//------------------------------// // Nothing But Trees // Story: They Call Themselves Spartans // by Cadet Sparkle //------------------------------// 5 Hours before "Griffin" Confinement, Princess Celestia “Princess, princess!” said one of Celestia’s Royal Guard, running through the throne room. That didn’t sound good. “Status report on the ‘dispute?’” she asked as she sat up straight on her throne once the reached her. Celestia struggled to keep her eyes open. Where was Luna when she needed her? Celestia had been awake for about 20 hours and it was way past her bedtime . Once the stallion guard stopped in front of the princess, he bowed his head down and lifted it back up. “The creatures! They've slaughtered 20 of my men!" That couldn't be possible, they were just two animals; they weren't even as big as manticores! Celestia kept a calm posture. "And where are they now, officer?" "Th-they escaped, into the rooftops," the guard looked down, "I-I'm sorry, Princess. They were too powerful for us. First there were 3 of us, then 7, then 20, all going at them. All of them dead, u-under my command. Th-there was blood everywhere, I’ve never seen so much--" "I will forgive you," Celestia interrupted, "describe the beasts' appearances to me." There was a chance that said beasts weren’t mindless and predatory, but intelligent. She didn’t blame somepony such as this stallion with the amount of death he’d seen. With the exception of the Changeling invasion, in which nopony actually died, most of the Royal Guard and Army hadn’t actually experienced the horrors of battle or death. "One of them was bigger than the other. It was blue, about your height, and had these four mandibles on its face," he said, "a-and the smaller one, it was green and didn’t even have a face, it carried a knife and shot two pellets with some kind of projectile launcher. It had a symbol of a griffin on it. It killed most of my stallions... i-it was like the shadow of death itself--" Celestia’s ears perked up at the name griffin. "Griffin?" she interrupted, "are you sure of it? The Griffin Empire is a nation not to be trifled with. That is why I have signed a peace treaty with them 500 years ago." The guard hesitated, then spoke. "Yes princess, I-I’m sure of it. The griffin was the most recognizable feature about it. One of my men reported to have seen a group of unfriendly looking Griffins outside of town; said they looked like mercenaries." This was the time to take action, griffin relation or not, Celestia had to find and stop them before things got worse. "Gather 11 of your best pegasi and tell them to wait for me here. I will inform the other princesses of the news." "Yes, ma’am!" the officer guard said and was off. What started as what Celestia thought was a small dispute to be handled by the Guard, turned into something worse. Present Time, Twilight Sparkle Twilight let out a yawn and rubbed her eyes with her hooves as she lay down comfortably in her bed. She looked at the clock that read 5:00 A.M. Finally, she had earned more than 5 hours of sleep after a week of staying up late every night and doing princess “duties”, which was mostly just paperwork. Spike had a habit of waking up around that time; something she could never understand how he did it. She really didn’t feel like getting out of bed. The temperature had started to cool down in Ponyville soon after Autumn started. The Alicorn smiled. The memories of staying warm and snuggly in the library while reading books or something else of her liking made her feel great inside. Then the memories of her coronation flooded into Twilight’s head. Princesses didn’t get those kind of luxuries very often, and she sure as Tartarus didn’t get those luxuries either. Being royalty wasn’t the greatest thing for her in the world at that moment. Sure, she could fly with Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash and have military authority over the Royal Guard and have ponies bow down to her, but it just wasn’t the same as being Celestia’s personal protégé. In a sense, she liked it better when she didn’t get so much attention. With the new responsibilities she had, Twilight could hardly do anything fun with her friends anymore. And she was the princess of friendship. Some princess she was. Celestia probably turned her into an Alicorn just to make her feel better about all the accomplishments she’d done in the past years. It was as if Celestia gave her more work than what she already had. Twilight sighed and looked up at the ceiling. At least I still have my friends, she thought. Friends. Instantly Twilight remembered what day it was: picnic day. All feelings of worries and doubts left Twilight’s mind. It would be like a small vacation with her friends from all the stress during the past few weeks. They were going to eat and play games and just talk. Nothing was going to stop it! It was going to be so much fu-. “Twilight, Twilight!” Spike shouted as he burst into their living, making her jump. That got her out of bed. “What is it?” Twilight asked, “please tell me you didn’t burn another one of my books to crisps.” “What? No!” Spike exclaimed as he came forward as he held a scroll and trembled, “Princess Celestia sent me this around 12 o’clock this morning. You’re going to want to read it. It’s really serious business.” Twilight grabbed the scroll drowsily from her assistant with her magic and unfolded it. The scroll probably contained some news about the dignitaries visiting for the ceremony in the following weeks. Twilight struggled to keep her eyes open. Thoroughly and carefully, she read the scroll, eyes opening wide and slowly forming an expression of disbelief. She couldn’t believe it. Spike wasn’t lying. It was serious business. Very serious business. “Griffins?! Twenty-seven guards dead?!” Twilight cried out as she continued to read Celestia’s letter, “Spike, why didn’t you wake me up when Celestia sent you this?” “I-I didn’t want to wake you up!” Spike said, “it seemed like you needed the sleep. And I’ve literally just read the letter minutes ago, I didn’t know it’d be that important!” Twilight ignored his reasoning and started to pace back and forth around the room past Spike. There hadn’t been a mass killing since… forever! If what Princess Celestia said was true, and the Griffin Empire was indeed attacking, then that meant possible war; something a place as peaceful as Equestria didn’t want or need. Especially during a time like that. Maybe she’d have to play some kind of important role. After all, Twilight was the princess of friendship; maybe she’d have to negotiate them? She wasn’t even sure about her duties anymore. And from what the letter said, there were two mysterious and lethal creatures who tried to assassinate Celestia. Apparently, they were in league with the Griffins and were on the loose somewhere in Canterlot. Griffins who were born in the Griffin Empire were much more different than Equestrian-born Griffins. Twilight couldn’t risk it. The number of the Royal Guards in Ponyville had to be increased case there were more of those creatures. Twilight truly felt awful. How was she going to tell her friends that she had to cancel their picnic because of the situation? Something as big as that couldn't be ignored. Compared to picnics, war was out of question if she had to choose what kind of event she would ignore. "Twi, I have a feeling you’re gonna want to look at this," Spike said, looking out the window which was next to Twilight’s bed. Twilight moved towards Spike, heartbeat rate starting to increase as she did so. "Please tell me it's a good thing." "Oh… heh, I think it depends," Spike responded with a nervous chuckle. Once Twilight reached the window and looked out, she gasped. How did she not notice that? Tons of Lunar and Solar Guards of the E.U.P marched from the train station to the front of her library and seemed to be going into a company formation. From the looks of it, they were forming 4 platoons; two of them seemed to be composed of Celestia’s Guard, and the other two were being formed by Luna’s Guard. Twilight knew here was no reason for the Princess Luna’s infantry and guard to be there, unless they planned on being there for a while. And with the addition of about half of a battalion of the Royal Guard being deployed to Ponyville, she knew things were about to get serious in the not-so distant future. Unlike the Changeling attack that happened a few months prior to that day, Twilight predicted that Celestia would be deploying troops in most of the towns in Equestria to keep watch of the Griffins. She couldn’t imagine how many of the Royal Guard would be deployed to Manehattan. Twilight didn’t blame the princess; the Changeling invasion in Canterlot did cause her to create new forms of safeguards to make sure something like that would happen again. And honestly, Twilight didn’t think another invasion from another nation would happen so soon, that is if the Griffins were actually invading. “Should I be worried about that?” Spike asked with a hint of nervousness in his voice. What could she tell him? He was just a baby dragon; nopony, or dragon, didn’t need to know about the horrors of war, even if he was 13 years old in pony years. “Just… try not to think about,” Twilight finally looked responded after a few moments, “Celestia said she wasn’t 100% sure if the Griffins are actually attacking. This is probably just new protocol for the Guard. I’m sure everything will be fine and be sorted out.” “I sure hope so,” Spike responded as he continued to look outside. Twilight looked down again and saw a guard standing in front of the front door. His armor was silver and his helmet had on a red-colored compared to all of the other stallions standing at attention in the formation, who had blue or white colored crests instead. “That must be the commanding officer of the battalion,” Twilight said, “I’m gonna go downstairs and find out exactly why the Guard are here. It seems like he wants a word with me.” Spike answered with a nod. At least he knew when it was the time to be serious. Then again, he was starting to become mature for his age. Of course, there was the occasional joke here and there, but not as many as when the two came to Ponyville. Now that Twilight thought about it, the Griffins may have been the one thing that could take away the feeling of boredom from Spike. Sure, the sound of it was very wrong, but she could understand why the situation would make him feel lively. Not many exhilarating things happened, besides the refounding of the Crystal Empire. She even heard the crystal ponies built a statue of Spike! Twilight had to see that for herself in her free time. Not wanting to feel the anxiety of walking down the stairs while trying to figure the officer’s reasoning about why the Royal Guard was in Ponyville, Twilight sighed and lit her horn up. Instantly, she teleported from her initial position to the front door. Teleporting, in her opinion, never got old. Twilight hesitated to open the door as she figured out what she was going to say. Who knew she would go from writing friendship reports to commanding half of an entire battalion of the Royal Guard? She’d only just studied drill commands and basic leadership skills for about a week with her brother and two other officers of the Guard before she became bored with it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it; the military just wasn’t for her. The only reason Twilight even studied it was because princes and princesses needed to be skilled in being military leaders. The Alicorn breathed in sharply, then exhaled and opened the door. She was greeted by the cold morning breeze and “Ma’am, Second Lieutenant Obsidian Shield of the 25th Regiment of the Protective Pony Platoons, reporting as ordered,” the officer said and saluted. “As ordered”? That must have meant he was in fact deployed by the Guard, or even Celestia and Luna themselves. A brief moment of awkward silence passed. “Ahem,” the Lieutenant said as he kept his salute up. It took Twilight 5 whole seconds to figure out what she was supposed to do. “Right. Sorry,” Twilight said, feeling embarrassed. Twilight stood at attention and held her hoof up as a salute until Obsidian put his hoof back down. This just made Twilight feel even more anxious than she already was. “Oh right, umm… stand at ease?” Twilight asked. At the command of execution, the guard stood at ease, hooves not as tense as before, and looked at Twilight who did the same. At least she did something right that time. “Are you in charge of these two…” Twilight paused and looked past Obsidian, “companies?” “No, ma’am,” he responded, “I’m only second in command. I’ve only graduated from Officer Candidate School just recently. Captain Delphinium of the Lunar Guard should be here shortly.” That explained why he didn’t look much older than she was. Then again, Shining Armor did apply and graduate from Officer Candidate School as well. Twilight scratched her left forearm. “I’ve received the letter Princess Celestia sent me. I’m so sorry for those dead stallions. Did you sort everything out? Are you here because Celestia and Luna want better protection?” Lieutenant Obsidian thought for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. “We resolved the problem. From what I’ve been told, we’re holding them in Canterlot dungeon in the ‘containment’ cell until further notice.” Twilight sighed, feeling relieved that those two creatures were captured. Nothing could escape the containment cell. “But,” Obsidian said as Twilight tensed up again, “we have reason to suspect that the Griffins or maybe even more of those animals will strike again very soon. All of us, including the Lunar Guard, are here on behalf of Princess Celestia’s request; I can assure you that we won’t fail you or the other Princesses if they do attack. That brings me to my next point: you, Princess Twilight, are needed in Canterlot immediately. The Captain says it’s very crucial you come alone.” Twilight knew that she’d be needed in Canterlot sooner than she thought, but why alone? Her friends were the exact reason why she could even solve any friendship problems. That’s when Twilight realized, it was no “friendship problem”. It was war, and ponies were going to die unless she helped to stop it. “Then I’m off for Canterlot. When you fall your men out, please make sure they take care of Ponyville and its residents,” Twilight responded and waited for his response, “please?” “I...yes, ma’am. The residents of this town are in good hooves, I assure you,” Obsidian Shield responded. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Twilight responded, feeling a bit relieved. She hoped he was right. If two creatures could kill 27 guards and mortally wound 4 more, she didn’t want to think about how many a group of them could hurt. She only hoped her friends didn’t get involved with them. Swiftly, both ponies saluted each other. As Obsidian Shield performed an about face and walked back, Twilight shut the door. She made extra sure that both locks were locked. At least that was out of the way. Now for the next hard part: travelling to Canterlot to talk to two murderous creatures. She hoped she could still retain the privacy of her own home; Twilight didn’t feel comfortable with a guard standing at attention inside a library, where nothing exciting happened, and doing nothing. She looked out the window at the many ranks the stallions formed, thinking of the pros and cons that she’d have with somepony guarding her home. Spike suddenly laughed out, breaking the alicorn’s thought chain. “Nice goin’, Twilight.” “Thanks,” she responded, looking “...hey, can you do me a huge favor? You said you wanted to be useful: here’s your chance… my #1 assistant?” “Of course, anything!” Spike exclaimed. It was nice to know the dragon was desperate for something to do. He seemed so down lately. If Spike was happy, she was happy. “Great! I’m sure you’ve overheard the news from 2nd Lieutenant Obsidian Shield in the kitchen?” Spike responded with a nod, throwing a single gem into his mouth. “I want you to gather the rest of the girls and bring them to Sugarcube Corner. Tell them about the recent news and make sure they’re aware of what’s happening,” Twilight said firmly, “oh! Also, make sure they don’t follow me. This is potential war, not a minor friendship problem. The Elements of Harmony can only do so much before they get hurt themselves. With the amount of stallions stationed here, they’ll know how serious this really is.” Spike nodded again. “Got it, Twilight. You can always count on me.” “Perfect. And Spike?” she asked, as he was about to walk back upstairs. Twilight sighed, trying not to let a tear fall from her eye. “Tell them to continue the picnic without me. If anypony has to be stressed, it should be me. I’m a princess above all things.” Spike hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. Slowly, he walked back up the stairs. If anypony has to be killed, it should be me. Matt-G210 “Hey, on your feet, Spartan,” a hushed and familiar voice said, waking Matt up. He could feel half of his body laying down in cold water, making the Spartan feel somewhat cold. Almost all of his visor was covered by dried mud, and could only see darkness with a few hints of light from the corners of his SPI helmet. The only functional part of his HUD was the entire left side which showed how many grenades he carried, which was none, and the left side of his targeting reticule. There were small cracks on the right side of his visor which interfered with his weapon gauge and health tracker. Without even thinking, the 17-year old clenched his right fist and thrust it up with tremendous force towards where he thought the voice was standing, lifting up his torso. Immediately, Matt felt a hand catch his fist with a tight grip and with that happening, he instantly threw his left fist up. Matt had a feeling he punched his captor in the gut, making them stagger back a few feet. “Ugh...what the hell, Matt,” Skylar groaned and clutched her gut. Did he really hit her that hard enough to feel the punch through her armor? Matt jumped up on his feet and held his helmet at his side tightly. He felt the water floating in parts of his armor flow down from it. He looked around at his surroundings; was he in... a swamp? It was very dark and gloomy, the trees looked nothing like the ones he saw on Victoria, the water he was standing in was murky, and it smelled awful. He saw 4 of his Spartan comrades sitting and standing and looked as if they were checking their ammo and making sure each other were alright. One ODST looked either dead or unconscious. “Shit, sorry,” Matt responded as he stood up from the water, “I was still in the ‘zone’. Are you alright?” “Ha. Good job, Matt,” Ocaen chuckled, sitting against a tree a few feet away from him, “you hit a girl.” Matt ignored Ocaen and walked toward her to see if she okay. He was pretty sure Skylar could handle a blow to the liver; it wasn’t like she hadn’t been hit there before by another augmented Spartan. “Are you alr--” quickly, Skylar punched Matt’s face with her armored glove, making him tumble to the side on the ground and dropping his helmet. He held himself up with his hands and knees in the mud and exhaled heavily. Matt’s vision was blurry and his ears kept ringing as he fell to the ground. Even though he couldn’t see clearly at the moment, he knew everyone stopped whatever they were doing to look at the scene Skylar had started. Slowly but surely, the Spartan’s vision was coming back to him. Gently, he felt the left side of his upper lip with his glove and put it in front of him. Matt’s eyes were filled with amusement as he stared at his glove; there was blood on it. Skylar indeed made a small split on his lip, which stung a lot after he found out it was even split. “That? That was for hitting a higher rank and for hitting another Spartan,” Skylar responded as she now stood in front of him, “now get up. We need to figure out what the hell happened to us.” He could hear her mumbling curses as she walked off as he continued to stare at the ground. He chose not to get back up and engage her in even more hand-to-hand combat, mainly because he didn’t want to challenge the sworn trust between all of the Spartans in Gamma. “They’re my family, we always hit each other,” Matt kept telling himself quietly. That made him feel better… or did families normally use physical force against each other to show dominance? He’d have to ask the ODST, assuming he wasn’t dead. He looked back up at Skylar who seemed to be questioning Logan-G265 and Garrett-G111, two of the other younger Spartans from third squad, about their wounds and anything else about what had recently happened. At least they hadn’t stared too long. Honestly, Matt didn’t understand why they used their first names instead of their last names. It sounded more professional that way. The Spartan stayed in his stance to catch his breath when he found that another Spartan came up to him and held her hand out to him, still fully clad in her SPI armor. “C’mon,” she said, “don’t take that hit to heart. I think she’s just peeved we lost him.” Crewman Orion-G215. Even though was about 15 and a half years old, she accomplished much more during training than he did and had more control. He was surprised neither she or Skylar denied the chance to stay behind on Onyx and compete for top honors in Team Xiphos. He didn’t even think Team Xiphos made it to top honors after most of its members denied to compete. “It’s fine, Orion. But,” Matt sighed, “we really lost him then, didn’t we?” Matt could start to remember exactly how Jericho met his fate, as he grabbed Orion’s hand. It was the evening when all UNSC personnel deployed in New Birmingham received a radio transmission from the UNSC Desert Heat, saying that their sensors picked up several Covenant hovering low above the city. The Covenant were most likely going to perform a low-range bombardment of the city. Matt and Jericho were the last two Spartans to board the D77-TC Pelican dropship which was tasked to recover the first, second, and third squads of Quebec Company’s 1st platoon. The two Spartans sat across from each other at the last two empty seats in front of the rear entrance as the Pelican started to lift off the ground. Already sitting in the “blood tray” were the remaining members of the 3 squads, which mostly composed of Spartans. Most of the ODSTs in the three squads had been killed while helping out multiple groups of civilians. It had truly been a rough day. A Spartan from third squad was shot in the head and presumed “MIA” after the joint squads requested an immediate convoy after gathering a large group of people. Though none of the Spartans showed it, the ODSTs knew the loss hit them pretty hard. Watching someone die who Matt trained with for 9 and a half years wasn’t exactly the best experience. He’d have to get used to that soon. Everyone looked outside at the buildings as their Pelican flew up from the buildings. Matt could barely see the outline of one the Covenant carriers just a few kilometers behind the Pelican, as well as fire and smoke coming from the taller buildings. There was complete silence, save for the humming of the Covenant ships, as each of the pelicans flew away from all the lives the 105th and Spartans couldn’t save. Quebec company alone helped evacuate about 1,500 people and there were about 20,000 people who were still in the city as the rest of the 800,000 left on their own. Matt looked at down at the entrance to the Pelican and realized that there was no hatch or anything else to conceal the blood tray. “Pilot,” an ODST asked in a loud voice over the electrical hum of their own dropship, “where’s the hatch?” “Covies blew it off with fuel rod cannons, so you may wanna hold on to something,” the pilot of their Pelican said. Matt was going to say something, then sighed and remained silent as everyone else did. He was positive this mission was a fail; something he didn’t look forward to when telling other Spartans about his first deployment. Matt looked up at Jericho, who was looking outside as he clasped his shotgun in his hands. His SPI armor was covered in Covenant blood, and the energy sword slice on his helmet made by a cocky elite before it was shot down and killed. It had to be from all that unnecessary close-quarter-combat he’d been doing ever since he offered to clear out a building. Jericho’s knife seemed to be his most prized possession, and it was only issued to him weeks prior to the deployment order. The female Elite sitting next to him, who Matt didn’t quite trust yet, seemed to have zoned out while looking at Jericho. She looked as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get it out. “Jay,” Matt said as Jericho looked back at him, “nice job down there.” “Thanks,” Jericho responded plainly, “you too, I guess.” “Hey, look,” Garrett pointed at 3 battle cruisers as the Pelicans reached 500 feet. Matt grasped his MA5B Assault Rifle tighter in his arms in frustration as he looked at the bottom of the Covenant ship which started to emit a purple light. He was about to get a front seat view of the beginning of a mass genocide. This was something not even a Spartan could watch without feeling the least bit disturbed. Matt found the Human-Covenant war comparable to The Book of Deuteronomy of the Christian Bible, as Gamma’s academic program briefly touched on the topic. Like the ancient Israelites, the Covenant were destroying everyone and everything, including their cities. Because what? Humans were unworthy of their religion and were actually worth the Covenant’s time to attempt to eradicate for over 25 years? Or was there a bigger reason behind these glassings? Matt didn’t get religion, neither did he like it. And now aliens were still kicking humanity’s combined ass because of the bullshit the prophets believe in. Perfect. “They’re glassin’, that’s for sure,” Ocaen said, standing up to get a better view. He walked over briskly to the rear of the Pelican and held onto a handle bar as he looked outside. “This brings back a lot of bad memories,” Ocaen said, breaking the silence of the group once again. “We shouldn’t be running,” said Private Webb from third squad, “not like Reach.” “Hey,” Garrett said, “we’re not running. We’re leaving to live another day.” Jericho stood up next to Ocaen and watched as they flew farther away from Chandler Plaza, then looked to the other Pelican dropships to make sure they were alright. The Spartan took his armored rucksack off and attached his tactical shotgun behind to his back, which made a magnetic sound followed by a slap after doing so. He gave the rucksack to Logan, who then rummaged through the inside of rucksack for water. Immediately, a narrow beam of plasma that was as red as blood shot down from the ship’s energy projector. Matt could see a skyscraper be demolished by the plasma beam, slowly turning it to dust. It was the loudest thing he had ever heard. He could even hear the combined sound of civilian’s screaming and cries down below. It was amazing to see how quickly the the destruction of a single city went. “Don’t feel too bad, Spartans. At least we got out ali-” Sergeant Miller said, being interrupted. “Break-break. Control to Pelican teams: callsign Royal Stallion and callsign Broodmare, over.” Skylar chuckled. “What’s with the horse related names?” “Royal Stallion One, OK, over.” “Royal Stallion Two, OK, over.” “Royal Stallion Three, OK, over.” Each of the Royal Stallion and Broodmare teams continued to say their callsign, to no avail. It didn’t seem like control could hear their frequency. The speaker sighed and continued. “Are you receiving this transmission, over? Acknowledge that we are detecting a Covenant slipspace rupture. Desert Heat claims that this carrier will be making a slipspace jump due to an emergency, but we don’t doubt the fact that it may be an accident. The thing is, we don’t know what will happen to the other cruiser’s power cores as they glass the city. If you don’t make it back home fast enough past the blast radius of the rupture, you’ve all done well. Brace… brace for impact. Control out.” Matt didn’t like the tone of the speaker’s voice. It sounded a lot like a ‘farewell forever, we’re leaving you behind since we can’t stay here for too much longer’. “Accidental slipspace rupture?” Orion asked, “during a low-range bombardment? Imagine how much hell that’d bring to New Birmingham.” “This is the perfect time to test the question ‘what happens when an enormous EMP blast from a slipspace rupture occurs at the same time a Covenant cruiser shoots out a powerful burst of plasma energy with the power equivalent to several nuclear bombs?’” Matt responded. “Matt,” Orion said bluntly, “there won’t be anyone who’d care when that carrier jumps.” “Well actually, I’m curious to see what happens. You don’t see something like this occur very often,” Private Jackson chimed in. Matt remembered that ODSTs were ‘normal’ humans, and ‘normal’ humans in the military joked about a lot about death and apparently. Was it some kind of coping method? “Not helping, Marine,” Orion said back. “Sorry,” he responded silently. “Hey, we don’t know if our birds’ are gonna get hit or not,” Jericho finally spoke, “Vaya, your race were the ones who designed the newest models of Covenant carriers. Do you know how large the blast radius of an EMP event from a slipspace rupture would be?” The Elite lit up at her name, as if she we were already willing to help the fight against the Covenant. “E-M...P?” she asked in an unknowing manner. Jericho sighed. “Electromagnetic pulse. It’s a type electromagnetic burst that causes electrical equipment to lose power which then damages th--” Suddenly, Matt could see a very bright and bluish hole form up in front of one of the cruisers, which seemed to contain nothing but the void upon looking inside of it. That must have been the ship making a jump. Ocaen quickly walked back to his seat as Jericho turned back around to see what everyone else suddenly looked at. For some reason he didn’t sit back down and instead stayed standing, watching in amazement...or at least, that’s what Matt thought he did. He couldn’t really tell what Jericho’s facial expression looked like. Like a bullet, the carrier shot into the depths of subspace, leaving a spherical shape of the electromagnetic pulse as soon as it was nowhere to be seen. A loud rumble could be heard as the blast moved past a cruisers that was in the middle of glassing. Surprisingly enough, the plasma energy projector of the ship was still turned on even though it slowly fell down toward the city. Matt’s eyes grew wide with surprise and anxiousness. The sphere of EMP was moving faster and growing larger by the second. There was no doubt the EMP would shut down all of the Pelican dropships as well. The only thing the Spartan could think of was close to his eyes and to keep a steady breath . They were already between 900-1000 feet in the air; he tried not to imagine what a fall like that would be like. There had been too much falling that day, and one at that height would be Matt’s last fall. Matt opened his eyes again and saw that the huge pulse had already engulfed 4 other Pelicans who had already lost power; one Pelican crashed into the other while the other two were spinning uncontrollably to the ground. The Spartan’s heart beated faster. The pulse was just mere meters away from touching their own Pelican. What surprised Matt the most was that no one, including himself, screamed or said a word as, if they already accepted their fate. A nearby explosion from a skyscraper caused Jericho to quickly cover his visor with one of his arms, then put it back down. Matt couldn’t think of any reason as to why he didn’t sit back down. Something about this pulse was different compared to how his Spartan instructors described a slipspace rupture; could it have been from the 3 other Covenant cruisers glassing at once? Matt watched as the pulse came closer to their Pelican until it basically swallowed them whole and spit them out. The blood tray lit up as the Vaya’s shields started to flicker until they were completely gone and for some odd reason, the Elite’s shields didn’t recharge. Matt assumed it was due to Elite minor shields being weak. “We just lost power,” Logan said. He wasn’t lying; the hum of their dropship had definitely stopped, and was replaced with the sound of continuous beeping and a flashing red light. “Everyone, hang on!” one of the pilots screamed over the radio. Matt heard a miniature explosion from one of the engines on the Pelican, causing it to fall and whirl around as the two pilots tried to get it to work again. He could hear the air whistling around his ears as they continued to fall. He watched as Jericho kept a tight grip on the handle bar. But alas, not even a Spartan could defy physics. At first, Matt thought the spinning of the Pelican was too much for the Jericho and he let go. He was wrong. With his enhanced strength, Jericho had actually managed to pull the steel handlebar off of the side of the Pelican, causing him to fly up and hit the ceiling. To Matt’s relief, Jericho quickly grabbed onto a rocket launcher hanging nearby. He flailed around helplessly as everyone watched but couldn’t do anything. The young Spartan let out a loud grunt as he held on for his dear life. Matt probably would have made a grab for one of his limbs himself... if he could reach him. If he let go of his own handlebar, he would surely fall out of the Pelican before his comrade did. Finally, he let go of his assault rifle, which flew toward the front of the Pelican. That was when the Elite did the unexpected: she grabbed Jericho’s hand. Hesitantly, Jericho let go of the rocket launcher as Vaya stood up from her seat to pull him in. Matt was surprised she could even stand on her own. Jericho would have been saved, had it not been for the increasing speed of the Pelican’s rotation toward the ground with the addition of his assault rifle sliding down from the anterior of the dropship; as Vaya stepped back, she stomped onto the rifle, causing her to lose balance and fall. She crashed into Matt while still holding the other Spartan’s hand. He tried to turn his head but couldn’t due to the air resistance. “Shit!” Jericho shouted as his voice faded away. Just like that, both he and Vaya were gone as they had both fallen out. It happened so fast that Matt didn’t even acknowledge they had just lost another Spartan until seconds later. He didn’t want to believe what he just witnessed. “Oh fuck!” someone shouted. Faster and faster, the Pelican kept rotating downward until the only thing Matt could see was black. He swallowed hard before feeling the impact of the Pelican hitting the top of a building, followed by the sound of an explosion. Orion pulled Matt back up onto his feet, making a squishy sound on the mud as he set his. He started to scrape the mud off of his armor. “We did, unfortunately,” Orion responded, “it’s a shame. I didn’t get to talk to Jericho too much in Xiphos. Then again, no one else in the team really talked to each other.” “Xiphos? As in, he was in Team Xiphos? Why didn’t I ever hear about that?” That surprised Matt. Team Xiphos was one of the best teams formed by some of the best Spartans in Gamma just a year before almost all of the teams disbanded to receive their separate deployment orders. Orion looked down for a moment. “I can remember that Lieutenant Commander switched Jericho with Holly in Team Katana. Anything else beyond that is foggy at the moment.” Matt nodded, and coughed. His throat was getting drier by the minute. “The ‘Nazi’ was a damn good fighter if I’ve ever seen one,” Ocaen suddenly said. He picked up Matt’s SPI helmet and handed it back to him. “Is it just me or are these things like sniper magnets?” Matt nodded, and leaned down to dip his visor in the murky water to help rub the mud off. “You have a valid point there.” He scrubbed his visor hard, letting the cold water clear the mud off until the golden color could be seen again. “That’s the exact reason Dan got shot. His head was too visible.” The two other Spartans stayed quiet, hearing the frustration in Matt’s voice. The helmet was the only thing that set SPI armor off in Matt’s opinion; they made easier targets for the Covenant to shoot at. At least their active camouflage systems made up for it. He didn’t even think the Spartan IIs had that type of technology built into their armor systems. “That lip of yours,” Orion said, turning around and unsheathing her combat knife to carve into a tree, “how bad does it hurt?” “It looked like she gave it to you pretty hard,” Ocaen said, looking at rather big drop of blood falling from Matt’s lip. Matt sighed, as if he didn’t want to answer the question; he quickly inspected himself and his split lip in his visor before spinning it around and putting the SPI helmet over his head. “I’m fine. Besides, I definitely deserved that. I haven’t exactly been the best Spartan in Gamma.``” Ocaen looked confused. “What do you mean? You act like everyone else in Gamma: taciturn antisocial assh--” “You’re Ocaen, right?” he interrupted, looking straight at him through his visor. “The one and only,” Ocaen responded, taking off his helmet to reveal his face; it had specks of soot on it. He then put his helmet back on which, for the most part, looked undamaged, if not untouched. He probably sat near the front when Royal Stallion One crashed the Pelican. Matt patted Ocaen’s shoulder and motioned them to walk over to Skylar and the two other Spartans who were standing around the ODST, who was still either unconscious or dead. They seemed to be standing in an opening between the Orion quickly noticed the sound of their footsteps and followed closely behind them, sheathing her knife near her collarbone. “And you’re a Crewman, right? E-3?” Matt asked. “Yes. Why? “You’re talking to Crewman Apprentice Matt-210. I got demoted from Petty Officer Third Class some time ago,” Matt said, with a tone telling the younger Spartan that he was ashamed to say it, “Why? Because I nearly killed one of our own when he shot an insult to me for being a farmer. I’m surprised they didn’t discharge me dishonorably. ” Ocaen chuckled. “So you’re the ‘Spartan-210’ everyone was talking about in team-building month, huh?” “Yes well, I’ve changed since then,” Matt responded, “most of us did after a few years. They even had me speak to one of the psychiatrists after that incident. You know, I met Jericho while waiting for the psychiatrist after the augmentations. Said it was his last visit. I’d expect someone like him to be there.” “I bet so,” Ocaen responded, “when we were in the martial arts phase, he told me he’d talked to the psychiatrists every month.” That caught Matt’s attention. “You don’t think he had some kind of big personality disorder, do you?” he asked. “If he did,” Ocaen said, “there’s no telling now. He did have frequent sociopathic tendencies… like all of us. But that’s not the point. Whatever reason he needed to see a psychiatrist has long been treated since then.” Matt stayed silent, thinking about how Jericho’s personality tied in with his skills. If he were a sociopath even before he’d been recruited into the program, how great of a fighter would he be if he were still living? Then again he’d be mistaking that with psychopathy, and that Spartan didn’t show any signs of having violent social behaviour. He came to the conclusion that Jericho acted like most of the other Spartans. “Hey, I’ve never met a farmer,” Ocaen said, trying to change the topic, “what was it like on the ranch?” It seemed he just wanted to talk to pass the time. That was fine with Matt; it was nice to have a conversation for once after 9 years, and it helped fill in the awkward silence that was usually there between the Spartans. “There’s not much I can talk about,” Matt said, “we lived on an orchard farm for apples. I usually just stood at the side and watched Dad do the work in the apple acres. Nothin’ much else. He said I couldn’t do anything until I was old enough. But, I do remember him giving me a pony; her name was Amber. It was the hardest thing to leave her behi--” Orion suddenly laughed hard behind them, causing the two other Spartans to stop and look back at her as if she were an ODST. Matt probably hadn’t heard anyone in Gamma laugh like that in… forever. Now that he realized it, all of those preschoolers and gradeschoolers started off as depressed children when they first became candidates; they grew to be quiet and antisocial from Not a single joke or anything funny had been told for 9 years. Until that moment, apparently. Her laugh was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. It made him feel… happy about himself. For a moment, he forgot about Dan being shot in the head and Jericho and Vaya falling to their deaths. Matt smiled, noticing that she was starting to tear up even though she had her SPI helmet on. “What? Was it something I said?” “I’m sorry, it’s just,” she coughed once she stopped laughing, “I can just imagine you right now, riding on a little pony with your armor and the MA5B and whatnot. You’d look really stupid.” Ocaen laughed a bit as well. That’s when Matt realized that all of that was strange, as if wherever they were was the reason why they felt like that. Was the “pony” thing really that funny, or was it something else? Weren’t swamps supposed to make people feel scared or depressed or tired? “I’d probably crush the poor thing. And I’m not even wearing MJOLNIR,” Matt said as they continued to walk forward again through the damp ground. He stared at the ground while taking the next few steps. “Amber was pretty small.” “That begs the question,” Ocaen said, “why’d your dad give you a pony?” “He said it was the right size for me,” Matt responded, “seemed about right. A horse would be too big.” “Right,” Orion responded in her normal voice as they stopped at the group of the three Spartans. They stopped talking and looked at Matt, Orion, and Ocaen. He couldn’t tell if their faces were faces of anger, amusement, depression, happiness, or apathy. “What was that all about?” Logan asked, taking his slightly damaged SPI helmet off and holding it at his side. His usual pale skin was dirtied up from the battle. “Nothing too important,” Ocaen responded with a tone as if the whole thing never happened. “Tell us,” Skylar said, “ maybe it was something you found, or--” “Matt here was telling us about his old life on an apple orchard, before project SPARTAN. His dad gave him a pony to ride on... Petty Officer,” Orion said. Skylar looked toward Matt, as if she were trying not to laugh. “You had a pony?” Matt slowly nodded, not understanding why having a pony was worthy of a laugh. “Interesting,” Skylar responded. He was honestly expected her to scold him or pummel him (which he prepared himself for) or do something to him he wouldn’t like. At least she got over him punching her in the gut. “Anyway, we’ve got a predicament here: we have no idea where we are or how we got here. Sky?” Logan looked at her, which was probably her cue to start explaining fast. “Right,” she said, “in a nutshell, I don’t think we’re on Victoria anymore.” “How can you tell?” Orion asked, as the 6 Spartans began to form a small circle around the ODST. Matt rested his shoulder on one of the trees. “I’ve studied a lot about Victoria,” she continued, “especially Blue Team’s task to penetrate an Insurrectionist camp, which is why the whole planet is UNSC controlled now. The point is, however, that Victoria’s geography doesn’t match the location we’re in. There haven’t been recordings of any swamps or marshes on the planet after a reconnaissance mission was completed 11 years ago. The nature report of the planet said ‘Trees, trees, and nothing else but trees. The only water source other than the sea is a single river, but nothing else. The whole planet seems to be devoid of any creeks, streams, other rivers, swamps, marshes, ponds, or lakes.’ Take a good look at where we are.” “A bog,” Matt said. Her explanation was actually plausible, as he read the nature report himself. It explicitly talked about the types and amount of trees found on Victoria. If Skylar was right and they weren’t on Victoria anymore, there had to be as to why they were in a swampy forest in the first place. Maybe the combination of the slipspace rupture and the glassing somehow teleported the Spartans? Was that even possible. Both the electromagnetic pulse of the rupture and the plasma shooting down from the battle cruisers had the power of a several nuclear explosions. Combining the power of all 4 ships would have made an explosion as big a hydrogen bomb, if not an atomic bomb. Shouldn’t that have simply killed them all? Or maybe the Covenant captured them and unintentionally drop them into wherever they were? It couldn’t be as simple as that. Or maybe I’m dead? Is this what hell is like? A gloomy field of endless trees? “Our primary goal right now,” Skylar said, breaking the silence, “is to find the UNSC and get back to civilization. Wherever that would be. Contacting the UNSC is out of questions; all of our communication equipment got destroyed in the crash, or so I think.” “And Jericho and Vaya?” Ocaen asked, “now that I think of, what happened to the three other ODSTs?” Skylar cringed at the name “Jericho”. He could understand why she did that. Assuming that he was her only friend, she must have felt alone. Even though they didn’t talk to each other too much, they seemed to stick together during the toughest times in training. “Here, I’ve recorded a list of who’s here and who’s missing. I’ll read it off. Take your helmets off so I can identify you,” Logan said, taking out a miniature notepad from the rucksack that Jericho had temporarily given him, which was now on his back. Everyone, with the exception of the ODST, took their SPI helmets off in unison, which made an audible sound. The Spartan started to read everyone’s names off of his list, looking at each person as he said their names. “All present: Crewman Apprentice Matt-G210, Crewman Ocaen-G207, Crewman Garrett-G111, Crewman Orion-G215, Petty Officer Third Class Skylar-G316, myself, and Private Webb, who we have sleeping right here. Check under his cover to be sure.” Every person put their helmets back on as Logan said each of their names. Gently, Ocaen crouched down and pulled Webb’s helmet up a small amount. Surely enough, it was Private Webb with his eyes closed, still unconscious. It looked like he had a scar or big scratch on his face from a Jackal. Ocaen let go of the ODST’s helmet again, covering his face, and inspected the rest of the Marine’s gear. “ Bloodtype: AB, standard BDU, rank of Private. It’s him, alright.” Matt felt ashamed. It wasn’t easy being the oldest out of the other Spartans, but the lowest rank. At least Webb was there, even if Private was only a Marine and Army rank. Logan inhaled deeply, as if he were going the next part of his list in one breath. “Our casualties: Gunnery Sergeant Miller, first squad, status: KIA. Sergeant Kunitada, third squad, status: KIA. Gunnery Sergeant Chen, second squad, status: KIA. Private First Class Smith, first squad, status: KIA. Private Jackson, first squad, status: MIA. Lance Corporal Lee, second squad, status MIA. Private Fox, second squad, status: MIA. Private Ryan, third squad, status: KIA. Corporal Boyd, third squad, status: KIA. Crewman Apprentice Dan-G086, third squad, status: KIA (or MIA, if you all prefer). Petty Officer Third Class Jericho-G252, first squad, status: KIA (also MIA, if you all prefer). And Vaya ‘Sraom, female Elite minor, originally to be taken into UNSC interrogation for treason against the Covenant, status: MIA,” Logan exhaled, “damn.” He must have been pleased that he had listed everyone from all the three squads and remembered the Elite’s name. Matt didn’t realize how many ODSTs were actually gone: a lot. It was supposed to be a simple evacuation mission; with Spartans, anyone would expect a small amount of casualties. He wondered what the brass would say to the rest of them if and when they got back. Even before the slipspace rupture, 7 people were killed. On the other hand however, the brass would have thought the slipspace rupture would have killed all them already. Surprise, Naval Intelligence. We’re alive, Matt thought to himself, smirking. The Spartan thought back to the ODSTs of the 105th Shock Troops Division. A lot of them were… annoying at times, but they were truly good men at heart. He hoped their families wouldn’t have a hard time coping with their deaths, assuming they still had families. Matt stopped caring about his old family long before the augmentations had taken place. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if he weren’t a Spartan. His purpose was to fight and protect humanity, even if they lost a lot of men that day. “What’s stopping us from moving out of here now?” Matt asked, looking over to where Garrett had spotted drier land. Skylar pulled out a magnum, holding it by the grip, and pointed it toward the ground. “You see, this is the only long ranged weapon we have out of the seven of us, and there’s a whole world out there of who-knows-what. Plus, I’ve been hearing a lot of strange sounds, including the sound of malicious roaring. You can see why that’s a problem in this godforsaken forest.” Orion nodded. “I’ve been hearing those noises as well. This place gives me the creeps.” “Logan and Garrett have detected hostile creatures moving around a lot, but haven’t gotten the chance to take a single one out yet,” Skylar said as Logan nodded, “I’ve done a bit of scouting around here. There’s something about this place that doesn’t seem right; there’s something unsettling about walking alone out here in the dark, and it isn’t because of the native fauna. Call me crazy, but there are times when I feel we’re being watched.” Matt thought about what she said. It sounded crazy, but there wouldn’t be any reason for her to lose her mind or lie. “Covenant?” he asked. “It’s a possibility, but the Covenant would have gotten to us earlier. It’s been an hour since we’ve woken up from the ‘crash’, which was about 5 hours ago,” Garrett said. Matt nodded. He understood the fighting tactics of the Covenant. Spying wasn’t in the nature of Hunters, Brutes or Grunts. If it were Skirmishers, Elites, Jackals, or even a group of drones, they would have likely attacked long before Skylar woke him up. “Here’s my proposal. Since we’re all awake,” Skylar said, looking at Matt, “we should move as a group mass formation, but not too close to each other. I’ll be carrying Webb.” “Why don’t we move in an on-line squad movement? We have more visuals if everyone is side-to-side and up front,” Ocaen suggested, rubbing his chin. “With no other ranged weapons, there wouldn’t be any point in moving like that, and we’d be more exposed out in the open. In a place like this, you don’t want to be seen; I’ve checked our active camo units: they’re all broken,” Skylar responded with a matter-of-factly tone, “a group maneuver would be safer in the sense that everyone has each other’s backs, and we’d be able to cover more ground if we keep a quick paced--” “We understand, Petty Officer,” Logan intervened with her sentence. Matt looked at the ODST lying in the circle between all of them as Skylar handed him the sidearm and 5 magazines, which he grabbed with ease after lifting himself off the tree. “Why me?” he asked plainly, putting the extra ammunition in small leather cases attached to his waist. “Because I can trust you to get the job done,” she said, “you’re the best shot that’s here right now. Get your combat knife out, I recommend you use the Harries Technique: hold your knife in your left hand and nest your wrists together. Make sure the back of your hands are pressed firmly against each other and that your left forearm is at a 60 degree angle. Non augmented humans don’t use this method due to the fact that they aren’t strong enough to hold the gun steady without the recoil ruining their aim. We’re not like those people.” Matt did as he was told and put his right wrist over his left, pointing the magnum toward a tree behind him. He held the knife with his left hand, making sure that the sharper side of it was parallel to the ground and ready for a quick stab when needed. After getting used to the new method, he lowered both weapons. It felt unusual to him, especially while using a combat knife as big as the one he carried. If Skylar said it, he might as well have tried it out. Jericho must have taught that to her, since neither he nor any of the other Spartans had never learned about it in CQC. “Perfect. Everyone else, combat knives out and prepare to support Matt in case of a close quarters situation. We’ll be moving northeast from where we are now, taking breaks only when we absolutely need to. We’re bound to find something at some point. Hoo-ah?” “Hoo-ah,” everyone responded with confidence in their voices. It felt like one of the training missions on Onyx, except it was real this time. There was no telling whether anyone would be killed or not, or whether they’d have any contact with hostile enemy forces. “Fall out, Spartans,” Skylar said. With that command each of the Spartans pulled their knives simultaneously out of their sheaths, whether they were located across their chest, collarbone, or forearm. The sound of the combat knives scraping across the inside of their sheaths at the same time was music to Matt’s ears. It gave him confidence that they’d find anything of use soon. I wonder if this planet even has any other intelligent life forms, he thought. At best, they’d most likely find some kind of native mammal similar to those on Earth. Maybe even other survivors. The Spartans grouped together as swiftly and quietly as possible, staying just a few feet away from each other. Matt walked to the front, turning the safety mechanism off and ready to lift his arms up to shoot. Skylar picked Private Webb up carefully with both of her arms, trying not to injure him if he had any broken bones, and threw him over her right shoulder. She showed no signs of any difficulty doing that process. She was a Spartan after all. As soon as possible, the small group of Spartans started to moved forward at a fair walking pace. Each of them were battle-ready as they held their knives firmly and in a close quarter stance, prepared to attack anything that seemed like a threat to them. With their heightened senses, nothing should have gotten past their sights. Cautiously, the team of Spartans stepped through the mud and dirty water, checking their surroundings. They made absolute certainty that they were secure, looking around for anything suspicious. Nobody had said a word as sounds of mud squishing and stepping through puddles under their armor were made. Matt focused on the trees that grew nearer to him until he completely past each one. The nature report of Victoria also applied to this place as well. There was nothing but trees! There was something weird about them though; something was dark about them. No matter. They were just trees and nothing more. They were similar to the trees on Onyx, except these ones made him feel different. They gave off a gloomy feeling even with the sudden emotion of exhilaration he felt when he first woke up. He felt stupid for thinking about it, but it was like the trees were evil, like something out of a fairytale. Anything “magical” and whatnot couldn’t exist due to science. Science was the reason he didn’t understand religion. Then there were the sounds. All types of sounds Matt were audible in the throughout the trees, unlike the ones on Onyx. The forest ecosystem they were in let him know that everything around them was actually alive and sounded like they wanted to harm them. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel intimidated or even more confident. Matt and the others pushed onward, weary of the trees and anything that could attack them. As best as he could, he tried to ignore the trees. He had never seen any trees that made him feel different. He hoped that it was only a psychological thing and nothing too eerie. Bored of the situation, Matt thought back to how they lost Jericho while leading the group forward and still aware where they were. He remembered his final words and all the death happening around them. After a while he realized: there was a chance that the Spartan and Elite were still alive. He remembered the amazing stories about non augmented humans in the past centuries surviving falls thousands of feet above the ground and still survive. Sure, bones were fractured here and there, but that wasn’t the point. Better yet, they could have fallen onto one of the many buildings, decreasing the chances of them being killed. While some short falls may have been fatal, Jericho would have known exactly how to fall without using a parachute. And if they didn’t fall on top of a building, there was a possibility that the two had reached terminal velocity before touching the ground. At least one of them could have survived if they were still holding onto each other. Then Matt remembered the glassing and how the explosion would have still gotten both of them. Instantly, he stopped thinking about it. He couldn’t get his hopes up as much as he wished Jericho was there with them. Even if he or the Elite were alive, they probably wouldn’t be anywhere close to their location. Matt kicked a rock with a lot of force, which turned into smaller bits as it hit a nearby tree. He smiled as he remembered he had the power to do that now. Thinking about doing suicide missions most ODSTs couldn’t complete made him feel at ease. Matt had to admit: he was proud of the 327 other Spartans who were most likely still alive. They were his family; his friends. He sincerely didn’t mind if Skylar split his lip or not. For the most part, nothing was happening but endless walking. He saw shadows of small animals moving about and the odd sounds they made, but nothing out of the ordinary. That was no problem for Matt, of course. He had enough energy to go on for days in the condition he was in, and no one was currently dying. It was surprisingly more calm than he thought. Even if the Spartans were safe for the moment, he secretly wished for another fight soon. The feeling of being shot at was enough to make him feel satisfied with himself before shooting back at the enemy. He hoped at least one of the others felt the same way. Twenty minutes passed as the crew of Spartans continued their trek through the bog when Logan finally broke the silence as they entered a small opening. “Anyone thirsty? I’ve got water in the rucksack.” “Affirmative,” Matt said, still looking forward, “standby for a moment.” Skylar nodded as Matt handed the sidearm to Orion, continuing to keep watch. “Solid copy. You alright?” Matt put the knife back in his sheath and responded as Logan kneeled and pulled a large metallic water bottle out of the war-torn rucksack. “I’ll be fine. I haven’t had a drink since breakfast… which I believe was yesterday.” Skylar commanded the rest of the crew to keep watch. “Alright. Don’t take too long.” Logan walked a short distance to Matt and handed him the bottle, which he soon took hold of. “Take small sips. That bottle is our only source of clean water before Petty Officer makes us drink the stuff from the ground,” he said, lifting up his foot and looking at the small droplets of water and dirt falling down from his armor. That was fine with Matt; there wouldn’t be a problem as long as there was a way for them all to stay hydrated. Matt lifted his helmet off of his head and set it on the ground. He unscrewed the cap and gently brought the bottle to his lips, slowly sipping. Small amounts of warm water flowed down his throat as he swallowed, making him feel much better. He winced from the inceptive pain of his split lip, but dealt with it soon after, not letting it get in the way of his thirst. He forgot entirely about the wound Skylar gave him until the moment he felt it again. His only hope was that none of his blood flowed into the bottle. Once he finished, he twisted the cap back on shortly after and gave the bottle back to Logan. “Dad,” an adult voice suddenly said drowsily, preferably Webb, as he Skylar lay him down on a drier piece of land, “are you back from the store yet?” Garrett let out a laugh. “Somethin’ you wanna tell us, Marine?” Webb responded with the sound of mumbling before going back to sleep. At least he was alive to support them later, even if his strength was inferior to the group of teenagers’ own augmented strength. Everyone spread out between the circle of trees. “Hm,” Skylar said inquisitively, “I have a feeling his dad actually ‘went to the store’.” Suddenly everyone, with the exception of Ocaen, started to moderately chuckle. “Is there something I’m not getting?” Ocaen asked, feeling confused and somewhat left out. He must have not heard of that old saying before. “It means his dad--,” immediately, Matt was interrupted by an intensely loud, girly, and high pitched scream in the far distance. Shortly after, everyone move closer to each and entered into separate CQC positions, backs facing each other. Each of them were ready to slice at anything that would try to kill them. Orion tossed the magnum back to Matt as he grabbed his helmet and put it back on, pulling his knife back out. He held his two weapons up, using the method Skylar had recently taught him and faced toward the direction they were initially heading in. Everyone else looked faced different directions, staying alert for any incoming hostiles. As soon as there were no signs of any hostile lifeforms, Orion spoke out. “You guys heard that, right?” she asked. Logan responded, looking back as he continued to hold his combat knife and hand up in a close quarter stance. “We wouldn’t be in this position if we didn’t hear it.” “It sounded like a civilian,” Ocaen said with a hushed voice, “no Marine or known Covie would make a sound like that. Where do you think it came from?” “Over there,” Skylar said plainly, pointing forward, east of their original direction of movement. Everyone turned around swiftly to see where she pointed, which was mostly composed of trees close together and vines. Great. Ocaen was right. Matt had never heard a scream as terrified as the one that just happened. It couldn’t be Covenant, since the voice sounded human, and it wasn’t a Marine, since their screams would sound more masculine. No. This scream sounded more feminine and civilian-like, as if it was for her life. If there really was a civilian in trouble, they had no choice help her. It was their job to protect humanity, as well as their moral obligation. “Alright everyone. Single file, behind me,” Matt said as moved swiftly to the east, “we’re gonna haul ass towards the sound. We need to know exactly what the hell is going on here.” “Agreed,” Skylar said, sheathing her knife, “Orion, Logan. Watch our six and make sure no one gets lost or left behind, including yourselves. Remember: ‘no man left behind, dead or alive’. As for the rest of you, proceed with caution.” “Copy that,” they both said in unison before walking back behind Skylar. Matt sheathed his knife as everyone else moved into a line behind him, getting his magnum ready for battle. At least something new was happening. He was worried there wouldn’t be any action for a while. Fighting was in their nature, as if they were born to do it. “Everyone ready? Let’s move,” Matt said briskly. Immediately, the Spartans went into a jog behind Matt toward the direction Skylar pointed at which quickly became a full-on run through the assortment of trees. The agility tests were finally paying off as each person, save for Skylar, followed the exact movements of Matt through the forest. He certain they followed his movements as he kept his eyes forward. They quickly dodged the trees and vaulted over large roots and rocks; nothing too bad as Matt continued to lead the crew. Their movement was unbelievably quiet for how fast they were moving. He made sure to keep a slow enough pace so as to not make a sound more distinct than the ecosystem of the forest itself. The only actual sounds they made were the splashes their feet made in the puddles, which wasn’t too noticeable. The area was so heavily forested that if it weren’t for their quick reaction times, one of them would have ran into a tree. The good thing was that there weren’t any Marines to hold them back like the evacuation in New Birmingham. One of them were sure to have knocked themselves out at the rate the young Spartans were moving at. A lot of the infantry Marines that weren’t ODSTs were just a few years older than they were and would most likely fail! Matt was amazed at that fact. They grew up training for most of their life, as opposed to the Marines who only trained in a smaller amount of time. Then there were the commissioned officers, who had it worse. They didn’t even have to go through the hell of boot camp like both enlisted Marines and Spartans did. Finally, after swiftly sprinting up and down a small hill, the line of Spartans exited the boggier part of the forest and into more solid land. It was nice to run on something other than mud and moist ground. Matt could have sworn they passed by a giant alligator or crocodile, but shrugged it off and kept going. It wouldn’t have noticed them anyway with how quietly they were moving. Even their SPI armor hid them from plain sight as it blended in very well with the ground and trees. The alligator or crocodile would have heard nothing more than a wind. Running through the trees let memories of the training flow into Matt’s mind. It so similar to the training on Onyx to the point where he felt as if he were actually training for a moment. He felt as if he could go on for miles. With the augmentations, they could last a good while without even increasing the rate of their pulses. Slowly, bright sunlight began to appear in their eyes as the distance between the trees increased. Finally, they could run in peace with no obstacles blocking the way and increasing the chances of losing the source of the scream. Now that the trees were out of the way, Matt just had to worry about finding that exact source. That had to be easy, right? A human in normal clothing would have been very easy to spot out in the open a forest like that. Onward Matt went until another huge clearing in the trees was visible in Matt’s eyes. Suddenly he realized it was no clearing as he grew closer; it was a trail! Matt stopped completely in his tracks after reaching the pathway. The path appeared to lead to two different directions: left and right. “Which way?!” he asked quietly to the Spartan was behind him. “Left! Left!” Garrett’s voice said behind him, quickly and quietly. Matt hoped he was right. “Solid copy,” Matt said, moving left and down the path where it became brighter, “watch both sides. We’re more prone to be attacked like this.” Orion and Logan stayed back a few meters away from them, making sure nothing could flank the rest of them if given the chance. They felt as if they’d been running for a while, which in reality they’ve been running for the last 5 minutes after their short break. Finally, Matt started to sprint fully down the dirt road. He had a visual on all kinds of organisms through the trees as he passed them. The Spartans, just a few feet away from each other, started to spread out onto the road with Ocaen on his left, Garrett on his right, and the three others who still ran behind them. At least they could keep up with him. The forest didn’t look as dark and eerie as it was before, but still had the emotion it gave off. Matt truly didn’t care at the moment, still looking for any signs of human life. Suddenly, he spotted an equine-like creature sitting at the side of the road up ahead, panting as if it were tired. As far as he knew with the pony his dad gave, equines couldn’t pant. Maybe this was a new type of equine that wasn’t discovered yet. The equine had a pure white coat, unusually big eyes, a styled mane which was colored purple, some kind of marking on its upper back leg, and had horn on its head. Matt could already tell this creature was a female. For the most part it looked very weak, but he couldn’t be quick to judge. Perhaps it had the power to defeat them all. The thing that striked him the most was that this creature looked intelligent, given the saddlebags it carried, the makeup, and the mane. Why would a horse need to have makeup? The only reason Matt even started to notice its features was because it stood in the way of their path as they neared it. That formed the question: was this the source of the scream they all heard? It couldn’t have screamed like that, could it? Animals couldn’t even talk. It probably wouldn’t even understand him if he tried to talk to it. As Matt became a few meters away from the equine, he stopped completely. He brought his hand up, signaling the other Spartans to stop in their tracks as well. He heard no signs of tiredness from them which was a sign that they still had enough energy to go on. After a few moments of inspecting the equine who hadn’t noticed them yet, Matt looked back at the others and signaled them to advance slowly, bringing his sidearm up. Quietly, the Spartans followed behind Matt, getting ready for whatever was ahead of them. The appearance of the equine was amazing up close. She looked completely different from any horse he’d seen since it was small, but amazing nonetheless. Was it… a unicorn? Weren’t unicorns magical? No, that horn must have been there for a different reason. Magic was bullshit. Matt aimed the magnum at its head as he grew nearer to it, using what was left of the targeting reticule on his HUD. He didn’t put his finger on the trigger just yet, as seeing something like that dead was hard to imagine. The Covenant or any other human, Matt would be fine with killing. There was something about the equine that prevented him from feeling the need to kill it. I’m surprised it hasn’t noticed us yet, Matt thought, holding gun and getting closer to the “unicorn”. Suddenly she looked straight at them and jumped and yelped in fear. Damn. He thought too soon. “Get away, you foul creatures!” she said, before turning around quickly and trying to escape them. Matt was amazed. It was a non-Covenant alien who could speak English. They needed to report that to ONI as soon as possible. “Freeze!” Matt yelled, aiming the magnum at her, “turn around slowly. Identify yourself and your intentions or I will open fire.” The unicorn stopped, and turned around. She looked amazed and fearful that he could even talk. She then looked at the firearm, as if she were unimpressed about the situation. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry for about saying that, but I simply don’t have time for this. I must get back to Ponyville for the picnic with my friends,” she said with some kind of Transatlantic English accent, “please, I’m sure you have other things to do and chat with me, what, with you being… interesting looking creatures.” Apparently she didn’t know what a gun could do. Tough luck for her if the Covenant were to invade that particular planet. “Am I dreaming, or is this actually happening?” Garrett whispered in a confused voice. The same emotion could be said for the other Spartans as well. Matt sighed, continuing to aim his gun at her as she started to walk away. “I said freeze.” As the unicorn started to trot away, finally catching her breath. “Permission to fire warning shots, Petty Officer,” Matt asked. “Granted,” Skylar said. Matt nodded, and looked back at the unicorn. She was stupid to have ignored his commands and walk away. Instantly, he aimed the magnum at a bird flying over her and quickly squeezed the trigger. It was a nice shot in his opinion; he was sure he blew the bird’s brains out. Even if it was a mere bird, he had finally heard another gunshot. The thunderous sound the pistol made was loud enough to scare some birds out of the trees, as well as make a sound audible from a mile away. He almost forgot how loud a gun as small as the one he carried could be. The unicorn shrieked and tripped after the bird’s corpse fell on her back, red blood smearing across her pristine white coat as if it were paint. She looked behind her and saw that bird was still on her back; she shrieked again. “Get it off, get it off, get it off!” she squealed For a single horse, she sure screamed a lot and was now positive that she was the source of the screaming they all heard. The whole team gathered up behind Matt as he kept the magnum aimed at her while walking toward her. She struggled remove the animal from her back. He heard each of his comrades sheath their knives, staring at how pathetic the unicorn looked. He had to admit: it looked more unusual than anything he’d ever seen. Matt wouldn’t blame them. This unicorn was the whole reason their time had been wasted. At least he got to shoot and kill something, even if a bird was very small. “P-please don’t hurt me,” she said fearfully as Matt aimed the muzzle of the gun at her. Now she knew the Spartans meant business. “We won’t,” Matt responded, “at least not yet. For now: identify yourself. Better yet, where are we?” The unicorn stayed silent, then spoke. “What are you?” she asked If it were Matt’s choice, he wouldn’t kill the unicorn unless it posed as an actual threat. Almost everyone there had authority over him; he might have had to kill it anyway. Then again, she acted more human than any alien each of them had seen. Especially with her strong emotion of fear. Anyone with normal feelings would feel utterly afraid for their lives if they were out in a forest like that as their life was being threatened. “Well she definitely isn’t Covenant,” Skylar said, laying Webb on the ground and stood next to Matt, “lower your weapon, Spartan. I have a strong feeling she isn’t a hostile.” “Solid copy, Petty Officer,” Matt responded, lowering the sidearm and attaching it to his thigh. It was Skylar’s turn to do the talking. She was, after all, the highest rank if not their leader. She was one of the better Spartans in Gamma as far as he knew. He wondered what Skylar would do with the unicorn once it stopped. She seemed neutral about the situation, showing signs of neither happiness nor anger. Then again, he couldn’t tell her exact emotions with her helmet on. “Relax. Tell me: what exactly were you running away from? Where even are we?” Skylar asked calmly and inquisitively. She crouched down so that her eyes were level to the unicorn’s own eyes. It was as if she made the equine feel at ease. Skylar pulled the bird off of her back, showing that she and the rest of the Spartans wouldn’t harm her… or, that’s what Matt thought her intentions were. A few seconds passed as the unicorn stared at her own reflection in Skylar’s visor. She looked scared and amazed at the same time. Matt didn’t blame the unicorn. The SPI armor did make everyone seem odd, especially with how short they were compared to the ODSTs. “T-twilight?” the unicorn asked, breaking the tranquility. Everyone was silent after that.