Six turned to Rennac as he spoke, pulling his hand back and hooking his thumb lazily into his belt, the other arm still holding his helmet. He cracked a small smile, shrugging. "I figured it'd take a bit to prove myself--nobody just gets to do what they want as soon as their on. New people are new for a reason. It's okay, I can wait."

He turned at Jack's whistle, and reached to pull his helmet over his head. It was comfortable enough--he couldn't be sure whether that was by it's own design or just his being used to it, but either way, he had no qualms with wearing it. The vision was just as good as if he wasn't wearing it, after all--his armor and his weapon were all he really needed. Well, that and Hark--honestly, the far more crippling loss, but he'd functioned for ... well, apparently for about twenty four years, but he could only remember two of them, so he'd only count those. He functioned for two years without Hark, he could do it again for a handful of weeks, hard as it would be. Wasn't even just the help in missions--without his partner, it was like a limb lost.

But, he'd suck it up and keep on trucking. Hark would be here soon enough, and things would be a lot easier.