Despite being about a fox in space this story is not related to starfox in any way shape or form. I will also post the story here in a second.


The life of a Loranthian mercenary is usually very exciting. Yet here I am, in the cockpit of my fighter, flitting my tail waiting for scouting duties to end. Four long hours of listening to my engines hum and only occasionally moving to flick a switch. My Wolfling co-pilot, Jean, breathing is usually all I hear outside of the usual radio banter. I shift in my seat a bit and he chuckles “Just like a foxling, no patience” “No patience yourself! How long till we’re done for today?” I say while yawning.
We are looking for an uninhabited or uncivilized world to act as a base to refuel and repair our main battleship, and home, the Hugo. The Loranthians are a patchwork of peoples outcast from their respective societies. Having no true homeworld is one of the worst operational difficulties we have to work with. We can only sustain so much damage before needing to repair. If we are lucky we can score repairs as a payment but that cuts into everything else. So here I am, waiting for the end of my shift, flying at a slow measured pace in a fighter designed to fly at speeds that surpass 150sk/hr. “ I envy you,Jean. You can say anything and only I can hear it. I can’t say anything without everyone in the squadron overhearing.” I say with another yawn. “When has that stopped you in the past, Ever?” comes the shrill voice of my Bordling commander. “ I remind you, you designated yourself ‘Hellhowl’ clearly you are in on the joke.” I say working my jaw to reawaken it after hours of silence. “One more snide comment about my voice and I will find a way to have you cleaning toilets till judgement day!” She says while trying to stifle a laugh. “Move the mic away from your damn mouth!” I say dryly. “What did I just say!” “That wasn’t a snide comment, that was a request!” “What difference is there coming from you?”
Now I can hear the rest of the squad laughing. She and I worked this out years ago. On boring missions I’d play the bratty, eagre, snarky pilot and she’d play the stern and serious commander. We’d bounce off one another until the whole squadron was laughing. As usual we were successful. I reach and flick a switch waiting for the response. As usual the scan picks up nothing within its considerable range. My fidgeting and shifting only gets worse. Jean is also shifting in his seat. “I can’t wait for another contract to come in. Anything to break this monotony.” I yawn out while rolling my shoulders. “You and me both Ever. You know what, bring it in lads, we’re heading back.”
Through my headset I can hear the whooping of everyone's co-pilots. Soon the mammoth outline of the Hugo comes into view. Several generations ago a group of Loranthians found the ship abandoned. It had once been a mighty flagship and so we have never truly been able to figure out why it was abandoned. My pet theory is that it was scuppered at the end of a war to prevent it being claimed as loot. Our records support this since all damage appeared self inflicted. Still, the ship was perfect for our purposes. They soon had it up and running and it has been our home ever since. The ship can hold up to one million crew. We number ten thousand. It works out okay since the minimum crew is only two thousand but it can still get tense. I carefully pull my fighter into landing position as Jean recites our fighters properties. Landing angle and the like. Every so often I adjust the wheel slightly to keep us even. Finally touching down I quickly unbuckle my harness and slowly stand up. After taking a second to collect my thoughts and get rid of the light headedness that comes with flying for that long. As my paws hit the hangar floor Jean playfully claps my shoulder. “Careful there old man.” he rasps with a laugh. “Old man yourself! I’m a full three months younger than you!” I say nudging him back. “then why do you creak so much?” “you know the way new flight suits are.”
We walk back to our cabin. My new flight suit creaks with my every movement. I rough up my hair with my fingers and give myself a casual ear scratch. It’s good to even have the air of the ship blowing through my hair after that long in my fighter. As soon as we get into our cabin I jump in the bathroom. Jean jokingly curses at me outside and I shower. I spend some time afterwards combing my fur which I dyed emerald green. Well partially anyway. I left anything black or white untouched. I lay down on my bunk and wait for Jean to finish his shower. After a while Jean emerges and all but collapses beside me. I lay my head on his chest and yawn as he puts an arm around me. “think we should grab something to eat?” He says dropping the rasp from his voice. “We can wait a bit. I’m so tired.” I say closing my eyes. “Don’t close those you’ll fall asleep.” He says laughing.
Nevertheless Jean lets me fall asleep for a bit before dinner. Dinner meaning nutrient mush. That’s the best way to describe it. Tasteless, formless grey stuff to help us get our daily nutrients. I consider myself lucky it doesn’t have a taste. One can only guess at what it would taste like. Presumably like death. Maybe it would taste like rot. At anyrate I add more salt to mine and try to finish it. I hate slow periods. Our rations start to get low and this is all we have left. One more week and we will be forced to start raiding for supplies. Something we try to avoid as much as possible. It is never a good idea to raid something belonging to a potential customer. They might try and hunt you down. In fact we are constantly being pursued by one group or another. Jean and I return to our cabin quite quickly. The rest of our squadron is already resting so that means we’d have to hang around with the assholes from B-company. They are genuinely some of the worst people on the ship. Well some of them. All of their newer squadrons are just the worst people I have to deal with. Obnoxious when they’re not being outright antagonistic. They also have some of the loudest and fastest mouths in the galaxy paired with the slowest brains. Sooner or later I just know we’re going to end up in a fight. “ Nice fur retard! Were you born like that?!” One yells at me on my way out. “some of us are blessed with the ability to change ourselves to look better. You, sadly, seem to have a case of terminal shit face syndrome. It is nice they let you out of infirmary.” I say casually waving as I leave. “that wasn’t that creative.” Jean says as the door slides shut cutting off the torrent of noise. “the day I waste my energy on those morons is the day I lower my standards to non-existent levels.” I say rolling my eyes. “At any rate they seem to be running out of insults. That was barely a jab considering how many times they’ve used it in the past.” “Maybe the fatigue is getting to them too.”
We return to our room and fall back into bed. “Ever, what do you think would have happened if commander Yettan had never found you?” Jean says as I lay my head back on his chest. “what's there to think about it? I was five years old if I had not been found I would be dead.” “I doubt that. You never struck me as the type to give up” “Perseverance has nothing to do with it. The simple fact is that the Iesmi would not have allowed me to live if they found me. And they would have found me.” “I don’t mean to pry. Just sometimes I wonder what it would be like without you.” “You shouldn’t think that way. Someday it may come to be. At any rate, you’d be an awful lot colder right now.” “We live constantly ready to die yet I cannot help but ponder.” “ Trust in someone who’s survived some serious shit. It’s natural to ponder such a thing. But one must not spend too much time doing so. There are so many things that could have been to think on them all would distract you from the here and now. What matters is I am here, now, and nothing can change that. Now go to sleep you great lug.”