Post by doomsdaylee on May 17, 2009 1:56:18 GMT -5
This takes placed after Star Fox Command, following the ending where Krystal becomes Kursed.
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In a deep, dark corner of the Lylat system there was a bar. This bar was filled to the brim with criminals and cut-throats and worse. This was the hang-out of most of the scum of the Universe. As if to brag this fact, the full northern wall was covered in bounty posters, often of the regulars of the bar. One of which was a young looking ferret with a scar going over his right ear from where it was sliced wide open. He had gray fur, and he wore black jeans, a red tanktop, and a brown trench-coat. He sat at the bar currently, nursing his drink, looking into it, a look of contemplation on his face. He wasn't truly thinking of anything he was just letting his mind wander. He knew something was going to happen, the room just seemed off. His eyes slowly scanned the room, trying to identify what was wrong. Suddenly, beside him, a large, scarred bulldog slammed a glass of alcohol next to him, shocking the ferret. The Bulldog grinned, leaning down.
"What's a little boy doing here?" He asked, looking back to an Possum and a Rat, both of whom grinning.
"I'm not sure." The Ferret responded, not looking away from his drink, "Where's your mother? I'll ask her."
"What's that? Punk? You got somethin' to say you little weasel? Why don't you- Errk!" The bulldog stopped, encouraged by the blaster under his chin, causing both the Rat and the Possum to jump, and go to help their leader.
"Listen, bub. I'm going to level with you. I don't like you. You smell funny, you're an ass, and, quite frankly, your ugly. To top it all off, it...reeeaallly pisses me off when people call me a weasel. I mean, after all, it can't be that hard to tell the difference between a weasel and a ferret."
"Who do you think you are pal!?" The rat said, stepping forwards.
"Pictures are worth a thousand words." The ferret nodded to the north wall, and on it was his picture. Below it, it read:
Cyrus Orion
Wanted Dead or Alive for mass murder, destruction and theft of Cornarian property, and terrorist acts.
100,000 Credits alive
50,000 Credits dead.
However, over the front of the poster, over his face, the word "Kursed" was written in red. The Bulldog, Rat, and Possum all gulped, as the general rule of the bar was: The higher your bounty was worth, the more respect you got. Cyrus pulled his blaster away, downing his drink in one gulp. At least he knew what was off. KURSED hadn't been there before. "Now, piss off." He said to them, They hastily oblidged. He rose is finger, and the bartender brought over a second shot-glass full of his favorite drink.
"On the house." The bartender said. "I don't charge dead men."
"Dead men? A bounty hunter can't spell and I'm a dead man?" The name on his picture was a tag. Bounty Hunters typically wrote their name, or a tag on the poster of the person they were hunting.
"No, Kursed is spelt right. It's a name. A bounty hunters name. One of the best in the business. Once his name appears on a poster, that person never shows up again."
"Issat so? Urban Legend?"
"No, fact. I've seen it more times than I can count. You must be some kind-of evil thought. I've heard he only goes after the scum of the universe."
"Some people think so." Cyrus said, downing this drink to. "Shame this doesn't have much of a kick to it. But, I think I should get going."
"You were a good customer Cy. Never started nothin', but you didn't let punks walk all ova you."
"Don't start talking about me like I'm dead mac."
"You might as well be. See you in hell Cy."
"Later." Cyrus flicked two fingers in farewell, walking out of the bar, heading for his ship. His ship was a heavily modified Cornarian fighter. It had been modified with a Zapper laser, instead of the much, much less powerful single, and a single lock. The ship, the Procyon Tempest, had served him well for years, and through countless modifications, most done for the weapons system. Cyrus never seemed happy with his ships offencive capabilities, however, this seemed fine. The only problem with this current set-up was that his manuverability suffered, badly. This was due to the armor and the weapons, both weighing down the ship.
'This is a combat ship.' Cyrus mused as he climbed in, readying the ship for take off. Cyrus was heading to his hide-out, his home.
About an hour into the flight, near the floating bunch of wreckage that concealed the entrance to his hide-out, Cyrus was leaning back in his seat, Suddenly a loud blast sounded out, an explosion shaking the Tempest from the rear. Cyrus was launched forewards into the console, his head hitting the controls. Looking over his shoulder, grunting and mumbeling complaints at the blood seeping into his eyes. Behind his ship flew a Pterodactyl shaped ship, fireing at him. Another explosion hit his ship, his console bleeping an alarm, signifying that is ship was going down, falling towards a nearby cliff on a planet below.
"Shit!" Cyrus cursed, pulling back on the controls to the ship, trying to get the nose horizontal, so that he wouldn't lose the tempest, or die. He had just gotten the nose facing the horizion as the ship slammed into the ground, shattering the glass, and started it's path towards the cliff. He shouted another curse, and killed the engine, letting the ship grind across the terrain, letting the ship slow. As soon as the Tempest ground to a stop, he leapt from the ship, and ran, just as the wooshing of a ship blew overhead. Whoever this person was, he was on Cyrus' tail. Cyrus bolted, running towards the cliff-face, and jumped onto a cliff, backing into a small cave as he heard the ship land above him, near the wreckage of his ship. Cyrus gulped a little, backing up as he heard footsteps above him. Suddenly a loud crack rang out, and Cyrus felt a wetness on his foot. He looked down, lifting and shaking his foot, trying to rid it of the green gunk that now covered it. He looked at the broken item he had stepped in. Whatever it was, it had looked like a rock before he put his foot in it. Unfourtunantly, whoever was after him seemed to hear the sound, and dropped down on the cliff, turning around, the planet's twin suns making it to bright to see who he was, a silloette against the bright light was all that was visable. Cyrus drew his blaster from under his coat, aiming it at the bounty hunter.
"You're worth a lot more to me alive than dead, don't be stupid." She sai...Wait, she!? Cyrus shook his head. No way, a female bounty hunter? It slowly, suddenly, started to come to him. A female bounty hunter named Kursed. Just as he thought this, the female walked from the sun, a blaster trained on hi. The female moved confidently, but not stupidly. She was a vixen, and her fur was a dark blue, with gray fur on her belly. She wore a black leather top, one that only covered her well-shaped breasts, and her pants were black leather as well, coming to just below her tail, Her tail was long, and tipped in that gray color, just as her belly. One blaster holster on her hip was empty. but the other had the same, brand new blaster model that was currently pointed at Cyrus' heart. On her back were two guns, a shotgun model, and a sniper rifle model. Both brand new. Her eyes, however, caught Cyrus' eyes. Her (color) eyes reflected massive sadness and regret, hidden just behind her eyes, as if she had some horrible past that she never wanted to remember. However, Cyrus could tell that it wouldn't hold her back from killing him if need be.
"Oh, such shame I feel. You know my name, but I only think I know yours. You are Kursed, I assume?"
"Yes, now let's not be stupid, and drop your blaster." She told him harshly, no humor in her voice. She kept the blaster trained on his heart, no wavering in her hands.
"And if I don't? I know you won't shoot me for that." Cyrus countered, aiming his blaster at her head. "Bounty hunters, ha! All you care about is your next paycheck, so you won't half that by shooting me for not dropping my weapon." As he finished saying this, a blast was fired, hitting Cyrus in the belly. Cyrus yelped, doubleing over as the blast hit him, burning a hole through his shirt and into his belly, narrowly missing his coat. Kursed reacted quickly, running forwards, dropping her blaster, and quickly disarming him. Cyrus brought his elbow up, elbowing her in the stoumach and pushing her back. He followed her, not letting her get any time, and reaching for her shotgun. Kursed pushed a palm into his blaster wound, hard, causing him to shout in pain, but not pushing him back. She growled, repeating her action, this time pushing the Ferret away. Pulling her shotgun, Cyrus saw a breif moment to pull his trump card. Reaching into his coat, Cryus retreived a two inch disk-like object from his coat, grinning.
"Stop now!" He called to her, pushing a button on the disk, making it begin to beep. Kursed did, glaring at him. "Stop, or I'll blow us both strait to Venom." Kursed ground her teeth.
"That alone won't do anything." She challenged, pumping the shot-guns barrel once. Cyrus shrugged, opening his coat. Within, the coat was lined with more of these disks. Bombs. Many, many bombs. Kursed gulped quietly. "You wouldn't."
"Better a dead bounty-head than a living prisoner. Now, leave. before the timer runs out. You have sixty seconds." He warned. Kursed was silent, looking at him quietly. She than smirked. "And don't think of just killing me, this bomb needs to be disarmed by me and me alone, or else it'll go off in about fourty-five sec-" He was cut off by a shot-gun blast, aimed above him. The rocks above him crumbled, and parts of the debris hit him in the head, and his world went black.
When Cyrus awoke, he heard the familar humming of a ship flying through space in no hurry. He went to rub his head, but found his hands bound, his wrists tied togehter. His ankles had the same, but his mouth was un-gagged. He felt warm, and looked up, and around to see the world around him. He was behind a seat, in a small co-pilot seat. He groaned, shaking his head."Finally woke up, hm?" Kursed asked, her voice floating over the seat. "I see my peaceful flight is over."
"Yeah. How'd you survive the bomb?"
"You're still sticking with that lie? We both know the bomb had no detonator. It was a nice try, I'll give you that, but, no matter how much explosives are packed into a bomb, without a detonator, it's not going to go off without a shot from a blaster."
"...How'd you know that?" He asked quietly.
"You arn't the only bomb expert in space." She responded, as if the fact was obvious. Cyrus accepted this for now, putting his head back down. He was down to just his pants, so he didn't have many options. All he could do now was wait for an oppertunity to escape.
"So, where are we going? I think I'd like to know where I have to hide when I break away from you and escape."
"Fat chance, but we're going to Cornaria."
"Oh yay, because I'm such a living legend there." Cyrus said sarcasticly. Kursed said nothing, just continuing to fly. Suddenly, from behind, a blast hit the flyer, shattering one of the engines. Cyrus was slammed against the back of Kursed seat. "Why does this keep happening to me!?" He shouted at no one in particular. Kursed cursed.
"Who the hell!?" She demanded, turning the ship around, only to find herself face to face with an armada of large warships. Cyrus used his elbows to prop himself up enough to see.
"Damn, you must've really pissed someone off." Cyrus said with a grin. "I can only imagine why."
"They're not after me..." She said quietly, more to herself. "Not specificly."
"Expound." He told her, looking to her. Looking back, Kursed realised she spoke aloud.
"Think about it you idiot. Who would send an army after one bounty hunter?"
"The last person you screwed? Litterally or figurativly." Kursed grit her teeth, but kept her blasted in it's holster, and not at his temple.
"Keep that up, and I may decide I don't need as much money as I thought." She warned. "This is a Venomian fleet, They're heading strait for Cornaria..."
"Looks like it's my lucky day." Cyrus remarked, another blast slamming into the back of the ship. "Well, either way, they seem pretty pissed off at you, so let's make a deal. You get us out of here, and I'll not die, how's that sound?" Kursed let out a small growl, turning the ship towards the nearby planet of Kew, and boosting towards it, avoiding the laser-fire from the small ships that swarmed out of the war-ships.
Once Kursed landed on the thick jungle planet, she pushed open the top, grabbed Cyrus by the crook of his arm, and jerked him out of the ship.
"Hey, hey! Watch the goods."
"Shut up." Kursed said simply, wasting no words on the ferret.
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In a deep, dark corner of the Lylat system there was a bar. This bar was filled to the brim with criminals and cut-throats and worse. This was the hang-out of most of the scum of the Universe. As if to brag this fact, the full northern wall was covered in bounty posters, often of the regulars of the bar. One of which was a young looking ferret with a scar going over his right ear from where it was sliced wide open. He had gray fur, and he wore black jeans, a red tanktop, and a brown trench-coat. He sat at the bar currently, nursing his drink, looking into it, a look of contemplation on his face. He wasn't truly thinking of anything he was just letting his mind wander. He knew something was going to happen, the room just seemed off. His eyes slowly scanned the room, trying to identify what was wrong. Suddenly, beside him, a large, scarred bulldog slammed a glass of alcohol next to him, shocking the ferret. The Bulldog grinned, leaning down.
"What's a little boy doing here?" He asked, looking back to an Possum and a Rat, both of whom grinning.
"I'm not sure." The Ferret responded, not looking away from his drink, "Where's your mother? I'll ask her."
"What's that? Punk? You got somethin' to say you little weasel? Why don't you- Errk!" The bulldog stopped, encouraged by the blaster under his chin, causing both the Rat and the Possum to jump, and go to help their leader.
"Listen, bub. I'm going to level with you. I don't like you. You smell funny, you're an ass, and, quite frankly, your ugly. To top it all off, it...reeeaallly pisses me off when people call me a weasel. I mean, after all, it can't be that hard to tell the difference between a weasel and a ferret."
"Who do you think you are pal!?" The rat said, stepping forwards.
"Pictures are worth a thousand words." The ferret nodded to the north wall, and on it was his picture. Below it, it read:
Cyrus Orion
Wanted Dead or Alive for mass murder, destruction and theft of Cornarian property, and terrorist acts.
100,000 Credits alive
50,000 Credits dead.
However, over the front of the poster, over his face, the word "Kursed" was written in red. The Bulldog, Rat, and Possum all gulped, as the general rule of the bar was: The higher your bounty was worth, the more respect you got. Cyrus pulled his blaster away, downing his drink in one gulp. At least he knew what was off. KURSED hadn't been there before. "Now, piss off." He said to them, They hastily oblidged. He rose is finger, and the bartender brought over a second shot-glass full of his favorite drink.
"On the house." The bartender said. "I don't charge dead men."
"Dead men? A bounty hunter can't spell and I'm a dead man?" The name on his picture was a tag. Bounty Hunters typically wrote their name, or a tag on the poster of the person they were hunting.
"No, Kursed is spelt right. It's a name. A bounty hunters name. One of the best in the business. Once his name appears on a poster, that person never shows up again."
"Issat so? Urban Legend?"
"No, fact. I've seen it more times than I can count. You must be some kind-of evil thought. I've heard he only goes after the scum of the universe."
"Some people think so." Cyrus said, downing this drink to. "Shame this doesn't have much of a kick to it. But, I think I should get going."
"You were a good customer Cy. Never started nothin', but you didn't let punks walk all ova you."
"Don't start talking about me like I'm dead mac."
"You might as well be. See you in hell Cy."
"Later." Cyrus flicked two fingers in farewell, walking out of the bar, heading for his ship. His ship was a heavily modified Cornarian fighter. It had been modified with a Zapper laser, instead of the much, much less powerful single, and a single lock. The ship, the Procyon Tempest, had served him well for years, and through countless modifications, most done for the weapons system. Cyrus never seemed happy with his ships offencive capabilities, however, this seemed fine. The only problem with this current set-up was that his manuverability suffered, badly. This was due to the armor and the weapons, both weighing down the ship.
'This is a combat ship.' Cyrus mused as he climbed in, readying the ship for take off. Cyrus was heading to his hide-out, his home.
About an hour into the flight, near the floating bunch of wreckage that concealed the entrance to his hide-out, Cyrus was leaning back in his seat, Suddenly a loud blast sounded out, an explosion shaking the Tempest from the rear. Cyrus was launched forewards into the console, his head hitting the controls. Looking over his shoulder, grunting and mumbeling complaints at the blood seeping into his eyes. Behind his ship flew a Pterodactyl shaped ship, fireing at him. Another explosion hit his ship, his console bleeping an alarm, signifying that is ship was going down, falling towards a nearby cliff on a planet below.
"Shit!" Cyrus cursed, pulling back on the controls to the ship, trying to get the nose horizontal, so that he wouldn't lose the tempest, or die. He had just gotten the nose facing the horizion as the ship slammed into the ground, shattering the glass, and started it's path towards the cliff. He shouted another curse, and killed the engine, letting the ship grind across the terrain, letting the ship slow. As soon as the Tempest ground to a stop, he leapt from the ship, and ran, just as the wooshing of a ship blew overhead. Whoever this person was, he was on Cyrus' tail. Cyrus bolted, running towards the cliff-face, and jumped onto a cliff, backing into a small cave as he heard the ship land above him, near the wreckage of his ship. Cyrus gulped a little, backing up as he heard footsteps above him. Suddenly a loud crack rang out, and Cyrus felt a wetness on his foot. He looked down, lifting and shaking his foot, trying to rid it of the green gunk that now covered it. He looked at the broken item he had stepped in. Whatever it was, it had looked like a rock before he put his foot in it. Unfourtunantly, whoever was after him seemed to hear the sound, and dropped down on the cliff, turning around, the planet's twin suns making it to bright to see who he was, a silloette against the bright light was all that was visable. Cyrus drew his blaster from under his coat, aiming it at the bounty hunter.
"You're worth a lot more to me alive than dead, don't be stupid." She sai...Wait, she!? Cyrus shook his head. No way, a female bounty hunter? It slowly, suddenly, started to come to him. A female bounty hunter named Kursed. Just as he thought this, the female walked from the sun, a blaster trained on hi. The female moved confidently, but not stupidly. She was a vixen, and her fur was a dark blue, with gray fur on her belly. She wore a black leather top, one that only covered her well-shaped breasts, and her pants were black leather as well, coming to just below her tail, Her tail was long, and tipped in that gray color, just as her belly. One blaster holster on her hip was empty. but the other had the same, brand new blaster model that was currently pointed at Cyrus' heart. On her back were two guns, a shotgun model, and a sniper rifle model. Both brand new. Her eyes, however, caught Cyrus' eyes. Her (color) eyes reflected massive sadness and regret, hidden just behind her eyes, as if she had some horrible past that she never wanted to remember. However, Cyrus could tell that it wouldn't hold her back from killing him if need be.
"Oh, such shame I feel. You know my name, but I only think I know yours. You are Kursed, I assume?"
"Yes, now let's not be stupid, and drop your blaster." She told him harshly, no humor in her voice. She kept the blaster trained on his heart, no wavering in her hands.
"And if I don't? I know you won't shoot me for that." Cyrus countered, aiming his blaster at her head. "Bounty hunters, ha! All you care about is your next paycheck, so you won't half that by shooting me for not dropping my weapon." As he finished saying this, a blast was fired, hitting Cyrus in the belly. Cyrus yelped, doubleing over as the blast hit him, burning a hole through his shirt and into his belly, narrowly missing his coat. Kursed reacted quickly, running forwards, dropping her blaster, and quickly disarming him. Cyrus brought his elbow up, elbowing her in the stoumach and pushing her back. He followed her, not letting her get any time, and reaching for her shotgun. Kursed pushed a palm into his blaster wound, hard, causing him to shout in pain, but not pushing him back. She growled, repeating her action, this time pushing the Ferret away. Pulling her shotgun, Cyrus saw a breif moment to pull his trump card. Reaching into his coat, Cryus retreived a two inch disk-like object from his coat, grinning.
"Stop now!" He called to her, pushing a button on the disk, making it begin to beep. Kursed did, glaring at him. "Stop, or I'll blow us both strait to Venom." Kursed ground her teeth.
"That alone won't do anything." She challenged, pumping the shot-guns barrel once. Cyrus shrugged, opening his coat. Within, the coat was lined with more of these disks. Bombs. Many, many bombs. Kursed gulped quietly. "You wouldn't."
"Better a dead bounty-head than a living prisoner. Now, leave. before the timer runs out. You have sixty seconds." He warned. Kursed was silent, looking at him quietly. She than smirked. "And don't think of just killing me, this bomb needs to be disarmed by me and me alone, or else it'll go off in about fourty-five sec-" He was cut off by a shot-gun blast, aimed above him. The rocks above him crumbled, and parts of the debris hit him in the head, and his world went black.
When Cyrus awoke, he heard the familar humming of a ship flying through space in no hurry. He went to rub his head, but found his hands bound, his wrists tied togehter. His ankles had the same, but his mouth was un-gagged. He felt warm, and looked up, and around to see the world around him. He was behind a seat, in a small co-pilot seat. He groaned, shaking his head."Finally woke up, hm?" Kursed asked, her voice floating over the seat. "I see my peaceful flight is over."
"Yeah. How'd you survive the bomb?"
"You're still sticking with that lie? We both know the bomb had no detonator. It was a nice try, I'll give you that, but, no matter how much explosives are packed into a bomb, without a detonator, it's not going to go off without a shot from a blaster."
"...How'd you know that?" He asked quietly.
"You arn't the only bomb expert in space." She responded, as if the fact was obvious. Cyrus accepted this for now, putting his head back down. He was down to just his pants, so he didn't have many options. All he could do now was wait for an oppertunity to escape.
"So, where are we going? I think I'd like to know where I have to hide when I break away from you and escape."
"Fat chance, but we're going to Cornaria."
"Oh yay, because I'm such a living legend there." Cyrus said sarcasticly. Kursed said nothing, just continuing to fly. Suddenly, from behind, a blast hit the flyer, shattering one of the engines. Cyrus was slammed against the back of Kursed seat. "Why does this keep happening to me!?" He shouted at no one in particular. Kursed cursed.
"Who the hell!?" She demanded, turning the ship around, only to find herself face to face with an armada of large warships. Cyrus used his elbows to prop himself up enough to see.
"Damn, you must've really pissed someone off." Cyrus said with a grin. "I can only imagine why."
"They're not after me..." She said quietly, more to herself. "Not specificly."
"Expound." He told her, looking to her. Looking back, Kursed realised she spoke aloud.
"Think about it you idiot. Who would send an army after one bounty hunter?"
"The last person you screwed? Litterally or figurativly." Kursed grit her teeth, but kept her blasted in it's holster, and not at his temple.
"Keep that up, and I may decide I don't need as much money as I thought." She warned. "This is a Venomian fleet, They're heading strait for Cornaria..."
"Looks like it's my lucky day." Cyrus remarked, another blast slamming into the back of the ship. "Well, either way, they seem pretty pissed off at you, so let's make a deal. You get us out of here, and I'll not die, how's that sound?" Kursed let out a small growl, turning the ship towards the nearby planet of Kew, and boosting towards it, avoiding the laser-fire from the small ships that swarmed out of the war-ships.
Once Kursed landed on the thick jungle planet, she pushed open the top, grabbed Cyrus by the crook of his arm, and jerked him out of the ship.
"Hey, hey! Watch the goods."
"Shut up." Kursed said simply, wasting no words on the ferret.