Chapter One: Amnesia

~~It starts with the unexpected loss of something dear. The warmth that comforted and cradled you. Just disappears...~~

She didn't know if she was shaking out of fear or cold. The hardened muscles and bones felt like rock ice, but she knew half of her body was burning. The smell of burning copper and flesh was unbearable, the weight of her destroyed armor felt like a useless carcass with her damaged body inside.

Ears buzzing, sight fuzzy, she tried to take in her breath. Her lungs collapsed when the hot burning air filled them, tainting them black on the inside with the smoke and ash floating around.

Her right eye was bleeding; she could feel the hot liquid running across her temple, mixing with the bright crimson red of her dirty and scorched hair.

The floor moved under her body, and the dry dirt creaked under the heavy steps of the titanium boots painted in orange, and his damn face soon was visible on the corner of her left eye. She was almost pleased that his face had been disfigured after Aaron had discovered his treason and punched him almost to death.

"Little dove," He sighed, inhaling a deep breath when the blood sprouted from his nostrils. "I'm really sorry you had to die like this…"

She was not dead. Hadn't he noticed?

If only she could…If only she could move, if only she could reach for her gun and shot him right between the eyes, just as he had killed Steph.

"I'm just making sure you stay right where you are." He said, raising the barrel of the shotgun, "You have a loud mouth, I cannot have that."

The flash of silver threw Pavel to the ground.

Her heart skipped a beat, she couldn't move to see or call out for Aaron. To warn him about the blue and white lights approaching them and the beast charging against them.

The gun was shot. Once, twice, five times and it ran out of bullets.

The loud scream of panic that followed and the sound of the energy sword piercing metal, Kevlar, gel…and flesh chilled her body down to her spine. Or maybe it was just her coming back from the shock.

Adrenaline. Cortisol.

Her survival instincts, her common sense screamed for her to run, run as fast as possible into the bunker, and protect Dr. Halsey. Call for help, get out of the planet. Survive.

Moving her head to the side, she saw their too mangled and bloody bodies in the ground. And her heart ached.

She jumped to stand up, unsheathing the knife, watching the beasts through the broken visor. Two, the one who yielded the sword growled at her, opening its jaws as a threat.

Or a challenge, one she accepted.

She charged against it, ignoring the pain, the trauma, the blindness; delighting herself when the knife broke into the wet scales, making the purple blood sprout, she did it and lost count of how many times had she stabbed the monster in the neck and mouth, burying the knife deep inside its throat.

She shook violently when the burning feeling of the plasma hit her body. Using the dead body of the one she had just killed as a shield, she charged against the other, filled with rage and grief.

The monster kicked her hard, sending her flying away into the mud. The broken glass of her visor flew straight into her face from the impact, feeling how it broke into the right cheek, burying deep into the muscle.

A scream ripped out from her throat, her hand moved down to her hip to reach her pistol and shot a load towards the beast until the shields of its armor vanished with a white glow, she ran towards that thing with the knife. She pierced the armor, hearing the crack of the bones and the fading roar that turned into nothing.

Turning towards his body on the ground, she fell, fidgeting to rip the silver helmet from his head, to see his face.

"No, no…!" She screamed, "You should be alive! What was the point of doing that thing to the armors if you weren't going to use it! You idiot!"

Empty eyes looked back at her, gaping mouth filled with blood, a handsome face filled with bruises and scars. Life had faded from him; life was gone from all the bodies in twenty meters around her.

She screamed, cried and begged for forgiveness while holding his corpse close to her chest until her throat was bleeding until her voice turned into a hoarse and pathetic cry that was no longer there.

The doors opened, the Marines cleared the perimeter from the remaining Covenant. They dragged her inside when she only wanted to be left alone to die from her wounds.

They only let her take his helmet with her.

Recovery had been painful.

Dr. Halsey helped her the first days, and then the UNSC told her she was still complete and had to go back to them to continue her physical and psychological treatment.

They couldn't lose a hyper-lethal vector when there were only two of them. And one was deep into cryogenic sleep and she was going surgery after surgery.

Doctors couldn't do much about her eye, it was lost. Only being just a white socket in her face, they could save her ear and now she had a blind eye and her hearing was partial.

The burn marks were the most painful, but she had not as many as she had expected from such an explosion. Only the area around her right eye looked more damaged; the skin of her arm and leg looked more wrinkled and pink, but nothing too noticeable.

It took her two days to get back on walking, a week to run, and two weeks to get back into her routine.

Training scouting missions, filing reports, take her meds, training, more training.

And the memories came flooding back one time, hitting her like a truck that could actually break her bones a month later.

Migraines, amnesia, dizziness. Sometimes she would just fall into the floor on her knees from the ache on her brain; she would not sleep thinking about the faces she saw in such confusing memories. And the only face she could really remember was Aaron's.

He had such a handsome face, such pretty eyes, and the scars looked so good on him. She wondered why he wasn't by her side in the missions the high-rank officers send her to.

She shook those thoughts off her mind, thinking that Aaron maybe had been promoted and given a Spartan Team of his own.

She didn't wonder how he hadn't taken his helmet with him and why she still had it.

They took her to Reach in December, days after her birthday, days after she asked the medic in charge if she could communicate with her team. The medic only gave her a pitiful look and told her she would be sent away to another planet.

Reach was cold; it made the pain in her legs and arms worse during her solo missions against the Insurrection, but she could only swallow down her pain on meds, the pain of the burn marks, the migraines that the blindness brought her and the pain of forgetfulness.

By July she had already accepted that the memories wouldn't come back to her if she kept forcing them, but it was difficult to wake up every day without remembering your own name.

For the others, she was just: Lieutenant, ma'am, Spartan. For her, she was simply no one, a suit of armor, a living weapon, a wolf that couldn't get back to its pack.

A man gave her a new name. Noble Six, he called her, telling her to pack her gear.

The only things she had were her new armor after the other one had burnt out, but with something pricking at the edge of her broken mind prevented her to bring her helmet with her, and instead she took Aaron's helmet.

Followed her orders and didn't question them. Why should she care now? Why should she ask the questions her kind shouldn't ask?

The road ahead was bumpy, lifting big clouds of grey dust. Her lashes fluttered up when the dirt had dissipated, leaving behind small traces on her cheeks that she cleaned with her gloves.

Setting her gaze down at the helmet resting on her lap, looking at her reflection through the black visor she thought that the marine taking her to the military outpost was a bad driver, she was too since she lost her eye.

She settled the last piece of her armor over her head, watching the two Falcons that followed the Warthog. She blinked, watching her radar lit up into the interface of the helmet, the yellow dots were slowly showing up, and her shields came to life.

The buildings, small and armored with the UNSC's faded logo painted in white appeared in her sight. The Falcons flew ahead of the Warthog to land right in front of the small constructions.

The Warthog stopped, lifting another cloud of dust that got through her with the air.

"Your team should be inside, Spartan." The marine said, hopping out of the vehicle with a jump.

She took a deep breath, and jumped out, taking heavy steps forward towards the building, watching the still moving blades of one of the Falcons and touching the back wing with her flat hand before moving on, encountering the gaze of another Spartan, resting on the passenger cabin while loading his gun.

He shook his head, more to himself and to his thoughts than to her.

It was dark inside, with the only light sources being the light outside coming through the door and the holoscreen in one of the tables, covered by another large Spartan.

The sound of metal against metal made her take a look at another, taking a sharp intake of breath at the skull caved into his helmet, covering his entire visor. He was sharpening his knife against his shoulder piece, staring at her intensely.

She took a step forward, feeling a thud against her chest, looking down at the mechanical arm and to its owner. This woman had eyes of ice that looked deep into her as if she was undressing her down to her soul with just a stare.

She didn't see her; she was on her blind side.

"Commander." Her voice echoed into the room like a rumble of thunder. Another Spartan on her blind side looked at her, and the one by the holoscreen barely turned his attention to her.

She was no one for them.

"So that's our new number six." One thing went through her mind about the Spartan that spoke: he was huge, like two or three heads taller than she was.

The woman finally lowered her arm, leaning against the wall and still looking at her intently.

"Kat, you read her file?" The man with the visor of a skull asked.

"Only the parts that weren't covered in black ink."

She felt watched, she was being watched, not in a good way, she knew that they were scanning her, looking through her like a piece of meat, looking for her weak spots.

The Spartan by the holoscreen spoke, ignoring them completely. "Anyone claim responsibility, sir?"

"ONI thinks it might be the local insurrection. Five months ago, they pulled a similar job on Harmony. Hit a relay to take out our eyes and ears, then stole two freighters from dry-dock. That cannot happen here. Reach is too damn important. I want that relay back online, Noble One."

Her eyes flew to him at the mention of the Insurrection, frowning. Why send her with a new team to fight the rebels when she spent months doing it on her own?

"Sir. Consider it done." His voice was nice, stoic, the voice of a leader born for the role.

The voice that came from the screen dismissed them, and they stood. The larger man taking a big case with him, the other with the skull on his helmet pushed her out of the way, the commander only took his helmet and looked at her without judgment.

She took steps forward as the others walked towards the door, trying to gain the little confidence she still had.

"Lieutenant."

"Commander. Sir." Using her voice hurt too much after months of not being able to speak; of not speaking even if she could. It felt like sandpaper crossing her mouth, it wasn't even her voice, it didn't sound familiar into her ears.

"I'm Carter, Noble Team's leader. That's Kat, Noble Two, Emile and Jorge, Four and Five. You're riding with me, Noble Six." She barely had time to identify them, but she managed when their names popped into her HUD in her visor as well as their yellow marks on her radar.

She moved to the side, letting him guide her outside, following him close behind. The others were taking their places into the Falcons in the meantime.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Lieutenant. You're stepping into some shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled." The commander said, looking back at her briefly.

He jumped into the Falcon, with the other Spartan she first saw awaiting for them, offering her a hand for her to get into and take a seat next to him. She tried to not think of it as an act of pity and more of chivalry and friendly act.

"Me, I'm just happy to have Noble back up to full strength. Just one thing, I've seen your file. Even the parts the ONI censors didn't want me to. I'm glad to have your skill set, but we're a team. That lone wolf stuff stays behind. Clear?"

Something cold ran through her spine, chilling her nerves as she heard that. So he knew about her… medical condition?

He moved his hand, signaling to the pilots to get airborne.

She nodded, not saying any words at all. She did not like the pain when she spoke, she did not like her voice.

"I want to hear it." His voice was a thunder breaking through, even if it was surrounded by calmness. She forced her vocal cords and her own self to speak out.

"I got it, sir." It hurt. The pity hurt, but not as much as the stress of having a lot of eyes on her and the migraine that it brought her.

"Welcome to Reach, Noble Six."

~~...And in its place, there's nothing, just an endless empty hole.~~