Halo: The Interlopers

Chapters

A New Nest; A Surprise Guest
A Homecoming With Guests
Down Time
Revelations and Revolutionaries
For the Swarm
Lost Cause
Mare Tranquillitatis
Start Spreadin' The News
Cloak and Dagger
Lost
Fallen Idol (Part One)
Fallen Idol (Part Two)
Jailbreak
Ain't That a Kick in the Head?
Showtime
Home Free
Doomsday Clock
Honorable Intentions
Back in the Saddle
Point Insertion
Correspondence
Two-Face
Red Moon
Kryptonite
On the Widowmaker's Peak
Under Pressure
Hearts and Hooves and Hands
Operation Neptune Spear
Finish the Fight
Never Forget
Arrival
They Came In Peace; They Came In War
Escape from New Yoke
Deleted Scene: Singing in the Streets
Wake Up, John

A New Nest; A Surprise Guest

They walked to Applejack’s farm, like Mark told them to. They conversed on the way, while Spike pulled a small red wagon loaded with the things they’d brought when they were stargazing.

“I don’t know about this 'Mark' guy,” Rainbow Dash began, “I mean, what the hay is a first contact team?”

“Well Rainbow,” Twilight responded, “‘First contact’ is a term used to describe the first meeting a species has with an alien species. It’s often used in science fiction and has become a fairly common term among astronomers. So basically, he meant that humans wanted to establish peaceful relations with us, and the group sent to do just that is missing.”

“I find it rather odd that he just disappeared like he did,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, something about how he moved scares me. And the idea of him being from space is kinda creepy too,” Spike chimed in.

“I just hope he likes chocolate cake, he looks like he’d like chocolate. Wait, if I have to keep this a secret, I’ll have to make the cake secretly too. Ooh, ninja cake!” Pinkie Pie said, excited by the idea of a surprise party for their surprising arrival. “Oh, and the party can be ninja-themed! This’ll be great!”

“Pinkie, I dunno if he wants a party. I mean, I’m sure he’d like one of your parties, but he seems kinda serious. And he don’t seem the social type neither,” AJ said.

“I think Mark seems nice enough,” Twilight interjected “Odd name, but friendly. It’s so exciting talking to a real alien! I’d like to see what kind of things he can do. Or hear stories about the places he’s been and the things he’s done.”

“I hope those people he said were missing are okay, it’d be just horrible if something had happened to them. I mean, if they came all the way from space to be friends with us, they shouldn’t have to be hurt,” Fluttershy said, finally speaking about the new arrival.

They were fairly silent after that. They reached AJ’s farm a little while later, and arrived at the empty barn Applejack had offered Mark.

“Um, if y’all are there, ya can come out now,” AJ said in a loud whisper, worried about waking her family a few hundred meters away.

Mark appeared quite literally out of nowhere; he didn’t drop from the ceiling or pop up from the ground, he seemed to phase in out of a faint shimmer in the air.

“Ah, the wonders of active camouflage,” Mark said. “And that’s how I got here undetected. Since I might be staying here a bit, I’ll probably have to close the doors, just so my presence remains a secret. Is that okay?”

“Sure, but y’all don’t want anything to do?” AJ inquired.

“Well, if you’ve got any books, that’d be nice.”

“I’m sure Twi can hook ya up.”

“Alright. Twilight, if you have any books that are non-fiction, realistic fiction, encyclopedias, maps, or social commentary, then please get me some. I think it might help me understand your culture a bit better.”

“You got it, Mark! I’ll drop some off around noon.” Twilight said with a wink and a smile.

The ponies left after that, and shut Mark in.

***

Mark found it surprising how accepting the ponies were, given that he’d known them for only an hour and a half. And they were practically giving him what he’d expected the diplomats in the FC team would take days to get.

I don’t think it’s that I’m a good diplomat, the locals just seem pretty trusting. I can see that being easily exploited though, so that might be a problem later on. Then again, it might be a trait particular to this region.

Mark began to assemble a report on his experiences with the inhabitants of this planet, and included his hypothesis explaining the existence of mythological creatures. He wouldn’t be able to send it until his team broke radio silence or the four day deadline was reached, so he kept it saved in the suit’s computer.

He found a nice, secluded spot in the barn, and went to sleep.

***

The group had all begun heading to their respective homes after shutting Mark in one of AJ’s barns. Some of them had reservations about providing shelter to an alien, but none of them were going to break the secret they had decided to keep. Ponyville had a history of xenophobia.

“How’re you going to get those books to him, I mean, without being suspicious?” Spike asked Twilight Sparkle, wanting to know her plan.

“Well, I have been meaning to make room in the library for new books, so I could tell anypony suspicious that I’m just storing some extra books. It’d be true anyway, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.” Twilight responded.

“And you know he can read them how?”

“Well, he seems fairly clever, so he should be able to figure it out.”

“If you say so.”

Spike thought that Twilight seemed just a little too friendly and trusting toward the alien. He kept these thought to himself, but they never really left his mind for long. He came up with the idea that Twilight might have developed a romanticized or otherwise idealistic notion of what aliens were like from some of her books, but he kept that too to himself.

The rest of the day went fairly normally, with Twilight gathering dozens of books that she believed Mark would be interested in, and putting them into a small wagon.

***

“Deliverance, this is Surgeon, we have reached the objective, how copy?”

Mark was awake, waiting in the barn for something to happen when he heard Jason contact the Deliverance. He knew they were using callsigns as per standard operating procedure, and recognized Jason’s.

“Solid copy, Surgeon, requesting sitrep.”

“We’ve located the missing team, all accounted for, all KIA. Looks like hostile wildlife got them. Something big, and they didn’t kill it. Large claw marks on most of them, but their Pelican’s still intact, flyable and with a large amount of fuel. No contact with local sentients so far. Will transmit report over comms soon.”

Mark began speaking on the comm. “This is Raptor; I’ve made contact with local sentients. I’m in a barn belonging to one of the group that found me. Locals seem to be sapient ponies, regular as well as unicorns and pegasi, a baby dragon was also part of the group that discovered my pod. They seem to speak English; I understood them without my armor’s translation software being engaged.”

There was a long silence, likely filled with disbelief and verification of Mark’s mental capacity via his armor’s now-transmitting systems.

“Say again, you said you’ve encountered anthropomorphic ponies? Regular, unicorn and pegasi, as well as a baby dragon? And they speak English?” The orbiting fleet’s leader, Vice Admiral Thaddeus Hunt, had apparently taken the comms station from whoever he was speaking with earlier.

“Affirmative on all counts. I’ve already compiled a report during my stay here. Transmitting now. Knife team, I’m sending my coordinates to you, regroup here ASAP.”

“Roger Raptor, will comply. Surgeon out.”

“Raptor, this is Vice Admiral Hunt. I’m bringing the rest of Eagle Sword into orbit, keep us posted. Deliverance out.”

***

Twilight Sparkle and Spike were bringing the books Mark had asked for to Sweet Apple Acres. They were just a hundred meters away from the barn where Mark was when something happened. Had it been under almost any other circumstances, it would have been a pleasant surprise.

None other than Princess Celestia had decided to pay her star student a visit. She descended gracefully as could be and smiled at Twilight.

“Princess Celestia!” both Twilight and Spike exclaimed, bowing almost immediately.

“I was flying around on my own, something I can rarely enjoy as royalty, and I saw you, so I decided to say hello. This is Applejack’s farm, yes?” She was remarkably approachable for royalty, and was almost like a second mother to Twilight.

“Um, yes. I’m just putting some books into storage here. I uh, wanted to make room for a few new books in the library, and I decided to store these here, because there’s a completely empty barn, and so the Apples could read them if they wanted to.” Twilight said sheepishly, hiding behind a nervous smile.

Around then, a pair of bipedal figures similar to Mark strode onto the fields. One was silver with a large blue “eye”, blue on its wrist, and a somewhat different appearance, although with the same masculine silhouette as Mark and the other. The other was the same green as Mark, but with a different head, chest, and knees, in addition to a yellow stripe on its chest and golden “eye”.

***

Mark saw that Ethan and Jason’s waypoints were near, and exited the barn to greet them and promptly usher them inside. Unbeknownst to him as he exited, he had unexpected company.

He saw Twilight, who looked intimidated, next to a much larger pony, practically a full-grown horse, with both wings and a horn. It seemed benevolent from its expression, and regal from its crown. The word “alicorn” came to mind as Mark looked at the large pony. About fifty meters from them was Jacob, who had taken point, and Alan, whose silver-grey armor had caught the sun and shone just a bit.

Well, shit. This’ll be awkward.

Mark decided that since their presence was no longer covert, he would forgo using active camo, and try to explain. He strode up to the ponies, and his friends did the same. Spike hid behind the wagon carrying the books, fearing a confrontation, verbal or otherwise.

Mark cleared his throat, but the alicorn spoke first, in a stern tone to Twilight.

“Twilight Sparkle, could you explain to me who or what these beings are?”

“I think they’re humans Princess, but I swear I didn’t bring them here. The only one I’ve seen before is that green one with the blue eye.” Twilight spoke as if she were confessing to a parent.

“Humans have been extinct on this planet for almost as long as I’ve been alive, how did they get here? And why do they only have the vague silhouettes of humans?” Celestia went from stern to intrigued after Twilight mentioned they were human.

Mark cleared his throat again, and this time he drew the attention of the one Twilight called “Princess Celestia”. He checked his heads up display to make sure he had his weapons with him, and he did; if this ended badly, Mark wanted to win any potential fight. Then again, he didn't want to provoke her either.

“And who might you be?” Celestia asked.

Mark decided to give his full name and rank this time. If she was an important pony, then now would be the time to give such information. If not, he had many options to deny the spread of information.

“Lieutenant Colonel Mark Thompson, United Nations Space Command Army. You can call me ‘Mark’ if you wish, ma’am.” He saluted briefly, deciding to err on the safe side when dealing with a possible leader.

“A soldier? Why would a soldier be here?” Celestia inquired.

“Ma’am, my team was investigating the disappearance of a fist contact team sent to establish peaceful diplomatic relations with this planet. My drop pod was knocked off-course by an unknown force and I landed adjacent to where Twilight and her friends appeared to be stargazing.”

“I might have mistaken your, um, ‘drop pod’ for a meteoroid and tried to bring it closer and more into my telescope's focus with my magic. And then I sort of lost control and threw it off-course.” Twilight admitted. This turned heads; Mark didn’t realize Twilight was the reason he had made contact with them.

“Anyway, my team located the missing first contact team about an hour ago. All twenty-three of them were killed by an unknown entity, assumed to be local wildlife. I ordered them to meet me here, which, it seems, caused this incident. Would you be able to introduce me to the head of state of this country?”

“Actually, that would be me.” Celestia responded with a smile. She was quite approachable for the leader of a country.
Mark and Celestia discussed the conditions and the location of a summit. They agreed to hold it in Canterlot Castle. Mark confirmed this with Vice Admiral Hunt, who agreed to the summit.

Author's Note

Don't expect me to make a habit of including pictures. There's only one more in the whole story, much later on.

A Homecoming With Guests

Three days and two nights had passed since the raid on Canterlot Castle. Most of Equestria had come to view the humans as heroes, or simply accepted them, but a vocal minority opposed their presence on the planet. The world at large was little more than a macrocosm of the consensus in Equestria. The largely trusting nature of ponies facilitated the establishment of UNSC bases on the surface of the planet, and improved the conditions that personnel stationed planetside lived in.

Princess Celestia requested that Knife team be stationed in the base adjacent to her castle, and even offered them fairly luxurious rooms in the stone building. Knife team accepted both without hesitation, once their superiors had stated that they would allow it.

Celestia requested Mark see her on a balcony on the exterior of the castle, where she gazed at the stars. His helmet was off and under his left arm, his weapons slung on his back.

“Before I tell you why I summoned you, I want to thank you again for saving us. If you hadn’t arrived on Equis…”

“Don’t mention it,” Mark said with a small but genuine smile, “You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes. You remember my student, Twilight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“She and her friends requested to visit one of your starships, to see how humans live and travel.”

“I could arrange for that. But you have to understand, a military vessel is not an accurate representation of how most humans live. The only really human thing they’d experience is what it’s like to be in space. We’re not going to take a joyride to another star just so they can get frozen during the trip like the most of us do.”

“I understand, and so do Twilight and her friends. But it would be more to go on than nothing. What they really want is to just be in space.”

“Well then, I’ll try to work something out.”

It took several hours to convince his superiors, but Mark was able to get permission for Twilight, AJ, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie, Spike, Rarity and Fluttershy to come aboard the UNSC Deliverance. When Princess Celestia heard, she sent a letter to Twilight, telling her to wait outside her house with her friends the next day at noon.

***

Twilight had convinced Spike to stay behind, and take care of his pet phoenix and Owloysius, as well as take care of her house while she was gone. She told him she might be gone for a day or two, and to not do anything crazy.

“Are y’all a little scared to go so high up, or is it just me?” AJ looked apprehensive, as if she wanted to abandon the idea of being among the stars and planets.

“I think we’re all a little scared. Me, I’m just worried about how there’s no air in space.” Rainbow Dash never admitted fear, so when she said that, it gave the others pause.

“Oo-oo-oo-ooh! In spa-a-ace nopony can hear you scre-e-e-eam!” Pinkie Pie joked, as she just laughed away the fear like she almost always did. Thankfully for the others, this bit of humor mostly allayed their fears too, and they joined her in giggling.

“I’m sure the view will be gorgeous up there! But with it being a military ship and all, I imagine the uniforms aren’t quite as splendid.” Rarity said.

They heard a screech from afar, which rapidly increased in volume. The metal bird they had previously rode in, or one that looked near-identical, began to descend vertically after revealing itself to be source of the shriek.
Ponyville had quickly become accustomed to these “birds” occasionally passing through since they’d started appearing a few days ago, but they hadn’t seen one land before. They town was certainly surprised to see the rear end open to reveal three armored humans, and even more so to see several ponies enter it before it shut and flew off.

On board, Twilight and her friends saw Mark, Jason and Ethan without their helmets. The ride managed to be as scary for them as the first time, but only because this time they were leaving the atmosphere they’d breathed all their lives.

“This’ll be bumpier than last time,” Jason began, “But it’s still safer than it seems. Literally a hundred times safer than in the drop pods we went down in. I’m trying to think of something not as clichéd as ‘close your eyes and think happy thoughts’, but you can do that in the meantime.”

The ponies chuckled lightly at that. Most of them took Jason’s advice, deciding to think about the view they’d have after this, and the cool things they’d see on board.

As if Mark had read their thoughts, “What you’re gonna see is some advanced technology, but the ship itself is fairly utilitarian in its interior design.”

“Bravo zero-four-zero requesting permission to dock with the UNSC Deliverance, over.” Ethan said.

“Who’s he talking to?” Pinkie asked.

“He’s talking to the flight control center of the UNSC Deliverance, a Marathon-class heavy cruiser, the ship we’re about to board.”

“How? I mean, ya kept talking to yourself when we was in that cellar in the castle, an’ then ya said that you’d been talking to humans in orbit. What kinda magic is that anyhow?” Applejack queried.

“Humans don’t have magic; the only ‘magic’ we use is illusions for the entertainment of adults and children. Most of what appears to be ‘magic’ is just modern technology. As the 20th-century science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke once said, ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ Even after almost six hundred years, that still rings true,” Mark explained. “In this case, the technology is the radio, which is a few decades older than that quote.”

"Oh, radio, right."

Just as Mark finished explaining, the flight control center responded.

“Bravo zero-four-zero, this is UNSC Deliverance, you are cleared to dock, proceed along designated path. Sorry we couldn’t get to you faster, we’re transitioning to the whole fleet sharing control over deployments, but for now our control center is pretty busy.”

“Roger Deliverance, proceeding along designated path. Glad I ain’t you,” Ethan responded. “All right, we’re gonna enter hangar two in four minutes,” He said to the passengers, “Thing is, hangar two’s docking shield is down, so they’ll have to shut it with the regular doors and re-pressurize after we land. That’ll take about two minutes.”
Twilight changed the subject to one tangentially related to their previous discussion.

“Speaking of decades, how long do humans live?” She queried.

“Well, your average human, without any physiological alterations, lives about ninety years, but it’s not uncommon to see people over a hundred. However, slipspace travel, which is how humans travel faster than light, usually entails humans being cryogenically frozen, which halts their aging altogether, mostly because it still takes a while to travel between solar systems. Your average lifer, which is someone who’s a soldier for a living instead of just serving a short stint, is physically only half their chronological age, because of the time spent in cryo-sleep. We’ve got eighty year-old officers who are only forty physically,” Mark explained. “I’m actually thirty-six years old, but I’m physically only nineteen. I look bigger because, well, SPARTANs are physically enhanced for the purposes of war.”

“Hey, is that the ship we’re going to?” Dash inquired, pointing to the Deliverance through the cockpit window.

“Yeah,” Jason responded, “I’ll bring it up on the screen back here, so you don’t have to crowd Ethan.” He turned the screens in the front of the troop bay on, and punched in a few commands. The cruiser popped up, and the screens displayed various pieces of general information about it, including both imperial and metric measurements of its size and mass.

The ponies crowded around the screen, gazing at the information and images before them.

“100,000 tons, 3,190 feet long, 960 feet wide,” Twilight read aloud, awed by the numbers as the other ponies were. “How big is a foot?”

Mark put his hands exactly twelve inches from each other, palms facing inward, to indicate the size.

“That’s two hooves! I can’t believe anypony, uh, anybody, could build something so massive!”

“Well, there are larger ships we have, but not many, and they’re thrice the size. The average Covenant ship was the same size as this one, and the biggest ones were 95,000 feet long. And they weren’t made of cardboard either; they had tough armor, and tougher energy shields. We’ve only got energy shields on a few dozen ships, and a few types of fighters! Thankfully, the Deliverance is one of the few with energy shields, and they’re strong ones too.” Mark made sure to emphasize the technological superiority of the Covenant, which obviously carried over to the remnants that had attacked the castle days earlier.

“All right, beginning final approach,” Ethan stated.

The ponies, Mark and Jason sat down and waited for the Pelican to land, and to be let out. When it did land, it was almost silent, the only noise being a thump as it touched down on the tarmac. The occupants could feel the vibration of the landing, and similarly felt the movement of the hangar doors as they shut, even if they couldn’t see it happen. A few moments after the doors shut, a hissing started, and the sound intensified.

“Um, what’s that hissing noise?” Fluttershy asked.

“That’d be the hangar re-pressurizing. There’s no air in space to conduct sound or breathe in, or to exert the pressure that our bodies evolved to, as you’d experience on your planet. So that hissing is breathable air-” Jason said before he was cut off.

“It’s breathable air being pumped in so that we can survive without sealed suits; got it.” Twilight finished the sentence for him.

“Do ponies have that tech, or is that knowledge just from pony sci-fi?” Jason asked, leaving the cockpit now that he no longer needed to fly the Pelican.

“We do have science fiction in Equestria, and a lot of the authors seem to have been dead on, considering the technology humans seem to use.”

“Huh.”

The hissing stopped. Ethan walked back into the cockpit to check if it was safe to exit.

“101.3 kilopascals, that’s sea level pressure, and a comfortable 25 degrees Celsius; it’s safe to exit.”

The rear hatch opened, and the passengers could see that there were several other Pelicans in the hangar, as well as maintenance crews entering to work on them. Then Mark, Jason and Ethan grabbed their helmets and exited, beckoning their guests to follow.

“All right, visitors and returning personnel through here.” An ensign in a Navy work uniform gestured to a door. The humans and ponies walked into a narrow corridor with a window to another room on one side. There were several people in there.

“Okay, just a decontamination and routine screening. Don’t want any microscopic hitchhikers coming aboard,” A voice said from the other side of the glass using the intercom.

There was a mist puffed into the air, and some visible flashes of light from the corners of the room, and the other end of the corridor opened.

“Mark, Jason, Ethan, report to the armory immediately. Take the ponies with you.” They recognized the voice as the ship’s AI, Emmerich.

“Alright, just follow us everypony. And be on your best behavior, it literally took me hours to convince my superiors to let you all on board.” Mark followed this statement with a gesture for them to move forward with him.

The ship’s halls were functional and gray. The numerous supports reminded the ponies of a construction site, but the abundance of glowing screens displaying information and the people moving through countered that impression. The ponies could feel the stares of the passer-bys on them.

After around four minutes of walking, the group reached an elevator.

“This’ll take us to the armory, then we can figure out what Emmerich wants,” Ethan said. He punched in the destination level, and the elevator began to move.

“Who’s Emmerich?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“He’s the ship’s artificial intelligence. He’s basically a computer that’s fully sentient, and bound by numerous levels of programming not to betray his masters; he’s not a slave by any means. What he does is coordinate and perform numerous functions by his integration into the ship’s systems. He does this faster and more efficiently than any human can.” Jason explained

“Huh?”

“He’s an artificial person, without a real body,” Mark clarified.

“Oh,” The ponies said together.

The elevator ride ended a few moments later. The passengers walked out, and they were addressed again by Emmerich.

“Alright, take the ponies into the waiting room, outside the observation room.”

The humans obeyed.

“Just stay here, we’ll be fine, and so will you,” Mark said with a smile. “We’ll be back.”

I hope so. It’s scary being in a place like this without anypony you know who can guide you. Twilight thought. The others had the same thought too, although they didn’t realize it.

***

The SPARTANs entered the armor room. The armor room was where the MJOLNIR Mk V (B) armor system, its add-ons and its components were stored and upgraded for the numerous SPARTAN-IIIs in the Eagle Sword battle group. They’d figured out what was going on when Emmerich told them to leave the ponies outside in the waiting room.
Mark, Jason and Ethan all stood on marked spots on the floor, and held their arms out. The marked areas sent a signal to the hydrostatic gel layer of their suits, causing it to solidify and immobilize them.

Technicians entered to begin removing their armor almost immediately. The process took about forty minutes. If the suits hadn’t locked in place, the subjects wouldn’t have been able to hold the T-pose for the entirety of the process.

When the procedure was finished, the soldiers were completely naked. They were brought briefs, digital woodland camouflage pants, socks, boots and brown T-shirts to wear. The men quickly put them on, being completely dressed in under a minute.

Emmerich’s holographic avatar appeared. He claimed he based it on a supporting character from a stealth-action video game from the late 20th and early 21st century, and his name was taken from the first name of the same character. He appeared as a slim Caucasian man, around his thirties, wearing round glasses and sporting messy hair.

“Well, your suits are beginning their upgrades as we speak,” Emmerich began, pushing up his “glasses”. “It’ll only take a few days to finish. In the meantime, Vice Admiral Hunt has given you some shore leave on Equis.”

“Shit, really?”

“How generous.”

“I guess I could use some time to wind down.”

“Also, I’m working on the data packet you retrieved during the raid, Jason. It’ll probably be decrypted around the same time as the armor upgrades are finished. I guess I’ll just call those your birthday presents.” Emmerich followed that with a sly grin, and opened the doors to the hall where the ponies were.

***

After about forty minutes of waiting, a few humans walked out of a door near where Mark, Jason and Ethan had gone in.

They were dressed in bluish-white smocks, and smelled like foul sanitizer.

A few minutes later, their human friends returned, wearing clothes instead of armor.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” Mark said through a grin.

“What took ya so long?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I can’t tell you that, you don’t have clearance. But we can give you that tour now.”

“Ooh! Yay!” Pinkie exclaimed.

The group returned to the elevator, where Mark punched in the command to go to the recreation deck. The ride was a quick one, only a minute. When it stopped, the doors opened and the group exited.

“All right, this is where the mess hall, gym, shooting range, theater, library, and observation deck are; I’ll take you to the observation deck first.”

The walk took about three minutes, during which time they passed a few dozen off-duty personnel. As it was before, the ponies got some odd stares, but no comments other than the occasional greeting from someone going the other way.

The doors to the observation deck opened, to reveal a large chamber, oddly devoid of any people. The windows were reinforced with Titanium-A lattice, but that didn’t impede vision much.

Through the windows, the ponies could see the stars even better than they could the night Mark had arrived. The stars didn’t twinkle at all, but nebulae could be seen perfectly, and the planet below was a beautiful blue sphere, painted with a verdant green brush.

The ponies were awed at the beauty before them. Now they knew that out there, near at least one of those visible stars, was life. Life they had never seen, in forms they could hardly imagine, in places they could not hope to picture. A life was making its own journey to find a friend, or love, or a purpose, or inspiration, or most likely to create new life.

“You travel among such beauty! Have you become desensitized to the wonder of the skies from traveling them, or are you still moved?” Rarity asked in a whisper.

Pinkie stared silently at the magnificent spectacle, her smile lighting the room. Fluttershy gazed into the sprinkled blackness, pictured the life among it. Rainbow Dash imagined the adventures that existed among them, the challenges and dangers unique to each world. Applejack thought of the families among the stars, and the bonds that they shared, which were themselves a bond with other species they weren’t aware of.

Twilight was silent and unblinking, trying in vain to imagine every single wonder that could potentially exist in the endless expanse. Every form of life, culture, science, philosophy; everything.

“During combat, this room is sealed off by multiple bulkheads, as to prevent any unnecessary casualties and prevent potential damage to other areas of the ship. You can visit this room any time you want, as long as you have an escort.

We’ve also got a library with data on all known planets linked to the terminals in this room, but you’ll be restricted to accessing only non-classified information. I’ll continue the tour when you’re all ready to go,” Mark explained.

It was another hour before they were ready to leave. The rest of the tour was uneventful. They were allowed to see most of the ship, and they behaved perfectly.

The ponies and their SPARTAN guides had just finished the tour when a disembodied voice spoke.

“Colonel Thompson,” The voice began, “Because of a backlogged flight schedule for the Pelicans, our guests aren’t going to be able to leave the ship for another thirteen hours.”

“Thanks Emmerich,” Mark said.

The Deliverance was in a geostationary orbit above Equestria, which was now three hours into the night. Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity, AJ, Dash and Fluttershy were all showing visible fatigue.

“We should probably get you some beds. Emmerich?”

“Colonel?”

“Are there any VIP rooms available for our guests?”

“Yeah, there’re four rooms available, with two beds in each.”

Mark took the guests to the appropriate deck. While in the elevator, they decided who would sleep in which rooms. Applejack and Rainbow Dash would bunk in one room, and Rarity and Fluttershy in another. Pinkie would get her own room, because they all agreed that she’d be a little too disruptive to any potential roommate sleep soundly. Pinkie didn’t take offense, she knew she was a snorer anyway. Twilight took the last room, so she could read without disturbing anypony.

Mark showed them all to their quarters, and showed them how to work the lights, bathrooms and such. Ethan and Jason headed to their bunks a few hundred meters away. Mark was too when Twilight asked him for a favor.

“Mark, could you show me how to access the library from here?”

“Sure.” He showed her how to use the datapad on the desk next to her bed.

“And could you stay here? I’m kind of afraid of sleeping alone.”

“Are you hitting on me?”

Twilight blushed quite visibly. “No, I’ve just always had some kind of company at night, whether it was my Smarty-Pants doll as a filly or Spike as a teenager or adult. I’m just afraid to sleep alone, it gives me nightmares, and then I have nopony to talk to about them.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “Emmerich, please try to prevent any gossip about this.”

“You got it Mark. My lips are sealed, and I’ll stop any scuttlebutt I hear.” The AI replied.

“Thanks.”

Well, he is good-looking as far as humans seem to go, and nice too, but I don’t like him that much. Twilight thought.

Mark got undressed to his briefs, and crawled in bed. Twilight used with the device as Mark had showed her how to, and turned off the lights. She understood that she’d be able to read in the dark with it. And she did for another hour before going to sleep herself.

***

“Run! Run! Get outside!”

Mark could hear his dad yelling to him. His younger brother and sister were following him, and he was following his mom.

They were leaving their houses to get to an evacuation center. They all knew where it was, their dad had made sure they knew the way by heart after the UNSC first built the place.

“Come on!”

Mark held onto his younger siblings hands, and pulled them forwards as they cried. Mandy was holding onto her favorite doll, and Eric to his teddy bear.

The whole city was deafeningly loud; people were screaming and dirt was flying everywhere. Mark could see Banshees in the skies, firing plasma and fuel rods everywhere. Including at his parents.

In a green flash of heat, Mark, Mandy and Eric saw their parents partially vaporized. Chunks of them hit Mark and his remaining family. They kept running, trying to ignore how tired their legs were. Mandy just stopped for a moment, but it was long enough for a bolt of green plasma to hit her in the upper back.

“Mandy!” Eric shouted, running back for his sister. He got to her, and started shaking her, foolishly trying to wake her up.

“No, Eric, c’mon!”

A plasma grenade hit Eric’s face, burning itself into the three year-old’s skin, and he started to run towards Mark, screaming like an animal. Mark ran faster, and looked over his shoulder as his little brother disappeared forever in a blue cloud. Mark just kept running.

He kept running until he was sure his legs would fall off. He made it to within fifty meters of the evacuation center when he collapsed. A brave UNSC Army corporal ran out to get him, and carried him into the building. The corporal got him to a ship in time, and Mark crawled onto a chair in the cold and empty bay.

“Hey, where’s your parents?” A stranger asked.

Mark just cried.

Plasma tore the ship apart, and Mark fell out of the sky.

***

“Ahhhhhhh!” Mark screamed as he woke. He was sweating like crazy, his sheets soaking wet. He got out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. There he emptied his bladder and splashed cold water on his face, as if it would cool the plasma that had filled his nightmare.

Mark didn’t dream very much, but when he did it was often the same nightmare. He relived his escape from the Covenant invasion of Biko over and over again. The only difference from the real escape was that he always died in the end of the nightmare, something he sometimes wished was the real ending.

The only thing about nightmares Mark could be thankful for is that plenty of other UNSC personnel went through the same thing, so while it may have woken some of the sleeping members of the crew, it didn’t really bother them.

“Mark? I heard you yelling in your sleep.” Twilight had gotten out of her bed to see what was wrong.

“I’m sorry Twilight, just a nightmare. It doesn’t happen often.”

“What was it about?”

“Just… Monsters. Monsters chasing me.”

“But, you fight monsters.”

“It’s always the same damn dream. It’s the only damn dream.”

“What?”

The hell with it, why not? It’s not like it’d hurt anyone, it’s not classified information, just a war story.

“It’s probably a Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder induced nightmare; I don’t always dream, but when I do, it’s always that one nightmare.”

Mark told her about it; every single detail about the nightmare. He had never bothered to see a shrink, but he figured just talking about it would help. It helped a little bit.

Mark went back to sleep after that, but Twilight didn’t. She was disturbed by what she heard. She stayed up for several hours researching the Human-Covenant War.

I think he needs… Something. I don’t know what, but he sounds like he’s empty inside. No family, frequent nightmares, nothing but war, that’s a wretched existence.

Several hours later, Mark, Jason, Ethan and the ponies all boarded a Pelican to return to Ponyville. It was time to enjoy some shore leave.

Down Time

For the return trip, an anonymous UNSC pilot flew the Pelican back to Ponyville. It landed in front of Twilight Sparkle’s house, like it had a little less than a day earlier. Twilight wrote a letter to Princess Celestia about what she learned on the ship, and what Mark had gone through. She thought Celestia would need to know the behavior and modus operandi of the aliens who’d attacked them. She didn’t realize Mark had wanted what he said to be kept between them.

Knife team split up, deciding to just do whatever they felt like. Shore leave was something unheard of for SPARTANs, so they decided to enjoy it. It might be the only time they’d ever be able to roam freely among civilians like this.

“I’ll just, I dunno, find someplace to hang out I guess. Probably get something to eat,” Ethan said. Off-duty or not, he still felt he should inform Mark.

“I’ll go hang with Fluttershy, she can probably show me around town. She seems like she’s nice enough she wouldn’t mind giving a tour,” Jason stated.

“Um, all right. I’ll go to the library, read up on pony civilization. Might help some missions later on… See ya.” Mark didn’t really know what to do with his free time, nor did he realize the library was Twilight Sparkle’s house.

Mark wandered around for a bit, before he asked for directions to the library. When he realized he had landed in front of it, he slapped his forehead.

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Me.”

"'Me' who?"

"Methinks I be terrible at knock-knock jokes."

Twilight needed more to go on than something that, so she went to open the door. She was surprised to see Mark, but she gave him a smile anyway.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Well, I figured I’d stop by and read. Nothin’ more than that, really.”

“Come on in then.”

Mark had to hunch over to fit in the door. Being a seven foot tall supersoldier didn’t lend itself to doors designed for ponies averaging four and a half feet.

The inside of the house was nice, a few rooms, an elevated bedroom, and a whole library’s worth of books mounted in shelves that melded with the circular walls.

“Remember those books I asked for when we met?”

“Mmm-hmm. I still have them stacked, actually. They’re in the other room.” She gestured to another door, a few meters to Mark’s left.

He opened it, and entered the room. It was a simple circular chamber, with the stack of books Twilight had mentioned set near the center.

“Hey, do you have something I can sit on?”

“Yeah, there’s a large beanbag chair in the closet.”

“Thanks Twi. Can I call you that?”

She giggled a bit, though Mark wasn’t sure why. “Sure.”

Mark sat down, and began with a world atlas. It was highly detailed, listing geopolitical boundaries, populations, and various statistics. Disputed areas were also indicated as such. Mark kept the atlas open as he quickly moved to a history textbook.

Equis’ history mirrored Earth’s to a remarkable extent. From ancient times, to mythology, to modern times, which contained technology from across the human 20th and early 21st centuries, in addition to closely mimicking that period of human history. Equestria seemed to be an odd combination of the old United States of America and United Kingdom, with cities and regions named to match. As such, it seemed that Equestria was a superpower, one of the two strongest nations on Equis.

Mark learned of a Cold War pitting Equestria and her NETO allies against the Socialist Republic of Unikraine. It seemed that firearms, tanks, jets and nukes were not in fact strangers to Equis. Mark tried to determine why this wasn’t revealed to the humans, and why these things were absent from Canterlot and Ponyville.

Well, I suppose that the docile nature of the ponies I’ve encountered doesn’t lend them to combat, so keeping them separated from the more modern parts of Equestria seems to have created a somewhat utopian pocket of tranquility and mild obliviousness here.

As for us not being told these things, I suppose it was more not telling me or my friends. Equestria is obviously familiar with deterrence theory, so they must’ve told the diplomats and higher-ranking officers to make sure we don’t try to screw them.

Mark produced a chatter from his pants, and contacted the Deliverance’s AI to confirm his hunch.

“Hey, Emmerich?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know about the 20th and 21st century tech present on Equis, including matching military tech?”

“Yes, it was brought up at the diplomatic reception. In fact, the tech is largely identical to what was used during the corresponding time period on Earth. The Equisians in general, ponies as well as griffons and donkeys, seem to be able to use a lot of their tools without the need for thumbs. I honestly can’t figure it out. My best guess would be self-replicating nanomachines or some kind of symbiotic bacteria that are passed through each generation unbeknownst to the planet at large. Those might create unique fields that allow them to perform such feats. Given that we don’t entirely understand how the trigger mechanisms on Covenant weapons function, I think I can say that for now these phenomena are beyond our comprehension.”

“Makes sense. Do their firearms and vehicles directly correspond to the ones humanity used to use?”

“Oddly enough, yes. Some weapons and vehicles are absent entirely, such as the old M1 Abrams, F-22 Raptor, XM8, and the Mk. 23 SOCOM pistol. But mostly, you’ve got human tech only slightly altered to be used by ponies. And some projects that were cancelled seem to have gone through. For instance, the Royal Equestrian Air Force uses the YF-23 as the F-23 Black Widow II, and that was the sole participant in the REAF’s Advanced Tactical Fighter program. On Earth, it competed with the YF-22 Lighting II, which won and became the F-22 Raptor.”

"Wouldn't the existence of pegasi remove the need for aircraft?"

"Yeah, but that'd leave earth ponies and unicorns still flightless, and it'd be best to maximize the amount of soldiers that could be inserted into an area. Not to mention that pegasi can only carry so much ordnance compared to a combat aircraft."

"Huh, that makes sense. I guess some local combat support couldn’t hurt if the Covenant attack again.”

“Agreed. Also, there's some weapons and tech that the ponies developed themselves, or at least that there's no equivalent in our history."

“Good to know. We’ll talk more later.”

“Colonel.”

Well, this is a strange turn of events. Still, I doubt that Equis could fight any Covenant remnants on its own, even if it spontaneously formed a single world government and military body. Their tech level is Tier 5, still the Atomic Age. Ours is Tier 3 and it was a goddamn miracle we beat the Covenant. And how the hell do they have direct copies of old human tech?

Twilight knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Hi."

"Hey, what's up?"

"I've just been wondering something."

"Go ahead."

“Do you mind me asking if this studying is for work or out of personal interest?” Twilight queried. She had a sheepish look on her face, and was clearly worried about offending him. Whether it was out of fear of physical harm, emotional empathy or both, Mark didn’t know.

“Both, I suppose. I don’t get much free time, but the time I do get I usually spend on intellectual pursuits that’d benefit my occupation. I guess I’m addicted to my work.”

That sounds like me a couple years ago; focused on my studies, to the exclusion of almost all else. Twilight was captivated by the parallel. Maybe I could help fix that!

Mark saw a smile form on Twilight’s face, and realized immediately she was planning something.

“Would you like to go to Sugarcube Corner with me?”

Mark considered this for a moment.

Well, on one hand I guess I could use something to do with my shore leave, and it’d probably help the locals’ opinion of humanity if I behaved decently. On the other hand, I could accidentally offend them, although given their culture and generally docile natures, this could probably be quickly remedied, and I’d have the excuse of not knowing their customs to control any damage. Okay, so the benefits seem to outweigh the risks.

“Sure, but I doubt they accept human currency; it’s not self-backing.”

“I’ll pay, don’t worry.”

“Can I come with?” Spike asked, revealing himself to have been in another room.

“I don’t see why not,” Twilight responded, smiling.

The trio exited the library, and walked towards Sugarcube Corner. Mark didn’t know his way around town, so he elected to stay behind them. He also thought it might convey an aura of humbleness, something that would also benefit relations with the locals. Mark also considered that he was just overthinking things.

“So, Mark,” Twilight began.

“Yeah Twi?”

“Who were you talking to in that room, and what were you talking about?”

“I was using my chatter to talk to Emmerich, the AI on the ship you visited. And we were talking about the technological and historical similarities between Earth and yours.”

“Earth? Is that where humans are from?” Twilight looked as if she were trying to remember something.

Oh shit! Okay, it’s fine, even the Covies knew the name of Earth. As long as I don’t tell them where it is, it’ll be fine. I haven’t violated the Cole Protocol by naming it.

“Yes. Sorry if I haven’t revealed the name except by accident. I’m a little… A little paranoid, when it comes to protecting my species.”

“Hmmm…”

“Something wrong?”

“Not really. It’s just I could’ve sworn I’d heard of that planet before, but I don’t know where. I mean, we obviously already have the word in our vocabulary, but it's usually only used to describe the ground or earth ponies. I think it was in a book full of ludicrous conspiracy theories, but I might be wrong. Oh! We’re here!”

In front of them was a giant gingerbread house, decorated with what appeared to be frosting and gumdrops. It looked like a real gingerbread house, though Mark didn't want to test the edibility of the structure. The three of them walked in and took a seat on the cushions provided, although Mark had to move around a bit to find a spot comfortable for him. A blue earth pony mare with a pink mane came to greet them.

“Hello Twilight, hello Spike!” The mare spotted Mark. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Cake, welcome to Sugarcube Corner, what's your name?” The mare looked at Mark, obviously introducing herself for his benefit.

“Colonel Mark Thompson, but just call me ‘Mark’. Pleasure to meet you,” Mark replied with a smile. “Do you have a menu I could use, I’d like to see what’s available.”

“Not a problem, I’ll get one right now.” She returned a moment later with a sky blue sheet of laminated paper, and a glass of water. “Anything else, Mark?”

“No, thank you.”

Mrs. Cake walked away, and Mark heard an oven open in the kitchen.

“So, what do humans eat?” Spike asked.

“We’re omnivores, so we eat meat, fruits, vegetables, nuts, starches, etcetera.”

“Oh, so are dragons! Do you eat gems too?”

“Nnnno..." Mark paused. "This planet must have a lot of precious minerals if you’ve got species that eat them."

I can see that mineral wealth being a significant strategic asset.

Mark looked at the menu. The descriptions of the items on the list were tantalizing, making his mouth water. After several minutes of silent consideration, he decided to order the Buster Brownie. It was two large scoops of vanilla ice cream, with a hot brownie, hot fudge, gooey marshmallow sauce, whipped cream, and a cherry on top.

When it arrived, Mark thanked the hostess, and Twilight paid for him. Mark tried to get as many of the different components as possible into his mouth at once, bombarding his tongue with a cascade of wonderful flavors.

While he ate, he noticed the stares some of the customers were giving him. Fascination, suspicion and fear among others. He understood their curiosity; he was an alien to them, nothing less than that could describe their feelings.

Well, looks like I am being an unofficial ambassador, just going around making impressions.

After finishing his ice cream, Mark checked his clothes. Nothing on his brown shirt, nothing on his camo pants, nothing on his boots.

Three bored looking fillies entered, an orange pegasus with a violet-red mane, a white unicorn with a lavender and pink mane, and a pale yellow earth pony with a red mane and a large bow. When they saw Mark their faces lit up with excitement, and they rushed to greet him.

“Hi!” They said together.

“Hey, what’s up?” Mark greeted.

“We wanted to meet an alien, but we couldn’t find any, so we came here to get ice cream,” the yellow one began, speaking with an adorable southern drawl. “But now we found one! So uh, we've been wonderin', do aliens have cutie marks?”

“What are those?”

“I think that’s a ‘no’.” The pegasus whispered.

“Y’know, the mark ya get on your flank that magically appears when ya discover your special talent?”

“Oh, that’s what those are. No, humans don’t have them, and none of the multiple alien species I’ve met seemed to have them, although most of them wear clothes.”

Armor, more like. Mark thought to himself.

“Oh, okay,” The unicorn filly replied, disappointed. “Um, also, how come you have those boring colors on, and those dirty-looking pants?”

“Well, I’m in the military, and these clothes are the closest thing we have on my ship to civilian clothes. Normal humans wear more colorful clothes and have myriad fashions, but it’ll probably be a little while before human civilians start arriving. As for these pants, they’re camouflage, part of a normal military uniform for forest and grassland areas. This t-shirt is just worn under the matching top, which I don’t need since I’m off-duty, and I wear special armor when I’m on duty.”

“What’s cam-uh-flauj?” The southern-sounding one asked.

“Camouflage is a means of blending into the surrounding environment by mimicking colors and shapes, breaking up the visual outline of the wearer, and using dull colors to avoid attracting attention. Basically, it’s to make the user harder to see.”

“Hey, that gives me an idea,” The pegasus said, grinning slyly.

The trio huddled together, whispered, and left without ordering.

As they left, Mark noticed they didn’t have “cutie marks” of their own.

“You handled that well,” Twilight said.

“First time in my life I’ve been called an ‘alien’,” He noted.

“Speaking of cutie marks, what does the name ‘Mark’ mean? I mean, human names do have meanings right?” Spike inquired.

“Well, it means ‘consecrated to Mars’, and Mars was the ancient Roman god of war; I suppose that's a fitting name given my occupation." Mark laughed at that. "It was also the name of one of Jesus’ twelve disciples; in the Holy Bible he told part of the story of Jesus Christ, from the point where Jesus was baptized to his death and resurrection. That’s the Mark most people name their children after when they use that name. A lot of human names have religious connotations to them, actually.”

“What’s your favorite book? Fiction, I mean,” Twilight inquired.

“Don’t have one. I haven’t read any fiction since I was a kid. Back then it was ‘Oh the Places You’ll Go!’ by Dr. Seuss. I’ve only read textbooks and encyclopedias since then. Occasionally I read the Bible, but not as much as I used to; it just doesn’t comfort me much anymore. When I read, I mostly read to absorb information. I still enjoy it, but only in the sense that one enjoys learning.”

“What else do you enjoy, then?”

“My job I guess, my friends, food, and… I can’t think of anything else. My job is pretty much all I have, and my friends… Well, I’ve seen most of them die, and all I‘ve got left is Jason and Ethan. Still, my friends live and we’re all willing to die for each other, because that’s how we are. As for food, well, I don’t get good food very often, mostly just decent-tasting rations. A hot meal that isn't military rations is a treat for me.”

“That really stinks,” Spike said sympathetically. He couldn’t imagine living like that. Neither could Twilight. Two friends and a moderately enjoyable job wasn’t much to live for.

“Yeah, it does. But what I do matters. It’s extremely dangerous, challenging, important, and stressful work; I wouldn’t put the burden on anybody or anypony else. Most humans live happily, comfortably, and in relative safety; I’m one of the exceptions to that rule. I’m proud that I help enable the rest of humanity to enjoy the comforts they have.”

Mark could hear chanting coming from outside and went to investigate, coming from opposite directions. He exited to find protestors and counter-protestors marching towards each other. From the east came a group of ponies, with a few mules and donkeys mixed in.

“One! Two! Three! Four! We don’t want their fucking war!” They all chanted in unison.

This group noticed Mark, and began heading towards him, resentment in all of their eyes.

From the other direction came a group of similar composition, but opposite message. Among them was an earth pony and a unicorn marching next to each other, who caught Mark’s attention for some reason. The unicorn was turquoise, with a similarly colored mane with white streaks, and golden eyes. The earth pony was a cream color, with a navy blue and pink mane, and sky blue eyes.

“How many dead ponies? Nothing but zeroes! Who’s to thank? Human heroes!”

Well, this is new. I've seen protests before, but I can’t say I enjoy being the topic of one.

Mark attempted to leave, but both groups followed him wherever he went. He decided against returning to the library, since the protestors and counter-protestors were following him. A donkey wearing a toupee confronted him, his angry visage clearly indicating which side he was on.

“So, you have the nerve to bring your war to our planet, and you try to get away from us when we call you out? That’s some cowardly shit!” The donkey yelled at him, finishing by spitting on Mark’s shirt. That crossed a line for him, and he wanted to make clear it would not be violated without reprisal. Mark knew the UNSC was many things, some bad, some good, but nowhere on that list was the word "cowardly".

Mark chewed him out, making an effort to use no profanity in his rebuttal.

“Sir, we came to this planet looking for peaceful relations, and we had no reason to believe that remnants of a defeated alien hegemony that tried to exterminate our entire race for no reason other than they spontaneously decided their gods didn’t like us, would decide to come a-knocking when we tried to establish peaceful contact with an alien race.”

Mark grabbed the donkey by the ears, held him close to his face, and looked him dead in the eyes. The donkey scowled and leered back.

“So please oh please excuse me for killing every one of those scaly abominations that was within sight when they tried to murder both your leaders and mine. I have suffered nearly every form of physical and psychological suffering a human can endure because of that repugnant collective of alien races, and that has been a constant experience since I was a boy of six, when they killed my whole family in front of me. You haven’t been on the receiving end of an alien genocide where the surfaces of entire planets were burnt to glass because your species lived on them, and I pray that you never experience or witness the horrors I have, and that not even a miniscule hamlet on Equis may ever know the tragedy that befell the entirety of dozens of worlds.”

With that finished, he released the ass, and walked off towards a relatively clear area in the town, one where a Falcon could pick him up. Nopony followed him.

***

Twilight saw the debacle, and was worried by the possibilty of escalation of the confrontation. She used her magic to listen in on the confrontation, and heard the entirety of Mark’s rebuttal. She saw him storm off immediately after, and march towards a fairly clear area, where he produced a device from one of his pockets, and spoke into it. He waited after that, until a human flying vehicle arrived to pick him up. He stepped into it, and took a seat that appeared to leave his legs dangling over the side.

It wasn’t the kind of aircraft Twilight and her friends had ridden in before; it was smaller, open on the sides, and had spinning blades on each side of the craft. It lifted off, the blades spinning faster as it gained altitude, and the nose tilting downwards slightly as it gained forward momentum. As it disappeared over the horizon, Twilight recognized the aircraft from her research; it was a UH-144 Falcon.

Revelations and Revolutionaries

Several days later, Knife team was back aboard the UNSC Deliverance, where they were getting what Emmerich called “early birthday presents”. Within one minute, their upgraded armor was fitted to them.

“Your armor is visually unchanged, as you can see. What you also likely noticed is how quickly it was fitted. The first upgrade is a modular replacement system. This allows the armor to be put on in around a minute by a trained crew, or in three to five minutes by just the wearer. It also allows for faster internal and external modifications, which can now be made in the field in many cases.”

Knife team moved around in their suits, seeing if there were any differences in how it handled. There were none whatsoever; the armor felt like the same reliable suits they’d worn for years.

“The second upgrade is the direct integration of two armor abilities into each suit. Ethan, yours has a more energy-efficient armor lock and a holographic projector capable of creating multiple holograms at once that move realistically and even seem to fire tracers at the enemy, although they do no harm. Jason, yours has a stronger drop shield and performance enhancer module, so you'll be able to move even faster and jump even higher than before."

Emmerich put on a wry smile.

“Mark, yours is extra special; in addition to your active camouflage module and drop shield, you can shape and form energy and plasma from your left gauntlet. You can create an energy sword or a hexagonal shield similar to what Jackals use. It’s thought-linked like MJOLNIR armor has always been for regular motion, so it’s simple to use, albeit more visible than regular cover or a knife. Activating the sword limits your wrist motion, so you don’t have to worry about mutilating your hand. Lastly, it’s linked directly to your suit’s power source, so it won’t run out of power for it.”

Several test dummies emerged from the floor, durable ones that had been used for hand-to-hand practice by armored SPARTANs. They showed evidence of frequent use, being covered with scratches and contusions.

Mark moved his left arm to face diagonally downwards and in front of him, and ignited the energy sword by focusing on it, the same thought-link function that moved his armor activating. The blade glowed blue-white, electricity arcing between the two prongs. Mark practiced swinging it; he had experience using energy swords, but having one integrated into his suit meant he’d have to learn to use it without wrist motion. That meant no flicking his wrist to eke out a win in swordfights against Elites.

Mark tested the sword on a pair of test dummies, thrusting the blade into ones chest and pulling it upwards through its shoulder. The next one he methodically dismembered, amputating each limb before making thrusts at where the vital regions would be.

Next he tried out a shield, activating it with his mind. It was blue, similar in size to a Jackal’s shield, but with a more geometric shape. It acted as a solid object, so it would cause no damage from simply touching it, but being "solid", it could be used as a weapon if it struck something with enough force.

“The shield is stress-already tested, it won’t malfunction or die in the middle of combat. Do you want me to have some turrets fire a few rounds at you?”

“Yeah, I wanna see how much it’ll kick when it gets hit.”

Two auto-turrets emerged from the floor plating, and took aim. Mark readied his shield, and crouched. He gave a nod, and the turrets began to fire at him.

The bullets glanced off his shield, barely moving Mark’s arm a millimeter. If the versions Jackal’s used kept them from flinching when they were shot, his armor and vastly superior strength would outdo any compensation mechanism built into their gauntlets. He let it go on for a bit longer before he signaled for Emmerich to cease fire.

Mark finished by bludgeoning two more test dummies with the shield, a purpose in which the device performed as expected; fairly well.

“All right. Now, you said you’d decrypted the data?” Mark asked the AI, deactivating the shield.

“Yes, I’ve already briefed Admiral Hunt on it, as well as the captains of all the fleet’s ships.”

“Sounds bad already,” Ethan commented.

“It is. The Covenant remnants that attacked Canterlot were more than just raiders out for blood. They came from a fleet of thirteen ships that’s hiding in-atmosphere, less than two kilometers above the surface of Equis’ magnetic north pole. The forces there are strong enough that we couldn't detect them until now. Composition is one CAS-class assault carrier, three CCS-class battlecruisers, four CRS-class light cruisers, two CPV-class heavy destroyers and three SDV-class heavy corvettes.”

“Fuck! They could’ve wiped out half of Eagle Sword already if they wanted to!” Ethan exclaimed.

“The reason they didn’t is likely a shift in strategy; they can’t afford to lose ships anymore. The Covenant doesn’t have the endless resources and manpower they used to. In fact, that is the reason they targeted Equis. The fleet had been passively observing for a over a month, and decided to strike at the leadership of what they determined to be the strongest nation on the planet, believing that by toppling them, they could cause the rest of Equis to capitulate. They intend to integrate the planet’s inhabitants into a renewed Covenant, and use its plentiful natural resources to facilitate the construction of a new fleet,” Emmerich explained.

“Let me guess, by becoming the most powerful faction of Covenant remnants, they expect to attract smaller groups, further solidifying their power, allowing them to become the center of a resurgent Covenant?” Jason inquired.

“Pretty much,” Emmerich responded. “UNSC High Command has already been notified, but they can’t spare more than a few ships. We’re stretched thin as it is, with all of the cleanup ops already going on. We’re on our own here. Admiral Hunt is already planning ways to destroy the fleet with minimal casualties. He’s considering an ‘OPERATION: UPPERCUT’ style solution among others, but the problem with that would be getting a Shaw-Fujikawa drive into the right position, and getting their ships close enough to deal a crippling blow to most of their fleet.”

“Lastly, we’ve located an encampment used by Covenant forces south of Ponyville, in the Everfree Forest. The Admiral wants you take them out.”

***

“Princess, we’re taking care of it,” A UNSC officer explained.

“You discovered a Covenant encampment just miles from Ponyville and respond without my authorization, and you didn’t even tell me?” Celestia demanded.

“We only discovered the camp two hours ago, and sent a team to eliminate it an hour ago. We were attempting to gain an audience with you so that we could inform you. If it helps, we have gained authorization for you, your student and her five friends to view our operations in real-time through our command center at Cavalia Joint Service Base. This applies to future ops as well.”

“Twilight and her friends are in Ponyville, I hardly think they’d make it in time to see anything. I’ll go to your command center. Perhaps in the future they can join us. I’ll bring my sister.”

***

Mark was riding on a UH-144 Falcon helicopter, en route to the designated landing zone. The craft’s compact design allowed it to enter places the larger Pelican could not, which gave it greater flexibility for operations in dense areas like forests and cities. It also allowed for an overall lower profile, making it stealthier and generally superior for special operations originating from bases on land.

In this case, all of these traits made it ideal for this operation. Knife team was being deployed to eliminate a Covenant camp in the Everfree Forest, several klicks south of Ponyville.

The moon was out that night, bright, although not so much as the sun; fitting for the deceptive tranquility of the night. Below them, trees and foliage skimmed by, the Falcon low enough that the gunners' boots almost touched the leaves below them.

“All right, we get in, plant bombs in the major structures, and get the hell out. Of course, it probably won’t be that simple; nothing ever is. Expect heavy resistance, maybe even a few Wraiths,” Mark said.

“Ha! Well, good thing I brought my friend ‘Spanker’!” Ethan replied, referring to the M41rocket launcher he typically carried in addition to his AR.

“Hey, at least Wraiths can hit their target from more than a hundred meters. That’s more than you can say buddy!” Jason chimed in.

“That’s your job man, I just get into medium or close range, and wreck shit!”

“Hey, keep the competition down to kill counts, all right you guys? I don’t wanna hear any crying after one of you hurts the other’s feelings. Got it?” Mark retorted to both of them.

“Got it boss. Yo Jason, whoever gets the most kills gets to drive the vehicle!”

“All right then, I’m in!” Mark said, smiling under his helmet.

“All right, this is the LZ, sirs.” The pilot said. “Looks like you’re gonna have to jump, I can’t get any lower.”

“Thanks, lieutenant. We’ll make do. All right, this is our stop people. Jump out on my mark. Three, two, one, go!”

Knife team jumped for it, falling a mere eight meters to the ground, the trees slowing their descent enough to prevent anything more than quiet grunts when they hit the dirt. Knife team shouldered their weapons, activated their night vision, and headed towards the objective.

About thirty seconds after touchdown, Ethan, who was on point, signaled for them to stop; he made a fist and held it up at head level. He then gestured for them to move up slowly.

“Check it, green blood trail. Ever seen something like this?” Ethan whispered, running his finger through the fluid.

Their helmets prevented any sound from escaping; their comms were untraceable and impossible to tap, only those with proper codecs could hear what they were saying. They knew this, but they whispered anyway.

“No. Surgeon, take samples; might as well get some for the lab rats. Flash cloning might work just as good on these aliens. Besides, maybe somepony could figure out what it is for us after it’s cloned.” Mark whispered back. He used the word “somepony” on purpose, indicating that he believed one of the locals could possibly identify it, and the others caught that too.

Jason did as Mark said, and gave the samples to Mark to carry. He put them in the hard-case built into his thigh armor. That would protect the samples during combat better than Jason’s pouches. Following that, they moved on towards the objective.

The forest was surprisingly dense, approaching jungle-like concentration of flora; known information however, indicated that it was not a rainforest. The plants impeded Knife team’s progress only slightly, and they barely made a sound, certainly none audible above the ambient noise level.

Around three minutes later, they came within sight of the camp, and halted.

***

From the command center at Cavalia JSB, Princess Celestia and her sister Princess Luna could see and hear what Mark, Jason and Ethan did. She was intrigued by the behavior Knife team exhibited. She hadn’t even been aware of their group’s moniker before now, and suddenly she realized how familiar they were to danger; they displayed no perceptible fear as they proceeded through the forest she knew was unknown to them, only caution. She had also listened to their banter before the mission, and during the operation; their sudden transition from competitive banter to quiet professionalism astounded her.

When they landed, she noticed their vision become illuminated and green-tinted.

"Why did everything just turn green?" Celestia asked.

“They activated their armor’s night vision function. It illuminates the surrounding area for the user without revealing their position like a flashlight would, and it isn’t limited in range like one either. If some random pony walked by, things wouldn’t appear any different to them, it’s all an effect of the camera amplifying ambient light,” A human technician answered.

So they can see in the night as if it were day. I daresay they’ve got the upper hoof then, even against a whole camp of hostile aliens.

Luna thought along similar lines, thinking that if Knife team operated under cover of night so often, perhaps they had a unique appreciation for it.

They saw the team come to the clearing.

“Knife Actual, this is Raptor, targets in sight. I count four structures; a comms building, barracks, warehouse and vehicle depot.”

Celestia was fascinated by the smooth, rounded architecture the Covenant used as opposed to the angular and functional design used by her UNSC allies. The iridescent blue and purple hues used on their buildings and vehicles struck her as another contrast to the dull and discreet colors of the human military.

***

Knife team assessed the situation before them, always wanting to maintain peak efficiency during an op. “Proper planning prevents poor performance,” SCPO Mendez, one of the SPARTAN-IIIs instructors, had taught them.

Behind the depot, and out of sight of the rest of the camp, were a half-dozen sleeping Grunts, their methane tanks vertically oriented and swaying ever so slightly as their lungs filled themselves with air. Grunts had a tendency to sleep on the job, and no amount of deaths inflicted by the enemy deterred them from doing so.

Just next to Grunts was a plasma battery, likely intended to recharge the vehicles inside. It was large enough that if it were destroyed, it would blow the depot sky high. Fortunately for them, only Ethan’s rocket launcher and the team’s explosive charges had enough power to blow it; they wouldn’t have to worry about stray bullets or plasma bolts causing an explosion that could kill them all.

The door to the communications building was guarded by a pair of minor Elites, their blue armor matching the needle rifles they wielded. A Jackal sniper team stood on the roof, providing overwatch. In all likelihood there were more enemies inside the structure, and likely higher-ranking than those outside.

The barracks were likely to be filled with hostiles, so if possible, the team would plant a bomb outside it and detonate it first. Failing that, they would try to lure as many back inside as possible, probably with Ethan’s upgraded holographic decoys.

The warehouse was unguarded, and more than likely empty. However, the team didn't take any chances, and assumed it was populated by guards and clerks on the inside. Rule number three, Mark thought, never let your guard down in the field.

“Surgeon, you hold back, provide overwatch; give us a heads-up on any activity you notice that we can’t see. Maverick, stay low, take out those sleepers behind the depot. Plant a charge near the battery, out of sight. I’ll take the warehouse and plant a charge there. After that, you use your decoys to create a distraction, and I’ll plant another charge inside the comms building. Draw the barracks’ inhabitants out and I’ll plant a charge there. That should eliminate most of the residents, at which point we assault the comms building and kill everyone in it; from there we search for any intel or tech that might aid us, and after we find it, we get out and blow the place,” Mark quietly explained, “Any questions?”

“Yeah, one.” Ethan whispered, “Do bombs count towards our kill-score?”

That made Mark chuckle a bit. “No, seeing as there’s no way to accurately judge how many die from a given blast without a thorough and time-consuming check, they won’t count. Hold fire until you’ve been discovered or until I give the say so. Move out.”

With that, Ethan moved through the dense foliage towards the sleepers, circling around so he could approach them from out of sight of the rest of the camp. Mark activated his active camouflage device, and moved towards the warehouse.

Reaching a point where he could approach the sleeping Grunts, Ethan moved slowly and cautiously, careful not to make any sounds. The ambient noise level was already fairly high, loud enough that he didn’t have to worry, but he preferred to err on the safe side when sneaking.

He pulled his knife from its sheath, and one by one, he drove it into each of the methane-breathing aliens’ necks, their wheezing ending each time he did so. Killing all of them took twenty-two seconds, and after the deed was done, a layer of luminescent aqua ooze coated his blade. Ethan wiped it on a nearby bush, out of sight of any investigators, and moved the bodies out of the clearing and into the forest.

The plasma battery and the building were separated by about a meter, enough room for Ethan to squeeze in. He withdrew a small satchel of C-12 plastic explosive from his armor, and planted it on the battery, facing the vehicle depot to ensure maximum destructive efficiency.

At the same time, Mark had reached the door to the warehouse. The door was really just an opening, with nothing keeping out stray wildlife, or SPARTANs for that matter. His upgraded suit would allow him to silently run while fully cloaked for a grand total of thirty minutes. Thankfully, he wouldn’t need to cloak for that long.

Entering the building, Mark drew his combat knife. He knew he had an energy sword in his gauntlet, but that’d be much more conspicuous than he wished, however deadly it would be. Creeping in, he spotted two red blips on his motion tracker.

It was two Elites; a blue minor with a holstered plasma rifle and an orange major using an energy sword, who seemed to be berating his subordinate. The energy sword was pointed directly at the minor, which gave Mark an idea. He snuck up behind the major, and kicked him in the back, sending him flying forward and his sword into the minor’s chest in a flailing mass. The sword punctured the minor’s lungs, leaving him unable to scream as he quickly but painfully died. The sword quickly detected the lack of pressure on its hilt, and deactivated on its own.

The major began to roar, his mandibles expanded and his whole mouth revealed. Mark drove his knife through the roof of the Elite’s mouth, into the alien’s brain, killing him instantly. The entire ordeal had unfolded in exactly seven seconds, and the building filled with the stench of blood and burned flesh.

Mark planted a charge between a crate of fuel rods and a box of plasma grenades, but not before taking a few grenades for himself. The resulting explosion would be boosted by the secondary explosives, and likely drowned out by them. It was remotely possible that the entire base’s destruction could be made to seem like an accident.

“Depot charge planted.”

“Warehouse charge planted. Maverick, move to position outside the barracks and await my signal.”

“On it.”

“Surgeon here, we have a Wraith moving out of the depot, currently heading towards the barracks; advise you wait until it’s passed to begin diversion.”

“Copy Surgeon.”

They waited for three minutes. The Wraith idled outside the barracks, on the side facing towards the base’s center. It had no idea that a SPARTAN waited on the other side, and seemed to wait almost in spite of the enemies it was unaware of.

“Wraith isn’t moving. Maverick, you’ll have to draw the current tenants out.”

Ethan did as Mark told him. He threw an armed fragmentation grenade at the building, and when it exploded, the whole compound awoke.

Elites, Grunts and Jackals rushed out towards Ethan, who had deployed numerous decoys, all of whom appeared to be firing at the approaching mob. The real Ethan fired a rocket at a more tightly packed section of the group, killing twelve of them and reducing them to chunks, dispersed among the raining dirt. The returning fire was intense, and Ethan took cover behind a rock.

Mark snuck into the barracks during the chaos. It was completely empty, with not a single Covenant soldier present. Inside the building there were methane stations, made to fill up the Grunt’s tanks. Mark spotted them immediately, and placed a charge between a tightly-packed cluster of the devices; methane was a very combustible gas, and Mark knew this.

De-cloaked, and drew his grenade launcher as he headed out to flank the hostiles assaulting Ethan. His first shot landed between a lance of Grunts and shield-using Jackals in front of them. When it exploded, it killed eight of them. Mark slid another round into the launcher’s breech, and fired at a silver-armored Elite ultra. The round detonated on impact, removing the alien’s shield and killing a trio of Grunts behind him, all of whom were throwing plasma grenades.

The now armed explosives cooked off, exploding and killing the group. The real Ethan jumped out from behind cover killed two Jackals with his assault rifle now that he was no longer suppressed. Mark shot three Grunts in the head with his DMR, on round each, and then unloaded into an Elite major, taking down his shields before delivering a fatal punch to the officer’s throat.

Mark and Ethan approached the comms building. Ethan fired a rocket into the rear of the Wraith that’d been harassing them earlier, hitting the exposed exhaust vent and destroying it. He reloaded the launcher, putting a new cylinder into the assembly.

“Surgeon, weapons free!” Mark ordered. As he finished the sentence, Jason complied. Four shots rang out in as many seconds, getting as many headshots. The sentries outside the comms building dropped like sacks of bricks, their blood blending in with the outer shell of the structure.

“I got this, boss,” Ethan said. He planted a small shaped charge on the door, just big enough to blow the doors inwards and disorient anyone in the receiving room with the blast. Mark and Ethan took positions on the sides of the door, their weapons fully loaded, and their minds clear.

“Three, two, one, breaching!”

The charge detonated, sending the doors inwards. Mark and Ethan headed in, their senses sharp and ready to detect any danger. Lo and behold, it appeared.

A pair of Elite zealots charged at them, needlers and plasma rifles firing. Ethan dropped his assault rifle and attempted to engage the hulking creature in melee combat. They threw bone-shattering punches at each other, their shields flashing and the impacts echoing in the chamber.

Mark holstered his rifle and ignited his sword. The zealot did the same. The two locked eyes, or at least seemed to, given that Mark’s visor still had its solid blue polarization, preventing the Elite from actually seeing his eyes.

The zealot initiated the duel with a thrust, which Mark dodged and parried, using his own sword to push the crackling blade aside. He countered with a downward swipe, that the zealot dodged, which was followed by a swing upwards and to the left. That glanced the zealot’s shields, and made him flinch.

The other zealot threw Ethan back outside in a feat of strength astounding even for a seasoned Elite warrior. He drew his sword, and joined the duel. He began by sweeping low with his blade. Mark dodged by jumping on a nearby table, and the swipe he dodged left a scorch mark where his left foot had been.

The two zealots charged at him, and Mark threw a plasma grenade to disperse them. The explosion stunned them for a split second, which he used to close the distance with the newcomer and eviscerate him, driving his sword into the creature’s lower chest, and bringing it upwards, separating the Elite’s ribcage from his spine and finishing him.

Now it was just Mark and the one zealot. They struck and parried with their swords, sparks flying each time the energy blades met. They took down each other’s shields numerous times, only to have them recharge while they blocked and dodged.

Mark’s shields went down yet again, and he retreated to the other side of the room. He grabbed a small plasma battery and threw it at his attacker. The explosion took down the zealot’s shields, and the Elite charged at him again.

Mark had been knocked onto his back by the explosion, and as the massive alien attempted to deliver a finishing blow, Mark blocked him. Their blades locked, Mark realized that one of the prongs of his sword was inside the Elite’s, and made a move. He kicked the beast hard enough to stun him slightly, and ran the blade through the zealot’s hand.

The appendage was horribly damaged, and the zealot’s sword dropped, deactivating as it did so. The beast stood up, and roared in agonizing pain, clutching its hand. Mark roundhouse kicked to alien into the wall and stabbed him through the chest multiple times. Each thrust was accompanied by a sizzle as the intense heat from the blade boiled blood and popped blood vessels inside the victim.

After that, Mark deactivated his own sword. He ran outside to check on Ethan, his rifle drawn, and he found him and Jason fighting off a group of Covenant returning from patrol. Mark finished off a lance of grunts led by an Elite officer. The firing stopped, and a semblance of peace seeped over the team.

“Sorry Raptor, woulda helped you earlier, but these bastards came back from patrol. Judging from the size of the barracks, I’d say there’s way more than what we saw. We’d better blow the place and exfil,” Ethan explained.

“It’s fine.”

***
As a Princess, Celestia had never witnessed such violence first-hoof, nor even heard anything more than vague mentions of it. Seeing these humans who had just days before nobly protected her morph into killing machines was absolutely shocking.

This is what their job is? Ending lives with such nonchalance, killing enemies while they sleep, it’s monstrous! But I suppose that given the nature of this enemy, it’s all too necessary.

“Knife Actual, this is Raptor, requesting exfil,” Mark said over the radio. No pony or person detected stress of fatigue in his voice; he sounded as calm as before the battle.

“Raptor, we are dispatching a Pelican to your position. It’s loaded with ODSTs, they just finished their own op nearby. ETA five minutes, how copy?”

“Solid copy, Knife Actual. We’ll check for any intel and get prepped to leave. As soon as we’re at a safe distance, we’ll blow the place to Hell’s junkyard.”

***

Ethan planted the last charge inside the comms building. While the team was exploring the inside, Jason found something.
“Boss? I got something here, I think you’ll want to see it.”

Mark walked in, expecting to see a trove of data or something like that. What he saw instead was what looked like a black-colored hybrid of a small alicorn, a hymenopteran insect of some sort, and a chunk of Swiss cheese.

“No intel here, I think this outpost was compartmentalized information-wise.” Ethan strode in as he finished the sentence. “What the hell is that?”

Knife team heard talking in the background of the command center, and a female voice came on.

“This is Princess Celestia. That creature is called a changeling; it is a hive creature capable of infiltrating populated areas with ease by mimicking the inhabitants. A few weeks before you arrived, we’d just stopped a coup attempt by their queen, Chrysalis. They survive by leeching off of others’ emotions, most of all love. It makes them stronger as they do so. Ironically, the attempt was stopped by love.”

“Okay, do they have these holes in them naturally? And should we bring this one back to study?”

“Yes, they do. And no, the chance that it could be faking death is too high, leave it there.”

“Got it.”

The Pelican arrived moments later, with a dozen ODSTs inside. There were only ten seats, meaning Knife team would have to stand for the ride out, like two of the Helljumpers they were riding with. They jumped in, grabbed onto the handles on the bay’s ceiling, and the dropship began to lift off.

About thirty seconds later, the Pelican was a safe distance from the camp.

“Helljumpers,” Mark began, “I hope you like fireworks, ‘cause we’ve got a little show for you!” He produced a detonator. After massaging the button with his thumb for a few seconds, Mark pushed the big red button, and the whole compartment cheered.

Behind them, a massive group of blue and orange explosions turned the empty camp into a crater, scorched by conventional and plasma explosions.

***

Back at the command center, alarms went off. Personnel began to scramble, some headed to their posts, others to rally points to await orders.

“What’s going on?” Princess Celestia demanded.

“Why doth the trumpets blare so harshly?” Luna agreed.

“Incoming bogeys, lots of ‘em!” A radar technician yelled.

“What are these ‘bogeys’ thou speak'st of?”

“A radar or visual air contact whose identity is unknown. Computer counts several thousand small ones, around two meters in length. Several dozen larger ones too, signatures read as older model Pelicans and Falcons. Definitely not UNSC, though.”

"How did these forces gain access to your equipment?"

"Well, there are a bunch of ways. The most likely one is that they looted from UNSC stocks in the chaos of the various invasions, and bought a lot of it on the black market. Another possibility is that they're a PMC, in which case they might've been supplied by us back during the Insurrection."

“All units, report to combat stations immediately. We have detected a large airborne force headed towards the Canterlot area, both the castle and the city. They are not, repeat not friendly. Radar indicates some of them are using older model Pelicans and Falcons, check your IFFs before firing on aircraft,” the loudspeakers blared.

“We have to get back to Canterlot,” Celestia said.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. We don’t know what’s out there, and you’re safer in here.”

“I can’t just abandon my subjects!”

“And your subjects can’t afford to lose you. If at least some of the hostiles out there are using UNSC aircraft, then they’re likely using UNSC weaponry, too. You’ll be able to assess the situation from here, and you’ll be safer.”

***

“Oh, I’m so excited!” Pinkie squealed.

“I know, can ya believe Twilight’s brother invited us to his birthday? I mean, it’s so cool that his birthday is less than a month after his wedding! That means another awesome party!” Rainbow Dash agreed.

“I just wish this train would go faster, and that we didn’t have to get on it at one in the morning,” Spike complained.

“We’re only a few minutes from the station Spike, we just have to wait a little longer,” Twilight Sparkle said to him. She was so excited to see her brother, she hadn’t gotten to even talk to him at the diplomatic reception a week ago; she was able to hug him, but not much else. That meant that this was essentially the first time she’d get to see her Shining Armor since the wedding.

“Ummm, why is it getting dark all of a sudden?” Fluttershy asked.

Rarity walked to a window. “Well, we’re probably just going through a… Oh dear.”

Above them, a swarm of thousands of changelings blotted out the night sky, and the moon.

“Have you noticed that bad things happen whenever we go to Canterlot?” Spike asked, seeing the cloud of insectoids.

For the Swarm

“Change of plans people,” the Pelican’s co-pilot shouted. “We’re being sent to Canterlot. Shit’s going down there, and the brass at Cavalia JSB are scrambling everybody in the region to deal with whatever’s going on. All I know is that there’s thousands of bogeys, and a few dozen of ‘em are Pelicans and Falcons.”

“Thousands? Are they serious? ” An ODST groaned.

“Most of ‘em are small, around two meters. My guess is ECM,” The co-pilot responded.

“All right, ETA two minutes,” the pilot said in a distinct southern drawl.

“You heard him, Helljumpers! You have exactly two minutes to get prepped, and then we go back into the fire!” Mark shouted. “I’m linking my team’s network to yours, so you know our callsigns, and we know yours.”

The whole of the troop bay checked their weapons, made sure they were loaded, and made any final preparations.

“Well that don’t look like chaff to me,” the pilot said.

Above Canterlot was a shifting black cloud, which upon closer inspection appeared to be several thousand dark insectoid creatures.

“All right, we’re on the final approach.”

A crash rang out through the interior of the craft, accompanied by the sound of alarms. It sounded like it came from the upper-right intake, perhaps something impacting it.

“Right wing engines are down!” The co-pilot yelled.

“All right people, keep your shit tucked; we are going in hard!”

Seconds later, the dropship crashed onto the ground, knocking the standing occupants to the ground, and sending them sliding across the floor. The Pelican skidded on the ground for about fifty meters before coming to a halt.

Mark was knocked to the ground with his team and two ODSTs, one of which was on top of him. He pushed the trooper off, and checked to see how many were dead. By the grace of God, not a single person was incapacitated; the SPARTANs, ODSTs, and pilots were all mission-capable.

“All right, grab your guns n’ gear, we’re leaving the crash site as soon as we open this door,” Mark said. Everyone onboard obeyed, even the pilots, who grabbed M6G pistols and extra ammo. One of the ODSTs pushed a button to open the bay doors, but they hardly moved. With the standard method of opening them not working, the co-pilot pounded a big red button in the rear of the cockpit, which blew the door open with small explosive charges.

“Rule number fourteen,” Mark said. “Any crash you can walk away from is a good one.”

All seventeen of them piled out, surveying the crash site. The pilots were the last out. Bugs were all over the sky. They blotted out the moon, leaving the city poorly illuminated.

“According to a particularly reliable source, they’re called ‘changelings’,” Jason explained, “They can take the form of any creature of similar size and shape. That shape would be the general outline of most quadrupedal creatures, such as ponies.”

“Listen up people!” Mark shouted over the group’s radio. “We’re in the middle of an invasion of a civilian area. How many of you have experience with urban combat in populated areas?”

Everyone raised their hands, even the two pilots.

“All right then. Since these bugs can take the shape of ponies, we’re on weapons hold; fire only in self-defense or in response to a formal order. We’re gonna head towards the train station; there are probably civilians trying to use it to get out, or some confused civilians who used it to get in, before this fiasco or in ignorance of it. Let’s move.”

The pilots were near the rear of the group, seeing as they had the least armor; just brown ECH-252 helmets and brown M52B body armor, worn over a flat gray jumpsuit. Their whole outfits, helmets included, were vacuum-sealed, in order to allow operation at high altitudes or in space, although this wasn’t strange in the current group; the MJOLNIR armor Knife team wore was also sealed, as was the ODST body armor the Helljumpers wore.

If there had been toxins in the air, the combination of integral oxygen supplies, rebreathers, and filtration systems in each of the group’s suits would have allowed extended operation in such an environment. Thankfully, no such toxins were present, although the entire group retained their helmets for protection and situational awareness purposes.

***

When Twilight, Dash, Rarity, Pinkie, Fluttershy, AJ and Spike reached the train station, it was in a state of near-chaos. Uniformed human soldiers were tending to wounded ponies and patrolling the inside of the station. One of them walked up to the new arrivals and began questioning them.

“Ma’am’s, sir,” The soldier said, nodding her head at the ponies and then Spike. “This station is under lockdown, nopony leaves or enters. There’re bugs all over the place outside. Some of them could even be in here, maybe disguised, which is why there’s all this security.”

“Changelings?” Twilight asked.

“Yeah, that’s what they were called. Now, I’m going to have to ask you why you came here. It’s a routine thing right now, we’re trying to find and detain any potential charlies. Are you all here together, and do you have any luggage?”

“Yes. We came to see my brother, Shining Armor, for his birthday today. He’s the captain of the Royal Guard. Is he okay? And no, we didn’t bring luggage, except Rarity.” She gestured toward Rarity, to make sure she didn’t get Rarity mixed up with Spike, who stood adjacent to a large wheeled carry-on bag.

The soldier squinted a bit, and then spoke into her headset.

“We have a group of six possible charlies plus one potential collaborator, they claim to be in Canterlot to see the captain of the Royal Guard. Someone come get them and take them to a holding room.”

A pair of UNSC personnel appeared moments later, and escorted the ponies and Spike to an empty room near the front.

“Oh come on! Changelings wouldn’t even be able to turn into me, I’m a baby dragon!”

“Buddy,” one of the escorts began, “For all we know, you’re working with them. Now if we had absolutely concrete evidence that one of you was a changeling, we’d shoot the charlie. But we’ve settled on actually seeing one of them reveal themselves as being ‘concrete’ evidence, so unless you or your gal pals change in front of us, we’re only going to hold you.”

The escorts tossed them into a fairly empty room, with a few windows, albeit none big enough for any of them to fit through. The ponies could tell they were near the front of the station, and could make out the scene outside.

There were bodies. Piles of them that had been ripped apart, human and ponies tossed unceremoniously into heaps. The smell of death permeated the air, entering the holding cell.

Several guards stood outside, using the bodies of dead changelings to form barriers. Several human bodies lay on the ground, strewn across the area. These ones had armor similar to the humans guarding the station, but had dark red stripes on their helmets and armor; not enough to make them plainly obvious, just enough to differentiate them from the UNSC soldiers at a glance.

“I bet if Mark were here, he’d be able to get us out,” Twilight thought aloud.

***

“How do you even know where the station is?” an ODST asked Mark.

“Several Falcon rides over the area; it’s hard to miss a building like that with train tracks coming from it.”

The group had yet to fire a single shot, but they heard gunfire from every direction, some of it faint, some of it fairly close. They proceeded to pass a library when a cacophonous hiss rung out.

“Bugs!”

“Light ‘em up!”

Several dozen changelings swarmed out of the nearby buildings, and the soldiers opened fire. Even with all of the bugs coming at the group, collectively they still had superior firepower; 7.62x51mm armor piercing tracer rounds filled the air, depopulating the skies immediately above them.

Green mist filled the air as the bullets punctured wings and flesh and chitin. Hundreds of rounds were expended in that half-minute, and every attacker was dropped without a single member of the seventeen-strong team taking a scratch.

“Anybody else think that was pretty easy fo-”

The corporal who was speaking was cut off by a burst of assault rifle fire, interrupting his thought and ending his life as the bullets hit his neck.

“Blue-on-blue! Blue-on-blue!” Jason yelled.

“You wish!” Came a shout from the direction of the shots. More fire came from that vector.

“Return fire! Light that sucker up!” Mark shouted.

The now sixteen-strong group unleashed a volley of fire at the attackers, who continued their own firing. Two more ODSTs and both of the pilots were killed by the unidentified hostiles.

“Time for a spanking!” Ethan shouted, readying and firing his rocket launcher at the positions most of the fire seemed to be coming from. The 102mm HEAT rockets impacted their target areas, and the firing stopped.

“Shit, now we’re five men down,” Ethan said.

“Grab their ammo and equipment, and let’s figure out who these bastards were,” Mark ordered.

The survivors, now only a dozen remaining, scavenged ammunition from the corpses, and marked the dead men as KIA for future reference. Mark noticed that one of the troopers was crying and holding his dead teammate. He walked up to the trooped and gently placed his hand on the soldiers back.

“I, I loved him. We were gonna have a nice marriage on Luna,” the trooper said, clutching his dead boyfriend. Mark saw no need to report him to internal affairs for an affair with a squadmate, he was already suffering.

The UNSC’s only policies on romantic relations involved affairs between officers and subordinates, and between squadmates, on the grounds that they led to mental destabilization of the surviving lover and violated unit discipline. Gender played no role in it, and hadn’t since the early 21st century when soldiers were finally allowed by most countries to serve side-by-side regardless of sex or orientation.

Mark jogged over to the corpse of one of their unidentified attackers. He wore a sealed BDU with brown armor, similar to what the Air Force used, but the chestplate and helmet had dark red, vertical stripes on them, and the BDU had a digital, multi-terrain pattern on it; specifically the early 21st century Russian SURPAT camo. The chestplate also had his affiliation on it: Black Mamba PMC. The other bodies had the same markings and camo, and used UNSC equipment.

“Okay people,” Mark began, “We’re about half a klick west of the station. I’ve ID’d the human hostiles as operators for the Black Mamba PMC. They’ve got multi-terrain digital camo, UNSC armor and weaponry, and dark red vertical stripes on their chestplate and helmet. It’s possible they’re allied with the bugs we’ve been fighting, but I’ve got nothing to prove that. Shoot them on sight, they are now confirmed hostiles. Let’s move out!”

The team headed for the train station and reached it within minutes, killing a few dozen changelings along the way. The station was guarded when they got there, and the survivors faced an unfriendly welcoming committee.

“Stop or we’ll shoot!” A soldier with a sergeant’s chevrons said.

“Buddy,” Ethan responded “I’m a SPARTAN, and I’m on your side. Now you sit your five-credit ass down before I make change.”

“Prove it!”

“How do you expect me to do that?” Mark asked, pointing his rifle at the guards. “I’ve got the armor, and my IFF flashes green. If we wanted you dead, us three SPARTANs and our nine ODST buddies would’ve turned you into ketchup by now. Unless you decide you wanna be on my friend’s french fries,” He gestured at Ethan. “You better point that gun somewhere else.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.”

“It’s fine, I get that you’re jumpy, but if these Mamba guys come up as red on our IFFs, they do on yours too. You’ve got those for a reason, sergeant.”

Mark and his team walked into the station and holstered their weapons. Looking to his right, Mark saw a pair of ES infantry guarding the building from what looked like a ticket booth.

A lieutenant wearing what looked like an Air Force uniform, sans the helmet, strode up to him.

“Lieutenant Wong, sir,” the airman said with an Australian accent. He looked at Mark’s group, and then back to him. “They all you got?”

“We had three other Helljumpers and a pair of pilots, but those Mamba bastards took ‘em out. What’s the situation here?”

“We’ve been shelterin’ all the passengers of trains that arrived, and any civvies who made it here. So far, none of ‘em have turned out to be changelings, but any suspicious groups or individuals have been moved to makeshift holding cells. We don’t want any charlies roamin’ ‘round the place. We got this weird group a few hours ago, claimed to be here to see the captain of the Royal Guard. Six ponies and a baby dragon; we kept the dragon with ‘em, ‘cause even though we know he ain’t a charlie, he could still be workin’ with ‘em.”

That caught Mark’s attention. “Show me.”

“Right this way, colonel.” The LT walked off, and up a flight of stairs, and Mark followed.

“Knife team, gather any info, supplies and ammo you can. Helljumpers, I might need your help later, but if I do, It’ll be your choice whether you come with. I’ll call you when I want you,” Mark said as he followed the junior officer.

Ethan and Jason strolled off, and so did the Helljumpers.

After passing several “cells”, the lieutenant stopped.

“Here we are. You gonna go in?”

“Yeah.”

Mark opened the door, and was greeted by surprised faces.

“Okay, now I just wanna make sure you’re all the real you. On the count of three, I want all of you to say my name at once. One, two, three!”

“Mark!” They all shouted.

“Okay, how did we all meet? One, two, three!”

“When we were stargazing!”

“Okay, you’re obviously not impostors. Now, what’s going on?”

“Well, we came here for Twi’s brother’s birthday, but then all this happened. He and Princess Cadence are probably still in the castle,” AJ explained.

“Okay.” Mark activated his radio. “Knife actual, do you have a location on VIPs?”

“Affirmative, Princesses Celestia and Luna are still here at Cavalia Joint Service Base. Shining Armor and Princess Cadence are believed to be still in the castle. We’ve got troops inside the castle but they’re having trouble finding them.”

“‘Believed to be’ in the castle?”

“Sorry Raptor, but these Mamba PMCs are giving our troops hell. We couldn’t divert many to locate them.”

Mark sighed loudly. “Copy, Raptor out.”

“Do the people you were talking to know where my brother is?”

“Princesses Celestia and Luna are confirmed safe inside Cavalia’s command center. As for your brother, the people on base believe he and Princess Cadence are still in the castle, but they’re not sure. The castle is just their last known location. Cavalia JSB could only send a limited amount of troops to secure it; most of their soldiers are fighting off the PMCs and bugs around Canterlot. It’s the PMCs that’re giving us trouble.”

“What the hay are PMCs?” Rainbow Dash asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Private Military Contractors. They’re highly organized soldiers-for-hire; they have a command structure and everything. They’ve got fairly modern equipment and solid training.”

“Will Shine be okay?” Twilight asked.

Mark took off his helmet and frowned. “I honestly don’t know. By this point any number of things could’ve happened.” Mark looked genuinely sympathetic. “Most of them are bad.”

Twilight sat down and started to cry. Her sobs weren’t very loud, just about normal speaking volume. Tears streamed gently down her purple cheeks, and fell to the floor, each one leaving its own tiny puddle as Twilight’s bobbing head created deviations in each of their paths.

Seeing others cry over loved ones was nothing new to Mark, but this was the first time he’d seen a pony cry. Somehow, it was much sadder than the humans he’d seen mourn their lost. Perhaps it was the innocent appearance of Twilight that made it bother him so, or maybe he was fonder of her than he realized. The effect was the same either way.

Mark crouched down and raised Twilight’s head up. She sniffled a little, her nose runny from her crying. He looked her in the eyes.

“Hey, there’s something I need to tell you; it’s a little axiom I picked up on the job. ‘Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence’. Your brother and Cadence are in a state where we don’t know what condition they’re in; that leaves plenty of room for hope. I’ll find him, and I’ll bring help with me. He’s a VIP too, so that’ll help me get more help to find him.” He deliberately avoided using wording that’d give her false hope that her brother was actually alive. She didn’t notice; she clung onto the only flimsy raft of hope she could find in the sea of despair around her. “I’ll be back.”

“Th-thank you…”

“Lieutenant, advise your soldiers that these ponies and their baby dragon are to be allowed to roam free with the other civvies.”

“Sir!” The lieutenant saluted, and spoke into his own comms. He let the prisoners out, and apologized to them. “Really sorry ‘bout the misunderstandin'. Just tryin’ to make sure everypony’d be safe.”

The ponies all nodded and forgave him.

Mark walked out into the station, put his helmet back on, and summoned his team, ODSTs included. He elected to wait until they had all arrived before he briefed them. Then he would give the ODSTs a choice as to whether or not they wanted to help him. He’s go with or without their help.

God damn it! I just broke rule number two! “Never let your emotions interfere with an operation”. Idiot! If these people die, it’s because I didn’t tell them that I was doing this to make somepony I barely know feel better. Dammit, why did she get to me?

Mark tried to rationalize his decision.

The positive effects of this op could outweigh the potential loss of life. Blood is the strongest bond there is, so if they die, they die for an interspecies peace. Hopefully the op will be a flawless victory, but that’s unlikely.

“Knife actual, this is Raptor; request permission to attempt a recon of the castle, try to locate the missing VIPs and infantry. How copy?”

“Solid copy, Raptor. Permission granted. Any reason you’re volunteering for this op?”

“I think it’d have a positive effect on relations between the UNSC and Equis. Additionally, securing the castle is going to be tough, so I believe that a team of SPARTANs, and possibly ODSTs would be the right fit. If the ODSTs that survived volunteer, then I’ll bring them. If not, I’ll take my team alone.”

“Understood. Be advised we will not be able to monitor your situation or comms unless you contact us directly. There’s too much going on down here to babysit one squad. Ask and you shall receive, but there won’t be any spontaneous gifts. Knife actual out.”

The team reported; Ethan, Jason, and the ODSTs all arrived within a minute.

“Gentlemen, there are a pair of VIPs in who are trapped in the Canterlot castle. Now, there was already a team of infantry sent in, but they haven’t come back out. We are going to find those VIPs, and if possible, exfil them. Command will not be accompanying us on this trip; our comms are private and we won’t get any help from them unless we directly contact them and ask for it.” Mark paused for a moment. “Helljumpers, I leave it to you to individually decide whether you want to participate on this op; anyone who isn’t willing to come can just say so and stay here. Now, those of you who are willing, please step forward.”

To Mark’s surprise, all of them stepped forward by the time six seconds had passed. Had his helmet been off, the troopers would have seen his surprise.

“All right then, if anybody ain’t ready yet, gear up and get back here in five.” Nobody left to get ready, which Mark took as a sign they were eager to go. “Your team’s name will be ‘Blade’ for this op. Any questions?” None came.

He motioned for the group of SPARTANs and troopers to move out. They exited the station without any of the guards obstructing their passage; fully equipped special forces units were quite intimidating.

“So boss, who’re we bailing out, specifically?” Ethan inquired.

“Shining Armor and Princess Cadence. The former is captain of the Royal Guard, the latter is his wife.”

“Who requested this op?” Jason added.

“Uh, kinda vague on that, but someone or somepony important.” That’s mostly true, if I’m the one being vague.

Knife and Blade teams jogged their way to the castle, encountering a startling lack of resistance until they reached the actual gates of the castle.

“No tangos,” Ethan observed. “Sky’s less crowded too.”

“Air Force is damn good at their job,” Mark commented. “They should be, too; Eagle Sword wouldn’t have taken ‘em otherwise.”

The picturesque cobblestone pavement of the city was littered with rubble and bodies, and sprinkled with organic material. Umbrellas and tables were overturned, some of them broken too.

The whole scene was one of motionless chaos. Carts blocked parts of the streets, their unattended cargo of produce ripening, decaying. Glasses, bags, and other detritus were strewn about the place. Garbage cans were overturned, rats feasting on the disgusting contents.

The whole city bespoke a paradox of emptiness and population; motion and sound were sparse, but what little of it appeared indicated life behind every door. Faint crying and speech could be heard, and gunfire punctuated the silence. From the ground could one see the swarm overhead, rapidly being depopulated by the skilled pilots of Eagle Sword.
Blade and Knife teams took fourteen minutes to reach the castle, then the shooting started.

A sniper shot the ground near Mark’s left foot, the deadly projectile kicking up chunks of masonry. The round left a thin vapor trail in its wake.

“Guard tower, east side; take him!”

Jason switched from his pistol to his SRS99 sniper rifle, and dropped the PMC with a single shot to the chest.

“Tango down. Teams, move up, stay in cover!”

The teams advanced into the castle garden, spread out over twenty meters to prevent a single explosive from taking them out. The vast green space remained beautiful, but the corpses of several guards, as well as changelings and humans from both sides, littered the ground. Several large statues had been reduced to rubble, and provided excellent cover for the advancing forces.

About halfway through the courtyard, Mambas rushed into the area, pinning the dozen advancing soldiers down. No one was hit in the initial volley, but Knife and Blade were quickly bogged down by suppressing fire.

Ethan created three holographic decoys, which began “firing” at the PMCs, and drew return fire. Mark tossed a grenade at an advancing squad, which blew three of the defenders to smithereens, and knocked out the other. Jason sniped two hostiles, a sniper and a spotter, removing another threat.

The ODSTs began throwing their own grenades; Mark assisted with his grenade launcher and Ethan with his own grenades, preferring to save his rockets. The area in front of them turned into a cratered no-mans-land in seconds. Only eight PMCs remained.

The last ones were dispatched entirely by the Helljumpers. A volley of rifle fire from them tore the last of the defenders to ribbons. The battle ended in five minutes, with no friendly casualties.

The SPARTANs checked the garden for any remaining hostiles, but found none, save a PMC that one of Mark’s grenades had knocked unconscious.

“Surgeon, we got enough biofoam to interrogate this guy?”

“Yeah.” He applied the substance to the contractor’s wounds, and kicked his weapons away.

“Wha-huh? Oh shit!” The patient exclaimed as the initial stinging sensation awoke him.

“Hey, I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them honestly. My suit will tell me if you’re lying,” Mark said, the last part being a bluff.

“Okay.”

“Why are you here?”

“Overthrow the current government in order to exploit this country’s resources. Locate a spell in the Canterlot archives, Star-Swirl the Bearded wing, one that allows ponies and pony-like creatures to shift at will between their true form, while retaining their general appearance and abilities.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I’m the leader of Saffron Section, this unit.”

“Last question. Are you allied with these changelings?”

“Yeah, our boss set up the alliance.”

“Thanks, but I’m afraid we can’t take you with us. You’ll have to stay here.” Mark drew his knife and stabbed the prisoner in the throat.

Signaling the ODSTs that the coast was clear, Knife team moved up, with Blade close behind. The doors to the castle were sealed shut.

“Bigass door there; oak too,” An ODST said, his name fittingly being Carpenter. He knocked on it hard, presumably to determine how thick it was. “Only way through this is if we blow it.”

“Not a problem,” Ethan said. He produced an explosive charge, and began arming it, setting the shape of the blast. While he worked at the charge, the troopers stood watch. “Real men don’t open doors, they breach ‘em!” Ethan said laughing. A few of the troopers chuckled too.

Mark and Jason conversed privately over their helmet comms, whilst keeping watch. No one would have known they were talking unless they were monitoring the channel.

“Why are we really here?”

“Honestly Jason, I don’t know. The ponies we gave that tour to were at the train station. You know that Twilight Sparkle one is the sister of Shining Armor, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, when I told her what the situation was regarding her brother, she started crying. It shouldn’t have bothered me at all, but it did, a lot. Dammit, I thought I was harder than this; I need to be harder than this! I know I’m not as cold as Ethan is, but I’m not a bleeding heart softie either.”

“Hey, you’re still human, Mark.”

“Shit Jason, I’m supposed to be a SPARTAN, not a human!” Mark yelled, his helmet keeping any sound from escaping.

“And why the hell do you say that? You think we need to lose our humanity to defend humanity?” Jason demanded.

“No,” Mark responded. “I’m worthless as a human, I’ve got nothing but my job and you and Ethan; I’m pretty sure I’m a shit friend compared to most other SPARTANs, too. So I’ve got war and two friends who could get on absolutely fine without me and live happily ever after. I’m a soldier first, and everything else second.”

Jason knew that he and Ethan would be fine without Mark, but he still considered Mark a good friend, and one he wouldn’t want to lose. He was shocked because he’d never heard him vent like this, or vent at all for that matter.

“Hey, you are a good friend, and we’d get along without you because that’s what we’d have to do! Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re becoming more human because you’re finding something outside of war besides your teammates!?”

Mark sighed. “No, I haven’t thought of it like that. I doubt that there’s anything for me outside of war, but thanks for the hope, Jason. Well, I guess someone like me who’s seen a lot of things in a lot of places could be a good analyst...”

“Hey, what’re friends for?”

After that thirty second conversation finished, Ethan shouted over the comms so the whole group could hear. “All right, charge is armed! Everyone back!”

All twelve of them ran to the sides of the door in order to avoid the blast, while still being able to enter the castle in seconds once their entrance was ready.

“Alright you bastards,” Ethan yelled, “Knock-knock!” He thumbed the detonate button.

***

Thunder rung through the halls of the castle, making its way through the whole structure; it could be felt through the building.

“What was that?” Princess Cadence asked, afraid and clinging to Shining Armor.

Shining heard her, but didn’t answer at first. He had his own problem; he’d just shot a human to death. He’d never killed anypony before, and the fact that he had ended a life shook him to his core.

“It sounded like an explosion.” He responded belatedly, stretching out each syllable.

“Why would they blow just one thing up, but not the whole castle?”

“M-maybe they’re here to r-r-rescue us?”

“I hope so, sweetie…”

Shining still held the pistol with his telekinesis, unwilling to let go of the parting gift of one of the humans protecting Shining had given him as he died. The human had explained how to use it before he was mortally wounded, but he didn’t expect to die by bleeding out from a changeling attack. It was this pistol that Shining killed an attacking human with, this pistol that would protect him, and this pistol that would haunt him.

***

Twilight sat anxiously in the station, constantly hoping that Mark would walk in with her brother and Cadence. She found herself worrying about Mark almost as much as her brother and sister-in-law, which perplexed her.

Why do I care what happens to him? It’s obviously his job to fight bad guys, so he should be fine. But he’s risking his life to make me feel better, so maybe he’s more than just a soldier. Then again, he said himself he’s got nothing but war, so maybe there’s some ulterior motive to this, and it’s about advancing his species’ agenda.

Maybe… Maybe, he likes me but doesn’t realize it? No, impossible. Why would he be interested somepony who doesn’t even have the same number of legs as him? And given what he’s been through, would he be foolish enough to fall in love knowing that what happened to his family could happen again? No, if what he does is anywhere near as dangerous as I think, he’d be dead if he were that foolish. But isn’t love inherently risky? Forget it, I’m a scholar, not a philosopher.

“Is something wrong Twilight?” Fluttershy asked, speaking about Twilight’s highly visible worry.

“I’m just worried about Shine and Cadence… And Mark, for some reason.”

“Oh, I’m worried about them too, we all are.”

“Thanks, Fluttershy.”

“Don’t mention it. Unless you want to, I mean.”

“Doncha fret about it Twi,” AJ chimed in, “They’ll all get back safe and sound!”

“I hope so…”

***

Knife and Blade teams stormed into the castle before the dust settled, their low-light vision activated. At this point, they wanted to stay as stealthy as possible; if the welcome wagon came, they’d get the jump on them, if not, it’d seem like there’d only been a random shelling of the castle to follow on the attack earlier.

“Colonel, want us to split up and search for clues?” An ODST named Ruderno asked.

“Ain’t ya ever seen a horror vid? That never ends well!” One by the name of Granite responded.

“Cut the chatter,” Mark said, “we’ve still got a job people. We stick together, follow the bodies. I’m linking the neural implants of any dead troopers to create a path for us. Hopefully, our VIPs are at the other end.”

A path appeared on all of their HUDs. It appeared to be linear, with none of the dead Eagle Sword soldiers straying from a clear path. It led through what Mark recognized as the path he’d used to escort the VIPs a week ago, during the Covenant raid. The destination was different however, seemingly near where Mark remembered a tower being.

Mark motioned for the group to follow him. They crept forwards, trying to cover every angle. They combined that with the low-light vision in their helmets to maximize their situational awareness and minimize the angles they could be surprised from.

“Why aren’t there more inside?” Carpenter, the wood expert from earlier inquired.

“Hey, Carpenter,” Mark whispered over the comms, “Don’t jinx us.”

“Probably charlies in here,” Ethan added. “Lot of places to hide…”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re keepin’ a low profile, sure suck to wake up a nest of those things.” Granite whispered.

“No kiddin’.” Mark agreed.

The group’s footsteps were almost silent as they crept up the stairs to what looked like the endpoint of the dead soldiers’ journey. They all silently agreed to just skip the route the dead guys took and go straight to the end. They’d save time and perhaps even lives that way.

As they reached the tower without incident, the group entered the large room inside. The chamber was luxurious, featuring a large bed, a vanity, and beautifully embroidered tapestries. The VIPs were there, and they were alive, if shaken.

“No, stay back!” Shining Armor shouted. He fired his M6G pistol at Mark, emptying the last three rounds of the magazine into him. Mark charged the pony and yanked the gun out of his telekinesis field.

“Shine, do you remember me? It’s Mark, we met at the reception? Your sister wanted me to find you.”

“Shit, charlies comin’!” Ethan shouted. The gunshots had attracted the changelings’ attention after the explosion awoke them, and they were coming to find food.

Shining Armor snapped out of his stupor, and looked into Candence’ eyes. They knew what to do. “It worked last time,” he said.

They attempted to create a blast of love to remove the changelings from the castle, as they had over a month earlier. Light surged from their horns, but nothing happened. No colorful pulse, no changeling-free Canterlot.

Changelings swarmed into the room, and every member of Knife and Blade teams fired into the swarm. The withering rate of fire of their multiple rifles combined obliterated the swarm in seconds.

Those seconds didn’t feel like a lifetime or eternity, or anything so dramatic. They were a blur of noise and semi-aimed firing into a swarm of enemies, enemies whose very strength in numbers made them easier to slaughter, by the virtue of their dense formation and bullets penetrating multiple targets.

“Shit, grenade!”

A flashbang detonated, and Mambas followed the changelings, spraying the ODSTs. The stun grenade caused many of Blade to fall to the floor, unknowingly causing the attackers to believe them dead. A stray bullet hit Shining Armor in the gut, the armor piercing round cleanly entering and exiting the pony’s abdomen.

Mark heard Shining’s scream as his vision recovered. He fired on the attacking squad of Mamba troopers, delivering a clean headshot to each of the five attackers. The ODSTs and Knife team recovered and prepared to evacuate.

Mark ran over to the wounded pony, and applied pressure to the wound.

“Surgeon! Get this stallion some biofoam!”

Jason rushed over and filled the wound with biofoam. The coagulating, anti-bacterial, wound filling polymer stung him awful before it numbed the pain. Biofoam was no substitute for medical treatment, being only a temporary solution, but it was incredibly useful for most kinds of wounds, bullet wounds included.

Mark picked up Shining Armor and put him over his right shoulder, after slinging his rifle and activating the shield on his left gauntlet.

“Cadence, we’re getting you and Shine outta here. Follow us, we have to leave now.”

She obeyed, not wanting to leave her husband’s side. The team rushed out of the castle, heading towards the courtyard. Once again, the castle seemed empty.

“Knife actual, this is Raptor. We have the VIPs, but one of them is wounded. We applied first aid, but he doesn’t look good, requesting MEDEVAC. How copy?”

“Solid copy Raptor. We’re sending a Pelican your way now. ETA three minutes.”

“We have obtained intel from a captured PMC that there is in fact an alliance between Mamba and the changelings. Also, there is a refugee camp set up at the train station, the wounded VIP’s sibling and her friends should be exfil’d to see him! Can you comply?”

“Understood, we’ve gotten similar reports that corroborate that claim. But I’m afraid it’s a negative on moving those civvies; we’re moving most of Eagle Sword’s assets planetside now, this is turning into a damned occupation, and we won’t be able to get you that bird. You’ll have to babysit them for a few days, then we can get them to see the VIPs.”

“Understood, Raptor out.” Mark spoke over the comms to the team. “Pelican inbound for MEDEVAC, ETA two minutes thirty! When it gets here, I want Blade to go with the VIPs to the Cavalia. Knife, we’re heading back to the station after their evac. We need to find a way to get the civvies outta here!”

The teams prepared to move out. When the Pelican arrived, all nine members of Blade team entered the bird, bringing the wounded and unhurt VIPs with them. The bay doors shut, and the dropship flew east.

Knife returned to the station, noting a significantly reduced number of changelings in the sky, and a proportionally increased number on the ground.

“That went well, other than the wounded VIP,” Ethan commented.

“Yeah, not a one of the ODSTs bought it. Maybe we could work with that team again, they seem pretty skilled,” Jason agreed.

“Almost a perfect op.” Mark concluded.

Well, at least I won’t have to worry about having caused any needless friendly casualties.

The team reached the station a few minutes later. The guards, who were different from the ones they’d encountered previously, waved them in.

The ponies were waiting in the lobby for them, or at least it seemed that way. “Mark!” Twilight shouted exitedly, running towards the SPARTAN. The look on her face turned to concern. “W-where’re Shine and Cadence?”

“They’re safe, being sent to the same base the Princesses are already being guarded at. But, Shine was…”

“What happened?” Twilight’s lower lip began to tremble.

Just give it to her gently. No need to alarm her, or to lie to her.

“He was shot. He took an armor piercing round through the stomach, clean entry and exit wounds. He’ll make it. I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it entirely.”

Mark realized the pun he accidentally made. Shining Armor, armor piercing.

“It’s… It’s okay. He should be alright, that is what you said, right?” Twilight was visibly worried, but not crying like she had been earlier.

“Yeah. Also, one of the PMCs we… Interviewed, mentioned a spell that could turn ponies and pony-like creatures into humans, while still maintaining their physical attributes and abilities. It seems they were looking for it in the ‘Star-Swirl the Bearded’ wing of the Canterlot archives. Know anything?”

Twilight seemed to forget about her worries when he mentioned that. “Yeah, I thought it was written during one of his hallucinations about humans, so I, um, took it so nopony could hurt themselves with it. I didn’t believe in humans before I met you, so I thought it dangerous.” She grinned sheepishly. “I have the scroll in my library.”

“Is it the only copy?”

“It’s the original that I confiscated, and I also made a few copies. Those are in my library too.”

“Great. I’m gonna see if I can get the guards to let a train carrying the vetted ponies outta here.”

Mark consulted with a guard, asking him where Lieutenant Wong was. He directed him to an office near a terminal. Mark opened the door and entered.

“Lieutenant, I’d like to know if it’s feasible to get the vetted ponies out of this city using the train. I’ve noticed the skies are a lot less crowded, but I want to know if you have the manpower to spare to guard such a train.”

“Hell, an hour ago, I’da toldja ‘no’. But two whole platoons got in a little while ago, and I can spare twenty men now. In fact, they’d only have to guard for maybe an hour of the ride, so I can send some of the more tired people on the train. Don’t worry though, I’ll only send the ones who can make the first two hours just to be safe. I can get your train movin’ in half an hour, just let me organize the men and the ponies to get this going.”

“Thank you.” Mark exited, and told the ponies and his team the news. They were happy to leave. The loudspeaker called out names, and those they belonged to reported to the cars. Knife team got on.

The ride out was swift, and surprisingly few changelings tried to attack the transport. Those that did were dropped out of the sky by the weapons of battle-weary Eagle Sword soldiers.

Mark helped defend the train, as did the rest of Knife team. After they cleared the danger zone, the team entered the cars.

Mark stayed outside; the sun was rising on Ponyville.

“Knife actual, this is Raptor. We’ve managed to evacuate a few dozen vetted ponies from the station, and we’re headed to Ponyville with them. How copy?”

“Solid copy Raptor. We have news on the state of the wounded VIP, Shining Armor.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s in a catatonic state, a coma. Our docs think he’ll come out of it, but he’ll be asleep a while.”

“I see. Raptor out.”

Lost Cause

Mark and his team arrived at the Ponyville station, and they escorted their six ponies and the dragon to their respective homes. The sun was rising, and the ponies were appreciative of the symbolism. Mark escorted Twilight home, and came in.

“You said something about a scroll here?” Mark reminded Twilight.

“Uh-huh.” Twilight moved a rug, and opened a compartment under it. She produced a scroll. It was ancient, yet it appeared to still have plenty of use in it.

“It says something on here about a ‘Watchers’ Cabal’. Not in the spell itself, but in the extra text written on the scroll. This scroll is supposed to be almost a thousand years old, but the language is surprisingly modern. Maybe it’s not the original, but a reproduction for more modern users within this ‘Cabal’.” Twilight squinted at the parchment, as if she would see some new meaning by doing so.

“I don’t know how ‘magic’ works here, but uh, can you read the scroll aloud without activating it?” Mark still preferred the scientific hypothesis Emmerich had proposed days earlier to the notion of real “magic”.

“Well, it looks like it takes concentration to perform, so I’d say I could read it to you.”

“Hit me.” Mark leaned against a wall, and activated his helmet’s recording function. This could yield valuable information, with pertinence to current operations and even how humanity understood the universe. Of course, it was just as likely that it could be useless to all parties involved.

Twilight cleared her throat, and Spike looked over the ledge he slept on to see what was happening.

“‘Spirits of the stars, of the skies; grant me a form, one of lies. For them who tread upon two feet, grant me the ability to normally greet. Those without magic and without flight, grant me their form and spare me their plight.’ The incantation ends there. I guess the words were self-explanatory, and the actual spell is oddly easy to memorize. Actually, it says that the words only need to be uttered if the user is trying to grant others the power as well.”

“So it affects others too?”

“The spell itself affects whoever the caster wants it to affect, and it seems they only have to cast it once. After that, whenever they change into a human they can change back at will. So I could use it on any of my friends, and they’d be able to switch whenever they felt like it. Only those who can cast the spell can change their human appearance, though. It also seems that whatever the user previously had with them in their human form stays with them when they change, so I could morph and have clothes. But it says that the first use doesn’t come with clothes. I guess I’d be naked if I went human the first time.” Twilight blushed excessively.

“Yeah. Can you show me one of the copies you made? I’d like to read one myself, but I’d rather play it safe and not damage ancient texts.”

“Oh, do you mean for the notes? Those are a lot longer than the spell itself, so you can go ahead and read them.”

“Thanks, Twi.” Mark took the copy. It was written in shorthand, so it would be easier to read than the more fanciful writing the original probably had. There were strange symbols on it as well, all over it. They looked like the Forerunner glyphs Mark had seen in pictures. “What are these symbols?”

“Oh, those are magic glyphs, they’re used to describe how to perform spells. I suppose humans don’t have them.” Twilight looked content, happy to be dispensing knowledge.

“No… We don’t. But…” Mark was uncertain about revealing his idea. He decided to tell her.

“But what?” Twilight demanded.

“I know these symbols.”

“You just said that humans didn’t have these!” Twilight exclaimed, frustrated.

“We don’t.”

“Then what the hoof are you talking about!?” Twilight was visibly irritated at this point.

“They aren’t human. I don’t know these as magical glyphs, I know them as Forerunner glyphs!”

“Who, or what are the Forerunners?” If magic symbols had identical-looking counterparts on other planets, Twilight wanted to know.

“It’s no longer classified data, so I’ll give you the short version, and later on I’ll set you up with a way to check the out long one. Basically, they were a race of beings that 100,000 years ago wiped out all sentient life in the galaxy to stop the spread of a horrific parasite. They preserved some races by transporting them to a construct outside of this galaxy, beyond the range of the Halo installations, and then killed all other races of sufficient biomass to sustain the parasite to starve it to death. They haven’t been seen since they returned our race, which was in the Stone Age, to Earth.”

“That’s horrible!” Twilight said, appalled at the notion of galactic genocide. “But how would those glyphs be here?”

“Forerunner artifacts can be found on almost any planet featuring sentient life. Do you remember those aliens that attacked us earlier?”

“Yeah, the Covenant, right?”

“Yes. Now, they were and still are a union of alien races united in worship of the Forerunners as gods, and they base most of their tech on Forerunner artifacts. In fact, the Covenant themselves didn’t, and still don’t fully understand how much of the tech they use works. That’s a drawback of reverse-engineering, I suppose. Anyway, it’s not unlikely that there’s Forerunner influence on this very planet. I think that they probably have something to do with the similarities between our worlds.”

Twilight sat down, a mixture of worry and awe on her face. “Wow, this is heavy.” Until then, ancient aliens had been a fun idea for a sci-fi novel to her, but nothing more.

“Yeah. I think that-” Mark’s helmet radio went off, interrupting him. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“Raptor, this is Vice Admiral Hunt onboard the Deliverance, do you copy?”

“Affirmative. What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a shitstorm brewing up here. We need you and your team at Cavalia, ASAP. We’re diverting a Falcon your way as we speak. Your teammates are en route to your position. We’ll… Dammit.”

“What?”

“It seems that Princess Celestia,” Hunt began with disdain, “Requests that her students be taken to the command center to view the op with her. I don’t know why; maybe she got scared after watching that op involving Covies last night and wants somepony to be scared with. Anyway, we just called off that Falcon, and we’re sending a Pelican your way instead. I just ordered Surgeon and Maverick to round up those ponies they just dropped off, and bring them with. Sorry about this Raptor, but diplomacy has to be one of our priorities.”

“Understood. I’d rather worry about offending allies than fighting a full-scale war any day. I’d count my blessings, sir.”

Hunt laughed. “Yeah, I guess I’d rather complain about this than mourn a destroyed planet too. Deliverance out.”

“Twilight.”

“Yes?” She looked up at Mark, having been staring at the scroll on the floor in front of her.

“You and your friends are heading out. Princess Celestia requests the presence of you and your friends at Cavalia JSB, to view an operation my team’s about to perform with her. I don’t know why. Bird’s gonna land outside your house again.”

“Ugh. I need a break from traveling,” Spike said.

“Well, you can stay home and sleep if it’s okay with Twi,” Mark responded.

“Sure, just take a nice nap, Spike.” Twilight put the scroll and its duplicates back in the hidden compartment, and re-adjusted the rug.

“Awesome,” Spike said with a yawn.

Mark and Twilight walked outside, and waited for the Pelican to arrive. The sun was fully risen now, and ponies were just leaving their homes to begin their daily routines.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Twilight began. “How is it you manage to speak about all these horrible events without showing any remorse?”

“Mental callouses, I suppose. Deal with war all your life, and you learn to block out or shut in most of the bad stuff.”

“Are all humans as mentally resilient as you seem to be?”

“No, not at all. A lot of humans have permanent mental disorders from the horrors of war, and some of them are kept in insane asylums because of the severity of their condition. Ever seen a pony talk to dead ponies because they’ve convinced themselves the dead are still alive? Have you seen ponies who are convinced that everypony else is an impostor, and they’re the only real pony left in existence, believing themselves to be the subject of scientific study by aliens?”

“No…”

“I hope you never do.”

The rest of the ponies and Knife team walked to the pair’s position, or hopped in Pinkie Pie’s case. The Pelican arrived as the group assembled, and they all got in. They felt the aircraft gain altitude and speed.

“Knife team,” Vice Admiral Hunt began over the dropship’s internal speakers, “The CM forces, that’s what we’re calling the alliance between changeling and Mamba forces now, have withdrawn from Canterlot. Whatever they were after, they either got it or sustained too many casualties to continue their assault. They opened up another front, and that’s why we need you.”

“If you’ve got a problem, we’ll do our best to solve it.”

“An hour ago, the frigate UNSC Just Cause was boarded by CM forces during a patrol near the moon. All members of the crew are presumed dead; we need your team to help take it back. We’ll have some of our Longsword fighters blow a hole in the hull, and your team will enter. From there you’ll proceed to the hangar, where you’ll open the doors to enable marines to board the ship and assist in the recapturing. From there it should be a fairly standard boarding operation.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Hunt out.”

“All dead? Shit, twelve-hundred people is a lot to wipe out,” Ethan commented.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, “And you and I’ll probably have to swap our weapons. I don’t see much use for a sniper rifle inside a UNSC frigate. A Covenant ship would be another thing.”

“Okay, I’ll swap my rocket launcher for a shotgun then.”

“What’s a ‘boarding operation’? If you don’t mind me asking,” Fluttershy queried.

“Well,” Jason began, “A boarding op is when a group of soldiers enters a vessel under hostile control. It involves lots of close-quarter combat, and it’s pretty dangerous because of that. You and your friends will get to see the op real-time through our helmet cameras, so it’ll explain itself mostly.”

“Oh.”

The rest of the trip was silent. The ponies weren’t sure how to feel about what was happening. They’d get to see Princesses Celestia and Luna and Cadence, and see Shining Armor in the hospital. They didn’t know the severity of his condition.

When the dropship landed, the bay opened and the nine passengers exited. A marine in battle dress led them to the command center.

“Whoa,” The ponies said collectively, staring at the busy people and the dozens of screens displaying a plethora of information that they didn’t understand.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight exclaimed, happy to see her mentor. She hugged the princess’ leg. “Where’s Shining Armor? I thought he would be here.”

The marine who escorted them interrupted “Blue mane, white coat, unicorn male?”

“Yes that’s him.” Twilight responded. She was suddenly stricken with worry.

“Follow me.”

***

The marine led Twilight through a maze of corridors, and Mark followed them both. He removed his helmet, feeling that he wouldn’t need it here, and wanting to feel something on his face, even if it was just the artificial breeze of air conditioners.

Why is Mark coming? Shine is okay isn’t he? He said Shine was just going to be in the hospital for a while, and that he’d be fine.

They were led to the medical wing, which smelled of disinfectant. The humans going about their business were all clad in scrubs, some of them with varying amounts of blood on them. The marine led the pair to the Intensive Care Unit, and opened a door.

Shining Armor was attached to numerous machines, monitoring every vital function he had, and maintaining them. There was a tube leading into his mouth, which was attached to an object which revealed it to be a feeding tube.

“He’s in a coma,” A doctor said. He had snuck up behind them as they gazed at the comatose stallion. “He’s been like that since he got here; my guess is he’ll be that way for a while.”

“A coma? You told me he was fine!” Twilight yelled at Mark.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said quietly.

“Sorry? Sorry!? You lied to me about my brother’s health!”

“I- I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.” Mark was visibly nervous.

“Oh, so that makes it completely okay!” She quipped sarcastically. “He’s in a coma and you tell me he’ll be fine!”

“Well excuse me! Did you expect me to walk in and say ‘Sorry Twilight, but I fucked up and now your brother’s in a coma’? I never said I’d even bring him back alive, just that I’d find him. I didn’t want to give you false hope, but it looks like I failed there too!”

“Ugh, you’re horrible! You went there to save him and you messed up, bad!” Twilight was visibly furious, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth as she spoke, and her breathing was heavy.

Mark waved the doctor out and shut the door, so not a soul would hear what he said to Twilight. “You’re God damn right I did! I risked the lives of my two best friends and nine elite marines just to make you feel better! I haven’t the foggiest idea why you crying back there made me do what I did, but now I realize you’re trouble. Shit! You made me break rule number two! That’s the most important rule you can possibly break and live!”

“Well then,” Twilight fumed, “What is this ‘rule number two’?”

“Number two is ‘Never let your emotions interfere with an operation’. I don’t even know what emotion it was that made me do you that favor. Pity? Empathy? Generosity? Kindness? If I feel emotions like that, then I’m a shitty SPARTAN.”

“Oh, so you did it to out of the kindness of your heart?” Twilight snorted. “What a load of crud!”

“You’re damn right I did it out of the kindness of my heart! And I’m disgusted with myself that I have such weakness in me. I’m good for fighting, nothing else! I’m not worth two shits as a human being, and now I’m becoming a lousy soldier too!” Mark sighed, and looked at Shining Armor. “Do you know what suicide is?”

“Yes,” Twilight responded.

“It’s the taking of one’s own life. It’s my ‘exit strategy’ for when I’m no longer able to fight. For me there is nothing except the mission. I know suicide is a horrible sin, probably as bad as murder, and that I’ll burn in Hell for it, but I don’t feel any attachment to this existence.”

“Oh, so now you’re trying to guilt trip me?”

Mark turned back to face Twilight. “No. I’m telling you that I’m fighting for the abstract, unattainable goal of peace. Do you know that there has never been a period in human history where people have not been killing each other? That even as our race faced annihilation from existence, we fought amongst ourselves? Small groups of humans that fought us before we met the Covenant, continued to fight us, bringing our extinction that much closer. Let me spell out what this means. I am neither the first to fight for humanity, nor the last, nor will there ever be a last; as long as we succeed, we cannot reach a state where soldiers are not needed. By ‘winning’ we delay victory. Do ponies have that feeling of hopelessness? ” His face was suddenly one of weariness, fatigue, and depression.

Twilight was no longer furious; instead, she felt pity for Mark, before her anger returned. “Don’t change the subject!”

“There was nothing more to say; I messed up, and I regret it. If I can’t even do my job right, what good am I to anybody? I know that what I do is important, but fighting for an ideal just doesn’t motivate me the way it used to. I want something to protect that I can enjoy; I want to fight for something reciprocal.”

Mark heard talking in his helmet. “I’ll see you later.” He put it back on.

“Raptor, it’s Surgeon, get to the Pelican, we’re leaving in five.”

“Copy.” Mark opened the door. The marine who escorted them to Shining Armor stood waiting. “Could you please escort her back to the command center?”

The nameless marine saluted and led Twilight back to the command center. Mark worked his way through the winding halls, and made it outside. From there he headed to the airfield, where his Pelican awaited. He jumped in, and the aircraft lifted off, the rear doors closing.

***

The ride took an hour, and was marked by complete silence on the part of the SPARTANs.

A while later, the pilot yelled back, “ETA five minutes.” The hatch behind the cockpit sealed itself, and the passenger bay began to decompress. A few minutes later, the rear door opened, revealing their target.

The frigate Just Cause had a hole blown in the side, just as Hunt said it would. The Pelican positioned itself as close as possible to the hull breach as possible, leaving as little possibility for error as possible for the three boarders.

Mark went first. He pushed off of the interior of the dropship, and flew through space for fourteen seconds before colliding with a wall inside the frigate. Jason and Ethan did the same, and came to stand next to Mark.

The ship’s artificial gravity was still functional, although the strafing run that created the team’s entrance had left this particular section with low gravity. The SPARTANs checked the room for hostiles. Seeing none, Mark contacted their transport.

“Echo one-one-niner, this is Raptor; we are in, you are clear to disengage.”

“Copy Raptor, Echo one-one-niner returning to station.”

“Maverick, you’re on point; Surgeon, you have the rear.” Mark gestured to a door, and Ethan moved to open it, his teammates close behind.

“Ain’t budging,” Ethan reported. Jason moved to unlock the door.

“It must’ve locked after the strafing run, probably to keep in the atmosphere,” Jason hypothesized.

“Can you make the next room into a makeshift airlock?” Mark inquired.

“Yeah, gimme a minute.” In addition to being a good medic and a fantastic sniper, Jason was also an excellent hacker. All of Knife team was highly intelligent, but Jason’s knowledge tended to be more mathematical and scientific, which was why he excelled at his roles. He tapped into the control panel for the door with his wrist-mounted TACPAD.

***

Twilight was still angry about Mark’s deception of her, even though she understood his motives. What he said to her, like so much of what he did, disturbed her. She kept her emotions under wraps, and appeared stoic as she watched the mission feed.

“Is there a reason Jason is just standing there, tapping that thing on his wrist? I don’t mean to sound rude, but…” Fluttershy asked.

“He’s turning the room they’re about to enter into a makeshift airlock, so they can enter it and then move through the rest of the ship. It’s locked right now, so he has to override the systems to allow them in,” A techie wearing an Army uniform sans the helmet explained.

“Umm, okay?” Fluttershy understood the basic meaning: that he was unlocking the door, but the rest flew over her head; she wasn’t familiar with most of the terminology he used.

The door unlocked, and Knife team entered. As the door shut behind them, the room hissed, and the ponies recognized the sound, having heard it earlier and remembering the explanation that it was air being pumped into the room. They moved to the next room after that was done.

It was filled with death. Green blood dripped from the walls, pieces of changelings littering the floor. Humans lied motionless on the floor; both sides were in the same condition.

“Damn, looks like we just missed this one. Blood ain’t even dry yet,” Ethan commented, his words heard from the command center. He ran a finger through a few of the small puddles, and each turned out to be liquid, just as he said. Several of the defenders were horribly mutilated, likely by the changelings.

Any idle chatter in the command center ceased as the entire room solemnly acknowledged the horrible fate of their Navy and Marine brothers and sisters; the humans all renewed their focus on their work.
The ponies they hosted were horrified, likely more so than their human allies.

This is what they deal with?

How do they bear through it?

How much have they seen that they can just shrug this off with silence?

Mother of Celestia, that’s awful!

They’re never going to see their families again…

I knew the changelings were cruel, but this?

Simply atrocious!

I can’t begin to imagine what they’ve seen that this doesn’t make them stop altogether…

***

“Knife, move forward, stay frosty,” Mark ordered, while motioning for the team to group up on the next door.

“Stacking up.”

Mark slammed the button to open the door.

A changeling rushed at Ethan, and pinned him to the ground. A dozen others swarmed in and did the same to Mark and Jason. The one on Ethan attempted to bite into his armor, but flinched as it chipped a tooth on his shields.

“Get offa me, shit-sucker!” Ethan exclaimed. He drew his knife and drove it into the side of the changeling’s skull. Pushing the creature off of him, he sheathed his blade and picked his shotgun back up. Another bug came at him, and he blew the front half of it into black and green chunks.

Mark delivered an uppercut to the jaw of his changeling, stunning it, and kicked it off of him with both feet. He activated the energy sword on his gauntlet, and began to dismember the insectoid creatures. They came at him at various angles to try and make it hard for him, but he wasn’t fazed.

Jason headbutted the changeling on him, the alien’s skull shattering, and chunks of green flesh and black chitin smeared his blue Security visor. He grabbed his pistol and opened fire on the remaining hostiles, careful not to hit his allies.

The whole fight was over in eighteen seconds.

“That was fun,” Ethan said with a laugh.

“Yeah, bug hunts always are,” Mark agreed. He wasn’t bloodthirsty, but he enjoyed a good fight.

They picked up their guns and moved on. The room they had been about to enter was eerily quiet. It was filled with a green mist, which condensed on the edges of their visors, and obscured their vision. Jason wiped his visor, trying to clean off the bits of changeling still on it.

Marines and naval personnel hung from the ceiling, suspended by an elastic green-gray substance. They seemed to have been partially eaten, likely by the changelings. At least one of them, a seemingly unharmed marine in a sealed joint-service Army-Marines bodysuit, was still alive.

Mark motioned for Jason to help cut him down, and they drew their knives. The elastic ooze was easily cut, and the SPARTANs ripped the goo off, leaving none on the marine’s armor.

Jason rolled him over, and knocked on his helmet.

“Wake up, buttercup!” He chirped.

The marine began to exhibit signs of consciousness, moving his limbs and head. He opened his eyes, and saw the silvery SPARTAN gazing at him. He sat up and scooted towards a wall.

“Fuck, what happened?” He asked, moving his fingers to test them. He had a Hispanic accent.

“You tell us,” Jason replied. “We just got here, fought off a dozen bugs. You’re the only survivor we’ve found, but then again this is only the third room we’ve been in.”

“Fuggin’ CMs happened, man. Six Pelicans came into the hangar flashing false IFFs on ‘em, and the bugs just swarmed outta three of ‘em. The other three had Mambas in ‘em, ‘bout seventy-five between ‘em. They musta been usin’ the expanded compartments.”

Mark spoke up. “What’s your name and rank?”

“Corporal Eddie Rico, sir.”

“Your IFF working?”

“Yeah, I see your names, callsigns ‘n ranks.”

“Just stick to our callsigns, Rico.”

“You got it, Raptor.” Rico saluted, and picked up an adjacent MA37 assault rifle, and an M6G pistol.

“You need ammo for those?” Ethan offered.

“Nah, I’ve still got ammo.”

***

“How come they use nicknames like that?” Pinkie queried.

“They’re callsigns. Callsigns are names used for special forces operators, and others, in order to conceal identities and confuse any enemies that may be listening, however unlikely that eventuality,” the Army technician responded. “Oh, I’m Sergeant Gregory Armstrong, by the way, but you can just call me ‘Greg’.”

“So, they’re like codenames?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“In a nutshell, yeah.”

“Oh. So Ethan is ‘Maverick’, Mark is ‘Raptor’, and Jason is ‘Surgeon’?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Thanks, Greg.”

“No prob.”

“That fight back there was disgusting,” Rarity commented.

“Yeah, there’s still some bits of changeling on Jason,” Twilight noted. “Wait, if they see through those visors, wouldn’t they be easily broken?”

“Surprisingly, no. The visor is the weakest part of the armor, but it’s still extremely durable. Surgeon could’ve headbutted a steel wall as hard as possible, and his visor would still be intact, albeit with a cracked outer layer.”

“Wow,” Twilight said. She was continually being impressed by the technology humanity wielded, although the idea that there was a group of aliens with technology far more advanced than humanity scared her.

Celestia pondered the efficiency with which the humans waged war, a frown on her face.

I’m beginning to wish they weren’t on our planet now. But they make excellent guardians, and seem to have good intentions regardless of their proficiency with war. We maintain our own military, so I suppose that they have every right to use their technology to defend themselves. The fact that they’re so willing to protect their allies does give comfort, and I suppose given that we are the only real allies they have they’d have to. Still, I don’t entirely trust them…

***

“Alright. Knife team, Rico, we’ve got five more rooms and corridors to make it through before we reach the hangar. We’re gonna open the bay doors so our Pelicans can drop off a boarding team; if the doors don’t open with either the primary or backup systems, we’ll blow ‘em open. If we see any surviving Eagle Sword personnel in fighting shape, Rico’ll fill ‘em in,” Mark explained. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, one,” Rico replied. “If our birds are only droppin’ off a team, how do we get out?”

“Simple. All three of us know how to fly Pelican dropships, so we’ll just borrow the Pelicans those Mambas left in the bay, and alter the IFFs so the fleet doesn’t shoot us down.”

“How’ll they know it’s not another boarding team?”

“We’ll link our individual IFFs to the birds, so they know we’re who we say we are.”

“Okay, makes sense.”

“Alright, same formation as before, Rico, you take the back with Surgeon.”

The marine nodded, and moved to position. The team moved up, and this time they stood further away from the door when they activated it, not wanting to repeat their last encounter with changelings. As he did before, Mark opened the door.

This time, it was Mambas on the other side. Mark threw a grenade in, and the team took cover. The explosion blew the PMCs to the walls, the shrapnel piercing their suits. Ethan stormed in and gave a hefty serving of 8-gauge magnum buckshot to each occupant of the room that was still standing.

At this point, other doors opened, and Mamba troopers flooded in, weapons firing. Knife team moved in as well, and the thunder of the two factions’ weapons dominated the room.

Mark’s DMR delivered fatal wounds to the hearts and minds of the attacking soldiers, piercing their helmets, skulls, and armor with lethal effects. He eviscerated one of his foes with his energy sword, and threw the body at another, stunning him long enough to close the distance and deliver a left-handed uppercut with spine-shattering force.

Ethan dispatched four enemies before his shotgun was emptied of ammunition. When that happened, he switched to his assault rifle and hosed the area with armor-piercing 7.62mm rounds. The sheer volume of the projectiles killed two more, and he reloaded after throwing a grenade. The grenade’s intended targets all made it to cover, but it bought him enough time to reach cover of his own.

Jason delivered a flurry of punches to the enemies surrounding him, and he broke dozens of bones. He followed with close range pistol fire, the high-caliber rounds devastating their targets as they impacted and caused massive trauma.

Rico just tried not to hit the SPARTANs as he gave cover fire. He was a good fighter, but the SPARTANs were all over the place, and he didn’t really have any clear shots.

As with most close-range firefights involving SPARTANs, it was over in less than a minute. By the time the last bodies hit the floor, Knife team’s shields were recharging, and their weapons were being reloaded. The group proceeded past the bodies filling the room, and towards the hangar. There was no resistance on their way there, which struck them as odd.

“Hey, why do ya think they took this ship anyway?” Ethan asked.

“Hell if I know,” Mark replied.

“Well they obviously wanted something on the ship and not the ship itself. Given the technical skill they have, they could’ve stolen the whole frigate easily; thing about that is that it’d be easy to track, so they’re better off with smaller ships. I’ll see if I can run a remote inventory later,” Jason said.

The four of them made their way to the hangar, and entered the airlock to it without incident. The hangar was pressurized already, but the airlock was always sealed in case of emergencies. This protocol suited Knife and Rico just fine.

“Alright, everyone get a frag ready, and when we open these doors throw ‘em in.” Mark switched to his grenade launcher, deciding extra firepower wouldn’t hurt. “Then we storm the room, and kill everything and everyone that doesn’t flash green. I want this quick and clean; we stay alive, and make sure they don’t. Let’s move.”

The team opened the door, and threw four grenades in. The shrapnel killed more than the blasts did, and surprised the PMCs in the room. A few of them regained their composure and returned fire, while yelling at their teammates to help them.

Rico moved to cover behind a row of crates and cupboards, and Knife team followed. Suppressing fire was intense, and it took down Mark and Ethan’s shields by the time they reached cover.

Jason took advantage of the smart-link scope on his pistol to fire from behind cover without exposing himself. He was able to take out a few Mambas that way.

Ethan and Rico fired their assault rifles from their cover, the two of them creating a small but deadly hail of bullets. The armor-piercing rounds punched through armor and flesh and bone, causing mortal wounds to the defenders.

Mark fired his grenade launcher at a group of Mambas that were behind cover and adjacent to a fusion coil. The 40mm round arced over the cover and bounced off of the wall, landing between one of the soldiers and the aforementioned device. A moment later, the charge detonated, killing the entire group with the combination of the primary and secondary explosions. He opened the launcher’s breech and loaded another round.

At this point the entire team moved up, and the remaining PMCs came out of hiding to take out the advancing team. In a storm of bullets, Knife team was hit multiple times, taking down their shields. Rico crumpled to the deck, a bloody mess of bullet wounds.

Jason activated his drop shield, and diverted power from his armor’s motion systems to maintain the blue bubble of energy as it weathered the metal storm. Knife team’s shields recharged inside the small haven, and they eyed their surroundings.

Jason spoke first. “Okay, there’s a group of them between the Pelican and control panel at the far end of the hangar. When I drop this shield, I’m gonna rush over there and engage in CQC. How about you guys?”

“I’ll slide under the Pelican behind us, and kneecap the bastards on the other side,” Ethan offered.

“Got it. I’ll take out the group near the bay doors; I’ll use my active camo to flank ‘em, and I’ll tear ‘em up,” Mark explained.

“Ready?” Jason asked.

“Three, two, one, go!” Mark ordered.

Jason dropped the shield, and using the performance enhancement module, moved faster than the mind could comprehend. Rushing over to the group farthest away, he leaped over the Pelican they hid behind and landed atop a Mamba, crushing his ribs and killing him.

From there, Jason delivered two jabs to another’s chest and a punch to their stomach. The next one he elbowed in the face, and threw into a wall with massive force. Jason was hit in the back by a burst of assault rifle fire that took half of his shield’s strength and turned around.

The person who had been stupid enough to attack him was near-instantly disarmed, the rifle ripped from her hands. Jason smacked her across the side of the skull with the butt of the rifle, breaking the woman’s neck. He spun another forty degrees and hosed another PMC with the remaining bullets.

The last four approached him from behind. He threw the empty rifle at one of them, breaking the faceplate of a Mamba’s helmet. The incapacitated soldier fell limp to the ground.

One of the survivors charged at Jason, armed with a shotgun, screaming in rage. Jason made a grab for the man’s shotgun, and took several pellets for his efforts. His shields were taken down, and he took the shooter as a shield. He drew his M6G and fired three shots, dropping the last of his attackers. His “shield” took several rounds, wounding but not killing him. He delivered the coup de grâce, the merciful finishing blow, to the head of the wounded enemy.

At the same time as Jason had sprinted off for his targets, Ethan ran over to the Pelican behind them and slid under the width of its elevated belly. His shields allowed him to glide across the deck with relative ease, and near the end of the slide he blasted one of the Mamba’s knees off with his shotgun.

Ethan followed up on his power slide by using the butt of the gun to break another target’s spine. The Mambas were just starting to react to his attack, and unleashed a massive volley of armor-piercing rounds at Ethan. Had he not kneeled and engaged his armor lock, he would have died there.

Ethan’s shields pulsated with enormous amounts of energy for several seconds, the excess shielding building up until the fields that contained them could no longer bear the stress. The fields burst, releasing a cascade of energy five meters in each direction. The resulting electromagnetic fields fried the non-EMP-hardened systems in the PMCs helmets.

They staggered back, the burst of energy creating a pressure wave similar to a small explosion. Ethan switched to his assault rifle and delivered a series of two-round bursts to each of the Mambas’ heads, ending their threat.

As Ethan and Jason went to deal with the Mambas, Mark cloaked and moved to the third group, which was a dozen strong. The PMCs were hunkered down, waiting for another attack. He moved behind them, and decloaked, activating his shield gauntlet. The contractors began to turn around when Mark delivered a neck-breaking right hook to one of them.

They began to fire at him, but their bullets glanced off his wrist shield. One of them threw a grenade at him, and Mark dove for cover just in time to dodge most of the shrapnel, although some of it hit him, weakening his armor’s shields. He emerged from cover and threw a grenade, his wrist-shield in front of him.

The grenade detonated and killed two more of them, and wounding the rest. Mark switched to his grenade launcher and fired; this time the shot bounced off of a wall and detonated behind the group, knocking them down. He took cover before they could get up, and only seven did.

Mark popped open the breech of his launcher, and slid another 40mm caseless grenade in. He slung it on his back, and drew his DMR. The Mambas were back up and firing. Mark activated his active camo and circled around to their rear, the contractors still firing at his last known position.

Mark delivered three shots to the back of as many helmets, getting as many kills. The four that remained spun around in time to see one of their own pulverized by a roundhouse kick. The last three were dispatched by Mark’s gauntlet energy sword.

***

The command center watched the firefight go down from the three SPARTANs’ helmet cams. Three feeds showed the lightning speed and brutal efficiency with which they dispatched the three groups simultaneously.

The SPARTANs’ movements were almost too fast to make out for the ponies, or for anyone for that matter. The whole room watched as they dispatched nearly forty foes, and lost only a single man. Everyone in the UNSC knew SPARTANs were the best, but they were still impressed when they saw them perform such amazing feats.

Meanwhile, the ponies who watched were full of conflicting feelings. On one hoof, these humans were formidable allies, and they were happy to consider themselves friends with them. On the other hoof, the soldiers’ extreme proficiency in the art of war intimidated them enormously, as did their seeming disregard for the death of their newfound ally, not to mention the calmness which they snuffed out the lives of two score men and women.

“Knife team, are you clear? The boarding party is standing by. How copy?”

“Solid copy. Send in the marines.”

“Copy that Knife team, sending them now. UNSC Andraste, you are clear to dispatch boarding party.”

“Affirmative, ETA is four minutes. Andraste out.”

***

Knife team regrouped near the center of the now-cleared hangar.

“Boss, Rico said there were six Pelicans that came in, right? ‘Cause I only see four,” Ethan pointed out.

“You’re right… Surgeon, get on that door. If possible, tap into the security cams to see if there’s missing birds. We don’t know why they came to this ship, and the answer might be in those vids.”

“On it.” Jason moved to the console, and began punching in commands. A minute later, the hangar depressurized. Frigates were too small to have working bay shields, which meant that they had to depressurize the whole room every time the hangars opened. The enormous covering slowly withdrew into the ship’s hull, the vibration it produced felt through the SPARTANs’ boots.

The boarding team’s Pelicans landed, dropping off thirty marines. With much haste, the leathernecks fanned out, regrouping with their fireteams. Their rides in lifted off, and flew out of the hangar. The doors shut behind the birds, and the room began to pressurize.

“Boss, I got those vids,” Jason said over the radio. Mark strode over to him. The video started playing. In it, six Pelicans landed in the hangar, and the scores of Mambas and hundreds of changelings swarmed out, wiping out the hangar crew in seconds. The vid played for a few more minutes, showing nothing of any real importance, before it froze.

“It ends there. We know for sure that they had six birds now. Problem is, they knew about the cams and stopped the recording. Whatever they did with those missing dropships, they didn’t want us to know. My guess is they stole something, and they don’t want us to know what until it’s too late.”

“Depending on what it was, we might be.”

Suddenly, the whole ship lurched. Half of the marines fell over, and some of them slid around a bit. The frigate had picked up a large amount of acceleration.

“Knife team, this is UNSC Andraste. Your ship’s engines just lit up; you’re accelerating on course two-eight-one by one-three. How copy?”

“Solid copy. Do me a favor; since I’m a ground-pounder, can you tell me where that’s sending us?” Mark requested.

“Sorry to break this kind of news, but you’re on heading towards the moon. At your current velocity, there’s no way to pull out of the dive in time; recommend your team and the marines grab onto something. You’re about to crash land at seventeen degrees off horizontal. Estimated time to impact, one minute thirty.”

“All right, listen up everyone!” Mark shouted over the comms so his squad and the marines would all hear him. “Someone or something put this heap on a course to crash land on the moon! We hit dirt in one minute, so strap up and hold onto your asses, because the shit’s about to hit the fan!”

Mare Tranquillitatis

There was absolute silence in the command center. Not a soul spoke, nor did a body move. All forty-one of the occupants of the room were frozen in suspense, an audience to the inevitable crash of the frigate UNSC Just Cause. A crash on the surface of a moon that looked so very similar to the one that four people in the room had been born on. A moon that one particular occupant had spent a millennium on.

A live video feed was transmitted to the center from the UNSC Andraste, which had just inserted thirty marines into the now-doomed vessel. The crews of the ship and the center as well as the guests, watched as the frigate silently crashed on the surface. Meanwhile, they could hear the collision from the SPARTANs’ transmitting helmets.

Metal shrieked and groaned as the vessel broke apart on the belly and the port side, leaving a trail of debris that stretched along the length of the trench the crash dug. The once proud starship came to a halt, and the hangar was filled with exaggerated sounds of one of the most basic bodily functions.

***

The SPARTANs and marines were all sighing loudly, showing enormous relief that they had survived this debacle. What came next was laughter, as Mark realized that not a single leatherneck had died or been badly wounded during the crash. Jason and Ethan joined him too, and the marines joined soon after.

The laughter was thunderous, and rightfully so. They had just survived a frigate crash landing on a moon, and not one of them had anything more than minor injuries. They felt like the luckiest soldiers in the whole damned universe.

***

As soon as the command center realized what was happening, why they were laughing, they began to laugh too. Pinkie was actually the first to realize they’d all survived, and thus the first to join in their mirth. Relief flooded the command center, replacing the grim outlook that had dominated the room mere seconds ago.

***

After a minute of relief, Knife team and the marines regained their composure, and stood up. Mark knew the plan for if the ship was damaged beyond repair, and he elected to inform the marines.

“Okay people, listen up,” Mark began. “Our objective was to secure this ship so that it could be put back into the fleet, but obviously that won’t do the fleet any good at this point. Now we’re going to clear this ship, room-by-room, until we can destroy any and all sensitive information onboard. Then we set one of the nukes onboard to detonate after a set time limit and destroy this vessel. We’ll evac from here using the Pelicans the CMs were kind enough to leave for us, and be home in time for dinner. Fireteams Alpha and Delta, you’re going to hold this area. Bravo, Charlie, you sweep aft; Echo and Foxtrot will sweep fore. Surgeon, Maverick, we’re checking the cargo hold; I have a hunch. Move out!”

Every group did as they were ordered to, taking turns cycling through the airlock. They could only go two fireteams at a time, which meant that Knife team went last, but got the whole chamber to themselves.

Knife team advanced through the narrow passageways, heading for the cargo hold in the ship’s belly. The trip was very suspenseful for them, with the team expecting an ambush at any moment.

“So boss, could you fill us in on your hunch?” Jason requested.

“Sure, I was talking to Emmerich a few weeks ago about this specific ship. This vessel was given a unique honor in weapons science. They were to carry the some of the first VANITY armor planetside and test it using specific personnel. This isn’t the only ship in the fleet with VANITY armor aboard, but it was going to be the first to test it.”

“By ‘specific personnel’, do you mean SPARTANs?” Ethan asked.

“No, actually it’s designed specifically for non-SPARTANs. It’s a hugely cheaper version of MJOLNIR armor that can be safely used by humans without any physical augmentations or training whatsoever. It’s not as good as real MJOLNIR armor, and it doesn’t have shields built-in, but it’s still light-years ahead of most armor. The only reason it hasn’t been tested yet is because of a lack of hospitable planets that would provide a significant but not overwhelming amount of variables to test it in, and the necessary secrecy. And now that we’ve found a perfect planet, the ship that was scheduled to test them thirteen hours from now is a wreck on the moon.”

“How easy would it be to reverse-engineer the suits?” Jason asked.

“I asked Emmerich the same thing. He said it’d take months to do that, but the components were cheap enough that the initial production run would cost half a million creds per each suit. Later batches would obviously be cheaper, probably going down to a hundred thousand apiece. The VANITY suits also come with a variety of accessories, to the point where they have the exact same modifications available as our suits.”

The team was almost to the hold.

“So it’s basically a high-end, next-gen armor system for non-SPARTAN personnel, and you think these thugs are here to steal it?” Ethan inquired.

The team reached the door, and took breaching positions.

“Pretty much.”

Mark slammed the door’s control panel, opening it. Ethan went in first with his shotgun, then Jason with his pistol, and Mark bringing up the rear. They kept a close eye on their motion sensors, wary of being ambushed by changelings. Mark motioned to the inventory terminal, and Jason went over to it, his teammates guarding him.

Jason searched for VANITY armor in the system’s logs, his high-level clearance allowing him to see everything there was. He spent exactly one minute twelve seconds searching before he found what he wanted.

“Okay. Says here this ship is carrying thirty of the suits, but that they were all removed from storage without authorization. Sounds like we’ve got our mystery cargo.”

***

Around the time Mark mentioned VANITY for the first time, the feed cut out. No more signal from anyone onboard the Just Cause.

“Raptor, this is Cavalia, we’ve lost your team’s feeds, confirm your status.”

No response.

“All Knife, respond! We have lost video and audio feed, confirm your status, over!”

Still nothing.

“Dammit,” Armstrong swore. “Someone, anyone, respond!”

He got his wish. The distinctive visage of an Elite officer appeared onscreen.

“You are all filth,” He began. “The gods have blessed your world with wealth and power, yet you squander your resources on foolish pursuits, worship false idols, and ignore their gifts to you! You could be travelling amongst the stars if you only searched your own ‘sacred’ sites for the true source of your so-called ‘magic’.”
Princess Celestia was enraged at these insults and blasphemies, and yelled back.
“And who are you to judge my people so harshly, and condemn us for our alleged mistakes!?”

The Elite roared with laughter, his mandibles parting as he did so. Most of the people and all of the ponies had never seen an alien this close before, never seen one so threatening or frightening before.

“I am Fleet Master Rolo’Duronee, and your planet is the key to restoring our faith. Make no mistake, you will all suffer.”

Fluttershy lay on the floor, covering her eyes and whimpering as if it would make it as hard to see her as it was for her to see anything. ‘Duronee saw this and chuckled.

The transmission cut off.

Still no word from Knife team.

***

“Well then,” Mark began, “If Black Mamba PMC has those suits, we’re up shit creek.” He activated his comms, and tried to contact Cavalia. “Cavalia, this is Raptor. We’ve found evidence that the Black Mamba PMC has stolen all thirty suits of VANITY armor that were stored onboard. How copy?”

He didn’t hear anything but static. Suddenly he realized something.

The only time I get static like that is if we’re being jammed by Covenant!

Mark motioned for his team to move back, and get out of the hold. He activated the short range comms, which he knew for a fact the Covies couldn’t jam.

“All units, we have Covenant forces inbound! All units aboard UNSC Just Cause, fall back to the hangar! Repeat, Cov-”

An explosion rocked the ship, as the belly was ripped open by a plasma charge. The ship was now venting atmosphere, and several more explosions thundered from various points in the hull, creating more breaches.

“God dammit!” Ethan swore.

Another blast tore a hole in the floor of the cargo bay, twenty meters away from where Knife team was standing. The blast didn’t injure them or damage their shields, but that wasn’t what worried them. It was explosive decompression that did that.

Mark’s weapons were slung moments before the bomb detonated, leaving both hands free to grab whatever he could. He grabbed onto a pipe and held on as tight as he could, but the suction was greater than the object’s strength, and it broke under the enormous pressure.

Ethan grabbed Mark’s wrist, saving him from being sucked onto the surface of the moon. Jason in turn held Ethan’s wrist with one hand, and a structural support with another. They held on for dear life, knowing that outside was at least one squad of Elite Rangers, and that they wouldn’t be able to react fast enough to beat the waiting aliens if they flew onto the lunar surface.

A few seconds later, the decompression stopped. Knife team readied their weapons as fast as they could, desperate to survive the coming onslaught. They fled the bay, and headed towards the engine room, anxious to accomplish their objective.

They came around a corner to see an Elite decapitate a marine with its energy sword and eviscerate another. The alien turned its attention towards Knife team and charged. He seemed to have a friend, because another Elite popped out too.
Mark activated his gauntlet-mounted energy sword, and swung upwards and to the right, creating a four inch deep wound in first the alien’s torso. He followed by shoving the blade straight up through the bottom of the other Elite’s jaw, boiling its brains and killing it.

“Surgeon, which way to the reactor core?” Mark asked.

“Go straight at the next hub, take the first left turn after that, and we’ll be in engineering.”

“Got it.”

Knife team proceeded to the first hub, only to be ambushed by Elite Rangers and Grunt Ultras. Their plasma weaponry ripped through the teams shields and impacted their armor before Jason put up a drop shield.

“Everyone okay? I’m green.” Mark asked. Their MJOLNIR armor could take plenty of damage before being breached, but it was still wise to make sure.

“I’m okay.”

“All aces baby.”

Their shields recharged moments later, the drop shield came down, and Knife team sprang into action.
Mark fired his grenade launcher at a wall, and the round bounced off to kill three Grunts when it exploded. An Elite closed in on him, and he swung the empty weapon’s thick barrel at the creature’s skull. It hit squarely on the jaw, breaking its shields, helmet and jaw. The dead Ranger fell to the ground slowly in the low gravity.

Jason swapped his own assault rifle for the dead Elite’s plasma repeater and opened up on the group flanking them from the other side. Coordinated fire from Knife team tore through shields, metal, flesh and bone; the attackers had just joined the thousands of souls who’d made the mistake of attacking a SPARTAN.

When Knife team reached the door to engineering less than a minute later, the door was locked shut. Mark motioned for Jason to hack it open, and Ethan to take up a defensive position with him.

“Looks like someone tried pretty hard to lock this down…” Jason stated.

“Can you hack it, or do we need to blow it? That’s what I need to know.” Mark said, half replying, half demanding. He and Ethan were still watching the hallway.

“Systems are all intact, no obstructions; I can hack it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m already on it, I just thought you should know.”

“Oh, sorry,” Mark chuckled.

“No problem.”

As if on cue to the end of their exchange, changelings and several Mambas swarmed into the second-nearest hub from one path, and Covenant entered from another; both paths were perpendicular to the one Knife was on, which gave them a good side view.

Ethan and Mark were about to fire when they noticed that the changelings and Covenant were attacking each other.

The insectoids ripped the masks off of Grunts and slashed at the shields of Elites. Likewise, the unique purple projectiles of needlers impaled changelings and shattered shortly after, causing devastating wounds. Changelings took down the shields of an Elite and dug their fangs into the soft areas of its armor.

Plasma scorched and boiled chitin. Fangs and claws tore flesh. Crystalline projectiles impaled their targets, digging into meat and bursting in a supercombined explosion moments later. Bullets pierced armor and bones, the slugs shredding organs and muscles alike.

A minute later, a few Elites stood victorious, but oblivious to the danger that lurked less than fifty meters away. Mark rewarded the winning assembly the same prize he gave all oblivious enemies; death. He launched a grenade at them, and when it exploded the EMP zapped away their already weakened shields, and the pressure wave of the blast killed them.

“Done yet?” Ethan asked.

“Just… About… Done!” Jason replied.

“All right, check your targets, watch for crossfire. We don’t know who or what’s in there.”

Jason switched back to his pistol from his plasma repeater, Ethan to his assault rifle, and Mark to his DMR. Mark counted down to the opening of the hatch with his fingers. When he made a fist, Jason opened the door. Knife rushed in.

***

“I don’t get it, why are we still seeing the fuzzy stuff on that screen?” Pinkie inquired.

“It’s static. We still aren’t getting anything from their end.” Armstrong answered.

“Are they okay?” Fluttershy asked.

“I have no idea.”

Worry was on everyone’s face, the ponies’ included.

Twilight Sparkle, who had found herself furious at Mark hours earlier, was now worried for his safety, the same as she had already been worried for the rest of Knife team and for the people onboard the ship. She had forgiven Mark for his earlier half-truth about her brother, although she resented that she had forgiven him so easily.

“If you need to use the restroom, you might as well do it now…” Armstrong said dejectedly. A few ponies and humans obliged. It didn’t seem like there’d be anything happening while they were gone.

***

It was empty. The whole room was devoid of people or Covenant or changelings. Displays flickered, all of them sharing a single dwindling power source.

Jason walked over to a panel that controlled the engines.

“Ain’t this the way that 117 destroyed the first Halo? This seems like it’d be a bit too powerful,” Ethan said, voicing his concern. Just like most surviving SPARTANs, he’d read the reports on how John-117 had destroyed the Alpha Halo; he had clearance.

“Yeah, but the Pillar of Autumn had bigger, heavily modified fusion reactors, remember? This boat uses regular old frigate reactors. I already ran the numbers when we were on the bird, just in case. When she blows, she’ll put out around three megatons; relatively low yield, but it’ll vaporize this whole ship no problem,” Jason responded.

“How long to set her to blow, and how long’ll we have?” Mark asked.

“Give me two minutes, and we’ll have a ten minute window. Give me three, and we’ll have fifteen. You might want to check in with the marines first.”

“I was just about to; I wanted a number to give them.” Mark keyed his comms, and tapped into the mission frequency. “This is Raptor to all marine fireteams operating in the Just Cause; if you’re still there, give me a sound-off, casualty assessment, and state your proximity to the hangar.”

“Fireteam Alpha reporting in; five out of five A-OK, we’re all in the hangar. An Elite got in and wiped out all of Delta, but we got the split-lip.”

“This is Bravo plus one Charlie in tow. We’re five outta five, but most of Charlie is KIA; last guy’s got mild wounds, but it’s just blunt force trauma, so he’ll be okay. ETA one minute.”

“Echo here, we’re down to three out of five. Foxtrot got swarmed by bugs like us, but they’re all KIA. We need about three minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Boss, how long do you want?” Jason asked.

“Seven minutes, silent countdown until two. Can you do it on the dot?”

“Uh, give or take a few milliseconds. It’ll take me two minutes to get it that low.”

“Make it so.”

Mark waited the two minutes by the door, same as Ethan.

“Okay, we’re set to blow!”

Knife team booked it out of the room, and into the hallway.

“All remaining UNSC forces onboard the Just Cause, the ship’s reactors are set to blow! We have seven, repeat seven minutes until the core detonates with a yield of three megatons; you do not want to be here when it does!”

***

“Got it! We’re back up people!”

The command center cut through the jamming just as Mark ordered the sound-off. It was then that they realized how bad their team had it; almost half of them were dead, they were going to nuke the ship, and Covenant were on board and killing everything in sight.

They watched as Knife team fought off a large amount Covenant and CM forces on their desperate dash to the hangar. Numerous times their shields went down and they took enemy fire, only to persevere through it all. They were pinned just as often, costing them even more time.

***

“Two minutes until core overload; please evacuate..”

“Fuck!” Ethan exclaimed.

“We need to pick it up people!” Mark yelled.

Knife team moved as fast as they possibly could to the hangar. When they got there, they had to cycle through the airlock, which ate up another forty-five seconds.

“One minute until core overload; please evacuate.”

The airlock cycled open, the depressurization complete.

“Hold the birds!” A marine yelled.

Knife team sprinted to the Pelicans, and leapt into the bay of the nearest one.

“All units, this is Raptor; get these birds moving now!”

The Pelicans lifted off, their thrusters flaring with heat. The two dropships pushed their engines to the limit, reaching 800 kilometers per hour in mere seconds.

The survivors waited for what seemed like an hour for the ship to explode, before they realized that they were at a safe distance. This time there was no cheering or laughter, just silent relief.

A few hours later, the Pelicans landed at Cavalia Joint Service Base. It was good to be back on solid ground.

Start Spreadin' The News

It had been more than four months now. Four months since Knife team had escaped that ship, four months since they’d rescued Shining Armor and Cadence from changelings and Mambas, four months since they’d stopped an attempted coup by Covenant remnants, four months since the UNSC had made peaceful first contact with Equis.

A lot had changed in those few months. Almost a hundred million humans migrated to Equis, mostly Equestria. Shining Armor had come out of his coma, and resumed his duty as captain of the Royal Guard. The UNSC had sent a few more ships to the Eagle Sword fleet that still fought with the CM forces and Covenant remnants in the Equis system; they hadn’t made any real progress, but there hadn’t been any major attacks either.

It was a hot October afternoon in Bittery Park, where Colonel Mark Thompson and Twilight Sparkle were starting an interview for the widely read and respected New Yoke Times. When the Times offered to interview Twilight a few weeks earlier, she wrote a letter to tell Princess Celestia about it, and she requested that Mark go with her as a bodyguard.

Then the Times caught wind of that and requested to interview him as well. Mark cleared it with his superiors, who authorized him to answer any questions posed at his discretion; they trusted him not to divulge any classified information.

Mark wore military issue woodland camouflage fatigues with the sleeves rolled up, he also had grown his hair out somewhat long, as well as a beard; he hadn’t had much time to shave during the continuous stream of operations he had been assigned. Emmerich claimed he looked “like Naked Snake, but with darker hair, a tan and brown eyes”. Being in a civilian area, he wasn’t wearing any armor either; the only protection he had was a combat knife sheathed on his belt.

“Okay,” Their interviewer, Flank West, began. “Ms. Sparkle, I understand you were present for several major events during the beginning of this conflict.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You were also among some of the first ponies to see the Covenant. What was that like?”

“Well, it was pretty scary actually. It was almost as scary when the humans fought back. I’d thought them to be peaceful, but finding out they’d been at war with the Covenant for thirty years was a shock; I thought that since they wanted peaceful relations they were a peaceful race.”

“You’re known around Ponyville and Canterlot as a bookworm; don’t you think that could’ve been the result of idealism about alien life?”

“I-I-Well-I suppose so…” Twilight was visibly flustered at this question.

“All right. Colonel Thompson, there is a small but growing group opposed to any human presence on this planet for any reason. What would you say to them? ”

“Well, let’s say for instance, that both the good humans who make up over ninety-nine percent of our population and the bad humans that make less than one percent leave. That leaves your planet, which lacks a unified government or military, to fight off a fleet of Covenant starships. Nothing you have can beat them.”

“Are you sure? I mean we have nuclear weapons.” The reporter seemed to curious now.

“Let me tell you something. The most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated on your planet was a mere ten megatons. The average human nuke at this point is thirty megatons, and that is more often than not insufficient to crack the shields on their ships. Humanity was outmatched when we fought them, and our entire race would’ve been exterminated if the Covenant hadn’t had a civil war.”

“Twilight, you’ve got a very close relationship with Princess Celestia what can you tell us about her?”

“Well, she’s actually much more approachable than you’d think. She’s kind and friendly, and very caring. She’s practically a second mother to me.”

“Colonel, what’s it like travelling through space?”

“Not as wondrous as you’d think, or at least not in the military. The food’s decent, showers are short, and the recreation onboard the ships is fairly barebones. Plus you get desensitized after a while, take it for granted, and focus more on the danger out there. Of course, I could just be juxtaposing my own opinions on the whole of the UNSC, so you should probably take what I said with a grain of salt.”

“I see. Tw-”

A massive crash cut off the reporter. Smooth, bulbous aircraft emerged from the bay, and headed towards the city. The source of the sound seemed to be a cruise liner that was headed into the harbor; it had been flipped as half a dozen Phantoms emerged from under it.

“Shit, Phantoms! Everypony down!”

The aircraft opened its side bays partially, and a flurry of plasma bolts scorched the park, scoring hits on several civilians. They died almost instantly, the heat from the plasma flash-vaporizing their blood and bursting their veins, as well as causing fourth-degree burns on the impact points.

“Come on, let’s move! We need to get to cover!” Mark barked.

Confused civilians panicked and scattered, dominated by fear of whatever had just attacked. The park was dominated with their cries.

“Mommy! Mommy! Wake up Mommy!”

“Oh dear Celestia, what’s happening?”

“Aliens, run!”

“What's going on?”

Mark produced a chatter from his fatigues. He needed backup fast.

“Emmerich, what’re the nearest allied bases? Human, pony, anything!”

“There’s a UNSC outpost just three hundred meters north of your postion, and there are several more throughout the city. There’s also a large Equestrian military base twenty-three kilometers west of Manehattan, with a pair of battalions totalling around twelve hundred UNSC Army personnel and five thousand Equestrian soldiers stationed there, as well as UNSC and Equestrian aircraft on-site. What’s going on down there?”

“Covenant forces are attacking the city. I don’t know why, but they’re here, and they’re just- Just coming out of the water! Get the word out, I have a visual on at least-Jesus!”

A Scarab emerged from the water, destroying a suspension bridge as it did so, which in turn created horrible noises of groaning metal and snapping cables. It crawled its way into the city streets, crushing any obstacle in its path. The walker maneuvered without any problem into the city streets and fired its main cannon, carving a hundred-meter-long ditch. Phantoms trailed it, and a Covenant DPV-class heavy destroyer dropped out of slipspace just over midtown.

“Okay, I can’t even count them now, and a goddamn Scarab just joined the party, a destroyer too! Get backup here ASAP!” Mark finished.

“I’m on it. I’ll tell the brass and have them get boots on the ground,” Emmerich replied, urgency apparent in his voice.

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked, visibly terrified.

“We’ve got the bad luck to be here during an invasion, that’s what.” He decided to try and rally the survivors in the park. “If you’re still breathing, follow me! There’s a UNSC outpost north of here!”

His yelling had the desired effect, and his uniform added to the authority he tried to project. He ran northwards, his neural implants indicating the position of the outpost and superimposing it on his vision. This essentially gave him a barebones HUD; it’d show the same things his armor would show him, except a motion tracker, wound severity and shields. He could turn it on and off as often as he wished, whenever he wished, instantly and without consequence, so he could focus on a given task such as sleeping. In this case he had opted to leave it on during his stay in the city, reasoning that he might have trouble finding his way around the city otherwise.

When the small crowd reached the outpost, the eight or so soldiers there were practically handing out weapons.

“Anypony who knows how to fire a gun, step forward! We’ll give you whatever we can spare. If we’ve got armor that can fit you, we’ll give you what we can.” A corporal yelled. About a dozen ponies stepped forwards, and three humans. When Mark strode towards the small building, the noncom saluted and motioned him inside. He stopped West and Twilight however.

Inside the structure, a sergeant greeted him with a weary smile; he’d picked the wrong night to be sleepless.

“An officer!” He exclaimed, saluting as he did so. “Sergeant Ahmed Abdullah, sir. My post isn't equipped to take on a Covie invasion force, or to equip a resistance. I suppose we’ve got enough to handle a platoon of CMs, but we can’t hold this position without backup.”

“I just contacted the folks in orbit a minute ago, they’re scrambling UNSC and Equestrian forces from a base twenty-three klicks west of here. Right now, I need armor and weapons.”

“Right this way.”

Sergeant Abdullah led him to the small armory, where Mark geared up. He strapped on kneepads and slipped on an M52B torso armor piece, forgoing shoulder pads, thigh protection and a helmet, but only due to the absence of those items in the armory. He then grabbed a loaded M6G pistol and ten spare magazines. There weren’t any other guns left besides the sidearms, so he had to settle for the magnum. He would make it work.

He also grabbed a throat microphone and earpiece, which he hooked up to his chatter, and four M9 fragmentation grenades. Mark strapped on a backpack with three days’ worth of supplies, and strolled out of the building, his pistol holstered. Twilight was waiting for him, and looked anxious.

“Colonel, I have news, good news, and bad news,” Emmerich began, patching into Mark’s makeshift radio. Mark put his hand on his earpiece to keep out extra sound.

“The news is that most of the Covenant are deployed in Canteral Park and uptown, and that most of the chaos downtown is CM forces. The good news is that the Equestrian base I mentioned earlier, Dovah JSB, is scrambling its aircraft to establish a no-fly zone over Manehattan. They’ll cover the advancing Royal Equestrian Army forces. The REAF jets should be there within a few minutes, and REA forces within an hour. The bad news is UNSC support will not be able to deploy in large numbers; most of the UNSC personnel at Dovah are being sent to counter a Covenant attack in Caneighda. They’ll be able to spare about four hundred troops at most, plus vehicles. Those forces will take about twenty-four hours to prepare, but several platoons of ODSTs are being dropped in as we speak to ease the wait.”

“Fuck! They expect us to repel two invading forces with just that?”

“I’m sorry Colonel, but things are getting hectic up north and we can’t organize a response any sooner than that.”

Mark sighed. “Acknowledged,” he replied before cutting the link.

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked.

“Well, the REAF is a few minutes out, the REA is an hour out, ODSTs are dropping into our area to buy time, and we’ll only get about four hundred UNSC troops who won’t even get here for twenty-four hours. In short: we’re fucked.”

“Do you really think we’re in that much trouble?” Twilight asked. She trusted Mark’s judgment, but she also hoped that he was simply exaggerating.

“Well, maybe not that much trouble, but-”

Mark was cut off by the sound of Banshees in the distance. He saw the insect-like aircraft fire a barrage of plasma at the crowd, and drop fuel rods on them; he tackled Twilight to the ground, attempting to shield her from any potential harm. The plasma bolts impacted six meters away, but the heat could still be felt from where they were.

“Okay,” Mark corrected himself. “Maybe we are in that much trouble.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw a grey dot approaching rapidly from the west. In mere seconds it passed over them, and grey streaks struck multiple Banshees, destroying each of them.

“Maybe you should stop talking about how deep we’re in it,” Twilight suggested with a weak smile.

“I was just about to say that,” Mark concurred. “We need to ditch this place, we’re too damn exposed.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going. “Are you proposing that we go into the city?”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very good idea…”

“We have two choices. Number one: we stay in this park and wait exactly twenty-three-and-a-half hours for the full extent of our backup to arrive, hoping for both a victory that seems unlikely given the known factors and for mere survival in this poorly defended area. Number two: we leave behind the false sense of security of this park and go down into the rabbit hole. Both choices are inherently risky, but in one of them we can find shelter and other soldiers.”

Twilight sighed deeply, realizing he had a point. “Fine, I suppose we should try and find someplace to hide.”

Mark patted her on the back and smiled. “Glad you agree.”

The two of them walked briskly toward the park’s exit, where they would be able to get to the city itself. They could see the smoke coming from midtown from where they were, and the smells of smoke, ash, and dust permeated the air.

When they reached the exit, the streets were blocked by rubble, effectively halting them. The rubble was covered in sharp objects, precluding the possibility of simply going over it.

Twilight smirked at Mark. “Any more bright ideas?”

Mark didn’t respond, instead he walked over to a sewer grate. It wasn’t a metal manhole leading to a deep underground sewer filled with unsanitary horrors; it was to access a sort of upper sewer where rainwater and other things from street-level would collect. There was a small padlock on the grate, holding it shut.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea,” Mark replied with a grin. He drew his combat knife, and smashed the padlock with the butt of the knife, causing the grate to fall open.

“I’m okay with getting a little dirty, but going in a sewer, I don’t know…”

“Relax, it’s not the part that all the toilets flush to; it’s the one that catches rainwater and lost coins and the occasional piece of jewelry.” Mark dropped into the sewer, falling all of three meters. “It’s only about ten feet, and I’ll catch you!”

Reluctantly, Twilight leapt into the sewer, and into Mark’s arms. He caught her without any problem, and set her down. The water in the sewer was shallow, only an inch deep. The smell was milder than expected too; the only bodily waste products would likely be from runoff from pets that had been walked.

“You’re not planning on staying in the sewers, are you?” Twilight asked.

“Hell no. We’re not heading to the subway either; that’d probably be the first place people would take shelter, and it’d be crowded. What we’ll do is head back to the apartment we were staying at, which isn’t too far from here. Then we’ll stay there until we figure out how the hell we’re getting off this island. Sound good?”

“Okay. We need to plan our next actions, so I can go with this as an interim measure,” Twilight consented, nodding.

Mark drew his pistol and proceeded down the tunnel.

***

Ship Master Naso ‘Refumee observed the excavation from the bridge of his heavy destroyer; the Fleet Master had entrusted ‘Refuumee and his vessel with the command and coordination of the invading forces, even though not all of them had come from his ship.

He was lucky to have a ship at all; his elder brother had been the leader of a large congregation of heretics situated in a gas mine, and he had been raised alongside him by the same uncle, as Sangheili tradition dictated. This shame bore heavily upon his shoulders, and many judged him to be to unreliable based solely on his brother’s heresy; despite this, Fleet Master Rolo ‘Duronee had personally witnessed ‘Refumee’s devotion and skill and promoted him to the command of a ship after the fall of High Charity to the Flood.

In a show of loyalty and gratitude, ‘Refumee followed ‘Duronee even after the Fleet Master had had a falling out with the leaders of the Sangheili military. He was one of the first disciples as ‘Duronee sought to recreate the Covenant, and thus became one of the Fleet Master’s most trusted followers. Because of his startlingly vast knowledge of Forerunner technology, he was often sent to command operations where such technology was involved.

This was one such operation. The creatures that built the city below, disgusting in their current cultural similarity to the humans, had unknowingly built atop an installation that was built by the hands of both Sangheili and Forerunner over a hundred thousand years ago, before the Forerunners completed their ascension to godhood.

Below him, multiple Locust mining platforms and a single Scarab dug up the fertile park that lay in the center of the metropolis. Already, a few points could be seen of the ancient structure, the elegant angular architecture of the Forerunners evident under the dirt that clung to it.

***

Hours later, Mark and Twilight had reached the apartment building they were staying at for their supposedly brief visit to Manehattan. It was a modest brick building, only seven stories high. No lights inside could be seen from the streets in the recently descended night.

“Think it’s safe to go in?” Twilight whispered.

“Only one way to find out,” Was Mark’s response.

Mark opened the door, and activated the flashlight mounted on his sidearm. He surveyed the lobby, illuminating it with the weapon, and gestured for Twilight to follow him. She did so, and the pair crept forwards. Mark entered an office and opened a metal box on the wall.

“Okay, the elevators are working fine, but everything else is fried. We won’t have to use the stairs, but we’ll have darkness no matter what.”

“I can use my magic to light up the room some, will that help?” Twilight offered quietly.

“Go ahead, but don’t put out too much light; we don’t want someone just walking down the street to see lights coming from a window,” Mark answered just as quietly.

Twilight put a faint light out from her horn, and the room was bathed in a gentle purple glow. They moved to the elevators, and opened one; the doors worked fine too. The two of them entered the elevator, and Mark pushed the button for the seventh floor.

The ride took about thirty seconds, and the doors failed to open.

“Shit,” Mark swore. “Wait, hold on.”

There was the distinctive sound of Falcons in the background. The Falcon had two rotors, one on each side mounted on a nacelle; but what made it sound unique was the small jet engines that were also on each nacelle.

Mark knew that it had to be Black Mambas on the roof, as Emmerich had warned him that they had attacked southern Manehattan, and that there wouldn’t be any UNSC forces arriving like that for nineteen hours.

“Cobalt four, take point! Two and three, back him up! Five through twelve, follow them, we’re clearing this building!” Came yelling from the roof.

Mark assessed his options. They’ll probably search the elevators for trapped survivors, and they definitely won’t take kindly to us. I’m too close in to use my grenades with any effectiveness, and I can’t take out twelve armored opponents in one go of close combat with just an eight-round magazine, even if I use human shields and hand-to-hand combat. There’s still one more option, though…

“Okay, stay calm,” Mark began, noting the terror on Twilight’s face. “If we’re lucky they won’t find us, but I can’t fight them all off if they do. If that happens, they won’t be too kind to us…”

They heard a shotgun blow a door off of its hinges.

“Mark, I’m sorry about those things I said to you a few months ago. I’m glad you saved my brother, and I understand why you didn’t tell me how bad off he was. He’s alive and back to his job now because of you.”

A dozen pairs of boots advanced down the stairs from the roof.

“Thanks, Twi. I’m really sorry I got you into this whole mess.”

“It’s okay.”

They embraced, and Twilight closed her eyes, tears flowing from them. Mark pulled the slide on his M6G back a little, just enough to see if there was a round chambered. There was, and his HUD told him that he indeed had a full magazine.

“Six and eight, get that elevator open; we’re clearing out any tenants!”

Mark looked up, as if he sought approval from someone up above; he decided he wouldn’t get it, and Twilight probably wouldn’t consent either.

Two shots rang out inside the elevator, spaced a second apart.

Cloak and Dagger

Nineteen hours later, UNSC forces had finally arrived, as Emmerich had promised.

Onboard a Falcon, the SPARTAN-IIIs of Dagger team prepared to reconnoiter the midtown area, specifically Canteral Park. Enemy resistance was expected, but their first priority was to gather intelligence on what the Covenant were doing, or more specifically, what they were digging up.

They wore the same MJOLNIR Mk V (B) armor as Knife team and most of the other SPARTAN-IIIs in the Eagle Sword fleet, and like Knife team, they had dual-core armor ability modules. Objectives scrolled down their visors.

Primary: Obtain visual contact of unknown object being excavated in Canteral Park.

Secondary: Search for signs of missing SPARTAN-III LTC Mark Thompson A-217, callsign “Raptor”.

Secondary: Search for signs of missing VIP Twilight Sparkle, last seen accompanied by LTC Mark Thompson A-217.

Secondary: Assist allied forces by eliminating targets of opportunity.

The Falcon carrying Dagger team descended until it was only a few meters above the street, and Dagger team disembarked.

“Standard positions,” The team’s leader, Major Alexander Tsoukalos A-041, callsign "Raider", ordered. He took the rear, using his DMR to cover his team, pistol holstered.

“Roger,” Captain Lukas Farber B-109, callsign "Archer", responded. He took the middle position, his sniper rifle slung on his back and his assault rifle ready.

The mute Lieutenant Svetlana Rosenkova B-124, callsign “Valkyrie” affirmed with a green acknowledgement light on her teammates' visors. She took point and used a pistol instead of her shotgun, opting to maintain the flexibility the M6G afforded her.

The streets were littered with the kinds of debris prevalent in urban warfare; buses, waste matter, rubble, bodies, etcetera.
Around three minutes after drop-off, Dagger team ran into a Royal Equestrian Army platoon pinned down by CM forces. They also happened to be in the path the team was taking, making it an even smarter move to assist them.

“Dagger,” Alexander began. “Drop ‘em like liquid.”

Before he finished, Lukas had already switched to his sniper rifle and gotten a double-kill, the high-velocity armor-piercing rounds penetrating through a pair of Mambas. He picked off a few more as the team moved up to the pinned unit’s position.

The ponies had never seen SPARTANs before, but recognized them as friendlies from the mission briefing. The deep blue of Alexander’s armor was a little gaudy to them, and Svetlana’s silver and red armor even more so. Lukas’ gray armor didn’t attract their attention as much.

Alexander rushed over to one of the positions, next to a group of pinned ponies

“Fuck it, I’m not gonna look a heavily armored gift horse in the mouth,” An earth pony staff sergeant clad in dirty Multi-Terrain Pattern fatigues began. “Staff Sergeant Reigner, I’m in charge here. Those CMs are throwin’ down a shitstorm of fire on us, and we can’t fuckin’ move until they’re taken out.”

“Major Tsoukalos, UNSC Army. What’s your objective, staff sergeant?”

A rocket flew over their heads, missing them. The ponies and SPARTANs returned fire, although because of how dug in both sides were, they didn’t get any kills either. The whole firefight was a mess of blind-firing from cover and tracers flying everywhere.

“There’s a group of civilians in the Stall Street Church, and our orders are to evac them; that’s just half a klick north of here and they’re stuck until we break through. I’d appreciate some help!”

“You’ll get it,” Alexander responded. “Dagger team; we’re gonna kill those assholes, and clear a path for these troopers to rescue a bunch of civvies half a klick north of this position.”

Dagger team hopped over the vehicle wrecks they were hiding behind and charged the Mambas. They ran in a serpentine pattern, dodging enough enemy fire to close the distance without their shields dropping.

Svetlana jumped over the contractors’ cover and rolled into position behind one of them. She followed by blasting him in the back with her M45 TS, sending him flying into his allies. One of those allies happened to have been throwing a grenade when he was knocked over, and the armed grenade exploded shortly after, killing the group.

Lukas threw a grenade of his own, which killed two enemies. He followed up by hosing a squad with armor-piercing rounds, taking them out of the equation. He spotted a rocket coming his way, and activated his armor lock. The rocket exploded, creating a small mushroom cloud as it did so. Lukas emerged from the smoke and loosed a burst of fire on the attacker.

Alexander vaulted over the enemies’ cover, delivering headshots with his DMR as he did so. He smashed a contractor’s face with the butt of the rifle, and shot her through the heart. The few stragglers were dispatched with a vicious flurry of hand-to-hand combat, shattering armor and bones alike.

“Achtung, Warthog!” Lukas yelled. He pointed to an unoccupied M12 FAV, and the team headed for it. They’d be able to reach their objective in no time if they commandeered it.

“Good eye, Archer,” Alexander said approvingly.

Lukas took the 12.7x99mm triple-barreled machinegun in the back, Alexander took the wheel, and Svetlana rode shotgun. They headed towards the designated observation point.

***

“Hold up, we’ve got company,” Mark whispered. He and Twilight stayed in the shadows of a back alley, waiting for the approaching vehicle to pass. They hid behind a dumpster, facing away from the street.

They had escaped Mamba forces almost a day earlier by a risky maneuver on Mark’s part. He had used his M6G to fire two shot upwards; one to blow off the service grate atop the elevator, and one to sever one of the cables suspending the elevator. The car had plummeted downwards, its descent slowed by near-constant collisions with the walls and the cable that still held it. Mark had pried open the doors and grabbed the dazed Twilight as he rushed out of the building.

They had been moving from place to place since then, stopping only to grab some food. They’d been awake for several hours when the invasion had begun the day before, and with no time to sleep, they’d been forced to rely on caffeinated soda and energy drinks to stay moving.

“I think they’re coming back!” Twilight whispered loudly.

The Warthog that had just passed them came back, and pulled into the alley. Three pairs of boots hit the ground, and Mark readied a grenade in his left hand, his pistol in his right.

“Jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick!” Mark heard from the direction of the Warthog. He recognized the voice, and the sign of shock he’d come to know a signature of his friend.

“Alex?” Mark asked, still hiding.

“You know it!”

Mark popped out from behind cover, and pointed his pistol at him, just in case he was being held hostage, however unlikely that was. Seeing he was safe in the hands of fellow SPARTANs, he lowered his gun.

“Shit man, it’s real good to see a friendly face,” Mark said grinning ear to ear.

Twilight came out from hiding, and saw Mark clasp the blue and black figure’s hand. She smiled with relief that there were friendly soldiers here.

“Mark, what’s happening? I saw your IFF when we were driving by,” Alexander said as he looked over him. “You look like hammered shit!”

He was right, Mark looked worn out. His eyes were bloodshot, and filth caked his skin and fatigues. There was a little dirt in his hair, and he was covered in sweat from the constant motion he’d been in since the attack. He had cuts on his knuckles, arms and face from breaking and crawling through glass. His pistol was covered in grime, and the electroless nickel finish looked more like a light gray. His M52B body armor was covered in scratches and spots of filth, giving it an appearance to match the rest of him.

Twilight Sparkle was as almost as disheveled as Mark was; she certainly showed signs of wear-and-tear. Her mane and tail were messy and matted with dirt, and her coat was just as dirty. She was wearing what looked like the fatigues of a dead Royal Equestrian Army lieutenant. The uniform was torn in several places, and covered with grime and sweat. She wore no body armor.

“Yeah,” Mark said with a chuckle. “We’ve been running since the attack. I suppose it’d be too much to hope that you’re here to rescue us?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. Our job is to observe what’s going on in Canteral Park, specifically what the Covies are digging up. Our secondary objective was to figure out what happened to you guys, and it looks like we got that. But we got no way to evac you, so as much as I hate it you’re still on your own.”

“Well, fuck,” Mark swore.

“Look, there’s a significant friendly presence in Grand Canteral Station. If you can make it there, you should be able to get the fuck outta here. Now I gotta go, I’ll see you soon buddy.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Dagger team drove off.

“What was that?” Twilight asked.

“Well, that was a team of SPARTANs that’s being sent to observe whatever the hell’s going on in Canteral Park. They can’t get us outta here unfortunately, but they told me where we can go to do that.”

“And that’d be?”

“Grand Canteral Station. We get there, we’ll have one of the largest, if not the largest allied force in Manehattan protecting us, and our VIP status will speed up us getting evac’d.”

“That’s pretty far away from here,” Twilight moaned. “Heck, I don’t think I can make it a tenth of that distance.” She looked exhausted from the constant action. She wasn’t a soldier like Mark, and she was probably the least fit of her friends. She wouldn’t be able to take much more before she dropped.

“Hey,” Mark said soothingly, patting Twilight on the back. “We’ll find a place to camp out for the night soon, I promise.”
It was cloudy out, and it looked like rain. Mark looked forward to it; it had to be better than this October heat.

They walked for another block before they found a small townhouse. Outside of it was a dead UNSC Amy trooper. Mark scavenged ammunition from the body, and took the corpse’s MA37 assault rifle.

There were also a few ponies there too. The blood trail from their bodies indicated they had been moved from the house.
It started to rain, and it got very cold very quickly. The rain turned to hail in seconds, and thunder began to sound. It was real thunder, too.

The door was unlocked, and Mark proceeded in, the flashlight under his assault rifle activated. After Twilight crept in, he shut the door and turned all the locks. With the din of the hailstorm outside, neither of them heard the heavy breathing of their attacker.

A trio of pegasi tackled Mark and began to clobber him. Mark couldn’t move with all of the impacts.

Mark’s assault rifle was on the floor, and Twilight watched in horror as Mark was assaulted. Suddenly she realized what she had to do. Using her magic, she picked up the rifle, and fired it at the attackers. The armor piercing rounds devastated the crazed ponies, sending them tumbling off of Mark and into a wall. Mark pushed the bodies off of him, unlocked the door, and threw all three of them outside without a second thought.

That’ll keep their bodies from stinking up the place, and serve as a warning.

He shut the door and locked it again.

“If anypony else would like to take issue with me and my friend staying here, now’s the fucking time!”

Mark patrolled the house, making sure there were no other surprises for them. As luck would have it, there were none. The whole house was theirs.

When he returned, Twilight Sparkle was crying and vomiting on the floor. She was obviously disturbed by what she had just done, ending three lives in a mere second. She stopped regurgitating a few seconds after she saw Mark. He approached her, but she backed away, still crying.

“You-” She began, trying to articulate through her sobs. “You made me- Do this! I didn’t- Kill one alien, I killed three ponies! This could’ve been their- Home!”

“Hey,” Mark said, putting his hand out to touch her. She swatted it away with her hoof, rejecting his consolation. “If this was their house, they would’ve locked it. And those bodies out there had blood trails indicating they had been moved from in here.”

Mark got up and grabbed several pictures, presumably of the house’s residents, and showed them to Twilight. “See, these look like the bodies that were outside before we came in. And they’re earth ponies too, so you didn’t do anything more than kill ponies that had already killed the occupants of this house.”

Twilight looked at the picture, and accepted Mark’s explanation. She was still disturbed by what she did, and it showed.

“Come on, let’s find a place to sleep,” Mark said.

Because of the hail it had rapidly become freezing both outside the house and within it, and the heating unit didn’t work at all with the lack of electrical power. That meant that the bed upstairs would still be cold. Thankfully, there was a fireplace in the living room, and the owners had seen fit to prepare for fall and winter by purchasing firewood and putting it in a special room.

Mark gathered firewood and started a fire. He brought the whole mattress from the upstairs bed into the living room and set it by the fireplace; he made sure it was neat, with the sheets and blankets properly made. He motioned for Twilight to get in the bed. Twilight took off the uniform she’d been wearing and got in the bed, and Mark tucked her in.

“Aren’t you cold or tired?” Twilight asked.

“Yeah, but I’ll manage.”

“Look, I’m willing to share this bed. No funny business, okay?” She said with a weak smile.

Mark smiled back. “Okay, deal.” He took off his boots, armor, equipment, and camouflage overshirt, placing them beside the bed so he could be ready in less than half a minute if he needed to. He crawled into bed still wearing pants, socks and a brown T-shirt.

They both fell asleep almost immediately, their shared body heat and the fire nearby keeping them warm underneath the blankets. The fire lasted all through the night, and the smoke coming from the chimney was indistinguishable from the smoke in the rest of the ruined city.

***

Dagger team had finally made it to the observation point when the hail started. Ascending the building via the elevator shafts, they reached the top floor within twenty minutes. When they reached the roof, they set up their equipment.

Lukas watched the excavation through the scope of his sniper rifle, and the feed from the scope linked directly to a small terminal Alexander set up. From there, the feed was broadcast live to command centers in several bases and ships.

Half of Canteral Park had been dug up, and a garantuan alien structure lay beneath it. The architecture was distinctly Forerunner, but parts of it looked vaguely Covenant as well.

The building’s subterranean nature could be explained by the age that would be necessary for it to be Forerunner at all. In the hundred thousand years since, it could easily have been overtaken by the ground. It was also possible that it had been built underground to begin with.

This was all speculation of course, as not a single human knew what the structure was intended for.

***

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Rainbow Dash said.

“I agree, but I think I’ll like the zoo better than the airshow,” Fluttershy responded.

They were on a Pelican headed to a joint human-pony military base, adjacent to where a Many-Worlds Fair was being held. There would be a zoo featuring animals from dozens of planets, food, entertainment, and much more. Princess Celestia was footing the bill for the trip, and the UNSC had no qualms about diverting a single Pelican if they weren’t paying for gas.

To top it all off, the Wonderbolts were performing, but not on their own; performing alongside them would be the UNSC Air Force’s Thunderbirds aerobatic team, and the UNSC Navy’s Blue Hornets aerobatic team. They were all to perform independently of each other for the most part, but the finale would include an integrated performance featuring all three teams.

Jason and Ethan had been offered a chance to see the show as well, but they had been told to bring their armor and weapons. They knew this whole fair was a giant public relations event for the UNSC, and they were part of it. Despite this, they were still excited to see the fair, having never seen one before they were orphaned and trained into SPARTANs.

Suddenly, the interior of the aircraft rang with the shrill warning of a missile lock. Before anyone could do so much as swear, the missile hit the rear of the Pelican, blowing off the bay door and disabling several the engine nacelles.

“Mayday, mayday! This is Tango two-two-zero, we are going down!”

Jason spoke up. “All right, we’re going down hard. If you want to get out of this alive, do what I say.”

Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash nodded.

“Okay, on the count of three, Ethan and I are going to jump out of this bird, and we need you to follow us down. One, two, three!”

Jason and Ethan jumped out of the craft a few seconds apart, the erratic flight trajectory of the Pelican impeding their jumps. They locked their armor’s gel layer, which would allow them to survive the fall by freezing their motion. Rainbow Dash followed Ethan down, and Fluttershy followed Jason.

***

Ethan landed near a swamp, and crashed through several trees on the way down. After he hit the ground and his shields recharged, he unlocked his armor. Just as he did, he saw Rainbow Dash coming in through the hole he’d made and jumped out of the way. She crashed into the same place as Ethan, and dug a trench that stopped just short of the bog.

Her wing was twisted, possibly broken or sprained.

***

Jason landed more than two kilometers away. His landing was similar to Ethan’s, as was his descent. As Fluttershy followed him, she grazed a thorny tree, causing almost a dozen cuts across her right side.

She collapsed next to Jason.

Lost

Jason got up and surveyed the area he’d landed in. The forest was less dense than he’d expected considering the canopy’s thickness. His gear was still with him and in working order.

Good. I’m in deep and I’ll need every bit of help to-

He spotted Fluttershy.

“Oh no,” He moaned, worried about the state of his companion. He rushed over to her, and knelt by her side. There were eleven lacerations along her right side, varying in depth from just a millimeter deep to a whole centimeter deep.

The cuts on her wing were fairly shallow, which was fortunate as it would have been much more difficult to apply any treatment through the feathers. The other lacerations went from her chest to flank, and were significantly deeper.

She was clearly conscious, her eyes open, although squinted in pain. She groaned softly, the gashes taking their toll and stinging her badly.

“Fluttershy,” Jason whispered. “Stay with me alright?”

“O-Okay,” she murmured.

“Good, now I’m going to apply biofoam; that’ll sting a lot at first. After that it’ll numb the pain. It’ll seal the wound and prevent infection; you’ll be almost as good as new after I apply it.”

Jason grabbed a nearby piece of wood, and showed it to Fluttershy.

“I want you to bite down on this as hard as you can when I spread it onto the cuts, and try to be quiet, alright?” Jason instructed.

“Alright,” Fluttershy said weakly.

Jason sprayed a small amount of foam on the deeper cuts, and rubbed it in gently. Fluttershy squealed in agony and bit down on the wood Jason had given her; the foam felt like hundreds of burning ants crawling through the wound. He repeated the process with the shallower cuts as well, which stung less than with the deeper ones.

“Okay, I’m done. Sorry about the pain, but biofoam just does that.”

Fluttershy spit out the chunk of wood; the bite marks on it were surprisingly deep. She got up on all fours rather quickly, and stretched her legs. Satisfied that everything was working all right, she turned to face her healer.

“Thank you Jason, I feel much better now,” She said with a smile.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and here’s a fun fact: the name ‘Jason’ is Greek in origin and means ‘healer’. Kind of fitting, seeing as I’m fairly skilled with medicine.”

“Oh, that’s actually a rather interesting coincidence.”

Jason stood up and drew his M6G.

“Come on, we should try and find Ethan and Rainbow Dash. I have a rough idea of where they are, so we’ll work with that.”

Fluttershy nodded and followed him. She was very worried about Rainbow’s condition, and was eager to make sure she was alright.

***

“Damn it, not again!” Rainbow Dash groaned.

Ethan rose out of the water he’d landed in and looked at the source of the complaining. Dash had struck a thick tree branch when she followed him down, and injured her wing.

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“This is the same wing I broke a few months ago! Please tell me you’re not gonna keep me bedridden!” She gave him a sad look, her rose-colored eyes dominating his attention.

Ethan looked around. “I don’t see any beds to stick you in, and I ain’t carrying you unless I have to. You aren’t cut or bleeding anywhere, so infections won’t be a problem, so just try not to fly on that wing, okay?”

“Okay.” Dash said with a sigh. She moved her wing into a resting position, groaning as she did so. “Now what do we do?”

“I’ll try to contact Jason first, and we’ll meet up with him and Fluttershy. Then we’ll try to get help.” He activated his comms. “Surgeon, this is Maverick do you copy?”

“Aff-ksh-tive. I have Fluttersh-kshhhhhhhhh but she’s gonna be alright . I’ll rendezvous w-kshhhhh at grid postion seven-echo-niner. What is your status?”

“I’ve got Dash, but she broke a wing coming down. We’ll meet you there. Maverick out.”

The transmission had been patchy, but the location was understood fine; the phoenetic alphabet had been created for situations like this, where communication was unclear or difficult to distinguish, whether that be because of natural reasons or artificial ones.

“What was that about?”

“Jason and Fluttershy are alright, and they’ll meet us six klicks northeast of here. We’d better start moving now, bogs like this get dangerous at night. From what I know of the animals that live on this planet, it’ll be even more so than usual.”

Ethan inspected his weapons; his assault rifle was perfectly functional, although that didn’t surprise him, and his shotgun was in working condition as well.

He slung his shotgun over his back and began to wade through the waist-deep water. For the grounded Rainbow Dash, it was more like chest-deep, and she hated every moment of her immersion.

“This sucks,” she said.

“I like the way this sucks,” Ethan responded. “I’d have more fun if somepony weren’t whining, though.”

“I’m not whining, I’m complaining! There’s a difference! Besides, it’s not like you’ve ever broken a wing.”

“You’re right, and I’ve never broken a bone either.”

They waded silently through the water until they reached the shore. At that point, Dash shook the water off with absurd efficiency, and got it all over Ethan’s armor. The water simply flowed off of his shields, and onto the ground, leaving his black and olive armor as clean as ever; which would be not very much so.

“Hey,” Rainbow asked with a sly grin, “I know what’d make this more fun!”

“What?”

“A race. First to get to that big tree wins.” Rainbow gestured towards a huge oak tree, approximately five hundred meters away. “When I win, you carry me for an hour. If by the grace of Celestia you win, hmm…”

“When I win,” Ethan retorted, “I get first choice of sleeping spots when we reach an area we can rest.”

“Deal!” Rainbow shouted. She spit on her hoof and held it out. Ethan grabbed and shook it, careful not to hurt her. “Nice grip,” she remarked.

“Three, two, one, go!” They counted down together.

Rainbow surged ahead, leaving Ethan in her dust. Ethan picked up speed and matched her velocity in less than four seconds. Rainbow looked over her shoulder to see Ethan right on her flank.

They were neck-and-neck when they reached the halfway point. Dash conserved her energy for the final stretch, and gave it her all when she hit it. She beat him hooves down!

As if to ruin her joy, a deafening roar came from behind her. She turned to see not one but two manticores attacking Ethan. He fought them off as best he could, but they didn’t give him a chance to do anything but dodge their attacks.

Dash charged and yelled at them, hoping to distract the monsters long enough to help Ethan get away. “Hey furballs! I’ve got your flank steak right here!”

Dear Celestia that was horrible. I need to think of better lines than that!

One of the manticores went after her, and closed with frightening speed. Ethan punched the other one in the jaw, stunning them with their mouth agape. He armed a grenade and threw it into the orifice, and ran for the next manticore. The resulting explosion and shower of meat obliterated the midsection of the beast and littered the area with red paste and blood sausages.

Rainbow Dash dodged the one charging at her and bucked it in the stomach. The animal backhanded Dash, leaving her vulnerable to a finishing blow. It paused to reorient itself, exposing its head to Ethan. Ethan fired a short burst into the creatures skull, penetrating it fully and ending its life.

Ethan calmly strode towards Dash, and reloaded his rifle. “Thanks for being the rabbit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yeah you could’ve. Less awesomely, maybe.”

“Hah! Okay then, we’ve got another five clicks to go, so let’s pick up the pace, RB.”

“‘RB’?”

“R-B; Rainbow?”

“Okay, got it Eeth.”

‘RB’ and ‘Eeth’ continued their trek.

***

“You sure you don’t need to rest? I can carry you, or maybe get Ethan and Dash to wait for us,” Jason offered.

“No thank you, that’s okay,” Fluttershy responded. She seemed to be tougher than Jason had initially thought. He was beginning to see a remarkable mental resilience behind her aqua colored eyes.

The forest was getting increasingly dense. It was becoming difficult to see more than a few meters in front of them, and foliage was impeding their progress. After another hour, they came to a small clearing.

The space was about six meters in diameter, and one way in or out, with the other directions blocked by a pair of ancient felled trees. There was thick but not tall grass growing in the alcove. It was an ideal place to rest.

“Maverick, this is Surgeon, we’re turning in for the night; you might as well do the same. How copy?”

“Solid copy Surgeon, we’re resting in a hollowed-out tree for the night. On our feet at 0500?”

“You know it, Surgeon out.”

“How are Rainbow and Ethan?”

“Good. We’re leaving at 0500 hours, so get some shut-eye, okay?”

“0500? That sounds late.”

“It means five hours after midnight; the first two digits are the hour and the last two are the minute. So you can go from 0000 hours, which is midnight, to 2359 hours, which is a minute before midnight. It’s 2100 right now, so we can get eight hours of sleep between now and then.”

“Oh, okay…” Fluttershy yawned and fell asleep almost immediately on the soft grass. Jason took this to mean she was good at ignoring fatigue, which was always a good skill to have.

He set his suit to wake him up at 0440, so he could have a bite with Fluttershy before they left. He lied on his back and gazed at the stars through the large blue visor of his Security helmet until he fell asleep.

***

Ethan and Dash rested in the hollow of a large tree, safe from the elements and the local animals. Ethan still wore his gold-visored CQC helmet as Rainbow Dash leaned on him, sound asleep.

Fallen Idol (Part One)

She could hear their breathing; their heavy panting drowned out all else. Twilight Sparkle ran through a hall that seemed endless. She felt herself tiring, the corridor darkening, the pursuers closing on her. They pounced on her, and she recognized them; the three pegasi she’d killed hours before! They hacked into her flesh with sharpened hooves, and she screamed until her lungs emptied.

***

Twilight awoke screaming and sweating. Her side of the mattress was damp from sweat, and when she sat up air rushed in, cooling her off rather quickly.

Mark rolled out of bed and grabbed the M6G he’d left beside the bed. He surveyed the room, flashlight on, and determined that no enemies were present. Mark realized the problem when he looked at Twilight; she’d had a real bad dream.

“Nightmare, huh?”

Twilight looked at him guiltily. “Yeah. I’ve never hurt anypony before, much less killed three.”

She started to cry softly. Mark approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her; she looked at him and smiled weakly. Despite that she was still crying, still disturbed by the whole ordeal.

“First time is always hard afterwards. No amount of conditioning can completely block out that guilt. My first time, it was an op in a rural town; a platoon of us were sent in to take out an Insurrectionist militia. My first kill was a Caucasian male, mid-forties, balding, orange sweater and jeans; I found out at the debriefing he’d made bombs that’d cumulatively resulted in hundreds of deaths. I remember he was in my dreams for a few nights after, even though I got plenty of kills after him during that same op; I think it was the way he screamed that made me remember him so vividly. Killing doesn’t bother me anymore, but… That’s not really a good thing. The point is it isn’t weakness doing this to you; this is completely normal, and you just have to learn to live with it. Nothing I can say is gonna make this all better.”

Twilight composed herself within the next minute. It was beginning to get light out, and the fire had died down to embers. She put on the dirty fatigues she’d been wearing, and stretched her legs.

Mark put on his boots, camouflage overshirt, equipment straps and armor. He unrolled his sleeves to compensate for the drastic overnight temperature change.

“Twi? I know this is a bad time to ask given your current, uh, emotional trauma, but are you a decent shot at medium range?”

“I suppose so. My dad fought in the Vietmane War, and he taught me how to shoot when I was ten; he said I was ‘a natural’,” She responded calmly. She was suppressing the guilt she had about ending three lives the previous night, and doing a decent job at it.

“Okay.” Mark picked up the MA37 assault rifle Twilight had used the previous night, and removed the ammo counter/compass display in a few seconds. The display deactivated briefly, before switching to a fairly basic GPS functionality.

Unlike most of the MA5 series, the MA37 could have its electronics suite removed easily and without tools. Removing it took about three inches in length off of the “hump” that helped distinguish the rifle. Behind, or rather in front of the removed display was a built-in reflex sight, made to ease use of the weapon by those who lacked the UNSC military’s standard neural implants.

Mark put the removed device in with his other gear, and handed the rifle to Twilight, as well as the few magazines he had for it.

“This is the MA37, a bullpup, gas-operated selective-fire assault rifle. It has a thirty-two round magazine and fires 7.62x51mm armor-piercing rounds at six hundred rounds per minute. I recommend you use the two-round burst setting in medium-range combat and go full automatic at close-range.”

“Got it,” Twilight affirmed. She hated having to fight, but also she understood how horribly necessary it was. She used a spell on it that would allow her to stick it to her back so she wouldn’t need to actively carry it at all times, and slung the rifle.

“Good. Here’s the plan; we can cover a significant distance today, so we’ll head for the Public Library. We’ll rest there on our way to Grand Canteral Station. Just uh, let me do something before we head out.”

Mark sat down, closed his eyes and clasped his hands together.

“God, as we journey through this shattered city, protect us so that we may return to our friends. Protect the wounded and the sick and the lost, that they may feel your warmth, and that their last thoughts are not only years away, but also ones of happiness. Help the soldiers who fight for this world to prevail, so that peace may fill this world once again. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

Mark stood up, and Twilight looked at him quizzically. She was puzzled by this display, not understanding at all the purpose of his prose or of the pose he had taken when delivering it.

“What was that about? I mean, who were you talking to?” Twilight inquired, curious as to the nature of Mark’s actions and words.

“I was praying.”

“Praying? Like with some kind of exotic false religion?”

“‘Exotic’? I suppose you could say that, given that it originated on planet that isn’t yours. As for ‘false’, I’m trying not to take offense from that. I was raised in a religious household, and taught to love my neighbor as myself; I wasn’t raised by fire and brimstone religious zealots, but by kind, tolerant and devout foster parents. One of the few things I can say I have is my religion, and it’s been one of the few things that has kept me emotionally stable through my career. I can attribute my calm demeanor to temperament, training and theology.”

“Sorry about that, I’m not really religious myself, but I’m not atheistic either.”

Twilight explained to Mark knew Princess Celestia didn’t raise the sun per se, unlike many ponies who did. Rather, she was a believer of the heliocentric theory proposed by Clopurnicus centuries before. She did understand that Celestia was magically linked to the rotation of Equis, and thus was essential in the sun rising, although she did not control the actual process at all.

In fact, Princess Celestia had told Twilight this herself on her first day as her pupil. Because it was witnessing Celestia raising the sun that motivated her to be such an avid student in the first place, she was crushed at first. But as Celestia continued, explaining that she was linked to the rotation of Equis and thus the sun’s rise, Twilight was again awestruck by the notion of magic so powerful as to rotate a planet, and recovered from the emotional trauma mere seconds after it occurred.

This was actually fairly common knowledge among ponies, but many chose to believe Celestia indeed controlled the sun. Mark told her about how a few humans were religious enough to disregard scientific facts such as evolution and the Big Bang as well, but that he was not one of them. He also explained that during the time period on Earth that corresponded with the technology level on Equis, such people were even more prevalent.

Finished with their conversation, they headed out, beginning their trek. It took all day to reach their destination, but they were able to avoid combat entirely. The trip was stressful and yet boring, with nothing of note happening the whole way. Numerous times they were nearly discovered by enemy patrols, and each time they evaded detection. Needless to say, the constant stress had left them weary.

Mark and Twilight ascended the steps of the Public Library that night, weapons at the ready. They expected to find enemies, allies or civilians within, but there was nothing. Not a soul could be seen or heard or smelt or felt in the presence of the library’s litany of literature.

After finding a place to rest, Mark and Twi went to sleep. This time they kept their gear on, since there were no beds or blankets to be found. As the temperature dropped, they huddled together to share warmth, and fell asleep.
Around five hours later, in the dead of night, the sound of hoofsteps echoed throughout the library. Silently, Mark and Twi awoke and retrieved their weapons, erring on the side of caution with the new arrivals.

“He summoned us now of all times?” A male voice whispered.

“Of course he did it now; what other time could be possibly be more pertinent?” A female this time.

“She has a point. We knew they were coming. He knew they were coming,” A third voice, male. This one was somewhat gravelly.

Mark and Twilight crept into a position where they could see the speakers. A male earth pony, female pegasus, and an odd-looking changeling stood together. They tapped a series of fourteen times on the marble wall, and it opened to reveal a passageway. Moments later they disappeared within it.

Mark and Twilight strode up to the place the trio had been moments before, and looked around. There was no discernible place where a secret passage was located.

“The hell was that?” Mark asked nobody in particular.

They inspected the section of the wall that the unknown had entered; it was covered in some raised relief inscription about the ponies who had built the library. Above the inscription was an engraved eye. The inscription itself was worn on some letters; Mark took this to mean that they were the letters pressed by the group.

He tapped out the first words that came to mind when he saw the worn letters. “Semper Vigilans,” Mark muttered. Twilight gazed in wonder as the passage opened for them.

“How’d you know the answer?” A dumbfounded Twilight asked,

“I didn’t; I just knew that phrase already and it was the first thing to come to mind.”

“From where?”

“It’s the motto of the Office of Naval Intelligence.”

With that explained, Mark and Twilight drew their weapons, and crept into the fissure. Before them was a descending spiral staircase; they crept downwards, ever aware of the potential presence of unfriendly inhabitants.

They made it to the bottom of the stairs without incident. When they stepped off the staircase however, they were blinded by a sudden burst of light, and slipped into unconsciousness.

***

Mark regained partial consciousness hours later. He felt a cord tied around his wrists, and he hung from the ceiling; he was suspended high enough that he remained upright, but not high enough that he hung in the air or that he could stand up straight. He wouldn’t be able to kick his captors even if they were close and in front of him.

He felt his armor, equipment and overshirt were gone, likely taken from him while he was knocked out. There was a black bag over his head, keeping him from seeing anything. There was no doubt about it; he was a prisoner. He was trained for this; he could tolerate any physical or mental punishment they could throw at him.

“Is he still alive?” A dry, raspy voice asked. Mark assumed the owner was old, a smoker, or both.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise sir,” A second voice responded, this one deeper and gravelly.

“What about her? The mare?”

“She’s fine as well. As you can see, she’s tied up similarly to the human, and she’ll be even more hard-pressed to escape given the magical suppression field and her lack of strength.”

They’re talking about Twilight…

“Wake them,” The older voice ordered.

Mark grunted and arose to full consciousness as he felt a chitinous hoof impact his stomach. He heard a likewise impact and grunt from a source he assumed was Twilight.

“W-where am I?” Mark recognized the voice as Twilight’s; she was alive and with him, wherever that was. “Get this off of me! Let me go!”

“Don’t give them anything,” Mark began, deliberately avoiding using Twilight’s name. “Not your name, not your friends’ names, not your hometown, not your favorite color. Nothing.”

“Ah, you know how this works don’t you? Judging by your records, I’d say you’re trained to handle this, Mark.” The old voice asked him. Mark was shocked that he knew his name, although he concealed his surprise.

“You know my name. You must be so proud of yourself for your superb detective work,” Mark responded sarcastically.

“Hahaha. Yes, and I know Twilight Sparkle here as well.” This time Twilight was the surprised one, although she displayed it with an audible gasp.

Mark realized that she’d never been trained or prepared for a situation like this; that would pose problems. He’d have to take the heat off her as much as possible.

“What do you want?” Mark demanded.

“I want to know how you got here.”

Mark weighed his options, and decided that he could reveal his purpose in the library, but nothing further.

“We were resting in the library when we heard some ponies. We watched them open a secret passageway, and I figured out the method of revealing it by a stroke of luck. We investigated out of curiosity, nothing more.”

“I doubt that highly. Aren’t you aware of the prophecy? The one where a certain secret society is attacked by a warrior from the skies?”

Twilight spoke. “‘A skyborne warrior and a unicorn prodigy shall smite those that lurk in the shadows of metropolis.’ Predictions and Prophecies, page one thousand twenty-one. The same book that predicted the return of Nightmare Moon.”

“Exactly! So you see, my caution is wholly justified. Now, to prevent that prophecy from becoming reality, I’m afraid I’ll have to break you both if I fail to educate you as to the beneficial nature of our Watchers’ Cabal. Spiracle! Remove their masks.”

Mark turned to see Twilight hanging in a manner similar to himself, and eyed their captors. One was a changeling, strange in that it had no holes or tears in its body, wings or horn. The other was a slate-gray unicorn, sporting a beard and a spiral of stars as his cutie mark.

“No. This is impossible. You can’t be-” Twilight said before she was cut off.

“Star-Swirl the Bearded? I’m afraid that’s the reality you face, my dear.”

Fallen Idol (Part Two)

“Star-Swirl the Bearded? But the last time anypony saw you it was over a thousand years ago! How can you possibly still be alive?”

“Twilight, there’s a lot of things magic can be used for, and immortality is one of them. Now if you’ll allow me to explain,” Star-Swirl began.

The aged unicorn cleared his throat and sat down.

“Now, the last time I was publicly seen was mere days before an expedition I had planned. I traveled to a castle in the Everfree Forest, the very one where you and you friends discovered the Elements of Harmony. At that time, there were ponies living there, but the lower levels were said to be under the influence of mysterious powers. My goal was to investigate these anomalies, and to that end I brought my most trusted students. One of them was your ancestor, Twilight; Clover the Clever. You look just like her...” The ancient mage stroked Twilight’s chin a few times, and Twilight jerked her head away in disgust.

“We discovered a structure beneath the basement of the castle; one made of angular metal and hosting a form of magic nopony had ever even heard of before. As we formulated a plan to move past the metal barrier, it opened on its own, and a voice beckoned us in. We cantered into the facility, awestruck by the projections of planets we never knew of, and the seven facilities known as the Halo installations. We were greeted by a floating metal orb with a yellow eye, calling itself 147 Adjutant Reflex; it explained to us in great detail the history of the installations, of the Forerunners, of our own planet’s fauna.”

I knew it, mythical creatures being on another planet had to be the work of the Forerunners! Mark thought.

“Reflex explained to us that Mark's race were to be the Reclaimers of the Forerunner Ecumene; but it also told us that this planet was to hold those races who would share the vast inheritance of the Forerunners with humanity. This is not our homeworld; it was colony of other species before we so much as developed the first signs of sentience. It showed us the races who had already learned from the ancient technology, and worshipped their creators as gods.”

“The Covenant,” Mark muttered.

“Exactly right, Mark! We were shown the brutality of the Covenant, the way they subjugated other races into their collective, and we resolved to prevent the forceful integration of Equis into their hegemony by any means necessary! We learned the truth about our ‘magic’, the truth behind our abilities; these abilities were not natural, they were the result of artificial means! Something that could be the result of self-replicating nanomachines passed from generation to generation, unknown to Equis’ population, allowing unicorns and alicorns to generate and control fields of energy and enabling the use of so-called ‘spells’! Or it could be something else entirely beyond our understanding. These are abilities given to us by the Forerunners to ensure that our intelligence would not be wasted in otherwise helpless bodies! With these nanomachines, or whatever is the source of our powers, even earth ponies can grasp and manipulate objects without the need for hands!”

Twilight was shocked, devastated, fascinated, confused and angry all at once as this revelation came about. The notion that the natural abilities of unicorns and alicorns were nothing but the result of mechanical objects in the bodies of the living affected her in a way that could be described by nothing short of the phrase “world-altering discovery”.

“Thanks to Adjutant Reflex, we found a way to prepare ourselves for defense against the inevitable Covenant invasion. My group used a Forerunner device to teleport to Earth, to disguise ourselves as humans, to mingle and steal their technology. We disseminated this human technology among ponykind; we worked our way into the highest echelons of power we manipulated our world to resemble that of humanity, right down to every motion picture and war and song. The unique changelings you have no doubt seen are the result of a breeding program instigated and directed by me, the goal of which was to enable important ponies to be replaced and events controlled. By doing this we created new form of safety and order on Equis!”

“The Holocaust, the Roanwandan genocide, the threats of Mutually Assured Detruction that define the Cold War? Every ounce of strife on this planet?” Twilight shouted.

“All the work of the Watchers’ Cabal, Twilight! That is why we resemble humanity so much! That is why we make war upon each other! Why we use technology clearly not meant for ponies!”

The room went silent. Almost a minute later, Star-Swirl resumed.

“I take it you are aware of the excavation in Canteral Park?”

Both Twilight and Mark nodded.

“That structure was built when the Forerunners roamed the stars, when ancient Sangheili actually existed peacefully alongside the Forerunners. It was a testament to their cordial relations before the Halos were fired, and it was built to be a beacon to any ship or device using Forerunner technology on some level. The Covenant were going to come here eventually, it was only a matter of when. That is why I have brought strife to this world; so that we would be prepared to face the alien onslaught that would come! This is why I'm detaining you; to prevent the consumation of the prophecy I mentioned earlier.”

“You knew? You knew they were coming? Why didn’t you warn somepony!?” Twilight demanded.

“Warn whom? Ponykind at large?”

“They’re here and killing us by the thousands because you did nothing to warn us!”

“That’s right Twilight, the owners are back! Waking the systems, firing up the boiler, here to spring clean the old family residence, and not much liking what they’ve found festering behind the fridge! Can you blame them, really?”

“You’re a monster!” Twilight spat at her former idol.

“I see I’ll be making no progress with you two tonight. Spiracle, do what you will but keep them alive. Oh and Twilight, I think you should know that your parents are the first in your family line to not be a part of the Cabal. Their brothers and sisters and parents and cousins are all part of it, and I'm rather disappointed that the most talented unicorn in generations isn't one of us, and neither is her brother.”

Star-Swirl the Bearded left, and the beatings began.

***

Mark’s implants said he had been captive for eight days now. It felt more like months. The irregular light cycles, sleep deprivation and inconsistent periods of time between serving meals began to take effect as was intended, all meant to diminish the prisoners’ sense of time. They made Mark and Twilight feel like they had been captives for much longer than they had.

Still they had remained unbroken. Still they resisted the efforts by the Cabal to turn them to their cause. Still they persisted in their defiance. Still they suffered.

On the eighth night of their captivity, Mark and Twi were thrown into their cell together, unbound. They were too tired to try to formulate an escape plan. After a few hours of sleep, nightmares awoke them both. They’d had enough.

“Twi,” Mark whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I heard one of the guards talking about an event they had planned for us tomorrow.”

“So?”

“I also heard him say where our stuff is stashed; if we can get to that place, we can gear up and get the fuck outta here. They also said they got a few UNSC troopers held here too, and they’re in on the event that’s planned.”

“What kind of event do they have planned that has you so sure we can escape?”

“Have you ever heard of Russian Roulette?”

Jailbreak

The next morning, Mark and Twilight Sparkle were awoken by airhorns blown in their faces. They rolled off of their surprisingly comfortable cots and fell a yard apiece onto the cold floor.

The warden, the changeling Star-Swirl had referred to earlier as Spiracle, dragged them both to a room with three other humans. Presumably they had also taken shelter in the library above. He strapped them all to modified barber’s chairs, and began a waterboarding session.

Waterboarding was a mild form of torture, commonly used by intelligence agencies. It was performed by placing a damp towel on the face of a restrained subject, and pouring buckets of water over his or her face. It simulated the effects of drowning, but caused much less damage to the subject.

After an hour or so of that, the prisoners were taken to a round table in another room. They were all ordered to take seats around the table, and Spiracle produced a revolver. He inserted a single round into one of the chambers, and spun the cylinder before placing the firearm on the table. He then spun the barrel to determine who would go first. When the rotation ceased, the barrel pointed to one of the anonymous UNSC soldiers; black, short hair and beard.

He grabbed the revolver, and held it to his head. Twilight couldn’t bear to watch, and shut her eyes.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Spiracle reprimanded her. “Eyes open, or you all go swimming again!” He was clearly aiming for the additional psychological torment of seeing a friend or ally kill himself against his will.

“Fuck, you, Charlie! Let the lady do what she wants!” The Asian man yelled back, using a mild example of the many slurs coined by UNSC personnel to refer to changelings. Many of them didn’t know that this exact same word had been used centuries before to refer to communist guerillas during the Vietnam War. “I just want this to end…” The soldier sighed.

“You don’t mean that Lance!” One of the others, a Caucasian male with short black hair and stubble yelled.
Archer pulled the trigger. The hammer drew back and fell.

The powerful magnum cartridge in the aligned chamber discharged, and the bullet travelled through barrel and brain with equal effort. Archer dropped to the floor limp.

“You fucking sonuva bitch!” The other yelled at Spiracle. The torturer simply smiled and placed a new cartridge into the weapon’s cylinder before spinning it.

“Next!” He handed the revolver to Twilight Sparkle, opting to send the gun clockwise around the table.
Twilight picked up the gun. “One shot at this,” she said to Mark.

"We'll take it," He replied.

Twilight held it to her head and pulled the trigger with her telekinesis. “Fuuuuuuuck!” She wet herself as the hammer dropped and the chamber revealed itself to be empty.

She slammed it down and passed it to Mark.

He locked to hammer back, desiring a lighter trigger pull, and held it to his head. Time seemed to slow, for him at least; Spiracle approached him after what felt like hours.

“What’re you waiting for!?” He demanded, standing just next to Mark.

“You.” Mark sprung from his chair, thrust the revolver into Spiracle’s chest, and pulled the trigger. The chamber was loaded as luck had it, and the bullet drove itself straight through the changeling’s heart, killing him instantly.

The three other prisoners leapt from their seats and headed to the equipment lockers, which were located in the next room.

“Lucky bastard,” one of the prisoners, this one bearded and wearing a bandana, said to Mark as they all gathered their possessions. They donned their armor and extra clothes, retrieved their weapons and grabbed their equipment. Twilight found a UNSC grade body armor piece made for ponies; what was more, it fit her. That meant she was just as well protected as her companions.

“Pills here, anyone feeling sore?” Twilight shouted, producing several bottles of Ibuprofen gel-pills.

They all nodded, so she tossed one to each of her companions, and they all popped a few, forgoing any liquid to take them with. Ibuprofen was a safe, over-the-counter, generic brand pain medication introduced in Earth’s 20th century, and was often known as “grunt candy” for its ability to suppress mild aches and discomforts, such as those experienced after a long hike to an objective, although they'd be less effective for recovering from torture.

"Grabbin' pills!" Mark responded.

“My name’s Lieutenant Curtis Wall, so ya know,” The short-haired stubbled one said.

“Warrant Officer Eddie Carpenter. So, what’s the plan?” The bearded one asked.

“That was the plan. Say, you have a brother or something in the ODSTs?” Mark admitted and then asked, remembering the ODST of the same name he'd fought alongside months before in Canterlot.

“Yeah, he actually made desks ‘n shit before he got drafted into the Marine Corps during the war against the Covenant. He somehow got his ass into the ODSTs. Why, you met him?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied.

“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” Wall began. “We got to the library in a flatbed Warthog, and we parked it outside; this was just a temporary rest stop as far as we were concerned. All we gotta do is get up there and hope that the ‘Hog is still there. If it is, we drive up to Grand Canteral, and stop by my girl’s place for some food.”

“Horsefucker,” Carpenter muttered.

“Eddie, are you seriously bringing this up right fucking now!? People in love with ponies are still normal people, dammit!” Wall snapped.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Wall said with exasperation.

“What do we do if your ride isn’t up there?” Twilight asked.

“Then we do whatever we have to,” Mark interjected. “We’ll cross that proverbial bridge when we come to it. Right now, we just need to get the fuck outta here.”

The group started to proceed through the long, winding passageways to their freedom. The path to the exit was clearly indicated, shockingly enough. The startling lack of resistance was even more shocking. The high point of the escape was the revelation that there was a button that opened the entrance they had gone through, and they could simply walk out.

It got better; outside the library was the Warthog they’d so desperately needed! Wall drove them through the streets to his girlfriend’s apartment, the flames of the city illuminating their way. They entered the deserted building, bringing their things with them.

Inside Wall’s lover’s apartment, they heated up some caffeinated hot cocoa using a lighter, some newspaper as kindling, and a chair as firewood to boil some water. The fire was small, but it warmed them and the cold room, as well as heating the water they used. For food, they had a few granola bars each, and took the rest to save for later.

Wall introduced his girlfriend, or perhaps marefriend, to the group. She was a light turquoise pegasus with a golden mane, and introduced herself as Helia. She was very hospitable to her guests, and cuddled with Wall while the five of them had their cocoa.

“Are you all doing fine?” She asked. The whole group nodded in response, glad to be in some semblance of safety

The makeshift radio Mark was carrying had mostly emitted generic chatter, but while the group was finishing the last of their meal, an ominous sound cut off the rest of the chatter. It was the same sound that preceded high-priority transmissions, the kind that one would most likely die from ignoring.

“Raptor? Raptor are you there?” It was the familiar voice of Emmerich.

“Emmerich?” Mark responded.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, Princess Celestia’s elite Solar Sabers were dispatched with a chemical weapon and sent to a skyscraper near your position. Celestia claims no knowledge, and that it’s the act of a rogue Major.

“What the fuck!?”

“He considers the situation in midtown Manehattan to be nearly unsalvageable. The idea is that the majority of Covenant and CM ground forces will be wiped out, and it’ll be possible to eliminate the defenses that are preventing an orbital MAC strike from destroying that ship.”

“That’s insane!” Twilight shouted.

“The deployment has already gone through, and Eagle Sword is having a tough time coming up with a counter. You need to get out ASAP; the weapon is set to be detonated next midnight.”

“Stay on the line Emmerich, we’ll figure out something,” Mark said.

Helia was crying at this point, her tears soaking into Wall’s dirty fatigues. He was doing his best to calm her, but it wasn’t enough to give her any more comfort than the notion of dying with a loved one.

“We can’t let them do this!” Twilight yelled.

“Look, like it or not, it’s the best option on the table right now. It’ll be more thorough than a nuke and have less collateral damage and lasting effects than any other form of weapon. The logic is sound,” Carpenter responded.

“How can you say that? It’ll kill hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians, and probably you too!” Helia interjected.

“I have to agree with Helia, this is insane!” Wall added.

“Look, as much as I hate to say it, I agree with Carpenter. It’s a necessary sacrifice. It’s the best option available, and the people in command would have to be brain-dead not to allow it. They’ve even got plausible deniabilty,” Mark said sternly.

“Fuck that noise! I won’t sit here with my dick in my hand waiting to die from nerve gas! I’ll stop them or die trying,” Wall responded.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lieutenant! I am the commanding officer here, and what I say goes!” Mark retorted.

“You can’t seriously be willing to let these people die! Wouldn’t you rather die fighting than lying down? Didn’t you tell me that fighting was the only thing you were good at? At least be able to say you fought for what you believed in! What do you believe in?” Twilight countered.

This gave Mark pause. He leaned against the wall behind him and looked up, clearly consumed in thought.

What do I believe in? Peace at any cost, created through hypocritical ruthlessness? Or peace created by just actions? That the end justifies the means? Or that the means justify the end? I know how the first one turns out most of the time; very badly. This attack will only create more strife down the road.

“I believe,” Mark began reluctantly. “I believe, that this is a temporary solution that’ll cause more problems than it solves, whose sum will be greater than that of the original problem this ‘solution’ is meant to solve… We have to stop them.”
Carpenter grunted a reluctant agreement, and the others showed signs of hope.

“Now according to what Emmerich said,” Mark continued. “We have twenty-five hours in which to execute whatever plan we come up with. First of all, we need more intel.” He turned the radio back on “Emmerich?”

“Yes?”

“What can you tell us about this bomb?”

“It’s a binary agent; it’s only dangerous if the two compounds are mixed, and the nature of the dispersal device means that it will only become deadly in the last ten seconds before dispersal. As for the dispersal mechanism, the compound isn’t harmed by explosions, so they’ll most likely be using a significant quantity of explosives to disperse it.”

“And the force guarding it?”

“The Solar Sabers are an elite infantry unit. They’re fanatically loyal, and excellent fighters; they almost always fight to the death, and are known to sometimes feign death when badly wounded and save their remaining energy for surprise attacks on unsuspecting enemies. As for the number of them guarding the weapon, I’d say between eighty and one hundred ten soldiers. They still use equipment and weaponry from this planet, so they won’t pose as much of a threat as say, analogue human units. Look, I know what you’re planning, and it’s crazy.”

“So? SPARTANs do crazy shit all the time.”

“Yeah, but they have help. I don’t feel like breaking with that tradition, so I’ll help you, but I can’t do much more than provide intel.”

“Understood. Do you know where we can find any extra weapons and ammo?”

“There’s an unattended cache in the third floor of your building, room 311.”

“Got it.” Mark looked at Carpenter and Wall. “Room 311, there’s a weapons cache. We’re gonna take what we can and plan the raid from twhat we get.”

Around fifteen minutes later, they were back from the cache. They had several rifles, pistols, ammo, and a bounty of explosives. Some night vision goggles, rations, cigarettes and biofoam were also in the cache. Emmerich explained the layout of the building to them during the trip.

“Alright,” Carpenter started, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. “You got a plan yet boss?”

“Most of one. There’s a power station a few blocks from the target building, it’s still running and sending power to the target. Light complement of guards, about a dozen of those SS ponies. We get in there and cut the power, by which I mean we blow the place to Hell. That’ll shut off the power to the target, and let us get inside without tripping any alarms or getting caught by cameras. Of course, any half-wit would know that cut power means an attack is coming.”

“So we announce we’re coming in and hope they don’t have night vison, magic or flashlights?” Twilight asked skeptically.

“No. We create a diversion. See those rocket launchers over there?” Mark pointed at a large crate a couple meters to his left. “We use a few of those, make our own little remote-control artillery, draw their fire. While they’re scared, blind, and under attack from two different sets of ‘attackers’, we slip in through the sewers, come up through the maintenance tunnels. From there we enter the elevators, and climb the cables up to the top floor, where the device is. We kill every tango with the misfortune to be posted on that floor as quickly and quietly as possible, and dismantle that weapon. We rappel down the side of the building, plant charges a third of the way down and get the hell out of Dodge. We detonate the charges from a safe distance, and watch as the top floors fall onto the lower floors and collapse them from the impact. The tower comes tumbling down, the weapon’s neutralized, and we get to be big goddamn heroes,” Mark explained.

Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

Later, Twilight Sparkle and Mark were in a room of their own, laying out some sleeping bags, their armor and gear off. They were silent as they did so, both of them knowing that this could be the last sleep they ever have if things went wrong the next night. Still, they knew that what they were going to do would require their best.

“Well, I can’t say I did it ‘My Way’,” Mark said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Twilight found this to be as much of a non sequitur as it was a conversation starter.

“‘My Way’. It’s a song by Frank Sinatra, about how the singer lived a full and happy life. Old song too, six hundred years or so. I only know it because Jason’s a huge Frank Sinatra fan. I hope Jason and Ethan are okay…”

“But Flank Sinatra was- Oh, right.” She remembered that her world mimicked his from centuries ago, even the popular culture. She recalled the words rather well; her father had loved listening to Flank Sinatra when Twilight was growing up. “Would you care to elaborate on that statement? I know you’re an orphan because you told me a few months ago, but you must’ve had some fun growing up.”

Mark sat down in a corner and smiled at her, giving a brief laugh.

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

“Just the public’s obliviousness to the true nature of the SPARTAN program.” Mark considered whether to elaborate as she had requested.

I guess if I can trust anyone, anypony, I can trust her.

Mark got up and closed the door. He wanted this to stay between them.

“This doesn’t leave this room, got it? I’m not allowed to tell anyone this, especially civilians. You have to take this to your grave without telling a soul.”

Twilight nodded, and took a seat; Mark did likewise.

“The SPARTAN-III program, of which I am a graduate, was the successor to the SPARTAN-II program. The SPARTAN-III program was aimed towards making large numbers of expendable supersoldiers; soldiers no-one would ever know about, who would be sent on suicide missions that were too risky for other special forces. We are all orphans in the S-IIIs; all of our parents were killed by the Covenant. The UNSC took a few hundred children, me included, our ages ranging from three to seven, and began training us to be soldiers. Years of grueling training followed by physical augmentations just as we hit puberty. Once we were augmented, we were given a gun and sent to fight in operations that nobody will ever hear of. Most of us are dead now, but those of us that have survived are no longer considered expendable. I was in that first class, but there were others; eventually thousands of SPARTAN-IIIs had been churned out. So not only am I an orphan, but my past doesn’t exist. I’ve been fighting all my life, same as any other SPARTAN; those of us who still live have decades of experience killing, and that’s why we’re so good at it. I’m thirty-six and I’ve been fighting since I was fourteen. To put it simply, I’m a child soldier still fighting the same battles I always have been.”

Twilight was shocked. She had no idea humans could be so brutal to their own children, even out of necessity. Mark told her all this and more in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. He exhibited no remorse in tone, words or expressions, which shocked her even more.

“And you still obey the UNSC’s orders, even after all they’ve put you through?” Twilight asked in a whisper.

“Yes, because it’s the right thing to do. Being a SPARTAN is an incredible burden, and I wouldn’t force it on anyone else; I wouldn’t know if they could handle it. Despite how morally wrong the program was, it was an extremely necessary evil. The whole thing makes us unafraid to die, and there’s nothing we have to live for besides the mission. That’s why I told you that when we argued months ago.”

Despite all that he said, when she looked into his eyes she didn’t see a soulless killing machine. She saw a scared and lonely man with just the tiniest bit of hope for the future. Twilight rushed to him and hugged him, as if she could erase, or at least soothe his troubles by doing so. Reluctantly, Mark hugged her back; she was soft and warm, and although her mane was messy from the constant stress of their time in Manehattan, it was soft as well.

What surprised Mark was that he felt better when she hugged him. A lot better actually; physically and emotionally relieved, although he didn’t know why.

Their fatigue finally hit them, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

***

About a week earlier, Jason was beginning to stir. The sun was just beginning its long journey across the sky, and the birds were starting their morning songs.

His suit’s alarm had woken him, and he got up slowly to find Fluttershy lying underneath a large leaf. A look of quiet contentment was on her face, accompanied by a sweet and innocent smile.

“Hey Flutters, wake up,” Jason whispered, gently shaking her as he did so.

She opened her eyes slowly, stretching her legs as she did so. Fluttershy stood up and rubbed her eyes, realizing how early it was. She walked forward to Jason, who had unwrapped a nutrient bar and given it to her.

Jason opened his own bar, after looking at the label. “Nutritional supplement; French vanilla,” it read. Just one could sustain an active soldier for twenty-four hours if need be, although it was recommended that two be eaten per day if possible, and that standard rations be consumed first.

“Mmm. These are good.” Fluttershy had been given the same flavor as Jason.

“I know, but they’re pretty expensive compared to other military food; about seventy-five credits each.” Jason gave her his canteen to drink from, and she passed it back when she was done.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I always carry a week’s worth of rations and a water purifier, so we’ll be fine.” By water purifier, he meant his suit.

Probably better if she doesn’t know she’s drinking recycled urine. Jason thought with a smile.

They headed to the place they were going to meet up with Rainbow Dash and Ethan at.

***

Ethan awoke around the same time as Jason, and found Rainbow Dash drooling on his arm, fast asleep.

“Wake up, buttercup!” He chirped, removing his arm from under her head as he stood up. Dash woke and hit her head on the wood surface of the hollow tree they’d slept in.

“Ow, that hurt! Ya coulda waited for me to wake up before ya did that, Eeth!” Dash yelled. She rubbed the side of her head, hurting from the impact.

Ethan produced a nutrient bar and unwrapped it, biting off a chunk of the chocolate-flavored food. Like Jason, Ethan carried several different flavors; chocolate, lemon, strawberry and French vanilla.

“Got some for me?” Rainbow asked with a grin.

“Sure. Chocolate, lemon, strawberry or French vanilla?”

“Strawberry.”

Ethan opened a bar and tossed it to her, and they ate them at a decent pace; neither leisurely nor hastily.

“My dad always made it sound like military food stank, but this is pretty good!” Dash said, her mouth still full.

“These bars are the exception, not the rule; they taste good and just one can sustain a soldier for a whole day, but they’re expensive compared to normal rations. And did you say your dad was in the military?”

“Yeah, Air Force, served during the Griffin Insurgency and the Itack War. Almost made it into the Wonderbolts too, but when Mom died… He just stopped caring. Put a gun in his mouth a few years after I moved out.” Her chewing had stopped almost completely, and she stared at the ground. Eventually she finished her food, but she mostly stopped talking after revealing this.

“Lotta human kids saw their parents killed in front of ‘em by Covenant, me included. Dad got slagged by a Hunter’s assault cannon, Mom was in a different compartment of an evac ship than me, got sucked out of a hull breach. You ain’t the only one with dead parents; Hell, Mark ‘n Jason are orphans too. Jason got separated from his parents and saw the ship they were on get blown the fuck apart; Mark saw his mom, dad, brother and sister killed with his own eyes. Don’t feel sorry for yourself RB, there’s people worse off than you.”

“Thanks,” Dash said, looking at Ethan with genuine gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. I ain’t usually much good with words, so it’s good to know I can help with ‘em.” Ethan put his helmet back on and stood up. “Come on, we got a lotta ground to cover today.”

The pair exited the hollow tree they’d slept in and proceeded to the rendezvous point.

***

Mark found himself in a charred forest, filled with mist, fog, smoke, or some combination of the three. He turned around to see Twilight. She was clean, happy and energetic, as though their time in Manehattan had been just a dream.

She smiled and ran away from him, laughing. Mark chased after her, although his movement seemed absurdly slow. He reached where she was standing, and she ran away again, with astonishing speed that seemed even stranger given his sluggish movement.

Mark looked around, confused. He saw her in the distance, a strange light illuminating the ground near her. Once again he ran towards her, with comically slow speed. As he ran, he noticed odd shadows that seemed to be standing on their own, whispering his name.

When he finally got to her after what felt like an eternity, she turned around. This time she wasn’t smiling. Mark reached an arm out to grab Twilight. She stared blankly at him, and began to burn. She seemed to feel no pain from the fire that spontaneously engulfed her, and just continued to stare at him.

Mark suddenly saw his own face, contorted in horror as he approached her, his arm still extended to grab her. The fire intensified, and Twilight was reduced to ash.

***

Mark woke suddenly, finding himself sweating. When he looked at his surroundings, he saw that Twilight was still asleep in his arms. He remembered what had happened earlier, and how they fell asleep together.

He leaned his head against the surface behind him, and closed his eyes. But he did not sleep.

Dreams always have meanings when they have someone, somepony you know in them. They’re a product of the subconscious. So what does this one mean?

You’re worried for her.

She's a mid-level VIP under my protection. Worrying is natural.

It's more than that. You care about her. You love her.

No. Bullshit. Not possible. Not a snowball’s chance in the hottest depths of Hell.

It was forming when you risked your life and others’ to save her brother.

No, I did that because it was strategically and politically prudent.

What do you think that feeling was when you hugged each other just hours ago?

Body heat. Pheromones. Endorphins.

You just try to shrug everything off with unfeeling logic. You’re human, admit it! If you were really so cold and logical, would you be religious?

Religion and science are not mutually exclusive. Being in love and being a SPARTAN are.

And yet here you are, arguing with yourself, trying to rationalize away something that you admitted you want, something reciprocal. Love.

She’s a purple unicorn! It’s bestiality!

She’s a saptient being capable of complex thought and using tools. And she’s smarter than a lot of humans too. It’s not bestiality.

The last thing I need is a distraction.

Plenty of soldiers have loved ones.

And plenty of soldiers are dead too.

You know that has little to do with their deaths.

SPARTANs don’t fall in love.

And you know for a fact that among the hundreds if not thousands of other SPARTANs you’re the first to fall in love?

I’m not in love!

Yes you are. Admit it. Accept it. You’ll be better for it.

I can’t be in love! It’s not possible for me to- Oh my God. I am in love!

Doesn’t that feel better to accept it?

But nothing good could come if she loved me back. She’d only get hurt when I die, and I’d never be able to be with her. I’d never be able to give her the time she deserves…

You’ll find a way. SPARTANs always do.

“Mark? Are you okay?” Twilight asked quietly.

Mark realized he was crying silently. He’d never cried since he’d been evacuated from Biko decades before. He noticed some of his tears had fallen onto Twilight, which must’ve been what woke her up.

“I’m fine,” he responded softly.

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

“I-”

Why lie to her?

There’s no need to complicate things with your feelings.

“You what?”

“It’s nothing,” Mark lied, looking away.

They went back to sleep, crawling into their own sleeping bags. Darkness would fall in about twelve hours, and it was going to be a busy night.

Showtime

At seven PM, Mark spoke to the two soldiers and one civilian he had available to him for this operation.

“Gentlemen, the clock stops in five hours. If we succeed, by that time the whole God-damned target building will be a pile of rubble that will put the fear of God into any being stupid enough to fucking think of committing a terrorist act like these rogue Solar Sabers are. If we fail, then any of us with the misfortune to survive will have the solemn duty to euthanize any human or pony still alive and suffering. Understood?”

Carpenter, Wall and Twilight all nodded; they grasped the severity of their situation.

“All right, let’s roll.”

The four of them had their equipment ready, and they proceeded to their objective, exiting the building they’d stayed in. The trek was short and uneventful, and they set up the decoy rocket launchers at the positions they had planned, rigging the remote firing mechanisms to them. The trip to the positions and setting the decoys took an hour total.

Four hours to midnight.

From there they proceeded to the power station. It was already very dark despite the early hour, with the smoke blocking what looked like a full moon. The area of operations had literally heated up, enough that the team had to roll up their sleeves to cope. They kept their newly-acquired gloves on, since it’d be easier with them on when they had to climb later.

“The fuck is with this weather? Yesterday it was colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra, and now it feels like a damn jungle,” Carpenter complained.

“Probably Covie plasma fucking up the weather system up north; I’d say the op that kept us from getting more backup isn’t going too well. Or they blew a Covie ship in the same area and the reactor going critical glassed several square miles. I can see either of those messing up the whole region’s weather,” Mark explained. He knew from experience the effect that a single Covenant ship could have on the weather if it glassed an area or exploded. “With any luck, the guys up north blew an attacking Covenant ship and turned the area into a glass wasteland.”

“Target in sight. I see three guards in the south side of the substation, none in overwatch positions,” Wall reported.
Mark checked his weapon. His M392 DMR had a suppressor attached, so he would be able to eliminate the guards stealthily at range. Up close, the suppressor would sound like a loud hand clap.

Mark took aim and dropped the three guards in as many seconds. They hit the ground, the resulting noise no louder than the noise of the substation itself.

“Move up,” Mark whispered over the radio. His team obeyed, and they entered the substation silently. “Wall, Carp, plant on the west side; Twi ‘n me will take the east. Go.”

They hid the bodies afterwards, desiring to avoid setting off any alarms.

Twilight was wielding an MA37 assault rifle with a suppressor attached; it had the same effectiveness as the one on Mark’s, although the shorter range would diminish the advantage somewhat. Still, the noise the strained power nodes made would drown out the sound of their weapons.

Twilight stopped, and pointed to a lone guard pony near their objective. Mark had given her a crash course in the skills she’d need for the op a few hours ago. He also told her to let him handle any close encounters if possible.

Way to go, you’ve turned her into a professional killer like you.

I did what I had to. It was either teach her to kill or let her get killed.

Mark crept up behind the pony, took a firm hold of its head, and twisted it quickly. The pony’s neck snapped, and his head was stuck facing backwards. He dragged the limp body into a locker.

Twilight Sparkle moved up to Mark’s side, and Mark took a charge from her backpack. He hid it in a nook near a control panel and a power node, and set the charge to be remotely detonated. The explosive he planted would probably be able to level the building and accomplish the objective on its own, but “probably” wasn’t good enough given the nature of their mission. They needed certainty.

“This is Team One, we’ve planted the charge,” Mark whispered into his comms.

“Team Two, charge planted,” Wall responded.

“Copy. Exfil and head to the rendevous.”

Mark and Twi covertly left the building, and headed north to the RV point. It took twenty minutes for them to reach it without being discovered, but when they did reach it, Wall and Carpenter were waiting for them. They could see helicopters overhead, buzzing about the exterior of the building. They opened the manhole to the sewer, dropped in, and closed the manhole behind them.

The sewer stank of decay, probably a result of the sanitation plant being abandoned during the invasion. They stayed on the small walkways where possible, but they had to trudge through the muck eventually. It seeped into their boots, soaking their socks with a horrid filth that would require them to change socks as soon as possible. For Twilight, there was nothing protecting her hooves from the sludge.

They soon reached the maintenance tunnels, which would allow discreet and direct access to the building itself. At that point they wiped the mud from their boots and hooves, and changed socks where applicable. They didn’t want a trail of sewer scum to give them away, or a matching stench.

“Okay, I’m blowing the substation in thirty seconds, and beginning the decoys’ firing sequence a minute after that. Thirty seconds after the first rocket hits, we move in. The decoys will fire two rockets every twenty seconds, so we’ll have two minutes of rocket fire totaling twelve rockets. We need to be in the elevator shafts by the time the firing stops. From there we plant charges on the tenth floor at key load bearing columns; we’ll have to do it before we disarm the bomb instead of after like we planned, because of the helicopters watching the outside.”

Ten seconds later, he began the first diversion. They could hear and feel the faint rumble of the explosion from where they were, as the substation was blasted into nothingness, taking the guards with it.

A minute later, he set off the decoys’ automatic firing sequences. They would now fire at the intended intervals on their own, with no input necessary. A few moments later, the first rocket hit, and they began counting down to entering the building.

“Go,” Mark whispered after what felt like an eternity.

Carpenter began climbing the ladder up, Wall followed him, and Twilight jumped onto Mark’s back as he brought up the rear. They entered a cramped room, filled with pipes and valves. Sealing the entrance behind them, they drew their weapons.

One by one they stepped out of the room, weapons ready, only to find the hallway they entered was empty. They proceeded slowly, avoiding making the slightest sound. They could hear weapons firing upstairs, almost certainly at the faux attackers.

Good, the decoys are working.

They reached an elevator. Mark holstered his rifle, and began to pry the doors open using his augmented strength. It took several seconds, but the doors opened.

The team entered the shaft, and Mark closed the door behind them most of the way. They hooked up their rappelling harnesses to the cables of the elevators, and began the long climb.

It took them fifteen minutes to reach the tenth floor, where Mark again pried open the elevator door. When he opened it, there were two guards looking at him. Before they could fire, Mark’s team shot them, their suppressed weaponry ripping the ponies into chunks.

They all exited the shaft, and proceeded to their assigned positions. They planted the bombs on the supports without incidents of any kind. After that, they regrouped by the elevator shaft and hooked back up to the cables.

They climbed to the fourteenth floor, one short of their objective. It would be too dangerous to assault them while opening an elevator door by hand and unhooking from harnesses, so they were going to attack from the stairwell.

They entered the staircase from their level and proceeded upwards. When they reached the door to the fifteenth floor, they unscrewed their silencers and stacked up. Carpenter was in front with his M45 Tactical Shotgun, then Wall with his MA37 assault rifle, followed by Mark with his M392 DMR and Twilight in the rear with her assault rifle.

Then something happened they hadn’t planned for; the electricity came back on. With it came music, light and air conditioning.

“Fuck,” Carpenter said in a loud whisper. “Do we go on boss?”

“Seeing as cutting the power was meant to aid infiltration, and we’re at the target location now, we keep going and stick to the plan. Too late to turn back now,” Mark answered. He began counting down. “Three, two, one, go!”

Carpenter kicked down the door and the team rushed through it. The first thing they saw was a Saber hit a button on a computer, and the first thing they heard was music over the PA system. Mark recognized the tune from one of the many movie nights he’d attended aboard UNSC vessels.

Wall delivered the first shots of the battle, killing a pair of Sabers. The bodies hit the floor, although the sound was drowned out by the gunfire that followed.

The team rushed for cover, hiding behind pillars and desks as they returned fire. Bullets chipped the floors, walls and columns of the room, filling the air with dust and littering the floor with dust and chunks of concrete.

Mark popped out first, running from one pillar to another, taking pot shots as he went. He managed to hit three different Sabers, the powerful 7.62x51mm rounds his rifle fired taking each of them out of the fight. He rolled into cover, enemy fire following his path.

Carpenter leaned out and fired his shotgun, the massive pellets suppressing the defenders and gouging baseball-sized holes in the room’s furniture and floor. He tossed a fragmentation grenade to finish, and the explosive sending lethal fragments in all directions, piercing the armor and helmets of the defending Solar Sabers, killing everything within ten meters of the blast’s center.

Wall dove from his current cover to another refuge, firing as he went. Upon reaching fresh cover, he peeked out and fired several bursts at the Sabers, scoring several hits. Twilight leaned out and fired a few bursts of her own. Return fire grazed them, just some barely missing vital arteries, and some hitting them directly in their body armor. Fortunately, their UNSC armor was more than a match for the weapons the Sabers wielded.

Mark charged at a distracted Saber, flipping the pony’s shotgun around and blowing his head into chunks. He followed by swinging the shotgun at another Saber, hitting her upside the head and breaking her neck. He finished by throwing the weapon at a Saber twenty feet away, stunning him.

As he did this, Twilight saw a pair of machinegunners train their weapons on Mark, and she erected a magical barrier. The purple shield held long enough for Mark to return to cover, by which time the barrier wilted under the hail of bullets. He looked at Twilight and gave an appreciative nod and smile, which she returned.

Bullets continued to fly at them, whizzing through the air and impacting the polished granite walls of the building’s interior. The team fired back, their weapons chattering as they blindly aimed them in the general direction of the defending soldiers. Not a single round of that volley hit.

Suddenly, the return fire stopped, and a bounty of clattering could be heard.

“We surrender!” Several of the Sabers shouted.

Mark picked up a piece of shattered glass and used it to peek around the corner. They had indeed tossed their weapons aside, all out of reach. Their heads were on the ground, and their bodies were splayed neatly to show they were serious. Mark motioned for his team to form up.

“I don’t buy this,” Mark whispered.

“No way they can attack us now; not the way they’re positioned. I think they’re serious,” Twilight responded.

“Can’t risk that; some of them still have magic.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Wall asked.

“Kill them. I’m not taking any chances with assholes as slippery as these guys are supposed to be.”

“They’re unarmed! You can’t just kill unarmed soldiers, it’s against the Geneighva Conventions!” Twilight protested in an elevated whisper.

“Fine. You think you can check them with magic, Twi?”

“I know I can.”

“Do it.”

The four of them stepped out from behind cover. As they did so, a series of explosions rocked the room as the ponies committed mass suicide with their grenades. Their bodies formed a gruesome sponge for the shrapnel, and Mark and his companions were miraculously unscathed.

“Mother of Celestia, they just…” Twilight trailed off, horrified by the fanaticism of these soldiers. These soldiers who were sworn to obey Princess Celestia killed themselves without hesitation. This wasn’t self-sacrifice, it was suicide.

Mark, Wall and Carpenter simply rushed through the smoke, hurrying to reach the bomb they had come to defuse. They approached it, and stared at the weapon of mass destruction before them.

“What now?” Carpenter asked.

“Now… Now you two and Twilight secure the area, see if there are any survivors. If that Major commanding these bastards is still alive, I want him to stay that way so I can interrogate him.”

The two soldiers silently complied. Mark turned his attention to the bomb.

It was a binary agent, just as Emmerich had said it was. The whole device was a meter tall, a meter thick, and two meters long. It had two transparent canisters containing blue and orange liquids, and an empty chamber where they would presumably mix. On the side facing Mark, there was a small display and keypad, presumably to be operated by using some object to push the buttons, although Mark’s fingers meant that he needed no such thing.

Two hours left.

“Boss! We found the major.”

Twilight carried the blue pegasus to near where Mark was by using her magic, and set the pony down by him, leaning the officer against a nearby pillar. Mark walked up to her and knelt to her level.

The major stared coldly at him, her blue eyes attempting to bore into Mark’s very psyche through sheer intimidation. On many men, women and ponies she would have succeeded, but Mark had beaten death in many a proverbial staring contest, and wasn’t bothered in the least.

“Thanks. Get back to securing the area.” Mark ordered his team, who promptly complied and left him alone with her. “How do I disarm the bomb?”

The major broke into raucous laughter after Mark asked her that question.

“What? You think I’d just tell you?” The major retorted with an obnoxious grin.

“No, but I was hoping the sequence to disarm it would be easily obtained. Might I ask if it will?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I see.”

Mark grabbed the major by her blond mane, and ripped out a bloody chunk. The unfortunate officer screamed in agony as her captor tossed her golden lock, now mixed with red, to the side.

“It’s a simple request, I’m not asking you to tell me the name of every citizen in this city. The numbers, Major.”

“Fuck off.”

Mark gave her a right hook, sending her the floor, where she lied on her side. He followed up with a kick to the stomach.

The major yelled more profanities at him defiantly through gritted teeth.

“Fucking lunatic!” Mark said, kicking her in the ribs, a thud coinciding with the impact.

“Overgrown, shit-eating monkey!” The major was beginning to cough up blood.

Mark lifted her up by the mane. “Does this hurt?” He asked. The mare simply spat in his face. Mark wiped the spittle off of his lightly-tanned features and out of his black-brown beard. “Let me ask you something. Would you like me to let you go after this little session, turn you in to the authorities, or for me to let you bleed out when I’m done? Because the first one is only an option if you cooperate.”

The major looked at him fearfully now. “L-let me go?”

“Good choice. Now hold up your end of the bargain.”

“The code to disarm is 13576.”

“Thank you. Now if you gave me the wrong info, I will toss you out of the building before the bomb can detonate so you have enough time to think about what you did.”

Mark walked over to the bomb, sweating as he did so, and adding a new layer of stink to his body on top of the ten hectic days he’d been in Manehattan. After a quick prayer, he punched in the sequence he was given.

“Come on, come on,” He breathed.

The bomb’s display lit up green. “Detonation sequence aborted” it read on the top line, under it “Agent mixing sequence aborted”, and “Destroying chemical agents” on the bottom. Mark breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have to worry about this particular bomb or its components again.

He strode over to the Major and picked her up.

He carried her to a window, and punched a gaping hole in it. He then held her through the hole, over the street hundreds of feet below.

“What the fuck are you doing!?” The major demanded.

Mark released her and let her fall the hundreds of feet to the street below.

“Team, regroup!” He barked. Within twenty seconds Twilight Sparkle, Lieutenant Curtis Wall and Warrant Officer Eddie Carpenter were assembled before him.

“Bomb’s taken care of; it’s time to exfil,” Mark said quickly.

“What did you do with the major?” Twilight Sparkle queried.

“I let her go,” Mark replied.

Carpenter and Wall looked at the hole in the nearby window and smirked at the not-so-subtle play on words as they realized what he did. In an uncharacteristic display of obliviousness, Twilight assumed he had simply allowed her to live. All three of them ignored the obvious signs of torture that surrounded them, ignorant to the hints of Mark’s enhanced interrogation. That suited him just fine.

The ragtag team assembled by a nearby window, fixed their harnesses to their rappelling cables, secured their lines, and descended the exterior of the building. They took four minutes to reach the bottom, and they disconnected from their cables when they did.

The group began to head back to their base of operations back at Wall’s marefriend’s place. When they were two blocks clear of the building they had just escaped, Mark blew the charges. They all turned to watch.

The top floors of the building came collapsing down in a cascade of concrete. The weight of the impact caused the floors below them to collapse in turn, creating an avalanche of steel and stone as the building tumbled to the ground. The instigating explosion had created thunder, albeit thunder that paled in comparison to the deafening roar created by the falling architecture.

The group began to turn around and head back to Helia’s when a “natural” disaster struck; a quake to be specific. The ground began to shake, asphalt and concrete cracked under the strain, and gouts of flame rose from sewer ponyholes. In response the team sprinted as fast as they could towards their destination, and hopefully away from the epicenter. As it turned out, they weren’t fast enough.

One of the skyward ponyhole covers fell onto Wall, impacting his left shoulder and glancing his head. Carpenter grabbed him and carried the semi-conscious soldier over his shoulder.

An exploding vehicle sent shrapnel their way, some of it connecting with Twilight, and leaving deep gashes in her right side. Mark turned and saw her lying unconscious.

“No!!” He shouted. He rushed back to grab her, and threw her over his shoulders, her legs dangling on either side of his neck. He grabbed her legs to hold her securely, and ran towards Helia’s.

When they finally arrived there, Carpenter and a now-conscious Wall were the first in. Helia gasped as she saw the blood dripping from each of the four returning champions, crying as she saw the state of Wall.

“Dear Celestia…” She whispered.

“I’m fine, babe,” Wall replied with a weak grin. He found his bed and fell onto it in relief.

Mark took Twilight to their room, stacked his sleeping bag on top of hers, and set her down on the now thicker padding. Mark felt her pulse and found it to be below normal. He rushed back into the main room of the apartment to find Wall with a white bedsheet wrapped around his head, blood staining the spot where his wound was.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Mark demanded.

“No, sorry,” Helia replied.

“Okay, I need some sheets, rubbing alcohol or booze, and any medical materials you might have. Got it?”

Helia trotted around the apartment gathering things, and returned to Mark a few minutes later. He carried his supplies back to the room Twilight was in. She was conscious now, and the pain was obvious on her face.

“What happened?” She asked in a groan.

Mark set down his supplies “You were hit by shrapnel from an exploding vehicle after that quake. I think I may have caused an explosion in the sewer when I destroyed the building, but I could be wrong.”

“A-am I going to die?” She whispered.

Mark’s eyes started to water when she asked that, as the stone mask that was his face crumbled. He wore a look of genuine concern, rested his hand on her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb, wiping away dirt caked on her face. “No-no-no-no-no-no-no, you’ll- you’ll be fine! Just- just stay with me okay?”

Mark poured vodka into a cloth and began to clean Twilight’s wounds with it. She screamed as it burned her wounds, and quickly passed out. Mark continued to sanitize her wounds, and when he finished, he began to tear up sheets to use as bandages. He wound them tightly around the wounds, the makeshift bandages tied tight enough that they stopped the bleeding quickly. After that he tucked her into her sleeping bag, his under hers so that she could rest more comfortably.

Mark moved into a corner to pray.

He began to cry silently. He knew he couldn't afford to let anyone or anypony know how he felt, but he couldn't take seeing Twilight like this. So he wept until his tear ducts ran dry.

Home Free

Mark drew his rifle from his back and placed it next to Twilight after he wiped the tears from his face. He created some makeshift bedding using sheets and towels and lied down on it. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was certainly better than sleeping on the bare floor. He closed his eyes, but found himself unable to sleep or even approach such a state.

He heard the sound of an engine outside and walked to the window to see what was happening. There was a band of haggard-looking human refugees outside dismounting from a troop transport Warthog, some of them armed. Mark walked to the main room of the apartment to inform the others.

“Some humans outside, possible hostiles. I’m gonna go downstairs and check it out. Take care of Twi for me,” Mark explained.

“You’re going alone?” Wall asked. He still wore the makeshift bandage around his head to help with the concussion sustained earlier.

“I’ll be fine.” Mark walked out of the apartment and headed downstairs. The elevators were down, as could be expected, and the stairs were thusly the most convenient way of ascending and descending the building’s levels. Mark had his pistol at the ready the whole way down.

When he reached the lobby, the refugees were already inside, although they had all headed into the restroom. Mark kicked in the door to the fairly spacious restroom, pointing his M6G at them. They could very well be looters or raiders driven to violence by the pandemonium of a crumbling city. Mark had seen and killed many of them in during the Human-Covenant War.

“Freeze! Toss your weapons, hands where I can see them!” Mark barked.

The refugees all drew their weapons and pointed them at Mark.

“I’m waiting,” Mark said.

“Kill him!” The leader snarled. His thugs charged at Mark.

There was no time to aim his weapon at the foes whose bodies now obscured any clear killshots. Mark pistol-whipped one and holstered his weapon. The man fell to the ground with a shattered skull. Four men remained.

He closed with the next one, who attempted to stab him in a lunge. Mark sidestepped the attack, grabbed the forward hand, and delivered an elbow strike to the victim’s own elbow, bending it forcefully into an agonizingly unnatural position. The unfortunate fellow dropped to the floor, bone jutting from the inside of his arm.

Mark rolled to the urinals, and ripped one of them out of a wall. He brought the enormous weapon to bear and struck another attacker with the porcelain still attached, shattering the white mass on his body and breaking most of the bones on the right side of the victim’s upper body. The pipe underneath was used a bludgeon to kill the next thug, striking the man’s temple with enormous force.

Mark dropped the pipe and moved in to dispatch the last thug, the leader as chance would have it. He grabbed the man’s hair, and slammed his head repeatedly into one of the mirrors. After that, he drew his knife and slit the throats of all of the men on the floor, starting with the ones he knew were alive, and finishing with the one he believed were dead. Mark was not a man to gamble with the certainty of his kills.

He walked to the door to exit, and caught a glance of himself in the mirror. He walked to the sink and leaned on it, staring at his likeness as it appeared on the reflective surface.

His once clean-shaven face was covered in a black-brown beard, wrapping around his mouth and chin, stretching to his sideburns, and as covered with filth as the rest of his body; a full beard, short in length and high in coverage. His thick black-brown hair, once a standard military crew cut, had grown significantly into a borderline mullet during the past few months and was caked with dirt from his time in Manehattan. His hazel eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep, and felt somewhat dry.

His uniform was filthy, covered in dirt and blood and grime, torn and cut in multiple places. His armor, a single chest piece, was scratched and dented and as dirty as the rest of him. It had taken many bullets and blows, and showed its wear. It was designed for longevity and durability, and would certainly see more use, but it was worn nonetheless. His arms and face were covered in cuts and bruises, an intricate lace of dried blood covering them.

I look like I fought my way out of Hell, and I’d have thought that’d be harder than fighting out of a city. But I guess dragging along some girl would make it almost that hard.

Not just “some girl”, a pony. A pony you love. A pony whose innocence you destroyed. A pony you made a killer.

I did that to save her! I had to or she’d have died, no question about it!

Fight for her, not with her. You need to protect her, she can’t do this on her own anymore. She cares for you.

Mark pushed off of the sink and stood up straight, but continued to stare at himself in the mirror.

Cares for me? What a load of shit.

She hugged you to comfort you after you told her your story. She’s had more experience with you than any other human, and you know how strong of a bond war can forge.

From my understanding of ponies, I would’ve gotten that reaction from most ponies of either gender. And just because we’re of opposite genders and I love her doesn’t mean that it’d be a romantic bond, which is what I’m supposedly looking for. Besides, she hasn’t exhibited signs of romantic or sexual interest in any human or pony that I’ve seen. She could think I’d be disinterested in such a topic, shy about discussing it or exhibiting any hint of such feelings, asexual, or even a lesbian.

Would any of those things stop you loving her?

Mark looked down and closed his eyes.

No… In the months I’ve known her, she’s shown herself to be smart, funny, kind, and modest; she’s great, and that’s why I love her. But what good is love if it gets no returns? It becomes an obsession, and I’d be heartbroken if she found somepony or someone else… Or if she died and I never told her how I felt… What’s the point of living if every idle thought is of love I’ll never have?

Do you want to make her happy?

Yes. It’d light up my existence more than a little to know that somepony close to me is happy.

Then help her to do that. At least die knowing you helped her be happy.

Mark opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror one last time before heading upstairs to the apartment.

***

Thousands of miles away and a week prior, Fluttershy had suggested a detour to the rendezvous after the most direct route had been obscured by a large, hollowed-out tree. She based it on what looked like a trail of footprints and hoofprints, which she guessed belonged to Ethan and Rainbow Dash. After running her idea and the thinking behind it by Jason, they agreed to follow the path.

They continued for a few minutes when Fluttershy smelled something foul up ahead, and rushed to see what it was. Not only did she begin to cry when she saw the source, but she felt the bitter taste of vomit creep up her throat to caress the back of her tongue.

Jason came up behind her to find the source of her woes: pools of blood and gore, and dismembered manticores. One of them looked like they’d swallowed a grenade, and judging from the fragmentation dug into the ground, that wasn’t unlikely.

Seeing Fluttershy, who was actively crying now, Jason removed his helmet, crouched and hugged her gently, stroking her mane with equal care. Her sobbing softened, and she rested her forehooves on his smooth shoulder armor.

“It’s okay,” He whispered, trying his best to comfort her. “It happened fast enough they didn’t feel anything.”

With his left hand, Jason put his helmet back on. He gently rested Fluttershy on the ground, and they continued to follow the footpath. Jason had a pretty good idea of who made it.

***

“So hungry…” Rainbow Dash moaned.

She remembered Ethan saying those bars could sustain her for a day, but that they were best when balanced out with real food. What she wouldn’t give for a bear claw and cold glass of skim milk, she was having trouble deciding. It was getting dark too, so they’d need to set up camp soon.

As she followed Ethan, she let out a sudden grunt. She had scraped right by a pineapple plant.

“Sweet!” She exclaimed, realizing her luck in finding one of her favorite fruits. “Hey Eeth, mind grabbing this pineapple for me?”

“No prob.”

Ethan walked over and removed the large fruit from its home, carrying it to a clear spot in the forest before dropping it. He unsheathed his knife and began cutting the spiky exterior off, and then slicing off chunks for Rainbow to eat.
Ethan perked his head up after he finished, a pair of animals appearing on his motion tracker.

He disappeared into the bushes, returning minutes later with some wood, a bee’s nest and a large snake around his neck. He dropped them all to the ground and began to build a “log cabin” with the firewood after digging a fire pit. He shaved off some wood with his knife to use as kindling.

He saw Rainbow Dash looking nervously at the nest.“Don’t worry, I flushed out all the bees. All that’s left is the honey and the larvae,” He assured her.

“Ew, are you gonna eat the grubs?” She asked with a genuinely disgusted look.

“I would if I didn’t have the snake. Grubs got a lotta protein in ‘em; they’re good survival food and they don’t taste that bad if you’re really hungry. I’ll cook up this python in a bit. Just gotta get this fire going.”

Ethan produced a lighter from his UA/COUNTERASSAULT chestplate and started the fire, which quickly warmed the surrounding area.

***

Jason drew his M6G and shifted into a combat stance. Fluttershy quickly rushed to hide behind his legs, recognizing that he sensed danger.

“Smoke up ahead; unknown source. Stay low, keep quiet.”

Jason crouched and proceeded towards the source of the smoke. When he got close, he heard Fluttershy squeak. Just as quickly as he registered the noise, he heard a gun’s safety click off.

“Freeze!” Jason shouted at the same time as the other. He recognized the olive and black armored figure and lowered his weapon. “Ethan! Good to see you, man.”

“Likewise. Just started up a campfire, caught some food. Come on, I got RB- I mean, Rainbow Dash with me.”

Fluttershy galloped to the camp, and her eyes met Rainbow’s. They rushed to give each other a hug, each glad to see their oldest friend safe. Ethan and Jason noticed an odd “Squee” sound when they hugged.

“Oh Rainbow, it was horrible,” Fluttershy moaned.

“What happened!?” Dash asked, worried.

“We came across these two dead manticores, horribly mutilated. The whole area was covered in blood and guts,” Fluttershy sobbed.

“Oh, that.”

“Wait, you saw it too?”

“Actually, I kinda helped Ethan cause it,” Dash said sheepishly.

Fluttershy bolted to Ethan and gazed at him furiously.

“How dare you!!” Fluttershy roared at him.

“Jeez, calm down Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash said, trying to soothe her best friend.

“Don’t you tell me to calm down! Ethan murdered those poor things!”

“Hey, those manticores almost killed me, and if Dash hadn’t distracted them with her tasty-looking flank I’d be the crunchiest meal those motherfuckers would’ve ever had! It was self-defense, completely justified!” Ethan interjected.

“‘Tasty-looking flank’?” Rainbow Dash repeated with a suggestive look and smile.

“I didn’t mean it that way. Or at least not consciously,” Ethan responded, embarrassed.

“Justified my flank! You didn’t have to provoke them!” Fluttershy resumed, ignoring the mildly flirtatious dialogue.

“Provoke them? If I could I would’ve avoided them, but when Dash and I were racing, I ran into the middle of two of them and she saved my life! They attacked the moment they saw me, and I’m lucky to be alive!” Ethan retorted.

“Fluttershy, please just lay off him, we don’t need to fight,” Dash interrupted. To her surprise, Fluttershy nodded and calmed herself.

They ate the food they’d managed to find, the humans feasting on the cooked meat of the snake Ethan had found earlier and the ponies eating various fruits and plants in the area.

“Okay, come morning, we’ll have to switch to operations mode. We can’t forget that were shot down by an unknown group, and we need to figure out whodunit before we try to leave this jungle,” Jason spoke up.

“There’re only four of us; just two soldiers. For all we know, there could be an entire base full of bad guys out there!” Rainbow Dash objected.

“Which is exactly why we need to figure out what’s going on here and get backup. I know you and Fluttershy aren’t soldiers, but what’s out there could threaten San Cadenza AFB, which is the only major military base in the region. We lose that base, and all of northwestern Equestria is open to whatever faction decides to take it,” Ethan countered.

“We should really talk about this in the morning,” Fluttershy added.

Their stomachs full and bodies fatigued from moving through the jungle, the four of them fell asleep around the warmth of the campfire.

***

Mark returned to the apartment to find the others snacking on a bag of Hay’s Classic potato chips and some warm soda. Twilight had woken up and was eating with them. He sat down and joined them, the three humans and two ponies forming a circle. They shared the food and began to plan their escape.

“I got our radios working,” Wall began. “Here’s what I’ve gathered from listening in on our guys. The whole area around Grand Canteral Station is the base of operations for allied forces in Manehattan. We’ve got about four hundred UNSC Army and Air Force personnel there. In addition to that, there’s a large contingent of the Royal Equestrian Army there, and the majority of the UNSC forces in Manehattan are operating from there.”

“So we need to head several klicks north to reach safety?” Mark asked.

“Exactly. The pony in charge of the operation, Brigadier General Red Clay, has been sending out search-and-rescue units, company-size, to locate wounded allies and civilians and get them to safety. One of them is in the middle of a sweep a bit west of here. We link up with that unit, we’ll have our ticket in.”

“What’s our window to link up with them?”

“Starting now, two-and-a-half hours, tops. They were separated by debris from that quake earlier, which must’ve been from that Covie excavation, so even after we link up with one, we’ll have to help fight our way to get to the companies. Bravo, Charlie and Delta were already split up to cover different areas when the quake hit. Delta’s closest to us, so we’ll go to them. Eventually, all three companies will link up and head back to the station in a large convoy, which will be given limited air and armor support.”

“Then we better roll out ASAP,” Mark concluded. “Alright, all of you grab your shit, we’re heading out in five!”

Wall helped Helia gather her essentials while Carpenter inspected his M6G and M45 Tactical Shotgun. Mark noticed that he’d scratched his name onto the upper-back of his armor piece.

Mark walked to Twilight and knelt down. “Hey, you alright?” He asked softly.

“I’m fine, thanks to you. I used my magic to check if anything like shrapnel was left inside, but there wasn’t. My only complaint is it hurts to walk on it. I could fix it up a little better with a healing spell, but given how draining our time here has been, I can’t risk using much magic out of my dwindling reserve. But yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good to hear.” Mark patted her on the back.

The five of them assembled ready to go a few minutes later, and headed downstairs in an orderly line, with Helia in the middle since she was unarmed. Their Warthog was still there, and they hopped in. Carpenter drove, Wall rode shotgun, and the others rode in the vehicle’s bed. The vehicle began to move west.

“You’re Twilight Sparkle, aren’t you? One of the Elements of Harmony?” Helia asked.

“Yeah, I am.” Twilight responded with a weak, embarrassed smile.

“What in Equestria are you doing here anyway?” The turquoise pegasus asked, blowing a golden hair from her face. She wanted this to at least seem as fast as possible, which made sense considering she was an easy target.

“The New Yoke Times wanted to interview me, and then Mark too. We were in the middle of the interview when the attack happened. We headed into the city and got captured. We escaped around the time we met Wall and Carpenter.”
Twilight sighed. She was tired in a way sleep could not cure. Getting so little sleep, not enough food, and enduring constant stress had worn her ragged. Frankly she was surprised she hadn’t had one of her notorious stress-induced breakdowns. Helia was probably the only one who’d gotten any decent amount of sleep.

Carpenter and Wall were better off than her, although they showed signs of fatigue; a slight slur in their speech, a bit of feet-dragging when they walked, worsened posture, all of it pointing to exhaustion. Mark showed none of these signs; the only hint to his extreme fatigue was his tired expression. Other than that, he seemed to just endure the fatigue through sheer willpower alone.

Mark was watching out for any potential threats when the generic combat chatter on the team’s radios was drowned out by an urgent-sounding voice.

“Charlie Two, this is Delta Six, we have civilians and wounded in tow, we need backup now. We’re exchanging fire with some kind of- Alien armored vehicle. It’s using heavy plasma weaponry. My ponies can’t- We don’t- My ponies are fucking dying here!” The voice went from urgent to genuinely panicked. Mark knew that tone; it was the tone of someone who was about to break.

“Delta Six, this is Charlie Two. We are en route to your position, but the streets are blocked, it’s gonna take some time to-” The beginning of that sentence disturbed Mark as much as the end. Not only were they cut off from support, they’d lost enough of their leaders that the sixth-in-command was calling the shots.

“We don’t have time, Charlie Two! You get here now, or you’re just gonna be counting our fucking corpses!”

Mark had heard enough. “Carp! Get us to Delta’s position and hang back with the civilians!”

“Sir!” Carpenter affirmed. He slammed the accelerator and closed the distance towards the pinned company. The M12 FAV’s suspension absorbed most of the bumps, but that comfort was lessened by the speed they were travelling at.

Less than a minute later, they arrived. Mark hopped out and ran to the edge of the firefight. He saw a pony in dirty Multi-Terrain Pattern fatigues wearing a buck sergeant’s chevrons, and went to speak with him. A plasma bolt flew by his head, resulting in him hunching down behind cover next to the non-commissioned officer.

“Lieutenant Colonel Thompson, UNSC Army. Gimme a sitrep,” Mark barked.

A few green plasma bolts flew past Mark. He peeked out and returned fire with his DMR, dropping the Grunt who’d fired at him.

“Beyond fucked sir! This is all that’s left of Delta company; the few heavy weapons we had were slagged when that thing attacked, so we’ve got no way to take that thing down.”

Mark peeked out and glimpsed the vehicle that had caused so much trouble. A Locust. Locusts were essentially scaled-down Scarabs, and had firepower to match. Their armor was about as tough as it was on a Wraith tank, which made them tougher to deal with when their enhanced mobility was in play.

“Have you tried calling in air support?”

“Fuck yeah I did! Our unit doesn’t have priority.”

Mark patched into the Air Force’s comms.

“Overwatch, this is Colonel Thompson, UNSC Army; requesting immediate air support! Danger close, repeat, danger close.”

“Copy Colonel. We are diverting an AC-220 Vulture gunship to provide support fire. Specify the nature of your target.”

Mark heard a blast of energy as the Locust fired its main cannon, obliterating a ruined building some of Delta Company was hiding in.

“Locust. ETA?”

“Thirty seconds, stand by.”

Mark looked at the acting commander of Delta, a childish grin glowing beneath his dirty features. “Sarge, tell your soldiers to get under a rock; air support is coming in less than thirty.”

The noncom, though bewildered at first, joined Mark’s smile. He yelled over his radio.

“Heads down, everypony! Air support’s about to rip this fucker a new one!”

***

“Chang, you’re up!” The Vulture’s co-pilot shouted to his starboard gunner. “Locust has friendlies pinned down, danger close!”

Warrant Officer Chang searched around for the target before spotting it. The four-legged mechanical giant was blasting its way through human and pony soldiers to reach a convoy of civilians a thousand meters below him.

“Not on my watch," He muttered. "Firing!"

As soon as he had a clear shot, he fired his gun. The autocannons fired a steady two-second salvo of rounds at the vehicle. All seven 30mm rounds impacted the target, first staggering, then obliterating the walker. He saw the distinctive blue explosion of a destroyed Covenant vehicle from his screen and called it out.

“Target neutralized!”

***

Thunder rang from the clear night sky, as the beleaguered soldiers watched their tormentor fall under a mere few seconds’ worth of fire. As it fell, they hid behind whatever cover they could find to avoid the impending explosion.

“Target neutralized!” Mark heard over the radio.

The remaining soldiers stood up and let loose a collective sigh of relief. While that ordeal was over, they were a long way from the safety of Grand Canteral Station.

“Quit standing with your dicks in your hands ponies, that’s ten minutes to sweep for survivors, then we link up with Bravo and Charlie at the library!” The sergeant barked. With the destruction of that four-legged terror, he had assumed a more professional composure. “Charlie Two, this is Delta Six. A new arrival rustled up some air support to take that fucker down. Will proceed to rally point. Out.”

Mark helped to dig some civilians out of the rubble. Most of them had been able to get to away from the attacking vehicle, but not all were as fortunate. The majority of the bodies under the rubble were just that, bodies.

Mark hopped back into the bed of his companions' Warthog and waited for the convoy to start moving. It did shortly.

Around ten minutes later, they arrived at the library, where a column of human and pony vehicles were assembled. Civilians were streaming out of the building, which was burning from an earlier salvo by Covenant artillery.

“That’s the same library we…” Twilight trailed off. She had a look resembling sadness on her face, but not of remorse for the lost tomes; for the pony who had until so recently been her idol.

“So. Bye-bye, Starswirl,” Wall said without a hint of remorse.

“No. No, something tells me we’ll see him again,” Mark responded.

The convoy, now accompanying almost a thousand civilians and with an armed escort numbering in the hundreds, proceeded towards Grand Canteral Station.

It was around 4:30AM when they stopped, a gate apparently blocking their vehicles. It would need to be bypassed from the front gate. The convoy’s CO had tried reaching the gatekeepers, but to no avail. Mark led a team of a few volunteers to try and get the gates unlocked.

They proceeded through a ruined building towards the gate controls, when assault rifle fire killed two of them.

“Blue-on-blue! Hold your fucking fire!” Mark yelled as loud as he could.

The firing stopped.

“Identify yourself!” One of the guards shouted back.

“Lieutenant Colonel Thompson, UNSC Army; I need those gates open, there’s a convoy with a fuckton of civvies waiting to get in!”

“Sorry sir, your IFFs didn’t come up at first!” Another guard apologized.

“That doesn't cut it, you killed two friendlies!”

“Princess fucking Luna… Okay, gates are open!” The first one again.

Mark jumped out of the building and followed the convoy in. His companions’ vehicle was near the back, and he grabbed onto the rear bumper to pull himself on. He rode it into the makeshift motorpool before dismounting.

A UNSC Army Private First Class walked up to them, saluting Mark.

“At ease, private.”

“Sir, Brigadier General Red Clay wants to see you and your group, sir. He should have sent a waypoint about… Now!”

“Thank you,” Mark said before leading his group off. Outside the station was a field of tents. They walked into the station and beheld the mess inside; People and ponies just clustered together on the floor, dirt and litter lining the ground. It would have been difficult to navigate through the crowd without bumping into a refugee had there not been lanes designated for movement.

It broke Twilight’s heart to see all the suffering these people and ponies were going through. So many robbed of families, friends, homes. Her human companions were less shaken, having seen this before during Covenant sieges.

It took a mere minute to walk to the one-star’s makeshift office. He was a rusty brown earth pony wearing a dirty pair of Multi-Terrain Pattern fatigues. He was conversing with two people on screens.

As the group walked in, they saw the screen’s occupants. On the left was Princess Celestia herself, and on the right was Admiral Hunt.

Mark, Wall and Carpenter snapped into salutes. “Sirs!” They said in unision, addressing the Brigadier and the Admiral. “Ma’am!” Just as simultaneously, to the princess.

“At ease,” The Admiral and General replied simultaneously. Celestia giggled at the sudden synchronization.

“So you’re the group that took down that company of Sabers and saved Manehattan. Not bad for three soldiers and- Who are you anyway?” He spoke with a smile until he inquired about Twilight.

“Twilight Sparkle, sir,” She answered.

“Twilight!?” Celestia gasped.

“Princess!” Twilight ran to the screen and tried to embrace it, only to remember it was an inanimate object. She backed away, blushing and grinning apologetically.

“Twilight, what happened to you?” Celestia asked with concern. She noticed Twilight’s various scratches and generally disheveled appearance, as well as her salvaged uniform, weapon and body armor.

“Well, it turns out city life just isn’t for me. Too much stress and negativity,” She joked.

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” She smiled.

“You can thank Mark for that. I promise I’ll tell you about the whole ordeal when we get out of here.”

“Where is Colonel Thompson?”

Mark stepped forwards. His filthy and blood-spattered uniform and armor, bloodied arms and face, and plethora of cuts and bruises betrayed the punishment he’d taken. The way he ignored the pain was positively monstrous.

“Here, Your Majesty.”

“I have to thank you for protecting my pupil.” A look of overwhelming gratitude dominated her features. “She’s… Like a daughter to me.”

Twilight had never heard her teacher say that, and was both deeply touched and ecstatic to know it.

“Don’t thank me yet, ma’am. Until this city is secure enough to evacuate her safely, I’d hold off on the gratitude." Mark corrected her "Now, do we have a plan?”

“Yes,” Admiral Hunt began. “We need to neutralize that Covenant heavy destroyer. The problem is how to do it. It’d take several MAC rounds to take it down, and we can’t risk bringing multiple ships into the atmosphere to bombard the target. Firing the MAC rounds from orbit would reduce their power drastically, meaning even more ships would have to devote time to fire support. An Archer missile strike, while feasible from orbit, would reduce the accuracy of the missiles and make it even easier for them to be shot down than they’d normally be.”

“Then what exactly is the plan?” Brigadier Clay demanded.

“That structure below Canteral Park; it’s Forerunner. Emmerich, care to explain?”

“Yes Admiral.” Emmerich’s slim, bespectacled avatar appeared on-screen. “Shortly after the invasion of Manehattan, the Office of Naval Intelligence conducted a seismic scan, with a particular focus on the Covenant dig site. The results were quite interesting. Buried under Canteral Park is a fortress. Given what we know of this Forerunner fortress, we can assume that they armed it with a powerful cannon, and a very large contingent of normal Sentinel drones and Sentinel Enforcers. We also know that for reasons we can’t even begin to fathom, humanity is the chosen successor of the Forerunner legacy; that means that if we can get a human inside there, then we can hijack the systems, blast that destroyer out of the sky, and configure a targeting parameter for the Sentinel drones to clear out the remaining Covenant in Manehattan.”

“What if the bots go crazy? I know from reports what the Arbiter said about Guilty Spark snapping,” Mark asked. He was wary of bringing another faction into this conflict.

“Excellent question. We believe that the drones are self-maintaining and semi-autonomous; they can function on their own, but need something from outside themselves or they cease functioning. Namely, a signal. While they do not take commands from central intelligence that controls their every action, Sentinels require a sort of authorization to continue operating, similar to the Permissive Action Link used on nuclear weapons, although it’s a continuous one rather than a one-time input. This signal originates from the structure itself; destroy the origin, and the drones will fall to the ground like so much junk within seconds. The structure itself would actually be vulnerable to MAC rounds due to aging and inferior building materials.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re proposing we mount an assault on Covenant-occupied territory without support from UNSC starships in order to sic a whole army of potentially hackable drones on our invaders?” Clay repeated skeptically.

“Well, it’s possible we could keep a ship just outside of effective MAC range. The heavy frigate Andraste would be ideal for that job; it has a powerful gun and is fast enough to move from a safe loitering area to a firing position within a minute. But as it is, it would only be able to fire two shots from its already upgraded cannon before it would have to recharge and reload, which isn’t enough to destroy that ship. But it would definitely be enough to destroy that installation if we could get a clear shot at it.”

Clay sighed. “Look, this is all just speculation. Right now, we need to hold this city for a few more days until we can get everything ready for the primary and secondary evacs. Until we get that done, nothing else matters in this theater. Meeting adjourned.”

The visuals on both screens cut out, and switched to displaying various tactical and strategic information.

"As for you four," Clay resumed. "I'll need your talents here."

Doomsday Clock

Mark and his two companions watched helplessly as the Albatross and Pelican dropships gained altitude, climbing above the towers and flying off. The three men lost sight of them quickly as they disappeared among the skyscrapers.

What followed was a ten-minute tirade of swearing on Alexander’s part, as he cursed their luck for obvious reasons, the Covenant for cutting them off, the narrow streets for being so easily blocked, and the planners of the secondary evacuation for not allotting more time to reach the evac point. It seemed that several REA and UNSC soldiers had similar problems, because almost three dozen vehicles arrived by the end of his absurdly profane ranting. Many of the personnel joined him in their anger, creating what many of them would look back to as a somewhat literal shitstorm, made slightly more literal by the rain.

After assuming command, the SPARTANs began taking a head count of the forces at their disposal by using their radios.
Their REA allies’ aircraft were just one AH-64D Apony Longbow and two UH-60 Blackhocks. Their complement of land vehicles was quite formidable. Five M2 Saddley IFVs with add-on armor and varying states on their turret mounted TOW missiles, four M5 Challenger II MBTs with ERA, and two of the previous generation M60 tanks, fitted with the modern Isreini Sabra upgrade packages. Also present were three Stryker M1128 Mobile Gun Systems, fitted with composite applique armor and an outer cage armor. Apparently no M1114 HMMWV “Humvee” vehicles had survived the battle. All of that totaled to seventeen REA vehicles. Additionally, a head count of their infantry indicated they had one hundred-seventeen ponies equipped for combat, not including the vehicle crews.

The UNSC forces were more uniformly equipped and armed, as well as organized. At their disposal were four UH-144 Falcons, two armed with mounted M247H machineguns and two with M460 Automatic Grenade Launchers. They also had a Pelican with an extended troop bay and missile pods, which had apparently been too slow to evacuate during the temporary lifting of the no-fly zone and barely avoided a missile from an REAF fighter. On the ground they had three normal M12 FAV Warhogs, one gauss Warthog and two missile Warthogs, as well as four Mongooses. Four M808 Scorpion tanks were present, and anti-aircraft fire was provided by a pair of M9 Wolverine AA tanks. One SP-42 Cobra railgun tank was present to round out the bunch. That added up to eighteen vehicles, and the total number of UNSC personnel was one hundred twenty-nine.

As the vehicles congregated in a several block area to prevent clogged streets, the SPARTANs received their reports. Thirty-five vehicles and three hundred human and pony infantry. Planning began for an evacuation of their own when Mark quashed it.

“We’re not leaving this island until we can get rid of the Covenant. We’ll do that with or without outside help, but a UNSC frigate is en route to support us last I heard. Major Tsoukalos will brief you on the plan,” Mark explained.

He contacted Admiral Hunt with his suit’s comms. “Admiral, this is Lieutenant Colonel Mark Thompson. I’ve assumed command of the remaining forces in the midtown area, and we’re going to stage an assault, try and carry out the plan we discussed. Can you assist?”

“Colonel, this is Hunt, listen carefully. I just got out of a fight with the Equestrian brass, whose best idea right now is to launch a tactical nuclear strike on Manehattan, effective at midnight tonight.”

“Sir, that is insane. This city is still full of people. And there’s the surrounding boroughs, not to mention the fallout. They can’t-”

“They will Colonel. Equestria sees it as a necessary price to stop the Covenant, and I’m having a tough time offering alternatives. Now you have a very limited window in which to do… Whatever it it you plan to do. After that… Do you understand?”

“Affirmative, but-”

“Contact, open fire!” A pony yelled. A Locust made its way through a several tanks before being taken down by 105mm cannon fire from REA M1128s.

“Fuck! We need to move!” Alexander yelled.

The SPARTANs mounted their Warthog and headed towards Canteral Park.

“All units, we are heading for Canteral Park, effective right fucking now!” Alexander yelled over the radio. Plasma mortars began pounding their position, taking out more vehicles. The aircraft took off and headed for the park to get a visual.

“Hold channel Colonel, I’ll see what I can do.”

“What’s the status of Lieutenant Rosenkova and her support?”

Please let Twilight be okay.

“Their train was derailed by a Covenant bomb, and we can’t reach any of them. I don’t think they made it,” Hunt answered.

“Copy, Thompson out,” Mark said calmly. Mark was devastated, and for a moment his grip loosened on the handle of the gauss cannon. He quickly regained his composure however, as his heart filled with a cold rage.

As if Twilight’s death had sadistically cheered the sky up, the rain stopped and the moon emerged. It became a clear night in minutes, the moon and stars lighting the way across wet pavement and dirt.

I’m going to finish this tonight.

The vehicles advanced to the outskirts of Canteral Park, killing any resistance on the way. When they reached a clearing and saw the park, the allied force opened fire on anything in their path.

Rockets, missiles and grenades rained from UNSC and REA aircraft, accompanied by large-caliber rounds tearing apart infantry. The Apache was especially effective, but after several kills, an anti-aircraft Wraith unleashed a barrage of fuel rods at it. The attack helicopter was reduced to shrapnel by the emerald explosions, and an M5A1 Challenger II destroyed its attacker with a 120mm high explosive squash head projectile.

Human and pony armored vehicles advanced alongside each other, obliterating everything in their path, infantry and vehicles alike. But one by one, they fell against the dozens of vehicles the Covenant had fielded, their armor no match for the plasma weaponry of their adversaries. Were it not for their rapid advance and numbers, the land assault would have failed.

Infantry disembarked from their transports, adding their own weaponry to the fight. The air was filled with tracer rounds as the allies put out as many rounds as they could. Entire Covenant squads were torn to ribbons by the hail of metal directed at them.

Lukas maneuvered the SPARTANs’ Warthog well enough that it was able to obtain several vehicle kills without being hit. He positioned the vehicle behind a column of Wraiths, and traveled parallel to them. Mark put a round from the gauss cannon into each of their exposed exhaust vents, destroying them in rapid succession. The formidable line of vehicles fell in seconds.

Covenant troops deployed from Phantoms, but most of the dropships were shot down by the Wolverines and the missile Warthog before they could even put the soldiers on the ground. Those that did land were slaughtered by the Warthogs’ guns, and the vehicles deployed for their support were destroyed 105mm rounds of the M1128s’ and M60 Sabras’ cannons.

More Covenant troops emerged, coming from a large door leading from the inside of the Forerunner structure still partially buried. Long range cannon fire pounded them, but the aliens forged ahead out of what could have been bravery as easily as desperation. Some light vehicles came out of the tunnel, but they were swept aside as easily as the footsoldiers.

The battle raged for an hour, the allied forces bombarding the Covenant from afar until their ammunition ran low, at which point both sides slowed. Eventually the aliens stopped fighting, fleeing the park.

“Archer, get us in there!” Mark barked. The Warthog began to close with the sole entrance when the ground began to quake, then rise. Beneath them was a metal plateau, which flipped some of the advancing vehicles. Within a minute, it had risen fifty meters above the ground, and Mark’s team was alone.

If Lukas and Alexander were intimidated by this, they didn’t say anything. They drove into the heart of the structure, following the huge corridors deeper and deeper into the structure. Curiously, the holograms on the walls seemed to indicate the directions to take.

Finally, they came to a door, one too small for the Warthog.

“Alexander, Lukas, stay here and guard this door. I want this ‘Hog ready to go when I get back, alright?”

“Sir-” Lukas began.

“That’s an order, Captain! If I need help I’ll radio you, but otherwise stay put.”

The two of them nodded and readied for defense and escape. Mark walked through the door, which opened for him. On the other end was a bridge of solid blue light, which he took to reach the other end of a chasm. At the other end was another door. He entered this one as well, to find a large room.

It was circular in shape, and lined by a ring-like platform, with a large hologram of Equis in the empty space within the ring. A console was near the edge of the ring.

As he approached, a metallic orb gently descended from the ceiling, a yellow light taking up most of the approaching side.

“Greetings Reclaimer! I am 147 Adjutant Reflex, monitor of this installation, and several others in this part of the planet! How may I assist you?” The machine had a deep voice that contrasted its small size and seemingly cheery demeanor.

This seems… Easy.

“The ship above this installation. I need it destroyed. Can you get it done?”

“Easily, and with pleasure!”

A distant thunder shook the structure for several seconds. Seconds later another tremor shook the ground, this one shorter but more intense.

“Raider here sir,” Alexander began, using his callsign. “What the fuck was that?”

“This is Captain Loose Cannon,” A pony said over the comms. Cheering could be clearly heard in the background. “Whatever you did in there, it worked!”

Mark checked his clock. There was twenty minutes to midnight; twenty minutes to a nuclear strike.

“There’s one more thing I need, Reflex.”

“Yes Reclaimer?”

“The city is filled with Covenant, and if they’re not eliminated in half an hour, this structure will be the epicenter of a nuclear strike. If you have any way to eliminate them, I suggest you use it.”

“As you wish Reclaimer; deploying Sentinels.”

Damn, he’s practically a yes-man.

“Sir, those bots Major Tsoukalos was talking about are coming out of the structure. I’m getting reports that they’re engaging Covies all over the place; they just came out of the fucking ground and they’re already everywhere!”

“Elimination of remaining meddlers should be complete in five minutes.”

The next five minutes were the longest Mark had ever experienced.

“Sweeps complete! I am happy to report that barring a minute amount of possible survivors, there are no meddlers remaining!”

“They’re gone sir! They’re fucking dead! Fucking lightbulbs did their job! Equestria, fuck y-” The pony’s transmission was interrupted with a burst of static.

At the same time, the yellow ‘eye’ began to flash red, and the monitor began to exhibit erratic flight patterns. The yellow turned to blue, and the flickering slowed to just an occasional flash of red in the dominating blue eye.

The monitor laughed in a somewhat high-pitched voice, drastically different from its previous voice. “It’s so good to see you again, Recl- Hmm. Interesting, the Reclaimer I know is different. You seem to have a different genetic structure and combat skin, although it was the same class two he used.” The voice was high-pitched, much like the monitor’s new voice.

Wait, he sounds like… Mark recognized the voice from years-old recordings. But this is impossible! Thel'Vadam confirmed his death!

Mark drew his DMR and pointed it at the monitor.

“How are you still alive!?” Mark demanded.

“I am a genius! Heeheeheehee!”

***

“The fucking things are turning on us! We have to fall back from the structure!” Soarin heard over the radio. He’d been about to turn back when he heard that.

“Looks like we’re still on,” Spitfire said from her jet.

The two of them were flying F-35As carrying air launched cruise missiles tipped with W-80 nuclear warheads, each one set to the maximum yield of one hundred fifty kilotons. They were fifteen minutes from Manehattan.

Is this what grandpa and the crew of the Hockscar felt? About to wipe out an entire city, fully aware of the destructive potential of their payload?

Military aviation ran in Soarin’s blood. Practically every stallion in his family had been an aviator since the Second World War. His great-uncle flew an F-86 Sabre during the Coltrean War. His uncle had been shot down over Vietmane and kept in the infamous Haynoi Hilton, and he still had the physical and mental scars from that. His father had flown for the Royal Equestrian Navy from the late-70s to the beginning of the war in Afghaneighstan, and been involved in every conflict in that period.

But his grandfather had been on the Hockscar, the B-29 Superfortress that dropped the Fat Stallion on Neighgasaki. His grandpa had never talked about why he retired from the REAF, and it wasn’t until Soarin was in high school and doing a report on Equestria-Nippony relations for his International Relations class that he came across the names of the crewmembers of the two infamous B-29s.

When he saw his grandpa’s name, it all clicked. Now he knew why he’d quit. When he confronted his parents about it, they told him not to talk about it to anypony. He understood why.

Now here he was, possibly about to live through the same emotional Tartatus as his grandfather. He knew that five things could happen now. First, could abort the strike by order. Second, he could abort anyway and be dishonorably discharged from the REAF and the Wonderbolts. Third, he could be shot down. Fourth, the humans could pull through and he could abort the run without suffering any consequences. Fifth and last, he and Spitfire could execute the mission as planned, sentencing millions of ponies to death.

The first four all seemed appealing compared to launching the missiles. He wasn’t even killing enemy civilians, he was killing ponies who loved Equestria just like he did.

***

“Perhaps introductions are in order, I am-” The monitor began before Mark cut him off.

“343 Guilty Spark, monitor of Installation 04.”

Every SPARTAN knew the tale of John-117; the soldier everyone in the UNSC thought of as a hero, and whom all SPARTANs looked up to in a way no other being could approach. They all knew about his fight on the Alpha Halo, on the Delta Halo, Earth, the Ark, and the rebuilt Alpha Halo. They knew from his reports and the reports of his allies, although only the Arbiter survived to tell of his final battle.

Because they all knew his story, they all knew of Guilty Spark.

And now it seemed Mark was meeting him.

“How are you still alive?”

“Before I engaged the Reclaimer in battle on Installation 04-B, I sent a copy of myself from the Ark using the superluminal communication relay to reach the nearest Forerunner installation, which was here.” With that last word, his blue eye flashed red for a moment.

“And what do you want?”

“Why, to avenge my rings and the Ark, of course! The Forerunners did pick their Inheritors so poorly.” His eye flashed red for those last two words.

“And how are you going to do that?”

“As we speak, I am turning the sentinels against the denizens and defenders of this metropolis. Unfortunately, their stubborn IFF subroutines have reduced their combat efficiency to a mere ten percent against you and the ‘ponies’. It matters not, there are easily enough to exterminate the population of this city.” His eye was red for the whole last sentence.

Mark had heard enough. He holstered his rifle, activated his sword-gauntlet and charged. He leapt and cleanly bisected the monitor.

“Destroying my body solves nothing, Reclaimer! This entire structure is under my control! In fact, I am this fortress,” Spark’s voice boomed. “Flee if you wish, I shan’t stop you.”

Mark returned the way he came, and jumped to the gunner’s seat on the Warthog. Lukas got in the driver’s seat and Alexander got in shotgun.

“Floor it!” The ‘Hog accelerated forwards, hitting its top speed in seconds. Mark looked at the clock; he had fifteen minutes to midnight.

“The fuck happened? First those Sentinels show up and kill every Covie in a snap, then they turn on us! Why?” Alexander demanded.

“Two words. Guilty. Spark.”

The Warthog continued heading back to the surface, retracing its path.

“I don’t believe it!” Lukas blurted.

“Believe it. When we get topside I’ll transmit my mission feed to the fleet for analysis. I don’t think they’d believe me unless they had vid evidence.”

The Warthog emerged into the moonlight. Mark’s clock said he had seven minutes until midnight.

“Keep going, you two make the jump in the ‘Hog!” Mark ordered.

“Sir, why?”

“If Andraste is in position, they’ll need a spotter.”

The Warthog stopped, and the two of them looked at him as he jumped off.

“It’s been an honor, sir!” Alexander said solemnly. Lukas nodded and gave the best salute he’d ever give.

“Likewise.”

The Warthog sped off and made the fifty meter jump to the ground. Lukas and Alexander flashed their acknowledgement lights green to let him know they were okay.

Mark keyed a link to Admiral Hunt “Admiral, I’ve confirmed that the Sentinels have gone haywire due to a rogue monitor. I’ve sent you the vid record of this op.”

“Then the nuke is our only option. We can’t let those drones get out of this city.” Hunt said, full of regret.

“No,” Mark reproached him. He opened a link to the frigate a few kilometers from Manehattan. “UNSC Andraste, lock onto my current location and fire.”

“Uh, sir, that structure won’t survive a MAC round impact; it’ll collapse with you on it,” The ship’s captain replied.

“We can’t risk the nuke. Besides, how’ll you hit your target without someone to mark it?”

There was a short pause.

“Admiral, make the call,” Andraste's CO requested.

“Thompson, I can’t ask you to do this…” Hunt said.

“Sir, it’s why you sent me here. We both know it’s the only way.”

“Admiral, we’re out of time. We need to fire.”

“Proceed on target. Thompson, I’ll never forget this.”

“Target acquired, firing in twenty.”

“Thompson, they got the target, now get outta there! Move it!”

Mark ran as fast as he could, faster than many SPARTANs could sprint, pushing the limits of his armor. He saw the ledge approaching, and when it was right in front of him, he jumped.

The frigate Andraste fired twice, and the rounds impacted the structure dead on. The pressure wave from the resulting explosion was enormous, sending Mark flying. He hit the ground, still alive, and tried to get up when he was buried by rubble from nearby buildings.

I’ll see you soon, Twilight.

***

Soarin heard the twin blasts of sound, louder than thunder.

What the fuck?

“Major Spitfire, Captain Soarin! This is Admiral Hunt of the UNSC Navy; call off your attack now!”

“They’re dropping! It’s over man, they did it!” Ground chatter came through. There was a lot of cheering going on.

“Major Spitfire, Captain Soarin. This is Princess Celestia. Abort your attack run now!”

“Yes ma’am!” He pulled his jet and put it on course to return to base. Soarin couldn’t find words to express his relief.

***

Several days later, Dagger team regrouped in front of the ruined Forerunner structure, Lieutenant Rosenkov having returned. They explained what had almost happened, and Mark’s sacrifice to prevent it. Wall, Carpenter, Helia and Twilight Sparkle were all present for the retelling.

Helia was sad to hear that Mark had passed, and leaned against her newly minted fiancée, Lieutenant Curtis Wall.

Carpenter took out a Sweet William and lit it to celebrate the victory. “To Mark!” He said, putting the cigar in his mouth.

“To the brothers and sisters who ain’t here,” Alexander concurred.

“Do you know where his body is?” Twilight asked solemnly. “I’d like to pay my respects.”

“I have an idea of where,” Lukas answered.

He led them to a pile of rubble a few dozen meters away from the destroyed structure. Sticking from it was Mark’s rifle.

***

Mark awoke to find himself buried under several tons of rubble. There was room for him to move a little, maybe enough to get some of the debris off of him. He could see light coming from in front of him. And he could hear voices, one of which caught his attention.

Twilight. She’s alive.

Mark shoved a rock out from in front of him, letting in more light. The voices on the other side intensified, and he could see the rocks in front of him moving. A purple aura enveloped and lifted several tons the rubble pinning him down, allowing him to stand up. He walked forwards and picked up his rifle before slinging it over his shoulder.

It was a beautiful day out. A few cotton-like clouds in the sky, the sun still rising to its midday position, and a light breeze swaying the leaves on trees.

The group in front of him just stared in awe that he was still alive. Mark walked out from the shadow of the destroyed Forerunner structure. He walked towards the street, and they followed him.

Pelicans, Falcons, and REA helicopters flew overhead. In the streets, civilians and soldiers were hugging, kissing and cheering; pony, human, griffon, donkey, mule, it didn’t matter. Joy was the rule of the day for most of the civilians.

Mark removed his helmet and smelled the air. It still smelled like death, smoke, gunpowder, just like it had before. But now that scent wouldn’t be getting any stronger.

Mark turned around and looked at his friends. “Start spreadin’ the news,” He began singing.

“I’m leavin’ today,” Twilight joined in, smiling.

Honorable Intentions

It had been twenty-four hours since Mark had emerged from the rubble in Manehattan. He was in a Pelican dropship escorting Twilight Sparkle back to Ponyville, where her friends had been worried about her and eagerly awaited her return. After he got Twilight home, Mark expected to be sent off on another mission.

“Colonel, incoming communication from Admiral Hunt,” The co-pilot shouted back.

“Put him on,” Mark responded.

A holographic figure appeared in the passenger compartment.

“Colonel, in one of the compartments above you should be your fatigues, and a travel bag with some clean sets for you to wear. When you get to Ponyville I want you to take some time off.”

“Sir, I need to be at the frontlines, or behind them. I don’t have time to goof around.”

“Thompson, you’ve been on mission after mission since the incident with the UNSC Just Cause four months ago, and then you had to fight through Manehattan just to survive. You’re bruised, battered and tired, and you need some serious R&R. Send your armor back up here, and find a place to stay. If you can’t find one, we’ll set you up with one. Get some rest, that’s an order. Hunt out.”

The transmission ceased, and the figure disappeared. Mark grabbed a set of fatigues and a few electronics, removed his armor and put the clothes on. In a daze, he’d put on the dirty fatigues he’d worn through Manehattan, and put the weathered set of M52B torso armor on too. He grabbed his dirty M6G sidearm and stored the M319 IGL. He sat down next to Twilight, who was also wearing her gear from the Manehattan campaign.

“So, Admiral Hunt wants me to take some time off. Mind if I stay at your place, Twi?” He asked reluctantly.

Twi gave him a smile in return. “Sure. I’ve got a guest bed that’s just your size. It was supposed to be for the eventuality that one of the Princesses would stay at the library, but they’ve got their own royal tents now.”

“What’re you gonna do when you get back?”

“Take a nice long bubble bath, wash and brush my mane. You?”

“Take a shower, sleep.”

The ride took another hour, and the Pelican landed outside the library. They walked in to find the lights out.

“Surprise!!” They heard from all around them, as the lights flicked on to reveal a gathering of ponies. Hanging from the walls was a banner that said “Welcome home!” Mark saw Ethan and Jason, and walked to meet them; Twilight went to hug her friends.

The partygoers snuck glances at the two of them, noticing that they still wore the clothes and weapons from their time in Manehattan. The bruises and scars from that time disturbed them, as most had never seen injuries so severe. And there was a human walking around covered in bruises and cuts.

Mark sat down next to his teammates.

“You look like hammered shit, boss,” Ethan laughed.

“And you look like some pretty-boy actor, but I’m not giving you a hard time,” Mark responded. “But yeah, I could use a shower and some bed rest, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“Not a shave or haircut?” Jason queried.

“Nah. I’m gonna leave my hair like this; the ‘Unsettler’ hairstyle suits me. At least, Emmerich calls it that. And the beard I’ll keep too. Good coverage but still short. Plus I can still comb my hair into something neat if I have to. Anyway, what’s up with you two?”

On the other side of the room, Twilight was talking to her friends.

“Twilight! It’s so good to see you,” Rarity said after their group hug. “But we really need to get you cleaned up, and out of those clothes. Spa, tomorrow at three, the six of us?”

“Sure, Rarity.” She said. “But just so you know, this was one of the most popular clothing styles while I was in Manehattan.” They all laughed at that.

The party lasted a few more hours, before Pinkie used something she called her “reverse party cannon”, which cleaned up the entire library and confused the SPARTANs, who were unfamiliar with Pinkie’s reality-defying antics. Everypony said good night, and left.

Twilight showed Mark his room, and he set his bag down in there. He plopped down onto the bed and drifted off.
Meanwhile, Twilight took that bubble bath she’d talked about, and got out half an hour later. She hugged Spike before getting under the covers of her own bed and falling asleep.

***

Mark awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of crying. When he investigated, he found Twilight crying into her pillow, and Spike trying to console her. The purple dragon just looked at him, his scaly features indicating a level of confusion; he had no idea why she was crying.

He kneeled next to her bed and put his hand on her lavender shoulder. “Hey,” He whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Twilight began to speak in between sobs. “Star-Swirl. I always wanted to meet him, always thought he was a noble pony. But he’s a monster! All my life I wanted to follow in his hoofsteps, but now I realize how horrible doing that would be. And to think any of my ancestors worked with him in creating the greatest tragedies and atrocities is too much to bear.”

Mark rolled her over and looked into her eyes. “You’re not your ancestors. You’re not bound by their sins, and they’re not as accomplished as you are. How old are you?”

“Twenty-two?” She sniffed.

“And at just twenty-two you’re the personal protégé of Princess Celestia, and an Element of Harmony. What have they done that comes close to that? You’ve saved Equestria more than once, and you haven’t let it go to your head. You’re better than him, and you’re better than them.”

Twilight smiled and sniffed again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They both went back to bed, Mark glad to have helped, and Twilight comforted by his words.

The next day she began to catch up with her friends, and hear about what they’d done while she was gone. Mark took a shower and changed into clean clothes, leaving his hair and short beard alone after he washed them. They read a few books and Twilight sent a letter to Celestia telling her about her experience in Manehattan

***

Earlier that night, Ethan was crawling into a tent he’d set up outside Ponyville. He didn’t have a place to stay, so he’d made a camp. He’d never gotten along well with civilians anyway, so he considered his newfound time off a sabbatical from civilization. He’d maybe do a bit of hunting, watch a few movies on his datapad, make s’mores and read some Robert Ludlum.

After getting inside the tent, he heard wings flapping outside, but assumed it was a nocturnal bird, although probably not an owl. It seemed he was wrong.

“Ooga-booga-booga!” Rainbow Dash yelled, popping her head into the tent. She smiled at Ethan’s deliberately goofy grimace and laughed at having been able to get him off-guard.

“Hey Dash, what’s going on?” Ethan said, removing his previous frown.

“Not much, Eeth.” She crawled into the tent. “Just checkin’ up on you.”

“Really?” Ethan smiled. “If you were ‘just checking up’ then you’d have gone already.”

Dash put her forehoof on the back of her head, obviously nervous. “Well, I was just wondering if you’d like to hang out tomorrow.”

“Sure. Where and when?”

“Sugarcube Corner at noon. We’ll figure out what to do over milkshakes.”

“Sounds good. See ya then.”

“Cool.” Dash flew off, leaving Ethan alone again.

Just before he fell asleep, he had a realization.

Holy shit, I’m going on a date tomorrow.

***

Around 10 PM, just after Fluttershy had finished putting her animals to bed, a knock came on her door. Angel went to investigate, and peeked out the window. On the other side was Jason, who held a bag in his left hand.

“Who is it, Angel?”

The bunny tapped out the visitor’s name in Horse code.

“Oh.” Fluttershy opened the door.

“Hey Fluttershy. I need a place to stay right now, and I was wondering if you had somewhere I could sleep.”

“Well, I um, I only have a couch and a bed.”

“I can take the couch.” Jason walked inside, stepping over Angel. He dropped his bag by the couch and plopped down.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I have to be up extra early tomorrow to help with the bunny census.”

“Fine by me. I’d like to help, actually.”

“Well, if you want to help, I won’t stop you. It’s really not necessary, though.”

“I’d rather help a lady out than sit on my hands. It’s as much for me as for you.”

Fluttershy smiled when he called her a “lady”. “I’ll get you up at five,” She said.

Jason dozed off, his head resting on a pillow on the cushions, just as his feet lay atop the sides.

***

That morning, Mark awoke expecting gunfire and explosions or the faint sounds of a starship and its crew; something familiar. Instead, it was just the sound of the branches of the tree-library swaying in the cool morning breeze. He suddenly remembered where he was, and smiled. He was surprised to actually be enjoying this peace and quiet.

He got up and dressed himself, rubbed his eyes and walked outside. There weren’t any birds singing, or any real ambience. A glance at his HUD told Mark it was a bit past six in the morning. A few ponies were out and about, going about their daily routines. He caught an occasional glance directed at him, but he ignored them; after all, he was still an alien.

He began to jog around the town, his direction random as he studied the layout and committed it to his memory. By seven ‘o clock, he had covered every road and alley in the hamlet at least twice. He returned to the library to find Rainbow Dash conversing with Twilight inside.

“-I’m saying is I’m worried. Manehattan’s been clear for days now, and her parents should be back,” Rainbow Dash stated.

“What’s going on?” Mark inquired. He took a seat inside and picked up a book he’d been reading.

“We’re discussing what to do with Scootaloo,” Twilight explained. “Her parents are still missing. They’d gone to Manehattan on business, and got stuck there during the invasion. We think they’re still alive, but-”

“They’re dead,” Mark deadpanned.

“What!?” Twilight and Dash exclaimed together.

“I saw them get crushed by rubble. I know it was them because I saw them talking to Scootaloo over a webcam hours before. They even said her name.”

And if I’d tried I could’ve saved them, He didn’t add. He knew with the augmented abilities his armor gave him he could have extracted them from the rubble before the whole place came down.

“Now what?” Rainbow Dash asked after a long period of silence.

“Somepony has to tell her,” Twilight responded.

More silence. The two mares alternated between looking at the ground and at Mark.

“We should probably figure something out before we tell her. She’ll need a place to stay, and there’re no orphanages in town. I don’t want to tear her away from her friends either, because now all she’s got is them,” Twilight said, breaking the silence.

“I know she’s like, my number-one fan, but I couldn’t take care of her full-time, even if I wanted to. Between being a weather pony and all the other stuff I do, I don’t have the time.” Dash’s wings drooped to the ground, which she stared at in what seemed to be shame.

Twilight was visibly consumed in thought. Her brow furrowed, her lips were pressed tightly, she squinted slightly, and her gaze drifted to a spot on one of the bookcases.

“Fluttershy already tends to animals most of the day, so she can’t do it. Rarity might be able to do it, but given that she already has trouble putting up with Sweetie Belle’s antics, that’s really not much of an option. Pinkie is, well, Pinkie. Applejack works most of the day and only has just enough time for her family, so I don’t think another filly would turn out well. Rainbow just said she can’t do it…” She donned a look of determination. “But I think I can…”

“You’d do that?” Dash asked, surprised. “I mean, I get it’s just temporary, but still…”

“It’s the right thing to do. I have enough spare time on my hooves to care for her, and since she’ll be crusading most of the time, it wouldn’t be a non-stop job either. It won’t be easy, but I can do it. I’ll take her in the day after tomorrow.”

“Alright. Thanks Twi.” Rainbow Dash left.

Mark and Twilight went to reading. Mark read an anthology of H.P. Lovecraft, and Twilight immersed herself in the new Daring Do book. They read for hours, both finishing their books in one prolonged sitting.

***

Jason had been helping with the bunny census for several hours now. With his advanced mathematical skills, he found it to be no problem at all. Fluttershy kept the rabbits still while he counted them with remarkable speed and accuracy. The first few times Fluttershy counted each family herself after hearing Jason’s quick assessments, worried that he wasn’t giving it real effort. Whether or not he actually gave an effort didn’t seem to matter however, as she found each assessment to be spot-on.

She quickly found herself relying on his skills, letting him count while she recorded the numbers. By noon, they had covered the area Fluttershy had been assigned. Previously it had been an all-day affair, but Jason had made it significantly faster.

“Thank you for helping, Jason. This used to take all day, but thanks to you I’m done already,” Fluttershy stated graciously.

“My pleasure.” Jason looked at her and smiled. While he looked at her, he tripped and fell over a large root protruding from the ground. Fluttershy cantered over to help him, only to trip and fall onto his chest as he rolled over onto his back.

They shared a brief moment as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Fluttershy blushed.

“It’s fine. You’re one of the better things I’ve had on top of me.” Jason smiled softly, and then realized his innuendo as Fluttershy blushed even more. “Oh! I didn’t mean it in that context. Not that I uh, find you unattractive; you’re beautiful- Not that I’m trying to hit on you… Although you’re a pretty nice mare, and I-”

He was cut off as Fluttershy hugged him. After taking a moment to process what had just happened, Jason hugged her back. They released each other at the same time.

“Would you like to walk and watch the clouds together? I left enough food and water for the animals to make it through the day. I mean, if that’s okay with you…” Fluttershy proposed sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Jason responded, smiling. “I’d like that.”

***

Ethan waited at Sugarcube Corner for Rainbow Dash to show up. She did so, albeit fifteen minutes late. She trotted in and took a seat.

“What’s up, Eeth?” Dash greeted him.

“Not much. Just you bein’ late,” He joked.

“Hey, I never said exactly noon. Anyway, there’s a showing of ‘The Exponydables 2’ in an hour. It’s got Arnold Schwarzeneighger and Buck Norris in it!” She placed her hooves on her cheeks, inadvertently making an odd facial expression. “So awesome!” She removed her hooves from her cheeks. “You in?”

“Sure.”

They spent the next fifty minutes discussing various topics, like how Ethan used his armor if it was so heavy, flight, and rumors regarding the sexual orientations of the Elements of Harmony. The last one irked Dash.

“I mean c’mon! Just because we go on adventures together and our group is all-female doesn’t mean we’re all like that! And the tomboy-lesbian stereotype is the basis for singling me out, just because I don’t like girly stuff that much."

“Personally, I resent stereotypes like that. There’re manly girls and girly men, and based on my experience in the UNSC Defense Forces, those traits don’t have much bearing on orientation. I think they’re just a way of portraying the LGBT community as something besides normal in an effort to promote their exclusion,” Ethan agreed.

“That’s… Actually that makes a lot of sense.” Dash looked at the clock on the wall. “We better get going if we’re gonna make the movie.”

They went to the movie, and sat through its entirety. It wasn’t deep or philosophical, but neither of them really expected that. However, it was very enjoyable, practically an action comedy. Ethan, who was aware of the cultural parallels between humanity and ponies, and attended movie nights onboard UNSC ships whenever possible, understood most of the tongue-in-cheek references to other works of the actors.

***

The three SPARTANs stayed in town for another day before they were called back out. They got onto a Pelican and rode to Cavalia JSB, where they would receive their next assignments. When they got there they were escorted to a single room. In the center was Lieutenant General Jordan Taylor, who commanded the land forces of Eagle Sword. The gray-haired general officer pushed his glasses up and looked at the men before him.

The soldiers saluted.

“At ease. As you know, the Covenant fleet lost two of its smaller ships this month, bringing them down to eleven vessels. Right now they’re recuperating, making them ripe targets as some of their expeditionary forces retreat to the North Pole. Unfortunately, something else has come up.”

Taylor tapped a button on his datapad, which brought up a map of Unikraine and Equestria. Several red dots appeared on the two maps, indicating areas of interest.

“Thanks to data obtained by Major Greer and Captain Natick,” Taylor said, nodding to Jason and Ethan. “We’ve obtained invaluable, albeit disturbing, information regarding Unikraine and the CM alliance. It seems that the Unikrainians have recently begun providing support to the CMs, and vice versa. Now given that Equis was in the middle of a Cold War that stretched longer than our planet’s when we arrived, and still is embroiled in it, we shouldn’t be surprised. But while previous conflicts used proxy nations to do battle, with the two sides never really engaging in direct warfare between each other, this is using a proxy to directly attack the enemy’s homeland, something unprecedented in either of our histories.”

Taylor brought up images of Manehattan burning, and the Statue of Harmony heavily damaged.

“Unikraine provided the resources and transport for the CM attack on Manehattan, and even fired a few of their own SS-N-21 submarine-launched cruise missiles into the city in the confusion of the attack. What’s more, there are several army groups preparing to attack Equestria. We are on the brink of a three-way world war between Equestria, NETO and the UNSC, the Covenant remnants, and the new CMU alliance. Your implants will now relay the location of a briefing room for each one of you.”

They did indeed. In a single-file line they left the room, and headed to their new assignments.

***

Captain Ethan Natick reached his briefing room first. Inside was a platoon of UNSC Army troopers dressed in desert fatigues, and two ponies.

“Hey Eeth, what’s up?” Rainbow Dash greeted him. She wore fatigues that matched the troopers’. Applejack was there too.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Ethan was surprised that Dash was here, in the same briefing room as him. Had she gotten a military position without him knowing?

“I’ll explain that,” A black man spoke up. He walked to a desk and got the attention of the personnel assembled. “My name is Lieutenant Colonel Harold Gordon. All of you have been briefed on recent developments, and I’m going to tell you what you’re supposed to do about it.”

A large screen on the wall booted up and displayed a picture of the Equestrian West. A red box appeared around a section of it, and the box’s contents were enlarged to fit the whole screen.

“During a routine training mission near the settlement of Appleoosa, an REA helicopter flight took hostile ground fire from an unknown enemy. Presumably this came from a small quantity of CMU alliance forces operating in the area. You’re being sent to set up a station in Appleoosa and investigate this threat. The ponies here,” Gordon gestured to Applejack and Rainbow Dash. “Are familiar with the inhabitants of the area and will aid your efforts to obtain intelligence in the AO from the locals. You are to protect them with your lives. Once the nature of the threat is determined, we will judge the most effective means of response. You leave in five hours.”

***

Major Jason Greer entered the room he was ordered to go to, and found a group of ODSTs and an ONI officer.

“Gentlemen,” The officer began. An image of Unikraine appeared on a large screen, and zoomed in to an area in the northern reaches of the country. That area then appeared on another screen as it zoomed further to reveal a military complex in the mountains. “This is the OKB-512 Design Bureau, one of the top think tanks in Unikraine. We’ve assembled a scary picture using information from a variety of sources; a deep cover mole codenamed ‘CARDINAL’, intercepted SIGINT that covers the extent of that field, and a few double-agents, among other things.”

He tapped a button on his datapad, which brought up images of several UNSC designs; vehicles, small arms, armor. A few other objects appeared too.

“As you can see, the Unikrainians are using data from the Mamba PMC to manufacture UNSC weaponry, as well as make several of both group’s own designs a reality. They’ve already produced several hundred units of VANITY armor and accessories, as well as tens of thousands of small arms, hundreds of vehicles, and thousands of sets of body armor for the host ponies. Additionally, several types of walkers reverse-engineered from the earlier MJOLNIR armor versions and Cyclops exoskeletons have been designed and built there.”

“OKB-512 is headed by three individuals.” Three dossiers appeared onscreen, and one of them enlarged to fill most of the screen.

The enlarged image was of a completely bald Caucasian male who seemed to be in his mid-fifties with average fitness levels, and a salt-and-pepper beard wrapping around his mouth. “The first is James ‘Jim’ Ward. He heads the R&D section of OKB-512. He is well-liked by everyone and everypony in the design bureau. He personally oversees the development of all projects, and is in charge of a few, such as OKB-512’s version of the VANITY armor, and the aforementioned walkers.”

Next, a stern-looking Mamba officer appeared. His hair was black with a prominent widow’s peak, his features were plain, and his complexion fair. “This is Major Leo Sobec. He commands the security at the facility, both the ponies and the humans. He runs a tight ship, and has top-notch counter-intelligence work by the ponies at the Second Chief Directorate of the KGB; all of our intel comes from sources outside of the bureau’s staff.”

Last was a slate gray unicorn. “Major General Neighgovich is in charge of the entire facility, and has the final say on any major decisions made. His political clout is also significant, and is partially responsible for the facility’s success; he has had no problems obtaining funds for the facility, and its success earned it praise from the Politburo.”

The dossier pictures zoomed out, and the ONI officer straightened his uniform.

“Each of these individuals is to be terminated with extreme prejudice, and the facility destroyed to the fullest extent possible.”

The officer took a breath.

“This is a black operation; it does not, nor will it ever exist. If you are identified, both Equestria and the UNSC will deny all knowledge and claim you went rogue. This is a pre-emptive strike, nothing more or less. If you are captured or incapacitated and are no longer able to help complete your mission, you are to detonate a micro-bomb located inside your armor; this will destroy your corpse and equipment, rendering you unidentifiable. However, that must be an absolute last resort.”

“How are we being inserted?” Jason asked.

“The REAF has provided a B-2 Spirit for this mission. You will be flown in as close as possible and make a low-altitude jump out of the aircraft’s bomb bay, which has been modified to carry special forces. From there you will use your provided equipment to accomplish the stated objectives.”

***

Mark Thompson arrived at his briefing room last. Inside was a single earth pony stallion.

“You’ve been chosen by somepony very high up for this op.” The pony turned to reveal a navy blue coat and black mane, orange eyes gazing coldly at him. His voice was very gravelly.

“What are my orders?”

“Make contact with a friendly agent, a Griffon codenamed ‘Widow’, who is embedded in a cell of the Ponies’ Liberation Front. From there you will aid them in accomplishing a series of objectives, which will be radioed in. After we recall you in an undisclosed amount of time, you and Widow will execute your comrades without mercy. It cannot be allowed to escape that Equestria and her allies were in collusion with a known terrorist organization. You will be inserted into the mountain forests of southern Unikraine via a "civilian" cargo plane. Drop pods could be detected by the Unikrainian air defense radar stations, but a stealth bomber is the surest way to penetrate the area. I assume you know what to do if you’re captured?”

“Escape, or failing that I self-terminate.”

“Good man.”

Back in the Saddle

The ride to Appleoosa took three hours and twelve minutes, the travelers cooped up inside their Pelicans for the duration without so much as an in-flight movie. Some of them just decided to take a nap, which wasn’t terribly difficult considering that the seats were comfortable for humans. For ponies on the other hand, or hoof, it was an agonizingly slow journey.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack would’ve preferred to have taken the train, since then they’d have things to do, although it would’ve taken whole day to make the trip then. When the dropship slowed, they let out sighs of relief; they could finally get out of this flying prison.

The humans, all of whom wore desert BDUs, just yawned and stretched as they awoken from their naps and enjoyed the feeling of limbering up. They checked their weapons and gear to make sure everything was right, and walked to the doors as the dropship slowly descended.

Ethan, who was in the same Pelican as Rainbow Dash and Applejack, likewise stretched and yawned, having slept through the flight. He put his gold-visored CQC helmet on, ran his hand across the UA mod and HUL on it, and checked his weapons.

His trusty MA37 assault rifle was working fine. It was cocked and locked, meaning if he needed to use it all he’d have to do is flip the safety off. His M45 Tactical Shotgun was likewise loaded and ready to go, and he was carrying flechette rounds in addition to the standard buckshot.

The bay door opened, revealing a Warthog, a Scorpion, and four Mongooses deployed, in addition to the tents being removed from the other two Pelicans. The troopers stepped out, followed by Ethan and the ponies. A few Falcons carrying cargo and some troops had landed also.

The operation’s CO, Major Zero, was directing the soldiers as they set up their camp. They were just half a kilometer from the nearest building in Appleoosa, allowing them to quickly respond to any situation there if need be while still giving them adequate space.

Ethan walked up to him and saluted. “Major.”

The graying officer smiled. He had a scar on his left cheek that was pronounced when he smiled. “Bloody good to have you onboard, Captain. I need to get Task Force FOX set up, but we need to get on the mission ASAP. Take the ponies into town, ask around about the disappearances and odd happenings, etcetera.”

“Yes sir. Dash! AJ!” The ponies looked at him, waiting for him to say what he needed. “We’re headin’ into town. I’ll need you to help me with the locals.” He began walking to the town, his boots leaving fairly deep prints because of the massive weight of his olive and black armor. The ponies’ hoofprints were shallower, quite logically.

After a couple minutes of walking, they reached the settlement.

“Welcome to Aaaaaaaaaappleoosa!” A cheery voice sang from the town square. Ethan turned to see a peach-colored earth pony in a brown Stetson and vest. Applejack cantered up to him.

“Cousin Braeburn! Good to see ya!” She hugged him for a few seconds.

“Good to see ya too, cousin Applejack! You too Rainbow Dash.” He eyed them, noticing the desert combat fatigues they wore. “What’s with the new duds?”

“Well, I reckon y’all saw those aircraft back there. We’re part of a small force sent to investigate the crash near this here town, and what somepony thinks might be Unikrainian forces ‘round these parts. We’re just 'civilian advisors', though.”

Braeburn suddenly looked worried. “We’ve lost some ponies AJ. We don’t know what happened to ‘em, but they gone missin’ in the ol’ canyons near here. We all figured it was just some mountain lions or snakes or somethin’ but if there’s Kranies 'round here, that’d explain it. But maybe that means they’re still alive.” He looked hopeful during that last sentence, but a sort of guilty hopeful.

Ethan radioed the Major. “Major, this is Mav- I mean, Captain Natick.” He’d forgotten that since this was a so-called “white” operation, he didn’t need to use his callsign, or at least not yet. “We’ve got a lead. How copy?”

“Solid copy, Captain. Fill me in.”

“A local indicates that several ponies have gone MIA in a canyon near here. They attributed it to animals, but the local looked worried when we mentioned possible Unikrainian forces in the AO. He thinks that might explain the disappearances, and so do I. I recommend a night raid using Falcons to get us in the canyon, using fast-ropes to deploy.”

“Agreed. Continue interviewing the locals until then. Every scrap of intel helps.”

Ethan looked down at Braeburn. “Where can I get more information on the area? Maps, plants and animals, local landmarks, information on missing individuals, I need it.”

“Th-there’s some fellas at the saloon wh-who can help ya out.” Braeburn stuttered as he finally noticed the seven-foot armored figure, whose impersonal tone was as intimidating as his massive stature.

“I’ll come with, I could use a drink,” Rainbow Dash stated.

They walked to the wooden building, which sported a large worn sign. The iron sign in question hung from the front porch, which displayed a cross-eyed mare wearing a Stetson and drinking a mug of something.

They entered through the swinging doors, expecting everypony to turn around to see the newcomers. They failed to emulate that cliché.

The bartender gazed at him harshly. “We got some missin’ ponies posters in th’ back, maps too. You lookin’ fer a reward?”

“No. Give them to me and I’ll be on my way.”

The bartender disappeared into a back room, and returned a few minutes later with several rolls of paper. Ethan took them and strolled out, before he realized Dash wasn’t following him.

As if she knew why he’d stopped, she reassured him with a grin. “I’ll stay here, Eeth. I don’t think anypony’ll give me trouble now.”

He smiled back under his own helmet, and nodded. “Don’t get too hammered, okay RB?”

“Will do.”

***

Several hours later, the sun was setting on Appleoosa and the nearby UNSC camp. A team of nine troopers and Ethan were going over maps of the canyon nearby, and memorizing the missing ponies. One of them wasn’t a pony, rather she was a young female buffalo named “Little Strongheart”. Other than that, they were fairly average.

“Okay, people listen up. The force remaining here at base is Alpha. We’re going to be Bravo and Charlie teams. Bravo stays with me, Charlie will be deployed on my command. I’ll lead Bravo in to recon the area, and we’ll radio in for Charlie when we find the missing civilians. Charlie will defend the civilians while Bravo and I continue searching for hostiles. We will fast-rope from our Falcons and proceed northward, towards the area where the civilians went missing and the REA heli was shot down. It’ll get cold, and we may have to stay overnight, so bring your survival gear. If the civilians are highly malnourished, remember not to let them eat too much; too much food too soon after a period of starvation can kill, and often does. Load up soldiers, we leave in five!”

Ethan walked to the UH-144 Falcons and took a seat in one. The pilots started the engines, kicking up dust from the rotor and jet wash. Within minutes, the troopers began to pile into the Falcons, taking their own seats. One by one, they called out that they were onboard, and when they’d all reported in, Major Zero gave the pilots a green light to take off.

The twin-rotor helicopters gained altitude and tilted forward, picking up speed. The ride was short, the transports flying fast and low. Within a few minutes, they’d reached the drop zone.

“Okay, Bravo team, get hooked. Charlie, you’re on standby, get those side-mounted MGs ready just in case.”

Ethan and Bravo team attached their belts to the ropes, and checked to make sure they were secure. After checking, they sounded off.

“Bravo two is hooked!”

“Bravo three hooked!”

“This is Bravo four, I’m hooked!”

“Bravo five, all set!”

Ethan took a deep breath before giving the order. “Bravo lead here. All Bravo, descend!”

The five of them slid down the ropes and into the canyon at high speed. Their boots hit the ground with only the noise of dirt and rocks being moved under each boot. Ethan activated his night vision, and the rest of Bravo put on their NVGs.

“Save your batteries, only use the goggles when necessary. Flashlights when NVGs are recharging. There’s supposed to be caves around here, so we might be doing underground fighting; no moon to give us light down there,” Ethan whispered over his comms.

They all flashed green acknowledgment lights and hung their goggles around their necks. The team advanced through the canyon quietly, with Ethan on point. Each time he heard a rustling sound in a bush he would motion for them to stop. And each time it’d be something like a Jackalope, a Cactus Cat, or in one case that drew chuckles from the group, a Chupacabra in passing, carrying a noisy owl as a passenger on its back.

After proceeding for another hour, they saw smoke rising from up ahead. They all knew this sign meant intelligent beings.

“Heh. About time. Okay Bravo, we’ve got company up ahead. Stay low, return fire only,” Ethan ordered. “Put on your NVGs and follow my lead.”

The soldiers donned their goggles and activated them. Crawling on the ground, Ethan led the soldiers to an overwatch point and began to observe the camp below.

The camp had several tents, circled around a campfire. In the far end were the civilians, tied up and lined up for execution. Three ponies, clad in Unikrainian uniforms, pointed their weapons at the civilians and flicked off the safeties.

The soldiers took aim and fired.

Point Insertion

Jason and his team of ODSTs were in a large aircraft hangar and wearing their armor. While the silver-gray of his armor was fine for this mission, the ODSTs had been given winter camouflaged armor with improved insulation systems. The plates featured a white and gray splinter pattern, and the underlying bodysuit was a standard black. Their visors were their normal blue, the same as Jason’s.

The ONI officer from before brought them to a table covered in weapons, ammunition, and equipment. All of it was laid out and well-organized. None of the weapons had any camouflage paint on them.

“Gentlemen.” The officer nodded at the team. “You’ve been given a lot of toys for this op. You can already tell your armor is different, with better insulation and an improved oxygen-recycling system to aid breathing in the thin air. It also has a bomb built into it to destroy your corpses if need be.”

The spook walked to the left-hand side of the table, where there were weapons and ammunition.

“Your M6Gs are standard, no modifications. Some of the ammo you’ll be issued is special, though. They are subsonic, self-suppressing rounds that contain the excess gas, reducing the noise level to that of an M6/SOCOM. All of you have two suppressors for each rifle, meaning you’ll get a spare; that means that your M392 DMRs, MA37 ARs can be used as stealth weapons in addition to your sidearms when loaded with the subsonic rounds.”

He moved to the middle of the table. On that section lied segments of the ODSTs current armor, ration bars, canteens, and survival equipment.

“You’ll be subsisting entirely on nutrient bars to save space. Biofoam canisters are in each of your backpacks, and the SPARTAN here already has extra in a thigh attachment. You will be eating and sleeping in your armor, and using the waste-management function to avoid exposing yourself when excreting bodily waste. Your urine will be recycled into clean water to supplement your existing supply.”

The officer then walked to the right-hand side of the table. They had odd-looking pistols arrayed out.

“You will be given grappling hooks, modified from the M363 Remote Projectile Detonator. These will be vital for scaling walls, cliffs, buildings, etcetera. After firing them, they can be hooked onto your belts, and set to shorten as you climb, or to simply give some resistance to downwards motion. Basically, they provide all the essentials for scaling and descending any sheer face.”

The officer began to walk towards the B-2 Spirit they’d be dropped in, and beckoned the soldiers to follow. The seven of them marched behind him.

“You’ll be dropped from this aircraft. AV-20 Spirit of Ponnysylvania. The flight will be several hours, and you will deploy by jumping from the modified bomb-bay. You will open your chutes immediately, and upon landing you will activate a disposal mechanism which will incinerate the chutes. Once you are on the ground, you will advance to the base and begin accomplishing your objectives. You leave in two hours.”

***

Twelve hours later, the SPARTAN and his six teammates were over the southern reaches of the Arctic Ocean, on the other side of the world. The air on the interior of the bomb-bay, where the operators were located, was negative twenty degrees Celsius, and their suits showed it as they frosted over. Outside, it was negative forty degrees, and at the low altitude they were flying, that wouldn’t change much when they parachuted in.

The co-pilot spoke over the radios tp wake the sleeping passengers.

“Thirty to drop zone. Get prepped,” The co-pilot announced, stirring the sleeping troopers.

The troopers all began a final series of checks to ensure they were good to go. Bolts were pulled back as they made sure their weapons were loaded. Chutes were checked to ensure no-one would fall to their death because of a dud or poorly packed chute.

“Two to drop zone!”

The bay doors hummed as they opened. Below them, the snowy peaks of the Unikrainian mountains reflected the moonlight in the perpetual darkness of the Arctic night; it was night now, and it would be until spring.

“Ten seconds to drop!” The pony shouted.

“Five, four, three, two, one! Hit it marines!” Jason blared over their comms.

The team leapt out of the bay and into the white abyss. Within the first five seconds, all of them had opened their parachutes. Half a minute after, they had all landed.

A few hours were spent regrouping. Another few hours were spent travelling to a secure enough area, which they could use as a rest area and base camp of sorts. By the time they’d reached the snow-cave and assured themselves that there were no hostile fauna present, they were exhausted.

They set up two shifts to watch the area while the other group took a four hour nap. Eight hours later, they were all well-rested and ready to begin moving. They exited the cave slowly in a single-file line, cautiously watching for aircraft or patrolmen of any sort.

They moved south towards their objective.

***

“Yeah, that’s real funny, Private. Now if I catch you fucking around on duty again Koontz, I will tie you to a pole, knock out your teeth, slather your balls in honey and let some of the lab boys’ pet fire ants go to town on your impotent dick!”

Private Koontz stared at Major Sobec. Or rather, his visor. He was a very intimidating man, and in a suit of VANITY armor, he was exponentially more so.

His armor was the dark red of a Mamba Major. His EVA helmet had a blue polarized visor with a skull carved in the front. His torso seemed even bigger as a result of an armor permutation, and his shoulders were well-protected. His entire appearance seemed meant to be protective and inspire fear.

Most Mamba officers had unique armor that suited their personalities, and Sobec was no exception. The wide view of his EVA helmet signified his paranoia, the skull representing his ferocity. His bulky armor further inspired awe and provided more protection. For a skilled and feared security professional, it seemed perfectly representative of him.

“Dismissed!” He roared. The soldiers he had been straightening out ran to their posts. None of them wanted to incur his wrath.

“Major, the radar boys have something for you. Head on over to the command center,” Sobec’s assistant said over the radio.

He exited the barracks and greeted the snowy arctic night. Around him he could see the various buildings that made up OKB-512. The trams hummed as they ferried troops, supplies and scientists between buildings. Mambas and ponies clad in heavy coats patrolled the area, weapons perpetually ready.

The snow beneath their boots was a few inches deep, and each step was left in the material to be filled in by the end of the “day”. The whole base was pockmarked with such holes. Icicles hung from rooftop overhangs and tram rails, frost clung to the sides of structures and the uniforms of the guards.

It took a few minutes to get to the command center, most of which was spent waiting for transports to pass him. When he reached the center, a pair of Mambas in white VANITY armor saluted him outside the entrance. Their armor was modified with add-ons to increase their efficiency in an arctic climate; a ghillie hood to put over their helmets in heavy snowstorms, a small display on the hood’s harness to aid teammates assessments of their allies’ condition, a winterized tactical softcase for extra ammo, thick Grenadier kneepads, a reinforced buckler on the left wrist to use for shattering ice and mounting devices, as well as Grenadier shoulder pads and a matching helmet.

A brief scan confirmed the Major’s ID and opened the door to an airlock, which promptly sealed. A second scan ran over him to make sure he was free of contaminants, and after it ceased the room pressurized to match the rest of the command section.

He weaved through a dense mix of ponies and people, his goal being the radar specialist at the end of the room. Finally, he reached his man. Or rather, stallion.

“What is it, lieutenant?”

“Sir, we picked up a radar ghost a few hours ago. We were scanning with long wavelengths like you suggested, and we got something. Faint at first, but the sig got stronger for a minute and a few objects appeared on radar as well. They were small, but still…”

Leo Sobec had expected this. The Unikrainians were getting too damned obvious, and it was only a matter of time before the Equestrians launched a pre-emptive strike. A review of the log revealed that the signature matched best with a B-2 Spirit, which had been rumored to have modified versions designed for covert insertion. It looks like those rumors were right. The “objects” falling out were probably special ops.

With haste, Sobec marched to General Neighgovich’s office and opened the door.

“Sir,” He began, wincing under his helmet as he addressed a fairy-tale animal as his superior. “Radar logs indicate an REAF B-2 dropped a payload in the mountains north of here. I believe their payload was a strike team based on the radar signatures. About seven men or ponies, possibly a mix. I’d recommend bringing the base to yellow alert.”

The unicorn stared at his visor coldly, almost disinterested. “I will raise the base to yellow alert within the hour. Make sure our defenses are ready, I’d hate to leave our guests to wander aimlessly in the cold.”

Correspondence

It had been several days since Mark had left, and Twilight Sparkle felt alone. She didn’t know why, but she did. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were out of town, which led to the cancellation of that week’s Pony-Pet Playdate. Rarity was entirely occupied with a large order of dresses she had to fill. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie were doing volunteer work at Ponyville General, which precluded her spending time with them.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been on her own due to her friends simply having booked schedules, in fact it happened with some regularity. But still, books were having little effect to fill the void in her soul she felt right then. Her latest attempt, which was to read the newest Daring Do book, failed a mere two pages in despite the exciting hook at the beginning.

Twilight looked to the clock on her wall, staring at it intensely. It was five after ten in the morning according to the slender hands of the clock, and the seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow rate. But it was that persistent feeling of loneliness that continued to bother her.

I started feeling like this a bit after Mark and his friends left. Sometime around then, something occurred to impart this feeling. The question, quite clearly, is what? It feels as though there’s an emotional hole, a wound.

I’ve felt like this before, I know I did. When, where?

Manehattan. After the first time Mark checked on me, when he left for an assignment I felt like this. Then when he came back covered in blood and bruises I felt worse. And when I thought he was dead, even more so.

But, none of my friends stimulate such an emotion by their absence. The common factor is Mark, so I must have a different sort of bond with him. But my friends and I, we’ve done so much together, been through so much together, and we’re the Elements of Harmony. What stronger bond is there than a combination of those?

The answer dawned upon her, and her features clearly displayed it. She tried to rationalize it away as a result of shared trauma, but she couldn’t, no matter how much logic she applied. All she came up with instead were positive attributes Mark had.

Strength of will. Duty. Loyalty. Mental resilience. Discipline. Compassion. Selflessness. Honor. Modesty. A sense of humor. Good looks as far as humans went. Intelligence in not just the sense of knowing facts, but being able to apply them and improvise solutions under stress.

I love him. But how do I tell him? I don’t want to ruin a friendship, one of the few he has, by springing this on him. I can’t ask my friends, because they’re all busy. Spike is in the same boat as me, so he’s not worth much as far as advice goes.

Twilight cantered upstairs to her bedroom and levitated a scroll from a box. She rolled it out, the parchment levitating in front of her as she lay on her bed. A quill and an inkwell floated nearby, and she began to write.

***

A familiar puff of smoke materialized in Princess Celestia’s chambers, condensing into a rolled up scroll wrapped in a red bow. It had been some time since she had gotten a friendship report from Twilight or her friends. She was surprised to find that this was a note of a more personal nature.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’m sure you’ve noticed already the hoofwriting is different for this letter than it usually is. I chose to write this letter myself rather than let Spike take the letter because its subject is personal in nature.

Until now I’ve never thought about it. Love, I mean. Not about whether it’d be with a stallion or a mare, and not about sexual attraction of any sort. I could’ve been accurately described as asexual or aromantic. But now I think I might be in love.

I don’t know how to tell him, because he always seems a bit distant. Friendly and caring, but distant. We’ve argued before, but we always made up. He doesn’t have many friends, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship by telling him I love him.

I need your advice. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in love, but I’m sure your wisdom will help me.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

***

To my faithful student,

I’m very happy for you. I know I sent you to Ponyville to study friendship, but to think I helped you to find love makes me happy in ways I cannot express. Love is something that goes beyond friendship, and perhaps someday I’ll tell you about the stallion I loved.

I think you should wait for an intimate moment before telling him. Perhaps when you two are alone at some romantic spot. But before you tell him, please tell me who the lucky stallion is.

With love,
Princess Celestia

The response had come quicker than Twilight had expected, and she was elated by the positive response she’d received. A new scroll hovered in front of her as she drew up a response.

***

Dear Princess Celestia,

Thank you for responding so quickly. I was thinking of asking him out on a date, but I don’t think either of us would know what to do on one, since neither of us get out much per se. I’ll tell him when the time is right, though.

About him; he’s not a stallion, but you’ve met him before. His name is Mark, you know, the SPARTAN who saved my life several times? He’s always been kind to me, there when I was down in the dumps, there when I was hurt, there when I wallowed in self-pity. I’m happy to be his friend, but I want to be more.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

“Oh dear,” Celestia murmured. She immediately considered this a doomed romance, one she would not wish upon anypony, least of all her star student, whom she privately considered to be one of her closest friends. No, more than that. She was the daughter she'd never have.

The Princess had outlived her own lover, and it haunted her to this day. To let somepony so close experience the same remorse, and not even with the comfort of knowing that it was a natural and peaceful death, was an unthinkable cruelty.

***

To my faithful student,

I’m quite concerned about you now. I grant that Colonel Thompson is an excellent warrior, but that’s all he is, a warrior. There are several clinical terms for what you’re experiencing right now, but I’d rather not degrade you by using them.

You’ve always been idealistic about aliens, since your first science fiction book. Always told me about how friendly the advanced beings were.

Sigmund Frog would say that this attraction is a result of his similarities to your brother, and I would be inclined to disagree based on said psychologist’s infamous sexualization of most everything. But even then his similarities are less than they appear.

I strongly urge you to re-assess your true feelings about him.

With love,
Princess Celestia

“Wha- What? What the hay does that even mean?”

Twilight furiously jotted down a response, and asked Spike to send it to the Princess. The baby dragon sent it without hesitation, although he was suspicious of this sudden exchange of letters.

***

Dear Princess Celestia,

You always told me that love could conquer all, and could only be destroyed by the partners themselves. I realized how much I care about him, and you told me I’m wrong to do that. Can you please explain to me why that statement is no longer true?

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

Celestia sighed deeply, a lament heard by nopony but her pet phoenix, Philomena. This would be difficult for her.

Mother, give me the strength to turn her back to light.
***

To my faithful student,

I’m sorry to tell you this, but it was never true. When I told you that you were but a filly, just beginning your time under my wing. I couldn’t in good conscience tell you what a dreary place the world could be, and I expected you to realize that I had told you a falsehood when you became older and wiser. It seems that I was wrong.

I outlived my love, and shortly after his untimely death his family shunned me for supposedly leading him on. His sister’s rage still burns me inside, knowing that the mare who introduced him to me would reject me, and that I would be robbed of somepony who was truly mine. It is better you don’t know the circumstances under which I subjected myself to her rage.

I know the Colonel’s few friends would likewise reject you for deluding him into believing he could have something of his own, not because they would think you caused a betrayal, but because you would give him a false hope. Though I abhor such defeatism, it is a fact of life that many die unfulfilled, unhappy, unloved; their profession their only purpose, and some lack even that. As tragic as his existence is, there is nothing that can alleviate it more than temporarily.

Colonel Thompson is a soldier, a necessary one, but an Agent of Disharmony, while you are an Element of Harmony. No matter how much you want to reality be otherwise, there can never be a happy ending for you two.

I care about you more than you can know, and that’s why I urge you to realize that you don’t love him. I know you could never fall in love with a man as dark as him, and I don’t want you to be hurt. I sincerely wish it could be otherwise, that you could spend your lives together happily, but some things are not meant to be.

Please, don’t waste your life on a lost cause. I sympathize with him as you do, but I know his miserable existence can only continue as such. The sooner you realize this, the sooner you can find somepony to love, somepony who can give you the time you deserve.

With love,
Princess Celestia

Twilight’s jaw fell more than seemed equinely possible. The Princess of the Sun was saying that her's was a reckless and stupid love, oblivious to facts. And she was right, as the young mare had scarcely thought of anything more than the present. But a single letter was not nearly enough to deter her.

***

Dear Princess Celestia,

I have to disagree with you. Mark may not be completely innocent. He may not be the most cheery man either. But he's been through everything this world as well as his own and dozens more had to offer, and he still hasn't hurt an innocent being. If he hasn't done it yet, I don't think he is able to.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

This was turning into a test of will and wit. Celestia had the advantage as far as eloquence and experience in debates, but her student held the advantage of defending. Unfortunately for her, she’d side-stepped the Princess’ points for the most part, leaving her open.

Ironically, while Celestia tried to dissuade Twilight Sparkle from a romance with a soldier, she herself was using skills not entirely unlike those of a military leader; drawing out parts of the opposing argument so that the points made earlier could be pushed further.

But she knew things about Mark's past some of his teammates didn't. Not all soldiers were "Agents of Disharmony", and neither were all SPARTANs, but some just happened to be so, causing pain and violence beyond what was reasonably necessary to achieve a goal; Mark was one of them. He did not promote chaos, but some of his actions sowed hatred among those affected by them.

***

To my faithful student,

I’ve read reports on some of the missions Colonel Thompson has been on, and the things he’s done are enough to make a pony sick. When he returns from his current mission, ask him what he did; he’ll either lie or dodge the question. And eventually, he will die in some forsaken land, leaving you behind.

He is a killer capable of torturing and murdering without hesitation, and I don’t want you to associate with a monster like that. He knows nothing but war, and his only experience as a regular person extended to age six; from there all he has done is train for war and make war. I grant that these things are not his fault, but they are facts that cannot be changed.

His sole devotion is to his perceived duty. While he may not like doing some of the things he does, he does them anyway, and doesn’t hesitate at all. He believes that the end justifies the means, and that morals have no place in his work. I believe that the kindness he has shown you is nothing more to him than cultivating an asset.

I urge you to realize the fate you would bring upon yourself by loving him. Do you really think he can change? That he could grow old with you? That he could genuinely love you? The tragic answer is that he cannot.

I’m sorry Twilight, I really wish that you could be happy with him, but he’s simply too mired in darkness to see the light of your love. But these are dark times, and perhaps an Agent of Disharmony like him is what is needed to defeat the evils we face, with malice of his own. He may be a lesser of the evils on this world, but he is still one of the evils that plague us.

Cruel. Ruthless. Self-loathing. He is a blade of darkness, honed to a fine edge to slice through the evil with which it belongs. As an Element of Harmony, you are a shield of light that protects us all, and to spend time with him is to corrode your own purity and righteousness. There is a song he is allegedly fond of, one he derives too much meaning from. It is called “Sympathy for the Devil”, and I fear you grant him that request.

Please look to your moral compass and right yourself, before you fall as he has.

With love,
Princess Celestia

There was nothing Twilight could do to counter this, but her emotions remained unharmed, perhaps even strengthened. She couldn’t help but be offended by her mentor, though she understood the good intentions behind her words. Celestia meant what she wrote, not out of malice, but genuine sympathy. Despite some opinions that she was a heartless tyrant, the Princess had one of the biggest hearts there were, and only the best for those close to her.

But she's not infallible. She's wrong about Mark, she has to be.

As if on cue, a new letter appeared in front of her. It hadn’t gone through Spike, and the material it was written on was not familiar. It was quite clear that this was a different sender altogether.

She almost threw it away, thinking it was mistakenly sent to her. At least until she saw a strangely familiar eye on the wax seal, and a pair of names attached.

The first name was completely familiar; it was hers. The second was familiar and yet alien; she’d heard it and read it, but never met the owner. “Argus” it read, a mythological guardian with a thousand eyes.

He curiosity piqued, she gently slid off the ribbon binding the scroll, and unfurled the paper.

Twilight Sparkle,

It has come to my attention through the surveillance carried out by my subordinates that you have a problem. Your mentor is rejecting your emotions, attempting to use logic to overwhelm an inherently illogical emotion. I can put you in touch with Colonel Thompson, who is currently operating here in Unikraine. A face-to-face meeting with him can be arranged, and all I ask is that you give me a chance. Rest assured, I am not operating on behalf of the Unikrainian government.

An ancient temple in southern Unikraine is where some of my associates and I are currently located. Below are the coordinates of the structure, and a pair of spells. One is to help you find the temple, and the other is to allow you passage through the many wards projected within that would otherwise impede your progress.

One last thing. The area in which you’ll be searching is a known stronghold of the Ponies’ Liberation Front, a terrorist organization based in the region. As such, I’ve sent one of my stallions, a unicorn by the name of “Steel Saber”, to protect you.

Attached are plane tickets for a flight from Canterlot International to an airport in the Coltcasus, where Mr. Saber will be waiting for you.

With sincerity and hope,
Argus

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Something came up and I have to go out of town for a while. I’m not sure how long.”

Later, onboard the flight, Twilight would look back astounded by how quickly and easily she’d made the decision.

Author's Note

I never intended to write Cruelestia in this chapter. I wanted to make her pragmatic, logical, and caring all at the same time. Twilight is the daughter she'd never have, and the last thing she wants is for her to get hurt. And let's face it, she knows the kind of things Mark does, and how dangerous his job is. Heartbreak is a pretty reasonable expectation for that kind of romance.

There's no reason for anypony to believe that Mark would harbor feelings toward Twi, and SPARTANs have experienced more loss than anyone, so any potential partner could be used as an antidepressant (This is why Leroy Jethro Gibbs' second wife divorced him, she felt he was using her as an antidepressant for his loss of his wife Shannon and daughter Kelly).

And given that he hasn't hesitated to use torture in this fic except to make sure nobody saw him torturing, we can extrapolate that he's tortured before, which would likely be in the files on him Princess Celestia has read. Seriously, could someone that emotionally calloused be any good as a lover?

Two-Face

“There are two kinds of black ops, Thompson. There are what I like to call ‘blacklights’, which are black only because of the sensitive nature, and mostly justified; these can be declassified after a few decades. Then there are ‘pitch blacks’, which will never see the light of day because they are so morally reprehensible and difficult to justify. This operation falls within the latter category.”

The ONI spook who was giving him a detailed briefing, standing alongside the pony who’d first given him the assignment, pulled a tarp from a table covered with equipment.

“This op is as black as a singularity.”

The set of armor in front of him was visually similar to normal ODST armor, but with a few key differences. For one, it was painted olive drab instead of black. The rucksack was a normal UNSC Army pack, in black to match the black body glove underneath the armor plates. There was a flashlight mounted on the side of the helmet, which was more common on older models that lacked the integrated VISR system; ODSTs fighting in the Inner Colonies, and probably Reach, had worn this same set of armor. However, the helmet itself seemed to have a VISR system, meaning the flashlight was a mere supplement.

His weapons were familiar. An M392 DMR, his favorite, and an M319 grenade launcher, also a favorite of his. But there was also an M6G, which seemed to be loaded and issued with M225 Semi-Armor-Piercing High-Explosive rounds of both normal and self-silencing varieties. It had a black finish instead of the electroless nickel plating it normally had.
The ONI spook noticed he was eyeing the pistol. “The rounds are self-silencing, but have a lower velocity. Still deadly, but not as deadly as the louder ones.”

“Nice. I like the black finish. Less flashy than the normal M6G.”

“Yeah. It’s just as resistant to corrosion, but the process used to coat it is more expensive and time-consuming than adding the usual nickel plating, so it isn’t used as much. You’ve got a couple suppressors for your DMR too, so you’ll have plenty of flexibility in how you engage enemies. The ‘nade launcher has some special ammo in addition to the normal. It’s quieter, but it doesn’t have any lethal payload. Instead, it has a parachute and camera that scan the area and feed directly to your visor. You can recon an area with it, and it’ll stay airborne for a minute on average.”

“This all seems a bit bulky and awkward for me to parachute in with. Any of it being dropped on a separate chute?”

The spook frowned. “No. There’s been a change of plans and we have to insert you via an ‘emergency landing’ in a civilian cargo plane. Hiding in plane sight, pardon the bad pun.”

Mark grinned.

When that spook said that he’d be inserted via a cargo plane malfunction, he wasn’t kidding. It would have been more accurate to call it a controlled crash, as the aircraft skidded to a halt on a dirt landing strip. The landing gear buckled during the touchdown, leaving the belly to grind against the chocolate-colored ground. When it stopped, Mark twisted a latch on the inside to open a hatch and bailed out, sprinting off into the dense forest.

The forest was littered with leaves, fresh green and aged brown alike. The trees themselves weren’t shedding their foliage, indicating the forest was evergreen.

After traveling a kilometer, the SPARTAN stopped to rest for a moment and check his location. His VISR indicated he was around a dozen kilometers from the point he was to meet the Griffon agent.

***

“This is as far as I go ma’am. The temple is yours,” Steel Saber deadpanned. He motioned for Twilight Sparkle to enter, and so she did.

Part of why she was doing this was Mark, just to see him and tell him how she felt. But another part was to find this “Argus”, who’d displayed frightening omniscience through his awareness of her letters. She needed to know who this was; her innate curiosity demanded it.

The halls were decrepit and brown, moss growing on the walls and hanging on the ceiling. The architecture was completely unfamiliar to her, and the age of the structure seemed to exceed written history. The walls seemed to be covered with faded inscriptions, which appeared to be magical glyphs, but in arranged in a syntax unknown to her.

Twilight’s subconscious nagged at her, telling her she was forgetting something. She knew it was right, but she couldn’t remember what it was, nor could she spare the time and focus to deduce what it was. So she pressed onwards, faint echoes haunting her ears.

***

“Where is she!?” Mark demanded in Unikrainian. He was interrogating a Unikrainian officer, who was strapped to a table. He needed the location of a VIP who would be traveling through the area.

“Fuck your mother!”

This wasn’t an ordinary VIP. This was the Premier’s wife. An alicorn; the mother of Princess Cadence, and the sister of Celestia and Luna. She defected early in the previous century, and became head of the Socialist Republic of Unikraine’s propaganda ministry. Her name was Pax.

“Fuck this shit, let me off this glue-sniffer right now!” ‘Widow’ yelled in English. She pressed a P226 against the unicorn’s cheek and pressed her talons against his throat. She was the second pissed-off griffon Mark had seen up close.

“Go ahead, you don’t have the horseapples!” The officer taunted in his own language.

“Widow, you simmer the fuck down, your time’ll come. I’m getting the car battery,” Mark bent over and reached into a cabinet inside the shed they were in, and pulled out an overcharged car battery and a pair of jumper cables. He carried them over and set them down next to the restricted stallion, hooking the jumper cables up.

“You ever wanted to try fried pony testicles, Widow?” Mark joked.

“Nah. Always got weirded out by those kinds of food; brain, testicles, all the fucked up cuts of meat out there.”

“I haven’t had meat in ages, but I ain’t eating his nuts.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The Krany officer demanded.

Mark turned to him and picked up the unattached ends of the jumper cables, one in each hand. He clicked them for emphasis. “Widow, pull off his uniform trousers.”

So she did. Mark attached the cables to the unicorn’s nether regions and let the electricity surge through his body for twelve seconds. He unclipped the cables, only then noting the scent of charred flesh and burnt fur, as well as the sound of panting and sobbing.

“This can have a happy ending for you. You tell us what we need to know, and we set you free. You can tell them about how barbaric we were and how steadfastly loyal you were if you want, that’ll be a good propaganda victory for your guys. You get to be a big hero, and all you have to do is tell us where she is.”

The officer kept crying, but he nodded.

“Hit him with some morphine, just enough to make the pain bearable.”

Widow inserted a syringe into the stallion’s chest and pushed in the plunger, the opiate entering his system and slowing his heartbeat.

“In a convoy of civilians, hiding in plain sight,” The officer muttered. He outlined the time and location they’d be most vulnerable to a strike.

“Thanks.” Mark shot the prisoner in the head, killing him instantly. “You’re free to go.”

***

“What is he doing,?” Twilight wondered.

The elderly unicorn smiled at his potential disciple, though she was entirely preoccupied with the events on-screen, or lack thereof. She still hadn’t deduced his identity, nor had she detected the disguise spell Star-Swirl had used.

On a nearby screen, hidden cameras, or a spell to the less aware, was transmitting a live feed of the Colonel. A feed Star-Swirl knew would break her. She’d already doubted her mentor, the so-called ‘Goddess-Princess of the Sun’, in favor of a barbarian she’d fallen for. Now she would question the one she'd fallen for.

***

The explosives were in place. The detonator was in Mark’s hand. The convoy was on its way. One of the vehicles had his target in it. The rest were decoys. He had no way of figuring out which one she was on. The only logical solution was to destroy all of them.

So he waited, all alone to kill a VIP. An eternity of silence, with neither thought nor movement. The hum of vehicles caught his ears, and his grip tightened. The first vehicle came into sight, followed by more.

One by one, they entered the kill zone. Then, after several seconds, they were all inside the kill zone. Mark squeezed the detonator, and the two dozen IEDs went off as one. Shrapnel flew through the air, burrowing through metal and flesh alike with equal efficiency, spending mere seconds in the air. In that first moment, everything died.

Mark radioed back to the camp. “Widow, this is Raptor. Target neutralized, going in to confirm.”

“Copy. Confirm it and we might go home a bit sooner. Out.”

So he moved in, activating his VISR to help search for the target. But no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find her body. He searched for another several minutes before locating what was left of Pax. A head and neck, hardly damaged; the rest of the body was mangled horribly, with charred meat all over and chunks missing.

The SPARTAN took a few DNA samples and snapped a few pictures with his VISR. He’d need evidence to prove his kill, and now he had it.

With his objective completed, Mark looked around at his work as if for the first time. He couldn’t manage to ignore the scent of burnt flesh, which he attributed to not having smelled this much of it in so long. Then he saw the bodies. He counted one hundred fourteen; twenty stallions, thirty-one mares, and sixty-three foals.

This brought him back to his early days fighting the Insurrectionists. But with one key difference. He was the terrorist here, the monster slaying innocents.

Mark looked into the flames of the wrecked bus in front of him, still trying to process had just happened. Foals were in there, as were mares and stallions. Ponies who’d done nothing to harm anypony, killed to make a point, for a political purpose.

He reached into a small pouch on his torso plate and removed a picture of Twilight Sparkle from it. He’d gotten a print of the photo before he left, telling nobody and nopony about it. She was smiling in it, completely happy from what he knew of the context it was taken in. It was before humanity or even the Covenant Remnants had come to Equis. A somewhat simpler time, when “peace” prevailed, and the end of their Cold War had been coming fast, an end long overdue.

It’s on me. All of it.

Mark tossed the photo into the blazes and walked away, the bodies of the innocent fueling the fire that licked at it. The picture landed at the edge of the fire, which slowly burnt at the edges, and worked its way to consume Twilight’s face. The image smiled mockingly as it charred, a blackness devouring every feature.

***

“No. No way that’s him.” Twilight refused to believe it was Mark who’d just committed that atrocity, and shook her head madly, her eyes squeezed shut.

The Princess can't be right, can she?

“Widow, this is Raptor. Objective complete, RTB.”It was unmistakably Mark’s voice. Even through his helmet and the compressed audio they were receiving, the lament in his voice was there.

The warrior began to jog towards the PLF encampment, and he arrived twenty minutes later.

***

Mark was greeted by Widow, who looked oddly striking in the morning light, at least from the neck up. She wore fatigues patterned in the 21st century British Multi-Terrain Pattern. Her main weapon was a standard-sized M4A1 with a Trijicolt ACOG and an M26 MASS slung underneath. She also had a coyote brown tactical vest to provide protection to her torso.

“You got the proof?” She asked, going straight to business.

Mark tossed her a small bag with the DNA samples and a jump drive containing copies of the pictures. She caught the bag in one talon without flinching.

“Nice work, Thompson.”

Mark quickly drew his pistol, which was loaded with silenced ammunition, and pressed it against the back of her neck. Nopony in the camp noticed. “Don’t use my name again, not in the field.”

Widow didn’t flinch. In fact, she grinned a bit. “I only know your last name. My first is Gilda. I expected the hero of Manehattan to be a bit more gracious.”

Mark grunted and withdrew his pistol. “I’m no hero. Never was, never will be. I’m just a soldier sent to do some wetwork.”

Red Moon

Three ponies, clad in Unikrainian uniforms, pointed their weapons at the civilians and flicked off the safeties on their AN-94s. The whimpers and sobs of the captive ponies could be heard from the ridge Ethan and his accompanying Army troopers hid on, thirty meters away.

The soldiers took aim and fired as one. Before the unicorn soldiers could pull the triggers with their thaumatic grips, 7.62x51mm rounds flew from the MA37 assault rifles and M392 designated marksman rifles of the soldiers on the ridge. The bullets, large by the standards of pony firearms and armor-piercing to boot, weren’t as effective as expected against the captors, but still lethal.

Bravo team slid down the walls of their ridge and closed on the camp. The other guards fell under the surprise attack as the humans advanced, undeterred by the green tracers flying at them. While the normal troopers took cover, Ethan charged and let loose two-round bursts on his targets.

He closed in on the hostages and fired a few more bursts before reloading.

“Bravo, we clear?”

“All quiet.”

Ethan sauntered to the quivering hostages and drew his knife. He cut the robes that bound them and removed their blindfolds before sheathing his blade and stepping back to look at the group.

As they stared at him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for them. Scared and helpless, rescued by a green alien. There wasn’t anything he could do to alleviate the xenophobia at the moment.

He put a finger to the side of his helmet and contacted the airborne unit. “Charlie, you’re on. Home in on my IFF and fast rope in. Get these civvies out.”

“Copy. Major Zero wants a word with you.”

“That can’t be good. Patch him in.”

“Captain, this is Zero.”

“I read you, Major. What’s going on?”

“Get those hostages out, make sure there aren’t any others, and get back here on the double. Zero out.”

So Ethan followed his orders. After confirming that all hostages were accounted for, he rallied Bravo team for evac.

***

It was both mind-blowing and ominous. Cargo planes were landing just outside Appleoosa and unloading tanks and other vehicles. Ponies wearing REA-issued Multi-Terrain Pattern piled out of helicopters, rifles slung across their chests.

Tents were being set up, and makeshift airfields marked. Vehicles rolled into organized positions, and applique armor was added on-site. Uniformed mares and stallions lined up and stood at attention.

Without a second thought, she darted back to Appleoosa, where the residents were panicking as their questions went unanswered. Why was the military here in such force? Were they being invaded? Was martial law being declared? Who ordered this deployment?

“Rainbow Dash!” Applejack yelled as she rushed towards her, worry scribbled over her face. “What’n Equestria’s goin’ on!?”

Dash landed next to her and returned her look of fear. “I don’t know, AJ. Maybe-”

“Maybe what?”

“They wouldn’t have sent a supersoldier to investigate a missing helicopter unless something else was going on.” She looked around and lowered her tone. “That means that those theories about Unikrainians having shot down that REA flight must’ve been true.”

“Oh no. Nononononono… Apple Bloom, Granny Smith, Big Mac,” She muttered.

“Relax AJ! They’re plenty far from here, you’re panicking over nothing!”

“I am not panicking, and it is not over nothing! This means Equestria is goin’ to war. Mah brother’s 23, an’ I’m 22. Who’s gonna take care of the farm if our numbers get drawn? Because I know for a fact none of us are 4F!”

“Yeah, you’re 2C; farmers are exempt, doofus! Look, the chances of the draft coming back are slim, and you know that an invasion would make enlistment spike. You’ll be fine.”

Applejack hung her head down. “I over-reacted. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were worrying about the most important thing you have; your family. I’ll stick by you as long as you need me too.”

AJ looked up and grinned meekly. “Thanks, Dash.”

***

The Falcon Ethan rode in approached Appleoosa, and he could make out the silhouettes of aircraft on the ground as he gazed downwards.

So they’re going to war… We’re going to war…

Two civilian VIPs in the AO. Allied forces on site. Small civilian population. Unknown enemy presence, infiltrators possible. REA has insufficient experience fighting insurgents and insurrectionists due to history deviation in the early 1990’s.

Some of the locals seemed skittish earlier, a different skittish than most of them. Unikraine has a 77% unicorn population. Small unicorn population here. Innies were largely Caucasian and Hispanic, but that made other ethnicities favored for their activities later on because they were less expected.

In counter-insurgency and counter-intelligence training, they talked about the Cold War back on Earth. Russians were known to have institutionalized their racism. But in the mid-20th century when Somalia fell, they rescued and recruited several African youths to use as spies. One of them was found to be in possession of a Soviet nuclear device in southern California in late 2012. It was discovered by some military police or something.

The point of that lesson was to never count a suspect out because of their traits. Certain demographics might be more sympathetic to a cause than others, but those “others” are an equal threat.

“Pilot, take us down in the plaza.”

“Sir, my orders are to land-”

“Then just take me down to twenty meters.”

The pilot did as he was told, and Ethan leapt from the tilt-rotor craft to the dirt below. A twenty-meter fall was nothing to balk at, but his shields took the brunt of the damage, and recharged as he looked around, giving him a golden aura for a brief moment.

A gawking REA corporal stared at him, and his visor stared her right back.

“Two civilians. Desert fatigues. Mares. One pegasus, one earth pony. Where?”

“T-town hall, I think,” She stuttered.

Ethan nodded a silent thanks and turned to head for the town hall, which was the tallest structure besides the clock tower. On the way, he noticed that Pelicans were dropping off UNSC vehicles, personnel and supplies near where Task Force FOX had been set up.

Mindful of the potential for close-quarters combat, he switched to his shotgun. Loaded with tungsten carbide flechettes, the M45TS could be a deadly force in even medium-range combat. He had several dozen of those with him, but at the moment it was loaded with the normal 8 gauge magnum steel buckshot, which would still take most lightly-armored enemies out to twenty meters.

But that was just his training working.

Why am I even looking for them?

Because they’re VIPs.

Because they’re friends.

It felt like more than that, like he missed them now. It wasn’t homesickness for sure; SPARTANs didn’t have homes. Whatever ship they were assigned to, and whatever place they were fighting in, that was their home.

It’s not some place I want, it’s somepony. As soon as I really think about Rainbow Dash I miss her, and I want to be with her more than anything. She’s fun to be with, she’s got a real heart helping to take care of Scootaloo, I know she’s a good mare, and she saved my ass from those manticores. I trust her.

What if she doesn’t love me?

If she does, then what?

You know better than to trust civilians, all they see you as is an asset. We’re viewed by humanity the same way the Covenant use Hunters; as machines built for war, not as soldiers.

But she isn’t human, and she actually treats me like one.

She’s going to use you. She still reports to Princess Celestia. Friendship reports aren’t the only thing she can send.

She’s an ally.

The Elites were our allies, and we’re fighting them again.

A faction of them.

And who’s to say ponies won’t turn on us? Politics, allies, enemies; they all change with the times.

There’s no such thing as an enemy in absolute terms. Our enemies today could be allies tomorrow, and vice versa. But to act as if they’ll all change is pointless.

What’ll it be? Loyalty to the UNSC, or loyalty to her? Your race, or your crush? The mission, or your beliefs? Your duty to your unit, or your personal feelings?

***

After she and AJ had reached the town hall, Rainbow Dash began to think. When she’d said that AJ was just looking after the most important thing in her life, she meant it. But that begged the question, what was the most important thing in her life?

My friends I guess. Scootaloo, maybe. But everypony else has somepony to really lean on, to be leaned on by. They have goals, dreams, and they all make them happen.

Twilight has Spike and her brother and Princess Celestia, her studies too. Wherever she wants to go, I know she can get there. AJ has her family and her farm to take care of, but she doesn’t really have ambitions. Fluttershy has her animals, and she always seems content with them. Pinkie has a gazillion friends, and she lives her dream every day; anypony’d lend her a helping hoof if she asked. Rarity is on her way to being a fashion goddess, and she has her sister.

She sighed as she lay down on a couch.

All I’ve got an adoring fan who thinks I’m invincible, and a heck of a pipe dream.

The approach of heavy hoofsteps from outside stirred Dash from her melancholy, and the door opened to reveal Ethan, clad in his armor. She smiled as he entered, and got to her hooves. AJ took her place on the sofa.

Then there’s him. Competitive, stubborn, cocky, funny, skilled, pretty awesome…

***

The inside of the room was pretty rustic. To the left of the doorway, Dash stood near a couch Applejack laid on.

“Hey, good to see you,” Dash greeted.

“You too. I took care of the hostages, they should be landing around now.” After looking around, he looked back at her. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“There’s an empty stable behind this here buildin’.”

Ethan nodded. The SPARTAN led Rainbow Dash out to the stable and found an empty, clean stall. All that was in it was piles of hay. The pair sat down, and he laid his shotgun next to him. Outside, rotors and engines sounded through the town.

He took his helmet off and rubbed his forehead before looking at her. She was slumped in a nearby corner, an uncharacteristically somber look on her face. An impending invasion had that effect in Ethan’s experience.

“How do you deal with it? War, death, chaos; you just seem so calm in it.”

He sighed. “After my parents died at the Covenant’s hands, I didn’t have anybody. The UNSC chose me as one of a few hundred children, all orphaned by the Covenant, to be in the second class of SPARTAN-IIIs. We kept our first names and were given alphanumeric designations. Mine was ‘Ethan B-052’. They trained us in secret to be expendable supersoldiers, since the public would never accept the kidnapping and weaponization of children. At a young age, we were given augmentations to make us hit harder, run faster, our bones near-indestructible, our vision sharper, our reactions quicker. We SPARTANs have known war all our lives; it’s our purpose.”

“But people know you exist now, right?”

“We’re just faceless automatons to the public. Ironically, you ponies, an alien race, are the first ones to treat us like real human beings. I’ve talked to other S-IIIs with Eagle Sword and they’ve quickly come to a good view of your kind because of that.”

“I’d hate to be you,” Dash half-joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Not enough nap-time.”

“It’s not so bad. We’re like a big family, someone’s usually nearby. We get to see and do things no-one else can.” Ethan looked at her, and realized she was leaning on him. “We get to meet nice mares,” He said with a smile.

She blushed and hugged him. He returned the favor as best he could, given that he was wearing powered armor; mostly he just put his hands on her back. She pulled herself upwards, her muzzle brushing his ear as she got closer to him. He could feel the heat from her cheeks now.

Their heartbeats accelerated and endorphins flowed as they kissed. Whether it lasted a few moments or a few minutes was completely unknown to them. When it stopped, they sat quietly and contently in that shed.

“I love you,” They both whispered.

Author's Note

Well, this is about as explicit as it's going to get. This will not devolve into sex scenes and become a clopfic. There will however be cuddling, because SPARTANs don't get enough of that.

Also, choosing between his job and his love life is a problem. I remember how well it went over for Tony Almeida when he put his wife before national security.

Kryptonite

Mark stood in the Ponyville Public Library, doing what he did every month: taking inventory. It was dull, mundane work compared to what he used to do, but it wasn’t all bad.

He didn’t have to smell blood, sweat and smoke anymore. No more artificial thunder, no more screams of dying men and aliens. He didn’t have to worry about the responsibilities of being a leader anymore. No more wetwork and morally reprehensible activities. Just a quiet peace.

After finishing inventory, he took a seat next to Twilight Sparkle, and she kissed him on the cheek. They’d been together for a few months now, and with Spike and Scootaloo they’d become a sort of multi-species family. They ate breakfast and dinner together, watched movies together, and generally went about life.

Having fled from his past, Mark kept no weapons or emergency supplies. He’d lessened his exercise routine to almost nothing and put on a thin layer of fat.

A blink later, he saw Jason and Ethan dead. Another blink and the Eagle Sword fleet was burning. A changeling ripped out Scootaloo’s throat. A hunter turned Spike into a puddle of semi-organic matter. A Mamba contractor brutally raped and beat Twilight before shooting her.

He was unable to blink. Unable to breathe. He couldn’t move his eyes. He couldn’t move his body. He was helpless, ineffectual, useless.

***

Mark awoke, sweating profusely. Reflecting on his nightmare, he concluded it had little meaning.

Except that my subconscious hates me.

He looked around, and found he wasn’t in the rebel camp; this building looked ancient. It was a stone temple of some kind, similar to the ones seen on the Delta Halo.

After he sat up, he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he realized he wasn’t wearing the modified ODST armor anymore; he was wearing his set of MJOLNIR armor. A glance at the HUD his implants displayed revealed that less than three hours had passed since he’d gone to sleep.

His implants were tamper-proof, precluding the possibility that he was being duped. A quick glance suggested the suit was indeed his armor. Every scratch, scuff and scorch was as he remembered it. Hesitantly, he put on his helmet, and it interfaced with his CNI implant to once again confirm it was his.

There’s still one more test…

Mark opened the hard-case on his left thigh and reached in. One of the few things he kept in the compartment was a small golden cross, given to him by the foster parents who’d raised him before they died in the Covenant invasion of Biko. He’d kept it through his SPARTAN-III training, and through every mission up until he was given his current suit of armor.

When that happened, he put it in there for safekeeping, a sort of reminder of his life before the Covenant. Almost nobody knew he had it. Only Jason and Ethan knew, because he’d asked them to send it with him if he died; whether he was ejected into space in a capsule, buried, or cremated, he wanted that sole memento of peace with him.

He felt around for it, and when he found what he thought was it, he withdrew his hand. There in his palm was the trinket inscribed with his name. He stuck the item back into the hardcase and sealed it. This was his armor.

A golden field enveloped him, blinding him and giving his motion tracker all kinds of presumably false readings. Mark felt a brief period of blinding pain before he found himself in a different room. Panting, he looked around.

“Have a seat, take your helmet off, relax,” A voice echoed hypnotically. Reluctantly, Mark obeyed, resting on a couch. By now, his sweat had evaporated, and he felt that familiar feeling of his second skin return. He was missing his weapons, he didn’t know where he was or how he got there. He was flying blind. But at least with his armor on, he felt almost safe.

An elderly unicorn cantered in, and Mark recognized him immediately.

“Star-Swirl,” He hissed.

The stallion sat down, completely calm. Mark was unable to move very far from the couch he sat on before an invisible wall halted his progress.

“Calm down, Colonel. I’m not going to torture you today. I just want to talk. You can ask me anything, and I’ll answer honestly. But you only get one before I get to ask several, so choose wisely. And you will answer truthfully; you’re in a magical field with that very effect.” He seemed benign in his attitude, even though Mark knew that was an illusion.

“How did you get my armor?”

A soft chuckle. “Ask the easy one, why don’t you. It was in storage on Equis, and one of my agents liberated it. I thought it’d be better if you felt at home, and I concluded that the best way to do that was to give you your armor. Now it’s my turn to ask you some questions.”

Mark expected something involving Eagle Sword’s security. Something Star-Swirl knew he wouldn’t answer normally.

“Do you think you’re going to Heaven?” He asked almost nonchalantly.

“Yes.”

“Really? Someone like you, with the blood of over a hundred innocents on your hands? With thousands of lives taken by you? With all the torture you’ve performed, cruelty you’ve inflicted, violence you’ve dealt out? It doesn’t seem very Christian to me. Of course, I could be wrong.”

No. He’s right… You suspected it years ago. You probably sealed it yesterday.

You’re going to Hell, and you know it.

“No…” He muttered. Star-Swirl seemed to catch it however, as he seemed satisfied.

“Next question, and this is for the camera, because Twilight Sparkle’s watching right now, from a room in this very structure.”

“Hit me,” Mark said defiantly.

“Do you love Twilight?”

His heart began to pound against his ribs as he struggled to lie.

Just a little white lie. You can do it.

“Yes. And I know I’m not good enough for her. I don’t deserve her. She deserves someone better than me. She deserves everything I can’t give her.”

***

“Do you love Twilight?”

The mare in question was stuck in a room, alone. Her only company since Argus removed the transformation spell he’d cast and revealed himself to be Star-Swirl the Bearded had been these screens. All of them showing Mark.

She wanted to feel disgust at what he’d done and to an extent she did. She wanted to no longer be in love with him after she saw him kill all those ponies. Innocent civilians. But the tortured inflection of his voice, the clearly agonizing nightmares he suffered, the obvious regret he showed at completing an objective he had little choice in completing; they all indicated he wasn’t a heartless monster. Were that true, he'd have accepted the collateral damage that masked his presence and moved on calmly.

But part of her still mocked her emotional side.

Princess Celestia was right, Part of her whispered. You’ve fallen for a monster. A man with no reservations for killing or maiming or torturing. Maybe he’s even the fabled Beast, who could just as easily destroy Equis as save it.

I can save him. From himself. He just needs something to hold on to.

“Yes. And I know I’m not good enough for her. I don’t deserve her. She deserves someone better than me. She deserves everything I can’t give her.”

Twilight Sparkle began to break down.

“If you could, would you drop everything to be with her? Assuming you could give her ‘everything she needed’, as you put it.”

“Yes. No question about it.”

***

“So you’d stop being a SPARTAN to be with her?”

“Yes.”

“And you think that given that chance, you could change?”

“Yes, I do.”

Star-Swirl nodded, and closed his eyes to think for a moment.

Mark clung to that hope. It was all he really had, a hope for a better future. He knew he wasn’t the best person, and he probably was going to Hell. But he still felt he deserved to be happy after all he’d gone through in his life.

Constant loss. Physical, mental and emotional pain. Endless conflict and strife filled his existence, with few escapes. A handful of close friends. The occasional movie night onboard a UNSC starship to escape from his taxing life. A life he hadn’t even chosen.

The call of duty would always be there, but its grip on him hadn’t wavered in the slightest since he was first inducted into the UNSC. And now, the realization that even in the afterlife there would be no end to his agony had shattered that. Surely he deserved something in return for everything he’d sacrificed, everything and everyone he’d lost?

Star-Swirl spoke up.

“It might surprise you to know that I'm quite keen on human comic books, especially the ones about superheroes. I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite superhero; Superman. Not a great comic book, not particularly well-drawn, but the mythology; the mythology is not only great, it's unique.”

“Now, the staple of the superhero mythology is; there is the superhero and there is the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spiderman is actually Peter Parker; when that character wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spiderman and it is in that characteristic, Superman stands alone. Superman didn't become Superman, Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent, his outfit with the big red 'S', that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes.”

Where’s he going with this?

“What Kent wears; the glasses, the business suit, that's the costume; that’s the costume that Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views humanity, and what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He’s meek, he’s unsure of himself, he’s naive. Clark Kent is Superman’s critique on the whole human race, somewhat like SPARTAN A-217 and Mark Thompson.”

Ah. So the point emerges.

“You would wear the costume of Mark Thompson, a civilian who goes about his life quietly and unassumingly. But you were raised SPARTAN A-217, and every morning when you wake up, you’ll still be SPARTAN A-217. ”

“Are you calling me a superhero?”

“I’m calling you a killer,” Star-Swirl answered, amused. “A natural-born killer. You always have been, and you always will be. Living in Ponyville, working as the librarian’s assistant. Reading next to her by a fire. Checking out books. That’s you, trying to disguise yourself as a worker bee. That’s you trying to blend in with the hive. But you’re not a worker bee. You’re an extremely efficient killer bee. And no matter how much alcohol you drink, or civilian food you eat, how out of emotionally attached you might get, nothing in the universe will ever change that.”

And with that, Mark Thompson’s last hope was shattered. His past and present were covered in black ink. And now his future was revealed, ironically to be censored with more of that ink.

The quiet hope that someday his sacrifices would be repaid had consoled him for the longest time; it shored up the traits that defined him alongside his perseverance and his sense of duty. Without it, his sense of duty and mental resilience remained intact and as unshakable as ever, but everything else became fragile. He'd said it before, that the only meaning in his life was the mission, but now he felt it was finally true.

On the Widowmaker's Peak

“I’ll sing to her, bring spring to her, and long for the day when I’ll cling to her… Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, am I…” Jason sang to himself, the noise not escaping his helmet. He found it difficult to imagine what a squad of ODSTs would think of a SPARTAN singing to himself.

And who I’m singing about… That’s difficult to explain…

“Major, we’re ready to move,” An ODST told him. His callsign was Blade One, as he’d been the leader of the team before Jason had taken control of it for this operation.

Jason stood up, grabbed his sniper rifle and glanced at his wrist-mounted TACPAD. Looking at a map, they were only a klick away from the compound.

A symbol on his HUD indicated an incoming transmission, so he opened the channel.

“Surgeon, there’s been a change of plans,” Admiral Hunt explained grimly. “A few hours ago, CMU forces invaded southwestern Equestria and several other regions around the globe. This wouldn’t be a huge problem normally, but because of the volatile situation MAC strikes are prohibited. Using them could very well put the Unikrainians in a dangerous state of mind.”

“Sir, I understand that’s an important development, but what does that have to do with this op?” Jason inquired.

“It means that this is no longer a black op, and your mission objectives are changed. We’ve got Shortsword bombers on standby. Get some beacons placed around the facility, they’ll give us crude 3D imaging of the area. Our bombers’ll use that reference to bomb that place to Hell and back.”

“Exfil?”

“A Pelican will pick you up after the bombing run is over. We’ll redeploy you and your team to the Highrim Mountains in the Griffon Kingdom, where you’ll need to assist a local base that’s been under siege since the war started. Right now, you just need to focus on taking out that design bureau.”

“Sir.”

The admiral disconnected, and Jason turned to face his team.

“Gentlemen. We came here to hinder the war-making ability of this country and deter any aggression, but now we’re too late to stop a war. CMU forces are moving all over the planet, and we can’t use MAC strikes because it might provoke the Kranies to use WMDs. We’re getting to that base, planting some beacons around it, and falling back so our Shortsword bombers can turn that base into a crater. A Pelican will evacuate us afterwards and send us to our next mission. This is no longer a black operation, so your micro-bombs are no longer necessary. Let’s move.”

The armored men filed out of the snow cave, which had served as their final rest stop before assaulting the base. While Jason hadn’t tired during their trek on account of his augmentations and powered armor, the elite ODSTs accompanying him weren’t so lucky. As the group continued to the observation point, they noticed that their vision was becoming gradually more obscured by the weather.

When they reached their destination, they all took a knee and checked their equipment one last time. Jason surveyed the base through the optic of his SRS-99, and noted several key positions, and good points for the team to place beacons.

A radar dish was mounted in the near corner of the base, and taking that out would render them blind. A communications antenna a couple hundred meters away from that would render them deaf and mute if it were eliminated. That meant that in two explosions, they could cut the base off from the outside world.

The beacons they needed to place were the size of golf balls, and Jason was carrying a half-dozen of them. One would go between the radar and communications antennae, another atop one of the central buildings, a third at the far end of the complex, and a fourth on their escape route.

The weather was definitely getting worse, which made it a more difficult prospect to engage the enemy in combat. Fortunately, most of the guards seemed to be heading inside as the inclement weather intensified. Several of them seemed to be wearing VANITY armor, however.

As he looked over the area, he noted the vehicles outside that could be used for cover, and several crates made of sturdy-looking metal.

“Okay people, listen up. We’re gonna plant charges on that radar dish,” He placed a waypoint on it. “And the comm antenna over there.” He placed another waypoint. “Two charges and the base will be cut off from the outside world. I’ve got the beacons we’ll need to use, and I’ve got a good arm. If we can manage to stay undetected, we can do this in ten minutes. If we do get detected, we’re in trouble; I saw at least six VANITY troopers down there, and there’s probably more. This is where they’re making most of it, so it makes sense it has a lot of guards using it.”

“Son of a bitch…”

“Sound suppressors on, weapons hold. Follow me.”

Jason slid down the snowy slope, his rifle attached to his back and his M6G out and loaded with suppressed ammo. The ODSTs followed suit, spraying up white powder as they descended.

The SPARTAN hit the ground first naturally, and he grabbed a sensor and threw it into position. The sphere flew a few hundred meters and landed neatly between the communications and radar towers.

Jason marked several guards on his team’s HUDs, all of whom were the only guards who could see them if they tried to plant their charges.

“My count, five,” Jason announced. “I’ve got the one with the DMR.” He activated the smart-link scope on his pistol and lined up a shot.

“I’ve got the smoker.”

“Walker is mine.”

“Two having a conversation, I call leftie.”

“I’ll take right.”

“Fire on my mark… Fire.”

The whispers and claps of their suppressed weapons could hardly be heard in the wind, nor could the five bodies falling limply to the ground.

“Move up. Six and Seven, plant charges on the comm antenna. Five and Four, on the radar. Set them to remote-det on frequency 145.75. One through Three, stay in formation.”

Jason led his part of the squad toward the far side of the base, using a roundabout path, at which point he tossed another sensor almost opposite the first one.

Two down, two to go.

On the return trip, he took a minute to judge another throw before he lobbed the third to a perch atop one of the central structures. That meant that most of the base would be mapped out for the bombers, supplementing their existing knowledge of the base and providing clearer targeting in the snowstorm.

The four of them headed back to the rest of the team, cautiously advancing through the snow. Their boots crunched snow with each step, and the worsening conditions meant that it was more of a struggle to move forwards. Conversely, if they were too slow, they could be discovered by thermal imaging, their icy silhouettes becoming clearer against the colder background.

As they approached their comrades, they noticed that there were more than four of them. A lot more than four of them. One of the newcomers was clad in a red set of VANITY armor, and held a shotgun to one of the ODST’s heads. The others were similarly held at gunpoint.

“Major Greer!” One of them shouted, before receiving a rifle butt to the back of his head.

“So the UNSC decided to send a SPARTAN our way?” A dry voice said over the radio. Using a common UNSC combat frequency, he could be heard by all their soldiers linked up to their comms, even if he didn’t know what channel they used for their covert communication. “Well, I didn’t think our little operation rated that high a strategic value. I’m flattered.”

“If you’re so hot for me, then you won’t mind letting my team go. I’m in charge,” Jason announced. He had no delusions that Sobec would let his men go.

“Obviously. And if you try anything, my men and I’ll ice this half of your team, and then you four afterwards.”

This must be Sobec. He certainly acts like him, and the red armor fits.

Sobec blasted one of the captives’ heads with his shotgun without prompting, turning it into a geyser of gore. Nobody on Jason’s team did anything more than cringe, because they knew what would happen if they made any attempts to get back at him.

“So we understand each other. Good. All of you holster your weapons.”

“Do it,” Jason ordered. His team complied reluctantly.

An eerie silence befell the area, and the snowstorm cleared up in seconds. They could see each other relatively clearly now, though the arctic night still shrouded them in darkness.

Need a plan. Need to make it fast. Need to act fast.

“Okay, we’re going to come over slowly,” He said.

“Good.”

The ODSTs reluctantly followed him as he marched through the snow.

“Follow my lead. When you hear the signal, get to cover and open up. Got it?” Jason whispered over his private comms. All six remaining troopers winked their green acknowledgement lights.

“Keep going,” Sobec ordered.

Jason moved his hands up slowly, and his right hand spent just enough time passing his wrist-mounted TACPAD to discreetly enter a single command. That command would trigger the signal.

The “signal” was a pair of explosions that tore apart both the antenna and the radar dish, as the C-12 explosives each unleashed an enormous amount of energy in the form of a fireball and pressure wave.

The nearest sensor, which was buried under several centimeters of snow by then, was safe from the shockwave and continued to function.

The explosions startled the guards and sent some of them reeling. The ODSTs got to their feet and regrouped with the others, firing their rifles as they went. Sobec regained his composure after a few seconds, but by that time his captives were almost a hundred meters away.

Jason tossed the fourth sensor into position as he and his team fled, and activated his comms. “Admiral, this is Surgeon. Beacons are in place, scramble the bombers and get us that evac!” He turned around and fired a few shots at a pursuing VANITY trooper, with a headshot dropping him.

“Understood, Shortswords are en route from their loitering position, and Pelicans are heading your way. ETA two minutes for the evac, three for the bombers.”

“Sir, vehicles over there!” Blade Three called out, pointing to some vehicles with nearby Unikrainian and Mamba infantry accompanying them. A flurry of high-caliber bullets mowed them down, clearing their way.

Jason got in a snow-camouflaged Mongoose, five ODSTs got in a similarly-painted troop transport Warthog, and the remaining trooper got on Jason’s quad. They all shot forward and headed down the slope of the mountain.

A glance backwards showed that several of the guards were in pursuit, using their own ATVs to follow them. One of them was Leo Sobec. One of the ODSTs primed a grenade and threw it at a group of hostiles, who were sent into rollovers by the explosion.

Sobec’s Mongoose closed on Jason, and he shot the SPARTAN’s passenger until he fell off and died. As they raced downwards, Sobec began to ram the side of his vehicle into Jason’s, and he countered with his own sideswipes. This competition continued for several more seconds, until Jason grabbed the Major’s gauntlet and kicked the side of his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pushing him away to increase the repulsing force. The security chief fell from his vehicle and skidded off of a nearby cliff.

Jason made it to the LZ just as the Pelican arrived, and the ODSTs piled in. He leapt in and pounded the button to close the rear hatch, then sat down. He’d be back in combat soon enough.

Half a minute after the dropship lifted off, distant thunder could be heard.

Author's Note

I'm glad I sent Jason in. Otherwise the brass would've sent in some special forces douchebags with pussy-ass heartbeat monitors on their guns instead of them. Also, ATVs>Snowmobiles.

Under Pressure

Mark still sat opposite Star-Swirl the Bearded, now pondering the fate of his immortal soul. The injustice done to him by the universe, cursing him to a lifetime of war and pain and an afterlife filled with agony.

“Colonel, I realize this is hard for you, accepting what you really are. I know that men like us, who do terrible things for the right reasons, are abhorred by society. But in the Cabal, we accept the need for that kind of individual. We embrace that kind of pragmatism. I’d like to offer you a job.”

If you’re going to Hell, why not?

Because there’s still hope, that’s why. Still a chance that God will understand why you did this. Your fate isn’t set in stone. You could still redeem yourself.

Everything that’s happened to you is because of God! He robbed you of your family, your life, your friends, your future.

Humanity was given free will, your plight is not His fault.

Exactly, so the blame for your actions rests on your shoulders. You're going to Hell.

Mark looked up from the floor. “What’s the job?”

The elderly stallion smiled. “I have sleeper agents all throughout the world. Canterlot and other key cities in Equestria have sleeper cells perpetually ready to be activated. But they can’t act successfully if they don’t have an opening. I want to overthrow the Equestrian government, and replace it with one even more firmly under my control than the current one.”

“So what are you proposing?”

***

“So what are you proposing?” Mark inquired, seemingly intrigued.

“Simple. You assassinate Princess Celestia, my organization steps in and establishes a peace between Equestria and Unikraine. Kill her, and we can save millions. Sooner or later I will be able to discreetly usurp her power, but the sooner it happens the better off Equis is,” Star-Swirl answered.

Mark nodded. “I’ll give it some thought. Is there somewhere I can stay?”

“I’ll send you to the tertiary security room, it’s got some of the amenities of a hotel, and plenty of information that’s easy to access. It’s already got somepony else in it, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Is he talking about this room?

The feed on the screens switched between cameras as Mark headed down a hallway and rounded a corner. Outside her room, Twilight could hear heavy footsteps. Realizing that Mark was coming to her room, she hid as best she could. After stuffing herself inside a small cabinet, she shut the door and peeked out through a small patch of transparent mesh near the top.

Mark walked inside, his helmet on, and surveyed the room. After a minute of what looked like quiet pondering, he walked over to a cabinet, from which he pulled the weapons he’d originally brought to Unikraine. After loading and holstering them, he took a seat on a bench and removed his helmet again.

This time, he shut his eyes and clasped his hands, resting his chin on them. Cautiously, Twilight crept out of the cabinet without attracting his attention.

He’s not seriously going to take an offer from that monster. He can’t.

To her, Mark killing Princess Celestia was tantamount to inconceivable. She couldn’t in her darkest nightmares think of such a thing happening. He must’ve been thinking of a way to break out.

“If she were immortal she wouldn’t have shown fear during that raid. Immortality and eternal life are different things, and she clearly possesses the latter, and even that’s liable to exaggeration. A bullet to the head will do.”

No! No-no-no-no-no!

“You can’t,” Twilight whispered.

***

“You can’t,” A familiar voice uttered, breaking Mark from his semi-meditative state. He drew his black M6G and pointed it at the source before he opened his eyes.

Now he was holding a gun to the head of the mare he loved. The being he yearned to be with was but a finger away from having her brain and blood spattered all over him and the rest of the room.

And the look in her eyes. He couldn’t stand that look. Twilight Sparkle’s eyes began to stream as she looked at him. He knew this was her, not some changeling spy, and yet he still kept her a moment away from death.

“Please… You’re better than this, Mark. I know you, and you’re not a monster,” She spoke softly, with a sort of unadulterated sincerity permeating her voice.

“No. That’s all I am. I killed one-hundred-fourteen innocent ponies.”

“I know, I watched from this room… You didn't mean to, right? You were just following orders.” She tried to smile at him, but only managed to look nauseous.

“The Nuremburg Trials proved that ‘following orders’ wasn’t an acceptable excuse for slaughtering innocents. When Nazi war criminals were tried at those tribunals, they claimed to only be following orders. They were prosecuted, like they deserved to be. While the difference is that I did the wrong thing for the right reason, but what I did is still unforgivable.”

Mark reduced the pressure of his pistol against her forehead, and began to lower it slowly.

“You don’t need to join these monsters, Mark, you know the UNSC will take you back. Everypony still thinks you’re a hero.”

“No. I’ve given my whole life to the UNSC, and on dozens of worlds never even gotten so much as a ‘thank you’ from a civilian I’ve saved. I’m a monster to them and to everyone else, and now that I finally see it it’s because I’ve become a monster inside too. There’s no place for me anywhere but among my own kind.”

He pointed the gun away from Twilight, because he felt sick just aiming it near her. She relaxed some, until she saw the weapon was now pressed against the underside of his chin.

“Please, don’t…” Twilight pleaded.

“But I don’t really have much choice, do I? Either way, I’ll spend the rest of my life a miserable killer. Either way, I’m condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. Either way, I’ll be stuck doing the same kinds of missions, just for different reasons. If I join the Cabal, I’m being true to my nature but fighting for less than honorable reasons. If I stay with the UNSC, I lie to myself and continue to be treated like a freak.” He tightened his grip on the trigger. “Please turn around, I don’t want you to see this.”

A violet-red glow surrounded the pistol, trying to force it out of his grip. Twilight glared at him resolutely despite the tears flowing down her cheeks, her horn emitting an aura that corresponded with the force trying to disarm him.

“I can’t let you do this,” She stated bluntly.

“Give me one reason why not.”

The aura cut out and Mark’s sidearm flew downwards as the resistance he’d been putting up lost its counter-force and the motion carried through. Twilight lowered her ears, clenched her eyes shut and bit her lip before she shouted her response.

“I think Star-Swirl had me in here so he could break me too. I saw the feed of you saying that you loved me, but you weren’t good enough for me. I want you to know that-” Twilight broke to sob. “That I love you too.”

Mark holstered his pistol and dropped to one knee. With his head now on a level with Twilight’s, he hugged her and cried into her neck. She in turn sobbed gently into his, and wrapped a foreleg around his neck. They emptied their sorrows for several minutes.

The SPARTAN looked into the mare’s glistening amethyst eyes and grinned slightly. “C’mon. We’ve got a temple to bust out of,” He whispered.

***

After watching all this from his private study, Star-Swirl was satisfied, and he shut off the monitors. A contented look on his face, he wrote an entry in his journal and left. He'd failed to procure a successor. A shame, but he'd find another.

***

There was no resistance on the way out, nothing worth mentioning except the emptiness of the structure.

Once they were outside the temple, the two of them considered their next moves before they were interrupted.

"Raptor, is that you? Your armor went missing, we couldn't pick up the transponder. We just got it again a few seconds ago, and it said you were inside. What the hell happened?" Admiral Hunt demanded over Mark's comms.

"It's a long story, sir. I'll give it to you later, but right now, I need a new objective."

"I'll find something for you. Hunt out."

"Twi, can you get back to Ponyville?"

"I-I can find a way." Twilight nodded. "What about you?"

He sighed and bowed his head. "I can't stop being a SPARTAN. As long as I'm needed, I'll answer the call. I'm no good at goodbyes, but I'll try to visit for Christmas or Valentine's Day. Until then, I'll be a ghost... Take care, alright?"

"You too."

They went their separate ways. While they were sad to part ways for an extended period, they took solace in the knowledge that their love was no longer unrequited, and that when they reunited they could be open with each other. Twilight already had a plan to return home, and the first thing she would do would be to find out what how far away "Christmas" and "Valentine's Day" were.

Hearts and Hooves and Hands

The air was frigid that morning in Ponyville. It was five in the morning on February 14th. For humans it was Valentine’s Day, and for ponies, it was Hearts and Hooves Day. Almost everypony had found a special somepony for this year’s observation of the holiday.

Big Macintosh was one of the few exceptions to that. For years, he’d simply been indifferent to the whole event, except for a very memorable incident involving him, Cheerilee, a love poison and the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

This year was different, or at least he wanted it to be. On the exterior he seemed a simple and sturdy stallion, but in truth he was one of the smarter earth ponies in town. He had a lurking suspicion that the love poison used on him might still reside in his system, because he still had a mild infatuation with Cheerilee.

And just as his strength made one peg him for a simpleton, his stoic silence made him seem slightly scatterbrained. In fact, he had a tendency to do things methodically, to plan and make lists. Not to the degree that Twilight Sparkle did, but to an appreciable extent.

His awkward experience with Cheerilee made him wary of asking her to be his special somepony, but he was quickly running out of mares he found appealing in both physical and other ways. First he asked several mares who worked the marketplace, his blushes hidden by his crimson coat, and been turned down by each. Then he’d asked the charmingly tomcoltish Rainbow Dash, and been declined, as she ruefully claimed to have an absentee coltfriend. Asking the quiet, sweet Fluttershy yielded a similar result, and a similar expression. Big Mac was suspicious of whether the rumors about the two of them were true, given their eerily similar, almost choreographed reactions.

That left two mares on his list. Twilight Sparkle, and Cheerilee. Given his inclination to not ask the latter on account of the previous Hearts and Hooves Day unless he had no other choice, the former was his last shot at avoiding awkwardness.
So he approached Golden Oaks Library, where the bookish mare resided.

***

Shortly upon returning to Ponyville four months prior, Twilight Sparkle looked up the date of the two days Mark had mentioned. “Christmas” coincided with Hearth’s Warming Day, and “Valentine’s Day” with Hearts and Hooves Day. Another cultural similarity courtesy of Star-Swirl the Bearded.

As she learned this, she found out from Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash that Jason and Ethan had made identical vows. And for the three of them, that was the loneliest Hearth’s Warming they’d ever had, despite the presents and friends and family.

So they shifted their hopes to Hearts and Hooves Day. But the night before that holiday, none of them had heard from the SPARTANs.

When Twilight heard a knock on the door at an obscenely early time, she teleported from her bed to her mirror, brushed her mane and tail, and then teleported again to the front door, giddy with anticipation and with a smile that would make Pinkie Pie proud.

Still, she was tired, and when she opened the door to see a nervous Big Macintosh hoofing the ground it showed through.

“Oh! Ah’m sorry, Ah forgot ya don’t wake up at the same time as mah family. Not everypony’s a farmer, Ah guess,” He chuckled nervously.

“No, it’s fine,” Twilight answered, yawning. “What can I do for you, Big Macintosh?”

He perked up a bit when she used his name, as though that were an accomplishment. “Ah was just wonderin’ if ya had a special somepony for Hearts and Hooves Day. Oh, an’ ‘fore Ah forget, Ah brought ya somethin’.” He pulled out a heavily-worn doll from his saddlebag, and her pupils grew to fill her eyes in response.

She seized the doll with her magic and brought it close. “My Smarty-Pants doll!” She exclaimed, hugging the object tightly. Her enthusiasm turned to confusion. “Wait, why did you have her in the first place?”

“Um… Remember that spell ya used on it a bit more’n a year back?”

“Oh, right…” She blushed and lowered her ears, her eyes pointed at the ground in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. She returned to looking at him after a moment. “Thank you, Big Mac, but I’m already waiting on somebody. I’m sorry.”

The red stallion concealed his disappointment behind a false grin and nodded before trotting off.

As she shut the door Twilight sighed and headed back to her room, careful not to wake Spike. The wind outside seemed to blow it back open, so she shut it again with her magic, this time more firmly. Up the stairs and around a corner, she opened the door to her bedroom.

She wanted to wait for Mark, to see when his aircraft landed nearby, so he and his team could fill the emptiness in the hearts of Twilight and her friends. She tied a pale scarf around her neck to protect it from the cold and wind-chill, and headed out to her balcony.

The wood had been reinforced by several spells to make it much more durable and sturdy. A small metal plaque indicated the maximum capacity and load-bearing ability of the platform, as per a town ordinance that had been passed after the Mare-Do-Well incident and the accompanying spate of building collapses.

After her reinforcement spells, it could hold no less than three tons without much strain, though it was unlikely that enough ponies would ever be on it at one time to approach that limit.

There on the balcony, she rested her forelegs on the smooth oaken guardrail and stared at the sunrise. The wind tousled her mane somewhat and made her scarf flap. She could see her breath in the cold winter air.

Twilight felt a change in pressure on the wood beneath her hind hooves, betraying the presence of a visitor. She shifted her stance and looked behind her to see that Mark was standing a couple yards back, his helmet attached to his waist. He looked cleaner, his hair trimmed to a uniform buzz-cut just long enough to retain its color and his beard shaven off. He smiled gently at her, and she returned the gesture, her eyelids lowered slightly to keep the sun’s glare from obscuring her vision.

He strode over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I missed you,” He whispered.

***

Fluttershy was cleaning a few of her indoor birdhouses when she heard a knock on her door. It was a heavy knock, which alarmed her. Still, she felt obligated to answer it, and so she cantered over to the entrance and opened it.

“Jason!”

She flew up and hugged him, nuzzling his neck before he could even return the hug. Seconds after he did, they both stopped and blushed. Fortunately for Jason, he was wearing his helmet, so she didn’t see that he was just as embarrassed. Then again, that might’ve made her more embarrassed.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, I-I just haven’t seen you in so long, and- And you’re a really good friend…”

“I-It’s fine, really,” He stuttered.

Fluttershy hovered awkwardly for a few moments before motioning for him to come inside. He already knew that her furniture could support his weight even when his armor was on, since it was built from a highly sturdy wood found only in the Everfree Forest.

The soldier sat down on his hostess’ couch and set down a duffel bag he’d been carrying. He removed his helmet and set it atop the bag. “I brought some fatigues to change into, but I need someplace to change.”

“Oh, um…” Fluttershy blushed at the suggestion. “There’s um, a bathroom upstairs you can use.”

After he changed, the two of them spent the day curled up inside, sharing a blanket, and eating popcorn while watching movies. Outside it began to rain, worsening the already frigid temperature, and lessening the effect of the tree’s natural insulation.

By the time their fifth movie ended, night had freshly fallen. With Luna’s moon now above them, they turned off the television set and talked. They talked for hours, and that was just fine with them.

***

For Rainbow Dash, the anxiety leading up to Hearts and Hooves Day had been bearable, if only because of her well-known ability to sleep anywhere and anytime. When she was feeling down and nopony was there to cheer her up, she’d sleep through it. It was that simple.

Still, Hearth’s Warming Eve and Day had been exceptionally lonely, and having been out of contact with Ethan for months was difficult for her, just as it was for Twilight and Fluttershy.

A few months earlier at the spa, they’d met with Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie for one of their sessions. The spa was one of the only places they could relax and talk to each other in full privacy and comfort.

No stress, no judgment, just friends.

***

“So uh, Dash?” Applejack asked. “When you an’ Ethan were havin’ that meetin’ in the stable a week ago, what did y’all talk about?”

“I asked him how he dealt with the war and death and stuff. He said…” She sighed.

“Go on, darling,” Rarity goaded her.

“He said it was because it was almost all he’d ever known. He said that all the SPARTAN-IIIs were orphaned by the Covenant between the ages of three and seven. The UNSC kidnapped a few hundred of ‘em for the second class, and he was one of ‘em. They’re used to being seen and treated as mindless soldiers by humanity, so it was weird to him when we treated them, well, nice.”

Pinkie’s mane deflated almost instantly. There was only one thing in the universe she truly hated, and it was misery. But it wasn’t an angry hate, rather it was a depressed one.

“They raised him to be a killing machine. They physically augmented him and trained him for the sole purpose of war,” Twilight added. The others were shocked at these revelations, their mouths agape. “Mark told me the same story in Manehattan. He was in the first class of SPARTAN-IIIs. Most of them were eventually sent on suicide missions, and the ones that are still alive aren’t considered expendable”

“Are y’all serious!? They actually did that!?” Applejack burst out.
“Applejack, keep your voice down!” Twilight scolded her.
“What I’m sayin’ is, how could these fellas take innocent, vulnerable kids and turn them into unnatural monstrosities, then throw ‘em away?”

“Because they had to, AJ. Entire planets were being destroyed, and they were desperate…” Twilight spat, as though admitting such an atrocity was justified left a foul taste in her mouth.

“I admit, it’s hard to wrap one’s head around. To think that someone Sweetie Belle’s age could be turned into a killer…” Rarity shook her head in disbelief.

“Most humans don’t know that either, even though it isn't actually secret anymore, it's not common knowledge. They think it was a volunteer program, and they were treated like freaks for that. The only friends they have are each other, and they almost always work in small groups.”

“There’s something else Ethan and I talked about in that stable. I- I know it doesn’t make sense, but…” She sighed and drooped her head, her eyes closed. “I love him. And he said he loved me too. We kissed and held each other for a few minutes, and then he got AJ and I on the first flight out of Appleoosa. He said he’d be back soon.”

“Jason and I… It’s just that he’s really…” Fluttershy trailed off. Egged on by her friends’ stares, she continued, her cheeks red all the while. “He’s really sweet and gentle when you get to know him. He never swears, he’s smart a-and kind and helpful… And, I really miss him.”

“Mark doesn’t think he’s good enough for me. Princess Celestia doesn’t either. They both think he’s a monster, but I know he’s not, even if he’s done some...” She shuddered, and as she did she noticed that she was crying. “When I told him I loved him he broke down and hugged me. I think all he’s ever wanted was to be normal, but he couldn’t put his burdens on somepony else. I know that if Princess Celestia says it’s a doomed romance, then it is, but I still love him…”

***

“Hey flygirl!”

A distinctly human hand patted Rainbow Dash’s back, waking her from her dream. When she opened her eyes, she tackled Ethan in a bear hug before she even wondered how he got to her cloud-home. He wasn’t wearing his armor, and from his face he was clearly enjoying being on a cloud.

“Cloud-walking spell, extra-strength. I could be up here for weeks, and my stuff won’t fall down either.” He pointed to two crates and a duffel bag laying on her floor. “It’s rainy downstairs, so I hope you don’t mind if I crash here.”

“Sure. I really missed you Eeth.” Dash kept her forelegs wrapped around his neck, unwilling to let go.

“I missed you too, RB,” He murmured.

She got up and looked around. She must’ve fallen asleep on her couch, because she was in her living room. “So, how ‘bout I show you around? Me and the other weatherponies built a bunch of cloud bridges connecting most of the homes to Cloudsdale, so if somepony messes up their wing they’re not stuck at home.”

“Care to show me the sights?”

“Yeah! There’s a new Quentin Trotentino movie I’m dying to see.”

***

After seeing Ethan off, and Mark changing into fatigues, Twilight and Mark had a quiet breakfast together, leaving Spike asleep through the early hour. They sat next to each other at a counter, side-by-side.

“How’s Scootaloo doing?” Mark asked in between bites of pancakes. They were normal flapjacks edible by humans and ponies, rather than the hay variety.

“Better. Her foster parents are great ponies, and she’s pretty been happy with them, all things considered,” Twilight answered, some satisfaction in her voice.

“Good, I’m glad she’ll be okay. Twi…” Mark’s hand froze, and syrup dripped from the food he’d lanced as he agonized over something. “I just want to thank you for what you did back in Unikraine.”

“Mark, it’s fine, you don’t have to thank me.” She smiled gently at him, which only made him feel worse.

“Yeah, I do. I would’ve gone over to the Watchers’ Cabal if you hadn’t intervened… And I’m so sorry about what I put you through. For everything I’ve done since I met you.”

“It’s okay.” Twilight put a comforting hoof on his shoulder, which was protected only by a pale tan shirt.

Mark’s eyes began to water, but he held back tears and kept a mostly straight face. “I put you in danger, I killed a hundred fourteen ponies, I almost killed you on purpose. How is any of that okay?”

“Because I know what you did was hard for you, and that you regret it every day. As much as you want to believe you’re a monster, I know that in your heart you’re doing all this for the right reasons, or because you have so little self-esteem that you feel like you need to be punished more. But you don’t.”

She hugged him, and he held her close. It was extremely soothing to feel her mane against his cheek, especially with no beard to block it.

“You’ve had a horrible lot in life, but you kept going. Now I realize it wasn’t just your sense of duty; it’s because you had hope for your future. Maybe I’m that hope; maybe it wasn’t just chance that we met.”

Mark pulled back for a moment and looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Mark, neither one of us is normal. I’m an Element of Harmony, the Element of Magic, and the student of Princess Celestia, the most powerful pony on the planet. You’re one of only a few hundred humans who were strong enough to survive the most dangerous places in the galaxy, who could do repeatedly things few had the courage to consider doing once. Both of us have our burdens, our insecurities that we have locked away.”

He sat completely still, her point dawning on him.

“You’ve suffered for so long, but still been as noble as you possibly could in your situation. What if it was fate that we met? Fate that made us fall in love? What if the reason you haven’t died yet is because your story is meant to have a happy ending?”

Mark smiled as he felt his heart accelerate, and kissed Twilight’s lips gently, running his left hand across her cheek as she did so.

“Thank you.”

The rest of that day was spent peacefully, both of them happy to have this time together. A few ponies came in to the library that day, and they helped them with whatever they needed. After a cathartic conversation, it felt good to be generous. They just talked and read for hours, enjoying each other’s company. It was a very simple pleasure, but greatly satisfying.

Eventually, the two of them returned to the balcony to watch the sunset. The silhouette of the gold, orange and purple against the trees and mountains on the horizon had a divine beauty to it.

“Twi, I need you to do something for me,” Mark said as he gently ran his fingers through Twilight’s mane.

“Anything,” She answered. She smiled, and gave him a starry-eyed look.

“You know that no matter what, Equis or elsewhere, alive or lifeless, Heaven or Hell, I’ll always love you. But I need you to make me a promise.” His pained expression told her she wouldn’t like it.

“Okay?”

***

“Fluttershy, I need you to promise me that if I don’t come back-”

“Please don’t talk like that Jason,” The mare pleaded, wrapping her forelegs around his chest.

***

“I’m sorry Dash, but I’m still a soldier. If I have to give my own life-” Ethan tried to say.

“No!”

***

“Listen to me! I need you to promise you’ll move on,” Mark whispered, holding Twilight’s head in his hands.

“I- I can’t!”

“Yes you can! I’m not asking you to go on without grieving and to continue as if nothing happened. That would break my heart, wherever I end up going.”

***

“Then what are you asking?” Fluttershy whispered.

***

“I’m asking you to not grieve forever. I want you to be happy, Dash.”

***

“I just want you to be happy. Promise me that if I die you won’t spend the rest of your life grieving, that you won’t give up on life, or on love. Remember me, but don’t obsess over me.”

***

“I, Fluttershy-”

***

“I, Rainbow Dash-”

***

“I, Twilight Sparkle, promise that should you perish-”

***

“I will give up on neither life-”

***

“Nor love-”

***

“Nor the pursuit of happiness.”

Mark saw tears welling up in Twilight’s eyes, so he knelt down and kissed her cheek. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look? You’re like an amethyst angel.”
She giggled, forgetting about the oath she’d just taken. “That sounds so corny.”

He grinned back at her and chuckled. “Yeah, I know… I wish we could have more time together. Because I’m in cryosleep so often I’m physically half my age. Now I’m beginning to worry I might outlive you.”

His worries were not lost on her, as she had some of her own. “My friends have been supportive of me, but… I don’t know if my parents or my brother would support what we have, let alone Princess Celestia.”

“Maybe we won’t get their support. Maybe we can’t prove to them that this is real.” He placed his hands on Twilight’s cheeks and brushed away her tears with his thumbs, gazing into her eyes with a gentle smile. “But it's real to us, that’s the important part.”

As the last rays of the sun died out, the stars appeared above them. They saw different things in the night sky. Mark saw the danger and horrors that lay among them, and Twilight saw the beauty of vast cosmic phenomena. Though they saw opposite things among the stars, in each other they saw the same thing.

“You’re right. Let’s make this our night. Let’s go back inside,” Twilight said. They entered her bedroom and shut the windowed door to the balcony, so that the only sources of light inside were a few candles and the moonlight. She lit the room with the glow of her horn. “I tried that humanization spell before, while you were gone. You remember the one I said I took from the Star-Swirl the Bearded wing because I thought it was dangerous to novices?”

Mark began to see what she was getting at, and he nodded. “Right?”

An intricate lavender rune appeared on the floor beneath her, glowing even as the candles were extinguished. It was mystical, the way the rune and the moonlight lit the room softly.

“I practiced it a few times, because I thought you’d like it, and-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Mark grabbed her, taking her to the floor with him, and began kissing her. He started at the bottom of her neck, working his way to her mouth with each subsequent peck.

By the time he reached her mouth, the two of them were levitating above the rune, spinning slowly in place.

“Maybe you could show me some other time,” Mark suggested, pulling his head away to look at her eyes as he gently ran his fingers through her mane.

***

The next morning, Mark awoke in Twilight’s bed, one arm draped over her slowly rising and falling chest, another under his own pillow. The room smelled of sweat and other scents, and he noticed the messy state of her mane. The soft smile on her muzzle told him she was happy, even in her apparent sleep. Her head lay atop his bare chest, rising and falling as he breathed. He closed his eyes again and kissed her nose.

Just before he drifted back to sleep, Mark thought about how happy he was. Although he still hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done, and he wasn’t sure what his ultimate fate was, as long as he had Twilight, he had a future.

“No one knows better than I that luck keeps passing me by ... that's fate,
But with you there at my side, I'll soon be turning the tide ... just wait,
As long as I've got arms that cling at all, it's you that I'll be clinging to.
And all the dreams I dream, beg, or borrow on some bright tomorrow they'll all come true.
And all my bright tomorrows belong to you,” He sang as quietly as he could.

Author's Note

Normally interspecies romances involving ponies that have lifespan-related concerns are when alicorns are involved. But since this is pre-alicorn Twilight (assuming she becomes one permanently), the pony is the one with the shorter lifespan. So I got to invert a FiMFiction trope.

Also, regarding the sex drive of SPARTANs...
From the Halopedia article on SPARTAN-II augmentations:

Catalytic Thyroid Implant

A platinum pellet is implanted in the left thyroid gland; this pellet contains a human growth hormone that is released into the body to boost growth of skeletal and muscle tissues. As the hormone is released into the body the pellet dissolves and is absorbed. The hormone targets and stimulates the growth of fast and slow twitch muscle fibers, effectively producing significant gains in muscle mass. The hormone also targets osteoblasts to help boost bone tissue formation and effectively strengthen the bone structure.[6]

2% of subjects acquire elephantiasis. Suppressed sexual drive.[6][5]

Keyword: "suppressed". We don't know if that carried over into the S-III Program and their seperate, safer augmentation procedures, Project CHRYSANTHEMUM. In fact, because the same procedures were used for S-IIIs and S-IVs, and DeMarco heavily implies sexual interest in Palmer (before finding out she's his CO) in the first cinematic for Spartan Ops. That means that the S-IIIs in all likelihood do not suffer from a reduced libido, or at least it's only moderately suppressed.

Operation Neptune Spear

It was Shining Armor’s birthday. He was born the day after Hearts and Hooves Day, which made his marriage to the goddess of love even more poetic in his opinion. He’d been told that his sister had been melancholy recently, and he’d been planning a visit anyways, so he decided that he wanted to spend the thirtieth anniversary of his own birth with his beautiful wife and his baby sister.

He took a train into town with Cadence, who was happy to get out of the castle, and Canterlot for that matter. Many conservative-minded members of the royal court, which was to say most of them, had given her some form of grief for marrying a commoner. He was born into a wealthy family, but one with no known royal blood. So because all members of the court were nobles, and somepony they saw as below their stature married a goddess, they were quite agitated.

That made their little trip to Ponyville a welcome change of scenery, and the quiet but non-intrusive respect and admiration of the commoners was something they both enjoyed.

A trip through the unpaved streets of the town was soothing in the early morning air. A few clouds were scattered across the sky, and the distance from the horizon to the sun could be measured in the width of the viewer’s hooves.

Approaching Golden Oaks Library was something Shining Armor had looked forward to since his sister first moved there, but he’d never really gotten a chance to visit her before now. He relished the moment as he opened the door quietly.

“Remember, it’s a surprise, be as quiet as you can,” Shining Armor whispered, a mischievious smile on his muzzle. His wife nodded and grinned. They shut the door behind them as soon as they were both in, and Cadence took a seat on a couch downstairs, while her husband crept upstairs.

He moved down the hall until he reached a door clearly labeled as his sister’s room. It was just like her to label her room for ease of navigation. He rotated the doorknob slowly and peeked through the doorway as it became wide enough.

“Surprise!”

He would never have expected what he saw as the word escaped his mouth. His countenance shifted from one of elation to one of disbelief.

His sister was in bed with a human male. She had her head on top of his bare chest, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. The man with her had his arm draped over her neck. They both stirred and looked at him, startled and embarrassed.

“Twili… W-what is this?”

“Shining!? What are you doing here?” She asked, her cheeks redder than any mere blush should’ve been.

“I wanted to spend my birthday with my little sister because I missed her and heard she was lonely, but instead I find this! There’s scores of stallions in Ponyville, but you decided to try and cure your loneliness with empty sex with the first drifter to breeze through?”

“That’s not what this is!” The mare in question protested.

“And you!” He pointed an accusatory hoof at the human in bed with her. “You filthy ape, what do you think you’re doing taking advantage of my sister!? We settle this downstairs, five minutes.”

***

As Shining Armor exited the room, Twilight Sparkle began to weep. Mark held her to his chest as she sobbed.

“I- I just wanted to- to-” She sputtered.

“It’s okay, Twi." She continued sobbing. "Twi, look at me!” He turned her head to face him. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll get dressed, we’ll go downstairs, and your brother and I will settle this like civilized men. Alright?”

“Alright.” She sighed and nodded her head, blinking away tears.

Mark got out of bed and got dressed, pulling on his briefs before putting his fatigues, dog tags and boots on and rolling up his sleeves. He went downstairs and was met with a tackle that sent him to the floor. Shining Armor was now on top of him and seething.

“Shine! Calm down, this isn’t necessary!” Princess Cadence pleaded, trying to pull him off with her magic.

“No, this bastard took advantage of my little sister and I’m not letting that slide!”

Mark pushed him off and got to his feet.

“Taking advantage of her? I hadn’t seen her in four months and I missed her every moment of it. I love her and I wanted to make last night special. I don’t know how long I’ll even be in town-”

“I bet you’re not even a soldier, and your eyes - They look like a predator’s! You’re just some drifter going between towns and seducing vulnerable mares!”

In response, the SPARTAN pulled up his fatigue top and the shirt underneath to show the scars he had on his body, then he ripped off his dog tags and threw them at the stallion.

“My name is Mark Thompson, and I’m a whole different kind of predator, Shining Armor; you just don’t recognize me. I saved you at that reception when the Covies stormed in. I was the one leading the team that rescued you and your wife when the CM alliance made itself known. I’ve known your sister longer than any I have other pony, and I love her.”

“So you're that SPARTAN. You expect me to believe somepony raised to be a killer has any right to a mare’s heart?”

Mark sighed and began to speak at a level tone. “Oh believe me, I know I’m not good enough for Twilight. I know she’s only a bit better than average-looking, but that doesn't matter to me. She’s kind, smart, funny and brave. I think she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know I don’t deserve her. If someone or somepony came along who could make her happy, love her as much as I do, and give her everything she deserves then I’d try to get her with them. But no-one’s come along, and I’ll damn well do my best to make her as happy as I can.”

“You’re not talking your way out of this with empty words like that. You used my little sister, and-”

“Shining, he means it,” Princess Cadence said.

That snapped him out of his rage, and left him open for a response. Obviously he valued Princess Cadence' advice, at least on this topic.

“Look, I know what it’s like to be the oldest kid, I had a younger brother and sister. We were all adopted, but we were family, and our parents loved us. I know what it’s like to want to protect the ones you love, and not be able to. I watched my brother and sister die in front of me, and I still have nightmares about that day. I never expected a happy ‘Beauty and the Beast’ ending, I always thought that I’d spend all my days living as a beast, a killer with too much blood on my hands. But four months ago, Twilight made me believe I could have a future, that I was more than a killing machine. I realized I was in love with her, and not long after she told me she loved me too.”

“Love means giving somepony the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to use it,” Cadence stated succinctly. “I can tell you’re sincere about this, and I want Shining Armor to apologize for being so overprotective of his sister.”

Shining looked at his wife in disbelief and was met with a stern gaze, then sighed and bowed his head. “Mark, I’m sorry about the way I acted.”

“It’s fine, I understand. I don't know if I’ll never be good enough for your sister, but I sure as Hell can try.”

He felt a set of hooves behind him, and turned to face a tearful, smiling Twilight Sparkle.

“Mark, you’re more than I could ever ask for. If I was half as good as you treat me, then I’d be some kind of royalty.”

***

Two weeks later, Knife Team was geared up and gathered inside a briefing room in Cavalia Joint Service Base. In front of them was a large screen and a holographic projector that was linked to the UNSC Deliverance. The projector finished booting and displayed a life-sized image of Admiral Hunt.

The SPARTANS all saluted, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“At ease, gentlemen. We’ve got something important for you today, important enough to put our best team on it. First, this is Colonel Nathan Lockhart.”

The image of a stern-looking Caucasian man with rugged features, black-brown hair and hazel eyes appeared on screen.

“This man is a former SPARTAN-I, a graduate of the ORION Project. He’s the leader of the Black Mamba PMC that’s enabled the Changelings and Unikrainians to do so much damage. The same one that you’ve fought, and the man responsible for a lot of the deaths in this damned war. Dagger Team and a platoon of ODSTs conducted a raid on the complex where he was believed to be hiding, and they located and killed Lockhart, and acquired enough intel from the raid to end this war within the week.”

“Sir, this is great news, but where do we fit in?” Mark asked.

“There’s still the matter of the Covenant remnants in orbit above the north pole.”

“Sir, I thought they were inside the atmosphere,” Jason said.

“Not anymore, Major. A small group of ships jumped into the system and joined with the existing remnant fleet, bringing their numbers up to twenty. Our ships and tactics may have come a long way since the war, but they’re still a hell of a match for us. That fleet is moving south, heading straight for Equestria.”

“Shit,” Ethan breathed.

“We can’t put much fire on them from above because of over-penetration risking civilian casualties. We’ve begun to engage them with some of our ships and we’re moving more into battle, but we’ve only slowed them down. We need you three to cut the head off the snake. We’re sending you and Dagger Team with a group of ODSTs, callsign ‘Blade’, to kill their leader: Rolo’Duronee. You’ll lase his ship as a target so we can put a MAC strike on their shields, opening a hole wide enough for a Pelican to slip onboard. You get in there, kill that bastard and his ship, and get out. With their head cut off, they’ll fall apart and we’ll smash what’s left. Emmerich, give them the coordinates to their birds, there’s nukes and ordnance onboard. Dismissed.”

A set of coordinates appeared on their HUDs, and they headed for the airfield. There, they greeted their counterparts in Dagger team and got onto their Pelican. Jason took the pilot’s seat and Svetlana took the co-pilot’s. They shut the hatch behind them, and the passengers, SPARTANs and ODSTs, strapped themselves in.

The engines rumbled, and the craft began to gain altitude. As they flew higher, their helmets began to pick up comm traffic coming from the battle above. It was almost a shame they couldn’t see the battle, but they needed to be as focused as possible for this.

“If we fuck this up…” Ethan trailed off.

“Then the Covies will turn this in their favor. The hinge-heads are using civilian populations against us to stop orbital bombardment, and we have to fight on their terms. We have to pussyfoot because we don’t wanna piss of the locals, and that means potentially losing the whole planet because we couldn’t risk hurting a few thousand,” Alexander finished.

“So we don’t mess up,” Lukas stated.

“Rogue leader, UNSC Andraste is taking heavy fire from those Seraphs! Get these bastards off of us!”

“Copy. Rogues, we’re going hunting.”

“This is Commander Hideo of the UNSC Rushmore, all hands abandon ship! Repeat, all hands abandon ship! Report to the nearest lifeboats!”

“All units be advised, Angel squadron has been deployed and is moving to combat zone.”

The Pelican jerked as it performed a sharp jink, and a Seraph fighter passed by. 20mm cannon fire from the chin-mounted gun did enough damage to disable the craft’s shields, but it moved out of the firing arc before Svetlana could put even a single round on its physical hull.

“Angel squadron, this is Surgeon, I’m standing by to lase target ‘Goliath’ for a precision MAC strike, but I have bandits on my tail and I can’t shake them! Can you assist?”

“Affirmative, Angel squadron moving to assist,” The squadron leader responded. “Give me your ETA to lase distance.”

“ETA is one mike, but the objective of the strike is to blow a hole for our strike team to fly through. Give us an extra thirty seconds after the strike and we’re out of your hair.”

“Copy, Surgeon.”

Comm chatter intensified for minute before anyone on the dropship said anything.

“Surgeon here, lasing target, stand by for MAC strike in five.”

A bolt of yellow shot from above, lighting up the shields of the CCS-class battlecruiser. A dark spot at the point of impact began to fade, and Jason red-lined the engines to get through before the patch was shielded again. The vibration of the engines could be felt by everyone onboard the craft, and when the hum finally died down they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Angel squadron, this is Surgeon. We’re inside.”

“Copy. Good luck.”

“Alright,” Mark began. “When we land, I want Valkyrie and Surgeon defending the bird, same with Blade team. We need a ride out and this is all we’ve got. Raider and Archer will take the nukes and plant them in the reactor core two levels below the midship hangar. CCS-class ships have the bridge mounted near the center of the ship for protection, so Maverick and I will fight our way up there and take out the HVT. Questions?”

“If the shields are still up when you get back, how do we get out?” An ODST asked.

“Covie starship shields are a one-way protection. They keep things from getting in, but it’s no problem for a plasma torpedo or a Phantom to get out. Hangar shields are just for protection against high-velocity objects; only ships without the external protection, like corvettes, have lock-out shields,” Jason answered. “Coming in on the midship hangar now. ETA thirty seconds.”

“Alright people, I want this by the book, no heroics. The second we get inside, that hatch is gonna drop and we’re going out guns blazing. There’s enough room inside a Covie hangar for a skilled pilot to do some maneuvering, so Surgeon and Valkyrie are using that twenty-mike-mike chin-gun for CAS.”

“Ten seconds!”

The four SPARTANS and six ODSTs prepared to dash out the hatch..

“Five, four, three, two, one… We’re in! Opening the hatch!”

The ramp at the rear of the aircraft lowered, and the sound of discharging plasma weaponry could be heard coming from outside.

“Bail out!”

The soldiers stormed out and picked targets. Most of the aliens in the hangar were Grunts, loading weapons onto Seraphs and equipment onto Phantoms for the coming invasion. A few Engineers floated about, and were the first ones to fall.

After the squid-like aliens fell to the floor, the Grunts drew their plasma pistols and began to fire wildly towards the humans. Concentrated return fire from them cut the dockhands down in twenty seconds.

An alarm began to sound, a deep wailing that echoed through the hangar. Almost immediately, several teams of Elite Rangers stormed in. They’d likely been preparing for deployment as shock troopers in advance of the main invasion force.

A shot from a needle rifle broke through the chestplate of an ODST, disabling him before he even aimed his weapon. Alexander dragged him to cover as a flurry of plasma bolts scattered the humans, who were now on the defensive.

A burst of fire from the Pelican’s chin gun killed a pair of Elites and drove the rest of that team to cover underneath a Seraph. The dropship’s cannon couldn’t penetrate the thick hull of the craft, forcing it to pick on stragglers that weren’t under the hulls of Covenant vehicles.

The firefight quickly turned to a stalemate as the combatants became entrenched behind cover. The advantage of air support was preventing the Elites from moving and using their own mobility advantage, and their withering suppressive fire kept the boarders from moving on them.

Mark switched from his DMR to his grenade launcher, and fired a grenade at the defenders. The shot bounced off of the bottom of the Seraph’s hull and landed behind a group of Rangers. It detonated just as one of the Elites had primed a plasma grenade. The explosion killed the alien and sent his explosive up towards the lower hull of the ship. It fused with the plating and detonated, igniting a fuel line that ran toward the engine. The craft ceased its hover and crashed down on all the warriors hiding beneath it.

Lukas began to use his sniper rifle’s high-velocity armor-piercing rounds to penetrate the thinner cover some of the defenders used, killing a few and enraging others long enough for concerted fire to bring them down.

“Surgeon, land the bird and give us some assistance,” Mark ordered.

“On it boss,” He responded.

The dropship descended and fired on a few enemies to drive them from cover. As the landing gear unfolded, the weapons fire finally ceased as the boarders finished cleaning up the last of the defenders.

Jason disembarked and administered biofoam to the chest wound of the injured trooper, which put him back in fighting shape, if not peak condition. He then proceeded to a nearby terminal, where he disabled security systems throughout the ship and set off alarms in all the places the teams wouldn’t be. He called two of the ship’s elevators to the hangar to take the two pairs to the appropriate decks.

The elevators were intended to move large quantities of equipment that was too finicky for the rattling and impacts that entailed grav lift transportation. They were separated from each other by a thick transparent surface that acted as a sort of window.

After retrieving their HAVOK tactical nuclear weapons, Alexander and Lukas got on one of the elevators, and Mark and Ethan on the other.

“Raider, Archer, get down there and plant the nukes. Get back here in one piece, alright?”

“Got it.” Their ride began to descend as they hit a series of controls.

Mark and Ethan traveled upwards, readying their weapons for one final targeted killing.

The Colonel found himself thinking of a promise he'd made before leaving Ponyville.

***

As Mark walked out of the door of Twilight's library, clad in his MJOLNIR armor and bound for a Pelican to take him on an urgent trip to Cavalia JSB, he found that he was held up by a violet-red field of energy around his leg. It was the aura of Twilight's magic, and he turned around to see her in the doorway behid him, the sunset creating striking shadows on her face.

"I just wanted to tell you that- That I have a really bad feeling about this," She sputtered. It was clear she meant it though, and that it wasn't just a white lie to get him to say longer.

"Twilight. I'll come back for you. I promise." He made that oath despite sharing the same feeling of dread at whatever was so urgent as to force him out of his leave time. He wanted to think it was because he was worried for whatever consequences his mission would cause her, and that it was just because he had somepony who'd be hurt by his death, but he hadn't felt this same dread in other times it should've applied.

He headed for the area he'd meet Jason and Ethan at and the Pelican would pick them up. As he passed out of her sight, Twilight whispered a belated response.

"Don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it..."

***

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the lift slowed, and finally stopped. They were now on the same level as the Elite responsible for millions of deaths on Equis, who'd commanded a violent guerilla campaign and used the politics of his intended conquest against the group who could stop him. From there on out it would be the two of them blowing through wave after wave of Covenant remnants, racing to reach their goal.

“Ethan, it’s time we finish this.”

Author's Note

Yes, it's named after that Operation Neptune Spear. I'd have altered the name to fit the S-IIIs being Army (the name refers to the trident on the US Navy's Special Warfare insignia), but then the allusion would've been exponentially harder to detect. Personally, I'm confused as to why the Army Compartmented Elements (formerly known as the 1st SFOD-D) didn't do the operation, since it had no maritime component whatsoever. I think it might've been favoritism, since the commander of JSOC at the time was Navy, but I'm not sure.

Quiz: If the music at the end of this chapter is from Halo 2's ending, what do you think the title of the next chapter will be?

Finish the Fight

The two SPARTANs checked their weapons and stacked up at the door. Mark hit the hologram to open the door and found himself and Ethan greeted with a platoon of enemy infantry.

They rushed out and took cover as the air became filled with pink crystalline needles, and emerald and sapphire plasma bolts. The stiletto projectiles alternately embedded themselves in the claret alloy the Covenant were so fond of and bounced off it. The energy from their weapons splashed on the metal and sizzled through the air on their paths.

Ethan activated his holograms and rolled out, spraying his assault rifle and felling several of the aliens. Mark threw a grenade, which coaxed more enemies from cover and killed several of those who hadn’t moved. The injured and exposed were picked off by precise fire from his DMR, one at a time in most cases, and in rapid succession in the case of the Grunts.

The Elites and Jackals had their shields either disabled by heavy fire or shot out of the way respectively. The leaders were riddled with bullets and sprayed an indigo ichor from their bodies, and the avians were literally torn apart by the weapons fire. Several plasma grenades landed on the ground, which Mark shot to detonate them and kill any Covenant standing near them.

The smoke and plasma cleared, and the supersoldiers were the only ones left standing.

“Move up,” Mark ordered. Ethan took point, as his weapons were more effective at close range than his commander’s, especially in the case of his shotgun.

They repeatedly mowed down waves of enemy soldiers as they moved through the narrow and winding halls of the ship, which prolonged their path to the bridge, which would’ve been much shorter had the path been a straight shot to their objective. By the time the two reached the door to the bridge itself, they were panting from the extensive amount of high-intensity combat they’d already engaged in.

They reloaded their weapons and readied themselves to storm the bridge. They’d seen the inside of a CCS-class battlecruiser before, and they knew the layout of the bridge. It would be an architecturally simple affair, with two trench-like pits filled with equipment and control panels running parallel underneath a large platform surrounded by holographic interfaces. Seating was optional, and in some cases there would be more stations around the room. Either way, the High-Value Target would be in an elevated, easily visible position.

Ethan loaded a few shells into his shotgun and pumped it. “Orders?”

“It breathes, it dies. Opening in three…” He began counting down with his fingers, and when he made a fist he used it to pound the control panel to open the door. The blast-resistant bulkhead moved and a pair of frag grenades flew inside, detonating in either trench of the room. It seemed that the crew was barebones, because there were only the two trenches of personnel, and the HVT on the elevated platform.

The Elite tapped a holographic button just before his attackers opened fire. The armor-piercing rounds impacted a shield around the position, harmlessly flattening on the energy field. They both emptied their magazines into the shield to no avail, and Rolo’Duronee laughed at their attempts as they reloaded.

“Did you fools really think killing me would be that easy?” He asked smugly, an emotion apparent even through the translation software in their helmets. He wore a gold-orange variant of the Elite Ranger armor, which masked whatever expression was the Elite equivalent of smug.

“You’re finished. In a few minutes this ship is gonna be another addition to an orbital graveyard.”

“Really? Because I have thirteen of your minutes to take care of the bombs your compatriots planted. They really should leave now, for their own good. In four minutes, this ship will begin to come apart at the seams as the device you humans call ‘Modular Dispersal Technology’ separates this vessel into three sections. ”

“Raptor, their battlenet says they just activated their MDT system,” Jason told him over their comms, alarmed. “Recommend you and Maverick regroup ASAP.”

“I now only need to touch the surface of the planet to activate the invasion’s second phase. We haven’t been staying idle in the frozen north for no reason, sending out only small units to harass your forces and using this planet’s politics against your fleet to preventing them from ending mine. I’ve been changing the rules entirely. I am now closer to godhood than even the San ‘Shyuum could ever hope to be.” He de-polarized his visor to reveal that his skin was paler than most of his kind, and his eyes glowed a faint red. “The blood of the Forerunners now runs in my veins. When I set foot on land, Equis itself will recognize me as an Inheritor, and give me control over the long-dormant armies of the Gods that lie beneath the surface. With the infusion of resources and followers this planet offers me, I will take lead of the remnant factions and this world to form a new, more powerful Covenant, one lead by the Sangheili!”

He threw his hands up in the air and looked to the ceiling. A hologram of the Milky Way galaxy appeared, and fell into his oustretched fingers.

Mark glanced at his teammate, a grim feeling coming over him. “Ethan, get to the Pelican, get out of here,” He said over their private comms. “That’s a direct order,” He continued as Ethan’s body language indicated he was forming a response.

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Ethan, I want you to know that you and Jason have been like brothers to me for almost as long as I’ve known you. You’re the only family I’ve had for most of my life, but I couldn’t have asked for a better one. Take care of Twilight for me, tell her to remember her promise even if I couldn’t carry through with mine.”

“…Good luck, Mark.” Ethan raced out of the room and from the sight of both Mark and Rolo.

“Jason, when Ethan gets to the Pelican, I need you to load up and get the team out of here. I have some unfinished business to attend to,” Mark ordered over his comms.

A minute later, he got a response while he was trying to bash his way through the shield protecting Rolo.

“Sir, Ethan’s on board, you can still make it,” Jason told him.

It was less than a minute before the ship would break apart, not enough time.

“You need to get out of here, now! I can’t make it, but I can make sure this invasion doesn’t happen, now move it!”

“Yes sir…” A few moments later, he got another message. “We’re out. Godspeed, Mark.”

Not a moment after he finished, the ship rumbled as it separated. The door to the bridge shut, and he felt the bridge heave from the ship itself, as if it had become a single spacious drop pod.

“And now the descent begins, and soon the Covenant will be reborn!”

Mark smashed even harder against the force field between him and Rolo, his kicks now dimming the light from it with each successive hit. He felt his section of the ship enter the atmosphere, and magnetized his boots to stay stable during the vicious shaking. Finally, he managed to break the barrier, just as his target was entering a single occupant drop pod.

“Now I leave this vessel for a glorious destiny. But you… You will be consumed by the storm…”

The drop pod sealed shut and fell through the floor of the bridge, a path having opened for the vehicle to travel through.

Mark ran after him and holstered his weapon, then dived headfirst through the two-meter wide passage, falling through it and into the atmosphere. He was now skydiving from the upper atmosphere without any way to slow his descent.

He tightened his limbs and held them together to minimize drag, increasing his speed. He steadily caught up with the drop pod, and when he closed enough he grabbed onto it with his right hand.

The SPARTAN activated the energy sword in his left gauntlet and sliced open the coffin-shaped vehicle, only to be tackled by Rolo ‘Duronee as he leapt out of his now-ruined pod.

“Insolent puppy!” He roared. The Fleet Master drew his own energy sword and swung it at his attacker. The swipe was dodged cleanly, and the follow up was parried.

Blocking an attack with his own sword, the soldier was sent flying several meters through the air, which the Elite quickly closed. Glancing at his HUD, he saw that his altitude was ten kilometers above sea level, and that he and his opponent would fall into the sea, not far from Equestrian shores.

He knew the Elite’s superior shielding would allow him to survive that impact, and that he could make it to land from there. The olive-clad man wasn’t too sure about his own chances.

Rolo slashed at Mark, the close proximity of his blade stripping away half of his shields. He kicked away the attacker and oriented himself for his own offensive as he noticed an aurora in the night sky, to the east.

Mark leaned forwards to fall towards his opponent and readied for a slash.

An explosion overhead coming from the plummetting bridge distracted Rolo, long enough for Mark to strike. He was parried, and the Elite grabbed his left forearm, and he grabbed his opponent’s own left arm. Now neither of them could strike, as they each struggled with each other’s grip.

“Why do you persist when you know this is futile?” Duronee spat. “The UNSC was too pathetic to eliminate us when we were an easy target! Humanity is a blight upon the galaxy, and yet you SPARTANs, the most unparalleled group of alien warriors I’ve ever seen, are too meek to lead your kind to any greater future. You insist on defending inferior beings, reporting to those you know are less than your equals. Why do you insist on defending humanity when they are doomed and your efforts are meaningless!?”

“You think I’m doing this for humanity?”

Mark headbutted his opponent, stunning him enough to loosen the alien’s grip. He pulled back his left arm and swung, only to take a kick to the chest and have his blow parried.

“Then you do this out of vengeance?”

“No!” He angled his body for a controlled swoop and flew down upon the Fleet Master. He slashed off the Elite’s sword hand and grabbed his shoulder to hold him still. “I’m doing this for something far greater than any of that that!”

Mark shoved his sword as far into his opponent as he could, until his knuckles touched the howling creature’s rib cage. Red-violet blood boiled from the wound, showing that Rolo had indeed altered his genetic makeup. He kicked off of the corpse and ripped his blade from the lifeless chest.

“I did this for her.”

Now only a little under a kilometer above the ocean, Mark prepared himself for death. For his eternal damnation. Then he closed his eyes and waited.

The last thing he felt was an enormous impact across the front of his body.

***

From the passenger bay of their Pelican, the SPARTANs and ODSTs who’d just raided the enemy’s flagship cheered as they heard the news of the remaining Covenant fleeing the system after being contacted by an unknown Elite from elsewhere in the galaxy.

It was over. The war was finished. The invasion halted. The Remnant’s leader was dead by Mark Thompson’s last act, as the Fleet Master’s IFF signal had ceased transmitting a few kilometers above Equis.

Humanity and ponykind were finally victorious.

Author's Note

Mark... Had a hard life...

Never Forget

It had been a month since the First Contact War had ended.

Outside Ponyville, a small gathering of humans and ponies attended a service at dusk. A commemoration of sorts. Behind Admiral Thaddeus Hunt and Princess Celestia was a pair of objects hidden beneath a pair of large tarps. In front of him was the whole of the gathering.

He looked at the speech he’d appropriated in part from Lord Terrence Hood, and altered slightly. After a sigh, he looked up at his audience.

“For us, the storm has passed. The war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling darkness and did not return. For their decision required courage beyond measure…

“What drove them was the belief that we had a duty to help Equis in this fight. The belief that this ugly war was necessary to keep the peoples of this planet free, and indeed to protect our own race as we rebuilt.”

He nodded to a soldier present, who pulled the tarp from one of the objects. Beneath it was a drop pod that lay on its side.

“This is the spot where our peoples made first contact. Equis and its inhabitants realized they were not alone, and humanity found that an alien race could deliver hope rather than merely the horrors so many of us knew during the Human-Covenant War.”

Twilight Sparkle and her friends, who were in attendance with the Princesses, recognized it as the exact place they’d met Mark. Twilight shut her eyes, holding in tears and suppressing sobs while her friends consoled her.

“And this is a monument to all those lost in the war.” The second tarp was removed, to reveal a large statue of a UNSC soldier, a griffon soldier, a pony soldier, and a lone SPARTAN in front of them all. The statue as a whole was painted with astonishing detail with enchanted paint that was nearly impervious to conventional wear and tear. Many of those in attendance recognized the SPARTAN's armor, though the name was unacknowledged on the plaque, as were the others.

Princess Celestia “And it is a monument to the SPARTANs. They were the first to make contact with us. They saved my life and many others mere days after their arrival. They served with bravery and distinction throughout the war, in over a dozen campaigns. One of them almost died to save Manehattan. And just as they were the first humans to make contact with us, they were also the last to make the ultimate sacrifice, so that we could all live free.”

“Present arms!” A human sergeant boomed. A mixture of seven uniformed ponies and humans raised their weapons and fired a single shot each. Then another shot. And a third shot to complete the salute.

Princess Celestia ambled to her student, who motioned for her friends to leave her for the moment.

“Twilight…” The normally eloquent alicorn struggled to find words to console her student.

“It means a lot to me, what you said about him up there. I know you thought he was a bad person, but I know he felt about me the same way I felt about him. When we spent time together, he made it all about making me happy, he treated me better than royalty. He was satisfied just to be with me, and he looked past us being different species.”

“In those letters I wrote you, I tried to dissuade you from being with him less because of who he was, and more because I wanted to protect you from this kind of loss. I meant all that I wrote, but I’m glad that I was wrong about much of it, and that he did make you happy.”

“He made me promise him something on Hearts and Hooves Day. That if he didn’t come back, I’d mourn him, but not for too long. He didn’t want me to give up on life, love or happiness. He didn’t even think he was good enough for me, and he wanted me to have a long happy life, like he never had.”

Princess Celestia hugged her student as she sobbed quietly, closing her own eyes.

***

It was a long trek, but it was almost over. He had to tell her something, let her know that things would be okay. He felt it was an obligation to deliver the message of a few words, ones that would mean everything to her.

After the extreme impact he’d suffered a month prior combined with the theft of his armor several months prior, it was no wonder he’d dropped off the grid after impact. Outwardly he looked fine, and he’d subsisted on the land as he made his way to deliver that message. His equipment all worked fine, with the exception of his tracking device.

He hadn’t called it in because he wanted her to hear it in person, not secondhand from someone else. But in a few hours, he’d be able to finally end that month-long journey.

***

That night, Twilight tucked Spike in for bed and kissed him goodnight, watching as the child peacefully drifted off to sleep. When she climbed into her own bed, it was something denied to her as she cried into her pillow.

Though she was nowhere near selfish enough to end her own life, at that moment in time she would have welcomed death, secretly hoping to join her lover for the rest of eternity, wherever he was.

She heard her door open, and responded through her tears.

“I’m- I’m fine Spike, I’m just a bit emotional from that ded-dedication,” She said, assuming it was her assistant coming to console her. She got no response, save for the door being closed.

She heard quiet footfalls approach, and when she rolled over and looked for the source she couldn’t believe her eyes. After she rubbed the tears out of them, she felt a gloved hand on her cheek and heard a familiar male voice. She smiled through her tears.

“When I make a girl a promise…”

Arrival

It was beautiful. They could see the whole of the visible universe, thousands upon thousands of stars, planets and nebulae; and all of it was visible to the naked eye that night. An aurora, a strange sight for such a temperate clime as Ponyville, gently caressed the sky. The aurora gave a soft mixture of blue and green glow to the already beautiful night, only drowning out the dimmest stars. Even more wonderful, there was a meteor shower that night, the shooting stars streaking silently across the dark, star-sprinkled backdrop.

Twilight Sparkle had predicted all of this would happen on that night, and brought her six closest friends with her to see it. Spike, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity and Fluttershy; all were in attendance. They were as in awe at the magnificent spectacle before them as she was. They all lied on the soft grass, with the exception of Twilight. She gazed at the meteor shower with her telescope, which she had brought with her.

This was the second time Twilight had brought her friends to see a meteor shower, the last time had been over a year ago, just before she’d gotten Owloysius. This meteor shower wasn’t as impressive as the previous one, but the aurora more than made up for that. The key differences were that this time they’d found a much more secluded spot to watch the beauty unfold, brought a new copy of the book Spike had burned last time, the “Astronomical Astronomer's Almanac to All Things Astronomy”, and brought more snacks to enjoy. Twilight had also brought a tripod mount for her telescope, for a more stable view.

Spike laid next to Rarity, who was bordered by Fluttershy to her right, Applejack to her front, and Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie to her rear. Twilight began to peer through her telescope, munching one of the cookies Pinkie had brought. The meteoroids were all small streaks of white, which she knew was normal.

“Hey, check out those three!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, pointing to a trio of particularly bright meteors, trailing orange flames as they entered the atmosphere. The rest of the group looked at the patch of the sky Dash indicated. They expected Twilight to explain the phenomena.

Twilight turned her telescope to the peculiar meteoroids, and appeared visibly puzzled. “They shouldn’t be that way,” she began, “Those meteoroids should have broken up by now. And they should be on a trajectory almost perfectly parallel to the other ones.”

“Maybe you could move them a little closer, or into focus or something,” Spike suggested.

“Well, they’re moving a lot slower than the rest of the meteoroids, so I think the impact wouldn’t do much more than leave a small mark on the ground. I’ve only ever used telekinesis on an object that far away once before, so it might not make much of a difference. Here goes nothing!” With that, she began to channel her effort into her magic. Her horn began to glow, softly at first, but then it quickly became as bright as the full moon above them.

One of the curious meteoroids had its path altered successfully, which led to a small cheer from Spike. But Twilight couldn’t fully control the path of the object, which veered sharply towards them. Twilight cut off the spell at that point, and realized she had just put it on a path towards them! As they ran, Pinkie’s tail began to twitch like mad.

The space rock careened towards them, and the group scattered as to avoid being hit by it. When it landed, it hit near where Twilight and her friends had originally been situated, and left a skid mark in the dirt a meter deep, and twenty meters long.

***

Ten minutes earlier, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Thompson, SPARTAN-III designation A-217, was about to enter a Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle. Colloquially known as a “drop pod”, the so-called vehicle was used primarily by Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, but was also used by other United Nations Space Command Special Forces.

Mark was a fairly high-ranking officer of the ground forces of Eagle Sword, a semi-autonomous fleet composed of some of the best personnel from all branches of the UNSC military, with the fleet itself numbering two dozen ships. While the fleet operated independently of most UNSC formations, it still reported to UNSC High Command. This meant that it still carried out the orders given by the top brass.

Eagle Sword possessed one of the largest concentrations of SPARTAN-III’s of any fleet, and was equipped with some of the best technology humanity had to offer. Several of the fleet's vessels, though dating from the Human-Covenant War or before, had been modified to use energy shields, like those used by the remnants of the Covenant Empire. Many of the ships had been assembled in installations constructed with the help of materials from allied Elites, which enabled the UNSC fleet to quickly approach its peak size from mid-2552.

In addition, much of the technology used and pioneered on Reach before it was glassed was utilized by ES personnel. The YSS-1000 Sabre fighter and various armor ability modules were among the tech used. In fact, much of it had been heavily modified and upgraded using the technology developed after the Human-Covenant War. However, the nature of their autonomy meant that most of their upgrades were made themselves, based on data packets sent to them, and that they still used older base technology than fleets that were more tethered to home bases.

For this particular mission, most of the fleet was waiting just outside of the solar system, with only three ships in orbit around the planet known as “Equis”. Among them was the UNSC Deliverance, a Marathon-class cruiser.

On board the Deliverance, Mark briefed his two teammates. One was Captain Ethan Natick, SPARTAN-III designation B-052, and the other was Major Jason Greer, SPARTAN-III designation B-146.

The three of them were practically family, having known each other and served together for most of the Human-Covenant War. They worked best as a small group and in a way they'd been lucky to be kept as such, insulated against the emotional effects of the war's losses by both the emotional callouses they'd formed over the years and the small number of people they cared about. A few other teams of S-IIIs were friends of theirs, but they all tried to keep their distance emotionally

“One last time,” Mark began, “One month ago, a first contact team was sent to this planet to make contact with what’re believed to be sentient inhabitants. The team was twenty-three strong, with thirteen of those being Army personnel. The rest were scientists and diplomats. They were dropped off by a frigate, which flew them in on Pelicans. The frigate waited on the dark side of the moon for a signal from the team, and they never got it. The frigate was ordered to leave, being told a fleet would be assembled to investigate. I guess we can’t risk running into a fleet of Covie remnants unprepared. The brass made a decision and we're the ones investigating. Additionally, because of the possibility that the native sentients are not hostile, and the first contact team was incapacitated by local fauna, we are to return fire only. We’re gonna have to be soldiers, detectives and diplomats on this one; so Jason, you can use your winning charm, and Ethan, you just try to watch your mouth. Get prepped, we drop in five minutes.”

The whole team had been given a crash-course on diplomacy just days earlier, and they now knew why. Their new training suggested that they use their actual names - albeit only their first names - to make themselves more approachable, although they should allow the hosts to go first if possible in order to judge any potential differences in customs.

Mark, Ethan and Jason climbed into their pods, their weapons stowed securely on the sides of the interior. They all went through whatever psychological preparations made them comfortable.

The SOEIV’s dropped perfectly in sync, their occupants ready for whatever awaited them on the admittedly picturesque planet below.

“One last thing,” Mark said, just as the pods hit the atmosphere, “Maintain radio silence; we don’t know what’s down there. Head to the rendezvous point, and then proceed to the last known location of the first contact team. Anyone not at the RV an hour after we hit dirt will be left to scout on their own. If the Deliverance detects that one of us is dead, captured, or otherwise incapacitated, they’ll send us an untraceable burst transmission informing the rest of us of such a status. Otherwise, assume any indication of harm to be a temporary setback. Do not break radio silence until you have reached the objective, or until you have been on the ground for at least four days, whichever comes first.” The outermost layer of the drop pods had almost completely peeled off by that point. “Assume nothing.”

The most of the ride down was uneventful, or as uneventful as entering the atmosphere of an alien planet in metal and ceramic container could be. The heat inside the pod had begun climbing down from its blistering peak temperature when something Mark couldn’t have expected occurred.

A purple glow enveloped the exterior of the pod, as Mark could see from the thick transparent canopy in front of him. The luminosity quickly ramped up in intensity from a faint shimmer to an obvious glare. Synchronized with the increasing radiance of the vehicle was an increasing course change. The SOEIV veered sharply to the south, and approached the ground at a thirty degree angle, which would lead to a deep skid upon landing. Mark had never seen or heard of this phenomenon before, but he kept his calm and gripped the handles on the interior tight enough to leave slight imprints on the metal.

Rule 18. "Fear is an advisor, not a commanding officer."

The glow ceased about ten seconds before impact, by which time Mark shut his eyes, preferring to open them upon landfall rather than blink when he hit dirt.

***

Rainbow Dash was the first to investigate the space oddity, reaching it in the first ten seconds after the impact. The rest of the group cantered over, with Spike riding on Twilight Sparkle’s back. The peculiar construct seemed to be thrice their height in its length and wide as they were long.

“Well, that’s the last time I try to mess with meteoroids,” Twilight said with a relieved sigh. She looked closer at the object, with Spike dismounting from her back to stand alongside her. The gang formed a semi-circle around what they didn’t know was the back side of the mysterious anomaly, with the skid mark being on the right side.

“That don’t look natural to me Twilight,” Applejack cautioned, “It looks awfully, uh, what’s the word for-”

“Symmetrical?”

“Yeah, that’s it!”

“Well, you’re right, it does seem artificial in nature. The surface is too geometric to be natural, and even a crystal wouldn’t form this perfectly.”

Pinkie Pie began shaking all over, which her friends knew meant a “doozy”. They had enough experience with her Pinkie Sense to know to watch for anything it warned of. They all backed away slowly from the unnatural artifact before them, not taking their eyes off of it.

***

Mark opened his eyes a second after the pod came to a stop, just as he meant to do. He undid his harness, and checked his equipment. He grabbed his weapons, a loaded M392 Designated Marksman Rifle with his right hand and a loaded M319 Individual Grenade Launcher with his left. Slinging the grenade launcher onto the magnetic strip on the back of his armor, Mark hit the button to shoot the canopy off of the pod, having seen no obstructions in the way.

***

The seven friends who had discovered this anomaly saw the side of the object facing almost completely away from them fly off, with a loud crump accompanying the launch, and a thud when the segment hit the ground ten yards away. They rushed to the other side, and the figure emerging from the construct became apparent. It was a biped vaguely similar in shape to Spike, sans the tail, a little less than twice their height, colored in olive green, gray and black. There was a slight blue glow on parts of it and they glimpsed what looked like a single shiny blue eye shaped like a shield. At least, they thought it would look like that based on the assumption that its features were symmetric.

Its motions were rapid as it exited, but it was not twitchy or hyperactive like their pink cohort. As it proceeded, it raised what was obviously a weapon. A notion of fear went through them all, and they gasped.

***

Mark heard an audible gasp - or what sounded to him like a gasp - and whipped around with his rifle at the ready. What he saw surprised him: six colorful miniature equines, two with wings, two with horns, and two without either of these.

“What the hay are you?” the purple horned one asked in a tone laden with fear. It was in a defensive posture, head low to the ground and rear elevated. He recognized a look of genuine fear on the alien’s face.

The translation software in Mark’s helmet said it was regular English, meaning that his suit didn’t actually have to translate anything, which automatically put the program on standby. This puzzled him, and he decided to respond, lowering his rifle, but keeping it at the ready. He decided to act somewhat diplomatic, given that he intimidated these seemingly docile beings.

“You first, as it would seem I’m the guest here,” Trying his best to be diplomatic. He didn't have a lot of confidence in that particular ability.

“Y’all speak English?” a non-horned, non-winged one wearing a Stetson hat and sporting a palomino-like color scheme countered.

“I’m kinda shocked that you do too, and even more since you have a southern American accent.” Mark paused, hesitant to give his own name despite what he'd explicitly been told, but decided that a first name would suffice. “Call me… Mark. Your names?”

“My name is Twilight Sparkle.” The purple horned one.

“Applejack.” The palomino one, hat, southern accent.

“Name’s Rainbow Dash.” Sky blue, winged and with a rainbow mane.

“I’m Pinkie Pie!” Pink, puffy mane. Hyperactive.

“Rarity, at your service.” White, violet mane, horned.

“I’m- I’m Fluttershy.” Yellow, pink mane, winged, soft voice.

“And I’m Spike.” Bipedal, reptilian, purple and green.

“You wouldn’t mind telling me what you all are, would you?”

“Don’t y’all have ponies where you come from?” Applejack asked.

“Well, Applejack and Pinkie Pie are earth ponies, Rarity and I are unicorns, and Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy are pegasi. Spike’s a baby dragon. Earth ponies are strong, pegasi can fly, obviously, and unicorns can use magic.” Twilight Sparkle explained, which left Mark with more questions.

What the hell? I land on an alien planet, and my welcoming committee is talking mythological creatures? And they speak English too?

Okay, one possibility is that human mythology is partially true - with regards to supposedly mythical creatures - and aliens at some point duplicated or moved them to this planet. Given the length of time since the Forerunners ruled the galaxy, they might have moved most of the populations of such creatures to this planet before they activated the Halo arrays, during which time since the Forerunners died out, the creatures developed sentience and unusual abilities and traits. Humans would know of them from the remaining non-sentient variants that could have died out fairly early in recorded history. That would also allow for dangerous creatures that could’ve killed the FC team. That seems like a reasonable hypothesis, I’ll go with that.

I'm really overthinking this.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked Mark, probably wondering why he suddenly went silent.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was thinking about how strange of a situation I’m in.”

“And what the hay are you?” Rainbow Dash demanded, hovering in place with an obvious leer.

Mark hesitated, before deciding not to reveal anything more than the name of his species, wary of another genocidal alien race.

“Human.”

“That’s impossible, there’s no such thing as humans. Besides, you only have the vague shape of one.” Twilight Sparkle said dismissively, waving her hoof and smiling.

“Well, ten minutes ago I would’ve said the same about unicorns, pegasi, and sentient ponies in general, so right back at you. And the reason I only have the outline of a human is because I’m wearing a something that covers my whole body. Your turn.”

“Okay, well assuming that’s true, I have several questions. Why are you here, why would you need armor, how did you get here, and why are you carrying a weapon?” At the last one, Twilight pointed to his DMR, which he still had drawn, but was carrying in a safe, lowered position.

“I’ll answer those in order, not because I trust you, but because you might be helpful. I’m here to investigate the disappearance of a first contact team, whose objective was to establish peaceful diplomatic relations with the inhabitants of this world; that means you. Because my people have a lack of information on the circumstances under which the aforementioned team disappeared, it’s best to take precautions in case they were killed and whatever killed ‘em is still around. I got here by a drop pod, which you saw. Something caused my pod to veer off course, which resulted in my landing here. And this weapon is a safety precaution.”

“More questions.” Twilight said nervously, but still smiling. She didn’t realize she’d interfered with his job.

“Sorry, but I’ve got about…” Mark checked his mission timer “Damn. I’d have to cover 10 klicks in 20 minutes. Well, looks like I’m on my own.”

“On your own?” Rarity this time.

“I dropped with a team. I woulda landed near them, but like I said, something screwed up the trajectory.”

“Ooh! Ooh! You can come with us! What kinda food do humans eat? You can stay at one of our places!” Pinkie Pie was ecstatic, wanting to make a new friend, finding it exciting to possibly gain an alien one.

“I’ve still got a job to do, but it couldn’t hurt to set up a base of operations ahead of time; my team can handle themselves. As for you question, humans are omnivorous, so we can eat fruits, veggies, nuts, meat, starches, some fungi, as long as it ain’t poisonous. I’d like a minute to think.” Mark said.

My armor should be able to analyze the edibility of any foodstuffs available in the field, but I brought seven nutrient bar rations, enough to sustain me for about a week. Hopefully, I won’t have to use them all. If I do, the food around here is likely edible to some extent, assuming my current hypothesis explaining the presence of mythological creatures is correct. If it’s not edible, 100,000 years is sufficient time for evolutionary adaptations to take place, so my hypothesis wouldn't necessarily be disproven.

What’s more, it would be a good idea to set up friendly relations with the locals, because it would help to accomplish the objective of the missing FC team, as well as allow for an outpost to be established.

“Alright, given the situation, I think it’d be best if I stayed at one of your places. Who here has a place with enough room for me? I'm sorry I can't answer your questions, but it isn't safe for me to stay in the open.”

“I do, I got a barn at Sweet Apple Acres, a bit east ‘o here. Y’all are welcome to stay there, long as ya don’t cause any trouble,” Applejack offered. “But uh, it might be a bit hard getting ya there without attractin’ a lotta unwanted attention.” She followed that with a worried smile.

“East, huh? Well, that puts it right in the path I was gonna take. As for not attracting attention, I can do that more easily than you think. Just head for that barn you mentioned, and tell me when I can come out of hiding. I’ll be there, don’t you worry.”

He faded into a faint shimmer and disappeared.

"Whoa!"

They Came In Peace; They Came In War

Mark and his team retrieved the FC team’s Pelican, after describing the establishment of peaceful relations with the leader of a nation to Vice Admiral Hunt. The three-star admiral sent a recovery team to collect the bodies of the dead FC team, as well as several Pelicans and Albatrosses to set up a camp on the Apple’s farm.

The Pelican, being flown by Jason, headed back to Sweet Apple Acres, where Applejack, her friends, and her family gazed in awe at the dropship. The rear bay door opened, with Mark standing inside. The setting sun glared in Mark’s eyes.

“Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Spike,” he sounded off their names. “You’ve just been invited to attend a diplomatic summit in Canterlot Castle. Come on, it starts in half an hour!”

Rarity spoke first. “Only half an hour? But we’re almost a hundred miles away! How would we make it in time?”

“Well, hop in! This ain’t a living being, it won’t eat you.” Mark shouted over the din of the Pelican’s thrusters.

“You’re saying that you can get us a hundred miles in thirty minutes with that thing?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“No, I’m saying that we can get there in ten minutes, now get in, it’s perfectly safe!”

Reluctantly, the group obeyed, jumping onto the dropship’s step and trotting inside. They displayed concern when the doors closed, although Mark quickly allayed those fears.

“Just relax, we’ll be travelling at about six hundred miles an hour, so buckle up.” Mark used the imperial measurement because earlier speech indicated that was what they used, and he had a slight preference for it too, although the UNSC used the metric system primarily.

“S-s-six hundred?” Fluttershy stuttered, clearly scared.

“I don’t trust any wings that aren’t my own,” Rainbow Dash stated.

“Relax, the D77-TC Pelican is a perfectly safe vehicle. It’s vacuum sealed, reliable, and well-armored. It’s more dangerous to swallow toothpaste than to ride in one of these,” Mark assured them.

“Quit being such wussies, you’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re being shot at or anything,” Ethan piped in.

Mark took off his helmet for the first time in his nineteen hours on Equis. His face was a fairly handsome one; Caucasian, black-brown hair, hazel eyes, clean-shaven, mildly tanned, a crew cut, and a thin scar running along the left side of his jaw. He was undoubtedly the first human the ponies had ever seen, and now the first they’d seen the actual face of. The ponies stared at him for the remainder of the trip, although they tried not to make it obvious.

A bit later, the passengers felt the dropship decelerate. The bay doors opened, and they could see that they were landing in the courtyard of the castle. Mark, Jason, Ethan, and the ponies exited the Pelican.

The courtyard itself was expansive, filled with trees, flowers and birds. What Mark assumed were royal guards stood rigid alongside the various pathways. Most of them sported a gold-colored armor, and spears. Either ponies had primitive war-fighting technology, or these guards wielded the spears ceremonially.

A white unicorn with a red vest and blue mane stood just outside the door to the castle to greet them.

“Twili!” he shouted, and Twilight galloped towards him, embracing him. “I haven’t seen you since my wedding!”

“Mark, this is my brother, Shining Armor. He’s the captain of the royal guard. Shine, this is Mark and, um, I just realized I don’t know your names.” She indicated Ethan and Jason were the ones she and her friends didn’t know.

“Major Jason Greer, at your service. I’m the silver one with the blue visor. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Captain Ethan Natick. Mean ‘n green.”

“The shield on your vest is crooked.”

“Oh, thanks!” Shining Armor looked embarrassed, considering he was trying to make a good impression on a visiting delegation.

“No problem.”

There were escorts for the delegates, both ponies and UNSC personnel, each wielding their own weapons.

Once they were inside, Mark and his team sat down on chairs that had been specially provided just for them; some cushioning, and a very sturdy frame to support the weight they possessed while wearing their armor.

Oddly, Mark’s team was not asked to relinquish their weapons; in all likelihood, their pony hosts did recognize them as weapons, given that Twilight had immediately recognized his rifle as one. The same went for the human delegates’ escorts, who were using Army uniforms and equipment. Perhaps Princess Celestia wished the humans to feel more at ease, or was confident that their weapons wouldn't be able to really harm her and viewed them as a parent would view a safety blanket.

All guests besides the escorts sat at a large, well-made oak table, about ten meters long and two meters wide.

Various non-carnivorous foods and desserts had been provided by the hosts as sustenance for the guests, and the delegation brought gifts of technology, literature, and replicas of various human artworks, ranging from Da Vinci to Cézanne to the art of the modern day. It seemed rather lopsided to Mark. Then again, humanity was trying to display good intentions: they were the ones with something to prove.

Ethan and Jason removed their helmets to eat. Ethan revealed a sandy tan face, with golden-blonde hair and green eyes. Jason had swept back brown hair, almost generically attractive Caucasian features and sky blue eyes. They set their helmets down on the table, and waited for permission to start eating.

Princess Celestia used her magic to tap a glass with a spoon. Any idle chatter ceased immediately.

“I’d like to say something. This has all been very abrupt, what with this rapid transition from first contact to establishment of diplomatic relations in less than twenty-four hours. Our peoples are quite different, and I imagine our ways of living as well. But as the very existence of the late first-contact team indicates, there is clearly a mutual interest in peace. Your race is welcome to our vast and great nation, and may travel as they see fit, as long as reasonable order is kept. I plan to disseminate information regarding this momentous event to the world, so that nopony on this planet should be alarmed. None of us wish for panic, fear of the unknown and anarchy to take Equis, in fact I hope for the opposite: joy, wonder and a new peace. I hope that our societies can prosper together, and that we can lay the groundwork for a better tomorrow, today. I will certainly work to make this vision a reality.”

The speech was met with a standing ovation by the humans, and the ponies performed their equivalent. Celestia introduced her sister, Princess Luna, and she spoke too, saying largely the same thing. The same reaction was produced as well. The hosts allowed the banquet to commence.

Mark, Ethan and Jason skipped straight to dessert, not for a lack of discipline, but because Black Forest Cake was a tantalizing dessert for men who rarely even had ice cream. They all took reasonable slices, grabbed sparkling apple cider, some silverware, and took their seats again.

The cake was delicious, as was the cider. The SPARTAN-IIIs of Knife team savored this meal immensely. They likely enjoyed it more than any other person or pony in the room.

***

Fleet Master Rolo’Duronee gazed upon a spec-ops team’s transmission of this gathering from orbit. His fleet of Covenant remnants had been in system for months, studying the society on Equis. He believed that such unique races as existed on the planet would reinvigorate the Covenant were they to be integrated. The vast mineral wealth on the planet below would certainly aid in both the economic and logistical reformation of the Covenant.

His “fleet” consisted of a mere thirteen ships, but they were crewed with able bodies, still faithful to the cause of the Covenant. They all still believed in the Great Journey, regardless of the San ’Shyuum betrayal of the Sangheili. And even in those relatively few ships, there were thousands of soldiers that stood ready to follow his orders.

He knew that the human fleet would cause unacceptable losses on his fleet, being outnumbered two-to-one; so he held back his fleet on the opposite side of the planet, where he could preserve his ships and his stealth. In times past, heavy casualties and reckless maneuvers could be tolerated; the Covenant had near-bottomless resources then. This time, it would a careful game of attrition.

In his observation of the planet below, he determined that by incapacitating the leadership of the most powerful nation on the planet and conquering it, the rest of the planet would fall without effort. Eliminating a group of prominent humans was a fringe benefit, but one he particularly savored.

“Capture the princesses alive. If possible, capture the others; if not, they are expendable. May the gods aid our cause.”

***

After second helpings, Knife team left their seats, picked up their helmets, carried them under their arms, and began to socialize.

“So uh, you dropped onto Equis in a metal pod? What was that like?” Rainbow Dash asked Ethan.

“Well, the temperature inside the pod approaches the boiling point of water, so it gets pretty hot in there. Most people who use the drop pods don’t have the benefit of wearing advanced armor like Jason, Mark and I have, but they still put up with the heat. Don’t get me wrong though, only the toughest humans can take the heat, and they go through the some of the hardest training there is.”

“Yeesh, that sounds nasty.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

A bit further away, Fluttershy conversed with Jason.

“So, your armor, it’s kind of a dull color. Why?”

“Well, this is grey-silver is flashy compared to most UNSC armor. Mostly we use dull colors because gaudy colors attract a lot of attention, and make the wearer easier to see.”

“But what problem would that create? You humans seem peaceful, everypony thinks so.”

This drew a chuckle from Jason. “True, but sometimes natives aren’t too friendly when we’re, ah, exploring.” Jason smiled, and Fluttershy returned the gesture.

“I see.”

Mark was looking out the skylight as the stars above, leaning against a wall as he did so.

“Any constellation in particular you’re looking at? Maybe your home star?” Twilight asked.

“Nope, I don’t really know the constellations too well, believe it or not. I guess it’s because they change every time you go somewhere else. I ain’t telling the name of my star or anything, there’s a whole protocol about that. It’s better that way anyhow.”

“Why is it better not to tell the name of your home star?”

Mark was opening his mouth to answer when he heard the distinct discharge of plasma weaponry.

That's why.

It seemed that Ethan and Jason did too, because they all put on their helmets and drew their weapons. Jason chose his M6G magnum sidearm over the SRS-99 AM sniper rifle slung over his back, and Ethan likewise chose his MA37 assault rifle over the M41 rocket launcher he usually carried. Mark kept his M319 grenade launcher slung and drew his M392 DMR.

There was panic in the hall, as the UNSC Eagle Sword escorts urged all non-combatants to take cover, and took defensive positions. Ethan kick-flipped the table to use it as cover, and rested his rifle on the solid oak.

“Shit, Covenant!”

“Everybody down!”

“Get behind something and cover your ears, it’s about to get loud!”

A half dozen Grunts shuffled down a hallway, firing plasma pistols and needler rounds as they went. Behind them was a trio of Jackals, their shields interlocked in a phalanx, and behind them were three Elites. Knife team opened fire, their armor piercing rifle rounds tearing the diminutive Grunts to ribbons, and splashing the hallway with phosphorescent blue fluid.

Mark tossed a grenade behind the Jackals, which blew them forwards and shattered their fragile bones, simultaneously taking down one of the Elites’ shields, which prompted Mark to deliver a killshot to the exposed gullet of the roaring alien, severing his spinal column.

The other two were dropped by a combination of fire from Knife team and the Eagle Sword escorts, leaving a fresh layer of indigo paint on the hallway.

The SPARTANs and ES infantry reloaded and checked for casualties. Miraculously, nobody had been hit, the only damage done was to the walls of the castle.

“Damn it!”

“Okay, does this castle have a safe room, somewhere with sturdy walls and no windows?” Mark asked, hoping for a "yes".

“N-no,” Celestia said loudly, her ears clearly ringing from the staccato of gunfire and explosions that had just made their debut to an audience of Equestrian nobility. “Well, there’s a cellar that should be safe, but it’s on the other side of the castle.”

“That’ll do. Surgeon, Maverick,” Mark began, using his teammates’ callsigns, “Split up and take Alpha and Bravo squads, clear the building. Charlie, you’re with me. We take the VIPs. Move out!”

“Alright,” Celestia began, “We follow the red carpet until it forks into blue and green carpets, and we take the blue path. Then we take the staircase at the end of the path down and we’ll be safe.” She was visibly shaken from the assault, likely never having seen firearms used in person, or lives taken so quickly.

“Got it. Charlie Five through Eight, watch our asses. One through Four, take point.”

“You’re acting like you’ve done this before. I thought humans were peaceful!” Twilight said, half questioning, half exclaiming.

Mark proceeded down the path Princess Celestia indicated, and saw Charlie Two impaled by an orange Elite wielding an energy sword upon entering a larger room from a narrow hallway. The hulking alien drove the two-pronged blade right through Two’s chest and into the wall, boiling the poor man’s innards for a few moments before he died.

Mark hit the alien officer in the side of the head with the butt of his DMR, punched him in the gut, and grabbed one of his mandibles before slamming the alien’s head into a beautifully painted wall until purple blood stained the mural. He drew his knife and stabbed the beast’s throat, just to make sure he was dead.

Two more Elites dropped from the skylight. Mark fired six shots to kill one of them, with five to take down the shields, and one to the head to kill him. The other fired his plasma rifle at Mark and Charlie team, hitting Four in the thigh. The heat from the three shots burst an artery and scorched the impacted area, resulting in her leg being reduced to a thin composite of blood and bone, killing her by the third hit.

That one was finished by the rest of Charlie squad, but not before Mark’s shields were taken down, and he dove to the side and shot out the enemy’s own shields.

“Yeah, well that isn’t exactly reality, Twilight. Truth is, we’ve been fighting these bastards for thirty years. We finally beat ‘em two years ago, but there’s still remnants here and there. Besides, you knew we were military, what’d you expect?”

Mark’s shields had begun to recharge about halfway through the first sentence, and finished by the end of the second sentence. The ponies could see the golden shimmer as they reached full strength.

“I know, you’re military,” Twilight replied, flustered, “But I thought it was to fight feral beasts and protect from disasters, not to fight other sentient beings!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your race was so idealistic about the behavior of potential aliens,” Mark began sarcastically, “I’m a pessimist, I prefer to assume the worst. That way, when things turn out better than ‘absolutely horrible’, I’m pleasantly surprised, and when they are that bad, I can just walk it off. Although, we do perform the duties you mentioned as well.”

“And you withheld the existence of hostile aliens why?” Celestia demanded.

Mark and Charlie squad proceeded to the staircase, with most of them guarding the rear as the human and pony VIPs made their way down. Mark took point, and made sure there was no cloaked Covies in the room.

“It didn’t seem relevant at the time. We only see remnants sporadically, and we didn’t think they’d try something with a fair sized UNSC fleet in orbit.”

“How did this whole thing start? I mean, you didn’t hesitate to kill them at all, it’s like it was personal!” Twilight demanded an explanation, and her friends all seemed to be equally curious.

“The short version of the conflict is this. Thirty years ago, on the planet Harvest, we made first contact. It was with the Covenant, who considered our very existence an affront to their gods. So they waged a war of extermination against us, burning the surfaces of entire worlds into glass, killing civilians and military alike without any miniscule amount of mercy. Before the war, we had colonized dozens of planets, and had a population of thirty-nine billion people. By the time the war ended, we had only sixteen billion, most of whom were refugees. I saw my parents die in front of me, so did a lot of other kids. So for most humans, this is personal, because most of us have lost friends or family to the Covenant. And I’m damn sure that this isn’t a case of Covies following us and attacking us after we make contact with friendly aliens. It’s one of the very few things I’d stake my life on. If they’re here on Equis, there’s something they want on this planet.”

Fluttershy started to cry at the thought of so much death, and her friends did their best to comfort her. All of the ponies seemed visibly shaken. Even the ones who thought of a million deaths as a statistic were horrified by the notion of worlds burned from the sky. Equally shocking was that these aliens had slaughtered a quantity of humans equal to Equis' entire population almost four times over.

“Look, I’m sorry about this,” Mark started, addressing the whole room, “If I thought it would spare your planet pain and suffering I’d personally push for a withdrawal of forces from this system, for whatever good that would do. But it won’t help. So I need you to be strong, so that when we win, you can live happily ever after.”

If there is such a thing.

The rest of Charlie squad had made it into the cellar. They checked each other for wounds of any sort, and administered biofoam to a few burns from near-misses by Covenant plasma weaponry. That would help stabilize the wounded.

Mark opened up his comms. “Surgeon, Maverick, give me a sitrep!”

“Surgeon here, we’ve mopped up the last of them. I got what looks like the strike force’s leader, an Ultra. He had a datafile on him, heavy encryption. Emmerich should be able to break it.”

Emmerich was the new “Prodigy” AI that Eagle Sword had been issued. Prodigy AIs had the same abilities as regular “Smart” AIs, the only difference was that they had an estimated average lifespan of about seventy-seven years as opposed to the mere seven years of a regular smart AI.

“All right. Deliverance, we have just countered an assault by Covenant remnants. Advise base camp be set near here, and a significant presence be established at the castle for security purposes.”

“Affirmative, Raptor. We’ll set up a garrison at the castle ASAP.”

“Copy, Raptor out.”

“What was that about?” Applejack queried.

“I just advised the fellas in orbit to set up a base down here, to protect against further incursions like this.”

“I can’t believe they got through my guards so easily,” Shining Armor said to himself.

“Look, they didn’t stand a chance to begin with. I don’t know if they even had fighting skills in the first place, or if they were a ceremonial group. What I do know is that we can protect this castle, and possibly train some ponies in the use of UNSC weaponry so that you can better defend yourselves.”

A few minutes later, the “all-clear” signal was given, and Mark brought the ponies out. Backup had arrived, and it was wearing ODST black.

Escape from New Yoke

“Sir, what do you need us for?” Mark asked.

“After I heard about the op you pulled with those Sabers, I requested dossiers on you three and information on Miss Sparkle. Using those, I got an idea of what I can use you for. Miss Sparkle?”

“Yes?” She replied wearily.

“We’re having problems keeping tabs on the civilians here. I need you to help keep track of the ones we’ve slated for the primary evac and use the criteria we’ve set to organize them. Martinez!”

A UNSC corporal reported to the earth pony’s office. “Yes sir?”

“Escort Miss Sparkle to the evac organization area. She’ll be taking desk twelve.”

“Yessir!” Martinez answered. “When you’re ready ma’am.”

“Hey, Twilight,” Wall asked quietly. “Could you keep tabs on Helia and make sure she gets out okay?”

“Sure.” Twilight smiled, and followed the corporal to her new assignment.

“Lieutenant Wall, Warrant Officer Carpenter.”

“Sir,” They responded in unison.

“You two will help command the perimeter defense. Get yourselves some shut-eye in the next room, you start at 0900.” It was already 0450, so that left them a bit over four hours to rest. They opened the door to one of the many makeshift barracks, one of which was directly accessible from Clay's office, removed their gear and fell asleep on the thin mattresses. For all their lack of comfort, they were still better than the carpet and sheets they’d been sleeping on before.

Mark shut the door to the soldiers' temporary quarters, and turned to face Clay. They were alone in his office now

“Lieutenant Colonel Thompson. After the primary and secondary evacs, the UNSC will be taking command of the situation, barring Princess Celestia herself intervening. But for now you’ll be running an op to help extract griffon delegates from the island. They’ve got an Osprey-class nuclear attack submarine waiting several miles out to sea. The Covenant haven’t paid any attention to the VIPs we've extracted by boat, in this case a commandeered yacht, but what’s left of the CM forces want them alive. That’s why I need you to help them get to the exfil point safely, and bring that boat back. Civilian vessels have been a discreet and valuable asset to us since we got here, and that hasn’t changed.”

“Understood, sir. Where do I report?” Mark said, actually happy to have a real mission instead of simply fighting for survival like he had been so far.

“The courtyard at 0600. A waypoint should be coming up now. Any ammunition you need will be supplied just prior to your dispatch.”

And one did, his neural implants overlaying a waypoint on his HUD. Mark nodded in acknowledgement.

“Good. You’ve got a bit more than an hour to do whatever you want. A mess hall is a just past the evac organization area; once you walk back out that door just turn left and keep on ‘til you hit the door.”

Mark saluted him and headed back out. Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the mess hall until he saw the door he knew Twilight was behind.

“Ah, what the Hell,” he muttered. “Might as well.” Mark entered the room, which resembled an office space, minus the gunfire that he usually associated with such an environment. He walked to desk twelve and knocked on the cheap surface to get Twilight’s attention. She looked up, more energetic than when he’d seen her just minutes before.

“Hey. How ya holdin’ up?” He asked with a weak smile, leaning sideways against the plaster wall.

“Yeah, I’m doing good. The ponies here were nice enough to give me some of their energy drinks to spread out through the day. I’ll definitely make it. How’re you handling things?”

“Good. SPARTAN training teaches you how to function on very little sleep, so I can manage a few more days with sporadic rest, more if I can get some stims. I got my first mission in a while from the Brigadier, and I’m heading out in about an hour. A real mission, but probably a milk run; just an easy VIP escort. I should be back a few hours after I leave. I’m heading to the mess hall, anything you want?”

“No,” She waved her hoof. “I’ve got candy bars and trail mix. I’d kill for a dandelion sandwich though. I already asked and they’re out, but thanks anyway. Nice talking though."

“Yeah.” Mark left and continued to the mess hall.

I’m glad she’s okay, and doing something less dangerous.

He entered the mess hall and microwaved a UNSC ration before sitting down to eat. The heated pork chops, beans, mashed potatoes and broccoli, were gone in ten minutes. It was far from one of his favorites, but he didn’t hurry or prolong it. He savored eating finally something more than the gruel he’d been fed by Star-Swirl’s thugs and the snack food and oatmeal he’d eaten at Wall’s marefriend’s place.

After his meal he felt refreshed. As he exited the room, he heard a mix of conversations through a door to his right. It had the words “civilian communications room” above it. Mark entered to see civilians and soldiers alike communicating with their families, which gave him a brief moment of envy.

One particular pair stood out to him. A pair of pegasi, a red stallion with a magenta mane, and a yellow mare with the same colored mane; both wore dirty business attire. They were making clucking noises at the screen, and when Mark moved to see what they were doing, they were saying good morning to a familiar-looking orange pegasus filly. He heard the filly giggling at whatever it was her probable parents were saying after they stopped.

“Don’t worry Scootaloo,” The mare said soothingly. “We’ll be coming home soon.”

Mark left the room and headed out to the courtyard to acquaint himself with his teammates for the coming mission.

***

A week prior, Ethan and Jason awoke around the same time, early in the morning. They removed their helmets to eat their nutrient bars, and awoke the ponies.

Rainbow Dash had her head rested on a leaf, and she was snoring softly. One of her wings was flapping a bit, which reminded Ethan of how dogs would sometimes run in their sleep. He put his hand on the side of her chest and shook her softly. Her hoof tried to swat him away, but when it came into contact with the metal of his armor she opened her eyes, remembering where she was.

“I have to uh, go, if you know what I mean,” She said.

“Don’t go far,” Ethan replied. He scratched his face and took a swig of cool water from his canteen. The air was cool to his face, and flowed over his stubble.

Jason had walked over to Fluttershy and knelt down next to her. There was a soft smile on her lips, and her chest moved up and down slowly.

“Hey, wake up,” Jason whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. Jason had opened a nutrient bar and offered it to her, which she graciously accepted. Rainbow Dash was eating one of her own too, and drinking from Ethan’s canteen.

After their breakfast, the four of them circled around the smoldering embers of the campfire and discussed their next step.

“Alright, first things first; we need to figure out who shot us down, and get rid of them,” Jason said to start the conversation.

“Are you crazy? We can’t take on a whole enemy base!” Rainbow Dash responded. “Maybe if my wing wasn’t fucked up I’d be able to figure out who did it safely, but…” Dash flexed her injured wing, and showed visible pain. “It’s still too painful to move it.”

“My wing is mostly healed. I’d offer to do a fly over, but I um, usually freeze up when I’m flying too high. There was one time I didn’t, but I’d rather not risk it,” Fluttershy agreed.

“You might not be able to take on a base, but we can. The night Canterlot was attacked by CMs, our team was destroying a large Covenant camp, and we’ve pulled several ops like that since. Our only issue is finding out where our attackers were,” Ethan countered.

“Long-range communications are still jammed, but medium and short range comms are still up,” Jason said, looking at the TACPAD on his wrist. “I’ve located the crashsite and established a remote link to the Pelican’s computers, specifically the flight recorder. I’m downloading the last few minutes of flight data right now. From there I’ll figure out the trajectory of the missile that hit us, and trace it back to the source. If it took us down in one hit, it must be too large to be man-portable, and therefore stationary; that means that if I find the source of the attack, I find the base or camp.”

“And once that happens, Jason and I’ll take out the jammer and AA battery. You two will stay put while we take care of business.”

An hour later, the two SPARTANs headed out, telling the ponies to stay one last time. The trek took another hour.

“Think we’ll find a huge base, or a camp?” Ethan wondered.

“My guess is a camp. Barring some unknown method of transporting materials, nobody could build a base this close to San Cadenza without being detected,” Jason theorized.

Ethan jumped onto a huge felled tree and pulled Jason up. “Makes sense.” They slid off of the other side, and continued walking.

“I’m willing to bet that whoever shot us down has a set of orders with them. Trace and kill after this; easy enough.”

They continued walking in silence until they neared a clearing, at which point they crouched and observed.

Before them was a decent sized camp, complete with a jammer, comms array, and AA missile battery. They saw about three dozen enemies in the camp; a dozen Mamba contractors, a dozen changelings, and dozen ponies wearing their own forest camouflage instead of the SURPAT worn by the Mamba PMCs.

“Why are those changelings in disguise?” Jason wondered aloud. “And wouldn’t they be using the same gear as the mercs?”

“Dude, I don’t think those are contractors. Remember how when we got here Equis was in the middle of a Cold War between Equestria and Unikraine? I’ve got a hunch as to who these guys are…”

Jason switched to his sniper rifle and zoomed in on two particularly loud individuals who seemed to be giving orders, a unicorn and contractor. He zoomed further on their rank insignias.

“Looks like the merc’s a major,” He aimed a bit to his right. “And the pony’s a full colonel.” He looked at Ethan and lowered his rifle. “These could just be rogues; I think they’re just fanatics who see this as a way of restoring their nation’s glory. I mean, we aligned ourselves with Equestria, and therefore with NETO. That was picking sides; I wouldn’t be surprised if that rustled a few jimmies over there.”

Ethan made sure a round was chambered in his shotgun, and then in his assault rifle. His body language indicated he was eager to strike.

“Think about it, Jay. An alien race joins with your nation’s enemies, and you get left behind somewhat in the diffusion of culture. A few months later, some humans approach you and say they want to help you catch up, in exchange for resources and facilities. With Unikraine’s help, the Mambas can set up the manufacturing necessary to reverse-engineer and mass-produce the VANITY armor system and its accessories.”

“They have to know that they’re allying themselves with parasites as well, though.”

“Obviously. But they’re a dictatorship, they don’t give a dead moose’s last shit about their subjects. Look, we can debate this all day, or we can move now and find out.”

Jason considered it for a moment. “Okay, let’s move.” He held up a fist and extended three fingers. “Three.” His ring finger went down. “Two.” His middle finger fell. “One.” His last finger dropped. “Go!”

Ethan activated his decoys and charged into the fight, while Jason sprinted around to their rear and began delivering precision shots to the changelings nearest him. Their green blood painted the dirt as they dropped one by one. With the dozen SPARTANs that seemed to be attacking from one direction, they ignored Jason completely. Within the first few seconds, the only air-mobile enemies were gone.

Ethan continued to fire two-round bursts from his rifle, each one connecting and killing its target. He continued until his magazine was empty, and there were only eight left. Jason sprinted past them and used a mix of martial arts and his magnum to finish them off.

“That went quicker than expec-” Jason began before an 8 gauge magnum shotgun blast cut him off, and launched him onto his belly while disabling his shield. He turned quickly enough to see a yellow blur tackle the weapon’s unicorn user.

Similarly, the Ethan was pinned down by fire from an emplaced M247 heavy machinegun. He peeked out to take a shot at his attacker and saw a rainbow streak collide with the merc. He saw that it was Rainbow Dash, who fucked the merc’s skull until he stopped breathing and fell limp. After that she cantered over to the others.

“And you wanted to leave us behind!” Dash said with a cocky smile.

Jason stood up and grabbed the unicorn’s weapon. His shields recharged, and he snapped the weapon in half with his knee. “Well, I guess we stand corrected. I wish you hadn’t put yourselves in harm’s way, but I’m glad you did.”

Ethan destroyed the jammer, antenna, and AA battery before calling in for evac. Meanwhile, Jason tied up the surviving unicorn to take as a prisoner.

A few hours later, two Pelicans arrived. One to pick up the four of them and their captive, and one to carry soldiers to investigate the facility.

When they climbed in, they were greeted by a holographic projection of Admiral Hunt. Jason explained what had happened to them, what they’d discovered, and Ethan’s theory.

“Thank you, Major, and you too Captain. We’ll drop you off at Cadenza AFB, where Miss Dash and Miss Fluttershy will be able to see the performance they came for, and will have their injuries tended to. Our spooks will work with the EIS to dig up more on these Unikrainians.” Hunt turned to face the two soldiers. “Unfortunately, after we debrief you two, we’ll need your help for an op north of Manehattan. After that one, we’ll need you to help defend the area surrounding it.”

“Oh dear, did something happen there?” Fluttershy asked the hologram.

“Yes. It was invaded by Covenant and some CM forces. SPARTAN A-217 and Twilight Sparkle were there at the time, but we lost contact with them a few days ago, near the public library. Colonel Thompson was also not equipped with his armor while there, so we can’t be very sure of his condition at this point.”

***

A week later, back in Manehattan, Twilight Sparkle was sitting at desk twelve organizing the evacuation. She’d already taken care of Wall’s marefriend and made sure she would be evacuated during the primary phase.

Mark had just left the room when she felt an odd feeling in her chest; she felt as though her heart dropped. At first she chalked it up to the energy drink she’d had. Then she realized that wasn’t it. She was quickly consumed with trying to figure out what it was, as she began working on autopilot.

She continued working as her mind tried to diagnose what had just happened. An hour later her mind had narrowed it down to two possibilities. There was something about Mark that directly had an effect on her body functioning, or something about him had an effect on her emotions, which in turn affected the balance of chemicals in her bloodstream.

Twilight left it at that, and resumed focusing on her work. If she could help get more civilians out, she should focus on doing that.

***

Mark walked into the courtyard and heard the sounds of battle in the distance; automatic weapons firing, explosions, the screams of horror and pain. It was raining hard, but he didn’t bother to roll down his sleeves or even find something to shield at least part of him from the downpour.

He walked to a group of soldiers and civilians, the latter likely the VIPs. The soldiers, ponies and humans alike, looked tired. They weren’t as covered in blood and filth as him, but they were definitely worn ragged.

A pegasus pony with a singed tail, a blood-spattered mane and a fresh scar stretching across his jawline, wielding a Hoofler and Kob MP5N. A human with no armor, sleeves rolled up, a patrol cap and a bandana covering his face in the paradox of hot air and cold rain, and using a standard MA37. An earth pony wearing a bullet belt and hefting a Foalbrique Nationale M249, his left foreleg wrapped in a bandage and his face blank. Another human, this one a UNSC Army medic with streaks of blood staining the woodland camouflage sleeves of his uniform top, using an MA37 as well. A unicorn pony with a Colt M4A1 and a standard, if filthy, Royal Equestrian Army uniform sans the helmet.

As for the civilians, they were all griffon males from what Mark could tell. As big as an Elite and with all the strength that came with such bulk. If these were just the diplomats, he hoped to fight alongside their soldiers soon.

One of the ponies’ ears began to rotate toward a sound in the distance, which Mark soon perceived as well. It was one of the sounds every UNSC soldier learned if they didn’t want to die.

“Banshees!” He bellowed. “You two!” Mark pointed at the eyepatch pony and the unarmored human. “Get the VIPs into a shelter; the rest of you are on me!”

They rushed to the nearest fortification, where a UNSC soldier was manning an M247H heavy machinegun and firing at the incoming aircraft. The lone gunner took down two of the seven Banshees before one of their plasma bolts hit him directly in the face, vaporizing his blood to such a degree that it entered a highly energetic gaseous state and burst his skull open from the pressure.

Mark rushed to the gun, and the Banshee flew overhead. He began tugging at the turret, trying to rip it off its hinges. Meanwhile, the sky was alight with tracers as the defenders in his section of the perimeter fired at the attacking aircraft. On the third pull, the turret came off its hinges, and its electronics linked to Mark’s HUD.

He brought the weapon to bear and rotated to face the attacking aircraft. He mashed down on the trigger, and unleashed a storm of 12.7x99mm High Velocity-Explosive rounds against one of the targets. It proved too much for the aircraft to bear, and it exploded thirty meters above the ground. He repeated the process with two more, plucking them out of the sky.

One of the three remaining Banshees began firing at him, and Mark dropped the weapon and fled. He moved to a concrete wall and hid. He saw his pony ally sling his M4A1, produce an FIM-92 Stinger missile launcher, and fire it at one of the Banshees. The three kilogram HE annular blast fragmentation warhead detonated upon hitting the left wing of the aircraft that had attacked Mark, destroying the whole aircraft easily.

As Mark caught his breath, the pony discarded the launcher tube, and put a new one into place, before repeating with the next Banshee. Combined fire from UNSC and REA soldiers took down the last attacker. Mark patted the pony who had taken down two Banshees on the back. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

They regrouped in time for their Pelican to arrive. The two soldiers who’d escorted the VIPs into the shelter earlier covered the rear as they got in following the VIPs. After the whole group was aboard the rear doors closed and the engines roared. It was obvious to Mark and the two UNSC soldiers with him that neither the ponies nor griffons with them had ever ridden in a Pelican dropship.

The flight was brief, only a few minutes to the pier. Once they arrived, the dropship hovered over land and opened the rear doors. The humans piled out, followed by the ponies, and then the griffons. The dropship flew back into the crumbling maze of buildings, quickly disappearing.

The boat they were to use was indicated on the humans’ HUDs, and they led the group to it. Once they were aboard, the boat’s captain started the engine and his first mate untied them from the dock.

Mark noticed that the first mate, a griffon, spent an inordinate amount of time watching the horizon. That was the job of Mark and the other soldiers, and he knew the first mate knew that. Having been trained in counter-insurgency, he knew the signs of a terrorist waiting for something, and the first mate set off bells.

A pair of Mamba Falcons appeared on the horizon, and were shot down by REAF F-35As almost as quickly as they came into view; faster than the escorts could draw their weapons.

The moment he saw the first mate pound his talon on the side of the boat, Mark made him as a traitor, likely a sell-out to the CMs. Unfortunately, if he confronted him with the VIPs aboard, he’d endanger their lives. He was forced to play the waiting game.

They made the rendezvous with the submarine after an hour of travel. The vessel surfaced and opened a large hatch, which revealed a squad of griffon soldiers to help the diplomats in. After the sub dove, the captain brought the boat around and headed back to the harbor, all ahead full.

Once they were within a kilometer of land another hour later, Mark walked to confront the angry-looking griffon, and was tackled overboard by him. The boat continued onwards obliviously as Banshees swooped in and fired their fuel rod cannons at the craft. The boat exploded, killing all occupants.

Now it was just Mark and the griffon trying to get to shore. After several minutes of swimming and dunking, they reached land and began to fight.

The griffon, surprisingly quick despite the cold water and soaking feathers and fur, leapt behind Mark and ripped his DMR from the magnetic strip on the back of his armor, then clubbed him with it. Mark rolled sideways and jumped to his feet, ducking to dodge a horizontal swing. He grabbed the rifle and yanked it from the griffon’s talons, and was about to fire when the griffon knocked it from his hands and sent it flying dozens of meters away.

There was no time to draw his pistol now, so Mark tried to keep on the offensive. He closed with the griffon and pummeled him with his fists, expecting the front half to have the hollow bones of a bird and thus shatter easily under his strength. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t; griffons had solid, durable bones suited for combat. He injured the creature nonetheless, staggering it backwards before returning for a lunge.

The griffon tackled Mark to the ground, pulled his armor off without damaging it, then began punching him with everything he had. While griffon bones were tough, a SPARTAN’s bones were practically unbreakable due to their carbide ceramic ossification enhancements. Still, Mark felt every blow, taking hits to his chest and face.

Mark hit the griffon with a left hook, and then kicked him off with both feet, sending him a few meters away. He scrambled to put some distance between him and his opponent, and failed. The griffon pounced and slashed Mark’s back, leaving deep, bloody wounds. Mark elbowed his attacker, delivered a chop to his stomach, then a hammer blow with his fist to the same location. The hybrid rolled off of him, and Mark jumped onto him.

Now on top, he pummeled the griffon’s face and neck. He tried to get the SPARTAN off of him, slashing at Mark’s face, arms and chest. Mark took several of the slashes and kept going.

He choked the hybrid as hard as he could, and the griffon choked him back. It became a struggle to draw breath and stay conscious. Mark could feel his prey weakening, even as he saw black spots in his own vision and weakened himself.

The bird finally passed out, his talons releasing their grip on Mark’s throat. Aware that the bird could still survive, he choked him some more, until unconsciousness gave way to death.

Mark stood up, then put his forcefully removed armor back on and retrieved his rifle. Activating his radio, he called for exfil on the appropriate channel.

“This is SPARTAN A-217, requesting evac. Home in on my signal,” He panted.

“Copy, locked on signal. Sensors read you’re on your own, please confirm.”

“Affirmative, it’s just me.”

“Copy, Falcon inbound. ETA four minutes.”

Mark got onboard the Falcon when it arrived, and was silent as the gunners took potshots at Covenant soldiers while en route to the base. When he arrived at the station, he jumped five meters from the aircraft to the ground, stumbled a bit, and walked inside.

He proceeded to Brigadier Clay’s office, and entered with a salute. He stood at attention, ignoring the extreme pain and fatigue he was experiencing.

“Sir, extraction was successful. However, a traitor was among the crew on the boat, and we entered a protracted battle. The subject tackled me overboard, and before the boat could come back for us a flight of Banshees destroyed the boat. We swam for shore and fought hand-to-hand without weaponry or armor.”

The brigadier just stared at him, horrified. “Princess fucking Luna…”

“Sir?”

“Shit Thompson, I’m surprised you’re still alive after taking on a griffon without any weapons or armor, much less awake and ignoring the pain. Go get yourself some treatment. There’s an infirmary through the evacuation organization area. You know where that is?”

“Yes sir, I know where it is, but I’m fine. I know how to block out pain, I can still fight, and I’ll survive. I don’t even have any damage to my bones.”

“Thompson, you look at least four times worse than last time I saw you, and I was tempted to order you to get medical attention then too. Now I am ordering you; get yourself fixed up ASAP!”

Mark saluted again and headed to the medical station Clay had told him of.

***

Twilight had long since written off the earlier incident as a regular biological glitch, and continued working. With her help, the organizers were faster and more efficient with their work and productivity increased dramatically.

She stopped for a few minutes to eat a candy bar and start on a new energy drink. When she saw Mark walk, or rather stagger through, her magic stopped, her snack fell to the floor, her ears bent downwards and her jaw fell open. Once again her heart dropped, although this time it felt like it had dropped to her stomach and her blood had frozen over.

“Hey Twi. Brigadier Clay thinks I need medical treatment and ordered me to get some at the med station in the next room.”

She followed Mark into the infirmary, still horrified at what his injuries. She saw him remove his armor and lay his weapons down, and when his top and undershirt came off she almost fainted.

Mark had already sustained a huge amount of punishment before their arrival here, and several of the bruises were only partially healed, to say nothing of the new ones. He had slashes on his arms and torso, with three deep cuts in his back. Bruises covered a third of the skin she could see, and he was bleeding from a fresh horizontal cut an inch above his left eye.

A medic began applying biofoam to his cuts, sanitizing and sealing them. Finally, with the combination of intense pain and extreme fatigue, Mark fell to his knees. Even then, it was only a few seconds before he stood back up when the pain numbing effect of the treatment kicked in.

Mark sat down on one of the open beds and reached to put on his brown undershirt when a field of purple magic enveloped him and forcefully laid him down. “That’s not necessary, Twi,” He said through gritted teeth, struggling to break the field, and almost succeeding.

“The fuck it isn’t!” Twilight burst out. She realized what she had just said and covered her mouth with her left forehoof and lowered her ears even further. She’d never in her life gone any closer to cursing before than the minced oaths “heck” and “hay”, yet she had just said one of the foulest swears in the pony language; the only other time she'd ever sworn was when she was forced to play Russian Roulette days ago.

Mark realized her shock at having sworn, and stopped struggling. She in turn released the field.

“I’m fine now. Just give me a few stims to pep me up and I’ll be good as new.” He knew he was lying. At this level of fatigue, stimulants would only serve to delay him passing out altogether. Almost all of the sparse sleep he’d gotten during his time in Manehattan had been on thinly carpeted floors and thin beds, which meant that most of his rest had been mental rather than physical. Even with all of his mental and physical conditioning, he was looking at a short time-span in which he could keep fighting like this.

“Are you just going to keep pushing yourself until you die!?” Twilight demanded, hot air coming from her nostrils.

Mark just stared at the ceiling. “In a word, yes.”

“What about your friends or the people and ponies that need you right now?”

Mark sighed. “I’m not going to bullshit you Twi, this is easily the worst state I’ve ever been in my entire thirty-six-and-a-half year life. But I know my limits and I don’t plan on ignoring them; two more days of this shit and I’ll just give out, but with stims I can stretch it out to three days, which should be enough to finish the fight.” He continued staring at the ceiling.

Twilight sat in silence for several minutes, just staring at him. Eventually she spoke up, even if her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Why keep fighting?” She asked softly.

“I told you why, remember? Because somebody else would screw up or break under the pressure… Because what I do is important… ” Mark closed his eyes.

He sighed, but then looked at Twilight and smiled. “I want to thank you, for everything.” Mark looked at the clock, to see it was only 9 AM. “When does the primary evac start?”

“Ten hours.”

“Then I’ll sleep for eight.” He fell asleep almost immediately.

***

At 5 PM Mark awoke in his bed, his neural implants waking him. When he rubbed his eyes, he saw a waypoint in the courtyard. He got dressed, grabbed his weapons and moved out to the courtyard. It was still raining hard, and the men looked as weary as ever. Mark was far from rejuvenated himself, having had nasty dreams for the duration of his sleep, but eight hours of sleep on what seemed to be the most comfortable bed in Manehattan worked wonders on him physically.

A Pelican was waiting for him. When he approached it, the rear door opened to reveal the most welcome surprise of his life thus far. He stepped in and the doors shut, but the dropship didn’t take off. A few minutes later, they opened again.

Out stepped Mark, clad in his MJOLNIR armor. He’d swapped his M6G for an M319 IGL and kept his DMR. As the soldiers saw him, they cheered. The SPARTAN had just boosted morale by donning his armor.

He strolled through the courtyard, into the station, and entered Brigadier Clay’s office. He saw the SPARTANs of Dagger team already there, as well as Twilight Sparkle.

“And just who the fuck are you?” Brigadier Clay asked, trying to see through the polarized blue visor of his JFO helmet.

“Lieutenant Colonel Mark Thompson, sir, eight hours of sleep and one suit of armor later.”

“Well Colonel, we were just about to start a vid conference with Princess Celestia and your Admiral Hunt,” Clay responded.

The screens switched from a display of the theater to loading screens, and then real-time images of Celestia and Hunt. All military personnel in the room snapped to a salute, while Twilight bowed.

“At ease,” Hunt said.

“As you were,” Celestia said at the same time.

“The primary evacuation will begin in under two hours. We expect to get seventy percent of the civilians here out with the trains. Following that, we will hold this station until UNSC Albatross heavy dropships and Pelicans with expanded bays can airlift the remaining civilians and wounded out. The joint UNSC-REAF no-fly zone will be lifted for the duration of the secondary evacuation. All forces not evacuated after the secondary evac will be transferred to UNSC command. Alpha and Delta companies will accompany the outbound trains, and Lieutenant Rosenkov will provide additional escort, to help defend against any potential Covenant attack. Miss Sparkle will also be accompanying the outbound trains, as will Lieutenant Wall and Warrant Officer Carpenter. The four of them will all be on the same train in the same car.”

Lieutenant Svetlana Rosenkova nodded and checked her weapons before heading to the trains. Her silver-colored armor was highlighted with a streak of red down each arm, one down the left side of her torso and on the sides of her Air Assault helmet. Twilight followed her out of the room.

“Hey! Take care, alright?” Mark shouted. Svetlana’s acknowledgement light winked green on his visor and Twilight smiled at him.

“Will Twilight be alright?” Princess Celestia asked, clearly concerned for her protégé.

“Ma’am, I can personally vouch for the soldiers accompanying her; they’ll die before anything happens to her, and I don’t see that happening either,” Mark consoled her.

“I trust your judgment, Colonel. Now, I’m concerned about the Covenant presence in the city. Are the preparations complete for your plan?”

“If you’re referring to the plan to hijack the Forerunner structure, then the answer is ‘no, not yet’,” Hunt answered. “The UNSC Andraste won’t be in position until around midnight.”

“I don’t believe we have that much time, Admiral,” Celestia said with a sense of urgency that was lost on nobody. “If the Covenant aren’t eliminated by midnight, I’ll be forced to take extreme measures.”

Princess Celestia disconnected ominously. Admiral Hunt took that as his cue and disconnected as well.

Later, just before 7 PM, as the trains were still being loaded, the Covenant began pounding Grand Canteral, sending the soldiers stationed there into full alert. Mark, Alexander and Lukas hustled from the lower levels to the main hall.

“We need another twenty minutes for a full evac! Hold the line!” Clay barked over the PA system.

Mark’s team and half a platoon of allied forces held back the attackers in the main hall without major incident for fifteen minutes, pulverizing the intruding Covenant under their combined fire and painting the floor with blue and purple blood.

“This is Bravo one, Charlie is down! Repeat, Charlie company is gone! A fucking Locust busted through their line and it’s headed straight for the main hall!”

“Here it comes!”

The quadrupedal mech burst through a large window and began firing its cannon at the infantry inside. Most of the defenders were hit in the first blast and charred black, reduced to withered husks by the intense heat of the Locust’s beam.

Mark switched to his grenade launcher and Lukas switched to his sniper rifle. All remaining forces in the room began chucking grenades at the monstrous machine, hoping to damage its legs. It was fruitless, as the “feet” were well-armored, but it gave Mark an idea.

“Archer! I’m gonna use my GL to hit the knee on the left foreleg with an EMP blast! That’ll seize it up, and then you put some fucking fire on that joint!”

Captain Lukas Farber flashed a green acknowledgement light. Mark popped from cover and fired a grenade on the EMP setting, detonating it right next to the knee. The Locust was EMP hardened to the point where even the relatively strong EMP from a 40mm grenade wouldn’t freeze it up, even if it would a Wraith. But the EMP jammed the mechanical parts of the joint, essentially halting the vehicle’s movement.

Lukas popped from cover and emptied his magazine into the target area, the bullets forming a neat line across the joint and critically damaging it. When the leg moved again, the Locust’s weight was placed on it and it shattered, toppling the machine.

Mark closed with the vehicle while reloading his grenade launcher. He holstered it and activated his wrist-mounted energy sword, cutting the cockpit open. An Elite Ultra was inside, and promptly had twin prongs of plasma thrust into its skull, superheating the fluids inside of it and popping in open.

Mark leapt off of the wreckage, deactivated his blade, and drew his DMR.

“All units, primary evacuation is complete. Be advised, this area is too hot for the birds to land. Proceed to Trots Square for the secondary evac.”

Several Warthogs towing passenger trailers burst into the hall. Mark got on the rear gauss cannon of one, while Lukas grabbed the driver’s seat and Alexander took a seat on the trailer and a trooper took shotgun. Mark used the cannon to blast an opening in the wall big enough to drive through.

“Go man, go!” Mark yelled. Lukas obliged and drove the ‘Hog through, exiting onto the street. They drove for a hundred meters before a civilian flagged them down.

“Hey wait! Hold on, stop!” A male voice yelled, prompting the vehicle to halt. The owner of the voice indicated his wife was stuck under rubble.

“Just hold on, I’ll be right back!” The trooper yelled.

“Come on man, the building’s coming down!” Mark yelled back.

“Just wait, she’s right here!” Mark recognized the male who’d called for help and the female trapped under the debris. They were Scootaloo’s parents, he’d seen them earlier in the civilian communications room talking to their daughter.

“Let’s go man, hurry!” Mark shouted.

The building, and one next to it, began to collapse.

“Come on man, we’ve gotta go!” Alexander piped in.

“Move it, Archer!” Mark shouted. The Warthog lurched forward, and more civilians emerged from the tunnel, and the trooper freed the mare from under the rubble.

“No wait, hold on, they’re coming!” The pegasus stallion pleaded.

“The building’s dropping!” Lukas yelled. The whole section of the building the civilians were emerging from was crumbling upon itself. Screaming drowned out everything else as chunks of masonry crushed entire families.

“Hold on, please!”

“Go now or we’re all fucking dead!” Mark ordered. Lukas followed his order and floored the gas pedal.

“The fuck are you doing!? Stop the ‘Hog!” The trooper who’d tried to rescue the civilians bellowed. The whole section of Grand Canteral collapsed, crushing dozens of families.

“Son of a bitch!” Alexander swore.

A Banshee swooped down and fired its plasma cannons at Mark’s vehicle, severing the cable holding the trailer to the ‘Hog. Alexander sprinted after the vehicle, and Lukas slowed down so he could get in. Mark hit the Banshee with a single gauss round, obliterating it.

They formed up with a convoy headed to Trots Square, and were almost there when a Banshee hit the vehicle in front of them, separating them from the convoy. Lukas navigated the cramped streets as best he could, but when they arrived at Trots Square, the last of the dropships were taking off.

Deleted Scene: Singing in the Streets

"Start spreadin' the news," Mark sang to himself.

"I'm leavin' today," Twilight joined in, smiling.

“I want to be a part of it,” Wall sang.

“New Yoke, New Yoke,” Helia continued.

One by one, inhabitants of the city and soldiers alike joined in.

“These vagabond shoes,” A human male joined.

“Are longing to stray,” A griffon female added.

“Right through the very heart of it,” A firestallion chimed in.

“New Yoke, New Yoke,” Carpenter continued.

“I wanna wake up in a city that doesn’t sleep,” Alexander sang.

“And find I’m king of the hill,” Mark continued.

“Top of the heap,” Twilight sang.

“These little town blues,” Lukas jumped in.

“Are melting away,” Svetlana added.

“I’ll make a brand new start of it,” Mark resumed.

“In ol’ New Yoke!” The whole street seemed to sing.

“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere!” Mark was smiling more than he thought was possible, especially considering he was still covered in bruises and cuts.

“It’s up to you, New Yoke, New Yoke!” The street sang.

“New Yoke, New Yoke,” Twilight chirped.

“I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps
And find I'm A-number-one, top of the list,
King of the hill, A-number-one!” The group sang.

“These little town blues are melting away.
I'm gonna make a brand new start of it in old New Yoke!
A-a-a-nd if I can make it there, I'm gonna make it anywhere
It's up to you, New Yoke, New Yo-o-o-o-ke!” The whole city seemed to be singing now.

“New Yo-o-o-o-o-o-oke!” Mark finished.

Wake Up, John

Author's Note

Thanks for bearing through with this story. I know it's not that good, so I won't blame you if you don't read any potential sequels I might make. Granted, I'd probably be a little hurt, but I've got low expectations for the world, which is kinda why I'm so upbeat.

Anyway, I've got a story brewing on FanFiction.net. 2 actually. One's a Metroid-Fallout crossover, which I have the first chapter of in one of my blogs, and it's pretty good. I've got the first four chapters posted on my FanFiction account, which is linked on my userpage.

The other one's an extremely ambitious mega-crossover. No further details are currently available.

Anyway, read some of my other stories and leave some comments.