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Remember Reach	By : xxfatedsoulxx Category: +G through L > Halo Views: 40530 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Halo and all the races/characters herein are owned by Halo, Bungie, and Microsoft. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purpose and I make no money from it.

Chapter List
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~A/N~ Production on Remember Reach is going to be a little slower than when I first started, but I do intend to try and put a chapter in every week at least. Also, I know there's been some grammar errors and the like, I've been going back through it and editing them out as I catch them. So please, leave a review and tell me your opinions. I love to hear feedback, so that I know the story's actually getting read. After all: It's all here to amuse, so I like to know when I'm successful with that.
~Beta'd by Envy~ (Always. <3 her so much for always helping.)
*****

Hazel fought with the inexhaustible determination that’d been bred into her since childhood. Every step was calm, calculated and methodical as she spent the next week decimating every Covenant warrior still aboard their ship. She’d had to give credit to a few of the Elites, however. She had originally expected them to mobilize and charge the bridge and try to retake their ship; but what followed was rather tactful and cunning.
Several of the Elites had moved to try and fortify areas of the ship, and then take key systems offline. The ships diagnostics registered damage near the slipspace drives, and had tipped Hazel off to their ideas, else they would’ve been ripped back into normal space and been powerless to get going again. After all, Hazel knew she was a lot of things, but capable of repairing a slipspace drive was outside her skill set.
The remaining Grunts and a pair of Engineers was all that remained, and that group had pinned themselves in by the escape pods. Hazel had taken turns with David to go in and randomly fire a couple shots in their general direction every few hours to keep them scared and corralled. If they want to jettison themselves in the pods when we make it to Earth, that’s fine by me. Hazel thought as she fired a couple high-pitched plasma rounds around the bend, causing the jittery creatures to scream and scramble about. Most of them were unarmed at this point, having exhausted the charge on their weapons in their original defense of the position.
Hazel waited until she heard their garbled prayers to the Forerunners before turning to head back to the bridge. She ran a hand through her ever-growing, dirty blonde locks, through a culmination of blood and sweat. In the moment of calmness that came with having nothing to do but wait, she felt very “normal” human urges bubble up in her stomach. The desire for a hot meal, a nice long shower, and a full night’s sleep among them - none of which she’d had since before the Covenant attacked Reach.
The bridge doors sealed behind her, after a moment of urging from her heightened strength, both to open and close. David had fried the bridge’s main motor controls with his Plasma Rifle and made it nigh impossible for the automated system to operate. Once inside, Hazel moved over to the command chair and slumped down into it. “Any luck figuring out how much longer till we arrive?”
“No Ma’am. Never did learn how to read squid-lip.” The square faced Marine answered back.
His attitude seems to be sustaining. She admitted to herself, having worried that he might slip into some form of depression from his loss and fatigue. Instead, the grunt had actually greatly impressed her with his staying power. She let her head sink back against the command chair’s back, “Holler at me in two hours.” She directed before letting her own weariness drag her off into slumber, even as David gave affirmation that he’d heard her.

***

Hazel felt herself shoved against a wall behind her as a pair of strong lips pressed against hers. She felt herself dumbstruck as she stared at the young man in front of her. She watched him withdraw and stare intently at her, a pair of deep green eyes meeting her grey-blue stare. “Jesse… We can’t…” She weakly pleaded.
Jesse stood almost a full head taller than her, and his slight, but defined frame belayed his strength. Like all of her class, Jesse’s espresso hair had been cropped short into a military crew. His deep emerald pooled eyes drank her in, and she felt a rush of excitement at the way she looked, reflected in his depths. His hard, square jaw and blunt nose framed a pursed, arrogant smile, as he kept his strong hands on her shoulders - pinning her against the wall.
“I can’t help it Hazel. Lieutenant Commander Ambrose already said we’d dodged a bullet by not going on TORPEDO, and now, with us both going our separate ways, I had to tell you.” He answered in low tenor. “I love you Hazel and I have to know how you feel about me. I have to know before you get on that ship.”
Hazel knew the answer even before he’d asked. The pair had spent nearly every waking minute together throughout her entire Spartan training. He’d been there to help her along, and take her help, every step of the way. Like many others, she’d elected to join the Spartan forces from a back-water planet’s orphanage, and she had only a few people she’d considered close. Her mind flashed to Lucy, Adam, Min, and Tom. The six of them had all come to rely on one another, but two weeks before the operation, Kurt had approached a few of them and given them new assignments.
Hazel was told that she was going to be working explicitly with an ONI group designed for gathering intelligence against foreign powers, such as the Covenant and the Insurgents, while they were deploying Jesse out for deep, long-term reconnaissance. The idea of being split off from the only people she’d ever cared about had been a crushing blow, and she knew that saying goodbye to Jesse was going to be the hardest part yet. “Jesse… I… We shouldn’t be talking about this. We are Spartans first and foremost.” She blurted out, ignoring that the words made her feel as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. I love you more than anything. I love you beyond measure. She thought, unable to will the words to form on her tongue.
Her response caused him to straighten back up, his shoulders squared, but his hands remained on her shoulders. “Spartans.” He repeated slowly, “But still human. I love you Hazel, and I always will. Promise me you’ll stay safe.” His tone was even, and he hadn’t requested she promise him; he had ordered it. “Promise me this isn’t the last time we’ll see one another.”
Hazel felt as if the boot stomping on her gut twisted and ground deeper at the idea of never seeing him again. “I promise Jesse.” She spoke past the lump forming in her throat.
She watched him as he leaned back in towards her, his lips pressing together for another kiss, but a voice called in the distance. “Spartans one-seven-zero and three-one-two, your Pelicans are waiting for you!” Both of the younger soldiers stiffened and snapped to attention as they heard their tag numbers called out.
“Sir, yes sir!” They both chimed in unison as they turned to face Colonel Ackerson and snapped off sharp salutes.
Ackerson returned their salute, “Your armors are already waiting on your respective vehicles, Spartans. Get a move on - double time.”
“Thank you, sir!” They both recited with the kind of timing that only came with years of practice. Both of them began to rush towards the hanger, running side by side.
“Ma’am.” Jesse sad and put a hand on her shoulder as they ran. “Ma’am!” He repeated by giving her a light shake of his shoulder.
“What…?” She asked slowly as the world seemed to dissolve around her and she felt herself pulled back onto the present, waking world. She blinked away sleep and stifled a yawn as she looked up to see the thick, square face of David. “What is it marine?”
“Ma’am, it’s been two hours and the ships console started flashing some weird symbols and lights. I think we might be getting close to Earth.”
Hazel righted herself in the chair and rubbed her eyes, “Then we’d best not keep them waiting.”
The next forty-five minutes were spent with vivid, day-dreamed memories of a life that could have been. In the wake of everything she’d been through since receiving the order: “Go to Reach and become a final member to team Noble,” Hazel had been pushed to her limit. She remembered “finding” information about the other Spartan-III members of her group. They’d been put together as a unit, Team Foxtrot, which had been decimated during project TORPEDO. It was a wound that struck deep into her core. Lucy and Tom were the only two to make it out alive, while Min and Adam died in that fight. Likewise, Hazel hadn’t been able to find anything regarding Jesse’s whereabouts, or operational condition.
It was all this loss that’d made Hazel into who she was. She clearly remembered Carter talking about how Noble was a team, and wouldn’t tolerate “lone-wolf” behavior. It was ironic that she’d accepted those terms, and let herself feel as if she was a part of a unit again, only to watch every last member die valiantly.
The chiming of the console and flashing glyph called for her attention and she obliged. The ship rapidly decelerated as they crossed through the rift in subspace and back into real space. Within seconds, she watched the console light up with what she assumed to be pods launching. Glyphs and alien writing scrolled past the semi-transparent projection, and she watched as the giant sphere in the center of the bridge lit up.
The holographic globe took the shapes and dimensions of Earth, most of it lighting up bright white. A large section of it was surrounded by the geosynchronous platforms that made up the Orbital Defense Platform. It also represented several dozen ships in the area, as well as several “Friendly” Covenant ships registering by the surface. The Covenant Battlenet com suddenly started blaring with dozens of different conversations taking place at once.
“Protect the hierarch’s ship!” A deep throated, garbled voice called.
Several others resounded his order and she watched as ships and vessels moved in to support a Covenant Super Carrier.
“Damn it!” David snapped, “They already glassed Reach, this can’t be happening!”
A large part of her wanted to join his indignation, but she had to stay focused. “Stow it marine. We’re not letting them have Earth.” She barked with the best impression of SCPO Franklin Mendez that she could. Even as she spoke, Hazel moved over to the communication console and began to try broadcasting on unencrypted channels towards the UNSC defense platforms. “This is Spartan Beta-three-one-two, of team Noble, currently aboard, and in control of, Covenant Corvette, Guru of Faith. Does anyone copy? Over.”
It only took a moment before a deep throated bass voice responded, “This is Fleet Admiral Hood, explain your situation Spartan.”
“Sir, bringing advanced warning, and another ship for the fight.” Hazel responded as she turned it towards the Cairo geosynchronous station.
“Understood. What‘s your operational status, Lieutenant?”
“Nearly green, sir. Compromised armor and I only have a wounded marine as this ship‘s crew.”
“I’m sending you docking coordinates for the Cairo. I want you aboard and outfitted, ASAP. Report to command deck afterwards.”
“Yes sir.”
Docking was a bit awkward, seeing as the Corvette she’d borrowed, wasn’t built like a human vessel. She received a welcome committee, complete with a full compliment of ODST poised at the door, weapons drawn. Hazel went about rushing through their improvised customs, ignoring the random comments that the prideful troopers spat her way. It didn’t take all that long, as it seemed the station was already engaged in combat with the Prophet’s escort ships, so everyone had better places to be now that they confirmed it wasn’t some Covenant trap.
When the talking had ended, she was sent down to get geared up, at their engineering room. There, she’d been issued a set of upgraded Mark VI MJOLNIR armor with increased shield capability. Her time spent getting adjusted to the upgrades had also yielded information about the Prophet’s assault. It seemed that the fleet that had showed up was nearly wiped out by the Navy and ground forces, and that the fight against the Prophet’s Cruiser was still raging on the surface. The younger tech involved in getting the armor fitted explained that another Spartan had already been issued a set of the MJOLNIR armor and was currently fighting on the surface. He’d been enamored at her, pointing out he’d never seen a Spartan before, but now he’d seen two in a day.
She had to - on several occasions - edge his attention back to the task at hand. The armor she was issued was drab green, and a few of the parts had to be readjusted to fit, but she was lucky that they had everything on station already. “Do you know the Spartan’s service tag?”
“Yes Ma’am. It’s listed here as… One-one-seven.” The eager young blonde read from the chart. “Says here, he’s listed as Master Chief.”
Hazel gave a smooth nod. It wasn’t anyone she’d known personally, but the Master Chief was one of the most well known Spartan-II soldiers in the fleet. It’s good to know there are other active Spartans; I’d thought most of them were on Reach. She thought hopefully as she pulled on her new helmet and activated the seal. “Then he’s going to want some help.”
Without waiting for a response, the Spartan turned about and double-timed her way to the railway line that was outside engineering, stepping over mostly dried smear of mixed human and Sangheili blood. She was to the command deck in a matter of minutes and stepped off, rushing through the directions of Navy men who urged her up some stairs and into the presence of Fleet Admiral Hood. He, and a handful of other officers, stood clustered around a holographic display of the fighting that was taking place both in space and on the ground.
“Sir. Spartan Beta three-one-two reporting for duty.” She quickly announced with a sharp salute.
The aged, deep-lined face regarded her from his tactical operations chart. “Good to have you aboard Lieutenant, you’re just in time.” He paused to point out the largest Cruiser below as it showed up on the holographic display. “We’re going to use the ship you found to attack and board this ship. We need to capture the Prophet that’s aboard it, so that we can use him as a bargaining chip for when the rest of the fleet arrives.
“Captain Rhodes, I want as many of your crewmen on board that vessel. They will be assaulting this section of the back, exposing the hanger bay for the Lieutenant to drop aboard, along with your best ODST squad.”
“Yes sir.” she and the Captain responded in unison.
Guess that shower is going to have to wait. Hazel looked over to the attending Marine guard at the top of the stairs. “I’m going to need some firepower.” She stated flatly, as Captain Rhodes began to issue orders to his crew.
“S-sure, step right over here!” The eager grunt snapped to and rushed over to swipe his ID card across the wall mounted gun rack. Hazel was right behind him, grabbing up a BR55 Battle Rifle, which she quickly hooked on her back, and a pair of M7 Submachine Guns, along with as much ammo as her armor would allow for each one.
She barely had time to hook a couple fragmentation grenades to her hip before Captain Rhodes called over to her, already moving into the railway car. “Spartan, we’re Oscar Mike!”
Hazel activated the small magnetic hip holsters and hooked the SMGs to them as she bolted into the car behind him, barely making it before the doors closed.
The trip back to the Corvette was short, they were undocked within a matter of minutes, and it wasn’t long before the Prophet’s ship was in sight. Over the com, she heard a Commander Keyes call out, “Sir! The Prophet's bugging out. Request permission to engage.”
Fleet Admiral Hood responded, “Negative Commander. I'll vector two heavies for star-side intercept.”
Captain Rhodes called over to his crewman, “I want those engines targeted, now. We’re clipping her wings before she goes anywhere. As soon as you have the shot, blast them with everything we got!” Hazel watched out the forward view as a slipspace rupture began to form just off the Carrier’s starboard bow. “Damn it! Get us in range, now! And get an image of that ship to Hood!”
Keyes‘ voice again filled the channel, “There's no time sir!”
She watched as the rupture began to grow and the small Frigate shot in after it, Hood’s voice ringing out, and “Green light! Green light to engage!”
The two smaller vessels bore down upon the Carrier, but it was in vain. Before their Corvette’s guns were in accurate range, the ship, along with In Amber Clad and a large chunk of the city were pulled through into the slipspace tear, disappearing from sight. The sudden gap in space created a massive shockwave that tore through the city, leveling a good portion of it.
“All hands, brace for impact!” She heard Rhodes call even before the sleek vessel was hammered by the torrent. Alarms blared everywhere as the ship’s engines fought to keep it aloft. Hazel was pitched across the deck, slamming hard into one of the ship’s consoles, her shields flaring to life as they fought to cushion the blow. The impact caused an explosion of stars to spread across her vision, even through the dampening of her armors’ defenses.
Several other crewman were sent flying as well, one of whom slammed hard against the viewport with a sickening, wet crunch of bone, and leaving a smearing trail of blood down it as gravity pulled him to the floor. The ship continued to violently buck, as if riding on waves in a stormy sea. The whole effect only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
The next forty-five minutes were spent trying to get the ships ailing systems back underway as its automated systems tried to keep it erect. The crew valiantly did everything they could against the damaged control conduits, but the doomed vessel finally slammed tail first into a Space Elevator, causing it, and the engines, to detonate in a shower of sparks and plasma. Both colossuses were torn from the sky the Elevator one direction, while the Corvette smashed down in another.
Hazel clung to the panel as the ship rammed into the ground, buckling the outer hull under the vessels weight before it was sent into a tumbling roll. The inglorious landing ended when the viewport smashed in against a skyscraper, filling the deck with rubble, glass, and dust.

***

Voro paced about his quarters savagely, his fists clinching and releasing over and over in bitter anticipation. The Phantom had proven to be a decoy, and he learned that the Demon had stolen a Corvette and disappeared. The furious Sangheili warrior looked over at the Jiralhanae beast that stood arrogantly in his doorway. “Your message has been delivered, mongrel, you may leave.”
A deep, low voiced chuckle answered him, “We have been ordered to keep an eye on you until your hearing before the Hierarchs.” He responded in primitive barks and yelps.
Voro, like most Sangheili, held no love for their vial, incompetent race. They were like rabid pets, nipping at the heels of their betters. Always quick to do the bidding of the Prophets without so much as a sideways thought to honor or conduct. “You need not concern yourself with matters far beyond yourself. Your primeval mind wouldn’t even begin to comprehend such things.”
The Jiralhanae rose to the goading, letting out an indignant growl and bark. His large hand started for the Spike Rifle attached to his hip, but Voro was faster on the draw. His energy sword hissed to life, as he closed the short gap between himself and the brute. The twin blades sizzled just under the beast’s chin, flanking either side of his small neck. “This is the only warning you will get. If you ever try to draw that weapon on me again, I’ll cut you down without a second’s hesitation, cur.”
The look in his eyes gave Voro some reprieve and a sense of satisfaction as the mutt lowered his paw from his weapon and took a step back. “I shall relay your…. Reluctance… to the council.”
“You do that.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, powering down his weapon and returning to his pacing as the beast left.
How dare they accuse me of incompetence? It was not my decision to take that succubus from her cell and mate with it! His temper began to flare again. It was she, who slay the former Ship Master, not I. I had no time to act, and I did all within my power to find her! He went over his story in his head, thinking it through to see where he might have erred, but he could see nothing. Nothing they would know anyway. They can’t possibly know my intent for the female.
Aside from his desires to ravage and dominate the creature, thereby turning its sexual nature into a form of obedience, Voro was at a complete loss for why he was under scrutiny.
Within a few days, an emissary from the Council was sent to collect him, and he walked into their chamber, head held high. His bright gold armor polished to perfection as he proudly strut to the raised dais in the center of the grand chamber. Surrounding him, there were multi-tiered audience chambers, steadily moving outwards. Each level rose enough that they could clearly look down upon the being in the center, without having to peer around one another.
As with most of their structures, the sleek and smooth purple surfaces glinted in the illuminations cast from varied light sources in a way that left little to no shadows in the assembly room. Sitting out front, were the prophets of Truth and Mercy. Both of them were sitting upon their floating thrones with their hands upon their ornate arms.
The venerable Mercy sat with his eyes mostly closed and his elongated head slouched forward at the end of his long ribbed neck. To Voro, it looked as if the ancient San’Shyuum was unable to lift his crown. Thick, white hairs curled from various points of his face, giving him long eyelashes. His wattles had begun to grow from his cheeks, another tantamount to his increased age. He bore dull purple robes that caused him to blend in with the muted colors of his black, Gravity Throne.
Truth sat more proper and upright, a shining example of poise and dignity. Atop his head, he bore the large elaborate headdress of the High Prophets. His flamboyant, bright red robes were nearly the opposite of Mercy’s. Whereas Mercy seemed to blend in with his perch, Truth seemed to rise above it. The awe inspiring sight of a the majestic golden doorway behind his head would have sent nearly any simpering faithful Covenant member to their knees. But Voro was too proud to sink to that, and instead he stood strong in their splendor.
“Voro ‘Vadamee, do you know why you have been summoned before us?” Truth began, in a tone that suggested boredom.
“Yes, Holy One, I do. It is in regards to the female demon.”
“Would you care to explain your actions?”
“I would if properly accused. I was not the one to release it from its holding pen, nor was I the one to arm it.” Voro quickly replied.
Truth pressed his three long, thin fingers together and sat a bit straighter in his throne. His long neck craning upwards as he cast an indignant stare down at Voro, “We would have thought that to be clear, Commander. You had a demon aboard your ship, one that got loose while you did nothing a-”
Voro’s temper got the better of him, and he blurted out, “I did not do nothing, Holy One! I searched the ship endlessly for it! By the time we arr-”
The audience erupted into outraged whispers and murmurs at his impertinence, but it was Mercy to call out first, silencing both Voro and the Council. “There will be order in this council!” He barked before turning his lidded eyes upon Voro, “And you will wait to speak until you are addressed to do so.”
Voro lowered his head as he fought to stow his rage. “My apologies Noble Mercy. I meant no disrespect.”
Truth gave a small, dismissive wave and resumed his accusations, “Regardless of what you might have done or not Commander, the fact remains that you allowed one of the heretical demons to meander about your ship. A ship, I might add, that was bound for one of the Sacred Rings.” He paused a moment, letting the dramatic tension of the hall grow. “Rather than stop your ship and attend the problem, you cost us another ship, with your idiocy.”
Voro kept his head lowered, so as not to show the murderous intent he was sure burned in his dark eyes. “We assumed it would be handled before we arrived. By the time I learned the demon’s intent, there was nothing I could do.”
“We seem to be hearing that a lot lately.” Truth said coldly. “The last person who said such to us was another failure from that ‘Vadam family.”
It took every ounce of self control within Voro to not lunge at the San’Shyuum and take his head. Heresy or not, the Prophet had begun to insult his entire family, and back on Sanghelios that was punishable by death. He was thankful for the order to remain silent; because he wasn’t sure he could hold his tongue at this point.
Truth resumed his rebuking, “Because of this glaring failure, and lack of judgment, you will be stripped of your command, as well as your rank.” He announced a bit more loudly than before, “You will have a chance to redeem yourself, however. And possibly, you will restore some honor to your family. Should you fail, you will be branded a heretic and branded as such, thus denying your place along the path.”
Voro’s rage extended through his body, causing his hands to tremble. “And what would you have me do?”
“You will find that demon, slay it, and bring it’s head to High Charity. Only then will you hold any hope of restoring your lost honor.”
I haven’t lost my honor, you pompous windbag. I am being a martyr to another’s failure, but I will bring back her head. And when I do, I’ll shove it down your throat. He simply gave a nod to affirm he’d understood the order, before two Jiralhanae moved up to try and grab him by the arms.
A quick snarl and lift of his arms sent the beasts back a bit, and he turned to exit the chamber. He walked with as much pride on the way out as he had on the way in. He wouldn’t show any sign of weakness to the council. You will pay succubus. Your death will not be pleasant, and it will not be quick.
In spite of himself, the Sangheili felt his nether begin to grow forth as images of, what exactly he would do to the female when he caught her, began to flow through his mind.
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