001.64 Conciliatory Apothem had faithfully tended to his installation for decades. No, centuries. Or is it millennia? Oh well, it doesn't matter. The point is this is my installation. He considered the situation. Intrusion had been prevented for the entirety of the experiment's duration, and it was his job to enforce that quarantine. Interference could not be allowed.
"Explain yourselves this instant! You will not be allowed to interfere with the experiment." He demanded again after zapping Discord one more time.
"Experiment?" Twilight brightened up quickly. "What experiment? What are you studying?"
The Monitor turned and regarded Twilight for a moment. "I'm afraid that is classified."
"Are you sure? I could help; I'm pretty good with science." Twilight puffed out her chest, feeling a smidgen of pride.
"Your enthusiasm is well received, but must be declined. Protocol must not be breached. Reverse trajectory and do not return to this place."
"Oracle!" A deep voice called from behind the group. They all turned to see Rol 'Chusufai standing in the doorway to the basement. In his hand was the hilt of an energy sword, which he quickly powered down, dropping to one knee. "I humble myself in Your presence."
"Ah!" The Monitor said with pleasant surprise. "You are one of the creatures that my creators preserved. I am sure they would be pleased to know you are flourishing."
"The Gods are proud of our humble Covenant? This fills me with great pride." He rose to his feet and trudged over to the Monitor. "This monument will be protected with my life. To You, Oracle -- guardian of this place -- I pledge allegiance." He reignited his sword. "My blade is an extension of Your will."
The Monitor rolled a bit to the left as if befuddled. "Ah. Yes. Quite. If there are no further interruptions, I will return to my duties. I must insist that the experiment not be disturbed further!"
As the Monitor descended back into the depths of the installation, Rol stood tall and called out through the closing door, "Thy will be done, Oracle! It shall be so!" The door hissed shut, the symbol in the middle returned to red, and Rol stood at attention in front of it, holding his blade nearly flat to his chest.
"Rol?" Twilight asked hesitantly and stepped forward.
"REMAIN STILL!" He snarled with a step forward. "The Oracle of the Gods will not be defied!"
"UGH!" Rainbow Dash groaned and fell backwards onto the floor, waving her hooves wildly in frustration, "Why is everyone around here so crazy?!"
"Chief, wait," Cortana stopped the Spartan mid-stride.
He looked around the patch of jungle through which they were walking, but saw nothing. "Why are we stopping?"
"I just picked up an energy surge."
"Covenant?"
"No. Forerunner."
Shit. Where there are Forerunner structures and Covies, there's big trouble. "Where do we go?"
"Due West, five klicks."
Chief nodded and began to run.
Linda powered up her shields as she led the small team to the Pelican waiting in their hangar. A team of five Marines and one ex-ONI scientist made for a poor expedition crew, but with the addition of a Spartan, she thought that their chances were decent enough. She stepped effortlessly into the Pelican before turning around and offering her hand to help the others up, one at a time. She was the only one trained to fly one of these, so she squeezed herself through the doorway at the end of the crew compartment and sat down in the pilot's seat.
"All right, buckle up, everyone." She flipped the switch that sealed the crew compartment tightly. "Two for Flinching, this is Brightblade, we're all squared away here; are you ready to pull chocks?"
"Confirmed; clear hangar." Lights began to flash in the hangar and alarms sounded, signaling to all hands that the hangar was about to be depressurized. When the crew had evacuated the hangar, the mammoth metal doors in front of the Pelican hissed open. "Brightblade, you are green for launch. Happy trails."
Linda lifted the Pelican a few feet above the floor of the hangar, doing the final flight checks. "We'll be seeing you around, Two for Flinching." She hit the comms to speak to the crew behind her. "Hold on to your bits boys, here we go." She slammed the throttle forward and they lurched out through the hangar bay doors, flying toward the planet ahead of them.
The Pelican shook as they started into atmo, and Linda slowed their descent so that they wouldn't burn up. "Two for Flinching, this is Brightblade, has telemetry given us our BFR for this landing?"
"10-4 Brightblade, mark a large mountain at 46° 85' 29" N, 121° 76' 04" W; head SSE ten klicks. Energy surges were detected at 0947, investigation is prudent."
Energy surges on a Forerunner installation. This doesn't bode well. "Any signs of ... him?"
"Nothing yet, ma'am. We'll keep scanning."
She sighed quietly to herself as they drew closer and closer to their destination. She saw the mountain at the coordinates expected, but there was something unusual... there was a city clinging to the side of it, with architecture unlike anything she'd ever seen before. What's more, she could make out activity. This was a bustling city, and definitely not Covenant or Forerunner. Might be a good idea to figure out what we're up against. "Saddle up boys, we're making contact. Keep it cold, return fire only if fired upon."
Princess Luna tried her best not to beat her head against the back of her throne, but the droll worryings of the ponies that incessantly bothered her through the day were about all she could handle. She loved her subjects, really she did, but she could only listen to farmers complain about there being one inch more rain that year than had been scheduled -- and insisting on a tax break for their sorrows -- for so long before her patience would be worn down to nothing. She hoped, prayed even that something would happen to stop the boredom.
"... which is why we, the owners of the Brandy Mug Farm, feel that the esteemed Canterlot weather patrol should personally compensate for the loss in productivity resulting from their oversight."
Luna sighed. "Thy farm's area hath been scheduled for rainfall forty days out of the year, and for to recieve a total of thirty five inches of rain. Thus, thou should'st expect near an inch of rain per day of rain. In order to account for poor drainage areas, the weather patrol begineth and endeth rainfall half of an hour early and late. The extra inch thou complain'st about is the result of the weather patrol performing their duties exactly as requested. You would have us order compensation for a loss that does not exist. Begone, and bother us not with this trifle again!" The rather begrudged farm pony was led out of the hall, and Luna began to hear a faint buzz in her ears. She let out an exasperated sigh before falling in a heap out of her throne; a decidedly not-princess-like behavior. She groaned into the carpet. "This is why we doth feel these days whereupon our sister tends to outside business are so despise'd."
She couldn't really blame Celestia, though. When something comes up, it comes up, but in her sister's condition it could hardly be considered a prudent option to travel abroad. She is such a misery to be around when Winter arrives. Luna had always presumed that it was just that her sister loved being the center of attention, and the Winter days being so short just starved her ego so greatly that she had to take it out on everyone around her. Lately, though, she'd realized that the Sun was as much connected to Celestia as Celestia was to the Sun. It gave her strength, resolve, and composure. When it wasn't present, those elements of her personality were stressed to breaking point.
So, as a personal favor to her sister, she took on some more of the duties than she normally would have. More than her fair share, in fact. The guards knocked on the Court's door, and the buzz grew louder.
"Court is close'd! There shan't be any more business tended to for the day!" She called without moving her head off the rug, flailing an arm in the air to accentuate her point.
"Your Highness, apologies, but this demands immediate attention."
It was then that Luna realized that the buzzing wasn't just in her ear. It was the unmistakable sound of widespread panic.
Apple Bloom sat on her haunches, pouting. She and the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been delegated to the "extremely important" task of "staying out of the way" while the "grownups" saved the "world". Bah.
"This is SO lame!" Scootaloo groaned rolling backwards and forwards on her scooter, smacking lightly into the wall of the clubhouse with her helmet each time. "There's all sorts of action out there and we're stuck inside. It isn't fair!"
"Rarity said 'the alien's fashion senses are utterly droll' and that they'd be a bad influence on me. They're ALIENS! Of COURSE they have bad fashion sense." The other two nodded in agreement while shuffling their hooves and wings, respectively, in frustration.
"Hey, I got an idea!" Apple Bloom said with a grin.
"What is it?" Sweetie Belle's voice cracked a bit as she hopped up gleefully.
"Let's just not listen to them! We can help, we can do stuff! Best of all, we get to see the aliens!"
"YEAH!" Scootaloo cried happily. "Buck the system!"
"Scootaloo!" Apple Bloom looked shocked. Sweetie Belle fought a snicker.
"Oh. Pardon my language." Scootaloo laughed as she buzzed over to the door. "Come on though, let's get out of here!" She flung the door open and they all began to run for it down the ramp. Scootaloo hooked up their wagon to the back of her scooter and buzzed her wings. "Ready for lift-off! Come on, let's get moving!"
The other two hopped in the back, and Apple Bloom tapped Scoot on the shoulder, signaling all-clear. They were off like bats out of that place that Applejack told Apple Bloom never to talk about. After a few minutes, the road into town came into view.
"Hey," Sweetie Belle called out, pointing a hoof in the distance, "what's that?"
There was a small green dot on the horizon coming toward them, a trail of dust behind it.
"It's the alien!" Scootaloo cried happily, "Let's get it!" She buzzed her wings, and they were going full-throttle, head-on, toward the alien, which was running at a frightening pace. The other two fillies grabbed on to each other; it was too late to jump off, so they just hoped for the best.
Chief, for his part, was unaware of the three fillies on their way to intercept him. His eyes were fixated on the image of Cortana as she spoke to him through his suit's manifold.
"It was obviously Forerunner energy, but it wasn't like anything I've seen on any of the halos, or the Ark for that matter. This might be something completely new, Chief."
"We'll figure it out," he said plainly, "as long as we stop the Covenant."
"Chief, look out!" Cortana shouted. Her image disappeared from his HUD and his vision refocused to in front of him. Too little too late, though, it was. He stuck his legs out in front of him and held his arms out behind him, trying desperately to skid to a stop. The scooter, driven by a little horse with wings -- What. The. Hell. -- struck his boot and went end-over-end. The little red wagon it had been towing flew as well, and two more little horses flew along. His shields glowed ever so faintly for just a second. Piddly damage for him to endure, but probably more than those little horses were used to.
When he had come to rest, he flipped onto his feet and turned to survey the damage. All three of the horses were in a little pile next to the wagon and scooter, which seemed mostly undamaged.
"Are you all right?" He called out quietly. A series of groans came in response.
"Ugh! You tried to KILL us!" The little orange one shouted.
Far from it, or you'd be ... well. "Didn't see you there."
"We were right in front of you!" Chief offered no reply as he walked over to them. "What, aren't you going to apologize?"
Chief just tilted his head as he was trying to figure out what was going on in front of him. The other two got to their hooves, and the yellow one with a big red bow ran over to him screaming. As she got near, she whipped around and gave him a full-force buck to the kneecap. His shields flared, draining an insignificant amount, and the little creature fell face-first on the ground. He didn't budge an inch. He found his cheek curling a little as he chuckled inwardly at the filly's actions.
"You big meanie!" She shouted as she got back up.
Chief began to crouch down, until he was almost sitting on his own heels. Still, he was three heads or so above her. She looked into his visor with horror.
"Boo."
Apple Bloom screamed and ran to hide behind her two friends.
"Who's the chicken now, 'Bloom?" Scootaloo snickered.
"Where are you going, mister alien?" Sweetie Belle stepped forward with what Chief thought might have been the most completely adorable face ever devised.
"That way." He points.
"Oh." She paused for a minute to choose her next words. "What's your name?"
"Sierra One-One-Seven."
"That's not your REAL name though. That's not a good name. What's your REAL name? Pleeeease?" Sweetie Belle made what was, in her opinion, positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most adorable face ever devised. There was no way that anybody could resist.
"No." Chief said plainly.
"What?!" Sweetie Belle said, shocked. "You're a robot or something, aren't you? I bet you're a robot! Girls, don't talk to him, he's a robot!"
"He ain't a robot, Sweetie Belle. He just don't wanna tell us his name. C'mon mister alien. We don't wanna call you mister alien, and Smear-of-Seven-Seven-One just ain't --"
"Sierra One-One-Seven."
"-- SEE! Ain't nopony can remember that. We gotta have SOMETHIN' to call you."
Chief just stared. A few tense moments passed before Cortana spoke up through the speakers his suit used to transmit his voice. "Call him Chief."
"Cortana."
"Seriously, Chief, which one of us is the machine?"
"Who's that?" Scootaloo asked.
"I'm Cortana. Chief would probably want me to say CTN 0452-9, though."
Chief seethed in his helmet. She was crossing a line here.
"Why can't we see you?" Sweetie Belle said, smiling. She was eager to meet a new friend.
"I'm in his head."
A long pause passed through as Chief clenched his fists.
"So you're make-believe?"
Chief had had enough of this. He turned and continued on his previous course.
"Hey, wait!" Scootaloo called out. When he didn't listen, she picked up her scooter and pursued at full speed. She kept up just along side of him. "We just wanted to know who you are."
"I don't want you to know. It's dangerous here, you should leave." He didn't even sound out of breath. He was running so fast, though. Scootaloo couldn't figure it out.
"What are you?"
"Spartan."
"Well, Spartan, we're not going anywhere." She motioned behind her to the fillies that had, somehow, been scooped up and put in the wagon again.
"Suit yourselves."
Luna stepped out onto the balcony to find a great metal object with fire streaming from several spots floating, without any apparent magic, and coming slowly lower. The ponies below in Canterlot proper were, predictably, terrified by this new development, but Luna watched with passive fascination as it landed a short ways from her. Her mane seemed unaffected by the downblast of the jet engines, which mystified the guards around her. As the door at the back of the Pelican opened, she cocked an eyebrow out of curiosity. In front of her were seven tall, bipedal figures holding objects of varying size that Luna extrapolated were probably armaments. One of the figures was noticeably taller than the others, and clothed in vastly different garb; it was purple, angular. Obviously it was extremely heavy, as the metal object from which they all emerged bounced up noticeably when its weight was removed. Five of the creatures fanned out in a small perimeter around the metal object, and another one in a white jacket stood next to the big purple one.
Linda started to step forward to introduce herself, but Doctor Akulov held out a hand and stepped forward instead.
She cleared her throat and said without an ounce of hesitation, "Take me to your leader." She turned around with a huge smile on her face. "I always wanted to say that."
Linda shook her head, unamused, and stepped in front of the good Doctor. "I'm Sierra Zero-Five-Eight. This is Doctor Akulov, and the rest of these men are my company. I recognize our presence here might be a surprise, and I'd love to talk, but I need to know something."
"Speak, then, Sierra Zero-Five-Eight." Luna said with a small amount of apprehension, but a steely face. She had to maintain composure for the sake of her subjects, but inside, she was terrified.
"Do you know Sierra One-One-Seven?"