The monotonous tone of the electrical systems providing light and warmth to the small cell was the only sound audible in the entire room. The holding cell, only encompassing the area of a large kitchen, provided to leave the massive, one ton Spartan with little space to spare. The room, a miniature bulkhead composed of grayish-silver reinforced titanium alloys, was designed to withstand super heated Covenant anti-matter charges. A low grade energy shield generator constantly emitted an invisible wall that lined all sides of the bulkhead. The doors were created with hyper rigid carbon fiber elements, giving them near the same strength against sheer brute force as diamonds. There were no windows installed in the prison cell, as any compromise in the hull of the bulkhead would lead to severe detriments in the facility's total integrity. As substitution, four nano fiber, high resolution security cameras were implanted in unsuspecting areas of the prison cell. Additionally, a small compartment containing 3 liters of concentrated neurotoxin hidden in a reinforced section of the bulkhead had the capability of releasing its lethal contents into the interior of the bulkhead, abruptly ending the life of whatever antagonized creature lay inside.
All of these security features did little to ease the nerves of the two Marine escorts on either side of the reinforced doorway, their fists remaining clenched tight to their Assault Rifles. As with most mysterious things, Spartans created an aura of awe and fear, inspiring many urban legends within the Corps. One such story retold an encounter a rather gruff sergeant had with a Spartan only known by those superstitious Marines as Shadow-131. While engaged in large skirmish with Covenant forces on Onyx, a rather rude staff sergeant insulted the unknown Spartan's battle tactics quite directly. That night, while on patrol, an unsuspecting private located a disembodied foot atop a scraggly tree. When attempting to report this egregious finding to the staff sergeant, the Marines of that platoon were shocked to discover that the sergeant had gone completely missing. DNA testing was unable to determine the identity of the lonesome foot. When interviewed about the crime, Shadow-131 shrugged and handed the perplexed Marine what later were identified as the missing sergeant's dog tags. The Spartan claimed that he had found them while searching for the missing Marine, though Shadow-131 had been on a search-and-destroy operation well before the sergeant was declared missing. The UNSC denied any claims of the story to actually be true. However, there was always that slim, or not so slim, possibility that it was.
These thoughts and more sent chills down the spines of the heavily armed escort team as they stood at a shaky attention outside the bulkhead. In their minds, they reassured themselves that nothing, not even an enraged Hunter, could escape that prison. Yet, Spartans were certainly not to be trifled with, and the continued to prove time and time again that they always had something up their metallic sleeves.
Inside the three foot thick titanium alloy walls, the Spartan sat with his back against the cold metal frame, his legs hunched against his chest, his arms resting uncomfortably on his knees. He was as motionless as a statue, as silent as a shadow. In his giant hands hung two thin, malformed silver epaulettes, connected by a small chain. Inscribed in these relics were the words,
Spartan II
Jorge-052
NOBLE 5
"Distance is currently closing with the Covenant Super-Carrier. Seventy-six seconds to endpoint."
The droning hum of the bulkhead was replaced with the robotic, monotone voice of Auntie Dot, Noble Team's personal AI. Noble Six found himself aboard a Covenant Corvette, a small, sleek ship designed for reconnaissance and support. He was aboard the main holding bay of the warship, a room composed of purple and gray Covenant metal alloys. All around the odd frigate were the lifeless bodies of both Covenant and UNSC soldiers alike, the cost of taking the Corvette paid by those risking to sacrifice everything for the protection of Reach.
In the center of the large room lay a UNSC Pelican, moderately damaged from the firefight that had transpired just moment earlier. Attached to its cargo hold was the device all hopes for Reach were counting on. A makeshift bomb, crafted from the FTL drive of the Savanna, was Noble Team's last chance at destroying the Covenant Super-Career by ripping a hole in space-time, obliterating the only thing standing between humanity and its survival.
Jorge, a Spartan who resembled and acted like a tank, stood close to the damaged slip-space bomb in frustration. He slammed his Spartan's fist onto its control pad, sending a small shock wave throughout the ship.
"So, it's gonna be like that," Jorge voiced in an ominous tone as he paused from his work. Noble Six could understand that something had gone awry, yet again.
Turning to face Noble Six, Jorge explained in a frustrated tone,
"Well, I've got good news and bad news. This bird took some fire and her thruster gimbal is toast, which means the only way off this slag heap is gravity,"
"And the good news?" Noble Six hoped that his assumption on the structure of Jorge's news was correct.
"That was the good news." Jorge replied hastily, crushing whatever hopes Noble Six had left in his soul. He began to understand the gravity of the situation before them.
"At current velocity, fifty-three seconds to impact," Auntie Dot interjected, only succeeding in bringing the spirits of those two Noble's down even further.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Jorge responded, his voice flattening, his composure straitening, as he took off his helmet in an exacerbated manner. He looked into Six's helmet with raw determination.
"Bad news is, timer's fried. I'm going to have to fire it manually."
Six's heart dropped as he understood what the operation was going to cost. He hadn't even known Jorge-052 more than a day, but he had seen his courage, his tenacity, his raw ability. He didn't deserve this fate.
"That's a one way trip," Noble Six explained, attempting to talk the determined Spartan out of this decision, though he knew that nothing was going to change the course of Jorge's mind.
"We all make it sooner or later."
Jorge's response sent chills down Noble Six's spine. He had seen death before, he had seen sacrifice before, but he had never seen such a willingness to a cause, such determination to an idea. He himself had been a lone wolf for most of his career. Before, Noble Six had viewed the deaths of the Marines around him viewed as mostly a means to an end. Jorge held a completely different mindset, one of sacrifice, one of selflessness, devotion to a team.
"Better get going, Six, they're going to need you down there." Jorge wasn't even thinking of the fate that lay before him. He was thinking of his team, of the battle that lay beyond for them that he wouldn't be able to fight.
"Listen, Reach has been good to me. Now it's time to return the favor."
Jorge clasped Noble Six's left hand tightly. In the doomed Spartan's hands were his dog tags. One final symbol of his sacrifice.
"Don't deny me this," Noble Six honored the last wish of the heroic Spartan as he lifted Noble Six's one-ton body clean off the ground and began to carry his stunned frame towards the opening of the Corvette, never breaking eye contact with the Spartan.
"Tell 'em to make it count."
In a moment, Noble Six's world became a swirl of stars and space as he hurled down to the planet underneath him. As he fell, his emotions as a sea of despair, he saw the true size and strength of the Super-Career above him. Then, in a flash of purple and black light, a sphere, the shade of the void surrounding him and twice as deadly, engulfed the entire mid section of the Covenant cruiser. As swiftly as it materialized, it vanished, the rift in the space-time continuum collapsing in on itself.
As the universe around him transformed into the pitch night, Noble Six heard the deep, Australian tones of the long gone Spartan,
"War is sacrifice. I made mine. Make sure yours counts."
Darkness.
The sound of multiple high-tech gears turning brought Noble Six out of his dazed stupor. Swiftly, he placed the dog tags in a special compartment in his armor. Looking towards the source of the strange noise, he witnessed in surprise and confusion as the main magnetically sealed hatch on the carbon-fiber door began to spin, the multiple levels of protection sliding away with ease. Startled, he brought himself up to a standing position, his fists tightly clenched, his will ready to dominate anything that entered the room.
A loud buzzing sound filled Noble Six's ears as the heavy door flew open away from bulkhead. After a moment, the signaling sound died away, and in walked the very last person Noble Six wanted to see.
The stumpy captain's forehead was still heavily beaded with sweat as he cautiously crept into the prison. His composure was frail, his fear clearly visible through the numerous accolades adorning his standard officers' uniform. He wore an expression not of stubborn superiority, as the bewildered Noble Six had expected, but rather of humble abjection, and perhaps genuine sorrow.
Six's eyes fixed on the captain's in a lethal stare. He was ready to perform whatever action was necessary. The captain did not attempt to match the show of force, instead subjecting himself by looking away from the Spartan's deadly glare. After a few awkward moments, the captain managed to shakily speak,
"I know you may not be in the listening mood, Spartan, and I don't blame you for it. I blame myself."
Noble Six was taken slightly aback. He cautiously released some of the pressure in his clenched hands as the captain continued,
"I was there, you know. You and I may be the one of the only people alive who remember exactly what happened on Reach."
"Sir," Noble Six warily responded, understanding that this possible charade could have been cover for something more devious.
"I didn't think you would believe me. You have no reason to, which is fair enough. I'm just surprised that you aren't ripping into me after I threatened your life and all."
Frankly, so was Noble Six.
"To be blunt, I never thought I would see anyone from Noble Team again after what you guys sacrificed."
Captain Marcus slowly approached Noble Six, his steps slow and heavy, his eyes still downcast. Noble Six did not react as he might've under normal situations, allowing the man he assumed to be hostile approach to continue his statement.
"Listen, as the captain of this fleet, it's my duty to ensure the safety and survival of every soul aboard. When I nearly lost control of that safety, I responded without thinking. I apologize for that, Spartan, but our survival had to come before the lives of whatever I destroyed. We've all had to make sacrifices to keep humanity from going under, you know that more than anyone."
The captain swiftly turned towards the open doorway and ushered one of the Marine escorts in. The escort was as nervous, if not more so, than the fleet captain standing before him. As Six analyzed the Marine, his eyes opened wide as he caught sight of something he immediately assumed to be another vision.
The Marine saluted the captain anxiously, and the captain swiftly saluted back. After this formality, the captain gently took the device from the nervous Marine's arms, and turned back to Noble Six's incredulous frame.
"It took some digging in the armory, but I believe this belongs to you, Noble. It's not the same one, but I hope that it will suffice."
The captain held a MJOLNIR Mark V helmet in outstretched arms towards the stunned Noble Six. Its outer coating of gray paint shimmered in the artificial light of the bulkhead. Its titanium alloy frame dazzled, completely undamaged and unfazed. Its yellow tinted visor shone brightly, a singular smooth plate of reinforced glass. Noble Six slowly took the helmet from the nervous captain, touching its visor in stark disbelief.
"We're in quite a precarious situation, Spartan. I don't know what it was we were engaged by; I can't guarantee the safety of anyone on this ship, in this fleet. I do know that you are the man to fix this. I can't do this alone, and though I have no grounds to ask it of you, I need your allegiance if we're to survive this."
Six hadn't taken his eyes of his helmet as the captain spoke his words. Memories came flooding back to his mind; all of Reach came back to his frame like a bullet tearing through his heart. Noble Team sacrificed everything: their homes, their families, their friends, their very lives, to keep humanity from utter destruction. If there was one thing that he learned from his short tenure at their sides, it was that no matter the cost, no matter the situation, no matter what anyone had done in the past, the higher cause of keeping those homes, families, friends, and lives going remained the superior cause.
"Yes, sir."
The captain smiled a most genuine smile.
"Excellent, Spartan. I suppose we should start..."
Captain Marcus's hopeful statement was cut off by a chirping sound caused by his tactical pad attached to his wrist. It flashed a desperate crimson, alerting Noble Six to some kind of danger. The captain's smile turned into a serious expression as he pushed a button, projecting a high definition, three dimensional image into the open air around them.
The hologram displayed a frantic Enlisted Marine standing with his back towards the bridge of a standard UNSC vessel. In the background, other Marines fought desperately against an unknown force, unloading clip after clip of various weapons towards the left side of the scene. Purple and blue bursts of light erupted in response, freezing whatever unfortunate Marine managed to get hit, leaving them seemingly unfazed other than immobility. A cacophony of shouts and echoes contributed to the utter confusion surrounding the desperate situation as more and more Marines became frozen in place by the unknown purple and blue auras surrounding them.
"Captain, the Hammer's under attack by an unidentified alien force! We need reinforcements, I repeat, we need..."
The Marine was never able to finish his frantic statement as he suddenly found himself wrapped head to toe in what appeared to be a yellow jump rope with purple ends launched dramatically from a pink canon in the background. The startled and confused Marine fell immediately out of the holographic picture as he scrambled to untie the unexpected knot of fabric surrounding his frame.
Almost instantly, a pink equine-esque being with an extremely odd mane materialized in the holographic image. With an oddly energetic smile, accounting for the situation at hand, it spoke in rapid and excited tones into the holographic projector,
"Ooooh, what's this thing do? Wait, is that Noble Six! And who's that other human? Hi, Other Human!"
Both Noble Six's and Marcus's jaws dropped at the insane sight before them, though Six's surprise was hidden by the visor of his helmet.
"Don't worry, Noble Guy, we've got the situation totally under control! Nothing remotely, slightly, or even barely wrong is happening over here, trust me!" Wait, I have to know what this button does--"
The holographic image cut out as suddenly as it began. For a few dazed moments, not a breath was taken in that bulkhead. Then, with a look of confusion and fear marking his frame, the captain looked towards Noble Six and shakily said,
"...there. We'll start there."