Captain Falcon

By MissGlimmer


Disclaimer: I don't own anything Super Smash Brothers, or F-Zero related.


When the doors open, I'm already prepared for the flashbulbs that go off all around me. My mind's already kicking into gear, prepared to tackle on everybody around me. I'm a quick person, you see. And in order to be me, going on average speed or below correlates to being an utter failure.

"Mr. Falcon, can you give us your thoughts on Samurai Goroh's latest statements towards you?

Samurai Goroh

I inwardly chuckle, but for the public I give a careless smile because the truth is, he's quite a joke.

"Is it true that you and Jody Summer are dating?"

If only Jody read the tabloids. I was sure that this latest news would rile her up. To the public, Jody and I remained the warmest of friends. Reality could not be further from the truth. Summer constantly made it aware that she despised me, something that only made me feel a tiny bit of regret. Imagine all the good press surrounding us if we actually hadstarted dating. But Jody wasn't about to have any sort of pretend relationship with me.

"Screw off, Falcon. The only thing that interests me about you is your title, and someday it'll be mine!"

"Dear, the only way that could be possible was if you married me, and let's face it; we both know that I could do better."

And of course after that, she'd slapped me across the face. It was a predictable move of course. I'd already seen it happen three lines of dialogue before. Which is why at the time, I smirked, unfazed. I knew my attitude would piss her off. And it did.

So predictable

This is probably why she will never take my title - The prestigious Captain Falcon title given to those who win the F-Zero Grand Prix that's held every year.

My name isn't actually Captain Falcon. It used to be just Douglas Jay. Then I made Falcon my last name because let's face it, after holding the Falcon title for six consecutive years I am practically TheFalcon. As long as I'm in the racing business, nobody will claim the title for themselves.

I walk past the paparazzi, only giving short yet sweet answers. There are two body guards on either side of me, making sure that none of them touch me. I don't know their names but they are beefy, strong and apparently good at their job. I refer to them as One and Two. Being one of the greatest bounty hunters in the galaxy, I don't really need these meatheads, but they're good for my public image. I look somehow more desirable, more celebrity-worthy with them at my side. And of course, they make excellenthuman shields. If somebody were to shoot me, chances are, they'd hit these bigger targets first.

Of course, I don't ever say any of these thoughts aloud. They're simple truths but if anybody were to hear them, the press would hate me and I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet.

One and Two escort me to my beloved Blue Falcon. They confirm that they'll be there at a press conference I'll be holding in a week's time before they finally let me go. I turn to look at my vehicle. If there is anything in the galaxy that I have any sort of admiration and respect for it is her and yes she does have a gender. She is beautiful, sleek and magnificent. She and I share a bond on the road that would make any old, married couple jealous. She's made me, well, me.The saying, "Behind every successful man lies a woman," fits her in every way.

It's only within her that I feel completely relaxed, completely myself. I'm speeding along the grim streets of Mute City now, observing them quietly. There's a light jazzy number playing in the background, making me feel even more at ease. Blue Falcon cruises along making no more noise than a quiet, content hum. The acceleration is perfect, I don't feel like I'm driving but rather gliding. I shift my gears so that Blue Falcon speeds up though I am in no desire to get home quickly. It is the thrill of the speed that makes me do it. I dodge the lesser vehicles around me effortlessly. My house isn't in Mute City, after all.

It's not a well known fact, but I actually live on a set of islands off the coast of Port Town.

The reason?

I've made countless enemies being a bounty hunter. As a precaution, I don't make my address public. But that part of my life is boring so I don't dwell on it too much.

Only when I have to

By the time I reach the islands, its dusk. I put away Blue Falcon making sure that every centimeter, no millimeter, is flawless. Then I go to my actual home.

It's a contemporary thing, with high ceilings and enormous glass walls. The island I live on is completely uninhabited so I'm not too concerned about people looking through my windows here. Not many people know about this place after all. It's the ultimate place of secrecy. Which is why, I am for once caught off guard to see something unusual in my house as I walk up to the front door. Through one of the glass walls, I can quite clearly spot a human figure standing in my living room. From far away, I can't tell who it is or what they're doing in my home but it seems as if they are waiting for somebody.

Me.

I blink. I haven't done any sort of drug in a really long time. It impairs the sharpness of my mind that I rely on to race, I find. So how is this even possible? How could this person bypass my security system? It's is the best of its kind, designed by none other than the best and I paid a hefty sum for them.

Nothing about this scenario even makes sense to me. A person. In my house. That hardly anybody knows the location of, might I remind you.

Suspicious.

You may think I'm being paranoid but unless I invite people to my home, nobody is allowed on the island. I draw my gun and don my helmet. I don't really need a gun. It would be modest of me to say that I'm decent enough with hand-to-hand combat. But it's better if I carry it along anyway. Just in case.

I enter in through the back door. It's better to have the element of surprise. I sneak towards the living room, making sure to make no noise at all. The gun's tight in my hand. Then I enter the room slowly, pointing the gun exactly at the person whose back is facing towards me. It's a man, and he looks very familiar. I can't quite tell who it is yet, though.

"I suggest you drop the gun. I'm not going to kill you," the man says and his voice is familiar too. I know who he is.

"I don't recall inviting you here," I say stiffly, and the man turns around, confirming my suspicions.

Dr. Stewart smirks and takes a seat on one of the white sofas. Dr. Stewart is one of the only people who know where I live and the only person that my security system recognizes as safe. Everything makes more sense now.

He crosses his leg sideways over his thigh. In his right hand there is an envelope. "I thought Chameleon Mode on any vehicle in Mute City was illegal."

"I turned it on when I left Port Town," I say gruffly. "I don't like people following me home." I slide the gun back into its pocket and take a seat on the couch opposite of him.

"Loopholes don't last very long you know," he yawns. He runs a hand through his brown hair that's starting to turn gray.

"Tired?" I ask.

"Hardly, I just came out of a surgery that took six hours before I was ambushed."

Ambushed? I know that Dr. Stewart wants me to ask why, but I won't give him the satisfaction of asking him. It's a game we play, who will crack first. I happen to be better at it. So while I wait for him to break the news, I take off my helmet and shake my hair into place. I idly trace the scar that's by my right brow as I study him and wait.

Finally, the doctor sighs in a frustrated manner and asks, "Well? Aren't you going to ask why and by whom I was ambushed?"

I shrug coolly. "That's your business. If you'd like, you can tell me."

Dr. Steward sighs irritably. Then he tosses me the envelope that was in his hand. I catch it easily. "As I was leaving the hospital, something strange followed me and cornered me in a deserted alley. I can't say what it was. It was like an alien... Except maybe it was a robot, because it was wearing gold armour and it had horns coming out of its head. Where the face should have been, there was a white orb. These white orbs also replaced what was supposed to be its hands and the heels of its feet. It called itself an Alloy and it handed me this."

"You want me to read it?" I ask uninterestedly. But I'm secretly absorbed in his story.

"Well, it's addressed to you," Dr. Stewart said, which only piques my interest further. "The Alloy told me to give it to you by today; otherwise he would beat me up. I have a date tonight with Jody, so I wasn't in the mood to get into a fight."

"Jody?" I ask, mildly interested. "How did you manage that?" Then I curiously stare at the envelope. On the cover it says in fancy script:Douglas Jay Falcon.

"So, this is from that Alloy thing?"

"The Alloy said it was from his master... I'm not sure who that is though. I'm assuming the Alloy was simply a messenger."

"Sounds mysterious," A thought suddenly comes over me. "Why couldn't this Alloy just give it to me?"

"Well, it's a little hard to find your address, isn't it? It's not public information. The only way to give it to you would be to actually hand it to you in person, but I'm guessing the Alloy didn't want to attract attention... And you know, you're always surrounded by those body guards of yours or press."

But why not be in the spotlight? Curiosity overcomes me.

Dr. Stewart looks bored. "I'm getting a beer before I head out." He leaves the living room to raid my kitchen. I hardly register his words. I'm too busy opening the envelope. Inside are three separate sheets of paper (The last one is three times the length of a normal piece of paper) and a smaller piece of paper that holds an address. I read the first page.


Dear Jay Douglas Falcon,

Congratulations! You have been accepted to participate in the prestigious Super Smash Brothers Brawl Tournament. This tournament is only reserved for the best, most well-known champions in the galaxy. Being accepted to the tournament is no easy feat. What is the tournament about, you may ask, and why should you be interested?

Every participant of the tournament will battle each other in a series of matches, using their own strength, speed and guile to rise to the top and eventually become the Champion Smasher. Should you choose to accept this invitation, you will receive more information on the tournament, including what the prizes will be, and other advantages of being a Smasher. We hope you will take the time to look at the other pieces of information contained in this envelope. Should you choose to show up in a week's time, we have provided the address to the meet up spot of the tournament. Simply put the address in your preferred vehicle's GPS system and your vehicle should have no problem locating us. If you have no methods of transportation, simply tell the messenger who has sent you this invitation and they will be able to arrange something for you.

We hope you will be able to join us in this exciting event!

Master Hand

Crazy Hand


I stare at the letter, dumbfounded. I have never applied to any tournament other than the F-Zero Prix Tournament that's held every year at Mute City. Moreover, who are Master and Crazy Hand? Are those code names for something? Those can't be real names. I reread the letter several times before looking at the other pieces of paper. The next sheet is a list of items that I will need to pack. According to this sheet of paper I will need to stay at the Smash Headquarters for a minimum of three months. I don't mind staying at another place for too long. Not that it matters. I'm not very interested in this tournament.

Then I look at the next sheet of paper which includes all the confirmed "Smashers" names and pictures next to them. There are more than thirty, and I'm visibly surprised that some of these names seem somewhat familiar. Mario, Zelda and Ike all seem very familiar as does King Dedede but only by name. I can't remember why I know these names at all. I scan the list but I don't recognize anybody else as I go down.

Who are Lucas and Ness and how can a tournament allow such little boys to participate in an all out brawl? There are Smashers of every shape and size on this list. More than half are human and some of these humans are even children, yet there seem to be aliens and humanoid animals on here as well and even a green dinosaur (Who doesn't look all that intimidating) and is that a yellow mouse with red cheeks...?

I'm too busy staring at the contents of the letter. While it certainly is very intriguing, I simply don't think this tournament holds enough interest for me to participate. I have better things to do, like race and catch criminals in my spare time. I'm about to disregard the letter when one name at the end of the list catches my eye.

Samus Aran.

I stare at the name, my pulse racing erratically. I haven't heard of that name in awhile.

Next to the name there is a robot-like figure. Or maybe a person wearing a suit. I can't quite tell. I've only heard whispers of Samus Aran around the galaxy. He's a universally known bounty hunter, and that he actually is the best bounty hunter around. Despite these whispers, not many people have actually seen him. It makes my flesh crawl to see somebody whose better than me at something that I'm already very good at.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. I should take a picture. The expression on your face is priceless," Dr. Stewart comments, chortling. I realize that I didn't notice his return.

"Samus Aran," I whisper and that's all I need to say. Robert Stewart understands.

I should explain. There's a part of my life that I'm not particularly proud of and it deals with Samus.

When I first heard of Samus, I was only a full time bounty hunter. I wasn't in the racing business yet. Samus was the hotshot bounty hunter, the one that even the biggest criminals feared, and I wanted to surpass him to become the best one there was. I developed a one-sided rivalry with Samus and he didn't even know that I existed. Every bounty I pursued, Samus would be there first to get it.

My irritation at being second best turned into intrigue and a need to beat him. But I reasoned that the only way I would be able to beat him was to find him. In vain I tried to search for this man, but every time I tried, I failed. It eventually became my obsession until I could no longer eat, drink or sleep until I reached my goal.

It was Dr. Stewart who found me in this state. I had passed out from exhaustion and it was Dr. Stewart who found and treated me until I got better. He realized I was a competitive, Personality type-A sort of person so he got me into the racing business which distracted me from my obsession with Aran. Racing became my new, healthier obsession. I pushed Samus away from my thoughts, though he never really left.

Samus was the reason I began racing, yet he was always lingering in the back of my head, a representation of my failure and how I couldn't entirely let go of it.

"So you'll go to this tournament then?" Robert asks finally, after reading the other pieces of paper.

I look up, meeting Stewart in the eyes. He knows the answer. After reading his name on this sheet, how can I say no? This is my opportunity to crush Samus Aran and put my fears of failure at rest.

I look at the rest of the list, the names I don't really care about nor care to know about.

Fox McCloud. Link. The Ice Climbers, Popo and Nana. Princess Peach. ROB.

I'd prove them all who really is the best fighter; especially Samus Aran.


Well, I actually enjoyed doing this piece! I don't actually know much about Captain Falcon, so I had to do some research on him before I wrote this story. Yes, I know the way I wrote his character seems... Very out of character. But character development (Or a little at least) comes in the next part. Some Falcon fans might say that Jody Summer is actually Captain Falcon's sister, but I think that's only in the anime which isn't canon to the actual games.

Well, that's it! Hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned to part II!