| rdfs:comment | - Finally, Angela Forrester, the designated marksman of Fireteam Valiant, looked up from the scope of her suppressed DMR, and Sikowsky's heart nearly skipped a beat in excitement. "What did you see?," he snapped, though he hadn't meant to. Angela didn't give any notice of his rude tone, however. She, like the rest of Valiant, had grown used to Sikowsky's quirks. "Looks like we're dealing with Covies and Prometheans. Again. A lot of them too." "Be more specific." "They've got plenty of Crawlers, hingeheads, turkeys, gas suckers, and I saw at least a dozen Knights alone." They nodded in unison.
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| abstract | - Finally, Angela Forrester, the designated marksman of Fireteam Valiant, looked up from the scope of her suppressed DMR, and Sikowsky's heart nearly skipped a beat in excitement. "What did you see?," he snapped, though he hadn't meant to. Angela didn't give any notice of his rude tone, however. She, like the rest of Valiant, had grown used to Sikowsky's quirks. "Looks like we're dealing with Covies and Prometheans. Again. A lot of them too." "Be more specific." "They've got plenty of Crawlers, hingeheads, turkeys, gas suckers, and I saw at least a dozen Knights alone." "Fucking awesome," chimed in a sarcastic Corin Davis, Valiant's automatic rifleman. "I remember back during the war when sometimes all I had to fight were shitloads of Grunts. Why is it never like that anymore?" Brian Donaldson, one of the team's riflemen, chuckled. "Maybe it's 'cuz you're a Spartan now," he told Corin, who didn't appear to listen, arms crossed and not showing Brian any sign of acknowledgment. "Besides, we've handled worse," added the team's other rifleman, Christopher Dorton, with his peculiar tinge of a German accent. "Shut up, you three," Leon ordered. "Angie, I want you to stay here and provide covering fire while the rest of us head down there for a closer look." He turned to the rest of the team. "No one else fires unless I give the word, understood?" They nodded in unison. Leon gestured to his team, and the four Spartans descended down the steep rock face, stepping carefully to avoid making too much noise. As they descended down the rocky slope the incline became gradually more shallow, until it terminated in the smooth chrome floor of an artificial canyon, which was perforated at relatively regular intervals by the cyan glow of a variety of small lights built into the metal surfaces. Thankfully, these fixtures did not provide much in the way of illuminating the environment, so the Spartans were able to stick to the shadows and better conceal themselves from enemy detection. Soon they reached a narrow chokepoint, about 250 meters from their original position, taking cover there. Leon motioned for his teammates to stay put, then shouldered his rifle and peered around the corner. His eyes met those of a Jackal sentry, which squawked at Leon in surprise. Leon snapped back behind cover and signaled for his team to open up a private comm channel. "They saw me," Leon told them. "How?," Corin asked. "What the fuck did you do?" "Bad luck, I guess. A Jackal was looking right at me when I poked my head around." "Fuck." "Keep holding fire. Angie, prepare to take him and any buddies he brings along down." "Roger," she acknowledged. Leon listened as footsteps approached him and his team. A lone alien rounded the corner to see them, opening its mouth wide to alert its allies. However, the only sound that was made was the wet crunch of a bullet smashing into the alien's cranium, then a muffled splat as its brains blew out from the opposite side of its head, spattering the floor with skull fragments, brain matter and dark purple blood. "Why weren't there mo—" "Look out!," yelled Dorton, cutting Sikowsky off. Leon looked up to see a Watcher above their heads as it began to teleport Crawlers to Valiant's position. "Open fire!" The Spartans retreated, firing at their Promethean pursuers as they ran. However, Valiant's escape was cut short as a Knight materialized in their path. Leon leapt onto the metal beast, making it double back. He grabbed the blade attached to its left arm and tore it from the grasp of the energy field which held it in place. He flipped it around and held it like a sword, then jumped off of the Knight, slicing off its right arm near the shoulder as he did so. Leon charged once again at the now helpless Forerunner construct, ramming the blade into its face. The behemoth toppled as he released the blade from his grip, and began to disintegrate into hundreds of tiny luminous flakes. The Crawlers, apparently intimidated by Leon's impressive show of force, spun around and began to retreat to the safety provided by their stronger allies. "Well, that went well," Sikowsky noted sarcastically. "Let's head back up to Angie's position and regroup. We need a new plan."
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