A/N – Only one thing- should I continue? It'll be long and detailed, and will somewhat model the Star Wars X-Wing series, if you've read them. I have the first few chapters, review if you want more. I know I've started unfinished stories… but haven't we all???
Oh yeah, this is based off of Star Fox, which I don't own. And after countless hours of playing the new Star Fox Adventures game in Walmart and Toys-R-Us, I can't wait to get it.
Holy crap, I forgot… the prologue is based 4 years before the N64 game.. important info
Chapter 1 – Prologue
Keeve Bryant peered out over the crystalline waters of Zoness. The afternoon sun glanced across the waves like a thousand sparkling diamonds. The pure water lapped at the beach, producing a lulling sound enough to sooth a crying kit into calm rest.
It was working wonders on the tall lynx as he sat on the beach, relaxing to the serenity. The crescent island he was on was used as a military installation, an outpost assigned to patrol their zone and protect any merchant or civilian ships from marauders.
A simple mission for a single squadron of Arwings.
Designated Crescent Squadron, it was commanded by Commander Fray Bridgens. Bridgens was a young pilot, yet skilled in both leadership and flight, she was the ideal candidate for the new squad. Barely a year earlier the green squadron had been assigned to the base, protecting innocents from increasingly frequent assaults. Their stay was permanent until things quieted down in the flight space surrounding Zoness.
For all Keeve cared, he wouldn't mind staying there once everyone else left. He leaned back on his left elbow and stretched his long legs across the sand.
He had barely made it into the cockpit of an Arwing, as tall as he was. Being 6'4" (uhh... :gets calculator: ) 1.9 meters made him great at basketball, but flying was his true passion.
Sirens sounded from behind Keeve, a klaxon for all the pilots to proceed to the briefing room. Three short soundings signaled an emergency, and he watched as a four Arwings blasted into the sky.
He ran up the beach and along the steep path, brushing sand from his brown and black mottled fur. As he jogged, Keeve wondered what was attacking this time. It was standard procedure to call in the off-duty pilots during a sortie, but as the klaxon sounded again, in the emergency signal, Keeve knew it had to be something big. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and he quickened his pace.
The lights of the briefing room dimmed as Keeve entered. Apparently, he had been among the last to arrive. He had changed into his flight suit as quickly as possible. His chest heaved slightly as he took his seat in the back, next to his wingman, James Harvey. The medium height and built salamander looked at his watch.
"You're twenty-two seconds later than I am," he whispered, "Where were you? Swimming to Crag Island?"
Crag Island was a small lump in an expansive ocean. Nearly three nautical miles from Crescent Island, speed swim competitions were held base wide. Keeve had refused to participate; he hated swimming.
"I was on the beach, give me a break," he retorted.
A still image appeared on the screen, and it held a grim picture. Fur-made debris lined an undefined battlefield, obviously pieces from an exploded ship of some sort. In the distance, MacBeth was visible, and further back was Edena. But within the combat zone, three fireballs signified the end of three ships.
Keeve raised his brows. It was a large battle that the end of three ships would be caught on one silent stopped image. He shuddered.
Commander Bridgens was standing by the screen. She held up the pointer to a blurred but recognizable ship.
"The situation is deteriorating fast for our defending flight," she began without preamble, "I need your heads clear and your decisions good. The weaknesses of this fighter are its lack of maneuverability and abundant shielding; the strengths are its speed, and as we see here, numbers. Refrain from smart bombs and hyper lasers. Man your ships."
James glanced a somber face at Keeve, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"You have a bad feeling about everything," Keeve punched his shoulder lightly; "Let's go kick some real stupid tails."
But the salamander didn't lose his grim suspicion. However, he kept the dissention to himself as he climbed into his Arwing and started the preflight checks. James spared a glance around to each face of the eight remaining pilots. Keeve gave him a thumbs up, and James returned it.