Author's Notes: This is a work in progress detailing the death of Gamma Unit Hero Lieutenant Kennedy. It is the final entry I began in a Role Play thread I created a year backed called "Struggle in New Mombasa", I killed Kennedy off when the thread got out of hand with people who joined, had no idea on how to RP, and generally made it into a bad RP. So This is the story of how Kennedy Died. Enjoy.

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The Death of Lt. Kennedy

Part 1 of 2

It was 0800hours on day 210 on the battle on the Ark. The sun was just rising over the ridge of the fallen Frigate Tomahawk. And Kennedy's men were due for a Recon mission roughly 120 klicks from the crash site. Their job was to make sure the area was clear of covenant ground forces and report back at 1800 hours for dust off. Kennedy knew he wouldn't be making it back. He knew this because he had seen death during their drop to the surface on day 205. As Kennedy looked around the bay of the Pelican he heard an all too familiar voice behind him.

"Kennedy you old dog, I can't believe your still kickin'." The deep rough voice said. As Kennedy turned around he saw the tag. Major Jean Barkalo but he looked to be young.

"Barkalo?!" he coughed. "I thought saw you die on the second ring, you had a spiker round through your chest."

"You saw my father el tee." He replied with the same smirk his father Zander used to have when ever he gave a lecture. "Listen; brass told me to tell you that if anything were to happen to you, your squad would go under my command two days after your burial."

"Sounds like ONI Section III knows something I don't." Kennedy whispered to himself. "Alright Major you just take care of em for me alright?"

Barkalo just nodded and rushed off to tend to a marine that called him over. The brass had something up their sleeve, and Kennedy knew it. "Alright you leathernecks!" Kennedy called out turning his attention to his men. They were all tired, battered, and bruised…hell Owens had just been released from the Med lab a few hours before the briefing. "Our job is simple, we are to sweep and clear the area and make sure none of those covenant bastards are snooping around UNSC controlled territory. Are we clear on that?!"

"Aooh!" is all he heard resonating over the roar of the Pelican's engines as it lifted off of the make shift landing pad. Bravo Two-Three was heading to their LZ, Grid 17A: "The hot zone"