Escape From Reach
Alone.
A word that he knew all to well.
Standing atop a hill, Noble 6 watched as a few Banshees flew overhead. The only survivors left on Reach were those damned Covenant and himself. They took his only true teammates, his friends…
Jorge, who sacrificed himself to take out that Covenant Supercarrier. Kat, who forgot to turn her shields back on and paid the price. Carter, who rammed his doomed Pelican into the hull of a Scarab to allow Emile and Six passage towards the Pillar of Autumn. Emile, who got stabbed in the back and returned the favor. And Jun, with Halsey, went to God knows where.
Hopefully off this planet.
Six slapped in a fresh clip for his Magnum, doing the same for his DMR.
He wasn't going out that easily.
He put his Magnum on his hip, holding his DMR, looking through the scope to look for Covenant transport. He spotted one, lazily coming towards his location. Six ducked, hoping it didn't spot him. Luckily, it didn't, but it did send troops to scout the area, too close for comfort.
Six took out Jorge's dog tags as he heard the chatter of Elites and Grunts getting close. "This one's for you, Jorge…" Six muttered.
He pulled out his last Frag Grenade, pulled out the pin, laced Jorge's dog tags on the top, and threw it over the low wall he was hiding behind. A few shrieks from Grunts, a yell from an Elite, then a muffled blast. Six cautiously looked over the wall. Most of the forces were obliterated from the blast. A few Grunts and an Elite were still sruggling to get to their feet. The Elite's shields had failed, a perfect target.
Six hurled himself over the low wall, firing controlled shots at the Elite's head. Half a second later, the Elite was laying in its own blue blood. He quickly dispatched the Grunts, practically toying with them.
His motion tracker showed a red blip directly behind him. Six whirled around to find…nothing. Remembering his earlier fights with Covenant forces, he scanned the area for any distortions in his field of sight. Sure enough, a small patch of dead grass seemed odd to him, as if looking through a lens.
He pointed his DMR straight at it. Just before he could get a shot off, the Elite disabled its active camo and lunged at Six. Six anticipated such a thing and sidestepped to the right, pulling out his combat knife. The Elite turned to face him and activated its plasma dagger, dropping its Concussion Rifle. Six dropped his DMR too, obviously wanting to save his bullets and to live the moment.
The Elite slashed with his plasma dagger, missing by only an inch. Six counterattacked with a swipe with his own knife, slashing a part of the Elite's mandible off. The Elite roared in anger, and it gave Six just enough time to plunge his knife into the Elite's neck. The Elite gurgled out a few inaudible words before falling to the ground.
Six pulled out his bloody knife and sheathed it. "That was for Emile."
For a few more minutes, it went on like this. A Phantom would drop off a new horde of Covenant forces, and Six would mow them down. His Magnum was depleted of ammo, so he swapped it out for a Plasma Pistol, pulled off the body of a Grunt.
As Six killed the last Elite from the newest addition of infantry, something… unexpected happened. A large blue glob of Plasma arched toward his position. Six searched for cover, spotted a broken building, and dived in. Just in time. The Wraith Mortar shook the foundation of the building, nipping at Six's shields.
The building couldn't take any more damage, or it would fall. Six spotted an RPG launcher leaned over the charred body of a Marine. Six switched his DMR for it, since it was almost out of ammo anyway.
Six looked towards the Wraith, calculating the distance. It wasn't too far. Six had a trick up his sleeve…
He sprinted out of cover, overcharging his Plasma Pistol. The Wraith hadn't spotted it yet. 'Good' Six thought. He shot the Plasma straight at the Wraith, and just as it hit, he switched to his Rockets. The Wraith's power was temporarily terminated, and it gave Six just enough time to fire off two rounds into its hull.
Direct hit.
The Wraith exploded, muffling the screeches of the roasting Elite inside. "That was for Carter."
Apparently, a Banshee saw the explosion and decided to check out what happened. A voice rang in Six's mind. "Maybe we can jack a Banshee and take the fight to them…" Jun always knew what was called for in times like this.
Six discarded the spent Rocket Launcher, pulled out his Plasma Pistol, and fired wildly to attract the pilot's attention. It worked, and the Brute flew closer to Six, its Plasma barrels blazing. Six took a few shots, overcharged his Pistol, and fired at the unaware banshee. Direct hit, yet again. The engine stalled, making the Banshee crunch to a halt, clipping its left wing.
Six sprinted towards the Banshee and jumped, landing on the hull just as it was taking off. Six waited for a few seconds, then opened up the hull like a tin can. The confused Brute looked at Six, then Six kicked it out, sending it plummeting to its death. "That was for Kat."
He knew the controls like the back of his hand, and as he flew out of atmosphere, he had only one thing in mind: This fight was far from over.