Disclamer: I don't own Halo. So please don't sue me Microsoft.

A/N: Read and review please. All comments except for insults accepted. I really want some feedback on this, as it is my first fanfic.

1300 hr November 20, 2552 (Military Calender) /Siberian Nuclear Enrichment Facility, Earth

I have no name. I was simply called "Boy" at the orphanage in a place that I do not know was called. Then, after Lt. Cmdr. Ambrose found me, I was called S - B312. The others called me the Lone Wolf. These things are not my name. The closest I have to a name is Six. It was given to me by my only and first team. I like it. It has no deep meaning, no parental influence, no rigid formality. It is a discription. The sixth man of a team. Well, whats left of a team anyway. Jun is standing next to me. He is Three. We are the only ones left of our short lived team.

"What is it?" I ask, glaring out into the distance, observing marines setting up a close perimeter. Not that it will do them any good against the Covenant.

"Command wants us to set up in a sniper position near the facility." Jun responds.

"Wouldn't an anti-armor position be better? After all, they won't send in anything more than cannon fodder and some skirmishers until that Scarab gets closer," I say, pointing to a speck out in the distance.

Jun shakes his head. "The ODST's will take care of the Scarab before it gets too near. Plus, we won't be doing anti-armor" Jun pointed to the marines and another squad of ODST's in cold weather gear, setting up minefields and machine gun nests, "They are."

Shit. I had hoped to be able to blast one of the Wraiths to a smoking husk. Its great stress relief, and I don't like hights much. Free falling from low orbit does that to a person. I'd rather fight a Hunter barehanded than have that happen again.

"Alright then. Whatever command says, I think this is a bad idea"

Jun shrugged. "What we think doesn't matter. We're just hear to keep the refinery safe."

5 hours later

I hate waiting. My style is more "Kick in the door and kill every one in the room holding a gun." My knife is in one hand, the other balancing my shiny new Mark VI helmet on my lap. Slowly and carefuly, I etch out the last tooth below the face plate, and take a look at my handywork. A shark tooth design, similar to what some Pelican and Sabre pilots have painted on thier aircraft, minus the eyes, rings the bottom of my helmet. Grinning like a maniac, I slip my helmet on, and walk back over to where Jun is.

Jun, not takeing his eyes away from his scope, picks up a pair of binoculars and tosses them to me.

"Take a look. The ODST's are beginning there attack on that Scarab."

I do. The ODST's had spent several hours seting up LOTUS Anti-tank mines, incendiary charges and C12 under the snow in the path of the Scarab. As the Scarab approched the trap, I saw a ODST press the button on a remote detonator. FOOOOM! A giant fire ball explodes just to the sides of the Scarab, engulfing the poor dumb bastards inside of the giant walker in a deadly inferno. Screaming balls of fire jump off the Scarab, hoping to exstinguish the flames in the snow, but find out, to late, that good ol' Whiley Pete can't be put out that easily. BOOOM! The Scarab entered the minefield, where the ODST's had been setting up half a ton of C12 over the mines, and had both of its front legs blown off, and collapsed, coolant and orange fluid spewing from the now destroyed limbs, staining the fresh snow. An ODST ran up and threw in a sachel charge into the now smoking hull of the Scarab, and... nothing happened. Still, one hell of a fireworks display.

"Damn." Jun says, obviously impressed by the pyrotecnic display we just saw. Machine gun and rocket launcher fire bursts out below us as the marines and ODST's below us engage the rest of the Covenant assult force that was approching the facility. CRACK! Jun takes the head off of a Wraith gunner. I unsling my rifle. CRACK! A Brute is shocked to discover that he lacks a chest. CRACK! Jun shoots through the canopy of a Wraith, killing the driver and disabling the tank. CRACK! A Jackel finds itself without a face. CRACK! Jun turns the head of a Brute Chieftan into something resembleing spagetti sauce. CRACK! A Grunt turns to an iridesent blue mist and flying limbs. CRACK! Jun takes down a Banshee attempting to straif the marines. CRACK! A Brute finds that his head now has two extra holes in it. Jun reloads. I just put the rifle down, grab my new MA5B and sling a shotgun onto my back.

"I'm going down there. I'll be able to provide more support down there than up here."

Jun doesn't respond with words, but just gives a thumbs up.

I jump down off of the roof of the building and hit the ground, three stories below. Oh ground, how I have missed you. Five ODST troopers are hunkered behind a wall of sandbags, excanging fire with a Brute pack. I take aim at the nearest Brute, and put three bursts into his chest. The first burst takes down his armor. The second burst just made him mad. The third turns his chest into mashed potatos. The rest of the apes turn in my direction to fire at me thier new attacker, an advantage the troopers exploit. One pops two Brutes in the head with a sniper rifle, painting the fresh snow red with blood. Three of them empty full SMG magazines into a single Brute, tearing its armor to shreads and riddling his body with holes. The last trooper unloads on the last Brute's legs with an assult rifle, and as it howls in pain clutching its leg, walks up, kicks it between the legs, and empties his weapon into the Brutes face at point blank range. Ouch.

I moved on to the trenches, where a torrent of Grunts and Jackels are assulting the marines there. I sling the MA5B onto my back and unsling the shotgun. Time for some fun. I chuck several grenades into the place where the Grunts are thickest. Unfortunatly, while I am doing this, a Ghost pilot decides that I would make a good hood orniment, and tries to ram me. CRACK! The driver is cut in half by Jun's bullet and the Ghost goes flying into a snowdrift. I sneak up behind a Grunt and tap him on the sholder. He turns, looks up at me, then at my helmet, freezes, and falls into the snow, dead from a heart attack. Apparently my new accessory can kill with a look. I continue on towards the mass of Grunts, still confused and disoriented from my grenades. Me and my shotgun end that confusion for the rest of them. As I finish mopping them up, I notice that the Covenant are retreating. Right past the disabled Scarab. One of the ODST's shouts "FIRE IN THE HOLE" and I see him press down the plunger of a remote detonator that he had taken off of his back. A tiny nuclear fireball engulfs the retreating Covenant. Fuck yeah.

Two hours later

I had only been drunk once before in my life. During the Sabre program, one of the pilots threw a party, and invited everyone. I regrettably got cajoled into a keg stand and a couple shots by the other pilots, and ended up accidentally breaking a piece of furniture, after which I was asked to leave. This time, luckily, was different. One of the scientists at the facility had constructed a still to make vodka in the supply closet a few years back, and now the marines and everyone else who had survived the battle were getting drunk on the poor quality, highly alcoholic beverage that he was selling to them. Gunnery Sergent Edward Buck had said on Reach he owed me a beer. He was definitly paying me and Jun back, and with interest. Jun ,who had already downed five shots of the swill, was in a corner, utterly perplexed by the young female scientist trying to seduce him. Poor bastard. He was one of the unlucky S-III's, as he had, along with the rest of the alphas been given a thyroid implant, which effectivly shut down his sex drive.

I had already downed a shot or two, our six, that Buck had payed for and was sitting with him and his squad. "Thish ish guy saved my life on Reach" he slurred out to the two members of his squad that were with him, Mickey, who didn't like vodka much, shame on him, and Josh, who had downed three shots of the stuff and looked close to passing out. Lightweight. Of the other two, a burly man called Dutch hadn't came to the party, and the other Romeo, had apparently slipped off with a female researcher to "get to know her better". "Buck, we get it." Mickey said, slurring slightly. "This guy saved your ass, and your paying him back, we get it."

"You'd damn well better" Buck said, and passed out, landing face first on the table.

Mickey sighed. "I'll bring him to his bunk," he said, slinging Buck's arm over his neck.

"Man, I got to introduce you to my sister." Josh slurred. "You'd like her. She's cute, and would probably go for a, for a," he forced out, searching for a word, "dude, thats the word, dude like you."

"What a nice guy. I save him once, and he's willing to set up his sister with me." was my last coherent thought before I passed out.

A/N: Well, that wraps it up. As always read and review, and if you have any questions message me.