Under the cover of the forest landscape, a Spartan clad in the famous green powered armor carefully inched along from tree to tree. Frequently his back cradled the trunk of one of the many mighty oaks that swallowed the earthen hills within this zone, as the soldier proceeded with extreme caution. Though he might not offer the absolute best in stealth, what he bore proved quite ample considering the bulky half-foot layer of alloy material, liquid crystal, and active gel that shelled his body. 

Eventually, the fighter reached a break in the treeline, the great plants relenting to the yet tougher earth of a large rocky outcropping jutting from the geometry of the hill. Perhaps a long time ago it, or this whole hill, might've been a part of some greater earthen structure that was simply eroded down by time and elements. Whatever the case, the crop provided an ample observatory foothold to outlook over the rest of the zone beyond the hills. Apparently satisfied with this discovery, and the sights he saw to test the outlook's use, the supersoldier fell back into the shade of the trees to wave over some unseen associate.

Marcus exhaled more deeply this time, as if breathing a sigh of relief. Making any attempt to be sneaky in this bulky Grenadier-issue MJOLNIR armor was next to impossible - another aspect that Jackson was quick to quietly lambaste the SPARTAN-III for at whatever opportunity. It made the operative actually miss the old SPI suits to a certain degree, if only because they were deliberately built for use of survival and sneak tactics. 

Of course, without the greater durability and energy shielding, he would probably already be dead as a result of this colossally failed operation. 

Fireteam Fortune was previously to provide the primary escort for a platoon of UNSC Marines that would help storm one of the Covenant forward outposts and secure it for further relay among the ground teams. The whole thing fell flat right out the gate when two of the Pelicans were shot down and most of the marines were absolutely massacred dropping into the field. Unable to take on the brunt of the entire Covenant troop themselves, Fortune was forced to retreat into the hills, unable to account for Farris-B099 or Cyrus-G109. From that moment on, radio chatter made it quite clear that the Covenant forces stationed on this world had very clearly expected the UNSC. 

Within the hour, both a frigage and the heavy cruiser were both shot down, and the [i]Nimble Spirit[/i] quickly made its leave, abandoning the remaining ground forces to their duty without so much as a single objective completed. Fast-forward two days, and here was Fortune now: two men down and carefully tromping through the silent wilds of the Shield World. The ambient silence was only ever broken by the buzz of Covenent flight-craft zooming overhead, accompanied by a scramble for cover and bated breathing from the squadmembers.

"What'd you find, Brian?" Jackson cut to the chase as he and the others approached where their CQC artist had waved them over. Their adoptive hand gestures allowed the Spartans to move down the line without speaking whatsoever- the team leader insisted this was quite necessary to maintain their overall silence on the planet. 

Of course, not saying a word got very tiring after a while, something Jackson himself so demonstrated. Rolling his eyes beneath his tinted visor, Brian lead the team out to the brink of the trees' cover and pointed out, "Over there. I see it."

It would take a moment of looking from each of them, but sure enough, one by one, each of the present Spartans were able to spot what their teammate had picked up. In the area where they were able to look out past the hills present in their current zone, the valley beyond and below was only dotted with a few scores of trees here and there, exposing most of the spring-green land. But upon that expanse lay a key monument: a black and grey obelisk, toppled and lopsided in ruin. The awkward angle of its perish was emphasized by the scratchy streak in the earth that drifted out about half of the object's length away, long-wise.

As Fortune's members probed at the sight, another droll reverberation echoed overhead. On pure instinct at this point, the Spartans retreated into the trees, falling hard and still to avoid detecting as best as they could. For an agonizing minute they held their position, the dreadful hum of the alien machine over their heads reaching a crescendo. As quickly as it did, however, in then faded, now accompanied with the image of the Covenant ship floating by through the air. Jackson decided it was safe enough to exit upon auditory confirmation that there were no additional craft in company. 

A humanoid mirage shimmered in the air before Brian's armor came back into focus, carefully peeking out in the act of double- and triple-checking their observations. Again, one by one, the supersoldier returned their gaze to the fallen craft- and, now applying their built-in zoom, the Covenant presence that could be seen approaching. They really didn't want to be detected now, of all times.

"[i]The Burning Hope[/i]," James breathed, taking in the full intensity of the sight.