I underwent a series of inner emotional swings in the days following the discovery of my unfinished termination page—the different stages of grief, if you will.

I fluctuated between lengthy periods of confusion, disbelief, sadness, dismissal, and fear over my future should Fox finish his drafted letter for me. My inner dread became so severe that my old childhood habit of hugging my tail as I slept resurfaced again. Where would I go after I was terminated? Why would Fox take away what I believed to be my home? My family? Why would he discard me like this?

Emotions are powerful; they can persuade you to do almost anything if strong enough, and I was all too familiar with how irrationality is symptomatic to not keeping them under control. I had been through much worse in my past, and I tried to keep a level head during this tragedy like I had done before, but this felt much more personal. I never really had a home or people I called family, people who I could rely on and confide with. I was finally given something like that with this team, along with a potential relationship with the fox who had rescued me from certain doom, but he must not have felt the same way towards me.

After about a week of sitting on this revelation in silence, my sadness about losing what I gained here gradually evolved into resentment. I became more bitter inside and could barely look at my surroundings inside the Great Fox II. Perhaps this was my way of mentally detaching myself from everything so that my inevitable termination wouldn't hurt as bad.

I grew less interested in whatever activity the team decided to do in their spare time. I did my escorts and patrols dutifully, but I was finding little purpose in them. This may have been the reason Fox was planning to fire me; there were too many pilots in the hangar during peacetime. One or more of us needed to get made redundant, and I was his first choice.

I gradually grew to accept this as fact. Any amount of attraction I felt towards Fox McCloud was waning ever more and more as the week persisted. In hindsight, I really should have known better than to let my emotions get the better of me, but I was already grieving to a degree and wouldn't get a grip of myself. I wish I had relented these feelings before that one fateful day when my world changed again, and it had nothing to do with my termination, for it was the day when I slipped through the world between the worlds.

The day began like any other aboard the Great Fox II during peacetime. We hadn't received any contracts in a little while, but we had gotten used to lazy simulated day cycles. It was around lunchtime when I decided to emerge from my room after I had spent the morning reading.

Falco and Slippy were the only ones in the mess hall by the time I entered, but they were situated in a corner, locked in a competitive game on their portable video game consoles, hardly paying me much attention. Not being in the mood for conversation myself, I didn't come in seeking their conference. I was just looking to eat.

I was making myself a sandwich in the kitchen when Fox strolled by the counter behind me. My telepathy sometimes served as a pair of eyes on the back of my head, sensing him stroll by. He made a brief internal acknowledgement of me as he continued with his unhindered stride. He barely said hello to me anymore, or at least it didn't feel like he did, so I didn't feel compelled to greet him either.

I did meet with him at the table though, so I had at least still retained that much of my maturity in me then. I settled myself down on the edge of the table where I normally sat, which wasn't that far from where Fox normally sat just to the right of me. It was then he took his eyes off his tablet to see me and gave me a little smile.

"Hey, Krystal," he said. "I haven't seen you all morning. How's your reading spree coming along?"

"Productively," I said, returning a faint smile, though I remained intent on eating my lunch.

"That makes me happy," Fox said.

I just gave him another little smile as I continued eating, and likewise, Fox returned to his tablet, resuming our affairs amidst the noise and banter of the other two competing over their game. It wasn't much, but hearing him say that made my ear twitch. He sounded genuinely pleased by my statement, and my telepathy detected no contradictory thoughts from him either, which only added to my confusion about the whole situation. The warmth I would have otherwise felt when hearing him say something like that to me was greatly subdued by my current feelings for him, but that pesky hopeful flicker was still there.

I hated the idea of having bad blood between us, and Fox hadn't even technically fired me yet. Logical thinking was yelling at me to get my petty act together and talk to him about this, but my emotional thinking was speaking louder than my brain and opted that I stay silent. When your heart does most of the thinking, you're prone to making decisions based on poor judgment.

I spent most of the time staring at my plate while I ate, but I could sense Fox occasionally glancing at me, and his thoughts were a little disconcerted. My subconscious telepathy is more random and unfocused as opposed to the deliberate act of reading one's thoughts, so I couldn't make out the words Fox may have been thinking, but I could make out their context. It is difficult to explain for those who don't have this ability passively running in the background of their mind nearly all the time, but that is the best way I have come to rationalize it.

I was about halfway through my sandwich when I heard a few words pop into my head that weren't mine. "Is all well with you?"

Fox had initiated something through our private link, and I paused myself from eating after hearing it. I looked up to see him studying me with those lovely green eyes of his. His gaze was focused yet gentle, inviting me to say what was on my mind (literally).

I swallowed before answering back, "Of course. Do my actions say otherwise?" I think a portion of the bitterness I had been festering in me for a week had smoked itself into my response, and Fox seemed to have felt that as his brow knitted a bit.

"No. It's just that you're not usually this quiet."

"I'm just hungry," I dismissed. "Nothing to write me up for."

Fox's expression wavered slightly when I thought that. I was normally not this ornery with him either, which seemed to encourage him to lay off. Such a reaction was my initial intent, though not in good spirits.

"Okay," he relented, returning to his business on his tablet again.

It didn't take long for my guilt to steadily seep in. I wouldn't talk like that to anybody—let alone think it at them when they could hear me. This managed to prompt a moment of clarity in me as I exhaled through my nostrils regretfully. "I'm sorry…" I messaged Fox, which garnered a quick reply from him.

"Oh, no, you're fine," he insisted. "Is something up?"

My guarded complexion faltered slightly as I glanced at him. There was plenty "up" with me, but I wasn't confident that now was the time to pour out my woes—especially when he indirectly stirred them up in me. I only shook my head, but Fox continued to look at me analytically. Falco had mentioned some time ago that I was a hard read; I hoped that was true if it meant Fox wouldn't identify any visual cues that undermined my gesture.

"...Potentially," I soon admitted, looking down at my plate again.

Fox rested his free hand on his lap. "That 'potentially' sounds like it's got weight to it," he noted.

"You could say that," I replied, resting my forearms on the table while still holding my sandwich. Even though we didn't need to speak in order to talk, I still took a large breath like I was about to. Maybe I was going to play this smart after all. "I'm just… I want to know if…"

Interrupting my thoughts, the old intercom on the ceiling suddenly crackled to life, and ROB 64's metallic voice boomed through the staticky speaker. "ATTENTION. ALL PILOTS REPORT TO THE BRIDGE. URGENT MESSAGE FROM GENERAL PEPPER. MAKE HASTE."

Falco threw his portable gaming device onto one of the sofas and threw his winged arms up above his head in elation. "Finally! Ol' jabber jowls's got another crisis for us!" exclaimed before then taking off out of the room eagerly.

"Y-You have a twisted sense of purpose, you know that?" Slippy hollered as he traipsed behind him. Fox spared no time either and leapt over the table.

"Come on, let's move!" he beckoned me as he sprinted away around the corner, leaving me alone in the mess hall. I just sat where I was for another moment, astonished at how quickly my precious chance at reconciliation was just snatched away from me. Taking one pathetic look at my half-eaten sandwich, I just plopped it down on my plate indignantly and jogged on up to the bridge.

The transmission from General Pepper had just appeared across the communications monitor above the ship's main control console as I finally stepped up onto the bridge, rejoining my teammates at their sides.

The image of the old hound dog on the screen was somewhat startling, for he looked overtly ill. His eyes were bleary and had a faint yellow tinge, and his naturally saggy face somehow seemed saggier. Peppy had messaged us some time ago that the General had grown critically sick after having survived being assimilated by the Aparoids that invaded Corneria, becoming bedridden, and that he would be out of commission for some time. This was one of the main reasons why Peppy hadn't reached out to us in a while having assumed the General's duties in his absence.

Given his present state, I was impressed the General even had the strength to get his military uniform on for our transmission. Perhaps he was getting better already―I certainly hoped so for the sake of his health. "Star Fox here, General Pepper," Fox announced, standing erect with a sharp salute. "What do you have for us?"

"Ah, it is good to see you looking lively, Star Fox," General Pepper said, his humour sounding as dry as his voice. "I lament the same cannot be said about me. I have had better days, but I'm still fighting the good fight." He began to cough violently into his hand, nearly doubling over off-camera for a moment, which made the rest of us tense up.

"Uhm...you okay there, General?" Slippy spoke up nervously. A pair of disembodied arms helped prop the sickly General back upright, most likely a nurse or another attendant who was standing offscreen. Pepper straightened his uniform the best he could before addressing us again.

"Yes, I'm grand, Slippy Toad. I apologize for that moment of relapse. I'm still managing my ailments."

"Then perhaps you should still be resting, General," Fox advised. "Isn't it rather risky to be giving orders while you aren't in prime condition?"

"I agree with you on that, Fox, but this is a serious matter that I had to relay immediately—even if it means getting an earful from that snippy old hare of ours later…"

I sensed a small wave of reminiscence ripple between everybody on the bridge. We all knew how overbearing Peppy could be when it came to staying in bed when one was sick. He was caring in that way. General Pepper coughed once more before resuming his message.

"There is a worrisome situation happening near Venom, and it is ongoing," he said.

"Well, today must be a day that ends in 'Y', then," Falco interrupted, sounding the least bit surprised that the planet Venom was once again the epicentre of a projected crisis.

"Indeed," the general mutually agreed. "We received a distress call from a research vessel that was en route to the planet intending to conduct extensive research in its toxic oceans. Its mission is top secret and carried tons of cutting-edge technology on board meant to aid in the expedition."

Pictures of the research vessel began appearing on our screen along with a set of coordinates. "This was its last known location just before its signal went dark. I need you and your team to investigate, Fox. I would not be surprised if more followers of Andross had come out of hiding to bring more anguish to the Lylat System now that the Aparoids are vanquished," he said before unleashing a wheezy cough into his hand.

"You can count on us to snuff them out for good, General," Fox promised, making the feverish wrinkly hound smile.

"I know I can for anything, Star Fox. Always have," he said. "Now, you have the coordinates. Make haste. You will be paid handsomely regardless of what you discover."

"Thank you, General," Fox gave a nod before exchanging another salute with the general. "Take care, and rest up for goodness's sake."

"No need to tell me twice," General Pepper laughed, devolving into another violent cough before the video feed cut off.

Fox then promptly turned around to face us and charismatically clenched his fist. "All right, team, go and get suited up. We all need to be in our wings by the time we make the jump to Venom."

"Aye, aye, Foxie," Falco gestured, already well acquainted with the protocol as he began exiting the bridge for his room.

"Here we go again…" Slippy moaned with despair as he scuttled after Falco, leaving me alone with Fox and ROB.

"ROB," Fox addressed our robot navigator, "punch in the coordinates General Pepper gave us."

"AFFIRMATIVE," ROB replied and began manning the consoles.

Fox then turned to me, giving me a loaded look that seemed to say 'We'll talk later' before dashing off below deck, not saying one word as he left me in the dust.

I sighed to myself as I walked off the bridge to my room. I didn't want to believe it, but I worried that Fox would quickly forget about what I tried to initiate earlier before the General called.