AN: Just having a very short crack at some 'feel good'. The Star Fox characters belong to Nintendo. The other two, well, guess.

Deep in thought he was walking down the corridor, ears twitching beneath the green cap, and paying little attention to the people milling about around him. His steps were slow and his legs heavy, like he was wading through deep water. He was a warrior who had thrown himself into the Lylat Wars without the slightest bit of hesitation. He had always trusted his skills and instincts, which had led him to victory against all sorts of enemies: the vicious Venomians, the SharpClaw dinosaurs, the Aparoids who assimilated everyone in their path, the bioengineered Anglars, and even the most evil villain Lylat had ever seen: Andross himself.

Yet he felt a paralysing apprehension before his next mission. He felt out of his depth, because he not was going to be piloting his Arwing, neither a Landmaster tank which he was so comfortable with. He wasn't even going to have blasters in his hands. This mission was going to require a completely different skill set, one he wasn't confident that he had. Critical success factors seemed out of his control.

He stopped in front of the imposing double doors, adjusted the cap and smoothed out a wrinkle in his green Cornerian Army uniform. He felt extremely uncomfortable in it, but at least he was wearing his old belt with the Star Fox insignia, just as a good luck charm. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, straightened his back and open the doors.

The chanting of several dozens of aspiring students went up as he entered the lecture hall.

"FOX! FOX! FOX!"

The legendary fighter pilot and warrior Fox McCloud, hero of Lylat, was overwhelmed with nervousness, as he looked up at the rows of faces staring back at him with their eyes full of anticipation. He could feel their expectations like a suffocating smoke in the air, or was it his own too high expectations on himself, to follow in his father's footsteps and finish what he could not. Closing his own eyes he conjured up the vision of the rock in his life, the pillar to lean on as long as he appreciated that it was there, the beautiful blue he has so nearly lost. He recalled Krystal's advice.

"You'll be fine! Imagine a room full of your friends, people like Falco, Slippy and me. You can even imagine them naked," she had said while doing up his neck tie. When he blushed, she added with a sly smile. "Well, maybe don't picture me naked. Not when you're in front of the class anyway."

He opened his eyes and saw the rows of seats filled with Falco's, Slippy's and Krystal's. "Just be yourself," she had said as he waved goodbye that morning. And that's what he was going to do. He had to take his team out into battle, and they trusted him to forge a plan and show the way, just as Peppy had trusted him with the leadership of Star Fox at an early age. The trick on his own mind worked, and he slipped into the familiar role with was, confidently striding out into the middle of the floor.

"Good morning, class," he said in a voice with as much authority he could muster.

"Good morning, Wing Commander McCloud!"

"Welcome to the Star Strike program," he continued. "You of all students in the Academy, have been selected to this accelerated learning program because of your work ethics, top marks, and potential to become elite pilots. The best of the best!"

There were more cheers from the students.

"But mark my words, this will not be a walk in the park, and you will not be flaunting about the Lylat System in brand new Arwings anytime soon," he continued to some disappointed sighs from his audience. "Some of you may have heard rumours about me being a notorious rule bender, doing anything and everything to achieve success on my missions. Rest assured, there will be nothing such in my classes. The protocols of the Academy will be strictly enforced."

Then he waved a plastic card in front of the class.

"And none of you have seen this, which is my personal card, with enough credits on it for a night for two at the Luna Stone Hotel, all-inclusive. This will go to the first student who gets a lock on me in the simulators. Please note that I did not even say kill, just a lock. Good luck, class!"

Laughter erupts. Great, he had disarmed them, and his own fears as well.

"It's a date, Amelia!" said a beagle in the first row and turned around facing a girl two rows back.

"Give me a break, Biggles!" replied the long eared vulpine. Fox made a mental note of the cocky canine and continued.

"But before we head to the simulators, we need to recap some basic theory. What's a fundamental manoeuvre in dog fighting?"

A hand went up from each and every student in the hall.

"Ok, all together then!"

"BARREL ROLL"

Fox pulled a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. A hologram appeared floating at the front of the lecture hall, showing an Arwing repeating the same barrel roll over and over again.

"During the roll, the inertia within the gravity diffusor causes a temporary spacetime deviation, which enacts a counterforce and deflects approaching missiles in the direction of the tangent."

He pressed another button and concentric circles were overlaid on top of the hologram, expanding outwards and visualising how incoming missiles were scattered.

"Repeat that, Biggles!" Fox said with a stern look on his face and stared down the cheeky beagle.

"Err... Gravity thing can sorta bounce off enemy attacks?"

"That's a good summary of Slippy's scientific explanation! I couldn't have said it better myself. Gold star for you, but no cigar 'cos you're too young," said Fox bringing down more laughter from the class. Biggles looked a bit deflated in his seat, but he was still smiling. This was going better than Fox expected, and he was starting to enjoy it.

He was going to be just fine.