First Move

Snow, so gentle and beautiful. Falling freely from the sky with no pattern or plan. Just falling wherever the wind would take it and landing gently on the ground. A miracle if one were to make it safely without breaking. The pine forest, once green now white and tinted. Small patches of green pines showing their face underneath the inches of snow that fell steadily.

The ground had been already covered in white powder, the air cold enough to stiffen the snow but not wet enough to freeze it. One could say it was perfect for packing snowballs, with the six or so inches already covering the forest floor it would be a prime war zone for such a kids activity.

Unfortunately there was no such chaos here. The forest held a certain quiet and stillness that was both peaceful and settling. Every once in a while a gust of wind would running through the breaks and spaces between the tree trunks. Causing the branches to shift and fight amongst each other. Throwing the snow that had been peacefully sitting atop them.

Other than the occasional gust of wind that would disturb the tranquility of the forest, there was no other disturbances. No animals running along the floor, no birds flying through the air. Given the temperature and the season of the year, they were all gone to some place warmer or sleeping till the snow melted and sun heated up the planet.

The planet itself right now was mostly a winter tundra. Other than forests there were large rocky mountains that housed frosted tips of snow. One might see a plains placed between the biomes of forests and mountain ranges, covered in snow and flat in nature. Probably the ground for large flower fields or other flora. The sky white and cold reflecting perfectly what type of condition the planet was in.

The planet itself was far from what one would call a winter wasteland. The shades of green that forced their way through the waves of white was enough to prove that life was merely sleeping underneath all the ice and snow.

Truly just a peaceful planet.

The sounds of crunching snow was the only noise that echoed through out the forest ground. The gusts of wind and shifting of branches most of the time drowned out the sounds of snow. A figure walking on the forest floor, wearing black armor that was almost the very opposite of the environment that they were in.

Within in their hands a rifle, a DMR to be exact, placed firmly in their shoulder yet held low. Ready to be raised and fired if the situation called for it. A Spartan, a hunter, an assassin, Noble Six. A soldier traveling alone through the winter forest as the flakes of snow fell upon him. His black armor having shades of white as snow stuck to him, the air being too cold for the flakes to melt upon contact.

His orange visor reflected the white environment around him clearly. Mirroring the snow flakes that fell in front of him or sometimes on the visor. The orange see through mixture of rare materials sometimes housed the thin snowflakes, only for them this time to melt due to the slight amount of electricity that ran through it in order to run the Head Up Display.

The armor itself had many layers in order to keep body heat in, however on the other side if Six were to be on a planet that was mostly hot, the armor would act as a cooler and allow massive amounts of body heat out. Thanks to the complex on board system and computer databases that the suit housed, as well as connection to his neural implants and processing chips placed at the base of his skull, it was able to read the conditions of the planet and adapt accordingly. Making sure he would not freeze to death on the spot.

At his side as always was his pistol, on his chest plate his classic combat knife, and on the back of his waist line Emile's Kukri. Though on his back a small box like storage container. Within in supplies for the mission ahead. Given the nature of the task at hand, Six had to leave his ship hidden away at the edge of the forest. A head of him a multiple day walk and despite what other may think, he did indeed need to eat.

So he packed a couple of M. , already having ate two, he had three left, one for after the mission and the others for the trip back. As a Spartan he had gone many times without eating food on a consistence basis. Though sooner or later he would need to super load to ensure his augmented body did not shut down on itself.

This planet had been only a couple planets away from the urbanized one that Project Freelancer had raided for their objective only a week ago. Now two days after Six had done his own raid to gather information from Charon Industries he was here on this planet.

As he thought, and with the information he had gathered from the police station, Six was able to cross reference both sources of information and come up with a somewhat accurate objective area. The target are suspected to house a Freelancer outpost was hidden among the base of the mountains just on the outside of this forest. Having parked his Sabre on the opposite end, the Spartan found that it would benefit him more in the long run if he approached on foot. In order to draw less attention to himself.

The only downside to this plan was that the walk itself was around three hundred kilometers from the edge of the forest to his target area. That in turn when walking at a decent pace to ensure no one is following and he was staying hidden would take him around sixty hours to complete one way. Six was secretly hoping that once he had reached the Freelancer outpost he could simply steal a mongoose or warthog and drive back. That would be must simpler.

However he had already camped out twice underneath the cold sky that continued to snow even at night. Finding some sort of covering, whether that be a thickness of trees or a rock hang over to sit and sleep under. Each night Six slept four quick hours. Just enough to give him the strength to continue and move before the sun rose. Making sure to use the daylight hours to the best of his ability.

His eyes went to the corner of his Heads Up Display. The top of his HUD reading his health and body condition, while the right was connected to his ammo supply not only in his weapons but the extra munitions he carried on his armor. Finally to the left was a radar, with it his own position and a further dot marking his objective with a waypoint and a measurement of distance.

The Spartan had about a quarter of a day worth of walking left to do. Hopefully making to the objective in time to scout out the base, rest, then proceed with his mission. His mission? To assault the outpost and gather more information on the location of the project and it's agents. However Six figured the most likely outcome of this mission would be the location of another, or perhaps the rest, of the outposts Freelancer had under it's control.

He doubted that they blatantly would state the future location of the Mother of Invention, so he would have to follow their trail one outpost at a time. It would take some time, but he had all the time in the world. Or. . .he did, but he did not want to give it away.

There was still the thought of the Great War at the back of his mind. The idea of fighting the Covenant once more, fighting against the very army that his team died to defeat. Wouldn't it make their deaths meaningless if he didn't fight for the same reason they died for?

He carried their tags with him everywhere, no matter matter the mission, no matter the attire. If he were to get a new set of armor tomorrow, one that did not hold the scars of Reach, he would bring those tags with him. Almost like he was transferring those very scars. He did so to remember their will, their courage, and their purpose. They died for the purpose of fighting for humanity, doing what was right and dying so others could live.

So he could live.

With every action he made, he held those memories at his core. Never letting go to ensure that he did what was right by them. So that they could rest easy knowing that what they died for was not for nothing, but that he would carry those purposes until he either finished them or died trying. So, there was a part of him that wanted to finish this quickly. That way he could get back to what he felt he needed to do.

If only it was that simple.

He had his orders, ones that he would follow. He was given a mission, one that he would complete. That was the core of a Spartan, to be the greatest soldier, to be the greatest weapon for the UNSC to use. To always follow orders and get the mission done. So even though there was a small part of him that wanted something else, the rest of him knew what he had to do right now.

Even though right now he was what Carter ordered him not to be. A Lone Wolf, the Grim Reaper. That was what ONI reinstated when they gave his headhunter title back, when they stamped his file with the headhunter seal once more. Six could already tell that despite his best efforts to stay away from that 'black ink' perspective. The one that he had before Noble Team, the mindset of covering yourself with black ink so that others did not have to. He was slowly becoming what he was made for.

Back during the raid on the police station he had tried to make sure that he would not harm or kill any of the officers. Despite not being UNSC, they were just soldiers and yes technically his enemies for they stood in the way of his objective, that did not mean he had to kill them to get by. Yet when the time came and the alarm rang, he reverted back to what he used to do. Kill those that witnessed, so no one could tell the story.

He was alone again, a part of him thought that ONI knew that if they sent him alone on this mission they would get their personal Grim Reaper back. But in the end that was what he was ordered to be and he had to follow orders.

That was what he was made to do.

If this is what it took to get him back in the war against the Covenant, if this is what he had to become in order to complete the mission they left to him, Noble Six had no regret in deciding that is exactly what he would do. He owed them that much, all of them. Every person on Reach that was killed, every soldier that died under his command, his team that died making sure he continued to live. He owed them everything.

But now was he not ordered to do what the Covenant had done to him? He had read all of the Freelancer files, mostly focusing on those that made it to the top fifteen or so. They had known each other for a while, training together, getting to know each other, even going as far to call each other family. Despite the competitive nature the Project had they still held each other close. Some closer than others.

For their number one, Agent Carolina, it was Agent New York. The two having met each other at a bar where it was recorded she convinced him to join the Project. Reading Agent New York's file, Noble Six got the impression that he was not much of an organized military man.

Many reports of theft, even some UNSC warrants for breaking and entering. But at the center of it all a small group of mercenaries that he had run with long before he had met that Agent at the club. A man that valued his friends, his team. So what made him leave that behind to join the Project? What made any of them.

Agent North Dakota was another strange case. From his personality profile gathered from the Office he was a caring and gentle man. Something that gave his marksmen skills a sharp and dangerous edge. He had even gone through the process with his sister to go through UNSC basic military training. He had scored the highest with his sister close behind for potential future opportunities as a marksmen and soldier.

He and his sister would have had a good career in the UNSC. Yet they left, all to join Project Freelancer. Why?

Noble Six could usually come up with a profile for those that he was targeted with assassinating. For most rebels it was a troubled past with the UNSC, feeling that because of the actions the United Nations in expanding their colonies, they were disrespected and mistreated. Others it was just growing up in the family. Each had a motive that could be clearly understood, even described as being 'bad people'.

But the Freelancers, with the exception of some, had no 'bad people' qualities. Each seemed to be people that would have had decent lives in the UNSC, perhaps even becoming ODSTs or something more high class and resourceful to help benefit the military in it's future. That is if the military was what they wanted in life.

But they joined Project Freelancer, an organization that was breaking the law, hurting innocent people. Six could not sit there and say the UNSC was perfect, even he had committed some actions that were questionable to say the least. But all was done with the idea that at the end of the day it was for the right reasons.

Perhaps that is what they thought as well? Or maybe it was something else entirely. . .

There was something deep within the Hyper Lethal Spartan, a feeling in his heart that weighed down to his stomach. A gut feeling, one that he had gotten a lot when he was in the field alone with no one to watch his back. The feeling that he was walking into a situation that did not seem to be a good one. It was a feeling he had never gotten before, especially when it came to following orders.

Doubt.

Perhaps it was his time that he spent on Reach with Noble Team. Despite being a group of great soldiers, Carter being one of the most dedicated Spartan's to the UNSC that Six had ever worked alongside of. They still questioned orders when something seemed off. They looked out for each other, that was the end goal.

The Spartan remembered the time they had spent in the skyscraper in the city, right before the glassing. Kat had hacked into some senior level communications only to find out that Noble Team had been one of the the, if not the, only Spartan strike force to run offensive counter operations against the Covenant assault. The rest had been tasked with defensive evacuation operations.

The move was bold and it was one that would certainly earn a slap on the wrist if found out about. But Carter, despite objecting first, allowed it in order to discuss it with his team and tell them the truth concerning the situation. The same went when Kat had tried to access Dr. Halsey's data drive concerning her own project she had deep within Reach's crust. It was also Kat that had come up with the slip space drive assault on the Covenant super carrier.

That curiosity had been something that border insubordination, something he had heard Halsey mention directly. But perhaps it was Six's ability to follow orders but do so outside the box thanks to his time with Noble Team that caused him to be picked by that A.I as it's courier.

However, he could be simply overthinking this. He had been warned by the Doctors that it would take some time for his mind to recover fully from the battle on Reach. The death of Noble Team weighed heavily on his mind, despite him not wanting to admit that out loud. Maybe because this was his first assignment alone again that he was starting to doubt his own abilities.

Looking down to the ground he would see that the snow that had piled up had grown. Gaining another inch or so in height as the snow flakes from the sky continued to rain steadily amongst the pines of the trees. The sun was setting slowly, the rays of light bouncing of the frozen water as it reflected it's orange glow perfectly.

He had been walking a while, even the snow that stuck to his armor had grown enough for him to have to wipe it away with his hand. Causing a small cloud of snow to be blown away by the gentle wind. His eyes went to the top left of his Heads up Display again. He was close to his objective, he should be there any second-

And it was almost on cue when he had run into the edge of the forest. Taking one more step before stopping the Spartan froze and held himself tensely. He dropped to one knee, making sure to hide himself and his darker armor shade against the thick brush that was the forest backdrop behind him.

He rose his DMR to his visor and looked through the scope mounted to the top. In front of him was the outpost he had been looking for. The back of the outpost pressed against the base of the mountain as the main tower stood tall in the middle. Two defensive look outs on each corner and a single entry point defended by two barricades and two turrets.

A small trail of smoke ran into the sky from the center of the outpost, proving that there were indeed personnel inside. But from the looks of it, it was not a major outpost. Considering the amount of equipment, warthogs and mongooses, they were not equipped to support a large scale force. Perhaps they were depending on the base being rather secluded and hidden away.

Moving his sights around the base he found himself looking to large square crates, stacked on top of each other with the help of a crane that was parked against the inner wall of the outpost. They were labeled with a simple ammunition symbol of three bullets placed together.

An ammunition supply then? It would make sense why Freelancer had to stop here after the raid on the Charon Industries Tower. Here they also had a stable location to treat Agent Maine. He doubted that any trail they left behind was still warm but he would be able to find clues. Not to mention taking out an outpost would be a benefit to not only his mission but also the UNSC as a whole.

Keeping his kneeling position, he lowered his weapon. Removing his support hand and placing two fingers to the side of his helmet. The sound of static before a voice came through his speakers.

"This is command, we read you Noble Six. What's your status?"

"Command this is Six," He said, his voice holding true to his monotone way of speaking he had back on planet Reach. Even now his youth shined through the words he spoke. "I have located the Project Freelancer outpost. Awaiting your command."

It was silent on for a moment before the man on the other line came through. "Good work, Six. Your orders are to gather information. And destroy the outpost."

Destroy the outpost. So that's how it was? His visor lowered slightly as the reflection of the horizon displayed clearly. His armor and body were still as his eyes scanned the area in front of him. Unfocused but watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky.

He was back, back to making people disappear. This was it. The Lone Wolf, the Grim Reaper was back.

He slowly raised his hand to his helmet to respond. "Copy that. . .Six out." And with that Six dropped his two fingers effectively cutting off the transmission. His hand found it's way back underneath his weapon. Supporting the DMR as he held it in a low ready position, kneeling in the snow.

His helmet moved to the left, following the parameter of the outpost to the edge of the mountain. They had picked a good area to place the outpost, the mountain side had barely edges or overhangs. Mostly flat and steep. There was no place to post himself or obverse from above.

His helmet then returned to it's original position, a small adjustment as the material of his armor shifted slightly with his head. For the most part there was no cover from him to the base. It was all open area, a perfect defensive position to watch from not only the watch tower but also the two defensive fighting positions around the entry point.

The area in front of him was like a horse shoe, the outpost being in the middle and the open area around it. All the way around the front and sides would be the forest creating the horse shoe. Then finally the mountain that was backing the outpost and providing the rear security of the base.

Six's eyes followed the edge of the forest to the right, there it would seem that the trees would thin but also connect to the mountain. The same mountain base that the outpost was backed against. If the Spartan could follow the edge of the forest to that meeting point. He could use the cover of the night and the snow to slide along the side and perfect infiltrate using that mountain.

The only defenses would be the watch tower and the guard post that was placed at the corner where the wall and mountain met. From the layout of the other guard posts, this one would be equipped with two turrets and two guards. The next guard post would be towards the front on the front right corner of the base. Moving quickly in the cover of the night he should be able to get inside quietly. Actually quietly this time.

Taking a couple more mental notes in his head, Six decided that he had his game plan for now. Raising his head to look towards the sky he looked at the position of the Sun. Seeing that night was able to set in, he would need to find some shelter to gain a few hours of sleep before assaulting the outpost towards the middle of the night.

He lowered his head and looked to his right, looking into the forest. He would follow the edge of the forest until he reached his entry point. There he would set up camp, finding shelter of some kind and rest. Given that his entry point was the point at which the forest met with the mountain he figured he would be able to find some sort of overhang or cave.

Sliding his knee back, he moved his body backwards. Making sure to conceal himself in the thick foliage of pines before standing up. Upon doing so he made his way to his feet. Yet as he stood up straight a sharp pain shot through his stomach. Reactively he winced, letting out a hiss as he took a deep breath and grabbed his stomach.

Placing too much pressure on it would cause another jump in pain. Forcing him to pull his hand away and tense. Taking yet another deep breath, Six gently placed his hand there. Checking for open bleeding, thankfully there was none. His wound must have just gotten sore given how much he had been moving on foot. The police station situation probably had not helped.

Six had been warned by the Doctors before leaving that he would need to give his wound time to heal. Jumping into action this early was not recommended but when ONI wants something done they get it done. For him that just meant speeding up his recovery.

Standing still for a moment he felt as the pain slowly dropped away. Lowering his hand as it dissipated into nothing. Taking one more deep breath, the Spartan stood up straight and supported his weapon once more. He would need to be careful during this mission that was coming up soon. If he was not, then he could risk greatly injury.

With a turn of his body he took a step forward, the sound of crushing snow being heard underneath his feet. Time to prepare.

The sky was now dark, black with night as light of the moon shined between the thickness of clouds. The stars shielded by the patches of cloud that continued to produce small snow flakes. However, compared to early today the snow fall had slowed and lighted. Now just a gentle fall of small flakes that came every once in a while.

It took Six almost the rest of the sunlight to find his camping spot for the night. A small clearing between the forest and the base of the mountains where a small over hang of rock protected the ground underneath from the weather.

The crackling of wood burning could be heard as the small light of a fire shined brightly from the center of the over hang site. Six's supply bag leaned against the rocky wall that was the mountain base. The Spartan sitting next to the fire, his back leaning against the mountain base as well as both legs laid stretched out in front of him.

A small package of MRE laid on his lap as his gloved hand laid on top of it. His orange visor pointed directly at the fire as the reflective glass like material mirrored the dancing flame. His free hand reached up and opened the storage compartment hidden within the center of his chest, opening after unlatching a few quick release latches, he reached inside and pulled out the desired items.

What came out was the pairs of dog tags the he carried with him. All stacked together as they rested in the center of his hand. His helmet would fall slightly as his eyes went to look them over once more. Not a moment went by when he was not aware of their presence among him. Constantly sitting at the back of his mind like a scar refusing to leave his memories.

His other hand would come off the MRE as it reached for a pair of tags. Grabbing at them at picking them apart from the rest. Angling it towards the light of the fire, the Spartan was able to read the letter etched into the center of the metal tag.

'Jorge 0-52'

This was arguably the heaviest tag to carry, despite them all being heavy enough. Mostly because Jorge had been one of his closest friends during his time in Noble Team, the first to actually warm up to the idea of another Noble Six.

Six's mind drifted to a memory of the giant. About a week after he had joined Noble Team when the team had just returned from a mission. Soon, the landscape around Noble Six was no longer the forest he had been sitting in. Instead it was Reach as his mind drifted deeper into the memory.

"Nice work, Noble," The leading voice of their commander broke the silence of the ride back from the mission objective. Noble One speaking as he stepped out of the Falcon, followed by the rest of the team. "Rest up, we have more work in the morning." He said, reaching for his helmet to take it off and carry it underneath his arm.

The next to follow him off was Noble Three, after that Four, then Two and finally Five and Six. All of them reaching for some crate of equipment to be carried and placed off of the gunship. The newest addition of Noble team looked to find Kat reaching to carry two metal crates. He walked closer and offered his arms.

"Allow me," He said, offering his strength to help carry some of the load. Yet his gesture did not get a welcomed response. As she continued to pick the crates up and push past him.

"If you want to help, carry your own. Six." She said, her voice holding a certain sass and attitude that broke the regular Spartan monotone. She continued to walk forward before dropping the crates. Turning her head to look at him once more before disappearing inside the outpost. Leaving Six to stand there and watch.

Six lowered his arms, dropping his shoulders slightly as he took a deep breath. He knew that Noble Two had been the most stubborn to warm up to him. Jorge and Jun had both introduced themselves to be quite friendly, Jorge more than Jun. Carter was their leading commander and though he held a personal relationship with the rest of his team. He kept Six strictly professional for now. Emile did not say much, whether that was because he could care less about the new addition or simply because he did not like him, Six could not tell. Then Kat. . .well that whole interaction summed up that situation.

The Team worked well together, Six could tell it was because of the countless battles they had been through together. They did more than work together, they knew each other. They knew what the others were thinking, probably before they even thought it. They knew each others weaknesses and strengths and complimented and covered each of those traits well.

Of course throwing a new addition into the mix would cause issues and hiccups. They did not know Six, they did not know how he operated, who he was or even what he liked. He was an unknown, all they did know was what was on his file. And all they saw, was his black Ink. Other than Carter who had seen everything.

At first, it seemed like that this team would turn out no different than the others he tried to join. Eventually just refusing to work with a 'Lone Wolf' and forcing him to reassign once more. It was only a matter of time.

"Don't let it get to you." The deep and caring voice of Jorge broke Six out of his thoughts as the smaller Spartan felt Jorge place his hand on Six's shoulder. "She'll warm up to you. Just give her time." He said, walking to stand next to the Spartan as he sat down his large chain gun and removed his helmet. His eyes trailing down to look in the visor of the new addition.

"She doesn't seem very friendly." Six answered, meeting Jorge's gaze underneath his helmet. Adjusting his stance as he shifted weight from one foot to the other.

"Well," Jorge trailed off as he brought a hand up to scratch his chin, a small smile coming to his face as he let out a chuckle. "No she doesn't seem that way does she?" Noble Five brought his gaze back down as he lowered his hand. Looking for a reply only to receive a quiet stare from Six. "She's a good person," He said with a sigh. "She's just still getting over the loss of our last Noble Six."

Six lowered his head to the side for a moment. He had heard about that, that Spartan profile was attached to the mission briefing he received before being assigned to this strike team. "Spartan A-293?" He asked, bringing his head up.

"Yeah, Thom." Jorge's voice dropped slightly, the pain in his own voice was clearly heard by Spartan B-312. It was apparent that he was a major piece in Noble Team and left a large hole that no one could fill. "He was a good soldier. Guy was a damn cowboy. Always throwing himself into situations. Kinda what got him in trouble in the end."

Noble Five straightened his posture and continued. "A mission to destroy a battlecruiser holding a position over a city. Thousands dead and many more to come if we didn't do something quickly. Kat came up with a plan to deliver a payload to the ship and destroy it. She was supposed to it's carrier but got hit by a stray Banshee plasma rocket. Thom then decided to pick up where she couldn't. . .He didn't make it back."

Noble Six remembered reading about that mission. The cruiser had been destroyed but, they kept the death of a Spartan out of the public records. Hoping to keep morale of the victory high. It seems Noble paid more than their fair share of that victory. There was no glory in battle. But there was pain.

"She blames herself."

"Both Carter and Kat took responsibility for his death. O.N.I had brought heat down on Colonel Holland and he wanted answers for why this plan resulted in the death of a 'valuable resource'." Jorge's voice added the effect of quotations so his hands did not have to. "So, yeah she does. Six. . ." Jorge placed both his hands on his knees as he pushed himself onto his feet. Looking at Noble Six and resting his hand on his shoulder once more.

"I know that we're all happy to have a new teammate, even Kat. Most of us have been on this team for a while now. It's all we know. You'll learn that some have certain ways of showing their respect and get used to it. But Kat, she just doesn't want to go through that again. She'll come around." Jorge removed his hand and grabbed his chain gun and helmet. "Get some rest, we have another mission in the morning." He said walking towards the door. He stopped and turned his head. "Oh, and Six? Good work today."

The memory faded with the reflection of the dog tag crashing into Six's visor. His eyes planted to the metal that shined thanks to the orange flame that continued to dance freely. The tag slowly fell into the center of his hand, before his fingers closed around it. His grip tightening slightly.

Jorge had not been wrong that night. It did not take long before the team warmed up to him, even Kat. Emile was right, Jorge was indeed always sentimental. But Six did not think that was a bad quality to have. Despite the usual stigmas around Spartans and emotions.

It was true that they were taught and trained to be cold. Resistance to temptations of emotional influence that could end up getting them and their allies killed in the battlefield. But the sense of emotional depth that Jorge had outside of the battlefield was a refreshing way to set aside the weight that battle usually had.

Jorge always made sure the mission was completed as it was every Spartan's purpose. But he always made sure his teammates were taken care of and safe. He carried them, not only with his strength but also his heart. A good man, one that deserved better. They all did.

As the dog tags continued to be gripped in his hand, Six's head laid back. His helmet resting against the mountain base as he was forced to look up at the cloudy night sky. As he sat there he could feel the exhaustion finally setting in. The toll of walking all that distance had finally caught up with him.

Though his grip remained strong on Noble Team's dog tags, his focus to stay awake did not. He knew that he had to grab a few hours of sleep before his mission. He would make sure he woke up just before the sun would rise. That would give him enough sleep and time to complete it effectively.

Just before he could run through the plan in his mind one more time, it went blank. The blackness of his eyes closing cutting any thoughts in his mind off completely. With his mind drifting, the fire also faded. Leaving him in complete darkness.

The sound of war echoed through out the night. Gun shots, explosions, screams, all of them came crashing down on the sleeping Spartan would have fallen into a quick slumber. Only two hours had passed since he had drifted away and he was met no long after with noises of war.

As time would past, second by second, the noises would only increase. More and more explosions getting closer and closer. People calling out for help, calling for his help.

'Tell'em to make it count.'

'First glassing?'

'You're on your own Noble.'

'I'm ready, how 'bout you?!'

And with one final large explosion that felt like it was right on top of him, the Spartan leaped out of his sleep. Pulling his pistol and pointing it forward, ready to fire.

Yet, as the gun held ready, the noises were no more. There was no firefight, no explosion or casualties just the silence of the forest. The soft embers that remained from the fire being denied any extra wood to burn, danced gently as a soft breeze ran through.

The snow had continued, holding steady to the pace it had been falling before he had fallen asleep. Six's eyes darted from one side to the other, making sure that the world before him was what it truly looked to be. And once he had confirmed that there was nothing there, he dropped his aim. Letting a large exhale of air out before looking to his hand that clenched his teammates tags so violently.

Six opened his hand shakily before closing it just enough to hold a grip. Coming up and putting them away within his armor. This feeling of unease that was deep within his chest, the sounds of Reach. What was going on? He figured he was just simply dealing with the aftermath still.

He pushed the thoughts off as nothing major, thoughts that he had brought up due to the amount of silence and free time he had to spend within his own head. It would go away, sooner or later.

It had to.

Placing the pistol to his side, Six stood up. Kicking some dirt over the embers to hide their light and any sign that he had been here. Reaching over and picking up his supply bag, he attached it to his back. Also grabbing his DMR that had been leaning next to the bag on the mountain base.

He held his DMR in a low but ready position, checking himself and his supplies over once more before looking towards his objective. His infiltration point was not too far from here. He could make the walk within the next ten or so minutes. It was a gamble to set up camp so close but in the end it paid off.

Taking a step forward, Six left any thoughts of what just happened behind at the campsite. He would be able to deal with any of that after this mission had been completed. Not just this current mission, but the whole mission to take care of Project Freelancer. That is when he could have a break, get over this and finally get back to the Great War.

The Spartan stopped, meeting his waypoint that he had set within his Heads Up Display. Raising his DMR to his visor he looked through to see if there had been any changes to the lay out or security of the base. There had not been.

Each guard team had continued to watch over the same spots, each changing position within the same period of time as before. The watch tower maintained it's steady but constant sweeping of the area with a spot light. Everything was going according to his plan.

With the cover of the night and the thick forest Six was able to obverse the guard post on top of the wall. This one tasked with watching the back right corner of the base away from the only entry point to the outpost. The Spartan's eyes would travel to the mountain, seeing a couple of sharp edges that jumped out from the smooth inclined surface.

Six's plan was to climb the mountain to about equal height of the outpost wall. Find a ledge to stand on and jump the distance into the guard post. Doing so at the right time would allow him to neutralize the guards watching and make his way inside.

His first and only stop would be the main headquarters of the base. Access their database would allow Six the opportunity search through their files for one of two things. One was either a list of all their supply routes. Given this outpost mostly was used for ammunition transport to other outpost, if he was able to access such a log, he would know most if not all of Freelancer's outposts.

The second was probably more of a dream than a realistic goal. If he had found something relating to where the Director was going next, he would be able to track them down and finish this. But he knew the Director was a paranoid man, simply allowing his location to be tracked so easily was something he doubted he would let happen. So Six would hope for the first result.

The wall was about twenty feet in height, so he would have to scale the mountain a little higher than that if he wanted to be successful in his plan. Turning his head to face the mountain side, he placed his DMR on his back. Hearing the click of the magnets attaching to the rifle's base ensuring that it would stay.

The Spartan reached one hand up, taking a grip of one of the ledges and placing his foot at the base. Pulling himself up, he reached for another ledge and repeated the process of climbing the mountain. He continued, a couple of times slipping due to the wet and icy snow but never slipping enough to fall back to the ground.

His eyes went to a rather large edge, one that might have been considered more of an overhang as it was large enough to support his weight entirely. Making sure to reach for it with both hands, the Spartan began to pull himself up to it, throwing one leg up and rolling over to his side to completely lift himself onto the ledge.

Six went to stand up however the light of the watch tower scanned just above his head, prompting him to drop to his stomach. His head raised slightly to get a better look of his position, he could see the guard post just in front of him. Of course between him and the post was probably fifteen or so feet. He should, should, be able to clear that and grab onto the guard post.

But he could also see the two guards standing by and keeping a look out. Well 'keeping a look out'. They both seemed to be talking, their weapons held lazily as they expected that this would be just another routine shift for guard duty.

Six watched as the light came closer once more, waiting for it to pass so he could make his move. Once it did, he dropped his head and watched as it ran by. So, now that he was in the clear the Spartan jumped up and began to run to the edge of the ledge. Leaping into the air and reaching his hand for the edge of the guard post.

His hand caught the rail that kept them from falling as his body slammed against the metal. Creating a rather large thud. Making sure to hold his grip tight, Six reached for his second hand to grab the ledge only to hear the voices of the guards.

"What the shit? Did you hear that?" One said making his way towards the edge.

"Probably just an animal or something."

"An animal? Are you fucking kidding me? Whatever dude, just stand there lazy ass. I'll look."

The Spartan could see the guard's rifle, reaching his hand up he grabbed it and yanked it over. The guard letting it go out of surprise and letting out a surprised yelp. Yet before he could say anything else, a knife was placed into his chest as he fell backwards into the guard post.

The other guard would turn to look at his friend now fallen over dead. "What the fuck?!" He would say to himself raising his weapon to look around, seeing nothing. Then he would go limp as arms would wrap around his neck and twist it violently, snapping his neck and killing him.

The Spartan standing within the guard post walked over to the guard he had stabbed with his knife and pulled it out. Keeping it in his hand just case he needed to use it another time. He wanted to go quiet with this mission so firing off his guns would do him no good.

He walked over to the edge of the post that over looked the inside of the base. It did not take long for Six to find his objective, a small building towards the base of the watch tower. Reaching into the bottom of his supply bag on his back, the Spartan pulled out a small round device. Tapping the top of it, the round object came to life with a beep and Six placed it within the guard post.

After he had set the first of many explosives, Six trailed down the ladder of the post. Hopping off the ladder after getting about half way, his feet hitting with a thud. Turning his head to the right, deeper into the outpost he looked towards the building. Staying low and crouched he began to move. Ducking behind others builds when either a set of guards of the light would come across his path.

However he did stop just before he had made it to make a little detour. The fueling area used to refuel their vehicles. Pulling out another explosive he placed one on the fuel tank. Six decided to move on into the building.

Sticking to the wall and moving quickly before coming to a room much like the one in the police station. Two guards stood at the terminal, having their backs to the Spartan. With the door opening with a hiss, the guards turned to see who had joined them.

"Huh? Someone in here?"

"No dude you're just hearing things again."

"Nah, man. I heard the door."

"Then go look fuckbox, I'll be here doing nothing because nothing ever happens."

"Fuck you man. I will go look and when it is something. I hope you get killed first." The guard said walking towards the door. Yet come to no one surprise when he opened it there was no one there. Yet when he turned around, the guard he had been standing with was dead, laying on the ground. "Oh shit! I didn't mean for it to actually happen!" But there was no time to say anything else as a knife was plunged into his neck killing him instantly.

Six stood up and grabbed the knife from the guard. Walking over to the terminal he began to access it. No password this time, well that made his job easier. But he was hoping to try 'password' or maybe 'freelancerrules' but guess his fun would have to wait.

Shifting through the files Six came to exactly what he was hoping to find. A shipping schedule to multiple Freelancer outposts all over the galaxy. Making sure to link his HUD to the database, Six downloaded the files. Storing them away to be looked through later. Closing out the terminal he decide the had found all the needed, the more time he spent here the more likely it was he was going to get caught.

If he got caught and the Director was alerted, the chances of Six finding the Director in a decent amount of time would go down significantly. But seeing how paranoid the Director was to begin with, he doubted he would find him in a timely manner anyway. Not to mention he would find out either way given his mission objective was the destruction of this base.

Pulling out another explosive Six placed it within the room before turning and going to make his way outside. Quickly moving through the halls before going out the door and keeping his back against the outer walls. He had to make his way to a warthog or something, that way he could make his escape quickly.

His eyes would land on his escape vehicle, sitting next to the refueling station he had already rigged to explode. Making his way over to it, the Spartan jumped inside. Turning the engine over with a loud roar as the headlights came on.

Slamming his foot into the ground Six spun the tires around in the snow before the Warthog picked up traction and shot forward. He swerved around guards, maybe hitting a few, before making his approach towards the front entry point. The guards turned towards him and motioned for the front entrance to be blocked off.

Reaching into his bag, Six pulled out his last explosive as he went to fly past one of the guards at the front. Sticking his hand out and placing the explosive to the guards helmet before slamming through the barricades.

"AAAHH! What the hell is this thing!" The guard screamed as Six drove through.

The vehicle jumped into the air slightly after crashing through the barriers. Moving the steering wheel to regain control, Six continued out into the open. In his left hand a detonator to the explosive he had placed. With his thumb coming down on top of the button, not a few moments later he outpost would erupt in flames.

Keeping his head and attention forward as the flames and explosions raged on behind him, Six threw the detonator to the side. Reaching up to his helmet with his free hand and placing two fingers to the side of it.

"Command, this is Six. Objective complete."

Thank you for reading! Review! Peace!

Peace!