Travis awoke to the sound of banging on the hull of the ship. He stood up, dazed and confused. His armor was cracked and broken. The shield generator was damaged and wouldn't even turn on. His Warmaster helmet was cracked. The skull etched into the glass was cracked beyond repair. His Tracker chest piece had a large dent in it and his Stalker shoulder pieces were hanging loosely off his shoulders. He looked around to see the crash had thrown him into the cockpit of the drop ship where his teammate, Tara was unconscious in the pilot's seat.
"Tara, wake up. Tara." He shook her gently.
"Uwah?" she lifted her head. Her Recon helmet visor was slightly cracked and the respirators beneath it were broken off. She fell unconscious again.
"Ice." He called out to the AI.
"Sir?"
Eject yourself from the ship's Holo-tank." He commanded. The Ai's chip shot out from the cylindrical stand, shot out towards Travis, who caught it and inserted the chip to the back of his helmet. "See if you can boot anything back up." Travis picked up his comrade and walked to the back of the ship. He kicked open the cargo bay doors and stepped outside, his snow white armor shone brightly, and he looked up to see where he found himself staring at a monstrous portal inside a giant ring with four large and long 'arms'. He looked down to see he was standing on the fifth one. His HUD came to life as the Radar and his shields came back on to fifty percent. He shook his head and set Tara down, laying her head on a chunk of metal. Here he saw the Banshee fighter land and open. Out of it came an Elite Storm Zealot wielding an Energy Sword.
The Elite wore maroon red armor that was curved and contoured. The helmet was sleek and long, with four small lights on top. Its sword, the complete opposite, was energy blue. It hummed intently as the plasma particles that were held by the electromagnetic field, boiled. Ready to cut down anything. And with four feet of length, the sword could cut about anything.
"Ah shit." Travis got his gun off his back and pulled back the bolt, chk-chk. He aimed the rifle at the Elite, who tossed an energy sword hilt at him. He wanted to duel.
Shepard and his crew mates surrounded the crash site from a balcony high above. Shepard had witnessed a crash and a humanoid creature in white armor had carried another in its arms, setting it down on a chunk of metal. The purple fighter had touched down and an alien in maroon, battle torn armor approached with a cyan blue sword. The white armored creature drew a gun on it. Shepard looked at Garrus, who had his sniper rifle already loaded and aimed.
"Who goes first?"
"Wait, let's see how this goes." Shepard put up a hand.
Travis caught the energy sword hilt and placed his gun on his back. He whipped the hilt back, unleashing the plasma and electromagnetic field, shaping the plasma into two blades of cyan blue energy. The two circled around each other, examining each other's steps.
"Why are you trying to duel me?" Travis asked.
"A true swordsman can tell when the man he faces will be a worthy fight." The Elite spoke in an Elizabethan tone.
"You have two energy swords, so that means you must have been one of the top Zealot commanders of the Storm Covenant." Travis stepped closer and charged the red alien. He swung for the head, giving massive power behind the swing. The Elite chuckled and lifted his blade, blocking it with ease. Sparks and plasma flew, burning the metal underneath the two. He kicked back the Spartan and swung at the veteran. Travis dodged the attacks, barely getting his armor cut up.
"Yes, how observant of you, young warrior." The Elite paused, "it is an honor when a swordsman hands his enemy the very sword he made." He rushed Travis and kept swinging, leaving a trail of blue behind him with every swing. Travis parried back, swinging at the expert killer. The Elite dodged with the grace of a ballet dancer and swung back. The two clashed for about ten minutes until the Zealot found an opening in Travis' guard and lunged forward, clipping the Spartan's abdomen. Travis gasped as the blade not only cut him; the plasma of the sword boiled his cells. Travis dropped the sword and fell to the ground grabbing his side. He rolled over to the side and got up, aiming his rifle at the Elite.
Garrus looked at Shepard, who nodded approval to fire. The Turian aimed his rifle at the alien in red and fired a single shot at the back of the attacker who was deflecting bullets with its sword.
Travis unloaded his magazine into the Elite, who blocked it with his sword; the bullets all vaporized in the hot plasma. Crack. A round went off and the Elite spun around as he was hit, his energy shields broken. Travis dropped his assault rifle and unsheathed his combat knife and charged the Elite. The Zealot turned around, prepping a plasma grenade, and faced the Spartan who lunged at him. Travis jumped onto the Elite, impaling the knife into its neck before realizing the ever-getting-brighter grenade, stuck inside his chest piece. He looked at the Elite, who smiled smugly.
"Mother Fu-" the grenade blew up in a flurry of blues and purples. Travis found himself on the floor with his chest piece blown off and one dead Elite Zealot on the floor across from him. He crawled up off the floor, fuzziness at the edge of his eyes, he dragged himself to Tara as more ships of unfamiliar nomenclature, surrounded him. He grabbed a bubble shield grenade, activated it, and tossed it into the ground, creating a bubble shield around him and Tara before he succumbed to the darkness.