Halo Ponies: Headhunter Edition

Chapters

An Unexpected Encounter...
Banshee on the Horizon
First Contact
Reprisals From Ponies
Chapter 5: Causalities
To Celestia We Go
Not a Happy Light Bulb
Dear Sweet Celestia!

An Unexpected Encounter...

November 25th, 2558
Burning. He was burning. But it wasn’t hot. How was he burning? Cold. It was so very cold. He couldn’t breathe. Cold, no air… wet? Water, he was underwater, deep. More burning. Not the cold, his lungs, his lungs… He needed air. He needed air!

He began to swim upward with slow, deliberate strokes. His muscles were too cramped from the cold and lack of oxygen. How much longer did he have? He couldn’t see the surface; was he going down? No. No, he saw stars. It was night. He was close. He needed air. He broke the surface with a large splash, his helmet visor covered with water, his vision fuzzy from oxygen deprivation. The automatic air-filters kicked on inside his helmet, pumping in cool, fresh air.

He couldn’t see any shore from where he was treading water. Was he in the ocean? It would explain the cold that permeated even the insulated layers of his suit. But where was he? How did he get in the middle of this body of water? Another, more morbid thought crossed his mind. Where was his partner? William-B273, Will for short, was his headhunter partner. They hadn’t been separated once for at least the past 7 months, and had grown very close. Perhaps Will was less fortunate than his partner and had drowned; or maybe he hadn’t even been in the body of water in the first place. But what had happened wasn’t the question right now; he would never see Will again if he froze to death treading water in some unnamed ocean.

He gazed up into the night sky, trying to locate some celestial body to guide him. A large moon was the only thing to be seen, surrounded by beautiful stars. There was little to no light pollution here, so chances of finding any kind of settlement were slim. He picked a direction that seemed to follow the flow of the currents and propelled himself slowly forward, loosening the cramps that had developed in the cold. He continued on for what felt like hours, but what was most likely thirty minutes at most. Just as he was beginning to give up hope of ever seeing dry land again, he spotted it: a small vessel sitting on the water. It was painted a bright pink color, with an unusual fin design on the rudder; no means of propulsion could be seen besides a small sail sitting on a green-painted mast. He attempted to hail the ship but was unable to connect to its onboard computer. Maybe this was one of the eco-colonies that existed in deep-space? It would explain why no engine could be seen onboard, and why no other signs of technology could be spotted.
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He was just going to have to do it the old-fashioned way, then. He swam faster than he had before, quickly overtaking the vessel. As he got a closer look he noticed odd designs on the side of the ship-- what appeared to be the small forms of brightly-colored equines. He debated whether or not to board. The person who owned this boat was either insane or very happy, both of which he didn’t want to see any of that night. But his primary goal was to get out of the water before he froze to death. He attempted to grasp the side of the vessel but found no purchase on its slick walls. He refused to give up, though, and with tremendous effort managed to pull himself up using only his grip for support. He rolled, gasping, onto the deck, his muscles seizing up from the effort. He attempted to get in some sort of capable state, knowing that any hostiles onboard would now be alerted to his presence.

He forced himself into a sitting position, bracing his back against the mast and putting his feet in front of him, leveling the barrel of his M6C and bracing it against his shoulder. He kept alert for any noise over the sloshing of the sea-water, his visor still obscured by water droplets. Just as he felt sure he was the only one aboard, he heard a faint rustling below deck. He tensed up again, listening harder than before for any more noise, and sure enough, the same rustling could be heard.
“H-hello, is anyone up there?” came a tiny voice, muffled by the ship’s walls. He felt relief pour through him-- that wasn’t any alien’s voice. It must be a human, an eco-colonist, whom he had happened upon. There would be a transmitter back at their settlement for sure, so he would be able to contact the fleet to come and get him.
“Excuse me, is there anyone up there?” the voice asked again, this time with a little confidence. In his relief he had forgotten to answer the person’s question.
“Yes. This is Spartan Richard B-294. Are you a colonist?”
“Oh, thank Celestia! For a silly second I thought a monster had snuck aboard!”
Judging by voice the person was mature, but judging by dialogue they had a childish mindset. Come to think, this could explain the cartoon horses painted on the ship.
“Please identify name and planet.”
“Oh, me? Umm… I don’t know what you mean by planet, but my name is Redheart. I’m a nurse in Ponyville. I’m out here to gather some sea-growing herbs.”
So a nurse out gathering plants? This supported Richard’s eco-colonist theory. But how could they not know what a planet was? Were they feigning ignorance, or were they that uneducated?
“Male or female, and please expand on where you live.”
“Well, I already told you I live in Ponyville—well, I guess technically I didn’t, but I thought you would assume… I live in Equestria, of course, I mean, who doesn’t? I’m a female which I thought you could judge by my voice, but obviously not. And-- and I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
Richard, who had been sitting calmly throughout all this, wondered whether or not to ask the girl to come up. She was obviously very timid, but was working through it at startling speed. Either that or she was very nervous and took to babbling whenever she was scared. He decided to follow his previous plan and drop the 20 questions, wanting to rejoin the fleet as soon as possible.
“Would you please take me back to ‘Ponyville’ or another settlement? I’ve been out on the ocean for the past few hours, and haven’t seen any sign of civilization.”
“Oh, you poor thing, of course I’ll take you back! If you’ve been treading the Startling Sea for more than even a few minutes, you’ll have a terrible cold!”
Richard heard some stomping that must have been someone coming up the stairs. Only one thing bothered him: the sounds he heard didn’t sound like footfalls. They sounded harder, more pronounced, and they sounded like two people walking up together. Four beats instead of two like normal. Perhaps this really was the Covenant and they had merely been tricking him, or maybe it was a rebel who had someone else hostage. Or maybe he was overthinking the entire thing. This person seemed nice enough, and was willing to help Richard get in contact with the fleet. If this wasn’t reason enough to trust someone then what was? He was sure this would be a perfectly ordinary human.
[A/N- This is my first time writing a Halo or Pony fic, certainly my first time writing a crossover, and my first time writing anything in general.]

Banshee on the Horizon

Chapter 2: Banshee on the Horizon

The gentle, hovering sound of death: That’s what greeted Richard as he waited for his mysterious host to come above-deck. The sound, of course, was that of a Banshee-- not the phantom predictor of death, but similar enough to set Richard’s nerves on end. He whipped around to face it. Its blue hover trail was clearly visible against the night sky. A Banshee against a single SPARTAN III armed only with a pistol… it wouldn’t have been fair if there were ten of them.
He could still hear the person coming up from below-deck. Just how long was this staircase? In any case, he needed to stop her from coming into the line of fire; a single bolt of plasma from a Banshee’s cannon would sear the flesh from her bones, leaving a charred skeleton in her place.

“No! Stay down there it’s dangerous up here!” he screamed. He heard a pause in the odd footsteps.

“What kind of danger!? Is it a sea serpent!?”
Richard stopped what he was doing for a moment, caught up in the pure ridiculousness of that question. He deemed it unworthy of a response; instead he began scavenging the deck for anything he could use as a weapon, cursing himself for not doing so earlier. He looked up at the Banshee again, now close enough to make out the shimmery purple hull. Richard noticed a dark cloud billowing from it, blocking the stars behind it. It was damaged and smoking. So damaged its weapon systems wouldn’t work? He would only know when it got close enough to fire.

That time was now. The Banshee fired three shots at the ship, two going wide while a third hit, setting the mast alight with its heat. He heard the girl scream as the ship rocked from the impact. His immediate thought was to ignore her, but having a frantic civilian onboard could be a problem.

“Redheart, I want you to stay absolutely calm; panicking could hurt you and others around you!” Richard yelled, wishing she was close enough that he could keep his voice down.

“O-okay… but what’s happening?!” Redheart called from below, her voice collected but worried.

“We’re under attack by a Covenant Banshee; do you have any weapons onboard?” The Banshee decided it was a good time to fire again, letting out another trio of blasts as it swooped low over the boat. These attacks were much more accurate, two of them landing inches from Richard. The deck was spared being set aflame, as the two bolts weren’t enough to get the wet wood burning.

“Weapons? I think there might be an old harpoon somewhere on the top deck!” Redheart responded, the panic in her voice replaced by confusion. Richard wondered for a moment why she would be so confused. They were under attack! Of course they would need weapons.
He crawled over to where several boxes of cargo were stacked, searching through them as thoroughly as he could in such a short time. The mast was now creaking and popping as its supports gave way. Richard would deal with that as soon as he dealt with the Banshee. Hot pieces of wood rained down on him. His insulated armor blocked most of the heat, but it was still uncomfortably hot.

Just as the Banshee was turning for another strafe, he found it: a medium sized harpoon gun, looking like it had just come out of a museum. Could this relic really take on a Banshee? But now wasn’t the time for just questions! He turned to face the Banshee, which was now flying towards him. He raised the harpoon to his shoulder, bracing part of its length on the railing of the ship, waiting until he could land a direct hit on the already crippled craft. Without warning, the Banshee accelerated. A green ball of energy shot from its fuel-rod cannon. Richard ignored this, aiming the harpoon for the Banshee’s remaining anti-matter pod. He fired.
The harpoon struck true, ripping the pod from the wing and sending the Banshee careening towards the freezing sea. Richard had mere seconds to act before the fuel-rod blast reached the ship.

The blast was just above the ship now and rapidly descending. It was then that the mast gave a final creak, ripping away from the deck as its base was burned through. Richard, ignoring the heat pervading his armor, threw himself at the mast, gripped it, and tipped it to the side so that the blast struck its upper section. This spared the ship, but Richard was not as fortunate. The massive shockwave that raced down the ruined mast hit him full-on. His life was spared only by the force-reactive gel that lined his suit; even so, he was brought to his knees. His grasp on the mast failed, causing it to tip into the sea and vanish beneath the waves. The unnatural green fire of the radioactive blast still burned as it sank. Richard noted with satisfaction that it struck the Banshee in its descent, knowing the pilot wouldn’t be getting out. That was the last thought he had before, like the Banshee, he sank into the darkness of oblivion.

First Contact

Chapter 3: First Contact

Richard wasn’t awake. He wasn’t exactly asleep, either. He could feel the world move around him. The contrast of the cool fresh air of the sea against the muggy hot air of a building was not lost on him. He could feel as his body was lifted to and from places, or when he shifted in his near-sleep. He lay there for days unending, not sure why he would not awaken. Was he dead? It would explain this entirely new experience. He had never slept this long.

Nurse Redheart fidgeted slightly in the cold wind. Other ponies gathered around her as a crowd slowly formed around the creature. She had brought it into town a week ago, and it still drew in the crowds. Whenever she brought it out for some fresh air they would be there waiting, staring and talking quietly as she pushed its wheelchair out the front door of the hospital; she always waited until the crowds dispersed to go in. It made her feel uncomfortable to leave in front of so many ponies.
She felt movement from the wheelchair. She looked down to make sure one of the brakes hadn’t dislodged, gripping the back of the chair with her mouth.

“Get me…inside…”
Redheart jumped from the sudden voice, the shock of hearing the creature speak pulsing through her.

“Whuh!?” spluttered Redheart around the chair still in her mouth.

“I asked you to bring me inside; I can feel the breeze so there’s no fooling me,” the creature said in a dispassionate voice.
“Okay!” said Redheart, pulling the chair backwards through the door.

“Don’t let anyone know I’m awake,” the thing said, letting its body go slack as if he were still in his coma. Redheart pulled him through the hallways of the hospital, ignoring the curious glances of fellow staff until they reached his room. She used her neck to push him through the door, pulling it shut behind her with her tail.

“Now, err… Mr. … Thing, what do you want?” asked Redheart, keeping a cautionary distance.

“I want to know where I am.” He looked straight at her as he said this. Actually, maybe he was looking at her and maybe he wasn’t; how could she tell with the helmet on?

“Well… you are in Ponyville, one of the towns in Equestria.”

He continued to look at her intensely for several moments, until she felt too uncomfortable to continue the silence.

“Why are you staring at me like that?!” she yelped, her fear overtaking her rational side.

“I’ve never seen an alien as odd as you.”
She was odd in Richard’s mind, closely resembling a horse-- no, smaller… perhaps a pony? She was obviously capable of human speech, easily conversing with him as she had, with no alien garble to separate her voice from a human’s. She was also a strange color: a pastel white with light pink hair, drawn neatly into a bun on which a nurse’s cap rested. Adorning her flank was a tattoo closely resembling a red cross, a small pink heart in each corner. She certainly looked the nurse she claimed to be.

“Me, an alien? You would be the alien in this case.”
Richard considered this for a moment; he wasn’t used to being called an alien. A demon or a super-soldier certainly, but never an alien. It certainly was a change to be the invader.

“I suppose you’re right, Redheart…”
The small-horse drew back, a horrified expression on her face, though it quickly grew into suspicion.
“How do you know my name!?” she asked, taking what he assumed was supposed to be an intimidating pose.
“You told me when I boarded your ship-- right before I saved your life, I might add.”
Redheart though about this for a second. Was he telling the truth? He was there when the ship was attacked, that much she believed, but how did she know he wasn’t the attacker?
“How do I know you weren’t the one attacking my ship? You could have killed the actual defender.” She said this in an accusing manner, hoping to draw some response from him.
“That’s fair.” He shrugged as he spoke, loosening his sore muscles. “I could have been the one who attacked your ship and killed that other alien. But you don’t think I am, do you?”
Redheart was taken aback, partly because he had hit her feeling dead-on, and more for his intimidating full size. He stood at least twice as tall as the tallest pony, Celestia excluded.
“Fine, Mr. Alien, I don’t believe you’re a murderer.”

“Well, that’s a mistake on your part,” he said, readjusting his helmet more comfortably on his head, “because I’m a bred killer, through and through.”
[A/N- Richard is pretty much used to dealing with alien at this point. He just doesn’t really get surprised anymore.]

Reprisals From Ponies

Chapter 4: Reprisals From Ponies

Richard stood silently in the darkness of a small room, more of a closet that connected to two rooms. A small widow was set into each of the doors, giving a good view outside, a poor one inside. Various clutter was stored inside, cobwebs decorated the corners, and dust sat in a thick layer on every surface. Richard was sure that if he didn’t have his helmet on he would be sneezing every five seconds. The aliens in the other room chatted amongst themselves. Only one other knew where he was; the rest thought he was still in his coma. He noticed a purple one who didn’t seem to be taking part in the conversation, trying instead to read a book. For some reason Richard couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Maybe that had to do with the odd stripes in her mane, or the unique tattoo adorning her flank-- or the fact she was levitating her book. At noticing this, Richard did a double-take.

Were these alien able to use some form of low-level telekinesis? It would explain how they were able to build all this hospital machinery, which they would never be able to do with their hooves. Could they all use telekinesis? Richard looked closer. Only the purple one seemed to use it… wait, no, now the white one had? Richard wanted to observe more, but he needed to get moving. He had already had Redheart fill him in on the Ponies’ government: two princess Ponies supported by a cabinet of trusted advisors. They seemed to have maintained an idyllic peace, from what little he had seen.

He went into a different room of the hospital. Having memorized its layout from a diagram shown to him by Redheart-she was proving herself invaluable- he knew exactly where to go. He heard voices from farther off, huskier than the mainly female voices he had been hearing. That must be one of the male doctors.

“Well I think the new advances in magical precision will allow a far greater number of important operations to be performed more safely; it simply will define the new age of medicine.”

The other doctor looked at him, a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

“It’s my personal belief that these new reforms are trying to promote a pro-unicorn medical system. What they need to do is develop more technologies in the way of the Earth Ponies! I feel like I’m going to lose my job to a unicorn any day!”

At this the other pony scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit.
“They won’t fire you! You’ve got one of the most secure positions here! You really should be happier that all these previously untreatable ponies are getting the services they need!”

At this the second pony hung his head low, mumbling un-enthusiastic apologies.
Of course Richard heard none of this, having already moved past the two bickering professionals. He advanced cautiously but quickly through the facility, using every back-corridor and side hallway he could. He was absolutely fascinated by the whole structure, it was normal in almost every way, yet another aspect the two species shared.
He knew he had to leave the hospital, and meet up with Redheart at the location she had described. Past that though he had no idea where to go or what to do, they had always told him that was his biggest flaw in training; plotting one step just in time for the next. Would he ever meet his team again? Headhunter Phalanx Team, ONI’s secret weapon against the covenant, a secret even to his fellow Spartan III’s. He was so caught up in thought he didn’t notice the small, yellow pony in front of him until he smacked into her. She turned and shrieked, the small noise ripping the air; she then turned and ran underneath a nearby bench, tail between her legs. For just a moment Richard was tempted to comfort her, but he quickly shook off the emotion, not knowing what had come over him. But her shrieks and whimpers could attract other Ponies, drawing unwanted attention to Richard. So did he run, calm, or eliminate? Hearing several worried voices from down the hole he chose the former, rushing through a different corridor.

But the Ponies would now know he was awake, the yellow one would obviously recognize him and raise the alarm; they would know he wasn’t in the coma. The last place he wanted to be was inside an enemy fortification with no clear way out. He looked for an alternate route to the one he had been using; the only thing he saw was a long hallway with windows at the end, potted trees spaced every few feet down its length. Wait? Windows! The answer seemed obvious now; he was only on the third floor, and a drop like this he would barely feel! He dashed over to the window, prying away the screws that held it in place, throwing away the remainder outside where it used to be. He took a look at the ground outside, thanking it for the lush grass that would cushion his fall. Richard jumped headfirst out of the window, the wind blowing harshly against him, the ground rushing up to meet him. He performed an expert roll, tucking himself into a ball and rolling with the force.

Unexpectedly he smacked into a pair of Ponies, a blue one with minty mane and a white one with multi-colored poofs in her mane. The white one shrieked and bolted, screaming all the way. The blue one however just stood there in shocked silence. Richard accounted this to her flight or fight reaction, she must have just not have been able to handle the shock. He stood quickly and was just about to run when he felt a mass knock into him. He was knocked to the ground by the considerable force, his head pushed down by strong hooves. He felt something… fondling his hands?

“Hands! Oh thank Celestia I’m not crazy! They do exist; the guys over in Canterlot will never believe this!”

Richard, slightly distressed, forced the Pony off his back with his strength; immediately trying to sprint away. The mint Pony wouldn’t be denied, rushing at Richard and tackling him once again. She grabbed his hands again, tugging on the hard enough to dislocate Richard’s shoulder.

“Darn hands! WHY WON’T THEY COME OFF THESE WRISTS?!”

With a final effort Richard jolted her off, grabbing her with his good hand and throwing her to the side. She flew through the air, the angle providing Richard a good view of her horn as it lit up. She shot a bolt of energy at him, scoring a blow on his midriff. He expected crippling pain, but instead feeling a slight tingling. Not wanting the Pony to re-attempt whatever the attack had been, he ran off into the town.

The mint Pony clambered to her feet, already knowing she wouldn’t catch up again. The white Pony returned to the seen, much more collected than before.

“Lyra, oh my Celestia I was so worried when the creature showed up! Are you are okay!?”

Lyra shrugged her shoulders, wincing slightly at the pain that persisted.

“Yeah, but it got a good hit on me. Good thing I hit it with a tracker spell. A chance to observe what has to be a one-of-a-kind creature! And did you see those hands!?”

The white Pony gave her a confused look.

“But doesn’t Twilight’s little dragon have hands?”

Lyra wiggled a bit, loosening a few kinks.

“But BonBon, his are all scaly! I don’t like them!”

BonBon laughed at her indignant friend. Bumping into her on purpose as she walked away, receiving a huff from the annoyed Pony.

Richard ran thoughtlessly through deserted city streets, having not found any of the landmarks Redheart had mentioned, most likely because of his fevered sprint after his encounter had left him completely displaced from his route. It was moments like these that got him truly worried, not knowing anything about your situation but the basics, one of your plans being backed up. He knew he was being forced to improvise, blessing the old crone who had taught him how. Whenever he heard a noise he would dive behind any cover he could until it passed. Taking any side street, or back-alley he could to minimize contact. So far his system was working; no other Pony had noticed him during his bout, any which came near passing by him without notice. Only one thing truly bothered Richard at the moment, he was still suffering the after effects of his coma. Odd skips in his vision and severe fatigue to name a couple. This made detection harder as he literally had to force himself to get any movement done. But he was a Spartan, he would persist.

Richard continued on like this for a while, at last spotting the tree-house that Redheart had mentioned. He was supposed to meet her inside, and then he would come up with the rest of the plan. Richard could only hope she hadn’t yet left, knowing he was hours past the meeting time he put on some speed; his sore muscles screaming in protest. He stopped inside an alley at the edge of the square, peeking up over an odd-smelling trash can. He noted it would be difficult to get to, noticing its large amounts of Ponies posing a predicament for the perplexed person. He needed a distraction that would clear the square… wait what? All the Ponies were filing out, most cheering and jumping for joy.

Richard himself stood in stunned silence, finding himself feeling the now-familiar expression of confusion. How was it that as soon as he needed them to the Ponies just disappeared? He decided to not question it, he could ask Redheart in the library and save himself some brain power. He crawled across the square to the tree.

Suddenly a noise broke the silence that had pervaded the square since its original emptying. A sort of thrum, a regular, droning piece of noise. A noise that made veterans shake in fear, the kind known, and feared, by any pilot.

The sound of a phantom.
Richard could get to the tree later, it was time to kill.

Chapter 5: Causalities

If the square hadn’t been deserted everyone would have died. It was not a poetic battle, full of heroics and ironic tragedies. It was a single bloody engagement between a lone Spartan crippled from exhaustion, and fully armed, fully manned (well, aliened?) Phantom cruiser. Most battle tacticians would agree that these were insurmountable odds to go up against, of course, these tacticians weren’t Richard.

He stood near the tree in the square, carts of food and other goods were arranged in a haphazard pattern around him; cutting off mobility and providing flammable material for the Phantom’s super-heated blasts. The only suitable cover of any size would be the very tree he was attempting to get to, which would also mean jeopardizing any civilians who remained inside. Namely, Redheart. Richard found his hopes turn from her being there to her not being there, losing his only native contact would be devastating.

He was faced with a difficult position, open area engagement against a Phantom, or risking his only ally? If he were dead than it wouldn’t matter if he knew a lot about Equestria now would it? He positioned himself behind the tree as the first volley of plasma blots hit him, the bark of the tree, amazingly, did not catch fire or even sizzle! Richard found himself thanking whatever divine being had granted him this reprieve.

Oh, by the way, this all took place in under three seconds.

Richard hoisted his pistol, aiming it around the tree and taking random shots to distract the pilot. This in turn allowed the gunner to get his exact location, plugging the area with plasma-fire. Richard used the smoke in the air to his advantage, sprinting along the other side of the tree and settling down in one of the Phantom’s blind-spots. He marked out the engines and cooling vents on his helmet, highlighting them in red and allowing the computer to do most of the aiming.

The Phantom took several well-placed shots to one of its cooling vents; the craft automatically sealed itself when injured, closing off all of the vents. Richard noted this with pride; his plan was to overheat it to the point that it was forced to land, then swiftly overwhelm the crew. He continued to cover himself with the tree, dodge the occasional bolt that got past it, and keep the vents closed. After only a few minutes the craft lowered in altitude, as if landing. This confused Richard, who knew the craft would take much longer to overheat than that.

The answer to the confusion came in the form of the blood-curdling shrieks of an elite pack, descending from the ship they formed a slowly moving phalanx that advanced toward Richard. The man himself noticed every detail from their moment of departure to their odd tactics. How they had released themselves from anti-gravity slots and descended slowly to the ground, how half of them carried the ever-feared energy sword, and how they seemed to be taking an almost human approach to the battle. Humans were the ones who generally favored defensive capabilities and methodical approaches, elites were known for rushing and overwhelming the enemy with superior force.

The troop ran forward, the front two firing off plasma bolts from dual guns, forcing Richard to take cover behind an abandoned apple cart. The bolts hit the apples repeatedly, smashing through the squishy fruit but failing to set it alight, which Richard was grateful for. Richard kicked up the zoom on his helmet, aiming his gun for any place on the elites that weren’t armored.

His volley stopped up two elites; they went down with purple blood gushing from their mid riffs. The last three drew closer together, making good use of the scant cover the carts gave, and only peeking out to fix Richard’s location, once achieved they fired off several shots giving them a few moments to advance. Richard noted with annoyance that he wasn’t able to get in any shots, pinned down as he was by the clever aliens. The only choice left to him was hand-to-hand combat, a nearly suicidal tactic to use, especially when they were armed with energy swords.

Too late for anymore thought on the matter, the elites rushed forward, crashing through the scorched fruit carts and trampling the goods underfoot. This set Richard off for some reason, it just seemed like such a, a, waste, for of all this specie’s hard work to be erased by a group of frantic elites. He rolled from his cover, raising his pistol in perfect form to fire off three bullets, all of which found their mark in surprised elites. Two more went down, clutching their wounds and screaming shrilly in pain. The third stared daggers at Richard, flicking his three-fingered hand in a smooth motion, releasing an energy sword from its curled tube handle, Richard tensed in anticipation; his adrenaline levels spiking to the highest they had been that day. But instead of coming after him, the elite turned to its fallen brothers, in two broad strokes their heads lay severed from their bodies, blood squirting out on the remains of an upturned carrot cart. Richard knew why the elite had done this, to be wounded was worse than death to an elite, and this wasn’t the only mercy killing he’d witnessed, by elite or human.

Kicking the corpses aside the last elite turned to face Richard, shuffling its feet soundlessly to get a better foothold on the blood-slicked ground. Richard reloaded his pistol, turning off his suit’s auto-aim feature to study the alien’s movements more closely. Suddenly it pounced forward, swinging the blade in an electrifying ark, almost clipping Richard as it passed. He swung around the elite, pressing his left leg between the elite’s and locking their feet together while his arms tugged in the opposite direction. The elite, already off-balance from its wild attack was knocked forward, turning in the air to try to land softly, it didn’t. It hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud, knocking the sword out of its hands and dislocating its shoulder, Richard untangled himself quickly from the mass before jumping back down to wrap his arms around it. The elite, while suffering from several injuries, was still in better condition than the Spartan, almost breaking the dead-lock hold the human had on him. The elite surged once more, breaking Richard’s hold and throwing him to the ground. Richard willed himself to get up, but didn’t have any more energy to do even that. The elite stood and brushed itself off, popping its shoulder back in place; it stalked over towards Richard, delivering a sharp kick to his side. Richard grunted in pain, cursing his weakness and stupidity for what was inevitably going to occur, his death. The elite crouched, took Richard’s helmet in its hands, and turned Richard’s head around to look it directly in the eye.

“You are weak demon. My brethren gain no honor in their deaths, such as you have sullied your own honor have you condemned them.”

Richard coughed inside his helmet, swallowing the blood pooling in his mouth.

“I don’t much care for death… but facing it is hardly the most difficult thing I’ve faced in life… But I can take solace in one fact…”

“And what is that, filth?”

“That I won’t die today… at least not right now…”

“How is that so, I will kill you as easily as a helpless child!”

“Most children don’t have an M6c pointed right at your skull.”

The elite’s eyes widened in anger, knowing that his gloating had been his downfall; Richard pulled the trigger, sending the majority of the elite’s head skyward. He rolled over onto his stomach, knowing he wouldn’t be able to kill another grunt if he had a rocket launcher in his hands, the crippling exhaustion kept him from doing most anything but breath. He looked over at the Phantom, which had risen once again during his struggle, it was fair enough that he was being killed by a pilot rather than face-to-face; made it easier to accept the inedibility of his death. The Phantom leveled out and began moving its forward guns, Richard heard the plasma bolts hiss as it left the chamber, overheated death sailing right towards him. He probably should have closed his eyes, but at that time the moment seemed to stretch on, erasing his need for fear. The moment still stretched on, unnaturally so, shouldn’t the bolt have reached him by now? He noticed an odd glimmer about the entire ship, so distracted by morbid thoughts that he hadn’t looked over the ship at all. Indeed it was covered in a shimmery sort of light, strangely familiar yet he couldn’t place from where. Suddenly he remembered where he had seen it, it had surprised him, yet he had disregarded it. But now, in so much vaster a form it didn’t seem like an odd biological trick, it seemed like a miracle. The source of it identified itself shortly after, a high, annoyed voice that only the firmest librarians mastered. Now he knew why she had been so interested in the book. In front of him stood a purple Pony, its horn illuminated in a fierce violet light, Richard noticed it was reading the same book as before. A leather-bound how to book, labeled “Time-Shield Spells, A Hundred Things You Wanted to Know but Were Too Afraid to Ask”.

“Now just what are you doing outside my library?!”

To Celestia We Go

Chapter 6: To Celestia We Go

Redheart, Richard, and Twilight Sparkle sat across from each other. Richard had his hands folded and resting on the table, Redheart nervously played with her mane, and Twilight gave the human a dirty look. They were all inside the library, Richard having been drug in by the librarian; her magic didn’t seem to work on his shields. Redheart had kept to her promise and met him inside, talking Twilight down from immediately turning him into the authorities. She might have been on his side, but neither of the ponies felt safe with him in the room, especially after having witnessed the scene of carnage outside. Richard himself was wary of Twilight, having been introduced by Redheart only moments before he could already feel hate coming off of her in droves. If he had to take a guess it would be because of the five corpses that rested just outside her tree-library, or the time-frozen phantom. The library itself was rather nice, spotless walls and a fresh natural scent gave the place some character, as well as the rows of books that dominated the main room. The three sentient beings weren’t in the main room but the kitchen, a side room to the main one.

“I want to know why those creatures are dead.” Twilight suddenly said, breaking the silence that had pervaded the kitchen. Redheart fidgeted more in her chair but didn’t say anything, though Richard could tell she wanted to know the same thing. He slumped back in his chair, wishing he could get some rest or food. But he knew he had to explain his situation to the Ponies in front of him, or risk making an enemy of their race which had shown to be more peace-minded than the covenant.

“If they weren’t dead I would be. So I killed them. Thank you for stopping the phantom by the way, I was too tired to deal with it.”

Twilight looked unsatisfied with his explanation, a scowl still dominating her other features. She moved in her chair, which seemed rather awkward for a pony to be sitting in. Suddenly Redheart cleared her throat; neither Twilight nor Richard had expected her to speak, so they both turned in surprise to face her.

“Were they the same creatures who attacked my ship? The ones you saved me from?”

Richard nodded in conformation; Twilight looked at Redheart in confusion.

“When did it save you?” she asked, sounding suspicious.

“When I went out to gather those sea-growing herbs, the ones I told you about, I heard someone stomping around up-deck. When I asked who it was he answered, I thought he was a pony before I came up, and by then he was already in a coma. I still don’t know what happened, but while I was below I heard odd noises and explosions, and when went to check after the noises stopped parts of the deck were on fire, and an odd machine, as well as the mast, were sinking below the waves. Richard told me later that he had stopped an alien flying-machine from killing both of us.”

Twilight sighed in exasperation, shaking her head back and forth while rolling her eyes.

“And you believed it? It’s obviously a murderer, how do you know he wasn’t the one attacking?”

As she was talking she waved her hoof accusingly towards Richard, who was currently trying to remove his helmet, finding it stuck in place. After Twilight and Redheart turned towards him he stopped, knowing how odd he must look.

“Well you can’t know, I don’t expect you to know. But I believe I have some questions for you, if you’ll humor me.”

Twilight’s frown deepened further.

“At least it’s well-spoken. Fine, I’ll answer some of your questions before you answer some of mine.”

Richard nodded, understanding her need for answers. It wasn’t every day a previously unknown alien species showed up and started killing other aliens.

“What technology are you using to perform all the telekinetic operations?”

Twilight looked at him, almost more exasperated than she had been with Redheart.

“What, don’t they have magic where you come from? Next you’ll be telling me you don’t breathe!”

Richard raised an eyebrow, then realized it was a pointless gesture inside a helmet.

“We don’t. Until today I would have brushed the belief of magic off without a second thought.”

Twilight looked at him sternly.

“If you don’t have magic how do you move your sun and moon? Or control the weather?”

Richard almost felt like smiling, he had found the craziest pony possible to talk to, just his luck.

“The sun and moon on the worlds we inhabit aren’t controlled by living organisms. They’re controlled by gravity, and the weather can’t be controlled by humans.”

“How can you not control them? How would you live!?”

She sighed.

“At least I know you call yourself a human now. It’s probably easier to identify with than ‘it’.”

Richard was annoyed the conversation had gone off track; he was supposed to be asking questions, not the Pony.

“I wish to talk to your superiors.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, stealing Richard’s idea, and put on a “oh please” face.

“Like I would let you near either of the princesses, you’d probably try to eat them.”

“I am omnivorous.”

Twilight gasped, covering her mouth with her hooves. She threw up a hoof accusingly and pointed it at Richard.

“I knew you were a monster!”

Richard sat back in his chair, letting his arms relax to his side. He really didn’t want to deal with an irate magician right now. He doubted anyone but the leaders could give him even the slightest help in finding his team.

“It’s not like I’m going to eat one of you.”

Twilight scowled, opening her mouth for another retort, but Redheart interrupted her, once again jumping into the conversation.

“Twilight, I highly doubt he’ll kill any of us. He just seems to be concerned with these ‘covenant’ creatures. Who knows, maybe the Princess would know what to do with him.”

Twilight ground her teeth in frustration, looking between Richard and Redheart.

“So now you’re on the human’s side?! We can’t risk the princess under any circumstances!”

Redheart looked as though she might back down; Richard knew he had to intervene.

“If your princess can control the sun and moon, or stop a phantom like you did, I doubt I’ll be a serious threat.”

Twilight bit her lip, looking divided. If Richard had to guess he would say she was torn between devotion towards the princess, and Richard’s sensible logic. He looked over to Redheart, seeing if she had anything to say, but she was looking directly at Twilight as if concerned.

“Twilight,” she softly said “Is this about the changeling attack? We all know what happened, and Celestia won’t be beaten twice.”

That piqued Richard’s curiosity, one of these god-princesses had been defeated before? And what exactly was the changeling attack, or a changeling? Twilight sighed, slumping her shoulders forward in a way that wasn’t too different from the ay Richard did it, looking resigned.

“I know… It’s just the princess and…,” she looked at Richard “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, it’s just that when you showed up all the blood and the flashes… It reminded me of a time I would rather forget. Please, accept my apology?”

Richard really wished to ask about the changeling attack, but realized the Pony was probably too sensitive about the subject. Be that as it may, he was glad for the apology, and a new ally in this world.

“Thank you Twilight, I accept your apology. I’ve been through a few battles before and I realize the stress it can create.”

Twilight smiled warmly, for the first time since she had met Richard in fact. She got up out of her chair and headed for the counter, levitating a few objects behind her.

“Now who wants coffee? I can whip up a pot if anyone wants some, I know I do!”

Richard thought that sounded pretty good, he didn’t know how the Ponies spoke English, or had so many human technologies, but it would be good to have some of his second-favorite drink. But a thought struck him, something he should’ve noticed from the first moment he woke up.

“Nurse Redheart, how did the doctors feed me in the hospital? My helmets stuck on my head, and there are no holes but breathing tubes.”

Redheart laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly.

“Oh that, see we-“

A sudden loud banging sound interrupted them, Richard cursed himself for letting his guard down; now the covenant had found him tired and sitting. He sprang behind the table, pulling it on its side and mashing it against the kitchen entrance. He braced himself against the hard wood, hoping that like the tree it would absorb plasma bolts. Twilight and Redheart stood in shocked silence; Twilight was the first to come out of her stupor. She pounded the ground with a hoof, her cheeks reddening in anger.

“Richard why did you flip my tabl-“

Richard cut her off, holding up a hand to signal silence, he flipped his pistol into his hand with a smooth motion, pulling back the slide to let a bullet into the barrel. He signaled for the two Ponies to get down, Redheart did so quickly, Twilight more slowly, grumbling all the way. Richard took a quick peek above his impromptu barrier, scanning the room for any sign of the covenant. He saw none, only a mint-green Pony who was… Wait, mint-green?! He ducked behind his cover quickly, hoping to whatever god existed in this part of the galaxy that it hadn’t seen him.

“I SAW YOU!” screamed the Pony, and Richard heard it charge toward him. He holstered his pistol, not intending to kill the Pony, which might hurt his relations with the locals. Instead he braced himself for impact, thinking it would try to jump the table. It didn’t. It rammed the table, sending Richard flying across the kitchen and into the coffee that was brewing; thankfully it hadn’t warmed up yet. The insane Pony continued that assault, tackling Richard and trying to pin him to the ground, to his credit Richard didn’t panic; he grabbed the Pony’s mid-riff, throwing her bodily into the counter. That didn’t seem to faze it however, as she leaped back into the fray with barely a pause to breathe. Strange, Richard thought, how I’m exerting my energy more on this pony than my firefight with the covenant…

He finally decided to end it and knock the Pony unconscious; he grabbed her around the neck and began to choke her, wishing to make her black out. She seemed to have the same idea, and wrapped her legs around Richard’s neck, who, to his surprise, found his airflow obstructed. Just when he had resigned to himself to death by Pony he felt a force take hold of his opponent. A shimmering aura encased it, forcefully ripping it away from Richard.

“Would both of you stop. It.” Hissed Twilight, her cheeks now burning red with anger, she looked pointedly at both the mint-green pony and the Spartan. She looked especially stern at the Pony.

“Lyra why in the great big world of Equestria are you attacking our guest!?”

Lyra looked annoyed at Twilight, giving her a deep frown.

“Twilight,” she said, almost whining “Why are you interrupting my observations?”

Twilight hardened her gaze further, giving a little whinny of exasperation; something Richard was seeing her do an awful lot.

“Lyra, answer my question.”

The Pony in question sighed, completely changing from the energetic mare she had been before, as if being drawn off the hunt for a single second made it lose its worth. It kept stealing glances at Richard, and despite her blank expression Richard could see the excitement in her eyes.

“Do you promise not to attack Richard?”

Lyra gave Twilight a look.

“Its name is Richard? That’s a rather un-climactic name don’t you think?”

Twilight rolled her eyes, expressing open contempt for the other Pony’s shenanigans.

“It still doesn’t answer my question of why you’re running around chasing him.”

Lyra suddenly grinned, ferociously her pupils shrinking like a madman’s; she openly stared in Richard’s direction. For the first time since he had awoken in the ocean Richard felt intimidated, madmen had always scared him more than anything.

“Because I know what he is!”

She tried to raise her hoof, momentarily breaking Twilight’s magical hold. It seemed only that she grinned wider, elation breaking through her previous collectedness.

“Forerunner.”

[A/N- I think this was my favorite chapter to write. Just having them interact without any violence or action was fun, as well as introducing both Lyra and Twilight as characters. Redheart still needs fleshed out more but I believe it's a good start. FINALLY broke the 2000 word mark (without any fighting), and have set up a good base for the next chapter. Ideas still requested, as well as locations and Ponies (or people) you want to see. Hope you enjoyed, don't forget to comment on what needs to be improved, and don't forget to like! (Wow longest author's note ever much?)]

Not a Happy Light Bulb

Chapter 7: Not a Happy Light Bulb

“Lyra not this again!” groaned an annoyed Redheart, getting up from the floor and brushing herself off. Lyra whipped her head around to face the nurse, a frown that almost looked painful adorning her face.

“Don’t give me that face, last time you started talking about it we found you unconscious in a ditch.”

Lyra sighed, her own horn lighting up and extracting her from the kitchen floor.

“That was because of an unsuccessful experiment, this time I have a real- living example!” she exclaimed this wildly, throwing both hoofs up in the air, miraculously maintaining her balance. Richard got to his feet without using his hands, shifting to where he sat on his knees, quickly leaning back on his toes and straightening up. He walked over to wear Lyra was standing on two legs, still arguing with Redheart and gesturing with her front legs. He tapped her twice on the shoulder; she turned around, instantly grinning when she saw him. He drew back his arm, and lightly clocked her on the cheek. She spun around twice before ramming into the counter, and promptly slid to the floor. Twilight- who was currently removing various confectionaries from the wreckage of the table –dropped the items she was magically manipulating.

“RICHARD!” she screamed, drawing up her body to the limit of her leg height. Redheart too drew up her body, then immediately dropped down to see how well Lyra was doing. Twilight stalked up to Richard, an angry scowl directed at the SPARTAN.

“Richard, why would you hurt her!?” she yelled, staring resolutely into his polarized helmet. Richard ignored the question, stooping down to look Lyra directly in the face.

“Tell me what you know.”

She stared back, her left eye drooping slightly. A large bruise was already developing on the side of her cheek.

“Here I was thinking you were peaceful.” said Lyra, brushing off Redheart’s attempts to offer her aid.

“I can be, when strange aliens don’t attack me twice in the same day. At least without being provoked."

“Hardly unprovoked, a previously unknown species appears, shows intelligence, signs of violence and a possible murder. Is hospitalized in an apparent coma, a couple weeks later it jumps out of a window into me and my friend. What else am I supposed to think?” Richard nodded his head, her reasoning was firm. He was still curious as to how she was so quick to call him a Forerunner.

“Why do you call me a Forerunner, how do you know about the Foreru-“ Twilight interrupted his interrogation, using a bolt of her magic to fling him bodily into a wall. He struck the hard wood painfully, his arms outstretched from his body. Twilight took a few steps forward, her horn steadily brightening. Richard felt something wrap around his wrists, he looked over, and saw tendrils of wood snaking out from the wall; wrapping around his wrists before sinking their points back into the wall. Twilight continued to walk forward, the wooden vines had stopped growing around him, he was a little relieved they had stopped at his wrists. Twilight looked Richard dead in the helmet, her faced screwed up in what appeared to be her form of intimidation.

“Just where do you think you are alien? I don’t know if the way you’ve been acting is normal for where you come from, but in Equestria that’s where we draw the line! You will not senselessly hurt Ponies within our borders!”

Richard tugged at his living bonds, they were weak enough to break if he had to, but he thought that would do little to disarm the situation.

“It’s not really all that senseless. She attacked me first.”

Twilight sighed, rolling her eyes theatrically.

“I don’t care who started it, you” she pointed at Richard “And her” she pointed at Lyra “Are not to fight anymore. Ever.”

Lyra and Richard stared intensely at each other from across the room.

“Agreed.” They both said at once, nodding their heads. Twilight smiled, still looking slightly drawn-out. Her horn lit up as she magically lifted Lyra from the floor, she turned towards Richard to release him but jumped back when he burst free on his own, ripping away the wood that held him. Twilight backed up a little, looking wary. Richard smiled to try to calm her, then remembered she couldn’t see him through the helmet. He lifted his arms to his head, tugging forcefully to attempt to dislodge it. Everypony stared awkwardly at him until he stopped, wondering if he would ever be able to get it off without a UNSC engineer team. Richard noticed how he had become the center focus, self-consciously brushing off his arms in an attempt to save face. Twilight looked around the room, fixing up various pieces of carnage with a quick burst of magic, soon she had everything in the room looking as if the fight had never occurred, and there was even a new pot of coffee brewing. She did another double check, assuring herself everything was in tip-top shape; she puffed up her chest proudly when she saw how good a job she had done. Richard, to say the least, was stunned. He had seen Twilight do some pretty amazing stuff, but repairing an entire room in a matter of seconds was amazing. But now wasn’t the time for ogling, he needed to accomplish what he had come here to do.

“Twilight, when is the soonest time I can meet with your leader?”

Twilight looked over her shoulder, giving him a small smile.

“You should be able to see her tomorrow, it’s the summer sun celebration, and everybody’s getting ready for her visit tomorrow.”

“That’s the reason they left the square?”

“I should think so, in fact, I have to go help. Make yourself at home, just don’t break anything, and don’t get in any more fights. Spike should be home soon to help you settle in.”

“Spike?” asked Richard, raising an eyebrow in a pointless gesture.

“He’s my dragon assistant, bye.”

Twilight bustled out of the room, levitating a cup of coffee behind her. Richard stood in place, not really sure what to do. And also… a dragon? Really? He sighed, shaking his head, hoping this world wouldn’t throw him any more curveballs.

“Richard,” said Redheart while leading Lyra to the door “I’m going to go see if Lyra’s okay, be back as soon as we get her fixed up.”

Lyra waved to Richard as she left, blowing Richard a small kiss. He now stood alone in the library, among the piles of books and the smell of wood. A dragon, really?!

[A/N- I really dropped the ball on this chapter, I re-wrote totally different drafts about 6 times, trying to do something to break the norm. But that didn't work out so well, and held me up for an outrageously long time. I'm happy with this chapter though, mainly because it's done, and buried forever along with my other nightmares. In happy news- NEW COVER IMAGE!]

Dear Sweet Celestia!

Chapter 8: Dear Sweet Celestia!

Nurse Redheart sheepishly paced through Ponyville’s crowded streets. She wasn’t sure if helping a patient escape from the hospital and helping to hide them was illegal, but she was sure it couldn’t be all that good.

“Oh Nurse Redheart, good to see you outside the hospital.”

Nurse Redheart’s skin resisted the sudden urge to leap off her body at the unexpected voice; she was too tense for this. She turned around to where a large blue unicorn was smiling at her. Only Pokey Peirce had a horn that sharp.

“Oh, Pokey, you really shouldn’t sneak up on a mare like that.” She hissed through her clenched teeth, forcing a clearly-fake smile.

“Sorry Redheart, I’m used to sneaking up on the kids to pop their balloons. I just wanted to thank you for treating my uncle during the ‘baked bads’ crisis. The other doctors wanted to use a stomach pump!”

“Ah yes, I remember that fiasco. Ponyville had to step up food inspection afterwards, made it a lot harder for the Cakes to sell anything. By the way, have you seen Twilight around?” She was more relaxed by this point, having let all her muscles un-tense.

“Yeah, I saw her by town hall a few minutes ago; I think she was looking for Rarity. Somethin’ about a… stuck helmet was it? I think she was… Redheart?”

The stallion found himself standing alone in the street, the only sign that Redheart had been there was a comical Pony-shaped dust cloud. Pokey looked around, and seeing the mare nowhere went off to terrorize more children’s balloons.

/*W*\

“William watch out!”

The other SPARTAN turned, letting out a trio of bullets. In front of him several flood forms fell to the ground, still twitching and gasping in their twisted way.

“Thanks Richard.” William said, swiping two fingers over his helmet, a SPARTAN smile. Richard returned the gesture.

They had been sent here, to the Covenant High Charity, to investigate the flood outbreak. They were supposed to have to have met up for evac by this point, but the flood had turned the High Charity into a beehive of flesh and toxic gas. Organic matter was the only thing that seemed to hold any structural dominance; it was fascinating in a horrifying sort of way. The original map they had been given was useless, having only confused them the farther than they had travelled. Richard activated his COMMS network, signaling the nearby frigate to tell them the situation.

“This is Richard signaling frigate 5th Of November, we need transport from the High Charity. Our map is useless, and we’re surrounded by Flood, Requesting immediate transport. Over.”

“Richard this is the 5th Of November, we’ll get a pelican to the nearest entryway. Get there and pop a flare. Over.”

Richard turns off the COMMS, turning around to address his partner.

“William we need to—“

He tried to pivot on his two feet, but failed and fell forward on the ground, scuffing his chin. His helmet? Where was his helmet, where was his armor, where were his hands?! He raised his arms, trying to look at his missing appendages; all he could see were two stark white stumps. Why!? These were, these were Pony hooves, but he was human!

“William I—“

He looked up from the horror of his transformation to be greeted by an even worse one, his partner William stood in front of him, trailing orange blood on the floor. Huge pieces of his armor were missing and the holes oozed foul-smelling pus. A tentacle of an infection form hung out of his abdomen, convulsing with each beat of his failing heart. He still clutched his rifle in one hand, raising it slowly to aim directly at Richard’s head.

“You did this to me. You made me this way.” It said, completely lacking emotion. It pulled the trigger, Richard screamed as—

“Richard!?”

Richard jerked awake, panic still gripping him. He went for his gun before he was fully aware, firing off two shots at random.

“RICAHRD!”

He stopped all action, stopping a scream he hadn’t noticed he had been screaming peter out. He looked around, expecting the flood infested walls from his nightmare. Instead, he found himself still in Twilight’s library, curled up on an easy chair in the main room. The only part of his body to have moved was his arm, still clutching his pistol, all the rest of him was curled in the fetal position. He spotted an aquamarine Pony crouched down behind a pile of books, her arms clamped down over her head. Richard pulled himself into a sitting position, holstering his firearm.

“Lyra is that you?” he asked, shaking his head to dislodge some of his post-wakeup sleepiness.

“Is that me!? Of course it’s me! You know, the Pony you almost killed!” She roared, picking herself off the ground and marching furiously towards the groggy Spartan. She raised her hoof, and smartly clopped him on the face, quickly backing away to rub her injured hoof.

“That might have worked; if I weren’t wearing one of the strongest helmets in the galaxy.”

“Stop using words I don’t know and stop shooting me, and I’ll think about it next time.”

“To my defense I shot at you. If I were shooting you in earnest you would be dead.”

“That’s not the point. I came here to check on you, not argue.”

The Spartan raised an eyebrow.

“Check on me? Why?”

“Mysterious warrior all alone in a new place? You guess why I was checking on you.”

“Oh, to see if I was being a good Spartan.”

“Now you get it, and I’m glad I did. You were screaming so loud I could hear you from outside the library!”

“Oh, that, it was nothing.”

The Pony put on an unbelieving face.

“So you just scream at random times?”

“… Yes.”

“I just—“ She sighed heavily. “I don’t care enough to keep asking. I’m beginning to think Forerunners are more trouble than they’re worth.”

There she went again, dropping the F-bomb. Why wouldn’t she just accept he wasn’t a Forerunner and leave it at that? He decided not to bring it up; she would have to accept it sooner or later, so why try now?

“You seem a bit more negative than usual.” Richard said, getting to his feet and swiping off the thin layer of dust that had collected on him while he slept. His sudden nap did bother him a bit; he usually could control himself for days without any rest. He was slipping, that was certain.

The unicorn ignored him, turning towards the door and trotting outside, expecting Richard to follow. The Spartan did with some reluctance, his muscles not wanting to move properly. He had to stoop a bit as they exited, the door being a little small for him. He observed the square, which looked drastically different from when he had first been there. The bodies of the dead elites had been removed, as well as all the blood stains. All the carts had been put in their proper place and repaired; the few whose contents had been smashed were now full to the brim with product. The phantom was gone from the sky and all the plasma burns on the ground were missing. It was an impressive cleanup to say the least.

“How did you manage to get the square looking this way? When I blew through we trashed it in the fight.” Richard asked, looking for any signs of persisting damage.

“OH!” Lyra yelled, doing a little jump. “I didn’t hear you come out. Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry. But the damage, how’d you fix it?”

Lyra shook her head a little, a slightly dazed expression on her face.

“Twilight used a recall spell. Anything in the square went back to the where it had been at the time she wished. I think it was about two hours before we found you that she set it back to.”

Richard raised his eyebrow. “Interesting, she can do that on anything she wants?”

“Yeah Recla— Richard, it takes a lot of power though. Only the strongest unicorns can do it, and only then a couple times a week. Biological constructs take more power to do, I can’t imagine how hard it would have been for Twilight to recall the entire square, and those monsters!”

“So Twilight is a powerful unicorn?”

Lyra nodded her head. “The most powerful this generation, and she’s getting stronger by the day. She was powerful enough to become Princess Celestia’s personal student when she was just a filly.”

“She knows your leader well then?”

“Yeah, but now we better get moving. Twilight had an idea on how to disguise you in order to move around more comfortably until you talk with the Princess.”

“A disguise, eh, sounds okay.”

They set off from the square, disappearing deep into the back alleyways as Lyra led the Spartan to his destination.

/*W*\