Dear Diary,

I'm going to need another notebook soon with how fast I'm filling up pages, but there's so much to write and think about. And that's a good thing! A little stressful on the purse, but nothing I can't handle.

We started the memoir today. I arrived at Fox's home early in the morning—Fay arranged a driver, being the hostess that she is—and was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. As it would turn out, Fox is a marvelous baker, and he wanted to make a small batch of muffins as a welcome gift. They were absolutely delicious~.

We took our plates and mugs into the living room and sat down. Being the good host, he asked if I was enjoying breakfast, and when I said I absolutely was, his smile brightened. We made small talk while we ate, and when we finished, we got to business. Where would we start the memoir? While I pulled my laptop out of my bag, he looked away with a thoughtful expression. Then he looked at me, seeming apologetic.

"Do you mind if we used a small chapter for the beginning?" he asked. "Mostly everyone knows what happened to my father and how I got to lead the newest version of Star Fox. What other private details I have…I don't feel ready to share. And I don't feel comfortable talking about my mother."

I said that was perfectly fine, and he looked surprised about that. "I thought you would want me to spill everything," he said. "Make the memoir juicier." Frowning at him, I replied that I wasn't a tabloid writer. This was his story, and he could tell it how he wanted, how he felt most comfortable.

He smiled gently. "Thank you," he said. "That means a lot. Truly." And by the goddess Maira did I want to hug him, with how relieved he looked.

So, we made the first chapter of the book an introduction and a quick retelling of the events leading up to the Lylat War. Andross's exile, the betrayal of James McCloud and Peppy Hare by Pigma Dengar, and the start of what Fox only called "some of the darkest moments of my life." We ended that chapter with the start of the first battle of the war for the newly formed next generation of Star Fox, the Battle for Corneria.

For that chapter I did all I could to not be transfixed by Fox describing that first test for his friends, telling of a Corneria under siege and the city aflame, how they in their state-of-the-art Arwings blitzed through Andross's forces and drove them from their home. Fox's tone was matter of fact; he had the utmost confidence in his team, and while they did mentally prepare themselves for the reality of war, seeing their home so torn apart was agonizing. But they persevered. I trusted—no, I knew—there were no embellishments. Even from only just meeting him I could sense that such things were not in Fox's nature. What he was telling me was the war as he saw it and experienced it, nothing more or less. And it was riveting.

From there he described to me the battle in Sector Y, the destruction of Andross's invasion fleet of Corneria, how Fox and his crew were the tip of the spear as they led Corneria's ship squadrons and punched a hole through the mad ape's onslaught. By this point, Fox told me, his team knew what they were up against. For how arduous it was up to this point, from those early victories came confidence. They had the means to win.

When we finished, that was the end of chapter two, and we both decided it was time for a break. Fox invited me out for a walk with him. I obliged, wanting to see the forest around his house. While we walked, I teased him about how straightforward he was being. Couldn't a war hero stand to be a bit more grandiose? He took me seriously and seemed worried. Was his tone too boring, actually? I giggled and said he needn't worry. His tone was just fine.

Then he told me not to call him a hero. "Why?" I asked.

"Because I was just doing the right thing. That's all," he said.

I wanted to press him and say that very sentiment was, in of itself, heroic. I didn't, to be polite.

When we returned from our walk—the forest was, in fact, beautiful—we decided to use a brief chapter to discuss his wingmates; a moment of respite followed the battle of Sector Y, which allowed Fox to take stock of how his team felt after their first two battles.

"We were dazed," he said. "Well, all of us except for Peppy, being that he was a veteran at this point. For me, Slippy, and Falco though, those first battles were a true test of our resolve. Slippy was a tad shaken up, as was I, and Falco tried not to show it. But then we felt relief. We got through it. Our skills hadn't failed us. If we worked together and trusted in those skills, we could come out on top. We could make it. I wouldn't say we felt indestructible, but we did feel capable."

I listened, and typed. I tried to see him, a big younger, there in the Great Fox after those first battles. Talking to his friends, calming himself, staring out into space. Looking determined. I remember seeing photographs of the team after the war, all of them jubilant and happy and relieved they got through it; there are no pictures of them during the war though, as no photographer journeyed with them. My mind had to do the work, but I could see it. And I could see why, seeing Fox like that, his friends could follow him.

We wrapped up after that, it already being late afternoon. We made good progress for the first day, and we made arrangements to meet up again tomorrow.

"It felt weird at first to just talk with you listening, but I got used to it," Fox said. "And yeah, Fay was right. It feels…good, to talk about it."

I told him I was glad. Indeed, I could see a weight falling off him while he talked. Just seeing that made me happy.

Now, at the apartment again and putting my notes together, I can say that I am incredibly fortunate to write Fox McCloud's story.

And also…I keep thinking of those warm eyes of his…

-Krystal

I did not set out with the goal to be as great as my father. What I wanted was to protect what was important to me. Lylat is home, and in that home is my friends and loved ones, and memories of good times. I would fight for those things. My team and I would do right by them.

-Fox McCloud, My Story. Chapter 1