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Mission No. 33

Zoness
District 13

"Astray"

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As Kitt lead Falco through the North End to the mechanic shop, a thick smog rolled in, seeping between the desiccated buildings. Falco began to retch at the near-noxious fumes, but Kitt dug out an oxygen mask from his backpack, complete with a pair of mouth filters and goggles. When he wore it, he looked like some sort of overgrown insect to Falco; too large to step on, but still not tall enough to be sentient and welcomed as a friend.

"Sorry, a pretty awful cloud is drifting through now," Kitt's muffled voice came.

Falco stared with envy at his mask. "What? Do you just expect me to suffocate in these fumes?"

He scratched behind his head. "Heh-heh, sorry, but this is all I got. Besides, I doubt your beak would fit."

Falco rolled his eyes and covered his nostril holes with his sleeve, using the cloth as a makeshift filter again. "Fine, let's make this quick. Pietro's shop isn't too far from here."

"Well, it's Katt's shop now."

"…Interesting."

"Yeah, a lot has changed while you were gone, but I'll explain later."

Together they set out for the mechanic shop in search of Kitt's adopted sister. Back when the Free Birds were still together, Katt was their resident mechanic. She worked for old man Pietro in his repair shop, and out of Falco's youth gang, she had the most reputable job. She always helped out with repairing their bikes after a night of reckless driving—even the first beat-up space fighter Falco learned to fly in.

The walk to Pietro's shop was only a few blocks; but the closer they came, the more anxiety built in the pit of Falco's stomach. He hadn't seen Katt since the Zoness mission, and that run-in wasn't the most pleasant—even without meeting face-to-face. She'd essentially given him the cold shoulder and flirted with Fox over comms the whole time. The last time they'd met in person was over three years ago, before he abandoned Zoness and the Free Birds for Star Fox.

Katt had never forgiven him for leaving. Even though every bone in his body and every lick of sense he possessed told him to steer clear of her, he knew facing his past was the right thing to do. Though it'd probably end with her throwing a wrench or something at him…

After a few minutes, like a lighthouse cutting through the sickly smog, a neon sign materialled that read, "Pietro's Mechanic Shop," with most of the letters gone dark or shattered. Now the remaining glowing ones merely spelled, "Pietro's Mechanic Shop." It was crude and made for a good laugh, but Falco still welcomed the heartwarming neon letters that persistently beckoned him through the haze. After all, Pietro was a good friend; he let them hang out in his shop whenever they weren't terrorizing the streets.

When they reached the corner shop, it somehow looked worse than Falco expected. The lightweight cement building stood two stories high, with most of the front dedicated to a spacious garage. Rubble and broken machine parts sat in piles even taller than him, nearly blocking the triplet set of rusted garage doors. Altogether, the shop would've been condemned by any self-respecting board of health, but if they enforced their own rules, they'd have to condemn the rest of the city too.

The pair gingerly stepped over a carpet of rubble and ducked inside a half-raised (or half-lowered, depending on your outlook) garage-door. Inside the roomy interior were several hovercars and bikes in various states of dissection; one was currently hoisted up above Falco's head, creaking eerily like a piano waiting to fall. Shelves, racks, and carts occupied every available wall or empty space between the mechanical patients. Each was positively stuffed with tools, from blow-torches to assorted sizes of monkey-wrenches and screwdrivers.

Kitt stepped forward and cupped his paws to his mouth. "KAA-AATT!" his high-pitched voice echoed in the crowded garage. "Someone's here to see you!"

Then, for the first time in over a year, Falco heard Katt's sweet, gruff voice again. "They a customer?" her words drifted from deeper in the garage.

"No, it's—"

Falco urgently put his fingers to his lips, and Kitt took the hint. "I mean, uh, yeah, you could say that."

"Well, tell 'em I'll be there in a moment."

Rather than waiting, Kitt guided Falco through the rest of the garage. Eventually they came upon a mostly-assembled car—not a hovercar, but one with actual tires as was most common in the streets of 13. Loud, metallic clanking noises resounded from inside the machine, and underneath its belly sat a rolling car creeper. Most of the mobile panel and the person lying atop it were obscured beneath the vehicle, but Falco could make out a pair of work boots and jeans belonging to them—and a swishing, pink tail.

Kitt led Falco to the side of the car. The two exchanged glances again but didn't say anything. After a few more seconds, Falco cleared his throat. "Uh, hiya, Katt."

The tinkering noises abruptly ended with a loud CLANG. During the ensuing silence, Falco began to sweat buckets.

Finally Katt's work resumed, but at a slightly slower pace. "Kitt, ask him what he wants."

Kitt looked back and forth between them. Finally he settled on Falco. "Uh, she said to ask you what you want."

Falco rolled his eyes. "Tell her I just want to talk with—ah fuck it, I'm not playing this game. Katt, quit avoiding me and pretending like I'm not here. I just want to talk."

Katt's tinkering continued. "It's a free planet. Talk away."

While Falco deliberated his next words, Kitt ambled over to a workbench, cleared a space for himself, and hopped up to watch. His tail flicked attentively as he listened.

Falco scratched the back of his head. Instinctively he looked down at the floor, but realized that was exactly where Katt was and looked up again. What exactly was he going to say? He'd been meticulously running through practice conversations in his head on their way over, but now that he was finally here, they all seemed to escape him. Well, he certainly wasn't going to apologize for anything he did—he was damn sure of that. One of his rules in life was never to apologize.

"It's, uh, been a while…"

He trailed off, waiting for Katt to agree or something, but she never did. He coughed and added, "I've… missed you…"

"Oh?" Her disinterest couldn't have been clearer, even with everything but her legs hidden by the car.

"Yeah, I've thought about you from time to time. Q-quite a bit, actually." He nearly went on to say more, but realized Kitt was still there, watching with curious eyes from the table. He glared at him. "You got somethin' better to do?"

Kitt flinched and slipped off the work bench. He jogged away in a hurry; he knew his former leader couldn't afford anyone seeing him in such a humbled state.

Once the boy's footsteps died out, Katt spoke up. "So, as soon as the money from Star Fox dries up, you come crawling back to me?"

Well, at least she's talking to me, Falco thought. "Nooo, you've got me all wrong! Still have plenty o' dough left over from the Lylat War, it's just… I been telling people I don't have any so they don't beg me for handouts and expect me to pick up their checks 'n shit."

"And because you're too proud to admit you're broke. At least that's in character. Now come on, how much do you want so you'll go away?"

Falco rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'm a little short on dough—but I ain't here to borrow money. I'm on a mission; I need some, er… chemicals analyzed by Pukes."

"You don't need me to find her, so drop the cover act. Level with me; why are you here?"

"Uh…"

In truth, Falco didn't know himself. He hadn't quite figured that out yet. All he knew was that he had to see Katt. Well, maybe if he tried explaining it on the fly he could reason it out for himself as well.

He scuffed his boot. "I uh, wanted to check up on you. See how you were doing since… I left…"

"Well, I've managed just fine without you, thanks. Hell, even better without your insane hijinks. Now if you don't mind, I have some work to do."

Falco clenched his fists. "Hey, don't just blow me off like that. Is this how you treat old friends? I thought we had something together."

"I did too, but I guess not."

The metallic clanking resumed. Each blow banged against Falco's skull, seeming to bore a hole straight into his brain. It was just as infuriating as trying to talk to someone eating a peanut butter sandwich.

Growing frustrated, Falco stooped over and grabbed the bottom of Katt's creeper, yanking her out. She slid from beneath the car stomach-up, holding her tools and staring up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, trying to have a conversation here!"

"Well I told you, I'm busy."

Katt kicked his hand off the creeper and pulled herself back out of sight. A vein bulged on Falco's neck, but he restrained his anger. He yanked Katt back out, who crossed her arms indignantly.

"Do you mind?!"

"Listen to me, dammit!"

Ignoring him, Katt rolled herself back under. This time Falco set his boot firmly on the creeper and slid it out. Katt grabbed onto the car's footboard, but after a short back-and-forth struggle, Falco finally pulled too hard and the creeper slid right out from Katt's back. It barreled across the concrete floor and knocked over a stack of paint cans with a loud clatter. Katt meanwhile landed flat on her back, arms and legs splayed as she glowered up at him.

"Nice."

Embarrassed, Falco offered her his hand, but she ignored it and struggled to her feet without him. When she stood upright again, she leaned back against the car she'd been working on and crossed her arms, head tilted down. "Fine, talk away."

Falco was distracted by her appearance at first; he hadn't seen Katt in a while, but her fur was dyed just as garishly pink as ever. Maybe it was just the grease, but it looked a little faded: more pastel now than vibrant, like it had been some time since she'd last dyed it. She wore a bright yellow blouse covered in a green pair of overalls, altogether the same pallet as her usual attire, but intended for work in the garage instead of a night out carousing. Even underneath the dark patches of oil, faded dye, and irritated expression, he still thought she looked pretty.

After getting a good look at her, his anger abated for some reason. He glanced away and decided to stall longer. "Uh, you sure haven't changed a bit."

"Visually? No. But I'm a little wiser."

Damn. "So, where's old man Pietro? He up and about?"

"Pietro's dead, Falco."

The avian flinched. "What?"

Katt closed her eyes. "He died during the invasion. Hit by a Venomian shell while trying to escape out the back. With him gone, I took over the shop; he would've wanted me to have it. Always said I was like a daughter to him…"

Falco's mood plummeted, Pietro's death weighing on him. "Geez, that… that really sucks. He was an awesome dude for letting us meet here. I remember bringing our bikes home all banged up, but he didn't even bat an eye."

"He was a sleazy old fart, but he was nice," Katt agreed. "It was fun… while the team was still together." Her voice took on a darker, more vindictive tone. "When you flew the coop, the gang just fell apart. Stopped seeing each other. Stopped messing around. No one was there to lead us, so everyone went their separate ways. Then the invasion came and it was every man for himself. And after it all, I was left alone to pick up the pieces, caring for an adopted brother and this broken shop by myself. All because you. Up. And. Left."

Katt had her eyes jammed shut and was visibly trying to breathe in slow, measured breaths. She reached up to rub her eyes and turned away, hiding her face. She fiddled with some tools in her belt. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a business to run."

Falco was floored seeing her this way. He didn't realize she'd be hurt this much when he left. "Katt—"

"Leave," she stated.

He took a step towards her and lay a wing on her shoulder. "Katt, look, I didn't mean for things to turn out like this—!"

The feline whirled around, brandishing her wrench. "I said get out!"

Flinching, Falco stumbled a few steps back. Katt wound up her arm and flung the wrench at him, the avian ducking just in time. As she readied another tool, he dove over a stack of wooden crates, scattering them in all directions. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going!"

He bid a hasty retreat from the garage, stopping beneath the door to turn and pay her one last look. Katt had turned her back to him and leaned against the car, hunched over with her face buried in her arms.

With his shoulders slouching, Falco turned and stormed out of the garage. He kicked an empty tin can with a hollow clatter.

Why the fuck did he even try.

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Fox and Krystal continued their trek across the mysterious desert. Once they left the city far behind, it seemed like the glassy, white grains stretched on in every direction for as far as the eye could see; but Fox new their destination lay due east, and that it wouldn't be much longer before they reached it.

Now the dunes thinned out, disappearing like bunched ridges in a blanket till the desert lay flat and smooth.

"I don't like it here," Krystal confided in him. 'It's too open. There's nothing to hide behind; something might see us.'

"I know what you mean," Fox returned, trudging on. "I feel the same way. But at least there aren't any more of those creatures, or you would have sensed them, right?"

She didn't answer.

"Krystal?"

Fox realized the vixen was no longer by his side. Halting in his tracks, he turned and found her a dozen paces behind him, standing alone; framed against the pale horizon. The Cerinian's ears perked attentively as she looked over her shoulder at the now distant dunes. It appeared as if she were scouring them for… something.

Fox doubled back, coming up behind her. "…Krystal?"

She startled, twisting her head back to him. Her face was filled with unease.

"What is it? Did you sense something?"

She shook her head quickly, keeping her eyes low and walking past him. 'No, it's nothing.'

Fox lingered behind for a second, trying to catch a glimpse of anything she might have seen, but coming up empty. Perhaps it was just her paranoia at work, and she imagined any number of Cornerian drones, foot soldiers, and mechanized spiders chasing her.

Finally he turned and followed as well—but every few seconds, she couldn't conceal a worried glance over her shoulder.

Dust storms. Finally, something familiar in this world that defied all logic. He was used to chaotic maelstroms of sand on his home planet, Papetoon; but of course Cerinia had to be different, so the sand clouds were a mix of gray and white powder instead. Regardless, it wasn't so much the aesthetic as it was the sensation of the grains pelting his fur that felt familiar.

Fox showed Krystal how to cover her eyes and face with her flight suit sleeve, and they both stumbled forward through the storm. They huddled together as Fox covered them in his jacket, helping to shield their faces from the stinging sand.

'Couldn't we have flown your metal beast across this desert?' Krystal's thoughts drifted his way.

Fox would've spoken his response, but the wind would have swept his words away, replacing them with a mouthful of sand. 'We need to get as far away from it as we can, or the Cornerians might find us. Plus, any ground forces native to your planet would spot us as well.'

'This is awful! I can barely see you, much less where we're going!'

Fox glanced back at the vixen, who made for a pitiful sight clinging to him beneath his jacket. 'Well, at least the storm will erase our tracks. That'll make it harder for anyone to follow us.'

The dust storm finally settled down a little after midday, but particles continued to float in the air, obscuring the horizon. They'd finally reached the end of the desert; before them lay a flat body of water, shrouded in mist so that they couldn't see where it ended. The liquid had a peculiar rosy hue, almost like wine.

They paused on the edge of the shore, and Fox looked at Krystal. "So… can you swim?"

She blinked in response. "What?"

Fox sighed and shook his head. "Never mind…"

He crouched and removed his backpack, then rummaged through it till he located their environment analyzer. He held the fist-sized unit above the water and pressed a switch, which extended a thin metal strip. He dipped the sample strip into the water and held the device there for a few seconds. Eventually the analyzer emitted a short beep and allowed Fox to check the results.

"Well, it's water alright. Safe to drink, too. But that still doesn't solve the matter of crossing it."

Krystal's stomach growled and she lay a paw over it. "Hey Fox, can we eat now?"

He looked up at the noon sky. "Yeah, I guess it's about lunchtime. Now that the storm's over, we won't get sand in our food, either."

Together they set up camp on the shore. Fox rolled out a blanket from their pack and set out the food he'd brought, but Krystal grimaced when she bit into the space rations.

'Oh, this is awful. It's so bitter!'

Fox chuckled nervously. "Sorry about that, but I wanted to pack lightly. This food has the highest nutrition ratio to volume."

'Still, it's so gross…'

"But it's healthy! There's an old saying that goes, 'if it tastes good, it's bad for you.'"

'Well that's just stupid. Why make healthy food taste bad but unhealthy food taste good?'

Fox frowned and cast his eyes down to his space rations. "It's more complicated than that…" he mumbled.

Krystal rolled her eyes. 'You don't have to pretend you know why when you clearly don't.'

The todd inwardly fumed. To cover his annoyance, he reached into the pack and pulled out another food item. "Here, I packed you a nature bar for dessert; I know you like them."

Krystal caught the bar after he tossed it, eyes lighting up. "Ssank you!"

Fox grinned as she tore into the bar, wolfing down the mix of nuts, chocolate, and sugar glaze. Watching the skinny vixen so ravenously eating was a relieving sight, when just a couple days ago she could hardly stomach more than a few mouthfuls. If she kept up at this rate, she'd return to a healthy weight in a few weeks.

Nibbling on his own food, Fox turned his gaze to look out over the water. "Now we just need to figure out how to cross…" His ears straightened when he heard Krystal giggle. "What's so funny?" he asked, looking back.

"Your face!" she laughed. "It's covered in white!"

Brow furrowing, Fox bent over to check his reflection in the pink water. Sure enough, the rippling todd staring back up at him was caked in white sand. He sat back up and gave Krystal a smug smile. "You know, you look pretty silly yourself!"

"Oh!" Krystal mimicked Fox and leaned over the water to study her own reflection. "Does it come off?" she asked worriedly.

"Nope. More and more of it cakes up over time till you can no longer see your face!" he teased.

"Oh stop that!" Krystal laughed back.

"Yeah, it should wash right off." Fox removed his fingerless gloves and rolled up his sleeves, splashing water on his wrists and fingers; they'd gathered quite the amount of sand while shielding his face. Next he cupped water in his hands and splashed it on his face. His chapped skin rejoiced as the liquid rejuvenated it.

"Wow, this sand gets everywhere," Krystal said aloud while Fox wiped his face with his shirt hem. He heard splashes beside him as Krystal began to rid herself of the sand as well. When he finished drying, he scooted back up the shore and parked on the picnic cloth. Absently he watched the vixen clean the sand from her face while setting his mind to the current obstacle in front of them: the lake.

If the individual Krystal heard was on the other side of the water, they'd have to cross eventually. Maybe he could summon his Arwing from afar, but that would alert the Cornerians trailing him, and they'd just follow it straight to him. Perhaps they could walk around the water, if it was only just a lake—but they couldn't tell for sure; it might turn out to be a river or even an entire ocean between them. Maybe if they waited for the fog to clear…

Suddenly the fur on Fox's arms stood on end, and his skin tingled. He heard what sounded like faint whispers, but they seemed to come from every direction at once.

"Krystal, is that you again?"

'What? I didn't say anything.'

"That's funny; I swear I heard voices in my head. And it almost felt like you were reading my thoughts again."

'I don't sense anyone else around, but something seems… different; like everything's muffled.'

Was it the fog? Fox thought to himself.

'Wait, I see something out there; over the water! A strange light…'

"What!?"

Krystal pointed out over the pink water. "There! Can you see?"

Sure enough, Fox spotted the light shining through the fog, almost like a lantern. "I don't trust it; it might not be safe."

'But I recognize its thought-speech; that's what I've been hearing since the city!'

Fox ground his teeth, torn by their predicament. On one hand, the light shrouded in mist could be anything—perhaps even an enemy. On the other, they'd walked all this way to find it, being the only sign so far of an intelligent creature on the planet.

The light made the decision for him; it began to shrink back into the mist, threatening to disappear.

"W-wait!"

Fox hurriedly rolled up the cloth and stashed their supplies back in his bag. Timidly he waded into the water, expecting the bank to drop off to a deeper level at any second… but it never did.

"It's shallow…" he realized. "I think there might be a land bridge that crosses the lake. Come on, before it disappears!"

The two vulpines hurried after the beacon, which threatened to vanish at any moment into the fog. They had to solely rely on its guidance, as the rosy mist obscured everything around them, and one misstep to the right or left could result in a plunge down the drop-off.

Krystal was frightened by the murky water, not having had the best experience with it; anything could be lurking beneath the surface. She was still getting used to the denser liquid, and how difficult it was to find purchase on the sandy floor—but Fox noticed her plight and grabbed her hand tightly.

"Hold onto me and keep your eyes forward! Anywhere I walk first is safe."

For several minutes they awkwardly trudged through the water, sloshing with each step. Fox was forced to put his faith in the glowing figure, trusting that it wouldn't lead them astray.

Eventually they were rewarded with the other side of the lake. The fog shrouding the water dispersed when it came in contact with the shore, allowing for a much clearer view of what lay behind. The upward-slanting shore was covered in a dense forest made from the most beautiful trees Fox had ever seen; their feathery branches wore shawls of purple blossoms that dazzled the eye. In fact, the entire forest looked painted violet because of it, and fallen, dried leaves covered the ground in a mahogany carpet.

The glowing phantom they pursued raced up onto the shore. It took a well-worn path into the forest, but it paused between the trunks.

Fox and Krystal slid to a stop before stepping onto the dry bank. Why has it halted? he thought.

Now that the light was out of the mist, Fox could see it more clearly. From its size and stature, the relative shape of the head, and its triangular ears, Fox realized it was vulpine, just like him. However, the creature had an ethereal presence; light danced across its fur, making it almost too bright to look at. They had to shield their eyes, but the Fox stubbornly peered over his arm at the other vulpine.

Fear and awe seized his heart; the person turned their head to look at Fox, making eye contact him. By their facial features, they were… female. Her face was difficult to make out beneath the halo of light, but the longer Fox stared the more he recognized her.

Eventually he lowered his arm and stepped onto the shore, letting go of Krystal's hand.

"No… you can't be her…"

Fox felt an immense wave of hope coursing through his veins, urging him on. He couldn't control the emotional high he felt; it was just too powerful. It overwhelmed him, urging his legs to sprint and bring him forward. Fox was entirely focused on her warm, loving face, blocking out all other stimuli. So entranced was he that he couldn't hear Krystal's thoughts screaming at him to wait…

"Mom, you really are here!"

Then, as if in a dream, Fox's progress started to slow. His legs were weighed down like lead, and his arms struggled to move. It felt like thick, ghostly webs clung to him, impeding his progress. He was almost floating in place, suspended between the trees only halfway to the angelic vixen.

'Fox, stop! She's not real! Her thoughts are just echoes—'

Before Fox's eyes, the glowing vixen flickered out, her light no longer illuminating the forest. Naught but her afterimage remained in his eyes.

Leaves on the ground rustled; branches snapped. One-by-one, a group of ominous figures appeared from behind the tree trunks. They wore dark-colored cloaks indistinguishable from the tree bark, and they covered their faces with hoods and veils. Their paws were bare, but they carried wooden walking sticks. They were the first sentient beings Fox had seen on the planet, but meeting them in a situation like this was the last thing he wanted; not while his feet seemed welded to the ground.

Instinctively, the merc reached for his blaster and drew it, but the hooded figures took notice. Without explanation his hand was seized by a wave of painful cramps until his fingers nearly bent backwards, dropping the gun.

In seconds the assailants surrounded him; one of the hooded figures produced a rope from the folds of their cloak.

"Nīe, lassuru karre ghen!" Krystal screamed behind him.

Fox tried in vain to listen to Krystal's thoughts, but a dark mist seemed to keep their minds apart. Twisting his head back, he looked over his shoulder. "Run, Krystal!" he shouted.

But rather than leave, the vixen charged onto the shore to save him. Two of their attackers grabbed her arms from either side and struggled to hold her still. The vixen snarled and fought with them, threatening to break free. Eventually she stopped moving, but she wasn't done fighting yet; she closed her eyes, and without even raising a hand, one of the attacker's heads snapped back. The figure fell to the ground, their cloak billowing around them.

Fox inwardly cheered for her, but their moment of victory was short-lived. A third opponent stepped up to Krystal and placed a paw on her head. Krystal struggled for a moment, but tremors began to wrack her body. She grit her teeth together and growled, but it turned into more of a whimper by the end of it. Her eyes rolled up and back into her head, until Fox could only see the whites. His jaw dropped when the girl's entire frame fell limp in their arms.

"Krystal!" he desperately called. He tried even harder to break himself free of the invisible strands holding him, but it was no use. "What did you do to her!?" he snarled, twisting between the hooded assailants surrounding him.

The figure that had incapacitated Krystal now turned around to approach Fox. Once they were right up in his muzzle, he was able to make out certain facial features. Beneath the hood and veil, Fox saw dark azure fur, long lashes, and glowing, blue eyes.

"You're… you're Cerinian!"

The vulpine braced himself, realizing he was probably going to experience the same fate as Krystal. Mentally he prepared for whatever psychic torture might assault his brain.

"Alright then; do your worst…"

But when the Cerinian stopped in front of him, they simply raised a wooden staff… and brought it crashing unceremoniously down on his skull.