I held off my story own story until we set out for some supper.

We left our floor and set off for the mess hall a few minutes after Shephard wrapped up what he felt was necessary to know, though I had a suspicion he avoided discussing much of the events of his early life―and not because he didn't find them noteworthy. I wagered that they were personal to him, so I did not persist in asking. I would not push him to reveal what he didn't wish.

The special today was a fish stew (unsurprisingly) with sliced potatoes and a slew of other spices and ingredients that came in through the supply line. It reminded me a lot of Aaron's headcrab jambalaya except the meat was actually palatable. They were also serving shots of a liquor called 'vodka', which showed to be a popular addition to what was being served as indicated by the thunderous clapping of hands from all the patrons once a few large bottles of it were brought out.

The kitchenhands had actually given me a whole bottle to share with my friend at my table for all of the deeds I had done to improve living conditions in Red Bay. I would have humbly declined if Shephard wasn't enthralled and waved his hand over to receive it―his boisterous demeanour speaking much louder than my modest hand raise and head shake. I supposed that I would better enjoy it now that I had it.

Throughout our meal, I summarized my current life in my realm the best I could for my friend. I told him of my orphaned and adolescent years, of Corneria and the other planets of Lylat, the plight of Sauria, and my eventual standing with team Star Fox: Lyat's finest band of mercenaries. I regrettably was not able to tell him all else that I knew he wished to know such as the societies I was a part of, the species that occupied the planets, or even planetary politics, as that would be too much to cram in during one meal. I would gradually give him more information over the following days the more we chatted with each other.

Shephard was an apt listener, interrupting very little as I recounted what I too believed was more relevant to understanding me. It wasn't until touched on the topic of Sauria did he began asking questions. "The whole planet was in pieces?" he asked, raising his brow after sipping some vodka from his tiny glass.

"It's true," I nodded, blowing on my steamy spoonful of stew to cool. "There is a powerful magic buried deep within the planet's interior; the global conflict between the tribes on the surface became so violent that it stirred the enchantments so much and it fractured the planet into segments."

"…And I'm assuming it got put back together…?" Shephard questioned, having issues with the logic of my recounts―though they were understandably within reason.

"Fortunately, yes," I nodded. "Amongst all my other quests, I hoped to find a way to restore the planet somehow, but my future team leader beat me to it when I got imprisoned."

"Hmm," Shephard conceded, hardly believing in what he heard though felt he couldn't question anything anymore. "Glad to know everything worked out for the locals in the end. Just what exactly were the Saurians fighting over?"

"Global conquest," I said. "The tyrannical General Scales was the primary instigator; he led the SharpClaw tribe against the EarthWalkers, CloudRunners, and several more. It may seem nonsensical, but dinosaurs of all kinds could move mountains if they truly wanted to. It was just a shame that they focused all of that into literally breaking the planet apart."

Shephard nearly choked on his food. "Hold on, wait. Did you say dinosaurs?"

"I did. Why?"

"As in, like…triceratops, brachiosaurus, pterodactyls, and t-rex kind of dinosaurs?"

I gasped, making me put my hand over my mouth in shock. "Yes! Precisely all that you have said! How did you know?"

"Well because we have dinosaurs here," Shephard said. "Well…at least we used to. They've been extinct for millions of years."

"Unbelievable…" I uttered in bewitching fascination. "This planet conceals endless marvels. Earth has variants of creatures belonging to worlds that are star systems apart! I cannot begin to fathom the endless possibilities that remain unseen in this universe."

"Yeah. You're telling me," Shephard smiled in resignation as he poured himself some more of the clear alcohol from our bottle, which was a red stripe adorned with a silver logo of a lion's profile. The bottle itself had just proved my point; a lion should have had no business being on this bottle in another universe, yet there it was. I began to wonder if all of the denizens of Lylat and beyond had a place in this world in more animalistic forms as well. It was quite a lot to wrap my head around.

"I guess it all makes sense in a way," Shephard considered, looking at his filled glass as he held it up. "Now that we both know that different universes are a thing, what's keeping them from being alternate takes on things established elsewhere? I think quantum theory talks about that or something. Shit man, I don't know exactly how to feel knowing that sci-fi stuff had more merit to it than we all suspected."

I knew exactly how Shephard felt. It was strange seeing avians, who were fully sapient and upright where I was from, were nothing more than tiny flying animals that simply cawed, cooed and chirped. I could recognize their faces; they were people from where I was from, yet their eyes here were dark and vapid. Shephard and every other human I had met regarded me with the same amount of bewilderment; my kind was merely an animal in his world, and I walked, talked and stood as high as any human. Since we were on the subject, I finally found myself an opportunity that I had never managed to ask since I first started conversing with humans starting with Aaron.

"Shephard?" I asked, making the man in question lift his eyes from his bowl as he ate.

"What's up?"

"I've never actually gotten a description of what Earth foxes are like," I admitted. "I've seen and heard people attribute my appearance to one, but I don't have a conceptual image. Have you ever seen one?"

"A couple of times," Shephard said, sitting more upright. "There weren't too many around in Arizona―mostly coyotes. But since you asked, well…they've got faces just like yours. Tall ears, fluffy cheeks, long bushy tail―the quintessentials. They don't have hair like you do though, nor are they blue. They're usually small, sly, run on four legs and make squeaky sounds."

"Well, is it any wonder now why everybody I have ever met here has met me like I were a hallucination?"

"Yeah. Me included. At first, anyways," Shephard said, shovelling in another spoonful of stew. "Of all the things to come back to, you're definitely one of the few things that don't suck about this future. I dare to say you're a rather cool addition."

"Thank you, Corporal," I smiled, touched he would regard me as such. "You've been a pleasure to meet as well."

We both tended to our meals for a little moment before a funny thought came to mind, making me laugh out loud a little. "Hey, is the funny juice starting to kick in?" he asked.

"No, I haven't had much," I said. "I just had a funny thought; what if there are animalistic humans in some world in my universe somewhere? What if they too have tiny bodies, run on four legs and make squeaky sounds?"

Shephard laughed mutually. "I definitely wouldn't put anything passed it. I see virtually no reason why that wouldn't be possible at this point."

"Quite."

It didn't take long before Shephard began voicing his own queries regarding the company I kept in my realm. "And your people, all around your star system and such; I'm getting the impression they're probably animals here on Earth, right?"

"From the several that I have seen so far on this planet, I am inclined to say so," I said, not exactly sure myself but hardly daring to rule it out.

"Your mercenary team's comprised of different species, right?"

"Yes. I am in close acquaintances with many that are of a different species."

"Would it be inappropriate for me to ask what they might be? For recognition's sake?"

"Oh, not at all," I shook my head, resting my arms on our table. "There is our team leader, Fox McCloud. He's a fox just like me."

"McCloud?" Shephard raised an eyebrow. "He Scottish or something?"

"I don't know what that is," I admitted, a little surprised―but at the same time not―that Shephard recognised this surname.

"Never mind," Shephard quickly dismissed. "Who else?"

"There's Slippy Toad. He's our mechanic."

"He's a toad I'm guessing?"

"A frog, actually. That is admittedly misleading," I amended. "There's our dearest Peppy Hare; a veteran rabbit whom we all love dearly. There are other close acquaintances outside our team that frequently aid us. There's Bill Grey; a Cornerian bulldog that's covered our hides numerous times in battle. Oh, and there's also Katt Monroe. She's a lovely friend of mine."

"A cat, right?"

"Hm-hmm," I nodded. "Oh, and how could I forget Falco Lombardi? He's the team's proven ace pilot. As brash as he is brave. He's a―"

"No! Don't tell me…" Shephard raised a finger at me in suspense. "He's a falcon."

"No. A pheasant."

"Figures," Shephard shrugged as he retracted his arm. "An Italian pheasant, no less."

He leaned back into his chair and took in what I told him. He concluded with a grin and a shake of his head as he reached for the bottle. "Well, I suppose Cole Porter sang it true, especially in this day in age: anything goes," he said, pouring himself some more vodka. He took a decent swig of his beverage, savouring its burning palate. "You miss them?"

I paused momentarily at his question. While certainly finding the names and likenesses of my friends bizarre like I predicted they would, he did not bother dwelling on the alien-yet-familiar aspects of them. He was coming from a place of kind earnestness, prodding a little smile out of me.

"I do. Very much," I said. "And I would love if you got to meet them, too. To take you and everyone here in this town away from this forsaken world and to my worlds. You would find peace and prosperity there."

"Sounds sweet," Shephard sloshed his drink, wearing his own appreciative leer. "I bet you can't cram everybody into that fancy space fighter of yours though, right?"

"No. Regrettably not," I said, my ears lowering slightly before they found a reason to perk up again. "But suppose I return with bigger ships? Warships. The whole Cornerian fleet. We could potentially topple the Combine's hold on Earth."

"Now that would be an epic sight to behold," Shephard mused, liking the promise of such a plan immensely, though he did not get ahead of himself like I currently was. "Why don't we see if we even can get you back to your pals first?" Shephard advised wisely. "I'd rather see you go back without a hitch than open the way and have others with nasty intentions follow you back."

What a terrifying thought. I had accounted for such a possibility before, but having Shephard echo it back to me reaffirmed that I mustn't get ahead of myself. I would figure out how to help my new friends on Earth, but that regrettably would have to come later after I departed from this universe entirely.

I have been steadily concluding throughout my life that coincidences are a myth, and the news that met me and Shephard minutes after finishing our meals further insinuated that notion.

We were on our way back to our building when we were stopped by Robert Bushnell. He had been dispatched by Mofuni to find and lead me to his lab at once, for he had finally managed to make a breakthrough with the wafting plates he had been experimenting with for days. I knew I had to see this right away, and Shephard tagged along for the ride since he was already with me.

We rode the lift down to his lab and all anticipation made me rock back and forth on my feet. "Do I hear…laughing amongst the sounds of our descent?" I asked my young friend.

"Probably," Rob said, wearing a pleased smile. "That usually means he's made a big breakthrough."

"I would imagine so," Shephard spoke, the sound of wily laughter abundantly more obvious now that we were closer. "Say, kid, could you remind me again why we instil so much faith in this loon?"

"Because he's still the best we got," Rob answered with brutal honesty. "You can't pick your heroes when most of them are dead."

"Ain't that the quote of the century."

I enjoyed the kind of banter I would see these two exchange in the brief moments that they were together. Shephard and Rob seemed to have been developing an almost sibling-like relationship from my perspective. They had only known each other for a little under a week now and they were trading jibs with each other like they were brothers. It was sweet to finally see Rob bounce off of someone who shared his often-withheld acerbic tongue.

Seconds later, we finally arrived at the bottom end of the elevator shaft, revealing the entirety of the lab. What awaited us was semi-concerting. Doctor Mofuni, wearing only his lab coat and undergarments, was presently riding a floating crate of supplies that were soaring around the room at troubling speeds, seemingly going faster with every lap he completed.

I would have found this spectacle hilarious if I was not more preoccupied with this addled man's safety, and the boys on either side of me were not quite tickled about what they were watching either.

"The hell?" Shephard grimaced, taking a step back on the lift.

"Oh God! He's gonna wanna feel the wind next!" Rob clamped his head in horror. "Doc! Slow down!"

Doctor Mofuni was able to hear his assistant and promptly halted his joyride before he could crash just before the lift. I put my hand over my heart after the high tension had subsided, allowing me to make a better visual assessment of what I was currently looking at. Minus the unflattering sight of a nearly-naked Doctor Mofuni in boxers, I noticed that the crate he was sitting on was levitating by attachments that were all too familiar to me.

A wafting plate was fixed to a corner of the crate, glowing a bright blue as their levitating technology had finally been tapped into by our local mad scientist. He stood up tall and proud atop his hobbled creation with his arms out, revealing to be holding a remote control of some kind. "We're making it big time, baby!" he hollered in triumph. "Finally got these little suckers working. Their yield and torque can now be activated and adjusted on a whim from my little beacon jobber thingamajig here!"

Mofuni's whimsical―and borderline maniacal―complexion grew more focused and opportunistic once his gaze fell more squarely on me. "I think it's time, partner," Doctor Mofuni said, returning to a more clear-minded and determined state of cognizance―undermined only so by his unsightly appearance. "Whenever you're willing, we will initiate the long-awaited retrieval of your ship. I'm just dying to try and work on getting her flying again."