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[img]https://i.postimg.cc/L5r26P82/Star-Fox-Final.png[/img]

[color=5edaf6]Level:[/color] 5 (4 -> 6/50)
[color=5edaf6]Location:[/color] Sandswept Sky - Lakeside
[color=5edaf6]Word Count:[/color] 836 (+2 EXP)
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For a first, their attempt at swaying diplomacy appeared to be going surprisingly smoothly. Where Fox had expected some level of apprehension or resistance to their proposal, they were instead met with a gradually building line-up of eager new recruits, most of which were moved by seamingly little more than the desire and opportunity to make a greater contribution, their motives as of yet unspoken (save for Heavy). Just as a handful of willing crusaders-to-be were stepping forward to answer the call to action, the voice of displeased authority came over the loudspeaker to sour the whole negotiation. Fox’s almost visible satisfaction was quickly replaced with an alert response as his attention shot to the nearest source of the voice barking commands urgently calling for the trio’s termination. He might have guessed that someone was behind the looping turf war between those unwittingly gathered in the conspicuously symmetrical battleground they’d been calling home for an untold time, and silently cursed for being right.

Just like that, hopeful converts backed off against their better interest, motivated backwards by flash-bred skepticism. The Soldier did the honors (unintentionally) bringing to light a programmed facsimile of contrarian rationale; something about a ‘briefcase’ apparently containing sensitive intelligence that the crusader trio obviously knew nothing of, let alone would they care to steal it. Had that been the case, Fox couldn’t imagine why they would need to ‘distract’ or even bother engaging with them at all if they already weren’t paying attention to this thing they suddenly so valued enough to fight over but not enough to keep safely on their person. No, this wasn’t a healthy skepticism at work. This was the talk and action of one reaching for an excuse to repel outside influence in accordance with the brainwashing of their faceless masters; one they knew of, one they had yet to discover.

Yet, in spite of this attempt to engender an irreconcilable divide between all parties present, reasonable doubt and insubordination persisted among a few of the mercenaries. However, all it took was one voice in her favor calling ‘treachery’ to instigate conflict among them. Alas, where her attempts at militant sophistry failed to dissuade her subjects from defecting, she was able to leverage afforded privileges of conditional immortality over them to fan the flames of continued in-fighting, now with a more adversarial touch. The terms were set, the teams assembling, and the countdown initiated.

[color=5edaf6]“Move!”[/color] Fox commanded Poppi and the Queen, as in ‘away’ to find the farthest cover they could reach before the countdown was up. It was clear that reason would serve them no further here, so it was time for them to fall back and improvise. Fox rapidly devised a course of action for the three of them and issued their parts in it as soon as they were out of sight. [color=5edaf6]“Sectonia, alert the others, tell Midna we need cover. Get a sandstorm going. Poppi, find that case--OR her--then me,”[/color] he ordered, referring to the aforementioned briefcase and the Administrator, which they would likely find in the same place. [color=5edaf6]“Wait for our cover to move,”[/color] he further clarified, expecting her to take his meaning through context.

He reasoned internally that Poppi could better move through the battlefield at speed unseen with her comparably lower profile, while Sectonia wouldn’t have to stress the same on a round trip to and from Naboris, and being the more eloquent of the two, she could better relay the call for backup. Furthermore, his sudden interest in the briefcase had more to do with the Administrator herself and her apparent knowledge of Spirits, which by itself made her a considerable enough threat to not want to send Poppi after her alone; just to [i]find[/i] her first. Should she happen to return with a case of precious intel however, there was a chance they might actually be able to learn something useful from it.

As for Fox, he decided that the best and only thing they could do now was play their game, but he had no intention of playing it their, or rather [i]her[/i] way, or by her rules. He would not honor the conventions of a dishonorable engagement. He preferred this time to disrupt the established order of controlled chaos, and she just gave him the perfect excuse to try. His idea was to start with the one player she couldn’t have managed this without, her compulsory lapdog, the Soldier, and go from there.

Fox and his team were neither RED nor BLU; they were [i][b]one[/b][/i]. Though, for the purpose of the scenario at play, they were still Yellow Team and would remain to be. Though outnumbered on both sides, with no respawns, they were short no advantages of their own with every plan to make use of them. Their hard-earned success here would mark YLW’s first victory in the last battle that would be fought on these grounds. Heeding his own directive to Poppi, he would await the obscuration of the battlefield by Midna through Naboris to mobilize.