0330 Hours

July 2, 2345

Underground Shipping Docs

Planet Reach

"Do you have the contract, Mr. Faulkner?" Master Rudolfo, a bearded man clad in typical assassin garb that included a lightweight Titanium/Carbon alloy body armor, gravity dampening boots, and a hooded shawl made of passive camo mesh, inquired. He wore a silver beard and a patch over his left eye, a reminder of the military takeover of our home planet Circinius V for a damned UNSC Officer academy.

"Yes, Master, I have it." Faulkner bowed to show his respect. "I'll have collected the package and left the planet by tomorrow morning." He turned around and entered the confined belly of the Calypso-class exfiltration vessel.

Faulkner notifies the pilot of his readiness for takeoff and settles into his seat, simultaneously examining his equipment. As he bends his wrist, a plasma blade swiftly extends and retracts at a rapid pace, vanishing as soon as he returns his hand to its regular position.

He silently acknowledges the usefulness of the blade. He flips his other arm, he inspects the chamber of his dual-shot, wrist-mounted 24-gauge shotgun and grapple hook.

"Buckle in, we're taking off in 2," commanded the voice of the pilot over the loudspeaker. Faulkner quickly clipped his cross-strap seat belt and clasped his issued MA37 Assault Rifle to the slip space safety rack. The Brotherhood provides its members with weapons that primarily consist of antiquated and worn-out firearms, many of which suffer from rust and neglect. These weapons are obtained through unauthorized means, specifically by seizing them from UNSC freighters, which are responsible for transporting decommissioned armaments. Within seconds, I felt the pull of the jet engines engage and the ship take off.

Master Rudolf's voice came over the earpiece radio, "We will be hovering around your vector to provide support if needed. Remember, stay low, stay quiet, and avoid conflict if possible. We can't let the Templars know we stole the artifact."

"Yes, Master, I will not fail you."

The flight was silent and still, nothing but the clanking of loose straps and rattling of chairs. Faulkner closes his eyes and goes into an almost meditative state, preparing himself and visualizing the mission and every variable that could happen.

"All right, we have arrived," the voice crackled over the intercom, snapping the assassin out of his trance. "This is as far as I can take you, good luck kid."

Cool air filled the back of the ship as the deep blue night sky was revealed by the opening of the bay door. The lithe teenager slipped silently into the sprawling open fields, passive camo activating to blend him in to the environment.

In the distance, the bright lights emanating from the cluster of training facilities, that produce candidates for the legendary spartan program, can be seen from miles away. Luckily the target is on the dark side of the plains, but that's on the other side of the training facilities which are heavily guarded with troops and automated defense systems. That left him with only two options, stay close to the populated and dangerous buildings, or take the longer route through the wild lands that are filled with dangerous and unpredictable creatures that are always looking for fresh meat. Ultimately, he decided to take the wild lands for the simple fact of silhouetting and fewer chances to get caught. This was, after all, an in and out job, so no need to take extra risks.

Faulkner plotted his waypoint to the special weapons testing facility. The HUD projected out from the chest rig and showed the quickest route to the target. He then edited that to match the safe route that he wanted to take and continued to trek forward, moving as quickly and quietly as he could. At around 1543m away from the target, the true wild lands started. A large wall of grass and weeds that are 7 feet tall, perfect for predators stalking their prey. Setting his motion tracker, he pushed into the sea of reeds and continued on his course towards his map marker. Staying low and moving fast, he rushed through the grass, stopping every couple hundred feet to listen for any movement of wildlife or drones. All was quiet.

"I thought I would find you here." A gruff twang of a voice pierced the silence. The assassin looked around swiftly, searching for the source of the voice.

"You really didn't think we would sniff you out the moment you came out of hiding? We have eyes everywhere!" Out of nowhere, three blurry gray figures darted through the tall stalks, emitting aggressive chirps and powerful jaws nipped at his feet. The beasts stood about 4ft in height with splayed out gray scales that shuttered with every chuff. It stalked on four legs that touted long black claws that could slice through concrete, and the gaping maw(s) of these creatures were thin, long, filled with multiple rows of razor sharp teeth. Even worse, a second jaw hung underneath the main bite. These animals are known as Man Stalkers.

"Sorry boy, looks like you won't be leaving here with the apple. Don't worry though, ill make sure to send your remains back home, if there is any!" The beast handler let out a hardy laugh and motioned with his hand to let the monsters attack. The large lizards slowed down and stood tall on their hind legs, preparing to strike.

Upon detecting the Man Stalkers weight shift, Faulkner pivoted and swung at it, firmly securing his concealed weapon within its chest cavity. Using the momentum, he rolled into a thicker patch of grass and hurried towards the location where he had heard the handlers voice. The thudding footsteps and hissing that followed his movements proved that these hounds were not going to be forgotten easily. One of the Stalkers crashed through the brush and bared its twin set fangs at me, then lunged with the speed of a bullet. The assassin barely rolled out of the way, being grazed by the knife-like claws. The Stalker came back for another attack, but Faulkner was ready this time. He launched himself towards the beast, this time aiming for the head. He straightens his arm out, using his inertia to close both jaws and with his other arm he extends his hidden blade and pierces the temple of the large reptile, killing it instantly. Soaked in thick, green blood, he goes to continue moving towards his target, when he feels an acute pressure and hears a loud crunch.

Clamped onto Faulkner's leg was the first Stalker that he stabbed. He tried to kick it off, but the lower jaw seized that leg as well. With no other option, he reaches for his rifle on his back, but bellows in pain as two massive clawed dinosaur claws steps on both arms. A flurry of spit and putrid breath overwhelmed his screams as the jaws of the very hungry and very pissed off Stalker lowered his jaws towards his face. Faulkner would have been a pile of torn meat if it hadn't been for an ear-piercing whine generated by the luminescent silver collar that sparkled with faint blue LEDs.

"I thought you assassins were supposed to be a challenge," the killer cowboy chuckled, standing over the prone Faulkner. "Well, you're too late son! We just delivered that beautiful golden piece of Eden to the big wigs." He takes his long barrel handgun from its leather holster and points it towards Faulkner's head.

"I know you sneaky fellas prefer to die in honorable combat and such, but I'm on a tight schedule today, so we'll have to skip the formalities."

As the hammer of the revolver is primed to fire, Faulkner shuts his eyes and bows his head for one more moment of meditation.

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