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.