SPARTAN 005 : Resurrection

== Chapter 1 - Lonely ==
'
Spartan 005 was a dead man, he just didn’t know it yet.
He felt a tug on his limbs as the malfunctioning jetpack carried him further and further away from Gamma station.The large angular station grew smaller against the backdrop of Reach. Alarms blared inside of his helmet, although there was nothing he could do about them. His tumble took him past numerous covenant dropships and elites streaming past him. Majority were focused on the battle aboard the space station. Although the occasional plasma round was fired in his general direction, making his shields flare up.
The Covenant mercilessly assaulted Reach, the place where he and his teammates were trained, the only place they remembered as home.
“They're everywhere!” He tried to contact his teammates, to no avail.
He passed the main group of covenant single ships and troops and was headed towards empty space, a handful of dropships peeled off to chase him, engines flaring as they attempted to keep up with him.
He attempted to get a glimpse of his surroundings, as much as his movement would let him. The UNSC was fighting a losing space battle against the Covenant, the space around Reach was littered with a steadily increasing amount of Human and Alien wrecks.
A frigate was bisected  by a energy projector, 
A corvette was slagged by a plasma barrage,
One of the cruisers slammed into a covenant destroyer head on, both ships tumbled lifelessly.
A carrier was the last to fall, numerous Covenant frigates tore it to pieces
These deathly silent scenes were replayed many times as he went further into the void, away from any hope of a rescue. Oddly enough, his breathing and heart rate slowed down. His first mission against the Covenant began to comeback to him as his mind wandered. 
The cruiser loomed in front of him. Fellow spartans flanked his left and right. Behind them a burning Commonwealth fought off wave after wave of Covenant fighters.
He kept tumbling, passing through fields of space debris. The dropships peeled off and returned towards the assault on the station. Human and alien wrecks alike drifted past him. 
They flew through the radioactive remnants of the commonwealth's fighter wings, pieces bouncing off his armour.
A jettisoned escape pod drifted lazily in front of him, its windows dark, engines lifeless. The was a thud that echoed in his helmet as he grazed the pod and bounced into space once again 
He skimmed across the shield of the ship, hands scrambling for purchase. No luck, he slipped off and flew farther away. Many of his comrades were in similar situations, many flew off in different directions. All he could do now was wait for extraction, or for death.
Unlike 2526 no one was coming to extract  him, nor were any other spartans drifting into space alongside him. Instead he calmed watched as he flew farther, a single green speck against the brilliance of Reach.
Broken transmissions streamed into his helmet.
“Pelican flight for e-”
“Boarding Craf-"
“-LZ is Overrun”
“Target that Cruis-"
He had tried to reach out and contact someone. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through the interference. 
He was hearing but unable to be heard.
Seeing but unable to be seen.
Like light in the darkness, the angular outline of a UNSC frigate briefly appeared out of the debris, right within his trajectory.
“Looks like I got a chance after all” He thought to himself
Cycling through frequencies, he attempted to hail the ship
“This is Spartan 005, Requesting assistance!”
No reply, he snapped a picture of the ship using his helmet cam. A quick look told him what he needed to know. 
The lights were still on.
The antenna looked damaged.
The armour was heavily battered.
There was a massive hole through the center...
The dead frigate got larger as he neared it, which his “luck” he might be able to find a functioning lifepod or dropship, something he could use to get back into the fight, his mood improved at the thought of it. As the wall of titanium-A drew closer, a sobering question popped into his head.
How was he going to land?
THUD
He impacted against the armour hard, denting it. His shield depleted and he grunted sharply. The malfunctioning jet pack pressed him deeper into the wall.
Eyeing the steadily depleting oxygen meter, he reached up towards a small crevice he could use as a handhold. At a slow but steady pace, he pulled his way up, fighting both his malfunctioning jetpack and inertia of the drifting frigate. He grappled towards the hole in the ship, hands finding purchase on the jagged edge.
Pulling himself in,the clawed his way towards a sealed emergency airlock. Opening the outer door Spartan 005 detached the jetpack from his back, the malfunctioning jetpack flew out of the open airlock into the void beyond.
He instinctively reached for his rifle, giving up when he realised it was lost when he was ejected from the station. He reached to his thigh, hands finding purchase on a cutdown M6D. He drew it and checked  the mag.
Twelve rounds left , Good enough.
Putting the magazine back in, he stepped into the corridor, sidearm raised, eyes darting back and forth.
There was a small layer of frost covering the walls and deck plates, items of various sizes drifted lazily throughout the twisted corridor. 
======
Farther down the corridor, open space could be seen through another ragged hole. Whatever caused the holes also caused majority of the ship to explosively depressurise. Most of the crew and embarked marines he found were locked in states of shock and fear.
A single battle rifle drifted in front of him, the black metal making tiny reflections of the ambient light. In a fluid motion, he reached up and scooped it out of the air. Checking the ammo counter, he saw that it had a full mag. His first priority was to find a way to restore his oxygen, hopefully there were some oxygen tanks left in the med bay.
He quickened his pace as his stored oxygen depleted, reaching the bay just as the level fell below 5 minutes 
Opening the door sent floating medical  supplies flying around, making muffled sounds as they impacted and bounced off the walls.
At the far end of the bay, a collection of large pressurised oxygen tanks were partly sticking out of a medical closet. 
He rushed over towards the tanks, he had to work quickly, else he was going to have the honour of being the only SPARTAN-II  to die from running out of oxygen.
Digging through the cabinet he found a hose and a pump, attaching one end to the oxygen tank. The other end was attached to the pump, the hose was pressurised then it was attached to a connection port on his armour. Switching the pump on, he found a place to wait while his tanks were refilled.
After an hour he was just below max capacity for his oxygen. Immediate danger averted, he sat on an exam table, the metal creaked. Taking a deep breath he mulled over his options: he could try searching the hangar bays for anything useful; or he could head to the bridge and check the inventories onboard.
He decided to head towards the bridge, it was closer and likely to have more useful intel.
Exiting the medbay, he turned the corner to head towards the bridge. The area he was in was right on the edge of the energy projector impact, many of the armour plates were twisted from the heat here.
Carefully walking on the ruined deck plates, he made his way towards the command area. As he looked around he could see crew members and items drifting towards the bleak void, averting his eyes from the morbid scene he pressed on towards his objective.
The lone spartan slowly walked towards the sealed elevator shaft. Prying open the doors, he pulled himself into the dark corridor. Reaching out towards the cable, he slowly began to pull himself “up”, red emergency lights reflecting off his polarized visor. 
Reaching the command deck he pried open the doors again, stepping onto the deck his battle rifle was raised and moved left to right as he scanned the remains of the hall for any threats
Opening the door revealed the sad state of the once clean command area. Alarms were wailing and bathing the bridge in a red hellish glow. The view ports were destroyed, the emergency shutters also had a few holes burnt into them as well. Burn marks covered parts of the walls and some consoles. Other consoles were still lit, waiting for input from fallen crew members.
He  walked in slowly, weapon lowered but eyes darting around the room. Hopefully the inventory console was still active so he could check which hangars or escape pod bays still had something inside. As he walked past the holotable, it flared to life, spinning around he raised his rifle. Ready to put a burst of nine-point-five into some hologram. 
A young woman looked back at him,  dark brown hair tucked into a messy bun, she had delicate facial features. Choosing to wear the armour of an insurrection era ODST. Her pale skin had the slight blue tint of a hologram. 
“AI identify!” The spartan barked, weapon still raised.
The woman spoke in heavily accented english, her soft voice amplifying the friendly iranian accent. She smiled at the armoured figure in front of her.
“UNSC AI Iden IDE 2432-4, AI for the UNSC Morning Streaks. What can I do for you?”
The spartan lowered his rifle and stepped closer towards the holotable.
“Why haven't you terminated yourself as per Cole Protocol?”  He said with a hint of confusion and anger creeping into his voice. 
The AI paused for a moment, her facial expression changed as she glanced down. “I'm unsure, I think those processes got damaged when the ship got hit”
Inhaling, the spartan spoke slowly “I need a way to contact and get back to Reach, my team needs me”. Pity flashed across Iden’s face for brief moment, then she said “I'm sorry, Reach has fallen". Her face was filled with pity as she gestured towards a terminal that turned on.
On the screen, Covenant ships began to burn the surface of Reach, the sharklike ships destroying the places he knew as home. Even at the distance he could see the remains of the UNSC fleet. Hundreds of various sized human ships drifted around. Many were no more than twisted, melted chunks of metal. Covenant ships prowled among the wreckage, trading shots with any surviving UNSC ships. 
He slammed his fist into a bulkhead, denting the titanium plates. His fists were clenched as he withdrew his arm, his eyes locked onto the dent as he thought about his fellow spartans. They were killed as he had flew out into space, he wondered if the rest of Blue Team had completed their mission.
Iden snapped him out of his rage.
“Nothing you do can bring them back. Going down in a last stand won't do anything for anyone either" 
He turned around and spoke with a voice thick with anger.
“Then what do you propose.”
Iden’s face hardened before she said.
“Grab whatever remaining supplies you can, head to a cryopod and wait. As soon as they leave, we’ll rally the survivors and look for a surviving prowler or civilian ship and make our way back to the UNSC.”
He glared at the AI, confused.
“There are survivors?”
Iden nodded, “There are a few survivors, majority of them are located towards the edges of the ship. We can collect the survivors and get them into cryopods for rescue at a later date.”
“Why do I need to be frozen? I can grab oxygen from any unsc ships nearby.”
Iden shook her head.
“The enemy could be patrolling the area, we don't know how long they'll stay and we want to avoid giving them reason to look closer. Unfortunately I can't be of much help to you, there's no way I can access other parts of the ship digitally”
Taking a deep breath, he said “I think I can carry you in my armour”.  Nodded slightly she said, “alright then”. Pressing the button to eject the chip, he took it and inserted into his helmet. Putting in the chip caused a cool tingling feeling to fill his head for a brief moment. Iden spoke, shattering his brief moment of tranquillity.
“Ah much better, now that everything is ready up here, let’s hunt for supplies and survivors! ”
The first stop was one of the ship armouries located within the exposed area. The door slid open to reveal a untouched room. The weapons and ammo still secured in their racks. He passed the different collections of weapons, choosing to stick with his battle rifle as opposed to the numerous assault rifles and smgs. After grabbing some magazines and grenades, he headed towards the other parts of the ship.
As walked through the decrepit hallways, he noticed a lack of human dead or any kind of damage. Many of the gray metallic corridors seemed normal save for the lack of gravity and oxygen.
“A lot more must have survived than I thought.”
The spartan nodded and continued through the tight corridors, wary of camouflaged covenant. His rifle was constantly panning left to right, ready for that invisible enemy to pop up. Eventually he came towards a sealed airlock door. He touched a few buttons and began to cycle the airlock.
“I wasn’t able to contact them from the bridge, but i'm reading 97 Marine and Naval IFF tags.” Iden mumered cheerfully.
James grunted in acknowledgement and waited for the inner door to open
A mix of marines and navy crew members had their weapons raised in the direction of the door, James instinctively raised both his hands. 
“Were all on the same side here” He said, turning his helmet slightly.
One by one the people there lowered their weapons, eyes darting back to the hatch behind him. Turning to the closest marine he asked.
“Who’s in charge Private?”
The name on his HUD read, Pvt Y. Akiyama, The private looked awestruck by the spartan, eyes wide as he scanned the area . He looked recently injured, his body armour was scored and scratched, a oxygen mask and tank were dangling from his chestplate.
“Lieutenant St. Jean, he’s near those pelicans.”  The marine gestured to the far end of the bay.
Nodding his thanks, he made his way towards the group of dropships.  In between them, pilots and crewmen were loading equipment and supplies onto the pelicans. While the marines provided security.
Many of the survivors stared at him as he strode past. Everyone was shocked to see a spartan onboard the ship, they gave him a wide berth as he went towards the makeshift command post.
The Lieutenant looked up from a datapad, surprise briefly flashed across his face
“I’d never thought I would see a spartan here. How did you end up on the ship?”
The spartan shifted uncomfortably and said, “I was blown away when my thruster pack was hit, I ended up hitting the frigate. What’s the situation currently?”
Looking around the Lieutenant firmly said  “I have 57 Marines here out of an original complement of 200, we have about 40 Naval personnel as well. We have about 2 airworthy pelicans currently, the third is being repaired as we speak.”
Iden’s voice emanated from his helmet speakers “Did you hear anything from the ODSTs or the rest of the ship?”
“No ma'am, either everyone's dead or maintaining radio silence.”
James then said “I’d advise you to prepare your troops for cryo sir, Reach has fallen and we should to wait for the Covenant to leave before we can evacuate.”
The lieutenant’s jaws moved slowly, as if he was chewing on the news he just received. After a few moments he nodded slowly and said “ I’ll let them know"
August 30th, 2552 - 1700 UNSC Standard Time - UNSC Morning Streaks - Drop Pod Bay
The bay was filled with the red glow of  emergency lights. Inside the fully geared ODST complement of the frigate prepared for battle. Many were lost in their own personal thoughts, evident through bare faces and unpolarized visors. Others displayed nothing, their faces and body language hidden under helmets and body armour.
While his troops kept themselves busy, the Captain Enrique DeSilvia scrolled through his wrist mounted datapad. In front of him a ghostly blue figure stood, this particular AI chose to portray himself as a 21st century marine.
Looking up at the AI the captain said.
“Well Max, do you have any good news for us?”
The AI shook his head sadly, he held his helmet under one arm and slowly began.
“Life support and gravity are online for most of the intact sections. Sadly, it appears that Reach has been overrun”
Switching to the feed of a surviving external camera, Captain DeSilvia saw as the Covenant burned one of humanity's last remaining strongholds. He watched in sullen silence as it happened.
“Uh, captain? It appears we may have gotten a guest aboard our ship,” Max continued.
The feed then switched to show a spartan flying into a breach in the hull. He smashed into a hallway within the ship, the walls dented from the impact.
“Their last known position was near the starboard launch bays, but the cams are down in there. How should we proceed?” Max asked.
Snapping out of his quiet rage, DeSilvia barked orders for a 6 man team to head to the bay. As they got their kit and moved out, he turned back to his datapad and tried to make a plan. He had 70 ODSTs under his command, although they had only 24 drop pods. He began to brainstorm methods of getting all 70 ODSTs on the ground in one piece.
He looked up as a trooper walked over to the crates he was using as a command post. They popped off their helmet, revealing a tired looking redhead. Lieutenant Melinda Al-Thani nodded at him and clipped her helmet to her belt. 
“What do you need capt’?” She asked.
“I need you to prep your team, we need to secure any supplies left on the ship.” DeSilvia said.
Saluting, the LT turned and went off to gather her team, once again DeSilvia was left to think.
30 Minutes Later
He felt and heard the footsteps of the spartan before he saw them. Turning around he saw the lone spartan approach, escorted by 5 ODSTs. In unison, all 6 snapped to attention and saluted him. Returning the salutes, he dismissed the 5 ODSTs. Turning to the spartan, he asked
”What information do you have, uhhh?”
The spartan began to speak.
“Spartan James 005 Sir. There are a limited amount of supplies and 4 large groups of survivors. Covenant ships are going to prevent us from searching nearby wrecks. We recommend entering cryo and waiting for the Covenant to leave. As soon as they leave we can look for an intact ship with a slipspace drive to contact the UNSC.” 
“We?” The officer looked confused.
“I have the the ships AI in my armour at the moment, all the bridge crew are dead.” The spartan’s body language showed no emotion. 
The Major nodded, “Seems like a sound idea spartan, I need you to assist in searching the damaged segments of the ship” Lowering his voice he said “I know some ODSTs aren't fond of the spartan program, but I assure you that you will not have any problems with my men.”
DeSilvia held his hand out, the spartan took it and shook the officer's hand. DeSilvia beamed, “It's good to have you with us, Spartan”.
Category:Stories