Halo: The Interlopers

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.”