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What lurks under the surface...


Milkyway64

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Lylat. Lylat was a frankly bloody galaxy, having known peace for decades until the recent war. Cities were destroyed, families separated through death, and nature polluted by wreckages and weapons. This dark period was known as the "Lylat Wars" for its wide spread effect on the entire galaxy. It was conducted by a homicidal scientist known as Andross, but he was stopped by a brave few of elite pilots calling themselves StarFox, and again, peace reigned. The damage was slowly being undone, and the populace began to move on. All seemed well.

A perfect fairy tale, that. Classic heroes versus a bad guy, and the day is saved. Is that really all there was to it? Whether there was or not, Lylat would never come to know. This is the story of eight innocents, which history would never record.

---

Life was good on Corneria. The city had been mostly rebuilt, and the population returning to normal life. Even the news had been getting boring, as today's main coverage was on a singular arwing being spotted going to Titania a lot, with StarFox's denial of it ever happening. A small team had been sent to investigate.

---

And they were not the only ones sent. Our 8 heroes were also there; with no knowledge how. Some were civilians, some were involved with a military. Some were not even native to Lylat. Were they kidnapped? If they were, their captor wasn't very polite, the room they were gathered in was poorly furnished, and resembled a store room more than anything. The atmosphere of the place was as dull and welcoming as the plated steel to make up the walls, floor, and ceiling. There was but a single door centered in one of the walls, supporting the store room theory. It was, however, locked. Naturally, as the group awoke, they'd discover all they had with them was the clothes on their back and whatever they happened to be carrying from the night before.

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Opening his eyes the tanuki is slightly blurry on the details what happened to his wooden crate, where is he? Why is he there? Why is his sight so blurry, and why are there Grey blobs on the ground around him? Blinking his eyes to enhance his sight.

The tanuki stands up "is everyone ok?" he questioned in a loud voice.

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Mark opened his eyes and his vision was blurred. "ugghhh, what.... happened." He said with a groggy tone, he rubbed his head and smelled the air.

He would look around and just see blurry blobs. Something is different. He stated to himself with a slightly worried tone.

As his vision would he would look around and realized that he was not in his hotel room anymore. In fact he was in an entirely different place. He looked to the other 7 in the room and noticed that they were all beginning to awake

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Gene picked his head up from the hard ground, various small aches and pains permeated his body. "What the hell--?" Gene's voice was a hash whisper, hoarse from dryness. There were several others, none familiar, but all obviously in the same predicament, whatever that is. Gene wracked his brain for memories of anything leading up to this point, but there was nothing. Maybe someone not conscious yet knew something...

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A loud grunt errupted from a large body in one of the corners. Slowly, Cairns squinting eyes opened, took a moment to take in his surroundings, before they once again shut.

"The drunk tank." He mumbled to himself. "Not again!". The fact he couldn't remember how he got here, coupled with his splitting headache, seemed to confirm that theory.

Slowly and unsteady, he got up on his feet. Things certainly didn't look to bright for him. He was out of work, no crime lord to bail him out this time around. With his own wallet sharing several characteristics with a black hole as far as getting any kind of money out of it, he'd be looking to spend a couple days here.

It was then he started to notice a couple things he found odd about the room. This didn't look like any cell he'd ever been in. And he had seen a lot of them. The fact that he was sharing it with 7 other people was a mayor telltale. Picking up a pissed and drunk brawler from the street and putting him in a cramped room together with several others of his kind was definatively not the way the CPD did things. There was also some simple furniture in here. This was no prison.

"Hey, you lot!" He grumbled to the others. "What dis place 'bout?"

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Pete stirred, and shot awake, and pointed his MP5, only to find it wasn't there. His PCV wasn't there either; just his Urban BDU.

Where the hell am I....? , and he wondered to himself as he lay his arms down, and glanced about at the strange blurry forms.

We were on a routine patrol....then nada....., he wondered, making faces doing so. His vision returned with minor ringing in his ears,

"W-where am I? WHere's my squad?!", he exclaimed feebly, like a child lost and alone.

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Red was lying, face down, on the cold, concrete floor. Her eyes flickered open, and she reached up to rub the dust away from her face. She sat up slowly, finding herself heavy with fatigue.

"Ngh... Ah," she croaked, her voice husky from sleep, "What happened..?"

She looked around. There were others with her, seemingly in the same situation. They were waking up from some odd slumber, gazing around and judging just how much danger they were in. Red got to her feet, and brushed the dirt off her clothes.

"Does anyone know what happened? Or are you all... just as confused as me..?" she asked no one in particular. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie, and pulled out the contents. She had gum, scraps of paper, a lighter and a small pack of cigaretttes. She brought a cigarette to her mouth, and lit it. Taking a deep breath of the foul smoke, she approached the only door of the room. It was locked.

She turned again to face her new companions, and suddenly felt like an animal backed into a corner. Who were these people? What if they were dangerous? She dropped the instrument of her bad habit, and pressed her back against the wall, attempting to keep her instincts under control. The cigarette continued to burn at her feet.

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Mark looked at the others. He spoke a little louder. Paranoia ran through his mind. But he soon snapped out of it and back into reality. "I don't think anyone knows......" He said to Red.

He looked at his bag and saw all what he would normally carry. Minus his M9 piston. All he had was his wallet, a few peices of Wintergreen gum, and his ID and Federal badge.

"Anyone else know what the hell is going on?" He asked to the crowd.

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looking around Marakana grabbed his waist and noticed his knife. "i don't know much but i know all i have is my knife, and that i don't know where we are." Marakana then turns his back and starts mumbling to himself.

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Not getting an answer, Stacker checked his person, mabye he had a knife or something- there was nothing to be had but the bdu on his back, boots to cover his feet and tipless-gloves to cover his paw-like hands.

Great.....perfect....

He got up and arrived at the door, inspecting it,

Locked from the outside....figures..

The marine began to kick at the door in frustration, wanting to get out, and make whomever got him here in the first place, pay for it dearly. Much to his annoyance, it was no use.

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Gene was temped to take the discarded cigarette, such a thing to let burn and waste, but he restrained himself from the temptation. "I think anyone's guess is as good as your own. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who can't remember jack..." Gene stood, his tail curled close in subconscious insecurity.

Gene's own pockets were rather light, a wallet with the usual contents; a carabiner attached with a chain and keys, a lighter, and a crumpled pack of his own smokes. Gene half relented to his habit of smoking and pulled one out to nibble on the filter. "I bet we would just break apart anything we used in here to try to take down the door. I bet we won't find out anything until someone is grateful enough divulge such information; likely our captor." Gene looked around the room with his arms folded close, watching one person take out his frustrations on said door.

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"ugh..this headache is horrid" Delirium moaned to himself as he was coming to, he had awoken to see several figures already standing, but wait? wasn't he supposed to wake up in a personal hotel room.....

getting up delirium looked around to see many people gathered around. he decided the best course of action would be to ask what the hell was going on.

"What going on here? and what is the meaning of this?" Were Deliriums questions to the general masses.

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Amidst the confused chaos came their answer, a ninth person entered the room. Not from the door, but she just sort of phazed in from the air. She wore a modest red dress and appeared to be a common brown vixen, and she had a parasol or umbrella of some sort, closed neatly over her shoulder. More to the point, she was floating, seated on some unseen platform. She had a mysterious, almost seductive air to her, and her voice drove that point home.

"Hello, everyone. Enjoying your stay? I hoped you would." she paused, looking over the confused lot. "You're probably all wondering where you are, aren't you? Understandable, I brought you all here without your knowledge or consent, I have way of doing that, heh... Well, I do hate spoiling surprises, so feel free to wander around and explore. All that matters is you are here, see?"

With that final sentence, she left the same way she came in, by phasing through the wall. Her exit point was marked with a distortion for a few seconds, and the only exit slid open. Through the doorframe was a very large room; a docking bay. The place was ridiculously old fashioned, it lacked the smoothness of modern base design, and an worn emblem could be seen on the wall. Inside the docking bay was an arwing, which funnily enough, contrasted its surroundings, and a worn but still readable sign that may offer clues to where they were.

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Marakana is looking at the sign that is in a weird language. " can anyone translate this for me?" he looks at the group.

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Mark stared in shock as the women phased in, but as the door opened. He walked out not questioning anything. Who are what brought them here had amazing powers. He needed to figure out where he was. He walked out and looked around. "God.... this place.... It looks ancient." He remarked.

He heard the question asked from a gentleman. He walked over to the old emblem. "It looks like an old base emblem. Something militaryish." He paused. "I have no idea what it could be at the moment.."

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Delirium looked in awe at the phasing vixen. he wished he could do such things. after thinking for a second he heard what appeared to be a raccoon ask after a sign right in front of it. taking a good look, delirium realized he had no clue what it said either.

"I've got no idea what the hell this sign says.....it's in some mangled looking language or something, sorry i can't help bro."

Delirium thought again for a second and realized there was no-one he recognized...might as well try to get friendly with em

"I'm Delirium by the way, what's your name young one?" Delirium offered a hearty handshake to the raccoon.

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Maranaka turns to the tall being behind him "my name is Maranaka, it is an honor to meet you delerium."

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The emblem itself was nothing of much importance, the age of the place coupled with the emblem not being associated with any major power suggested it had long since disbanded. Of more interest was the sign itself, whose "weird language" consisted of basic lylatian, dust, and tears.

It was a safety reminder, and planet Titania could be seen in the fine print as well as once in the main body of the message.

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Cairn elbowed his way trough the others and into the docking bay. "I'm not any wiser." He grunted. "And I don't like that vixen. What the heck was she floating around and trough walls for!?! Floors and doors not good enuff for her, eh?"

Figuring he had everyones attention, he continued, still in that overly loud voice that hallmarked someone with much confidence, and shitty etiquette. "I for one want to know why I am here."

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looking at the planet shaped engraving Maranaka is pondering the age of the place "I think this place is at least 700 years old if not older seems young to me...." Maranaka is whispering incoherently when he transforms into the form of delirium "Well, now then i can see things at head level." walks to the room he woke up in "Is there something here i can use?"

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Mark read the sign further. He made out the word Titania. "Huh, Ok well I guess we can assume we are on Titania, but this place....." He shuddered. "It is old.... really old." He stated generally. "Definitely not Cornerian, seems older." He said aloud.

He looked behind him and would see the others.

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looking at the planet shaped engraving Maranaka is pondering the age of the place "I think this place is at least 700 years old if not older seems young to me...." Maranaka is whispering incoherently when he transforms into the form of discord "Well, now then i can see things at head level." walks to the room he woke up in "Is there something here i can use?"

"WHAT THE HELL!" Delirium freaked out when a perfect mirror of himself just erupted from the lowly raccoon, this couldn't be one of those fabled tanooki's could it? Delirium followed himself? to the room, he figured he would stick around and see what other tricks was up his sleeve.

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"Titania? But how could... bah, it doesn't matter." Cairn snorted as he stepped closer to the sign. "Titania... I fought here in the Lylat wars..." He added thoughtfully, making a point not to mention which side he had fought on.

(Heading to bed now. Cairn will be to busy thinking about his war memories to be loud and obnoxious untill I can get back again. G'night folks.)

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Red followed the others, into the docking bay. It was an unusual sight, and something about it felt... wrong. She approached the Arwing.

"Heehee," she giggled, "If I wasn't such a failure with machines, I would totally have a ride in this thing."

She turned to the others, who seemed rather dazed and confused. She began to think of home, where she belonged, and knew that working with these strangers was the only way she would get back there.

"I don't feel very safe here," she muttered to whoever was listening, "And I'm cold, and hungry. How do we get out of this place? It smells odd, and old, who knows what went on here back in its day."

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The marine wordlessly watched as the strange Vixen phased in, giving them a sort of greeting, and then phasing out again,

Hockes pokes....ugh I HATE hokes pokes....

Pete walked after the group of other beings, and saw them examining the insignia.

"Doesn't ring any bells.....", the blusih Vulpine murmered aloud.

"Anyone mind telling me whats going here?", he asked in as a polite tone as possible, still worried about his squadmates.

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