill ordered, locking his eyes on the group of radar signatures swarming in past the Sulaco.
As the arrowhead-shaped Invader III fighters screamed towards them, the Sulaco fired its pulse laser once again, a ray of bright crimson that streaked past them and struck the Brodgar's port side bomb array, tearing through the ship's shields and engulfing the bomb launchers in explosions before winking out.
"The computer's still trying to find a lock on the emission lens," Stovetop informed, "I'll make my run as soon as I've got it."
"Just stay close to us until you have a lock, and then blow that thing to hell," Bill growled, eyeing the approaching fighters.
The Invader IIIs came in a single wave that swept past them, firing a barrage of shots at them before passing by and starting to curve around. As they flew past, Katt broke formation and fired, hitting one of the ships with a trio of laser blasts, destroying it on the third shot. Bill counted five of them that remained in action, then jerked the stick backwards and around, swerving Miss Margaret into a U-turn.
"Junkie, take the one on the far right; Katt, take the left, I've got two in the middle," Bill directed, "Whoever gets their target first takes the last one. Rev, stay with Stovetop. Whatever happens, we protect our guy on point!"
They all affirmed and turned in to attack the fighters.
Bill came around first, observing the five Invader IIIs speeding forward, already shooting off ruby blaster fire. Bill kept his eyes on two in the center of the formation, even as he barrel-rolled Miss Margaret and deflected the incoming bolts. He came out of the spin, already pressing down on the firing button. The laser cannon spat needles of bright green out into space, peppering into the nose of one of the fighters and destroying it instantly. The remaining four scattered and Bill kept his eye on his second target, keeping his thumb on the button and trailing a chain of green fire after his prey. He finally let go of the button as the Invader III swept out of view, pulling the stick back and trying to regain fire on his target.
The Sulaco fired again, this time the red beam seared into the midsection of the Brodgar, producing a blossoming peony of fire and debris as it sliced through the bulkheads. The Watchman returned fire with its three pulse lasers, burning three bold cyan bands across the blackness into the Sulaco's starboard side, just boring through the shields enough to tear through one of the outer layers of the enemy hull before disappearing. Bill found his target once more and fired at its rear, letting off a burst of verdant lasers that nicked the right side of the fighter. He kept holding down on the button, gritting his teeth with frustration as the Invader III barrel rolled defensively to the side, dodging his fire. Bill's line of fire all of a sudden aligned perfectly with the target, and the hail of laser bolts suddenly pounded into the fighter's rear and tore it apart.
"I have a lock! Going in now!" Stovetop announced.
"Hurry up; I think they've figured out what you're trying to do!" Junkie alerted, "Heads up, Rev, he's coming at you!"
Bill pulled on the stick, desperately moving back towards the Sulaco, just barely able to see as Stovetop's Comet raced head-on for the emission lens. Behind him, an Invader III fighter zoomed after in hot pursuit as two more Comets converged from both sides. Bill watched as the Comets fired at the fighter, saturating it with fire until it exploded with a singular pop. Stovetop let loose his nova bomb and darted up and over the bow section of the Sulaco, climbing ever higher as the bomb soared into the enemy ship's emission lens and disappeared. Suddenly, a thunderous boom shook the Sulaco, and its bow section began to splinter and crack apart, breaking open like a dropped eggshell.
"Yeah!" Bill snapped with triumph as Miss Margaret soared over the dorsal section of the Sulaco, smiling as the ship's primary weapon was torn apart from the inside.
"Next time, buy Cornerian!" Stovetop cheered as Bill, Junkie, Rev and Katt formed up on him and soared over the destroyer's rear engines.
"Pack Leader, hostile fighters and Zeram cruiser are leaving the area," the Watchman informed proudly, "Proceed to investigate unknown radar signature one kilometer ahead of your position."
Bill looked around, but he could see nothing ahead of them, absolutely nothing between his fighters and the hulking, dominating green globe of Venom, straight ahead.
"I don't get it," Katt remarked, "If it's a click away, shouldn't we see it by now? There's nothing here."
It was then that Bill saw a large shimmering in the space ahead of them, almost like a heat mirage, and he remembered something from the military intelligence briefings about the defenses around Venom, about the rumored capabilities of the Venomians' newest defense satellite.
"Everyone pull up!" Bill yelled hurriedly, "Pull up and break off, NOW!"
As they all veered away, it struck. From literally out of nowhere it appeared, the cloaking device disengaging to reveal a massive metal globe with a large central lens, the entire thing resembling a giant eyeball. From its sides suddenly appeared three mammoth tentacles of reinforced durasteel, easily a half kilometer long.
It was the Gorgon defense satellite, one of the latest Venomian super-weapons. Before Bill could even let out a word, one of the tentacles swiped forward, swatting one of the Comets in a ringing explosion that tore the ship to pieces.
"Stovetop!!" Junkie roared.
"God damn it!!" Bill yelled.
The Gorgon's tentacles suddenly withdrew and the globular metal shell blossomed open in three pieces, opening up to reveal a complex mass of machinery, reactors and shield generators with crackling arcs of energy. The central lens began to glow pink, and the petals of the satellite snapped shut as the incredible fuchsia beam of a hyper-laser erupted from the lens and tore across the blackness, into the Watchman far beyond. A tumultuous crack and a flash of light radiated out from the ship as one of its three large engine nacelles blasted free of the hull.
The beam disappeared and the three tentacles re-emerged from the Gorgon, writhing slowly before one of them swept forward once again.
"Evasive action!" Bill yelled, jerking the stick away just as the tentacle swept through space after him. As he dodged it, another one swept his way. Instinctively, Bill held down the firing button as the tentacle's claw-like end lined up with his crosshairs. Streams of green laser fire shot out of Miss Margaret's nose, pelting into the claw and blasting it apart. The tentacle shook, as if alive, and withdrew back into the satellite.
"Shoot the arms off!" Bill called, "They're not shielded!"
"The main body sure is!" Rev shot back as his Comet fired a volley into the rounded metal plating on the Gorgon, to no effect.
Bill took aim at another claw, firing and producing the same reaction, destroying the claw and forcing the tentacle to withdraw into the satellite.
"This is for Stovetop," Junkie snarled, a stream of lasers streaking from his guns into the Gorgon's remaining tentacle, blasting even more than the terminating claw off before it too withdrew. The sides of the Gorgon flared, and a ring of at least fifteen missiles erupted from the machine, converging towards Bill's fighter.
"I am not dodging any more missiles today!" Bill growled, firing his last nova bomb.
The bomb streaked lamely through the void, crossing the path of the missiles just as Bill pressed the button to remotely detonate it.
The nova bomb lit up with a fierce starburst of blue and orange that consumed and destroyed the incoming missiles.
"Watchman, get a bearing on this thing when you can; Katt, get ready with all the bombs you've got left," Bill commanded, "When that thing opens back up, hit it with all you've got before it gets us, it's all on you now!"
Bill's orders came not a moment too soon, just as the Gorgon's three petals blossomed slowly open once again.
The two remaining pulse lasers from the Watchman cut across space, hammering into the exposed innards of the Gorgon and depleting its shields. The Cat's Paw streaked ahead, firing three nova bombs in rapid succession that plowed into the central lens the exact moment that it began to glow. The detonation of the nova bombs almost blocked out the sight of the Gorgon being ripped apart in the explosion.
"Yeah, motherfucker!!" Katt screeched, the Cat's Paw swerving around as the explosions faded and the debris of the Gorgon drifted downwards in Venom's gravity well.
Bill let out a long, tired exhale, trying to smile. He tried not to think of Stovetop and Crashdown's deaths.
The Cat's Paw glided up on Bill's left, the feline pilot almost visible through the cockpit.
"You did it, big boy," Katt declared, "You proved how special you were."
"We both did," Bill nodded, looking out as the Battle of Venom continued to rage beyond them, his role in the fight now finished.
Through the muddled chaos of the battle that stretched hundreds of kilometers, Bill could actually see the hulking form of the Ajax, facing down a slightly smaller blood red capital ship. The enemy ship was long and narrow, rather resembling a crocodile, and bristling with large laser turrets. It could only be the Xerxes, the rumored new flagship of the Venomian fleet.
As the Ajax and the Xerxes exchanged bright glowing beams of crimson and cyan, laser bolts pulsing into the bluish-green bubbles of their respective shields, the Venomian flagship began to yaw about on its axis, turning away towards the empty space beyond.
Without warning, the four large engines of the Xerxes suddenly glowed yellow, and the flagship winked out of existence.
Inside the bridge of the Ajax, Felix Bartorillo leapt up from his station.
"Sirs! The Xerxes has jumped away!" Bartorillo alerted Admiral Chen and General Pepper.
A growl appeared on General Pepper's muzzle.
"Dammit," Pepper cursed, "Nothing we can do about it now. Plot all possible courses on their last known trajectory. Focus on making sure none of the others can jump--"
A rattling, screeching blast could be heard, and all staff on the bridge looked out the panoramic transparisteel window as fires and explosions began to consume the Bolse Defense Station.
"The Monitor reports successful destruction of the Bolse reactor," Bartorillo informed, prompting cheering hoots from all around the bridge.
A canine grin appeared on Pepper's face. With the absence of the Xerxes and the destruction of Bolse, they'd essentially won the battle. Venomian command and control was obliterated, and now it was only a matter of time before the fleet subdued what remained of the confused Venom ships.
"Our Comets are reporting that enemy fighters are retreating back to their ships," the communications officer reported, "Requesting permission to pursue."
"Tell 'em to shoot the bastards out of the sky," Pepper replied, still smiling.
"General Pepper," another comms officer piped up, "Direct call for you from Major Grey."
"Patch him in," Pepper commanded, taking the phone off of its receiver on the Command and Control console and putting it to his ear.
"Major!" Pepper answered, "Magnificent job out there. You made us proud."
"Thank you, General," Bill Grey's raspy voice came in, "I wanted to know if you had anything yet about the status of StarFox's mission down to Venom."
Pepper's smile finally disappeared.
"We've been out of contact with StarFox ever since they entered Venom's atmosphere forty-five minutes ago," the General answered, swallowing, "We have no idea what their status is."
Back inside his cockpit, Bill shuddered, his gaze shifting to the poisonous green and yellow planet in the distance.
"Come on, Fox," Bill whispered, "Don't let us down. We're all counting on you to bring it home."
The dark planet of Venom offered no response to Bill's hopes.