Chapter One: A Rift in Space

Purple and grey, the gunship of Samus Aran cut silently through the void, all systems go, sensors running and weapons charged. Few would want to meet it in a fight: over one-hundred thirty tons, an engine that allowed for high-relativistic speeds, and enough power beams and plasma cannons to cut through an asteroid belt.

Today, however, was not going to be a day for violence. A few months since the whole debacle with the X Parasites, things were slowly getting back to normal- she even had taken to wearing a red and orange power suit again as the infection subsided. There hadn't been any major incidents of late, nobody the Galactic Federation needed dead... even the Space Pirates had been quiet. Too quiet, Samus thought.

So instead, Samus was being asked to simply act as a delivery-woman for some science probes. Some type of rift in space. Samus wasn't a scientist, but it'd help pay the bills, and, more importantly, get her back in the good graces of the Federation after she had destroyed the parasites they had wanted to use as weapons. Assuming, of course, that this wasn't some convoluted plot to kill her.
So there she was, sitting in her gunship, without her armor, clad only in her light-blue Zero Suit. The rift was coming up. Would be visible soon. Technically, there was no reason she even had to get within visual range of it- the probes could have been launched from tens of thousands of AUs away- but Samus was curious.

"Thirty seconds until visual range," said the gunship's computer, imprinted with the mind of Samus's old commander, Adam Malkovich, "Proceed with caution."

Samus turned to her console to prepare the probes. It would be simple, just launch them, check to make sure they didn't say anything immediately, then get out. Simple.

"Rift now in visual range," said Adam Malkovich.

"Thank you, Adam," said Samus, who turned her head to finally face what she was supposed to be investigating.

The rift was impressive, that was for sure, like a clean wound, a strange purple color that stood out from the rest of the space. And, Samus thought, it seemed... unnerving. Not quite right, like it lacked any depth or dimension.

"Send out probes," ordered Samus.

The gunship gave off a brief shutter as the three probes darted out and away from it. Samus saw them move, ever so quickly, towards the rift. Now it was just a matter of waiting. Samus didn't have to wait long. As the probes approached, Adam called out, ghostly, from his artificial being:

"There are several types of radio signals being detected from the rift, lady. I'll patch them in... any objections, lady?"

Samus extended her right arm and, turning her hand, gave the ship's computer a thumbs down.

"Patching in now. Unknown location. Translation software will be engaged when needed."

Samus leaned forward, a feeling in her gut gnawing at her. She wasn't sure what it meant, but it probably wasn't good. It was the feeling she'd had in her gut in the past only when bad things were about to happen. K-2L, the Zero Mission, the whole Phazon affair, the destruction of Zebes, the Bottle Ship, her times on SR388. Those were times where she'd gotten that feeling.

But what she heard over the radio seemed... mundane. Unusual, but mundane.

"We're here from Mute City," said a human announcer, although Samus had no idea where such a city was, although it was, admittedly, a big galaxy, "and as we near the final lap, Captain Falcon maintains his lead!"

A race of some kind, Samus realized. She never had much time for sports as she flew from place to place, but she had never heard of a racer called Captain Falcon. But still, just to be sure...

"Adam, please bring up any data on Captain Falcon," she said.

"Hang on a second," replied the computer.

The announcer continued to describe the race: "Oh, here comes Mr. EAD, and... NO! NO! Samurai Goroh just smashed him away!

Better luck next time, EAD! It's Falcon, Goroh, Stewart and Summers and the final lap begins now!"

Adam interjected: "No data on any being named 'Captain Falcon', although there is a [i]Captain Falcone[/i] in the Federation Marines.

Any more requests?"

"Mute City, Samurai Goroh, Mr. EAD," Samus said.

"Goroh is trying to get past Falcon, but the Blue Falcon is maintaining the lead!" screamed the announcer.

"No data found, although there's some that suggests that EAD was a... hang on, another broadcast is coming in..."

There was brief static, and then some unintelligible voices, but then the translator kicked in, and all was made clear.

Well, the words were made clear, the meaning wasn't.

"Hocotate Freight! The best deep-space shipping company on Hocotate! Call us at..."

Adam interrupted:
"There is no known planet called Hocotate."

"I figured as much," said Samus, looking at the rift ahead, a frown upon her face. That feeling in her gut grew bigger. Something bad was going to happen. She breathed in, preparing, just in case.

"Another message coming in, Samus," said Adam, "A distress call."

A thought, and Samus Aran's power suit was materializing around her. As her vision had a heads-up display emerge in front of her, Samus could almost hear the ancient Chozo, their calls echoing through caverns and darkness.

"Put it on, Adam," she said.

The static broke, and there came a voice, the voice of a leader, young, a bit cocky, but still the voice of a leader:

"This is Fox McCloud of the Star Fox team, myself and another team member have become trapped in a rift in space, requesting assistance," the voice- Fox McCloud- said.

"Yeah, genius, because broadcasting who we are will totally bring help and not anybody who wants to kill us," said a second voice.

"Quiet, Falco," said the first voice, Fox.

Inside the gunship, Samus was suddenly unsure what to do. Perhaps they were explorers or soldiers, lost inside the rift, but they way the second voice had spoken, it seemed just as likely they were criminals who very well could have deserved the fate they had found themselves in. But if...

"Adam, can you detect any vehicles in there?" asked Samus.

"Yes, analyzing..." said the computer, "The transmissions seem to be coming from two small fighter-craft utilizing gravity diffusing technology."

Hardly the weapons of criminals, thought Samus, at least, not around here.

Samus reached her finger out, opening a channel:

"Fox McCloud, this is Samus Aran. I am located outside of the rift. Activating homing signal. Follow it, copy?"

There was a brief pause.

"Copy, Samus Aran, following now," said Fox.

"Well, if this is the end of McCloud and Lombardi, at least we aren't going down at the hands of Andross, huh, Fox?"

"Please, Falco, follow that beacon signal."

There was then silence for a few minutes, besides the occasional chatter between the two pilots and report by Adam. At least, until one particular report by the computer:

"Samus, probes are indicating that the rift is beginning to close..."


Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi had simply been meaning to go on a training flight. Nothing more, nothing less. It was probably just happenstance, Fox thought, that they'd end up flying into a rift. It had come out of nowhere, like a tear in the fabric of space. They didn't have enough time to do a U-turn. The rift closed behind them. They were trapped. Had Slippy been there, he no doubt would have had some theory or scanner to determine what was happening, but old Slip wasn't with them.

It was only because of the kindness of a stranger that they were now approaching an exit. Maybe if they got out they could a hold of the Great Fox and find out what was going on. Now, though, it just seemed a case of flying towards the signal.

At least, that's what Fox had hoped, the message that was now coming across the channel:

"Samus Aran to Fox McCloud, my sensors our indicating the rift is closing. Get out of there!"

"You heard her, Falco! Gun it!"

The Arwings' back thrusters burst, and they sped forward.


"They're not going to make it," said Samus, looking at a radar screen that estimated the distance left between the two fighter-craft and the rapidly-closing rift.

"Rift will close in estimated one minute," said Adam.

"You have one minute, Star Fox Team," radioed Samus, "less than it now."

"Copy that," said Fox McCloud, calm and cool under pressure.


As the Arwing sped forward, Fox couldn't help but think a bit. Mainly about his father, James McCloud. He'd been the original Star Fox. He died, although Fox still swore he had seen him, heard him, since then.

The rift was closing up ahead. Maybe they would make it, maybe not. But, above all, Fox knew one thing: he wasn't going to just give up. That was one thing his father had always told him: Never give up.

"C'mon, c'mon..."

The rift was closing in, but it was also closing shut.

"Fox, it was an honor," said Falco.

"Don't honor us yet..."

Closer, closer, closer. Just a few dozen more yards, just a few more seconds. They could see the real space, the real universe, blue and black amongst the purple. But the purple was closing...


"The rift will close in five, four, three, two..." said Adam.

Just then, blasting through just in time, were two swept-wing fighters, small, one-man.

"The rift is closed," said Adam.

"Hello, this is Fox McCloud, Samus... thank you," said the voice.

Samus gave herself a slight smile, and let her power suit dissolve.

"Glad to hear, Fox McCloud. Now... do you have any idea what is going on?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you that," replied Fox.


Beyond the space and stars, somewhere else, somebody ran down the endless floor, they had seen something that wasn't supposed to happen. Something that shouldn't have happened without them either knowing or causing it.

Someone, or something, was messing with the multiverse.