Author's Note and new project introduction:
While not new to the StarFox fandom (I've got every game, even the beta for SF2 that never got completed) I am new to the AU and Crossover genre. The bulk of my previous works are all cannon. Because of this I've been labeled as something of a cannon freak, so I decided to try stepping out of that stereotype and go for something new. Basically this fic comes from a really strange idea that I got while playing Assault. I found both Assault and Adventures to be sadly under appreciated games –I love them, still play them. To heck that they're "too easy" or "unlike previous StarFox games", they're fun, and that's all that matters to me- so maybe with my spin on it non-StarFox fans might take a look at this and see the potential of these two awesome games.
To those who like both games, kudos to you, and enjoy my bizarre yet serious spin on both games.
Post Script: To my "SOR" readers: No I'm not quitting Shards, just taking a break for a bit, I'll get back to Lloyd and co. later.
Something like Euthanasia…
Chapter One: It's official, we're broke…
Tapping his fingers in time with the wild riffs of the screaming guitar solo, his typing was if nothing else, constant. He loved the hard sound of human "Rock" loved the smash of drums and howling guitars. The wild rush of untamed sound -that while they tried their hardest, Cornerian rock bands had never quite been able to simulate- made his blood pound between his pointed ears and made his tail slash through the air like a knife.
Just don't start singing, you don't know what they're really singing about and if Slip's inter-solarsystem specie translator implant kicks in at the wrong time and he hears you singing about.. chickens or something then he'd never let it go.
So he clicked his long tongue against the roof of his mouth in time with the strange human lyrics, and wondered why a bunch of Ape related sentient creatures would dub themselves "bump of chicken". Half of him engrossed in the music, the other half continued to type. Statistic reports were something he could do in his sleep, he'd done enough of them by now, and the information never really changed.
Well except on the money column, he winced as he calculated their losses of yet another day without work. Once upon a time, right after Andross' defeat and the Venom Army's downfall he'd thought nothing of money. They'd made a fortune, it'd last forever...
Well grow up and learn. It cost tons of money to maintain a whip crack fighting force, and when things had become tight and jobs scarce… Well Star Fox had the trained personnel, but precious little more than that nowadays.
Lifting his head, he bared his teeth in small snarl at the shadow that fell over his writing panel. Seeing it was Rob, Fox canned the look and turned snarl into apologetic smile. The now bi-pedual android looked, if the light was just right, rather ape like, even the shadow was somewhat sapian. Not liking the thought. Images of the long dead Andross drifted into his mind because of it, Fox pushed it aside.
"Hey, Rob, what's up?"
Only a storm of static that ended in a shrill screech was the reply. Wincing, the canine felt his ears slick back against the sound.
"Slippy! Get in here! Rob's breaking up again!-" then to the 'bot. "-I'm sorry man, I can't fix you, but Slip will get it done."
A cold hand settled on his shoulder, the robot's long, four fingered paw, closed around his shoulder. It was like ice, Fox wanted to shiver, but he kept that to himself and looked into those bright yellow eyes. Eyes…. Lights…. What they were, well it depended on who you asked. They'd become eyes for him during the last campaign, when defying his circuitry and programming Rob had disconnected himself to the battery system they'd been charging him up at and had crawled -with only his arms to carry him since they hadn't made him legs yet- to the weapons' room and had hacked into the Great Fox's weapon system.
They'd been losing, and that dry voice proclaiming that the Great Fox's cannons were one hundred percent operational and aimed on the Venom armada had been music to everyone's ear.
"S' OK." Fox tried to lift his ears from his skull, by they really didn't want to toe in line. "I'm alright, just got a bit of a headache now. I'm OK though, really."
Nodding, Rob released him. The android turned and the joints in his neck gave out with a sick pop. The robot couldn't bring his head up. The effect was something like a lame zombie movie, save it was a robot, not a dead furless ape. Finally, with an air of mute frustration, Rob reached up with a hand, and straightened his head and neck out. One hand supporting his head, the other hanging limp, the Star Fox android shuffled off to the far side of the room and plugged himself in to a socket in the wall.
Kinda like an oven, really.
Fox's stomach growled, and he groaned. The android lifted his head and again those yellow eyes were locked onto him.
"I'm on rations, can't pig out, Slippy's not pigging out, right? Peppy isn't complaining. So I can't either."
Gritting his teeth, ignoring his traitorous stomach, the son of James McCould tried to focus on the report. It was done though, so there wasn't anything to focus on, except the clawing feeling in his gut.
"Fox would be very disappointed in you right now."
Hopping like the Toad he was, Slippy shoved his hands behind his back to hide the jar of chocolate cookies. Hints of what he'd been doing –trying to scarf down the whole jar's worth of food in ten seconds- hung around his lipless mouth in the form of tell tale crumbs.
"Slippy Toad." Peppy sighed, pushing a drooping ear awy from his eyes. He was an old Hare now, in his fifties during the final war (refusing to admit it, but the stark truth was there every morning when he looked in the mirror) and even older now. Still, age didn't take what he was from him, even as the guilt ridden Toad whimpered Peppy tapped his temple. "Did you think you could hide it from me, what you were doing?"
"Kinda stupid... thinking I could hide anything from a telepath, huh?" Slippy sniffled.
"Yes, it was." Peppy crossed his arms in front of his chest. The drooping ear decided to give the ghost of staying up, and fell over an eye. Ignoring it, Peppy's furry face twitched, his whiskers bristled in impatience at Slippy's whining. "Now then..."
"I'm sorry... and I won't do it again?" Slippy hazarded.
"Try agian." Peppy glowered, years of having Fox pull stunts under his care had taught Peppy how to glower really well.
"Ummm..." Slippy pulled the cookie jar from behind his back. Peering inside he could see that quite a few remained despite his best efforts. "Wow, there's quite a few left, I should go share them with Fox... and you?"
"Why thank you." Peppy smirked. "I will have one."
"You... you just wanted a cookie!" Slippy flared, his voice going up into the shrill octives of pure squeakyness, a common occurance that happened either when he was mad or in danger.
"Just chocolate?" Peppy mummbled, reaching in and pulling out a cookie he sniffed it. "No carrot slices mixed in? Very thoughtless of you, you should consider the tastes of your friends when making treats. When did you bake these anyways?"
Grinning, Slippy waited until Peppy had stuffed a sizable porton of the cookie in his mouth before answering.
"You get back here, you evil, disrespectful, little whiper-"
"Dear Star Log," Fox grumbled what he was writting even as he typed. "Slippy and Peppy are having yet anouther fight. I swear Slippy provokes Peppy just to watch the old Hare squirm."
"I heard that, McCloud!" Peppy roared.
Rolling his eyes, Fox continued to type. "It's amazing to think that Peppy is actually fifty six and Slipy is twenty one, you'd think there were five and two, the way they go at it...."
"You're slowing down old Hare!" Slippy sang, his voice wavering between it's customary shrillness and his -strangley- deeper laughter. "Do you need your walker today Pep-"
"Walker nothing! Eat blaster!"
"I've been puting some SERIOUS thought into spending some of our funds on something strong enough to put me out of my misery. But since the prices of wine keep going up, so I guess I have to endure being sober."
The sound of lazer fire and Slippy's cries grew louder. Cocking his head to the side, considering it, Fox sighed.
"New rule: when off duty all StarFox Personael will turn in thier blasters to me. OK, Rob, close the... oh opps. I'll do it, you're charging up. I got it, just enjoy he power boost."
Shocked, Fox stoped turning off the main computer and turned the the 'droid.
"Hey, weren't you just broke earli-" Yellow eyes were fixed on him, the expressionless face somehow seemed curled into a smile. "When did you learn how to fix-?"
There was a blast, an even shriller scream on Slippy's part. The ace moaned, put a paw over his eyes, and counted to ten. Old Star Fox saying six, the shriller Slip screams the closer he is to getting shot down. By the sound Slip must be really close to getting shot down. Which meant that Peppy had remembered to put on his glasses this morning, which meant the Hare's aim was going to be as good as ever because those glasses had itty bitty cross hairs sketched into them that followed a gun's path.
"Maaaan." Killing the power with a flick of a switch, Fox plunged the command center of the Great Fox into space like darkness. "Today's going to be a long day."
As if to agree Rob's eyes flickured, and if Fox could have sworn that he knew Slippy hadn't had the money to pay for emotion enhancement circutry that Rob was trying to laugh at him.