S'up it's David and I really liked Crazyfoxie's KrystalXWolf pairing idea, so it inspired me to make a Star Wolf origins story, using that pairing. I really want to stick to the facts though, because most Star Wolf fanfics go way outta control. So the story takes place sometime before the first game, Star Fox, (because that's the only game that Wolf isn't in). Please rate and comment afterwards. Enjoy.

Star Wolf (working title.)

Chapter 1: Nerves of Steel, Wits of Venom

Unnamed Planet, 6 BLW

He scavenged through the cave, eyes scanning each pile of rocks he went into. But every pile spelt failure. Cursing under his breath, he moved over to a different pile, sweat added to to it from his brow. It was extremely hot in these caves, because unnaturally green lava rivers flowed nearby. But surprisingly cold outside, on the planet's surface.

This is a helluva strange place, he thought. Of all the places, why the hell did they leave me here?

Of course it was still a question who "them" was. He scanned the rest of the cave. Hmmm...Nothing here. Dammit. He picked up the spiky stalactite he used as a weapon. It had a broken piece of glass wedged into the top, and on it's base were numbering marks which he used to keep count of all the creatures he had killed in self-defense. It was his weapon, his only prize. He stepped outside, his fur shivering under the icy air.

He paced the dry ground, thinking about other possible places he could find food.

Suddenly he heard loud blasting noise. He spun around, club raised. His eyes shown in amazement.

It was a ship. A white, sleek ship with blue booster compartments and concealed gliders. On the hull underneath the dark green glass window hood, the ship's seal, a red fox with a pair of wings, shone brightly against the white.

A flying fox? That's a crappy symbol for a ship like that, was the first thought that came to his mind.

Then the hood shot up and a figure stepped out of it. What the-? It was a fox, tall, well-built, bright fur, and good features. Almost too good. He wore a green G-suit with a grey flight jacket, along with metallic flight boots. He had a small beard hinting that he was in his late 20's, and also wore a pair of sunglasses.

He looked and gave a warm smile. "Well, what do we have here?"he asked. He looked up and down. "You look like a Cornerian. Are you lost?"

What's that supposed to mean? he thought, club still raised. Then he spoke.

"What's it to you, flyboy? You don't look like you came here on purpose either."

The fox laughed. "You sure got spunk for a castaway in rags."

Rags. Huh. He glared at him.

"Hey, joking. I'm just saying people your age don't turn up just like that. How old are you anyway?"

Club still raised, he took a step back. "Thirteen, I think."

"What happened? Where are your parents?"

You tell me.

The fox took a look around the desolate planet. "How long have you lived here?"

"My whole life."

"What? But this place is a death zone! Any living creatures here have died within less than a month according to our data."

Data? He stared at the fox blankly.

He took another look. "Amazing. You survived here thirteen years, but you don't look like you were born here."

Then, a few feet away, two more figures approached. One was a gray hare and one was a short and stout pig.

"James, what the hell!" exclaimed the hare. "Don't just fly off like that, we got worried."

"Yeah!" grunted the pig, his tiny eyes wide. "This planet gives me the heebie-jeebies! Let's just-"

He froze. "What's that? An inhabitant?"

James smiled. "He's cool guys, he's with me. I detected his life-form on my ship's radar, so I came and found him."

"But he doesn't look Vemomian at all. He's not a species I've seen before."

Species? These weirdos keep talking more bizarre things every minute.

"Listen, James, or whatever your mother named you. You can just take your friends and go home."

James and the rest looked stunned. "Look we're just trying to help you."

"Yeah, right. That's what he said too. But he was a damn liar! He said 'eveything is arranged' or 'we're here to help' or some other bullcrap. But he was just some twisted psyco-path with a bunch of weird tools and-"

"Wait, tools? How do you know all this stuff if you've been on this planet? There's barely any life here, let alone any technology or society"

He folded his arms. "Oh really? Then that giant base in the middle of the planet's core is nothing, huh?"

James looked up sharply. "What base?"

"The one crawling with primate soldiers and that lunatic who experiments on people. He almost captured me too. But I'm too smart for him."

James exchanged looks with the hare. Then he turned to the pig. "Alert Pepper and the rest of the Cornerian Squadron. Looks like this is out of our league of combat."

The pig squealed, "Ooooh, snort, imagine what kind of reward they'll give us when they see what we've dug up."

James turned. "I think that credit goes to our friend here."

"Well, thanks for finally giving me some credit. But I don't need your gratitude."

James laughed. "You really are something, kid." He glanced back at the pig. "Pigma, hurry!"

"Wha–? Oh right!" He scrambled away, tripping clumsily as he did so.

James made his way back to his ship dusting his boots from the planet's murky dirt.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Back to my place, kid. I gotta get going."

He kept going, then stopped, as if an idea suddenly came to him. "Why don't you come with me?"

The stalactite club automatically shot up.

James chuckled. "Don't worry, it's not a dangerous place."

"That's what he said before he-"

"He was doing illegal things, doing tests like that. But I can take you better place."

"Yeah, and maybe you can also hand me a thousand bucks and the choice of a hundred ponies. Tell it to a three-year-old."

"No, serious. It's the Cornerian Flight Academy on the other side of the Lylat System. It's got dorms, food, other boys to get along with, everything. You'll learn ho w to fly a decent ship, how to survive, how to think, how to fight, how to protect others. After you graduate you can go enlist to the Cornerian Army, or leave and start your own life. The choice is yours."

"How do I know that you're not lying? That this Cornerian Flight whatever is just-"

"My son goes there. That should be enough proof. Anyway I can't just leave you here."

Club still raised, he looked around. This was the planet he raised himself on. The place he had called home. He turned to James.

Thud! The sound of the club landing near his feet echoed across the distant wastes.

"All right. I'll go with you to this place. But if it's not as nice as you make it sound," he grinned. "Then you're gonna need more than those glasses to protect your face."

James laughed. "Whatever you say, kid."

"It's not 'kid'."

James turned around to face him. "Oh? What is it, then?"

He took another good look at the 'kid' he had been addressing. He was tall for his age, broad-built, with large biceps and washboard abs. He was wearing the ragged remains of a stolen freighter uniform. He had a gray fur, a long snout, and a jagged line of top-fur scaling the back and front of the top of his head. His eyes shone a fearless streak of purple.

"Wolf, flyboy. Wolf O'Donnell."

End of Chapter 1

Well, I hope you guys enjoyed that. The reason I gave vague input on Wolf was because I was saving his identity for the end of the chapter (though some of you probably already guessed it).

I'll be back with more of Star Wolf's origin.