The year is 2560, over a decade since the catastrophic attack on Reach. The UNSC continues to search through the vast emptiness of space, combing for any signs of life or remnants of their fallen colonies. Today, their mission is different—driven by a cryptic distress signal they received just days ago.
In the bridge of a weathered frigate, Commander Avery leans over his cockpit, eyes fixated on the holographic map that flickers before him. The map highlights several abandoned ships, long since picked clean of supplies. His jaw tightens in frustration.
"Where did it all go wrong?" Avery mutters, his voice heavy with irritation. "We've followed these coordinates for days, and all we've found are derelict shuttles, ripped apart inside and out."
Behind him, one of the co-pilots turns from the console, a sense of urgency in his voice. "Sir, I'm getting another distress call!"
"Patch it through," Avery orders, a knot forming in his gut. His face hardens, sensing something different this time.
As the message plays, the static is almost overwhelming, cutting in and out, masking whatever might be hidden within the noise. But then, beneath the crackling, shallow breathing becomes discernible—quick, labored, as though the speaker is on the verge of collapse. Then, just barely audible, a voice whispers through the interference: "B-312..."
A sudden chill grips the bridge.
A pilot whips his head towards the Commander, eyes wide with recognition. "B-312? Isn't that...?"
Avery nods grimly. "Yes... Noble Six."
Without hesitation, Avery barks orders. "Send out a message to a small fleet—get a team together and have them meet me at the command center. We're heading for Reach."
Before he can finish his sentence, one of the co-pilots is already at work, sending the request. The bridge buzzes with renewed energy, the air thick with tension. Something had survived Reach—a ghost from the past.
And now, it was calling them back.
Captain Avery signal one of the Marines and sent him a digital copy by swiping his hand in the air when the marine received it he then sprinted through the narrow corridors of the ship, his boots echoing off the cold metal floors. His task was clear: gather the best soldiers for the mission. After a brief search, he found three seasoned Marines—battle-hardened and reliable. But then he spotted someone else, someone different. She was sitting in the females locker room a new recruit caught his eye. She was a Spartan. Woah ugh sorry ma"am I'm the soldier said with a worry tone.
Her armor gleamed under the dim lights of the ship, making her stand out among the Marines. The iconic armor, a symbol of raw power and battlefield dominance, was unmistakable. She slowly looked at him. :is there a reason why you walked into the females locker room soldier?: she said as while standing she begins to walk over to him the thud of her boots silenced the room. The marine hesitated for a second, but something about her presence felt right. She would be needed for what was to come.
Sorry I'm sorry I'm just under orders from captain Avery he needs you at the bridge now.: she stands in front of him slightly towering the marine. Then with a swift motion she placed a hand on his shoulder and giggled. Well why didn't you just say that in the first place man. She gently left the room and headed out the door. The soldier let out a sigh of relief as he then followed her out.
Without wasting time, he gathered the group and sent them all to meet with the team at the command center, known on the ship as "Brick Team." The team had a reputation—they were the first ones called for the toughest assignments. This one, though, had a weight to it that none of them could ignore.
The marine entered the room where Commander Avery stood, overlooking a table covered with holographic maps and mission briefings. Avery glanced up as they approached, his expression unreadable but focused.
"Sir, I've got three Marines and a Spartan—new recruit," the marine announced, motioning toward the soldiers behind him. "I think they're the best we've got for this. What are your plans?"
Avery folded his arms, sizing up the team with a hard stare before shifting his attention to the Spartan. Her visor reflected the soft blue glow of the hologram, but she stood tall and silent, waiting for orders.
Oh how interesting I am eager to see your skill sets are
Alright so Avery's voice was firm. "We're heading to Reach to investigate a distress signal tied to Noble Six—B-312."
The room seemed to tighten with tension at the mention of Noble Six, the Spartan known for her legendary status and the fate of the last stand on Reach. The soldiers exchanged brief glances, fully aware of the gravity of that name.
Avery continued, his tone low but filled with resolve. "We've found the source of the signal, but Reach is hostile territory. Covenant forces still roam there, scavengers picking at what's left. We're going in small, fast, and quiet. This Spartan will lead the team on the ground."
The soldier with the scar on his cheek looked at the spartan then back at the captain and stepped forward. Sir, with all those respect, but why are we letting a Spartan beat the way this is my team these are my marines.. he said with irritation in his voice.
Petty officer Johnson are you questioning me if I were, you would shut up saddle up and get set for orders.
He gestured toward the Spartan, who gave a firm nod in acknowledgment.
"Brick Team will follow close behind, providing backup as needed. Our objective is simple: find out what's left of Noble Six and extract any data that could be of use. Whatever you find—whether it's a trap or the real deal—you bring it back."
The Spartan, still silent, took a step forward. Her presence alone was a reminder of what they were capable of, and what was at stake.
"Gear up and get ready," Avery ordered. "We drop in twenty."
The soldiers snapped to attention and left to prepare, but Avery remained in place, staring at the hologram of Reach. The echoes of the fallen still haunting the planet, and soon, they would face whatever ghosts remained. Lord please give us some hope
