Perched at cliffs edge, the Elite surveys his troops as they secure the civilian structures below, carrying out their orders without question. Overhead a Phantom drop ship breaks the silence, the whir of its engines masking the sound of approaching footsteps. This is the perfect time to strike.
The Spartan leaps out of the shadows and sprints hard to close the distance, lighting the Elites energy shields the whole way with short bursts of Assault Rifle fire. Though caught off guard, the Elite is more than ready for a fight. He spins, leveling his weapon, and immediately returns fire.
Blistering bolts of plasma scorch the air as the Elites elongated legs crisscross over one another, toes splaying as they grip the ground for purchase. The Spartan adjusts to the surprisingly speedy strafe, focusing on the opponents menacing gaze to stay in lock step with the agile alien.
The Elites energy shields have begun to swell, but just before they burst the warrior jukes hard. He dives. The Spartan cannot adjust. In the blink of an eye the beast has evaded the Spartans deadly intentions, regained his footing, and earned an infinitesimal but invaluable moment to recover.
The Spartan sweeps his rifle right to relocate the target. Running low on ammo, he burst fires into the Elites torso again and the aliens shields finally crack under the sustained fire. But the Elite does not fall. Hes used his small window of opportunity to his advantage and quickly darts behind a small rock outcropping, out of fire.
The Spartan needs to reload. He lobs a grenade near the footing of the rock, hoping to finish the job, or at the very least, to buy himself a moment to safely reload his weapon.
Rifle ready, he carefully sweeps around the backside of the rock, hoping to find a corpse. Just as he steps around the far side, he hears the Elites shields regenerate, and on the wind, the sounds of approaching enemy reinforcements.
