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Hidden Threat: Chapter 1 - Briefing
Date: 10 February 2004, 12:23 AM
The Master Chief gazed out of the observation room into the limitless black of slipspace. Ever since the invention of the Shaw-Fujikawa engines, the UNSC's space program skyrocketed. Literally. Once enough ships were manufactured, people set out to build colonies. However, the human race expanded right into the Covenant armada. The Master Chief's career had changed, for the better. The Spartan was getting bored of fighting pirates and smugglers. The Covenant were the enemy he knew would be a good challenge.
With his enhanced sense of hearing, the Chief heard the whisper-quiet doors slide open a few meters behind. He snapped out of his thoughts, turned around and immediately snapped to attention. Before him was a tall man with a stern face, short brown hair and brown eyes. The man held his hands behind the small of his back, protruding his chest making him look intimidating, even to the spartan. And the man was. Captain Henry Carlson was a strong-willed man of incredible military strategy. He was the turning point in many grand space battles against the Covenant.
"At ease, Chief."
The spartan relaxed, but the bulk of his MJOLNIR armor made him look tense. Developed by Dr. Catherine Halsey, the green MJOLNIR armor was something else. Countless times it had saved the Chief and his Spartans. The armor enhanced the Chief's already superior strength, and provided him protection from what seemed hundreds of barrages of plasma fire. The Chief had been used to it protecting him for so long, when it seldom broke in combat, he felt open and vulnerable. He sometimes wondered how the marines did without.
"Chief, we're coming up on the Zeta Omicron system. I need you and your armor-assed spartans in the briefing room in five."
"Sir." The Chief exited the room after the Captain, and hauled it towards the guest quarters. Since the Chief and the other five Spartans were not regular crew of any UNSC ship, they got used to being transferred to many different vessels. His incredibly heavy armor clanked and thundered down into the hall floor panels step after step. Various crew members looked up from their papers and gawked in awe at the sight of the Master Chief. The spartan didn't like it, but understood. One woman dropped a load of file folders.
When he stepped into the cramped quarters, the Chief felt at home. Linda was perched without armor on top of her bunk changing every accessory on her sniper rifle. The relationship between a sniper and her weapon absolutely puzzled the Chief. Sam and Fred were totally absorbed in an arm-wrestling match. Sam seemed to be winning, though it was anyone's guess. Those two were both incredibly strong. Kelly and James were going over their weapons and equipment, testing to make sure there were no malfunctions. The Master Chief noticed many of the items, and remembered how they saved his armored ass.
Sam leapt off the bunk and snapped a salute, "Master Chief on deck!" Right as he did so, the spartans quickly came to.
"At ease, spartans." The Master Chief knew the spartans treated him as a superior. Though, in fact, he wasn't. They were the same age, had seen the most action, and had the same abilities. Dr. Halsey and CPO Mendez decided to make Master Chief squad leader because of his leadership capabilities. The spartans were his brothers and his sisters. Out of 75, few were left. "The captain has ordered us into the briefing room. The Master Chief paused, and blared, "MOVE!!!" As if the spartans were already super-fast, Kelly was a blur. She instantly got to the elevator and had to wait for the others. The Master Chief enjoyed testing them this way.
The Chief hit a button and the elevator lurched upward. Kelly seemed really pleased with herself and gloated in front of Sam, who finished last. Kelly thought of everything as a race, and the Chief liked her competitivity. The group exited the elevator and marched towards the briefing room. Fred and James were laughing about one of the spartans' previous missions. The two were at the point in the story where Kelly's visor malfunctioned when their story was cut short by a serious look from Captain Carlson inside the briefing room. All spartans saluted.
"At ease." As if the Captain's look could not be more dire, he spoke, "The patrol ship Endurance last sent report to Fleet HQ two months ago. We've not gotten word from them since. This is fairly normal out here, but the brass thinks the Covenant are up to something. Last week, Hercules came out here and were able to send a message alerting us to mass covenant activity in the system before it was blown up. They took scans, and it looks as if the Covenant are doing something on Zeta Omicron III. This is where we come in. I want you spartans to get down there, and take steps to stop whatever the fuck those Covie bastards are doing."
Fred stiffened, "Sir, based on what you say, it seems like there would be a load of ships in-system. With all due respect to your command abilities, how on Earth are you going to neutralize the ship threat?"
The Captain smiled. "This is the good part. Five other UNSC destroyers, including the Iroqouis are arriving with us. They should buy you some time to get down there. I know 5 destroyers are no match to 2 or more Covenant ships, but at least we can punch a few holes in them, before we retreat." The Captain paused. "If there are no other comments, I suggest you get suited up. We'll be in-system in thirty. Dismissed."
Hidden Threat: Chapter 2 - Exit Dropship
Date: 17 February 2004, 2:53 PM
1000 Hours, August 19, 2535 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Annihilator, traveling through slipspace
en route to Zeta Omicron III
The slapping sound made by the Master Chief's boots reverberated through the Annihilator's docking bay. It was just then that the Master Chief realized how big the room was. Near the end of the monstrous hangar, a couple of Longsword fighters sat, waiting to be deployed at a moment's notice.
In front of him, four Pelican dropships were busily being repaired. To the right, in a small room, about ten Warthogs lay in silence.
The Master Chief continued on to the black-coated Pelican. Several technicians and his Spartans were hastily making repairs, or rather upgrades. Sparks flew from the other side of the ship, but the Chief couldn't see what they were coming from. He smiled as he approached Sam and James, who looked like they were adding a twin chaingun to the Pelican's starboard wing.
"What's going on?"
James spoke first, "We're upgrading the Pelican's arsenal. According to Captain Carlson, a Pelican is not going to last long in the upcoming fight."
Sam added to James' assessment, "Fred and Linda are welding more armor plating around the hull." The Chief nodded. Sure enough, he saw Fred clamber onto the Pelican's roof as Linda chucked a blowtorch at him. Fred immediately turned it on, and set to work. "Also, Kelly is-" As if by cue, a rumbling behind the Chief made him turn around. Kelly was in the driver's seat of a Warthog. Or was it a Warthog? They don't usually come with a pair of neatly mounted fuel rod cannons.
Kelly's voice was clearly heard above the Warthog's rumbling thanks to the COM. "-is mounting, or should I say, has mounted, a pair of fuel rod cannons to our M12LRV Warthog. I guess the Office of Naval Intelligence spooks wants to field test the 'far superior' Covenant technology. Or maybe they don't even know how to work the damn things, and want us to figure it out." All the Spartans laughed. It was well known that the ONI are rivals of Dr. Halsey. They raced to create a weapons program better than the Spartan project. The Chief stepped out of the way, and Kelly neatly aligned the Warthog with the clamp on the Pelican's underside. She jumped out and ran to the cockpit. A moment later, the Warthog attached to the Pelican and was secured.
The Chief welcomed the alterations. Even if they were captain's orders. Sam and James didn't even pause what they were doing to talk. The Chief saw no hesitation as his Spartans worked. They made decisions so quickly, it seemed as if their brains processed as fast as a supercomputer.
The Master Chief was about to join in the commotion, when the elevator opened up to reveal 6 marines. They stepped out and started towards the Spartans.
The leader spoke, "which one of you is the Master Chief?" The Chief stepped forward. The marines responded with a crisp salutes. "Sergeant Jennaro reporting for duty."
"Relax, Sergeant. What do you want?"
"The Captain told us to accompany you on your mission." The Master Chief frowned behind his helmet. Marines would just hamper he and his teammates. Well, he might as well put them to use.
"Okay marines, you can start by helping us with repairs." As everyone turned to work, an unannounced explosion rocked the deck and knocked him off his feet. He saw Fred fly off the dropship and his MJOLNIR armor make a dent in the metal floor of the docking bay.
A frantic voice opened up on his COM. "Chief, we've reached Zeti Omicron III. Our sensors indicate....Lt., what do our sensors say....there's readings of some type of facility on the planet. We'll make a slipspace jump out-system. We'll contact you at 1400 hours tomorrow. You better get off this shi-" An explosion occurred on the other end, and the COM signal diffused into static.
The Chief opened his COM and addressed his teams. "Let's move out!" The Master Chief, Fred, Kelly, Sergeant Jennaro, Privates Fitzgerald and Green jumped in the modified Pelican. Linda, Sam, James and the other marines took one of the regular dropships. The Chief took a seat as Kelly thundered the engines and closed off the loading drop ramp.
Fred turned to him. "Chief, what do you think we'll find down there?"
"I couldn't begin to guess. Let's just hope that there'll be loads of Covenant to kill." The Chief brought back to memory the repairs. "Fred, how many upgrades did you finish?"
Fred replied, "Sir, we mounted a second pair of chainguns on the wings. Linda and I also finished plating the port and starboard sides of the hull. And, as you saw, Kelly made some modifications to the Warthog as well."
A sudden lurch and continuous roaring told the Master Chief that the Pelicans had taken off. The Pelicans soared over the Longsword fighters and exited the docking bay.
The Chief flicked his COM on, "Kelly, upload the external cams to my HUD."
"Uploading now, Master Chief." As she said that, the center of the Chief's vision was cut off by an endless black. As the Pelican dove towards the planet, the Chief saw the battle. Streams of plasma fire shot out towards the UNSC ships. The lines of blue-white pierced holes in the ships, explosively decompressing the immediate parts of it. It was then that the Master Chief saw what the explosion over his COM caused: the bridge of the Annihilator was gone. Fire erupted around the edges. The Chief saw the shut bulkheads that cut off the ship's interior from the vacuum of space.
But that didn't stop it. Engineering must've routed the bridge controls to their control.
Fire erupted around the UNSC force, but the captains wouldn't give up without a fight. Hundreds of Archer missile pods volleyed into the covenant lines. The subsequent explosions revealed the silvery-white shields enveloping the Covenant ships. The obstruction flickered and died away. The Covenant were open to another probable round of Archer missiles. The second barrage arced away towards the enemy. Multiple explosions raced through the ships like a string of detonating landmines. A couple of ships lost power, and started a deadly spiral into the planet's atmosphere. Then the Chief saw it: a single bluish-white line speeding madly towards the dropship.
The plasma missile raced hungrily through space like a young child going for the dessert bar. A single plasma missile was almost always deadly to a single Pelican dropship. The Master Chief watched ionized gases sizzle as the plasma sped a path right into an unlucky Longsword fighter.
Most of the fighter melted on impact, showering the nearby Pelican with superheated metal. Globules of melting metal landed harmlessly on the armor plating. The Master Chief cautiously strapped himself in, just in case this turned into a zero-g mission.
Longsword fighters were engaged in heated dogfights with the Covenant seraphs. The Pelicans joined in the fight, spraying fighters with chaingun rounds. Some punched holes in their hulls, decompressing them and killing the pilots inside. One unlucky bastard flew straight into a plasma battery. Fire engulfed the Longsword tailing it. A fighter positioned between the modified Pelican and the nearby ship was shot down. It inherently flew into the dropship's trajectory. Kelly dove and rolled, corkscrewing the Pelican to avoid the danger.
Kelly turned back hard, rolling the dropship into a path leading towards a Covenant frigate. Plasma streaked by inches from the altered Pelican's hull, then abruptly stopped. The Chief recognized what was happening: the plasma turrets on a Covenant vessel weren't able to turn fully inward, exposing a blind spot. Very clever, and daring on Kelly's part. If one of those plasma missiles hit the dropship, UNSC crews would have to figure out how to pry MJOLNIR armor from a warped dropship.
The COM unleashed a yell, "Chief, this is Commander Clark, get outta there! We're launching MAC rounds!" It must've been an open channel, because Kelly pulled back on the yoke, almost slamming into the Covenant ship. Fire shot out from the Covenant frigate at odd angles towards the two dropships.
On his HUD, the Master Chief could see the Covenant fleet. Several MAC round catapulted away from the UNSC force. MAC or Magnetic Accelerator Cannon rounds, in essence, were gigantic bullets, launched at amazing speeds towards the enemy. Most of the time, a single one could cut a ship in two. The first round slammed into the nearest Covenant ship with tremendous force. A sickening crunch accompanied the huge hole dug by the enormous slug. The rear off the ship was broken off, shooting metal debris towards the Pelicans. The Pelicans sped away unscathed towards the planet.
The rest of the MAC barrage was met with three times the number of plasma fire. Plasma connected with some of the rounds, and melted them into nothing. The rounds that did make it through slammed into the Covenant onslaught, lowering their shields and punching gaping craters into them. One round obliterated a Covenant fighter and continued along it's path into the center of a Covenant cruiser, taking out it's bridge. Blue-white fire made drew lines through the space between the two forces. UNSC ships were literally fried with the ensuing fire. Those ships that weren't disabled including the Annihilator, made a run for it, jumping into slipspace.
The battle was interrupted by the sudden burst of white fire from the first Covenant frigate. The fusion reactor overloaded, turning the ship into a mini supernova. Since the Covenant fleet was tightly grouped, the ships boxing in the frigate were eaten by the blinding light. The outermost ships safely made it out of the maw, but those was few in number. The explosion ringed out and chased the dropships. The other Pelican managed to negotiate a safe path through the deadly turbulence, but Kelly didn't pull up fast enough. The ring hit the dropship and violently shook it. The Master Chief and the occupants were thrown from their seats. The dropship was shoved into an awkward roll.
Kelly jerked and pulled the yoke around, compensating for the ship's sudden lurch, but it was too little, too late. Gravity took control, and the Pelican was pulled towards the atmosphere, and almost certain doom.
Hidden Threat: Chapter 3 - The Plunge
Date: 22 February 2004, 11:36 PM
1021 Hours, August 19, 2535 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Pelican Dropship Chi 258,
in Zeta Omicron III's atmosphere
The Master Chief pulled himself up, surveying his team. His Spartans were fine, protected from the fall by their MJOLNIR armor, but the marines were not so lucky. Sergeant Jennaro and Private Fitzgerald appeared unconscious, and Private Green suffered from a leg wound. The Chief knew he needed immediate medical attention, but it didn't look like the marine would even survive the plunge. The Spartan was saddened by this: if only the Captain hadn't made the last-minute order, the marines would be out of harm's way. The Spartans strapped the marines in, and did the same for themselves.
Kelly's voice came over the COM. "Chief, I can't regain control, it's locked in a flip!" The Chief looked at the footage from the external cameras. The sky of Zeta Omicron III swirled around, turned to horizon, then ground, then horizon again, and back to sky. Sure enough, the feeling his stomach was experiencing concurred with the sensors.
The Master Chief had to come up with something, and fast, before the dropship slammed into the planet's surface. He skimmed through his memory of emergency Pelican maneuvers, but couldn't come up with anything, plus, he didn't have this experience to come up with a formidable solution. Wait, he had a plan. The Chief magnetized his armored boots. A clank came with his foot being pulled towards the floor. The Chief unstrapped himself, and moved up to the cockpit. The door slid open, followed by Kelly's voice, "You better have a plan, Chief. I'm not exactly in the mood for small talk."
"We're getting off this dropship. All of us."
Private First Class Adrian Clark looked through the cockpit window. The other Pelican dropship was flipping madly through the atmosphere. Fire streaked across the hull, making the armor plating warp the ship it was neatly grafted onto.
He was lucky his dropship wasn't knocked about by the explosion's ring, or else they'd be in the same position as the Chi 258. His COM button ominously flashed, removing him from his thoughts. He pushed it.
A female voice yelled over the COM, "Chi 255, this is Chi 258, we're going to jump! We need you to pick us up after we do." Adrian understood. If they parachuted, there would be no way to save the Pelican. It would plummet and crater into the ground.
"Roger that Chi 258, ready when you are." Adrian gunned the engines, and shot his dropship off towards the flipping Pelican.
The Master Chief pulled four parachutes out of the side compartment and gave one to each soldier. Except for Private Fitzgerald and Sergeant Jennaro, each marine would be able to pull this off. Maybe.
The Chief strapped his parachute tightly onto his armor. He wasn't sure the weight of the MJOLNIR armor would allow the chute to function. With caution in his mind, he turned towards Green.
"Can you handle jumping with that leg, Private?"
Green looked taken aback. "Sir, I was ready for this type of situation. I can handle it." The Private grimaced however, as he stood up. The red spot on his thigh dilated.
The Chief keyed his COM. "Kelly, you're getting off this thing, too."
"Of course, just setting the controls to autopilot." Kelly stepped out of the cockpit with her chute on, easily pulled up the sergeant, and stepped towards the troop bay hatch. Fred grabbed the limp body of Private Fitzgerald, and readied himself as well.
The Chief hit the hatch release. The huge metal door opened up, and the explosive decompression yanked the soldiers from the dropship. The Spartans and marines thrown upwards and started to fall towards the ground. It appeared the Chief opened the hatch while the Pelican was nose down. The Pelican's occupants were about five hundred meters from the ground.
If the Pelican wasn't already on a death trip, it certainly was now. The decompression pushed the dropship, and made it flip faster.
Air tugged on the Chief's backpack, and he realized what he should be doing. He pulled the ripcord next to his left strap, and the chute opened up above him. The recoil from the sudden slowing snapped his head back. He looked to his sides, and saw three other parachutes lowering their users towards the ground.
The Chief seemed to be accelerating towards the grouping of trees rising up to meet him. The MJOLNIR armor must be too heavy for the standard-issue marine parachute. He took a look at the two other Spartans, and noticed they were moving as quickly as he was.
Fred's voice came over his COM. "Uh, Chief, we seem to be in trouble."
The rumbling of large engines stimulated his eardrums, and drowned out Fred's voice. He looked behind, and saw the Pelican arcing towards him. It lowered and the Chief was practically on top of it, save for a few meters. It rose slowly, and he heard his boots clank on the Pelican's back. Realizing what the pilot wanted, he touched a button on his boots, and they secure themselves to the dropship's hull. A tug on his chest suggested that he get rid of his chute. He unstrapped himself, and the parachute rocketed away behind him.
The Pelican turned, and approached the other two Spartans. With a little more difficulty, they landed safely on the dropship as well.
As soon as he locked himself in place on the hull, Fred turned to the Master Chief. "Surfs up, dude."
"What's that, Spartan?"
"Uh, surfs up, sir!" The Chief smirked behind his visor. Fred's weak attempt at humor made him smile, but this wasn't the time and place for it. They still needed to get Private Green. The Private was slowly floating towards the ground, but with that bad leg off his, after he landed, he wouldn't be able to help the other marines out on their mission.
The dropship neared the private, and rose up to meet him. The marine's boots knocked against the Pelican. The marine was jostled around by updrafts. Without any magnetic sealing, he wouldn't be able to hold on.
"Green, you're going to have to get rid of your chute."
"No offense sir, but I think that's a bad idea."
The Chief didn't have time for this. His patience turned to anger, "Marine, you will unstrap yourself. I will catch you. Do it, that's an order!"
The private hesitated, but released his pack. It flew off, and he fell towards the Pelican. The Chief held out his arms, and the marine landed perfectly in them. The Spartan didn't so much as flinch. A two-hundred pound marine was a fraction of what the Chief could lift.
The marine looked into the golden visor. "Uh, thanks sir. I think."
The Spartans helped the marines into the troop bay, and the Chief marched to the cockpit.
Adrian sat at the controls. His hands were doused in sweat. He didn't even think he could pull it off, but the three thumps that shook through the Pelican told him he did.
The cacophony of metal hitting metal sounded through the troop bay. He knew it was probably the Master Chief, so he stood up and turned to face the cabin door. It slid open, revealing a two-meter tall figure clad in dented green armor. He didn't want to know how much that weighed.
The man behind the golden visor spoke to him. "Private, that was some nice flying back there. It was a good thing you were there watching."
"Well, sir, you ordered me to pick you up, so I-"
The Chief cut him off. "It doesn't matter. Good job." The Spartan walked past him and looked at the controls. "I want you to land near the downed Pelican, and then proceed to these coordinates."
Adrian looked to where the metal-covered finger was pointing, and acknowledged the order. "Yes sir." Adrian watched the Chief sit back down, and positioned himself at the controls. He pulled the stick to the right, and sighted his view to where he thought the doomed dropship landed. Indeed, there it was, in the middle of a field. It had dug a crater in the earth with it's nose. Smoke billowed from the Pelican, and it was charred all along the sides like it entered the atmosphere at the wrong angle.
He eased his Pelican near it, and left with the Spartans and marines investigate the site. When they neared the site, it reeked of smoke and burning metal. The Spartan next to him said something to the Chief. "Do you think the warthog works?"
The Chief walked into the burning cockpit and hit the warthog release. The modified jeep fell and landed next to the marines. It too, met the same fate as the dead dropship. The Spartan his HUD identified as Spartan-087 jumped in, and turned the ignition. Nothing happened at first, but a rumbling grew from inside the hood.
Spartan-087 jumped out and talked to the Chief. "Sir, the warthog is salvageable."
The Chief walked over to Adrian. "Private, I want you to attach the warthog to your Pelican."
"As ordered, sir." Adrian waited until everyone was on board, and backed his dropship against the wreckage, and hooked the warthog to the birdlike craft. He laid in the coordinates the Master Chief supplied him with, and leaned back in his semi-cormfortable chair. He was just about to take a nap, when a flashing red light alerted him. He sat up and glanced at his radar just long enough to silently agree with his suspicions.
He looked out his window. Sure enough, a group of elites were patrolling a ridge. When they heard the growl of the human dropship's engines, the upper-class Covenant soldiers fire their plasma rifles at the alien vessel. A bluish flash twinkled from the starboard wing. Those bastards were trying to take him down with their grenades.
Adrian pushed a button on his joystick, and twin fifty-millimeter chainguns opened up on the threat. Armor-piercing rounds punched holes through the elites' bodies. Flesh ripped and blood spilled out onto the cliff face behind them, colliding with the rock like paint on a mural. Those who didn't die kept firing resolutely. The Covenant commanders acted like machines, able to be turned on and off. Those who didn't know fear.
The thought of that reinforced his feelings. Adrian continued to shoot down the aliens. Until every last one of them was dead. Payback for the thousands already taken by the war. He hated them all.
The Master Chief jumped down from the Pelican. He surveyed the area. The LZ was situated in between two tree-covered hills, that eventually turned into mountains. He turned around and stepped aside.
His Spartans and the marines exited the dropships and walked towards a few rocks, where they laid down Private Green. A marine brought over a medical kit, and placed it next to the wounded soldier. He removed a canister of biofoam and ripped away some of the marine's pants. He hastily applied some of the healing solution to Green's left leg. Apparently, it was cut upon the dropship, as marked by a long gash. The other marine, the Chief identified as Corporal Rodriguez, was white from fear. Not fear of the enemy, but for his comrade's life. The only thing this mission needed to go south was a dead man, and the Chief didn't want that on his conscience.
When the substitue medic finished treating him, Green got up, and walked about. Since it looked like Green was going to be fine, the Chief started to formulate a plan. He analyzed the coordinates the Captain had given him, and uploaded a NAV point to everyone's HUD. Since the 'facility' was a few hundred kilometers away, they'd need to make a drop utilizing the Pelican.
One squad should execute a stealth mission into the facility. A few men will fly the Pelican around, for a distraction, and possibly to eliminate any air resistance. That facility would probably have a squadron of Banshees in wait. The rest would take the M12LRV and take out ground patrols.
But who should the Chief pick? He didn't want the marines to go alone, so at least one Spartan would accompany each team. Corporal Rodriguez, Private Fitzgerald, and James would take the modified warthog and destroy any air resistance. The rest of the crew would branch out into two groups. The Pelican team would be comprised of Private FC Clark, Private Green, Sam and Fred. Kelly, Linda, Sergeant Jennaro, Private Delaney, and he himself would operate the stealth mission.
He keyed his COM, "Spartans, marines, listen up. Green Team is James, Corporal Rodriguez, and Private Fitzgerald. Proceed to offer us any support on the ground you can come up with.
"Sam, Fred, Privates Clark and Green. You will accompany Red Team on the second Pelican, split with Red Team at the DZ, and destroy any air patrols.
Red Team is Kelly, Linda, Sergeant Jennaro, Private Delaney and myself. We will insert ourselves into the heart of the facility. Red and Blue teams will proceed at 0300 hours tomorrow. Blue Team will leave a while earlier. Got it?" Eleven acknowledgment lights winked on and off, signaling that everyone understood.
The Master Chief took a look around. The blue sky had darkened to black, and all the marines except Sergeant Jennaro and himself were asleep. Both of them were taking a look at the inventory. In front of the Chief were supplies he scrounged from the containers inside the Pelican.
One crate held about 25 clips for the MA2B assault rifles. Another was filled with medkits, and armor camouflage paint. The Chief grabbed the black, and he and the Sarge took turns painting their armor. Black would be an excellent choice for a night/early morning mission.
The Chief divided up the supplies between everyone, and set to work on his own sleep. Before he had a chance to relax, a crunching over in the brush alerted him. He looked at Sergeant Jennaro who, by his facial expression, heard it also. The Chief made the appropriate hand signals telling the Sarge to flank the threat's right. The Chief and the Sarge moved incredibly quiet, even with their heavily armored feet.
Both of them dove into the general position the noise came from, and tackled a human-sized figure. Probably an elite spy. They grabbed the enemy, dragged it into the clearing, and set it down. The Chief turned on his armor's headlights.
The Sarge voiced an expletive, "Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. Private, what the fuck were you doing in there?!? I coulda shot you, or had the Master Chief do it. And believe me, he does not miss."
Fitzgerald zipped up his pants. "Sir, I was, uh, taking a leak sir!"
"Next time you decide to take a leak, in the middle of the night, in the brush, tell me first so I don't decide to shoot you." The Sergeant seemed really pissed about it. Too pissed. The Chief didn't want bad feelings to arise right before a mission.
The Chief voiced his opinion. "Sergeant Jennaro, desist. Private, apologize to the Sergeant."
"Sir! I am very sorry Sir! It will not happen again, Sir!" The Private seemed to be extremely apologetic.
The Sergeant frowned at the Chief, but with the Spartan staring back at him, he couldn't hold his face for long. "It's okay, Private. Just, make it less inconspicuous. We mistook you for a Covie scout."
Both of the marines retired to their sleeping bags. The Chief decided that that was a good idea. He woke Fred to be guard, and plopped down on the grass. He gazed at the stars, and wondered how many of them the Covenant had taken away. Planets upon planets were being glassed, and he had to do something about it. He knew that, in due time, he would.
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