//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: You Told Me There Wouldn't Be Any Cameras // Story: Halo: Ponies and Clouded Pasts // by Blazer //------------------------------// She brought forth an item with her magic. John recognized the pistol that he had salvaged from the wreck earlier. "However, I'm quite familiar with what this is, albeit a little different from what I've encountered before." John frowned, shifting in the flattened hay. What did she mean by that…? Encountered. He thought. His gaze drifted to the moon that peeked through the barn's roof, moonlight sifting through the boards in the roof. John suddenly felt very tired, the hopelessness immediately beginning to settle back in his limbs again. He let his head bump the side of the barn as he leaned back, drifting into an uneasy slumber. -- "Me, inside your head, now," Cortana barked. John hurried to the pedestal, setting his hand on its glowing surface. Cortana vanished, and his hand flickered with energy momentarily. Balling that hand into a fist, he jogged over to the Covenant bomb, setting his palm on what appeared to be a timer. As soon as he made contact with the timer's flashing screen, the violent red faded to a cool aqua. John stood up. "How much time was left?" he asked. "You don't wanna know," Cortana replied. A sudden burst of static turned John's attention away from the bomb. "Cairo. This is In Amber Clad. The carrier shield is down. I'm in position and ready for immediate assault," Miranda said. "Negative, Commander. Not against a ship that size. Not on your own," crackled Lord Hood's voice over the comms. John suddenly had either one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever conceived… Actually, no. It was just plain stupid. "Sir. Permission to leave the station," he asked. "For what purpose, Master Chief?" Lord Hood inquired. John smirked beneath his helmet. "To give the Covenant back their bomb." There was a pause before Lord Hood replied, "Permission granted." John gripped the bomb's spikes with two gloved hands, leaning backwards and pulling with all of his might. The bomb gave a little initially, the spikes leaving shallow scratches in the titanium deck. It eventually jumped as the Chief squeezed out a bit more effort, screeching in protest as metal dragged against metal. The Chief finally managed to get it into the elevator behind him, easing off of the spikes as the doors closed. He felt a moment of light-headedness as the elevator began to descend. "I know what you're thinking," Cortana started, "and it's crazy." John shrugged, "So? Stay here." "Unfortunately for us both," Cortana continued, "I like crazy." The elevator door opened again, allowing John to step out. He pulled the bomb out of the elevator, leaving it sitting a few yards away from the dispenser controls. He strolled up to the glass window of the airlock, gazing through its translucent surface. A scene of pure chaos reigned outside, dozens of UNSC ships and Covenant cruisers engaged in deadly broadside battles outside of the station. Blue puffs of deadly plasma detonations and the red trails of Archer missiles lit up the vacuum, painting a picture of horrible beauty. It was the largest space battle that John could ever imagine, although he feigned disinterest. Turning back to the dispenser controls, he tapped the ‘VENT AIRLOCK' button, looking up at the lever that flicked open in response. "Just one question…" Cortana ventured. John put a hand up to the lever and paused, waiting for her aforementioned inquiry. "What if you miss?" She finished. John thought for a moment, and then replied, "I won't." He yanked the lever, pressing himself against the dispenser controls as the airlock doors opened. A loud whooshing was all he could hear as the air rushed out into the vacuum of space. John looked back at the bomb when he heard a gentle scraping noise, barely audible over the roar of escaping air. It began to inch towards the now-open airlock, before being caught entirely in the pull of the vacuum. It slid across the titanium deck as if it were ice, quickly approaching the open door. John grabbed one of its spikes as it passed, allowing it to drag him out past the doors. Slowly looking up, John shielded his eyes from the sun that was rising over the Earth's horizon. The light was blinding… John blinked once, twice, three times as the sun beat upon his visor. He turned up the polarization, ceasing to squint once it darkened noticeably. The cheerful calls of morning birds danced over his ears, along with the gentle rustling of hay shifting beneath him. When he turned to lay on his back, John winced as a wave of soreness washed over him. He cursed his own ignorance. He had forgotten how uncomfortable the armor is to sleep in, let alone sit. It was morning, judging by how low the sun was in the sky, which was visible through the barn's only door. John slowly sat up before a realization hit him. He hadn't left the barn door open before going to sleep. He finished sitting up and stopped, eyes darting between the motion tracker and his surroundings. To his right was an overturned wheelbarrow, partially buried by a pile of hay. Next to that was the water trough, now refilled to the brim with more of the life-giving liquid. Three conspicuous bales of hay sat to his direct left. Slowly standing up, John feigned indifference, walking towards the water trough. He stooped to it, gazing at his own reflection. After waiting for a few moments, he could hear some loud whispers being passed behind him, as his motion sensor tracked three blips that trailed him. "You sure he talks? He seems pretty quiet to me." "Tha's because there's nopony for him to talk to! He talked to me!" "Girls! Shh! Maybe he can hear us!" "Sweetie Belle, he didn't wake up when you busted up that lantern earlier opening the barn door, I'm pretty sure he can't hear well. The helmet prolly cuts off all sound… right?" "Wrong," John said flatly. The three blips froze on the motion tracker, eventually disappearing. Gripping the sides of the water trough, John whirled on the unfortunate hay bales, emptied the trough's contents onto them. The hay parted as ten gallons of water swept it away, leaving what appeared to be three younger mares standing before him. Depositing the water trough behind him, John stood up to his full height, towering above the soaked equines. He stood in silence, ignoring the fact that they could not see his frown of disapproval. He found it hard to stay mad as they continued to stare up at him with eyes. Eyes full of fear. John recognized the emotion all too well. Perhaps these three were simply curious. They looked quite young compared to their larger counterparts; their bodies were significantly smaller and stubbier, from their snouts to their legs. They still did retain characteristics of the "ponies" he had encountered previously, an orange one sporting a pair of wings (presumably a ‘pegasus') and a purple mane, a white ‘unicorn' with a purple/pink mane, while the last one had no wings or horn, a long red mane pulled back into a ponytail behind a large pink bow. Their eyes, however, were massive, considering that the eyes were probably fully grown while the head and body were filling in around them. Possibly young. Obviously reckless. Before he could say anything, the three foals scrambled backwards, screaming in unison. They quickly retreated from the barn, leaving a somewhat-flustered Master Chief standing in the barn door. John glanced at the horizon, pausing for a moment to take in the beauty. The sun had already left its resting place on the horizon, currently resting at its midmorning mark. And there was no one there to enjoy it with. Mentally dispersing the unwanted thoughts, John's eyes drifted to his mission clock. It read 1730 Hours. November 28, 2582. John frowned again. The date was probably correct, but the time was definitely off. He would have to reset that later. Something to do, at least. His eyes roved his HUD, looking for other possible maintenance issues. His search was cut short when a familiar southern drawl reached his ears. "Well, look who's awake!" Applejack galloped up to him, panting slightly, "Sleep well?" she asked. John glanced at the barn, "Reasonably. Had some visitors," he replied. Applejack cocked her head. "Wha…? Who? What did they look like?" John recounted what had happened to him in the barn, and the proper countermeasures he had taken. To his surprise, Applejack found this quite amusing. "Well, ya did have me a bit worried about Apple Bloom for a second. Thought you were gonna throw the trough, lumber and all." She couldn't help a grin. "But this'll teach her not to sneak up on a pon—uh—person when they're sleeping." John looked away. There was nothing he thought was amusing in this matter, but the fact that they were probably siblings would explain the lack of remorse Applejack felt for her sister. Or maybe that this kind of thing happened a lot. "Anyways, Ah've got some news for ya, John," she continued. John instinctively gritted his teeth. He preferred his callsign over his real name; it made him feel like everyone was looking down at him. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his voice level. "Not sure if Twi told ya about this las' night, but the Princess is havin' a… an announcement of sorts. They're gonna ‘reveal' ya to the pony public, since you'll be hangin' around Ponyville until you can go home," Applejack explained. John's spirits rose, but promptly fell when he remembered why he wouldn't be able to return. He simply nodded. "Okay. When is this?" "Twi said it'll be around noon, when everypony's awake. Pinkie Pie will be here later t' escort ya to the Town Hall. That's where it'll be takin' place." Applejack tapped her chin, "I think Pinkie's supposed to make a detour to Carousel Boutique; get you somethin' nice t'wear." John stiffened at the idea. He wasn't getting out of his armor, period. A whole team of technicians would be required to take this armor off, and even then, he would rather face the Princess's wrath and attempt escape. Applejack shrugged. "At any rate, I think we should all start with a bit o' breakfast," she said, turning back to the farm. John shook his head, "No, thank you, ma'am." "It's Applejack, and you're gonna need t' eat. You'll probably be going without lunch, jus' like the rest of us," she shot back, not even looking at him. "The thing's at noon, after all. You won't get a chance to eat again until suppertime." Nodding, John followed her to the farmhouse, taking a seat outside to wait for the food. -- John found himself sitting outside once again as he waited patiently for Pinkie Pie to fetch this "Rarity." The walk to the boutique had been a strange one. Pinkie Pie was the only one who could evade all five of his senses, not to mention his motion tracker. Unless she wanted to be detected, of course. Together, they had silently weaved between the town's back streets, John occasionally having to pull the pink pony aside and ask that she not try to greet everyone they almost ran into. Quickly trying to forget the uncomfortable experience, John's attention returned to the back door when another familiar face had shown itself. It was the alabaster unicorn that he had seen in front of the forest. She gave him a disapproving look before replacing it with a forced smile. "Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique and magnifique!" John simply nodded, "Thanks." She stepped out from behind the door, looking up at him. "I'd ask you to come inside, but I believe the door frame is a few sizes too small for you," she quipped. "I can take measurements out here, though. So, if you could please stand still while I take these down." A floating band of measuring tape flew out from the doorway, flitting around as she mentally jotted down his physical characteristics. John coughed politely. "Thank you for doing this, but I—" "Not now, good sir. I am in the zone! Please hold all questions until I am finished!" Rarity replied. John frowned. "Miss Rarity, I'm sorry, but I can't exactly remove this armor." The unicorn pulled the measuring tape to his shoulders. "Oh, but of course you can, dear. Nopony's looking over here, and I'll just head inside if you wish to change out of that," she said. "Arms down, please." Lowering his arms, John pushed his case, "A team of technicians is usually required to simply remove one piece of this armor." John explained. The unicorn stopped her antics, finally getting it. "Oh… You… you don't want a suit?" She asked, her eyes sad. John hesitated, "No… I am grateful for your efforts, ma'am. But I wouldn't be able to wear it over the armor," he explained quickly. She lowered her head, puffing out her lower lip, "Not even a bowtie?" John slowly shook his head, "No, thank you, Miss Rarity." The unicorn nodded, "I suppose you're right." She glanced up at him, turning up her nose. "Olive green clashes with everything, anyways." John frowned. "Ma'am, I'm sorry to reject your generosity," he started. "Oh, no, no. It's quite alright, John," Rarity replied, rolling up the measuring tape with her telekinesis. "Please forgive my rudeness; it's just I do enjoy a fashion challenge every once in awhile, and this was something of an opportunity." John opened his mouth to speak again before Rarity interrupted him, "But thank you, John, for being so quick to make up." She gave him a warm smile. "I'm surprised by your knowledge of etiquette; you're quite polite for an alien." Once again, John could only nod. These ponies sure warm up to people fast. His inward smile turned to inward despair when Rarity wrinkled her nose at him, covering it with a foreleg, "However, you must do something about that… odor. Imagine! Sitting next to the Princesses, smelling like that!" I have. On two occasions. John let the unspoken words disappear into the back of his mind as he stood silently. It was understandable, though. Almost two months of non-stop fighting, through a variety of environments, not to mention a Flood-infested High Charity when he went looking for… John let out a sigh. Why do things always go back to her…? "John? Is something wrong?" Rarity inquired. Broken out of his stupor, John shook his head. "It's nothing, ma'am." The unicorn started back into her shop, "Well, let's get you some cologne. I just received a new scent from Fancy Pants last week! I think you're going to love it. I'll bring it out back for you." As the door closed, John could already tell he was not going to ‘love it'. -- "Goodness, John! We could smell you from a mile away!" John frowned. He didn't know what was worse; a subtle ‘stench' or an overpowering smell of rose water and fresh grass. He had to admit: The cologne wasn't bad. It was the quantity that the alabaster unicorn had applied that made it a problem. Princess Luna sighed. "Well, We believe that's what happens when you decline Miss Rarity's services. She'll always make you leave with something." She glanced towards the purple curtains that were directly in front of her. They were sitting in the back room of the town hall; luckily, the rear entrance was designed for freight, so the doorway was built oversized to allow larger items, such as ice sculptures and decorative statues, to be brought inside. It was just large enough for the super soldier to squeeze through. "When my sister goes out, get ready," she said. "Just say a few words. Introduce yourself. A few questions will be asked to get the public comfortable with you," she explained quickly. John nodded, "And after that?" She shrugged. "You're done, We think." John sat in silence for a few moments before asking, "Why is your sister so upset? Didn't Twilight explain to her what happened after the knife incident?" Luna continued to watch the curtains as if they were going to suddenly fly open. "Yes. It's just that she cares so much for Twilight. She's very protective of her because Twilight is actually Princess Celestia's personal pupil." John's mouth fell open. "What does she teach Twilight?" Luna shrugged her wings. "Spells, mostly. But they've been close since Twilight was a little filly. She took Twilight under her wing upon Twilight's entrance to the School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot and personally tutored her." Luna smiled. "It stayed that way until Twilight moved to Ponyville to study the quirks and characteristics of friendship." John almost scoffed, but allowed the Princess to continue. "They're very close; Twilight and the Princess. That's why she was so upset at you. She was scared of what ‘almost' became of Twilight, but that's just her protective nature," Luna explained. John suddenly understood. The threats, the arguments. All because he had threatened Twilight's life for a single moment. And the things he had done to anyone who threatened Cortana. He felt surprised that he had lived this long. "I can sympathize," John mumbled. Fanfare erupted from behind the curtain. A voice, seemingly distant, accompanied the fanfare, "…to present our ruler, Princess Celestia!" "Make ready, John," Luna advised, "And good luck." John could only nod as he waited for the inevitable unveiling of his existence. "Hello, my subjects," the liquid-mercury voice flowed over his ears. "Now, you are all wondering what exactly was the large meteor that passed over Ponyville two nights ago. I can assure you…" John tuned out as she rambled on. He wished he had known about Twilight's relationship with the Princess before, although it was his own fault for not noticing it sooner. There was meaning behind their sudden closeness when the Princess showed up to the forest the other night. "Now, I have brought him before you so that you will not be afraid of him, and accept him into pony society," the Princess continued. "Ladies and Gentlecolts... Spartan-117." John strode through the curtain, bombarded by a flurry of camera flashes and an eerie silence.