The Lunar Spartans

Oddball

Somewhere in the Frozen North

‘You think my frames will be okay?’ Dawson asked as he and Jackson trudged north, battling thigh high banks of snow and gale force winds that couldn’t make their minds about whether they were helping the two Spartans along or pushing them back.

‘No idea.’ Jackson said. ‘You told them to be extra careful with them all, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well then.’ Jackson said. ‘Who’s going to run the risk of pissing off a Spartan by smashing his collection of valuable and rare photo frames? I can’t think of that many people.’

‘Luna might.’ Dawson said as a particularly powerful gust buffeted the pair, knocking them back a few paces. ‘After all, she does have the power to move a freaking moon around. I think if we weren’t so useful to her, Luna would have smashed us like flies long ago.’

‘She might break your frames, yes.’ Jackson said when the wind changed direction and began pushing them forwards. ‘But she’s not going run the risk of getting on our bad side. Besides, after the night we had, I think she’s happy with us. Well, me at least.’

‘Do I even want to know what you did?’

‘Meal with a view.’

‘I did not need that mental image.’ Dawson said.

‘Why?’ Jackson said. ‘I’m betting you go down on Lyra all the time. Why is me eating Lu-Lu out worse than that?’

‘I’m with Lyra, not Luna.’ Dawson countered. ‘She’s your fuck buddy, not mine, so I’m not attracted to her like you. It just seems wrong to go down on a pony.’

‘Says the guy that read through all of Luna’s porn collection in three days.’ Jackson said as the wind changed direction yet again, pushing against the two.

‘That’s different.’ Dawson said. ‘I simply replaced every mention of the word pony with an appropriate human term and pictured humans doing the acts rather than a Pegasus and an Alicorn. True, the scenes didn’t quite translate. I’ve no idea how a woman can spread her wings open involuntarily and let loose a burst of magic from her horn while having an eye rolling orgasm but other than that, I wasn’t too bothered.’

Jackson shook his head. ‘You need some friends in life.’

Dawson let out a faked sob. ‘I know.’ He sighed then resumed walking. ‘So why exactly are we out this far?’

‘Because a, Luna wanted to get us as far away from her as possible after we burned Hoofington to the ground.’ Jackson said.

‘Hey, that was all you.’ Dawson said, pointing a finger at his teammate. ‘I did nothing to help set that blaze, nor did I endorse it.’

‘You held the marshmallows while I did all the work.’ Jackson said. ‘And I didn’t hear you complain as we roasted them over that Sunnie’s corpse.’

‘I said the taste was weird.’ Dawson said. ‘Doesn’t that count?’

‘No.’ Jackson said. ‘And b, she wants us to recover this rock or crystal thing so she can raise the sun by herself. The only problem is that said rock is held deep within a massive stone fort way in the north and the last two battalions she sent to recover it were never heard from again.’ The wind began blowing them sideways. ‘Luna is hoping that Squealing Wombat can succeed where they failed.’

‘What happens if we do fail?’ Dawson asked.

Jackson shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. I skipped that part of the mission briefing.’

‘How much of the briefing did you read?’

‘Just the important parts.’ Jackson said. ‘You know, the location.’

They trudged on in silence for a few seconds.

‘Anything else?’ Dawson asked when Jackson didn’t follow up.

‘No.’ Jackson said. ‘I just memorised where we have to go.’ He walked on for a few steps. ‘I hope.’

Dawson stared at him. ‘Were you drunk when you read over it?’

‘No.’ Jackson said. ‘Well. Maybe.’ He let out an exasperated groan at Dawson continued stare. ‘Okay, yes. I found a bottle of Tranquillity Moonshine and one sip led to another until I found myself lying in the living room of a unicorn family and they would not stop screaming.’

‘Isn’t Tranquillity Moonshine only drunk by Princess Luna?’ Dawson said.

‘It is.’ Jackson said.

‘And she keeps it locked away in her liquor cabinet that her, and only her, is allowed to open?’

‘She does.’

‘So how did you happen to find some lying around?’ Dawson asked. ‘Especially when Luna has it escorted to her room by two guards and every other bottle locked away in a vault guarded by not one, but three platoons of highly trained guards?’

‘Maybe found isn’t the right word I should have used.’ Jackson said. ‘Appropriated would be more accurate.’

‘You broke into her vault to get some booze?’

‘Uh.’ Jackson said. ‘Yeah. Vault. Let’s go with that.’

Dawson shook his head.

Somewhere in the Frozen North

The wind died down after a few hours but the snow picked up, reducing visibility to barely twenty metres in any direction as Dawson and Jackson saw their first sign of life in the icy wasteland.

It was the frozen corpse of a New Lunar Republic soldier.

Dawson crouched next to the body and gave it a quick glance over.

‘No obvious wounds or injuries.’ He said. ‘Nothing to suggest he was killed by Sunnies.’ He went to use the pony’s leg to tilt him into his back, only for the appendage to snap off. ‘And judging by the fact his body is frozen solid, he’s been here a while.’

Jackson, who had his back to Dawson, said, ‘How can you tell his body is frozen solid?’

‘Just a hunch.’ Dawson said, lobbing the leg at Jackson. It collided with the back of the Spartan’s head, catching him by surprise. ‘My guess is this guy froze to death and they just left him behind.’

‘That’s kind of cold, isn’t it?’ Jackson said as he absently rubbed the back of his head, looking around in a vain attempt to spot anything that might give them a clue as to how or why the pony was dead and alone.

‘Will you stop?’ Dawson said.

‘Not really.’ Jackson said. ‘If there’s a chance to make a bad pun, I’m going to use it to the best of my abilities.’

‘Goddammit.’ Dawson muttered as he stood and walked away from the body.

Jackson let out a dark chuckle and did the same, headed off on a tangent to Dawson. ‘You think that guy was part of one of the two missing battalions Luna sent to get the rock?’

‘Seeing as how he was wearing standard issue NLR armour? Yes.’ Dawson said. ‘I think he was.’

‘So where are they all?’ Jackson asked.

‘Who knows?’ Dawson said. ‘If someone did know, they wouldn’t be missing now, would they?’

‘I’m betting they ran out of supplies and froze to death.’ Jackson said. ‘Or got set upon by weird root things that have spikes and can breathe some kind of knock out gas, their bodies wrapped up and splayed, leaving them to the mercy of this one slimy vine that slowly creeps towards them, some kind of goo dripping from the tip, that closes within a few metres then darts forwards, aiming for-‘

‘Stop right there.’ Dawson said loudly to Jackson, throwing a clump of snow at him. ‘I have seen more than enough hentai, and know that your mind is fucked up without a shadow of a doubt, to guess where you were going with that.’

‘I wasn’t going anywhere with that.’ Jackson replied. ‘The vine was.’

‘I know.’ Dawson said. ‘It’s the place the vine was going towards that I don’t want to know.’

Jackson shrugged and threw some snow back at Dawson. ‘You’re no fun.’

‘I like to think of it as keeping my sanity rather than being amused.’ Dawson said.

‘You lost that the moment you met me.’ Jackson said.

‘Tell me about it.’ Dawson muttered.

The pair carried on, moving in a roving search pattern, looking out for anything out of place in the wintery land. At first, their search came up empty but as time wore on, they began seeing the remains of an armed force passing through the area.

Crates would appear here and there, little wooden islands in a sea of white, followed by trebuchets and catapults, icicles hanging from the wooden frames. Dawson nudged the firing mechanism of one and it snapped, releasing the firing arm. A large lump of snow sailed high into the air and was lost from sight soon after.

‘Okay.’ Dawson said as they walked away. ‘Now we know it still works.’

From crates and catapults, they began seeing more dead bodies, all of them wearing NLR black to begin with, but as time wore on there was the occasional golden gleam of a Solar Empire soldier.

Jackson paused to examine one. ‘I’m guessing we’re close to the rock thing we’re supposed to be after.’

‘Just because we’ve found a dead Sunnie?’ Dawson said.

‘Yup.’ Jackson said. ‘Looks like he got stabbed by a spear.’ He carefully moved the body to reveal the only visible wound, a single gaping hole in the pony’s flank that, upon prodding with an icicle, went all the way to almost the other side. ‘I think.’

‘You think?’ Dawson said.

‘Yup.’ Jackson said. ‘The wound is a little too narrow for an NLR issue spear. It’s more of a circle than a wide slit. Could be a sword but I don’t think our guys are carrying rapiers.’

‘So what did kill this guy?’

Jackson shrugged. ‘That, my bullet sponge, is the million bit question.’

‘Best guess?’

‘Could be that a soldier’s spear had the tip snapped off but the owner either didn’t know or didn’t care and they decided to run someone through with it.’ Jackson stood and dusted his hands down as he and Dawson carried on. ‘That might be why the wound is a circle. Spears have circular shafts.’

‘Where are the splinters of wood then?’ Dawson asked.

Jackson shrugged again. ‘It was only a guess.’

‘Then what use are you?’

‘Strategic planning, tactical planning, ability to adapt to quickly changing situations, good shot with assault and battle rifles, keep my calm in the heat of battle, and being skilled in most forms of warfare, which is why I can change plans on the fly.’

‘Other than that.’ Dawson said. ‘What use are you?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jackson said.

More minutes passed by as the Spartans kept following the trail of debris and bodies, occasionally examining one of the frozen lumps.

One such body yielded something neither had seen on the previous corpses.

‘Is that a tentacle?’ Dawson asked as Jackson pulled a metre long black icicle thing from a wound on one Sunnie’s chest.

‘Don’t think so.’ Jackson said as he turned the frozen object this way and that. ‘See, tentacles usually react the same was as flesh does when frozen. Snapping under the slightest of pressure due to the brittleness. This feels more like wood.’ He rapped it with his knuckles. ‘Notice how it hasn’t shattered into a thousand pieces?’

Dawson nodded.

‘Means I’ve got wood.’

Dawson smacked Jackson upside the head.

‘More to the point, someone or something was using this as a weapon.’

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Dawson said. He crouched beside the body and gently rolled it onto its back, revealing more of the frozen wood wrapped around one of the pony’s hooves. ‘What do you make of this?’

‘Dunno.’ Jackson said. ‘Check his other legs.’

A quick inspection showed that of the three remaining hooves, two had the same frozen wood wrapped around them and the third was covered in ligature marks, suggesting that someone or something had used them to incapacitate the soldier.

‘Looks like they were slashed by a sword.’ Dawson said as he examined one of the bindings. ‘Someone tried to free this guy.’

‘Who was the one behind the wooden ropes?’ Jackson asked. ‘That stuff’s nearly two inches thick. Not the easiest stuff to bend, especially under combat conditions and with a struggling captive.’

‘Maybe a unicorn was behind it all.’

‘Who’d use tree branches to tie up and kill a guy?’

Dawson shrugged, scanning the surrounding area. He spotted something and began walking towards a thin black line a dozen metres away.

It was another of the frozen branches, standing proud of the snow with icicles hanging from it.

Jackson joined his partner and gave the branch a quick tug, trying to dislodge it. The branch didn’t budge.

‘Clear away the snow?’ he suggested, prompting him and Dawson to dig down until they reached solid ground, upon which they found the branch was still firmly planted into it. Even with their combined strength, several choice words, and nearly five full minutes of exerting themselves, the branch remained where it was.

‘How the hell did a unicorn manage to pull not one, but five of these things from the ground during combat when we can’t even pull this bastard out between us?’ Dawson asked as they gave up.

‘Maybe they were stronger than us.’ Jackson said. He looked off into the distance, thinking, then snapped his fingers with realisation. ‘Or maybe-‘

‘Don’t you dare say these things are alive.’ Dawson interrupted. ‘Don’t you even think that. Because I will not believe that branches that came from the ground managed to kill a guy. And if they did do it, they will not. I repeat. WILL NOT. Try to impregnate, play with, or otherwise violate our various orifices, with a slimy branch, all in the name of whatever sick plant desire they may or may not have.’

The branch began creaking, its tip inching one way then the next, as steam began rising from its wooden surface. As both Spartans watched, a faint dribble of some unknown white liquid emerged from the very tip of the branch.

‘This proves nothing.’ Dawson said as the branch started to become more animated, moving with greater range towards the Spartans.

‘You’re no fun.’ Jackson said. There was a crack as more of the branches emerged from the ground, sluggish and stiff in the subzero temperatures. ‘But until we find your sense of humour, I suggest we run that way in a swift manner, grab Luna’s grey rock from whatever thing it’s in, run back this way, and deliver the object. All without being deflowered by a flower.’

‘Agreed.’ Dawson said. ‘On three with a girlish scream?’

Jackson nodded. ‘On three with a girlish scream.’

Both Spartans faced the general direction the skull was supposed to be.

‘Three!’ they yelled in unison, unleashing a high pitched scream as they began fighting their way through snow and branches.

Somewhere in the Frozen North

Jackson and Dawson leaped over a gap in the floor, landing in a flurry of snow on the other side as dozens of branches trailed after them, snaking through the air like wooden snake things chasing after two fleeing Spartans.

‘Fuck this shit!’ Dawson yelled after the branches cleared the gap with ease. ‘Any ideas, commander?’

‘Yeah, several.’ Jackson said. ‘They all include not getting caught by those things.’ He pointed to something in front of them. ‘Run that way as fast as you can and don’t stop for anything.’

‘You got it.’

The pair put on an extra burst of speed and began leaving the branches behind as the snow started to thin out, replaced by hard packed ice that Jackson and Dawson gouged chunks out of as they sprinted across its surface.

In the distance they could just about make out a massive stone structure of some description surrounded by several smaller shapes which, as they drew closer, resolved into Solar Empire tents, catapults and trebuchets arranged into defensive positions around the stone structure.

‘Bollocks.’ Dawson swore. ‘Now we’ve got to get past these guys as well?’

‘Yup.’ Jackson said.

‘Alright then.’ Dawson said, unlimbering his assault rifle. ‘Why not?’

Jackson drew his gun as well as they ran ever closer to the Sunnie position, chased by the living branches.

The sentries on the camp’s perimeter quickly spotted the incoming team who weren’t even trying to hide their presence and raised the alarm, giving the signal to launch rocks at the Spartans.

They ducked and weaved, narrowly missing being crushed more often than not, then came within shouting distance of the camp.

‘Spartaaaaan!’ Dawson began yelling as he started firing from the hip at the nearest target. ‘Dawsoooon!’

‘And I’m Spartan Jackson!’Jackson added as his assault rifle began firing too. ‘And like a bat outta hell, we’ll be gone before the branches come!’

‘Its morning, dumbass.’ Dawson shouted at him.

‘Not today, it isn’t.’ Jackson said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the approaching foliage.

‘Fair enough.’

They blasted past the outer defences, dropping Sunnies in ones and twos, until they came upon the entrance to the stone structure, a massive opening in a solid wall of granite that was lit from within by some unearthly source.

Several archers and spearmen stood guard by the opening but ultimately were unsuccessful in stopping, even slowing the Spartans who just ran past, assault rifles up and firing, and entered the stone building/cave proper.

More Sunnies awaited them, shouting warnings to those behind them to either set up defences or to come and try and help stop Squealing Wombat from making any further progress.

Jackson responded by grabbing a nearby flaming torch and began waving it around.

‘Oh, shit.’ Dawson said when he noticed.

‘I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE!’ Jackson bellowed, smacking one Sunnie across the cheek with his newly acquired weapon, sending sparks flying into the air. ‘BOW BEFORE ME, MORTALS. FOR I, SPARTAN ‘HELLFIRE’ JACKSON, AM COMING TO BRING DOWN, UH, HELLFIRE STUFF DOWN ON YOU! YEAH!’

‘Smooth.’ Dawson said as his partner clubbed another pony with an uppercut then ducked as a Sunnie unicorn threw a boulder his way. ‘Hi, Tom.’

‘TOM? MY NAME IS HELLFIRE, TIM-TIM.’ Jackson shouted. ‘YOURS IS TIM-TIM, TIM-TIM. NOW, ONWARDS!’

The torch wielding Spartan unleashed a war cry of some description and charged headfirst into a thronging crowd of ponies, tossing them high into the air as Dawson followed but at a more sedate pace, shooting the survivors of Jackson’s rampage. Though right now, he was in his Hellfire persona, a loud and violent warrior with delusions of godhood brought out when a flaming torch and enemies were present.

It was a mixed blessing. Hellfire could lay waste to any number of enemies when he came out but had an annoying habit of calling Dawson Tim-Tim. Why he did it, Dawson didn’t know. He just knew it was annoying.

Jackson skewered one pony through the eye, lodging his torch there, then grabbed a fresh one as he continued.

‘TIM-TIM, OUR QUEST IS NEARLY AT AN END. FOR I, HELLFIRE, THE GOD OF HELLFIRE, SENSE AN ARTEFACT OF GREAT POWER COMING FROM SOMEWHERE AHEAD OF US.’ Jackson kicked another pony in the crotch and picked up their sword, brandishing it, and carved up the next poor pony. ‘FOR THE REALM OF HELLFIRE AND THE NEW LUNAR REPUBLIC!’ Jackson unleashed another unintelligible scream and got to work on the next batch of victims.

Dawson rolled his eyes. ‘My name is Dawson, you mother humper.’

‘NOT ALL OF THE WOMEN I SHOW THE FURY OF A HELLFIRE GOD ARE MOTHERS.’ Jackson said. ‘BUT BY THE END, THEY ARE MOTHERS TO BE SO, TECHNICALLY, YOU ARE CORRECT TIM-TIM.’

Dawson sighed, knowing that he would only have to endure Hellfire for a few more minutes at most before he could snap Jackson out of his delusion using a key phrase he had discovered almost by accident.

More Solar Empire soldiers came for them but between Dawson’s assault rifle, some grenades, and Hellfire himself, they died as quickly as they came.

Then a new threat appeared.

As he watched, Dawson saw something snake from the cracks in the wall. Something snake like and black.

‘Oh, my God.’ He said. ‘They’re coming out of the walls! They’re coming out of the goddamn walls!’

Jackson/Hellfire turned to look at the walls at Dawson’s cry and saw the branches from earlier forcing their way in through whatever cracks in the walls there were. Already several of them had ensnared some Solar Empire soldiers and stretched their legs out, leaving them vulnerable for a fifth branch to appear, a thick white liquid dribbling from the tip.

If Jackson saw this, I’d never hear the end of it, Dawson thought, thankful that whatever Jackson did as Hellfire, he didn’t remember anything about it.

‘FUEL!’ Jackson shouted with glee, seeing the branches for what they were. Wood. ‘HELLFIRE SHALL BE SPREAD ALL ACROSS THIS VILE TEMPLE AND IT SHALL BE TURNED FROM THE SHRINE OF A CELESTIAL WHORE TO THAT OF A HELLFIRE STUD.’

‘Oh, shit.’ Dawson said again as Jackson darted forward, breaking the branches and throwing them into a pile that was quickly getting bigger with each passing moment as more and more branches met their demise at the delusional god.

Using this new distraction, Dawson slipped between the branches as they tried to stop Jackson and capture all the Solar Empire soldiers, heading deeper into the complex until he entered a large circular room, in the middle of which sat a pedestal illuminated from above by a single shaft of light through which snow would occasionally drift through.

On top of the pedestal was a vaguely cranium shaped off-white object angled in such a way that it seemed to be looking at Dawson as he approached, its empty eyes boring into him.

‘Yoink.’ Dawson said, snatching the rock up and stuffing it into a sack.

He about faced and ran back the way he had come, dodging Sunnies and branches before finding Jackson dancing around a huge flaming pile of branches, chanting something.

‘BURN, BRANCHES, BURN. IT’S A HELLFIRE INFERNO. BURN, BRANCHES, BURN. CLEANSE THIS UNHOLY PLACE SO THAT IT CAN BECOME FIT TO BE A SHRINE TO MY AWESOMENESS!’

‘Hey, Hellfire.’ Dawson said, waving the rock in the air. ‘I have the power. We should get out of here.’

‘AH, TIM-TIM.’ Jackson said as he ran after Dawson. ‘I SEE YOU ACCOMPLISHED THE MISSION BY YOURSELF. WELL DONE. WE SHALL MAKE YOU INTO A DEMIGOD BEFORE LONG.’

‘Great.’ Dawson said. ‘Just, don’t shout into my ear like that. Christ.’

Branches and any remaining Solar Empire soldiers that hadn’t been seeded by the branches gave chase, following the Spartans back outside where a blizzard had started, snow cutting visibility to barely a dozen metres while wind shook everything.

‘AIM FOR THE TREBUCHETS!’ Jackson yelled. ‘FOR I, HELLFIRE, HAVE A PLAN, TIM-TIM!’

‘Whatever you say, boss.’

They ran for one of the already primed wooden artillery pieces, shooting the attendant dead, then clung to the rock.

‘HI-YO HELLFIRE, AWAY!’ Jackson yelled as he cut the restraining rope and released the weapon’s massive counterweight, propelling himself and Dawson high into the air.

Somewhere in the Frozen North

Dawson and Jackson continued to yell as they came in for a hard landing, bouncing off the snow and ice several times before coming to a halt in a thick snow bank.

‘I, HELLFIRE, WISH TO RIDE THAT AGAIN!’ Jackson proclaimed loudly when he popped up out of the snow. ‘IT WAS ONE AMAZING RIDE!’

‘We fell hundreds of feet.’ Dawson muttered, searching through his pack for the rock Luna had ordered them to retrieve. With a sigh of relief, he saw it was still there. ‘Okay, Hellfire. Tim-Tim needs you to listen closely to him.’

‘YES, MY DEMIGOD IN TRAINING?’

‘Thank you for your cooperation.’

Dawson had found, during Jackson’s first transformation in Hellfire, that a specific phrase would snap him out of it. He had stumbled across it by accident but it had stuck in his memory ever since.

As if a switch had been thrown, Jackson’s voice returned to its normal volume.

‘No officer, problem.’ he said, beginning to sway a little. ‘I’m help to happy.’

He fell backwards, unconscious.

A side effect of being Hellfire was that it drained the Spartan and whenever he regained his usually wits, it made him spout nonsense and pass out, no matter how brief his tenure as the pyromaniac god.

Dawson let out another sigh of relief as slumped onto his back, looking up at the clouds overhead as they released tonnes of snow down on him and the sleeping Jackson.