Slipspace, November 8, 2552.
Thomas Hunter Kirby XIII. My fathers were unoriginal. All they were were colonial farmers. And so was I. until insurectionists burned our farms, slaughtered my family, then got blown to pieces when ODSTs dropped in on them. The UNSC took me in after that. I was passed around a lot. It taught me what most civilians didn't learned of the rebels and later the Covenant. From knowing nothing to knowing almost everything. it wasa big thing for a little kid.
My family was never registered in the UNSC databanks despite directly supporting them with our massive farms. So, when I came of age and joined them, I could become whoever I desired. Tempting, but I decided to simply omit what founded my past, becoming Thomas Kirby, UNSC trainee.
My training started right away. It was hard, but not so much after tending massive fields as a little boy. I blew through training, the best of the best supposebly. They gave me a test of varying circumstances. I excelled at them all. They decided I'd be the perfect ODST. Just like the ones who saved me.
I've been through countless Hells since, both spawn by Covenant and terrorists. I was even there when the Earth was attacked, helping to counter the Flood infection while Elites, or Sangheili, and soldiers jumped through a gate to stop the Covenant and Flood mastermind once-and-for-all. At the cost of the revered legend, Spartan-117, or the Master Chief. Despite our truce, the Covenant still exists, albiet in the outer reaches of known space. That's where me and a few dozen other ODSTs have been since that fateful day.
One day happened to be the shittiest. Covenant forces had taken a human colony, supposebly wiping out everyone. We drop in to take them out. Right as the insurgents pop out of their holes to do the same. And they fucking shoot us even with the alien bastards within their sights, too. A three-way fight was never expected, so we were utterly out of our leagues against half-a-city's wirth of rebels plus a shipful of alien bitches.
Soon, I was the only one alive, only because I was the sole sniper. Didn't even get a spotter. I was on a low building, directly next to it's landing pad, exhausted from my run-in with some hostiles duking it out below. There's a whir of engines, making me look up. Human ship, able to carry a dozen men and make slipspace jumps. Fuck.
Well, it turned out to be a squad of heavily-armed Spartan IIs who saw my distress beacon. They stormed in and slaughtered all hostiles. They barely needed my covering fire. Afterwords, they informed me the Covenant had shot down my ride and offered me one with them. How could I deny such a kind offer?
So, I joined them as they patrolled the outer reaches, giving them support since I had nothing better to do; they had a mission and couldn't turn back to drop me off if they wanted to. (They seemed happy to have a good sniper who is both tough and disciplined with them.) It was on a long jump from one system to the next that the shit hit the fan.
Electronics went crazy, dropping us out of slipspace into the middle of nowhere, before shutting down entirely.The pilot worked at reactivating the ship while we gazed at the giant black circle dead ahead of us. What had us drawn to it was that around it was speckled with stars. And our momentum. It quickly filled the window. We were going through the black hole. Darkness hit us all as we did.