Shattered

Prologue: What Pride Has Wrought

Pride comes before the fall.

-Anonymous

Two pairs of boots thundered down a blood-spattered hallway with reckless abandon, tirelessly hunted by piercing inhuman howls and their own desperate, labored gasps. Both men remained encrusted with dried gore that stained their once pristine white armor, now gaping with recently inflicted gashes dug deep into the heavy plates.

“Come on… keep that ass moving, soldier!" The one in the lead barked in exhaustion, glancing briefly over his blood tarnished shoulderplate to the man staggering inconsistently behind him.

“I… can't. I… can't." The second wheezed in denial, clutching a crimson dyed crater in his breastplate, the hole rimmed with torn metal and seeping a viscous red fluid through gloved fingers. With one last rasping cough he collapsed to his knees, the broken arm he braced on the deck barely keeping him from slamming into the cold, blood drenched grating of the derelict starship as he writhed in a silent scream of agony, the fragmented bones in his wrist excruciatingly grating together.

The rough clash of weighted, ironshod boots cut to a sudden halt as the first man rounded back quickly, limping over to who had fallen and roughly grasping him by his armored collar. “You're not fucking giving up on me, not now, not after all we've been through!" Snarling, he forced his companion to his feeble legs and thrusted him forwards to stumble drunkenly ahead. “Get off your lazy ass and run you dumb motherfucker!" 

Glancing back the way they had come, his vision was invaded by an indistinct swarm of bone white talons and distorted mandibled jaws forced under hateful glowing orange eyes. With death moments behind them, he lowered a bloody and armor cracked gauntlet to the rifle hanging off his shoulder and tore it upwards, squeezing the trigger underneath the barrel and launching a sparking canister into the ravenous horde. He didn't bother to waste crucial seconds to watch his grim work, turning in a staggering sprint to catch up with his comrade. The explosive detonated, filling the claustrophobic corridor in a scorching wave of superheated flames and shrapnel. The deafening roar of the incendiary eruption drowned out the pained and mindless shrieks of the creatures in frenzied pursuit.

With his comrade's condition, it took him mere moments to catch up, the other man already leaning against the unpredictably locked door, the steel magnetically locked portal condemning them with its bold and aggressive rubicund type. The access hatch was the only thing keeping him from falling once more.

“This is it… we're dead." He murmured morosely, a hint of panic lacing his quiet tone.

But the first was not willing to submit to those abominations yet. He would never capitulate to those… those monsters. “Shut the fuck up, we're not done yet, not until I say so!" He growled, pushing forwards to rip the control panel from the wall, tossing the useless metal plaque to the ground in a rage.

Grimacing, he plunged a metal wrapped fist into the bundle of twisted wires, ignoring the painful electric shock that surged through his arm and burned his hand even as he attempted to splice the controls and unlock the door. As he worked, the low ever-present howling of their pursuers slowly shifted into inarticulate screaming. “Pick up your damn rifle and start shooting!" He bellowed.

Nodding uncertainly, the man struggled to lift his weapon in debilitated arms and let loose a few unguided rounds down the hallway, an effort that barely halted their foe's inexhaustible advance.

Seeing that his companion would not be able to hold on for long, the one who had taken the lead hastened his efforts, furthering injuring his arm in the process. And as the necrotic swarm neared, the holographic light on the door blocking their path flickered from damning red to a salvation wrought blue, briefly filling the air with a relief inducing gentle tone as it unlocked.

Seizing the collar of his companion once more, he tossed the battered and broken individual across the threshold and moved to do the same as a piercing flash of red hot anguish burned its way through his back. Dropping to his knees with a cry of shock, he twisted and smashed a fist against the control panel on this side of the door, the dense slab of steel plummeting to the deck to seal the hallway behind them. The thickly armored bulkhead separated the two access corridors and instantly brought about a deathly silence, its inches of hermetically sealed and reinforced titanium preventing neither sound nor air from crossing to either side.

The only sound filling the area belonged to their agony infused groans as they did their best to unsuccessfully climb back to their feet.

The man who had been last through the door gingerly fumbled around his shoulder as he hesitantly grasped the barbed, javelin-like protrusion that had effortlessly punched a hole in his hardened armor. And with a deep intake of reluctant breath, he ripped the length of bone out of his body and tossed the warped, blood painted shaft away. Every shred of discipline he possessed, martialed to prevent a single whimper from escaping past his lips as he used a gauntlet to staunch the steady flow of his own lifeblood trying its best to abandon his body.

Despite the nearly blinding amount of pain coursing through his system, he made it a priority to see to the condition of his companion, the other man reduced to a sobbing ball curled up on the cold, unfeeling floor. The light arcing along his spine nearly depleted, issuing a dark red glow.

Weakling…

“You… you alright?" He whispered as gently as he could in a hoarse voice, vocal cords strained by the indescribably horrific events that had transpired over the last month of their now remarkably wretched lives.  

“I-I just wanna go home." The other man sniveled between spasmodic fits of tears, his desperation fueled tone distorted by the dented helmet he wore, a wide fissure running down the plate and spider webbing across the left vison slit from a previous heavy impact.

Useless… coward… fool…

“I think we both want to go home." He agreed with a raspy, dehydrated chuckle that soon twisted into another groan as a fresh wave of throbbing pain gushed through his injured shoulder.

His fault… no way back… trapped…

“We… we should have never responded to that damned distress signal." The other man paused, his voice lowering to a haunted whisper. “They're dead… they're all dead."

He killed them… killed them all with his weakness…

The first shook his head uncertainly, giving a muddled response.

“Yes… I... no… that's not true."

“What are you talking about?" The second demanded with a sudden and violent snarl. “You were there… you watched them die!"

Die… death… kill…

“No… I mean… I…" He struggled to from words as he tried to pierce the foggy haze clouding his thoughts.

The sobs slowly receded and a minute passed before the other man picked up on his fellow's strangeness, rolling to the side and stumbling to his feet to glare at his companion. “What the fuck are babbling about?" The emotional breakdown was nothing new to him, just another symptom of this month long nightmare they were experiencing. But his was entirely different, yet disturbingly familiar.

Kill… kill him… death will bring salvation…

“SHUT UP!" He roared, smashing a fist into the deck with enough force to hear the bones in his hand crack, the pain bringing with it a brief moment of clarity. The dawning realization of what was happening to him threatened to freeze his blood and stop his heart as the full horror made itself known.

The second man flinched and faltered backwards on unsteady legs. “Alex… are you… alright man?" He asked hesitantly, his undamaged hand slowly lowering to the pistol holstered to his RIG as he started to piece the convoluted and dire puzzle together, becoming increasingly aware of his comrade's state of mind.

Kill… before he kills you… can't be trusted… murderer…

“NO!" He screamed, clawing at his helmet as a lance of searing pain tunneled directly into his skull. “Get out of my head!" He shouted, fumbling for his own holstered sidearm.

Kill… death... there must be death…

“Shit!" The other man cursed as he hurriedly threw himself forwards and tackled his kneeling companion, clamping down on the gauntlet threatening to pop the clasp and remove the firearm from its secured confinement. His efforts focused entirely on pinning his cohort to the ground.

The two injured men swiftly devolved into a savage struggle to lay claim to the handgun, thrashing wildly on the steel grating of the deck as they ferociously wrestled for ownership in a soon to be deadly tug-of-war.

Smashing an elbow into his lucid comrade's helmet with a dull clang, Alex at last laid his gantlets on the lethal prize and hastily retracted his helm, placing the cool barrel against the side of his now exposed head, the muzzle digging through his sweat soaked hair to nestle up against his scalp. He wanted desperately to silence the malicious voice and blow out the core of agony burrowing itself deep in his brain… and so he pulled tightly on the trigger.

*****

A silver starship glided through the inky blackness of space, its powerful engines effortlessly coasting the void as it maneuvered through a thick cloud of asteroids. Despite its impressive size, a full two kilometers, it only carried six residents. These individuals were none other than the most famous mercenary team in the Lylat System and most of known space by extension. And for the most part they all got along well together, almost like a family. At the moment however, they were experiencing a small familial quarrel.

“I have to ask, Fox. But what the hell are we doing all the way out in the ass end of the galaxy? Peppy better not have us cataloging space rocks. Though if he was, this certainly would be the place to do it."

The vulpine sighed, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle in frustration after having weathered another one of his friend's annoying dialogues. “Like I told you two days ago when we first left Corneria, we're on a scouting mission. The General picked up a signal out here in the Skallarian Drift and he asked us to check it out. What part of that were you not clear on?" He demanded with a frown, swiveling his chair around to face his avian comrade. 

The bird shrugged, folding his feathered arms together insolently. “Pretty much all of it."

“Gaah!" Fox threw his arms up in defeat with an irritated scoff. He knew that at the moment any attempts to reason with Falco would be pointless. He was in one of his moods again, something that occurred often when missions were delayed.

But on the inside he couldn't blame the bird. Things have been a little dismal since the war ended. Not much mercenary work to be had when there was no one left to fight. That was why they had been reduced to inconsequential assignments for the CDF, things that barely deserved the utilization of a team with their talents.... things like long-range survey work of the like they were currently tasked with.

“Oh don't get so pissy buddy, just pulling your fur. You need to lighten up more." The avian grumbled from his seat. “Any works better than no work. I was just foolin around. It's just that you're way too easy to antagonize and I need something to keep my entertained on this trip."

Hearing that the vulpine frowned, “Well, if you're looking for work why don't you go down and check up on the others; I'll keep an eye here on the scanners in case we find whatever it is Peppy has us out here looking for. All Fox had been told by the hare was that they would probably know what it was when they saw it, which in hindsight was not a lot of info to go on and quite ill-omened in its ambiguity.

The avian shrugged and easily jumped to his feet to head to the doors of the bridge. “Sure, sounds better than hovering around up here with my thumb up my ass."

Fox smirked. “Yeah well when you find Miyu send her up here will ya. She makes for better company."

The avian flipped Fox the bird as he left, the vulpine chuckling at his departure. He would always have an advantage over their rivalry, being the boss was not without its perks.

Now alone, he leaned back into his chair and gave a relaxed sigh, cushioning his head under his furred arms and resting his boots on the forward console and only gave the actively running scanners a small portion of his attention. The vulpine was far more focused on thoughts of home.

With the war concluded he had been able to find and reconnect with Fara. And they had not wasted the opportunity to make up for lost time. Fox let loose another sigh, this one wistful, as he wished she was here with him now. Then they could have at least had a little fun, the vulpine grinning at the thoughts of all they could have accomplished with all this free time.

But sadly she had work just as he did and could not afford to take a few days off to come with. Being the best test pilot in the profession, she had no want for work, unlike him. At the moment he was just glad to get what solid business he could to keep the ship running smoothly. While glad to have the war ended, they had been in a constant deficit of funds, the now reduced income from their menial contracts hardly able to pay the bills.

This job they were on now had cone as a godsend. Now he could afford to make the month's payment on his ship and ensure they had enough fuel for the next couple weeks. He barely even had the credits to pay his friends, and he was just happy they had not complained about the increasingly sporadic wages. At least now he was starting to see how hard his father had it when he had been the leader of Starfox, and it answered the questions a once young Fox Mccloud had to why his dad had always been so tired.

Staring out passed the bridge's window, his ears perked up slightly upon hearing the doors slid open with a whispered hiss. Fox peered out the corner of his eyes and watched his feline friend approach, coming to a stop by his chair.

“Hey Miyu, what's shaking?" He asked in idle curiosity, his emerald irises shifting their attention back to the stars outside as the ship sailed through empty space. The asteroid field was starting to thin out and they would soon be exiting the Skallarian Drift and he was starting to think that there was nothing out here for them to find, which suited him perfectly since they would be paid regardless.

The feline could only smirk, dropping her paws down to her slender hips as she eyed him accusingly. “You had me come all the way up here to ask that?"

He simply shrugged at her question. “I was just looking for amiable company, something Falco is not."

Miyu grinned and nodded in agreement; throwing herself down on the chair across from him and assuming a similar pose as her captain.  “That's a good point. And I wasn't all that busy anyway, not doing much besides watching Fay and Slippy as they toiled away on something I couldn't understand. From the nonsensical tech talk they were prattling in I assume it has something to do with the ship's shields… maybe?"  Her statement ended uncertainly.

Fox shook his muzzle. “I learned quite a while ago that it would be best to leave them to whatever it is they do down there. I don't have a head for that kinda technical jargon."

“Probably a good point there, I'd prefer a few solid brews instead."

“You and me both." He agreed with a quiet chuckle.

The two rested in good-natured silence, thoughts focused inwards as they peered out into space. But their ruminations did not last long as the console Fox's boots rested on beeped softly, attracting their attention.

“What is it?" Miyu inquired, leaning towards the vulpine.

“Don't know let me check…" He mumbled, pulling his boots of the dashboard and inclining his muzzle forwards to decipher the text scrolling across the display. “It looks like… something, is out there, just a few hundred kilometers to the portside." Fox whistled in amazement as the specifications become more refined. “And whatever it is… it's huge. Get everybody up here' I'll try and see if I can get a better scan on it." Fox ordered. The vulpine was quick to jump into work mode. Something that large couldn't be an asteroid, and was mostly likely a vessel of some kind, either that or a small moon. This must have been what the CDF picked up on. Its size would have easily been noticed by their long range radar network and their more powerful satellites.

“Right, on it Fox." Miyu declared, sliding out of her seat and jogging out of the bridge to grab the others.

The vulpine kept his eyes locked firmly on the constant data stream coming from the array on the ship, a deep frown slowly pulling at the corners of his lips as he read the line of digital script. This thing was not unfamiliar to him.

*****

“So… what it is we're looking at exactly?" Falco asked in confusion as he eyed the massive artificial construct hovering outside the bridge's armored window, its shadow consuming their vessel in darkness. “Because I sure as hell don't understand." He grunted, shifting to the five other occupants.

“Well…" Fox began before getting cut off.

“That is a mobile mining station." Slippy responded eagerly, the toad absolutely fascinated by the find. “There are a couple of them out in the Meteo cluster… though none on this massive a scale." The amphibian declared in an awed whisper.

Fox coughed awkwardly, his thunder having been hijacked. “Yes, well what Slippy said is true." He muttered, glaring silently at the short statured toad who chuckled weakly under his friend's ire. “The only problem is the fact it's not one of ours."

“Judging from its design, I think its Terran." Fay threw in her input and her companions turned to her in surprise to which the canine responded with a shrug. “I worked in Solar for a few months as technician a couple years back. This one follows the same general construction, though I'd never seen one this large."

“Okay…" Falco muttered crossly. “So what the hell is a Terran mining station doing all the way out here?" The Terrans did not usually leave their territories, and even then not in very big increments.

“It wouldn't be all that impossible for them to be in an operation out here." Krystal voiced, the cerulean vixen finally opening her mouth.

Fox nodded in agreement, frowning. “The only problem with that assumption is the fact neither Peppy nor the system administration is aware of its existence. This station is way out of Terran jurisdiction."

“Well, it's not like anyone owns the drift." Miyu replied. “I mean the place has been deserted ever since it was discovered.

“Still… it's too close to our borders. They would to have at least had to sanction the action with the admin first.  Slippy applied his knowledge. “Things like mining rights are heavily contested in the world of industry."

“So we're looking at an illegal operation?" Falco wondered aloud.

“In all probability, yes. But this is a huge job they have here, it can't be the work of pirates." Fox mused, rubbing his furred chin thoughtfully. He didn't like this at all. At such a scale, this was definitely not something the Terran leaders were unaware of. Which meant this was a deliberate breach on their side of neutrality pact.

“Should we tell Peppy?" Slippy asked uncertainly.

“I don't know, we should get a better look before we start jumping to conclusions." Fox suggested. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of some sort of governmental dispute between two sovereign territories. As it was, Lylat remained the smaller of the two and any conflict would in all likelihood not end in their favor.

“So then… we just glide on down and ask them what they're doing out here?" Falco demanded with an air of disbelief. In his eyes he had already seen enough to condemn them.

“That would be the proper procedure." Krystal decided with firm nod of her slender muzzle.

“What if they attack?" The avian countered.

“With what, their weapons batteries?" Miyu scoffed. “It's a mining station featherbrain. And if you forgot, we're flying around in a dreadnaught. I think we have the martial advantage in this situation."

Fox nodded. “They're both right. We'll head over and find out what's going on. There is not much they can do to the Great Fox so we don't have anything to worry about. And if worse comes to worse we bug out and contact the CDF and have them do a sweep and clear."

Falco mulled the vulpine's logic over before giving a grudging tilt of his beak. “Alright, fine then. Let's get this over with. I'm just getting sick of being locked up in this ship."

Ignoring the bird's attitude, Fox swiveled back to the ship's controls and reactivated the engines, setting a course for the colossal space born refinery. Usually this was a task for ROB, but the robot had been on the frits again, he not having enough funds to take him in for repairs. Thankfully Slippy was a great mechanist and was doing his best to keep the automaton functioning. At the moment though, it was down in engineering, half disassembled.

Soon, the dreadnaught pulled in to the local area around the station, giving the team a better look at it as light from the local star glinted off its hull. 

Massive was indeed the best way to describe it, an immense alloy construct that easily dwarfed the Great Fox. From its size, it had to be home to at least several thousand souls, if not more. Spires jutted from the armored base, a thick cluster of what was most likely habitation blocks. Giant blocky pedestals formed the roots holding up the cluttered towers, their appearance indicating that was where minerals were sent to be processed, transferred from the maniples below, via cargo ships from the station's many hangers.

It was a city in space and an awe-inspiring feat of engineering. Fox would have been more impressed though, if not for the situation at hand.

Since they were so close and there was no way they had not gone unnoticed, Fox activated the comms system and broadcasted a message.

*****

A bright blue holosight scanned the corridor, the trio of muted beams connecting the wall to the slanted barrel of the weapon in his grip. Alex skimmed across the area with his bloodshot eyes, his breath shaky as he strained to uncover any movement in the pitch blackness, his RIG's flashlight dangling from the side of his helm in a tangle of broken circuits and mettalic shards.

“Where are you?" He mumbled softly to himself, clutching the handle of his plasma cutter in a white knuckled grip as he peered through the cracked lenses of his helmet to try and sift through the blinding darkness.

A scuffle to his right instantly had the man jerking towards the source and he squeezed the trigger, the pulse of directed energy flying across the hall and embedding itself into a nearby bulkhead.

Jumping… shadows…

He shook his head wildly, muttering to himself.

“Shut up." He hissed viciously at the darkness, praying it would listen.

Alone… maybe not… always there…

“Just shut up… please." He pleaded, resting a bloody palm against the cool steel of his helmet in hopes of quieting the voices. “Just keep moving… transmitter… need to… deactivate… stop them."

Mumbling incoherently through parched lips, he resumed his forwards advance, barely giving credence to the warped shadows trailing in his steps. By now he could not even tell if they were his imagination or not. And at this point, he didn't care.

Behind you…

With a snarl, he whipped his weapon around, smashing it across his head in a shallow grunt of pain, the only way he knew to effectively quiet the voices… if only for a brief reprieve. He glanced down to his arm, studying the ragged tear in the armor as it steadily leaked a thick trail of blood. He didn't even register the injury, hadn't noticed most of them. His suit was now more red then white, and he attributed that to most of his delirium. The armor was a far cry from what it used to be, torn plates scarcely attached to the vacuum rated fatigues draped over his withered frame.

He could not recall the last time he had a drink of water, or something to eat… perhaps a week ago? It was hard to judge time in the endless labyrinth of industrial grated corridors and boxy steel chambers. What he did know, was that the ever present craving for substance and the debilitating, gnawing hunger had stopped a day or so ago.

Stumbling, his shoulder rebounded off the turn in the corridor and he dropped to a quivering knee steadying himself with a rickety gauntlet and clawing back to his feet. That happened sometimes, his body suddenly giving out. He paid that no more attention then he did the voices in his head and continued onward.

He needed to disable the communications array to prevent more people from arriving, had to stop this infection before it spread. All he had left to cling to was this one imperative, the final order given to him by his commander. As he staggered through the silent halls, his mind wandered back to months prior, at a time where he had been in a very different state of being.

Their first mistake had been answering the distress signal. The USM Achilles had picked up the faint radio beacon during its patrol of the outer verge at the edge of their rout, the captain deciding to narrow down its location. To say they had been surprised to find an enormous mining station drifting through an asteroid field so close to Cornerian territory was an underestimation of their reaction. Still, despite their misgivings, it was a Terran station and therefor they had a duty to provide their assistance in any way they could.

Docking had been their second.  

The first scouting party had failed to report in at the allotted time, and so the commander had sent out another unit, also lost. At that point, they should have cut their losses and jumped system, but they had stayed.

The third and final mistake.

Fate… destiny… submit…

Alex stopped at a bulkhead, taking a moment to read the writing painted on to the wall, docking bay B.

He frowned.

This was not the right direction. The comms room was several decks above him. Groaning, he pulled up the station's schematics to try and get his bearings. But from what he was reading, this should be the place, it clearly labeled Communications Center. With a frustrated grunt, he retracted his helmet in a clatter of armored plates and rubbed his brow, uncaring of the blood he smeared across his features.

Most of it wasn't his anyways.

Once he pulled his hand away he checked the plans again, and was stunned to see that it showed that he was indeed standing in front of the docking bay. Sighing, he dropped his head against bulkhead in defeat. Great, now his eyes were fucking with him too.

He glanced down at the plasma cutter, debating on whether to just press it against his neck and call it quits.

Hopelessness… despair… submit…

His rage boiling over, he growled and raised the cutter, unloading the weapon into the wall as he vented his frustration, yelling futilely into the blackness. He had all but reached the limit of what he could take. It was a miracle he had not gone insane yet. Or maybe he had?

The weapon ran dry and the ammunition counter dropped to zero, the man sagging to the floor with a soft defeated moan. Alex released the weaponized tool from numb fingers and leaned against the perforated wall, holding back tears. He just wanted it all to end, to stop this mindless insanity that had become his existence.

Subdued golden eyes roamed the grating till they rested on the plasma cutter lying discarded by his boots.

It would be so easy.

He studied every facet of its design, the odd sliding barrel and the small slot for inserting the power cell. The mining device had seen extensive use since he found it, chipped and scarred just as much as he was. Without it, he would have never survived as long as he did.

Extending a trembling gauntlet, he wrapped his gloved fingers around the scratched grip, pulling it close to his chest. Alex ran a hand down the length of the weapon, almost soothingly, as one would a crying infant. With almost ritualistic precision, he extracted the expended cell and popped in a new one, listening to the weapon as it powered up with a soft whine.  

It shuddered in his infirm grasp, as if fighting against him and his fatal desires. But he would not be deterred. With a sluggish but inescapable pull; he leveraged the weapon against his neck, finger resting solemnly against the trigger. He couldn't stand this anymore, the fear, the hopeless despair, the deadening sensation of isolation. Whatever the netherworld was, it would be preferable to this nightmare.

Those creatures, the horrible abominations… necromorphs, they had bested him. He just didn't have the strength left to fight back. Any determination he once possessed had been whittled away by thirty-seven days of endless hell.

Death is peace… end the nightmare… become one with us…

Alex scrunched his eyes shut, a single tear tracking down his blood smeared face as he readied for his end.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

“Terran mining station do you read?"

Instantly he halted himself, his finger a millimeter from completing its final task as he sat in confused silence. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked around as if expecting find the source of the voice nearby.

“Repeat, Terran mining station do you read?"

Still puzzled, he shifted his eyes down to the source of the voice, the male tone emanating from the device in his gorget.

Was this another trick? A cruel play of the mind in his final moments?

“Terran mining station, this is Fox Mccloud, captain of The Great Fox. If you hear this please respond."

He was suddenly hit with the dawning realization that this was not a trick, a ship had come. For a brief moment elation filled his heart, but it was strangled and replaced with horror upon knowing the truth. 

Another ship had come.

Scrambling to his feet he whipped his head back and forth as his brain wracked itself for an answer to this new problem. He could not warn them away, his receiver had been damaged and being the only one left alive he had not bothered to repair it. That meant he couldn't answer their hail and stop them from making the same mistake he and the crew of the Achilles had made.

“Terran mining station, you have not responded to our communications and we have no other choice. Prepare dock C for our arrival."

Alex gave a fretful frown. That was not good, in fact it was absolutely catastrophic. They could not board the station, it would spell their end. He needed to warn them away somehow.

He had to get to bay C and stop them before it was too late.