//------------------------------//
// The Most Well Laid Plans...* 
// Story: Guardian 
// by Requiem17 
//------------------------------//

EQUESTRIA
PLANET EQUIS
GRAND GALLOPING GALA

        Today was the day, or rather night, as the huge crowds of excited Equestrians filled the cobblestone streets of the capital city of Canterlot. Huge street parties were being thrown for those who were unfortunate enough to have not made the guest list, but this did not deter their energy in any way. Bright and colorful spotlights cut through the dusk while warring music could be heard through the air. However, none of this could compare to the majesty that was Canterlot Castle, the stone palace dominating all its competitors with massive and dazzling arrays of lights. It was the envy of all who bore witness to its majesty.

       Twilight and her friends were fortunate enough to be located right in the middle of it all, having all gone their separate ways to mingle and meet with others, experiencing their own preferences in the party. Twilight was currently sitting with both princesses in a booth, the princesses having decided that instead of greeting each pony one by one before allowing them passage into the castle, it would be much more efficient to have several lines that allowed them quicker and easier access into the castle, kind of like a hoofball game. While this was less personal, the diarchs would instead go out and about and move amongst the crowds, greeting ponies on a much larger scale while streamlining the time it had previously taken. This also allowed more time for the princesses to speak with ponies of interest if needed.

Regardless, Twilight was enjoying every moment she had the rulers to herself, getting to learn a little bit more about the daily ongoings of the nation and of the ponies who cared for it.

So far, the party was going without a hitch. Ambassadors of all kinds were enjoying themselves without the added stress of politics, having been invited without any need of diplomacy. A few dozen of the more tempered and down to earth elitists were also in attendance. They mingled with the foreigners in a friendly manner and caused no foreseen issues. Finally, many commoners who had connections or were exceptional in their actions happily frolicked in the festive atmosphere. All of these creatures of Equis, while having a good time, were still a bit separated in their own comfort zones, at least until they weren’t. 

An unidentified equine object was briefly spotted flashing through all the different groups of ponies and others, unnoticably herding all of them closer together in order to get to know one another better. These reports have been classified top secret however, and those who’ve mentioned it regularly receive randomly placed ‘Discord in a Can’ for the rest of their natural born lives, forever tormenting them for their betrayal of crown kept secrets.

Twilight took a quick sip of the glass of punch in front of her, enjoying the sweet yet tangy taste of the red liquid. She set the glass down before Celestia caught her eye, the purple mare sensing an impending question. The princess smiled pleasantly. “So, Twilight, I know you’ve been busy the past few days ensuring this would be one of the best galas yet, but did you make any downtime for yourself?”

Twilight’s eyes upturned and squinted slightly while her lips perked a bit as she rubbed a hoof along her chin, her expression thoughtful. “Well, I was pretty busy,” she looked at Celestia, “but I did go check out the auditorium, went for a walk down Mane Street, sat around the fountains a bit, and a few other odd things.” She shrugged. “That’s about it really, other than when I went and greeted my friends at the station.”

“My friend, have you not truly taken some time to yourself? Or does ensuring the stage lights are in working order, the street repaired and decorated, and the fountains cleaned count as personal time?” Luna asked, looking at Twilight in a questioning manner.

Twilight felt slight anxiety at disappointing or worrying the princesses in any way, the tightening in her gut signalling her stress. “W-well,” she started a bit nervously, “I was feeling a bit worked up and figured I might as well go and check on things personally.” She shook her head a bit, “I assure you I was just fine with it princess. I’ll have plenty of time to myself after tonight.” She hoped her answer would sate them, but judging by the look shared between the leaders of the nation, they were not.

Celestia leaned forward a bit. “While that is appreciated and above and beyond your desired duties, this ongoing trend of your complete immersion in your work is a bit disconcerting. Even now you choose to stay here with us when there are many souls here for you to get to know.”

Twilight flattened her ears, looking down at the table, although not in an entirely reprimanded manner, as she could feel the concern emanating from the one who was almost like a second mother to her. She still spoke her reasoning, “I just didn’t want to cut corners in anyway princess. I didn’t feel relaxed until I was able to clear my mind of such things. I just don’t want anything to go wrong, nopony likes when things go wrong. So I’d rather get it perfect on the first try.” Twilight felt a bit of release, sharing her reasoning for why she threw her entirety into what she did.

Celestia frowned, “Not everypony can be satisfied Twilight, and certainly nopony is perfect, not even us contrary to what many may think. You of all ponies should know that not all expectations can be met,” she leaned back. “Just look at all the things you have learned and experienced with your friends. There is much more to life than efficiency and work. Sometimes you have to get your hooves dirty and enjoy the mess of life.”

“You are an exceptional pony with exceptional talents, but it is important to try new things and let others go,” Luna added her own two bits. “An example would be what Celestia told you last night, I am trying to ‘let my mane down’ as you ponies call it and seek new ponies to befriend. I can’t stay in the shadows forever. And you shouldn’t have to stay held in such a high expectation.”

Twilight looked down at the table, letting her mind run freely. Many thoughts, questions, and concerns flew around in a whirlwind of chaos, causing Twilight to wrinkle her brow. However, with a single epiphany, the rampaging storm halted and she finally had some clarity. This is exactly what they were talking about. Why was she so worried about the very advice they had given her? There was no reason to even have confusion in her mind. She just had to… let her mane down? ‘Well, maybe not quite that yet.’

Twilight eventually nodded before looking up, meeting the gaze of both princesses. “Ok.”

Celestia raised her eyebrows, blinking her eyes a few times. “That’s it?”

“Well,” Twilight shrugged, “there’s not really much to say. If it’s as simple as you make it sound, then it should be a piece of cake.” Before Celestia could add her concern that she may be taking it like a test, Twilight added, “And I mean to take it easy, princess. Now that you mention it, I can kind of see where my actions take me, if the day before yesterday says anything.” She looked away in a bit of embarrassment. “Sorry about that by the way.”

Celestia smirked before shaking her head, “It is not a problem Twilight. I needed to blow some cobwebs out of this ol’ thing anyway.” She tapped her horn for show. “It’s not often I get to use some of the more destructive spells. I can get a bit rusty only lifting paperwork around all day.” Luna proceeded to mumble something unintelligible with a small smile before taking a sip of her punch. If one was listening close enough, at the speed with which Celestia turned her head towards her sister resulted in what sounded like a muted snap of the sound barrier breaking. “What was that, oh dear sister of mine?”

Luna’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and a rather forced smile gripped her muzzle as she set her glass down. “Oh, uh, t-that this wine is quite fascinating if I say so myself. It’s quite, strange, but in a good way.” She continued to smile oddly before making to look as if she was signalling a waiter.

“Oh, well that is rather odd Lulu, seeing as that’s actually punch you’re drinking.” The deadpan Celestia was giving her sister could have made even the most edgy of teenagers weep in envy.

“Ah, right.”

Celestia rolled her eyes before looking back to Twilight. “Anyways, I’m glad to hear that Twilight. So, now that you’ve thought about it, what are you going to do about it my little pony?”

Twilight looked around the expansive room of partying ponies, a small yet confident smile forming. “I’m sure I can think of a few ideas.”

The white princess gave an encouraging nod. “I think you have the right idea. Oh, and before I forget,” she leaned in very close towards Twilight, “if you should find yourself in the company of a nice stallion, or mare, don’t be afraid to say hello, hmm?” The cheshire grin on the princess could not have been any bigger, her pearly whites almost reflecting the furiously blushing Twilight.

The purple mare gave a brief squeak before she attempted clearing her throat. “Urm, uh, I GOTTA GO TO THE MARES ROOM!” All that was left of her departure was her brief after image.

Celestia nodded, having accomplished yet another job well done. The snirking of her sister caused her to look at her yet again. Luna gave the table a few small hits with her hoof as she struggled to hold in her amusement. She gave one last chuckle before commenting, “Good one sister. She’s too uptight and needs that sort of pestering.” She grabbed her glass to help aleve the dryness in her throat.

Celestia, in a show of unprincessley manner, placed her foreleg on the table and bent it to allow her to rest her head on it, all the while watching her sister drink. “Oh? Is that so? Well, in that case, maybe there are more ponies I can help with some provocation of their own?”

Luna, only having been back in Equestria for a few short years, had still been a princess for centuries before her imprisonment, and knew a trap when she could see one. She paused in her drink, looking warily at her sister from the corner of her eye. “Aye, perhaps they do. Are you going to go and help them?”

Celestia looked at the ceiling, “Well, I am rather good at this, as you’ve so kindly pointed out, so I’ll get started right away.” She lifted away from her hoof, coughing into it. “So, Luna,” the dark mare’s pupils turned to pinpricks and her ears suddenly flattened against her head. “I was curious about something I saw the other day. You see, I was walking through the garden the other day, past one of the more hidden mausoleums, when I spotted a Lunar Guard walking out.”

Luna set her drink down and pinched her lips tightly together. “And what about it? My Lunar Guard are responsible for investigating any suspicious activity they see. He may have simply heard something and went to make sure there was no intruder. But these are common happenstances sister, and if you’ll excuse me, I really must be g-,”

She was cut off as Celestia suddenly scooted right next to her and grabbed the other princess around her withers. “That’s exactly right! I thought the exact same thing, and judging by the guard’s reaction when he saw me, there wasn’t anything to report and we both went our separate ways. But! I had only moved another dozen feet or so when, low and behold, who else should come stumbling out of the same place?” Luna’s stomach dropped and dread filled every ounce of her being, her eyes pleading with Celestia. The white mare paid no mind and tilted her head in thought. “The pony was hard to make out at first, seeing as they were covered in dust and cobwebs, and I almost called the Lunar Guard back to explain himself, when I realized that the pony was about two feet taller than most others, had both wings and a horn, and wore a tiara of a princess, meaning they were an alicorn.” Luna began to squirm and whine in desperation to get away from her awful, horrible, witch of a sister. “Now, by process of elimination, seeing as Cadance is in the far north, Twilight was far too immersed in her work, and I’m the third of the four alicorns, that leaves…” she dramatically tapped her chin before her eyes sparkled in mock realization, her gaze locking onto her sister. “It was you in that mausoleum by yourself with that handsome stallion!"

Luna shook her head. “Sister please! It’s a misunderstanding! You don’t know what happened! I was in there looking fo-,”

“For a little bit of company of course! Don’t worry Lulu, I understand and can keep a secret. We all indulge in ourselves once in awhile eh?” She bumped her sister with her hoof. Luna merely covered her eyes with her hooves, trying to pretend she wasn’t there. Celestia dropped her act and smiled in sisterly love, before giving her a good solid hug. “Love ya Lu, have some fun tonight alright?” Celestia gave her a quick caring kiss right above her hoof covered eyes and proceeded to slip out of the booth, walking away with a smile.

Luna huffed before removing her hooves, watching Celestia walk away. She grabbed her punch before speaking loud enough for her departing sister to hear, “The wind startled me ok!?” When the white mare only laughed and disappeared into the crowd, Luna grumbled and slammed her punch down in one go before putting it on the table, crossing her legs in frustration as she pouted by herself. “I shouldn’t have opened that tomb. Stupid dust. Who neglected that place for so long anyway?” Luna continued to ponder over the deteriorating condition of the castle’s more hidden places while regretting that she had alerted a guard to her presence there, more so that her sister had seen them. Bah, it did not matter. She eventually shook her head and layed her head back against the comfortable booth. Nothing too interesting was due to happen yet, but later on in the evening there would be plenty of excitement, and she was looking forward to it. As for now, she was content in just letting the world pass her by.



1147 HOURS, APRIL 22, 2555 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
UNSC CA-121 ENDURING EMBER
MARATHON-CLASS HEAVY CRUISER

        “Attention crew! We’ll be exiting slipspace in under two minutes. Expect no enemy combatants. Recon, be ready to launch on our go. Salvage teams will follow after initial reports. Further orders to come as the situation updates. Standby…”

       Ale moved his armored head straight from its tilted position before taking the last step up the metal ramp of a Pelican. The troop bay had a full complement of combat engineers with a few ODST’s acting as security, the soldiers quieting down as the half ton of metal shuffled inside. Ale carried his full assortment of experimental technology, with the addition of a M392 DMR. If there was going to be any kind of combat in space, the Spartan would trust in the mid to long range capability of the designated marksman rifle. Ale moved next to an empty seat and placed one hand on the head rest, securing the weapon in a clamp next to it. Turning around, he took a seat and laid his head back, looking towards the ceiling. The troops surrounding him finished having their looks and proceeded to continue their conversations, wrapping up any preparations for the mission.

The Spartan ignored the two troopers who slightly hesitated before sitting to either side of him, not bothered by them at all. The only acknowledgement he gave them was a look to the one on his right, followed by a slight nod to the one on his left, putting them at ease. Not many on the ship knew him, none at all personally. Throughout his two year service aboard the Ember the Spartan had not once seen any reason whatsoever to grow closer to any of these men and women. Not to say he didn’t care about them, as he was still somewhat human under all that metal, but when one had seen how fast the Covenant could chew through even the most battle hardened of troopers, it was easier to keep your distance.

The pressure alarm went off in the hangar, warning the deck crew and all else inside that the room would soon be empty of all atmosphere. Ale watched the crew scramble to either leave or put on vacuum suits before his field of vision was cut off by the Pelican closing its loading ramp, the metal gantry locking into place with a few loud clanks. The troop bay fell into blackness, broken only by the scattered digital lights of weapons, armor, and equipment, before it lit up again in dim red lighting. The dark wouldn’t have troubled the troopers or Ale, seeing as they all had some form of VISR installed in their helmets. Any light was appreciated though as it provided an instinctual sort of comfort or security.

Ale kept quiet and to himself, mentally ticking down the time until the ship exited slipspace and arrived at its destination. He was calm and relaxed, having very little concern over his assigned task. A salvage mission that wasn’t in a combat zone should be a walk in the park. Even with the dangers the wrecks of ships posed was fairly minimal, and the team of troopers and he himself were more than equipped and trained to handle a situation like this. The soldiers knew this too, as the lax way they talked with one another showed that they were unconcerned, more so when they had the backup of a Spartan with them.

Sending the Spartan on a salvage run may seem like a waste of an asset, but other than the obvious concern over securing any sensitive data they may encounter, it was rather nice for him to do something other than his normal routine. Besides, if there came a need for a human crowbar, Ale just so happened to posses the enhanced strength required. Tearing things apart wasn’t anything new.

Through the metal of the Pelican, Ale could feel the vibrations of the ship as it ruptured back into real time, leaving behind the vortex of slipspace behind them. He tuned in to the command channel, ensuring he himself was not broadcasting as to not interfere with the comms, and listened to the current ongoings of the mission.

“...-ay is clear. You are go for launch.”

Ale could only hear a few muffled thumps from the vibrations caused by the release of the Broadswords from their maintenance harnesses. Silence followed after, no sounds other than those generated inside of the Pelican being heard due to the vacuum of space in the open hangar.

“Ember, we are green across the board. Moving towards last reported location. ETA at full burn seven minutes. Preliminary scans show no sign of Tempest, as expected. We’ll boost scanners and follow the assumed path of a wreck, over.”

The Spartan listened to the ship’s confirmation before falling into silence, having become quite acquainted to it over the years. The troopers had other ideas of their own and began talking to pass the time, a few pulling out odd trinkets or pictures to look at and show to their buddies. Ale pulled up a systems report on his HUD and browsed over the status of his armor. Confirming that everything was as it should be, he dismissed the report, rapid movement to his right immediately catching his attention. 

“Fuck!” a trooper shouted as he dropped a spherical object, accidentally launching it across the floor in his fumbling attempts to catch it. The Spartan moved his foot quickly, pinning the glass looking orb to the metal floor. The troop bay quickly fell silent as all looked on at the Spartan. That was a lot of weight to put onto glass, and the trooper who had dropped it looked like he knew it too. Stretching forward and between his legs, Ale lifted his foot to the side and grabbed the orb, having taken care in how much weight he had put on it in stopping it. The glass sphere piqued Ale’s interest and he held it up to his visor, using the red light of the bay to inspect it. 

His eyes widened in surprise as he found a 3D photo embedded into the glass. Looking closer, it looked like the picture was created by staining the glass as it was formed, which was very complex and expensive to do. The image itself consisted of a woman, a man, and two children, a boy and girl. A classic family. Ale noted that they were all genuinely smiling, a beach in the background. The glass looked a bit scratched, but otherwise was in great condition and undoubtedly very strong due to it’s shape and density.

Ale looked up to the man who was watching him like a hawk, concern and wariness drawn on his face. He held it up, the man catching on quickly and holding up his hands in front of chest. The Spartan tossed the glass picture carefully and with unerring accuracy, the man catching it with no problems.

“Beautiful family you got there,” Ale stated truthfully. “They waiting for you?”

The man nodded, “Yes sir, they’re in Abilene, Texas.”

“United Republic, good place to be.” Ale tilted his head towards the sphere the soldier held. “Keep a closer eye on that, I might not be around to catch it again.”

“Thank you sir,” he responded. The Spartan watched him tuck the odd picture into a secure place in his suit, keeping it close to him. Ale looked away and resumed his current television broadcasting, “How Many Rivets are in the Ceiling?”. The picture distracted him however, his mind mulling over the happiness and bonding of the family. Such a thing was alien to him, and he could not relate to his fellow humans in such a way. His thoughts drifted into dangerous territory as he mulled over what that would be like, although it was difficult for him to come up with ideas. One thing he did know was that he was open minded and was curious. However, given his current situation, there wasn’t a lot of time to bond with others, much less actually nurture a friendship. The only family he ever had was mostly gone, something he didn’t try to think about often.

“Ember, we’ve found signs of debris. No eyes on wreck yet, but debris drift suggests Tempest could be in a mild elliptical orbit around the local gas giant. We’re adjusting course to take a peek on the other side. How copy?”

“Affirmative Phorcides, salvage team is on standby awaiting your confirmation.”

The troopers and Ale only had to wait a minute or two more when Ale heard the comms open again.

“Uh, Ember, we’re seeing increased debris nearing the far side of the planet. We’re getting larger and larger chunks, Covenant debris as well. There’s more than enough wreckage for one ship. We’ve likely found what remains of Tempest and her pursuer.”

“Roger that. Keep looking around, we’re just entering orbit and will catch up in about 15 minutes. See if you can locate anything of interest.”

“Solid copy Ember. Positioning for a swee-”.

The comms went to static for a moment before cutting out completely. Ale blinked and waited a few seconds before he turned his head, looking towards the cockpit of the Pelican. “Pilot,” the Spartan spoke over the local channel in the squad. The pilot leaned sideways and looked over his shoulder at Ale, his head completely encased in dark glass and metal. “Are you still receiving?”

The pilot shook his head with a nonverbal response before disappearing back into the flight seat. Ale ran a quick diagnostics on his radio, knowing it should still be in working order given that he had been able to speak to the pilot. The command channel winked, alerting Ale that someone was currently transmitting on it. He used his eyes and neural implant to open the channel.

“Phorcides, we’ve lost your signal. Please check if you’re transmitting. Acknowledge, over.” As the seconds passed and the Ember repeatedly failed to receive a response, Ale felt his gut drop and energy began to flood his body, a natural response when there was danger, and the unknown was the epitome of danger. Ale’s instinct was talking, and the Spartan had learned long ago to follow it, saving his life and the lives of others countless times.

The comms went live as a transmission from command came through. “Salvage team, be aware, we’ve lost contact with recon team Phorcides. It could be interference from the planet’s extreme magnetic field. Stay on standby.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” a trooper stated in the squad’s channel.

A nearby ODST slugged the man in the shoulder, followed by a quick smack to his helmet. “What did you go and say that for!? Now there’s going to be trouble!”

The man shrugged. “Just saying.”

The squad leader made a sharp gesture across his throat, telling them to knock it off. They all settled down and waited in the silence, the air filled with a tension so tangible you could almost physically feel it. The excuse command had given for their lack of contact did little to comfort them, given that it wasn’t the first time they had heard it, and almost every time it had resulted in combat.

Time passed and Ale kept track on his mission clock, knowing that the last position of the recon team’s transmission couldn’t be far off. The Spartan wasn’t particularly worried and was only tense due to his body preparing for the worse. His mind calm, Ale knew that out of the many possible scenarios, the ship would more than likely be able to handle it, seeing as there wasn’t too much of a threat from the scattered remnants of the Covenant, pirates, or even the occasional ship that the Rebels have either captured or retrofitted into a makeshift destroyer. Nonetheless, it wasn’t smart to get cocky, and Ale did not get comfortable.

The command channel went live again. “Debris in sight and we have yet to receive a reply from recon. Let’s move into TAC CON Bravo; start warming up weapon systems and prep a strike squad to see if we can find our lost recon picket. Salvage team, stand down and wait for disembark. Until we receive word from Phorcides, yo-”, static came through the channel as a voice stuck in ambiguosity spoke through the interference. After a second, command attempted to hail the transmission. “Come again, is that you Phorcides?”

Scattered radio frequency modulations buzzed the feed rapidly before a voice finally came through. “-ecking the frequency. Do you read me Ember? This is Phorcides, over.”

“Roger, what’s your situation?”

“We’re all still here. We encountered brief strong magnetic interference in the area while initiating a further scan of the area. We’ve located the bridge and what little still remains intact of the Tempest, along with a heavily damaged and inoperable Covenant SDV-Class Heavy Corvette. Local radiation scans show that Havok V nukes have been detonated, coinciding with the level of damage done to the cruiser. It looks like Tempest detonated them at extreme close range, probably in a final effort to deny the Covenant the ship. No other information forthcoming.”

“Roger, wait one. Crew, belay previous order. Standby.” Ale was a bit surprised that the ship had used nukes that close to their enemy, but it wasn’t that uncommon if the Covenant had disabled the ship’s ability to run and desired to board. The crew had more than likely decided to take their lives into their own hands and detonated the nukes, taking their own lives along with those of the Covenant. Or their captain had decided for them. That wasn’t uncommon either. Either way, Ale was relieved that Phorcides was fine.

“Alright Phorcides, we’d like you to identify possible entrances to what remains of the bridge for salvage before returning to the hangar. We’re encountering some of the heavier debris and are navigating our way to you, over.”

The recon picket acknowledged before the comms went dead again. It went without saying that the troopers were to stay put, seeing as everything was fine and they would still have a job to do. 

“Well that was interesting,” one of the engineers said, rolling his shoulders and shifting his tactical gear.

“You’re telling me. Poor bastards really. At least they got a final jab at those fuckers.”

Two years was not even marginally long enough for the hatred between the races to cool down, given one of them had the blood of billions on their hands, while the other had been inconceivably stubborn for three decades, brought about the end of their mighty coalition and the initiator of the current civil war between one of its species. This conflict and mutual revulsion of the other would not be going away anytime soon, if ever.

Ale tapped his leg armor in a rare display of character, going unnoticed by both him and the soldiers. He glanced over the larger equipment strapped down in the center of the Pelican as he waited for the progression of their mission, looking for any deficiencies in its bonds. Sitting still in a cramped space wasn’t anything new, and while the Spartan was content, Ale did admit to himself that this was a bit boring. Boring was good though, as it generally meant there was less shooting and explosions, meaning there was no danger to his life or the lives of others. That was never a fun thing.

“Ember, we’re making our way back to you. Sending possible entry points, over.”

“Acknowledged, we’re receiving. Scavenge, prepare to disembark. Launch in two minutes.” The command channel continued to issue orders to various other stations and crew, Ale ignoring the radio chatter that didn’t relate to them as the Pelican’s engines began to spin up, producing a high hum in the pressurized troop bay. Various metallic thumps and other digital tones accompanied the base noise as the pilot prepared for departure. The troopers fell quiet and ensured they were strapped down to their seats before going over final equipment checks on themselves and their buddies. Ale placed his helmeted head against the slightly padded headrest, feeling the transport vibrate. He closed his eyes exhaled, taking it easy.

His mouth twitched when the radio traffic suddenly increased, more urgent tones beginning to flood the channel. The soldiers were looking at each other in confusion, attempting to figure out what the problem was and comparing what they heard with each other, most of it being randomly placed assumptions or guesses. Ale’s mind went into overdrive as he attempted to sort through the mass communication his transceiver was picking up. He didn’t have to wait long before the bridge cut everyone’s comm traffic and started broadcasting.

“Crew, be advised, multiple slipspace ruptures detected. Hostile contact imminent! Go to TAC CON Alpha Two. All crew man their stations. Further orders to come. Standby.”

Ale immediately began to free himself from his seat, as did the rest of the troopers. The soldiers began grabbing their weapons they had previously stowed, swapping out their equipment as needed in case of enemy boarders. The Spartan let the DMR he had brought along be, finding his current loadout to be more suited for the situation. The hum of the Pelican’s engines quieted and the pilot stepped out of their seat, grasping a handhold as he switched to external speakers. “Phorcides has just cleared the hangar! Keep your suits sealed until the vac alarm goes quiet! I’m opening the ramp now. Good luck!”

Ale and the troopers lined up in two lines as the pilot released the walkway, atmosphere rapidly erupting from the broken seal before everything went dead quiet, with the exception of Ale’s own breathing inside his helmet. The ramp opened, revealing flashing yellow lights and revolving red lights. The deck crew were running around, some guiding the final Broadsword from the recon picket into its berth. The ramp had yet to hit the floor before the Pelican’s inhabitants began pouring out, hustling to their own assigned destinations. Air vapor began rushing in from the vents as Ale jogged across the hangar, dodging the scrambling crew and the various machines. Muffled sound started to sharpen into existence before the loud sound of machinery and alarms dominated the hanger. Ale made it to the edge of the hanger just as the yellow lights stopped flashing and the vacuum alarm quit, only to be replaced by that of the combat alarm. The door turned green and Ale slipped through before it had opened entirely, moving through the crowded hallways. The bridge was Ale’s intended destination and where he would most likely be needed most.

All the while Ale maintained his cool. He did not let whatever was going on trouble him greatly. The crew and the ship would work their way through it. They had done it before and they would do it again. All they had to do was follow their orders and pray for the favor of God, the universe, or whatever they believed in.

Preferably not the RNG god. If the crew relied on those odds, Ale would be deeply disturbed and his faith in them shaken.

The crowded hallways were one obstacle in Ale’s journey, the enemy ships more than likely being his next hurdle. With any luck, that would be all he had to focus on overcoming today. He had overpaid his fair share to the defense of humanity and his fight to continue existing alive many times over. Surely fate could toss him a bone on this one? Afterall, it’s not like he had given the universe or any deity in charge any reason to hate him. No, he’ll come out of this hunkey dorey with just another added tale to his long list of classified stories that would never see the light of day or grace the ears of anyone willing to listen. He was a Spartan, and Spartans never died.

Right?