As Natasha’s Warthog continued to drive along the dirt road towards her destination, two Osprey’s flew overhead in the same direction.
‘No wait, they’re called Falcon’s in this world,’ she thought to herself while being serenaded by an adventurous melody in the background.
She looked over at the snow-capped mountains before her, they created a canyon of sorts with the road cutting them down the middle and firmly established the reality that she wasn’t on Earth any longer.
‘It’s like I’m living out a movie,’ the woman thought in awe as they neared the FOB. ‘I can’t explain it, the background music’s so subtle that you can forget it’s there at times, but it definitely makes this whole thing so cinematic. If I was watching this in theaters, I’d be at the edge of my seats with my eyes glued to the screen if the visuals were even half as good as they are now…’
The Falcon’s landed ahead of them as their Warthog came to a stop at the side. With a nod to her driver, the super spy turned super soldier stepped out the vehicle with practiced ease and unconsciously made her way towards the tents.
Despite how much she wanted to explore, in the back of her mind there was a constant urge pushing her to disregard those feelings. She didn’t know why, but the woman felt as if reporting in to her new commanding officer was her highest priority.
As Natasha neared the tent that housed her fellow Spartans, she could hear the voice of Colonel Holland coming in over their com.
“…All signals flatlined at twenty-six hundred hours. I responded with Trooper fire teams which have since been declared MIA,” she heard him say.
“And now you’re sending us,” spoke a voice which she ‘knew’ from her prior briefings belonged to the Commander, Carter.
As the two continued to converse, Natasha entered the tent, only to be stopped by another woman with a metal prosthetic arm.
“Commander?” the woman in blue armor asked Carter in a Russian accent.
The man turned to face her briefly, before nodding and turning back to his talk with the Colonel.
The Spartan sitting down and sharpening a knife, Emile if she remembered correctly, spoke to the other woman next, “Kat. You read her file?”
“Only the parts that weren’t covered in black ink,” the woman, Kat, responded and Natasha was glad her helmet hid her smirk from the rest of the group. If only they knew how true that was, no matter which world she was in.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The rest of the team waited while the Commander finished receiving orders from Holland. After being dismissed, he grabbed his helmet from the table and turned to face the group.
“Lieutenant,” he said and Natasha felt a nudge in the back of her mind that he was talking to her.
“Commander, sir,” she responded in kind and stepped forward.
“I’m Carter. Noble Teams leader,” he continued after a nod of acknowledgment. “That’s Kat, Noble Two. Emile and Jorge, Four and Five.”
The tallest Spartan in the tent, donned in a mismatch of orange, grey, green, and red armor, nodded in her direction as she turned to glance at him. The rest of the team meanwhile began gathering their things and preparing to head out.
“You’re riding with me, Noble Six,” Carter finished the introductions and the group began to depart the tent, with Natasha and the Commander following behind. “Not gonna lie to you, Lieutenant. You’re stepping into some shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled. Me, I’m just happy to have Noble back up to full strength.”
The Falcon’s began running up once again while the team approached and boarded. As Natasha and Carter got on, she met the final member of Noble. Jun or Noble Three, she recalled, the fireteam’s marksman.
“Just one thing… I’ve seen your file,” Carter continued. “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?”
By this point Natasha was fully immersed in her role as Noble Six.
“Got it, sir,” she replied, the faint memories implanted into her beginning to mix with her own personal experiences in the real world and thus she could only blankly nod in agreement as the Falcon began to take off.
“Welcome to Reach,” Jun called from over his shoulder.
The music in Natasha’s ears began to pick up pitch, but this time it only faded into the background as instincts she felt had been ingrained for years, held her on alert as the Falcon’s left the cover of the canyon.
In the back of her mind a voice cried out, reminding her to collect data for a report she had to turn in later, but she ignored the thought. If there was a report to be made, Carter would ask for it at that time.
•••••••••••
“Let’s go, Six,” Carter called as he jumped out of the Falcon.
They had just gone over the mission details on final approach over the mountains, a downed relay outpost had been reported on the area and Kat was assigned to get it back online. The rest of Noble was to find out who did it and kindly introduce themselves to them.
The only problem was they had detected a distress beacon on their way in. A minor issue, but with the area being jammed, it could prove problematic if they needed to evacuate survivors.
“Alright Noble Team,” the Commander called as they got boots on ground. “Spread out, watch the approach.”
Natasha worked her way down the hill, keeping roughly fifty meters of distance between herself and Emile. While doing so, she began to wonder why simple things, like her HUD and rifle, fascinated her so much. She had been using them for years and apart from this being her first time on Reach, this mission was nothing new either.
“Distress Beacon’s comi-*Shhhh*…south of you Commander. They’re close,” Kat’s voice crackling over the comm’s was accompanied by an unhealthy amount of static and brought her out of her idle thoughts. She swiftly refocused herself and readied her rifle as the steel homestead came up in her line-of-sight.
“Roger that,” Carter radioed back. “Eyes peeled.”
Natasha blipped her comm in acknowledgement, alongside the rest of the team, as they moved in on the ruined settlement.
As she stalked atop the rooftops, her rifle at the ready, several signs became increasingly clear to her. Irregular blood splatters, smashed in plate-metal doors, and insanely high temp scorch marks, plasma burns.
She didn’t know why that last one specifically stuck out to her so much, she’d rarely encountered the Covenant before as most of her assignments were counter-insurgency in nature. But for some reason she had a feeling, deep within her gut, that this attack was more than meets the eye.