Notes:
While I opted not to do this in later chapters, this particular one is written from Krystal's point of view. Hopefully this clears up any confusion.
Chapter 4: Revelations
I'm not really sure what happened. One moment we were on top of the Palace and the next we were in a small cove; the rainy weather of Krazoa Palace was replaced with warm night air. Either way I was frigid; my fur was soaked through with rain and the ceremonial dress I was wearing wasn't keeping any of it out.
My senses were still trying to process the danger we had been suddenly removed from, and as such my mind was picking up information that would have otherwise been hidden from me. For example, I was picking up thought patterns from the large statue in front of us, which I assumed to be the Warpstone; that and my new ally was in a moderate amount of pain.
"Fuckin' stomach…" he growled, nearly doubled over in front of me. I wasn't sure what to do. He had saved my life in the Palace and helped me escape the apparition that attacked me, but he didn't seem very thrilled to be here. There was also something deeply hidden in his thought patterns; a familiarity that seemed out of place considering we had met mere minutes before.
"Are you okay?" I knelt next to him, about to place my hand upon his shoulder; a sudden thought from him changed my mind. He was extremely uncomfortable with any sort of physical contact, and the wish that I wouldn't touch him was so intense that it was like it was being shouted through a horn. I really wasn't sure what to do. I didn't know where we were and I could sense the malevolent presence of Sharpclaw at the edges of my sensory range. I sorely missed my staff, yet the stranger trusted me enough to arm me with one of the blaster-like weapons he possessed.
"Give me a minute…" he hissed, eventually reaching a standing position. I could still tell he was in pain, especially once he staggered to a large, black pack that had been sitting a few feet away. He rifled through it for a moment, extracting a small bottle. He took a few pills from it; obviously some sort of medication.
"I don't know how to say this," I started, my abilities still focused on the presence of Sharpclaw in the area, "but we're still in danger. There are still Sharpclaw around." I was about to say more, but the statue entered the conversation. Its accent was similar to Cerinian, but not quite.
"Aye, they are… and they're wreaking some serious havoc around 'ere!" The Warpstone was a little agitated, which I could understand. We had several similar constructs on Cerinia; most of them ancient Guardians who had decided to stay on the mortal plane to help guide and teach future generations. That alone put a stab of pain through my heart. I hadn't seen my homeworld in nearly a full rotation, not after the attack on my city and the bitter memories that came with my exile. It had been said travelling through the stars alone would be lethal for a Cerinian; the total disconnection from other living minds would be far too much to take. It wasn't untrue. I wasn't sure how I survived, yet I was beyond grateful to have someone around. Even if that 'someone' was a strange Lylatian castaway with a crude manner and a gruff demeanor.
"When it rains, it fuckin' pours." My new ally retorted whilst shrugging off the weapon on his back; he exchanged it for another similar-looking weapon. That one looked very well-aged; I recognized signs of hard use over many rotations. I was curious to why he swapped weapons, but he had to have had a reason. "I swear to God, if they're fucking with my car I'm going to blow their heads off." I didn't know what he meant, but along with the pain I could feel anger well up inside him; a very dangerous combination. The first thing the elder Guardians taught us was that anger was a tool, yet it was a very unstable one. I would have to watch him; I didn't want someone who could very well be my only companion on this strange planet getting hurt or killed.
"If you're going out like that, I'm coming with you." I spoke up, standing up and looking right into his eyes. "You're in pain, and I don't want you making any mistakes." I had nowhere to store the weapon he gave me, so I hefted it in my hand. It was heavy for its size; quite unlike the few Lylatian blasters I had encountered. I had fired one once; Lylatian technology was extremely rare on Cerinia and as such even Guardians like me didn't have much experience with them. His weapon, however, looked like it operated completely differently. My ears were still slightly ringing from the noise they made. "What do we have to do?"
He stood up and started on his way, handling the weapon somewhat awkwardly. He was right; he wasn't a professional soldier. At the same time I recognized his determination; he also risked his safety to save my life. Anger or no, those weren't qualities I could simply ignore. "We have to figure out what they're here for. If they're investigating the ones I wasted before taking my little trip up there and helping you out, then I need to make sure they don't ransack my place. If they're here for something else, we're going to be the monkey in their wrench."
His speech confused me, but I managed the gist of what he was saying. It sounded vaguely like that old idiom; 'the torch in the Wraith's egg clutch.' However, a quick curious check of his surface thoughts seemed to infer that he knew exactly what was going on. I would question him about that later; keeping my abilities a secret would be the best course of action until I knew him somewhat better.
He walked around the living statue, which I could now tell stood in some sort of lagoon. It was surrounded with stone walls about four meters high, barring access except for a crumbled section near one of the rock walls, as if it had been caught up in a severe explosion. I caught the impression that it was my strange ally's doing.
I followed him past the blown-out hole in the wall, taking a first look at the valley which lay before us. In the starlight it looked peaceful; the meadows, trees, and creek which ran through it reminded me so much of home. There was even a large structure built into the rock walls at the end of the valley which looked like a temple; its aged stone façade looked much like the one I had trained in. I had become a Guardian to help others in need; if the one in need turned out to be on another planet I would fulfill my duty regardless of what the city Elders had tasked me with. I may have been sent to die, but I wasn't willing to accept my fate so easily.
The valley sported one strange anomaly; something which shouldn't have been there. A dwelling of some sort stood not a hundred meters from where we were. It looked wooden and a bit aged, but it was far too small for any Saurian to comfortably live in besides the Sharpclaw and Lightfoot. A wheeled vehicle sat out front; one which didn't look rugged enough to brave Sauria's unforgiving trails and landscape. It looked almost like a combination between a Lylatian hovercar and one of our wagons, but from its appearance it was likely self-powered. However, it didn't look like it was going to survive the aggression of the three Sharpclaw which were approaching it with clubs drawn.
"Oh, I am NOT seeing this!" My strange new ally growled; I felt his pain-fueled anger spark into outright rage. The vehicle and house likely belonged to him, but that was quite obvious by the way he raised the weapon to his shoulder. "Get some, you slimy motherfuckers!"
I can't describe the weapon as anything but loud. I winced as it went off, my ears experiencing a brief spike of pain as he fired. However, the Sharpclaw nearest the vehicle acted as if it had been hit with a bolt of lightning; it fell to the ground stone dead.
He operated it by working some sort of mechanical lever on top of the weapon. Another surface thought came to my mind; it was actually quite old and outdated by his standards, but it seemed to be working just fine.
The Sharpclaw stopped their assault on his vehicle, noticing us and deciding that the one who killed their friend was a greater threat than an unmoving piece of machinery. However they were nearly a hundred meters away and were already being attacked.
Two excruciatingly loud blaster shots later, the Sharpclaw were bodies in the grass and we were on the way towards the vehicle he had defended. "You don't fuck with a man's ride. That's against the rules." He didn't seem to be talking to me, but I got the impression that most of what he had said in the past thirty seconds were curses. I suppressed a sigh; he may be an ally, but he was fairly crude.
"I think you killed all of them." I responded as we reached the vehicle. I didn't sense any Sharpclaw in the area, so now was the time to figure out exactly was going on. "We're safe now, but I think you should answer some questions." The fact that I was following him like an orphaned Gulmar and didn't even know his name was a little scary. He helped me out of what may very well have been my death, but even that didn't fully drive my cautiousness away.
"Alright." A sigh echoed his lips as he leaned upon the side of the vehicle he had just saved. "What do you want to know?" This time I started delving a little into his thoughts. It was borderline illegal on Cerinia, but I had to know if he meant to harm me. I found out that he was genuinely interested in helping me, but at the same time he was dreading my questions. He had something to hide, but all I could really decipher was that he didn't want to hurt me; on some level he was actually afraid of me.
I tried to defuse the situation. "My name is Krystal. I come from a planet named Cerinia, far away from here. I'm here because my ship found a faint distress call. I'm a Guardian, which means that I'm bound by duty to help anyone in need so I came here to investigate." I kept my expression as neutral as possible, but my senses were telling everything I could find out about him. What surprised me was that he was not surprised by my introduction at all; it was like he had heard of me before. I couldn't help but feel suspicious, and he felt nervous after hearing my introduction. "May I ask who you are and why you're here?"
"My name's Adam. Adam Strayton." He responded; I could detect a nervous edge in his voice when even introducing himself. "I have no idea how I'm here or why I'm here. I woke up this morning and my entire damn house was transplanted right over there. All I know is that these Sharpclaw things tried to kill me, and I was trying to figure out where they were coming from."
He took a deep breath before continuing. That part of his story was true; his confusion at being here was showing through even more than his nervousness. "I happened upon that Warpstone, who mentioned something about some sort of attack. I figured it was my best chance of figuring out where I was and why I'm here. All I can tell is that this isn't my planet. I don't belong here, and I have no damn clue… I just don't know." His words expressed frustration and anger, which I tried to interpret.
I stood there for a moment, simply digesting his words and motives. Other than the nervousness and mental block he was being sincere. Yet, that nervousness and hesitation fueled my own hesitation as well. What secrets did his mind hold? Would they put me in danger? A Guardian had to trust those they helped, but would blind trust be the wisest decision I could make?
That was a risk I would have to take. He wasn't hostile, nor could I detect any sort of malice toward me whatsoever. In fact, the opposite seemed to be true; the faint sense of awe came from him. It was somewhat strange, but I could trust him at least to some extent. "So… your house simply appeared here overnight? You fell asleep and it was here when you woke up? That seems rather peculiar, Adam."
"Yeah, that's what I asked myself, too. I'm at a complete loss as to how it happened." I sensed the realization he had before he voiced it; a sudden stab of emotional pain so intense his mental blocks couldn't hide it. "Jesus Christ. I've lost everyone and nearly everything I've known. Family, friends… everyone." Anger soon welled up, which I didn't have to use my telepathy to detect; his voice wore it like a tunic. "I'm going to find the sick motherfucker who did this, and…"
"Please, try to stay calm." I interrupted. "I know you're hurting, but these are problems best taken on by your mind and not your weapon." I hesitated a moment, painful memories of my own threatening to overcome me. "I've lost nearly everyone I cared for and loved, too… I know your pain well." I hung my head down, but only for a moment; I had to keep strong. Until I met the fate which had been mandated to me, there was no alternative. A faint glimmer of hope started despite it all; perhaps I could avoid that fate altogether.
A sigh echoed from him. "Look. I'm not fishing for sympathy here. But, believe me… I'm going to unravel this mystery, find out who's responsible for all this bullshit, and get my ass back home where I belong." He paused for a moment, giving me a curious look. "I'm sorry if I'm being an ass about this, but I've got a lot on my mind."
"I can tell." I responded, which garnered a reaction far beyond what those simple words actually meant. He recoiled ever so slightly, and the fact his face flushed bright red was a dead giveaway. I would have bet all the silver in my family's vault that he somehow knew I had telepathic abilities. Yet, how? I didn't detect any telepathic or empathic abilities; latent or otherwise. His mental blocks were strong, but I could tell that they weren't augmented.
"Are you okay?" I asked again, concerned yet intrigued at the same time. He was a strange one, even taking into account he was an alien. He didn't look like any Lylatian I had heard of, except for possibly the Simian race. Yet his characteristics were completely different; the lack of fur except for a coarse patch on his head and a dusting on his face was unheard of. He looked slightly older than me as far as I could tell; his build slightly rotund yet possessing a hidden strength that couldn't be entirely concealed by what I assumed was a sedentary lifestyle. He wasn't physically ready for these enduring tasks, yet I had the feeling he could keep up when necessary. His Lylatian was peppered with a strange accent, yet vulgarity aside he was otherwise well spoken.
"Yeah. It's just been a long day." He responded. "Listen, before we get started I'm going to head inside. I want to change out of this combat gear and get into something a little less cumbersome, okay?" He paused for a moment, looking me over just as I had him. Something flashed before my eyes, a mental image so quick that I didn't get a good read on it before it was gone. "Also, I think you might appreciate a change of clothes, Krystal."
I could sense that my manner of dress was making him somewhat uncomfortable; was it a sense of modesty or something else? What I wore was typical Guardian dress for the hot, humid Cerinian summers, but I had left my other clothing behind inside my ship. Still, I was cold to the point of nearly shivering; my fur was still soaked through. I doubted he would take kindly to my urge to disrobe and shake the water out of my fur. "Would you perhaps have something I can dry off with?"
"The Warpstone told me that there's a lot of areas where the weather's complete shit. I've got some extra clothes in these drawers; you're welcome to take anything you like." Adam pointed his flashlight at the set of wooden drawers in his room. I cast a critical eye to him; what he wore looked like it would be a very loose fit for me. I doubted it would work, yet I would try to find something that would work. He had changed out of the multi-colored clothing he had worn earlier; replacing what I sensed was military garb with a pair of durable light-blue pants, a green shirt, and a black jacket made out of leather. "I'm going to see what I can salvage from the cellar; that should give you some privacy as well." He gave me a nod then walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I allowed a moment for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light. The fact his night vision was quite poor was also something I'd have to take into account; I could see fairly well in the dark confines of his house.
Rooting through his clothing proved to be a simple affair; surprisingly I had found sets of clothing that would be a far more suitable fit for me. I blushed as I noticed a different scent on them; it was quite faint yet unmistakably feminine. Were these his mate's clothes? After disrobing and drying off with the towels he had provided I settled into a pair of the same type of light-blue pants he had opted for and a black shirt of some sort; a strange, eye-shaped graphic and the legend 'Alice in Chains' was emblazoned upon it. It was quite comfortable after I had made the necessary alterations to fit my tail through the pants. I placed my armor back on; the spaulders, bracers, and greaves fitting neatly and snugly over my new clothes. Now more appropriately dressed, I decided to investigate the house.
What surprised me the most was how dark and silent it was. The place felt dead, almost; as if it had an actual viable spirit that had left whenever it was brought over to Sauria. I wasn't qualified to tell how advanced Adam's society was just by looking at all the dead devices littering the house. I was, however, convinced that it was significantly more advanced than Cerinia but significantly less advanced than Lylat.
One of the devices looked like a handheld computer. While the house had no power going to it, the device still possibly had battery power; at least that's what the few classes I had taken on Lylatian technology told me. I flipped it open, noting it had very few buttons; it was likely operated by touch. A stylized logo was emblazoned on it: 'Nintendo DS.' That was a strange name for a computer, but I wasn't one to judge. I pressed a button labeled 'Power' and the screen lit up. I grinned; perhaps I could gain some insight on his world.
After something about an 'ESRB notice' flashed up on the screen, I realized that it had loaded some sort of entertainment program. One of the screens proclaimed something about "StarFox Command," which sounded a bit familiar to me but I couldn't place it. The bottom panel flashed a message: "Touch to Start." It was operated by touch, which meant they had comparable technology to the Lylatian planets in at least a few areas. I pressed it.
The screen flashed again. The bottom one had some sort of game menu from what I could tell. The upper one attracted my attention, and not in a good way. Artwork of four figures standing in heroic poses filled my vision, and I gasped. They were Lylatian.
A blue avian stood to the far left, his arms crossed and an aloof expression on his features. He was wearing a standard flight communicator helmet, like the one I had in my ship. Something strange was going on. Something very strange was going on.
The figure next to him was a male vulpine; an attractive one at that. He wore about the same sort of gear, and he wore a determined expression. They had to be Lylatian pilots of some sort. However, my breath caught in my throat and I choked up as I saw the third figure.
I could instantly tell she was Cerinian. She was about my height, about my build, and wearing a pink flightsuit. A diadem with a sea-green gem adorned her forehead, and if I squinted I could see emerald eyes staring back at me… no. Was she… me? There had to be some kind of explanation for this. For all intents and purposes, Adam was an alien from a world neither Cerinia nor Lylat ever had contact with. Why in the Void would he possess an entertainment program featuring a Cerinian character?
The menu beckoned me, and I pressed the 'Single Player' option. Perhaps it told some sort of story; perhaps it would be a clue to the identity of the mysterious Cerinian. It took a few minutes of backing out of options, as I didn't want him to find out I had been using his device without permission. I finally happened upon the gallery section, and started the story.
I knew the story it told, yet only in passing. As it described the rise and fall of the Venom Empire, a pit of fear grew in my stomach. Should I even be reading this? An alien's entertainment program was describing the recent history of the Lylat War to me. This was impossible.
I now could put names to the faces of the figures on the main screen, except for the Cerinian. I had heard about them from the few Lylatian traders that made the dangerous and long journey to visit Cerinia; the famed Star Fox mercenary team who killed Andross Oikonny and ended the Lylat War.
Transfixed, I continued to read. Yet, something was seriously wrong. It started going into events which hadn't happened. Venom being home to a race called the Anglars, who rose up and attacked the rest of the Lylat System with brutal precision. What could such a force do to Cerinia? Yet the story started focusing on the personal life of Fox McCloud, the leader of the Star Fox team. In the story he was traveling alone, which surprised me. Falco Lombardi had left, and so had Peppy Hare, one to lead the Cornerian military, one to chase new thrills. Slippy Toad apparently had a fiancé in this strange new revelation of this system's history.
I read about Star Wolf, the criminally-minded rivals to Fox's team. I pressed the next arrow icon with passing interest, and stopped. For a solid minute I didn't move. I was stunned beyond words, and my jaw fell open. The Cerinian in the pink flight suit, the one who I thought looked like me… was me.
This could not be happening. This… game detailed my personal life! I was Fox McCloud's mate? How? Why? When? How was I supposed to feel, seeing my future right in front of me in plain text and illustration, as if my life were some sort of fictional tale for an alien's entertainment? I wasn't sure whether to cry or scream. My only impulse, like a traveler stopping to look at a burned-out forest, was to look more closely; to read on.
I started trembling. Fox would betray me. He would bar me from flying. He would have me sacrifice working with him as a pair of lifemates should, all because he was worried about my safety? I was confused; I was exiled with the full expectation that I would die to restore my honor. My beloved Jalner had died trying to save me; this entertainment program was stating I would be cast aside by a Lylatian war hero? I didn't know what to think. Was this real? Was this my fate? I needed answers. Now. The device still firmly grasped in my paw, I stalked off to find them.
