My Little Halo: Harmony Evolved

by Arcane Howitzer


13: Sympathy and Shadows

Canterlot Grand Square
December 3, 2011, 12:00 P.M. Canterlot Local Time
Canterlot, Equestria

Overcast skies loomed over the packed square, though the winter’s snows had been delayed until after Princess Celestia’s speech. Despite the dreary lighting, the mood that day could only be described as celebratory. And why shouldn’t it be? The princess had returned, the changelings were defeated, and the new ponies, scary though they were, had repaired two weeks’ battle worth of damage in a few days. All that was missing was the princess’s speech to assure them that everything would now go back to how it was.
As the clocks tolled noon, a hush went out over the crowd. Pegasi alighted on clouds and roofs, and foals climbed on their parents’ backs to get a better view of the podium at the far side of the square. Listening spells were cast in the back rows to ensure the ponies back there could hear what was said, though even those picked up no sound as everypony waited for the speech to start.
Twilight and her friends were afforded places at the front of the gathering, as befitted their position, and so were among the first to see Princess Celestia as she approached the podium. There was something different about her. The near-imperceptible droop in her wings and head, the way each step seemed an effort to make, the way she looked to the eyes of her people without smiling all showed that she wished to be anywhere but there, or do anything but what she was about to do. Everypony knew their princess was old, having seen her unaging face across countless generations, but now they could see the millennia etched across her face. So startling was the transformation, that Twilight almost missed more of the strange space-ponies following her in addition to her usual guards.
She ascended her platform and gazed once more into the faces of her subjects, now distraught with worry for their princess. “My little ponies, for generation we have basked in an age of peace. Not since the confusion following my sister’s banishment a thousand years ago has any outside force thought to threaten us, and left to our own devices, we have flourished. We have lived and worked and played, many of us with no worry beyond our friends and family. These centuries of joy and growth, and the memories that came with them, I would not trade for any price.
“But as happy as these times have been, they are not without a price of their own. With such peace at hoof, I fear we have become blind to the strife they lay beyond our borders. Across the seas, gryphons have warred for power amongst themselves. In the badlands, visible from Canterlot itself, the changelings had been allowed to starve out of sight and mind. And now the humans of the UNSC, the very beings who have returned me to you all, have stood alone among the stars themselves, and for the past twenty-five years fought a force more wrathful and destructive than words alone can describe.
“I do not blame you for this negligence, my little ponies. Never think that I do, for I have been more a victim of it than you. Unlike you, I have known desperation and pain, from the tortures Discord visited upon the olden pony tribes to which I and my sister were born, to the hateful divisions the three races forced on themselves before Equestria was founded, and the malice of a rouge spirit who thought to use my dearest sister to bring ruin to the world. Despite having witnessed these things first-hoof, I had allowed myself to forget that such things could happen elsewhere, are still happening elsewhere. This error is mine far more than yours, but it cannot continue uncorrected.
“And so I thank you everypony, present and past, for the privilege of leading you in this peace, but it is time for it to end. We must set aside our contentment, and offer what we can to those who need it, starting with where that need is most urgent: the humans.
“I will be gathering a delegation to send with the ponies that arrived with me, who are in fact humans themselves, though they will not reveal how they came upon their transformation. Luna has been chosen to lead this delegation, but I need ponies with knowledge of magic in its varying forms to join them and offer their expertise. The humans cannot use magic themselves, but this information could prove invaluable to their survival. In addition, I will be allowing them to build bases and structures in and near major Equestrian cities, for your benefit and safety.”
“Any questions?”
For the longest time, the crowd was silent. This was not what they had expected at all. They were not going to be able to go back to their quiet peace, and many were ashamed that that was their first thought of the princess’s plea for action.
Just as Celestia was about to turn away, a mint-green hoof hesitantly rose above the sea of ponies. “The humans. What do they look like?” the mare asked shyly. Many ponies recognized the voice as belonging to Lyra Heartstrings, a peculiar Ponyville native, though they had never seen her so subdued and uncertain.
“They resemble tall, mostly-hairless apes that walk completely upright, and constantly wear clothing that covers most of their body. From what little I’ve seen of them, their skin and hair color varies very little naturally, though they often use inks and dyes to add colors and patterns.”
“And you said they don’t have magic, but that they’ve been among the stars for decades. How is that possible?”
“Without magic, humans have had to rely entirely on science to advance themselves, and they have taken it much farther than magic alone could ever go. They have actually been traveling beyond their home planet for several centuries.” That earned several exclamations of wonder from the gathered ponies, but Lyra looked as though that had simply confirmed her suspicions.
“And what-” She hesitated, as though afraid of the answer she would receive. “What have they been fighting?”
For a moment, it was Celestia’s turn to be silent. When she did respond, it was with a voice devoid of emotion. “They have been at war with a coalition of alien races possessing overwhelming technological and numerical advantages. The aliens call themselves the Covenant, and have made it abundantly clear, with the blood of tens of billions, that they will accept neither surrender, nor prisoners” Everypony paled as that number sank in. Tens of billions? The entirety of the pony race hardly numbered ten million. To think that for every pony alive, thousands of humans lay dead… It was simply inconceivable!
“That is why,” the princess continued, “I am allowing the humans to build defenses and evacuation centers throughout Equestria, and I encourage other nations to do the same. If those monsters were to ever learn of our location, there is nothing we could do to keep them from burning our world as they have done to so many others, but with the help of the humans’ technology, some of us may escape and find another world to call home.”
“Do not be alarmed,” she called, interrupting panicked murmurs before they could take root. “It may never come to that, as the Covenant does not even know of our existence. But should they stumble upon us, we must be prepared to do whatever is necessary to survive. The changeling invasion has been a bitter reminder that friendship and harmony cannot defeat all foes, one we must take to heart if the Covenant ever comes here.”
More hooves rose, with questions ranging from the humans’ technology and society (which Celestia actually knew very little about) to the nature of the Covenant and the races that made it up. There was even discussion on the militia groups that were being formed against the possible arrival of the Covenant to Equestria, which would be supplied with actual UNSC weaponry and trained by specialists chosen from the soldiers on the Guam. Somepony also brought up the subject of possible exchange of goods and knowledge, but such matters were for the delegation to decide.
Canterlot Castle
December 3, 2011, 3:00 P.M. Canterlot Local Time
Canterlot, Equestria

Celestia’s private quarters were as dark as they had ever been, the curtains draw, the windows and balcony doors shut against the snowfall that had started less than an hour before. The only light was a fire in the hearth, into which the sun princess was staring morosely, her face obscured by her slowly-waving mane, when Luna entered. Despite the gloom, she could feel the watchful gaze of five elite soldiers the moment the door opened.
“Tia?” she called when Celestia didn’t acknowledge her presence. “Sister, are you sure this is wise?”
“I… I don’t know,” she responded without looking up. “I don’t even know if I made the right choice in coming home.”
“How could you think that?” Luna responded, mildly aghast. “In all our years, I’ve never known you to question yourself.”
“I have just committed our people to war!” she shot back, whirling to confront her sister with tear-stained eyes. “A war so vast, so terrible, so… so beyond us, that I may have just sentenced them to death! Am I not allowed to consider that there might have been another way?!” Suddenly her fury vanished and she slumped to the floor, her eyes closed as though in fitful sleep. “When I first returned,” she whispered, just barely audible, “when I first saw you and Twilight and everypony fighting for your lives, I made a snap decision. I teleported in without thinking or asking if there was another option, without even warning my new-found allies, and because of that-”
“You saved us!” Luna cut in. “You scattered the changelings and gave us time to regroup, time for your allies to enter the field.”
“Three ponies died who didn’t need to!” Celestia snapped, glaring daggers at her sister for the first time in living memory. “I could have gotten there nearly as fast. None of you were in fatal danger, there was safer transportation available, and I would have known that if I had waited even ten seconds, but instead, I acted without thinking and killed innocent ponies because of it.
“And do you know the worst part about it?” she asked, looking back to the fire. “I don’t even know who they were. I don’t know their faces or their names or even if they have any family to mourn them. I’ve never heard them laugh. I won’t see them in my dreams. They’re not individuals with hopes and dreams and regrets, not something I can mourn the loss of, just… three ponies. A number. I can’t feel anything for a number, and that’s what scares. I made a mistake, one that took lives, and there’s no solid feeling, no palpable cost. Just a number.
“I’ve seen what happens when I think of death as numbers. Just thinking about the way I acted in the years after your banishment, that aloof tyrant I became… I’m almost thankful for the yeti tribes coming down from the north, and the rude awakening they provided. Since then, I’ve taken pains to know my servants and guards.” Luna could swear she heard the UNSC ponies murmuring inside their helmets, but Celestia was too preoccupied to give them heed. “I offer their positions and rewards personally. I even meet their families and-”
“And that’s where you cross the line into ‘personally attached.’” Both princesses turned to the source of the voice, Lt. S. Johnson, but were too stunned at the interruption to offer one of their own. “You’re obviously missing the point of the ODST if you plan on getting so close to them. It’s like we told that Rainbow lady, people don’t join us, don’t jump into giant metal coffins and drop from orbit onto hordes of entrenched aliens if they want to survive. It takes a very specific type of crazy to do that: Damaged Goods.”
“Damaged goods?” Celestia asked hesitantly, not sure if she actually wanted an explanation.
“People whose experiences have rendered them unfit or unsafe for society at large,” Omar answered while nonchalantly examining his machete and the stripes of paint along its side, one for almost every color of blood found in identified Covenant species.
“Or maybe people who were never fit for it in the first place,” Martha continued. “Take me, for instance. I like blowing shit up, the bigger the better. There’s nothing that can compare to watching a space station or megascraper collapse into rubble and being able to say ‘I did that! It took millions of man/hours and billions of dollars to make that thing, and I tore it down in minutes, for pocket change!’” For a moment, her voice became slightly distant and crazed, and she took a few breaths to compose herself. “Anyway, that pretty much limited my career options to Terrorist or Military Demolitions, and the Innies have notoriously poor job security, so I joined the marines as a sapper and signed up for the ODST at the earliest convenience just to get at all of the cool toys they get. Luckily, by then I had proved that my talents work just as well on alien architecture as human. Heh, damned scarab never saw it coming…”
“The point here,” the lieutenant cut back in, “was supposed to be that snap decisions made under pressure will cost lives, and alternatives will often come up after the fact that would have been preferable to the choices made, but a war-time leader, and that is most certainly what you are now, cannot be allowed to dwell on past mistakes, and definitely can’t be allowed to let personal feelings affect decision-making. Soldiers, and especially ODST, are resources to be allocated and sacrificed as needed, and any hesitation on account of attachment is a waste of those resources that could cost more lives than acting too quickly.”
“Are we not allowed to feel for the lives we throw away?” Luna responded. “Can such selfless sacrifice not mean something to those who order it?”
“On the contrary, a leader that knows the value of a life is less likely to waste soldiers. But if you’re asking about the balance between value and attachment, I haven’t been able to figure it out either. Just know that when the time comes, you will have to send people to their deaths or find someone who can.”
If the time comes,” corrected Celestia. “The Covenant may never learn of us. After all, you’ve kept your own homeworld a secret throughout this entire war. Surely keeping safe a location that, by your own science, shouldn’t exist wouldn’t be too much more difficult. But you’re right. If I am to lead my people through these turbulent times, I can’t let myself succumb to doubt.”
Ponyville Militia Center
December 4, 2011, 11:00 A.M. Canterlot Local Time
Ponyville, Equestria

Please!”
By this point, anypony would be looking at the flat grey walls, the bland, data-chip-covered desk, even the line of ponies still waiting to sign up for a spot in the local militia; anywhere but into the golden, desyncronous eyes currently begging for the chance to join.
“No.”
Pvt. Soamns still didn’t consider himself a pony, and met what he assumed to be the mailmare’s gaze unwaveringly.
“But why?!” cried Ditzy Doo, her face contorted in misery.
“First off,” he began, fitting one of the chips into a slot on the desk and bringing up a holo-display of its contents, “from your records alone, the last thing you need is access to lethal weapons. According to this,” he gestured at the words hovering in the air, “you demolished the town center on three separate occasions by complete accident, including as you were repairing it after destroying it earlier that day.
“But there’s also the matter of your eyes.”
Most of the ponies in line began to either glance awkwardly about or scowl at Montgomery’s insensitivity, but Ditzy just seemed confused. “What about my eyes?”
“Take a wild guess,” the soldier deadpanned.
“Is it because they’re yellow? It’s because they’re yellow, isn’t it?”
After a moment, he facehoofed. She can’t be that oblivious, he thought, can she? Surely someone one this sugarbowl of a planet had the guts to tell her she can’t even see straight! “It’s because they’re pointed in two different directions!” he shouted.
“Hey! That’s part of my special talent!”
“And what would that be? Inebriation?”
“No, that’s Berry Punch’s talent,” she rebutted, pointing at an unsteady purple mare in line behind her. “My talent is not seeing straight.”
His head hit the desk with a resounding Thunk. “Out,” he mumbled around a mouthful of data-chips. When he didn’t hear the sound of shuffling hooves, he glanced up and glared missiles at the defiantly disconnected eyes staring back at him. “You are mentally and physically handicapped to the point of being a menace to society.” He stated as coldly as possible. “Leave before I throw you out.”
“Not until you let me fight.” The instant the words left her mouth, the beleaguered private’s horn flared up and ensnared her in deep-grey magic before flinging her out the door.
“Next!” Monty shouted, looking up at the wobbly mare approaching, a scowl clear on her face. “Sober up and talk to me then,” he said without missing a beat. “Next!”
He barely dodged the hoof that shot at him over the desk, and leaped at the hapless mare with an eager growl. The scuffle that ensued ended with his forelegs pinned beneath her, his horn bent to a painful degree, and his pride and soft spots thoroughly bruised. “Alright,” he wheezed. “I’ll pencil you in for close quarters! Augh!” Berry bent his horn further out of place. “Wadaya want?!” he cried.
Berry Punch simply pointed out the door, through which Ditzy Doo could be seen disentangling herself from a clay pot, and said “Marksmare.”
“Like hell I’m giving that klutz a gun!”
“Trust us,” said a brown earth pony waiting in line. “We’ve known her a lot longer than you have.”
“Fine!” he spat. “But if she accidently kills someone, it’s on your head!” With a final flick to the horn, Berry released her pin and trotted towards the door.
“Oh,” he called as he struggled to his feet, “and you’re under arrest for assaulting military personnel.” Calling up his magic to seize the purple mare, he instead achieved swimming, black-speckled vision, passing out on the spot.
Looking back at the sound of a collapsing body, Berry Punch snickered before setting a near-empty bottle of whiskey next to Monty’s prone form and entering the remaining ponies for their preferred spots in the Ponyville Militia, ‘accidentally’ deleting the footage from the security camera in the process.
Pvt. Soamns woke up later that evening, suffering from what felt like a hangover and having very little memory past watching a peculiar grey pegasus walking up to his desk. Wincing against the painfully bright light, he opened his eyes, seeing first an empty bottle labeled “Bucking Bronco ‘59,” and then a pair of boots he recognized as belonging to his immediate superior. He didn’t need to look up to know what was coming.
The charges of drinking on duty were dropped when literally no trace of alcohol was found in his system.
UNSC Guam
7 December 2551, 1400 MST
Equestrian Orbit

These humans were truly mighty within their domain. For the past week, the Nightmare had been stalking this ship, and yet it was still hiding in the shadows. The network which spanned the entirety of the craft was already occupied and heavily monitored by a spirit, one doubtlessly loyal to the humans and their cause. The crew was ever-vigilant, watching each other for any variation from the acceptable habits. Even the Equestrians who had just come aboard were kept under close observation, both by the crewmembers and the ship’s spirit. Indeed, it was almost as if they expected malevolent forces to stow away. In fact, if its goal was anything beyond simply stowing away, it would likely have been caught many times over by now.
That is not to say that it had done nothing during it free time on board. If there was one thing that it had learned over its expansive time toying with mortal races, it was that multitasking was perhaps the most useful skill ever conceived, a skill that was most certainly put to the test each time it took even a brief glance at the wealth of knowledge stored throughout this craft. Between dueling a dozen passive defenses, keeping a lookout for the many wandering eyes of “Agatha,” ensuring that nopony wandered upon whichever terminal it happened to be using at the time, and finally, actually looking at the information it had found, each insight gleaned into the humans’ capability felt like a hard-won battle. Truly, these apes were the greatest challenge it had faced since the Cerberan Empire! And those canids were among the greatest spellweavers in the history of this world, while the humans haven’t even begun to grasp at the strings. I will have to deal with them swiftly, or it may be many millennia before I can begin their fall.
Suddenly, a low hum suffused the ship. It felt the world beyond slip away, until nothing existed past the metal walls of the cruiser. It was now only a matter of precisely-calculated time before they arrived at the human fortress-world of Reach. From there, it would be a simple matter of taking control of a smaller, less conspicuous vessel in which to journey to Covenant-controlled space. Perhaps it would even take the opportunity to have some fun with whatever unfortunate souls it happened to bring along for the ride. After all, it had been such a long time since it had had a chance to partake in some good-old-fashioned torturing.

Author’s Notes: In which we learn that ODST do not make good speakers, and Nightmares do not make good houseguests, but the town drunk does make a good brawler.
Oh and that speech? I actually wrote that before the entirety of the previous chapter. Seriously, I wrote that puppy out, realized that something needed to come before it, and got about half way through what became chapter twelve before noticing that it was getting a bit too big for one chapter.
So yeah, the plot moves forward, the ponies gear up, and the Nightmare creeps closer to the means for its end. Keep watching, reviewing, and possibly spreading the word. Feedback is strength, and the more people who give it to me, the stronger I become!