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Mission No. 31

Lilith System
CSS Justice

"Great Fox Down"

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Once again, Bill found himself standing in the Justice's cargo hold. Over the past day he'd consciously avoided the room, hurrying past the doorway whenever he made one of his inspection rounds—but the bay and its strange occupant nagged in the back of his mind all throughout the day, pestering and eating away at him until he finally gave in.

The expansive room was kept dark as usual—a choice meant to maximize the one-way mirror effect. But even in the dim light, Bill could see the Space Dynamics scientists milling about their equipment or chattering in hushed voices.

Dr. Makepeace, however, was not present this time.

Feigning confidence, Bill strode through the ranks of scientists towards 19's cell. The groups of conversationalists each fell silent as he passed, betraying looks at him. Regardless, he made it to the glass holding chamber unchallenged, observing 19 inside.

The Cerinian lay facing away from him on the bed, motionless; her silver hair spread out over the pillow. She hadn't even slipped beneath the covers, but lethargically sprawled atop them.

Bill's ear perked when he heard one of Space Dynamics' personnel approaching him from behind. Instead of giving him the chance to speak, he beat him to it.

"She's sleeping?" he asked.

The short, portly mole stopped by his side, fidgeting with his glasses. "No sir, just resting."

19 shifted as they talked, rolling over to face them. Bill's heart froze when her icy blue eyes came around to point at him, seeming to stare straight through the mirrors at his. A chill ran up and down his spine—but he knew she couldn't see them there.

"Does she… rest often?"

"Most of the day. Of course, that will change when she begins scanning for Cerinian 28."

Bill noticed the stack of holozines at the foot of her bed, still untouched.

"She does nothing else?"

"No sir, I'm afraid not. She never reads the holozines like we showed her, and besides eating her meals, she only sleeps. Her sole interaction is with Dr. Makepeace and the rest of our staff when we perform check-ups."

Despondent. Bill understood what she had done to earn herself such a prison, but witnessing her punishment in person made his heart ache. He didn't know if she deserved his pity or not, but regardless, he still felt it.

"I'd like to see her."

The scientist stuttered. "Um, s-sorry sir, I don't think we can permit that. Dr. Makepeace needs to be present for—"

"It's fine; I've visited her before. As captain of this ship, I take full responsibility."

"Well—"

"She isn't dangerous, is she?"

"No, but—"

"Then let me see her."

The mole sighed, wringing his stubby hands. "…Alright, but you'll be under close observation, and we'll have to report this incident to Makepeace."

"I understand. Now, if you'll please, the door…?"

Reluctantly, the mole walked over to the cell and unlocked one of the wall panels, swinging it outwards. Nodding to the antsy scientist, Bill ducked through, and the panel swung closed behind him, the seam in the mirror completely disappearing.

Slightly unnerved at sharing the room with a murderess, Bill quietly walked across the padded floor and sat at the foot of her bed. At once 19 lifted her head, brows arching in surprise—but she said nothing. Seeing himself reflected in those cold irises alone was enough to frighten him.

Neither spoke for a time, with Bill's attention awkwardly drifting around the room as he struggled to find a way to start. Eventually his gaze alighted on 19's untouched holozines, and he began to fidget with them. He spread them out, revealing an array of nature photographs, educational material about Cornerian society, lessons for teaching Venomian prisoners Cornerian, and even cartoons for entertainment: Cornerian kid shows that had been subtitled in Venomian. It was a shame she hadn't taken interest in the scientists' meager attempts to stimulate her.

Hoping to pique her curiosity in the material, he played one of the cartoon holozines, keeping the audio turned down while the characters got up to their usual antics. He even smirked in amusement—till she finally spoke.

"You… came back?" she said in Venomian, and his earpiece translated.

Bill glanced up from the holozine, but he left it playing while they talked. "Of course I did. You're my responsibility, after all. I just… wanted to inform you that we successfully made the gate jump. We're orbiting Cerinia now."

19 sat up, curling into a ball and leaning against her pillows. Once again, her face retreated behind her curtain of silver hair.

"I thought you'd never come back. I thought I scared you away like everyone else, and you'd never want to see me again. At least—" she nodded past the mirrors, "only from that side."

Bill unconsciously fidgeted with his hands. "Don't worry; I'm not scared of you."

"It's fine. I know you are. Everyone is. That's why they only look at me from behind the walls and never show themselves."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"

Her lone visible eye flicked to him. "Yes, you are—but you feel the same fear as the rest."

Bill struggled to answer, but 19 tilted her head down. "Why shouldn't you be scared? I understand. I'm scared of me, too—and I have to look at myself every day."

Bill glanced around at the mirrors, spotting the Cerinian's purple reflection echoed a thousand times in each one, stretching into the distance. Every angle was covered; her only way to hide from herself was to retreat behind her silver locks and not look.

Once again, the bulldog's pity overcame his fear. He scooted across the bed, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. "19… forget it. They told me you don't have powers anymore; you'll never do something like that again. It's in the past now and you can't change what you did… but you can make up for it. You may have taken many lives that day, but now you have a chance to save countless others."

She looked up at him in surprise. "How? How can I possibly…?"

"By helping us find Cerinian 28."

"28…" She lightly fingered the bandana tied around her arm. "The one who gave me this?"

"The one who escaped the labs, yes."

She looked hesitant. "But she is free; she doesn't have to live in the darkness anymore. All of us sisters dreamed of escaping one day—and she dreamed of it the hardest. I can't lead you to her if it means taking her back… there."

"It won't mean that," Bill promised, though he was unsure of it himself. "We need 28. With her powers, she can stop the suffering of billions of people. I know Andross wanted to use her as a weapon, but we can use her for peace. Please, if you want to make up for the pain you've caused, help us find her."

19 looked conflicted for a time, struggling with opposing desires in her head.

"If what you say is true," she finally answered, "I will help you find her—even if I'm not allowed to see her or the rest of my sisters ever again. But, when you get her back… will you wash away her blood like you did mine?"

Bill looked at her funny. "What do you mean? She doesn't need it; I saw her before she left Venom. There isn't any blood on her."

"There is," 19 quietly answered.

The bulldog studied her curiously for a second, struggling to understand. Deciding not to make anything of the strange girl's words, he clenched her shoulders instead. "Alright: I promise I will, just like I did for you."

He released her, then slipped off the bed and stood up. "I… need to leave now, but I'll see you again soon. We'll be working together a lot on this mission. I'll be relying on you, 19."

Bill forced a smile and slid the holozine towards her, ever so slightly. Then, turning, he walked to the door and found the scientist already opening it for him. The panel shut behind him, and he turned to watch 19 for a few seconds before he left. While she seemed sad to watch him go, to his relief, the cartoon holozine he'd left playing caught her attention. She flopped onto her stomach, watching with interest as the characters got up to mischief—but after a time, she pushed the holozine aside, her attention turning to a more challenging one: the Cornerian lessons.

Satisfied, Bill spun on his heel to leave—and walked straight into Dr. Makepeace.

"Oh… Doctor!"

The vixen stood in front of him with an elbow folded over her chest, her other hand supporting her chin thoughtfully. "Captain."

"…How long were you there?"

"I observed most of your interaction. I can't say I approve of you seeing her without my authorization, but you are the captain—and it seemed like your visit was fruitful."

He narrowed his eyes. "Fruitful? How do you mean?"

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I heard every word. We were worried 19 might feel reluctant to track down her escaped 'sister,' but using her past sins to motivate her to make up for them was a stroke of genius."

Bill clenched his fists. "That's not why I said it—"

"It's not? Then why visit our research subject? You didn't break regulations for personal reasons, Captain?"

He struggled to come up with an answer. "Because… it's important for her to… considering I'm in charge of… when I left her last time she seemed…"

As he fumbled, Makepeace's eyes glittered in the dark, a smirk baring her sparkling white fangs a bit—but thankfully at that moment, Bill's comm unit buzzed, rescuing him.

"Sir," Baines said over the intercom, "We've located the Great Fox. It's hiding in the ring system."

Bill gratefully placed a hand to his earpiece, blood beginning to pump. "On my way to the bridge. Brief me on the rest of the situation, Lieutenant."

Makepeace's brow lifted. "You found them?"

The bulldog nodded. "Fox's dreadnought."

She pursed her lips. "He didn't give us much of a chase this time."

"I don't think he knows where to go. It's not like he had much of a plan beyond using the gate. He's lost."

"Still…"

Makepeace strode back towards the holding cell. "I'll have 19 sense for 28's thoughtwaves. I will report my findings to you in the bridge."

Bill split as well, heading for the cargo hold's exit. "You can try, but with all due respect Doctor, you're wasting your time; it's not necessary."

When they pulled alongside the Great Fox, the dreadnought made no move to engage or evade. Cornerian crewmembers extended a boarding bridge across the open expanse between the two hulls, connecting both ships' passenger gates with a single, airtight passage.

Bill, Miyu, and Fay crouched halfway through the tunnel, their troops behind them. A demolition squad traced the door frame opposite them with plastic explosives, then rushed back to a safe distance. Bill gave them a hand signal, and one pressed the detonator. A bright explosion lit the passage, and the entrance gate to the Great Fox fell open with a deafening clang.

The three officers led their men inside, but the interior was void black. The only light came from the glowing orange edges of the door they had blown in, and the white light from the boarding tunnel behind them, which cast Bill, Miyu, and Fay's long shadows into the inky blackness. Not even the ship's red emergency lights were on. The air smelled stale, probably signaling that life support and other functions had been put to rest; the ship lay in hibernation to conserve energy. In response, Bill slipped his oxygen mask on, and the others followed his lead.

"Something's off," Bill said to his wingmates and fellow officers. "I've never known Fox to go down without a fight."

"Then he's hiding behind traps," Fay warned.

Bill weighed their options for a few seconds as everyone activated their helmet- or gun-mounted flashlights. "Spread out," he ordered, "and find McCloud and Cerinian 28. Set blasters to stun; we need them alive." He turned to his wingmates. "Fay, take your unit and search the storage areas. Miyu; take the hangar. I'll take the bridge."

"Roger that," both women answered as they split off with their soldiers.

"And stay on your guard," he added before they disappeared. "We've seen what Fox and his Cerinian are willing to do."

Once the three groups were out of earshot, Fay opened a private comm line to Miyu.

"Sheesh, is he always this protective of his officers?"

"Yeah. Well… ever since Venom."

. ⨭.

Fay led her team through the underbelly of the Great Fox where the storage rooms lay. They crept down the dark hallway, off of which split numerous closets and compartments on either side. One-by-one, they searched the rooms, but only found munitions crates, foodstuffs, and weapons inside. One odd room had sticky beer stains spread across the floors, walls, and strangely enough, even the ceiling—but they had dried up several days ago, meaning no one had been there since. Fay didn't want to guess how drunk Fox had to have been to cause the mess…

The spaniel led her troops into the second-to-last storage room, which was filled with cardboard boxes and steel crates holding replacement parts for the dreadnought. The maze of boxes presented the perfect place for fugitives to hide.

Fay and her men checked behind each of the stacks of supplies, blasters primed and ready to fire, but their flashlight beams and thermals turned up nothing. If anyone was aboard the ship, they weren't hiding here.

A clang sounded behind their backs, and Fay spun in time to see five or six flashlight beams all overlap on the door at once.

It had closed behind them.

The lieutenant rushed back to the entrance, hearing the sound of whirring treads fade in the outside hall just as she arrived. She tapped at the control screen to open it, but there was no juice left in the system; the unit was dead. She grabbed onto the handhold and tried to open it manually, grunting as she pulled, but it was no use.

"Someone's locked us in," one of the soldiers said.

"Obviously," Fay huffed. "Whittle, see if you can hotwire it back open."

The pug knelt in front of the control screen, opening his toolbox and withdrawing a screwdriver. While he opened the access panel, Fay put out a call from her headset. "Captain Grey, Lieutenant Lynx, we made contact with someone."

Bill's voice buzzed back. "Who?"

"I don't know; we were searching a storage area when someone shut and locked the door behind us."

"Do you want backup?" Miyu asked.

"Affirmative. Once we break out of here we should be able to trap them between our two positions."

. ⨭.

"Alright, we're en route," Miyu signed off. Her search party was originally headed towards the hangar, but she waved them back down the way they had come. They instead hurried to cut off the culprit's exit, planning to trap them between their group and Fay's—but once they turned down the next hallway, their flashlight beams landed on a Lylatian-sized figure at the opposite end. Before them stood one of the Great Fox's mechanized workers that usually milled about the ship: a ROB unit, they were called. It held a cardboard box in its claws, emotionlessly staring them down from across the hall.

Miyu trained her blaster on the robot. "Halt! Don't move!"

"Please do not fire; I surrender!" the ROB unit buzzed. It raised its hands above its head, but in doing so it dropped the box with a thunderous crash. Kinetic bullets and spherical grenades spilled onto the floor, quickly scattering across the ground until they covered the entire hallway in a carpet of rolling objects.

The lynx growled and sprinted after the robot, but she stepped on some of the cartridges and lost her balance. One of her men that recklessly followed suit had his feet completely fly out from under him, and he landed on his ass with a surprised yelp.

"Careful!" Miyu warned, but several of her other soldiers slipped as well. Cursing, she grabbed onto a guardrail and pulled herself into the next room, evading the sea of tiny deathtraps. She caught her breath for a moment in the doorway, then cried out when something sharp jabbed her backside like a bee sting. Grabbing the seat of her pants, she spun around and swept her flashlight beam quickly across the room's interior, but found nothing moving; it was just the Great Fox's medical bay.

As her beam moved across the room, it sent terrifying shadows crawling across the walls. Jointed robotic arms hung from the ceiling, carrying a variety of tubes and medical instruments. They looked like giant, many-armed spiders, but were otherwise still for the moment. The light of her flashlight glinted off sharp silver instruments sitting on the counters or lying on trays. Overall, the room felt like a house of horrors in the dark, but nothing Miyu saw showed any sign of movement.

Then a wave of black covered her vision, and everything seemed to go fuzzy. The world felt like it was spinning, and she had to hold onto the door for support. She shook her head, trying to keep herself awake, but she knew she was quickly fading.

The last thing Miyu saw in her shaky flashlight beam was a second ROB unit, dolled up in makeup and a medical apron to look like a nurse. In one claw it held a large syringe, the tube of which was empty, but the long needle still dripped something from the tip.

Then, she slumped to the floor and dreamed.

. ⨭.

Elsewhere on the dreadnought, Bill led the main force to the Great Fox's bridge. If they could bring life support and other functions back online, they would have a much easier—and pleasanter—time searching the ship.

A soldier's voice spoke through his headset. "Captain, we found a ROB unit on the way to meet Lieutenant Spaniel's team. We think it could be our culprit; the one who locked her into the storage room."

Bill frowned. "Why isn't Lieutenant Lynx the one relaying this to me?"

"She's… out cold. Fainted, in the med bay. We don't know what caused it." Bill waited in confused silence, but the soldier's voice returned. "Sir, we just spotted another ROB unit in the med bay." Then his voice became distant as the mic moved from his face. "My god that thing is freaky…"

Bill's grip shook around his headset. His men were being made fools of by an automated crew! If word of this ever got out—

At that moment his search party rounded the corner to the bridge, coming face-to-face with yet a third ROB unit. Once again, it was enshrouded in darkness until their shaking beams converged upon the figure. This one wore a white chef's hat and a thin, foreign mustache taped over its voice modulator.

The robot's eyes suddenly glowed to life before seeming to glare at them. It began slowly advancing in their direction, brandishing various kitchen appliances in its appendages: everything from egg-beaters to grilling tongs, skewers, and forks.

"STOP!" barked the bulldog, but it payed him no mind. The egg-beaters began whirling on the max setting, and the robot jabbed them behind one of his soldiers, catching the man's tail. The canine howled and tried to rip his appendage free, but it only made things worse. Before he could react, it had his tail tangled-up in the spinning beaters, threatening to tear it clean off his seat by the time it reached the end of the fluffy slack.

Bill had had enough. He flipped the gauge on his blaster back to lethal charge, set it to the robot's head, and fired.

The shot burned a hole straight through the other side of the head unit, exposing a sparking tunnel of circuits and wires, the ends of which were now singed black. The beaters ejected from the mixing unit, and the entangled soldier dropped to the floor, clutching his twisted tail.

Chef ROB moved no more.

Gnashing his teeth, Bill set his boot on the robot's chest and tipped him over backwards. He stomped past him and entered the bridge, where a holographic screen blinked to life. It pictured a cartoonish-looking face that appeared to be a caricature of the other ROBs. Bill recognized it as the central processing unit in control of all the automated crew: the program nested in the Great Fox's mainframe.

"You are trespassing on Star Fox property," it informed him in a tinny, patched-together voice. "You will either remove yourself from the premises or face continued resistance. Have you had enough?"

Behind Bill the soldier staggered to his feet, delicately trying to untangle his tail from the pair of beaters.

The bulldog could barely contain his rage. "I am Captain Bill Grey of the CDF. I order you to tell me your owner's location aboard the ship."

The program scrutinized him for a second. "You work for the Cornerian Defense Force. My owner is a private mercenary, therefore you have no authority over him, nor jurisdiction aboard his ship."

Bill crossed his arms. "Said PMC-owner is now Lylat's most wanted criminal. We have a warrant for his arrest."

"None-the-less," ROB stubbornly insisted, "it is a privacy violation for an automated crew program to divest personal information about its owner. You will have to take the matter up with my manufacturer—if necessary, in court."

"I don't have time to argue with a computer," Bill spat. He waved forth his tech expert, who inserted a device into the bridge's control panel. In a matter of minutes he had overridden ROB's security protocols, and nodded back to Bill.

The canid cracked his neck. "Now, let's try this again. Where is Fox McCloud?"

The technician had done his job, but now ROB only responded in a curt, icy voice—even for a robot. "My owner is no longer aboard the ship. He departed five hours ago."

"Did he take the girl with him?"

"Affirmative."

"Then where were you in orbit when he left?"

ROB went silent for a moment. "Unknown. The flight logs were erased upon his request."

Bill glanced at his technician, who manually located and examined the flight logs himself. He nodded at Bill, confirming ROB's answer.

The bulldog sighed in exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. His anger abated to disappointment and self-loathing. If that was the case, all of this had been for nothing—though at least they'd deprived Fox of his mothership and avoided a potentially-deadly military confrontation.

"I told you so," a woman's voice said from behind him.

Bill turned to find Dr. Makepeace standing in the bridge's doorway. The vixen marched past his men and stopped beside him. She splayed her hands on the control panel and looked out the window at the violet-blue planet looming below. "If McCloud and Number 28 were aboard this ship, 19 would have sensed them. Our targets have flown the coop."

The canine's fist clenched, but he holstered his smoking blaster. "It's far from a total loss. We have his dreadnought impounded. Fox no longer presents any credible threat to us without his prized ship."

"Believe me, Captain, this battleship was the least of our worries."

Bill decided to ignore her vague riddles. "Well, what would you have me do now?"

Marjorie's eyes kept scanning the brilliant horizon outside the bridge's window. "19 is our only lead on Fox and 28. We brought along prior geographical scans of the planet to determine their most likely hiding places: mountains, forests, cities—everything. Then we'll take the Justice down to lower planetary orbit and comb each one, sending out our observation drones and surveillance satellites. Anything they send back can be transmitted through the gate to Corneria for further analysis. In closer orbit, our Cerinian charge should be able to pick out 28's thought patterns from all the other Cerinians. We can use the Justice's cloaking and camouflage tech to stay hidden from potential enemies."

The canine pursed his lips. "And in the meantime? That could take weeks—months!"

Finally she turned to face him. "Have your technician scrub through all of the Great Fox's logs. Calculate where the ship was in orbit when Fox left. Check if he scanned any of the planet's surface for a suitable landing. See if you can track the location of his Arwing. The flight logs and other data might be erased, but a deep dive could expose much more."

Bill nodded curtly, then glanced at the techy to make sure he got the message.

Dr. Makepeace went back to looking out the window, and Bill followed her gaze to the beautiful rings and planet below. The woman's voice carried an air of defiant confidence.

"McCloud has nowhere else to run. He can't return to Lylat, and he can't leave Cerinia's surface without alerting us to his presence. It may take days or even weeks, but no matter where he hides, we will find him—and Cerinian 28."

ㅤ⦲ㅤ

With their course decided, Fox nosed the Arwing into the atmosphere, entering right above the slice of twilight caught between the opposing tides of day and night. Once they completed atmospheric entry, the fighter craft leveled out. Together the pair of foxes within flew towards the same destination Andross had visited—though Fox made sure to remain what he presumed to be a safe distance away.

During their descent, the ground was obscured by a thick layer of clouds; the two occupants couldn't make out what lay beneath. The surface remained a mystery until they broke through a few minutes later, but even then, the landscape was obscured in shadows, like a magician keeping his cloak pulled over the crux of his act until just the right moment.

The Arwing slowed to hover above a hill overlooking the expanse. Its landing gear extended before it settled atop the mound. With a hiss the canopy popped open, revealing Krystal sitting princess-style on Fox's lap.

"Sorry about having to carry you like that again," he apologized. "The Arwing wasn't intended to seat two."

The vixen carefully crawled out of the cockpit, shaking her head. "Mm-mm: it was fun," she giggled. "You were very comfy…"

Fox plopped to the ground first, bending his knees to cushion his fall. He reached back up for Krystal's hand, guiding her as she slid off the wing and catching her in his arms on the way down. She emitted a quiet grunt when he set her on the ground, before straightening and dusting herself off. Together, they stepped onto the short precipice to get a better look at the valley below. They peered into the shadows, feeling the curiosity and anticipation building in one another. But there was also… unease.

"Is this my home?" Krystal asked in a Venomian accent, eyes wide.

Fox shrugged. "I don't know; I was hoping you would tell me."

At that moment, the clouds began to brighten. They glowed with a silvery blue light until the layer above them parted, raining sunbeams down on the lands below. They illuminated all of the countryside, revealing—

The pair of foxes gasped.

There were modern buildings; rusted vehicles; barren parking lots; all of them eaten away by time and smashed to rubble. This was no paleolithic quarry or rock-strewn field they'd found; it was the remains of a city: a far-cry from most architecture he would've found in any Lylatian urban center, but a city nonetheless.

At least, it was…

Fox took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff and fell to his knees. His abrupt collapse sent a shower of gravel and pebbles over the brink. He was so taken aback by the utter destruction laying before him that he was at a loss for words.

"Fox, what's wrong? What kind of land is this? Where is everyone?"

He shook his head sullenly. "This was a city," he whispered. "Something must have destroyed it some time ago; there's barely a building or home left standing. The people that used to live here are long gone." He felt a tear slipping from his eye and wiped it away. The image of urban desolation before him brought back a painful well of memories—ones that were all too fresh in his mind; he'd seen many a similar sight in the aftermath of the war.

"I-I don't know what I expected. Perhaps I was hoping for untamed wilderness, or an old-fashioned rural society—heck, even a pristine metropolis like Corneria City. It just hurts seeing that, even outside the Lylat System, there's no planet that hasn't been touched by war." He looked up at her, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, Krystal. I guess I wanted a new home for myself as well… But regardless, this must be where you're from. Doesn't any of it look familiar?"

The vixen narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists, determinedly scanning the ruined buildings and desolate countryside for anything that seemed familiar. Fox breathlessly watched her face, hoping to see a sign of recognition on her brow, but he found only confusion written there.

It was just as strange and alien to her as it was to him.

ACT II: Cerinia, The Forbidden Planet

A few minutes later found Krystal sitting on the edge of the ship's wing, kicking her legs to-and-fro while anxiously scanning the mysterious skyline. Fox had bent over a large backpack, double-checking their supplies before setting out. His ear perked when he heard Krystal absently humming the lullaby tune again, but he did his best to focus on the task at hand.

"Let's see. Condensed food? Check. Laser blaster? Check. First aid kit? Check. Meds? Che—"

He caught himself; he'd forgotten his meds again! Ugh! Why did he keep doing this to himself? It'd been several days since his last dose, and he worried that he might suddenly become neurotic without them. Secluded at home that wouldn't be an issue, but now that he had someone like Krystal in his charge…

He pressed a palm to his brow. Strange: he didn't have a migraine yet.

"What's wrong?" Krystal asked. "You lose something?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "My medication. I've been having awful headaches and mood swings ever since I defeated Andross. The meds keep them at bay, but I forgot to bring them again."

"Aw, I'm sorry," she earnestly crooned. "I wish you'd tell me when your head hurt."

"Well, I would have, but it never hurt since you've been… with me… Huh." Fox looked up from the bag, wondering if he'd stumbled on some revelation. "At least, I haven't noticed it since passing through the gate, but I can't remember the last one I had…"

Realizing he'd get a migraine anyway just thinking about it, he went back to checking their supplies. "One long distance radio set…"

Out of curiosity, he turned it on and listened to the static. He laughed to himself, realizing how futile it was.

"What are you doing?" Krystal asked while cocking her head.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just testing out the high-powered radio. Remember what we used to talk to Peppy and Slippy? This works the same way. But it's also capable of picking up broadcasts from other sources too. It's just ridiculous to think it might receive something from Corneria. The gate's closed anyway, and even if it was open, it would only allow a small fraction of radio waves to get in through that tiny window. The only thing we're likely to hear is—"

Suddenly a female voice sang through the unit, but it only lasted an instant before Fox scanned past it.

Krystal's ears straightened. "Who was that?!"

Quickly he turned the dial back until the unit automatically locked in on the frequency. Sure enough, it was a woman's voice; she was singing a dance hit from over a decade ago. The electronic instruments were outdated, the beat was overly-sensual, and the singer's voice was light and airy in a rather campy way. Genuine, old, garbage.

And Fox adored every second of it.

"It's a classic hit from years ago. Used to hear it all the time in the car when my mom would drive me to daycare."

"Wow… so this woman has been singing it forever?"

Fox laughed. "Well, not that long." Fox picked up a loose, jagged rock. "Imagine the song is recorded in this rock, and I throw it to someone waaay down there." He lobbed the stone into the air, and it sailed into the valley below. "See, once someone down there catches it, they get to hear the message. But it doesn't reach there instantly. The stone can only travel so fast, so it spends a lot of time in the air. Now, this song was first broadcast a decade ago, but the planet we're on is so far away that it took ten years for it to arrive. In fact, we got there faster than the song did!"

"Ohh," Krystal nodded in understanding. "Is that why it's called rock and roll?"

Fox blinked. "Did… you just make a pun?"

"A pun?" Fox felt Krystal tickling his memories as she rifled through them, searching for the definition. She giggled. "Oh, I see. These puns are fun! But no, I heard Falco listening to a song before we left. He called it 'rock and roll.'"

"No, rock is just a genre—a type of music that sounds the same. The song we were listening to is pop."

At this revelation Krystal became noticeably worried. Suddenly unconfident in her Cornerian, she switched back to telepathy. 'But "rock" is the name of that thing you just threw, and 'pop' is what that bubbly water on your ship was called. Why do your words change so much?'

"Well, rather than inventing new words, it's easier to reuse old words in different ways. Trust me, it'll make sense once you hear more music."

'Okay, if you say so…'

A silence fell between them, and Fox used the pause to listen to the rest of the song. It was horribly garbled and hard to distinguish from all the interference, but it was still a nostalgic trip back to his childhood.

'It sounds very pretty,' Krystal thought. 'I want to learn it sometime…'

When the song ended and the next began, Fox's face lit up again; it was yet another of his favorite songs! Each line seemed to bring back a rush of memories of him and his mother driving through his Papetoon hometown…

The old adage was right; music was a powerful drug.

"…Alright, we have to get moving."

With a heavy heart, Fox switched the radio off and zipped it up into his pack. He swung the bag over his shoulder and stood up. Stepping over to the edge of the hill, he looked up at the faint ring system in the sky. "Bill should be itching to have my neck after we escaped him a second time. The Cornerians could show up any minute, but Cerinia's still a big planet. They may find the Arwing, but if we put enough distance between it and ourselves, we should be safe. Oh, and I'll take care of this so they don't track me…"

Fox slipped off his wrist unit and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. Given the built-in tracking feature, carrying it around with him was too much of a liability—especially if they inevitably found the Great Fox and Arwing.

Krystal slid off the wing and landed without any help this time. She looked to Fox for guidance but was surprised to see him waiting expectantly for her.

"What?"

He scratched behind his ear. "Um, I don't really know where we're going. I've never been here before, so I was hoping you could lead the way."

'Oh! But… I don't remember being here, either. If I was, I could only have been a few years old. And I'm sure it didn't look like… this.'

"Try concentrating on what you feel. Reach out with your mind."

Following his suggestion, Krystal bowed her head and closed her eyes. In her mind's eye, she was flying over the barren wasteland, scanning the shadows for any signs of life, feeling the harsh boundaries of rock and concrete as she searched.

Suddenly she gasped.

"There's something out there," she said, looking up. "I can't tell what it is, but it's alive."

Fox felt both relieved and worried at the same time.

"Well then, Krystal; lead the way…"