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26 December 3048 LDC

Fisker Station Beta, Aquas

14:36 Aquas Standardized Time

The courtyard was quite small, perhaps fifty square meters across; a luxury of open space on a station whose floorplans would have covered nearly a hundred square kilometers if it had actually been spread out over the surface of a planet. Either way, the hotel which occupied the periphery of the courtyard extended for three floors above; topped with a display which mimicked the appearance of blue sky overhead. Along with sophisticated lights which gave off about the same amount of brightness as natural sunlight, the hotel was as close to being outdoors as it got on a sealed space station.

None of this really mattered to the fifty or so occupants of the hotel; the bewildered, tragedy-stricken survivors of a race which was for most intents and purposes almost extinct. Out of Cerinia's population of eighteen million, only forty-seven survivors made it to the safety of the Lylat System. None of them were prepared for the stark differences between their society and the one which now sheltered them, save a handful who had dealings with the Lylatian traders who had visited their world over the years.

Maloc Haleth mulled over the particular circumstances which brought them to this point; two months cooped up in five luxury shuttles, subsisting on emergency supplies. It was later found out that the Lylatian traders who had given them the means to survive the Venomian onslaught which had killed so many of their fellow Cerinians were actually breaking the law giving them technology in the first place; their very existence owed to the actions of a few renegades seeking profit, knowledge, and peaceful relations with their kind. Either way they had been sequestered in the hotel for nearly three days; the Lylatian officials said it was for their protection but most of them were growing restless.

Maloc hated to say it, but he was among them. What little comfort he had was that his father assured them that the Lylatians meant well and genuinely wanted to protect them. Yet, from what? Weren't they safe in their territory, the damage from the Venomians already done? The questions still remained, let alone what had become of his sister. She had been one of their targets; his mother among the unlucky masses whose lives were claimed by the genocidal bastards.

That brought him to the present moment. As the son of the only living Council member and one of a handful of Cerinians who had any knowledge of Lylatian culture, history, and technology, he was one of the few Cerinians who had plentiful 'interviews' with Cornerian Intelligence Bureau agents. The avian sitting across from him was one of them; a nondescript avian whose mottled brown plumage was a close match to the now-extinct Jinbird on his home planet.

"I'm sorry to say that the craft you described hasn't shown up on any sensor stations in the system." Maloc wasn't an Adept like his father and sister, but the sincerity in the man's voice came off in waves. He likely learned the hard way it wasn't easy or wise to keep secrets from a group of telepaths. "Even with a damaged Slipdrive it would have come in by now, unless its fuel system was compromised."

"So what you're telling me is that Krystal was either killed over Cerinia by a Venomian ship or the ship ran out of fuel, killing her in stasis." Maloc sighed, the gesture not even coming close to communicating how heavy his heart felt at the news. "Even if the ship landed on a habitable planet against all odds, her chances of survival without proper medical care to bring her out would be slim to none." Part of him had prepared for the news his sister was dead, but the reality didn't sink in without the stabbing presence of grief.

"I know my words are a hollow comfort, but you did the right thing. The Venomians were looking for your sister for a reason, and sending her away like that could save countless lives. I think we understand why." He paused for a moment and gestured to the datapad sitting on the table between them. "Do you know much about the Lylatian War, Mr. Haleth?"

"Only the basics." Maloc admitted. "The exiled Andross Oikonny organizing the scattered and angry settlements of Venom into a sizable military force, using mercenaries and pirates to expand their arsenal. They were defeated and Andross killed by Fox McCloud, right?"

"In a nutshell, yes. However, one subject usually glossed over in the history books is the use of biological warfare and genetic experimentation by Venomian scientists, headed up by Andross himself. At the end of the war he had experimented on himself so thoroughly that he was simply the mind of a madman in the body of a powerful biological construct. Evidence we collected after the war suggested that he prepared for his death and had a clone body hidden somewhere, waiting for the technology to come along to bring him back to life. Essentially, this would require his consciousness to be transferred from the machine storing his thought patterns to an actual living body. Would that be possible for a Channeler to accomplish?"

Maloc thought that over for a moment, glancing at the agent's datapad. He wasn't well-versed in what those with Talents could or couldn't accomplish, but his father was currently meeting with other agents; his efforts in getting them some more freedom to wander around parts of the station had been gaining a little bit of headway. Yet something told him that at the very least his sister, in death, was safe from being used as a conduit to bring one of the most vile beings in the galaxy back to life. With her innate talents it was entirely possible. "Yes, I think it would be, though High Priest Gartol would know more about it than I would."

"Would you mind if I speak with him?" The agent collected his datapad and began to pull away from his chair, but was stopped by a gesture from Maloc.

"You may do so after my father and I speak with him. If you'll excuse me, we have to make arrangements for the memorial service for both my mother and sister." He stood up and made his way across the courtyard before the agent could see the tears freely falling down his cheeks.

28 December, 3048 LDC

Open space coordinates 103678.4/3673084.332/84830337.001

Within 150km of CDI Orbital Platform ZX-1032

18:00 Local Station Time

The profile of the Great Fox hung suspended in the silent, airless void of space, overlooking the hive of activity before them. Several smaller ships hung around the massive ringlike profile of the Beltino Gate they were working on. If he strained his eyesight, Fox could make out the swarm of workers in spacesuits making final preparations to the Gate. An hour remained before they would make the trip out to Cerinia.

Slippy had tried explaining the details behind the Warp Gate system, but the particulars had made his head spin. He had barely passed his Applied Physics classes at the Academy, mainly due to Slippy's tutoring in even the most basic subjects. The most he understood was that the gate worked off the Metzer Principle; the more precisely you knew the location of a certain subatomic particle, its movement couldn't be tracked as accurately. At least that's how Slippy tried explaining it to him. Either way the Warp Gates used what was called quantum shifting, basically 'tricking' reality that a specific particle was in one place when actually it was in another.

What this did was make nearly instantaneous travel between two distant points possible. A standard shuttle trip from Corneria to Aquas would take all of sixteen hours in Slipspace from orbital station to orbital station. A Warp Gate trip would take only two hours, including the time it took to get to and from the Lagrange points the Warp Gates were stationed at.

Travel by Gate was extremely expensive. The previously mentioned trip to Aquas via Slipspace was around 800 credits. By Gate it was 12,000. The power requirements for a Gate were enormous, and as such only governments, corporations, or the very wealthy could afford the luxury. Also, Gates could only be safely set up at Lagrange points; while a rare occurrence gravitational interference by a planetary body or rogue asteroid could alter the exit point of the Gate. Either way, Peppy ran the numbers and came up with the fact their trip to Cerinia was going to cost the CDI several times what they were paying them in the first place. The beancounters in Corneria City wouldn't be pleased, but at least it wasn't going to be a four month trip just to collect some facts.

The Great Fox would be accompanied through the Gate by the CDI Spirit of Integrity; a large container ship. The freighter dwarfed their dreadnaught, one of the few available that could transport a partially-assembled Warp Gate. The plan was to survey Cerinia while the Integrity_set the Gate up for the return trip. Slippy would be the chief technical advisor for that particular project, while Peppy would stay aboard the _Great Fox to guard the container ship from any possible Venomian retaliation.

That left Fox to baby-sit the scientists who were going to do the survey. Why they would send weapons designers to do a science team's job was beyond him. He was being paid to do this job, but the voice at the back of his mind kept on nagging him that something wasn't right. His father always told him to trust his instincts, and they were screaming at him to keep his eyes open and expect anything. Yet for the time being there was nothing to do but sit and wait on the empty bridge until the Gate sprung into action. His fingers danced on the notebook computer that was mounted on the captain's seat; one of a few luxuries he allowed himself. He fired up the integrated media player and queued up one of his favorite playlists. Within seconds the harsh screaming of electric guitars poured in over the bridge's PA system. Fox McCloud wasn't one to wait in silence.

---

Open space coordinates 103678.4/3673084.332/84830337.001

Within 150km of CDI Orbital Platform ZX-1032

18:50 Local Station Time

Without any fanfare the myriad of ships tending to the Gate had pulled back to a safe distance. Fox paused his music and shifted his gaze from the Hypernet browser window on his notebook to the massive ominous ring hovering ten kilometers away. The gate sprung to life, a pinkish-purple swirling vortex of energy popping into existence within a few seconds. The communication system chimed on cue, a nameless CDI project director's voice carrying over the same PA system the vulpine mercenary had been blasting his music on only a minute prior.

"This is Gate Control. Warp Gate system online. Running normal testing sequence with outsystem coordinates VX3270 dash EX34965 dash GAV6239A point 63221. Estimated time of Gate contact is three minutes. Expedition craft, please report in." The mission was only a few minutes away from initiating. Due to the dangers from both a possible Remnant ambush and establishing a Gate transfer without any receiving Gate, a probe was to be sent in first to scout the area.

"This is Captain Erich Bainsmat of the CDI container ship Spirit of Integrity. Cargo is properly secured and all systems are in the green. We're ready to go when prompted, Gate Control."

Fox keyed the microphone, pulling up the Great Fox's datastream program on his notebook. "This is Fox McCloud of the Great Fox. All systems nominal and main weapons are on standby. We are ready to proceed when you are, Gate Control." As he turned off the mic the door to the bridge slid open, both Slippy and Peppy rushing to their assigned stations. They didn't do Gate travel that often but they still were capable of running things like a well-oiled machine.

"Fox, everything's secured in the launch bay. We got their shuttle docked in front of the Arwings." Peppy turned to his navigation console, reviewing the information that Gate Control had sent to their navicomputer. The two CDI scientists would be using a Space Dynamics XK-134 Shrike-class assault shuttle for their survey mission, which boasted enough firepower to help repel any starfighter attack. Fox would be flying escort with his Arwing, which gave them a comfortable margin of safety.

"I've been keeping an eye on Gate Control." Slippy chimed in. "They should be launching the probe in a couple of minutes. From the telemetry feed they've got a lock on Cerinia's location and we should be gating in about 75,000 kilometers away."

"Good work, everyone. How are our guests?" Fox was still a little suspicious about the two, though he wouldn't be one to second-guess a client's wishes with this large a paycheck on the line. Still, he fully believed his duty would always be to protect Cornerian interests first and foremost; if CDI was pulling any funny business Pepper would be the first to know.

"They're finishing up stocking our armory with the weapons they promised." Peppy scratched his chin. "They were pretty secretive about all of it, but they promised us a familiarity course once we got back to the station. Are you sure these are advanced prototypes? They look rather simplistic to me."

"I guess appearances can be deceiving, Pep." Fox replied, continuing to gaze out the main viewport. "Either way if we need to get out on the ground I'm going to be carrying along my blaster. They can deal with the prototypes."

Peppy was about to speak up but was cut off by another chime from the PA. "Gate Control here. We're sending the probe in now. Gate transmission in five, four..." As the countdown continued the small, blocky sensor package could be seen streaking towards the Gate's vortex. It hit the energy field, causing a small section of it to flash bluish-grey before returning to its original color.

"Alright, we're getting a sensor feed right now. No video, but the sensor suite is showing no active ship transponders. It's indicating scattered ship wreckage here and there, but nothing larger than a passenger transport shuttle. We're picking up a bunch of old ion trails so there was a lot of ship activity. The planet's in one piece so we're doubting the Remanant used one of their core disruption bombs. We're not picking up any lifesigns, either. For all intents and purposes this looks to be a dead system. You are cleared to go through. Great Fox, you'll go in first. Clear a safe zone of fifty kilometers then report back. We'll then send the Integrity through to set the gate up."

"Copy that, Gate Control." Fox responded. "Moving through the gate now." With a deep breath he glanced to his two friends, the teammates who had shared every victory and every defeat he had been through since they rebuilt the team after his father's passing. "Let's do this."

"You got it, Fox." Peppy's hands danced over the controls, guiding the dreadnaught forward under a fraction of the engine's nominal power output. The Gate loomed before them, its ethereal glow filling the viewport as they crept closer. The transparent material responded by growing darker, saving the crew's eyes from any discomfort.

Passing through the Gate itself was an anticlimax. As the viewport contacted the energy field the picture beyond became blurry, yet nobody noticed anything wrong as the energy swirled around them. The impossibly complex orchestration of subatomic particles comprising the ship and its crew manifested itself as a slight pins and needles sensation, yet was over as soon as they became consciously aware of it.

The blurriness faded as the Gate transfer completed, the Great Fox crossing a gulf of sixty-seven light years in a timespan of mere seconds. The three members of the Star Fox team immediately went to work, the dreadnaught's sensor suites casting a far superior net than the probe.

"Okay, let's get out of the way of the Gate path and get this preliminary system scan done." Fox's fingers flew over the keyboard on his notebook, bringing up the ship's integrated mapping software. Going by the information copied from the Traders' Guild records they were in the right place.

The scene past the viewport was hauntingly beautiful. A distant sun cast light on the lone planet and its two moons; Cerinia seemed to stand as a mute testament to what happened to its inhabitants. The sapphire oceans and wispy clouds gave its solitary brown/green continent a sobering resemblance to Corneria.

"F...Fox?" Slippy's voice broke, and the vulpine merc could see his old friend trembling. "The... the sensor analysis on the... atmosphere. They used a... Purger." The tension and anger on the bridge was so thick it could be cut with a knife. The doomsday weapon was one of Andross' last-ditch efforts at breaking the Cornerian war effort.

Comprised of a series of nerve agents which would remain airborne for months and mixed with a few nasty biotoxins created in Venomian labs, the Purger missile was designed to poison an entire planet, destroying all life and making it uninhabitable for several months afterward. The Venomian plan was to kill off the populations of Corneria and Aquas, then establish colonies after they had won the war.

"That can't be!" Peppy growled. "They destroyed all of those damned things after we killed Andross! We had his personal records, and every single one_was accounted for!" The hare turned back to his naviconsole. "We all know that the Remnant was trying to cover up something big. They killed off an entire _race to protect a secret, by the Creator!"

Fox took a deep breath before returning to the sensor readout. They were alone in the system. Other than the scattered wrecks of what looked to be outdated personal luxury shuttles there wasn't any signs of ship activity around the doomed planet. This was why he said yes when Peppy asked him to drop out of the Academy and pursue a career as a merc. He wanted to prevent anyone else from feeling how he did when Andross killed his mother and his father. That they let a weapon like this escape notice was sickening... or was the Remnant still capable of manufacturing them? Either way the Cornerian authorities needed to know.

He switched the mic back on, a status bar on his notebook's screen informing him there was still a connection back to the CDI outpost. "Great Fox_reporting in. Cerinia was hit with a Purger. Lifesign scans are still running but I doubt we're going to find anything here. Send in the _Integrity, over."

"Acknowledged. I hope those poor souls find some peace." The voice at the other end sounded as distraught as Fox felt. "Sending in the _Integrity_after some final systems on the receiving Gate. They'll be on route in twenty minutes. Gate Control, out."

The bridge was silent for a few moments, broken only by the hiss of the door mechanism. The two CDI scientists strode in with nearly military precision, their eyes taking in the scene in front of them. "I am sorry for the delay, Captain McCloud." Yuri gestured towards Cerinia. "Did you make any progress?"

"I wish we didn't." Fox grimaced. "The Remnant managed to find and use a damned Purger on Cerinia. The most likely case is that every living being on the planet was killed within a few hours.

"Bhozehmoi." Ivan gasped, breaking his stony façade for a moment. "Damned imperialist aggressors. They were trying to cover up something big. We might be able to find some records..."

"I got something, Fox!" Slippy shouted, stabbing a finger towards his terminal's display. "I'm picking up a few recent ion trails going to and from the planet, probably a week old at the most. There also seems to be a small source of power emissions on the southeast portion of the planet." The frog paused for a moment, his technical wizardry and vast knowledge of starships coming into play. "Ion trails are likely from a Venomian transport craft of some sort, so they might be Remnant."

Fox glanced to the two CDI scientists. "If you were about to say something about records, that's where they'll likely be. You said you wanted to test out your new toys in combat conditions?" As they nodded the merc gave them a smirk. "Sounds like you're going to get more than you bargained for."