The two Arwings blasted out of the hangar, one after the other. Once they had cleared the ship, the lead Arwing rotated until it's cockpit had tilted to the right, then pulled into the tilt as it launched itself toward the larger vessel.
"We got a good connection? Can everyone hear me?" Slippy's voice crackled through the communication system.
"Read you loud and clear, Slip." Falco responded.
"I read you, Slippy." Fox stated, then asked, "What do you need for your analysis?"
"Right." There was a brief pause before Slippy continued. "Just fly by the ship, get real close. I got your sensors rigged to the Great Fox, so I'll be able to see what you see."
"Got it." Falco immediately veered his Arwing away from Fox, speeding toward the far side of the massive ship. Fox would have preferred that he had waited until being given the order, but that was Falco for you. Besides, he was doing what Fox would have wanted him to do anyway. Even so, he had to ensure at least one thing. "Careful Falco. We don't know what's out here. We don't know what kind of trouble they're in or if whatever made that trouble is still around."
"Yeah yeah, I'm ready for it. Don't worry about me, just worry about your own hide."
Fox watched as Falco's ship disappeared along the far side of the massive vessel they were investigating, then shook his head and sighed. Some things never changed. Still, it was time to get to work. He tilted the nose of his Arwing until it faced the hull of the vessel, then gently eased the Arwing forward until he was running alongside the larger ship. He kept the Arwing's brakes applied, keeping his ship moving at a slow pace so as to take in as much as possible. He leveled his Arwing out before turning and examining the other vessel as he glided by. "You getting all this, Slip?"
"Ooohhhh yeah." Slippy's voice rang over the intercom. "Oh man, there's a lot here. I wish you could see this!"
"Uh..." Fox took another look at the ship he was flying by. "Pretty sure I'm looking at it." While the Arwing ran across the length of the vessel, he had to take a moment to admire the thing. It was beautifully designed. Massive, yet elegant. Nothing like the slipshod design of some of the pirates he had encountered in the past. The surface of the hull was smooth and unblemished, it looked practically like it had just come out of the starport. So far he wasn't seeing anything too unusual. Certainly nothing to explain the communications blackout. Someone should be home.
Slippy's voice cut in over the comm. "Right, right, but man...wow! I'm getting a ton of data."
"Falco, how is it on your end?" Fox tilted his head to the side and laid one of his fingers gently against his headset, tapping it lightly. "Everything okay over there?"
"Okay for me." Falco responded. "Not so much for these guys, though. Found a docking bay, but it's been trashed pretty bad. Don't think anyone's getting out of there." He paused before adding, "Or going in."
"Hold up, I'm coming up on something." Fox hit a couple of switches before pulling the Arwing to a dead stop. He stared at the section of the hull he was parked next to. It didn't look right. It was peppered with small holes, the hull scorched black. The holes revealed no light from within the vessel, meaning that particular area of the ship was either out of power or sealed. "Slippy, what am I looking at here?"
"Looks like hull fractures. A bunch of 'em. Not totally uncommon for large vessels, like if they go near an asteroid belt or something. Usually they get a repair bot to..." There was a pause, then a crackle of static. Fox tapped his headset a couple of times, wondering what had happened. When Slippy spoke again, he sounded confused. "That's weird."
"What's weird?" Fox wanted to know.
"Judging by the preliminary scans of the data you're sending...whatever made those holes came from inside the ship, not out. Well, for some of 'em, anyway."
"Inside?" Fox quirked an eyebrow up. "Great. Well, whatever did this might still be on board."
"Yeah." Slippy was silent for a while before adding, "Well, keep going! I need more data to analyze."
And so Fox went. The more of the ship that he covered in his sweep, the more concerned he became. Most of the ship was relatively intact. There were a few spots where the hull seemed to be compromised, but the damage was mostly superficial. Worrisome, though. Almost all the damage was like that of the first, coming from inside the ship, not out. There was absolutely no trace of anything from an outside source. How could an enemy force invade the ship without firing a shot? Infiltration? Sabotage? The question troubled Fox, and he found himself growing more edgy about the situation.
"Whoa!" Fox gasped, unable to help himself. He had come upon something big. "Are you seeing this Slippy? What happened here?" Fox was looking at what must have been a docking bay at one time. Scattered debris had been blasted into space, floating around the bay. As he drew closer, he could see the derelict remains of several small ships within. Some were smashed up pretty good, some were utterly destroyed. The whole dock was a complete mess.
"That's similar to what Falco found. Can't even begin to imagine what happened in there."
"Falco," Fox tapped on his headset with one finger. "You finished on your side?"
"Yup," came Falco's easy reply. "I've sent everything to Slippy. Just waiting on your orders now."
"Right." Fox took a deep breath. "Krystal? You there?"
"I'm here, Fox." Her voice rang over the communicator crisp and clear, none of the softness of her voice lost despite their current means of communication.
"You getting anything? Anything we can use?"
There was a long pause. Fox didn't know if she was making another attempt or if she just wasn't sure how to answer. When she next spoke, he sensed a trace of unease. "It's difficult to say. There is something alien there, something I cannot understand. It's so powerful, it's almost overwhelming..."
"Krystal, don't overdo it." Fox frowned. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her, and certainly not due to something he could have prevented.
The communicator crackled to life again. The soft gentleness was gone, replaced with something with a little more fire. She was firm, but not harsh. "Fox, for the last time, you don't need to coddle me. I can take care of myself, and I know what I can and cannot handle."
"I didn't mean..." Fox started, then shook his head. "Sorry Krystal, I just...sorry."
Someone snickered over the comm line. Probably Falco, but Fox didn't bother to reprimand him. He knew he was getting a bit over-protective of Krystal. He wasn't trying to be, but he couldn't help himself. He just didn't want to see her hurt...
"It's alright, Fox." Krystal's voice came through again, then a brief silence. He found himself wondering if she had read his thoughts. He could never tell. "Now that we're closer, I can make out a number of distinct thought patterns. Patterns like our own. But there is another, a much stronger one. It has many voices, many thoughts. Yet...somehow it is one."
"Hmm." Fox didn't like the sound of that, but he didn't even know what her analysis even meant. "Uh, anything more you can tell us?"
"I've never sensed it before, this I know, but..." Krystal hesitated. "It's familiar, somehow. In a way that I can't explain."
"Alright." Fox leaned back, massaging his forehead as he pondered what their next course should be. They'd have to take this slow, cautious. There was no telling what was onboard that vessel. Fox straightened himself in his seat before tapping his comm again. "Alright, people, here's what we're going to do. Falco and I will withdraw and return to the Great Fox. We need to suit up. After seeing that damage, we need to be prepared for dealing with areas that might be exposed to vacuum. In the meanwhile,we'll send a message to Corneria, informing them of the situation and requesting advice. Then we're going in."
"We're not going onboard now?" Falco didn't sound pleased.
"We will, Falco. Just not yet. I don't want to rush into anything we're not prepared for. We don't even know if there's anyone left onboard, and I don't want to blunder in."
"Whatever. I'll head back then."
"He's doing the right thing, Falco." Krystal's tone took on a scolding quality. "We don't know what's on that ship, and there's no reason to take senseless risks."
"Yeah." Slippy's voice came through over the comm channel, chiming in. "Plus, I mean, it's not like the ship is going anywhere. It's sustained damage, but orbit is steady. For now. Still running some analysis on the extent of the damage. I don't like the looks of one of those engines, the situation might deteriorate, but for now..."
Slippy was interrupted by a loud, recurring beeping sound. Fox blinked, looking around as if he might see something unusual out there in space. "What's that sound, Slip?"
"Getting a message! It's coming from somewhere inside the ship! Relaying now."
There was a pause, the sound of static crackling over the communications system. Fox thought that he heard a voice, but he couldn't be sure. It was blended with the static, incomprehensible. If there was a voice, it wasn't speaking anything he could understand. "I'm not getting anything, Slippy. What's wrong?"
"I don't know, it's just..."
Slippy didn't get a chance to finish. A male voice broke through with a firm and authoritative tone. It was not a voice that Fox recognized, but then he didn't really expect to. The message was garbled with static, much of it breaking up and not making through. There were also other scattered sounds in the background. Fox wasn't sure what it was, but it sounded a little like weapons fire. "This is Lieutenant...-ras of the starship Von...-ip has been severely compromised, we are...-y an unknown life form. ...hijacked the sh...Do not...-is ship... the stars. We cannot...this ship. Godspeed."
Well, at least they knew there was someone alive on that ship, people in need of assistance. Still, he couldn't help but get the feeling that there was more to this message than a simple cry for help. Unfortunate that there was so much interference with the transmission, that it was so garbled. He really needed to know what the person was trying to say. It could be a distress call. It could be a warning. It could be some crucial information to help them deal with this situation. He didn't like that "hijacked" word, though. Or rather, the implications of it. "Slippy, can you clean it up at all?"
"It's pretty bad, Fox," came Slippy's reply. "It's gonna take me a while. And there's only so much I can do." Almost immediately after he stopped speaking, there was another beeping sound. Slippy sounded off again. "Wait a second. There's something else coming thr-"
A voice came through, a voice that Fox knew very, very well. He froze, his mouth hanging open as he listened to the communication, given from a soft feminine voice. There was still some static in the background, but the message on this communication was mostly clear, uninterrupted.
"If there's anyone out there, please...help us!"
It was like time had frozen around him. A proverbial lightning bolt had just struck him, thoughts and feelings of the distant past reanimated as though they had happened only yesterday. His heart, which he could now hear and feel with every palpitation, leapt into his throat as he stared blankly into space. He could barely breathe. He had planned everything out. He had decided to approach the situation with caution until they better knew what they were dealing with.
Yet all of that went up in smoke the instant he recognized the cry for help. Or rather, who it came from.
Fara?
"Fara?"
Slippy twitched as Fox uttered the word, his communicator still transmitting. "Uh oh." He mumbled to himself, then gave a nervous glance toward Krystal.
She looked confused, troubled. "Fara?" She tilted her head to the side with an inquisitive quirk of one eyebrow, then glanced at Slippy. "Who's Fara?"
"Uhhhh..." Slippy stammered, not entirely sure what to say. He knew how Fox felt about Krystal. Everyone knew, heck, even ROB knew, and he was a robot. Fox acted like he was keeping it a secret, but he did a rather poor job of it. The only one who seemed not to get it was Krystal herself, though maybe that was just an act. Either way, Slippy knew Fox cared for Krystal. Somehow, Slippy just didn't feel right telling her about Fox's old flame.
Krystal was still staring at him, so he offered her a nervous grin. "Fara? Oh, uh...you know, just...just an old friend of Fox's. They go way back."
"I've never heard Fox mention her." Krystal's gaze turned downward as she rubbed at her chin with one paw. Slippy gulped, suddenly wishing that he was anywhere else but here.
"Oh no, he wouldn't." Slippy cleared his throat, his words coming out hastily. "Ancient history. I don't think they've talked in years. They knew each other during the Lylat Wars, that was years ago. So you know, just old friends."
"Friends?" Krystal asked him, one of her eyebrows arching.
"Friends." Slippy stated again, his attempts to keep Krystal in the dark sounding pathetic even to his own ears. "Yup! That's what they were! Old friends, good friends! Close friends!" As he rambled, he couldn't look at Krystal, instead staring down at the floor as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd seen all day. Yet somehow, he couldn't stop talking. He knew before he even opened his mouth that he was about to say something stupid. "Certainly not an ex girlfriend or..." Slippy bit his lower lip, hissing as he realized what he'd done. "Or, you know, uh...anything at all like that."
Smooth recovery Slippy, he thought to himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
When he dared to look up at Krystal, he found her reaction to be...not at all what he expected. She didn't look angry or jealous. She didn't look upset. In fact, if anything, she simply looked...concerned.
"They cared a great deal about each other, didn't they?" She asked quietly.
"Uh...well, I mean...um..." Slippy couldn't quite get the words out, stammering out a jumbled response, perhaps in part because he didn't know what those words should be. "You see, I should probably...um..."
Again, she didn't react the way he expected her to. She simply smiled at him encouragingly. "It's alright Slippy. I honestly don't care about whoever may lie in Fox's past. It's not going to change my opinion of him."
"Ah." Slippy said. Just ah. He couldn't manage to get anything else out.
"I just want to make sure that he's going to be okay." Krystal said, her gaze turning toward the viewport and the great ship that lay beyond it.
"Well, uh..." Slippy reached one hand up and scratched at the back of his head before continuing. "They were pretty close, yeah. Really close. I don't really know what happened between them, but I know for a while he was, um...he really liked her."
"I see." Krystal didn't bother looking at Slippy as she spoke, keeping her eyes glued to the other ship instead. "Then...do you think he's going to go aboard?"
"Uh..." Slippy swallowed hard, thinking about the question. Fox had just said he wouldn't, which should mean something. But at the same time...
He knew Fox. He had to be the hero. It wasn't a vanity thing, he just wanted to do what was right. That might be the real power that managed to keep the Star Fox team together all these years. All of them were skilled in different ways, but Fox had an earnest desire, maybe even need, to do the right thing. And when his friends were in danger...Slippy well remembered what Fox went through to rescue him on Titania. And the countless times Fox had bailed Slippy out when a dogfight was going badly. Fox cared for his friends, and he would go through proverbial hell to save them.
When he was able to clear his head enough to give Krystal an answer, he could only say it in a quiet, nervous tone. "I think there might be a good chance, yeah."
Krystal sighed before closing her eyes, her shoulders slumping as she lowered her head. "That's what I was afraid of."
It took a long time for Fox to recover from that shock. So many memories came flooding up within him. Fara. The first vixen he had ever loved. The only one, before Krystal. Their training together. The races. The bets and dares. The nights they spent under the stars. And in each other's arms...
"Fox? Hey! Fox!" He heard the sound of something over the comm system, like fingers being snapped. That finally was enough to bring him out of the daze, causing him to shake his head while he cleared his thoughts. Had he uttered her name aloud? He hoped not. Either way, his mind was made up now. He knew what had to be done.
"Slippy."
"Yeah Fox?"
"Try to get in contact. Send a message, now."
"Sure thing, Fox." Fox waited a few moments, giving Slippy and ROB enough time to attempt to send a message back. He closed his eyes, fighting his inner instincts which were screaming at him to get moving. But he needed to do this right. Flying in both blind and reckless was a sure recipe for disaster. He'd have to wait, at least for a few moments.
"Okay, uh...Fox?" Slippy's voice again, coming over the comm. "We've sent a message in response. I've tried across multiple frequencies. No response. Something must be wrong with their equipment."
"Was it a repeated broadcast, Slippy? Or was it live? Did we hear what she just said at this moment?"
"Uh..." Slippy went quiet, the comm going silent. He wasn't sure why it was taking Slippy so long to respond. Did he genuinely not know? Or did he not want to say the answer? At last, his voice came through. "I mean...I can't say for absolute certainty, but...I'd say it was real time. They just sent that message to us. Or, uh...or she did."
That was what Fox needed to know. And that was what made up his mind. "Guys..." Fox took a deep breath, swallowing hard. "Change of plans. I'm going in, I want Falco to cover me."
"But you just said..." Falco started to protest. Fox didn't let him finish.
"Just do it. We're going in. Slippy?" Fox turned in his seat, looking in the direction of the Great Fox. "Do what I said. Contact Corneria, ask them to advise. Keep me informed. But I'm docking now."
The comms were silent. Even though he hadn't said anything, Fox knew that Slippy wasn't happy. But he didn't protest. When he broke the silence, he merely said "Alright, Fox."
"Fox, what are you doing?" Krystal didn't sound happy. Her voice had taken a harsh edge. "Don't do this. You promised me."
"I'm sorry, Krystal." He really was. He didn't want to break his promise to her, but there was no possible way he could just stand back and do nothing, not now. "We now know for a certainty that there are people alive in there. And that was a plea for help if I've ever heard one. I'm going to secure the hangar. When I'm done with that..." Fox paused, closing his eyes. He had promised her, hadn't he? He wanted Krystal to be safe, and he wanted her not to worry about him. She didn't want him to coddle her. She wanted to help him. What could he do? He still hadn't told her how much she meant to him. And if he pulled a stunt like this, she might...
Suddenly, it came to him, in a moment of flashing clarity, or perhaps insanity. There was an answer. Only one answer, it seemed to him. In truth, part of him didn't like it, perhaps even hated it. He didn't know if she'd like it or not either. But it was the only thing he could think of.
Compromise.
Here goes nothing. He licked his lips, which had become rather dry before continuing. "I want you to join me, Krystal. We'll go deck by deck if we have to. And we'll watch each others' backs."
Krystal was silent for a long while. Everyone was silent. The tension was almost palpable. Fox leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his forehead. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
"Why? Why are you doing this?" She asked. She sounded hurt. And Fox couldn't say he blamed her. He wanted to tell her more, tell her about Fara. But now wasn't the time.
"I have to do this." Fox said simply.
Another long pause, followed by a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll be there soon. But you better be careful! Don't you dare get yourself stranded over there without me!"
Fox smiled faintly, even though there was nobody around to see it. "Don't worry, Krystal. We're Star Fox. We can handle anything." With that, he seized hold of the throttle and flicked a switch, sending the Arwing forward. "I'm going to search for an opening in one of the docking bays, see if I can't find somewhere to park an Arwing."
"Gonna be tough, Fox." Falco's voice sputtered over the comm. "All the ones on my side are totally trashed. Even I wouldn't wanna take a chance putting my ship in one of those."
"Yeah, it's not much better on my end." Fox scanned the side of the enormous vessel, hoping that there was something out there that he just hadn't seen yet, a small untouched hangar or bay. No such luck. When he reached the nose of the ship, he had to do a quick loop around to scan again. But the only thing he found even remotely viable was the damaged bay he had discovered earlier. By the time he made it there, the familiar sight of Falco's Arwing greeted him. He could just see Falco's head within the cockpit of his craft. Falco seemed to be studying the massive vessel himself.
"Slippy," Fox started, tapping a switch on the panel in front of him, causing a black and white screen to pop up. This provided him an alternative view of what lay before him, making it a bit easier to find paths and gaps in the mess sprawling ahead. "Can you get anything useful out of this? Any space to land?"
"Gimme a sec..." Slippy mumbled over the comm system. For a while, all was quiet. Fox was just sitting there, waiting to hear from Slippy. He turned his attention back to the Von Dross. His eyes scanned one of the docking bays, the one closest to him. There was so much debris, and the thing was damaged in such a way that it would be almost impossible to get in and out. And that was to say nothing of what else might be on the inside, that which he could not see from here.
His fingers drummed against the side of the cockpit. He was trying to be patient, but that call for help just kept running through his head. Fara. He hadn't seen her in years, they'd lost contact with each other shortly after the Lylat Wars. And now...now she was in trouble.
He was just about to go ahead without Slippy's guidance before Fox was finally given an answer. "Okay Fox! I've got something. There's one bay that is SLIGHTLY less damaged than the others." There was a pause, then Slippy continued. "Mind you, I said slightly. It's not good, and I don't recommend landing in it, but..."
"I'm going in." Fox said.
Fox could hear Slippy grumbling over the comm system. "Yeaaaah..." He could practically see Slippy shaking his head. "Don't mind me or my advice, I'm just trying to save your life, no biggie."
"I appreciate your concern, Slip." Fox hit a few switches and then rested his hands on the flight stick. "I mean it. But I need to get in there now."
'Yeah yeah..."
He didn't wait for any further comments. Slippy had sent him what he needed. He studied the coordinates for a moment, then gently eased his ship in that direction. It wasn't far from his current position.
He wasn't alone, either. "I've got your back, Fox." That was Falco's voice crackling over the comm. Fox had to admit he was glad to have Falco there. He wasn't always the friendliest guy, a bit arrogant and rather quick with the sarcasm, but he was mostly a good sort. And there wasn't a better pilot in the Lylat System. Or at the very least, there were very, very few.
They flew together until they reached the appropriate coordinates. At first, Fox thought maybe it was the wrong bay. The place was a mess. But he quickly realized on closer inspection that the damage wasn't in the hangar itself, it was rather the debris inside and around it, floating all around. It looked little pieces of the ship had broken off and now were floating either inside or around it as the ship moved. He stared at the debris a bit before speaking to the others. "Alright Falco, let's do this slowly. I'm going to ease my way in. Keep me covered, make sure no surprises come in from behind." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "And don't fire at the debris. I don't know what's in there, could be something explosive. Last thing I want is to create a chain reaction that blows out what's left of the docking bay."
"I got it, I got it," came Falco's curt reply. "Sheesh. You do your thing, I'll do mine."
As Fox approached, he heard Slippy's voice. "Fox? I've got a video feed from your ship, but I'm getting some interference and it's hard to make out stuff. Describe what you're seeing, if you don't mind. It'll be pretty helpful."
"Gotcha, Slip." Fox affirmed. He took a deep breath, then nudged his ship closer.
"Careful, Fox." It was Krystal now, sounding concerned.
"Thanks, Krystal. I'll be fine. Just...get your ship ready." With that, he entered the debris.
He had to move the ship very slowly in order to navigate, occasionally having to flip gently to the right or left. Some of the debris was harmless enough, bits of metal, tubes, or assorted parts. They just bounced off his ship when he hit them, though he was doing a pretty good job of avoiding most of it. Certainly the bigger stuff.
Slippy cleared his throat over the comm, and then Fox remembered the frog's request. He started describing things as he saw them. "Alright, I'm in the middle of the field now, not too much dangerous here...lots of metal, lots of scrapped ship parts. Everything's scattered around haphazardly, no patterns or anything. It's kinda messy. Like an explosion or something."
"Yeah, that's what I'm getting too." Slippy chimed in. "Looks like a series of explosions. Based on my readings, I'm thinking some demolition charges. I'm not seeing any blaster fire or scorch marks from lasers. Whatever these pieces belonged to, they were taken out by explosives." Slippy could be heard clearing his throat. "I think so, anyway."
Fox continued to make his way deeper inside the debris field, describing whatever he got close to. He narrowly avoided what looked like the wing of a dog-fighter, half of a shuttle's cockpit, and a dead engine just slowly spinning around in space.
At last, he came to the entrance of the dock itself. He slowed the Arwing down so that it was barely moving, as it got much worse here. The debris at this location consisted of much bigger pieces floating around, stuff that he did -not- want to run into. "I'm seeing a number of fighters and interceptors. Pieces of them. The docking bay itself is..." He hesitated for a moment as he tried to get a better sense of what he was looking at. "...okay?"
The bay itself was mostly intact, though had obviously sustained some minor damage from weapons fire. The platforms were all still in place. The only real damage appeared to be all of the vessels and ships that were once there. He had to assume that most of the debris and destroyed ships he'd maneuvered through to get here were what was left of the ships normally docked here. There were a handful of ships on the platforms, but only a quarter of the full complement at best. And there was no telling what shape they were in until he got close.
"I'm entering the bay...now." Clearing one last husk of what was once an interceptor, the Arwing cleared the bay's entrance. "I'm looking for a safe place to land."
"Careful Fox..." Slippy warned him.
"Yeah, I got it Slippy, don't worry about it." Fox looked for a good place to land. There wasn't much room to work with. Most of the docking pads were occupied. Some by vessels that appeared relatively untouched, others by the wrecked debris. Now that he was up close, he could also see additional damage. Some of the pads themselves were out of commission. Scorch marks, bent frames. A ship couldn't land on them reliably. Debris was scattered everywhere, and some of the ships and shuttles looked like they had been blown apart. Some blown in half or into large chunks, others in much smaller scattered pieces.
Then he saw what he was looking for. In the far corner of the room. And, naturally, it was the furthest part of the bay from the airlock, which meant if he went to explore or investigate the vessel, his ship would be the absolute farthest it could possibly be from him in the event of an emergency. So if there was a problem...
His thoughts were interrupted by Krystal's voice. "I' m almost ready Fox. I'm prepping my ship now. I'll be there soon."
Fox nodded his head, then remembered she couldn't see that. "Affirmative. Can't wait though, going to secure the immediate area, then I'll come back here to meet you when you arrive. We'll do this together."
"Alright. Don't do anything stupid."
The remark made Fox grin. "C'mon Krystal. When have I ever done anything like that?"
Falco's immediate snort could be heard over the comm. "Shut it, Falco." Fox growled.
"Hey, it's like I said." Fox could hear the snark even through the intercom. "Wait until AFTER you get back to do something stupid."
Fox just rolled his eyes. Sometimes, that bird...
Anyway, it was time to do this thing.
He found one of the only available landing pads that was mostly intact, gently setting his ship down, a slow process as he wanted to make sure that he didn't damage the thing and, more importantly, it would support the weight of the ship. He ever so gently set the ship down, doing it manually. He did not want to switch from auto-dock if there was something wrong with the pad. He'd have to be ready.
The Arwing thrusters continued to fire, slowing the descent ever so slightly. And then...a brief shudder as the vehicle made contact. Arwings didn't have wheels or any sort of landing gear, really. They were built to simply land as is, as they could simply rise vertically when they launched, though they could also be propelled forward from a hangar with the right equipment. Equipment that they once had on the Great Fox. The old one, not the new one. He found himself missing it all over again, over something as simple as landing the ship...
With that, his Arwing came to a stop. He kept his paws tight on the control stick, ready to hit the thrusters if the platform started to give or crumble. That had happened to him once before while landing on a derelict. Quick thinking and quicker reflexes had gotten him out of that one, but he really didn't want to repeat the experience if he could help it.
Thankfully, there was no problem. All was quiet, all was well. The ship settled down gently, landing with a faint thud and rattle as the thrusters turned off. With the flick of a few switches, he was good to go. The Arwing grew quiet, the hum of power silencing as the engines powered down. He still had his hands on the controls, ready to turn things on in case of emergency...but so far, everything was good.
He took a cursory glance around the hangar. There wasn't much to see, aside from the scattered debris floating all around. He had to wonder what happened here, but he'd have to find the answers later. He let out a low whistle as he took in the size of this place. It was big, designed to fit a great many ships, or maybe just a handful of big ones. They could easily fit a couple dozen Arwings in here with little difficulty, probably a lot more. It was impressive, to say the least.
Anyway, time to suit up.
It wouldn't take him long to equip his gear. It was a little bit awkward, changing in the cockpit, but fortunately he had enough room, and technology was to the point that space suits weren't nearly the complicated and clunky things they used to be. Still a bit uncomfortable, that was for sure, but designed to be more flexible and less restrictive. He could almost move as fast in the suit as he would without it, and it would keep him safe through any pockets of the ship that were exposed to vacuum. Like the hangar he was now in. He was certainly grateful that Slippy had packed the thing now, and for getting it in the first place. He would have to remind himself to thank him again later.
The suit was a sort of dull white color, nothing remarkable. But then, it hadn't been designed for fashion. There had been a Cornerian logo on the helmet, but that had been removed since Fox technically wasn't associated with Corneria, or at least not the army. He liked being freelance. The suit had a light armor plating, not thick enough to stop a blaster shot from point blank or some well aimed rifle blasts, but enough to keep him protected from minor injuries and deflect some weapons fire. It certainly was better than wearing nothing. The helm had a visor that came down with a push of a button, sealing around the head automatically when it detected a vacuum. Not only that, but it was equipped with a few sensors and bio-scanners that would help the others keep track of him in case something happened, with a visual display of his current status, such as how fast his heart was beating, his breathing regularity, even a scan of his organs and other parts of his body, displaying an exact image of any injury he had sustained, where it was and how bad. It had an oxygen tank that would automatically refill when in an environment with breathable air, a number of filters to deal with potential toxins. All this and more.
But of course, then there was his favorite part of the whole thing, and arguably the simplest. The holster for his blaster. He couldn't help but smirk once he fitted his weapon in there. Gave him a sense of comfort, security.
Now he was ready.
With the push of a button, there was a hiss as his cockpit popped open. He had to give it a little nudge for it to go all the way, then just gave a light push against the floor with his boot, propelling himself upwards. No gravity. Before he got too far up, he reached down and grabbed hold of the edge of the cockpit, tugging his way downward until his feet were on solid ground. Once he was settled (And he was sure he wasn't going to fall off the platform), he reached down for his boots. One other feature that was nice for situations like this, the boots could become magnetic, allowing him to walk along any surface in an otherwise weightless environment. Well, technically, they were more than just magnetic, as not every surface had metal in it, but it still managed to work. Something about fields and pulls and...whatever. Slippy was the tech junkie, not him.
Now that his feet were firmly (more or less) upon the ground, it was time to get started. He tapped a button on his wrist, eliciting a faint beep as his communications system started up. "Alright, I've exited the Arwing and I'm in the hangar. I'm going to look around a bit."
"Don't go far, Fox." Krystal's voice came over the comm. He couldn't get a read on her from her voice. She didn't sound agitated or angry, but didn't sound entirely pleased either. Still, he had to get moving. And he'd been in worse scrapes than this. It would work out in the end. He hoped.
"Don't worry. I'll be careful." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he focused. These people needed his help. And maybe...Fara needed his help too. And he'd be damned if he wasn't there for them. But he'd keep his promise to Krystal as well. Nothing too crazy. And with that, he was off.
The hangar was big, and it took a while to traverse its length. The process was extended by the boots, as there was a bit of resistance whenever he moved, causing him to move slower than he otherwise would have. But it did give him time to further analyze the environment he now found himself in.
He didn't know what happened here, but whatever it was wasn't good. There were wrecked chunks of ships and interceptors floating about the room. Little bits of debris occasionally floated past him, slowly making their way across the hangar, where they would gently bounce against one wall before reversing their trajectory. At one point, the burned out husk of a small fighter drifted past him, forcing him to stop as it made its way across the catwalk. Some of the ships were mostly intact, while others were in pieces.
The room was designed with two large catwalks that went from the platform around the airlock to the rest of the room. Off to either side of each catwalk were landing pads, some of them evidently designed for smaller vessels and others designed for bigger ones, based on the size of the pads. Large mechanical arms were around some of the docking pads, presumably to run some sort of maintenance on any ships that were docked, perhaps repairs and such. They'd never had anything like that on the Great Fox, all of their work had to be done by hand, but he'd seen their like on Corneria. Expensive stuff. These ones, however, didn't seem to be working. Most of them were dead, hanging limp or bent at odd angles and seemed nonfunctional. Some were sending out a shower of sparks, twitching occasionally. And a few weren't even connected to the pads any more, severed and drifting through the hangar.
Aside from the ruined ships, there wasn't much else to see. It was a massive docking bay, this was true, but other than the size, it didn't differ all that much from a regular bay. A little fancier with some very high tech equipment, perhaps. But nothing more, near as he could tell.
"Gonna be tough for you to dock in here, Krystal." Fox spoke over the comm again.
"I'll manage." Came her reply.
"Yeah...well, I'm going to see if I can make it easier. They might have some kind of backup systems nearby." He was at the airlock now. He studied the panel. For a moment, he was worried he would have to cut or blast his way in, as it seemed quite lifeless. At least, it seemed such until he waved his hand in front of the thing. A green light flickered, blinking off and on. He continued to speak over the comms. "If I can get gravity restored, most of the debris will fall, clearing a path."
There was a silence. He knew that she was giving the matter a great deal of thought. His hand hovered over the panel, ready to press down on the button. He wanted to proceed, but he would at least wait for her response first. And then it came. "Alright, Fox. The Arwing is almost ready. I'll be on my way soon. I'll wait for you to restore power to the hangar before I dock."
He nodded, then turned his attention back to the door panel. "Here goes nothing," he mumbled to himself, then pressed his thumb against the panel. There was a little electrical chirp, and he could hear the sound of gears turning, metal shifting. He took a step back as the door groaned, unsealing itself, machinery whirring as it started to unlatch and slide open.
There was a feeling growing inside him, one he struggled to put to words. It was like...a sense of finality. Up to and including this moment, he knew that he could walk away from this. They could have chosen not to board at all, signaling for a larger, better equipped rescue vessel to take care of things. He could have secured the perimeter and just waited. He could have turned around before flying inside and rejoined Krystal. There were so many moments in which he could have backed off, and even now he still could.
Even now he wondered if it was ever really a choice? There was only one thing that Fox McCloud truly knew about himself, one thing that he could still be certain of. He was getting tired, sure. He was aging, not the young ace pilot he once was (Still ace, just not as young). He had lost friends. He had lost family. But there was one thing that he would not change, and he would do everything in his power to make sure it never did. It was the reason why he was here, the reason he had to go ahead. The reason he had to find Fara. The reason behind every decision he had made since...he couldn't even remember how long.
The reason was quite simplistic. It was the right thing to do. And right now...the right thing was finding Fara and making sure she was okay. He owed her that much and more.
He stepped into the airlock, his sense of purpose once more finding him resolute. He found the panel on the other side and pressed it, and there was a hiss as the doors behind him began to close. And somehow, deep down, he knew. He knew that whatever dangers he might face, whatever horrors lurked ahead, whatever challenges lay in his path...there was no turning back now.
"I'm coming, Fara." Fox murmured. Then the door sealed behind him.