CHAPTER 26:
Pipat waddled along side the other bipedal snorting Unggoy as they followed the whim of their Sanghelili officer, who stood imposing over their meter long bodies in tall yet sleek cobalt harness, he slumped his steady legs in a silent march towards the outer entrance to the perimeter, missing the magneta coloured field that covered the entrance, and the Kig-Yar marksmen, and a few of his nipple mates who were assigned to compliment the bird-like reptilians, missing from their usual posts.
A red armoured Sanghelili had since made aside and said something in it's native tongue to his blue armoured counterpart. Which the lance leader echoed to Pipat and the other grunts, waddling along in their orange methane harnesses.
The Unggoy, or just "grunts" to the other races that made up the Covenant, were the cannon fodder of any battlefield, their elite masters usually threw them at the enemy in tidal waves to collapse at the enemy defences, or in cases such as vital as this, they were merely a pair of eyes, ears and a good nose too, he sniffled and smelt the scent of blood, blood of his own kind dumped near the edge of the marsh. It was Naplap.
With the bright neon cyanic blood leaking from his neck and the faint smell of the methane gas from Naplap's breathing apparatus that had been punctured from some sort of primitive weapon, a bladed weapon, which Pipat had figured from the large stab wound in his nipple-mates jugular, it had been a quicker death than some.
their species would react in anger, sorrow and horror at the sight of their own kind disposed in such a fashion, but to Pipat's kind, it was one less nipple-mate, and a servant to the great journey that had been taken and sent to the night paradise above, and more nipple from what was his own share of it. He was just another grunt, he felt a sense of hurt and sorrow for Naplap, but rejoiced but he was with all the others since known gone, from accidents to various predators that occupied the world as the grunts stumbled and laboured across the territory.
The Unggoy had a very fast reproduction speed which made them the perfect cannon fodder they produced quickly and were a constant populated army. Literal hordes of his own kind.
he scoured and withdrew his own plasma pistol and looked for anything that may have done this, another grunt called out to him with a bark, another body, this one a kig-yar
The kig-yar or just "Jackal", as the grunts were adapted infantry, they were expert marksmen, scouts and assassins. Not as tall as an elite but extremely agile and aggressive. It's beady eyes stood upwards in it's beaked skull staring ominously into the melting moons and stars over the place Pipat had known nothing other than. He was sang to by the Unggoy Elder about the belief of the souls of their fallen becoming at peace in the beautiful intertwine at the stars, he marvelled if the Jackal had found the same beauty of it if it had been the last thing he truly saw. The Unggoy had never been at terms with the kig-yar, for their poor partnership in ways of life.
The Elite beckoned the grunts to return and his red armored brother turned away from where he had stood, the entire unggoy force inspected the bodies of the lost to the great journey.
Pipat distanced himself and sought to investigate the rather odd state the powering plasma units had been left in, he waddled over to them and began to inspect them, but an odd leathery device had been slung underneath, it gave a low beeping sound, what came next was a deafening sound and a light that flung him across the camp, it took him a few seconds to realise he couldn't get up, and that his spine had been snapped by a large piece of shrapnel lodged in his narrow belly, he was covered in a wet, sticky puddle of his own bright blue blood.
It didn't hurt, not even a bit, but he noticed the other grunts around him, some yelping, some gone, some in pieces either gone or yelping in pain. But he didn't hear them.
Suddenly the lights of the stars burned ever brighter, which wrapped him up and enwarmed him as he swam in the coldness of the black night, ever asleep.
INNER PERIMETER
Margaret 053 felt the smashing rumble of the C-12's cratering detonation, anyone who triggered SPARTAN 31s surprise was certainly either vaporised, or thrown a hundred meters away in pieces.
"Ka-boom" Otto whispered.
Though she couldn't feel it with the adjusting temperature fit offered by her MJOLNIR crystal gel layer, the sensors indicated it was considerably more warmer and humid than before, they must be directly below the Covenant mining operation, this tunnel network looked the prime habitat for the insectoid species commonly employed by the Covenant ONI had referred to as "drones", the rest of the UNSC just called them "buggers".
"How much you're willing to bet they're aren't a thousand of those buggers, maybe a million?" Otto said, he took his "bets" in a serious manner, though, as a Spartan, he usually had nothing to bet rather than some above average tasting MRE or bragging rights.
"After were done, I wouldn't bet a lot, Three" Margaret said back.
At least her motion sensor was responsive, she scanned the sensor's circular 25m radius as she expected a clustered horde of red spots on the sensor to rush and consume her and the rest of the Spartans. Every step brought a worrying relief.
Victor formed his hand to the left of the narrow tunnel. The others followed suit, weapons ready. looking over the edge and out onto a smaller clearing
"finally! too cramped up there slugging it"
"Your bumping and grazing certainly didn't help three" Two sighed
"Keep giving me that attitude I'll throw you at 'em for a good ol friendly bear hug" Otto snarked
"Sounds delightful" Victor said, "You're always good at making us new friends, Two",
"Tell me about it" Roma scoffed.