FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Lylat Wars: XXX

Chapter 1

Sponsored by Roureem

By Draconicon

The cockpit rattled around Fox as his ship spun to the left. Laser blasts shot over his wings, barely missing the engine and hitting the ruined buildings streaking past his sides. Windows exploded, skyscrapers rattled, and more debris fell behind him.

"Two on your tail, Fox," Bill muttered.

"Three, from my count," Fox grunted back. "Gimme a second."

"Need a hand?"

"No, I think I...got it!"

A wrench of the control stick, and he lost one of them on a sudden turn. His ship cut right and his pursuers didn't quite have the same turning radius. One shot right past, one followed, and the third exploded on the abandoned building behind him.

"Down to one," he chuckled.

"Yeah, ain't none."

"It's about to be."

Up, down, left, right, left, right. Subtle variations, little twitches of the stick to keep the fighter-craft behind him from getting a lock on him. Too narrow a path for him to get completely clear, but enough to give him that space. Couldn't go high without grabbing the attention of enemy anti-air weapons, and that meant that he was trapped in the trench that the high buildings created.

"How you getting out of this one, Fox?"

"You'll see, Bill."

"Yeah? You got a new trick?"

"Something like that."

Another green blast shot over the cockpit, nearly taking it off. Fox shook his head, pumping two levers with his feet and pulling the stick.

His ship screamed as the brakes cut the thrust by more than two-thirds, pulling his nose up and his end down. The ship fell, dropping, dropping, and the enemy shot right over him. Fox pulled the trigger, and the explosion that followed cracked more of the buildings apart with the shockwave.

"That's none."

"Yeah, but you're going down."

"Yeah?"

Fox released the brakes, throttled everything back to full, and -

The screen went black.

He stared at the static cockpit screen as the whole simulation shut down, finally sighing and shaking his head as the cockpit opened up. Bill and several other students were waiting outside, and the bulldog had his arms crossed with a too-wide smirk on his face.

"Told you that you were going down."

"Oh, screw that," Fox said, hopping out of the cockpit. "That maneuver would have worked on a real ship."

"Nothing has that sort of fast-start, Fox. The whole thing is coded exactly to the specifications of the Cornerian fleet."

"Well, um, actually..."

Fox and Bill turned as a green-skinned frog poked his head out from behind the simulator. Slippy rubbed the back of his head.

"Uh, nevermind..."

"Uh-uh, can't just leave us hanging like that, Slip." Fox smiled. "Go on. Tell him."

"Well, uh, you know, the simulators are programmed to the specifications of the real ships, but, uh...well, they are kept pretty...conservative. The brake and speed specs are pretty toned-down compared to the real thing, and there's, uh, a few theoretical ways that you could do what Fox was doing. In a real ship, at least, one that's not programmed to shut down at suboptimal levels."

"It's programmed to do that because it'll blow up if it's still active on landing," Bill pointed out. "Keeps it from becoming a bomb for stupid pilots. Or hot-shots like you."

"Tell me that when I pull it off for real." Fox shook his head. "Anyway, I beat you. Again."

"The only one that can, heh. Always pushing me to get better."

"Someone has to."

Bill chuckled, waving away the other students. Now that the show was over and the two best aces in Academy were clearly not going to get into a fight over who was better, there wasn't any reason to stick around.

Honestly, Fox usually preferred it that way. There was a time and place where his McCloud name and the popularity that came with it was pretty enjoyable - hell, he'd enjoyed the tail that he'd been able to get down at the bars just by saying who he was - but when it came down to getting respect, he preferred to earn it. If he'd gone through the Academy and just gotten a commission because of his father's name, he would have hated himself.

As it stood, he'd gotten in because of the McCloud name, but he was earning his stripes. Every simulation ended with either him or Bill taking the top spot, and he got the top rank six times out of ten, with Bill getting the other four. Nobody else came close.

"So...heard anything from your dad?" Bill asked.

"..."

"Sorry, forget -"

"Nah, it's fine."

Fox shook his head, leaning back against the simulator shell. He tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling.

"Nothing yet, but, you know. He shipped out about...what, a month ago? He's still got a week before he gets to the mission."

"Nothing on the airwaves?"

"Not that I've heard, heh. Classified, probably."

"Damn."

"Could be worse. Could be getting snapped up and put on patrol somewhere instead of scouting...wherever he's gone."

The bulldog nodded, patting his shoulder sympathetically. Fox shrugged with a fake smile.

Truth be told, it was a little harsh to have to deal with his dad disappearing on one mission after another. The StarFox team was always in demand by the Cornerian Defense Force, particularly since the last Venomian war, and they were always going hither and yon throughout the system to put out little fires that kept flaring up from sympathizers.

The last time that Fox had spent more than a month with his dad had been at the end of the last war, when he was thirteen years old, and they'd had almost half a year together to enjoy each other's company again. He'd gone flying with the older fox, sitting in the back of a shuttle rather than the fighter-craft that his dad usually used, but the maneuvers that the old man had shown off had been...life changing. He remembered the adrenaline from that, from the feeling of being in the air, and he had craved it ever since.

But, much as he didn't like the long gaps between seeing his father, he made it work. Usually.

"You got anything planned tonight?" Bill asked.

Fox glanced at Slippy out of the corner of his eye. When the frog gave him a surreptitious thumbs-up, he smiled.

"Yeah. Big plans."

"Heh, and here I was thinking you'd be sticking around to study."

"Since when do I do that?"

"Well, there's more to life than flying, Fox. You never know; you might pass the flight test, but who knows what kind of job you'll get if you can't pass the written ones. Officer-hood isn't just about shooting the bad guys down."

He shrugged.

"Well, on your own head be it."

The bulldog chuckled despite himself, shaking his head, and Fox smirked. They both knew where the chips fell.

"Hey, at least come by my dorm later," Bill said. "Got a couple of drinks that I need to get rid of, anyway, and could use a little help chugging them down."

"Now that I can promise."

Sharing a quick handshake, Bill turned on his heel and walked out. The Simulator Room went quiet without anyone else around, the various cockpit shells powered down and closed. Fox chuckled, shaking his head as he remembered the first week at the Academy. Not one of the shells had been inactive, and the reservations to use them were backed out for weeks for anyone that wanted to get some practice in. Everyone had been fascinated by the hyper-realistic sims, wanting to get their time in and prove themselves.

Most of them stopped when it became clear that the officers were chosen less from the sims and more from the test scores. Considering where the pay went, most of the other prospective soldiers in his year hit the books like Bill did. He knew that most of the teachers expected him to do the same, but for Fox, all he cared about was passing. The high grades that they looked for to select officers didn't matter to him; all that mattered was getting enough to get out of the Academy at the end of it.

He belonged in the air, in the stars, but not at the bridge of some big ship. He wanted a fighter. That was all he needed.

"So, uh...you and Bill..."

"Hmm?" Fox blinked. "Sorry, Slip, I was - what was that?"

"Are you two, uh..."

The frog tapped his fingers together. Fox blinked, then sputtered with laughter.

"Oh god, me and him? What, you think we're going at it behind closed doors?"

"Well, um, everyone else thinks so. They think that all the rivalry means that you guys, well, uh...bang."

Fox shook his head, still chuckling as he looked down the hall Bill had left through. It wasn't the first time that he'd heard people thought that they were involved, but it was the first time that he'd heard that someone else was buying into the whole idea.

"Nah, never did anything like that with him. Shared a girl one time, but that's as far as it went," Fox said with a rueful shake of his head. "And we were both very, very drunk that time. I don't think that he's got that sort of interest, anyway."

"...But you do?"

He blinked, slowly turning to look back at the frog. Slippy immediately looked away, his face burning red, a tint even brighter than the red mechanic bodysuit that he wore.

"Uh, forget that I -"

"I'm going to have to watch what I say around you, heh. I keep forgetting how smart you are, Slip."

Wasn't the first time that he had considered having some fun with another guy. The Academy was good for one thing other than learning how to pilot ships, and that was figuring out who you were. Showering with a bunch of other adults had gone a long way towards showing him that there wasn't that much of a difference between looking at male asses or female asses, and both of them looked pretty appealing from behind.

Didn't know how he felt about other dicks, he had to admit, but all things considered, it wasn't like he was going to get a lot of opportunities around the Academy to figure that one out. They were pretty restricted after class hours, and just going down to Bill's dorm to get some booze was going to be pushing his luck a little bit. He'd have to make sure that nobody caught him in the process of going there or coming back, and they'd have to be quiet when they were in the room, too. But it would be worth it; Bill always had the good stuff.

"So, Falco got back to you, huh?" Fox said, changing the subject. "We still on for the night?"

"Mm-hmm. Down at the Rodder tonight."

"Heh, figures. Always the racing bars with that bird," he muttered. "Yeah. I'll be there. Meet you at the usual place for new clothes and everything?"

"You got it."

Slippy raised a hand, and Fox gave him the usual high-five. A little childish, but that was the frog all over.

As Slippy jogged off, probably heading to another training session with the other mechanics, Fox couldn't help but remember how they'd met. First day of the first semester, Slippy had come up and started the same hero-worshiping as everyone else that found out who his dad was. Hadn't been that interesting starting out, but when Fox started talking about his dad's ships...

Well, Slippy was a soft guy, but when it came to tech details, there was a damn stiff streak of stubbornness in that amphibian. Every little detail that Fox had wrong, Slippy had corrected without a second though. Embarrassment and shyness faded to total confidence, backed up with fact on fact, and the fox had found himself completely dumbfounded with the sheer number of details that the frog had to hand.

They'd developed a friendship out of that. While he and Bill bonded over their mutual skill in the cockpit - and the fact that the bulldog didn't give two shits about who Fox's dad was - Slippy was worth keeping around for the fact that he was never going to lie about anything. He had that childish loneliness, but also that childish honesty.

And he liked that.

Got a few hours to kill, Fox thought. Might as well -

"Fox McCloud."

The slightly gravelly, older voice could only come from one person. Fox turned his head slowly to see a familiar long-eared bloodhound looking around the nose of the simulator. He stood up straight and snapped a salute.

"General Pepper."

"At ease, soldier."

"Not a soldier yet," he said, lowering his hand to his side. "Barely a cadet."

"Heh, yes. And yet, you're impressing everyone else in the Academy, from what I heard."

Buttering me up already, he thought, suppressing the urge to shake his head. Yeah, I bet I know where this is going.

"From everything I've seen, you're already on the same path to greatness that your father's taken. I'm hoping that we can see you in the Defense Force, Fox; you'd be a true credit to an ancient tradition, wherever you end up."

"I'd like that, sir, but, heh, I still have a while before I graduate."

"Well, technically, yes."

"...Sir?"

"There are ways to fast-track you to where you need to be," the General said, chuckling as he adjusted his cap and folded his hands behind his back. "The military has its ways of getting what it wants, Fox, if the talent and the will is there to make it worth it. If you're interested in being part of the Defense Force...it's possible that we can get you into an officer's position in three months."

Three months. That was a record, as far as he knew; he still had at least a year of schooling left before he was supposed to graduate, let alone be offered any kind of position within the Defense Force or one of the many mercenary companies that took contracts from them. His head spun as he imagined what that would be like, but -

"The prestige of the McCloud name would be a morale boost like nothing else, Fox. And there are many officers that would enjoy having you under them."

Right...the name again.

Fox nodded, hoping it looked understanding rather than irritated as he marshaled his thoughts. He wasn't going to take it now, particularly not with his father still out of contact, but it was something to consider. Something that might actually be worth it, under the right circumstances, but as it stood -

"I will keep that in mind, General."

"I can't promise it forever, Fox, but do."

"Before you go...have you heard anything from my father?"

"The mission's classified -"

"I know. But I already know some stuff," Fox said. "I know he took one of the hyperspace lanes out of Corneria, but he didn't take one of the main ones. He took it to the asteroid field. He's not going to one of the neighbors; he's going to the far side."

"..."

"He should have been there three days ago," Fox said. "I've been lying when people ask me, but I know something's going on. He doesn't just avoid calling home. What's going on, General?"

"...It's classified."

"...I see."

The silence stretched on between them. Fox knew that there was no real reason that the General could inform him about this, nor should the General do anything of the sort. A cadet wasn't supposed to know that this mission was happening in the first place, and the fact that he wasn't in trouble for knowing spoke a lot to the privilege that he was given. Getting anything else would have been breaking more laws than even the bloodhound seemed willing to bend.

It didn't mean that he liked it, though, and he had to force himself to be understanding about it. He nodded, pushing himself away from the simulator.

"If that's everything, then...I'll be on my way."

#

He met Slippy at the old Memorial off-base, a good two miles from the dorms and a half-mile from the front gates of the Academy. The frog was there with a bag of street clothes, having already changed into a white t-shirt and vest, with baggy pants that were hardly the most fashionable. Fox chuckled to himself as he took his bundle from inside, separating the different pieces as he rolled his eyes.

"All the choice in the world and you pick that."

"It's comfortable," Slippy protested.

"Yeah, but I'll bet that it doesn't get you any girls."

"It's not supposed - I mean...shut up."

Fox hid a smirk as he pulled off his uniform. One piece at a time, from the buttoned-up formal shirt to the black boots to the dark brown trousers; they all hit the ground, leaving him in the fading light in nothing but his underwear. He stretched out, sighing as he felt the tension rippling off his shoulders. Just taking the damn uniform off made him feel better after the talk with the General. Not dealing with the military's bullshit made him feel like a new man in comparison.

As he brought his arms back down, he caught Slippy staring at him out of the corner of his eye. The frog immediately looked away, turning around and looking anywhere else, but Fox still caught the first little glance. Right down at his crotch, too, and as he turned - yep, there it was, a sidelong glance at his ass.

Well, that explains that question, doesn't it?

He filed that away. Not that he was bothered with Slippy being interested in him, but that was something that he'd have to address at some future point. Whatever Slippy felt for him, they'd have to hash out. He doubted that they'd ever get around to having sex - and he wasn't even sure that he wanted something like that from Slippy, of all people - but he wanted to get that out in the open so that it didn't start festering between them. Emotions were already complicated enough; they didn't need some sudden sabotage because someone felt slighted or ignored.

Shaking his head, Fox dressed up in a bright red shirt, one that clung to him and showed off all the lean muscles that he'd built up in the Academy gym, and a pair of tight green shorts that left his legs from the knees down exposed. White boots - much less formal than the Academy ones - completed the look, and he turned around in a circle.

"So, how do I look?"

"Uh, not like a pilot..."

"Good. That's what we're trying to avoid. Come on. Let's get to the Rodder."

It wasn't a long trip. The Rodder was one of those dive bars that always popped up around military areas; either the soldiers wanted to come down to let loose, or the thugs that thought that they could take on the cops came here to put themselves to the test against the military on their off-time. Either way, it was a tough-guy bar, and either you were going there, or you were avoiding it. Kept the streets clear around the area.

The outside gleamed with familiar neon lights. Static illuminated ship-shapes flew in flickering lines around the one tall spire shooting out from the building, eventually disappearing on the heights. Ground vehicles were parked around the front door, and a few aircraft were locked in place along the sides of the narrow, long building.

Fox recognized a couple of them from Falco's gang, and he knew that the bird had already beaten them here. He rolled his eyes as he walked between the speeders, Slippy following behind with a much slower pace. The thicker frog had to be careful to avoid knocking them down, he supposed; the gang got a little touchy about that.

As soon as he pushed the door open, the thudding beat of a down-market 'dance' club slammed into his chest. Even bracing himself against it, he still felt the thud, thud, thud that tried to set his heart to pounding and the pressure against his ribs. Fox chuckled as he looked around the room, seeing men and women in latex and leather, various species either clustered up at the bar and chugging cheap drinks or down on the dance floor in front of the cages, grinding up on each other.

"Well, looks like it's business as usual," Fox said. "Come on, Slip."

"Coming..."

The frog followed him through the crowd. It didn't take long for some of them to recognize him; thug or employee, they had seen him enough times to know who he was. Without the Academy uniform, he was able to avoid the assholes that'd come for the 'rich boy' that was 'slumming it' with them, and only had to deal with the ass-kissers.

"Mmm, what are you doing down here tonight, McCloud?" a raccoon girl asked, sidling up and gently taking his arm, pulling it around her waist. "I thought you'd be keeping all the girls on-base busy."

"Heh, maybe I like someone that knows what they're doing?" he teased. "And you look like you know a lot."

"Mmm, maybe."

She was a sultry thing, a little thick in the hips and stomach, but with the sort of breasts he knew would make someone feel good when they got trapped between them. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if Slippy was watching, but the frog was already trying not to stare, looking anywhere else. Which, honestly, was probably for the best; he had options here, and he didn't have to take the first one.

"You know where Falco is?"

"Lombardi?" She chuckled. "Why do you want him?"

"We've got some business tonight. And you know what they say."

"Business before pleasure." She chuckled. "I get you. He's at the bar. If he's not disappeared with that pink cat to the VIP room already."

So, Katt's visiting. Good to know.

Disentangling himself from the raccoon, he waved for Slippy to follow and pushed through the rest of the crowd. There were other women - and some men - that pushed in, including a mouse-boy that looked almost too young for the place and a bull that looked like he would have wanted some fox ass rather than some fox dick. He managed to avoid them all and eventually found the falcon waiting for them.

It wasn't a surprise to see the bird with a lady on his lap; the man was always flirting when he wasn't racing, and Katt was one of the few girls that could keep up with him. The blue-and-red feathered hot-shot leaned back in his bar stool, one feathered hand on Katt's ass and the other clutching a beer. Fox chuckled as he walked up to his old friend.

"Working a little fast, aren't you?" he said, sliding onto another stool.

"Heh, it's either fast, or not at all," Falco said, putting his beer down. "I was starting to wonder if you and Slip were going to show up or not."

"Well, not like me to miss a party down here."

"Or a party at all, from what I'm hearing. You picking up a gang of your own?"

"Where the hell did you hear something like that?"

"Hey, man, just saying. Word gets around when you start picking up tail..."

"Flings, Falco, flings," Fox said, shaking his head. "And it's just a way to kill time. I made it very clear to all of them that it was a one-time thing."

"Heh, not the way that the streets are talking about it. And -"

Katt interrupted the bird, leaning in and pulling his beak around for a kiss. Fox smirked; he always liked the way that the feline pushed Falco to keep his attention on her. The one woman that the bird never quite had under his thumb, and the one person that made him work for it. Had to be someone that could do it.

As he waited for them to stop lip-locking, he glanced around for Slippy. The frog had disappeared in the crowd, but here and there, he caught sight of his mechanic's green skin. He was up at the cages, watching some of the dancers - and the male ones, at that. More confirmation of some of that interest.

Well, if you're going to get anyone tonight, Slip, this would be the place to do it.

Katt finally broke the kiss with Falco, sliding off his lap and swaying her hips. Her leather pants were so tight that Fox was pretty sure that he could just about make out her pussy lips in the front, but it was dark enough that it was hard to tell. She chuckled, tossing her head.

"So, boys. Is it going to be just me and Falco tonight, or are you joining us, Fox?"

"Tempting, but I'll pass."

"Hmmm, you sure?" she asked, a purr in her voice. "Falco's been a little...lazy lately."

"The hell I've been lazy; you're just insatiable," the bird said, chuckling.

"Again, tempting, but I'll pass tonight."

"Pity." Katt flicked her hair back. "Falco, you know where to find me when you're ready."

"That I do. That I do."

"She's in good spirits," Fox said as the feline walked off. "So...you ready for the big event?"

"Oh, I am. The question is, are you?"

Fox chuckled, leaning against the bar with crossed arms. The barman came by, offering him a bottle of beer, and he waved it off.

"Falco, I've been looking forward to this all month. Those simulators are driving me crazy, you know that? They're nothing like the real thing. Every single time I try something new, they cut out and send me crashing. I need the real thing. The real, real thing, not some copy that plays it safe all the time."

"You're gonna lose, you know that?"

"Oh, to you?"

"Hey. You might be able to beat all those Academy schmucks, but this is the real thing, here," Falco said, gesturing to himself with a sweeping motion. "They train on machines. I run my gang on shit faster than they'd ever touch, on runs that they'd be too piss-scared to even look at. Yeah, you can fly it...but I bet you can't beat me."

"You wanna bet?"

"I'd bet Katt's ass on it."

"Yeah, if you had it," Fox said, laughing as he looked away. "Last I heard, she wasn't letting anyone in that hole."

"Okay, fine. Then I'll let you take a pick of the rest of my gang."

"...Tempting."

"Okay, what do you want?"

"...If I win, you get me a line off-planet. Guaranteed connection anywhere in the Lylat System," Fox said. "And if you win, whatever. Pick what you like."

"What do you want that for?"

"Doesn't matter."

"...Heh, guess it doesn't," Falco said. "Because you're not going to win."

"Well, shall we stop wasting time and find out?" He pushed himself back from the bar. "Or do you need to sober up before you grab the stick?"

"Let's do it."

They walked away together, and despite the pounding music and the dancers and everyone putting on a show, more than half the customers in the bar watched them. It wasn't the first time it had happened; Falco had a gravitas to him that attracted other reckless assholes, and they gave him a strange sort of respect that never seemed to run out.

The pair of them walked out of the bar, the sudden silence bringing with it a strange lightheadedness. He shook his head, hearing the door open and close behind them again. Slippy, probably, wanting to be part of the race. Or at the very least, probably wanting to look at what they were racing in.

What'd you get for this, Falco? Better be something better than the speeders from last time. That was just -

Fox's thoughts stopped dead in their tracks as he walked around the corner. His eyes went wide as he saw the frames that were waiting. No armor plating, no weapons, but with the same conical shape that he remembered from so long ago, and with the same huge engine shell at the back. He held out a shaking hand as he approached the nearer of the two hulls, unable to speak. Slippy more than made up for that.

"Holy - those are Arwing shells!" the frog shouted, hands clapped to his cheeks. "Holy shit, where the hell did you get those?!"

"Heh, my gang did a favor for some scrap lord," Falco said, leaning on the other one. "No weapons - these things were disarmed before they were scrapped out - but the engine still works, and so do most of the other systems. We've been patching 'em up for the last three weeks to make sure that they'd be ready for this."

An Arwing. An older, less beautiful model, and barely more than the frame and a sealed cockpit and engine, but it was the same sort of ship that his father flew. He remembered the rumble of the ship beneath him, the way that the wings had caught and cupped the wind to carry them ever higher, and the spins and laughs that had come with every twist and turn.

Slippy was spouting one stat after another about the ships, but he was already running his finger along the cockpit cover. He found the release catch and pulled it, and the soft click and hiss as it opened made him flinch.

"Fox?" Slippy asked. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, he's good," Falco said, chuckling. "I know that look. It's like a high, isn't it?"

"God, yes..."

"So, think that you can keep up with me in this thing?"

"...Oh, you're going down."

If he was flying in an Arwing, then there was no way that he was losing. They'd raced before, going through the city with speeders, with hoverbikes, with stolen hover-cars, and once, they'd even managed to take a joyride in Academy ships without anyone catching them...but this was something special.

This was his ship, and he'd show Falco just what kind of pilot he was.

The End

Summary: Welcome to the story of Fox's time at the Academy, and a much more adult telling of the Lylat Wars. Let's introduce some of our cast, shall we?

Tags: No Sex, Staring, Underwear, Strippers, Falco, Falco Lombardi, Fox, Fox McCloud, Slippy, Slippy Toad, Frog, Star Fox 64, Starfox, Rule 34, Impending Sex, Fun Offerings, Academy, Crush, Series, Sponsored,