Chapter One: Deployment

"Got a patrol dead ahead…Two Elites, Four Jackals, Six Grunts, about half a click ahead." Those were the first words out of Black One in almost an hour, and even then his words were just barely a whisper. He moved to the top of yet another sand dune that he had quickly become accustomed too since Black Team's deployment to Planet Reach with the other Spartan's just twelve hours ago. During that time, he and the other three members of his team had assisted in an attempt to push back a Covenant assault on one of the numerous U.N.S.C boot camp's that lay in this mass desert. The attempt had failed, and to the best of Black One's knowledge, they and the few other Spartan's were the lone survivors. The team had then been ordered back into the desert, with the orders of finding a convoy that had been transporting supplies, ammunition, and wounded to the numerous other bases in the area. That was five hours ago.

The Spartan dug the Bipod of his rifle into the sand, and then dug his shoulder into the Butt that he had engraved the letters "NTSJ" into, the first letter of the first name of himself and his teammates. His name was Nathan, Spartan-038, and he was the leader of the most elite team of snipers in the U.N.S.C. He watched as one after the other, three green acknowledgment lights blinked twice, signaling they were all in position. Before he looked down into his scope, he noted the lineup. Black 2, Toby-Spartan-085, had lined up in the open to the right of him, beside a large boulder that cast a shadow over her pitch black MJOLNIR armor. He counted her lucky in this blistering heat, his armor's attempts to perform homeostasis weren't working as efficiently as he had hoped, and sweat beaded down his forehead and dripped from his dark-blonde eyebrows and onto his red cheeks. He closed his eyes, ignored the discomfort and the civilian wish for water and then opened them, deep blue eyes looking to his left where Black 3, Skylar, Spartan-109 had lined up at the very bottom of the large sand dune in Nathan's blind spot, the only way he could that he was there was by the marker in his Heads-up-Display (HUD) that came out of the sand and showed him. Then there was Black 4- Jarrett, Spartan- 010 just a few feet away from him, in the open and putting too much trust in the hope that the Covenant wouldn't turn to face them, as opposed to what they were doing now and walking off into the horizon.
Nathan hated that, yet his trust in Jarrett forced him to put those feelings aside and allowed him to look through his scope and begin the task of prioritizing targets. He switched his COM frequency from TEAM, to single beam, just in case the Covenant could somehow pick it up, and this was more secure, but sacrificed range. Every Spartan in this team was easily capable of making a shot from this distance, so he'd have to line it up for who could get the best shots and prioritize targets. The Elites had to go first, that was a given, the Grunts would quickly go into a panic and break the loose "V" formation they currently held. The two Elites were in the back and two Jackals were crouched in front of them with their shields to the front, plasma pistols drawn and ready to fire. The Grunts were in straight diagonal lines on each side, and two other Jackals were angled up front. The Jackals were the sharp shooters, and with their sharpened senses would be a threat too the team, and thus would have to be taken out rather quickly, even if they lacked the precision weapons they could still alert the Covenant in the area of their presence. That would prove to be disastrous. He made his decisions, and then beamed Toby.

"You got the blue bastard on the right, once those two are done hit the Jackal up front, and the one at the end closer to you, then have a field day with the Grunts. "

The female Spartan flashed her acknowledgment light, and nothing more.

Next, Black One focused his attention on Skylar. He could tell just by his body language that his mind and blood had turned into thick ice, and that he was in the state of mind he had entered to take another life. That was a task every Spartan thought was as natural as breathing itself; it's what they were taught to do at a very young age. They were, after all, warriors. Nathan never really understood why Skylar got the way he did when he was about kill. He was detached from his emotions, quiet, and when he did speak his voice always seemed to hold just a bit of tone of remorse until the deed was done.

"Once I fire, take the Jackal in front, and then the other one at the tip of the side closest to you, Hit whichever grunt." Nathan knew Jarrett wouldn't be happy with just having to kill Grunts; he treated all of this like a competition when they were done. He was after all, the joker of the team until it was time to be serious. He could switch moods so quick he swore the man had split personalities. He shrugged the thought away; he had gotten to take out a Hunter not even a half hour ago so he really had no room to bitch. Not like it would stop him from it anyways.

Skylar flashed his acknowledgment light, and his body tensed. He stressed having a perfect stance with his Sniper shots; it's what Chief Mendez had gotten on him the most about.

Finally, Nathan beamed Jarrett.
"Your on cleanup duty this time, wait till theirs only the little guys left and fire at will."

There was a delay for a few moments and then Jarrett's light reluctantly lit up in Nathan's helmet.

The Spartans knew to wait for his mark, the one factor that never changed was that the leader always got first shot; it had been that way since they were children. He placed the Crosshair onto the back of the red Elite's head, noted the sand blowing to his right and made slight adjustments, so his crosshair was barely on his head, then pulled the trigger.
CRACK
The Rifle pushed into Nathan's shoulder and then scraped back in the sand. The formation froze at the sound, and Nathan swore he could hear a skull crack as he watched the alien fall forward, its purple blood spraying from the wound and being sucked up by the sand that was so desperate for any liquid. Before they could register anything more, another shot went through the air, and the other Elite dropped to its knees, more blood spraying and then collapsed on the ground. Next, Toby and Skylar simultaneously took out the Jackals that had just narrowly avoided being crushed under the weight of their leaders, then the two at the front.

Nathan's theory had proven correct, and the Grunts began to scatters, arms flailing, and screaming for mercy from their killer's. He smiled, he loved being right, and then adjusted to one who was doing nothing but running in a circle. His finger reached for a trigger, but before he squeezed it there was an explosion of fire, that consumed two others. Jarrett had pierced their thick methane tanks, and now seemed more then content to allow the others to finish the job.

"Gotta love ending things with a bang." Jarrett said over the TEAMCOM, chuckling as he did. He was back to his usual, goofy self. Black Four stood, brushed the sand off his rifle and then looked to Skylar as he began to relax, offering his teammate a hand up, which he took as usual.
"Wouldn't you agree Sky?"
Sky let out a chuckle, forcing himself to relax, otherwise he never would.
"I could have done better." He said rather matter-of-factly as he surveyed the desert one more time and began his advance into the slight depression, footsteps sinking into, and quickly being erased by the ever changing sand.

"Covenant patrols are showing up more, theirs no reason for them to be out here unless their guarding something." Nathan said, standing up from the dune then sliding down, rolling to his feet, placing his palm against his chest, the signal for them to fall into position. He looked at Toby, as she stood; she hadn't said a word since they had deployed…it was unusual for her. Yet it wasn't Nathan's job to be a psychiatrist, she was still fulfilling her duty so her silence was not jeopardizing the mission. He took a deep breath, again forcing himself to forget about the heat and flattened his palm, waving them forward twice, the signal for move ahead, and just as soon as they came, they were moving at quick speeds through the deserts of Reach. Yet, as they did, Toby couldn't seem to take her eyes out of the sky, at the bright explosions high above the atmosphere, the occasional slight eclipses as the UNSC ships moved between the planet and the sun in an attempts to win what seemed to be a hopeless battle.

Reach was the closest thing to a home the Spartan's had ever had. It's where their lives were changed forever, from their conscription into the SPARTAN project, to their augmentation and graduation. This place had made them what they were, and now it seemed it was on its last limbs, it made her wonder if they were too…

Jarrett looked at her, noting what she was doing and broke the tight square formation they had to put his hand on her shoulder, nodding at the woman as she turned her head, her faceplate masked any emotion from the eyes of her comrade, and she simply pushed him off as she did every time he touched her, yet this time Jarrett noted that this time it was just a bit lighter then usual, further amplifying worry he couldn't show.