Chapter Text
July 24th 2552
07:28 hours
The sky was bright, the sun splitting the clouds open into an array of reds, yellows, and oranges entangled in a playful dance in the sky. As they progressed, the scene changed into a dark puddle of clouds swimming over a boxy outpost just ahead. The spartan never had a care for such whimsy, never having the time to concern herself much with things that weren't important. Yet, even she understood the sinister undertones of the dark clouds. Perhaps it was the anticipation of the day to come making her nauseous or, something was deeply, truly wrong. Before she knew it, the warthog sputtered and groaned as it reared to a screeching halt. She stepped out onto the mud caked ground, beginning her descent to the building in front of ner. Behind her, the hog’s wheels spun as it was driven off to its next destination. She approached the outpost with an unnaturally smooth gait, as if she hadn’t just been sitting in a hog’ for 3 days. Her hand rested upon the tail of a falcon that just landed on the ground in front of her. On it, noble team's marksman sat, gazing at the yellow clad spartan. Yes. Six chose to cosplay as a lemon because the armory insisted that she wear something other than black. With the unceremoniously bright color it made stealth rather difficult, but she didn’t mind it all that much. Her pathway into the building was obstructed by a shiny gray arm with a screw that rotated in its elbow. Its holder was a woman in aqua blue armor who had a particularly cold gaze.
“Commander,” her Slavic accent was sharp, callous, and six didn’t exactly know how to feel about it.
She supposed that it would be best not to care, because this situation lacked the permanence or importance she needed to ingest that knowledge. She dialed in on this commander, who only looked at her long enough for her to identify his icy blue eyes and cobalt blue armor. Her mind shifted to the giant of a spartan, who stood right beside him. Large scars protruded down the entire length of his face, which would be terrifying if she wasn’t a trained killer. It was all softened by brown eyes, ones that were filled with amused warmth. His eyes were a far cry from the commander’s harsher blue ones.
“So that's our new number six,” the large spartan questioned.
A man in the corner whose visor was adorned with a skull spoke,“Kat, you read her file?”
“Only the parts that weren't covered in black ink,” said the woman from earlier.
The commander resumed his previous conversation with colonel Urban Holland, a man she was vaguely familiar with due to her recruitment onto noble team. Maybe she should’ve paid more attention to the first part of the conversation.
“Anyone claim responsibility, sir?”
“ONI thinks it might be the local insurrectionists. They pulled a similar job on new harmony. That cannot happen here. I want that relay back online, Noble One.”
“Sir, consider it done.”
“See you on the other side, Holland out.”
He turned back around to face her, giving her a better look at his head. He had a couple small scars here and there, nothing too big, just standard combat wounds. Not only that, but he looked a little scruffy around his mouth and up his jaw, even still, he was easy on the eyes. She had a hard time looking into his gaze, though. It burned with a haunting, bright intensity. Like the sun, if it was blue. The command terminus was likely the reason they shone so bright.
“Lieutenant.”
“Commander, sir.”
“I'm carter, noble team's leader, that’s Kat, noble two, Emile, Jorge four and five. You’ll meet jun outside.”
He began moving again, this time sliding his helmet over his head, blocking her visual of his face. His golden visor peered vacantly at her, reflecting her yellow self back in his vision. Once they neared the falcon he spoke:
“Not gonna lie to you, Lieutenant, you’re stepping into shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled. Me? I'm just happy to have noble Backup to full strength,”
These words were laced with a cold undertone, one that let her know he didn't trust her. It wasn't hard to see the way the lieutenant commander shot her a glare, or how terse he was when talking to his new lieutenant. She wasn't Thomas, and never would be.
He continued speaking, “just one thing, I've seen your files, even the parts the ONI sensors didn't want me to. That lone wolf stuff stays behind, clear?”
“yes, sir.”
On the way to the relay outpost, six observed the surrounding Spartans. Carter in particular occasionally looked at her with caution. Not that she blamed the clad in blue spartan. She thought they were an odd bunch, most Spartans didn’t have much of a personality and often prioritized functionality over friendliness. It made her uncomfortable to be in such a situation. Again,to her this didn't matter, Noble wouldn't have her for long. ONI would take her away in a week or so. That's how it always went.
“Commander, we just lost signal with HQ,” Kat warned, tapping away vigorously at a data pad she must’ve housed in her armor.
“Backup channels?”
“Searching…nada. Can't say what's jamming us.”
“You heard her, dead zone confirmed, command will not be keeping us company this trip.”
—
The bird sunk to the land, perching on the highest layer of terrace. Carter was the first to climb out and begin the descent down the bluffs of cabbage. As they neared the bottom, the mud on the ground began taking a darker hue. It was too dark to be clay, but as they met the end, she discovered that the mud wasn't normal mud. It was maroon, the same color of blood. Likewise, it must’ve been recent, the rain hadn't washed it away yet. Further evidence suggested an explosion, or a crash. Likely the crash due to the flaming warthog that looked as if it had been chewed up and spit out.
“Found the beacon,” Emile announced, tossing a red, snail-like beacon to Kat.
“Kat, you make out any ID,” Carter asked.
“Negative, but it's military.”
“So, where are the missing troopers?” Jorge wondered.
“Why are we not seeing explosives residue,” Kat added.
“Noble three, can you confirm any ex’ residue in the area?”
“Negative, boss, thermals clean.”
The burns on the ground didn’t look all that human to six. She only really had experience with the insurrectionists. It had been a while since she faced them but, she suspected, it was-
“Plasma maybe,” Emile spoke, finishing six’s thoughts.
“Can’t be, not on reach,” Jorge cut in.
The lieutenant almost wondered if that was even possible, but deep down she knew the burns on the ground didn’t look like a standard grenade. Or it could be a result of the wreck right next to her. The more thought put into it served to heighten her confusion. She never really had something like this that wasn’t cut and dry. Another part of her body was screaming out that something was incredibly wrong with this scenario, and they weren't supposed to be here.
Jun intercepted, “smoke at the next structure, boss.”
“Circle west and check it out. Noble Team : you have permission to engage, but be careful, we don’t want to telegraph our presence.”
Emile jumped at the chance to move again, it was clear he had felt some sort of apprehension despite his borderline hostile nature. The spartan was the first to meet the stairs, followed by noble six and carter behind him.
“Six, move into the house. Go in quiet, I’m right behind you.”
She moved in, keeping her magnum up and alert as she scanned the house. Emile had already entered; however, she decided to take a more cautious approach. Once her eyes had fully adjusted, it became apparent that whoever was in here tore the place up. There were overturned tables, pots smashed and wires making a loud pop as they sparked. Insurrectionists wouldn’t hurt their own people, would they?
Carter looked over everything after her, ensuring he wasn't about to step foot into an ambush. The last thing he wanted is for his team to get injured. Instead of finding anyone getting ambushed, he was met face to face with Emile violently shoving the barrel of his shotgun in some poor sod's face.
“Move, on your knees, now!”
The man In question getting a face full of gun begged for his life in his native tongue. Jorge was the only one who could translate the farmers thoughts.
“They’re not rebels, they’re farmers, look at them.” Jorge tried appealing to Emile’s twisted logic, but there was barely a method to the other Spartans’ madness.
Carter made the executive decision to stop the pending argument, “Ask them why they're here.”
“Hiding, sir. Something in the fields killed his son.”
“Noble one, I'm getting heat sigs in the structure up ahead!”
“Got that, noble three. Noble team, double time it.”
They sprinted up a concrete bridge, making it to a darkened building. It was much like the other building, only there were two dead marines with hooks protruding from their chests. Blood trickled down the wall behind them, and they were almost a porcelain color from their post-mortem state. On the ground, more maroon puddles formed in the middle of the floor and in the corner. However, in said corner, civilians were stacked on top of each other with mouths that were almost unhinged with how open they were. Their eyes were freakishly wide, filled with intense bouts of fear.
“Damn,” Carter spoke, a small crack in his voice, “it's messy.”
Even if he wanted to speak, the words died in his mouth. It was obvious the soldier felt sympathy for those who had fallen. There was no time to process, and they had to keep moving. Carter lifted his hand and gestured for noble team to move. The group cautiously moved through the dimmed area, into one with an open doorway. A loud, clambering noise came from the roof, showing a hostile on the motion trackers. Six whipped around, dashing out the building at a break-neck pace. Instinctively, she held her gun up to what it was, scanning through the hillside on top of the building and the trees near it. Ultimately, the spartan found the upper area completely barren. Her heart rate elevated slightly.
“Looks like there's nothing here, stand down, six.”
The lieutenant lowered her gun slowly, only then retreating to his side. He glanced back at her as he took point, his feet making sploshing sounds under the heavy rain. Six followed behind, looking through the building they had crossed into. Same as before, but a cage wall was behind a box of ammunition. The nausea she experienced had returned, her heart pounded in her ears as she passed into the next room. She was hoping it to be nothing, but her heart rate accelerated more at what she saw through the window…