Chapter Four: Open to Suggestions

0830 Hours October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)

Aboard Forerunner Ship, Sol System

John tensed to pull the trigger. He knew death would be instant, and would be fruitless. So he held his fire to see where this would go. But he was ever wary, still searching for a way to win.

Winning isn't everything, the voice of Captain Keyes echoed in his head. That had seemed like a lifetime ago, when he first heard that. He remembered his revelation of its meaning however long ago. Peace was the only other acceptable option. But it was still with reluctance that he lowered his M41.

But he was not utterly careless. He slowly took unclipped a grenade from his belt and hid it behind his back.

"Why?" he asked.

"Our fight is with the Jiralhinae, Demon, not you." replied the same Councilor Elite. "We despise you still for your destruction of our Sacred Ring, but we still recognize the strength of numbers, and the wisdom of working against a common enemy."

He continued, ignoring the snorts among his compatriots, who still had their weapons trained on his helmet. "Therefore, we are willing to set aside past differences, if you would be so kind as to work with us." his voice took on a slightly more casual tone. "The choice is yours. Lower your weapons." he added in a barking tone to the others. Slowly, all but one let their gun sights fall.

A Zealot approached from behind the Councilor. "This is most unwise, Holy Councilor. We should destroy him now, while we have the chance!"

"Still your voice Field Master Mananee! I am in command here, and I make the decisions." he growled. The junior officer looked as if he heavily disagreed with the Councilor, but had the intelligence to stand down, especially when he saw the officer Elite's hand stray to the now dormant sword handle. "Yes, Excellency." he muttered reluctantly.

The Master Chief's mind was racing. He had his doubts, but was slightly relieved when he saw this display. Of course, this didn't mean he was out of the hole yet. No matter what this Elite said, if he established himself as an enemy, he would be terminated instantly. So that did leave only one choice, one which he was more than happy to make, for it would mean less adversaries for him to battle. And could be the breaking ground for a peace treaty between the Humans and the Covenant. Or at least a half of it, from the looks of things. And wouldn't that be fulfilling his old mission besides? Peace with the Covenant…he couldn't imagine it after decades of war with them. But now, he knew what he must do, regardless of what he felt. The Marines were not going to like this, that was for sure.

"I'll accept your offer." he finally said gruffly. The Elite relaxed a little; he realized it was tensed in anticipation. "I'll need to convey this with my own soldiers first." Thank God for the translation software, he thought.

The Councilor bowed his head briefly. "Excellent. But please be quick, Demon, we don't have much time."

John nodded and quickly jogged over to the Marines. How will I explain this to them? "ODSTs, there has been contact made," he sighed. "with the Elites." he ignored the curses he heard. "Friendly contact. This may be our chance to take the fight to the Covenant. These next orders I will give you are to be obeyed without question. If you have any questions, ask them now."

A Corporal glared at him. "Ok, here's one. Why are we going to trust those bastards that are trying to exterminate the entire human race!"

"Because unless we do, I believe we are well and truly screwed, Corporal. We stand a better chance of saving billions of human lives if we put aside our hatred for the Covenant now, than if we take them head-on. Understood?"

The Marine paled, and weakly muttered, "Yeah, sir."

"Good. Now, under no circumstances are you to insult, or attempt to attack our new allies. The only exception to this is if they deliberately attempt to kill you. Got it?"

"Sir, yes sir!" yelled the other Marines.

"Come on then, we've got no time to lose!" he barked, and they were on the move again. They met with the Councilor and his team again, and there was some harsh glares exchanged.

The Chief marveled at this rare moment in history. Marines…working side by side with the Elites. It seemed too good to be true. The eight foot tall warriors turned, and giving only a nod of acknowledgment, ran down the hall, into the thick of it.

A brute jumped out from the side of the door. One Elite roared and threw a plasma grenade at the beast. The ignited grenade stuck to the Brute's thick fur and, as the alien gave a final scream, detonated. The explosion alerted the nearby Brute Honor Guards, who were armed with the trademark weapon of their species, the Brute Shot. Nobody ever said this was going to be easy.

"Marines, blow them to hell!" yelled the Chief as he shot his own rocket launcher. "Hell yeah sir!" they roared as one, firing similarly. The Elites stopped and watched in amazement as the Brute's pack of ten was obliterated almost instantly.

"A fine move Demon!" shouted the Councilor with jubilation.

"You can call me Spartan." he growled. "For honor then, Spartan!" the Zealot yelled as the Elites laughed. The Grunts collapsed with giggles. Even the Hunter emitted some low growls, which the Master Chief took to be chuckles. Even the Marines couldn't resist cracking a smile, and the Chief almost. He would have, if not for all that he had been through.

"Councilor? May I have a word with you?" he asked. The Elite nodded, and strode over to him. "What is it, Spartan?"

"We need to get more organized. If we hang loosely, then the Brutes will pick us off one by one." "Yes. What do you suggest?"

The Chief thought for a second, then replied, "The Marines with the rocket launchers," he pointed, "and your Hunter take point. I'll hang behind them, until my own launcher's expended. Your snipers work with mine, and fire over their heads. Cover them while they need to reload. They will take the right side of the formation. I want you to take the left and back sides and command them. We can't be too near; a lucky shot could take us both out. That will be the Marines and Elites that have short range weapons. They will move up on my word. Do you have any problems with this?"

"'Tis a fine plan Spartan. I have no problem wi-" The ship shuddered, and they both fell to the deck. "What in the name of our lords?" cursed the Councilor.

"The ship must be landing. We must go now, before it does and Truth escapes."

"What are we waiting for then? Let us go kill them all!" The two commanders went back and put the troops in their positions. "Go go go!"