Disclaimer: *Sigh* Why do those dumb lawyers make us poor writers make these stupid things? Bah! Anyway, I don't own Miles 'Tails' Prower or any of the StarFox team, although they are barely involved and Tails is almost my character (after I added a few touches to him).

Introduction: Well, my brain was kinda hyper after I played Sonic for about six hours straight at a friend's house AND watched 'We Were Soldiers' the other night, so I just decided to write something about our overshadowed Tails. Poor little guy; he doesn't get much attention. This is centered a bit more on StarFox than it is Sonic, so I'll just file it under StarFox. As always with my stories, this has no reference whatsoever to my other fictions. This is based on an alternate universe setting. Oh, don't worry, you don't have to know anything about Tails. Frankly, I don't know anything about him either. Ack, must I say more? He didn't meet anyone in the Sonic series, and he is a loner, a bit. This is set when Tails was thirteen and a war is brewing. Somehow, he is dragged in with all the commotion going on, and in the battlefield, he meets with an escapee, who is kinda hot...



"They're coming back."

That was the last sentence Tails was ever to hear from Captain Bill Grey. In that instant he said it, a missile from the Venomian fleet that was returning on the morning six days after the attack on the camp, shot directly at the plateau, blasting over five soldiers dead. Among them, William Grey's body was found. The squadron was leaderless.

Tails was also thrown to the ground, but not seriously hurt. The Venomian carriers dropped ground soldiers directly onto the plateau, and a very bloody, but short, battle ensued.

The remaining soldiers of the squadron ducked behind foxholes and large rocks. The Reserve Army was camped below the plateau, so they had a huge defensive disadvantage. Tails could hear lasers shooting holes in the ground as he ran further north. The screams of the soldiers beside him drove him on, sending a few quick shots behind him every ten seconds or so. Picking up speed and jumping off a small cliff of rock, Tails took off using his propellers, spinning like crazy into the North Mountains. They were far away; nearly six hours is he kept up his pace.

As Tails looked back down, he saw the entire squadron decimated. No prisoners or survivors were taken. The Venomians didn't notice him, as they were a bit more concentrated on the Reserve Army. Tails found a lone foxhole in the ground, far away from the Venomians, and landed there, trying to catch his breath and take measure of what happened at the same time. It all happened so quickly: Bill dead, Venomians attacked, and Reserve Army was probably wiped out now. Checking his pistol, Tails found that he had half of one magazine and a whole other.

Tails didn't know how long he was in the hole, but he approximated five hours until that unlucky Venomian stumbled into the hole he was in to eat his lunch. He had his back turned to Tails the whole time, and he didn't even notice Tails in the four meter long hole. Out of instinct, Tails leapt up onto the soldier and quickly snapped his neck. The Venomian's sandwich fell to the ground with a thud.

He had to get out. Being on a battlefield with laser shots and mortar explosions still going on between the Venomians and the Cornerians made him very edgy. The plateau was very flat, almost bare. There were lots of short, flowering bushes or big rocks around, but not enough to conceal Tails' position.

Glancing at the Venomian, Tails noted that the dead skunk was his age and size and was wearing a sergeant's uniform. Tails didn't specialize in espionage, but at least he could put on a good acting job. Tails still had his pack, so he shoved all his clothes in there before stripping the dead sergeant. It didn't take long to put the clothes on, but Tails kept on retching, knowing that the jacket he was now wearing once held a dead person. Finally, Tails took the skunk's cap and his engraved military tag. It read 'Sergeant Andrew Boyd'.

"Well, I guess my name is Andy now," Tails muttered to himself as he stuck one of his tails out the hole in the pants of Andrew, but he kept the other down his leg. His tails weren't that big; they were just bushy, "Sorry, Sergeant Boyd. Maybe you should've saved your lunch for a while later. At least you don't smell that bad for a skunk."

Tails quickly jumped out of the hole and ran back south. There were a few soldiers here and there, but they were all dead Cornerians. Tails nearly lost the contents of his stomach when he saw that Lieutenant Rhine had his head blown off by a missile, his neck still holding on to pieces of sinew while the head was a few meters away. Tails tried hard not to look at the gaping eyes as he ran on.

As he neared the place where the Venomians set up camp, Tails saw thousands of tents already pitched up with soldiers in front of them, either shooting down the cliff or firing mortars. Tails, as he met with the edge of the cliff, saw Cornerian soldiers camping at where the city once was; now just a big pile of rubble with pieces sticking out like walls.

"Cease fire!" A mean looking bulldog shouted. Immediately the Venomian soldiers stopped, but the smell of smoke lingered around the plateau, "Keep guards every twenty feet, the rest of you, get back into your barracks and eat." The soldiers did as they were told with somber expressions. They saluted to officers as they went by, to Tails as well, saying 'Sir' and putting fingers to their foreheads. Tails nodded to them as if strangers saluting to him were normal.

"Sergeant!" The bulldog general yelled. Tails nearly jumped out of his skin, but managed to stand up straight and salute, "At ease, uh, Boyd. Been out scouting, eh? Well, get back to the officers' tent. Captain Hilchey want to discuss something with all of you ranking soldiers."

"Yes, sir," Tails saluted with what he hoped was a steady voice and marched off to the biggest tent he could find, which would probably be the officers' tent. Pulling the flap back of the tent, which was conveniently just ten steps away, Tails walked in to see twenty or so officers crowded around a table.

"Ah, the last of our group, just in time," a short weasel said in a Scottish accent, "Now, on with business.

"As all of you know, the Cornerians are all safely tucked away in that darn stone city. The only way to get in is with deceit, and just lucky for us; we've got a Cornerian captain's jacket."

'Bill's jacket!' Tails yelled to himself in surprise, noticing the patched elbow. He felt his anger boil up but decided not to blow his own cover. 'Calm down, Miles. In twenty days, the death of Captain Grey will be avenged. In twenty days, the Katinian fleet will come.'

"I want a volunteer. I want someone who can take Private Jackal," Captain Hilchey pointed to a muscular dog with mean, cold gray eyes, "to the camp. Arrange an exchange of prisoners: They have our best officer in there. After that, Jackal will take care of the rest, wearing the captain's jacket, of course."

"I'll do it," Tails called. That guy looked big enough to smash through whatever that the Cornerian Reserve has. A trap that is, but a trap it cannot be achieved.

"Thank you, Sergeant Boyd," the weasel smiled a toothless grin, "I'll have Jackal ready in about thirty minutes."

**

Tails decided to lead Jackal down the slope and into the walls of the city until he executes him. It's for the best, after all, but Tails couldn't help to feel pity for Jackal, even though he was a snarling, moronic idiot who could not hold still for two seconds while Tails put handcuffs on him. The irony made it hard for Tails not to laugh: A spy leading an enemy spy to spy on the first spy's own camp!

Buildings were turned over and houses lay in flat heaps on the ground. The rocky ground made walking hard, but now Tails was in the cover of the half-standing apartments and commercial buildings. Jackal's time to die had come.

"I'm sorry about this," Tails whispered quickly as he pulled out his pistol and shot a single round into Jackal's undersized, brown head. He fell with a heavy thud and the contents of his head were splattered into the cement wall behind him. Tails dropped his gun and fell to his knees and threw up. After two minutes of panting and groaning, Tails stopped: There was someone nearby.

Thinking it was probably a Cornerian scout; Tails stumbled to run away. But as he rounded the corner away from Jackal, his eyes met the yellow and green colors of a Venomian uniform!

"What are you doing here?" The Venomian asked Tails in a slightly British voice, his head covered by a thick cap and his paws lapped by black gloves. His paws held a black pistol.

"You're talking to a sergeant, soldier. Explain yourself," Tails commanded.

"You're talking to a captain. Name, sergeant," he growled.

"Andrew Boyd."

"Oh really?" The Venomian captain suddenly shoved Tails onto his back and pressed the pistol to his forehead, his fingers digging into Tails' shoulders, "Too bad the Andrew I know had black and white fur, orange boy."

'Uh, oh.' Tails gulped. Remembering his own pistol tucked away in his pocket, unseen by the captain, Tails drew it slowly and pointed it to the Venomian's temple. He twitched a bit.

"Shoot me and I still have enough time to live to pull my trigger," Tails warned. The captain laughed.

"Well, we can be here all day, can't we? Why don't we just call a truce for now and drop our guns on the count of three?" The captain offered. Tails nodded his head slightly, "One, two, three." Both guns slipped off paws and clanked to the ground. The captain let go of Tails, but didn't pick up his gun.

"Name, please, sir," Tails sighed in relief, leaving his gun on the ground as well. The captain pulled off his cap and sat down on the dusty rubble.

"Not 'sir', you idiot. 'Ma'am'."

**

A/N: Hmm, I wonder who she is... But of course I don't wonder, 'cause I know. It's not someone who you'd expect (*coughnotsaracough*), and no, Katt had not come back as a very smart zombie, although that would make a good setting for another story...