He had known they would come back, although he was not sure when. The Covenant grew restless at the constant loss of soldiers, and he had sensed it for years. Lieutenant Jon Woods had a clear imprint of this certain memory on his mind, and it had stuck there ever since it had occurred. He drummed his long, gloved fingers along his M90 Assault Shotgun waiting. Through his visor he saw a small Military Clock which read, through a slight orange hue, 2359. One Minute, He thought, One minute until I can resume my post. One more minute until I can guard the main Entrance to Forerunner Gas Mine Sector 12 'Collosus'. Woods was stationed in the 'trench', as his Unit had named it, which was first priority.

After what seemed like eons, his Military Clock changed to an even 2400. Jon pulled down his firearm in relaxation, but only for a second. A tap on the shoulder set him in a spin, about-face and in crouched position. He aimed the gun at his attacker's gut. Slowly he came to realize he was looking at the familiar MJOLNIR VI set of Armor, but with a Green tint, unlike his own Purple. Rising to his feet he looked into the visor of his ally and pulled two fingers across his own in the shape of a smile, representing the Spartan Smile hand-signal they had been trained to use. Alicia Jackson just nodded at the hand movement he had just made and thrust out her BR55 Battle Rifle. Woods did exactly the same with his M90 and they switched. With another nod, he spun back around and walked towards the lift. Alicia had a way of making him feel small with her gaze, as if she had two Galileian Spartan Lasers implanted in her eyes. Before walking into the large lift, he checked in the corner of his visor, showing the Clock had already reached 0002. Time was moving very slow...slower than normal, but at the moment took no attention to it. He had already launched up through to the third level, nicknamed Outlook. Crouching into his free fall he hung the Battle Rifle on his back and picked up the discarded Particle Beam Rifle. Jon pulled the scope up immediately and jumped up on the railing. He swept the area twice when he stopped at Alicia who flicked her finger up to the side of her visor, activating the Radio.

"Is Private Dick Marst at your position?" She said, with a hard sense of demand. Her voice, even through her harsh tone was like a breath of fresh air in this Gas Mine and it took several seconds to respond to her question. He quickly touched the side of his own visor and replied.

"No. I cannot see the Private patrolling either. You?" His voice was slightly higher than he had intended, but even still, he pulled up the Rifle again and zoomed into Alicia's position. A wide shake of the head told him that she was resorting to use more body language than her voice. Even so, Jon wished to hear her speak again, but did not press the subject, because he was cut off before his finger moved to his visor. A sharp pain, more agonizing than he had even experienced shot across his low back. Fire erupted in his legs as he descended from the Outlook and fell hard onto the cold ground, cracking his visor. Woods cringed as the pain spread through his body, but he did not dare scream in horror, for it would lead to his certain death. A loud clank found that a second body had fallen near his, but closer to the lift and soon toppled over into it, sending him back to the Outlook. Only for a split second, he had recognized the familiar Blue Phoenix on his shoulder, revealing his identity as Private Marst. His arm fought the increasing pain and clicked on his Radio.

"Dick is dead," He said simply. The lift's gravity pulse hindered his site, but still could see the Spartan's response. She looked a bit taken a-back, but still flicked up her finger to her Visor.

"Are you sure?" She asked, a slight horror in her voice, "How do you..." Jon pointed up to the Third Level. She followed his finger and holstered her Shotgun and pulled out her SRS99C-S2 AM Sniper Rifle. Slowly strafing to her left, she found cover behind the large wall, still looking through her scope. Jon had heard a small squeal in his radio, and activated the translator AI.

"Good job, War," said a long drawn out 'hissing' voice. The person who he had called War grunted in satisfaction, which had told Woods one thing. War was used for pure physical missions, having more brawn than brain.

"Have we...Won?" asked a cowering, weak voice. He then heard the familiar loading of a Particle Beam Rifle.

"I don't know, Famine, why don't you have a look?" It was the same hissing voice, this time much more fierce as Jon heard the Rifle being shoved into the chest of Famine and the familiar sound of the Scope whirring, "What do you see?" The Spartan held his breath, hoping to God that he wouldn't spot Jackson.

"N-Nothing," Famine stuttered and the scope retracted. Jon let out a large sigh of relief.

"Even so," continued the hissing voice, "Pestilence and War, patrol this Mine and make damn good no one is left. Famine is staying with me." A slight whimper knew that Famine direly feared the person. but did not refuse. The giant clops of feet hitting metal left Jon wondering how such a beast snuck up on him. His finger tapped the side of his head again.

"They're coming for you. If you want to kill one, shoot the one not holding the Beam Rifle. It would help so much," there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that wasn't exactly meant. He didn't get a response, but he didn't expect one, not in the heat of battle. Still, after a few minutes, 2 shots from her S2 left clouds of smoke revealing her position. No screams of pain or horror came from above him, but a long sinister laugh.

"Get a lock on her position," The voice said, "War, Pestilence, We've found one. Come below our position." Before the voice had even finished he had keyed his own mic.

"You've been spotted. Get the artifact and flee. I'm contacting a Pelican." Quickly, Jon flicked through the channels until he found the UNSC Orbital Space Contact Line.

"Forerunner Gas Mine Sector 12 Colossus requires immediate evacuation via Pelican. I Repeat, Forerunner Gas Mine Sector 12 requires immediate Evac, Over." Clutching at his heart, he wondered if it would be enough. How long would it take for a Pelican to get out here? They were on the Installation 05 Halo. Millions of miles away from Earth, but there was a slight chance. A Slight chance that they could get here in time with Slip Space.

The Artifact. Its protection was dire. If it was not here, he would have no problem sacrificing himself to the attackers. Still, what really bothered Woods was the two Rifle shots Alicia had discharged. Both had hit their mark, he had no doubt of that, but the person did not get harmed. Perhaps he wasn't an Elite? Perhaps he was a Hunter. No, He thought, the AI in my suit hadn't been programmed to translate Hunter speak, if they even spoke at all. Surely even a Golden Elite couldn't survive two shots to the head. All of these contradicting thoughts had ceased when he saw one creature emerge from the left. It was big, Apelike and had thick matted down brown fur. He could see large teeth protruding out of its long head and muscles that seemed to bulge out of their armor. He was sure, if he would ever attack one hand to hand, even in his MJOLNIR VI armor, that he would lose. In one head he held a peculiar weapon with a large bayonet on the end. Just the look of it made his legs start to flame again.

The second person who had walked out did not look Apelike at all. It was the familiar shape of an Elite, with black armor and two Needlers in its hands. On his shoulder, he had seen, was a symbol of a Human Skull, colored Green. Recognizing this, he saw the Ape's symbol as a Blue skull. They were walking steadily towards Jackson.

"Stop," said the hissing voice, which had surprised Jon, "We are not after a Demon, we are after the Key. So Pestilence, keep guard as we transport it."

"Where?" asked Pestilence, "We do not know the location of this item, Death!" There was a loud screaming sound as the Needler wielding Elite fell down to the ground at Death's feet, two large burns through its stomach, spewing out purple blood. He turned to War.

"Do you recognize the Key?" Death asked, as calm as he was before, showing no anger or remorse at the loss of a teammate. The ape slightly shook his head as the fellow Elite glowered at him. Retracting his Energy Sword he pointed one finger at a glowing green canister.

"Grab it and lets go." The ape moved to the box and lifted it above his head. Jon winced as he knew that his whole plan had been a failure, but one silver lining struck. The sickening sound of a butt of the Metal S2 hit flesh. Jackson had made one final attempt to defend herself, but had failed. The shrill sinister laugh had shot through the radio again. He hoisted up the Spartan into the air by her neck.

"Who else is here, Demon?" He asked, with a voice that seemed to drop the temperature by 10 degrees. Her head had turned away from Woods, and looked up at the Outlook. She did not speak.

"I asked you a question," He demanded, "Who...Else...Is...Here?" He heard her start to moan in pain, as he knew Death's hand gripped harder.

"No one," She squealed as the Elite activated the Energy Sword again. The familiar pang of Armor Piercing, Fin Stabilized, Discarding Saboted Rounds rebounded off Death's helmet as he looked over his shoulder. The ape directed his gaze at the Outlook as well, and when seeing several Humans sliding down a long rope, threw the canister behind and pulled out the odd weapon with the bayonet.

"No!" shouted the Elite, throwing down Alicia and jumping towards the Key. When it hit the Conveyor Belt, the Container exploded, sending the Artifact flying. It tumbled down and bounced down the Belt until it reached the end of the line, sending it down a dark hole. Death screamed and barreled towards War. Jon had not seen the Sword go in to the Ape, but saw two energy points protruding out from its stomach. War fell down with a shuttering thud. Again, he heard several more semiautomatic shots fire at Elite Armor, and had guess whoever had come was on their side, trying to kill Famine, but in vain. Two fast discharges of the Beam Rifle was followed by a yell in pain and the familiar overheating sound. Another sound of Metal hitting flesh told one of his Allies had meleed the Elite, sending it off the Outlook and down to the level above Jon. A triumphant yell had told him the Pelican had come and with several Marines. Two of them had jumped down to the lift and spotted the fallen Spartan.

"Is he...Is he alive?" a Marine asked, and his question was quickly answered as Woods nodded his head, "We've got a Down Spartan! Down Spartan near the lift! Can you get up?" -- The last sentence was directed at him and Jon had shook his head -- "Okay, just hold tight, we'll get you up to the Pelican. Do you have any other men down here?" This question made him look up at Jackson.

"One," he said quietly and pointed to the fellow soldier. The Marine nodded and held his MA5B ICWS Assault Rifle tight and ran to the trench with 5 other Marines who had just jumped down after him. Four Marines stood between Death and the Lift, while the two others grabbed the woman and backed to the the lift. He did not see what they did with Alicia, but from the orders given, he gathered that she was being carried up to the Pelican via rope. The four Marines however stood still, all Assault Rifles trained on the Elite, who had just laughed. Death had started to walk forward and the result was being fired upon by all four. He chose one Marine at a time and stabbed them through the gut with his Sword.

He did not see what happened next, as two Marines had picked him up be the shoulders and turned him to face the Outlook. They hooked him up to the rope and started the Automatic retractor that pulled him through the Main Entrance. The Two Marines, however stood down below as the rope was pulled up. They shot their Rifles together at the Elite that had just flown up the lift. The ceiling had blocked his site, so he just looked straight at the wall in front of him. The same textures seemed to have passed him hundreds of times before he saw the light shine through the top. The sun came as unhappy greeting, as being in a dark mine had shielded him from such light. It blinded Jon for several minutes, before his visor adjusted, and was pulled up into the Pelican bay. With very limited sight, he still saw two Marines over himself, and Alicia sitting in one of the seats attached to the side.

"You are on a D77H-TCI Pelican, Bravo 043. We will be putting you under gas for the trip back, so hold tight," A Marine said calmly. Jon felt his Helmet being lifted off and a small gas mask pulled over his face. Soon he started to black out, and the world shifted away from his mind...

"Good! You're awake," said an unfamiliar voice. The Spartan opened up his eyes and looked around at his surroundings. He was in a large white room with several chairs attached to the side of the wall. His bed started to rise, putting him in an almost sitting position. Jon moved around his neck examining what he was wearing. His MJOLNIR armor had been removed and instead he wore a simple Hospital Gown. In front of him was a man in a white suit and hat. He was clean shaven and had very large eyebrows. He had put out his hand.

"I'm Sergeant Robert T. Garrison and I have been monitoring your progression through your surgery." The Spartan looked at him with his head slightly tilted.

"Surgery?" The Sergeant nodded.

"Try to move your legs," He said, which was a peculiar demand.

"...My legs. They don-" Jon tried to tell him, but Robert had held up his hand.

"I know what happened to your legs. Just try," The Spartan tried to move his left leg and was answered with a Metallic Energy whir. Only one this had struck through his mind.

"You replaced my legs...?" The Sergeant smiled a bit and shook his head. crouching down at the front of the bed, Jon had heard him press a small button, and felt the bed split below him and slowing fell through into a small chair. As he examined it Woods knew it was not a chair, it was the Covenant Reconnaissance and Rapid Attack vehicle, named by the Corps 'Ghost'.

"We couldn't just replace your legs. Your central nerval system and spine were ruptured when we found you. Such minimal additions as Bionic legs wouldn't have been enough, so we chose something much more Prototypical. We salvaged a full and untouched Ghost several years ago for analysis, and we thought that since we have done all we could, we could make you a 'wheelchair' as they would've called it more than 500 years ago. By connecting the untouched part of your Spinal Cord into the main energy source, allowing you to utilize your movements the same as you would before this incident, but quite more features. At walking speed you will be going faster than any other infantry, and at running speed, you can outrun any vehicle you meet, should you need to escape. It may take you several weeks to get used to the revamped body, but it will grow on you over time. I just have a few questions to ask you..." The Sergeant paused for a minute to allow the Spartan to absorb all that was said.

"Go ahead," He said slowly.

"Do you know what you were hit with that could cause so much damage, but not actually kill you?" Robert asked, again allowing Jon to absorb the question.

"It was a huge weapon with a large Bayonet on the end. I have no idea what it fired, but a strike from the blade is deadly, and the ammunition must be more," Sergeant Garrison thought the answer over and continued on.

"Two of our Marines saw something...large and fur covered laying on the ground with two plasma marks through its back, yet you had nothing that shaped on you. The only weapon that fit the description was in the hands of the Elite. Was the larger creature on your side and...What was it, exactly?" The last part was added with a bit of sickness.

"He was the enemy and was killed by his own ally. As for what it was...It was dumber than an Elite. It spoke in growls and grunts...Almost...Brutish," The Spartan spoke. Robert looked away from him and said in a sad expression.

"Then you can't explain why they could not be killed, even by a shot to the head, I suppose?" He looked over his shoulder at the Spartan to be met with a slight shake of the head, "On another subject, your armor is in the holding dock, and you will be armed with a M6D HE Magnum Sidearm and a BR55 Battle Rifle, is that understood?" Jon nodded and slowly drove the Ghost out of the split bed.

The memory faded to a white and Lieutenant Jon H. Woods slipped back into the present...