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Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 21: And Reconciliation

“All right team, this is how it'll play." The briefing room was silent, all eyes firmly centered on Fox as he stood beside the holo-tank, the three-dimensional map outlining the vast field of spacial debris just at the edge of the sector in a bluish haze. “Intel Pepper gained from the CIB pinpoints a large concentration of Venomian remnant forces rallying deep in Fortuna's local asteroid cluster, stragglers from the battle a few weeks ago. The General wants this mess handled quickly and with discretion. What's left of Venom's leadership is still convening at the capital for the ceasefire negotiations. So we're left on an unpleasant technicality."

“Then why don't the guys in charge order these idiots to disarm?" Miyu demanded. A question similarly reflected in the minds of a majority of those present.

“The Venomian dignitaries have assured Pepper that these forces act without authority. Though personally, I find that hard to believe." Fox replied with an unconvinced role of his eyes.

“Assholes, they just want to make problems for us." Falco growled, voicing just what the vulpine was thinking.

“Say, is the Invasion of Venom still a possibility? Cause the idea is looking more appealing by the second." Fay offered her opinion with a distasteful grimace.

“That's off the table I'm afraid. So we'll just have to make do with these guys. Which brings us back to the point of the matter, how we handle this. Any suggestions?" Fox already had a plan, but he was always open to the team's input. Everyone deserved an equal say in what they did.

“Well, what are we looking at exactly? How many Venomians are hiding out there?" Peppy wondered aloud.

“At least two frigates, Raider-class, with an appropriately sized fighter escort. And with ROB's passive scans, it looks as if they've set up some kind of temporary base of operations on one of the larger asteroids." The map shifted, focusing on a large rock in the center of the cluster, an artificial construct highlighted in bright red. “We are too far away for more detailed imaging, but can expect a garrison of at least a hundred infantrymen, possible armor elements included."

Miyu sighed with false dramatism, the feline slouching gracelessly in her seat. “And once more we're sent through the meat grinder. Tell me again why the navy is distinctly absent for this one."

“The CNDF is still recovering from the war, and Pepper believes we are capable enough to handle this on our own. That being said, I do agree Miyu, it is a daunting task." Fox conceded.

“Daunting is having a fear of heights. No. This? This is just plain suicidal." The cat retorted, none too pleased with another apparently death defying plan by their commander. She had barely escaped the last one alive. A cat could only stretch her luck so far, only oh so many lives she could give.

Fox inhaled sharply, ear flicking in agitation. Miyu had become more vocal in her dissent recently, and it was somewhat frustrating. Still, he had to admit she was not completely wrong and even had reason not to trust his plans anymore. The last one had almost killed her and though he apologized profusely, he knew it would be some time before she let it go. “Your input has been noted. Now," he glanced around the room. “Does any have anything else to say, preferably something more upbeat then Miss Frowny Pants over here."

_“I believe this mission to be more than manageable given the teams proficiency." _This was the first time Six dained to speak since the meeting started. Clad in his unfamiliar, dark black uniform, the spartan had yet to adorn himself in his exceptionally advanced battle armor. From what Fox gathered, the spartan had just been finishing his renovations before being called up and he was interested to see what the supersoldier had done with it.

“Thank you!" The vulpine acknowledged the spartan with a grin, appreciative of the support, turning to eye Miyu intently. “See, Six is on board."

“Yeah well that's not saying much as no one can really kill him. Six doesn't have anything to worry about, whereas I and the rest as I imagine, are quite prone to dying, as it were."

“Yes. That's where the plan we're trying to come up with comes in to place. With it I hope to avoid all that dying business." Fox muttered dryly.

Miyu prepared another snarky rebuttal when Krystal chose that time to speak.

“Perchance we should hear out what Fox has to say. I am certain he has already come up with something."

Interestingly enough, Miyu almost instantly accepted her words, hesitantly giving Fox a respectful nod to continue.

This momentarily startling him, the vulpine took a moment to recover. “Yes well… thank you Krystal." He cleared his throat quietly. “As I was going to say, I have formulated a strategy for tackling this problem. It is a fairly simple one. The Great Fox is more than a match for the venomian frigates, all it needs is an escort to handle the fighters. Peppy and ROB will of course be commanding our dreadnought. Slippy, Fay, I want you two to provide cover for our ship."

“You got it Fox!"

“We'll do what we can."

They chimed in together.

Fox nodded in satisfaction. “Good, that just leaves the installation on the asteroid. Six, once we have tactical control of the local space, you and Krystal are to push through and make your way to the center of the facility. Recover any data pertaining to how widespread these remnants are. We need locations, numbers, and resources. If you can find it, I want it. Falco and I will provide aerial support in our arwings and try to keep the attention off you. Miyu, you will be on station to assist."

The spartan nodded gravely. “Consider it done, Fox." He was unquestionably unsure with the notion of Krystal coming along with him through what would no doubt be a sequence of intense firefights. But he would not hinder her if she so chose to come with. And he doubted he even could. Instead he would focus his labors on ensuring her safety, at the cost of the mission if need be. Yet he suspected it would not become an issue, a hundred of these venomian soldiers would hardly pose much of a threat. They were unlike the Covenant in the alien hegemony's unassailable power, and he had slain countless of their numbers. Nor would he make the same mistake again should he come face to face with another of their tanks and had already considered several precautions to take in such a scenario. As it stood, Six was fairly confident in the plan.

However, one of them was not happy with their role in this.

“Wait a second, you sidelining me, Fox?" Miyu demanded, clearly affronted by the position she had been dolled. Granted, she didn't wholly agree with Fox's plan. But that sure as hell didn't mean she wasn't willing to fight.

“We need someone ready in case things don't go as planned." Fox made sense but his reply did not state the whole truth. She would be useful helping Six and Krystal, and that is what he would have preferred, yet he could not trust that the two women's disagreements would not endanger their lives.

It grated at him that he had to make these choices. She was a member of his team, his family. And just as such, he had to look out for their wellbeing, whether they wanted him to or not. And this time, it would be best if she stayed on the sidelines for the time being.

“Come on, that's bullshit and you know it, Fox." The feline growled in open disbelief. “Don't bench me like this." She wanted to be a part of this mission, this distraction. As of late she had spent far too much time brooding about misfortune. The end point of her discussion with Krystal had left her with a lot to think about, too much, to think about. And after that, to put on what was essentially guard duty afterwards… What she needed was a break.

Surprisingly, it was Krystal who came to her aid as mediator.

“If I might interrupt…" The vixen raised a paw for attention, both feline and vulpine turning to her. “Six and I could certainly use assistance with our task. If Miyu could join us, we would not turn down her help."

Besides her, the spartan frowned. He knew they would not require help. He alone would be more than sufficient. Yet as he opened his mouth to voice his opinion, he felt Krystal nudge his boot with her sandal, she giving him a look that went unseen by the others, a look with an obvious inclination.

Let this go.

Confused but unwilling to debate the matter with her, he ceased any effort to speak, rationalizing that there was no reason to turn down an extra pair of hands.

Once more, Fox was caught by surprise. He had not expected that she would stick up for Miyu, thinking that their friendship had been strained recently. But if she thought it was alright, then far be it for him to say no. His only concern had been that they could not work together, but if that was not an issue, he had nothing to fear.

“Are you sure?" He tried one last time to let her reconsider, to which the vixen gave a firm nod. “Alright then, if that's the case. Miyu, once Six and Krystal head down follow after them and provide support."

The feline nodded, offering Krystal a submissive, but thankful smile.

“Any other issues, questions or suggestions?" Fox asked the rest of the team, all of who shook their heads in the negative.

Fox nodded in satisfaction. “Then the mission is greenlit. Peppy, have ROB bring the ship around the asteroid field, but keep us out of sensors range. As for everyone else, mission starts in three hours, which leaves you with that much time to prepare. Once you're ready, head down to the hanger. Dismissed." The vulpine shut off the holo-tank and moved to leave the room, the rest of the team preparing to follow suit.

Six was the first to stand. It would take nearly half that time to suit up and choose the appropriate combat load for the assault. Moreover, Six still had to run a full diagnostic on the sabre's systems. He had little chance to use it since the skirmish above Corneria. The spartan would have to check the fuel levels, ammo hopper, shield emitter, and the armor plating. And that was just to ensure it would function properly. Electronics needed to be updated, weapons had to be calibrated, even the thrusters would need some attention.

He didn't have a full staff of techs to comb over his ship and fine tune it like in the old days, and Slippy would be little help, more of a hindrance truly. It would take more time to teach the toad how to work on the ship then if he simply fixed it himself. Perhaps later, after this mission, he would start to train him. But for now, he had a lot of work to do.

The spartan made it all the way to the door before he stopped, realizing something important. Krystal had not followed him and he would not leave the room without her. Letting Falco past, he looked back to see what was holding her. Both she and Miyu had reached the center of the room before stopping.

At the sight of them standing next to each other, each responsible in some fashion for the constant migraine he suffered… well, it brought around a twinge of uncertainty to Six. The spartan ambiguous as to what was occurring between them. Neither appeared hostile, he seeing none of the recognized signs he took for their respective species' aggression. Tails were free-floating and unrigged, fangs remained unbarred, and their ears were perked, not flat against their skulls. Still, though neither seemed upset, the spartan felt a substantial sigh pass through his lips all the same.

Why did both women cause him such strife?

He supposed it was contention well worth having, his life having taken a most interesting turn since coming here, in ways he would have never been able to fathom. However that did not make it stress-free. He was accustomed to the rigors of tension, or at least he had considered himself once so, some time ago.

But this… this was an altogether different breed of conflict, psychological not physical. It was a battle within his heart, and he did not know if he had the strength to see it through. If he was not careful, he would not like how this ended.

Standing indecisively in the door way, Six waited for her, watching both women intently and hoping to perhaps receive some insight of his own into what was occurring between them. They were important to him, as members of his team, and in Krystal's case, the woman that had offered him a future he could have never hoped to have before. The spartan recognized now that he needed her far more than she needed him. Krystal was strong enough to live without him, did not need him the way he needed her. And he supposed that brought him some degree of comfort, to know that when he died, she would have the strength to endure long after he was gone. He knew what he had with her would not last, as much as he hoped and prayed it would.

He was a spartan.

One day, he would die in battle. His arrival here changed nothing. The spartan-III knew this to be a certainty. Every one of his predecessors and brothers in arms were destined to this dark fate the moment they had been taken. This would not change for him. As long as a war needed to be fought, he would fight it. This was the purpose to which he had been created to fulfill. Peace was a fanciful illusion for the simple minded, a delusion most people craved.

He wished he held their pretentious beliefs.

All sentient beings wanted war, otherwise there would be no need for men like him. He had learned this to be true. Coming here had only reaffirmed this actuality.

Yet, Six would not abhor being incorrect. On the contrary, he would be overjoyed to find himself mistaken. He wanted to have a life with Krystal, wanted to explore the bond with Fox and the others he had felt growing inside him these past few months. The spartan longed to discover what it is that gave the others their purpose once there were no more battles to be fought.

What Six sought were the opportunities ONI, and by extent the UNSC, had denied him. That was why he now fought, the purpose to which he had given himself till he could find theirs.

Though he was deep in thought, both women continued their discussion. It seemed as if Miyu was thanking Krystal for sticking up for her. This contented Six. He did not like seeing them at each other's throats, especially as he was nearly certain he was accountable for their strained relations.

As they talked, Six watched as Krystal focused briefly over the feline's shoulder, her emerald gaze landing on him.

'Don't worry. I'll catch up in a moment.'

The vixen's melodious voice fluttered through his head and Six nodded dutifully, offering her a slight smile as he turned to leave. She did not often communicate through her mysterious powers, mostly out of understanding that it unsettled him. He had yet to get used to the fact the women could contact him with simply her mind from nearly anywhere he might be, a previously inconceivable loss of privacy that would take more than a little time to adapt.

This was one bizarre universe indeed.

Leaving Krystal to finish her discussion with Miyu, he exited the briefing area with the intention of donning his MJOLNIR.

As soon as he left the room, the smile Krystal had been forcefully adhering onto her muzzle faded, she frowning as her attention returned to Miyu.

“This is your one and only opportunity to prove to me the sincerity of your intentions." The vixen's voice was low and threatening, a barely restrained growl emanating from deep with her chest. She leaned forwards, her nose a hairsbreadth from the feline's. “And no matter the decision, you would do well to remember. He... Is... Mine."

“Y-yeah of course. Whatever you say." Miyu stuttered, nodding frenetically.

“Good." Krystal dipped her head in approval, stepping away from the cat with an innocent smile. “I look forwards to working alongside you again."

Miyu watched the vixen leave, Krystal humming softly to herself as she stepped out.

The feline shook her head slowly, muttering under her breath, alone in the room.

“What have you gotten yourself into now, girl?"

*****

_ _

Twisting the device in his hand, Six tightened the last deadbolt in his breastplate. He could feel the weight of the armor as a minor pressure on his chest. In its unpowered state, it did not benefit from the mechanized support systems. Unlike previous MJOLNIR permutations, the LORICA armor system utilized servomotors that benefited the user with increased agility and strength. These servos were vital to the suit's continued utility, as with the additional plating and various accruements it could not properly function otherwise

This was both an advantage and a detriment. Such additions amplified his already augmented abilities to the point where he rivaled that of his predecessors, the Spartan-IIs, truly humanity's finest defenders. But they were also a source of frustration for him at times, the intricacies of their mechanics needing a subtle touch that required virtually more patience then he possessed.

Extending a gloved hand towards the stand holding up parts of his suit, Six retrieved the rightmost bracer and clamped it to his forearm, his free hand possessing a tool to anchor the seals in the thick plate. Employing the utmost care, it took him a few minutes to secure it in place. Gradually, sections of his MJOLNIR were transferred and locked in their correct positions, gradually concealing him once more underneath the colossal armor.

The procedure brought to him a welcoming familiarity. It had been some time since he last felt the reassuring weight of his second skin. The armor reminded him of his roots, but not in an unkind way. He was glad that his troubled past had at least given him something for all that misery. He would utilize all the skills that had been imparted on him to keep Krystal and the others alive. This was his new objective in life, one he often repeated to himself, almost in a ritualistic fashion.

Keep them all alive, whatever the cost.

Before he finished, he was alerted to the faint rhythm of boots coming from the hall just outside the room he had appropriated as his arming station, the gait and force of the steps indicating a female. Curious, he paused and eyed the door, waiting to see who emerged.

He did not have to wait long as the volume of the approaching footsteps increased and the door's sensor activated, allowing the person to enter.

Krystal stepped inside and Six took a moment to study her, something he had frequently found himself doing whenever she was near. The vixen had changed out of her civilian clothes, substituting the thin fabrics for that strange battle uniform that seemed more like a bodysuit, the one with the blue plates. Though not what he would consider to be suitable combat apparel, it was not altogether unpleasing to the eyes. He would admit that it did well to compliment her athletic, slender build.

In her left paw he noticed that she was carrying that odd jeweled rod he had first seen so long ago. Since then he had speculated as to what its purpose was, ranging from some odd ornament of office to some mystique antique from her long dead homeworld. He had not considered it high enough of a priority to ask her for its origin at the time, leaving his curiosity unsated.

Maybe it was some sort of weapon? The only visible armament he could see from her being a small blaster on her waist. If it was, he was undeniably curious to how it might function.

Silent as he was up to this point, Six did not wish to seem as if he was ignoring her. So he became the first to speak.

“Krystal." He greeted the vixen. Now that they were in private, the smile he showed to her was decidedly warmer than those previous and his tone was borderline delighted for one such as him. It was a side of himself that only Krystal had the honor of seeing, where he was at his most emotional… and fragile.

“Are you ready, Six?" Accepting his smile with a beaming one of her own, she stepped out of the doorway, moving to position herself by the nearly vacant armor stand.

“Just a few more minutes." He answered, examining one of his shoulderplates to ensure the deadbolts were locked in place. It was better to uncover any issues with the MJOLNIR before the mission commenced. For a thorough inspection, each piece needed to be examined as it was attached. As of yet no problems had surfaced and he was confident his armor had made a full recovery from its recently damaged state.

“Need any help?" Krystal offered, eyeing the remaining piece of his suit he had yet to grab, a bracer.

“If you can handle it." Six replied, a thin, scarcely perceptible smirk forming on his face, betrayed by the faint gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Eyeing the smirking spartan dubiously, she grabbed the bracer and lifted it off the rack… or rather nearly failed at doing so.

Krystal grunted in surprise at the unexpected weight of the bracer as it was nearly torn from her grasp. The vixen struggled with the slab of metal, straining the muscles in her arms just to lift it past waist height, all while Six watched on. His previously guarded smirk shifted form, until the spartan was grinning openly as she battled with a lesser piece of his armor.

She was stunned by the mass of this seemingly small hunk of metal. Its relatively minor size bellied its substantial weight. This bracer had to weigh at least a hundred pounds. No metal she knew to exist weighed so much and she could only assume that the density of whatever alloy it was comprised of was responsible for this phenomenon.

Thankfully, Six only let her struggle for a few seconds before stepping in, effortlessly lifting it in one hand, that grin still sedentary and unchecked on his lips as he stared down at her.

Krystal glared heatedly at him, irritated and embarrassed that he had toyed with her like that, that he had seen her in such a humiliating position. The vixen opened her muzzle, intending to scold him for his devious actions.

Yet, seeing that mirthful smile… so unlike the grim forbearance with which he commonly carried himself. She could not find it within herself to do that. The Six she had known months ago would have never bothered to do something like this, considering it as impractical, pointless, and wholly unnecessary. He was changing. And it was for the better.

Krystal's anger transformed, joy taking its place as the vixen giggled, his reverberating chuckle preceding her feathery laughter, two distinct and harmonious resonances she thought paired perfectly together. His was grating and deep, like a bear's growl, yet it was pleasant to her ears all the same, for it belonged to Six.

The man that she loved.

*****

Six stood on the gantry outside his Sabre, an open toolbox on the catwalk beside his boots. He had pried open a maintenance panel to get at the wiring inside, the color coded cords of fiber optics were spread throughout the ship, responsible for powering the countless electronics sequestered inside, which required his more immediate attention.

The hull plating had survived with minimal damage thus far. There were of course sections that could be repaired or replaced entirely yet he lacked the time to accomplish this. His focus was rather on the shields then the armor. The shield systems were delicate, exploiting reverse engineered Covenant tech much like his MJOLNIR. Which was in itself a small blessing, otherwise he would not have the expertise necessary to manage its upkeep.

At the moment he was inspecting the emitters that powered the shields. As of late he had noticed a deficiency in the power output, one of the more important reasons he had kept the fighter secured on the dock. Its shields did not function at optimal efficiency and he would not fly it until it had passed his rigorous screening. As he sifted through the cords, he wondered what could have caused a lapse in wattage.

He searched for burnt, cut, or otherwise damaged wires, anything that might interfere with the distribution of energy. So far he had narrowed the problem to this specific panel, a long process of trial and error involving the routing and rerouting of power to key systems inside the cockpit. Whatever he might find, he hoped either he or Slippy had the technical knowhow to fix it within the timeframe he was given. This ship was important to him for a variety of reasons. He had no desire to use a cornerian vessel and doubted any would be sufficiently sized to accommodate him. Besides which the Sabre was a far superior craft than that of his allies, even their arwings were low grade in comparison. It would be a serious blow to their capabilities if it was rendered unusable.

Which meant it was vital that he remained focused on the task at hand... a proposition that was made difficult if not impossible given the animated whispers flickering across the catwalk.

The spartan exhaled heavily in exasperation, neck bending in irritation as his helmet rested against the opened panel with a muted thump. He had been the obvious choice in leading the groundside expedition. No one was more qualified than he. So it came as no surprise when Fox talking with him some few minutes ago, explaining in detail his responsibilities. That put him in charge of the feline and vixen, a prospect he had already held great trepidation over. This would not be the first time he had subordinates under his command. But to be brutally frank, it was the first time he genuinely cared about his dependents.

Six would accept nothing but complete and total success in this mission. That meant everyone came back alive. This would be a simple thing… if he could count on their whole and unabated cooperation.

However, judging by the intensity of the poorly hidden argument being waged between them….

He glanced over his shoulder, studying them both as they were far too preoccupied to notice. This time, he could very well see their displeasure with one another, their body language afire with irritation and aggression. He had seen such reactions before, only in animals fighting in territorially disputes, like the Gúta on Reach. He wondered what it was that had them so riled up. They had seemed perfectly amiable during the briefing. Had he been wrong in his assumption?

Females were indeed strange creatures.

He was starting to think it would be for the best for all involved if he went it alone like he was accustomed to. It did not help that Six was painfully aware of the circumstances of this assignment. This would be the first time he and Krystal had fought together, side by side on the battlefield. And as much as he enjoyed the idea, it made him nervous. Neither she nor Miyu were privileged enough to have the advantage of a full suit of powered armor like he benefited from.

He was not so much worried about the aerial battle as he was with the one on the ground, where no manner of piloting skill would save them from a stray blaster bolt or heated shrapnel. He had already been present when Miyu took a hit, and he worried how he might react if Krystal found herself in a similar situation. For once, he despised his unfair position, benefiting from superior equipment and training than that of his compatriots.

He had far less to worry about than they did. Little more then a direct hit from an anti-material weapon would scratch the thick plates of titanium alloy he was covered in. If the spartan wanted to ease his worries, he would have to do something to even the field a little. But at the moment there was nothing he could do but his best.

And in the meanwhile, he could only hope it would be enough.

Six smirked condescendingly, an action easily hidden behind the impassive silver façade of his visor. He did that quite often nowadays…. hope. The spartan wished for a lot of things, a future, an untroubled mind, perchance even peace. But it was up to fate to see whether they came true.

And he had never known fate to be kind.

A flicker of light brought his attention back to the maintenance panel, uncovering the origin of his power complications with a faint crackle of sparks. A bundle of corded wires had been severed, by a shard of shrapnel from the looks of it. Damage he had most likely received in one of his last engagements, whether from this place or the other was uncertain. Lowering the panel slightly, he matched the position of the wires to the outer casing and noticed a minute breach in the plating. A brief scan of it brought a sense of relief to him. The damage was minimal, nothing an hour of diligent repairs couldn't fix, stripping and replacing wires. But in the interim, he would have to reroute the power through a secondary path.

A few minutes and he was done, shutting the panel and stepping away with a nod of satisfaction. The Sabre would fly again, and he could not help but feel some contentment at that. It would be good to be back in the cockpit once more. He had been starting to miss the thrill of flying. The few fond moments of his past had been in the cockpit, one of the few places he truly felt in control of his fate.

It was unfortunate that such pleasant thoughts were fleeting. He had not been in control of his path for many years, long since he lost that which made him human. Six remembered the man once called Spartan-B312, a bitter, rancorous creature with little empathy and even less humanity. Such a being had been perfect to suit the vile whims of ONI's more questionable sections. If B312 had been the mindset to arrive here….

He couldn't bear to think of what might have transpired.

Six was thankful for Noble Team… for Jorge. If not for the Spartan-II's patience and sage advice, he would have turned out to be a very different and equally unpleasant individual. Once more Six was saddened to be without them. If only they had lived to see this place he had unwittingly uncovered. Then they might all have benefited from the changes he continued to undergo, though Jorge would not have needed it as much as the others.

The gantry shifted underneath him, the reverberations alerting Six that the rest of the team had arrived and was likely ready to start the mission. Surprisingly, he held little of the anticipation he usually reserved for an impending operation. Instead, apprehension gnawed away at his insides. By rights this should be a rather simple and straightforward affair, kill any hostiles and recover pertinent data to the activities of the Venomian remnants, the kind of task he had completed countless times during the war with the Covenant. And it was guaranteed to be less hazardous then the skirmish on Zoness. Yet back then Starfox had not meant as much as they did to him now, and he was not as deadened to his own mind as he used to be. He was agonizingly conscious of himself now, almost to an unbearable degree. It had been easier in those days to lie to himself, less so now.

Six banished those thoughts, instead trying to focus on his work. The Sabre itself was in reasonable condition considering all it had been through, but that merely knocked away one problem. It mattered little if the ship could fly if it did not possess the resources needed to do so.

Its stock of missiles was utterly depleted and the 30mm shells stored in the munition hoppers were at little more than a half load. This would have to be enough to get him through the mission as he had no choice on the matter, but the issue had to be solved as soon as possible. He did not like deploying under strength, at least not when he could help it. Then of course there was the subject of fuel. He did not know what it was the cornerians used as method for propulsion, but would need to in order to find a way to keep the Sabre running. Thankfully, the interceptor's efficient fuel usage meant he had enough for at least a handful of operations if managed properly.

As usual, it would have to do for now.

Stepping away from the strike craft, he followed the gantry back to the main walkway, passing Fox and a few of the others as he headed towards the scaffold where Krystal's and Miyu's ships were berthed.

As he reached the vulpine, Fox grinned heartily upon seeing him. “Hey Six, I like what you did with your suit."

The spartan paused, glancing down at his MJOLNIR upon hearing his Commander's cheerful tenor. The overall scheme of his armor had not changed all that much. He could not find the exact tint of blue he customarily used in the ship's stores so he had taken what was available, which happened to be the very same hue they used for the arwing's…. well, wings. It was a darker and more pristine shade then he was accustomed to but it would have to suffice. The silvery Norse runes remained etched into his armor, though when the spartan had been applying the coat, he had, on an impulse, replicated Krystal's markings on his arms, an easy process given his eidetic memory. Unexpectedly, this had made her quite pleased, so he supposed it had been an appropriate decision.

The only obvious change, and what accounted for Fox's huge grin, was the bright orange emblem coated on the right pectoral of his breastplate and shoulderplate, the team's logo. Pride swelled within the vulpine's chest upon seeing Six fly their colors.

He was truly one of them now.

Not sure why Fox reacted the way he had, Six gave a respectful, yet hesitant nod to his Captain and resumed a mild pace to the other gantry. Upon reaching the branching off point, he halted, looking down the grated platform to the two females still bickering silently amongst themselves. He could have easily overheard their conversation but deliberately refrained from doing so. The spartan had no desire to be privy to heated words, having lived a life with more than enough of them. Instead he waited for the pair to notice his presence, Miyu being the first to see him.

Like a light switch flicking off, both women instantly ceased talking, turning slowly towards the towering soldier. Now with their attention, he crossed the rest of the path and stopped a few feet away. Although the rest of the team was jumping in their cockpits, Six was in no particular rush to do the same. He had already breached his usual protocols by coming to see them moments before the start of a mission. But there were words he wished to say, words he was not comfortable relaying over the team's comms.

“Six, why aren't you getting ready to depart?" Krystal asked, smiling softly at him. While she would never wish him to leave, it was clear she had more than a few words left to say to the cat. And judging from the feline's expression, she was of the same frame of mind.

“I could ask you the same thing." Six countered, repeating verses he had said long ago, verses spoken in a different tone of voice at the time.

As intended, they had the sought for reaction, the vixen's smile fading.

It aggrieved Six to see this, especially as it was he who had caused such a response. However her welfare was a priority that superseded her feelings. “I know not the reason you two are at each other's throats, nor is it any business of mine. And though you may try and hide this, I am not as blind as you might think me to be. I ask not that you bury your issues, merely that you put such views aside for the moment… please." He already feared for their safety in the coming battle that it was hard enough to seem them so full of anger. He saw nothing of the women he respected in them at that moment.

And that hurt the most of all.

They were shocked to hear him speak so directly, having thought they kept their arguments well hidden. Both had yet to truly understand how perceptive a spartan was. Yet perhaps what caught them most off guard had been the tone he took on his final word, like that of a child trapped between bickering parents. It was a vivid reminder that he was not as unyielding as he outwardly displayed… and of how important they were too him. It must have distressed the spartan greatly to see them like this. Immediately remorse hit the both of them. They had been so preoccupied in their quarreling over Six that they nearly forgotten the man himself.

Krystal looked to Miyu, sharing an unspoken agreement with the feline in that one moment. They would find a better way to solve their issues, and not forget who it was about.

“Aright," The cat spoke first. “We'll do as you say."

“We shall argue no longer. This I promise you." Krystal agreed with an apologetic smile.

He took a few moments to gauge the depth of their sincerity before he was convinced.

“That is well." Six nodded slowly, relief evident in his voice. “If either of you were hurt…" He paused, clearly unable to finish the intolerable thought. “I will do my best to protect you both. All I ask is that you let me."

“Not that we don't appreciate the thought. But I think Krystal and I can take care of ourselves." Miyu smirked, and thus winced as Krystal dug her elbow into the feline's gut.

“Of course we will. I wouldn't have it any other way." The vixen smiled in blatant appreciation.

“Good…." Six offered no more words, the spartan standing in an awkward silence of his own creation. He was inexperienced with heartfelt dialogues. But at least he had tried. Sheepish, Six nodded intermittently and turned about, tracing the route back to his ship, head ducked low in discomfiture. Things had not gone to plan. The troubled man had allowed too much of his core to leak through into his words. He had shown weakness.

Spartans did not show weakness.

But perhaps… he was something more.