Chapter 9: Everfree Ruckus
Droplets of water from one of the many high trees splattered on the violet armored form of a Sangheili as he stood and surveyed a field console before him. The improvised energy shield canopy above him was irritatingly inadequate to fully protect the makeshift command center he and a few other Covenant Elites were standing in from water. The atmosphere of the great Everfree Forest was damp and humid, and the air smelled strongly of mildew and even rotten eggs in the worst of places.
The Major was analyzing a holo-pedestal that was providing projections of their current location in the Milky Way. The planet they were on was incredibly distant from the nearest Covenant system, being located in the Perseus Arm as it was.
“Garak, everything I see, everything I hear, it tells me we have been left behind on this uncharted backwater.” There was a long pause, and then the violet Elite forcefully slammed his fist into the device. “Tell me I am lying,” he said in an ominously low tone.
While others flinched at the impact, Garak stood silent for a moment, watching the holographic projection flicker wildly from the damage its projector had sustained. At last, the blue armored Sangheili Minor mustered his words.
“Alas, you just may speak the truth, Bero. Messages with the Hierarch’s ship have all but ceased just an hour ago. We’ve received not even a whisper on our communication nodes,” he said in a worried tone. The purple antenna-like devices in question beeped and issued quiet static behind him.
“What nonsense is this? We’re sent to capture a lone errant Huragok when a lowly Jir’a’ul failed to do it, and then we are abandoned while the Hierarch returns home without prior warning?”
“Perhaps they wish us to occupy this forest as a foothold, for a time,” Garak suggested. “There may yet be relics of Forerunners cloistered somewhere, perhaps near where the indigenous civilization have built their cities. Retrieving a Huragok and uncovering new relics on a backwater isn’t as terrible as it sounds.”
A moment passed, as the moon managed to break through the cloudy night sky and foliage canopy to shine light down on the command center. The combination of moonlight, floodlights, and holographic glow caused a number of bizarre shadows to lurk across surfaces in crazy patterns, including the bark of the massive tree whose trunk their lean-to was based around.
Bero turned around and gestured to everything surrounding them. “With a handful of poorly-supplied camps and a legion of Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and Sangheili patrolling completely unknown, treacherous alien ground, brother? This troubles me; we must contact the Ultra soon for further instruction, our camps require proper fortification from potential hazards.”
A rogue torrent of water splashing on Bero’s armor from above, followed by the distant howl and hiss of some native beast, only served to emphasize the Major’s observation. Some of the elites in the command center peered about in all directions warily as the howling faded back into the fog and overgrowth outside.
Garak nodded. “Indeed. Brother, if I may, it is confidence at least that our supplies of arms are bountiful. That missing Jiralhanae brought nearly more armament with him then our entire legion combined!”
“Such is the sophistication and tactical finesse of the Jir’a’ul,” Bero chuckled, ditching his seriousness for a fleeting second to galvanize the blunting resolve of his fellow Sangheili warriors. The Minors shared a murmur of assent at their commander’s sarcasm towards Tartarus’ Brutes. “Now, have the Unggoy and Kig-Yar finished constructing their barracks yet?”
“Kig-Yar and Sangheili quarters are complete. However, work on the atmosphere pit and various sniper nests are still ongoing, Bero.”
“Halfwit Unggoy. Come, Garak. I wish to see for myself that they are indeed working. The Legate has no tolerance for sloth among her ranks!”
The others watched briefly as Bero and Garak took their leave of the command lean-to, stepping into the fog and shadows where the camps floodlights failed to properly illuminate the ground. While the Elites’ eyes were elsewhere, dozens of fast-moving blips began appearing on the motion trackers.
Just as brothers were out of sight of the command center, the remaining Sangheili Minors turned to see their equipment going berserk. Motion trackers were alight with activity and their nodes were picking up garbled transmissions from other Covenant positions. The damaged holo-pedestal, still flickering and barely functional, replaced the galaxy with a display of a cackling alien with large, piercing green eyes, tall pointed ears, fangs, and a jagged-horned head before breaking in a shower of blue sparks.
That was when the howling and hissing began again, closer this time.
Two Unggoy were carrying building material from a stack of the ubiquitous purple crates the Covenant kept their field equipment in towards a clearing up ahead of them. Their movement was awkward, with their stocky bodies hefting large metal panels.
“Argh, why do Unggoy always do heavy lifting?” The first one griped.
“Because, we're the true muscle in the Covenant, the real hard workers. Never mind those big furry monkey men,” The other responded in a saucy manner.
“Whoa, hey! What if that missing Captain is still alive and he’s listening to us?” the first cautioned, his beady eyes widening as they reached the clearing.
In the clearing where only a few young saplings and some toadstools had taken root, building of the atmosphere pit was in progress. The site itself was a large oval-shaped quarry, two and half meters deep, and several meters wide with a single earthen ramp leading down into it on one side. Stores of methane and pumps were at the ready nearby, while tools and prefabricated building pieces lay in neat rows along and within the quarry.
“So he’s watching us, whoop-dee-doo. Be a proper Grunt and show some backbone,” the other chided, dropping his panel near a workbench. A sudden drawn out howl thundered from the surrounding trees, sounding like a distant Jiralhanae chieftain’s war cry. The Grunt threw up his arms and fled in terror towards the main camp, leaving the first standing there, surprised.
He then noticed for the first time that something was off about the worksite; all the Unggoy and Kig-Yar soldiers looked paranoid, as if they were pretending to keep busy to not draw attention to themselves. The Jackal who should have been keeping watch on a sniper nest above had seemingly ditched his post too, and his rifle as well.
“Umm, what’s wrong?”
“Shh!” one of the others hissed urgently. “They might be on to us…the bosses aren’t who they claim to be.”
“What?”
“They’re natives in disguise, and they’re not friendly to Covenant! They killed the bird-brain sniper because he knew what they were and tried to sound the alarm.”
Footsteps caught his attention towards a row of tents. The Unggoy relaxed when he noticed it was a group of Sangheili Minors, but tensed again when he saw that they had plasma rifles drawn, and did not look happy.
It was at that moment that the two Elites Bero and Garak arrived on the scene, checking in on the situation. When Bero saw the Minors alert with their weapons out and an Unggoy fleeing in the direction he and his brother had come, he immediately shouted, “What is meaning of this mischief?”
“Ruuun! Berserker Jiralhanae ghost has come to eat us!” the fleeing Unggoy cried.
One of the Minors fixed his gaze on the Major. “Nothing, leader. We’re simply keeping these Unggoy in line; a few of them have been lazy. You are most likely better served back maintaining the camp; we have matters under control here.” Something about the Sangheili voice’s sounded off, and he had yet to stow his plasma rifle. No sane Minor would ever address their superior in such a way.
“…Very well. See to it that the atmosphere pit is complete; we need to finish deployment of the perimeter guns before dawn,” Bero replied. The Minor nodded and turned towards the others, telling the Unggoy to get back to work.
Garak and Bero spoke quietly as the two slowly turned their backs to the work site, and faced the direction of their camp. “Brother, that howling and hissing…”
“…yes,” Bero said. “The natives must be shape shifters…”
The howling began again just a few feet away, and then plasma fire erupted in the camp as it suddenly fell under attack. The brothers nodded, then with lightning speed drew their rifles and spun around just as the enemy was upon them. Garak opened fire as one of the faux-Minors tackled his older sibling.
The body of the Sangheili assaulting Bero transformed in a crackle of green magic. A large, jet black quadrupedal creature with massive blue eyes containing no pupils replaced him. It hissed as it peered down at the Major. Its coat was covered in a carapace much like that of the Yanme’e.
While Bero attempted to wrestle the insectoid creature off, it roared fiercely in his face, revealing its massive fangs. Bero growled back and managed to raise his plasma rifle to the origin of the creature’s sickly hot breath, and fired a burst. With a frantic hiss, the creature slackened its grip and the Elite Major tossed the wounded Changeling off.
It lay on the ground, twitching sporadically. The plasma bolts had done little damage to the beast’s face or external chitin, but they had scorched straight into its throat, doing untold damage to anything inside. Bero had little time to confirm if the alien was no longer a threat, as more of their kind were now appearing by the dozens.
The Unggoy were already scattering and panicking, with only a few more grizzled Unggoy and the lances Kig-Yar from the main camp taking up defense. Garak had already been hit by one of the natives’ horns, which seemed to emit a green stream of energy akin to the Covenant’s own directed energy weapons. His shield flickered, and another four beams from attacking Changelings impacted both Sangheili, stripping their shields and forcing them behind the cover of a stack of crates.
“This is what I feared!” Bero roared, firing his rifle. “That we would encounter natives like this in ill-suited terrain!”
“It is now clear that the Jiralhanae Captain Tartarus sent must lie slain, then,” Garak replied. One of the methane tanks exploded, and the duo could hear someone beyond cover in the hollow of a large tree trunk trying to frantically assemble an unfinished Type-29 Shade turret.
The would-be gunner, likely a Grunt, cried out as a plasma grenade suddenly stuck to the body of the turret. “Not again!” Both were permanently knocked out of commission when the explosive went off, sending bits of shattered metal, bark, and water spray in all directions.
Burning methane and leaking plasma scorched the forest clearing, and some of the drier foliage began to catch ablaze, casting a wild glow about the area.
“We may soon join the Jiralhanae ourselves, brother. These aliens must have captured a cache of our weapons, and the Huragok is likely captured or dead,” Bero said with resignation, clutching his rifle with both hands.
It was clear, as more than just green energy streams were responding to the disorganized Covenant lance’s plasma fire. The stuttering sound of Brute Spiker carbines, and the burst of plasma pistols and a few plasma rifles echoed from every direction.
“Perhaps,” Garak replied, firing several bolts out at the Changelings. “But we are the aliens here. Should we attempt to muster the lance?”
Howling cut in before Bero could respond. Two Changelings appeared above them, perched higher on a nearby tree trunk. Three more appeared as the crates – the Elites’ only cover - dissolved into ash from a spell, hissing and popping. The trio held leashes which connected to the true source of the howling, an entire pack of Timberwolves under the Changeling force’s control.
Every one of the new hostiles let out low, threatening growls, and a helmeted Changeling approached to the middle of the group, glaring at the now exposed Sangheili. The clumps of Changelings together sounded like a colony of agitated bats whose cavern had just been disturbed. The group had moved and attacked so quickly and with such ferocity, it seemed to the Sangheili almost as if the native beings were some sort of angry spirits of the forest. Further resistance was futile.
“No, Garak. It’s up to the Legate, now. We've already lost.” Bero said angrily, lowering his rifle. “You’ve proven your martial prowess worthy of the Covenant with this victory, native. Kill us or question us, but do not prolong our humiliation with idle glaring.”
Garak looked behind the Changelings, and watched the remaining Unggoy and Kig-Yar finally breaking rank, wishing in vain for a pair of M'Galekgolo to appear and obliterate the defiant natives. Instead, all he heard was the helmeted Changeling's hiss, as saliva dripped from its fangs.
“Leader, we believe the violet one is the commander of this particular camp of intruders,” A Changeling declared, speaking to the helmeted one in their own language. “Perhaps they will be of interest to our Queens?”
“Their anger, their fanaticism, it is almost as delicious as love,” it answered. “Subjugate! Bring them back to the Badlands for processing!”
The Changelings hissed in agreement. A pair of them hovered over close to the Sangheili, regarded them with sneers for a moment, then promptly toppled both with savage blows. The entire group morphed into false copies of Garak and Bero, and drew their stolen plasma rifles.
While the Sangheili soldiers were dragged off into the tangled flora, the remnants of the defeated infantry lance were frantically scattering throughout the Everfree Forest.
Other camps were already under attack as the Everfree itself seemed to come to life with activity. A whole army of Changelings had revealed itself to be lurking amidst the labyrinth of the forest. The majority of leaderless Unggoy and Kig-Yar were either unknowingly heading towards the distant property of the zebra, Zecora, or were about to blunder right into the sleeping town of Ponyville itself. Anyone else less fortunate soon had to deal with the many hazards and predators of the forest.
In Twilight and Spike’s bedroom, Dadab awoke with a start.
The former Covenant deacon had taken a position on the wooden floor near Spike’s bed, sleeping in the common Unggoy military fashion. Dadab had not yet taken the liberty of growing accustomed to claiming a bed for himself even despite Twilight’s insistence to the contrary. Unggoy were usually denied such luxuries within the military, regardless of their rank.
Spike, being closest, was the first to be woken up by the alien’s yelp. “Whoa! What’s the matter, space guy? Did you have a bad dream?”
While the Grunt processed Spike’s question and his sudden interruption of sleep, Twilight awoke as well and turned on a bedside lamp. “Dadab, are you alright?” she asked. A thought crossed her mind and she became worried. “Are you low on methane?”
“N – no,” Dadab finally managed, collecting himself. “I’m fine, but…disturbance. I just sensed a disturbance. Big scary forest!”
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Huh...forgot this was here
Wow, this is awesome I was waiting for this forever, I love this story can't wait for more.
4557586 What portion anywhere explicitly says they were ok with it? They didn't address the fact that they needed to kill the Jiralhanae to stop him from killing Applejack, because the main concern at the time was whether Applejack herself was still alive.
They already knew from Dadab's accounts that the Covenant were no strangers to war and violence. What would have been unacceptable is if it had been an Equestrian or other native the aliens had killed, and Twilight and the others were "ok" with it.
4557620
Oook.
That sounds logical.
Anyway, keep up the good work.
Also, for some reason, I feel that Chur was kinda meaner in contact harvest. If I'm correct, she wanted to kill of dabab because he had seen her mess with the luminary and perform heresy.
And here I was hoping the Sang. brothers would end up going to ponyville Wth a few grunts and jackals.