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[@OrizaSaucer][@Delta44][@Remipa Awesome][@Amaranth][@Starlance][@Joker892][@HumanMusic]
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[color=Gray]	In unison to everyone else, it seemed, Lucas raised his rifle a second time when a third body emerged from the treeline. This time it was far from what he'd gotten so far. A younger male in Marine BDU slandered through, without stating his classification, name, nor alerting him of anything prior to his arrival. A private's insignia sat upon his chest and shoulders. It was an act that seemed to send fumes in the ODST's head. Before he could say anything in response, the frantic medic found her place to speak. This too also began to slowly tick off Lucas, but at first, he allowed it to slide onwards until she was finished. A good fifteen minutes had passed since Lucas had shot the Sanghelli hostile, and since then he had sent imagery and scan reports quickly to an already in-contact intelligence unit that had called in not long after the Corpsman had arrived. He had the results just as soon as he was asked, by the other ODST soldier, but he waited for the time being.

	From there, he rose to his feet, lifting his own weight and running a fingerless gloved-hand through his hair. Lucas looked directly at the Private, eyes narrow and quite stern. His look was never considered the strongest nor most fear-inducing glare of all, but it certainly did the job when it needed to. Now was one of those times.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"We may have been left a-strand, Private. But if you don't want to end up with one of our bullets lodged between your eyes, I suggest you follow the corpsman's advice...As for you..."[/b][/color] [color=Gray]He shifted his gaze towards the frantic hospital corpsman that had already stated what Lucas had to say.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"I don't need someone to speak for me. And as far as I am concerned, the only thing you said when walking in was about whether I had any injuries, so don't contradict yourself."[/b][/color]

[color=gray]	With that being said, he picked his DMR off of the ground, lying where he had been previously, and wandered over towards his pod. From there, he began to grab whatever he could from the inside as the rest stared at him in silence. He was about to answer the Rylei's question, he just needed to make sure his information had been processed correctly before he could confirm any grim news he had to offer. And indeed, it was grim. But at least, he needed to let them know of what they were up against in these specific dark times, especially out alone in the forest like they were now. After retrieving extra gear such as magazines, electrical equipment to suit his technical needs and other disabling ordinances on his disposal, he returned to the three who were only a few metres from his pod.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"To answer your question, Private Xandre...This is not the type of Sanghelli we want to run in to ever again. I sent imagery and technical feedback from my helmet camera to Agile Team, a group of Spartan IIIs that I managed to get into contact with when waiting for the Corpsman to arrive. I needed to know if they still had their AI around, which they did. Managed to send them my readings and, well...I heard something I wish I didn't."[/b][/color] [color=Gray]He took a knee for a second time, this time using his finger to show the trailings and markings on the Sanghelli's [url=http://halofanforlife.com/wp-content/uploads/haloreach_character_covenant_elite_elite_spec_ops_by_isaac_hannaford.jpg]armour[/url]. It curved and shone still, despite the holder of the armour being far from alive.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"This is what we have started to call an Elite Militant. See these markings? And the oddly shaped helmet? This armour signifies that this elite has been selected for a special task. Digging into this information, the AI found out that Militants are hand-picked by Fleet Master Grazo 'Lovamee to assign as...well like their own personal guards and special operations units. They apparently go for reconnaissance behind enemy lines, stalking, ambushing, are known to master Guerrilla warfare and are sent to clean out those unfortunate enough to be left alone. I guess I'm just lucky enough to still be alive. If you look at their wrists, you see slots for what looked like behind-the-hand energy 'daggers' as oppose to a sword. Quicker and easier to use, I presume."[/b][/color]

	[color=Gray]Finally, Lucas put his helmet back on, but kept his visor in a clean view to ensure they could all still see his face. It was important for him as an ODST and superior to ensure they knew what he looked like, especially when information as bad as this was being told. It was a known fact that the UNSC personnel found it easier to talk to soldiers when they could see their expressions. That's what made it so hard to talk to Spartans all this time. Eventually he looked away from the triage to reopen his comms again.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"This is Chariot 9-4-2, once more. I am making the complete order for Outpost Sierra to be moved upon. Those holding out at Charlie, I want you to also move. From what I've heard over radio chatter, it'll take too long and risk more lives to have a team sent to your location. I strongly order you to all pull back to OP Sierra. I have a small group of survivors myself, and I'll meet you all there. Watch your surroundings. Spread the word. If we lose Sierra, we can move to Yankee, but before that can happen we'll all need to make our RZ point the same spot. For confirmation, move to Sierra. I will meet you all there personally. Chariot 9-4-2, out."[/b][/color]

[color=Gray]	He looked at the trio in his vicinity and smiled through his visor, blinking at them several times, before pointing towards the Private that had arrived last. Lucas' comforting grin showed signs of hope and critical planning in his head.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Someone give this guy a working weapon or ammo...or something...In the mean time, you heard what I said. We've got the Battle of Oman to win."[/b][/color]