Lone Wolf
By Maxxy989
I released a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. The squad had finally moved on and I allowed my active camouflage to shut down, fading me back into existence. If that squad had stayed any longer, my camo battery would have died, and they would have seen me even in the dark of the cave. They would have radioed back to whatever was in command and I would have an entire battalion on top of me in minutes.
Not exactly at the top of my "to do" list.
I decided to sit down and take a quick five minute break from my 200 kilometer run and look over my resources. A Designated Marksman Rifle with one extra clip. A Spartan Laser with exactly one shot left. A stolen plasma grenade, robbed from the Zealot I had killed a little over 9 hours ago. And of course, my ever present, razor sharp, titanium A combat knife. That thing had been my only permenant friend since I turned 10. Not even Noble team counted anymore.
After all my equipment was secured, I ran a diagnostics check on my armor. No damage that would make me any less dangerous.
That done, I opened my transmission folder and read the last message I had recieved, even though I had already read it fifty times.
From: .DOT
/ Attention all Spartans.
/ Reach has fallen.
/ All Spartans are to travel to coordinates 189.97538 by 236.08646, codename: Rally Point Omega.
/ A lightweight cargo frigate outfitted with stealth systems is waiting there.
/ Ship will take off at exactly 1435 hours.
/ Be there. /
I inputted the coordinates into my TACmap. Only 22 kilometers to go. I got up and started sprinting.
»»»»»»
I stepped out from behind the oil tank and got my first good look at rally point Omega. My first feeling was one of suprise. There, loaded up with all sorts of high tech looking upgrades was a frigate, as promised. I confess, I hadn't actually expected a chance at survival. The Pillar of Autumn had seemed like a last chance sort of thing, and I hadn't thought that luck had another for me.
But it was hard to argue with your own eyes.
I started running, pumped full of a renewed sense of purpose. Some of the figures loading supplies turned to look at me. Most of them would have been to caught up in their work to look in my direction. The only way they could have heard me at that distance was if they somehow had super-human hearing. I smiled. Spartans.
I was about a kilometer away when my enhanced eyes began to pick out details in the crowd. One of them waved. Before I could wave back, or even take in the rest of said details, a humming noise filled the air.
I stopped dead. Even inside the atmosphere, the sound was unmistakable.
I turned and ran in the opposite direction. The hum became a scream and was joined by the sound of a frigate lifting off.
"Too late," I muttered grimly.
I didn't dare look back. I just kept running.
A few seconds later, a massive explosion drowned out the screaming and I let myself fall to the ground, covering my head with my hands. About twenty some Seraph bombers flew 20,000 feet over my head. I hoped that they wouldn't see me.
The screaming died back down into a humming and then disappeared altogether. I waited another minute before finally getting back up. Rally point Omega had a few craters, but nothing to serious. The frigate was another story.
It had been blown into three seperate sections, once when the engines exploded, and again when the reactor did. Neither had been audible over the explosions of the plasma bombs.
I figured the frigate had made it 3 kilometers before the bombs had impacted. I also realized that most of the Spartans had made it on board, with their enhanced leg muscled.
Damn.
»»»»»»
Rally point Omega was still in pretty okay shape. It would be a nice place to make a final stand.
The sweeping squads would be here any minute to look for survivors. As I walked toward the center of the outpost, I began to see bodies. Some marines, but mostly
Spartans. Despite myself, I fought back a tear. Never had I thought it possible to kill so many of the greatest soldiers the galaxy had to offer at once. We were the ultimate weapons.
I had not yet met a Spartan who hadn't died in a very glorious way, or had an excuse for not doing so.
Jorge had taken a Covenant super carrier with him. Carter had taken a scarab. Emile had been preoccupied with the mass driver. Kat had been sniped from a ship. Jun had been defending .
Even the Spartans here had been cheated. Airstrikes were just unfair.
As I walked farther in, I heard a moan. There were no words in the moan, only the sound of pain.
A dark red shape crawled a few feet away from me. I recognized the Spartan who had waved at me. His armor was the colour it was not because of the paint, but because of the blood that coated it, most of it not his own. He was missing both his legs and an arm.
I was at his side in an instant. I tore off his helmet and threw it to the side. He looked up at me through hazel eyes and said, "he-" before I flipped him onto his back. The motion nearly made him faint.
I got out my can of biofoam, but before I could start dressing his wounds, his one good hand grabbed the can and he gave a slight shake of his head.
"But-" He cut me off with a finger to my visor and stared at my chest. I followed his gaze to my knife. I knew what he was thinking, and tried to think of another solution, but I couldn't come up with one. I didn't have enough first aid supplies to save him.
So I didn't argue. I drew my knife.
"Leave this life in peace," I told him.
He straightened out his body and closed his eyelids as I drew a line across his throat. The blood stopped coming out after about three seconds.
I got up and carried on.
»»»»»»
I stood in the defense tower looking up at the sky, orange with ash and sun. I thought I caught a glimpse of a Spartan helmet in the clouds. I thought of the Spartan whose life I had ended. I hadn't even known his number, let alone his name. Yet he had trusted me enough to ease his passing. Just goes to show you how much Spartans trust each other.
The first dropship appeared overhead.
I was in the house in a second, hoping that it hadn't seen me. I engaged my camo and poked my head out the door. Several squads of Elites and grunts were headed for my house. It had definitely spotted me.
A few feet away I noticed a blue suit of armor attached to a dead body. It still had its weapons. I was at the body in another second. I had only secured the M6D pistol and was reaching for the assault rifle when I felt an impact on my energy shield.
I turned tale and ran back to the house. I caught a glimpse of a ranger class elite. Those things had thermal vision in there suits. My camo now useless, I disabled it.
A minor grunt met me back in my house. He met his end with a swift kick to the face.
I ran over to a window and killed an Elite Minor with my DMR before I was forced back into cover by plasmafire. I repeated this process with different windows each time, killing two whole squads before my DMR clicked empty. I had already used my spare clip.
An Elite Ultra came in through the front door holding two plasma rifles and firing them at me. I managed to make it out the back door without getting atomized, only to come face to squid-face with another Ultra with a plasma repeater.
They had probably planned it.
We were to close for his weapon to be of any use and I had no time to go for my pistol or knife.
We simultaneously swung our right arms at each other. His shield held, but mine failed and fist contacted with the left side of my helmet, cracking my visor. Pain flared up in my head, but I ignored it. I ducked his next punch, finally giving me enough time to draw my knife. After that he was dead in a few seconds.
As I pulled my knife from the now dead Elites throat, I heard a sound behind me. I whirled to see the Ultra with the plasma rifles and the ranger that had spotted me coming out the door. In one deft movement I sprang forward and stabbed the Ranger through the visor.
The Ultra lifted his left foot as if to kick me, but at the last second jumped up into the air. The surprise lasted only a second and I was just fast enough to bring up my knife. His right foot landed on my stomach, taking my shield back down and probably snapping half a dozen ribs.
The pain flared up again, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming.
His left foot landed on my knife. He was not quite as reserved as I was and screamed his lungs (or whatever) out until a shot from my pistol to his face shut him up.
I was just finishing removing my latest kill from on top of me when another Ultra appeared from around the side of the building carrying an energy sword. It moved faster than any living things has ever moved before. The sword was through my stomach immediately.
All I can say is: do not get stabbed by one of those things for as long as you live.
The pain was excruciating. It felt like my internal organs were being liquefied.
The world began to darken even after the Ultra pulled his sword out of me.
I was dying. I could feel it, my heart slowing, slowing, slowing, stopping.
I continued fading. It was, peaceful.
No.
Not yet. Almost, But not yet. My heart pumped once, then twice, then three times. Faster and faster and faster. My eyes opened. There was so much Adrenaline in my system that I didn't even feel pain.
I tore off my helmet and looked around frantically. My eyes fixed on the assault rifle I had failed to retrieve a while ago. I lunged for it. The Ultra was a few feet away by now, but as I stood he turned.
There were many things in his eyes as I gunned him down. Surprise, anger, but above all, respect. That gave me a nice sense of satisfaction. I had the respect of my foes.
I nailed the Officer Elite trying to sneak up on me with a backhand, draining his shield and knocking him down. I killed him with a quick shot to the head. Plasma began raining down on me from two different directions. A ranger and an Ultra, both with repeaters.
I aimed the pistol at the ranger and the assault rifle at the ultra, gunning down them both. At this point I was about to be swarmed.
An Ultra with a sword ran up and tried to stab me, but, after discarding my guns, I drew my knife and stabbed his sword arm. He still managed to knock me down before pulling back, taking my knife with him.
Goodbye, old friend, I thought toward it.
A zealot drew closer, holding another sword which I managed to kick out of his hand. He stumbled, and the Ultra I stabbed comes back and, before I can do anything, stabs me in the arm. Yet through all this I retain my sense of satisfaction.
Despite my team being dead, despite Reach having fallen, despite having an angry zealot coming at me with a wrist blade, I'm satisfied.