Peace and Isolation

by McKnight93


Ch. 6.2- A Green Beginning

Chapter 8 (part 2)

Resurrection
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"Comparing the Master Chief to an Astartes is like comparing me to a Guardsman. His skill, speed, intelligence and sheer luck puts him far beyond any Marine. I dare say that, if we had a thousand of his kind, the Imperium would be free of enemies within a century." -Captain Longinus, Ultramarines

"Only the strongest will survive.
Meet me in heaven, when we die.
I am the Shadow on the Wall.
I'll be the one to save us all."
- "Blow Me Away", Breaking Benjamin

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So the time had finally come. Fortifications were arisen, armies were mobilized and the makeshift armada was all set. Only one thing was left to obtain. The Ace in the Hole.

Celestia and Luna were really pulling to set Discord free. Adam, however, was not so enthusiastic. Besides the fact that many ponies had negative associations with the Draconequus, the Emperor wanted to keep him in reserve; keeping the big guns safe until a real need arose.

In truth, there was only One individual to summon. The hero of the Haloverse, the Redeemer of Trixie and Gilda. The Iron Casket, The Reclaimer, The Demon. The Greatest Spartan-II in existence.

John-117.
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Day 6 of Equestria War
Canterlot Vaults

The recovered contents of the Forward unto Dawn were finally brought up to light, as its guns, vehicles and technology was being distributed among the various Equestrian armies. All the various militaries of this world had arrived two days before; warbands of griffons, entire clans of Diamond Dogs, and even the mighty Horde, a dragon-led mercenary company filled with minotaurs, buffalo, zebras, and the various other scattered races.

There were, however, two distinct items withheld from the joint coalition. In Vault 046, the alicorns gathered up the blue chip and the Chief's petrified container. With a quick pulse of magic, the Princesses teleported themselves and their collected items to the Road not Taken, which was parked over Canterlot. Apparently, all UNSC and CAR ships were made okay for atmospheric entry...
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1130 hours

Docking Bay of Road not Taken

An anxious crowd of spectators, both of crew members and various Alliance soldiers, gathered in the hangar bay, waiting for the arrival of the fabled hero. The equines, Imperials and Spectre team were rather impressed from the stories the troops told them. Saving the galaxy twice? That was a mighty accomplishment, even by Warhammer standards. Not an unbelievable achievement, but still enough to stand out in the crowd.

And the AI Cortana? She had been debated fiercely among the various members of the Admech. Some simply believed her to be an Abominable Intelligence. Others considered her to be some form of machine spirit, like the AI EDI on Shepard's ship. And some- including the Magos- upon learning of her creation, believed her to be the final form of Machine and Man, a true blessing of the Machine God to all humanity. Either way, everyone in the Mechanicus would eagerly watch her for signs of heresy or "rampancy".

When the alicorns reappeared in the hangar bay, many important figures were there waiting for them. Trixie and Gilda had accompanied the Mane Six, with some desire to thank him for all he did in their lives (even if he was asleep during that time). Cassius and N'tho were there, but kept a distance behind Vasquez. Shepard and most of his team were also present, along with Longinus, Faber, Kriel and their associates.

Everyone was here to see the fallen heroes rise.

Quickly, Celestia gave the Cortana chip to a technician before she joined her sister in "unstoning" the cryo pod. The technician then inserted it into a localized hologram stand, where he tapped into the necessary commands to reactivate the hibernating AI. The techpriests were made to keep their distance, but still gave prayers and chants of binary and High Gothic- no harm in invoking the blessings of the Omnissiah.

Deep inside the realm of cyberspace, programs were being reactivated. Streams of data were pouring in, crucial functions waking up to process it. In the span of a few commands and nanoseconds, Cortana had returned to full operational capacity.

A hologram appeared above the projector, displaying a blue-colored female with short hair and fair... assets. Shepard could hear Jack murmur "Nice rack," as well as various "oohs" and "ahhs" from other troops and ponies. Obviously, the ponies were impressed because holograms are cool, whereas everyone else was... well, impressed by the "hologram", shall we say.

Cortana looked around, and herself momentarily disoriented. She was no longer in the derelict Dawn, but in the hangar of a newer ship. Furthermore, she found herself surrounded by various kinds of unidentified human and alien races,as well as the usual ex-Covenant kind. But, as odd as this was, at least she wasn't lost in space, with Chief still frozen and her slowly going rampant.

"This is Cortana-model AI service number CTN 0452-9." She spoke, surveying the onlookers. "What have I missed?"

"A lot, ma'am." The technician said. He tapped in a few commands on the keyboard, which downloaded all important intel from the last 17 years, as well as what had been recently gathered over the past two weeks planetside. This was all processed within three seconds.

"Hmm. I guess you guys have been busy while we took our little nap." She turned to Trixie and Gilda. "Speaking of which, I believe I owe you two thanks for salvaging him, and not tossing me in a garbage bin."

The griffon and unicorn bowed. "It was nothing." Trixie said humbly. "Really, you should thank the Princesses for safekeeping you and the Spartan. They were the ones who turned the pod into stone."

"Good thing, too. After you disconnected him, the pod has only 24 hours before it shuts down. Hopefully, your 'petrification' spells- huh, that sounds weird just saying it- worked, and John should be in fighting shape in no time."

When the the alicorns finished their spell reversal, technicians and mechanics quickly reconnected the pod to a life-monitoring system. All signs read normal, and it appeared as if they were set to wake him up.

"Little bit of advice for the non-humans in the room," Cortana warned, "You may want to step back a bit. Last time an alien came up to Chief after he took a nap, he put a gun in the Arbiter's face."

"Oh, we remember that." Vasquez told her, leaning on a Ghost casually. "The video footage of that, and everythin' else that yuh did back then, have been shown in every classrom and barracks in civilized space. And yes, everyone here has their guns unloaded and safeties on."

"Isn't that a bit redundant?"
"Maybe. But do yuh want to risk him goin' crazy and shootin' someone?"
"It woudn't really matter. He could kill most of you with his bare hands anyway."

Alan shut up after that. There was only so much they could prepare for. The only thing left now was to wake him up, and hope he didn't get damaged...
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For the first time in a long time, John was dreaming.

He found himself standing in a vast wasteland, the bodies of humans, aliens and flood stretching out as far as the eye could see. The armor he wore was so drenched in blood that it was no longer green, but a macabre mixture of blue and red and orange. The Spartan wasn't one to let such a sight get to him, but he could sense that there was something very wrong with this place.

Looking up, he found himself looking upon a massive mountain rising from a lake of blood. This mountain, he could see, was actually made of various types of skulls- many of them human, but many more belonging to all kinds of alien bodies, most of them unrecognizable to him. On top of this mountain was a monstrous multi-limbed creature. Its image eluded him somehow, instead taking the forms of the enemies he had fought in his life- Insurrectionists, Elites, Brutes, The Prophet of Regret, even the Gravemind itself.

The monstrous creature gazed down upon the Chief, and smiled. It spoke to him- not through words, but through images and impressions. This entity- which called itself "Khorne"- had observed his long career, and was impressed. It was very rare that he came across a warrior of such caliber and skill.

Khorne tried to entice the Spartan. He gave promises of great power, enough to bring down even the mightiest of foes. The aliens would be humbled, the Flood extinguished, and all humanity would bow before him as the ultimate fighter. All he needed to do was swear his allegiance to the blood god, and the galaxy would be his.

John countered by saying he didn't fight for personal gain. He had only ever fought for others- For humanity, for the UNSC, for his fellow Spartans, for Cortana. He would never sell himself to a freak calling itself God, and he would never betray everything he held dear to him.

The blood god laughed. His bravery was admirable, but his arrogance would soon be eliminated. Upon Khorne drawing his sword, hundreds of gigantic red daemons were summoned, and quickly charged. Chief drew his gun, and calculated how best to escape-

Suddenly, three tremendous bright lights broke into the gloom, blinding the false deity and burning his daemons. John looked up, and gazed upon the figures coming to his rescue. Above the wasteland, two winged unicorns- one light, one dark, both in armor- strode in side-by-side with a giant in golden power armor, swords raised high and lightning streaking from them.

"John," A voice rang out, ringing with power and righteousness, "Awaken from this dream. The lands of the living has need of you once more. Upon your duty to humanity and her allies, upon Earth and her colonies, we summon you. We beg you... Chief, wake up!"
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"Chief, wake up! I need you!"

The Master Chief opened his eyes for the first time in years. In front of him, Cortana was floating above her pedestal, and the cryo room... wasn't the cryo room anymore.

"Cortana," He spoke, his voice hoarse from non-use, "Where are we?"

"We're onboard the Road not Taken." She explained. "The UNSC sent a couple of ships to reclaim us. And when they did, there were some... 'developments'."

"What kind of developments?" He pressed as he opened the manual locks on the pod. "Covenant show up again? Or is the Flood here?"

"Actually, its neither of those. Quite frankly, its so out of left field that I've yet to form an opinion on it."

The pod door opened, and the supersoldier climbed out. "What, exactly?" The AI pointed behind him, and upon turning, Chief saw a menagerie of humans, aliens, supersoliders and... Whatever the hell those equines were. The Spartan tensed up, immediately preparing himself for whatever the aliens had in store for him.

One of the UNSC officers stepped forward. "Chief," He said, "I'm Captain Mark Brogan, commander of this vessel. I know this all may be a bit confusing, but-"

"How long was I out?" John asked, getting straight to the point.

"Its been 18 years for us," He explained, "But for you locally, its been three."
"And how long have we been working with these guys?"
"With the Covenant, since about two years after you went asleep. With everyone else, about a week. Kind of a 'marriage of convenience', to be honest."

The Spartan relaxed, and looked at all the other faces in the crowd. They were appraising him, just as much as he was appraising them. Some- like the equines and the civvie-looking types- didn't look all that skilled, nor particularly threatening. Others- like the cyborgs or the giants- looked more battle-hardned than anyone outside a fellow Spartan. Speaking of which...

"How are the Spartans holding up?" Cortana brought up, practically reading his mind (hell, she spent most of her life inside his head).

Everyone in the room looked at the people of Halo. Appearently, in the past few weeks they had been on Equestria, no one had ever mentioned that there were Spartan programs, or that 117 wasn't the only one around.

"There's more people like him?" Rainbow Dash quipped, having been silent along with everypony else.
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Officially, about a dozen IIs and IIIs, a lot of IVs."
"And unofficially?"
"Unofficially, its none of your buisness."

Dash growled, but remained silent. Good thing, too, as Brogan wasn't sure if he was allowed to reveal the Spartan IV project, let alone Project S-V. After all, the biggest reason brass allowed this mission to begin with was so that ONI could find some way to contribute to the new project.

Turning back to Sierra-117, Brogan explained, "Of the IIs, Fred, Kelly and Linda are still alive. Scientists speculate that Jorge may still live, but nothing has been recovered yet. Of the IIIs, Admiral Jun and Agent 'N-6' are the only ones that are common knowledge."

Chief nodded, somewhat grateful for that knowledge. He had feared for some time that he was the last remaining Spartan in existance, especially after the Battle of the Arc. Knowing that his brothers and sisters-in-arms were still alive gave him a little bit of peace. But since they chose to wake him now, rather than back on Reach or Earth, indicated that they needed him for a mission.

"What's the situation then?" He pressed. "You wouldn't have woken me if you didn't need me."

"Right. And, as fate would have it-"

The Captain was inturrupted by the wail of sirens. "Alert," The announcement warned, "Multiple energy spikes detected. Energy fluctuations recognized as 'Warp exits', reporting 763 events and counting."

Kriel, who was communicating with Captain Lema and psyker Guitierra, gave a metallic sigh. "Well," He reported, "It appears that the war has begun."

"What is it?" Shepard asked. "Chaos?"
"Not that bad."
"Flood?"
"...Think greener."
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The Ruinous Powers, for all their devious natures, are beyond clever. Tzeentch, through his own abilities and the visions of the great Kairos Fateweaver, detected the presence of the other worlds, and their respective invaders. The Flood was dangerous, and the Reapers already had a massive army before them.

But neither of them were trickster gods like the Changer of Ways.

If the Chaotic Champions were to succeed in their mission, the "coalition" would have to be distracted and weakened beforehand. While the others certainly fit the bill, Tzeentch wasn't one to hedge bets. He knew just the appropriate distraction.

A race that thrived on war. A race that loved to fight and put boots to asses. A race that, according to one ODST, "...are like a case of herpes; they're irritating as shit, and never go away."

Truly, no one expects the Orks.
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In Space
Between the Sun, Moon and Mass Relay

The Ork WAAAGGH! fleet came out of the warp as they always do- eager to kill something. It was a massive fleet, easily in the thousands. Many of its soldiers could proudly claim a lineage going back to the original orks of the Armageddon wars, and were some of the toughest in existence. And they were led by who would later be considered the "Orkiest Ork who ever krump'd a humie".

Warbozz CurbStompa.

Staring out the view-screen, Curbstomp gazed menacingly upon the tiny world, with its strange sun and moon and big 'ole blue gun (It needs moar dakka, He thought).

"Hey boss," A gretchin reported, "Dere's some strange stuff on dat planet."

"Wot kind o' stuff, git?" The Warbozz demanded, cleaning his favorite sword. Slice n' Dice, as he called it, was a Hyperphase blade pried off the cold dead hands of a Necron Overlord, dispatching it after a three-day fight. It represented all his might as a Warbozz, and had taken many lives in his life.

"We's got a humie ship," The gretchin reported nervously, "But we also gotz tre' o'ter ships there too. And the star and moon, dey's goin' 'round da planet."

"Who cares 'bout dat?" The Bozz snapped, pointing his sword at the baby ork. "What's dis ye said 'bout strange ships?"
"I says what I meant, boss. Dere's humies, spacey marines, an' mo' 'unknown' races than we can shake a sword at."
"Oi, you watch yer tone! I can shake me sword at whoever I want!"

CurbStompa looked at the scanning reports, the most advanced piece of tech Orks have on their ships. In orbit, there were four ships; one was Imperial, the others were smaller and different. Planetside, there were humans, astartes, and a dozen or so races the Ork had never seen before. It made him think- as well as an ork can think.

"Oi," He declared, "By Gork and Mork, dees' blightas 'ave nevah been seen by Ork eyes! Do ye kno' wot 'dis means?"
"No, boss."
"It means that dees' po' gits ain't nevah had a propah krumpin', dat's wot. Dem blighters need ta git demselves an edacatin' in fightin', and we Orks are jus' the ones da do it!"

He grabbed a conveniently placed microphone, and declared to the entire fleet, "Oi, we're in luck, boyz! Down there's a planet full o' whiny gits just beggin' fo' a propah krumpin'! And wez jus' the onz ta do it! Why? 'Cause wez da Orkz, an' its wot we do!
WAAAAAAAAGH!"

The roar of "WAAAAAAAAGH!" rang proudly throughout the makeshift fleet, and meteors and dropships rained down upon the alien planet. The Green Tide had just arrived.
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Appleoosa, Equestria
Forward Base Bingo

In the San Palomino Desert, most of the Alliance's heavy machinery was spread around the many rapidly established FOBs, manufactured curtesy of the Road and Judgement. The UNSC-CAR forces were augmented by the Imperial Fists, Guardsmen and a commandery of Adepta Sororitas (though they were Order Hospitaller, serving as medics). Some troops were even training the local ponies and buffalo tribes in modern combat, creating militias.

Often times, however, since there was no immediate fighting going on, all groups involved could just get together and shoot the breeze, as was demonstrated here. Towards the edge of the base, two ponies, a dragon and an ODST were talking next to a Pelican.

"Ay, have you guys heard about Daring Do?" One pony- a blue crystal unicorn pony, no less- asked the group, his red cape blowing in the wind. "Word is that Celestia commisioned her and her posse to head north and get the Crystal Heart before things pick up. She's got a whole team of mercs with her, even a diamond dog with magic claws!"

"Are you sure about that, Mixer?" Another unicorn- a dark red one named Burning Heart- countered. "I mean, Daring isn't racist or anything, but you'd think she wouldn't have a dog come along. They aren't very smart, and rather hard to get along with."

"Diamond Dogs aren't bad." Heart's dragoness assistant, Spines, snapped. "My parents came from the City of Fortitude. That place had dragons, diamond dogs, griffons- every nonpony race outside of Equestria. My father told me that the dogs there were the most well-behaved and loyal creatures he ever met. If Do actually does have one of them with her, she'll be in luck."

"Hold on a sec." Lt. Connor, the ODST, interrupted. "What's so important about the 'Crystal Heart'? What does it do?"

"Its a device," Mixer explained, "That's powered by the love and happiness of the crystal ponies, which then spreads it across Equestria, and keeps evil at bay. And having spoken with the Imperials, they have shown great interest in it. Considering the dangers of what we'll be going against, I'm not surprised."
"Yeah, but I don't think you should believe everything they tell you. I mean, their galaxy can't be that horrible, right?"

"Hey," Heart pointed to the sky, "Is that a meteor shower?"

Everyone looked up, and was dumbfounded. Above them, dozens of fiery streaks were racing across the sky, coming down from a flotilla of tinker-toy looking spasceships. A massive fleet, that practically blocked out ths sun.

"Huh, look at that." Connor pulled out his SMG. "Remember this day, folks. War has come to town."

The meteors- which they could see were the size of the modern drop pods- crashed all over the desert, impacting mesas and ravines, smashing apple orchards and bases. One such rock smashed 500 yards away from them, making a small crater.

"Quick, get your weapons!" The unicorns pulled out DMRs (Equestrians were all given basic weapons training), while Spines drew a Covenant Carbine, and all of them aimed at the meteor. On the radio, the UNSC and CAR troops were confused, not knowing the nature of the attack. But on Imperial channels, one warning rang loud and proud:

"Emperor help us, its the Orks!"

From the meteor, dozens of giant, green monsters came rushing out of the crater, wearing little to no armor, armed with everything from guns to robot arms to even swords and axes. Their eyes and faces were permanently set into one of bloodlust.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" A mindbending roar rang out, causing ears to bleed and communications to shut down. All across the desert, the greenskins charged, shooting randomly, slashing randomly, going into a war-orgy as only the Orks can.

Over at the Pelican, the ponies and dragon shot at the horde, aiming for the heads (as they were "trained" to do) while Connor got behind the shuttle's turret gun, and let loose. Training was decent, to say the least- but there's only so much you can do in five days. So, while they aimed for eyes and faces, they often hit the shoulders and chest, or hit the Ork behind them. The machine gun did a number on them, but it took a lot of rounds to bring down even a couple. Plus, they were shooting back, covering for their bretheren with swords.

They had to get out of there, ASAP.

"Spines!" The human called out. "Take the turret!" The dragoness jumped to the gun, and Connor ran back to the cockpit, starting up the engine. Every ODST, like every Spartan-IV, was trained to operate every vehicle in use today, even the mighty Elephant and Mammoth. Good thing, too, as the horde was almost on top of them.

As the "pilot" turned on all the final switches, a stray bolter round went into the craft. It struck the ceiling, causing a panel to fall off and strike Mixer in the head. He could hardly get out a "dammit" before he fell unconsciously to the floor.

"Bastards!" Burning Heart shouted, using his pyromancy to summon a fireball, and launched it at the horde. Surprisingly, it kinda worked, as some of the Orks did catch on fire, and began firing randomly from the pain.

The engines roared, the Pelican lifted off the ground, and the Orks got roasted on afterburners as they took off. Spines shot out a few parting rounds as Heart checked upon the unconscious crystal pony. Connor was picking up distress signals and reports from all over the continent- Appleoosa, Manehattan, Fillydelphia, even Neighagra Falls up north. These "Orks", as the Imperials were calling them, had brought in an invasion fleet well before any other contenders.

"He'll be fine," Heart announced, wrapping Mixer's cape around him like a blanket, "He a small cut, a concussion maybe. He can be treated when we reach Alpha Base."

Spines giggled to herself. She felt positively giddy after firing the heavy machine gun for the first time. Dragons- especially female dragons- love heavy firepower. "It looked like blasting and roasting them did the trick." She gloated. "If somepony could make flaming bolter rounds, I think we'd be set."
"I don't get it. They just rushed at us, ready to kill. No introductions, no announcements, no attempts to talk. Just straight up rush'n slash. What type of creature does that?"
"Don't worry about it, Heart. I'm sure the humans have some fancy weapon or device to stop them."

"We got one better, jack!" Connor declared from the cockpit. "I'm getting word over secure channels- it was all over the airwaves before the invasion started. Sierra-117 is awake, and he's getting deployed!"

"The 'Galactic Savior'?" Spines asked. "Huh. If even half of what you guys told me about him is true, those green guys will be crying for their mamma in no time."

"Let's just hope it works." Heart murmured, watching the desert below become a battlefield. Now, for better or worse, the Great Equestria War was on...