Disclaimer: Star Fox, Star Wolf, General Pepper, Andross, and all other characters belong to Nintendo. Used without permission. No copyright infringement intended.
Jesika Starwatcher and minor characters belong to me. Relyt "Snifit" Firecoy belongs to his player. Connor "Wild Fang" Dagsley is copyright to ZenthWolf. Shin Hasaki belongs to Cyan Strife. Jessica "Samantha Sundancer" Marx belongs to Falcon McCooper. Saber Stryke belongs to his player. Michael Grey belongs to his player. Jaxeth Calvin Dante belongs to his player. Princess Wovstah, along with the rest of the Wovstah family, is protected under her copyright. Blade Wovstah is played by Blade on the board.
All characters used with permission. Do not use them without getting the owners' permission. If you do you will pay a very hefty price.
Author's Notes: This is based off a RP I had on the Outside the Greatfox Message Board almost a year ago. Be warned, it will get very dark and very, very violent at parts. It isn't a happy story. If you want a happy story, go somewhere else. Thank you.
This is dedicated to my friends there and-more importantly-to all those who have sacrificed so much for freedom.
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Worst Case Scenario: Prologue
"Don't complain about growing old because so many never get the chance."
--Unknown
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The aging hound looked out his window onto the bustling Corneria City. There seemed to be an air of . . . how should he put it? Anticipation? Anxiety?
Fear?
He had no idea how the word leaked out that Star Fox was to attack Venom that day, but it was common knowledge everywhere on Corneria. The traffic and loud music that usually echoed from the stores seemed quiet and timid. The atmosphere gave him a bit of a bad feeling, but he dismissed it. Fox and his team were the best pilots anywhere.
He clasped his paws behind his back. Soon, he thought. Soon it would be over. After years of war-years of terrible, violent war-Corneria would be at peace. He smiled brightly, closing his eyes and reveling at the idea.
"Sir?" a young panda crept into the office and saluted.
Pepper turned around, still smiling and saluted back. It took seconds after seeing the young officer's face for the dog's smile to melt.
"Well?" the general asked slowly.
"Sir . . . I don't know how to give news like this," the panda started softly.
He must be kidding. Pepper almost smiled. The young man must be leading him on; trying to make him think something horrible had happened before telling him about Corneria's victorious outcome. "Just say it," he replied, trying to sound upset.
"We've lost Star Fox, sir," the panda whispered. He scraped his foot across the crimson carpet, back and forth. He seemed ashamed, not looking up at his commander. "Andross is demanding immediate surrender or . . ."
Pepper was not listening to the panda. He was halfway between chastising him and throwing up. He turned back toward the window, clasping his paws behind his back and looking down at the street below again. So many people . . . innocent civilians . . .
"Sir?"
"Go, Parson. Get as far away from this place as you can."
"But . . ."
"Go! Take your family and leave!"
"Yessir."
Pepper listened as the door softly closed behind him and footsteps echoed through the hallway quickly. "God help us . . ." he muttered.
~Fortuna, Five Days Later~
"I don't want it!" Jesika growled, burying her face in her arms. She glared, her dark brown eyes glistening, at the plate of cheese fries and the soda in front of her. Across the table from her, her friend, a young coyote, rubbed his face slowly, growling something under his breath.
"You said you liked this food," he said, trying to remain patient. "You have to eat something."
"I'm not hungry," she said, sniffling. She turned to face the window, watching the people outside. They were extremely quiet, as if at a funeral. The thought of another invasion and occupation terrified Fortunians. Their numbers had dwindled drastically during the first one just about nine months ago.
"I know what happened is unfair," the coyote replied. "But you're not the only one here who lost someone. It's not easy on any of us. But you have to eat, Jeshi." He sighed. After all, they might not get much to eat for a long time now . . .
Jesika sighed and munched on one of the cheese fries slowly, looking down at the table. "Happy, Snif?" she muttered.
"Better," Snifit replied, looking out the window too. Off in the horizon, a dark form appeared. His eyes narrowed quickly and he grabbed Jesika's plate, pulling it away from her. "Come on. We'll get a doggie bag."
"What's going on?" the vixen asked quietly, following him while pulling on her jacket. She picked up their drinks, balancing them precariously while walking out the door.
Snifit did not answer her, at least not verbally. He reached over, pulling a fire alarm, then grabbed her arm and started running. How . . . how did they get here so fast? He cursed in Fortunian and jerked her into his car. "Strap yourself in! Hurry!"
By now, she had seen the approaching warship. She did as she was told quickly and gripped her seat. "We're not going to make it!" she yelled.
Relyt did not say anything and gunned the engine, sending the small aircar zooming down the street at top speed. He narrowed his eyes. She was right, they weren't going to make it. He looked over at her. "Close your eyes, Jesika. Keep them closed."
In the distance, the ship fired a terrible, unimaginable beam of energy at the small military base. It came crashing towards them, ripping the sound barrier, and then the light barrier.
It has been said that when a nuclear explosion occurs, you never hear the sound. There is a flash of blinding light, and then nothing. It is the silent explosion, a death that occurs in a nanosecond.
The beam was not a nuclear explosion. It was far more barbaric.
The aircar left the base limits at the exact moment the beam hit. It struck the middle of the city, instantly killing almost 99 percent of the city's inhabitants. The explosion then spread at a terrific speed, causing heartwrenching explosions, mixed with screams, to be heard for miles and miles around.
Finally, it caught up to the little aircar. The young coyote lost control of it as soon as the shockwave hit. It bounced, like a child's rubber toy ball, flipped a few times, then landed-miraculously-face up in the cold Fortuna snow.
Then, nothing but silence. Silence that lasted mere minutes, but seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, movement was seen inside the vehicle. The young coyote crawled out, gripping his badly broken arm-which had a bone sticking out of it jaggedly-and squirmed over to the passenger side.
The young vixen looked dead. She had a terrible gash on her forehead, allowing blood to trickle down the side of her face. Several ribs were obviously broken, one even sticking out just as gruesomely as the coyote's broken arm. Her eyes were closed, almost swolen shut.
"Jesika!" he yelled, gripping the door handle and pulling his paw back quickly. It felt like he had touched molten lead. "Wake up! Please!"
The young vixen turned slightly, then groped for the door handle. She pulled it and rolled out of the car, falling into the snow and whining in pain as her injuries began to hurt even more being touched by the ice. "Hi . . ." she said dumbly. "Are you my angel?"
Snifit would have laughed if he was not in so much pain. He fell facedown in the snow. "C'mon . . . we have to get to the hideout."
~Macbeth: Ten Days Later~
"Father? What's going on?" a concerned Passion asked. They were in the throne room of the Wovstah Palace on Macbeth. Her father, a noble wolf, had his back turned to her. "Daddy?"
"There's something wrong," he muttered. "Something doesn't feel right. Take the children down into the lower levels, Passion."
"But why?"
"Mommy!" Kitsune, her young son, came running down the hall, tugging his little sister, Sakura, by the arm. "Mommy!"
"What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down next to the young boy, who immediately latched onto her neck. He was shaking.
"Some men are outside and they said they want grandpa and you! They have guns and they shot at us and . . ."
"Shh! Shh! It's okay . . ." she said, looking over at her father. Her eyes showed some fear, now. It was becoming more and more obvious who these visitors were . . .
"Take them, Passion! Hurry! You must get out of here!" he said bluntly, turning his back on her again to hide his tears. He sighed. Where were his boys? He had not seen either of them in over a week. He prayed they had not been hurt . . . he shook his head, then repeated the order. "Go!"
Passion nodded, this time complying. "Go hug Grandpa goodbye, Sakura, Kitsune," she said hastily. The two cubs ran up to do so as their mother turned away and started walking down the hall slowly.
"Passion?" she heard her father call behind her.
"Y-yes?"
"I love you."
Passion opened her mouth to say something, but her two young children ran up and grabbed onto her leg, startling her. She turned around to see around half a dozen Venomians walk up to her father. She grabbed the kids' paws and pulled them into a corner, motioning for them to stay quiet.
"Greetings, your majesty."
"Emperor Andross sends his salutation."
"Yes, he is looking forward to meeting you again!"
King Johnathan Wovstah growled back at them, "I'd die before I surrender to that scum. Begone!"
The Venomians all laughed at him and started backing up, feigning to leave. Passion turned around just in time to see dozens of lasers being fired into her father. At first, he did not even jerk. He was a strong man, but the lasers tore him asunder. After what seemed like an eternity, he collapsed to the floor, the lasers more or less cauterizing his wounds. His last breath was more of a feral groan than a breath.
"N-No!" she yelled, but the Venomians didn't seem to hear her. They had already left the room, looking for more victims.
~Venom: Two Days Later~
Andross leaned back in his throne and cackled darkly. He looked at a screen that showed that Katina, Zoness, and even Corneria had fallen to him. It had worked perfectly. His brilliant device had conquered the entire Lylat System.
Of course, he could not take full credit for the accomplishment. There was one other who had . . . contributed. But that was of little consequence at the moment.
He swirled his wine glass slowly, watching as the blood red liquid sloshed back and forth. Of course, there was the problem as to what to do with the now conquered enemy soldiers and civilians. Organizing a genocide as he had done on Fortuna all those months ago was bad for public relations.
But then, what could the public really do about it?
"Delicious," he said darkly.
To be continued…
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Okay, if you weren't in this part of the story, relax. This is just the prologue. Many of you will come into play later. If you have any comments, questions, death threats, or anything else, then email me at jesika_starwatcher@rockforlife.zzn.com. Thank you very much.
