Chapter Text
Metal boots pounded down the corridor. A stocky frog, pudgy rabbit, slim bird, and athletic fox never broke stride as they charged forward. Not a word was spoken between them. The only sound the clomp of their boots and the thrum of the ship’s engines. They stopped when they entered the lift, but only had a few moments rest before the doors opened into a large hangar and they were running again.
They fanned out, each running to a titanium white and cobalt blue starfighter. Arwings. The most advanced ship ever produced by Space Dynamics. Canopies closed one by one as engines hummed to life.
The catwalks on either side of the ships raised, leaving them supported solely by the rigging above. From Arwing One, forest green eyes glanced to the right then left. “All ships, check in,” Fox McCloud ordered.
“Ready, Fox,” Falco Lombardi answered. His aquamarine eyes were narrowed in anticipation.
“Okay!” Slippy Toad chirped, looking up from one last pre-flight check.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Peppy Hare sounded tired. A result of their early morning.
With a nod to himself, Fox gave the order, “Launch all ships!”
Arwing One was pulled forward, gaining speed until it was ejected from the hangar. Arwings Two, Three, and Four followed. The ships fell into a diamond formation as they flew into the cluster of rocks ahead.
Sargasso Debris Field was one of the Lylat System’s many oddities. A pocket of rocks all floating together in a loosely spherical shape. It was believed to have once been a planet that was destroyed long before ships ever started to leave Corneria. What had destroyed it and why the chunks stayed together instead of spreading into an asteroid belt was unknown.
Whatever the reason for its existence, Sargasso had proven to be a great tactical advantage to the Cornerian Federation Army. It was the perfect place to establish a base. Close enough to the Sector Beta combat zone for ships to receive fuel and repairs, but far enough away not to be caught in the crossfire. The rocks provided armor, the proximity to Solar provided an energy source.
Sargasso Debris Field and the station built within singled handedly allowed the Cornerian Federation to hold the line at Sector Beta for as long as they had. Incredible to think this oddity and the station built there was a key component in stopping the Androssian Empire’s charge across the Lylat System.
Venomian ships swarmed the hollow in the center of the debris field, targeting the station anchored to the largest chunk of rock. Bays stuck out from the main station, tethered by long corridors. One had been destroyed, leaving the pod drifting in space amidst the starfighters.
Defeated defense turrets sputtered uselessly. Battered cornerian starfighters were fighting a hopeless battle to stave off the inevitable.
Without looking, Fox’s hand found a button on his console. The wings of his ship extended and locked into place. “Switching to all-range mode. Split up and take them out!”
On his radar he saw sapphire, emerald, and ruby icons leave his citron. Each marker targeting a different bogey as his wingmen followed his orders.
A rock gunner ended up in his target reticle and Fox opened fire. Twin green lasers tore through the ship. Two more came to avenge their comrade only to meet the same fate.
“There’s so many of them,” Slippy said, looking across the battlefield with something akin to dismay. “Where’d they all come from?”
“Who cares?” Falco answered. Green lasers tore through a squadron of rock gunners, then a trio of butterfly fighters. “We can handle them.”
“Stay sharp,” Peppy warned. “I doubt this is all Andross sent t’ take th’ station.”
Fox found he had to agree. Sargasso was a high-level target to only send some basic infantry after. He would have expected at least a harlock frigate or a doirsby battleship to be part of the attacking fleet. Yet all he saw were various starfighters.
Though it seemed Andross had deployed a new type of ship. The flattened diamond shape of its main body was an ochre color. Not that he got much time to admire its coloration before the ship fell to two salvos of laser fire.
If those new starfighters were supposed to be the ‘big guns’ the venomians had severely miscalculated.
“You’re not getting away that easy!” Slippy opened fire on a pair of rock gunners tailing a cornerian tripoint fighter. “Ha!” On the comms screen, Fox saw him punch the air in triumph.
His victory was short lived as one of the flattened diamond ships moved to avenge its comrades. Scarlet lasers streaked across the titanium white of a wing, leaving a black mark in its wake. Slippy banked left and right but was unable to evade. “Help me!” he cried.
Fox only had to wait one more second for the ship to land in his targeting reticle. He pulled the trigger and watched as green lasers tore through the ship.
As the battle continued, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Venomian numbers appeared to be dwindling, but that didn’t explain where they had come from in the first place. There was no way this many ships had just flown to Sargasso Station. Sensors would have caught them long before they arrived.
Even if they had come from Macbeth. It would have been a day and a half of space flight. They would have been detected long before they reached the debris field. So where had they all come from?
“Ya got a mark two invader comin’ up on yer six, Fox.” Peppy’s warning interrupted his musing.
So that’s what the new ships were called. A somersault brought him behind the ship and the pilot didn’t have time to mourn their lost opportunity at a stealth strike before the ship was reduced to shrapnel.
“Do these ships even have armored plating?” Falco asked as he made short work of another rock gunner squadron.
“They should have at least invested in some shields,” Slippy said as a pair of butterflies fell.
“Y’know th’ Androssian mentality: overwhelm an’ conquer,” Peppy reminded them. “Bogey on yer tail, Falco, use yer retros!”
“Worry about yourself, old man,” Falco snapped in reply. He somersaulted in defiance, the underside of his arwing scraping against a chunk of space rock.
On the comms screen Peppy looked upward, shaking his head as he muttered something about young punks.
Would they ever get along? Fox wasn’t sure. He’d known Falco’s apparent need to be a loner and Peppy’s inherent need to be a parent would be a point of friction on the new team. Honestly, he supposed he should consider himself lucky that six months in the biggest problem they had were moments like this.
Stars knew it could be worse. Far worse.
The face of a tan and black canine appeared on the comms screen. “All units, this is Colonel Shepherd. We’re picking up a large ship on radar. It’s headed this way.”
A large wedge-shaped ship emerged from the depths of the debris field. It looked like a horizonal Y with beams attaching two missile bays to one side and a hangar attached to the other.
“Ah, someone wants to play!” A long green face appeared on the comms screen; facial recognition software identifying him as Lt. Gator.
“Looks like it’s time for the main event.” Falco rolled his shoulders in anticipation.
“All units, charge!” The side hangar opened, releasing a string of Mk II invaders into the fray. Salvos of laser fire took them out. Though lasers seemed to only bounce off the main ship.
The missile bays opened fire. Not for the first time, Fox wished he could charge shots faster. Still, with the four of them they managed to intercept all the missiles.
Not that it would matter if they couldn’t take out the ship itself.
“Enemy shield analyzed!” Slippy announced as Interplanetary Attack Carrier appeared on the HUD. “The ship’s armored plating is too thick for our lasers to penetrate, but the girders attaching the side bays have no armor.”
“Falco, Peppy, keep it from attacking the station,” Fox ordered. “Slippy and I will target the braces.”
A trio of confirmations came over the comms. Arwings One and Three opened fire on the vulnerable metal struts. The attack carrier swerved suddenly, coming about. Fox went into a steep dive to avoid the hangar bay.
Slippy cried out as Arwing Three’s wing was clipped, sending him spiraling.
“Slippy!” Fox felt helpless as he could only watch the ship spin.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Slippy sounded more annoyed than anything as he rightened his ship. His face fell as he realized he’d lost a wing. “Aw man…” A moment later, his eyes narrowed in anger as he resumed firing on the girders.
Fox joined him. He didn’t like the idea of Slippy flying a one-winged ship but they had bigger worries right now.
More missiles fired and Fox saw the orange glow of their destruction. He couldn’t help glancing at the radar to see sapphire and ruby markers still actively pursuing bogeys. Never mind the fact Falco or Peppy would have called out if there had been a problem.
The portside girders finally gave out and a few more salvos of laser fire took out the hangar itself. Barrel rolling to get to the attack carrier’s other side quickly, Fox opened fire on the top set of braces while Slippy aimed for the lower.
The single blue lasers of a cornerian ship joined them. The top girders gave out first. Minutes later, the second set snapped.
With holes torn in her armor the carrier was vulnerable to direct attack. Lasers pelted the newly exposed weak point and the ship’s shield gauge fell rapidly. She was finished. It seemed her captain knew it as Gator snarled across the comms, “Charge!”
The thrusters fired and Fox dove to avoid getting rammed. Even the blockiest starfighter could beat the carrier in maneuverability. Did he really think he’d have a chance of taking them down like that?
The carrier kept going and Fox realized Gator had never aimed for the arwings.
“He’s on a collision course with the station!” Slippy’s realization was only a second later.
“Concentrate fire on the carrier!” Fox ordered.
Two more sets of green lasers joined his and Slippy’s. Blue lasers joined in as every available ship opened fire. The thrusters cut out and the carrier drifted off course. Explosions began to rock the silver and crimson hull. “Who are you guys!?” Gator demanded his black eyes boring into the screen as his ship fell apart around him.
“We’re Star Fox.” Fox hoped that somehow Andross was listening. That he would know just who had taken out his forces today. That he would know the team he had tried to destroy was still going strong.
Gator’s image vanished in a burst of static only to be replaced a moment later by a new comms image. “We are in your debt, Star Fox,” Colonel Shepherd said.
“Happy to be of service, sir,” Fox replied.
“I see one of your ships is damaged. You are welcome to use one of our hangars while you repair it,” Colonel Shepherd said.
That sounded far better than Arwing Three trying to fly through the debris field crooked. Slippy could probably handle it but it was better safe than sorry.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Fox said. “We’ll take you up on that offer.”
0O0
Fox stood on a catwalk, observing the scene below. Slippy was working on Arwing Three, chatting with one of the other mechanics. They were too far away to make out what they were saying, but he could hear the eagerness in Slippy’s tone. Odds were they were going to be here a little longer than planned.
That was fine by him. It’d take time for the Great Fox to catch up anyway. As long as Falco could stay out of trouble. Forest green eyes flicked to where the ace pilot was busying himself polishing Arwing Two. Fox gave it ten minutes before Falco wandered off looking for trouble.
Forest green eyes moved again, landing on where Peppy sat near Arwing Four. It seemed his meager breakfast of only a cup of coffee had caught up to him. He was nibbling on a pack of crackers he often kept on hand to help soothe an upset stomach.
Hearing the clomp of boots approaching, Fox straightened and turned. A tan and black canine in the green uniform of a colonel approached. He stood a head taller than Fox, his broad shoulders drawn up and back in the practiced posture of a solider. They had spoken often in the last six months but this was the first time Fox had ever stood in the same room as him. “Colonel Shepherd.”
“McCloud.” He dipped his head. “I thought I’d come down and check how things were going.”
“Repairs on Arwing Three are almost complete,” Fox answered. He glanced back at where Slippy had left his ship to look at something the other mechanic was showing him. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if Slippy got talked into helping out around the hangar.”
Shepherd chuckled, “I’d hardly be able to complain.” His amusement faded as he surveyed the other damaged ships in the hangar. “It seems were getting in more damaged fighters than we can repair and send out.”
“They’re from Sector Beta, aren’t they?” Fox asked.
“Not all of them,” Shepherd replied. “Some got too close to Macbeth. Others got caught by imperial squadrons enroute to the combat zone.” Frowning, he turned and started towards the door. “Speaking of, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
Curious, Fox followed him. As the door shut behind them the sound of repair work and conversation was silenced. The only sound was the clomp of heavy boots on metal tile.
Shepherd glanced at him then shook his head with an almost sad smile.
“What?” Fox asked, almost defensively.
“You’re marching like Flying Fox used to whenever our CO pulled him aside for a ‘discussion’,” Shepherd answered. He shook his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it.”
“You knew Dad?” Fox asked, too surprised to be annoyed by yet another comparison to the man he could not even begin to be equal to.
“Served with him,” Shepherd replied. “His piloting ability was only surpassed by his leadership skills. You know he became the youngest major in history? We all thought he was going to smash the record for being the youngest colonel too.” He sighed and shook his head. “Then Katina happened.”
“Were you there?” Fox asked. He knew in broad strokes what had happened on Katina. Dad had gone down in a bad wreck that had cost him his lower legs. He’d been missing and the military had declared him dead. He appeared on Corneria just under a year later. Six months after that, Star Fox had been established.
There were still a lot of questions that had been left unanswered. It was just one of those things Dad and Peppy never talked about. Fox hadn’t been brave enough to ask about it since Dad had died.
“No. I was stationed on Zoness at the time. I didn’t hear about it until long afterward,” Shepherd answered. He glanced over at Fox, “How old were you then? A year?”
“I was born a month after he went down.” That’s why he’d been named after his father. Mom though he’d never get the chance to know him. The irony being he’d gotten far more time with Dad than he had with Mom.
Shepherd stopped short and turned to him. “You’re eighteen?”
Not quite. He still had a week. It was close enough though. “Yes.”
The colonel shook his head as he resumed walking. “Eighteen.”
“We can be conscripted into the military at seventeen,” Fox pointed out. Which meant he was plenty old enough to be leader of a mercenary team.
“I know,” Shepherd sighed. His brow furrowed. “Star Fox has been in play for about six months now. You must’ve been seventeen when you reformed the team.”
“That’s right sir,” Fox answered.
Despite himself, Shepherd chuckled. “Just had to follow in your father’s footsteps, huh? I bet you’re the youngest mercenary leader in history.”
Fox shrugged.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Shepherd said. He paused a moment before giving Fox a questioning look, “What about your brother? I thought he would’ve been leading Star Fox with you.”
A confused frown came to Fox’s face. The closest thing he had to a brother was Slippy and he doubted that’s who the colonel was talking about.
Colonel Shepherd’s face fell. “Oh, don’t tell me your dad was keeping that a secret…”
What? Oh.
“No sir. It’s just… no one else ever referred to him as my brother before.” Fox had thought he’d been the only one. It was nice to know Dad had agreed with him. He lowered his gaze to the floor. “He’s gone.”
He felt a hand land on his shoulder briefly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Fox didn’t have time to think of a reply when a set of doors opened and they stepped into the command center. Several stations were occupied by various soldiers. Some seemed to be on radio, hardly looking up when Shepherd entered.
“Colonel,” a tall avian woman approached, “We’ve got another squadron of damaged fighters inbound. Damage reports varied.”
“Prepare hangar bay four, Major,” Shepherd replied.
“Yes sir.” She turned and moved to another console. Hitting a button, she spoke to someone else on the station.
Colonel Sheperd approached an unoccupied station and brought the console online. “In the last few months, we’ve detected a few squadrons of imperials approaching Sector Beta – they never make it.” He explained. On the screen a radar map appeared. It showed several red dots approaching Sector Beta, only to be lost to a yellow dot. “The ship isn’t part of the Cornerian Army, the Aquan Navy, or the Zonessian Marines.” He glanced back at Fox, “Is it yours?”
He studied the map for a minute. Watching as the date changed every so often and squadron after squadron met their end at the mysterious yellow dot. It followed their usual orbit around Sector Beta and it seemed the dates matched up. He gave a nod. “Yes sir. We hang around Sector Beta and intercept reinforcements when we don’t have any jobs lined up.”
“I figured as much. Paul wasn’t convinced though.” Colonel Shepherd leaned back in his seat with a sigh. He glanced at Fox, “I hear you boys have gotten quite a few jobs. You’re the ones that took out the fleet that was moving to take Eladard, right?”
“Yeah, that was us,” Fox confirmed with a nod.
“Living up to the reputation as the best of the best, huh?” Shepherd said. A grim look came to his dark eyes. “I’d be careful if I were you McCloud. A lot of the militaries’ finest have come through here and Andross had them all hunted and destroyed when they interfered with too many of his plans. You keep poking that hornet’s nest, and he’ll be after you too.”
“Are you saying we shouldn’t ruin his plans?” Fox asked incredulously.
Colonel Shepherd shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just saying be prepared for retaliation.”
“Let him try,” Fox scoffed.
The colonel shook his head again. “There’s more at stake here than your personal vendetta against Andross, McCloud.”
Before Fox could ask what that was supposed to mean, one of the consoles lit up. “Message for you sir,” a newt said. “From Fortuna.”
A murmur rose through the command center. One that sounded more teasing than anything. The colonel shook his head. “Children, the lot of you.” He glanced at Fox, “My wife is stationed on Fortuna, as research director.”
Well, that explained everyone’s reaction.
A woman appeared on the screen, looking frazzled. The screen flickered in and out. “Gustav, are you there?” Despite the screen flickering, the audio was clear.
“I’m here, Jennifer. What happened? Are you alright?” Shepherd asked.
“A beast came out of the jungle,” she replied. “A huge flying creature. I’ve never seen anything like it! It attacked the outpost. We can’t… We have no defenses against it. If it comes back again I think it’ll destroy the building.”
Shepherd muted the mic for a moment. “The army can’t spare any ships and my leave isn’t for another month. If I abandon my post I may as well had the station to Andross and his demented apes… could Star Fox head over to Fortuna?”
Fox nodded. “Leave it to us, we’ll hunt the beast down.”
He gave a nod and unmuted the mic, “Back-up is on the way, honey.”