//------------------------------// // REWRITE 4: Under New Management // Story: Halo: Ponies and Clouded Pasts // by Blazer //------------------------------// John’s boots crunched on the hard-packed dirt as he jogged, his eyes locked onto the distant smokestack indicating the wreck of the Dawn. The short respite hadn’t helped much, but he hoped it would be enough to get him to the crash site. The lush grasslands had dulled to drier, more savannah-like terrain after continuing his endless sprint to the wreckage without rest for another couple hours. While he managed to keep a six-minute mile pace for more than half that time, he was already feeling the effects of not taking things easy after an indefinitely long cryo-sleep. His eyes felt dry and fuzzy—his furious blinking barely keeping him focused. He glanced at the purpling sky, his frown deepening. Sunrise was probably only a few hours away if his mission clock was to be trusted. While the similarities to Earth were only growing in number, he was still somewhere that simply wasn’t Earth at all. The talking horses he had encountered upon landing were a powerful reminder that he was somewhere very, very far from home. Hitting the 2x on his helmet, John spied an ominous glow in the distance—it appeared to be a small brush fire working its way towards him. He was close, now. His shields flared briefly as he vaulted over the knee-high flames—one less thing he would have to fix—the Spartan working his way between the burnt-out husks of the occasional bush or tree. While the fire had made things much easier to navigate by eliminating the tall grasses, he was sure he was leaving big, fat super-soldier footprints in the charred earth behind him. He reminded himself again that it was obvious where he was headed—all he had to do was to find something to get him off-planet or broadcast a distress signal before his pursuers arrived. Cortana would’ve called that an overly optimistic idea and chide him for relying on his luck for every solution. John sighed as his stomach tightened into a knot. He hoped she was still aboard, let alone still around. *** “So he’s the first human you’ve seen since before Equestria was formed?!” Twilight gazed over the side of the carriage in disbelief. She and her friends were immediately escorted out of the hospital alongside a very confused Rainbow Dash and onto three waiting pegasi carriages. Once in the air, the Princess had dropped several bombshells on their unprepared heads in the form of these so-called ‘humans.’ “While I cannot say what happened to these humans, I must warn you that this particular human is quite dangerous.” Twilight saw that same determined expression on the Princess’ face before facing down the Changeling Queen in Canterlot. Her softened, matronly features hardened into a stern captain of the guard as she spoke. “It is a weapon of some kind. Something designed for precision, efficiency and ruthlessness.” “Sounds a mite specific…. And how d’we know all’a this?” “Princess Luna viewed the creature’s dreams. She claimed to have seen it in action.” “Is it possible that this ‘human’ only dreamt of its ‘superhuman’ abilities?” “Yes, but it is also possible that it was simply ‘remembering’ something it had already done.” The Princess draped a wing over Twilight, giving her a sidelong glance, “That is why my guard and I will be escorting you there. Although my guard prefer to think of you as the Element Bearers rather than ambassadors of Friendship, I know your talents lie in negotiation and compromise.” Twilight blushed as she kicked the floor bashfully, “I’m glad you have faith in us, Princess.” “Yeah, but just remember we can kick a little flank, too,” Rainbow chimed in. “All I ask is that if I leave the talking to you, you can let my guards and I handle any ‘conflict,’” the Princess replied. “You have our word, your majesty.” “Alrighty, then.” “Okie-dokie!” “Fine.” “If that’s okay with you…” “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but you can trust us to step aside if necessary.” The Princess bowed her head in gratitude. She turned back to face the front of the carriage, her features hardening once more, “Remember what I’ve told you about humans. Be ready for anything, my ponies.” The purple alicorn gulped as she joined her mentor’s stare towards the pillar of smoke in the distance. *** The Spartan skidded to a halt at the bottom of the sandy slope—his entry point a large hole in the hull left from the chaotic landing. He had made it to the Dawn’s wreck an hour after the sun had risen. He appeared to be the only soul around although there was no telling when he would have company. John’s concern was that winged one that caught up to him earlier—it should have been awake a little over an hour after knocking it out. It could already be inside the wreck searching for anything that looked important. The Dawn had landed off-kilter, leaving the hallways slanting roughly 30° to one side. While it was troublesome navigating her ruined interior, he was lucky that she hadn’t landed on her side or completely upside-down. Following the arrows on the floor, he made his rounds towards any areas holding potential supplies. One-by-one, each potential resupply disappointed him. The armory was completely inaccessible, the infirmary was bone-dry save for a few empty syringes, and the remaining security stations were unpowered and emptied of anything useful. Moving towards the hangar, he stopped at another terminal inside an alcove of one of the Dawn’s many hallways—the seventh one he had come across during his inspection of the ship. He knelt beside it, carefully inserting Cortana’s chip into the slot. He waited for a single minute before replacing her chip in his helmet and moving on. With every failed attempt at finding her, he felt his body grow heavier as the prospect of a permanent absence hung above him like the sword of Damocles. He arrived at the unpowered doors leading into the control tower of the hangar. Grasping at the small crack between them, he gave a mighty pull—the mechanism screeching as the Spartan exercised his full might against the stubborn threshold. With a sudden jump, the doors cracked open a couple of extra feet. Shimmying his way between them, John took a quick look around the ruined hangar. What had once been a place of organized chaos was now just one giant mess. All of the equipment, vehicles and crates had been shoved to one side in the crash. Some small fuel fires still burned near the detritus pile—the pitch-black smoke filtering out through the dozens of large holes and tears in the hull at the top of the ruined hangar. John spied a few Pelicans cluttering the trash pile at the bottom—their varying levels of ‘derelict’ not giving him much hope. Perhaps he could repair one if he had a schematic, spare parts, and a long, long time. He winced as a wave of dizziness passed over him. For now, it only looked like he had spare parts. Winding up, he slammed his fist into the window—the bulletproof glass cracking badly from the hit. Three more powerful punches managed to make a fist-sized hole. John sighed, stepping away from the window. This was taking too long. Lowering his shoulder, he charged, tumbling through the window as he let the weight and bulkiness of his armor create an opening through the treacherous glass. Tumbling almost sixty feet, he tucked his legs as he flipped, barely managing to get his legs under him as he landed. John felt something in his legs pop as the metal floor was deformed under his half-ton suit impacting at near-terminal velocity. Working himself upright, John felt discomfort in one of his ankles and both of his knees. Briefly chiding himself for his carelessness, he began to move towards the pile of equipment lining the bottom of the hangar. He briefly noted how the gravity on this world was identical to Earth’s as he navigated between the small fires towards the Pelicans. At this point, he felt it safe to assume a great many things were identical to Earth—other than the natives. He moved to the first Pelican, climbing inside as he inspected the loading bay. Sparks leapt from punctures in the paneling on the sides as he searched for any loose gear—finding absolutely nothing. The other birds were similarly empty. Bowing his head, John sighed. Perhaps his luck had run out after all. “Human, we know you can hear us.” John crouched low, holding as still as possible as he listened for the voice’s direction. The reverb from the hangar played hell with his ears—it was obviously outside, but pinpointing it was impossible from here. “We also know you are inside that wreckage. All we ask is for a chance to talk.” The Spartan began to glance around as he began to think of various distractive ploys. Trusting whatever was out there seemed like an infinitely bad idea. “We are ponies of Equestria. We are a peaceful nation that works in harmony with our neighbors to ensure a lasting, mutually beneficial truce. We do not wish for conflict.” Maybe he could set off the fuel as a distraction? He glanced at the large tanks sitting around the Pelicans. The drums were almost the size of the birds themselves—there would be no way he could move them on his own. Detonating them here would also destroy his only hope of getting off this planet. While that hope was miniscule, he still infinitely preferred an alternative. He clambered up to the back of the Pelican, exiting the loading bay and moving towards the edge of the hangar. “We will not hurt you, but please understand that a creature of your capabilities roaming freely around our country is something we cannot afford to ignore. We must learn each other’s intentions and work together. Once we understand one another, we will allow you to roam Equestria freely.” It was moments like these where Cortana would pull up the ship’s schematics and find a way to get around these ‘ponies.’ The empty chip in the back of his head burned like a fresh wound as he stood there, staring at a darkened terminal. She was gone. “We understand that you may have some things that you wish to keep a secret. That’s okay. You don’t need to tell us anything important. We only wish to know how we can help you. There’s a lot we can do with our magic—perhaps even get you home.” John hesitated at the half-open door leading back into the Dawn’s inner hallways. It almost sounded too good to be true. “Good morning!” John whirled on his heel, knife at the ready as he faced down a pink ‘pony’ only inches away from his visor. It smiled and patted him on the helmet. “Sorry about calling you a ‘Pony Snatcher!’ I brought you some ‘sorry-for-calling-you-a-Pony-Snatcher’ apology cupcakes!” He raised his knife-hand—only to find a pink bakery box there instead. He looked back at the pink pony as if expecting it to be holding it but saw no sign of his weapon. “I figured you’re probably hungry—the Princesses say they saw you running over here through the night. You seemed pretty desperate and scared if you wanna run from us! I mean, Fluttershy also used to run away when ponies said they wanted to ‘talk,’ but I feel like that’s different. Also, I thought a cheat-meal was in order. You must’ve run like ten marathons all at once! Or maybe even more! We were flying on our carriages for a loooooong time before we got here.” It munched on a cupcake it pulled out from thin air. John glanced at his box—it had been opened; one of the nine cupcakes inside gone missing. “All this thinking’s making me hungry. Hope you don’t mind. They’re really good. Mrs. Cake doesn’t mess around when it comes to confectionaries! She’s got something that she does that makes everything taste wayyyy better than what I bake! Not that I’m saying you weren’t worth baking cupcakes for—it’s actually the opposite because Mrs. Cake’s cupcakes are clearly superior to my cupcakes and it would almost be doing you a disservice if I gave you my inferior ones! Only thing I wish I brought was some milk. Milk and cupcakes are a winning combo! Only if you’re not lactose-intolerant, of course. I knew a pony that didn’t tell us about that and…!” “Stop.” The pony who called itself Pinkie Pie took pause. “I want to make a deal.” *** “Uh… Where’s Pinkie?” “What in… How’d she…!” “Uh oh…” Princess Celestia’s horn glowed briefly before her eyes opened, her gaze locked onto the entrance of the ship. “She’s coming back out. The human is with her.” Before Twilight could ask how her mentor had determined this, her friend’s voice rang out below their vantage point at the top of the sand dune. “Twiliiiiiiight! I’m baaaaaack! It wants to make a deeeeeeaaaaaaaaal!” All eyes locked onto the two figures emerging from the wreckage: The bouncing, festive pink party pony hopping alongside the enormous, 7’ olive-green suit of living armor holding a pink bakery box. “Where’d he get that,” Rainbow mused, squinting at the ill-fitting bakery box. “Okay! I’m coming down so we don’t have to yell! I promise not to use any magic! Is this acceptable to you, human?” “Twilight…!” The Princess of Friendship glanced between her mentor and Pinkie before her gaze rested on the human expectantly. The helmeted head briefly turned towards Pinkie Pie before giving a stiff nod to Twilight. “Okay! I’ll be right there!” “Twilight…” The purple alicorn faced Princess Celestia who regarded her with a worried smile. “Please be careful.” Twilight smiled. “Don’t worry, Princess. Remember: I’ll be doing the talking.” Spreading her wings, she descended towards the strange couple waiting for her at the bottom of the dune. *** John stared down at the purple horse with trepidation. His eyes jumped between that horn and its eyes—waiting for any signs that it was going to forgo negotiations and attempt capture. “First thing’s first, I think introductions are in order.” The creature smiled. This one seemed more genuine than the pink one’s excessively wide grins. “My name is Twilight Sparkle. Princess of Friendship and one of Equestria’s four rulers.” John quickly pieced together his own introduction, avoiding any unnecessary or confidential details. “Master Chief Petty Officer 117. United Nations Space Command.” “Military, huh? My brother’s a solider, too,” Twilight mused. John paused at the remark before awkwardly continuing, “I’ll be brief. I want to return home. Preferably to somewhere under UNSC jurisdiction. What assurances can you give me regarding helping me achieve this?” Twilight frowned as she kicked the sand bashfully, “None, I’m afraid. While I specialize in magic myself, it’s a big field. There is no specific guarantee that we can help you. My guarantee was that we will do everything in our power to help you—be it returning home and/or giving you a place to stay in the event of temporary or permanent residence.” “Can you guarantee that I won’t ever be held against my will,” John ventured. “The only grounds for that would be if you harm any citizens of Equestria,” Twilight replied, “On our way here, the Princess informed me about humans and their capabilities for… violence.” John’s ears perked up. These creatures knew about humans? “I want to be completely transparent with you—but only if you tell us more about humanity.” “How much more?” “If I share my history with you, we require an equivalent level of exchange.” “Specifically?” “Answer any questions we have regarding the history your kind. If we require answers regarding other topics, further deals can be made. Does this sound acceptable?” The Spartan pondered his options for a moment. While he could care less about these ponies and their history, he knew he wouldn’t survive here without their help. His body was running on fumes at this point. He was glad his visored helmet protected his eyes from being visible—his hungry gaze distracted by the cupcakes in his hand. It seemed he was out of options for the moment. And so long as they didn’t ask him about the Halo installations or other sensitive topics that were outside of basic anthropology, he wouldn’t have a problem. “Deal.”