Disclaimer: The Star Fox characters belong to Nintendo. Please support the official releases, yes, even Command. I decided to rate this story M because it contains adult themes, sexual references (sorry, nothing explicit), alcohol abuse, daft humour and maybe major character death.

Author's note: Just because some things frighten me, when they should not. This is a story about love and acceptance.

Krystal

"I'm having fish tonight!" Leon's excited voice echoed in her headset, as Krystal could see the lasers from his Wolfen slicing through the frail aluminium fuselage of yet another Anglar fighter. "Butterflied and grilled, just the way I like 'em."

A rather large school of the pesky Pisces from the Venom Seas had descended upon the Katina base, which hence was under heavy attack. Leon was zipping back and forth in Rainbow Delta, slicing up enemies with the speed and precision of a teppanyaki chef. The culinary show was interrupted by the occasional lightning bolt, when Panther electrocuted eels with the zapper of his Black Rose. Krystal herself joined the feeding frenzy with gritted teeth and sweat beading in the fur on her forehead, trying her hardest to keep level in the kill count. People always said she was such a kind and curious person. Well, they should see her now! How had it come to this? What had happened?

Fox! He had happened. That one eternal and infinitely stupid fool had happened. The idiot she had fallen for at first sight, and not just literally. She had tried so hard with him, but every attempt at flirting was to no avail, only resulting in flustered stuttering and bright blushes. Sometimes she had thought he was gay, which kind of would have been easier to accept, but no, she had noticed the way he looked at her. After fighting a whole damned war at his side, against the Aparoids of all things, had he finally expressed his feelings for her. Oh, how she had wanted that, how she loved him, how she had longed for ... not being kicked off Star Fox, just because he wanted to 'protect' her.

'Like I need protection,' she thought, and let the Cloud Runner's twin lasers cut yet another Anglar ship into identical twin pieces. Self defence she had already known, but Fox had first taught her to fly when she joined Star Fox, then he had taught her to kill against the Aparoids, and finally he had taught her to hate when he forced her off the team. That's how she'd become such a cold killer, she mused, as she launched a smart bomb into a cluster of enemy ships. That's where the loathing and fury came from, that ... or PMS. Actually, the latter wouldn't be all bad news, because that meant she wouldn't be having kittens anytime soon.

"F...!" She Kursed as a blast slammed into her starboard shield, temporarily drowning out all other sounds in the cockpit.

"Krystal, my sweet! Are you well? Panther was worried!"

"How about you help me instead of just worrying? I can't shake this mother..." Another blast hit her rear shield. An Anglar was right on her tail, angry laser beams flashing past way too close for comfort. With white knuckles she gripped the controls, swerving this way and that. She wished the Cloud Runner was as nimble as the Arwing it was based on, but that was the price she paid for its heavier artillery. Finally, she put her ship in the tightest barrel roll the G-diffusors could handle, putting her behind the Anglar. Furious, she put the twin lasers to good use and flew straight through the resulting cloud of debris, some of it getting through the shields and scratching up the paintwork. That didn't help her mood, so she set off after her next victim.

"I'm fine, Panther, thanks ... for nothing," she could finally reply. "But why the hell are you talking in third person?"

"Sexy isn't it?" purred the jungle cat.

She rolled her eyes, but then had to roll her ship as well, as three angry red triangles showed up behind her on the radar, and the klaxons for radar lock started blaring. Three Anglars were harder to shake than one, especially since they'd learnt her little barrel roll trick from their fallen friend.

"I could use some help here," she called, but Leon and Panther were busy with dog fights of heir own. It seemed like the fish foes kept spawning even in the midst of the battle. If only Wolf was here!

"Krystal! Can you hear me? It's me, Fox!"

What? Was it her imagination? She was hit by another blast, dipping the shield indicators into yellow, but her following array of profanities was drowned out by a Nova Bomb going off and obliterating her pursuers. A sleek white and blue fighter passed over her, flying upside down, so that she could get a glimpse of the pilot looking at her from his cockpit. She couldn't believe her eyes. Fox in his Arwing!

"I've come to get you! I want you to rejoin the team!" he hailed her, as he circled around to pull up by her side. After what he'd done, and after what she'd done, he still wanted to help her? How she secretly had longed for this moment - but not out in space. Seriously? She had been hoping for something like a romantic dinner for two. And the timing - during an ongoing battle - was odd, but Fox in a nutshell, really. A video call came through, she accepted, and his face appeared on the holo screen.

"Krystal! I'm coming to cover you!" he said as they longingly looked at each other.

"Ha, ha, ha! Never get cover from a Fox... when you can run to a panther!" The interrupting hail was followed by a jungle cat's mating call.

"You knew, didn't you, Fox?" she said as a bottomless sadness came over her. "You should go home now!"

Oh yes, she had let the big cat get inside her pants all right, as much to get at Fox as anything else. But it had been temporary and cold comfort. Despite Panther being such a smooth operator and seducer, once he got his way it was just wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Fox on the other hand had such tenderness and ... stamina ... well, sometimes at least.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another wave of Anglar fighters attacking, and the quartet set to work. But with an ace pilot like Fox at their side, the tide was turned, and the enemies were dispatched like fresh fish on a seafood market. While they were busy, she could keep her feelings in check, but it would only last so long. Finally they thought they'd got all the enemies, and all they needed was a runway sweeper to clear up the debris.

Fox's muzzle appeared on her screen again.

"The Krystal you once knew is gone," she explained to him, trying to hold back her tears. "She is no longer a part of your world!"

"Krystal, I was a fool! A selfish, rude, arrogant fool. Please come back!"

She couldn't believe it. She'd spent the last year trying to hate him, but now her heart was breaking from just seeing him again.

"Well,... if you apologise to me. Then maybe I'll think about it ... maybe."

There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry, Krystal! I'm so sorry!"

Panther and Leon had found the private channel and were cutting into the conversation, but she heard them not. Her mind was in turmoil. Which was right; loyalty to Star Wolf or love of Fox?

Even after that letter she'd sent him, he still wanted her back.

She made a decision.

However, personal matters can be a dangerous distraction in space. Krystal was too consumed with her mixed emotions of love and guilt. The three men were too busy trading verbal blows with each other. Neither of them noticed the three stray Anglar fighters until the lasers started tearing into the shields of the Cloud Runner. Fox swiftly took out one, while Leon and Panther both went for the second one, letting the third one slip through their formation. Krystal hit full throttle to get out of the way, but one of the Anglar fighter's blasts took out her left G-diffuser, sending the Cloud Runner tumbling out of control and straight into the course of the incoming foe.

The emptiness of space carries no sound, so metal crumbled, composites tore, and glass shattered in complete silence as the two ships collided. There was just a brief whoosh as the air in her cockpit escaped into the vacuum. A wave of agonising pain washed through her body, a blinding white light flashed before her eyes, and then there was stillness.

As the white light faded into the blackness of the universe, sprinkled with a backdrop of stars, she could see the most peculiar sight. An Arwing and two Wolfen fighters were circling a cloud of debris, and in the middle of it floated her own frozen body. Most of it anyway.

She tried to reach out, but her hand was translucent, grasping nothing, not even empty space. She willed herself closer, but only found herself drifting away from the scene.

'Krystal! No, it can't be?' She could still hear Fox's voice clearly in her mind.

'Fox, I love you!' She tried to shout, but she had no body, no lungs, no voice.

'Krystal! No, it's all my fault.' His voice again, but more faint this time.

'Fox, I forgive you. Please, forgive me.' She tried to reach out with her telepathic mind, but that was failing too, his thoughts fading away, only leaving their combined pain and regret.

She understood what was happening. She was dying, her body already dead, her brain shutting down. There was no flashing of her life before her eyes, just that single point of realisation, that she would never be able to say the words that she so desperately needed him to hear. The emotion was overwhelming, freezing her last conscious thought in a moment of never-ending anguish.

As she drifted further away from the wreckage, a blue light appeared, then another, and another. Finally, there were six of them circling around her in all different orbits, slowly growing and taking shape. She recognised the translucent masks with their long tentacles.

Krazoa spirits. And they spoke.

'Krystal of Cerinia'

'Warrior of Vixon'

'Saviour of Sauria'

'Your work here is done'

'We've come to guide you'

'Out of this dimension'

Her mind wasn't dead yet, and neither was her hope. She had channelled their powers in the Krazoa Palace. They had resurrected Andross. They could do it again.

'Please, I cannot go,' she pleaded with them.

'But you must.'

'It is the way.'

'Please, not yet!' She was getting desperate. 'There's something I need to tell Fox.'

'Would you rather be a ghost'

'Than have the afterlife?'

'I only need a few moments.' She racked her spirit mind, searching for a convincing argument. 'You said it yourself, I helped save Sauria, and so did Fox. If not for me, then please do it for him.'

The Krazoa kept circling her in ominous silence. Finally, they spoke again.

'There may be a way'

'We sense a body'

'Which lost its soul'

Then they dissolved while leaving some parting words.

'From realisation comes regret.'

'From remorse comes resolve.'

'From redemption comes resurrection.'

What the heck was that supposed to mean? Was it one of those Saurian tests?

The blinding white light flashed before her imaginary eyes again, and then there was darkness.

The darkness refused to give way. As Krystal's mind slowly woke up, the first sense to come online was smell. It wasn't pleasant. Bleach and other chemicals stung her nose. But there was the scent of people as well. Then her ears started registering sounds; muffled voices and a rhythmic beeping. Things fell into place. She was in a hospital! She tried to make out to the voices.

"...no waves..."

"...braindead..."

"...such a shame...to young..."

"...let's turn off life support..."

"...time of death..."

What were they talking about? She heard clicking noises as equipment was switched off, and the wheezing of a ventilator stopped. The beeping of the heart rate monitor slowed down. She panicked, but she couldn't move. Surely the Krazoa wouldn't be so cruel as to bring her back alive, only for her to die again? The beeping slowed further, as she fought to stay alive, and it refused to stop completely. Her lungs burned as she started suffocating from the lack of oxygen, and she focussed all the willpower she had left on her diaphragm. Painfully and slowly her chest rose, and the beeping picked up speed again.

The voices were as diffuse as before.

"...what in the world..."

"...still breathing..."

"...impossible..."

"...miracle..."

The voices faded away again, and the last thing she heard before she fell asleep, was the steady sound of the heart rate monitor.

Everything was a blur, as she drifted between sleep and consciousness. She was vaguely aware of doctors and nurses coming and going. They poked and prodded her body, and shone lights in her eyes. She tried to speak, but no words would come out.

Eventually, she was left alone for a moment, and her head cleared enough to string a few thoughts together. She opened her eyes and had a good look around, but it looked like a generic hospital room; utilitarian with sterile surfaces of white plastic and shiny metal. There was nothing to give away in which hospital or on which planet or ship she was.

She concentrated on her body instead, and started wiggling fingers and toes. It felt okay, except her left arm, which was locked in place by something, and there was a dull pain in her left shoulder. There was something on her face, so she crossed her eyes and saw an oxygen mask over her muzzle. Something seemed off, maybe the colour. She managed to wriggle her right arm out of the bedsheets, and with considerable strain lifted it high enough so that she could see.

It had light orange-tan fur, not blue.

Her mind pieced together what has happened. The Krazoa had mentioned a body without soul, and the doctors had declared someone braindead. The spirits must have put her soul into that body. She felt a pang of guilt, sorrow for the poor soul who had lost their life, yet she was ... grateful. She was alive. She had a second chance of life, and to see Fox again.

But what was she? Her right paw looked familiar, except for the colour. She put her hand back under the sheets and felt a thick fluffy tail, so she guessed she was some sort of vulpine, or maybe a canine.

A nurse walked into the room, dressed in full scrubs and with a mask over his muzzle, and walked up to her bed for another checkup.

"How are we today?" He went through the usual routine of checking her pulse and shining that annoying torch light in her eyes. "You've got a pretty persistent visitor. Do you feel up for it?"

She tried to speak, but only a croaking noise came out, so she nodded instead.

"Okay, I'll let him in just for a little while."

The nurse walked over to the door, opened it, and her eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. Into the room strode a grey bulldog in a green and white Corneria Air Force jumpsuit. His ears were nearly folded in half, drooping over green eyes.

"Hiya there, Sam!" He beamed a smile at her.

"Bill?" she replied, but her voice was deep and hoarse, not having spoken for days.

"I know you're a fighter, but you've gotta take it easy for a while," said Bill Grey. "Am I glad to see ya or what? That was a damn hard hit you took. You remember anything yet?"

She shook her head.

"That figures. Doctors say you can't even remember your name. Damn stray Anglar ship crashed into the hangar and exploded. Piece of fuselage hit you in the head and knocked yer helmet clean off." His hands attempted a rather animated enactment of the incident. "We all thought we'd lost ya, but her you are! Helluva lot tougher than you look, you are, Sam!"

He gave her cheek a pat, affectionately but with some force.

"Reminds me of an incident playing football in the academy. I played quarterback and got completely cleaned up and concussed. It took me a while to remember that I'd actually thrown the ball before getting tackled, a wide receiver caught it and touchdown. Don't worry, we'll help you fill in the blanks."

He held up one of those humorous cards, and opened it up so she could see the inside filled with sprawling signatures and cheeky greetings like, 'Get well, cutie.'

"They've got an odd sense of humour, that squadron, but you now they all love ya." He placed the card on a nightstand next to the bed. "Well, I'd better be going before the doctors throw me out, but you just rest and let 'em take care of ya. You'll be back in the cockpit before you know it."

With a salute, a thumbs up, a wave and another thumbs up he left her all by herself in the room, alone and with time to contemplate.

'Sam?' she thought. Of course, with a new body there would be a new name. It must be short for Samantha. Still, she couldn't believe her luck. None other than Bill Grey knew her new 'self' and Bill knew Fox. She had no idea whatsoever how she was going to explain to Fox what had happened to her, but Bill could introduce them, and she'd figure it out from there.

This was going to be great!

If anything, she was starting to get impatient. A couple of days had passed. Doctors and nurses came to check on her and fuss over her, but she was stuck in the hospital bed, while all she wanted was for Bill to come back and take her to Fox. While she was tired and in pain, and slept a lot, she always startled at the noise of the door opening, hoping for good news.

This time, two nurses - a ridiculously fluffy white dog and a skinny brindle mutt - entered the room.

"How are we today, Sam?" asked the samoyed.

'What's with the we?' Krystal in Sam's body wondered to herself. 'Don't know about you, but I can't wait to get out of here.'

"I think it's time we get you moving," said the mutt. "Would you like to try to get up on your feet?"

She tried to answer but she just sounded hoarse. She put it down to not being used to her new body's vocal cords, and nodded frantically instead. Gently the nurses helped her to sit up on the edge of the bed, and then they put her left arm in a sling. She carefully put one paw after the other on the floor, and slowly stood up while the mutt held her under her right arm.

Her legs were very wobbly, but they slowly did a couple of laps of the room, the nurses helping and guiding her as best as they could. Her sense of balance slowly returned, as did her strength. Her legs were not injured, she was just stiff from being stuck in the bed for days. She did however feel nature calling.

"Sorry, need to go to the toilet," she croaked, wondering what was wrong with her voice.

They helped her out of the room and across a corridor, where the nearest bathroom was located.

"I assume you want some privacy," said the samoyed when they had helped her sit down on the toilet. "Will you be OK?"

She nodded. She felt fine. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, she relaxed to do what she needed to do, and it was then she realised. Something felt different. She pulled up the hospital robes and to her shock saw that there was a certain ... appendage ... between her legs. Obviously she wasn't a Samantha fox after all.

Krystal who was now Sam stopped outside the door.

The Anglar Blitz was over and the war was won. Bill Grey had gone to Corneria to meet with General Peppy for debrief and celebrations, and he'd been kind enough to accompany Sam to his home in Corneria City. She was still claiming that she had amnesia, because she knew nothing about Sam, but Bill had told her everything he knew about the previous owner of her new body, as well as shown her the way to Sam's apartment.

She took a deep breath, exhaled very slowly and put a paw on the door handle. The fingerprint scanners came to life, and after a second the lock's indicator went from red to green. A small display lit up as the door lock clicked; 'Welcome home Samuel Swift'.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the small apartment, pulling a cabin luggage behind her. The door slowly closed behind her and she took in the apartment. It had an open floor plan, with a living area being the centrepiece. It was simple yet nicely decorated with soft colours. She couldn't help thinking it was a bit sexist, but it seemed like it had been furnished by someone with a slight female touch, although she knew Sam didn't have a girlfriend.

It had a rather minimalistic look, with light timber furniture in Fichinavian design. She walked into the kitchen, which had stainless steel appliances, a farmhouse sink and a light coloured countertop that she recognised as emperor stone. While it was reconstituted quartz rather than granite, it certainly looked the part and felt like the real thing to touch, yet a lot less expensive. It was a smart choice. She found herself wishing that Fox had some of Sam's taste.

She looked out the kitchen window, and saw the magnificent skyscrapers of downtown Corneria City some distance away. The apartment itself was located on the fourth floor in an older and less expensive neighbourhood, but looking down on the narrow street, she could see all manner of shops, cafes and restaurants from several different planets. It seemed like a bustling and entertaining place to live, with everything a young fox might want.

The simple yet elegant design continued in the bathroom, which also had an ample amount of face level storage, including a cleverly recessed cabinet over the vanity. She closed the cabinet door again and saw her new reflection in the mirror. Although it was not for the first time, it was still a shock. A tan furred vulpine face with dark patches on its slender muzzle was looking back at her with hazel eyes. Although it wasn't very masculine, it was definitely a male. She'd always been aware of her looks, knew that people thought she was pretty, and quite liked it. But she thought Samuel was cute too. She could get used to her new face. The reflection's ears drooped. She had to get used to it.

Back out in the living room, she saw what looked like a simpler and more stylish version of a cockpit seat, with a virtual reality headset and gloves on a small table next to it. She sat down in the chair and put on the VR headset, which came to life and scanned her retina. She giggled as it recognised Sam and logged on to the game portal, showing Sam's avatar, which was a blue vixen. It seemed like Sam was quite the gamer. Donning the gloves, she waved her paws and various titles all involving fast vehicles and vessels scrolled in front of her eyes; everything from the teenage game Stellar Lynx, and an ultra-realistic Arwing simulator, to the demolition derby Schadenfreude and G-zero Tour Beryllium Edition.

The bedroom was coloured in soft greys and browns with a dash of crimson bordering on pink. The bed had just the right amount of decorative cushions , and a bedspread in a soft natural material that was nice to touch. She found an overturned picture frame on top of a chest of drawers and picked it up. In it was a photograph of a smiling Samuel and another guy, a fawn-coloured pug with a dark face and thick rimmed black glasses. In one corner the letters 'S+M' had been scribbled.

Her spirits sank. Sam's life had taken some rough turns. Bill had told her about it. Sam's mother had passed away several years ago, and his father was a high ranking officer in the CDF, who had disowned his son when Sam came out of the closet about his sexuality. To prove himself to his father, Sam had joined the army although he didn't like fighting. He had however shown a real knack for flying, and that's how he had ended up in one of Bill's squadrons. But because he spent so much time away from Corneria, his boyfriend had recently ditched him for someone else.

And then he died.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a melodic sound, and it took her a moment to figure out that it was the door chime. When she got to the door, she found that she still had the photo frame in her right hand, and her left arm was still in a sling, so she had no hands free. Improvising, she tucked the frame in the sling, and opened the door. In the corridor stood the pug from the photograph, barely reaching Sam to the shoulders, and the thick spectacles made him look even more cross-eyed than he actually was.

"Hello, Sam!"

"Oh... hi," she replied, trying to recall if Bill had mentioned his name.

"You remember me, right? Mike. We, err, used to be friends."

"Yeah, I know, come on in." She held up the photograph and beckoned Mike inside, who stepped into the apartment rather reluctantly. "I'm afraid I have a complete amnesia from the accident though."

"But it will pass, right?"

"We'll see, I guess." She shrugged with Sam's good shoulder.

"How's your arm?"

"It's just a dislocated shoulder. Nothing's broken?"

"Is everything else okay? Have they done MRIs and things?"

"All that and it's all clear. Why do you ask?"

"It's just, you sort of speak differently, that's all."

It dawned on her that she was probably speaking like herself, and even after years in Lylat, she had never quite lost her Cerinian accent. She had no idea what dialect Sam might've spoken. "Maybe it's to do with the amnesia," she offered.

"I was so scared when I heard you'd been in an accident. I always feared something might happen, ever since you told me you were in the army."

'What's with all the protective boyfriends,' thought Krystal.

"Mr. Gray sent me a message that you were back in town. I feel so terrible. When we split up, there were ... words ... I said ... things," Mike continued.

Krystal tried to use her telepathy to pick Mike's brain, to see what he didn't want to say, but she got nothing. She guessed the psionic sense was something biological and genetic after all, and Sam didn't have it. She hadn't just lost her body, but her unique ability as well. Her heart sank. Mike must have seen it, because he looked down with dropping ears.

"I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't be," she replied. "That's a good thing with memory loss, I guess. I can't remember the bad bits, so there are no hard feelings. I'm just happy to have a friend."

"You really mean that?"

"Yeah!" But she didn't know why she was so forgiving all of a sudden. Maybe she had learned from her mistakes. Maybe it was just how she hoped Fox would react. "I wish you all the best."

Mike wrapped his arms around Sam, squeezing the injured arm just a little too hard, and sobbed into Sam's shoulder. She put her good arm around him and couldn't resist a childish urge to pat Mike's wrinkly head and those floppy black ears.

"Thanks!" Mike sobbed and sniffled, the corners of his eyes moist. "I really must be going though."

"Okay, you take care and stay in touch if you want, you know, as friends."

After another hug, Mike left, and Krystal thought she'd handled it reasonably well. Maybe staying in touch wouldn't be such a bad idea. The more she knew about Sam the better, if she was going to continue living his life, but that was secondary. Firstly there was the issue about a certain Fox McCloud.

She went back to the bedroom to continue her tour of Sam's life, and started going through the wardrobes. Maybe she had expected something kinky since Sam was gay, but there was none of that, only neatly folded and ironed clothes. There were blue jeans in all shades, shirts and tees in various colours, some plain and some with elaborate patterns, and an impressive collection of name brand sneakers and basketball shoes.

Suddenly something caught her attention On the inside of a wardrobe door, there was a calendar, but not just any calendar; it was a topless calendar of the male Star Fox members, in the fashion of some firemen calendars she'd seen on the Cornet. She giggled at the memory of how the team had been asked to pose for a charity, which was collecting money to rebuild schools on Venom. At least one of the members had been very hesitant, but eventually the blushing vulpine had been convinced, and the photoshoot completed after various shenanigans.

She amused herself by going through the photos. Falco was being his cocky self and had no problems with showing off his feathery yet muscular avian chest. Fox had been doing his best to smile naturally, which Slippy had had no problem with, grinning from ear to ear (except he didn't have any external ones). She chuckled at the green amphibian puffing out the chest of his stumpy and slightly warty body. But then she rebuked herself. Who was she to laugh, just because she was of a different species? Maybe Slippy was a prime example of an amphibian male? Maybe his fiancée Amanda had seen this very picture and decided that Slippy was the man?

She flicked to the very last page and gasped. It was of Fox in front of his Arwing, and she remembered that particular photo very well. While the photographer was taking his time fiddling with his equipment, Krystal had rather cheekily pulled up her top and flashed her boobs at Fox, just to see if she could make him blush. It hadn't worked. Fox had just locked onto her gaze and given her a very salacious smile, and her mind scape had been assaulted by his emotions; love, desire, and lust.

Just then the photographer had snapped a picture, and captured Fox's face perfectly, a primal hunger radiating from his eyes. She loved that photo and couldn't stop staring at it. Sam had probably liked it too.

That's when she sensed a strong distress signal. It came from the nether regions, a tightening in Sam's underwear from something with a desired to be freed. Being of a curious nature, Krystal decided to investigate.