In Loving Memory
In the dead of night, the ice and snow swirled around Fox, blanketing the white landscape already buried in a knee-deep layer of winter precipitation. Feeling the chill beginning to penetrate through his thick jacket and his red scarf, he rubbed his gloved hands together and forced himself to keep moving.
If anyone had asked him why he had traveled to this forsaken, barren world of ice, he wouldn't have been able to give them a clear and compelling answer. The last six months had been the most difficult ones of his life; and to matters worse, most of his friends and former comrades were too busy to lend him a hand, even though each and every one of them echoed the same, repetitive sympathies.
But Fox didn't want sympathy – he wanted her back.
Willing himself to move forwards in spite of the oppressive conditions, he walked on, not knowing where he would find himself. His Arwing was already more than a mile behind him, lost to his vision in the blinding snow.
In the distance ahead of him, he saw the vague outline of a windswept chasm with sheer cliffs that appeared to have been made of brilliant crystal. The limited amount of ambient light reflected off of their glossy surfaces, creating an aurora of white light that tried but failed to light up the night. The night was without a moon, resulting in a dense darkness that fell across the planet.
The snow beneath Fox's feet soon changed to ice. "Must be a frozen river," he observed, looking at the slick surface and carefully stepping onto the thick ice, confident that it would support his weight. The wind never ceased to punish him as he trekked on, unguided except for a faint feeling in his mind that told him that he was headed in the right direction. The mental voice had manifested itself only a week ago, causing him to wonder if he was going insane. Then again, maybe he was.
He recalled the day that changed his life forever as clearly as if it had happened the day before. As it had many times before, it started with a mission call from the General of Corneria's armies – except that instead of General Pepper, it was Peppy.
"Star Fox, there's been a disturbance on Eledard. One of our main defense contractors is in danger. From what we can tell, a group of heavily armed mercenaries has entered the complex. That building houses an experimental chemical catalyst that would be fatal if it fell into enemy hands. Get over there ASAP and stop those men before they have the chance to locate that technology."
"You got it, Peppy," Fox replied, nodding in approval before turning to look at the rest of his crew. They may have aged somewhat, but none of them could be considered a slouch in the least. As usual, Falco projected an air of unfeigned confidence, while Slippy set his mind to work thinking about the logical possibilities that the upcoming mission could provide.
However, when Fox turned his attention to Krystal, she returned his gaze with a sad smile that caused him a great deal of discomfort. "What's wrong, Krys?" he asked, using the affectionate pet name that he had given her not too long ago.
The Cerinian closed her eyes and shook her head, causing her blue, bead-adorned hair to flutter in the air aboard the Great Fox II's bridge. "I don't know, Fox," she sighed, "It's just… I don't have a good feeling about this—that's all."
Fox smiled at his favorite blue vixen and patted her on the shoulder while Falco and Slippy left for the armory, where they began to arm themselves for the upcoming conflict. The vulpine was no stranger to Krystal acting this way. She had reacted similarly before the team had debarked from the original Great Fox to engage the Aparoids on their home planet. However, despite her fears and misgivings about the mission, it had turned out well in the end.
"Krystal, it's going to be alright—I promise," he assured her, running his fingers through her hair and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"If you say so, Fox," she replied, smiling through her discomfort as Fox ascended the nearby staircase and walked down the hall, intent on joining Falco and Slippy in the armory. Momentarily, Krystal followed him, although her normally sultry and confident walk was uncharacteristically nervous. Following the lead of her teammates, she strapped a black combat vest on over her blue bodysuit and pulled a compact assault rifle off its respective hook.
Moments later, the team situated themselves in their relatively small transport craft, painted in the same white and blue livery that their Arwings sported. Fox helmed the ship, with Falco taking the position as co-pilot. After Krystal and Slippy had buckled their seatbelts in the passenger area, Fox powered on the ship and left the Great Fox II's hangar. The industrial planet beckoned below them, its glowing lights and myriad conduit-like highways creating a spectacular display in the moonlit hemisphere where the research complex of interest was located.
While the yellow navigation beacon on the transport's central holoscreen guided them towards their target, Krystal sighed and lowered her head to her chest, prompting Slippy to stop checking his weapon and ask her, "Krystal, are you okay?"
Dismissing him with a wave of her hand, the vixen replied, "I'm fine, Slippy."
In a matter of moments, the transport passed through the planet's atmosphere and broke through the gray cloud cover that blanketed the heavily-industrialized planet. Large raindrops began to form on the transport's windshield, and a thunderbolt crashed nearby. Truly, a terrible night for an objective such as this one. The darkness and the rain created a dense shroud over the city from where the signal emanated, blanketing the metropolis in black.
Fox lowered the transport to the ground between two warehouses and switched off the engines. "Let's go, team. Be careful out there—we don't know who we're up against.
"You got it, Fox," Falco replied, confident that he and the rest of the team would be able to bring down the attackers with ease. The four exited down the ship's extended rear ramp and walked along the sides of the nearby industrial buildings. Each of their wrist-mounted interface units pointed them in the direction of a large, multi-tiered factory around a quarter mile from their location. The tall smokestacks and communications antennas could clearly be seen from their position, even through the rain.
"Cross over to the other side of the street," Fox ordered, holding his blaster at the ready.
"What did Peppy say was in there again?" Slippy asked, keeping his voice down as not to draw any attention to himself or his comrades.
Fox put his hand up to his mouth and whispered, "A chemical catalyst of some kind. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound good. Keep it down, team. Falco, did you bring a bolt cutter?"
"You bet, Fox." The avian glanced down at his belt to make sure that he actually had remembered it and nodded when he saw the bulky implement next to his left hip.
With Fox in the lead, Star Fox crept along the industrial sidewalk, sticking close together and making as little noise as physically possible. In a matter of moments, they reached the research complex's parking lot. To their dismay, the service door that led into the building had already been breached. The heavy, gray door hung open, allowing some of the driving rain to pour inside.
"Looks like they already found a way in," Fox muttered, stating the obvious. "I'll go first. Stick together, team. We can't risk getting separated in here."
Slippy, Falco, and Krystal nodded in agreement.
Fox stepped into the darkened building with his weapon drawn. He had attached a flashlight to his blaster in anticipation of a situation such as the one that he found himself in, but he elected not to use it in order to maintain the element of stealth. The factory floor that occupied the large room contained a number of computers and microscopes, all of which had been turned off. The area reeked of cleaning agents and was eerily silent.
"This way," Fox whispered, climbing a set of metallic stairs that led to an overwatch area above the laboratory floor. Making hardly a sound, the team ascended the staircase and stepped through an open door leading into the control room for the floor below. The smell of blood immediately became noticeable to the team's sensitive noses. Krystal yelped in reflex when she saw the dead body of the canine guard that had formerly worked as the night shift security officer for the complex. Blood coated the floor around him, and his face was twisted into a hellish expression that revealed the pain that he must have felt in his last seconds of life.
"Dang—he got it bad," Falco remarked.
Fox looked around the room and took notice of the door on the back wall. Looking away from the macabre remains of the security guard, he opened the door and stepped through with his teammates closely following him. With the enemy's presence confirmed, the four braced themselves for contact, knowing that potential danger awaited them from around every corner. The door in the back of the control room connected into a balcony that ran around the perimeter of a large, open area occupied by dozens of large barrels and crates.
Fox observed the signs on the walls around the room that warned them of the caustic chemicals stored within. In terms of size, the chamber was 50 meters wide and 150 meters long. Multiple skylights occupied most of the space on the ceiling; although in the darkness of the night, ambient light was virtually nonexistent.
At that moment, they heard the sound of voices from below and caught a glimpse of a heavily-armed lupine soldier stepping out onto the open floor below the balcony. He began to turn around, but before he could lock eyes with the mercenary group above him, Falco fired his blaster and dropped him to the ground. The explosive noise of his gunshot immediately alerted his nearby comrades to the presence of enemies. Within seconds, two more soldiers peeked out from behind some of the larger crates in the room and unloaded their fully-automatic weapons on Fox and his team, who hit the deck to avoid being struck by the fast-approaching laser blasts.
Attempting to hold down their position, Fox laid in a prone position on the floor and poked his blaster over the solid railing on the edge of the balcony. He pulled the trigger several times and hit nothing. "Good going, Falco!" he sarcastically remarked, bracing himself for more gunfire. "What you suggest we do now?"
"Just watch me, Fox," he replied, confident as always. The avian reached for the railing and vaulted over it, dropping twelve feet to the ground below and landing in a crouch with a solid thump. A primate soldier stepped out from behind a grouping of barrels in front of him, but Falco was ready for him. Another concussive blast reverberated through the room as the soldier dropped dead.
On the balcony above, Fox stood up and took cover behind a concrete column that functioned as a support for the room. "Krystal, create a diversion!" he ordered.
The vixen nodded her head and ripped a flash grenade off her combat suit's belt. Taking cover behind the reinforced pillar twenty feet to Fox's right, she stepped out and threw the 9-banger over the railing to the floor below. She made sure to hurl it over Falco's head to avoid blinding and disorienting her teammate.
The grenade detonated with a flash and a muffled explosion that was immediately followed by two groans from the floor below. Using Krystal's distraction to his advantage, Fox stepped out from behind his cover and sprinted along the balcony, using the laws of geometry to bring him into a position where he would be able to get at least two shots in at the disoriented soldiers. Slippy took Fox's former position and crouched behind the railing while Krystal opened fire on the large container that provided cover for their enemies.
Fox's eyes locked onto the two soldiers–an orange feline and a dusty-furred jackal–taking shelter behind the large container. While they yelled in pain from Krystal's flash grenade that had rendered them almost completely blind, the orange vulpine lined up his blaster's sights and fired three times. The first shot missed, but the other two found their targets. From the floor below, he heard Falco yelling, "There's one more down here, Fox!"
Stashing Falco's information in his mind, he sprinted back to where Slippy and Krystal still stood, watching the area below while Falco sprinted through the maze of crates and barrels that covered most of the floor. "There he is!" Fox announced, firing off a shot from his shoulder and striking a crate near the last remaining enemy soldier.
The black Labrador on the floor below launched a volley of automatic laser fire into Fox, Slippy, and Krystal's midst, causing the latter two to duck behind the concrete support pillars for cover. As the enemy raced through a gap in the crates, Fox opened fire on him and struck him in the shoulder. He roared in pain, but unlike his comrades, he stayed on his feet and took cover behind a mid-sized metal box.
Fox scanned the floor and saw Falco rapidly approaching the soldier's position with his gun ready. He knew that the injured soldier stood no chance against his teammate. In seconds, it would be over; and the Star Fox team would be able to add yet another successful mission to their résumé. Just as he prepared to hear Falco's blaster taking down the last of the targets, a yellow sphere flew through the air and ricocheted off the wall behind the balcony. It came to rest at Krystal's feet, glowing white with rays of light shooting out its core.
"KRYSTAL! GRENADE!"
The blue vixen's screams filled the air before the yellow grenade exploded, sending shrapnel into the air around it and creating a deadly shockwave. Then, all was silent. Fox heard Falco's gunfire ring out, but his world had already slowed to a crawl. Dazed and in shock, he sprinted towards Krystal's body and dropped to his knees. The only thing recognizable about her was her blue fur, singed and burnt by the blast. Blood covered the floor around her lifeless form and dripped from the pillar that she had been taking cover behind.
Fox wept, holding his head in his hands and screaming until he passed out. Hours later, he awoke on the emergency bed inside the team's transport ship with Falco and Slippy standing beside him. Regaining his consciousness, he glanced to his right and saw a body-sized black bag placed against the ship's right wall. The tears immediately returned; and there was nothing Falco or Slippy could do to comfort him.
That was how it had been for him ever since that day.
The snow continued to fall from the sky as Fox walked between the icy cliff walls bordering the frozen river. He was numb to the core, but not because of the weather. He had felt this way ever since that grenade exploded and took the life of the one that mattered most to him. The canyon continued for more than five miles, but Fox pushed himself on, driven by an intangible motive that even he was not fully aware of. All he knew was that he was heading in the right direction. The snow seemed to increase in intensity the farther he went until he could see nothing at all—only a vast expanse of white.
He shielded his eyes with his arm and forced himself to continue onward. He could feel that he was nearing his destination even though he could see nothing at all. Suddenly, he hit something. With the driving snow obscuring his vision, he was unable to determine what it was; but it was solid. The surface was covered in snow, but it gave off a hollow 'thud' when he slammed into it, leading him to believe that it was made of wood or some similar material.
Any further attempts to ascertain what it was that he had hit were interrupted when a white-covered panel to his right slid open. A milky feminine voice accompanied the unexpected opening. "Come in, traveler."
Without a word, Fox obeyed and stumbled into the dark interior of the dwelling. The only sources of light were a small number of scented candles scattered around the room that was decorated in an esoteric, exotic fashion with luxurious rugs and carpets covering the hard floor. Several large rocks and gemstones sat in prominent places within the dwelling, reflecting the dim light that radiated from the maple-scented candles.
"Krystal's favorite kind, if I remember correctly," Fox recollected, breathing in the warm, welcoming scent of the room. On the ground at the back of the small abode was a warm fire; and behind it, the building's lone resident. She was a white vulpine female clad in a heavy white coat with white fur lining the collar area. Tight-fitting white trousers covered her legs, although she wore no shoes. Long, white hair flowed down the sides of her face all the way to her shoulders. Thick, lush fur covered her body, leading Fox to believe that her heavy clothing wasn't entirely necessary. "Sit down," she said, her voice maintaining its eerie, soothing quality. Fox seated himself across from her at the fire and looked into her wild, green eyes. "What brings you to this wasteland?" the vixen asked.
Fox crossed his legs and looked down at the floor. "I really don't know. The only thing I can tell you is that I felt something telling me to head all the way out here."
"I see," the vixen replied, running her fingers through her icy hair. "Looking for something that you lost, perhaps?"
Fox's eyes widened. "How did you know?"
The arctic vixen smiled and answered, "I came here for the same reason. This planet used to be the home of a proud, powerful civilization, but changes beyond their control reduced it to an icy, barren expanse of nothing more than snow and ice. I can relate to them—I suppose that's why I'm still here, actually."
Running his eyes over the vixen's features and closely examining her, Fox spoke, "You're very beautiful. What's your name?"
His host smiled her regards to him for his compliment and replied, "I'm nobody—a shadow of someone long-forgotten, that's all I am. At one point, I had a name; but it means nothing now. Names and titles don't mean anything out here. The snow and the ice cover everything, even memories."
Fox furrowed his eyebrows and sighed, "Did you ever think about leaving this place? Doesn't it get lonely out here?"
"Perhaps I'll leave soon, now that you're here," she replied, feathering her muzzle while Fox's face twisted into an inquisitive expression.
"What do you mean by that?" Fox demanded, his voice becoming more and more unnerved with every word the vixen spoke.
In her milky, dulcet voice, the white fox explained, "I've been waiting for you. I knew you would come here eventually." Momentarily, she stood up and walked around the fire before sitting down next to Fox. She turned to look into his eyes, allowing him to briefly smell her minty breath. "Tell me what troubles you, my friend," she whispered. "You can rest assured knowing that you can trust me."
The strange vixen's presence put him on edge; but for some reason, Fox felt that he had met her before. Even though she possessed a soothing air that put Fox at ease, he still felt uneasy explaining himself to her. Reluctantly, he murmured, "Six months ago, my closest friend was brutally killed. I saw the whole thing happen right in front of me, and the thought of it still makes me sick to this day. She—Krystal—meant so much to me." Tears began to form in his eyes as he explained, "I felt responsible for keeping her safe; and when she died, I blamed myself for it. No one could ever take her place in my life."
The white vixen sighed and looked at Fox, sadness welling up in her emerald eyes. The pain in her being was so tangible that it caused Fox to wonder if she had experienced a trauma similar to his own. Very faintly, she replied, "And no one ever will. But that's part of death. You won't be able to replace her, but you can still open up another piece of your heart for someone else. She won't love you the same way that Krystal did, but you may find something in her that your dearly departed could never give you."
Fox lowered his head and dropped his ears. Shaking his head, he muttered, "I don't think I'll be able to love again after what happened to Krystal. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as seeing her be killed in front of my eyes. I never wanted to live without her; and I was afraid that something like this would happen eventually." He trailed off and stared into the fire. "…If only I had known."
"Things are always clearer in hindsight," the vixen opined. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen to her, so stop beating yourself up over it."
Holding back the tears, Fox clenched his teeth and forced out his reply. "She warned me about it. She knew that something bad was going to happen."
"No, she didn't," the icy vixen retorted, never raising her voice. "The only thing she knew was that she had an uncomfortable feeling about the future."
The remark incensed Fox. Boiling in anger, he snarled and shoved his host to the floor of the dwelling. Gripping her neck with his right hand, he roared, "How do you of all people know that?!"
Fear radiated from the vixen's eyes as Fox tightened his grip on her neck and repeatedly yelled, "Tell me!" Overcome by the fear and turmoil that engulfed her, she found herself temporarily unable to reply. Feebly, she struggled for breath and whimpered, "I've been in her position before. I know how it feels to know that something unfortunate is about to happen to you. But no matter how you feel about it, it never turns out the way you think it will. Krystal didn't know that she was going to die—she only had a feeling that something bad was going to happen."
Fox gave the vixen's neck a final, firm choke before he released her and sat up in front of the fire. Still fuming, he demanded, "Why were you so interested in bringing me all the way out to this awful place? Did you just want to hurt me more?"
"No," she whimpered, forcing herself off the floor and reclaiming her spot next to Fox. "I wanted you to realize that you can overcome your loss and take your life back. Krystal wouldn't want to see you this way. I don't want to see you this way. You have friends that love you and care about you, no?"
"Yeah," Fox wearily replied, "But they're too busy with problems of their own."
"How can you be so sure that you weren't trying to push them away from yourself?" the vixen suggested. "If you give them a chance, I bet they'll be more than happy to help you. Please—do it for Krystal. She'd want you to move on."
Fox sighed and watched the sparks flash out of the fire in front of him, all the while contemplating what the white vixen had said to him. He knew that she was right. Krystal would want him to move on with his life instead of living in constant regret over an event that she couldn't have possibly predicted. Feeling remorseful for nearly choking his host, Fox turned to face the vixen and apologized, "I'm sorry for hurting you. It's just… I've had a lot on my mind. I didn't mean for it all to come out like that."
"I understand. I really can't blame you for what you did," she replied, standing up and walking to the back wall. She pushed open a small panel and gazed outside at the white expanse that covered the entire planet before turning to Fox and telling him, "The snow's stopped. You can go now. I apologize for this, but I don't have room for you to stay here."
Indignant, Fox stood up and clenched his fists. "That's it? I came all the way out here to talk with a complete stranger and then go back?"
"You've done much more than that," the vixen replied. "I can rest in peace now, thanks to you."
Fox shook his head in bewilderment and stepped towards the door, muttering, "Somehow, I thought that by doing this, I would have a chance to see her again."
As he pushed the door open, he heard a different voice behind him—a voice that he had heard many times before.
"You have, Fox. You just didn't realize it."
He spun on his heels and looked back into the building; but before he could identify the source of the voice, a flash of white obscured his vision. A loud beeping noise filled his ears, disorienting him even further as the white vixen's voice echoed in his head.
"It's time to move on, Fox."
Fox opened his eyes and sat up. He was in his bed in the house he had recently purchased for himself on Corneria. He had bought it in hopes that he and Krystal would wed and live in it afterwards; but without her, it was a lonely place.
He glanced over at his alarm clock. The time read '0800 hours,' and its obnoxious synthetic bell alarm was ringing in full force. Grunting in disgust, he punched the button that deactivated the alarm and climbed out of bed. He stood in front of his mirror, mounted on top of his dresser where a single candle was burning. A scented maple candle. He didn't remember lighting it; and even if he had, it would have burned out during the night.
He gazed at the small flame that flickered in the morning light coming in through his windows and sighed. Another day without her. The candle brought back every reminder of his journey to the world of ice and the enigmatic stranger he had spoken with, from her brilliant white fur to her voice that could have dripped honey. He shook his head, realizing who it was that he had been speaking with the entire time. There was no doubt in his mind that it was his departed friend who wanted nothing more than to see him move on after losing her.
"Thanks, Krys," he whispered.
Seconds later, his doorbell rang. "I'll be right there!" he yelled, digging through his drawers and pulling out a pair of sweat pants that he donned before sprinting to the front door and opening it. Standing on the front doorstep was Fara Phoenix, beautifully arrayed with a slim-fitting white dress with a belt circling her midsection. A small red rose sat next to her long ear, nestled in between her strands of sandy hair that she had recently begun to grow out. A complete contradiction to Fara, Fox was dressed only in his sweat pants and the blue t-shirt that he had worn to bed.
Noticing Fox's "leisurely" attire, Fara asked him, "Is this a bad time?"
"Um…no, it's fine," he replied. "Why are you here?"
The fennec vixen gave him an understanding look and replied, "Falco told me that you hadn't been doing well lately, so I came to check up on you. I didn't want you to do anything…you know…drastic."
Fox attempted to laugh off Fara's comment, but he couldn't hide the fact that he had considered ending it all on more than one occasion. "Yeah…I," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head, unable to form a reply.
"Do you mind if I come in?" Fara asked, opening her palms and perking up her ears and tail. "…Or I could come back some other time…"
"No—it's fine," Fox interjected. "I could use some company. Have you eaten yet?"
"No," she replied, "What do you have?"
Fox rolled his eyes. "Cereal. That's about it. Still interested?"
The fennec grinned at him and shook her tail. "Cereal sounds good to me. How about we go out on the town after you put some nicer clothes on?"
"Are you asking me out?" Fox asked, laughing at the beige vixen, who smiled in return and shrugged her shoulders.
"Maybe…" she replied with a devious grin on her lips. "I thought you might like it. Besides, I didn't think you'd have the guts to ask me out anyway."
Fox's eyes widened before he scowled and retorted, "Hey—that wasn't nice!"
Fara giggled and asked the offended vulpine, "So, are you going to let me in, or what?"
"Sure thing," he replied. "What kind of cereal would you like? All I have is a box of Raisin Flakes and a half-eaten package of Sugar Grahams."
"Sugar Grahams, of course," said the vixen with a smile. "Who wouldn't want those?"
Fox laughed at Fara's response and stepped into the house with her. As the two walked through Fox's living room, he stopped beside his coffee table and picked up the framed portrait of Krystal that he had placed there. With a sad smile, he took one long look at the picture of his departed friend before he put it back and joined Fara in the kitchen for breakfast.
AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):
This one was...well...interesting to write. Hopefully it turned out to be something worth reading. As I mentioned earlier, I'm going to turn what was originally a one-shot into a collection of Fox/Krystal shorts. I suppose you can't ever have enough of that pairing. The title will remain the same, and the topics contained in the various shorts will run the gamut from being tragic and depressing (like this one) to fluffy and lighthearted.
Also, I wrote this entire chapter on my tablet, mainly using the touchscreen instead of the keyboard attachment that I bought for it. So, that means that anybody who uses a tablet as an excuse to write poorly-executed literature no longer has that excuse!
