Author's Note: I do not own Sly Cooper. I won't say EXACTLY when this takes place, but it is before the newest game. Also, I refuse to believe that the Thieves in Time Penelope is truly Penelope, there had to be something else at play there.

Father

Penelope was in her hanger, working on the Black Baron plane. It was almost hard to believe how many years have passed. Now she's old enough to participate in any dog fight tournaments, but the Black Baron became such a staple that she had to stay in the outfit. Placing her tools away, the Dutch mouse took a moment to look at a picture of her, much younger, being held by an adult mouse.

"Dad" she thought aloud. He was so kind, caring, he was a great father. He taught her how to maintain planes, how to fly, and every dog fight trick in the book. Then a small feeling of depression crept over her. Maybe if he wasn't a pilot, a fighter pilot to be exact, he'd still be here.

A Few Years Ago...

"Why can't I enter the tournament?" A teenage Penelope asked.

"I told you Penelope, you're too young." Her father answered, "It's still a few years before you can enter."

"It's just not fair." Penelope complained, "I know how to fly, you taught me every trick in the book. I should be allowed to enter."

"You know skill isn't a factor they bring in." Her father responded, "How many years have we seen pilots who can barely get their planes up to altitude?"

"That's true."

"So just be patient alright?" Her father said, "Once you can enter, I'll be glad to have you on my team."

Final Round...

"It's the final round folks!" The announcer's voice was carried all over by the speakers, "The Baron's team is up against Team England. Before the planes take to the sky, let's just run a quick recap on the teams. Team Baron is lead by the semi-local Baron Basore. He's been the running champion for years now. With a plane as dark as a raven's wing, a few have started calling him the Black Baron. Team England is lead by ace pilot Peter Acworth. Rumored descendent of one of the single greatest pilots of WWI England who shot down over 100 enemy planes before being shot down by an Otto von Cooper. But now that we know the head pilots for each team, let's let the planes take over the talking."

Both teams where in the sky, and they where both losing numbers. But Team England was losing guys just a little faster than Team Baron. But Penelope didn't care. She loved watching her father fly. He was like a master, no one could shoot him down. And she couldn't wait to be in a plane helping him. Bullets where flying all over the place, but her father just waved in between them, like his plane just repelled them. Then he must have lost focus or something, a few rounds grazed the side of his plane and his propeller started to slow. As his plane started to start crashing to the ground, the whole moment seemed to slow to a crawl to the teenage mouse. None of the safety devices in his plane, designed to get him out of the plane should it start crashing, seemed to trigger. His plane hit the ground in an explosive crash, her father still in it.

"Folks please remain calm." the announcer said, "We have a rescue team inspecting the crash. Hang on, I am afraid to admit, the Blue Baron is no more. It's believed he died on impact. Now, as he was shot down, it is rules that once the reigning champion is shot down, the final round shall end. So, Team England is now the champion team."

Penelope ran. Her father, the greatest man she ever knew, was dead, and all anyone cared about was who was the winner of the tournament. She had to do something. Something to take that title back. Don't get ahead of yourself. Penelope thought, Maybe he actually cares that he took a man's life. But he didn't. While Penelope couldn't bring herself to leave her father's hanger, she listened to the end interview. All he cared was that he was clearly the greatest pilot there was. She paced around the hanger.

"I can't believe that man!" She ranted, "He has to fight next year. And once he's in the sky, I'll shoot him down. I'll take back my father's title. But I can't enter. Wait...I can't enter. Nothing says someone else can't." So the dutch got to work. Next year, a new Black Baron would be in the skies. One just as good as her father, after all, he would have trained him. She could hardly wait. "Enjoy the championship while you can Acworth," She said, "Because next year, it's coming back to where it belongs."

Modern Day...

Penelope let out a sigh. Yeah, the Black Baron was created to win back the Championship, but the thrill of the tournament, it's what kept her putting it back on. She then started holding her own. And she never lost. She couldn't lose. She couldn't let anyone else be the best until she was dead. A knock at the hanger startled her.

"Black Baron sir? Are you in there?" Penelope started looking fragrantly.

"Where is it, where is it?" She said quietly before finding some kind of mic, "There it is."

"Sir? Are you there?"

"Of course I am!" Penelope said into the mic, her voice now much deeper, gruffer, and all around male-like, "The next competitors for the ACES tournament are about to show up, got to make sure my plain is ready don't I?"

"May I come in? It's awkward talking through the door."

"No! I mean, I told you only me and my personal mechanic Penelope are allowed in my hanger."

"You're right. I'm sorry." The voice said, "Also, there's a man waiting at the hotel. He's asking for the job as the commentator. I think his name is Dimitri."

"Think?" Penelope asked.

"I can't understand a word coming from that man's mouth." The voice on the other side of the door said, "I think what he said was 'yo man, this big cat in your sights is Dimitri. I'm looking to drop some greasy sweet voices all over this tournament'."

"Hm." Penelope said, "Well tell him to sit tight. I'll be there in a bit."

"Yes sir." Penelope heard the man walk away. She turned off the mic and took a deep breath. She could feel it in the air, it was going to be a good year for the ACES Tournament.