Chapter 10: Corruption

Noble 6 opened his eyes and found himself greeted by a vast, never-ending desert. A desert? Glassed planets weren't deserts…where was he? What happened to Reach? Why hadn't the Sith and the Elites killed him? Noble 6 surveyed the area. Just dunes and an ocean of sand as far as the eye could see. The sky was clear blue, not a cloud to be seen. And yet strangely, it wasn't very hot, just warm. A nice, pleasant kind of warm…was he in Heaven? He never thought heaven would be a desert…

"Hey there Six." A familiar-sounding voice said. Noble 6 turned around. He couldn't believe his eyes and ears. Emile; his late teammate, was standing right in front of him. Perhaps he was in Heaven after all…or Hell.

"I take it you showed those Covvie bastards what for huh?" Emile asked in a rather cheerful tone that seemed uncharacteristic of him.

Noble 6 rubbed his eyes and then opened them again. He wasn't seeing things. Emile was still standing there, right in front of him. As it was, Emile didn't seem terribly surprised to see him without his helmet on, even though the only two members of the team Six had ever let see his face where Kat and Jun.

"Emile? I thought…Jun said you'd been killed…"

"Hey don't you know? SPARTANS never die Six! We're just missing in action! And now we're missing in action!"

Emile sounded overly cheerful, which, especially since it was Emile, was not a good sign. Despite that, Six decided that it may be best to play along for now and hope for the best. If he and Emile where "alive" he wanted to know if the other members of Noble Team where to.

"So…does that mean…Jorge is alive too?"

Emile shrugged. "Don't know." Emile chuckled to himself a bit. "Big man always was sentimental…."

"Uh…OK, well you're here, so where is Carter?"

"He's DEAD!" Emile exclaimed in a disturbingly loud and almost light-hearted fashion that was completely inappropriate for the statement.

"But didn't you just tell me SPARTANS never di—"

"He's Dead" Emile repeated flatly. Noble 6 was beginning to feel a little uneasy. Emile had never exactly been a nice guy, but his attitude here seemed rather demented, even by his standards. Noble 6 decided to just drop it. He noticed that the sky had started to darken rapidly, the clear blue now an overcast gray. Still, he asked Emile about the next Noble Team member…

"Uh…Jun is still alive right?"

Emile nodded. "Yep. He survived. Proved that it pays to fight from a distance!"

Now Noble 6 was feeling a little less uneasy, but the sky was getting darker still. And there was one last member of the team unaccounted for. And she meant the most to him.

"And Kat?"

Emile looked directly at him. Even though his skull-faced helmet completely obscured his face, Noble 6 could almost tell that Emile was smiling underneath. Finally he said: "Oh, she's fine Six. You don't have to worry about her…" his tone sounded almost sinister. "…you never did really"

"Excuse me?"

Suddenly, Emile changed his tone drastically, becoming much more hostile:

"I mean what is it with you? Don't you know SPARTANS aren't supposed to fall in love! G-d! You make want to puke!"

"Emile, what the hell—"

Lightning flashed. The sky was now pitch dark, as if the sun had been swallowed whole by the storm clouds. Emile drew his kukri dagger from his shoulder sheath. He moved towards Noble 6.

"Trust me: payback's a bitch."

And within mere seconds, Emile was on top of Noble 6, stabbing him repeatedly with his dagger, which went through his red armor with illogical ease. Noble 6 had no weapon to defend himself, not one. Even his own knives where missing, and so Emile continued to stab him but Six didn't die. Finally, he grabbed Emile's hand as he was about to make another stab and started punching him as hard and fast as he could with his other hand, eventually making a crack in Emile's helmet before grabbing it and pulling it off. But when he did…Noble 6 was horrified by what he saw: Emile's face underneath his helmet was a real, true skull.

Lightning flashed again. Emile laughed. Noble 6 punched him hard in the face, dislocating his jaw. Emile merely fixed it back in place

"Happy frickin Halloween Six!" Emile shouted before jamming his kukri into Noble 6's heart…

Noble 6 woke up in a cold sweat and began panting non-stop. So he was alive after all. He looked at the room he was in and saw his reflection. For a moment, he thought, he could of sworn his eyes where yellow, but once he blinked and looked again, they where their usual gray…

Noble 6 surveyed the room he was in. It was a drab, gray cell that was dimly lit, and attached to the wall was a slab that was apparently for sleeping on. Six had been on the floor when he'd woken up, implying they hadn't even bothered to put him on the slab when they threw him in here. He looked down. His armor was off, now replaced with black robes, gloves, boots, and a tunic. The hand that had been cut off by the Sith on Reach had been replaced…with another hand. It did not look robotic, like Kat's arm, but looked exactly like a normal hand. But it felt robotic…

The door opened, getting Noble 6's attention. It was a man in black robes with a hooded cape and a bronze mask and breastplate.

"Who are you?"

"You will call me Lord Revan. I understand that forces under my command chose to spare you…mercy is not a trait of the Sith, so I assume Drakot had his reasons…what where they I wonder?" There was a moment of silence. "Ah, yes….yes that's it…"

Revan smiled underneath his mask. Noble 6 continued to be confused as to what was going on. Finally, Revan spoke up again, authority ever-present in his voice, despite the fact that Six guessed that he couldn't be much older than him from the small amount of youth that was still in his voice…

"You will be trained. Do not ask questions, or you'll find yourself regretting it. I will return tomorrow and you will see what I have in store for you…"

And with that, Revan left without another word, closing the door behind him, leaving Noble 6 alone again, wondering what exactly had just happened. The next day, Revan returned as promised, and beckoned Noble 6 to follow him. Though it was against his better judgment, Six found himself obeying without question…The two walked to a spacious room with stone walls and ceiling, and in the center there was a large mat laid out. On the mat were several rocks of various shapes and sizes. Revan turned to face Noble Six.

"I am going to be blunt with you "SPARTAN": you are force-sensitive. Though you do not know it, the Force touches you in a way it does not touch your friends. Due to being isolated from anyone else who possesses this sensitivity, you could never tap into your full power, your full potential…until now. Drakot sensed that spark of the force within you, which is why he chose to let you live. Under my guidance, you will turn that spark into a raging inferno that will help incinerate the Jedi Order…but, one must learn to walk before they learn to run. So I will be training you."

Noble Six didn't say a word. He was having a hard time taking all of this in. He was force-sensitive? Like the Jedi Daemon? Like the Sith on Reach? Well, that would explain some things…his natural talent for survival, the way he fought, like no other SPARTAN-III who ever lived…but was it really because of the Force? Six had always chalked it up to fate and dumb luck, and also possibly divine intervention. But maybe that was the Force…

"Now" Revan said, continuing "To use the force, you must first reach out, calm your mind, clear your thoughts, and focus only on the Force itself as you attempt to use it."

Noble Six didn't do anything. He was still trying to grasp all of this insanity. And if he was force-sensitive, there was no way he would work for the Sith. Revan, as if he could sense what Noble Six was thinking, outstretched a hand, his voice growing extremely venomous.

"Do as I say…or you will suffer…."

Noble Six found his will and energy being drained from him. He fell to his knees and began panting heavily.

"Now do as I told you and concentrate!"

Noble Six attempted to empty his mind, and listen for the Force, though he wasn't entirely sure how he would do that. But then, as his mind finally quieted down (it took him a little while, as he wasn't used to calming his mind so) he heard it. He actually heard it. Speaking to him, in two different voices. Both of the voices where calm sounding, serene and graceful. But one whispered promises. Promises of power, promises of anything and everything he could possibly desire, all with very little effort on his part. Then he heard Revan's voice in his head:

Good. You are already learning, it seems. The voice that makes promises is the voice of the Dark Side. I can assure you that it makes good on those promises, but only if you have the strength to take what you deserve, and know how to harness the Dark Side and use it as a weapon. Now, with your mind emptied and calm, focus on the rocks, and try to levitate one.

Noble 6, attempting to keep his mind as clear as possible, outstretched a hand, and concentrated on the rock. Nothing happened. Noble Six tried again, this time attempting to feel the rock, even though he couldn't touch it. Feel it's cold, hard, surface. And then, amazingly, the rock began to move. Unfortunately, just as it was beginning to levitate, Noble Six lost control and it fell down again. Revan merely stood and watched.

"Again" he said nonchalantly

Noble Six tried again. The rock fell again. He already knew what Revan would say, so he tried again. Finally, the rock levitated more before falling again.

"Good." Revan said plainly. "You're progressing already."

But as things continued over the next few days, Noble 6's progress deteriorated considerably. He was having difficulty strengthening his connection to the Force, and Revan was anything but a gentle teacher. As the days turned into agonizing weeks, Noble 6 was put through more and more harsh training to hone his connection to the force. Such "training" often consisted of doing battle against vicious creatures such as Tukata and Nexu; running through brutal obstacle courses, and enduring other brutality that made even what he was forced to endure in the SPARTAN-Training program pale in comparison. All the while, Darth Revan stood over him, instructing him, berating him, and, occasionally, torturing him, all in the hopes of getting him to fully embrace the power of the Dark Side. Noble 6 tried again and again to use the force to levitate objects and push them, to pull things towards him, to wield the lightsaber he was given with some measure of competence, but it was just no use. He was sloppy and pathetic, and he knew it. Revan did too, his bronze mask frequently hiding looks of disgust.

"You have no technique. You are sloppy, uncoordinated. You telegraph your blows light-years ahead of executing them..."

Noble 6 eventually lost patience with being lectured, berated, and abused and one day lashed out violently with his lightsaber. Darth Revan saw it coming and sliced Noble 6's lightsaber in two…and took his hand off as well. Noble 6 had now lost that hand eight times. Whenever he greatly displeased Darth Revan, the Sith Master would take off the prosthetic hand that replaced the one Noble 6 had lost on Reach. And so he had to constantly get a new one attached. It was a truly torturous experience, but Revan did not care. As far as he was concerned, until his apprentice learned how to be a true Sith adept, he did not deserve his hand. Revan stood over Noble 6.

"Strengthen your connection to the force" Revan commanded with great irritation in his voice "Feel the power of the Dark Side as it courses through you. Remember your anger. Your anger at the countless atrocities the Covenant have inflicted against your people. Remember what they did to your fellow SPARTANS..."

Noble 6 struggled with these words and the innate Dark Side power bubbling up inside of him as Revan continued. "Remember their names…Samuel."

Samuel…The first SPARTAN who took down a whole Covenant capital ship by boarding it, and he did it almost single-handedly. He had made the ultimate sacrifice…according to Jorge, the other SPARTAN-IIs considered him a martyr afterwards…

"The SPARTANS on Pegasi…"

Pegasi Delta. A true hell-hole if there ever was one. ONI estimated the death toll was around 297 of the 300 that were sent, with Noble 6 as one of the only three SPARTANS who had survived that nightmarish siege…

"Your squad that you lost…Frank, Sheila, Felix…"

How the hell did he know all their names?

"Jorge…."

Jorge….Noble 6 wondered what happened to him after he detonated that slipspace bomb. Was he really dead? Or was he still out there somewhere? He didn't know. And he wasn't sure he cared anymore…

"Carter and Emile…"

Noble 6 remembered hearing that his friends in Noble Team had died from Jun. He still didn't know exactly how they had been killed…

"Kat"

Kat…No, Noble 6 thought. She'd gotten out with Jun, he was sure of it. He saw it. He knew she was still alive…he was sure…then he saw her…her body, on the floor, lying in a pool of blood at Revan's feet. But that couldn't be…

"No…"

Noble 6 screamed in agony

"NOOOOO!"

As Noble 6 vented his fury and denial, the whole room, it seemed, began to fall apart. Objects where shattered, nearby droids smashed to pieces, a great powerful gale swept through the entire room. Darth Revan smiled underneath his grim, faceless mask. Finally, progress was being made. He walked over. Noble 6 looked up at him, his once gray eyes now transitioning to a yellowish color. This pleased Revan even more.

"Excellent work. In time you may actually make a fine Sith Apprentice. Now, build yourself a new lightsaber. You do that, and then, you get a new prosthetic. Until then, you remain without a hand. You will be confined to your room with the necessary materials until you are done."

"Yes…master"