Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 16: Catalyst, Part 2

Fox meditatively gazed out the bridge's viewport, contemplating the unlikely series of events that had come to pass.

Things had not gone to plan, (something he was starting to get used to). With Six in intensive care onboard The Great Fox and an attack by a mysterious creature, Fox was beginning to wonder what else could go wrong. Apparently, the spartan had thought it a good idea to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a venomian behemoth heavy tank. It was not enough that he had made everyone think he was dead once, now he seemed to be doing his best to make it a reality.

The vulpine vowed to soon speak with the spartan on his reckless self-endangerment once he had recovered.

At least it appeared his armor saved him from the worst of it, though from MAD's diagnosis it was a miracle the human was still breathing at all. Six had made it back onto the ship before he lost consciousness and Fox could only imagine how high his tolerance for pain was. His armor had still been blistering hot when they found him, somehow seeming to have absorbed most of what should have been a lethal attack from the tank's dual energy cannons. Fox was awed that his armor could survive and displace the immense energy from a direct hit by a double barreled heavy laser cannon. The materials that must have been used in its forging were definitely lightyears beyond lylatian military engineering.

Once recovered and with his assistance, they were able to get him out of his armor, moments before he collapsed. With Falco's help he was able to get the human warrior on a cot. Even unarmored the spartan was still remarkably heavy. From that point it was up to Mad to oversee his health, the medical droid doing all it could to keep his vitals stabilized. Since then a full twenty-four hours had passed with no change in his condition.

However this was not the only problem they faced. They had encountered a strange giant bug-like creature in the skies above Fortuna in their pursuit of Oikonny. Fox had first thought it was another one of Andross' bioweapons utilized by his nephew, but it did not look like anything that ape had created before and it had no problem attacking the pretentious simian without any prompt.

The thing had been tougher then it looked, proving ominously difficult to take down. He, Falco, and Slippy had barely been able to defeat it, using their combined efforts to blast the creature's wings off and send it crashing to the ground.

The strangest thing of it all had been Peppy's reaction to its appearance. The hare had ordered them to head back to the ship immediately, which was odd in itself since he had never pulled them from a mission before. And that only boded ill as the moment they all returned; Peppy had initiated the warp drive and set course back for Corneria. And he had done all of this without explaining his reasons behind his actions, promising Fox that he would do so later.

It was quite obvious that Peppy's irrationality was connected to the strange oversized insect they had battled.

'And this little thing has something to do with all of it.' Fox held up the small cube shaped device Peppy had asked him to retrieve from the fallen creature. Another clue that the wizened old hare knew more to what was going on than Fox did. Despite its appearance, it had been more machine then bug, a revolting combination of cybernetics and chitin that only further sought to intensify his curiosity on what exactly was happening and his concern for what this all entailed.

Fox's muzzle curled into a frown as the vulpine determinedly rose up from his chair. Right now he would get his answers from Peppy. He wouldn't wait around anymore. The answers were not going to seek him out on their own. He needed to know what was going on, why the hare had reacted the way he did. And the only way to figure out the reason behind it was to speak with Peppy.

Leaving the bridge, Fox traveled through the ship, down towards the hare's room. Once he arrived, he gathered his resolve and firmly knocked on the door.

*****

Krystal was not sure what emotion she was supposed to be feeling as she gazed down at Six, misery or relief? The spartan was lying unconscious in a hospital bed stricken with severe injuries. When she had found him he she had thought he was dead upon first glance, blood leaking from a hole in his armor and his arms blackened by fire as he slouched against a concrete barrier. Admittedly, she had gone a little ballistic at the sight of him, with good reason. And she had only calmed down once he started speaking.

With her help and that of the women he had saved from the venomians, they had been able to get him into the shuttle, a task that was difficult even with his support. He had not been lying about his weight, all their combined efforts had barely been sufficient enough to get him inside. Since CDF forces would take some time to get to the field and secure it, she had decided to take the other women to the ship with her. Even worried and preoccupied as she was, she could not think to leave them alone after what they had been through. As if Venom was not despicable enough, after she had heard their stories her detestation of them had been only inflamed.

Back on the ship, the spartan traded paws, Falco and Fox taking Six to the infirmary while she and Miyu saw to the lodging of the returned POWs. The Great Fox had plenty of room to house them until their situation could be figured out and they could be transferred to a CDF cruiser.

Once they were done, the two had rushed to the infirmary where Slippy and Fay had been in the process of helping him remove his armor, which could only mean he was really hurt. The spartan would have never accepted their assistance unless he had no choice otherwise. And the fact he could not take his suit off unaided meant it was indeed serious.

The task had been gruesome, and by the end both Slippy and Fay had been covered in Six's blood, the spartan bleeding profusely from the ragged hole in his side. As much as the girls had wanted to stay by his side and help, Fox ordered them to leave so they could take off his suit and get him into a medical gown.  Both had not been allowed back in until he was transferred to a cot and by then he had fallen unconscious. From the moment he stepped onto the ship to the moment he went comatose he had not spoken a word, something that had worried her tremendously.

With the robot taking over his care, Slippy moved Six's armor down to engineering with the intent to wash the blood away. Fox left for the bridge to check the ship's course and Falco went with him. Fay had stayed long enough to see that he was fine before heading off to help Slippy, leaving Krystal and Miyu to watch over him.

Krystal had asked MAD, the ship's Medical Assistance Droid, to list off the injuries he suffered and it was difficult for her not to lose hope as she listened to the grim prognosis. Radiation burns branded across his torso and arms. Torn muscles, a cracked rib, punctured kidney, substantial blood loss, heavy internal bleeding, all with countless bruises and minor lacerations wracking his body.

Any normal doctor would have prescribed an ugly diagnosis, yet it seemed that the spartan was tenaciously clinging to life and on the mend, slowly. MAD had suggested a blood transfusion to help speed things along, but since there was no telling if their blood types were compatible or what risk it might be for him considering their difference in species. It was better that he heal on his own. MAD had already dosed him with a healthy amount of antibiotics and painkillers, prearranged a treatment for his burns, ensured his rib would heal properly, and removed shrapnel from the entry wound in his side before sealing it up. Of all the wounds, the radiation burns had been the easiest to fix.

With MAD's instructions, Krystal had slathered a medicinal cream on his arms and torso, a process that was not without a few blushes and awkward feelings. She would only ever admit to herself that she might have taken longer than necessary to apply the ointment. The vixen had been transfixed by his rock-hard muscles and masculine contours. He was as male as a man could hope to be and she was curious. Krystal had never touched a male in that way before, and she found it was not at all unpleasant. In fact she had rather liked the feeling of his bare skin on her pads and could only imagine his response if he had awoken to find her rubbing her paws all over his chest.

With the cream applied, his burns would fade away within the week as if they had never existed. In her innocent exploration, she had discovered similar burns on his back that looked to be relatively recent, and thought to apply the cream there was well, hoping it would help.

Finished, she had wrapped him in gauze and helped position him as comfortably on the bed as she could with Miyu's assistance. The feline had been silent since she saw him. Six had approached the feline in a haggard limp and handed a blaster to her before Fox and Falco carted him away. Since that moment she had yet to say a word, doing everything in silence. Krystal knew not the significance of his action but recognized that it had been important to her.

Since his wounds had been tended, Krystal and Miyu had drawn chairs up to the side of his bed and sat in wait for the moment he awakened, the feline absorbed with the blaster in her paws.

They knew not how long it would be before he did awake, but they prayed it was soon.

*****

“So that's what we're dealing with these… aparoids."

Fox had spent the last hour interrogating Peppy to learn what exactly that creature was and why it held such significance. And from what the hare was telling him, this situation was far direr than he had previously led himself to believe.

“Yes, aparoids," Peppy nodded grimly, his muzzle devoid of its usual good humor. “I have long hoped they would never reappear, but it would seem my hopes have been for naught."

“And you're saying that a single one of these… things destroyed an entire CNDF Task Group?" Fox could hardly believe the story. Yes, it had been difficult taking down the one he and the others fought, but they had prevailed, in arwings no less. So how could a fleet not do the same?

Hearing Fox's skepticism, Peppy was quick to offer a rejoinder that brought the vulpine little satisfaction. “The creature you encountered over Fortuna was not the same as the one the fleet encountered all those years ago. It was much… smaller."

Fox felt the blood drain from his muzzle.

Smaller? That thing had been massive! It had easily dwarfed their Arwings, a full quarter the mass of The Great Fox.

To think that it was of a lesser size… 

“How do you know all of this?" Fox asked his mentor, disbelief evident in his astonished tone.

“I know this because I was there when we initiated first contact…. as was your father." Peppy dropped another mindboggling bombshell on the young vulpine.

“Dad?" Fox reeled his muzzle back in shock. It seemed as if all the secrets Peppy carried were coming out all at once.

“Indeed, James was there as well as I." The hare's gaze softened as he recalled the events of the past. “It was one of the first missions we went on together. And we were the only ones to make it out alive from that massacre. There was no reasoning with it, no empathy within that soulless creature, nothing but a mindless machine with a single purpose and a message it delivered just before it attacked and decimated the fleet. We are legion… we are coming." The hare paused, running a paw across his wizened muzzle, his expression draped in a haggardness Fox had never seen on him before and the vulpine's blood chilled at the portentous simplicity of those words.

“These monsters… these aparoids, they are the biggest threat to face the Lylat System. They make the Andross conflict and Oikonny's rebellion, appear juvenile in comparison. If they are truly coming, and this signifies the advent of a war. I fear it may be one we are not properly equipped to fight… or win." 

Fox could not decide which was worse, the despair in Peppy's voice, or the possibility he was right, that there might be no victory against the aparoids. It was a lot of information to have to digest. At that moment, the vulpine desperately wished that Six was conscious so he might have been able to speak with the spartan. He could have used some of the veteran warrior's advice about now. If anything it might have brought him some measure of comfort.

“So… what do we do?"

“I'm afraid there is nothing else to do but wait. There is no means of finding out if this was just another random attack or the dawn of something far more serious. Once we return to Corneria I have to speak with General Pepper and determine what exactly it is we can do to prepare, however little it might be. The only saving grace is the presumable death of Andrew Oikonny. We can most likely expect a full withdrawal of his forces and it may just be the time to settle with a truce. If the aparoids do come, Venom will hardly be the main issue we must face."

Peppy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Once we return, I think it might be best to send the team on leave for a while. Give them time to resolve any personnel matters they might have. If the aparoids attack, I imagine there would be little time for that and they may never get the chance."

“Will it be that bad?" The young vulpine asked quietly. The picture Peppy was painting for him was unquestionably grim. He made it sound like it was the going to be the end of everything and Fox could feel the ever-present weight on his shoulders increase by several magnitudes, almost enough to crush him.

“It just might be, Fox… it just might be." The hare's tone was unmistakably somber.

“What do I tell them?" He asked, looking up to the one that had been his father figure for most of his life, needing his guidance now more than ever.

“Nothing… tell them nothing. As it stands now that thing was one of Andross' old bioweapons. That will be the story for the news and what you'll say if they ask. The only one that can know is Six. I imagine there will be a great demand for his services in the coming months." Peppy felt pity for the spartan. The quiet life that could have been his was once more rendered unattainable by fate. He just might be the only person in the system to give them an edge over the aparoids.

As such his life has just grown that more hazardous.

The spartan was in for a rude awakening.

*****

Six did not dream, not very often anyways. Nor would he go so far as to call them dreams, more like memories, recollections of old battles fought, of times in his career where he thought he had finally reached his end. These memories did not come to him often, perhaps once in a blue moon. Recently however, his slumber has been plagued with these remembrances, but not the ones of old.

These memories were recent, events of his life from the past few months. And they were not necessarily of or about himself, but of the people he had come to know through circumstances mired in skepticism and disbelief. He found himself reliving the moment he joined Starfox, all the unusual experiences and the many odd conversations with its members he had endured since. And of these fresh recollections, most were centered on one figure, a person he come to hold in some level of unexplainable esteem.

Krystal

That cerulean vixen was the single most incomprehensible conundrum he had ever come to face in the entirety of a life ravaged by war. This inconceivable attachment he felt for her, something no one being had ever been able to produce in him before. He did not understand these feelings that had developed inside him, why he had grown this uncharacteristic fondness for her.  Of all the members of the team, her presence is the one he preferred most and she somehow managed to easily twist his previously conceived loyalties. If it came down to a decision he did not know who it would be he vowed his allegiance, her or Fox. The one who legitimately held command over him or the woman that seemingly managed to have usurped that power.

What once brought him comfort and reprieve from the grueling, virtually hopeless austerity of his existence -maintaining and loading firearms, maintenance on his MJOLNIR, devising battle strategies- no longer brought that sense of ease. Now his solace derived itself exclusively from his memories of her, the melodious harmony of the vixen's laugh, the youthful purity in her bright emerald eyes… the way she smiled at him, accepting of who and all that he was. Just the thought of her calmed the innumerable inner demons that had haunted him all his life.

He could still feel the enthralling suppleness of her fur, so unlike the rigidity of the world he knew to exist. Six had not thought anything in existence could be so soft.

The spartan had never come into contact with someone like her. She was unique to this land and its ideals, innocent and kind. Completely different from the hardened men and women he dealt with in his own time and place. That vixen was the one and only person that made him think there was a faint possibility that something was out there for him. That he did not need to surrender to his grim lot in life. She gave him the strength to consider it a possibility that fate could be bested. That he could overcome his inabilities and societal incapacities.

Krystal made him believe.

The vixen gave him hope where he once had none.

These abnormal thoughts mystified Six to no end and the spartan knew then that he had changed from the bitter cynic he used to be, whether that was for the better remained uncertain. This place… these aliens… they had altered his perceptions, his very way of thought. These changes in philosophies would have never come to pass if he had not come here. Granted he would in all probability be dead if he hadn't.

He wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore. A once simple, command driven existence had been mired by these puzzling sentiments, the spartan more conflicted then he had ever been before. No mission, not even Reach, had affected him in a comparable way. Never before had he encountered a situation that would force him to weigh what it was that mattered most to him… duty or desire.

And he could not even understand what it was he desired. All he could discern was that it involved Krystal in some way. She had undisputedly become a person of pronounced importance to him. It was almost laughable in a way. He had once held zero reservations at ending her life if necessary. Now he knew he would never be able to pull the trigger, rather he would place the gun to his own head first.

Six had never put any real value into his life other than as something he would inevitably sacrifice for humanity when the right moment came, just as his fellow spartans had done before him. Now, it was something he would freely yield if it ensured she would remain alive. The vixen's continued survival was imperative to him, and he would do all in his power to protect her.

And this confounded him beyond all belief and reason, that he would place her welfare on the same standing as that of the entirety of the human race, such was her worth to him. If asked, he doubted he would be able to put these feelings into words. They more closely coinciding with instinct, an inexplicable impulse to ensure her protection and wellbeing that far surpassed any martial command or authoritative directive.

He could not even explain what it exactly was he saw in her that earned such devotion. She was neither his superior nor a valued personage of rank or command. The vixen was not a leader of men like Fox. She was just a mercenary, her only distinguishing aspect being her otherworldly telepathic talent.

Perhaps this is what it felt like to have affection, for a person to have worth to you and you alone even if you cannot see the reason why. Six found that he… liked her. It was something about Krystal's enduring positive view on life, her unshakable faith and devotion to the team, which earned her a degree of respect, and perhaps even admiration. She was in many aspects, better than him.

Six may be one of the best soldiers to have ever been created, but he lacked a significant element that all true soldiers possessed.

Conviction, the total and complete belief in the cause they fight for. Six's devotion was entirely manufactured by the UNSC, his loyalty heavily conditioned into him since childhood. He had no real allegiance to humanity or the military for which he had been trained to thoughtlessly obey. What had they done for him besides steal his childhood and turn him into a machine of war? They denied him even the most basic of human rights, the freedom to make one's own choices.

Those who had deserved his genuine fidelity had all died back on Reach. That was at least, until he met Fox.

Like Carter, Fox had won his complete confidence through mutual respect and appreciation. The vulpine was a trustworthy captain and one he would have no qualms in laying down his life for. The spartan no longer fought on the behest of a nation, but an individual. He fought because he had sworn himself into Fox's service. So until such a time came as the vulpine released him from his oath, or he met his end in battle, Six would follow him. Fox had earned that much.

The spartan supposed that in such a regard, he really was a mercenary now.

Six knew not what the future held for him, only that that it lay with Krystal and the Starfox team. The time had finally come that he fully commit to his decision, to cut ties with the UNSC forever.

He only hoped his future would be brighter than his past.

*****

Krystal was daydreaming, she could tell that much. Her abilities allowed her to acquire a firm grasp between reality and fantasy, even while she slept. And what she was visualizing at that moment was without a doubt far in the realm of fantasy.

Sauria, the world that had been the beginning of her adventures, the place where she met Fox and joined his team. She was there in her mind, as was Six. There was no war, no Starfox, not even her friends. Just her, Six, and a little wooden house by a lake. The spartan has shed his armor, exchanging the bulky reinforced plates for a collared shirt and a pair of tacky cargo shorts, his weapons tossed out to be replaced by books and a fishing rod.

When the sun set they would sit at a campfire along the lakeside and spend their night nestled together watching the stars, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company… and maybe exploring some other pleasures underneath the gentle starlight.

Six was the only male she ever wanted to give herself to, in both body and soul. And it was her greatest hope that he felt the same way. Though if he did there was little chance she would ever know. The spartan was an individual who did not often if ever leave his shell, she having only seen it in a few exceptionally rare instances.

Krystal realized this and had to satisfy herself with her dreams, the vixen's thoughts dwelling on what his hands might feel like as they ran down her body, his fingers threading through the cream colored fur on her chest. His lips roughly pressed against her in a passionate kiss as his large hands caressed her with a gentleness that belied the enormous strength that lay secreted inside them. She would drape her paws over his shoulders, kneading his powerful muscles in her padded grip as she finally discovered the herculean body she had craved to explore for so long.

Her nose picked up the heady masculine scent clinging to him that all but screamed alpha male. The vixen wanted him to claim her as his, to know she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. 

So lost she was in her heated fantasy, she barely noticed as something latched onto her arm and gently shook the vixen out of her lust driven reverie.

Suddenly shocked out of her lurid reflections, the vixen bolted up right in the chair she had been dozing in and wobbled her muzzle in a confusion of muddled thoughts, a deep blush flushed across her cheeks as she realized what she had been envisioning in her daydream.

Rubbing her bleary eyes, she slowly remembered where she was. Krystal immediately tore her gaze over to the bed Six slept in and grew increasingly concerned upon noticing that the spartan was not there. But her worries were laid to rest after a brief examination of the infirmary. The vixen was once more caught by surprise, finding the spartan standing to her left. His hospital gown had been discarded and left on the cot, the human once more dressed back into his close-fitting ebony undersuit, the sight momentarily reminding her of her embarrassing thoughts and brought a more profound redness to her muzzle.

“Six?" She mumbled softly, her voice flecked with the remains of exhaustion as she gazed up into his crimson irises, the spartan looking down at her in silence. Despite his legendary resilience, she could easily see the haggardness in his expression, the slightly sunken bags under his dark red eyes as he stooped over her. “You shouldn't be out of bed yet, you need your rest."

He gave no verbal acknowledgment to her suggestion, merely nodding mutely and motioning for her to get up with a tilt of his head.

The spartan was acting even more strangely then he usually did, but the confused vixen did as he wordlessly commanded, craning out of the chair to stand at his side.

This seemed to satisfy him as Six nodded once more and turned to leave, his stride hardly affected by the grievous wounds that still aggrieved him, manifesting in a slight almost unnoticeable limp. Once more awed by his impressive resilience, Krystal followed after him, only sparing a quick glance back to Miyu, the feline still slumbering in her chair besides the now empty bed. She wanted to wake the cat up but judging by the spartan's current mysteriousness, she assumed he wanted whatever was coming next to be between the two of them.

Feeling a slight sense of unease, the vixen left the infirmary and tramped after Six as he marched through the halls of the ship. While he led her to wherever it was he was taking her, Krystal tried to speculate what this was about. She still thought he should be back in the bed to recover from his injuries. He had been so close to death that she barely dreaded to think on it. How was it that he was up and walking after only twenty-four hours? With the amount and type of wounds he had received, she expected him to be bedridden for at least a week if not longer. Those just weren't the kind of hurts one simply shrugged off. Or maybe they were for the kind of guy Six was.

Despite herself, Krystal could not shake off the ridiculous notion that she was in trouble. She felt just the same sense of foreboding that had consumed her countless times when her father had taken her down the palace's halls back to their room to scold the young vixen in private. And she hoped this would not end the same way.

She wracked her brain, trying to recall any moment that she might have upset him. By rights, she should be the one who was angry. She did not approve of this recklessness he flaunted about in his views of the worth of his own life. Did he not see how much he meant to her? His rashness would one day get him killed as it almost had on Fortuna. And if he did die, she didn't know what she would do with herself.

Krystal looked up to the spartan's back, watching him as they stopped at the lift, shortly stepping inside. Such close proximity in an enclosed place made her a little uncomfortable, the vixen once more bringing to mind the desirous thoughts that had run rampant through her not so long ago. She could not help but wonder once more if he felt anything like that towards her, the vixen desperately hoping he did.

The lift slowed to a stop and the silent human walked out, she once more ambling behind him as he led the way down a familiar corridor.

Why had he taken them to the crew quarters?

Her question was answered moments later when he stopped outside a door, the vixen recognizing it as his own. The sight of it instantly reminded her on what they had talked about moments before he departed on his mission and she felt her gut plummet in anxiety fueled trepidation. She was afraid of what might be said once they crossed into his domain. Krystal didn't know why he had wanted to speak with her in private, only that it connected to his actions back on Corneria after she had shown him her private sanctuary.

The spartan ran a hand over the scanner and the door cycled open with a near silent whisper of displaced air. Not looking back, he entered his room and the vixen, with no other choice, walked in after him.

*****

Darkness filled her vision for only a few seconds before the lights in the ceiling flickered on, the spartan having activated them. He stood in the center of his room and as his eyes once more found hers, he gestured for the vixen to sit on his bed.

Nodding uncertainly, she moved past him and carefully set herself down on the tightly folded sheets, crossing her slender legs and resting her tail in her lap, stroking the bushy appendage soothingly as her vision returned to the human.

Six sat at his desk and laced his fingers together, using them to hold his chin up as he stared back at her mutely, his crimson eyes giving nothing away. He remained motionless, his eyes being the only part of him that moved as they roamed up and down her body. Though unnerving, she was not opposed to his wandering eyes, only that they were devoid of emotion. It was obvious to her that he was deep in contemplation. And that he must indeed be serious about whatever this was to not have spoken a word yet.

Deciding to wait for him to speak, she contented herself with giving him a soft welcoming smile, hoping to show the damaged warrior that she was fine with him no matter his quirks.

After a short silence, he at last spoke.

“You wished to talk with me?" He inquired, the roughness to his voice more prominent than normal, either due to his recent wounds or lack of speech.

Tentative of what direction this might take, she simply nodded in reply.

“What did you want to talk about?"

Realizing this was her chance to tell him what she had previously worried she might never get to, Krystal wanted to explain herself. But the vixen found her lips could not form what her mind wished to express. And she struggled to try and put her feelings into words, unsure of how to make him understand what it was she felt towards him.

She cherished his company, that sense of safety and security it gave her. He was the only one who could ever comprehend the pain of losing a family and the very world you had once called home. The spartan understood her loss and it had been his advice above any others that helped her cope. His uncompromising and unshakable soul had become her rock in the rapids of a volatile existence. No matter what it might be they faced, he would always remain the stable and unyielding man she had known him to be since the moment she laid eyes on him.

Krystal regarded him as her protector, a ferocious guardian clad in cerulean plates, like the ancient Cerinian knights of old. With him she felt as if nothing in the universe could harm her. He gave her the confidence she had once thought to be lost many years ago. And for all of these wonderful reasons, she adored him.

That was what she wanted to tell him. But the vixen couldn't find the resolve from within herself to open her heart so completely. In the end, Krystal decided to use the fewest most powerful words someone could ever use to express her point. What would be in the end, the best way to deliver all of these heartfelt thoughts.

“I… I love you Six."

She declared in a quiet choked whisper, the words barely audible in the deathly silence of the room as they clung to her abruptly arid throat. The vixen turned her muzzle away from his gaze and placed hers firmly on the floor, unable to meet his bright crimson eyes for fear of what she might see in them. Her heart fluttered wildly in her breast as it beat a staccato rhythm of anxiety and apprehension as she brooded on what his response might be.

Six stared at the vixen, his body as still as stone as he contemplated her earnestly pronounced words, unable to understand what she meant.

Love: An intense feeing of deep affection.

He knew the plain and disassociated dictionary connotation of the word, but not of its real life significance. What did she mean by it? That she loved him. No one in his memory had ever told him this and he did not know what the proper response or procedure was. He knew she held some regard for him, but he had not expected it to be this profound. Honestly the spartan was not sure what he had been trying to accomplish with this dialogue, only that he wanted to ease whatever infractions against her he may have caused.  

He was at a complete loss as to what to say. He had spent the entire trip up to his room making preparation for this conversation only to his best laid plans tossed out by a handful of words. He was surprised to feel his heart thumping in his chest, his breathing having hiked up a nearly undetectable notch. The spartan's hands trembled slightly and his closely guarded emotions were plagued with doubt. He had never been equipped to handle a situation like this. He had no contingence on which to fall back or rely upon. Love was something he had never thought would be applied to him.

His thoughts traveled back to that moment in Fox's room where he had contemplated the possibility of living a normal life. If she did love him did that mean she wanted to share those things with him? If so, he didn't think he would be able to give that to her. He could never be that kind of man. Not even as changed as he was. Yet to tell her that would result in a scenario several magnitudes worse than the one that had started all of this. And he could never hurt her like that again. However, at the same time he could not deny the miniscule fragment of him that wanted to try to be what she desired. If there was anyone in this place he would ever consider making an effort to change for, it was her. And perhaps that was love, or at least his version of it. He doubted their feelings on the matter were the same, but they were similar enough to where it had a slim chance to succeed.

Six studied Krystal as she glared at the floor intently. The vixen's shoulders shaking as she tightly clutched her tail in paws that trembled as uncertainly as his hands. He found some small amount of comfort in the knowledge that she was just as apprehensive as he was. The sight of her was what helped him come to a decision he could have never made alone.

“Krystal…" He growled softly, the vixen hesitantly meeting his ruby red irises with her own emerald gaze. He could not help but temporarily lose himself in their viridescent reflection. Those were the eyes that saw in him something no one had ever seen before. They belonged to a woman that had looked past all his flaws to see the damaged man inside, and rather than turn away, she had instead embraced his imperfections. She was the one that had caused this metamorphose in him.

“You are not alone." While cryptic, it was the closest he could come to admitting his feelings.

The vixen's expression froze in confusion, she not understanding what he had said. But slowly she was able to decipher their intent. Instantly, the subdued glint in her viridian eye exploded into life and her black lips wearily pulled into a subdued smile that threatened to heat the room with its unfiltered warmth.

Krystal jumped from his bed and tackled him head on as he stood up, the spartan easily absorbing the inertia of her leap as he felt her arms wrap tightly around him. The vixen burrowed her muzzle underneath his chin and nuzzled his throat, her soft purr the only sound in his quarters other then the quiet swishing of her fluffy tail. He could feel her dark blue hair as it tickled his neck, the vibrations of her mellow crooning echoing in his chest. Six lowered his head, resting his chin in a field of cobalt and inhaling the female fox's pleasant scent, a distinct combination of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. 

It took all of Six's effort to accept her embrace as he allowed himself to place his arms around her shoulders, pulling Krystal tighter to him. Running his hands over her clothes, he could feel the satiny fur underneath. It was a feeling he never wanted to forget. As he stood there with the vixen in his arms, any reservations about his decision were swept away by the sense of peace and warmth holding her gave him. Just having Krystal in his arms was enough to crack a small smile across his worn visage. A true grin he had not used in many, many years as he immersed himself in contentment he had never know before this day.

And at that moment, he knew he had made the right choice.