Welcome to my newest fic, the prequel to my fic Star Fox: My Life is Yours. I hope you enjoy, and remember to leave a review if you decided to read the whole thing. Thanks!



Why did that word seem to linger in his head so often these days? He hated life, love, everything. Still, something, somewhere told him that the word love was important. What good had it ever done him? What good would it ever do him?

Love, to Fox, was nothing more than the illusion of joy; the very thing that drives all sentient things to their demise. "Love makes you weak," he would often say, "I've experienced it first-hand."

Did he really have a right to say that? He thought he'd been in love before, but had he really? Fox wasn't sure; he was still very young. Far more mature than other 18 year olds, mind you, but still very young.

Only two years had passed. It seemed like an eternity. Fox was ready to retire now and be done with it. He knew he couldn't, but if the opportunity presented itself, Fox would have a hard time turning it down. Two, long, arduous years.


Fox still remembered that day to the smallest detail; even the number of Venomian fighters swarming into the large antechamber.


He remembered they were everywhere; swooping in left and right, smashing into each other, into him. Red lasers clouded his vision like a fog. It was then that James McCloud's face appeared on his communications channel.

"Fox, you need to leave."

"I'm not going to let you die here, Dad!"

17 lasers flew by his cockpit, one striking the cargo bay in the nose.

"GO! YOU HAVE TO, NOW!" James was screaming as Fox's world entered into a blur. True, if Fox wanted to survive, he'd have to go, and now.

"You're too far away! Dad!"

"I love you, son." James said, his signature smirk across his face, the click of the communications channel ceasing to exist.

Then an explosion in the distance.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo…." Fox's shrieks of terror and hatred drained from his brain. He remembered shuddering behind the Arwing's controls for hours, finally landing back in Corneria.

One thing Fox didn't remember was how he spent those first few nights, when all notions of gods, love, and joy left him alone in the cold, snowy streets on Corneria. He wandered aimlessly for days, screaming at passerby and innocent commuters, spitting and barking at children. People must have thought him mad. Fox thought himself mad.

Soon- perhaps weeks even, Fox couldn't remember, or didn't want to- Fox began to gain control over himself. He had to do something; he couldn't let his father's death be in vain. All for nothing.

That wasn't true; Fox was still here. He was still living, breathing. He could still fight. What to do now?

He decided to re-form the Star Fox team. Within two months, Fox McCloud, Slippy Toad, Falco Lombardi, and Peppy Hare all found themselves aboard the Great Fox, cleaning the control room.

Fox scoffed at himself, lying awake in his bunk. What a useless piece of garbage he turned out to be. No accolades, slowly burning through his inheritance, all because he was chasing a dream. The dream of revenge.

Fox didn't believe Andross was dead. No, not yet. He wanted Andross to see the hatred in his eyes, the pure depths of hell before him. If Fox ever saw him, face to face… Andross would pay. He'd rip him limb from limb, spraying his intestines all over the walls, the floor, the sky itself.

Fox was trembling with anger, breathing heavily, his paws balled into white-knuckled fists. He began to do a breathing exercise; one Peppy had taught him to calm him down in these situations. They worked, but it was never long before Fox again was biting cuts into his lower lip, gnawing at the air, shaking with fury.

Where had he done right in his life? Nowhere, apparently; he was a failure of a mercenary leader, he let his father die, he shook uncontrollably with frustration….he couldn't do anything right, he scared away any person he ever loved.

Fox didn't think he could love again. Nobody would ever love a bloodthirsty psycho anyways. He'd live his entire life alone; he'd need to accept that.


Fox stood up, perspiring from the heat in the room, and walked out into the hallway, wearing only sweatpants.

"Falco, up!" Fox rapped on the avian's door.

"Slippy!" Fox commanded.

Peppy was already up; he was always up before Fox. Fox walked into the kitchen and found him there, as he usually did every morning.

"Any missions coming in? Fox asked, an angry look on his face.

"Actually, one might be. Pepper contacted me earlier this morning and told me a situation might be developing on Sauria. He says whole continents of the planet are being ripped from the surface." Peppy said, loading bread into the toaster.

"Never been," Fox said, detached from the situation. He always tried to cheer up a bit around his teammates, his friends, but….what had he to be cheery about?

"Have you been doing to exercises I taught you?" Peppy asked, clearly taking note of Fox's less than joyful mood.

"Yes." Fox mumbled.

"Well, they don't seem to be working very well." Peppy joked. Had the nudge come from anybody else, Fox might have snapped and went ballistic. He just never seemed to mind Peppy's jokes.

"I'm going to the gym," Fox said, standing up, disregarding Peppy's presence.

"Poor kid…."






Fox groaned as he dropped down from the pull up bar. Well, more of an iron rod shoved into the doorway, but Fox called it the pull up bar.

We really need some money, Fox thought, looking around at all the old and outdated exercise equipment.

The whole ship looked this way; like it was held together by superglue and duct tape.

That mission on Sauria has to happen, or we're screwed, Fox thought.