Master Chief: Protector of Equestria

“Chief, Knight behind you!” a marine shouted.

Master Chief John-117 raised his DMR and turned around just in time to have a Knight’s orange hardlight blade stab through his chestplate. Blood spurted from the wound, and Chief’s visor display flickered and disappeared.

The Knight pulled his blade out of Master Chief’s chest and Master Chief hit the ground with a heavy thud of metal on grass. The marines focused their fire on the Promethean, quickly killing it. As it died, it disintegrated in the death that became so common to see on the fake forerunner planet, Requiem.

“We need an emergency medical evac, NOW!” A marine called into his radio.

Static crackled from the radio, and a voice said “unable to evac, extraction point is too hot”

“Then shoot the goddamn Crawlers! We gotta get chief outta here now!” the marine yelled. There was a pause in the radio transmission.

“Falcons flying over for a strafing run. Firing for effect.” the voice from the radio said.

As that conversation was happening, marines were frantically applying liberal amounts of bio-foam to Master Chief’s wound. Chief’s chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“Nothing’s working! We gotta get him to an evac point now,” a marine said after the marines used all of the available bio-foam.

At that moment, a formation of falcons flew over, shooting everything they had at the Crawlers below while still maintaining speed.

After the falcons took out all the Prometheans, the marines looked at the only clearing for miles and saw the last thing they wanted to see at this moment, flying toward the clearing.

Three phantoms, two loaded with wraiths, the other with two ghosts

“I am not dealing with this scum!” a defected elite in the marine’s squad said in Sangheili. He sprinted out to the clearing, remembering that at least one of the Knights had an incineration cannon.

He found the incineration cannon, picked it up, and aimed it at the middle phantom. There was a blipping, then an extended beep.

“Take this, scum suckers!” he screamed, firing the promethean weapon at the incoming phantoms. The shot flew through the air, hitting the middle phantom.

After the explosion cleared, the marine could see falling covenant and purplish-blue smoke where the phantom was.

The elite checked his ammo and saw he had only one shot left.

“Where’s a plasma launcher when you need one?” the elite muttered. He reloaded the launcher.

He aimed at the left phantom, let the launcher lock on, and fired. The shot aimed true and blew up the second phantom. The elite leaned to the right a bit, annoyed that there was still one phantom left.

Amazingly, the after-explosion tracking explosives changed course and flew after the last phantom, wounding it but not killing it.

The phantom was smoking and teetering heavily, and the elite knew the phantom was a sniper shot away from exploding. He knew because he had experienced it. Quite recently in fact.

“If someone has a sniper, shoot that damn phantom now!” the elite roared in English.

A marine with a sniper aimed at the phantom and fired.

The phantom exploded in a fabulous display of purple, white, and blue.

Back at the radio, the voice spoke. “Whoever that marine was, he needs a commendation.”

Up at the last explosion site, or below it, to be more accurate, a kig-yar was falling, alive, and trying to maintain aim of his beam rifle. The jackal fired, hitting the Elite square in the back.

Unfortunately for the Elite, his shields were down, and the beam ripped through the Elite’s flesh, wounding him as grievously as Master Chief was wounded.

----------------------Back on the UNSC infinity, finally back in the air after the crash----------------------

“The evac has been completed, men. We must remove Chief’s armor and heal him. The elite who so willingly fought to help us also needs seeing to,” the commander said.

Doctors wheeled Master Chief to the Spartan Armor Remover and placed his unconscious body in the mounts. At the same time, the elite were being placed on a surgery bed, about to be treated for plasma-induced internal burns.

“Doctor, the elite isn’t stabilizing, but we have to do something for him.” a nurse said.

“We can do nothing but ensure a painless death for him now.” the doctor said sternly.

In another wing of the ship, Chief’s wound was being treated.

After an hour of medical work, the doctors have made no headway in saving Master Chief.

“We might have to let him go. . .” a doctor said.

The Chief leaned his head up and said, “I know I’m going to die. I just want to die next to the elite who risked his life to help me and his squad.”

The doctor opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and nodded.

The doctors began the long walk to the enlisted men's medical wing, pushing Chief in front of them.

When the doctors wheeled Master Chief into the Elite’s room, the elite says, “Aue wrof khu gruis nadael?” (What is he doing in here?)

“He requested he died next to you, as you had risked your life for him. From what I heard, you are in the same boat as him,” the doctor wheeling chief into the room said. “And I know you can understand me, Eyan Ferrus. Quit speaking in sangheili, please.”

“Fine, but I want to die the same time as him, to acquire some honor dying with him.” Eyan said.

“Hey, I’m still alive” chief said. “Weak, alive, and not deaf.”

The captain of the ship then walked into the medical wing.

“Well well, chief. You are fraternizing with the enemy. That’s treason. On my ship, the penalty of treason is death” the captain said. He pulled out two magnums and aimed at the elite’s head and chief’s head respectively. “This Elite does not belong on this ship, regardless of whether he defected or not.”

“You do that, and your crew will overthrow you, captain” Chief said. “Within a week, you will no longer have control of this ship.”

“You think I care? You are just a man, like me. Men kill each other.” the captain said, glaring at chief.

“Then do it. I’m going to die anyway.” chief said defiantly.

With that comment, the captain pulled the triggers of both pistols, hitting chief and Eyan square in the forehead simultaneously.

The duo stood in the darkness, everything silent.

“Aue ei wruq? Ei wer skraq gruis oss mwek, amreia?” eyan asked. (Am I dead? I was shot in the head, right?)

“Yeah, we were.” Chief replied in perfect sangheili.

“I didn’t know you could speak our noble language, John-117. . .” Eyan noted.

“Well, when you’ve done as many covert ops as me, you pick up a few things. . .” Chief trailed off. The duo stood silently for a minute or two.

“Am I hallucinating, or are we in our armor? I remember we were both removed from our armor when they attempted to heal us.” Eyan said.

“Yeah, I was wondering the same thing. We need to get our bearings and set up a camp” Chief said.

A twig snapped behind the duo. They twisted around and pointed their pistols at the sound’s location. A pink mane and butter-yellow equine body appeared in the green glow of Eyan’s plasma pistol.

“o-oh, my. . .” a light, feminine voice said in English

Chief lowered his weapon and Eyan followed suit. Chief turned to Eyan and asked, “We aren’t hallucinating, are we? That small horse just spoke, didn’t it?”

“It seems it did, John.” Eyan replied.

Chief turned around and kneeled down in front of the Technicolor pony. “As you seem to be a sentient being, do you have a name?” Chief asked the pony.

“m-my name is f-fluttersh-shy . . . please don’t hurt me” the pony said, hiding behind its forehooves.