Chapter 7: Drawbar


"Let's play a game," Krystal began.

The Cerinian vixen heaved a military green chest of bullets onto the coffee table at the center of the Great Fox's recreation room.

Eying the steel container from a safe distance, Phoenix stammered, "Th-that doesn't look like my type of game."

"What? You've never played Russian-roulette?" Krystal asked, producing an antique revolver even older than her own outdated pistols. "Not even with a BB gun?"

"It's an old tradition we have," Falco said, plopping down on the couch next to Krystal. "Kinda like Thanksgiving football, only more often."

Slipping a red-and-gold-colored bullet into the revolver, Krystal spun the cylinder and snapped it back in place with a quick motion. Offering the gun handle-first to Phoenix, she asked teasingly, "Wanna play?"

"Uh, n-no thanks," he answered.

Krystal withdrew the gun and tossed it to Falco, who suggested, "Maybe you should have told him the bullets are just blanks. And they aren't your average blanks, either. Those would still do some real damage from point blank range. These, on the other hand, just make a bang and don't go anywhere."

"You may never have played it yourself," Krystal continued, "But you still know how it's done, right? Six rounds, one bullet, give it a little spin, then take turns aiming at your head and pulling the trigger. Loser gets a little scare, and that's all. Falco here's a real screamer; screams like a little girl most of the time."

"At least I have all the luck," Falco bragged, palming the revolver.

"Are you joking?" Krystal asked, scoffing. "You shot yourself the last four times we played, and you even tried to cheat the last time! The only luck you have is bad luck."

"Yeah, well, maybe karma's on my side now."

"Are you sure those are all blanks?" Phoenix asked, still worried.

Falco raised the gun to his temple, pulling the hammer back. "Of course I am! Watch."

A bright flash erupted from the barrel and a loud bang resounded through the recreation room like a peal of thunder. Falco's head snapped back before his body fell to the floor, dropping the revolver in the process. Krystal grabbed her stomach as she burst out laughing and fell backwards over the sofa. Phoenix had jumped to his feet at the sound of the blank and placed his hands over his chest, attempting to calm his increased heart rate. As Krystal lay shaking with laughter on the floor, Phoenix stared at Falco's body under the coffee table, which showed no signs of movement.

"Uh... is he okay?" Phoenix ventured, voice quivering in anxiety.

When Krystal managed to rope in her laughter, she answered, "He's just screwing with you. I just can't get over the fact that it worked out so perfectly! He must have known I set the bullet to the first round. That was priceless!"

"He's still not moving..."

Krystal stood up and waved him off. "Ah, he's just waiting for you to check his body so he can jump up and freak you out." The vixen climbed over the sofa and knelt down beside Falco. "But he's not going to get you this time. Come on you lazy feather-brain, get up."

She rolled over the falcon's body, revealing a dark red hole in the side of his temple and a puddle of blood pooling on the carpeted floor.

"Holy shit," Krystal whispered. She hurriedly jumped up, knocking over the coffee table and ammo case in the process, then stumbled over herself to get away from Falco's limp body. The glass top of the table crashed onto the floor, and the ammo case opened scattered bullets everywhere.

"Did he actually shoot himself?" Phoenix asked, panicking.

"I don't get it," Krystal muttered in a lowered voice. "It was the right chest, the caps were colored red and everything, it's just not possible, unless – "

At that moment, Slippy rounded the corner and entered the room. "Hey guys. Did Falco lose again?"

The amphibian first looked at Phoenix, who didn't move a muscle, then at Krystal, who pointed a shaky finger at Falco's body.

Confused, the mechanic stepped over to the overturned coffee table and had a look. When the realization hit him, he too stumbled back. "No way, it can't be... no-no-no-no-no, this can't happen! How did this happen?! You remembered to use blanks... right?"

"I did," Krystal whimpered. Then, she raised her voice and screamed, "I SWEAR I DID – I CHECKED AND EVERYTHING! THERE'S NO REASON HE SHOULD BE DEAD NOW! TELL ME WHY, WHY IS HE DEAD!?"

Slippy took off his cap and wiped his shiny head. "Alright, look, there's got to be a reason for this, there must be some explanation, just calm down, okay?"

But Krystal didn't calm down. She pointed an accusing finger at Slippy. "You... you were the last one to handle the blanks, weren't you?"

"Hmm? Well... I guess, but what does that have to do with – "

"You were the one who collected the new shipment, painted them, and placed them in the chest, right?"

As Krystal crawled over to Falco's side and grabbed the discharged revolver next to him, Slippy spluttered, "Yeah, so? That doesn't mean I messed it up, right? We haven't touched the chest for a couple months at least! I didn't mess anything up! Our sellers probably just slipped us a live one by accident! It happens, you know?"

But Krystal wasn't listening; her psychotic mode had been activated.

Picking one of the bullets from the floor, she loaded the revolver and pointed it at Slippy, paw trembling. "I don't know Slippy. Was it really only one? Do you want to put it to the test?"

Slippy raised his hands and backed away. "Hey, whoa there! Take it easy! I'm pretty sure it was only one defect, but there could be more! I don't want to take that chance, I never play Russian roulette! I – "

"WHY DID YOU KILL FALCO!" the mad bounty huntress screamed before pulling the trigger.

A second shot rang out in the Great Fox's recreation room, and Slippy staggered backwards, clutching his belly. As blood poured from his wound, the frog collapsed to the ground with a thud, lifeless.

Krystal was the next to hit the ground, clutching the warm revolver in her shaking paws and struggling to hold back tears. She lay there for several minutes, attempting to make sense of what had just happened. It was Slippy's fault... wasn't it? He's the one who always handles the blanks and ammo, so it must have been his mistake. He was the one who killed Falco, not me, not me, he brought his own death on himself, not me, 'course it wasn't me, he deserved it, he killed himself.

Wiping her moist eyes and sniffing, Krystal rose to her knees and turned to face Phoenix. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to see this, Phoenix, everything was going so well. I... I had hoped you would – "

But Phoenix was gone.

Looking around the room frantically, Krystal asked, "Phoenix? Where are you? Phoenix!"

As if in answer, all the lights in the recreation room went out, as well as those in the hall leading into it, and those in the rest of the Great Fox, for all she could tell. The room fell into complete darkness, leaving Krystal alone with the sound of her ragged breaths and beating heart. Then, after a few tense seconds, the emergency lights came on, flashing red strobes across the steal walls.

"PHOENIX, WHERE ARE YOU!?" Krystal shouted, beginning to lose her mind.

Suddenly, a voice echoed throughout the room that came from the internal comm system. "Phoenix... was never here," it claimed.

Krystal slowly stood up. Something was wrong; it had sounded like Phoenix's voice, but it was different – not that it was unknown to her. In fact, it was more familiar than Phoenix's voice, though she hadn't heard it in several years.

The bounty-huntress went for the nearest comm speaker, nearly slipping on a pile of loose ammo shells on the way. Pressing the talk button, she demanded, "Phoenix, is that you? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Are you deaf? I just said Phoenix doesn't exist – he never did. Your imaginary friend isn't who you think he is."

The speaker had to be nearby; he must have heard her calling to have been able to answer her, as the comms weren't activated yet.

Pushing herself off the wall, Krystal stumbled to the door of the recreation room and poked her head through it, checking both up and down the hallway just outside. She was forced to wait for the emergency lights to cycle through a couple times before she was sure no one was there. At the moment, she had no clue who the newcomer was. If she understood him correctly, he was actually Phoenix, or at least had pretended to be. Whoever he was, she didn't trust him. Falco was dead, Slippy, too; she had no more attachment to the ship, no one else to look out for but herself. While her curiosity itched to reveal the identity of the unseen animal, and her burning anger yearned to avenge her dead friends, Krystal's instincts got the better of her... and her instincts said run.

Drawing one of her Beretta pistols, she held the gun beside her head and kept her left hand against the wall to steady her movement in the darkened hallway. Though her emerald eyes normally excelled at piercing the shadow, the constant flashing of red warning lights did not allow her pupils to adjust.

As she crept through the hallways of the Great Fox as fast as she dared, Krystal began to realize the weight of her present situation. Both of her only friends in the System were dead, dead by her own hand. And Phoenix, the young fox she had begun to take in as a friend, was not who she thought he was. He had betrayed her, stabbed her in the back, the way it always seemed to go. The little bastard – whoever he was – had probably planned the whole thing. The deaths of Falco, Slippy, and now... her own. To make matters worse, Krystal was trapped in a metal can fifty million kilometers from the nearest planet or station, completely alone except for an unknown assailant who was out to kill her.

Krystal was never this scared in her life.

Right now her only course of action was to make for the hangar and get off the ship. To do that, she would have to buy a little time or at least keep her stalker entertained. When she came across the next comm node en route to the hangar, she activated it. Though she tried to hide it, she was strained for breath and far from a little worried.

"Hey, I d-don't know what your deal is, but what have you done with Phoenix?"

The voice wasted no time in answering. "Phoenix was merely a persona of mine. I used him as a sheepskin to sneak into the flock, a disguise to win your trust and get into your ship."

"Then who are you really? Another bounty hunter? An assassin? Who's paying you, and who wants us dead?"

"It's simple, really. I want you dead. No one sent me. No one's paying me. It's all my own initiative."

"But who are you? Why are you after us?"

"Isn't that the question..."

Krystal jumped and spun around. The voice was now immediately behind her, coming from a figure cloaked in shadow at the end of the hallway. The warning lights flashed, revealing a pair of deadly eyes and a standard blaster all aimed directly at her. For a second, his eyes reflected the bright red lights, sending a chill down Krystal's spine.

Once again acting on instinct, the Cerinian knelt down and fired her gun at the stalker, but the warning lights flashed off, and he disappeared.

Rising to her feet, mouth hanging open in a horrified expression, Krystal stumbled backwards until she found the wall again, then broke out into a mad sprint in the opposite direction.

After a few exhilarating seconds, she ran face first into the metal hangar door. Stomach churning, pulse racing, and panting wildly, Krystal fumbled with the hatch, but it refused to turn. Though she threw all of her weight against the lock and pushed her muscles to the snapping point, it wouldn't budge.

Open, dammit, she cursed inwardly.

It was too late; she heard the footsteps of the stalker coming around the corner, and her hands froze against the door winch, gripped with fear.

As she turned her head to face him, Krystal heard the sound of the blaster cock.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment, how many humiliations I put myself through to get to this point... once again."

Phoenix – or what looked like Phoenix – rounded the corner and leveled his gun at her, grinning teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Wh-who are you?" Krystal stammered, pointing her own shaking gun at him.

"Isn't it obvious?" he snickered. "You three pretend to have forgotten about me, yet that memory is why you chose Phoenix in the first place... isn't it?"

Krystal shook her head violently, eyes widening. "No... no, it isn't true! You're supposed to be... you can't be..."

"Oh, I assure you, Fox McCloud isn't that easy to kill, though you were so quick to abandon me, just like Falco and Slippy. Yes, I created Phoenix to befriend you and show you what it feels like to be betrayed, to make your dreams come true, and then wake you up to a nightmare. That's why I saved you for last, Krystal; so you could truly experience the nightmare!"

Krystal couldn't take it anymore. She screamed, but was cut off immediately by the peel of a blaster shot, and what little light remained in her world faded away.


A/N: Published April 1st.