Music: "Aftervisions"
Far, far away from all the crowded and lively happenings in Midair Stadium, there was naught but the empty expanse of space itself. From this vast distance out here, Planet Veradeena became another speck in the void.
The Star Fox team's gigantic mothership, the Great Fox, glided without a single sound through this nothingness as it continued en-route to its eventual airborne destination on the planet. Ahead of the ship in the distance lay that bright yellowish beacon of the Nassazar sun, leading further into the system. Even some tiny silhouettes of those other inner worlds could be seen in the light as they floated there amid a ring of cosmic dust, seemingly weightless in this vacuum of the infinite.
Fox had been correct during the video chat, though; all those star fields farther behind did look absolutely stunning.
In his private quarters, somewhere deep inside this giant craft, the vulpine was alone, sitting quietly on his bedside while getting suited up in his iconic green pilot's attire.
Fox reached over and got his white flight-jacket, letting it slide down smoothly and comfortably onto his shoulders. He purposely left it unzipped, like he always did for his 'casual' look whenever he was traveling. As a final measure, the vulpine tightened his belt strap until it was snug and polished that metal insignia for his team with the palm of his hand. With a pleasant result, it glistened somewhat from the faint radiance of starlight that wandered its way into this otherwise dimly-lit room.
After hooking his holstered blaster to the side of his belt, he slipped on his large red-and-black alloy-guarded boots which reached to just under his knee and clamped the shin straps tight. Satisfied, Fox stood up and took a quick glance out the window at the cosmos before stepping over to the rather large mirror mounted above his nightstand. He stopped in front of it so he could see himself better and took a comb, sweeping back that central streak of white fur running atop his head.
Even still, it seemed like there was something more going on. The vulpine found that his own reflection came across as both elegant and calm. He couldn't help but gaze at himself whilst taking out his cherished crimson-colored scarf from the top drawer; gently lacing it around his neck to a comfortable position.
Indeed, this piece of textile was something that meant so much to him, only he could understand the true implications.
Also lining the mirror's illuminated edges was a collection of physical photographs, taken after some of his most famous missions years ago. Fox stood in almost all of those snapshots, alongside friends who dated back from the academy days. There was even one profiling his true love: The beautiful blue-furred vixen, Krystal.
Krys, please... He thought to himself upon glancing at it, I really hope you'll be watching when I'm up to smash...
After pondering another beat, the vulpine let a light scoff out through his nose and simply let his thoughts come out how they were.
"... Bah, what am I saying," he softly said to the silence of his room, as if he were speaking to her in person. "You're a good girl, Krys. I know you'll be watching. You wouldn't want to miss it for a second. Hell, I'm pretty sure you remember that last one better than I do, since that was your first time over in good old Midair..."
What ended up catching the vulpine's attention most was the very top photograph. This one may have been the smallest of the bunch, yet it stood out because the edges were visibly worn and appeared somewhat faded from older age.
Fox carefully took this photo down, staring quietly at the single figure who stood profiled in the frame. It was of an older vulpine, but a distinct pair of sunglasses covered the eyes.
It was his lost father, James McCloud.
Everything came to a stop in Fox's mind after an elusive feeling began blooming within him. It wasn't something he could ever fully articulate, even to himself. It never quite came across as straight-up sadness either; rather, it was a sense of yearning for those years he did remember with his father, when he was much younger.
Just the slightest ache started to well from inside the vulpine's chest, and only a single word could find its way to the front of his mind as he stood here in silence, soothed by this flow of memories being released.
Dad...
James had in fact been a widely famous smasher from Corneria back during his time, and it was that prowess he'd held which most likely inspired his son to follow him in those footsteps too, in addition to assuming the admittedly daunting mantle of leading the Star Fox team. Indeed, Fox must have barely been six years old when he attended his first smash tournament to watch his father compete.
His heart fluttered softly at the whole notion, yet it was all those smaller moments in his life that really took a hold of him and seemed to freeze time itself. He suddenly felt weightless, as though his body had begun drifting right out into the cosmos.
Some deepest days of Fox's youth were coming back to revisit him, merely as enraptured whispers.
He remembered the warm and caring hugs he got from his father before he had to leave for some other important mission he couldn't understand at the time. He remembered how James would say a quick goodbye to him and his mother, always promising to return safely no matter what might happen...
Whenever James was home, Fox recalled getting many fatherly pats upon his head followed by complimenting words for doing something good, even though he couldn't remember what for exactly. It was just that emotional bond he held...
Fox would often lie on his bed at night, after listening with great fascination to all the exciting tales and stories James would tell him before he drifted off to sleep. He'd try to imagine what could be out there beyond the Lylat System, and possibly beyond Sector N altogether...
There was also that sense of never-ending adventure from walking together in downtown Corneria City, when James would occasionally take Fox to the CDF Headquarters and show him around. They were nothing less than close father and son...
Many a time too, young Fox rode atop his father's shoulders as they wandered through rolling fields of tall grass outside the city, under the warm and gifting light of Lylat; innocently exploring where to have a nice little rest for a snack that day...
And yet, he couldn't help but also recount the very last time he ever saw his father...
As James was leaving home to depart for that fateful mission, a teenage Fox McCloud had been watching him silently from behind a large window on the front side of their house. He remembered seeing how that beautiful day's light glistened and refracted into many different colors on the walls and floors, even casting onto himself and into his eyes...
James was outside, dressed in uniform, saying goodbye to Fox's mother with a heartfelt hug followed by a passionate kiss. They both stood down on the sidewalk near the street as Fox just watched on...
He'd already said his farewell, and from their final parting words a few minutes prior, that simple pane of glass was what came to separate him and his father forever...
But he couldn't have known what was going to happen. How could he have?
Never could the young vulpine have imagined what all the future years of his life would bring...
And yet, here Fox stood, in a new era which was both peaceful as well as prosperous. It'd been a long time since any conflict, indeed. Almost a decade of calm had passed since the Aparoid invasion, with the Lylat Wars a mere further, distant memory at this point.
Certain questions lingered still: Had Fox kept his promise from all those years ago? Had he upheld his father's legacy? Had he led the Star Fox team in a manner that would've truly made James proud?
On the other hand, with this new era came the bitter-sweet truth that the team's famed combat services had long-since fallen by the wayside. They simply weren't needed anymore, let alone sought after like they used to be.
In wake of that hard-fought victory over the Aparoids, the Cornerian Defense Force upped their efforts on all fronts, and by the next year reached a point where they themselves were able to sustain sufficient security across most of the Lylat System. Mercenary groups like Star Fox dwindled as a result, though their legacies in Lylat's history never faded.
Fox and his team could've easily retired then and there too. They'd acquired more than enough wealth to live out the rest of their lives in this well-earned peace, yet space was their true home. Nothing could ever change that, so during these years of prosperity, they'd kept a small but stable income up by doing simple cargo runs or the occasional reconnaissance gig.
Still, it was those fleeting moments which meant so much to him in the end. The ones that would slip by so quickly, but for some reason are still remembered so fully; so richly.
Fox closed his eyes and exhaled softly. The tiny bead of a glistening tear leaked its way down his cheek. Not a single spoken word was needed for this. There was only that true and powerful feeling reaching out across the stars, from wherever his father may be now.
Alright, dad, I know... He reassured himself with a smile, knowing that James was still here with him in spirit. Like you always said, 'Trust your instincts...' And I guess that means I really gotta finish getting ready now...!
Happy with the warmth of this calm remembrance, the vulpine reopened his eyes and gently set the photograph back up on the mirror's edge. He then finished making sure he looked fine in the mirror by running his furry hand through that streak of white fur atop his head, making it more spiky and raised instead of simply being combed back like before.
"... And on this side of the platform..." Fox pretended to mimic the announcer's deep and rich voice, grinning toothily at the reflection of himself. He stood proudly with his hands upon his hips, letting his bushy tail sway from side to side.
"Fox McCloud from Corneria, and leader of the one-and-only Star Fox team. Tsk, yeah..." He finished by a witty little click of his tongue and winked, giving himself a good old two-gun point. Indeed, it looked like he was all ready, except for one missing piece.
"Mhmm, and of course, the cherry on top..." With that same grin, Fox glanced over to see his pilot communicator helmet hanging on a rack just to the left of his dresser. He took it and let it slide down over his head, so the middle fit smoothly between his large, pointy ears.
Now his mission was a go.
Music: "SETI Project V.1"
The vulpine pilot retained a bright and thoughtful expression while he strode down the long, white metallic corridors of the Great Fox. The whole time he'd even been humming a little tune to himself, until he turned onto a larger hallway and began approaching an already-opened set of automated sliding doors.
This was the entrance which led into the mothership's bridge. Upon nearing it, though, a mechanical whirring of tools reached Fox's fuzzy ears. The faint hiss of a welding torch soon followed as he peered into this huge control room.
There were only a few actual dashboards with control panels located near the front and center, while the rest served as extra space for any utilities or equipment. Still, it was how the bridge's windows extended high up, arching across horizontally to give it this spacious scale, plus an ultra-wide view of the outside.
Fox also came to notice some moody techno music that'd been playing from the ship's radio at the navigational mainframe, going out over the intercom speakers here in the bridge. It definitely added another dimension to the whole atmosphere.
Last but not least, he caught sight of his fellow team members, Falco and Slippy. The two were indeed busy repairing their ship's controller robot, ROB 64, which wasn't quite what he'd predicted they were both doing during the video chat. Bright bursts of blue and white welding sparks spewed up and bounced on the metallic floor just around them nonetheless.
"Ahem... Morning to you too, guys," Fox smirked and said to the two of them after clearing his throat. He'd already walked quite far into the bridge without even getting noticed.
The blue-feathered avian, very much unlike Fox, was wearing basic apparel: A black grease-stained tank top with faded grey cargo pants. He propped up his welding goggles and wiped one of his wing-like hands down over his half-sweaty beak. The other hand clasped around a portable welding torch.
"Oh, hiya Foxy, didn't see ya there," Falco started in his very noticeable accent. He keenly observed Fox's admittedly handsome stature, sizing him up and down. "Hmm... Wow, you're sure lookin' sharp, McCloud."
By the end, Falco's tone had grown slightly luscious, albeit in a joking manner.
"Ha, do I now?" Flattered, Fox raised his arms up and twirled around, swishing his bushy tail. Their pilot suits were a little bit on the tight-fitting side after all, plus they revealed a fair amount of the curving on their bodies, so it came as no surprise how they were often prime targets for many expected jokes.
Right now, though, Falco didn't seem interested in that particular avenue.
"Really, ya look fresh, like you're goin' out on a mission right now or somethin'. Hell, even the scarf's on, and that usually means business."
"Well," Fox answered happily, "Let's just say it's right on time for the watching the opening ceremony."
While saying so, he checked that his headpiece's little green glass visor folded down smoothly into his peripheral vision.
"If you really wanted to know," he then went on, "I personally re-washed every part of my suit the night before... But hey, you'll be looking this sharp too soon enough once you clean up."
"... Say, what kept ya down there anyhow?" Falco asked after a beat, tilting his head slightly. Fox had in fact taken a little longer than he wanted to, yet it was mostly due to him being deep in his thoughts with that photograph of James.
"Oh, that..." He gave a small shrug. "I guess I was just... Having a little moment, you know?"
"A little moment, huh?" The bird became more curious and paused his work. "... With what?"
Fox thought a bit before clarifying with a soft sigh, "... Just some memories."
"Ah, ok. Wasn't quite what I was thinking of, but I gotcha." Falco sniffed briefly and cleared his nostrils. "... Was it some thoughts 'bout your dad?"
"Mhmm, it was," nodded the vulpine. He gazed out the bridge's front window at that gleaming yellowish beacon of the Nassazar in the dark void. Faint remnants from some of those thoughts sounded like they were calling to him again from behind.
"... It's kinda strange, actually. I was remembering all these things from when I was young, but at the same time... I could almost see myself in his very place when I was older... Sometime in the future..."
"... Memories from the future? Like, a future memory...?" Falco raised an eyebrow and smirked at the thought. "Is that what you're tryin' to say, Foxy?"
"You know... I think it could be, as a matter of fact..." Thinking about it, Fox also couldn't help but smile a little. "Hm... That's a pretty interesting way to put it."
"Heh," scoffed the bird, "I just made that up here on the spot. Doesn't make a lick of sense to me. Future memories... Pah... How'd that even be a thing?"
Fox shrugged again. "I get where you're coming from, but somehow, it makes all the sense in the world to me..."
Both he and Falco were left in what felt like a prolonged period of thoughtful silence, with naught but that moody music emanating in the background. That remained so, until the sharp clacking sound of an air-powered ratchet quickly brought their attentions back to the present moment.
They'd almost forgotten about the third person here, Slippy, who coincidentally found the time right to start talking himself after having been quiet this whole time.
"... Howdy by the way, Fox." His cheerful albeit muffled voice sounded from under his own welding shade due to him still being faced downward and away. He'd just finished attaching something inside the chassis of ROB 64. "Oh, and don't worry, I heard everything you said. It didn't distract me."
"Well, even if I did... It wouldn't have been on purpose, right?" Fox inquired lightheartedly, walking a few paces closer. He leaned an arm on the backrest of one of the chairs, eyeing his two companions curiously as they continued working on the robot.
"Nope, it'd be no bigs at all." The mechanic flipped his welding shade up before facing Fox too, mischievously adding, "Just like this hydraulic base-joint, my concentration's all fixed."
"... Booooo...!" In spite of the corny pun, Falco jokingly bumped his elbow against Slippy's shoulder, causing him to jerk sideways a little.
"Sorry, but are you disappointed?" Slippy readjusted the welding shade strapped atop his wide frog-like head, annoyed. "That's not the worst one I could've come up with, just so you know."
Falco deviously shot his eyebrows up and opened his beak, priming to say something back, when Fox stole his air instead:
"Hate to spoil your sour wine even more, but please... I think I've about had my share of jokes for the day just from chatting with the guys... And girls..."
With that, he went ahead and slid back comfortably into a chair at one of the Great Fox's primary control panels. He took his communicator headpiece off and set it on the tray table next to him, before gently tapping a clawed finger on one of the dashboard's sensor points. This prompted a large and flat LED screen stowed above on the high ceiling to unfold downward, allowing for a clear viewing from practically anywhere in the bridge.
"... Oh, yeah...!" Falco suddenly remembered, "So how were Mario and the whole gang doin'?"
"Sounded like they're doing just fine," Fox happily conversed with a cock of his head back to the two. "The gang says hi, and it was real great to see ol' Mario again."
The bird went about slyly eyeing his furry friend, even as he thought to lean on the table beside him. "Mm... Did ya tell 'em the next thing they'd feel was your boot kickin' their asses?"
"Ha," Fox countered, "Nah, I didn't say that... But I was thinking about it."
"Ahh nuts," Falco clicked his tongue, "Now I really wish I could've been there with ya for the chat. I know I would've said a few things to 'em... Instead of doin' this crap with the croaker up here."
He shot a witty look to Slippy, even though he was faced away once more, fastening some bolts into ROB 64's outer casing.
"Uh, well excuse me," the mechanic then shot back rather tartly, "But you were the one who said yes to helping me with this repair job, bird brain."
Of course, Falco conjured his expected response. He reached over and bopped Slippy on the head, causing his propped-up welding shade to swing down over his face. He clumsily flipped it back up and gave a glare, though the smug avian offered his answer:
"Hmph... Well, maybe I was just a bit too excited when I said that."
"... Anyhoo," Fox finally went on with what he'd been saying before. "Looks like it's gonna be an exciting time, that's for sure. I could see quite a few new faces down there on the stream... Oh, and speaking of Mario, that's including his bro, Luigi."
"Luigi? So, that pipe fixer finally decided to do a big tourney, eh?" Falco seemed to balk at the thought initially, but quickly shifted his mindset and brought out the full extent of his well-known cockiness.
"Huh... Wonder what he'd say if I got to be the one who gives 'im his initiation... Meaning my fist and kickers to that large nose of his." As he spoke, he clenched that welding torch tightly in his feathered hand and swung it to and fro; like he was striking something, or someone for that matter.
Hearing all of this, Fox could only rest his maw on his knuckles and smirk, adding his own say to play along with his fellow pilot, "Think you'd give him a good old Cornerian Cracking?"
"Heh," Falco scoffed arrogantly and smirked big. "You bet your ass. I'd give 'im that and then some. I'd show that plumber what real smashing is all about, and give 'im a first one he'd never forget."
"Yeah..." Fox paused a beat. A small but perhaps suggestive smirk of his own lingered on the corners of his maw, for he was deciding whether or not to tell him about Ike's proposed challenge during the video chat.
Bah, what the hell, he figured, It'll be interesting... And hilarious...
Letting that expression overcome the entirety of his face, he went ahead and announced it to his fellow pilot in a subtly mischievous manner.
"Oh... Hey, and Falco? I think Ike might just have something planned for you, 'cause apparently you're gonna be swallowing his blade before he lets you win."
"... Hubba-WHA? Ike said WHAT now...?!" The bird quickly flipped up his goggles again, shooting a demanding look back over at Fox who was just grinning and sitting comfortably in the chair. Only the white end of his fuzzy tail occasionally twitched from side to side.
"Uh-huh, that's what he said." The vulpine scratched behind his large pointy ears, pretending to be unsure. "He even held it right up to the camera, and well... It was pretty big I gotta say. You know, he seems to be another one of the guys who's really full of themselves this time..."
Perhaps he was using those similar words on purpose to give Falco a clue on what he was actually trying to get at, but alas, the bird didn't appear to take the hint. Rather, he felt as though he'd been personally insulted.
"Why that snitchy little bitch mercenary...!" He sneered, bluntly banging the base of his welding torch on the table and shaking his head at the utter thought of submitting to Ike like that. "Oh, I'll make him swallow something big alright... My blaster all the way down his throat!"
Haha... Yep, just what I thought... Fox grinned, chuckling to himself with a humorous sigh and doing a light face-palm right after. Good ol' Falco... Always trying to get the one-up on someone by saying and doing anything no matter what...
In reality, Ike stood a full head-and-shoulders taller than Falco, but that only made it more amusing for Fox to try and imagine.
That was when the large folded-down screen came to life with some ongoing live coverage of Midair Stadium in an insert frame, alongside that quartet of Koopa and Toad news anchors from the Mushroom Central News Network. They'd been having a round-table discussion on various things like skills of individual contenders, as well as their own predictions for who might possibly win the first round.
"... Hey, you guys? Looks like it's getting ready to start!" The vulpine lit up and called back to his fellow team members, who both glanced over again with excitement.
"Alright, hang on just a sec..." The mechanic turned back, concentrating on finishing his reattachment of a final set of wires back into ROB 64's main torso panel.
"Yo, Slip, does this mean I ain't required anymore for your little robot repair service ya got goin' on here?" inquired the bird, to which a hardworking Slippy confirmed with a brief nod.
"Yup. All I needed was for you to help me weld the sides of those panels, so yeah, you're done."
Through a dense metallic thud, Falco set a tool box back on the table and stood up with a rather cocky smirk across his beak.
"Atta boy there, Slip." He stretched his arms in a well-deserved manner and leaned his neck to the side, letting the muscles pop a few times. "This whole mechanic mojo ain't my morning's calling anyhow."
Fox had meanwhile become fixated by that live coverage on the screen as its current view zoomed far in on the training facility's exit hall, attempting to get a better angle on the first few rows of smashers ahead of time. A few of the duos, namely Mario and Kirby, were indeed visible there at the very front, although they kept standing patiently under the stark shade.
"Oh, hey, look at that! There they are!" As if he were an excited kid all over again, Fox eagerly pointed up to the screen and got more comfortable in his chair. "Wow, is this some perfect timing or what?"
"... So our good pals Mario and Kirbs are up first again, eh?" Falco set his welding goggles and torch down on that same table. He wiped his feathered hands off on his tank top and started strutting over.
The vulpine nodded. "Seems to be the new tourney tradition now... Heh, if that even makes sense. But it does make sense I think, 'cause when you're watching them, you can really see they're different in terms of fighting styles. Remember how Kirby always uses his air superiority?"
Falco came right up behind Fox and gently laid his wing-like arms down over his shoulders, while his beaked head rested on top of Fox's. His big, pointy ears flattened straight out to the sides in response as Falco slyly smiled down at him from above.
"Me," he started, "I'm pretty sure it's just 'cause everyone loves the plumber and the puffball... But we'll show 'em though."
The boastful bird's blue eyes gazed down at his fellow pilot's fuzzy head below. "Ready for our duels in duals, Foxy?"
Fox writhed and playfully shook Falco off of his head and shoulders. He glanced back up at the screen.
"Ha, I'm as ready as I'll ever be, but you'd better not let 'em hear you bashing like this."
"Oh yeah? Why so?" The bird inquired, crossing his arms and eyeing his fellow pilot slyly again; interested as always about the why aspect of his comments.
Fox clarified for him, "You know Kirby is one of those Star Warriors, and Mario... Well, he's saved the Mushroom Kingdom countless times by now, so both their reps are well earned."
An ear of his twitched briefly as he pondered, "Hmm... Same with ours for that matter. Just wait though, when we arrive, they're gonna have to say something like... 'Attention everyone! Here comes the Star Fox team, the true heroes of the Lylat System!'"
To Fox's lively words, Slippy raised his welding torch up in the air and waved it around, hollering, "Whooo! Yeah! Go team SF!"
Falco couldn't help but cover his face and emit a snorting laugh through his nostrils in response to this sudden outburst of enthusiastic albeit slightly cringeworthy pride for their team.
Fox tried to go on with his initial thought nevertheless, yet also fought to hold back sporadic giggles himself.
"Still, we don't start until the twelfth bracket... So technically, there's no real hurries for us." He then paused another beat, promptly shifting his tone to a more solemn one. "But remember, Falco... This time it's only the two of us who are representing the Cornerian Defense Forces, so it's all for the honor."
Falco nodded, somewhat in a concerned agreement. "Yeah... Sure is a shame Pepper couldn't make it to watch either. Then again though, seems like the years are finally startin' to catch up to the ol' geezer..."
His eyes drifted back and fell upon Slippy, who still hadn't moved from working on the robot.
"Ahem... Yo, Slip." Clearing his throat, the avian teased, "For cryin' out loud, why don't ya give it a rest already? Come n' watch the opening ceremony with us, or ROB there won't be the only one with a blown fuse."
The mechanic sighed damply, turning to meet Falco's beady blue eyes with a sense of sarcasm in his own. "You know, your humor has a reeeaaal way of putting salt on the whole mood."
Falco glanced over at Fox, seeing what his reaction to all this might be as Slippy talked on:
"And I don't know about you guys, but I'd sure as heck like to have the Great Fox's automated controller back... Instead of having to talk to that stupid, lifeless Com. Also, if you knew about electronics, it's not a freakin' fuse that caused ROB's central joint-freeze, Einstein."
This was the usual type of childish bickering that bounced between these two members of the team in particular. Fox just smirked, however, and shook his head while Falco pretended to wince from Slippy's verbal jabs, scoffing in amusement.
"A central joint-freeze? Huh... Ok then, that answers that. I was wondering what exactly went wrong with ol' ROB..." The vulpine tried offering his own neutral perspective on their little 'conversation' at hand, although it had next to no effect.
"Well," Falco started again, "When ya say it like that, I guess ROB at least can have a sense of humor from time to time... Unlike one or two of us in here..."
He was about to bring out another comeback, but that was when the old hare Peppy promptly entered the bridge. He'd heard some of the bickering going on as he approached from the hallway, yet that snippet obviously proved to be enough for him due to the look on his face.
"... Alright, knock it off. The both of you," he grumpily commanded, hobbling over to take a seat in the chair next to Fox. "Really, we almost went the whole way for once without this usual nonsense from you two."
Falco crossed his arms and cocked his head, sneering a teasing grin toward Slippy who could only manage to make a childish raspberry face back.
"I'm pretty sure it's also bad enough for Corneria's reputation that we're the ones missin' this openin' ceremony due to concerns with the General's health." The hare rambled on, "Hmph... As if the timin' for all this could be any more inconvenient..."
He finally ceased his little rant and tapped a function on the large dashboard in front of him. That moody techno music which had been playing this whole time from the radio ceased.
"Great Fox?" Peppy inquired, "What's the remainin' time 'til we reach our destination?"
A few seconds or so of silence passed before the ship's Com replied in a rather monotonous voice, "ETA to final destination, Midair Stadium: Two hours."
Then, as if strangely on cue, a burst of cheering erupted from the screen's speakers above them. The camera perspective began following Mario, Kirby, and the other paired smashers as they'd taken their first steps to emerge out in that glorious sunlit arena. They raised their hands, waving around faithfully to the crowds.
"... And here they come!" The announcer's voice sounded proudly from the coverage, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you've all been waiting for! Put your hands together, and give a-!"
"Oh, it's starting!" Fox exclaimed, "Gather around, guys!"
He reached over into a convenient little compartment stowed right below the main dashboard, grabbing what looked like a handful of chewy energy bars.
"Anybody else want one?" He held up another few and offered them to his three companions through a playful expression. "Going once...? Going twice...?"
"... And it's sold, to me. Don't mind if I do, Foxy." Falco graciously took every one of the bars that Fox was holding and plopped down in a seat beside him, opposite that of Peppy.
"I'm starved. Hell, I haven't even eaten any breakfast yet..." He tore the wrapping open on one of them and began munching away to his heart's desire, yet Fox kept eyeing his somewhat sweaty and unclean friend through another smirk.
"Hmm... I haven't eaten yet either, but are you gonna be showering up any time soon, Falco?" He asked, "You know, to make yourself actually look, um... Presentable for when we get there?"
Between chews, a sarcastic Falco tried to retort, "Whaddya think, that I'd show up lookin' like Slippy over here? Doi...! Of course I'm gonna go clean my tail feathers up."
"Well, I mean... It does take some time, you know." Fox scoffed, "... That is, if you do want to end up looking this sharp like me."
"Ah c'mon, Foxy, don't sweat it." The bird broke off another piece of the bar and flicked it into his mouth casually. "You heard the old Com, we got two good hours to kill here. Even you said it yourself... There's no real hurries?"
"Alrighty then, just checkin'..." Nodding in acknowledgment, Fox shifted his attention over to Slippy who'd quietly gotten comfortable in the next seat down.
"... Slip? You want a snack too?" He grabbed another pair of energy bars and offered one of them to the mechanic.
"Nah, that's alright, Fox," he replied with a quick wave of his hand. "I'm not hungry right now, but thanks anyway though."
"Well, as good ol' Mario would say... Oki-doki, if-a-you say so!" After comically attempting to mimic the plumber's Italian accent, the vulpine finally unwrapped his own energy bar and took a hearty bite out of it. He relaxed and slowly adjusted his shoulders in the comfort of the chair, before glancing over at each of his team members.
Back up on the large screen, the opening ceremony was now officially getting underway. All of that enthusiasm and energy was only about to ride much higher.
"Right..." Fox gave a last nod of satisfaction. "Here we go."