Disclaimer: Samus Aran belongs to NinTenDo. Master Chief and the other thirty two Spartans belong to Bungie. One Girl in All the World is an OCRemix of the Metroid ending theme by The Wingless.
Spartan 458 couldn't suppress a grin. The super-soldier was currently racing through the city in a borrowed Warthog with several contact mines rattling around in the passenger seat. Clad in Mark V Mjolnir armour, the Spartan couldn't feel the wind, but orders were orders. Sector two was being held by a large number of Covenant troops after the local defence force had been wiped out in the initial rush. The mission? Clear them out and hold the area until reinforcements could arrive.
Well. A platoon of PDF troopers hadn't been able to hold the sector, so this could get exciting. Reports said that there were at least two massive Hunters in the area. That was what the mines were for. The Spartan's favourite shotgun was clipped to the passenger side dashboard, and a machine pistol was strapped to each hip. Two semiautomatics were hidden inside the armour plating, but hopefully they wouldn't be needed.
458 gunned the engine as the road came to an end ahead. With a roar of four-wheel-drive rage, the Warthog leapt from the edge of the ruined bridge. For long moments, it seemed to hang in the air before rubber kissed concrete. The Spartan had miscalculated, however, and the massive form of one of the Hunters was mere meters from the front of the IFV. No time to dodge, 458's mind raced, calculating probabilities and trajectories. Several plans came to mind, but by far the most satisfactory was the one carried out. Spartan 458 gunned the engine again, squeezing two extra clicks from the poor vehicle before releasing the wheel to grab the shotgun. As the Warthog slammed into the Hunter at well over a hundred kilometres per hour it started to flip forwards. 458 crouched in the seat before springing with genetically enhanced might to jump over the Hunter even as the mines detonated, ripping the shotgun free of its clips and somersaulting. The second Hunter came into view, just where 458 had predicted it would be. The Spartan finished the somersault and landed both booted feet heavily on the Hunter's helmet, crouching and bringing the shotgun up to fire it point-blank into the huge alien's unprotected face. The shot ripped through even that creatures' tough hide, all ten lead pellets ripping through the skull and out the other side to collect in the back of its near impenetrable helmet. Before either body had a chance to fall, 458 sprung backwards, flipping again to land feet-first on a Jackal, crushing it.
For a moment, 458 regretted the loss of the Warthog's machinegun as the rest of the Covenant turned, unfriendly. Half the purple cruiser above must have been emptied for this assault. Ah well, nothing for it. The Spartan reached up and plucked several grenades free before setting the fuses and throwing them like shuriken into the shell shocked mass of alien invaders. Fragmentation detonations followed, creating confusion but also galvanising the Covenant troops into action. They immediately started to return fire, plasma bolts filling the air in a killing zone. 458 dodged, ducked and weaved to avoid being barbecued by the burning energy, but even so several struck the Mjolnir's shield. The shotgun was no longer the correct weapon for the job, and was quickly shouldered to be replaced by the twin machine pistols. Without bothering to aim, 458 ran sideways, squeezing the triggers on both weapons. The magazines were empty in seconds, but reloading was just as fast. 458 was glad that Spartan training involved reloading box magazines one-handed. The super-soldier continued to lay down suppressive fire with one pistol even as the other was replenished. 458 didn't know how many Jackals or Elites fell from the cavalcade, but eventually, the reloads ran out first. Time for a change of tactics.
Sheltering behind a ruined wall for a moment, 458's scanners showed that the area was still swarming with hostiles. The firefight and grenades had already halved their number, but the odds were still unfavourable. 458 was glad of the older shield built into the Mark V. The Mark VI may recharge faster, but in a protracted firefight, the heavier shield still had its advantages.
Discarding the machine pistols was an easy choice, and 458 grinned again at the familiar feel of the shotgun. Nothing had quite the same satisfaction as cutting an enemy in half at point-blank range with the 10-guage. Most powerful shotgun in the world, for all the 12-guage was standard military issue. The wall at the Spartan's back was starting to get hot from the plasma fire being poured into it. Time to move.
Rolling out from behind cover, 458 stayed low. The Spartan did the last thing the Covenant expected - ran straight towards them. It cost them precious moments to re-aim, and by that time the Spartan was among them. 458 used armoured fists and boots as much as the shotguns' butt and shells, each strike breaking bone (or chitin in the case of some of the more alien member races), each shot shredding an alien or knocking back an energy shield. 458 was a whirling dervish of death and martial skill. Even as the shotgun was fired one-handed, its wielder grabbed a belt of grenades from a fallen foe and activated them, scattering the deadly packages around generously.
As 458 reloaded the spent box magazine again, everything fell quiet. The Spartan looked around for the Hunter the jackals and elites must have parted for only to realise that the square was deserted. The Covenant forced had been wiped out.
Something clattered nearby, bouncing twice like a tin can tossed to the ground. 458 looked around for the source of the sound. In the exact centre of the square was a large orange and red sphere. It looked similar to the contact mines used to take out the first Hunter, but larger. The sphere was about two and a half feet across. It rattled, then started to glow. A moment later, it unfolded in a flurry of mist and dust to reveal...