Out of The Ashes, A Spartan Returns.

Dust To Dust

 >> September 2nd, 2552

>> Epsilon Eridani System

>> Planet Reach

>> Aszod

>> Status: Glassed.

Jet B019 blinked a few times, waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside as he rolled over onto his stomach and moved his body into a crouch. His rifle was missing, the tactical pouches on his chest armor were ripped to shreds and the left pauldron of his armor was reduced to maybe a quarter of its original size from plasma impact.

The ground was littered with discarded plasma rifles and spiker rounds. The smell of burnt hair and flesh hung so thickly that even his air purifiers could not get rid of the stench. Trying as hard as he could to not gag, Jet looked around the battlefield for a few seconds before a feminine voice chimed in "Jet your armor is compromised, there is a severe amount of damage to your left pauldron and your helmet has a large piece missing. Your motion tracker may not function properly because of the damage." Zena said worriedly as Jet sighed a little, nodding as he peered over the short battle-scarred wall he was taking cover behind.

He leapt over the wall, sprinting to a building which seemed mostly stable despite having large holes in the walls. Jet's motion tracker flickered momentarily, a red dot appearing directly behind him. He rolled to the side and spun around, his combat knife in his hand but there was nothing there, no flickering of active camo nor any sound whatsoever. He chuckled dryly to himself as he turned off the motion tracker "Yeah motion tracker is unreliable." He said to Zena as he began to look for a usable weapon, listening for any sounds of movement.

>> August 30th, 2552

>> U.N.S.C. Frigate "Winter's Harvest"

>> UNSC Controlled Space

Kyle B240 shook his head and Cynthia G049 just stared at the intercom disbelievingly as the radio message repeated itself "This is the Admiral Bale, Commanding Officer of UNSC Frigate Winter's Harvest, The Covenant have glassed Reach, I repeat the Covenant have glassed Reach." The rest of Spartan Team Omega had been pulled off of the planet for an escort mission a week before Reach fell completely into the clawed hands of the Covenant. They were to make a slipspace jump back to Earth with high value personnel after enacting The Cole Protocol.

>> September 2nd, 2552

>> Reach

>> Aszod Region

Jet stood in the building, an MA37 Assault Rifle in his hands. The assault rifle had a large pronounced crack in the top casing, and a few minor burns where Jet assumed plasma had merely grazed the rifle. He had checked and rechecked the ammo he could find and it wasn't much, maybe three magazines worth. He sighed to himself, wondering just how the hell he was going to make it back to an active UNSC base.

 "This is quite a predicament, I'm getting no responses from any other AIs and all the UNSC bases I have in my databases are offline." Zena thought to herself in the fraction of a second that Jet blinked before readying himself. "Tell me the truth, we're going to die here aren't we?" He asked her with an air of resignation as he cycled the action of his MA37, chambering a round as he looked out from around the corner. Zena recalculated the odds again, finding their chances of survival slim to none. "More than likely we will die on Reach." She said with what sounded to Jet as hopelessness and despair. Jet chuckled to himself "well it's better than not knowing what'll happen." He said as he inched his way around the corner cautiously.

 The acrid clouds and dust created from the carbonization of so many humans whirled around the still standing buildings and the remains of once living trees. Jet had learned long ago to ignore emotions that the stench of carbonized flesh and bone brought up, he had witnessed many wounds created by plasma weaponry during his career "Phantom inbound!" Zena chimed in.