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Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 18: Recreation Part 1

“So, you guys all set?”

Fox stood at the edge of the lowered main access ramp of the Great Fox. In front of him, the seven women who had been temporary guests aboard his ship. They looked better than when he first saw them, tattered uniforms exchanged and cleanly washed. But while they appeared well, their gaunt expressions spoke of their tortured experience at the behest of Venom. He did not want to imagine what they had been through while captured. Thankfully, they were now back home, safe and sound.

“Yes. Thank you.” Their elected leader replied, a female husky by the name of Sasha whose tone was heavily inflected with open gratitude. “Your team has done so much for us. I can see why the rest of the system thinks you are all heroes, because it’s true.”

Fox chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his furred head in discomfort. He had never grown used to all the praise that came with their reputation. It didn’t seem right to him, to be applauded for doing the right thing, it made it all seem less meaningful. “Don’t go on spouting stories, we just did what was right. And I didn’t really do anything for you. It was Six that got you all out of there.”

The canine nodded thoughtfully. “So that’s his name, Six.” She rolled the unfamiliar designation around her tongue. “His name is about as… odd, as he is.”

Fox laughed. “Odd… that’s certainly one way of putting it.”

“Is he… alright?” The skunk standing close to the husky asked. She and the husky were the only vocal members of their group. The others probably had more than enough on their minds already to keep them distracted.

“Oh yeah he’s fine, just needs a little time to recover.” The tod was quite amazed with the spartan’s durability. He wouldn’t mind having a suit of armor like that himself, though he theorized it was more of the man underneath.

The vulpine overheard a gentle thrumming in the open air, effortlessly recognizing the echoing dull roar as belonging to the turbines of a C-20 Starlifter. Turning his eyes to the sky, Fox watched the oblong military transport shuttle as it speedily closed in on their position. “It looks like your guys’ ride is here.”

“I was hoping that we might have been able to say goodbye to the one that saved us.” The husky frowned in disappointment.

“He sends his apologies, but at the moment he’s still recovering from his wounds.” Well… that’s what he decided to tell them. Truth of the matter was, Six didn’t want to see them off, said something rather… disdainful, about their need to thank him. To loosely quote the spartan, he was doing his job and he didn’t need thanks for that.

Fox decided they didn’t need to hear that bit.

“Yes of course, we understand.” Their leader nodded sincerely, the transport lowering to the ground behind them. “But please don’t forget to convey our appreciation. He saved us from a fate worse than death.” The husky shuddered; recalling what exactly that fate would have been, had help not come in time.

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll be sure to let him know as soon as I see him next.”

To their backs, the ramp of the transport descended and a small squad of MPs disembarked, moving to approach. They had been called in to take the women back to the closest base for additional medical checkups and possible reassignment if they were still up to the task. Despite the horror of their time under venomian control, the CDF had need of personnel, perhaps now more than ever with this new threat looming over them, one only a few people were privy to.

Fox said his goodbyes to the small group of females and waited till they were loaded onto the transport. Once it was back in the skies he decided to head into the ship.

He hoped they would be able to come to grips with what they had been forced to endure.

The vulpine closed the ramp behind him and fiddled with his comms bracer. There was one last thing left on his agenda for the day.

*****

Six examined the MJOLNIR suspended on its armor stand. Most of the repairs were complete. He just needed to finish the section of his armor that had been breached during his chaotic reentry over Fortuna. Everything else had been patched to the best of his abilities and was now just awaiting a few coats of fresh paint. He had already decided on the colors, something that would better show his reaffirmed allegiance to Starfox.

Once the paint was applied, the true last objective he had to complete was the bi-annual software update. While his armor was not equipped with an A.I, it did have the capabilities to accommodate one. But without an artificial intelligence, he had to rely on its standard equipped dumb ware, which needed to update itself every six months or so. He was actually a few weeks behind on that, but after the hectic mess of the past few months, it had been all but forgotten. He had bigger problems to worry about. However, now having all this extra time to himself, he was able to resume the handling of issues he had kept on backlog since before Reach.

He still had to comb through his suit’s passive cumulative database, revise his combat logs, and edit his battle records. While this process was rendered wholly unnecessary since he no longer had to turn over such information to his superiors on a bi-monthly basis, it had become a force of habit, something benign that connected him to his willfully abandoned past.

But perhaps it was not as redundant as he thought.

He was here now, glad to be, yet he was still not confident enough to deviate away from his customary routines. And he supposed he did in fact have a superior to report to. But before he decided to go through with what he was thinking, he needed some time to consider. Something like that would not be easy for him.

But that was thought for later, at the moment he wanted to get that hole in his armor fixed. Fortunately, he had the information and means to repair such a large crater. He needed to plug the breach and recreate the same bonding agent he had seen used before, of which he could manufacture with the team’s facilities. It was something UNSC scientists had developed only days before his relocation to Reach, a mixture of synthesized materials that once combined, would fill any breach in an armor system’s plating and harden over a period of time, reinforcing the structure. He had seen the tests, but this would be his first time applying it for himself. Hopefully it worked as well as it did in the labs.

“Will you ever stop working?”

The spartan paused in his efforts and turned to Fox, who had entered the room a few moments ago. He had of course noticed and catalogued his commander’s arrival but saw no need to address him, knowing full well the vulpine would handle that in his stead.

“When I’m dead.” Six replied indifferently as he set down the unrefined chunk of titanium he had been readying to mold to the specifications required. While he might not constantly be at war, he still had a plethora of issues to resolve, both personal and broad ranging. He was aware of the need to keep himself occupied; knowing that an idle spartan was not a content one. So it was for the best really.

Spartan’s did not handle tedium with grace, especially one like him. No matter how unassuming or insignificant the work might seem, no matter how trivial or odd, he would do it. For as long as his body was working, his mind wasn’t.

With the ever increasing spare time for thought came certain memories he would rather leave forgotten, things better off lost in his past. As long as he kept busy, his inner demons would remain dormant, as he preferred.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” The unawares vulpine moved to stand beside the spartan with a chuckle. “So… what are you doing?” He asked. An eye scanning the spartan’s neatly organized worktable.

The human waived a hand over the collection of tools and materials he had acquired. “Preforming repairs.”

Fox smirked. “You can fight on the ground, kick ass in the sky, strategize on an interplanetary scale, lead soldiers into battle, and even fix things. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“No.” The spartan stated confidently as he resumed his work, fitting the cylindrical hunk of metal into a piston press.

“Wow, humble too. You’re just the full package deal. Aren’t ya?” Fox muttered sarcastically as his grin deepened, accompanied with an amused roll of his eyes. “I can see why Krystal is so into you.”

“You can either choose to stand there and criticize, or you can grab that torch and help. One of those will not end well for you.” Six’s tone made it quite obvious which would be the unwise decision.

“And grumpy…” The vulpine mumbled quietly under his breath.

Six activated the press, the hydraulic piston condensing the metal into a smaller, more robust size. “I also have excellent hearing.”

“Of course you do.” Fox grunted and rummaged around the table, finding the blowtorch behind a stack of identical steel sheets.

Retrieving the newly formed plug, Six set it down on the table and motioned for Fox to get to work. “What brings you down here? I’ve seldom seen you around this place.”

He was indeed curious. Fox rarely, if ever, stepped foot down here, this being a location he did not often have need of. So this was a significant change in the routine he had observed in the vulpine.

“Well…” Fox began, flicking the torch on and lowering the nozzle to the cylindrical bolt of armor, bathing it white hot flames. “I had some more stuff to talk about.”

“Is it… about that?” Six vaguely alluded to their previous discussion.

“No. No.” Fox shook his head in dismissal. “Whole different thing, actually something I should have done a while ago.”

“That’s enough.” Six tapped the tod’s shoulder and he shut off the blowtorch, allowing the spartan to grab the glowing hot tube of iron in a pair of tongs and place it onto a different table, a hammer sitting on the solid iron slab. “Then what is this about?”

“Remember back when you first joined, when I said you’d get a share of the profits?”

“I remember telling you I didn’t need money.” The spartan answered openly, grabbing the hammer and slinging it down on the heated steel with a resonating bang.

“That you did.” Fox agreed with a nod. “However… I think you do.”

Six pounded on the unfortunate piece of steel for several moments without responding. When he did, the alloy had assumed a more narrow shape. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the vulpine with a pair of inquisitive crimson eyes “Really? What for?”

“There are a lot of things in life that can’t be bought with violence.”

The spartan shrugged.

“I haven’t encountered a situation where that was true.” All his life, he had used violence as currency, his blood and that of his enemies was the denomination upon which his entire existence had been based upon. Everything was earned through the application of force, whether for the control of a planet or the next hill over. He had no need for money, for what would he buy? His wants were not of the same ilk as the rest of the team’s. Extravagancy was anathema to him, a waste of crucial resources. Give him the means to fight. That was all he needed.

Or… at least had been all he needed.

Since then things had changed. He, had changed. And while he still did not see the need for wealth, he understood that in certain instances, things like money had their uses.

Fox frowned and advanced on the spartan, firmly grabbing his arm. “What happens when you want to settle down, when you’ve had enough, when you decide you’ve had your fill of death? And if not, what happens when there’s no war left to fight?”

Six hardly reacted to the vulpine’s touch, Fox’s words giving him a noticeable cause for thought.

“For me, Fox, there has always been a war to fight. There has always been death. War and death are two companions I’ve yet to break away from. They are all I have ever known, all I have to call my own.”

“Maybe once.” Fox retorted, determination replacing the frown he once carried. “But not anymore, you have us. And more importantly, you have Krystal.”

Six slid the replacement rod of titanium into the hole in his breastplate, a frown upon his lips.

What Fox spoke was true, he had Krystal. She had been the one to place him on this bewildering path of transformation, the one to make him reconsider many things he had once thought to be out of his reach. If he truly wanted to be the changed man he needed to be for her, he had to learn that not everything was so cut and dry as he had once been led to believe. Since long before he had been born, warriors had found equilibrium between their profession and their personal lives.

Now he had to do much the same thing.

But did he have the inner strength to embrace that change?

He did not know. But he would try, for her if not for himself.

The spartan sighed and stepped away from his armor to face his vulpine companion_. “Perhaps your words hold a grain of sense to them. Very well… what does this entail?”_

Fox grinned broadly, pleased at his small achievement, another wall successfully broken down. “For you? Nothing. I uh… actually set everything up last time we were on Corneria. All you have to do is memorize the finer details.”

“So you had already put the effort in… before you had my answer?” Six gazed down at the vulpine, lips twisted into a faintly amused smirk

“Yeah, wasn’t all that tough, just a couple hours I wasn’t going to miss anyways.” In all honesty it had taken him almost a full day to iron out the legal processes for the spartan. An understandably unique situation required an understandably suitable length of time. But he did not want to burden Six with all the details. It was a small favor, and the least he could do to repay the friend that had done so much for him and the team.

The vulpine could ask for no better comrade to have at his side.

“Is that so…?” The spartan’s smirk persisted. “In that case, I suppose you have my gratitude once more.” It seemed as if the vulpine was always looking out for him in the fields of life he had little understanding for. And admittedly, he could use the help. Normalcy was not exactly his strong suit, though he was doing his best to change that.

“Of course, I was glad to help.”

Six nodded to himself thoughtfully, a thin smile pursing his lips. ‘You always are.’

He had been right to put his faith in Fox all those months ago.

The spartan packed the bonding proxy around the newly mended hole in the armor. Once it had set, the suit should be relatively good as new, or at least as good as he could make it. While he waited for the agent to solidify, Fox filled him in on the details he needed to know about his recently acquired assets.

He had never been familiar with the economic system of the UNSC, so he was not certain if this one was remotely the same. But it was easy to understand, and from what he gathered, remarkably efficient.

Memorization of important details came as second nature to him, so all the smaller particulars such as passwords and personal security codes were simple. With those, Fox had also given him a tool for making purchases, a little plastic card. Apparently that was all he needed to carry with him, it having access to the credits (as the local currency was called), that the bank held for him.

The spartan did not know the worth of these credits, but after seeing the amount he now possessed, even he could tell what he had, was no paltry sum.

Fox had smiled at his surprise. “You did a lot of good work Six, and good work tends to be rewarded in my crew.”

Six was new to all this, and Fox had been kind enough to suggest a few things he might want to consider, clothes being one of the more important focuses. And Six tended to agree. His MJOLNIR was invaluable to him, but not something he necessarily wanted or needed to wear regularly. It could be inconvenient, and at times, excessive. But most importantly, needless use of the powered battlesuit could dull his natural senses and instill in him a false sense of invulnerability, something that had already nearly cost him his life.

Like any weapon, it demanded a certain degree of respect and blasé usage was both unnecessary and demeaning. Now that he was no longer on a permanent war footing, it did not need to be either.

“Did ya hear me, Six?”

“What?” He turned back to Fox, having briefly forgotten about him while deep in thought.

“I said that we’re going to be leaving the ship soon. I gave the team a few weeks of extended leave so we’re heading back to the villa in a few hours. You coming?” The vulpine tilted his muzzle towards the doors, already moving towards them.

“Yes of course.” Six nodded, glancing back to his suit. The bonding agent needed time to do its work, a few days at the most to truly set. It was a simple, yet oxymoronically complicated process. And his armor would be effectively unusable during that time. So he would have to leave it behind anyways, something that did not bother him as much as it might have a month or so ago. He had to learn to separate himself, both from the armor and what it represented. While he did need it, he did not need rely on it.

The spartan pulled the TACPAD off the armor and fastened it to his wrist. Some parts of it though, he did need.

“I’m coming.”

_ _

*****

_ _

Miyu stepped out of the packed hover car and turned to watch the rest of the team climb out. Once Krystal’s slender blue figure emerged, the feline could feel a grimace angrily tugging at her muzzle. There was still some bad blood between them after their chat, though it was somewhat one sided. The vixen seemed to refuse to fight back, no matter how hostile Miyu was to her.

Though now, a week later, she was finding it harder and harder to stay mad. They had been friends long before Six came into their lives, and the cat was finding it more difficult to blame her for what was essentially the spartan’s choice.

And she was starting to miss their conversations.

She had done her best to avoid Six over the past few days, not knowing if she might scream at him, or try to win his affection. And she wasn’t sure if the spartan had even noticed the change in interaction between the two women, the human usually busy off doing something or other to keep himself occupied, rendering him oblivious to the frigid stalemate.

At first he had seemed bewildered at having all this open time to deal with. But he soon learned to find a meaningful use for it, to no ones’ real surprise. He also learned what to do with the money he had earned. Now the spartan had a few side projects to show for it.

Miyu didn’t know when he became a part time carpenter and electrician, but the partially built cabin in the forest led her to believe he had gotten those skills somewhere. And though she was still upset, she was begrudging to admit, she was impressed. He had only started working on it the other day and already the foundation and outlining for the walls were set.

She didn’t know what he intended with the structure or why he was building it, but he seemed most content when he was working on something. That thing took up a large portion of his time and he had not once taken a trip into the city since they arrived. The only other thing he put his full attention into was Krystal, the vixen often going down there to talk and watch him work. And when she returned she always looked happier than when she had left.

Miyu’s frown followed the vixen as she trailed the rest of the team inside their home.

Why did she have what the feline wanted? At what point had she found a way into the spartan’s heart? By now most of her anger had turned into melancholy. Miyu just wanted what Krystal had, someone to care about her as more than a teammate and friend. She had intended Six to be that someone, wanted him to be so over any other male she had met in her life. His dark and penetrating aura drew her helplessly towards him, like a moth to a flame. And she could not escape the flickering fire of her desire.

Entering the villa, she watched jealously as the vixen swiftly vanished into the voluminous house with a flick of her bushy tail, no doubt to reunite with the spartan. She refused to be away from him for long, today being the most they had been apart, spending a few hours to pick up the villa’s monthly supply of groceries. Otherwise, she followed him practically everywhere. They even slept in the same room now.

Miyu did her best not to think about that.

With a sigh, the cat jostled the bags of food she carried and headed towards the kitchen.

*****

“Krystal.” Six calmly greeted the ecstatic vixen that had seemed to materialize out of the blue and tackle him with one of her increasingly familiar hugs. He had come to expect something like this every time they remained separated for an extended period of time.

It was… nice.

The vixen offered no verbal response other than the low purr resonating within her chest as she clung to him tightly, sharp claws pricking against his skin, a new tactile sensation that came with the lack of armor he was typically encased in.

The clothing he had custom ordered was not unfamiliar to him. He had given the manufactures a detailed description of the standard template for UNSC battle dress uniforms, though he had replaced the human military’s logo with that of Starfox. The matte black BDUs suited him perfectly, functional while protective, he having had paid extra for energy resistant fibers. After all, no matter where one was, one needed to be careful in this day and age.

But his mind was rambling; something more important needed his attention.

The spartan looked down to the vixen, a rueful shake to his head. He did admit that her emotional ways were quite endearing in their own singular way, though they had taken a great deal of getting used to. He was not accustomed to such a high degree of affection directed towards him. But he was starting to find it rather pleasant.

In the days they had spent together here, he had soon learned that she was a very… impassioned woman. Unlike him, she had little difficulty expressing herself, both physically and emotionally, those often going hand-in-hand, (or rather paw-in-paw he supposed. He had never really come to grips with her physiological difference, though it had never really been a point of concern for him.) It was an odd contrast in comparison to his reclusive and introspective ways, one he had not come to grasp with.

Six lowered a hand to her back, gently kneading the loose blue fur, just the way he had learned she liked it, and watched in amusement as her tail lazily weaved back and forth to the content beat of her heart.

At least she was an easy person to appease.

He regarded the flicking tail in fascination. The spartan doubted he would ever get used to the sight.

“How did it go?” He inquired, referring to the outing for supplies she had journeyed out on. The spartan had been, and still was, hopelessly inept when it came to the more mundane matters of their relationship. But some quick unobtrusive reconnaissance and Intel gathering with the help of Fox, he had managed to learn some helpful information. It seemed females liked for their confidantes to show interest in their activities no matter how commonplace they might appear. And while Six did not feel the true need to catch the details of what was essentially a “milk run”, if it made her happy that he appeared so inclined, he would endure that rather banal conversation.

However, it appeared luck was on his side this day, for the first time in a long time he might add.

“Oh, I won’t bore you with the details.” Krystal slowly pulled away from their embrace, keeping a paw firmly wrapped around his hand.

Six looked up from her cerulean smile, watching as the rest of the team entered the den. He felt somewhat uncomfortable at her warm display, or rather the public nature of it. The spartan could handle most of what she dished out, but found it more difficult to do so when other eyes were present. He was a very introspective man. It took no genius to see this. And these open acts of love (as he assumed them to be), were not easy for him to cope with. But he also knew of the vixen’s stubbornness, and if he tried to put distance between her and him, she would only retaliate with twice as much force.

This option was much easier to endure.

It was now team knowledge that something existed between him and Krystal, though he had yet to see any indicator that they knew or cared, other than the odd change in Miyu. The feline had become even more reclusive then he had once been, shortly after it became known. He knew not the reason why, but he was debating on whether or not to find out.

He might not enjoy finding the answer.

“Hey Six, how’d you like having the place to yourself?” Falco inquired as he made a line right past the spartan and plopped down on the couch, the avian rummaging around in the cushions for the TV’s remote.

“It was… quite.”

With the privacy, he had been able to sift through a majority of his old combat logs, a contemplative and somewhat painful experience traveling down memory lane. It was uncanny; to see how he had changed from the man he had been to the one he was now. He had transformed significantly in an insignificantly minor amount of time; his interactions were no longer so terse and detached. And there was an evident increase of vibrancy in his tone that had been absent, conceivably for his entire life.

It had likewise been… difficult, to watch his old team, the culmination of their lives and their deaths, recorded on a tiny data wafer no larger than a 7.62 mm round. They would have never been able to imagine what happened to their surviving member.

So far, in the last seven days of their leave, he had combed through the instant he had climbed out of the warthog, and every waking moment afterwards until the fall of New Alexandria. He had only stopped a few minutes ago when he heard the aircar approach the villa, and moments after Kat met her end at the behest of a sangheili sniper. His biggest regret at that moment, of all the ones he carried with him through his life, had been his inability to avenge her death. Even now it burned at him, his failure as a spartan, as a teammate.

He could scarcely believe how long it had been since the fall of Reach. What seemed to have transpired only weeks ago, was in actuality months, three and change to be precise. He and time had always had an odd association. During his prior career as a soldier under compulsory service for the UNSC, its flow had been obscured, days, months, and even years had blended together in a blurred haze of perpetual warfare. And as he looked back, Six found it remarkable that he had survived for as long as he had against such desperate odds, unlike so many of his unfortunate brethren.

Here however, every moment was to him, pristine in its clarity. He could recall nearly every aspect of every second he had experienced since his arrival.

And it only reminded him of the disparate nature of his past. If he had never come here, if the bomb had worked as originally envisioned, he would be long dead. And this unique opportunity given to him would be lost. He would have never met Fox, never joined the team… never found Krystal.

All his life, Six had not once considered himself a lucky man. Since the day his homeworld fell he had no cause to believe such a thing as luck could exist. And maybe it did not. Perhaps there was more to his being here than mere chance. It might just be fate itself that brought him to this place.

This life he now lived provided him so much more than he could have ever hoped to have back in his old world. But such catered itself as a double edged sword.

Now he had far more to lose, so much so that the very thought of what was at stake was enough to instill in him an unusual level of anxiety he had never felt before. His concerns were no longer centered solely on himself, but now stretched over a small group of individuals that had come to mean a great deal to him, as close if not closer than Noble. And his worries could only stretch so far before they snapped under the strain. He had never cared so much about a group of people before. And he did not know how to handle a once thought to be completely unbelievable situation.

It had taken him some time to realize the depth of his attachment to Starfox. Having given this topic much thought in recent days. It was they, or rather more so one special soul amongst them, which kept him securely set on this path of healing.

If he were to lose her or any one of them…

There existed within his core, an unfathomable darkness, one they remained purposefully oblivious to by his will, and would remain so unawares for as long as he could keep it so sequestered deep inside him. But he feared that if something were to happen to Krystal or the team, he would no longer be able to keep it contained.

He had learned a great deal under the tutelage of the Office of naval Intelligence, how to utterly and fully shatter the hearts and minds of men. Fear was perhaps the greatest tool in humanity’s arsenal. And he had become masterfully adept and precipitating the dispersal of terror and dismay amongst the enemies of his benefactors. A whisper of his alias was enough to destroy the resolve of most insurrectionist forces and their sympathizers. Even the Covenant knew some measure of his personal, dreaded reputation.

There was a reason an ONI officer had labeled him as their personal Grim Reaper, why the office itself designated him more as a hyper-lethal vector rather than a living being. They had molded him into the instrument of their will, led him to commit countless unspeakable acts in their names. And he would never forget what he had done, the suffering he was responsible for.

The Covenant had a distinctive name for spartans… demons.

They had no idea how accurate that title was.

Six had no desire to become that craven beast again.

The spartan felt a slight pressure on his hand and looked to his left. Krystal returned his gaze, a worried frown on her muzzle.

Sometimes he forgot how well she could read him. It was difficult to hide ones thoughts from a telepath. Thankfully his exceptional mastery over his emotions gave him some room to keep his secrets. He cared for Krystal, but his mind was his one and only true sanctuary. Not even she had the privilege to access its depths, both to safeguard his privacy… and protect her,

If she was ever able to peer inside, he feared what she might find, how it might alter her view of him.

Six smiled and shook his head, a silent signal that he was alright. She did not need to be weighed down by unpleasant thoughts of his past and future. They were his and his alone to bear. He would do his best to ensure that part of him would never again see the light of day, locking it away in the depthless dark where it belonged.

However, her frown did not fade. The vixen’s abilities, or more perhaps more her female intuition, told her such was not the case. But it was something they could talk about later, in private.

All of this passed over Falco’s head as the avian shrugged. Not soon afterwards he gave a short cry of triumph as he found what he had been looking for. “There you are you little bugger.” He grumbled in victory and enclosed his feathery grip around the rectangular electronic device. One, two, three tugs and he yanked it out from the couch’s cushioned grasp.

“Now then, let’s see what’s making the news today.” He angled the remote and turned on the television, and was instantly given something worth watching.

“….marks the second day of the tenuous ceasefire accord between The U.L.R and the Venomian Empire.”

“U.L.R?” Six questioned Krystal under his breath.

“United Lylatian Republics, it’s our government.” She replied, equally hushed. The vixen grinned and prodded him with an elbow. “I thought you would have known that by now.”

“Pardon my horrid ineptitude. I am no native to this system.” Six offered her nothing but a droll roll of his eyes.

Krystal giggled and nudged him harder, the spartan hardly noticing it. “Are you being snarky with me, Six?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The spartan muttered dryly.

Their little dialogue had gone unnoticed by the others, who were otherwise occupied by the news broadcasted on the TV.

“Well this looks interesting.” Fox motioned towards Falco. “Turn it up.”

The avian did as ordered and the rest of the team went silent as their attention was consumed by the seventy inch screen and its live feed of the capital building. Just outside the heavily guarded gates, a familiar leonine reporter stood, giving the news.

“The entire system waits in hushed trepidation for the outcome of these tense negotiations, hoping that this war just might end sooner than the last. I’ve been told that representatives of the venomian Empire have arrived within the city sometime earlier today and are currently in diplomatic talks. But as of this moment, no word had come from the Senate or the Prime Minister and we can only hope that when information is finally released, it will be what we are all wishing for.”

“I can’t believe we’re ending it like this.” Falco muttered, gesturing angrily at the screen. “I mean we had their collective asses on the ropes! I say we should have launched an attack on Venom and kicked down their doors, let them see how it’s like to be invaded!”

Six and Fox shared a knowing glance.

They knew that option had been denied to them the moment that alien creature appeared over Fortuna’s skies. While they could have done exactly what the avian seemed so sore at losing the opportunity to do. That would have resulted in an expenditure of life and military resources that they quite possibly could not afford to lose.

At present, the CDF’s fleets were in misguided tatters and the army, cripplingly depleted. The entire system itself was in disarray in the wake of the short, but costly war. They needed time to recover and prepare for the possibility of an outer-system threat. Six, Fox, and Pepper had spent a great deal of time discussing the gravity of their immediate situation in the days after they returned.

The canine general had been reluctant to a certain degree with the apparent drastic actions the spartan suggested. But he was not so much a fool not to see their necessity. Soon, the changes would be enacted. Pepper had already called for the reserves to be mobilized and the surviving shipyards throughout the system were tirelessly concentrating their efforts on restoring the battered fleet to its former power.

The Prime Minister herself had been informed of the situation, seeing as it very well might be both a military and civilian matter. It had been the spartan’s first time meeting the Lylatian head-of-state, but his intuition told him Minister Daala was good for the job. After a more detailed explanation on his existence, the female cheetah had supported the spartan’s idea for building more civilian shelters and was ready to soon start work on the civilian safety concerns, masking it as a revitalization of public security and awareness.

Everything was falling in place. All that was left was to see if their efforts would be enough to stop these aparoids if they did indeed intend to attack. Time was the only constraint.

Would they have enough of it?