SECTION II

A STROLL IN THE PARK

Ninth Age of Reclamation (Covenant Holy Calendar) /

Flight Commander's Cockpit/ Leading Banshee, Covenant Forces 1,178th Air Corps Wing

Ft. Cdr. Zangumikus lay down in his Banshee's cockpit while scanning the vicinity of the place after eliminating out the group of the human's odd vehicles that moved on four wheels. It was a privilege for his race, the Sangheili to pilot aircraft such as this and lead the troops on the battlegrounds. They had lizard-like heads, and strong, athletic bodies. The Sangheili always wore battle armor covered from head to toe that was protected by an energy shield that flickered white when fired at. Then his radar detected a few human aircrafts and he led his wing and pursued them as they were fleeing away. These ridiculous pieces of inferior flying tools were very slow compared to the Banshees and it didn't take long for them to catch up, even though they accelerated to maximum speed. This was proof that the human race was a stupid, underdeveloped species of heathens. Though the 'Pelican' as they called it had an armament of magazine-fed guns that shot metallic projectiles at super-sonic speed, and a few large explosive rounds, they were usually used to drop off human soldiers and wasn't by human standards an ideal air fighter. When Zangumikus and his wing caught up, they fired their Banshees' twin plasma cannons. The plasma more than easily ripped through the human aircraft which was made from arguably weak metal with low melting point. It took no more than a few shots in total until each aircraft was set asunder into smaller pieces as it exploded. After the deed was done, the Commander-in-Chief's who was also a Sangheili like himself spoke to him through the radio in the cockpit. "Zangumikus, you and your wing are to make an air assault over the enemy H.Q. now, where our main forces are attacking."

Following orders, the Sangheili and his wing turned around.

1242 hrs. 29 June 2252 (military calendar) /

Unknown surface coordinates, In Pace Requiesat Star System, planet Odin

Johnson awoke a few minutes later. All he saw were Warthogs reduced to ruin while they were burning into ashes. He got up and tossed his now glassless sunglasses and went over to the Warthog that was leaning on its side and checked to see if Gonzalez and O'Connor were ok, but whatever was left of them was had been wildly set aflame. They were far beyond recognition. And the sergeant checked here and there and as far as he could see, everyone else he saw met the same fate. "Anyone ok?!" he called. He was now thought 'holy shit' from damn. How could he let this happen so easily? When no one answered, he felt his heart sink to a deepness of negative infinity. This was his no doubt his fault. "Sarge!" called out a voice. Surprised and finding some comfort that at least one person was alive, he eyes began scanning everywhere. Finally, he saw where the voice came from. He rushed to a Warthog that had been flipped upside down. Under it were three men he recognized as Hussein, Kalashnikov, and Lee. Using every once of his strength, Johnson pushed the warthog until it finally pushed over. The three troops from under also tried to help. He saw that the three of them and himself had minor injuries-well at least compared it was because the rest of the unit didn't live. "Grab what supplies you can" Johnson ordered them as picked up a pair of new SMG's, replacing his previous assault rifles which were busted. Hussein put his rocket launcher on his back which was lightweight enough, and picked up an assault rifle and slammed a clip into it. Lee looked around and found the latest model of UNSC ground weaponry- the battle rifle. It was a new gun with a small magnification scope that fired bursts of three shots at a time with good accuracy. He also picked up a sniper and put it over his back. Then Kalashnikov, after picking up an SMG of his own, went over to one of the wrecked Warthogs and managed to rip off a chain gun with his great arms. The sergeant watched as he remembered during one of the 'training sessions' he taught his troops. During one of those lessons which he called 'fight club' class, he saw the guy win match after match using some kind of karate and Russian martial arts. He even asked him later about how he did it and Kalashnikov told something about utilizing the mind and body. It was something Johnson still didn't quite understand. "The Covenant got this place glassed, and we're leaving" and he led the three as they walked over the hills. He would've preferred that they take a nearby Warthog, but there wasn't time to check and see if there was still one working.

The sergeant didn't feel quite comfortable walking in the open field. Especially when you were only with a few men and the enemy could be hiding anywhere and shoot you from afar. "Keep your eyes open" he warned. But however, it seemed that for the seven miles they had to travel, they didn't encounter any Covenant. Trying to find out exactly why, Johnson concluded that they were busy trying to assault H.Q. Figures. They had finally reached the barracks. But from what Johnson could see from behind the boulder, it was overrun with Grunts and Jackals, and further byond there were also Banshees flying around, shooting their twin plasma cannons. "Ok, listen up. We're gonna have to sneak our way around here. We're no match against- "Too late sir!" said Kalashnikov's deep voice. The rest of them looked over and saw a squad of Jackals. None of them hesitated to fire at on sight. Desperate, Johnson pressed hard on the SMG's triggers, spraying bullets at them, knowing that one hit from their plasma pistols could kill you. But their combined firepower was enough and even the shields weren't enough to save them. 'Shit' he thought angrily. Now they knew they were there. A fresh, larger squad of Grunts and Jackals were now coming their way to continue where their fallen comrades had left off. "Hussein, shoot a rocket!" he ordered the young soldier. Taking aim and waiting patiently for the scope's lock-on system to target something, Hussein fired two shots, one after the other. Two mushrooms of clouds, dirt, and fire appeared at the enemy's position. Whatever was left of the Covenant troops, Kalashnikov dealt with his chain gun. "Let's go!" Johnson ordered, knowing that speed was now the only thing they could rely on.

But unnoticed, one Grunt fired a weapon that was full of quills on it. It was an odd arm with some sort of homing device and it just happened to land on Lee's arm. The quill exploded on impact. "Arghhhhhh!" he screamed with his eyes as big as they could get. After shooting the damn Grunt, he ran over to check on Lee. Although he was alive, the sight wasn't pretty-on his arm was a hole that had blood coming out like magma out of a volcano, only a lot faster. Thinking quickly, Johnson took out a canister and sprayed foam on the great wound to prevent it from getting any infections. Lee writhed in pain. Then he took out a medpack and wrapped it all over, covering it. The pressure exerted on it would also help stop the bleeding. "You ok leatherneck?" he asked the soldier. Lee attempted a smile and said "Yes sir…" The sergeant cursed at himself for not being able to prevent this. But at least he could still hold his battle rifle and fight, but he couldn't hold the sniper. Well its not like they would need one when fighting inside a base.

The team moved forward and made their way inside the building.

(Ok, please review.)