Halo Flood 7

The Grunt paused and, accompanied by one of his
fellows a Grunt named Gagaw-he waded into the
gory mess, only to discover that the noise was associated with a black-armored member of the Elite, one of the "Prophet-blessed" types who were in charge of this ill-considered raid. By law and custom, Yayap's race was required to revere the Elites as near-divine envoys of the Prophets. Of course, the implementation of law and custom was somewhat flexible on the battlefield.

"Leave him," Gagaw advised. "That's what he would do if it were one of us lying wounded."

"True." Yavan said thoughtfully, “but it would take
all five of us to carry him back to the assault boat." It took Gagaw ten full heartbeats to assimilate the idea and finally appreciate the genius of it. "We wouldn't have to fight!"
"Precisely," Yayap said, as the sounds of battle grew louder once more, "so let's slap some dressings on his wounds, grab his arms and legs, and drag his ass out of here."

A quick check revealed that the Elite's wounds weren't mortal. A human projectile had bored its way into the warrior's face, sliced along the side of his head, and flattened itself on the inside surface of the Elite's helmet. The force of the blow had knocked him unconscious. Aside from that, and some cuts and bruises sustained when he fell, the Elite would survive. A pity, Yayap
thought.-Chpt.1 pgs.35-36