SUBJECT:

Krystal

Female, age 20

PLANET OF ORIGIN:

Cerinia

SPECIES:

Fox

OCCUPATION:

Fighter Pilot

TRAINING:

Cornerian Flight Academy

ARWING CLASS:

"Cloud Runner V1" prototype

POSITION:

Mercenary

AFFILIATION:

Star Fox Team

HIRING ELIGIBILITY:

Review pending

If there is one thing that I have learned during my life, it's that whenever fate turns against you, you either adapt or die.

I have been living by that motto for as long as I can remember, and not much has changed in the future, especially now that I am an adult. However, no matter how misfortunate I believe my luck can be, the cruel irony of my life is that I am the luckiest Cerinian in the universe for the very fact that I am alive. My name is Krystal, and I am a vixen from the planet Cerinia; a planet that more than likely no longer exists. I am all that remains of my home and my people―save for one treasured heirloom, that is.

Life had never been unchallenging for me; I had gone to countless places, encountered many perils, and met many people―both out of a need to find traces of my race or simply for company. This past year, however, my life took a profound turn once I joined team Star Fox; the highly-credited team of space-faring mercenaries. It had been one of the most exciting years of my life, both for the thrills and dangers I encountered while working alongside them, though there came a point where the good times looked like they would not last. Of course, that was all before my incident.

The tale that I will recount here is one that changed me in so many ways, and I know it will also certainly change the Lylat System forever once I muster the strength and the courage to reveal what I have seen to Lylat's leaders. They will need this information if we are to survive what's coming. Without hope, without information, there can be no revolution. Until then, however, my words here will suffice to preserve what I have seen and experienced. This will be my record of when I was an unwitting witness to revelations unprecedented in my universe, all taking place in a world that was scourged by a series of unforeseen consequences.

Peacetime made business slow, but it was a nice refreshing change of pace.

It had been several months since the Aparoids' assault on the entire Lylat System, and to say that things had been dreadfully quiet would be putting it mildly. The Aparoid swarms had scourged every planet to some degree, and none were left without tremendous collateral damage―as well as an unbearable loss of life. It would take a long time for Lylat to recover, and I hoped that it would be without hindrance. We were in no shape for another system-wide crisis―not for quite a long while.

Although the silence throughout space was a reassuring phenomenon generally for most Ethereum-faring vessels, it was the shipping industry that appeared to suffer the most during this period of desolate respite. Piracy was a greater issue now throughout Lylat than it had been in years now that most of the defence grids around busy shipping lanes had been desecrated by the Aparoids. Pitiful pirates were emboldened now more than ever to pillage the giant freighters carrying supplies around the wounded Lylat System. And while these freighters didn't pay as highly as those of our most lucrative clients, such as General Pepper coming to mind, work was work, and team Star Fox had little to do during these days of recovery. All the same; it was good to help people, no matter how few credits they paid.

Falco and I were called to escort a hefty merchant ship called the Galloping Goldfish as it travelled through a vital pass through a dense asteroid cluster in the region between Corneria and Titania. They were both currently in transit with each other at this point in their orbital cycles; ships like the Goldfish were taking advantage of the window of time they had to make quick trips to both planets while they could. Unfortunately, pirates were taking full advantage of this also and were preying on ships that weren't part of an armed convoy like our current clients. This made easy money for credible mercenaries like ourselves.

The fields of debris created by the collision of these two asteroids made navigation tricky and made effective blind spots for pirates to hide in. A handful of pirates did attempt to circumvent the freighter but were easily chased away by me and Falco. While not as strong when face-to-face, I was able to sense the thoughts of some of these ruffians, and most bolted out of sight when catching the faintest glimpse of our crimson logo brandished across the hulls of our Arwings. Our name had become even more feared and respected ever since the Aparoid invasion ended, and I had hoped that any space-faring scallywag would have the better sense not to cross us going forward.

Aside from the firm ushering of these troublemakers, the Goldfish endured otherwise smooth sailing through the debris field, and Titania, though always within view, was now metres below our hauls as we glided across the faintest edges of the planet's dense atmosphere. I began to drift alongside the bridge of the Goldfish—as close as maritime laws prohibited me—once I saw the small but powerful riggers rising to meet the freighter and hook her up with their guiding fields.

"All right, Captain, the riggers are in view. They will be hooking up to you any moment now," I reassured our client, Captain Capricorn, through our coms. I could see him marching over to one of the viewing windows on the floor of the deck, which he had to shove a few of his spacers out of the way to see, much to their annoyance.

"Ah yes, yes! And not a moment too soon!" he yipped in excitement, which was so loud he managed to disrupt my headset's receivers. He was a terrier, and folks like him have a natural tendency to speak louder than is appropriate. "Oh, I cannot thank you enough, Star Fox. We could not have made this delivery without your escort. You sure showed those scoundrels what for."

"It was a pleasure, Captain," I replied mannerly, trying to discreetly rub my injured ear outside the gaze of our friendly but deafening client. "We will disembark once we make sure you and your crew are safely within airspace."

"Superb!" the captain barked again, which almost felt like a needle poking my poor eardrum. "It would not be airspace without air of some kind, yes?"

"...Yes, of course," I chuckled lightly at his little joke—if that was even the right word. In no time after that, the two riggers had fastened their generated two fields around the Goldfish and began to coordinate their steady descent into Titania's atmosphere. "Farewell, Star Fox. Your well-earned credits have been transferred. I simultaneously hope that we will, and never need your services again!"

"Likewise," I replied, as we both exchanged a little salute to each other.

No sooner did the Goldfish begin to vanish into the dense clouds below us, Falco and myself withdrew from the premises, and began our fleeting return to the "new" Great Fox as Titania steadily grew more distant as we flew deeper into the vacuum of space.

"Gee whiz, I'm so glad I crawled out of bed for that…" Falco uttered bitterly on our private channel. He had been mostly quiet while escorting the Goldfish, and it looked like it was time for him to complain now that we were out of range of our client's vessel.

"I don't know. I enjoy an easy escort," I replied, hoping to convince my avian friend that this mission was worth his time. But "easy" had never settled well for Falco, and I doubted it ever would—especially these days.

"Perhaps I would have liked it better if we didn't get a purse pooch as a client," Falco grizzled. "Is your ear bleeding yet?"

"Not quite yet. No," I answered, still trying to soothe the ache on the right side of my head.

"If that guy had raised his pitch a decibel higher, I think that would be grounds for charging extra," he declared, which made me laugh a little. As our conversation continued, we both drifted our Arwings a little closer to each other. "It's a shame that those losers in the speeders didn't put up any fight, " he said. "What kind of pirate isn't armed while commandeering a pretty average cargo ship?"

"I believe that they were armed, Falco," I said, "we just scared them off by our mere presence."

"Yeah, you'd likely know," Falco conceded. "Still, I haven't fired my cannons in a while. It would have been nice to have made an example out of at least one of them."

"Falco Lombardi," I scolded a little, "not every assignment should be a shooting gallery. Those spacers shouldn't have to witness such fatal combat when simply doing their job."

"Or, we could have given a boat of blue-collar workers a great show," Falco retorted, who was now cruising close enough to me so that I was able to see him. "It's all about perspective, missy."

His stubbornness was able to fluster me a tad, so I didn't bother answering for his annoyingly plausible counterargument. Surprisingly, perhaps because Fox wasn't here, Falco relented himself and began to point out a couple of things he did enjoy about this mission. "Even still," he said, "at least I was able to get a chance to see your new wings strutting her stuff. I think you're starting to make me jealous over here."

I perked up a little bit as I watched him eye my craft from his cockpit with intrigue. While Falco was flying the same model of Arwing we had flown during the Aparoid invasion, I was currently test-flying a prototype for a new Arwing class that I had a personal hand in designing—at least aesthetically. I designed it to resemble the flying pterosaurs of Sauria, which subsequently earned this model the classification of the "Cloud Runner Class" by Space Dynamics. It was not too obvious when its wings were retracted on the ground, but once unfolded, the resemblance was striking enough to make me homesick. This type of Arwing was intended to be especially manoeuvrable with a formidable arsenal at its disposal, and I couldn't think of a better creature to base its design off of.

"Hmm. Yes, she's a comfy little cruiser. I could get used to flying in this thing," I said contently, moving around in my spacious setup quite easily. In addition to a more motioned-based user interface which uncannily replicated the leads I would often use when riding CloudRunners on Sauria, I also had a space for two passengers positioned just behind my seat. I had always envisioned a scenario where I would have to potentially rescue someone or lift them to emergency services quickly and opted to incorporate this into my craft. Yes, it was a little cramped back there and was situated at a slightly awkward angle adjacent to the cockpit, but that's why I was trialing it. If nothing at all, it made a handy place to stash souvenirs. It was a matter of finding some first.

"Well, I'd say it suits you just fine," Falco complimented. "I suppose it can't compare to flying the real thing on Sauria."

"No. It cannot," I said. "I'm convinced that I have the legs that I do thanks to countless hours squeezing my inner thighs against their bodies trying to stay on. CloudRunners are a noble and majestic race, but relentless fliers that love to spiral."

"Oh, I bet," Falco said, followed by a small moment of silence. "...But was it any fun?"

I looked over at him in his cockpit, seeing him staring back at me inquisitively. I smiled. If one can 'overhear' things involuntarily, then a telepath like myself can often "overthink" involuntarily when it comes to reading minds. I have occasionally overthought Falco having long ponderous thoughts about my happenings when flying on the backs of Cloud Runners. He often dreamt of what it might have been like to fly with them but never seemed to find the nerve to ask me until now for some reason. It was only natural that an avian-like himself would be curious about how a dinosaur would fly compared to him, and also because of his daredevil nature. I thought I would indulge him in it.

"Yes. When they were reminded that I was riding them, of course," I answered with a shrug. "Things have been rather slow during these peaceful days; maybe we could visit Sauria sometime and I could show you the ropes?"

Falco always had an intense gaze, and that seemed to double some upon hearing my proposal. "You kid?" he asked.

"I never kid. Except when I do. Which isn't at this moment," I said, leaning back into my seat, still holding his gaze. The glare from the sun refracted off the glass of our cockpits as turned our trajectories, fully clearing the debris field as Falco chuffed to himself, though he did not voice it on our com channel.

"Hmm. You've never been an easy read, Krystal, but I think I might have caught a little twinkle of a thrill-ridder in you just now. Or maybe that was just the sun? Beats me."

"All the same," I said. "Why don't we see if everybody else would like a little getaway once we get back? Fox and I have great favours with the monarchs of Sauria; we could easily acquire the grandest rooms to stay in during our visit."

"All right, all right. Knock it off before I end up humouring you," Falco dismissed rather straightforwardly, but I didn't need telepathy to hear the desire he had in his controlled voice. I laid the topic to rest until further notice, but I couldn't but feel enthralled by the idea of all of us taking a little holiday on Sauria. The Aparoid invasion was difficult for all of us, and Sauria was a beautiful world with a rich and vibrant culture. Perhaps this was a little selfish of me, but the thought of me and Fox finding a moment alone in a little hidden water hole made butterflies flutter in my chest. With the war over, maybe now we had a chance to come a little closer to each other.

This prospect put me in a good enough mood to make me want to put on a little music for the remainder of the flight back. With the coordinates to the Great Fox locked in on my navigational equipment, I decided to switch on my autopilot and put on a little jazz playlist I had on my onboard digital media player. It is in this genre that I fell in love with the smooth cadences of the lovely saxophone, and I let it carry me away as I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes and lasing my fingers together.

Once my second song started up, I sensed an unusual wave of thought patterns coming from Falco, so I cracked an eye open to see him swaying his head around to the same beats as my song and glancing my way occasionally when he thought I wasn't watching. It was then I darted my eye to my right knee, which was now resting on the button that enabled the universal frequency on my craft, which was allowing Falco to hear what I was playing in my cockpit. Most might have been embarrassed to see their friend jiving along to one of your secret favourite songs, but I only smiled and closed my eyes again.

Life had never been better for me than it was now.