Better almost late than never, right?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and please read and review if you wish! God bless, and be safe! Thank you for your time!

Krystal opened her eyes. The unfamiliar-and hopefully one day familiar-ceiling of her room in the Great Fox greeted her.

She looked over at her clock, and sighed. Really? Not even halfway through nightcycle yet? And nothing but a whole four hours of waiting to fall asleep again? Lovely.

Yawning, she sat up in bed, and looked at the stars. Even after three weeks of being on the team, the sight outside her viewport was stunning. And to think it might be more silent out there than her room. That was hard to grasp.

She was thirsty.

"Well, if I'm going to stay up..." she said, while getting out of bed. She put on a bra and panties and a bathrobe and walked out her door, and down the silent metallic halls of the Great Fox's residential wing. She envied her teammates for sleeping peacefully. As she passed Falco's room she could hear the birdbrain snoring obnoxiously. She glared at his door, than continued.

She stopped by the door to Fox's room. She smiled at it, feeling that Fox was sleeping peacefully, and wished him sweet dreams. She continued onward.

A few minutes later she arrived at the kitchen, and was surprised to find that she wasn't alone. Peppy sat at the dinner table, reading a book and drinking a glass of milk. He looked up at her in surprise, but then smiled warmly.

"Krystal?" he said. "Couldn't sleep?"

"How'd you guess?" she said, smiling a little herself. "The same for you too?"

"Yes. Sometimes you can't catch a wink," he said, taking a sip of his milk. "With times like these I just come here and read. It's nice to have some company though."

"I'm glad something good can come out of me missing some sleep," said Krystal, sitting down next to him after she'd gotten a glass of water.

"Well, I've been up late with at least one other member of our merry band at least once while I've been on the team," said Peppy. "Sometimes Fox just doesn't feel like going to bed and just comes here to think. Falco grabs a drink, and Slippy just works on the Great Fox's systems with ROB. You've joined a proud tradition."

"I'm guessing this happened when Fox's father lead the team?" Krystal asked mirthfully.

She felt guilty when she saw a faraway look appear in Peppy's eye as he stared at nothing in particular. "Yes," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's fine," said Peppy. "I still think about James a lot, so you aren't unearthing anything. He was my best friend. I'll never forget him. If I do, he'll come back from the grave and beat me senseless until I remember again."

The two sat in a moment of silence.

"What was James like?" Krystal asked.

"He was quite the man," said Peppy, smirking. "I'm guessing Fox told you about him?"

Krystal smiled warmly. "Fox told me about his past, including his father, when I told him mine. He wanted to make it easier for me, if I wanted to talk about it."

"That's Fox for you," said Peppy, a proud gleam in his eye.

"Yes," said Krystal. "But, you knew him for longer than Fox did. What...what was he like, Peppy?"

Peppy looked out the closest viewport at the stars. He took a sip of his milk, and closed his book.

"Fancy a bedtime story, Krystal?" he said.

Krystal blinked. "Huh?" she asked.

Peppy chuckled. "I like telling the story of how James and I met. It will tell you plenty about what kind of man he was, and why he's dear to me. And it's a nice way to make the time fly."

Krystal leaned her ears forward and wagged her tail. "Peppy, I'd love that," she said.

"Well, then," Peppy began, "Like all stories, it needs a beginning. Many, many years ago, I was born, and-"

She gave him a look, and Peppy just chuckled. "Just kidding. Don't worry, I wouldn't put you through that. The real beginning to this story ought to be at the moment when I first met James. It was right at the time I enrolled in the Cornerian Flight Academy..."

Room number B26. That's what the card said.

Peppy looked at the number on the dorm room door, the same number on the card. B26. That number had a lot of weight now. It was the number of his first home at the academy, the beginning of a four year-long journey. At 18, he felt fidgety, nervous. But he was also excited. Greatly excited. And curious to meet his roommate.

One James McCloud. He had been notified about him via email.

Taking a deep breath, he inserted his key into the lock, and opened the door.

It was a humble-looking room. Square shaped, with two beds on either side, with matching night stands at beside. Two writing desks sat at opposite walls, as did closet doors. Nothing terribly fancy. But not rundown either. It didn't feel like home, but Peppy figured it would with time.

On the far side of the room there were posters on the wall. Some of them were of various aircraft models. Peppy was proud to say he recognized a few of them. Some were of past models of Cornerian fighter craft. Others were models from other planets. The other posters were of pictures of rock bands, and still more were movie posters. Accompanying them was a small bookshelf.

"Well, James must already have moved in," Peppy thought, grinning. "Seems he likes aircraft and music, and movies. I wonder what he's like in person-"

A noise coming from the other closet interrupted him. The sound of snoring.

Peppy's left ear twitched. Turning slowly he looked towards his roommates closet, right where the sound of snoring was drifting from.

"What in the world...?" Peppy whispered, walking over to the closet door and gripping the handle. "Who is...?"

He opened the door, and stepped back in shock when the sleeping form of a vulpine fell over onto the ground, snoring peacefully. The figure, a male, even had drool dripping from the side of his muzzle. His fur was a light blond, with a white strip down the middle of his head.

Peppy stood there awkwardly. This, apparently, was James McCloud.

Well, he thought, It would be pretty rude of me to just leave him here sleeping. He went for a gentle approach, leaning down and calling to him.

"Hey?" he said, "Um...are you alright?"

Peppy was surprised when he saw the vulpine's eyes blink open a little. His ears twitched t0o, as did his bushy tail. The vulpine looked up at him steadily.

"Oh. Hello," said the figure. "Who are you?"

Peppy thought this to be one of the more surreal experiences of his life.

"I'm...I'm Peppy Hare. Are you James? James McCloud?" he asked.

The vulpine sat up, and looked at him with a striking grin. "That would be me! And who are you?"

Peppy smiled too. There was something about that grin. "I'm your roommate," he said.

"Oh," said James.

James blinked.

"Oh!" James cried out. "Oh shoot, this looks bad doesn't it?" He stood up and steadied himself when he wobbled a little. "My parents keep telling me about good first impressions. And wow, this one has been great, hasn't it?"

"It's the most unique one I've ever experienced," said Peppy. "You usually don't meet people falling out of a closet. This would be a first."

"Well, you can thank Roger Grey for that," said James, walking over to his own bed and sitting on it. "We went out partying for a bit. Celebrating the start of classes. His way of dropping me off after I got too out of it was dumping me in my closet. Hilarious," he finished, rolling his eyes.

"Were you drunk?" Peppy asked, setting his bags down on his bed, giving James a look. "You know you could get in trouble."

"We were careful about it. Besides, it was Grey's place! His parents know me. I must have had a little too much, and I guess I was pretty sleepy," answered James, rubbing the back of his head.

"You were sleeping pretty soundly," said Peppy.

"I least I slept at all. But that's all besides the point! So, you're going to be my roommate on the first stepping stone of me becoming a flyboy, eh?"

His confidence, like his grin, had a special quality; Peppy immediately concluded this. He couldn't help but smile again.

"This is a stepping stone for both of us," Peppy answered. "It's exciting."

"Yup!" James answered. "So, you're name is Peppy, huh?"

James leaned forward, propping his head with his hands and still wearing that eager grin.

"Tell me about yourself," he asked.

"I can't believe you met him like that!" said Krystal, trying to control her giggling.

"Looking back, it's more hilarious considering how close we would become," said Peppy, chuckling himself. "James could be quite the party animal when he wanted to be. He was a daring person overall. With my more reserved attitude, you'd think we couldn't be friends. And yet we were."

Peppy took a sip of his milk. "It was like fate was pushing us to be friends. Considering the way our class schedules looked..."

"So you're in just about all my classes, huh?" said James, looking over his schedule while he lay on in his bed, drinking soda. "That's nice! At least I'll have someone I know in their with me, in those massive and intimidating lecture halls."

Peppy nodded while he looked up class information on his laptop. "Indeed. We can sit next to each other in the classes we both have. As long as we don't distract one another," he replied.

"I knew you'd say something like that, Pepp," said James, "You're gonna be the one to keep me in line, I feel."

"Pepp?" Peppy asked.

"A nickname I thought for you. You like it?" James asked.

There was no hint of teasing or belittling that came with the nickname. "I do, actually. And what do you mean by knowing I'd say something like that?" he asked.

"Well, you look like the kind of person with a good head on their shoulders. The smart guy. Every group of friends needs one," James answered.

"Friend?" Peppy asked. "You consider me a friend already?"

"Of course," said James cheerfully. Peppy looked over at him to see him smiling his signature smile. "I like you. You wanna be friends?"

It was such a sincere request that Peppy couldn't help but smile back. "I'd...I'd like that, James. Sure."

"Cool!" said James. "Now I have someone I can heap homework on!"

"Oh really now?" said Peppy dryly.

"Yup!" said James. The vulpine went back too looking over his schedule, as did Peppy. Most of his beginning courses as a Freshmen included courses on Cornerian Airforce history, the basics of Cornerian Aircraft, and Physical Exercise courses. Nothing on actual simulations. Evidently James had just found that detail, because Peppy heard a sigh.

"No sims?" James asked. "What, isn't this an Air Academy?"

"They aren't going to throw freshmen into sims, James," Peppy replied. "Too soon. That stuff will begin when we're sophomores, most likely."

"But we only have four years here," said James. "It's a waste of time to not get our feet wet."

"Only four ears?" Peppy asked, twitching an ear.

"My dad said that your college or academy days go by quick," said James. "I don't want to waste any time."

Peppy supposed there was wisdom in that. He heard the same from his own father.

"I want to get out there and help people, in the Airforce," said James wistfully. "I've always wanted to fly, and I've always wanted to make a difference. This way I can."

Peppy smiled warmly at James. "That's a good goal," he said.

James looked bashful for a moment, before looking back at Peppy. "Thanks Pepp. That...that means a lot. Tell me man, why do want to join the Airforce?"

Peppy leaned back in his chair, and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Oh, my father was a airmen in his day. I've always looked up to my father. I want to be like him and serve my planet. I think there would be no greater honor."

"That's a good goal too, Pepp," James replied. "Seems we're both into this for the right reasons."

"Yeah," said Peppy. "We are."

"James was good on his dedication to his goal," said Peppy as looked out the viewport window. "Despite his apparent wild-child like attitude, he was a good learner and prospective pilot. And we helped each other plenty. By the end of our freshmen year, we were already near the top of our class. By the end of our sophomore year, we were at the top. And very close friends."

"I expected nothing less from Fox's father," said Krystal. "Fox is a splendid pilot, as are you."

"No need to brown nose, Krystal," said Peppy jovially. "But anyway, those years that followed during our academy years were great fun. Plenty of things happened during those years. We made friends, had our differences, and even sometimes fought a little, but James was my best friend through and through. Heck, during the summer we'd visit each other endlessly. Our families became friends as well.

Krystal smiled at this. It was so apparent with the look in Peppy's eyes that James had been special to him.

Another though occurred to her.

"Peppy," she asked, "You were one of Star Fox's founding members right?"

"Yes," Peppy said, nodding.

"How did you and James come together with the idea for Star Fox?" Krystal asked. "It seemed you and James were on track for being a part of the Cornerian Airforce.

Peppy took another sip of his milk. "We were. But...well, the year James came up with idea was our senior year. At that point, cadets are authorized to fly actual airforce engagements. At least, the top percent are. That included us. So we flew missions together.

"One day, me and James were called in to assist with the offensive against a pirate base on Macbeth. It was after that mission that James first had the ideas of Star Fox. Why? Well, because I almost died…"

Macbeth was not a scenic planet. Sure, at first the high mountains and low canyons looked majestic, but at some point one would realize that those two features were the only thing Macbeth had to offer with sightseeing.

There were of course the plains too. And those were just dreary.

But to Peppy the Macbethian landscape was the most interesting thing in Lylat. Even though his Cornerian A12 fighter had radar, he eyeballed the surface. He didn't want to be surprised, as pirates could be pretty crafty.

"See anything, anyone?" Their squadron leader asked.

"Negative," Peppy asked, restless.

"Same here," James replied, an edge in his voice as well.

The other pilots in their group responded with the same news.

"I don't like this," Peppy reported. "At this point pirates ought to expect offensives like this. Why don't they have any forward force to meet us?"

"Not every pirate crew has a genius, Pepp," James replied. "Though I will admit it's kinda spooky how quiet it is."

"Cut the chatter," their leader replied. "Be on your guard, everyone."

They continued to fly to their target in silence.

Peppy prided himself on managing to keep a cool head under pressure. But this was only his fifth combat mission, and silence and calm was starting to get to his nerves. He wasn't going to panic, but even getting a little twitchy was enough to perturb him.

"You okay Pepp?" James asked.

Peppy about jumped in his seat. "James! What are you doing? Squadron leader told us to cut the chatter," he replied.

"We're on private comm, so it's fine!" James replied cheerfully.

"And that is insubordination," Peppy replied, rolling his eyes.

"Is it insubordination when I'm asking if my partner is alright, because I'm worried?" James asked.

Peppy sighed. "It still is, though your good intentions are acknowledged. I'm just nervous with how quiet it is," he sighed.

"I am too, but you gotta relax Pepp. We'll be fine. I've got your back," said James.

It was the way he said it that calmed Peppy the most. The certainty. Peppy smiled.

"All right, I feel better. Now cut the chatter before we get in trouble," Peppy said.

"Roger that," James said happily.

More flying in silence, with Peppy feeling better. But his nerves were piqued again with the sight of a group of red dots on his radar.

"There they are!" the squadron leader shouted. "Let's clean this up, people. Remember, the base itself is inside of the mountain. A couple of Nova Bombs into the hanger should be enough to cripple them. No one get sloppy, alright?"

"Roger," They all replied.

The battles ensued immediately. Peppy gritted his teeth, concentrated, and remembered everything he had learned both inside and outside the classroom. Barrel rolling, chasing, noticing the details of the pirate's maneuvers. Through observation he was able to notice that the pirates were reckless flyers, underestimating the Cornerian pilots because they had a numbers advantage. Peppy smirked confidently, a habit he'd picked up from James. The pirates would pay for underestimating them.

And they did. Only five minutes into the engagement and the pirates were feeling their losses. Peppy tailed a pirate Interceptor, painting it with laser fire before boosting through the wreckage, his cockpit rumbling.

"Hold on, Peppy," said James, "One's trying to get a bead on ya. Gonna fix that."

Peppy looked over his shoulder. Indeed, an Intercepter was behind him. Only for a few seconds. Right as it settled behind him it exploded, and a Cornerian A12 went sailing by.

"Okay cool," said James. "Get good, Peppy. This backpack is heavy."

"Sure it is," said Peppy, rolling his eyes. With any other pilot that cockiness might have bothered him. But James could back up any trash talk he wanted.

Two minutes later the pirate hangers were alight, courtesy of nova bombs. The pilots whooped and hollered, and they headed off for home.

Well," said their squadron leader, "that's a wrap. Good work everyone. Hare, McCloud, that was impressive work back there. I expect great things from both of you."

"Thank you sir," said Peppy.

"Same here. Thank you, sir," said James.

It was right as James finished that sentence that alarms started going off in Peppy's cockpit. He jumped in his seat, and looked to his radar. His jaw dropped.

"Enemy reinforcements!" Peppy screamed, "their-"

His A12 shook, another alarm going off and adding to cacophony. His shields were completely gone. Another alarm went off, telling him he was locked on.

"Peppy!" James screamed, "bank left!"

It was almost automatic. Peppy jammed the stick to the left as hard as he could. For a split second he thought he had invaded whatever was tracking him, but an explosion that shook his craft let him now he was too late. He looked to the right, to find that about half of his wing was gone.

He was out of formation. Red dots on his radar moved to surround him, his own teammates green dots moving farther and farther away.

"We need to retreat!" yelled his squadron leader. "There's too many of them, and we've caught by surprise. We need to regroup at the base and gather reinforcements!"

"Peppy," James yelled, "Peppy, are you alright?"

"It's too late for that, McCloud!" cried the squadron leader, making Peppy's blood run cold, "Stay in formation and-"

"To hell with that!" James replied.

One of green dots on his radar boosted forward slightly, before heading turning around and heading his way. A U-Turn, Peppy realized.

"Peppy, I'm coming!" James yelled.

"McCloud, you get back here-" yelled the squadron leader.

"Forget those orders, I am not leaving a friend! Call in the reinforcements!" James replied.

It was only one other fighter. His ship was crippled, and his shield were still recharging. They were outnumbered.

It had always occurred to Peppy that he might die in combat. But that seemed so far off. You don't die until you have experience, right?

Why was this happening now?

An explosion behind him woke Peppy up from his stupor

"That's three down!" James yelled over the comm. "Stay with me Pepp! Form up on me once your are shields are back up, alright?"

In any other situation, he'd tell James to calm down. That he was only a new pilot, not the hotshot he thought he was. That was his dynamic in their friendship; to bring James back down to earth.

But James didn't sound like a rookie at that moment, Peppy found. The confidence-and assurance-in that voice brought him back into the battle with clarity only a leader could give.

"Right," Peppy replied.

His console beeped. Shields were back online. His wing was gone, but he'd been taught how to fly in emergency situations. He was prepared for this.

"We're getting out of this alive, alright?" said James, "After this we're gonna get yelled at, but we are getting out of this, okay Pepp?"

"Alright, James," said Peppy as calmly as he could manage. "I believe you."

"That's what I need you to do," said James, right as he destroyed another Interceptor, "That's it."

"Do you understand the concept of orders, Mr. McCloud!?"

The shout had come from inside the academy's president's office, and Peppy flinched as he sat on a chair in the lobby, biting his nails and wondering how James was holding up.

Reinforcements had arrived during the battle. Shortly after James re-engaged to save Peppy's life, their squadron leader had radioed in reinforcements as they frantically fought the remaining pirate forces. It was a hard fight; Peppy hated that he was missing a wing, keeping him from fighting at full efficiency. Their sqaudmates took some heavy damage as well, and at some points it looked hopeless. But the reinforcements came.

Peppy knew his team would wonder how they did it. His answer was simple. It had been James. His friend had flown his heart out in that engagement, making that A12 fly better than it had any business to. Out-maneuvering every single Interceptor that dared to get behind his own A12, and the ones of his squadmates.

When the arrived back at the base, they were hurried back to Corneria. Then to the Airforce Academy, and now to here, were James was getting an earful. As for himself, he opted to stay to give moral support for James once he walked out.

And he needed to thank James. And he needed to think.

Orders were orders in military work, it was said. He had that attitude when he entered the academy. Still had it even after all his years with James. And now, in this mission, that attitude had nearly gotten him killed.

If James hadn't been in his squadron, he would have been left to die.

The door to the President's office opened, and James stepped out, his face impassive. The door shut behind him.

James just looked at him.

"Peppy," he said, "I need a drink. And I need you to come with me."

It was sudden, but that didn't matter. He nodded, and settled into walking behind him.

The little bar they always went to was farther away from the academy then the bar Airforce cadets frequented, as Peppy and James liked to avoid the crowd. This bar was practically a hole in the wall, named "Davidsons," but it was a comfortable, quiet place most nights. The barkeep knew the two of them by name. As soon as they stepped inside, the barkeep looked at them and whistled lowly.

"James, you look like hell. You too Peppy," he said. "Sit down, you two, whatever you'd like is on the house."

"Thank you," said Peppy, as they sat together at the bar.

Their drinks came. For a long time they didn't say anything, just nursed their alcohol. Peppy let himself get lost in thought, shuttering when his mind wondered into the scene of a funeral that could have been, until James spoke.

"They wanted me to leave you to die," James said.

Peppy nodded.

"They said that one man is not as important as the entire squadron. Or as the entire mission," James said again.

Reflexively Peppy almost affirmed that. But after what happened, he just couldn't.

"And that's all just a load of crap!" James yelled, banging his fist on the barstool and growling. "They seriously expected me to just run off and turn tail while my best-freaking-friend is picked apart by pirates!"

Again, Peppy just nodded.

"That's...that's madness," said James quietly, calming down. "I'd never abandon you, Peppy."

Just like always, Peppy knew James meant that.

"James?" he said.

"Yeah, Pepp?" answered James.

"Thank you," he said, looking to James. "I...I don't know how to say it to properly reflect the gravity of what happened, but...thank you."

James just smiled. "Never feel like you have to thank me, Peppy. I always got your back."

They sipped their drinks in silence again.

"You know," said James suddenly, "I don't think I can join the Airforce now."

Peppy looked sharply at James. "Is that what the president said to you?"

"Huh? No," said James, shaking his head, "The President only took me out of the top percent of the class, and said I'd lose any promotion I'd receive upon joining the Airforce after graduation. But that doesn't matter now. I'm not joining up."

"James...are you sure this isn't the alcohol talking?" Peppy asked.

James looked him in the eye. It was not the stare of an inebriated man. His piercing emerald eyes were focused. "No," he said steadily, "I can't join with an organization that would force me to leave a friend behind."

James took a sip of his drink. "I know I said to you all those ears ago—gosh it seems so long ago, huh?—when we first met, that my dream was to join the Airforce so I could help people. Well, Peppy, I can't join an organization that, even though would allow me to help people, would also tell me to leave a friend behind if the situation called for it. I can't do that, Peppy. I just can't. I don't have it in me. I never want to have that in me."

"How will you accomplish that dream, then?" Peppy asked.

James took a sip of his drink again, and stared off in thought.

"I want to fly," said James.

Peppy nodded, and leaned forward to listen.

"I want...wouldn't it be great if their were some kind of fighting force that existed outside of the Cornerian Airforce? That could make their own rules? That could go around helping people? And be heroes?" said James.

"You read a lot of comic books, James," said Peppy, chuckling.

"Peppy," said James, looking at him with complete seriousness, "think about that. Think how much good could be done."

So Peppy thought about it. A private fighting force. Keeping peace in Lylat. Outside of Airforce Law, but still lawful in it's own ways.

It was a pleasant image. Maybe it was because he saw James as the leader, but it was so clear. James, so confident and brave, leading a team of aces to keep the system safe. A very powerful image, romantic like an adventure story.

And too Peppy's own shock, he saw himself, at James side, fighting with him.

And abruptly this image led to him knowing that if it had been James in his own situation with the pirates...he very well knew he couldn't have obeyed that order.

"It's..." began Peppy.

"Well?" James pressed.

"It's...an amazing thought, James," Peppy answered honestly. "And I would want to be a part of it."

James looked shocked at first. But eventually that grin of his found it's way to his muzzle, and James wrapped an arm around him and patted his back.

"And that's how it happened," said Peppy, smiling wistfully. "James, that rascal. Pulling me into his romantic notions."

Krystal just smiled warmly. She could see it all so clearly, despite never having met James. The smile, the confidence.

Both of those things, in fact, that she could see in Fox. He truly was his father's son.

"He must have been a wonderful friend," said Krystal.

"He was," said Peppy, "He was the greatest friend I ever had, and he continues to amaze me to this day. I am very blessed to have known him."

Krystal could sense the sadness as it formed in Peppy's mind, as he sighed and lowered his gaze. She sat next to him and held his hand.

"Thank you," said Peppy. "It's...it's always hard to arrive at the reality that he's gone."

"But he isn't truly," said Krystal. "He lives on in your memories. And you will always have them."

Peppy sighed again, but smiled a small smile. "That is true. And now, you will have a story about him. And Fox has all his memories. James...James still lives with the stories and memories I have. I can give at least a something of those memories to people I just..." he said.

"What?" Krystal whispered.

"I just wish he was still here," Peppy whispered.

Krystal saw a tear travel down Peppy's cheek.

It was the first time she had ever seen Peppy cry. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, letting him lean on her as he cried silently. Cried for not only a true friend, but also the greatest man he had ever known.