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Impressions. (formerly Perspective)


Four-eyed Vulpine

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My second Wolf-POV fan fiction.  This is my first attempt at a style where no quotations are used; all that can be read are Wolf's words.

This is part one of two.

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Impressions

Twenty minutes to our target, Fichina.  According to intelligence, a rare resource was recently discovered near the northern pole, and it would benefit our side greatly once the area is under Venomian control.  Of course, things can never be that easy.  The latitudes above the polar circle of the planet average minus twenty degrees, with a wind chill that could freeze Hell over.  Sure, we could counter the cold with our heating technologies—I mean, damn, our base is in the middle of a desert with all the heat you could ever desire—but still, life’s going to really suck for the lizards we’re escorting to take over the region and construct mining facilities.  You don’t see lizards running around in the middle of winter for a reason.  But like I care, right?  Better them than me.

Fifteen minutes to our target.  The rest of my crew is along for the ride, as always, with Panther at my five and Leon at my seven in an expansive triangular formation around the Venomians we are defending.  Personally, I couldn’t care less about these idiot cold-bloods; I’m just in this for the money.  At least some of these lizards have enough guts to be additional escorts, but if the time comes, they’ll likely be the first ones to go.  Their skills simply pale in comparison to mine and my teammates, and no force will get past us.  Speaking of my team, they seem to be in good spirits today, probably because of the big payoff after this soon-to-be-successful mission.  I don’t know, maybe their seemingly constant obsessions are what make them continue to tick.  All Panther thinks about is women, twenty-four seven.  He has pictures of women lining the inside of his cockpit, not to mention the “secret” stash of porn mags underneath his seat.  And he dreams of making out and making love with women all night, every night.  Ugh, he is truly a rake.  Now Leon, on the other hand, would rather torture women and watch them experience prolonged and excruciating deaths.  And he does it to every living thing he can get ahold of—insects included.  Sometimes he’ll even grab a random Venomian in order to get his fix of pain, blood, and power, like a true sadist.  I’m partnered with a rake and a sadist—what a combination.

Ten minutes to our target.  So far, so good, but I still have concerns for a certain team of mercenaries that is always loving to get in my way—that damn Star Fox team.  I hope that they won’t be an issue this time since we’re quite a distance from Corneria, but there’s still a chance there that I don’t want.  Besides, they get all of their intelligence directly from the Cornerian government, so if someone so much as sneezes on the other side of the entire cosmos, they’ll know.  I hate uneven odds, especially when they’re in favor of my opposition.  And as if their technology and resources aren’t enough, there’s the members themselves with their terrible personalities.  Fox has a giant ego, Falco’s as cocky as Hell, Slippy’s a child whose voice can crack glass, Krystal’s a slut, Peppy’s an old fart that needs to retire, and ROB should be looking for the nearest scrap pile.  If they all would just die, I would be happy forever.  Maybe.  Sometimes I want to kill my teammates, too.

Five minutes to our target.  Fichina and its frozen wasteland surface are within view and closing; time to decelerate and make our approach.  With a switch to manual control and the lower powering of the engines, my ship glides toward the coordinates, leading the party to the target.  From what I hear, Leon and Panther are holding up their corners well—no disruptions as of yet.  The radar on my right is also cle—wait a minute.  A dreadnought-class ship enters range at three-o’clock.  And now there’s four smaller fighter-class ships coming our way from the same direction.  A look out my starboard viewport confirms the spotting and seals their identities.  Star Fox, damn it!  I just knew they’d show up!

I immediately inform my team of the oncoming threat and bark orders to enter a defensive formation.  The other escorts are commanded to continue the flight with the transports into the atmosphere as we block them off from Star Fox’s intrusion.  Not much longer passes before we start to pick up their close-range transmissions, and immediately after, the threats come across.  Fox says he’s going to put an end to my schemes this time, but I’m always going to come back.  Someday, I will destroy him.  After some useless comm chatter—the whole team feels they have to say something every time—the aggressors fire the first shots, and we deflect and retaliate, thus beginning the dogfight.  Everyone pairs off as we always do—Leon and Falco, Panther and Krystal, and Fox and I—while Slippy appears to be floating around, supporting pilots when needed.

My shields are at maximum as Fox attempts to position himself behind my ship in order to get several clear shots in, but I continue to make sharp one-eighties in random directions to keep him off my tail.  Fortunately, I get a lucky break with an opening as I complete a turn and quickly get a few shots in, reducing his shields to seventy-eight percent.  I’m not getting my hopes up yet though; he’s a persistent little bastard.  Less than half a mile away, Leon and Falco appear to be fighting an even match.  Well, Leon just took a bunch of hits, and he’s down to thirty-five percent shields.  I’d help him, but I have my hands full at the moment.

Damn, I’m getting too slow; Fox just racked up a couple of hits on my Wolfen.  It’s nothing severe, though.  I’ll just have to do more outmaneuvering and nail him one shot at a time if I’m going to make any headway.  That said, he’s getting harder than Hell to even hit, let alone get behind.  Oh great, now Slippy’s trying to assist him.  Ah well, he’s not so great at—what the hell?!  I’m able to steer clear of the large plasma beam that Slippy just fired, but crap, that was totally unexpected!  He’s not able to keep up with our movements, though, as his Arwing sacrifices speed for power.  After dodging a second, better-expected blast from his cannons, he is soon in my sights, and I ram him with multiple shots, bringing his shielding down as far as I can.  However, I have to cut off when Fox lands another hit on me, dropping me down to eighty-one percent.  At least Slippy is retreating back to the mothership now with his five percent shielding—a wise decision.

It looks like Panther’s mopping the floor with the inexperienced Krystal; her shields are dropping slowly, but steadily, and he’s hardly got a scratch.  For someone who’s so woman-crazy, at least he knows who his enemies are.  But my gosh, he’s relaying a flirt over the comm like every five seconds, so I think I’ll switch our connection off for now; I don’t want to hear all of his lovey-dovey crap.  Good, Krystal’s had enough, and she’s retreating, too.  Panther, please don’t follow her, please don’t follow her…damn it, he’s following her.  I swing around in yet another sharp curve and switch our connection back on in order to scream at the feline for support.  He listens, thank goodness.  However, Falco has Leon all the way down to three percent shielding, compared to avian’s fifty-six.  The lizard takes a hint and backs off while Fox calls Falco over for support.  It’s now a two-on-two match.

It’s hard to say who we should go after first; they both seem equally skilled.  Fox and Falco almost immediately turn their sights on me—go figure.  With assaults covering a ninety-degree plane, I take a few hits before I can steer clear as Panther gets the avian while he’s open.  My wing mate then averts the Star Fox leader’s attention by zooming across his view, giving me the chance to nail him with a few more shots, but Falco cuts me off with an attack of his own.  The universal pattern of attack, defend, and counter continues for several minutes as all of our shields take gradual, but consistent damage.  The Great Fox is passing by on my left, hopefully not in an attempt to ram us.  Before long, our shields are each down into the thirties; it won’t be long before a ship explodes.  Good, Falco’s in the twenties.  I’m taking advantage while Fox is defending him.  Alright, he’s almost down…

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EDIT:  I changed the title to "Impressions" due to recent allegations of copying another author's title.

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Zomg.... Krystal is not a slut... But if she was....  >.>

Anyways, Great job so far! Its nice to see something from the opposite end of things!

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  • 1 month later...

FeV, you need to change the name of your story; an author on my forums (along with several others) has a story who's name that's nearly identical to this one; and it was published long long before this was ever put up. We can't have copyright violation, can we?

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Copyright violation my ass! Welcome to the internet! The biggest place in the world yet it has no land! So if it has no land, it doesn't have a governing body.... So you know what that means.... Anarchy! no laws! Who will enforce a copy right over a FANFIC anyways?

a n00b thats who.... You aren't a n00b.... Are you?

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well, this would be rather stupid if I just so happened to pick this out of the blue. However, there is a clincher to all of this; FeV is a a member of my forums and this one, thus he knew of the name before posting this, and thus, my reason for bringing the whole matter up.

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Actually, I didn't know of the other fic.  I'll be happy to oblige, though.

EDIT:  Puff, though a lot of stuff posted on the Internet doesn't have copyrights, we fan-authors should still respect the possession of other's works.  Just change a word and move on.

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