Halo Ponies: Headhunter Edition

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.