The Flame of Nobility

by Monarch Actual

Morgan-B312 has survived in a story where her part to play should have finished long ago. Now, with a heart torn between the desire to survive the war, and the calling of the Ghosts of Noble, will Morgan live up to the destiny that has been set up for her, or will her flame be snuffed out amongst the arms of The Ark? Sequel to A Noble Cause, a changed novelization of Halo 3.

2. Chapter 2: Flight of The Crow

"This is Kilo Zero-Two-Three, inbound. Sierra Three One Two onboard, requesting priority clearance, over."

Hocus' voice filtered smoothly over the radio, Noble Six standing in the door between the cockpit and the bay, watching as the jungles passed beneath the Pelican. A clearing, something barely noticeable from the air, opened up and gave way to Human steel and concrete, a base hidden within the green.

"Roger Kilo Zero-Two-Three. Deck's all yours, come on down. Sorry for the tight squeeze, VIP space is a little limited at the moment. Crow's Nest, out."

The Pelican lowered smoothly to the deck, and the pilots began shutdown procedures, one of them sliding their helmet off while the other kept it on. A woman sat in the seat just behind the cockpit glass, and she let her helmet fall to the side between her seat and the cockpit wall. Golden brown hair was held up in a tight bun, ever the professional, and it was let down as Six watched with a little bit of envy at how easily the hair framed the pilot's tanned skin.

Hocus looked over at the Spartan, giving her a grin as the deep southern drawl sounded, covering Six's ears in a voice that was sweet enough to be infectious. "It's good to have you back, ma'am. Damned glad to still have Spartans in the fight. I think we'll need every one of you we can get." The pilot sat back against the seat, taking a moment to relax. She had been run ragged ever since Truth's fleet had appeared, only a day after Six had left on her wild goose chase.

"Mm, it's nice to have my boots back on the ground, Lieutenant. Thanks for the save," Six replied, the golden visor not revealing anything on Six's face.

Hocus shrugged. "All part of the job. Maybe later, you can buy me a drink and show me what's under that helmet and we can call it even, hm?"

Six felt some of the weariness drain out of her as the pilot's good natured attitude rubbed off on her. "We'll see about that, Hocus." Backing out of the cockpit, Six rapped on the bulkhead as she turned around, and another knock sounded while the Spartan began to exit the bay, a hint of a smile on her face fighting against the weariness she wanted to wear. She decided she liked Hocus.

Johnson had already been helped out of the Pelican by a medic, who was bandaging the wound that had opened on his temple. He let them finish the bandage before waving them off and turning to Six. Reynolds, also being checked out, had been cleared with a minor pain killer after the fall he had taken and the Pelican's crash. Marines scattered around the landing pad, in various states of injury, all had eyes on the recovered Spartan, who stood tall in her dull blue armor, golden visor showing defiance even while the Covenant burned away parts of Humanity's homeworld.

Johnson looked up at her. "Don't flirt too much with Hocus, now. She's a bad influence on you."

Six tilted her head a little bit, confused, before glancing back at the pilot in the cockpit. She seemed to have heard what the Sergeant Major had said, and upon meeting Six's visor with her chocolate brown eyes, winked at Six.

This only added to Six's confusion, and Johnson chuckled but didn't explain further. Footsteps rang off of a metal stairway off to Six's left, and she turned to see who it was.

Lieutenant Commander Miranda Keyes had made her way there personally to meet the retrieved super soldier. She looked at Six and gave a brief smile, before turning to Johnson. "Where'd you find her?"

Johnson didn't miss a beat. "Nappin', out back."

A bigger smile came over Keyes' face, and it reached her eyes as she nodded. "I'll bet." She held her hand out to Six, who took it and shook. "It's good to see you again, Lieutenant."

Six nodded, her hand coming back. "Likewise, ma'am."

Turning away, Keyes gestured for them to follow her. "Come on, let's get you up to speed."

The group, consisting of Johnson, Keyes, Six, and the Arbiter, went back up the stairs that Keyes had taken to get to them. Reynolds, saluting Six and thanking her for her help in the jungle, split off to attend to other duties.

The halls of Crows Nest were filled with wounded or dying Marines. Those that had been made deaf or blind, those who had lost limbs, or taken grievous injuries in the line of duty, lay slumped against walls or in makeshift hospital beds with bags of fluids and IV drips. Groans of pain were heard nearly constantly as the base's medics scurried to make sure they saved whoever they could. It was a losing battle, and it hurt Six to see.

Johnson went to a knee, saying hushed words to a Marine that had been bloodied and battered, gauze covering eyes that had lost their sight. Six frowned, and Keyes couldn't help but unknowingly follow the Spartan's lead. "Truth's fleet broke through the lunar perimeter with ease, smashed what was left of the Home Fleet. As you can see, terrestrial casualties from the orbital bombardment were..."

Six cut her off, the golden visor revealing no emotions from the woman within the heavy armor. "Extreme?"

Keyes, taken aback, nodded. "Covenant deployments have been noted all over the planet. The old United States territory in North America, the Europa Sector, even deep in Old Russia. It seems like they've concentrated most of their forces here, however. Single cruisers were sent out to hotspots around the globe, but a full battlegroup's strength has been concentrated here, in East Africa. Then they started digging."

"Digging, ma'am?"

"We don't know yet, Lieutenant. Judging from what we learned on Halo, he's looking for something called The Ark. It'll allow him to fire every ring at once, and then-"

"The rings will kill us all," Six finished, her tone laced with finality.

Keyes locked her eyes onto the visor, and her lips pursed into a thin line as she nodded again. They had stepped into a command center, one filled with Marines working at consoles and wires draped everywhere. Exposed piping dripped every so often, one of the water droplets landing on the Arbiter's head. His mandibles spread, but he said nothing, merely following behind the Humans.

An ops tech spoke up, one with a bald head and a scruffy graying goatee. "Ma'am, I have Admiral Hood on the line for you."

"Put him on the main screen." The group had gathered in front of it, looking up at the screen filled with data from the base's sensors, and then the weathered face of Lord Hood showed on it, the last few weeks of heavy combat on his homeworld taking a toll on him.

"Do you have any good news for me, Commander Keyes?" He asked, crossing his arms. Hood's eyes darted over, seeing the Spartan standing tall amongst the command center of Crow's Nest.

"As good as it gets, sir."

"So I see. What's your status, Six?"

Six felt herself stand a little straighter, despite the protest in her muscles. "Mean and Green, Admiral."

A hint of a smile showed at the corner of Hood's mouth. It seemed like he, too, was relieved that they still had Spartans in the fight. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, the Commander has come up with a plan, but it's dangerous. Until I knew we had you back, I wasn't sure we could pull it off."

Keyes, off to the side, stepped forward slightly, getting Six's attention. "Truth's ships are clustered above the evacuation site, but ground forces have deployed anti-aircraft batteries all around the perimeter. If we can neutralize just one of those batteries, we can deploy a strike force and punch right through his defenses."

Hood's smile disappeared as he listened to it one more time. "I'll initiate a low level strike, three frigate task force, and hit 'em where it hurts most. I only have a handful of ships, Lieutenant, and it's a big risk. There aren't many people I trust to spearhead this, but I'm confident-"

Hood's voice was cut off by the sound of power buzzing as it was killed at the source, dim red emergency lighting taking the place of the bright whites.

"Aw, hell- We've lost power again! Emergency power is on, but the shielding failed. Main generators are down and charging, ma'am," one of the techs called out, the one that had greeted the Commander when she had come in.

"Good, we'll make due with what we have. As soon as we have power restored, re-establish contact with Lord Hood. Tell him-"

The buzzing flared and the screens ahead returned, all of them covering the face and chest of a Covenant Hierarch, the one that they called the Prophet of Truth, and he wasted no time in berating his enemy.

"You are, all of you, vermin. Cowering in the dirt, thinking what, I wonder? That you might escape the coming fire? No. Your world will burn until its surface is but glass! Not even your demon will live to creep, blackened from its hole to mar the reflection of our passage… the culmination of our Journey. Your destruction is the will of the gods, and I am their instrument!"

The power flickered again, before the main generators came back to life, multiple systems beeping and whining as they came back online. The sound of a deep exhale came from Six's right, and she saw Johnson once again puffing on the Sweet Williams Cigar he always had stowed away somewhere.

"Cocky bastard, he just loves to run his mouth," he muttered, and saw Six was looking at him.

"Does he usually mention me?" She asked, half serious about it.

Keyes was already moving, pointing to the tech that seemed to be in charge. "Give the order, we're closing up shop."

"Ma'am?"

"We're about to get hit, hard. Get all medical teams moving, have Marine forces initiate defense code Alpha-One. Start moving the wounded now, they'll be on the first birds out. Anybody who can walk and carry a gun can get armored up and in defense positions."

The Marine was already on it, and after a few moments of furious typing, he called out to her again. "Ma'am, squad leaders are requesting a rally point. Where should they go?"

Keyes, already racking the slide on her pistol and chambering the round, turned back and looked over Six, the Marine, and the rest of those in the command center. "Contingency point Bravo, update all tracker codes and broadcast cache locations, I have a feeling we won't be making it out of this one without another broken nose."

Keyes pointed to Noble Six, her pistol snugly in her thigh holster. "Lieutenant, you're our fast reaction force. First objective is to get to Hangar 03, defend it. That's our primary launch point for the medical wing, and if it falls, all of the wounded will be slaughtered."

"Yes ma'am," Six replied, looking to Johnson in something that felt familiar in more ways than one. "I need a weapon."

Despite the bruising, Johnson let a grin take over his face, the cigar in his teeth secured and snuffed out once more. "Right this way."

Six followed the Marine SNCO to the stair ways leading below the command center, seeing racks of weapons ready to go, and boxes of ammo left open with magazines filled with rounds inside. Six moved quickly, grabbing a battle rifle from the racks and checking it to make sure it was ready, and two SMGs were stuck to her hips with multiple magazines for quick reloads.

As Six grabbed enough ammo to last her for a while, Johnson grabbed a battle rifle as well, loading it. "The Arbiter and I will guard the ops center and the commander. We'll lock it down nice and tight, but those Marines downstairs could definitely use your help holding the line."

"I'll hold their hand if they need it," Six replied, slapping the bolt for the battle rifle and chambering a round.

The Sergeant Major nodded. "Good luck out there, Morgan. It'll be getting real hot, real soon."

"Same to you. I don't need to come back and see you napping on the job." The black man laughed, before cradling the bruising on his temple.

"Good, now get out of here, you're making my face hurt."

Six didn't say anything more, moving down another flight of stairs and through a door that opened into a large cave system. A voice shouted out to Marines deploying turrets and static defenses, sounding familiar to the blue Spartan.

Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Stacker, no longer clad in the black fatigues and armor of an ODST, stood bellowing orders to the marines. An incoming Spartan was hard to miss if they weren't trying to hide, and his eyes locked onto her with a grin of relief. "Glad to see you're back to work, Lieutenant. Johnson give you the shit details for sleeping on the job?"

Six, never slowing her jog, gave him a light bump with her elbow as she passed, and even then he was pushed a bit, miming a sound of pain. "He gave me the best detail, Gunny. I get to go all over the base saving Marines and showing off and you're stuck here in the dark."

Stacker smirked, wanting to say more, but knew they both had a job to do. Going back to ordering his Marines, his voice broadcasted on the channel that she had keyed into, and she heard him keep going. "Alright, Marines, get those turrets up and watch your fields of fire! We're gonna have the biggest damned killzone on the base bar none! Take the time you have to enjoy this calm before the shit storm, because the Corps did not see fit to issue us with rain coats!"

Six smiled softly as she came to another door, glad that yet another person she was able to trust somewhat was still alive.

The cave shuddered under a sudden impact. Something had exploded, something big, and Six had no doubt in her mind what it was. Johnson came on the line. "Stacker, get me a point of entry. Best assessment?"

Stacker's drawl replied without any hesitation. "Hangar bay 03, Sergeant Major. I felt that one in my bones. It's almost like these bastards knew where to hit!"

"Solid copy. Noble Six? Get there, see those first birds off. You'll get your next orders after that."

The line cut with a click, and Six was isolated in her helmet once more. The door in front of her opened into a sealed hallway, another locked door sitting ready as the first closed behind her. Another detonation, and the sound of an M41 LAAG opening up sounded on the other side of the door, sliding open slowly as the heavy securing bolts retracted.

A Warthog sat with a duo of Marines inside, one ready to drive and the other on the gun. A plasma grenade flew through the air and landed on the 'Hog's windshield, and the Marines tried desperately to escape, but it was already too late.

The vehicle went up in flames, the Marines with it, and Six cursed as she went around the corner. Her battle rifle was already up, firing in quick bursts and taking out Covenant infantry with every pull of the trigger. Jackals and Grunts fell quickly under the withering storm of fire that came about when a Spartan took to the field. Brutes, despite their power armor, were little match for the heavy rounds either, the battle rifle's rhythmic report echoing off of the halls of Crow's Nest.

Burned out or damaged trucks, trailers, and forklifts filled the hall, and as Six passed by the smoldering Warthog, she reloaded and ducked back into cover, waiting for a lull in the heavy fire that had started coming her way. Marines already in the field of fire saw her advancing, and one called out to her.

"Ma'am! We'll open up a hole for you if you can break it wide open!" One of them tore a frag grenade from his belt, ripping the pin out and sidearming it. A second one followed close behind, and Six saw her opening. She stormed out of cover, rifle at the ready as the Marines followed close behind, and she put her rifle to good use in executing the survivors the frags hadn't finished off.

The two Marines moved to take up positions by the next door, gesturing her over. "We'll hold the hall, but the hangar bay is short handed and the bird's can't launch with Phantoms in the way. Good luck, ma'am!"

Six nodded, reloading her half empty mag with a fresh one as she went down the next hall. Commander Keyes' voice came on over the radio. "Lieutenant? Good, this line is secure. My fireteams are spread too thin across the base. We won't be able to hold out for long. I need that hangar bay cleared ASAP. The others are being vacated as we speak, and several of the motor pools are loading up that way. This will be the last major evac point before we start retreating by ground."

"Yes ma'am. I'll get it done," Six replied, scooping up a grouping of frag grenades on the side of the hall, strapping them to her armor. The hallway continued on, taking several turns, before the walls shook again. She kept running, despite the base being hit as hard as it was. If she didn't make it, then this would be a tomb for more Marines than she liked to think about.

A final door opened, and she came out in Hangar 03. Bay doors leading to the housings had been shut to keep the Phantoms from destroying what Pelicans were left, and Covenant were crawling all over the place. What few Marines were still standing were trying to hold them off the best they could. In the distance, through the open main hangar door, Six could see a Covenant cruiser hanging in the air, swarmed by Banshees and Hornet VTOL attack craft fighting for air superiority.

Six wasted no time in joining the fight, her rifle up against her shoulder and barking loudly as she laid the enemy Grunts down. Brute commanders were already pointing at the Spartan, demanding that fire be focused on her, and she ducked into cover as the heavy plasma barrage came in. Steel beams were partly melted, and empty crates caught fire, but Six's shields glistened as glancing hits chipped away at her shield.

She began to displace, moving quickly to better cover, and started blasting more and more infantry as she moved. Jackals were killed off and Brutes retreated as their armor came off around them. Another Phantom began to move in through the bay, ready to deploy more troops, when explosions began to go up all over its left side.

A closed off bay set in the top of one of the walls had opened, and trails of smoke spewed from it with the bright orange flares of Anvil missiles being launched into the Phantom's exposed flank. One of them finally hit hard enough that the Phantom wailed loudly, losing power and falling to the deck. Brutes were crushed by the falling debris, and whatever was inside had likely been killed or crippled by the Pelican's barrage.

Six, peeking around cover, saw the Pelican hover out of its hiding spot, missile launch tubes smoking as they closed back up. It turned as it was dropped from its overhead clamps, the monstrous engines keeping it in the air whining loudly before the pilot brought it down and opened the rear bay. Inside, Marines on stretchers accompanied by a pair of medics could be seen. The three that had survived the assault on the hangar already had orders to board the Pelican, and they entered without looking back. Two more Pelicans left the same way, with Six's watchful eye making sure they made it out entirely.

With the final Pelican floating out of the bay and then disappearing off to the side, she felt her guard drop just a little. She had been waiting for one to turn into a fireball on its way out, and with none of them having done that, things were just a little better.

Her moment was over, however, as Johnson sounded in her ear, his tone urgent. "Ops Center, Six. Need you back here on the double."

"Already moving," she responded, the channel cut and her body in motion once again. There was no rest for the wicked, and it seemed like life was intent on getting that through her thick Spartan skull. She didn't stop for ammunition, choosing to make best time for the ops center. If it came down to it, she could always steal whatever weaponry the covies had. Not like they would be using it, given they'd be dead.

As she backtracked through the carnage she had left in her wake, Marines were already clearing corpses from the halls, setting up new defenses or repairing what had been hit. Sandbags were stacked up, and even some of the corpses would be used as bulwarks to stop the plasma fusillades that the Marines would be seeing when things heated back up.

Some bodies were set off to the side, covered in tarps taken from the cargo trailers strewn about the halls, some even covered by the jackets or loose clothing taken from them. Six saw more than one body clad in UNSC green. She didn't dwell on it, or the weary looks she got from the Marines that still had to fight, even while their brothers got to rest. She felt for them, but there was nothing she could do, and she dove back into the dark corridor that led to the ops center. There was a buzzing sound, though, that didn't quite sit well with her. It wasn't alone, either. The massive ventilation tube that led through the base's main corridors banged and shifted with every second, and she knew it was about to get bad.

The cave that had been set up with machine gun emplacements earlier, where she had met with Stacker once more, was quiet for the moment, and a Marine was there to meet her at the wire mesh fencing separating the corridor's entryway from the cave. A flicker of movement registered even while the Marine was speaking, and her gun was up in an instant. The Marine, shocked at the Spartan suddenly pointing a weapon at him, froze up. A shot rang out and behind him, a Drone fell dead on the damp stone flooring of the cave.

Looking down at the Drone, and then back up at Six, he swallowed and gave her a nod. Six returned it, already moving out into the cave proper, where the buzzing she had heard before came back with a vengeance. The ventilation piping suddenly broke open, nearly two dozen Drones swarming out of it with plasma pistols shining brightly in the low light.

Six's rifle was up and firing, plasma splashing against her shielding and causing it to give off an angry golden glow. Stacker was already in command, shoring up the defense. "Drones! A whole swarm of 'em! Lock 'em and drop 'em Marines! Short, controlled bursts!"

Six took cover behind a pillar that was thick enough to hide her bulk behind, peeking out and taking pot shots when she could before her shields recharged. Shifting her battle rifle to her back, the two SMGs came from their resting places on her thighs, coming up blazing as she fought the recoil. Drones began to drop like the flies they were, and the wall was soon covered in gore as Six gunned them down with the help of the Marine force acting as the last line of defense for this sector.

With the Drones downed, Six heard the loudspeaker come on again, Keyes' voice filtering through. "Barracks are under attack! All available combat teams, respond immediately! Anyone in the barracks, I need a sitrep now!"

Six wasted no time in moving. The barracks weren't far, and she could cut through the ops center. Any Marines that had been caught out in the barracks would be slaughtered if they didn't already have their armor on. UNSC personnel kept weapons in racks in the barracks in land bases, just in case the Covenant decided to come knocking without calling first.

Dumping the magazines from the SMGs, she slapped them against her thighs and let the magazines come loose as they settled into the mag wells. The battle rifle came next, with Six stopping just inside the weapons area that she had first armed up at, refilling her ammo and heading for the level above.

Stepping up the creaky metal staircase, Six saw a new addition: A large bomb had been set up where she'd been standing only 20 minutes before, Reynolds, Johnson and several Marine techs standing around it with Johnson's ever present cigar chomped between his teeth. On the main screen, Keyes sat at the controls of a Pelican, glancing over as she saw the flash of blue and then Johnson's cigar.

Keyes locked onto the Spartan, before she realized what the Sergeant Major was doing. "Johnson?"

"Mm-hm?"

"You might wanna put that out."

Johnson didn't respond, only taking the cigar and snuffing it out against the sole of his boot. Reynolds, crouching next to the bomb, was looking at an open panel full of wiring. "I don't know about this, Commander. If I try to hook up a timer, damned thing might just go off on its own." Throwing his hands up in a 'it could go either way' gesture, he backed away and looked up at Keyes.

She looked down at Reynolds first. "Do it, we don't have many other options. If the base isn't blown the Covenant will have that many more troops to throw at us, plus whatever information remains in the databanks that couldn't be purged in time." Looking to Six, she went on. "Good work getting those Pelicans out. As you can see, we've hooked up a little going away gift for the Covenant. Smaller charges have been set throughout the base, ready to go up when this one does. Johnson, as soon as the evacuation is complete, start the timer sequence and get the hell out."

"Understood ma'am."

"Good. I'll see you all on the last Pelican out."

The screen cut and Johnson put his unlit cigar back in a pouch on the front of his armor, gesturing for Six to come with him. "Come on. Brutes have stormed the barracks, Marines are trapped inside. You and I both know what they'll do if they keep their rampage going."

A group of Marines guarded the door, and a weapons rack full of shotguns was sitting ready for use. Six, inside of the helmet, felt her eyes light up as she got sight of the scatter gun. Grabbing one, she left the SMGs behind. Loading up on ammunition, she was ready to go, and nodded to the Marine guard to open the door.

To her side, Johnson clapped her shoulder. "Go, save those men, get 'em out. I'll handle the bomb. Motor pool is your first stop, barracks isn't far past that."

Six nodded and set off at a jog, the Marines closing and locking the door behind her. Now, the only way out was to go through the Brutes ahead, and with the first pump of the shotgun cradled in her arms, a shell was loaded, and the door ahead opened with a whining creak.

A Brute chieftain, clad in black and orange armor, stood with arms crossed at the end of the rising slope in the motor pool. Several others knelt in front of him, heads bowed as he barked and growled in their guttural tongue, and Six pulled her battle rifle out to get ready for long range combat. Sighting in on the Chieftain, she put her crosshairs on his unarmored face and fired. The first burst snapped his head back, the second pinged off of his shields, the third hit him full on as he came to his senses, and the fourth burst made them flare and fail.

The heavy headdress took another burst as she continued to fire, spikes finally coming in as the Brutes came to their senses and returned fire. The sloped crest was ripped off of his bald head as her final three rounds hit home, leaving him exposed. He began to move, but took a bullet in the side of the skull and went down in fits and spasms. Six rolled to the side, out of the doorway, and took cover behind one of the heavy trucks that had been left abandoned on the side.

Reloading her battle rifle, she poked her head out and fired again at a Brute Minor, taking his knee out with an agonizing roar, finishing him off with a final burst. Three more were left, and she unclipped a grenade from her armor, standing out just long enough to throw it. Return fire came in immediately, and her shields fell just as the grenade left her hand. Spinning back into cover, another spike round, as big around as her fist, glanced off of her armor at high speed with a loud pinging noise.

She bit the inside of her cheek and waited for her shields to recharge before dashing across to the next bay, moving up whenever she could. With only two Brutes left after the detonation of her grenade, she pulled the shotgun out, ready to take them on. One charged her, angry at the loss of its Chieftain, and she put him down hard. The final Brute, however, had enough sense to throw what remained of his plasma grenades at her.

Six saw them coming, diving out of the way and taking cover as the bright detonations made her visor polarize a bit more to protect her eyes. The shotgun was ready as she came up, and the Brute was the sole object of her anger. She moved quickly, closing the distance and ignoring the spikes that made her shield continue to fail.

She was on him just as they popped, the shotgun blasting at his shoulder and, despite having just enough to pop his shield, she fired again quickly, and the arm was completely torn from him. A final shot ended the Brute's life as he roared at the barrel.

With the shotgun still smoking, the Spartan continued on, coming to a door that had been covered in rubble, a massive hole leading down to a ventilation shaft. With a sigh, she dropped into it, her knees absorbing the shock of almost half a ton of woman and armor.

Several pipes led into the sides and up, and Drones came through several, meeting blasts from Six's scattergun as they tried to go where they pleased. She wouldn't let them. Another hole in the floor led down a level, dropping into another room that bordered on a canal, and Six could see a landing pad hanging suspended above and braced on a lattice support structure.

The barracks was just ahead, and she could already hear screams through the heavy metal door. She carried on, ready to keep the few Marines that still drew breath alive. Palming the release switch to the door, it opened with a loud whine that grated on her enhanced ears.

Inside, slumped against a pillar, Six could already see the bodies of several crumpled Marines, none of them likely to still be alive. Another corpse came from the right, hitting the pillar with a sickening crack that made Six's blood boil. With nothing holding it, the newest victim of the Brutes was left abandoned on the bodies of his comrades, and Six was in motion.

A sniffing sound before she rounded the corner, and the cries of a Marine. One of the Brutes in the barracks knew she was there. "Do you smell it? A fresh scent, a close one. Track it down!"

The Marine that had been captured continued to call for help, and Six was moving as fast as she could, but before she could move in, she heard another snap and the cries ceased almost immediately, and Six's teeth bared in a snarl as yet another life was snuffed out.

One of the Brutes made it to the corner first, and came face to face with an angry Spartan and the mouth of a shotgun barrel. A pull of the trigger scattered the contents of his skull and his destroyed helmet across the wall, the loud report of the shotgun sending every Brute in the barracks into a startled halt.

Chick-chak

A new shell was chambered and Six swung around the corner, sights directly on the Brute that still held the Marine in his giant paws. The other Brute that had begun moving off to the side raised his spike rifle to fire, and Six's knife was out in a flash, thrown at the Brute and spinning end over end. It had only just left her fingers when she fired once, and then again, at the Brute Captain she had her sights on, blasting his armor away. Her third shell was entering the chamber when she heard the meaty thud of her knife sinking into the Brute Minor's eye, followed by a scream.

The Brute Captain, left defenseless, was covered in buckshot holes as she chambered her fourth round, already pulling shells from her ammunition pouch and loading them in quickly. The Minor, somehow still alive, charged her with a roar, running on all fours.

With her shotgun not ready yet, Six continued to load it, slotting the final shell in as the Brute made it within arms reach. One long, blue armored leg swung out in a lighting fast kick, the force of the heavy armor augmented by her own strength and that of Mjolnir, and it snapped the Brute's head back with enough power to break his neck outright. He fell limp, the momentum of his body carrying him into a slide until he hit the wall.

Six hadn't made a sound, and the pumping of the shotgun echoed once more in the barracks, something that sounded almost mocking to the Brutes closing on her position. A UNSC magnum lay loaded in a Marine's hand, and Six snatched it up. The weapon had been loaded and a round was in the chamber, but he hadn't been able to fire. He must have been one of the first casualties, and Six attached it to her thigh armor. The heavy magnum was a perfect sidearm for a Spartan.

Ripping her knife from the corpse it had been sunk into, Six looked up to see that three Brutes had come around the next corner, all Minors, and Six took aim with the shotgun. They were too far out for the pellet scatter. She rushed forward, bounding from pillar to pillar as she saw her shield take damage from a few spiker rounds. It had dropped to half.

She was halfway through the section of the barracks when her motion tracker revealed one of the Brutes was closing, and she was ready for him. He hadn't even turned the corner when the shotgun was swung in an underhanded arch, the barrel coming up as she uppercutted the Brute. Jaws clicked together loudly, and the sound of the trigger acted almost like an echo before the shotgun howled again.

Six grabbed the now limp body, using it as a meatshield as she advanced. The feeling of spiker rounds thumping into the Brute's back transferred into her shoulder, and she grunted as she waited for the fire to stop.

Eventually, the Brutes ran their ammo dry, and the Spartan dropped their comrade, already in a sprint for them. One Brute, despite the species prodigious strength, was completely bowled over as her shoulder smashed into his chest. The other Brute was within range, and with her current target on the ground, she opened fire on the one still standing. His armor was destroyed and he gave a yell. Two more shots of rapid fire shelling and he was laying in a pool of his own blood.

The Brute under Six was coming to his senses, and batted the barrel of the shotgun away. Six didn't try to fight it, ripping the magnum from its position on her thigh and jamming it against his flat face, pulling the trigger once, twice, and again, before the pistol returned to its holster, smoke wafting from the barrel.

The shotgun was loading again, the Spartan not wanting to let the tubular magazine run dry in close quarters. Peeking around the next section, she saw two more Minors and the bronze-gold armor of a Brute War Chieftain, hefting a heavy plasma cannon at his waist. He spotted her before she could pull back, however, and plasma bolts were already well on their way to her before she was in cover. Pieces of concrete were chipping off of the wall, pinging off of her armor as she cursed, lobbing a grenade around the corner.

The Brutes scattered, and she threw another, looking around at them this time. The grenade had landed next to one of the Brutes, hiding in a small alcove. With nowhere to go, he was torn to shreds by the fragmentation of the grenade. Her battle rifle was out and stuck around the corner, chattering loudly as she suppressed the Brute that was stunned from two rapid detonations.

His shielding fell and he followed it soon after. That left only the War Chieftain. Six, however, was the prey now. The battle rifle was grabbed at the forestock, and as she saw the giant paw holding it, she began to fire as fast as the rifle could cycle its bolt. It didn't matter as the weapon clicked empty and was ripped away.

The massive Brute, wearing the ceremonial armor that was even more intimidating than that she had seen on Reach, roared in her face. The shotgun swung up and she fired only once, before it was pushed up. The shielding on the Brute flared brightly but held strong, and with the shotgun now without a shot, she was caught out.

Six only had time to brace herself as the Chieftain dropped his plasma cannon to the floor below and charged her. War Chieftains, being some of the biggest Brutes in any pack, were never to be fought at such close range, and Six was about to find out why the hard way.

One arm, as wide as a tree trunk, was around her, the Brute roaring as he picked her up and ran the dozen feet to the support pillar behind her. Six continued to beat and bash the Brute's head and shoulders, but it made no difference. The combined weight of the two broke the pillar completely and the Chieftain carried on through, until they impacted against one of the main walls.

The Spartan grunted, her breath leaving her as her body cried out in pain, and she realized she wouldn't be able to kill it like this before it broke her back. Reaching around the Brute's arm, she pulled the magnum from its holster and held it to the Brute's head. The impact had been enough to weaken the shields of both combatants, but as the magnum's loud report sounded, the Chieftain's shields flared.

They broke after the fourth shot, and it took several more to penetrate the heavy helmet he wore. With one final shot penetrating the Chieftain's skull, the pistol clicked empty, but the Chieftain pushed on, roaring in pain and anger.

Now, with Six held in two massive arms, she felt her armor giving out, and alarms started blaring in her ears as she fought to keep her scream in. Taking the pistol by the barrel, she started to pistol whip the Brute with it, every hit impacting where the bullets had deformed and torn the headdress he wore. More yells of pain from both sides saw Six finally smashing the brute's skull, collapsing it and her with it.

Being dropped to the ground as the brute went down, she felt herself struggling to draw air in, her armor protesting the treatment it had taken, but it would have to keep going. On her hands and knees, Six coughed as she managed to finally take a breath, letting the magnum go and leaving the warped weapon where it had come down. Looking at it, she shook her head and sighed, moving to grab her shotgun from where it had fallen, as well as her battle rifle, and reloaded both.

Her back was aching from where it had been clamped in the vice grip the Brute Chieftain had held her in, and she tried to ignore the pain. Looking around the barracks, it had fallen silent, bodies of both Humans and Brutes strewn about like life sized dolls. Puddles and rivers of blood were leading everywhere, the red of Marines and the off-red that the Brutes had mixing and staining the concrete floors as it soaked in.

She hadn't been able to save them. She was never able to save them. Always too little, too late, and she felt the anger, and the hate, rise up inside of her. Noble Six had tried her hardest to push these thoughts and feelings deep inside. A Spartan with more than just the combat on their mind was dangerous, more prone to slip ups, and more likely to be killed.

With a struggle that she knew she would be facing again soon, she managed to put her mental issues back in their box, hidden away from the light of day for another few hours. She would need to redirect that anger, to make it useful, or she had a feeling she might not make it.

Moving ahead, away from the barracks that housed only ghosts, she came to a lift, and stewed silently while it slowly came down. She was on it the moment it touched down, and heading up to a landing pad above.

There was a single Pelican on it, and Six recognized the woman in the front seat. Commander Keyes was at the helm, with the flirty pilot Hocus just behind her, once again sealed away in her flight helmet.

Before Six could say anything, Johnson was on the radio, plasma fire and the roar of an Elite heard in the distance, along with the staccato chatter of assault rifles. "Commander! We lost the ops center! Brutes came in force, couldn't hold them off. We're moving to the hangar now."

Hocus, always professional, hesitated as she saw Six coming closer. "What should I do, ma'am?"

Keyes snarled over the comm. "Hold position! I'm not leaving him!"

Six was already out onto the pad, moving to head to the opposite side and then the ops center. She would retake it on her own if need be. That's when she heard the roars of jetpacks.

Hocus' drawl sounded over the radio, cool even under the conditions. "Brutes with jump packs! They're lighting up my sensors above and below!"

"Get us moving, Lieutenant! They'll be going for the thrusters!"

"Aye ma'am, Kilo-Two-Three bugging out!"

Six was halfway across, in the center of the landing pad as the Pelican lifted off and began to vacate the landing pad. The chin gun opened up with a burst from its chin gun, shell casings raining down in a hail of brass as the gun growled loudly. Several Brutes wearing jetpacks came over the edge and into the opening for the landing pad. They were the unlucky ones. Those that had been hit by the Pelican's barrage were already dead on the ground outside, torn to shreds. These Brutes would die slower, locked in combat with Noble Six.

Three came down, landing and taking a moment to balance themselves, but Six would have none of it. One of the Brutes had landed within arm's reach almost, and she made sure that he paid dearly for his mistake, and the mistakes of his brethren laying dead in the barracks and across the base. Her shotgun roared and at such close range, the blast hitting shields that had no give meant his neck was snapped by the force, the shielding going out and leaving the pellets to fall with their target.

Another one, ready to fight, rushed her, and she spun around it with little fanfare. A shotgun blast to the back of his jetpack and it malfunctioned, sending the Brute careening into the cave wall and then to the deep waters below. There was no way out for him, the walls of the cave far too smooth for a Brute to scale.

Racking the slide, the final shell in her shotgun was ejected, and with only a few shells left in her ammo pouch, she frowned. Six wasn't pleased with the thought of losing one of her strongest weapons, and with the ops center having fallen, it would sorely be missed.

The final jump packing Brute came at her, flailing his arms in a wild attempt at hitting the Spartan and getting a lucky connection. Six mentally shook her head. If only all enemies were so pitiful. A shell loaded directly into the chamber of her shotgun was enough to drop his shields and, swinging the weapon by its barrel with a quick flick of her wrists, she caved the jumper's skull in with ease, satisfied with how easily it had gone down.

Six looked down the corridor that led towards the ops center, Johnson and a few Marines running towards her, with the Arbiter following close behind, an ignited energy sword in one hand and a plasma rifle in the other.

"Kilo-Two-Three, landing pad is clear, I can see Johnson now. Bring her back down, Hocus."

"Aye, ma'am, Kilo-Two-Three returning for final evac. You joining us, Lieutenant?"

"Negative, Hocus. I have the ops center. Get Johnson and the rest of the Marines out of here, and I'll find my own way out."

"...Yes ma'am, good luck. I'll see you on the other side."

"It's a date, then."

Despite the situation and Six's bordering on suicidal mission to return to the ops center and retake it on what might be a solo crusade, Hocus chuckled. "I'll hold you to it."

Johnson came up the stairs, his head wound reopened in the fighting and trickling blood once again. A Marine was hung between him and what turned out to be Gunnery Sergeant Stacker, a trio of Marines following close behind with weapons ready.

Johnson gestured to one of the marines to come forward and take the unconscious Marine, turning to Six once his burden was handled. "There were too many in there to take on, even for me. They have one of those big gold bastards, had a fuel rod cannon. Whole place is gonna be setting off rad alarms when you go in. You sure you wanna do this?"

Six, her battle rifle cradled in her arms once more, nodded. "Suicide missions are my specialty, Sergeant Major."

Johnson didn't look convinced, his brow furrowing. "Now don't you go throwing your life away-"

Six held up a hand, already moving past him. "I won't. I'll get the ops center back, and I'll make sure that bomb goes off. I'll be seeing you, Johnson."

The Marine went to open his mouth, but he knew the longer he delayed her, the lower her chances of surviving got, and the Pelican waiting on him was full of Marines that needed to get out. Turning away from her, he nodded to himself. "Yeah, be seeing you."

With Six's back being the last thing that the Pelican saw of the Spartan, Keyes frowned, but realized what Six was doing. Yet again, she would be leaving the Spartan behind, but knew that they couldn't wait any longer. "Get us out of here, Hocus."

"Aye ma'am."

Six, boots ringing on the steel stairs, heard the Pelican throttle up and lift off the of the open air landing pad. The sound of engines followed her into the main cargo corridor for only a few seconds more, before it was silent. All that was left now was the sound of her boots echoing off of the concrete flooring and her own breathing. Red warning lights were still flashing their slow rhythm, reminding her that things had only gone from bad to worse, as missions for Spartans usually did.

"Breaks over, Six," she told herself, mind drawn to the words that Carter had said to her not long after she had met Noble. Picking up the pace, she jogged through the corridor, taking count of her ammunition. A pair of magazines for the battle rifle, and only six more shells in the shotgun. They would have to do, and if she ran out, she'd take what she could from the Brutes themselves, or if it came down to it, she would use her fists. It wouldn't be her first rodeo.

The ammunition she had was enough to get her through the gauntlet of plasma cannons and light infantry, and the smoking barrel of her battle rifle clattered to the floor before the last echoes of gunfire had faded away. The shotgun had been barely used, none of the enemies she had faced requiring the raw power of the shotgun's buckshot. She had decided to save it for a rainy day, and with the ops center just ahead, it was about to pour.

A carbine was held securely in the blue armored arms, a full magazine in it and several more hooked into one of her ammo pouches. The motor pool she had engaged the Brute chieftain in earlier had been left full of bodies, even after the Covenant had retaken it. The only difference was the Brute pack now had company in death. It had been the final hurdle between her and the ops center.

The door lock mechanism was a bright green, with the door itself hanging open. Another remained ahead, leading into the ops center itself. Pressing her hand to the locking mechanism, the ops center opened to her, and the new owners of the base stood where she had been only an hour before.

A Brute War Chieftain stood with arms crossed, a fuel rod cannon resting on the ground next to him, leaned up against the now disarmed bomb. A trio of other Brutes were kneeling, eyes glued to the main screen, where the Prophet of Truth's scowling face sat.

The rack of weapons next to the door was still there, along with the remaining ammunition from earlier. Quietly, she grabbed several shells and dumped them into an empty pouch. Finally, she took aim with the carbine, crosshairs resting on the fuel rod gun. "I hope you bastards have good insurance," she muttered, and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out in the synthetic cough that belonged to the Covenant DMR, the shot ringing true and hitting the fuel rod cannon dead on. An explosion sounded and the War Chieftain was consumed in radioactive green fire. Even from here, Six's radiation alarms were going off. That wasn't a problem for her, though, in her sealed armor, and she made the most of it. Her finger hooked the trigger and pulled as fast as it would cycle new rounds.

The Brutes reacted quickly, she would give them that. Plasma fire and spiker rounds came in like hail, and Six ducked back into the cover that the ammo box provided. It shuddered heavily under the barrage it was taking, and plasma must have hit some of the remaining ammo, because pops and cracks sounded as the rounds on the other side cooked off.

A frag unhooked from her belt and was out into the ops center, missing its pin. It detonated a moment later and the incoming fire slacked off as Six rounded the ammo box and returned fire. A massive blackened area had been scorched next to the bomb, but hadn't detonated any of the explosives on it.

A Brute went down with a new hole in his head, and another was suffering from the heavy bleeding that fragmentation caused. He was crawled for a weapon, his own having been destroyed, and Six ended his journey before he could get to it. The final Brute, however, was tucked into his own cover, and Six advanced with her carbine firing in short intervals, holding the weapon one handed as the shotgun was pulled from her back.

When she was close enough, the Brute roared and came out swinging, but he was put on his back by a point blank shotgun blast, the slide pumping as she took it in both hands.

Satisfied, she moved to the bomb, and her armored finger had almost started the countdown, when she was hit from behind. Her shields dropped to half, and another crushing hit came to kill them completely. Alarms screeched in her helmet, and she let her instincts take over. A lack of situational awareness had killed Kat, but it would not claim Morgan.

Rolling to the side, the bomb's casing was slightly dented by the force of a giant hairy fist. Six's visor reflected the sight, and she realized she had made a mistake. The Brute Chieftain was alive, armor singed and burned, missing on his left side. Part of his helmet had been melted away, revealing a partially complete face that ended in a mess of sinews and muscle as the skin had been burned away. Cursing, she brought the shotgun to bear, but it was ripped away and thrown. A roar from the Chieftain covered her visor in flecks of spittle and blood, and her fist replied in kind as she knocked a few teeth loose.

It wasn't enough. The Brute was back on top of her before even she could react, another hammer blow hitting her chest plate. Six coughed, feeling her ribs shift under the assault, but nothing had broken yet. That would change if she didn't get distance.

Her feet kicked out like pistons, hitting the massive alien in the midsection. More blood was coughed up from the hits, the Chieftain stumbling back before a wheezing roar came again, and a massive hammer was pulled from his thigh. It looked less like the huge warhammers they carried, more like a close quarters weapon for fights like this. She had no doubt that if she got hit by that, it would be over.

A hit swung out, Six ducking below it and coming up with her knife already out and glinting in the failing lights of the ops center. The blade sunk into the Brute's arm just above the elbow, ripping up a few inches before Six withdrew. Another roar and the hammer came back in. Six tried to dodge again, but a glancing blow hit her shoulder pauldron and threw her off balance. She rolled with it, coming up as the Brute charged once more. With no way to dodge in either direction or to the rear, she charged forward, just barely avoiding another hammer blow as she took the Brute down with a half ton tackle.

Even the Chieftain faultered beneath such force, and Six pushed again, throwing him to the ground. He brought the hammer up, aiming for her face, but it mattered little as she threw her arm up just below the head of the weapon. Her other hand, still clutching the knife, buried it in his eye. The Chieftain screamed in pain, and Six yanked the knife out. Her hand was off the blade as it returned to its scabbard, and her final grenade was yanked from its home on her belt. The Brute's agony would be the death of him.

With a mouth wide open, Six pushed the grenade in bottom first, shattering what teeth remained as her fist forced entry. Pulling it back, the pin came with it, and Six rolled away. The muffled screams were halted as the explosion blew what was left of the Chieftain's face to bits.

A cleared ops center and a breathless Spartan remained. She shook her head, feeling something cold go up her spine, but she was running out of time. Six moved for the bomb, putting in the arming code and setting the timer for five minutes. It was just enough time to get out. She couldn't chance the Covenant taking the place and disarming it again. She was wary about her ability to take the ops center alone a second time. With the chirp of the timer and the green light, she keyed her radio. "This is Six, bomb is armed."

Keyes was the first to respond. "Good work, Lieutenant. We've got your exit. Hangar bay 03 has a service elevator leading to one of the motor pools. Head downstairs, cut through the caves, exfil on the ground. We'll link up with you soon. Keyes out."

Not willing to waste anymore time, Six scooped her carbine up and started to run, but passing by the Brute once more, she stopped and grabbed its hammer, hooking it to her left hip, opposite her knife. With a burst of speed, she was out, going back down the stairs and through the cave that had been filled with Covenant infantry now. She had been just a little too fast for them. Any longer with that Brute and reinforcements would have gotten the jump on her.

Alarms started blaring through the base, a computerized voice warning of imminent self destruction. Grunts and Jackals took their places, some screaming and fleeing, others standing against the Spartan that would still rip through them like wet tissue paper. Those that blocked her path met a grizzly end, and she was once again in the main corridor. The Warthog that had been destroyed earlier was finished smoldering, and she regretted not being able to stop to grab their tags. The funeral pyre she had set for them would have to do.

Her breathing was loud in her ears, overcoming even the sound of the alarms and the swarm of Drones following close behind her. Plasma fire came in, splashing against the back of her shields and nearly dropping them completely before she turned into the hangar corridor.

A short run left her with the hangar wide open in front of her, a Phantom trying to load up what troops it could. The nose plasma cannon fired, splashing across the base's walls as Six tried to dodge around it. The elevator was to the right, behind a phalanx of Jackals.

Six cursed. It had to be Jackals, didn't it? She didn't stop running, her shields only barely recharging to full strength before she started taking fire again. The plasma hit her directly, dropping them to a quarter of their strength, and the shielding system wailed its disapproval of her tactics, but she ignored it. Pushing herself to go even faster, she barreled straight through the shield wall the Jackals had made and kept going, the service elevator coming into view as a muted thump sounded behind her. The bomb had gone off, and with it, the secondary charges laced throughout the base.

The Spartan rolled into it and slapped the elevator's controls, with the door shutting even as flames began to lick at the cracks. A feeling of fear grabbed at Six's heart, the elevator descending far too slowly for her liking, and above, the open roof of the platform showed the fire break through the door and travel down the shaft faster than the elevator could have ever hoped to move.

Covering her visor with her arms, Six felt the heat wash over her as the armor tried to compensate. The elevator beneath her feet shuddered, groaned, and gave out, and the falling sensation that came with it snatched her stomach from her, and just as quickly it had stopped, slamming Six into the ground as even her powerful legs failed to hold her up.

With the ground rushing up to meet her, Six's helmet hit the floor with a sickening crack, and her vision went black almost completely. Struggling against the darkness, Six's energy was taken from her, and everything was gone as Noble Six succumbed to the impact.