By PseudoFiction
In the pale moonlight all Ishmir could make out where the tree trunks a few meters in front of his face. And somehow, with everything exploding around him that was kind of a comfort.
The woods of Onyx were sparse with whole stretches where the undergrowth did not grow. Now for Ishmir that was a double edged sword, because on the one hand it meant he could move fast. On the other, it meant his pursuers could keep up easily.
Stun rounds thudded out of the drill instructor’s assault rifle and smashed into a tree to Ishmir’s right. The boy caught a branch on his left and hooked in the opposite direction of splintered bark. He wasn’t sure how or why his pursuer could miss at this range. Perhaps it was the poor light, or then perhaps it was the bulky armor making the shooter impervious to all forms of attack.
“No fair, no fair, no fair, no fair!” Ishmir screamed as he dove behind a cluster of roots. Bark and wood were blasted off his cover mere millimeters beside his head forcing the boy to cower.
It really was no fair, considering the drill instructors were all armored up and carrying assault rifles with stun ammunition. All Ishmir had were his soggy PT fatigues. His fatigues and a prayer.
“Ben!” Ishmir hissed between the ‘braaap’ of gunfire echoing through the woods. This burst was more muted, likely another one of the DI’s had spotted other trainee Spartan-3’s scurrying about the woods.
As the night went on this was becoming less of a training exercise and more of a slaughter.
“Ben! Where the hell are you?”
Ishmir scrambled to break cover but collided with something hard and heavy. The collision threw the gangly ten-year-old back a few paces and Ishmir found himself face to face with the drill instructor who had been hounding him for the better part of fifteen minutes.
The drill instructor – or more commonly known as DI by those they trained – was hulked out in muscular armored plates black as night. Ishmir recognized the armor configuration as that typically worn by marines who inserted into active warzones conveniently packaged in their own coffins.
Aside from the ODST armor he didn’t recognize the assault rifle aside from it being a bog standard MA5B, the bread and butter of the UNSC armed forces. But that was because he usually observed the weapon from behind while shouldering it on the range. To have the barrel squarely trained on his face was a new angle of view for Ishmir.
He immediately put his hands up, for whatever good that was going to do. The DI had the boy dead-to-rights. There was no walking out of this without a limp. He was going to be shot up, yelled at and left in the forest while the DI went to work hunting down and gunning down the other Spartan trainees.
Unless of course Ishmir’s original plan succeeded. Which it did.
A light figure dwarfed by the hulking drill instructor fell from the forest canopy and landed right on the man’s shoulders. In one hand the jumper had a rock the size of his fist and he didn’t hesitate to use it.
The stone cracked against the DI’s helmet twice, hard enough to crack the visor and dent the armor. He dropped his assault rifle and went to grab his attacker, but it was all too little too late.
Marko tore the DI’s helmet off and whacked him one last time for good measure. The drill instructor crumpled like his limbs had turned to jelly, leaving just the two kids standing over him.
“Boo-yah, bitch!” Marko whooped, dropping the rock he’d brained the DI with in the moss. His smile shone in the moonlight as he looked up to see Ishmir approach. “Who the fuck is Ben?”
“You know that porky guy in team Scimitar? The one who’s always whining?” Ishmir asked.
“Oh, yeah. That guy. I’m surprised he hasn’t washed out yet.”
“Well I figured the DI would be more inclined to walk into your ambush if he thought it was just Ben out here with me. If I had called out to you he would have been more cautious and he might have spotted you in the trees.” Ishmir grinned and pointed up to the thick branch Marko had been hanging from for the past hour as Ishmir baited their prey into the trap.
Ishmir noted Marko was wearing a very impressed expression. “That is really fuckin’ smart.”
“I have my moments.”
The trainee Spartans fell on the unconscious drill instructor and stripped him down to his skivvies. Stripping the dazed man down to his fatigues would have been sufficient if the situation called for more conservative measures, but the duo had some time to spare so they initiated humiliation tactics. After all the DI’s had been humiliating the Gamma Company recruits for the past two hours non-stop. A little payback was definitely in order.
Chucking the trainer’s fatigues off into the night, Ishmir flexed his arm and tested his mobility. The young duo had divided the DI’s weaponry and armor among themselves. Ishmir carried the pistol loaded with stun rounds on his hip and had burdened himself with the armor that fitted over his left shoulder down to his knuckles and more impact plating from the hip down his thigh, shin and ankle. If he assumed a bladed stance while facing any other hostiles out in the dark forest he’d minimize chances of taking a crippling hit. All that and he’d be extremely mobile.
Marko hefted the DI’s torso and groin-armor, as well as the helmet and assault rifle. He was the tank. So while he would light up hostiles will suppressing fire while presenting a target, Ishmir would slip around the side as quickly as possible and move in for the kill… so to speak, since they only had stun ammo.
“Now what?” Marko asked as he cycled a round into the assault rifle’s chamber and looked to his buddy who always had a plan of some kind formulated.
Ishmir gave his fellow Spartan-3 trainee a wicked smile. “Now the fun begins.”
Four years later…
“Hey!”
The word just hung there for an instant as Marko gave his motion sensor a second glance.
“I got something,” the excitement in his hushed voice unmistakable.
“You sure?” Ishmir had just about enough of false alarms brought on by an antsy sociopathic teenager looking to sink his knife into something.
“Pretty sure.”
Ishmir sighed and angled his visor downward a little. This wasn’t good. They were barely a mile into the Everfree Forest. The Covenant patrols were getting bolder, venturing deeper into their territory. They were getting too close to the Castle of the Two Sisters.
Hell, they were already on top of the SCALPEL.
Just a dozen meters from where the invisible Spartan-3 crouched in the thick foliage was the clearing dotted with standing stones among which he’d landed their prototype SCALPEL spaceplane three days ago. Since landing in Equestria – their second visit actually – it had been over forty-eight hours of non-stop operating. There had been the initial Covenant invasion to contend. Then there were the evacuations, keeping the alien hunter-killer teams and airborne strafers off the ponies as they sought out the cover of the crystal mines underneath Canterlot and the Castle of the Two Sisters hidden in the thick Everfree Forest.
And now it was down to holding the line, preventing the scouting parties scouring the forest and routing out the out-gunned inhabitants of Equestria.
The only thing in their favor was the fact no Covenant re-enforcements had shown up. It was still just a single cruiser hanging high above Canterlot, and Ishmir thanked every deity he had knowledge of that the glassing hadn’t started yet. The Covenant were interested in Equestria for some reason, and that was buying the headhunters time.
Here we go again, Ishmir thought to himself, watching the foliage ahead move from side to side as the aliens came traipsing through the night. The two Spartan-3s were very familiar with the subtle aspects of fighting a bigger enemy. They were but two headhunters after all, the guys in white coats having decided long ago ‘2’ was a magic number. And their enemy numbered in the hundreds, perhaps even thousands.
Patience and skill was the key. Flintlock team had been whacking Covenant scouts all across Everfree Forest, had them searching in circles for most of the two days as the headhunters ran around them like children sticking their tongues out and shouting “neener-neener, can’t catch me!”
Unfortunately the Covenant were getting wise and their teams were pushing deeper into the woods.
The foliage burst apart as they came stumbling through. He identified two grunts at the front of the formation, followed by a jackal marksman carrying a pulse carbine and finally a towering brute in light blue armor trailed up the rear, spike rifle hanging casually in one claw. Ishmir counted them out casually, prioritizing in order of threat level and proximity to his position.
“I got eyes on,” Ishmir whispered on the comms. “Four Covvie scout team, little bastards in front, big one in the back. Danger close.”
“Copy that. I’m getting eyes on… nnnnnow.” Marko chuckled. “Hello, Charlie Foxtrot. How are we doing today? What’s the plan?”
“See what they do. Hopefully they turn around and go home.”
“Do you fucking hear yourself sometimes?”
“Yeah…”
The grunts staggered past within arm’s reach of where Ishmir sat. The heavy tanks of pressurized atmosphere they carried slowed the squat little aliens down. They weren’t a species built for traversing rough terrain… or any terrain that wasn’t their homeworld really.
The jackal that passed was more suited to the tight forested quarters. It had a slim figure and a long gait allowing for easy stepping over rocks and roots.
The brute in the rear was almost like the grunts, the enormous ape had a bulky frame and had to turn sideways just to fit between some of the trees.
It stopped right in front of Ishmir, raising a hand and barking its fellows. Following the commands of their squad leader, the aliens stopped as the brute drew a breath, sniffing the air curiously. Ishmir moved ever so slightly, his fist gently curling over the stock of his trusty pistol. He had enough ammunition for a short scrap, and the silencer of his M6C/SOCOM would dampen the noise enough so Covenant re-enforcements wouldn’t come running.
He just hoped Marko would reach for his own silenced weapon instead of lugging a grenade into the fray just for funsies.
The brute’s head turned sharply, but not towards Ishmir or the trees in which he knew Marko was hiding. It looked over to peer through the thinning foliage into the clearing beyond where a SCALPEL sat parked under a simple camouflage net.
“They’ve spotted our ride. Let’s take ‘em,” Marko hissed going for his knife, but catching the movement Ishmir flashed a red acknowledgement light to his HUD.
“No spilling blood. We need to clean this up after we’re done.”
“Oh, drag the fun out of everything why don’t you?” Marko sighed. “Fine. On your go.”
Ishmir moved slowly and smoothly, the wavering surfaces of his SPI armor adjusting. He killed the active camo, each geometric surface of the eldritch suit going from transparent to the painted red he’d worn for much of his Spartan life. His visor glinted gold as the Spartan-3 materialized from the forest and leapt forward with inhuman speed.
“Bust ‘em.”
Ishmir landed on the brute’s back the same time Marko dropped from above. One arm wrapped around the brutes neck and with a pull Flintlock-One turned the alien’s head around with a crack until it rested at an unnatural angle. The creature was dead before it even felt the weight of the headhunter on its back and collapsed.
Marko was death from above for the two grunts in the front at the same time. His hands locked around their breathing apparatus and he squeezed, buckling and breaking the gear from their faces. Pipes hissed and straps snapped before the two aliens dropped sideways and flopped about, gasping and choking on Equestria’s oxygen rich atmosphere.
He darted forward next, catching the jackal before it could react. Wrapping his arms around its neck like Ishmir had done to the brute, Marko turned the marksman’s head right the way around and let the dead body fall from his grip.
Laughing as his smile matched that etched on his domed visor, Marko held up his hand for a high-five with his closest friend. “Fuckers didn’t know what hit ‘em. Top shelf!”
Ishmir didn’t react though. He wasn’t even watching. The other Spartan was looking into the forest the way the Covenant patrol had come.
Eventually a grunt missing the breathing apparatus that should have been stuck to its face bobbed up over Ishmir’s shoulder.
Shaking with every syllable, the grunt’s head and arms wobbled comically as it spoke in a voice suspiciously like Marko’s. “What’s the matter, Ishy? Why are you being such a gwumpy wumpus?”
Ishmir responded by grabbing the dead grunt and tearing it from Marko’s grip. And all he could say for himself was “What?” as he shrugged innocently.
“You have issues,” Ishmir told him, making the other Spartan snigger.
“You’re figuring that out only now?” Adopting a more serious posture to Ishmir’s concerns, he added, “Are you worried about the patrols getting close to the SCALPEL?” Marko took a knee and kept watch while Ishmir took hold of the bodies and dragged them into the thicker foliage.
“There’s that, but the patrols are getting close to the Castle of the Two Sisters too.” He grunted, rolling over the brute before dragging the heavy creature out of sight. “The illusion Celestia put on the castle only hides it from aerial view. If they stumble over it on foot we’re going to have problems.”
“Nothing a proper application of force can’t solve.”
“True,” Ishmir agreed. “But if we get stuck defending our FOB we’ll never be able to engage the offensive.”
“Speaking of which, you think the princesses came up with a plan yet? It’s been a few days.”
“We need solid intel before we assault the Covenant. Unfortunately we’re low tech here. We’re relying on pegasus scouts and runners. This stuff is going to take time. Patience is a virtue.”
“You know who you’re talking to, right?”
“Point taken. But we can’t fuck this up. We’re two Spartans versus a cruiser.”
“We were two Spartans versus an Uneven Elephant once. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Ishmir smiled. “Famous. Last. Words.”
From the sky it was just another stretch of unbroken canopy, invisible to the passing banshees and phantoms. But from the ground, at the eye level of Flintlock and the ponies it was a massive clearing in which a castle stood.
It wasn’t exactly a whole castle, much of the structure seemed to have collapsed and only two towers were left standing on opposite ends. But the front door still worked, the walls stood and the fact it stood on an island surrounded by a wide deep gorge with only one access bridge made it highly defensible.
Also the fact the castle’s remnants were overgrown and looked unlived in would hopefully turn away even the most curious Covenant scout should they happen through and bypass the aerial camouflage enchantment.
Marko and Ishmir crossed the bridge and followed the path right up to the front steps, making sure to announce themselves for the concealed Royal Guard sentries hidden in the bushes.
“Ooh-rah, headhunters,” one of the stallions called.
The other held up a hoof and bumped it against Marko’s armored fist.
Climbing the steps, the headhunters moved into the great hall. The inside of the castle wasn’t much better than the outside. The tapestries were decayed, pillars and door arches moldy and crumbling. The glass in the windows and the ceiling was broken, covered by tarps. Torches were to remain unlit in the interest of stealth and nearly every square inch was occupied by ponies and their belongings.
All of Ponyville had been evacuated to the Castle of the Two Sisters with Princesses Celestia, Luna and Twilight Sparkle, whereas all of Canterlot had gone underground into the crystal mines with Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor. Contact between the two refugee camps had been spotty at best, but apparently the ponies in the crystal mines were in a similarly bedraggled state.
Carts and tents formed very rough lines across the space. The ponies who owned them were frazzled, tired with bags under their eyes and generally hopeless looking.
But when they saw the headhunters move through, something sparked in them.
They surged forward, their expressions suddenly brightened and began bombarding the headhunter with questions.
“Are the aliens gone yet?” “Are they close to finding us?” “How many did you send away today?” “Did you find any other ponies?”
The questions turned from curiosity in their contact reports into questions about missing loved ones. And soon not even Marko could deny them answers.
“No, uh… I haven’t seen your daughter,” Marko mumbled trying to move on, but the mare pestering held on to his leg.
“Please, just take another look at the photo one more time. You must have seen her!” the pegasus sobbed.
“My wife was coming home from Canterlot when the fighting started.” A stallion carrying his son on his back levitated a family photo in front of Ishmir. “Have you seen her? She must have made it to Ponyville by now!”
“I’m sure she made it into the crystal mines, sir,” Ishmir offered, but before he could put the stallion at ease he had another picture of a foal, mare or stallion shoved in his visor with pleas to find the missing and possibly dead.
Soon moving without hurting somepony became impossible. But thankfully a voice hollered across the great hall, making the pony mob pause.
“Everypony settle down!”
The crowd parted, but the headhunters could already see over the multicolored sea of heads to spot two ponies striding from the archway between the two thrones at the top of the room.
Twilight Sparkle’s friends Rarity and Applejack were well known in Ponyville. Then again, everypony knew each other in Ponyville. But Twilight’s friends were national heroes and held a special place in all their hearts.
So when Applejack told them to back off, the crowds backed off. The orange coated earth-pony trotted over with a heavy gait, whereas her brilliant white unicorn friend had a daintier stride.
“Everypony, Ah’ know y’all are itchin’ ta’ find ‘yer missing loved ones, but mobbin’ these fellers every time they walk through isn’t helping,” Applejack drawled. “As it is they got their hooves full keepin’ them alien varmints from findin’ us.”
“I don’t have hooves,” Marko mumbled.
“Details,” Ishmir mumbled back.
“Everypony, I have a marvelous idea,” Rarity piped up. “Why don’t we create a board to stick the pictures of everypony who is missing next to the door? That way before Double Tap and Hack-and-Slash go out they’ll have a look at the board and they’ll know the faces to keep an eye out for.”
“Joke’s on her, most of these ponies look the same to me,” Marko whispered before Ishmir shushed him.
The crowd seemed to like that idea and immediately followed Rarity as she led them towards where they would build their ‘missing’ board. As she passed, Ishmir made sure to nod curtly.
“Thanks.”
She winked with a smile. “Any time, Mister Double Tap.”
“Ah’ wonder when she’ll admit that’s not ‘yer real name,” Applejack chuckled, following her friend.
“Not while she’s still dreaming about your pony form,” Marko chuckled, nudging his fellow.
Ishmir shook his head and walked away. “I wish I were old enough to drink profusely.”
Leaving the way Rarity and Applejack had entered, Marko and Ishmir made their way to the west side of the castle. On their way were several more wide halls and chambers housing other ponies. Most of the castle was occupied, with mostly families provided with more private living spaces. But it was still cramped and there weren’t enough beds, couches, cushions or pillows to go around. Some ponies tore up some of the carpets or pulled down banners to act as blankets.
A short flight of spiraling stairs finally brought the Spartans up to the war room. There, three mares and a pegasus stallion in Royal Guard armor stood around the map in the center of the room. Most prominent of the figures was Princess Luna.
Despite not having the same build that commanded immediate attention like her older sister, Princess Luna had picked up a feature from last she was in Canterlot. At the hands of a brute chieftain she now had a spiderweb of scars running across the side of her face. Angry red lines broke up her dark fur, marring what was by all intents and purposes a perfectly pretty alicorn face.
The mauler burns could have been healed with magic of course, and it was still possible to fade the scars away, but Luna had refused. She held on to them, for the time being anyway, as a reminder of how she had been too slow to react on her first near-fatal meeting with the brute chieftain. Her hesitance had nearly cost the life of her sister and she kept the scars to make sure she did not hesitate again.
All of it was trivial of course. Everyone, Princess Celestia included knew it wasn’t Luna’s fault she’d been shot in the face by a brute. It could have happened to anyone.
Celestia’s injuries had healed entirely after nearly twenty-four hours of magical healing. Her scars were invisible as well, returning her clean alabaster sheen to its full glory. Though there was a noticeable tiredness in her eyes, like she hadn’t slept a wink since the Covenant descended.
Even Marko and Ishmir had managed powernaps between engagements. And to their combined surprise, even Twilight Sparkle had been sleeping like a baby whenever she could find the time.
Princess Twilight Sparkle had re-outfitted the gear the Spartans had originally made her to carry ammo. She had streamlined the whole thing, removed some of the excess pockets and pouches so she only carried what she needed herself. She had even sprayed some Royal Guard armor a lavender color to match her coat and inserted it into the rig to provide a little ballistic protection. She had also sprayed her helmet the dark purple to match her mane, but kept the headgear clipped to her homemade armor.
Holstered on her side, right under her wing was her pistol, the very same M6C/SOCOM she had used to kill her first brute. Which was part of the reason Ishmir suspected the alicorn’s makeover. Originally he’d put together the saddle bags for her to carry the Spartans’ ammo and weapons. That way she wouldn’t have to fight.
But now she seemed to be dropping hints that she was ready for combat.
“Ishmir. Marko,” Celestia greeted as she spotted them. “Thank you for coming.”
“Hey, shit-for-brains,” Marko greeted Twilight.
She smiled and greeted him back. “What’s up, ‘ya blank-firing turd-gobbler?”
Marko’s damaging influence had hit the point of no return.
The study in the west tower – the only room with intact windows – had been converted into a war room. The princesses had torn out all the furniture and drapes and placed a round table projecting an interactive map of Equestria in the very center.
The map was especially interesting, as it would change depending on what the scouts Celestia had sent to spy on the Covenant reported back with. Hovering over Canterlot was the miniature representation of the Covenant cruiser. Ponyville lay in ruins with stacks of smoke rising from the burnt out orchards skirting the town.
There were even miniature Covenant figures placed on the board. They seemed mostly concentrated on the Canterlot skydocks and in Ponyville where some sort of command center had been erected.
Covenant troops hadn’t spread as far beyond the two areas. There were other cities in Equestria, those closest to the theatre were being bolstered by Royal Guard and evacuated to the farther corners of Equestria. But it seemed the Covenant weren’t interested in pursuing them.
And the headhunters finally found out why when they looked at the map for the first time that day. A scout must have come in with new intel because there was a big new player on the board.
It was stampeding around the area designated Ghastly Gorge. The whole terrain had changed around it, the narrow winding gorge known for tight turns had turned into a crater. And flailing about in the middle of it was a siege tower. It had a bulbous top with open bays around the mid-section giving way to the sleek armor forming a shell down to the tapered point at the bottom. The whole thing had the shape of a three-limbed squid, the three enormous arms seemingly holding the impossible moving structure up flailing to turn rock and earth to dust as it excavated deeper into the earth.
The tower was designated by the UNSC as a Type-55 Ultra-Heavy Siege Tower. Or “Kraken” for short.
The headhunters had only ever seen one in action once, and that had been from a very long distance away. The only way to put it down had been to call in orbital support and put a MAC round through the thing. Obviously not an option in Equestria.
Marko knelt by the map and looked the Kraken head on. “Now that’s a kraken development.”
Ishmir groaned. “Oh, God. Not again.” Luna gave him an inquisitive tip of her head and Ishmir explained; “The last time we saw a Kraken it was nothing but puns out of his mouth for a week.”
“Hey, it’s better than all these horse puns kraken my brain.”
As the two older princesses stared like they didn’t get it, Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, this will get fucking annoying quick.”
“I find focusing on the task at hand helps block him out,” Ishmir explained with a chuckle.
Pointing at the Kraken, Luna asked, “You have seen one of these before, yes? How do we defeat it?”
Ishmir shrugged resting his hands on belt and looking at the miniature siege tower pensively. “Through superior firepower we don’t have access to right now. We’re going to have to wing it.” Pausing, he glanced at the pegasus, then at the winged princesses. “Uh… no pun intended.”
“What are the structure’s offensive and defensive capabilities?” Celestia asked the Royal Guard whose expression hadn’t changed the entire conversation.
“From what we saw, your highness, the limbs can deal excessive damage to ground based troops and fortifications,” the pegasus guard reported. “There are also several ranged emplacements dotted around the main deck.”
“Shades,” Ishmir corrected. “Rapid fire plasma turrets.”
“Indeed. Any pegasus approaching from air would be shredded.”
“Well good thing we don’t plan flying in on the back of a pegasus,” Ishmir offered before looking at Celestia. “Princess, we’ll blow the dust off the SCALPEL. Marko and I can fly in and take out the turrets. Marko takes the guns, I’ll stay in the SCALPEL and try to thin any air support they have. Once the sky is ours you can roll in an assault.”
“I’m going with you of course,” Twilight Sparkle piped up.
That took everyone in the room by surprise. Though Luna and Celestia said nothing, Ishmir was plenty verbal about the suggestion.
“It would be better if you sat this one out, Warlock,” he argued gently. “I’ll be flying the SCALPEL, and Marko will be conducting a dynamic firefight. There’s not much for you to do.”
“I can watch Marko’s back. He’ll need an additional shooter,” Twilight countered, then looked to the olive green headhunter. “I can shoot and project a shield at the same time as well. I’ll be fine.”
Marko shrugged. “She ain’t wrong. I’ll be juggling a lot of moving parts down there. I could use an extra hand… or hoof. Whatever.”
Ishmir was still shaking his head and Celestia interjected. Lowering her head to her former student, the princess asked, “Are you sure, Twilight Sparkle? I am in agreement with Spartan Ishmir. This will be an extremely dangerous task.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t go?”
“I’m saying I trust you to make an educated decision for yourself, as you always do,” Celestia corrected. “I merely want to stress that this will be a dangerous undertaking.”
Twilight grinned and gave a firm nod. “I understand fully, princess.”
Lifting her gaze, Celestia said, “The reason we are in this mess in the first place is because I did not heed the advice of Princess Twilight Sparkle. It is a mistake I will not make again. If she says she can contribute to the success of this mission then I will support her. But ultimately this is your operation, Spartans. I will leave it up to you.”
Ishmir said nothing, merely angling his visor slightly towards Marko. Of course his buddy was buzzing.
“Fuck yeah,” Marko whooped. “C’mon, Warlock. Let’s go conduct your very first firefight.”
Ishmir sighed as Twilight bounced over to retake her place in Flintlock team. “Fine, but you’ll need something other than that pistol,” he said.
“I’ll hook her up with something,” Marko assured.
Twilight smiled broadly, levitating her helmet onto her head. “This is going to work out great. We’ll have the air defenses down in no time. Then we can fuck the Covenant up with a combined push.”
“Sounds good. We’d better get kraken.”
Twilight Sparkle froze, then groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a hoof. “Me and my big mouth.”