MLP: ODST - Hazardous Venture

Chapters

Chapter 2: Discovery
Chapter 3: Diplomatic Endeavors
Chapter 4: Dogfight
Chapter 5: Counterattack
Chapter 7: Third Act Twist
Chapter 8: Plan B
Chapter 9: Blitzkrieg
Chapter 11: Trident Liberation
Chapter 12: Final Act
Chapter 13: Reinforcements
Chapter 14: Resident Warfighter
Chapter 1: Strange New World
Chapter 6: One Last Push
Chapter 10: Boarding Action
Epilogue

Chapter 2: Discovery

“Squad, listen up,” Joe said, “set up a perimeter for the engineers. Rookie, you'll head North with me to scout out ahead. Keep your ears on, all of you. Perimeter channel is 3, Scout channel is 5, emergency channel is 7. Pass-phrases are as follows: Thunder – challenge, Welcome – counter, Blitzkrieg – divert all assets to assist, Now Hear This – new objective. Challenge twice, then fire a warning shot, then shoot to maim, once a positive ID is made. Only call Blitzkrieg if the base is in threat of being overrun. Understood?” Joe barked.

“Yes, sir!” all of the ODSTs responded.

“There may be civilians in this area, divert them away from this base until we can safely process them through,” Joe added.

“Understood, sir,” Moose responded.

Joe and the Rookie started walking to the North, in the hopes of encountering somepony around hear. Joe switched to channel 7, “mic check, break. Switch to channel 3 next, over.” All green lights lit up on Joe's HMD comm monitor. “Mic check, break. Switch to channel 5 next, over.” The Rookies light failed to illuminate. “Bad mic: Rookie. Switch to appropriate channels, out,” Joe said.

The Scouts (Joe and the Rookie) reached the edge of the forest after 12min. Ponyville was in view.

“You head to Fluttershy's cottage, then try to find Pinkie Pie. I'll be at Twilight's library, then the Apple Farm,” ordered Joe, “Fire a green flare if help is needed, red is reserved for emergencies only.”

“Yes, sir,” the Rookie responded and departed.

Joe switched to channel 3, “Perimeter, green flares may be deployed, ignore those. They are intended for myself. If it is red, then something very bad is about to happen. All active forces should respond to those flares, out.”

Joe continued his walk through the deserted streets of Ponyville, “I guess Pinkie Pie is throwing a party. I hope Twilight is still stuck in her studies.” Joe came up to Twilight's home, he slung his rifle over his shoulder, and knocked thrice on the door. No response. He knocked again. No answer. Joe opened the door and glanced around, making sure not to step inside, out of respect. He called out, “Hello, anypony in here?” Joe heard the turn of a page, to put into perspective the quietness in Ponyville. “Twilight?” he asked. Still no answer. “Twilight Sparkle!” Joe yelled, hearing a brief shriek as Twilight jumped.

“Oh, sorry. Didn't notice you there,” she said from around the corner.

“May I come in, my friends and I are a little lost,” Joe inquired.

“Sure, I'll be there in a minute,” she responded. Joe walked in and found a seat. He laid his rifle across his lap, doing some basic weapon checks to pass the time. Twilight returned, with a book still infront of her face. “Heck of a page-turner, eh?” Joe asked.

“Why yes!” she replied, “I'm studying for a test on foreign organisms.”

“Well, I think we can help each other then. Why don't you put down the book so we talk without distractions?” Joe asked, standing up. Twilight set down the book, but her cheery expression turned to one of shock when she saw the 6'7”, black-armor clad, bipedal, soldier standing infront of her. “I am Sergeant Joe, of the United Nation Space Command, 105th Orbital Drop Shock Trooper regiment. We are far from any world the UN has visited before, and we have no way to return home. I would like to know if our stay is welcome,” Joe said, depolarizing his visor, so Twilight could see his face.

“I haven't read about anything outside of Equestria. Oh, where are my manners, I'm Twilight Sparkle, though I believe you already knew that. What are you?” she said.

“I am a human, a species originating from a planet called Earth, though I have no way of returning home,” Joe responded. Twilight ran to her bookshelves, trying to maintain a conversation as she looked for a book on Humans. “How did you know my name?” she asked. Joe hastily looked around the room, and noticed some letters signed “Twilight Sparkle.” Joe responds, “I saw those unfinished letters down there, and I assumed they were yours. If you want, I can give you a book that summarizes human history if you'd like.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” Twilight said enthusiastically.

“Just remember, human history is filled with bloodshed, I would only recommend reading until you reach the chapter about wars,” Joe forewarned.

“Understood, but why until then?” Twilight asked.

“Because we just fought a war against an alien alliance that almost caused us to go extinct, and I want the future of humanity to be focused on rebuilding and making peace. I'm tired of such bloodshed. We were on our way to deliver some historic relics to a museum when we ended up hear. Now, what can you tell me about yourself?” Joe responded.

“Well, I'm friends with: Applejack; the farmer, Rarity; the dress designer, Rainbow Dash; the showoff, Fluttershy; the animal whisperer, Pinkie Pie; the baker / party thrower; and I, myself, am hear to study the effects and benefits of the magic of friendship,” Twilight said, “You should talk to my friends if you want to learn more.”

“Thanks, I have a squad setting up a Forward Operating Base in the forest to the South, and I have the other Scout, myself being one of the two, headed towards the cottage, and town plaza. I'm supposed to rendezvous with him at the farm, or the plaza. Can you give me a tour, some research materials, or even a census of this town and its people?” Joe said.

“Sure. The tower in the plaza is currently being used as city hall, nearby is Sugar Cube Corner, the bakery of various pastries in this town. Near the southern edge of town is Fluttershy's cottage, and Rainbow Dash's home is in the sky, but is commonly in the North. The rather ornate house is where Rarity resides, and Sweet Apple Acres is the farm that Applejack lives at. I would talk to Princess Celestia in Canterlot's castle if you have further questions,” Twilight informed (to the best of this author's memory).

“Thank you. I would like to talk to Celestia first, she should be able to understand my predicament. Most government officials tend to be kind to foreigners,” Joe said. Twilight led Joe to the train station, and decided to accompany him on the journey. “How long is a typical train ride to Canterlot?” Joe asked, yawning. A lot has happened in his 18 hour shift.

“Long enough to get some shut-eye, I'll wake you when we get there,” Twilight said.

“Thanks,” Joe says as he practically passes out.

Chapter 3: Diplomatic Endeavors

The deceleration woke Joe before Twilight could do it herself. Joe woke up with a start, rifle drawn, chambered, and aimed. “What's the matter?” asked Twilight.

“Flashbacks from the war, when I was shot down. I took refuge on the summit of Olympus Mons, the largest mountain in my solar system. The ensuing battle lasted 3 days. Command could only drop two tanks near me. The tank crews held that rock for as long as possible. They covered my escape. I haven't seen them since. They were disabled, immobile, but they continued the fight. Spent every shell they had, even brought down a few secessionists in hand-to-hand combat. They were either captured or killed, to this day, I do not know,” Joe recalled, “Sorry, that... just sort of... spilled out. Let's get going.”

“Sounds like you've been through a lot, let's go,” Twilight agreed. The two arrived at the castle, just as Joe received a communique on the scout channel. “Joe, those diplomats who wanted a sneak peak at the museum pieces got their priorities straight. They want to see if you can establish an embassy. Forwarding their documents to you now,” Moose said. Joe brought up the documents, they outlined the basics for foreign policy of the UN. “Twilight, I've just received orders to attempt to establish a UN embassy hear. Your word may carry a lot of weight, will you recommend the embassy's construction?” Joe inquired.

“Sure, you seem nice enough. I hope that we can be friends in the future,” Twilight stated.

“I hope so, but if the embassy doesn't get built, I have got to leave and stay on the Victory, the ship I arrived hear in, until I can leave,” Joe said. The royal guard stopped Joe at the door. It didn't seem like they were going to budge. “I am hear to negotiate with Princess Celestia on the construction of a foreign embassy in this land. I have been delegated standard ambassadorship to the furthest extent of the United Nations,” Joe said, regally.

“It's OK, let him through,” Twilight said, and the guards parted justly.

“Words only carry so much weight,” Joe muttered, “Thanks.”

The two entered, and Celestia was about, doing her rounds. She tensed at the sight of such an unusual creature as Joe, but eased as she saw Joe's escort. Celestia asked, “Who is he?”

Joe interjected by saying, “I am serving as a diplomat of the United Nations, and the United Nations would like to establish an embassy in your great land, do we have your permission?” Joe said kindly.

“Tell me about your people first, then let me reach my decision,” Celestia responded. After what seemed like hours, Joe finished the summary of human history that the diplomats on board the Victory gave him. “Seems legitimate, I allow the construction of your embassy. The embassy, however, must be constructed with Ponyville as the nearest city, but cannot be too distant from it,” Celestia arbitrated as she handed you a map of Equestria, “Choose your embassy's location.”

Joe pointed to the edge of the Everfree forest, directly where the LZ was. “On another matter, humans have never been here before, never met a pony like these ponies before. I would like to know if you could tell me more about your people, specificly around Ponyville?” Joe inquired. The Princess gave Joe a book saying, “Everything you need is in here,” and left. Good thing Joe learned the written pony language, because these were not in English.
Earlier

The Rookie followed Joe's orders to head towards Fluttershy's cottage, and left Joe at the edge of the Everfree as they departed towards their separate destinations. Once there, he knocked on the door three times. The door swung open to reveal Fluttershy. Fluttershy immediately started treating him very gently, although she practically dragged the Rookie in as she was feebly attempting to hide her joy. She loves to meet new animals, just as Pinkie Pie loves to meet new people. The Rookie decided to be polite and wait for an opportunity to talk. In the ensuing awkward silence, the Rookie managed to say “Hello”. Fluttershy was shocked that her new guest could speak so fluently, and she started to smother the Rookie with inquiries. The Rookie decided to tell the full story, “I was sent here to try to get some help. The ship that I came here in is currently out of commission, so I have no way to return home. This, coupled with the fact that we are lost, is not so good with the delivery schedule we have.”

“What can I help you with? Is there something you need?” Fluttershy responded.

“I will need a map, and then I will need to find Pinkie Pie. Also, me and the other troops know a lot more about this place than you might think, or at least some of us. We have a base in the Everfree Forest, so I would stay out of there. The men on perimeter watch have been authorized to attack those who do not provide the proper countersign,” the Rookie informed. Fluttershy quickly got a map for the Rookie, and said,”Should we go find Pinkie Pie, or would you like to wait a little while longer?”

“Now would be fine, my CO is supposed to meet me at Sugar Cube Corner,” the Rookie responded. The two departed, Fluttershy still clearly excited to meet a creature she has never seen before.

Moments later, they arrived at Sugar Cube Corner, which was packed. Apparently Pinkie was throwing a party. It looked like the whole town was here. The Rookie took the lead, and approached Pinkie. “Glad to meet you, I'm supposed to wait it out until my CO gets here. Care to introduce yourself?” the Rookie said, keeping his manners. Pinkie Pie was somewhat shocked at the new guest, as were the other ponies, judging by the wave of silence. Pinkie immediately started rambling off random bits of information about her, it was very difficult for the Rookie to follow (let alone for this author to write). After the 15 minute introduction, the Rookie countered, “I need to meet up with my Commanding Officer, he was the second man on this scouting mission. The two rendezvous points are Sweet Apple Acres, and here. I would like it if you could show me the way.” Pinkie was out the door in the blink of an eye, the Rookie had to sprint to keep up. Maybe Pinkie was a little too excited at her new friend.

On the way to their destination, the entourage of three encountered a fourth, it was Rainbow Dash. “Howdy!” the Rookie said. Rainbow landed nearby, an inquisitive look on her face.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am the rookie of the platoon that is set up in the Everfree. We don't know how we got here, we have never been here before, we have no idea of how to get back, and we are from a different world,” the Rookie summarized.

“What are you wearing, it doesn't look natural?” Rainbow asked.

“This is a standard issue advanced combat hard-suit with EVA thrusters, deployable hardened wingsuit, and a jetpack. I have broken the speed of sound in this, during a training flight,” the Rookie said.

“I doubt that, nobody's faster than me,” Rainbow said, her ego evident.

“Want to put that to the test? How about this for a competition: fastest dive speed, smallest turn radius, highest velocity under 100 ft, highest velocity above 30000 ft, and best stunts. What do you say?” the Rookie countered.

“You're on,” said RD.

“One more thing: the flight may be assisted or powered,” the Rookie added. The two shook on it. They also agreed on the date to be one week from now, they would need the time to train and build hype. The newly formed patrol of four continued to march to the Apple Farm, with Pinkie leading. Applejack greeted the entourage with a standard hello, until she saw the Rookie. “What in tarnation is that?” asked Applejack. The Rookie gave a similar introduction to that which he greeted Rainbow Dash with. “Huh, so your new around here?” Applejack responded.

“New to everything, otherwise the squad wouldn't be calling me 'rookie',” said the Rookie, in a half- joking response. After a minor discussion, AJ joined in the search for Joe.
Later

Joe and Twilight arrived back in Ponyville, only to be greeted by the aforementioned group. They weren't as shocked as Joe. “Guess things went better than expected?” Joe asked.

“Pretty good overall. There is a flight competition between me and Rainbow Dash scheduled for next week, what are your thoughts on it?” the Rookie responded.

“Let's see if we can make it an entire airshow! The Wonderbolts will be preforming in Ponyville, in one week, to honor the construction of our embassy in the Everfree. I think we can convince the Blue Angels to join, and the Golden Knights still owe me a favor. This is going to be off the charts, what do you say Rainbow Dash?” Joe explained.

“This is going to be so awesome!!!” Rainbow Dash responded.

“Let's inform Celestia once we know if this joint airshow over Ponyville will be possible,” Twilight interjected.

“Agreed. Rookie, let's RTB and see if we can make this happen,” Joe said.

Chapter 4: Dogfight

In the Victory's hangar, Joe climbed aboard an F/A–18E Super Hornet that was intended for the war reenactment on Mars. The aircraft was painted the historic blue and gold of the famous 21st century stunt fliers. Tomorrow was the day of the airshow, everything was set to go off without a hitch. The last time Joe had entered a Hornet was during the Martian Insurrection. During the insurrection, the orbiting fleet was wiped out, and Joe had to use aircraft and tanks from a nearby private collection. There were F-18s, F-51s, P-47s, SR-71s, A-12s, A-10s, D/M-21s, X-43Bs, F-35s, F-22s, and Spitfire XXXs in the aircraft section, and Sheridans, Abrams, Shermans, Tigers, Panzers, and T-34s in the tank section. Somehow Joe and his company managed to hold Olympus Mons until the Infinity arrived three weeks later. The insurrectionists were shocked at how much firepower the 21st century had at its disposal. By the time the Infinity had arrived, the insurrection was suppressed. The private collector kept his collection in remarkable condition, and with enough munitions nearby for full war-time loads on the aircraft. After Joe was shot down over Mons, he parachuted back to the hangar, and grabbed a P-47 equipped with: 2x 1000 lbs bombs, 8x .50 caliber Brownings, 10x 5 in. rockets, and one center-line external fuel tank. That Thunderbolt had lost two cylinders and half a wing, yet it still returned him home, despite being on fire. The Thunderbolt, however, was too slow for the enemy radar to track and lock him. Joe targeted the enemy radar stations to clear a path for the MOAB-equipped C-130 they found. The C-130 cleared the enemy stronghold, and later started dropping Sheridans at the enemy's doorstep to back up the Abrams and T-34s. The insurrectionists were overpowered very quickly, and the war was won by the end of the month. Joe and the Victory were on their way to participate in the reenactment, honoring the one-year anniversary of that fateful battle.

Joe came back to his senses, and throttled to max. Once out of the Victory's hangar, Joe started to dive to a height where the engines could breathe a little easier. After Joe pulled out of the dive, he was at 20,000 ft, and Rainbow Dash appeared on his wing. Joe signaled for Rainbow Dash to turn on the radio he gave her, and then to switch to channel 4. “Dash, do you read?” Joe inquired.

“Loud and clear!” the pegasus replied.

“Are you sure you're up to the race? I had to talk to the Rookie to make sure he would give you a chance.” Joe asked.

“I could beat him any day!” RD replied. The Rookie appeared on Joe's 4 o'clock. The Rookie was flying a heavily upgraded F-51 Mustang (the “F” replaced the “P” for the Korean war of 1950-3, they were the same aircraft though). “I think this will be a fair competition. Joe's Hornet can easily break the speed of sound, while you struggle to do so. As a result, I will fly a prop-driven aircraft that has never before broke the sound barrier,” the Rookie told Rainbow Dash.

“Hey, I can easily do a sonic rainboom!” RD responded.

“The rainbow coloration is merely a coincidence caused by you mane and tail color. Breaking the sound barrier and doing a sonic rainboom are one in the same to you, but either way, this will be a challenge,” Joe interjected.

“And what makes you say that?” asked RD.

“I've modified the Rookie's aircraft to match your speed, so it should be equally difficult for either of you to break the speed of sound. The Gs, however, will be a major factor here,” Joe remarked.

“I still can't recall ever having a Mustang break the sound barrier, not even the twin Mustang,” the Rookie informed.

“Then let's make this one for the record books!” Joe said, “Meet up at the rendezvous in 2 min, I'll call out the starting countdown.” The aviators departed for Cloudsdale.

“Alright, you know the rules. First one to cross the finish line wins. Penalties for hindering an opponent’s performance, and for unsatisfactory flying. Impress the audience; this is a people's champion showdown,” the announcer said.

“Rookie, the Wonderbolts are currently warming up near the finish line. You'll need to use the retro rockets I mounted on the Mustang to perform a STOVL (Shortened TakeOff and Vertical Landing) takeoff. Jettison them as soon as they're depleted. You have about four hours of fuel due to the doubled intake I placed in the engine. The WEP (Wartime Emergency Power) has also been doubled. Pop the WEP towards the end, and remember Candelaria's Reversal!” Joe informed the Rookie.

“Got it! STOVL ready.”

The announcer cut in, “We're waiting for your countdown, Joe.”

“Racers ready! Three... Two... One... GO!!!” Joe yelled.

Rainbow Dash quickly took the lead, but the Mustang's rockets were closing the gap. Ten seconds in, it was neck and neck (or fuselage). Dash was ahead by a nose, then the F-51, then Dash again. RD didn't seem to be breaking a sweet so far. The Mustang hit 530 mph, well above its, otherwise, limit. The rockets ran dry, the Rookie pulled the release lever, and everything seemed to be fine. The Mustang's engine sounded like it was on the verge of exploding, as though it was being pushed beyond any foreseeable limits. Dash was starting to strain to keep up, fatigue evident in her eyes. The Mustang was now at over 680 mph, the atmospheric density preventing the once-thought limit of all, from being shattered. Dash was barely keeping pace. The Rookie was straining under such acceleration Gs. The Wonderbolts in sight, the Rookie hit the methanol injection known as WEP. The engine roared like a banshee, and the mustang jumped forward. The Rookie's G-suit was over-pressured. It looked like the Mustang crashed through a cloud. The speed of sound was broken. Shortly thereafter, a similar rainbow-colored detonation followed. Dash wasn't going to let some FNG beat her that easily. Dash took the lead, the Mustang close behind. The Rookie fire-walled the throttled, the G-suit practically suffocating him. His muscles strained for oxygen. The Mustang held. In a flash of silver and rainbows, the verdict of the race was... a tie.

With her wings sore, Rainbow Dash flew up next to the Rookie. “Looks like we both won!” she said. The Rookie seemed to have blacked out, as no response came. The auto-injectors in the Rookie's hardsuit pumped him full of morphine and adrenaline, but to no avail. A black creature rushed past the Mustang in a power dive, a green hue surrounding it. The Rookie recovered from his temporary nap just in time to witness the bogey. He watched it descend until it impacted the ground, then he looked up. He saw what it was: an armada of Changelings. “Rainbow Dash, we have hostile Changelings in the airspace! Joe, I'm all bark and so are you. Rendezvous with the Victory and rearm a Broadsword for heavy combat!” The Rookie ordered.

Joe responded, “Already en route. Use your reserve rockets to reach the Victory in low orbit.”

To Dash and the others, it looked like our heroes were abandoning them.

Chapter 5: Counterattack

The two ODSTs were flying, side-by-side. Broadswords fully rearmed, complete with HAVOC tactical nukes. “I pray we never have to use such firepower,” the Rookie commented.

“I pity anyone who stands against us. Do you have that Forerunner teleporter with you?” Joe asked.

“Yes, this should come in handy. Too bad it's the only prototype. Push the big button, and you're back on the Victory,” The Rookie said.

The Broadswords maintained their high orbit until they got a distress call, “The city is being overrun! We need air support!” It sounded like Kraut, one of their squadmates. “Kraut, what are you doing there? You are supposed to be defending the embassy!” Joe said.

“Joe, I saw people getting hurt, so I helped out. Now are you going to help us, or leave us to die for our country?” Kraut countered. The two pilots fire-walled their throttles. “Help inbound, just hang in there!” Joe yelled, “Rookie, we'll divide their forces by drawing their attention via low-level flyover. I'll pull vertical, while you bring them past the minimum safe distance by going over the mountain the city rests on. You're on your own once we split.”

“Let's do this,” the Rookie said solemnly.

The Broadswords streaked down, well past Mach 5, and at treetop level, pulled out for the flyover. The tremendous boom drew the attention of the entire city, and all of the Changelings gave chase. Joe pulled up, the Changelings easily following in his slipstream. The Rookie rolled right and gave it full pitch, to place the mountain between him and the Changelings. The Rookie's maneuver bled off too much speed, and the Changelings started tearing apart his aircraft. The Rookie hit the minimum safe distance, and pulled the yellow handle by his crotch; the ejector handle. His Broadsword crashed in front of him as his reentry pack slowed his descent. The Rookie landed amongst the wreckage, and he grabbed the HAVOK. In the distance, amongst the attacking Changelings, he saw Queen Chrysalis. He ignited his jetpack, and charged at her, the desire to end this invasion prevalent in his eyes and heart. In flight, he grabbed the queen, and continued onward, away from the relieved royal city. His jetpack sputtered, and he brought the queen down with him. The thousands of Changelings giving hot pursuit to defend their queen. The two impacted the ground, and slid away from eachother like rag dolls. The Rookie tried to stand, but his knees buckled under the Changeling's relentless attacks. He drew the one weapon he still had, the HAVOK. He pulled the arming pin, and slammed the detonator down. In a bright flash, the queen, the Rookie, and the Changelings were gone.

Joe continued his ascent, even after seeing the nuclear blast behind him. Once in low orbit, Joe set the timed fuses on the Medusa missiles, and ejected. As he drifted through space, the fastest Changelings were still gripping onto the unoccupied Broadsword, only to be vaporized 15 seconds later. Joe promptly drew his two SMGs and took aim at the remaining threats. Apparently Changelings are immune to atmospheric discrepancies, such as air. Making sure his movements would be countered with his EVA systems, Joe took aim. The rounds could hardly be heard in the thin, almost-entirely Hydrogen atmosphere of 150,000 ft. 120 rounds later, there were several fallen Changelings, but this battle was far from over. Joe tossed his now-empty SMGs, and drew the Energy Sword he 'requisitioned' on Requiem. EVA thrusters burning, Joe charged the Changeling threat. The zero-G environment made Joe start to realize the value of EVA combat training. Joe saw a Changeling take aim with a spell he wasn't familiar with. Joe let the Changeling fire unmolested, only for him to draw his Hardlight Shield moments before impact, deflecting the attack.

It seemed like hours later, but Joe had finally defeated the last Changeling. He reoriented himself and used his own jetpack to begin his atmospheric reentry. Like a comet, Joe sped down to the blast site he witnessed earlier. At 2,000 ft, he reversed and activated his reentry pack. Upon landing, Joe was greeted by nothing. His Geiger-counter remained silent, as is characteristic of a HAVOK detonation. “Nothing but dust and echoes...” Joe muttered to himself, looking for his lost squadmate. He found ground-zero; a charred, scorched crater of earth that marked where the Rookie had been.

Remembering something, Joe radioed the Victory, “Victory, do you read me. I need to know where the Rookie is. He detonated his HAVOK here on the ground.” There was no response. “Victory, do you read me?” Nothing. “I guess a one of those Changelings got in a lucky hit...” Joe commented to himself.

Joe looked to his right, and was greeted with what was left of the scorched forest. He turned left, only to find a pile of molten slag that was the Rookie's Broadsword. Joe looked down, only to find the crunching glass beneath his boots. He looked skyward, and saw nothing but open sky. However, he saw something more. Something no one else would have seen. He saw hope.

Joe turned 180 degrees, and ran back to Canterlot. He needed to guarantee the rest his squads' safety. Once there, Celestia greeted him amongst the wreckage and his squad. Joe popped a brisk salute towards the princess, but kept his stride toward his squad. Everyone was accounted for... except the Rookie. Joe turned to face the princess, not knowing if all the windows being shattered was due to the flyover, or the nuke (he would put his money on the latter). The grizzled sergeant stood at attention infront of the royal princess. No number of battles could ever prepare a man of any degree of veterancy, for review by the admiralty, or in this case, the princesses. Joe rarely used nukes due to the inevitable admiralty review and the ensuing logistical paperwork, but he would have to cover for the Rookie one last time. Joe's patience grew thin (which is very hard to do), and he started the conversation.

“I apologize for our actions in the defense of your people, or at least for acting without your orders. The Broadsword flyover was my idea, but the second blast was the Rookie's own independent action. He detonated a HAVOK-class nuclear device past the minimum safe distance from Canterlot, in order to liberate the city from its invaders. I take full responsibility for the Rookie's actions, as he is now to be assumed KIA until further investigations yield otherwise,” Joe said, no noticeable falter in his voice. If he didn't have the polarization on his visor maxed, they would of seen the tears of remorse streaming down his face. The princess responded, “I understand that extraordinary times call for extraordinary action, but the amount of damage caused may have exceeded the amount of destruction that would have otherwise been caused.”

“We've built it before, and we'll build it again,” Joe responded.

“I could revoke my permission to grant the embassy that you are residing at currently,” Celestia countered.

“There was a great man from hundreds of years ago. That man said this: 'There are no great men. Just great challenges which ordinary men, out of necessity, are forced by circumstances to meet.' That man went on to win the Second World War alongside his brothers in arms. Though it bears no significance here, his name was Admiral William F. 'Bull' Halsey. I will stand fast to his claims, because they have held fast to the test of time. He said that prior to the conclusion of the war, which lasted three more years, and has been proven again and again in all following wars and domestic disputes. The Rookie is a great man, and he went to the point of no return. They say Marines never die, they just go to Hell and regroup, but we are the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. We are ODST. We jump, feet first, into Hell and have returned on all endeavors. If you banish or exile us, we will remember such an action when you ask for our help. Punish the grunts, and we'll punish you through the act of not acting. Take these words to heart,” Joe responded, his voice refortified.

“I am not here to spread ill will, but I came here to commend you and your squad for responding to the call of duty, even if it was intended for somepony else. We may not be standing here if it were not for your intrepid actions,” the princess told Joe.

“I still intend to stand by my prior claims; we will treat you better than you treat us. Also, thank you, but our actions were not intrepid. They were courageous. Intrepidity, bravery, and fearlessness are all demonstrated in actions that are done with the lack of fear, but courage may be the same action, only it is done in spite of your fears. If someone tells you they aren't afraid to die, they're lying. Everypony is afraid of death. Though the line of courage is drawn at the point of being okay with dying. The Rookie and I knew that our own well-being was secondary to that of the ponies in Canterlot. If their safety meant us dying, we were okay with it, as long as their safety was insured. There is no way to control life and death in war. That is controlled by luck,” Joe responded with sincerity.

“We already have crews rebuilding, but I would like for you to find the Rookie. I would like to thank him personally,” Celestia responded, unknowingly.

“Celestia, a HAVOK nuke produces temperatures 50 times greater than the sun. Seeing the destroyed Broadsword, I knew he had to detonate it manually. If he was there, he would have been vaporized in the blast. This has happened before in our history. It is... tough to deal with, because you don't even have a body to bury. The heroes would live on in memory alone, maybe a memorial would be erected in their honor, but either way, they are gone. There is nothing you can do to bring them back,” Joe informed.

A loud boom could be heard overhead. Everyone looked up, and saw a lone SOEIV drop-pod descending. The pod crashed next to the group, who were awe struck at its occupant. The Rookie stepped out, “Did you miss me?”

Chapter 7: Third Act Twist

“Captain Bill, we have a visual on the VIP” a naval observer said.

“Good, is he doing well?” Capt. Bill said.

“Sir, it seems he lost his right arm,” the observer responded.

“If I know Joe, it's nothing but a blow to his ego,” the Captain responded coolly.

Joe approached at a light jog, longing for a replacement arm. As he entered the harbor, he saw the massive Iowa-class warship waiting, guns poised in a non-alarming manner. Joe tapped the side of his helmet twice then shook his head, signaling a bad mic. “Send a landing craft to get him,” the Captain ordered in response. Joe waited, seeing the hovercraft approach. It was not traveling at its top speed, which eased Joe. He knew that the Victory had her finger on the trigger for a while, which might have evoked a new war. Once the craft hit the sand, amidst the beach-goers, it dropped its ramp. A lone ensign waited for Joe. “Taking me back already, or did you just miss me?” Joe joked.

“The higher-ups just wanted someone to put on the chopping block,” the ensign joked as well.

“Come on Green, let's go home,” Joe said as he boarded.

Once the reunited squadmates landed on board the Tempest, a cheery Captain greeted Joe with a smile on his face. “Good to see you! I started thinking this might have turned into another Scorpii Event,” Captain Bill responded.

“Billiam, you know that was a long time ago,” Joe replied.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that a long time ago as well,” Capt. Bill responded in a joking manner.

“Let's go back up and see what the Victory can tell us about getting home,” Joe responded.

The ship's intercom buzzed to life, “This is Capt. Evans, we do not possess what we need to return home. It looks like we're staying here for a while, get comfortable. Our engines will be operational in three more days, but we will still need to find a way back before we can set out for the homefront. If you have any information that could assist in this matter, report to the bridge of the Victory. Your help is very much appreciated. Dismissed.”

“Guess we will have time for that airshow. Will the Golden Knights be ready, I know the Blue Angels are,” Joe said, turning to Bill.

“I've been training them thoroughly, and they have never failed to please. They're ready,” the old captain said to his long-time friend.

“Great! You can consider us even after what happened on Reach, okay?” Joe responded, leveling the debt the Captain owed him.

“You know I would've said yes to this even if I didn't owe you any,” the captain responded.

“Yeah, but frankly, I would've owed you one if you kept track of the favors,” Joe responded in a cheerful manner.

“You counted Madrigal? I thought that we settled that five years ago, back on Installation 03,” Bill replied.

“Oh, right. Guess I forgot about taking that annoying monitor off your hands,” Joe joked.

“Hey, Lieutenant! Report that the VIP is secure and en route to the Victory,” Bill ordered to a nearby liaison officer, who promptly left.

“Capt. Evans, the Tempest reports a mission success. The sergeant is secure and en route via Shortsword,” the communications officer said to the not-present Captain.

“Excellent! Have him sent up here as soon as he is ready,” Evans ordered.

“Yessir!” the officer responded.

After landing, Joe muttered to himself, “It never gets any easier to fly one-handed...” Joe opened the releases for the cockpit and stepped out. As soon as his feet hit the titanium deck, Joe started walking towards the barracks. Once there, he went to his cot, and pulled the personal effects box out from underneath it. Inside, Joe found his old and tattered dress uniform, a “dress” M1911, his family sword, a picture of the squad in a “Gung-ho” pose, and finally, a spare arm. Joe withdrew the arm, closing the box of nostalgia and sliding it back underneath the cot. Joe reattached the arm to his shoulder. It took a little while, but his arm reconfigured to Joe's previous settings. A runner entered the barracks, “Sir, the Captain wants you on the bridge as soon as you're ready.”

To this, Joe responded, “Tell Evans I'll be right there. Also, send word to engineering that I need another spare arm, and will be there for fitting after I'm done on the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” the runner left.

“Maybe I should have Rarity take a look at that old dress uniform, she might be able to bring it back to its prime,” Joe muttered to himself. Joe proceeded to grab another set of armor, to conceal his prosthetic. Once everything was settled, Joe started to leave the barracks, only to have his squad enter through the same door. “Kraut, Pizza, Green, Moose, Bookworm, Snafu, Rookie! Am I glad to see you! I was just headed to see the Captain, probably just a mission debrief. How has life been treating you?” Joe said.

“Aside from landing headfirst on the drop, pretty well,” the Rookie responded, “The Captain wanted my full report due to the use of fissile materials on the last op, and he will likely want your report as well, seeing as you lost a perfectly good Broadsword.”

“He is not in the kindest mood, be careful what you tell him,” Moose warned.

“He wanted to know why I was shooting instead of patching, but I still believe I had bigger problems on the ground,” Bookworm said.

“It took my neural implant to make him believe I was pulling my own weight,” Pizza said.

“Seeing as I was still armed, it seems to make sense that he didn't question my use of the bursting rounds,” Snafu said, still toting his rocket launcher.

“He wanted my report first, with the rest of the squad, save Rookie, watching as well. He seemed to rather enjoy the part where we charged into the city, just after your flyover,” Kraut responded.

“He is still giving me crap over my name,” Green said.

“So I should definitely watch where I leap?” Joe asked. The squad simply nodded their heads in response. “Talk to you later, I gotta run,” Joe concluded.

“See you later,” the squad replied, then departed.

Joe marched into the bridge, with a disgruntled and annoyed Captain waiting for him. “Sir, you called for me?” Joe asked.

“Yes. Get your squad ready. The report the Rookie gave me, and the footage Kraut displayed, shows that the... enemy has a base of some kind to the far Southwest of our embassy. I'm sending you down to capture a few of those insectoid freaks and bring them back here for interrogation,” Captain Evans informed.

“Sir, that would violate the parameters for which our embassy may be maintained. The same parameters allowed me to escape after I was capture for breaking such regulations. If you want the mission done, we will need to suffer casualties before we can launch an offensive,” Joe countered.

“Fair enough. Get the enemy to attack, then don't relent. We need to know why we're here, and they may know more than we do. Also, all remaining historic aircraft and weapons have been moved groundside. All ODST squads are going groundside via Pelican transport. All other aircraft and equipment will remain here,” Evans responded.

“Sir,” Joe said as he turned to leave.

Once outside the bridge, Joe found his squad waiting there. “We heard everything,” Pizza remarked.

“Sounds like something big is about to happen,” Moose said.

“That's a bridge we'll cross when we reach it. Let's get ready,” Joe said.

“Beat you to the punch there, sir,” Kraut said as he handed Joe his M16A10.

The squad arrived in the hangar bay, the Pelicans were fueled and ready for hot drops. The ODSTs loaded up the robust birds with as many munitions as it could carry. The pilot, Murphy, said, “Easy, we can't carry much more.” Once the green light for the drop burned bright, Murphy told the crews, “Kick the door,” and the bird dropped like a stone. Joe walked into the cockpit of the dropship, and saw dozens of other Pelicans descending groundside as well. The clouds of the upper atmosphere were approaching rather quickly. He saw the characteristic red burn near the nose of one of the Pelicans, which marked an atmospheric entry. Joe moved toward the back, and told his squad, “Alright, prep for landing. The LZ is our embassy down there. Remember, this is a capture mission, suppressed weapons only.” Joe fitted a silencer onto his rifle, and sat down with the rest of the squad.

A surge of Gs rudely informed the team that they were pulling out of the bullet dive. When the squad was pulled toward the front of the aircraft, they knew they had landed. Joe stepped out as the back door was lowering. He was stunned at what lay before him. The embassy, or what was left of it, was a burning pile of rubble. The Rookie said, “Did Celestia do this?”

Joe responded, “Let's try to find out what happened.” Joe walked forward, and found some sickly-green semi-acidic liquid amongst some of the wreckage. There was also several characteristic scratches on the rubble. “Rookie, I think this was the Changeling's responsibility. Where are the guards we had stationed here?” Joe said.

“I don't know, they should have greeted us when we stepped off of the Pelicans,” the Rookie responded.

“There are also some signs of a Timber Wolf attack here,” Joe informed.

“I'll go and talk to Zecora, maybe she knows what happened here,” the Rookie departed.

“Men, this may very well have turned into a rescue op. When we're in their hive, keep an eye out for any Marines. They may have been captured,” Joe told his squad, minus the Rookie.

Joe took a small group of Moose, Pizza, and Bookworm out on a patrol. “Moose, Pizza, Bookworm. We are going to need a few Changeling POWs for the interrogation. Bookworm, try to keep them healthy, but if we encounter any Marines, the Marines take priority. Moose, you need to carry the buggers out. Pizza, you'll go in for the grab, remember to choke them out. I'll be playing overwatch for you,” Joe divided the duties amongst the patrol.

Pizza took point, and the others followed. They entered the grotesque and slimy caves that were embedded in the mountains. Joe took note of the distance and direction to the embassy; 1500 meters to the West. “Night vision,” Joe whispered, and the squad switched optics. The four entered a large chamber deep within the mountain. Inside they saw hundreds of Changelings on the walls. “Camo,” Joe whispered, and the squad vanished. Watching eachother's footprints, the squad progressed further, looking for easy targets.

“Hold,” Pizza ordered, the squad stopped, “Do you hear that?”

“Sounds like a low rumble. Must be something big,” Bookworm whispered.

“Remember the mission. We need to keep moving,” Moose interjected.

As they progressed further, a definitive clopping sound could be heard nearby. Pizza poised himself just around the corner from the ever-nearing sound, getting ready to pounce. He pulled back just as he saw what the sound was. It was a patrolling Timber Wolf. The sentry passed unscathed. “What are they doing here?” Pizza said at a low whisper, just as the wooden enemy left audible range.

“Seeing how the Changelings are smarter than we thought, maybe they tamed the Timber Wolves?” Joe said.

“Let's hope not,” Moose countered.

The squad moved further through the winding paths, the rumble getting louder and the earth started shaking as they approached. The squad entered another chamber. Inside, they saw glistening gems and precious metals of all varieties. Atop this bountiful mound of greed, lay a red dragon. “This will make for an interesting report,” Moose said. The squad moved further, still on the search for Changelings with their guard down. Almost in the center of the mountain, the squad entered the last chamber. What was within shocked Joe. Queen Chrysalis was at her throne. “I thought the Rookie vaporized her with the HAVOK. This is something big,” Joe said.

Chrysalis ordered one of the Changelings off, and they were headed straight for the cloaked squad. Pizza, in position, pounced the Changeling as soon as he rounded the next corner. Moose carried the limp hostage out of the tunnel, as the other three stayed.

“Follow me,” said Bookworm, taking point. The squad followed, though with some hesitation. “I think I saw something. Possibly nothing, it looked like a shadow moving across shadows. It's hard to describe, but my stomach turned over when I saw this,” Bookworm informed Joe and Pizza.

The squad followed Bookworm, who in turn followed the shadow among shadows. The trio entered a side passageway, and Bookworm started running. A point of light appeared toward the end of the tunnel, and the squad's night vision automatically switched off. They approached the light, only for it to vanish with a rusty screech and a metallic slam. Under the hatch, Pizza lifted it open a crack. Joe looked through as well. What they saw arose more questions than answers. The fascist king himself, Sombra, was standing before a conference. The board was not just of ponies, but of ponies, griffons, dragons, changelings, etc.

Just behind the conference board, Joe spotted some Marines. “Those guys are from Spear outfit,” Pizza informed.

“The same boys who were guarding the embassy...” Joe muttered.

“Those Marines are banged up pretty bad, but those chains seem rather brittle,” Bookworm analyzed.

An inspired Joe removed the laser sight on his rifle, and turned it on. He pointed it at one of the Marines, who clearly saw the blue light. Joe uncloaked, and started signing commands to the Marine. Joe clasped a hand around his wrist, then made a chopping motion. He held up five fingers, and pulsed them thrice. He then held up both fist and blew them outward. He then pointed up at the hatch. Joe then held up two fingers, and then placed both hands over his eyes to mimic binoculars. He then covered both eyes with one flat hand. Joe then made an “O” with both hands, followed by a similarly made “D”. Joe then pulsed his laser light at the Marines face again, then Joe nodded. The Marine nodded back.

“What did you tell him?” Pizza asked.

“I told him to break his restraints in fifteen minutes, when this hatch is blasted apart. I'll leave two pairs of night vision goggles, because it is very dark in here. The Marines will need to follow the OD green chemical lights we leave behind,” Joe said, placing some C-12 on the underside of the hatch.

“Let's get out of here,” Bookworm said.

The trio started running, throwing down green lights every few feet, and at every corner. Pretty soon, the three found themselves outside. Moose was sitting on three Changelings. “A couple of them tried to jump me on my way out. Looks like we've got some more POWs,” Moose said.

“Get Force Recon on the line, we need a three fast getaway vehicles here in fifteen minutes,” Joe ordered. Moose quickly forwarded the response. As soon as the Mongooses arrived, an explosion could be heard. Shortly later, three Marines, stripped down to their skivvies, emerged from the imprisoning mountain.

“Hop on!” Joe yelled. The overloaded Mongooses charged through the Everfree, each carrying three passengers, save one carrying a fourth. The Force Recon scouts had driven them there via remote. The battered Marines were still bleeding profusely.

“Charlie company, this is Rescue patrol. We are in bound and have casualties. I repeat; we have casualties. Prepare the medical facilities for three. Get a Huey prepped for flight, and tell Force Recon thanks for the 'Gooses,” Joe ordered.

The three Mongooses streaked through the forest. The explosion caused enough chaos to draw the enemy toward themselves rather than the escapees. The 'Gooses charged toward the embassy, and ground to a halt infront of the medical tent. The medics carried off the wounded guardsmen as soon as they arrived. “All MIA Marines accounted for,” Joe said, “Now where's that Huey!”

A private pointed him toward the helicopter, which had it's blades running already. Joe grabbed the three unconscious Changelings, and told Moose, “Get three chairs, some rope, and three bungee cords. You'll be the good cop, I'll be the bad cop.”

Later, in flight, Joe set the helicopter to hover at 300 meters in the air. The Changelings awoke, only to find themselves tied to the folding chairs, with their wings also tied down. They couldn't see the bungee cord attached to their chairs, it was attached to the back legs. Joe walked in to greet the POWs. “We have a game we'd like to play, it's called 'Who Talks First'. It's simple really, whoever talks first doesn't have this happen to them,” Joe sad, rather sadistically, as he kicked one of the Changelings out of the helicopter. “Ooh, we rarely get to see that kind of a splatter this high up, brains everywhere! Or, would you two rather play 'Bleeder, Bleeder on the Floor'? Mr. Slicy has been very thirsty recently,” Joe said as he drew a meat cleaver out from behind his back.

The Changelings started yelling, “NO!!!”

“No? Alright, who's gonna talk: you, or you,” Joe replied, tilting each chair forward as he designated its occupant.

The Changelings started cowering in fear, quivering each time Joe took a step. The pulse of sound from the metal-to-metal pace striking them at their hearts. Just then, Moose stepped in from the cockpit.

“What the hay are you doing?! We can't just kill these guys, they are POWs! Get back to your seat, you're way out of line!” Moose yelled at Joe.

The two helmeted figures passed one another, and a look of relief swept across the Changeling POWs. Moose stepped toward the POWs. “I can't let you go until we have somepony to put the blame on. My friend won't have it. We found possible evidence hinting at a Timber Wolf attack on our embassy, but we know that they couldn't have been alone. The men we left there were some of the toughest we have. I need you to tell us everything, otherwise my friend will have to take his frustration out on the next best thing,” Moose said in a soothing and relaxing tone. Just like that, the Changelings spilled the beans.

Groundside, the rest of the squad help unload the POWs as soon as they landed. “You'll get three hot meals a day, showers every other, and plenty of time to sit down and think,” Green said as they pulled the Changelings out of the helicopter. Rainbow Dash appeared, carrying the third Changeling. “What, you thought we'd actually hurt you? I can tell you right now that we will never physically hurt any prisoners. Psychologically, though, is a different story. I would say that your comrades won't take too kindly to you telling us everything about their plans, so if you do escape, where will you go?” Green added.

The three Changelings adopted looks of disappointment at this remark. The Rookie returned, seeing the Changelings being carried away. “I guess that you used 'Who Talks First?' on them, judging from the bungee cords. Anyway, I talked with Zecora, and she told me that it was a coalition that attacked the embassy. That hostile coalition consists of at least: dragons, Timber Wolves, and Changelings. There may be more,” The Rookie commented.

“That confirms what the interrogation yielded. We also saw Sombra, and some defector ponies and griffons while we snatched the Changelings. We also spotted Chrysalis. How do you think she survived the blast?” Joe informed.

“Possibly the same way I survived, teleportation. She probably used some teleportation magic just after I teleported, but before the HAVOK went off,” the Rookie answered.

“Alright, mission complete. Let's head back up to the-” A massive explosion high above interrupted Joe. “-Victory...”

The descending fireball bore the silhouette of the decorated battleship. “Victory, do you read me!” Kraut yelled into his mic. “Victory, please respond!”

A garbled response came, “This is... Evans... Victory... hostiles on board... the moon... life pods... attacked... Evans... signing off... for the last time.” The fireball met the horizon. The transmission went dark. The Victory has been defeated.

Chapter 8: Plan B

Much later, Joe and all of the remaining ODSTs marched into Canterlot. The princesses, Luna and Celestia, greeted the entourage. “Hello, why are all of you here?” Luna asked.

“Our ship, the Victory, is lost with all hands. A hostile coalition attacked. That enemy force consisted of several opponents that you have fought prior. With the loss of 2324 lives, war has been declared to avenge the fallen. The time for politics is over. Are you with us?” Joe challenged.

“Of course not! We must adhere to the international laws of this world!” Luna replied, royal Canterlot voice in tow.

“From what we've heard, the enemy has acquired the ability to operate exoatmospherically. The only viable staging area, Luna, is the moon. This hostile coalition was found to be between several dragons, defector griffons, defector ponies, Sombra, the Changelings, Queen Chrysalis, and the list goes on. Discord has failed to report in on the subject, against my urgent requests. The few munitions and men we have may not be enough to repel such a coalition on their own. We ask again for your help. We have also intercepted enemy messages hinting at an assault on Equestria. If we don't act now, all may be lost. Will you help us?” Joe pressed forward.

“Sombra, Chrysalis, and Dragons? If they do attack, we will not be able to defend Equestria, nor its ponies. What do you need?” Celestia responded, partly thinking out loud.

Joe laid out the battle plans. “We will need everything and everyone on this counterattack,” Joe said, “Here's the plan. Luna and Celestia will force a full solar eclipse over the Everfree Forest. From there, the pegasi, equipped with modified battle armor, will head skyward. Once they're airborne and in space, the second wave will launch. The unicorns will be flying the Pelican dropships. The earth ponies will be within, and both them and the unicorns will be armored similarly to the pegasi. The pegasi will clear the way for the dropships to make safe landings on the lunar surface. Then, the ODSTs will lead the assault on the hostile base we've pinpointed. Once we push the enemy back to their base, we will launch the Saturn V rocket, which will be armed with our last HAVOK nuke. That should end the war by next week.”

“This hostile coalition still sounds awfully familiar to me...,” Luna said.

“We checked the Forerunner logs, and they said that 'all the good of one universe will be judged by that of another'. We thought it was referring to the Human-Covenant War, but apparently we were mistaken. We lost 23,000,000,000 in that conflict, as well as dozens of planets. All because of cultural convergence and a misunderstanding. Due to how diverse both of our cultures were, we considered them to be what was referenced by the mention of 'universe' in that text. Seeing how the war was already over then, we just ignored this information. Now it is far too late for that prophecy to hold any significance to us. We need to act now. We won the Human-Covenant War largely due to a truce we brokered with an alien race. They proved to be invaluable. Now I am asking you to broker a similar truce with an even more alien race. Will we see you on the battlefield, fighting under the same banner?” Joe proposed.

“Out of necessity, yes. We cannot let them win,” Celestia said.

Twilight walked in, seemingly having overheard the part of the Forerunner prophecy. She carried with her Starswirl's journal. “I thought I heard something like that before. That prophecy is actually stated, almost word for word, in Starswirl's journal,” Twilight informed.

“Maybe that's why we're here, to win this war. Forerunner technology often works in impossible ways. We still have no way home though,” the Rookie said.

“We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but for now we need to plan this out. Celestia, we will need field hospitals for the wounded. Luna, we need you to make some maps of the entire surface of the moon. Twilight, you're our plan B: if the HAVOK fails to detonate, we will need you to use the Elements of Harmony. We will need to send word to Cadence telling her to stay in the hospitals, morale is half the battle when it comes down to surviving injuries. Twilight and her friends will be on the second wave. Luna, Celestia, you two are on the first wave. Once the battle starts, you must end the eclipse, and place the sun at our backs. Once all forces have landed, we will need there to be a lunar eclipse. To do that, Luna, you must place the moon in the shadow of the planet. We still don't know what the enemy has in terms of supplies, so we will assume the worst: a NOVA bomb. One NOVA can destroy an entire planet. We will be using the Tempest as a mobile base during the operation. They may have orbital guns. Once we get Luna's map, we will start searching for fissile materials via the Tempest's long-range scanners. Any questions?” Joe concluded the operation outline.

“What will we do about any orbital guns we find?” Moose asked.

“We have Advanced Reactive Combatant teams on standby for such an occasion. The ARC troopers will be deployed via Pelican on the first wave. Their objective: cause havoc for the enemy. Rookie, you'll be leading them. Remember: stay off the radios until absolutely necessary. Celestia, Luna, you should send word to the other nations around hear about the battle that is to come. We may not be able to survive this alone-” Joe ordered, as some small arms fire interrupted him.

Joe brought down his visor and ran out of the castle. Outside, dragons were seen strafing the ODSTs below. Joe shouldered his M16A10 and opened up on the scaly beasts above. The invaders quickly retreated under the combined fire of the ODSTs below. “Celestia, we need to launch as soon as all forces are ready. The quartermaster has been refitting our remaining combat armor for pony use. We'll divide our forces into two groups: the Lunar Coalition, and the Equestrian Coalition. The Equestrian Coalition (EQC) is to repel all hostile ground forces. The Tempest will be part of this group. The Lunar Coalition will lead the orbital assault of the moon. We need to move as soon as possible, the enemy may have been listening in on our conference. We will refer to these hostiles as The Oppressors. Is that understood?” Joe informed the groups about the impromptu changes. They all nodded.

Chapter 9: Blitzkrieg

“All pegasi, are you ready?” Joe called out.

“Ready!” came the massive and enthusiastic response.

“ARC troopers, are you ready?” Joe echoed.

“Yes, sir,” came the Rookie's response.

“Unicorns, ready?”

“All set for takeoff,” came the response.

“Marine teams, ready?”

“Mean and green,” Moose responded.

“EQC, we're ready,” Joe radioed to the other coalition.

“Send the first wave in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!” came the response.

The pegasi launched off of the ground, clad in the matte black armor of the 105th ODST. The Rookie's Pelican also took off with them. The pilot had the blast shield as well as the polarization maxed on her helmet and windscreen. The first wave assault teams approached the eclipse. “Changelings! To the front!” a panicked pegasus radioed. Streaks of the infamous, sickly-green bolts started appearing.

“Evasive action!” Spitfire's distinct voice broke across the radio, “ARC troopers, deploy,” the new Commander concluded. The pilot broke to the left then made a slight reversal, and continued on an elliptical path to the illuminated side of the moon. The sounds of war echoed across the team's radios. The Rookie reached down and shut off the comm link. Still looking over the pilot's shoulder, the Rookie saw their destination: an Oppressor supply dump. He pointed at the munitions, and the pilot turned the Pelican to drop the team near the position. When the Pelican landed, the team jumped out the back door of the dropship, and ran for some of the nearby craters. The pilot turned the Pelican around, bringing its rocket pods to bear, but the Oppressors brought their own. A quick exchange of rockets, and the pilot had to briefly break contact to dodge the incoming projectiles.

The Rookie held up one finger, then made a definitive slash down with an open hand, fingers pressed together. The sniper of the team, a fellow named Tennessee Kid, ran up and planted his rifle's bipod on the edge of the crater. The Kid aimed at the residual back blast of the rockets, waiting for the smoke to clear. He saw several silhouettes, but only one seemed to possess a weapon large enough to contest the skies. He took aim where he saw the hostile reach, and fired. The bullet accelerated through the barrel, a fireball speedily pursuing it. The shot did not ring, there was no medium for the sound. It speed through the open space, and when it impacted, with clear visual sparks, the explosive warhead in the massive round detonated. The secondary explosion that the ARC troopers saw was evident of the round hitting an ammo supply, most likely more rockets.

The Rookie clicked his radio on then off, signaling the pilot to move in with the guns of the bird. Fast and low, the Pelican charged through the lunar daylight. The black paint across its hull and fuselage contrasting to the bare titanium around the cockpit and wings, and the shark-like nose paint toward the front. The pilot ripple fired, unleashing twelve rockets on the supply dump. The secondary blasts destroyed what was left of the enemy base. The pilot stomped on the right rudder control (or in this case, thruster control), kicking the tail of the aircraft in a perfect 180 degree arc. Once she overcame the Gs, she gunned the bird forward. Receiving no ground fire, she set the dropship down next to the squad. The Rookie updated the mission kill list: Scratch one ammo dump.

With the squad aboard, the pilot continued the ARC trooper's advance. The Rookie brought up the map of the moon Luna gave them. They were far from their objective, the Oppressor base was 100 kilometers away. Ignoring the secondary targets, the Rookie tapped the ODST pilot on the shoulder, and she fire-walled the throttle. The Rookie, referencing his map, found that they were much closer now, 50 kilometers. An explosion rocked the Pelican. The back door was blasted open, and the bird started spinning out of control. The Rookie glanced outside, and saw they also had lost a wing. Running out of the cockpit, the Rookie jumped out of the back, as did the rest of the ARC troopers. The pilot couldn't undo her harness, and the Pelican crashed with her inside. In the low gravity, the team landed without harm, but the Rookie remembered something: “Never leave a man behind. No one deserves to die alone.” His drill instructor said that. The Rookie, shotgun in hand, charged out of the crater he landed in, and the squad followed his lead. They followed the smoke trails of the damaged Pelican. They crested over a hill, and saw a fierce battle being raged below. The pilot, visor cracked, armor scraped and twisted, was returning fire from the cockpit. She landed the Pelican backwards so as to force the enemy to show themselves prior to her capture. Dragons and Changelings alike were attacking this wrecked dropship, but only to be repelled by the lonesome pistol packing pilot.

The Rookie held up one finger, and then lowered the same hand , palm flat and horizontal, fingers loosely extended. Tennessee Kid planted his sniper rifle similar to before. The Rookie then held up three fingers, made an arching motion with the same hand, then placed said hand infront of his visor. The three ARC troopers toting to grenade launchers loaded WP (White Phosphorous; smoke rounds), and took aim. The Rookie then held up two last fingers, then pressed them together and pointed forward, pulsing the motion twice. The last two ARC troopers charged down the hill, the Rookie spearheading them.

The smoke rounds arched overhead, covering the enemy in thick, grey smoke. As the Rookie neared, Kid started firing on any target that aimed at the squad leader: first a Changeling, one shot; then a dragon, three shots; and finally another Changeling, last shot. The Kid reloaded.

The Rookie charged ahead, reaching the cockpit unscathed. The pilot took aim at the Rookie, then withdrew her pistol after recognizing the ARC leader. She climbed out of the wreckage, and the four ARC troopers ran back to the hill. The enemy charged after the withdrawing troopers. The Rookie jumped over the crest of the hill, and turned to the grenadiers. He held up a fist, then tilted the arm forward as he opened it. The grenadiers switched to HE rounds.

Seeing even the biggest dragons topple with one well-placed shot, the Changelings retreated. Realizing the lack of supporting infantry, the dragons, too, retreated. A tank without supporting infantry is a morgue on treads with a big stick to shake at passersby.

The pilot grabbed a second pistol from a nearby ARC trooper. Bringing the map up once more, the Rookie saw they were forty kilometers from the Oppressor base. The team pressed on.

After the long march toward the hostile base, they arrived at the perimeter. The pilot drew three strike beacons from her magazine pouches. The Rookie nodded to her, then turned to his squad. One of the grenadiers also carried a rocket launcher. Boomer, the demolitionist, was motioned at to come forth. The Rookie poised his hands as if he were carrying a rocket launcher, then pointed to one of the walls of the enemy structure. Boomer nodded, then took aim.

The Rookie held up three fingers to the squad, did a circling motion with the same hand, then pointed at the wall. Two grenadiers and a rifleman walked up and took some shaped charges from Boomer. The three ARC troopers then ran the 50 meters to the exterior wall, and placed the charges. The other ODSTs, including Boomer closed the distance similarly, though Boomer still kept some distance. The Rookie tapped his wrist twice with an index finger, then pointed toward himself with the thumb. A yellow light appeared on his HMD, under the “Charges” category. The Rookie extended his palm out, so that the whole squad could see. Five extended fingers gradually reduced to four, then three... two... one. A small, soft explosion opened a hole in the exterior wall, and the squad rushed in. Boomer let loose a rocket prior to the point man entering, then rejoined the squad. Rookie leading, the squad moved forward, into the heart of darkness.

The Rookie entered a building through a hole Boomer's rocket made. Once inside the apparent barracks, the pilot place the first of the three target designators.

Groundside, seeing the first target designator ready, Joe ordered all dropships to get ready.

The ARC troopers continued their approach. This time, they saw a headquarters building. The pilot placed the second designator on the structure, and the ODSTs departed. The third target... was the armory. Dragons and Changelings alike were traveling through constantly. A few defected griffons and ponies were seen as well. Behind concealing cover, the Rookie motioned his squad to gather. The Rookie drew a rough sketch of the armory on the ground, designating the guards. He motioned toward the pilot, placed a circle on the ground, drew a line for her to travel, then place an “X” where he wanted the designator. To the rest of the squad, he drew seven circles behind a line toward the front of the armory, with one large “X” over the compound. He drew an arrow toward the “X”, originating from the circles. He looked up, and nodded toward the pilot, then the squad. They did the same.

Laying out weapons and magazines, the squad got ready as the pilot snuck behind the enemy. Weapons and magazines at the ready, the squad patiently waited in the shadows. The Rookie sent out a green light to the pilot, who responded by sending back her own. Seeing the shadowy figure that was their pilot begin to infiltrate the armory, the Kid started firing on targets of opportunity. The squad followed suit with a mass of suppressing fire. The Kid quickly emptied one magazine. He pressed the magazine release, then lifted his rifle and dropped it on an adjacent magazine. He did this to avoid manually cycling the bolt, by keeping a round chambered. One of the riflemen started firing with a heavy machine gun, modified to be fired from the shoulder. The Rookie let loose with his shotgun, switching it the full-auto, and unleashing the power of flechette ammunition. Darts and bullets alike raced toward the surprised Oppressor coalition, only to be greeted with (literal) return fire from the surprised hostiles. The fight progressed, ungodly amounts of firepower being transferred in such a small time. The enemy tried to flank, but Boomer detonated some charges he left in an adjacent building, sealing the avenue. Hostile reinforcements joined the fray, approaching from behind the ARC troopers. The damaged skyline announced the intruders' presence. The grenadiers turned around, leaving the armory to the riflemen. 40mm grenades greeted the gang of approaching hostiles. One hostile took some shrapnel, but turned to flee despite the negligible injuries. The wounded griffon fled the battlefield, and seemed to be headed toward other hostile forces.

A green light appeared on the Rookie's HMD, just before a ricochet impacted his visor. The damaged helmet's HMD faded out. The retreating pilot gave a thumbs-up to the holed up squad, and rejoined them via the open left flank.

Shadowy, black smoke started approaching the squad from all sides. Sombra had responded. The Rookie pulsed his red light repeatedly, signaling the retreat. The squad loaded up, but was surrounded with no avenue of retreat. The shadows closed in. The Rookie, out of ammo, drew his last hope. Green flare in hand, he charged into the impending darkness, and his squad followed him. Lighting the flare as he set foot into the shadows, the Rookie ran forward. The darkness was so immense, he couldn't see anything outside of his visor, aside from the bright fare. The run seemed to last forever.

Planet-side, Joe saw the last designator appear. “All aircraft, launch! Launch! Launch! Those pegasi can't win the war on their own, they'll take all the credit,” Joe joked. The remaining dropships began their approach.

“Sir, we've modified the engines on that AC-130 we found. They're pulse-jets now, and should last in the vacuum of space,” an ensign reported to Joe.

“Great, I'll fly it. Get some STOVL rockets on that thing, as well as secondary rockets to get it into space,” Joe ordered.

“Already done, sir,” the ensign said, thinking ahead.

The ARC troopers charged through the shadows, two of them getting shot in the back and collapsing during the sprint. The remaining squad made it through, and found the entrance they utilized earlier. The Rookie grabbed the rifle from a nearby ARC trooper, turned, and suppressed the approaching hostiles. The Rookie motioned for the squad to rush through the exit. On his left wrist, the Rookie updated the team objectives on his datapad: Designate Targets; Complete, Mogadishu Mile; Developing. The evacuating pilot opened the specifics to the “Mogadishu Mile” objective, it read: First one in, last one out. Retreat to friendlier lines as the Rookie rescues all trapped ARC troopers. Do not turn back, this must be done alone.

The Rookie reversed his retreat, and the flare burned itself out. As the shadows engulfed him, the Rookie closed his eyes and literally retraced his steps. Hearing something large move ahead, the Rookie fired at it, through the deep darkness that ever engulfed him. A large thump he felt later confirmed the kill on the dragon. The shadowy mists that surrounded the black-clad soldier provided a newfound medium for sound to yet again become a factor of war. Overriding standard medical safety locks, the Rookie activated a unique chemical that was still in the prototype stage. Its affects were listed as “Spartan Time”. The auto-injectors on his suit quickly administered the drug that had never been field tested. Immediately, the Rookie felt his concealed pupils dilate. He felt every breath he took as though they had lengthened in duration. Remembering the rate at which the brass fell before, he fired at a buzzing sound he recently started hearing, and heard the brass land much later than expected. Starting a clock on his datapad, the Rookie began the trial again, with another unfortunate Changeling to test on. This time, however, the clock contradicted the Rookie's thoughts. It said the brass was falling normally. The Rookie started the clock again, this time he watched the timer. It seemed to be progressing at a third the normal rate. “Spartan Time...” he muttered.

He felt scraping on the ground nearby. He turned to look at what it was, and saw the fist of an ARC trooper, gradually closing and opening, signaling that he was still alive. The Rookie gave the soldier a shot of adrenaline and morphine, then picked him up. The soldier ran to the exit, which the Rookie had tagged on their HMDs prior. The soldier faded into the shadows as the distance increased.

The Rookie continued his push, this time he heard 40mm gunfire in the shadows. The last soldier was holed up at a choke point on what was the squad's left flank. He was holding two grenade launchers, firing them both simultaneously. Apparently the squad left their heavier firepower behind to make their escape faster. Once both of the grenade launchers emptied, the lone gunman kicked the HMG up to his level, tossed the launchers, and grabbed the airborne gun. The fifty caliber fire was too much for the defected hostiles, who promptly retreated. The dragons, Changelings, and Sombra, however, remained.

The Rookie shook himself out of the awe he was struck with, and laid down all of his grenades. He approached the persevering ARC trooper and pulled him down from the mound of twisted metal he was holding out on. The Rookie quickly traded weapons with the man, then shot the grenades he left on the ground. The massive explosion tore apart the ever present shadows and hostiles, clearing an avenue of retreat. The Rookie, however, took some shrapnel from the blast. He was hit in the throat, but his suits auto sealants closed the armor, and the auto-injectors provided the biofoam to stop the bleeding. The two ARC troopers ran forward, taking fire en route from all sides.

Using an unconventional tactic, the Rookie ran ahead of the other Arc trooper, turned around, and place the HMG on the other's shoulder. Stabilized, the Rookie began to fire the massive gun as the dangerous duo continued to retreat. With the shadows dissipated, the absence of sound was once more relevant. The ARC trooper looked at the Rookie, and nodded. The Rookie dismounted the gun, and returned the suppressing fire unto the enemy. The last man left behind retreated through the hole, and was shortly thereafter followed by the Rookie.

Hostiles pursuing, the Rookie dropped the HMG, and the ARC trooper followed suit with his rifle. They would need the enhanced speed, and the rifle ran dry of ammunition. Running from the hostiles, all seemed lost.

Joe eased back in the cockpit of the ancient gunship. He lit the STOVL rockets and was pressed back into the hardened steel of the seat. G load alleviated, Joe pitched almost into a complete vertical climb. “Launch the Saturn V, remote detonation on my personal detonator,” Joe ordered across the comm channels. Holding up the small black cylinder, Joe opened the cap with the flick of his thumb. The button inside was transparent, but was sharing the color of the rest of the switch. After a pause, the button started glowing red, signaling a device was linked to it. Joe closed the detonator switch, and placed it in a small pouch on his chest.

The copilot turned to the ODST. The unicorn asked, “What are we going to do if that gets blasted apart?”

“It won't. It was crafted from the mixed core produced after explosive welding (EXW) a piece of tungsten and titanium together. The finished product of that was then blasted together with a non-decaying isotope of Ununoctium. It is heavy, but not even directed energy weapons can pierce it. I once tested that myself with a M6G Galilean Non-Linear Rifle, which most people call the Spartan Laser. It is not that different than this one hear at my side, but the switch was unscathed by the plasma burst,” Joe elaborated.

“Given Newton's Cannon, that you explained earlier, we should be able to lend some help to the Equestrian Coalition. What do you say?” the unicorn proposed, seeing the altimeter.

Joe got on the long-range comm, “Western Front, this is Flying Pig, do you read me? Over.”

The response came, “This is Western Front, we read you Flying Pig, over.”

“Glad to hear from you. We've got a package we can ship to you pretty quickly. Just tell us where you want it, over.”

“We think Romeo could use it, but Juliet is already fairly spoiled.”

Joe pulled up a map. Target Romeo was just past the Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree, but the castle itself, Juliet, was most likely full of friendlies, as per the report. “Got it. Sign for delivery conformation upon reception, over.” Joe said, as he forwarded to danger close fire mission to the gunners. The aircraft shuttered ten times, indicating ten successful shots.

After a few minutes pause, “He loves it, Juliet is unscathed. Thanks for the help, Flying Pig. Western Front, out.”

Joe hit the switch for the second stage of rockets, and he fire-walled the throttle. Again, the G load pressed him against the seat. “Glad to see he took to the bad joke so quickly,” Joe commented, referring to the prior fire mission.

The gunship accelerated into space. Pulse jets burping out massive loads of energy that hurled the aircraft forward each time. Once the lurching stopped, Joe eased up on the throttle. Several more minutes passed, and the AC-130 met up with the dropships. “Glory Bird, where are you? there are seven squadrons out here, four flights apiece,” Joe asked across the secure channels.

“This is Glory Bird. We're at second squadron, flight number three, bird four.”

Joe maneuvered the gunship into the flight that Glory Bird was at, entering the number five spot. “Glory Bird, we'll give you close coverage until your occupants enter the battle. Feel free to use us as a meat shield, we don't have a means to bring this thing back to the planet,” Joe told Glory Bird.

“Acknowledged. Are we the only bird here transporting pegasi and an alicorn?”

“Affirmative. Their delivery is paramount to this mission. Luna herself had to stay back to reposition the moon appropriately. That reminds me: lunar eclipse in five minutes. All other pegasi were deployed to clear the path we're on now. First squadron just landed, get ready for the landing,” Joe said as they approached.

The same sickly-green projectiles greeted the Pelicans as they neared the surface. Once seventh squadron landed, the surface of the moon immediately turned a bright red. “All Pelicans, offload supplies, then convert to target designation for support of ground forces. All remaining pegasi, make a landing to support the reinforcements, and refrain from flight from now on, it'll make you an easy target,” Joe broadcast to the fliers.

The gunship entered a level flight via its maneuvering thrusters. “Gunners, if it shoots green, breathes fire, or attacks our boys down below, shoot back,” Joe broadcast to the gunners via the crew comms.

The Rookie activated his emergency transponder, and continued his run from death. Both ARC troopers were down to their sidearms. The Rookie turned to the other ARC trooper. He did a two-finger point back towards the enemy, and pulsed the action twice. The trooper turned around and started suppressing the enemy, the Rookie tossed him his own pistol. The Rookie hit the emergency detach switch on his armor, shedding the hardened plates. Some of which were on fire, others coated in a sickly green acid. Only the helmet and endo-suit remained. The endo-suit consisted of the hydrostatic gel layer, the auto-injectors, and not much else. The gel layer is what provides the protection from the vacuum of space. The Rookie searched amongst the plates, and found the back panel. He pulled the power supply from the panel: a micro nuclear fusion reactor. Original pioneered on older MJOLNIR armor variants, recently, micro nuclear fusion reactors were imported onto ODST armor systems. The Rookie feverishly sorted through the reactor's wires. He finally found what he was looking for; the overload controls. He hit the switch, which in turn started counting down from ten.

The Rookie picked up the power supply, and hurled it at the oncoming Oppressors, similar to how the SWAT teams of the old would breach a door. The chrome cylinder toppled end over end through the low gravity. It impacted a low-flying Changeling, then immediately detonated, vaporizing anything within ten meters, and severely burning anything else within 60 meters. The two ARC troopers resumed their form of the Mogadishu Mile.

The two troopers finally found the rest of their squad. The Rookie looked toward the horizon, and saw an armada of Pelicans offloading their supplies. The Rookie took point and approached the nearest Pelican. His search for spare armor plating was null; the remaining armor was converted for pony use. The Rookie looked up and saw other squadrons landing. He saw an AC-130 gunship on approach too. He promptly grabbed a nearby RIO from one of the Pelicans. Taking control of the RIO's radio, the Rookie patched a line through to the loitering gunship, via laser comms.

“ARC Leader to Commander in Chief of Lunar Operations. Operation Space Race is accomplished, zero squad casualties, Pelican gunship lost in action; no injuries sustained. Requesting operational reassignment to additional combat roles,” The Rookie spoke for the first time on the moon.

“Good job Rookie. Your squad is reassigned as a renegade team; move amongst our lines causing havoc for our enemy. Your callsign is now changed to Renegade. Warhammer out,” Joe replied.

“Rearm as necessary, you'll need it,” the Rookie said to Renegade squad, “We are now known as Renegade squad, and we will be acting as our namesake role suggests.”

“Understood, sir,” Boomer said.

“Wounded stay here. Pilot, see if you can get a bird and support the boys who truly need it,” The Rookie ordered to Renegade.

“Sir, how did you know that the Commander in Chief was on that gunship?” the private the Rookie ran with said.

“We had to use one Mars for the defense of Olympus Mons a couple years back. He knew that thing like the back of his hand. Good thing too, he fragged a ton of Scorpion Main Battle Tanks (MBT) with that thing's Howitzer. I still don't know how the insurrectionists managed to stockpile so many supplies so shortly after the Human-Covenant War. I guess the same, sort of, holds up here. A massive amount of enemies that are better equipped than us attack, and we only have ancient hand-me-downs from the twenty-first century to lead the defense. Except now, it's more than just my squad leading the defense,” the Rookie dwelled on the nostalgic war on the martian front.

The squad, this time, rearmed with up-to-date weapons. Boomer ditched his M-72 Light Anti-armor Weapon for a twin-tubed SPNKR rocket launcher. The Rookie passed up the rockets, and ventured for a MA5C and a Rail Gun, due the perfect combination of anti-armor capability and “Battle Endurance”. Battle Endurance is how long a weapon and its user can last in long durations of various forms of combat without resupply. These forms of combat may include long-range, mid-range, short-range, and unique-scenarios. The Rookie reminded his team of this, “We probably won't be resupplied until we come back here, so make sure you take a unit of fire with you, as well as something that has good Battle Endurance for you.”

Most of the squad grabbed otherwise weak weapons; the aforementioned assault rifles, SMGs, a couple LMGs, and some SAWs. Boomer kept his launcher, though. Renegade charged to where they saw several flashes in the distance, which was where most of the Pelicans were headed once they were empty, as well as the gunship.

Renegade soon found themselves in a nondescript foxhole on the front lines, But Joe had others to worry about. “Mendeleev Squad, due copy? This is Warhammer,” Joe broadcast to the ground squads.

“This is Mendeleev Squad, we read you, Warhammer,” Twilight responded.

“Are all of your squad accounted for?” Joe inquired.

“Yes; Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and myself are all groundside.”

“Are the Elements intact? If so, equip them when I tell you to. It is bound to attract hostile fire.”

“Understood, they're here and in one piece.”

“Stay at the supply dumps and aid the munition-runners until I call upon you.”

“Okay, but I think RD is going to have some trouble with that.”

“Patch her through”

“I don't like being told to not do anything, it's boring and totally not awesome,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Listen to me. You'll have your chance to shine, but not now. We lose our plan B if the elements are inoperable. The supplies you'll help distribute will aid the battle as much as any number of additional guns will. Do your part, it's a lot to ask of you, but it must be done. Wait, and the world may yet again be at peace. If you leave for the front, supplies won't be transferred as necessary. Those supplies include bullets. Your neglect of orders may have prevented a soldier from taking the shot that very well could have saved a Wonderbolt. Stay where you are until I say I need you. If everything goes right, I won't have to send that call, but it is just as likely to go wrong. Do you understand?”

“Yes... I understand,” a saddened Rainbow Dash replied.

“It was a tough thing to say, but it had to be said,” Joe concluded, closing the comm line as he piloted the gunship toward the front.

“Seems that you know a thing or two about repercussions in a war,” the copilot said.

“This isn't my first war. Counting the Rebellion of the 2520s, the Covenant, Requiem, and the Martian Insurrection, this is the fifth war I have fought in,” Joe justified.

“Wow, you've been through a lot.”

“Several have been through much more, and much worse. Death constantly alludes me, I don't know why. I lost my arm against the Covenant, that was as close as I have ever come to dying. I find closure in believing that I am needed for something much greater than my death, or the rescue of thousands. This may be it, but I thought the same on Mars. Truth is though, I don't know. I have accepted that, but every time I survive something, it begins to hint at my prior questions being true, though there is no way for me to prove them,” Joe conveyed his heavier thoughts.

“Maybe it's just because you're lucky?”

“...Or the opposite, no one should have endured as much as I have. One war is plenty, two is pushing it, but five is almost inconceivable. I wouldn't believe that it was possible unless if I had gone through it myself.”

“Sounds harsh, I'm glad to know that you aren't afraid to share your... personal... private side?” the copilot responded, searching for the word to finish his sentence.

“'Personal' is good, but I would go with 'sentimental'; it fits a bit better,” Joe said, the language composition teacher in him shining through, leaving a feeling of nostalgia in the old sergeant.

“Let's... get back to the mission,” the copilot broke the awkward silence.

“Let's,” Joe agreed.

Chapter 11: Trident Liberation

Dirt-side, the Equestrian Coalition was on an armored march across the grassy planes that divided Canterlot from Ponyville. The buffalo had responded to Celestia's request for help, but were stuck moving supplies in Canterlot for other assault teams like this one.

“All Abrams, push the line. Deathstalkers, we have reports of hostiles making themselves known in the Everfree, investigate it. T-99s, stay on course,” Moose, this column's commander, said.

The Sheridan “Deathstalkers” broke to the right, the Abrams broke left, and the T-99s moved onward to liberate the besieged Ponyville.

“All tank crews, stay buttoned up. The dragons have been doing some strafing around here recently,” Moose advised the column.

Moose's T-99 charged ahead, spearheading the liberating assault of the town. Moose switched to the T-99s coaxial 12.7 mm MG. “Try to keep the damage to the town at a minimum,” Moose radioed to the other tanks.

The hostile defectors had dug-in at the town, and the T-99 Moose was in was greeted with anti-tank trenches.

Without warning, the T-99 slipped into the trench with no hope of escaping.

“We're stuck. Pop the hatch and get ready to hoof it,” Moose ordered to the rest of the tank crew in his T-99.

Rifle at the ready, the ODST cautiously left the immobile vehicle. He peeked over the edge of the trench, and a bolt of blue magic forced him to withdraw. Moose was a little too slow this time, and the blue slime hardened over his visor, blinding him. Stripping his helmet off, the angered goliath withdrew to the tank once more. He manned the periscope, and spotted the attacker. Moose grabbed the tank's radio, and broadcast on the air support channels, “Pilots local to objective X-ray, we are pinned in an AT trench to the north of town square. We would very much appreciate any help you can give us,” Moose requested.

“Unmanned AH-6 inbound, be there soon,” came the response.

The three tankers waited patiently in the trap, waiting for the drone to arrive. Rotors were heard, and the AH-6 appeared. The egg-shaped helicopter sped ahead, guns spinning up.

A hail of bullets pursued the retreating ambushers. “Position clear,” the drone pilot reported. An unfriendly rocket streaked through the sky, impacting against the small helicopter. In a horrendous explosion, the chopper started an uncontrolled descent. “Hostile anti-air located, Hellfire out,” the drone pilot spoke.

The missile streaked through the sky overhead, followed by its distant explosion. “Okay, let's move!” Moose said to his tankers. The trio charged out of the trench, and quickly entered a nearby building. Inside, they found a fully-occupied enemy command post.

The Changelings hastened for their guards, only to be cut down by Moose's M16A3. A few got through however, “Crap. Guys, get ready,” Moose said as he flipped a table over for some additional cover.

Elsewhere

The drone pilot reported the successful hit on the hostile AA emplacement. Switching back to his 30 mm rotary cannon, the drone pilot returned to his priorities. “Pilot, we've got hostile air inbound!” he said, looking at his radarscope.

The unicorn being yelled at responded, “You do realize these mics are on, right?”

“It won't matter if you don't move it!” the gunner responded.

The pilot, realizing his disregard for the enemy, took an immediate bank to the left. The Apache responded without complaint as a red dragon shot past, fire singeing the helicopter. The pilot then countered his maneuver to level off the aircraft, and the chopper responded coolly. “Hostiles, on our tail. Punch it!” the panicked gunner said.

The pilot kicked the throttle forward. The Apache launched itself forward with surprising speed, but the dragons were maintaining their pursuit. “Hang on!” the pilot yelled, as he pulled with all his might back on the stick. The helicopter started whining in protest, but stayed in the maneuver.

Now upside down, the unicorn gunner finally had a clear shot. He stared straight at the hostile, and the cannon synced to his HMD. He pulled the trigger, just as the helicopter stalled. The pilot did a half roll to level the falling bird off. The dragon was thoroughly wounded from the short burst, and the helicopter barely recovered.

At treetop level now, the Apache started kicking up leaves as it continued to charge ahead toward Ponyville, in support of the T-99s. En route, though, a pack of Timber Wolves launched themselves at the foreign aircraft. The Apache was toppled almost immediately upon impact with the Timber Wolves. The burning wreckage in the Everfree was 10 minutes away from any friendlies, and the Wolves owned this territory.

Green, and his Sheridan crew, saw the Apache get brought down by the jumping Timber Wolves. “Guys, we need to move on that downed bird. There may be survivors,” Green ordered. Green and three other Sheridans broke from the column and started their own rescue mission.

Green followed Moose's order, and kept everyone under their hatches. Green got on the squad comms with the other three tanks, “Box formation. Keep your guns aimed at your side of the box, we don't want to get jumped.” The tanks' barrels moved to match the orders, their treads did the same. “Load canister shells,” Green added.

During the shell swap, a large Timber Wolf jumped onto one of the tanks. Green pulled the tread control levers in opposite directions, spinning his tank. Gun facing the boarded tank, the gunner bore-sighted the canister shot. The Wolf was blasted apart, with steel ball bearings and splinters headed in all directions. Green spun the tank back into formation, and continued the mission. For the rest of the journey the tankers were on their toes, but no more resistance greeted them.

Green eased up on the throttle once they got to the Apache wreckage, and started circling the destroyed helicopter. Once he got out of the Sheridan “Deathstalker”, he moved in to investigate, pistol at the ready. He reached the cockpit, but no crewmen were found. There was a lot of blood though. “Mission failure, Apache crew is either dead or captured,” Green said with a sigh, “Let's meet up with the other Deathstalkers.”

The gunner and pilot regained consciousness only to find themselves being dragged through the forest. They tried to struggle free of their captors, but found their limbs bound together. The Timber Wolf carrying them tossed them out infront. The two aviators found themselves in the heart of the swarm: Changelings, dragons, defected griffons, defected ponies, and a captured Guns-a-Go-Go Chinook.

The pilots started wondering how the enemy captured the heavily-armed cargo helicopter, only for their questions to be answered when two ODSTs with aviator wings stepped out from the crowd. Visors down, it was easy to see that they were not all there.

The gunner felt his stomach turn as the two seemingly-possessed ODSTs walked toward them. “If they didn't kill us, they probably have something they want us to do,” the gunner whispered to the pilot.

“If they wanted us for our unique skills, they would've grabbed us at the base. I would say that they just needed two pilots, and we were the most convenient choice for them,” the pilot spoke wise words. One of the ODSTs bent over to the pilot, and pulled out a small pack from an ammo pouch. The pilot's eyes widened, until he saw the item the ODST carried: a large bandage. The other ODST did the same with the gunner. Both of their wounds had been patched, and the bleeding stopped shortly later. The ODSTs backed away, but always faced the two captives in the clearing.

This time, the pilot felt his stomach turn over. The shadows started to move towards the two captives.

Moose fired at the last armored Changeling, dropping him in a short burst. “That's all of them, let's go liberate the rest of the town,” he said, inspiring the other tankers.

Once they stepped outside, the T-99s were already past the trenches and rolling through the town streets. Moose turned to his left as one of the armored hulks rolled by. He saw a team of both ponies and ODSTs raising the Equestrian flag, seemingly reminiscent of the Iwo Jima flagraising.

A BMP pulled up next to the three tankers. The hatch opened to reveal an orange earth pony who bore the Oak Leaves of a Major. “Son, I think we've got this town cleared. Hop in,” the Major said.

“Yessir. I think we should head over and see if the Abrams need any help. I also think that the Sheridan crews can more than handle themselves, seeing how I put Green in charge of them,” Moose responded.

“Alright, let's go help the Abrams!” the aged Major responded.

The Abrams stormed across the grassy planes, taking heavy fire from the front all the while. A massive impact caused the lead Abrams tank to spin out, treads a pile of twisted metal. “Pizza, get that turret forward!” the commander yelled at the gunner to is left.

“Gun, ready,” Pizza responded.

“Fire, fire sabot!” the commander yelled, tapping Pizza's shoulder. As the 68 ton war machine rocked to its explosive drums, the radio crackled to life.

“This is Major Cromwell, reinforcements inbound.”

“What happened to that gunship?” Pizza asked, after acknowledging the Major, “I thought it was giving us support for this flank.”

“It's on the moon. The shells registered good hits, but we thought we would have pushed to the old castle by now. This resistance is definitely unexpected,” the driver reported.

“Get back to the guns,” the earth pony commander ordered the two ODST crewmen. The other Abrams pushed past the disabled tank, and started taking most of the hostile fire in turn.

“Load HEAT,” the commander ordered.

“We're out of HEAT rounds, sir,” Pizza informed.

“Any sabot left?” the commander asked.

“Last one sent,” Pizza said, pulling the trigger.

“The load smoke and cover our allies.”

“Smoke loaded.”

“Commence fire. Snafu, get out there and see if you can get us moving. I'll cover you,” the commander said, turning to the driver.

The earth pony left the tank first, followed closely by Snafu. Pizza continued to lay down smoke. “Everfree treeline two miles away,” the commander told Pizza, relaying lead information.

Pizza continued to fire, but realized his limitations when he reached for the last shell. He loaded it, then fired. With the tank being almost useless, Pizza climbed out to join the other two.

Atop the tank, Pizza dismounted the secondary MG from its mount. Carrying the 12.7 mm Browning, Pizza was having issues overcoming the impressive weight of the weapon system.

A BMP came alongside the three soldiers. “You guys need a lift?” the familiar voice of the Major echoed through the vehicle's external speakers.

“You know it,” the tank commander said. The troops hastily boarded the BMP as the T-99s started to link up with the Abrams.

“Glad to see some friendly faces,” Moose commented as the tankers got into the BMP, “A few T-99s were diverted here to help break through the Eastern flank. The rest are gearing up for the push straight up the middle. The Sheridans are already breaking through the Western flank, they said something about receiving gunship support. They plan in meeting up with the Abrams before the big push.”

The troopers sat down on the three remaining seats. A tech officer turned away from his radio. Facing the Major, he said, “Sir, it looks like the last AA emplacement has been neutralized. A-10s are being scrambled to help, where should I send them?”

I'd say the other T-99s could use them. We've got everything under control here,” the Major said. The officer quickly relayed the directions. Just after he let off the radio, the mouth piece was shot out of his hand by a round that penetrated the BMP. The radio continued to receive and play other transmissions, though.

“Gold Leader, pushing up,” one broadcast played.

“Blue, check your front,” came another.

“Red, to your right!” Gold yelled.

“Gold, What is that?” asked Red.

“Its IFF is off,” reported Blue.

“An unknown aircraft has entered the battlefield?” Red inquired.

“Gold, I think that's a Chinook,” Blue said.

“Gold? ...Gold respond, that's an order!” demanded Red. The smoke cleared, revealing the burning hulks that were the Abrams of Gold team. “We've lost Gold. All Abrams call signs, fire at the Chinook, it ain't friendly!” Red ordered, the sound of explosions nearing the broadcaster.

The Chinook gracefully traversed the skies above the Eastern flank, unloading its weapons on the tanks below. The Apache pilot fought against the invader in his mind with every pull of the trigger, but this was a losing bout. The Apache gunner, however, was holding together a bit better against Sombra's indoctrination. What do you want?!, he asked the invader.

I want everything under my control, including you!, Sombra responded.

You will be disappointed, you cannot have me!

Sombra's control wavered slightly as a canister shell impacted the Chinook, and the gunner burst free from the oppressive control he was forced to endure.

With his newfound freedom, the gunner decided to make the most of it before he lost it again. Repossessing his limbs, he staggered away from the gunnery station and toward the cockpit. His hopes were dashed, however; the door was sealed tight.

The screech of jet engines could be heard in the distance, followed by the roar of the Avenger cannon. Realizing his last shot at saving those below, the gunner stumbled back to his position, with Sombra still trying to regain control. Taking control of the twin 25 mm guns, the soldier took aim one last time. Losing feeling in his legs, he knew Sombra was regaining control.

Using what strength was left, the gunner hit his emergency transponder, and took aim at the distant Warthogs. Firing far ahead of the ground attack aircraft, the first burst missed. The miss was what the veteran gunner was going for; it caught the eye of the A-10 pilots.

The A-10s turned to face the Chinook, moving in to investigate. Their curious approach was greeted with more of the 25 mm gunfire. One A-10 got too close, and took a beating from the other guns of the Guns-a-Go-Go Chinook. The aircraft had an engine burst into flame, and had a large section of its fuselage torn clean off. The bird stayed airborne though, and the others turned to attack.

The gunner collapsed as the last of his control was overpowered by Sombra. Sombra took control far too late for him to pursue his own evil endeavors, though.

A volley of 30 mm cannon fire pierced the ACH-47 at 4,000 rounds per minute. One of the two main rotors started belching smoke, and the bird started to destabilize. The second A-10 came next, this one carried a JDAM (Joint Direct Attack Munition). The 2,000 lbs bomb was released as the first A-10 designated the Chinook. In a single massive fireball, the captured vessel had vanished. It looked like Sombra lost that battle.

The Eastern flank would be breached within the day, according to 105th logistics. Despite this, the lunar landscape was still under siege.

Joe finally tore the last of the defected griffons off of the AC-130, at the loss of two engines. The copilot managed to reconfigure the power distribution adequately enough to keep the gunship airborne. Joe crawled back through the same window he shot out earlier, and turned to the copilot. “You ever think about what war will put you through?” Joe asked.

“When I volunteered for this, I questioned what I would have to go through,” the unicorn responded.

“Well, war will ask a lot of you, but there is no way to know what it will ask for until it does. Personally, I never thought I would have to crawl through broken glass, onto the wing of a 600 year old gunship, and engage in close quarters combat all in a no-atmosphere environment for a bunch of people I met not even two weeks ago. It's kind of funny like that, huh?” Joe jokingly said.

“Heh, yeah. Guess it is kind of funny,” the copilot responded.

“Long ago I realized something about what war demands from someone. That is: if it can be done, expect to do it; if it has been done before, then it's a guarantee; if it has never been done before, it's a possibility; if it's impossible, you must try. To be honest with you, I wasn't too sure if this bird would hold together as we left the atmosphere, it had never been done before,” Joe stated.

“Either way, I'm glad that you're here. I don't think I would've lasted too long in combat without a veteran as decorated as yourself flying with me,” the copilot said.

“Decorations don't mean anything in combat, but common sense means everything. Anybody can be well-decorated, yet not have any battle experience. Hey, there are five guys in Baker Company, my outfit, alone that have more ribbons and medals than I do. Not one of them has seen combat, so their squads don't tend to trust them as much. In peace-time they are great leaders, but they still need to undergo their baptism of fire before the rest of their squads start respecting them. For my squad, they saw me in action for the first time, I think on Madrigal. I held the line as the rest of those sorry guys got off planet. Then Lieutenant, now Captain, Billiam came to my rescue in the last evac Pelican. We also picked up some Spartans after they detonated a HAVOK under a museum that the Covenant were using as a base there. Long story short, until you have proven yourself in a trial by fire, most soldiers will have a tough time trusting you. Take that into consideration, along with me choosing you to be my copilot,” Joe recounted one of his old war stories.

An awe-struck copilot responded, “So you wanted me to undergo my own baptism of fire under your supervision. Ingenious! You choose me as the copilot so that later I would get immediate respect from any future aircrews, but so that you could still call the shots. I don't mean to make you sound evil or anything, just... I'm not that good with words. You wanted to make sure I was safe, while still putting me through the combat that I would later need under my belt. Thanks!”

“Don't mention it,” Joe replied.

A red light started flashing across one of the screens, closely accommodated by a buzzing alarm. Joe quickly reacted, pulling on the countermeasures switch. Nothing happened. “Missile lock! The ECM and flares aren't responding. I think one of those griffons got to the countermeasure pods,” Joe said. The buzzing got notably more rapid.

“Missile away!” the copilot said.

“Evacuate!” Joe yelled across the crew channels, as he threw a reentry pack to the unicorn copilot.

Before the back ramp could even budge open, the missile impacted the hulking gunship. The explosive warhead blasted the plane apart. The cockpit, tail, wings, and fuselage all made separate landings. All was black for Joe has his limp body impacted the dusty surface.

Chapter 12: Final Act

Joe awoke, pain stabbing at him throughout his body. His auto-injectors failed, his visor was cracked, and his armor was ablaze. Joe stumbled onto his feet, and he saw the black detonator laying on the ground 15 ft away. Joe looked around, but all he found was the dead copilot; his helmet was busted open. Still recovering from the crash, Joe took a step toward the detonator. His legs buckled from beneath him, and he fell to the ground once more. An alarm sounded in what was left of his helmet, only this alarm told of the arrival of the Saturn V.

A haze of projectiles from both the Lunar Coalition and the Oppressors blanketed the landscape before Joe. He started the most painful, but necessary crawl of his too-long life. Then a emergency broadcast came through on his radio, “We are losing the line. The enemy has gained reinforcements. All units, retreat.” Joe recognized the voice of Spitfire, as well as the desperation in it. The Saturn V was pointless unless the enemy was in a concentrated area. If the enemy broke free, this world may be lost. Joe collapsed, detonator within arms reach.

Chapter 13: Reinforcements

Spitfire was shocked to see the volume of enemy reinforcements. The question of where they came from was answered by a report from the Equestrian Coalition on the ground, “All hostiles are retreating, looks like we won the ground. Secure all positions in case if they come back. Major Cromwell, out.”

The scattered fliers of the first wave were rapidly being annihilated by the fleeing Changelings and dragons. The few Pelicans left on the lunar surface were quickly redeployed to push back the hostile reinforcements. The dogfighting ensued. The dropships were ill equipped for such offensives, but they were all that could help.

Almost all of Baker Company's dropships were quickly eliminated by the dragons. The first wave fliers were going to have to push back the enemy that had positioned them in a pincer attack. “We cannot surrender the skies!” Spitfire called across all flier comms.

“Ma'am, we can't hold the line for much longer. We just don't have enough troops,” a worried pilot responded.

“If we don't hold the line, Equestria may be lost,” Spitfire countered.

The Rookie, hearing the calls for help from the fliers above, grabbed a nearby radio. He said, “All ground troops, concentrate your fire skyward. We are losing the skies, but watch for friendlies!”

The torrential hail of gunfire from the ground troops was doing far too little to the determined reinforcements. Quickly, the pegasi were forced onto the ground, and the enemy had control over the skies.

Joe continued to lay on the ground, gazing absentmindedly at the hostile skies. Yet again, he saw hope where others saw defeat.

“This is Gilda leading the griffon army. Where do you want us?” came the all-too familiar voice of the prankster.

Joe struggled to turn on his radio, and he broadcast, “...In the skies,” before he collapsed once more.

The Griffon Kingdoms had responded to Celestia's call for help, and they sent their forces en masse. Thousands of griffons entered the airspace, all equipped with their own environment suits. The pegasi that lost the skies responded to this and launched themselves skyward to put the enemy on the defensive. The hostiles started to crumble, and the Saturn V entered the battlefield.

The ICBM from the 1960s stayed on target, thanks to its improvised guidance system. The missile landed amongst the hostiles in their base, HAVOK mine ready for the signal. The light on the detonator turned green.

Joe hastily grabbed the detonator, his armor still ablaze, and his body about to quit out on him. Joe waited for the signal from Spitfire.

Soon, all of the hostile forces, Changelings, and dragons, as well as indoctrinated ponies, griffons, and ODSTs were all forced back to their base. A lone broadcast struck the airwaves, “Blow it.”

Joe flicked open the cap on the detonator, then pressed the button. Joe then collapsed and breathed his last, letting the roar of the flames that consumed his armor lull him to his last slumber.

The HAVOK detonated, the flash of light and shock wave obliterated most of the enemy... most. All the was left in the crater was a shadow amongst shadows. “Sombra!” one flier yelled across the comms.

The Rookie heard this and said, “Mendeleev squad, on me!”

The ponies bearing the Elements of Harmony approached, and followed the Rookie as he charged out of his crater foxhole. “Mendeleev, I'll provide a diversion for Sombra, then you'll have to hit him hard. Give him everything you've got,” the Rookie ordered as he started to regret not having any armor plates.

“Just tell us when,” Rainbow Dash responded.

The Rookie quickly got on his radio once more, “Baker Company, make a hole!” A handful of Pelicans that survived the dogfight earlier formed up. They unleashed a hail of rockets and cannon fire, clearing a path through the wreckage of downed aircraft, leading straight to Sombra's crater.

In the crater, Sombra was still trying to figure out what happened to his forces and his fortress. Through his contemplation, a single taunting voice could be heard, “Hey, Mr. Tall Dark and Gruesome, remember me?”

Sombra turned, only to see the same soldier that infiltrated his base earlier. In a bout of rage, Sombra lashed out with his black magic. Grasping the ODST by his throat, Sombra brought him in closer. “Tell me everything that you have down to my empire,” the fascist king demanded.

“Well, I just laid out the target designators so that the nuke wouldn't miss. I have also stolen a sandwich from your barracks,” The Rookie responded, tauntingly.

“You will suffer a pain that would make death seem merciful and welcome,” Sombra threatened.

“So your sending me back to my ex-wife?” the Rookie joked. Sombra threw the Rookie against the ground at this remark. “I'll take that as a no, so is it my drill instructor?” the Rookie taunted yet again, coughing up a little blood.

“NO!!!” yelled Sombra, clearly annoyed at the Rookie.

“You do realize my squad calls me 'Rookie', as in one of little experience. I, the 'Rookie', managed to destroy your base, ruin your plans, annihilate your forces, and keep you distracted this whole time,” the Rookie said with a grin.

“What was that last part?” Sombra demanded.

“Just this,” the Rookie turned his head to his left, “NOW!”

A giant rainbow arched from the ridge of the crater toward Sombra. Sombra and the ODST were quickly engulfed in the powerful attack, but as Sombra's grasp lessened, the Rookie slipped out of the danger zone. Rapidly crawling backwards, the Rookie covered his head as the power of the Elements of Harmony reached their peek.

Once the rainbow of Harmony faded, nothing was left of the fascist king. The Rookie let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, and said, “All in a days' work.”

Chapter 14: Resident Warfighter

One week after the Battle to End All Evil, the survivors of the battle gathered in Canterlot. The Rookie stood behind the podium, with a veiled structure to his right. He began his speech, “We gather here today, not to mourn over the loss of our heroes, but to celebrate the fruits of their success. This memorial was constructed to have us remember that freedom isn't free, and so that the losses endured to get us here will be remembered. The memorial was constructed using a photograph recovered from one of the fallen's personal effects box. No names have been engraved, because they did not stand as individuals. They stood as one, they stood as friends, they stood as brothers. The materials used in the construction of this memorial were scavenged titanium from the wreckage of the Victory, and diamond dust that was carefully arranged, and specially made by both Luna and Celestia. This memorial stands to conquer the one thing no one has endured; Time. There has been one engraving made on this structure, it reads, 'They were no different than us, and equally diverse'. This was chosen to symbolize the misguided treatment of various soldiers when they first landed in this unique world. Overall, no number of thanks can make up for the monstrous sacrifice made by these men. Fifty years from now, if one of you were to ask me if I was a hero in the war, I would give a simple but heartfelt response: No... but I did serve alongside heroes. I have said everything I could. Enjoy the monument as time passes, and never forget to rejoice every day you live as though it is a good day. What can I say? It was a heck of a night.”

The Rookie left the stage as the veil was removed from the monument. The memorial showed the same likenesses from Joe's Gung-ho photograph of the squad. The memorial was slated to be moved into the monument gardens around the castle. Specifically, it was to be placed next to the Snowdrop Memorial.

The Rookie met up with the rest of his squad, which was now all that was left of Baker Company. Moose turned to the Rookie, “We found a false bottom to Joe's personal effects box. It contained what we consider his will. I'm still surprised that Joe's box was the only one to stay intact after the Victory crashed.”

“What did it say?” the Rookie asked.

“We don't know, it said not to read it until the whole squad was there,” Kraut cut in.

“Let's read it. Also, is Joe doing any better since we recovered him from the battlefield,” the Rookie said.

“Still dead, but we'll keep him on life support and in the cryo tube until something happens,” Bookworm informed.

Pizza grabbed the will, and once Green came back , they started reading it. Snafu read it aloud, “I, Sergeant Joe of Baker Company, 105th ODST, haven't written anything like this before, so pardon any inconsistencies. This is to act as my will, but I do not want it to be read unless if all of my squad are in the same room. The individuals that are in my squad are: Snafu (who will probably be reading this aloud), Pizza, Moose, Green, Bookworm, and the Rookie. Alright, let's do this. Rookie, I think you'll appreciate my old dress uniform the most, but for God's sake, get someone to repair it if I haven't done so yet. Moose, you're taking charge of the squad. Green, (you are not so green now, eh?) You can keep the photograph of the squad. Also, Rookie, that 'dress' M1911 goes with the uniform. The sword though, I would like to keep that one close to me at all times, even after death, unless if I moved on and started a family somewhere, then it stays with the squad. I am trying to make this seem fair to all of you, but there is not enough to go around, I hope you'll understand. When I enlisted all those years ago, I negotiated that I would keep the armor, so I'll be happily buried in that. That's all, enjoy what you've got, but never earn blood money through it. See you guys on the other side.”

The squad divided up the materials according to Joe's final orders. Then, they went to visit Twilight. She had kept Joe's cryo tube in her basement, mainly because she could actively monitor for any vital signs, namely brain activity.

The squad knocked on Twilight's door, and when it opened, Moose said, “We're here to see him.” In the dark basement, the lone metallic tube stood amongst several shelves of books. Moose opened the front hatch of the tube, and placed Joe's family sword next to him, then sealed the tube once more. They all gave a moment of silence for the fallen soldier, but they never did give up hope. As they all turned to leave, they failed to notice the Elements of Harmony glowing along with the hilt of Joe's sheathed sword.

Next, the squad arrived at Carousel Boutique, Rarity's shop and home. The Rookie held up Joe's dress blues, and told Rarity, “We need these repaired, and they should go well with this pistol.” The Rookie held out the M1911, complete with holster, “...but the pistol should be concealed at all times.” The Rookie left the uniform and unloaded firearm with Rarity and Green, for weapon safety.

As the squad started meandering aimlessly through the town, Billiam called them up on the squad channels, “We're getting ready for departure. Long-term colonization efforts will occur on a distant and uninhabited continent for the United Nations Space Command. All UNSC forces are to board the Tempest by 1600 hrs unless otherwise permitted. See you then.”

“I almost don't want to leave,” the Rookie commented.

“I think we all don't. We gave so much for this land, and I would at least want to enjoy it before I leave it,” Moose said.

“Maybe we should talk to the Captain, I'm sure we could come up with some excuse to stay here,” Snafu commented.

“Let's go see if we can get permission to stay, and while we're en route, maybe Celestia would have a good word to put forth for us,” the Rookie said.

The team casually walked the distance to Canterlot, and met with the two princesses. The discussion would last for some time, but eventually they brokered an agreement. “We aren't going to reconstruct our embassy for a while, but we would like to stay here for a longer duration. Is there anything you can do for us that could help?” Moose asked.

“I believe I could grant all of you citizenship for your service in the defense of the city, but I still can't give you a home. Others need places to stay as much as you do, but you can purchase a home, or find someone willing to have you live with them, I'll be fine with either option,” Celestia responded.

“Thank you, Celestia,” the Rookie said.

The team went back to the bay Joe was recovered from back when he escaped. In dock, was the Tempest. This time though, her guns were lowered. The squad confronted Billiam with their requests.

“Sir, our squad would very much like to stay here. You could consider it a foreign relations mission, or keeping a foothold in distant territories, but either way, we would like to stay,” Moose said.

The Captain turned to face the squad, and said, “Frankly, I still owe Joe a couple. I'll let you stay so long as you keep an eye on him. You know what they say: heroes never die. He never gave up hope on us, and we shouldn't do so to him. If anything happens, tell me about it.”

“Thank you, sir,” the squad responded in sync.

After another lengthy trek, the squad arrived back in Ponyville. “Let's all go see if we can find a place to stay,” the Rookie suggested. The squad spread out, each with the intent of asking one particular pony for a place to stay.

Kraut went to Zecora. He was always fascinated by foreign cultures, and figured that it would be a fantastic place to stay.

Moose, feeling some nostalgia for the farm life he left on Harvest, decided to see if Applejack would allow him to stay.

The Rookie, always pushing his limits and keeping it together all the while, reasoned that Rainbow Dash might give him a room.

Bookworm, as his name would suggest, loved reading, so he ventured for Twilight Sparkle. He also wanted to keep an eye on Joe, being the squad medic and all.

Green wanted to stay with Rarity, especially after he realized his knack for aesthetic designs, and that both of them had an affinity for fashion.

Pizza earned his name while he was the Battalion cook, and he missed the joys of baking, so he chased after Pinkie Pie, who excitedly agreed.

Snafu, having missed the family dog back home, wanted to see if Fluttershy would let him stay for a while. It did take a while for him to get a solid reply from her, though.

One month passed, and the squad continued to live on. This time, though, some reenactments were on the schedule, instead of war. The upcoming event was a recreation of the Battle of the Bulge and the Race to Bastogne, and all were in attendance. In addition to the upcoming reenactments, the squad started showing old copies of Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Saving Private Ryan to anypony who wanted to see it. Quickly, the natives started to understand just what a soldier goes through in war.

The reenactment was slated to take place in the Whitetail Woods, just before Hearth's Warming Eve. The teams of actors had managed to find enough Sherman tanks, as well as Tigers and Panzers for the reenactment to go off without a hitch.

Discord was still seen on occasion, but everyone looked him over with a weary eye. No one knew where he had been during the battle a month earlier, but no one could draw a connection between him and the battle either. Finally, Luna had confronted him about it. “Where were you during the war?” she asked.

“I was away, tending to some urgent matters,” Discord responded.

“How do I know you are telling the truth? You have acted against us before,” Luna countered.

“You can trust me on this because I haven't caused any long-term damage to anypony with my magic. I merely pull pranks on others, though I have been refraining from that after I was set free once more. I couldn't bear to see myself lose the one thing that I have gained after a thousand years; a friend. So I merely use my magic on those who can understand what is intended by it. I believe that I was pulling a couple of pranks with Gilda when the Victory went down. If you want to confirm my story, you'll have to talk to her,” Discord responded.

“Very well, we shall confirm this tale. If they coincide, we shall no longer be suspicious of your activities that day. Farewell,” Luna said, flying off.

Discord was left there, and his story was later confirmed with Gilda. After that, people didn't question Discord's role in the war; he had none.

The squad still kept close relations with one another, and kept on using the reenactments as a means to stay battle-ready, should any UNSC vessel arrive. That day seemed far too distant for most of the squad, but for Bookworm it was far too near.

Bookworm kept on reading anything that could help Joe, but continued to find nothing in all of the books he read. One day, he just gave up on continuing his searches, and moved on. Joe's cryo tube was quickly forgotten.

The squad continued to live day by day, treating each as though it were a good day. To them, what made a day a good day, was that they lived to see it. No one forgot the memorial standing in the Canterlot gardens, but few remembered the names of the figures depicted in it. The sacrifices those figures made though, would be remembered for all time.

Then one day, the Tempest arrived back in Equestria, just a few weeks after Bookworm quit his research.

“D-day plus sixty-four,” Moose said, standing infront of the old Iowa-class battleship.

“What?” the Rookie responded.

“It's been sixty-four days since we set foot here for the first time. I really did not notice how quickly time had passed,” Moose clarified.

“It seems so long ago when we first hit. I still remember the Rookie toppling out of his pod upside down,” Snafu said with a nostalgia-ridden chuckle.

“They said the Tempest would bring over a diplomatic team. Let's go meet them,” Pizza said.

The squad marched onto the Tempest, but elsewhere something powerful was awakening.

A buzzing sound could be heard across the Mild West, as sickly-green particles blazed across the sandy landscape. This world would need another hero.

Chapter 1: Strange New World

On a lonesome night in the recently recolonized Epsilon Eridani system, the UNSC Infinity had deployed the battleship Victory on a standard ODST training mission, and a historic supply run. The Victory was nearing the planet Reach, which was still burning from that fateful day 7 years ago. The ship's crew was supposed to be practicing a gravity-augmented slip-space jump. If it worked, it would enable a jump into the atmosphere of other worlds. They neared, engines burning at 350% optimal power output. The Shaw-Fujikawa drive sputtered to life, but started sparking, out of control, due to the gravity of the nearby dead planet. 2559 was going to be a hectic year for the Victory. They jumped.

The navigation computer shorted out, the crew was flying blind. They could do nothing but hope and wait now that they were in slip-space. The ship exited the eleven-dimensional space, only to have the crew find that they were above a planet similar to Earth. “Those continents don't seem to be industrialized, I don't think this is Earth,” a nervous ensign said.

“Such a jump has never been done before, I wouldn't be surprised if this isn't even the same galaxy,” said the captain.

“Sir, engines are offline, ETA on reactivation is two weeks,” the engineering officer said.

“Get some eyes groundside,” ordered the captain.

“No can do sir, hanger doors fused shut in the jump, ODST pods are free, though,” one of the scientists said.

“Understood, Richards, send them groundside. Set the LZ as the forest down below. If whoever is down there hasn't industrialized yet, better keep the Helljumpers where they can get some cover,” the captain said.

“Orders received, sending SLRP team. Once initial reports get back, we'll send the rest of the 105th,” ODST Sgt. Joe responded.

Joe walked down to the barracks. He turned to the ODSTs and said, “Squad leaders, on me.”
He turned and left, with the NCOs trailing behind. “We're going to head groundside, we'll need Specialized Long-Range Patrols down there first, so equip a few squads for recon. I'll also need the engineers to establish a Forward Operating Base for future SLRP teams.” The 7 NCOs arrived at the armory, and started grabbing everything imaginable: MA5Bs, frag grenades, belts of 7.62mm x 38mm, assault weapons, sniper rifles, HMGs, LMGs, SAWs, and rocket launchers. It started looking like the Human-Covenant war. Once the squads were ready, they went to the pod bays. “What about all those 20th - 21st century aircraft in the hanger?” one ODST, Moose, said.

“We were going to deliver those aircraft to the RAF and USAF joint-military museum in Olympus Mons. They were planning on having a reenactment of the First Martian War, so we armed them to the teeth. Doesn't look like we'll make it though,” said ODST Rick.

“Focus on the matter at hand,” Joe said, carrying a beast of a weapon, the M16A10. The M16A10, named after the Warthog, is a standard M16 that has been re-chambered to 30-06 SEAP2 (Semi-Explosive, Armor Piercing, Anti-Personnel), given a belt instead of a magazine, a case containing 9,000 rounds (worn like a rucksack, enough for 10min of continuous fire), a water coolant system (30lbs tank on top of the ammo case), a 40mm SEAL-variant M79 grenade launcher mounted under the barrel (4 rounds of 40mm grenades, pump-action), a toggle-able 10x - 20x variable zoom scope, and a lot of other gizmos mounted on the remaining rails of the weapon. Joe also grabbed a M1911, this, however, has nothing special about it. These were the weapons Joe had on the Martian front during the First Martian War.

The drop siren sounded, bringing everyone to maximum awareness. “Get ready, and get in your pods. One minute until drop,” Joe said. The now-armored ODSTs got into their drop-pods, the standard SOEIV (Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle), and gripped the two flight sticks. The yellow lights turned red.

The pods burst forth, descending from 350,000ft, letting gravity handle the acceleration for now. Twenty minutes later, the SOEIVs hit atmosphere, slowing them down. A few seconds later, Joe radioed, “Start controlled burn of rockets, stay on my course.” Joe had done this dozens of times, only those drops were in combat. The rockets roared to life, rapidly accelerating the pods, but sputtered out 10sec later. “Pop your 'chutes, arm the explosive bolts,” Joe, again, informed. Most of the squad had done this before, but there were a few FNGs on the team.

There was a loud crash, the pods had landed. Joe hit the explosive bolts. Once the door was blasted off, he burst out of his pod, rifle ready. “Clear. Helljumpers, sound off!” Joe barked.

“Green, okay.”

“Moose, doing fine”

“Bookworm, ready”

“Snafu, up”

“Kraut, frosty”

“Pizza, baked”

The squad was okay, but Joe remembered a recent transfer... “Rookie, you there?” Joe asked.

“Trapped,” came the response. Joe went to the pod were it came from. “Have you blown the bolts?” Joe asked.

“No, sir,” the Rookie replied.

“Hit 'em, they should be glowing RED, once they're GREEN, it'll blow that dumb look right off your face,” Joe responded. Shortly later, the pod burst open, the Rookie toppled over. Apparently he landed upside down. The squad chuckled. Joe grabbed the Rookies weapons that were latched in. He pulled an MA5C out, and saw a non-regulation insignia on one of the magazines.

“Soldier, what is this?” Joe asked the Rookie, making sure that the rest of the squad couldn't see the image on the side of the weapon. Joe didn't want his men annoyed toward one another in the field, but on-base was a different story. The Rookie said, “It looks like an MA5C, sir.”

“Don't be a smart-ass,” Joe replied.

“It is a 2D image of an apple, sir,” the Rookie replied, half-honestly. Joe leaned in toward the Rookie, and said, “I know the show. Don't worry, I am a Brony too... Come to think of it,” Joe stood up, “doesn't this forest look familiar to you?” He asked.

“Looks like the Everfree Forest to me, sir” the Rookie replied.

Author's Note

I am rather excited to complete this work. This is not only the first fan fiction I have made, but it is also the first large-scale story I have finished (second one I started). I do have plans for this in the future, but that's a long ways off. It took me one month, one week, and one day to write and proofread this. I like to think that this novel can show how human (or Covenant) a Brony can be, and how diverse a single individual may be as well. I started writing this one week after I became a Brony, 4/13/13, and finished it on 5/28/13. I am rather pleased with it overall, but there are some parts I may rewrite. Take the morals you learn from this tale to heart, I did the same to a show I gave one good chance. That show has reinforced my truer habits, as well as made me contradict the worse habits. Overall, the morals I have tried to vaguely convey here are my own reflections on the morals I learned while becoming a Brony. Everyone deserves a second chance, and that includes a first chance as well. Until the next story is penned, enjoy this one for now...

Chapter 6: One Last Push

“I used that teleporter after I set the HAVOK to a two second delay. From what I've seen, it looks like the teleporter is only good for one use. Also, we saw our first Changeling over Ponyville, so it is safe to assume that they are still there. We need to head over there and make sure it is safe,” the Rookie said.

“Good point. Squad, meet up at the Victory, you've all earned some rest. Rookie, you're with me. We're taking back Ponyville!” Joe ordered. The squad, despite the protests, went onto the awaiting Pelican. En route to the Victory, the squad was stuck hoping that the two that stayed would make it. Ground-side, Joe and the Rookie started running to the contested town. Joe called out, “Rookie, we have a P-47 Thunderbolt equipped with full wartime payload sitting in the Victory's hangar. You need to fly air cover on this op. I've already radioed the ship's AI, Sikorsky, to send it down.”

“Alright, sir. Heading to the drop point now,” the Rookie complied.

Joe continued the run, with a few strategies flowing through his mind. It was like his brain was on WEP; flanking routes, air strafe patterns, hostile combat routines, everything. He had to stop for a second to reorganize his thoughts... only a second. He continued to run, Ponyville just few hundred yards away.

He entered the town, carnage visible everywhere. He shouldered his rifle, a MA5C Green gave him, and continued his pace. The Changelings were not visible, no matter where he looked. On a hunch, Joe activated the thermal vision on his visor. He saw thermal residue in what looked like a trail, and followed it. The eery quietness prevalent in this endeavor. Joe made sure that a round was chambered as he came around the corner. He still saw nothing, but this time, he heard some rustling behind him. He spun around, rifle aimed just below head level. Nothing was there. Joe, realizing his surroundings, noticed he was in the middle of a possible ambush point. Just as he turned to leave, the trap had sprung.

The Changelings quickly disarmed the lone ODST, and proceeded to overwhelm him. Joe, stripped of his rifle, reached for his sidearm. It, too, was gone. Joe instinctively pulled out his final weapon, his Ka-Bar. Grasping the primitive knife in his off-hand, Joe pushed past the swarming Changelings with his right. Once he breached the ambush perimeter, he turned around, only to be swarmed again. Just when all hope seemed lost, a distinctive roar came from the horizon...

The lone P-47 stormed overhead, strafing the Changeling crowd with its eight fifty caliber guns. The Changelings quickly dispersed, and miraculously, Joe was unharmed. Joe quickly reoriented himself into a combat stance, bringing his knife to bear. One Changeling in the dispersed crowd fired an explosive spell at Joe. Joe dodged to the side, but was still hit. The armor on his right arm was torn completely free, revealing the robotic prosthetic he received after Reach. Joe removed the safety locks on his robotic arm and overpressured the hydraulics in it, all from his HMD. A brave, or stupid, Changeling charged at the monolithic soldier. Joe hit him with an uppercut, launching the would-be attacker skywards. Joe didn't let the other Changelings act before he, himself, charged. Joe stabbed one with his Ka-Bar, and with a sweep of his prosthetic arm, launched the rest away. Another Changeling attempted something similar to the explosive magic from before, but Joe activated his Hardlight Shield, sending it back. The Changelings, scattered and bloodied, promptly retreated. As they flew away, Joe got on the radio, “Rookie, I need you to pursue the Changelings that are evacuating Ponyville. We need to know where they live.”

“Solid copy, beginning pursuit of hostile exfiltrators,” the Rookie said.

Joe turned around, with a sigh, and reset the safety locks on his arm. He looked up, only to see a blinding yellow light strike him with the force of a freight train.
Much later

Joe awoke, and promptly activated his emergency transponder. When he looked around, he saw nothing but stone walls. He looked himself over, his body feeling very numb. He noticed he still had legs, that was good. He looked left and saw his arm in one piece, also good. He looked right and saw his arm in a dozen pieces, not so good. He also noticed he was still in his armor, which made sense seeing how it took a team of engineers to equip him with it when it first came out. Joe took another glance around the cell, and made note of him being shackled by the wrists and ankles. He tried to move his prosthetic arm, but it failed to respond. As the chamber door creaked open, something entered Joe's mind, something very insignificant. He couldn't recognize where it came from, but it just may save his life, so he kept it to himself until he could figure out where he was. His mind still distraught, Joe couldn't quite make out colors, but greyscale was all he needed. A certain white alicorn approached the shackled ODST, decisive anger in her eyes. Joe started first, “Good evening, gorgeous.” Celestia didn't acknowledge his greeting.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” she demanded.

“Frankly, last thing I remember is losing my temper on some of those deceptive devils we so fondly refer to as Changelings,” Joe responded, regaining the color in his vision.

“You have been brought here for your trial,” Celestia said.

“I don't remember being read my rights, nor the charges. Care to fill me in?” Joe retorted.

“You are being charged with the high crime of waging war, something that all the nations of this world have outlawed five hundred years ago,” Celestia said, almost as if to a third party.

“Seeing as there is no jury, this is either a martial court, or an interrogation,” Joe said, rapidly recovering from his unconsciousness.

“Both yes. This is an interrogation, and I know how to make you talk. After the confession, you'll be brought before the martial court, seeing as you are a soldier,” Celestia informed.

“You know, my emergency beacon was activated as soon as I awoke. The Victory will send a rescue team to liberate me from my confinement,” Joe warned.

“Then we will make this quick.”

“I still haven't been read my rights.”

“You aren't a pony, so we will not treat you as one.”

“But I am sentient. That has to count for something.”

“Oh, but it does. That is the one reason we're having this trial.”

“More like a logistical formality, than equal rights.”

“Enough stalling. Let's get on with this.”

“Specificly, I still do not know what I am being charged with. Was it the Battle for Canterlot, or the Liberation of Ponyville?”

“It is the events that happened in Ponyville.”

“I would assume that the pursuit of a non-immediate threat to my own well-being was what caught your attention.”

“That is correct.”

“And why not the Battle for Canterlot?”

“You were defending your squad, and later yourself.”

“So why doesn't that apply to Ponyville?”

“You attacked when no life was clearly in danger. You emerged from the ambush unscathed, that should have told you something.”

“It told me that the enemy was getting smarter, and could tactically operate at my own level.”

“You did give orders to pursue a fleeing threat, what have you got to say for that?”

“I didn't want the enemy to regroup after I saw what they were capable of. I despise deception more than most other things.” Joe's radio crackled a little.

“What was that?” Celestia asked.

“My throat's getting a little soar,” Joe improvised, as he slowly started straining the metal shackles.

“I have a feeling that is the least of your concerns.”

“That is correct. Now, what is you motive? To make an example of me?” Joe said, taking the initiative.

“No, it is to serve justice.”

“Last I checked, being shackled in a cold damp dungeon would be classified as 'cruel and unusual punishment' and I have not been granted a lawyer as of yet.”

“One is en route.”

“ETA?”

“15 minutes”

“What about the maximum punishment for the crimes I am being charged with,” Joe said, being as thorough as possible.

“That is to be determined by the jury.”

“You just said there will be no jury, and I am certain that whoever is on the other side of that wall can read that back to you.”

“How do you this is being monitored?”

“Your questions are too broad, as though they are intended to be read by another individual.”

“That's preposterous!”

“And I can safely assume that whoever is writing this down is either Princess Luna, Princess Twilight, or Spike. The latter two are inseparable and would most likely accompany one another for this documentation. The former would be chosen due to convenience and trust, though it makes you biased.”

“This interrogation is over!”

“Does that mean I may leave now?”

“NO!”

“I still haven't received my lawyer!”

The door slammed shut. “I think I got more information out of them than they did me...” Joe uttered quietly, so that the recorder could not hear. Joe thought for a moment: Seeing as Twilight put in a good word for me when I helped establish the embassy, it probably wasn't her back there. Spike would have a hard time alone, and with any higher-vocabulary words. That would leave Luna as the only practical option, seeing as the palace guards are easy to fool, and that Shining armor would most likely be on the martial board and Cadence being in the Crystal Empire... That's it!

Joe thought, since the Crystal Empire is a separate nation, it may buy him sometime if he can get there in time. Calling upon the tiny, life-saving tidbit from before, Joe remembered that metal is susceptible to fatigue over time. Knowing he was out for a while, and how much he weighed in his armor, Joe figured that the shackles would be fairly stressed. In one fell swoop, Joe stretched as far as he could go, them slammed his limbs together. The restraints shattered, except for the ones securing his unresponsive prosthetic arm. Joe painfully tore the arm out of its socket, apparently the only thing that worked on it was the pain receptors. After the wincing and the regret, Joe tried for an escape. Seeing as the prison cell door was not dead-bolted, and no guards came to investigate the shattering sound from before, Joe kicked the door down. The hallway was empty, “It has been fifteen minutes, so where is my lawyer...” Joe uttered with a chuckle.

Realizing the difficulty of his escape, Joe opted for an out-of-sight route instead of the front-door approach. If anypony saw him, he was busted. He quickly wrote down a poem to puzzle his pursuers. It was Rudyard Kipling's Prelude:
I have eaten your bread and salt.
I have drunk your water and wine.
The death ye died I have watched beside,
And the lives ye led were mine.
Was there aught that I did not share
In vigil or toil or ease, -
One joy or woe that I did not know,
Dear hearts across the seas?
I have written the tale of our life
For a sheltered people’s mirth,
In jesting guise - but ye are wise,
And ye know what the jest is worth.
Afterward, Joe added his own note: Once you understand this, you may then judge me.

Joe leaped through a nearby, unbarred window. Upon landing, he found himself sliding down a rock face. On the ground, he noticed the Rookie's crater from the HAVOK, though it was being repaired by a squadron of earth ponies. Once Joe got to ground level, he switched his radio to channel seven, “This is Sgt. Joe of the UNSC Victory, any and all local forces respond immediately. I am currently en route from Canterlot to the Crystal Empire. I need an evac ASAP! I am wounded, and on the lamb. Rendezvous points are at 20, 50, 100, and 150 Km to the aforementioned destination. ETA: two hours. Awaiting pickup,” Joe said. He set it to loop every 15 seconds. As he charged forth, entering what was left of the decimated forest in the north, the Rookie streaked over in a P-47. “Joe, I've got a visual on you. The Victory dropped a battleship in the waters off the Equestrian coast, it's an Iowa-class. The ship's guns are poised at Canterlot, and the Navy is currently negotiating for your release. You've been gone for some time, a few days last I checked. The Changeling base has been found, and we are currently prepping for an assault scheduled for a few days from now,” the Rookie informed.

“Tell that battleship to lower her guns, I'll negotiate for my peaceful return,” Joe said, turning back.

“Copy that,” the Rookie switched to the Naval channels, “All warships, stand down. The VIP is going to negotiate the terms himself. He wants this done without bloodshed,”

“Understood. All ships, stand down. I know what this man can do,” said a familiar sounding Captain.

Joe sprinted back to the place that moments before was his prison. Ignoring the working crews, he ran through the crater. This time, a footprint was not going to need to be minimal.

Joe reached the gates of Canterlot once more. Knowing he wouldn't get the audience he wanted otherwise, Joe climbed over the retaining walls and entered the city. Due to his negligence prior, Joe started noticing increased guard patrols throughout the city. Between the gaps in the patrols, Joe moved out. He got to the steps of the castle unnoticed. Needing a stealthy way in, he carefully placed a low-velocity explosive a good distance from the door; he didn't want to hurt anypony. He pulled the 15 second fuse and ran to an exterior wall, and without hesitation, started placing high-velocity charges on the wall. Joe synced the explosions. The low-velocity charge, generating more noise, and thus drawing more attention, would distract the guards from the quieter explosion several feet away. Joe carefully climbed through the circular hole the C-12 had made. Arriving in an abandoned room, some sort of storage closet, Joe carefully opened the door. Through the slight crack, he saw the royal kitchen, which was being rapidly evacuated due to the prior explosion at the front door. Once deserted, Joe crept out. He snuck his way to an exterior balcony. Once there, and several stories up, Joe launched a rappelling line upwards. The line attached to another balcony near the top of the tower. Taking note of the telescope on the balcony above, Joe started climbing the tower. His armor's built-in EVA pack was aiding his ascent. Once at the top, a few hundred stories above the ground, Joe noticed he had arrived in the royal bedchambers. Seeing as night was falling, Joe expected to see one of the princesses soon.

Deciding not to waste the spare time, Joe sat down for some rest, placing his head against the guardrail. His helmet felt heavy and stifling, so Joe abruptly took it off. Looking in his own visor's reflection, Joe saw the wartorn face of his own looking back. Deep down inside, Joe was scared of what he saw in his own eyes. He saw the never ending remorse that pursued him through the Human-Covenant war. He saw all the faces of the lost, knowing he couldn't bring them back. He saw Mars. The Martian Insurrection happened so shortly after the war ended, it seemed almost heartless that the rebels would attack a crippled humanity in a failed attempt to gain power. Lastly, he saw his squad. The squad that stayed with him through Harvest, Reach, and even the Arc. They were all he had left, that and a few personal effects. He smiled a little at this warm thought, only to feel cold stares gazing upon him. As he looked up, he saw that Celestia had called the guards into the bedchambers after finding the sergeant lost in his thoughts. One last thought entered the old sergeant's mind, this time he spoke it out loud. “I was a Language Composition teacher before the war, I also spent some time teaching History. Even tutored on the side for a few friends who needed it. Not once did the thought of enlisting cross my mind, until I saw the world burn. I was teaching on a place that seems so far from here, a place called Harvest. A few of my friends were there because of a roadtrip we had planned for later that day. When the war reached us, everything changed. Cities burned, people died, and there was nothing I could do. I fought as best I could, aiding the evacuees. After that, I decided to enlist in the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. My friends ended up doing so as well, though we never mentioned it. Several weeks later, I... had changed. I no longer viewed standard morals I held close to heart in the same light. In an effort to distance myself from the enemy, I had distanced myself from who I am. Now I am seeking redemption. Humanity treated me like a hero after what happened only one world away. I can't stand that kind of attention, I always knew the real heroes never make it back. I volunteered for the reenactment we were headed to before this happened. I wanted to make sure I was far away from any fans or journalists. Flying was the only solution. The eggheads wanted us to try some new sort of jump, and we ended up here. Celestia... I would like to talk to you in private, at the negotiating table. Let's not make this an interrogation, nor a reverse interrogation like before. What do you say? Diplomacy over war?”

The guards closed in, getting ready to drag Joe back to his cell. “Leave him,” Celestia responded. The guards abruptly set Joe down. “Give us some privacy,” the white monarch ordered. The guards quickly obliged.

“Thank you,” a weakened Joe said, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“I didn't know one could be so...”

“Human. Human is our word for it. Equestrian may be a valid replacement for it” Joe finished.

“Human...” Celestia echoed.

“I think we got off on the wrong side here, can we start again?” Joe asked.

“I think we all deserve at least a second chance,” Celestia responded.

“I am Sergeant Joe of the UNSC, 105th ODST, and you are?” Joe reintroduced himself.

“I am Princess Celestia of Equestria. I rule alongside my sister, Luna, and together we raise the Sun and the Moon,” Celestia did as Joe did.

“Glad to meet you. We, the men on the Victory, are lost and have no way to get home as of now. Will you care to give us a place to stay? A small town near the forest to the South shows some promise,” Joe said.

“You may stay there, but first, you should understand our laws,” Celestia said, producing a scroll with various legal notes on it.

“Thank you. I guess I should be honest with you. Back where I come from, there is this television series, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. My Little Pony is almost identical to this world here. The names, places, history, and occupations are the same. The show itself is several hundred years old, but knowing how 11th dimensional space works, I would say that the gravity of the planet, the technology the eggheads had, and the ancient aircraft on the Victory launched us back in time. The aircraft would provide an anchoring-point for any time fluctuations that may have occurred. Which means that some of us are very familiar with this place. Although, there are not that many viewers of the show on the Victory. The only ones that I know of are myself and the Rookie. We are honored, though, to be here,” Joe informed, making sure he was recording his words. Twilight would also want an explanation in the future.

“I see, so you know everything that has happened here?” Celestia responded.

“Far from it. I only know some of what happened after you sent Twilight Sparkle to Ponyville,” Joe responded, “Most of that knowledge consists of a majority of Twilight's endeavors, a few of Spike's, and a notable collection of other challenges that Twilight's friends have been through.”

“Care to tell me the events that surround those times?” Celestia asked.

“The rise and fall of Nightmare Moon, to Twilight's coronation is a decent frame of reference,” Joe responded. The discussion continued for some time in this manner. Later, Twilight and Luna joined in, and Joe informed them of everything that he told Celestia.

Back on the Victory. “Sir, the star patterns don't make any sense here,” the navigation officer said.

“What do you mean, can you tell us where we are or not?” the Captain responded.

“Sir, according to these star maps, we ended up almost exactly where we needed to go,” the officer responded.

“Care to educate me?” the Captain countered.

“Sir, these maps say that we are above Earth, but if you try to find the continents, they are not there. I would say that the Forerunner technology the Infinity gave us to transport back to Earth may have caused some sort of multiversal shift. In other words, sir, we are not in the same universe as Earth. I don't think we may be able to return home. Even if we get the engines repaired, where will we go?” the officer explained.

“Get some of those ONI spooks up here to explain this. Also, bring up the science teams,” the Captain ordered. Moments later, the requested teams arrived.

“What have we been brought up here for?” a spook demanded.

“I called you here, because we are exactly where we need to be, above Earth. The only problem is that the rock below us is not Earth. The stars are telling us that everything is in order, but the continents are telling us a different story. You need to explain this, now,” the Captain ordered.

“Perhaps it was a problem with the Forerunner technology we were transporting?” a scientist said.

“Captain Evans, I think there may be some truth to that statement. Just before the gravity-augmented slip-space jump, we started seeing some unusual readings from the artifacts. In addition to those readings, it seemed to correlate with some of the aircraft we were also transporting. Specificly, the F/A-18E Super Hornets. The electronics on them started running without warning. When we pulled the power supplies, it persevered. After the jump, a surge of energy came from the artifacts. Tracing the energy surge, it pointed directly at the engines, hence their destruction. I believe that the Forerunners want us to be here. I don't know their motives, but it's too much of a coincidence otherwise,” an ONI officer said.

“Get the ground team up here, the one that recently returned,” Capt. Evans said, gesturing towards his liaison officer. The squad returned, headed by Moose.

“You wanted to see us, sir?” Moose asked.

“Yes, the science team has got us caught up in some sort of impossible scenario. I need to know what it was like on the ground. The stars are saying we're at Earth, but the planet's telling us we've got the wrong address,” Evans said.

“Sir, the atmosphere is identical to that of Earth's. The physics say that the gravity is the same. The Terra-firma tells us that it is Earth. Despite this, however, the people we've met tell a different story. First off, they are sentient ponies who speak English flawlessly. Second, they call the land 'Equestria'. Third, they were shocked to see us, almost as though they've never seen a human before. Finally, only one of the individuals we met seemed to recognize us, I can't recall what she looked like, but she got all wide-eyed and ran home, presumably,” Moose responded.

“Can you back up these ridiculous accusations with any evidence?” the Captain replied.

“Yes, sir,” Kraut said, pulling, then handing, his neural implant to Evans. Evans plugged the chip into his command chair, and displayed it on the big screen toward the front of the bridge. It showed the perspective of Kraut as the ODST prepped. Joe walked into the room and said, “Squad leaders, on me,” and left. Moose and the other NCOs followed. The captain fast forwarded through most of the following footage. He stopped when he saw green streaks going through the sky, and hit play. Kraut looked up at the mysterious new foes, and said, “The city is under attack!” after he heard some screaming from the local town. The squad charged into the town, leaving the recently-established embassy behind. Moose took point with his M240B, Kraut followed close behind. Once in town, they saw ponies running like there would be no tomorrow.

They were being chased by grotesque, insect-like, counterparts. Beams of a sickly-green color streaked throughout the streets. A brown stallion with what looked like an hour glass on his flank approached the squad. He said, “Help us, we won't last forever!” and was quickly driven away by the invaders. Some stray bolts of the sickly-green projectiles hit Green. The bolts dissipated on impact, but succeeded in knocking the soldier off his feet. As he climbed up, Kraut noticed a F-51 Mustang streak overhead, with a F-18 trailing behind. What shocked him though was that a rainbow was flying alongside the Mustang, matching its speed. The Mustang, judging from the boom, broke the speed of sound moments earlier, with the Hornet flying at a subsonic speed close behind it. A green bolt hit Kraut, bringing him back to the situation at hand. As he was knocked down, he unholstered his sidearm. Just as he started taking aim, he saw the green bolt had not fully dissipated. It had left a sticky green substance behind, and judging from the wince of pain Kraut gave, it was mildly acidic. Opening up his canteen, Bookworm quickly poured the contents out onto the patch of the painful substance. “Thanks,” Kraut said. Noticing a black figure moving with shocking agility behind Bookworm, Kraut raised his pistol, and fired. The creature fell out of the sky after the loud report was heard. The town was dead quiet for a split moment. “Open fire!” Pizza yelled, and Snafu quickly obliged. Moose let loose with the 240 Bravo. Almost immediately, the invaders began to retreat in response to the torrential and unyielding power of the squad's arms. “Blitzkrieg!” Kraut yelled as he got up, pushing off Bookworm. Kraut made sure not to broadcast his remark. Grabbing his shotgun, Kraut charged toward the retreating hostiles. Captain Evans seemed captivated by this.

Kraut, with the squad behind him, slid a round into the chamber on his AA-12. Unloading the buckshot on the out-of-range targets, Kraut suppressed the enemy and encouraged their retreat. Without breaking step, Kraut dropped the emptied magazine and slid a new one home in one fluid motion. The retreating hostiles fled over a hill, and Kraut relentlessly pursued, but paused as he crested the mound. The enemy had organized a counterattack. Kraut, referencing his World War Two dialogue, yelled out, “Stormtroopers!” He opened up on the charging enemy, holding his ground. As the squad caught up, it seemed as though Kraut would be overrun. Moose quickly cleared off the hostiles that were dog-piling on Kraut. Pizza encountered a jam on his rifle, but when he tried to draw his sidearm, it was knocked loose. In response, he drew his sword and charged like a madman. Kraut followed suit, Snafu covering him with air-burst rockets streaking overhead. The hostiles started to withdraw from the battle waged by the veterans of war. A castle came into view as the sea of enemies parted. Kraut gave his warning from earlier, but now it seemed like it was so long ago, “The city is being overrun...”. The squad ran forth, seeing that the regal city was also under siege. Shortly thereafter, two Broadsword fighters provided a low flyby over the city. The ODSTs took the initiative, charging into the fray as the resulting sonic boom reverberated throughout the city. The enemy showed their faces, but only before giving chase to the two fly-boys. Kraut watched in awe as one Broadsword zoom-climbed into the atmosphere, trying to force a stall. The other banked hard-right and burst into a fireball. The squad saw the explosive bolts along the cockpit detonate, as the enemy tore the Broadsword to pieces. The squad continued to run, making it to the center of the city before seeing a bright flash, followed by a tremendous roar. The thermal sensors on their armor spiked. “Was that a nuke?” Green asked. There was a long pause as the team tried to figure out what happened. “Guys, I think that was a HAVOK!” Green continued. The squad started to settle down after a few minutes, they were clearly daunted after seeing one of their brothers-in-arms fall. Bookworm decided to start practicing medicine, getting the squad patched-up before the hostiles returned. He was the squad's corpsman. Kraut gazed skyward, trying to figure out who that brave soldier was. He noticed a small orange light descending from above. He tried to put his concerns to words, but nothing came out. Shortly later, he saw the light land just over the mountain. He waited for a long time, trying to collect his thoughts. Several minutes later, Kraut saw Joe approaching at a fast jog. Joe snapped a salute to the regal pony that Kraut didn't see arrive. Joe continued his approach to the squad. The Captain stopped the recording.

“So that is what those people are like?” Evans asked.

“Hardly, sir, we only had a few minutes worth of interaction before we were cut off again,” Moose said.

“Continue the clip if you want, either way, we don't know what happened to the sergeant,” Snafu said.

“Sgt. Joe went MIA in a foreign, and apparently hostile, area. We assumed the worst, and are currently using 'aggressive negotiation' to try to 'convince' the locals to find him,” Capt. Evans responded.

A radio call prevented Moose's response, “This is the UNSC BB-761 Tempest, we have made indirect contact with the VIP. He is wanting to negotiate the terms of his release on his own, and I trust him on this point,” a different Captain said.

“What are saying, Bill? Was Joe taken prisoner?” Evans replied.

“I am not certain on that, but it is inferred,” Capt. Bill responded.

“Any additional intel you can give us on this?” Evans requested.

“Situation developing,” Bill responded.

In the bedchambers, Joe had finished his reintroduction. “I hope that we can forget the hardships of the past, so that we may look forward to the future. We must remember our mistakes, both of us, so that we can learn from them,” Joe said.

“I still have my project on foreign organisms to do, and I can think of no better example,” Twilight urged.

“Fair enough, I believe I reacted a little too harshly to you. You are pardoned of all crimes you may have committed,” Celestia arbitrated.

“Thank you,” Joe and Twilight said simultaneously.

“Princess Luna, I must thank you for your efforts pertaining to the moon. The moon has inspired me and mankind from time to time. We actually set foot on the moon almost 600 years ago, and since then spaceflight has always captivated humanity. Thank you... for your perseverance when the appreciation of your labor was doubted. I never have gotten tired of stargazing, something that would be impossible without the night.” Joe said.

“Thank you for your appreciation of the night,” Luna responded.

“I have to report in to the Victory, I've been missing for several days now. I'll see you later,” Joe gave his departing words, and started rappelling down the castle again. On the ground, Joe radioed for the Rookie, “Rookie, care to give me directions to the battleship that the Victory dropped?”

“Head to the Northwest, they're in the harbor nearby,” the Rookie responded, nearing bingo fuel, “Bingo fuel, headed for home,” he added.

“Get some rest, you've earned it,” Joe said as he headed toward the nearby harbor.

Chapter 10: Boarding Action

The gunship lumbered forward, the wartorn moon three thousand feet below. A hail of unfriendly projectiles moved to contest the skies. “Triple A!” the copilot screamed. Holes perforated the hull and useless wings of the great grey giant.

“Entering orbit; fire at targets of opportunity,” the pilot radioed to the gunnery teams.

The ship shuttered with every shell sent, and it bucked with every hit taken. Joe looked through the window to his left. Joe was checking the pulse-jets due to one of them falling behind on thrust. What he saw was something worse than a bad engine.

“Griffon boarding parties! On the exterior; they're tearing her apart,” Joe radioed to the crew. Grabbing an SMG and slinging his Spartan Laser across his back, Joe shot out the window he was looking through moments before.

Climbing through the broken glass, Joe moved to challenge the defectors. The griffons were armored similarly to some of the Changelings from before, only the griffon's helmets were vacuum sealed instead.

The nearest hostile charged at the ODST, bringing its claws to bear. A short burst quelled this threat, but the gunship rocked as one of its engines quit out. The copilot lessened the demand on the opposite engines, keeping the craft airborne. “This is going to be a long night...” Joe said, regaining his footing.

Epilogue

A sharp pain pierced the soldier's flesh. An ever present cold forced a shutter. Joe awoke, eyes wide, but vision as though they were still closed. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, dark room, a repulsive flavor greeted his tongue. Coughing the wretched cryogenic fluid out of his system, the soldier lifted the lid off of the cold cylinder. As he fled the cold tomb, the pains in his arms were lifted from him. The groggy soldier walked forward, charred armor creaking in protest to the sudden movement. He reached for a nearby novel on a shelf, but his reading abilities alluded him. He took in his surroundings, survival instincts taking charge. He found himself in a wooden room, with no windows, and only one exit; a staircase toward the back. The survivalist shambled toward the staircase; his only means of exfiltration. Collapsing at the third step, Joe crawled up the obstacle, his muscles screaming “exhaustion” and “pain”. Once at the door residing atop the monumental challenge, the soldier pushed the structure open with all his might. The small door barely opened enough for the fatigued man to walk through. The newfound light beyond the threshold blinded him. Darkness greeted his vision once more. Joe took two more steps forward, hearing a muffled and inaudible conversation, before he completely collapsed once again. The darkness of his vision slowly spread into his mind. He felt his body shift, but he felt nothing more afterwords. He was numb to his senses, but his thoughts had one last thing to say: Am I alive? He did not know.

THE END ?

Author's Note

Subtle hints are the seeds to all great twists.