AN: Hello, my name is Hookemhorns12. If you do by some small chance remember me, I'm that one guy who had that mediocre first story about the human secret agent and all that other #%$ that I deleted. I'm going to give it to you straight. When I first wrote that story, I didn't actually own a Star Fox game. I just came up with that story off the top of my head from reading other stories. So, after writing about other topics that I actually know about and playing through a few SF games, I've decided to give this topic another shot. Wish me luck, and tell me how I did.
[SOMEWHERE IN SPACE]
[UNAF LONG DISTANCE PATROL ALPHA- CALLSIGN "LEATHERHEAD"]
[October 30, 2683- MISSION CLOCK: 14:26]
[DIARY ENTRY #12- Cpt. Blake O'Brien]
That's what he typed into the computer onboard his ship. Being in a United Nations Air Force LDP was not easy work. When they say long distance, they mean long distance- as in past the desert planet Ra (named after the ancient Egyptian sun god). A single patrol takes about two weeks to go from Earth, to the edge of the colonies, then back. As soon as they get back, Bravo takes off into the black to take their place, followed by Charlie. All in all, they would have about four weeks of leave before being called back to the cramped quarters of their single seat F/A- 33 "Ultra Hornet".
Let's have a little briefing about the F/A-33. In the year 2367, the world's first manned space craft made it to Pluto and back, bringing many samples. Soon after, another space race not unlike the one way back in the 1960s occurred. Every country began to develop its own ships capable of traveling far out into space for explorative purposes. In 2394, Lockheed Martin made a joint venture with Boeing in order to create a ship for "Military purposes". Thus, after many years of research and experimentation, the F-25 was born. It looked much like the F-22 "Raptor" from the olden times, only it was capable of maneuvering in a vacuum for extended periods of time. The United States was the first to buy an order of 200 in order to protect cargo ships going to and fro from the colonies from the new threat of pirates. But, with every model, there's a problem. The user of the F-25 found that wings shook profusely during re-entry. So the team went back to the drawing board and began to study old blue prints of the Su- 47 from 2000. Sukhoi had long since gone out of business, so there was no legal dispute when they adopted the forward swept wing concept in order to reduce drag. Then came forth the F-25B, to put it simply, it looked like an F-22 with forward swept wings, but without the smaller wings located on each side of the cockpit. Then in 2450, the U.S. Navy perfected the energy cannon. Out of that came the F-25C. No one really saw the need to create more aircraft after they fitted one with energy cannons, which were even more powerful than a tank, so the F-25C stuck. Everybody wanted one, everybody needed one. If you had F-25Cs, you were the bad boy of the skies. A single shot from the three cannons mounted on the fuselage could penetrate five sheets of four inch Titanium-A armor plating. All was quiet for many years until another problem arose. The heat generated by such a powerful weapon had disastrous side effects. The sides of the fuselage would melt from such extreme temperature, causing a hole to be torn wide open on the craft and exposing the pilot to all of the gruesome elements of the vacuum. So, then came the F/A-33 with a scientific marvel of the era, energy shields. The F/A-33 that Blake flew carried two AIM-11A air to air missiles, two unguided all- purpose rocket pods with 8 rocket capacities, and four energy cannons- two on the nose, and one on the end of each wing.
Back to the story, Blake was making his usual diary entry with any observations that he had for later review.
"Cpt. Blake O'Brien. Fourteen hours, twenty six seconds since refuel with tanker Hermosa. So far no activity." He said in his heavy, smooth Scottish accent. His squad mates often poked fun at him for sounding like Cpt. McMillan from the COD remakes. "Johnny says his engine has been making a strange whining sound for the past four hours, we're going to have mechanics check it out when we reach the Abel system." Blake saved the file and stored it on the ship's data banks. I leaned back in his seat and let his head rest in his hands. There was no need to hold the wheel as the auto pilot was working perfectly, and they were right on course. Just then he heard a small beep and the holographic communicator on the control panel activated and gave him a view of a pilot's helmet with the visor pulled down and the oxygen mask hanging off one side. He couldn't see the man's eyes, but he could see a smirk on the man's face. He sighed irritably.
"Before you ask Taylor, no. How many times am I going to have to answer that question?"
"But sir," Cpl. Taylor said back. Being in the United Nations Air Force meant that you worked with people from all around the globe. Taylor was an American man in his early twenties from Los Angeles, California. "It wouldn't hurt to take a peak! Every time we've passed these coordinates I've picked up strange frequencies over the comms! Every time we pass the gas giant, I pick up little snippets over the channels. We're beyond Ra, so there's no possible way that it's coming from a nearby planet!"
"You're forgetting Taylor that this part of space is crawling with pirates and smugglers. It could be them trying to lay a trap. And trust me, getting my arse blown off by a homing mine is not on my bucket list! Now I will not hear another word about it or so help me God I will have you transferred to sector nine!" Blake said with finality. He'd said that a lot, but Taylor knew he wouldn't. Out of the other eight men (and one woman) that made up Alpha squadron, he liked Taylor the most. Now, he didn't choose favorites, but if he had to choose someone to back him up, Taylor would be it. That why he made him second in command, after all.
"Pleeeaaaase?" Taylor whined like a five year old in the toy store. Blake face palmed his visor and exhaled.
"Fine, but we go no farther than a thousand miles, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Taylor exclaimed.
"Listen up guys; we're taking a little detour. Taylor thinks he's picked up something." Blake said over the comms.
"Roger." Came the nine replies. Blake, being the leader of the formation, took control of his ship and turned to the right when they came to the large green gas giant. It was an odd gas giant. It stood alone in space, orbiting no known sun. Little did they know that it wasn't a gas giant, and that it was called Venom by the inhabitants of the system it was a part of…
So what do you think? I know it was kinda short but I just wanted this chapter as a little sample. Oh yeah, I also have a link to a picture of the F/A-33 on my profile if I confused you with the description of it. Remember to read, review, and stay tuned for the next chapter.