Disclaimer: *Sigh* Why do those dumb lawyers make us poor writers make these stupid things? Bah! Anyway, I don't own Miles 'Tails' Prowler 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.



Maybe it was a bad idea to walk in the forest alone.

I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe a little tropical bird, an unevolved species, distracted me. Maybe I just wanted some time alone. But anyway, right then, there were two of those mean looking dogs on either side of me, and I didn't have my staff.

"What do you want?" I demanded, although my voice was trembling with fear. They only smirked. They both were brandishing pistols and had that look in their eyes that they were about to do something fun.

"Your cooperation, Captain," the first dog, the one with the deep brown fur rumbled, "In return, you walk away with your life." I flinched as he brought the gun up to my neck. My attitude had worn dull after three years of boring secretary work.

"Captain," I thought for a second. I hadn't been called that in a while, "I'm thinking you are loyal to Andross?" It was more of a statement than an answer.

The dog's grin grew wider as he pressed the gun harder. I felt my throat gurgle, but I didn't dare emit any sound. I was still able to breathe, but it hurt for the nozzle of the gun to be there.

"Well, Captain?" The second dog (with pitch-black fur) asked, "Your answer!"

"No," I managed to wheeze. The two dogs frowned, and I knew that wasn't good.

The first one shoved me back into a palm tree and pressed the gun even harder on my throat. The second on got out something that looked like a cross between a lab needle and a shotgun. He stuck the point of the weapon in my arm and I yelped in pain. The needle was as thick as my forefinger.

"If you don't want to help us, you'll help us anyway," the second dog sneered as he pulled the trigger, sending some kind of device into my bloodstream. I winced as I felt it enter my arm. The brown dog pulled his gun away and pushed me off. Just as I was about to run away, the black dog pushed a button on a remote and my body convulsed with pain.

I screamed and I flailed. The black dog laughed hysterically at me as I twitched on the ground. He let go of the button, and the pain was gone. I gasped for air as I tried to get up.

"Going to help us properly now?" He asked politely. I would've spat at his face, but my mouth was numb. I flinched again as he pulled a dagger from his belt and held it up to my face. Instead of jabbing me in the eye, he pulled on my hair and cut a small lock of my fringe from my head. Confused, I watched as he tied it with a string and put it in his pocket. He raised the dagger again (I flinched) but shoved it in my pocket.

"Listen up," the brown dog snarled, "You are going to assassinate the two-tailed fox or else we're gonna make you scream until the end of your time. Got it?"

That went through my head a lot faster than it was supposed to. Kill Marcus? No way, not in a million years. He didn't do anything yet, and that's why I wanted him alive. I needed information on Miles. I slowly shook my head. The dogs' lips curled in a menacing way.

In the end, after nearly two hours of interrogation and pain, I agreed to do it. Don't take me wrong; I really didn't want to do it, but somewhere in the bottom of my heart, I wanted to feel death in my clutches again. I don't want to admit it, but a part of me wanted to see warm blood on my staff and paws. I felt sick after they left. And I felt so confused.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

**Third person Tails, two days later, fourth day of the journey**

Tails cleared his throat and coughed again. A lone, small fish bone plopped down onto his plate. Angrily, he took the bone and threw it at the waiter.

"Hey! I said fillet! Fillet doesn't have BONES!" He yelled, startling half the room into silence. The waiter whimpered in fright and snatched the plate away from Tails, scuttling away as quickly as possible. Amy was shocked, but Falco looked like he was about to crack a rib from trying not to laugh.

"Damn, did ya see his face?" Falco burst out in hysterics. Amy shook her head disapprovingly.

"What's the matter, Tails?" She asked quietly as Falco clamped his beak together, but was still snorting madly. Tails sighed and took a drink of his mango juice. He didn't want to admit it, but the whole ship was composed of couples going on honeymoons or such, and the captain ordered a ball tonight. It would be very weird to dance with Amy, so he'd probably be the only one (with Falco, of course) who won't dance. He told this to Amy.

"I mean, that would attract certain suspicions, right? It's best if I don't dance, because I'm the least likely to raise eyebrows, so just go with Falco," Tails blushed. Falco looked like his birthday had come early.

"Aw, poor Tails," Amy giggled slightly, "We don't have to go."

"But the captain wanted everyone to come," Tails pretended to eat the fillet that the scared waiter brought back to hide his furious blushing. Amy agreed to go with Falco, although her scowl hinted that she might rip his eyes out if he tried anything funny.

Tails scrunched his sneakers into the red carpet floor, looking around the dining room for Krystal. She hadn't been showing up for the past two days, and he thought that she might be in trouble. Tails shook off that notion. She was an ex-captain of the Venomian army. What could possibly happen to a girl with that status?

**

The orchestra struck up a quick and lively tune. All the couples went into a waltz fashion and quickened their paces. Tails, at the bar, was close enough to the band that he could see the beads of sweat forming on the mole violinist's brow.

Legally, Tails was sixteen, but three years had done a lot to him. He was almost a head taller now and he looked like he was in his mid-twenties. General Pepper gave him a civilian identification of twenty-one years old, so it was only natural for a young dog to sit at the bar and talk to the bartender.

The bartender, a short, old looking rabbit, though, wasn't talking to Tails at all. He was going from end to end, looking at the racks of wine, as if he was searching for something. Tails thought that he looked oddly familiar. Trying to strike up a conversation, he ordered a mild drink.

"Eh? Doncha want something stronger? Whisky, perhaps?" The hare asked in a southern accent. Yep, Tails definitely thought this guy was familiar.

"Nah, that stuff burns your throat. Actually, pop me a small glass of frozen vodka," Tails shrugged, thinking that vodka was what adults drink, "Oh, and spice it up with vermouth."

"Heh, I haven't made vodka drinks for a while," the rabbit professionally flipped a large bottle onto its end and poured a small cup, "You remind me of someone, but he's too young to be drinking now."

"Really? What was his name?" Tails asked, picking up the glass and emptying it in his mouth. The vodka was very strong, and he had to gulp it down as the scent reached his nostrils and clouded them. He coughed and spluttered a bit.

"Yow, that stuff might be a little too strong," the hare snickered as he handed Tails a little towel, "Well, anyway, the little kid's name is Miles." Tails nearly slipped off the stool in surprise, but he caught onto the counter on time.

"Geez!" Tails yelled.

"Careful, there!" The rabbit grabbed one of Tails' paws and pulled him upright, "Maybe it was too strong. Here, how many fingers?" He held up his forefinger and his middle finger.

"Fourteen," Tails rolled his eyes sarcastically, "I'm fine. But you say, Miles Prower?"

"Yes, yes!" The hare exclaimed, "Do you know him?"

"No, but the name rings a bell," Tails said quickly. Behind him, someone sat down with a swish of a pale green dress. The hare turned to her as she beckoned him. Tails nearly fell off the stool again as he recognized her.

"You wouldn't be Lieutenant Peppy Hare, by any chance?" Krystal asked, giving Tails a friendly wink. He gaped at her. She was wearing something green and strapless, and she looked gorgeous. She combed her hair perfectly, but Tails noticed a very small gap near her forehead. Tails saw that the bottoms of her eyes had little circles, but hardly noticeable. Maybe she wasn't getting enough sleep. Maybe she was startled by the news of two dead Venomian soldiers found in the water. The two that he killed.

"Actually, I am Peppy Hare, but I abandoned the lieutenant part years ago," Peppy smiled, "I find talking to people and going on boat rides suits me a lot better than soaring the skies."

"Then you would know Miles Prower, because I'm the vixen that was with him three years ago."

Peppy dropped the little glass he took away from Tails with a muffled clatter on the carpet. It didn't break, so he just picked it up again and stared at Krystal.

"The Venomian captain!" Peppy whispered. Krystal gave a nod and turned to Tails.

"You, on the other paw, would know Miles very well," she frowned, "Because you're his brother." Tails froze for a second as he felt Peppy's eyes turn to him. He looked hard at the chestnut counter.

"Miles didn't have a brother."

**

A/N: Uh oh! Our Tails is in a spot of trouble! Not only is he ratted out, but also he has an undercover assassin on his two tails! *Cue ominous music* Okay... Now that was corny.