Yo, so as you know there was a pole. As of 6/3 it was all tied up. So I texted a friend. We talked and he helped me out. It helped me out a great bit. So here is the beginning of my rewrite.
There was a meeting room. In the center was a large, oval, gray, table. 15 men sitting around in chairs and a Spartan guard at the door, and one guest. The Guest being none other than Master Chief.
The men around the table were all high-ranking men and women within the UNSC, and Doctor Halsey, at the head of the table was Admiral Hood.
"You are all aware of why you have been called here." Admiral hood spoke gravely. His voice while not loud was easily heard within the room. The atmosphere filled with a tense sensation.
"So it's a true." Admiral Radregeze. "There is a rogue Spartan." There was a mutter across the room. A few glancing at Master Chief from where he stood silently with the two Spartans behind him.
"Yes, and it seems on the most part they are playing Guardian Angel." Hood spoke as pressed a button. A video feed popping up before each of the council.
From the live feed was the sound of gun fire and smoke. It was a bloody mess in what could have once been a personal garden. There was smoke filling the air and fire scattered about.
Coming towards the camera, was a Spartan. Wielding a steel sword that was drenched in blood. It dripped down the blade. The person that had the camera was trembling as the Spartan approached.
'Stay back!' The person, now identified as a young male, cried out loudly. Snakingly raising a weapon at the Spartan. The Spartan just simply kept walking forward. Passing them completely. The male collapsed to the ground dropping their weapon. The video feed filtered out.
"The Private was new to the Guard Detail, new to the UNSC all together. He is also the only one to be spared from the Rogue's blade." Admiral Amidala spoke up. Looking over a tablet before her.
"She is not one of my Spartan's." Doctor Halsey spoke from her place at the far side of the table.
"How can you be so sure Doctor?" Captain Moday spoke up rather irritated with her presence.
"For all the assassinations she is linked to. All the damage shown or truly the lack of it. This could very much be the work of a Hyper Lethal. One I had thought had died on Reach." Doctor Halsey spoke taping on her board. On the screens a new projection showed.
On the screen was a Spartan of similar build was moving about with deadly grace, It was from a Spartan helmet cam. The Female Spartan was wielding an Energy Sword and was in the middle of a group of Elites. Killing them with the grace of a professional dancer.
"I was the one to list her MIA." The lowest ranking Captain in the room spoke. The once Colonel, now Lieutenant Holland. "She died on Reach as most of her team did." There was remorse in his tone, grief. "They died buying civilians and military evacuations alike time, and getting that damned AI off world." Sending a glare at Halsey.
"If it wasn't for the AI construct, Cortana, earth and a good chunk of all life in the Galaxy would be gone." Halsey spoke in a matter of fact tone, not bothered at all by the glare. The video dying out.
"Noble Six was loyal." He growled lowly his glare strengthening. "Her armor was found in the glass."
"Correction," She spoke once more. Leveling a look at him. "Her helmet was found in the glass. Her helmet failing moments after she removed it from her head."
"I will not tolerate you bad mouthing a dead team. A good team." Holland stood up.
"Sir," for the first time in the room, Master Chief spoke. The sound of his voice drawing all of their attentions. "Spartans never die." He spoke. It was considered taboo to speak such words before a Spartan. "A body was never found, nor was there any armor given over from the alliance now shared with the Covenant. There is a chance this could be her." Holland sat back down. Master Chief was good at bringing up truth and fact. Facts that could not be argued.
"She was ONI's before she was mine." Referring to her command structure. "You are our hunter; it is ONI who can give you her scent. Chief, I ask you this, if it is her, bring her in alive. She won't come back easy. Not many can recover from watching their entire team die in front of them." Master Chief nodded his head before turning and leaving the room. The metal doors closing behind him.
Jumping to Six's location. She is a mom. Deal with it. Her son is named Sammy aka Sam. She named him after the first Spartan casualty and Jorge's brother. Her son is 8 years old. As Six aka Rona, was raised a soldier she isn't soft with him, but truthful, blunt, and protective. As such Sam is mature for his age. Though childish as a protective counter. He is a Spartan kid, he is stronger than a normal kid. Much stronger. The surgeries altered their genetics. [If this is true in cannon or not, I don't know, but it is here.] Sam also looks like a carbon copy of Jorge. Now on with the story.
Six POV
I was running down the forest paths. Watching the trees as Sammy practiced his free running. He was getting better, and his steps where steadying out. I might have to increase the weights.
'Rona,' Dot spoke into my comm that was clipped into my ear.
"I'm here, Dot." I spoke softly, not wanting to worry Sam.
'I just found a file. They know of you. They have sent a Spartan to bring you in.' Dot informed me evenly.
"I see, and is Sam still a secret?" I questioned as I started to speed up.
'He is.'
"Good, we will leave immediately. Torch the house, prep the Prowler." I ordered as I brought my hands to my face to give the three-tone hoot that Jorge had taught me, that I had in turn taught Sam.
He jumped down, now running next to me. "Mom, what's wrong?" he asked rather concerned.
"I have been discovered. I didn't change my fight style enough." I told him. He was understood what it all meant and kept pace next to me.
"Where will we go?" He asked softly.
"Well, we could go look at those Forerunner structures you have been wanting to see on New Morian." I told him. He smiled widely.
"Let's go then!"
"Ever eager," I chuckled softly. We slowed to a jog as we went back to the campsite. It was simple. An old prowler that had tarps over its wings and the belly used as the bedding area. Back at camp it was easy to pack and move on. Then again, no where was home. Except for a time, Reach might have been.
Well, I am rewriting, once I hit the same amount of words as the First Rogue I will be deleting it.
There wasn't enough action in the first one. Went to one thing to the next. Time to fix that.