The Pelican flew over the large body of water that is the Shian Sea. Jones stared off, then turned to the four Marines - Jamenson, Beckford, Dixon, and Klump - who were conversing with eachother.

"Hey, Dickie. You know what I think?" Private Klump asked.

"I don't care." Lance Corporal Dixon said back.

"I think it was them Innies who did it."

"The rebels? Can you be any more senseless? Their presence isn't even that strong on Xidia."

"It was probably those crazy children. Who do you think it was, Becky?"

"Well, no one knows, and no one gives a shit." Corporal Beckford joined in.

"Honestly, I've got a scary feeling about this."

"Scary? You don't need to be "scared" of anything, besides, we've got a Spartan here with us. "Scared" never exists when one of them are around."

Jones looked at Klump, Beckford, and Dixon, who chuckled at him. "Idiots..." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, stooges. Cut the chatter and stay focused." Sergeant Jamenson cut in. Unlike the personnel on the Bossu, these Marines didn't express any fear in him.

The Skilute Relay Outpost came into sight, "We're approaching LZ." The Pilot acknowledged, turning the Pelican's troop bay towards the landing pad. "Go, go go! Move it, Marines. Get that outpost back online." Jones raised his MA5C, and slowly entered, followed by the Marines. This first corridor was illuminated by dimmed lights, so Jones and the Marines activated their flashlights. Heartless Winter began briefing, "Okay, with the power in the deeper areas turned off, you'll have to head for the emergency generator room and turn it back on manually. But first, head for the lock controls."

The team scanned the area, and moved into the next room. This one was littered with bodies of technicians, with blood-stained and scarred walls. "Goddamn." Jones cursed. The Marines started to get tideous, especially Klump. "Something's not right. This couldn't have been rebels, this has to be the-" Dixon started, but was cut off by Beckford. "Don't you say it!" He snapped. "Come on. Who else could it have been? The critters?" Jamenson intervened. "That's enough!" He ordered. Heartless Winter began scanning. "Hmm...those burns, they look like they were done by directed energy. Marines, hold your positions, we'll check it out. Keep searching, Ensign."

The Marines held position, as Jones moved through corridors, and came to a U-shaped corridor. "I'm reading heat signatures in the hall ahead." Heartless Winter warned. It was here that Jones noticed a short, stubby figure quickly running off. "What was that thing?" He questioned. "I'm not sure. Follow it." Heartless Winter provided. Jones did so, and proceeded down this U-shaped hall. It lead to a door that was closing, with Jones catching a glimpse of the figure's legs. He moved closer, slowly, and the door automatically opened. "This looks like the lock control room. Try that lever right there." Jones walked up to the lever against the wall, dropped his Assault Rifle, and turned the lever with both hands. "Good. Now we could access the deeper parts."

The lights flickered briefly, while screams and gunfire were heard. Jones rushed back to the fireteam, Assault Rifle in hand. The fireteam was intact; the walls were littered with bullet holes with the addition of casings on the floor. "Damnit, where'd his ass go?" Jamenson came out, slowly. "What the hell is going on here?" Dixon said. "I take it back. Let's get this generator back on and get the hell out of here." Klump cried. Jones went through the door, and came to a lightened corridor. A puddle was expanding from a leak coming from a pipe, and there were more corpses.

As Jones moved in, the door slammed shut, separating him from Beckford, Klump, Jamenson, and Dixon. "Hey...hey! What the hell man?" Klump cursed. The Marines banged on the door. "What the hell's going on!" Beckford cried. "Calm down, Marines. It's just a fault, surely. The Spartan will find a way to f-" Jamenson's sentence was cut off by static, followed by the corridor's lights going off. "Shit. Knocked out our comms too." Jones murmured. "This is the passage to the generator room. Be careful, I'm getting more heat signatures." Jones moved slowly down this darkened corridor, carefully gripping his weapon. "Okay. Whoever you are, wherever you are, come out your little hiding place." He taunted. After a turn down the corridor, he came to a circular room, with three separated doors. The center door had a blinking light sign over it labeled "Generator" appeared. This door was open, and there was another, much taller figure standing there. It soon slammed shut.

"Ensign, you've got movement! Converging on your position now!"

"Marines, if you read me, stay alert. I'm about to be flanked."

The left and right doors opened, and out came familiar figures. They were small bipedal, orange armored arthoropods, 5'6 in height. "What the hell are those?" Jones said. "Analyzing...Designation "Unggoy", classified "Grunts". Minor class. They're a pushover for a Spartan." Heartless Winter explained. The Grunts wielded Plasma Pistols, firing at Jones as his shields flared. He, unfortunately, was confused. "What are you waiting for? Return fire." Jones did so, firing at one group of the Grunts, managing to easily mow them down. "Heh. Little bastards. They ain't so tough." The second group of Grunts began tossing Plasma Grenades at him. "Ah shit." He cursed, narrowly avoiding them, but their splash damage knocked his shields out. "Take cover, quickly." Heartless Winter advised. Jones took cover behind a box, allowing his shields to recharge, then equipped his M6L. He charged out and killed the last group of Grunts with headshots.

After clearing this circular room, the Generator room door opened, with the previously seen figure standing infront of the door. "This guy's bigger." Jones said. "Designation "Jiralhanae", classified "Brutes". Also Minor class. You may need to take out his Power Armor first." Heartless Winter explained for the second time. The Brute fired a Spiker, which impaled the walls, and hit Jones, but his shields protected him. In return, he reloaded his MA5C and fired it directly into the Brute, easily destroying the Power Armor, and proceeded to finish it with the M6L. "Think twice before you copy us, bitch." He taunted.

In the Generator room, Jones flipped a lever, but nothing happened. "So, it's busted?" He questioned. "No, I estimate thirty minutes until the power comes back on." Jones sighed, leaned against the wall, and rested his head on his arm.


The power came back on, with sparks coming from the panel. Jones came back to attention, noticing his arm was touching a spike that was enlodged into his armor. He pulled it out, dropping it. Eventually, radio chatter began flooding his COM's, as a rumble took place. He looked up at a small window in the cieling, and overlooked a ship fly over; the same one that was at the darker end of Xidia in orbit. The ship, along with the previously encountered infantry, belonged to a coalition that the humans expected not to encounter fifty-eight years ago. It was the faction that worshipped an ancient race, and destroyed many of the UNSC's valuable colonies.

It was the Covenant.