AUTHOR'S NOTE: He guys! Sorry I keep re-uploading this chapter, but I wasn't as thorough with the proof reading this chapter as I wanted, so please forgive me
Thanks!
WolF

Chapter Three

Resonance

1924 hours (7:24 Cornerian standard time)

February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)

Planet Kew, Detrymin City,

Cornerian Central Mining Company (CCMC) Housing Compound

Krystal gave a satisfied sigh as she set her spoon in the empty soup bowl. Jean had prepared a very quick meal, a soup of noodles with beef broth and chunks of steak that had been added to the mix. She also smelled and tasted soy sauce in the broth, which gave it a very good flavor with the beef flavored broth. She licked her lips and leaned back in her chair.

"Absolutely delicious," Krystal said

When they reached the CCMC compound, they had passed through with little to no trouble. The guards were a little uncertain about letting in a stranger, as Krystal had predicted, but after much reassurance by Jean, they let her through, as he predicted.

Jean smiled at her through his thick grey mustache. "Good, I'm glad you liked it. It's and incredibly simple recipe, yet it yields so much flavor. I do wish I could have prepared a more proper meal, but it would have taken too long. And I sense you have somewhere to go."

Krystal looked at him. He was right. Ducane said that the last shipment would leave for its destination early the next morning. She really needed to get some sleep and be ready for tomorrow. She also had to meet with the Cornerian agent who would also be undercover. The only problem was she had no knowledge of who he was.

All she knew is that he would make contact with her by saying, "November is in truth". She would respond, "Then I am filled with cold lies." She had no idea what it was supposed to mean, but that didn't really matter. She would then relinquish the coordinates for Ducane's safe house and the merchandise warehouse. She hadn't even gone over the info in the PDA Ducane had given her.

As she thought about all this, she hadn't even noticed Jean had taken her bowl to the sink and began washing it. When she realized this she jumped up from the table to help, but Jean had already turned to her and said, "Don't worry about it. You look like you got a lot on your mind."

He couldn't be more right. Krystal pushed in her chair and walked into the living room. Jean's home was a two bed roomed condo that was the perfect size for someone who lived on their own. The living room had hard wood ebony floors with a dark red and white rug in the center with a stone coffee table on top. On the left side of the table sat a black leather recliner. The recliner appeared as if it had been sat in for many years.

The wall next to the recliner was a granite fireplace and above it was a 42 inch plasma flat screen tv. The wall across from the fireplace was a book shelf that was built in the wall. The eight shelves were filled with books of different sizes. There were a few framed pictures as well; one in particular caught her eye. She approached the book shelf and grasped the framed 5 by 5 photo.

In the picture was a young chocolate lab in a Cornerian military dress uniform. But it was not one she recognized. She knew that the Cornerian Marine Corp officers wore a dress blue uniform with a blood red stripe down the middle of the uniform. She knew that the Cornerian Naval officers-or Cornerian Space Naval Forces- wore a completely white dress uniform with two blue stripes on both arms of the jacket.

But the officer in the photo, a chief warrant officer, wore a black dress uniform with a blood red stripe down the center and two red stripes on both arms. This one wore a black beret with a red and black flash on the beret. The ribbons on the left breast of the uniform looked like a small flag with a variety of colors.

He had three medals pinned on the opposite side; a silver star, a Cornerian Medal of Valor, and a Purple Heart. Two of the ribbons she recognized also; an electrical blue, dark blue and mechanical grey ribbon showing that the man in the photo had served in the Aparoid Crisis. The other was lavender with magenta and cyan mixed in. She knew this as a service ribbon from the Anglar Blitz. Before she saw the ribbons, she began to think it was Jean in the picture, but the ribbons proved it wasn't him.

As she looked at the photo, Jean approached her, this time Krystal was aware of his movements. She turned to him and showed him the picture. But before she could ask he answered her question.

"His name is Kona. He's my son." Krystal remembered Jean saying if the guards wouldn't let her into the compound that he would tell the guards that she was his son's fiancé come to visit him. She didn't think that he actually had a son.

In the picture, Kona stood up straight as a bored, with a blank emotionless face. It may have been emotionless but it was strong also. His yellow eyes stood out a good deal. They looked like the eyes of a hawk, always fierce and always on the hunt for prey. They were piercing, as if the framed photo was staring right into Krystal's soul. On the bridge of Kona's nose was a dirty blonde spot.

"What's that on his nose," she asked the father of the framed soldier.

Jean laughed, "That's a birth mark he got from his mother. She was a chocolate lab too, but she had bits of blonde in her hair and fur. With the way it mixes in his brown fur, it almost looks like dirt on his nose."

Krystal laughed as well, "I bet he didn't care for it too much."

"He got picked on a lot when he was in school because of it, but he came through. Lord knows he had a tuff enough life as it was," Jean said moving away from the photo the old leather recliner.

"I'm glad he decided to get of this rock. I wish I could have worked hard enough to send him of to a university, but the life of a miner was hard back then. But look at him now," he said pointing to the three year old photo, "a soldier. Lord have mercy, I thought I never see that day." Jean wore a proud smile as he looked on at his photographed son.

Krystal walked across the room and looked out a window towards the city. The three towers stood above all else into the dingy colored sky. Although it was still only a little after noon here, back on Corneria the sun would be half way down the horizon. From what Ducane said, the last shipment would be transported tomorrow. Krystal guessed that they would leave in the early hours of morning, sometime right before or around dawn.

That gave her plenty of time to head back to the Royal Dragon and get some rest. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. "What about you Krystal," Jean said snapping Krystal out of thoughts, "do you have any loved ones. A husband... A boyfriend surly."

Krystal thought about this for a second. She turned around and faced Jean. "Yes, I do. But I haven't seen him in awhile," said Krystal. Jean could hear the longing in her voice.

Jean asked, "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Six months ago… I haven't spoken to him since."

Jean gave her a questionable look, "Did you two break up? Must have been some big fight."

"No no, nothing like that… I had to… I…," Krystal couldn't find a way to explain it to him without leaking out details. "It's complicated."

Jean got up and approached her. "Krystal, let me ask you something. Do you love this man?" The words made Krystal's heart rate increase.

She answered immediately, "Yes."

Jean asked next, "And does he love you?"

She didn't respond until five long seconds had past, "Yes, he does."

Jean's smile returned, "Then why are you here? You're still young. The both of you have the rest of your lives to live, and you're here on this cesspool of a planet."

"I know," Krystal said, "I know. And I want to be with him more than anything else. It's just…. I have something to do hear…It's important." Tears began form in her eyes, but Krystal rubbed them out before they had a chance to escape.

Jean put his hand on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "It's ok Krystal. I don't know what it is that's so important you have to do in this awful city, but I know that it must be important if you're here."

Krystal tried her hardest to fight back the wave of emotions coming over her, but she had never talked to anyone about this in so many months. She hugged Jean with shaky arms and Jean embraced her like she was his own.

"Don't cry my dear. It will be all right," Jean said holding the sobbing vixen. "Listen to me," he said bring her back, face to face. "If it was me in your place, I'd do whatever it is that needs doing so. The faster you finish this, the sooner you two will be together. So don't cry. It's will all work out in the end."

Krystal gave him the best smile she could muster, "Thank you… Thank you so much." She hugged the old man again, tighter this time.

The old lab smiled and said, "Now I don't know this man, but if he truly loves you, you'll be seeing him sooner than you might think."

"What makes you think that," Krystal asked wiping her tears off her face.

"Well, if it was me separated from my love for that long, then I'd go through hell just to find her again."

Krystal smiled at this thought. She smiled because she knew that Fox would do the very same thing… and then some. It would come as a surprise to her later, but when it would come, a part of her would be expecting it. When she and the man she loved would finally be reunited.

1924 hours (7:30 Cornerian standard time)

February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)

Planet Kew, Detrymin City Outskirts

Unknown Dragon Warehouse

Ducane sat in his office at the warehouse where the drugs, weapons, and girls were being loaded on to cargo ships to be shipped to the Dragon Marketplace at the Meteo instillation. He would be leaving that night to see that last of the shipments arrive at the Dragon Market. His office had been cleared of anything that could be traced. It looked exactly the way he had found it, abandoned. He finished looking over the last of the paper work that showed who held ownership of the Royal Dragon.

Of course the form had an alias name on it, but the Cornerians would soon be able to find out about it and they would be after him again. He had to give them something that would satisfy the Cornerian's appetite. Tonight was the anniversary party for the Royal Dragon. All the members of his committee, the men who ran the markets through out Lylat, would be attending the party.

He was sure that the Cornerian military would raid the club and the warehouse soon. Though he didn't have enough intel to precisely say whether or not the Cornerians even knew where to attack, he had to assume his whole operation on Kew was compromised. When they raided his club, they would find the members of his committee. They were cowards, who were only concerned with money and their own survival. If they were captured, he knew that they would tell the Cornerians everything they knew.

Although they had no knowledge of his identity, the committee members knew the locations of the individual markets within Lylat, except for the one in Meteo. Each one of the committee members would give up the info that would hamper Ducane's efforts to regain control. If this happened, it would take years for Ducane to reestablish any footholds on any planet in Lylat. He was not going to let that happen. He had worked for to long and had sacrificed too much to get this far, and nothing was going to stop him now, not Corneria, not Lylat, not even God himself.

Ducane signed the last of the club lease papers and the sat back and examined the lease papers. It was finished. He now no longer owned the Royal Dragon. It now was owned by the name Ducane signed in the papers. The name of his soon to be sacrificial lamb and his double. The signature read: Entri Keldom. Ducane's toothy grin began to form.

He had not meant for Entri to be thrown to the wolves, but sacrifices had to be made if the Dragon Market was going to continue. He felt no remorse for doing so. He felt no shame. He had done this kind of thing to many times since he had started the Dragon Market, so he was used to it. He did feel some pity for Entri though. But he did take some comfort in that Entri would have some last moments of happiness before his death.

While Entri posed as the Sin Dragon at the anniversary party tonight, Voldric would tell the staff that Entri was to be given the time of his life. He would be allowed to eat as much as he wanted, drink as much as he wanted, and sleep with any of the girls who worked in the strip club at the Royal Dragon. Then when the Cornerians raided the place, Voldric would stage a shoot out and kill all the committee members and Entri.

Ducane was worried at first if Voldric would be able to carry out his orders or not. He and Entri had worked together for some time, and although the never cared for each other's company, Ducane felt that they had gained a professional respect for each other. But Ducane knew Voldric. He knew that Voldric would do what was necessary. Voldric was Ducane's top assassin and he had never failed him. He would not now. All that Ducane had to do was give Voldric his orders and he would take Entri to the Royal Dragon and get the party started.

His pieces were almost in place, save for two: Voldric and Entri. He had not heard from them since he had given them his orders an hour ago. He wondered how their mission was going. Just then somebody busted into his office.

Abbas approached his desk, in a hurry too. "What is it Abbas," Ducane said to his body guard.

"Sir, its Entri and Voldric. There here," Abbas said, a nervous tone was in his voice.

"Good it's about time. They had better have some good info for me," Ducane said getting up from his desk.

Before Ducane could head for the door, Abbas stopped him. "Sir, there's something else."

"What," the Sin Dragon questioned.

Abbas told him, and what Ducane heard set his rage ablaze.

_X

Ducane did not walk out the door. He busted through it. The door's wooden frame had been subjected to years of termite damage. The hinges were old and rusted, just like the rest of the warehouse. So when Ducane ran through the door, he literally ran through it. The door exploded into dozens of pieces. Two of the hinges had been ripped off as well, attached to large pieces of rotted wood.

He didn't even notice the door he had just broken through. Ducane ran across the cat walk that led to the metal staircase. Abbas was far behind him, following his master as fast as he could. Ducane flew down the stair case so fast, Abbas couldn't believe that he hadn't tripped or fallen down. When the Sin Dragon's feet left the rusted steel stair case, they were set to the warehouse's concrete floor.

The warehouse looked like an old aircraft hanger. It had the two large bulk head doors that opened horizontally and the building structure was set up like a hanger, but the warehouse was fundamentally much larger than an old hanger. The ground floor was a few thousand square feet and it was at least thirty feet from the ground floor to the rafters and the ceiling. There were tons of metal storage units stacked up on top of each other, but these were all empty.

Ducane reached the doors and walked through the ten foot gap between the two doors. Outside the warehouse were several cargo ships with loading crews stowing crates of weapons in their hulls. The drugs were kept in environmentally sealed crates, so as to keep them from contamination. The girls were also loaded into metal storage units, but those units had holes drilled in the ceiling to let in air.

The Sin Dragon saw a large group of men standing around in front of the warehouse. When he reached the outside of the group, Ducane began to shove his way through the men standing there towards the center. Lying on the ground, in the center of the group was Entri and Voldric, both of them looked like hell. Voldric was sitting upright, arms on his knees and his chest exhaling and inhaling rhythmically. Entri was lying face down unconscious on the crack concrete, several spots on his head were bleeding, a large purple bruise had began to swell on his right jaw bone, and his eye on the same side had been blackened.

Voldric looked up and saw Ducane standing over the both of them. "I'm sorry Marten, but we lost Kursed," Voldric looked down at the ground, ashamed and broken.

Ducane took a knee and put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. Voldric looked into Ducane's eyes. They were calm, but there was an underlying rage beneath that calm facade. "What happened Voldric? Who did this to you both?"

"We had been tailing Kursed, but she was heading for that Cornerian Mining compound. Entri had come up with a plan of enlisting some of his old friends from the Claws gang. But some guy…" Voldric voice trailed off and his sight line returned to the ground. At that moment Ducane saw something he had never seen in Voldric: Fear.

"Voldric," Ducane said.

Voldric's eyes returned to the Sin Dragon. "Some guy busted into the place and killed all of the Claws, and left Entri and I alive… But he beat the hell out of us. He said…"

He trailed off again, but only for a few seconds. "He said to tell the other Claws to get out of the district. That it was Fang territory now."

Ducane made an angry frown. He got up from his knees and turned around and walked out of the crowd. He stood there alone thinking. What Voldric had said about the Fangs was unsettling in his stomach. Abbas had told him earlier that both the leaders of the Claws were infuriated by an attack on one of their gangs. They had said if something wasn't done by Ducane to fix the situation, they would split from the pact Ducane had made years ago and they would seek retribution against the Fangs.

Abbas, not three minutes after receiving the Claws' message, received one from the Fangs as well. They denied having any involvement in the attack and the murder of the Claws members, and also that whoever committed those murders was not a member of the Fangs.

Now, the startling and unsettling truth was now a reality. The two gangs would soon be at war again, and Ducane doubted that there was anything he could say or do to fix it. The Claws had always been quick to shoot first and never ask questions. The Fangs were always very mild mannered on the outside, but when it came down to it, could be extremely violent. Ducane knew that the Claws would strike first, and when they did the Fangs would be at Ducane for help. The Claws would accuse him of double crossing them if he did help.

It came down to his next move: What to do?

Abbas approached him, having been outside the crowd as Ducane began to talk to Voldric. "The gangs are going to be looking for your support sir."

"I know Abbas," Ducane said flatly. The look on his face made Abbas think he had tasted something rather unpleasant.

"If I may say, sir, the Fangs would be the most reasonable one's to help. From the look of things, it doesn't-"

"Sound like the Fangs attacked," Ducane said finishing his bodyguard's sentence.

"Yes, yes exactly!" Abbas said.

Ducane knew from the moment Abbas told him about the gang situation, right before he busted through the rotted door of his office, that the Fangs were in no way involved in the attack. The Fangs were much more collected and civilized then the Claws, and possibly more violent. No Fang would ever purposely go looking for trouble. Ducane wasn't sure about this, but he had a feeling, paranoid or not, that the Cornerians had something to do with this.

'Well played, Hare… Well played indeed,' Ducane thought clenching his fists tighter and tighter.

"Your orders, sir. Shall we aid the Fangs?" Abbas asked

Ducane replied coldly, "No."

"The Claws then?" Abbas inquired again.

"No," Ducane repeated just as coldly.

Abbas was puzzled. "Sir?"

Ducane turned to face his bodyguard, "We're leaving Kew. That means we leave no traces. The gangs have served there purpose, now I will wash my hands of them and let them crucify each other."

Abbas had never heard such cruel hatred from his master in many years. His silent rage seemed to glow around him like a black red aura. He reeked of anger. Abbas was only comforted by the fact that he was on his side.

"As you wish, sir." Abbas said calmly

"For now we stick to the plan." Ducane said turning around, "Get those two cleaned up and ready for the anniversary party."

"Yes sir, it will be done." Abbas bowed as his master walked back to the warehouse. Ducane didn't so much as glance over his shoulder. He was going back to his office to take out his anger and frustration on the walls and the furniture. He would later make it look like there had been a bar fight in the small cramped space.

X

1945 hours (7:45 Cornerian standard time)

February 5, 26 ALW

Planet Kew, Detrymin City

The Royal Dragon Casino and Gentlemen's Club

Kursed approached the Royal Dragon's entrance. The two bouncers from earlier that day had taken their old positions on either side of the door. She didn't look directly at either one of them as she walked up to the door, but did she give off a toothy smile as she walked past them, showing off her pearly white fangs. The wolverine and the boxer, especially the boxer, felt a cold chill run up their spines. The both of them tried their hardest to ignore her, keeping their head and eyes directly foreword.

She opened one of the glass doors and walked inside. The bouncers suddenly felt a wonderful feeling of relief wash over them. They looked over and smiled weakly at one another. But suddenly fear clutched them again. They heard a voice, the voice of a woman who enjoyed seeing the purest form of fear in anyone she came across.

"Don't relax just yet, boys. My fun with you isn't over." The voice ended with maniacal, insane laughter that made the bouncer's thick and strong muscled legs become as limp as wet noodles.

They both looked around them, expecting to find some one hiding behind the corner whispering that bone chilling voice and laughing that cackle of insanity into their ears. But there was no one around them but each other.

Except their ears heard nothing. They heard the voice from inside them selves, inside their heads. The boxer must have reached his limit, because the moment after the laughter stopped, he screamed bloody murder and fell to his knees, terror clawing at his fragile mind. The wolverine went over to his partner to try to help him, just as afraid as he was.

Kursed laughed loudly as she walked across to the middle of the casino up to the staircase. She could feel the tension of anyone who heard her laugh. She loved using her telepathy to scare the living crap out of people, especially her enemies. It brought such a sweet satisfaction to her.

There were now more people in the casino then there had been earlier. Employees had been busily preparing the casino for some grand event, and then they heard Kursed's dark laughter and they all stopped dead in their tracks. She kept the laughter up as she ascended the casino staircase. She reached the top of the stairs and continued down the right hall until her laughter could be heard no more.

The casino employees loosened up for a total of three seconds, and then they heard the sobbing screams from the boxer outside the door. And again, they all felt the contagious grasp of fear in them all. They all had been infected by the fear spread by a truly evil woman.

X

She stepped off the elevator and onto the top floor of the Royal Dragon. Krystal felt awful. She felt guilty and responsible for Kursed having set fear ablaze in those people. She knew none of them, yet she felt that no one should be subjected to that kind of terror. She wished she had never turned to Kursed to help her in this mission. It was like selling your soul to the devil, and having the devil periodically take control of you.

'Why are you feeling sorry for them?' Kursed's voice echoed through her mind. 'Now they are afraid of us! No one could possibly want to mess with us now!'

Krystal sighed. She didn't answer her. She hated talking to the separate mind within her consciousness. It made her feel nauseous. Though Kursed was very powerful and could often over power Krystal and take control, the mind and body still belong to Krystal, so she was sometimes able to lock Kursed away in the darkest recess of her mind. But often Krystal suspected that Kursed enjoyed being down there, like a child who finds sitting in the corner a fun game instead of punishment.

The elevator had opened up to a much smaller hallway that the one Ducane's bodyguard had led her through. The hall was at least fifteen feet long with glass doors on both sides that lead to what looked like a balcony. Directly in front of the elevator, about seven to eight feet away, was an old fashioned lock and knob door. The door was black with red trim around it. The hallway ways were painted the same dark red that colored Ducane's scales. The ceiling crown molding was painted gold with intricately carved designs in the wood.

Whoever had been paid to design and build this hall way must have been a skilled craftsman, Krystal thought gawking at the halls design. She moved towards the black door with the silver lock and knob. At first she thought the sliver plated lock and the knob had deep scratches on it, but on closer inspection discovered that the lock and the knob had the same intricate design had been crafted into the metal work of the lock and knob. The designs were colored black and greatly resembled the tribal style tattoos Krystal would expect to see on the arms and backs of men. Some men from Cerinia even carried almost identical tattoo patterns on their bodies. It was a design worn by warriors.

This made Krystal sick to think that Ducane might think of him self as a warrior. 'No… Not a warrior', her thoughts whispered, 'a Fool who ruins lives…'

Krystal reached into her left pants pocket and pulled out the key ring Ducane had given her. "One opens the suite, the other opens anything inside the suite," she said quoting Ducane's words out loud.

She slipped one of the keys inside the keyhole on the sliver and tribal decorated lock plate. When the key fit snuggly inside, she twisted the key to the left. There was a distinct sound of tumblers turning and a quiet click inside the plate. Krystal grasped her hand around the knob and turned it. The door opened and Krystal stepped inside a spacious, beautifully decorated living room. The floor around the door was stone tile floor, a place for the suite's occupants to remove their shoes, no doubt. The tile only centered around the door, as the rest of the living room floor was covered in a soft, short white-gray colored carpet.

Krystal shut the door behind her, almost forgetting to take the key out of the door. After she closed the door, she went straight to unlacing her boots. She had to sit down on the tile as she started pulling on her right boot. After a couple of tugs, the boot slipped of revealing Krystal's sock covered foot. She repeated the process with the other boot. She then pulled both socks off her feet and stood up.

The tile was cold underneath her feet, but it felt nice. She took one solid step onto the carpet. She smiled at the carpet's silky smooth feel. The living room had two black futons on either side of a glass coffee table, above which was a glass light fixture. The futons looked like if they were pushed backwards they would flatten into a bed. The suite had ceiling to floor windows that let in a great deal of sun light. Krystal walked across the living room and saw that there was a large balcony with a hot tub, deck chairs, and a sun awning that was rolled up.

Krystal looked to her left and saw a door with the same style lock that she had opened the suite's entrance door. She looked down at the keys in her hand and ran her thumb over the key she hadn't used yet. She walked to the door and inserted the key and grasped the knob. She twisted the key and then did the same with the door knob. The door opened into a luscious and very furnished kitchen.

She walked in and found that the carpet had ended at the door and brown hardwood flooring took its place. The kitchen had stoves built into the wall, one above the other, and next to them was a glass ceramic electric stove with five burners. Adjacent to the electric stove was a double bowled sink , a dish washer between the stove and the sink but closer to the floor, and a large fridge at the end of the counter close to the door; all the necessities of a standard kitchen, but all stainless steel and very expensive looking.

Across from the kitchen appliances was and island with a cutting board style counter top. The island was about the same length as the counter from the dish washer to the fridge (about four and half feet. She opened one of the drawers that occupied the side of the island and found a set of steel forks, knives and spoons, all nicely polished in there individual dividers.

She shut the drawer and examined the rest of the room. Across the kitchen was a round wooden table with six chairs that sat in front of another glass wall that looked out onto the balcony outside. She just now realized this, but balcony and the patio did not match the view. Beyond the balcony was just rusty brown horizon with dirt colored clouds. The cityscape below was also easy to see from the balcony, and it wasn't very uplifting either. Krystal felt this building, or this suite at least, was incredibly out of place. This was the kind of suite that belonged in a five star hotel at some tropical resort.

Not a rundown, criminal infested city. She sighed and walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room. She crossed the living room and sat down on the futon closest to the kitchen door. There was another door across the living room, exactly adjacent to the kitchen door. She had no clue what was behind that door, but she would figure out later. She hadn't seen the suitcase with her credits in it in the suite yet, so maybe it was in the room behind that door.

She would soon find out. Right now, she had only one thing on her mind. She reached into her camisole's right pocket and remove the PDA Ducane had given her. She then unzipped the camisole and pulled it of her torso, revealing a tight fitted white tank top. She sat her camisole to the side and leaned back into the futon. Krystal turned on the PDA's power and waited for the home screen to appear. When it finally did, there was a file on the home screen that was labeled "MISSION BREIFING".

She poked the touch screen and opened the file and began to read every bit of information thoroughly.

X

One Hour Later….

Isaac Staton brushed past the door to the main kitchen carrying a white empty platter. The middle aged coyote worked as a waiter at the Royal Dragon, and tonight was the busiest night he had ever worked. He came to the counter where the orderves were being prepared and place on to platters for the waiters to come pick up and serve to the guests.

The guests had begun to show up a little after eight, arriving by the masses out side the casino in limousines and exotic sports cars that Isaac had only seen in magazines. Isaac couldn't even believe that so many people came to this casino's anniversary party. It must have been the most popular party in Lylat, and that they were all filthy stinking rich and they came to one of the poorest planets in Lylat to party. Oh the irony.

He sat his platter down on the stainless steel counter top. The kitchen was hustle and bustle as some of the best cooks and chefs in Lylat prepared delicacies for the steadily arriving guests. The owner of the casino, whoever he was, must have been very proud of himself to have some many extravagant guests for his party.

Isaac looked around and saw how busy the cooks were in the kitchen. Then he saw none of the other waiters had returned from either getting orders or serving the orderves. Nobody was paying a bit of attention to him. A smile crept along his face. He had been working since before the guest had arrived. He thought he deserved a short break, maybe just long enough to have a smoke.

He slipped in behind the cooks, who were moving about and arranging their orders, very easily. They were so busy with their work they didn't even notice him slacking on his. Isaac was past the kitchen and moving through the back where the food was stored towards the loading dock. He rounded a corner, passing several stacked crates of potatoes. If front of him was a metal door with a red exit sign above it. Isaac pushed on the door and it opened for him without any resistance.

The loading docks were deserted and poorly lit. Only a single light above the door illuminated the dark alley that stretched on towards the streets. The dumpsters were back here as well, and even though he couldn't see them, Isaac could defiantly smell them. He reached into the pocket of his black dress pants and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. He pulled a lighter from his other pocket. He struck a flame and lit up the end of the cigarette. He smiled as he let a long stream of smoke flow from his mouth and his nostrils.

Isaac had two more puff of his cigarette before he noticed that he was not alone in the loading docks or the alley. He heard the sound of a glass bottle sliding across the concrete. He turned immediately in the sounds direction. He could see nothing through the thick blanket of shadows in front of him.

"Hello," he questioned the shadows, "Who's there!"

He began to shake. He brought out his lighter and sparked a flame. He held it in front of his face, searching for any movement or suspicious shapes in the dark. However Isaac was playing right into a trap.

With lightning quick speed, a hooded vulpine with green eyes and gold fur sprung from the shadows behind Isaac and delivered a sharp opened palm strike to the coyote's left temple. Isaac let out a quiet grunt as he hit the loading dock's concrete surface, instantly becoming unconscious on impact.

"Sorry pal," McCloud muttered from beneath his hoodie, "wrong place and wrong time for you."

Fox drop down and began searching the coyote, tossing aside the cigarettes and the lighter. He didn't have much on him but a pad of paper and a pencil. A waiter from the way he was dressed. Fox thought for a second and got an idea. He knelt down and began to undress the coyote.

X

Fox stepped through the back door of the Royal Dragon food storage room, dressed sharply in the dark red dress shirt, black vest and the black pants. The clothes were a bit slack on him but Fox would make due with it. He felt that the coyote was just a tad smaller then he was. 'These clothes were really loose on him then. He sure was skinny,' Fox thought progressing through the storage hall.

The coyote was now resting in his skivvies in one of the dumpster outside. Fox could imagine he would have one hell of a head ache when he woke up. He probably would smell something awful too. Fox had stored his clothes in his ruck sack which was now hidden behind the dumpster he had stashed the waiter. Resting at his waist was his blaster, held in place by his belt and hidden by both the shirt and the vest. He didn't plan to use it, but if things went south he would be ready.

He emerged into the main kitchen area, seeing how hard the cooks were working to satisfy the masses. He smelt a great deal of good food being prepared. The smell was torture on Fox; he hadn't anything since morning, which wasn't much of anything. But he had come here to find Krystal, not sample the Royal Dragon's finest delicacies. But another idea had popped into his head. 'Why can't I have both?' Fox cracker a devious smile and put his plan into action.

He was surprised that none of the cooks had noticed the coyote was gone. Fox thought that maybe the cooks didn't know the rest of the staff well. That was good. He was already worried that some one would recognize him, being a public icon and all. But then he thought of how Krystal had convinced everyone of who she was. He figured he could do the same as well.

He got to the far side of the door when a phone on the wall by the kitchen exit rang. He was going to ignore it and continue through the door, but he was stopped.

"Somebody get that," a cooked cried from his station.

"Can't," a hound replied, station the closest to the phone, "got an order to fill."

"Well somebody get it," the first demanded again.

"Where're the waiters, get one of them to do it," another barked from a large fire grill.

"Hey there's one right there! Hey you," Fox stopped dead in his tracks, "Yeah you at the door! You deaf or somethin'? Answer the damn phone!"

Fox spun around and tried to act as normal as possible, "Right sorry about that, I got it." But inside his head Fox was thinking, 'Rudest cooks I've ever met.'

Fox reached and grabbed the phone, "Hello, Royal Dragon kitchen. You order it we serve it. Can I help you?"

His heart nearly stopped at the voice on the line, "Yes, I'd like to order room service please." It was Krystal.

Fox's heart was pumping in his chest. He hated coincidences. Sometimes he thought of them as God's way of making you laugh or making Him laugh. In this case, Fox was sure God was laughing.

Fox answered back as calmly as possible, "Very well ma'am, what will you be having?" Fox brandished the paper and pencil he swiped off the waiter he had jumped. There was a short pause before Krystal answered back.

"I'm not sure. Surprise me," Fox had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. That was totally Krystal. He imagined if it had been anyone else to pick up the phone, they would have asked her to make a solid decision. Fox guessed she was lucky he picked it up. Or maybe it wasn't luck… Maybe she had recognized the voice of the man on the phone with her. But if that was the case, why hadn't there been any kind of confusion in her voice.

"Ok," Fox pretended to sound confused, "I'll put that order in and we'll have it up to you soon."

"Thank you," Krystal hung up. Right when she did Fox realized that he hadn't asked her which floor she was on. Fox cursed himself from under his breath and the looked at the phone. It had a digital display and the caller ID said "Pres. Suite".

Fox looked up to the cook nearest him. "Hey, which floor is the presidential suite on?"

The hound answered without looking up, "Top floor, why?"

Fox looked down at the paper. He had written, "Surprise me" on the front page. 'All right, I will. And it will be one hell of a surprise Krys,' Fox thought tearing the page out of the pad and crumpling it up and tossing it in a near by trash can. He took the pencil and began writing an order down. He thought about the main dish and then about Krystal. He jotted down one of her favorite meals, one that he himself had prepared on their honeymoon eight years ago. He looked at the paper, smiling with his selection.

He walked sat the paper down next the hound cook and said, "Order up!"

X

Krystal skimmed over the hulk of the file. She had gone over it three times in the last hour and a half, and each time she was despising Ducane more and more. The PDA not only included the information she need, but also information that the Cornerians would definitely want. She had found manifests in the PDA that told her of exactly how much cargo they were hauling: Over six hundred different military grade weapons, four hounded and fifty pounds of illegal narcotics, and one hundred women of various species from across Lylat.

All of this was being transported to a secret location called the "Dragon Marketplace" hidden in the expanse on the Meteo asteroid field. No wonder the Cornerians had ever made much progress in locating Ducane's black market. Meteo was as dangerous now as it was back during the Lylat War. With roaming pirate groups, numerous outlaw syndicates, and not mention the asteroids themselves, Meteo proved to be a good place to hide from the Cornerians, and Ducane had already put it into practice.

One of the most crucial pieces of info that the PDA yielded was the location to both the warehouse where Ducane stashed his merchandise and the coordinates to the market place. With this, the Cornerians would have plenty intel to launch the assault against Ducane. All that remained was to meet with the under cover Cornerian agent she had been told about when she under took the mission.

The question that worried her was when and where was he going to show up? They were running out of time to pull this off, and the clock was still ticking. Krystal sat the PDA down on the glass coffee table and laid back in the futon. She brought the bulk of her long cerulean hair in front of her and began to run her fingers through it. She laid her braided tail down on her lap. She felt so tired, not physically but mentally, which was understandable having a second consciousness in her mind.

'I'm so bored,' Kursed whined in her cage within Krystal's mind, 'I hope things tomorrow are more exciting then today. You've been holding me back.'

"For good reason too," Krystal spoke out loud, rubbing her temples from the massive headache she got from speaking with the Kursed.

'You know you're really irritating,' Kursed spat. 'If you weren't so serious and high strung all the time you'd be a lot more fun to be around. I think you need to get laid. That should liberate all that tension.'

There was a bit of laughter in her voice at the end if that sentence. Krystal often considered Kursed an intelligent manifestation of her violent and lustful sides. She often tempted Krystal with the longing to be with a man, but she always pushed Kursed away. She hated Kursed with every living once of her soul, and Krystal was sure that Kursed felt the same towards her.

A knocking came from the suite door at the other end of the room. Krystal got up, unconsciously grabbing her blaster and shoving it in the holster on her waste. She got up to the black color door and pressed her body against it.

"Yes," Krystal chimed to the man on the other side of the door.

"Room Service," he responded back. The voice was strong, and eerily familiar…

'That voice…' Kursed spoke in Krystal's head, but Krystal had stopped listening.

Krystal's hand went to the lock and twisted it unlocking the door. She opened the door and stepped back so as to conceal her face from the man. He wheeled in a metal serving table with two bowled food containers on top. In the middle of them both was a silver wine bucket with ice filled to the brim. Inside the bucket was and unopened bottle of champagne that looked quite cold in the ice filled bucket. Two tall crystal glasses sat next to the bucket, ready for the champagne.

Krystal took a quick glance at the man, which turned into a shocked stare. At that moment, Krystal and Kursed, two minds inhabiting one body, instantly recognized the man that stood in front of them. And the emotions felt were that of joy, relief, and love, but also of anger, fear, and hate.

Krystal was about to cry out his name when Kursed broke free. Kursed was screaming, 'NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! NOT HIM! He'll ruin everything! I will not let him have her! I will NOT let him have me! He will not have use!'

Krystal, realizing Kursed had escaped the mental cage inside her mind, screamed. Her hands went to her head and she fell to her knees screaming, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

Kursed just kept on, forcing control from Krystal saying, "He left! He betrayed us! He will die for it!"

X

Fox spun around at Krystal's screaming and saw her with her head in hear arms. He rushed over to her, kneeling down and putting his arms on her shoulders.

"Krystal," he yelled to the cerulean vixen. She kept screaming and muttering and shaking before him.

"Krys! It's ok! It's me, Fox," he shouted, "It's Fox, Krystal!"

At that moment the screaming stopped. Krystal stopped shaking and stopped speaking in the strange, muttering voice he had heard. She was still as the grave, her breathing barley audible.

And then she spoke. "I know," the voice said. But it wasn't Krystal.

It was Krystal, but at the same time it wasn't. The Krystal's voice was soft, gentle, and calm. This voice, it had Krystal's accent and it had her general sound, but… it was… darker.

Suddenly, the blue vixen violently shoved Fox backward, sending his head knocking into the side of the serving table he had wheeled up here. The blinding pain in the back of his skull caused Fox to let out a loud yelp. He quickly recovered one hand on the back of his hand, the other instinctively reaching for his concealed blaster, all while he began to rise. But he stopped when he realized that Krystal had beaten him to that point.

She was already on her feet, a hand steadying a blaster at Fox's head. Fox froze and met eyes with Krystal. But those eyes didn't belong to her. In the place of Krystal's glowing turquoise blue eyes, were two cold lavender orbs that looked down on him with a great deal of intimidation and fear coursing through them. Fox's blood turned cold.

"Who are you," Fox asked without even thinking the question.

She smiled and evil grin and her eyes shined in the dim light, "Fear, in its rawest form." Fox defiantly believed that.

Kursed flicked the blaster upward, "Get up, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Fox slowly got to his feet, his hands now leveled with head. He never broke eye contact with Kursed. The color in her eyes seemed to "move" with the iris. It reminded Fox of the way his eye color had change whenever a Krazoa spirit was inside his body during his first mission to Sauria.

"Krysta-," Fox began before Kursed cut him off by pressing the blaster's barrel into his forehead.

"Shut up," she had hissed coldly. "Why are you here?"

Fox was silent.

Kursed's temper flared. She pressed the blaster harder into his skull, "Tell me why you came here!"

Fox smiled, "I came here for my wife," Kursed's eyes widened. Her hand began to quiver. "Now give her back to me."

Fox moved so fast that Kursed had no time to react or counter. Fox's left arm shot down underneath Kursed's shooting hand and came back up swiftly, knocking the blaster out of Kursed's hand. As soon as he had disarmed her, Fox grabbed her wrists and forced her into the door. She screamed and struggled to get free, but Fox had gotten the jump on her and now had her pinned into the door.

"Krystal, I know you can hear me," Fox whispered into Kursed's ears, "and I want you fight this. Fight this demon! Fight it and take control!"

'Fox,' Krystal was crying inside her mind.

"No! Don't listen! He'll leave us for dead! Don't trust him," the demon mind inside Krystal screamed out loud, bearing her teeth to try and scare Fox, but the act of desperation was not working.

"You know that's not true Krystal," Fox said, "I made that mistake once. I'll never make it again, as long I live."

Fox faced the blue furred vixen. "Krystal… I love you." He brought her in and kissed her. She stop struggling, stopped screaming. Inside, Kursed was screaming. It was like some one had set her on fire. She couldn't understand, 'His wife? Wife! You lied to me! You traitor! You told me you left him! You lied!'

'Yes I lied to you. No, I didn't leave him. I love him, I don't love you. You can rot for all I care,' Krystal said standing over Kursed who was on her knees, holding her self in her arms.

Kursed spoke back, sounding as if she had been wounded, 'I'll get back at you. I know you. You'll need me again one day, and when you do, I'll make you regret this!'

Krystal shut Kursed away in her cage, back in the dark recesses of her mind. She took control of her mind and her body. And she was never so happy to do so. Fox still had her in the deep, passionate kiss, and when she came back. She kissed back.

Krystal wrapped herself around his body, her legs going around his waist and her arms tightening around the back of his neck and shoulders.

The kissing pair broke off briefly so they could both catch their breathe, Krystal muttered, "You came for me. You came." Her words began to choke up as Krystal began to cry. She embraced him, burying her face in his neck. Fox kissed her on her cheek and then down her neck.

"You sound surprised," Fox said between the kisses.

Krystal let out a crying laugh. She looked at him, eyes full of tears. It was like a dream. She had been waiting for her nightmare end since the first few months that she had taken the job. And now she felt that nothing could hinder her. She finally felt herself again. And now she had the man she loved again. She kissed him again.

The food Fox brought up would get cold. They completely forgot about it. But they didn't forget about the champagne. That night, they forgot about their worries, the mission, and their enemies. All that concerned them was each other. That night, they laid down together as husband and wife for the first in six months.