//------------------------------//
// Banshee on the Horizon 
// Story: Halo Ponies: Headhunter Edition 
// by QuintupletPony 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 2: Banshee on the Horizon

The gentle, hovering sound of death: That’s what greeted Richard as he waited for his mysterious host to come above-deck. The sound, of course, was that of a Banshee-- not the phantom predictor of death, but similar enough to set Richard’s nerves on end. He whipped around to face it. Its blue hover trail was clearly visible against the night sky. A Banshee against a single SPARTAN III armed only with a pistol… it wouldn’t have been fair if there were ten of them. 
He could still hear the person coming up from below-deck. Just how long was this staircase? In any case, he needed to stop her from coming into the line of fire; a single bolt of plasma from a Banshee’s cannon would sear the flesh from her bones, leaving a charred skeleton in her place.
“No! Stay down there it’s dangerous up here!” he screamed. He heard a pause in the odd footsteps.
“What kind of danger!? Is it a sea serpent!?”
Richard stopped what he was doing for a moment, caught up in the pure ridiculousness of that question. He deemed it unworthy of a response; instead he began scavenging the deck for anything he could use as a weapon, cursing himself for not doing so earlier. He looked up at the Banshee again, now close enough to make out the shimmery purple hull. Richard noticed a dark cloud billowing from it, blocking the stars behind it. It was damaged and smoking. So damaged its weapon systems wouldn’t work? He would only know when it got close enough to fire.
That time was now. The Banshee fired three shots at the ship, two going wide while a third hit, setting the mast alight with its heat. He heard the girl scream as the ship rocked from the impact. His immediate thought was to ignore her, but having a frantic civilian onboard could be a problem.
“Redheart, I want you to stay absolutely calm; panicking could hurt you and others around you!” Richard yelled, wishing she was close enough that he could keep his voice down.
“O-okay… but what’s happening?!” Redheart called from below, her voice collected but worried.
“We’re under attack by a Covenant Banshee; do you have any weapons onboard?” The Banshee decided it was a good time to fire again, letting out another trio of blasts as it swooped low over the boat. These attacks were much more accurate, two of them landing inches from Richard. The deck was spared being set aflame, as the two bolts weren’t enough to get the wet wood burning. 
“Weapons? I think there might be an old harpoon somewhere on the top deck!” Redheart responded, the panic in her voice replaced by confusion. Richard wondered for a moment why she would be so confused. They were under attack! Of course they would need weapons. 
He crawled over to where several boxes of cargo were stacked, searching through them as thoroughly as he could in such a short time. The mast was now creaking and popping as its supports gave way. Richard would deal with that as soon as he dealt with the Banshee. Hot pieces of wood rained down on him. His insulated armor blocked most of the heat, but it was still uncomfortably hot. 
Just as the Banshee was turning for another strafe, he found it: a medium sized harpoon gun, looking like it had just come out of a museum. Could this relic really take on a Banshee? But now wasn’t the time for just questions! He turned to face the Banshee, which was now flying towards him. He raised the harpoon to his shoulder, bracing part of its length on the railing of the ship, waiting until he could land a direct hit on the already crippled craft. Without warning, the Banshee accelerated. A green ball of energy shot from its fuel-rod cannon. Richard ignored this, aiming the harpoon for the Banshee’s remaining anti-matter pod. He fired. 
The harpoon struck true, ripping the pod from the wing and sending the Banshee careening towards the freezing sea. Richard had mere seconds to act before the fuel-rod blast reached the ship.
The blast was just above the ship now and rapidly descending. It was then that the mast gave a final creak, ripping away from the deck as its base was burned through. Richard, ignoring the heat pervading his armor, threw himself at the mast, gripped it, and tipped it to the side so that the blast struck its upper section. This spared the ship, but Richard was not as fortunate. The massive shockwave that raced down the ruined mast hit him full-on. His life was spared only by the force-reactive gel that lined his suit; even so, he was brought to his knees. His grasp on the mast failed, causing it to tip into the sea and vanish beneath the waves. The unnatural green fire of the radioactive blast still burned as it sank. Richard noted with satisfaction that it struck the Banshee in its descent, knowing the pilot wouldn’t be getting out. That was the last thought he had before, like the Banshee, he sank into the darkness of oblivion.