Chapter 1: Back to school
"And the copper wires of the neo-dispatcher fit riiight here, and- Falco! Er, I mean Mr. Lombardi, are you paying attention?"
"Nope," the blue falcon replied, having pulled the copper wire around his feathery finger several time to cut off his circulation.
The fish-eyed instructor frowned, but continued with the demonstration. He settled the black casing for the new transport system on to the laboratory's center table. Normally this had been an operating room, but for today it was to be used as a temporary electronics classroom. The teacher mumbled something then flicked the power switch on his electronic contraption. Nothing happened. He tried again, his flabby lips twitching nervously, but to no avail.
Falco raised his hand, much to the discontent of his teacher.
"What is it, Mr. Lombardi?" the fishy professor frowned.
Falco uncoiled the copper wire from around his numb finger and pointed to the base of the box. He raised the one in front of him for all to see.
"You're wires are crossed here," he pointed to the first of a series of wire clamps, "here," he tapped on the seventh outlet in the third row and," he couldn't help but smile smugly at this, "you haven't inserted the battery yet."
The instructor blinked his eyes in bewilderment. He flipped his machine around and sure enough, the battery was missing. The cross wires he wasn't certain of though. "My word..."
Falco stood up and with a display of vain showmanship, took a bow while the class applauded.
Falco leaned back in his chair, once again twisting the copper wire around his other finger. He hated these mandatory electronics update courses. He could've built a spaceship from scratch if he had wanted to, but he had better things to do, like bounty hunting. Cutting off the blood flow from his fingers was all that he could do to keep himself awake in a room that reeked of chemical cleaner and formaldehyde. Obviously the planet Cornaria had been cutting back on educational funds these past few years, diverting all profits to the reconstruction of those cities demolished by combat.
He relaxed his shoulders and closed his sharp eyes for just a moment. Three years had passed since the war of the Lylat system, three years of freedom from the sadistic planet Venom. It was the war that had made him famous, or at least semi-famous. Fox was always a first class celebrity at award ceremonies and all the televised interviews. The media starved after Fox Mcloud, going so far a to nickname him the platinum soldier of fortune. Falco and the other crewmembers, Slippy and Peppy had rarely been addressed upon, and were usually just referred to as the crew. Platinum... How could Falco compete with something so high? Sure he was intelligent and damn good looking, but he didn't have that status; A captain's status. He glanced over at Fox, who was rigidly sitting in his plastic seat, his pencil flying quickly across his page as usual. His yellow eyes shifted from the instructor, to his sheet of paper, then back again. What wasn't there to like about Fox? He's charming, polite, attentive and above all, a well respected leader.
Falco pulled himself from the sticky chair and clicked his knapsack on to his left shoulder.
The instructor once again peered in his direction. "Mr. Lombardi, are you leaving so soon?"
"Not that I don't love the smell of lingering corpses, but I think I'll go have a breath of unprocessed air and snack before break time."
He caught Fox's glare of disapproval from the corner of his eye. An odd sensation of frivolous contentment danced upon him. No, he wasn't Fox; He was better, and he would prove his worth.
"And the copper wires of the neo-dispatcher fit riiight here, and- Falco! Er, I mean Mr. Lombardi, are you paying attention?"
"Nope," the blue falcon replied, having pulled the copper wire around his feathery finger several time to cut off his circulation.
The fish-eyed instructor frowned, but continued with the demonstration. He settled the black casing for the new transport system on to the laboratory's center table. Normally this had been an operating room, but for today it was to be used as a temporary electronics classroom. The teacher mumbled something then flicked the power switch on his electronic contraption. Nothing happened. He tried again, his flabby lips twitching nervously, but to no avail.
Falco raised his hand, much to the discontent of his teacher.
"What is it, Mr. Lombardi?" the fishy professor frowned.
Falco uncoiled the copper wire from around his numb finger and pointed to the base of the box. He raised the one in front of him for all to see.
"You're wires are crossed here," he pointed to the first of a series of wire clamps, "here," he tapped on the seventh outlet in the third row and," he couldn't help but smile smugly at this, "you haven't inserted the battery yet."
The instructor blinked his eyes in bewilderment. He flipped his machine around and sure enough, the battery was missing. The cross wires he wasn't certain of though. "My word..."
Falco stood up and with a display of vain showmanship, took a bow while the class applauded.
Falco leaned back in his chair, once again twisting the copper wire around his other finger. He hated these mandatory electronics update courses. He could've built a spaceship from scratch if he had wanted to, but he had better things to do, like bounty hunting. Cutting off the blood flow from his fingers was all that he could do to keep himself awake in a room that reeked of chemical cleaner and formaldehyde. Obviously the planet Cornaria had been cutting back on educational funds these past few years, diverting all profits to the reconstruction of those cities demolished by combat.
He relaxed his shoulders and closed his sharp eyes for just a moment. Three years had passed since the war of the Lylat system, three years of freedom from the sadistic planet Venom. It was the war that had made him famous, or at least semi-famous. Fox was always a first class celebrity at award ceremonies and all the televised interviews. The media starved after Fox Mcloud, going so far a to nickname him the platinum soldier of fortune. Falco and the other crewmembers, Slippy and Peppy had rarely been addressed upon, and were usually just referred to as the crew. Platinum... How could Falco compete with something so high? Sure he was intelligent and damn good looking, but he didn't have that status; A captain's status. He glanced over at Fox, who was rigidly sitting in his plastic seat, his pencil flying quickly across his page as usual. His yellow eyes shifted from the instructor, to his sheet of paper, then back again. What wasn't there to like about Fox? He's charming, polite, attentive and above all, a well respected leader.
Falco pulled himself from the sticky chair and clicked his knapsack on to his left shoulder.
The instructor once again peered in his direction. "Mr. Lombardi, are you leaving so soon?"
"Not that I don't love the smell of lingering corpses, but I think I'll go have a breath of unprocessed air and snack before break time."
He caught Fox's glare of disapproval from the corner of his eye. An odd sensation of frivolous contentment danced upon him. No, he wasn't Fox; He was better, and he would prove his worth.