As Krystal paid the man, she studied Fox's face as he admired the gun. She wanted to say something wise about a warrior's spirit, but she kept quiet to give Fox his well deserved moment alone with his pistol. This would be his first real gun, after all. Of all the countless others he'd fired, he'd never actually had the experience of knowing one personally. It was more of a professional relationship between man and gun, as opposed to an affair of love.

But this luxury wouldn't come cheaply. Krystal had known this from the moment she'd decided to introduce Fox to the wonderful world of firing arms, just as Kursed had decided to introduce Krystal. Krystal counted out bills on the as the old man looked greedily down at them. As soon as she laid down the last bill, he snatched up the money like a glutton snatches up a side dish.

Krystal motioned to him and whispered, "Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any way for the two of us to get off-planet discreetly, would you?"

He leaned over the counter and rasped, "Any particular destination?"

"Lylat."

The old dog thought for a moment, looking down at Krystal's hands. "Actually, I have a man who brings me deliveries every few weeks. I think he comes in from Lylat, but I'm not sure. Either way, he's trustworthy enough to take you and your friend away quietly."

Krystal replied, "When does he come into Kew next?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Perfect. Send him a message that he'll have us as cargo to wherever he's headed. You know what he'll charge?"

"No idea; you'll have to ask him personally. Bring a lot." As Krystal started to turn away, he tugged her sleeve. "Care to share what could possibly scare Kursed off this planet?"

Krystal looked sideways at Fox, knowing exactly what she was afraid of. But she answered sharply, "No."

Fox must've heard her say it, because he came forward to ask, "How do we know this man won't sell out once we're aboard?" Krystal went red (which clearly showed now that her fur was no longer so dark) as she felt the shame of her underestimation of Fox—specifically his hearing ability.

The old man looked offended, as if the fact that he trusted the man was to be taken at face value. "He's one of my best suppliers! Half the money that ends up in my account is there thanks to him. Just a few months ago he brought me Sasha," he said, indicating the gargantuan weapon he'd fired earlier. "Take it from me, after Kursed here has bought so much of my merchandise over the past few years, I would never put you on a ship piloted by anyone whose alignment I was unsure of in the least!"

Fox seemed convinced. Krystal said, "As long as we get off unharmed."

The man shrugged and backed away. "I'm just doing my job." Pointing at Krystal, he said, "Now go do yours."

"Yes, sir," she answered with pride, and started towards the door.

Fox turned around just before they left and asked the man, "Were you ever in the Fichinan army?"

He smiled and answered, "In my younger days. But I deserted just before the Venomian war."

Krystal looked at Fox, seeing more in him than she ever had. He returned the smile and said, "Shall we go?"

"You first. Something tells me you'll want to drive this time."

And so Fox led the way out from the pawnshop, gladly taking the wheel with Krystal safely out of reach of any steering wheels.

"Where to now, my love?"

"Oh, hush," she said reproachfully, although she grinned at being addressed as such." We're going uptown to buy you some new clothes."

"What's wrong with what I've got on?"

"Aside from the red bandana, which we're keeping, by the way, your clothes are atrocious. You've clearly been living away from any females for the past half a decade."

Fox turned to face the dashboard, looking lightheartedly defeated. He admitted, "Can't argue there."

Krystal said, "Then what are you waiting for? Throw it into gear and I'll give you directions."

Fox leaped into action, flipping switches, firing up drive systems, and gripping the wheel. "Aye aye, captain."