The Master Chief overlooked the scene.

He was crouched in a ventilation shaft that passed directly above a short, wide corridor. The floors were the colour of rusty copper, occasionally disrupted by the presence of black burn marks, inflicted most probably by grenade explosions. There were many ledges lining the sides of the walls, which were connected to the ground by steel stairs. Nuts and bolts lined the sides of both these objects.

The ledges were occupied.

Chief scanned the area with a slow turn of his head. First he noticed the Grunts. These stunted aliens were encased in sleeveless bodysuits, and had large, triangular containers on their backs. Chief knew these replicated the temperature conditions of the Grunts' home planet.

Next, he focused on the Jackals. These aliens stood waistline to the seven foot Master Chief, and looked like humanoid vultures, with large hooked beaks, filled with pin like teeth, and beady eyes. They communicated by grating squawks.

From Master Chief's point of view, the platoon of aliens seemed to be rather unfocused and disordered. They were clearly bored. Some of the Grunts were tossing their plasma pistols from hand to hand. Others were busy chatting, filling the air with squeals and barks. Only the Jackals remained vigilant, occasionally snapping at the Grunts to keep them in line. The platoons formation was scattered and full of holes.

It was still too tight.

A voice sounded in Chief's ear. It was Cortana, his A.I.

"Forty percent, Chief." As always, Cortana's voice sounded oddly double-toned, as though she was speaking from inside his helmet, yet in his head at the same time.

"Forty percent what?", asked Chief.

"Forty percent chance of frontal assault success. The group formation is too well knit."

"Then I guess we'll have to shake things up." Chief unclipped a grenade from his belt. Pulled out the pin.

And threw it.

The grenade soared in a graceful arc. It landed on the copper floor, into a midst of Grunts, and exploded. The resulting fragments carried with them bits of Grunt flesh.

The Chief had already dropped from his perch in the shaft. As he fell, he punched a confused Jackal in the back of the head. The alien's neck bones snapped like twigs, and the creature crumpled.

Chief's legs had barely touched the ground before he threw another grenade. This one didn't actually kill anything, but instead hurled the main body of Grunts away from each other. The ones on the higher floors could not see what was going on, as the ledges obscured their vision.

Chief quickly spun behind a pillar supporting the ledges, pressing his back against it. He took out his assault rifle and rested it on his forearm. The weapon was angular, with a swollen front end. It had been cleaned and checked, so Chief knew it would not jam. The only problem was conserving ammo.

Cortana spoke, "Sixty percent now, Chief."

"Good odds."

By now, the platoon had regained their focus. Grunts shifted into an assortment of attack formations, ranging from four to six soldiers per group. Jackals pressed buttons on their metal wristbands and energy shields fizzed into existence, their circular shape distorting the long faces behind them. One Jackal snarled an order in a foreign language, and a handful of Grunts began to shift toward the pillar where Master Chief was standing.

Cortana spoke, "They've formed up. Chances have dropped to fifty percent. Might I suggest falling back and-"

Chief leapt out of hiding. Turning toward the platoon, he squeezed the trigger once, and a spray of bullets whistled from the barrel. They passed through the head of one Grunt and penetrated several others in a spray of blue blood. A number of Grunts fell screaming to the floor.

Chief barely reached the opposite pillar before a retort of blue plasma fire sizzled past him. The air was almost obscured by the unrelenting hail of energy, and Chief had to scrunch himself together like an accordion to avoid being burned.

"…OR you could do that," Cortana admitted. "Do you know what you've done?"

"Yeah," Chief said, "I've pissed them off."

The platoon was continuing to fire.

"You certainly have," Cortana said. "Do you have a plan?"

In reply, Chief unclipped another grenade-his last one-and threw it up, over the ledge, and into the middle of the platoon. There were shrieks and squawks of alarm, and the plasma fire dwindled considerably. This was followed by a loud explosion, and a number of Grunt bodies flying through the air and slamming against the wall. Blue liquid spread abruptly along the floor.

"Main force dealt with," Cortana reported. "Finish them."

Chief swung round the pillar. There were a number of Grunts teetering unsteadily on their feet. Chief didn't even waste ammunition on them, just struck them in the back of the neck. They collapsed without a sound.

An alarm sounded in the Master Chief's helmet as a number of Jackal energy blasts struck him in the shoulders. Reacting instinctively, he whipped around and, as his training had taught him, aimed at the small firing embrasure on the left of the Jackal. He fired twice. The first shot hit the Jackal in the hand. Reeling back, it opened its mouth to scream, but never got a chance. The second wave of bullets entered its mouth and exited through its skull. The Jackal fell to the ground with a gurgling rasp.

Chief leapt up as high as he could go. A plasma grenade, thrown by another Jackal, passed harmlessly between his legs. Chief landed on the uppermost platform and thundered his leg through the air. It impacted on a cowering Jackal's shield, and the sheer force of the blow caused it to simply fold with a crackle of energy. Chief grabbed the alien's arm, breaking it in the process, and spun around. The Jackal's frail body shot off the ledge and crashed into the other surviving vulture-alien. There was a loud sound of bone breaking, and the two Jackals slumped against the wall.

All was still.

Master Chief stood on the ledge a few feet above ground level and surveyed the damage. Grunt bodies littered the room, with a few Jackal corpses in amongst them. There was no sign of any higher ranking Covenant members. Inside his helmet, Chief frowned.

This was not the place they were looking for.

"Call it in, Cortana," he said. "We'll try somewhere else."