Is it worth it?

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own any of Bungie's or Halo's original characters. And yes, Master Chief still kicks ass!
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'Wonderful,' Master Chief grimaced, 'Flood in front of me and Elites behind. Where's a rocket launcher when you need one? Hell, I'd even settle for a couple grenades.'


The flood combat forms started rushing forward, a sure sign they had noticed his presence. Gritting his teeth, the Spartan instantly tightened the armor around his problem areas with his mind-link to the suit, prepping himself for battle. He may be unarmed. But he was not defenseless.


Bringing himself into a defensive stance, Master Chief grinned and said with steely determination, "Bring it on."

----

The Elites were closing in, Ghlariknee in the lead, the four other red Elites trailing behind. They had been surprised, at first, when Drajha-Lee had informed them that the Demon was still on High Charity. But then they had unhesitatingly volunteered to go, if only to see the notorious Demon. All except the grunts who decided to stay and mind the Phantom, using the lame excuse that they were not feeling too well.


Long before the major Sanghelli had caught up, they heard the distinct sounds of battle ahead. Eager for a chance to polish their skills, the five Elites surged ahead.

----

Hearing the shots of stolen carbines, pistols, and assault rifles, the Spartan rolled quickly for refuge behind a pile of rubble. Crouching low, he readied himself for whoever would come after him first. Predictably, one of the combat forms leaped high over the rubble, landing with his back to the Chief. It didn't seem to notice as it suddenly found half its arm missing. As it turned, the missing hand could be seen dangling off of Master Chief's newly acquired shotgun.


'Lucky me.' Master Chief grinned, even as the flood combat form fell dead before him.


More flood poured in, forcing the Spartan to dodge, roll, and shoot as he barely managed to manuever in the suddenly crowded corridor. A few shots and even fewer limbs slammed against Master Chief's shields, bringing them down a quarter of the way. With a delicately placed shot and a tug, the UNSC soldier managed to acquire an assault rifle as well. Doubly armed, he made good use of the weapons, spraying every once in a while with the rifle as he took more precise shots with the bigger gun in his right hand.


Master Chief was torn between not getting cornered and not having his back open to attack. So he was stuck in an endless cycle of backing up to a wall before barely dodging and sprinting away in an attempt to not get overwhelmed. The Spartan was starting to get ticked. And he was getting ticked because he was getting worried. How long could he keep this up?


'For as long as it takes.'


He felt his shields drain under a new barrage of attacks. His movements were starting to slow as the adrenaline failed to keep his energy up. His fists tightened around the weapons and he leapt into battle with a new burst of vigor. 'I've fought under worst conditions. Against tougher odds. So what if I have no backup. I've fought alone countless times before.'


But a small voice inside his head pointed out that he was stranded. His communicator was either malfunctioning or damaged by the fall. Where would he go in the flood-ridden High Charity? Abandoned just moments ago by the Human, Covenant, and Covenant Renegade Forces. Angrily, Master Chief shook his head. Thoughts like that wouldn't help him right now. And is if to prove that point, he was shot and slashed at again during his momentary lapse of attention.

----

Upon the sight of the Demon facing hordes of flood, the Elites paused. He was clearly outnumbered. The odds more than a hundred times in the floods' favor. Yet the Demon kept fighting. Dodging, slamming, shooting, and sprinting through the tide of infested lifeforms that always threatened to overwhelm the armored figure.


'He is a foe worthy of respect' Ghlariknee thought approvingly.


Rousing a battle cry from his comrades, the scarlet-clad Elite rushed head on into the fray.

----

The uplifting chorus of roars registered instantly in Master Chief's mind. He grimaced. The Sanghelli were here. But he didn't have time to worry about them just yet. Unless, of course, they decided to kill him as well. Taking one step too far back, the Spartan suddenly found himself sprawled on the ground, having had the unfortunate luck of tripping over a pile of dead flood bodies.


'Damn!'


He focused on taking down any and all combat forms that surged up around him, not daring to allow them to get too close. The assault rifle in his left hand clicked empty. Without a second thought, he chucked it at the flood, his now empty hand instantly groping around for another weapon on the floor. All the while his right hand busied itself shooting the center of as many fucking flood forms he aimed at. Clutching the familiar form of a handheld pistol, he instantly brought it up next to the shotgun, firing away with precision and speed. In the back of his mind, he knew the shotgun couldn't possibly last much longer as he managed to reload it one handed, his newly acquired pistol drilling as many flood bodies as it could in the meantime. Out of the corner of his eye, Master Chief spotted the handful of Elites join the battle. Not sure yet whether this was a good thing, he instead focused on the relentless combat forms around him.


Ghlariknee bombarded the horde with his double plasma rifles, kicking and leaping as some combat forms surged too close for comfort. To either side, he found his comrades caught up in battle same as he. One, having lost his carbine, had drawn out his energy sword with a roar of defiance. Gauging his time correctly, the scarlet Elite drew back his arm and threw the primed plasma grenade into the largest cluster of flood bodies. He had a nagging feeling that might have been near where the Demon fell, but there was nothing he could do to stop the grenade now.


His weapons discarded, Master Chief was busy wrestling with an over eager combat form. While struggling to get the infected figure off of him, he also used its body to shield himself from the blows and shots of the flood surrounding him. Suddenly, a rush of blinding light and sound overtook over him. The explosion taking away more than two-thirds of the bodies surrounding him.


'Plasma grenade' the thought registered weakly in his mind.


He had been unprepared, unable to adjust and dim his visor before the light from the grenade blinded him. Spots danced in his vision, temporarily blinding him. But one unusually large spot caught his attention.


'What the-' Master Chief lunged forward as he suddenly realized that the 'spot' had in fact been the front of a rocket launcher. Slamming his fist with a newfound strength, the struggling combat form ceased its movements after a few well-placed blows.


"Humph, don't mind me..." Master Chief commented lightly as he pried the rocket launcher from its previous user's cold grasp.


Maybe the Flood always had reserves pouring in from supposedly nowhere, but in the end Master Chief usually found that the torrent would stop. Whether because they were all killed or...


'Or because I have a freaking huge launcher on my shoulder.' He thought to himself with a grim grin.


Aiming as well as he could in the precious little time gap he had, Master Chief chose a particularly weak looking spot on the ceiling and fired all loaded rockets in that same direction. Chucking the rocket launcher, the Spartan spun and sprinted away as fast as he could, disregarding any and all attacks in his direction. After all, he just didn't feel like an early grave today.


The Elites' found their green armored quarry hauling ass away from the battle, back the way he had come. Shrugging off the Flood attacks, they exchanged glances and took off as well. If the Demon was running that fast, then there had to be an extremely good reason why. A few heartbeats later, they found their conclusions satisfyingly correct as the corridor behind them collapsed with several ground-shaking explosions. Half the corridor as well as all of the Flood collapsed under the immense weight of the shattered and broken walls.


'Well, that takes care of that problem...' Master Chief thought wearily to himself.


But all the sudden the pain surged back. Gasping, the Spartan slowed, his arm clutching his side against the hot spike of pain just throbbing for attention. Hearing the footsteps past all the pain, Master Chief whirled to face his new foes, almost keeling over in the process from the sudden rush of dizziness. He cursed angrily at his weakness and for not thinking to grab a weapon on his way out. The Elites wouldn't be as easy to allow him to 'liberate' their weapons.


The scarlet Sanghelli exchanged looks again, stalking closer to the Demon. Approving their caution, Ghlariknee signaled them to surround the supposedly wounded Demon. He could be faking, after all.


"Give yourself up, Demon, and we shall not kill you."


Master Chief scoffed, ending up in a hunched formed as it turned into a fit of coughing. After recovering quickly, the Spartan remained hunched, his form defensive as he commented glaringly, "I do not give up."


"I will gladly take care of him, Ghlariknee." One of the Elites spoke up, gripping his carbine eagerly.


Growling, the red Elite shook his head, "Drahja-Lee wants him captured, if possible."


Master Chief tensed, his gaze flickering between the five surrounding him, "Then I'll just have to make that impossible, won't I?"


"You can try, Demon."


One of the Elites made his move. The one directly behind the Chief. Sensing it more than seeing the attack coming, Master Chief sidestepped it quickly, allowing the Elite to rush past him before counterattacking with a move of his own. That over zealous Elite soon found himself knocked unconscious on the ground and disarmed.


"Fool." Ghlariknee hissed at the one who had acted before his orders, though the insult fell on deaf ears.


Training the carbine on the one who seemed to be the leader, Master Chief said gruffly, "I suggest you all leave."


Finding the tables turned a little out of his favor, Ghlariknee froze. But he wasn't leading the small group of major Sanghelli merely for his strength in battle.Crossing his arms in front of his chest and forcing his stance to relax, the red Elite asked, "And where shall you go?"


Wary at the sudden question, Master Chief snapped, "Why should you care?" Though most of his attention lay on that Elite, he remained very aware of the three others around him.


"I am merely reasoning with you, Demon." Ghlariknee's mandibles formed into something that appeared to be a frown, "All your human soldiers have left. They obviously have not come back for you. What shall you do?"


"I am fully capable of making that decision on my own." The Spartan drawled, almost sounding bored except for that tint of anger in his voice.


"There are no other functional spacecraft." Ghlariknee warned, his voice firm with his utter conviction, "We made sure they were all destroyed. We could not allow any flood to leave this planet since the Covenant obviously have not 'glassed' their precious High Charity, as you humans so aptly call it."


"...." Master Chief's grip tightened slightly on his stolen weapon, his breath shaky as he tried remaining standing and ready for attack. As much as he hated to admit it, the Sanghelli did have a point. The Spartan stumbled as a wave of blackness attempted to consume him. Shaking himself and standing once more, Master Chief attempted to make it seem like he wasn't phased by either the Elite's arguments or his own fatigue.


"Your wounds need attention, Demon. It would be wise to accompany us without resistance."


His pain surged forward, as if aware it was being talked about. Gritting his teeth, the arm the Master Chief carried the Carbine with drooped slightly as he placed the other hand on his forehead, shaking his head as if the very movement would rid him of the persistant ache. The Elite grinned, assured of his upcoming victory. The others shuffled, disliking the place and wary of attacks, either from the Demon himself or from flood lurking around.


"I..." Master Chief gasped, "I... refuse."


"Suit yourself De-"


But before Ghlariknee could finish his statement, the Demon had moved faster than he could track with his eyes. But it wasn't to attack as the Sanghelli had expected, but rather to quickly take his helmet off. Hunched over, his helmet tossed carelessly to the side, the Master Chief vomitted. Relaxing from the tense expectation of battle, the Elites observed the sick Demon warily. His rugged brown hair was flattened, as was usual after wearing his Spartan helmet. His pale skin seemed a contrast to the deep sage green of his armor. But what caught their attention most was his burning blue eyes. They reinforced a fact the Sanghelli had come to learn. That the Demon was not someone to be taken lightly.


"It seems the fall has taken more out of you than you had anticipated, Demon."


"You try surviving a fatal drop." Master Chief growled defensively, "Then let's see if you'll even be alive to throw anything up."


Ignoring the statement, Ghlariknee stooped to retrieve the Demon's discarded helmet. Master Chief froze. How could he have been so careless? Clenching his fists in anger, he took a deep breath to calm himself down. Anger would get him nowhere right now, "I have an idea. How about we exchange my helmet for your Sanghelli's carbine, and we'll go our separate ways."


"I have an even better idea. We all leave, now." The Elite replied, impatience creeping into his voice.
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blah blah blah. If you're reading this for the romance, it won't be coming for a while. And it won't be that luvey dovey crap. Also, as a word of caution, the pairing will be yaoi. So if you're against that stuff... then I'd be really confused as to why you're still reading this.