Dead Space, Star Fox 1. Chapter 1

Starfox: Liberation

Introduction

Many long years ago, humanity, led by the Sovereign Colonies was on the verge of collapse, their thirst for power, use of slavery, brutal black ops soldiers, and pillaging of natural resources sparked a cataclysmic rebellion. For forty years civil war raged, claiming the lives of innumerable innocents and tearing the local galaxy apart. But after the war, a new government rose, The UEG. They were dedicated to the restoration of mankind, seeming to bring them back from the brink of extinction. They funded research for countless fields, terraforming, prolonging human life, and planet cracking to name a few.

Planet cracking was what offered receding humanity a second chance. Massive ships, simply called planet crackers, traveled to worlds that could never be terraformed and "cracked" them. They would use powerful lasers to rip chunks out of the planet and then draw them up into space with gravity tethers. From their they could almost effortlessly mine resources from the pieces.

This bought a desperate humanity the time they needed to rebuild. But, it would not be enough to stall their degradation. No, their salvation came from another source, an alien race they discovered in one of their forays into deep space, searching for more dead planets to crack, lylatians. It was they who completed humanities salvation.

The people of Lylat, colloquially called furs, were anthropomorphic reiterations of Terran fauna. They were a peaceful and space fairing race. In the beginning there was a tenuous relation with them and the humans. But, thanks to their racial generosity, the ties between the two species quickly became if not close, at least cordial.

The lylatians gave humanity much needed aid relief and supplies. They became staunch allies in the lonesome blackness of space. In fact, humans, in a surprising show of good will, began to split their gains from planet cracking down the middle with the furs of Lylat. This made public opinion of the humans a good one, causing many Lylatians to move to human space, to interact with the new aliens. Yet, while many furs moved to human territories, little if any humans moved to Lylat. Humans were, while not hostile, some what xenophobic, having a hard time wanting to leave the comfort of their home system and moving to one filled with aliens, even if they were well wishing.

So with a blossoming relationship, of peace and trade between the two factions growing, the galactic scene began to look bright. But as with all good things, they don't last forever.

A darkness brooded on the edge of the galactic stage, one that humanity just may be responsible for creating. For, even in their peaceful state, there will always be those hungering for power, and power corrupts. And what they sought was absolute power, and that my dear readers, corrupts absolutely.


	2. Chapter 2

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 1: Not All Beginnings Are Good Beginnings

Alaric Vladislav was not a good man, he wanted to be, but it would never happen. He was a killer, stolen from his family at birth and trained to be what the Sovereign Colonies desired, a butcher. He was conscripted to lead the fearsome 66th Black-Operations battalion identified as The Hydras's Fangs at the age of fifteen. They were solely responsible for the smothering of fifteen uprisings on humanities capital world of Terra and abroad during the final three years of the revolution. Their reputation was so infamous that even the Lylatians had heard of them, years after the war.

They were forced into finding and slaughtering the family members of the rebel leaders, so that they would crawl out of hiding in a blind rage, where they would be efficiently and ruthlessly gunned down, by the reluctant warriors of the 66th, the most famous of these horrors, which would earn Alaric his loathsome title, occurred on New Athens.

They had killed more people there then they would ever get credit for. The sad fact of it all was that he and his men never wanted to do any of the things they did, but they had been forced to by their battalion supervisors. Some men tried to rebel, resulting in their's and their friend's deaths. To spare them of the evil, Alaric became the monster, so his men never had to. He was the one who killed the families, who did all the dark deeds so that his men would not be burdened by the horror and shame.

Still, for all their forced brutality and unwanted expertise at dealing death, the Sovereign Colonies was overthrown and the UEG rose from the ashes. Yet, while the rest of Alaric's men had been put to death with public executions, despite his pleas for them to take his life instead, they let him live. It wasn't out of kindness, but rather a sick twisted vengeance.

He had been tortured for the last seven years, where people would pay top dollar to beat "The Butcher Of New Athens." And so, in the darkness of a hellish prison on terra, Alaric died, on the inside. The loss of his men and the atrocities he committed ravaging any good left in him. The now embittered and soulless man awaited for it all to end. And that's where the twenty five year old antihero found himself, inside a dark damp swampy hellhole, kilometers underground, in a five by five cell, chained to a wall.

"And THAT is for my brother!" An enraged male voice roared delivering a bone creaking uppercut to the ensnared and bearded Alaric. He could feel his teeth clatter from the force of the blow as his head reeled backwards, spraying blood and sweat. He readjusted his head, and spit bloody saliva onto his tormentors face, and grinned savagely with crimson stained teeth. He was unwilling to give the bastard hitting him anymore satisfaction then he had already smashed out of his body. The man wiped off the bloody spittle and reared back to deliver a mighty blow.

"Enough...we still need him alive!" A guard demanded, although he sounded aloof, and almost regretful of ending the abuse.

The meaty Caucasian blonde looked back to Alaric, and gave him one last hit to the kidney, making him cough up blood,'and walked away. The guard smiled as he opened the cell door and let the man out, there was an exchange of credits before the blonde disappeared down the stone corridor.

Now alone, or at least as alone as one can get in a prison, Alaric could drop the act and slump in his chains. He heard a malicious chuckle as the guard laughed at the man laid low. With the tattered remains of his pride, he turned to the guard and said with a grim satisfaction and feral grin, "tell me sir-laughs-a-lot, would you like to know how many families squealed when I gutted them? Or how much they begged for mercy? Perhaps I even had a go at yours?" He did this not because he enjoyed it, but because he hoped that the guard would knock him into blissful oblivion. So that maybe he could sleep without the nightmares, and get the rest that he had been denied for seven years.

The guard froze mid-chuckle. His face went from a pasty white to a flaming red. He ripped open the cell door and stormed in. He then proceeded to viciously pound the helpless man until his fists were raw and his arms were sore. He would have kept going if not for a commanding voice.

"STAND DOWN!" Instantly, the guard ceased his pummeling and stood to attention to the side, as a short, yet intimidating man in the grey trappings of a General sedately entered the cell, sidestepping pools of congealed and fresh blood with his pristine black boots. "As much as I would like you to finish the job, we have need of him." He turned to the semi-conscious Alaric. "Tell me butcher, how would you like to be pardoned?"

Alaric looked up, his red dyed eyes locked onto the General's pale blue ones. "What would I have to do?" He growled.

Several hours later, clean-shaven and made presentable, he found himself ushered inside a huge room with a semicircular table at the far end. To the left was a massive bay window over looking a sprawling metropolis. He could see skycars flying along the aerial highways as they zoomed around the forest of monolithic skyscrapers. It was amazing what they had accomplished in only seven years after the civil war. If only he had been born on the right side he mused sadly.

Throwing away those petty thoughts he finally noticed that the attendant who had shown him in vanished, leaving him to wait. So wait he did, standing a few feet away from the table. (They had not laid a chair out for him.) He willed the time away by observing the life outside the window, it had been a very long time since he saw the sky. He watched the golden morning air as the people went about their lives, far away from him. Then his eyes fell upon his reflection in the tempered transparent steel.

His raven black hair had been cut with a blade, making for a short and rough look. His face was covered in scars, from particularly high paying "customers" who had been allowed to take a knife to him. And those were only the visible ones, many more lay hidden below the collar of his plain clothes. But perhaps, the most visible irregularity was his eyes, they had painfully changed from their warm blue to the intimidating red that looked back into his scarred face now. He had vague memories of his old eyes, he missed them dearly, for when he looked in the mirror now, the crimson pupils reminded him of the blood he spilt for a corrupt regime all those years ago.

Five minutes later, the doors on the opposite side of the room opened, and three figures walked in to take seats at the broad oaken table. They were the heads of the EUG.

James Ackerman, head of the navy, and the youngest of the three. The Terran born South African man was famous for his brilliant strategic planning, winning the war for the rebels. His reputation for victory was so well known that Alaric had heard of it, even in the prison underground. One of the guards had been a kind soul, speaking with him and actually treating him like a human being, telling the connection starved man what was happening in the outside world. They had not liked that so he was transferred to god knows where.

Sara Parker was leader of the civil offices, and the only colored person on the board. She had been born and raised on the inner colony world of Rylinoth. Alaric did not know much about her besides that. He had heard rumors that she gained her position through blackmail, backstabbing, and piggybacking, but it was not any surprise to him. That is how most politicians ascend to the higher ranks.

Then there was Wallace Masterson, commander of the entire armed forces. He was the oldest individual, at eighty five. But, thanks to the advancements in the medical field, he appeared to be in his late forties. His age gave him a bit of an advantage over his fellows. The man had been raised on Arcadia, an outer colony, where he stood witness to, and truly understood, what atrocities the Sovereign Colonies had committed in their efforts to retain power. If Alaric would have any respect for the three it would be for him, ironic considering that he was the one who had captured him and his men. Wallace was an experienced, and therefore dangerous, individual.

These three were some of the most powerful people in the universe, and they wanted to see him, and he could care less. "Alaric Vladislav, do you know why you are here?" Ackerman demanded.

"No." He grunted, he was unimpressed by the pompous fools sitting before him, he only had respect for Wallace, and it was a grudging one. If they wanted to frighten him, they never would, he was afraid of nothing. All they could do now was kill him, and even that didn't phase him, death would be welcome.

Equally unimpressed, Ackerman resumed talking. "You are here because the UEG requires use of your...specific services." He phrased carefully.

Now that got Alaric's attention. "What could you possibly need a murderer for?"

It was the woman, Parker, who talked now. "We need a deniable asset to head into lylatian space, and investigate a lost...scout ship."

He had heard about these Lylatians, animal people from beyond the stars. He didn't give them much thought, he had more to worry about with all the painful torture and what not. But he did get one thing out of what she said. Alaric scoffed. "Scout? You mean infiltrator."

"We just wanted to look around a planet for something we heard about in a ruin on Talvinoth." She replied defensively.

"Sure, whatever." He grunted. It seemed that governments always devolve back to what they feared to become, cesspits of immorality and greed.

"This is not a debate Alaric!" Wallace shouted slamming a fist onto the table, making it quake. "The last thing we need is moral guidance from The Butcher Of New Athens!" He said the last part with fiery condemnation.

This somewhat subdued the confrontational man, as it revived long suppressed memories, making him tremble. Flashes, of screaming woman and children, the snarl of automatic weapons fire, the wet thud of bullet riddled bodies connecting with the pavement, and roars of his supervisor to "leave none alive". He was thrown back to the present by the loud voice of Wallace.

"ALARIC!" He jumped slightly and turned to look directly at the aged man. "We don't have time for your inane drivel. Do you accept the mission?"

"Why would I?" He retorted angrily, upset that he had appeared weak in front of them, and maybe more so at himself for what he did.

"If you do, your record will be wiped clean and you will be put back into society, and given a pension to live off of." Parker said diplomatically.

Honestly, the deal wasn't half bad, especially considering it was an easy task, recovering some lost spy ship and bringing it back. And, it was infinitely better then being tortured for the rest of his life. "...fine I'll do it." He relented.

"Excellent!" Ackerman said, happy that the mission could start. "You will be provided with a ship, supplies, and equipment, and before you get any ideas about escape, a beacon will be placed in your spine, through your RIG. If you don't report back in two months time, we will consider you an escaped convict and deal with the threat appropriately." He warned grimly.

"Understood." Alaric growled. "What is the name of the ship then?" He asked, ready to leave right then and there.

"Its called the Undying." Wallace replied.


	3. Chapter 3

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 2: Mounting Trepidation

After he accepted their proposal, he had been ushered out of the room and into another. Alaric had no idea what was going on now. And he probably would have continued this way if not for a little help.

The attendant didn't leave him alone this time, the big man was of Slavic descent, much like himself, with a bulky body at least as big as Alaric's own. That was surprising, he had not thought that an attendant would be so well muscled. Most likely, he was a hidden bodyguard for the UEG leaders, and he was there to keep an eye on him.

He also carried a heavy accent with the quite obvious switching of certain words, and the lack of some words altogether. "You pleased to be following me?" The demand sounded more like a question but Alaric let it go, he didn't feel like being rude right now. The man led him along for a few minutes, down corridors and elevators. Every so often one or two people would go by, they would smile and wave in greetings. It was strange, being unrecognized as The Butcher Of New Athens, it was the first time in more then seven years people saw him and didn't scream in fear or snarl in rage.

Yet all it did was remind him of what he did. He felt as though they should recognize him, that surely what he had visibly stained his hands, so that all could know who he was. It was a foolish notion, to think that they all would know his face. With a sigh, he looked to the window as he and the attendant passed it by.

Judging by the view outside, they were slowly but surely heading to the ground floor. When they reached it, Alaric gave it a gander. The front desk was manned by two woman, and the doors to the outside seemed to unceasingly disgorge people either blathering away on communication devices or tapping away hurriedly on holopads. The center of power on Terra was a busy place.

The attendant pointed to a door flanked by a pair of heavy armored soldiers. Their armor was airbrushed with the blue and grey of the 22nd Earth Gov Battalion. "There is your gear, and guide to ship." The attendant enunciated clearly.

Not bothering to say goodbye, he stepped away from the Slavic man and went up to the two guards. The silent sentinels moved to stand rigidly at the sides of the door, rifles clutched in firm gloved hands. These men were the highly trained elite, the ones who guarded the homeworld. Unintimidated, Alaric brushed past them and into the room they presided over.

Inside was a small armory of sorts, having a few racks of weapons and suits of armor. The rest of the space was occupied by a workbench, a vending booth, and a few off-duty soldiers scattered around. As Alaric walked up to the booth he wondered, why they were giving him weapons? Why would he need them? There was more going on then they explained to him. He set that aside when he stopped at the booth and bopped on the button twice, making it emit an annoying bleep. There was a feminine squeak of "just a second!" Under the counter. And then the supplier popped up, and stunned him.

This must be one of the Lylatians, some sort of lioness. The feline stood at a full height of six feet and had no hair, at least not the human type. Instead, her tan fur was short and all encompassing. Her eyes were a odd gold color, and had the natural feline slits. She was also wearing what he supposed the trappings of a quartermaster to be.

He had some knowledge of the UEG, it was just mostly limited to guard talk and the one who had treated him humanely. "Hello...can I help you?" She sounded a little offset by the man standing in front of her. Her...tail...was flicking back and forth nervously and she chewed on the tip of one of her claws from her right paw.

He didn't blame her, he wasn't exactly a normal looking guy. The years had not been kind to him. "I am here for my gear." He rumbled.

"Gear...gear...gear! oh! Of course sir! You must be mister Alaric!" She said coming to the conclusion of who he was. "I was told that you would be coming down here today." She rambled as she walked over to a chest at the far end of the stall and lifted it with a grunt of exertion. The feline woman was strong! That chest must have weighed at least one hundred and fifty pounds, if he were right in assuming its contents, and she lifted it with not too much difficulty and brought it down with bang on the counter. "Here you are sir!" She said exhaling loudly and leaning back. Her tail lazily flopped onto the counter, and twitched.

He was still a little unsettled by her, but made an effort to get used to it. Where he was going, there would be allot of them, and it wouldn't do to blow the mission because of a lack of courtesy. "Thank you...uh...ma'am."

She smiled brightly, flashing needle sharp fangs, causing him to take an involuntary step back. "Your welcome! And you can call me Maggie!" She mrowled sticking a tawny paw out invitingly.

"Uh okay then...Maggie." Alaric replied, grabbing her paw with his left hand and squeezing softly. He felt the warm pliable leathery pads of her palm and paw tips as he shook it. He found the feeling to be...pleasant. "Thanks."

"No prob!" She turned back around and began to rummage through a box, he took it as his que to leave. Alaric picked up the chest, with little to no effort, and walked to one of the tables nearby. He placed it down and slowly opened the lid, having a feeling that he knew what they had given him, and he wasn't wrong.

Inside lay something he had never hoped to see again. The dreaded armor of the Hydra's Fangs, or more specifically, his old suit. But how? How did they get this? And why did they keep it? That's when he figured it out, they wanted him to see it, to have to use it again. The armor he wore when he claimed untold lives in the name of a despotic regime.

It was a twisted form of irony, having one of the men responsible for defending an evil government, help its successors. With a reluctant sigh, he took the armor out of the chest and tossed it onto the table. It made an ominous bang that silenced the room. The soldiers in the room turned to the noise and their expressions went from curious to hostile. Some of these men had been around during the war, they had heard of him and his shameful deeds. Even the female lioness looked mortified that she had been talking with the butcher she had heard so much about from her human friends. He sighed at all their gazes, a man like him would never have friends.

Ignoring the scathing looks, he laid out the suit and found himself hesitantly touching the patch on the shoulder that signified all he despised. A three headed black hydra backed by flames with the number 66 stenciled underneath it, stared back damningly. He never wanted to see it again, but now it seemed not only would he be seeing it, but he would also be wearing it.

With a grimace he stripped down to his underclothes uncaring of the onlookers. What he didn't know was that their angry glances quickly turned into piteous ones, and even a gasp from the lioness.

He was not lying when he thought that years had been unkind.

In fact, he was underselling it. His muscular body once could have been considered appealing, if not for the grisly tapestry of scars. This was due to his years in the civil war and the rich clientele of the prison's warden. That was something that the regular populace never knew, it would have been considered criminal to do to a man, even for one such as he. In fact there were laws against such treatment, ironically, enacted by the UEG. Yet, in the dark pits of an underground prison, allot of things can be forgotten or simply ignored.

Alaric took a few minutes to adorn the vile plate armor, sliding into the pleated inner layer, adjusting the straps and tightening loose plates. It was designed for intimidation as much as it was for use. The deep black plates seemed to hold a certain impending malevolence. The helmet was even more frighting, so he let it be for now. He was in no hurry to see the dreaded visage.

Once he was kitted-out, he took a moment to get a feel for his old armor, as loath as he was to admit it, it was a seriously strong piece of hardware. It was made of steel infused with titanium and thick pseudo muscle strands, making it extremely durable and enhancing his already powerful body. As he finished tugging the left gauntlet on for a tight fit, he saw something gleam in the darkness of the chest. He grabbed the hilt of the item and brought it into the light.

It was the weapon that had really earned him his title. It was a GRENDAL ARMS energy blade. At the push of a button, the inner metal slats would unfold to its 36in length. Then the core inside the hilt would coat both sides of the blade in superheated blue plasmatic energy, making it hot enough to cleave through steel, flesh, and bone.

He shuddered at the memories of what he had done with the blade, and if it were up to him he would have destroyed it. But it seems that it was one of the weapons they gave him to use. He attached it to the clip on his waist designed to carry that weapon specifically, and checked the chest for any more items. Finding none, he sealed it back up.

After that unwelcome blast from the past, he plodded over to a rack and grabbed one of the guns. It was a standard pulse rifle, slightly different then the ones he used years ago. He looked it over, grabbed ammo off the wall, and went over to the table he had claimed for his own. As he went over his equipment, he started to brood.

All he wanted was to find a quite place and fade of the radar, a place where he could be happy, a place where he could have the life that had been taken and warped by the previous dictatorship. He would probably never get the chance, even though he took the deal from the UEG, they would never hold their promise. It was a fools hope to think that they would, but he hoped anyways, because hope was all he had left. He felt a bitter burning in his eyes and realized he was crying. How pathetic he must look, he wiped his eyes of the tears and focused on getting ready.

"Excuse me...mister Alaric?" He looked up from checking over his rifle to see the feline clerk, quartermaster, or whatever the hell she was, standing in front of him, nervously shuffling back and forth. She held onto her tail, clutching it to her chest with fiddling paws.

"What do you want?" His voice was thick with conflicting emotions as he tried to lock them down.

"I was tasked with getting you to your ship." Maggie replied quietly. She was confused, the Butcher Of New Athens was nothing like her friends had told her. They depicted him as a monstrous titanic demon, with no emotion and a brutal disposition. Yet, what she saw was a broken, tortured and scarred man.

The man grunted noncommittally, placed the rifle he holding on his back, and stood up to his full height. His already intimidating stature was compounded by his reputation, making her meep involuntarily. She gathered up her courage and led him out of the room. Taking a side door, they entered a deserted hallway. As she walked with her new infamous companion, she found herself briefly looking back to him several times.

He had a dangerous aura about him, but also one that triggered her sympathy. She had heard of how he and his men were unwilling participants of the war. Those truths were somewhat subdued by the new government, and so she had only heard of it from second and even thirdhand sources. She had always been interested in learning about the Hydra's Fangs since she first arrived in human space. Maggie felt a need to figure out why they did what they did, and now was probably the only time she would get the chance to get the truth firsthand.

"Uh...Mister Alaric sir?" She asked anxiously.

"What?" She heard him grunt from his place behind her.

"Uh...why...did...you do what you..uh...did?" She finished lamely.

She heard him sigh heavily and the tread of his armored boots come to a halt, worried that she had angered him, she mewled and turned around. But when she saw him, he wasn't angry, he just looked...depressed. "Why do you want to know? You wouldn't even believe me anyways." He muttered sadly.

"I heard that you and your men were conscripted and that you did what you did because you had to." She replied, she was chewing on the tip of her tail now, a habit that had pursued her since her days as a cub on her home planet of Katina.

"That is true, but what does it matter now? I still killed those people, if I had been a real man, I would have refused the orders given to me!" He snarled at her.

But Maggie wasn't scared, she knew he was more angry with himself then with her. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. "But wouldn't your men have suffered with you?"

One of the biggest rumors about them was that Alaric had done all the worst of the killing, some people said it was because he was just a sadistic bastard. Others argued that it was because he wanted to spare his men from the terrible deeds.

"...yes." He said quietly. He did not like talking about the unforgivable things he had done. And here he was now, spilling his guts to some random lylatian woman. "Although...sometimes, I think it would have been better if we had all just died."

Maggie had a feeling that he would not say more so she resumed guiding him. Ten tense minutes later, they stopped at the small hanger underneath the governmental building. This is where he was supposed to be. "Here you are mister Alaric, the hanger."

"Please, just call me Alaric." He said, making her turn to face him. He had an almost undetectable smile as he held one of his gauntlets out to her. The first one she had seen on him since they met. "You have been the first person in seven years to talk with me like a human being." He chuckled at the irony, yet it was a warm and friendly one. "Thank you."

She grasped his out stretched hand with her right paw, the contact sent shivers down her spine. "No thanks needed, Lylatians are of a more friendlier breed then humans, no offense."

"None taken, may your days he happy ones Maggie." He rumbled, and turned to walk away, heading to the organized chaos of the hanger bay. He had been so fast that she had not had the chance to say goodbye, the female feline felt a tinge of regret but brushed it off. She left the hanger and headed back to her booth. The work day was for from over.

Yet, when she would later find herself back in the small apartment she rented, Maggie would think back to the man she had met.

Alaric left without letting the cat woman say goodbye. He was not one for other people's farewells. He entered the hanger bay, and looked for the leading mechanic, all he had to do was follow the yelling.

"You think that it will fly like that huh? WELL IT BLOODY WELL WON'T!" He found the wrathful red haired man shouting at a few unlucky underlings standing around an Aurora strike craft. He was giving them one hell of a dressing down, but stopped, (much to their relief), when he noticed Alaric walking over. "I'm not done with you yet lads!" He muttered and went to meet him halfway. "What can I do for you...butcher?" He added the last part with a hint of disdain.

"I'm here for my ship." He growled back.

"Well then let's go. The sooner I get your sodding carcass out of my hanger the better." The man replied pointedly and motioned for him to follow.

Alaric snarled when he heard that but did not do anything about it. He wanted to get away from the bastard and kicking his ass would only prolong his departure. Alaric went after the man, sidestepping busy workers and load bearing vehicles. Their path soon led to a massive dilapidated old freighter, it looked like it belonged in the scrapyard.

"Here she is, the The Serpents Lair, she's a grand old ship isn't she? Has a fitting name too." His voice was mocking and he had a villainous smile.

"She's a piece of shit." Alaric grunted angrily.

"Yeah well, I wanted to get a ship that suited its owner." The red haired man said, his smile turning into a sadistic grin.

Alaric growled and closed his armored hands into fists, the urge to murder the man was becoming almost uncontrollable. But with a supreme strength of will he pushed the kill-urge back down and replied coldly. "You know what they say, shoddy ships, come from shoddy men."

The man's smile fell, turning into grimace. "Just get the hell out of my hanger." He grunted dismissively and walked away, ignoring the obvious insult.

Alaric let him go and walked to the ramp that would lead him up into the ship, and his chance at redemption.


	4. Chapter 4

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 3: Reflections

Alaric gave a good look as he walked into the ship he would be spending the next few months in. It was a Asimov heavy freighter, they were incredibly hardy ships. That's probably why it was not a pile of scrap even though it had most likely been neglected since before the end of the civil war. Asimov freighters sported a strange design. They had a smooth winged profile, the main body of the ship rectangularly coming to a flat edged point at the tip. Yet the once proud ship did not compare to its older glory days. The color of the hull could not even be seen under all the rust. He thought that if he was unimpressed by the outside, he was undoubtedly going to be equally unimpressed by the interior. This was a correct assumption.

The inside of the ship was a disaster. Most of the bare steel panels were either hanging loosely off their mounting, or missing entirely. Wires hung from broken ceiling slats and three quarters of the light fixtures were broken, and the other quarter only shone dimly. The once clean silver steel walls were a dull grey, there luster having faded over the no doubt many long years of disuse. The vessel also had a dank, musty odor about it, most likely due to Its decay and neglect. He had his doubts wether or not it would even get off the ground.

Hopefully it would, he didn't fancy staying any longer on this shitty world then he had to. So, with difficultly, he headed towards the bridge. It was hard to get there, considering he had to change routs when he found a jammed door or wreckage blocking his path. But with considerable effort he finally arrived at the trashed command center.

It was the least damaged portion of the ship, and that wasn't saying much. Only half of the lights did not work and a few panels were out of alignment. A few of the chairs had completely disappeared, probably the work of scavengers, and on top of it all some of the screens were cracked. But if he was to be thankful for anything, it would be that the main console were untouched and that he could probably fly the ship.

Alaric sat down at the captains chair, and with a groan of deteriorated and rusted metal, fell on his armored ass as it broke. "Son of a bitch!" He growled as he picked himself up off the floor, dusting his plated thighs. They had almost immediately been coated in a thin layer of ancient dust that had been flung into the musty air. "Damn thing is falling apart." Muttering, he started the ships's engines, standing up. Alaric could feel the deck plating begin to vibrate under his thick soled boots. The photon infused plasma turbines began to spool up, sending a barely perceptible constant and relaxing hum throughout the ship. Alaric could detect a ever so subtle hiccup in the noise. He counted himself lucky that he could even pilot the ship, one thing the Sovereign Colonies did do for him was give him training in many fields, flight being one of them.

With practiced ease, he ran a diagnostic on the ships's engines and hull integrity. Deft fingers began to bring up displays on the cracked monitors. The readings were not great, the engines were practically falling apart and the hull was two steps from splintering. Still, it was capable of flight, although it would probably not last very long. He would have to stop at a planet and get some supplies to fix it up. Luckily, he had received some funds for the mission, (the credits had been transferred to an account they set up for him), not enough to do anything serious, but enough to do a little work on the ship and buy some other essential supplies.

As he wracked his brain to try to find a place to go, he thought back to the last few minutes of his "interview" with the leaders of the UEG.

"Where is the Undying?" Alaric asked Ackerman. If he wanted to earn his freedom, he would need to know where the ship was!

"Last transmission pinpoints it at the edge of the Katinian gravity well. I must give you a few words of caution. If any Lylatians you meet on your travel ask about it, its cover story is that of a scientific research team, scanning solar debris at the edge of the system."

"Pretty flimsy cover." Alaric snorted derisively with a roll of his crimson eyes.

"Yes well Lylatians can be foolishly trusting, their government believed the story whole heartedly." Parker replied with a flash of condemnation on her face, clearly she did not have a flattering view of this alien collective.

He looked to her and gave her a death glare, monster he may be, he still disapproved of humanities need to feel superior. "Foolish to you maybe." He muttered with a small growl.

"This is all irrelevant, the important think to remember is to not blow your's or the ship's cover!" Wallace exclaimed, driving the talks back to their original goal.

"Sure old man." Alaric grunted noncommittally.

Wallace just sighed and and rubbed his eyes in annoyance. "Moving on, when you arrive at its last known location, find it, fix whatever problem had surfaced, and report in, can you do that?"

"Already done." Alaric said confidently.

"Good, oh and considering your...absence from the galaxy for the last seven years, the ship given to you will have updated star charts, try not to get lost, dismissed." Ackerman said and waved him away loftily.

So with Katinia as his final destination, he plotted a course for the closest Lylatian controlled world, a planet called Fortuna. Here was the beginning of his journey, Alaric only hoped that it would be a simple and easy one. He just wanted to earn his freedom, go to some peaceful world, settle down alone, and die in his sleep at a nice old age.

With the course laid in, he stood at the controls and began to guide the ship out of the hanger. With the stuttering of corroded engines, The Serpents Lair rose from its decades of reluctant slumber and hovered in the air. Alaric looked out the viewport and watched as the roof of the hanger opened to reveal the afternoon sky, with a small amount of hope, he gunned the old engines and piloted the dilapidated freighter into the stars.

With the course set for the nearest shock point beacon, Alaric took a look around the bridge of the ship he would be using. He sighed heavily, the vessel was more of a space fairing piece of scrap then an actual spaceship. Still, since he had nothing better to do until he reached the beacon, which was several hours away, he cleaned up the bridge. It was a dirty, sweaty, and thankless task. Yet, by the time he arrived at the beacon, it looked somewhat presentable.

He keyed in the information given to him by the UEG, and headed for the Shockring. The massive circular device was several kilometers wide, allowing for all manners of ships to travers through shockspace. It began to glow with a bright pulsing blue aura as it cycled up to its active state. The ring began to spin as the energies reached their peak and when it did, Alaric took The Serpents Lair through.

The bridge viewport was covered in a contorting sapphire bubble signifying that the ship was in shockspace. Now that he no longer had to manually control his vessel, Alaric once more began the process of tidying up the junkyard's worth of stuff aboard the ship. First thing he did was reattach all the panels that had either been hanging loose or fallen off completely. (He had dredged up some tools from a drawer in the engine room to help him fix things up, ironically they were in almost as bad a condition as the ship.) Once he had done that in the vicinity of the bride he sought about getting the crazy wire situation under control. He used what little knowledge of maintenance bestowed upon him by his harsh life under the Sovereign Colonies to put them back where they belonged or just simply removing them altogether if they were to corroded to use. By the time he had been alerted by one of the few still functioning systems that he was halfway to his destination the ship began to look almost as if it was a pile of crap and not a mountain of crap.

With a tired exhalation, Alaric wiped his sweaty scarred brow and fell down to the floor with a dull thud in exhaustion. Even as tired as he was, he found himself to be happy, working in the ship was therapeutic. It was almost as if he and the ship were similar, both having been left to rot after the collapse of the old government, both given a second chance at life. He imagined that all the work he did to fix it helped to heal the deep old emotional wounds he harbored inside his tortured body and soul.

With those thoughts swimming through his head, he stood back up from the deck and went in search of the captains quarters. It took a bit of looking and the removal of a pile of useless materials, but he found it. When the door slid open and he entered, flicking on the lights, he was surprised it wasn't a dump. Sure it was musty and barren, but it didn't have trash or anything inside. It was relatively clean compared to the condition of the rest of the ship.

The room had a proportional oak desk, what appeared to be a small lavatory, a large comfortable looking cot, a closet, a cabinet, and a board to hang things on. The cabin walls had a startlingly clean dark grey finish, and the ceiling held working lights that have the room a homey feel. All in all it was a pleasant room.

So thankful for that small mercy, Alaric took a few minutes to shed the heavy armor off, leaving him in his underclothes, and collapsed on the cot. It groaned softly under his bulk. The only downside to it was that it didn't have a pillow, but compared to seven years of being chained to a wall, it was heavenly. He savored the feel of a real bed underneath him, he almost started to cry at having such a simple commodity to himself. He clamped down on his emotions, he would need to steel himself for the tasks at hand, and faded off into blissful sleep for the first time in a long time. But as all good things, it did not last.

Alaric woke up, disorientated, and looked around in confusion. This was not the cabin of his ship, this was a bunker, a very unsettlingly familiar bunker. He got off the military cot and groaned.

He heard a pair of panicked boots as they rushed over to him. "Commander Alaric!" He looked over to see a face he thought never to see again. Jeremy, one of the many youngster that he led in the final years of the war. The frail bald headed African descendant was looking back at him with worried brown eyes. "The rebels are overrunning the south eastern entrance!" He was wearing the armor of the Hydra's Fangs.

"Jeremy, what's...what?" He mumbled in confusion as he tried to understand what was going on, if memory served, this was the last battle he had fought in before his imprisonment, what was he doing here?

"No time for jokes sir, your men need you!" Jeremy implored, tugging Alaric to the door at the end of the row of bunks.

"What, this is all wrong, this already happened!" He said in alarm, finally having gained back his faculties fully.

"Sir? What are you talking about? The battles only jut started. It is no matter, let's go, your needed at the front line!" Jeremy herded the befuddled Alaric through a series of concrete corridors filled with busy men in the regalia of the 66th, running back and forth down the many hallways. The entire time, Alaric's mind was a maelstrom of confused thoughts. What was he doing back here? Was it possible that the last seven years had been a terrible nightmare? He wasn't sure, but it didn't matter right then, his men needed him, and would rather die then abandon them.

As they ran, the sounds of a blistering firefight assaulted his ears. They rounded a bloodstained corner to take in the horrible sight before him. The giant steel doors to the outside of the bunker had been blown wide open and a squad of blue and grey armored soldiers were taking cover in the rubble and corpses, and firing into the hallway. On the opposite side crouched his men, the black armored warriors had taken a table, laid it on its side, and retaliated with zealous abandon, blazing away at the enemy with their pulse weapons. As ferociously as they fought, things weren't looking good for them, already, half a dozen of his men lay motionless on the floor, leaking their life giving fluid out of the numerous holes in their perforated black armor and onto the cold unforgiving stone.

Seeing the fallen bodies of his own enraged Alaric, he ran into the battle and unslung his old rifle, loosing off a deluge of withering pulse rounds making the now pinned down invaders dive for cover. Unsatisfied with the results, he stashed his rifle away and activated his sword, it assembled out of the hilt and activated with a snap-hiss of deadly energy. With a roar of crackling plasma and his own voice, he bull rushed the hunkered down soldiers. He was among them before they could react to his charge. The most courages of the attackers, wearing the insignia of a sergeant moved to smash Alaric in the face with the stock of his rifle. It was a foolish move, and the consequence of the action was the loss of his life, and his head. Alaric leaned back, making the man's swing go wide, using the opening, he stabbed the energized blade into the neck-guard of the rebel's armor, pulverizing the thick steel and burying it up to the hilt in the vulnerable throat underneath, and then he ripped it back out. With a gurgling rasp, the man reached for the wound to try and stem the flow with now shaking gauntlets. Ruthlessly, Alaric drew his sword back and swung it in a violent arc. The blade decapitated the man, and removed his hands in the process. The deceased headless and handless body fell to the door with the clatter of uncontrolled armor and bright crimson arterial spray, that coated Alaric and the walls in blood. From engagement to neutralization, seven seconds had passed.

Not wanting to lose his momentum, Alaric stepped over the body of his first victim and sliced into the next. The unprepared soldier was gutted from one side of the waist to the other. The searing hot blue blade melted right through the weaker armor of the poor individual before him. The lad cried out in pain and attempted to hold his intestines in his body. Feeling merciful, Alaric stabbed his sword through the man's heart, killing him swiftly. As the body fell off the blade he felt a dozen small and forceful impacts on his side, scratching the heavily modified armor and bruising his ribs. One of the rebels had the gall to shoot him!

Alaric shrugged off the pain and rolled to meet his adversary, the man flinched and tried to evade. The flinch damned him though as Alaric went under his guard and delivered a horrible sword plunge into the unfortunate rebel's kidney, the energy blade liquefying his innards. He heard the man's howl of pain as he collapsed from the mortal wound. Assured that he was down for the count, Alaric leaped to the last one, who was visibly trembling, as he fell to his knees in surrender. Alaric halted the fatal drop of his blade, an inch over the helmet of the quaking rebel, the blade hummed with the potential for death.

He would not kill if he didn't have to, and with no supervisor around, there would be no one to enforce the penalty. Before anything could be done with the prisoner, a trio of cylindrical flashing canisters tumbled in from the breached bunker entrance and came to a rolling stop at his boots. Both he and the prisoner locked gazes at the realization, red eyes to blue visor.

"GRENADES!"

One of his men shouted too little too late. A blinding flash, and the feeling of his chestplate, and ribs cracking under the force of the detonation was all he could grasp as his body was flung violently in the air. He hit the far wall with the painfully loud snap of his leg bones shattering and his spine going numb.

Minutes later he regained consciousness, propped up on a wall, to the trickle of blood flowing from his sliced up brow. He could feel the molten shards of shrapnel in the sundered flesh of his face. The wounds would leave a scar that would persist throughout his life, however short it may be.

He could hear voices talking incoherently, as if he were deep underwater. "...ake the survivors, le...em stand trial." He looked to the progenitor of the voice and saw a heavily ornate suit of armor, with an ID that had WALLACE stenciled on the gilded cuirass. "...s still awake...ck him out." Another soldier entered his filed of view. He brought the stock of his weapon up and smashed it down on Alaric's head.

He awoke to find himself wrapped up in the sheets of the cot and on the floor covered in a cold sweat. He untangled himself from the sheets and stumbled into the bathroom. With haggard red pupils he examined his sorry state. His muscular torso was heavily scarred, although he had no fresh wounds. He brought a quavering hand to the scars along his face, tracing the most prominent jagged tissue that went from his left eyebrow, all the way down to the right side of his chin. That dream had been the most vivid one in years, it had seemed so real! He saw the scar from that day and almost expected it to still be bleeding.

He turned the faucet to get some water to wash his face, but nothing came out. It only just came to his nightmare fried mind that he had no supplies for the ship, not even water. With a sigh he turned the faucet off and left the bathroom.

With reluctance he adorned himself in his armor once more and left the cabin. He would not feel like sleeping for a very long time to come. It only took him a few minutes to get to the bridge, and when he arrived the sight outside his viewport told him all he needed to know. He was at Fortuna. The ship must have made it while he was sleeping. He had no idea how long he had been just floating there.

All that was left was to bring it in, get it fixed up, pick up some supplies, and prepare to head back out. Maybe he would take some time to relax, it had been seven years since he had the chance to. After all, it should take no more then a week to find and get the Undying back. As he flew The Serpents Lair down to the planet, he considered the option even more. It had merit, especially considering it would take at least a few days to patch up the ship and load up on much needed material such as food, water, and the various other things the UEG had neglected to provide. Sure they gave him weapons and armor and such, but they didn't give him anything he would need in deep space, a serious oversight if he had anything to say about it.

"This is Fortuna Starport control tower, please state the nature of your business." A friendly but firm male voice chattered over the thankfully working ship's comm.

"This is Alaric Vladislav of the UEG Serpents Lair, I am requesting the chance to land and get some much needed supplies and mechanical expertise." He replied politely, unwilling to upset the ones who would decide wether or not he could do what he set out to do.

"...your request has been processed and accepted, please allow the control tower to take over navigation and guide you in." The voice answered after a few moments.

"Thank you and copy that, transferring control over now." Alaric flicked a few switches and the flight down suddenly became smoother and easier. As he exited the cloud layer, he got a fantastic view of the first lylatian planet he ever saw.

The planet was a vibrant tropical paradise, with big swathes of sparkling blue oceans and deep green inlands. Now that he saw it, Alaric guessed that it was a resort world, and a beautiful one at that. He began to think that spending a few days he was not so bad, and besides, he needed to get his ship up to scratch.

He neared the settled portion of the world and saw the city and starport. The city was a huge sweeping area of towers and little residential homes, yet they didn't destroy the ecosystem, rather it was built with it in mind. Trees and forests were inlaid with the urban sprawl to make a Eco friendly, yet industrious metropolis. It was a wonderful thing to see for a man deprived of nature's beauty for years. It was just as grand as the starport.

The port had a massive strip for landing and servicing the many ships that came to the planet. Yet it also was surrounded by a healthy leafy green forest that seemed not to interfere with the day to day operations of the busy workers.

Over all, this was the most beautiful and wondrous planet he had ever laid eyes on. As his ship came to land at the port, he drank in the view one last time before going to the captains cabin. A thought had just popped in his head. He walked in and looked in the mirror, wearing the armor would probably not be a great idea, even if no one here knew who he was, it was still intimidating and unfriendly. In desperation he looked in the closer for clothes and was amazed to find a single outfit, out of the many ones that were either ruined or small, that fit him. Granted it was a mite dusty, musty, and old, but a little fresh air should fix that right up. He went in the bathroom and switched into the civi clothes.

Alaric was now sporting a black t-shirt and a pair of black dress slacks, they were a tight fit, making his muscular disposition shine through, but they were the only pair that adjusted somewhat well to his physique so he let it be. He also didn't have any shoes so he just took the boots off his armor and wore them. He looked like a PMC, that was fine with him though. All that was left was to get the belt off his armor, buckle it on, and attach his sword hilt to it. That way he would at least have some sort of defense in case of emergencies. He was pretty sure they would frown on taking an assault rifle out into the general populace.

Now ready to step outside, he headed down to the exit ramp at the back of the ship and pressed the button. It began to slowly descend to the tarmac, lighting up the empty bay. Once it hit the ground he thudded down, his armored boots clanking against the thin metal. He had work to do, and maybe some time to relax, and he wasn't going to waste it.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey guys, it has been quite some time since I worked on this story, but i updated it a little bit and I plan on releasing the next chapter very soon. I have worked on it and it is done. I do not want to sound childish, but I would like to hear some feedback for this and my other stories, I do this for myself, but mostly for you guys. I get enjoyment mostly from hearing that you enjoyed it. So please take that into consideration my friends.**

**Drake**

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 4: Chance Meetings

Alaric strode down the ramp onto the sun broiled black tarmac with purpose, his plated boots thumping from the grated metal and onto the sticky pavement. Outside his rusting ship stood a couple of Lylatians. The one standing in front was a male dog of a species he couldn't recognize. The dog had a shaggy light grey coat, blue eyes, and was wearing a white and blue jumpsuit that fit his form snuggly. He had the look of youth about him, eyes burning with the exuberance of the inexperienced. He was fidgety and had an excited expression on his muzzle.

His two aides on the other hand were not dogs, but a pair of young ginger female felines, sporting the same level of excitement on their narrow orange muzzles as the canine, and wearing the same type of clothing. When Alaric stepped off the ramp the dog's face lit up like a fireworks display and he rushed over to the startled human excitedly. "Wow! A human, you guys are a rare sight out here!" The dog yapped happily, his long smokey tail wagged back and forth with glee. The female cats stared at Alaric with awed green eyes, they looked allot like twins. As they got closer, he noticed that all of them were quite shorter than himself.

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Not sure how to respond to all the positive energy he had been assailed with, he replied awkwardly, unconsciously rubbing the back of his head with a bare hand. "Yes, well...uh, I guess we are."

"You look so strange, and what happened to your face?" The cat on the left asked boldly and suddenly. Shortly after, receiving a tail flick to the nose by who could only be her sister, in response to the tactless and straightforward remark.

"Hush now Cassie, can't you see that's insensitive!" She scolded quietly. The reprimanded feline cringed and sniffled sadly.

Alaric hated it when women were sad or cried, even furry alien ones. "It's okay, I don't mind." He said conciliatorily to the upset cat and her sister, hoping to smooth things over.

They both looked thankfully at him, happy that no offense was taken by the large human. "Sorry about that, my sister can be a little direct at times, the names Jana." The other now identified feline added with a friendly smirk.

"As I said before, it truly is no problem, and people call me Alaric." He replied with a bow of his head in greeting.

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The dog who had been watching the exchange of pleasantries used this chance to introduce himself. "My mom and dad call me Collin, but my friends call me cole!" He announced helpfully with a wide grin, displaying a sharp row of gleaming white canines, and stuck his paw out, welcomingly.

"Nice to meet you Collin." After shaking the paw, Alaric got down to business. "I came here hoping that I could get my...ship fixed up and grab some necessary supplies. Can you do that?" He only hoped that their prices wouldn't be too steep and that he could afford to purchase what he needed.

The dog turned thoughtful, crossing his rolled up sleeved, grey furred arms, and stroking his muzzle with his left paw. "Yes I see, your ship could...use a little bit of work." He tried to say the obvious without coming off as harsh.

"Yeah, it's a piece of junk, but it was free, I got it from a friend." Alaric said in agreement, sticking to his cover story, but internally scoffing at the irony. "How much would it cost to fix it up and get some supplies?" He mentally cringed waiting for the blow to land.

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"What do you think Jana?" Collin asked turning to her for her opinion.

The cat woman appeared to dislike being under the spotlight, (at least that's what the position of her triangular ears depicted, if Alaric understood feline facial expressions), but answered all the same. "It could go anywhere from...ten to fifteen thousand credits." She told the dog after pausing a moment, going through the mental calculations. That was more then half of his allotted funds!

Collin hummed in response and turned back to the human. "Well, you could either pay that, or do something else for us." He stated.

Cautious of what the other thing was, he asked. "What is the other option?"

"You could take a few pictures with us! Otherwise my friends and family would never believe that I met a real life human." The canine suggested hopefully. The two identical feline girls nodded, liking the idea too.

Alaric almost fell over, that's it? That's what they wanted? Pictures? "Why?" He asked in disbelief.

"You seem like a pretty okay guy and I want to really get a picture with you." Collin said simply.

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"Can you do that?"

"Sure we can, it's not that big a deal around here." The canine shrugged off nonchalantly. "Not much else for the engineers and mechanic to do around here anyways. They could use the practice."

Inside, Alaric shook his head in amazement, these Lylatians were something else, they did not act like any humans Alaric had ever interacted with. Any other human would have probably want him to pay the price, or the conniving ones would try to rip him off. And here they were, willing to fix his ship for the price of a simple photo shoot. "Sure, I could agree to that." He chuckled ruefully, for the first time in a long time. Little did he know that his life would soon be full of these first in a long time moments.

Ecstatic, the canine took out some sort of tiny rectangular gadget out of the of the jumpsuit's pockets that could only be a camera, and motioned for Alaric to come on over. Somewhat hesitant he complied, moving to stand next to the lively dog. He was taken a little by surprise when the dog leaned on him, shortly follows by Cassie and Jana. (He could feel their tails as they bounced off his legs.) They all pushed together to get into the photo. The feeling of all the warm fur was soothing, even under the harsh afternoon sun of the tropical world. Alaric found that he was smiling subconsciously when he heard the clack of the shutter several times, signifying that the pictures had been taken.

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"There! All done!" Collin barked, stepping away from Alaric. The dog smiled as he looked up to the human's face. "Thanks for the pics!"

"No, thank you for the free repair work!" He chuckled, the human really was grateful, truly these Lylatians were of a different sort, friendly and helpful. They were much more pleasant to be around then most other human he had interacted with. But then again he thought darkly, he wasn't exactly walking around with the best humanity had to offer during the civil war. "I appreciate it."

"It's no big deal, it's good to help others. That's what my dad always told me." Collin replied with a sage look.

Alaric frowned slightly at that, he never had a father, or mother for that matter. It was a little painful to hear about it from others, reminding him of all he had missed out on, due to the sinister machinations of the SC.

One of the twins noticed his expression, Cassie, if he could tell them apart correctly, and asked about it with a voice full of concern. "Are you okay, did what he say bother you?" The canine looked to Alaric and saw his expression as well.

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"In fine, it's no fault of any of you. It's just that I never knew my family." He answered somewhat quietly.

The three Lylatians frowned with sympathy and hugged him. He was once more caught by surprise by the kindness and compassion they seemed to possess as a racial trait. "I'm sorry to hear that, it must have been terrible to not have a family." Jana said giving him a powerful squeeze.

He didn't know what to say, so he just hesitantly hugged them back until they pulled away. "Say, how long are you gonna be staying here on Fortuna?" Collin asked out of the blue with a expression that could only be called contemplative.

"Maybe a few days." Aric replied distractedly, still processing the friendly hug he received.

"Hmmm...why don't you come with us tomorrow for a tour of the town?" The canine suggested. "We could show you the sights and it would be a fun time!"

Alaric took a minute to debate with himself. He had a mission to do. Should he just delay it to spend time with a bunch of furs?

"Oh please do! I think it would be great for us all to get to know each other better!" Cassie added hoping to convince the interesting human to spend some time with them. She rather liked him, it was something about his presence.

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He observed all the expectant muzzles staring at him, giving him the most pleading wide eyes he had ever seen, and came to a decision. "I suppose I could take a day to explore."

The twins jumped up excitedly and meowed, ginger tails victoriously swinging. "Great!" They shouted in unison.

"Good to hear Alaric, I'll contact you later to set it up." Collin said with a beaming grin, happy that the human had agreed to go. Now he could show him to all his friends and they would have to believe him.

After exchanging information and locking up the ship, he bid his goodbyes to the trio and walked to the entrance to the spaceport, (making sure he had his issued communicator and credits). He looked back one last time and waved to them, it was a little out of character for him, but he felt a good vibe from those furs. They were genuinely nice to him, not to mention he thought the two feline women were pretty cute in their own way.

Now that he was off the ship, he tried to figure out what to do first. He could order the supplies and have them sent over, or he could go get a long desired drink. Supplies could wait he concluded and entered the starport terminal. It was the only way to get into the city proper.

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The huge terminal was brimming with thousands of Lylatians leaving and arriving on Fortuna. The variety of species was breathtaking. There were dozens of dog and cat breeds not to mention a few avian ones as well. Alongside them all were a few exotic ones he had not thought there to be, panthers, leopards, bears, badgers, what looked like coyotes, and even a few red pandas. He could almost get lost in the crowd if not for his considerable musculature and height. That was one thing he noticed about Lylatians, they were naturally shorter than humans. Sure he was taller than most, but comparing them to people he had met, there was a distinct difference.

As he looked for someone who could give him directions, he noticed that fairly large portions of the Lylatians were staring at him. He didn't blame them; humans were a rare occurrence outside their home system from what he grasped from the talks he had observed back on Terra. All Lylatians had heard of humans, but for many it was probably the first time any had seen one in person. Although, the gazes were magnified, no doubt directly resulting from his scarred visage. It didn't take a genius to puzzle out he was a veteran of many battles, or someone who was very accident prone. Yet his fearsome demeanor offered an obvious answer between the two parallels.

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He spied out the information desk situated at the far end of the terminal, by the exit doors to be precise. With his target in sight, he headed over, wading through the busy crowd of fur and feathers. At the desk was a leopard female and a male fox in the clothing of clerks. The duo watched the human approach with interested eyes. "What can we do for you sir?" The fox asked politely, yet his eyes roved Alaric's face, staring at the scars specifically. The leopardess was looking none too openly as well.

"Yes, I was wondering where I could find the best bar in town?" He rumbled in reply. He was not bothered by the looks from the fox and leopardess; he had long ago come to terms with his altered facial features.

"Ah yes, I believe that The Devils Folly was rated number one." The fox said as he typed away on a white pencil thin keyboard with nimble black socked paws, staring at the glowing equally thin monitor.

"Great, do you think you could get me the directions?" Alaric wondered, looking around the starport as he asked. He couldn't get enough of the sights before him.

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"Sure can do sir. Just slid your wrist device over here real quick and I'll have my associate here get the directions downloaded in an instant." Alaric moved his arm over the counter and the leopardess swiped a little blue gadget connected to the monitor over it. After a moment it beeped loudly. "There you go sir, your all set. Would you like me to call up a cab? The fox inquired.

"No thank you, have a good day." He said goodbye to the pair and walked to the doors leading outside. As he approached, the sensors opened them and he stepped through. Once more he was stunned by the beauty of the city he saw when landing earlier.

The towering buildings were not oppressing, in fact they made the town seem brighter. The surface streets were free of litter and had many Lylatians going about their day. Some were obviously tourists and others appeared to he locals. Yet they all shared one trait, they all were smiling, all of them. This was a very happy world it seemed. It made Alaric begin to feel a little left out, as if he was not getting the joke that every else had already gotten. They all looked so happy either with their friends of their family, both things which the scarred and lonely human lacked.

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He definitely needed that drink. Alaric opened the holo map on his device, the blue two dimensional emitter powered up with whir, and studied it for the location of the bar, finding it marked with a little bottle symbol, thanks to the help of the desk clerks. He memorized the rout fairly quickly and closed the map down. Now with it in his head, he started leave, waking away from the starport and into the warm friendly city itself.

In no time he arrived at the doors to the bar, it was a nice looking place, at least that's what he assumed. He no longer was familiar with the standards of bars, especially ones in alien space. In any case, he was thirsty, and a drink was exactly what he needed. With that in mind, he opened the doors and walked inside.

The interior held a friendly albeit rough vibe, and he was the only human inside. It was late in the afternoon, so the regulars would be the only ones in there. And guessing from the looks, most of them were okay. But as he walked to the big brown bear bartender, he heard loud drunken guffaws coming from a table in the back. He looked over and saw a group of wolves, they were obviously inebriated and rowdy. He decided to keep an eye on them as he stopped at the stained ebony counter.

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"What'll ya have?" The bear asked, his voice so deep it made the floor boards rumble slightly, yet it also held a welcome tone. He did not seem to be surprised to see a human, probably having had more than his fair share stop here for a drink.

Alaric didn't have a clue of what alcoholic brands existed in lylatian space or even if the names for some drinks he did know were the same. "What do you suggest?"

The beat hummed and replied "Fuscina spitfires are my personal favorite, although their stronger than most."

"That's fine, I'll have two." Alaric decided, dropping a hundred credits onto the counter.

"They aren't that expensive." The bear said, eyeing the chips on the bar.

"Doesn't matter; keep the change, that's fine with me." Alaric waved off inconsequentially. He didn't see a reason not to be kind to these people, so far that's all they have been to him.

"I appreciate it sir, although now I feel I must ask, what's your name?" The large black bear inquired, wanting to know the name of the generous human.

"Name's Alaric Vladislav." He replied, turning briefly to look at the obnoxious table of wolves briefly. They were quite bothersome.

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"So Alaric, what do you do?" The bear asked his new friend as he brought the bottles out from underneath the counter and began to mix up the drinks.

He noticed that the human's expression became distant and forlorn. "I was a soldier...but that was a long time ago."

"Ah I see, twas one myself a few years ago, but I opted out after my second term, didn't feel I could do it anymore. They wanted to keep me, saying I was too good a man to lose, but I denied it, wanted a quieter life. How about you, how did you get out?"

Alaric's face quickly morphed into a regretful, pained one. "I was...captured by the enemy, I was happy though, I was conscripted by my government, did things I will never forgive myself for, but they were orders and I followed them to protect my men. Got most of these in prison." He gestured to his face. Alaric decided to tell the bear, he was a fellow soldier after all, and soldiers understood.

The big bear stopped and looked to the man's face, it was scarred, and his trained eyes could see that the knifework was deliberate, and was probably incredibly painful when it happened. "Hmm, sounds like you've had it rough, more than I ever did. From one soldier to another, don't let what you did control your life, I did some things I'm not proud of either, but you can't change it, but what you can do is change yourself. Do what you can to redeem yourself." The bear said sagely.

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Alaric considered what the bear said seriously, it was a good plan, one he decided he would follow. "Great advice, I think I'll take it up. Thanks..."

"Bjorne, names Bjorne." The bear supplied. He handed over the two drinks to Alaric, the pure white beverages were dwarfed in his paws, and fizzed faintly in the air. "Tell you what, come around here another time, and we can have a good ol talk."

Alaric nodded appreciatively. "Sounds good Bjorne, I'll take you up on that offer." He grabbed the drinks and bid the bear goodbye, walking over to an unoccupied table in the far back of the dark room. So far this trip had been an enlightening one.

Meanwhile, a happy group of Lylatians were enjoying themselves. They were the Starfox team, legendary mercenaries of skill and valor. There efforts had saved the system from the vile clutches of Andross, a banished ape scientist that tried to enact his vengeance, against the people of Lylat. It had been a year since they fought the dreaded simian for the last time, and though they still did missions, they had not had one as important since.

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Things were going great for the team, they had just finished a big job destroying a pirate base, and got paid enough to take a much needed vacation on the wonderful tropical world of Fortuna. Not to mention that no major conflict had occurred yet, it was an era of peace and happiness for the people of Lylat.

Fox the defacto leader of the group, a dark orang furred vulpine, was orchestrating the festivities, planning out where he and his friends would go. He turned to his friends and ushered them over to catch up, as he readied to cross the street.

First one to do so was Slippy, the always nervous dark green toad was his mechanic and a friend since the academy. Due to his stature and clumsy tendencies, he was often picked on in the old days, Fox coming to his rescue almost daily. Despite all the trouble he got in, the amphibian became a welcomed and determined friend. This was what Fox was thinking as he watched the huffing and puffing toad catch up, the poor guy was a little out of shape.

The one to walk up next to Slippy was a different kind of person altogether. Falco Lombardi, was a tough as nails, arrogant, red and blue feathered avian. At first, he had been an enemy to Fox, competing with him when they were in school, but by the time they graduated, had become a friend to both him and Slippy.

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The next one of his team to reach the light was Krystal, the cerulean vixen had white tribal markings, and was the only non-lylatian on Fox's team. She hailed from a world long past, Cerinina; she was the only known cerininan to escape the planet's demise. Fox found her on Sauria, a world of dinosaurs, and rescued her from her entrapment by a large gem. Ever since, she has been a integral and valued member of his team, for she possessed a very special ability. Krystal was a telepath; she can read people's emotions and thoughts. Although in order to read thoughts she had to concentrate really hard, or be familiar with them. As the blue and white tribal marked vixen walked over, a duo of other females fell in step with her.

They were Fay Spaniel and Miyu Lynx. Both of them were later additions to the team. They had known Fox at the academy and only recently, a few months after Krystal joined, were welcomed into his team. Fay was a pure white spaniel, and was perhaps the youngest on the team besides Slippy. She was a year behind the others at the academy, so she could not join the team when they graduated. She had a trademark pink bow that she wore on her head and was very close friends with Miyu and Krystal.

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Miyu was a tomboyish orange and black patterned lynx. Her personality was straightforward, but sometimes she could get flustered. All around though, she was a great person to know, it didn't take much for her to consider someone a friend and she and Fay had been friends since before they went to school together. She had stayed behind to watch over Fay as she finished her final year before graduation. But as soon as she completed her time, they both went to Fox, who gladly accepted them.

And last but not least, Peppy Hare rolled in behind them sedately, the older grey hare didn't have the stamina of his younger friends, and in fact would have stayed in the ship if not for their persistent insistence for him to come along. Peppy was old, not too old mind, but he had seen allot of action in his time. He was the only remaining original member of Starfox. He had served with James Mccloud, Father of Fox, and Pigma Dengar, who would later go on to betray them to Andross, resulting in the assumed death of James.

With the entire team assembled at the light, they talked as they waited for it to turn blue. "So Slip, ready for your first time at a bar?" Falco asked, nudging the short toad. They had finally managed to convince the amphibian to go out with them.

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"I suppose so, as long as I have you guys looking out for me." Slippy piped back with his high pitched voice. He usually did not want to go because he worried that his usual clumsiness would get him in trouble. But after much prodding and promises to protect him, the reluctant toad agreed to go this once.

"Sure we will! Your our little squirt!" Miyu added jovially, wrapping a paw around the squat toad's shoulder and ruffling his bald head with the other. "Nobody messes with our squirt."

"Yeah! We got your back Slip!" The ever cheerful and soft voice of Fay added, patting the amphibian on his jumpsuited back to emphasize her point.

"If you say so." Slippy said, still a little doubtful of their commitment.

That's when Fox came in, his opinion swaying the toad. "What have I always told you Slip?" He questioned, turning his view away from the street to ask, making sure to get eye contact. His green eyes, held a power that made you believe what he said, or maybe it was just the confidant aura he always seemed to put out.

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"You got my back." Slippy sighed, having heard that question many times before, and knowing the response by heart.

"Exactly! And have I ever let you down?" Fox asked firmly.

"No Fox." Slippy relented, it was true though, Fox had bailed him out of trouble time and time again. And he hadn't failed to do so yet.

"Right, so don't worry about it Slip." Fox nodded as he spoke. "Plus it's only a bar, I don't think the planet is going to get invaded while we drink." As he said that, the light went from red to blue, and the team moved to cross to the bar on the opposite side of the street.

Yet, as they all moved to pass by, Slippy sat there for a few extra seconds to contemplate. He was never one for going out for social interactions, he had always felt awkward and out of place during them. As if he didn't belong there, it always made him feel inferior to his friends that seemed to have no problems at all.

Suddenly, he felt a velvety soft paw squeeze his shoulder comfortingly, the hidden claws gently pressing into his jumpsuit. "I know what you're thinking Slippy, and don't worry everything will be just fine." The smooth and smoky voice of Krystal said. She had felt the worry that the toad emitted into the surroundings, her telepathic skills picking it up easily. The vixen always prided herself on taking care of her friend's emotional needs, finding that she always felt good afterwards. It was a rewarding experience.

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"I know your right Krystal, but Instill think that anyways, its a subconscious thing." Slippy told the blue female fox. Ever since she joined the team, she had helped the socially bumbling toad, and he appreciated that greatly.

"I know you know, I just wanted to say it, and thanks for the thought, its sweet." Krystal replied warmly, giving the toad a friendly and gentle hug. "We better hurry up, the others are almost across." She added, making them go out onto the street, crossing the walkway to join their friends.

"Jeez, don't fall behind." Falco muttered seeing then catch up outside the bar.

"Let's go already!" Slippy said with as much confidence as he could bring to bear. "I'm ready."

The others looked at this new determined toad and smiled. Fox looked to Krystal and have her a thankfully grin. He knew that she had helped the toad out with his fears. She smiled back, bring her sharp pearly canines into view.

"All right Slip!" Falco nodded proudly and opened the door for his friend to go first. The toad strode in with a confident swagger, and tripped I the carpet in the doorway, falling onto his face.

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Falco held back laughter as he helped the now indignant toad to his feet. "It's okay, we won't laugh." Usually he would take the chance to rail his friend viciously, but he respected his attempt to be brave and held back. Krystal smiled as she felt the avian's considerate thought and followed after the team who went in after Slippy had recovered.

They all moved to grab a table at the back of the room, and were taken in awe at who they saw at the table next to the one they were taking.

It was a human! He was brooding over a pair of Fuscina spitfires, taking occasional sips from them. What really made them stare was his face. The human had scars on his pale face, and they weren't small ones. Most of them were faded with time, almost unnoticeable. The only prominent scar was a painful looking one that meandered down the left eyebrow and eye, across the bridge of his nose, and stopped at the right side of his chin. The man exhibited a dangerous aura that Krystal could pick up easily from her seat directly across from him. His eyes were a intimidating crimson color, and held as much rage as they did sorrow, in their depths, he had suffered greatly in the past, something that they all could tell.

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Perhaps feeling all the eyes on him, he looked up from his drinks to the group, who swiftly looked away not wanting to draw his ire. He clearly was no one to mess with. Fox, Falco, Peppy, and Miyu took notice of the hilt at his side before they turned away. He was defiantly dangerous.

While they all sat at the table, Krystal got up to order a specific drink, one she remember her parents drinking all those years ago. No establishment she had been to so far had it already so she always had to tell then how to make it. As she went up, Slippy decided to follow, he felt better around Krystal, she was always helping him out.

She arrived at the bar, and flagged down the bartender. "What can I do you for miss?" He asked politely, cleaning a mug in his left paw with a clean rag.

"I was hoping you could make a specific drink for me." She replied, leaning on the counter. She found her mind wandering back to the human, he had such a deep aura of pain and rage, his life must have been a terrible one. She felt herself wanting to comfort him.

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"Sure thing miss, just tell me what you need." She filled him in, and he walked away to fill her order. While she waited she heard a drunken voice interrupt her thoughts.

"Hey there pretty lady. Why don't you come over to my table?" She turned to see a clearly shitfaced grey wolf, his jaw was slack and he swayed slightly.

"No thank you." She relied quickly and turned away.

"Aww you're no fun, why not?" She felt a grimy paw land in her shoulder and swing her around to face him.

"I said no!" She growled and pushed him away, causing him to stumble.

The wolf obviously didn't like that because he righted himself with difficult and stormed back over. Yet before he could do anything, Slippy, who had been wracked with indecision, finally gathered the courage to step in front of Krystal defensively. The wolf's alcohol hazed mind was slightly confused at this new development. "What do you think your doing pipsqueak?" He thundered.

"L-l-leave h-h-her a-lone." He said with as much strength he could manage, which sadly, was not allot. Krystal liked to him, thankful for his attempt at helping, but worried at what might happen.

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The wolf barked in laughter darkly, amused by the defiance of the puny toad. Then he turned to look into the toads trembling face. "No." He reeled his closed paw back and launched it down to the flinching toad. The team had just noticed the commotion and jumped up to help the amphibian. They would not have made it in time, lucky for them and the toad, there was one person who had moved earlier.

The fist was firmly caught before it could finish the decent to its victim, in the furless hands of the human. The wolf turned to snarl at the intruder and blanched at the sight before him.

Standing there, with a contemptuous expression on his scarred face, was the most muscular and intimidating human the wolf had ever seen. The man's bright red eyes were blazing with disgust and anger. "Hitting people smaller then you huh, very impressive!" The human growled deeply.

"So, I can if I want to." The wolf snarled, with his judgement clouded by alcohol, and not wanting to back down with his friends watching, did the stupidest thing ever. He tried to fight back. As he brought his other paw around to claw at the human's face, the man flexed his hand holding the wolf's paw.

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Liken to the sound of twigs snapping underfoot, the wolf's bones in his paw crunched in the merciless tightening grip. With a whimper and a moan, he fell to the floor, all fight sucked out of him by the wound. "And I can as well." The human muttered, and with his deed done, turned to head back to his seat, ignoring the amazed and impressed eyes watching him. But the wolf was not done yet; he would not let this embarrassment go unpunished. He drew a small dagger from his pocket with the uninjured paw and jumped to stab the unawares human.

Just as Starfox was about to shout out a warning, the man casually sidestepped the lethal lung, grabbed the throat of the wolf, slammed him into the wall, and with a snap-hiss drew his much more frightening plasma lined sword, bringing the snarling blade up to his throat. "Fool, I have taken more lives than most serial killers could dream of, and you try to stab me in the back! I have killed for less!" He roared in the now quivering wolf's muzzle. The dagger fell from a now nerveless paw, and clattered to the wooden floor of the bar. The entire room was silent, all except the purring of the blade and the whimpers from the unmanned wolf. "Today is your lucky day wolf, I don't feel like riding the world of your flea-bitten hide." He tossed the canine to the floor harshly, stepped over him, went back to his seat, sat down and resumed drinking out of his last spitfire.

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The cowering wolf's friends picked him up and dragged him out of the bar. They would not be coming back anytime soon.

All the patrons of the bar ignored the retreating individuals in favor of studying this stranger, sitting so easily after what he did. Starfox watched him with a appraising eye, he certainly wasn't a normal individual. And so, with wary hearts, went over to sit at his table. They wanted to talk with this man. Yet none of them did so more then Krystal, he had store up for her and Slippy, without even knowing who they were, and yet didn't talk with them when he was done. She felt the desire to discover who he was and why he was there.

And so, with trepidation they sat at his table, the man looked up from his drink and grunted. "What do you want?"

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	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Here is the next chapter, I had a friend help me out with it so it should feel a little different. But at least I got it out. Currently I am working on this, Heart of Iron, and First Contact. I want to continue them all so please understand if updates are random or sparse. In any case this is all for you guys so enjoy!**

**Drake**

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 5: Stressful Downtime

Part 1

Even after he had done the right thing, even after he'd saved the day for those individuals he would soon come to know as Star Fox, Alaric was not at all happy. Simply put, all he'd wanted to do since coming into the bar was to get his drinks, finish them and go find a hotel where, in a real bed, he could sleep the rest of day away. Truly, he hadn't wanted to have to come close to curb stomping some drunken idiot; an idiot who had been trying to take advantage of some female blue fox or beat up the little toad with her.

Still, in the end, as it'd been clearly demonstrated to everyone in the tavern a moment ago with his shouting, Alaric had been nearly forced to curb stomp a drunken idiot. And that in turn for some reason... had left him with a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth, truth be told. A taste he tried to ignore by sipping his already bitter beverages at hand.

Still no matter how much he drank, Alaric now found himself in a bad mood. No, he wasn't naive about reality. Yes, deep down, despite the generous few of them he'd met up to this point, he had guessed that not all Lylatians could be good people. Every race had its darker aspect. Nevertheless, lord almighty, he had at least hoped that he would not find the "exceptions" during his short stay here on Fortuna. But he had. And on the first day to boot! Ugh! That was the real kick in the pants for him. Could he not just enjoy himself for a second in his troubled life without some problem hindering him?

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Growling to himself, doing his best to not let his angered heart fire up too much, Alaric focused on finishing his last spitfire. After that task was completed, he would next concentrate on leaving this bar. Hopefully, he wouldn't meet any more drunken "undesirables" on his way out. Hopefully, tomorrow would sing a different tune. At the moment, the best he could honestly wish for was to remain alone. He wanted to drink undisturbed.

Yet, as it turned out, his wishes were not meant to be. Not when he next heard the combined scuffling of numerous wooden chairs as they were dragged across the abused wooden alcohol stained floorboards towards him. After the said dragged chairs were situated near him, they admitted the presence of seven individuals. Coolly, Alaric took a stock glance at his newest unwanted companions to join him at his table.

Interestingly, there was an orange fox, a blue and red bird, an old looking hare, some type of feline with long ears (one of which had a large gold piercing), a stark white spaniel with a pink bow on her head along with spring in her actions, and the sapphire vixen, shy toady combo he had just stepped in for. For a long time, there was silence at Alaric's table. Then, when realizing he wasn't going to be left alone by his newest companions, the human began the conversation reluctantly.

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"Ah, it's you. And...friends of yours?" He grunted towards the blue vixen and her toad of a fellow, nodding to them. Still, despite his greetings, he was not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. His tone probably made that clear. "Hmf, what do you all want?"

The first one to speak up on everyone's behalf was the rusty, orange furred male fox. With a clearing of his throat and twitch of his ears, the said fox greeted Alaric cheerily, "Hi, ahem, the names Fox Mccloud. I just wanted to offer my thanks for you helping my friends out back there."

This Fox McCloud's tone was friendly and warm. On a side note, Alaric noticed that the vulpine's muzzle was pasted with an infectiously winning smile. Hmf, no doubt this Fox had used the act of "smiling" to great effect before. Yet, as the leader of Star Fox was about to realize, Alaric was not one so easily swayed nor befriended.

"You're thanking me for bullying a drunk? Uh huh, well don't worry about it. I wasn't exactly doing you a favor, he was just getting on my nerves." He replied dismissively, wanting to go back to his earlier solitude. He couldn't do that, mind. Not with all of the staring he was getting from his newest company; mostly from the females who he pointedly avoided eye contact with. Heh, avoiding their eyes only made them want to stay and figure him out all the more.

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Either way, Fox McCloud or whoever looked a bit discouraged by the response to his gratitude. Regardless, he persevered. Keeping the smile, he went on speaking with the uninterested Alaric, "Yeah well, I feel like I owe ya' for that. here, to better show my thanks, how about I get you another drink?"

Another drink, eh? For free? Hm. Looking at his two recent bought beverages, Alaric actually considered it. Hey, maybe another one would be alright. And just because some stupid asshole ruined his day, that didn't mean he should attempt to ruin these friendly Lylatians' either. After all, spreading hate had been his

At this thinking, feeling a bit more open, Alaric glanced around at his companions. His eyes fell a second longer onto the cerulean vixen where, in turn, her muzzled curved up into a soft smile. What strange timing for her to grin like that. It was almost like... she had read his mind and sensed his good intentions.

"If you're buying..." Alaric admitted to Fox, shrugging non-caringly, "Then I suppose I could stick around for another."

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"Hey, hey, fantastic! Stay put, hot shot. I'll be right back." Fox laughed, looking pleased.

The leader of Star Fox got up to go get the owed drink. This, in turn, left Alaric and the others to sit in awkward silence. Having had such a rough past up to this point, the human hadn't really interacted with large groups all that much. Unless, of course, you counted his men back during the war. Yet, he considered that a different thing altogether. He had spilled blood for them as much as they had for him. They'd been his brothers. But these Lylatians... he had no clue as to how to interact with them. Like their eyes suggested, what did they want from him? What was he supposed to say or do?

"Soooooo...what's your name stranger?" The exotic feline actually asked after a long silence. She in fact didn't ask with suspicion but with an interested if not playful voice. Honestly, her voice had been a purr as she'd played with her ebony head-fur, twirling it around in her clawed fingers. Unknown to Alaric, his experienced looks as well as stoic disposition made him an intriguing prospect of information for the lynx as she, keenly, watched him with her golden slitted eyes.

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In turn to being asked his title, the human mulled over the decision on whether or not to tell them. In the end, he saw no harm in it.

"My name? I, am Alaric Vladislav." He answered. Due to his gruff voice, his company all looked at him with enchanted gazes, it was rough and held just an almost unnoticeable accent.

"Alaric Vladi - er - Alaric Vladislav? My, that's certainly an interesting name." The snow white spaniel remarked with a lively voice. Just from a quick glance at her, Alaric could already be clarified that she was the flighty type of woman. Or, at least, she was very positive. He would wait to find out which held true.

"In the end, interesting or not, it's a name." Alaric muttered neutrally. Personally, he cared little for it, too much shame associated with the moniker.

Next, the rather exotic if not confident bird leaned towards him. "So, Alaric, if you don't mind me askin'... where did you learn to fight like that?" The avian inquired, interested to know how one could learn to fight with a sword in this day and age.

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"Military service. Indeed, my service in the military served to teach me many things. Things including my proficiency with the sword like you saw a moment ago." The human replied vaguely to the ace pilot of Star Fox. In all honesty, his professionalism with his sword was a skill he was not often proud of. It had a dark history to it, one he wished to forget. But he refused to let himself forget. For if he did, it would be a disservice to all the lives he had ruined with the dreaded blade.

"Huh. You're a military man, eh?" The avian muttered thoughtfully. Now that it was thought about, the human definitely had the appearance of one. "What unit did you serve under?" Evidently, the bird did not know human titles and wanted to hear one. Most Lylatian ones were not very original. They usually had names associated with the species of the unit commander.

"I served under a unit... I wished I was not part of." Alaric sighed with a depressed grimace.

That question had really been uncomfortable for him, reinforcing his unwanted memories and reminding him of the real reason he was here. At seeing his savior upset, the toad suddenly jabbed the avian with a retributive hand.

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"Bah! Look what you did Falco. You've gone and upset the guy!" The amphibian berated the named bird. Ah, so that was his name? Falco.

"Jeez Slippy, how was I supposed to know?" Falco fired back defensively rubbing his injured side, he was starting to regret sitting next to his amphibian friend with his new found confidence.

Hm, so the toad's name was Slippy. How very... what was the right word? Fitting?

"It is quite alright, no harm done. There's no reason for bickering. I have had many years to come to terms with it." Alaric waved off dismissively.

In all honesty, about his militant past, Alaric never had and never would come to terms. There were far too many things that could not be forgiven. Still, the blue vixen in the corner frowned deeply at him. He wondered if it was something he'd said? Again, why did it feel... like she'd read through his words and seen the truth? Why did it feel like she could read his mind?

"Phew, there we go. I'm back guys!" Fox announced loudly, two drinks in tow, one for himself and one for the human undergoing a random interview. The leader of Star Fox set down one of the welcomed purchases in front of the man and retook his seat near him.

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"Thank you. For the drink, I mean." Alaric said kindly at getting his promised drink which took a swig of, "Fox, wasn't it?" Letting the smooth yet strong liquid satisfy his parched throat, all this talking was not common for the quiet man.

"That's right." Fox replied, sounding encouraged, "That's my name. Good to see it hasn't left you yet."

Thoughtfully, quietly humored by Fox's words, Alaric looked to the assembled group ahead of him. Now that he had gotten the drink they felt they'd owed him, there was something passing through everyone's minds: what would they all do now?

"Er, I beg your pardon but what brings someone like you here to this wonderful world of Fortuna?" The hare asked from his seat inquisitively. He was curious to know what brought a human to Lylatian space. As it been said beforehand, Solarans (as the Lylatians dubbed them), usually were not fond of venturing away from their own turf.

"I stopped here to load up on supplies before heading out to Katina. I'm looking for a lost research ship." Alaric responded simply, spouting his rehearsed story with ease. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched with budding curiosity as the vixen began to look intently at him. Lord, once more, judging by narrowed green eyes, it was as if she could detect him covering up something. And then, out of nowhere, Alaric was quite literally punched in the face when the said vixen asked him something he had not expected.

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"It would not happen to be called the Undying would it?" She questioned out of the freaking blue, her soft, silky, smooth voice gracing the inwardly shocked human's ears and also making him uneasy at once. How... had she just asked that question? Little had been said. Nothing had been even remotely hinted towards Alaric's secret purpose in Lylat Space.

"Hmf. A random guess on your part. Still, it actually would have something to do with the Undying." The human finally admitted grudgingly, not hiding anything from his inquisitive crew, "How would you know that though, miss?"

How could these strangers be so well informed? Even though he acted cool about this situation, Alaric was apprehensive now. There was something in the works here, it could be fate that led him to these certain Lylatians. That or something much more sinister. he couldn't lower his guard for even a moment.

"It just so happens that we have." She replied simply. "We were going to go search for it after our vacation. Our General Pepper, defender of Lylat Space, thought it would be a great way to improve relations between our species and your own."

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Well, it seemed that the purpose of the Undying was not fully found out. Leave it to the unknowing, generous Lylatians to want to make offerings of kindness with the humans plotting behind their backs. However...this was bad. If this group with Alaric found the Undying before him, they would discover it's true purpose. And that would not end well for either governments. How so? Alaric didn't think that the peoples of Lylat would appreciate humans "exploring" places without their knowledge or permission.

And how ironic this moment suddenly was. Here these rather friendly Lylatians were, out of all of the people in the universe, buying the one man a drink that would be helping the bastards back in Solar accomplish their underhanded dastardly deed.

"Hm, about the Undying... That certainly is, well, pleasantly coincidental." Alaric said slowly. Duh, all truth held to the contrary. It certainly did.

"Is there a problem?" The sapphire vixen asked him next, curious as to why his mood had changed.

To herself, Krystal's interest was piqued. No matter how hard or subtle she tried, she could not read this human individual's mind. His conscience was surprisingly well guarded. Yet, in the least, she could read his emotions and those were ranging from worried to suspicious and then finally to something along the lines of... regret?

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"No. There's no problem here. I just didn't expect you Lylatians to care about human affairs was all." Alaric admitted, shrugging. Lord, he was doing the craziest inward dance of his life here. He was putting his charms, words and undercover skills to the test at this table.

"Nonsense. Your human ship was in trouble and so we're more than eager to assist. Why shouldn't we be helping our allies?" Fox wondered, genuinely believing it.

"I did not mean to cause offense." Alaric replied, "It's just, as I said, I had not thought about it."

"It's alright!" The spaniel replied with a bright smile, flashing her pearly white, and wagging her tail, "No harm, no foul."

Alaric released a relieved sigh, he did not want to have to go in any more detail for fear of his true purpose being discovered. He quickly downed his drink, letting the strong alcoholic liquid burn down his throat. Then, he stood up.

"It was nice meeting you all. Truly. Still, I'm afraid I must take my leave." He explained firmly, moving around the crowded table, "If you'll all excuse me, I have yet to secure my lodging for this visit."

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Quite suddenly, he was abrupt and to the point which startled the team. He cleared the table space in front of him off anything he might have left behind, grabbed the hilt of his sword, attached to his waist, walked away, dropped a few respectful credits to the bartender whom nodded with gratitude. And then, after a few quick words, he was gone from sight after having stepped out the front doors.

Star Fox watched it all in stunned silence. The human had left so fast that they had not thought of stopping him.

"Aw. What was with him?" Miyu asked, eyeing the exit curiously. She looked a bit hurt. "Was it just me or did he change pretty fast when we told him about the ship?"

"I don't think he liked what he heard." Peppy added thoughtfully, crossing his arms and looking pensive, "About the Undying, I mean. The shine in his eyes sharpened."

"Yeah. His attitude shifted alright. It had to have something to do with that ship. I just know it." Slippy deduced, having an easier time of assessing the situation due to his natural brilliance.

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"You're not alone there. I think so too Slip." Fox agreed. "Call it my instincts at work but there something definitely going on here. Something that we don't know and I don't think we would like it if we did."

"Well, this all sounds so very heartening. I say we find him and get him to talk." Falco voiced his opinion, his being very straightforward and tactless.

"We can't just force him to. Not after he helped me and Slippy." Krystal objected. She decided that not telling them about what she felt would be the wiser thing to do at the moment. The whole story was not being told here. It wouldn't be right to instantly label her and Slippy's defender as some kind of shadowy criminal.

"Hey Krystal, sister, you read minds, don't ya'?" Miyu asked, distractedly messing with her golden earring, "What was on his? Do tell."

"I cannot. It was too well guarded for me to get a reading in the time he was here." Krystal lied.

"That's..." Miyu admitted, looking perplexed, "Different."

"That's unfortunate, you mean." Falco muttered. "Having his mind read would have made this a lot simpler."

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"Look, look, why don't we just go talk to him again? He seemed like a good enough guy, right? Maybe he would tell us if we asked." Slippy suggested to the group, being the voice of reason. "Not to mention its probably the easiest way to go about this. Easier than firing blasters and taking him into custody, anyhow."

Fox, who had been quietly observing his friends, finally spoke his opinion. "Talking could prove to be easier than blasting. It would be better, morally speaking. Okay, we're rolling with Slip's idea. It's the best way to do this."

After his announcement all other options were dropped. McCloud, like his father before him, was the leader this day and his decision was final. Still, there was a certain Avian who rolled his eyes in the background.

"If you say so Fox." Falco said uncertainly. He had his doubts, and would prefer to do it his way.

Regardless, with the matter settled for now, the members of Star Fox turned back to the business of their vacation. Although, as they went about their said vacation, they couldn't help but have some thought reserved for what had occurred. What had been... avoided back there with Alaric? What had not been deduced? What was to come?


	7. Chapter 7

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 5: _Stressful Downtime, Part II__  
_

Alaric quickly left the bar, he did not want the ones he had just met to follow him. The less they knew, the less they would suspect, and he wanted to keep it that way. The human stepped outside the bar and observed the area around him.

Outside was bright, the gentle sunlight felt like a silken blanket upon his scarred form. This world seemed pleasant enough, and he would have liked to stay longer than a few days. But he still felt the mission looming over him. The faster he accomplished it, the faster he could earn his freedom. The human pulled up the map app on his comms bracer and scrolled through it, looking for a hotel to call it a night. The thought of a soft warm bed was something that compelled him to walk faster. Alaric read a few of the reviews for the closest hotel and decided that it would work well enough for him. A holo popped up on his bracer and the human followed the directions, only partially paying attention to the glances he was getting.

As he walked, he thought back to those lylatians he had met at the bar. They were a very odd bunch. And that blue coated vixen gave him an uneasy feeling. He didn't like the way she was looking at him, as if she could see into his soul. The man shuddered and continued on his way. Alaric chuckled softly to himself. The male fox, whose name was the same, seemed to be a likeable enough character, although his friendly and charismatic attitude somewhat grated on his nerves.

The bird was callous and straight forward, and Alaric found him to be the most understandable. Although he could serve to get knocked down a few pegs. The feline and the dog however, where a little too curious for his taste. If there was one thing the human despised more than his past, it was people bringing it up. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of what he had done.

The toad seemed to be a little naïve as well. But he was also rather bright from what Alaric had gathered. No doubt he was the team's brainiac. All in all, they were an interesting group, and Alaric wished to have nothing to do with them. He would have to cut his visit here short, and leave after he spent a little time with his new friends from the starport. After all, he had promised them he would stay and he always kept a promise.

Alaric stopped outside a short three story building, painted a rich blue color with windows placed symmetrically on every floor.

This was the place.

The human stepped into the lobby and walked towards the receptionist's desk. Two concierges were standing behind it and smiled warmly at him as he approached.

"Welcome to The Deep Blue. How can I help you today?" The one closest to him, a male raccoon, greeted.

"I need a room for the night, one bed." Alaric replied as he looked around the lobby. A few guests were either just arriving or just departing, wheeling out an assemblage of luggage. When he looked back at the desk, he saw the concierge typing away at the screen in front of him.

"We have a room available on the third floor, and two on the second floor."

Alaric nodded. "I'll take one on the second floor."

"Excellent, it will be 150 credits for the night." The raccoon explained as he looked up from the screen.

In response, Alaric stuck out his bracer and he got it scanned.

The concierge reached under the desk and pulled out a card, sliding it across the maple surface and towards the human. "Here is your room key. Take the elevator and go right all the way to room 215, enjoy your stay!"

Alaric picked up the card and gave the raccoon a smile and thanked him as he headed towards the elevator. It was a quick walk towards the room after he exited the elevator and he slid his card. The light flashed green and the human stepped inside.

In the interior of the hotel room was dark, and Alaric flicked the switch, illuminating his surroundings. There was a single bed connected to the left wall, a table with a chair near the blinded window, two small bureaus on either side of the bed, and a TV was built into the wall.

At the sight of the comfy looking bed, Alaric exhaled heavily and walked towards it. He didn't bother with getting undressed and simply dropped onto it. As he sunk slowly into the foamy mattress he let loose a contented sigh and closed his eyes in bliss.

It had been too many years since he last slept in a real bed or even a bed in general. "This….this is nice." He muttered to himself as he relaxed completely. At that moment he knew he wasn't getting out of this bed for the next eight hours at the earliest. He set an alarm on his bracer for ten o'clock and leaned back further into the sheets.

It only took him a few more seconds to fall asleep.

* * *

Fox and the others entered the lobby of the hotel they planned on hunkering down at for the night. The vulpine led his group to the front desk and greeted the two workers. "Hi, my friends and I were hoping you had some rooms available." He said with a grin.

"Of course, we always have spare room for the heroes of Lylat!" The grinning attendant answered enthusiastically.

"That's awesome!" Fox grinned back.

Soon, they got settled in, and even got a 45% discount on their rooms. As they were walking away, the attendant called out. "Please enjoy your stay at The Deep Blue."

"Thanks, I think we will!" Fox replied as they walked away.

* * *

The human was awoken by a soft trilling coming from his comms bracer. Curious, he sat up from the bed and saw that a call was waiting for him. Alaric accepted the call and spoke into the device. "Alaric here."

"Hey Alaric…its Collin!" The upbeat and friendly tone of the hanger mechanic filled the small well furbished room.

"Oh hey, Collin." The human replied as he scratched his cheek, realizing who it was.

"Hey, just calling to make sure you are ready for the day!"

"Yeah sure, sure..." Alaric assured the excitable canine as he got up from his bed. "I was just getting ready to leave my room." The human looked to the time and saw that he was awake an hour earlier then he would have liked and frowned ruefully.

"Sounds great, Janet, Cassie, and I are at the hanger where your ship is, so head on down!"

"Right, I'll be there in a few." The human said as he hung up the call. "Looks like the bed will have to wait for another time." He sighed morosely as he looked at its fluffy splendor. Well, at least he should be having some fun today before he had to leave and look for The Undying.

Alaric only needed a few minutes to get his morning sanitary ritual done before he left. He was still in his outfit from the day before and he had not brought anything else with him, so he really had nothing else to worry about.

The human exited his room and walked down the hall, taking the elevator which dropped him off in the lobby. Alaric stepped off the lift and headed towards the doors. On his way out, he heard the elevator open again and he felt the need to turn look back.

What he saw made him groan. How had they managed to meet again?

The team from the bar stepped out from the elevator, having been packed in like sardines. The human did not desire another meeting with them so he turned and made for the doors.

"Hey Alaric!" He heard the familiar friendly voice of their leader call out to him in surprise.

But the human ignored his greeting and slipped through the doors of the hotel and out into the streets. Not wanting them to catch up with him, Alaric marched down the street and took a sharp left down an alley. He followed it until he reached the other side and slipped into the crowd.

It took him only ten or so minutes to get back to the starport and the hanger where he was supposed to meet the trio. At first, he was startled to see his ship missing, but saw that it had been moved to the inside of the hanger.

He walked across the heated tarmac and stood in the entrance of the hanger, and when he saw his ship his jaw dropped in disbelief.

Gone was the rusting hulk he had the day before, replaced by a shining blue and silver beauty. He was understandably awed to see such a drastic transformation in such a short time.

"Hey there Alaric!" He heard a pair of voices call out almost in synchronous before he felt two pairs of fuzzy arms wrap around his waist from behind him.

The human turned to see the two ginger tabbies Janet and Cassie, holding onto him tightly as they beamed up at him with wide grins. Their tails swung side-to-side at that same rhythm and they were hard to distinguish from each other.

"Hello." He replied and hesitantly hugged them back, still unused to such easy physical contact.

"Hey there, glad to see ya!" Collin shouted from somewhere above him.

Alaric released the two orange and red felines and looked up to see the canine sitting atop his ship, covered in grim and waiving down with a tool in his paw. The dog slid down the side of the ship and jumped off, landing next to Alaric. "Like what we did?" Collin inquired as he wiped his sooty paws off with a stained rag.

"How did you do so much so fast?" Alaric asked as he looked back to his ship.

"Fortuna has the best mechanics this side of corneria!" The canine boasted with a grin as he wagged his tail and scratched at an ear. "Besides, all we had to do was patch up the hull and give it a new paintjob. We didn't get to the interior."

"Either way, this is amazing work." Alaric praised openly. He knew good work when he saw it and this truly was something." The human could always work on the interior himself. He had already started and he found the work soothing for his troubled soul.

"Yes well now that you're here, you ready for a tour of the town?" The canine asked as he took off his tool belt and set it down on a table to his left. "The others can finish up on the hull." He gestured a paw behind him to the seven other mechanics who were working on the ship.

"Sure, I'm ready when you are."

"Fantastic!" Cassie squeaked and pulled his arm towards the hanger's exit. Janet just rolled her eyes at her sister's eagerness and followed after her with Collin in tow.

Alaric and the trio spent a good portion of the day walking around the resort city and showing what they considered to be the highlights. There was the war memorial, commemorating the soldiers from Fortuna who lost their lives, a museum for the history of the colony, and finally they went to the sprawling park that was in the center of the city.

Alaric sat on a bench with the three and watched as the locals and tourists alike walked and played in the park. "This was nice…thank you." He looked to them. He had never spent a whole day just having fun before. And it was something he would treasure.

"Of course, we were glad to do it!" Cassie responded with a smile as she sat next to him.

"She's right! We had fun too!" Collin backed up the feline with just as much enthusiasm. "Now, let's go get something to eat!"

Alaric nodded in agreement when his bracer suddenly started to beep. "Give me a moment." The human excused himself and stood up from the bench, walking a few feet away and accepting the call.

"This is Alaric."

"Alaric, what is the status of your mission?" A dreadfully familiar voice demanded over the comms line.

Alaric grimaced and replied in a slight growl. "It's progressing, Wallace."

"Is that so?" Wallace claimed with an unamused tone. "Then why are you still on that planet?"

"I needed to get my ship refueled and repaired. You gave me a piece of shit!" Alaric snarled at the small bracer as if it was the man in question.

"We gave you what you needed, nothing more nothing less. But that doesn't matter; your ship should be adequately renovated by this time. I want you off that planet Alaric! You have a mission to accomplish, or have you forgotten?" The Commander asked with a sneer in his voice.

Alaric sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "No…I have not…I'll make sure to leave immediately."

"Good, now get moving." The line cut off.

Alaric stood there, fists tightening in frustration. Just when he was starting to actually enjoy himself, he had to be painfully reminded of his real reason for all of this. Alaric did his best to calm down and reluctantly turned back to the trio who had been waiting for him at a polite distance away.

"Ready to go?" Collin asked eagerly.

"Uh…about that." Alaric sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I can't. My boss called and he wants me to get the ship I have to leave."

Collin and the two girls visibly deflated at that. "So soon?" Janet asked with a frown.

"Yeah, he's pretty adamant about it."

"But we had so much more planned!" Cassie mewled sadly. Her tail limply flopped and her ears were laid back.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do about it." Alaric told her gloomily.

"Can't you just stay one more day?" Collin requested hopefully.

"It's…complicated." Alaric replied slowly. "I don't really have a choice in the matter. Let's just say I need to do as he says if I want to keep this job."

"Okay…" Collin muttered as he looked down at the ground. "I understand."

"Tell you what…" Alaric said as he came up with an idea. "I'll come back as soon as I finish the job. And then I'll stay here a whole week. How does that sound?"

His idea made them smile and cheer up. "Promise?" Cassie asked, looking up to him with her soft green eyes.

"Promise." Alaric swore and smiled at her.

The human said his goodbyes and left them at the park, heading back to his ship. As he walked the path back, he felt depressed. But he was also determined. The sooner he did what was asked of him, the sooner he could get out from under his chains and become a free man.

Alaric entered the starport's main hall and made his way to the small exit that would drop him off in the hanger. Yet before he could get far, he turned a corner and collided with someone in his rush to depart, sending himself and the other person falling to the ground in a heap.

Alaric quickly brushed himself off and helped the other person to their feet. "Sorry about that, I'm in a rush."

"It's quite alright." The other person, a female by the voice, replied. Something about her voice struck him as familiar and he looked up to see who it was.

Alaric groaned in annoyance. "You again?' He muttered as he looked into the white and blue muzzle of the cerulean vixen.

"Yes, we seem to have crossed paths once more haven't we?" She remarked, muzzle curving into a smirk.

"Where are your friends?" He asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Around…" She answered cryptically and flicked her long ears. "So, why are you in a hurry? All set to find your missing ship?"

Alaric didn't like how she knew what he was doing. "Yeah…what of it?" He demanded suspiciously.

"I was merely curious." The vixen answered. "Would you perhaps like some company on your voyage?" She asked him out of the blue and throwing the human through a loop.

Alaric was baffled and a little upset by her offer. "No, I don't want too many people in my ship. Besides, we only just met. What makes you think you can trust me?"

"I was only speaking for myself, and call it a hunch." She explained in her strange way.

Alaric sighed. "Look…I appreciate the offer." He said, although he really didn't. "But I think it would be best if I go alone."

She stared at him for a minute with her predatory emerald eyes and stunned him with her response. "Why do you wish to be alone? I find that a voyage is always better with some company, don't you?"

"I…" Alaric didn't know what to say in response. Something about this vixen kept throwing him off. Never before had he had so much trouble talking with someone. It was as if she knew things about him, and that unsettled him. And yet at the same time, it intrigued him.

"What could you have to lose?" She enquired with a toothy grin.

The human in fact, had a lot to lose. "Won't your friends miss you?"

"They'll understand." She answered quickly, still grinning unsettlingly.

Alaric mulled it over, and against his better judgment, he decided to let her, even though he was certain that his orders specifically stated that it was a bad idea. It was strange; he felt as if he was being subtly manipulated, as if this was not entirely his choice. He didn't like the feeling one bit. "Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaints." He warned grumpily.

"Of course." She nodded her muzzle and grinned victoriously.

Alaric just grumbled and motioned for her to follow after him and to his ship.

Krystal smiled as she followed after the human. She bent her personal rules a little bit and gently nudged the human into letting her come along. The vixen had went to the starport and waited to bump into him. She had a gut feeling that sticking with this human was important. Something was happening, the winds of fate were circling around this man, and she intended to figure out why.

"Well, here she is…The Serpent's Lair." Alaric announced, making the vixen look up.

His ship was surprisingly large, about half the size of The Great Fox. It looked like an old refurbished freighter, colored in the blue and silver of the lylatian fleet. It was long and had a smooth angular outline. The main body of the ship was boxy and tapered to a broad tip at the front.

"It looks beautiful." The vixen complimented.

"Yeah well it was a piece of shit a little while ago." Alaric grunted noncommittally. "You lylatians are pretty good at fixing things."

"Slippy is the best mechanic I know." Krystal replied.

"Slippy…that the little toad who stuck up for you?" Alaric inquired, looking back at her with his crimson eyes.

"Yes."

"Brave little squirt." Alaric shook his head ruefully. "Come on then, let's get this show on the road." He sighed and stepped up the ramp, boots clinking against the grated metal.

Krystal sedately walked up after him, only a little worried that her plan was not exactly a wise one. But it was too late to turn back and so she entered.

The human stood at the top of the ramp and when she was up there with him he pressed the large red button built into the wall. The ramp's hydraulics hissed and it slowly eased closed, bathing the room in darkness.

Alaric walked away from her and flicked a switch near a door, turning on the ship's lights.

Krystal was surprised to see the conditions the inside of the ship was in. It was decidedly different from the outside. Parts hung from the ceiling, loose panels covered the walls and she could see wiring sticking out. There was also junk scattered across the floor. It was not a lot, just a few bits of metal but it made the ship look like it was deserted, besides the out of place cornerian supply boxed loaded into the hold. He must have come here to pick up supplies she summarized.

"Sorry about the mess, the man who I got the ship from was an asshole." Alaric told her as he gestured for the vixen to follow. She did and saw that the further she went into the ship, the better it looked.

"I spent some time fixing it up, but I've only had it for a day or so." Alaric clarified as he led the vixen deeper in. "Some sections are closed off; I haven't gotten to them yet. But the crew quarter's is mostly intact, and I'm sure there's a room for you." Alaric and the vixen took a short path from the cargo hold and made it to the crew quarters. It was just a small collection of individually sealed rooms, and he opened the first one. Alaric looked inside and saw that it was a complete disaster. 'Well, not that one." He mumbled to himself and opened the second door. The second room was distinctly superior, and was in the same condition as his. It looked pretty much the same besides the fact it didn't have a desk, which gave it more space. "You can bunk here." Alaric realized something as he said that. "Uh…I don't think I caught your name." He said to her as he wiped a hand down his face, humiliated that he forgot such a key detail.

The vixen smiled and shrugged it off. "That's alright, my name is Krystal."

"Krystal…beautiful name." Alaric stated as he turned around. "In any case, I have to input the coordinates for the last known location of The Undying. You are free to roam around the ship, although there isn't much to see at the moment." He remarked over his shoulder as he walked away. Alaric was rather confident that she couldn't really do anything bad to the ship, at least nothing worse than it was already, and so he was comfortable with leaving her alone.

Krystal watched the human disappear around a corner and smiled softly. He was a rather interesting character to be sure. The vixen turned back to her new quarters and her smile faded. The room could be better, but she had slept in worse conditions. As she walked inside and toured her new living space she began to realize how sudden her impulse to follow him was. All she had were the clothes on her back and her staff. Everything else was back on The Great Fox. But, she supposed that was what adventure was about, taking chances and living in the moment.

Krystal sat on her new cot and flipped open her comms bracer, deciding to call Fox before they left communications range. The other vulpine picked up immediately.

"Where are you?!" He demanded worriedly.

"I decided to accompany the human." She responded, looking around the cabin absently as she spoke, trailing a furred digit across the bed and drawing up a thick smudge of dust.

"What?!" Fox yelped, sounding as if he had just choked on something. "And he just dained to let you go?"

"No…I helped make his choice easier." Krystal explained, wiping her sullied paw against her pants.

"So you influenced his mind…if he finds out he isn't going to be too happy about that Krystal." Fox warned.

"I can take care of myself Fox, and besides, if you follow my beacon in the bracer, you will be able to track his ship."

Fox was quiet for a moment. "I see….that's a clever but dangerous plan. We don't know what he is doing here, or what the ship has to do with anything. What if he tried to hurt you?"

"I said I can take care of myself, and I have a feeling that he wouldn't. He's a little strange, but I know he is a good man. I can feel it."

"If you say so, Krystal..." Fox said uncertainly. He was clearly not enthusiastic with her plan

"Anyways, we'll soon be out of radio range so I won't be able to contact you until we exit shockspace."

"Okay…stay safe Krystal. I'll let the others know."

"Will do Fox." She responded and tapped a claw on the disconnect tab, ending the call.

Krystal looked up from her communicator and sighed. This was the first time she would be separated so completely from her friends, and she felt a small sliver of unease at the prospect. But she was an experienced mercenary and she knew she could handle separation anxiety.

Since she was stuck on his ship for an unknown amount of time, she decided to occupy herself with exploring. Krystal exited her room and began to wander the ship.

* * *

Alaric was standing on a small stepladder with his upper torso inside the ducts of his ship. He plotted a course for the ShockPoint beacon he arrived with and set about to once more work on his new ship. It was his plan to keep it after he finished his mission, if they allowed him his freedom.

The one time soldier was trying to get the wires in the duct to function. For some reason the air conditioning unit for the ship stopped working. Thankfully the O2 scrubbers were still working, but it was starting to get hot, and he wanted to get that out of the way quickly. As he twisted two wires together, there was a sharp fizzing pop and they sparked, burning his hands. "Shit!" He hissed and yanked his fingers away, shaking and then sucking on the burnt ones. "Fucking piece of shit!" He growled and smacked the wall of the vent in frustration. Yet as he was treating his wounds, a soft wind came through the duct. "Well at least you're working now." He muttered and climbed out of the vent, closing it back up.

Alaric stepped of the small ladder and dusted off his hands. That was one out of thousand problems fixed. All he had to do now was check up on the engines, clear away the remaining debris in the rooms and halls, fix the elevator for the other two decks, finish with the bridge check on the ship's reactor, unpack the new supplies, and that was just the start. Thinking about what he had left to do made the human sigh and rub his eyes in exhaustion.

"Problems?" He heard a half curious and half amused feminine voice inquire from behind him. Alaric was confused as to who the owner of the voice was, but then remembered that he had allowed that strange vixen onto his decrepit ship…and he was still foggy as to the reason why.

Alaric turned to face her, and hesitated before replying. It was the first time he allowed himself a good look at his guest. She was wearing a red T-shirt, and dark blue almost black jeans. On her hindpaws were a pair of wooden sandals and her manicured nails were colored red. Her tail poked out from rear of her pants and was long and bushy with a white peak. Strange white markings were tattooed into the fur in an almost hypnotizing pattern and he could see the hints of other marks just under the sleeves of her shirt. She had a blunt narrow whiskered muzzle that looked almost dainty. Her muzzle was white, and ringed with a deep sea of cerulean fur. The vixen also had a long mane of hair that went down to just past her shoulders and it flowed free. All in all, she was surprisingly beautiful.

"Uh…yeah, I have a few thousand or so problems. This ship was falling apart when I got it, and after some work in a hanger and of my own hand, it still is ready to fall apart." Alaric explained to her, mentally shaking off his sudden infatuation. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He had far too much on his plate to have to worry about something like that. Although…he had never had the chance to explore that option before…Alaric sighed internally, and it looked like he would still be refraining.

"Yes, I see what you mean." She replied as she looked around curiously.

Alaric looked around with her and saw that this corridor was still mostly dismantled. Seeing it like that put a sudden hamper on his drive to fix everything, and his stomach took that moment to rumble loudly. Then, the human recalled that he had not eaten anything in….you know, he was not sure when the last time he ate was. Alaric was now glad that he had supplies; otherwise he would have started his mission on a very empty stomach.

Krystal's ears flicked as she heard the human's stomach growl.

"How about I get us something to eat?" Alaric suggested. "I don't think I could take any more repair work at the moment."

"I am a little famished." Krystal decided.

"Alright then, sounds like a plan." Alaric grinned and walked off.

Krystal followed after him until they entered what looked like the ship's dining area. It was a surprisingly large chamber, and was even more surprisingly, in rather good shape. Almost nothing seemed to be off, besides the heavy amount of dust. Alaric spent a long time cleaning the room and making sure that everything still worked. When he was finished he told her to wait there and walked off, a few minutes later he returned with a large crate labeled simply_ Foodstuff_.

"Well, let's see what you cornerians have to eat." Alaric said eagerly and pried the crate open with his hands. Alaric looked into the container and slowly began to frown. "MRE's…." He sighed sadly. "I was hoping for some real food." He muttered disappointedly.

Krystal giggled at his reaction. "What exactly were you hoping for?"

"You know, pills that turned into full meals, freeze dried ice cream, food cubes, space stuff." Alaric grumbled.

"That stuff doesn't exist, excluding freeze dried foods. Where have you been for the last few years, in a hole in the ground?" The vixen continued to giggle. But her snickering was quickly hushed when she felt a rapid change in his emotions and noticed that the human became distant and he frowned softly. His crimson eyes began to lose their life and he looked close to tears.

"You could say that." He replied quietly, taking out one of the MRE's and staring at it intently for a reason she could not fathom.

She watched him carefully and felt guilty for causing his little episode.

But whatever it was, the human shrugged it off. "Yeah…I suppose it was a silly notion." He chuckled without mirth and handed her one of the packages. "Sorry, but these are all I got."

"That's fine." She responded softly and began to tear open her meal.

She watched as the human grabbed a random MRE and flopped down dejectedly on one of the chairs. He sat as the other table, opposite of the one she was at. Krystal noticed the distance and realized that her comment, had for whatever reason, wounded him deeply, and that was not her intention at all. She was just trying to find a way to get closer to him so she could learn more. And instead she managed to hit one of his buttons. It was a terrible start to their voyage.

"I'm sorry for laughing, it was rude." She apologized and looked to him with a warm smile.

"It's fine." He retorted a little coldly, disregarding her smile. "You don't understand." The human ripped into the packaging of his meal with surprising force.

"You could always enlighten me." She suggested as friendly as she could sound but was instantly denied.

"No." He grunted harshly before sighing and calming himself down. '"No, that is something I don't want to talk about, not now, and not ever if I can help it. Besides, other people might like to tell their life story to a stranger, but I don't." He said sarcastically.

Krystal winced a little at his scathing comment, but knew that she partly deserved it.

Alaric realized that he was a little more hostile then he should have been and so apologized. "Sorry, but it's a sore subject."

'That is perfectly okay, I know what it's like to be in pain." She replied with a smile.

"You do?" He asked curiously.

She nodded. "Yes, my life has also seen its fair share of suffering."

He looked at her understandingly and replied softly. "I think that goes for most everybody."

"Life is full of love and pain in equal measure, that's what my father always said to me." Krystal told him with a sad smile.

"Never knew my father, or mother, don't know if I have any siblings either." Alaric decided to share a little part of his story. After all, she was telling him something, it was only fair.

Seeing him open up slightly made her unusually happy for some reason. She rather liked the feeling and so she decided to keep talking to him.

They chatted for an hour or so, mostly about small things. He seemed to have an odd amount of questions about the goings on in the galaxy, as if he had been away for years. They would have kept conversing, but the ship's barely functioning alert system announced that they were nearing the ShockPoint gate. Alaric excused himself from their chat and left to get the ship moving.

Krystal watched him depart with. Alaric was turning out to be far more interesting than she had expected. There was something about him that she was attracted to, and she didn't know what it was. But she was going to find out. The vixen was happy that she decided to follow her instinct, it might have led her to something good, something she needed in her life.


	8. Chapter 8

Starfox: Liberation

Chapter 6: Discoveries

_Life is an endless process of self-discovery…_

_-James Gardner_

Alaric was in the engine room of his ship, recalibrating the drive core and making sure that everything was functioning smoothly. The last thing he wanted was for the drive to give out and get stranded somewhere in space. As he worked, he found himself thinking about his guest.

Krystal, the cerulean vixen, was turning out to be interesting. Something about her seemed to calm his demons, even temporarily. Their conversations distracted him from his brooding and his mission. That was both a good and bad thing. It had been a day since they entered the shock gate and they were about a little less than halfway to Katina, with maybe two more days if the computer was functioning properly. From there he would narrow down the location of The Undying, and see what it was that went wrong. Alaric was still puzzling out how he was supposed to balance doing his mission, and keeping her in the dark. He somewhat regretted letting her come with him, but he was glad, however little he truly was, to have the company either way. Silence had a tendency to make one recollect their past.

Alaric took off the observation panel to the core and looked inside the blue glowing matrix. It looked to be functioning perfectly, although he really should replace the outer housing as soon as he could. It was rusted and partially decayed, which was probably breaking half a dozen safety regulations. Thank the lord these Asimov freighters were built to last. Otherwise they might have never been able to get this far.

"Having fun there?" Krystal asked him merrily. The vixen was sitting near the entrance to the reactor room, sipping from a mug of second grade coffee in a plastic mug. It was a part of the MRE's, which meant that it was probably the worst damn coffee ever made. Still, it was better than no coffee at all.

"Not really." Alaric replied grouchily as he turned away from the core. "Maintenance was never my favorite thing."

She grinned while sipping from the mug and flopped her tail on the deck lazily with a soft drumming. "I can see that."

"Oh shut it." The man grunted roughly. He sounded crass and more than a little bit rude, but by now she had come to understand him better and knew that he wasn't really cross with her. Over the course of the trip they seemed to have fallen into a slightly irregular rapport. All though it was prone to rough patches every now and then if anything relating to his past was brought up. Alaric would become viciously defensive.

Most of the reason Alaric was being less confrontational was purely because he unconsciously craved societal interaction. He had been deprived of it for more than seven years. The man was starved of that human connection; ironically it was not a human that he was connecting with. But at the moment, she was the best option and so he forced himself to tolerate her slightly annoying presence. On the plus side, she had a pretty face to look at.

"You know…" He muttered gruffly as he tried his best to clean the outer core of the reactor with solvent and what could be alluded to as a mechanic's steel wool. "You could always pitch in and pull your own damn weight."

The vixen nodded sagely and flicked her tail as she dipped her shapely, cream furred muzzle into her mug and sipped gently. "True…but then you wouldn't be able to say you fixed this ship all by yourself, think how impressed people would be to hear that."

Alaric rolled his crimson eyes as he wiped his brow with an exceptionally dirtier cloth then he started out with. "Uh huh…I think you just don't want to get your paws dirty."

"….Perhaps." The vixen relented after a brief silence eyeing with an air of amusement, as if she found all of this to be entertaining.

Alaric scoffed and turned away from her, finishing with the left side of the paneling and starting on the right. "Damn freeloader…." He grumbled to himself as he set about the arduous process of cleaning the large swath of protective bulky armored sheeting that covered the reactor. "Don't even know why I let her come along. Fucking useless…" He continued to gripe irritably, making the azure vixen giggle at his expense.

An hour later, he finished with the dirty task, and eyed the female fox disdainfully as he dusted himself off. "Thanks for the help." He uttered sarcastically.

Krystal smiled brightly and stroked her tail contentedly. "You're most welcome."

Hearing that, he stopped and gave her a hard look. And yet even though his gaze was heated enough to rip hull plating of a battleship, all it did was cause her to smile even more. After a minute, his left eye twitched and he walked away without a word, exiting the compartment.

Krystal sighed and shook her muzzle before speeding after him. "Oh come on, lighten up." She called out to him as he stormed off.

"Starting to think that I was better off in the prison…" He muttered darkly to himself as he thundered down the hall towards the bridge.

She caught up with him and had a difficult time keeping up with his ruthless pace. "Can't you take a joke? I was just playing around, I mean seriously, fun, have you heard of it?" She demanded as she looked up at his unamused face.

"No…" He retorted stiffly.

Her muzzle twisted into disbelief. "Really…?"

"There wasn't much time for _fun_ in my life." He growled and stepped into the bridge. "It was a luxury I could ill afford."

Krystal was baffled. "What do you mean? Everyone has time for fun, how can you not?"

Alaric walked towards the newly repaired captain's chair and placed his hands on the back and looked out to the soft blue aura of shockspace. "Not everyone has a life of pleasure and superfluity, as surprising as that must sound to you." He said irritably. "Sometimes, people are given a shitty hand and they're forced to play it, as was my case."

"But…never…?" She asked in horror. The thought that someone could go their whole life without even a shred of enjoyment was an anathema to her kind hearted nature. She believed that a life without happiness was no life at all.

Alaric paused to give her question some thought. There as not really any time he could recall where he genuinely enjoyed his life. Even now, all he was working towards was the chance to attempt to have a happy life. He guessed that the times he and his men were given to rest before the next mission could be counted as somewhat happy. Yet, there was not much to be happy about when you spent your life killing innocents and those who fought for a better life themselves.

"Never." He told her with a sigh.

The vixen huffed and crossed her arms with a pouty muzzle. That just would not do, she decided. Krystal was going to do something to fix that. "Well, it seems that it is my responsibility to make you have fun." She stated determinedly, slowly growing a smile the more she thought about it.

Alaric openly scoffed at her. "I don't think so."

Krystal's grin deflated, and she looked to him in shock. "What…why not?" She demanded angrily.

"I have neither the time, patience, nor desire to pursue fun." He replied coldly and moved to sit in his chair, which creaked dangerously. "There is far too much for me to worry about to play silly games."

"But that's exactly why you have fun!" Krystal exclaimed loudly and moved to strand in front of him. "Without fun, what point is there to life?"

"Surviving." He responded simply.

'_Clearly this was going to be a challenge_ _than I expected.'_ Krystal thought to herself. The vixen tapped her fuzzy chin with a clawed digit as she tried to think of a way to get the human to open up more and have fun. Then a light flashed in her eyes and her tail began to wag as she had an epiphany.

"What do you like to do?" She asked excitedly.

"Fight." He answered simply.

Krystal's tail ceased its wagging and she rolled her head back in exasperation. "Alright," She tried again, "What else do you enjoy doing? What makes you feel the most relaxed and laid back?"

Alaric took a moment to think about her question. He decided to play along, if nothing more than to amuse her. He thought back to when he had spare time to himself, to what he did when he had that opportunity. Alaric did remember that he liked to sit in the armory and work on his equipment, when he fixed things he felt more at ease and allowed himself to drift off and become distracted by daydreams about a better life. Anything that made him temporarily forget about his life or past was what he supposed made him 'happy'. But that was incredibly vague. It was more of a sentiment than anything else. And because of that he did not know how to classify it in a way she would understand.

"What do you like to do?" He suddenly asked her, flipping the interrogation around.

Krystal was starting to think that he did not understand, and she decided that she would show him the ropes so to speak. "I like to snuggle up in bed and read a book, or have fun with my friends. Oh and sometimes I like to meditate."

Snuggling in bed was definitely a no for Alaric, and he never did things with his men that could be considered fun. And they were not friends, more like a tightly knit family. "Meditation…?" He repeated curiously.

"Yes, sometimes when I have a lot on my mind, I find that sitting down and relaxing was the best thing." She explained quickly, hoping that he would think about it.

But after a moment, Alaric shook his head negatively. "That's not for me." He was a man of action, so sitting around until he felt better did not appeal to him.

Krystal frowned and dropped her tail. There was nothing it seemed that could change him…at least for now. She would pull back and regroup with a better plan. Krystal vowed that she would find a way inside his defenses. There was a normal person locked inside Alaric, and she was going to free him.

Alaric stared at the vixen with concern. He did not like the look on her muzzle one bit. He could tell when someone was planning, and she definitely was churning the gears in her head.

He decided that his time could best be spent working on the bridge and so he stood up from hi chair and walked over to one of the functioning consoles. Alaric brought up a task menu and tried to see if he could somehow eliminate the glitches inside the ship's systems. As he worked diligently, fingers dancing across the two dimensional holographic display, Krystal took his seat and watched him work.

She liked the expression he made whenever he was really going at something. He looked so determined and confident, as if he could fix anything, do anything. And yet, at the same time she could see a faint unhinged air about him, as if he could barely keep a hold on himself let alone something else. Krystal was exceptionally perceptive, especially when it came to people. It was not only because of her latent telepathic power. She had learned it from her father, who was Cerinia's King. He had been an excellent diplomat and empathetic ruler, and he had taught her much before he and the others of her race died. He, along with her mother, had been the driving force in Krystal's life and she missed them dearly every day.

She was so deep in thought, that she did not notice that she had been sitting there for quite some time. Alaric took her out of her musing when he hesitantly shook her shoulder.

"Are you still alive in their?" He asked gruffly and with a hint of amusement in his tone.

Krystal flushed in embarrassment at having been caught so off guard and nodded quickly. "Yes, just lost in thought was all."

Alaric seemed to eye her gently for the first time. "Yes, I suppose we all get lost in thought every now and again. I was just letting you know that I'll be heading back to my cabin."

Alaric did not wait for an answer and walked out of the room, leaving the vixen to her thoughts once more. She watched him depart and leaned back in the chair, which threatened to break if she attempted to lean any farther back. She hummed quietly to herself and thought about the real reason she decided to go with him. Alaric was withholding information from her about that ship. And she was curious to know what exactly that information was. She had heard of the Solarans or humans, (whatever they liked to call themselves), before her homeworld had been destroyed. But due to their far off location, she did not know much about them. But she was willing to bet that they were not all like Alaric. He was something else entirely. He was, perhaps, the strangest man she had ever met, and that was what drew her to him. Something inside of him was not working properly, and she wanted to be the one to make it right again. But in order to do that, she would need to know more about his past, and how it made him what he was now. The problem was, how would she get him to speak, he was hostile if it was brought up. Krystal sat in the chair and patted her tail steadily. It would take some doing, but she felt that she could get him to talk.

Alaric stepped into his cabin and plopped down on the chair pulled up to the desk. His rifle and sword's hilt were laid alongside on the wooden desk and his armor stood up under its own power to the left of his bed. He reached towards the rifle and picked it up, running a hand down the smooth black framework and snapped it open where the barrel started to separate from the main body. He carefully slid out the cylindrical magazine and deposited it on the desk gently.

Alaric liked guns.

They were easy to understand and easy to fix. They had one simple purpose, to defend the life of their owners. They did not talk, complain, cry, berate, nor hate you. And you could always rely on them if you took care of them. Guns could always be fixed, replace parts, oil parts, and it would always keep going….unlike people.

Alaric did not like people.

People were impossible to understand. They had no purpose besides what they give themselves. They talked, complained, cried, berated, and hated. All the ones he had met were unreliable…and they could be broken. And eventually, no matter what you did, at one point they would ultimately and unequivocally cease to function. There was no stopping this, it was inevitable, a fact of life. It did not matter if they had fur, scales, skin, gills, paws, flippers, hands, muzzles, snouts, faces. They all had a limited time in this universe. And there was absolutely nothing one could do to stop it.

Worst of all, they formed _attachments _with one another. It was also a fact of life. People need other people; they need to not be alone. But, with attachments come consequences. If the ones you are attached to die, the pain you feel is almost physical and debilitating. It haunts you till your dying days, and the only way to escape this is to either distance yourself from others until you die or hope to perish before they do.

Alaric did not like pain.

And yet pain was something he was unfortunately all too familiar with. He had been born into pain, raised with pain, taught with pain, and ordered to inflicted pain. His life was a seemingly unending cycle of pain.

As Alaric sat at the desk and fiddled with his weapons. He thought about his life. What was there to becoming free? He would inevitably experience loss and pain. It was an unalterable and factually assumption. What was truly the difference between freedom and damnation? To be free is to be in pain. And to be shackled it to be in pain. So why would one want to experience either…why did they not just end it?

The answer was simple.

_**Fear.**_

Fear of the unknown, fear of what lies beyond the end, fear of what death. That is what stayed the slice of the knife, the pull of the trigger, the leap into the abyss.

Fear was what kept people alive, it was the one thing that every living thing shared. Everyone fears something.

To be fair with Alaric's dark conclusion about life, the human had never experienced the joy that life brought that often counteracted the terrors it carried. He had not experienced family, friendship…love. Those were foreign concepts he could not come to terms with. Concepts he barely grasped the meaning of. They were so strange as to almost be abhorrent. He considered those things to be flaws when they are in fact…our greatest strengths.


End file.

Dead Space, Star Fox, Drama, Sci-Fi