Down the Road of Midnight

Chapters

Chapter 1: Arrival
Chapter 2: Burn
Chapter 3: Summer
Chapter 4: Raven
Chapter 5: Requiem
Chapter 6: Loss
Chapter 7: Hurt
Chapter 8: Family
Chapter 9: Krov'
Chapter 10: Fight
Chapter 11: Road
Chapter 12: Glasses (Part 1)
Chapter 13: Glasses (Part 2)
Prologue: From Cannons to Computers

Chapter 1: Arrival

Chapter 1: Crash

My eyes opened with the speed of a snail as the alarm clock grated on my eardrums with it’s horrid electronic squawk, disturbing my slumber. I reached my hand over to the nightstand, slamming my palm on buttons until the ringing stopped.

Slowly, my vision cleared out the haze of sleep, bringing window above my nightstand into focus. Celestia’s sun shone brightly through the glass window and the open, white plastic blinds.I could hear the city bustle with activity, carriages’ engines humming, and ponies chattering, all the way up in my fifth story room in apartment #502. It was the second of ten apartments, on the fifth floor of the R and R Tower, opened by Filthy Rich and his younger brother, Richie Rich. My mother, father, and I have been living here in Manehattan for about… four years. The rest of my life I had lived in the small town of Ponyville, but moved when my dad got a better job here.I cast aside my red blanket and white sheet, yawning as I stretched my arms and legs while still lying down. Smacking my lips, I threw my legs over the side of the bed, hooves not reaching all the way to the floor. Using my arms to propel myself with a small hop, I stood up, clad in two-tone green, plaid sweatpants, and a dark, solid brown shirt.Moving over to my dresser, I pulled out my clothes for the day. A pink shirt that read “Girlz rule and Boyz drool,” purposely misspelled in bold, black lettering across the front, and a pair of simple blue jeans.After a quick change, I exited my small room through a pine colored, wooden door. My room led out into the apartment’s living room where tan carpeting and white walls, decorated with family photos, greeted me.I strolled over to the dark wooden coffee table next to our couch and looked at it. The newspaper and porcelain mug of black, steaming coffee, sitting on its respective white saucer, was the coffee table’s usual morning decoration. Both a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper were part of my dad’s morning ritual before work. His absence on the couch led me to believe he could be in only one other room… the bathroom.And just like that, I heard the single toilet in the apartment flush. Moments later, a large stallion with crimson hair and tail, dressed in firmly pressed black slacks and blue button-up overshirt came out, struggling to get his red and blue striped tie centered just right on his chest.“Morning, Sprout,” my father, Cloudy Day said, using my pet name.“Dad,” I grumbled as I rolled my eyes, “I’ll be seventeen in a few more weeks; you can quit calling me Sprout.”My dad wrapped his left arm around me and pulled me close, using his right hand to give me a noogie, utterly messing up my already bedraggled hair. “Listen here and listen good,” He commanded in a joking tone, “I’m your father. You will always be Sprout in my eyes.”He finally let go, but I wanted something more. “I know Dad. I love you,” I said, pulling my father close for a hug. Then, I got revenge for the noogie by yanking his tie askew.My father let out a laugh as he tried to fix his tie again, “Love you too, Sprout,” he told me lovingly with a cheesy smile, “Now what would you like for breakfast?”“Pancakes,” I squealed out like a filly, blushing at the way my voice had sounded just then. Since I was a late bloomer, I had hit puberty just a little under three years ago, around a month before my fourteenth birthday, and my voice still loved to crack up at the most inopportune times. Giggling as my blush deepened, I asked my dad, in my non-squeaky voice, “Doesn't Mom usually cook us breakfast?”My dad laughed, “She does, but today she had an early appointment with Doctor Styles. I’m afraid after I leave for work, you’ll be stuck here by yourself.”“I’m not a kid anymore, I can handle being alone,” I declared, crossing my arms and trying to act tough, “You both have been gone long periods of time before.” In hindsight, I realize that crossing my arms made me look like a pouting filly.Nodding in agreement, my dad left for the kitchen. I, however, left to comb my messy hair and tail. As I prepared myself for the day, the sound of sizzling batter and pancakes wafted through the bathroom air vent above her head, prompting me to hurry up.Once finished, I raced from the bathroom and quickly sat down at my seat at the square table in the kitchen. As I waited for the food, I saw my dad spin around in front of the stove, wearing mother's apron. The flower print caused him to look utterly ridiculous. He was carrying two plates of pancakes which had three in a stack on each, topped with whipped cream and blueberries, my favorite.“Thanks, Dad,” I said. Dad then sashayed to our apartment’s simple white fridge - decorated with magnets holding up crude crayon drawings I had made when I was a lot younger. Then he retrieved a plastic jug of orange juice, and one cup from a cabinet over the messy counter - Dad had his cup of coffee sitting patiently by his plate.After pouring me a tall glass of orange juice, he set the jug on the table in case I wanted more. Dad set it down right next to the bottle of syrup he must of had put on the table while I was combing my hair. Sitting down, he bowed his head and said a short blessing.We didn’t speak as we ate, Dad had to hurry to get to work. Scarfing down his pancakes, he said a quick goodbye, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I blushed and groaned from the unwanted sign of affection. I was getting too grown-up for kisses.After my dad left, I went back to my room, grabbed my cellphone and the pink wallet that Mom had given me, my apartment key, and left a note on the table of the time when I left, when I expected to be back, and where I went. It was a rule I had to follow every time I left the apartment. Exiting into the hallway that was just wide enough for two ponies to pass by without bumping, I made my way briskly to the elevator, entered, and pressed the ground floor button. That took me to the lobby.As I walked through the near empty room, I waved goodbye to Hoofstrong. The old stallion was in his wheelchair by the door. He gave me a quick nod, a smile spreading across his wrinkled face. Hoofstrong always shared the best stories with me about his time in the Equestrian Navy, aboard the Celestia Class Battleship, H.M.S. Helios. Leaving the apartment building, I began walking the streets I knew like the back of my hand, listening in on conversations of those I walked behind. Sure it was impolite, but oblivious ponies say the stupidest things.After following behind two mares who were gossiping about stallions, I made it to the place I wanted to go: Pony Joe’s Cafe. It was a modestly sized diner that served coffee, donuts, fried food, and most importantly… hot herbal tea. I licked my lips in anticipation of a cup of blueberry goodness.Entering the restaurant, I glanced around the diner as ponies chatted with each other, taking a deep sniff of the strong scent of coffee and food. Setting my gaze on the far end of the diner, I picked a booth sitting in the far corner. It was usually where I sat when I came here.Right after I sat down at the booth, a waitress came by, a bright smile on her face. Her eyes however, betrayed barely hidden contempt for me. Crap, I knew this mare. “Hey Stargazer, you still a jobless bum?” The green haired mare asked me with a sneer.Taking my order was one of the most annoying unicorns ever: Misty Mint. I couldn’t seem to shake her, anywhere I went. School, stores, apparently here.“Do I need to speak to your manager, or are you going to stop insulting me and take my order?” I said with a hiss.Minty rolled her eyes, “It was a simple question, you don’t have to be a crybaby over it.”One time… one time I had lost it and cried in class, and suddenly I’m a big wuss. Being the better mare, I gave a half-hearted smile and feinted friendliness, “I’ll have a mug of your non-poisoned blueberry tea.” Her retort was interrupted by a loud boom overhead. I gasped in shock at the noise and quickly got up from my seat to run to the door to look outside. Once the hot and humid city air greeted me, I looked up and my red eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets in surprise.High up above the city, heading towards the other side of Manehattan, was a massive burning hulk of grey metal. What looked like missiles firing out the side, making their way towards the ground.I realized then and there that my whole day had just got a whole lot more interesting after one of the ‘missiles’ sailed over the diner, crashing hard down onto the pavement, sliding nine meters across the asphalt road, before slamming hard into the wall of a building across the street. I had to shield my face as rubble and cracked pavement pelted my skin, but when the sound of screeching metal stopped, I looked at what landed.It wasn’t a missile, that was for sure. It looked kinda like a small, grey-painted spaceship. Running up to it, my shirt was grabbed by Misty.I was surprised by the mare and I turned to take a swing at the nuisance, “What the Tartarus, Misty!?”She caught my relatively slow punch with a grunt and and shook her head, “You idiot, that thing just fell from the sky. There’s no telling what it will do!” That’s when the back of the small spaceship opened with a loud hiss of compressed air, causing Minty to let my hand and shirt go. Looking towards the craft a creature that had the upper body of a pony - but definitely not the lower - exited the craft. Misty and I almost jumped in shock at the creature. I didn’t see Misty’s face, but my expression was nothing but awe from the concept of meeting an actual alien. He - I was guessing it was a he - was black like a zebra, and had a large cigar in his mouth, along with dark shades over his eyes as he stepped out, dressed head to toe in green armor. Five more of the creatures filed out of the ship, all dressed in similar armor and carrying guns. His shoulder displayed Sergeant Major stripes, and his breastplate had a patch with the name ‘Johnson’ sewn to it.He then caught sight of us, jerked as if struck by something, then pulled a pistol from a holster on his side, the other soldiers aiming their rifles, but unlike the others he didn’t take aim. “What the hell are you?” He demanded in a grizzled tone, ash falling from his cigar as he seemed to judge our movements.Misty looked like she was slapped by the question. “Excuse me!?” She snapped.Stupid question for military aliens with guns Misty, please don’t get me killed.The Sergeant Major let out a grunt before saying, “From the horn coming out of your head, I know you aren't human. So you best tell me what you are before I give you a bellyful of lead, and a pool of your own blood to drown in.”With that threat, I decided to take the diplomatic and hopefully less get-me-killed route of answering the question. “I’m an earth pony, and Mint here is a unicorn.”The soldiers let out a nervous chuckle, but didn’t lower their weapons. I could see Misty was getting nervous at having a weapon pointed at her, and honestly, I was to. The Sergeant Major looked to me, his face betraying no emotion as he spoke in an even tone, “Well now, since you haven’t shot plasma at us yet and can speak perfect English, can you tell me where we just landed?”“Manehattan, Equestria, on the planet Equus.” I answered quickly in hopes of being rewarded with not having weapons pointed at me.My hopes were ruined as more and more ponies began to inspect the crash scene, causing the soldiers to get antsy, aiming their weapons from target to target like we meant them harm. The Sergeant Major turned his head to the five others behind him, “Lower your weapons, they aren’t Covenant.”A soldier with the rank of Corporal on his sleeve spoke up, “How do we know. These may be Elite females. Note to everyone: look at their legs.”For some reason unknown to me, the Sergeant Major chuckled, “You ever read any Greek mythology? There’s a species called satyrs, which have the upper body of men but the lower half of another animal. Most records say goats. Even she said she was a unicorn.”That seemed to mollify the Corporal, who lowered his weapon further towards the ground, and a Private First Class chuckled, “Never took you for a book reader, Sarge.” I looked at the name tag on his chest armor: Mets.Sergeant Major Johnson shrugged, “When recovering from a wound in medical, I had to read something.”There was a muffled boom and a loud splash of water off in the distance in the direction of Manehattan Harbor. The Sergeant Major took a long draw of his cigar, “I bet each and every one of you marines a week of my rations and half a Sweet Williams that Captain Keyes survived that.” He then turned to look at me, “So, is there some sort of authority I can speak to?”Minty started backing away, “There’s Celestia, now goodbye!” She said rapidly before disappearing in a mint-green flash of teleportation magic.Oh yay, more guns pointed at me. I was saved from questioning about what happened to Misty when one of the soldiers starting gasping for air, dropped a few shades of color, and fell over. That distracted the other soldiers, and I finally realized how beat up they were. Some of them were bleeding badly - like the one on the ground - and all of them had bruises showing on their skin.“Marcus you okay ya bloody Irishman?” Mets asked, kneeling down to assist the soldier whose nametag read: O’Neill.“J-just peachy,” the private said with an odd accent as Mets looked at a bleeding wound on his side.“You have wounded?” I asked, concerned. They may be aliens, but they were hurt... badly at that.“The pilot and two others died on impact; the rest of us got banged up pretty bad.” PFC Mets replied as another soldier fetched a first aid kit from inside the craft. Moving to take a closer look inside the darkened vessel, I saw two bodies sitting limply in seats, a third with a strange helmet splayed out on the metal floor.Ignoring the bodies, I moved to kneel by O'Neill, the other soldiers confused at what exactly to do with my approach, and I tried to crack a joke. “And I was threatening enough you had to tough it out and point guns at me?” I asked with a sarcastic smirk as I knelt down to check the injury. I winced at the wound on Private O’Neill’s side; a bone-deep gash on his side was practically dripping with blood. He must have been running on pure adrenalin before he fell.I wasn’t able to get a reply as the soldier who fetched the first aid kit jammed a thick metal needle connected to a green can into O’Neill’s wound. White foam began to seep out the wound as O’Neill screamed in pain and grabbed my hand in a grip so tight I heard pops.What in the name of Tartarus kind of medical treatment was that?As fast as he had grabbed my hand with bone crushing intent, O’Neill relented, a sigh passing his lips. The foam that seeped from his wound had hardened, making a sort of wound-fitting bandage. From the relaxed expression of O’Neill, the foam was no doubt drugged with painkillers.I looked to the Sergeant Major, who had a finger pressed to his ear, “Foehammer, you in the air?”There was the faintest of sounds coming from the earpiece he wore over his right ear, the military cap having no place to mount an integrated communicator, like our soldiers possessed. Even the Royal Guard of Princess Celestia, in their archaic armor, still had communicators built into their helmets. The Sergeant continued, “We require immediate medical-evac. One severely wounded, and three dead from the crash. The rest of us are battered, but it’s mostly bruises and whiplash.”Mets gave a chuckle, “I’ve just realized this. You’re the first alien who hasn’t tried to kill me yet.”“So sorry to disappoint,” I joked, getting a weak laugh from O’Neill whose hand I still held.“Dammit, Foehammer, what do you mean no possibility!?” I overheard the Sergeant Major yell.After a few annoyed grunts and curses, the Sergeant Major spoke up, “Listen up, roughnecks, medevac ain’t coming. With the Pillar in the water, and multiple escape pods in worse shape than us, we gotta’ hump it ourselves to a rendezvous two klicks west. Check your HUD markers.”The Sergeant Major then pulled out a device from his pocket. It looked like an earpiece, but instead of a microphone, it looked like a tiny, green colored screen designed to cover one eye. All the other ‘roughnecks’ had one, and I could see a tiny blue light displayed on theirs.“We are moving out, Marines, grab tags off the three in there and haul ass. That’s an order.”“What about O’Neill?” I asked, letting go of his hand. “He has a laceration running across his side deep enough I could see bone… you’re not going to try and move him are you?”Sergeant Major Johnson sighed, “Ma’am, we got a bird in the sky that won’t land for us. Either we disobey orders and stay here, or we hump it two kilometers in that direction.” He finished with a point towards the direction of Silver Park, a square half kilometer by half kilometer patch of green land dedicated to nature. Lots of trees and surrounded by a high brick wall. My guess was that they wanted the spot because it would be a perfect place to defend if needed.Not even an hour in Equestria and they’re already planning for a shootout. Wanting to keep the peace between us, I made a snap decision, “I could get you lift. The Pegasi can pull wagons behind them.” I omitted ‘those cheating bastards’ from the rest of that sentence.That got a laugh from the soldiers, PFC Mets saying in between snorts, “So wait, you have unicorns and pegasuses?”“Pegasi,” I corrected for him, “And yes, we do. Is there some reason that’s funny? Because this isn’t a time to laugh. I bet that foam in O’Neill’s wound won’t make it half a kilometer, and you’d have to send another one of your stallions back to his mother in a box.”O’Neill let out a wheezing cough, “She’s right, I can feel the wound starting to re-open already.”Sergeant Major Johnson put his finger to the earpiece again, “Foehammer, we have one critically wounded soldier. Moving him will kill him, so I’m requesting a medevac.”From the string of curses that flowed out the Sergeant Major’s mouth, I could tell he was denied again.“Foehammer, are there any other birds up there?” From the shake of his head, I guessed that was a no. With a groan he wiped the sweat off his brow as he asked, “Maybe a civilian doctor will suffice?” There was a pause as he received an answer, “Yes, I know they’re not human, but I would rather trust them and they turn on us than be a bigot and let a good man die when I could have done something. I hate the Covies as much as any other Marine, but they aren’t Covies.”“How can you tell?” I asked no one in particular.O’Neill let out a wet cough and a string of wheezes that imitated laughter, “Lack of purple metal used for everything, lass. Plus, you didn’t shoot us on sight, and speak fluent English, rather than yell death threats and swears.”Sergeant Major Johnson tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to turn. “Can you get O’Neill some proper medical attention?”I nodded, waving over a pegasus onlooker. When the stallion was close, I gave an order like my Drill Sergeant in the JROTC – Junior Recruit Officer Training Corps. “I need you to gather a few pegasi and some rickshaws. Take them to Silver Park.”“Why should I listen to you!?” He snapped as he began to turn to get away from the Marines.I don’t get paid enough to deal with assholes. I clenched my fist, and looked him right in the eyes. “I’m trying to keep the peace between species here, any way I can. Now, would you kindly follow a simple request, while I save a wounded soldier's life?” I may have let my Manehattan accent slip to the surface to get my point across.That got him to nod his head and ask around the crowd. In moments, we already had a pegasi pulled wagon, the Marines staring in amazement as a single pegasus stallion pulled the wooden construct aloft through the air like it was nothing. Meanwhile Sergeant Major Johnson looked into my eyes sternly, “Get my man to the hospital as quick as you can.” He then looked to O’Neill, “Keep your IFF tracker on. We’ll find you after we sort this mess out.”O’Neill nodded, reaching out with his hand to be helped off of the ground where he fell. I helped him to his feet, and he handed his assault rifle to another soldier, but kept his pistol.As the other soldiers began to run in formation away from the escape pod, I draped one of O’Neill’s arms over my shoulder and began to carry him. He let out a chuckle, “You’re mighty strong to be such a young lass.”I guess he could gage my strength since I was currently helping hold him up. “I’m an earth pony. Unicorns and pegasi may cheat with magic, but when it comes to sheer strength, we’re the right species for the job.”O’Neill’s pale face looked confused, “Species?”“You’re not the weirdest looking species I’ve met. The griffons who live up in the mountains have heads that resemble eagles, and their entire body is covered by fur and feathers.”“Griffons, as well as pegasi and unicorns that resemble satyrs, it’s like this world is from some mythology textbook.”Now it was my turn to give a confused look. Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “Mythology? I can assure you I’m very much real.”He chuckled, smiling lightly, “I can see that.” O’Neill then gave a grunt of pain, “Lass, wouldn’t it be faster to get one of them pegasi?”If I wasn’t holding up O’Neill, I would have facepalmed, “That would be better.”Looking around, I saw ponies staring at us with stunned expressions, their faces reading curiosity, and possibly, a few hints of fear. I didn’t blame them; the pistol on O’Neill’s hip looked like it could take down a full grown dragon.I waved down a pegasus pulling a taxi rickshaw. When the pegasus driver landed, he jerked his head in shock as he asked, “Is that one of the aliens?”I nodded, “Yes, and he’s hurt bad. We’ve got to get him to the nearest hospital, can you take us? I have money.”At the pegasus’ signal to board, I helped O’Neill into the rickshaw, taking a seat beside him. The driver saw we were buckled in and yelled as he took flight, “Next stop, Manehattan General!” Then added in a lower voice, “We should be there in five minutes.”O’Neill gave a weak laugh through a wheeze as we gained altitude, “Well I’ll be damned; this beats riding in a Pelican.”Wait… what? “A Pelican? Aren’t those some type of seabird?”Before O’Neill could answer me, the pegasi driver had to bank to let a large, green craft propelled by engines spouting blue flame race by towards a column of smoke in the distance. Guess one of the little ships started a fire.“That, was a Pelican.” O’Neill said simply.Why did I get the sudden feeling that I would be seeing a lot more of them soon?

Chapter 2: Burn

Chapter 2: Welcome

The pegasus cab driver brought us to Manehattan General in what felt like record time. The large four story complex near the city’s center was spared being hit by an escape craft by what appeared to be just a meter’s width. The craft itself, empty of all passengers, had toppled a tree like a flaming lumberjack near the road that led to the hospital’s main entrance.

When we landed, I quickly paid the driver a few paper bills, worth ten bits, and helped O’Neill off of the rickshaw taxi. He gave a few weak grunts as I steadied him, and together, we hobbled towards the front door. The street was empty; everypony else was inside the hospital, or had gone elsewhere when the occupants left the crash site.Before we could enter, two security guards, one stallion and one mare, both in blue and black riot armor, aimed their shotguns at the human I carried. “Halt!” the stallion shouted loud enough that spittle flew from under the face shield attached to his helmet.The mare lowered her shotgun slightly, seeing the gash on O’Neill. “Strong Shield, he’s injured,” The mare said as she looked towards us with a frown. “How bad are you hurt?” The mare asked, her bright orange eyes pools of concern for the human. It was a bit surprising, since not a second earlier, she had pointed her weapon at us.“Took a spike rifle round before the drop,” O’Neill said, taking many deep breaths, “Brute nearly got me.”Wait…what, did he say? “You were shot?” I asked quickly with a gasp, staring at him incredulously. “I thought you got that in the crash.”“Nope,” he grunted, “Boarding party. I was surprised they sent a few Brutes with the Elites. You never see them fighting alongside each other.”Okay, he better explain a little more. “Brutes, Elites?” I questioned with a confused expression, “You’re not making any sense, O’Neill.” “Tell your stories later, after you get out of my sight,” Strong Shield ordered abruptly. I had no idea why he was being so hostile. These aliens had only just arrived a little while ago, and they seemed like they’d think before they fired. “Your kind have caused enough injuries by falling on us, and your buddies started taking shots at my friends.”Oh, that’s why. Armed aliens meeting armed police, that’s definitely not a stable mixture.The second guard, the mare, spoke again, taking a few steps forward, “Shield, he’s hurt and it’s not an officer’s job to decide who gets medical attention here.”Strong Shield gave an annoyed grunt and walked past us, intentionally bumping shoulders with O’Neill, who just let out a weak ‘oomph’. I turned to see the stallion pull out a small package of cigarettes before the mare came out and took O’Neill’s other arm over her shoulder.The mare spoke in a firm, yet gentle tone. It was hard to describe how she could be both rough and nice as she spoke to me, but she did. “Sorry about him,” she apologized as we walked forward towards the front doors, “Shield’s brother was shot by one of the aliens. ‘Humans’ is what I think you call yourselves. Luckily, the bullet just grazed him. Others weren’t so lucky. Some humans were nice, like the one with you and the one’s that crashed outside, but other humans opened fire against the police.” She gave a humorless laugh, “If I’m not mistaken, I think we started shooting first. All it takes is one jumpy rookie to mess things up.”My mind began to wonder away from their conversation, and a realization hit me. The wounded soldiers and burning ship led me to conclude one thing, “O’Neill, the brutes and elites you were talking about, are they some sort of army you are fighting?”Before a nurse took the arm I held over her shoulder, he said three words that rattled in my mind like a feral dog in a cage, “Yeah, the Covenant.” Something about that last word didn’t sit right with me.I couldn’t speak to him after he said that, as another nurse got in my way. It was a unicorn mare, her scarlet mane and tail disheveled, while her dark red eyes were accompanied with heavy bags. ‘Sanguineous’ was the name displayed on her tag.She looked at O’Neill and grunted, and at first glance, I could tell she was going to be slightly bitchy. Her voice and her looks hinted that she was exhausted, and like I had thought before, she had an attitude to confirm it. Looking between the both of us, she said in a very unfriendly, almost hostile tone, “I’ll keep this simple and tell you both that we won’t be keeping him here.” Looking directly at O’Neill, she scowled, “Legally, I can't refuse you service, but all I will do is patch you up. Don’t go expecting a bed and some rest. I don’t care if you look a lot like us; we’re getting bullet holes in good officers. Officers I have to stay with and dig lead out of.”Without letting me get a word in edgewise, the angry nurse left, allowing the original nurse to help O’Neill to the emergency ward.For five minutes, I sat in the lobby on a chair and read a magazine. I was only skimming it, my mind elsewhere with everything that had been happening. When the time came, I used the remaining thirty bits worth of bills in my wallet to pay for O’Neill’s treatment. When he emerged from a door leading further into the hospital from the lobby, his side showed a bright pink scar of discolored flesh where his armor was torn.I quickly put the magazine down and got up from my seat, almost running up to him. “How are you?” I was concerned for him, though I had no reason to be, since I had just met him. Call me gentle hearted, but I hate seeing others in pain.“Fine, lass, I’m just a little weak from blood loss. I can walk.” He gave me a reassuring smile, but his body was shaking trying to hold himself on his two hooves--feet, they were feet like a dragon’s.“No, you’re not,” I stated sternly with a frown. Humans must have been as stubborn as earth ponies. I took his left arm over my shoulder once again and began to support his weight.O’Neill sighed as he reluctantly let me help him, “What now, lass?”I had no clue, so I improvised, “Midnight, Midnight Stargazer. That’s my name. I don’t think I properly introduced myself earlier. Also, you can just call me Night, or Star.”He gave a weak smile, reaching out his right hand for a handshake, although it was shaking badly, “Private O’Neill, Daniel O’Neill.”With my free hand, I shook his, and after releasing it, I sighed tiredly, “Mom’s gonna be pissed when I bring home an alien stallion.”O’Neill gave a light laugh at my joke, “Oh, why’s that, lass?” He asked as we began heading towards the automatic-sliding doors leading out of the hospital.“Because she’s overprotective of me,” I sighed, groaning a little afterwards as we entered the streets. They were still relatively empty, but I could easily hear gunfire in the distance. It felt really out of place with what I was used to hearing. “Seriously, I can’t go anywhere on my own without leaving a note, and if I’m interested in a colt, guess what?” I didn’t let O’Neill answer, “That’s right, not gonna get to go to his place.” Actually, I would have to find a colt who was in to me in the first place.O’Neill laughed as we walked down the street, “She doesn’t have to worry about me, I’m not interested in other species… and how old are you? You’re about as tall as I am, which last time I checked was around five and a half feet; but you sound young.”“Blame me for being a late bloomer, as well as my earth pony genes. Also, I’m almost seventeen. What about you?”“I’m twenty-three,” O’Neill paused for a second then asked, “So, you from this city, or did you move here?”“Ponyville, originally,” I answered, staring off into space as I spoke, “It’s a small town around eighty kilometers from here. We had to move on account of my dad getting a better job here. What about you?”He laughed, “Fourteenth generation farmer from Ireland. My dear old mother didn’t want me to join the Marines and fight the Covenant, but I didn’t listen. Five years later, here I am.”That was pretty interesting, but I had another question I wanted to ask, “So, how did you humans get here?”He shrugged, “Other than the Pillar of Autumn, don’t know. Last I checked I was preparing to board a strange ship the Covenant had found.” He gave an almost happy chuckle, “Then things started exploding, and I was fighting boarding parties to reach an escape pod.”“Whoa,” I said excitedly, gazing at him with slight awe, “that must have been scary.”O’Neill just shrugged, “The ride down was the worst part. Wait, I take that back, the landing was,” he said as he moved his free hand downwards while whistling, before making an explosion sound.Yikes.We continued on silently for a while longer, the rest of the city seemed to be faring worse, especially when we rounded the corner of the street. Looters had smashed shop windows, trash cans were on fire, and even one pony decided to spray a large red ‘A’ inside a circle on the street-facing wall of Pony Joe’s Cafe.O’Neill observed the chaos surrounding us, the yells of other ponies reaching my ears as police sirens wailed in the distance. “Damn,” was the only word I could hear him whisper out of his lips.I chuckled a bit, keeping a watchful eye for anypony that may try to attack us for chump change. “Ponies overreact to everything,” I explained, “You should have seen the riot when Discord flipped Ponyville out of whack. It was so bad, Celestia had to get the military down here.” <~-~>By the time we were nearing my apartment, O’Neill groaned as he shifted his arm, “I think I’m strong enough to move on my own.”I shook my head rapidly, “No way, O’Neill, you could pass out if you overtax yourself. It’s kinda a long way to drag you back to the hospital.”He sighed defeatedly and kept his arm over my shoulder, “Fine.”A few minutes into our walk, I caught him staring downwards - angling his head and eyes slightly at me - out the corner of my eye. When I faced him fully, he made sure to look away. “What are you looking at, O'Neill?” I asked.He gave a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. “Um, your legs,” he replied, smiling weakly.I groaned and rolled my eyes, “I swear, if your nose starts bleeding, I’m leaving you on the sidewalk with a sign that reads, ‘Free human, give to a good home.’” We both laughed, and after we settled down, I continued, “But where on Equus would I get a cardboard box large enough to fit you?”O’Neill shrugged, “Don’t know, lass.”I continued my statement right where I left off, my amused expression changing to a mask of seriousness, “But seriously, why are you staring at my legs?”O’Neill looked straight forward, an embarrassed pink coloring his cheeks from what I was implying, “I just realized they bend just like the legs of the Elites.”So the Covenant - or at least these ‘Elites’ - were digitigrades, like us, not plantigrades. Thank you, highschool Biology and your long vocabulary words.I saw R&R Tower poking out through the gaps between two other towers. Guess it’s time to get O’Neill back to the apartment and freak mom out… then nearly give her a heart attack when his buddies come to get him.Well I would have, but a loud sound, almost like the roaring of flames, caught my attention. When I looked up, I saw a gray and red flying triangle with big engines floating down from the sky.<~Requiem, right after jumping through space~>Smoke billowed from control panels as sparks flew around as sirens were wailing in shrill cries. The bridge of the Venator-class Star-Destroyer Requiem was in chaos. Captain Ronald Curtis was clutching his wounded side while barking orders to others on the bridge, his gray naval uniform stained with blood from the shrapnel wound he held.“CT-47790, I want a full damage report,” the Captain shouted to a Clone working at a sparking console as Curtis tried to smooth down his short, brown hair with his free hand. To the same Clone, he also asked, “Shield status?”The Clone - one of only six bridge crew members who weren’t on the floor or slumped in their chairs - nodded his head, manipulating the remaining controls at his damaged console. “Eight percent and holding, sir!” He gave a slight cough to clear his throat, “That battleship did a number on us. Fires on decks three through seven, the primary reactor is leaking. Decks one, two, and eight have vented atmosphere in compartments A, C, H, and L. Medical is overflowing with wounded.”Another Clone in a naval uniform reported from his console, a gash running down his face, blood no doubt getting into his left eye, “Captain, I’ve got a ship on scanners,” he blinked out red tears and winced in pain, “Scans show they’re running off some old tech… ancient compared to even most Outer Rim worlds.”The Captain nodded quickly, rising from his seat, as he began to get his damaged ship back in order, “Get fire control teams on the damaged decks, evacuate and seal the breached compartments. Activate auxiliary generators, cut fuel flow to the main reactor as well as vent what’s already in the reactor, and put the other ship on screen.”The lights of the bridge died and sputtered back to life as power was switched to emergency generators.CT-47790 shouted from his console, “It’s done, sir: reactor fuel vented with no fuel going in. The breached compartments are sealed off tight; and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unless we make repairs soon, emergency power won’t last us long.”Captain Curtis nodded in agreement, “Very well; and the other ship?”A different Clone responded from his half useless control panel, “Drifting towards the…” He muttered something in disbelief, “the planet, sir.”Curtis gave the Clone a disbelieving glare. “A planet?” the captain muttered in surprise, “I don’t believe there was one in this sector. That battle was right in the middle of open space, how far did we move?”“It’s hard to say with all the fried controls and corrupted sensor logs; but if I were to guess,” one could see the Clone roll his shoulders with a shrug, “quite a lot.”“Sir!” The Clone at the scanners called out, making the captain whip over to face him, “I’m detecting heavy damage to their systems as well as several explosive detonations on board. Antimatter in origin. I think their going in for a hard landing on the planet.”The Captain gave a sigh, “Very well. Get a team to jury rig a patch job on the reactor, I want to see if we can rescue any survivors if they keep their course towards the planet.”The Clone cave a nod, “Aye sir, and one more thing. I don’t know if it’s a glitch, or if my sensors are fried from the firefight, but that sun and moon are travelling around a planet that doesn't spin.”<~Back on Equus~>Dozens of white and red, boxy shaped aircraft with wings began to fly out the side of the massive ship. It didn’t take me long to notice how each one was heading towards a different one of the multiple crash sites of escape pods.The tell-tale crackle of static reached my ears, coming from O’Neill’s headset. The human stallion looked up, then weakly pressed a finger to his ear, “Yes, Sergeant Major, I’m on my way.” O’Neill released his hold on the communicator.Giving a deep sigh, O’Neill looked over to me, giving a ghost of a smile. But I saw no humor in his expression, only seriousness, “Lass, would ya take me to the others? We don’t rightly know who or what these people are, and we need to regroup.”That couldn’t be good.I ducked in shock as one of the ships flew over us, it’s engine making a loud, high-pitched hum as it slowed, turned ninety degrees, and landed across the street next to an alleyway with an obscene amount of rubble spilling from it. I could faintly see an escape pod in there, crushing a few dumpsters and covered in destroyed brick.The doors on the side of the white and red, box-shaped craft, slid open with a loud hiss of air. Several more humans, dressed head-to-foot in white armor with yellow accents, hopped out, brandishing black rifles in their hands, looking heavier than Tartarus. They all looked identical, with the only difference between them was the personalizations on their helmets, such as tally marks and odd symbols. Some sort of strange, silver colored floating robot accompanied them. I could see it had several medical looking appliances, like a syringe hand.Two of the soldiers spotted us and began to walk towards us, breaking away from the rest of the group. O’Neill reached for the massive pistol at his side, and in response, the two stopped suddenly and aimed their rifles at us, making me lock my muscles in the exact position they were in. I feared that the slightest twitch would get my head blown off.Could I get through one freaking hour without someone getting guns pointed at me?“Do you speak Galactic Basic?” The one on the right asked, his armor almost a perfect match to the soldier on the left.“If you mean Equish, then yes,” I responded, my voice trembling ever so slightly.The soldier on the left - who had what I could only guess was an alien girl’s face painted onto his helmet - spoke in a voice creepily similar to the one on the right. “Good,” he lowered his rifle slightly, “Let’s just put our weapons away, and try not to kill each other when we’re supposed to be aiding any crash survivors.” It was so hard to distinguish the two’s voices that I swore that under their helmets. They must have been twins. Or it could have just been them speaking through those white and yellow helmets with strange almost ‘T’ shaped glass visors.“Aiding us?” O’Neill asked, perplexed. “Just who in the bloody name of Hell are ya lads? You aren’t Covenant, but humanity does not posses tech that good.”Both of them exchanged looks, though I doubt they could tell each other’s expressions through the helmets. Looking back to us, they took turns spouting off ‘CT’ followed by a string of numbers, and near Equestrian sounding names: Waxer and Boil.The one with the alien girl painted onto his helmet - Waxer - removed it to show us a shaven head and rectangular strip of black hair under his bottom lip. He looked like humans and Equestrians face-wise, nothing like the green skinned girl painting. “What outfit you from?” Waxer asked, clearly to O’Neill who was in Gods know how much armor.“UNSC Marines, 5th platoon, 115th rifle company,” He responded in a near cadance like tone, solid and unwavering.Waxer seemed to be confused, but he didn’t ask O’Neill to explain, or maybe Boil spoke up before he could say anything by proclaiming in his own military demeanor, “212th attack battalion of the Grand Army of the Republic.”O’Neill began laughing, harder and harder until he started coughing.Boil removed his helmet, showing a face shaped exactly like Waxer’s, but with black hair and an arch-shaped goatee. Looking at O’Neill he asked, “What’s so funny?” His face shown a slight hint of anger towards the laughing and coughing O’NeillO’Neill stopped coughing and panted a few times to catch his breath, and once he did, he told the other soldiers, “That I’m standing here with other humans that are just as alien as the girl keeping me from ending up on my ass.”The twins - I guess they were twins from their voices and looks - chuckled, Waxer asking, “Where are the rest of the survivors? Or have they sought medical attention from… what planet are we on?”I groaned, rolling my eyes. What was I, the planet’s information center? “You’re on Equus. Seriously did they drop an entire army on us without gathering the first detail of the surface?”Waxer gave a humorous grunt, “Well, our ship was heavily damaged, but we knew we could breath down here, and that a ship we picked up on scanners went down on the surface. So, in order to evacuate our damaged ship, as well as help others, we did a blind drop.”I was only in the JROTC for a year and I have a better plan of action than that. Send scouts first before running headfirst into an unknown area. Good thing they kept out of griffon lands, since they tend to shoot at anything if it gives them half a reason to shoot. I imagine dropping in unannounced would be a big reason.Holding my comment in about incompetent commanders, I gave a smile and reached out a hand, “Welcome to Equus.”

Chapter 3: Summer

Chapter 3: Burn

The streets were full of panicking ponies. The arrival of yet another spaceship had caused a rekindling of mass hysteria. For me, I had a perfect view of the streets from my spot in the fancy box with wings, what Waxer and Boil called a LAAT Gunship. They offered O’Neill and I a ride in it to the park, where O’Neill’s sergeant was waiting. A free ride in an actual alien spaceship was worth the risk of abduction.

My head swiveled down to O’Neill as I heard him sigh. He was sitting with his legs precariously dangling out the side of the craft while I stood with the twenty or so other soldiers, my hand holding the handlebar above my head tight enough to whiten my knuckles.O’Neill let out a another heavy sigh, shaking his head miserably. I didn’t know what had him depressed, we were on a freaking spaceship with alien soldiers; I was happy. I often let my mouth run faster than my brain, so I asked without a second thought, “What is it?”His head spun to look at me, his eyes holding a hint of sadness. “Nothing,” he said defensively, but quickly looked down again while letting out yet another heavy sigh, “It’s just from up here it looks like the ground on Reach all over again. The only difference is that I’m the Covenant.”“Huh, what do you mean?” I asked, a few of the white-armored soldiers facing O’Neill as well.He shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”I saw how he was hurting, so I was going to say something to try and comfort him, but the words caught in my throat when Waxer tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to turn my attention to him. “Miss,” he said sternly, “can’t you see he has questions he rather not answer?”O’Neill let out a hurt laugh, facing Waxer with a forced smile. “And how would you know what I’ve gone through?” He asked with a wave of his left hand, since he was holding onto the sliding door of the Gunship with his right.Waxer shook his head, his voice not holding a hint of anger like I had anticipated. “I don’t,” he explained slowly, “But I’ve been in enough battles and seen enough scars to know when to tell someone to drop it.”O’Neill let out a loud sob, and I jerked my head back in surprise. “Reach is gone along with my father and two of my brothers,” he muttered, “It’s only a matter of time before Earth burns.”He looked hopeless, lost in thought with painful memories. I remained silent, following Waxer’s advice as we continued on. It didn’t take long after that before I felt the gut-clenching rapid deceleration and decent, forcing my eyes closed as the world spun. I was never one for roller coasters, and the ride was starting to feel like one. Luckily for my stomach, the park was directly below us, coming closer into view as we got lower. I snuck a peek at the ground below, noting that hundreds of other humans - wearing O’Neill’s armor - had gathered in the small park area, milling around with sodden crates covered with algae from the bay. I guess the splashdown in the water ruined most of their equipment.When we touched down, the engines powering off, I followed O’Neill out of the Gunship with the other white soldiers. The scene wasn’t so different from the sky, so I didn’t pay much attention. That is, until I saw one particular soldier. He was taller than anyone else around, wearing dark green armor with a yellow visor. He simply strolled by us, but he seemed to have an air of authority about him as everyone took a glance at him. Even O’Neill was pulled out of his funk as he stared at the strange soldier. “Is that what I think it is?” he gasped, his eyes glued to him.Waxer and Boil were just as transfixed, though a bit more perplexed. “It?” they asked in unison, looking to each other before facing the soldier again. The other soldiers in white armor that accompanied us also looked surprised at the titan in green armor. The soldier for his part, didn’t even react to the other stares, but he did give me a brief look, hardly missing a step before he walked away.O’Neill stared in wonder; hope shining in his expression. “A Spartan,” he said in awe, shaking his head, “I thought they all died on Reach. Humanity just may have a chance after all.”Even though I barely had the time to meet him, the voice of Sergeant Johnson was unmistakable, and it sounded like he was angry. “...And I’m tellin’ you, I’m not having some alien ordering my men around!”I looked at who he was talking to, seeing a short girl, most likely younger than me with a slightly annoyed expression. Her skin was bright orange, and instead of hair she had striped blue and white… tentacles? That’s what it looked like to me.“Sergeant, I mean no disrespect,” the girl said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Most of your men are injured, and I’m offering to help using resources that should be allocated to Republic troops only.”I could see the Sergeant grinding his teeth, barely holding back his true fury. “I’ve already sent one of my men to a civilian hospital,” he exclaimed, getting pretty close to the girls face, “Like hell I’m going to rely on any more outside help when we already have medics handling the situation.”From the pained expression on the men, the amount of bloodied hands, and metal cases of first aid kits with scattered canisters of foam, ‘Handling it’ wasn’t cutting it. Especially with all the waterlogged supplies.The girl let out a groan as she rubbed her forehead, “If you just put your stubbornness aside, we could save these men a lot of pain and trouble.”Sergeant Johnson looked around the collection of humans in non-white armor. With a defeated sigh and slump of his shoulders, he relented, “Fine. But if one of my men dies due to medical malpractice, I’ll see if your fancy medics can dig a bullet out your skull.” To back up his threat, the Spartan moved to stand beside the much shorter Sergeant, adding to the intimidation.The girl just closed her eyes and lifted her hand up, and before anybody knew it the Spartan was floating a few centimeters off the ground. It startled nearly everyone, except for the Spartan himself, who was strangely calm, white-armored troops, and myself. I had seen Unicorns use what she had enough times to roll my eyes at it.She had magic. Great.With a gasp, she dropped the Spartan to the ground, a startling loud thump resonated where he landed. A golden light dancing around his armor a moment before disappearing. “How heavy are you?” the girl gasped, panting as sweat beaded down her forehead.The Spartan spoke in a low, rumbling voice as he examined himself, looking for anything out of the ordinary, “Almost a thousand pounds. Don’t do that again.”Pounds, the Griffons were probably the only ones who used that system of measurement.The girl chuckled lightly and waved her hand, “Don’t worry, I’m not as strong as Master Kenobi or Anakin,” she jerked as if realization struck her, “And since both of them are back with the rest of the fleet, I’m currently the senior ranking officer.”A beeping sound came from a device on her wrist. She tapped one of its buttons, I heard the gumbles of an elderly officer, “On my way Captain.” Looking back to Sergeant Johnson, she sighed and shook her head, “I’m sorry, but I have business to attend to back on my ship.”She ran past us in a sprint, a strange feeling surrounding her as she effortlessly jumped into the spaceship I arrived in. After giving quick orders to the pilot, the engines powered back up and flew off at high speed, eventually disappearing into the sky.Waxer gave a laugh, “Ahsoka’s a good officer, but at times, her inexperience gets the better of her.”From her actions thus far, I could guess as much.The Sergeant sighed, facepalming at the departed girl known as Ahsoka. “This is going to be a long stay,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.O’Neill walked past me, his face wearing a smile as he gazed at the Spartan. O’Neill then turned back to face me, his smile faltering. “Guess this is goodbye,” he said with a shrug “I, like the rest of the guys here, have a lot of work to do.”I gave a nod of my head, “Goodbye then. Tell the other humans to play nice with the police, and the soldiers with the only working spaceship.”That managed to make O’Neill smile and chuckle before he left along with the other troops. I showed myself out, and was able navigate my way to the park’s exit. When I did, I beamed a large smile from my first encounter with life from beyond our galaxy’s stars. I wondered how long it would take until Princess Cele- a glint of gold in the sky caught my eye, and I turned towards it in curiosity.And there she was, Princess Celestia, flying through the sky in her royal chariot. Upon closer inspection, I could see Princess Luna sitting beside her. They weren’t hard to miss, as they stood taller than the average pony. Gold armored Solaris Guards flanking each side, as two Pegasi in dark grey Shadow Guard armor pulled the carriage through the air on leathery bat-like wings. It looked like there was a lot of big things about to go down, and I certainly didn’t want to miss it.Better get home and watch the news where it was safe, and I wouldn’t get guns pointed at my face.<>~<>~<>The humans from the United Nations Space Command - UNSC, as they were called - re-established connection with the rest of their species with the help of a ship called the Requiem. From what I could understand, the Requiem belonged to an entirely different group, calling themselves the Galactic Republic.Soon after, we had both the UNSC and the Galactic Republic visiting us by way of wormholes permanently open between galaxies. Well, a few were permanent, whereas most were randomly appearing and disappearing in the night sky as I watched through a telescope I set up on the roof. I could only describe their appearance as tears in space, a thin silver line with an absence of light surrounding it. Sort of like a black hole, with the silver line as the event horizon. Somehow, they were formed by accident, after a super-advanced alien ship blew up or something. I didn’t care; the Galactic Republic and UNSC soldiers were nice. The UNSC set up a few garrisons in the city, and warned us about the Covenant, all the while the Galactic Republic lent aid through Equus. We were basically the middle ground between the galaxies, since it seemed that an alien ship - the Forerunner was what that UNSC scientist called it - was the only thing that could make the long trip in one go without having to go through us first. The Galactic Republic sent Senators to us, and the UNSC sent their own representatives; the four Princesses and Discord presiding over the entire thing.Most if not all of the formalities and speeches about progress and unity between species and governments were televised. A few were even reported on by my father. It was strange not seeing him being blown over by bad weather on live TV.All of those talks were worth squat when the hammer finally dropped. After two months, The Covenant somehow made it to Equus, specifically over Manehattan, the purple ships’ engines drowning out the mournful wail of sirens as the few weapons Celestia allowed the humans to place fired skyward.And from that point on, everything went to Tartarus.<>~<>~<>I was watching television, resting on the couch when the alarms first blared. They were obnoxiously loud, and I ran over to the window, casting aside the blinds. My window was dominated by two of the large ships descending on the city like purple sharks of the air, swimming through the atmosphere ready to devour all in range. From all directions, legions of smaller craft emerged, zipping through the air.The Requiem arrived from the other side of the city. Bolts of blue light fired from cannons slamming into the invading ship, which responded in kind. Each of the ships’ shields flickered and danced as the two metal giants squared off, while small single-person spaceships flew from the Requiem’s hangars to battle with the smaller Covenant fighters. Eventually, my mother and father ran through the door, fear and panic on their faces.“Night, get away from there,” My father ordered firmly, but I was rooted in place by fear, totally unprepared for this. I never imagined that they would find us to deliver fire from the sky like the recordings that the humans recovered from the Pillar of Autumn’s cameras.I was propelled out of my daze when my dad grabbed my arm, but not before I saw two unlucky pegasi get slammed into by a small purple craft, knocked to the side in twisted shapes, mouths screaming in agony as they fell from the sky. Blue teardrop shaped fireballs launched from their front guns, chewing through what LAAT Gunships and Pelicans that had arrived to meet the threat. Each one was undoubtedly full of scared civilians. Evacuation routes had been planned for if this day ever came.It all reminded me of an old saying from Hoofstrong, ‘The best laid plans never survive contact with the enemy.’When my dad finally pulled me completely away from the window, he was both angry and scared, a mixture I had never seen before. “What did I just say?!” he exclaimed before dragging me to the hallway by my arm, my mother following behind with a terrified expression.It didn’t take long for us to run down the ten flights of stairs on nothing but fear and adrenalin. The occasional explosion hitting the tower made bits of sheetrock rain on top of us, and the sound of shattering glass was prominent.When we reached the street outside the building, the Requiem was falling from the sky in a burning hulk, crashing down hard in the center of the city with a near earthquake-like shake. It had already taken out one of the Covenant ships before it went down, and had damaged the other, but it wasn’t enough to keep that Covenant ship from spilling out different craft. These new ships were dull blue, fat and rounded, like a swarm of angry gluttonous beasts.I jerked in fright as I ran when the purple and green ships began strafing us with their guns. The few Humans nearby fired their assault rifles in vain at the sky, only to be cut down by the blue teardrops of plasma.As we ran from the blue bolts spewing from the guns on the smaller ships, one of the fat bluish ones hovered over us, causing us to stop in our tracks. Five aliens in gold armor jumped out, their mandible mouths open in a war cry as they landed in the streets with a variety of weapons in their hands. In a single moment, we were surrounded by both sides. From my scream of panic, it didn’t take long for one to notice us behind them, and with another battle cry, I was kicked in the chest by one of them with a massive foot, knocking the breath out of me as I tumbled to the ground.On the cracked street was where I lied on my stomach, panting for air. All thought in my brain was shutting down as I tried to concentrate, the area coming in and out of focus… no… no, no, no, noooo! Mom was stabbed through the chest by two prongs of blue flame, wielded by a Covenant alien. My father received a similar fate, as a different one stuck him through the gut, impaled in the air before the alien tossed him off the blue flaming blade as a child would a broken toy.By the time their bodies fell to the ground, I felt the weight of a foot on my shoulder, rolling me onto my back. The alien hovering over me with sword ready to plunge, I was so numb from the shock that I didn’t care if I died right then. I simply closed my eyes and waited, tears, brimming my eyes.However, Death never came for me; the pained grunt of the alien making me snap my eyes open. It was knocked away by a green fist of metal, sending it to the ground. A Celestia-sized titan in green armor had punched my attacker’s head so hard, it had whipped back with a pulpy crunch. The last Spartan had saved my life.The four other aliens were already dead, my parents were dead, all around us was death. The Spartan’s gold visor looked into my tear filled eyes, and in that deep voice, it spoke, “Move.”I didn’t hear him. My slain parents had me no longer seventeen, no, I was a scared little foal, curled into a ball while blubbering. I felt the Spartan pick me up, set me on my hooves, and in a loud order, he spoke again, “Move.”An sharp whine followed by a blue explosion behind the Spartan sent my world spinning into black.<>~<>~<>I awoke slowly, vision fading in and out as I stared at the smoke filled sky through a hole in the ceiling two or three meters above me. My body hurt, pain running up and down like a constant fire through my nerves. I could feel the dampness of sweat and blood mixing with dust, caking my skin and furred legs in a layer of filth.I was…somewhere. It took all my remaining strength in my battered body to will myself to move, grunting in pain as I leaned up. Arching walls and a tunnel greeted my vision. The sound of battle could still be heard; explosions, gunshots and energy weapons discharging, but it was all… distant.“Where am I?” I muttered weakly as my heart pounded faster and faster in my chest. Then events began to play back in my head, jumping around from event to event: the explosion knocking me out, the aliens, the Requiem crashing, my parents.I covered my eyes with my hands, a sob caused my body to spasm and hurt even more, “Gods, no… why…” The air was rank with a foul stench, like the rotten meat of a dead animal. I rolled to my side, coughed, gagged, and puked a little, all the while crying tears of heartache and misery.I gasped in shock when a Clone from the Galactic Republic fell down into the pit I found myself in with a pained grunt, his massive rifle clattering on the ground beside him. Hoof-long pink shards were embedded in the back of his white and orange armor like crystalline porcupine quills.From the barely clothed alien pinup on the side of his helmet, I realized that it was Cherry. He was the newest member in Waxer and Boil’s squad I had met not too long ago at the Republic garrison while visiting the two. The injured Clone rolled over, giving weak cries of pain as he pushed the shards in further, panting and gasping. Shakily, he pointed out the hole he fell from.“The sky’s falling,” he proclaimed, his arm going lifeless, falling with a heavy clatter of the scorched white armor.With all the death, I was relatively unaffected by him. I just sat there as I tried to catch my breath, but the kick from the alien and the impact with the sewer floor had left me winded.I suffered an injury like this before. It was an accident at the beach. I had wiped out trying to sand-surf on a boogie-board, the damn thing shooting out from under my hooves, sending me sprawled onto my back. I hurt for days afterwards; three cracked ribs, one broken.It was very similar circumstance, as I believed I had a few broken bones. As a result, even the act of breathing in and out was causing me pain, but I had to move. No telling when the aliens would find me.Slowly and laboriously, I crawled to the dead Clone, sitting up to a crouch as I tried to pick up his heavy blaster rifle. A DC-15 I think I had heard it called one time. No way was I going to move the heavy weapon. It took every bit of a Clone’s strength to manipulate the rifle, or so I was told by Waxer.The big boys never let me play with the cool toys at Flack and Shrapnel’s gun range.Looking around the room, I counted two more bodies lying in twisted positions, both UNSC Marines. A nice shiny pistol was still strapped in the holster of one Marine.Cherry’s helmet looked like it would fit me, and with the way my head was pounding, I knew I needed something to protect it. Pulling the helmet off the dead soldier, I respectfully closed the eyes that every Clone shared, sending a prayer to the Gods to watch over him.Placing the helmet over my head, the built in headset flooded my ears with messages, a Clone, most likely a Pilot of a Gunship yelling, “That Banshee’s right on our tail, I can’t shake him!”Another soldier, this one sounding like he was from the UNSC, practically screamed, “Burn those mother-!” before it cut to static to be replaced by more profane yelling.I pulled the helmet off just in time to hear a distant explosion. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with all the yelling, all the death. Why didn’t they just do us all a favor and blast us to Tartarus from orbit already like Reach?Forget it; I needed to get that pistol.I crawled for what felt like hours, and for all I knew, it could have been. My vision was swimming in and out of blurriness, making my sense of time and direction off. It took me forever to reach the body, the name tag reading Hall. I wondered if he had kids, or a family back on Earth or one of the other remaining human planets.I just lied there, thinking as I reached for his pistol. When I finally summoned enough willpower to take the weapon from its holster, I felt strength leave me and I collapsed on my side beside the dead soldier, taking shallow breaths.I just gotta… sleep… for just a moment…Adrenalin kicked in when I heard the horrid squawk laced with a subtle hiss. I lied still as death when the source of the noise jumped into the sewer, missing the foul smelling water to impact solid ground. There was a distinct scrapeing sound with every step it took, like massive claws were digging into the concrete floor with each move of its feet.I felt my gut turn over in a knot when I heard Cherry’s armor clatter away from his body, followed by a crunch. I felt bile roll into my mouth when the sound of flesh being ripped reached my ears, but I willed myself not to puke. Blood began to pool towards me, a small crimson lake as the beast I dared not look at devoured Cherry’s corpse with sickening squawks and hisses.Why? Why was this happening to me? I thought that over and over to myself as I felt my eyes burn with tears.Then the sounds of the creature consuming one of my friends stopped. A dead silence overtaking the cramped tunnel.I heard the alien breath in heavily through it’s nose. My urine a dead giveaway to any creature with heightened sense of smell.I grabbed the pistol I took from Hall, my roll causing my to scream in pain as I fired wildly. The recoil was massive, almost making me hit myself as the gun kicked backwards, but I fired until there was nothing left.By the time I became re-aware of my surroundings again, the alien bastardization of dragon and griffon lay near me, a hunk of Cherry’s flesh hanging from it’s tooth filled beak.I curled into a ball, sobbing as the bile I held back fought its way out once more, emptying what little remained in my stomach.I needed to leave, will myself to move, but how much more could I give? My parents were gone, my friends, even my home city was gone to ruin. My strength was wavering with each passing second as I lied curled into a ball. The cold concrete leaching what heat it could from me.Then, clarity of what would happen if I continued lying there passed through my thoughts. If I stay here, I would die, and more of those things would eat my corpse.I rolled to push myself up to my knees, my skin coated in blood while my fur was in other bodily fluids. Rising to my hooves, I looked my would be killer in the slitted eyes as it lied on its back.Studying it halfway in a daze from pain and the feeling of utter numbness, I spotted the sunshine pendant around it’s neck, and a cloud ring around one of it’s three talon like fingers.My parent’s jewelry matching their cutie marks, a cloud and sunshine.Heartache and rage boiled in me as I found strength to raise a hoof, bringing it crashing down into the creature's skull and shattering it under the strenght of an enraged earth pony. If only the bastard was still alive so he could feel my hoof grind its head into pulp. Why couldn’t it leave them in peace after their death…? Why did it have to disturb their bodies and loot them?Or… I glanced over at Cherry, the sick feeling of hatred boiling inside me.With no way to kill the alien any more than I already had, my rage dissipated to nauseousness, my thoughts a jumbled mess of anger, pain, and fatigue. I sat down hard on the floor, telling myself the thing just took their jewelry, and was only interested in Cherry.It was a lie and I knew it. Taking my father’s ring and my mother’s pendant back from the creature, I clutched the pendant's chain hard, letting the little ray of sunshine dance around in spins.Mom had home videos of me when I was in the ‘chewing’ phase of foalhood, and I repeatedly thought their jewelry was edible. I unclasped the chain, threading the gold necklace through my father's silver ring since it was too big for my fingers. Looking back, I guess I was keeping both of them close to my heart. With a small part of my parent’s to cling to, I felt new energy stir in me. Getting to my hooves, I studied the corpse some more. I had to go, the gunshots would probably attract more. Luck looked like it wanted to favor me; two holes leaking purple glowing blood were punched into the creatures gut from my wild shooting. My hoof was just overkill.On the aliens hip was a pistol that I had heard the humans from the UNSC talk about. A Needler, usually carried around by Jackals. It was shaped like the letter ‘A’ turned on its side, made from dark blue metal that was nearly black. It’s frame was smooth and elegantly curved. A few pink shards were poking from the top of it’s frame, the same ones that were buried deep in my dead friend.I didn’t like it. Guns weren’t supposed to look like that. They were supposed to be cumbersome things made from lots of metal. What was on the Jackals side seemed almost… decorative.Even though it looked too focused on looks than effectiveness, I took the weapon. The alien metal was unsurprisingly light, and the trigger guard seemed to be made for the bigger aliens. Elites, I could finally remember the humans calling them.Aiming down the tunnel, I pulled the trigger once. A single pink shard flew out of the tip of the weapon, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel beyond the light let in from the hole. The weapon sounding off with a noise akin to glass breaking, a single pink shard disappearing from the top of the weapon. The recoil was a fraction of a fraction of the human’s pistol. There was only one problem with it. I only had five shards left sticking from the top of the weapon.Groaning in frustration, somewhat armed with a weapon I could control, I limped slowly down the tunnel, unable to reach the hole I fell in from. I had a plan: get to the surface, find others, escape, and hopefully not run out of shots with the only weapon I had.If only plans worked out like they were supposed to.

Chapter 4: Raven

Chapter 4: Summer

Not far down the tunnel, smoke began to obscure what little light the pink crystals of the Needler gave off. The smoke itself wasn’t bad, it was the coughing that was the problem. My lungs burned with coughs as my ribs screamed with each involuntary spasm, making me wince and suck air through my teeth in pained grimaces. I could smell burning Essence, the fuel for the magic engines in most motorized carriages - cars for short. The scent was sweet, like vanilla, but mixed with the heavy stench of bleach. Combined with the foul smell of fecal matter, my head was spinning, but I pressed onwards anyway. Eventually, I passed the still glowing crystal embedded in the wall from my test fire of the alien pistol.

I was stuck limping, that’s all I could do; drag my battered body on weak hooves until I found a way out. All that time allowed me to think, even though explosions and screams rang out in symphonies above. I blocked them out, trying to come to terms with the fact that my parents were gone; that two major parts of my life were now missing.It felt like I was opening a gaping wound even wider, tears falling down my eyes, but not from the light veil of smoke. They were of pain, so much pain in a brief amount of time. That’s all the Covenant stands for, O’Neill warned: They swoop down, kill, then leave. They didn’t care how many homes they wrecked, how many children they… they orphaned.I leaned against the wall, supporting myself with a pipe that served as a convenient rail. Gods, I missed them… I missed them so much, and there was nothing I could do, or could have done, to bring them back or save them. Why couldn’t I have died with them? Why didn’t that fucking Spartan save them?I put my back against the wall and slid down, gritting my teeth as my busted ribs made me want to scream in pain. My emotions had left me unable to continue, so I cried and cried, unable to shed enough tears. Slowly, the horrible symphony of screams and death on the surface died with the citizens. All that remained were the few staccatos of assault weapons fire, and energy discharge.Sitting there, I felt useless, broken. Every breath was pain, every move labored. How could I even begin to come to terms with losing my mother, the one who gave me the life I so readily took for granted? Or my father, the one who loved his two mares unconditionally? I didn’t even get a chance to give their corpses a proper goodbye before that bastard desecrated them.Rage boiled in me as the thoughts of the Jackal teased the front of my mind, its beak grinning as it ate. That rage picked me up, and sent me marching forward. Determination was the emotion on my face, and my mind was focused on killing every last Jackal I came across. The Elites were next, and they would be, I would kill them all, and let the Gods sort them out, or I would die trying.Turning a corner I saw the source of the smoke. A crashed LAAT Gunship had smashed a car through the pavement. My thoughts of revenge were shattered when I saw the driver of the car… Oh Gods he was cut in half. Pink and grey entrails hung out the smashed car wreckage like bloody ropes, pooling blood onto hunks of meat. My stomach began to feel queasy, but I didn’t gag. There was nothing left to puke anyway. The LAAT pilots fared no better, both trapped in the cockpit, dead, their arms held up in fear. It seemed that they both were bracing for impact with the ground. The wing of the massive box was just at the perfect angle to serve as a ramp to the surface. Shakily, I walked up the wing, passing the bubble shaped side turret that was shattered open, the Clone occupant nowhere to be seen. I dared not think about opening the sliding door to the troop bay.I gasped at what I saw on the surface when I reached it. Buildings were toppled over, the spires of concrete broken off into jagged spars reaching skyward. Rubble not only lined the streets, in some places the debris completely blocked off sections. One of the Clones’ six-legged tanks was nearby, the three right legs blown off and scorched by hot plasma, making the machine tilt on its side, the cannon turret pointing down. The operator of the massive gun was still stuck in his harness, a sliver of pink jutting from his helmet. There was a loud bang, and a sharp sizzling sound. Looking up, a blue fireball was streaking towards a barricade of rubble, blocking a street beyond a building. The source of the fireball was blocked by a building, so I looked back to the rubble barricade. For a brief moment, I saw Clone rifle barrels poking out from what little I could see of the barricade. Before I could register that a battle was taking place, the fireball landed. The rubble disintegrated in a brilliant explosion of light and fire as I shielded my eyes with my arms. When I turned back to the barricade, it was nothing but dust, completely destroyed. Seconds later, a wounded Clone dragged himself from behind the remaining shattered stone barricade. He managed to crawl a meter in black, smoking, melted armor before a flash of pink embedded itself in his helmet, stopping his movement with a final spasm.A low droning sound came from down the street where the fireball had originated from, its low whine barely audible. I realized that the machine moving towards the Clone’s position was going to spot me, so I slid down the LAAT wing to hide, my aching body screaming internally in protest. In my mind, I mentally added finding some painkillers to the list of things to do.I lied at the bottom of the wing, blood pooling out of the ship where the occupants of the troop bay had died. They were most likely civilians, wanting to escape the coming storm. I just waited, clutching the alien pistol to my chest in preparation to fight if I had to. I let out a sigh of relief as the sound went away, the same boom coming from down the street as the vehicle fired again. I felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of that shot.For a minute longer I waited patiently, expecting the sound to return. To my relief it didn’t. Releasing the breath that I was holding, I got to my hooves and climbed back up the wing, each step resounding with a metallic thud. Thankfully when I reached the top, no one was around to hear my racket. I made a mental note next to the painkillers that I should probably be more careful about how much noise I make.I took two steps off the Gunship wing before I froze, my eyes locked on the dead Clone who crawled from the rubble, or more specifically, the large pink crystal embedded in his skull.There was only one conclusion I could come up with to answer why that injury seemed wrong after a vehicle made for blowing things up didn’t hit him with another plasma ball… snipers supporting the heavy weapons.With that street containing certain death by headshot, I looked behind me. I nearly gave a chuckle upon seeing the almost convenient alley literally five meters’ distance away from the hole. Down said alley were garbage cans and dumpsters, along with a few rusty metal doors, and corroded air conditioners still churning out cold air with a loud rattle of the internal fans. Magic generators could power a building for days after the main power was lost. Utilities such as heating and air conditioning could keep running, even if there was nopony to run them.I chose the smart route; the path with plenty of large objects to hide me from Covenant.A quick sprint covered the distance in seconds, and I was in the alley. My body felt like it was lit on fire, and my ribs felt like they were grinding against each other with each pant for air. I could usually run an entire block before slowing, but my injured body wanted to slow down the longer I moved.After a minute of leaning against a wall to rest, I began to take in my surroundings. The alley I had entered stunk of trash, but the foul smell was quickly overpowered by my own scent of burning Essence fuel and feces. It was clinging to my clothing and following me, and it would probably get me caught if those Jackals had half the smelling capability of griffons.My mental checklist was growing with things to do, although ‘bathing’ took lowest priority.Moving further and further down the narrow passageway, I froze in utter fear for my life. It was looking me dead in the eyes, cruel intent on its face. Slowly I backed away from the spider and its silken net, carefully tiphooving around the glossy nightmare called a web, and its Tartarus-spawn builder.I was an arachnophobe, and deathly scared of spiders. I don’t know what it is about them, but they had scared me ever since I was a foal. Shivering in slight fear, I managed to avoid the eight-legged demon, and came out the other side of the alley.I gasped at the sight of a three dead Elites, surrounded by countless bodies of other aliens, intermixed with dozens of citizens. The former residents of Manehattan had died from plasma and Needler fire, but the Covenant had pieces missing from their bodies: fingers, legs, arms; one Elite was even missing a head. It was like a massive explosion had killed all of the Covenant, but left no damage to the citizens. Feeling sick as I averted my gaze from the decapitated Elite, I realized that the other streets that led into the area were all blocked off by rubble from partially fallen buildings. One poor stallion was crushed under a piece of large concrete debris.Well, almost all of the streets were blocked off by rubble. One street was blocked off by two almost intact Covenant vehicles. They were parked side-by-side, and each one had a gun turret, which could have accounted for most of the dead civilians; but the operators of both turrets were torn to shreds. The curved dark-blue painted metal surfaces had deep claw marks running up and down in random patterns. The metal cover over each driver’s seat was ripped open, along with both of the Elite drivers. My best guess was that they were the tanks for the Covenant. Wraiths, I believe I had heard O’Neill call them once.Walking towards the battlefield, I was careful not to trip on the still-warm bodies or fallen weapons. I realized why they looked like they had been killed by explosives; three griffons lay dead in the middle of the carnage and in close proximity with each other. From where I stood, I could clearly see that their talons were stained with alien blood. It was rumored that a griffon’s talons were sharp enough to cut through sheet metal. Add that with their average height of seven hooves tall, with razor sharp beaks, powerful wings, and a keen sense of smell, and one would have a perfect predator species.Luckily for ponykind, they were omnivorous like us, and could just as easily survive on a meatless diet. Although there have been cases in the past of ‘To serve pony.’As I studied the bodies further, there was one thing in particular that stuck out to me as strange. There were only three dead griffons, and each one was unarmed. Any sized group would have definitely lost more facing down this large of a Covenant platoon with tank support, since it seemed that they only used their talons.Stopping my pace as I stood by the griffons, I closed the eyes of two who died with their eyes open, crystal shards embedded in them. The third had hers closed already. I grimaced and shed a tear for my parents as I noticed the two holes burned into her chest, most likely from an Elite’s sword.Stepping away from the bodies, I wasn’t paying attention to where I stepped, and I felt a crunch under my right hoof. Moving my leg to the side, I saw I had stepped on a large needle filled with a red liquid. Next to it was a curved piece of metal, engraved with alien hieroglyphics.I looked at the needle first. I had heard about this stuff - if my guess was correct anyway - that it was a cocktail of drugs called Rage. Some griffon had developed it to sell as a combat drug for soldiers, but the side effects outweighed the benefits. Users became extremely aggressive, as well as having enough adrenaline pump through them to keep moving after multiple gunshot wounds, but any heart condition, or the slightest overdose, and the user would fall dead after it wore off.A single griffon on Rage could slaughter five armed police officers before going down to wounds. Having three on Rage, while working together... now I understand how they could beat a small army with only their talons.Next I looked at the curved piece of metal. It was a silver color, with what appeared to be black rubber forming a hand grip, with a small hump protruding from the center of the curve. It looked like it would make for an uncomfortable grip between the middle and ring finger.In the brief flash that took my parents away, I saw two just like this, tearing my family away from me. Picking it up, I felt pure contempt for the Elites as I held the weapon. Squeezing the grip hard, the weapon sprang to life with a mighty hiss. The sudden appearance of light and sound surprised me, and I dropped the weapon, though it stayed on. I must have triggered a button. I stood there, looking at the sword’s pale blue light. My head began to fiercely ache, surpassing the constant pain in my ribs as the symbols on the hilt seemed to form words. “By the light of this sword,” I spoke, each glyph containing meaning I didn’t understand how I knew, “The path to the Journey shall be found.” I nearly gasped at ‘found,’ it looked just like my cutie mark. Three stars surrounded by a silver ring, with lines connecting all three in a triangle. I closed my eyes and shook my head, the meaning of the glyphs fading. My surprise was quickly forgotten, when the sudden urge to move caused me to turn. I moved just in time for a piece of rebar to impale itself into a Jackal’s body near my hooves. The offender, a griffon female in jeans and a t-shirt, landed a few meters away, but from where I was I could see that the whites of her eyes were almost solid red from being bloodshot. As she began to walk towards me, she let out a sadistic, evil laugh and a near seizure-like twitch.Fear ran through me as I leveled the needle pistol and prepared to give her a warning, but no words came to mind as she took one threatening step forward. Stepping back, I stumbled on the body of a Jackal, giving her time to charge forward. I recovered as I fell backwards onto the front of the Wraith, and pulled the trigger, holding it down. All five of the Needler’s crystals were gone by the time I let go.Three or four struck center mass in her chest, ripping through her ‘I <3 Manehattan’ T-shirt like it were made of wet paper. Each one hummed loudly with energy, right before there was a bright pink explosion that made me shield my eyes. She had been close enough to me that I felt the heat from the blast… and feel a few chunks of flesh pelt the skin of my arm, and face.I stood straight up again, gagged in disgust and horror, bent over, and dry-heaved, feeling a lance of pain from my ribs once again. I could handle bodies… but not this. I could feel pieces of her on me.Trying hard to not think about the griffon, it proved impossible as I began to check myself for chunks of flesh. I quickly found I was covered in blood from the red mist that remained of her upper torso, only her legs, and a few strips of ripped flesh I wouldn’t even call a stomach, were all that remained of my attacker’s upper torso.I didn’t know what to think about killing her. I was mixed between feelings of sheer horror that I just took another’s life by blowing them into tiny pieces; and a strange, almost empty feeling of numbness from the reassurance that I only did it to defend myself. She was drugged beyond crazy and attacked me first with intent to kill.I settled on a disappointed sigh, wincing and feeling bile run into my throat as I wiped a piece of her off of me. The only other living civilian I found in a city of over two million wanted to kill me. The Covenant didn’t even need to send their ground troops. All the Covenant had to do was cause enough panic, and soon everyone would turn on each other while they watched from afar.Pushing the thought of the Covenant out of my mind, I tossed the spent pistol away, since I didn’t know how to scavenge ammunition from the numerous pistols around me. Picking up another off a short alien, I began to look at how strange the alien itself was. It was shorter than most of the humans, and its entire body looked to be made of a blue-grey shell. It also wore a mask over its face, connected to a triangular tank on its back since it was unable to breathe our atmosphere like its companions. I knew for a fact I was looking at a Grunt.Hopefully I wouldn’t have to use its Needler to kill, but the explosion might come in handy against groups, and after the crazy head trip, I wasn’t touching the sword again.I was pulled out of my thoughts on the weapon when a low hum filled the air. Heavy sounding, like the engines in it were struggling with an immense weight. It wasn’t the continuous drones of engines when the Covenant first attacked, but a single ship… a single, fat, blue ship with a Wraith underneath.Cut off from the alley, I pushed my battered body and ran in the only direction that I could. Instead of running past the two pilotless Wraiths and most likely deeper into Covenant controlled areas, I picked a random door and ran inside, throwing the lock shut just in time to hear a loud crash as the alien tank dropped from the ship’s grasp.The blood that covered every centimeter of my skin that was from facing the griffon would lead the Jackals right to me. I felt only horror as I envisioned myself dead on some alien table, becoming a feast for the flock. Suddenly, the four walls surrounding me felt more like a cage than a hideaway.And like the caged, wounded and bloody animal I was, I thrashed and ran, looking desperately for a way out.Whipping my head frantically around the near-empty reception area for an escape route, my pain-addled mind began screaming for me to move, as my heart pounded my busted ribs to dust. I ignored the teeth-gnashing pain as I saw stairs. Stairs were good, stairs were my friend.Running like a madmare, crystals and plasma began firing through the door I had just vacated from. Seconds after ascending the first tier of steps, the first floor wall blasted inward with a rumble of falling rubble and scream of exploding plasma.I had a gun, they had a tank. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice waded through the waves of pain to remind me that I was totally screwed right now. I mentally told the voice in my head to go fuck itself and ran even faster - if that was even possible.Even with the adrenalin pumping, I was starting to slow, but I pushed on. “Two, three, four, five,” I counted the yellow floor numbers, panting for air as I passed them. At the sixth floor, I was presented a problem. The stairs leading up to the seventh floor were blocked completely by rubble, and I could hear Jackals’ clawed feet tapping on the steps lower down. They squawked and hissed like they were laughing; I was just game to the Birds of Prey.Throwing open the sixth floor door, I didn’t take in the lovely sight of the almost untouched office space with neat cubicles arranged in a perfect maze. I could have probably split the group into sections, taking them out using the cubicles to hide, but no. I did the logical thing…I fired through the nearest window and jumped--Only to land and roll on top of shattered glass. I found myself cut and bleeding on the top floor of an adjacent building; its roof dead even with the sixth floor. Panting, I just lied there on the scorching asphalt of the roof in the middle of a dying city. Explosions rang off in the distance… more Wraiths.The Jackals caught up with me as I managed to get to my hooves. I turned my head slightly to face them. There were six of them, and like knights of old, affixed to their left forearms, were blue circular shields of energy.I turned to face them completely, and when I leveled my weapon, I realized just a bit too late the Needler I picked up to replace my old one had only one crystal jutting from the top… and I had used that one needle to shoot out the window.The voice from earlier came back, telling me ‘I told you so’ and that I was the one that should go fuck myself.Turning as I tossed the useless weapon down, I spotted perhaps my only salvation. It was a simple metal door. Testing my so-far insane luck on the roof access door, pink crystals of death and plasma began to fly all round me.I quickly opened the door, ran inside, and shut it quickly as crystals began to pelt the metal. It made cracks and pops like hail on a tin roof. My insane luck held out again as a fire axe was placed in a holder, right beside an extinguisher. Taking the heavy metal and fiberglass tool, I jammed the door closed. I did it by taking the axe and wedging it between the push-bar and the doorjamb, so that when the Jackals tried to open it, the fire axe would prevent them from pulling the door.Breathing out a sigh of relief, I winched and hissed sharply as I felt my leg begin to sting. Looking down at my right leg, I noticed my pants were cut. My right leg itself was bleeding slowly from a small gash just below my back-facing knee, a few centimeters above my hoof. Both of my arms were cut badly, bleeding gashes still with glass shards embedded in them ran up and down my arms. I had landed on broken glass, and now I started feeling pain. It flared with each pant for precious air I took. My ribs hurt as well, the pain came in a rushing tsunami, making me clench my teeth and scream through them.I didn’t have long to think about the pain, though. The Jackals were already banging on the metal door with their talons, and I doubted it would hold them long. Pushing my already stretched limits once more, I tried to block out the aches and pains as I put as much distance between the Jackals and myself as I could.In my mad run for my life, I ran down two flights of stairs to the third floor. I gave a sudden stop by grabbing the railing and holding on as I nearly tripped. The stairs abruptly became absent from their rightful place. As soon as I recovered from my sudden stop, I looked down the emptiness. The stairs that led further down were now collapsed at the bottom of the shaft, under the twisted olive-drab frame of a Pelican. It had crashed hard into the building, obviously bringing the stairs with it, and left a gaping hole smashed into the side of the building. I could hear the sound of gunfire and explosions echoing off the remaining buildings through the hole.Looking all the way down to the first floor, I saw the twisted remains of the Pelican’s pilot and shuddered. She had been ejected through the cockpit window; the cuts on her face were evidence of that. The ejection from her chair also caused her to hit solidly against the far wall, splattering blood and crushing her helmet inward, right before she fell and was impaled on rebar jutting from the shattered concrete. I prayed it was quick. To die slowly like that…The gruesomeness of her death caused me to turn away, shaking my head. I opened the nearby door and walked inside, trying to forget about it. The hallway I entered was filled with doors, numbered with letters and room numbers. If these were apartments, then I could probably find something for my wounds in one of the rooms.Most of the doors were closed, but one - apartment Three F - was open wide, almost like it was inviting me in. Entering the apartment’s hall, I realized one thing. The apartment was spotless; no specks of dust were on any of the family photos lining the clean white walls, and the beige carpeted floor was clear of rubble. It was like a bubble had kept the apartment as it was, prior to the invasion.The photos I passed as I delved deeper into the apartment made my gut clench and eyes blink out tears. Behind each pane of glass surrounded by wood, a pegasus mare with a golden mane, a blond unicorn stallion, and a little white haired filly no older than four, stood to the backdrop of Manehattan. Strange thing was… the filly had both wings, and a horn. It was a natural born alicorn.They reminded me of my family photos… ones I’d never see any more, or get another opportunity to have my photo taken on the hill, next to my favorite tire swing, and that gnarled oak tree it’s tied to.I reached out and touched the glass frame covering the precious photo, feeling my heart break just like my ribs. I felt wrong inside as my fingertips left four bloody marks on the glass.Continuing, my heart broke even more. A few photographs down, the filly was gone, then the husband. That left only the mare, sadness in her sun-orange eyes. Another photo later, the mare was still alone, though her civilian clothes were gone: replaced by the crisp uniform of the Equestrian Marine Corps. She looked angry in her black uniform and blue trousers, like she was going to use the saber at her hip to exalt her wrath.“Who are you?” I jerked in shock to see a middle aged mare not four hooves’ distance away. She was wearing a yellow shirt long enough to hang between her forward and back facing knees and an olive green pair of jogging pants.“Come on, out with it,” she demanded. It was the same golden maned pegasus from the photographs. Even as she scowled at me, I could see that her face was sunken with a few wrinkles and her eyes spoke years of pain. Then I realized she had her hand hidden behind her back like she was about to take a bow; no doubt in my mind she had a gun.“H-hello, I’m Midnight Stargazer,” I said weakly with a wave of my hand. I didn’t want to stay silent and risk being shot. And even if she didn’t have the gun behind her back, she could just as easily kill me with a punch. She wasn’t ripped, but her biceps could make most common stallions jealous. A single punch from her would most likely break the rest of my ribs.“I smelled you when you fucking walked in,” the mare said with a hostile snort, “Second Lieutenant Summer Wind, Equestrian Marine Corps, retired.” I finally understood why she had muscle. Summer Wind coked her head to the side, letting out a laugh, “You here to kill me? ‘Cause you look like Tartarus. I would rather my murderer be a bit more presentable, not some dirty, punk ass kid.”“Hubawah?” I sputtered out in sheer confusion at why she would think that. Shaking my head and waving my left hand, I managed to recover, “No ma'am, I’m just looking for first-aid,” then I remembered to mention something incredibly important, “There’s going to be around six unfriendly visitors when they break the roof door down.”“Let them come,” Summer Wind muttered with no hint of bravado as she revealed the large caliber semiautomatic pistol she had hidden behind her back, “This mare still has fight in her.” She sniffed the air, “You still smell like shit. Wash up and I’ll grab some clothes and a first-aid kit.”From her rudeness, I knew we were going to be good friends.The mare then made a motion with her free hand, pointing further into the apartment, “The bathroom has a sign saying bathroom. Unless you can’t read, you should be able to find it,” she said in a semi-hostile tone.“Thanks,” I said simply. She may have been grouchy, but it was the middle of the alien apocalypse, I didn’t have a right to be ungrateful.“Go already,” Summer Wind grunted out annoyed, “You’re starting to stink up my house.” Okay, maybe a little ungrateful.Did I really stink, that bad? Sniffing my shirt I winced and gagged, causing the mare to crack a smile. It was more of a smirk, but smiling’s good, let’s keep it like that. I also did smell that bad. “Well, I thank you for the hospitality,” hostility more like it, “I’m going to go take that shower now.”She gave me a nod, still smirking as I passed her by.Her apartment was a lot different than R&R Tower’s. I went left and ended up in the kitchen, when familiarity with my own home told me it should have been the living room. I quickly found the living room to the right, as well as the bathroom and rushed inside. I didn’t hesitate to start peeling out of the foul rags I considered clothes. As I struggled to remove my pants, I caught sight of myself in the mirror, the sight stopping me in my frantic undressing.I really did look like I’d been dragged through Tartarus… by my hair. The dark blue strands with a single black highlight either ran wild, or were matted to my face by dirt and blood. I was surprised Summer didn’t shoot the mare I had to blink several times to recognize as my own reflection.Checking myself even more, the cuts on my arms were still bleeding, and I could spot faint glimmers of glass in the light. My face had small cuts that would heal in time, but the side of my head was caked in blood when I impacted the ground. I felt the back of my head, it was bleeding too.Spotting a pair of tweezers sitting in a red plastic cup by the sink, I grabbed them and sterilized the metal tongs with hot water. Biting my tongue, I started removing glass shards. They were tiny, though, not the large knife sized chucks one would see stabbing somepony in the movies. No, these were all around the size of half a pencil eraser.By the time I was done, I could have made a bloody and broken glass collage from the fragments. Digging them out had caused me less pain than I thought it would, but afterward, I swore all the blood I had lost thus far was making me a little dizzy.It’s probably just a placebo effect from seeing all the little bloody pieces of glass lying in a pile, I told myself… right?Before I grew even dizzier, I pulled off my pants, my furred right leg now matted with blood from my cut. It was followed by the last two articles of clothing I wore, and I jumped into the shower, turning the hot water on all the way, and only the cold by a half turn.I was hit by a blast of cold water which made me jerk, reminding me I had broken or fractured ribs. Thankfully, the pain subsided as the chilly water rapidly heated up, and steam began to swirl around my body. I didn’t care I was nude in a stranger’s house, I was getting clean. Looking down, the water was running red and brown from blood and dirt. As the seconds passed by, the hot stream began to make me feel like normal again. Even with my ribs painfully throbbing and blood leaking out the several cuts on my body.Where were you when the world ended? I asked myself. Oh, I was standing in a shower, trying to scrub the smell of piss out my fur. I responded, scolding myself as I began to scrub with my hand, since I wasn’t going to use a stranger’s washrag. I felt like a little filly; feeling nothing but shame from my embarrassing act in the tunnel. It had been years since I wet myself like I had today. But could I be blamed? That thing was eating Cherry.Even as hot water washed over my skin and fur, I shivered in fear, feeling sick to my stomach again.Minutes later I had finished. In those few minutes I stood in the shower, letting the warm water wash over me as I thought back briefly to the sword. My thoughts were interrupted when Summer Wind had knocked and entered, leaving some clothes for me in a neatly folded pile on the sink. After I had gotten out, I went to put them on. Surprisingly, they were just my size, the pile containing a white bra, red shirt, a pair of jeans, and… green boxers? I looked at the boxer shorts, unsure exactly what to do with the underwear made for colts.It’s the middle of an alien invasion, and you’re worried about the gender a piece of clothing is designed for. Mare the buck up and put them on, Midnight.Groaning inwardly, I slipped the boxers on. My first opinion was that they were… comfortable, yet strange. I didn’t like the unbuttoned fly of the boxers, they made me feel, exposed down there. Then I slipped the jeans on, which caused me to have to repeatedly tug the jeans to un-bunch the fabric underneath.Give me a pair of panties any day, these things are a nightmare to wear. How does a stallion or colt even wear these?When I was fully dressed and slightly uncomfortable in the crotch region – Gods that sounded perverted – I exited the bathroom. Summer Wind was sitting in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette with a bottle of amber whisky sitting by her right hand. The first aid-kit was sitting on top of the table, the bare wood only decorated by a black plastic ashtray, a half-filled whisky glass with three cubes of ice, her near-empty whiskey bottle, and the first-aid kit itself.She must have heard me close the bathroom door, as once I had shut it, she looked up from the glass of whiskey, “Your buddies must have given up. If they were that desperate to catch you, they would have followed that blood trail you left outside my door.”Stupid Midnight, you were bleeding, that means you were leaving blood drops. It was stupid to stop, but I needed the first-aid and the shower.“Sorry,” I apologized weakly as I began walking towards the table “I’m banged up pretty bad and needed some supplies.”“You need any painkillers?” She asked, her cigarette swaying with each word. I shook my head, my trust of strangers not extending to accepting pills.When I reached the table, I sat in the second of two folding chairs. From where I was sitting, Summer and I had a clear view of the outside through a window. The big Covenant ship was gone, its twin sitting in a crater of smashed building with the Requiem only a few blocks away from it. Even from here I could see the blue bolts from Clones’ rifles, and what looked like hundreds of Covenant soldiers. Thankfully it was all kilometers away, towards the center of the city. R&R Tower was built closer to the outer edge of Manehattan than most other skyscrapers, due to it being relatively new. Adding that fact with the one that I had only made it a few blocks before getting knocked into the sewer, meant that I was close to the edge of the city, and the wide, wide countryside between cities and towns.As I turned my gaze away from the window to the first-aid kit, I opened the plastic box. Summer Wind snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray and got out of her seat.Standing beside me, she began rummaging through the first-aid kit for items. One was antibiotic ointment. Unscrewing the cap, she turned my still bleeding arm over, and squeezed out a small drop that burned slightly when it touched my wound. “There,” She started, “Rub the drops on the cuts. With everything gone to shit, a single infection will kill you slowly.”I gulped in fear, knowing she was right, and began to rub in the medicine as she applied more antibiotics.“So, Midnight,” Summer said as she wrapped my now bacteria-free arm in gauze and bandage compresses, “You got a family out there looking for you?”“No,” I said shaking my head, “They were… they were killed right in front of me,” I tried to keep in my sob, but failed, “And there was nothing I could do. Why wasn’t that Spartan just a bit faster?”“Midnight,” Summer said as she placed a hand on my shoulder, crouched and looked into my eyes, “I’ve seen people die in front of me. Friends so close to me they were almost like family. I know you’re hurting, but do not blame yourself, or anyone else. Blame the ones who actually did it.”“They’re dead,” I said as I clenched my fists and grimaced in anger. “Then stop and accept that justice was served. I know what revenge killing feels like. It leaves you empty and hollow, a shell of the mare you used to be. Stop while Midnight is still Midnight, not a merciless killer gunning down in the name of revenge.”I don’t know what it was, probably the eyes that read pain, or her dire tone of voice, but I had listened.After our little discussion, she let me have a moment to myself before she continued. I still had that gash on my leg, and it had already ruined the pants she gave me. She saw the blood, and I had to take my pants off in order for her to stitch the wound closed. All the while I had my hands over the crotch of the boxers, and a large blush on my face.“How do you even wear these boxers?” I asked as I slipped back into my pants.“If you think boxers are uncomfortable,” she started with a chuckle, “try having the Marine Corps issue your underwear. After wearing those nightmares, boxers seem like a Godsend.”She was probably right. “Thank you,” I said, “From that stitching, I guess you were an EMC medic?”“No,” Summer said with a shake of her head as she sat back on her own chair, “I’ve just been wounded enough times to know it was a good idea to learn how to fix myself,” the mare let out a mirthless laugh, “After my daughter Snow passed away, my husband, Fall Leaves, left me for someone less drunk,” she said, taking a sip from her glass, the ice having completely melted while she was tending to my wounds.“How does that fit in with the EMC?” I asked eyeing the amber liquid. I really wanted something to numb the pain I was feeling – the emotional toll from my parents’ deaths, and the physical pain of getting a needle and thread shoved through my skin repeatedly. But alas, just like the painkillers, she was a stranger, so accepting alcohol from her was a big no-no in my book.“I’m getting to that,” Summer said tersely, “After my marriage broke down, and my money ran out, I moved back in with my parents,” she laughed, “Their dear daughter coming home drunk every chance she got upset them; so at the ripe old age of thirty one, my parents kicked me out a second time in my life.“Then I crashed while flying drunk, spent a few weeks in a hospital with a broken wing that left me permanently flightless, and realized I needed to get my life sorted out. I joined the EMC, and spent fifteen years on the Equestria/Griffonia border, waiting for various griffon drug-lords to decide to stage their own invasions. I’m retired since I was put permanently out of service after one griffon attack,” she jerked as if she just realized something, “They're so rare in Equestria that I might need to ask you if you’ve ever seen a griffon.”“I was attacked by one on Rage,” I said, shivering at the fresh memory of making the drug fiend explode.She laughed, pulling me out of the funk I was slipping into. “I hated the Rageheads. They were always jumpy as fuck, and took a whole magazine to take down. Careful if you see a Ragehead huff an inhaler of Nitro.”“Nitro?” I asked as I arched my eyebrows in confusion. I had never heard of that drug before.“Yeah, Nitro,” Summer said with a nod as she made a sweeping motion with her right hand, “Gets them high as the Moon. Nitro and Rage, when mixed together with a dose of morphine,” she paused and shook her head slowly, “Have you ever heard of the Black Talon Outpost Massacre?”I shook my head; the mare in front of me was around the age of fifty from what she told me. It happened probably when I was five or so.The mare gulped down the rest of her glass of whiskey, “Damn bloody mess that was,” she said with a slight Manechester accent, “A six hour firefight that got thirty seven soldiers KIA’d, and fourteen others wounded. One of those was a Wonderbolt not even part of the garrison. That was against a force smaller than half of our size, even when we were dug in behind sandbags and concrete barricades.”The EMC Outposts were set up to keep griffons from crossing the border, either to smuggle drugs, or kidnap citizens from the various border towns to sell for ransom. Each one was usually manned by fifty soldiers at a time for security reasons. With everypony there either wounded or dead, that was a one hundred percent casualty rating, and most of them had been killed… damn.She continued, “The Crimson Wings decided to have a party around six in the morning. It was clear that morning, no fog and a clean line of sight while I was on watch in one of the fort’s machine gun nests. The area was a hotspot for activity, that’s why we were issued the heavy machine guns,” She laughed, “Well since our outpost was about six klicks from their hangout, I could use the binoculars I had to see them dancing around fire barrels, huffing Nitro inhalers, and occasionally having some generally unsafe coitus; your standard drug filled party.”She laughed as she shook her head, “That was until I noticed a few started bringing out the Rage. Ten years ago, some griffon decided to start lacing Rage with morphine to try and counteract the increased heart rate problem. Kill fewer users from heart failure that way. Things got out of hand quickly when a few were drugged up enough to consider attacking the nearby EMC outpost just for the fun of it, and when one suggests it, they all follow.”She shivered and poured herself another glass of whiskey, “I called for the alarm to be sounded, pissing off a few other Marines when I ruined their morning chow. Twenty berserk griffons, armed to the beak on drugs that made them unstoppable in a firefight, were on us before you could come up with an appropriate curse for how fucked we were. I took three bullets in the gut as I manned my post for the whole six hour engagement. The Wonderbolts showed up just in the nick of time. We were being overrun, and down they came, like a gift from the Gods. One of them, a Sergeant, now Captain Spitfire, took a bullet as she hauled my sorry ass away from my overheated machine gun.”Whoa… Captain Spitfire saved her life?“There was this one griffon,” Summer said as she looked down and sighed, “A fucking sniper,” a tear fell from her eye, “Before Sergeant Spitfire swooped in, I saw one of my friends get killed by a single flash on the hill. I heard him collapse before I heard the bang. It was one of the Apples, those ponies that own that massive orchard out in Ponyville. His name was Cider Apple, the meanest cuss ever if he was in a firefight, and the best friend to have a drink with. He left a wife and three kids, one of which was still in the womb.”She shook her head, “They didn’t find the sniper,” She laughed, a gleam of old rage in her eyes, “What the coroners found was a sack of meat and feathers with around seventeen .50 calibre holes in it.” Her mood rapidly changed to melancholy, and she let out an almost sad laugh, “All those medals and that purple heart Princess Celestia herself pinned on me weren’t worth shit when I attended my friend’s funeral. I can still see little Applejack crying into her older brother’s shoulder.”Suddenly, I was feeling very, very tired; the weight of my own parents’ deaths catching back up to me in the brief respite from the chaos outside. Turning to the window, I saw just how frenzied it was. The battle still raged between survivors of the Requiem and Covenant ground troops, and what looked like metal coffins with parachutes fell from the sky. ODSTs, the craziest of the humans who volunteered to strap themselves into a tight metal box and fire themselves from a perfectly good spaceship. “And now,” I said as Summer Wind looked outside along with me, “Instead of border skirmishes with griffon gangs, we have a war with aliens.”She nodded, “Yes, we do. Come with me,” she said as she rose to her hooves, stumbling slightly from her inebriation.“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed her. She opened the door and revealed a room. In said room were clothes scattered around, an old bed stripped of covers and pillows, with a large blue trunk at the foot. So far, most of her living arrangements were almost barren. Summer’s a war hero, I thought, she deserves better than a small apartment.Summer Wind walked over to the chest, crouched, and opened it, while I stood at the door. She turned the trunk so the opening was facing me. Inside were photographs of a younger her in desert combat armor, two purple hearts, the Celestial Medal of Honor, and a bronze star. Reaching into the trunk, she started removing items while I walked closer, crouching beside her.The first item Summer removed out the chest was a dull grey revolver which she removed from its holster. It was ornately decorated with a white faux ivory handle, and engraved cylinder with gold leaf print. The barrel itself was cut down to a snub, small enough to fit in one’s pocket. Upon closer inspection, I could see the grey barrel and frame were also engraved in places.Summer Wind let out a small sigh, her tone somber, “My grandmother willed this pistol to my mother, and my mother willed it to me. Since I have no daughter to leave it to after the Gods take my soul into the Everafter, I might as well give it to you.” She said as she gently took my arm and placed the revolver into my right palm, “It’s a .38 special. Grandma carried it whenever she walked the streets, back when Manehattan wasn’t a nice place to live.”“I-I can’t accept this,” I said, trying to give the family heirloom back. I could feel the importance of this weapon to her. It was so strong it was almost tangible.She shook her head, “Snow would have never needed to use it. She was a good kid, innocent and never afraid, even when she knew she was dying.”“She was an alicorn,” I said. She probably would have been brought into royalty.Summer breeze nodded, “And you do not know how horrified I was when she was born with both wings and a horn,” the older mare said, stretching her own wings out.“Why were you upset?” I asked. Natural born alicorns were rare, wouldn’t that be a good thing?She shook her head, “It was a death sentence for her. Alicorns have the innate magic of all three pony races running through them at once. The results on a body that develops too slow physically to handle the magic are painful,” tears began to well up in her eyes and I winced. What made them special also killed them off at a young age. “For four and a half years she was my little princess, trying to make me smile when I was sad, even when her own pain made her cry.”The innocence of a child. “I would have loved to have met her.”Summer Wind blinked a few tears out of her eyes, “Take the damn pistol,” she said roughly, forcing her sadness to turn to anger, “You’ll need it.”I took the revolver and its holster, gently placing it back into the sheath. “Does it have a name?”Summer wind almost burst out laughing while still crying for her daughter, “Grandma once called it Condom on account of how many times it saved her virginity. Manehattan was a bad place to be a mare back in her time. Mom thought it was inappropriate and renamed it to Momma’s Lil’ Helper for no apparent reason. After she passed away, it was handed down to me. Since Mom renamed it, I felt the need to do it as well. The Summertime Special, I called it. It saved my sorry hide a time or a dozen in the Marines as my personal backup-piece. I think you should keep the tradition of renaming it with each new owner.”Looking at the revolver, I smiled, having a perfect name already picked out, “Snow, in honor of its true owner.”Summer gasped sharply, a soft, “Thank you,” slipping from her lips as the veteran marine took me in a tight hug. From how she’s been acting, I didn’t expect her to give me a hug. But even the hardest of people have their soft side. “Summer,” I began, wiggling away from the awkward situation, and trying to find a way to cheer her up, “Do you know either Flak or Shrapnel?”Summer let out huge laugh, “I know both of them. They kept me supplied with ammo through the six hours of firing my machine gun. That barrel was so damn red you could cook our powdered eggs on the thing for three days afterward. The enchantments were probably the only thing keeping the metal from warping to Tartarus.”“Oh, well they run a gun range now,” I said smiling, glad to have something to talk about her with other than painful memories, “Shrapnel was the one who taught me how to shoot.” Well, my Mom did when we lived out in Ponyville, lots of open fields for a filly with her first .22 rifle to learn how to shoot, but Shrapnel helped me with the bigger guns. “Of course,” Summer said, smiling and rolling her eyes, “Those two would open a gun range. They’ve probably fought their way out of the city by now.”I cocked my head to the side, considering her words, “I don’t think they needed to. Most of the Covenant are focusing on the Requiem.”“Ah, yeah, that Clone ship. Wish we had some of their tech and armor, though why is it white?” She asked almost rhetorically.“The Kaminoans who made them see in ultraviolet,” I said. Summer jerked in surprise, not expecting me to answer her question. “To them, the white armor is a dazzling array of colors.”“Interesting, you learn that from a Clone?”“Yes,” I said nodding, “His name was Cherry,” I looked down, sadness lacing my words as his image filled my memory, “He died… horribly… a few hours ago.”It was a few hours ago… right?“Summer,” I asked quickly, shaking the image out my head, “How long have the Covenant been here?”She shrugged, “Five, six hours.”I jerked in shock as I looked at the clock on her wall… I was unconscious for three of them.“Guess that bump I saw on the side and back of your head was a concussion right?” Summer asked, shaking her head slowly, “You went under didn’t you?”“Yes. When I woke up, everypony was dead but you and a griffon.” Then I realized something as I gave her a questioning look, “Why didn’t you leave the city yet?”The mare sighed and shook her head, “Grimm’s been sharpening his scythe. I’ve got Cancer in my lungs, so I decided to die in the city I loved, and not as a scared refugee,” she put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, and spoke like a mother would a child, “Midnight, promise me this above all things, even keeping a hold of Snow… never, ever start smoking.”I agreed, never intending on starting anyway.She let out a sigh of relief and started pulling more items from the trunk. “Next thing I’m going to give you it this,” Summer said as she pulled out a tan belt with a plastic canteen inside of a sand-colored pouch. Summer let out a lighthearted chuckle and smiled, “When I joined they issued us metal canteens and food in tin cans. Then the Corps started issuing us plastic canteens and MREs. One of the benefits of being old; you get to look back and see how much everything has changed.”“Yeah,” I said agreeing with her, “In the seventeen years of my life, I’ve seen technology go crazy. Cell phones, the internet, DVD replacing VCR, heck there were even rumors that we were going to start building in space.”“The Equestrian Space Station,” Summer said, “I was stationed at the base where a changeling sabotaged the rocket carrying the first piece. The entire project was scrapped shortly thereafter.”Summer pulled out another item from the trunk, a large, desert-tan backpack, “This here rucksack has enough pockets to pack everything but the kitchen sink,” Summer boasted, zipping and unzipping various pockets.“Whoa,” I said astonished, “Why are you giving me all of this?”Summer sighed, “Worlds gone to shit basically, and you need things to survive. Food, water, and weapons. I’m an old warrior way past my prime, so I might as well do something for my country again. Parting with a few things so you can protect yourself feels like the right thing to do.”I nodded as she inhaled, ready to speak again. “Now,” Summer said as she rummaged through the trunk, “here is the good stuff.” She pulled out two wooden boxes. Opening the first, there were speedloaders and a package of .38 special ammo. The second box contained a black combat knife, with a twenty centimeter blade. It would have nothing against that sword…My thoughts were brought back to the here and now as Summer set the boxes to the side. Turning, she reached into the trunk again, speaking as she did, “There’s one more thing I want to give you. Well technically not one, but you’ll get the idea,” She said. I waited patiently as she pulled out the next precious gift from the trunk.Her personal set of desert combat armor. Various shades of tan and brown arranged like leaves. The armor was old, before the switch to digital camouflage. She also pulled out a helmet, sandstorm goggles – just big plastic goggles with a black frame and elastic headband – pants, and black boots.Because of our hooves, Equestrians didn’t have to wear footwear like the humans, but rocks still hurt if stepped on, and boots prevented grinding your own hooves down on long marches.“Thank you,” I said, eyeing the uniform fondly “for all of this.”I immediately began to swap out my t-shirt and pants for the armor. Since there are three pony races, each uniform could be changed to fit each species. All I had to do was zip closed the holes on the back that once allowed Summer to fly in full uniform… if she had been capable of flight.I quickly finished dressing into the gear, slipping the speed loaders into a pouch on the canteen’s belt, along with the knife and Snow in their respective sheaths. I could smell old smoke and sweat in the fabric of the armor. It probably hadn’t been washed in years, but I didn’t complain. Each hole torn in the fabric, and each drop of old blood, told me that the armor had served Summer well.After I had finished, Summer broke down in a coughing fit. When it was over I asked slowly, “Are you okay?”“Cancer, remember,” Summer spoke in a hoarse rasp, wiping the blood I just realized she coughed up on her pants.“I’m sorry. I wish I would have known you before all of this,” I said as I began walking towards the bedroom door. I turned to face Summer, seeing her smile.“Thank you,” She said, “for letting me ramble a while. You don’t know how happy it made this dying mare to get that off her chest. I left the door open expecting a final fight to send me out on my own terms, but instead I got a friend who listened to me with attention.”“I was glad to hear them. It was a little distraction from all that’s going on outside. Speaking of, I’m going to see if I can sneak to the Requiem when nightfall arrives. The Clones there are bound to have a way out.”“Sure,” She nodded, “That sounds like a logical plan. Only one problem,” She stated raising a hand to point one finger to the ceiling, “The alien army separating you from them.”“I know,” I said, already having thought about the Covenant army, “You can come with me and I’d show you how I’d get past them.”“I’m dying of cancer,” Summer spoke lowly, but no hint of sadness in her voice. Then she chuckled, “My coughing will probably get us both killed.”I shook my head, “You spent six hours behind a machine gun against griffons. Cancer won’t beat you.” And if I managed to escape the city with her, I could help her find a doctor.“Thank you,” Summer said as she smiled, “I guess I can babysit you.”“Yes,” I nearly shouted, but forced myself to stay quiet, “You won’t regret coming with me.”“I already do,” Summer said sarcastically as she chuckled. Her face then became serious as she asked, “Do you know where Pack Rat’s storage is?”“No, I don’t,” I said shaking my head slowly, “Why?”Summer cracked a smirk, “Let’s say, theoretically, I violated a few laws and packed away a small arsenal because I used to be a paranoid old broad. We can go straight there, grab some high powered weapons, and then make our way to the Clones.”“Good,” I said nodding my head, “I’d feel safer bringing some more firepower.”“If you agree, shall we head out?” Summer asked without hesitation, gesturing towards the exit.“Let’s,” I replied simply.

Chapter 5: Requiem