There had been soft nights on Cerinia, with all of the galaxy arced before her in an array of lights. She found Sauria no different; the fragrance of grass melted into the aroma of water, and she could taste the pungent magic filtering from the soil to the heavens. A pearl cloak was draped about her shoulders and with the night wind, it danced over her golden-plated armor. Her attire had been swapped with something hardier—the armor of her people, which she had left largely discarded in a box. Sometimes, if she did not see it, she did not remember. And if she did not remember, she did not weep.

But with the events of the past few days, it was hard to not weep.

Her fingers cascaded slowly over her staff as it rested in her lap. She felt each engraving, each gem. They called to her, illuminating into the darkness. They were not of this planet, but they liked it all the same. She was kind enough to let them drink the magic from the surface until they had their fill. In a few days, she would depart for another planet. As brief as her time was here, the crisis was over and the memory of it all left her more heartbroken than she would have liked to confess. At least all is well in the end. Her fingers clutched the earth, feeling the dirt and blades of grass. It was hard to think that it had all been in such dire circumstances just days before.

His footsteps came in clunky snaps of twigs, paced slower and heavier. She glanced at him over her shoulder, hood drawn over her ears and head. He really was an odd one, with his half-smile and curious eyes. His courage was boundless—or maybe it was his stupidity. She was not certain. His hand went to scratch the back of his head awkwardly as he dodged her turquoise eyes, one ear flicking to the side.

"I was wondering where you went," he said, words fumbling like a pre-teen boy. She did not smile the sweet smile this time. She had said her thanks on his mothership—had that not been enough? The entire thing was embarrassing in the least, and as she turned her head to look back out across the valley, she felt the prickle of fur rise on the back of her neck.

"I wanted to ask you about…" About what? The enemy was vanquished, the day was saved. What more was there to discuss? "Well, how you got here."

"A ship. No different from you, really."

He did not seem satisfied by that answer and she could feel his uncertainty radiating from him. "What planet are you from?"

She hesitated, her fingers finding their place at her chest where a crystalline stone hung from her neck. Her mind's eye saw the jungles of her home, the myriad of stars that always had been overhead, and her ears could still recall the sound of the evening chant as the gems lighting the city streets dimmed. Serenity overtook the world each night in its gentle dark cloak. There had been no monsters on her beloved home world; there had been nothing to fear. Or so she would have liked to think…

"Cerinia," It was a gone now, a phantom in her mind and she recoiled visibly, turning her back to him.

There are monsters everywhere. I must remember that.

"Oh…"

She heard his weight shift, but there was only silence that followed. Her eyes fell across the valley, where a light mist had seeped over the grass, nipping at the trunks of the sturdy trees. A constant gurgle of the nearby waterfall was like music to her ears—much more pleasant than talking of tragedies from years ago.

"What will you do now?"

"Leave," she said, even though it broke her heart. It felt so much like home here, but this place was scarcely survivable. She supposed the tribes would help her if she needed it. But food would be tough to find. Fruits only carried one so far, and the mushrooms seemed… well, she disliked the thought of consuming them. "I will go back to doing what I was doing before."

"What was that?"

"Surviving. Helping those that are in need," She snuck a look at him. He was so awkward, so out of place against the jungle backdrop. "I have been told you are no different, Fox McCloud. A man that travels the Lylat System to aid others…" She paused, studying his spring-colored eyes. There was a sort of spark in them, a feisty energy that washed away her doubts. But there were shadows in them, as there were spaces between the stars in the sky. "For the right price."

"I didn't do all of that for the money," Fox laughed and sat down in the grass next to her, kicking his feet out in front of him. "Well… mostly."

She reached out to his mind, slowly and cautiously, grazing the surface emotions that bubbled and boiled. There were images—a young dinosaur, a flourishing hollow, and a battle among the stars. He cares. She withdrew her invisible touch and resumed gazing across the valley below. Her ship was situated in an opening among the trees, shy of the water's delicate touch. Each dent and rust mark told a story of a flight, a battle, a weeping prayer—all things she would have liked to have forgotten, but his questions made her remember… How long had it been since she had spoken to someone of the same species? The silence of space had somehow made it difficult to talk in long bouts—even talking to the Cloudrunner guard in the Saurian dialect had been challenging to her.

"Your name is Krystal," he stated, almost dumbly, and she heard him scratch at his neck again. It must have been a nervous tick. She was not sure if it annoyed her or entertained her. "I don't really know how I knew that. When I pulled the staff from the ground, I seemed to know a lot of things…"

"A rough translation," Krystal replied. Peculiar… The staff selected him momentarily and translated all he needed to know into his native language. There is much I do not understand after all… "But you can call me that if you would like."

"Okay…" Fox seemed unsure about something, his emerald eyes sweeping to the left and right. His internal congress went unspoken, however, and the blue vixen found herself relaxing back into the quiet.

A dinosaur called into the night, its bugling unfamiliar to her ears. She listened to how Sauria sounded when the moon reigned, allowing the night breeze to blow back her silky hood. A prickling on her neck and she could sense his eyes unmoving from her. There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her back in the skimpy outfit—men were all too easy to read. Involuntarily, she pulled the cloak closer about her shoulders to keep the bite of the wind out. Rigid mountains loomed close and they cast down harsh gales upon the falls. But it did not deter the fireflies, which seemed to crawl from the woodwork of the trees and the ruins embedded into the falls. They danced their primal jig, wavering in clusters of pale-green light.

"You must have come back to the planet for a reason," she observed aloud after some time. "I would have thought you long gone after my visit aboard your mothership."

"It didn't feel right," confessed Fox. Krystal could not shroud her surprise at his statement, her teal eyes bearing into his expression. Tentatively, she made to reach to his mind, to unravel the truth from the clouds of his uncertainty. But she pulled back from his mind. Best to let him answer for himself, I think.

The mercenary studied the sky as a scholar would a book, a half-smile about his muzzle. His pupils were searching for something in the boundless heavens. A divine sign? … Did Cornerians even believe in the same gods as Cerinians? She blinked at him and realized she was holding her breath… Anticipation crept into her lungs, but she expelled it with a sigh, trying to keep her mien stable, stoic. She was an intergalactic spare warrior, not a schoolgirl—to slip out of focus would be a betrayal to her mentor's teachings after all. Still she wondered what he was thinking and thought to reach into his mind a third time… but stayed her hidden hand.

"What you're wanting to do and what I'm wanting to do are the same thing," Fox said finally, and Krystal quirked her brow at the ambiguity of the sentence. He took note, his ears flitting back out of nervousness. "That… came out weird. I meant the part about helping people. That's what you've been doing, isn't it?"

"Yes…" Krystal nodded. Where is he going with this…?

"Then come with us," Fox said with such enthusiasm that Krystal had to use a surprising amount of restraint to not laugh at him. "Join my team."

"I barely know you," she protested. "And besides, your main method of fighting involves your ship, no? I can imagine that would be hard to master without some time and vigorous training."

"We have simulators. We can train you," he insisted with an innocence that reminded her of a kit. Her patience waned rapidly and she rose to her feet, shaking her head. The Cerinian way is so different than the rest of the Lylat System. There are reasons I did not seek out a colony. This Cornerian boy is no different from the rest of the ignorant.

Krystal began to walk away, numbness coursing through her with each step away from him. His desperation was so thick, so potent she could sense it without even reaching to him. It made her fumble for her hood once more, and she drew it over her head to conceal her features once more. She had almost talked herself into walking away from Fox in that moment, but his voice rang out one last time.

"Wouldn't it be better than traveling the Lylat System by yourself?"

Her heart ached and she brushed her fingers against the brooch at her throat's base. Alone. Alone is quiet, comforting. But it's painful too. She looked back at him, eyes illuminated by the starlight.

"I suppose," Krystal considered aloud. I am so unlike them. But perhaps… Fox's despair gave way to hope, and she could sense it radiating from him. The staff did choose him. I must find out why.

"Then…?"

"Your team intrigues me," Krystal admitted, but paused for a moment of thought. "I will be trained, then? Given quarters to rest in, given meals?" She tried to hide the fact that her stomach was gurgling with need.

"Yes, of course," Fox chuckled.

"And you are okay with having someone like me aboard your ship?" Krystal raised her brows. He knows I have powers. The staff likely informed him of such... But such is the way of Cerinia. The way of the Outerreach Rim, where magic still flows freely, seeping into the blood and bone of its denizens.

"I don't see why that would matter," Fox answered. "If anything, it could help the team."

"And the others of your team…?"

"They told me I'd be an idiot if I didn't ask you to come with us," He averted his gaze, but she could still see the bashful smile creep onto his maw. She could not place the emotion that rose from her heart, but she felt her cheeks flush under her fur.

Fox scratched at his neck, eventually meeting her eye. "There'll be some paperwork to go through, but it shouldn't take too long. You can park your ship onto the Great Fox and we'll help you unload your things…" He paused. "Erm… you aren't living anywhere else, are you?"

"No," Krystal replied, "All of my belongings are on the Cerinian ship." Such few things, but enough to satisfy the life of a wanderer… Not that I will be that for much longer.

"Good," He gave a concise nod. "We're in orbit over the planet. You can follow me back."

"Sounds like a good plan. Where is your ship?" Krystal asked him. She had not seen him land among the falls, nor had she heard the soft humming of its engines overhead. A gander about the cliffs revealed no shiny spacefighter either, and the blue vixen gave the mercenary an inquisitive quirked brow.

"Erm…" Embarrassment emitted from him like warm sun rays. She had to conceal her smirk with a hand. He walked a long ways to find me. "It's at Walled City."

No wonder it took him so long.

"I can fly you there," Krystal offered. "It certainly is better than walking, especially given how dangerous this place can be."

"Thanks," Fox replied, rising from the grass. She led him to the stony slope that dipped into the valley, the roar of the falls growing louder in her ears as they neared it. Each loose stone was carefully observed; losing one's footing on the narrow path could be disastrous. Though she doubted she would be critically injured by falling into the pool below, she knew her pride could not handle it, not after her humiliating rescue at Krazoa Palace. She was still emotionally sore from the trap Andross had lain.

Fox followed her with a laughable sense of awkward clumsiness. A "whoa" would come shooting out of his mouth every so often before the rocky path leveled out beneath the falls. To their right, the waters growled and gurgled. To their left, the stone cave way into a shallow cave, moist to the touch and trapping the thick scent of mist. Krystal let her fingers skirt the rocks, feeling their ridges and how time had eroded them. Fox's breath was lost in the sounds of the waterfall, but she could sense him there, and so she pressed on, even as the moon and stars were blotted out by the shadows. There is much here… Krystal could feel the magic radiating from the waterfall, her skin tingling as her fur began to rise. I could spend a lifetime exploring this planet and never know everything.

"What's this place called?" He shouted, shattering the serenity of nature, and sending one of her ears back out of annoyance.

"Discovery Falls," Krystal answered, rising her voice so that he could hear it. She made each step from the concealed cave delicate, following the trail until the falls were behind her and the rocky path turned into grass and dirt. "I landed here first when I came to Sauria."

"Oh…" Fox had somehow gotten wet in their venture, and was shaking himself dry. The blue vixen gave a small, quiet chuckle to herself as he fought to keep the cream fur on his head from sticking out in awkward directions. "Well, it's a nice place."

"There's much here. I would like to come back someday."

"We'll come back. I have to check up on Tricky every now and then, too."

"Ah yes… The other new Star Fox team member," Krystal said with a laugh.

"How'd you know about that?" Fox asked in surprise.

"When you handed me the staff back, it transferred ownership. I recall much from your journey through its eyes," Krystal replied and when he gave the staff a bizarre look, she added, "Do not worry, it spoke fondly of you."

"It talks?" Fox asked and Krystal could only laugh.

The cricket chorus and the symphony of water made her feel homesick again, but as they neared her rusted ship, she fought back her heartache. She had placed it on some pale, yellowed stone that had been engraved by ancient hands long before her arrival. The insignia was odd, but she recalled the diamond-esque marking from Krazoa Palace—the emblem of the still-lingering spirits, she wondered? Not that it mattered—she had witnessed what would transpire when the primordial beings were assimilated. What they were doing now, she did not dare ask. The tranquility that flowed through the planet spoke nothing but a divine rightness to her. Perhaps it was Andross's design that made them become so perverse? At least whatever ill-intentions they had carried seemed to have dissipated with the mad ape's death.

All that is left to do is hope.

"Krystal?" Fox asked her and she jolted from her thoughts.

"Oh. Apologies," she said abashed, opening the door into her meek ship. The metal creaked and groaned as they entered and Fox made a face that revealed an ounce of worry. "She will hold," Krystal assured him, thinking of the grand pursuit it had endured years ago. Heavy under enemy fire, it had prevailed—a simple trip from Sauria to the Great Fox would be nothing to fret over.

They passed the passenger bay and Fox cast his gaze over the chairs bolted crudely into the ground, as well as the makeshift bed in the corner. Her furs and woven blankets were not cushioned enough to be called a proper sleeping place, but she had made do. Other belongings were scattered about in organized chaos—a practice staff made of wood (for when she had been but an apprentice studying under her mentor), a mask made of white stone, and a collection of clothes draped over a chair. The vulpine mercenary looked more inquisitive as he glanced about, but Krystal made a beeline for the cockpit.

"This ship is typically piloted by two," She informed him as he sat in the co-pilot's chair. "These aircraft were used to ferry my people to and from planets." We were not a people of technology, but a people of tradition. Even then, it was rare for Cerinians to depart our home world. "They have no weapons attached. Simply a civilian craft." She paused. "I left Cerinia on this ship." There were others… but… "It's been home for a long time now."

Fox did not say anything, his eyes moving from her to the shoddily-made control panel. It took some time for the engines to rev into action and Krystal had to pull hard on the steering to get the rickety piece of metal airborne. At the first major sway, Fox made sure to secure his seatbelt before giving her a wild-eyed look. His doubts came to the surface of his mind, and involuntarily, Krystal reached to them before saying, "She's merely temperamental, angered that she has been awoken so abruptly."

"I guess so," Fox gave a small laugh as they hovered above the trees of Discovery Falls. Her teal eyes tried to not stray to the ruins and the majestic falls, but she found herself bidding a silent farewell to the peaceful valley anyways. She gave herself some altitude, the world shrinking beneath the old carrier.

The ride went without much conversation. He sat next to her and the proximity made it easy to hear his muddled pool of thoughts. She tried her best to not listen, but his thoughts were loud, his emotions battling. There was anxiety, shaking him to the core. What was he so nervous about? She had a guess but she didn't want to pry. There was hope, excitement, too, like the breaking of a sun over a land that had known only darkness. His eyes remained ever glued to the landscape as it unfurled beneath them.

"Here," he said at last when the layered pyramids came into view beneath them, and she pulled the craft around so that they could land. The Earthwalker guards were on standby by the time the door opened. A glimpse of Fox and they settled back to their posts wordlessly. Still on edge after what transpired… it is only to be expected.

"I will see you back at the Great Fox," Fox said to her before the door closed behind him. The silence that ensued made her question her decision, question her resolve.

I must become stronger. I will become stronger.

Her fingers tightened about the steering controls of the carrier, and as Fox's ship rose with a whir, she did not give herself the chance to talk herself out of following. She steered the tired vessel towards the starry heavens, her heart beating quicker with every passing second. What is this nervousness? I have seen my own world destroyed, have been pursued across the Lylat System, have been a host to an otherworldly spirit, and have been put into the clutches of a madman. What more is there to fear? She accelerated without another thought, a fluttering in her chest. When the atmosphere was broken through and the celestial cloak of space opened before her, she felt a wave of relaxation. Her shoulders sagged, her posture lowering into an ungraceful but comfortable slouch.

This is the first step to something new.

She did not know why the tears formed at the edges of her eyes when she saw the Great Fox. There were odd energies in space and radiating from within her belongings. Cerinia was gone; she had told herself that long ago but it still seemed fresh. Calling a hulking piece of scrapmetal home… that seemed almost an insult, but Krystal smiled all the same. It was melancholy, but it was hopeful. She could sense adventure in her future—she could sense it even without her telepathy.

Docked onto the Great Fox, the Cerinian breathed out her worries. Out of habit, she grabbed her staff from its resting place on the side of the cockpit, sliding it into its leather sheath strapped to her back. She hit the button to open the sliding doors, and felt the coldness of the docking area brush against her face.

They were standing at the ready, donned in their matching jackets and each with a bandana tucked about their nape (Such an odd uniform, hardly fitting for melee combat, Krystal thought ruefully). The frog one looked as though he were about to wet himself from excitement, and the vixen found herself blushing under her fur. The bird tried to look apathetic, but she could feel an interest radiating from him—and perhaps something more sour. Judgmental sort, I would suspect. He did not meet her eye. The hare was polishing off the lens of his glasses when she approached them, and Fox was in front, a grin from ear-to-ear.

"Welcome to the team!" the old hare said, the others echoing a beat behind him.

"Thanks," She said with a humble bow and a laugh in her voice.

When I landed on Sauria, I could never have guessed what would come of it. Somehow, I don't think I'll regret this.