"New contact sir! Not one of ours!"
"Take it out!"
"This is Spartan 1-1-7, can anyone hear me?"
"Master Chief? 'Mind telling me what you're doing on that ship?"
"Sir! Finishing this fight!"
"What exactly do you have planned? Don't answer that, as long as it can save this planet, do it, just tell me what you need."
"A Longsword... and a helluva good pilot! Sir."
"Understood"
"I want a Longsword dodging anything that comes at it at these coordinates... except for me."
"I'm not receiving anything..." The Admiral stated. He was confused, the Master Chief never acted like this... wait... where the hell was Cortana?!
"Sorry, just send him outside the bow of this ship... send an AI." Master Chief finished, he sighed and shut off the com-link. He was so used to Cortana doing everything for him. Nav. points, grids, schematics, and directions. He heaved another heavy sigh and sank against the wall behind him. He started to finger the scars of his armor, remembering the past Battles on Delta Halo. Pulling those memories back into his thoughts, he remembered all the lives lost on those battles.
He punched the panel next to him. Why? Why was he chosen to fight all these aliens? No other Spartans? Why did they send all these men to their dooms? Just to give him a close shave or a choice between him and another, just one faulty second for him to finish them off. "One distraction can change the course of a battle." He said aloud, not caring if other Covenant heard him. He just wanted to get off this ship. His time came earlier than he wished.
A scrawny figured huddled close to the control panel. He stared curiously at all of the buttons, dials and holograms. They did need the Elites for driving these hulking freighters. A large hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him high above the powerful figure. Its hairy body and toothy, menacing grin greeted the gawking jackal.
"You hear anything, Kig-Yar?" The brute sneered. Sure, they were on his side, but they had no elites to fight with. Others of his kind were getting chances near High Charity, but he had to stay here and made sure the lesser folk of the Covenant didn't do anything stupid. The jackal squawked a reply, which the Brute was unsure of, and dropped him to the ground. He liked to have "fun". "Any sound you hear, you chuck blue-ball, then charge, then fire. Wait for others. No first moves!" The brute kept on growling, he heard a thump a little while ago, and he wanted to know what it was. He thought he smelled something new when they took off.
The jackal rubbed his neck with his bony hands when the brute left. He hated the Jiralhanae, more than the Sangheili. But the elites never wanted them. Always the Lekgolo. Never the Kig-Yar. He heard a sentence uttered from below him, he looked down the whole. The Demon! What was he doing on this ship? He must be killed... or set loose upon the Jiralhanae. The jackal sniggered. He started to charge his plasma pistol, aiming it right down the whole, at the unsuspecting Spartan. But something caught him in the knick of time.
The Brute smashed into the jackal, breaking many bones in his arm. The jackal soared through the hallway, and landed with a skid. He shot back up, and started squawking at the jackal, pistol charging. The Brute had enough of this. He threw a light blue orb at the jackal. The bird-like creature immediately brought his shield up, and threw his plasma pistol at the Brute.
The two objects soared right past each other. The pistol skidded and dropped right into the hole. The grenade bounced off the jackal's shield and flew into the hole as well.
Master Chief looked up to see a green light. Oh no! The Chief thought as he realized that the covenant saw him. He quickly got out of the way of something he new very well. An overcharged plasma pistol shot would decimate his shields and leave him very, very vulnerable. He cautiously moved away from the hole. He started to hear a loud thump and fighting. Then he saw the plasma pistol drop from the ceiling onto the ground.
He quickly ran to catch the Pistol, and he did, just as a Plasma grenade flew right onto the plasma firing mechanism of the pistol. He then thought of a brilliant ploy, a way to win a fight on this ship full of enemies. He charged the Plasma pistol and rapidly aimed it at the hole and let loose the trigger before he knew he would regret it. The plasma beam swelled through the air, propelling the near-exploding plasma grenade. Just as the Master Chief had hoped, the grenade exploded in the corridor above and he was able to feel safe once again.