Thursday, March 17, 2005

Master Chief slid cautiously into the structure, aware of the hostile red dots that flashed urgently on his motion tracker. Pulling out his preferred weapon of choice, the M6D Pistol, the Spartan was not something to be trifled with. peering around the corner with a fibre optic cable, he saw 12 Brutes loitering around the corner. Brutes; he had never seen them before. Now he knew what they looked like; gorillas armed and armored to the teeth. He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. And then he saw his target...

The Prophet of Truth hovered among them on his anti-gravity throne, conversing in the alien tongue of Jiralhanae. They were oblivious to the fact that their impending doom was waiting just around the corner. As Master Chief continued watching, the group slowly moved off. Now was his chance. Activating a Rafflesia anti-tank grenade , he angled his arm for more leverage, and hurled it at the close-packed group of enemies. They never knew what hit them.

m_ho returning to base at 8:46 am

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