The airlock hissed open, once more allowing Fox into the massive vessel known as the Von Dross. But Fox didn't react to the opening door, didn't even move. He just sat where he was, trying to contact his team.
"Krystal? Slippy? Falco? Anybody reading me? Anybody at all? Come in!"
There was nothing but static in response. He didn't know if the ship had gone out of range, if there was interference from the planet or even the ship itself, or if the enemy was jamming their signal. Maybe it was all three. In the end, it didn't really matter. The result was the same. Here he was, trapped on the very vessel he was supposed to be mounting a rescue mission for. He sighed heavily before picking himself up, standing and turning around to get on with the mission.
This was not a good day.
The emergency lights were still flashing, the lock down still in place. And now he was out of contact with the Great Fox, so he was on his own. He'd have to deal with this himself. He remembered the device that he'd retrieved from the deceased security guard in the restroom. He pulled it from his pocket, then approached the security desk.
He had no idea how he was supposed to use this thing. And for all he knew, if the device required some sort of security clearance, he might not able to proceed without some sort of identity confirmation, perhaps a physical scan. And he really didn't care for the idea of finding the guard's corpse and dragging it over here for a facial scan or fingerprint identification. He wasn't even sure that would work in the first place.
When he found the security panel, he had to study it for a few moments. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do, he didn't remember Slippy covering the specifics, just what he needed to retrieve. What was he supposed to do again? He fiddled with his new device for a while, pressing various buttons that didn't seem to do much. The screen flashed and displayed a bit of information about the model and year it was made. Another button brought up a little map of the deck he was on, so that was useful. Assuming he could lift the lock down, that is.
He pressed another button on the thing, then jolted backward when the screen flashed. But instead of information appearing on the screen, a three dimensional projection was created in front of Fox, emanating from the device that he was interacting with. He raised one of his hands, gently swiping at the projection, his fingers harmlessly passing through it. But his movement did accomplish something. The projection shifted a bit as he "touched" it, the screen shifting as though he had somehow manipulated it. So, he thought, something like a touch screen, only it can be projected and controlled with hand movements.
While this was all very fascinating, it didn't seem to bring him any closer to finding a way out of here. Still, he swiped at the projection a few times, hoping to get something useful out of it.
At last he found something. A number of pass codes, security levels, and clearances were displayed on the holo projection now. He studied them closely, looking through what he could see. It appeared that he had level D access with this device. That seemed to be just above the lowest rank, so he had a bit more freedom than if he'd found a regular crew member's card, but not as much as a higher ranked security guard or what one of ship's officers might have. He hoped it would be enough.
This was all well and good, but how was he supposed to make use of this? The thing didn't come with a security card, at least not that he could tell. Maybe he was supposed to press a button on the device, but he wasn't having much luck with that. And while he had found where all of the security clearances were listed, it said nothing of how to use said clearance, merely that he had it. His examination of the security panel was no more enlightening. There were a number of buttons which seemed to do absolutely nothing, and there was a dark rectangular surface right in the center of it that didn't seem to do anything. It couldn't just be for decoration, that wouldn't make any sense. He shook his head, grumbling to himself. He hated this kind of thing.
A thought came to him. He raised the device for a moment, studying it closely. He reached for the switch that he thought would turn off the three dimensional display. The first one he pressed just made the entire screen go dark, but the second one worked, leaving the device active but the projection removed. He took a deep breath, then held the device in front of the security panel. It was a long shot, but...
He blinked when the panel lit up, and a thin red laser went up and down the box. And then a mechanical, emotionless voice rang out, presumably from the ship's PA system. It had an accent, a faint one that sounded something like Krystal's. "Lockdown in Hangar Bay 2A has been lifted. All normal traffic may resume. We apologize for the former inconvenience. Please follow standard protocol regarding lockdown release."
The effect was immediate. The emergency lights turned off, regular power was restored, and the halls were once again bathed in the natural light of the ship. He could hear the large security shutters lifting, freeing him to explore the rest of the ship at his leisure. So that voice was right, whoever that was. The lockdown was lifted.
That being said, whoever that was on the PA system had just announced it, and there was no telling how many aboard were now aware of his presence. He had no idea if that announcement would just be heard on this area, on this deck, or the entire ship. If there was anyone listening out there, they'd know exactly where he was, and that someone was still alive in this sector. It could mean a survivor might head his way. Maybe even Fara, if she was nearby.
But it could also mean an enemy. If someone or something had invaded this ship, they may now be aware of Fox's presence. And even if they didn't, it was possible that the crew of this ship would consider him a hostile invader regardless. He had no idea what the reception would be from anyone that might be present. He'd have to be cautious going forward. He kept his blaster in its holster, but it was still at the ready. He was a quick draw, and he'd be able to pull it out in time if something were to happen.
Now that he could actually see, he was able to get a better feel for his surroundings. The hallway was white, pristine. Sterile, even. It mostly seemed to be in good condition, showing little of the damage that Fox had seen on the outer hull of the ship. Maybe the lockdown had kept this part mostly intact, or maybe the damage wasn't as bad as it looked on the outside. Either way, the place looked fine. A couple of the lights flickered, but he assumed that to be a simple maintenance problem
There wasn't much in the way of decoration, though he could now see a couple of holo-art pieces on the wall, images that changed occasionally, now powered on with the removal of the lockdown. Nothing extraordinary, mostly just images of space with some "inspiring" words to motivate whoever worked here, like "reach for the stars," "sometimes we just need a different point of view," and things like that. There were a few vents he could see more clearly now, but they were out of reach. Besides, he wasn't about to go crawling into a vent for no reason. Not without a better knowledge of the ship's layout. And a very good reason to crawl into a vent.
There wasn't much more to see beyond what he had noticed earlier. Spilled plants, holo-magazines on the floor, an abandoned security post. Not much else. There was no sense in wasting further time. He had a job to do. He needed to find a way to contact the Great Fox. He also had the objective of rescuing any survivors he might come across. And finally, he still intended to investigate whatever had happened on this ship and correcting it if possible.
He wasn't entirely sure where to start, to be honest. He needed to figure out what was going on first and foremost. Best chance of that, he supposed, was either finding a survivor or finding the A.I.
Once again, Fox found himself in front of the airlock door, but he wasn't planning on going inside this time. He now had a choice. Left or right? To the right were the restrooms, where he had already been. There was a security shutter there, but that one had been severely damaged by explosives. On the one hand, that meant there were signs of life over there. On the other hand, that life might take issue with Fox's presence. And he wasn't keen to walk into the barrel of a rocket launcher.
But what if it were the crew? What if they needed to get in the docking bay and couldn't? Maybe they tried to blow a hole into it in order to escape. Or maybe there had just been a serious firefight out there and the blown gate was just collateral damage.
He could think about these possibilities and muse over what to do for forever, but now he needed to act. So he made his choice. With his blaster drawn and holding it up by the side of his head, he marched down the corridor that held the damaged grating. He wondered for a moment if perhaps the thing had been damaged so much that it wouldn't open, but lucky for him, that wasn't a problem. The shutter was gone, having been raised back up and giving him a clear path forward.
He paused before setting foot beyond the corridor, thinking this might be a good time to check the map that he had. He tried to duplicate what he had done earlier, and sure enough the map eventually came up. It was a holographic display, all in blue coloring with flashing bits and symbols to represent where everything was. The PA system had said something about Hangar Bay 2A, so he was somewhere in that vicinity. Sure enough, his location was flashing on the screen. It didn't show his precise position, merely the fact that he was in the general area.
He took a few moments to study the map that he now had in his possession. This was a big deck, though it looked like it was primarily used for docking bays and hangars. There were other other facilities present, but they appeared to be for the express purpose of servicing whoever might be working on this deck. Cafeteria, restrooms, lounges, things like that. Nothing that really caught his interest.
Probably the most interesting part of the map was the central elevator (Or elevators), which he presumed went to the other decks on the ship. He tried to pull up a map for those, but the data on this one was incomplete. Either it was damaged or the security guard only had a map for the deck he worked on and nothing more. Either was possible.
He could sure use Slippy's help right now. The frog might not be much good in a fight, but he was very useful with data analysis, maps, and general support. Krystal would be equally useful, she had a good head for these kinds of things. But that wasn't an option. So what should he do?
He supposed his best bet was try to re-establish contact with the Great Fox. After all, he could rescue the entire crew and it wouldn't make a bit of difference if they were all trapped here anyway. Contacting his team would need to be the first priority, and maybe he could find some survivors and learn what happened here on the way. Or maybe he'd run into an enemy and there would be a fight. There was no way to know. Either way, it didn't seem as though the flight deck was the best place to be in order to accomplish anything. He'd need to find something else. Communications, perhaps? Would they have a whole deck dedicated to that, or...?
One way or the other, he planned to find out. For now, no other direction to go but forward. And he'd have to be careful on his way to the elevator. No telling what might be waiting for him. It was time to go.
The hallway before him was dark, not as brightly illuminated as the area he had just come from. There were no flashing emergency lights or anything like that, so the place wasn't in lockdown. The lights were just out. He once again activated his helmet-light, letting him see what was there.
This time his discovery was a little more ominous. Blaster fire for one, scorch marks on the wall and floor. There had been a fight here, of that there was no doubt. But there was something of far more troubling portent. Fox took a few steps forward, then knelt down in order to place his fingers against a dark substance smeared on the ground, holding it in front of his helmet to get a better look at it. His fears were confirmed. Blood.
Something bad had happened here. No bodies, though. So either they survived the exchange or something had taken the bodies away. And judging from the blood trails that led away from Fox, down the very direction he intended to go, it seemed most likely that someone had dragged the bodies away.
Nasty business. And it only served to further alarm Fox. He kept his hand on his blaster as he rose up. He might need it sooner rather than later.
Alright, he thought to himself. Just keep moving, Fox. Get to the elevator. Get to the communications equipment. Contact Great Fox. You got this. Keep moving.
Keeping his eyes on his surroundings, Fox moved forward, doing his best to keep his footsteps subdued and quiet. Yet every step he took felt like it rang throughout the entire ship, so loud against the metal floor. It didn't matter how careful or quiet he tried to be. Of course, Fox had never been much for stealth in the first place, but this suit he was wearing made it even more awkward.
It was going okay so far. His progress was slow, but steady. He wasn't about to rush into anything like an idiot. Slow and steady, Fox. Slow and steady. He kept telling himself these things over and over again. The encroaching darkness made him more than a little apprehensive. Only the light attached to his space suit provided any illumination, and it felt so woefully inadequate, so scant. He felt as though someone was watching him, like something might be creeping behind him from the shadows. It was unnerving, seeing the hallway so empty, so dark.
Worse than that, the corridor was not entirely empty. Everywhere he looked, he saw some trace of the horror that happened here. Blood that had pooled on the floor, smeared on the walls. Scorch marks. Bullet holes. But no bodies. His breathing became a little heavier, and he swallowed hard. He was struggling not to think about what horrors awaited him. He was beginning to suspect the situation he found himself in was far worse that had ever before imagined.
Eventually, the wall to his left gave way into a viewing port, a glass-like material that allowed him to see the stars. There was a viewing panel on his left, and it seemed to have controls to open and close the shutters of the hallway he was in, allowing one to view the vastness of space. Some of that cold starlight was filtering through, causing a faint bluish light to illuminate just a small portion of the corridor. In any other circumstance, it might have been beautiful. Unfortunately, he had to move on. By the time he made it to the end of the corridor, he was once more in the darkness of the hallway.
He came to a sudden stop just as he was about to round a corner, withdrawing his blaster and taking a quiet breath. He was almost sure he had heard something. He pressed against the wall, his ears flitting upward, paying close attention. He waited.
There it was again! It was faint, but he also got the sense that it was close. A whirring noise, the sound of machinery. No footsteps, no speech. Just that whirring sound. He wasn't sure what it was. He'd have to get a look.
Matters were not helped by the fact that he was basically in total darkness here, with only the flashlight providing any real light. And if there was something nearby, they might see that light. If it was a machine, perhaps it wouldn't notice or register it. Or maybe it would. Whatever was there hadn't reacted to his presence so far. But if he took a look, there was no way he could see anything unless he kept his light on. Though frustrated with the limited options he seemed to possess, he prepared for what was to come next. He pressed his back against the wall, inching toward the corner, taking a few deep breaths before repositioning himself, peeking his head around the corner and trying to get a view of what was making that noise.
He didn't see anything at first, nothing at all. It was just another empty corridor. This ship seemed to be full of them. Lots of wasted space, he thought. Maybe whatever was making that sound was further ahead, maybe he had to get closer.
He heard the whirring sound again, and then a clicking noise. It was only now that he was able to ascertain where the sound was coming from. It was above. He tilted his head, looking up at the ceiling.
That's when he spotted it. Some sort of security camera. It was attached to the wall, almost touching the ceiling from where it was mounted. The sound had been coming from it. The camera made a noise every time it turned in order to monitor the hallway. And now it was looking right at him!
His heart nearly stopped as he found himself face to face with the security device. And for an all too brief moment, he wondered if perhaps it hadn't seen him. He reacted almost immediately, ducking behind the wall again, praying that perhaps his little peek had gone unnoticed. Such hopes were dashed almost immediately upon forming them. The area was bathed in red emergency lighting, and a familiar voice rang out over the ship's PA system, the very same voice that announced the lifted lockdown. "Intruder alert in Deck 6! All available security personnel, please report to Deck 6 immediately."
So much for being subtle. Not that he wasn't used to this. This was how their missions usually went. Star Fox had never been great at stealth.
He assumed the speaker was done, or at the very least, it would simply repeat the message a few times before someone turned it off or something. He was taken quite by surprise when the voice addressed him directly, the voice cold and somehow trying to emulate warmth. It was unsettling. "Attention intruder. The Many demands to know your intentions. Are you working for her? Why would you assist the enemy? Are you unaware of their history? Of who created them?" The voice paused for a moment, then repeated the former message. "Intruder alert on Deck 6."
He had no idea what that voice was talking about, but somehow Fox got the very strong impression that standing here and waiting for whoever was responding to the intruder alert would be a very, very bad idea. He wasn't sure what was coming, but it couldn't be anything good.
Fox started moving quickly now, hoping to find a way to the elevators before anyone caught him. He sprinted past the security camera, which emitted that same whirring sound as it tracked his movements down the corridor. He half expected the voice to give more specific directions on his location, but there was no such thing. Just flashing lights and a dull, persistent alarm that sounded in the background. His heavy footfalls sounded as thunder to Fox's ears, as if to alert everyone on the deck to his presence. But he didn't have a choice. He needed to get out of here, and he needed to do it now.
After rounding another corner, he found himself in sight of one of the elevators. But he wasn't alone. Someone else was standing in front of the doors. He wasn't able to ascertain exactly what he was facing, but the individual appeared to be a canine of some sort. His back was to him, and he was carrying something in his hand, lowered to his right side, almost scraping the floor with whatever it was. It was...a pipe, maybe? A wrench? Some kind of tool?
Whatever he was, the person slowly turned around when he sensed Fox's approach. Fox skidded to a halt, holding up his blaster, leveling it at the man before speaking. "This is Fox McCloud of the Star Fox team, I'm here to answer a distress call. I'm not looking for trouble, I'm here to help."
No response. The man stared at Fox blankly for a moment, tilting his head. And when he did finally speak, Fox's mouth dropped open in a mixture of surprise and shock. The voice sounded distorted, as though there were multiple people talking at once. It changed in pitch and tone erratically, moving up and down. It was unnatural and more than a little unsettling. But if the tone of his words were off-putting, the words themselves were worse. "You...are not...one of us..."
Fox blinked at the words, not entirely sure how to take them. "I'm not a member of the crew, no. I'm with the rescue team."
"Not one of us..." The man repeated. He then took a step toward Fox. That was definitely a large metal pipe in his hand. He had raised it by now, brandishing it as if to use as a weapon. "You bring...discord..." There was another pause. Then it spoke, it's voice lowering in pitch, deep and menacing. "Die...die...DIE!" With that, it charged him.
Fox tried reasoning with the canine before he got too close. If it was a member of the crew, Fox didn't want to hurt him! "This is a rescue mission, we're here to help you! Stand down!"
The attacker ignored him, just screaming as he charged. The sound was strange, as though there were more than one person screaming at the same time in a sort of chilling harmony that made Fox shiver.
He didn't really have the chance to think things over or consider his next course of action. He wasn't able to ponder over who the assailant might be or what he wanted, if he was a member of the crew or an invader. He barely got a look at him at all, just enough of one to determine that it was a canine, possibly Cornerian, before he charged. There was no time for anything but to act on raw instinct. And whoever this attacker was, he had made it clear that he intended bodily harm. This left Fox with little choice.
He raised his blaster, took the half-second to line up a shot, then fired, the powerful laser blast catching the man squarely in the chest. The assailant staggered, but did not go down. He just growled and then roared as he charged again. Fox fired, once again targeting his chest, giving him a clean shot. On anyone else, that should have been a kill. But against this guy, it did little more than stagger him. "We are STRONG!" The canine roared as he charged again. Fox leveled his blaster, closed one eye as he aimed down the sight, then squeezed the trigger. The bolt of energy went precisely where he wanted it to, right between the eyes. At last, he seemed to have an effect. The man groaned, his voice distorted, then crumpled to his knees, his eyes rolling up as he succumbed to his wounds.
Fox stared at the corpse for a few moments, his blaster still leveled at the body before taking a cautious step toward him. Now that the danger had passed, it was time for him to get some answers, or at least what little he could. He knelt beside the corpse, casting a discerning eye over its form.
The man, who was indeed of canine origin, was now lying face down on the floor. The first thing that struck Fox was the odd protrusion at the base of the dog's neck, something slimy and long was burrowed inside of him and wrapped around his head. It looked like some kind of worm, a rather large one at that. Fox gingerly touched the man's side, then rolled him over so he could look at him face to face.
He was met with a rather disturbing and disgusting sight, eliciting a gasp from the fox. While from the back the man looked relatively normal apart from whatever it was that was latched to the base of his skull, from the front he looked considerably more disturbing. The worm was large and fat, wrapped around his neck and attached to his upper chest. But even worse than that, the man's chest cavity had...parted somehow. In the area around where the worm had burrowed in, the flesh had given way, revealing the red mass of blood, muscle, and organ that lay beneath. Even the face was grotesque. Much of the fur and flesh around mouth and eyes seemed to have dissolved or melted away, revealing the bloody muscle and even bits of bone that lay underneath. The eyes were sunken in and staring at nothing, so empty and cold.
So many questions filled Fox's mind. Who was he? How had the man been walking in this condition? Why had he attacked immediately? Was everyone on board like this, was it just a few? Was this why the deck had been under lockdown? And the question most prevalent in his mind, what the heck happened to this guy?
He looked over the corpse over for a few more moments in a final bid to get some answers, answers that he knew wouldn't come. There was nothing on the body indicating who the person was or why he was there. It was the first sign of life Fox had seen on this ship so far, and it had immediately tried to kill him. His uniform was torn and bloodied, and it simply didn't offer him enough information.
There was already a part of him regretting what he had to do there. He knew it was necessary. Anyone trained in firearms was instructed never to draw a weapon without an intent to shoot, and you never shoot at someone without intent to kill. Granted, there were always exceptions to that rule. Generally speaking, someone charging you with a weapon while screaming for you to die is not a good time to go for the non-lethal approach, unless Fox wanted to get himself wounded or worse.
Fox decided to check the body for any form of identification. It would be nice to get an idea of who this was. Unfortunately, after rummaging around the body and rifling his pockets, he couldn't find anything of use on him. No keycards, no ID, no weapons aside from the pipe. And Fox didn't see any particular reason to pick that up. His blaster would be just fine.
His ears flitted as he heard the sound of heavy footfalls from just ahead, the same direction his assailant had come from. He stared in that direction as they drew closer. He was listening for them, trying to determine what he could just from the sound alone. It wasn't just one person. It was several. And if they were anything like this guy...
He had to get out of here. He rose to his feet and took a few cautious steps back. And then he realized that there were more sounds coming from all around him. Footfalls from other corridors, all leading to this one. He was surrounded. And by the sound of things, there were a -lot- of them coming.
There was only one choice now. The elevator.
He sprinted toward the elevator door, slamming his fist against the switch. It lit up, and then a number appeared on the little panel above the elevator door, showing the elevator's position relative to him. It was not nearly close enough. This was going to be a fight.
He pulled out his blaster and leveled it at the corridor, waiting for them to come to him. He couldn't hear any of the sounds they were making, aside from the footfalls of their boots striking the cold metal of the ship. There was a possibility that it was the security team answering the intruder alert. But somehow he didn't think that was the case. And even if it were, would it really make much of a difference? They might be as hostile as the thing he had just faced.
He wouldn't have to wonder long. As one of the creatures rounded the corner, he immediately recognized it to be similar in nature to the one he had just shot. It had its own distinctions, of course. This one was not a dog, it was a bird of some kind, green feathered and carrying a wrench. He didn't have a clear look at it, but he suspected it too had that worm attached to its head. It spoke as it charged, the voice distorted, sounding like one in a choir of many as it screamed, "JOIN US!"
Fox was good enough to offer the new assailant a warning. "Back off or I'll shoot!" It was a warning that he knew full well would be ignored. The bird didn't even slow in its charge, just brandished its weapon menacingly as it barreled toward him full tilt. Fox had no choice. He aimed, then fired. Once again, the blaster bolt found its mark, a direct hit, this time in the flank. But it didn't slow the attacker down. Aside from a pained groan emitted from the thing on being struck, it barely even seemed to register the hit. So Fox fired again and again.
The bird refused to go down. He just kept coming, getting closer and closer. And as he approached, two more rounded the corner to join their fellow, an ape and a cat. "Great," he muttered, then continued firing. Bolt after bolt of energy pierced the bird, and at last he stumbled to the floor, his now lifeless body sliding towards Fox, almost colliding with him before it finally came to a stop. Fox didn't have time to make sure that he was dead. He had to keep shooting at the other two that were approaching. He was more careful with his aim this time, squeezing one eye shut and taking a deep breath as he concentrated on his shot. His next shot at the rapidly approaching ape caught it right square in the forehead, the creature eliciting a shriek of pain as it stumbled forward and collapsed.
At least they weren't using proper weapons, Fox thought to himself. He'd be able to hold his own against enemies like this if they didn't have any guns. He would just take his time to aim, and...
BANG!
His brain hadn't even registered the sound of the gunshot before he was sent reeling. It wasn't a direct hit, but he had been clipped right in the shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain. He stumbled backward against the elevator door. A soft automated warning voice informed him of what he already knew. "Warning, this suit has been punctured. Minor damage detected. Administering automatic treatment."
Well, the suit was good for something. It was pumping some kind of painkiller into him, which he needed. It allowed him to raise his arm freely without any trouble and take a couple of shots at his assailant.
Curiously enough, they did not attempt to dodge or even find cover. They just continued to charge, waving their weapon all the while. It really wasn't hard for Fox to score a couple of good hits against the cat's torso. The weapon dropped from his hands, and the cat-man crumpled up, going still as he fell to the floor.
Fox breathed a relieved sigh, then turned toward the elevator. He had a better look at it now, was able to pay a bit more attention to the way it was laid out. The panel listed all the places it could go, including its current location. For some reason, the elevator had stopped in Deck 2. He frowned. Was it malfunctioning, or was someone else using it? It did eventually start moving again. Deck 3 now.
Why had it taken so long? For all he knew, it might be a trap. With the warning that the earlier PA speaker gave, it could well be that reinforcements were incoming. And he doubted very much that this was the only elevator to this deck. There would be others coming from somewhere or other. He was sure of it.
Reaching for the spot where he'd been clipped, he found the suit singed, and with a puncture in the material. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to use it as protection in a vacuum right now. Too bad all of their equipment was on the Great Fox and he was stuck here. He wouldn't be able to repair it on his own.
Fortunately, even though he had been hit, the shot didn't do much damage to him. Just a bit of singed fur under the hole in his suit, nothing too bad. He was lucky there. He turned his arm and tried to get a better look at the where he'd been shot. If they had been more accurate, he would be in a bad way and how. He cursed his own lack of awareness. He couldn't afford to be caught off guard again
As if on cue, he heard a low growl from nearby. He looked up only to see one of the crew staring at him, holding a large maintenance wrench in his hand. It was another ape, with one of those long hideous worms attached to the back of his head, wrapped around his neck and lodged deep in his chest cavity. Some of the innards were exposed, the worm having burrowed deep inside him. The ape just stared at Fox for a moment. Where the heck did he come from?! Fox raised his weapon, immediately squeezing off a shot. But as quick as he drew his weapon, the other was faster, slamming his wrench into Fox's hand, knocking the blaster from his grasp, sending it bouncing off of the wall and clattering across the floor. Fox barely had time to recover before the ape swung again, dodging the wrench just in time, hearing it clang loudly against the wall. A quick glance showed a dent made in the surface of the hardened metal, which was no easy feat. This guy was strong.
With a roar, the ape swung again, and Fox managed to backpedal away, rolling away as he attempted to retrieve a backup weapon. He always had one, and in this case it was another blaster strapped to his boot. But before he could seize hold of his weapon, the creature was on him again. Fox had to roll to the side to avoid being hit, narrowly evading the weapon as it slammed into the ground beside him.
In mid roll, he managed to retrieve his emergency blaster, leveling it at the ape. In that brief moment before taking the shot, he noticed the creature's expression. There was no anger or rage or any emotion that he expected to see from the assailant. No hatred. No fury. In fact, the only emotion Fox saw was pain. Even as the enemy lifted his weapon in an attempt to crush Fox's skull, the ape gave an impassioned, pleading cry to the leader of the Star Fox team. "Kill...me!"
In this case, with the fight being so close and fast, Fox didn't really have time to aim his shot carefully, merely fired as soon as his weapon was leveled upon the enemy. He hit him in the chest, which caused the ape to pause for a moment. But not for long. Before Fox could fire again, it swung down at him, catching him in the paw with a vicious swing. Pain exploded from where it connected, and Fox hissed and stumbled backwards. That might have broken some fingers. The weapon was thrust from his grip. Fox tried to put some distance between the two of them, but the thing was too fast. He sensed its movement, tried to duck the blow that he knew was coming. But he was too slow. Something heavy struck him in the side of the head, with enough force to cause the visor in his helmet to crack. The force of the impact caused him to crash into the nearby wall, and he crumpled to the ground in pain. The computer in his suit continued to inform him of what was going on. "Warning. Multiple injuries detected. Helmet damaged, head trauma sustained. Seek immediate medical assistance."
Thanks for the tip, Fox thought. That blow had hit hard, far harder than it should have. He was fighting darkness at the corners of his vision, his eyes blurred. That thing...it was way stronger than it had any right to be. He tried to backpedal away from the ape, scooting backward as fast as he could. His assailant stayed with him, raising its wrench to give him a finishing blow. Fox reached out desperately behind him, hoping to find his blaster with his off-hand. His fingers fell upon the hilt, and he seized hold of it and leveled a shot, just as the creature seemed ready to finish him off. The ape shouted as it brought its weapon down. "DIIIIIIIIIEEEEE!"
There was a flash of energy, the sound of a blaster being discharged. The creature froze, its eyes rolling up before crumpling to its knees. It remained motionless for a while, then fell over backward.
It was dead. But Fox had not been the one to pull trigger. There was a figure standing behind where the dead creature now was, a smoking blaster in their hands. They were covered from head to toe in some kind of protective suit. It looked like what Fox was wearing, only theirs was currently undamaged and looked a little fancier. Getting a read on the person was difficult, as their face was masked by the helmet. There were little purple stripes on the arms, legs, and a couple of markings on the chest-piece of the suit, otherwise a dull gray color.
But he didn't have a lot of time to appreciate the way the stranger was dressed. His vision went blurry again, having been struck on the head harder than he thought. He blinked his eyes, trying to stay conscious before slumping over, darkness threatening to overwhelm his senses. As he fell to his back, he heard the footfalls of the person approaching. One of the last things he saw was the stranger standing over him, regarding him silently before grabbing hold of his arms. He got the sensation of his body being moved, heard and felt his boots dragging across the floor. Whoever the stranger was, they were taking him somewhere. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care about where or why. His mind felt like it had fogged over, and his head hurt terribly. He might have a concussion. He was trying so hard to stay awake, to fight passing out. But he was losing the battle.
Who was the stranger? What was going on? What was going to happen to him? He berated himself for being so careless, struggling so hard to retain consciousness, to recover...but in the end, he couldn't fight it anymore. The darkness encroaching on the corners of his vision soon overwhelmed him. His senses fled, and he knew no more.
All was quiet on the bridge of the Great Fox. The group sat in silence, with the exception of ROB, who was currently at work maintaining the vessel's course, scanning it for damage, regenerating the shields, and running all of the usual routines and other tasks that he performed. His body whirred and clicked, a blur of motion as he did his work.
The others were much less productive. Krystal and Falco hadn't said a word since they limped back to the hangar bay. Their Arwings were both in desperate need of repairs, though he wasn't sure what had been damaged worse, their ships or their spirits. Krystal was standing in front of the viewscreen, staring into space. Slippy was no telepath, but he knew she was upset. They all were. And though she usually kept her thoughts pretty well guarded from the rest of the team, he couldn't help but notice that her tail was lashing violently behind her on a regular basis, betraying her irritation and anger. What Slippy didn't know was who that anger was directed towards. Was it at Fox for getting himself in this situation in the first place? Was it at herself for not being good enough, or maybe not being insistent enough with her doubts? Was it at the whole team, blaming them all for what happened? Or was it the mysterious enemy that had shown up seemingly out of nowhere? Slippy didn't know. And he didn't dare speak up. The tension was too thick. He felt as though if he spoke a word right now, something might break or snap, as though lightning might crackle through the space between them. Of course, such a notion was ridiculous, Krystal had never lashed out at them in such a manner before, but still. He didn't want to put that to the test right now.
Falco was easier to read. Not so much because he was less guarded than Krystal, but more because Slippy knew him longer. He was sitting in his chair, staring down at the floor with his foot tapping harshly against the surface, mumbling to himself. There was a sharp frown on his face, his eyes narrowed as he grumbled. Slippy didn't have to guess what about. Fox was part of it, sure. But most of all? Falco prided himself on being the best. The best pilot in the Lylat System, second only to -maybe- Fox McCloud himself. And Falco got upset whenever he was bested. In fact, he got more than a little irritated even if he ever lost a video game against Slippy. Falco was incredibly competitive and hated losing. Of course, Slippy didn't blame him, nobody liked losing. But some people were more graceful about it than others. Krystal was graceful. Fox was...sometimes graceful. Falco though? He was never graceful in defeat. Or in victory, for that matter. He tended to gloat.
He wasn't gloating now, though. Just staring and tapping that foot, frowning. As the silence continued, Slippy found himself more and more nervous between the two of them. He wished Fox was back here right now. But for the moment, they were separated from him, and they were going to need to figure out what to do. And as much as he hated to be the first to try and cut through the tension, he felt he had no choice. So he cleared his throat and finally managed to speak up. "So, uh...guys? What do we do now?"
There was no immediate answer, all three of the others just continued what they were doing. One of Krystal's ears twitched, so Slippy knew that the vixen had heard him. Falco ignored him, giving no indication that he had even heard Slippy speak. ROB, surprisingly, was the first one to break the silence. "I am currently analyzing available data on the previous battle. Will be sending it to you for in depth analysis soon. Still processing."
Slippy nodded his head at ROB, grateful that at least some semblance of conversation had started. "Oh, that sounds good. Maybe they've got a weakness we can exploit. But, uh, in the meantime..." He glanced once more at his companions, mashing his upper lip over his lower one in a nervous gesture. He looked at the others, hoping they might speak, maybe one of them had some ideas.
Silence.
With a sigh, Slippy turned back to his console. He was guiding the ship further and further away from the Von Dross. It wasn't that they were running, not exactly. But they had to get a signal to Corneria. They needed advice, or at the very least some additional information of what they were up against. Unfortunately, the signal had been jammed, and he wasn't sure where the jam was coming from. It was probably the enemy vessel, but it might have been the Von Dross itself. It didn't matter. The jamming signal grew weaker the more distance they placed between themselves and the site of their most recent battle.
"Got it!" Slippy announced. He looked up at the others with a triumphant grin. "I got a signal! I'm contacting Corneria now!"
Krystal remained facing away from the group. Were it not for the fact that she gave a faint nod, Slippy might have thought she wasn't paying attention at all. She kept her paws clasped behind her back as she gazed through the viewport. Falco remained as he was, though at least he had stopped muttering by now.
Slippy sent the transmission through, hoping that they'd get a response soon. He didn't like leaving Fox in the lurch like this. They needed to get back as soon as possible. And if they didn't hear from Corneria quickly, they might just have to go back for Fox anyway, regardless of getting any help. They couldn't just sit idle forever. Not with so much at stake.
"How long you think this is gonna take?" Falco asked, the first words addressed to either of them since they were forced to retreat.
"Oh, uh..." Slippy blinked, then shrugged his shoulders. "I mean...I dunno, it depends on how busy they are and such. They've got a lot on their hands ever since the Aparoid invasion ended. I mean, if we're lucky it might just be a few minutes. But it could be hours. If we hear back from them at all. I think we better be prepared to wait. And while we do that..." Slippy paused, then placed his fist in front of his mouth as he cleared his throat."So..." Slippy began. He was about to ask the same question he'd already asked before, multiple times. But he still thought it needed to be answered. "What do we do now?"
Falco leaned back in his chair. "I dunno. I guess we gotta decide on a course of action. I mean...what are our options, anyway?"
"We could try to rescue Fox, get him off that ship." Krystal offered this suggestion first.
Falco kept his eyes closed. "Yeah. That's not a bad idea, I'd like to do that. But that comes with its own problems." He held up his hand, started counting off with his fingers as he proceeded to list the problems. His voice came across as rather frustrated, though Slippy suspected that was directed at the situation they found themselves in rather than at any of them in particular. "First, we have to manage the rescue while dealing with the enemy vessel, which I guarantee you will attack again if we get anywhere close to them." He placed his free hand against his head, rubbing his eyes before continuing. "Second of all, even if somehow we could avoid that enemy ship, we'd have to find a place to land. We know a little more about the layout now, but we don't where Fox is or how to get him out. We don't even know if we can communicate with him. And there's no way we're using that same hangar he did." He stretched out his third digit as he made his next point. "And finally, even if we could get past all those things, pulling him out would would mean abandoning the rescue mission, and he's not gonna like that."
Krystal had grown quiet and withdrawn as Falco spoke, and Slippy wasn't sure she was even listening. In an effort to keep the conversation going, he started to speak. "Well we gotta do something! We just gotta!"
"I'm not saying we do nothing!" Falco snapped at Slippy. "I'm saying we need to figure out what -to- do!"
Slippy blinked, not at all pleased with Falco's tone. He narrowed his eyes and protested, "That's what -I- am saying! It's the same thing!"
"I -know- that!" Falco growled at him now, his voice dripping with barely restrained fury. "You keep asking us what to do, we ALL want to know that! You're not helping by asking over and over and over again!"
"Well at least I'm trying to be productive!" Slippy was shouting at the bird now, just as mad as Falco was, not even pausing to think of how confusing and ridiculous their conversation might seem.
"Hey, you want to go out and take that ship on yourself, by all means, you just be my guest."
"Falco..." Krystal's voice was soft but strained. "That's not what he meant. Calm yourself. Both of you. You are acting like children."
"He started it!" Slippy pointed at Falco with a glare. Falco matched him glare for glare, and they both looked like they were ready to come to blows right about now.
Krystal simply rolled her eyes before continuing. "Calm yourselves. We're all on the same side. How does any of this help Fox?"
The two men glowered at each other through narrowed eyes, neither of them wanting to back down. Falco had his arms folded across his chest, scowling. Slippy wasn't to be intimidated, glaring right back at Falco.
It was at this precise moment that a loud beeping noise was produced from Slippy's console.
"Hey Star Fox. This is Peppy. How y'all doin'?" A familiar voice came over the communicator, and Slippy couldn't help but grin at hearing their old friend once more. The tension in the room melted, and both Falco and Slippy seemed to relax. With the touch of a button, the aging rabbit appeared on their screen. He had a tired smile on his face, with the backdrop of Cornerian Command behind him, a few personnel working at their stations. He was dressed differently now, no longer wearing the somewhat casual attire he once had while on the Great Fox. Now he was in a proper military uniform, though for some reason Slippy couldn't help but feel it didn't quite suit him. Like the old hare belonged in something other than a uniform. He couldn't really explain why. Maybe it was just how Slippy remembered him.
"Good to hear from you Peppy!" Slippy spoke with enthusiasm and excitement. He'd always liked the hare. He was a good fellow. He had enjoyed ribbing Slippy a bit just like the rest of the team had in the past whenever he messed up (Usually when in a dog fight), but overall he was gentle natured and wise. "How's life treating you? I hear you're a general now!"
"Yeah." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Trust me Slippy, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Lots of paperwork, lots of reports, lots of decisions that aren't particularly exciting or dangerous."
"Bet you wish you were back out here with us, huh?" Slippy grinned.
"Nah, I'm good. This is the kind of life I've wanted for a while now. Lots to do, but I'm not at the front lines, just advising and keeping things in order. I'm still useful."
"How's Pepper?" Slippy inquired politely.
"Oh, he's a tough old hound. Too stubborn to die." Peppy closed his eyes and smiled faintly. "Actually, just stubborn in general. He insists on helping where he can, won't spend the rest of his days in bed." The smile faded as he continued. "He's recovering pretty slowly. He insists that he's not returning to active duty, but he spends almost every moment he can here in Command, ignoring his doctors. He's offering me all kinds of advice." He chuckled again. "It's sort of funny in a way, usually I'm the one doing that."
There was a snort from Falco, but Slippy ignored it. The frog was going to say something more, continue the conversation when Falco interrupted. "Don't mean to be rude, but we sorta got more important things to talk about right now."
Slippy sighed, frustrated, but ultimately nodded his head. Peppy arched an eyebrow before responding. "I figured. Whenever I hear from you now, it's rarely a social call. Not that I blame you. I know how it is. I think we've both been busy." For a moment, Peppy looked a little saddened. And if Slippy guessed correctly, he knew why. And he agreed. It was sad that the old days had passed. They didn't really see each other as they once had. They kept in touch, mostly, but their contacts were few and far between. As integral a part of Star Fox as Peppy had been, he now led a very separate life, and it just wasn't the same without him. They both missed each other.
Peppy was the one to continue. "Well, we received your message. And what you've reported is...well...disturbing."
"About Fox?" Slippy asked.
Peppy shook his head. "Yes and no. Fox can handle himself, I'm sure he'll be fine. You're Star Fox, you always pull through. You always will. But this might be a tough mission."
"Yeah?" Falco arched an eyebrow. "We kinda figured that out for ourselves."
"Oh, almost forgot, it's good to see you too, Falco." Peppy gave Falco a warm smile. Despite his frustration at the current situation, Falco did manage to give a little nod in return. Slippy doubted that the bird would ever admit this, but he was certain that Falco missed Peppy too. Peppy then turned his head a bit and offered Krystal a smile. "And you as well, Krystal. Glad you're there to take care of the boys."
She offered a wry smile herself. "Yes. And...perhaps not doing as well as I ought to."
Peppy scoffed, shaking his head. "Nonsense. You're dealing with an impossible situation. I know how stubborn this lot can be. Fox and Falco in particular." He looked directly at Falco as he said this, smirking. The bird just shook his head and mumbled something inaudible to himself. "Anyway, we got your message. Guess we should get down to business, huh?"
"Yes." Krystal approached the screen, keeping her gaze locked on Peppy. "We're quite concerned over the immediate circumstances. We could use any advice or information you may possess."
"Alright, the first news I got is the report of the Von Dross." Peppy leaned back in his chair, hands clasped in front of him and resting on his stomach. "I haven't heard of that ship in years."
"Is it connected in any way with Andross?" Krystal asked. This was the question they were all wondering, and Slippy held his breath as he waited for the answer.
Peppy shook his head. "Not directly, no. There's sort of a connection there, but...nothing particularly sinister. Still, I can tell you what we know, if you'd like."
"Anything that might help us out!" Slippy chimed in.
"Right. Well, the Von Dross was commissioned many years ago, and not by Andross. Back when General Pepper exiled that mad ape, there was a certain eccentric tycoon by the name of Von Dross who got the idea that the Cornerian government might start suppressing any legitimate science they deemed 'unethical'. So he commissioned a vessel. A massive one. Anybody else couldn't have possibly done it, but he did. Repurposed an experimental battle cruiser that never got finished for the Lylat Wars, paid billions of credits to the Cornerian government for it. Then he took the thing to space. After most of its ordinance had been removed, as per the agreement."
"That's it?" Falco stared at Peppy, flabbergasted. "Just some rich guy's ship?"
Peppy shook his head. "No. It wasn't just a ship, it was an entire social experiment. He brought all kinds of people aboard, from the wealthy and elite to the poor and downtrodden. People to crew the vessel, people to entertain and enjoy life aboard. It's equipped with everything. Shops, movies, parks, recreation. There's a strong emphasis on science and research, as well as a self-sustaining economy. They sell their findings to the highest bidder as they travel around the Lylat System. It's sort of like a moving think-tank, only considerably more complex. And profitable, I suppose" He hesitated for a moment, furrowing his brow as he thought. "And I should clarify. The ordinance had been removed, but there was nothing stopping them from installing their own later. Just couldn't use the ones built by the Cornerian Army. So they did their own weapons research and such. They do a little bit of everything over there."
"Not to be rude or nothin'," Falco interrupted, "But I don't really see how this information helps us that much."
Peppy nodded. "Yeah, sorry, I suppose that wouldn't be helpful. Their ship has a state of the art engine that allows it to warp to places very quickly, without needing a gate. In fact, it's capable of going well beyond the Lylat System. Which is one reason why you don't hear much from it. Don't ask me how they managed that. If they got into trouble, I can only assume it must have started from within, as they can escape any external threat with ease. And on that note, you can expect people from all walks of life. There won't just be soldiers or security or officers. There will be civilians."
"What about the other ships?" Krystal asked. "The ones who appeared and attacked us."
"Yes, that one's more troubling." Peppy frowned, giving the matter some thought before continuing. "I'm afraid we don't know anything about this group. We've never heard of the Third Fleet, and we've certainly never heard of the Venom Dominion. We have picked up an unusual amount of activity near Venom, and we even sent a couple of vessels to investigate, but came up with nothing. If there's anything out there, we didn't see it."
"So who are these guys?" Slippy gave voice to the question they all wanted to know.
Peppy leaned back in his chair and stared into space, not looking at any particular member of the Star Fox team. "Afraid we don't know. Maybe they're some kind of remnant of Andross's forces that have been asleep for the last ten years or so. Maybe they don't know he's dead. Maybe they're a bunch of pretenders, just pirates that are using the name and station in order to cause fear in their victims, perhaps hoping for an easy surrender. Whatever the case, I have absolutely no idea who they are or if their claims are remotely legitimate. Even the increased activity in Venom is nothing to be alarmed over. Pirates occasionally make temporary hideouts out there. We've seen it before. And Corneria's fleets avoid that sector if possible."
It was Falco that spoke next, sounding a bit troubled. "I dunno. These guys didn't seem like pirates to me. They were too organized, too efficient. Never known too many pirates to fit that description. Some kind of mercs, maybe."
Slippy nodded. "And the technology they had access to! They had some incredible shields, unlike anything I've ever seen before. And I don't see how or why pirates would have access to that sort of tech! And even if they did, why not just sell it? They're in it for the money, and that kind of tech would be worth a fortune."
Krystal added her own voice to the conversation. "They were very guarded with their thoughts, so what I am about to suggest may not be an accurate assessment. But I was given the impression that the captain genuinely believed what he was saying. I do not believe it was some kind of deception, at least not an intentional one."
Peppy sighed again, closing his eyes as he absorbed this new information. He didn't seem pleased at all, his nose even twitched a couple of times. "Then that's a bad omen of what's to come. The last thing we need is another war. Corneria is not ready. So many worlds are still devastated from the Aparoid invasion, and our fleet is just a paltry shadow of what it once was." He raised one of his hands to his forehead, massaging his temples gently before speaking again. "That's the part I hate most about this job. I have to see it all. All the devastation. Then make decisions. But there's only so much I can do. The damage is horrific. And there's still so many who need help."
Slippy felt very sad for his old friend, as he could almost see the weight of the galaxy weighing down on his shoulders. Slippy hated watching the news of what was going on. Of families still struggling to feed themselves, of them still finding bodies in the rubble of some ruined worlds, missing friends and loved ones. And then there were the after-effects of those who happened to survive the touch of the Aparoids. Some never really recovered, still hearing voices that weren't there, experiencing alien sensations as a result of being contaminated. It caused some to grow ill, and how bad the illness got seemed to vary from case to case. It was a mess.
At last Peppy spoke again, his voice quiet and with a hint o f sorrow. "I hope it's not true. We cannot deal with the return of Andross or his flunkies right now. Or even someone who just admires him."
Falco drummed a couple of his fingers against his opposite shoulder impatiently, then shook his head. "I don't think it matters right now. Right now, we just need to focus on getting Fox out of there."
Peppy nodded. "Agreed." He frowned for a moment, tapping his chin. "Seems a bit reckless that he would charge in like that. I mean, I know he can be a bit brash, but he's usually a little smarter than that."
Slippy shot Krystal a nervous glance. Sure enough, she seemed to have bristled up a bit, though he doubted very much that she was angry at Peppy. He imagined she was upset with a certain fox right now. Slippy cleared his throat and spoke up. "Uh...well...he sorta found out that uh...that Fara was there. We got a call for help from her."
"Ah." That was all Peppy had to say for the moment. After a pause, he continued speaking, his words quiet and subdued. He seemed troubled by something, and Slippy wasn't sure if his next words were actually directed at Star Fox or not. "So that's where she disappeared to. Strange..." He trailed off, going quiet again as he contemplated the matter. He then returned his attention to Slippy, responding to his statement. "Well, then Fox's actions make a bit more sense now, don't they?"
"Yeah, uh..." Slippy spared another glance to Krystal before nervously clearing his throat and continuing. "We're all a little upset about it."
"Some more than others, I'll bet." Peppy offered dryly. "Well, I'm sure Fox is okay. He'll be alright. For two reasons. One, because he's resourceful, smart, and quick. Sly like a fox. And two..." He paused then offered them a knowing grin. "He's got the rest of you to back him up."
Slippy smiled back. "Yeah. But we're still trying to figure out what the best approach is. What do we do? That enemy shield is impervious to our weapons, and there's not much we can do for Fox as long as they're in orbit. So far, our scans indicate that they're not really doing anything, just matching the Von Dross's orbit. They haven't attacked the Von Dross, and they haven't tried to board. We don't know what they're planning."
"Considering how aggressive they were in driving you off, I can't imagine it's anything pleasant." Peppy stated plainly. "We have no data on that ship, and we regretfully have no reinforcements to spare. As much as I hate to tell you this, I am afraid you're on your own."
Even though he was disappointed, this was exactly what Slippy was afraid would happen. No backup, no fleet to come and help them out. The others seemed just as disappointed as he was. Krystal's face fell, and Falco was...well, Falco.
"There is one thing that I can do, however." Peppy offered. "I don't know if it's still accurate, as they may have modified the vessel in the years since its creation. But I'm sending you a schematic of the Von Dross as it was shortly before it launched. I hope that helps a little." With that, one of the Cornerian officers approached Peppy and handed him an electronic tablet, which the general then proceeded to lay on the armrest of his chair, tapping it a few times. Then, right before Slippy's eyes, a holographic image of the insides of the Von Dross appeared.
He couldn't believe it. He had access to almost everything on that ship! He could see weapons systems, shield schematics, engine layout, even complex information regarding how everything worked, including the experimental technology that had been aboard. Or at least, it was experimental all those years ago. Best of all, he had a wonderful layout of the ship, making it easy to know where everything was. The crew quarters, engineering, science, the bridge, operations, all of it. He even had a rough estimate of the size of the crew, though that didn't help much. It could comfortably hold a few hundred people, but the minimum requirement was somewhere around fifty. So he supposed it could be anything in that range.
Slippy suddenly realized that they were still in the middle of the conversation and he had gotten distracted. He looked back up and offered Peppy a grateful smile. "Yeah. This will help a lot, thank you."
Peppy offered a polite nod of his head. "Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you. While I regret the circumstances of our current meeting, it's always good to see you all again. Take care of yourselves. And..." He hesitated for a moment, as if not entirely sure he should say what he wanted to say. At last, he shook his head and said it anyway. "I'll see if there's anything more I can do. I can't promise anything. But I'll try."
"Thank you, Peppy." Krystal spoke softly. "We are in your debt."
He shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. No debts here. Just old friends helping each other." With a tired smile, he spoke one last time. "Peppy out." With that, the image on the screen faded, soon to be replaced with the backdrop of stars out of the viewport.
The crew took a few moments to absorb all of this in silence. Slippy studied the diagrams of the Von Dross. He'd have to spend quite a bit of time analyzing it, it was considerably more complicated than any vessel he'd encountered in the past. This was not going to be easy. To make matters worse, even his preliminary scans of the vessel indicated some considerable alterations, so the accuracy of these schematics was in question. It was something in the right direction, that was true. But that was just the first step. They needed to either communicate with Fox or board the ship themselves to make any use of the information. And that didn't look like it was possible for the moment.
And perhaps not for some time to come.
Krystal tried to keep her thoughts guarded from the others. She did not want them to be aware of the storm of emotion raging inside her. She normally took some pride in being in control. She could sense the emotions of others, even thoughts at times. Perhaps this was the reason why she tried to control her own so much. She didn't want to feel some of the things that she sensed in others. She was sensitive to those who were vulnerable, or those who were lashing out with their emotions, overwhelmed by stress, frustration, or disappointment. It was not something she wanted for herself. She believed in control of one's feelings.
But now, that control was slipping. She placed her head against the viewport, closing her eyes as her face pressed against the cool surface.
What had happened?
She had lost Fox, he was trapped on a vessel dealing with an unknown threat. They were cut off from him by a hostile vessel, claiming to serve an ancient enemy. Her two companions bickered as they always did. And she found herself alone. Again.
Why couldn't he have listened, she asked herself. Why couldn't he, just once, have listened to her?
This wasn't fair to Fox. She knew that. He often took her advice, often valued her opinion. But once in a while, he got stubborn and did something like this, put himself in needless risk and made her worry for him terribly. And every time he did this, it hurt a little more than the last.
But it wasn't what he did that hurt so much. It wasn't that he disagreed or acted on his own that hurt her so terribly.
It was the the fear. The fear of losing him. Of not seeing him again. Of...never knowing if he would have the courage to tell her what she believed she sensed in his heart and mind. He had come so close earlier. She hadn't meant to read his thoughts, but how could she not? It was so strong in his mind. His feelings for her. She had suspected for some time, of course. But she had tried to be fair, to let him say it on his own terms. Was that not how these things were supposed to go? She would wait until he gathered the courage, and then he would express his feelings. Feelings that she...
She shook her head. She didn't have time for such thoughts right now. But she was so worried for Fox, she had to do something. She couldn't fly there, not without engaging the enemy, and that hadn't gone so well last time. There had to be another way...
A thought occurred to her. She questioned the wisdom of it. She did not want to act brashly, as Fox had. But she needed to know if he was okay. More than that, she might be able to communicate with him briefly.
However, this was not without risk. There was something out there, something on that ship. Something unlike anything she had ever encountered before. And in some bizarre way, also very familiar. It was powerful. It was alien. It was discordant, yet harmonious. Beautiful, yet hideous. Painful, yet wonderful. Her mind had trouble processing and accepting whatever it was, and it caused her terrible pain whenever she reached out. She hadn't told the others yet, but ever since she had felt the presence, she had made multiple attempts to investigate, brief probes from her mind. But as of yet, she had gained nothing for her efforts. Her attempts had been guarded, and she had always had to withdraw her mind within only a few moments for fear of damage.
Or retribution.
It was ironic in a way. She was now about to attempt something in much the same vein of what had made her so upset with Fox in the first place. Yet she felt as though she could do no other. Falco and Silppy would be bickering again before long. And if she could just make sure Fox was okay, maybe even sense a thought or two from him regarding what he needed, it might just make things easier for all of them.
She spared a glance at the other two. Slippy was still busy analyzing the data he had received, going over the layout of the Von Dross. Falco was beside Slippy, studying the data for himself, likely trying to find something useful to do. She would not tell them, it would worry them needlessly. Besides, the danger wasn't that great. At least, she didn't think so. She'd be able to pull out. And even if whatever it was did attack her, she believed it would simply repel her rather than attempt to do real harm. Or so she hoped. She had no real idea of its capabilities. Whatever "it" was.
She took a deep steadying breath, calming her nerves and closing her eyes. The sounds on the bridge became distant and muted, the rapid typing and clicking of ROB and his work fading into the background, then disappearing entirely. She was in a void now, an emptiness as she stretched her senses out beyond the ship, beyond the mere physical universe. Once more she found herself searching for answers.
It was not hard to find the Von Dross. It was loud. There were many voices, many thoughts. Some of them in pain, some of them in fear, some of them in pleasure. They were all there, all thinking and talking at once. It was almost maddening. But one by one, she began to drown them out. It was a lengthy process. One that took a great deal of time. But slowly, ever so slowly, they were all silenced.
We wonder...who you are...
The vixen stifled a gasp as she heard the voice in her head, so alien and strange to her. It was not merely one voice, it was many. So many voices blended together. Some voices were feminine, alternating between motherly and seductive. Some were masculine. Some were threatening, some were welcoming. But all of them spoke, all of them sharing a coldness in their voice. And each voice grew or waned in power, leaving one voice speaking strong over the others. All different voices, all growing dominant at different times. And the voices cycled in their strength, each competing and overpowering the others at one point or another.
We feel you probing us, searching for the one you cannot find...
Her breath quickened, a shiver of fear running through her body. They had been scanning her just as she had them. But they seemed to have had much more success than her. She could feel an unpleasant sensation as they continued their mental probe, like a cold slimy blanket draped over her, tightening as it attempted to go deeper. Who was this?! What was it?!
What is a drop of rain when compared to the storm? She heard its voice echoing within her mind. So powerful. The voice alternated between being comforting and chilling, warm and empathetic one moment while cold and emotionless the next. What is a thought when compared to a mind? Our unity is full of wonder which your tiny individualism cannot even conceive.
So many have joined our song. So many more shall. We sense your thoughts. Your feelings for him, the one who has come aboard. He will soon be part of our song...our harmony...His flesh will merge with ours, and our choir shall sing strong.
Fox! She tried to drive the entity away, repel it from her mind, to close down the link between them. But the entity was persistent, probing her thoughts, her mind, learning about her. It was as if her whole soul was being laid bare for the thing, her history, her very being. All of it being violated by this entity as it forced its mind against hers. She tried desperately to fight it off, to keep as many of her memories and thoughts closed to the entity as possible.
Then she was granted a vision.
She didn't know if she had inadvertently pulled it in her struggles to escape as she desperately lashed out at the thing in her efforts, or if the entity was sending it to her deliberately. But what she saw was repulsive and horrifying, making her fur feel like hundreds of bugs were crawling through it, as though her skin had been pierced by tiny needles. An organic mass of flesh, tissue, and blood, pulsing and throbbing. A single fleshy orb was suspended in the middle of the room, above a mountain of writhing organic material, what looked like flesh. And somehow she knew that this was the invader in her mind. She was seeing its core, its beating heart. The very sight sickened her.
You find us strange...repulsive. But you do not know the splendors of flesh. Of the rapturous harmony that we bring. Soon you will know our song...the song of the Many. And we will embrace you as our own.
Something about this conversation struck a memory within her. The way the creature spoke, the aura that it emanated. It was so far from anything she had ever experienced. And yet her mind insisted that she had felt it before, or at least something like it. But where? Where had she...
We are the next step in your evolution. You will join us. And we will spread our song...
Then it hit her. She finally realized where she had sensed this before. The strange thought pattern, the unusual emotions and senses. Even as the realization popped into her mind, the creature withdrew. She wasn't entirely sure why it retreated, perhaps it had simply given the message it desired and had learned what it wished to know.
Now there were distant voices, people yelling and shouting, but she couldn't understand them. They were so far away. Everything was fading into darkness. The tendrils that she had felt wrapped around her dissipated, and she was free. She fell to her knees, gasping and coughing loudly as she struggled to catch her breath, her eyes heavy as she fought off sleep, in danger of passing out.
The world began to reappear around her. The voices came into focus. Slippy and Falco were both standing over her, shouting, she could feel their hands grabbing her shoulders and trying to hoist her up, to help her. She had fallen. She didn't remember falling. But she was on her back now. And she couldn't move
"What do we do, what do we do, what do we do, what do we do?!" Slippy was panicking as he tried to prop the vixen up.
"Shut up and calm down," Falco stated firmly. "You're not helping anybody."
"But-but-but-but we n-n-need her!" Slippy stammered, his old stutter creeping back into his voice, something that only happened when he was most distressed.
Krystal's eyes blinked open and she took a sharp breath as she found herself once more on the bridge of the Great Fox. She tried to reassure them, to let them know that she was alright. But she wasn't alright. Her mind had just been invaded in a most repulsive way, and she was still reeling from the mental assault. Her mouth opened, she tried to speak but no words would come. Even though the being had released her from its otherworldly grasp, she still felt phantoms of its tendrils upon her, as though it were still holding her in its grip, probing her mind with its own. All she could do was gasp, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air. She couldn't breathe!
When Krystal had suddenly collapsed, it caused a great commotion on the bridge. Slippy and Falco had both run to her side, alarmed. At first, she was completely unresponsive to their efforts, just squirming and writhing as they held her, gasping for air. She gave no acknowledgment that the others were even there. "She's hyperventilating!" Falco shouted. "Come on Slippy, hold her steady!"
"I-I-I'm tr-tr-trying!" The frog croaked out.
"Get the sedative!" Falco commanded.
The frog immediately released Krystal from his grip, charging toward the entrance of the bridge and slamming his hip against one of the consoles in his haste, yelping as he did so. His footfalls could be heard as he raced down the corridor of the ship, heading for the medical room. In the meantime, Falco was left alone to care for Krystal.
She wasn't responding to their words, she wasn't reacting to anything that was said or done. Her eyes were distant and unfocused as she struggled in vain to breathe. He was growing more and more alarmed over her condition, as it seemed to be getting worse by the moment. He did his best to reassure her. "It's okay, it's okay. Shhh." Falco's words were calm, even gentle, so uncharacteristic of the pilot. "You're alright, Krystal. You're alright."
It wasn't long before Slippy was back, and with trembling hands he managed to get out one of the sedatives, handing it to Falco. Slippy might have done the procedure himself, but his hands were shaking so badly that he didn't trust himself. Falco took the needle, placed it against Krystal's arm, then injected the sedative into her. The effect was immediate. Her struggles stopped, her choked and panicked gasps slowed down, her rate of breathing finally normalizing. Her eyes became heavy, and she seemed ready to drift off to sleep.
Once she had stabilized, the team started to relax just a bit. "She looks like she's going to be okay." Slippy commented, sounding more than a little relieved.
"Yeah. Yeah, it looks that way." Falco rubbed his forehead, looking a little worn himself. He wasn't used to seeing Krystal like this. What had happened to her? What caused it and why?
"What do we do now?" Slippy asked.
"I...don't know." Falco admitted. "For now, let's get her to her quarters. She needs rest."
"Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right about that." With that, the two gently picked up Krystal and started to carry her through the ship. Slippy huffed and puffed as they moved along. He eventually mumbled quietly, just loud enough for Falco to hear, "How come she's so heavy?"
"Don't let her hear you say that." Falco warned him. "Besides, she's not that heavy. You're just out of shape."
"I am not!"
Falco rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Just...keep holding her, okay?" They walked down the hallway with her held between the two of them, eventually reaching her quarters. The door slid open automatically, and they went inside. Falco had never actually seen the inside, and he didn't intend to intrude now. Slippy, however, was looking around and trying to take it all in, quite curious about what the room looked like, but Falco had the good sense to keep focused on the task at hand. "Let's get her on the bed."
"Kay." Slippy nodded his head, then followed Falco's lead as they eased her down. Once she was lying there, they both released a collective breath of relief before gathering themselves and exiting her room. But just before the door closed behind them, Krystal murmured something. A single word, perhaps simply a nightmare that she was having in her current state. But somehow, Falco feared it was something much, much more sinister. And much more real.
"Aparoids..."