Post by fira000astrali on Jun 4, 2009 13:37:10 GMT -8
This is a fanfiction i wrote that loosely follows the events of Starfox Assault from the point of view of the Star Wolf team. I don't anything shown in the Starfox games, thats a (c) Nintendo, but I do own Sloan Dykstra, Red Generation, and everything else that doesnt show up in the games.
Tell me if you like it so i know to post chapter 2
Chapter 1:
Sloan stole a look at her reflection in a shallow puddle by her feet before stepping into a bar. She barely glanced at the neon sign hanging above the door. She knew that in blazing colours it proclaimed the name: Bleeding Rose. Bleeding in red, Rose in blue. Next to the words was a blue rose, with an animated red droplet dripping from a petal. She had heard that Wolf and his team mates frequented this bar, so it was the best place to hunt for information.
It didn't seem the type of place to find such high profile bandits. The walls were dark; whether from choice of paint or years of stains she couldn’t be sure, but the soft green patches were definitely nature’s touch. Red, blue, and green strobe lights flashed off the stage where a second rate band was performing. The carpet around the booths was disgusting, both in pattern and grime. Not a single chair had escaped being slashed or broken in some way, and some in the farthest corners were gutted of there stuffing completely. The colours were bland, either because they had started that way or years had weighed in on them, drying out even the most flamboyant shades to a pitiful homage of their former selves.
Thanks to the onstage performance that night, the only decent light source besides the strobe lights was the bright but hideous lamp hanging above two pool tables, both occupied by an assortment of surly looking teens. The song changed and there was an array of hoots and cheers as the inebriated patrons in the front row told the band’s sexy lead singer just what they thought of her.
Sloan decided it would be best if she kept her eyes down. Most people in a bar like this one weren't the kind who wanted to be recognized. The music was loud enough so you couldn’t eavesdrop on a conversation, but not so loud that you couldn’t have one yourself. She took a seat at a free barstool, the only free stool, next to a wolf with pale blue eyes that were glazed over with alcohol. She wondered what he had seen that was so terrible that he needed to drown it like that. She tried her best to ignore the scraggly looking hawk on her other side. From what she could tell he’d been passed out for hours.
The bartender, a skunk, tall and handsome, came over to her. His well kept fur, painfully noticeable over a ratty, threadbare purple uniform, made him seem awfully out of place.
“What’s yer’ poison?” he asked. His accent told Sloan he hailed from McBeth.
“Aquas Blue,” she answered. It had always been her favourite, and was more of a cooler than hard liquor.
"Seem a little young," the wolf muttered, his voice was hardly slurred at all from his drinking. Maybe his eyes always had that glazed look.
"Come on, bud," the avian next to him said, his voice slurred horribly. He wasn't holding his liquor as well as his partner, avians rarely did. "Leave the kiddalone."
"Man, shut up.”
“Wha’? Man, you shu’ up. I’m sick of your mouth.” He took a swing at his partner, but there was no force in the punch. It landed as a friendly, if heavy handed, pat on the back.
“You know what I’m sick of?”
“Ya’know wha’, I bet yer’ about t’tell me.”
“I am sick, of these dumps. I am sick of shitty hotels, and shitty bars. Just once, I want to know what the good life is like," the wolf growled. Sloan laughed darkly.
"You an' me both, man," Sloan assured him, though not really sure what had brought them to the topic. He stared into the Wolf’s eyes. They were so piercing, she wanted to look away, but looking away would be a sign of insecurity and weakness.
"Yeah?" He laughed too. "Yeah. So, what brings you down to this scummy little hole-in-the-wall anyways?" Sloan reached for the drink that the bartender had just placed at her elbow. She took a long gulp and watched the multi-shade, blue mixture swirl around the glass.
“My freedom. That’s what.”
“From who?” he asked, Sloan’s face hardened.
“You ever heard of the Warden?” The wolf looked at her with eyes that seemed sympathetic, but the look soon disappeared. She was glad. She was sick of sympathy, when in the end no one really did anything.
“Yeah, I’ve heard. You’re a prisoner of Sector Y,” he said. Sloan nodded. He knew all about them. Heck, he had probably hunted a few orphans that had somehow escaped from the Warden’s iron grasp.
The Sector Y Institute for the Parentally Challenged was run by a man called Alex Warren, but everyone knew him as the Warden, although Sloan had seen some of his rats call him “Mr. Warren, Sir.” “Thank you, Mr. Warren, sir. Of course, Mr. Warren, sir.” Sloan had spent her entire life in Sector Y, and now she had decided that she either had to escape him, or die.
“I’m looking for information on Star Wolf. I’m told he’s looking for a new crew member. The job may be my only chance to get free.”
“You’re awful young to hit the cockpit, and a gang of mercenary pirates isn’t the usual job for a kid you’re age. What are you, fifteen, sixteen on the outside?”
“What else can I do? If I just run, Warden’ll use government funds to buy a bounty hunter and get me back. You can’t just run real fast and hope real hard,” Sloan explained, ignoring the question of her age. The wolf looked at her, seeming to wrestle with something inside of him. Finally, he sighed in defeat.
“The first tryout is exactly a week from now and they go for seven days. Be at Sargasso Space station bright and early.” Sloan’s dark brown eyes widened.
“You think…?”
“If you can fly, you have a chance.”
She sat out another hour or two on that barstool, finishing her drink and listening to the casual talk of the two friends. She eventually said goodbye and got up to leave. The wolf grabbed her arm.
“My name is Roe Morgan. If you don’t get in, I may be able to get you into a cockpit. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be work.” Sloan nodded.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a bit of money. If I don’t get picked, Lylat will never see me again,” she said with faux bravery, her run real fast, hope real hard comment still in her ears. She knew if she couldn’t make the cut it was game over.
“damn shame,” the avian muttered into his drink. Roe released Sloan’s arm and gave her once last piece of advice before she left the Bleeding Rose.
“Clean up your slang. Wolf hates that shit.” Sloan nodded her thanks and left. She gazed around at the alleyway she had been deposited in. Like the inside of the bar, it was dark and grimy. Garbage littered the ground. A little ways up the alley to her left. She could hear someone stumbling around. She squinted into the darkness up that way, but saw nothing. Flipping up her collar against the damp breeze blowing in from the nearby sea, she turned to her right and began following the bright lights that would lead her to Corneria City’s main street, and civilized society. It was a place she had never really fit into anyways. She looked carefully around the desolate stretch of road she had emerged at, noticing only a young couple out on a late night stroll and a single car moving down the deserted street. She watched a forsaken plastic cup bounce and roll down the street in the wind before she moved into the blazing light of a streetlamp.
Usually, she didn’t like the light of streetlamps, they made her feel like she was on trial for simply being her, or on display at some kind of freak show for everyone to see and be amazed with. But tonight, she had no choice in the matter. She couldn’t look like she was hiding. She had forgotten to check in with one of the Marshals and she was now about thirty minutes past curfew. She shivered as another icy wind swept down the street, kicking dust into her face. The shiver wasn’t entirely from the cold.
“Funny seeing you here,” snarled a voice from behind her. Somehow, they always managed to come from behind. She whipped around and found herself standing inches away from a dragon. And she was angry.
“Marshal Green!” Sloan said, trying to look and sound surprised and completely stupid. A believable act, since Green thought every child on the station was an idiot. A fatal oversight on her part.
“You are far past curfew, and you didn’t even have the good sense to check in, we were about to send the police out after you!”
So nice to know someone is looking out for my wellbeing. Sloan thought sarcastically.
“I-I can explain, ma’am,” Sloan stammered, fiddling with her jacket and looking down at her well used sneakers, wishing most of her fear was only pretend.
“I’m sure you can, and I’m also sure Mr. Warren will be very interested in hearing it.” Green grabbed her arm and proceeded to half drag her down the street. Struggled to keep up, tripping over herself in an attempt to keep from falling flat on her face.
As she was forcefully taken to the transport that would take her and the others back to Sector Y, she saw a bright red star that, even in all the hours spent stargazing, she had never seen before. It was glowing so bright, she could even pick it out from the red-orange colour of Sector Z. she wondered if maybe it was Sargasso space station, lighting her way to a whole new life, one devoid of Sector Y, and the Warden.
Tell me if you like it so i know to post chapter 2
Chapter 1:
Sloan stole a look at her reflection in a shallow puddle by her feet before stepping into a bar. She barely glanced at the neon sign hanging above the door. She knew that in blazing colours it proclaimed the name: Bleeding Rose. Bleeding in red, Rose in blue. Next to the words was a blue rose, with an animated red droplet dripping from a petal. She had heard that Wolf and his team mates frequented this bar, so it was the best place to hunt for information.
It didn't seem the type of place to find such high profile bandits. The walls were dark; whether from choice of paint or years of stains she couldn’t be sure, but the soft green patches were definitely nature’s touch. Red, blue, and green strobe lights flashed off the stage where a second rate band was performing. The carpet around the booths was disgusting, both in pattern and grime. Not a single chair had escaped being slashed or broken in some way, and some in the farthest corners were gutted of there stuffing completely. The colours were bland, either because they had started that way or years had weighed in on them, drying out even the most flamboyant shades to a pitiful homage of their former selves.
Thanks to the onstage performance that night, the only decent light source besides the strobe lights was the bright but hideous lamp hanging above two pool tables, both occupied by an assortment of surly looking teens. The song changed and there was an array of hoots and cheers as the inebriated patrons in the front row told the band’s sexy lead singer just what they thought of her.
Sloan decided it would be best if she kept her eyes down. Most people in a bar like this one weren't the kind who wanted to be recognized. The music was loud enough so you couldn’t eavesdrop on a conversation, but not so loud that you couldn’t have one yourself. She took a seat at a free barstool, the only free stool, next to a wolf with pale blue eyes that were glazed over with alcohol. She wondered what he had seen that was so terrible that he needed to drown it like that. She tried her best to ignore the scraggly looking hawk on her other side. From what she could tell he’d been passed out for hours.
The bartender, a skunk, tall and handsome, came over to her. His well kept fur, painfully noticeable over a ratty, threadbare purple uniform, made him seem awfully out of place.
“What’s yer’ poison?” he asked. His accent told Sloan he hailed from McBeth.
“Aquas Blue,” she answered. It had always been her favourite, and was more of a cooler than hard liquor.
"Seem a little young," the wolf muttered, his voice was hardly slurred at all from his drinking. Maybe his eyes always had that glazed look.
"Come on, bud," the avian next to him said, his voice slurred horribly. He wasn't holding his liquor as well as his partner, avians rarely did. "Leave the kiddalone."
"Man, shut up.”
“Wha’? Man, you shu’ up. I’m sick of your mouth.” He took a swing at his partner, but there was no force in the punch. It landed as a friendly, if heavy handed, pat on the back.
“You know what I’m sick of?”
“Ya’know wha’, I bet yer’ about t’tell me.”
“I am sick, of these dumps. I am sick of shitty hotels, and shitty bars. Just once, I want to know what the good life is like," the wolf growled. Sloan laughed darkly.
"You an' me both, man," Sloan assured him, though not really sure what had brought them to the topic. He stared into the Wolf’s eyes. They were so piercing, she wanted to look away, but looking away would be a sign of insecurity and weakness.
"Yeah?" He laughed too. "Yeah. So, what brings you down to this scummy little hole-in-the-wall anyways?" Sloan reached for the drink that the bartender had just placed at her elbow. She took a long gulp and watched the multi-shade, blue mixture swirl around the glass.
“My freedom. That’s what.”
“From who?” he asked, Sloan’s face hardened.
“You ever heard of the Warden?” The wolf looked at her with eyes that seemed sympathetic, but the look soon disappeared. She was glad. She was sick of sympathy, when in the end no one really did anything.
“Yeah, I’ve heard. You’re a prisoner of Sector Y,” he said. Sloan nodded. He knew all about them. Heck, he had probably hunted a few orphans that had somehow escaped from the Warden’s iron grasp.
The Sector Y Institute for the Parentally Challenged was run by a man called Alex Warren, but everyone knew him as the Warden, although Sloan had seen some of his rats call him “Mr. Warren, Sir.” “Thank you, Mr. Warren, sir. Of course, Mr. Warren, sir.” Sloan had spent her entire life in Sector Y, and now she had decided that she either had to escape him, or die.
“I’m looking for information on Star Wolf. I’m told he’s looking for a new crew member. The job may be my only chance to get free.”
“You’re awful young to hit the cockpit, and a gang of mercenary pirates isn’t the usual job for a kid you’re age. What are you, fifteen, sixteen on the outside?”
“What else can I do? If I just run, Warden’ll use government funds to buy a bounty hunter and get me back. You can’t just run real fast and hope real hard,” Sloan explained, ignoring the question of her age. The wolf looked at her, seeming to wrestle with something inside of him. Finally, he sighed in defeat.
“The first tryout is exactly a week from now and they go for seven days. Be at Sargasso Space station bright and early.” Sloan’s dark brown eyes widened.
“You think…?”
“If you can fly, you have a chance.”
She sat out another hour or two on that barstool, finishing her drink and listening to the casual talk of the two friends. She eventually said goodbye and got up to leave. The wolf grabbed her arm.
“My name is Roe Morgan. If you don’t get in, I may be able to get you into a cockpit. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be work.” Sloan nodded.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a bit of money. If I don’t get picked, Lylat will never see me again,” she said with faux bravery, her run real fast, hope real hard comment still in her ears. She knew if she couldn’t make the cut it was game over.
“damn shame,” the avian muttered into his drink. Roe released Sloan’s arm and gave her once last piece of advice before she left the Bleeding Rose.
“Clean up your slang. Wolf hates that shit.” Sloan nodded her thanks and left. She gazed around at the alleyway she had been deposited in. Like the inside of the bar, it was dark and grimy. Garbage littered the ground. A little ways up the alley to her left. She could hear someone stumbling around. She squinted into the darkness up that way, but saw nothing. Flipping up her collar against the damp breeze blowing in from the nearby sea, she turned to her right and began following the bright lights that would lead her to Corneria City’s main street, and civilized society. It was a place she had never really fit into anyways. She looked carefully around the desolate stretch of road she had emerged at, noticing only a young couple out on a late night stroll and a single car moving down the deserted street. She watched a forsaken plastic cup bounce and roll down the street in the wind before she moved into the blazing light of a streetlamp.
Usually, she didn’t like the light of streetlamps, they made her feel like she was on trial for simply being her, or on display at some kind of freak show for everyone to see and be amazed with. But tonight, she had no choice in the matter. She couldn’t look like she was hiding. She had forgotten to check in with one of the Marshals and she was now about thirty minutes past curfew. She shivered as another icy wind swept down the street, kicking dust into her face. The shiver wasn’t entirely from the cold.
“Funny seeing you here,” snarled a voice from behind her. Somehow, they always managed to come from behind. She whipped around and found herself standing inches away from a dragon. And she was angry.
“Marshal Green!” Sloan said, trying to look and sound surprised and completely stupid. A believable act, since Green thought every child on the station was an idiot. A fatal oversight on her part.
“You are far past curfew, and you didn’t even have the good sense to check in, we were about to send the police out after you!”
So nice to know someone is looking out for my wellbeing. Sloan thought sarcastically.
“I-I can explain, ma’am,” Sloan stammered, fiddling with her jacket and looking down at her well used sneakers, wishing most of her fear was only pretend.
“I’m sure you can, and I’m also sure Mr. Warren will be very interested in hearing it.” Green grabbed her arm and proceeded to half drag her down the street. Struggled to keep up, tripping over herself in an attempt to keep from falling flat on her face.
As she was forcefully taken to the transport that would take her and the others back to Sector Y, she saw a bright red star that, even in all the hours spent stargazing, she had never seen before. It was glowing so bright, she could even pick it out from the red-orange colour of Sector Z. she wondered if maybe it was Sargasso space station, lighting her way to a whole new life, one devoid of Sector Y, and the Warden.