Chapter One: Six Fates Intersect
"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Super Carrier. Seventy six seconds to endpoint."
Jorge tried a few more sequences on the bombs interface before it turned up red again. "Dammit. So it's going to be like that?" He looked over his shoulder at the other Spartan with him. The black clad super soldier was scanning over the carnage in the wake of their fight. Both Covenant and UNSC bodies strewed about the hanger. Out of the chaos of it all they where the only ones left standing.
Turning back to the focus of his frustration giving it a good slap. It gave off a metallic reverberation and rattling of components."Well, I got good news and bad news." He strides towards his partner pointing at the Pelican. "This bird took some fire and her thruster gimbal is toast. Which means the only way off this slag heap is with gravity."
Six looked up at the giant of a partner raising an eyebrow. With sarcasm in his voice he asked "And the good news?"
"That was the good news."
Not soon as those words where spoken the robotic voice of Auntie Dot interrupted. "At current velocity, fifty three seconds to endpoint."
Jorge rolled his eyes at this. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." With both hands he slipped off his helmet before tossing it to the side making it clatter on the alien floor. Six looked at the discarded piece of armor before looking back up. Jorge can see his own reflection off the silver of Six's visor. Scars from years of battle etched his face only for some to be covered by the brown stubble and mustache. His piercing brown eyes looked back at him more then Six's own stare.
"Bad news is, timer's fried. I'm going to have to fire it manually."
Six was taken aback at this. "That's a one way trip."
A smirk crept up on his lips. "We all make it sooner or later. Better get going, Six, They're going to need you down there." Gloved hands reach down his collar and ripped the dog-tags off. "Listen, Reach has been good to me. Time has come to return the favor." Jorge extended his hand out with them dangling.
For a short moment Six looked at them and thought about what the older Spartan was asking of him. A Spartan II was sacrificing themselves so that a Spartan III would go on. In his mind it did not add up. Jorge was a more high valued asset then he was. The UNSC could never be able to replace over three decades of experience, augmentations, and skill unlike those of a Spartan III.
Six was made to be disposable. It was proven to him during Operation: TORPEDO when all those he knew died around him in that suicide blitz. He would have too if ONI hadn't pick him up. Every operation after showed time and time again how disposable they where. Time and time again he saw how valued Spartan II's where. That lesson had been drilled into him by ONI to always protect those high valued assets.
"I'm sorry Jorge, but what you are asking of me I can not allow to happen." Anger crossed over his face, but before he could say anything Six was already behind him. In a quick fluid motion the smaller Spartan scooped up the discarded helmet and shoved it right in his chest. Jorge was taken aback by the force of it actually moving the man back an inch.
"Reach has been good to you. I won't deny you that. What I will deny you of is this." Six walked up to the panel of the bomb placing his hand on it. Thumb rubbed over the manual detonate switch. "You're not made to be disposable Jorge. Not like use Spartan III's." He turned back to Noble Five still staring him down.
The machine voice of Dot echoed in his head. "Fifteen seconds to endpoint."
"It's only right for you to see Reach free again. Now GO!"
Already the Spartan II was out the hanger free falling back to his home. The other stayed behind to do his final duty. The one that he held off for a long time. With a few more presses the LED flashed green signaling the makeshift bomb being fully armed.
With exhaled breath Six called out "Auntie Dot?"
"Yes Noble Six?" The feminine voice spoke softly.
"For what it's been worth the short amount of time we had. It's been an honor."
A short pause was in the air before the Dumb A.I replied back. "Thank you. Vessel is now at endpoint."
And with a flick of a thumb the world went white.
"Can you get that door open any faster Sweetwater!?" Sergeant Sanders cried out. The ODST's shotgun pointed in the other direction of the purple blue hallway. The opposite door already had a hole burning through it by plasma.
Another ODST was working the haptic panel of the door, fingers dancing as he entered in codes. "Give me half a mike!"
The ODST next to him sporting a drum fed grenade launcher looked at him. Fury in her voice "We don't have 30 seconds!"
"Shut up and let him do his fuck'n job Avilés!" Their Second Lieutenant roared. He was on a knee with one hand holding up his MA37, the other clenching the metal backpack of his subordinate. The teams medic was limp, her white helmet lolled from side to side with each slight movement Lt. Hayes made.
Dareion looked away from his scope of his SRS-99-AM. "How's she doing El-Tee?"
Hayes's glanced at his teams bio-metric monitor on his HUD. Slight facial twitches where picked up on the sensors making the short list scrawl. So many red crossed out names of his platoon whizzed by before PFC Ava Robertson's name came up. It was flashing yellow along with showing slowed heart rate.
"Not good, but not bad." Eyes looked over her before stopping at what cause her condition. Where there was knees there weren't any. Replaced by plasma scored stumps no thanks to an Elite Minor's sword. "She needs to get off this Hell Hole."
"We all need to get off this Hell Hole before they detonate that bomb!" The southern voice of the groups Sergeant rang true. It had been one hell of a mess with Operation UPPERCUT. The Savannas complement of ODST where "volunteered" for a boarding action. Hayes' had been reluctant but with Reach and Earth on the line who wouldn't turn down a chance to stick it to the aliens.
Out of the whole platoon that was sent over only he, Sanders, Waters, Robertson, Avilés, and Anderson where left. Stuck between a sealed off blue door and a shit load of angry Covenant. Only way out is some damn miracle. Which happened just as Hayes thought it.
All ODSTs sans Ava was blinded by a flash. Sweetwater fell forward as the door to the hanger shot open. Lungs compressed and blasted out with an "Oof". Everyone else staggered back to their footing as eyes refocused.
Sergeant Sanders shook his head. "Hell was that?"
Hayes lifted Ava onto his shoulders. "Don't know but the doors open. Fall back!"
Before Sweetwater lifted himself off the deck Avilés already had him by his rucksack tossing him over the threshold. "Move your nerdy ass Sweets!"
"Fuck you Carmen!" He hissed back. Scrambling back up and over to the other haptic display. "Everyone out!"
Just as Anderson crossed over the door slammed. Sweetwater worked fast with the alien device. 5 years of toying with this kind of thing along with an extensive tech background made it somewhat of a breeze. Only recently did the Covenant wised up a bit. Once he was sure the door had been sealed he un-holstered his M7S and hosed down the control panel.
"And that should buy us some time to get off." He smirked. Turning back he could see the now dead hanger. Heart sunk low as he passed by body after body towards the Pelican. As he grouped back up with the others he noticed everyone looking at the floor. Raising an eyebrow he called out.
"So what's everyone looking a-" Sweetwater stopped as he finally looked at what everyone else was looking.
There on the deck of the hanger spread eagle was a Spartan. Like them it sported the ODST chest and shoulder pads along with their own oversize metal rucksack. Unlike them he was fully armored in an even darker black with an up armored helmet they never seen.
Sweets eyes soon traced back up to the thing the Spartan was standing from. The slipspace drive of The Savanna welded to their escape bird was humming. A sure sign of it working. Eyes soon bulged out his skull and almost touching his wire rimmed glasses. Head sharply turning to the hangers door.
Out there was a familiar site he always seen whenever he lounged around the view deck of all the ships he's been on. That of slipspace itself. Thoughts racing before it finally struck him and everyone else. The bomb had been set off.
All of them turned to one another in disbelief on what occurred. A pregnant silence was cast over them before finally broken. Someone groaned loud in a voice no one knew. Each one looking around again before it dawned on them. They where not the only ones left alive.
"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Super Carrier. Seventy six seconds to endpoint."
Jorge tried a few more sequences on the bombs interface before it turned up red again. "Dammit. So it's going to be like that?" He looked over his shoulder at the slumped form of a Spartan. Their maroon armor had been covered in the blood of Elites. Plasma scoring had been burned here and there along with a massive gash where the heart was.
Rage seethed all throughout him. In anger he punched the drive giving off a loud reverberation of metal. "Dot, patch me through to Nobel Actual." Static flared in his ear piece before the familiar voice of Nobel Teams leader cleared through.
"Jorge, what's your status?"
The Spartan gave a long sigh before replying. "Bomb secured but the Pelican took some fire, her thruster gimbal is toast. Timer also took damage."
There was a long pause before Carter spoke. "Can it still be set off?"
"Yes. Manual controls still work."
"Did anyone else survive?" Jorge cringed at this. All the others had been killed in the ensuring firefight which left only him.
"Negative. Noble Six... Noble Six didn't make it." He could hear the exhaled sigh on the other end. This was the second team mate they ever lost. Now soon to be the third with him.
"Carter, we all make it sooner or later." There was sorrow in his voice. "Listen, Reach has been good to me. Time has come to return the favor. I need you guys to carry on without us."
"We... We will Jorge. It's been an honor."
With both hands he slipped off his helmet before tossing it to the side making it clatter on the alien floor. He took in a breath of air before it escaped him. Tapping a few more sequences into the pad the LED shone green signaling it to be armed. Thumb hovered over the switch.
"Dot? Can you hear me?" He called out.
The robotic voice of Auntie Dot spoke in his ear piece. "Yes Nobel Five?"
"Tell me when."
"Fifteen seconds to endpoint."
Jorge closed his eyes. Life flashing before him. Memories of life before his training thought lost played. A fathers face much like his own.
"Ten seconds to end point."
All the training. Years of hardships. Of victories and defeats.
"Five seconds to end point."
Finally his mind settled on the view he had of his home. Reach was beautiful up here on an alien ship. As strange as it sounds.
"Vessel is now at endpoint."
And with a flick of a thumb the world went white.
"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Super Carrier. Seventy six seconds to endpoint."
Jorge desperately worked at the bombs interface as sparks flew from it. "No, no, no, no!" He flinched away as electricity arced from the slipspace drive. "Six you need to-" Turning around just in time to be faced to face with another Zealot lunging towards him. Its split jaws wide open as it roared only to be cut short. Blood and brain matter erupted from both sides of its temples in the wake of a thin white contrail line.
The Elites body slammed into the ground where Five just was at. Jorge's enhanced reflexes made his bulk frame able to dodge out of the way. Looking to where the dissipated trail lead to he could see smoke of a rifle rising out of thin air. The cloaking field melted away with a quick press of the left thumb revealing Noble Six.
She got up from her kneeling position and made a quick sprint to the large Spartan. The sensor systems of the GUNGNIR HU/RS picked up the high energy of the makeshift bomb. Six's mind started to race. "We need to drop it and take off!"
"Not possible." Jorge gave off a tone of defeat. "She took some fire and her thruster gimble is toast."
Not soon as those words where spoken the robotic voice of Auntie Dot interrupted. "At current velocity, fifty three seconds to endpoint."
"It's going to go off well before then!" Six could tell they only have a few scant seconds before the drive either goes off or worse. Jorge knew that to and proposed their escape plan.
"We need to jump off. It's the onl-"
He couldn't finish those words as both he and Six where engulfed in a brilliant flash of white.
"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Super Carrier. Seventy six seconds to endpoint."
Six walked up to the slipspace drive and started to punch in sequences into its interface. He was soon met with errors. A quick study showed that a stray plasma bolt fried the timers circuitry. No time for repairs or a quick splice. Six was good with electronics but not that good.
He looked over his shoulders and saw the slumped body of his partner. Jorge took several overloading shots from a few Zealots before taking three needler shots to the face. The cracked orange visor seeped with blood. Six shook his head as he turned back to the bomb.
Manual detonation was the only option for this mission now. Escape was a no go anyways with no one left to do the job. He knew deep down his borrowed time would run out. Today just happened to be that day.
Some good did come out of it for him. Being able to fly The Saber again was a plus. One year of test flights for ONI was just about the only fun he had in his life. Kept the gold visor Pilot helmet as a gift and a reminder of that time.
Auntie Dot soon interrupted his thoughts. "At current velocity, fifty three seconds to endpoint."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Six rolled his eyes. He knew what to do. A quick tap of the interface armed the bomb. Slipspace drive was green with a full charge. It would only take a flick of the thumb to set the whole thing off.
"Dot can you patch me to the rest of Noble?"
The AI chimed back. "I'm sorry Noble Six. They are currently engaging with hostile ground forces."
"Figures." Sighing from that little detail he continued. "Then can you leave a message for them?"
"Of course Noble Six."
"Tell them it has been an honor serving with them. And also..." He thought for a moment. A smile soon spread from his lips. "And also tel Kat thank you. If not for her I wouldn't have been able to fly with the angels again."
A memory was recalled from those words. His father was a Longsword pilot for the UNSC Air Force. He would always tell him that he would "Fly with the angels". Six figured that flying was in both their natures and that angels would always be with them.
"Message has been recorded." The feminine voice said. "Vessel is now at endpoint."
Six took one last breath, closed his eyes, and flicked the switch.
Six could hear the muffled voices in the dark. Mind wracked with confusion as it tried to understand what had happened. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? Each passing second the voices became more and more coherent.
"Sonofabitch set it off!" It was a woman's voice.
"We know that Aviles!" That was an older gentleman.
"Tyson if we don't do something now Ava her' might not make it." Another older man, this time with a southern draw to him.
A younger males voice cut them off. "Guys I think the Spartan's waking up!"
Six cracked open his eyes to see a blur of a face. Details soon came into focus. Dark emerald eyes situated behind round wired rimmed glasses. Soft rounded face covered in black stubble, even darker around the lips and chin. Hair was close to being long by UNSC regulation but short enough to not be a problem.
The HUD soon pinged as Six glanced down at his motion tracker. UNSC IFF registered the man in front of him as CPL E. Waters, call-sign "Sweetwater". Others where soon tagged and marked on the tracker. A Sergeant, Second Lieutenant, and three Private First Classes.
Sweetwater backed off as the Spartan slowly rose up to a siting position. The Mark V [B] UA motioned up and down as Six took a good look at the man before him. At first glance it was a typical ODST before the other details started to trickle in.
This one had green painted on the chest plate with a few decals slapped on. Most of them breaking BDU regulations with their gaudiness. Two hard cases strapped to the abdomen clearly marked as tool cases. A tactical wrist mounted TACPAD much like what Six uses was wired all the way up and to the back. He could guess why as two antennas poked up behind him. 'Probably a special M/LBE Hardcase' Six thought.
His attention soon turned to the other figure that stormed up to him. She was kitted out in the up armored variation of the BDU. A typical set up of a teams demolition/grenadier. Six was right on the money as two bandoleers of grenades where strapped in an "X" shape over her chest. Gloved hands soon reached out yanking Six close to her face.
There was fire in those brown eyes as they stared down on him. Anger etched in the Latina woman's face. Several strands of long black hair draped over as the tie became more and more undone.
"What the fuck where you thinking!?" She cried out. "Did you not think there where other survivors!?"
"Whoa there lil' lady." The southern voice he heard earlier interrupted. "He did his job. We all knew this be a one way trip."
The Grenadier was soon shoved off Six. The man looked down on him, one good eye looked Six over. His complexion had scars all over, one prominently running down his left eye to his square jaw. It was completely missing leaving a hole. Six took in more details, gray crew cut like any of the other Sergeants he met, same gray stubble too. Square nose was crooked from a past injury.
Armor was close to standard with some added features. Much like the others it had a personal touch. Shotgun shells lined a bracer on both arms much like Emile did. More shells where trapped to one side of the blood red chest plate, the other standard pouches weapons specialist use. A prominent skull with two crossed shotguns etched onto the center. Six could easily tell that this Marine was their CQC specialist. The M90A slung over the shoulders proved that.
Henry soon reached a hand out to Six. "Sorry about that sir." The Spartan waved him off as he stood back up. This annoyed the old ODST, and with a grunt he turned to the other team. "Spartan's green El-Tee."
"Well that's one bit of good news." Six turned to the voice right behind him. It was the other commanding officer, IFF tagged him as the second lieutenant. Unlike the others his was more in line with standard equipment. The only thing that set him apart was the command up-link on the side of his helmet and the UNSC seal on the chest.
Lt. Hayes slipped off the helmet holding it to the side. Dark brown eyes set in a chocolate brown face looked up to Six. It was stern and tired from hours if not days of fighting. Much like the others black stubble was all over. Hayes saluted "Second Lieutenant Tyson Hayes 103rd Shock Trooper Battalion Beta-Seven."
Six returned the salute "Spartan B-312 Nobel Team." He looked around "Is this all that's left of your platoon Lieutenant?"
Hayes sighed and shook their head. "Two others survived. Sniper specialist and a Corpsman. Ones critical and it ain't the sniper." Turning to Henry he added "Can you check on how Dareion is doing with Ava?"
The Sergeant gave a grunt of acknowledgment and made his way into the dropship. He turned back to Six. "That bird still able to fly Spartan?"
The Spartan shook his head "Negative sir. Thrusters took damage."
Hayes frowned at that bit of news. "Bomber, Sweetwater!" Both Shocktroopers stood at attention. "Check over this bird and see what sort of damage we are dealing with." They both hopped to it as each ran to opposite sides of the Pelican.
"How much of a charge did the drive have before it was set off?" He asked.
Six looked over to the humming machine thinking for a moment. "Close to a full charge. Without a power supply backing it up we have about seven or eight hours before shutdown."
Placing a hand on his chin tapping it Hayes pondered. "If I take a guess and that white light was you setting it off. Then we got about six or seven hours then."
Six was surprised at that statement. "I've been out for an hour?"
"Yes," Hayes said, "And not in the most dignified position either."
He took a deep breath before continuing. "In that time we locked down the hanger thanks to Sweets there. Don't know for how long seeing as the Covies where burning down a door in one of the hallways leading to here. Scares me that they haven't made any attempt since."
Sweetwater soon called out to them. "Found the problem El-Tee!"
Both Six and Hayes walked up to where the problem was at. The technician pointed up to the burnt impact on the dropship. "Looks like the thruster gimbal melted a bit. Going to have to get up there and see just how bad it is." He turned to Six. "... Mind giving be a boost?"
Bending down and clasping both making a foothold. In swift motion Sweetwater was boosted in the air. Hands finding a hold on the engine intake. Quickly scrambling up and over to where it was hit. After a long while he finally called back down.
"Alright got good news and bad news."
"What's the bad news?" Hayes called back.
Sweetwater looked from his position to the small crowed below raising a brow. "Don't want to hear the good news? Man breaking the tempo here." Hayes crossed his arms all the while giving his Corporal the evil eye. "Alright, alright! Gimbals not that bad, can move again if we could break off the thin melted bit. Just that we need something heavy to knock it off."
"And how heavy of an object do we need?" He asked.
"Something probably in the ballpark of a thousand pounds or more. But don't see anything that heavy we could move."
Everyone stood there thinking before the realization dawned on them. Each ODST's eyes looking up at the walking tank next to them. Six in turn looked at them before sighing.
Jorge let out a long low groan. The surge of the drive knocking him both back and out. Thoughts all in a jumble before organizing themselves again. The first being 'I'm not dead' followed by 'What happened?'.
Memories flooded back of the moments before the world went white. Telling Six to "Make it count" as he dropped the poor woman from the hanger bay. Walking over to the switch and praying that Reach would survive from this one act. And now coming to on the deck of the Covenant ship.
Utter confusion fell on him. The makeshift bomb should have obliterated anything within its influence. At least in theory according to scientist. Instead here he was alive on a ship enveloped in a slipspace bubble going somewhere.
Picking himself and his helmet up placing it back on. Sealing shut and letting the energy shield back up to max. Checked his gun "Etilka" making sure it was fully functional. Satisfied with that he drew up a new plan.
'Ship's still here and fully operational.' He thought. 'Can't take it over since I'm only one man. Best thing to do is put it down for good.'
"Six, Six! Can you hear me Six!"
She could hear a familiar voice in the dark, muffled but there. Light soon shone through her eyes. Finally opening them she was greeted with blue words. "Rebooting..." The screen scrolled with more before the outside world finally came through. Audio cleared as Jorge tried to get her up.
"Six are you alright?"
"Yes," she croaked out. "Systems back online." She looked around and asked "What happened?"
Jorge pulled her up as he explained. "Drive took damage and overloaded. Looked like it set off on its own." It was humming loudly as sparks arced from the main part. "Don't know how long that's going to last."
Six looked out from the hangers shields. Slipspace was moving by them. "How are we still here?" she asked. "We should have been torn apart when it went off."
"In theory." Jorge looked over the Pelican. "Looks like it might still be operational."
She looked over the dropship. Marks and burns covered it melting some plates. "Think it can still enter atmo?"
"If it can't then our armor should help." Jorge turned to see her stare at him intently. "Our armors are rated for reentry."
Six nodded at that. It had been proven the Mark V can do it in tests. But still she had some skepticism. Moving back to where she laid to grab her custom rifle. The barrel of the SRS99-AM was a solid block, an advanced suppressor rated for over 100 missions without replacement. Something she had "procured" from ONI Skunkworks right when her transfer to Noble Team was approved. Locking on the mag plates for ease of transport she turned back to Noble Five.
"Can we drop the drive safely?" she inquired.
"Hm, maybe." He walked over clasping at a release lever built in. With some struggle it budged. However it couldn't move further. Jorge swore before leaving it be. "Plasma must have melted it too."
"Guess it's better that way." She motioned him to follow. "Let's gather what we can and load it onto the ship."
Jorge hefted Six's body onto the Pelican. Gently placing the maroon body into a seat locking it in place with the crash harness. For the past 4 hours he ran through each corridor and the bridge collecting what he could. Ammo, grenades, weapons, and whatever tags he could. Some helmets had M4 field disks and other storage devices.
The cargo hold of the ship had now effectively became a small armory. UNSC equipment secured on one side, the other had Covenant weapons scavenged from their own crates. Having no idea what would happen next it paid to be prepared . The amount of ordinance could very well be used to deny the Covenant any UNSC assets left.
Entering the cockpit he double checked systems. Best exit strategy once the slipspace bubble "burst" was to gun the engines. Thruster gimbal might have been shot to hell leaving maneuvering options extremely limited but wouldn't matter. His best bet was to let it drift with emergency transponder active in hopes of someone picking him up. A long shot at best but he was willing to die in the first place.
Now it was a waiting game.
It had been hours since Six came to. He was surprised that somehow nothing was ripped apart like they said it would. Instead the whole ship plus what was in the immediate area got sucked up into the bubble. To where exactly he had no idea. No destination solution or computer was hooked up for that matter.
The first hour had him knocked out from the surge in energy. Three hours after that was spent gathering what he could from the fallen. Mostly tags and ammo. After that he was left with the grim duty of detonating Jorge's armor. No one wanted the Covenant to get their hands on a Spartans armor or corps. Rumors in ONI stated that they had a bounty within the aliens ranks for any parts to be used as trophies.
Now he was making the slow trek back to the Sabers. Forced to make a few detours due to lock downs on the ship. Six figured that whoever was left onboard wanted to make sure he never get off the ship. That wouldn't stop him from getting back to his bird.
After clearing another hallway with Etilka Six finally found his exit out. An airlock was still active in this sector and was close enough to the Sabers outside. Reaching the haptic controls inside he slammed down on the close button. Doors slamming shut just as a plasma sword ignited. A Spec Op Elite had trailed him.
"Shit." Six smashed the control panel hoping to buy some time. The glass of the door smashed however activating fail-safes. Quickly he drew out a plasma grenade and for a second he was about to lob it through the window. Instead he tossed it to the outer door.
The plasma melted the door leaving it weakened enough for air to seep out. "Not enough!" Two more where chucked at the door and in consecutive detonations the door finally gave. Decompression forced him out of the ship. The jet pack he equipped for this mission activated counteracting the momentum. Just in time before he left the safety of the ships fields.
Twisting his body enough to get in the right direction. Another burst from the pack sent him to the top deck of the corvette. All Saber fighters where there, but there was some unwanted guests. Jackles in EVA gear where already over the ships ripping them apart. Never expecting an assault to occur Six quickly dispatched each one.
Mag boots soon clamped down securing him again to the ship. Looking over each one he cursed at the turn of luck. Most where in the process of deconstruction. A cockpit on one scraped, others with engines in a pile. Out of all of them one looked to be close to operational.
"Well," he sighed out "Time to see if I remember how to fix these."
Sweat was still poring out on Ava's face. Fair skin and freckles glisten. The cloth Dareion was using was already damp from the hours of cleaning. He was trying his best with keeping her alive but the sniper had never trained for this.
"Just our luck that our medic is the one that needs help the most." he softly spoke.
He looked over her again. Both he and Sarge stripped the combat plating off her BDU so that they could put in an I.V. Biofoam and gauze caked and wrapped each ends of the stumps that uses to be her legs. She gave a soft whimper drawing him back to her face. He brushed back red hair from her face.
Rummaging through her pack he found the sedative. Placing the epipen to the neck he was about to inject before a memory struck him. Ava was telling him how much sedative should be applied to a person and that too much could potentially kill the person. Already they applied two or three of the shots in the past 6 hours. He was afraid to apply more in the amount of time.
"Sorry Ava you're going to have to endure for a bit." He slumped down away from her peeling off his helmet. Running one gloved hand over shaved brown scalp before rubbing the back of his neck. In his mind he cursed and blamed himself for letting this happen. The promise of watching her back was shattered by one moment.
Images flashed by. Ava was trying to resuscitate a down Marine. The sites of a scope, another Jackles head ripped apart by an A.P round. Ava was trying to get up and away from an Elite that snuck by. She was on the floor screaming as it raised its sword for another strike. Shields flared. A hole was in its chest. Helmet was torn off. Half its skull hung from shredded skin. Her eyes where white as they rolled back.
Reality snapped back as the Pelican rocked violently. Adrenalin coursed in his veins already. Hand already snatching an M7S from near by. Dareion stormed out the door.
"You sure this is going to work Sweets." Aviles called up.
"It'll work!" He yelled back. Sweetwater turned to Six. "Okay so this might work." The Spartan tilted his head at that statement. Sweetwater rolled his eyes. "Okay will work."
"Now," he continued. "You and that suit weigh in at a thousand and some change. Exactly what we need to loosen up that thruster. However we still need force." He walked over to the edge of the platform and pointed to a spot on the pelican. "Dropping down from here on or around that spot should do the trick."
Six looked over the area. Already he was mentally calculating what he needed to do to achieve this. A quick short sprint combined with the evasion module ONI installed should give him enough momentum. He still wasn't sure how it worked. Only that it was Covenant tech grafted on. Six relied on his already quick reflexes so it was a perfect fit for him. When Kat tooled around the armors systems releasing limiters he became even more of a "speed demon".
"So you good?" Sweets asked.
The Spartan nodded. Walking to the back wall to give enough space. Sweetwater gave him the thumbs up. In a blink Six was in the air making a perfect roll dive towards the dropship. A hard resounding slam rocked the ship. Metal creaked and cracked as the thruster gives out. Intake soon pointed up as Six rolled off the other side.
Aviles had to dive out of the way as the half ton of Spartan slammed onto the deck. They turned back to see the mythic warrior flat on his face. Yet another undignified moment they have seen.
Sweetwater rushed down the ramp of the platform yelling. "Shit you alright Spartan!?"
"Fuck's going on!" cried another.
Six got on his feet in time to see another member of the team. Blue eyes and a silence sub machine gun darted everywhere looking for targets. Clean shaven head was on a swivel. Armor was a special configuration for sniper and marksman. Large metal shoulder plate was used to guard the head sat prominently on his left. Right shoulder would have usually been left open but this one had sniper rounds in stitched on loops. A plastic cat charm hung on one side of his chest plate. It violently swung from his motions.
Aviles got up brushing herself off. "Everything's fine Hawkeye. Just these two dumb-asses fixing the Pelican."
Dareion's gun fell to his side as he let out an aggravated breath. "Damnit guys Ava's onboard."
"We know, we know." Sweetwater tried to calm him down. "Look thruster's fixed now so no more rocking the boat."
He eyed both of them before his attention was placed beyond them. Lights on one of the hanger doors flashed an the familiar chime echoed. Dareion's gun snapped up while Six drew his M6S. Six already had his gun trained on the door before it opened fully.
Tyson and Henry trudged on in each holding one end of a metal case. "Mind giving some old men a hand here?" Henry called out. Tyson glared at him when he spoke those words. The old Sergeant gave a shrug in return.
"49 is not old Sarge." The lieutenant set down his end. "59 is."
Henry just dropped his end leaving whatever was in the case to rattle around. "You would be lucky if you where as spry as I am at this age." he beamed.
The Spartan had already placed his weapon away and started to lift the crate. Both officers looked at him with a face of impression. "Must be nice to have armor like that huh trooper?" Tyson mused. Six only ignored that remark as he made his way to the Pelican.
"Not much of a talker is he?" Henry grunted.
"That all the ammo and weapons sir?" Carmen chimed in.
Tyson shook his head. "Still got one more back there."
"Thought it be a good idea gather'n Covie weapons." Henry said.
"Also extra armor and equipment." Tyson added.
Sweetwater raised his brow at that. "Grave robbing?"
"Necessary given our position Corporal." Their Lieutenant sighed before moving on. "Hey Spartan!" Six snapped to attention. "Got another crate down the way that needs retrieving. Hop to it."
"Yes Sir." He acknowledged. Everyone watched as they sprinted off.
Carmen looked at her superior. "Damn El-Tee. Didn't think these Spartans took orders from us Hell Jumpers."
He waved her off. "Noble Six out ranks me, but after a few words he deferred command to me." Both Sweetwater and Carmen looked at each other in confusion before turning to him for answers. Letting out a sigh he explained "All he said was that his rank of Lieutenant was just an automatic promotion and that he had never once been in command of anything before. Wasn't going to start now nor ever."
"So what he's some solo operator or something?" She asked.
"Maybe," Henry said. "Did catch a glimpse of ONI's seal on that pack of his."
Everything went silent for a moment till Dareion coughed. "I should check on Ava."
"Do that," Tyson said. "And get her secured in a seat. Rest of you pack everything that we can on to that bird." Everyone soon hopped to.
Jorge still didn't know how he had manage to pull it off. Explosions echoed out into the void as he trudged on the outer haul. Ship systems where in critical from all the damage he done. Sabotage here and there and it added up.
Scanning the surroundings he can make out parts of the Long Night above trapped in the same bubble the corvette was in. The bubble itself was looking more and more unstable. He figured that either the drives charge was at its end or that whatever he did to the corvettes drive might be doing this. It didn't matter either way.
Pushing on as some of the haul near him burst out into the void he was able to see the landing area of the Saber team. No enemies could be seen near them. Letting out a breath of relief "Uram köszönöm."
The closes one to him was still intact. Landing gear fully clammped onto the deck with maglocks. Etilka was secured in the back seat while he shimmied into the pilots seat. It was never really made for his large frame as evident in his earlier ride up.
"Alright systems green across the board." Engines sparked to life. Canopy slid into place sealing the cockpit from the vacuum. Life support kicked in but wasn't necessary. The maglocks disengaged from the ship letting it float a bit away.
Jorge looked all around. More explosions erupted from the ship, shrapnel missing by a hairs breath. The bubble was becoming more and more unstable. He took a breath and prayed that wherever he may end up someone would pick him up.
"Slipspace drives about to disengage Six." Jorge sat down in the copilots station looking down on Six. She was quickly doing final checks to systems. Engines whining up, thrusters twisting with each impute. She turned and gave him a thumbs up.
Hands soon gripped handles as he braced for launch. The Pelican shook as it lifted from the deck. Six fought the controls till it smoothed out. Pivoting the ship towards the hangers door they can clearly see the bubble breaking.
"Gun it Six!"
The metal panel was slammed into place as Six b-lined it to the sabers cockpit. As time went on the slipspace bubble became more and more unstable. Forcing the canopy back into place and manually locking it. He prayed that the systems still work.
"Come on baby work." Systems rebooted for what seemed like an eternity. Finally it showed green across the board. "Fuck yeah!"
Landing gear unlocking just as the ship vibrated. Six had to blink several times as the ship all around him started to blur. Thrusters quickly moving out and away from the ship. Looking up what was left of Long Night of Solace soon blinked out of existence. His Saber fighter shook violently now as the bubble finally burst.
Everyone in the hold of the Pelican was nervous. Each one had their helmets on and Ava was back in her BDU. Dareion and Tyson strapped in on both of her sides making sure she doesn't move much. Henry and Carmen where opposite to them. Carmen white knuckling the crash harness as the ship was shaking.
Sweetwater was strapped into the copilots seat checking all systems while Six made final checks with the thrusters. "Slipspace drive discharging rapidly. Bubble can't hold much longer." He yelled. Six gave him a thumbs up as the engines flared.
"Alright everyone hold on to your butts!" Sweetwater called back.
Just as he yelled that the ship was tossed up. Six pulled back on the stick and slammed the throttle. The Pelican shot out of the hanger uncontrollably. Both Carmen and Sweetwater screamed while the rest swear.
The Spartan focused more as he drowned out everything else. It was a battle for control as they continue to tumble into the void. Stars whizzed by, then the corvette, then something he did not expect. A planet and moon came into view. It was extremely close as its body took a while before disappearing from the spin.
Thrusters flared more as the Pelican corrected itself. Sweetwater gasped for air. "Son...S-sonofabitch."
He looked down at Six. "Good thing you know how to handle a dropship."
His eyes soon turned towards the ship that they came from. Till this day he still didn't fully understand what had happened. The Corvette was warped, bubbling, and exploding. It was as if it melted into other ships of its type. Other objects where flying away from it. Warning lights soon grabbed his attention.
"Shit! Radiation spike!" Sweetwater hit a few commands. "Looks like another Slipspace rupture!"
Another flash of light soon flooded into the cockpit, enough to shine into the bay. He held his breath and covered himself with his arms. Fear ran through him for what seemed like a lifetime before he finally lowered them.
"You alright?" Six asked.
Sweetwater took a long and deep breath. "Yeah. Thought we got caught again."
Tyson yelled out to them. "What the hell happened!?"
"No fuck'n clue El-Tee." He looked back at his console. "Picking up two gravity wells and..." He paused. "Can't be right." Six looked over where the Corvette was. In its place was smoke and a few floating objects. "Getting UNSC transponders!"
Tyson made his way up to the cockpit. "Where from?"
The Spartan pointed at each object. "I see two other Pelicans and two of the Sabers."
"Bravo 029 and Echo 4's are active but..." He looked at the screen again. "I'm picking up two of the same transponders. Both NOBLE 48."
"Sir," Six piped up. "We are NOBLE 48."
The officer looked at both of them before looking out. "Any comms chatter?"
"Checking... there!" The radio soon crackled to life. A deep voice was talking.
"This is Noble Five to any and all UNSC forces please respond."
Six quickly opened the comms "This is Noble Six on Pelican designation NOBLE 48. Jorge is that you?"
An air of static hung all over the three before it broke. "Who is this?" the voice demanded.
Jorge and Six looked at each other as the conversation played out on the open channel. He slid off his helmet, a look of confusion was set in.
"Did I just hear myself?" He asked.
"If I know any better I think I hear you too." She replied.
"I do not know who you are but you are not Noble Six." The voice was hostile.
They glanced out as one of the Sabers moved closer. The other started to follow suit. Six turned the ship around to see two other Pelicans with a green blue planet in the back drop.
Another male voice soon cut in. "This is Echo 4 last I checked I'm Noble Six."
"What?" the other voice called out.
"And who are you?" The same voice called out.
There was another long silence. Jorge looked at Six again. "Was, was that the same voice?"
"This is Noble Five of Pelican NOBLE 48 I need you to identify yourself!"
An even longer pause lingered in the airwaves. Both occupants where dumbstruck as a thought crept in. Jorge soon pressed the comms button.
"How many Noble Fives are there?" He asked.
Silence fell.
"What. The. Fuck." Sweetwater whispered. He looked at Six who just stared out the window.
"Sweetwater?" Tyson asked. "What exactly is happening here?"
Sweetwater thought long and hard. Mind bounced a few ideas, all fantastical and out of every sci-fi and fantasy book/manga/show he ever watched. Thoughts drifted to theories on Slipspace he had in college. 11th dimension, flt travel, multiple worlds theory. Finally he spoke.
"I need to ask them something." He opened up their comms. "This is Lance Corporal Ethan Waters 103rd Shock Troopers Battalion Beta-Seven of Pelican designated NOBEL 48. Saber Bravo 029 I need your full I.D."
There was a short pause before he answered. "Chief Warrant Officer Jorge-052 of Noble Team call-sign Noble Five."
"Alright Saber Echo 4 state your full I.D."
"Lieutenant Spartan-B312 of Noble Team call-sign Noble Six."
Tyson could have sworn that the Spartan in front of him went more ridged. More voices tried to say something before Sweetwater cut them off.
"Alright NOBLE 48 off and near Echo 4 state your I.D."
A woman's voice soon spoke. "Lieutenant Spartan-B312 of Noble Team call-sign Noble Six. I am with another survivor."
The same voice as Saber Bravo spoke albeit a little shaky. "Chief Warrant Officer Jorge-052 of Noble Team call-sign Noble Five."
Sweetwater nodded. "Good, good. NOBLE 48 right in front do the same."
"Chief Warrant Officer Jorge-052 of Noble Team call-sign Noble Five. I have..." he paused for a bit. "I have the recovered body of Spartan-B312."
An uncomfortable silence fell as both ODST's face went grim. Tyson soon took over comms. "I'm sorry to here that."
Echo 4 spoke up. "So who exactly are you?"
"Second Lieutenant Tyson Hayes of Beta-Seven onboard NOBLE 48. We have seven survivors including a Lieutenant B312." He waited for anyone else to reply.
"So got any theories on what the hell is going on Sweets?" He tuned to his Corporal.
He slid off his helmet, push up his glasses and pinched his nose. "I do but you might laugh my ass off for it."
"Try me." he shot back.
Sweetwater sat back and took another deep breath. "Okay so basic principle of Slipspace is punching a hole in the fabric of reality to enter into the 11th dimension. Using coordinate input from point A to point B we are able to travel at FTL by riding the "Strings" of Slipspace." He looked at Tyson to see if he was following. He nodded and motioned him to move on.
"Knowing that what happens when you do not have a destination solution?" Tyson shook his head and shrugged. "Me neither. We all assumed that we either blindly end up somewhere or into oblivion. However there might be a third alternative."
"Meaning?"
"There are sci-fi stories where FTL accidents or teleportation or really any time fuckery happens and people end up in another dimension." Sweetwater looked at his commanding officer. "That's the third alternative."
"So what you are saying," He glanced back at the other ships. "That we ended up somewhere that isn't our own dimension?" He waved at the other ships. "And that right now we are facing other people from other alternative dimensions?"
The Corporal shrugged. "That or we just went insane."
He sighed and thought for a moment. "Well so far we have three people claiming to be this "Jorge" and two others claiming to be "Six". What do you think?" He turned to the Spartan.
Six in all honesty didn't know what to think. He was educated by ONI in the same theories and the Corporal did make a sound claim. There was only one way to find out and straighten out this whole thing. He opened up the comms again.
"This is Spartan Wolf-B312 to all UNSC ship." He thought for a moment for the right words. "We will not get anywhere with arguing over the radio. Currently we have a critically wounded marine. I suggest we head planet side and figure out what to do. How copy?"
Everyone in the cockpit waited with batted breath.
"This is Spartan Leon-B312 I copy."
"This is Bravo 029 I copy."
"This is Spartan Hiroto-B312 I copy."
"This is NOBLE 48 I copy. Lead the way."
"Sir I do not know what that radiation spike was but it was massive."
"What sort of radiation?"
"Hawking radiation. Our early warning systems picked up two spikes happening in the span of one minute."
"Where at?"
"Between here and the moon. Practically right on top of us."
"How long ago was this?"
"Thirty minutes."
"Anything else after?"
"Nothing Sir...Wait getting something else."
"What?"
"Four objects entering planet. Large objects."
"Are they ships?"
"Looks like it sir. About the size of dropships."
"You don't think it's Batarian Raiders?"
"Sir unknown but this fits a scouting parties MO."
"Shit. Get on the horn with Alliance Command. Tell them possible imminent attack on Eden Prime. Also alert the Two Twelve for mobilization. I want eyes on that scouting party."
"Yes Sir!"