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Heart of Iron

Chapter 15: Absent Horizons

Six sulked in the corner, watching the kats as they lived through his past with the aid of a TV. He was unsurprised to see shock and horror on their muzzles as they witnessed the fall of Reach, as one spartan fell after another, brought down by overwhelming odds. It had been their final stand against the might of the Covenant Empire. And despite all their valor and skill, there could have only been one conclusion when facing such implacable and numerous foes.

The spartan recalled the part they were watching, so clear in his mind that he had no need to look back at the screen.

The zealot managed to knock him to his knees, smashing his helmet with enough strength to send him reeling. Six caught the wrist of an elite before it plunged the energy blade it was holding into his chest.

Straining against the alien’s might, he twisted the sword and plunged it into its owner’s gut, peeling away armor and boiling organs, slamming his fist into the elite and forcing it back as he evaded the thrust of a plasma dagger to his side.

Six reeled an armored elbow back and smashed it into the offending alien, breaking its shields.

Suddenly, an immense weight was thrown onto his back and he fell to his knees, using both of his gauntlets to pry an elite’s clutch on his throat. He glared defiantly into its shark-like eyes and slammed a knee up into its gut, loosening its grip enough for him to throw the large sangheili off. As it sailed in the air he snatched his fallen knife and jammed up into the alien’s passing throat.

Six rolled to the side and swiftly picked up the hilt of a fallen plasma sword, igniting the blade in time to catch the pronged tip of another spearing towards his visor. The elite stood over him, pushing all of its weight into the sword it held, intending to force the weapon into his skull.

The spartan lurched backwards, throwing the elite off balance and pulling his sword back, swiping it across the gut of his adversary.

The zealot howled and collapsed to its knees, the alien’s bowels pooling out from the massive gash in its sternum.

Six kicked it to the ground and bolted, a pack of elite’s hot on his heels, bursts of plasma zooming past him.

The rest of the recording was his escape and arrival at this world, so while they continued to watch, Six slipped out silently. The spartan treaded through the halls of the enforcer building, heading towards the entrance. He no longer desired to stay here, he had showed them his past and they could do what they willed with the information. Right now he just wanted solitude to reflect on the events that had led him to this. The spartan could barely believe that less than a month ago he had been fighting on Reach with Noble Team. It felt like that had been a different life.

Maybe he was still there, and all of this was some strange fever dream as he slowly bled to death. Indeed that would be an easier concept to accept then the possibility that this was all very real, that he was actually trapped on this peculiar feline filled world.

Six grunted roughly.

He bet that his fellow hyper lethal spartan didn’t have to deal with stuff this bizarre.

Six had met the Master Chief a few times before, even done a couple of high-risk assignments alongside the spartan-II. He hoped that the Chief had escaped Reach before its collapse. If there was any spartan that could change the course of the war, it was him.

But those thoughts were irrelevant now, he was no longer a part of that world, he was here, in this one.

Six glanced around him as he walked, watching as the feline enforcers continued to restore order, clearing out debris and tending to the wounded. The building was packed with enforcers who had been on hand and civilians who had made it inside during the general chaos.

As the spartan-III marched past, he studied them.

He had seen more than his fair share of innocents unwittingly thrusted into the midst of war, and they looked no different here then they had back on Reach. They clutched their families close to them and prayed that they would live to see the end. Except in their case, they had already made it. The civilians on Reach had not been so fortunate.

But there was something different about these noncombatants, beside their swaths of fur and tails, something he had not expected.

They looked to him in a way he did not understand, he had seen the likes of their expressions before, but never directed at him or any other spartan.

It was hope….they looked to him with hope.

Six had never brought hope to people before.

He watched as they looked onto his passing with smiling muzzles and words of thanks. All they saw was a warrior that had fought to defend them, not a machine of hybridized flesh and cybernetics.

For some reason, to them he was not a monster that brought war and devastation to their homes. To them, he was a savior that clashed against the demons that had threatened to destroy their families and their lives.

To them, Spartan-B312, Noble Six, was a hero, the archangel of Megakat city.

They had seen him fight, cleaving through the hordes of reptilians that howled for their destruction. He may not be what they expected in a champion, but he was more than enough to play the role.

The enforcers were different, they looked upon him in admiration, saluting the spartan as he passed by and praising his efforts. One even went so far as to pat him on the back.

Six was confused.

He had never received accolades for his exertions. He had merely been shoved into the next combat zone and told to fight. And that’s what he did, from fight to fight, conflict to conflict, ONI’s personal attack dog.

This was an altogether new experience.

He inclined his helmet to the grateful kats as he made his way to the broken doors of the lobby, hesitantly accepting their praise as his desire for seclusion rose.

Six exited the building and walked out onto the torn up streets, finding a place to sit away from the building and the strange residents inside. He gazed out onto the broken expanse, filled with bodies and shell casings, the two hulks of the giant reptilians sticking out amongst them, another canvas of his work and an example of all he was capable of.

He had been bred for warfare. It was all he was good for. They had not taught him how to be normal in the training facility. They had taught him how to kill and how to survive. They had taught him to be a merciless machine of war.

But he could sense all of that slowly unraveling, the thick, heavy chains that bound his humanity shattering one by one the longer he was on this world.

Six found that he enjoyed the looks they gave him, even desired them. He needed to feel needed. All his life he had been told that he was unwanted. On Reach, Dr. Halsey had no qualms with telling him and the other III’s how inferior they were, how broken. He had learned that they were expendable assets, to be thrown at the enemy to buy time.

There, he had been nothing, another asset for the war.

But here, on this world, they needed him.

But more than that he was a hero, something he never was when he had fought for the UNSC. No one had ever though Six a hero before.

With all these thoughts heating up his mind, for the first time since he donned it, his MJOLNIR felt stifling.

Six pulled his Mark-V off his head and balanced it on his knee, staring into the soulless black visor, as the many enemies he killed must have, their final moments reflected back upon them.

As the spartan studied his scarred face, he could not see anything left of the child he had been, only the war weary man who he had been forced to become. Nothing was left of his youth in his hard sapphire eyes and rough visage. The war had stolen it from him.

Six slicked a gauntlet through his long shoulder-length charcoal black hair.

The spartan had not bothered to cut it back to regulation since coming here and he was starting to grow a thin beard. Six wondered what his spartan brothers and sisters would think of him now, with his ragged unkempt appearance. In fact what would they think about all of this?

For a brief moment, Six just wished to hear Jorge’s voice again, or any one of Noble Team. They had only been together short time, but he still found himself missing them all the same. They had been the best team Six ever had the privilege fighting alongside.

Sighing, the spartan slumped his shoulders and slouched forwards.

Why did all of this have to happen to him?

Shaking his head wearily, Six picked up and flipped his helmet, slipping it back on. He let the HUD run a systems check and saw that everything was running nominally. His armor was still intact after the battle and his injuries, while severe, were not life threatening. Pain had become so common place to him that blocking it out came without effort.

‘At least something’s going right.’ Six thought with a scoff.

There was a commotion behind him and Six saw a quartet of white dots approach on his tracker. Six was too drained to bother seeing who was coming and focused instead on the landscape he had helped create.

Was there even a point to what he did anymore? Did what he do here even matter?

The spartans thoughts were thrown to together in a chaotic jumble of ups and downs, from content to miserable in a flash. He didn’t know what to think anymore, or if he ever even knew what to in the first place. He had half a mind to just disappear into the forest, take back his old base and live there in solitude until the day he died, a forest recluse from another world.

But he knew he would never do that, it just wasn’t in his blood. Despite the uncertainty that afflicted him, Noble Six was still a spartan at heart, always would be. War was in his blood, he would carry on from fight to fight until he finally fell, his arduous existence given end.

The footsteps stopped a few feet away from where the spartan sat on the artificial ridge of asphalt and concrete. His sensitive ears picked up two of the four separating and coming closer, sitting on either side of him.

His attention focused on his lap, Six watched as a slender tan paw gently brushed against his massive gauntlet, enfolding its furred digits around his thick gloved fingers and squeezing reassuringly.

“Six….”

Callie purred tenderly.

Usually, the spartan would have shied from her touch, but he just didn’t have the heart to pull away. Instead he let her hold his armored hand and lean against his bulky frame, resting her muzzle against his stained shoulderplate.

Six shifted his helmet to his right and gazed upon Felina, who was smiling gently up at him as she rested against his side.

Against his wishes, a worn smile pulled at his scarred face underneath his helm and he gradually brought his other gauntlet out for her to grab, the feline quickly placing her paw over the spartan’s armored hand

If anything, at least there was something in this world for him.

Callie and Felina leaned against the spartan. They had seen what he had suffered through, his desperate fight for survival, and it had been extraordinary.

Here he seemed all but unstoppable, but they had seen his life or death struggle from where he came from, his fight against monstrous creatures beyond description. They had seen him fight and watch his friends die and could not help but wonder.

How had he endured it?

How had Six managed to keep himself together? Through the ruthless training and excruciating experimentation, the years of grueling war. How was he still sane?

And even through it all he still was able to stumble onto a new world and help save a city and a very grateful feline. The reservoir of inner strength that must have taken was something neither kat could grasp.

Felina had never met a male quite like Six, and she doubted she ever would meet one that could compare to the spartan. She knew that deep down in his rigid heart of unforgiving iron there was a man just like any other. He was just been buried under countless layers of scar tissue and blunt defense mechanisms.

Callie had at last obtained enough information to allow her an understanding of her protector, the reason he acts the way he does. It was amazing that he was stable after all he lived through, and perhaps he wasn’t. Maybe he was insane, but she didn’t care. Six would always be a hero in her eyes, especially now.

He had pulled through the terrible events that had been forced upon him and was still able to do all that he had done, saving her and protecting a city that was not his own.

And yet, she could tell that his past still haunted him.

Callie could see the chain around his neck, a symbol of friends lost. She squeezed his large hand tighter and wished that she could make him see how much she cared for him. He deserved to have someone love him, to know that he was worth the effort. It was what he needed to reconcile with himself. Sadly, she could tell that he had never experienced it before. It was in the way he carried himself.

The disheartened slouch to his shoulders, the defeated tilt of his helmet, Six had always been the supporter never the supported. It was time that he was given his dues, the man had done enough, lost enough.

Callie moved her furred arms to hug his chest, leaning up to lay her muzzle in the crook of his neck, uncaring of the fluids that smeared into her dress.

“It’s okay Six, everything’s going to be okay.” She whispered quietly and held him tighter.

She felt the spartan lock-up under her embrace, most likely caught off guard. But she pressed on, trying to chisel through his subconscious defenses. He had hardened himself to displays of affection because he had never once thought he would ever obtain them. But she was dead set on showing him that he was wrong.

Little by little, Six loosened and accepted her, moving a large arm and draping it over her shoulder.

It wasn’t a full blown hug, but it was a start.

The spartan let himself be content in their affection for a few minutes, but he could not stay idle for long.

He pulled away from them and stood up, brushing the flakes of gore off his armor. The two felines followed suit, standing up beside him. Six turned to see who the other two had been and saw Razor and T-bone standing there. They had been patiently waiting for him to have his moment before speaking and the spartan was surprisingly thankful for that.

“Hey, we’re gonna get going soon.” Razor spoke up.

“Yeah, we should get going before Feral decides to lock us up.” T-bone chuckled.

“We just stopped by to ask if you wanted to come with. Your jet looks totaled, so if you want we can take you with us.” Razor offered.

The spartan thought it over but after a moment of deliberation, declined.

“No. I will stay here with Miss Briggs and Lieutenant Feral.” He would not leave until he was sure the threat was over. There was still the chance that more of the creatures might come or one of the city’s villains might take advantage of the enforcer’s weakened state.

The duo nodded before bidding him goodbye.

“Are you okay, Six?” Feline inquired, gazing worriedly at the armored spartan’s back. She knew that dredging up old memories must have been painful for him, whether he would freely admit it or not.

The spartan turned to Felina and nodded. “I’m fine ma’am.”

“What are you going to do now?” Callie was curious as to what her protector’s next plan was.

“Perhaps I can answer that.”

The trio turned in surprise at the voice of the commander. He was standing a short distance off, holding his paws behind his back.

“I have reviewed your evidence, and know now that you are speaking the truth. Since this is a first legal precedence, I have to make the law up as I go. I think we can all agree that Mayor Manx is not up to the task.”

There was no argument against that assertion.

“What are you getting, commander?” Six demanded.

“What I mean to say, is that I have an offer for you, Six.” Feral elaborated. “It has come apparent to me that as they are now, the enforcers are no longer adequately equipped to handle the threats against this city and I am not so arrogant to believe that we could have been nearly as fortunate as we were today without you. So…I extend an invitation for you to join us.”

Callie and Felina were stunned. Never in a thousand years would they have thought the commander would suggest something like that.

Six took a moment to contemplate the offer.

It meant that he would have the support of the city’s military at his back, therefore having more power to move freely. He would no longer need to work amongst the shadows, or worry about the enforcers attempting to apprehend him.

He did already technically live with the SwatKats, but they were not stylized alongside his comforts. He was used to order and having a chain of command.

“I…will think on your offer.” Six decided to wait before making such an important decision.

Feral nodded, unsurprised.

“Very well, at the very least I can guarantee that we will not pursue your capture. As of now, you are free. Just don’t make me regret my decision.” Feral warned.

Six nodded.

“I will not.”

With that done, the feline commander saluted the spartan and walked away, heading back into the building, leaving Six, Felina, and Callie alone.

“So…” Feline muttered casually, taking in the desolate area around them. “What do you guys want to do now?”

“Now…” Six stated slowly, dropping off as he realized he did not know what do next.

“How about we go back to my office?” Callie suggested after hearing the spartan’s uncertain pause. “I’m sure your little squirrel friend would like to see you. It has been some time.”

That did not sound very tempting.

“Come on, after that we could go out and do something.” Felina offered.

Six chuckled, what exactly did a spartan do after a battle?