The Darkest Hour.


Chapter One:
The Day The World Ended . . .

Reck’ro sat upright, mouth partly open, while the dim lights of the room gave a soft glow. The briefing room was lined with steel beams and cold alloy plaiting. In the dark room, for many moments, not a sound was heard, other then the continuos gusting of the air circulation system. What Reck’ro just heard, he couldn’t believe, not a word, though it came strait from O.N.I., the intelligence he trusted so long, he still couldn’t grasp it. His orange skin paled, his bright eyes wide and open, the Jackal was completely disarmed, he realized, they had lost . . . The U.N.S.C. had failed, mankind was beaten, and the Covenant had unearthed The Ark and had pushed all of humanity to the breaking point. The war was over, mankind’s forces were ether in retreat, or more likely dead. Save for himself, and a few survivors from the final conflict. The Jackal didn’t know how badly they had taken the Covenant’s final push until it was laid out before him. His nanological network trying for all it was worth to assimilate and possess his thoughts and input, but were hard-pressed to deal with his emotions at this moment. He had always thought theywould win, the Covenant would fail, and somehow they would have a happy ending. But no, this was the terrible nightmare that now gripped him; They lost, the Covenant have the Ark, man kind’s only military force, now days from earth, and all they could do is wait. Wait for the Covenant to figure out how to use The Ark and kill them all. Reck’ro was so close, he saw it, he touched The Ark, he was there. But even he failed, and now everything he fought for, his freedom, his friends, his species, and even the memory of Kir’Rith seemed to be for nothing but ashes. All his effort, all his pain, it couldn’t be for nothing, he couldn’t let this happen, but there was nothing he could do . . .

Each O.N.I. agent was debriefed separately, and Reck’ro had been here for hours explaining himself. The officer looked at the Jackal calmly, his face unreadable. “Agent 2-31, Exile, there was nothing you could have done, you fought with all you had once they passed the Spartans. Spartan 014 even said he witnessed you kill twenty three brutes as they charged the Ark, even with the element of surprise and tactically placed explosives, do you know how incredible your record is Agent 2-31? You have probably killed more offending forces in you service in the U.N.S.C. then any Two Brutes put together! Not to mention you even tried to sacrifice yourself to destroy The Ark with that last pound of C-4 Specialist Rowell witnessed you plant on the face of The Ark just before he was shot.” The Agent exclaimed softly to the Jackal.

Reck’ro sighed lightly. “It’s a pity it wouldn’t go off. I made sure I set it correctly, and the detonator was charged. It just, wouldn’t go off . . . ” Reck’ro looked to the floor, obviously unable to tell why.

“Just, get some rest Exile, you and the rest of Special Force 37 deserve it, if anyone.” He dismissed Reck’ro, still using his code name out of habit.

Reck’ro stood, the metallic chair creaking in dull protest as he rose. Reck’ro knew the rest of Special Force 37 did as good as himself, but it did help to be reminded of his own accomplishments, even if it all seemed to be pointless as of now.

Reck’ro entered into the mess-hall, head lowered slightly to the ground. He felt as though he failed, not Special Force 37, but him. He could have stopped them from taking the Ark, but he messed up, some how. He replayed the last moments before his capture over and over, watching himself in his near crystal memory, enhanced and replayed by the nanites. He watched himself set the C-4, he saw it in his hands, like a movie, but more real. The sensation of the plastic explosives weighing on his hands, the wires, the detonator, his placement, and the switch. It was all perfect, as if rehearsed. He couldn’t see a single flaw, but he messed it up somehow, some way he failed to do what he needed, and to give his life to save the universe. It seemed selfish maybe, placing the blame on himself, but it was his plan, and his clawed hands that placed the final charge. And now, all he could do is sit and wait, on a small planet far from earth, or from where he was born. It was only fortunate, elites had ambushed their captors, and in the confusion Reck’ro convinced a Jackal to release him, saying that he would help to fight. Reck’ro in the end didn’t keep his word which left a mark of pain on the creatures face as he set the Spartans free and ran. What that Jackal didn’t know, was that Reck’ro had every intention of helping, but by opposing the Covenant and hopefully freeing his race from their slavery. It still hurt him, to have to see that Jackals face just before he was struck down. But there was nothing he could do. He was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar voice. He looked over to see Specialist Steven Marcus Rowell watching him, a calm smile on his face as he motioned the Jackal with him. He was healing up nicely, his bandages clean, rather then the blood soaked mess that he was by the time they got him in the infirmary. Spartan 014 also was seated there, though unlike Steven, he hadn’t touched any of his food, only looking into the cup of water in his hand, pondering their last battle. Reck’ro sat down next to Steven, the specialist sliding the Jackal a tray of food before attempting to start conversation.

"Well, this kind of sucks. 014, you been debriefed yet?"
The Spartan slowly nodded and stared deeply into his cup.
Steven looked at Reck'ro. The Jackal was quietly sipping from a cup of the supernourishing supplement nicknamed biogel.
"Look, we may have lost some faith here, but there's got to be something we can do! Did you ever talk to Vice Admiral Whitcomb? He gives you that Alamo story. Damned annoying sometimes, but right now..." He trailed off. He took a shuddering breath and continued more quietly. "Right now I think we can appreciate the relevance of that." He took a bite of his nutribar and downed a stimcap, then slammed his hand on the table in irritation as his arm began to feel wet and a rivulet of blood trickled from underneath his bandage. "And there goes my arm! I'll be right back."
He stepped up from the mess table and began the walk to the medical wing, a few meters down the back corridor. A door opened for him, and he entered the med wing.
Doctor McCoy looked up. The man lying on the table in front of him moaned.
"Rowell? You need something?"
"Fresh bandage, and a bit more biofoam."
The doctor retrieved a can of the healing substance, tore the bandage off of Steven's arm, and filled the wound with the anticoagulating spray. Quickly wrapping a new bandage tightly around his arm, McCoy patted it. "You're good, Specialist."
"Thanks, doc." Steven walked about halfway down the hallway before slamming into a wall. He smashed his fist against it as the tears ran down his face.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he cried. He stayed in that position until the waterworks turned off about five minutes later.
Hastily wiping his eyes, he sat down beside Reck'ro once more. He made an attempt at conversation.
"You, uh, you ever had-" he stopped and took a gulp of air. He exhaled slowly, and the quiver in his voice subsided. "You ever had a girlfriend, man?"
The Jackal looked up at him for a moment, then put his head on the table and wrapped an arm around it.
"Oh Christ, I'm sorry. Reck'ro, I'm really, really sorry."
The Jackal raised his head. "We're all sorry here."
014 finally took a long gulp from his biogel. "Yeah. Yeah, we're all sorry."
"Everyone's sorry here, but there's no time for that." The rough voice caused the team to look up.
Colonel Mitchell stood over them, his hands clasped behind his back. "Be sorry when you're dead, Marines. We've still got our chances here. I'm not allowed to talk about it-some ONI spook's nearby-but I'll see you personally in my office at 0500. Take as long as you want here-I'm sure you got a lot to talk about-but you all should eventually get some rest."
Steven turned to the Spartan. "You haven't said much. What's on you rmind, man?"
The team

Ghooj'lit looked around at his fleet of Banshees. They weren’t enough. How was he supposed to go make a Covenant incision with fifteen Banshees? He sighed and walked over to the first Banshee and reached inside to press a sequence of buttons and speak into a mic.



"Five minutes till Covenant incision people. Get ready."



Suddenly his Troops were all at their Banshees, firing test runs and checking engines for any signs of problems. Ghooj'lit could smell the sweet scent of burning fuel and knew that this was Troop 59067's last and best mission. They were going to fly in and attempt to get inside High Charity in order to plant a bomb on the energy core. He knew they would probably fail, and he knew it was useless. However, there was nothing else for them to do. This was the only way they would beat the Prophets loyal slaves.



"Alright Troop, let’s move out." Ghooj'lit yelled in a gruff voice.



Hearing the whine of fifteen Banshees start up Ghooj'lit climbed into his banshee. All of the Banshees lifted off in unison and followed the pre-planned trajectory through the atmosphere. Watching the flames bounce off the hull of the small craft Ghooj'lit wondered how far they would make it. Probably not even through the front door... Oh, well. It was a fitting end for such a good team.



The team flew in the silent, enveloping, darkness of space for a couple hours until a warning on Ghooj'lits monitor started to flash. He thumbed the mic.



"Warning, two U.N.S.C. Longswords debarking from a large Carrier class vessel named Pytherus. Do not, I repeat, do not fire upon enemy Longswords. All Banshees transmit a universal surrender signal." Ghooj'lit knew that there was no way of fighting off two Longswords. Their best chance was to plead their case, if they weren’t slaughtered. Why hadn’t the sensors detected the Carrier Vessel before? Whatever their predicament, all fifteen Banshees sat dead in space, transmitting surrender beacons repeatedly. Suddenly a human voice crackled thorough Ghooj'lits head set.



"This is the pilot of Longsword H331 U.N.S.C. ship. You will fly under our escort to docking bay 3 on the Pytherus and will surrender without a fight or you will be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. I am speaking on behalf of the U.N.S.C. Proceed."



Ghooj'lit realized he was holding his breath and exhaled slowly. Speaking into the com, he said



"We copy. All Banshees follow me in docking pattern Delta. You will all do EXACTLY what the humans say."



Ghooj'lits troop moved forward into the large chamber, closely followed by the two Longsword escorts and landed, waiting for the Bay doors to close and the area to pressurize before removing themselves from their Banshees. The Longsword pilots and four marines stepped out of the ships and aimed their guns on them.



"Put your weapons on the ground. All of 'em. We will not hesitate to blow your tiny brains out if you try anything stupid."



All of the Troop followed the orders without hesitation and lined up behind Ghooj'lit, glaring at their captors. The marine who had spoken before motion with his head for the grunts to move through a door that led into an electronic lift. The humans followed them in and pressed a button marked Command Center. Slowly the doors rolled close and Ghooj'lit felt inertia tickle his stomach as the machine move at an extremely fast rate. Suddenly the lift halted and the marines waited until the doors opened to give them a shove out. Ghooj'lit looked around at the room. The only lights were all red and cast an eerie glow on bulkheads position around a trapezoidal room. Every meter or so there was a marine stationed against the walls. Out of the space in front of the long window came and young intelligent looking woman...



"I am Captain Miranda Keys. Explain why you were headed strait for our ship."



Ghooj'lit stepped forward. "WE, were simply heading along our pre-planned path to do our mission. YOU, were invisible to our detectors until we picked up you Longswords."



"What is your mission?"



"We were on a strike mission to high charity to plant a bomb on its reactor. And it’s possible that we could have finished the mission."



This put the woman off for a moment. She looked the Troop over with renewed interest. "How do I know you are being truthful?" she asked.



"I guess you’ll have to trust me.”Ghooj'lit grinned.



"Not good enough," she spat and turned to the nearest marine, "take them to the other. He will know if they are truthful."





Several hours later Ghooj'lit found himself on a chair inside a room with two armed guards and an old man who was sitting behind a desk. One of the escorts who had dropped him off had called him Admiral. Ghooj'lit pondered on who this "other" could be. A fellow grunt? Maybe a captured elite. Neither of them seemed plausible. Then the door opened and a Spartan, a man and a Jackal entered the room. What a perplexing trio. He thought. The group stepped up to the desk giving Ghooj'lit strange looks and reported to the admiral.



"Sit down gentlemen. I would like you to meet our newest captive. He says that the band of... heh... grunts he was leading was on a mission to destroy High Charity. I count them lucky we found 'em first. What do you think Reck'ro?"



Ghooj'lits eyes widened and his head snapped towards the Jackal. "Reck'ro?"



The Jackal looked at him. "Yeah, why?"



Ghooj'lit tripped over his words as he tried to explain. "It-it-its me, Reck'ro, Ghooj'lit."



The Jackals eyes snapped out of the bored droop they had been in and surveyed his face identifying the pattern of scars engraved there.



"By god. It IS you."



Ghooj'lit nearly jumped with joy. Now that Reck'ro was here, everything would be fine.

Reck’ro looked at Ghooj'lit dumbfounded a moment. “Ghooj'lit?
Your still alive?” His face then took on suspicion as he looked
over Ghooj'lit’s face, his training within O.N.I. now making him
realize this might not actually be Ghooj'lit. “Where did we first
meet?” Reck’ro questioned.

Ghooj'lit looked stunned a moment, finding it hard to believe
Reck’ro was asking him these things. “Sajah’Hari, the Covenant
Laser Tech Facility. We beta tested weapons together, and where
you were the leading mind behind the D.U.C.L.O. Cannon.”
Ghooj'lit glared a bit a Reck’ro, still wondering why he was asking
these questions, Reck’ro did recognize him, didn’t he?

Reck’ro needed to know for sure this was actually Ghooj'lit, he had
to ask him something no one else would know. Something
Ghooj'lit would never tell anyone, even under penalty of pain and
death. With this in mind Reck’ro gave a sigh. “Ghooj'lit, I need to
ask you something important, trust me, don’t ask questions, just
answer me this question; In Zai of High Charity, before Kih’Sar,
who was the highest light?” Reck’ro finished, no one had any idea
what the Jackal was talking about, but most knew that was the
point.

Ghooj'lit was an exception to this, Kih’Sar was one of the early
Arbiters, he was responsible for the ‘in-listing’ of the grunts
into the Covenant. There were four others with him, it was a
common religious question taught to all Covenant at an early age,
Sir’Jal was call The Highest Light, for saving the Arbiter, Kih’Sar,
from the facility after using what he thought would be his last
breath to plant the bomb within the reactor to quell the grunts
forever, Kih’Sar had no strength left to make his way out. So
Sir’Jal fought his way into the facility and carried the downed
Arbiter from the base just before it was vaporized. The Arbiter
died from fatal wounds only minutes after they escaped, but Sir’Jal
was praised as a hero, being the only one who would return and try
to help the Arbiter in his darkest hour. But that couldn’t be what
Reck’ro was asking, there was something more to it, something
special. And that’s when he remembered, it was so simple! He
wasn’t asking about the religious test, he was asking if Ghooj'lit
remembered the last day they saw each other before the war, prior
to Reck’roes defection. During that day, Reck’ro commented, that
he met someone, someone special, someone who he called his
own, lighest light. “K-Kir’Rith.” Ghooj'lit stuttered, his voice low
and trembling slightly from the stress.

“What?” Reck’ro asked, leaning closer, his eyes narrowing in
shock and disbelief.

“Your, your highest light, was Kir’Rith. You told me that day in
Zai, when we shared a drink in honor of our final days of freedom,
before we were shipped of again to rejoin the military. You told
me, that you met a Jackal named Kir’Rith, and she saved your life.
And from then on, you called her your highest light. You
referenced it to that old Arbiter story, the one where Sir’Jal saved
the Arbiter Kah’Sar from a grave-less death. You said that you felt
Kir’Rith deserved the same honor for saving you from Tal'dar.”
Ghooj'lit looked up at Reck’ro, hoping this would be enough to
convince him.

Reck’ro remained stunned a moment, the rest of the room now
realizing the sensitivity of the conversation remained silent.
Reck’ro then turned toward the admiral. “Admiral, I believe this
grunt to be Ghooj'lit, the leader of Grunt Troop 59067, the ones
who I helped lead an attack against a covenant capital ship and
detonate it. him and his outcast group were against the Covenant
when I last left them, and I see no reason why they would have
rejoined them. I recommend them as members to the U.N.S.C..
And I believe they will be a valuable asset to our ranks.” Reck’ro
now vouching for the Grunt, the admiral looked upon them in,
again, a new light.

Steven shook his head. "I don't know; a Grunt? Let's see his credentials."
A technician who stood nearby sadi, "Sir, we don't keep Covie credentials."
Steven fixed him with a glare as piercing as a D.U.C.L.O Cannon, and the man sped away.
"He won't be back for awhile. Anyways, I wanna know where you guys are packin' this bomb. I wanna see this fucker."
014 put a hand on his forehead. "You can't use the bomb, Specialist."
Steven swung his arm in an "aw, shucks" motion and sat down. "So, he's joining our squad now?"
Reck'ro nodded. "Ghooj'lit is an extremely qualified soldier, having worked with famous Grunts like Nis'kari and has done extensive duty with one of the Arbiters."
Steven cocked his head. "Arbiter?"
014 turned to him. "An arbiter is a guardian; extremely pious and combat-qualified Elites became Arbiters, and some of them helped to keep the Covenant in line. The Hunter Rebellion, and the Taming of the Grunts."
Ghooj'lit snickered. "It's the other way around. Grunt Rebellion, Taming of the Hunters."
"Whatever. Arbiters were really good Elites."
Steven shrugged. "Oh. Anyways, we've got about a half an hour before Colonel Mitchell wanted us to see him." He frowned, then stood up and extended his hand to Ghooj'lit.
"Welcome to the squad."
The Grunt smiled, and the rest of the squad nodded in approval.
Colonel Mitchell stuck his head in the door. "Goddammit, Marines! Don't you know when Colonel Mitchell gives you a time, you better be there early? Double time! Let's go!"
It was a bit of a run to Mitchell's office. Along the way, the squad noticed things happening in the ship. They passed a glass window. Inside, somebody was test-firing what looked like a small rifle. Bigger than a submachine gun, but smaller than an assault rifle.
Steven pointed them out. "Those're M43 Combat Carbines; I helped design those at Ymir. They fire standard shredder rounds; more powerful than a submachine gun, but less powerful than an assault rifle. The compact design allows them to be used wherever and whenever; we intended them for raids into Covenant structures."
014 smiled. "That has to be the smartest thing you've said yet, Rowell."
Steven grinned. "Just because I'm cocky doesn't mean I'm not smart. Besides, I'm always smart when it comes to guns. Ever heard of a needler pod launcher?"
The Spartan shook his head.
"I didn't think so."
They arrived at Colonel Mitchell's office. Three chairs were pulled up, and a technician delivered a fourth as they entered.
The squad sat down, and Mitchell entered. He sat down heavily behind a dark cherry desk, lit a cigar, and began to tell the squad what their mission was.

Colonel Mitchell cleared his throat as the members of Special
Force 37 took their seats. “Alright, now we all know the U.N.S.C.
and even all of man kind is in a pretty sad state with the recent
victory on our own world by the Covenant animals.” Mitchell
spoke, his voice edged with disdain. Reck’ro felt a little awkward,
as he was in the eyes of many, still covenant. Mitchell realized
this only too late. “No offence Reck’ro.” He offered plainly
before he continued. “But even now the U.N.S.C. is focused on
the preservation of not just humanity, but of every living thing
within our galaxy that the Covenant, and The Ark now threaten to
destroy. And now we have a plan to strike back. And we will
require the best of the best only, and that means your team.”
Taking a moment the Colonel taped a number of keys inlayed in
his desk, and a monitor flickered to life behind him. Mitchell then
stepped aside before continuing. “O.N.I. and the U.N.S.C. have
come together to make up a plan of attack, if the universe will die
this day, or the next, man kind is determined to not go out without
a fight!” Mitchell clenched his fist with these words, every
syllable manifested a long dead hope within the group as they
watched the screen scroll data prior to displaying an image of a
Covenant scout class jump-ship. “Together, O.N.I.. And the
U.N.S.C. have devised a series of tactical strikes on nearby
Covenant search ships. We are very low on fighting men on this
day. Our forces are made up of only five-hundred and thirty men
and women. And that is barely enough to keep up with our twin
Long-Swords, the Pytherus, and any small fighter craft we have
left. Leaving us with practically no one to accompany you on any
of your missions. Our upcoming mission will require you to take
control of a Covenant Jump Ship, which is shown here.” Mitchell
gestured to the monitor. “It is now searching for our ships on a
nearby moon. Now with the Pytherus’s advanced cloaking system,
compiled of Forerunner materials salvaged from the first Halo,
combining this with revolutionary Hybrid technology, composed
of Human, Covenant, and even Forerunner electronics and
material, allows the Pytherus to be ‘cloaked’ to such an extent
that deep space radar and other forms of electronic, and even
visual detection are near useless to detect us. The only problem is
that because of the massive impact the field takes on the
Pytherus’s reactor, we are required to shut down other systems all
across the ship, and even tap the docked Long-swords reactors for
the necessary power it takes to maintain this field, leaving us
unable to attack while cloaked, save for sending fighter craft, and
other such small vessels. The Covenant has no idea we have this
technology, and that gives us the advantage. The status of our
Covenant Elite allies, or any others affiliated with them is still
unknown, and we have yet to hear from them. We do however
have a small number of elites with us here, and they will
accompany you on this next mission. They are critical to the
success of these missions, so don’t let them get killed.” The
Colonel took a drink of water from a glass on his desk before
continuing. They viewing screen now displaying a map of the
current solar system they were now in, and a small representation
of a Covenant scout class jump-ship behind a nearby moon.
“Now, prior to your mission the Pytherus will attempt to move
close to the Jump ship, so close in fact that standing on the hull of
the ship, one could simply jump onto the enemy ship, rather then
using a vessel to board it. Now I know our Spartans have suitable
armor to survive the void of space, but Reck’ro will need
something different. And I do believe the Grunts armor is suitable
for the void as well? If not, talk to the equipment manager to
provide you with suitable equipment for this mission. Now, as for
Reck’ro, the U.N.S.C. has put together something special for you
from the remains of your old Covenant, special operations armor,
I think you’ll like it. Now, the key to this mission will be, using
magnetic hand, and knee pads, to scale the ship and sabotage its
external communications system, via a five-hundred foot acrylic
panel located here.” The monitor then changed, displaying the
target, as well as the estimated drop off point. “Once disabled,
one f you will radio the Pytherus and proceed to try to enter the
craft through an open airlock ship bay here. Its believed the
Covenant are awaiting a search craft to return to this bay, so we
will have to be quick, once you secure this bay, quietly, radio us
and we will send in some backup, in the form of a Talon 9971-
A.” The monitor then changed displaying its specifications, Krayt
remembered this monster well, a bipedal, mobile mechanized
weapons platform, containing state of the art firepower and
computer target recognition system, though as the Spartan recalls,
the Talon’s common sense was a bit lacking in some areas, not to
mention it was kind of slow on picking up targets. But he must
admit, once it got around to finally fighting, it was a force to be
reckoned with. And was even seen to win a fight against a hunter
and a whole unit of elites and grunts in its past. “Now, once the
Talon meets you inside, you will then fallow this path to the
Habitual/Atmospheric Manipulation Systems and insert a canister
of bio-toxins that will kill any unprotected crew members, leaving
only those who are equipped in air tight armor, as the Bio-toxin
can also be introduced through the skin, as well as the repertory
system, and will be spread in vapor form. You will be expecting
to meet heavy resistance until you complete this segment of the
mission, then after that you should only face an occasional
obstacle all the way to the bridge. Then from there you can detect
any remaining forces and ether hunt them down, or seal off the
sections they are in and keep them prisoner. Once you have
secured the bridge, the team of Elites will be deployed in
preparation of operation two. And Ghooj'lit, your unit will be
staying behind on this one, except you. Now get ready, and good
luck . . . ” With that, Colonel Mitchell gave them a salute and sent
them to get prepped for the mission.

Reck’ro entered the Locker Room, and searched the metal doors
for his name. Once he located his locker, he punched in his seven
digit combination code and soon the locker yielded with a
metallic click to reveal a suit of black armor. The chest plate was
angular and sturdy, insolation and padding on the inside made
sure he wouldn’t freeze in the dark depths of the void, and would
protect him from impact damage. The suit was power assisted and
featured a Jackal wrist shield built into the left arm, and varius
small red lights were inlaid dormantly on each major piece of the
armor. They were too small and dim to be noticed from a
distance. But were instead used to check the operational status of
each major compartment of the armor, if all lights are on, then the
armor is capable of preserving life within from the void, so they
were very important. The suit also has a standard covenant active
camouflage generator, and enough compressed air to last him
eight hours. The helmet had a visor across the upper face to allow
Reck’ro to have a full view of the surrounding area. The lack of
light within the mask, and the tinted overlay on the visor kept
even his bright eyes from showing through, save for a dim glow.
The last feature was a wrist mounted control panel that allowed
Reck’ro to interface with computer technology just as his
standard wrist computer. He then equipped the armor, which was
very heavy. Once in he activated the power assist servos and felt
the weight of the suit lift from him. He then looked through the
tinted visor upon the armors taloned hands and gave a grin, it fit
perfictly, even though it looked too much like his old uniform for
his liking. Arming his D.U.C.L.O. Cannon and sliding his pistol
into a side holster on the armor he knew the others would join
him shortly once they were properly equipped. In the moments of
silence he gave a sigh. ‘This is for you my highest light, my
Kir’Rith . . . ’

Ghooj'lit nodded at the marine and stepped through the Locker Room door. Looking around he saw Reck'ro standing in his suit on the other side of the chamber. Striding to his friend Ghooj'lit noticed the droop of his head and the listlessness of his arms. Stopping in front of the Jackal Ghooj'lit tried to see his eyes through the dark visor but was not rewarded. Slowly Reck'ro sat down and sighed deeply. Ghooj'lit sat down beside him and waited.

"She should be here to help us," the Jackal said lowly, "I wish you could have met her, Ghooj, you would have liked her sense of humor."

Ghooj'lit sat for a moment in silence. "I know. I still remember what you told me about her through all those drinks so long ago."

"I think, Ghooj, that this will be my last mission. I cant go on without her much longer."

Suddenly Ghooj'lit grabbed the Jackal violently and slammed him against the lockers. Reck'ro looked up at him, surprised by his old friends actions.

"You will not give up." Ghooj'lit said, staring into the visor, knowing those big eyes were staring back. "You will not insult her memory by stopping the fight right here. You lost something all those years ago, but that does not excuse you from your duty to your race or to Kir'Rith. You once told me that you gave up once before. In that moment, when the flood were closing in on you, she saved you. Doesnt that tell you something? Doesnt that mean something? She is not here to save you from your self pity now. You have to fight in her name, and dont let her rescue go in vain. Because if you give up now, then there was no use in her going back for you. You will have wasted all that she did for you." A dead silence hung in the room and Ghooj'lit released the Jackal and watched him slide to the ground. Ghooj'lit held out his hand, "Are you going to help me win, dear friend, and give her peace?"

Reck'ro looked up at the Grunt and stared his pain in the face for the first time since Kir'Rith died. Ghooj'lit could tell that a great battle was waging in the Jackals mind. The outcome was not for him to guess. Then, as Ghooj'lit was about to give up, Reck'ro reached up and grasped his hand. Ghooj'lit pulled the Jackal into a hug.

"We will make them pay Reck, they will suffer for it."

"Yes, they will."

Spartan-014 entered the locker room. Ghooj'lit and Reck'ro were hugging. A hug of friendship that only true friends could give each other. He smiled to himself, and proceeded on to his locker. His locker approached, and an annoying light overhead continued to flicker on and off. Krayt punched in his 7-digit code, grabbed the locker door, and slowly opened it. Inside on the top shelf were boxes full of ammunition for both his CRNS Nightstalker and his Angelraiser Sniper Rifle. Krayt grabbed a handful of both ammo types, and carefully inserted them into his pack that he had lain on the floor. He also grabbed the guns themselves, loading a full clip of ammo into them and placing them on the bench behind him. Looking across the wide locker room hallway, Krayt noticed that Reck'ro and Ghooj'lit had left. He picked up the pace. Quickly grabbing his duel M6C modified Magnum pistols, he inserted them into their rightful holsters on his legs. He also grabbed the two combat knifes he always carried around with him. They could be useful in a pinch. They were placed on their rightful holsters near the foot on both legs. Last, but certainly not least, Krayt grabbed a handful of fragmentation grenades, and placed them into his pack as well. He closed the large locker door, and strapped his pack onto his back. He attached the Sniper Rifle onto a side holster on the pack, and picked up the Nightstalker. My favorite weapon. Krayt looked through the PPS zoom scope to make sure it still worked, and to his luck, it did. Letting out a deep sigh, Spartan-014 made the treck towards the door of the locker room, and prepared himself for another battle...

Steven sighed and punched in his locker code. Inside was an M6C pistol and the love of his military life, the M270 Railgun. He hugged the hammergun to his chest and smiled. Anytime he got to spend with her was quality time.
His armor was there, but modified. Instead of desert-camo, it was painted black and gray for the vacuum. The helmet sealed completely and provided oxygen for up to two hours, an unheard-of amount of time.
ONI's really busting their balls for this mission, he thought. He stepped into the armor, and as it conformed to his body, he holstered his magnum and clutched the hammergun.
The new Grunt and Reck'ro were hugging in the corner, and Steven smiled and shook his head. Nothing like bonding time before a mission.
Another locker, one for the team, held the magnetic equipment for their suits and individual emergency thruster packs, in case they were needed. The heat signatures would be recognized by Covenant systems, but built in radar spoofers and jamming systems would ensure the Covies thought the signatures were their recon probes.
Steven opened what he called his "backup locker", which held one of each of the weapons he had helped design, which meant that the locker held an M74 MPHCAW, an M43 Combat Carbine, and a PMW Personal Mortar Weapon.
Steven grabbed the M43 and slung it on his back; it would provide decent stopping power when the railgun ran out of ammunition.
He looked around. Spartan-014 was examining his special sniper rifle, which Steven liked. It would be good to have pinpoint fire support on a mission where there was little to no intel except what Cortana had submitted to ONI on the Truth and Reconciliation, and even that only described the general layout of Covenant ships, not a jump ship.
Reck'ro was cycling his DUCLO Cannon, and the Grunt's weapons were hanging at his sides. They appeared to be a plasma rifle and a plasma pistol, but the Grunt was not what he seemed, so Steven figured no less about the diminutive alien's weapons.
He cycled the bolt of the railgun, did the same to the carbine, and slung a handful of clips on his combat harness. When he looked up, the aliens had left and 014 was walking out. Steven held the hammergun tight and left the locker room, following the others to where he presumed they would meet the Elites.

Special Force 37 soon lined before Colonel Mitchell, whom
was just before the airlock access door. “Alright.” Mitchell
started. “I am going to give you one last over view of the
mission, just so you have it all strait, so pay close attention!
You will jump out of this air lock, scale the hull of the enemy
jump ship. Find the communications uplink panel at nav-point
alpha. Allow Reck’ro to insert a systems glitch to keep the
covenant busy. And while they are all busy working out this
systems glitch, Reck’ro will then disable the ships long range
communications. After this is done, you will proceed to nav-
point beta where you will enter the ships open hanger bay. If
done right, this glitch should keep the Covenant unaware of
your presence.
you then will make your way to nav-point
zeta, only fifty yards from beta. And there you will allow
Reck’ro to interface with a terminal there, once this is done, no
short range communications will function on the ship. This
also includes your own tactical short range communication
devices so your motives will be unknown for the next stage. After
this, you will return to the hanger and call the Pytherus for the
elites, and the Talon. Then head to nav-delta with them and
upload the
bio-toxins into the ships habitual regulation systems. Once that
is done, you will finally head to nav-omega. At nav-omega you
will then take control of the ship and allow Reck’ro to undue
the damage he had done to the vessel. And Phase two of our
operation will begin. Now remember, the elites are not to be
allowed to die on this mission. They are invaluable to the
U.N.S.C. resistance. Talon 9971-A is also a very valuable piece
of technology, so don’t squander it. Any questions?” Mitchell
look to Special Force 37, eager to see the mission take place.

Reck’ro then raised his hand. “Sir, no disrespect, but the model
you had shown us in the briefing room was not Talon 9971-A.
But rather Talon 9983-X Warhawk. Which contains some
modified features from the original 9971-A. I read the manual
just before mission prep and I also noted that the Talon
‘Warhawk’ had the fury tactical nuke launcher and the 25mm
gauss cannons replaced by twin shoulder mounted, phase
induced, plasma cannons. These weapons act to an extent like
the gauss cannons that were previously installed, but were
designed to radiate a minimal blast, while also forming a
localized electrical field. This weapon was proven brutal and
even inhumane by some, as it literally fried enemies like
lightning. The
electro thermal burst being known to arch-weld holes through
most forms of armor, and is used as an anti vehicular weapon.
Also the 102mm shape charged rocket pods were removed to
make room for a real active camo generator. It still uses the
standard Talon computer control system and possessor, which
means its actual combat initiative is somewhat lacking. But
these changes combined with a thermal imaging system and
gamma ray targeting system make it very useful. To explain
the gamma ray system in short; it uses very small gamma
radiation bursts to ‘paint’ targets. This painting can be detected
through most walls and such. The best part is that all of our
‘H.U.D.s’ are equipped to detect this unique targeting system.

Mitchell paused a moment and looked at Reck’ro a bit
skeptically. “You say you read the ‘entire’ manual just
before mission?”

Reck’ro nodded slightly. “Well, technically I ‘copied’ the
manual. You see, my unique, traits give me perfect
photographic memory. So I kind of copied each of them and
then allowed my nanological network to sort the data and leave
me with a advanced reference to the important changes and
traits described in the manual.” Reck’ro finished a bit
sheepishly.

Mitchell gave a slight sigh. “Alright, Dismissed. And good
luck . . . ”

Ghooj'lit sat in the corner, listening to the conversation with his head bowed. He smiled at what Reck'ro was saying. That nano memory of his was his savior. Chuckling he shook his head and remembered the lie that the Jackal had told him in their first conversations. Reck'ro could have known how to make better plasma weapons. He just didnt want to take that away from other designers. Well, at least he was smart about his nano whatever thing...

Special Force 37 readied themselves as the airlock sealed behind
them. Each of them running a mental check to be sure their
equipment was locked and air tight. Soon the air locked
depressurized with a hiss as all the lights clicked off, before
finally opening into the vast oblivion that awaited them. They saw
the enemy ship about fifty yards from the airlock. Krayt was the
first to approach the void, stepping out of the airlock, he pushed
off the threshold gently, sending him coasting to the enemy ship.
Reck’ro on the other hand was reluctant, he hated space, and he
hated zero gravity environments. But he couldn’t allow his phobia
to claim him, he had to do this, and he had to remain focused, or
he could make a fatal mistake. Reck’ro stepped toward the edge,
looking ‘down’ into the vastness, he swallowed hard. A shake of
his head redirected his view to the enemy ship, his objective. He
steadied himself and focused his mind, allowing his nanological
network to calculate the geometry throughly, before finally, he
pushed out of the airlock and to the craft, behind him the others
fallowed.

Reck’ro collided with the ship quietly, focusing on the vessel in
an attempt to push his fears aside. Once all of the unit was on the
alien craft, the started their assent. “Alright.” Reck’ro started, his
panting resounding over the short range communications network.
“Everyone fallow the nav indicators on your HUD to nav point
Alpha. Their I can upload the glitch that will by me the time I
need to disable the Covenant long range communications. We
will have to make this fast, because we want to be inside the ship
before the phantom returns.”

For close work, each member of the team had magnetic pads on their joints that would, in conjunction with the thruster packs, allow them to scale the sides of the alien craft.
It was with these that Steven began to climb to the NAV point.
"I've never seen a Covie ship like this," he whispered on the com.
"Keep the channel clear, Rowell," whispered Krayt, to which Steven replied, "Keep your pants on."
The squad slowly scaled the side of the ship; they presently reached the NAV point.
Reck'ro took a small, spoofer-like device out of his pack and placed it on a computer conduit that ran the length of the ship. He pressed several buttons, waited a few moments, then pressed another. The device booped, and Reck'ro held down a large red button.
"Glitch installed. Now for the real challenge."




Onboard the ship, Ship Master Jek'remta was the first officer to notice the slight mistake in the ship's programming.
"Second Officer, why haven't you uploaded the ordnance procedures?"
"I did, Excellency; they should have arrived at your station several moments ago."
"They are not here." He glanced at the screen, and was startled by a new mistake.
"First Officer, why are the engines at fifty percent? I told you they were to be kept at one hundred and twenty percent at all times!"
"They are, Excellency. They are running beyond their total capacity, and I warned you not a half unit ago that this could result in a meltdown of the plasma capacitation accelerators. You said the linear conductor could handle the extra power, and to fully power the energy modulators. We may have problems with the reactor soon; the ship is far from underpowered, Excellency."
The Ship Master shook his head. "Yes, of course; I remember now. How silly of me. Continue; there must be problems with the computer."





Sweat ran down Reck'ro's forehead as he furiously typed commands into the conduit box.
Finally, he sighed. "We're good. Long range communications are down; they won't be getting reinforcements anytime soon."
A new NAV point appeared on the squad's HUD; it was positioned directly inside the hangar bay.
Krayt cocked his head. "Aren't there bound to be loads of guards? This is an expensive ship."
Steven punched him on the shoulder. "That's why we carry guns."
"Oh, right. The same ones I'll shoot you with if you don't shut your mouth, smartass."
Steven smiled and flipped him the middle finger, then began climbing down to the hangar.
Once they reached the top egde, Reck'ro nudged Krayt on the shoulder. "Use a fiber optic probe and tell us what they've got down there."
The Spartan nodded, and he snaked a fiber optic probe from his helmet down over the edge of the hangar door.
"No Seraph fighters; fighter cover is out, thank God. A Phantom; that might tear us to bits. Two stationary plasma turrets; a contingent of Jackals, a couple Brutes, and maybe thirty Drones doing repair duty on some thing attached to the ceiling."
Reck'ro nodded. "Steven and Krayt, use your scoped weapons and take down what you can."
They both nodded, and Steven turned to Krayt. "I'll take the heavy stuff; you take the infantry."
Krayt agreed, weapons were unslung, and the shooting began.
Krayt plugged several Brutes, five Jackals, and two Drones, and Steven nabbed the turrets and the Phantom's turrets and drive cores. By then, their presence was known, at least in the hangar.
Reck'ro smiled and unslung the D.U.C.L.O. Cannon. "Time to go to work, people."

Spartan-014 continued firing the bullets from the muzzle of his Angelraiser sniper rifle. Foes were picked off, and many more running, confused aat what was happening. Out of the corner of his eye, Reck'ro nodded his head, and pulled out his DUCLO cannon. Krayt tapped Steven on the shoulder, and they both stored their Snipers. Krayt was the first to leap into the hangar, followed by Steven and then Reck'ro, with Ghooj'lit in the back. Grunts were running a amuk, and several Brutes were trying to get them under control. Krayt layed a small NAV on the brutes, for if they were taken out, panic would continue to spread, and order wouldn't come as fast. Krayt pulled out his Nightstalker rifle, and aimed through the scope as he ran towards a series of large barrels, for which he could use as cover. Reck'ro followed him, and they both took down the group of brutes. Krayt saw a grunt running for the alarm panel, and quickly took the shot. Purple blood splattered upon the alarm panel, and the grunt flapped to the ground, a bloody heap. Reck'ro was busy taking down the drones, and Ghooj'lit was running for one of the turrets. To be sure not to mistake the friendly grunt for an enemy, Krayt laid down a green NAV around him. Ghooj'lit climbed into one of the plasma turrets, and started taking down a series of jackals. The presence in the room decreased rapidly. Spartan-014 took a quick a glance at his motion detector, and increased the range. He saw a series of enemies coming down a corridor to the east. If they saw what was going on, they would report it to the Ship Master, and soon the whole ship would know that they were under attack. He tapped Reck'ro on the back, and pointed towards the east door. Krayt ran towards the door, with Reck'ro following. They lined themselves on either side of the door, and waited. In what seemed like seconds, the door opened, and out stepped a large Brute, decorated in ceremonial armor. Krayt had his combat knifes out, and silently stabbed the brute in the side of the chest and neck. Leaving the knifes, Spartan-014 reached for his pistols, and shot the large brute through the head. Screams were heard behind the brute, and Reck'ro was the first to resopond. Shoving the heavy brute out of the way, Reck'ro took aim and brought the group of grunts down in a millisecond. Ghooj'lit and Steven approached Krayt and Reck'ro. Steven had blood dripping from his forehead, but besides that, the team had sustained not one injury. Steven was the first to speak.
"A damn drone flew down, and slashed at me! I didn't even think they did that! He cut me, but not badly."
Krayt nodded, reached into his pack, pulled out medical tape, and threw it to Steven. He then started speaking.
"Now what?"...

Cricking his neck, Ghooj'lit waited for the others to enter and covered their backs with his overpowered Plasm Rifles. The team wound through corriors of purple and indigo walls until the color made Ghooj'lit sick. Eventually the came to the first resistance since entering the tunnels of metal: a group of jackals was patrolling. Ghooj'lit saw them turn the corner from behind and toggled his rifles to Semi-Automatic. Eyeing the trio, he lined up the site and shot three times from each hand. Six bolts of white hot plasma expelled and left a blue tinge to the air through which they flew. Three bolts hit three shields and the rest hit three jackal heads. As the rest of the team turned to see the burnt faces of the enemy, a grenade came flying around the corner of where they had been walking towards. Bouncing into a shilded corner it exploded harmlessly. The team readied for a fight. A dozen brutes burst from the depths of the ship and threw themselves headlong into the strike force. Shots from Krayt, Steven and Reck'ro killed three before they were tackled to the ground. Suddenly each was in a struggle with the enemy. All Ghooj'lit saw was the hairy wrists of a brute encircling his neck. Straining his hand downward, he came out with a Plasma Knife, a gift from a very old friend. As the blade of the small dagger flashed into existance, Ghooj'lit flicked his hand and the brute was left standng with no wrists. Howling in rage the thing bore down upon him in a frenzied rush. Rolling backwards, Ghooj'lit smiled grimly and waited for the behemoth to come within range. When he had, Ghooj'lit jumped onto its chest and plunged the dagger into its heart and then its eye. Dropping down and stepping out of the way, Ghooj'lit didnt notice the body fall dead beside him. Looking around he saw that the rest of the team were handling competently except for Reck'ro. The tohers were bieng held at bay by three brutes while one continued to swing at the jackal. Only his superior reflexes were letting him evade each blow. Growling, Ghooj'lit grabbed up Reck'ros cannon and tossed it to him, relying on his enhanced vision to help him catch it. Reck'ro must have dropped it when he couldnt dodge the tackle of brutes in the crowded corridor. Jumping on the brutes back Ghooj'lit slashed and slashed but this one wasnt going down. A large hairy fist reached back and grabbed his head, squeezing hard. The world changed through different shades of magnificent colors as the pressure increased on Ghooj'lit's brain. Suddenly, a beam blasted light through the brutes chest. Ghooj'lit fell to the ground on top of the brutes chest as the rest of the team finished up with the other ones. Ghooj'lit felt a hand help him upwards and leaned on his beloved jackal friend.
"Thanks Reck, thats two I owe you."

Reck’ro looked over at the Spartans a moment, Krayt seeing
concern in the Jackals change of composure. The Spartan found it
ironic, that a Jackal, the least likely of any race to befriend him he
seemed to understand the most. But he knew Reck’ro more then
anyone else knew. The Jackal then spoke up, his voice both
concerned and even a bit annoyed. “Why didn’t we stick to the
original plan? To use stealth to make it to the Terminal at NAV
zeta, because isn’t it likely that the Covenant security force has
short range communications like us? And more so, we didn’t even
call the Pytherus to send in the Talon and elites. What is wrong
with you, we just violated two mission objectives and now the
ship likely is on to us. The lieutenant explained our orders
twice too us!” The Jackal then sighed. “I suppose there isn’t
anything we can do about it now, they will likely close the hanger
back there in moments once they get organized. Lets hurry up and
try to get ahead. But now they will likely be tracking our
movements by whatever task forces don’t report in. And we will
have to deal with any hunters without the Talon's extra firepower.
And we will be grilled by the Lieutenant because we don’t have
the elites in place for ‘phase two’, dang it, they won’t even be on
the ship! This is going to be a very bad day . . . ”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Aboard the ships deck, Ship Master Jek'remta looked into the
depths of space from the viewing screen, watching the near by
star dying in flames, they were in no danger, the ship estimated it
was a good sixty-three hours before it could possibly explode. He
sighed lightly as it seemed to be just another fruitless day, no sign
of their objectives, with only space and system glitches from
varying electron and gamma radiation storms generated by the
near by sun in it decaying state. Covenant electronics had always
required constant maintenance in when in proximity to dying stars
such as this one. Soon, he was startled from his thoughts as the
perfect silence was broken by the quick decompression of the
hydriodic doors behind him. The Security Warden then entered
and took a quick bow respectfully then rose. “Ship Master, a
security team has reported intruders on level four, they seem to
have entered hanger two and took it, we believe them to be
moving to level four. I respectfully request the authority to seal
levels three through six. That way we will be able to contain the
strike force and crush them! What say you Ship Master?”

Jek’remta gave a raised eye brow to the new threat, then with a
smirk he started to laugh loudly. “Very well, you have permission
to seal levels three through six. I must say, this does explain a lot.
Go now, I need to monitor this glitch. Or should it be called a,
sabotage, hmm?” with this he laughed again and turned to a
monitor in front of him. “Why did you run all the way over here
to tell me something that you could have told me over the
communications terminal Security Warden?” Though his voice
now annoyed slightly, he did not turn to face the Warden.

“Ship Master?” the Warden started. “Did you not know? All short
range communications are disabled.”

The Ship Master laughed once again, this time turning to face
him. “It looks like our little saboteurs are one step ahead of you
Warden, you had best move quickly now. Or I may have to take
care of it myself . . . ” The Ship Master allowed his threat to hang
in the air as he turned back to his monitor . . .

---------------------------------------------------------------

Reck’ro sighed a moment. “There, short range communications
disabled. Not that it will do us much good. But with the lack of
alarms I say we bought ourselves some time.” Reck’ro paused a
moment, as though waiting for his words to be proven false. But
nothing happened. “Alright, lets move out. Unless you want to
fallow orders now, I will return to NAV alpha by myself so I can see if the
hanger is still open. If it is, then I can use this neutron flair to
signal the ship.” With that Reck’ro headed to the hanger. But
would soon be dismayed once he realized the Phantom had
returned, and the Hanger was sealed . . .

Krayt stood there. He was shocked himself that he didn't follow their given orders. Something wasn't right. He activated the system diagnostic on his suit. A small, almost unoticable virus popped up on the systems scan. Krayt ran a scan on the virus to determine what it had in it. Then, in an instant, a shock resinated through his head, and his HUD went black. His head started throbbing, and he couldn't tolerate the pain. He fell to his knees, trying to rip his helmet off. To no avail, blackness enveloped the rest of him, and he fainted...

Reck'ro stopped in his tracks. The hangar door had been sealed, and a Phantom was docked in the hangar. Quickly backing up back into the corridor so that he wasn't seen, the small door in front of him closed tight, and they remained unnoticed. The jackal turned back towards the following group. Spartan-014 was on his knees, holding his head, trying to take his helmet off. Reck'ro started panicking.
"What's wrong!"
Ghoo'jlit was standing back, watching, while Steven was kneeling next to Krayt, trying to help in any way. The Spartan collapsed in a matter of seconds. Steven was able to unsecure the Spartan's helmet, and take it off. Krayt's face was pale, and his eyes were rolled up in the back of his head. His mouth was fluttering about, and his hands were shaking. Steven quickly set down his pack and reached for a stim. As he pulled it out, Krayt reached his hand up, and grasped it around the marine's neck...

...the blackness disappeared, and reality came back. It was still difficult to see, but he could see nonetheless. My helmet's off. As he thought that thought, it resonated through his head, like an echo. And then, uncontrolably, his hand reached out and grasped Steven's neck, who was kneeling next to him. He felt his grip on the marine's neck grow tighter, but he couldn't stop. Panicking now, he tried using his other hand to hold himself back. To no avail, the marine he was choking was now starting to gag...

Reck'ro saw what his close Spartan friend was doing, but couldn't believe it. And he couldn't believe what he was about to do. He ran towards the marine, reached for his pistol, and aimed it at Krayt's hand. The jackal pulled the trigger, and the 12.7mm bullet shot out of the handheld gun, and into the Spartan's hand. There was a soft metalic sound, followed by spurts of blood coming from the place Reck'ro had shot. The grip on Steven's neck stilled, and the Spartan's arm fell down towards the ground. He made no sound, and no sign that he was in pain. And then, suddenly, he bolted upright, and yelled out-loud...

...Krayt bolted upright, pain enveloping his entire hand. He couldn't think straight as he started standing up. He moved his arm, and this time, it moved with him. He could control himself again. Looking at his hand, the placce the pain had erupted from, he saw that there was a small bullet hole there. He looked up, and saw Reck'ro holding the pistol. Krayt backed off as he reached for his Nightstalker rifle on the floor. The jackal ally lowered the weapon, and slowly walked towards him.
"What happened?" he asked.
Spartan-014 turned his head to look at Steven. He was breathing heavily, holding his neck with one hand.
"I.." he started. "I don't know...something...inside of my head."
Krayt reached again towards his head as that same pain started inside of him. He again started seeing blackness cover his eyes.
"It's something inside of my head...like an AI..."
Krayt kneeled to the floor. He saw Reck'ro rush towards him, and disappear behind him...

Reck'ro ran past his friend Krayt, and reached for the power pack on the Spartan's armor. He forced the control panel open. Wires stretched across every inch of space in the small opening. Reck'ro fumbled with a series of wires, and started connecting different wires. The Spartan-014 was now growling in a sense. Reck'ro picked up the pace. He stretched the blue wire towards the electrical curcuit, and connected the two. There was a large electrical spark, and Reck'ro was thrown to the floor. The Spartan started shaking, and then collapsed, as smoke rose from the power pack on his back...

Kraty opened his eyes again, for the second time. He felt tired, weak, and could hardly move. He slowly started standing up, but was only able to make it to his knees. The jackal was back in view, and kneeled next to Krayt.
"Are you alright?"
Krayt shook his head. He felt a lot better in the head, but his whole body pained him.
"Ya, I think so."
Ghoo'jlit made his way over.
"What happened?" he asked.
The same question was resounding through his own head. What had happened?
"I'm not sure. At first, I was following you, Reck'ro. I went through what happened when we first came in, when we first battled the Covenant in the hangar. I thought it over, and decided that something wasn't right. I started a system diagnostic, and found a small virus. I scanned the virus itself, and as soon as I did that, that's when I blacked out. I think the virus was a Covenant AI. And I think that AI was trying to take me over."
He turned his head back towards Reck'ro.
"I think you 'killed' it in a sense when you electricuted me using my own suit."
Reck'ro nodded, and Krayt held out a trembling hand.
"Thanks."
Reck'ro took the Spartan's hand, which was triple his own hand size. They shook hands, smiling at the same time. Steven reluctantly walked over, massaging his neck with one hand, and carrying a first aid kit with the other. He added some biofoam to the wound on the Spartans hand, and injected a pain reliever there too. Bandaging the hand, he was good to go.

Reck’ro pondered a moment, wondering where he
could have picked up such a thing from? The virus
sounded like the Covenant ‘Plight of Reconcile’, but
the only problem was that it never was able to
correctly interface with human consciousness, the
Covenant couldn’t even get it to recognize human
consciousness as a interfaceable target. Reck’ro knew
it had to be something more. “Give me your data chip,
I am going to see if I can salvage part of the virus
later. Do you have any idea where you could have
picked it up from?” Reck’ro handed Steven his side
arm back.

Steven then looked to the Jackal a moment. “Why did
you take my gun? You have your own don’t you?”

Reck’ro smiled. “Ammunition for my weapon on the
Pytherus is limited, but they have plenty of rounds for
your gun. It was just more economical to use your gun.
Besides, I knew mine would be over kill. And besides,
Spartan-014 I am sure would rather not have bits of
uranium flowing freely through his blood stream,
depleted or not.”

“And you took the time to think of all this while he
was strangling me?” Steven looked over at Reck’ro,
questioning his judgment a moment.

“Actually it probably took me less time to guess how
long you had left to live, how long it would take me to
stop him, how to stop him, where to aim, which
weapon to use, and why, then it took you to figure out
he was strangling you.” Reck’ro tapped the side of his
head, smiling. He knew others tended to forget from
time to time, how fast he could think. But he couldn’t
blame them, he was a Jackal after all, and he was
thankful they accepted him as they did, even if they
forget the details from time to time.

Krayt reached in the back of his helmet, and pulled out the data chip. Parts of his HUD disappeared, but most of the view remained.
"Be sure to give it back, and soon."
Reck'ro nodded, and examined the chip. Krayt opened his mouth to answer the other question the jackal asked, and started speaking.
"Well, the only place I can think of is when we were installing that glitch onto the Covenant ship. Possibly, this 'Plight of Reconile' may have been uploaded to the nearest data chip that wasn't infected with a glitch. That being me. I'm not sure why or how it did this, but that's my best guess."
The Spartan peered down at his hand, and opened and closed it to make sure it was still working.
"You done with my data chip yet Reck'ro?"
Krayt turned around uneasily, and looked down the hall.
"Something doesn't seem right. Hurry up..."

Ghooj'lit watched this scene unfold and thought hard. When Reck had finished his rescue, Ghooj'lit stood of to the side. No one noticed how quiet he was, perhaps except for Reck'ro. Reck'ro had probably ignored it though. Ghooj'lit was rarely this quiet, and he was glad not to be noticed. He had to find a way of slipping past the group without them noticing, the wouldnt allow him to do this if he told them. Ghooj'lit raised his eyes and stared at Reck'ro and the others talking. Reck especially wouldnt let him. Sighing, Ghooj'lit walked over and pretended to act normal. A few minutes later, Ghooj'lit had switched his upgraded plasma pistol for Reck'ros normal one, and had primed his invisibility generator. If he didnt come back, then Reck'ro deserved the best sidearm to help the team through. If Ghooj'lit failed then they would have to fight through many horendous battles to get from this ship. Ghooj'lit stayed towards the back of the group and as soon as everyones attention was gone, he slipped away. Activating his generator, he slipped inside a duct and sealed it behind him with small, quiet bursts from his pistol. They wouldnt follow him. This was his mission alone, for his failure alone. And he must repay it to save his friends. As Ghooj'lit crawled into the bowels of the ship, his absence unnoticed by his team, he set his face to do what he needed to do. He hoped he would come through alive.

Reck’ro watched the screen a moment as he inserted
the chip into his wrist computer, then designated the
port as a quarantined sector. He then, with a number of
security programs, probed the chip, looking for the
core processing files of the virus. The problem with
the ‘Plight of Reconcile’ was that is was driven by a
core file, a command script buried withing a specific
sector of the data device. The only problem is, that the
only data storage device in his suet was this chip,
which contained only a record of his mission, and
some of his suet functions. Soon, Reck’roes wrist
control panel flashed to life a warning, it had found
the virus, finally. Reck’ro then looked at it, and found
just by its ID and scripting pallet, that is was very
different from the ‘Plight of Reconcile’. He then
accessed it in the quarantine area, and opened its
binary equivalent data. Soon the screen started to
scroll quickly, until all on it was nearly a blur. His
nanological network taking and possessing the data.
“This, this is, very bad . . . ” Reck’roes voice
stammered at the data he was looking at.

“What Reck’ro? are we looking at?” Krayt asked, not
ready for what the Jackal said next.

“What we are looking at is, well, on first glance the
‘Plight of Reconcile’, but then again it well.” Reck’ro
paused. “It seems to share a lot of equivalents with
some Forerunner software I encountered while at
Sajah’Hari. I don’t know where the covenant got it
from, but I was supposed to look at it and give my
opinion. Now the program later turned out to be a
simply targeting protocol, and is definitely not
whatever is in here. This is, as though, something
Forerunner hybrid with the ‘Plight of Reconcile’. This
is all very bad, and I can’t fix it.” Reck’ro looked at
the visual display in awe as he spoke, Spartan-014
didn’t like the idea, not at all. But before he could
speak Reck’roes eyes lit up, in that manner Krayt was
always happy to see, the light that meant the little
Jackal had an idea. “I can however get some of your
functions back. Come here, I need to tinker with your
suet.” With that Spartan-014 knelt down, allowing the
Jackal easy access to his service panels. Five minutes
later the Jackal closed the panel. “Alright, you should
have shields, but your active camo is gone, as well as
any special aiming features you had. All you are left
with is your basic HUD, with the exception of your
ammunition registry, and shield charge display.
Meaning you will be unable to see via your HUD, how
much ammunition you have left, and how much of
your shields are left. You wont even get a warning
beep when they are low, so be careful.” The Jackal
said, leaving Krayt to grimace at the loss of
information input. Reck’ro then removed the chip
from his wrist control panel and put in into his
backpack. Before Krayt could even stand, he heard an
all to familiar sound, the sound of a brute shot. It then
whistled past Krayt, Reck’ro knowing its intent, and
raising his arms, crossing one over his throat, and the
other over the top of his snout to protect his eyes as the
shot collided with his chest, blasting the Jackal across
the room, slamming him into a nearby bulkhead. The
Jackal then fell, smoking, atmosphere hissing from
where the shot split the black armor, though not
shattering a hole in it, it left small fragments scattered
across the floor, smoke rolling from the blast point,
and a crack among the shattered surface, which was
barely large enough to allow the escape of gasses. The
rest turned to see five Brutes, and a Hunter pare
rushing down the long hall to meet them.

Krayt heard the brute shot sound, and heard it connect with Reck'ro, but his vision was obscurrered by static.
"Damn this chip, damn this suit, and God-damn that fucking virus!"
Whirling around from the direction the noise came from, Krayt instinctively reached for a frag grenade, primed it and threw it. Two seconds passed, and the explosion shaked the small corridor. The Spartan's HUD started to appear again, and, like Reck'ro said, the energy shield guages as well as the ammunition meters were gone. Battle tactics raced through his head as he swiveled around to look at his fallen jackal comrade. Krayt turned back around as the smoke from his grenade cleared. Two Hunters and four Brutes were standing there. One Brute lay on the ground. The group was growling in pain and anger. Krayt opened his mouth to give an order to the group.
"Ghooj'lit, take rear! Steven, cover Reck and Gooj'lit with me!"
Steven reacted instantly, and ran next to Krayt, both their weapons flaring and alive. Bullets traveled through the air at what seemed like lightspeed, and connected with the enemy at the far end of the corridor. The two Hunters apparently tired of the game, and, again, rushed the group. Damn. In these tight corridors, there wasn't a chance in hell of dodging the rushing Covenant mammoths.
"Retreat!"
Steven cocked his head to one side, as if to make sure he heard right. The Spartan sweeped Steven off of his legs, and ran towards Reck'ro. Where's Ghooj'lit? Krayt dropped Steven, and heaved the wounded jackal into his own arms.
"You heard what I said marine! Let's move!"
The door behind them opened as they neared it. Another corridor appeared, this one almost exactly the same as the one they were just in. Which way, which way? Krayt ran into the hall, and made a sharp left. The hall seemed to stretch forever, and was wider than the last one.
"Keep coming!" Krayt yelled to Steven.
Reck'ro jumbled up and down in the Spartan's armored hands, and he opened his eyes, as well as his mouth.
"Wha-?"
Krayt didn't answer, but continued to run the unusually long hallway. Quickly peering behind him, he noticed the Hunters weren't following. Krayt stopped on his heels, and Steven ran into the back of him.
"Shhhh..."

Loaokon and his mate ran after the fleeing humans, their tempers rising to a boiling point. Their brute officers followed, anger steeming from their heads as well. As the Hunters neared the corner where the humans had turned, one brute stopped the group and spoke up.
"Wait. This corridor is a dead end. It leads to our Prophet's Private chambers, and there is no way they can get past the sealed doors, as well as the Honor Guards guarding the doors."
The Brute slired his words, and was slightly hard to understand, but the group got the point. If they stayed hidden, waiting for the group to come back this way...then an ambush was assured, and the humans would easily be eliminated. The Hunters sighed, but followed the orders. If the ambush doesn't work, then the universe is off-balance...

"What?" Steven chimed in.
Krayt held his hand up, and although he wore a helmet, Steven could sense the Spartan was giving him a dirty look. He finally spoke.
"Nothing...I thought I heard something...where's Ghoojl'it?"
Reck'ro adjusted himself in the grip of Spartan, and Krayt could sense the jackal's uneasiness. Setting his jackal friend down, Krayt re-stated the question.
"Where's Ghooj'lit? I thought he was following us..."
Reck'ro turned his head, and slowly rotated it. Reck'ro's mouth started to shake as he opened it, and his eyes began to grow wide.
"We have to go back for him," Reck'ro said.
Spartan-014 consciously agreed, but opened his mouth to protest.
"We can't Reck. If he really is back there, then...then he's...most likely dead."
Reck'ro started to shiver, but agreed. Inside though, what he wanted most was to cry...

Ghooj'lit sat in the tunnel, spliced into the view screens. He watched the attack and nearly jumped out of his mask as Reck'ro was hit. They ran through another door which Ghooj'lit couldnt get a view through. Sighing, Ghooj'lit pulled the wires from the handheld vidpad and continued along.

"Hold out on me Reck, you all have to or I will fail and so will you."

Ghooj'lits face was grim. Beneath his eyes, sorrow at leaving his friends and anger at the necessity played through his mind.
Gonna be a long freaking day.

Reck’ro coughed a bit. He then glanced over himself,
and gasped. “My, my armor is leaking. Before we
introduce that toxin we will have to fix this. Or well, I
wont be very happy.” Reck’ro stammered looking at it.
"We will have to fix it soon, before my atmosphere
deplete entirely. I don’t think I am hurt, not badly.
Except my view is all fuzzy, I think the HUD in this
thing got jarred. Reck’ro then looked down, his eyes
hidden behind the tinted lenses of his mask. I can’t
believe this happened, again.” Reck’ro then held the
side of his head, memories resurfacing with horror and
realism, his nanites making every effort to stave off
the conflicting data, but it was no use. Reck’ro made
up his mind. “I am going back for Ghooj’lit! I can’t
leave him like I left Kir’Rith! I still can’t forgive
myself over her, and I wont let someone else die
because I was given orders!” Reck’ro almost yelling
now, his emotional, and mental state plummeting in a
startling manner. Spartan-014 was caught off guard by
it. Then, Reck’ro pulled his side arm and aimed it at
the marine and Spartan, stepping away, shaking his
head from side-to-side, not wanting to accept the
thought of another loss. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
Something was wrong, Reck’ro knew it, he wasn’t
acting right. He wanted to go back for Ghooj’lit, he
really did, but what was happening? Why is he
drawing his weapon, is he afraid they will stop him?
He didn’t know, all he could do is act.

Krayt's eyes widened. Reck'ro stood there, gun pulled out and aimed at him and Steven. He gave a sorrowful laugh inside, but knew that something was wrong.
"Reck'ro...we can't go back. If we do, they have a chance of killing us. What good would it do to go back and get killed? Ghooj'lit sacrificed his life to help us get this far. Don't let that effort go in vain. Don't let yourself die because of sorrow for a friend."
Krayt took a step forward.
"We have to keep moving, Reck..."

Krayt was right, they couldn’t go back, but for some
reason, this logic didn’t take hold. Reck’ro held his
head with his free hand, stepping back from the
Spartan. “Stay back!” He yelled. “I don’t, I don’t want
to shoot you!” The Jackal’s hand was now shaking, the
gun threatening to go off any moment. The Jackal then
raised his free hand to his wrist, he then made an effort
to guide the gun from then, the Jackal trembling from
head to toe now, he fought with himself. His focus
broken by a voice. Something, familiar. He then
glanced out of the corner of his eye down the hall. It
sounded like Ghooj’lit, calling for Reck’roes help. The
Jackal then looked to the Spartan before him, his skin
paled, and his eyes dilated. “Krayt, be honest with me,
right now. Did you hear Ghooj’lit just this moment?”

Krayt shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“Be honest with me dang it! DID YOU HEAR HIM!”
Reck’ro yelled irrationally, his weapon extending at
the Spartan sharply.

“No Reck’ro, I did not hear Ghooj’lit, not sense we ran
from the brutes.” Krayt answered.

Reck’ro then forced his weapon down. “There is,
something, wrong with me.” Reck’roes breathing was
now labored, his words somewhat broken. “I feel, sick.
Could it be something in the air? My suet is breached,
and they didn’t fallow us.” Reck’ro started to try and
control his breathing. “Okey, lets calm down. What is
wrong with me?” He started, as though forming a list
rather then asking a question. “I seem to be
experiencing emotional instability, audio
hallucinations, severe paranoia, irregular breathing,
lack of concentration, and irrational behavior.”
Reck’ro examined himself, making vocal note of each
symptom. The Jackal then took a deep breath, taking
his finger off the trigger. Then clicking on the safety,
he gripped the gun around it’s right side, and held it
out to the Spartan, as well as his D.U.C.L.O. Cannon
from his back. “You should probably take these.” The
Jackal lowered his head. “I, I think I am better now,
but, I don’t want something bad to happen. I know, we
have to go on without Ghooj’lit. And that this, this is
different then what happened to Kir’Rith.” Reck’ro
held his weapons out, hands trembling slightly, even
still. “If, if you want I will put them on the floor.”
Reck’ro added, still not looking at Krayt, feeling awful
over what he had almost done. Now frightened of
himself, he then slowly knelt down, and laid his
weapons on the floor and held his hands up, stepping
back from them. Leaving Spartan-014 in stunned a
moment over the seemingly bipolar emotional change
in the Jackal.

Krayt blinked his eyes as he watched the jackal back off. The weapons had been laid in front of him, but the Spartan refused to take them.
"Reck'ro."
He took a long pause.
"Something is wrong with you. But if you don't pick your weapons back up right now, your gonna get shot at, and won't be able to defend yourself."
It was a strange explanation, but the point came across. Slowly, the jackal kneeled down and picked up his weapons.
"Now, about that crack in your armor. I think I know a way we can fix it."
Krayt pointed towards the corridor they had just came down from.
"If you want that armor of yours fixed, I know that there is an armory just down the other corridor back there. But we'd have to fight off the Covenant too. And if we did that, we could look for Ghooj'it."
Krayt shook his head.
"But that would be pretty risky. There is another way. We could fill your suit's crack with biofoam. That may do the trick until we can find proper repairing parts."
The jackal nodded his head as he took in all the information. Krayt continued.
"I know that I just said 'we can't go back', but now that I think about it, we can easily take these guys. I have a plan that may just work. But it's your choice..."

Reck’ro sighed, looking over his weapons, clearing his
mind, trying to think of a plan. Soon, Reck’ro smiled,
remembrance coming to him. Reck’ro then knelt down
and motioned for the others. Whispering, he explained
his plan. “Ok, now, judging by the class of this ship,
there is a chamber at one end of the hall, I wager,
based on the ships model, it is for someone important.
Which means there will be lots of guards. And without
the Talon, or heavy firepower, due to lack of cover in
the strait hall, we will be outmatched, not to mention
we could be attacked from behind by the ambushing
force. I believe it will be better if we go back, and then
try to find a way to get the Talon onboard. At the
armory we could possibly find enough firepower to do
it ourselves, but it would be far easier if we got the
Talon and then uploaded the bio toxins before
storming anything. I do believe the chamber, which is
our alternative is provided atmosphere separately, and
therefore will not be affected by the bio toxins. So my
recommended approach is: to use high explosives, the
most powerful we have. I figure they are going to
ambush us, but with no active camouflage generators,
I should be able to spot them. The trick to this is going
to be for me to secretly plant charges among them,
while staying hidden with my own active camouflage
generator, and then get behind them, then detonate
part of the charges, which will be your signal to attack,
then once you engage, I will also from behind, while
detonating the rest of the charges one by one. The idea
is to cause chaos among them, and keep them broken
while we pick them off. You and Steven as well as
myself will also use grenades to help with the
confusion and keep them off balance. The down side
to this is bio-foam will show up with my active camo
on, so I cant have it, only limiting me to.” Reck’ro
thought a moment, calculating. “About fifteen, maybe
twenty minutes of life support. So we will have to be
quick. But well, that’s my recommended plan. What
have you got?” Reck’ro finished, keeping an eye on
their flanks. “One note.” Reck’ro added. “This toxin
we are going to upload will eat through the biofoam,
literally. Its like some form of high active, corroding
acid. Our shields will be unaffected by it, but we will
have to patch up my crack, and your hole before we
activate the toxins. So incase our shields go down, we
don’t get eaten alive by it. It is very poisonous, and if
it makes contact with any part of our skin, it should be
fatal, as it will make it’s own way to our blood stream
with it’s acidic nature.” Reck’ro motioned to Krayt’s
hand wound and his own breach in the chest of his
armor. These toxins sounded very brutal, and Krayt
really didn’t want to have himself, or anyone else on
his team exposed to it.

Considering the plan was harder than he first thought. There were many positives and negatives to Reck'ro's plan, but it would definately kill off many of the Covenant.
"It sounds good to me Reck. But we've gotta find some way to seal your crack in your armor as well as my hand."
Krayt gestured to both the breaches in each other's armor.
"Have any suggestions for that...?"

Pelo 'Jiakderee stalked the hallways of the long, ornately decorated corridor. He was on guard duty, and although it was a boring assignement, he knew his Prophet appreciated the protection. The Prophet of Wisdom resided behind the quadri-reinforced steel doors painted in an amythest color. What he did behind those doors was unknown to him, and only the strongest and most trusted Elites and Brutes could guard from within there. Sliding his hand along the Energy Staff, the Honor Guard Elite sighed, and stopped his hand before it reached the small plasma blade at the top. In what seemed like seconds after he sighed, a slight hiss of static broke through his COM channel near his mandible, and a rough voice came through. "Intruders on corridor Alpha, hallway 4." The voice cut off. Pelo cocked his head to one side and looked down the hallway behind him. That's hallway 3. Turning back in front, and knowing that this hallway was number 4, he sprinted down it, calling for support...

Reck'ro stood there, thinking over how they could repair the armor imperfections. As he calcuated different strategies through his head, Krayt began to grow impatient. They had already been standing here for at least three minutes, and time wasn't exactly on their side. And then, a small pattering noise broke the silence, and the Spartan froze. Damnit. Swiftly turning around and facing down the hallway they were headed too, Spartan-014 kneeled down, and raised his CRNS Nightstalker rifle. Reck'ro too was kneeling, and Steven was the only one left in confusion. The pattering noise grew louder. Quietly whispering, Krayt ordered Steven to watch their flank. He reluctantly agreed. The noise continued to grow louder, if only slightly. Soon the distinguishable noise of footsteps resonated through the hall, along with three pounding hearts...

Reck’ro took aim in it’s direction, he knew his keep aim
could take the first two that so much as peaked around the
corner, but his weapon would then overheat, and he would
have to let the others deal with whatever else came
momentarily. Waiting, Reck’ro tooa a grenade and
clenched the clip between his teeth, incase it was needed.
He then took hit pistol and hung it by it’s trigger guard
over his lower finger on his left hand, which upper finger
rested over the trigger. Reck’ro now would have three
weapon easily accessible and ready in moments. Then
engaging his active camouflage generator, his suet sparked
and sizzled a moment, electrical current crackled over
small parts of his armor as he finally vanished. “That
wasn’t good.” Reck’ro whispered with a slight groan. “By
the way, I think I can fix our armor if we can make it to
the armory. But I will need about ten to fifteen minutes,
which we might not have. I would say ‘for get it, lets just
upload the toxins and get it over with’, but now that I
think about it, I don’t have shields to protect me from the
acidic environment that will occur from it.” Reck’ro
noted, not wanting to waste any more time if they lived
through this. “The biggest drawback is I will need myself
and you to remove the sections of armor I will be fixing
before I can do it. Meaning your glove comes off, and so
does my armor breast plate.” Reck’ro added. Then, with
that finished, he cleared his mind, focusing his
nanological network on his current goal, defending
himself and his team.

Krayt considered the words Reck'ro spoke, and watched him vanish into thin air. He then remembered that he couldn't use his own camoflauge generators because they were affected by the virus. Krayt didn't answer to the jackal's comment, but continued to focus ahead. Grasping a grenade from behind his belt, he placed his index finger through the clip and held the rest of it by his thumb. If need be, he could use this grenade with a simple motion of his fingers. The footsteps grew louder, and then disappeared entirely. Beads of sweat trickled down the Spartans forehead as he grew nervous to the ever present danger. Slowly cocking his head towards Reck'ro, he barely opened his mouth and started to whisper.
"Keep me covered from back here. I'm going up front."
With a nod from the jackal, Spartan-014 slowly made his way up the long stretch of corridior, feeling better that his good friend Reck'ro was there to help should anything go wrong. As he approached the the end of the hallway, there were two corners meaning two more hallways; both to the left and right. Krayt slowly peeked around the left corner, and was suprised by a punch to the face...

Reck’ro quickly took action, his reflexes faster then
his surprise. Immediately, a line of transparent
ultraviolet coherent light lanced through the center of
the attacking appendage, distinctive colored fluids
spattering across the wall, withdrawing his right hand
he dropped his grenade into it, and in one motion he
pulled the pin, released the clip as well as threw the
weapon with computer-like precision and speed.
“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” Reck’roes voice crackled
with his inherent, glasslike, gravel tone. The Spartan
responded instinctively, his training causing him to
roll out of the way to avoid the blast. Steven then
fallowed up with his own fragmentation grenade,
further spattering the wall in vibrant shades of color.

Krayt heard Reck'ro's voice, but because of the near-defeaning punh to the face, he couldn't hear what he was saying. Instictevly though, he saw the grenade in the air, and rolled backwards. The Covenant Elite was shocked as the grenade exploded. Only the Elite's shield appeared to remain. And then, almost miraculously, another grenade came to finish the job. Purple blood splattered everywhere, and chunks of Elite lay on the ground. Standing up, Krayt was careful as to not step in the mess they had made. He approached Reck'ro and Steven.
"Nice work. Oh, and thanks for getting my back."
"Save your thanks Spartan," said Steven. "We've got more trouble!"
Stevens long finger pointed down the hallway they had previously came from. Two Hunters and five Brutes were charging their position. Not them again! Spartan-014 opened his mouth to give an order.
"Reck'ro. Take the brutes down! Me and Steven can handle the Hunters..."

Reck’ro nodded as two bursts of ultra violet light
blazed from his weapon. Two of the brute commanders
dropped instantly as the beams of coherent light burned
pathways through their throat cavities, causing them to
writhe in pain as they were slowly asphyxiated by blood
that the stink of their own burning flesh. The third
threw up his weapon and charged the group, Reck’ro
letting go of his weapon with his right hand as he
swung the M9 ‘X’ on his lower finger, the weapon
flipping shortly in the air as he gripped it again and
then fired six successive shots, each one mutilating the
beasts face and neck more then the last as it charged.
Blood mingled with small pieces of grotesque,
brutalized flesh spattering across the floors, until the
last shot finally put it down for good. The other two
fired carbines, The Jackal tossing his D.U.C.L.O.
cannon into the air, then primed and threw a single
high-explosive grenade into them, then he emptied the
last of his clip while catching the airborne weapon
within his now empty hand. From the smoke and chaos,
a carbine round found it’s way to Steven’s shoulder,
and one two Reck’roes right leg. The Jackal hollered in
pain, his voice crackled as his high pitch shrilled
overwhelmed the speakers of his helmet. Falling to one
knee he swapped clips, and fired again into the smoke.
Soon, large bursts of green energy washed over the hall,
Reck’ro barely able to hear Steven’s surprised scream
of pain turn into a forced growl of anger, as well as
Krayt making ever effort to holler for them to ‘get
down’. The energy barely missed Reck’roes head by a
hair, his scalp hot from the proximity of the projection.
The Jackal then heard a brute growl and gargle,
meaning he likely breathed his last. The hall now filled
with smoke, the hunters weapons melting and frying
the metal walls and electronic parts behind them only
compounding the smoke of the HE grenade set of
seconds earlier. Taking aim again, he was surprised to
see the last brute charge through the smoke, carrying
one of the commander’s ‘Brute Shot’ weapons, bayonet
off to its right and ready to strike. Steven rolled aside,
but the Jackal froze, his reactions ended, without cause
or reason, he simply didn’t react. The bayonet then
came upward, the Brute realizing him at the last
moment as a target. His HUD flashed sharply as the
Brute’s weapon smashed into the visor, cutting deeply
into the Titanium/Cobalt alloy, and biting into the side
of his face, all soon after, went dark. Voices echoed as
they moved further away, a cold sensation then
overtook him, every increment of strength in his body
seemed to drain from him, seeming as though being
melted from him, falling through him to seep into the
cold steel alloy beneath.

Spartan-014 gasped, seeing Reck’ro seemingly
materialize as his active camouflage flickered and
faded, weapons dropping to the floor from either hand.
The Brute’s weapon now embraced by the opposing
pieces of the Jackal’s helmet just to the left of his
snout. Deep violet blood running steadily off of the end
of the bayonet, only to trickle and pool upon the
steelwork floor.

In slow-motion, Krayt watched as the purple blood from the jackal drip to the titanium floor. Then, as if God had turned the slow-motion off, Krayt's training kicked in, and he knew that he had to focus on the matter ahead of him. The Hunters had been charging, then stopped as the brutes took the charge. Now it was the Hunter's turn. Their fuel rod cannons were blazing a brilliant green light; almost beautiful enough to stare at. But the shrieking sound of the ball of energy screaming towards them would scare anybody away.
"Get down!" yelled Krayt.
Steven reacted immediately, and dropped to the ground just as the first fuel rod shot passed overhead. Krayt had sidestepped the shot in his direction, but only by a hair's width.
"Supressing fire!" ordered Krayt.
Again, Steven acted immediately, and started shooting at the Covenant behemoths. Spartan-014 bent down and picked Reck'ro up. Making sure his grip was tight on his jackal friend, Krayt held Reck'ro by one arm, and, with the other, held his Nightstalker. The barrel of the weapon started to flare, and 10.5mm rounds flew through the air and connected themselves with the orange flesh of the Hunters. Almost forgetting that Steven was still there, he opened his mouth to speak.
"Steven! Get back!"
This time, Steven was slow to the order. As Krayt's Nightstalker rifle continued its unmericiful rate of fire, the Hunters apparently decided they had had enough. Both of them charged, ignoring the bullets pounding against them. Steven did little to dodge them.
"Damnit Steven! Get the hell outta there!"
It was too late though. The pair of Hunters approached Steven, and swatted him aside like a fly on the wall. His limp body was thrown against the titanium-steel wall, and collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Damn. Not good. Pulled between helping Steven or retreating, Krayt decided the smartest thing to do would be to fall back. He continued ro sprint down the hall, and rounded the corner where the Elite had punched him in the face. The Hunters behind him slowly advanced on his position, but Krayt was able to outrun them. Reck'ro squirmed in his grasp, but the Spartan kept a good hold on his friend. His heart ached knowing that he was leaving a teammate behind. For some reason, he knew he could have done something...anything to get Steven out of there. Realizing that a serious mistake had been made, Krayt abruptly dropped Reck'ro, and ran back the way he had came. The corner came into view, and Krayt's footsteps grew louder, and repeated in faster rates. His heart pounding and muscles tight, Spartan-014, again, rounded the corner. The Hunters were right in front of him. For two seconds, both the Covenant Hunters and the Spartan stood there, dumbstruck at how close they were to each other. Krayt was the first to respond. Rolling under the Hunter's feet, Krayt pulled a plasma grenade from his belt, activated it, and stuck it to the underbelly of the Hunter. Getting to his feet, Krayt turned to his feet in time to see the explosion. A deafening roar of pain resounded through the corridor, and the Hunter fell to the ground. It's mate, apparently enraged at what happened, charged Krayt.
"Come and get me you bastard."
Nightstalker in hand, Krayt waited for the precise moment to make his move. The Hunter charged, approached the Spartan, and swung its massive arm at him. Quickly jumping out of the way, Krayt avoided the swipe. The Hunter attempted the same move, and this time, Krayt jumped behind the Hunter. His Nighstalker rifle pinned against the soft, orange skin of the Hunter, and Krayt considered what he was about to do. Deciding that this beast was better dead, Krayt pulled the trigger, and the fatal bullets entered the Covenant's body. In a second, the Covenant mammoth grunted in pain, and flopped to the ground, orange bloud spurting from its wound. After the Hunters were killed, everything else seemed to disappear, except for the mangled body of Steven. Spartan-014 slowly approached his teammates body, and examined the wounds. There was no blood, but from he could tell, there were broken bones. Carefully seizing the marine in his hands, Krayt gently made his way back down the corridor, rounded the corridor, and made his way back to the position of Reck'ro...

Ghooj'lits eyes were wide.
"Damnit, reck. Pull yourself together."
He watched the scene as the jackal lost his composure for the second time Ghooj'lit had ever seen. He didnt want him to fall apart just for him. He had made a mistake and now he had to fix it. But Reck had to go on. Slowly, Reck'ro recovered and Ghooj'lit listened to their plan. Smiling-sadly, strangely-he knew it would work. He waited for them to move, and switched to split screen to check their surroundings. Suddenly Ghooj'lit was ponding on the screen. He had no mic to tell them.
"No guys, no. Watch out, WATCH OUT DAMNIT."
Tears swelled in his eyes. Without warning they barely had a chance. Ghoj'lits watched the first part of the fight and switched of the screen. Slowly, he crawled along, deeper into the metallic bowels of this dooming ship. He couldnt watch it. He knew he was surpressing feelings that he shouldnt be, but he couldnt deal with them right now. He would look later. Now, he wouldnt fifnish it if he watched. Suddenly, Ghooj'lit stopped dead in his tracks. The screen INSIDE a conduit, all of the patrols so very close to them, it all made sense. It was the exact same way it had happened last time Ghooj'lit had raided a covenant ship, it was a trap. He heard scuffling on metal behind him, and suddenly he was moving faster then he had thought possible. Somehow, that old elite had escpaed the explosion, and he had been waiting for the pair who had done it all of these years. Ghooj'lits mistake was thinking that he wouldnt escape the explosion, and he was now being fallowed, as was the rest of the team. That elite just might get his revenge, and get a spartan and human prize too...

Reck’ro lay on the ground a moment, unable to see.
He felt a hard surface beneath him, his senses slowly
returning. He felt something cold on his face,
something somewhat sticky. He then realized he
couldn’t breath, something was obstructing his face.
Reacking up he clawed at it, hearing footsteps move
from him. He then realized what the obstruction was.
‘My, my helmet? Had I run out of air? Wait, am I
bleeding? Am not out of air, but actually
drowning?’ Reck’ro then lethargically clawed at his
helmet, trying to find the release clamps. He then
located one of five, and clicked it. Then the second,
and the third. Eventually he found all five, removing
his helmet he gaged and coughed, deep violet fluids
spattered from his mouth as he rolled to his side. The
fluids from his helmet pooling about him. He then
opened his eyes, his vision distorted, but still there. He
reached to his face slowly, pain setting in. He found
the wound, a deep trench in the flesh just left of his
eye. The blade has missed his eye by only a half inch,
leaving it swollen and the vision somewhat hazed. The
Jackal then looked up, a shadow obscuring his view.
What he saw next frightened him, more then even his
recent events. The armored hand of a Covenant Honor
Guard. Reck’ro gave a weak hiss as he made a feeble,
and lethargic attempt to claw at his hand. The brute
gripped his by the wrist and snarled, lifting him off the
ground partially. Reck’ro using this as a distraction, he
summed up whatever strength he had left to remove a
combat knife from his back and swiped it upward, the
weapon making it’s mark between the joint of the
hand and forearm pieces of the armor. The Brute
howled as blood soon emanated from the wound, the
Jackal slicing his wrist clean. The brute then
backhanded the blade from his little hand and threw
him to another behind him. Soon, shots rang down the
hall, Spartan-014's Nightstalker rifle pelting the brute,
bloodied flesh and gore fell from the brute as it now
charged him. The second tossed the Jackal to a third;
who was armed with a brute shot, and ordered him to
retreat while he himself charged as well with his
energy staff. The third Brute let go of his Brute Shot
with one hand to receive the Jackal, then ran back to
the end of the hall. Krayt watched as they tossed the
Jackal about, knowing they would likely interrogate
him only briefly before killing him. He then ignored
his attacker and took one sighted shot, hoping with
whatever was left he would stop him. The shot rang
out, the bullet making it way down the hall. Krayt’s
breath stopped a moment, as he watched the bullet hit.
Blackened blood spouting from the back of the beast’s
neck. The bullet making its unbelievable mark in the
hairline gap between the collar of the armor and the
massive helmet, dropping the Brute in mid run. With
no time to spare the Spartan adjusted his aim, only to
have his weapon knocked from his hands, and to be
thrown to the floor. Another Honor Guard made his
way out, moving for the Jackal. Reck’ro looked up,
watching him run at him. The Jackal knowing he
didn’t had the strength to run, decided he would do
something else. Reaching out, he gripped the brute
shot his dead captor had dropped, and pulled himself
to it, sliding it he then took a calculation and fired.
The weapon recoiled, dragging the Jackal back close
to three feet. The projectile from the weapon then
struck the Brute’s foot, maiming the entire lower half,
sending the beast into the air, only to land next to the
downed Jackal. Reck’ro looked over at the brutalized
beast only five feet from him, waiting to see if he
would get up. Moments passed as smoke rose from it,
the body then started to stir. The beast then lifted itself
on it’s forearms. Looking at the Jackal it growled,
murder in it’s eyes. It then went into motion, crawling
it’s way at the Jackal, Reck’ro then slowly reached
behind his back as it grew closer, pulling his last
grenade from there and pulling the pin. He then held
the clip on it as he watched it some closer. If it was his
fate to die now, he would take this beast with him . . .

Above the struggling pair, two twin burts of blue plasma spat from a vent. The burst lasted fifteen seconds, until the brute was irrefutably dead. Ghooj'lit dropped down on his friend and grabbed the grnade in his hand. The other claws scrabbled around on the ground for the pin. Sighing, as the sliver of metal was restored to its safe position. The other brutes were all long dead from the Nightstalker and Ghooj'lit slumped to the ground. He had run long and hard to get above this part of the ship, and he had not gone unnoticed.
"Well, Reck. You are never going to believe this. . ."
Ghooj'lit would have to warn them anyway, or else they stood no chance whatsoever.

Krayt's eyes widenend as he spotted Ghooj'lit tending to Reck'ro. He's alive? Picking up his Nightstalker rifle, and giving a downed brute one more shot to the head, Krayt made his way over to the pair.
"Ghooj'lit! I...thought you were dead? How did you escape?"
Spartan-014's question startled the grunt, who turned around. Reck'ro stirred and started speaking.
"I'm never going to believe what Ghooj?"
Krayt looked questionly at the friendly grunt, wondering the same thing...

Ghooj’let was then cut off by the sounds of systematic
gun fire in the distace, combined with a barrage of
other ballistics weapons. “What is that?” Reck’ro
asked, but before anyone could answer, a large
mechanical, prerecorded roar echoed down the hall.
Shaking the electronics and reverberating off of the
bulkheads, the roar was distinctive to only two. Soon,
the gunfire drew closer as the door at the other end of
the room; where the Honor Guard had emerged, closed
and sealed tight. They could now hear covenant
weaponry in the distance, but just barely over the gun
fire. Spartan-014 easily identified the ballistics
weapons to consist of BR55s, an M90, and
surprisingly he thought he heard a SRS99E-S2 Anti-
Material Sniper Rifle, this combined with an unusual
weapon, it sounded like a pare of the of the
AngelRazors, but was fired too quickly, in compleat
unison, and with no reload. The grunt’s eyes widened
and his breath stopped as a massive shadow, combined
with others rounded the corner.
“You have got to be kidding me . . .” Reck’ro
muttered. The gunfire now close enough that the flash
could be seen around the corner.
Soon elites rounded the corner, only one facing them.
“Don’t shoot!” The elite called out. “Allies!” Soon
more rounded, as the apparent leader of this squad
approached. His armor was painted black and grey, not like all the rest. “Krayt.” The
Elite started. “What is your current situation?” While
he still spoke, Krayt payed him almost no attention as
he watched the new Talon 9983-X Warhawk round the
corner, it’s polished black body glistened in the light
of the oncoming gun fire. A painted on ‘face’
resembled what was painted onto old fighter planes of
ages past. The gun fire soon stopped. “Notification:
Targets neutralized.” It rang out, its flat, male
mechanical voice just like that of the 9971-A.
“Impressive isn’t it?” The Elite nodded his head in the
direction of the machine.
“If we had this, the fiend would have fallen long
before now. But, at least it troubles us no longer.” one
of the Elites spoke among themselves quitly, looking
over the Mobile Mechanized Weapon’s Platform in a
slight gesture of awe.

Krayt awed at the wonderful Talon machine. Remembering the question the Elite had just asked him, he quickly answered.
"Our current position? Well, we're in one hell of a pinch. One of our marines is badly injured, I have a breach in my suit, and Reck'ro," he pointed to his jackal friend, "is bleeding like crazy because of a god-forsaken brute!"
His answer came off a bit too angry, but the Elite didn't mind. Instead, his quadri-hinged mandibled mouth opened to speak.
"I'm Teco 'Zamoree, the leader of this Sangheili force..."

"Why did you not follow the orginal plan?" asked Teco.
Ghooj'lit steeped forward. "We were affected by some type of systems virus. We went forward and I reminded no one. It was my fault sir."
Ghooj'lits eyes flicked back and forth from corridor to corridor, door to door. He was eager to get somewhere safe.
"We cant stand around. I have just recently uncovered probative and important information pertaining to the mission..."

Reck’ro looked up at the elites as one moved over and
started administering medical attention. Patching up
his wounds, and replenishing his blood/plasma levels.
“How did you make it onto this ship?”

Teco looked to the Jackal, his face showing a pride
when he explained. “Well, when you did not signal the
ship, the lieutenant got worried, and I myself
volunteered to make my way onto the ship and open
the way. My special operations training was quite
useful in this, and even more useful was that you
managed to deactivate local communications. I made
my way across the hull of the ship and managed to
find a maintenance hatch which took me inside the
ship. Using the ‘broken lock’ program you came up
with. I was able to make it inside, and then open an
airlock and call in the machine, uhh, ‘Talon’ I think it
was, as well as my squad of Elites.”

“Confirmation: Affirmative, I am called Talon 9983-X
Warhawk mobile bipedal, mechanized weapons
platform. Serial number; one one nine three, dash, five
four one nine, dash, eight four three, dash, four.” The
Talon’s voice crackling thru it’s speakers. It’s flat,
robotic, male like voice distinctively mechanical.

One of the Elites then checked Steven, taking his
vitals, and administering medical attention as well.

“We should probably head to the armory.” Reck’ro
suggested. His wounds looking better as the biological
recombination pack took affect. Scabbing wounds, and
regenerating tissues.




Later arriving at a long hall, the armory located behind
only one more door. Moving to it, they found it was
sealed. “Reck’ro, report.” Krayt ordered bluntly.

Reck’ro hooked his wrist control panel to the door a
minute, reading the information, and punching buttons
on occasion. “It appears it was welded shut from the
opposite side, and the atmosphere within is completely
void, which is to say it is likely open to space. So it
wouldn’t be a good idea to blow it open either. Our
only alternative route is thru a massive cold storage
room about one click this way.”

Krayt paused a moment, thinking over the idea. “What
about the armory? If it still safe?”

Reck’ro tapped a couple keys and waited. “Yeah, it is
pretty well sealed up. No sign of atmosphere leaks.
But.” The Jackal paused a moment. “I don’t like this.
A room doesn’t just ‘open to space’ all on it’s own. I
think they are trying to cut us off.”

Krayt looked at the Jackal, considering each word as
he digested the information. “How do you know then,
that we can get in thru the cold storage room?”

“Because, we will from there, have to access a sub
level of the ship, and find the emergency exit to the
armory. All ships of this class have one, just incase
there is a fire, others can get out before it blows. The
trap door to it is made of very strong alloys, it would
take brutal force to melt them. Meaning they couldn’t
weld it shut.” The Jackal stopped a moment, thinking.
“Then that is why they sealed this door, because the
actual armory rooms door is made of the same alloys
as the escape hatch, and I believe the walls around it
are as well, to help contain any explosion that might
occur in there. What does worry me however, is that
they should have opened the cold storage room to
space as well. And sense I am reading they didn’t, that
can only mean that it’s a trap. But, if they try to open it
to space while we are inside, we will have fifteen
minutes before the room seals. It is a standard,
automatic safety measure to insure no one is caught in
the room when supplies are jettisoned into space.
Likely they know this, but without short range
communications, any force that tries to obstruct our
path will be minimal. Two or three brutes, a few
grunts, and maybe a hunter pate is we are unlucky. But
nothing really that can stop the Talon. And we don’t
need to worry about getting the Talon into the Sub-
level, because there is a lift that accesses it. It is large
for the purpose of transporting large maintenance
equipment to the sub-level, as a convenience seeing
how there is no other entrance to the level for about
one thousand feet.”

“Is there another way? An air ventilation system or
such we could use?” Krayt asked, wanting to know if
there was any way of getting around walking into a
trap. Even one this small could threaten them if their
opponents are smart enough.

“No, the only air ventilation shaft to the armory is
completely separate from the rest of the ship. Incase of
an explosion, they don’t want the rest of the ships
atmosphere support knocked offline because some
grunt dropped a fuel rod cannon. No offence
Ghooj’let, but you know as well as I do your common
kin are only a hair brighter then mine. Anyway, it
wouldn’t be a good idea to try to find another access to
the sub-level as we don’t want to draw any more
attention to us then we already have. So I recombined
we enter the cold storage room, and let the Talon go
first. It is heavy enough to take any punches they can
throw, and is able to pick up targets more quickly,
even if it’s fire response is a bit slow. And any targets
it finds, it will outline on the HUD of the Elites. Yours
wont because of the compromised hardware I had to
remove, and mine? Well we both know the obvious
reasons why.” The Jackal motioned to his helmet.
“Thankfully the atmosphere transmission vents are
intact, so if I can patch up the breach, and find
something suitable to replace the visor, then I should
be able to at least survive in the toxic environment.
Once we are finished, I recombined the Elites, and
likely Steven if he doesn’t wake by the time I am
finished, wait here. As the Elites are not equipped to
deal with the toxic environment if their shields are
broken. And Steven wount be much good to us
unconscious. Besides, Talon is more then capable of
fattening linear assaults of Covenant. The armory, if
we do this right, will be unaffected by the toxins. Once
we upload the toxins, we will need to wait about ten
minutes, and then vent the ship. Once this is done,
about five minutes, it should be perfectly habitable
again, as the poisonous vapor only clings to organic
tissues, and not metals. Though there are some
exceptions, so that is why I recommend the Elites
wait, because I have no idea what it will do to their,
well, polyvinyl chloride based atmosphere stabilizers.
Sound like a plan?” The Jackal ended, looking calmly,
and assuredly about the plan, and their success.



Minutes later . . .

Darkness lay at rest, frost settling over the cold alloy
floors. Silence enveloped all within as the cold of
death settled in. Each brute waited patently as they sat
atop the massive stack of storage containers along the
right wall. Each container along the bottom nine feet
of the stack were placed close together, with only
small breaks in the wall of alloy where brutes awaited
with their weapons. The left was occupied as well,
large stacks of lighter containers hid their biggest
surprise, and would end this intrusion once and for all.
And then, Tal’dar, brute military officer of Sajah’Hari
will finally put down the beast that had plagued him so
many years as his greatest mistake . . .




The doors to the storage room opened slowly,
pressurized atmosphere expelled from the locking
mechanisms which once held the door firm. Ice
cracked and fell from the door as it yielded, exposing
the blackened depths within. “Talon, move in, and stay
sharp.” Krayt ordered, his words instinctive, as his
mind failed to recognize a brief moment, that the
orders were given to a robot. And he hoped the Talon
would take them as he meant them.

The Warhawk stepped up, it’s voice crackled forth
from it’s speakers quietly, seeming as though it took
into account the situation, and tuned it’s own voice to
resemble Krayt’s volume exactly. “Acknowledgment:
Affirmative. Assault mode adjustment; ‘caution’.” The
Talon then paused. “Warning/Supplication: Threat
level estimated; Lethal. Requesting authorization of all
means of deadly force.”

Krayt then paused a moment, not used to having to
‘authorize’ weapons use. His team normally just did
what they had to, to survive. Reck’ro then looked at
Spartan-014 a moment. “That would probably be a
good idea, we have no idea what is waiting for us in
here.”

Krayt then decided. “Alright, Go ahead and light
things up at the first sign of trouble.” Again, Krayt
spoke in metaphor, before he realized once more, the
robot might not take his metaphor the way he
intended.”

“Confirmation: Use of all means of deadly force
authorized.” The Talon started. Giving first a quite,
prerecorded ‘roar’ before continuing. “Enemy
nullification procedure ‘no mercy’ activated. Lets’
dance . . .” The Talon finished, it’s last sentence
contrasting it’s common, technical nomenclature.

The rest of the team them moved in behind the
Warhawk. watching each others flanks, waiting for the
trap to spring . . .

Reck’ro then looking to the right side of the room,
looked at all of the storage containers, his eyes then
widened. “This isn’t a trap; its’ a shooting gallery!”
And with those words, suddenly a vast number of
carbine, brute shot, and plasma rifle rounds started to
bare down on their position.

The group then repositioned, moving behind the
Talon, they started to fire back as the doors to the cold
storage room then sealing, locking them in, adding the
last touch that made this trap unescapable. The Talon
then turned, watching the gun fire for nearly three
seconds. “Fifteen-, nineteen-, twenty-seven targets
located. Targets locked, combat engaged.” After the
registration, the Warhawk cycled through it’s
weapons, then decided to use it’s phase
induced plasma cannons. It then locked onto the
largest localized group of targets, and estimated the
positional target to yield the highest death toll. Then,
stepping one leg forward, the Talon knelt partially
bracing itself. Then with a deafening prerecorded
‘roar’, the Talon charged it’s plasma cannons. Light
glowing brightly from the weapons as they focused.
Soon, twin bolts of unstable, superheated plasma raced
across the room, striking the storage container and
detonating. The explosion was catastrophic,
superheated plasma melting holes into the alloy
container, the force of the blast knocking numbers of
them over. Screams and hollers over took the room as
the Talon then gave a status report. “Notification:
Eleven targets neutralized.”

Reck’ro fired around the Talon, verbally keeping track
of the number of kills he made subconsciously. Soon a
loud crash caught everyone but the Talon’s attention.
And from behind, a large number of smaller storage
container flew from their place as a hunter pare now
charged their backs . . .

Krayt immediately turned on heel, and saw a pair of hunters. Their armor seemed to shimmer with a bright black color, and was beautiful to look at.
"Incoming! Krayt shouted to the group. "Hunters at our rear!"
Reck'ro turned around too, and gasped when he saw the behemoths charging them. The Talon didn't respond, but continued to fire on the brutes. Diving out of the way, Reck'ro and Krayt managed to avoid the swipe of the mighty hunters, but the Talon wasn't as fortunate. It seemed to fly through the air as one of the hunters rammed into it.
"Reck'ro," Krayt began. "Aim for those barrels."
The Spartan pointed a long finger towards a series of barrels directly behind the now stopped hunters.
"I'll finish the brutes."
Reck'ro nodded his head, and pulled out his 'X' pistol. He pointed it at the barrels, and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew through the air, and buried itself deep inside of the barrel. The series of barrels around it exploded, and a searing flame enveloped the hunters. A loud roar of pain echoed throughout the cold storage room as the hunters breathed their last, and fell to the ground. Krayt watched the hunters fall, and then immediately turned his attention towards the remaining three brutes. Cocking his head towards the ground, and doing a double take, the Spartan noticed a large stack of plasma grenades next to him on the floor. Grabbing three, he activated all of them, and tossed them into the air. Three balls of light blue light swiftly hovered through the air, and towards their targets. The brutes stopped, apparently suprised of the incoming grenades. There was little time to respond for them, and their lives were cut short when a plasma grenade attached to each of them.
"Great throw," remarked Reck'ro.
Spartan-014 turned his head, and smiled. Even though the jackal couldn't see the smile, he knew it was there.
"Thanks..."

Ghooj'lit smiled at Reck'ros comment on their kin and proceeded with him. He had known of a trap. He just couldnt figure out what living covenant was setting it. He would speak with Reck about it later. As they entered the room and the fighting started, Ghooj'lit stood at the base of the talon's legs, squeezing off shots at targets. When the hunters rammed the device Ghooj'lit held on for dear life. Next thing he knew he was sitting behind three brutes with plasma grenades on their faces. Ghooj'lit's face whitened.
"Shit."
Diving he ended up behind the Talon again and heard three triple explosions. Bits of fur flew over his head and when it was over he looked up to see Reck'ro congratulating that one white-armored guy. Ghooj'lit just called him spartan. He couldnt remember his name. Apparently he hads thrown the grenades. Smiling, Ghooj'lit glanced behind him and saw something very peculiar. Behind him in the shadows was a small pruple device. Approaching it carefully, Ghooj'lit examined it. It seemed to be recording him.
"Reck, you might want to see this."
Ghooj'lit examined the antenna on top as Reck'ro perked up and looked over. The antenna was blinking and Ghooj'lit looked closer. Two small cords stuck out of the side and rean into a duct..
"Just a barrelf of shit today huh."
Ghooj'liut winced at his own cynicism. Reck'ro never cursed but Ghooj'lit seemed to be downgrading lately. Shaking his head as Reck'ro walked over he continued looking the divice over. It was a linking device device. A very old d4esign, maybe hundreds of years old. And it wasnt hooked up by electronics to the network that the virus had been introduced into. Instead it was direct link through cords and if the operator had the sense of mind to make sure it was protected from scrambling from here, it was certainly protected at the source. Jumping backwards, Ghooj'lit pulled his pistol and charged it to maximum. Releasing the energy inside he watched as Reck'ro sheided his eyes and the device melted into bits.
"What was that and why did you fry it?" Asked Reck'ro.
Ghooj'lit sighed. "Trouble, and because I dont like it."

(OOC: New posts coming soon. Plus this is a bump up.)