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Chapter -17- The Night Rose

The broken emergency bridge hatch was kicked inward by an enemy.

Krystal ducked back into Cloudrunner's hold, using her staff to shield herself from the blaster fire. She released two fiery blasts, causing the attacking party to back away from the exit hatch.

Krystal dove forward, barreling through the energy field. She rolled into the bridge of the corvette ship. She sensed attackers.

Somewhere in the background, someone shouted into a PA microphone, demanding backup on the bridge.

Krystal swung her staff, dispatching the nearest attacker. One clear strike to the face and his boots went up into the air. She followed through with the swing, spun about, and opened fire with her staff, setting an adjacent gunman aflame.

The attacker flailed about, ablaze. The flames set off a fire suppression field around his body.

She pointed the staff to her left and froze another attacker, then threw her staff with all of her might.

The staff flew across the bridge and struck the skipper in his gut before he could reach the elevator at the back of the bridge. He spiraled twice, hit the wall adjacent to the elevator doors, and dropped to the deck with a groan.

Krystal vaulted over the helm controls, located in the middle of the bridge, and picked up her staff. There was a little blood on the tip, but not much.

The skipper looked up at her, holding a shallow wound at the center of his abdomen. He saw the blood on the ovular end of her staff. The skipper furrowed his brows with confusion in his gaze. "How ... how did you ... pierce me? That stick isn't even sharp."

"If it was, it would have severed your lower spine. You're lucky. You'll walk away from this ... if I don't kill you. I understand you're ferrying some very dangerous men and, likely, some underaged people, who are here against their will. Pre-teens, possibly."

"I..."

"Don't lie to me," she replied through clenched teeth. "I am a living lie detector. If you lie to me, I will know. Do you understand? Now, where are the syndicate leaders?"

The skipper stammered.

"You're in shock." She firmly swatted the dog's muzzle three times. "Snap out of it, and stop staring off into space like some daft codger. Where are they? Point."

The skipper stared up at her with wide eyes.

For the first time, Krystal noticed he was a canine ... a bit on the fluffy side, with brownish fur and he looked to be in his mid-forties.

Silence.

She stared at him for a moment, then bent at the waist, and said, "Scattered around the ship? You don't know, hm? Wait ... got it. Ta. Now, crawl your tail to sickbay and think about the repercussions of your line of work."

"I... I, uh..."

"And where are the kids they brought aboard with them? Likely pleasure slaves."

The breed-less mutt stared up at her and shook his head. "Kids?"

"Pre-teen or teens, likely girls or young boys. Where the hell are they?"

"What? I don't know of any kids."

Krystal sighed. She could tell he was lying but she wasn't about to kill someone who was afraid to fight her. She shook her head and glared at him. "You're useless. I'll find them myself. I'm only letting you live because you didn't reach for a blaster; you tried to make a dash for it. But if you suddenly start feeling brave from all that adrenaline in your blood, I will make your life hell..."

"My ... L-life?"

"Yeah, ya loon. Your life. Or whatever is left of it. So, don't get any ideas."

The skipper lifted his brown-furred paws to cover his face, palms facing outward. "I'll stay right here. I'll go to the sickbay when you leave."

She stepped over the skipper, called the elevator, turned to the guy across the bridge that was still flailing around, on fire, and used her ice blast just enough to kill the flames.

The fire suppression field fizzled out as well.

Patches of his fur had burned away, but he was still lucid, and, surprisingly, he seemed fairly calm. The fire hadn't burned through his fire-retardant uniform, and he still had most of the fur on his head.

Krystal walked to the crewman, and, with a smirk, she pointed her staff in his face. The tip opened, and the gem used as a lens was pointed straight at his nose. "Are you going to cause me any problems, later?"

The crewman lifted his paws, showing that he was defenseless. "Lady, you just took our four of us in the blink of an eye. You ... you just go right on about your b-business."

"I'm sensing some feelings of animosity and the desire for retribution. Am I going to see you again later on?"

The man was ... was ... overly fluffy. A Keeshond, perhaps? It was difficult to tell from the damage caused by her fire attack.

He shook his head pathetically and waved his paws in front of his face. "No, no, not from me. Are you going to destroy our ship when you leave?"

Krystal scoffed. "Only if I have to defend myself. Keep that in mind." She walked back to the skipper, stepped over him, which caused him to cringe, and then she boarded the elevator.

She pressed a button labeled 'Cargo Hold.' The doors slid shut with a metallic thump.

Now to find Panther.

The elevator creaked and knocked softly, indicating it was an older cable-system, which used large steel cables at the top and bottom of the shaft, as opposed to magnetic levitation, like the lift on Great Fox...

...Krystal shook her head, trying to put all thoughts of her old outfit out of her mind.

She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled slowly. She casually wondered what kind of elevator system Sargasso used ... probably mag-lev and locking clamps for whatever floor it stopped on.

She recalled that there was a large one in the middle of the hanger deck, which went all the way to the top of Sargasso Station.

She wondered if Panther would become overprotective at some point. So far, he was fairly accommodating, and that ... wasn't so bad, really.

Silence. More knocking. Another creak of stressed metal ... and then the doors swished open, albeit slowly.

Panther Caroso stood directly in front of her with his blaster pointed into the elevator.

Krystal smirked. "I told you once and I'll tell you again: it's too soon to show me your pistol, cowboy."

Panther stared at her for a second, surprised by her response. Surprised but amused.

"Yeah," she agreed with his first thought, adding, "That was a bit out of character for me. I was just trying something new."

"As amusing as it was," he said, lowering the pistol by forty-five degrees, before adding, "Be yourself. That's the Krystal I fell in love with. That may not be good enough for Fox McCloud, but it is certainly all that I have ever wanted."

She wanted to reply with something snarky or clever, but nothing came to mind. He was being too honest and open to respond with snark. She lowered her staff, until the ovular end touched the deck.

Panther tilted his head. "Is that blood on your weapon?"

"Just a little. It broke skin, but I didn't run the guy through or anything."

"Krystal, I know our work chemistry is different than ... your previous employer ... but I come as I am. Aloof in battle, because it works against my enemies, but I am exactly as you see before you the rest of the time. This is the real me."

She pursed her lips, stepped off the elevator, and tilted the staff up to use it as a walking stick. "I ... know. I appreciate that about you. You're a bit hokey at times, especially in fights ... I mean, the third-person speech thing? That's just weird. But ... you're a good mate, I guess."

"Oh, honey, I wouldn't go that far. I wouldn't even use 'good' in the same sentence as me."

"I used to tell Fox he was a good guy with bad habits. But you? You're a wannabe bad boy with good habits."

Panther chortled, combining a growl and a chuckle together, deep down in his chest. "If you say so."

"I say so. You brush three times a day. You fold your own laundry. You say a prayer to the old Lylatian goddess of the hunt before you go to bed."

"I also use roses as my calling card when I kill people, and I can break a Cornerian army sergeant in half. But, don't worry, I'll only ever be gentle for you."

"If you want to be more than a wannabe bad boy, you have to show me. Show me, don't tell me."

"As you wish," said Panther with a firm nod. "So, what's the plan?"

"The bridge is secured. We hunt. I want to find the syndicate. I sense ... a single mind in the group that makes me sick to my stomach. That's our target, most likely."

"Lead the way, Night Rose."

"Panther..." She sighed softly and shook her head. "Seriously, shut the hell up with that rubbish."

"Pretending you're not a lady does not make you unappealing."

She snapped her fingers. "Well, damn. I was trying so hard, too." She offered him a smirk and twirled her staff. "All right, then, let's finish this job. I've been too ... chatty ... at least around you. With Fox, it was work first and personal crap later."

"I can work and talk. But, that's fine. We'll do it your way today."

"Good. On my six, Caroso. And no comments about my 'six,' got it?"

He replied with a firm nod. "As you wis--"

"Just stop," she replied. "Enough with the cuteness. Let's see how well we work together, then, yeah? I've got roughly twelve-to-fifteen people on the ship who are still armed and looking to kill us. Four more are up on the bridge, but they're not going to fight us. I took care of that."

"You left them alive? They've seen your face."

"I'm going to buy their loyalty."

"With what currency?"

"Their lives," she said with a wry grin. "It's how Wolf does it, yeah? I let them know I could kill them any time, and they fall in line right quick."

"Very nice," Panther replied with a smile.

"Okay... I sense people nearby. Shut it." She readied her staff and walked down a rather nondescript hallway, silver and grey on all sides.

Panther lifted his pistol, pointing it ninety degrees upward.

They approached a T-junction intersection.

Krystal lifted her left paw, slowed her pace, and made gestures with her left paw. She first held a single finger up. Then she motioned with the head of her staff, clenched in her right fist, gesturing to the left.

Panther saw the staff over her shoulder, then he saw the gesture with her finger. He thought the words, 'Stun mode doesn't create enough raw power to break the sound barrier or superheat the air - it's a silent attack.'

Krystal reached out with her left paw and tapped Panther's blaster, followed by a thumb's up gesture.

Panther nodded and switched to 'stun.' He stopped short of an intersection, took a deep breath, held it, and rounded the corner. In one smooth step, he planted his right foot, aimed, and fired.

The stun blast struck a jackal between his shoulder blades, sending the stun blast up his spine. It shut down the jackal's central nervous system for a moment. The placement of Panther's attack caused the jackal to drop against the bulkhead, and then slide to the deck quietly.

Krystal smiled in approval at Panther's handiwork. She approached the unconscious man, checked his neck to make sure he didn't fall in a way that would break it, then she disarmed the jackal. She removed the battery pack from the man's blaster, put his weapon back into his holster, and checked his ankle for any other weapons.

She stood up, turned to Panther, and tossed him the battery pack.

Panther caught it with grace, put it into a pouch on the back of his outfit, and nodded firmly.

Krystal sniffed at the air, took a deep breath, and focused her telepathic ability.

Panther moved closer. He whispered, "Can you hear people's thoughts the way is depicted in cinema?"

Krystal shook her head. "I don't 'hear' anything, even in a crowded room. I have active thoughts that I recognize are not my own. The brain is like an old radio. The mouth is the speaker, but radios work on waves, and each mind is set to its own very specific frequency. One in a trillion people will broadcast on the same frequency and may never even meet. But my race can perceive all brainwave frequencies at one time. The trick, at least with a group, is to learn how to tune in to whose frequency is putting out whatever thoughts you're trying to perceive specifically - like tuning your radio dial until you find what you're interested in ... does that make sense?"

"Exceptionally well, yes. That is how Andross was able to hide his thoughts from you - he applied a frequency blocker."

Krystal nodded. "My people didn't know about that sort of rubbish. Which, in hindsight, seems silly. You'd think telepaths would have figured out ways to make privacy fashionable, so that, in the modern era, world leaders could keep their political plans from one another. I mean, since when is privacy not in fashion for political types, right?"

"Fashion ... like a hat."

"For Andross? Yes, or so we thought. But what I meant was fashion like a state of mind. See, my culture has always tried to be ... open and accepting ... and, so, we never cared to understand ways to hide our intentions. When Andross came to Cerinia, we simply assumed his mind operated on a frequency beyond our range. We never thought it might just be the hat he was wearing - we thought it was his neurological fashion ... part of his species' evolution. I might not be explaining this very well, but the point is, it took the genocide of my race for me to wake up to how the rest of the universe works."

"I'm sorry you had to see that side of sentient life, Night Rose."

"Stop calling me that, Wilted Petal."

Panther chortled softly, amused by her response. "All right, my dear, let's keep moving. If using your ability to search out enemies becomes exhausting, just let me know. I have a heartbeat monitor I can use to..."

"It's natural to use my ability. It's a sixth sense. Using my other five isn't exhausting unless I, myself, am tired." Her face scrunched up into a moue of disgust. "Oh. Right. I'm so tired that I forgot I'm tired. Look, I'll be fine. Like I said, I'm propped up on an amphetamine. I'll get through."

"Ah. Very good. Let's finish our job."

Krystal nodded. "Now you're talking my language."

He offered her a smile. "Such a professional in the field. Fox doesn't know what he gave up, the fool."

"Okay, focus. I'm not here to think about my ex, nor am I here to tarry about." Krystal perked an ear. She lowered her voice ever so slightly, adding, "I am here to work, get paid, and do some good, even if it's with Star Wolf."

"See? I told you we're not 'bad guys.'"

"Mm, yes, you did." She looked around the area and pointed down the hall, in the direction from which they came. She backtracked to the intersection, gazed to the right, where they came from. She squinted at the elevator, grimaced, and then she crossed the T-shaped intersection."

"I know that cologne," Panther whispered.

Krystal lifted her left paw, extended two fingers, followed by gesturing to the left and right at an upcoming intersection. She glanced back at Panther and whispered, "Allow me to show off?"

A brilliant, toothy smile spread across Panther's muzzle. "Please do."

"Good. Let me show you how intuitive my sixth sense can be. Don't interfere."

Panther nodded in agreement.

Krystal stepped into the intersection, brought her paw to her lips, and cleared her throat into her fist. "Ahem..."

Panther watched.

Krystal kept her feet planted. She shifted at the waist, and then craned her neck to the side, so as to move her head.

Blaster fire screamed by her in both directions.

Panther heard two thuds. He laughed softly and approached her. "You evaded so that they would shoot one another?"

Krystal nodded with a wry smile. "Yeah. Sometimes it goes all to pot. Sometimes one guy misses the other, or one guy hits the other in a vest designed to shield against blaster fire. But this time, it worked the way I was hoping."

"Showy."

"Partially luck, partially not." She pointed to the left. "Check him, Panther, quick as ya' like. I'll get this guy." She moved to the right and knelt over a kangaroo. She disarmed the man, then she lifted the front of his shirt. She furrowed her brows and said, "I thought kangaroos have pouches where they hide their weapons ... and their young."

"Only the females," Panther replied while hunched over the other body. "Mine is a mutt canine."

"Ah." She arched her brows a bit. "So?"

"Cornerians have forgotten what it is like to appreciate a breed or nationality. Canine mutts, globalism, and whatever the '-ism' is for their attempt at making a galactic governance for Lylat."

Krystal furrowed her brows at Panther, then she scrunched her nose at him. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, the Cornerian dogs want to brand globalization with a pathetic smiling emoji. Next, they'll want to rename 'Lylat' to 'the Corneria System' because the goddess, for which the sun was named after, might be offensive to some who are not religious. That's childish and it erases historical roots. It is literally cultural erasure in an attempt to claim that there is a freedom of religion and non-religion. Next, they'll want to rename the days of the week because they were named after old deities."

"Where is this coming from, Panther?"

"The continent where I was born, on Fichina, only has a handful of full-blood large cat species anymore. This is because Corneria is indoctrinating the neighboring worlds into their globalism mindset. It's on the verge of godless cosmic communism. They have no pride in nationality or race."

Krystal blinked. "So, you're ... against ... hybrid species?"

"I'm against the idea that the ideology of preserving purebred races is somehow bad. My parents chose to marry based on being the same species, but this young generation, nowadays, acts like it is somehow taboo to marry within your own race, because the alternative might be looked at as having a race-agenda."

Krystal eyed him carefully. "Continue. I'm suddenly more interested in hearing this than our mission.

"As you wish. I have witnessed people going out of their way to marry outside their breed or race in order to try and prove that they're not racist."

"And you're saying that they should, instead, marry for love without judgment?"

"Freedom to love is what Panther wishes to protect, but, also, I am saying to you that everyone is racist. Everyone. They just don't know it, or they grow up to become tolerant, or they are browbeat by society to become accepting, or ... worst of all, at the far end of the spectrum, they are publicly proud of their racist views, despite those who are offended by it."

"And what are your views, Panther?"

"I've already been banished by my family for bringing shame to them. I am far more liberal than they are."

"How so?" She tilted her head.

"Where my parents would act offended if they knew I worked with a reptile and a canine, I personally only care about the fact that my teammates are competent at their jobs. But I should be allowed to have pride in my species. I judge those who are designer races, comprised of every race their parents and grandparents fucked, until they are all proud mutts. To them, it says their family is proudly not racist, because they will mate with everyone. I say that proves nothing. Everyone is racist. It is how we tolerate our fellow lupines and reptile teammates that makes us truly 'woke' or whatever the latest term is on Corneria."

"Mm, it sounds to me like your parents indoctrinated you, just differently."

"My parents judge me for being bisexual."

Krystal chuckled. "Isn't it called pansexual, now?"

"No, there are differences. Pansexuality is a person who cares about hearts more than parts. It's a lovely sentiment, but it does not describe my sexuality."

Krystal tilted her head.

"Bi means two. I like only two kinds of lovers, effeminate men and effeminate women."

"Is that so..."

Panther replied with a firm nod. "I like my men and my women to be feminine. I am not attracted to masculine males or masculine females. I cannot change my sexual preference. I am attracted to that which I am attracted. I like my mates to be effeminate. I prefer two genders, effeminate men and effeminate women."

"And marrying outside your race?"

"I would marry you in a heartbeat."

"Mm-hmm..."

"But, I would prefer things to happen at a traditional pace. We go steady, I propose, we set a date, we make a seating chart, so the pirates and mercenaries don't fight with the Cornerians and whichever family members actually attend."

"You'd invite your family? The one that doesn't approve of this, that, and the other?"

Panther chortled softly. "I would tell them, 'You told me never to marry canid women. Canines, lupines, vulpines, because you are racist against Cornerian canids. But Krystal is from Cerinia. Genetically speaking, she is half cat and half vixen. But she's nothing like the Cornerians you dislike, so grow up and celebrate true love with me.' And they would do as I ask. Else they would not be invited."

Krystal brought a paw to her muzzle to keep from laughing out loud. She wasn't sure if she felt his response was absurd or completely amusing. She thought about it for a moment, then she couldn't decide if the idea of him standing up for her was somehow romantic, or if she was just deflecting the hurt that she felt from her last 'marriage proposal' falling apart. And then?

Then the realization that her marriage proposal fell apart ... suddenly hit her hard. She wasn't prepared for it. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she bit back on her emotions to the best of her ability. "Dammit," she whispered.

"Krystal?"

She waved a paw at him in silence. "It's nothing," she replied meekly. "Was going to laugh and bit my tongue."

"Should I kiss it better?"

She rubbed at her eyes furiously, inhaled deeply through her nose to clear her sinuses, and asked, in a soft voice, "Kiss ... my tongue?? Oh. Oh. Good heavens, Caroso, you're obsessed."

"With you, yes. But we can revisit this subject later. Let's finish what we started, shall we?"

"Yeah, lets." She realized what he'd done...

He saw her tears and came to the conclusion that he had reminded her of the life she'd planned out and destroyed, so he changed the subject ... and for him to recognize that fact and make a joke to feign ignorance, just so that he could pretend not to notice the shame she felt ... it was ... it was so...

Krystal sighed softly.

...It was so thoughtful of him.

His acceptance of her hurt was appreciated, but more than that, she was thankful he didn't make a big deal out of it.

Her heart ached for what she felt she'd ruined, but ... maybe spending time with Panther wasn't ... so bad.

"Krystal?"

"Hmm?"

"You have, how you say, zoned out. We still have roughly nine people with weapons ahead of us."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Credit for your thoughts."

"I'll share for free," she replied, not understanding his figure of speech. "I was thinking you're not such a bad ... guy ... y'know, for a self-labeled bad guy."

"We all have our moments, even me. But don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold. Let people think I am some sort of chauvinistic lady's man, instead of a lonely one who is desperate for your approval."

Krystal blinked. "That was ... a rather frank thing for you to admit out loud."

Panther feigned a wry smile. "I mean, you're telepathic, so you already know the real me. But I am content to let other people think what they want about me. They are not allowed to know the real me, but you are."

She opened her muzzle, but no words came out. She didn't know what to think. He just showed her a deeply vulnerable side meant only for her, and that ... well, that wasn't so bad. He was surrendering emotional power to her, and, truthfully, she sensed he was being completely honest - he wasn't necessarily desperate for a woman ... he was desperate for her, and his sentiments seemed truly genuine.

It was then that Krystal realized Panther was giving her the power to hurt his heart.

As much as he spoke of protecting her, she started to wonder if he was the one that needed protecting. If she were to go back to Fox, she sensed he would likely be devastated, but, at the same time, he had already prepared himself for her to go back to McCloud.

Silence.

"Panther?"

"Yes, Night Rose?"

She realized something else ... he was using a pseudonym so that he wasn't using her real name on an enemy ship, and he had nothing else to call her at the moment.

"I'm listening," he added.

She exhaled softly. "Listen, Fox had his chance, but he blew it. I don't know what will happen next in my life, but Fox McCloud is in my past. I'm not the kind of woman to look back; I prefer to look forward. It's how I'm handling the loss of Cerinia ... and my family. So, only ever looking forward is also how I've decided to handle my love life."

Panther smiled.

"Not that I'm saying you're definitely _going to be part of my love life going forward, I'm just saying, y'know ... Fox is out of my life. He botched things between us. I'm happy to move forward, not backward. _If you're going to be in my life in that capacity, well..."

"Don't decide that sort of thing right now."

She replied with a dry chuckle, then she asked, "What, in the heat of battle?"

"No, my dear. You've just come from a long-term relationship. A very important part of your life. A huge steppingstone, so to speak. You don't have to rush into something else anytime soon. It would be unfair to you. Take all the time you need, for as long as you need it. Choose what to do with your heart when you are ready. Whether you choose tomorrow or in ten years, I will respect your choice and when you make it."

Krystal replied with a genuine smile. Now she was impressed.

"Just ... not Wolf."

Krystal laughed. "Wolf? You're worried I'd even consider that? I'm so tired of the barmy 'Alpha Male' macho bullshit attitude. It's toxic."

"How so?"

"I cooked'im brekkie yesterday. He said, 'Dry toast, dry sausage, dry eggs ... I hope your vagina isn't as much of a sandbox as this breakfast, for your boyfriend's sake.' He was referring to you."

Panther blinked. "He said that?"

"Oh, don't worry. You'd best believe I sorted him right."

"What'd you do?"

Krystal chuckled offhandedly. "I gave him the angriest glare, then, when he looked back down to feign disinterest, I dumped salt on his bloody eggs and toast ... after taking the lid off the shaker, of course. Let him starve or die of dehydration after spouting that rubbish."

Panther brought a paw to his maw to keep from laughing out loud. But it couldn't be helped. He doubled over at the waist, and a belly laugh came from his barrel chest.

Krystal approached him and placed both of her paws over his muzzle, trying to stop him from laughing, but it was contagious.

He reached up to brace himself on her shoulder with one paw, laughing hysterically, something she'd never heard from him before.

She sensed the way he imagined Wolf's face, and it matched up with the way she remembered it happening.

And, before she could stop herself, she, too, was laughing hysterically. She removed her right paw from his face and braced her knee, and with her left paw she made a fist and thudded her staff against the bulkhead.

Panther cackled, adding, "I bet Wolf was mad he couldn't open both eyes wide when you did that!"

The oxytocin hit Krystal in the gut with a hormone punch of amusement, and she all-but-died laughing. She sensed approaching enemies rushing from either side of the hallway, but the thought of Wolf being even madder that he couldn't widen both eyes to express shock and dismay at having his eggs assaulted ... with ... salt.

"Oh, my god," Krystal wheezed. "I ah-salted his eggs. That's why he was so mad, he felt attacked!"

Panther rested his forehead against hers as they were doubled over together. He exclaimed, "Now Wolf is even saltier than usual!"

Krystal fought for a deep breath; this laughter was like tickle torture. And she knew that several men were hurrying their approach. Why was this so funny, and why now?

"Panther!" she gasped.

"Krystal!" he exclaimed in unison.

Both lifted their weapon and opened fire at the same time, with suddenly expressionless eyes. The adrenaline kicked in, and she fire-blasted her enemies behind Panther.

He shot beneath her elbow, alongside her hip, and rapidly struck several incoming attackers as they rounded the corner, hitting each in the face.

They went down like a sack of potatoes, spilling out across the floor.

Silence followed.

Panther stood up straight, breathing hard as if having just jogged for a long distance.

Krystal lifted the top of her staff and blew a wisp of steam from the lens gemstone, then she closed the top, twirled it, and un-extended the telescopic rod. She moved it to a specially modified magnetic fiber-weave woven into her outfit. The staff clipped to her back with a soft snap sound.

Panther took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then he exhaled with a soft chortle. He turned to Krystal and said, "I saw their shadows come around the corner of the intersection first. I take it you sensed them?"

"Of course."

"So, your staff is made of a magnetic material? I thought it was made of a precious metal, wouldn't that mean it isn't magnetic?"

"Cerinian Orichalcum is only magnetically attracted to one-known-type of Cerinian metal, and only if that metal is electrically magnetized. There's a low current going to my outfit to absorb blaster fire. It magnetizes a strip woven on the backside of my outfit. Reaching back for the staff causes the fabric to shift and bunch up, so that the staff has less surface space to be attached, so it comes off easier."

"How clever."

"Standard issue Cerinian technology. We mastered low-tech to accommodate the high-tech. What? You thought this outfit was Cornerian?"

"Why not wear it on Sauria?"

"I did. It was damaged. Not to mention, the humidity in the Saurian jungle was dangerous with all this fur. I had the surviving outfit hemmed and repaired with a Cornerian body suit from Persimmons. It's what I used during the Aparoid Assault."

"Ah. That makes sense." Panther looked around the hallway. "So, is there anyone left?"

"Just those on the bridge ... and two people down here, somewhere. Both are ... afraid but in different ways."

"I see. Let's go rescue these two victims."

"Not sure what I'm feeling from the two. Let's just do what we came to do."

"Lead the way," he replied, followed by holstering his blaster.

"You just want to look at my arse," she said with a scoff.

"I like the way you walk, but there is no point in staring at a fixed object when my target is your affections, not your tail."

"You're full of good one-liners for once ... I'll give you that much, Caroso." She took point and headed toward the group of bodies that had been coming up behind her, earlier. She stepped over the group of canine males and rounded the corner. "Your kills aren't burnt to a crisp, at least."

"Stun or not, a head shot is usually fatal. Quick blasts to the face remove the possibility of suffering. I don't have any roses to put on their bodies, but ... all the same, I'm pleased they didn't feel anything." He did, in fact, glance at her rump. He appreciated her athletic figure and not just her backside.

"You're staring."

"I am. But not just at your derrière."

"Oh, one of those fancy words from the old Fichinan language, again."

"Mm, yes. The language of love, some call it."

"Oh, please, get over yourself."

"I never came up with that phrasing."

"Ah..." Krystal had to admit, he was always blunt, and always honest. It was actually refreshing for a Lylat-born man to say what he meant and to mean what he said.

The hallway opened up into a cargo hold. It was small for a warehouse, but fairly large for a corvette ship.

Krystal placed a finger to her lips, signaling for silence. She sensed that Panther saw the gesture from behind her. She continued to approach what looked like Cornerian trucking trailers lining the port bulkhead.

Panther reached for his blaster but didn't withdraw it from his holster.

Krystal walked over to a wheeled ladder and rolled it over to the trailers, until it stopped in front of the seventh from the left. She ascended the ladder to one of the trailers on the third row up.

The trailer was lower than the top of the four-story ladder, which went nearly to the ceiling. She reached off to the left and opened the trailer door.

Inside was a man and a teenaged girl. Both looked alike, were calico-colored collies, and moved together, as if huddled in fear.

Krystal tilted her head at them. She leaned over the railing of the ladder, to better see the two at the far end of the fifty-foot-long trailer.

The man blinked at the sight of Krystal. "Uh ... who are you?"

She smirked. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ülich Fenmoss. Who are you?" He approached Krystal at the entrance and looked her over as if sizing her up.

"You can call me ... Night Rose. From a mercenary team hired to do a job. Who's the girl?"

"She's my daughter."

Krystal climbed over the railing of the ladder and stepped into the cargo trailer. She walked around the man and approached the girl. "Honey, it's okay. Is he hurting you?"

"Hurting her?" exclaimed Ülich.

"I, uh..." The sixteen-year-old girl shook her head. "No... he's my father like he said. Why would you think a father would hurt his daughter?"

Krystal sighed softly. More deception. More Lylatian deception.

But this girl didn't mean to lie. She was simply afraid to tell the truth.

Krystal shook her head with another soft sigh.

"Miss?" the girl said to Krystal, adding, "Did you hear me? He treats me like a daughter should be treated."

"I see." Krystal turned back to the man and said, "I'm browned off, so I'm just going to skip the formalities, then, yeah? You're the highest lieutenant of the Syndicate I'm hunting for. And, you're guilty of trafficking people. Not to mention sexual proclivities with minors. And, for the record, you've buggered this poor girl to death, and it's beyond disgusting."

"By the light of Lylat, are you crazy? I would never have sex with my own daughter."

Krystal eyed him and rubbed her chin for a moment. "Mm, I believe you. You wouldn't hurt your own daughter. The thing is, this girl isn't your daughter. Right breed, similar markings, and very similar bone structure, but you only met her a year ago. Roughly."

"What?! How can you say that?!"

Krystal scoffed at the man. She made a fist. "Because I'm telepathic. How many blue vixens have you ever seen from Corneria?"

"What? Blue dye is the fashion on Corneria right now. Has been for a few years, now."

Krystal laughed. "Is that so! Well, I had no idea I was a fashion object. Shows you how little I go to Corneria. Now, my assistant is going to cuff you. You're under arrest."

"On whose authority?"

"I suppose telepathy would never hold up in a Cornerian court of law. Even if it did, it's still my word against yours."

"Well, yes! Exactly that! So, go back to wherever you came from, and..."

"Shut it," Krystal snapped. "You're disgusting. A simple rape kit would be all I need as proof. Since she's a minor and your DNA would not match hers, it would be easy to..."

"You're wrong," said the man with a narrowed gaze. "Test her DNA! It will match mine!"

Krystal stared at him for a moment, as if sizing him up. "Mm, I see. You gave her a marrow transplant. So ... that's how the Syndicate has been keeping their sex slaves close - you make them into Chimera so at a glance, with a simple DNA kit, it looks like she's your relative. Then, no one questions your claim that she's a family member. Devious."

The man reached for a gun at the small of his back.

Krystal thrust her fist into his gut. She pivoted on her left heal, striking the man in his face with her right foot. The full roundhouse threw him out of the trailer. He landed on his back, right on the weapon hidden above the base of his tail.

He laid on the deck with a raspy groan, trying to suck in a breath of air.

Panther put his foot on the man's collarbone and pointed a blaster in the man's face. "Please. Please give Panther a reason to put an eighth hole in your skull. Panther Caroso does so despise rape, especially when it ruins the childhood of minors. Give Panther an excuse. The only thing keeping you alive is Panther's personal code of honor."

The man tried rolling over, but Panther wouldn't let him.

"Can't breathe," Ülich wheezed.

"What a shame." Panther unsheathed his claws and placed his paw above the man's abdomen. "Panther hears if you smack the bottom of a newborn, they suck in a breath of air. Panther does not think that will solve a distressed diaphragm, though. But these claws could make it so that your diaphragm feels this way forever."

Krystal called over the ledge, "He has a gun on his back."

Panther laughed. "No wonder he had the wind knocked out of him! He landed on it." Panther lowered to a knee and reached beneath the man. He took the weapon and held it up. "How ... archaic. Lead bullets? You're not one of those people that dislikes technology, are you?"

The man continued to gasp for air.

Panther scoffed. He withdrew his paw and rested his palm against the hilt of his own blaster, holstered on his hip.

The wheezing man writhed about a bit, and then rolled onto his side.

With a smirk, Panther chided, "Longest ninety seconds of your life, isn't it?"

The man finally drew breath, held it for a few seconds, and released a ragged sigh, followed by drawing another weak breath. He remained lying on his side.

"All better, now, are you?"

The man rolled back to Panther with an emergency single-shot weapon drawn, and, in one quick motion, he fired the small gun.

Panther tilted his head back while pivoting sideways on his heel. The round passed so close to his cheek that he felt the burn.

But Panther was also ready for the attack. He withdrew his blaster in one quick movement, and then fired it just after the barrel cleared the holster, while it was still pointed downward at the deck.

The blast struck the man in the hip.

Ülich's body contracted. His eyes went wide, his limbs jutted outward and his fingers spread apart, wide open. He shuddered hard, then rolled onto his back with half-lidded eyes.

Panther lowered to one knee, holstered his blaster, and guided the man's eyelids shut.

Krystal peered over the side. "God, those things are loud."

"What?" Panther replied, his ears still ringing.

Krystal's eyes widened. "Your face!"

Panther barely heard her wording, but he saw her mouth moving, and understood her. He reached a paw up and touched his cheek. Blood matted the fur and dripped from his jawline. "Oh no," he murmured with a sigh of disappointment.

Krystal leapt from the trailer and landed half-way down the ladder. She jumped from the step, so that she wouldn't stumble, and landed in on the deck, crouched on all fours. She hurried over to Panther and cupped his face in her palms. "Let me see," she said in a stern voice.

Panther relaxed his body and let her lift his face.

"Well, the good news is, you won't have to dye a white streak on your right cheek anymore."

"I liked being able to dye it dark again, so I would not be easy to identify when visiting Corneria."

"Yeah, uh, those days are over, Panther."

He took a deep breath and sighed with a nod. "It is what it is."

She used her thumbs to spread the fur apart with a frown. "This ... was close. But it will leave a mark. You've ... been scarred."

Again, Panther sighed softly. "Sorry if he marred me. I thought I ducked my head back enough. I guess I didn't anticipate properly."

"Panther, you could have died."

"If he'd hit me in the chest, it would have been redirected by the armor plating."

Krystal glared at him. "And what would've happened if it went into your bicep? Whatever. It hit your face, and you're lucky it didn't go through your eye and out the back of your skull."

"Mm, yes, Wolf already has a trademark with the eyepatch."

"It would have gone through your brain, you dummy. You might have a thick skull, but not that thick!" Krystal leaned down and snatched Ülich's handgun. "You didn't even take his weapon before killing him?"

"My blaster was on stun, remember? Although the men upstairs won't be waking up anytime soon due to shooting them in their faces. No worries about my face - that's what laser surgery and follicle transplanting is for."

Krystal shook her head with a sigh and looked over his face again. "For now, I have some wound-seal powder in my medical kit. Still, you should have taken his weapon from him."

"I left the men that I shot with their weapons, too. We'll be gone before they wake. The Syndicate will handle them for failing to protect an asset." Panther took the weapon from Krystal, thumbed the chamber release, and showed her that the weapon was designed to hold only one round. "But this man's failed attempt was his only chance. Single-shot weapon."

Krystal grimaced. "It was still really loud. Why are those things so loud?"

Panther smiled followed by a wince of pain. He cleared his throat and said, "The gunpowder explodes, followed by the bullet breaking the speed of sound. While a blaster on full power superheats the air temperature to create a small thunder, a projectile-fired weapon uses an explosion to power a lead round forward. I can still hear the ringing in my ears."

Krystal frowned. "You could have died, you stupid boy."

Panther shrugged. "Then you would have killed him. You had the higher ground."

Krystal groaned. "Don't be so careless next time."

"Why? Are you going to kick me off the team for surviving something dangerous? Is this line of work too dangerous for me?"

Krystal gawked at him. She shook her head and rubbed her face. Then she chuckled softly, muffled into her paws.

"Well, are you?"

Krystal sighed. "No. I'm not Fox McCloud." She chuckled again, albeit weakly.

"I could have died, and your reaction is to laugh?" Panther grinned at her, then, once again, he winced in pain. "Ow."

She laughed again, shook her head, and took a deep breath to stop herself from deflecting with awkward chuckling. In a sarcastic voice, she replied, "Yes, Casanova, you're off the team for surviving a near death experience."

"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Look at you, Krystal. You're stronger than ever before, am I right?"

She replied with a genuine smile. She gave his uninjured cheek a gentle pat, kissed his nose, and rubbed his face with her thumb. "Don't die, okay?"

"I promise I won't."

"Good." She headed for the ladder to get away from a situation that was quickly turning awkward.

Panther tossed the old fashion single-shot weapon across the cargo deck. It skittered across the deck plates, sliding somewhere beyond his sight. He forced Ülich over, and, with a soft sigh, he fished a zip-tie from a pocket on his outfit. He zip-tied the collie's paws together at the small of the dog's back.

Krystal stopped short of the ladder and glanced back at him, expecting him to ask a question.

"Have you used your name with anyone since arriving, Night Rose?"

Krystal gave the question some thought. "The skipper, up on the bridge. But a shortened version. Same as what I said to the girl, here."

"I'll see to it that the bridge crew forgets. I'll take the prisoners up to your ship and meet you there."

"What about your Wolfen?"

"You're right. I'll stuff this moron into the hold of my fighter and take it back to Sargasso. What will you do with the princess you've saved?"

"Take her to another castle, I suppose." Krystal made her way back up the ladder, glanced down at Panther, again, and said, "Get that man out of here. I don't want her to see him in any capacity. It'll be hard on her."

Panther nodded. "See you in space, Night Rose."

"I'll see you up in the gods, then. Don't get yourself killed, you gormless boy. Especially by that manky creature."

Panther tilted his head and eyed her. "In old Fichinian, we had a similar word with similar usage. Manqué. It generally means faulty, wasted..."

Krystal rubbed her chin. "Sick or unclean," she said, defining the word she used. "Cerinian shouldn't have words that are related to Old Fichina."

"Anything is possible."

She thought back to the fact she was genetically and sexually compatible with Fox McCloud, according to genetics tests. She bit her lower lip. "The Cerinian people used to live in Lylat. There were signs of them on Miracle, above Sauria."

"Fascinating. We'll have to explore that later."

"Maybe when I'm not so tired as to be on the verge of throwing a mardy."

"Mardi Gras? Will you wear beads?"

Krystal furrowed her brows at Panther. "Just ... ponce off, you daft plebeian."

Panther smiled again. He lifted the man over his shoulder, winked at her, and turned for his ship. "Until next I see you, Space Rose."

Krystal took to the ladder, climbed into the trailer, and took the reluctant girl by her arm. In a softer voice, she told the girl, "Your captor is unconscious and being detained as part of a citizen's arrest. He and a doctored version of the surveillance footage will be submitted to the authorities. Corneria expects the criminally accused to stand trial and face their accuser. I'm not going to accuse him. I'm going to blur myself out and let the footage speak of his crimes. You're a teenage girl. Even if he doesn't answer for crimes as a Syndicate member, he'll have to answer to the crime of statutory rape. I understand that Cornerian law has a minimum of fourteen years before you're eligible for parole for first-time offenders when it comes to statutory rape."

The girl swallowed. "But he ... is my caretaker. Who will take care of me?"

Krystal sighed softly. "You've been programed to accept this jiggery-pokery as somehow being all right. He was never your caretaker. He was your captor. As I understand it, Corneria has extensive sexual psychotherapy programs. It's free of cost, so you're in good hands."

The teenaged collie replied with a submissive nod. She bit her lower lip and held her paws outward, wrists together.

Krystal swatted the girl's forearms apart. "You're not my prisoner. You're my ward until I can take you to safety. What planet are you from?"

"Corneria," said the girl.

"Well, in that case, I'm taking you home."

"I haven't known anyone but 'Daddy' since he rescued me from the people that owned me, which goes back as long as I can remember. How do you know he's not really my father?"

"My God," Krystal whispered to herself. "He's not your daddy. If you've been missing, you will be in the Cornerian system. Your DNA has been altered, but Corneria will use biometric facial recognition software to determine your identity. They'll also use your dental bite to confirm it. Missing persons have their fingerprints taken from crime scenes when they are abducted, or from objects in their bedroom when the parents report you as missing. Those pads on your paws will get you to the proper home."

The girl's eyes glistened in the glow of the lighting installed on the ceiling of the trailer. "Whoever I go home with, I won't know them. You're sending me home to strangers."

Krystal sighed softly. She peered over the side of the trailer, watching as Panther carried off the unconscious man on his shoulder. The older male collie's face thumped against Panther's armored outfit, and his limp arms hung down adjacent to Panther's tail.

Panther carried the man to his ship, the Black Rose.

The girl bit her lower lip but said nothing.

Krystal turned back to the young lady in front of her, who was dressed in ankle-length tan and grey skirts and a simple white blouse. From the smell of it, the girl hadn't had a shower in at least two days. Three tops. The vixen sighed softly. "We'll need to get you a pair of plimsolls. Something with decent soles."

"Did you hear me?" asked the girl.

"What's your name?"

"Marie."

"Well, Marie, there's a woman on Corneria, who gave birth to a little girl. That woman, whatever her name may be, gave birth to you, then she drew you up and held you in her arms. She cried over your tiny squeaking body, kissed your eyelids, and sustained you from her bosom. She fell in love with you, and she was devastated when you were abducted. No doubt that her heart aches every single day for the loss of her tiny baby. Now, maybe that woman has had more children since you went missing, maybe you were her only chance to be a mother. Doesn't matter. My point is, Marie, you lost out on a childhood and she lost out on the joys of motherhood ... something every mother has the right to enjoy. She bonded with you, and you were stolen from her. That isn't like losing a favorite doll, or parting with a captor, with whom you've created a temporary bond. No, it's undoubtedly a nightmare beyond compare. She might even have PTSD over losing her child. She probably mourns you and visits an empty grave every year on your birthday and boxing day. She probably has random crying spells when she thinks about you, or something reminds her of you. I'm sure it's been that way for her since the day you disappeared, no matter how old you were when you were taken by that fop."

Marie swallowed.

"Now, you're young, Marie. Your understanding of empathy is new, and girls your age best empathize with those they have bonded, or when they see something heartbreaking happen. But I want you to empathize with the mother you don't remember, just for a moment, all right?"

She bit her lower lip again.

Krystal placed her palm on the girl's cheek. "Listen, lovie, I know you don't remember your family, but they will remember you."

"Last time they saw me, I was in a stroller."

Krystal shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'll bet you a fiver that they still have your pushchair ... eh, stroller, I mean."

"You really think so?"

"Just ... let Corneria get you in touch with them, so you can have the experience of knowing that love. Everyone deserves to know love like that ... all right?"

Marie nodded in silence. She glanced away from Krystal, so that the blue vixen wouldn't see her eyes water with tears.

Krystal sighed softly. "Just ... let Corneria put you in touch with your family. If you don't like them, or you think the parents are legally incapable of being parents, or if they're too damaged, then I'll make sure you have a way to get in touch with me, all right? And I'll do my best to keep you out of the red tops, Marie. Don't speak to any journalists. They'll twist everything."

Marie nodded, still facing away from Krystal. "Let's ... uhm ... let's go to Corneria before I change my mind."

Krystal walked to the edge of the trailer, pulled on the handrail, moving the ladder a little closer, and she gestured for Marie to climb onto it. "Be careful, all right?"

"Yeah ... um, will I be called on to testify against the Syndicate?"

"Do you want to?"

"Have they done this to other girls?"

"Literally tens of thousands of children. Girls, young boys, just ... whoever the Syndicate member has a sexual attraction toward. And they traffic kids they don't want for themselves - they sell those kids to the highest bidder. From what I can tell, it's how that man, Ülich, wound up taking possession of you ... he bought you. It's a rather grim group."

Marie brought a paw to her muzzle. She exhaled softly. "Will I have to testify if ... if you kill them all?"

Krystal rubbed her chin in thought. "I ... suppose not. My outfit is looking to shut them down by ensuring there is a lack of leadership. All right?"

Marie nodded. She climbed out onto the ladder, descended it with one paw on the railing, and the other on the hem of her skirts. At the bottom, she waited for Krystal on the cargo hold deck.

Krystal decided to earn the girl's trust by doing something flashy. She somersaulted from the lip of the trailer, three stories up, withdrew her staff, and activated the shield bubble. The shield struck the deck, absorbing the kinetic energy of her fall, as if the deck plates were an attacker.

Krystal dropped into a crouch with her right paw between her ankles and the staff held aloft in her left palm. She remained crouched. "That was a bit brilliant, then, yeah? Stuck the landing."

Marie bit her lower lip. "How ... did you do that?"

"Practice from ... it really doesn't matter. Just wanted to show off. Like it?" She remained in the crouched position, and swiveled her head, looking around the hold. She was glad to see that Panther was gone and had taken the Syndicate member with him.

"I ... thought you were going to hurt yourself," Marie said with worry in her tone. "You're sure that you are okay?"

Krystal stood up with a smile and replaced her staff on her back. "Never better. Let's head up to the bridge. My ship is docked with the side of this corvette."

The teenager reached up, cupped Krystal's face, and kissed her on the lips.

Krystal felt a tongue tip against her pursed lips. She remained stoic, careful not to make any sudden moves that might startle the teen.

Krystal calmly brought her paws up, took the girl's forearms in her grasp, and guided Marie's wrists down. Then, she broke the kiss and shook her head.

"Oh ... uh, are you straight? I'm sorry if I offended you."

Again, Krystal shook her head, followed by a disheartened sigh. "Marie, I'm just your rescuer. You have been through a lot, honey, but kissing me isn't necessary."

"But, I did it because I thought you'd like it. I wanted to thank you for helping me."

Krystal shook her head once more. She she guided the girl's palms together between her own. "No, Marie."

"You're straight, huh?"

"My sexual preference isn't a matter of concern, here."

"I'm not pretty enough for you?"

Krystal felt her heart ache with realization that this young girl had so much baggage needing to be analyzed - it would take a professional to reset this girl. She took a deep breath, sighed softly, and said, "You'll soon learn that you can show appreciation without rodgering someone. Without, uh, sex. That's something the Cornerian therapists will address."

"I ... want to do this. You've certainly earned it. It's okay. I consent to it."

Krystal reached up and cupped the girl's face. "You only think you do. The heart wants what the heart wants, and I am flattered that you want to thank me in any fashion. But, Marie, you have to understand something very important, okay?"

The collie stared at Krystal, while gently biting her lower lip, scared of rejection.

Krystal's heart ached for all that this poor girl had been through. She kept her paws on either side of Marie's face, so that their eyes met. "You've been conditioned to think that sex is an appropriate method of showing gratitude, and while I appreciate that you are thankful, I am satisfied with a simple 'thank you.' The fact of the matter is ... it's neither necessary nor appropriate for an adult, like myself, to accept a physical or otherwise sexual form of thanks or gratification from a minor. A hug is satisfactory, because you have my permission, but a kiss is, well, inappropriate."

"Oh ... I ... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't know. Like I said, you've been programmed ... conditioned ... to think a certain form of behavior is expected or, to some extent, appropriate in any way."

"Oh, uh, well, all right..."

Krystal frowned. She could sense the teen's frustration and see her flustered expression. "Listen, Marie, I don't want you to feel rejected because I won't kiss you back. That's not_what's happening here, between us. A hug and a handshake? That would be _fine. However, a kiss is, well, not appropriate."

"I don't see why not. You look my age."

Krystal chuckled softly. "Well, I'm flattered you think so, but, in Cornerian years, I'm in my mid-twenties. I'm attracted to adults, and you're such a pretty young lady - you're going to make a future mate very happy one day. Just do me a favor, all right? I want you to wait until the time is right."

"I ... uh ... I know how to cook. Can I cook something for you? Please?"

Krystal smiled. "That would be lovely."

Marie hugged Krystal but didn't let go.

After a few seconds, Krystal gently relinquished the hug, cleared her throat, and took the girl's paw. "Come with me. I'll show you the way back to the bridge."

Marie tried interlacing her fingers with Krystal's own.

With a soft sigh, Krystal released Marie's paw. "I'm sorry, but I prefer to hold hands _like that_when I am in a relationship with someone. That sort of thing takes time to build up rapport and emotional history. Then, when it's appropriate to do so, holding hands is a nice way to share affections. But there are no romantic affections between us, all right?"

"I ... I understand. I'm sorry. I keep messing up."

Krystal frowned thoughtfully. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's how you were groomed."

"So, am I, uh ... broken?"

Krystal felt a pang in her heart. She repressed her emotions over the last few months, but this situation was so overwhelming. She shook her head emphatically "No, no! You're _not_broken, sweetie ... you just don't know any other way. You were raised by a trainer, not by society. We'll get you right in no time."

"How?"

"Well, Marie, you just need to be reprogrammed. In no time at all, appropriate behavior will be second nature to you. I've heard that Cornerian therapists are highly regarded for their methods of helping young persons. Now, come with me. We'll head back to my ship and you can take a shower and ... I think I have sweats that will fit you until we can launder those..." Krystal trailed off.

"These?" Marie reached down and fluffed her dingy skirts.

"Better yet, I will find you something fresh and new to wear. Something with no weird memories attached."

"Thank ... erm ... thank you, miss...?" Marie trailed off with an expectant tone. Either she'd forgotten that Krystal had introduced herself as 'Night Rose,' earlier, or she wasn't paying attention while Krystal was speaking to Marie's captor.

Krystal feigned a weak smile. "Just ... call me, uh, Night Rose."

"Are you some sort of superhero? I mean, y'know, with a name like Night Rose, you sound like a superhero."

Krystal looked away, flustered. "I'm no superhero. I'm just a mercenary doing a job. Just remember this ... don't give away your body until you've found someone worth giving your heart. And wait until you're engaged to be married before you consider making love to them. And make sure you know them better than they know themselves before you get to that point. Because you never know when that person's real colors will show."

"How do you mean?" asked Marie.

"You don't want them to hurt your heart simply because the two of you have a difference of opinion on a deeply fundamental level. Just make sure you know them, and they accept you for who you want to be ... before you agree to open your heart, your arms, or your legs to them."

"I ... think I understand. Make sure they're really your soulmate, and make sure you're truly compatible before you agree to have sex with someone. Is that it?"

Krystal replied with a truly genuine smile. "You're a quick learner."

"I hope so ... I think I might have a lot of learning to do, Night Rose. Gut feeling."

Krystal guided the girl through the hallway back the way she'd come from.

The attackers from earlier were still unconscious and provided no resistance to their escape.

Krystal guided the girl to the lift, let her board first, and they took it up to the bridge.

Up on the bridge, the doors swished open, and Krystal pointed her staff outward.

The bridge staff was dead ... killed execution style. Their bodies were laid out neatly beyond the helm control console.

"Well, someone left this place at sixes and sevens, good heavens. It couldn't have been Caroso, and it surely wasn't me."

The girl's nose twitched at the smell of blood. "Someone killed members of the crew?"

"Yeah. And they sorted the bodies. Whoever did this, I'm surprised they didn't leave it all shambolic, you know? Just ... don't look."

"I won't, Ms. Night Rose."

Krystal guided the girl around the bridge in a way that she would be spared the sight of four dead bodies. She helped the girl through the hatch, into her ship, then followed her through, closed the hatch to the corvette, then the hatch to the Cloudrunner.

"Do you suppose it was thee, uh, syndicate?"

"No one else boarded the ship, Marie. I would have known, or Panther would have called it in that someone snuck aboard to tie up loose ends."

"What if it was a piloting droid?"

Krystal grimaced at the thought of ROB64 being programmed to do such things. She shook her head with a frown. "Let's hope not, but you could be right. I take it you've seen such things before?"

"I, uh..." Marie frowned. "Maybe."

Krystal typed a pin-code into a keypad installed adjacent to the boarding panel. She pressed 'enter' and said, "Authorization Code: Kilo, Romeo, Yankee, Sierra, Tango, Alpha, Lima, India, Sierra, Charlie, Uniform, Romeo, Sierra, Echo, Delta," which broke the forcefield seal between the two vessels.

"That's a lot of letters to memorize."

Krystal feigned a weak smile. "Not if you know the significance of the order."

"Oh."

Krystal pointed to a small closet and said, "Behind the door, there, is a set of drawers. Pants are in the bottom, undergarments are in the middle drawer, and tops are, well, in the top drawer. You look like you're a similar build, but if all else fails, sweats will surely fit you; they have a drawstring. Take what you need, go into the shower, and take as long as you need."

Marie bit her lower lip, then, in a soft voice, asked, "What's your dress size?"

"When I arrived on Corneria the first time, a size-2 was a tiny bit loose, but it fit me best. However, I've gained quite a bit of muscle mass since working as a mercenary. And, yet, Cornerian cuisine has made me a bit top-heavy, I'm afraid." Krystal cleared her throat. "I'm a size-4, now."

"I can manage a size-2 but I'll need a belt if we're talking about denim pants. Else they won't stay up." Marie changed the subject rather suddenly. "How long does your hot water last?"

"It's a tankless heater design. The reservoir should have a little over one hundred gallons of water. There's no tub, just a stand-up shower. But it recycles water that goes through the drain, so you can take as long as you like."

"I, uh ... thank you."

Krystal smiled and nodded. "I'm going to pilot us out of this system."

"Awkward question, but ... are you sure you don't want to join me?" Marie swallowed, and then, in a softer tone, she added, "...In the shower?"

Krystal shook her head. "Honey, you're a teenager. What, fifteen? Sixteen? Don't answer, it doesn't matter. It's rhetorical."

"But you saved me, Ms. Night Rose."

"You're very welcome for the assistance, but I'm just doing my job"

"Um ... if you change your mind, just ... join me. You don't have to ask, you can just walk in."

Krystal shook her head. "No, Marie. I shan't, love. I need to have an emotional attachment to someone before I feel comfortable to engage them physically. All right?"

"Is it because you just came out of a relationship or something? Just tell me."

"I am, Marie. I'm telling you the truth - it's inappropriate for an adult to be with a minor. And, well, even if I was looking, I would not be interested in someone quite so young. But I hope you find someone your age ... someone with whom you can one day share your best and worst side without reservation."

Marie nodded, swallowed, and said, "Well, like I said. If you change your mind ... you know where I'll be."

"Enjoy your shower, sweetheart. Go ahead and grab something to wear. Dirty laundry goes into the chute on the bulkhead directly across from the sink. Or in the corner of my bedroom, I suppose. Anyhow, I'll see you after your shower. Hopefully, by the time you've finished, we'll be closing on Cornerian airspace." Krystal walked to the bathroom door and opened it for the girl. "Now, go on."

Marie opened the bottom and top drawer in the closet. She found a very plain dark blue sweat set, then she carried them into the bathroom. "Thanks again for your kindness."

"Thanks again for understanding that I wasn't rejecting you."

"I'm ... trying."

Krystal looked down with a sigh. She decided to try another tactic. "Marie, while it's true what I said earlier - you're too young for me, you were right about one thing ... I just came out of a complicated physical relationship. I was with the man for several years, and it only-recently became fully physical..."

"As in ... you went 'all the way' for the first time?"

Krystal felt flush in the face. "Uh, well, yes. And the first few times with him were very nice. Lovely, even. I thought I'd finally found it - true love. An orgasm isn't necessarily true love, and too often, a woman will experience one and convince herself that she's found true love."

"You mean like ... with Daddy?"

Krystal eyed the girl. "Don't call him that."

"Right, sorry. Uh, so, what happened with your first love?"

Krystal licked her lips and sighed softly through her nose. "Things were going swell. Brilliant, even. And then ... he became weirdly possessive, and I ended it with him. There was a ring involved and everything. Even if you were an adult, the fact remains that I'm not ready for another physical relationship with anyone, all right?"

"Because you have to build up feelings first?"

Krystal smiled. "Exactly. And that won't happen until I work through mourning my last relationship."

"How long will it take you to get over the feelings you had with your last boyfriend? Er, fiancé, I mean. I'm not asking because I want to be with you. I'm asking because I don't know how long I'll be over ... my ... ex."

"He's not your ex. He was your captor. And that's in the past, now. It may take days, weeks, months, or even years. When you think you're over him, you'll be lying to yourself. Then, one day, you'll truly be over him. Healing is different for every woman."

"I see. I think, deep down, I truly hated him. I just didn't know it until now ... because now I can finally admit it. I'm a little confused. I know you're telling me we're not related, but I keep wondering if we were. And I keep thinking, 'what if...?' but, somehow, I know you're not lying to me. I just ... I know it. And ... uh, I find you very attractive, but I'm mostly attracted to your honesty with me."

Krystal sensed the girl's attraction to her savior. The vixen sighed and shook her head at the collie. "Honey, there is a very, very, very lovely man or woman in your future. I'm simply not that person."

"I know. You're being honest about that, too. And while I don't expect a relationship, if you ever decide to experience a one-night stand with a girl in your future, just ... look me up. I'll be eighteen before you know it."

Krystal shook her head. "You're relentlessly motivated. I'll give you that much. This is extremely awkward for me, and I'm hoping you'll leave it be, because I don't respond well to people who are pushy or demanding. Please understand my feelings. Also, it's time for you to clean up, dear."

"I, uh ... I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable." Marie unzipped a netting in front of shelves of bath towels. She set the borrowed sweats atop the towels. She decided to change the subject all together. "Why is there netting here?"

"In case I get into an atmospheric-based dogfight with my fighter, the towels won't wind up all over the floor ... er, well, deck."

"Oh, that makes sense." Marie turned away from Krystal and dropped her skirts around her ankles. She didn't wear undergarments. She withdrew the blouse and put both into the chute across from the sink. She removed a simple slightly dingy bra and put it with the borrowed clothes.

Krystal sighed. She glanced at the girl's body, but only to check her for any signs of physical abuse, like scars, burn marks, or other forms of mistreatment from her captors. Satisfied that, at a glance, the girl seemed uninjured, she turned away to give the girl privacy. "Enjoy your shower."

"Oh, I will. I haven't had one in days, and I almost never get to have the entire shower to myself."

"Well, get used to that, Marie. You'll be taking them by yourself for the rest of your days until you choose to share one with whomever you decide to marry."

"Okay." Marie stepped into the shower. "You're not going to get into a dogfight while I'm in here, are you?"

Krystal chuckled. "There's a safety feature that senses your presence in the cabin. If the Cloudrunner spins about in space, gravity and inertial dampeners will make it so you don't even feel it. But, if I were to get into a skirmish in-atmosphere, force fields would surround you to keep you from falling."

"So ... either way, I'd be safe?"

Krystal nodded firmly. "Yes. You'd be safe in the shower. I promise. Although, in an atmospheric battle, the water might hover when I pull high-G maneuvers. It would probably turn into a fine mist - I would hate for you to get water up your nose. Not very pleasant."

Marie chuckled a bit. "Eww."

"I'll ... be in the cockpit."

"Thanks again." Marie quickly turned to Krystal and kissed her cheek.

Krystal froze, then she cleared her throat. "That ... was better. I'll accept that." She averted her eyes so as not to look at the teen's body head-on.

"Did ... I do something wrong? You looked away."

"You've done nothing wrong," said Krystal. "I'm looking away out of respect for the privacy you deserve, even if you don't think you need or want it. It's social custom to give you privacy, all right?"

"I understand."

Krystal replied with a soft smile, still keeping her eyes averted from the girl's body.

"When I was with ... him ... and he had friends over, it was expected that I present myself naked when asked, and act as normal as if I were dressed as a formal social."

Krystal grimaced. "It's a shame I no longer have the ability to go and punch him in his face. I would like nothing more than to tonk him in his smug face with my bloody staff. Which ... reminds me, I need to clean it."

"Tonk him?"

"Too right." Krystal nodded firmly. "Tonk'im for six." She exhaled. "It's an expression based on a popular sport in Cerinia. It's not too terribly different than Corneria's baseball. Except that it's ... actually fundamentally different once the bat is swung."

"Oh." Marie shrugged. "I don't know anything about sports. Cornerian or otherwise. And, uh, I've never heard of Cerinia."

"Either way, I did my best to speak brilliant toff, but lately I have been backsliding to some vernacular I intended to leave in my past. Just ... ignore my silly-sounding words."

"I ... actually like hearing it."

"Mm, well, cheers. I'll be in the cockpit. I'll let you know when we're nearing Corneria. Should take about three hours."

"Okay." Marie stepped into the shower, took one look at the controls, and turned on the hot water with relative ease.

Krystal zipped up the net in front of the towel shelf, stepped out of the bathroom, and touched a panel that closed the door.

She exhaled hard with a shake of her head and headed for her cockpit. "Bloody teenaged sexual tension. Bloody dripping with it, she was. God, I couldn't focus on my own thoughts, her hormones were screaming so loud. My goddess. What the hell is wrong with Lylat teenagers?"

Silence.

Krystal slumped into her chair and rubbed her face. "Awkward little totty ... leering at me like that."

Silence.

The vixen opened a data-channel and texted Panther to inform him of her destination, then she plotted a course for Corneria. With another soft sigh, she set the autopilot and reclined in her seat.

Something told her that it was going to be a very long three-hour trip, and a very long night.