//------------------------------//
// A New World 
// Story: A Soldier's Rest 
// by Blazing47s 
//------------------------------//

Once again, I wake to darkness. But this darkness is different, more . . . real. The darkness before was so complete, so all encompassing. I open my eyes, and it hits me. I'm alive. Somehow, against all odds, I survived. I cannot see anything, but I feel my muscles in my face moving as I try to smile. My brain is still fuzzy, putting everything into a dream like haze, keeping me from arranging any complex thoughts. But one abounds over everything. I am alive.

With a mental snap, I realize why there is darkness. I am lying face down, and my visor is pushed down into something dark brown and soft. My body responds to my movement, slow at first. I twitch my fingers, and unlock my elbows from where they lie at my sides. I can’t move my head, but I can blink my eyes. My mouth tastes like it has been stuffed with cotton, and I can’t move my lips. If I could I would have cheered.

I'm alive.

I gather my strength, and I roll over. Instantly sunlight streams down into my face, and I close my eyes tightly with a jerk of pain as stars dance under my eyelids. My body is still sluggish and mostly unresponsive, so me trying to put a hand in front of my face just results in my hand limply smacking my chest plate. I breathe through my nose, relishing in the feeling as my chest rises up and falls back down.

I lie in that position for what feels like an eternity, my brain still mostly fogged over. Eventually, my eyes adjust enough under my eyelids for me to squint them open. Through the crack in my eyelids I catch the familiar sight of the inside of my visor. The sides and the lights on the visor are flickering, probably the computer trying to restart its systems, which would explain why my visor doesn’t darken in the sunlight. It would also explain why it was hard to move. Without the mechanical assistance, the MJOLNIR armor was incredibly heavy. Above that, clear blue as far as my narrow field of vision allows.

I still can’t turn my head, but my arms and fingers are becoming more responsive. I wiggle them to try to hurry up the process. I do the same to my toes, and am glad to know that I can still move them. I open my eyes a little bit wider, but all I can see is more blue stretch above me.

It takes me awhile to finally open my eyes fully. By this time, I have been able to open my mouth and breathe through my lips, instead of my nose. A small line of green is visible on the top and bottom of my field of vision, through the comforting dark blue tint of my visor. My fingers are almost up to normal, though the bottom half of my body is still slightly unresponsive, the weight of my armor pinning me down. The fog around my brain is mostly cleared, and memories are resurfacing, slow at first, but growing faster.

The drop, the shield. The rough landing, and exiting my pod, helping the others do the same. The run across the surface of the asteroid, entering the station. The two Grunts that I killed from behind, the battle in the control room. The parasite escaping, killing the marines. My run through the hallway, the pain, and then. . . .

I died. The thought breaks into my conscience, as if my brain is fully recognizing the implications for the first time. It shatters all of the numbing feeling in my brain, and instantly my limbs are responsive. I sit up lightning fast with a gasp and a rocket of pain that stabs me in multiple places. My foot screams with the pain, and I bite my lip until I taste blood. That’s where the parasite hit me first.

The other is my chest. It feels like something has burrowed inside and is living there, sending pulsing waves of nauseating fire up through my body. I look down, tears blurring my vision, and clutch a hand to my chest, trying in vain to squeeze out the pain as I grip my black armor. My brain dully registers the lack of damage to the chest plate, as if it has been completely repaired. 

I sit in this position, breathing hard and trying not to cry from the pain. I had been hit with plasma, with needles, and slammed through a wall on my missions. None of them compared to this. While I am here, the inside of my visor finally lights up, and it polarizes, giving my eyes a better time without the bright sunlight. No warning messages beep, and a scroll of text, blurry through my watering eyes, informs me that my armor is in perfect condition and one hundred percent charged and resupplied. Small pricks dot my body as painkillers go into my bloodstream, but they do almost nothing.

The pain doesn’t subside, even after my suit attempts to dull it, but I gather my strength once more and stand woozily, my hand still clutched to my chest. I wobble from lack of balance, but am able to stay upright. My body automatically hunches over my center as it recognizes that I am in pain, protecting my vital organs. I do a quick weapons check with one hand, discovering that I still have my Magnum, DMR, and knife in their respective places. My pack also, according to my armor, has been filled with the max amount of ammunition I can carry. I look up, craning my neck to look forward, into the green I had seen earlier.

The green is trees and grass, the perfect scene of serenity and peace. A gentle breeze rustles through the plant life, making a sleepy whooshing sound. The bright sunlight I had seen earlier reflects off of the leaves and undergrowth, revealing a path that leads into the woods. I do a quick circle, and discover more trees in every direction, making a wall impossible to see through. In the distance, birds fly over the treetops, cawing and screeching softly.

“Where am I?” I think, and turn back to the pathway. I crane my neck even farther upward, looking into the sky. Not a cloud in sight, just a sun beaming brightly overhead, and the clear blue sky. I have no choice but to follow the pathway.

My walking is halting and painful, one foot dragging behind my body as I stumble forward. I still have a hand clutching at my chest, and my back is still hunched over, my other arm hanging at my side. I make it to the entrance of the dirt pathway, and lean on a tree to catch my breath, winded and gasping from the short walk.

The pathway winds off for a couple dozen yards, before turning off to the right and vanishing from sight into the trees. I blink down the temperature inside my suit, sweating a hot from the exertion and pain. I sigh in relief as cool jets of air blast over my body.

I continue on my way, shuffling for a few yards before I have to stop once more. The path is remarkably beaten down, with not a single root growing into it or any large rocks strewn on it, as they normally would be in this type of environment. The shrubs are growing in an unusually straight way, lining the pathway, but not growing out into it.

Despite this weird plant growth, when I try to stumble the next few yards, I trip and fall. I cry out in pain as my chest and foot scream in protest, feeling like my ribcage is going to explode from the inside out. I hit hard, one arm tilting me so that I land on my side. I take shuddering breaths as the pain once again launches itself through my system.

My shout and fall have disturbed something in one of the bushes that line the pathway. The leaves rustle and something white bounds out and away from me, vanishing into the trees on the other side of the path.

A rabbit? I would like to believe my eyes have fooled me, but I got a good look at it. A rabbit, completely the same in every way as the ones I had seen on other planets. Now that I thought about it, all of the wildlife and fauna seemed eerily similar to those found on Earth. 
My visor, as informative as ever, when I blink on an option, tells me that the rabbit was indeed a species indigenous to Earth. As I look around, it tells me that lots of things were. The grass and a few of the shrubs. Even the brightly colored birds spotted in the distance. And then there were some things that weren’t. The trees were not. They are slightly off from other trees I had seen, as if too bright and colorful.

Now unnerved even more, I stumble back to my feet, hunched over in the same potion as before. I take a second to catch my breath and assemble my scattered nerves, and continue on, leaning on trees as I go.

I have walked not too far a distance, only a hundred yards or so, when I come to another clearing. This one, however, is filled with water. A small pond, about a dozen yards across, sits in the middle of the clearing. There is no inlet that I can see, so I assume that it is a natural spring. Many small streams wound their way out of the pond vanishing off into the forest.

I fall to my knees next to one side of the circular pond. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the abnormally clear and sparkling water. My black helmet and my blue tinted visor, with the same dark blue highlight running up the center of my head and down to my back.

I reach up and grab either side of my helmet. I turn it forty five degrees to the left, air hissing as it disconnects from the neck segment of my armor. I raise it off of my head and set it down in the grass next to my knees.

The small walk has taken a lot out of me. Sweat clings to my face and runs in rivulets down the back of my neck. The cool breeze is a welcome relief across my face, and I tilt my head up into it, breathing hard. The air ruffles through my short and unruly hair, a sensation that I haven’t felt in a while.

The water that my suit has been feeding my into my bloodstream is nourishing, and it serves its purpose. But it never goes through my dry and parched throat, so I dip a finger into the pond. I let my suit analyze the content, still gasping and holding a hand over my chest. My suit beeps loudly to show that it is potable, and fit for consumption. I sigh in relief, and cup some water into my palms.

The liquid dribbles through my fingers as I raise it to my face. I take a sip of the water. Cold relief washes into my throat, and I take another drink larger this time. The water runs down my chin and neck as I drink greedily. I sigh again after a few more drinks, satisfied.

I kneel in this position for a minute more, feeling the warm sun on my face. The pain in my chest has subsided after my rest, while I’m not moving, but its steady and burning ache continues nonetheless, as well as the pain in my foot. The peaceful forest is humming around me, birds chirping in the background as smaller creatures rustle through the bushes.

I grab my helmet from beside me, and hold it in the crook of my elbow as I shakily stand once more. I’m not ready to put it back on just yet, the air and slight breeze feel too good on my face. I lean on another tree near the edge of the clearing as I look down the path once more, trying to see where it would lead. It winds once more out of sight, the turns into the trees making it impossible to follow with my eyes. Out of a hunch, I click on a waypoint on my suit, getting it start building a mini-map that I could see on my visor, in case I needed to come back this way. 

I sigh, and began the short trek to where I would once more rest. I debate just staying here and setting up camp, and to try to survive here in these woods, but my curiosity gets the best of me. This isn’t any game trail; it is too wide and well worn, like it was made for larger organisms. Something has made a path here, and paths always led somewhere. If there is any chance at finding civilization, it is a better alternative that staying out here. And in my state, if some larger predator comes and tries to eat me for lunch, I am in no condition to fight or defend myself, even with my armor.

So the process continues. I walk a few yards, then stop to rest against a tree, looking farther for any hint of something other than more woods. I can’t have been walking for more than a couple hours; the sun has only sunk a bit on the horizon, not close to touching the peaks that seemed to rise in the distance in every direction. I contemplate just picking a mountain and walking towards it, using it as a goal to reach to keep myself going, but I decide against it. The path is still my best option.

This place is eerily similar to somewhere I have been before, where I first met the parasite that almost took my life and actually did take the life of my squad back on Omega-7485. So peaceful, so colorful and lively. I almost expect a Forerunner structure to start rising out of the ground at any moment.

I shove back the memories of that mission, locking them into the back of my mind. Spartan now or not, I hadn’t been back then, and the memory has been clawing at me since we first saw the parasite inside the instillation, and it would resurface eventually, it is just a matter of time. I just hope it will be when I am out of danger, somewhere where it is safe to relive my past.

And suddenly, I break the tree line. There is no warning, no edge in the distance for me to see. I am in the trees one second, and I stumble out of them the next. I nearly lose my grip on my helmet as pain wracks my body as I nearly twist my injured right foot on a root at the edge of the forest. I grunt, holding the pain back. The forest behind me is like an organic wall, rising out of the soft soil with definite purpose, a line of bark and leaves that stretches off to either side.

The path continues ahead of me, and there are still trees where I am, but they are completely different than the ones behind me. These are most definitely apple trees, and, to confirm my guess, I spot numerous red, shiny fruit nearly hidden in the leafy depths. The path is now a straight shot ahead of me, going in between two of the neatly ordered rows of trees, which goes off into the distance once more. I think I see a large black silhouette over the tops of the trees on the horizon, maybe a building of some kind. 

As I rest on the side of one of the trees, catching my depleted breath, I reach up and pluck one of the apples off with a hand. It comes off surprisingly easy, apparently ripe. I raise it to my face, taking in the scent. I haven’t had a fresh grown apple in ages, ever since I was a little kid. I take a large bite, and hum in approval as the juices wash across my tongue. I finish the apple quickly, taking the last bite before stumbling another few yards, wincing.

The adrenalin of waking up in this strange place has subsided, leaving behind a tired ache that added on top of the already wracking pain in my chest and foot. I need some sleep, and badly, which would give time for my body to heal whatever was damaged in my chest. My upgraded body is doing its best, but rest is key to a fast recovery. 

The repressed memory, taking advantage of my drowsiness, tries to resurface once again. I flinch and pushed it back once more, stopping to rest on another tree, my chest heaving. I don’t know how much farther I can walk, every step feels like fire shooting through my leg. I slump to the ground, my back on the tree, my feet splayed out in front of me. I resolve to rest here for a while, and look up at the sun, squinting in the bright light.  The sun has fallen more, and I estimate it to be about five o’clock in the afternoon. I could know for sure if I put my helmet on, but I keep it off. My guesses are nearly correct ninety nine percent of the time, and I trust my gut on this one.

My eyes start to droop, my head falling next to my chest. My drowsiness is like an ocean, waves lapping up against the feeble barriers in my mind. I try not to give in, but I sink into sleep anyway.


----- 3 Years Ago

I slam into the ground inside my pod, my new armor clanging against the metal sides. I lose sight of the window as my field of vision is thrown about. I hear muffled screams and explosions from outside the close confines of the pod, and I swallowed back my fear. I reach up and pull the lever.

Just in time too. The door flattens an Elite as he comes charging towards my pod, his lit energy sword flying out of his hand to fizzle out in the sand. All at once, the sounds of the battle hit me full on. Screaming, explosions rattling the ground, sending white sand flying into the air, speckling my armor and making it difficult to see clearly. Gunfire rattles on every side, soaring off into an unseen enemy as plasma splashes and hisses against the ground.

I jump out of the pod, my boots sinking into the soft beach. There is a loud boom and another explosion of sand, and I look to my left. Rows and rows of pods stretched behind me, most of them emptying as black silhouettes poured out, racing headlong into the waves of blue and green plasma that splashed in the sand all around us. Another ODST leaps out of the newly landed pod to my left, right into a waiting energy sword.

The blue blade slices through his chest, blood exploding outward. The blue clad Elite in front of the doorway lets out a laugh, before being jerked to the side by a batch of bullets that sent his shields sparking. Another black clad ODST, one racing past, leaps onto the Elite, and sinks his knife through its shields and into its forehead. Not wasting any time and not even bothering to wipe off his blade, the ODST leaps up and past the dead Elite to continue forward.

With a panicked shake of my head, I join the sprint with another ODST who was running past my pod, a female with red highlights along her suit. She gives me only a passing glance as we run towards the waiting trees at the edge of the beach, firing with our weapons into the foliage as more plasma rained around us.

Boulders rise out of the white sand, black and grey. Groups of ODSTs are already taking cover behind them, firing back at the Covenant just out of sight. My motion tracker pings in my helmet, and I start, nearly falling over as my foot hit a rock. I am still not used to having the more high tech helmet, and the sound surprises me.

I look at the circle for a fraction of a second, and see the mass of green dots running around me. Another line of red dominated the field not too far away. I see no purple contacts, and I wince. None of my squad members were detected.

Another ODST, SMGs in either hand, sees me faltering and waves to me. His highlights are dark purple, and he is in cover with another female ODST, their rock only big enough to shelter three people. Another person goes down beside me, glowing needles sticking out of his visor.

I sprint to the cover of the rock, ducking my head so that it isn’t exposed. The ODST with purple highlights speaks to me first as I put my back against the rock.

"New? Lost your squad?” He asks. His voice is surprisingly deep, and I judge him to be older than me. He peeks out from behind the rock, but quickly ducks his head back in to avoid a blob of plasma.

“Yeah,” I manage to get out. The ODST shakes his head as he reloads.

“It’s my second mission. Lost my squad too, they all died in the first wave,” He says grimly. He sends sporadic bursts into the trees from our position, sending pieces of bark flying. “I’m Daniel.” He doesn’t look at me as he introduces himself, his focus on the tree line.

“Michael,” I answer. From my point in the center of the rock, with the still unnamed female marine on one side and Daniel on the other, I can’t shoot or see anything behind us. The female ODST has her pistol out, a beast of a pistol, and is firing at specific flashes she sees through the tree line. Her dark green highlights are dull in the bright light.

“Tracey,” She says unexpectedly. “My first mission as well, squad all gone.” Her voice is slightly shaky, and I am impressed that she is holding up so well. I am still a little shell shocked myself.

There is another explosion from the tree line, and the ODSTs who can see give a roar of triumph. One section of the forest has been set ablaze, and burning Covenant stumble out into our fire line, and are shot down.

The battle for Delta Halo has begun.

----- Present

A thwack thankfully wakes me from my dream. I jerk and hit the back of my unarmored head against the trunk of the tree I am still sitting next to. I nearly swear as I realize that I had fallen asleep without putting my helmet back on, but I keep myself silent. There is another thwack sound, and I swivel my head in that direction. The sound is off the path to the left, a little ways away. The cause of the thwacking noise is hidden by the rows of apple trees.

The pain in my chest and foot have subsided slightly, and I stand with a little less difficulty that before. I lean my back against the solid tree as I raise my helmet to my head. My helmet hisses quietly as it attaches to the neck armor. The lights inside my helmet wink on instantly as the visor falls once more in front of my eyes. I am slightly regretful to do it, as the reprieve from the helmet had been welcome. 

I grimace as I see the time on my visor. I had been sleeping for an hour, and the sun is touching the tips of the mountains on the horizon, the golden rays of sunset starting to peek through. Anything could have stumbled upon me in that time, I am just lucky nothing had.

Still holding one hand to my burning chest, I reach down and grab my Magnum in the other, holding it at a downward angle in front of me. The motion tracker in my helmet confirms my suspicions; something is to my left, about twenty yards off the pathway. The dot is orange, my armor telling me that it didn’t know if it is a friendly or enemy creature. I limp to the other side of the pathway, watching as the orange dot gets closer to the green dot in the center of the circle, which is me.

Another thwack sound, this one louder than the others, comes again as I make my way into the trees. The shadows have started to lengthen, and I try to stick to them as much as I can, my dark armor blending in. The orange dot on my visor is not that far away now, the shorter distance confirmed by another thwack. It sounds like something hard hitting the bark of a tree, accompanied by many other smaller impacts that I hadn’t been able to distinguish before.

I am about to peek out from behind my tree to try and catch a glimpse of the creature, when it speaks, and I freeze in my tracks. 
“Whew. Just a few more trees left an’ I’ll be done,” The voice is definitely female, and it is speaking perfect English, if with an exaggerated accent. Whoever has spoken seems to be tired, but content at the same time. Some part of the back of my brain links it to the way I had heard farmers talking back when I was a boy.

I blink in confusion under my visor. I had expected to find some kind of species harvesting the apples in the trees, as this was obviously a planted orchard, but I didn’t think they would speak English, or have the same accent as the human farmers I had seen before. There is another thwack, and this time she counted.

“One, two, three four an’ five. That’s the rest of y’all,” She says. There is the sound of wood creaking and another heavier thump. I peek out from behind the tree, thinking that the creature’s back would be to me.

I immediately put my head back to where it had been, my eyes wide. My mouth opens as if to say something, but I close it again without making a sound. I blink heavily a few times, and then look back around the tree.

It is certainly a unique creature that I have never seen before. It is similar to an animal that I have seen before, but with many key differences. It is a quadruped, standing on four legs. It has a horse-like body, with a long neck and large ears that stick straight out of the top of its head. Its colors are totally bizarre. The orange dot on my motion tracker has been ironically fitting, as it is the same color as the creature’s coat. Its mane and tail are braided in a ponytail, held together with two red bands at the respective ends. The hair is the color of fresh straw, and it has a worn brown Stetson perched on its head. 

It stands about almost to my waist, maybe that tall at the tips of its ears. It is actually surprisingly cute.

And its eyes. They are huge, way too disproportionate to be normal, just adding to the cuteness, and the strangeness of its appearance. They take up most of its face, with large green irises that seemed to glow. It has a small rounded muzzle, which is cracked into a smile, revealing white teeth. It is similar to a pony, in a weird sort of way. It is standing next to a large wooden cart, with many baskets full of apples.
“What?” I mouth the words as I retracted my head back, looking upward at the sky. “What?” I mouth again. This makes no sense, and my brain is struggling to come up with any kind of logic to explain the situation, or the evolution that gave birth to this creature. I shake my head in disbelief at what I have just seen.

The orange pony walks over to the tree I am hiding behind. I have no idea how its hooves still made that ‘clop’ sound in the grass, but that is a minor detail for my brain at the moment.

“Last one,” She says cheerfully.

My head shoots up as the implications of what she just said hits me. I look down at my feet and notice a few things that I hadn’t before. Brown woven baskets are placed around the tree in strategic locations, corresponding with the apples that hung on the branches above me. The pony is somehow making the apples fall off the tree and into the baskets, where she will gather them and put them into the brown cart I had seen.

I swallow. I am going to be discovered. I can’t run away, I won’t be fast enough to escape detection in my injured state. As if to serve as a reminder, the pain in my chest hikes up another notch, and I wince, gripping my armor tighter.

I could just shoot her when she comes around the tree and saw me. It would be the best plan strategically, at this point. But I know I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t live with myself if I killed something that cute without provocation. I am out of options.

There is a loud thunk and the tree shakes, leaves swishing from the force. I keep my balance while I am leaning on the tree, swaying. The apples in the branches above come falling down, landing in the baskets on the ground. One of them hits my helmet and bounces off, and I catch it in my hand out of reflex, the one not holding the pistol.

The female pony begins to count, like she did with the previous tree. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,” She pauses. “Where’s number nine?” I drop the apple a little too late, realizing that I am the reason she had gotten curious. My pistol hand inches back upward, but I hold it down, and put the weapon back into its holster as a way of ending my internal argument.

I hear the walking noise again, coming from around the trunk. She is coming to the back, where I am hidden.  I look over, just in time for something orange and green to pop right next to my visor.

The pony’s ears are perked up with curiosity, her green eyes curious. She spots me in an instant, a small squeak coming from her mouth. She looks right into my visor, her eyes widening and ears falling flat on her skull. There is a moment of complete silence as we look at each other, both completely still.

And then the stupidest thing that could have possibly been said in this situation comes out of my mouth of its own accord.

“Hi.”

The pony lets out an earsplitting scream.

With surprising agility, the pony turns and sends a pair of back hooves rocketing towards my visor. I dodge my face out of the way, and the strike intended for my head hits the tree instead, sending leaves raining down onto both of us.

I back up a few stumbling steps as the pony screams again, and another buck, this one aimed for my chest, comes at me from the orange pony. My eyes widen, and I take a step to the side, but not fast enough. My injured foot trips me up, and I am too slow to avoid it.

The back hooves don’t hit me full on in the chest like they were supposed to, but they both clip me as they sail past. I only have a moment to admire how strong the strike is before pain erupts all over my body as I go stumbling to the side.

I open my mouth to scream as my vision blurs, but something bubbles out of my throat instead, chocking me. The orange pony has backed up in fear again, watching me warily.

I gag on the fluid in my throat, and start to panic as I can’t breathe. I fall to my knees, and rip off my helmet desperately. I cast it a few feet away in the grass, still gagging as my body is wracked with shudders of pain.

My chest heaves and something red and liquid spills from my mouth onto the front of my armor and the grass. I spit out the rest of the blood, taking in ragged breaths and still holding in my screams. Blood trickles down my chin as I breathe. Something feels like it has smashed inside me, and is stabbing into my lungs, making it near impossible to get air through my throat. It feels like I am starting to drown, even in the air.

I put my palms flat on the ground as I cough and sputter, more blood falling onto the grass. I only catch a glimpse of the orange pony that bucked me, but I can see that she has taken a step closer. Her expression is still wary, but she is eyeing the blood on the ground in fear. I go back to hacking, still struggling to breath. The edges of my vision are starting to fuzz even more, giving me a sort of tunnel vision. 

“Are y’all okay?” She asks slowly. “I didn’t mean to hit ya’ that hard.” She had taken a step closer, but she is making sure to stay out of arms reach. 

I manage to speak through the blood in my mouth. “Not you,” I gasp, and point a blood stained glove at my chest. “Broken rib. Stabbing into my lungs. Can’t breathe.” I hack out another glob of blood onto the grass.

“What?” The pony says in alarm. This time she does take another step in my direction, into arms reach. She doesn’t seem to notice.
“You need a hospital!” I look at her again, blood dribbling down my chin as my chest heaves. I nod weakly. Apparently they have hospitals here, wherever this is. Thank goodness. Without proper medical treatment, I will probably be dead soon.

“Thank goodness Twi’s here helpin’ out today,” The pony says to herself. She looks at me again, her eyes narrowing with determination. “I’m gonna’ go get someone who can help ya’. You stay right here, and make sure to not die while I’m gone. You got that, alien, er, whatever ya' are?”

I nod once again, breathing heavily. I feel like I can’t get enough air into my body. My suit is trying to pump me full of painkillers, trying to do what it can about the internal injury, but it isn’t helping much. The best it’s doing is pumping blood into my system, keeping me from dying from losing all of it. I have seen men and women die from this kind of injury before, and it was never pretty or painless. I won’t be going anywhere.

The orange mare (I feel safe to classify her as such now) nods stiffly and goes galloping off, her hoof beats loud and urgent, disappearing at an impressive rate. As she turned to go, I saw something that I hadn’t noticed before. Three bright red apples sit on her flank, making a triangle. They all look almost exactly the same, as if someone has tattooed them there.  

I stay on my hands and knees after the mare gallops away, nearly crying from the pain and gasping out more fluid as blood begins to fill in my lungs. But this feels more than a broken rib and a punctured lung.

The pain in my chest has tripled, and is now echoing through my entire body, as if it were not confined to only my torso. It is pounding in my brain, as if banging a hammer on my soul. Or, whatever is left of one at this point.

The grass around my hands and knees gradually turns red. I have lost track of time, but I look up weakly when I hear a pair of hoof beats running in my direction. I haven’t moved from my position behind the tree, and I can’t see who it until they come around the trunk of the tree.
It is the same orange mare from before. Her coat is slicked with sweat, her stetson slightly damp and starting to fall its perch on the top of her head. Her green eyes fill with relief in seeing my kneeling there, still not dead.

There is another pony with her. This mare is purple, with a dark blue mane and tail. Each has a purple and pink highlight running down the center. Her eyes are a slightly lighter purple color than her coat, and they widen when she sees me. This is not what catches my attention, however.

Unlike the orange mare, who looks mostly like a horse, with no extra features, this pony has two. First of all, two purple wings are coming out of each side of her body, which are folded so that they rest against her sides. I can see the purple feathers inside them, each looking nearly identical to the rest.

She also has a unicorn horn, sticking out form the top of her forehead. The purple horn comes out of her mane, and rises a few inches before coming to a dull point. I can see that it has a spiral motion in it also, a single line going upward and around the whole thing.

I cough once more, but this time more in surprise at the purple mare’s strange appearance. Was she a unicorn or a pegasus? I couldn’t tell, but another glob of blood forcing its way through my throat brings me back to my priorities. 

The purple mare quickly looks at the orange one. Her voice is also female, but thankfully it lacks the accent. “I’m going to teleport it to the hospital,” She says. I can’t bring myself to feel offense at the term. Had the roles here been switched, I probably would have called her an ‘it’ also. The horn around her head suddenly begins to glow purple, a flickering aura of color.

I jerked back in surprise as the orange mare nods. There is a bright white flash, and I was torn from reality. I pass out and fall into darkness. And for the second time in as many hours, I dream.

----- 3 Years Ago

The beach is secure, at great cost. The bodies of ODST are strewn about, lying in the sand. The black pods are still where they fell, some still steaming. The remaining healthy ODSTs are doing what they can to help the injured.

I hiss as the needle punctures my cheek. A marine medic, one of the many landed on the beach by Pelican after the LZ was secure, keeps my head firmly in place. Her armor is white, with a large red cross on the center of her chest plate. After slowly pulling the needle back out of my skin, she puts it back into a case lying next to us on the sand, and she pulls out another.

“That Elite got you good,” She says, making small talk as she slides the needle in another spot on my face, this one right next to my right eye. I breathe out slowly, and then answer as the needle is pulled out.

“Got me as I came around a tree. Blade went right through my helmet and visor.” I answer, remembering the flare of pain as the energy sword went flashing though the skin on my face.

“Well, the engineers have put another visor on your helmet, and repaired the cut, so it’s good as new. You can pick it up as soon as I’m done,” The medic answers, her brown eyes still on the cut that is now clotting and starting to close, thanks to the fast acting medication she gave me. It runs from just above my eyebrow almost down to my chin, and it will leave a large scar. “Just one more,” She says cheerfully, sliding another needle into my face.

“Thanks doc,” I say gratefully, clapping her lightly on the shoulder as she slides out the needle. She smiles as she puts the last needle back into her box. She picks it up with on hand.

“Just doing my duty soldier. Try not to get cut up any more, alright?” Michelle says as she turns to go. She is the new medic that has been assigned to me, Tracey, Daniel, and another squad. Seeing that the three of us had lost our old squads, they had put us into one together.

I wince and prod the area around my jaw with a finger, noting the soreness. It will hurt to blink with that eye for a while. I stand from where I have been siting cross legged on the ground, sand falling off my legs as I get to my feet. I pick up my DMR from where it has been lying on the ground, dusting off the fine layer of grit that had gathered on it.

I walk through the sea of pods, watching as white clad medics treat to numerous wounded. The rest of the ODSTs that are not injured are gathered in squads not too far away, chatting, but they all keep one eye on the forest. I look over to the ocean side of the beach, where more ODSTs are casting the dead bodies of the Covenant into the ocean currents, to be carried off. No need to waste resources burning them. 

Beyond the field of pods, where they have room enough to land, are the row of Pelicans that carried to medics and engineers down to the surface. In front of the large green space/air craft, which all have their doors down so that the green clad marines could unload cargo, a base camp is already starting up. White tents that have been erected in the sand house all of the communications to the UNSC In Amber Clad high above, letting them know the situation.

Here is where I find the first member my new squad. Daniel is sitting on a crate of ammunition, his helmet off and his forearm exposed. Another male medic, because Michelle is busy already, has just finished wiping a plasma burn on the inside of Daniel’s arm with some kind of healing ointment. Daniel grunts his thanks to the man as he re-attaches the section of his armor, standing with his helmet in a hand.

Daniel and I are about the same height. Despite him being older than me, I actually might have a quarter of an inch on him, now that I get a good look at him. He has dark brown hair, and hard green eyes. His face is marked with numerous small scars from battle, something that I am sure accompany my own large scar on my face now. His skin is actually tanned, contrary to common knowledge, as is all ODSTs. To keep up our levels of Vitamin D, we run in ultraviolet lights every morning that mimic the sun. His expression is hard and stone-like, but I detect a hint of humor in his eyes as he sees me approach, my helmet in the crook of my elbow, where it is most comfortable.

“Michael,” He greets me simply, and we clap forearms firmly. His grip is strong, his hands strengthened from years of hardship.

“Daniel,” I nod back. “I guess we are a squad now, huh?” I smile slightly, but stop when the cut on my face stings.

“It would appear so,” He rumbles back. “Along with Tracey, the sniper.” We release each other’s arms, and turn together to walk back into the sea of pods to locate out new member. “Where you from?” He asks me.

“Reach,” I say simply. “Lived on a farm.” Emotions surge, but with practiced ease I push them back down. Daniel nods in sympathy, and claps a hand on my shoulder. I nod in thanks to acknowledge it. “You?” I ask back.

“Earth, actually,” He says. I look at him in surprise. His eyes hold more than a hint of pride at being from the mother planet. We continue to make small talk as we weave in and out of the pods, keeping an eye out for the elusive third member of our new squad. Now that the medics have treated most of the patients, those with minor injuries and burns that needed attention, most of the ODSTs are setting up a perimeter near the camp.

I can see some of them digging a large trench about a foot into the tree line, heaving the dirt up on the other side to start construction of a low earth wall. Some of the other ODSTs are constructing sniper positions, which are being raised into the trees behind the new line of trenches. The last few are continuing to unload supplies from the landed Pelicans. As I watch, a green dot in the sky continues to grow larger and larger, solidifying into the shape of another Pelican. With the roar of engines it lands, sand whipping about under its bulk. The door on the bottom slowly slides down onto the ground, and a few more people walk out.

We finally find Tracey carefully doing what every ODST does in the morning. Weapons maintenance. She has placed a mat down on the ground to keep the pieces she has taken off from clogging up with sand. Her pistol is already re-assembled on the mat, the huge side arm shining from its recent polish. 

Her sniper lies in many small and numerous pieces, carefully ordered and in certain position in the mat. Tracey has her helmet off, like most of the ODSTs, with a rag in her hand as she lovingly wipes and checks each and every individual piece of her weapon. Her helmet is lying on the mat next her pistol.

She looks up as she hears us approach, finishing on one piece of the sniper and moving on to another.