Foxtrot Sonata
By
Gino C.
Chapter 1: Celestial Prelude
Fox wasn't sure if it was his head or the recycled air inside the command deck that was making him so dizzy. The whole ship was like that, sterile, hazy, dry... the air filters kept it that way. Every bit of oxygen had to be saved and purified to save resources, to the point where pure oxygen was just about what the crew of the Great Fox were breathing each day. Each and every day, for six months worth of days now. Six long months since they had last came to port. Cabin fever wasn't exactly what Fox would have called the impending madness he and his crew were facing, considering that four people wasn't exactly enough to make it cramped quarters on a ship so large as the Great Fox. In fact, Fox doubted the entire of Grayfox's decks could even be walked over in a given day. No, privacy and new places weren't the issue on the starship Great Fox. Fox himself believed it was more a question of boredom.
The eerie would-be silence, sullened only by the low whirr of the large twin sub-light engines propelling the behemoth of steel, plastic, and various paints and wires through the void known as "unclaimed space" on the crews long trek to the small planet of Yujri was enough to drive Fox insane all on its own, but coupled with the blazing noises of Slippy's salvaged pre-interplanetary aged jukebox repeating the same seven out-of-date (not to mention style) rock and roll albums were absolutely unbearable.
The space before Fox out the three foot thick reinforced dura-plastic veiwport on the command deck of the great ship, acting as an endless and repetitive panorama of little blinking balls of selestial light coming from zillions of miles away wasn't helping much either.
It was just as Fox was beginning to drift into an ever desired near-coma rest, his only possible escape from the clash of low droning sub-light hum, and ear splitting electric guitar noises, that one of the other members of the small crew decided it would be a good idea to occupy the same room as he on that large hotel-sized mass of ship known as Great Fox.
"Foooox!" Falco Lombardi, Fox's only wingman in time of conflict as of late, after Peppy retiring to the navigation chair from old age, and Slippy having his hand-eye coordination thrown horribly off by a severe head trauma during a mission months back, was a rough-and-tumble sort of guy. His personality was almost as feirce as the red circles the feathers around his eye formed, and almost as cool as the smooth cobalt the rest of his birdlike-body desplayed. From the center of his arrow-headed face, a short, but prominent yellow beak protruded, making Falco look all around mean sometimes.
"What, what? What is it? I'm up!" Fox said, jumping to attention. His orange furred ears perked up, and his handsome face followed. Fox was a real easy-going sort, the kind of guy you could approach and have a convorsation with even if you didn't know him. His little black nose was a perfect hood ornament to his canine snout of white fur, which abruptly cut to orange the further up his face you traveled. Long, brittle, and nearly too fine to see, a set of six whiskers protruded from either side of Fox's muzzle, and his eyes reflected a jaded green light, like an evergreen tree.
"Fox!" Falco shouted again, his voice laden with the slightest glowing sparks of indignance. "Fox, the scopes say we're nearing the planet. I thought you might like to know, that we'll be there within 48 hours, and you're supposed to pack you bags."
"Thanks a bundle, mom." Fox droned, lazily dragging his half-sleeping body up into a more dignified position in the large, leather captains chair he had been napping in. Yawning loudly, he gave his neck a moment to find a comfortable way for his head to set on it, before swiveling around in the chair to face his comrade. "Did you pack me a bagged lunch wel you were at it?"
Falco crinckled his forhead and gave Fox a stern glare. Placing one hand on his hip, and the other out to his side in a gesture like 'as if you didn't notice' and spoke over his shoulder with every drop of indignance and sarcasm he could squeeze from himself. "Well, excuse me, fearless leader! I didn't realize it was still nap time. If you want to hang around on this hunk-of-junk for another halfa year, be my guest, but this next stop is mine. We wouldn't even BE here if you hadn't gotten us all so hyped up over a little job."
"Hey now, killjoy, I'm only joking. Besides, this is no 'little job' as you so put it! We're talking a good 1,000,000 credits! That's a lot of money. Maybe even enough to hvae your beak removed." Fox smiled at his little quip, watching Falco cross his arms huffily, and leapt up from his chair. "Rob!" Rob was the ships in house maintenance and communications robot, built by Slippy, who somehow always managed to find time to work on little inventions like the robot all the time, despite his never ending duties as on-ship mechanic. Falco often, when in his surly-er states of mind, mused that if Slippy hadn't have made Rob for the purpose of getting things fixed faster, only about half the things aroudn the ship that needed repair would even be broken. It was true that Slippy did spend a lot of time on his own things, but he was still atrustworthy mechanic, and a good friend. Plus, trying to pry that toad away from his inventions would be like ripping a brand new toy from the arms of a small child.
"Yes sir?" 'Whirr' and 'Fzzzzt' were the acurate sound effects to apply to the robot Rob's stalky metal body. The machines shiny, metal head was about the size and shape of a toaster with a steel ring around it. Near the center of the bot's front faceplate was a red-orange visor which it saw through in the variations of blue and red that was heat vision. It's body, like a slightly more elegant cyllindar, gave way to a tiny waist, no larger than your average, run of the mill canned soup tin. Below this, a shiny pelvic plate and stalky metal legs supported the mis-shapen robot on the cold steel floor of the starship. From the sides of it's body, boxy, steel arms and joints formed somewhat of a pair of grappling appendeges who's claws were more comparable to an industrial crane's clamp than a hand.
"Call Slippy and Peppy on deck, would you?" The way Fox spoke, you wouldn't think of Rob as a Robot at all, but as another member of the crew. Even though Fox knew that the robot would have done with a simple command, he felt it was good practice to be polite when making a command. It was always the dictatorial captains who seemed to be the first to be mutinized. Not that Fox was much worried that a kind old rabbit like Peppy Hare, a mild mannered inventor with a depth perception problem like Slippy Toad, and a hot headed, short tempered hot-shot like Falco Lombardi would ever ACTUALLY make mutiny against him.
"Yes sir." Rob whirred and clicked, and stomped his staggering metal way to the com system controls with little clanking stpes that echoed through the the room. With a whinning metallic sound, Rob's claw-like hand pressed the red button labeled 'send to all decks', and spoke into the com system's microphone. "All personnel, report to the Command Deck. I repeat, please report to the Command Deck, that is all."
Minutes later, a clamor of metal and other junk could be heard, and the obnoxious sounds of the muffled electric guitar that were once ringing in Fox's ears ceased. Feet could be heard, padding irregularly down the hallways that led up into the Great Fox's isolated command deck, like some many-legged critter with a limp, scuttling towards the little control room. The steel doors that led from the blue tinted, chrome colored command deck slid aside with a 'fwoooosh' noise, and gave way to the two forms on the other side of it's not-quite triangular portal. In the doorway stood two short figures both clad in the trademark off-gray jackets and collared shirts worn by the crew of the mercenary unit Starfox. Despite the similar apparel (which the whole crew, including Fox, were known to wear) the two forms in the doorway looked absolutely nothing alike. The first of the two, on the left of the doorway, was an old, proud-looking rabbit, long gray ears coming about a foot over his furry head, and a white plume of beard on the end of his chin. His nose was adorned with a pair of small spectacles, and body looked rather tough, despite his age.
In contrast, the other of the two figures in the doorway was a young toad, his green face about the shape of a stopsign, with a pair of large, circular eyes poking up from its top. Between these eyes sat a red cap with the word "SLIPPY" embroidered in big, yellow letters. Overall a stout and happy looking little fellow.
"What's up, fox?" The toad squeaked in a highpitched voice that would have shattered the three foot dura-plastic viewport of the command deck had it been any more treble.
"Yeah, what's the deal, captain?" Another contrast, the voice of the rabbit standing next to Slippy Toad was very serene and almost raspy, like talking through static, only backwards.
"Well," Fox said, stepping up to his crew. A large, and inviting smile crossed the mercenaries plush face, and he gave a little chuckle. "Falco has informed me that we will be arriving on the planet Yujri in just under forty-eight hours."
"Woah!" Slippy squealed, his already bulbous eyes seeming to widen. "You mean we finally get to dock? As in no more outer-space for a while?"
"Haw! I finally get some peace and quiet from that awful music Slippy's always blaring!" Peppy exclaimed, a look of excitement claiming his weathered eyes.
"Hey! It's not so bad..." Slippy whined, folding his arms across his chest. Fox cold only laugh. They were finally going to be off of the ship! It was like a dream come true.
"Yeah, well I just can't wait to get the job done so we have some money. Won't exactly be an exciting stay when we blew the majority of our saving getting there." Falco crossed the room and took a seat in the asistant command chair, gazing scronfully at the space outside the dura-plastic window.
"Oh, come off it, Falco." Fox's words were absolutely guilded with importune tone, as he lazily strolled over to the command console. Fox punched in a few keys and a holographic image of the planet Yujri appeared before them all. It was a small, blue-green planet, dotted with gray masses that were likely its major cities. The whole planet wasn't much larger than a good sized moon, and it orbited a sun that was just as dwarfish in comparison. It's axis provided for a good 19 hour day, and about a 200 day year, a particularly odd calindar. "Once we arrive on Yujri, half our job is done. How hard could it possibly be fore us, the elite Starfox Team, to round up a couple of bank robbers?"
"Oh, I suppose about as hard as it was to 'round up' a couple of murderous bounty hunters on Zoness eight months ago, when you game me the same reassuring speech. And I don't need to remind you how THAT ended, with the bounty hunters escaping and --" Falco was cut off abruptly, as Fox raised his hand.
"-- and crashing into a stallite wile trying to make a sub-light jump, killing both of them, and causing us to get nothing out of the job. If you 'don't need to remind me', then don't remind me, please. Besides, this is defferent. These guys wouldn't dare try to get off planet with the load of jewels their carrying. They would NEVER get past the inter stellar scan, which is precisly why they had time to call in us, the best of the best." Declared Fox, a tone of arrogance in his voice. Falco laughed.
"It amazes me that no matter how well we did on the last mission, we're still 'the best of the best'." Falco said, warming up a bit. He had lost his surley tone for a more playful one.
"Hey, what can I say? We're professionals!" Fox said, grinning widely. Falco chuckled, and fox chuckled, and pretty soon the whole crew was laughing.
By
Gino C.
Chapter 1: Celestial Prelude
Fox wasn't sure if it was his head or the recycled air inside the command deck that was making him so dizzy. The whole ship was like that, sterile, hazy, dry... the air filters kept it that way. Every bit of oxygen had to be saved and purified to save resources, to the point where pure oxygen was just about what the crew of the Great Fox were breathing each day. Each and every day, for six months worth of days now. Six long months since they had last came to port. Cabin fever wasn't exactly what Fox would have called the impending madness he and his crew were facing, considering that four people wasn't exactly enough to make it cramped quarters on a ship so large as the Great Fox. In fact, Fox doubted the entire of Grayfox's decks could even be walked over in a given day. No, privacy and new places weren't the issue on the starship Great Fox. Fox himself believed it was more a question of boredom.
The eerie would-be silence, sullened only by the low whirr of the large twin sub-light engines propelling the behemoth of steel, plastic, and various paints and wires through the void known as "unclaimed space" on the crews long trek to the small planet of Yujri was enough to drive Fox insane all on its own, but coupled with the blazing noises of Slippy's salvaged pre-interplanetary aged jukebox repeating the same seven out-of-date (not to mention style) rock and roll albums were absolutely unbearable.
The space before Fox out the three foot thick reinforced dura-plastic veiwport on the command deck of the great ship, acting as an endless and repetitive panorama of little blinking balls of selestial light coming from zillions of miles away wasn't helping much either.
It was just as Fox was beginning to drift into an ever desired near-coma rest, his only possible escape from the clash of low droning sub-light hum, and ear splitting electric guitar noises, that one of the other members of the small crew decided it would be a good idea to occupy the same room as he on that large hotel-sized mass of ship known as Great Fox.
"Foooox!" Falco Lombardi, Fox's only wingman in time of conflict as of late, after Peppy retiring to the navigation chair from old age, and Slippy having his hand-eye coordination thrown horribly off by a severe head trauma during a mission months back, was a rough-and-tumble sort of guy. His personality was almost as feirce as the red circles the feathers around his eye formed, and almost as cool as the smooth cobalt the rest of his birdlike-body desplayed. From the center of his arrow-headed face, a short, but prominent yellow beak protruded, making Falco look all around mean sometimes.
"What, what? What is it? I'm up!" Fox said, jumping to attention. His orange furred ears perked up, and his handsome face followed. Fox was a real easy-going sort, the kind of guy you could approach and have a convorsation with even if you didn't know him. His little black nose was a perfect hood ornament to his canine snout of white fur, which abruptly cut to orange the further up his face you traveled. Long, brittle, and nearly too fine to see, a set of six whiskers protruded from either side of Fox's muzzle, and his eyes reflected a jaded green light, like an evergreen tree.
"Fox!" Falco shouted again, his voice laden with the slightest glowing sparks of indignance. "Fox, the scopes say we're nearing the planet. I thought you might like to know, that we'll be there within 48 hours, and you're supposed to pack you bags."
"Thanks a bundle, mom." Fox droned, lazily dragging his half-sleeping body up into a more dignified position in the large, leather captains chair he had been napping in. Yawning loudly, he gave his neck a moment to find a comfortable way for his head to set on it, before swiveling around in the chair to face his comrade. "Did you pack me a bagged lunch wel you were at it?"
Falco crinckled his forhead and gave Fox a stern glare. Placing one hand on his hip, and the other out to his side in a gesture like 'as if you didn't notice' and spoke over his shoulder with every drop of indignance and sarcasm he could squeeze from himself. "Well, excuse me, fearless leader! I didn't realize it was still nap time. If you want to hang around on this hunk-of-junk for another halfa year, be my guest, but this next stop is mine. We wouldn't even BE here if you hadn't gotten us all so hyped up over a little job."
"Hey now, killjoy, I'm only joking. Besides, this is no 'little job' as you so put it! We're talking a good 1,000,000 credits! That's a lot of money. Maybe even enough to hvae your beak removed." Fox smiled at his little quip, watching Falco cross his arms huffily, and leapt up from his chair. "Rob!" Rob was the ships in house maintenance and communications robot, built by Slippy, who somehow always managed to find time to work on little inventions like the robot all the time, despite his never ending duties as on-ship mechanic. Falco often, when in his surly-er states of mind, mused that if Slippy hadn't have made Rob for the purpose of getting things fixed faster, only about half the things aroudn the ship that needed repair would even be broken. It was true that Slippy did spend a lot of time on his own things, but he was still atrustworthy mechanic, and a good friend. Plus, trying to pry that toad away from his inventions would be like ripping a brand new toy from the arms of a small child.
"Yes sir?" 'Whirr' and 'Fzzzzt' were the acurate sound effects to apply to the robot Rob's stalky metal body. The machines shiny, metal head was about the size and shape of a toaster with a steel ring around it. Near the center of the bot's front faceplate was a red-orange visor which it saw through in the variations of blue and red that was heat vision. It's body, like a slightly more elegant cyllindar, gave way to a tiny waist, no larger than your average, run of the mill canned soup tin. Below this, a shiny pelvic plate and stalky metal legs supported the mis-shapen robot on the cold steel floor of the starship. From the sides of it's body, boxy, steel arms and joints formed somewhat of a pair of grappling appendeges who's claws were more comparable to an industrial crane's clamp than a hand.
"Call Slippy and Peppy on deck, would you?" The way Fox spoke, you wouldn't think of Rob as a Robot at all, but as another member of the crew. Even though Fox knew that the robot would have done with a simple command, he felt it was good practice to be polite when making a command. It was always the dictatorial captains who seemed to be the first to be mutinized. Not that Fox was much worried that a kind old rabbit like Peppy Hare, a mild mannered inventor with a depth perception problem like Slippy Toad, and a hot headed, short tempered hot-shot like Falco Lombardi would ever ACTUALLY make mutiny against him.
"Yes sir." Rob whirred and clicked, and stomped his staggering metal way to the com system controls with little clanking stpes that echoed through the the room. With a whinning metallic sound, Rob's claw-like hand pressed the red button labeled 'send to all decks', and spoke into the com system's microphone. "All personnel, report to the Command Deck. I repeat, please report to the Command Deck, that is all."
Minutes later, a clamor of metal and other junk could be heard, and the obnoxious sounds of the muffled electric guitar that were once ringing in Fox's ears ceased. Feet could be heard, padding irregularly down the hallways that led up into the Great Fox's isolated command deck, like some many-legged critter with a limp, scuttling towards the little control room. The steel doors that led from the blue tinted, chrome colored command deck slid aside with a 'fwoooosh' noise, and gave way to the two forms on the other side of it's not-quite triangular portal. In the doorway stood two short figures both clad in the trademark off-gray jackets and collared shirts worn by the crew of the mercenary unit Starfox. Despite the similar apparel (which the whole crew, including Fox, were known to wear) the two forms in the doorway looked absolutely nothing alike. The first of the two, on the left of the doorway, was an old, proud-looking rabbit, long gray ears coming about a foot over his furry head, and a white plume of beard on the end of his chin. His nose was adorned with a pair of small spectacles, and body looked rather tough, despite his age.
In contrast, the other of the two figures in the doorway was a young toad, his green face about the shape of a stopsign, with a pair of large, circular eyes poking up from its top. Between these eyes sat a red cap with the word "SLIPPY" embroidered in big, yellow letters. Overall a stout and happy looking little fellow.
"What's up, fox?" The toad squeaked in a highpitched voice that would have shattered the three foot dura-plastic viewport of the command deck had it been any more treble.
"Yeah, what's the deal, captain?" Another contrast, the voice of the rabbit standing next to Slippy Toad was very serene and almost raspy, like talking through static, only backwards.
"Well," Fox said, stepping up to his crew. A large, and inviting smile crossed the mercenaries plush face, and he gave a little chuckle. "Falco has informed me that we will be arriving on the planet Yujri in just under forty-eight hours."
"Woah!" Slippy squealed, his already bulbous eyes seeming to widen. "You mean we finally get to dock? As in no more outer-space for a while?"
"Haw! I finally get some peace and quiet from that awful music Slippy's always blaring!" Peppy exclaimed, a look of excitement claiming his weathered eyes.
"Hey! It's not so bad..." Slippy whined, folding his arms across his chest. Fox cold only laugh. They were finally going to be off of the ship! It was like a dream come true.
"Yeah, well I just can't wait to get the job done so we have some money. Won't exactly be an exciting stay when we blew the majority of our saving getting there." Falco crossed the room and took a seat in the asistant command chair, gazing scronfully at the space outside the dura-plastic window.
"Oh, come off it, Falco." Fox's words were absolutely guilded with importune tone, as he lazily strolled over to the command console. Fox punched in a few keys and a holographic image of the planet Yujri appeared before them all. It was a small, blue-green planet, dotted with gray masses that were likely its major cities. The whole planet wasn't much larger than a good sized moon, and it orbited a sun that was just as dwarfish in comparison. It's axis provided for a good 19 hour day, and about a 200 day year, a particularly odd calindar. "Once we arrive on Yujri, half our job is done. How hard could it possibly be fore us, the elite Starfox Team, to round up a couple of bank robbers?"
"Oh, I suppose about as hard as it was to 'round up' a couple of murderous bounty hunters on Zoness eight months ago, when you game me the same reassuring speech. And I don't need to remind you how THAT ended, with the bounty hunters escaping and --" Falco was cut off abruptly, as Fox raised his hand.
"-- and crashing into a stallite wile trying to make a sub-light jump, killing both of them, and causing us to get nothing out of the job. If you 'don't need to remind me', then don't remind me, please. Besides, this is defferent. These guys wouldn't dare try to get off planet with the load of jewels their carrying. They would NEVER get past the inter stellar scan, which is precisly why they had time to call in us, the best of the best." Declared Fox, a tone of arrogance in his voice. Falco laughed.
"It amazes me that no matter how well we did on the last mission, we're still 'the best of the best'." Falco said, warming up a bit. He had lost his surley tone for a more playful one.
"Hey, what can I say? We're professionals!" Fox said, grinning widely. Falco chuckled, and fox chuckled, and pretty soon the whole crew was laughing.