Halo: The Interlopers

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.