Zhar turned a corner and flinched as human gunfire slapped into his armor. The old Sangheili fired downward, and the shots stopped. The now dead human, its back against the wall, had been already wounded. A large shot to its thigh had bled the creature's strange red blood out onto the floor. Zhar had shot it once: clean through the head.
"It was sitting down," Zhar said. "Startled me. I barely got a return shot in."
"You are lucky it didn't have a more powerful weapon.” Thel kicked away the handgun lying by its side.
