FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter -6-

"Fresh Mistakes"

"I hope this job is fun." Falco Lombardi looked out over the orange, dusty expanse of Papetoon. "Of course, it won't be any fun for you, but it's better than doing nothing at all, right?" A lame grin was offered. "This planet is like Katina except that the population isn't nearly as..."

"Hold up. I'm getting an incoming data stream. I may have found something. Don't rush in, though. We hold back and look around, first."

"You've got to be hating life down there on the ground." Lombardi executed a barrel roll then followed it with a full loop. He eased his taloned foot down on the right rudder pedal and peered out through the canopy at the Land Master tank far below. A plume of dust trailed up behind the tiny silver dot. "Can't that thing go any faster? I'm practically at stall speed and I'm still blazing by you."

"Keep your eyes and ears open," said McCloud. "I don't have a telepath on the team anymore, so calm down and watch for any signs of... anything. All I found so far was a rusted hull belonging to an abandoned frigate - probably decades old."

"So what's the deal with these guys, anyhow? I overheard they're a bunch of goons that were hiding out on Venom until their leader went split-city. Why is Papetoon concerned?"

"They're working for a guy with ties to the dead Anglar Empire. It's complicated." Fox paused, read the incoming optic-mail on a side panel screen then said, "Okay, see if you can follow this. One of the top guys working for the Big Fish is trying to kill other Anglars that formed the leadership circle. Basically, everyone else who tied him for second in command. So... this guy is knocking out his competition - he's trying to get what's left of the Anglar race to follow him. He even hired a hitman to kill a guy that was safe and sound in a Cornerian Maximum Security prison. So yeah... these guys are apparently organized and sharp. The leader of this group fled the system but his cronies are in place, here on Papetoon, to hunt down a guy named Zizan - the only remaining Anglar General left on the hit list. Zizan is here on Papetoon and is lying low and not bothering anyone."

"So what? He's an Anglar scumbag. Let him get wacked."

"Nothing would please me more," said McCloud. "But... this group of guys tore up a public place while trying to kill Zizan in public. They missed their target but they caused a few civilian casualties. Papetoon wants these guys dead. The money is good and you're bored... so I say we find these guys... rough'em up... then find out where their boss is. We'll track him down and take him out before he can gain any momentum or power."

"Wow... taking this kinda' personal, huh?" Lombardi evened out his fighter, the Sky Claw and tapped the bottom of his beak with a feathery fingertip. "That's pretty awesome. Do you think he's worth anything? Maybe we can turn it into a bounty hunting job, since he's already causing people to die."

"Oh, I plan to market my decision to track this guy down. Whoever wants to pay for his head will get the credit for the take down. Money talks more than fame. I mean, we've got fame - that's no big deal."

"My man!" Lombardi cracked his knuckles then stretched a bit. "So what're we looking for?"

"These guys have several hideouts. They had one on Venom, right under Dash Bowman's nose... but someone cleaned it out and shut it down. Now this guy's gang has set up shop here on Papetoon, causing trouble. We're looking for any signs of life in this area."

Falco eased back on the flight stick, gaining altitude. The horizon of Papetoon curled in a soft frown hundreds of miles out. "They're on this continent? It's the harshest, driest, dustiest, windiest and most inhospitable part of the whole damn planet. There's no friggin' water for as far as the eye can see. WHO would want to live in this area?"

"Someone who wants to remain hidden, obviously." Fox tapped on the sensor scope. "But you're right... this area looks rather uninhabited, doesn't it? Maybe Papetoon's government doesn't have very good information. I don't see crap out here. Just wind and dry heat."

"What about satellite imagery? Can't we download something from the employer to help us pinpoint... I dunno, anything?"

"Falco, it's rare to have calm days like this one. Usually this whole area is one big sand storm. They move easily without being seen and have been doing so for a few months. ANY sign of life is a lead. Just keep your eyes open."

"Sure thing, man. But yeah... I see nothing."

This time, Fox didn't reply. However, he sent a data streamed message to the Papetoon contact, asking for them to upload recent satellite footage of the planet for him to research. Fox knew they wouldn't respond right away and there was always a possibility that the person who hired him didn't have the authority to access such pictures... McCloud's eyes moved back to the digital screen, watching the desert landscape rush by at one hundred miles an hour. High above, the Sky Claw did another loop to keep from getting too far away from McCloud's tank.

The sweeps lasted for four hours with no leads. Fox opened a channel to Falco and said, "I've been talking to our employer through optic mail. They're saying that new information has just come across, officially linking our targets to a Cornerian wanted list. Our targets work for a guy named Octoman - he's fled the Lylat system completely. However, they have an idea where he's gone. They also said that these guys who worked for Octoman are here to carry out his orders so they're considered way more dangerous than initially thought."

"Raise the rate, then!"

Fox laughed, despite his weariness. "Yeah, I didn't have to. They offered to raise the rate. These guys are considered the prime objective because they're still here in Lylat causing trouble. Octoman is considered a secondary bounty trail. They said Corneria and the Interplanetary Defense Council are buying out this job and will be our future contact from here on out. I contacted them and they wrote to me. AHEM... 'Dear Star Fox Team: There are approximately four living members of Octoman's Lylat terrorist force. Last seen on Papetoon, these four men are considered enemies of the state and should be apprehended with extreme prejudice. We're offering a reward triple your original amount for all four bodies, dead or alive. If vaporized, tissue samples and black box recordings are required to receive payment. An additional prize and purse is offered for the capture or death of Octoman, located on a distant planet beyond the Lylat System. Plotting a course out to this system will take time, testing and clearance before we can authorize anyone to go there. Further information on Octoman will be provided upon the capture or proven death of his team.' Now, I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty wild. Plus they're throwing money at us. Also, if we can stop these guys by the end of the business quarter, they'll provide bonus pay. If you ask me, these four guys must be hurting business or stocks or... who knows. I looked up when the business quarter ends... we've got six weeks."

"Geeze. Well... Call Slippy. If anyone knows how to find something that's hidden... it's him. Maybe we can shut these guys down in a matter of days instead. I don't want to run reconnaissance patrols for the next six weeks."

"Let's head back to GreatFox and refuel. It's getting late and I'm feeling stuffy again. I want to beat this cold, not help it to make a comeback. I'll move the ship into orbit and we can start photographing this region for clues. Unfortunately, this may very well take a few days, or even a few weeks, pal."

"See you on the flight deck, tank boy." Falco pulled back on the flight stick and headed straight up into the atmosphere.

---

An hour later...

Pink webbed fingers pressed down against a print analyzer. Amanda glanced back at Slippy then lowered her eyes to the sparkling ring on her left hand. She moved towards the shorter amphibian and picked up her workbag from the locker unit. She placed it on a wooden bench by her locker, closed the small metal storage unit then touched the print analyzer again, securing the locker. "I'm glad you told me before my interview. I see you've been thinking about this all afternoon. You know it will eat into our savings that we've put aside for children."

"It might help. Fox called me back just a little while ago... they're being given another job and he'll need our help. The pay is good. Also, we'll live rent free in exchange for an increased utility bill. I think we can mange it. Besides, the refitted Great Fox has a more... personal touch. Wood counter tops, kitchenettes in everyone's quarters. And you know ROB hates living under water with us. We can always return to the dome if things don't work out. Besides, Fox is really struggling with this whole... loneliness thing. He's hiding it better than before but... you can see it in his eyes. He needs us, now that Krystal is gone again."

She smiled and shook her head. "Boy, when you go on about something, you really go on about something. Okay, baby-boy. We'll give this a shot." She shouldered the heavy workbag and sighed softly. "I guess I'd better go and give my notice. What about you? You're the one working the good paying job, here."

"Are you kidding?" Slippy grinned impishly. "My father and I talked about this six hours ago and he was like, 'what are you waiting for? Why are you still standing here?' I still have this job if we come back to try planet-life again. You know I live for this mercenary stuff and it's a b-b-big part of my life. And it would really mean something to me if I could share it with you."

"Aww." Amanda's face brightened. "That was so sweet!" She reached for his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "I love you and I would love to go wherever you are. Let me go in and give my temp-agency supervisor the bad news. Then we can get back up to your friends and see what must be done to get Fox McCloud back together with his girlfriend. After all, he's a good guy and deserves to be as happy as we are."

"Yippie!" exclaimed Slippy in a boisterous tone of voice. "Now you're talking!" He reached for the bag on her shoulder and took it to lighten her burden then gestured to the other end of the locker room. "I'll call Fox back right away, while you go and talk to your supervisor. Heck, why don't we head up there tonight? I'll have ROB start organizing our stuff. I mean, shoot... we haven't even unboxed most of our stuff from moving here six months ago... this move is going to be way easier. Sad though, isn't it?"

She nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's sad that we never even unpacked after half a year. But you know... that apartment never really felt like home in the end. It was more of an extended stay at a hotel suite."

"Yeah, I guess - still, moving kind of sucks." With a grunt, the frog wiggled the shoulder strap on the bag, shortening it so that it wouldn't hang so low. He'd never dated a tall girl before but he was actually adapting to it really well. "How many do you want to have, anyhow?"

"As many as we can count, sweetheart," she replied.

"Homes...? We only need one - we've just got to find the right place at the right time and then we'll know we've found it. A place to call home, I mean."

"Oh," she said with a casual grin. "And here I thought you meant kids." She saw the way his eyes widened; his reaction caused her relaxed grin to broaden. "Like I said... as many as we can count, sweetheart." She gestured towards the bag he was holding for her. "I don't mind carrying it, hon. After all, it has a lot of stuff in there."

For some reason, Slippy suddenly felt stronger and waved off her offer. "Oh, no, I've got it. It hardly weighs a thing." His posture changed and he followed besides her with a striding gait.

"You are such a gentleman." She watched his expression change again. This time, it went from being studly to looking a touch bashful. Amanda could tell he wasn't used to such praise. She reached out and touched his cheeks with her fingers. "You're so cute when you offer to do things like that for me. Manliest man I've ever met."

"Shucks," he murmured. "It's really no big deal." His confidence escalated and it showed in his web-footed swagger.

---

Meanwhile...

"I should probably cut my hair when we get back to the base," said Krystal, mostly to herself. Bill cocked a brow at her and she immediately sensed that he actually liked her hair getting longer. "I thought I was breaking code now that it's starting to pool on my shoulders. Furthermore..." She trailed of and, again, listened to his thoughts then smirked. "I don't want special treatment just because I'm an alien telepath. If the military has rules about hair length then I should..." yet again, she paused in mid statement then sighed as if in defeat. "Fine. It stays until someone above me in rank even so much as thinks an angry thought in my direction. I take my job seriously and military code is part of that job. The length of my hair certainly falls under 'code' for my profession."

"Okay, I won't argue you on that, darlin'. Now c'mere and give me that little device I gave ya' lastnight. While yer at it, give the thing some sugar, would'ja?"

She sensed his intentions and blinked. "You want me to lick it before I give it to you?"

"It's designed to go active when wet, since it's too small to have an actual toggle switch. You'll have to lick it to get it wet." He leaned as close to the laser bars as he could to peer down the hall. "You sense anyone watching us? I don't see or hear no one."

"The coast is clear." She turned away from the canine and slid her paw down the front of her shirt. After a moment of fidgeting, she retrieved the small metallic object, licked it and turned back to her superior officer. "I hope this works."

"Will you jus' relax?" He pinched the small device from her palm and lifted it between his thumb and forefinger. "Look at this lil' thang would'ja? It's so damn small. Welp, this is it. It's now or never." He closed his palm around it, loosely, and shook his fist as if he were about to roll a pair of dice. Bill lowered his muzzle and blew hot air into his fist then whispered, "C'mon, baby. Give daddy some right good luck." He moved his paws back towards her and nodded. Krystal came close, leaned forward and, emulating what he'd just done a moment prior, she blew gently into his paws then stepped back.

Grey tossed the small capsule between the laser bars. It bounced across the hallway floor, struck the bulkhead and came to a silent stop in the middle of the deck. Like Krystal, he held his breath. They both leered at the small object, no larger than a quarter, and waited.

As a precaution, the vixen clenched her eyelids. "Should we look away? Will it flash or...?" She grew quiet and fidgety, picking at her shirt. Without warning, the laser bars on both sides of the hallway went dark. The lights for the entire corridor went out.

He reached back and closed his fingers around her wrist. "Y'know, this means the visors on our helmets are going to be worthless now. Not intentional but unavoidable, if ya' know what I mean."

"How well can you see?" She sense he could make out things visually but couldn't determine how well or with how much detail he saw in the gloom.

"Enough to know it's damn dark in here."

The vixen jerked her wrist from his paw then grasped his forearm firmly. "I'll lead the way. We foxes have natural night vision." She moved around him and stepped out into the hallway then crossed the hall. With her other paw, she reached for their gear from the display case and passed him his belongings. Next, she pulled her helmet up over her head and secured the straps. "It's a shame they've taken the weapons. I hope you have a contingency plan."

"This is the backup plan, girl! C'mon, get us towards the flight deck. You remember which way to go?"

"No but you do... and I read minds." Her paw tightened on his forearm and she pulled for him to move to the right. With her other arm extended, she continued up the corridor until her fingers brushed something solid. She felt across the surface then wedged her fingernails between the sliding doors. Krystal released his forearm and used both of her paws to try and force the doors to open manually.

Bill placed a paw on her back then trailed his touch down her arm to her wrist and finally to the door. Realizing what she was trying to do, he began feeling along the metal surface in the dark. Attempting to follow her lead was difficult, however. Instead, he opted to stand directly behind her, with his chest against her back. Bill wrapped his arms around either side of her, ran his paws down over her arms until his fingertips met her paws. He trailed his nails over her fingers until he found the seam in the doors and helped to force them apart.

Between their combined strength, the powerless track-mounted doors began to slide on the metal rails. They opened little by little, allowing light to filter in from the other side. She gasped, sensing that they were staring at a quick-witted enemy. The man, a brownish-gray furred squirrel, went for his side arm and pulled it up without hesitation.

Hearing Krystal's gasp was enough to tell Bill what was about to happen. With his arms already around her, he brought his forearms around her torso, locking one just beneath her right clavicle and his left arm around her midriff. Grey kicked his right foot up, pushing off of the doorframe. The pair spilled backwards together with the senior-ranking pilot twisting at the hip. All in one smooth motion, he pulled her from the door and rolled over her protectively. A volley of blaster fire sailed in through the opening door with multiple shots striking the frame.

One of the rounds sailed over them harmlessly while another struck Bill in his shin, melting the bootleg to his uniform pants. His arms tightened around her form, seizing in pain. He wanted to shout but gritted his teeth instead. Both of them grew still and Krystal mentally scanned the area and the incoming enemy.

The squirrel squinted into the dark hallway. He stood in the door, shoving it the rest of the way open with his shoulder then pointed the gun straightforward. "Show yourselves!"

Rolling Bill onto his back, she brought her right leg straight up and kicked the blaster from the squirrel's paw. Somewhere in the back of her head, she heard it clatter across the deck plates in the dark. Her other leg reared back until her knee met the swell of her breast. She launched her left foot forth, stomping her heel into the guard's groin.

The squirrel dropped to his knees, breathless and unable to shout in pain or for help. Krystal pried herself from Bill's grasp, sat up and, using her forward momentum, lunged at the man who now knelt in the doorway. She sensed her enemy was blinded by tears and disoriented with pain. They tumbled together but his adrenaline spiked, allowing for a semi quick recovery.

They scrambled to their feet in unison and the man brought his paws to Krystal's throat, clutching her neck in his fists. The pain was intense and it cut blood flow to her head. She struggled to maintain consciousness, having been in similar situations from the forces of gravity when in the cockpit. Her training kicked in.

Krystal brought both of her paws up to the man's wrists hard, pushing them inwards with all of her strength. It confused his muscle response, allowing her to grip his wrists and pull them away from her neck in a quick, clean motion. Now, with her holding him by the forearms, she kicked him a second time, between his thighs. His eyes widened and he doubled forward. Guiding him down, she brought her knee up to meet his face, shattering his nose and front two teeth.

Her paws came together, interlacing her fingers to make one large fist. She lifted her arms then brought them down, hammering him hard at the nape of his neck. The guard's legs gave out and he fell face-first on the deck at her feet. To ensure he would stay down, she stomped on the back of his head and rendered him unconscious. Her head began to clear and she gasped, looking up at another guard.

The tiger's eyes were narrowed and he snarled. He brought his blaster to bear, flipped off the safety toggle and gazed down the length of the weapon. A dazzling red beam of energy tore from the darkened doorframe behind her. It raced through the void and struck the tiger above his left eye. The energy round erupted from the backside of his head and continued up against the far wall, near the ceiling. The large cat pivoted on his right heel. His left knee gave out and he spilled to the ground in silence. The blaster struck the deck and bounced noisily forward, coming to stop adjacent to the squirrel.

Krystal reached for it then glanced back at Bill, sitting in the door. She offered him a smile of appreciation then checked the power cell in the handle of her newly acquired pistol. "I hate that you're in so much pain."

"It's just a flesh wound and bruised pride." He put one paw against the left side of the doorframe then used his right wrist against the other, pointing his weapon towards the ground. He slithered up to his uninjured right knee then got to his feet and hobbled towards her.

"Goodness, I sense you're in excruciating pain," she murmured, hurrying to help.

"Nah. I passed a kidney stone once. High protein, low fiber diet... don't try it. That was way worse - trust me on that; bladder stones ain't a joke. C'mon, we don't have far to go." Grey stepped over the squirrel near the door and lowered his blaster's setting to 'stun' then shot the man in his backside, mumbling, "Pirate scum."

Krystal hurried to the door across the room, opened it then peered through. She looked back to Bill with a nod. "It's clear of people and surveillance equipment that I can see." She waited for him to catch up then rushed down the next corridor and stopped at the door. It swished open and she peered through. She waited.

Together, they stepped into the locker room outside of a flight deck designed for small shuttles. Krystal moved to the connecting section between the locker area and the hanger. Their fighters were side by side at the edge of the bay, barely a meter from the force field that separated the pressurized deck from the depths of space. She could see a long blue streak illuminated in the distance... part of the Sector X nebula.

A trio of men, varying in species, sat with two women at a card table in the far front of the hanger. The vixen cut her gaze back at Bill and whispered, "Five pirates in the corner. Three males, two females - they're all armed and playing a card game. You want me to go and gamble our way out of here?" She offered her superior officer a lame grin.

"Real funny. Start checking lockers for weapons."

Krystal moved back towards the metal containers and they began opening each one that didn't have a lock. Other than a rotten smelling bagged lunch and a dirty jacket, they found nothing. She looked to Bill and frowned. "We can sneak out to our ships... or we can try a preemptive strike. There's an alarm switch on the bulkhead by their table. What's our move?"

Grey reached a paw down to pamper his injured leg. "I'd say sneak to the ships if we can figure out how to take out these lights. Else, I'd rather find the armory and surprise them with grenades. If'n we could somehow get word out to Captain Lynx, I could have her shoot in a volley of torpedoes. These guys would run to their battle stations."

A frown marred her visage. "Ah, I see... The EMP affected the communicators in our helmets - we won't be able to call for her help until we're already in our fighters. Let me engage them."

"What?!" Bill jerked his head back, his ears perked and his whiskers flared out. "Are you joking, Major?"

"I can telepathically predict all their moves."

"Can you multi-task the actions of five enemies while coordinating your own? What about that guy who was about to shoot you? The tiger guy. No offense but he had you dead to rights, sure as can be."

Her voice lowered as if from embarrassment. "I was distracted."

"Were ya now?"

"I was worried your injuries were serious or even life threatening. I sensed your pain and I was distracted with worry."

Her words caught the greyhound off guard. "I beg yer' pardon? Your attention was on my pain?"

She shook her head somewhat. "I was worried your injuries were grave. I bottled my emotions to the best of my ability but... I was scared for you and wasn't focused on my fight. Let me do this, Bill. Please. Let me go out there and get us out of here." She lifted her left paw, palm up. "I'll need both guns to do it."

"Is that a fact," he murmured, more of a statement than a question. His eyes lowered to the weapon he held then cut to her extended paw. "Krystal, you're not thinking things through. If you get yourself into a situation, I'd be unable to help."

"I've considered that possibility. At that point, they would overcome me and kill me. They're pirates. They would see me wearing my helmet and see that I had two guns... the first thing they would do is surround my dead body and check me for whatever they could find. During that time, you'd head to your fighter, power up the computer and open fire on them. I'd already be dead so you would use your fighter's computer to boot my system then wirelessly send the computerized command for self-destruction. You'd leave and my fighter would count down on a timer then explode. No more pirates. At that point, you'd fall back to the Navy ship and..."

"Stop." He pushed the gun into her paw then removed his helmet. "If you die... yeah there would be some serious hell to pay for these crooks but then I'd have to deal with a seriously pissed off Fox McCloud and an equally enraged Panther Caruso. I'm not tryin' to play that game. How's your aim?"

"Women have steadier paws than men." She offered a lame grin and added, "On average."

"That a proven medical fact, young lady?" Bill released the weapon, completely relinquishing it to her. "If you get shot... you're done for. They don't keep their weapons on 'stun' and I don't want the burden of knowing I let the last Cerinian get herself killed."

She leaned forward and kissed the side of his face. "Long story short, Bill... you won't be killing the last Cerinian." Krystal nuzzled her nose against the soft, short fur of his face with a smile of confidence. "Look, I have no plans on checking out until after I make you see a girly movie with me. You're stuck in this deal - don't think you can get out of it so easy."

"Just go... before I change my mind." He closed both paws around his helmet and nodded to her. "Go on, now. I'll change it real fast if you don't hurry."

"I've been doing wind sprints at the track over the last three months. Watch close, so I can show you how this is done," she said with a saucy wink. "Those action movies you like won't do this justice." She pivoted on her heel and stormed out of the locker area at a full run. Meanwhile, Bill followed her out, keeping his helmet in his paws. He limped towards the fighters as quickly as he could but kept his eyes on the vixen.

Her tail billowed behind her, riding on the wake of her mad dash. Krystal lifted both blasters and began pulling the triggers as quickly as she could. The second shot struck the alarm switch panel. Her fourth shot caused one of the female pirates to collapse over the poker table. Cards flew into the air and chips spilled every which way with a cacophony of noise; some of them were pinned to side-turned table beneath the body draped over it.

One of the male guards, a Cornerian canine, targeted Bill in the background and fired his weapon. Gray lifted his helmet up and to the left, using it to deflect the incoming round. He continued to hobble towards the two Cornerian Standard Issue fighters.

Krystal's next shot pierced the guard through his snout, causing a splatter of brain matter to splash across the bulkhead and the damaged alarm control. The canine, a Labrador wearing a windbreaker, staggered into one of his shipmates, causing them to miss Krystal with their next shot.

The black-furred lab keeled over, in a pool of sanguine broth. The spreading soup poured over the deck plates, filling in the groves between the metallic tiles. Another one of her shots struck the adjacent male pirate, piercing his ribcage. Down he went.

The third male figure was a cougar. He put his foot up on one of the chairs and leapt over the backrest, making himself a difficult target. He collided with Krystal - the impact knocked both of them to the floor. Both of her blasters rattled across the ground, his own pistol was ejected from his grip.

Krystal rolled away from him, quickly got to her feet and lifted her paws defensively. He lunged up at her and she evaded while using her paws to push him away. As he leapt through the air, she tried using her knee to catch him but he was too quick and no connection was made. The cougar got back to his feet, snarled loudly then swiped at her with a fist full of sharp claws.

She ducked her head back then threw a hard jab. Her fist caught him in the eye and he countered with another over-aggressive swing at her head. Five enormous claws grazed the top of her helmet, eviscerating the armored metal lining. She could feel cool air through her hair and went for another punch. Her fist met with his throat, fazing the bulky feline.

Her adversary let off an irritated roar and lifted his arms then brought both paws down in an attempt to catch her with a vertical slash. Krystal grunted as she dove towards the poker table. Her right palm met the floor, misjudging where a blaster lay. She'd intended to pick it up during her half-cartwheel but missed the weapon completely. Overcompensating in the maneuver, she stumbled and dropped flat on her feet ungracefully.

The cougar whirled about and came at her. Krystal snagged a chair by its backrest and swung it with all her might. The inner chi stored within her body was released via the conductive object, through the way of her people, Dahn Daju (Chapter 4, Reflections of Krystal). The metal chair collided with the large cat's head with incredible force. The world around her froze as if held within a bubble of time. Down went the cougar, his head crashing to the floor. She stood there, watching; transfixed.

It was like that one time, so many years ago, in the Cornerian grocery store with Fox. The large container of milk struck the tile floor. One never realized how much liquid the jug actually held until they saw it spreading across the ground like a dairy flood. The flit of a flashback held no candle of comparison. Apparently a person's head holds a lot more blood than a jug does milk.

The macabre image was striking and magnificently colorful. Her left paw found her knee and she hunched over, dropping the twisted remains of the folding chair. She gulped in air that burned her throat with each swallow. Her heart was working on an escape plan to pound its way out of her chest and she stood there, half hunched over, paralyzed from the image. His cold glare was empty and accusing, accented by the slight gape of his slack jaw.

Blood began to pool around the cougar's head like an unholy aura. The watery light from the nearby force field played across his face, making his eyes shine in death.

Krystal staggered back, both paws covering her mouth. Out of the corner of her glassy gaze, the other female pirate stood up from behind the overturned card table with the dead woman draped over it. Everything felt surreal. A single poker chip slid out from beneath the body that was doubled over the side-turned table. The plastic chip protractedly spiraled through the air, struck the deck and splashed in the crimson coating that pooled at their feet. Everything happened in slow motion before Krystal's emerald hues. Both women gawked at one another.

Seeing Krystal unarmed, she went for her sidearm. Sensing the woman's intentions then actually seeing her carry out those actions created the sensation of déjà vu. The vixen lifted her paws to the left and right to steady herself, ready for anything. She took a step back.

The other woman, some generic breed of canine, pulled at the handle of her pistol, un-holstering the weapon.

Krystal's ear flickered, hearing the unforgettable whisper of a weapon being withdrawn from its Kydex sheath - as subtle as the sound of sand strewn across a deck plate. The pirate lifted the weapon and, in return, Krystal took another step back, leaving a gooey footprint in her wake. There was a distant throbbing in her temples.

The woman gritted her teeth, showing a flash of fang. She closed one eye, lifting the pistol and gazing down the length of the barrel.

The telepathic fox couldn't focus on a single thought. Her glassy green eyes flitted from left to right, looking for options. All sound around her was a low, distant roar. Her heavy, hollow footfall on the blood-splattered deck was a thunderous thump that caused her ear to flicker again. Krystal took another step back, moving away from the pirate and her gun.

It was then that the vixen noticed the oddest thing... right there, right then, in that infinitesimal yet infinite second. She noticed that the woman with the gun had a peculiar distinguishing feature... the fur strands of her face and arms lifted as if drawn up by static electricity.

...Suddenly time exploded forward at full speed. A fully charged plasma round from a Cornerian fighter slammed into the back wall, decimating the enemy. The poker table disintegrated, causing ashy remains to float up. The intense, illuminated discharge dissipated with no sign of the attacker. Krystal's eyes lowered to the smoldering rubber of the woman's boots - her eyes widened in realization that the gunner was vaporized completely. The heat of the round had caused the blood on the deck plates to congeal. Again, Krystal staggered back, dazed from what had just happened.

A sharp voice reverberated in her frontal lobe, startling her back to reality. Bill shouted her name from his cockpit and she heard his confused shout within her mind. Again, she took another step back only to slip in the slimy red liquid all around her soles. She threw her arms outwards to steady herself then turned about slowly. Krystal kept her eyes upwards, towards the fighters, so as to break temptation - a small part of her felt compelled to look back at the men whose blood now mixed beneath her feet.

With a tightening of the jaw, she forced her inner resolve by overcoming the situation with sheer willpower. She made careful, firm-footed steps back to the far end of the small hanger. With every confident footfall, her pace quickened. By the time she was halfway across the deck, the vixen was in full run, with dissipating red prints in her wake. She bent her knees then leapt into the air. Down she came, pouncing the hull in front of her cockpit. The canopy lifted and she vaulted into it then she drew shut the glass bubble.

"What the hell just happened?" Bill's face showed up on her holographic HUD display. He was impressed by her athletic leap but consciously reminded himself that foxes were naturally good jumpers.

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied quietly while booting up the computer. "Let's get out of here." The weapon's system came online. A message raced over the holographic Heads Up Display, showing, 'Tactical systems: Ready'. Without delay, Krystal armed a missile. "Shut off the force field, please."

Bill's fighter lifted from the ground and turned about. With a few well-placed shots, the field fizzled out, causing both fighters to be blown into space. As Krystal's fighter passed back from the hanger, she fired her missile directly into the bay. It exploded before any of the bodies could be drawn into the void.

A vibrant orange ball ruptured from the top of the freighter. The fiery blast imploded and became immediately extinguished once it hit the vacuum of space. Glittery debris rushed out through the newly made hole atop the cargo freighter, where the new hull breach was located. Running lights and illuminated portholes flickered in offbeat rhythms throughout various parts of the ship... everything went dark and the vessel began listing hard to port.

"I think that worked," said Bill. "My sensors show the core heating up rapidly. I think it's about to go super-critical."

Krystal pulled down the polarized visor of her helmet to protect her eyes. She gasped, seeing a splash of garnet splayed across. The horrified vixen found herself looking through the blood of her enemy, smeared from left to right on the glassy surface. She shut her eyes and pulled at the helmet straps beneath her chin. As she did, she felt warmth on her fur from an enormous flash... The helmet came off and her eyes opened, looking out at the remains of the bespeckled frigate, post implosion. Debris shimmered and sparkled in the light of the Sector X nebula, looking like a halo of glitter around the remains of the cargo ship. Plasma fires flickered in the burnt-out portholes and licked up the side of the ship from multiple hull breaches. They burned bright and hot, indifferent to the cold lack of atmosphere.

"That's one way to stop those idiots but... get your head back in the game. You said you promised me you could focus - do it. Break and attack all targets."

Krystal shoved the helmet behind her seat. It thudded against the panel behind her backrest. She placed her paws on either side of the canopy to brace herself then shook hard. The emerald headdress bounced back and forth over her forehead. A deep breath was taken, followed by a sigh. "I ...had a quick reminder why I make a better pilot than a soldier. I'm sorry I was dazed for a moment. I just... all I want to do right now is wash my hands."

A higher-pitched effeminate voice came over their communication's channel. "This is the Cornerian Naval Destroyer, CDF Saratoga - the sensor glitch in our tac-sat array has just cleared up. I say again, the sensor glitch in our tactical satellite array has become crystal clear. We're moving to assist."

Bill cleared his throat. "They've got a well armed tugboat for moving the freighter we just took down. It's larded up with defense turrets, Captain Lynx. Maybe you can punch a long-distance hole through that thing for us. That'd be right neighborly of ya'. I might even try to remember a line or two of Anchors Away if you can help with that."

"As much as I can't stand that tune," said Captain Lynx, "I'd pay good money to hear an Air Force boy try to sing it... We'll take care of that tug if you two can take care of the fighter cover."

"Much obliged!"

Krystal closed her right paw around the flight stick and firmly gripped the throttle bar in her left. She tightened her jaw then opened a private channel to Bill. "No more gory thriller movies, Bill. I mean it."

"Everything okay?"

"I saw a lot of real blood. A lot. I thought those movies were over-exaggerating that much blood, like the one scene where the guy lost his head... I just saw that insanity for real. Now I think the moviemakers didn't use enough to give a decapitation scene the justice it requires. I've never seen so much in my life, Bill. I feel lightheaded. My stomach is queasy."

"That's a side effect from the adrenaline. For now, we're going to focus on something else. So, uh... what's your favorite part of a good chick flick? The ending? Is it the suspense building? Tell me about one."

"Oh bull, you don't want to hear about that," she groused yet glad for his help. "But to be honest, the happy endings are just ways for the writers to solidify fuzzy and warm feelings." Her words made it obvious that his tactic helped. "No, the best part is the climatic scenes, where the boy and the girl realize they can't live without one another... and they usually come to this conclusion together... which, while cheesy, is something women think about.

"Fighter on your five o'clock. He's powering up his weapons and I'm not in range."

Her professional demeanor returned and the queasiness was temporarily forgotten. "Got it," said Krystal. She released a chaff pod then vented the plasma exhaust from her engines, causing the ignited wake to sparkle amongst the glittering chaff. The throttle bar was drawn back and she fired the retro-reverse brakes. The confused enemy blew by, entering her cone of fire. Krystal began mashing down her right thumb, sending dual blaster fire into the enemy's engine compartment.

Speeding back up to stay with her target, she got above him for superiority and control. From her position, she could see that the fighter's cockpit was bathed in red from all the alarm systems flashing within the canopy. She swallowed again, imagining other reasons why the interior of his cockpit might have been such a tacky coloration - was it blood? She was forced to endure a flashback from that cougar on the hanger deck. A shudder raced up her spine and she opened fire from above, finishing the job. The fighter blew apart in a burst of plasma fire and metallic scraps.

"I see the rest of the group way up ahead, Bill. Their intent is to escape with their lives."

"That's it, then. Form up on my wing. Leave'em go so Corneria has something to trail on their sensor network. Maybe those guys will lead the Intelligence department back to their ...wherever they go. All that's left is the tug."

From the distant void, a brilliant golden glow ripped through space. It passed the two fighters and struck the over-armed tugboat from a great distance. The powerful blast sliced straight through the enemy ship, causing it to fragment before complete destruction occurred.

Bill wanted to keep her mind active on something other than thinking about dead enemy guards. "Debriefing aside, what're you going to do when we get back to base? Hot bath?"

"Before all that, I really need to talk to someone," she admitted sourly.

"You want a shoulder?"

Krystal nodded, knowing he could see her visual over his HUD. She looked away then frowned. "Not you, no offense. I was thinking a really good councilor who knows about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don't want to be thinking about what happened today... I want to get it off my chest and move on. I'll be damned if I'm going to let this sit in my head tonight and every night onward."

"You've got it." He licked his lips, took a deep breath and, just to show that he was a man of his word, began to recite what little he knew of the song, Anchors Away for Captain Lynx.

Oddly, it helped relax the vixen by putting her mind elsewhere for the time being...