X
Mission No. 39
Cerinia
Ruined City
.
X
The doors to the transport shuttle opened, allowing a strong gust of wind to sweep inside. Bill teetered on the edge of the troop bay, hanging on to the overhead railing for support. Dr. Makepeace swayed next to him, similarly grasping the bar above her. The wind ripped through her hair and caused her lab coat to billow out.
Below the transport shuttle the dusty white landscape flew past in a blur. Soon the snow-like sand gave way to darker-colored soil and shale. Warehouses began to pass underneath; the outskirts of a city. Soon the pilot flew them over a residential area and in between towering office buildings, but there were no signs of life to be found in the interwoven streets.
Instead it looked like the city had endured a war.
Most of the destruction they saw couldn't be attributed to conventional weaponry. There was no shrapnel from bombs, no bullet holes, and no laser scouring. Nor did they spot any sign of military vehicles amongst the rubble. Yet something had destroyed the city from the inside out, and Bill and the crew of the Justice knew what did it.
Only a few hours ago Yaru de Pon himself had called to report they'd found Andross's shuttle – the one he had escaped in after Bolse Y's meltdown. A trail of spaceport records lead them through shipyards, junk dealers, and scrap heaps, but eventually they dug up the shuttle itself and managed to retrieve a corrupted flight log from its data recorder. The records revealed where Andross had landed on Cerinia eight years ago – and those coordinates had lead them here, to this city. Now, with a team of technicians and trusty soldiers to guard them, Bill was descending to the surface to hunt for more clues.
The captain craned his neck to look back up at the flagship, which trailed not too far behind the shuttle. They'd outfitted the underside of the Justice with chameleon-like camouflage, making the sleek needle almost indistinguishable from the overhead sky. Hopefully, if there were any ground-based Cerinians 19 didn't pick up, they wouldn't notice the invading cruiser. Still, Bill felt uneasy as they flew through the city. His perceptive eyes darted back and forth between the buildings, imagining they saw shadows moving in the broken windows or dark alleys.
The Justice had spent nearly a month combing Cerinia's surface and had seen many similar ruins. The current city was no surprise – to everyone, that is, except Makepeace.
As they flew through the buildings the scientist narrowed her eyes and peered down at them. Slowly her expression softened and her eyebrows raised.
"Something wrong, Doctor?" Bill asked.
"I recognize this place," she murmured. "I didn't at first due to all the destruction, but many of these landmarks look familiar. It makes perfect sense why Andross came here. I should have thought of this on my own…"
"What do you mean? Why this city in particular?" Bill asked.
Before Makepeace could respond one of the surveillance officers raised their voice from behind him. "Captain, we've detected a metal object bearing 077. It matches the readout of an Arwing fighter craft."
Bill swallowed, an icy feeling in his gut. He should have felt excited to get a lead on Fox's whereabouts, but now, the closer they came to actually finding him…
"Instruct the pilot to take us there at once. Stay in contact with 19 and have her continue sensing for Cerinians. If she hears one, notify us immediately." Bill wanted to avoid repeating their run in with the Ariki and Hime, though neither he nor Makepeace thought it a good idea for 19 to take more doses of KLA so soon after her recent episode. He hated leaving her behind on the ship right now, given what had happened the last time he went down to the surface.
He turned back to Makepeace, expecting an answer to his previous question about the city, but she spoke before he could prod again. "I'll tell you once we make landfall, Captain."
X
Soon they emerged from the other side of the city, where several rolling hills strewn with rubble took up the outskirts. At the top of one of the closer hills sat an angular, blue-and-white fighter craft; unmistakable for anything besides Space Dynamic's Arwing model.
So Makepeace's hunch was right, Bill thought to himself. It seemed Fox had landed close to where Andross did eight years ago. While the location was only a few dozen miles away, it still lay in the general vicinity where 19 had heard 28's voice – before Ariki hijacked the Justice for his own purposes and turned them off course.
The transport landed on the hill adjacent to the abandoned ship, and the crew disembarked. Bill jumped out first and gave Makepeace a hand down, though it wasn't out of any fondness of her – just his general politeness. Then they climbed up the next hill to gather around Fox's Arwing. The technicians quickly set to work blowtorching their way into the cockpit while the soldiers began patrolling the perimeter of the hill. Bill and Makepeace simply looked on.
The vixen bent down to straighten out her pencil skirt, wiping the dust and rubble from the hem. "Well, finally we have concrete results."
Bill crossed his arms. "We've already impounded the Great Fox, and this Arwing clearly hasn't flown in weeks. That means Fox must be traveling on foot. He can't have covered much ground that way, especially if he was running with someone else in tow."
"We also know they're within a hundred mile radius of here; 19 heard the Cerinian nearby. We're close to recovering her now – I can almost feel it." Then, while still brushing her skirt, Makepeace noticed something in the dirt. She stooped to pick it up. "Captain…what exactly do you hope to find in the cockpit?"
Bill craned his neck to see what she had found. "Any number of clues. Ideally we can hack into the ship's control system and track the location of Fox's wrist unit."
Makepeace straightened back up with something in her hands. "You mean this?"
She held out the smashed fragments of Fox's wrist comm, and Bill's hope deflated. One of their analysts took the broken device from Makepeace and whisked it away for examination. The captain meanwhile returned to surveying the crew's work.
"There's still a chance we might find something else."
The vixen smiled smugly, folding her arms over her tablet. "You underestimate McCloud's intelligence once again."
Bill scowled. "We have to check anything he leaves behind on the off-chance he might've been clumsy."
Makepeace puffed out her cheeks. "This isn't even his Arwing – it's Lombardi's. They made the switch back at the gate."
The bulldog said nothing. She was right. But he still held out hope they might find something in the cockpit.
Time began to drag on as the technicians cut into the Arwing. For several minutes the two stood in silence, watching them work, but Bill's mind began to wander. He kept worrying about 19, and how she was doing on the ship without him. He couldn't shake the image of her lying on that infirmary cot while the ship's doctors tended to her many wounds. While self-inflicted, Bill couldn't help but place the burden of the blame on himself. He wished he could be with her while she recovered; besides her handler, he was the only other person on the ship she talked to. Every second he spent away from her now made him feel more and more anxious.
Makepeace seemed to notice he'd zoned out, eyes no longer focusing on the Arwing. "Something troubling you, Captain?"
He shook his head; the doctor was the last person he'd want to confide in.
"In that case…" Makepeace pursed her lips for a moment, considering. "I promised to explain Andross's connection to this city. Seeing as how we're of no use here, I think we should find a place to talk – in private." With that she spun on her heel and began walking back to the shuttle.
Bill followed after her to the transport, anxious of what she had to reveal. When they arrived Makepeace sat down on the ledge of the cargo bay, legs hanging over the side while she waited for him. The canid jumped up beside her, but sensing it might turn into a long conversation he ducked further inside, searching till he found a compact fridge. Momentarily he returned with two cans of Whimsy soda and sat down next to the scientist. He set one of the cans beside her while cracking open his own and taking a swig. Meanwhile the vixen frowned at her watermelon-flavored beverage, using her tablet's stylus to discretely scoot it away.
"Now…why is this place so significant?" Bill asked after swallowing.
Makepeace looked out of the shuttle, scanning the horizon and ruined cityscape. "This city was ground zero for the Anomie – the psychic apocalypse that destroyed Cerinian civilization. Andross flooded a nearby water plant with experimental chemicals meant to accelerate the psychic evolution of the Cerinian race. But more important than that, it was home to the lab dedicated to researching extrasensory perception. Dr. Bowman and Dr. Reinard both worked here years ago, making extensive trips from Lylat to Cerinia. It's no understatement to say their work was the backbone of the entire project; I studied their documentation extensively post their…exit from the team."
"Dr. Reinard…you mean Mrs. McCloud? Then Fox's coming here wasn't an accident?"
"No, I don't think it was. McCloud didn't kidnap Subject 28 because she was just another pretty vixen in distress; it was about more than trying to be a hero in this situation. To him, 28 is a connection to Andross, and the scientist in turn is a connection to his mother."
"But Mrs. McCloud – er, Dr. Reinard, died years ago – before I ever met Fox. What does he hope to gain by following Andross here?"
"I think he's just looking for answers. It's possible that, no matter how long it's been since his mother's death, Fox still hasn't moved on. Maybe he just wants closure."
Bill scowled. "Then he should have asked General Pepper or someone else in charge about the matter." He took another swig from his soda.
"And you think they would have told him?" Makepeace asked. "Fox isn't like you, Captain. He doesn't have your unwavering loyalty, and he doesn't obey without question. He does what he wants, and if Pepper revealed the true extent of the Cerinia project, Fox would have been horrified. He wouldn't have understood. In fact, he may have gone so far as to blame Corneria for his mother's death."
Here she stopped, as if waiting for Bill to say something. But he kept silent. While not agreeing with Fox's thinking, he didn't express his disagreement, either. Then he began to worry; had she expected him to?
When the silence grew uncomfortable Makepeace continued. "We still don't know Andross's motive for returning here. After the meltdown of their society, Cerinia was declared a Forbidden planet – a classification on par with Venom. Corneria deemed her too dangerous to visit, let alone return to the lab and try to salvage the research. Not that it was necessary to in the first place; the top scientists like Andross and Dr. Reinard were back in Lylat when it happened, and they were able to put the project back on track without recovering any of their lost data. Ultimately we still don't know what Andross was after."
Bill raised an eyebrow. "Could he have been trying to capture other Cerinians? To continue his research in secret?"
Makepeace tipped her head side-to-side, considering. "It's possible, though when he was apprehended on his return to Lylat he wasn't smuggling any. His lackeys from the project kidnapped most of the remaining subjects and fled Corneria after Bolse Y's meltdown, so it would be unlike Andross to risk his own life for a few more test subjects when he already had enough. No, it had to be something more than that. His return to Lylat empty-handed suggests he failed to find whatever he was after…or his intention wasn't to bring something back at all, but to deposit something here."
"Such as…?"
The doctor hesitated, eyes flicking sideways to Bill. "I have my own theories, but…you are not to worry yourself with them. Suffice it to say, Fox has reason to track Andross's activities here. If we continue to trace the madman's path, we may overtake Fox – and with him, Cerinian 28. But for the moment, 19 must listen for her thoughts so we may pin down her exact location once and for all. At least we know for certain she's somewhere nearby."
Bill continued nursing his soda as he thought. His brow furrowed. "Doctor, there's something I'm worried about. When 19 heard the other Cerinian, she was in distress, correct?"
Makepeace dipped her head. "True."
"What if she was captured by other Cerinians? People like Ariki and his mate. She and Fox may be in a populated area when we find them, at which point we'd have to do battle with not one, but many self-proclaimed gods at once. I'm worried we can't hold our own against them."
"If you paid attention to Ariki's insane ramblings, you would have picked up on certain things. Cerinian society crumbled when their race developed psychic powers. The weak died, while the strong battled for dominance. With a species like that, it's not possible for large societies to function. The ones at the top are too scared to trust one another – not when stabbing your partner in the back is as easy as a fleeting thought. If someone is holding 28 against her will, it's probably only a few of these psychopaths at most."
"And if it is more? If they've somehow established a working hierarchy?"
"Then you still need not worry. I assure you, we have the proper contingencies. When we make contact with their group we will simply parley. They may be persuaded to hand #28 over amicably. And if not…we may force their hand."
"We have the ability to do that?"
"As I said, we have more tools at our disposal than you may realize."
"And we didn't use them against Ariki?"
Makepeace rolled her eyes. "What a waste that would have been; using our trump card on that pathetic flea bag. No, if we used the ace up our sleeve against Ariki, the Justice wouldn't be left standing."
Bill's mind raced. "You have…some sort of bomb prepared?"
The doctor chuckled. "In a manner of speaking. But you need not know of our secret weapon yet."
"Then what of 28? There's a chance we may have to subdue her to bring her aboard. Killing Ariki was hard enough. How could we even go about neutralizing her?"
"Indeed, Subject 28 is powerful. In fact, her energy reserves are practically immeasurable. Out of all the Cerinians, Andross made the most progress with her. But even then, she hasn't unlocked her full potential yet. If she didn't immediately kill Fox upon his meeting her, there's a chance she may be reasonable – or at least, gullible."
He gulped. "She…could have killed Fox when she met him?"
"Oh, effortlessly, if she felt inclined to. You saw how much carnage 19 wrecked on her own, did you not?"
Bill nodded. He remembered the bloodied hallways in the Venomian labs and the eviscerated corpses of those unfortunate enough to cross her path. He had a hard enough time believing someone as reserved and gentle as 19 could do that – but did Fox know 28 could do the same?
"Andross's Cerinians are…unstable, to say the least," Makepeace explained. "The fastest way to unlock their powers was to place them in situations where they were forced to use them. He put these girls through endless psychological and physical trauma, which, as much as I hate to admit, was indeed the most efficient way to bring out their powers. But that left each of them emotionally scarred and broken. Our main concern is something triggering that past trauma in 28, at which point…"
"…She'd release her powers?"
Makepeace nodded. "It would be a repetition of 19's containment breach in the labs. Only with someone much more powerful."
Bill looked down at his empty soda can. "I take it her cry of distress isn't a good sign, then?"
The vixen shook her head. "No, it's not. We may be too late…" She trailed off for a moment before a grin crept back onto her face. "Then again, we may have arrived at the perfect time…"
X
That night on Cerinia – far from Fox's abandoned Arwing, the Justice, and the ruined city – the forest of Altaira Valley lay in a calm quiet. Fox and Krystal had snuck away for a midnight rendezvous: the vixen explaining to the Kaumatua she wanted privacy for meditation in nature; the todd slipping out while his elderly host snored. Under the cloak of night they met by the waterfall, bedding on the grassy hill adjacent to it.
It was dark out; the couple's only lights were the alien stars shining down from overhead, and the ghostly amethyst fungi that glowed by the water's edge. Krystal spread her sleeping mat out on the bank while Fox shared his pillows and blankets with her. They slipped between the covers and lay side-by-side, staring up between the branches at the twinkling stars.
At first they simply made small talk. They recounted their activities from earlier that day and discussed their plans for the next. Then, after some time had passed, Krystal rolled over to stare at Fox.
"Thank you," she said, "for being here with me. It's already put me at ease. I feel like I can face whatever the night might bring."
Fox grinned and crossed his arms under his head, looking back up at the stars. The vixen's words filled him with pride – to the point where he felt like he could conquer the whole universe laid about above him in the night sky.
Krystal shifted and sighed, the whimsical tone in her voice fading to something more serious. "Sometimes, Fox, I feel…guilty. It's not fair that I should be here with you, far away from that nightmarish planet with its horrid tunnels, when all my sisters are still trapped there. I worry about them, too. I never knew them well, or even talked to them much, but…I think we felt a kinship through all that we endured together. I wish there was something we could do for them; maybe even free them, if possible."
Fox's brow furrowed. Admittedly he hadn't given the other Cerinians back in Lylat much thought. He assumed most of them were dead anyway, but only now realized he didn't know that for sure. It certainly made his skin crawl: the fact that Corneria hadn't outright dissolved Andross's Cerinia program as soon as they had the chance. To think that other girls like Krystal could still be trapped down there, floating suspended in tanks for endless sleep, never knowing the beauty and freedom of the outside world while complete strangers debated their ultimate fate…
Krystal was right. It did make him feel guilty. If he had things his way, he'd fly right back to Corneria and use Star Fox's leverage to get the military to free every last one of the Cerinians. And if they wouldn't listen, he'd free them by force. After all, he was the leader of Star Fox, the system's most renowned team of mercenaries.
But at the same time, he felt averse to the idea. He'd already saved the system once, putting his life on the line and single-handedly turning the course of the entire war. He'd even slain Lylat's worst enemy himself – or what was left of him. It wasn't fair, having to risk everything to save people he didn't even know yet again. Not when he'd finally found someone to share his life with. He had a home now: a place to rest. When he'd first joined the war he had already lost both his parents. He had nothing left to lose and everything to gain, though he wished for none of it. But now he actually had something to lose.
He glared up past the treetops, identifying Lylat's bright star far above him. It stood out like a shining gem, given it was the most luminous and closest of all the stars, and the only one he didn't recognize. He knew killing Andross and winning the war hadn't solved everything, but from here all the system's problems looked so small and insignificant; so removed from himself. Let someone else save the other Cerinians. Let them sort everything out. He'd done his part. Being here on Cerinia for even just one person was enough to satisfy him.
"Could we, Fox?" Krystal asked when he didn't answer. "Could we save them?"
Fox sighed, thoughts coming back down to earth, as it were. "Krystal…I had a hard-enough time even saving you. When I fought in the war, I had allies at my back. If I tried to save the others, I'd have to go against those same people I served before – this time alone. It would be a hopeless cause. Besides, we're locked here on Cerinia now. Unless they open the gate from Lylat's end, and we happen to be there at the right time, we'd never be able to get back. And if we did, as soon as we crossed over there'd be several fleets waiting to pick us up. I can't do anything against odds like that."
"Oh," she said, countenance deflating. "I…understand."
After a time they returned to making small talk. But as the night went on their conversation dwindled out, the time lengthening between their words. With sleep threatening to take them, they turned inwards and drew close, drifting away in a shared embrace. The past few nights Krystal had dreaded succumbing to sleep, knowing full-well the nightmares and memories awaiting her there. But now, lying in Fox's strong arms, she found it surprisingly easy to rest.
While the two vulpines slumbered, the noises of the forest grew to fill the silence left by their voices. Their relaxed breaths competed with a lullaby of insects calling, the wind rustling the overhead blossoms, and the nearby waterfall singing away.
In her sleep, a contented smile had fallen over Krystal's face. But for a second, it twitched. Unconsciously, she changed position, rolling over slightly and shifting in the makeshift bed.
A few miles away from the forest, just outside the valley, a Cerinian named Korā stood awake on guard duty. Before her flowed the shallow river which separated the dunes from the mountains surrounding Altaira Valley. Up a short dirt path behind her lay the canyon entrance to the village; the place she now guarded was one of two main passes between the mountains, with the other being to the North East and rarely used.
Restlessly she paced behind the trees lining the river bank – a thin woods which acted like a skirt hem to the side of the mountains. She peered warily between the black tree trunks at the river, watching for any sign of activity. A thick mist lay over the water, obscuring the far shore as usual. But if anyone approached she would most likely sense them coming, or at least hear their sloshing through the water. Still, she hated not being able to see anything at all. Even knowing she could hear the thoughts of any who approached wasn't enough to abate the young kaitaki's fear of the darkness.
It was a quiet night like most others, especially without the perpetual rain and recent storms that usually plagued the valley – by necessity, of course. But for some reason she still felt…antsy.
A strange echo reached Korā's mind, and she flinched. Focusing on the source of the thoughts, she identified the newcomer as Sister Āni. She had only to wait a moment before the Cerinian's quiet footsteps approached, almost imperceptibly disturbing the carpet of dried leaves and petals on the river bank. The noise was difficult to make out above the rushing sound of the river. Soon Āni appeared from behind a tree like a phantom, her cloak swishing around her legs to the point where it looked like she had glided there. Korā's attention was drawn to her elder's hooded cowl and face covering, which left only her eyes visible, sparkling attentively in the starlight.
"Sister Āni," she greeted in Cerinian, voice little more than a whisper. She dipped her head out of respect.
"Sister Korā," her elder returned, nodding slightly as well. "How goes your watch?"
"Nothing to report. I haven't heard anything from the far shore. But…"
She trailed off, and Āni's eyes narrowed. "I feel you are anxious about something. Why?"
Korā sighed, trying to relax. "I can't really describe it, but something just feels…off. I can't sense anything in particular, yet I have this strange feeling. A feeling like something's out there."
The lines around Āni's eyes creased, and Korā knew she probably wore a knowing smile under her mask. "Everything is alright. There's nothing to be afraid of. You just feel the same restlessness and paranoia every Kaitaki does on their first night of guard duty. The more nights you spend on watch, the less you fear the darkness and the mist, and the more bored you'll become." Āni sighed and leaned against a tree, looking out over the river. "Enjoy the excitement while you still can. Soon enough, the uneventfulness will make you feel the true tedium of watch duty. It's rare for us to have unwelcome visitors, but you'll come to wish for their presence, just for something to break the monotony." She pointed a finger at Korā. "But even then, you must never let your guard down. The safety of the valley rests on your shoulders – and the other kaitaki at their posts."
Korā bowed again. "Thank you, sister. Your words are reassuring, though I still can't shake this feeling."
Āni seemed to shiver. "Ugh, now you have me feeling it too. Unless…" She frowned and peered into the mist.
"What is it?" Korā asked. It was strange seeing her teacher, who was normally so calm and collected, act this off-put.
"Wait…" The Cerinian began speaking to her mind directly. "I do feel something. There may be a presence out in the desert, across the water. Listen…"
Korā's heart began to pound. She turned to look out over the river, extending the fingers of her mind as well.
While everything else in the sheltered glade seemed peaceful, Krystal felt at anything but rest. She frowned in her sleep. Her ear twitched, followed by sudden, almost imperceptible spasms in her limbs and muscles. After a few seconds her breaths quickened, and her chest began to rise and fall faster.
Something made a sound in the river, and Korā nearly jumped out of her pelt. Instantly she began scanning the surface of the water with her eyes, looking for its source.
"Did you hear that?!" she whispered.
Āni quit trying to sense the strange presence and simply listened. Soon, over the sound of the rushing water, they began to hear a series of sloshes, each coming one after the other.
She nodded. "Yes, I hear it. There's something in the river."
Immediately after her confirmation, Korā ducked behind a tree, but still poked her head out to peer at the water. Āni, however, didn't hide – but she at least pushed off the trunk and stood on the alert.
"What is it?!" Korā demanded.
Āni frowned. "It's probably nothing," she assured her. "Just a large fish of some kind, or even a snake. I'd wager it got stuck on the shoals and is struggling to swim back to deeper water. The river is quite shallow here at the ford."
Her elder's words did nothing to reassure her this time, for her tone sounded uncertain, and she could feel the doubt emanating from her mind like a peculiar stench. Even worse, the sloshing continued to grow louder and louder. Korā wished her teacher would hide with her until they could figure out what it was, yet at the same time she felt ashamed for possibly overreacting.
Suddenly, when it grew loudest, the rhythmic sloshing stopped. It was difficult to make out in the starlight, but the mists seemed to part a ways out, billowing and curling off one particular area in spiraling eddies.
A splash sounded, and Korā thought she caught a glimpse of white where the surface was disturbed. A second splash sounded in the fog, and the flash of white froth appeared closer. Any resulting ripples were quickly eaten by the flowing surface of the river.
The third splash disturbed the water a few yards directly in front of them, almost having reached the bank. The bubbles subsided, leaving behind a large hole in the water that refused to fill back in, seemingly defying all laws of physics.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, the hole vanished again, filling back in with a rush of water.
And a second hole materialized much, much closer.
With her eyelids still scrunched closed, Krystal began to squirm. Before long she broke out into full-on tossing and turning beneath the covers, her motions growing more desperate and erratic by the second.
Her violent tossing eventually disturbed the young todd at her side. He shifted and turned over but otherwise showed no hint of waking, nor reflected any of the same signs of her distress.
Āni scowled and struck a fighting stance. She drew her wooden staff and brandished it towards the river and the strange pair of holes in the surface. "Get back!" she mentally urged Korā; it was too late to run for herself.
"Who are you?" she demanded aloud. "Show yourself!"
The series of splashes lurched to a stop right next to the shore. The water flowed around two large indentations as if they were the ghosts of stepping stones. Otherwise, no audible answer greeted her challenge.
Sister Āni paused to reach out with her mind, trying to discern what was causing the strange effect in the water. Then, when she seemed to find her answer, she gasped and faltered.
Sister Āni? Korā asked her. What's wrong? What is it?
Before the kaitaki could respond there was a violent disturbance at the water's edge. The mist in front of her parted in either direction, only for Āni to raise off her feet and hurtle through the air. The flailing Cerinian missed Korā's tree by a mere foot, allowing the younger student to feel the breeze from her cloak as she passed.
"Sister Āni!" she cried aloud this time. Unable to figure out what had caused it she turned from the river and rushed into the forest after her. She found her teacher lying flat on her back in a bed of dried leaves and petals, her cloak spread out like a pair of wings beneath her. She lay face up, staring at the overhead canopy with wide eyes.
"Are you alright?!" Korā gasped, falling to her knees beside her.
Āni blinked after a moment, then coughed dryly. When Korā's eyes adjusted to the dark of the woods she noticed something had torn through the front of her teacher's robe, shredding it. The garment lay in tatters over her chest, discolored by a quickly-growing dark stain. It appeared like sharp objects had rent it to pieces, yet the tears didn't seem like any claws she recognized; there was no rhyme or reason to them, besides running in the same direction.
Korā jolted when a branch snapped behind her, and the sound of rustling leaves reached her ears. She drew her own staff and spun around to face the intruder, afraid of finding a hulking shadow there. But once again, she found nothing – and that was somehow worse than if she had found something.
"Halt!" she shouted. "Don't come any closer!"
But the thrashing sound of the leaves continued to approach, unabated by her words.
Though fear seized her heart, Korā tried to remember her training. She held one of her hands out and summoned a fistful of leaves into her palm. On her command a fire burst to life from the dried plant matter. She waved her paw back and forth, the flame hovering in sync with it, but the bright light didn't seem to scare off the presence.
Growing more desperate the Cerinian knelt down and planted her palm on the forest floor. Under her mind's guidance the flames quickly jumped from leaf to leaf, igniting the ground in between her and the approaching noise. The entire grove lit up in bright orange light, yet she still couldn't make out what was assailing them. Her fires shot forward until they seemed to meet an invisible wall, which they futilely attempted to consume or climb up.
Frustrated, Korā caused a gust of wind to lift some of the burning leaves off the ground. They swirled into the air around the wall, revealing it to be more of a column – a defined shape with some amount of mass. In short: an invisible being.
The creature seemed angry its form had been revealed. The burning curtain of leaves parted to either side, and the debris at its feet kicked up behind it. A gust of wind rushed to meet Korā, and something hard struck her squarely in the chest. Like her sister the vixen flew backwards and landed against a tree, knocking the wind out of her. For a second she slid down to her seat and lost hold of her staff. She couldn't use it if she wanted to; all of her will had to be focused on kickstarting her lungs just to breathe again.
The carpet of fire continued to burn, illuminating two dents in the piles of leaves only a foot away from the black silhouette of Āni's prone body. Then, right before Korā's eyes, her teacher began to jerk and jolt to either side, strips tearing off of her clothes and flying in either direction. At least, she hoped those were merely pieces of her clothes…
Finally Āni seemed to come to. She cried out with each jolt, pain wracking her voice. She raised her hands to ward off the unseen attacker and kicked with her feet, but it was all in vain. She couldn't stop the being from shredding her apart.
By the time Korā regained her breath, all she could do was open her mouth wide and scream.
Krystal bolted upright, eyes snapping open as the last echoes of her cry dissipated between the trees. Finally Fox awoke as well, startled by the loud noise. He rolled to his side in time to see Krystal madly slashing at some invisible foe. She swung her paws wildly, claws extended at the open air, but of course there was nothing there to fight. Her motions caused powerful gusts of wind to rip through the glade, snapping branches free of their trees and tearing leaf from stem.
The vixen's erratic actions frightened Fox, and he backed away from her. The terrified look on her face said she'd probably kill anyone who came close, but what did those wide eyes see that his couldn't?
After a few seconds of her aimless attack, Krystal realized she was getting nowhere. She had only succeeded in tearing the forest apart, leaving claw marks rent through bark and scraped over stones. Her desperate cries faltered, and the swipes from her arms grew weaker and weaker. She turned to look at Fox, and the todd couldn't help but flinch, fearing the focus of her ire was upon him. In that moment she recognized he was the only other person there, and that her imagined assailants didn't exist – or at least, had since vanished. With her dreamed-up threat gone, Krystal slumped forward and held her head in her hands, shaking.
Fox just stared at her for the time being, shocked by the violent way she'd lashed out from her sleep. It dawned on him that everything she'd done to the trees and rocks in the forest glade she could have easily done to him. But when her quiet sobs began to reach his ears, he gulped his fear down and approached her anyway.
"Krystal…what's wrong?" He sat beside her, putting an arm over her shoulder and drawing her closer. He half-expected the vixen to lash out as soon as he touched her, but she made no move to. "Was it another nightmare?" he asked.
"It's gone," she cried, rocking herself in place. "It's-gone-it's-gone-it's gone…"
"What was it?" he asked gently, stroking her hair.
She sniffed, trying to stop from crying. "Ugh. I was back in the labs again. It's always the labs. I'm miles and miles away from them, farther than I can even comprehend, yet they keep dragging me back for more of their torture…"
Fox's muscles tensed, an anxiousness seizing his gut, but he asked anyway. "Would it help to show me?"
Krystal didn't answer at first. She continued sniffing back tears, her shoulders shaking.
Preparing himself for what he might see, Fox closed his eyes and timidly reached out to her with his mind.
As soon as their thoughts began to overlap, Fox was assaulted by a repeated set of images. Krystal did her best to shove them down and focus on the present: the subtle glow of the purple mushrooms, the touch of the grass, the warmth of Fox's arm, the sound of the waterfall – but they kept bobbing back up to the surface despite her best efforts, haunting her all the same. Fox knew the predicament well; when confronted with horrific imagery, it was harder to shut the mind's eye than it was to shut one's outward eyes.
All he managed to catch of the memory were glimpses, but somehow they were worse than the full thing; his mind kept filling in the gaps with a thousand horrid possibilities – each exponentially worse than the last. Through Krystal's eyes he saw the ceiling of a cave, and bright, blinding lights facing down at her. A sprawling, spider-like machine with lanky, hinged arms swung into view, its dark silhouette flailing against the light. While ghostly figures watched from the periphery of her vision, the skeletal limbs curled inward, like an arachnid's legs upon death, or when it fed on its prey. Against the white light he made out what looked like hundreds of impossibly-thin needles, their sharp points angling down at him. They began to lower a torturous inch at a time while Fox's vision flailed side-to-side, as if Krystal's head were shaking, until they finally sank in.
They pierced like a thousand pinpricks of light, each burning with the fiery intensity of a star. And still the arms lowered, sinking the tips deeper. The flailing immediately stopped, instead holding completely still so as not to exacerbate the pain of the needles. The echoes of Krystal's unraveled thoughts reached his ears. She didn't understand the purpose. She didn't know why they were doing it. She turned her head to the side to plead with the Watchers, but their faces remained hidden. She begged them to end it – or at least to end her – but they didn't seem to hear a word she said. Instead they merely repeated,
Stop it yourself.
When the pain didn't lessen, Krystal's anguish turned to anger, till all Fox saw through her lids was red. She wanted nothing more than to end them-
"NO!" Krystal yelled again, wrenching herself free from Fox's arm. She fell away and caught herself on the ground, shoulders heaving as she struggled to breathe. Fox swayed in place, blinking as he tried to process the horrors he'd seen. The more he tried to put the frenzied pieces together, the more he understood of her suffering, and the more he wished he hadn't. He tried to shake the images, but now knew how hard it was for Krystal to avoid them as well. What once was her memory had also become his. There was no unseeing it.
"I'm sorry Fox," Krystal sobbed while avoiding his gaze. "I finally understand why you hide things from me. You're just trying to protect me. There are some things you shouldn't let anyone else see. I…I want to keep you safe from them, even if I have to bear them alone."
That cut Fox to the quick. He had always thought of himself as the strong one – the one who made the sacrifices to protect her, trying to shoulder as much of the burden as he could alone. All of her pestering to let her into his head and bare his all, and now she was afraid of doing the same for him. It hurt to think how much their positions had changed since they first met.
Fox's head hung low. "I'm sorry. I failed you. I thought that maybe, if I was there for you, the nightmares would never come in the first place. But they did anyway – even with me by your side." He clenched his fist. "I wanted so much to stop them from happening. I wish I had the chance to break into your dreams, or go back in time and put myself between those needles and you. I wish I could just…" he clenched his fists till they shook, "shoot something! But…I can't. I've failed."
Finally Krystal turned around and drew closer to him. When she spoke again her voice was soft and tender, immediately soothing his frustration with its mere tone.
"Fox…all I wanted was for you to be there when I woke, so you could chase the dreams away. And you did."
Smiling at her earnestness, Fox pulled her in for a hug. She continued to sniff quietly into his chest, dampening the fur there. Meanwhile Fox used his embrace to dispel the last remaining shadows of her nightmares till none remained.
"I wish they'd all stop," Krystal murmured. "I wish I could forget everything that happened in my past – at least, up till I met you." Her fingers tightened around his arms, startling Fox. "I used to fear the Watchers and their beasts, but now I don't anymore. I just hate them. I know they couldn't hurt me if they tried to imprison me now. I've grown too strong for them. I've learned too much." She clenched her teeth, looking past Fox. "I hate how much power they have over me, even after you killed them all. I hate the Cornerians too, for keeping me in those caves and chasing us away when you freed me. Even my own damn people want to lock me up and control me, telling me what to do and who I can see and love. They want to keep the two of us apart. I don't know who they're more afraid of: you, or me."
"Krystal," Fox tried to soothe, "they're only doing what they think is best-"
"I don't care! All I know is they're hurting me – they're hurting us, and that's enough. I wish I didn't feel so lost and confused. I wish I could do…something. Maybe if I worked more at growing and mastering these powers I have, I could use them for good." He felt her fists clenching atop his chest, as if she were testing her own strength. She growled, becoming impassioned again. "I could return with you to that dark planet and brush away the guards and the ships and the walls in our way as if they were the petals on this hill! Then we'd rescue the rest of my sisters and bring them somewhere safe, and no one would dare stop us!"
Krystal sighed and buried her head in Fox's chest again. "But I don't know if we can ever go back unless it's with your people, by force. Maybe it's best if I didn't think about it, like you said, but I can't help it. Sometimes I just feel so frustrated and powerless…"
While the vixen seemed to be calming down again, her outburst of angst alarmed Fox. The pieces of a puzzle were beginning to fall into place for him, but the complete image they began to form was one he feared seeing. Flashes of memories from the past few months raced before his vision: the awesome power contained in the Bolse satellite; his mother's face dancing with sparks and licks of rainbow flames as Andross pulled her free from its core; her stone statue weeping in the Garden of Tears; the blinding flash and peal of thunder high up on the mountains, where Krystal had been meditating; and now the eviscerated trees and torn branches surrounding them from when she'd awoke in a fright.
While his paranoid mind strung the collection of images together, Namah's warning came back to him: "If her condition worsens, and you continue to stay by her side, there's a very real chance she may unintentionally…"
"…Fox?"
He flinched, remembering even his thoughts weren't safe from Krystal. He prayed she hadn't caught a glimpse of any of those worries.
"What's wrong?" she prodded.
"It's nothing," he reassured her. But he pushed her away to get a good look at her. "Do you feel better now? Are you sure you're okay?"
Krystal met his eyes and nodded. "Yes, it's passed." She smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell the dreams from reality, and they leave me in an awful state. I'm sorry I startled you."
He chuckled – a little more nervously than he would have liked. "I don't mind, but we should get some rest for tomorrow. We can't stay up all night like this."
"I know, but I wish we could…"
The two crawled back under the covers again and turned in for the night. Once they were silent, the sound of the waterfall and the wind in the leaves returned to soothing their ears.
Finally, when Fox felt sure Krystal had fallen asleep, he allowed himself to exhale freely. He hated to admit it, but the thought of spending every night with her began to worry him. He no longer felt like he could be free and open with every thought in his mind; not when they might worry or frighten her if she saw them. If she knew that he feared her, just like Mother Namah did, and just like everyone else, she'd never trust him again.
If his own mother, a Lylatian, had but a mere taste of that intense power and turned herself to stone to thwart it, what was the girl in his arms capable of? How could he live with her, stay by her side night after night, much less make love to her, having to hide those thoughts while knowing she was capable of…
He didn't allow himself to finish the thought. Instead he looked at the form of Krystal lying peacefully unaware at his side.
…Maybe it was a trick of the darkness, or the faint purple glow in the glade, but for a split second Fox saw the vixen's sea of blue bathed in red.
The instant Korā's scream faded the Cerinian felt a strong gust of wind. It seemed to snuff out the fire in the forest, blowing away whatever was attacking Sister Āni as well. The wind – and the mysterious force with it – dispersed through the trees. It blew right past her, rifling through her cloak and fur coat to chill her very bones.
Korā sat slumped against the tree for a minute, catching her breath. Besides her desperate gasps and the flowing of the river, the shore had gone back to being silent again. Her mind burned with a single question:
What in Cerinia's name was that?
Then she remembered Āni.
With her aching limbs protesting, she lifted herself up and stumbled to her teacher's side. The other vixen still lay flat on her back with her cloak spread out beneath her, but Korā gasped when she saw the shear amount of blood covering her torso. She knelt by her side and listened for any brain waves signifying she'd survived, then breathed a sigh of relief when she found them.
Closing her eyes she broadcast her thoughts as loudly as she could, praying the other nearby watchwomen would hear her call for help and come to her aid. Āni's life was at stake, and the Kaumatua had to be warned. She had to tell someone of the night's events, and fast – before it returned.
procedure 07: bsltrl. cmplx
