The door slid open, and Marcus entered the Observation Deck, with its large plasteel windows offering a view of the interstellar space that surrounded the starship. The light from distant celestial bodies filtered through, throwing shadows from the furniture and machinery, casting shadows on the wall and bathing the deck in silvery light.

In the room there was another figure, sitting on a rotating chair, leaning back lazily and with his feet on the windows. The falcon sitting on the chair was wearing sunglasses, and looking outside the windows, as if meditating.

"How'd I do?" asked Marcus casually, taking a few steps inside, the door closing behind him. The falcon didn't look at him as he answered.

"You did great, kid," he began, without looking at him. "You did great. I think you may actually be better than your father. But," he added, the corners of his beak curling into a grin. "still not as good as me."

With that, the falcon turned around to face the fox.

"As I said, you did great, except for the fact that you go too fast. Keep it up like that; you'll run of fuel and your Arwing is going to shut down in space and you'll be screwed."

"Yeah, sorry about that, Falco," he replied. "And better than my father? Do you-"

Before Marcus finished, Falco cut him off.

"Don't go getting notions, son. Fox McCloud was famous, but he sure as hell wasn't the best pilot. I would know. I flew with him."

"My father-" began Marcus in defense, but again, the older man cut him off.

"Stuff it. Fox wasn't as great as he thought he was," he said dismissively, and then, more sternly, "and you better not turn out like him."

And with that, the falcon swung his chair to face the windows again, and he put his feet up on them again.

"Go. You have nothing else to do today," he said, waving his wing lazily in a dismissing motion.

The fox nodded, but didn't leave, staying in the observation deck, simply watching the other man.

After a while, the falcon swung around in his chair, scowling.

"You're still here. What is it?"

"Just curiosity," Marcus began, walking towards the falcon. "I thought you were friends with my dad, and yet you constantly bash on him," he said, a little curious, and somewhat angry that Falco was putting down his father.

"I'm curious," he went on, approaching the falcon, who simply stared back at him from behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes looking straight ahead, without any real focus.

"I just want to know what you got 'gainst my dad. I've seen the pictures of you two together, the ones they took when you guys were in the Andross War, all holding each others' shoulders, laughing. I just want to know," he finished.

There was silence, and he stood there triumphantly, expecting the elder falcon to speak. Instead, the avian began to laugh with a throaty chuckle which grew into full-blown laughing.

The fox felt as though he had been deflated, his sense of triumph replaced with some self-pity and shame, and a sense of awkwardness.

"Son," said the bird-man, lowering his sunglasses with his hand so that the fox could get a glimpse of the electric blue eyes behind them."What happened between your father and I is none of your business, capice?"

"And," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "you speak back to me like that one more time, I'll turn this ship around and dump your ass back in Corneria, and you can find yourself a pilot as good as me who'll teach you." And with that, he swung his chair back into the position it had been, facing the large observation windows.

"Now," he repeated, his voice stern, allowing no room for argument. "Get outta here."

Marcus mumbled "Yes, sir," quietly, and left the room as quickly as he could, defeated.

Once the fox had exited the Observation Deck, the falcon swung on his chair around one more time. He sighed, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Damn it," he whispered. "The old times are catching up to me, aren't they? After all i've tried to leave them behind."

And he swung back again, resuming his observation of the great interstellar void.

Marcus sat down on the small dining hall of the star-ship, which, in actuality, was also pretty small. It contained a small hangar, some five rooms, a mess/dining hall, and an Observation/Command Deck. Pretty small.

He waited a while, trying to hear any noises, alert. After some time passed though, he shrugged, and began eating his meal slowly, savoring the taste of the meat and the thick gravy. His mandibles moved up and down as he chewed, and he sat there eating alone, bored.

He had already eaten his meat and was starting on his side dish of steamed vegetables when he heard approaching footsteps.

Well, who else but Falco? he thought, looking up as the older falcon entered the room.

"Hey," said the avian, walking to the little stove and picking up a plate and serving himself.

"Hiya, Falco," he replied, continuing to chew, enjoying the taste of the steamed vegetables.

The falcon walked back to the tale and pulled up a chair, sitting gown and setting his plate in front of him. Before he started eating, he took of his sunglasses, folding them and putting them to the side of him. Then he picked up his fork, and began to eat in the way the bird-men eat, since they have a beak and no teeth

They ate in silence for the first few minutes, the only sounds being the gentle hum of the generators and the clutter of the forks as they scraped against the plates.

It was finally Falco who spoke up.

"I'm sorry about the incident in the afternoon," he said briskly, not even looking up from his plate of food.

Marcus looked up.

"No, it's alright. I guess it really is none of my business, and besides, it's all in the past."

"You're right; it's none of your business. But I shouldn't have gotten all that angry at you, after all, I was young once, I was just as curious."

"Well, whatever, Falco. I don't mind."

After that, both stopped talking, Marcus standing up and serving himself some more food.

"Who made this food, by the way?" asked Falco, brandishing his fork, which held a piece of meat. "You, or the Servo-bot?"

"The Servo-bot," the fox replied, grinning. "I'm not so good of a cook."

"Oh," said the falcon, as if he hadn't been surprised.