Chapter 1: "You know the music. Time to dance."

Tony found it odd that he was actually staring his opponent in the eye without craning his neck. Most Elites simply towered over the average human. However, at just under two meters tall, Tony's foe was practically diminutive. Still, the Elite wore the jet-black armor of a spec-ops soldier, signifying just how dangerous he truly was.

The two had been staring at each other for thirty seconds, sizing each other up before making their move. Neither human nor sangheili were in a hurry. They could take their time.

Even so, the stalemate would have to be broken eventually.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tony made his move. "All in," he said, pushing his pile of chips towards the center of the table.

"Call," the Elite rumbled without any hesitation. He could afford to. His chip stack was much bigger. Both flipped over their cards, revealing an Ace and King off-suit for Tony, and pocket Twos for the Elite.

"Damn it!" Tony shouted. A chorus of groans from three of his squad mates answered him. The Elite had already cleaned them out. He was their last hope. "Ok," he said, taking a calming breath. "I still have the turn and river. I can still win this."

"Not likely, human," the Elite chuckled. He was right, too. The flop had a Jack and Ten, meaning Tony only needed a Queen to win. But, the third card was another Two, giving the Elite three of a kind.

Off in the corner, the squad's C.O. was busy re-reading the mission briefing, but he still couldn't help but laugh at the antics around the poker table. It amazed him that they appeared to be on friendly terms with someone they wouldn't have hesitated to kill a few years ago.

***

One week ago.
Aboard UNSC Cape Horn, in orbit of Crassus.

Four men and one woman walked proudly down the halls of the aging Halcyon class cruiser. Crewmen promptly got out of their way as the squad headed for the ship's conference room. They were Angel Squad, the best fighters ever seen amongst the ranks of ODSTs.

This was their first time aboard the Cape Horn, but the crew still knew better than to fuck with them.

Leading the squad was their leader, Captain George McCoy. Standing just shy of seven feet tall, he set a quick pace for his squad. His unkempt black hair was only an inch thick, and his eyes were a bright blue. He, along with everyone in his his squad, was wearing a simple gray shirt and black pants.

Walking behind George was Sergeant Tony DiNardo, the squad's sniper and resident movie geek. He was six and a half feet tall, and carried himself with a measure of confidence that was almost overbearing. Like the Captain, his hair was black, but an inch longer and styled with excessive amounts of gel.

Behind him, Sergei Popov, the third man in the squad and their heavy weapons specialist towered over DiNardo. At seven foot three and with muscles on his muscles, Sergei was sometimes mistaken for a SPARTAN II. Unlike the other two, his hair was blonde, and his eyes were a piercing shade of green. He was always smiling and laughing gregariously, even under the most dire of circumstances.

Next in line was Frank Grimes, the team's demolitionist. Being the only black man in the squad, he really stood out. Unlike the others, his head was shaved (though he wore a black ski-cap when not wearing his armor), and his eyes were brown. His face was marred by nasty pitting and scarring, remnants of a plasma round that grazed his face almost a decade ago.

Bringing up the rear was Samantha Sadi, or Sam as she preferred. She had red hair, hazel eyes, and a cute button nose. At five foot nothing, she was easily the smallest member of the group. However, she was also the fastest, and an expert in hand-to-hand combat, having finished first place in several martial arts competitions against larger opponents. It was even rumored that she had killed a Brute in hand-to-hand combat once, though she always said that she got lucky.

The door to the conference room slid open automatically, allowing Angel Squad to enter. The room was large for a ship, seating twenty people at a time. Along the near wall was a small podium with a holo-emitter built in. On the back wall, however, was a large window, allowing a fantastic view of the planet below.

Crassus. Once a little known backwater colony, the desert planet had since become a symbol for many. The seven-day siege of the planet's only city was the first time humans and sangheili fought side by side against the Brutes. To this day, many hold the sangheili heroes of the siege in the same high regard as Captain Keyes and Sergeant Johnson.

Now the planet was all but abandoned.

Taking his eyes off the window, George led his squad to the front row of seats. They sat down and awaited the briefing officer.

It wasn't a long wait. Less than a minute after being seated, the door hissed open again and a woman walked in. Dressed in civilian clothing, she was a few inches taller than Sam, minus the high heels she wore, and wore her blonde hair in a tight bun. She carried a datapad in the crook of her right arm, which she set down on the podium as she approached.

"Lady and gentlemen," she said. "I am Doctor Helen Montgomery, Office of Naval Intelligence. I'm sure you're all wondering why we called you out to the ass end of the galaxy.

"Approximately three months ago, the UNSC sent an exploration vessel to the previously uncharted Epsilon Persei system along the border of human and sangheili space," she continued. "There, we found that the system had six planets, three terrestrial and three gas giants."

"Ma'am," George interrupted. "I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with us?"

"I'm getting to that, Captain," Helen replied. "As I was saying, after a further survey, it was discovered that the third planet in the system not only had a typical nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, temperature ranges comparable to Earth, and liquid water, but also inhabited by a sentient, pre-space flight civilization. Now, even under normal circumstances this would be a monumental discovery. However, as we later found out, there was something oddly familiar about this new species."

Dr. Montgomery tapped a few commands into her pad, and the podium's holo-emitter responded almost instantaneously with a picture instantly familiar to any human with a passing knowledge of mythology. A sharp intake of breath was heard from all but one of the ODSTs, the only exception being what sounded like a delighted squeal from Sam.

"Is that a fucking unicorn?" Tony asked tactfully. Indeed it was. With four legs, four hooves, big eyes, and a stubby horn; the alien was unmistakable. Strangely, its coat was a vibrant pink and its mane was lime-green. Its flank had a marking that looked like a golden caduceus.

"How observant of you, Sergeant," Helen retorted with a hint of mirth. "Yes, the UNSC has found incontrovertible evidence that unicorns exist. Your taxpayer credits at work, people." Her joke was met with a round of polite laughter. "However, that was not the only sentient species we found."

The unicorn faded away, and was replaced by what was unmistakably a pegasus. This equine had a sky-blue coat and a red mane. It too had a marking on its flank, this one being a pair of crossed lightning bolts. That image was soon replaced with what looked like a brown coated, tan maned regular equine. Well, regular despite the rounded, almost humanoid head and flank marking of three bullets in a stripper-clip.

Next up was an image of a regal-looking winged unicorn. It appeared to be about twice the size of the other ponies, and its coat was a stunning lavender with a violet mane. Unlike the other equines, this one didn't have a flank marking.

"Now, you're probably thinking that this planet is dominated entirely by equines, but you'd be wrong." The winged unicorn's image winked out, and was replaced by an honest to god griffon. Its eagle head and wings were white, and its coat was a mottled yellow. Unlike the others, this life-form wore armor over its torso and cradled a firearm of alien design in its claws.

"How did we get these pictures?" George asked.

"A very good question," Helen replied. "After making orbit, the exploration ship Mother of Invention launched several unmanned survey drones. These drones have active camouflage, and made it to the lower atmosphere undetected. There, the drones began their survey; taking air samples, radar scans, and pictures." The holo-emitter showed several pictures in quick succession. All of the images had the same theme; cityscapes, industrial centers, residencial districts, all signs of a fairly advanced species.

All of which were blasted to hell and back.

"Man, looks like that place was tag teamed by giant fuckbots," Frank blurted out, earning a reproaching look from George.

"An astute observation, Specialist," Helen said. "Atmospheric samples indicate that the planet, Epsilon Persei Three, has much higher than average levels of background radiation than other planets capable of supporting human life, although they are still within tolerable ranges. Taking that into account along with the images, ONI's science division has come to the conclusion that this planet had experienced a full-scale nuclear war sometime in the past three centuries." Surprised murmurs answered Helen as the Marines discussed that bit of news. She noted with amazement just how loud five people talking amongst themselves could be.

The conversation lasted an entire minute before McCoy held his hand up for silence. "So, what's our stake in this, Doctor? Why call us?"

"Simple, Captain," Helen replied. "Last week, the Mother of Invention dispatched a science team to the surface to collect soil, flora, and fauna samples. The surface team set up camp in an area that was off the beaten path, and have been calling in to their ship on the hour every hour since... until two days ago. They've gone dark, Captain.

"You have two missions. First, you will drop in near the science team's camp and investigate their disappearance. If it turns out they're perfectly alright, you will proceed to your second mission. If not, you are to figure out exactly what happened to them.

"Your second mission is a little more... complicated." she continued. "After discovering the fate of the science team, you are to make First Contact with the local population." Helen's declaration was met with surprised silence, so she pressed on. "If the science team still lives, they are to aid you in this task. If they are captured, you are to either negotiate for their release, or break them out yourself if necessary. Contact me before making that decision, however."

"What if they're dead?" Sergei cautiously asked. "Do we avenge them?"

Helen shook her head. "If you have confirmed their deaths, then you are to contact me for further orders," she replied sternly. "Now, I'm sure you have questions. Please, ask away."

***

A klaxon alarm went off before the River could be played, and the game was interrupted by the motherly voice of the ship's on-board AI. "Attention all personnel, we are now entering orbit of Epsilon Persei Three. Angel Squad, gear up and head to your pods."

"You heard the lady," George shouted. "Let's move it!"

Three of the Marines around the card table were up and moving before their Captain even spoke, and the sangheili only lingered for a moment. Tony, on the other hand, hesitated for a bit longer, reaching out for the next card in the deck. He pulled back at the last second, leaving the last card of the game a mystery.

He ran out the door, almost plowing into both the Elite and his Captain in the process. He gave an apologetic wave of his hand before speeding off after the rest of the squad. George could only laugh quietly.

"So, Vren, I hope everyone's treating you alright."

Vren Kilkarai nodded politely. "I have met less hostility since our first encounter. It probably helps that I am from the same clan as a hero."

Rukth Kilkar, one of Vren's distant relatives, and hero of the Battle of Crassus. For seven long days, while the city of Horizon burned, while others fought and toiled in the streets against the brutality of the Jiralhanae, Rukth held the north wall of the city, alongside a handful of Elites and Militiamen. Under constant enemy attack, they held the line. They fought to the last man, and yet for seven long days, the north wall never fell.

"It helps," George admitted as they entered the armory. The rest of the squad was in the process of gearing up, so George wasted no time in slipping into a black bodysuit before attaching pieces of his armor.

Vren, who was in the habit of wearing his armor everywhere he went, merely slipped a pair of plasma swords onto his belt. He eyed a suppressed M7 submachine gun for a moment before grabbing it and attaching it to his backplate, along with a few extra magazines for good measure.

"I thought you weren't allowed to use human weapons," Frank inquired, earning a sharp bark of laughter from the Elite.

"Tradition dictates that I should shun your weapons, yes," he said. "Prudence, however, dictates that what the Kaidon does not know will not hurt him."

A few of the Marines snickered. George just shook his head, smiling.

***

"Why us?" asked George. "I always thought that First Contact was a diplomat's job."

"Because this planet is very dangerous, Captain," Helen stated bluntly. "Some of the indigenous wildlife would rip a Hunter limb from limb. Hell, while the 'ponies' may look all cute and cuddly, some of them are more vicious than the Brutes. We have footage of raiders attacking a small settlement and killing and raping everything that moves... and a few things that didn't.

"That being said, however, Earth is preparing a diplomatic team for more formal contact with whoever's in charge. They just want you to go in first to get a lay of the land. Find out who's who and what's what. Think of it as recon in force."

Tony raised his hand. "Follow up question. Why just us? Why not send an entire Marine company?"

"Because we don't want to look like 'the conquering invaders', as ONI's new director put it. He wants to keep our footprint as light as possible until the diplomats meet with the leadership. Now, if you get into trouble before then, you will have full support from the Cape Horn's air wing, and the ship's entire Marine detachment will be on standby should they be necessary.

"And, if you do run into something really bad like, heaven forbid, the Flood, we'll have an entire fleet here within twenty-four hours.

"Also... you won't exactly be going in alone." Helen's features tensed. She knew the next bit of news wouldn't go over well. "You will have a sangheili Spec-Ops Commander attached to your unit for this-" She didn't get any further. The Helljumpers, as predicted, erupted.

"What the hell?"

"We don't need no hingehead!"

"Which dumbass thought this would be a good idea?"

Helen let the discourse run for a few moments before letting out a sharp whistle, a trick she'd perfected for just such an occasion. The Marines quieted down almost instantly, allowing her to continue. "I know this is upsetting, but this order comes from both the UEG President and Lord Hood himself. After the utter disaster that was Kilo Five, they both want to play nice with Sangheilios. Epsilon Persei is only an hour's jump away from a sangheili colony world, so they have a vested interest in what we are doing with that world.

"Now, that being said, the Arbiter originally wanted to send a carrier, but Hood talked him down." Helen paused for a moment and looked every soldier directly in the eye. "Now, I don't expect you to like our guest, but I do expect you to tolerate him. Will that be a problem?"

For a moment, no answer was forthcoming, and Helen resigned herself to send a request for another squad. However, to her surprise, the Captain nodded. "I guess we could show the Elites how it's done." The others found themselves laughing in heartfelt bemusement at their Captain's quip.

Helen just smiled. "Fantastic. Now, let it not be said that ONI doesn't reward the worker bees. You will all be getting a bunch of new toys for this mission. It's all still in the experimental phase, but ready for field testing.

***

Sitting in his pod, George was busy fiddling with one of those toys; a wrist-mounted computer, nicknamed "Gauntlet". It was something that he wished he had back in the war. The computer was compact, lightweight, and loaded with features; such as mission logs, notes, and radio. It merged seamlessly with the next generation of ODST battle armor, managing an impressive sensor suite (thermal, motion, and radiological), as well as monitoring the wearer's health.

Speaking of which, the new armor was a thing of beauty. In appearance, it was no different than standard ODST armor, but the tried and true packaging hid many improvements. The armor was made with a new alloy that increased protection from kinetic weapons by fifty percent and plasma by twenty percent when compared to the old suit. Adding to this and the sensor suite, an electroactive polymer infused undersuit effectively increased the wearer's strength. The increase was nowhere near the levels of MJOLNIR armor, but it did allow the wearer to lift an extra ten to twenty pounds without strain.

Other than the Gauntlet and new armor, the squad had a slew of other, more specialized equipment, and George had a sinking suspicion that he'd need every advantage they offered once he reached planetside.

With a sudden lurch, the ship began moving his pod, along with everyone else's into position. A thirty second timer appeared on his helmet's HUD. As the timer counted down, George mentally prepared himself. With a gut-wrenching shove, George's pod rapidly plummeted to the planet below.

***

"What about language barrier?" asked Sergei in a thick Russian accent. "Will that be problem?"

"Absolutely not," Helen bluntly answered. "We've intercepted multiple radio transmissions, and we have come to the stunning conclusion that, and I quote the lead scientist on this, 'they speak perfect friggin' English'."

"That's impossible!" Sam blurted out. "I mean, the statistical odds of a different race on a different planet developing the same language as us are astronomical!"

"That's what every single AI we've asked said as well, Ms Sadi," Helen answered with a knowing smile. "Fact of the matter is, an alien civilization composed of multiple species that not only resembles several old Earth myths, but also speaks an Earth language, the mysteries of this world are adding up rapidly."

***

Despite undergoing thousands of combat drops, one never got accustomed to how rapidly the pods heat up. At least the new pods weren't in as much danger of burning up during re-entry like the old ones, the internal temperature can easily reach near-lethal levels.

Thankfully, the heat only lasted for a minute, and bled rapidly as the pod entered the lower atmosphere. At three thousand feet, George felt the pod jerk as the drag chute deployed, drastically reducing his speed. He was still falling at a rate that would kill him on impact, but the braking rockets fired at fifty meters, allowing the pod to come to a safe (if rather abrupt) landing.

With a resounding *thump*, the pod impacted the ground. The door beeped once before micro-detonators blew the heavy door off its hinges, sending it flying three meters. After taking a few moments to square his gear away, Captain George McCoy stepped out of his pod and took his first breath of the cool night air of Epsilon Persei Three. He immediately noted the rocky terrain, barren terrain. Save for a few scrub brushes, there were no signs of life in the immediate area.

Being in command, his pod was the first to touch down, as per protocol, but the others would be along shortly, and all of them would be landing within a hundred meters of the Captain. Since the earliest days of the ODSTs and throughout most of the Human-Covenant war, a squad of ODSTs was lucky to land within a kilometer of each other. Now, thanks to improvements in pod design and launch protocols, that was only true with large deployments where they needed the space.

As each pod landed, George couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. None of them had burned up in re-entry or had either their drag chute or braking rockets fail. Such an ignoble death was not unheard of in the ODSTs, and was something only spoken of in hushed tones.

Each pod blasted open in sequence, and their occupants spilled out. George had been worried about how Vren would fair in the pod, what with his different physiology. Thankfully, it seemed that the Elite Swordsman survived the drop no worse for wear.

The Captain waved his men over, and they all gathered around him swiftly. "Alright, we should've landed near the camp. Anyone see it on the way down?"

"I think so," Vren said as he pointed off to the east. "About a kilometer that way. I did not see any activity, but it was dark."

George checked the map on his Gauntlet and confirmed that the camp was, indeed, around where Vren indicated. Nodding to himself, George faced his troops. "Alright, let's get this done. Sam, you're on point. Vren, stay cloaked. We don't wanna spook the civvies."

"And us dropping in from orbit wouldn't?" Frank asked sardonically. "I doubt that they didn't see us. Hell, I've been listening in to a local radio station, and this DJ Pon3 cat says that he saw us all the way from someplace called Manehattan."

George blinked. "Put it on speaker!"

Frank tapped a button on his Gauntlet, and a deep masculine voice emanated from his helmet speakers. "-what were those falling stars that everyone in the Equestrian Wasteland just saw? Starmetal? Alien invaders? Who knows? If you find yourself in the neighborhood between Old and New Appleloosa and feel like taking a peek, be careful. A band of slavers have been spotted in that area that Applejack's Rangers haven't gotten around to yet.

"Now here's Sweetie Belle with 'White Cliffs of Canterlot'."

The speakers were switched off, and everyone looked at each other. George detected an edge of nervousness and he had to step in. "Alright, this changes nothing. So they saw us arrive? Big deal. We were gonna make contact anyways. But our mission just took on a whole new level. That guy just said that there are slavers in the area, so we need to make sure that the science team is alright.

"Let's move it people, double time!" With that order, the squad marched off towards a waypoint George transmitted to their HUDs.

Unbeknownst to the Captain, their insertion was even less stealthy than he thought. By pure happenstance, three pegasi happened to be resting on a nearby cloud when their pods came crashing down. Clad in black, insect-like powered armor, they watched as six aliens set foot on Equestrian soil. They could barely hear the aliens' conversation, but one of them put Dj-Pon3 on the radio, and the Pegasi could hear the report clear as day.

Moments later, one of the aliens disappeared from view, as if using a stealthbuck, while the shortest alien led them northwards. Despite their current mission, the three Enclave troopers decided to follow and investigate the aliens, if only to see what they were up to. They took to the skies and hoped they wouldn't be seen.

"We are being followed," Vren whispered over the COM. "Pegasi, I think they're called. Three of them."

"I see 'em," McCoy replied without missing a step. In truth, he'd been wondering what the white dots (unknown contact) on his motion tracker were. Thankfully, none of his visible squad members had physically reacted. "They armed?"

"Possibly," Vren replied evenly. "I am not sure, but I think those devices on their sides are weapons. Orders?"

George thought for a moment before coming to a decision. "Keep an eye on them but do not engage," he ordered. "They're probably just curious locals who saw us arrive. If they start shooting, though, blast 'em."

"Of course," Vren acknowledged. McCoy knew that the Elite was a good soldier, but he needed time before he'd be truly integrated with the squad. He wouldn't have actually needed to give the order to any of his regular squad members. They fought so well together that an outside observer would think that they had the ability to read each others minds.

Moments later, they spotted the science camp. It was on an elevated, out-of-the-way plot of land and surrounded by a few boulders. At first glance, the camp was deserted. This caused McCoy to pause and signal his troops to halt and draw their weapons. He raised an MA5C assault rifle and scanned the camp, switching his VISR to thermal mode, even though the stars and moon gave off plenty of light to see by. Nothing. The camp was cold.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Tony said. He was carrying his sidearm, since he was a little too close to use his sniper rifle effectively.

"Popov, Grimes, move up," George ordered. The pair advanced cautiously, armed with a light machine gun and shotgun respectively. "Vren, what're our shadows up to?"

"Just watching, Captain," he reported. "They seem to have taken cover behind a low cloud."

McCoy nodded, but kept one eye on his motion tracker. So far there was nothing but his squad and the three pegasi. Everything was quiet. The only noise was the sound of the wind. After a moment, his COM chirped.

"All clear, Captain," Sergei's brusk voice reported. "You're gonna want to see this." McCoy signaled the rest of the squad to advance. Sam's SMG swept side to side as she led the procession, searching for any possible hostiles.

As McCoy entered the camp itself, he noticed at once what Sergei wanted him to see. The place was trashed. Chairs and tables had been upended, consoles smashed, and everything had been shot up. Luckily, there was very little blood, so more than likely the science team was relatively unharmed.

"No sign of the eggheads, sir," Grimes said. "No corpses either. Unless something made them magically disappear, they're probably still alive. Probably those slavers we heard about."

"God I hope not," McCoy sighed. "Alright, Sam, Grimes, see what you can salvage here. Anything we need we take with us. Anything we don't gets torched. Tony, see if any of the computers work. I wanna know if the eggheads had any useful observations. Popov, Vren, I want you two to cover me."

"Cover you, sir?" Sergei asked, surprise audible in his voice.

McCoy nodded and jerked his thumb towards where the Pegasi were hiding. "I'm gonna go say hi."

"Govno," Sergei cursed. "I smell another one of Captain's hair-brained schemes. Like Jericho VII."

"Hey, we survived on Jericho VII!" George snapped. "Just cover me."

Sergei shook his head in exasperation, but obeyed his order. George slipped his rifle onto his back and turned to face the Pegasi's hiding place. "Oy!" he shouted. "Get your asses down here! I wanna talk!" Not exactly the most poignant First Contact message, but what it lacked in style it more than made up for in audacity.

TRAITS

Squad-wide: Forged in Fire- You and your men have fought and bled together through long years of warfare, so much so that you seem to know what the others are thinking in the middle of a firefight. +1 all stats when working as a team

George McCoy: Natural Born Leader- While your combat skills are only above-average at most, you take command with ease, and people find that they'd follow you to hell and back. +10 speech, -5 guns and explosives.

Tony DiNardo: Designated Marksman- You have perfected the skill of waiting for the perfect shot. +10% accuracy, -5% rate of fire

Sergei Ivanovich Popov: Distracting Target- Enemy fire seems to be drawn to you. The only solution is more gun. +15 DT when firing on the enemy, but the enemy more often than not focuses on you.

Frank Grimes: Boom Boom Boom- You are an expert of the art of blowing stuff up. So much so that you find it hard to hold a conversation about anything else. +5 explosives, -5 speech, -1 charisma.

Sam Sadi: Small Package- You are an expert at hand to hand fighting, but most people don't take you seriously due to your size. +15 unarmed, -5 speech, -10 lbs carry weight.

Vren Kilkarai: Swordsman Genes- Thanks to your birthright, you have trained in the way of the blade since you could walk. +5 Melee weapons.

Nontraditional Combatant- Your race shuns the use of certain weapons, but you find that they have certain advantages that shouldn't be overlooked. +10 guns, -20 speech when speaking to other sangheili.

Author's Note

Not gonna do the typical "level up" after each chapter, but I thought I'd give the main characters a few traits at the very least. Maybe a few "quest perks" here and there.

Wanna read more about the Battle of Crassus? Read The Enemy of My Enemy. One of the greatest Halo fics ever.

Also, obligatory thanks to Kkat for creating this wonderful universe.