|If There are Wolves Among the Stars
Author: skywalker05 PM
AU. The starship Long Night of Solace has been cast adrift, partially intact, in slipspace, and the one Spartan and one Sangheili aboard both have reasons to get back to Reach. Jorge/Six.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Romance - Jorge-052/Noble Five & SPARTAN-B312/Noble Six - Chapters: 35 - Words: 111,678 - Reviews: 188 - Favs: 112 - Follows: 113 - Updated: 11-05-12 - Published: 11-18-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6487713
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: I now have 117 followers for this story, which is pretty cool, especially considering that the epilogue coming on the night of Red vs Blue's finale and the eve of Halo 4 is entirely unintentional.
The Spartan-Fours were wrestling.
Six watched as two men in square-nosed helmets punched and tried to push one another to the ground, primary-color blue and red armor looking almost festive compared to the bright silver walls and floor of the training room. Upside Down floated along in the distance on the opposite side of the massive room, in a small flock, or herd, or pod of his fellow Engineers.
Six thought the Fours were doing well, for volunteers. She had not quite known how to act around them at first: for Spartan trainees as she knew them, they were far too old.
Admiral Paragonsky had asked Six, Jorge, and Relk to join her in the Infinity project almost half a year ago.
Six and Jorge turned away from the balcony as heavy footsteps approached. Relk was dressed in specially made armor, with the blunt lines of UNSC equipment but the dark blue shine of Sangheili lacquer. He had taken Paragonsky's offer of informing the humans about Elite culture and language. She had been too smart to ask him directly about the morality of helping the war effort, although Relk would talk to Jorge and Six about it many times later. Paragonsky had foreseen many things, although the Arbiter's betrayal of the Covenant had not been one of them. Relk had gone to speak with 'Vadamee, as the only other Elite ever known to work with a Spartan. Six had imagined they had a lot to discuss, but she had never been able to sit down with John.
"How's it going, ambassador?" Six asked, using Relk's unofficial title.
"I have not been busy lately," he said, glancing down at the groups of Spartan-Fours below. "There is talk that the war will soon be over. I am...not sure what we need these troops for."
"Just in case," Jorge said. "The Spartan-Twos were made to fight Insurrectionists. The Threes fought the Covenant." He glanced down at Six, who looked up at him, noting the gray speckles starting to show in his hair. "The Fours...we don't yet know."
Relk sighed, a complicated action when four jaws were involved.
"Or the admiral isn't telling us," Six offered, a likely event. Even on her pet project, the massive flagship Infinity, people muttered about Paragonsky.
Relk folded his arms, a gesture that would have seemed bizarrely human if he didn't still have the hunchbacked profile of a muscled Elite. Advances in human-alien relations meant, on the most basic level, that they could now feed him. He had provided a lot of minor information to the UNSC, and just when guilt was overshadowing his desire to be useful, the Arbiter had began the rift in the Covenant which had led the war, within a year, to a fast, bumpy stop.
He had had his religious crises quietly, but Six had thought based on what Jorge told her that Relk had never quite believed in the Forerunners the same ever since he had been mistaken for someone touched by them, but also that he had a faith in the importance of faith that could not be shaken by finding out something as minor as your gods being mortal. Relk would always believe in something. He just didn't always know what it was.
A buzzer sounded from somewhere on the high ceiling, and Six looked back at where the Spartan-IVs were setting up again, paired up with their opponents.
"Give me a second," she said to Jorge and Relk, and turned back to the rail. She wrapped her hands around it as the countdown buzzer started. People down there would be taking breaths, blinking sweat out of their eyes, calling across personal channels to rib their friends.
Minus three seconds.
"Ready!" Six shouted, and tens of people below her lowered their heads and faced down their enemies.
"Mark!" She shouted, and the last buzzer sounded, and the Spartans leapt for each other.