A/N: Hey guys! Big sorry for the long silence, the last month were a bit chaotic. I'll do my best to find again a regular schedule. Golden Boy of Sargasso isn't abandonned, in fact I'll begin the next chapter shorty, right after I publish another oneshot I've been working on for a while. I hope you guys haven't tuned out!
This work is submitted as part of the x-mas fanfic challenge from the Foxhole, a discord server about Star Fox fanfictions. Don't hesitate to join us! /pTDrJf58
Beware of the Silence, it Gets Addictive
A single diode shone on the console. Amidst the darkness, it stood out and illuminated the cockpit with a thin red glow, its reflection on the canopy tarnishing the otherwise unblemished view of the night sky. Fox tried pressing it, turning it, anything to shut it down. Not in the mood to peruse the thousand pages manual, he covered it with a tissue. It probably indicated some sort of emergency system that couldn't be turned off. Beside that, the rest of the cockpit was drown in darkness. With the exception of the radio, Fox had shut everything down. The Arwing had enough residual heat to warm him for a few hours, and with no asteroid in sight, stabilisers were of no use. He let the Arwing drift in the middle of Lylat, the stars in a slow circular motion around him.
It had become a routine during Jabanoa. With the war now over, Lylat renewed with its old beloved traditions, and Jabanoa might be the only holidays all planets shared. Distant family members would reunite around a generous meal, exchange gift, sing some annoying songs and decorate a bush. For a day, the system pretended all was well—the magic of Jabanoa, as they called it.
Slippy spent the holidays with his parents and uncles, Falco had his own plans, and Peppy gathered with Lucy and his extended family. He had offered Fox to join, and although Fox always declined, a part of him yearned to accept. But Fox feared he'd never feel again the mirth of the Jabanoas spent with James. After his death, Jabanoa became another tradition to Fox. Every year, he would isolate himself, and muse over the past, the future, his life, everything and anything.
For a whole day, nobody would disturb him, and no emergency would drag him out of his me-time.
He blew on the glass, drew a happy face on the mist, and watched it fade away. Sometimes he would point his finger at a star and wonder if, at that very moment, another life form around that star was pointing back at him. He'd almost forget the sweat and stress associated with the Arwing, as their usages was usually more brutal.
Another diode blinked, green this time. Fox growled and opened the screen. Someone broadcasted on an unencrypted frequency. An emergency would carry a different signature, so it might be some prankster polluting this obsolete protocols. Fox had already dragged another tissue when curiosity got ahold of him. He turned a button.
"Worldes bliss ne last no throwe…"
A woman voice sang through the speaker. At the very first note, Fox knew he'd let the radio on. It filled the cockpit so nicely, as if it had the perfect shape to replace the silence. He recognised a few word of old Papetooan.
"It wit and wend awey anon…"
Fox relaxed on the seat. That unexpected song would be the only intrusion he'd allow today. He waved his paw, following the rhythm.
"Mid sorewe and wid evel—"
The woman seemed to stop mid-sentence. Fox dared not to speak or move, as though his presence caused the unfortunate interruption.
"Is anybody there?"
He chuckled. "Don't pay attention to me."
"Oh… My apologies, I just realised I accidentally broadcasted by putting my mug on the radio."
As she spoke normally, Fox noticed her voice was one of a senior. "No worry, really. You can keep going."
"Really? Er…" she said, followed by an awkward silence. "Sorry, I can't… It's not the same now that I know you're listening."
He shrugged, slightly disappointed. "That's a bummer."
"Old Charlotte appreciates the compliments though." The canal closed, and reopened a few moments later. "Say, I see you're in a fighter jet, you're not here to attack my ship, are ya?"
"I had no plans, but now that you're mentioning it…"
She laughed. "I mean you can, but that'd be a lot of effort for not much."
Her ship was now close enough for Fox's ship to pick up additional data. She flew a heavy freighter, used for long distance transportation.
"You're travelling alone? Aren't you afraid of pirates?" he asked.
"Nah. I did plenty of Jabanoas in my freighter, never got bothered." She chuckled, "When pirates have better respect of holidays than your boss, it's time to change your job, I'm telling you."
"What are you carrying on this day of Jabanoa?"
"Dunno. Books, toys, dildos, whatever people order." she replied. "And a lot of last-minute gifts probably. If a customer pays the extra to have delivery on public holidays, usually that's the reason."
"Huh. I had no idea it was an option."
"And I wish it wasn't. You really think I want to be in space right now?" She paused, expecting an answer. "And what are you doing out there? Don't you wanna spend Jabanoa on the surface?"
Fox sighed and stared into the void for a moment. "I don't mind being out there."
She chortled. "You should become a freighter pilot! Perfect job if you don't like holidays."
"It's not that I don't like them. It's just… it used to be a family thing for me and…"
Fox never knew why he mentioned that. He felt as if the empty space around them erased the usual social boundaries between strangers. He shook his head.
"Sorry about that."
"No it's fine, I understand. I understand perfectly."
There was something soothing in her voice. Without doubts, her grandchildren would love her.
"Anyway, now I spend Jabanoa with the stars. And, exceptionally this year, a lovely stranger."
"Makes two of us, mate," she replied. "But just to be sure, I'm not bothering you or anything? Being alone can be relaxing so I'd understand if… You know what I'm saying?"
Fox smiled. "I'll have plenty of silence today, don't worry about that."
"It gets addictive, am I right?" she said."You know… Sometimes when I'm in the middle of nowhere, alone, I just start thinking. About why am I doing this. Why any of us is doing anything. I mean I never cared about politics and stuff. Even during the war I kept flying. But when I'm told to circumvent Macbeth, and I when I pass by and see the destroyers, the cruisers, the ashes and fire, I just wonder… Why? Why are you doing this?"
He closed his eyes. "Yeah… People in the middle of the ashes and fire don't have the luxury to stop and wonder."
"And a few days later I hear of a food shortage somewhere," she continued, ignoring his remark. "Whilst I'm flying with metric tons of food, knowing half of them will be rotten by the time I arrive. What lead to this? Who saw that system and was like 'yeah mate that's so neat'?"
"And then I think of me, of Ron and the boys waiting for me back home on Papetoon. I think of Ron trying to explain them why mum won't be here this year again, and I wonder… what the hell am I doing here? So far away from them?"
Fox nodded, sympathetic. "I guess asking for a day off isn't an option."
"Well, somebody gotta deliver those dildos." She cleared her throat. "Somebody gotta run the emergency services. Somebody gotta drive the trains. Somebody gotta patrol the streets. And the spirit of Jabanoa has all of us off its list, so that it can provide that rich kid his new phone."
He didn't respond, and they spent the next minute in quietness. As if it heard the call, Macbeth entered Fox's vision. He followed it with his eyes, memories of the ashes and fire still vivid.
She interrupted his thoughts, "Say, you have anything to drink?"
"Not officially," he replied with a smirk.
"Then let's celebrate—unofficially of course. Let's have a decent Jabanoa this year."
Fox unbuckled and reached under his seat. After a few attempts, he got hold of the first aid kit and placed it on his knees. Inside, a small transparent bottle waited for him. The official rules prohibited any psychotropic substances, but one genius of an admiral once argued a sip of alcohol could help in desperate situations—he knew it was nonsense, but it was a lie everyone silently agreed to believe.
"I can't see you, you're ready?"
He opened the bottle and winced as the waft hit his nose. "On your mark."
"Okay, er… To the nurses and doctors."
"To the firefighters."
"To the soldiers."
"To the fast food workers."
"To the tow-truck drivers."
"To the tech support guys."
She waited a moment before continuing, "To those with no family."
He smiled. "To those away from their family."
"And to everyone who can't celebrate Jabanoa."
"Merry Jabanoa."
"Merry Jabanoa."
He swilled down the transparent liquid, refraining from couching it burned his throat. Petrol would taste better than that. He closed the bottle after only one sip, gulping multiple times to remove the horrendous taste. From the repeated coughs he heard, he guessed she enjoyed it as much as him.
"We'll be out of reach soon." she said. "Say, if you ever drop by Papetoon, we should have a proper pint. Watcha think?"
"That'd be great!"
"Alright, lemme know when you drop by. And…" She seemed to hesitate. "Listen, I don't know what you've been through. But me too, I thought calm and solitude would do me good. You think it will help you heal and move forwards, but after years of space travel, lemme tell you, it doesn't. Beware of the silence. It's not a cure, it's a drug. You do you, okay? But… think a bit of what you need. Just an advice."
Fox closed his eyes. "Safe travel, ma'am."
"Safe travel, mate."
The green diode died out. Fox rewound the encounter, her last word echoing in his mind like a warning. He never suspected it'd have such an effect. Something has changed within him, and after consideration, he made a decision.
He connected the radio to Corneria's phone system and called Peppy. "Hey, it's me. You guys are still at home? You mind if I join?"