Disclaimer: I don't own Star Fox.
A/N: This is the first chapter of Badlander that will feature Kivuli Solarex and Andrea Jade Bowman; OC's that are most exclusively a courtesy of Vulaan Kulaas. Thank you very much, Vulaan!
Badlander
Chapter 7: Fire and Ice
Gideon blinked as the gargantuan silverfish guns on the planet's surface lit up in a brilliant melting haze of blue energy. Immediately the numerous enemy fighters attacking the base attempted in vain to escape the bolts that collided into them from below. All around his P-51 Mustang, the dark green enemy fighters fell, trailing dark smoke as they crashed into the distant grasslands below.
"Airsp…" a distant voice crackled over radio static, "…nitized. Enemy is retre… repeat the enemy is retreating!"
An omnipresent chorus of celebration erupted over the various communication channels throughout the local airspace. Despite the situation, Gideon allowed himself to feel a momentary sense of pride now that they had somehow successfully fought off the enemy attackers.
"I can't believe we did it!" Slippy cheered over the communications equipment.
"Something's wrong," Krystal's astute feminine voice spoke nervously.
"What's going on, Krystal?" Fox asked. "Do you sense something?"
"There! Look at the emergency generator building," she continued.
Gideon gazed out of his cockpit, scanning the numerous dark buildings that dotted the landscape. Where in the hell?
And then he saw it, shimmering madly in the dark like confetti from the bright, molten pits of hell.
"Oh crap, it's on fire!" Falco swore, "Can you sense anyone in there, Krystal?"
There was a long pause before Krystal answered, during which cold rain silently tattered away at Gideon's glass canopy.
"I-I think so," she offered, followed by a series of audible clicks and beeps. "Damn! I still can't contact the base!"
"It doesn't seem like emergency crews are responding. I'll go check it out," Gideon offered softly as he throttled down his silver-blue fighter toward the gleaming building below. He pressed a few glowing buttons on the control console in front of him and was rewarded with a subtle beep as the craft switched into hover mode. He heard a soft whirring from outside as the landing gear extended itself. Satisfied, he further pushed the Mustang downward until he heard the faint crunch of the gear colliding with the black asphalt below.
He depressed another switch and the glass canopy opened with a soft hiss. Wasting no time, he leveled himself against the side of the fighter and dropped down to the pavement. Above, the Star Fox Arwings screamed across the dark world of the Cornerian sky. Their quiet engines howled frighteningly in the darkness as they patrolled the local airspace.
Gideon stood up and ran toward the burning building. He held up an arm to shield his sensitive eyes from the unholy glow of the crippled construct.
"Hello? Anybody in there?" he shouted into the rubble. The dark embers crackled wildly upon the molten metal, drowning out the life of his echoing cry. The scent of melting metal and fallen ash entered his lungs, burning him from within. He resisted the urge to cough and crouched lowly as his training kicked in. He silently cursed himself for neglecting to wear his filtration mask that now sat unused back in the Mustang.
A long, sharp, metallic object sat in the center of the dark debris. Is that a wing? He thought urgently as he surveyed the crumbling piece of metal. As he inched closer, he became more and more certain that some fighter had crashed into the building, annihilating the building and possibly destroying CADA's emergency generator. He sighed quickly and sent his mechanical gaze out across the wreckage once more.
"Argh," a low, distant voice suddenly grunted over the low crackle of the flames. Gideon moved closer to the wreckage. A sudden flicker of movement caught his eye. Within meters of the flaming building, a large shard of metal shuddered. Beneath it, Gideon could just barely perceive a familiar silhouette writhing back and forth underneath the metallic debris.
Gideon quickly ran over towards the figure, ignoring the scathing heat of the building as it lapped savagely at his exposed arms. Slowly, the glow from the collapsed building illuminated the figure.
"Hazel?"
Hazel took a moment to reexamine her situation. She had been about to leave the goddamned emergency generator building after single-handedly saving the base from the Commies, but now some object just had to crash into the building. The explosion had sent her barreling across the pavement, scraping her arms and legs. And that would have been fine if a massive hulk of metal had not managed to fall across her prone form, pinning her to the black, molten asphalt below.
"Hazel?" a cool voice filtered over her from the darkness.
"Waller?" she recognized. She gasped lowly as she tried futilely to life the heavy shard of metal once more.
Several footsteps clicked quietly over the pavement as the figure stood over her. She took a second to gaze upon those cool blue orbs, sharp facial features, and dark hair once more. He stood above her, silhouetted marvelously by the flames. To her, the human had never before looked so entrancingly alien. She quickly considered the possibility that the human might be alien even among his own kind.
Hazel shook her head and met his crystalline eyes with her molten ambers.
"You just gonna stand there?" Hazel criticized sourly and tried once more to lift the metal block with no result.
Wasting no time, the human grunted and placed his rough hands underneath the metal. Hazel blushed slightly as the human's hands brushed gently across hers. When he turned to look in her eyes, she turned her head. No, she was not blushing, she reminded herself. It was just the heat.
She heard a soft grunt as the presence above her slowly dissipated. Immediately, she turned her head to find that the metal block hovering above her. She heard a loud clam as the human seemingly effortlessly threw the rubble into the fire, where it was greedily accepted by the flames like an offering to some distant god of chaos.
How the hell did he lift that? She asked herself silently. She had spent months training her body for military work, and this human had spent mere seconds lifting an object that she could not lift in minutes.
"Are you alright?" the human asked as he held out a hand. Hazel waved it off and stood up slowly.
"Y-yeah, I'm just dandy, Cap." She took a few steps forward. Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over her and she stumbled into a warm object. She looked up and saw that the object just happened to be the human's chest. The warmth of his body felt strangely comforting despite the sharp, ambient heat of the moment. Instantly Hazel regained her senses and recoiled, resolving to finish the walk by herself.
"Hazel, you're injured and exhausted. Let me help you," the human made a move to wrap her left arm around his shoulder to steady her. This time, she accepted and leaned on him as they slowly trudged away from the glowing fire.
"How did you know where to find me, Skipper?"
"Krystal sensed that there was someone in the wreckage of the emergency generator building, so I decided to help if I could." Hazel found it curious how Waller practically spat out the word sensed as if it represented some form of taboo or otherwise unacceptable phenomenon.
Hazel stopped to look up at him, her hot eyes prying into his, trying to discern some sort of secret or mystery that made up the man's life and the strange worlds he left behind.
"Oh, and call me Gideon," he continued silently as they began to walk again.
"That's a beauti-" she slammed her mouth shut before it could blather on any further. "Um, aren't there regulations or rules that say I'm supposed to call you 'Captain' or 'Sir'?"
"Let's just say titles make my skin crawl," Gideon mimicked, smiling slightly. She shot him an irritated look that only seemed to make the furless human even more satisfied with himself. Argh, you are completely hopeless! She broadcasted over her imaginary telepathic network. Alas, the only response she received came in the form of two dull thuds from her head, which she instantly believed could be translated into two humorous, though decidedly graphic words.
Screw you too, Brain.
"We're here," Gideon voiced quietly as he gently set her down on the pavement near the Mustang.
"I take it you have medical supplies in there?" she ventured as Gideon walked toward the gleaming silver fighter. The human simply nodded and clambered ruggedly onto the fighter, disappearing into the cockpit. For a disturbing moment, Hazel thought she heard voices coming from the fighter, but she dismissed it as her imagination.
After a few minutes, Gideon returned, brandishing a large dark green pack slung over his shoulder. He rummaged through the pack before producing a bottle of transparent liquid. He held it up to Hazel, gesturing for her to take it.
"Drink."
She obeyed, savoring the refreshing taste of the fluid as it spread throughout her body. Hazel held the bottle in front of her and nodded with approval.
"Holy crap, I feel so much better now! How the…" she tried to stand once more. Her legs wobbled and for a second, Hazel was convinced that she was about to plop back down on the asphalt like an idiot. But somehow she stood her ground.
Hazel handed the bottle back to Gideon, who promptly placed it back in the pack.
"What on Corneria was in that bottle?" she asked frantically. If she had something like that back when… things could have been different.
"Malakhim Water," he replied simply. "Straight from the Ice Mountains of Neo. Only a few gallons exist anywhere else in the galaxy."
"Malakhim?" she mouthed, stunned at the prospect that water could reinvigorate, much less instantly heal an injured person.
"Back before there was an America or a Soviet Union, or even faster-than-light travel, the Roman Empire ruled much of mankind. But they didn't last." His eyes suddenly grew distant, as if he were considering something deeply forbidden from his past. Her eyes pried into his once more, and once more he did not relent. Gideon shook his head and spoke once more.
"Anyway, after the Empire fell after fighting some war, the whole Earthspace was reduced to rubble, but the Roman survivors had found a new place to call home; an ice planet they called Neo Roma, or 'New Rome' in Latin. They later found out that they weren't the first ones there, so now they just call it Neo." Gideon concluded cryptically. She stared at him, enthralled with the story he had provided. She had never before heard of a Neo Roma, nor, to her knowledge had anyone she knew. She was about to comment when he continued, "Now they call themselves the Malakhim, preaching Western philosophy and preservation of 'our' culture." He scoffed and glanced upward at the darkened sky, "But the corrupt hypocrites just use their tech and soldier-legionnaires to keep America in their sphere of control. They didn't help during the Depression and they sure as hell aren't helping now."
He sighed and gazed into her eyes once more.
"Sorry about the long story, Hazel. Sometimes, I just don't know when to shut up."
I know the feeling, she sympathized, not hating him for the first time since he saved her from the fire.
Gideon cracked his knuckles and turned to face the burnt-out building, whose embers were slowly beginning to die.
"You were one of them, weren't you?" Hazel recognized softly as she walked up behind him.
But how could you have been? She wondered silently.
Gideon continued to face the dying fire. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to touch him, to get to know him, to understand him. But she was beginning to understand that even though his body stood mere inches from hers, Gideon occupied a different plane of existence from normal people. Whether he wanted to or not, the beautiful alien before her would always be a stranger, and with that thought her heart sunk within her chest.
Suddenly, the low whir of engines distracted the pair from one another. Gideon and Hazel turned to behold a large, silver-blue aerial command craft as it settled onto the pavement near the Mustang. Sleek, but rather large, the command craft easily dwarfed the American fighter.
Slowly, a latch alongside the craft depressed and a large ramp cascaded down onto the pavement. A dark figure stood silently in the doorway, watching intently.
"That's Peppy," Hazel breathed and turned to face the human, prying his stoic form for answers. "What's he doing here?"
Gideon turned to face her again, his cool blue eyes lancing through the darkness like bolts of electricity. The air around her suddenly felt warmer, more clustered, devoid of anonymity under his unrelenting gaze.
"He's here to take you to Fichina."
"I can't believe Command wants us to go Fichina, of all places," Falco blared out from across the bunk room. Light wafted warmly off the dark blue walls, cascading peacefully into the room. On one end of the long room, ten double-decker bunks stood rigidly opposite the various desks and entertainment devices. But no one in the Star Fox team busied themselves with any of those things as they stood huddled in a circle, speaking silently.
The avian shivered slightly as if to emphasize his lack of desire to travel anywhere near the Lylat System's only ice planet.
Fox turned to speak. "You heard Peppy; the Commies have been more active on Fichina than anywhere else in the System."
"But why?" Falco retorted, his blue feathers bristling. "There's nothing there except snow and, um, snow."
"How descriptive," Krystal teased. She chuckled when Falco shot her an angry glare. She turned to face Fox. His entrancing emerald eyes looked deeply into hers. "Fichina does have a large supply of natural resources," she allowed, swallowing her sudden nervousness, "but I don't think that's what the Reds are there for."
"I agree," Fox complimented. "There has to be something else to it; the DRC wouldn't launch a massive strike over resources that would take months to mine while we could simply harass them from orbit. No; something else has to be drawing them there."
Krystal shifted in her seat and nodded.
"When the hell are Hazel and the Captain gonna get up here so we can get this ship movin'?" Falco blared as he fiddled with a toy Arwing, obviously bored with the subject matter.
"I thought you didn't want to go to Fichina?" Slippy exclaimed loudly. Suddenly, Falco's face grew dark. The avian wore a blank expression as he nonchalantly threw his toy Arwing at Slippy. It collided unceremoniously into the toad's right foot and rebounded onto the dull blue floor with a barely-audible tic.
"Ow." The toad croaked sarcastically.
"Now, now, we don't throw airplanes at people," a new, cool voice broke into their conversation. The four pilots turned to see Waller, Hazel, and the ferret Carson walk into the bunk room. Fox heard a silent purr as the Cornerian frigate's engines started them on their way to Fichina.
"It's an Arwing!" Falco blared, and retrieved the fighter, cradling it in mock-defensiveness.
Fox smiled slightly and examined the trio. The human occupied the formation's center and wore a brown aviator jacket over navy pants. Fox was instantly aware of how the vixen and the ferret stood behind Waller, instinctively awaiting his actions.
I can't believe they trust him already…
I can't believe my own team trusted me in the beginning. He considered nostalgically as images of his first fights against Andross and Venomian Army flickered through his wandering mind.
"What's with the leg brace?" Slippy asked, gesturing at the skeletal, dark-blue device that stretched tightly around Carson's right leg.
The ferret grinned sheepishly. "Um, it's a long story. And guys; Krystal, Fox, Slippy, Falco, I'd just like to say that it's an honor to meet you all."
Before Fox could reassure the kid, Falco bounded across the room faster than he ever had when Krystal made her legendary Cerinian-style steak. Fox's mouth watered as he imagined devouring the scrumptious meal.
"Well," Falco emphasized as he put a hand on the ferret. Fox shook his head and could only watch on in horror as Falco conveyed his own ego-filled version of the Star Fox adventures, all the way up to the assault on the Aparoid home world. In the sudden flurry of conversation, Fox saw that Falco's friend Hazel had set up near the back of the room with Krystal, talking about heaven knew what. Slippy had ended up watching a science program on his teleview, leaving Fox alone with the human Captain.
"That was some neat flying back there," Fox complimented for lack of anything better to say.
The human glanced at him and nodded. There was something warlike in the alien's far-off eyes; something fierce and majestic like a shining blue demon that could never be tamed. Yet those eyes and their distant gaze looked so familiar, Fox considered. Where had he seen those eyes before?
"You don't trust me," Waller said plainly as they both gazed at the others that filled the room with life. Fox and Waller stood silently, severely while their friends spoke and laughed and joked. There was no home for people like themselves, Fox knew. He was instantly reminded of something his father once said.
"The most important part of being a hero is to be willing to carry the heaviest of burdens so the rest of us don't even have to know they exist."
Fox knew that this new war wasn't just a fight for the survival of Corneria as previous wars had been. This war, for Fox, presented a fight not just for the survival of his friends or his race, but for the preservation of his peoples' livelihood; their ability to determine the outcome of their own lives.
But what's more important? Fox wondered silently. Freedom or survival?
He did not have an answer, and the constant fatherly voice within him was uncharacteristically silent.
"I want to trust you, Waller, I really do," Fox spoke softly, shaking his head. "It's just after everything your country and race have done, this System and its people are the ones paying for your mistakes."
Waller nodded and sighed softly, as if he had been expecting that remark. "You're right. Lylat would've been better off if we'd never found it. But we're here now, and we have to make the most of it."
"And I thought I was the one with a monopoly on optimism," Fox replied and gave the human a conciliatory smile.
Waller grinned. "Your parents must be really interesting."
With that Fox's face grew dark.
"They're gone, aren't they?" Waller's face radiated sympathy. There was something comforting in the way he didn't say something cliché or trite like the ubiquitous 'I'm sorry for your loss' or the decidedly melodramatic 'You have my sympathies'. The human seemed to simply understand.
Fox nodded quietly. "And I suspect it's the same for you."
Waller nodded and smiled sadly.
"It sucks," Waller cursed silently.
Fox glanced at the human, for the first time glimpsing someone who, despite obvious differences, might not have been so different after all.
"It does indeed," Fox responded and exhaled deeply.
And the pair fell silent.
The scene of black ash wafted into his dark, powerful nostrils. The cold whiteness of the snow ripped across his fur and clothes like a savage, intangible wraith.
General Kivuli Solarex glided his large primate hands over the escape pod that contained his latest prize. Within the glass, a strikingly beautiful female primate lay with her eyes shut and blood dripping from her temples. Despite the snow that blanketed the landscape, the impact had not been kind to his lovely Prize.
Oh Andrea, my sweet Andrea, he thought silently as a massive sneer spread across his scarred face. The ice crystals which had formed on the pod's glass casing glided across his fingertips, stinging him, though he paid the pain no mind. We're going to have so much fun, you and I.
"General Solarex!" A masculine voice blared out over the roaring wind. Solarex turned and beheld a squat lizard in maximum thermal gear. Damn reptiles, he scoffed disapprovingly. They think they're tough shit, but as soon as winter breaks out, they wither and die.
"What is it, Comrade?" his cold, deep voice projected blandly.
"We've just received word that our ruse was successful. They're coming."
"Good," the primate replied deeply. He ground his hands together as he prepared to issue his latest order.
"Move in and retrieve the Device, but keep broadcasting that distress signal." He smiled darkly. "When Star Fox attempts to land, kill them all. But leave the human alive," he emphasized so the idiot would understand.
"Yessir," the lizard barked and salute smartly and disappeared into the whiteness that housed an entire legion of his best troops.
Alone once more, he glided his hand over the glass canopy that housed his Prize.
Oh, Andrea. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have some killing to do, my sweet. Soon, baby, soon, I promise you will know what it means to slowly lose everything, he thought silently. A dark grin stretched across his face once more as he beheld the structure that awaited in the distant whiteness like a monolith that stood forever, immune to cosmic law.
Soon, the Fichina Weather Control Device would be his.
Things are starting to get a little more complicated, so I figured I'd try to explain a few terms that are part of the story's universe, but not necessarily central to the story.
Earthspace: Most humans of this alternate mid-20th century universe have come to know of their collection of worlds as 'Earthspace', regardless of nation or region of the cosmos. Popular belief dictates that humanity's largest religious group (which gained popularity after the downfall of the Roman Empire), the Earthists, believe that mankind once arose from 'common earth'. Thus, under the influence of Earthist culture, many humans call their collective cosmos Earthspace, or alternatively, 'Earth'.
The Malakhim: Malakhim is an ancient Hebrew word for 'Angel'. It was adopted after the survivors of the Fall of Rome settled on Neo Roma (later Neo). In a time when much of Earthspace was consumed by lawlessness, technological stagnation, and religious crusades, the Roman survivors saw themselves as the 'light' of the galaxy, assuming the responsibility of preserving Western culture and philosophy from as far back as the ancient Greek World-States and Egyptian Pyramid-Builders. However, they do so with or without the consent of 'lesser', younger nations. They also consider the Soviet Union to be a major threat to Earthspace.
Malakhim Water: Malakhim water, or, more popularly, 'Angel Water' is a transparent liquid extracted from the Ice Mountains that stretch across the northern hemisphere of the ice planet Neo. Upon ingestion, the liquid carries out seemingly miraculous healing capabilities that were previously unprecedented. Science, for all its horrors and marvels, has yet to discern what makes Angel Water heal living creatures as it does. The liquid's value was increased further when the Malakhim closed off foreign access to their home system, promising to annihilate any ships who were unlucky or unintelligent enough to wander near their world.
Soldier-legionnaires: The Malakhim dedicated themselves to the preservation of Western culture, but such preservation required measures of control. The Malakhim took it upon themselves to establish outposts throughout Earthspace, training and indoctrinating individuals from various nations into their military and later sending them into the armies and political offices of their respective nations, insuring the preservation of Roman and Western thought and ideals.
That's it for the terms for now, and at this point I'd like to thank everyone for reading and providing clear, honest feedback.