Okay, Here's Chapter 4, S-Construct's POV.

Okay, let's see: I'm stuck in a Covenant building, unarmed, surrounded and held down by a pair angry looking Elites. Great. Another Elite walks in, wearing Commander-class armor. He's holding a Plasma repeater in one hand. He looks at me, and growls. Not surprised. He walks toward me, and starts talking. Good thing I activated my Shangheli Translator.

"What are you doing here? You have come were you should not, Demon!" Yep, He's mad. "Who are you, and why did you come?"

Let's hope they have their human translator on. "My name is Mr. Demon Kickyabutt, and I came here to throw a tea party. Now, this isn't how you treat guests, now, is it?"

The Elite growled again. "Your humor will not get you anywhere, Demon. I know it was your filthy kind that destroyed one of our cruisers an hour ago. "Tell us where they went, and perhaps we'll spare your pitiful carcass."

Pitiful?! This is custom top-of-the-line Rogue Spartan-IV Armor, and I'm rather proud of my modifications. Not to mention worn by one of the greatest single-spartan operatives, with years of experience as a Marine. "Mr. Kickyabutt does not betray his friends, and besides, we both know that given the chance, you'd skewer me in 2 seconds.

The Elite brandishes his plasma repeater, and gets in my face. "Do you see this weapon? I have killed many Spartans with it, even on Reach. I would take more than a little pleasure at melting your helmet off.

I study the weapon. Yep, it's a beauty, colored gold, and painted with sky-blue markings. Wait, are those… yep, there are Spartan Dog-tags adorning the weapon's stock!

"You see this tag here?" He points, "I took this from a human who fought off some of my strongest officers. He especially deserved the death he got."

"SPARTAN-B312," I read. Wait, wasn't that the number of Noble Six? Wow, this guy killed THE Noble Six? Congrats, Split-mouth, you are now on my kill priority list. "So, since you seem to be so keen on getting chummy with me, how about you tell me your name?"

"I will not. You do not deserve that honor, pestilence," he responds. "Now, again, tell us where the rest of you are hiding, and perhaps you will not die as painfully.

"You're kidding right? Why the heck would I do that if I'm going to die anyway?"

"Well then, perhaps we should show you what your failure to comply will bring. Bring him out to the Spirit, we'll take him to the outpost." The angry Commander walks out of the room.

The Elites roughly pull me up, and start to drag me outside. That was a big mistake. I use the leverage of not being held down to tear free of the Elites. Within 10 seconds, I'm holding a Carbine,with a storm rifle on my back, and equipped with plasma grenades while the Elites are boarding the bus bound for 'Great Journey.'

Okay, it's going to be seconds before the Covies come in and see the mess. Now would be a good time for an exit. I form up on the side of the wall. An elite comes in, followed by a few grunts. As soon as they see the bodies of their brothers, I'm out the door. Right into a squad of jackals and grunts. Not to mention the angry Commander. "Right, then. Who wants a bullet in the brain?"

Thanks for reading this far! I plan to add more chapters soon. Review would be appreciated!