Nova 7 - Submergency

by Phantom R.D.S. Foxx

OC focused story featuring (a) canon character(s). Direct sequel to "Nova 7 - Sunset". From the depths of the Venomian sea they came to conquer Lylat and now they are in Corneria City. With the new General and the helm and Star Fox still split, can Lylat be freed? Rated M for descriptive violence and heavy themes. Featuring Kip Starnova from Minty-Fivestar.

4. 3 - Frozen Waters

3 - Frozen Waters

- Even Pros Slip

There is a knock on the door. Pretty much the worst way he wishes to be disturbed. Especially when he was fading in and out of dreamland. It reminds him that something important is more important than his current occupation. He dislikes it a lot. Especially when he has his wife laying all sprawled out over him and he likes having her as a warm blanket.

But duty calls so this pleasure has to wait. Despite Calamity's attempts, Trevor does manage to get her off him. Both sigh and get their equipment back on. Another knock is at the door. Which Trevor answers with a stern "We're coming already!". Faint giggling can be heard from behind the door.

In response, he opens the door quicker than the culprits, Patches and Kip, were expecting. They quickly change their tune and stand at attention, stating that they are about to land. Although their faces are suggesting seriousness, the occasional twitches of the corners of their lips betray it.

"Right. Good. Gather in the conference room; we'll be down in one minute."

The door closes and the moment it is shut, the women let out the giggles that were still on the tip of their tongues. Before recovering and walking away, chatting about doing this more often. Just to tease. Something which Trevor can still hear however.

The pair walk on in silence for a while as they occasionally glance at each other. Like they have something else on the tips on their tongues. Kip really wants to ask something but she feels like it would infringe on some private matters. But as curiosity takes over, as well as the awkwardness of the silence, she can no longer hold back.

"So, what were you and Phantom talking about before?"

The question surprises Patches.

"Huh? Oh… uh… nothing major. Just some stuff we could relate to."

"Trevor-related?"

"Maybe a bit… which is actually what I wanted to ask you." she says, as she skillfully flips the conversation in her favor.

"Have you noticed Trevor being a little more… distant? With you I mean?"

Kip looks interested but also confused.

"What? No? Not that I've noticed. Have you?"

Patches shrugs as if she is unsure. But her facial expression speaks volumes.

"I sometimes feel like he cannot wait to send me into a vent."

Kip stops in her tracks and holds the bunny up too with a hand on her shoulder. She then turns Patches towards her. The roo then looks her right in the eye, as if she is testing whether or not Patches is really feeling it or trying to get a rise out of her.

"Hm. I see. You're really feeling that huh? Wow. Can't say I share your view. But first things first; did you tell him?"

Patches shakes her head and attempts to look away, which Kip is not allowing.

"So that's no then. Look, I get it. That feeling. But you're not his shadow. You're his 1. What adds to him. Not become a part of him. He sends you out yes, but also because he trusts you to do what you do best. And I can always see that big, dumb, goofy smile appear underneath that mustache of his the moment you return."

Kip's words have a positive effect on Patches, who was clearly having a moment of feeling down.

"But most importantly, is that you tell him."

"... yeah, you're right. But it's hard, you know."

"Tell me about it."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Kip realizes that her attempt to emphasize has also revealed that she is struggling with something as well. And that gets Patches curious. Given that there is no hiding any secrets from that bunny, especially considering they have been so straightforward with each other so far, she cannot keep it to herself.

She tells Patches about the interactions she has had with the person on her phone. How it all started after the ravaged state they were in after the mission to Aquas. Despite all their efforts, past and present, they are still being seen as an unproven liability. Patches hooks in by saying that she did notice some hostility coming from him but she has no idea it was this bad.

"How do we intend on solving it?"

"Do what we do best. Unashamed, proud and a fist into the face of our enemies." Kip states powerfully as she holds her fist up as armor envelops it.

Patches grins and nods before holding up her own fist. They bump before they resume their trip to the conference room. With Kip's arm around the back of Patches' neck as a comforting gesture; one should never, no matter their occupation, be ashamed for feeling a certain way.

- We Are Not Here

Almost everyone is already inside the conference room. The only two missing, are Trevor and PAL. Who have decided to converse in a supply closet with the door locked. Just in case.

"PAL. Please confirm we are on the landing approach to the frigate."

The A.I. does a quick double-check.

"Confirmed. The landing bay is open. No personnel are present."

"Excellent. Any update on the Admiral?"

"Nothing yet. Does Calamity suspect anything?"

"No. And I'd like to keep it that way."

"I understand. As you taught me."

"And I trust you not to abuse it."

"... you fear me still?"

Trevor chuckles.

"I sometimes fear about a lot of things. Death. My own. Yours. The others. It's nothing personal. But as I said; I trust you. That I occasionally fear you is something I gotta work on. Shall we?"

With that settled, the two enter the conference room. To be greeted by the team present. In the meantime, the autopilot lands Thresher into the designated bay. The moment touchdown is felt, Trevor calls for a blackout in accordance with the Major's orders. With one press of the button on his side of the table, all windows and other entryways to the outside are sealed. That, and all normal communications are kept out using a very powerful but extremely local jammer coming from PAL. Courtesy of the lessons learned from the Anglar base on Aquas.

The Emergency Protocol signal still works and once PAL is hooked up to the Multi-TableTM he makes sure this signal is being broadcast from the table back to Corneria. Within a few seconds, it is like nothing special has happened as the Major, the Lieutenant and Nelson all appear in their avatars.

"Ah, I see you've improved your protocols and hailed us the moment PAL was hooked up." compliments the Lieutenant, if a little back-handedly so.

"At least then we won't have to see ourselves as oversized heads."

"Your head is perfectly fine, regardless of size." Patches adds with a kiss blowing towards him.

The Lieutenant "catches" it and then puts it over his heart with a wink. The Major then puts everyone's focus on the matter at hand. He briefly looks around and sees that the blackout has been properly enforced.

"Good. Then we can start. Welcome to Operation Frozen Waters. This frigate is currently heading from the other end of Lylat to join up with a major assault force. Details are scarce about it but we can expect a big push soon. Nelson, bring it up."

"Yes, Sir."

The shrew brings up a holographic image of the Lylat system. Like before, it shows the lines of battle. They have shifted again after their actions on Zoness. It seems their grip on the planet was feeble at best. And whatever happened on Solar, clearly burned down. The lines have settled on Sector Z, Macbeth and Sector X. With only a mild presence on Fichina left after Star Fox battered them. The image then zooms in on the Anglar presence on the icy planet.

"And that is where you're going. The frigate will pass by the planet and that is where you'll be getting off." the Major explains, which is interesting to the Nova 7 members considering the planet is not exactly known for its non-frozen fluids.

"Does that mean we can ditch the Blue Marine?" Kip asks, with a glimmer of hope that she does not have to cooped up inside that thing again.

But she has to be disappointed as the Blue Marine must be used once again.

"According to our read-outs from the hard drive, there is a third lab underneath the icy surface of the planet. Precisely at the position that the Anglars are trying to hold on."

"They are still looking for it." Trevor deduces.

"Indeed. And the hard drive confirms that the device is there. Hence why we're sending you out there ASAP. It's a now-or-never moment." the Major emphasizes.

"Understood. Nova 7 is ready for the task."

"Major, may I ask what that device does? Why would the Anglars try so hard to find it?" Patches asks.

"Excellent question, Specialist. Nelson?"

"Already ahead of you, Sir."

With a few taps on the keyboard, the graphic of Lylat is put to the side and an image of the device pops up. It is oval shaped, with a core like a commercially sold plasma globe. With active spark gaps on both ends of the device.

"Not a lot is known about it. Except that Andross made it and that it does something that the Anglars really do not like."

"Indeed. They speak of it like a cursed object." Nelson explains.

"They write about it like something monstrous but are forbidden from talking about what it actually does. And destroying it is not an option, because their "creator" made it."

"Which means…"

"Correct, Specialist; Andross created the Anglars." the Major confirms.

"Hence why they would rather find it and keep it out of our hands, I suppose." the Lieutenant adds.

"Which I find not all very sporting. But then again, the apple does not fall far from the tree in that dumb ape's case."

"Wow, Lieutenant. Who pissed in your tea this afternoon?" Phantom jests.

"Hm. I supposed that is why it tasted so fishy."

As the Lieutenant goes along with the jest, Patches can only regret allowing Trevor and her big bird to spend any time together at all. It is clear that the corsac fox has a bad influence on her boyfriend.

"If we could focus." the Major calls his team to order.

"The frigate you're on will soon enter a jump, meaning you'll be at Fichina in no time. The moment they come out, is the moment you depart to the surface of the planet."

The image of the device falls to the background and Lylat system comes back into the limelight. It zooms in on the icy planet and towards the area where the fighting is still going on. Several pictures and pieces of recorded footage pop up, showing intense fighting against the Anglars' dogged resistance.

"Welcome to the Ninsov plateau. Previously a dig site to drill into the icy crust of the planet for resource collection before Andross' time, it was never really put into much use. That is until the Anglars came and started to reinforce the area. They seemingly even put a certain ape to work for them."

A picture of Andrew Oikonny pops up, much to the annoyed surprise of the Nova 7 team.

"Yes, those were our exact thoughts as well. However, according to our reports the ape is no longer present. Star Fox kicked him off the planet with relative ease it seems. So no need to worry about him." the Major waves off as his picture disappears again.

"The Anglars must be desperate to hire him." Calamity theorizes, still remembering how Andrew was used as nothing but a figurehead and bait before.

"Whatever their reasons, the important thing is that he is not present. Back to the site; the massive drill was put back in operation and the Anglars managed to drill all the way through. And they managed to find that third base. This one, we knew nothing of. So we do not know how it looks or what its purpose is." the Major warns.

"No worries, Major. Nova 7 will do what it does best." Trevor assures.

"Good. I'll leave the battle planning over to you. As long as the end goal remains the same; secure the drill and the immediate area around the hole in the ice so you can use the Blue Marine to enter the water. One tip; the Cornerian forces present will not be aware of your presence at first. So be careful around their artillery barrage. I don't want anyone dying to friendly fire."

All nod in understanding.

"Any questions?"

No hands are raised.

"Excellent. Then do your best and come back alive. If everything goes as planned, we may end this war by tomorrow. Dismissed!"

He salutes proudly as the transmission is cut short. Trevor calls out the name of their team and receives the expected reply. Then he calls for a small recess until their taxi ride is ready to jump to Fichina.

- This Dance We Do

There he is, alone at last. It surely took long enough. And she did not want to butt in. This has to be done without anyone else knowing even a little thing about it. This is between her and him.

Patches grabs the chance and leaves the bathroom. Closing the door she was peeping out from behind her and stepping towards Trevor. With every step, she feels the weight of it all weigh down on her feet and her heart. Like a sticky layer of shame that coats everything. And yet, the urge to get it all off her chest is overwhelming it.

"Trevor. Can I have a word?" she asks once she is close enough.

He looks up from his tablet and upon seeing her, smiles and puts the tablet away.

"For you, always. What's up?"

"Look… don't take this the wrong way but…"

She swallows hard and musters up some courage to get the message across.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"Avoiding?" Trevor asks as his expression turns more serious.

"Yeah. Because that's the feeling I get. Like you can't wait to send into some vent so you'd be rid of me. And it hurts! Because… I don't want to be cast aside. Especially not by you of all people. I want to contribute with everything I have! With my size, sure. But also with my guns and speed! I'm sorely missing that. But also… just us. Not only on the battlefield, but also in private I feel like you're avoiding me. I-I hate it, Trevor! So… yeah…"

Done with the crux of the issue, she breathes in deeply to calm herself down. She can feel her heart rate increase. It felt so good getting this out but at the same time, now that she sees Trevor's shocked yet sympathetic non-verbal response to her, it almost feels like an attack on his character.

"... wow. That's really how you feel, huh?" he says, a little flabbergasted.

A silence falls for a moment as Trevor is looking for the right words.

"All I can say is then, that I'm sorry. I never intended to make you feel this way. I don't want you to be cast aside. It's just recently your strengths haven't been that necessary. Otherwise I would've given you all the opportunity to run hog-wild." he explains before he chuckles awkwardly as he has to address her other gripe with him.

"As for the more personal feelings… I'm glad you told me. But man do I feel like an absolute asshole now!"

The attack was effective. Maybe too effective. She tries to mitigate it but Trevor stops her from doing so.

"Don't sugarcoat it, please. Better take it raw than anything else."

"Alright… I was just going to say that… it used to be so easy. Just the two of us against the world. And now… I get it. It's no longer the two of us."

"It's like the six of us now."

"Right! Right… you're busier than ever before. Having to deal with other people's business, feelings and that sort of thing. You even got Calamity to be your wife now. I mean that's already an achievement."

Trevor laughs along. But it is clear that she is still sugarcoating it a little bit. It does create temporary relief.

"But I do miss it still. More than I ever thought I would. I'm your 1, as you said more than a year ago. I want to feel like it again."

Trevor nods, understanding her plight. The two then lock eyes and remain in total silence. Not even moving an inch. Before almost at the same time falling in each other's arms. No words were needed, just acting on pure instinct and a similar shared sadness for the situation.

Already, Patches feels so much better. The acknowledgement and the apology already meant so much and this is the cherry on the cake. For Trevor, it is something similar. Her accepting of his apology for being an un-attentive dumbass feels so good. She is still his 1. His XO.

The hug breaks up mutually and both look much more relieved. No longer that stressed and without much of an emotional load on either of their shoulders.

"Phew… I'm glad that it's out. It was difficult to keep it to myself. Although I tried to sort of coerce you into getting to talk to me. But I was a bit too vague I suppose."

"So that's why you were so intent on annoying me." he sighs, before lamenting how only women think that men are capable of telepathy.

Which makes Patches offer him a jab to the upper arm which Trevor politely declines.

"Tell you what." he proposes after giving it some thought.

"Would I make it better by, at the very least, have breakfast with you. Calamity always has a run before it anyway. We can catch up, talk complete dross and so keep in contact. I can't promise it'll be every morning, but I'll do my best."

Patches smiles, positively radiating she likes the idea that much. She could not ask for more. Although she is getting that, because Trevor was already planning out something for the attack on Fichina. He believes that he will have the mission available for her that will allow her to properly stretch her legs and show those Anglars what a Nova 7 Specialist can do. Although she does not know the details just yet, she is already excited for it.

"I guess that will suffice?" Trevor checks sarcastically.

"Oh yes, it will." she confirms.

"Good. Then come along; recess is over and we got some frozen fish to attend to."

"I was almost worried you were going to make a food pun."

"I'm not the Admiral. Not just yet."

- Creeping Degree Of Frost

Passing through red and cracked marble halls with arches ending rather abruptly thanks to fallen debris blocking the way ahead. The fast flashing light that shines from the outside in, casts the reflection of the rough waves against them. The ceiling is almost reaching the top of his head, causing his beret to get snagged on it. It makes him feel both important but also rushed. This is not how he is supposed to feel as follows the disheveled carpet that leads up to the throne room. With his clear insignia, distinguishing himself as another General, he will have to address the situation to someone so much more important than he is. And likely very enraged compared to how he was before.

One reasonably-sized door, completely blank, opens up all the way. It scrapes all the way through, dragging paint residue on the floor. The noise mostly drowns out a blood curdling scream. Once he is far enough inside, the gate guard closes the door behind him. He follows the carpet all the way up to an only slightly more enlightened part of the throne room. Where, sitting in a broken looking, almost decapitated throne, sitting under a pulsating incandescent light sits Anglar Emperor. Lord and ruler of all Anglar kind and the self-proclaimed idiot of this invasion of Lylat.

Aside from a handful of guards, there is no one else in the room. All he can aside from the obvious, is the screen to his left and a dried up bloodstain to his right. Then, the wandering and squinted eyes of the Emperor are put upon the General, who salutes right away.

"A salute… perhaps appropriate. Your predecessors were all kiss-asses. One bigger than the other."

His fist slams on the armrest.

"Both failed me!"

The Emperor then calms down.

"So I believe that a more standardized greeting is a welcome pace. Tell me, General. What did my failing brethren do to my invasion plans?"

The General wastes no time and puts his storage device in. The program starts up again and shows Lylat as once more the battle lines have shifted once again. Going from yellow to green, control has been lost on Zoness and Solar. Whereas Fichina is stubbornly holding on.

"That seems to be the only good news; the ice planet is holding."

"Yes it is, your Majesty. The previously planned attack on Star Fox had failed. The missiles were intercepted and destroyed. Although two came close to destroying their mothership, in the end they managed to repel our attacks and destroy our vital infrastructure."

"But they did not fully eradicate our forces?"

"No, they have not. They are however cut off and are holding on by grit alone. They are completely surrounded by the present Cornerian forces. Star Fox meanwhile relocated to Solar and… well, I think you know what happened there."

The General tries not to evoke any shame but the Emperor feels it regardless.

"No. No, you do not." he grumbles.

"What about Zoness? I have not heard from my Colonel yet and the fact that you are standing here means only one thing."

"Yes, your Majesty. I will not beat around the bush; the Monolith Facility has fallen."

With the press of a button, the screen shifts over to footage of the White Out unit breaking into the facility, pressing into its bowels, killing the Colonel, holding off the freshly produced clones before rigging the core up to explode and evacuating the building.

"Despite the extensive defensives, including the narrow cave shafts and the multitude of mines scattered around, we were unable to keep them out. We can only assume that the facility lies completely in ruins. Along with its technology."

"Yes. The Cornerians do seem to be the type to ignore the obvious answer ahead of them. Dumb insects. And yet we were being beaten by them each time. What does that say about us?"

"Please, your Majesty. I implore you not to lose hope. I am already making up a plan to hold them off at…"

The General stops when he hears something being communicated to him through his ear piece. The Emperor, unaware what is being said, can only assume it is good news. Because the General's face goes from faintly hoping for a miracle to a broad smile.

"Are you sure!? Oh… that. That is amazing news! I will tell him right away!"

The General looks up to face the Emperor.

"We found it! It is indeed there, like you suspected it was!"

The Emperor now shares the smile of his General.

"Excellent! Keep it safe at all costs until it is ready for transport off-world! Those bugs will likely try to seize it for themselves. We cannot let that happen."

"At once, your Majesty!" the General salutes before being waved away by a more energized Emperor, who does not seem so angry anymore.

---

- Seeing White

Along with a smattering of other colors pass them by. Viewed from the multitude of cameras used to observe the outside of Thresher. Seen through the eyes of the entire Nova 7 team, who are strapped down to their chairs. With the obvious exception of PAL, who can dictate his own personal gravity field.

Then the Cornerian frigate comes out of the jump and the shift to normal propulsion is felt right away. After the team each got a nice case of whiplash, is the blackout procedure lifted and the belts unbuckled. And before any frigate personnel could re-enter the hangar, Thresher had already taken off. Leaving little to no trace of its presence.

As the ship flies over to the white planet, even from this far away, the fighting can be seen. Faint lights of orange and red, suggesting massive explosions. Likely from that artillery that was mentioned. So their battle plan will have to include that. Because those cannon boys are not going to stop just because some kind of special forces team is there. They want Anglar blood and no one could fault them for that.

The Multi-TableTM is reopened and Trevor goes over the plan he managed to concoct during their recess. As he is explaining, they get a call from Nelson as his avatar pops up on the table to relay what he has heard from the Major.

"Guys, I hate to say it, but that hole you were going to slip through with the Blue Marine? Yeah, that's been closed. Newly released satellite footage shows that those bastards blocked it up."

"How were those pictures released?" Trevor asks, distrusting with his arms folded and with a smirk.

"A magician never reveals their secrets. Not even to their lover, Phantom. You can stop asking how I do it, yeah?" he asks rhetorically while putting his hand in his side and striking a pose that radiates pure sass.

Only to make Phantom blush like a complete fool in front of everyone as he fruitlessly tries to deny the sexual angle Nelson put forth.

"I ain't teaching you so you can do it on me. Figure out your own moves."

"Nelson. Focus. You two can "hash it out" when we're back home." Trevor intervenes for the sake of the issue at hand.

"Right, right. Where was I…? Oh yeah, the blockade. You'll need to take control of the drill and use it to remove it. Lest you want to be crumpled together like an empty soda can."

"Got it. Anything else we'll need to look out for?"

"Yes. The drill is huge and needs lots of power. There are multiple transformers scattered around that power the drill. You'll need at least three of them operational for the drill to function. Five would be optimal. However, they are down and likely damaged thanks to the Cornerian hellfire and the Anglar presence there. After you turn them on however, they will activate a forcefield strong enough to repel all other attempts to disable them. An automated safety feature when danger is detected."

As Nelson is explaining it, Trevor's gaze wanders over to his second-in-command as the gears in his head start to turn.

"Interesting. We'll work our way around it. Thank you, Nelson."

"How's things at home?" Kip asks all of the sudden.

"Oh, things are going alright. There are some obvious sticking points here, mainly when it came to the whole discussion about those clones between the Major and the Lieutenant… but that's all sorted out. And yes, I'm doing perfectly fine too. Just busy." he sighs before putting on a big smile.

"Thanks for asking, Kip! I appreciate it."

Kip smiles in return. The visions of Tacker Field being destroyed that she got from that illusion still pop up from time to time. So checking if everything is alright, feels right.

"Glad to hear it, Nelly." Trevor teases, but with a core of care.

The shrew folds his arms and chuckles.

"You'll always find a way to be a sarcastic bastard, huh?"

"You wanna be pot or kettle in this?"

"Oh, please! I'm flamboyant as hell." he states while daintily resting his chin on his hand with a limp wrist.

Before with a fluent motion he turns his hand around and with waves disparagingly at Trevor. Like he was brushing some nasty dust away.

"While you're nothing but a brute with your clique." he insults, while showing with a wink that he does not mean it at all.

Trevor strikes a similar pose and chuckles along.

"Too true. But without this brutish clique of yours, you wouldn't be in your current position."

"Hence why despite that, you've all earned my undying love." he professes before pressing a bigger key on his keyboard, which seems to activate something.

"Consider this a more materialistic way of thanking you. It'll be a nice surprise, I'm sure. Good luck to all of you. And don't you die on me, or I'll haunt you all." he threatens in the least threatening way possible before he sets his eyes on Phantom.

"And that goes double for you, darling. Your icy ass better come back to me alive."

Phantom freezes, not sure how to respond. Which Nelson finds very entertaining. But, in order not to humiliate his white vulpine more, he instead blows him a kiss before cutting off the transmission.

"That was surprising. But always fun to see him pop up." Calamity chimes.

"Agreed. However, we should get back to our plan. Which we now need to adapt. But I believe we got ourselves an ace in the hole…"

- Vengeful Black

The Ninsov plateau. What was always considered to be an island in the past, actually turned out to be connected to the continent. The way to it was under water most of the time. Archaeological findings have indicated that a mighty stronghold once stood there. Providing solace for those in need and nothing but a wall to those who would threaten those innocent lives. It was called Fortress Ninsov.

Nothing of the original ancient stronghold stands today. But the Anglars definitely did their best to match it. Although the walls are not that tall, they were high enough that they could not be jumped over. Lest any Cornerian invasion force were willing to risk their heads. And because too many heads were already lost, the vengeful commander of the local troops, ordered a constant artillery bombardment. All day, all night. So that no Anglar will know peace until they are dead.

The once white plateau has therefore turned from a natural white to a complete, ashen black. With streaks and spots of red where Anglar forces have been decimated by the hellfire. The falling snow has turned to black from the smoke and soot in the air. The natural quiet of this barren, icy place has been disturbed by the distant rumble of cannons and howitzers, bringing more death in a deceptively beautiful arc from the tracer shells.

In this madness of violent mayhem, Thresher crashes through the overcast skies. The windscreen drenched in a thin layer soot right away. Nova 7 can see the vengeance of the Cornerian Army being enacted on those invading fish people.

Patches correctly identifies them as the 46th Infantry Division. Or at least what remains of them. She of all people would know; she was with them during the invasion of Corneria City. It was effectively annihilated. That truck she was on was the last remnant of the division that was present in the city during that time.

"Poor guys. So many of their friends lost…" she sympathizes.

"I can't fault them for wanting revenge at all." Phantom joins in.

"PAL, can you identify the unit those remnants are with?"

The A.I. scans what he can see and determines it is the 113th Artillery Brigade. The "Icebreakers". Native to Fichina for the most part.

"So we have those wanting revenge for the destruction of Corneria City…" Calamity starts.

"... and those who want to avenge Fichina City. All in one." Kip finishes.

"No wonder they are laying the hammer down on them. Should we try to contact them? To see if they are willing to let their barrels cool off?" Trevor suggests openly to the rest.

"Sergeant, I may not have a great grasp on emotions, but considering the amount of hate and anger that is present down there, I do not think it will work." PAL states.

Trevor believes him but for the sake of transparency, they have to. PAL understands and gives Trevor the correct frequency to contact those down below. He manually cycles to it until the dial is in precisely the right spot. Then he takes out the transponder module and presses the button.

"This is Sergeant-at-Arms Trevor DeLange with the 35th Special Vanguard Unit. We're currently above you and we request that you temporarily hold your fire until we secure the hole in the ice on the plateau. After which, you may resume your fire. How copy, over?"

On the ground, the commander of the unit, standing together with the former commander of the 46th, hear Trevor's request loud and clear. They both look up and see the ship high up in the sky. Their frowned expressions do not change at all and they look back at each other. No words need to be spoken; both press the off-button on their earpieces before taking them out. Nothing will stand in their way of their revenge. If they want to join them in the fury, then it is their own funeral.

The connection that Trevor had with them is severed. He sighs but this was expected. They want nothing but Anglar blood to spray from the explosions their guns create. So the plan will go ahead as discussed before. Trevor puts the module back and asks Patches if she is ready.

She nods as determination and excitement fills her. The energy brewing inside the tall soles of her platform boots is itching to be used again as even when she is standing with both feet flat on the floor, the blue glow still pokes out from underneath them. Trevor approves and tells PAL to punch it. Perhaps then they can land during a lull in the fire.

- Explosive Speed Skating

"Nelson, do you have a connection to their CID's now for that live footage?" the Major asks as he stands next to the shrew looking at the big screen.

"Sorry Sir, still nothing."

"Could it be that they have something turned off?" he suggests, knowing he is not tech savvy at all but he at least wants to think along.

Nelson shakes his head.

"No, no. That couldn't be it. See? We do have a connection finally. I'm just waiting on things to load. And I have a sneaking suspicion this will take a while." he sighs.

"No matter; it is incidental." the Lieutenant states.

"Instead, focus on that Cornerian presence in their vicinity. The 113th?"

The screen zooms in, showing a more detailed view of the unit. With cannons still blazing.

"Why are they still firing? Don't they see our guys up in the air?" Nelson asks in light disbelief.

"It wouldn't matter. They want blood." the Major counters.

"Correct you are. Quite an interesting move of Command to combine the victims of two separate invasions together." the Lieutenant notices.

"Twisted. Sometimes I do like General Peppy. Sometimes…"

While the mutt admits this, the gears inside his head start to turn. And quickly grind to a halt thanks to a rabbit-shaped problem. And it has nothing to do with the Specialist. He squeezes his right thumb within his own hand as he feels something vile stirring inside of him. And it is cooking up something seedy.

Back on the battlefield, most Cornerian soldiers have already taken notice of Thresher flying overhead. Aside from this acknowledgement and the temporary halt to the gunfire because of the confusion, they are planning to do little else with that knowledge.

That moment of nothing, is exactly what Nova 7 has been looking for. PAL steers the ship towards the drill site. Using the onboard guns to suppress and deliver their own fire from above down onto the stubborn Anglars. With deadly effect, because while the Cornerian are firing blindly from a considerable distance, they are flying right over it.

Inside, Nova 7 has prepared themselves. Mentally and equipment-wise. Everyone knows the plan and are excitedly awaiting the green light. The vibrations of the onboard guns provide a bumpy ride but also remind them that it is likely packed with bad guys.

After performing a quick circle around the drill site and sending many fish to the great ocean in the sky, Thresher comes to a stop in the middle of the scorched fields. The light goes green and a side door opens. With the lessons learned from the last time that Tacker Field was invaded, a metal arm swings out and lets loose a rope.

Patches does not need to wait for the command to get a move on; she jumps at the opportunity to stretch her legs. With both hands she grabs on to the rope and slides down. She is so eager, that she does not even feel the rope burn too much. Until she is on the ground that is.

"No time to think about that…" is the only thought she has before the blue energy emanating from underneath her boots expands significantly.

Enough to lift her off the ground. It always feels exciting for that one moment. Like a cloud just formed beneath her feet. Once that momentary realization has been processed, she looks up with held breath as the cannons in the distance sing the song of their people. With time running out quickly, she takes off like a rocket towards the first transformer.

Behind her, Thresher has repositioned and has stopped just in front of the drill. More ropes are let down with Kip along with Calamity and PAL going down to secure the immediate area around the hole. Nelson's material appreciation proves its worth right away, as now each member has their own set of portable shields. Kip has a gun shield that protects her on both sides of the weapon, while still having a clear sightline to aim. PAL has something similar, but it envelops all around and spins with the barrel of the chain cannon. And Calamity can now pretty much surround herself with portable shields now.

Trevor and Phantom are staying behind in Thresher to provide sniper support. But they do not need to look through their scopes to see certain death falling down from the sky. So Trevor orders PAL to keep an eye out on the trajectory of those shells. Should any of them be deadly toward any of the members, to give them an advanced warning. PAL confirms that he will obey the order.

Ahead of them, now visible through his scope, is his XO. Who was temporarily held up by two Anglars. None of which lived to regret it as they met with her accurate, spread-shot fire as fast as she could pull the trigger.

With that out of the way, she reloads and skates over to the first transformer. Although it looks like it took one serious beating, a quick look at the access panel shows that it is functioning. With appreciation for this piece of seriously tough machinery, she opens the access panel to turn it on. With a little help from a subroutine on PAL's side by introducing the dongle to it.

After some finagling and having to keep her head down after the shells start to explode around her, not so kindly showering her in snow and ash, she manages to turn on the first transformer. Right away, the forcefield begins to form. She jumps away quickly, as that field does not care what is in its way as it will disintegrate anything.

"Patches here. First one is online." she reports.

"Excellent! On to the next one. And be careful with those falling shells."

"Got it Trevor. You better focus on keeping those fishes off my back."

A shot rings out which passes her by, almost grazing her nose as it drills into the forehead of a once very angry, but now very dead Anglar. No sooner than the fish hits the ground before Patches' feet, does Trevor already have a new round in the chamber.

"Like that?"

Patches can only respond by giving him a not-so-kind hand gesture, knowing that he is looking at her through his scope.

"Oh, love you too, sweetheart. Lots of kisses but you better get your bunny ass back in gear before I gotta save it again."

She rolls her eyes and already mentally prepares herself to punch him on the arm again before she takes off to go to the other transformer. Outrunning Trevor's scope with ease, which only makes him chuckle.

Then he hears from this right Phantom count the targets he has shot. Whispering, much like he would. Seeing and hearing it from the outside, makes it look so strange. He would have sworn it sounded and looked so much cooler in his own head.

He cannot dwell on it for too long, as PAL calls in that a shell is on its way to crash through their ship. In response, the ship will be remotely repositioned. Trevor is halfway through thanking the A.I. when he gets a message over the radio.

"Come in, Trevor. Can you hear me?" the voice sounds very vague, like it is somewhere in the background.

Trevor turns away from Phantom as he adjusts the knobs until he can hear the voice more clearly. But once he does, he is not in a great mood. It is the Admiral and he brings some bad news.

"Ah, there you are. Listen, I tried my best. But General Peppy has managed to slip my grasp. He has already surrounded himself with a lot of bad friends and those bastards have now started to protect him. I'm deadlocked. I'm sorry."

Trevor sighs after processing what he has just heard.

"Got it. Thanks for trying, Admiral. We appreciate it."

"You're insinuating that I'm stopping now? Oh no, he deadlocked me on this specific issue; the battle has been lost but not the war! Ha ha!"

That cheers the corsac fox up quite well. Trevor runs it by the Admiral again and gets it confirmed once again.

"You don't have to, Sir. Just because we got your Marines out of there…"

"I will not have it that you of all people call me "Sir", Trevor. I think we're on too good of terms for you to use the respectful singular. Just "Admiral" will do. And did you really think I was only promoting you because you saved my big fat behind?"

His laugh roars over the airways, almost loud enough for Phantom to hear over the violence of the battlefield.

"No, Sergeant. I did it of my own free will. Munt and his team be damned in this particular case. So I'll continue to do so."

"Thank you, Admiral. From all of us, even if not all of us know about it."

"They'll soon. But I've held you up long enough. Keep your head up high and show those bozos how wrong they are. Sigismundo, out!"

With that assurance, Trevor returns to his sniping duties. Phantom has not noticed any of it, being too focused on keeping his crosshairs on Anglar heads.

Below the both of them, Kip has had to reposition due to a falling shell and is now unloading towards Anglar positions to the east of the drill. PAL has managed to wirelessly connect with the drill now that has some power going through it while he is also snapping to and popping heads to the north. And Calamity has everything locked down to the west.

Ahead of them, Patches has reached the second transformer. Even if she had to bowl over an Anglar that stuck its ugly head out at an inopportune moment. She would have reported that creep to HR if she had not put a shot through its jawline already. It will have enough time to reflect on its behavior before it is lights out.

She accesses the panel just like before. But the moment she opens up the panel, the small camera lens above it starts to wiggle. Then it starts to crack as she hears something behind smash into it. Something that wants out. She almost does not dare to look closer but when she does, she sees something that is a similar color to the regular Anglars, but it is long and slender like an eel. And it has more mouth than it has a face. With great big fangs. And it looks really mad at her.

Before the internal switch in her brain is flipped from curious to alarmed, the camera lens pops out and lets the creature loose. Patches recoils backwards, her mind instantly jumping back to that encounter in Corneria City with that creepy Aparoid monster. It too jumped out at her suddenly, hissing and screeching as it hungered to chew on her face.

Back then, all she could do was be lucky that death had not chosen her that day as Trevor used the creature as clay pigeon practice. She can still feel the fear grip every fiber of her being and freeze her muscles. She was paralyzed with a puzzled flight-or-fight response.

A shot rings out as the nasty creature lunges at her. The impact of the shot blows it all the way back and it smacks dead and perforated against the metal of the transformer. No shot from any sniper rifle this time; this came from her own pistol. While she remembers that moment and the feeling of that moment, she is no longer that same person she was in the North.

She gets back up to her feet, only to hear more of those creepy crawlies coming from the same hallway. Patches does not hesitate and activates the forcefield right away. As it is generated from within and expands outwards, those nasty bastards are vaporized in a glorious, if eerily satisfying way. Hearing the momentary panic topped off by the brief but painful shrieks before they disappear forever.

Patches then takes a step back as the whole transformer is now fully protected. She calls it in before she takes off the last required one. With PAL's assistance and her transparent screen down to adjust her movements accordingly, it almost feels like she is cheating. Almost like there is no battle at all going on around her. As she merrily ice skates past and through death and destruction. She is even tempted to put her hands behind her back.

Is this it? Is this the moment she has officially lost it? Feeling this comfortable on the battlefield, that evading falling shells while maneuvering around the corpses of fallen, brutalized enemies? Has she become this used to it? Or even numb to it? Has she truly lost what Trevor admires her despite all of the Nova 7 kerfuffle?

No… it could not be. Otherwise she would not be thinking about this. The violence has not gotten any less grizzly; she just knows now how to process it better. Instead of falling back into what she was before, she is a new person now. And that is good.

With renewed vigor and trust in herself, she has managed to spot the third one. Before a warning of an incoming shell pops up on her screen along with directions to avoid it. Easy enough. But then another warning comes in. Followed by another and even more after. The directions twist and turn each time to adapt before it cuts out completely and is replaced by a big fat "STOP".

Patches jams her heels into the ashy snow below and comes to stop. She looks up and sees that the Cornerian cannons have started to cluster ammunition. Spinning around their own- and other invisible axle, they descend quickly.

She dives away behind some cover as the transformer she had in mind, is pummeled by a good number of those shells. Despite the toughness of those machines, this bombardment is too much for them. The shell around it cracks and the roof of the structure collapses in on itself. Only causing turmoil on the inside, as that very valuable electricity vital for the drill is now shooting out of the transformer like an out of control tesla coil. It is both beautiful, with its blue hue but also dreadful as it cracks like lightning.

As the explosions do not spare anything but her now automatically covered ears, she lets out an expletive before calling out for another target. PAL responds right away by locating a fourth one and Patches can see it with thermal vision through the smoke.

"Got it!" she exclaims before popping up from cover and skating away using her special module.

Meanwhile around her the battle goes on. Even if she is going extremely fast, her perception almost feels like it is in slow-motion.

Above her, is a stream of tracers coming from Kip's heavy barreled SAW rifle. A stream of both yellow and red she perceives as those lights that were hung up at the feast the then-Captain Rothlinghe had organized to celebrate the total liberation of Corneria City. What a feast that was. It felt so well deserved, especially after all the trouble he put herself and Trevor through. Even Kip and Calamity for that matter

The memory shifts to later that night with the hospitable bedding temporarily left behind her. So many new faces she got to know and befriend. Making her glow like never before. That pleasant burning feeling; yellow and red when visualized. Those same colored lights were still burning in the distance. And that is when that madlad Trevor actually managed to reunite her with her mother. As if she could not be any more thankful to him already.

She can then feel someone looking right at her. Following her every step even despite her speed. While she would have identified it as "something" in the past, it has become very clear that he is not a normal machine. He is alive, kept secure and alive inside his triangular metal floating casing. And despite the fact that he is clearly still shooting at Anglars all around him, with the AES emote light emitting nothing but pure blackened hatred, the snap-moment he lays his red eye on her, it turns green. For that one split-second. If she would have blinked, she would have missed it.

With Patches it all falls into place. Sometimes, it is those small things that can trigger the largest responses. And it makes her realize that this is truly where she belongs. With her 1, her two best girl-friends, the crazy if soft-hearted vulpine and his mad A.I./mutated Aparoid by her side… yeah, she belongs here for sure.

With the biggest smile on her face and her soul filled with determination to not let any of them down, she manages to reach the fourth transformer. All the span of mere seconds over a distance of at least several kilometers.

Details do not matter however as she practically rips off the protective cover of the access panel and gets the transformer operational. She steps back and watches as the force field envelops it. Securing guaranteed power for the drill, which is now spinning up and descending down into the hole to clear the debris.

"Patch! Well done!" Trevor calls out when he sees this happening.

"Get back here; the moment that drill is done, we're going through."

She nods, knowing she is in his crosshairs as she speeds back to the platform in order to assist any of the other members until they can be picked back up. Meanwhile, Trevor relays the good news that the drill is in operation and they will be down there soon.

The Major compliments them on their good work despite their own artillery making their presence there hell. But he gets interrupted by Nelson, who has managed to trace a radio message sent out by the Anglars.

"There's a reason why they blocked it off; they found it! They found the device!"

---

- The Last Stretch

- Taking The Plunge

Back aboard and looking like she has been through an active coal plant, Patches takes her seat in the Blue Marine. Just like everyone else. Trevor is the last to strap himself down as he needed to double-check everyone else before anything else. He sits down before saying that this is it.

"Good luck everyone."

It is both somber and yet appropriate considering the situation. They are going into freezing cold waters inside of a submarine that barely survived the previous underwater mission. If it was not for Nelson's constant monitoring of the integrity, they might have to think about suddenly imploding. Now at least they can get a play-by-play before that happens.

Cynical viewpoints aside, they are still Nova 7. Corneria's best of the best, tasked with finishing the mission. Get that device and turn the tide of the war. To finally eradicate the Anglar threat from existence. And considering their track record, they have been in worse situations.

PAL then calls out to hang on, as they will be going vertical soon. They will be dropped like an unguided bomb sliding precisely through the hole until they reach the water. Thresher is repositioned as PAL calculates the trajectory until it is pitch perfect. The lock at the front of the Blue Marine is loosened before the lock at the back does the same.

The sudden shock reminds a few of a theme park ride. Like one of those free-fall machines. It gives Trevor the shivers, due to it triggering his vertigo as he imagines himself being in one of those things.

Then the front lock lets go. Very soon after, so does the lock at the back. All according to plan, the Blue Marine falls freely down. Barreling down at excessive speeds. The team can see the ground coming closer and closer, faster and faster. Before they pass through it as the hole is just wide enough for the ship.

Inside, the situation is tense. G-forces are keeping the strapped to their seats and are forcing their facial muscles into arguably very funny expressions. No doubt they would be laughing if they saw it from an outside perspective. When experiencing it however, it feels hellish. Combined with the discomforting scraping sounds of the rough and sometimes pointy walls of the shaft grinding against the hull, it is an unpleasant experience.

Then each of the members get a free demonstration of why they have to wear their safety seatbelts as the nose of the ship hits the water below and quickly loses its velocity. Although some complain of sudden stop in hushed words, they are happy it is over. The engines are turned on, as well as the lights.

"Whew… everyone still okay?" Trevor checks as he looks around.

He can see everyone holding up their thumbs.

"Good. Jeez… Tacker Field, do you copy?"

"Yes, we do Sergeant! Had a pleasant dive?" the Lieutenant asks amused.

"I'd recommend it for sure. Refreshes the mind terribly well." Trevor retorts before turning back to seriousness again.

"We're all intact, if dirty. But we are now on our way to the underwater installation. Nelson, how's our ship holding up?"

"29%. You should really avoid any confrontations or narrow passages for now."

"Noted." PAL answers as he tries to observe as far ahead as possible in this foggy water.

"Any update on that Anglar message?" Patches asks.

"We've traced it to the location marked on your tactical map. Very likely that the facility you're going to is there too."

The Major then steps in.

"We'll continue to monitor the chatter; you all focus on getting there in one piece. Also, Trevor; could you check if you have your camera equipment turned on?"

Trevor is surprised by this request, not expecting that question to come from the Major. Now interested, he checks and he finds that he indeed had it turned off. He apologizes for the issue and switches it on. The connection that Nelson worked so hard on to establish, has now been made instantaneously.

"Better?" Trevor asks as now Tacker Field can see the image on the CID's camera.

With it, all other CID's and PAL begin broadcasting as well. Nelson is about ready to shrivel up into himself; it really was that easy. The Major chuckles once, vindicated that was right about something he has practically no knowledge on. But he does not rub the shrew's nose into it; instead encouraging him to keep up the good work. And also suggesting that he could always call him in for basic tech support.

Nelson, appreciating the humor, gets his fingers on the keyboard again as the focus of the interaction returns to Nova 7. The Lieutenant points out that he can see something in the distance from PAL's camera view.

"PAL, confirm you are seeing a structure in the distance? To your northeast about uh… 15 degrees I would say."

"Adjusting… confirmed. Is that the target building?"

"We suspect so, PAL. You are not deep enough to encounter the bottom just yet. However, we are getting more readings on the sensors. Can you confirm this as well?"

"One moment, Lieutenant." PAL excuses as he shifts to the radar view, but not finding anything.

He switches over to the motion tracker and sees what the avian was referring to.

"Confirmed. Nelson, am I correct in the statement that this sea is incapable of sustaining life?"

Nelson ticks very fast as fetches all the information about Fichina's waters. And he can confirm that the sea is simply too cold and too polluted to sustain any life other than microscopic organisms.

"Understood. Then we have a problem; unidentified boogies ahead." he states with a serious tone, alerting the rest still inside.

In no mood to take even more damage, PAL activates the weapons and dives even deeper downwards, almost at a 90 degree angle. With the throttle held down hard to try and avoid what is incoming.

Whatever is coming, is not impressed by the maneuver as they close in regardless. PAL has no other choice but to face them ahead on. He runs through the whole system to see what control surfaces it has and what else the submarine is capable of. And much like a Star Fox Arwing, it is capable of doing the exact same things underwater.

With a foreboding warning given to the rest of the team, PAL pulls up and aims straight for the targets. Switching his own view to that of heat vision and locating what look like people wearing suits and armed with unknown weaponry. Along with torpedo-shaped vehicles they are holding on to.

"Anglars." he says to himself as he starts to recognize the silhouette and equipment.

"Enemy contact ahead; engaging!"

Before anyone can react, PAL steers the ship towards the group on the right and puts his proverbial foot down on the pedal. While also pressing the fire button and barrel rolling like mad. The Anglars had not expected this brazen move and they start to panic. In response, the group on the left tries to adjust their projectile to track the Blue Marine. But at the speed the submarine is charging at the other group in, along with the need to compensate for the panic with their comrades, causes them to let the torpedo go too late.

And as it shoots by, missing its target by hundreds of meters, their colleagues are blown up when the lasers strike the warhead of the torpedo. The circular shockwave is visible, along with a red outline as the blood of their former comrades creates a ring of death around it. One which the Blue Marine zooms through, coating its chafed and damaged hull in a ruby red. With the only defining mark, being the black outline on the now literal blood-red "7" on the side of the ship. The auto turret on top snaps towards the other group and that number is the last thing they see before a bright light encases them into total darkness forever.

The motion sensor still beeps with boogies; PAL guesses that they have not learned their lesson just yet. So much like Trevor, he has to be the corrective teacher. Although, he sees himself rather as a vintage school headmaster. The one that dresses and talks like the Lieutenant, but instead of wearing the velvet glove, holds a sharp-edged wooden ruler to smack unruly children. It seems to be the only way these Anglar hooligans will learn their lessons. It is almost a shame they cannot put their new knowledge into practice.

"Four more targets around you." the Lieutenant warns.

"Consider them all dead." PAL answers with passionate venom behind his words.

"Specialist Patches, could you operate the turret in the meantime?"

There is a moment of doubt within the bunny, before she unbuckles herself and stands up from her seat. Maneuvering her way through the rest of her team before reaching the inside of the turret up top. She takes her position as she switches it over to manual mode. Her transparent screen flips down and PAL has already provided her with the necessary tools to assist her. And although she appreciates it and will use it, she grabs the firing controls with gusto and trusts in herself. She will gun them all down off her own accord mostly.

This time however, the Anglars take the advantage and launch their torpedoes first. Trying to predict where the Blue Marine will go. And to make sure it stays in their path, they begin to open fire with their weapons.

Patches and PAL, undeterred, return fire. As PAL darts over to the right to avoid the torpedo on the left altogether, leaving Patches to deal with the two middle ones. He does have to avoid the gunfire for obvious structural reasons. The size of the ship is limiting this however, as despite trying and calculating extensively, he can only maneuver in such a way that the amount of impacts are limited.

"Patches. Please aim true; we cannot continue to take this amount of punishment." PAL reports as he himself gets to destroying the torpedo coming at them.

Patches herself is almost tempted to pull a Trevor but she keeps it holstered for now.

"Same to you, PAL. I'm suppressing those bastards already, just keep it up."

As she continues to fire, she manages to hit the midsection of one of the torpedoes and ruptures it. Water pours in, which weighs it down and it starts to veer away and down towards the bottom. That is one down. When she goes to report it, she instead hears that their own hull has been breached; water is coming into their vessel from the back left. It is not a lot, but that can soon change.

"I got this!" Kip cries out assuringly as she unbuckles herself.

"I've dealt with this kind of leaks before. Call it mercenary experience. All I ask is that you keep this ship as steady as possible or I'll be flung all across."

With PAL in agreement, Kip stands up from her seat and goes to see to that leak. She can quickly see that it is coming from the outside, obviously, but that the water is only leaking in because the protective ring around the hold has been flooded. Activating the pumps will do the trick.

"Activating now. Thank you for the assistance Kip. Please be seated again; we are not out of this yet."

The water begins to drain away and the 'roo takes her seat again. Getting a thumbs up from Trevor in the meantime. Then she calls out encouragingly to Patches to shoot them all down as she looks out of the porthole as the torpedo that was thrown off-course begins to spin uncontrollably before detonating.

Patches accepts the given compliment as she focuses the barrel on the second target. At the front, PAL has succeeded in evading the torpedo fired at their front and is now shooting at the personnel that let it loose at first. As the torpedo shoots away underneath them, followed by the missed shots of the Anglars, PAL exacts his revenge by blowing them all away. Their underwater suits nor their fleeing is any match for the plasma bolts being fired from the blood-coated Blue Marine.

The last of them looks behind him once his radio falls after one last scream of a comrade being vaporized by a superheated blue projectile. Although brief, the anguish that Anglar had in their last moments of life, shakes him to his very core. And now he lays his eyes on his own doom. Something that was so far away before and seemed like such an easy target at the time.

Dripping with the blood of his former comrades, with bits and pieces falling off, firing on all cylinders and with all guns, the red-eyed captain of this monstrosity is now targeting him specifically. He can almost feel the hatred radiating from it, despite it looking so metallic and cold. Could it be the black light it shines out like a spotlight? Or the fact that it has stopped firing and instead goes on a ramming course!

His eyes open up wide and he extends out his arms in a feeble attempt to stop this metal beast. To his right, the last torpedo that had a chance to stop it, is shot down by the turret at the top. He can hear it exploding as he can see the shockwave in the right corner of his eyes. It is over. And just before he would have been able to realize this, the Blue Marine's bow smashes itself into the rib cage followed by the jaw. Effectively uppercutting the fool to death.

After having treated the enemy like a bug to the windshield, PAL viciously turns to the left where the remainder of the Anglar forces remain. Clearly they are the most fanatical as they are charging at the ship with their weapons already firing. The Blue Marine does not back away from that challenge and with the support of those inside, the ship punches it and unleashes all of its firepower.

- Timing

Red and cracked marble halls with its collapsed arches lay canted to the left. With more debris scattered all across the floor. The light that was shining outside has already been put out while above, the seas resemble an ongoing whirlpool with a tornado inside. Wildly splashing and roaring. The ceiling is now pretty much the floor or vice versa and maneuvering through it has become nothing but a chore. No matter the insignia or royal title, all feel small in the decrepit state of the building. The throne room has already been evacuated and with his clear insignia, distinguishing himself as a successful General in comparison to his predecessors, he has managed to escort the Emperor out thus far. Placing him in a more stable part of the building.

Now sitting, just for the moment, on a fallen pillar, is the throneless but very much alive Anglar Emperor. Lord and proud ruler of all Anglar kind. Despite all of the projections and the changes on the battlefield, he holds hope that the situation on Fichina will be resolved.

The door to the room then opens. The royal guards aim their weapons but they lower them when the General enters and closes the door behind him on his own. He looks weathered but still alive. And he has some news to bring, both good and bad.

"Start with the bad." the Emperor commands.

"Then I will, your Majesty. That White Out unit, identified as N7 or Nova 7, has been spotted on the Ninsov plateau and they have already entered the waters underneath Fichina's ice caps. Our underwater troops have already engaged them, last thing I heard. Then again, that was some minutes ago already. Communication with the outside world is not… perfect."

"I see…"

The Emperor wanted to come off as sure of himself that those troops would be able to stop that Cornerian team but so far it has had little effect. Who knows where they are right now at this moment.

"So what is the good news?"

"Our efforts to secure Sector X have been successful. Even with Star Fox's interference in matters, we are holding against the Cornerian Fleet. And to top it all off, the device has been secured and will soon be off-planet."

The Emperor glows up completely. He drops down from the pillar and approaches his General close. He puts both his hands on the man's shoulders.

"I could kiss you right about now! Well done, my General. Well done. Once this is all over, be assured that you will go far. I will see to it personally. But for now, we must tend to what is important. As soon as the package is off-planet, so we will leave alongside it."

He looks over to one of the guards.

"Ready my ship! So we can leave once we have confirmation."

The guard clicks his heels together, bows and excuses himself. It is but a matter of time before he can return to Venom and be secure in the knowledge that no Cornerian ship could ever strike them in his caustic ocean.

- Fog Of War

Metal shards, like shredded shed skin, float freely through the cold water of Fichina. Along with the remnants of what were once weapons and living Anglars. Now nothing more but scrap and burned limbs. Left in the wake of Nova 7's submarine, which admittedly has seen better days.

Gravely wounded but still operational, the machine has received the total confidence of its occupants. With the coast clear, Patches emerges from the turret and receives much adoration for the team for her assistance. Including PAL of course.

"Tacker Field, come in. 7-1 here. All enemies defeated." Trevor reports.

"Copy that, Trevor. Well done."

"Wasn't me, Sir. 7-2 and 7-6 got us through."

"Then they shall be commended appropriately. For now, proceed to the building and get that device." the Major orders with a proud tinge behind his voice.

"Understood. PAL, bring us over to it."

Without any reply, the ship is steered towards the waypoint that was previously marked out. The engines roar triumphantly as the Blue Marine approaches the building. It slowly comes into view, looking like a football stadium with its roof up. And it also seems that all entrances have closed as they approach.

"Alright, same as last time. Gas masks on and safeties off." Trevor orders as the Blue Marine stops at a good position.

The umbilical extends from the right side and makes contact with the building with a satisfying klunk. In celebration of this, a multitude of magazines are checked and bolts are racked. All seatbelts are taken off and the team emerges from their seats and line up at the tunnel.

"That is it. No one dies. Nova 7?"

"Forever." is replied right back but in a more hushed way, considering the proximity to the enemy.

Trevor leads his team through the tunnel but finds that the door ahead is not budging. He sighs disappointed at the lack of decency on behalf of those fish. So he kindly asks PAL to try "knocking". Which the A.I. will gladly show off. His barrels were already warming up and now they can let loose.

Super-heated plasma burns its way through quickly and they are in. However, they are instantly greeted with a plume of white smoke which blinds them temporarily. All go prone to avoid any oncoming fire; whether it be gunfire or actual fire. Switching over to heat vision shows it is not coming from any fire; it is a gas.

Happy that they have their masks on, they give their own welcome greeting in the shape of several grenades thrown in the direction of the enemy. With it, invisible especially in this thick gassy fog, Phantom rolls out. As the explosives disorient or send Anglars flying from cover, those who remain quickly find their throats slit.

Feeling the same panic that their comrades in the sea felt creeping up, the rest of the Anglars start firing in the blind. They can hear their projectiles hitting something hard. And they can see that something hard is actively ricocheting them away as it closes in. Within the blink of an eye, the hard object is revealed to be Calamity's shield as she gives an Anglar an extreme close-up. Close enough to break the helmet, followed by the nose and then the rest of the skull. The Anglar is slammed to the ground before that same shield is smashed down into the stomach, nearly cleaving the fish in two. All the air is forced out of him and that is all he wrote.

On the other side, another Anglar has completely lost it. Having lost his vision equipment thanks to one of the grenades, he is shooting in random directions while screaming in terror. Hoping to hit something or someone. Then he hears the clicking of his own weapon; he is out of ammunition.

While he tries to reload, he notices the complete and utter silence in this thick gas. Which works both calming as well as alarming. He is all alone. At least it feels that way. He tries to look ahead as much as possible but he has to switch to this weapon as his shaking hands have a particular problem with putting in a fresh magazine. After snapping back and forth a few times, he can exhale relieved when the magazine is finally accepted. He racks the bolt and looks up. Right into the barrel of Trevor's revolver.

The trigger is pulled the moment the horror has returned in full. And then wiped away as a hole is blown straight through his face. As the now dead Anglar falls to the ground, Trevor steps past him while calling on his team to push on; the next room will hold even more of them.

"Tacker Field, we're in. Gas masks will remain on; we've been greeted with a thick fog. Can you guys see anything at all?"

"Negative Trevor, your cameras are not equipped for this kind of environment. Do you think you can find a way to drain that gas away?"

Trevor looks around to see anything that resembles a computer or something with a screen. Then instructs PAL to find something similar. It does not take the A.I. too long to find a terminal. He makes sure to plug himself in and within a few seconds, he breaks through the ancient firewall of the system.

"That is why you should always update your computer security." he says to himself as a free PSA to no one in particular.

"Activating ventilation."

As the gas is sucked into the activated vents, the air literally clears up as Patches is glad she does not have to crawl through them. When it all clears out, Trevor tests the air with another scan. It quickly shows that the air is breathable and non-toxic. Which is a relief because breathing these masks is not the most comfortable thing. Especially for Phantom, given his already pre-existing condition.

"Masks off but keep your eyes open." Trevor orders as everyone follows it.

Ahead, they see one big door. Behind it, very likely, are a ton of dug-in Anglars eager to avenge their comrades. With PAL tapped into the system, they confirm this as true. Barricades galore as well as something that looks like a big turret just enough in frame to be visible. But what they can also see, are a similar set of vents. Which gives Kip a brilliant if diabolical idea.

"Say PAL. That gas that you just filtered away, can you pour it into the next room and then clear it out once we come in?" she suggests.

PAL's emote light goes very green as he turns slowly towards her. Almost like he cannot believe the evil genius of that plan coming from her.

"What an amazing idea. Re-routing the remaining gas to the room ahead. Enjoy the show." PAL says as he makes it work.

With all of them watching the narrow screen, they are so excited or curious that neither suggests using some kind of livestream. PAL of course does but he likes this kind of closeness. Lest he might ruin the mood. Even back at Tacker Field, everyone in the War Room is leaning forward to get a better look.

Inside the room ahead, the vent folds open up with an audible creak. Before the noise of an air pump fills the room along with the white gas. The swirling way it crawls over the floor reminds one of dry ice. And it sends the Anglars into a frenzy. As they quickly search for something to cover their mouths with but they quickly succumb to the mind-affecting effects of the gas itself. Grabbing their stomachs, their heads or their own necks as the pain happens in different places in different people. Sweet justice, where Nova 7 is concerned. A taste of their own medicine.

As the last of the Anglars fall down, it quickly becomes clear that the turret is still operational. And it is looking for the perpetrators that did this.

"It's very likely that the fishbrain is gonna put one and one together. Stand back from the door but be ready to pour through once it stops. Everyone, remember your training and what you're carrying with you."

- Bunker Buster

A mighty explosion rocks the foundations of the wall, bulging it as the door is launched from its frame. It crumples up like paper against the wall on the side of the room. With the white smoke pouring out generated, it provides some cover as the gun recharges from such a powerful shot. Even if it sucked away quickly in the room it enters through.

But what is their cover, is also the cover for the invading force. Out of the smoke, a bourbon brown kangaroo in her signature gray attire comes running. In her two hands, over which she has deployed her armored fists, she is holding two of the portable shields. Like throwing a bowling ball, she tosses them over the ground and ahead of her they deploy. She then engages in a slide and just about evades the oncoming fire as she is now safe and sound behind her shield.

With blinding speed, Patches with PAL attached to her back, runs in and plants herself behind the second shield. From which both can fire at the turret. The force field around it is strong however, shrugging off even Kip's bigger caliber. So PAL gives it a try with his starfighter graded gun. With the barrels already spun up, he detaches from the bunny's back and zips over into a completely different direction to throw off the aim.

Behind them, in the meantime, the rest of the team has trickled in. With Trevor and Phantom taking cover behind two pillars that resemble a slim stack of rocks imprisoned between tall metal bars. On the left and on the right of the turret's gun barrel respectively. While Calamity, trusting her shield, is going all the way to the right.

Then PAL opens fire. And although his projectiles are much heavier and more powerful, the force field holds up. Despite recoiling significantly. The turret pilot notices right away and it instantly snaps to PAL. Almost like it is also assisted by an A.I., which at the very least was unexpected.

It is now machine versus machine. PAL evades the shots with relative ease but he inflicts no damage. It is not until Calamity starts flashing with her projection module, temporarily concussing the pilot. This makes the turret A.I. mess up and firing erratically. To such a degree, that PAL can no longer predict where it will shoot. So he chooses for the safe option and takes cover behind Patches' back.

Seeing this problem, Trevor asks PAL for other options to deal with the thing. PAL brings up that he noticed that the force field is impenetrable by even their combined firepower. However, it is held up by a generator that is unprotected. It is right behind the turret however, making it hard to damage.

"Phantom!" Trevor calls out.

"You heard your friend; sneak around the back and terminate that shield!"

The white vulpine nods and activates his camouflage. He emerges from his cover and sneaks around the side where Calamity is. Making a wide corner around it to avoid any attention whatsoever, as that thing has a sensitivity to quick motions as seen with it snapping on to PAL regardless of the direction he zipped to.

So slightly hunched over and sneak-walking as fast as possible he goes around it. At that moment, the pilot wakes up from his concussion. Although not still 100% there, he can see that a new target has been sighted by the observant computer. He does not see anything in his reticle however. Until he turns on heat vision and sees a vague silhouette. Impressed by the technology that shields the Cornerian from radiating heat, he has to kill him anyway.

Phantom is then shocked when the gun barrel points right at him. He forgoes any sneakiness and instead goes on a run. The turret opens fire and is literally hot on his heels. Trevor calls out for his friend to run like hell and for the rest to try and suppress that turret. Calamity's module is still recharging however and she can see the chase happening up close. Feeling powerless to stop it.

And then the worst thing happens; a shot lands near Phantom's feet, knocking him off those and making him slam down on the floor. The pain is instant and he might have dislocated something thanks to the awkward placement of his hand during the ungraceful landing. He tries to get back up but all he sees in return is the turret charging up a shot. A similar shot that had propelled a metal door like a spitball and bulged the wall it was previously a part off. Sure, neither of them were too thick, but it was still powerful enough to do it. And now, he will be receiving the full brunt of it.

All the span of mere seconds, he can see the charging plasma turn from blue, to yellow, to orange and to red. It is at its hottest now, almost resembling a miniature Solar. And all he can think of in these last moments, is that he finally has too much to live for. But the turret gunner does not care; with glee he lets go of the charging shot and fires it right at the still invisible arctic vulpine.

The high-pitched, ear-ringing noise might be the worst thing he may ever have left to hear. The closer it gets, the louder it gets too. He can hear something else in what feels like a far distance but he can only focus on the death coming for him.

And then it gets dark right after he hears a massive explosion go off. It is a dance of different colored infernos swirling all around. White, blue, yellow, orange and red. He does not feel any pain whatsoever despite him definitely being ripped apart by the heat at a microscopic level. He feels normal; that unforgiving ground below him and his heart still beating fast from the stress.

He opens his eyes and looks right into the back of a chocolate brown dog. With a massively thick bushy tail that is kept together neat and tight by two darker brown bands. He does not need much more to identify her; as if the massive black shield was not enough. It is Calamity and she just saved his life.

In the span of very important seconds, she managed to not only take position right in front of him, but to also set up her shield, jam it into the ground and then take the entire charge on herself without leaving her position from behind it. She held the literal fort down.

Not without consequences; the front of her shield has seen better days, with the upper layer being burned away and smoking. Her module functionality has been severely hampered. The black paint has peeled away, even on the sides. And the vision slit has been cracked so bad, it is impossible to see through. Calamity has herself looks roughed up but she still stands. The shield still stands, unbroken.

And she looks behind herself and is relieved for a moment that Phantom is not injured. Then she turns more serious and tells him to get back to cover now. Knowing better than to argue with her, Phantom gets up to his feet and runs back to his earlier cover. As he looks behind him, he can see Calamity rip her shield from the ground and then by using the butt of her shotgun, breaks the cracked glass completely so she can see through it again. She flips the shotgun around one-handed, shoves the barrel through the recently made hole and opens fire to cover him even more. If he was not so gay for that nerdy shrew, he would have fallen in love right there.

Trevor is glad to see both still alive but he is getting really sick of that turret and its deadly tricks. He turns to PAL for a plan.

"Hey PAL! Remember our first ever mission? How we angled was that shot?"

"I do. Memory present in location… I mean, yes I do. But I did not bring any rifle grenades."

Trevor holds up his revolver with the underbarrel SunburstTM slug launcher and lifts up his eyebrow.

"... Understood. Calculating… got it. Elevation. 79 degrees from 0 degrees horizontal. Direction 351."

Trevor follows the directions given, already mentally projecting the stance in head.

"Perfect. From this distance, do you think I'll hit that?"

"100% chance. No wind. No potential dispersion possible. The bounce against the ceiling has been taken into account."

Trevor cannot help but chuckle.

"I'm so glad you got a proper voicebox now, buddy."

"Same here, Sir."

"Good. Then let's do this. I'll take left, you take right. Patch! Kip! Cover my fox ass; I'm about to melt that asshole's generator."

The two ladies give a nod in return.

"Right. On my mark, no mercy. 1 is given; go nuts. … Now!"

The brief pause gave all the participants time to take a deep breath before providing covering firing. Kip puts her SAW rifle on top of her shield as a support and pulls the trigger. Not letting go. Patches emerges from her shield, activating her module and darting all over the place. Then PAL pokes out from the pillar and opens fire on it as well. With too many fast targets to track, the turret's computer cannot properly focus. Especially when charging up for the next powerful shot.

The turret pilot makes the most logical decision then; go for the stationary one. The barrel snaps to Kip just as Trevor emerges from behind the pillar too. All he can do is see Kip duck behind her shield just in time before the big shot.

The impact is enormous once again. Burning with a violent, passionate fury. But unlike with Calamity's shield, the portable one disintegrates. Sending the 'roo flying from the blast and landing several meters back. There is a moment of brief shock with Trevor as his eyes follow the flight of his partner until she hits the ground hard.

That shock turns right into hatred as he aims his revolver, and by proxy his launcher as well and strikes the firing pin. The satisfying thumping sound comes through and the slug shoots up. Like predicted, it hits the ceiling and bounces off. Going over the turret and ending up splattered all over the generator.

In the background, Patches has raced over to pick Kip off from the floor. And she thanks the stars that the moment she lifts her friend's head up, she moans much like she does when she has to get up from her pillow fort she calls a bed. Calamity has also joined in and plants her battered shield in the way of any more potential harm.

"Kip, you good to go?"

"Hrrgg… that guy… will pay." she hisses with her ears all the way back.

At that moment, Trevor's slug has delivered the desired effect. Quickly blackening smoke, followed by bursts of electricity and a loud bang confirm this. And then the force field begins to fall apart and pull away into nothingness. Kip, still thrusting for revenge, demands to be brought up to her feet. And then tells Patches and Calamity to hurl her in her entirety at that bastard; her fists are hungry for revenge.

Although the idea is comically daft and dangerous, they are not going to argue with a mercenary who has been through worse. They bring her closer while the turret pilot now has to keep his head down as his everything-proof shield no longer works. Once close enough, both ladies hold on to Kip. And with Patches' speed and Calamity's power, they hurl the 'roo right at the turret.

The gunfire stops for obvious reasons. And when the turret pilot looks back up, all he can see for a moment is Kip's two armored fists coming at his vehicle. As if she has been shot out of a cannon, with enough speed and power to crash her way through the metal of the turret. Her fists impact with the metal, dent and then shear straight through it. The impact, along with the damage she does, causes the whole structure to flip up as Kip disappears into it. Only to come out at the back. Landing into a roll but without any further scratches. Just the panting from the adrenaline.

The rearing up of the machine causes the pilot to be thrown out. Like a thrown-off horseman, he lands hard on his back and loses his sense of self for a moment. Groaning in pain. But he quickly tries to get up when he sees the person who destroyed his favorite toy is having her back turned towards him.

His eager hand reaches for his sidearm as he can already picture emptying the magazine into her back with sick glee. Only to receive a kick to the side of his head and a knife pushed against his throat.

Deactivating his active camouflage, Phantom appears in front of him. Only inches from his face. And he does not look happy. One wrong move and the knife will cut through until it hits bone. Still defiant, he looks around to see if he can get out of this situation but he soon finds that all six members of Nova 7 are standing over him. Smugly smiling at him.

- Clockwork

The Anglar, knowing that he has lost and finding some comfort in that he held off the Cornerian invaders for as long as possible, imitates the grins given to him as he relaxes.

"Right. You got me. What are you going to do now?"

Trevor kneels down beside his head, with his left arm draped on top of the raised knee with his wrist held limp.

"Nothing odd. I'm just gonna ask you some questions. First question; that device you found. Where it is?"

The Anglar cackles, making fun of the poor intelligence situation they must have. Trevor looks over at Phantom and without skipping a beat, the arctic vulpine knows exactly what needs to be done; making him focus. Phantom puts the knife in his mouth with the blade sticking out sideways. And now, with his hand free, it forms into a fist that smashes right into the Anglars helmet. Hard enough to crack the glass and causes the Anglar's head to bob back and forth. Hitting his head at least twice. The concussive effect of that, sours any attempt at cackling.

"Right. Let's try that again. This device. Location. Now." Trevor asks again but more curt as the knife is placed back on the fish's neck.

"Urg… fine. It's at the back last time I checked. All the way at the back. But you'll never get your hands on it."

Trevor does not have time for that sarcastic guy. He turns to Patch and sends her out there.

"Take PAL with you as a portable radar and keep your eyes open. Go!"

With the order received, she nods and gestures PAL to come over. He makes haste and attaches himself to the back of her CID. And before long, she speeds off. Trevor then returns to the Anglar.

"Now, second question. What is the purpose of this place?"

"This place? Oh, it was a testing facility from our Creator. He meant to create suppression weapons here. Specifically, a Tremor Device. Once he would have conquered new territory, he envisioned not everyone complying right away. So, if that non-compliance were to spread to neighborhoods, villages or entire cities, the device could be activated. Either flattening the entire thing or triggering a tsunami big enough to let nature do it for us. After that, other places would think twice about rebelling." he explains while grinning about it.

"Are you restarting the manufacturing of those devices then?"

"No. It was but a concept. Our Creator was driven off Fichina before he had a chance. And then you bugs killed him."

"You're welcome." Calamity states dryly, to which the Anglar fusses.

"Do you have any more questions for me?"

Trevor stands up and gestures for Kip to come stand where he stood. He holds up his index finger for a moment and she understands.

"No, that was all. We're no longer in need of your services."

The moment he finishes his sentence, Phantom slashes the Anglar's throat from right to left. Shocked, the Anglar grabs his own throat in an effort to stop the bleeding. Then Kip bows over him and readying her fist. The hydraulic system is ready for action and soon enough she inhales and punches straight through the already cracked helmet. Her fist meeting cartilage and bones soon enough. Crushing through both with ease and literally caving in the Anglar's skull. And then the hydraulic system kicks in, smashing straight through and out the back of the Anglar's head. Pulverizing the lower side the temporal lobe, brainstem and the cerebellum as they fill up the back of the helmet like a nasty meat smoothie.

She pulls her hand out and flicks it clean. Before using the now dead man's sleeve to dry off the rest. Phantom compliments her on that gnarly punch. In turn, she appreciates his fileting skills as he uses the other sleeve to clean up his blade. With the Calamity contently watching the murderous duo share compliments as she leans on her shield.

In the background, Trevor is informing Tacker Field about the situation. And that they are closer than ever to the Anglar Device. He is told to get it as fast as possible. So he rallies the rest of his team to stop dilly-dallying and instead run after Patches. They do so, leaving the whole lobby filled with dead Anglars and destroyed equipment.

Ahead of them, Patches has been skating on. She is not going super fast as she needs to find that backroom. But also, because PAL has detected straggles somewhere still present in the base. And the last thing she wants is to run face-first into an unfriendly gun barrel.

Thanks to the machine on her back, that will not be a problem. As she considers this, she realizes that he is on her back without her having a fit about it. She can barely feel him; not because he does not weigh anything, but because he does not feel like a burden to be carried.

To think that, what feels very recently, she felt nothing but discomfort around him. That monotone, unnatural voice. The cold, metal exterior that houses the slurry of the very bugs that caused so much death and destruction across Lylat. He could not possibly be trusted. Especially because he was part of Phantom's call sign, not even his own entity. And the both were not exactly in good graces either considering what they hid from the others.

Both have atoned for that however and PAL especially has shown to be nothing but trustworthy. Given his nearly unlimited access into Tacker Field, the CID's and other Nova 7-related equipment, it would have been very easy to betray the whole team. As he already explained how he would do so in theory. But there was never any reason given to worry about that. He also stayed the course and proved loyal to the team. No matter their personal feelings towards him. Or her feelings towards him.

At what point did she stop worrying and went along with the flow? Until that trust was there? She could not tell when that moment was. All she knows, is that it started with PAL himself talking to her that one time. And eventually, she ended up in this situation.

A warning from PAL shakes her back into reality; up ahead is a hallway that leads to the left. Five straggles have been detected and they are armed. He does not need to say anything else; she draws her two pistols and activates her Wrist Fire Control. With the two pistols locked and loaded, she takes a quick breath before she takes off from the floor.

She turns to her left mid-jump and her perception enters into a state of slow-motion. With both guns aimed to the left, she patiently waits for the wall she is currently staring at to turn into a hallway filled with Anglars. Her trigger fingers already start to itch but they need to keep it in for now.

Then the hallway comes into view and soon enough the CID has identified all five Anglars, mainly targeting their big-helmeted heads. She can let go of her trigger fingers and let down to their jobs. First trigger is pulled right at the moment one of the Anglars notices her and attempts to open their mouth to shout something. But they are interrupted when one of the nasty, jagged pellets of Patches' ammunition pierces through his trachea.

As that one falls to its knees and chokes, the rest is getting peppered as well. Tearing through their suits, helmets, skin, flesh and internal organs without mercy. She is not even aiming properly, despite being shown how to effectively kill them the best. But she prefers the style and the volume of fire over this. Inflicting as much pain as possible to those freaks feels so satisfying considering what they tried to do to her. And to her friends.

Eventually, she runs out of bullets in both her magazines. Moreover, the ground is getting dangerously close now to impacting with her shoulder. She mentally prepares for it only to hear something metal claw itself into the ground beneath. She can also feel something cold And then she is suddenly floating in mid-air. At least that is how it feels for just a moment or so. Gravity kicks back in and with a dainty little push, she is put back on both feet.

Patches hears something retreat back into PAL and when she inquires if he had something to do with that, he admits that he indeed did something to help her.

"I did not want to see you hurt so I used something similar yet different. My multifunctional limb? It is quite strong once it is tensioned. And with the proper suspension, I was able to "catch" you without causing any whiplash." he explains.

"Wow. And then you put me back upright like some kind of carjack?"

"Precisely."

"And all because you didn't want to see me get hurt?"

"I detect you sound skeptical, but it is the truth."

"Wow. Well, thank you. You're not half bad at all, you know that?"

"I could try my best Nelson impression, but I would rather have you focused; your gunfire has attracted whatever Anglars are left to your position."

The mood flips right away. Patches has her WFC reload her pistols and gets right into it. She runs off as the Anglars appear as red dots on her transparent screen. However, there are quite a lot for her to handle. Even with her reflexes and speed, numbers are eventually too much. And she cannot wait for her team to catch up; time is of the essence.

"PAL. Mind giving me a hand?"

"Of course. Follow my lead."

Normally, he would have suggested an invasive procedure. Something he has with Phantom for example. But considering her past experiences with him and any type of parasitic control, be it positive or negative, he does not feel it is appropriate. This is a much better middle ground and so she accepts.

So she follows his every direction. Like going forward and stopping at the corner where the hallway goes to the right. And then at the right moment to come around that corner to ambush the approaching Anglars. With aim only a surgeon could dream off, she cuts down several squads worth. Alternating firing and reloading her pistols in perfect synchronization so it almost seems she can firing continuously without stopping.

With at least twelve cut down to size, sometimes quite literally, she presses on. Ending up at a crossroad where PAL detects Anglars coming from all three upcoming sides. And right behind her as well. With very short hallways all around. Meaning that she will have to alternate, leaving at least two directions without a gun pointed to it.

PAL reminds her that she is not the only one bearing arms and that he can literally go back to back with her if necessary. Patches accepts this plan and takes position in the middle of the crossroad. Pointing her guns in a nine o'clock position while PAL detaches and gets his own gun out.

Several seconds of calm begin. With the Nova 7 members keeping their focus as they listen to the running heavy boots come running towards them. They are coming for them but they have no idea what kind of punishment is awaiting.

"Let it be said before anything out of the ordinary happens; I have registered you as "friend" internally. I hope you do not mind." PAL admits.

"Really? Since when?"

"... the tunnels." he admits with a tone which is terrifyingly close to bashful.

"Brave choice. But I'll make you a deal; if we survive this, you can make that registration permanent."

PAL's green light goes full green before turning back to the more serious blue. The enemy is coming.

…

"Three o'clock!" PAL shouts out.

Patches turns to her right and without a doubt pulls the trigger, killing one on each side. PAL, detecting her turn follows her movement perfectly so he always and literally has her back. As he does, he opens up himself. The three barrels start spinning and let it rip. Whether it be through walls or flesh, matters not.

"Nine!"

The mentioning of o' clock is not necessary anymore as Patches turns back to the left, following the same pattern as before, gunning down those already stumbling over the corpses of their foolish comrades. As behind her, PAL creates a fresh new pile.

"Quarter to six!"

A quick shift to her left as a blaster bolt barely misses the back of her head. With one pull of the trigger, the perpetrator is banished to the afterlife as her right hand receives a freshly reloaded pistol.

"Quarter to three!"

Now they are really pouring through to her immediate west and east. She pulls the trigger until both her magazines are empty. While the WFC is reloading it without issue, PAL tells her to go prone right now. She has to nearly make a split in a split-second but manages to lie flat on her chest. As PAL snaps to her north and mows down another impressive number.

The more fall, the more seem to come at them. And judging by a quick look at their outfits, they do look more excessive. With golden trim and decorations. Almost royal to a degree. Leading her to believe that these guys are fanatical enough to mindlessly throw themselves at them.

She can see one final push coming towards them. And it is coming from all directions again. They will likely think them to be in the exact same place as before. So Patches thinks of an idea as she looks up at the ceiling as a lightbulb begins burning.

From all the hallways, the boots are heard trampling the ground beneath. They even sound oppressive, like only the forces of an imperial tyrant could. Like war drums. And they are coming closer and closer, nearing the crossroad. They are already shouting obscenities and proclaiming their Emperor as the righteous ruler of Lylat. They will die slowly or beg for relief at the Emperor's feet. Which one it will be, remains unclear to her.

Not that it matters; the moment the crossroad comes into view, the moment the barrels of their guns even as much as peek about a millimeter around the corner, the triggers are pulled. It matters not if their own comrades are on the receiving end; as long as the inferior Cornerian dies.

But as the gunfire dies down and those hit with friendly fire fall dead on the ground, they see that the Cornerian has disappeared. Confused, they wonder which side let them through. Maybe they sank through the floor? One of them mentioned that one of them could turn invisible so they should keep on firing.

That inquisitive one gets a smack on the back of the helmet; they could not have missed something like that. All the walls and even the floor that each side faces has been coated in burn marks and bullet holes.

They move in closer, carefully keeping their eyes focused down their sides. Not knowing that the closer they get, the closer death from above is coming. Because on the ceiling, is Patches sticking. Waiting like a predator for its prey to come into view and then strike. With PAL reattached to her back but also waiting for the moment to decouple.

The Anglars attempt to pour into the room but that is the moment she was waiting for. Her gloves let go, the WFC puts her guns back into her hands and with her boots still attached to the ceiling, the last thing any of the Anglars see, are her long ears dangling down before their helmets and skulls are pierced.

In the moment Patches lets go, PAL does the same. Free falling for a moment so he faces down to the ground directly. His targeting system locks on to a few Anglars already and after a brief spin of all three barrels, he pierces them like a hot knife through butter. He then takes position just beneath Patches' head, turning around like a murderous disco ball. With a built-in interrupter gear so he does not perforate the bunny's ears. All that is missing from this display, is ironically bad music that was popular during that time.

Nova 7's barrels stop firing once all targets have been eliminated. Some are red-hot and smoking as if they just went through a whole packet of cigars. Patches turns off her spider-mode and comes back down. As she looks up, she can only see the carnage the two of them have caused. Impressed, if at least a little bit horrified at this display of war and violence, she remembers that she cannot focus on this. PAL reattaches himself to her CID again and the two set off.

- Enemy Within

Speeding through the hallways until they reach the final room. Patches has to stop however as the way forward it is blocked off. Not by any type of barricade, but by a lot of red lasers and explosives that are scattered on the walls and the ceiling.

"What the…?" she exclaims as her mind casts itself back to that accursed hallway back at Metro.

Although in this situation, she is not afraid that some monster is behind the door ahead. Moreover, she has a few things she did not have before. Confidence, experience and technology. But the whole thing may not be very easy for the other teammates to pass by.

She observes the contraptions ahead of her. The lasers are pointed at all angles and in various directions, but they are all at about her height. The ceiling is potentially high enough for her not to hit one of the lasers. Those explosives on the other hand are another kettle of fish.

"Those lasers will trigger the explosives, setting off a chain-reaction. A wireless connection." Patches observes.

"Correct. What is your point?" PAL asks.

"Well, then why are the explosives wired to each other?"

"I admit; this is amateur work. However, it could work. Should any of the wireless receivers fail to activate the explosive inside, one that has been detonated before can still send the signal via the wire."

"Like a second chance. I see. So if we kill the lasers, we're home free. They are built into the wall so can you see if you can use your hacking skills?"

PAL listens and tries to access the network that the lasers are connected to. He quickly finds however that whatever avenues he tries, no lead to the lasers.

"Sorry, it is a closed circuit. I cannot deactivate them. However, those transmitters I am able to scramble. If you come close enough to the explosives, I can send out a pulse akin to an electromagnetic pulse to disable the electronics." he tells.

"Can't you, say, send it out like some kind of beam?"

"A focused EMP blast… interesting proposal. I will modify for this. However, for now, my earlier proposition will have to do."

Patches knows he is right. She could try to repeat what was done back at Metro, but the amount of explosives that are around, will likely cause the hallway to cave in.

"Okay…" she sighs.

"What do you think of this? I'm going to pull a stunt; run across the wall, following the most logical trail to disable as many explosives as possible." she proposes as PAL already starts calculating and planning.

Very soon, her transparent screen shows off an exact route lined out with white bars to achieve what she suggested. She grins at her own genius for once and prepares to take off. Before next to her and asking PAL what he is waiting for. Almost like he seems distracted about something.

"Hm? Oh, I do apologize. I was staring off into nothing." he excuses himself before attaching himself to her back.

"I hear that more men do that for some reason."

"I am only male-presenting, Specialist."

"Don't let Trevor hear that. He'll call you a progressive."

"Was that an attempt at humor?"

"Much like any of the Sergeant's attempts at humor?"

"Fair. Although it entertains you."

"Eh, I guess so." she passes off but with a smile that betrays her true feelings.

Then she gets ready to do her thing. Activating both her speed as well as the magnetic properties, she runs towards the lasers. Veering off to her right and making sure to get both feet solidly on the wall before she continues running, following the path set out by PAL. It leads her to pass by the explosives closely so that the A.I. can do his job. With every explosive they pass, he unleashes a small burst of electromagnetic energy. Enough to fry the internals of the receivers and render the explosives inert.

The path leads her up to the ceiling and has her make a sharp turn to the left so she can do the same to the other side without triggering the lasers. Which is not always easy because of her ears not always cooperating, instead dangling like a cowbell on a quickly loosening string. Nearly causing her to trigger one of the lasers before she whips the unruly things forward with a quick nod.

Meanwhile, she has returned to her original position as she went past all of the explosives. She has PAL recount every single one just to be sure and only when he confirms it, does she feel safe enough to pass through. The lasers still trigger the beeping noise but they do not detonate. Knowing this, she zooms through to get it all over it. And she is unharmed.

"Good. That means the rest can come through just as easy."

She then focuses on the door, which is not cooperating. So she allows PAL to use his special door-knocking technique as he practically melts the door to slag. Patches then kicks down what is still standing before entering.

The room is quite small, with only a desk off to the right, something that looks like a hardbox inside of a glass case and a console with a screen to the left. The hardbox looks like it has the right measurements for the Anglar Device, so she pistol-whips the glass and gets her hands on the box. It is attached to the pedestal it is on so she cannot lift it up. And it does not open however on the count of having no lock or latches. It is completely smooth.

PAL has already observed that the console is attached to the pedestal so he makes contact with it. It has a digital lock and a pretty gnarly looking one too. So while he gets busy with that, Patches contacts the rest of the team.

"7-2 here, we've arrived at the room all the way in the back and we have our hands on what could be the Anglar Device. It's just in some kind of hardbox; PAL is already safecracking it." she reports as she takes a breath afterwards.

"Good job Patch!" Trevor compliments.

"We're about a minute or so out." he adds.

"All hallways are cleared of enemies."

"Yes, we noticed. Fantastic job!" Kip compliments.

"It is seldom that I almost tripped over corpses I didn't create myself. You're a machine, gurl! … and so is PAL now that I think about it." Calamity praises.

"Once more, you prove you're the Specialist." Phantom snickers.

The compliments keep streaming in and it is really nice to hear. She almost loses her composure and professionalism because of it.

"Oh you know, it's what we do." she replies oh so humble.

"You're full of it. But you're so damn right. Good job, 1."

"Oh, and the way to the room has lasers all over but they do not trigger the explosives still present. PAL and I made short work of those. See you in a bit."

That one compliment from Trevor trumps the rest. Not by much, but it edges out. She is speechless for a moment until PAL confirms that he has cracked the code. And true to his word, the box unlocks. Only to shed its outer shell, leaving a smaller hardbox behind with a normal lock on it. The process of that shedding is taking some time however; enough for the rest of Nova 7 to pour in.

Kip sees the lock and volunteers to show off her "safecracking techniques". There might have been some in the team expecting her to have a lockpick or something, but they are somewhat disappointed when she pulls out her shotgun and blows the lock off as it is launched away into a corner.

"Subtle." Phantom fusses, as one of the disappointed only to receive a corrective tap on the forearm from Calamity.

Which he takes offense to; not because it hurts, but only because Patches is allowed to do that. It does not fail to make the bunny smile.

"Now get that Anglar Device out." Trevor then says impatiently.

Patches gets the honor and she opens the box up. She does not hesitate lifting the lid off right away, swinging it open. The front then also falls open, likely making it easier to load something in there… if only anything was in there.

"It's… empty!?" she exclaims, as her team joins her in shock.

"That's… wait! The Anglars said they found it…"

The gears in Trevor's head start turning.

"PAL! Find out what happened to this cargo." he then orders.

The A.I. goes through everything relevant. He finds that the contents of the box are marked as "precious cargo". The status of which says that it has been collected.

"When?"

"50 minutes ago. I will spare you the exact detailed number."

"Dammit! We were too late…!" Calamity bemoans, feeling like they did all this for nothing.

"Yeah… no wait! PAL, what is the destination of this precious cargo?"

"... Titania." he reports.

Trevor claps his hands now that he knows they are not out of the game. They can intercept it using Thresher in some kind of space pirate-esque combat. And still complete their mission. As he is talking out loud and with the camera feed still turned on, Tacker Field is fully aware of the plan and they approve of the plan.

"It has been approved! Patch, race back to the sub with PAL and start her up already. We'll catch up soon. PAL, make sure that our ship is ready to pick us up the moment we break the surface. Let's go!"

The team turns around, reinvigorated that the mission is still going on as Patches has PAL attach himself back to him like the comfortable backpack he has become to her. Phantom, seeing this, can only smile as he sees PAL gel so well with a very important member of the group. The second-hand friendship he can feel just makes his heart happy. Something that does not go unseen by his "rival" in the team.

Then the screen behind them turns on and calls them to attention. Recognizing the voice, Trevor's heart sinks into his boots. He almost does not turn around so he does not have to lay eyes on that jerk. However, he would like to keep his job and team so he stops everyone and turns around.

Like he expected, it is General Peppy who has appeared on the screen. Standing there with his arms behind his back, like he was trying to imitate the Lieutenant. His facial expression is mostly neutral but with little hints of disdain. PAL detaches to face the General as The Nova 7 members salute regardless of personal feelings.

"Good job, you all." he starts off complimenting.

"Thanks to Tacker Field's livestreaming, I was able to hop off it and allowed myself to appear on this screen here now. Thank you for that, PAL. I know it was not your intention but your hacking definitely allowed for some neat ways in."

Trevor looks over at the A.I., who in response to his, likely thinking that many will think he caused this, starts to subtly withdraw. Only for Calamity's hand to stop him and just as subtly push him to the front. He has nothing to be ashamed of.

"Anyhow, I wanted to personally congratulate you on your amazing work in locating the Anglar Device. Or as it will be known as from now on; the Neutralizer. Thanks to you, we know what it does and where it is going… which is why I must now say that your services are no longer needed."

A brief silence falls. If this were a cartoon, several jaws would have dropped to the floor. Even in Tacker Field, confusion and shock have silenced those present in the War Room.

"Sorry, Sir… but what do you mean?" Trevor tries to rationalize.

"We know where it's going! We could be on our way right now, intercept that ship and take it back for us. We got this, Sir!"

But General Peppy is not having it.

"As I said already, your services are no longer required. All the intel you have collected, will be transferred over to a unit outside of the Cornerian Army, where it will be put to better use."

Trevor's eye twitches. He is not going to go put up with that. Anything but that. Not to them. The other team members, in turn, can feel it in their guts that the General is going to say something really out of pocket.

"Dare we ask what unit that might be, General?" the Major inquires sternly using Trevor's CID equipment as a speaker.

"Hm? Yes, you may. Considering our position on the current battlefield, we have an operation planned to scour through the remains of the Anglar presence in Sector X and then get to Titania. From there, to Venom. As for the unit I specified…"

"Don't…" Trevor thinks to himself as he fears that what he was suspecting is coming true.

"... that would be the Star Fox team. The heroes Lylat has always needed."

Trevor's heart had already sunk down to his boots, but now he feels it bury itself all the way into Fichina's core. He said that. He really just said that. All that they have done, all that they went through. And see it all slip through his fingers.

Perhaps it is the way he said it too. So casual, like it was common knowledge that a bunch of money-hungry mercenaries are venerated throughout the system as their defenders. Like that is something normal. He can barely keep his fist from clenching hard enough to turn the oxygen in the room to diamonds.

"You've got to be…!"

He stops himself before he goes on curse-filled vocal rampage.

"You cannot be serious, Sir! We got them! The Cornerian Army will take the credit for this win, not that mercenary team. We can prove that we don't need them!" he reasons, as his ability to calmly address this bunny bastard is running on fumes.

"That may be, but you have to look further than that, Sergeant. The general public still considers Star Fox as Lylat's protector, not the Army."

"And how is this action going to change their minds?" Patches takes over from Trevor.

"It is not. But it is not needed. The Army will still be able to do its job; clean-up after them. Besides, there are some planets that still require liberation and those will sing our praises." is the General's answer.

While logical on the surface, they could have liberated those places just as easily if Star Fox was out of the picture. Clean up the ocean using that Neutralizer, literally killing off their central command structure, industry as well as their potential to reinforce for their fallen.

"General, may I remind you on what side you are fighting on? This time?" the Lieutenant brings up as disdain graces both his tone and face.

"I do not think I approve of your tone, Lieutenant."

"Neither do I approve of yours, General."

"Major, kindly get your Lieutenant under control." the rabbit huffs before merrily going on.

"Your intel will be transferred over to the Star Fox. Of course, you will not be credited. That would only compromise your existence, which is something we would like to keep a secret. Instead, you will be used to shore up a front that is currently struggling with making any progress."

Another time that they are going to be used as a plug. The whole team can feel it; they are being actively pushed aside. Just for being them, at their weakest and their strongest.

"All we did…" Trevor grumbles with his head hanging, just hard enough for Peppy to hear.

"Yes, after all you did, you will still serve as any military unit should. Besides, I am sure you would not mind helping out a friend. The 64th Marines are currently on Macbeth. On the frontlines. I do not think they would mind a few extra hands. And I am also sure the Admiral would not mind you digging him out of trouble again."

The maliciousness in his voice when he mentions both the 64th and the Admiral cannot be suppressed. Only enraging the Nova 7 team more. Phantom knows that it will not do much but destroy Anglar equipment… but if he were to throw his knife into the screen, it would make a proper impression. Then the rabbit chuckles, as if he knew how powerless they are against him at this moment.

"Perhaps next time you will learn not to send him out as your personal attack dog. It will only end in situations like this."

So not only is Peppy continuing the trend of self-destruction that Pepper promoted by actively using the Star Fox team as a crutch, using nepotism and trusting the word of the bitter old guard along with politicians only interested in their own wallets and assets… but he is also petty on top of that.

Trevor lifts up his head. Everything is clearly visible on his face. He is on the verge of exploding. Teeth showing, his nostrils flaring up and his ears falling back. Both fists clenched at this injustice. There are so many words he wishes to say, no, scream at this moron. Verbally shove some sense down both of those ear canals of perhaps… even physically.

"Major…" he huffs.

"Your call."

The Major understands that Trevor will now only take any order from him. Not from someone he considers to be nothing but a traitor. The mutt completely understands the betrayal felt by his team members. It is even visible on his own face and on those around him. It is rare that he is even seeing Nelson seething this bad.

But he has no choice but to obey. He already knows that any counter will be used against him. Especially in those political circles, where he is known by some as nothing but a warlord who is simply biding his time to strike with his own personal army to overthrow the command structure or go rogue. And while that sounds awfully tempting right now, it is not what he signed up for.

Looking at all he has achieved, whether it be in material or personnel, he cannot sacrifice all of that.

"Nova 7. You have your orders. You will redeploy for offensive operations on Macbeth. Return to your ship and make yourself ready." he orders with pain in his heart.

Trevor nods, bottling up his rage before turning to his team. His expression speaks volumes, the feeling of desperation and defeat, but with a twinge of an unbreakable spirit. He therefore calls out "Nova 7!" with pride. And receives "Forever!" in the same kind. He then takes a deep breath and refuses to say another word. Instead gestures to everyone to leave. But not with their tails between their legs.

However, Kip stops and runs back to the screen where Peppy is already preparing to leave the call. Trevor does not stop her but does stop the rest. He would not want anyone else to miss this.

"Peppy! Wait… don't do this."

The General stops when he hears that voice and he turns back. The kangaroo can see a hint of regret on his face that he is now directly talking to her about this, face-to-face.

"What about all I've shown you? All that we've shown you already? You said you would look into it!"

Peppy eyes dart downwards as he shakes his head.

"Yes, I said that. And I did. I took another look at it and I took it into consideration. And with that in mind, I still decided against using you once more." he states.

The further into that sentence he went, the more formal he began to sound. Like all the emotion was melting away.

Kip is at the end of her rope. Peppy is really the only member of the Star Fox she had a familial bond with. And now to hear this from him, cuts her deep.

"Peppy… please."

She is on the cusp of begging but the General is not having any of it.

"The decision is final."

He clears his throat and with it, the final shred of compassion.

"This discussion is over. You have your orders. … Goodbye, Militia Starnova."

With that final insult delivered like a nail to a coffin, Peppy turns to someone on his left and gestures to cut the feed. Which is done a moment later, leaving only static to fill the screen.

Kip's legs nearly give out as her head hangs low. How small she feels right now, could not be described. Like how she was rejected from Star Fox before. Blunt and unfair, just like that. A gift as welcome as a punch to the gut, given by people she thought she knew and could trust.

As her mind scours into that blasted past, the team that never left her out in the cold, is already right behind her. With Trevor putting his hand on her shoulder to remind her that she is not alone in this. That she is never alone. She sniffs and holds her head up high. Her face meets Trevor's and then the rest. They all feel the same. And there are all here for each other.

"Come. We've got a war to win." Trevor states as the team exits the room.

At the War Room, flabbergasted and still recovering from what had just happened, the Major and the Lieutenant stand there. Observing how the team has picked each other up after each has received their own personal knife in the back. The blade not even being held by a velvet glove.

Nelson then cuts the livestream off; he reckons they have seen enough for today. And he gets no complaints from either of his superiors. Silence overtakes the War Room, while inside each of their heads, thoughts are racing. Very few are positive, hopeful even. But the majority is very negative. Mainly feeling compassion for them out there.

"Nelson." the Major then says embittered, snapping the shrew out of a trance caused by pure disbelief.

"Y-yes Sir?"

"Get them home first. They deserve nothing less."

Nelson nods and makes sure to send a message to PAL directly so that the General cannot intercept it. In case that rotten old fool has something to pick with that as well. And now it is a matter of waiting for the team to come home.

---

- Rainbow In The Dark

- You Are Never Alone

Dismay is a perfect description for how Nova 7 is feeling. Aboard Thresher, carrying themselves and the Blue Marine with them. And much like that submarine, they are battered and bruised. In hearts and minds.

Patches observes this very well as she walks around the ship. She sees Kip and Phantom at the table in the recreation area. A place where she had found them more and more after their "awkward" encounter. The 'roo has her face sunken into her hands. Whether she is raging or crying, matters not to Phantom who has in the meantime has scooted over. And ever so carefully, has put his arm around her shoulders. After which she leans more towards him as he sympathizes with her, telling her that it is indeed so unfair.

It puts a smile on her face and she moves on. Almost smacking face-first into PAL who was also watching the display.

"Oh, sorry PAL. Didn't see you there."

"No need for apologies; no collision took place."

"Regardless."

She tries to keep up her smile and it is hard to keep it on.

"Specialist. You do not need to hide your emotions from me. I can understand them to a degree. I know that what has happened was a personal attack on you and the team as a whole. On our integrity and our ability. And there was nothing we could do about it."

Patches never thought that PAL could ever be so sympathetic. Nor did she ever think she would get teary-eyed thanks to him.

"I'm glad you share my sentiment." she says after a sniffle.

"Of course. It makes no sense to me either. The General… will soon see the error of his ways."

During that little pause, his emote light went from blue to red and then snapped very quickly to black. Only for a brief moment before he finished his sentence with a malicious undertone. And it is just what she needed to hear at this moment. A fighting spirit.

"I hope so. Thank you, PAL."

"... my pleasure, Patches."

The bunny excuses herself and walks ahead through the hallway. She approaches Trevor's room and hears a commotion coming from it. A fight perhaps? There is a temptation to put her ear to the door and listen to what is going on. However, she quickly gets her answer as the door swings open.

"Look, I can't do this right now." Trevor expresses, on the verge of bellowing it as he exits the room and hangs on to the open door.

"I know what you're trying to do but… not now. My head is… not right right now."

"Trevor, honey, I know it's super unfair. But you cannot blame yourself!" Calamity pleads with him.

"Come here and we'll figure it out. Together."

Although it is tempting, Trevor's head is so filled with hauntings, delusions and insecurities, that he cannot even handle his own wife right now.

"I… I'm sorry. I'm gonna take a shower… get this nonsense out of my fucking head. … love you." he mumbles at her, ashamed of his own stupid behavior and feeling guilty that he is leaving her in the room all alone.

He closes the door and then lays his eyes on Patches. His 1. He freezes, assuming that she saw and heard a lot of that. If not everything. He opens his mouth to try and explain… something. Anything.

Instead, emotions begin to overwhelm him. His legs start to shake and he feels so fragile right now. Like any wrong touch could lead to a crack, or even shatter him whole. The humiliation he experienced in being unable to be the right leader for his team in their time of need.

And everything all put together… it is too much. Patches has seen enough; he is literally on the verge of collapsing. She goes in for a hug but before she could even come close enough, he has already fallen to his knees. She dives down after him and wraps her arms around him tightly as he softly weeps.

"I didn't…! I-I could…n't…!"

"Shhhh." she hushes as she knocks hard on the door of the room to get Calamity's attention.

The brown dog is at the door very quickly and notices the two. With her Lazy Bones letting it all out on Patches' shoulder. She gasps and joins in to give him nothing but unconditional love as Trevor verbally beats himself up for it. The more the two ladies counter those self-told lies, hug and hush however, he quicker he stops degrading himself before finally letting it all be. Getting all that insecurity out by means of natural tears.

Then he lifts up both arms, puts his head between the both of them and in turn hugs his favorite ladies back. As the structure that crumbled inside of him, is rebuilding thanks to them. He can literally feel their warmth and support making him feel better.

"Damn… you're amazing. Thank you both… t-thank you so much…" he sobs.

"There's no reason to keep up appearances for us, Trevor. No matter your rank or your position in the team, you're never too big or small to never be yourself." Patches promises.

"Exactly. Listen to your friend over there. As for your wife; I will never judge you in your struggles or grief. No matter how insignificant you may think it would be to me." Calamity declares as she lifts up Trevor's head to kiss him on the forehead.

Trevor sniffs up some stuff that has come out of his nose in the meantime as he dries off the tears that have not left his eyes just yet.

"Oh… look at me. What a wreck."

"It matters not; we'll build you all the way back up. Like you've always helped us up too."

As they help Trevor back onto their feet, PAL has been observing from a distance with a green light. It feels good to him that things are looking up. Along with him, are Kip and Phantom who have joined up with the A.I. in the meantime.

- Still Standing

Once all the pain and misery had been expressed and explored, the Nova 7 team gathered in the cockpit of the ship. Especially when they realized that they were not going to Macbeth. Not yet anyway; PAL received a message to return to Corneria first for a "refit". Essentially

Nelson's way of saying "you are coming home first before I will even allow anyone to send you to any more war" and they are all thankful for it.

Once Corneria comes into view, they notice quite a decent amount of starships in formation. They wonder what they are doing here; should they not be at Sector X with the rest to go on General Peppy's literal clean-up offensive? Or maybe the message was intercepted after all and this is the way to make sure Nova 7 does not return home?

At this point, it would not surprise any of them that the General would be that paranoid and petty. Kip even gets a chill running down her back the moment she has to even think about the possibility.

The closer they get, the more cramped it starts to feel. They can see the countless gun turrets lock on and follow them. But other than that, nothing happens. Thresher glides through the formation like they were not even there. Which is slightly confusing for those inside.

"Huh. Interesting. PAL? Could you intercept their communications?"

PAL's internals whir for a bit before he is in.

"Communications intercepted. Now playing:"

Over the loudspeakers, they can hear an interaction between two people who are behind the console of one of those gun turrets. They have Thresher dead to rights but their hands are not on the controls. Instead, one of them wonders who could be inside that is so important, that they received the "Class 1 precious cargo" classification. The other answers by stating that he should stop worrying about someone who likely makes five times as much per day as they do in a year.

"If only…" Phantom fusses.

"You must admit; it is quite a compliment." Patches says.

"Sometimes it feels like we should be getting paid that much, doesn't it?" Trevor throws into the group.

And he gets universal approval for that statement as the blue planet comes into an unobstructed view as they pass through the group of starships. Behind them, the gun turrets stop following them and turn inert. They got through safely thanks to their status. And they can just about guess who gave this to them.

After the brief G-force experience that is going through the atmosphere, they can see Tacker Field appear through the clouds.

"You done crying, Sarge?" Phantom teases.

"... fuck you, Phantom."

"Yes Sarge." he chuckles back before he gets a slap to the back of the head from said Sarge.

Very soon they touch down onto the landing pad. And already awaiting them, is not a medical team but instead it is Nelson. The first one to spot him is Trevor. And the way the shrew is standing there in the distance, holding a tablet in his left hand, the first vision that comes to mind is that of the young clipboard soldier that came running to him and Patches after they were dropped off by Cherokee 3-0.

However, whereas that young soldier was but a pleasant messenger and occasional packmule, Nelson is so much more to him. As well as the rest of Nova 7. And vice versa, which is evidenced by the moment the shrew looks up from his computer screen addiction and sees the team being safe and sound on Cornerian soil, he tosses the tablet into the nearby grass to come running at them with his arms wide open.

"Ooooh welcome home, you poor devils!" he shouts as he wraps his arms around Trevor first.

"Each…" he continues as he lets go and wraps himself around Patches.

"...and…" as he switches to Kip but does so lightly considering her wounds.

"...every…" as he switches all the way over to Calamity

"...one…" as he switches again all the way over to Phantom, squeezing him extra tight.

"...of you!" he finishes as he even hugs PAL, but not too hard because he would like to keep his own rib cage intact.

Once he is done with the welcoming committee, he leads them all back in while saying that he hopes that they enjoyed their free ticket through the Cornerian armada. He then also semi-warns them regarding the mood of the base. The General's decision was not kept inside the War Room and regular base personnel also got the message. So their demeanor may mirror their own.

He then picks up the tablet from the grass, wipes the screen clean and holds the door open for them. They know exactly where to go; straight to the War Room. But as they walk through and see indeed that there are those genuinely affected by the decision to cut Nova 7 out of the mission and instead regulate them to basic infantry duties, it makes Trevor quite indignant. And his first instinct is to put the blame on the Major's final decision.

The moment they enter the War Room and Trevor spots the Major, he separates from the group and stomps over to him, almost on the verge of running. Patches is too late to realize this and she cannot stop him anymore. With his accusatory finger pointing right at the Major, Trevor is working himself up until he is standing close enough to him.

He huffs and puffs, laying his teeth bare and snorting like an angry dragon about to engulf its hated target in flames. His facial expression reads like a book filled with outrage and betrayal. There are so many things he wants to call him, so many insults he wants to use. The more he rages however, the more he looks at the stoic, statue-like expression of the Major, the less rage he feels. Especially when he sees that the stoic-ness on the Major's face is not a sign that he does not care. It is because he does and he does not want to break. There are so many things left to do and he has to stand straight to make sure they are accomplished.

With one final snort, Trevor lowers his finger, sighs deeply and hangs his head, exhausted by it all. The Major comes closer and puts his hand on Trevor's shoulder before he looks over at the rest of Nova 7. Seeing them like this, being treated like this, he completely understands their responses.

"I know. I know what you all feel. I had no other choice but to accept the General's orders. We cannot go against them, or we will be branded as traitors. I was tempted, believe me I was. But I'd rather keep us all together and weather this storm." he says as the Lieutenant joins him.

"Correct. If there was any other alternative, we would have followed it." the avian states to a disappointed but understanding Nova 7.

"Now, we will send you to Macbeth. As per his orders. But not right now…"

The moment the Major says this, Trevor's hearing goes deaf for a moment. He knows what he is trying to do; he is trying to protect them. Coddle them in some way. Shield them from the big bad General for as long as possible.

"No." he interrupts, defiant as he raises his head back up.

"We're not sitting this one out. Major, while I appreciate what you're trying to do for us, we cannot waste time on this. Not because it's the General's orders or because Munt is there in those trenches… but because it's our job. It's a duty we chose. What happened to us? Inexcusable. Our backs are still hurting. But so are our hands, feet and other parts of our body. This work is dirty and dangerous. We've gone through it, time after time again. Not for fame or rewards. We never asked for medals or trinkets. We never asked for any starfighters or blood money. And although a raise is never a bad idea, if I learned anything about myself and my team…"

He turns his head around to look at them and then back at the Major.

"... is that no matter how bad the situation gets, no matter who of the team it is, we'll always build each other back up. That's who we are and what we do. No matter the prize we have to pay, we'll overcome. Ain't that right?!" he then calls out.

"Yeah!" is the shared response.

"Nova 7!" Trevor then shouts as he turns around fully to face his invigorated team members.

"Forever!" is the loud answer.

The corsac fox gains a well-deserved grin on his face before he turns around to show those present in the War Room his confidence.

"Major. Send us to war." he offers, hungry for that which the Major was trying to keep them away from.

The Major is pleasantly surprised by the turn around in emotion. Trevor's words did not ring hollow or forced. It came from within. The lust to fight. That fire, he can see it burning behind those blue-purplish eyes. To think he was going to introduce them to the new project. To make sure that they would always have somewhere to shelter themselves and recover. No matter how terrible the outside world would be. And yet, despite all the trouble they went through, they still stand tall. Because of each other, not because of some chemically induced pheromone or the right soundwaves being played. He has underestimated their determination. Despite that, he is definitely not disappointed that he was wrong about that.

"Ha ha! That's more like it!" a familiar, thick voice bellows over the radio waves before he appears both as a small hologram on the table as well as on the big screen.

It is Admiral Sigismundo, having worked himself into his very own Captain's chair aboard his starship Sword of Lylat. The Flagship of the Armada. And one could have the faintest idea that his girth will not allow him to leave said chair with ease.

"Admiral? What are you…?"

Trevor started that sentence, not knowing where it would end when he was struck by a feeling of deja-vu. This is not the first time the Admiral came in out of nowhere on a private conversation. Naturally, PAL is keeping silent about it.

"Didn't I ask you to hang up next time I butt-dialed you?"

"And I think I replied with "not for the world" I believe, hm?" he counters before continuing his belly laugh.

"And it's good that I did because that's the attitude I was expecting from you all. You may have lost the battle, but the war is still ongoing. Same goes for me; General Peppy managed to outplay me in the political game. He called an emergency vote on what to do with you and I couldn't muster enough support to oppose him. He will not do this to me again."

"Sounds like a good attitude, Admiral. But why share it with us at this time?" the Lieutenant inquires.

"My dear Damian. You should know me better by now. I never call in just for pleasantries, no matter how many confectionaries you might offer." he says, however having to keep himself from drooling just a bit when he mentions the sweets.

Then Nelson alerts the rest; multiple starships have entered the atmosphere and are… coming this way? Before they realize, multiple starships are currently hovering over Tacker Field, shrouding it in their collective shadow. The Admiral holds up his hands as if to say I told you so.

"Peppy wants us to be the janitor to clean up after Star Fox's escapades. Not something that was very popular. So while he was busy cozying up to his old mates, I took a significant chunk of the fleet away from Sector X and back to Corneria in anticipation of your arrival. That rabbit won't realize it at all; too busy planning his push to Venom and only paying minor lip service to the Macbeth front. And since you've been routed to get my boys out of the clinch again, I wanted to be there this time when you did."

"So… we have a Fleet at our disposal?" Patches checks.

"Specialist, you're exactly right. We're gonna give you a ride to Macbeth and liberate it all by ourselves. Show the people of Lylat that they can indeed rely on their military instead of those mercenary money grubbers!"

"Kick-ass!" Calamity exclaims as she can already imagine the destruction they will cause with a whole Fleet at their backing.

"That is it and that we will, Miss Calamity." Sigismundo emphasizes.

"However, this is not the end of the good news at all. Major?"

"Hm? … Oh yes, I would've almost forgotten. Thank you, Admiral. I was going to address this at a later time originally but given that we're moving so fast already… heh. Might as well do it now. Nelson, if you please." he says as he turns to the shrew, who quickly rushes over to his turret.

There, from a pouch, he pulls out a small box not any bigger or taller than a phone and gives it to the Major. He opens it up and looks pleased with what he sees inside. He gestures to the Lieutenant to come and join him alongside him.

"Let's do this properly. Sergeant-at-Arms Trevor DeLange! Please, step forward."

Usually hearing his full name and rank would only remind him of when his mom would call him by his full name if he did something really wrong. And somehow that was usually when she was upstairs and calling down. But in this case, he can sort of guess what is going on but he does not want to presume anything.

"At attention, Sergeant. Come on." the Lieutenant corrects as this should go properly.

Trevor snaps out of thinking about it too much and stands at attention. The Major smiles and says that what he is getting, was a long time coming.

"It seems that while the Admiral was unsuccessful in keeping you on the mission, the positive image he shaped in the meantime, has managed to get some more people on our side. Influential people. And they see the potential and use for Nova 7 now. However, they are still part of the old guard. Real sticklers for doing things "properly", if you catch my meaning."

"And he does not mean the way I do things. These are really big nitpickers." the Lieutenant clarifies.

"So, those bozos are on our side now but they could not possibly fathom that a mere Sergeant is leading this team."

"Not an officer, so to say." Damian once again clarifies, revealing the outdated but still present belief that there is a difference between the regular folk and those of more noble or rich origins.

"Precisely. They care little for CSP's decision to keep you a Sergeant. Even on who is "At-Arms". And so that is a mistake we intend to rectify."

From the box, the Major plucks an insignia. Shaped like a gold-colored bar and shows it to Trevor.

"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant." the Major says, wasting no time in putting the pin into Trevor's overshirt.

Then he takes a step back and salutes, which the corsac fox returns. Then he lets the newly promoted Lieutenant stand at ease so he can bathe in the enjoyment of receiving this honor. And of course to show it off to the rest of the team, who are very happy for him.

While they are having a team huddle, Nelson hands the Major the second box before the shrew returns to the turret. The mutt then calls for attention again and addresses the situation.

"Yes, your team leader is now officially an officer. This comes with benefits as well as responsibilities and expectations. So tread as carefully as you've already done." the Lieutenant advises before he draws attention to the little box the Major is holding.

"Thank you, Damian. Another thing that those old geezers noticed, was the… shall we say "interesting" relation between you and Specialist Patches. Where you often refer to her as your XO. While that is undoubtedly true in some cases, it's still out of the ordinary. However, it works. And they want to make sure that at least someone can at least a squad-sized team should Trevor be… otherwise unavailable, shall we say. So they are nothing if not pragmatic. Therefore…"

He hands the box to Trevor, who is a little hesitant to take it at first. Not because he is afraid of its contents but rather because he does not know why he would be handed this. Once taken, the Major continues.

"... it is up to you to make it official in some capacity. You may open it."

Trevor does so with bated breath. Considering what had just happened, he can only imagine one thing. He slides the lid off and he can see the two yellow chevrons combined.

"I'm sure that I already know your choice but I still have to leave it to you."

The Major steps back and lets him have the stage. Trevor smiles and turns towards his team, showing those yellow chevrons to all of them. It too is clear to most of them who this is meant for, seemingly except for the one everyone is already looking at as the bunny herself is having a minor crisis whether to hide her face or try to learn instant teleportation.

"I don't think I need to explain what these are. And I would've given it to any of you with pride and pleasure. However, there has been one person who has been instrumental in my effective functioning. Someone I could not do this without, who has been with me since the inception of this amazing team…"

His eyes meet hers and he makes sure to keep them locked. Then he calls her forward and to stand at attention like he had to.

"Patches, Ashley, 1 or even Eyes for a short while. Whatever name I've called you, you've always stood by my side. While I know that this rank has given you plenty of nightmares because of the way it was forced upon you and that you yourself admitted you were simply not ready to take on that responsibility at that moment… you've grown so much more since then. And believe me when I say, that you're more than ready to take on this role."

He hands her the new patch with the two yellow chevrons. She stares at them, feeling the weight of accepting them radiating off it. But so does the trust he has to offer this to her. It makes it official. Set in stone. Unavoidable. Her mouth is slightly agape, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile as her mind draws a blank for a moment.

It then races through an abbreviated version of her life, with highlights of her lowest moments and also her greatest. Carefully, she raises her hand as it, slightly shaking, moves to the chevrons. It is almost like her body is moving on its own, telling her exactly what she refuses to acknowledge. Then the knot is cut once her memories replay the most recent words said to her; you're more than ready to take on this role. Hearing that from someone like Trevor… she knows it for sure.

"I accept." Patches says with confidence as she takes the patch out of the box with her eyes beaming with excitement.

Then the ceremony ends with a salute like it did with the Major and Trevor before. But unlike that previous ending, this one has a nice epilogue where the two embrace each other.

"You earned this, well done Ash." Trevor whispers to her.

"Took you long enough." Patches giggles before tightening her embrace and tone.

"I really appreciate it though; I hope not to disappoint you."

"You'd never."

"Mmh! If you say so. You know, I was almost tempted to say, "I do" when you handed it to me like that."

"Oh, good that you didn't. You would've incurred Boogeywoman's wrath. Also, wouldn't I need to get on one knee for that?"

"Tsk. So old-fashioned."

"Shut your progressive trap."

"Bite me."

"Rawr."

"You did not just… you're awful."

"Shush your carrot-trap."

"If I wasn't so thankful, I'd knee you in your foxy bits."

"Then let's not tempt fate."

The hug breaks up as both laugh at the exchange before taking their positions again. Then Trevor turns to face the Major again as he apologizes for interrupting him before to give his own grand speech.

The mutt is lost for words. He did not expect things to play out this way. All of this has effectively sidelined all those worries that he had. Which makes him realize that he was worried for them, projecting his own insecurities on them. It did not go according to his plan… and that is alright.

The avian can see the slow realization appear on his friend's face. With a light push to his shoulder, Damian wakes Clef up from the trance he was in.

"Erhm… yes. I was going to… well, it is irrelevant now. You've shown me that Nova 7 is still standing and ready for more. I thank you for that. Now, we can focus on what's important."

"Right you are, Major. As I said before; send us to war."

"To war it is then, Lieutenant DeLange." the Major answers

"Excellent!" Sigismundo chimes in.

"Then I'll make room for Thresher in my bay. Don't dawdle; because we will glass those Anglars in their trenches! With fire and flame! Which is appropriate, because I love a good fish-fry!" the Admiral bellows, followed by a hearty belly laugh.

"Does he say anything without mentioning food?" Calamity whispers to Trevor.

"You know, if he wouldn't, I would be terrified."

The two laugh about it before the connection between Tacker Field and the Admiral is cut short. The fat mastiff turns his chair around and oversees the bridge of his flagship. He calls out orders to take off the moment their guests have arrived. And that if any blabs about the location, that he will shoot them himself.

"Next stop; Macbeth!"

---

Healing

"So, what did you think?"

Damian receives no reply. He sits up and looks over in the direction of Clef, who has his head hanging. He calls out to him again and the mutt returns to the world of the living.

"Whu… did I just…?"

"Nod off? Quite."

"Hrrrgh… thanks for waking me up. Dick. I was sleeping for a reason."

"I know. You have had a tough couple of days. Worrying yourself sick. And no sleep."

"Pfft! That's one way of putting it. Imagine being able and willing to help out those underneath you the best you can… and it's not necessary."

Even now saying it feels so weird to him. Like it feels both sweet and bitter on his tongue.

"Is that not a good thing?" Damian checks.

Clef's face snaps to him, bewilderment and pleasant surprise dripping from his expression.

"Yes, it is. But it wasn't according to my plan."

"Aaah yes. You and your infinite plans. I have to admit; they are very useful. But the moment something deviates from it… be it the then Corporal Trevor popping up out of nowhere, my velvet betrayal…"

"To be perfectly fucking honest Damian, that was something I was allowed to be raving mad at." Clef corrects, to which Damian concedes.

"Fine. But how about the Aparoids returning? Or more recently with General…"

"Don't! Unless he's here, we do not pronounce his name. In these here… hallowed halls."

"Fine, fine. I will not utter his heretic name again." Damian chuckles, quite happy not to anymore.

"You've made your point however; I can't handle change very well. But I'm working on it."

"And I would be honored to help you every step of the way." the avian proclaims as he lifts up his tea cup as a toast.

If Clef could raise his flask in return, he would. But he chose to leave that one in his room for now. The two friends sink back into their chairs and watch the screen. As it depicts the Cornerian Fleet under Admiral Sigismundo arriving at Macbeth. It takes a moment before everyone is organized into their proper arrangement but once they are, they are heading straight for the surface.

Damian sits upright again. Not in anticipation of the upcoming battle as that will take some more time, but actually because he wants to start on helping Clef already to overcome that sneaky planning behind-the-scenes with all those projects. It has become a habit and while the ABC's are necessary and useful, he can only imagine what type of draconian programs he has hidden somewhere.

But when he looks over at Clef, all that he sees that sleep has overtaken the mutt once again. He could wake him up again but he leaves him be instead. He will try it with him later; pushing the issue will only cause resentment to the task ahead. With this, Damian sinks back into his chair just as Nelson rejoins them after a quick bathroom break.

"Perhaps you should install a toilet inside your turret contraption next time." the Lieutenant jokingly suggests.

"Pfft! You think I haven't thought about that before, Sir? I would have but sadly only so much fits in that thing. Also… is the Major…?"

"Yes, please let him be."

Nelson does not pursue that line of inquiry any further as he takes his place inside the ball turret as he continues monitoring the situation. Nova 7 is nearly ready to be deployed…