_ _ _
Half
Fox angrily shoves Slippy's hammer into his chest.
Slippy's eyes are confused. He's hurt by Fox's expression alone.
"Falco won't be joining us today. I hope you're happy. Get your shit and suit up, we leave in ten."
"F-fox?! Wh-"
"I don't want to fucking hear it, okay? Get your shit. Suit up. If you aren't in your arwing and heading towards Venom in ten fucking minutes, you're fired. Do you understand that?"
"Y-yes sir."
"What in god's name did you think he'd use that for? Like he's some mechanic or something." Fox doesn't wait for an answer, he's already on his way down the hall. Blissfully unaware that mechanics don't use hammers, that's carpenters he's thinking of. "Fuck sake."
"Fox, I don't understand..."
He doesn't answer. He probably didn't even hear him. And if he did, he probably wasn't even listening.
Slippy's never been able to communicate with Fox in such a way that made him feel like he wasn't worthless.
It's not like it's much to ask for, is it? To be respected as a valuable member of the team?
Slippy closes his eyes and shakes his head. A sly tear sneaks from the far corner of his eye and rolls down his smooth cheek.
No. Respect has to be earned, he tells himself again and again. Fox will treat you like an equal when you deserve it.
When you earn it.
Slippy suits up and tries not to cry, but he does.
He gets mad at himself, too, because mercenaries don't cry.
Fox guns another down and sends it spiraling into the waste. Smoke billowing from the ship's tailpipe, it explodes on impact. Quick spin right, rolling his ship to deflect oncoming attacks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see an enemy on Slippy's tail. He finds himself infuriated. Sharp left turn. He pulls the controls down hard to lead him out of a nosedive and towards the drone behind Slippy but by the time he does, he catches Slippy pulling outwards, having led his antagonists into a trap.
"Slippy, you gotta be more careful! You hear me? I almost lost my shit because of you."
Slippy doesn't respond. He's dismantled his communicator. Fox angrily removes his headset and slams it into the console. He isn't sure why he did that.
He takes the opposite route Slippy did. Hugging the ship's belly as his head hangs awkwardly to the right. Weaving and spinning around pillars spitting from the floor and fortress walls of Venom, designed to disorient and destroy even the most skillful of pilots. His brow furrows - sweat matting his fur to his skin.
The cool air from the ventilation system sending shivers down his spine. Canons fire - taking out another short row of drowns on the offense. A breath escapes him.
He can't shake the look from Falco's eyes.
Every time he closes his own, he sees that crazed look, that face of a man willing to sacrifice everything to avoid this war.
Oncoming fire damages his shield. He cries out even though he doesn't want to and didn't mean to.
More oncoming fire. Spin. Hard dodge. The great magnet, pulling him forward, despite the odds.
Yeah. Despite the odds.
"Fuck you, Falco," he says, licking the sweat off his lips. "I'll see you in hell, you rotten piece of shit."
Hard left to dodge another outgrowing pillar, shots fired arbitrarily in front of him until his canons require a moment of cooling.
Almost there. Almost.
He closes his eyes for just a second and his body involuntarily embraces the void. Darkness swells around him and for a moment he is still - still and calling out.
Krystal.
Are you there?
She isn't. He forces his eyes open and he takes a hard left through the maze of walls on this planet.
Fox was never much one for religion. He never much believed in no god. But he did pray, pray to something, really anything, that his ship would make that hard bank left.
And still the wall clipped his left wing hard.
Canons firing arbitrarily as his ship spiraled downward. You could say in some capacity he dug his own grave. But really it was more like a hellish void he'd die in, he thought, as he pulled up hard on the controls. He knew it was no use, but the underside of his own tail sent him tumbling past his assigned grave, the tail of the ship catching the lip of the cage and sending him tumbling forward arbitrarily.
Before he loses consciousness, he thinks of Peppy and Krystal. Slippy and Falco.
The Star Fox Team.
Slippy isn't sure where he lost Fox but he knows he's alright. Fox is a natural born leader – a veteran soldier.
No adversary could ever hope to crush him.
Before his very eyes, Slippy sees his opportunity to prove himself as a valuable member of the team. Hitting the field, he pulls up hard on the controls. His grip tightening, tension draining the color in his knuckles. Eyes wide, unaware of how tense he is.
Spiraling upward, Slippy feels weightless. Tension relieves for a moment and he closes his eyes. A feather drifting along the cool breeze. Soft pink fluffy clouds at sunset. For a brief moment, he's not on Venom and the universe around him isn't under threat of being destroyed.
He's somewhere else, a place from which he draws his power. A place where he truly feels like anything can be accomplished.
And with that, he opens his eyes and tips the controls forward. Turning the nose of the ship towards the opening into the heart of the beast planet Venom.
And there, Andross is waiting.
