"This is the Pillar of Autumn. We're away. The package is delivered." Keyes' voice rang out. Those were the last words he had heard as he watched the ship break atmosphere. He knew this was his end, he knew that as long as the package was secure and the Pillar made it out safely then his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. He walked for a long time, didn't know how long and it didn't matter. Eventually he came across the battlefield, broken and barren from the countless battles that had occurred here.
He managed to get Emile's dog tags and hold them close next to Jorge's, despite being with them for a short amount of time, he found companionship in Noble Team. He enjoyed their company like some of the war orphans during his Spartan training. Despite him being a part of the team during the Fall of Reach, he knew that solitude was always going to be his true companion in the end. It wasn't a stranger to him like some of the others. In fact, he found comfort in solitude. The feeling of isolation calmed him at times and there were moments that brought him back to when he was clearing out insurrectionists by himself.
The smoke in the sky and Banshees that flew across bounced off his visor. He was brought back to reality when he heard a Phantom approaching and snapped into a stance he always had when he was about to get into a firefight. Turning around and spotting a mounted turret, he gripped it and began firing into a nearby Elite that was coming around a truck. Its shields flared up in response to the amount of rounds being firing into it and eventually they fell, soon blood began to fly out from its body and it slumped over dead. Covenant spotted him and began to shout slurs at him while aiming their weapons and firing. Plasma rounds hit him and made him slightly wince at the force but he wouldn't give the bastards the satisfaction.
His vision caught the Phantom soaring overhead and the main gun hone in on him, ripping the turret off its stand, he jumped from the perch as soon as the heavy plasma cannon fired. More rounds from the automated cannon fired after him but he merely avoided them and their area of affect. Once he was sure it was gone, he slightly ducked when a Grunt fired it's plasma pistol at him, widening its eyes when he turned the turret in its direction and fired. It took seven rounds to kill it and he turned the turret to several Covenant, letting the barrel heat up as he fired rounds at them and reduced their bodies to mere piles of steamy flesh. Three Elites started to rush towards him with their plasma rifles and fire at him; he returned it with the remaining rounds of the turret. Two of the Elites fell while the last one rushed towards him as soon as it realized he was out of ammo for the turret. Quickly dropping the gun, he equipped his DMR and fired four rounds at its head, making it recoil.
One more shot and its shields broke with a flash before he put another round into its skull, watching as skull fragments and brain matter splattered against the ground. A couple of Grunts started to flee when they saw one of the stronger members of the Covenant fall under the demon and started to run away. Three shots to their skulls made them drop and he saw that he had seven shots left in the magazine. His shields flared up when plasma slammed into him before turning around and firing into the Jackal that was holding its shield up.
It gave a cry of pain and dropped to its knee when he firing into its hand then firing another round into his skull. He ran into the broken building but not before his helmet cracked when it took a shot of plasma, making him frown. He could tell his HUD was starting to lose some of its features the more his helmet became damaged. He switched his magnum and fired three rounds into a Grunt, ignoring its cries as it died. A plasma grenade stuck to the ground and he could hear it start to explode which forced him dive out of the building. He rolled a few times and came to a crouch, firing the rest of the mag into an Elite before he had to reload.
More Elites, Jackals, and Grunts started to close in on him, making him fire the rest of his magnum into the crowd before it ran low on ammo. He managed to kill the Grunts and a few of the Jackals but the Elites were still a problem. With his magnum had four rounds in it, he switched back to the DMR and fired the rest of the magazine into a few weak Elites and killed them before reloading quickly.
Each shot struck home and at the weakest points of the Covenant. Two shots and another Elite was dead before he turned to the other one, firing several shots and killing it shortly after. A noise over his head made him look up to see a Dropship lowering towards the ground and more troops jumped onto the ground and closed in on him. Five shots into the crowd of Covenant and five Grunts were dead, all with holes in their heads. Elites shouted slurs at him but he paid no mind, it didn't matter in the end because either they would be dead or he would.
Two magazines later and he finally ran out of ammo for his DMR, a second later another crack appeared on his helmet and rendered his HUD practically useless at this point. He didn't care, all he needed was another gun and a breather and he'd be ready to go for another ten rounds. Deep down he knew he wouldn't last another five but he'd make this a fight that they never forgot.
He moved out of the way when an energy sword swung at him and slammed the butt of his rifle into the Elite, making it roar as its shields went down. This bought him a tiny window to go behind it and jump on its back. His hand clasped around one of its mandibles before pulling with all his might. That sickening crack of the neck made him crack a small smirk before he picked up an energy sword and slashed another one that came from behind, making its body fly a few feet. His fist slammed into another one and knocked its shields down and it made the mistake of throwing its arms up in rage. He went behind it and stood on its back before shoving the sword through its heart and ripping it out.
Two Elite rushed after him and he quickly sprinted up the stairs, snagging the armor lock and activating it as soon as a grenade landed next to him. The small fuse on it met his ears and soon after it exploded, knocking a few boxes away. The sprint armor ability merely made him faster at times, it didn't necessarily mean he couldn't sprint like everyone else, it just meant it enhanced it.
Two Elites that entered the building were assaulted with heavy rounds from the sniper rifle he picked up earlier. One of their shields were down and fell when he focused fire on the weakened one. He dove backwards when the second one threw a grenade at him and forced him outside. More Covenant saw him and began to fire at him, four Elites focused fire on him and he managed to kill three of them before he couldn't take it anymore. His weapons were dry and the pain from all the fire was just too much for him to handle, even his helmet felt suffocating.
He threw it off and ignored the plasma shots there fired his way as he spotted an assault rifle on the ground. He picked up the weapon and fired into the Elite. It staggered towards him but soon fell on the ground dead when he pumped enough rounds into it. Footsteps behind him and his instincts told him to slam the butt of his rifle against the assailant's face; the Elite from behind fell and tried to get up had he not fired a magnum round into its skull. He holstered his sidearm but recoiled when plasma rifle rounds were firing into body, making him stumble back and fire his assault rifle into the attacker. Another barrage of plasma made him flinch and reach around his waist with his left hand and pull his side arm out.
One Elite fell from the magnum rounds. Another from the assault rifle that shredded its body. The third rushed up to him and shoved him harshly, throwing him onto the ground and knocking his weapons from his hands. The Ultra jumped onto him but he blocked it with his foot and shoved it away, back onto his broken helmet. A Zealot tried to stab him but missed when he moved out of the way and slammed his fist against it, knocking its sword away. The Ultra tried to pin him down but he slammed his elbow against it, the force of the blow was enough to break its shields and break its neck. He was about to stand up but felt a searing pain in his abdomen.
He shakily looked down to see the energy dagger from the Zealot in his abdomen. It said something to him and he gripped its hand with his before pulling with all his might. The snapping of bone and tearing of flesh met his ears before he let go and saw its hand next to him. He ignored the wails of pain from it and turned his head towards to his left to see the smoke slightly clear up.
His vision slowly started to fade when he saw the battlecruiser overhead. All was quiet except for the winds that were blowing. The burning sensation in his abdomen had long since faded from the intense heat of the plasma. For the first time in the three days he had been in this constant struggle to survive after the Fall of Reach... he smiled. Not because he was dying and was lying in a pile of slain enemies that went into the dozens, possibly hundreds, but because he knew humanity would prevail in the end. He knew that someone down the road would finish the fight, not for him, but for mankind itself. They'd take his and Noble Team's sacrifice and make sure the people of mankind survive the future. His job was done now, he could rest. After all...
There'll be another time...
Six wasn't a stranger to the unknown. He welcomed it at times unlike others who feared it. The first thing he noticed was that it was cold, not like Sword Base on the Babd Catha Ice Shelf but more along the lines of a cold fall morning. The second thing was that he was in the woods, the quiet woods that put him on alert so much that he didn't notice some things at first. His HUD was fixed, he had his DMR and a shotgun on his back, and a TAC pad on his forearm. He set his weapons down and took off his helmet to inspect it. It wasn't his Mark V but a Grenadier helmet with a UA/FC accessories on it. Sniper shoulder armor that held Anti-material rounds. His chest armor was what he had observed as Collar/Breacher variant that held shells for his shotgun. A trauma kit on his leg for utility and a TACPAD on his wrist. Grenadier knee guards and a black visor for a more intimidating look he supposed.
"Odd..." He muttered and put the helmet back on. He recognized the shotgun and it was Emile's, which made him reach around and pull out his dog tags, letting them dangle in his hands. Staring at them for a minute, he sighed then put them back in their place before heading off in a direction. This wasn't Reach. Reach was a scorched planet and a fallen bastion of humanity, he didn't know how he got here to be honest. It confused him and that bothered him. Confusion led to poor decision making, and that led to mistakes that could be made. Mistakes at the wrong time led to one's downfall.
Humming at his thoughts drifting, he kept North for some reason. For all he knew, he could be on a planet taken over by the Covenant so keeping his guard up was his only option. Time passed by and he came across what looked like a village. He went on alert when he heard shouting and quickly hid in one of the bushes and observed from a distance. There were people storming into homes and houses, hauling out valuables and food while some people lied dead on the ground. To his right was a truck that was being loaded with bags and boxes full of supplies. People were being rounded up and either assaulted or killed on the spot.
These weren't insurrectionists, their gear didn't match; some brandished guns while others wielded swords. No, he knew what insurrectionists looked like and operated like and these weren't it, they were too uncoordinated, too arrogant for his taste. Despite them being human, they were threatening innocent people which meant he had all the right to put them in the ground. He's only been here for maybe three hours since he woke up in the woods but he's already seen something that needed to be stopped. There were shouts from the civilians and he silently crept towards the driver of the truck. He had been looking for a word for the attackers and nothing came up other than the term Bandit. These people were nothing but mere bandits like in some of the history books he used to read in his downtime.
He had the element of surprise and he wouldn't compromise his position yet. It took him sticking close to the ground and the driver too busy looking backwards to notice him until he was right next to him. The man didn't even get to utter a single noise before gigantic hands gripped his mouth and the back of his head then twisted. A sickening crack was heard and the body slumped onto the ground with a thump. He grabbed the body and threw it over his shoulder like it was a mere pillow and opened the truck door, throwing the body into the driver's seat and leaning it against the wheel.
He hadn't anticipated the honking and was about to take the body off but a plan formed in his mind. It would draw some of them in the area where he could either eliminate them or slip inside the compound and take them out from the inside, only time would tell. Forcing himself to move back to his spot in the bushes, he went to a prone position and hoped that the brush would provide enough camouflage to hide him. Like he anticipated, some of them came out and investigated the sudden noise, it allowed him enough time to sneak inside without a sound. It was a very long street that had houses on either side, which provided him with a perfect amount of cover.
The bandits were suddenly on alert when they found one of their own dead but Six wasn't paying that much attention to them, he was more focused on the one that was currently bringing a young girl, presumably sixteen, down one of the alleyways. He threw her on the ground and chuckled darkly as he brandished a knife, unaware that Six was approaching from behind without a sound. Her eyes were wide with fear as he brought the knife closer and she flinched when he thrust it down, closing her eyes in anticipation to her death. The blow never came though.
She looked up to see the man gagging while a 6'9 behemoth of a titan had one hand around the offending arm and the other around the man's windpipe. He dug his armored hand into the windpipe and squeezed with an impressive display of force. The sickening sound of flesh being torn resonated through the air, her eyes widened when the titan suddenly ripped the man's throat out like it was wet paper and threw the body away and the throat. She scooted back in fear when the titan looked down on her and knelt to her level, tilting his head.
"Are you injured?" He asked. His tone was cold, calculative, but it held a minuscule amount of worry for her well being.
"N-No. I'm fine... thank you." She gulped.
"I advise you to stay here. I'll handle the threats." He said. She nodded shakily and watched as he equipped his DMR and silently crept through the spaces between houses, never once making a sound. He saw that there were fifteen bandits in total, eleven near the dozen civilians and four alerted ones near the truck at the entrance of the town. He wouldn't really call this town but more along the lines of a village, or a settlement for that matter. His boots barely made a sound as he dashed across the street and aimed down the sights to see one of the bandits hold a gun up to one of the civilians. He hadn't forgotten his training but he would not risk a civilian's death on his watch and honed his sights on the offending bandit, pulling a trigger before they could.
The crack of his DMR rang loudly throughout the air and the round soared quickly before planting itself through the man's skull. His head snapped back as the round went through and splattered brain matter and skull fragments on the ground. He disappeared around the corner of the house as soon as he fired and went behind another house the moment he heard shouting. They knew he was here, he still had the element of surprise but not as much as he would like. He heard shouts of spreading out and slightly beamed. Them spreading out made it easier to take them out one by one. With how disorganized they were, it was no surprise that those three that he killed fell like ants. But he was not one to underestimate an enemy force, he would remain vigilant.
Two went down the alley that he was occupying but didn't see him until they rounded the corner. Before they could fire a shot, he equipped his combat knife and slashed one of their throats before parrying another one that had a sword. She slashed at Six but spat up saliva when he slammed the palm of his hand against her stomach before a quick slash of the knife made her gurgle wetly as blood leaked out profusely. Six watched the bodies lie on the ground for a few seconds before dashing behind the houses, avoiding the field of vision from the ones approaching. He was three houses down when he saw two more bandits spot the recently killed ones then bellow in rage, claiming how they were going to find him and make him suffer.
Twelve of them left.
His instincts blared and he ducked to avoid an axe that would've connected to his neck had he not moved out of the way. He turned around to see a man that was around his height snarl at him before pulling the weapon free. He swung twice but both swipes were dodged with precision. Six blocked an overhead swipe easily then twisted the gun clockwise, making the man lose some of his grip on the splitting tool. He managed to throw the weapon into the dirt before grabbing a punch sent his way then twist the man's wrist painfully. His foot lashed out and kicked his shin before he flipped him over his shoulder with his hand still in his then twisted quickly, breaking the man's wrist and forearm. He screamed painfully before being silenced with a single shot to the forehead, alerting the others to his position.
They knew he was here which meant they were closing in on his position quickly, more than he had anticipated but he adapted. One made the mistake of coming around the corner too quickly and jerked his head back when a single DMR round punched a hole in his head, making him crumble to the ground. He kicked the backdoor of the house down then dove inside when rounds started flying his way. He knew his shields would keep him safe momentarily but his training and instincts kicked in so he couldn't help it. He treated every situation like it was life or death, which is ironic, because this very well could be.
He saw that the kitchen connected to the living room and that connected to the front door. His shotgun was in his hands and his DMR was on his back as he aimed his gun at the backdoor. One of the bandits made the foolish mistake of coming through the door that he kicked down and found a M296 Magnum shell discharged into her torso, which punched a hole the size of a dinner plate into it. Blood and gore splattered against the walls as her body flew out of the entrance.
A grenade was thrown into the house next to him and the fuse was going, making him activate his armor lock and feel the force of the grenade. He didn't know what kind of grenade that was because the area around him cackled with electricity but was quickly snuffed out when the EMP from the armor lock burst out. Shots from the front door splintered the wood and hit him, making his shields flare up in response; the effects were... rather weak. It was like a weaker version of plasma in his opinion. His shields still took a mildly concerning amount of damage but it didn't really make him tense up like he did when Plasma was thrown his way.
He looked at the motion tracker and fired two shells at the door, the sound of two bodies slumping met his ears and gave him some breathing room for a quick second.
Seven hostiles left. Their deaths would be quicker than they could blink or it could be brutal, depending on the situation. The front door to the house was kicked in and he had to duck underneath a set of arms that tried to grasp him. His fist clenched tightly and he uppercutted a massive man that was a few inches taller than him. His foot slammed on the man's shin and a natural force field from him cackled and sputtered before being replaced with the snapping of bone. He fell. Hard enough to shake the ground a bit.
His screaming suddenly stopped when Six jumped up high in the air and crushed the man's skull beneath both his feet. The force of the jump combined with the weight of him and the armor made the skull crush like a grape. Blood flew from the crushed head and splattered against the walls and his armor. The back door exploded with bullets and they impacted his shields a bit, he sighed and slightly winced before rolling out of the front door and into the main street. The civilians saw him aim his gun in their direction and fire half a second later, making them cower down. They screamed when they heard the shots but slowly opened their eyes when they saw neither of those two rounds were meant for them, rather the two bandits that were keeping some of the group hostage.
Four left.
Two bandits came from the house adjacent to him while the other two others followed from his opposite. Their eyes were wide at his size but also the blood that seemed to dribble down his armor. They backed up when his stance shifted and he switched to his shotgun when they surrounded him. All was quiet as the four surrounded him and began to circle him while brandishing different weapons. Everything seemed to slow down as a plan formed in his mind as he assessed the situation.
Four attackers. One has a gun, the two diagonal to him have swords, and the final one seems to have an axe but with a trigger on it? He closed his eyes and let out a few calming breaths before snapping them open when a battle cry was heard. He ducked down quickly to avoid a shot from the gun user before sweeping his leg of one of the sword users. His shotgun was leveled at the ranged attacker and he pulled the trigger, watching the man's body fly through the air then land on one of the stalls, turning it into splinters. The sword attacker beneath him looked up to see the barrel pointing at him before his world went black. The other sword attacker managed to move out of the way from the first shotgun blast at him but a loud crack from his neck was heard when Six slammed the stock of the gun against his throat.
He jumped back when the man with the axe swung downwards at him and twisted out of the way when a shot from the axe came soon after. He dodged several swipes from the weapon then ducked underneath a wide swipe before rushing up to the attacker and equipping his combat knife. There was a loud shattering noise and and the squelching of the knife entering the man's heart rang out. Six twisted the knife a bit and heard the man groan before dragging the knife upwards and watched as a geyser of blood shot out. It sprayed for a few seconds before the body crumbled to the ground.
Everything was quiet as he looked at the carnage he had enacted then his eyes caught sight of the civilians. Some of them flinched when he looked towards them while others seemed to scoot away when he approached them. They closed their eyes when he brought out his combat knife and reached towards them, only to shakily open them when they saw he was cutting their bindings. It barely took any strength to actually cut the rope and it took a few minutes to actually set everyone free but he managed to do it. Once they were all free and hugged one another, they looked at him. There was a sudden tenseness in the air as they stared at the giant black and red death machine that seemed to slaughter an entire bandit tribe easily.
"What's your name?" One of them asked. At first, he was silent but then he realized that they had been waiting for an answer for what he assumed was a few minutes.
"Some people just call me six." He answered. Some people winced at his particularly cold voice.
"That's not a name, it's a number. Are you part of a new Atlas squad or something?" Another one asked.
"Atlas?" He tilted his head.
"Yeah, Atlas, you know the biggest and strongest military in the world? Figured you'd be some new elite force or something with all those gizmos on you." The person pointed towards his armor.
"... No." He answered curtly.
"You a huntsmen or something then?" The same person asked.
"What's that?" He asked. He really didn't know what these people were talking about. Atlas seemed to be a military on this planet but as far as he knew, there wasn't anything stronger than the UNSC, maybe the Covenant but even they were still going to lose to humanity in the end. If there was a strong military than it would've picked up on the UNSC's radar.
"You okay there, buddy?" One asked.
"I'm fine. What is it that you were saying about those Huntsmen?" He asked. Some looked at him weird and he could hear their confused whispers about him not knowing about those two things. He listened to the various people explain about the world to him, from Atlas and their military, to the other kingdoms and their academies. Needless to say, he was extremely confused about the events that had transpired and was slightly distraught when he figured he wasn't in UNSC territory. He was possibly on a lost colony planet or something but even that was a long shot.
He needed to leave.
Staying on this uncharted planet spelled all sorts of problems for him and could eventually lead to his affiliation with the UNSC. If a foreign power even got a hold of Spartan armor then there's no telling what they could do with it, possibly nothing judging by the outfits these people wore. He asked more questions about the planet and soaked up everything he could about it before taking a bit of supplies then leaving. A part of him wanted to stay and help these people rebuild their little settlement but he couldn't trust even one of them to report him to this Atlas if they got the chance.
He didn't know about this world one bit but he would learn quickly like everything else he mastered. If he could then he'd send signals and hope a UNSC ship could pick him up. There must be a reason as to why he's stuck on this rock rather than be in the afterlife or a smoldering, burnt, shriveled up corpse on Reach. If he was alive and fully operational then it meant he could continue to fight.
The most he took from these people was a tattered cloak that covered his body, a map, some food and water to last him a few days, and their thanks for saving them. He didn't need praise for saving innocents, what he needed was to get back to the UNSC so they could get him back in the fight. There was a job to do after all.
.
.
.
He just didn't know how long it'd take before he was found on this uncharted planet.
I really don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing this when I have three stories already. Maybe because I need something else to write about other than those three or that this has been on my mind for the past several months... I don't know. What I do know is that this isn't going to be one of those stories where the Spartan goes to Beacon, makes friends with everyone, tells their life story, and what not. Sure some of those stories are done well but most just make it to the point where I'm like "Okay, Spartans are not that open about their life" but hey... everyone has their own thing.
I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say that all my stories will not die, even if they may seem like it. This story will probably take place around ten or twelve years before canon so if you expected to see a canon right away then sorry. I want to do sort of a build up with Six before I start adding the cast. I'm just doing one chapter for now and I'll see how this turns out. In reality, I'm not expecting too much praise but I'm not expecting a lot of bashing. To be honest, it's more along the lines of if this doesn't do good then it'll just be something used as a filler.
If you've checked out my other stories then you know the rules about reviews but if not, let me educate you.
1. I'm not a fucking top tier author so don't bash on me if something doesn't meet your expectations.
2. Don't review just to blow off steam or start some shit because that just annoys me.
3. If you don't like the story then please just leave. Don't go out of your way to be a dick and write that it sucks because that's just childish and rude. I'm treating you all as respectable people so the least you can do is treat me the same.
I don't have much to say otherwise other than have a good day if you're having one and I'll catch you all on the flip side. Take it easy.