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Mission No. 50

Cerinia
CSS Justice

"The Anomie"

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In a supply closet aboard the Justice, Bill and Fay perched atop stacks of crates across from each other, lost in thought. Dr. Makepeace leaned against the back wall, while Cerinian 19 sat on the floor, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. Her tail swished back and forth while she glanced between them, waiting expectantly. Elsewhere in the room the ROB units they'd confiscated from the Great Fox stood like toy soldiers, now decommissioned and safe. The four of them had sought out the supply closet to be as far away from the bridge (and Ariki) as possible, using the solitude to brainstorm a plan without being eavesdropped on.

"Taking him back to Lylat is out of the question," Bill mumbled. He sat with his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his muzzle. "Best case scenario he'd find some remote place to live as a hermit. He seems to hate people enough, and he's socially inept. Worst case… he tries to take over Corneria, resulting in thousands of deaths before the military decides to glass wherever he is and be done with him. Either way, I'd never be able to face Pepper again after I let a spoiled brat like that get the best of me." He sighed, rubbing his head. "God, Fox never had to deal with anything like this during the Lylat Wars…"

Fay held her face in her paws, fighting back tears. Swiftly however, the emotion turned to rage. She punched her fist into an open palm, staring through the floor panels as she undoubtedly imagined the horrible things she'd do to Ariki. "We can't let him live—not after what he did to Miyu and the others. I'd love to make his death as slow and as painful as possible."

"That's out of the question," Makepeace said. "While we are all in agreement Ariki must be killed, he must die as swiftly as we can manage; we can't give him any time to react."

19 yawned, covering her stretching mouth with a paw. Her eyelids seemed to droop, and the dim light in the closet didn't help her stay awake.

"Guess none of us are getting any shut-eye tonight, huh?" Fay commented, smirking at 19.

"The devil doesn't sleep," Bill dryly responded. "We can't afford to, either."

After a few minutes of wracking their brains in silence, Fay ventured, "What about poison?"

Bill cracked his knuckles absently, staring at the bulkhead. "Difficult task when he can read our minds. Besides, he's too paranoid to eat anything we give him."

Fay wrung her paws together. "What did he even eat all these years? It looked like there's hardly anything down there…" After thinking for a moment, her eyebrows raised, and her voice climbed in pitch. "You don't think he resorted to—?!"

"Wouldn't put it past him," Bill smirked. "Certainly isn't much an average person could do to gather food after society broke down and the surface of the planet transformed into a wasteland." But the train of thought brought back some of Hime and Ariki's words from earlier that day. He looked over at Makepeace.

"Doctor, there's something that's been eating away at me today—besides our hijacker. Ariki and his mate said something about us causing the apocalypse. Is that… true?"

Makepeace frowned. "I fail to see how that is of any relevance at the moment."

Bill quickly dug for an excuse. "It might help us understand why he hates us so much."

The doctor pursed her lips, taking a moment to answer. "Corneria did not… directly cause what happened to this planet. While Dr. Andross was allowed on the project, he showed no signs of psychosis until it was too late. He acted without the proper authority, and without alerting any of our superiors. What happened on Cerinia was his responsibility alone." Unconsciously as she spoke, the vixen wrung her hands and seemed to be staring somewhere far away.

"Then why do the Cerinians think we caused it?"

Makepeace shook her head dismissively. "Ariki and his partner probably heard rumors. Sensational news travels fast, but it is also easily distorted. I'm sure the complete truth was buried under the rest of the ash and rubble. Without knowing the full story, survivors are bound to jump to hasty conclusions in place of facts."

Her answers did little to satisfy the captain. Bill had hoped she would completely exonerate Corneria of any wrongdoing, but it wasn't the straightforward acquittal he was looking for. He did his best to push the thought aside, but it kept nagging at him in a quiet voice from the corner of his mind.

For the moment they returned to brainstorming in silence. Bill played out different scenarios in his head, each one wilder, more complicated, and more desperate than the last to the point of fantasy. But no matter what he came up with, there was no easy way out. Some way or another, he was bound to lose more men in the process, and the clock was ticking fast. If he didn't come up with something, time would make the decision for him…

Growing agitated, he glanced at 19. The sight of her usually managed to calm him down; he'd come a long way from viewing her as a cold-blooded killer. There was something reassuring about seeing her so confident in him, trusting that he'd take care of her no matter what happened. At the moment she was scratching her claw on the steel floor, making increasingly-complex circle patterns.

Bill looked over at Makepeace, an idea beginning to take hold. "Are 19's powers truly gone? Or are they just dormant?"

The vixen straightened her glasses, catching on. "We worked tirelessly to reawaken them after her encounter with 28, but no luck. Whatever happened between the two of them caused 19 to lock her abilities deep within herself, reversing years of progress. You are suggesting we could reawaken her powers and have her face Ariki?"

19 raised her head at the sound of her number, looking back and forth between them curiously.

"It may be our only chance. I don't think he knows about 19 yet, and if he does he wouldn't know about her powers; after all, everyone else on the ship knows she's harmless now. Or at least thinks she's harmless. If one of us distracted Ariki, 19 could remotely kill him in the same way he killed our men—it could be as easy as crushing his skull."

Makepeace bit her lip. "You could certainly try, but we've had no success so far."

Bill slid off the crate and knelt on the floor beside the Cerinian. "Then let's test her powers again; maybe we can bring them back together. She's… rather trusting of me, so maybe if I'm here to encourage her, the result might be different. Can you explain to her what we're doing?"

Makepeace pushed off the wall and crouched by 19, taking her hand. She spoke at length in Venomian, and 19 answered shortly.

"She says she doesn't think she can, but she'll try if it's to help us. We'll start by giving her a large dose of crystal lysergic acid." She pulled her medical bag over from its resting place by the wall and removed a brownish-orange bottle of pills. She tapped four onto her palm before tipping them into 19's paw.

Fay slid off her stack of boxes, looking at the Cerinian with slight trepidation. "I'll, uh, get her some water…"

She hurried off into the corridor, but by the time she'd vanished 19 had already swallowed the pills. From how fast she downed them without even a drink, Bill judged she was well-accustomed to the act. Yet the grimace on her face said repetition didn't make it any more pleasant.

They gathered around 19 in a huddle, eager to watch the experiment. Bill drew the tactical knife he'd retrieved from his room and set it on the floor in front of her.

"Here. Just see if you can lift this with your mind."

19 set her gaze intently on the hilt. She frowned and furrowed her brow in concentration. The two spectators glanced back and forth between the purple vixen and the knife: Makepeace with doubt, but Bill with tentative hope. Knowing she had an audience, and that this was crucial to the survival of her friends, 19 threw herself at the task.

From Bill's end it looked like she was simply staring at the object on the floor, but he knew inside her mind she was struggling with such a herculean trial. Soon he noticed outward signs of her mental battle: her breathing increased, her forehead clenched, and sweat glistened down the tips of her fur. It felt like agonizing torture just watching her.

A distant look crept over the girl's face—as if she were transported far away—and she lost focus on the knife. Shadows of haunting memories played across her widening eyes. She no longer trembled from mental effort, but from fear. And in that moment, Bill understood. 28 hadn't taken her powers; 19 had suppressed them herself. She realized the horror she'd inflicted on Bill's men and was scared of ever repeating it. She was scared of what she really was:

A monster.

19 buried her face in her hands, sniffing back tears. She apologized in Venomian, her voice fragile and close to breaking. Even if she could lift it, she was scared of what might happen if she did.

…Then, the weapon shook.

Bill and Makepeace shared a gasp, sucking in their breaths as they stared at the knife in wonder. Slowly it lifted off the floor to hover between them, rotating till the dagger end pointed in the opposite direction. It floated through the air… only for the point to stop directly against 19's throat.

The vixen looked down at the knife, swallowing. She scrambled backwards till she met the wall, but the knife pressed against her neck the entire time, refusing to budge.

"Kei-kei-kei, what do we have here?"

While Makepeace backed out of the light, Bill spun to see Ariki standing in the doorway—with Fay right beside him. He had the spaniel hunched over with her arms bound with seemingly nothing behind her back. Her mouth was stuffed full of a waded-up paper cup she'd retrieved for water, gagging her. She looked at Bill apologetically, and he guessed what must have happened.

"I'm surprised to see you have another Cerinian aboard!" Ariki broadcast, speaking to 19 in Cerinian at the same time. "Forgive the knife my dear; it's merely a precaution. But one wrong move…"

"Ariki, don't!" Bill pleaded. "She's not like you: she has no powers! She couldn't hurt a fly!"

The Cerinian raised a brow. "Oh?" He searched Bill's thoughts with invasive, clumsy fingers, and the canine grimaced.

Ariki burst out laughing. "So she doesn't have telekinesis anymore, but you three were still trying to convince her to kill me, is that it? You naughty Cornerians! I can't leave you unsupervised for less than five minutes or you'll begin plotting behind my back. I'll have to babysit you like younglings from now on, but for now it would seem a punishment is in order…"

He snapped his fingers, and Fay's eyes suddenly widened. The cup disappeared into her throat, prompting her to erupt in a fit of hacking coughs.

"Fay!"

Ariki released her, and she fell to the floor, gagging. Bill started to rush to her aid, but the Cerinian revealed a perfect sphere of water floating over his palm. "I believe you wanted this water, Captain…"

Before Bill could react, the orb of water flew over to him and settled over his mouth and muzzle, cutting off his air supply. Instinctively he inhaled, only to cough the water back up from his lungs. As he spluttered and tried not to repeat the mistake, he frantically tried swatting the water away and blowing it from his mouth—but it stubbornly stayed put. While Fay sprawled choking on the floor, Bill was spluttering and drowning on dry land—and 19 was powerless to save either of them.

Ariki placed his hands on his hips and snickered at Bill. "Come on, I know you're the kind that secretly enjoys punishment. Doesn't this send you back to when your precious father used to discipline you? Well, just like your cold and distant dad, you've disappointed me, too. Sorry I don't have a belt like daddy used to…"

"Bill!" She rushed to help, but Ariki kept the knife pressed against her throat with his mind. He stepped between them, cleaning his knuckles on his sleeve and studying them absently.

"Well then, what's a girl like you doing with these foreigners when you could be riding first class with me? Don't you know these people kidnapped you? They're merely using you as a tool. You're nothing to them. Nothing. But to me, you could be very special. I know of the past that was robbed from you, but your future belongs with me. Why stay cowering here with your enemies when you could ally with me?"

As Bill began to lose the fight for oxygen, and the edges of his vision dimmed, Makepeace finally reemerged from the shadows. Ignoring Ariki, she stepped up to Bill and pressed her mouth against his without hesitation. While the bulldog's eyes widened, Makepeace breathed a stream of her own air in through the water covering his muzzle, then sucked the water straight from his lips. Bill fell to the floor beside Fay, coughing up the rest and gasping—but he forced himself to wrap his arms around Fay and shove a fist into her stomach, pressing in several times till she coughed up the waded paper cup.

Ariki jumped when he saw Makepeace. "Egad, there's another one! Where are you hiding all these Cerinian women?!" He switched the knife from 19's throat to hers, then studied the doctor more closely. "I must say though, your fur is… oddly-colored. Is it a dye job?"

The vixen turned to him, wiping her mouth with a sleeve of her lab coat. "I am a Lylatian vulpine. You would do well not to imply falsities of a woman's natural coat."

The Cerinian smirked. "Interesting…" He paused for a few seconds, during which time Bill could only assume he was reading her mind, yet Makepeace didn't even flinch. "No powers, either." He let the knife clatter to the floor. "Your species must have escaped the Curse. But your existence in… 'Lylat' begs the question: did your race descend from ours, or did we Cerinians descend from yours?"

Makepeace nodded. "A worthy question for a research project, but we aren't likely to find the answers now."

"Mmm, yes. Not after the holocaust. Well, good luck with your research, Doctor. But I'll have to ask your… 'test subject' to come with me. What is her name?"

Finally Bill rose to his feet, exchanging glances with Makepeace. The doctor coughed. "Well, we call her 19, but—"

Ariki snorted. "19? Really? You mean in the future you got so uncreative you began numbering your children? What's next, naming them after your species? My gods though, nineteen sibling kits… hasn't your population growth plateaued yet?"

"We never knew her name. We rescued her from someone else."

The male Cerinian held out his hand to the frightened vixen. "Well, come on 19. Perhaps I'll call you my Hime from now on; for that is what you'll be. When we get to Lylat you will be my bride: my queen. No more experiments, no more wild chases, no more post-apocalyptic wastelands. And best of all, no more pesky aliens!"

He took her hand and pulled 19 along, but Bill stepped between them. "Ariki, please, she doesn't deserve this. If it's a hostage you want, I'll go back with you to the bridge—"

But the Cerinian laughed. "You really think you want the best for her, don't you? That after all this is said and done, she might end up in your care so you can make things right for her? All in the better world you're imagining. Well I have news for you, Bill. You are part of the problem. You will always be her captor. You will always be different. But I—"He let go of 19's hand and grasped the collar around her neck. With minimal effort he snapped it open and worked it free, dropping the binder to the floor. "I am her equal. I will raise her up from your chains and crown her as my queen."

19's eyes widened and she reached for the collar, only to discover it had vanished from around her neck. She began to gasp for breath, as if freedom was stifling.

"I'm quite lucky to have found a girl like her. She'll be even better than Hime! Without any powers she can't hurt me; nor does she possess Hime's same fiery spirit which so often scorched me. I think we'll get along nicely. You'll never betray me, will you?"

He tightened his grip firmly around 19's hand again, pulling her out of the closet. She looked back with pleading eyes at Bill, but couldn't do anything else to stop Ariki.

Bill ran to the doorframe to watch them go, but he was just as powerless. "Don't worry 19, you'll be okay," he assured her. "I won't let him take you away."

Ariki looked over his shoulder. "Uh, was that a threat?"

Bill stopped in his tracks, closing his mouth.

"I know all about your little plot to poison me—and every other idea you entertained for even a second. It will interest you to know I've taken up fasting; food doesn't agree with me when there's poison about, and besides, I get airsick. But I'll be sure to wine and dine 19 on your ship's finest cuisine. Glad I sought you out! From now on I'll regularly be scanning your minds to make sure you don't plan any more mischief. Someone might get hurt…"

He cackled at his own joke and guided 19 away, disappearing down the corridor in the direction of the bridge.

Clenching his teeth, Bill returned with Makepeace and Fay back to the storage closet. He beat his head several times against the wall, then remained there, leaning.

Fay struggled to her feet, rubbing her neck gingerly. "God I want to stuff that pretentious cape down his throat!" she growled.

Bill stood with his forehead pressed against the bulkhead, wallowing in hopelessness. Any idea he came up with he immediately shot down, knowing Ariki would read his mind the next time they met, and that would be the end of it.

Fay glanced sideways. "Well Doctor, got any more ideas?"

When Makepeace replied it was in a painfully-flat and drawn-out voice; as if she were broadcasting over a microphone. "I must remind you, Lieutenant Spaniel, that anything we plot together will inevitably be revealed by our enemy. Taking that into account, we must not speak about such matters together."

Bill looked over at her, surprised to find Makepeace had been directly staring at him the entire time. Her green eyes burned with a mischievous fire.

What sort of tricks must you have up your sleeve…?

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Fox grit his teeth, jabbing left and right at his opponent. His cloth-wrapped fists struck home with hollow thuds against a training dummy. It was a creature of his own design, though he recruited Kaia and several other Cerinians to help him construct it. The dummy stood slightly taller than himself: a simple cross of thick bamboo shoots for the spine and shoulders, and bags of sand gathered from the river bank for the head and torso.

The storm had passed that morning, but the sky remained cloudy and the air cool, making the weather perfect for training. Kaia stood not too far away, observing his progress and occasionally shouting out when the dummy left an opening or tried an imaginary attack. Depending on the case, Fox would parry, dodge, or seize the chance to strike a powerful blow in a way he didn't feel comfortable using against his flesh-and-blood tutor.

For some reason he was angry; fury powered his fists, making his blows land harder and more erratically than usual. He tried imagining the dummy as different enemies: rogue Cerinians who threatened the village, always turning out to look more monstrous and hideous than he knew Cerinians to be; Cornerian soldiers hunting Krystal down, though never Bill specifically; even the ghostly shadows of Venomians who continued to torment Krystal in her memories. If only beating them away from her were so simple…

"Good afternoon, Fox."

With one final blow, Fox struck the sandbag head clear off the rest of the body, flinging granules across the lawn. Face flushing with blood, he turned to see Mother Namah standing at the other end of the yard. Hurriedly he scooped the sandbag off the ground and tried to fix the head back atop the dummy's shoulders, embarrassed that the Cerinian matron had witnessed his aggression boil over.

Namah walked purposefully along the rear of the blacksmith's shop, pausing to return Kaia's bow.

"Mother Namah, it is an honor," the wine-furred vixen stated.

"Kaia." When she rose she explained, "I'd like to have a word alone with Fox, please."

"Yes ma'am." Kaia nodded, glancing at Fox as if to say, Looks like you're in trouble! before disappearing around the side of the shop. Namah continued on until she stood before him.

"Is there… something you wanted to see me about?" he asked. It was only now that she stood closer that he could see lines of worry etched in her face.

"Fox, were you in the village when the storm hit this morning?"

"No, I was just leaving Itoro's."

"Do you remember hearing thunder? Even just a single peal."

Fox scratched his chin. "I think I did, but only once. Now that you mention it, I didn't see any flash of lightning either, or I might have turned right around and stayed home. Why?"

"It wasn't lightning," she said flatly. "It was Krystal. She's getting worse."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "Worse?"

Namah gestured to a pair of seats behind the blacksmith shop, having Fox sit down with her. The matron leaned in closer to him, keeping her voice low as if Krystal or someone else might overhear.

"Please, it's imperative that you tell me all you have learned about her. While I have some familiarity with Corneria's project, I've had no news since they cut themselves off from us."

The todd shrugged. "Well, there's not much more I can tell than I've already told you before, but maybe a small detail will stick out to you more than it would to me. Like I said, I found Krystal in one of Andross's laboratories before I came here. There seemed to be space for many other Cerinians in there, but all of them were gone except her."

Namah pursed her lips. "Do you know of his ultimate purpose for her?"

"No, I just knew they wanted to use her and the other Cerinians as weapons. Now the Cornerians seem to want Krystal for the same reason—more than they want any other… Cerinian…"

Fox trailed off, eyes suddenly widening in realization. "Wait a minute—the Bolse satellites!"

Namah's ears perked at the word.

"Krystal showed me a memory she had from when she was a child," Fox explained. "Andross was trying to use her to power one of the cores!"

Startling him, Namah reached over and grabbed his knee, fingers digging into his shendyt. "Well, did he?! Did Andross use Krystal to power a satellite?!"

Fox shook his head. "No, h-he was going to, but my mom took her place; she insisted she be used instead. That was when Bolse Y melted down, and Andross flew Mom here."

Namah sighed slowly, but her serious expression didn't lighten much. "So Krystal was the young girl Vixy adored. I remember her, but never made the connection to Krystal. Your mother was always worried about that girl, Fox; wondering if she was okay. She… worried about you, too. Being separated from you both was hard on her; the anxiety and frustration it caused was part of what made her lose control. If only… if only she could have seen you two, all these years later…"

Fox's heart ached, barely able to imagine the pain his mother must have gone through. But his mind started working in overtime, beginning to put together the pieces of the mystery.

"So that's the answer," he mused. "Andross built a whole series of Bolse satellites while he was still alive, constantly working to perfect them. Corneria kept secret the experimental energy source he used to power them, but… I guess I know now. That's why he wanted the Cerinians so bad; he wanted them for the cores of his satellites."

Namah picked at her lips thoughtfully, going quiet for a moment. Finally she withdrew and sighed, looking grave.

"Then perhaps you've confirmed my worst fears. Fox, that girl is one of the most powerful Cerinians I have ever come across—certainly of those that have survived to this day. She might not display it outwardly, but I sense within her the potential to move mountains. If Andross was priming her to power the Bolse series, her strength could be limitless—potentially catastrophic."

He swallowed. "You mean… Krystal could turn out like my mom?"

She nodded gravely. "After Andross experimented on her, he ferried Vixy here. We accepted her as one of our own, and she helped build the village, yet… she struggled to contain herself. She managed to, for a while—but it couldn't last. You know of what happened to her."

Fox felt the blood drain from his face; the awful tragedy that befell his mother now had a strong chance of happening to Krystal as well.

"Namah, there's… there's got to be a way to stop that from happening. Aren't you helping her fight it?!"

"I've tried my best for the past month, but… there's a good chance I won't be able to rein-in her powers. If that becomes the case, I will have no other choice but to exile her to protect the rest of the village."

Fox felt his temper rise. "What? You can't be serious. So you'd just give up on her like that? You'd cast her back out into the wastelands, after she came so far looking for a home?"

Namah's face darkened. "Don't you dare imply I don't care for that girl! I cherish Krystal as much as anyone else in the village; I see exactly why you love her so much. It shatters my heart just thinking about this possibility, but unfortunately, as the matron of Altaira Valley, I have to make difficult sacrifices. If it's between her or the entirety of the village, I'd have to choose the other thousands of Cerinians living here."

"But-but Krystal can't possibly be that much of a threat! That's ridiculous—she'd never hurt anyone!"

"No, perhaps not by choice. She has the heart of an angel, but if she can't suppress her powers it will be of no consequence. At the outbreak of the Anomie, completely normal people—many of whom I knew and loved—lapsed in their self-control, which resulted in the deaths of millions. Each and every one of us wrestles with inner demons, Fox—no matter how much we seem to have them under control on the outside."

Fox still couldn't bring himself to believe it; he remained glaring at her with a defiant expression.

Namah sighed. "I see you remain skeptical. Then allow me to show you what I myself have witnessed."

Before he could object, Namah closed her eyes and overlapped minds with him—much in the same way Krystal did.

He found himself standing inside a bakery, not too unlike ones found on Corneria or Papetoon a century prior. The advertisements on the walls and colorfully-decorated confectioneries all blurred together, as if Namah could no longer remember what they looked like. Everything in the shop seemed normal at first, but by the time Namah took Fox out onto the street, the atmosphere seemed… eerie. The bright sun poured over the buildings, washing away their color and leaving the city a pale white. For a metropolitan street, everything was too quiet.

Then the screams rose above the sound of horns blaring, and all hell broke loose. What followed next was an unorganized frenzy of violent images that even Namah seemed eager to avoid. She jumped between them quickly, for she already relived them every night while trying to sleep.

Out on the sidewalk, multi-colored Cerinians dressed in modern clothes pointed towards the sky. It was so bright, but Namah shielded their eyes with a paw as they looked up. The silhouetted buildings that stood black against the blinding sky loomed over them, but they were… moving; tipping over. Namah turned to run as a momentous thunder shook the street. Brakes squealed and cars crashed, but the Cerinian was too busy stumbling away from the collapsing buildings to pay them any mind. A cloud of debris engulfed the street like a wave, blotting out the pale sun. Screams sounded from somewhere above her, growing louder and louder until they ended in wet smacks against the pavement. Fox felt sick to his stomach as Namah tripped over their crumpled remains, but they were obscured by the dual smog of the collapse and Namah's own forgetting.

Elsewhere across the city climbed pillars of fire accompanied by tremendous explosions. As she made her way through the rubble, Namah was lucky to avoid cars, dumpsters, and chunks of buildings hurled across the thoroughfare. The confusion shared by the Cerinians on the street was as palpable as the fog. Was it an earthquake? An invasion?

They came across another woman in the smog, seated beside an alley and covered in blood. Namah stooped to offer her a hand up, but she made no move to accept it. Trembling, and with eyes as wide as dinner plates, she scooted backwards into the side of a building.

"Get… get away from me!" she screamed.

A shadow fell over both of them, and Namah looked up to see a building pass above their heads. Something had torn it straight from the ground, with leaking pipes and wires showering sparks swinging precariously beneath it like veins from a severed limb. Both women ducked and covered their heads, but only handfuls of plaster and cement rained down on their backs. When they looked up the building continued to sail effortlessly down the street, its shadow disappearing into the smoke.

Namah offered her hand to the woman again, but she flinched and cowered more, placing her paws over her temples and screaming. Fox was surprised when the next instant he found Namah flung across the street, her body denting the roof of a small Cerinian tram.

Groaning, she rolled off the vehicle, sprawling onto the road on her hands and knees. She threw up on the street, and Fox wanted nothing more than to do the same—yet the nightmare only worsened.

Beneath her palms, the hardened mixture of stone began to glow white hot. It melted away in the shape of her paws, turning to molten liquid. Frightened, Namah shot to her feet and threw herself back against the tram, only to find her hands had melted straight through the window and side door. She examined her paws in disbelief, crying out when they burst into flames in front of her face.

She set off down the street, hoping to escape the city, all the while holding her hands far away from the rest of her body—and anyone else that she passed—as if they were diseased.

Involuntarily, Fox was seized by a wave of his own memories. He found himself plunged back a year ago to the initial attack on Corneria City, and the chaos and destruction and death it brought. He felt his heart begin to pump dangerously fast as his insides begged to empty the contents of his stomach for better flight. Sharp daggers of ice pricked from the inside of his chest, stabbing him mercilessly whenever he dared breathe. While the attack on Corneria marked Star Fox's triumphant entry into the war, the images of carnage he witnessed were no cause for celebration.

Only… here they weren't ships buzzing through the air. It wasn't spacecraft strafing the streets with hellfire; it wasn't bombers dropping explosive ordinance onto buildings; it wasn't hulking mechs toppling over towers.

It was ordinary people just like him.

Just like Krystal.

Fox blinked his eyes back open to the lush Cerinian valley, the sounds of chaos and destruction replaced by the songs of innocent wildlife. The present silence was so serene it drowned out the last echoes of screams.

Namah sat across from him with a grave face. The air above her open paw wavered and distorted from intense heat—but it quickly cooled.

"I think I've made my point."

"How… how did all of that happen?" he asked in disbelief.

Namah looked down at the head of the training dummy, which had not stayed put on its shoulders for long. "While researching my people for Corneria's project, Andross discovered certain evolutionary traits that were not present in Lylat's species. The psychic organs in our brains were more developed, and this interested him greatly. He became obsessed with the telepathic potential of my race.

"While Cerinians initially volunteered to be examined, Andross took his experiments too far, apparently kidnapping orphaned children, or getting them from… other means. He wanted to see if he could awaken the abilities of an entire race, and what society might look like if he did. Andross… put something into our water supply. It accelerated our psychic development by thousands, perhaps millions of years. He didn't care about the possible consequences. We developed telepathy and other abilities. Some awoke sooner than others, confounding our world leaders. Then, like a chain reaction to the trauma, the majority awoke on a mass scale over a few days. And… well, suffice it to say, you witnessed the rest."

Fox's tail drooped. "Then, there's no other way?"

Namah dipped her head. "If Krystal's condition worsens, I'm afraid I'll have to ask her to leave the village. I'm sorry, Fox. Maybe she will learn how to control herself after all, and all of this worrying of mine will be for nothing."

"I… understand." The todd clenched his fists. "What can I do to help her?"

Namah pursed her lips, letting the silence draw on before she answered.

"Krystal has been sneaking out to see you, hasn't she?"

At once the blood ran to Fox's face. He prayed the abbess couldn't see his cheeks turning red beneath his fur, nor that she was reading his mind. It was the same spotlight he found himself under whenever Peppy or his father asked him about Fara.

"She… has met with me a few times."

The matron continued to scrutinize him with her piercing sapphire eyes, and Fox started to sweat.

"Will she bear a child?"

He forced a laugh. "What the hell are you talking about?" he bluffed.

"Fox… I know. Krystal asked me about it earlier—not outright, but it was enough to reveal your relationship. You're mated now, aren't you?"

At first he looked down in shame, staring at the grass between their feet—but then he realized, what did he have to be ashamed of? He sat back up, facing her down and setting his jaw firmly.

"Yes, we are."

The vixen sighed shakily, as if she'd feared the worst.

"Then please, please do not conceive with her. Even if she wants a child, she is not ready for one, and the challenges of being a mother would only double the stress she is under."

He snorted. "We come from different worlds—different star systems. What makes you think a Cerinian like her and a Lylatian fox like me could have children?"

Namah's only response was a poorly-hidden smirk as she stared at him.

"Regardless, are you willing to take that risk? If she were to bear a child in this unstable state, she may have to abandon it—just as Vixy had to abandon you, for your own safety. Would you wish that pain on another child? You know what it feels like better than anyone else."

Fox looked down again, knowing what she meant. "Neither of us were really thinking about that right now. We're just trying to work out our own problems first. You have my word I won't, um… get her pregnant—but if you're asking me to stop seeing her, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Fox, Krystal's powers release under intense pressure. When mishandled, love and intimacy are significant stressors—ones that could cause her to burst under the right conditions. The closer you get to her, the easier it will be to hurt her. You know that, don't you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Please, I don't need you adding to my self-doubt. I'm not going to hurt her. Krystal needs someone else, and I have the strongest connection with her out of anyone."

Namah struggled to hide a scowl. "True. Krystal is in a very vulnerable state of mind right now; she is an impressionable young girl with a fixation on pleasing others, and I suspect she will be willing to do anything for you if it makes you stay with her. She is in great need of companionship and security after the horrors she endured. Because of that, she is desperate for someone—anyone—to love her. Are you sure you aren't being opportunistic with that need of hers? Are you sure you aren't taking advantage of her vulnerability?"

"I… I…"

Fox tried to speak several times, but each time he started, he faltered. Namah had skillfully hit at his own insecurities and self-doubt when it came to their relationship, and even he wasn't convinced it was the healthiest.

"You're… right," he admitted. "She is terribly hurt. She's lonely. She's starved of love and comfort. She's never had anyone like me before to give her those things, and I admit I love being the one to help her—perhaps selfishly so. But…" Finally he managed to meet her eyes again. "Even if I'm the only one who can give her that love, I can't shy away from it. I can't shirk that responsibility. Things turned out this way, whether I wanted them to or not. All I know is, if I don't love Krystal… who else will?"

Namah seemed moved by his words. It looked like she was waiting to respond with another argument, but the more he spoke earnestly, the more her responses died in her throat.

"Yes, Fox; things turned out this way, whether we wanted them to or not," she finally agreed. "My worry is, one day you might have to say goodbye—and when that day comes, the more time you spent loving her, the more painful it will be for her to leave. You should stop this before it goes further; before it's too late to turn back."

"Irrelevant. I never plan on saying goodbye."

"Fox, a day may come when I have to send Krystal away to protect the village. If I exiled her… what would you do?"

"I'd go with her, of course. What else would I do?"

Her face betrayed none of her intent. "You have a home here in the village, and new friends. I admit I was quite wrong about you, and the rest of my people are learning to accept you as well. You would always have a place to stay: a future, here with us."

How ironic, he thought, that he would be allowed to stay while Krystal might be turned away.

He shook his head vigorously. "I've come this far with her; I'm not about to abandon her now."

"I'm only thinking of your safety, Fox. I owe you for the help your mother gave us when we built this village. If Krystal's condition worsens, and you continue to stay by her side, there's a very real chance she may unintentionally kill you. You're just a Lylatian; your physical training with Kaia means nothing against a psychic."

Fox shrugged. "Then that's just a chance I'll have to take. I gave up everything to find my mom and return Krystal to her home. She's all I have left—and she's all I have left of her. If Altaira doesn't work out, we'll just move on and keep looking for another home. I… I can't stand the thought of Krystal being alone again. "

"Then for everyone's sake, I pray this moment never comes." Namah's expression suddenly softened as she looked at him. "Sometimes, Fox, I find your blind stubbornness admirable, even if it may be your undoing."

He smirked. "Thanks, I guess—but it hasn't done me wrong yet." Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "But one thing keeps bugging me. How do you know so much about Andross and my mother? How do you know about the Cerinia project and the Bolse satellites? How can you speak Cornerian—even without borrowing my brain?"

The elder sighed. "I suppose an explanation is in order, isn't it?"

Namah took a moment to roll up her sleeve and bare the upper portion of her right forearm.

"Does this explain everything?"

Curious, Fox looked down at her exposed arm. There, in the midst of her dark blue fur, he saw the faded strokes of a white tattoo written in Cornerian:

#03