WARNING:  This story has been written and posted free of charge
solely for entertainment purposes.  Fox McCloud Jr, Falco
Lombardi, Peppy Hare, Slippy Toad, Venom, Corneria, Fara Phoenix,
General Pepper, Andross, and all other principle characters and
places created by Nintendo are copyright (C) 1993 Nintendo of
America Inc.  Used without permission.

     Star Fox is copyright (C) 1993 Nintendo of America Inc. 
Used without permission.  All characters and places created by
me, Theodore P. Perrotti, are copyright (C) 1995 Theodore P.
Perrotti. (However, feel free to use all of this story's
characters, events, and places as you wish as long as you abide
by the conditions described in the next paragraph.)

     This story may be redistributed, stored, or archived in any
way just so long as it is unaltered, this entire disclaimer
remains with it, and such action is taken free of charge.  In
short: DON'T SELL OR ALTER THIS STORY!  Also, please give me
credit if you use any of my creations.

     Parts of this story were based on characters, places, and
events in both the Star Fox video game and the Star Fox comic
which appeared in Nintendo Power.

     You may also notice a "Star Trek" influence in this story. 
This is no coincidence.  Specifically, this story has been
influenced by the original series episode "Mirror-Mirror", the
Next Generation two-parter "The Best of Both Worlds", and the
Next Generation novel "Dark Mirror".

     I welcome your comments.  Please e-mail them to me at
author@galaxycorp.com.
_________________________________________________________________

     Chapter 4: Condition - Red

     Fox arose from his bed triumphantly.  It had been almost twelve hours since his last dizzy
spell, and Dr. Coles had finally given him the ok to go back about his duties.  As it was not his
shift, he decided to go to the docking bay and help with the search, as he had promised earlier. 
But, as he passed by Tad's bed, he felt a cold stare fall upon him.  When he turned, he saw Tad
lying awake, his arms folded behind his head.  Tad said nothing, but just proceeded to stare at Fox
angrily.  Fox sat down on an empty bed next to Tad's, with Tad's eyes following him every inch of
the way.  "Listen, I've had just about enough of this,"  Fox declared, removing the Captain's bars
from his uniform as he spoke, "You've been on my case ever since we were assigned here.  Well,
I'm not your Captain now.  I'm just a guy sitting next to you.  If you want to let loose on me, then
do it."  
     Still saying nothing, Tad rolled over onto his side so as to face away from Fox.  "All right. 
If you don't want to talk, then I will," said Fox, sounding more than a bit frustrated, "Your brother
was one of the best men I ever knew.  He was honest, kind, and loyal, and he knew how to make
the rest of us laugh when we most needed it.  Even small things."  EVEN HIS CONSTANT
STUTTERING.  BUT THEN, YOU DON'T EVEN DO THAT, DO YOU?  "I'd like to end this
hostility between us.  I don't think Slippy would have wanted us to hate each other."  
     "WELL, we'll never know now!  Will we!"  shouted Tad, finally breaking his silence. 
Everyone around them looked up in surprise.  "Just before he died, he told me that you were
covering him when he was shot!  You were supposed to protect him!"  He then launched himself
at Fox, his hands clamping around Fox's throat with a grip of steel!  Caught unprepared by the
attack, Fox was knocked back by its force.  The two toppled to the ground, with Tad's hands still
wrapped around Fox's neck.  Instantly, Fox's survival training and instincts kicked in.  He started
pounding upward on Tad's arms with his fists, trying to break Tad's grip.  He began to feel
light-headed and things gradually started to grow dark.  He was only dimly aware of his fists'
breaking Tad's grip, and of one of his legs' bending and rising to press his foot against Tad's
stomach.  The leg pushed upward and outward, sending Tad flying through the air and over the
bed Fox had sat in only a moment before.  Then, everything went black.  
     As the world faded back into view, Fox recognized Dr. Coles kneeling beside him, saying
something.  But he knew not what.  As he regained consciousness, he looked over at Tad, whom,
Fox finally realized, was being strapped into his bed by security personnel and sedated by a doctor. 

     "Are you all right?" she asked, obviously concerned.  
     "Yeah, I'm ok," he replied, "But I think my heart broke the sound barrier."  
     She chuckled, helping him to his feet.  "What was that all about, anyway?"  she asked.  
     "I tried to settle things between us.  It didn't work."     "Tad's been sedated, so he should be
out for a couple of hours,"  Dr. Coles remarked, "but I think you should be gone when he wakes."  
     Fox agreed.  
     The Security Chief approach Fox,  "Are you alright, sir?" he asked.  
     "Yes, Chief, I'm fine."  
     "I believe that Pvt. Toad should be incarcerated now for this action,"  the Chief advised.  
     Fox looked to Dr. Coles, who then said, "I can't give any medical reason against moving
him.  He quite clearly demonstrated that he is able to move about.  However, I would want to
check up on him every once in a while, just to play it safe."  
     Fox considered it for a moment, then said, "The brig?  I don't think so.  We're going to
need all the at least reasonably able-bodied people we can get should we be attacked, including
him.  Besides, assuming he and any of us survive this, we can punish him after this is over."  
     "But, Capt. McCloud, he attacked you!" the Chief protested, but to no avail.  
     "That's my decision, Chief.  He's to be left here in the restraints.  You can, however, keep
a man here to watch him."  Fox declared.  
     "Yes, sir," the Chief mumbled, then walked away.  BESIDES, TAD HAS ENOUGH OF
A GRUDGE AGAINST ME WITHOUT FEELING THAT I JAILED HIM.
     So, after a physical examination yielded no evidence of further injury, Fox departed for the
docking bay.  
     When Fox arrived, he found the place bursting with activity.  He saw two men talking and
gesturing.  Behind them, he was pleased to see his arwing, seemingly relatively undamaged. 
GOOD.  I'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT IN THAT SHIP, AND I THINK WE'RE GOING TO
NEED IT SOON.  
     For the next few hours, Fox hefted all sorts of parts, and helped move the injured to the
infirmary.  With each person found alive, came a new feeling of elation; with each one found dead
came a new feeling of melancholy.  Despite all the death he had seen in his life, Fox had not
grown callous to it, and for that he was infinitely grateful.  That melancholy kept him from  trying
to solve all his problems with violence.  Eventually, the findings stopped coming, and the search
was called off.  Final count: 127 dead, 60 injured out of 200 people.  A horrible loss, but the worst
was still yet to come.  Fox approached Graves, who was at his comm station on the bridge.  "Are
the comm systems working?" he asked. 
     "Yes, sir," was the only reply he got.  
     "Has Engineer Sloane reported in on the ship repairs?"      "Yes, we should have twelve
shuttles and six arwings functional in another thirty minutes.  The rest were damaged beyond
repair."  
     Fox could understand the man's lack of desire to speak at length, and so simply said,
"Good.  At the earliest possible time, I want as many of the injured as possible on the shuttles and
away.  I hope that they'll be able to return for more.  We'll need the arwings here.  Understand?" 
Graves nodded.  
     Satisfied, Fox took his place in the command chair.  The Lieutenant that he relieved, who
couldn't help but notice that Fox was clutching his flight helmet, simply mouthed "nothing" and
left.     "As you all know, we're under threat of attack from a powerful enemy.  What you may not
know is that they may be us.  That is, our counterparts from another universe.  I thought you
should know the truth.  The SpaceForce has dispatched two battleships to this area to assist us," 
Fox broadcast to all on board, "But, it will take them four days to get here.  We have to hold our
attackers here, no matter the cost.  Fox out."  TWELVE SHUTTLES, EACH WITH A
MAXIMUM CAPACITY OF 4 PEOPLE, SOME OF US MAY NOT BE ABLE TO
EVACUATE, EVEN IF IT MEANS DEATH IF WE DON'T.  Fox shooed that thought away,
and waited for the event he hoped would not happen, but believed to be inevitable.  He had given
the order to maintain continuous nightview surveillance of the wormhole.  It was a large power
drain, he knew, but this was much more important than keeping power consumption down.  
     It was not long in coming.  Barely ninety minutes later, a half hour after the first group of
injured had been evacuated, one ship, the likes of which Fox had never before seen,  appeared on
the screen.  It was surrounded by the same blue aura as the scout ship.  
     "According to your data," warned Graves, who was now also serving as tactical officer,
"We are looking at a Destructor Class battleship."  
     "Battlestations!  Raise shields!" yelled Fox.  Then, speaking into the microphone in his
flight helmet, he commanded, "All able-bodied pilots to their arwings!"  Fox, his eyes fixed on the
viewscreen, turned toward Graves and said, "Contact Venom and tell them to keep the shuttles
there.  Then, contact base Guilford on Macbeth.  The invasion has begun."