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Then he saw movement as hunched bodies dashed from one scrap of cover to the next. There were four of them, including a blue-armored Elite. The Elite charged recklessly forward, firing as he came.
He’d engaged such Elites before—there was some significance to the aliens’ armor colors—and they always fought like aggressive rookies. A thin smile touched the Master Chief’s lips. He ignored the alien’s badly-placed shots, stood, and returned fire. The Elite’s advance stalled, and the Grunts began to fall back toward a stand of trees. His threat indicator sounded a warning and a red arrow pointed to the right. The Master Chief drew and primed an M9 HE-DP grenade.
He turned just in time to see another Elite—this one in the scarlet armor of a veteran—charge him. The grenade was already in hand, and the distance to the target was sufficient, so the soldier let the M9 fly. The grenade detonated with a loudwhump! and tossed the enemy soldier into the air, while stripping a nearby tree of half its branches.
The rookie was close now, and roared a battle cry. The alien hosed the Master Chief with plasma fire. His shields dropped precipitously.
The Spartan backed away, fired his assault rifle in short controlled bursts, and finally managed to knock the remaining Elite off his feet.
With their leader down, the Grunts broke ranks and began to scamper away. The Master Chief cut their retreat short in a hail of bullets.
He eased up on the trigger, felt the silence settle in around him, and knew he had made a mistake. The veteran had damned near blindsided him. How?
He realized with a start that he was still fighting like part of a unit. Though he was trained to act independently, he had spent most of his military career as part of a team. The Elite had managed to flank him because his was simply accustomed to one of his fellow Spartans watching out for him.
He was cut off from the chain of command, alone, and most likely surrounded by the enemy. He nodded, his face grim behind the mirrored visor. This mission would require a major revision in his tactics.
He pushed his way up through a meadow thick with knee-high, spiky grass. He could hear the distant chatter of automatic weapons fire and knew some Marines were somewhere up ahead.
He sprinted toward the sound of battle. Perhaps he wouldn’t be on his own for long.
Deployment+00 hours:05 minutes:08 seconds (Captain Keyes’ Mission Clock) / Lifeboat Kilo Tango Victor 17, in emergency descent to surface of Halo.
Maybe it was because theAutumn ’s navigator, Ensign Lovell, was at the controls, or maybe it was simply a matter of good luck, but whatever the reason, the rest of the trip down through Halo’s atmosphere was completely uneventful. So peaceful that it made Keyes nervous.
“Where would you like me to put her down, sir?” Lovell inquired, as the lifeboat skimmed a grassy plain.
“Anywhere,” Keyes answered, “so long as there aren’t any Covenant forces around. Some cover would be nice—since this boat will act like a magnet if we leave it out in the open.”