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Forgotten Emotions Master Cheif, a.k.a. John 117, ran over the sand. By the time the pelicans dusted off, he was well in combat. He took a greande and lobbed it into the crowd, leaping behind a turned over covenant crate. The explosion sent sand and shrapnel flying into the air, sending an elite flying into the cliff wall. Master Cheif rolled out, his machine gun flareing. Two grunts buckled over under the fire, fireing off their weapons in desperation. Master Cheif ran over to a group of jackles, trying to take them out with with hand-to-hand tactics. He punched one jackle's sheild, taking it out instantly. He then raised his gun and gave it a short burst of rounds to the chest. He shot out a side kick to the other jackles head, snapping it's neck. The last jackle ran away at full speed, covering it's head with both hands. Master Cheif grabbed his pistol with his free hand and shot the jackle once in the back, killing it instantly. He wheeled around, sliding his pistol back into it's holster. Two elites ran at the master cheif, wailing in their foreign tounge. Master Cheif ran at them, then reakizing something. There were three or them just a minute ago.....Then he heard it. He knew it was almost over. The sound of a gun swishing through the air. The elite came up behind him, and was about to break his neck with a quick strike. John closed his eyes tightly, expecting the inevitable. Then, from out of nowhere, the sound of an assault rifle tore through the air. The elite fell forward onto Master Cheif, dead as a doorknob. Master Cheif lept backwards, lobbing a grenade onto the ground in front of him. The elites tried to stop too late, not being able to evade the grenade. They both flew backwards in a shower of sand and metal shards. An eerie silence fell over the beach as a wind whipped through the air. Then someone left in the crowd spoke up. "Sir, private Adams reporting, Sir!" Master Cheif wheeled around, raising his gun to the marine. Adams stumbled back a few feet in shock, then snapped back into the attention position. Master Cheif lowered his gun, giving the soldier a loose salute, saying "At ease, soldier. What did you say your name was?" The private stumbled over his words nervously, running his hand over his gotee. "Adams, Sir!" Master Cheif took a step forward and placed his hand on Adams' shoulder, smileing under his reflective blast sheild. "No need to be nervous, private. I'm human under this." For the first time in a while, the Master Cheif felt happy. He felt like this soldier had done him a great favor, risking his life agaisnt an elite. The private relaxed, smileing to. Then a shot rang out in the sky. The marine screamed loudly grabbing his back. He fell over as the Master Cheif grabbed him, trying to hold him up. Blood curdled from the privates mouth as he choked on his own blood. A sergent in the crowd fired a few rounds at a jackle that had not died. Master Cheif looked into the privates eyes as he slipped into shock. Adams soon gave way to death, going completely still. Master Cheif laid him down, closing his eyes slowly. The sergent walked up to him, saying "Sir, Echo 419 has just dropped off a Warthog. We have to get going." Master Cheif shook his head, still looking down. "Give the soldiers five minutes to regroup, and have Echo 419 take this marine back to HQ. Tell them I request a special burial at space for him." Master Cheif stood and walked off as the sergent lifted the dead marine and carried him to the dropship. This is why John hated war. |
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