Hello all, this is a fic I'm currently transporting from another site over to here. It started out as a small vignette but then it just kept growing, so it's gonna be a few chapters long- as of right now, I'm finishing up the last chapter so it will be completed fairly soon.
I have never written Fara before (other than her brief appearance in Sunglasses) and I recently re-read the Itoh comics. I thought she was a cool character concept that was sorely underdeveloped, so I decided to go in depth with her character. I tried to envision where she would be and what she would be doing after the Lylat Wars. I actually became a rather big fan of writing her halfway through this and I hope to write more fics involving her soon!
As a fair warning, this fic contains struggles regarding mental illness, particularly anxiety and depression. If you think that will upset you in any way, please avoid!
Chapter 1: A Lingering Flame
They had said goodbye two years after the Lylat Wars had ended. It was not in the way she had expected it to go. They had been like two wildfires, raging against the world with their hearts on their sleeves. But then they had dwindled. And then their love had extinguished. Fara could not have confessed aloud that she shared blame. She would have rather said it was his wanderlust and his distance since he had left the Academy. But silently, she confessed to herself that she should have done more. She should have been more. She should have, in the least, been enough. And she had failed in that regard. And now, Fox was gone… and she was left to her own devices.
Regret had eaten away at her for the last five years. She had courted fine young officers on and off, primarily at the request of her father, but they were dulled minds. They had been meant to drink up the propaganda, living their life for ideals spouted by whoever wore that crimson general's coat. Fara knew once, she had been no different. But the older she got, the more cynical she became. Those demure eyes had been replaced with an edge that cut deeper than knives.
Life continued and though it had been cruel to her, it had also been kind. The removal of Yaru de Pon from his presidential seat at Space Dynamics had shifted the power structure of the company around. General Pepper and Beltino Toad had merged the company officially into the Cornerian Army, and Fara had been moved into a higher-ranked position. In all actuality, her title was something so long even she could not keep track of it—what she cared about were the ships they gave her to fly.
They gave her the best-of-the-best, of course. These were the ships so experimental that the populace was unaware of their existence. They were a hair under the performance of the Arwing—and Fara only knew that was due to the lack of James McCloud's genius on the designing committee. But it did not matter; they flew like gods in the sky and sent that adrenaline spike through her veins that kept her alive through the years of bitter regret. In a world that seemed to have passed her by, flying kept her smiling. And so she flew every day she could.
And that particular day was no exception.
She hopped off her hoverbike and unfastened her helmet. Leaving it on the handle of her bike, she strode into the Flight Test Center with her typical faked cockiness. She had learned how to master masking her storming emotions long ago, keeping stoic as the glass doors slid open.
Professionalism, professionalism, professionalism. Another day in the office, let's make it a good one! Fara chanted to herself, hands stuck into the pockets of her leather jacket in a tomboyish fashion. And by "the office", she, of course, meant another day of zipping around the Cornerian sky.
The Flight Test Center was a pristine building kept in pristine condition. It had been built three years ago after much debate and discussion as to where the experimental ships needed to be tested. Inside of the capital seemed like too much of a risk and so General Pepper had ordered Space Dynamics to take their experiments outside of city limits. Beyond the Dober Mountain Range, they had found some measure of solitude from the public. The only folk who came out into the mountains were those looking to hike in the Cornerian frontier (or what was slimly left of it after rampant urbanization). But those numbers were small and hefty metallic fences kept away any who stumbled across the research facility.
Admittedly, the commute was not ideal from the city to the Flight Test Center. Yet Fara endured it, cherishing the winding road and the feel of the breeze against her fur. Space Dynamics offered her a suite on-site but she had refused it; living life away from society just felt like a bad idea. Even if the loud cityscape was a far cry from Papetoon, the silence was sometimes scarier than the constant screeching of sirens.
The lobby of the Center was vaguely busy. A small line had formed to get into the Center proper. Its progress was hampered by a security guard and a scanner that would check anyone for any prohibited items. Since the Lylat Wars, everything had changed. Security had never been tighter and the punishment even for bringing a fake blaster onto governmental property was hefty. Fara could not remember the last time she had kept a weapon on her.
"Good morning, Ms. Phoenix!" the receptionist, a kindly old hound, beamed at her as she filed into the line next to the front desk.
"Good morning!" Fara replied with a tiny smile. "How are you today?" She tried her best not to sound robotic and to sound sincere.
"I am just fine! Took the grandkids out to the movies yesterday and got my nails done over the weekend with my daughter," the receptionist flashed her nails at Fara as she swiped in with her cardkey. The hound's nails had been done in a bright pink that reminded Fara of the dolls her parents used to buy her when she had been a kit. They had always been donned in rosy, frilly dresses with too much lace… And she had hated each and every one of them.
"Oh, that's a pretty color," Fara complimented the elderly lady regardless. The receptionist's smile warmed the fennec's heart.
"Maybe next time, you should come with us!" the receptionist called as Fara began to walk through the scanner. The guard did not seem to care at all about his job and stood with a glassy expression and his arms folded over his chest.
"Haha, you'll have to book an appointment with me, I'm afraid! The boss told me I'll be getting overtime until they've finished tuning the new model!" Fara replied with a laugh fringing her voice.
Down the hallway was the elevator, which she took to the third floor as she did every work day. The third floor spilled out into a hallway of gray walls and broad glass windows. Offices lined the hall in pairs with nameplates hanging at each door. Fara had gotten used to their pattern over the last few years. There had been little turn over in the facility—everyone was passionate and the administration was not keen on letting many go. Not without oodles and oodles of paperwork that Fara was certain they did not particularly enjoy dealing with.
She made it to the lounge, which smelled thick of coffee and buzzed with the news. It was always something political—talk shows debating the successor of General Pepper (a hot topic, as there were rumors surrounding the general's retirement) and discussing the bubbling Oikonny Rebellion, which had taken up refuge in the outskirts of the Lylat System.
But today, it was playing something different.
There was a small gathering by the TV—interns and engineers alike standing with their mugs of cooling coffee as the news anchors gave their report. In the corner, Fara noticed the image of a fertile, green planet. Underneath the picture were the words "DINOSAUR PLANET" beneath it. She raised her brows in mild interest but decided that coffee was more important. The fennec found the coffee pot already filled by some kindly soul and so she poured herself a healthy supply into her canister.
As she began about doctoring the coffee up with sugar and creamer, her large ears swiveled in the direction of the television. Someone cranked the volume up a little louder.
The news anchor spoke, "… don't know the extent of how this is possible, what we do know is the name of the hero responsible for the planet coming back together. James "Fox" McCloud Jr, back in the news for the first time in a while—"
Fara nearly gave herself whiplash. She looked at the screen with wide green eyes, grip like a vice around her canister. The image of the planet had been replaced by a picture of Fox. He looked matured. Slightly rugged but Fara had expected that. Without thinking, she moved closer to the TV.
"While we could not establish an on-screen interview with McCloud, we did receive a statement from wingman and former Cornerian officer Peppy Hare. It reads: 'We did what any other citizen of the Cornerian Empire would've done—we saw what was going on and we went to help. Dinosaur Planet is an ancient planet, full of great people and great beauty. We would save it all over again if we had to.'… Touching words from former Officer Hare," the news anchor said. "And now, live on Liberty Square is Stella Skysweep. Stella, can you describe the scene there?"
Dinosaur Planet… You really did go and see everything, didn't you, Fox?
The image on the screen shifted to a young blonde dog, clutching a microphone in one hand. She was clearly in a crowd, with other news reporters all around her with their equipment and crews clustered about the food of a platform. Its podium was unoccupied.
"Right now we are awaiting a statement from General Pepper on the revelations of Dinosaur Planet's near explosion in the Outreach Rim. While the area has historically never been heavy in traffic, scientists project an explosion would cause a ripple effect through the Lylat System so massive that even the capital would-" Stella explained.
Yet her report was cut short by the entrance of the Boss. It was not often that he swung by the lounge. Fara's large ears detected his foot pattern before he made it to the doorway. Immediately, she stiffened, looking to the grim-faced, harlequin Great Dane with beady eyes and drooping jowls. He stood at an impressive height, ever looking down his snout at the others.
His name was Richard Kelvin. At the age of 65, he was one of the oldest members of the army still serving, although he had taken a leadership role in the Flight Test Center. He had achieved the rank of Admiral during the Cornerian Civil War—one of the few old coots alive with enough heart to even discuss what had happened on the battlefield. Not that it particularly mattered—no one dared to ask him the things he had seen during those dark days. No one dared to ask him about his missing left ear or the scrap metal scars on his forearms.
"Sir!" the interns saluted him, one of them nearly spilling his coffee.
He nodded to them, grunting something under his breath and walked to the coffee pot. His mug was massive, fitting nicely in his enormous grip. Draining the rest of the pot by himself, he gave little notice to the television set.
"Officer Phoenix," he said once he had filled his mug a hairsbreadth from the rim. "How are you today?"
"Good, sir," Fara said respectfully.
"I hope you are ready for today's flight. We are close to getting the Quasar Mark IV combat-ready," he replied, taking a drink from his black-as-night coffee. Fara almost grimaced for him.
"Just a few more tests and then we can start mass-producing!" Fara chimed back with pep and zeal.
"General Pepper will not be joining us today, unfortunately. I trust you have seen the news?" Admiral Richard asked her.
Her nails clicked against her canister, grip tightening. It took a lot to maintain control over her emotions. "Yes, I did," Fara replied. "It looks like the General's going to have a lot on his plate today."
"I wish him luck. Better him than me, though," the Admiral replied. "Suit up when you have finished your coffee. We will start testing the Quasar IV in an hour. Next week, we will move onto the Roadrunner II. The General has been urging us to complete testing for the Quasar—this week or he will be making investigations as to why it is incomplete..." He gave pause for a moment, turning his perpetually melancholy eyes to Fara. "And Officer Phoenix? Please refrain from daydreaming in the cockpit today. I would rather not keep our engineers up until dawn replacing any missing wings…"
She felt her cheeks warm beneath her sandy fur. "Ah-! O-of course, Admiral."
He vanished through the doorway shortly after, but his comment lingered on her mind. Pride stinging, she massaged her forehead with a hand. Thoughts mulling over the last few days, she tried her hardest not to take his remark to heart.
It had started with a careless maneuver. A somersault too close to the ground and then, well… a scuffed hull. Not too bad to repair, just the paintwork. The Admiral had been fine with it then. Even the chief engineers had gotten a few laughs from her folly. But then, it was taking the ship too low and clipping a ridge with a wing. She had tried to pass it off as an engineering failure but her second flight had proved her words against her when she had tried the same maneuver. And then it had been a near collision with a passenger carrier on its way into space. The mistakes stacked. Slowly but surely. She had felt the Admiral's disappointment swelling as the testing dragged on for the Quasar IV.
It'll be fine. We have all week to finish it. Just a few more tests and then it'll be done.
She nursed her coffee for a bit longer. The inevitability of having to do work made her drag herself to her prep room. Fara changed from her jacket, jeans, and fitted V-neck and into a white and green flight suit. She caught her own eye in the mirror nearby. Shadows had formed tiny valleys beneath her bright peridot irises, dwelling like unwelcome guests. Her earthy, warm brown eyeshadow had done little to mask her tiredness. Fara smiled at herself but it fell from her lips as soon as it formed.
Professionalism, professionalism, professionalism! Today, we're going to focus. Getting lost in the clouds is fun. Getting reprimanded for nearly crashing… not so fun.
Once, she had felt sharp as an arrow, quick as a cheetah, and as tall as a mountain. Those days felt like a lifetime ago.
I wonder what Dinosaur Planet is like.
The thought barreled her over like a runaway train. She looked into the mirror and imagined Fox standing next to her. Where his hand rested on her shoulder, she moved hers to meet it. But there was no warmth to be found there—only empty air and she breathed out a sigh.
It's been so long but I still don't know who I am without him. A test pilot? I feel like I've been in this rut forever…
She tried to shake the melancholy away.
Professionalism. Right. Let's do this.
Bitter nostalgia still clung to her like a gaudy, bad perfume. She wore it down the hallway with a sour, stinging gaze. Fara told herself to focus the entire ride down to the hanger but it was a futile mantra—every other breath, she imagined the worlds that Fox had seen. It was fondly that she thought of the Star Fox team… fondly with a hefty dose of heartache. Perhaps if she had not sized their plan up so quickly… Perhaps if she had gone with them…
No, my place was here. Helping my people in the way I knew how to best do it. I shouldn't regret that. I helped test flight ships that caused us to win the war.
But there was ever a flame of doubt in Fara's mind.
When was the last time I left Corneria? When was the last time I truly lived?