Prologue

Krystal sat with her head in her paws while the wax on her bedside table slowly burned away. A failed mission for the Star Fox team led to the death of their leader, Fox Mccloud. Krystal said that she hated him, etched the words into her mind, but not her heart.

Why am I crying? She asked herself, but no sound came from her moving lips. Salt and water entered them and she drew her paws away, unable to sit in the dark anymore. "Lights on," she whispered. Suddenly, the lights to her room lit and she blew out the candle. Next to it, no longer illuminated by the glow of the weak fire, but now in plain sight was an old memoir of her and her old crew. A picture of her and Star Fox.

She picked up the picture and water fell onto Fox's face. It was a sunny day and she could remember those great times, those great memories. She wore her old lacey tribal outfit with her staff in her paws and her emerald tiara on her head. She could remember the breeze and the warm air as it passed through her fur as she stood rigid while ROB took the photo. She laughed weakly to herself looking at her stiff posture and serious face while the rest of Star Fox smiled and were tumbling over each other.

A bubble built up beneath her throat and she could feel a sob slip its way through. The photo trembled with her shaky paws. She placed it back on the table, unable to look at it any longer. She decided, though her body protested, to go for a walk. Her door made a hiss when it opened and standing with his paw about to knock was Panther.

"K-Krystal, are y-you," Panther stuttered as he was caught off guard. "Are you doing alright?" He asked solemnly seeing her bloodshot and tired eyes.

Krystal choked down another bubble in her throat and nodded slowly. She didn't want to speak, and even if she did, she didn't think she could. Not now, at least.

Wolf O'donnell was shaken up by the news as well. He and the rest of Star Wolf were here in the Sargasso base. He didn't cry, but he was angry.

"Done crying?" He grumbled over the drink in his paw.

Krystal didn't answer. She just walked out of their private lounge and down the corridors around the station. Panther tailed behind her.

Several of the goons that were hired were unaware of the connection between Krystal and Fox, though that she was once a part of their team. They could see her now, angry, her face filled with scorn and hatred. How could she not be? The love of her life was taken away from her. Though she hated to admit that she still had feelings for the vulpine, now with Panther, she couldn't help but relish his embrace, the way he made her feel.

She was going to make whoever killed him pay. She was going to make it her burden to make them suffer. This was her curse.

"Miss Krystal," One of the thugs, a husky with dark brown and white fur, that dared to speak to her was carrying a stack of boxes and was then roughly pinned against an adjacent wall. The boxes tumbled out of his hands an several of the prototype handheld weapons that Wolf had 'ordered' the week before had just arrived.

"Don't call me that name," Her forearm held tight against the husky's throat. Her eyes were livid, no longer filled with tears.

"Yes. Ma'am." The husky's eyes rolled back into his head and his arms went limp.

Panther ran to Krystal and restrained her. "Krystal," He struggled to pin her arms down. The huskywas slumped on the floor, unconscious. "What hell are you doing?"

"I said don't call me that!" She shouted at the top of her lungs. Passerby's began to stare at the scene. The once beautiful, graceful Krystal was now disheveled and unruly. Her hair was ruffled and matted, falling into her eyes, no longer braided and kempt.

She snarled and thrashed trying to get her arms free. Her teeth were bared and she wailed, crying again. "Let me go!" She screamed. "Let me go, dammit!"

"Not until you calm the fuck down," Panther tightened his grip and her wrists. She felt the pain but didn't give up until a good five minutes of writhing. After he felt she had calmed down enough he let her drop to the floor. "What the hell has gotten into you?" He asked now level with her, squatting down to the floor.

"I miss him," She whispered. She refused to make eye contact and Panther had barely caught the whimpering vixen's words, but he knew.

"You still love him, too, don't you?" Panther asked.

She nodded and looked up again. Her eyes were filled once more with hatred. Never before had Panther seen her like this. Never had he seen anyone like this. "And you," Her voice quivered in a way that was not because of her crying. It was something else. "You are going to help me find who killed him." She used the wall and the unconscious husky as support, slowly crawling her way up. She leaned her weight back and looked up at the steel ceiling, giving out an exhausted, crazed giggle that turned into a laugh that echoed through the halls. "I'm going to make them suffer."