A/N: So I've been redoing a lot of Agent Reach's earlier chapters to make them better. Let's be honest, a lot of my early shit was terrible. I aim to fix a lot of that.
*Chapter 1*
Noble Six leapt down from the MAC gun, watching as the Pillar of Autumn rocketed away from Reach. The planet was in ruins, and it was only a matter of time before he too ended up dead. He stared at the flaming sky, DMR in hand. 'I guess this is the beginning of the end. Never did think I'd end up stranded on Reach
One would think that Six would never get out of this mess. With the amount of Covenant still in the area, his chance of surviving was probably negative at this point.
He slowly walked over to Emile's corpse, propped up against the railing with his kukri still in his hand. He had died fighting, and the body of the Zealot Elite next to him was his final act as a Spartan.
Six took Emile's kukri, along with the sheath. He tapped the tip of the blade against his finger to see it was just as sharp as ever, though coated with the Zealot's blood. 'Emile, rest easy my friend. I'll make sure that you are avenged.' He got ready to stand against the Covenant onslaught.
He leapt from the platform, the bodies of fallen Spartans and Marines all around him. He spied a sniper rifle along with a Drop Shield, and ran for it. He picked up the long-range weapon, looking through the scope as a Spirit flew overhead, the plasma cannon shooting in his direction.
Six activated his Drop shield, the bubble of energy surrounding the Spartan. The plasma blasts deflected harmlessly off of the shield, protecting the Spartan from harm. Well, temporarily at least.
After maybe thirty seconds, the shield gave way, needing awhile to recharge. A pair of Grunts fired their plasma pistols at the Spartan, his shields flickering. Six didn't have time to zoom in the sights, so he just fired from the hip. Both of the aliens fell from his precise shots.
With both Grunts dead, Six had to duck as an angry Elite charged him with an energy sword, the plasma blade narrowly missing his head. 'Too close for comfort.
Six readied Emile's kukri, ready to get up close and personal with a Sangheili. As this Elite was a blue Minor, it had very little experience on the field. Six was planning on using its inexperience against it.
The Elite swung the sword again, and Six ducked under it, sinking his kukri through the Elite's stomach. As the alien warrior howled in pain, Six climbed on its back and snapped its neck.
Six retrieved his kukri, ready to face the rest of the Elites when a blue ball of plasma landed not ten feet away from him. He rolled away, cursing under his breath as his shields flared brightly.
Pulling out his sniper rifle, he saw a Wraith about 100 feet away, and the driver had some pretty good aim. It had to be at least an officer; the Covenant were pretty consistent in not letting inexperienced Elites man their vehicles apart from Ghosts or Banshees.
Spotting a fallen spartan laser near a dead Marine, Six grabbed the heavy weapon. He locked onto the Wraith, and began to charge the weapon. A red burst of energy shot out, and the alien tank was a smoldering ruin.
Plasma rifle fire washed over Six's shields, and he whirled around to see an Elite Ultra had joined the firefight, its eyes filled with hatred. "Demon!"
Six charged the weapon and a single shot blasted the Elite's arm off. As the alien warrior howled in pain and agony, Six placed a well aimed magnum shot through its head.
The spartan laser had maybe only one more shot left in it, and Six knew he had to be careful with it. 'I gotta save this for the right target…that Wraith on the other side will do.'
The Wraith couldn't see him, and Six used that to his advantage. The Spartan Laser flashed, and the remaining Wraith was destroyed. Six dropped the heavy weapon, now useless, and concentrated his fire on the Elites around him.
Two Elite Majors aimed concussion rifles at the lone Spartan III and fired, small explosions dotting the area. The two aliens had terrible aim, and most of the shots missed completely. Six took cover behind a wall, grabbing a fallen assault rifle and ammo from a dead Spartan. He couldn't bring himself to look at his fallen brother, not without feeling the rage inside him build. He was a Spartan; he had to keep his head in the cool no matter how bleak it seemed.
One of the Elites charged at him, and Six emptied his assault rifle into the alien's torso, shredding it in two. Six was tempted to take his helmet off and spit on the corpse, but that required too much effort. And he simply didn't have the time, either.
The other Elite let out an angry roar, and it dropped the concussion rifle to ignite its energy sword, the plasma blade coming to life in its hands. Six backpedaled to buy himself some precious seconds. 'This really isn't my day, is it?'
The Elite swung its sword at the Spartan, forcing Six to leap back, as getting cut in two and being eaten (or glassed) was not on his to-do list. Well, at least not now, anyway.
The Elite was upon him in a heartbeat, and its fist made a crack on Six's visor. The Spartan groaned. "Son of a bitch." Part of his HUD, the part that displayed his ammo count, was down. No possibility of repair. For the moment at least.
He tackled the Elite, taking the warrior by surprise and he sank his knife in-between the alien's four-pronged mouth. Stifled cries of death escaped it before it fell limp. Six pulled his knife out, the blade covered in purple blood. 'Ugly bastards. No matter how many times you kill them, they never seem to get any prettier.'
An Elite Major fired a needle rifle at him, and one of the needles stuck in his visor, creating another crack. Six pulled it out before it could explode, and then he sprayed the Elite with assault rifle fire. 'Damn. This is starting to get ugly. Helmet's busted, too.'
Six took off his battered helmet, revealing a man with several scars and icy calm brown eyes. An Elite Ultra fired its plasma rifle at him and Six returned the gesture, firing his assault rifle until the Elite's shields broke and it fell to the ground in a puddle of its own blood.
'I'm not gonna last too long,' Six thought. He stepped to the side as an Elite Major tried to jump him. The shields of that warrior broke, and Six raised his magnum before firing a single shot into its head. 'Pathetic. I thought these bastards were supposed to be the Covenant's best warriors. They're not impressing me.'
He snapped to the left as an Elite Minor shot at him, his assault rifle in his hands. He drew his magnum as another Elite Minor charged him, plasma rifle fire pouring on his body. Spent shell casings fell on the ground, along with Six's blood. 'Yeah, I'll admit it. I didn't really have a plan apart from, 'Try not to die'. Great planning on my part.'
An Elite Ultra jumped him, throwing the Spartan to the ground. Six tried to recover, sticking his knife in the alien's neck. He pushed the body over as a Zealot ignited its energy sword. Before it could stab him though, Six punched out and broke the Zealot's hand, the energy sword falling on the ground.
An explosion of pain surged through him as an Elite Field Marshall stabbed him in the stomach. The alien lifted Six's wounded body, roaring. "You have fought honorably, demon. But this is where it ends for you. May the blades of light guide your way."
Six struggled to break free, only to feel the Field Marshall's plasma dagger sink into his chest. Six's eyes bulged slightly as the blade of plasma twisted before his vision began to fade black.
Six thought about all the lives lost in this day alone. Carter, Emile, and now him. Six then felt himself being tossed to the side, the Elite having no use for his body. Noble Six, the only Spartan III to ever reach the rating of 'hyper-lethal' was dying, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. He hated it. He hated that he was lying on the dirt with blood pouring from his various wounds helplessly. He struggled to roll over onto his stomach and he was unable to stand.
Before the defiant light faded from his eyes, Six glanced over to the Field Marshall that had performed the fatal blow. He could only feel regret. Regret that he couldn't live to keep fighting the Covenant back, that he couldn't do more. 'I just wish I had another chance…'
Mother of Invention
Date unknown
Tex tossed North to the side easily, the other agent falling to the ground in a heap. South tried to rush the gunmetal black Freelancer, but Tex spun around and hit her in the back of her head, knocking her out. Tex narrowed her eyes. There was only one Freelancer left standing: Carolina.
The red haired Freelancer got ready. "This is where I take my spot on the leader board back, Texas."
Tex dismissed her comment and got ready to fight her. "Anytime, Carolina." Woman was too damn cocky for her own good.
Even though this was only a training match, both Freelancers were expected to do better than the other. Carolina was bitter about losing her number 1 spot, and she practiced nonstop in an attempt to beat Tex.
If only they knew how cold you would have to be in order to do that.
Tex blocked a punch from Carolina, spinning her around and delivering a sharp kick to the gut. Carolina flinched slightly, and Tex was upon her in an instant, her fists a blur of motion. Carolina pushed the black armored Freelancer off of her before punching her in the head.
A dull ache began to pulse in Tex's head, but she didn't care. She had long ago learned to banish pain.
Carolina and Tex were both about to hit each other again when a flash of light blinded both of them. Carolina shielded her eyes. "What the hell is that!?"
"Don't ask me!" Tex shot back, just as confused as her. When the light died away, in the middle of the training room was a figure clad in red and black armor, with blood pouring from wounds. Tex looked at the man in shock. "Get the Director! And a medic!"
The Director strode onto the court, and he looked at the armored man with an interested look. The medic put him on a stretcher and carried him away in a hurry, blood dripping in a crimson trail behind him. Tex walked to the Director's side. "Who is that?"
The Director shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no answer, Agent Texas. All I know is that he's here, onboard our ship."
Tex stared at him. "What do you mean? I don't understand at all."
The Director shook his hand dismissively. "Don't worry; I have an idea on how to use him, if he survives. The match is cancelled."
Carolina seemed outraged. "Sir, you can't—"
The Director turned on her in a flash. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Agent Carolina! Keep it up and you will lose your number 2 position on the leader board! Do I make myself clear?"
Carolina's face was flushed red. "Sir. Yes sir." She sent a glare at Tex, who simply smirked in amusement. Seeing Carolina worked up was always very funny to her.
The Director cooled down, motioning for Tex to follow him. "Come. We have to check in on our new arrival."
Six blinked his eyes open, and then immediately protected them from the bright light. 'Why am I here? Shouldn't I be dead? what is this place?'
He tried to sit up, only for a hand to ease him back down. "Steady big guy. You've lost a lot of blood, and I don't want to re-open any wounds."
He groggily turned to his right, and there was a medic standing by him, his eyes tired. The medic looked at the Spartan. "You awake now?"
Six ignored the man and sat up anyway, glancing around rapidly to take in his surroundings. "What is this place?" 'I remember dying on Reach. Why am I not turned to glass? Where am I? Did ONI send in a team to recover me?'
The medic looked at him in a funny way. "You are onboard the UNSC Mother of Invention, home to Pr-" He stopped, as if he wasn't supposed to say anything.
"It's alright medic. I'm here," an authoritative voice said. A man in a dark suit with glasses entered, followed by a person in what seemed to be MJOLNIR armor.
Six's eyes narrowed. This was obviously a UNSC ship, but the secrecy of it screamed 'ONI'. Something here wasn't right.
The man smiled. "I am Dr. Leonard Church, Director of Project Freelancer. And this is Agent Texas, our best agent."
Six raised an eyebrow. "Right…" To say he was bit skeptical was an understatement.
The Director sighed. "I knew you wouldn't believe a complete stranger. And you are…?"
The Spartan hesitated. No one who was alive still called him by his real name. so, he went with his number.
"Noble Six," he answered.
The Director seemed to be mulling over something. "Hmmm, interesting." He shared a glance with Texas before turning back to the Spartan. "Son, you are a capable fighter, even though I have no records of you at all in my database. Still, I'm willing to gamble that chance and make you an offer. Are you interested?"
Six frowned, but if there was a chance for him to get some answers, he was going to take it. He needed to figure out where the hell he ended up and why he wasn't dead. "I'm listening."
The Director gave Texas a small smile before he faced the wounded Spartan.
A/N: Edited and proofreading all this shit is gonna suck. But hey, it gives me a reason to delay the story a bit XD