Author's note:

With Foreign Affairs done and dusted, we now return to our regular schedule.

Chapter 45: A Sombre Day

In the weeks since Andross produced his antibiotics, the grim situation throughout Kezamat improved. The nuhmryg changed from a death sentence into a minor concern that cleared within days. Infection rates nosedived until cases only occurred in rare spots. Widespread fear dissipated. People gradually returned to their normal lives. Streets began to fill again, and trade from afar resumed at a tentative flow. Upon Andross's advice, Chief Gylis declared the nuhmryg epidemic over and lifted all restrictions that curbed its spread. Relief ran through every man, woman, and child throughout the city.

The joy that they all shared fleeted swiftly though. In fear's absence, grief took its place. Grief for all the souls who the nuhmryg had taken. Parents; siblings; children; mates; friends; and more loved ones besides. All their lives snuffed out. Irretrievable. Irreplaceable. The Cerinians cried for them as one. Their combined sorrow created an empathic haze that brought all within it to tears. When Fox fell to his hands and knees, clutching at the heartbreak of tens of thousands tearing inside his chest, it became too much to bear. Krystal found him curled up on the floor. Tears ran down her face as she struggled under the same weight. They held each other for hours until they awoke the next morning haggard, despondent, and severely dehydrated from weeping together.

Thus, from that experience, Fox wore the rustic red of dried blood when the Cerinians gathered to mourn. Their sashes, all identical, marked the wounds ripped from their hearts where their loved ones had been. Their haze followed them as they marched west from the city walls to Yulden Hill, Kezamat's sacred ground for the dead.

Haret-drawn carts carried over 1,600 bodies. All preserved as best as possible. Too many to hold individual funerals for. The first time that Fox attended a mass service like this, his father's name had been part of the list. Old heartache joined the new. Fox held Krystal's hand as her feet followed his without her present.

He squeezed her fingers gently, hoping to elicit a response. Krystal met his gaze briefly. Despair hollowed hers. Fox could see deep into Krystal's soul and found nothing of the spark he loved. She returned her nose towards the ground without a word. Fox worried for her. He wanted to hold her; to comfort her. But the crowd would not stop for them. They had to keep moving.

After another half hour, they reached the hill. A single, towering tree stood at its top. Countless gravestones dotted all around the gentle slope. Fox heard tales that the tree was a daughter of the Cerinian god of the dead, tasked to guard those who were buried among her tender, wide-reaching roots. Even though Fox didn't believe in faith, it was a nice sentiment to have something watching over these graves.

A stage was raised at the hill's base. The temple priests of Cerinia stood before the people. Not a single voice spoke. The prolonged silence became tangible. At last, the High Priest raised his arms solemnly.

"From Meen's womb, all are born into this world. Into Yul's arms, all are guided towards the next. Our lives are an uncertain stumble from one parent's embrace to the other's. From mother to father. Their love is our journey." A man standing close to Fox wept loudly. Another, perhaps a friend or a brother, wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"The passing of one is always tragic," the High Priest continued, "but the sheer scale of loss that we have suffered these past months baffles comprehension. I believe that our grief today will mark our city for generations to come. May we pray that those we've lost will find peace in the Void, and that the wounds in our souls will heal with time." Krystal grasped Fox's hand with a vice's strength. He returned her force with a gentler pressure, assuring her that he was there for her.

"Today, we bid farewell to our beloved ones; taken from us much too soon. There are too many to call in sequence, so I ask of you: Help us to present their names to Yulden, so that she may know the children we entrust into her eternal care. If you know them, speak their names here together."

Throughout the field, thousands of voices murmured in discord. Fox bowed his head and clasped his hands together. Closing his eyes, he chanted six names. Six names that belonged to his comrades from the guard. "Biren… Cold… Seyesha… Thalamur… Zenshel… Kireba…" All gone. All taken by the nuhmryg. But not forgotten.

"Rest in peace. Amen," he whispered. Not even Fox heard his own voice.

"Deiden… Thori… Keksema… Jem… Adem…"

Krystal gave one name after another. With each breath, a fresh sob threatened to break from her. She stifled it with a sharp sniff and pressed on. Tears washed her cheeks unchecked. When she began to shake, Fox steadied Krystal in his arms. She did not stop her prayers or open her eyes.

"Konar… Vadomi… Rehel… Quorne… Samered…"

Fox's heart bled. As the names continued to spout in the dozens from Krystal, he began to realise that they were not all friends and family she was mourning. He held her tighter. Krystal's tears struck her with greater force. Yet she persisted until every name had been declared to the Yulden Tree. Every single one brought her new pain. In time, she gave out the last one and buried her face into Fox's shoulder.

When the High Priest resumed speaking, Fox paid no attention to his words. His only concern was to comfort Krystal. He rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. Nothing seemed to console her though. Wanting not to disturb the ceremony for everyone around them, Fox brought his lips to Krystal's ear.

"Krystal…?" No answer. "Please talk to me. Share what you're feeling with me. I want to help you."

At first, she only wept. Then Krystal crushed his ribs in her arms. He took it silently. But when Krystal finally touched Fox's mind, he gasped at the viscous, black flood that swallowed him whole. It felt like guilt. Krystal's guilt. Fox clung to Krystal like she were driftwood in a stormy sea, barely keeping his head above water. He fought to not be swept away. He needed to be steady for Krystal; objective in how he felt. Fox surveyed the emotions swirling around him, peering into their source.

The names that Krystal had called all belonged to her patients. Thirty-seven in total. All of them she had failed. All of them she had let die. How she memorised every single one, Fox dreaded to delve deep enough to find out. That did not matter. What mattered was the pain that Krystal now punished herself with.

"Oh, Krystal…" he cradled her. She sniffled deeply. "I'm so sorry. I know how much this hurts. For how long it hurts."

Gently, Fox rocked Krystal with his weight swaying from one foot to the other. "I've felt this same way a long time ago. It was after the war. When we held memorial services for all the people who died. Some were soldiers who died fighting. Others were just civilians who couldn't defend themselves. I went to as many services as I possibly could."

Fox sucked in a breath. "Every time, I ended up asking myself. How many deaths were my fault? How many could I have saved? If I had just been better? If I had been faster? How many people would still be alive if I invaded Venom and killed Andross sooner? I couldn't stop blaming myself."

The memories arose so clearly. Krystal watched them with Fox. "I wallowed in guilt for a long while afterwards. It was all I could think about. But then Peppy took me aside and asked what was bothering me. He listened. He understood. Do you want to know what he told me?"

Krystal pulled away. She looked into Fox's eyes, waiting to hear his answer. "He said that I did everything that I possibly could have. I did my best, and I shouldn't blame myself for things that I couldn't help. It won't change what already happened."

Fox cupped Krystal's cheek. Her fur was soaked underneath the pads of his fingers. "Instead of focusing on how I failed, Peppy told me to think about what I got right. I might not have saved everyone, but I did save some of them. And I should be happy about that."

Krystal shook her head. "How can I be happy when I felt so powerless most of the time?"

"Take this as a learning opportunity. Think about what you could do better from now on. How you can help the next person more. Antibiotics are just one thing that Andross taught your people about medicine. There's so much more that you can learn. Nobody can be expected to know everything. Just let yourself keep growing a little bit at a time."

Krystal lowered her gaze, chewing on his words. Alas, the sickness lingered inside her. "It doesn't seem fair. Even if I did everything I could have, so many people still died. Why is it alright for me to live when I couldn't save them?"

Fox sighed sadly. "That's survivor's guilt. And I've felt that before too. I might have defeated my enemies, but I lost allies along the way. So, could I really say that I won?" He shook his head. "I don't have the answers, Krystal. I think it's just luck that decides sometimes. You were lucky enough to only get sick just before Andross made a cure. Any earlier and it might have been a different story."

He held Krystal close once more. "I am so glad that we were able to make you well again in time. And I am so relieved that I'm not saying goodbye to you here today as well. I couldn't bear it if I had to."

Fox stroked her hair. "I promise that it will get better, Krystal. What you are feeling right now will pass. It won't happen overnight, but it will pass. I'll be with you the whole time until it does."

Through their link, Fox felt Krystal's gratitude. He felt her troubles settle. They were far from gone, but they were under control for the time being. Krystal would be okay until they got home. They could talk more about this there if she wanted to.

Fox returned his attention to the ceremony. Family members carried their deceased from the wagons through paths split between the crowd. The bodies were cocooned in white cloth. Some were big. Some were small. Others were far too small. Their kin brought them to one of the countless open graves. A dozen or so were taken further up the hill, where their departed mates were unearthed to be reunited for eternity.

Fox wondered. Would that be him one day? If Andross's rocket failed or the unthinkable happened before then, would he be buried in these grounds? Would he share his final resting place with Krystal's remains intertwined with his? Was that the ending that she would want? Was that what he wanted? It wasn't a bad way to be sent off. He wouldn't end his life alone then.

Still, Fox didn't want to make Cerinia his tomb. He had people working too hard back home for him to give up on.

In 30 minutes, all the bodies had been brought to their graves. The High Priest led a prayer for them. Fox bowed his head and joined Krystal and everyone else. He truly hoped that the deceased would all find peace. If there was a place beyond death, Fox hoped that it was pleasant there. His thoughts drifted once more. Would he see his father again on the other side, or did people from other planets and faith go somewhere else?

With those questions in his mind, Fox opened his eyes. They laid upon a head several bodies in front of him without pointed ears. He recognised Andross, and Fox felt himself turn numb. Why, of all emotions, did he feel numb? Fox thought about his father. He thought about the countless memorials built. He thought about all the full, empty, and nameless graves that Andross dug with his mad war for revenge. So, why wasn't Fox blistering with rage right now?!

His reason tightened her hold around his torso. His reason nuzzled his cheek with the love and life that Andross preserved. Fox pulled Krystal closer. He stared at Andross for longer than he kept track. He then turned inward and searched for the flames of hate that burned fiercely for the man. Yet he could not find them. Inside, Fox found only ashes remaining. They were cold and empty in his heart. And tired. So… so… tired…

What does it mean when you mourn your own hatred?

Fox didn't listen to the rest of the service. Before he realised it, the crowd was already dispersing. Andross, too, vanished without a trace. Only Krystal stayed with him. She now worried about him. Fox pressed his brow upon hers and held her. He held her like he could lose her at any given moment. And she, him.

"Excuse me…?"

They turned to the voice. A scarlet vixen stood with two little girls at her hip. "Are you Lady Krystal, by any chance?"

Krystal mustered her poise. "Yes. I am. Can I help you?"

The woman sucked in a shaken breath. "My name is Reah, and these are my daughters, Mera and Gildren. I don't know if you remember, but you took care of us at the shrine when our family contracted the nuhmryg."

Recollection brought Krystal low. "You were Adem's mate," she whimpered.

Reah nodded tearfully. "We came here to say goodbye to him." She pulled her daughters closer. They buried their faces into her dress.

Krystal shook her head in shame. "I am so sorry that we couldn't save him."

Reah exhaled. Her hurt was audible. "Adem is with Yul now. He will no longer know suffering like we did in his final moments." She needed a moment to compose herself. "When I saw you just now… I wanted to come forward and thank you."

Surprise struck Krystal. "Thank me? But your mate…"

"There was nothing more that you could have done to save my Adem. It pains me to realise that, but it's true," Reah said. "But thanks to you, and the rest of the Lythan Jad, our children and I survived. So long as Mera and Gildren are alive and well, I know that Adem's soul can rest easy. And so can mine."

Sharing a glance with each of her children, Reah ushered them forward. They wrapped their arms around Krystal's waist. "Thank you, Lady Krystal," they said together.

Tears brimmed in Krystal's eyes. She stroked the girls gently behind their ears. "You're welcome," she smiled. Reah stepped forward and pulled Krystal into her arms as well. They both cried into each other's shoulders.

After a few minutes, Reah and her children pulled away. They bowed once to Krystal and then left holding hands. Fox smiled as Krystal watched them follow the crowd back home. He clasped her shoulder from behind and drew her close.

"You see?" he said. "You might not have saved everyone, but you did save some of them. Thanks to you, those kids got the chance to grow up."

A small, fleeting smile touched Krystal's lips. "I'm glad. But it's awful that they'll have to live without their father from now on."

"It sucks. I know from experience. But that's also how I know that they'll be okay."

Krystal leaned into him. She kissed Fox on the nose. "Thank you, Fox."

"It's my pleasure." He nuzzled her back. "Ready to go home?"

She took his hand and smiled. "Yes. Let's."

Fox knew that Krystal was going to be okay too.

Papetoon's wind blew around Vixy. It carried the bite of her home city's winter, moderate as it was compared to other regions. Vixy's cardigan hugged her chest overtop the jade-green blouse she wore. Its long skirt fluttered around her legs. She gripped the side to keep it from rising too high.

In a large field where grass and trees were nurtured, Vixy walked along the gravel path. She counted the rows of stone markers, then turned when she found the correct one. Vixy walked for another 30 seconds before stopping to face a single cenotaph. A hole ached inside her fractured heart. Kneeling, Vixy read the inscription.

"James Foxwell McCloud"

"2192 – 2229 [PCY]"

"Loving father. Devoted mate. Valiant hero."

"May his eternal spirit find rest at this marker."

"Hello, darling," Vixy smiled. "I'm sorry I don't visit as often these days as I used to."

She set a bouquet of white ciscimilleons into the vase beside James's gravestone. Their delicate petals fell open towards the sun. The sharp, blue lines inside reminded Vixy of an Arwing. Papetoon's flower for the departed suited him perfectly.

"It's strange. Each passing day I spend on the Great Fox, I feel closer to you. Yet whenever I leave Papetoon, I end up further away from you and for longer each time." Oh, how much easier this would be if she only knew where James's body was. "I'd like to hope that you enjoy flying through space with us much more than staying here."

The marker did not answer, but James would have smiled and laughed in agreement. "We came back from the Balven System recently. We still haven't heard from Fox, so we were worried that something had happened. But Slippy checked the satellite and found no problems with it. Fox is fine as well. We could see that when we searched for him."

Nerves shuddered inside Vixy's chest. She expelled them through a deep sigh. "I'm worried, James. We sent down a second radio after we heard nothing from the first. I could understand missing one, but two in a row makes me wonder whether something has gone wrong on Purgatory. Peppy thinks I'm fretting too much, but I have this sick feeling inside my gut that's telling me otherwise."

Vixy hung her head. She wiped away her tears. "I wish I could talk to you, James. I wish I could talk to either of you. I feel like I'm being torn apart waiting. I want to hope for good news, but I'm afraid of getting my heart crushed all over again. I'm powerless to take anything into my own hands."

Her palms clasped together. "I need your help. You don't have to worry about me; but if you can, please find a way to guide Fox back to us. If I could just speak to him again, we'll be able to work out the rest from there. I know that I'm asking a lot from you, dear. It's probably impossible. But please, James. For me. Please do what you can to help our son."

Vixy waited. She listened. The wind blew again and rustled the ciscimilleons. Their heads bobbed up and down as though nodding. Vixy smiled. "Thank you." She brushed her fingers across the polished stone.

Vixy took a breath. A weight lifted from her shoulders. "I suppose you now want to hear how things are going with the team?"

She leaned back to gaze upon the clouds. "I suppose that Lucy joining is the biggest change. She's doing wonderfully and learning so quickly. I wish you could see it. Peppy is still nervous about letting her go out on missions. But whenever she comes back after finishing one, he looks so proud that it lights up the room."

Sorrow mixed into her smile. "The kids have all grown up. Lucy; Slippy; Falco; Katt. Even Dash. They've become so confident in what they do. And Fox is just the same. There's not much left for Peppy or me to help them with, except our jobs."

Vixy sighed softly. "Now that Peppy is working towards retirement, I'm starting to wonder what I'll do after we rescue Fox. As nice as it would be to continue studying Purgatory, I don't want to waste a single moment with Fox by focusing on my career. However, I'm not sure how I'd make the most of having him back."

She pondered for a while. "I suppose I'm waiting to find out what his plans are. Will he go back to flying with Star Fox, or will he want to do something else with his life? How much will he have changed when we do get him back? I'm nervous that we'll hear from Fox, and he'll have become a different person. It's silly, I know. But these worries nag at me sometimes."

If James could speak, he would probably assure that even if Fox changed, parts of him never would. He would still be their son, and they would love him all the same. Fox would certainly still love them too. Thinking like that made Vixy feel better.

"I don't think I've had the chance to tell you this, but Fox seems to have found someone on Purgatory. She's a pretty, blue vixen, though I don't know much more about her yet. They looked happy together at least. I'm hoping that when we rescue Fox, I'll get the chance to meet her as well."

Vixy's heart wavered. "That's assuming it will be possible though. It's hard enough to save one person from Purgatory. I'm not sure if we'll be able to pull out two at the same time. I hope so though. The last thing I want is for Fox to have to say goodbye to her for us."

Vixy bit her lip. "I guess that's another thing that scares me. There's so much that I don't know about Fox's life since he crashed there. How much has he gotten used to living with the natives? What will we take away from Fox when we rescue him? Are we going to force him to choose between a life with us and the one that he has now? Which of those will Fox want?"

She rubbed her face vigorously. "A lot of this would be so much easier to deal with if I could just talk to him again. I'm praying that we hear from Fox soon. I can then ask him all these questions directly. If Fox wants to come home, I'll do everything I can to help him. And if…"

Vixy stalled. She held back the tears that welled inside her. She made a promise that she would no longer cry about her son. "And if Fox wants to stay on Purgatory… Then I'll have to decide what I'll do about it." Vixy did not want it to come to that. However, something in her gut cautioned her to consider the possibility. It would hurt less than being taken by surprise later.

She had enough of bombarding James with her troubles. So, Vixy told him about her research. Her initial findings on Purgatory's surface launched her into stardom among planetologists. She authored articles published in at least a dozen science journals, presented at as many seminars across Lylat and Balven, and collaborated with other experts to try and understand Purgatory's ecosystem as well as the culture of its natives. Last week, Vixy received a nomination for the Swanburger Prize. She took care to credit her teammates for their help, though somehow the spotlight focused exclusively on her.

Thinking about her future as a scientist made Vixy reminisce on her past. She asked James if she remembered the three months that they spent in Fichina's orbit, where they first met. She had been part of the survey team tasked to find the optimal site for the planet's Climate Control Centre. The Cornerian Army deployed him to protect the team from pirates. Over the weeks of surface expeditions and bumping into each other frequently on the space station that they lived in, a romance blossomed between them. Vixy remembered leading James into her cabin on their last day. She then claimed him as her mate in a long heat of passion. Two months later, James left the army to become a freelancer. That allowed him to visit her on Papetoon as often as he wished.

A year later, James's eyes glistened when Vixy told him that she was pregnant. He swept her into his arms and kissed her with an intensity that she could still remember clearly to this day. James wanted to pick baby names right there, though Vixy laughed as she insisted that he wait until they learned their kit's gender first. He had been so sure that they'd have a little girl. Alas, that wasn't the case. James warmed up to having a son instead quickly enough though. And when the day finally came to bring their child into the world, James's heart melted as he held Fox for the first time.

Vixy missed the way that James smiled. She missed how he always talked about Fox as though everything that their child did was worth praise. Sure, James wasn't perfect, and he and Vixy shared their problems, but the years that they spent together as a family were the most precious in Vixy's life. Now, in James's passing and Fox's absence, those memories were all that she had of them.

After talking some more, Vixy checked her watch. She had been there for over an hour. Her knees ached and wobbled as she stood. "Thank you for your time, James. I don't know when I'll visit again, but I'll try to keep you waiting less next time."

She petted the stone. "I'll see you soon, darling. I love you."

"Dash, welcome. Have a seat."

"Thanks."

Dash hopped through the small, homely office. The rubber ends of his crutches thudded softly upon maroon carpet. He carefully eased himself into a chair next to the window. A short bulldog sat across Dash. A psychiatric license hung on the wall behind him. 'Dr Eugene Hudgens' glistened across its centre in gold, cursive font.

"It's been some time since we last saw each other in person," Dr Hudgens remarked. A cheerful look spread across his wrinkled face.

During his stay on Zoness, Dash maintained his appointments through videocall. It felt different attending the office again. He smiled. "It has."

Hudgens clicked his pen before tapping it against his clipboard. "How is your recovery going?"

"I'm back onboard the Great Fox now. I'm not flying on missions or anything like that yet, so don't worry. But it feels better being around my teammates again. I've missed them these last few months."

"Understandable. What do you do with yourself on the ship, then?"

"Mostly paperwork. Invoicing and intel reports. That sort of thing. I've also been patching some of the ship's software in my spare time. And sometimes I help Slippy with making repairs; provided that I can work in a wheelchair whenever I do."

Hudgens approved. "An active mind does wonders for your health. Speaking of… How have you been feeling since our last appointment? Do you still have any trouble sleeping?"

Dash clasped his hands together. He sighed softly. "It's getting better. I stopped taking the pills like you said. There were a few nights where I didn't have a single nightmare. But when I do, it's still the same."

"The one with the storm and your cousin's mercenaries chasing you?" Dash nodded. His tongue couldn't move. "The fact that you've gone a few nights without dreaming is a good sign. In time, I'm confident that particular dream will manifest less and less frequently."

"I hope so."

Silence hung while Dr Hudgens scribbled on his clipboard. "And what about when you are awake? Any flashbacks to the night in question or any other difficult time?"

Dash stared at his twiddling thumbs. "Sometimes. Not as often anymore. I do all the things you told me to do when I have them. But when it rains… It's like they always come back whenever that happens."

"It makes sense that wet weather became a trigger in your case. Keep the steps I've given you in mind, and we'll monitor those patterns together. Does how heavy it rains affect the intensity of these episodes? Or whether you're inside or outside?"

It took Dash time to work up the courage to admit his answer. "I'm okay when it's just a light shower. Except when I'm outside. I hate feeling the damp air and the rain falling on me. But thunder and lightning make it worse. It becomes hard for me to breathe no matter where I am."

"Astraphobia can develop when someone experiences trauma during a thunderstorm," Hudgens sympathised with a nod. "When you find shelter, I recommend having an activity ready to calm yourself with. It can be a puzzle on your phone, a fidget toy, or something as simple as eating a snack. Being in a well-lit area will help. It would also be a good idea to keep a flashlight or two around your home in case of a blackout."

Dash chewed on the ideas. "I'll think about that."

Hudgens pencilled in another note. "Is there anything else that you wish to talk about?" When Dash didn't reply, he gave another prompt. "How is your family situation at the moment?"

"Same old," Dash murmured. "Mom and Dad have helped a lot. I miss them now that I'm back at work, but it got a little hard to be around them the whole time. I think I got used to having my own life away from home."

"What about your grandmother?"

Dash hesitated. "She's okay usually."

"Are there times when she isn't?"

"Not while I've been on Zoness. But… I always lie to her about what I do for work. I mean… There's plenty of it that's true, but… I never feel like I can talk to her about my grandfather or Andrew. That kind of stuff sets her off."

"Do you want to talk about those topics with her?"

Dash thought about it. "I don't know. Kind of? She did know Grandfather better than anyone else. Before all the bad things he did."

"Are you curious about him?" Hudgens asked. Dash stared at him for a long time, trying to gauge his expression. Reason told him that the doc's job wasn't to judge him.

"When I went undercover for Star Fox, I found things in Andross's research that… I guess interested me. It wasn't all death rays and killer robots like you'd think. Some of his inventions were pretty neutral in terms of being good or evil. The cables we used for the satellite we found Fox with, for example."

He paused to gather his next lot of thoughts. "I talked to Mom about them once. She told me that one of her deepest wishes was that something Grandfather made could make people happy again. After hearing how glad finding Fox made Doctor Reinard… It affected Mom. She cried in a way that I've never seen before. She wasn't sad for once."

Again, Dash measured the wisdom of his next words. "I guess it's made me wonder what more good Grandfather's inventions can do if given the chance."

Hudgens nodding, not showing any emotion which way or the other. "There was a time when he was Corneria's Chief Scientist. A fair, few scientific breakthroughs over the last 50 years were made by him alone."

"And he didn't stop after the Catalyst happened," Dash added. "Did you know that Andross changed the DNA of Venom's entire population so they could breathe the same air that we do?" Dr Hudgens shook his head.

"Imagine what those people could have done if he didn't turn their planet into his stronghold for the war. They could have traded with other planets, shared their culture, or travelled around the galaxy like people here on Corneria can! Instead, everyone now thinks that people from Venom are either spies or terrorists. Andross taught the Lylat System to hate Venomians before they got the chance to know them! Archimedes once told me that his home world is even more closed off now than it was before Andross showed up there."

"Do you think Andross could have chosen better?"

"I know he could have!" Dash exclaimed crossly. He caught himself and hung his head. "Sorry… It's just… Sometimes lately, I wonder what the universe would be like if my grandfather tried to move on with his life instead of declaring war on Corneria. Maybe he could have redeemed himself after the Catalyst. Maybe Mom could have gotten him back into her life. Maybe our family wouldn't have had to deal with the shame he forced onto us."

"Thinking about how life could have gone differently in the past doesn't do much to help us in the present," Dr Hudgens replied softly. "The world is how things play out. Life moves on with or without us. The only use we have for hypotheticals is applying what we wish for into our choices going forward. If you feel that your grandfather made the wrong decisions, then perhaps you should consider how you might lead your life differently."

A humourless chuckle shook Dash. "You know? It's funny. I've spent my life feeling trapped under Andross's shadow. Now when I imagine him staying as a good person, I realise I probably would still be in his shadow. Just in a different way."

"As though his achievements will always outshine yours?"

"Yeah," Dash nodded slowly. "Before my grandfather went mad, he made it his life's work to help people. It was supposed to be his legacy. But… what's my legacy supposed to be? I don't… I don't ever want to be the way that Andross ended up. But what am I supposed to do with my life instead?"

Dr Hudgens tapped his pen a few times. "What do you want to be?"

Dash sighed. "I'm not sure. I guess I want to help people too. I thought I was doing that when I joined Star Fox, but now it doesn't feel like enough. I don't see myself being a mercenary forever. But I don't know what else I want to do."

"It's best not to rush questions like this. Take your time, and I'm sure that the answer will come to you eventually. You are an intelligent and capable young man, Dash. There is no shortage of options available to you. And you have the time to consider them all carefully. As long as you are content with your choice in the end."

At last, a small smile touched Dash's face. "Thanks."

Hudgens examined his wristwatch briefly. "We still have half an hour. Would you like to discuss this further or would you rather talk about something else?"

It felt more right to stay on the current subject. Dash told Dr Hudgens more about his studies and skills. They explored career paths with Dash measuring how each option appealed to him. He couldn't decide on one yet, though Dr Hudgens assured that was fine. When the time was right, Dash would know what he wanted to do with his life. His one hope was that it would be something he and his family could be proud of.