Starfox: After the Lylat Wars
By Canis lupus
Completed 02/24/02
NOTE: All Starfox characters ©Nintendo. This fic was originally posted on Smashboards.com (my account there is also Canis lupus), but I decided to post it here as well. This is my first fanfic, ever, so bear with all the amateurish mistakes and formulaic things that might surface as you read. It shouldn't be that bad… err… I hope? You be the judge. All feedback appreciated.
Chapter 1:
Fox sat back in the pilot's seat, fists clenched in front of his face as he leaned back. He sighed. A vast expanse of dark emptiness rolled across his field of vision, as far as he could see. Pitch black, empty, dead. He was aboard the Great Fox, strangely enough, alone, for the first time. Silence filled the cold, impersonal rooms of metal structures that made up most of the ship, and there he was, sitting in solitude, engulfed by his own thoughts.
The small screen on the panel in front of him went static for a while, then a face appeared – the grizzled face of an old bulldog.
"Lieutenant McCloud, I demand a reason for all of this. Report your situation immediately"
"Ah, General Pepper," Fox replied, his voice hollow and deprived of his usual ambitious tone.
"Turn back at once. Don't you see what you are doing? Flying alone in unprotected space – without anyone to help you. Why are you doing this?"
Fox grunted. His brows furrowed in annoyance, and he leaned forward.
"Forget it. You don't understand," he spat at the general, who lifted an eyebrow in surprise, then he slammed the Comm-link. The screen went static and blacked out after a while. Silence returned.
"'Bout time you shut up, old bastard," Fox grumbled to himself in a notably bad mood. He didn't know why.
"Rob."
"Yes, sir," the robot replied in a sickly monotonous voice.
"Report the conditions of the Great Fox."
A list appeared on the panel screen. The fuel was sufficient, and the ship sustained no damage. He was somewhere past Titania, and in premium condition for his aimless journey to… he didn't know, and didn't care.
"Rob, I'm stepping out for a while. Take all messages, and head towards Venom."
"Roger that," the panel showed the robot for a brief while, then shut down
God… it's time for Slippy to update that freak of a robot, Fox noted with grim humor. Yet, a part of him knew that he wouldn't see his team for a long time to come.
Fox was alone. Why he didn't bring his team with him, he didn't know. He wanted silence. He need time to think without interruption – without the wise ass comments of Falco, and helium-filled chatter of Slippy. Andross was dead. His goal was complete, and his father was avenged, but the sense of purpose was replaced with a sense of meaninglessness. What would he do now? He was lost. Depression took hold of him.
Fox stared forward, his face reflecting on the window - a ghastly apparition of his former self. He has not slept for a long time, and it showed. His face was unwashed, and his brownish-red fur bristled and filthy. The burning spirit within his gleaming blue eyes was worn away. He was tired, and soon dozed off in his seat with his fists as his pillow. His mind drifted back to the days immediately after the war.
After Andross' defeat, the Starfox team returned to Corneria. Yes, he remembered the day when he landed. The sun burned in the afternoon sky. Golden shafts of sunlight pierced through the clouds and landed softly upon the fields, dotting the grass with patches of brightness. It was the perfect day. He has not returned to his homeland since the beginning of this whole god-forsaken war. Tranquility resumed to the beautiful Cornerian fields, but the city was mostly left in smoldering rubble, aside from a few towers and important military buildings that the forces had managed to protect.
The team walked out of the Great Fox with heads held high. Fox was in the lead. The thousands of Cornerian residents gathered in front of the spacecraft. The team basked in stentorian fanfare as the people cheered. Several high ranked captains of the great Cornerian Fleet – including Bill Grey, Fox's long time friend – gave them the best salutations they knew and led the team to General Pepper. They walked down the red carpet, rows of officers lining the sides. Cameras flashed, reporters swarmed outside. At the top of the stage, General Pepper presented to them four medals, lying softly in a navy-blue case. The general's old eyes glittered knowingly – a silent acknowledgement of his feats on Venom, and Fox allowed a flash of a smile to creep upon his usually stern façade. He held the medal, feeling the sharp, cold badge in his hands, and raised it for the world to see. The cheers exploded in the glorious moment as thousands of cameras flashed with blinding clicks. They were proud. They were proud to show the world the dirt and filth and injuries that adorned them, the marks that bore testimony to their victory on Venom - the marks that reflected the fierce battles that they have survived and won.
If only father was here… Fox thought to himself faintly. He frowned, trying not to recall his tortured past. He had been thinking after Andross' death - was his father truly avenged? Forget it, he told himself for the hundredth time. Father is dead, and Andross got his fair share of plasma cannons. He was over it now. It is all over – in the past. There is nothing to worry about, he told himself, and he was determined not to let this ruin his day. It was his day - It was team Starfox's moment in history.
"What's wrong, Fox?" Falco whispered softly as the cheers rolled on. His mind jolted back to reality. In front of him, the general offered his hand. He reached out and gave him a firm handshake. More photographers swarmed in to take pictures as they posed for the historic occasion and strode off the stage with dignity.
Falco glanced at him in concern while the team walked off. Ah, Falco. Always cool, calm, and smart mouthed - but beneath his hardy appearance and arrogant demeanor, he cared much for other team members and was shrewdly perceptive. Slippy, on the other hand, was annoying and overexcited at times, but he was undoubtedly an asset to the Cornerian forces with his technical genius… and Peppy - wise, old Peppy, always a caring father to Fox. He was glad to share the moment with them and shook off any further thought. Just enjoy, he told himself. Yes, just enjoy…
As the crowds of cheering spectators dissipated, the team called it a day and went their own ways to tend to their personal businesses. Falco went off with Katt Monroe, Peppy went to visit his old wartime friends, and Slippy – well, he didn't know. Fox looked amongst the crowd for the familiar sight of Fara Phoenix, a female Fennec Fox whom he met (and rescued) during an accident in the academies. An hour passed, no signs of Fara. He worried. There were many torn families that were left in the wakes of the Lylat Wars, and Fox lost contact with her during all the chaos. He hasn't seen her since, but perhaps she'll turn up some day. Perhaps…
Fox called her apartment, but slapped himself on the forehead as he remembered that most of the city was destroyed during the Imperial occupation, and the phone line is not working anyways. He returned home without the welcoming words of his friends and families.
The following day, Team Starfox was summoned to a board meeting. Fox was exhausted, but gave all the generals and high officials his best salutations. He took his seat, and his mind wandered. Again, he was brought back to the scene right after Andross' death in Venom. Amidst the flames spewing from the hulls of the gigantic satellite-planet, Fox flew alongside a mysterious Arwing. There was something he found all so awkward, yet familiar about the Arwing – it bore the outdated insignia of the past Starfox team. He turned his head aside to look, only to see another vulpine pilot wearing dark sunglasses. The moment froze. His jaw dropped.
"…Father?" Fox managed to whisper through the headphones on his helmet, disbelief written all over his face.
"No time for hesitation, son. Follow me," the familiar voice rang with a tinge of freshness - the voice that Fox had missed for so long.
Then everything seemed to go in slow motion. Fox gaped dumbly, watching his father's Arwing zoom past, the image burning in his mind. Blinding light flashed from every corner as explosions erupted. Sparks sprayed from the collapsing ceiling. Fox followed, unable to shake off the feeling of shock.
"Fox? FOX!?" Peppy cried in a muffled voice, nudging Fox sharply in the ribs.
Once again, Fox jolted back to reality. His mind has been wandering an awful lot. General Pepper cleared his voice, then spoke sternly, eyeing him with a suspicious glance.
"Lieutenant McCloud,"
"Yes,"
"We have conferred and decided to promote you to the honorable position of General of the Fleet of Sector-Y"
Peppy, Falco, and Slippy gasped in unanimous surprise. Fox, however, was unfazed.
"We will give you time to decide. I expect your answer in a week, as I hope to have your choice unfettered by public pressure," the general announced formally.
"There is no need," Fox replied calmly. "I shall very much like to decline."
His response elicited gasps of amazement among the other officials.
"Now, if you will excuse me."
Fox stood from his seat and left the conference room. Fox McCloud – young, aloof, rash, and wayward. The thought of being a general alongside old Pepper amused him. Sector-Y is no unimportant station; it had the second largest Cornerian fleet on the Lylat System. No, that was beside the point. The thought of being a general did not appeal to Fox's rogue-esque personality. He would take freedom over power any day. Peppy rushed to his side.
"Fox, what the heck are you thinking? A general, Fox, a general! That's an offer of a lifetime! Let alone it's not just any 'ole general, but the General of Sector-Y!" Peppy managed to stutter out of his amazement, bemused by Fox's decision.
"I know, I know. But you think I'm suitable for being a general? For Christ's sake I'm only Eighteen - and I'm leading a mercenary team, Not a formal fleet! That was the whole point. That was why I never agreed to join the Cornerian fleet."
Peppy stopped in his path, dumbfounded by Fox's choice. Fox was right. His personality did not suit the position, and he'd be the youngest general in the Cornerian Federation's military history. He wandered how well it would work. But these offers are not to be declined so easily. His mind refused to accept it, but he could do nothing. Fox was left alone to walk out of the military office.
By Canis lupus
Completed 02/24/02
NOTE: All Starfox characters ©Nintendo. This fic was originally posted on Smashboards.com (my account there is also Canis lupus), but I decided to post it here as well. This is my first fanfic, ever, so bear with all the amateurish mistakes and formulaic things that might surface as you read. It shouldn't be that bad… err… I hope? You be the judge. All feedback appreciated.
Chapter 1:
Fox sat back in the pilot's seat, fists clenched in front of his face as he leaned back. He sighed. A vast expanse of dark emptiness rolled across his field of vision, as far as he could see. Pitch black, empty, dead. He was aboard the Great Fox, strangely enough, alone, for the first time. Silence filled the cold, impersonal rooms of metal structures that made up most of the ship, and there he was, sitting in solitude, engulfed by his own thoughts.
The small screen on the panel in front of him went static for a while, then a face appeared – the grizzled face of an old bulldog.
"Lieutenant McCloud, I demand a reason for all of this. Report your situation immediately"
"Ah, General Pepper," Fox replied, his voice hollow and deprived of his usual ambitious tone.
"Turn back at once. Don't you see what you are doing? Flying alone in unprotected space – without anyone to help you. Why are you doing this?"
Fox grunted. His brows furrowed in annoyance, and he leaned forward.
"Forget it. You don't understand," he spat at the general, who lifted an eyebrow in surprise, then he slammed the Comm-link. The screen went static and blacked out after a while. Silence returned.
"'Bout time you shut up, old bastard," Fox grumbled to himself in a notably bad mood. He didn't know why.
"Rob."
"Yes, sir," the robot replied in a sickly monotonous voice.
"Report the conditions of the Great Fox."
A list appeared on the panel screen. The fuel was sufficient, and the ship sustained no damage. He was somewhere past Titania, and in premium condition for his aimless journey to… he didn't know, and didn't care.
"Rob, I'm stepping out for a while. Take all messages, and head towards Venom."
"Roger that," the panel showed the robot for a brief while, then shut down
God… it's time for Slippy to update that freak of a robot, Fox noted with grim humor. Yet, a part of him knew that he wouldn't see his team for a long time to come.
Fox was alone. Why he didn't bring his team with him, he didn't know. He wanted silence. He need time to think without interruption – without the wise ass comments of Falco, and helium-filled chatter of Slippy. Andross was dead. His goal was complete, and his father was avenged, but the sense of purpose was replaced with a sense of meaninglessness. What would he do now? He was lost. Depression took hold of him.
Fox stared forward, his face reflecting on the window - a ghastly apparition of his former self. He has not slept for a long time, and it showed. His face was unwashed, and his brownish-red fur bristled and filthy. The burning spirit within his gleaming blue eyes was worn away. He was tired, and soon dozed off in his seat with his fists as his pillow. His mind drifted back to the days immediately after the war.
After Andross' defeat, the Starfox team returned to Corneria. Yes, he remembered the day when he landed. The sun burned in the afternoon sky. Golden shafts of sunlight pierced through the clouds and landed softly upon the fields, dotting the grass with patches of brightness. It was the perfect day. He has not returned to his homeland since the beginning of this whole god-forsaken war. Tranquility resumed to the beautiful Cornerian fields, but the city was mostly left in smoldering rubble, aside from a few towers and important military buildings that the forces had managed to protect.
The team walked out of the Great Fox with heads held high. Fox was in the lead. The thousands of Cornerian residents gathered in front of the spacecraft. The team basked in stentorian fanfare as the people cheered. Several high ranked captains of the great Cornerian Fleet – including Bill Grey, Fox's long time friend – gave them the best salutations they knew and led the team to General Pepper. They walked down the red carpet, rows of officers lining the sides. Cameras flashed, reporters swarmed outside. At the top of the stage, General Pepper presented to them four medals, lying softly in a navy-blue case. The general's old eyes glittered knowingly – a silent acknowledgement of his feats on Venom, and Fox allowed a flash of a smile to creep upon his usually stern façade. He held the medal, feeling the sharp, cold badge in his hands, and raised it for the world to see. The cheers exploded in the glorious moment as thousands of cameras flashed with blinding clicks. They were proud. They were proud to show the world the dirt and filth and injuries that adorned them, the marks that bore testimony to their victory on Venom - the marks that reflected the fierce battles that they have survived and won.
If only father was here… Fox thought to himself faintly. He frowned, trying not to recall his tortured past. He had been thinking after Andross' death - was his father truly avenged? Forget it, he told himself for the hundredth time. Father is dead, and Andross got his fair share of plasma cannons. He was over it now. It is all over – in the past. There is nothing to worry about, he told himself, and he was determined not to let this ruin his day. It was his day - It was team Starfox's moment in history.
"What's wrong, Fox?" Falco whispered softly as the cheers rolled on. His mind jolted back to reality. In front of him, the general offered his hand. He reached out and gave him a firm handshake. More photographers swarmed in to take pictures as they posed for the historic occasion and strode off the stage with dignity.
Falco glanced at him in concern while the team walked off. Ah, Falco. Always cool, calm, and smart mouthed - but beneath his hardy appearance and arrogant demeanor, he cared much for other team members and was shrewdly perceptive. Slippy, on the other hand, was annoying and overexcited at times, but he was undoubtedly an asset to the Cornerian forces with his technical genius… and Peppy - wise, old Peppy, always a caring father to Fox. He was glad to share the moment with them and shook off any further thought. Just enjoy, he told himself. Yes, just enjoy…
As the crowds of cheering spectators dissipated, the team called it a day and went their own ways to tend to their personal businesses. Falco went off with Katt Monroe, Peppy went to visit his old wartime friends, and Slippy – well, he didn't know. Fox looked amongst the crowd for the familiar sight of Fara Phoenix, a female Fennec Fox whom he met (and rescued) during an accident in the academies. An hour passed, no signs of Fara. He worried. There were many torn families that were left in the wakes of the Lylat Wars, and Fox lost contact with her during all the chaos. He hasn't seen her since, but perhaps she'll turn up some day. Perhaps…
Fox called her apartment, but slapped himself on the forehead as he remembered that most of the city was destroyed during the Imperial occupation, and the phone line is not working anyways. He returned home without the welcoming words of his friends and families.
The following day, Team Starfox was summoned to a board meeting. Fox was exhausted, but gave all the generals and high officials his best salutations. He took his seat, and his mind wandered. Again, he was brought back to the scene right after Andross' death in Venom. Amidst the flames spewing from the hulls of the gigantic satellite-planet, Fox flew alongside a mysterious Arwing. There was something he found all so awkward, yet familiar about the Arwing – it bore the outdated insignia of the past Starfox team. He turned his head aside to look, only to see another vulpine pilot wearing dark sunglasses. The moment froze. His jaw dropped.
"…Father?" Fox managed to whisper through the headphones on his helmet, disbelief written all over his face.
"No time for hesitation, son. Follow me," the familiar voice rang with a tinge of freshness - the voice that Fox had missed for so long.
Then everything seemed to go in slow motion. Fox gaped dumbly, watching his father's Arwing zoom past, the image burning in his mind. Blinding light flashed from every corner as explosions erupted. Sparks sprayed from the collapsing ceiling. Fox followed, unable to shake off the feeling of shock.
"Fox? FOX!?" Peppy cried in a muffled voice, nudging Fox sharply in the ribs.
Once again, Fox jolted back to reality. His mind has been wandering an awful lot. General Pepper cleared his voice, then spoke sternly, eyeing him with a suspicious glance.
"Lieutenant McCloud,"
"Yes,"
"We have conferred and decided to promote you to the honorable position of General of the Fleet of Sector-Y"
Peppy, Falco, and Slippy gasped in unanimous surprise. Fox, however, was unfazed.
"We will give you time to decide. I expect your answer in a week, as I hope to have your choice unfettered by public pressure," the general announced formally.
"There is no need," Fox replied calmly. "I shall very much like to decline."
His response elicited gasps of amazement among the other officials.
"Now, if you will excuse me."
Fox stood from his seat and left the conference room. Fox McCloud – young, aloof, rash, and wayward. The thought of being a general alongside old Pepper amused him. Sector-Y is no unimportant station; it had the second largest Cornerian fleet on the Lylat System. No, that was beside the point. The thought of being a general did not appeal to Fox's rogue-esque personality. He would take freedom over power any day. Peppy rushed to his side.
"Fox, what the heck are you thinking? A general, Fox, a general! That's an offer of a lifetime! Let alone it's not just any 'ole general, but the General of Sector-Y!" Peppy managed to stutter out of his amazement, bemused by Fox's decision.
"I know, I know. But you think I'm suitable for being a general? For Christ's sake I'm only Eighteen - and I'm leading a mercenary team, Not a formal fleet! That was the whole point. That was why I never agreed to join the Cornerian fleet."
Peppy stopped in his path, dumbfounded by Fox's choice. Fox was right. His personality did not suit the position, and he'd be the youngest general in the Cornerian Federation's military history. He wandered how well it would work. But these offers are not to be declined so easily. His mind refused to accept it, but he could do nothing. Fox was left alone to walk out of the military office.