The Lone Wolves

Chapters

The Fallen
Tribulation
Justice
Allegience
Soul of the Renegade
Return of the Night
Once More Unto the Breach
Broken Arrow

The Fallen

"How is the patient?"

It was the third time this week that Twilight Sparkle had checked on the patient. Honestly, she needn't keep bothering Nurse Hearts about him all the time. If there was any sign of change, which there wasn't, she would be the first to know. However, the nurse understood the reason for Twilight's concern. Everypony felt the same way about the patient. Twilight, however, felt it in a much more personal way. To her, this creature that saved all of their lives was, in a way, her new mentor.

The nurse gestured to the tall machine next to the patient's bed. It read that all his vitals were unchanged. His heartbeat remained slow and constant. Nothing to fear, but nothing to hope for.

"Same as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that."

The nurse sighed one long, depressive sigh. She looked down at the poor soul. He was attached to various wires and tubes that kept him breathing. Around his bed was a multitude of beautiful, fragrant flowers, gifts from the countless lives he saved.

Twilight sniffed a little bit to hold back her tears. Ever since the battle against the aliens ended, she hadn't been the same Twilight Sparkle everypony knew and loved. She was much more reclusive, reluctant to leave her library for any reason besides her daily visits to the hospital. Her mane was constantly disheveled, and her complexion was always that of sadness. Of course, her friends loyally stood by her every day. If it weren't for their kindness, generosity, and a certain pony's joyous parties, Twilight would have lost it a long time ago.

"When do you think he's going to wake up?"

Twilight asked this question every time she visited. Nurse Hearts' answer was always the same.

"It's impossible to say. He's in a coma, Ms. Sparkle, he has been for the past three weeks. He may wake up tomorrow, in a year, or never. Nopony knows for certain."

The nurse already knew what Twilight's next question was before she said it.

"And no, we can't forcefully wake him. That will cause irreversible damage on his neurological systems."

Twilight gently placed her hoof on the creature, hoping by this act of kindness the soldier would spring back to life. He did not. All she felt was the cold hardness of his metal armor, the shell of his former being.

The nurse looked directly at Twilight's eyes. They glistened with tears. The nurse tried to hold her tongue, but her words came out before she could stop them.

"Why do you constantly beat yourself up over this? It's not healthy, Ms. Sparkle." The nurse placed a hoof over her mouth to stop herself.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." Twilight waved the comment away with her hoof reassuringly at the embarrassed nurse. She cleared her throat, then paused as she waited for the right thing to say. Her voice was cold and wavering when she finally spoke.

"That's alright, Nurse Hearts. Its just...he's like family to me now. Princess Celestia saved him, gave up her life for his. I don't want her sacrifice to be in vain."

The nurse produced a sad smile sympathetically. The entire kingdom had been crushed by the lost of Princess Celestia, especially her sister. Princess Luna was forced to hold the same responsibilities her sister had while she was banished to the moon.

"I wouldn't be too quick to say that she's gone, Ms. Sparkle. Don't give up hope just yet."

Twilight nodded slowly and returned the same sad smile "Maybe. If only."

Twilight gestured to the sleeping human. He seemed content, as if he had finally found peace.

"If he just woke up, we would be safe from any future alien invaders. You've heard what ponies have been saying. If the aliens come back, he could be our only hope. "

A single tear from Twilight's eyes fell onto the soldier's gray armor. It slid down his side and dropped to the floor with a little splash. After this, no words were spoken for a long time. Only the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor dispelled the silence. Both the nurse and Twilight simply looked at the human, their thoughts dancing to memories of those fateful days when he saved them.

Some time later, Twilight broke the silence with the sound of her magic. She levitated a single pristine white orchid out of her saddle pack and placed it gently on the table next to Noble Six. After this, she cleared her throat and spoke to nurse.

"I'll be going now, Ms. Hearts. Thank you for everything. Please don't give up on him."
"I won't, Ms. Sparkle. I promise. And if you ever need anything, you know where to drop by."

Twilight smiled, turned, and trotted slowly towards the door, taking one last look at the fallen warrior. Sighing greatly to herself, she pushed open the heavy hospital door, and left the soldier behind her for another day.

A few minutes later, Twilight exited the grand hospital. The bright sunlight wrapped her in a pleasant warmth. A chilly breeze wafted through the countryside. Around her were the standard sights you'd see in Ponyville, besides for the three hundred or so Royal Guards dotting the town. Canterlot, the main headquarters of the Royal Guard, was under reconstruction after being decimated in the alien attack. Most of the guard was stationed at Ponyville to protect Princess Twilight and Noble Six in the case that the outsiders should return.

On the center pavilion outside the hospital, Shining Armor stood with a large group of other guards discussing things Twilight couldn't quite hear. Their armor and weapons glistened brightly in the mid morning sun. All of them, especially Shining Armor, seemed very anxious, even alarmed. Twilight slowly crept towards, comically darting in and out of bushes as she approached the gaggle. Once very close, she removed a bush from the pavilion and used it to disguise herself...as a bush. To Captain Armor and his troops, it looked like a large bush with eyes was creeping up on them. They were all too busy to take any formal notice of the stealthy bush.

Once inside listening distance, Twilight heard what was making the troops so anxious.

"You're absolutely sure, lieutenant?" Shining Armor asked, his voice near trembling. The lieutenant nodded his head once and spoke warily.

"100 percent, Captain. The planetary alarms are going off like crazy. Something, or should I say somethings, have broken into our atmosphere."

Shining stroked his chin in nervousness. "The alien ships' trajectory?"

The lieutenant tapped his magical horn once with his hoof. "If my magic serves me right, directly towards us."

Shining Armor's anxiousness disappeared from his face as his resolve hardened. Twilight's internal alarms went off in her head. Shining could be dangerous and rash when he grew overly transfixed on a plan.

"Then assemble all our unicorns, quickly, Don't panic the civilians, this could be a false alarm."

Shining Armor looked at the lieutenant with an icy stare. The lieutenant remembered the time he called for a code red when he thought his magic detected huge ships. They weren't. The poor birds never had a chance.

"Not this time sir. I almost guarantee it." The lieutenant mentally slapped himself when he realized that those were his exact words the last false alarm. The other guards snickered to themselves. Shining slammed his hoof on the ground.

"Focus! This could be for real. Go, be back here in two minutes."

The troops composed themselves and saluted.

"Sir yes sir!" They fanned out in search of all the unicorn guards they could find. Twilight replayed the events in her mind. She wondered what could be entering the atmosphere, if anything. Was it those terrible aliens? Or was it something else?

Twilight snapped out of her thoughts when Shining addressed her directly.

"This bush seems mighty suspicious..." He said in a playful tone, He levitated the bush away from Twilight to reveal a jokingly stunned Twilight. On her face was an expression Shining hadn't seen in a long time. A smile.

"You caught me. Do I get arrested now or something?"

Shining looked at his sister somberly. He remembered the days when they were happy. Those old days when their troubles were few and far between. They weren't that long ago. But they were gone.

"Haven't seen that expression on you in a long time, Twilight. You should wear it more often."

"I should. But times haven't been good lately. You know that, perhaps more than anyone.

Shining nodded in agreement. He spoke to his sister in a more serious tone. "Don't worry about this situation. It's probably a false alarm again, for the second trillionth time."

From behind them, a deep, masculine voice addressed Shining Armor.

"Sir, all enlisted unicorns present and accounted for." Shining and Twilight turned to face the lieutenant. Twilight's eyes opened wide when she saw the huge group of unicorn guards assembled in perfect formation. In the short amount of time since Shining's command, the lieutenant assembled 200 troops, who now stood with their hooves held high in salute and their military expressions set in stone. Twilight often forgot the vast amounts of discipline and perfection the Royal Guard performed on a daily basis. Shining cleared his throat and addressed the formation in his loud, military voice.

"As most of you have already guessed, this is probably a false alarm. Nonetheless, remain on high alert until I give the clear. Am I understood?"

"Sir yes si-"
"What are those!"

Twilight's outburst cut the formation from every finishing it's statement. All of them looked surprised at Twilight. Her expression was clearly stunned terror. Every pony eye followed Twilight's outstretched hoof to the objects she was pointing at in the sky. Every single jaw dropped open as they witnessed the spectacle before them. Descending from out of the clouds were not one, not three, but five gigantic alien vessels. They flew at unbelievable speeds towards Ponyville. The air around them trembled with the vibrations the ships' engines created. To Shining Armor, the aliens' intentions were clear. In a nearly panicked tone, Shining called out to his troops.

"Form up, fire offensive beams on my command!" The entire formation turned swiftly to face the oncoming ships. Every one of the guards fired up their magical horns with intense power, prepared to release destructive magic on the alien invaders.

Twilight sensed something inside her. A niggling feeling in her gut. Something about this wasn't right. Then she realized what was wrong. The ships in the sky didn't look at all like the alien vessel that besieged the planet. Twilight had figured for a long time that Noble Six's species might find him eventually. What if those ships were his rescue?

Twilight sprinted in front of the formation. She called out the troops as loud as she could.

"Wait! Take a good look at those ships. Do they look anything like the ship that attacked us?"

The soldiers considered the vessels more carefully. They saw the difference clearly.

A million thoughts coursed through Shining's brain all at once. Should he take the risk of annihilation and let the ships approach? Or should he order his troops to fire upon the vessels before they grew to close? His options were limited. He let his emotions get the better of his mind.

"Fire now! Don't let them get close!" The troops focused their magic at the ships. Twilight couldn't let them do this without reason. Not when this could be the very salvation she had been asking for.

"As your princess, I order you to hold your fire!" Twilight had played the power card. The troops held their fire. They were faced with a decision. They could either disobey their princess and fire, facing the repercussions in the future, or they could disobey their commander and hold their fire, facing the repercussions in the future. Soldiers don't like lose-lose scenarios.

"Fire!"
Don't fire!"
"Do it now!"
"Don't do it!"

Soldiers are not used to hearing contradicting commands. Usually, the only commands were, "Fire!" and "Charge!". This was obviously not the case.

Shining knew there was only one way he could get his troops to make up their minds. In a reckless action to get control over his men, and to get them to do as he commanded, he shot the first magic bolt at the fleet of cruisers. The soldiers saw this as a viable reason to do the same. In half a second, every one of the 200 troops fired their magic at the cluster of ships in a continuing stream. Twilight ducked for cover to avoid getting blasted to pieces. The magical streams of energy had disastrous effects on the unshielded, unprepared UNSC warships. Fires erupted from horrendous cracks made in the ships' hulls. In less than a minute, every ship had been terribly damaged.

"There goes your precious fleet, alien scum! What are you gonna to do about it?!" Shining Armor screamed maniacally at the alien ships. Twilight cringed. If there was something a sane pony never, ever did, it was to tempt fate.

One the largest of the ships, a large oblong cylinder of metal turned to face the pony defenders. Shining Armor's victorious expression vanished instantly. With an ear splitting crack, the MAC cannon launched 50 tons of accelerated particles towards Ponyville.

Twilight knew there was only one way to save the residents of the unsuspecting town. Summoning every single ounce of her magical power, she formed a huge, flaming purple ring around as much of town that she could manage. Using the last of her magic, she completed the spell. Every single pony inside the flaming purple ring teleported safely away from the town just as the MAC round slammed into the ground like a meteorite.

"Casualty report!" Captain Marcus called out to his lieutenant. The bridge, along the rest of his vessel, was in shambles. Sparks flew from dashboards in frantic flurries. Electrical wires hung down from the ceiling like flaming vines from a broken tree. Most of his men were scrambled along the floor, knocked around like potatoes as the ship lurched with every explosion.

"Weapon systems are down sir, so are long range communications! Life support operating at 20 percent capacity!"

Marcus growled to himself. How could he let this happen? He should have seen the ambush coming. A Covenant presence doesn't just disappear from a planet.

"Get me patched in with the Hammer." Marcus called out to his lieutenant. After some button pressing, the captain of the Hammer appeared on the main monitor. The situation of his bridge was the same, if not worse, than the Valkyrie's.

"That was a pleasant surprise," The young captain said sarcastically.

"What just hit us?" Marcus asked the captain, coughing on the smoke that wafted through the bridge.

"No clue, captain. From the video feed, it looks like hundreds of random rainbow beams just slammed into us from a nearby village. If it weren't for the MAC round, we'd be done for."

Marcus nodded. "Any other news?"

"Yes actually, thanks for asking. We found your little heroic Spartan, alive, in the settlement. He's on route to your ship by Pelican now,"

Marcus fell slowly back into his captains chair. They found him. After years of searching, he was finally here.

"Anyway, I have my own troubles to look into. See ya, pops."

"Don't call me that!" Marcus replied to his son, thoroughly annoyed. The monitor screen died, and Marcus was left with his own thoughts. Noble Six was alive, and he just rescued him from Covenant clutches.

"Sir, the Spartan is aboard." The ship's AI said to the captain.

"Bring him in."

Tribulation

We're all born with the will to fight. That inherent instinct is what keeps us alive in the greatest tribulation. It's when that instinct turns to greed that it becomes a issue. For greed is the door to destruction.

-Unknown

Captain Marcus clamped his clammy hands together in nervous excitement. He would have preferred a less chaotic situation to welcome the legendary soldier. Then again, Spartans were notorious for bringing about trouble wherever they went. Perhaps it was simply the result of some extraneous aura dictating the luck surrounding the super soldiers. Or it was because they were billion-dollar killing machines responsible for the downfall of the Covenant. One of those two options sufficed.

Although the Valkyrie had stabilized following the unexpected encounter with the hostile population, it was certainly not in battle ready condition. Over 50 percent of the outer hull sustained critical damage from the high energy beams, of which the resident physicists aboard the fleet were still struggling to comprehend. They were quite unlike any plasma charges standard among Covenant troops, and certainly didn't resemble any focused-light based weaponry from Forerunner tech. All anyone knew was that they did incredible damage over an equally impressive distance, two important factors that produced devastating results.

Along with the hull, many of the internal components of the Valkyrie were in critical condition, including life support and weapons systems. The FTL, or Faster-Than-Light Drive, was also rendered unusable. If it had sustained any more energy charges it may have melted down, resulting in the Valkyrie's swift disappearance from reality.

The condition of the main control room resembled that of the rest of the vessel. Marine engineers worked frantically to repair broken control panels and replace missing floor plates. The observation area of the bridge, a semi-circular dome made out of atomically reinforced glass, was not left unscathed. A large crack on the front window plate contributed to Captain Marcus's nervousness, though his engineers assured him that it would remain intact. Probably.

Captain Marcus jumped up from his high tech command chair when he heard the hissing sound of the blast door opening into the bridge slide open. A faint trail of white smoke erupted from the now open door as pressure equalized. As it cleared, Marcus saw two Marines in full battle dress uniform armed with Assault Rifles nervously enter the room on either side of one of the most imposing figures the captain had ever seen. The hull of the ship shook slightly as the Spartan moved swiftly into the bridge. He did not move as the captain expected, lumbering in exhaustion after drifting in space and facing the Covenant. Rather, he moved with purpose, as if there was something important to be attended to. He moved like a specter, more of a blur of black, battle worn armor than a person. Marcus hardly had the courage to look into his eyes. As he did, he was shocked by what he saw. Rage. Not some kind of simple temper tantrum, but the calm rage of a disciplined warrior. Fear crept into the captain's heart as the Spartan approached ever swifter. His escort was hardly able to keep pace with the determined Spartan.

"Spartan B312, welcome aboard! The United Nations Space Command, along with myself, are delighted to see you alive. We may debrief in the operations room, if you wish."

Captain Marcus halted his attempt at a pleasant welcome as the Spartan came to a halt inches away from him. The warrior stood at least a foot and a half taller than the stumpy captain. All of the chatter in the bridge ceased as the Spartan continued to simply stand there, saying nothing. He simply stared into the captains eyes, unblinking, his expression that same calm rage. Sweat beaded along Marcus's forehead as fear continued to grow inside him.

"Or, you could take some time to rest and recover, if you would like..."

The captain's voice trailed off, fear taking his vocal cords away from him. Every eye in the bridge watched the encounter nervously as the Spartan continued to stare in silence. A few agonizingly long seconds later, the Spartan spoke, his voice nothing less than a lethal specter,

"Are you aware, sir, of what you have done?"

The Spartan did not break his gaze into the the captain's eyes as he made this seemingly peculiar, and most certainly chilling, statement. Marcus stammered, unsure of what he meant,

"W-what do you mean? If I am correct, we have just rescued you."

The captain finished his statement with an indignant note. He did not understand why the UNSC asset was treating him with such a condescending and disrespectful tone.

The enraged Spartan leaned over him, forcing the captain to bend slightly backwards to maintain eye contact.

"Sir, are you aware that you have broken multiple UNSC protocols, including the rules of engagement, the use of excessive force, and the unnecessary slaughter of civilians?"

Captain Marcus was taken aback, as were the rest of the UNSC personnel in the bridge. The rules of engagement? Protocol? In the captain's mind, the Spartan was acting entirely out of conduct. Marcus straightened himself in a dignified manner and said snobbishly,

"Spartan, I have followed all UNSC protocols regarding our current situation. We were engaged by a hostile force, so I authorized an in atmospheric MAC round on the attackers. I saved your life, Spartan. Stand down, or I will follow protocol and detain you forcibly."

The Marine escort nervously tightened their grip on their Assault Rifles. The other personnel began to back away slowly.
Then, so swiftly that the captain had no time to react, the Spartan snatched his gray-clothed collar and pulled the sad officer up to his eye level. The Marine escort team involuntarily brought their Assault Rifles to the Spartan's head.

For a few moments, there was still silence. Fear froze the hearts of everyone in the room. Everyone, but the Spartan.

"Let...me go Spartan! That's an order!"

The captain struggled to say, his throat choked by the force of the Spartan's grip on his shirt. Both Marine escorts placed the muzzle of their rifles on the sides of the Spartan's head.

"Stand down, Spartan!" One of the escorts bellowed, driven by fear and panic. Enlisted Marines typically try not to impose their will on Spartans. There's no telling how they might respond.

The Spartan's eyes became slits, never breaking eye contact with the fearful captain. Then, after a few more breathless moments, the Spartan released his iron grip.

Immediately, the captain cowardly stammered backwards, and in a fearful daze commanded that the asset be restrained. The Spartan stood deathly still as an exceedingly nervous Marine placed titanium cuffs around his wrists. They were more superficial than restraining.

"I ought to court martial you right here Spartan, for breaking conduct and threatening a superior officer!"

The captain said, filled with both fear and indignant anger.

The Spartan replied with a chilling tone,

"I should court martial you, sir, for the slaughter of a defenseless population. The use of a MAC cannon in this situation was excessive force. You knew that it had the potential to kill innocents."

The captain literally scoffed, and replied,

"Defenseless population? Spartan, we nearly lost all our frigates in that last encounter. I believe my deployment of a MAC cannon to be entirely justified. You are a UNSC and ONI asset, your interests are ours. Take him to the holding cell."

The Marine escort anxiously pulled on either of the Spartan's arms. It was a futile gesture. The Spartan remained fixed in place.

"Interests, sir? Our primary interest is to protect the innocent, defend the defenseless. You have done the opposite. You are following your own interests, sir.

The captain's faced curled in disgust and rage as he stormed indignantly towards the Spartan. He halted directly in front of him, and whispered into his ear in a slimy tone,

"I will terminate your life where you stand if need be. This is my frigate, this is my fleet, and this planet...this planet belongs to the UNSC, ONI, and myself. Am I clear?"

The Spartan made no reply. Instead, he turned, and walked towards the open blast door, his moves crisp and determined, but slow enough for the Marine escort to follow closely. The Marines kept their rifles trained on the Spartan as he moved, and began to escort him to the holding bay. Just as he passed under the heavy blast door, the Spartan turned, and faced the red-faced captain.

"I am a Noble. My protocol complies with what Noble Team stands for."

With that chilling statement, Noble Six turned, and allowed the terrified Marines to escort him down a long corridor to the holding bay.

Justice

Twilight was awoken from her exhausted slumber by the sound of panicked voices. She was lying on something soft, like feathers, but earthy, like soil. The warm sunlight shone down on her from all directions. For a few dazed moments, Twilight believed that she was in a dream, or had just woken up from a dream. Her mind was wrapped in a dense fog. Something had happened, but she couldn't quite identify the source of the terrible feeling in her gut.

Through the cloud of desperate voices surrounding her frame, she could her her name. Faint, panicked, growing louder and louder as the moments passed. Echoes urging her out of the ethereal dream state she was trapped in. She began to sense the world around her more thoroughly. She could begin to make out distressed words and rushed sentences, though none of them made much sense in her dulled mind. Aliens? Destruction? No, she thought, all of that was already over. They defeated those terrible alien invaders over a month ago.

Reassured by her mind, Twilight began to drift back into her slumber. Then, she began hearing the voices of ponies she recognized. She heard Applejack's southern drawl, Rarity's sophisticated accent, Fluttershy's quiet tones, all calling her name from beyond her understanding. Her consciousness bubbled and frothed as memories flowed in a slow trickle.

She recalled a monster rising from blue fire. She felt the debilitating fear of death as the monster threatened the lives of her friends, her mentor, her kingdom, herself. She felt the pain of searing loss as the monster destroyed the lives of innocents. Anger boiled her blood.

Then, she felt the shock of surprise as the monster saved her. She watched in confusion as the very thing that she had been trying to destroy rescued them from an even more terrible fate. She felt the pang of guilt as she witnessed what she assumed to be a creature of death become a harbinger of life.

She was overwhelmed by the emotion of defeat as the monster that saved the lives of all was taken captive by the true enemy. She felt the cowardice of leaving a hero behind to a fate unimaginable. She understood why the protagonists of the thousands of books she had read in her past didn't simply stand and fight against hopeless odds, why they often fled as cowards. Yet, the hero of that moment in reality defied the fear inside him. While she ran, another creature that she assumed to be a emotionless monster fought for her when all hope was lost.

Another flash. She saw the hero, on the brink of destruction. He stared into the face of pure wickedness, perversion, and death, unblinking. He was a warrior, crafted in a time of desperate peril, refined in the fire of battle, and made into the sword that pierced the evil bodies and souls of the race so bent on the destruction of the universe. She felt the indignant rage of the Covenant as they mocked his stand against what they believed to be their greatest journey.

She felt the shock and surprise of every soul in that wretched vessel as the warrior's previous enemies rescued him from his fate. She could perceive his wonder as the very creatures he destroyed saved him from the same outcome. She could feel his heavy guilt masked as determination. The warrior, she knew, felt he had a debt to repay.

She sensed the horror of the massacre around them. Ambush after ambush resulted in death after death of close friends. Beings whom Twilight believed would remain by her through thick and thin ceased to be. Their loyalty, generosity, kindness, honesty, laughter, and magic...all silenced forever. Where was the magic of friendship during this slaughter? Had it simply abandoned them to their own demise? How could anything stand idly by while innocent souls perished far before their time?

She felt her own terror as she knew her time had come. What had she done to deserve this fate? What had any of the wonderful beings in this world done to garner this swift reclamation? Had they not saved their world time and time again from every wicked foe attempting to destroy it? Had they not spread joy into the hearts of many? Had they not built lasting friendships, brought the whole planet closer, maintained peace?

Then she felt the overwhelming wave of relief as she and her closest friends narrowly avoided their fate. Their survival was not their own doing.

Twilight thought she knew the definition of sacrifice. She had learned, perhaps, what the word meant on the surface, on the tip of the iceberg of courage. She believed that she herself had sacrificed much in the past. But no action she had ever performed, no enemy ever defeated, no friendship ever preserved...nothing matched what sacrifice truly meant. The only beings that Twilight ever saw demonstrate true sacrifice through actions were her mentor, and her once-monster.

She felt the crippling sadness of abandonment as her mentor sacrificed herself to save another. She felt deep shame in not doing the same. For in that moment, her mentor proved that she had courage.

She saw her mentor, standing in blinding fire, surrounded by wreckage and destruction. Her once pristine white coat was charred by the purple flames. Her once flowing, regal mane burned crisp as the evil vessel tore itself apart. She saw her catch sight of the warrior. His armor was punched and pierced in multiple places. His face was battered and bleeding. He was on his knees in humble subjection to his fate. Yet, on his face was an emotion neither of them expected. Joy.

She was filled again with guilt and sorrow. Why did this outsider fight for them? Why did he risk his life for beings whom had so horribly treated him time and time again?

Twilight watched as her mentor began to rush to the warrior's aid, only to be crushed by a cylindrical piece of wreckage the size of a large cart. Pinned to the ground, her bones crushed, her beloved mentor, leader, and warrior used all of the magic she had left to create a shining golden aura around the dying human. In a beautiful golden flash of light, the warrior was rescued from his fate.

Time slowed as the alien vessel finished its course. Pieces of purple and black metal fell away into the abyss, explosions erupted in showers of blue and white flames.

Twilight watched as her mentor closed her eyes in acceptance of her fate. She watched as she recounted all of her actions over her long life. Her birth, becoming a princess, establishing her kingdom, banishing her sister, becoming a mentor, being the friend that all could count on. Twilight could feel her mentor's pain and sadness overrun by the same joy experienced by Noble Six, by all heroes. At the end of her life, she was able to answer that simple, infinitely powerful question that drives us to fight for our brothers and sisters every sunless day.

"Did I help?"

Twilight watched as Princess Celestia's pained face grew peaceful. A somber smile. Then, darkness.

In the ethereal darkness, in the lonesome stillness, Twilight's remorse and sadness grew into dignified rage. What had Celestia done to deserve this? What had Noble Six done to bring this fate?

"Why! Why did this happen?" Twilight screamed into the darkness.

"What kind of justice is this? Where is the friendship?"

There was no answer from the darkness.

"Very well. If the magic of friendship won't bring justice, then I will. The lives of my friends will be repaid. The sacrifice Celestia made will not be in vain. I will not only bring the world back to what it was, but I'll make it better!"

Glistening tears streamed down from Twilight's cheeks as her words became echoes in the nothingness.

For a long moment in time, there was no light, no senses. Then, in the distance, Twilight saw a faint white speck. As time passed, it grew closer and closer, until most of her vision was overcome by pure, blindingly white light. Twilight lifted her hoof to her tearful eyes as the light became more and more stunning. Then, the light dissipated slowly away.

From where the light faded, a shimmering voice, like shining silver, spoke,

"I am proud to call you my student and my friend. Never stop being who you are."

Twilight brought her hoof away from her eyes. In front of her, floating in the black stillness, was her beloved mentor.

"Celestia..." Twilight said, her tears of sadness replaced by tears of joy.

Celestia glowed with a pure aura that surrounded her regal frame. Her white coat glistened brightly against the nothingness. Her flowing mane danced energetically. Her dazzling eyes were filled with both sadness and joy. She moved elegantly a foot away from where Twilight stood awestruck. She placed a loving, motherly hoof on her shoulder.

"I have been here for you since you were young. I've watched as you have grown into the young mare you are today. With little influence from myself, you have taken the magic of friendship across all of Equestria. You have shown the ponies of this kingdom what it truly means to be a friend. I couldn't be more proud of you."

"No matter how bleak the situation, no matter how hopeless the world around you seemed, you and your friends have come through in the end. You have faced every evil thing the universe could throw at you and come out on top every single time. I know that you can bring justice to this land again."

Celestia looked deep into her student's eyes. They were determined but fearful.

"There are times when the magic of friendship seems to vanish. I know that all too well. But one thing I know for certain is that fire is never truly extinguished. It's in you, Twilight. It's in your friends, it's in every being across every dimension of the universe. All we have to do is let it out."

"Time to wake up, Twilight."

Twilight's senses flooded back into her in a rush of feeling. She could feel the earthy soil beneath her hooves, she could sense the warm sunshine all around her, she could hear the panicked voices of her friends all around her frame. Her conscious became sharp, she remembered everything that had transpired in the past. Finally, she could open her eyes.

Yellow sunlight blinded her for a moment. As her eyes adjusted, the world slowly grew into focus. She found herself on the top of a green hillside dotted by red roses and covered in short, crisp grass. The cloudless sky above was a deep blue. Small sparrows flew overhead, chirping merrily as they went. For a moment, Twilight again wondered whether or not she was trapped in a dream.

Then she saw the expressions on the ponies' faces surrounding her. On every mare and stallion was a look of fear and panic that seemed all too familiar. That expression was most apparent on the closest to her, the Elements of Harmony.

As Twilight clumsily began to rise to her hooves, Applejack quickly grabbed hold of her, saying in a concerned southern drawl,

"Thank heavens you're awake, Twilight. We were starting to wonder if you were all right."

Twilight shook the rest of the fogginess away from her mind as a cool breeze wafted from the east. She set her face in a determined expression, saying nothing for a few moments. Her closest friends watched anxiously, pondering whether or not Twilight was truly fine. Then, while looking at nopony in particular, Twilight spoke, rather monotonously,

"Do you believe in justice?"

Her friends looked at each other with confused expressions. For a few seconds, none of them knew what to say in response. The rest of the crowd of panicked ponies stopped what they were doing to witness the odd situation. After a few moments, Rarity precariously responded,

"Of course we do, Twilight...what do you mean?"

Just then, raised voices could be heard from down the hill. Without hesitation, Twilight trotted swiftly in that direction. Still very confused, her friends followed closely, wondering both about Twilight and this recent development.

As Twilight ran down the steep, lush hillside, she saw the destruction her brother's err in judgement had brought. In the distance, perhaps a mile or two, was the crumbling ruin of Ponyville. The once proud, colorful buildings had been transformed into charred, jagged messes of stone and burning wood. Some of the outer structures had survived the initial blast, as Twilight could see. For example, Fluttershy's tree house continued to stand proudly, escaping destruction by only a few dozen feet.

Feeling again crept into her heart. The feeling of rage.

She looked up at the blue sky. The five damaged UNSC warships continued to hover above the ruins, seemingly examining what was left of the town.

As she ran, Twilight grew nearer to the ponies who had been causing the commotion. The two hundred or so Royal Guards appeared to be debating with Shining Armor, who was standing on a large brown stump in the middle of a field.

One individual unicorn, a more elderly but entirely capable sergeant in shimmering bronze armor, angrily hurled an accusation at him,

"Look at what you caused, Captain Armor! The town is completely gone!"

Many of the other Royal Guards grunted in agreement. Shining Armor stammered, replying defensively,

"What I caused? This wasn't my fault, it was those wicked warships in the sky!"

He angrily gestured towards the group of frigates with an accusatory hoof. Those Guards who agreed with this statement turned to argue with those who held a different opinion. Swiftly, the voices rose into a cacophony of jumbled sentiments and indicting statements. Arguments turned to hoof-on-hoof combat as the entire situation broke down. Unnoticed, Twilight trotted to the front of the group and pulled herself onto the stump Captain Armor had previously been standing on. She looked over the rebellious group with that same determined expression set in stone. With a chilling voice, she called over the noise of the fighting,

"Enough!"

The mock battle of the Royal Guard halted even more comically than it started. Every single pony warrior simply froze exactly in place from where they had been fighting, as if time had been entirely halted. Ponies in the middle of a strike continued to hold that exact position indefinitely while their eyes fixed on the imposing, and somewhat terrifying mare on the stump. The rest of the panicked and anxious ponies on the hillside began to trot down to where the action was taking place.

For a few awkward moments, nopony dared to say a word. Twilight continued to stare both at and away from the group, her thoughts seemingly distant from her body. Then, with icy tones that chilled the bones of the frozen soldiers, she spoke,

"Take a good look at yourselves. We have just survived not one, but two major catastrophes, and here you all are fighting like children! We are ponies of Equestria, are these the standards we hold ourselves to?"

Every voice fell completely silent. The Guard continued to remain fixed where they stood.

"You can't simply blame one pony for the calamities we have found ourselves in, because we are all to blame. We've all made mistakes over the past month, myself included. None of that matters now, what's done is done. We must look to the future if we are to survive as Equestrians."

Twilight gestured to the fleet of warships with a determined expression,

"You see those...whatever they are...I'm not sure if they're on our side, nopony is. All I know is that Noble Six, the warrior who saved all of our lives, is on board. Whether they're friendly and simply retaliated to a mistake, or evil and have come to destroy us, all our hopes rest on Noble Six, and he's trapped in there! It's up to us to give him the justice he deserves. I'm not asking you to come with me, but I for one am going to save him."

The crowd of four hundred or so stunned ponies had no reply for a few agonizingly long moments. Then, Twilight felt somepony place a hoof on her shoulder. Twilight turned to see her friends standing right next to her, their faces etched with that same determined expression she had. With her hoof still reassuringly on her shoulder, Rainbow Dash said,

"We're absolutely still your friends, Twilight, and like it or not, we'll be coming with you to that warship."

Applejack straightened her stetson hat, and said with an excited tone,

"For sure! We'll follow you to any end."

The rest of her friends nodded in agreement. Twilight smiled with reassured joy. She had forgotten over the past month just how far her friends were willing to go for her.

They all looked up at the menacing warships hanging in the sky. It was a daunting task, to say the least. Twilight's face set again in a mix of fear and determination.

"Then to any end is where we will go."

Allegience

The monotonous tone of the electrical systems providing light and warmth to the small cell was the only sound audible in the entire room. The holding cell, only encompassing the area of a large kitchen, provided to leave the massive, one ton Spartan with little space to spare. The room, a miniature bulkhead composed of grayish-silver reinforced titanium alloys, was designed to withstand super heated Covenant anti-matter charges. A low grade energy shield generator constantly emitted an invisible wall that lined all sides of the bulkhead. The doors were created with hyper rigid carbon fiber elements, giving them near the same strength against sheer brute force as diamonds. There were no windows installed in the prison cell, as any compromise in the hull of the bulkhead would lead to severe detriments in the facility's total integrity. As substitution, four nano fiber, high resolution security cameras were implanted in unsuspecting areas of the prison cell. Additionally, a small compartment containing 3 liters of concentrated neurotoxin hidden in a reinforced section of the bulkhead had the capability of releasing its lethal contents into the interior of the bulkhead, abruptly ending the life of whatever antagonized creature lay inside.

All of these security features did little to ease the nerves of the two Marine escorts on either side of the reinforced doorway, their fists remaining clenched tight to their Assault Rifles. As with most mysterious things, Spartans created an aura of awe and fear, inspiring many urban legends within the Corps. One such story retold an encounter a rather gruff sergeant had with a Spartan only known by those superstitious Marines as Shadow-131. While engaged in large skirmish with Covenant forces on Onyx, a rather rude staff sergeant insulted the unknown Spartan's battle tactics quite directly. That night, while on patrol, an unsuspecting private located a disembodied foot atop a scraggly tree. When attempting to report this egregious finding to the staff sergeant, the Marines of that platoon were shocked to discover that the sergeant had gone completely missing. DNA testing was unable to determine the identity of the lonesome foot. When interviewed about the crime, Shadow-131 shrugged and handed the perplexed Marine what later were identified as the missing sergeant's dog tags. The Spartan claimed that he had found them while searching for the missing Marine, though Shadow-131 had been on a search-and-destroy operation well before the sergeant was declared missing. The UNSC denied any claims of the story to actually be true. However, there was always that slim, or not so slim, possibility that it was.

These thoughts and more sent chills down the spines of the heavily armed escort team as they stood at a shaky attention outside the bulkhead. In their minds, they reassured themselves that nothing, not even an enraged Hunter, could escape that prison. Yet, Spartans were certainly not to be trifled with, and the continued to prove time and time again that they always had something up their metallic sleeves.

Inside the three foot thick titanium alloy walls, the Spartan sat with his back against the cold metal frame, his legs hunched against his chest, his arms resting uncomfortably on his knees. He was as motionless as a statue, as silent as a shadow. In his giant hands hung two thin, malformed silver epaulettes, connected by a small chain. Inscribed in these relics were the words,

Spartan II
Jorge-052
NOBLE 5

"Distance is currently closing with the Covenant Super-Carrier. Seventy-six seconds to endpoint."

The droning hum of the bulkhead was replaced with the robotic, monotone voice of Auntie Dot, Noble Team's personal AI. Noble Six found himself aboard a Covenant Corvette, a small, sleek ship designed for reconnaissance and support. He was aboard the main holding bay of the warship, a room composed of purple and gray Covenant metal alloys. All around the odd frigate were the lifeless bodies of both Covenant and UNSC soldiers alike, the cost of taking the Corvette paid by those risking to sacrifice everything for the protection of Reach.

In the center of the large room lay a UNSC Pelican, moderately damaged from the firefight that had transpired just moment earlier. Attached to its cargo hold was the device all hopes for Reach were counting on. A makeshift bomb, crafted from the FTL drive of the Savanna, was Noble Team's last chance at destroying the Covenant Super-Career by ripping a hole in space-time, obliterating the only thing standing between humanity and its survival.

Jorge, a Spartan who resembled and acted like a tank, stood close to the damaged slip-space bomb in frustration. He slammed his Spartan's fist onto its control pad, sending a small shock wave throughout the ship.

"So, it's gonna be like that," Jorge voiced in an ominous tone as he paused from his work. Noble Six could understand that something had gone awry, yet again.

Turning to face Noble Six, Jorge explained in a frustrated tone,

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. This bird took some fire and her thruster gimbal is toast, which means the only way off this slag heap is gravity,"

"And the good news?" Noble Six hoped that his assumption on the structure of Jorge's news was correct.

"That was the good news." Jorge replied hastily, crushing whatever hopes Noble Six had left in his soul. He began to understand the gravity of the situation before them.

"At current velocity, fifty-three seconds to impact," Auntie Dot interjected, only succeeding in bringing the spirits of those two Noble's down even further.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Jorge responded, his voice flattening, his composure straitening, as he took off his helmet in an exacerbated manner. He looked into Six's helmet with raw determination.

"Bad news is, timer's fried. I'm going to have to fire it manually."

Six's heart dropped as he understood what the operation was going to cost. He hadn't even known Jorge-052 more than a day, but he had seen his courage, his tenacity, his raw ability. He didn't deserve this fate.

"That's a one way trip," Noble Six explained, attempting to talk the determined Spartan out of this decision, though he knew that nothing was going to change the course of Jorge's mind.

"We all make it sooner or later."

Jorge's response sent chills down Noble Six's spine. He had seen death before, he had seen sacrifice before, but he had never seen such a willingness to a cause, such determination to an idea. He himself had been a lone wolf for most of his career. Before, Noble Six had viewed the deaths of the Marines around him viewed as mostly a means to an end. Jorge held a completely different mindset, one of sacrifice, one of selflessness, devotion to a team.

"Better get going, Six, they're going to need you down there." Jorge wasn't even thinking of the fate that lay before him. He was thinking of his team, of the battle that lay beyond for them that he wouldn't be able to fight.

"Listen, Reach has been good to me. Now it's time to return the favor."

Jorge clasped Noble Six's left hand tightly. In the doomed Spartan's hands were his dog tags. One final symbol of his sacrifice.

"Don't deny me this," Noble Six honored the last wish of the heroic Spartan as he lifted Noble Six's one-ton body clean off the ground and began to carry his stunned frame towards the opening of the Corvette, never breaking eye contact with the Spartan.

"Tell 'em to make it count."

In a moment, Noble Six's world became a swirl of stars and space as he hurled down to the planet underneath him. As he fell, his emotions as a sea of despair, he saw the true size and strength of the Super-Career above him. Then, in a flash of purple and black light, a sphere, the shade of the void surrounding him and twice as deadly, engulfed the entire mid section of the Covenant cruiser. As swiftly as it materialized, it vanished, the rift in the space-time continuum collapsing in on itself.

As the universe around him transformed into the pitch night, Noble Six heard the deep, Australian tones of the long gone Spartan,

"War is sacrifice. I made mine. Make sure yours counts."

Darkness.

The sound of multiple high-tech gears turning brought Noble Six out of his dazed stupor. Swiftly, he placed the dog tags in a special compartment in his armor. Looking towards the source of the strange noise, he witnessed in surprise and confusion as the main magnetically sealed hatch on the carbon-fiber door began to spin, the multiple levels of protection sliding away with ease. Startled, he brought himself up to a standing position, his fists tightly clenched, his will ready to dominate anything that entered the room.

A loud buzzing sound filled Noble Six's ears as the heavy door flew open away from bulkhead. After a moment, the signaling sound died away, and in walked the very last person Noble Six wanted to see.

The stumpy captain's forehead was still heavily beaded with sweat as he cautiously crept into the prison. His composure was frail, his fear clearly visible through the numerous accolades adorning his standard officers' uniform. He wore an expression not of stubborn superiority, as the bewildered Noble Six had expected, but rather of humble abjection, and perhaps genuine sorrow.

Six's eyes fixed on the captain's in a lethal stare. He was ready to perform whatever action was necessary. The captain did not attempt to match the show of force, instead subjecting himself by looking away from the Spartan's deadly glare. After a few awkward moments, the captain managed to shakily speak,

"I know you may not be in the listening mood, Spartan, and I don't blame you for it. I blame myself."

Noble Six was taken slightly aback. He cautiously released some of the pressure in his clenched hands as the captain continued,

"I was there, you know. You and I may be the one of the only people alive who remember exactly what happened on Reach."

"Sir," Noble Six warily responded, understanding that this possible charade could have been cover for something more devious.

"I didn't think you would believe me. You have no reason to, which is fair enough. I'm just surprised that you aren't ripping into me after I threatened your life and all."

Frankly, so was Noble Six.

"To be blunt, I never thought I would see anyone from Noble Team again after what you guys sacrificed."

Captain Marcus slowly approached Noble Six, his steps slow and heavy, his eyes still downcast. Noble Six did not react as he might've under normal situations, allowing the man he assumed to be hostile approach to continue his statement.

"Listen, as the captain of this fleet, it's my duty to ensure the safety and survival of every soul aboard. When I nearly lost control of that safety, I responded without thinking. I apologize for that, Spartan, but our survival had to come before the lives of whatever I destroyed. We've all had to make sacrifices to keep humanity from going under, you know that more than anyone."

The captain swiftly turned towards the open doorway and ushered one of the Marine escorts in. The escort was as nervous, if not more so, than the fleet captain standing before him. As Six analyzed the Marine, his eyes opened wide as he caught sight of something he immediately assumed to be another vision.

The Marine saluted the captain anxiously, and the captain swiftly saluted back. After this formality, the captain gently took the device from the nervous Marine's arms, and turned back to Noble Six's incredulous frame.

"It took some digging in the armory, but I believe this belongs to you, Noble. It's not the same one, but I hope that it will suffice."

The captain held a MJOLNIR Mark V helmet in outstretched arms towards the stunned Noble Six. Its outer coating of gray paint shimmered in the artificial light of the bulkhead. Its titanium alloy frame dazzled, completely undamaged and unfazed. Its yellow tinted visor shone brightly, a singular smooth plate of reinforced glass. Noble Six slowly took the helmet from the nervous captain, touching its visor in stark disbelief.

"We're in quite a precarious situation, Spartan. I don't know what it was we were engaged by; I can't guarantee the safety of anyone on this ship, in this fleet. I do know that you are the man to fix this. I can't do this alone, and though I have no grounds to ask it of you, I need your allegiance if we're to survive this."

Six hadn't taken his eyes of his helmet as the captain spoke his words. Memories came flooding back to his mind; all of Reach came back to his frame like a bullet tearing through his heart. Noble Team sacrificed everything: their homes, their families, their friends, their very lives, to keep humanity from utter destruction. If there was one thing that he learned from his short tenure at their sides, it was that no matter the cost, no matter the situation, no matter what anyone had done in the past, the higher cause of keeping those homes, families, friends, and lives going remained the superior cause.

"Yes, sir."

The captain smiled a most genuine smile.

"Excellent, Spartan. I suppose we should start..."

Captain Marcus's hopeful statement was cut off by a chirping sound caused by his tactical pad attached to his wrist. It flashed a desperate crimson, alerting Noble Six to some kind of danger. The captain's smile turned into a serious expression as he pushed a button, projecting a high definition, three dimensional image into the open air around them.

The hologram displayed a frantic Enlisted Marine standing with his back towards the bridge of a standard UNSC vessel. In the background, other Marines fought desperately against an unknown force, unloading clip after clip of various weapons towards the left side of the scene. Purple and blue bursts of light erupted in response, freezing whatever unfortunate Marine managed to get hit, leaving them seemingly unfazed other than immobility. A cacophony of shouts and echoes contributed to the utter confusion surrounding the desperate situation as more and more Marines became frozen in place by the unknown purple and blue auras surrounding them.

"Captain, the Hammer's under attack by an unidentified alien force! We need reinforcements, I repeat, we need..."

The Marine was never able to finish his frantic statement as he suddenly found himself wrapped head to toe in what appeared to be a yellow jump rope with purple ends launched dramatically from a pink canon in the background. The startled and confused Marine fell immediately out of the holographic picture as he scrambled to untie the unexpected knot of fabric surrounding his frame.

Almost instantly, a pink equine-esque being with an extremely odd mane materialized in the holographic image. With an oddly energetic smile, accounting for the situation at hand, it spoke in rapid and excited tones into the holographic projector,

"Ooooh, what's this thing do? Wait, is that Noble Six! And who's that other human? Hi, Other Human!"

Both Noble Six's and Marcus's jaws dropped at the insane sight before them, though Six's surprise was hidden by the visor of his helmet.

"Don't worry, Noble Guy, we've got the situation totally under control! Nothing remotely, slightly, or even barely wrong is happening over here, trust me!" Wait, I have to know what this button does--"

The holographic image cut out as suddenly as it began. For a few dazed moments, not a breath was taken in that bulkhead. Then, with a look of confusion and fear marking his frame, the captain looked towards Noble Six and shakily said,

"...there. We'll start there."

Soul of the Renegade

The blazing white stars twinkled in the deep night of the cosmos, their unrivaled power on a dazzling display for all the galaxy to witness from thousands of light years away. In the vacuum of space, a single blade of shining purple and gray pierced the darkness of the empty nothingness. The massive vessel was most similar in appearance to a scimitar on the horizontal, the bow of the craft curving downwards and expanding outwards in a smoothly cut bell shape. The sword-like cruiser was adorned with blue and green lights, illuminating the outer hull of the ship in a neon display of power. The massive Covenant Super-Carrier, the Soul of the Renegade, was designed for autonomous planetary assault. Equipped with over 100 outer deck, super heated plasma cannons, it was capable of destroying entire fleets of enemy warships completely unassisted. The entire hulking beast measured at over three quarters of a mile long and seven hundred feet in width, rivaling the stature of the UNSC's prime warship, the Infinity.

The inner workings of the invincible vessel were equally as impressive as its outer shell. A cruiser of this size operated much like a portable city, fully equipped with thousands of living quarters, enough to house hundreds of thousands of loyal Covenant zealots. Dozens of individual armories contained enough combined firepower to destroy a large city. Massive cargo bays contained armadas of planetary assault vehicles, including Wraiths, Choppers, and Banshees. In the largest holding bay was the crown jewel of the cruiser's ground forces, a single, heavily armed Scarab. It's devastating Assault Beam had proven in the past that it could tear through flesh, through bone, through steel, though any opponent that dare threaten its majesty and power.

The heart and mind of the Soul of the Renegade, the bridge, was the primary operating room for the entire vessel. Located towards the bow of the ship, in the most heavily reinforced section of Covenant metal alloys, it was capable of withstanding a constant barrage of the most destructive firepower. It was the main housing bay of the commanders of the floating city, of which worked nonstop to ensure its seamless operation. Hundreds of feet across and at least a hundred high, the massive, dome shaped structure awed any Covenant soldiers fortunate enough to lay their eyes upon it.

The front portion of the bridge doubled as an observation area, made completely out of reinforced glass that curved upwards and outwards to form a bubble shape. From this viewpoint, a large, vibrant sphere hung in the vast emptiness of space. It was vivid and pleasing to the eye, with huge green swaths of land accented by cerulean oceans of even greater magnitude and power. A large, gray moon with oddly recognizable designs orbited around the planetary body in a perfectly calculated, majestic dance.

Staring with prideful, lusting eyes at the innocent world beneath him was an massive, imposing alien creature of unimaginable strength and prowess. Its legs resembled tree trunks of the greatest stature. It's torso was the breadth and with of a small tank. Its arms were covered in bulging, powerful muscles capable of ripping the limbs clean away from almost any known creature in the universe. Its head was the size of a large chair, covered entirely by a massive, ornate, titanium alloy helmet. The entire mass of brute power and capability was covered in mat of furry hair, invisible under the thick, red and gray armor of the Chieftain's combat uniform, scarred from years of warfare and hundreds of victories. Slung on the beast's wall of a back was an ornate, cylindrical object with a gigantic, metal head on the top end infused with a Covenant device capable of altering the laws of space-time in a sphere around it, the Gravity Hammer. It was the weapon of choice for the greatest Jiralhanae, or as they were commonly and dejectedly known as by humanity, Brutes.

The Chieftain's humongous arms were crossed as he pondered his current situation. Life had not been easy for him and his brothers. Since the assassination of Prophet Truth, the Jiralhanae had been rejected from common Covenant enclaves, as the blame for the downfall of the Great Journey was placed entirely on their own incompetence. In abject shame, they retreated into the dark depths of the galaxy, launching guerrilla warfare on the miserable humans who were truly to blame for the fragmentation of the Covenant whenever they could. Their efforts weren't even enough to garner significant attention by the UNSC, who treated them more as partisans than as an actual threat. This was largely due to the nature of the Jiralhanae, who believed in overwhelm and total warfare tactics. Anything less was labeled as pure cowardice. Retreat was unheard of. Death on the battlefield was the greatest fate attainable for the strongest of them, in their own glory hungry minds. However, that calculating Chieftain had seen enough bloodshed and defeat to understand that victory was often separate from glory.

The Chieftain had been searching for a suitable home for his defeated brethren, his brothers in arms, for years. The Soul of the Renegade may have been a perfectly stable civilization in itself, but it was nothing compared to the lush forests and open spaces of the world below his massive feet. While reading through old logistics sections of Covenant databases stored on the vessel, he was surprised to discover that this planet had survived a Sangheli invasion in the recent past. In a rush to hide their shame, the Sangheli had immediately encrypted all data regarding the vivid world. Since the downfall of the Covenant, however, many of their deepest secrets had long since been unearthed.

The Chieftain stroked his large, gray beard in thought. According to the logs, the planet had repelled the invasion mostly due to the actions of a Spartan, code-named Noble Six. The Chieftain had seen the immense power, the raw determination and intelligence, of Spartans on the battlefield before. They were not to be trifled with. If the Spartan was still present on the planet below him, his destruction would have to be swift and absolute. By invading the world, he was putting the lives of his brothers at risk. However, the Chieftain recognized that the benefits of gaining the lush, untainted planet far outweighed the risks of the losses they would attain. That planet, in the Brute's mind, could even become the next great home world of his species, an immense, shining kingdom for millennia to come. From that bastion, the Jiralhanae could again grow to be the greatest threat to humanity in the galaxy, and at last exterminate every single member of their blasphemous race for all eternity.

Pride bubbled in the heart of the Chieftain. He could become the singular ruler of that planet through its conquest, unite all of the scattered Jiralhanae under his sole command. He became eager to get the invasion underway. In a low, grumbling voice that resembled thunder, he spoke to his second in command, who was analyzing data on a nearby computing station,

"Are the scans complete?"

The strong Jiralhanae, adorned in his blue combat armor, lumbered up from his stooped position to face the Chieftain. His ape-like face was curled in a snarl. On the high-tech computer next to him, a series of large red dots flashed in the lower atmosphere of the planetary body. In a low, disgusted tone, he spoke to his fearless Chieftain,

"They are, my Chieftain. However, preliminary scans have detected five human warships in the planet's lower atmosphere."

The Chieftain's voice bellowed in an outburst of rage upon hearing this information, startling the rest of the crew aboard the bridge. He had not been expecting the heathen to arrive on this world. Five UNSC warships posed a major threat to his grand design. However, a sense of fear, of hopelessness, never entered his soul. Nothing would divert the course of his mission. The humans would feel the wrath of his brothers' rage, of his own destructive power.

"Bring them up on the monitor,"

The second in command pressed a colorful button on the control pad, causing a massive, three dimensional image to display itself from a large holographic projector in the center of the bridge. Every eye fell upon a digitized scene of five mid-sized UNSC warships, portrayed in red, high-definition pixels, hovering above the planet's green surface. Every soul, even the lowliest Grunt, hurled accusations and curses at the blasphemous vessels that dared to challenge their hold over the planet.

As the Chieftain calculated the scene before him, his face curled into an evil smile as he noticed yellow symbols hovering above each UNSC warship, indicating that they had already taken substantial damage. He did not question what had caused the damage, perfectly pleased knowing that his task would be made that much easier. Clenching his gargantuan fists, he turned to face his enraged and expecting crew. With a voice that shook the entire cruiser, he bellowed,

"The filth you see before you today will be a distant memory tomorrow, my brothers! We will destroy their fleet without mercy, the world below your feet will by ours, and we will feast upon their scattered remains in paradise!"

The bridge erupted in shouts and screams of approval and zealous rage, many Jiralhanae hurling their fists in the air in allegiance to their Chieftain. They would follow him to the most hellish corners of the universe, to death, and to the glory that lay in the life beyond. The Chieftain grasped his Gravity Hammer in both claws, raising it above his head in a display of power and victory.

"Today, my brethren, we fight! Today, we will have victory!"

Return of the Night

The ethereal lights winking in the heavens danced. They swirled and shimmered around her, a symbol of the majesty that she commanded. The entirety of the infinite cosmos waited for her command; she had no order yet to give, no rally call for her troops. The limitless power of space would have to wait and observe rather than become a player in this masquerade.

Penetrated like water as a small stone pebble shatters the zenith of the liquid, the empty space tore open a shining hole to make way for its ruler. The commander of the unknown facets of the eternal black depths glided through the bright white light, her expression cold and determined.

Instantly, the blackness vanished, leaving only an endless tunnel of undying light. With the unconquerable will of the night she accelerated, traveling at immeasurable speeds through the blinding corridor. Rather than sapping the energy from the princess of blackness, the light only gave her more strength. The quintessence of heaven itself was a mnemonic of what she had come so far to attain.

With a battle cry as shrill and beautiful as the sound of the creatures dwelling under her moon, the princess of the night burst forth from the tunnel like a speeding train, suddenly shattering the veil that separated the night from her prize.

The great gap separating the planes of reality was traversed, leaving Princess Luna surrounded by the reality she knew so well. Vibrant green swirled and danced below her hooves; cerulean blue dotted by great cotton ball clouds wafted above. From her vantage point a mile in the sky, the immense nation of Equestria sprawled outwards in all directions, a great canvass of unimaginable beauty and grace.

One evil blot of darkness distorted the heavenly landscape. Five vessels of unknown design and infinite power hovered in combat formation above the ruins of the once breathtaking town of Ponyville. Luna's eyes darkened in fury. The invaders must be punished.

The Princess of the Night took in a breath of fresh air, her first in what felt like millennia. She wiped rapidly accumulating sweat from her forehead with an armored hoof. Despite the fact she had survived, Luna's mission within the unfathomable nether regions of the Beyond had been a failure. Her theory that Celestia might be trapped in some unknown dimension of time and space begot nothing but further pain.

A rush of emotions accelerated into her mind, swirling a great stew of anger and sadness and helplessness. The Veil that separated her universe from every other had taken every ounce of the Princesses power and focus to shatter without a portal. For what, abandoning her subjects on a whim? Leaving them to battle an unknown force alone?

She reminded herself of the plan. The mission to retrieve Celestia from beyond the void was indeed a disaster, but all that is fallen is not yet lost. With a snort, Luna decided she would continue the operation after every single alien threat was eliminated. She hadn't spent a thousand years locked away on the moon to lose the earth now.

With all of the majesty of her eternal night sky, Luna raised her midnight blue wings upwards in a preparatory stance. Ponyville may have been dozens of miles away from her position, but distance is of no matter for the Night.

With a gust of wind powerful enough to shake the trees thousands of feet below her hooves, Princess Luna ordered her majestic wings in a sweeping arc downwards, gaining thousands of pounds of thrust in less than a second. The acceleration thereafter was both instantaneous and unimaginable. Similarly to how Rainbow Dash's extremely high speeds mid-flight cause the eye to only be able to perceive a rainbow streak across the sky, Luna left a dark blue, almost black line of power in her wake. The wind tore past her frame at incredible velocities; nonetheless she pressed on with all the will of the stars.

Her targets approached within her field of view so quickly that one might perceive she was focusing in on the position with a telescope far away. Ten miles, then eight, then four, then one.

Thrusting her wings upwards, she halted on a dime. The wind tunnel created by the sudden negative acceleration blasted forwards like a cannon, causing the nearby alien vessels to tremor slightly as it passed. Her eyes burned with furious white light. Her teeth were barred outwards in a blood chilling snarl. The innocent animals below cowered behind flora; the soaring birds of the air fled for their lives. The sky darkened as the night overtook the sky, leaving the area in a perpetual state of dusk. Even the eternal sun seemed to retreat slightly, fearing the wrath of its counter partner.

For a long moment, all was trapped by a state of silence as the Princess of the Night calculated the enemy before her. What she assumed to the bow of the closest alien ship slowly rotated to face the new enemy. Screeching alarms sounded from the strange floating vessel; a battle cry in the ears of the warrior Princess.

The white power of eternity glistening in her eyes spewed sparks and fueled licking flames as her majestic horn glowed ocean blue. Disregarding all of the self-restraint developed by Celestia since her return, she spoke with the the thunderous Royal Canterlot Voice,

"Creatures of darkness! Foul beings from the pit! I send you back to the void from which you came!"

As she focused all of the cosmic energies of the eternal night into the tip of her horn, a new noise came to her ears from far above, a sound that reminded Luna of one of Rainbow Dash's legendary Sonic Rainbooms. Years of battle reflexes subconsciously ordered her muzzle to look towards the possible new danger. However, the energy boiling within her horn acted as a hot gas inside a sealed container. With nowhere else to go but out, the blue and black blast of magical energy exploded upwards towards the sky.

_/.o0o.\_

The air is quiet and still. The heat of the day creates a musty environment for the creatures crawling across the warm earth. Evaporating pools of water create whips of swirling steam slowly streaking through the damp green grass. A red and blue speckled songbird nests in the knot of a tree comfortably with her young chicks. An energetic squirrel scuttles from one tree to the next in search of nuts to crack. A black and silver snake slithers across a collection of nearby limestone rocks in stealthy pursuit of a nearby mouse.

The songbird notices an odd grouping a very large creatures floating in the distance. Curious, it chirps a swift goodbye to its chicks and investigates, fluttering to a taller tree as a vantage point. Resting upon an extended branch above the forest canopy, the songbird turns its small head inquisitively. Magical and often threatening creatures were a common occurrence in the Everfree, but she did not recognize those large and seemingly dangerous things imposingly grouped together.

The faint and tranquil noises of the day are ruptured instantly by the sound of something penetrating the atmosphere. The supersonic waves of air shake the trees of the forest as an earthquake. Squirrels are knocked violently from their perches upon branches, birds of all kinds scatter in huge waves to flee the unknown force. The red and blue speckled songbird retreats swiftly to her nest in order to protect her defenseless hatch lings from the oncoming storm.

A blue stream of crackling light erupts from the middle of the sky, moving upwards at unimaginable speeds. The energy burst creates yet another shock-wave, causing strong trees in the near vicinity to collapse on themselves. After a few seconds of terror, the energy subsides. A black and blue figure falls.

For a few precious moments, the stillness returns. It is shattered again by something far worse.

A purple and orange lightning bolt suddenly strikes one of the alien objects floating in the sky. The air is blinded by a flash of white light for a full second, suddenly subsiding to reveal the evisceration that followed upon the poor vessel.

A shadow falls upon the Everfree, a shadow in the shape of a teardrop.

Once More Unto the Breach

Darkness, one of the greatest foes against all that is living, comes in countless evil forms. It creeps in the shadows of the day and night. It lingers in the abandoned alleyway, the ransacked restaurant, the haunted house. It dwells within both the living and the dead, and is what lies in between. It was there before the light, and will exist long after the light's passing. It cannot be created or destroyed, for it exists wherever the universe exists.

Often, darkness will take the vessel of a living being, consuming it until it is but a servant of its whims. Darkness was made to devour. Therefore, it will cling to whatever will destroy the most. The black void left behind by death is far more welcoming to it.

No surprise, then, that the shadow slowly descending upon Equestria was cast by something far darker than the shadow's own physical substance. Something far more evil than the vilest villain to ever plague that innocent world; something far more destructive than the most consuming disease. It was a hypocritical power, fueled by a false religion that dictated death to all who failed to worship its prophets. It was filled by brainwashed zealots who were taught nothing else but death to humans and their allies since birth. It was a pact made by those who believed that the gods of the universe were on their side; a Covenant forged in the blood of both those who died for the cause of megalomaniacs and those who opposed it.

The shadow was cast by a hulking beast of metal and plasma, adorning the color reserved for those revered, purple. Within the bridge of this evil vessel resided a beast of even greater villainy, one who took sport in the death of others. It stood on a blue, reinforced hard-light bridge that allowed for a full view of the landscape in front and below. The slowly descending mass of charred metal and crimson fire that was the UNSC mid-class warship, Dauntless, was a sight of great joy for all those cheering upon the deck of the Soul of the Renegade.

The Chieftain's huge canines curled into a prideful grin. The retaliatory cleansing beam strike upon the warship had more than the desired results. Indeed, the unknown energy weapon fired from an unidentifiable source had done considerable damage to the Soul of the Renegade's life support systems. In order to minimize casualties, the Chieftain had been forced to completely disable life support for numerous Unggoy habitats. What were a few stumpy, insignificant creatures in terms of the Great Journey, anyway?

"My Chieftain, the pack awaits your orders."

The words spoken from his second in command turned the Chieftain's attention to his brothers in arms. The Jiralhanae closest to his inner circle of trust, about fifty in all, keeled to promote the authority the Chieftain demanded. Only his second in command was permitted to stand in the Chieftain's presence; even so, his head was bowed in reverence.

The Jirhalhanae of the Lone Wolf Pack had every reason to revere their Chieftain so genuinely. He was physically the most imposing and arguably the strongest member of the pack, which was a prerequisite for a leader among their kind. It was said in whispers that he once crushed the helmet of a Spartan with his bare hands. This brute strength, of course, meant that he could defend himself from any other member of the pack who grew too ambitious. The dismembered head of one of his brothers resting upon the end of a Gravity Hammer in the corner of the bridge was evidence as such.

The Chieftain possessed much more than just physical strength, however. Most Jiralhanae are endowed with much brute ability in exchange for actual brain power. In the early days of the Human-Covenant war, their physical strength alone was enough to secure many victories, while wiser Sangheli made difficult battle decisions. Today, however, in the wake of a human resurgence and the downfall of the Covenant, the Chieftain understood that simply hurling masses of his brothers at the enemy was only going to result in their demise. The Lone Wolf Pack needed a leader who was also calculating, one who could analyze a situation and react with tact. Their Chieftain was perhaps one of the only Jiralhanae left in existence who possessed such finesse upon the battlefield.

It was no surprise to the loyal members of the Lone Wolf Pack, therefore, that the engagement of UNSC forces upon this new world was already going so smoothly. Any other leader among them might've panicked after being fired upon by an unknown and powerful energy weapon. Not so for their Chieftain.

Analyzing his brothers-in-arms with that same crimson fire in his eyes he always seemed to exhume, the Chieftain swiftly checked each one of them for battle readiness and blood thirstiness. When the Covenant fell and the Jiralhanae were blamed, as the Sangheli were for the assassination of the Prophet of Regret years earlier, his pack could have easily deserted him for a better life roaming the stars. Yet, they remained faithful, and in the five years leading to this point dozens of them had already fought and died for their brothers and their Chieftain.

With a voice hoarse from years of commanding the battlefield, the Chieftain addressed the prepared members of Lone Wolf Pack,

"My brothers, the gods are surely with us upon this glorious day. I know that you are ready, as I am, to die for those who fell before us. Our fellow brothers who sacrificed themselves for this pack have now no longer done so in vain. Their spirits have guided us to the world below your feet. It is already yours. All we must do now is reclaim it from the demons who have enslaved it."

As pride and blood lust bubbled and swirled in the hearts of the pack, they began to shout and roar as their Chieftain continued,

"We will wait no longer! No longer do we wait for the orders of the Prophets while the blood of our fathers and sons spill upon the battlefield! Our destiny is at last our own to command, and our destiny has brought us the double fortune of human flesh on which to feed and a world of our own on which to rebuild."

Hefting his modified Gravity Hammer above his head with both huge hands, he continued his speech in roaring tones,

"Your orders are simple, brothers! We do not halt our attack until every drop of human blood dyes the green grass below crimson."

Growls and roars of excitement and triumph erupted from the proud members of Lone Wolf Pack, startling the surrounding crew members of other species. The Chieftain smiled as his loyal Jiralhanae encouraged one another to prepare for battle, swiftly charging out of the room in order to seek the most lethal gear they could find. After this, only the second in command, adorned in the black and gold ornate armor of a Jiralhanae who has proved his worth on the battlefield, remained. Turning to face his Chieftain, he inquired,

"The anti-matter and plasma cannons are fully operational, Chieftain. Shall I give the order to barrage the vessels?"

The Chieftain pursed his mangled white beard in thought as he responded to the officer,

"You may. However, prior reports from the Sangheli databases document a rather infamous Spartan acting as guardian of this world. Have you found any further information?"

"A short while before you summoned us, we intercepted a transmission from the UNSC fleet. The gods smile upon us; the vessels are already being assaulted by the sentient species inhabiting this planet. The last defender of Reach is currently attempting to diffuse the situation aboard the center most ship."

The Chieftain began striding towards the main holographic control panel in the center of the bridge, his hulking frame causing reverberations throughout the large metallic room. Displayed on hovering monitor were the four remaining UNSC warships, with the target ship in question highlighted in the center of the formation. After analyzing the situation, the Chieftain turned to his second most officer, saying in commanding tones,

"Destroy the three surrounding vessels with a sustained plasma barrage, then use the anti-matter cannons to disable the center ship's Slipspace drives. Our glory will never be fully restored until we kill the last demon of Reach. I want the Spartan to die by my own hands."

Broken Arrow

Red and orange flames danced like deadly fireflies in the cracked window of the bridge of the Valkyrie. Following not far behind was the terrible shock wave caused by the destruction of the Firefight.

Every Marine in the room was blown backwards by the force of the nearby explosion. The cracked window pane finally gave way, allowing a swift burst of energy to blast away two unfortunate service workers. The hull of the Valkyrie shook and groaned, loose metal panels giving way to reveal dangling electrical wires hanging like vines. Unable to swiftly compensate for the shift in force, the ship was pushed as if by an invisible hand away from the wreckage.

The chaos that followed was deafening. Panicked Marines scrambled from one side of the room to the other, some tending for the numerous wounded sprawled on the cold deck and others desperately attempting to repair vital systems. Golden sparks danced from damaged computer consoles, some igniting electrical fires from nearby equipment.

Captain Marcus Andrews opened his eyes lethargically. He bared his teeth, angry at the incessant ringing in his ears that wouldn't stop. The world was a blur, a nauseating swirl of grays and greens and every other shade imaginable. A long moment passed as the shock of the situation wouldn't quite reach his consciousness. He attempted to rally his thoughts, to act as a captain should, only to be halted by an intense throbbing in his head. He tried the simple act of walking, only to find himself seemingly paralyzed...but by what, he wondered.

He watched absently as a Marine's arm was blown away by a stray explosion from an overloaded computer. "Why can't I move?" he wondered, "why can't I do anything? This isn't what's supposed to happen. I wasn't trained for this."

"Why can't I move?"

The question burned in his mind. He sought answers through little more than pleading looks at the scrambling Marines, only to receive ignorance in reply. One Marine, a young scraggly fellow, looked into his eyes for just a second. Marcus saw only pity in those eyes as the Marine averted his gaze.

He felt cold. An odd feeling, he decided. Just moments ago, the bridge had been rather toasty for his liking. What was happening just moments ago? He found he couldn't quite remember, as someone struggles to remember a dream of nights past.

He felt tired. That feeling confused him too. Shouldn't any sensible Marine be fueled by adrenaline in a situation like this? Yet, he wanted to close his eyes, even if just for a little while. The numbness in his legs confused him too, but he had little energy to ponder it. He saw only chaos and confusion expressed in the wild stares and panicked movements of the Marines he was supposed to care for, the men and women who relied on him for their very lives.

Through the sound of death, he felt a noise reverberate through his being. A consistent, powerful, thump-thump-thump, like the sound of a blacksmith forging a weapon with his hammer. He forced his eyelids open to find the source of this odd sound, turning his weary head right towards the source.

There he saw him. A savior of humanity, a demon in the eyes of those bent on its destruction. The slayer of a thousand evil creatures for darkest depths and the rescuer of tens of thousands innocent lives. He seemed to exist on a different level of reality than the dozens of maddened Marines darting in and out of Marcus's field of vision. His gray armor, blackened in places by plasma fire, contrasted sharply with the greens and reds of the burning deck. While the other men and women moved as a mob, his movements were sharp, defined, determined as the wolf.

His features were hidden under a helmet whose visor was a tan brown, slightly reflective in the light of the bridge. In that visor Marcus saw his own stunned face. He felt a swift twinge of guilt as his pleading eyes looked back into his own. Marcus had thought himself to be as much a warrior as anybody, as courageous, if not more so, than those whom served under him. Looking into that reflective visor and into himself, however, Marcus saw only a broken, prideful man, an officer who brought death and destruction upon his loyal Marines through his arrogant blindness.

In a long moment, the Spartan was directly in front of him. Marcus watched, dreamily detached from his own mind, as the Spartan hefted him over his shoulder. He wanted to protest for a moment, to say that he could carry himself, only to discover an intense numbness spreading from his legs.

The tiredness quickly grew overwhelming. He allowed his eyes to close for just a moment, only to be shocked awake by a voice like a lethal viper,

"Captain, stay awake. Stay with me, sir."

The pleading words indeed kept him from unconsciousness, at least for curiosity's sake. Why was the Spartan so determined to keep him awake. He was so tired...

"Just a little further, sir."

His sight faded at last. Only muffled sounds entered his ears now, the sounds of rapid movement and panicked voices. He felt a dropping sensation, followed swiftly by the sound of a monotonous beeping. He felt his entire body go numb and finally give way to the exhaustion. Darkness took him.

_.-0-._

Noble Six hefted the broken man onto the hospital cart as the medics swiftly wheeled him away. He had little time to ponder what might happen to the Captain as he turned to look for more wounded. Blast, there were quite a few.

A Marine missing his right arm tried desperately to get to his feet to help a fellow downed serviceman, only to slip on his own blood and fall back upon the cold, steel floor. That act, vain and gruesome as it presented itself, was typical of so many courageous men and women dedicated to selfless service. That critically wounded Marine was more concerned about the life of the man next to him than the blood spurting from the stump of whatever remained of his arm.

Noble Six hadn't really admired this quality in his Marines before. It was simply an expectation that came with the job. However, after his recent events when those he truly cared about lost their lives, he found himself admiring much more about these sacrifices. His late team certainly did.

Without speaking a word, Six hefted the two wounded Marines on each of his shoulders. A short walk and they were on another urgent care bed heading towards the sick bay, now filling rapidly with victims of the surprise attack.

While to the other stunned Marines Noble Six certainly seemed completely calm and sure of himself, he felt otherwise. Years of military discipline result in that air of certainty around Spartans, but underneath that facade are feelings quite similar to yours our mine, perhaps suppressed. It is that calm ferocity that makes the blood of the Covenant run cold, that earns the respect of every Marine.

Noble Six had little experience regarding naval warfare. This uncertainty brought an element of fear and uncertainty swirling in his gut. He mentally reminded himself to read up on it, should he survive.

He understood that time was limited before the Covenant Super-Carrier recharged its cleansing beam and eviscerated the remainder of the fleet. Turning to face the room, he saw the faces of the panicked officer and enlisted Marines. There was shock, there was confusion, and there was fear in their wild eyes.

One Marine stood with a large gash in his left shoulder and a communicator up to his ear, frantic, "The Valkyrie is hit, major systems offline! Requesting immediate support from the Hammer. Respond immediately!"

The Marine's eyes widened further as he continued, "What do you mean you're under attack? By what? Just shoot the bastards and get over here!"

Six's heart stopped and his blood ran cold as the reality of what was about to happen set in. Moving twice as quick as a Marine runs away from a horde of Flood, he snatched the communicator from the startled Marine and activated the intercom system. His voice echoed over every ship in the entire fleet with a power that demanded respect,

"This is Spartan B312 speaking. On behalf of the UNSC, I apologize for the conflict conducted with the inhabitants of this world and order all personnel to lay down weapons."

On a nearby monitor, each nearby frigate's command center was displayed in high definition. The scene was rather comical. The ponies and humans that had been locked in a magic-fueled stalemate suddenly stopped fighting, many simply freezing in place before firing a spell of shooting their guns.

"Captain Andrews is critically wounded. As of now, I am temporary commander of this fleet. All ships, ready MAC cannons to fire on my mark. To the inhabitants of this world, I cannot guarantee your safety. Evacuate immediately."

Giving the intercom back to the trembling Marine, Noble Six strode to the center of the command deck. A high backed steel arm chair rested on an elevated platform, facing the shattered observatory now open to the chill wind. Taking a seat in the captain's chair, he addressed the dozens of eyes fixated on their new leader,

"Prepare to engage the Covenant Super-Carrier. We must disable the enemy Cleansing Beam before it is ready to fire."

For a long moment, nobody dared to move a muscle. Most of the Marines were shocked by what they were hearing. Engage the Covenant Super-Carrier, a behemoth almost a mile long, armed with enough firepower to destroy an entire planet alone? Their broken and distraught fleet of four damaged mid-class cruisers surely didn't stand a chance.

One perhaps brave, perhaps fool-hearty enlisted Marine stood to challenge Six's order, saying, "Respectfully, sir, the Super-Carrier's shields are still online. Our MAC rounds will have no effect."

Every soul in the room held their breaths as Noble Six took a few seconds to respond, unwavering and cold, "Regardless, either we destroy that Cleansing Beam or it destroys us."

Another officer stood, only to be immediately sat back down by Noble Six's lethal voice, "And I will not abandon this world to the Covenant."

"Bring the fleet into position and target the Cleansing Beam."

This time, nobody dared to speak a word. The damaged Valkyrie lurched forwards, engines operating at full capacity, to point its nose at the sky. The rest of the fleet formed a compact triad around the Valkyrie in a defensive formation, also pointing their MAC cannons towards the above Super-Carrier.

Noble Six felt cold anger as he saw the gigantic vessel through the broken observatory. The Covenant Super-Carrier hung in the blue sky like a specter. A shadow descended upon the bow of the fleet, extending downwards onto the earth below. The hull of the carrier was a dark purple, seemingly absorbing the light around it to create a menacing darkness. Various systems shone with cerulean blue lights, like small suns, providing energy to the vessel. At the center of the carrier, protruding outwards like a dagger was the ship's Cleansing Beam. The Spartan eyed it with a glare. That weapon was capable of instantly disintegrating a small city into glass in one burst. It was essentially a controlled nuclear detonation.

Such power would ravage the serene landscape of the life forms he sacrificed so much to protect. His blood boiled as he watched it glow a bright orange, signifying that it was beginning to charge. The Covenant had tried in the past to destroy everything he loved, and they had succeeded to a large extent. Not this time. Not while he lived.

"What is the status of the MAC cannons?" Noble Six's voice demanded attention from the confused and terrified servicemen and women strewn about the bridge.

"All ships report green, sir. Awaiting your order."

Like a swarm of bees, hundreds Covenant intercept ships, including Banshees and Phantoms, descended from the vessel, rapidly approaching the undefended fleet. Noble Six's voice grew more determined as he spoke into the captain's communicator,

"Noble Six to the Steelheart, prepare to fire."

"This is Lieutenant Burns, ready to fire on your command."

Everyone in the bridge held their breaths as the horde of Covenant assault craft grew closer, at last, a voice broke the silence,

"Fire."

The lack of a reinforced glass pane for the command deck allowed for the cracking sound of the MAC cannon to temporarily deafen the ears of every Marine aboard the Valkyrie. For a moment, only a loud ringing remained in Noble Six's ears. Finally, Noble Six opened his eyes.

The Covenant Super-Carrier's shields had deflected the MAC blast. The swarm of assault craft seemed infuriated by the gesture, descending more swiftly upon them. The forward scouts were already blasting the fleet with sustained plasma fire.

"Six to the Conflux, fire!"

Another shot rang out in his ears, like the sound of a hammer railing against a steel plate, but with so much more emphasis and force.

"Sir, the carrier's shields are still up! I recommend immediate evac!"

Hordes of Banshees ripped apart the Steelheart's outer hull while the broken vessel activated its reserve flak cannons in an attempt to ward off the invaders.

"Hammer, fire at will."

Another shot and another reading indicating the shields were still up. Noble Six gritted his teeth. It was all or nothing now. The enemy Cleansing Beam glowed with a fierce orange light.

"Sir, that Cleansing Beam is 90 percent charged! We've gotta get out of here now!" The frantic Marine couldn't contain himself any longer. It was his life Noble Six was betting on, and Six himself was quite aware of that risk.

"Ready MAC cannon." Six's concise and powerful voice again caused the Marines to follow the order. The horde of Banshees reached the outer hull of the Valkyrie; already the ship began to groan in protest of the sudden plasma barrage.

Live or die, everything hung in the balance of the next shot.

"Fire."