The Spartan

The flash of lightning overhead was a grim reminder that this land had become inhospitable beyond recovery. If that wasn't enough for you then there was the ominous green glow of the barren and pockmarked landscape dotted by debris and broken buildings. Yes, I speak of a veritable wasteland in which the weak either die or become slaves, and the strong either die defending the weak or become corrupted. It is rare to see anything but.

Yet in this tale I have the rare opportunity to prove my words wrong… this is a tale of a creature I saw only once, and it was this creature who saved a weak young filly and taught her to be strong, and proved that the strong never die, they just go missing in action.

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Gunfire rung out from the dark windows of the blasted out bar. My father, a unicorn chocolate brown in color loaded his lever action rifle. Our trade caravan had been assaulted by raiders before, but from what my mother had said before our assailants blew her head open these were no raiders, but a mercenary group. My brother all but a foal was cradled in my hoof, our guards were either dead or fighting with injuries that would prove later to be fatal.

This was to be our end.

“Garment, take your brother and head to the memorial, see if they can send their malitia to help us out!” My father shouted to me as he took his shot and one window fell silent.

“Daddy?” I replied as I attempted to get out of cover, only for bullets to strike just ahead of me.

“Just go and don’t look back!” He shouted as he went to take another shot, only for his rifle to fall and splash into the mud below.

Thunder clapped, my brother began to cry, our tears mixed with the rain, my father laid slain upon the muddy road. The guards began to fall, one by one, until only Sharpshot was left, a guard a little older than I.

She looked at me, then to my father, and back again. She mouthed the words, run before she placed her helmet back on and her fully power armored body turned the corner and she opened fire with her laser gatling gun. I got up to run but stopped halfway when shots came from behind her and she was forced to go back into cover. I did managed to get into the same small alcove in the ruined office building as her, which afforded me a look at her damaged armor.

Blood was leaking from several holes in the armors hide, and one of her visor lenses were broken, showing her pained blue eyes.

“I just want you to know, I’ve always thought you you and your family as my own family kid, I am sorry it ends like this.” She told me as she hugged me close.

THOOM.

BAM.

We both shot our vision to a building that had been standing a moment before as it just fell. Crumbling down to nothing but dust. Several heavy rounds rang out and we could hear the bodies of our assailants fall with heavy thumps.

“The hell?” One merc shouted before a sickening squishy crunch was heard and another body fell to the mud.

“Who… is… next…?” A gravely, deep, and quiet voice asked as heavy twin footfalls got closer to us.

Without warning the ground on the other side of our cover erupted in balefire and the ruins crumbled. A figure stood with its armored back to us, either it had metal skin, or it was moderately organic looking black armor with many gashes and dents strewn throughout it. The single eye of the creature seemed to be looking away and partly at us, its red glow impsing, and yet somehow comforting.

It looked in the direction the projectile had been shot, and I could see a follow up egg flying our way. It detonated mid air, the bipedal creature had shot it with a large black pistol, and judging by its ammo casing I would say fifty cal… wait is that a pistol or a sniper cannon?

“By Luna’s name.” I heard Sharpshot mutter as the metal beast drew a knife easily the size of my foreleg.

“Come… die… like… the… rest…” He, I decided it was a he, stated as several power armored ponies charged out of the ruins with a few combat armored.

Their equipment was indeed painted to match that of the Riflepony mercenary group. That being said, they stood no chance against Him.

I should give him a name, Prime? Doomguy? Demon?

Then I saw a number on his chest, heavily faded, but the dark grey proclaimed sixty four.

Sixty four, could that be his name?

Then in even smaller lettering that I had to use S.A.T.S. (Stable-Tec Assisted Targeting System) I read something which made more sense.

Harbinger

I exited S.A.T.S just in time to see him tear a pony in half, before kicking the face of another in with a boot. He swiped once with his knife and decapitated another before slamming a knee down into a crouch and firing two shots that dropped the last two power armored ponies.

It was over. He stood there, his armor aflame and covered in the gore of his opponents. Flames surrounding us all, my geiger counter ticking at a moderate rate.

“You… are… injured… soldier… Hold… still…” He stated as his hand cannon literally flew from his relaxed arm and attached to his upper right leg.

“Uh…?” Sharpshot replied with masterful tact.

“Remove… your… armor… I’m… a… trained… medic… amongst… other… things…” His voice I took note, was slightly pained, and wheezy as if he was an old stallion far past his prime, it was then I noticed the tatters that were once a black trench coat still clinging to his body.

Sharpshot didn't argue and exited her armor, her light grey coat matted and filled with bullet holes that oozed blood freely. Harbinger knelt down and produced a gel like substance in which he applied to her wounds. Almost instantly the bleeding stopped and the flesh began to knit back together.

“Who are you?” I asked, hoping not to sound ungrateful, this guy did just save our hides.

He looked at me, as if he had asked that very question to himself a thousand times over, “Harbinger… Spartan… Six… Four… U...N...S...C…” He replied before reaching to his neck, “Your… device… can… read… this… tell… my… legend… please…” He pulled out a small tape that had been modified and permanently equipped with a small glowing rectangle.

“What do you mean?” I inquired, concerned as he began to shake slightly.

“It… is… my… time… no… longer…” He paused and pulled out his pistol before laying it at my hooves, his other hand still around his neck, “Now… it.. is…” he pulled off a chain with two metal rectangles attached to it, “Yours.” he placed it in my hoof before standing up and walking slowly away, only pausing once to stab his knife into a struggling merc and giving it a sharp twist before leaving it behind and vanishing into the eternal darkness of Baltimare.

I looked down and read the printed engravings upon the steel.

Nicholas Obsidian

Spartan 064

UNSC

And on the second,

Spartan Black Team

First Lieutenant

I placed it in my saddle bag before I looked down at my brother, he had calmed down after seeing the Spartan. I looked to my only armed companion and gave a small nod before we continued on our way towards the next town, a quaint little place I couldn't recall the name of. Didn't matter, I made certain to take his blade and pistol as we walked by and away.

Author's Note:

So this has been done for about three months, I may or may not continue this story arch another day. Thoughts?

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