Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 3: Verdict

When it was all said and done, the CDF's casualties were mercifully few. Besides the one unfortunate cruiser and some fighters, no other vessels were lost. This had been one of the few battles in recent memory to so completely end in Corneria's favor, and the air of victory was tangible.

Fox watched as the CDF boarding party cleared the hanger of the captured dreadnought, muzzles upturned in revulsion as they stuffed broken corpses into black nylon bags. The methods and equipment of the one he had come to call Six, were not in the lands of restraint or subtly.

They in fact, left quite a mess.

Despite this, the moods of the defense personnel present were high, unhindered by the carnage present before their eyes. This was a major triumph, a decisive blow to the remaining forces of Venom, as well as a warning.

Corneria was far from defenseless; it still had fangs and could bite if necessary.

After this attack, the vulpine would not be surprised if General Pepper and Prime Minister Daala drafted a new war funds act. If he was tired of the venomians and their war lust, then he could rest assured they were as well, which could only mean that the team would be back in business again, a juxtaposition of relief and concern rose inside his chest. The assurance of more well-paying jobs did little to belly the gravity of another war.

Further youths would be enlisted for the military, and more lives would be lost in the name of their republic. War was a brutal mistress and she did not often, if ever, deal in benevolence.

"Seems to me that another war is coming..."

Fox turned to Falco, the avian standing by his side.

"So it would seem…" Fox agreed with a solemn tilt of his muzzle.

"At least we can start getting paid real money again."

Fox chuckled sardonically. "As always, your eyes lay on the credits."

"Is it so bad wanting to get something out of this? Don't we deserve a little compensation?" The avian demanded.

"Perhaps and perhaps not, I haven't decided yet..." Fox muttered thoughtfully, watching as the CDF soldiers screened the surviving venomian crew before shipping them down to the surface on a wave of shuttles. No doubt they were going to be taken to the federal prisons, not necessarily a bad way to sit out the war.

"Bah!" Falco scoffed and folded his feathered arms grouchily.

Leaving the avian to his exasperated thoughts, Fox instead looked to the point of many of the CDF's and his team's interest.

Working over his peculiar fighter, Six seemed to be in the process of taking inventory, delving through a large matte black bag and arranging a growing arsenal of weapons and munitions on the deck beside him.

He was a remarkable individual in many regards.

Upon clearing the bridge and discovering that their target had already fled, the large man had studiously turned away and left without a word or backwards glance. Since then no one had tried to instigate conversation with him, a far too intimidating prospect.

Fox did not know where he had come from. But he had a few ideas. Everything about him screamed alien, his weapons, armor, gear, and ship. All of it was unlike anything currently manufactured in system. Not only that, but neither the CDF nor venomian army had developed infantry portable shields, the closest thing they had to equate was Fox's own small prototypical device, which paled in comparison.

The vulpine had watched in awe as the venomian blasters deflected off the golden aura that had encompassed the hulking warrior. The speed and lethality in which he had eliminated his enemies was impressive, frightening, and more than a little hard to believe considering how cumbersome his armor should have been. All of this spoke of a man who had lived through more than his fair share of conflicts. And since he had never once heard of a nigh invincible soldier of fortune at any point in his life, Fox could only conclude that he was from a place far from Lylat.

What that boded, he did not know. But Fox was hesitant to let him out of his sights. As it stood, he still wanted the man's assistance, especially after seeing his combat prowess. Fox knew he was hasty in his wish to recruit him. Yet there were many reasons for it. If this man could be swayed to their side they would gain a serious tactical advantage over Venom. And if he was on their side, he wouldn't be on Oikonny's, not that he suspected the man of joining the posturing ape.

As the CDF units filtered through the ship, he had contacted Pepper and informed him of his discoveries and conclusions about their mysterious guest. Initially the aged canine had wanted to bring him in for questioning, but Fox had hastily suggested that they withhold on that. There was little chance they could detain him if he so desired to resist.

Instead he had offered a counter argument.

If they could convince this warrior to fight for them, they would gain a powerful ally and have a better opportunity at learning his secrets. Pepper had not been enthusiastic with the vulpine's suggestion but he did see the merit it held and greenlit the operation.

But that was something easier said than done. Fox found it hard to scrounge up the courage to approach him, remembering having been down the man's sights once before.

Why would he even agree? He had known them for the entirety of seven hours and if Fox's suspicions were true, he had no ties to them in any way, race or otherwise. But he would be damned if he wouldn't try.

Fox moved to head towards the bulky warrior when he spotted a pair of familiar females already heading towards him.

'Oh…this could not possibly end well.'


The tidings were grim.

Six took stock of his weapons and ammo and his already present frown deepened.

In the terms of UNSC gear, he had one MA37, one M45 Tactical Shotgun, an M6G Magnum, and a SRS 99-S2 AT Sniper Rifle, with varying amounts of ammunition for each, overall not much to rely on. But he did have an added bonus.

He discovered two additional weapons in the emergency kit underneath the pilot's seat, an M392 Designated Marksman Rifle with a series of customizable attachments and a SOCOM pilot's variant of the standard marine issued submachinegun. He found it curious since their production had been discontinued until a better design could be made. Still, it would suffice if he needed a stealth operation completed.

As for covenant arms, he had the plasma repeater and the needler rifle. But both weapons would have to be marginalized extensively if he wished to conserve their ammo, especially if he could not innovate a means to charge the plasma weapon.

It was a descent arsenal but most likely inadequate in his new environment. He had been tempted to take one of the enemy's laser weapons, but they were terribly ineffective in his mind and were fitted to different hands than his. The aliens' paws were not that different from human hands, but different enough to make grasping their weapons an awkward task. Their furred digits were thicker and shorter than an average human's, and it showed in the size and construct of the trigger guard and grip. The spartan would only use their equipment when if unavoidable or he found one that suited his requirements.

Staring at his assemblage of weapons, the spartan could not help but wonder if there was even a point to all of this. His gaze was drawn to the strange furry aliens in the process of confiscating their newly acquired vessel.

He found it all terribly ironic.

The UNSC had tried for years to take a covenant vessel and had never met success. And now he had been able to capture a vessel singlehandedly, but not for humanity and not from the covenant, rather a different alien race for this odd collection of beings he now found himself surrounded by.

Six held back the acrimonious and contemptuous scoff he felt rising to the surface of his mind.

What a waste of his abilities.

Not only had he been denied his honorable death, but it seemed that whatever deities ruled his existence had been unable to resist playing one last trick on him. This was not what he had in mind when he had activated the bomb.

By now he was more than certain that he was no longer in any place he could deem as familiar. This false version of Reach could only mean that he no longer had contact with the UNSC, and most likely never would.

He was effectively severed from all his preceding ties of allegiance.

But what to do with his newfound freedom?

The only moments he had felt at peace since arriving in this bizarre realm had been during combat. With it now over his mind was returning to its embittered thoughts, threatening to drive him insane.

With a partial tilt of his helm he exiled the approaching hell storm of enraged frustration and instead resumed his methodical practice of cataloging, hoping the habituated process of taking inventory would quell his torrent of resentment before it reached a critical level.

As he neatly arranged the magazines for his rifle, stacking them in orderly rows along the bottom lining of the duffle bag, he heard voices off to the side. Now, Six's senses were acute, especially with the assistance of his MJOLNIR, but he had long since disregarded the aliens around him, seeking solace in the familiar.

But, he could detect that the two voices currently in conversation with one another had him as their topic. Without a doubt they thought he could not hear their mutterings from such a distance, but they had no idea how powerful his hearing was, compounded by the amplifying abilities of his powered armor.

"Come on, look at the guy, we should do something." The vocals came crisp and clear through his helm, all background noise filtered away by the audio suite.

With his augmentation, Six could memorize targeting data and vital information upon first hearing or seeing it, so he had no difficult deciphering the owner of the voice. It was that feline pilot from before, the one that had stolen his kill.

"I do not think it would be wise to pursue this course of action, better to leave him alone."

The voice of reason was none other than that oddly colored female vulpine.

Shifting his eyes to the left allowed the spartan to see the two close to his ship, but not too close to attract the attention of a normal person. Unfortunately for them he was no normal person. War had turned the spartan-III into a cautious man.

The cat sat lounging on a crate of freshly loaded supplies and the fox was standing beside her, obviously in discomfort.

Six would never admit it, but her anxiety amused him.

"Hey, he's part of our team now. We have an obligation to him" The cat argued in his defense, for what he was unaware.

"Briefly…he was briefly a part of our team." The vixen denied adamantly.

Six was not quite sure what he had done to gain the fox's ire, not that he would care.

The spartan heard the cat scoff and start to move, jumping off the crate. "You are not acting like yourself Krystal. Fine, I'll go on my own."

"M-Miyu, spirits damn you!" The vixen spluttered before she stumbled after her bold companion.

Six turned to watch them approach, unhurriedly loading a fresh batch of shells into his shotgun, intending to store the weapon away.

The feline eyed the scatter weapon warily as she stopped at the edge of his subconsciously established safe zone.

"Howdy there partner, you did good work out there today. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me some of those tricks of yours later." She was clearly attempting to broker a friendly atmosphere with him.

In response, Six finished loading his weapon and pumped the receiver, his silver visor staring blankly back at her.

The spartan was not good at reading animalian body language. But he was confident that the way her tail was standing straight up like a rod implied he was projecting a not so pleasant aura as she.

Six let her sweat for a few extra seconds before he dained to respond. He did not wage war for attention or recognition; he fought because it was what he had been born to do. War fabricated the entirety of his existence.

"I have no need for praise."

The cat recovered with admirable swiftness, shaking off his intentional antipathy without an outward sign of displeasure.

"Oh come one. Everybody needs a little applause now and again."

"I am not everybody." He refuted blandly.

"Heh…I can see that." The cat conceded with a loose chuckle, nervously picking at the tactical webbing on her impressive bosom. No doubt a normal man might have been easily seduced by such an exotic woman, but her feminine properties held no sway over him. That part of his humanity had died long ago.

Still, he decided that being obstinate would get him nowhere. For now he should at least attempt to be cordial with her and the other aliens.

"Your aptitude for flight is commendable," was the best he could offer.

For whatever reason, his bland factual statement elicited a broad smile and husky chuckle from the curvaceous feline. "See, a little praise can go a long way." The cheshire grin of hers shifted to something more inviting.

Whatever she was insinuating was beyond his comprehension, but the vixen was eyeing her friend in mortification.

Six's patience was not infinite. The spartan rested the shotgun on his shoulderplate.

"Why have you come here?"

If further daunted, the feline did not show it. Instead she walked around him to lean against his sabre with a pout that would stir up the hot blood of most males with its enticing promises, but had no effect on the spartan.

"Is it so bad that I wanted to strike up some friendly conversation?"

Six was nonplussed as how to respond. He had very little experience with females in either the army or the civilian populace. Kat was a spartan and therefore an exception. And now, he was not only faced with a female, but an alien female. The only aliens he neared were treated to the serrated edge of his combat knife. For the first time in a long time, he was uncertain. Six was not a sociable man by any means like Jorge had been, he lacked the big man's…finesse, when it came to things like this. The few noncombatants he interacted with tended to die unpleasant deaths. The covenant was a terrible foe and it was all but impossible to fight them and keep civilians safely out of the crossfire, the pious aliens often purposely seeking them out. Even the marines under his command did not tend to live longer than the ones they were tasked with defending.

Six could not afford to let people get close to him, not anymore. Noble team had been a grim aide-mémoire of this fact.

"It could be." He replied, his typically confrontational and curt voice holding little of its subconscious menace. The spartan unconsciously placed a gauntlet on his breastplate, resting his gloved hand on the latch of a closed magazine container, what had once held ammunition now cradling something of symbolic importance to him.

The feline's contrived pout slowly disappeared, replaced by a look of thoughtful intrigue. Where Krystal's abilities were inherited with her powers, Miyu had gained a natural sort of sixth sense when it came to others. And while it was difficult to cypher through his closely guarded words, she could tell he had been the victim of a lot of hurt in his life.

Usually, teasing men was a game to her. Miyu had long ago learned that most men did not speak with her because of her sparkling personality. And so she had decided to give as she got, fighting back with feminine wiles. But that was all they were, empty verses and actions that she had used enough that they were almost second nature. It was no surprise she was an excellent judge of the quality and veracity of other people's words.

So the cat was quite startled when she thoughtlessly threw away her usual repertoire of rehearsed rhetoric, leaning forwards from the large starship with a fierce grin. "Well big guy, I ain't a fan of backing down, which means that you're just going to have to deal with a little affable chatter."

With other men she would have given up once receiving the cold shoulder. But with him, she felt the desire to keep pushing, why she did so, remained indeterminable.

Krystal studied her friend closely. The vixen had gotten to know the feline for quite some time, and she was able to tell that this varied from Miyu's normal practice of pursuing males. What she could not tell, was why the cat's efforts caused a pang of jealousy to coalesce in her heart.

Why would she care if Miyu tried to beguile the brutish man? He was a pigheaded ruffian and a coarse one at that. She had seen better etiquette from Falco, and that avian was insufferably ill-mannered almost every second of the day. It was only with great restraint that she had not thrown herself at him with claws bared.

"Very well…"

The unwelcomingly familiar rawness of the armored giant's speech, dragged the vixen from her irritable musing and she shifted her muzzle back up to see him staring at Miyu, although she had the distinct feeling that the gaze hidden underneath that silvery screen roamed past the feline and the hanger behind her, even past the vastness of space itself, beyond what normal eyes could ever aspire to see. And for a brief nearly imperceptible moment, she could sense a fraction of what he concealed behind his closely guarded mind…grief.

What had he lost to make him feel so much pain? Only she had felt this, Miyu remaining hopelessly oblivious.

"That's more like it!" The cat exclaimed in flamboyant satisfaction at having made some headway.

"What do you…wish to speak of?" The lack of enthusiasm and foreboding reluctance that all but oozed from the armored warrior held stock that his stance firmly opposed hers.

"Well…." The cat's response died on her lips. She had not expected that he would actually cave in to her questioning and had not thought that far ahead.

Thankfully, she was rescued by the arrival of Fox, the vulpine entering the conversation with his trademark grin, the one that you could see plastered on almost every recruitment poster from Corneria to Fortuna. The army had no problem with using his likeness to boost recruitment rates across the system. Everyone had heard of Fox Mccloud and his series of successful campaigns against Andross. He was a system wide hero and famous celebrity.

After all this time, he still wasn't sure what to think about that.

The way the cornerian populace seemed to, glorify his tales was…unsettling. The vulpine was not afraid to admit it. He killed people for a living, that's what mercenaries did. But to become famous from it, to receive admiration and publicity, that didn't feel right to him.

"I'm glad to see you all getting along so well." The vulpine observed with a relieved chuckle, concealing his disturbed thoughts with his usual cheer.

Krystal wouldn't call what they were doing, 'getting along'. It felt more like he was simply tolerating their presence. And what tolerance he had was quickly fading, evident by his subtly tightened grasp on his weapon.

"Yeah, he's a big softy under all that plate I tell ya." Miyu slapped his forearm comradely, her paw unable to reach any higher.

Fox watched in trepidation as the behemoth of a warrior stiffened at the feline's touch and his shotgun twitched. But, thankfully it remained firmly rested on his shoulder and the vulpine sighed quietly in relief.

The cat was playing with fire, and if she kept this up, she was likely to get burned…or shot full of holes. Neither would be pleasant.

"Anyways….." Fox dragged on, turning to the looming man himself.

The giant's helmet rotated to the vulpine and the flat silver stare from his visor interrupted Fox's chain of thought. That solid impenetrable wall of shining silver was…unnerving to say the least. Fox was reminded that he had no idea what the man looked like underneath his obscuring helm, or what he was thinking. There was no facial que to read, no telling shift of the brow or crinkle of fur on the cheek. All he had to go on was his voice alone, and that in itself was an almost impossible nut to crack.

Fox coughed awkwardly in the developing silence and cleared his throat, getting down to why he had walked over in the first place.

"You did excellent work out there today. Not any old pilot can take down a venomian battlecruiser and then guide a wounded ship back home. If you were in the CDF you would have definitely received a medal for valor in combat. But…since you are not technically affiliated with us, all I can offer is my gratitude."

The soldier's helmet twitched a fraction, an action that Fox would not have been able to notice without his sharp eyes. What it signified he did not know, but he doubted it was a good thing.

"I did not fight for gratification, or for renown."

"Then….why did you fight?" Krystal inquired, her turquoise gaze, narrowing on his hulking frame suspiciously.

"That, is an answer I will keep for myself." He replied guardedly.

Fox placed a halting paw on the vixen's shoulder before she could launch a caustic tirade at the unyielding warrior. He was certain that it would not help his chances at trying to recruit Six.

"Of course, we respect your privacy." Fox flashed the vixen a warning glare, Krystal snorting and crossing her arms in distaste.

Fox knew she would have words with him later, especially after what he would say next, but for now, he needed everything to go perfectly.

Six hesitantly released a small thankful nod, nothing more than a quick dip of his helmet and Fox knew that this was his only chance to ask.

"There is however…one other thing I can offer you."

"You cannot be serious, Fox?" Krystal huffed in indignation, glaring daggers into the vulpine's back. She knew what he wished to ask, and judging from her response, was not thrilled with the prospect.

All Miyu did was grin.

Fox ignored Krystal and focused on the one in front of him.

"I would like to propose a place on my team, if you would accept." Knowing that his potentially new member might speedily decline, Fox was quick to explain the prospective benefits.

"If you were to join, you would of course earn an equal share of the profits and have a place to stay as well as berth your fighter. This would also include access to the team's resources and intelligence."

Fox watched as his words sunk in, cursing the obliqueness of the soldier's visor. It gave no clues as to what he was thinking.

"So…what do you say, you in?" The vulpine asked hopefully.

The other pilot did not respond for several tense moments, Fox starting to wither under that piercing and yet impervious silver mask.

"I have no need for currency." He declared jaggedly.

Fox winced.

"However…."

The vulpine looked up hopefully.

"I will think on your offer. Give me a few minutes alone." His visor was pointedly directed at the trio.

"Of course, take all the time you need." Fox grinned broadly, all his fabled charm and warmth flowing back into him. The orange furred vulpine ushered his team away, letting the man ruminate with his thoughts.


Six's hidden eyes watched as the strange party of aliens departed, passing through the slowly emptying hanger back towards their cohorts. The cerulean vixen seemed to be in an animated discussion with the other one of her species. And from his look, he was receiving quite the verbal thrashing. It did not take a genius to see why she was upset.

He had been just as if not more heated when he had been told of his new orders to join Noble Team, although he had handled his aggression far more effectively. It was no easy thing, bringing a new person into the fold. A team needed to trust each other without reservation or doubt if they would ever stand a chance of working together. This had been easier for him and Noble Team. They were spartans. No matter the friction as a team, they would watch each other's backs, even give their lives if need be...and they had.

No.

What he was concerned about was whether he should accept the proposal. Six didn't know what he was doing anymore, he hadn't since he awoke in his sabre and stepped aboard this crazy train of his new reality. He had blindly rushed into a conflict he knew nothing about and taken lives he knew not exactly what they had done wrong to deserve such a fate. That all stemmed off of one crucial fact.

He needed information.

Unfortunately, as it stood presently, his best outlet of knowledge was this strange alien mercenary company.

Six was not a fan of mercenaries, and he would rather die than stoop to their level.

Or at least he would have before all of this befell him. Now, it would have to be a necessary evil, one that twisted his gut nonetheless.

His thoughts were still plagued with the knowledge that he no longer was in a position to fulfill his duty to humanity, or if there was even a humanity to serve. His life had come crashing down around him, like Reach's orbital elevator.

He had no pre-structured path to follow, no chain of command to lead him. For once, the way he directed his life was his choice alone to make.

It frightened him.

Since he had been taken by ONI, he had lived by their authoritarian rules and strict regulations, following their exacting commands without hesitation. That austerely controlled environment had been what he was raised with, molded into an assassin who held no trace of hesitation in his duty, a warrior that fought without the fear of death, only defeat and failure held any sway over his heart. He had killed his first man at the age of ten, and the body count only rose exponentially higher as the years passed. He knew exactly how many lived he had taken, both alien and human. It was a number that even he did not wish to think about, far exceeding a thousand.

Now, he was forced to be his own master.

The spartan-III sighed in resignation, his decision made.


"Are out of your mind, Fox?!"

The vulpine grinned weakly as he weathered the vixen's fierce diatribe. He had a feeling that she would be opposed to his offer, but he had not anticipated the level at which she would make her displeasure known.

"Come on Krys."

"Don't you come on Krys me!" She cut him off with an annoyed bark. "Why you insist on recruiting this absolute stranger is beyond me. He may have helped us, but why? We know nothing about him, why he's here, who he is, or what his intentions are."

"That's why I asked him Krys." Fox retorted evenly, watching as the vixen suddenly ceased her rant and eyed him suspiciously.

"Say again?"

"That's why I asked him." Fox repeated. "This is our best and only chance of having these questions answered. As it stood I doubted we could just force what we wanted to know out of him. You saw what he did to those venomian soldiers. I for one would rather stay on his good side. And if we could have him fight for us in the meanwhile all the better."

The vixen's scowl vanished, supplanted with a pursed lipped frown.

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"You were too busy trying to bite my head off." Fox muttered in exasperation.

"Perhaps I was…too hasty in my assumptions and for that I apologize. I do not know what it is about this man, but he makes me wary." Krystal briefly looked past her shoulder at the stranger, currently in the process of stowing away his gear, whatever he had planned for it completed.

"Are your senses telling you anything?" Miyu wondered, the feline choosing to jump in now that her friends wrath had been cooled.

"No…" The vixen replied thoughtfully staring into the deck before her hindpaws. "They have been largely quite in regards to this Six character, and that's why I don't like this plan. There isn't a person alive I can't get a read off of, except him. I am unsure what this means."

"He can't be that bad, he fought the venomians. He even saved the CNDF Honorbound." Fox prompted.

"This is true, but why? He did mention that he wished to save civilian lives. But that cannot be all there is to it. He has to be hiding something."

"All the more reason to let him join." Miyu advocated. "What better way to gain his trust, than have him work with us? In time he might even come clean on his own."

With both supporting the idea, Krystal reluctantly caved, her thin black lips pulling into a reluctant grin.

"Alright, if you think this is what we should do, I'll go along with it. But if he tries to kill us all, don't blame me for saying I told you so."

"You won't have to, Falco will beat you to it I'm sure." Miyu chuckled.

"What about me beating her?" The avian demanded, the trio having arrived within his earshot.

"Don't worry about it birdbrain, its nothing." Miyu retorted easily.

"Sure…" Falco grumbled, not trusting the spotted feline's words.

"So, Fox, what'd he say?" Fay wondered, the snowy dog's ears perked curiously.

"Well….he said he would think about it." The orange vulpine slowly replied.

"So…that's a no then." Falco assumed with a shrug. "Ah who cares, I don't know why you are putting so much effort in hiring this guy."

"Are you not even the least bit interested in finding out who he is?" Slippy demanded.

"Nope, not at all." Falco waived off without a hint of concern. "He's probably just some run of the mill merc, probably even stole the gear he has from some research facility. If anything, I say we try to bring him in to Pepper."

"If that's what you want no one's going to stop you. Be my guest." Fox gestured towards the daunting armored form of the stranger.

At that moment, Six pulled an exotic curved blade from the metallic sheath bolted on his right shoulderplate, the weapon at least a foot and half in length, keen and razor-sharp. It promised a swift and painful death to anyone unfortunate enough to be his opponent. The soldier dragged the bladed edge at an angle across his forearm plate, fleeting motes of sparks lighting up his cerulean armor as he honed the deadly weapon using his limb as an improvised whetstone. Surely he didn't use it? Swords had long ago been replaced with the more clean and effective firearm.

Still….

"Nah, I'm good, it was just a suggestion." Falco backed down coolly. But, there was a hint of hesitation in his response.

The team chuckled at his expense.

"All right, but feel free to change your mind at any time. We'd love to see you take him in."

"Can it Miyu." The avian muttered crossly at the giggling feline. He did not find it all that funny."

Yet all that did was deepen their mirth. Falco did not often get trumped, but when he did it was something everyone could get behind.

"Mccloud…"

Like the flick of a switch, their amused chuckles lurched to an abrupt halt.

Standing just behind Fox was Six, the discreet soldier had somehow managed to move behind them without making a sound. How he did so with such bulky armor remained a mystery.

"Oh…uh hey there…Six." Fox greeted the silent warrior uncertainty, unaccustomed to using the soldier's given name.

"I have thought on your…proposal." The man rumbled lowly.

"So, what do you say? You ready to join the best merc team in the Lylat System?" The vulpine grinned up at him expectantly.

"I…accept." He answered grudgingly, after a painful pause.

Fox ignored the lack of enthusiasm in his tone, combating it with a smile.

"Great, I'm glad that you did. I think you'll like it here with us."

Silence greeted him.

Fox coughed loudly. "Right…aaaanyways. Are you ready to go? The Great Fox is close by, just outside the dreadnought. You know what it looks like right?"

"I can recall your ship chasing me down yes." Six affirmed.

"Right…sorry about that." Fox winced. "We were just doing our job."

"Undoubtedly…"

"Ready to move out then?"

"After you….commander." The man did not easily hide his reluctance.

"We don't use ranks here, Fox works just fine."

"As you say, Mccloud."

Fox sighed.

This was going to be a long day.