Revise paste Halo Cole Protocol 10

The barking chatter of human gunfire ripped through the cockpit, and Jora's armor flared. “Blood," the zealot swore, as he ducked for cover.

"So they finally attack." Jora's mandibles split open as he roared a challenge down the corridor.

Jora barreled through, sword high, and cut the third marine in half, but not before the man got off several shots, near point blank. Jora stumbled, and clutched at his armor.

Jora held his side, and Thel noticed a trickle of purple blood seep through his fingers.

"What is it?" Jora looked a bit awed by the thought a Hierarch had noticed them. "I do not know, but whatever it is, I am sure it will bring us honor," Thel said. He looked at Jora's purpled hand. The zealot would need medical attention soon, probably from one of the Huragok. That Covenant species was obsessed with fixing anything. Yet even letting a Huragok work on you was a grave dishonor. It was
the same as letting a doctor put his filthy claws on you. Thel sighed. Blood was your essence, your nobility. To spill it meant to lose honor.-Chpt.18