• Published 6th Dec 2013
  • 10,320 Views, 784 Comments

Guardian - Requiem17

After making an emergency slipspace exit Spartan II Ale finds himself the last survivor of UNSC Enduring Ember. Ale becomes the defender of Equestria. But there are dark forces rising. Can Ale defend our beloved ponies?

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It Just Isn't My Day

Author's Note:

Hey! What are you doing here?! This is the old version of this story! Click here for the new and improved version of this tale. Trust me, it's a lot better than the old one. All rewritten chapters have been marked with a *, so keep a look out! I hope you all enjoy! With regards, Req~

.... You're still here? What did I tell you? Ah, you're just curious ain't cha? Well, read on if you dare, but you shouldn't really judge until you read the rewritten chapters that are currently under works. Here's the link if you changed your mind. New Chappie! Now go on! Git! Shoo!

*Spartan Ale report to the bridge.*

Ale abruptly looked up at the sound of the loudspeakers, stopping his current task of polishing his cyan blue face plate. He stood up while tossing the rag aside and walked towards the exit of his quarters. The door slid open revealing a brightly lit hallway. He stepped out and began heading towards the command deck, the ship gently rumbling while he walked. As he slipped his helmet on, he opened a channel to Captain Sanders. "What seems to be the problem sir?" The bottom left corner of his HUD lit up as the camera feed to the bridge flickered to life. The grizzled captain was hunched over behind the communications lieutenant, peering at the console.

At the sound of his voice Sanders straightened and replied, “We got a distress call from a nearby cargo ship. She is reporting engine malfunctions and requires assistance." Ale relaxed. He may be a Spartan but that doesn't mean he wants to go looking for a fight, especially after the long grueling years with the Covenant. "I'm taking precautions and having everyone manning their stations. I haven't lost a staff member since the treaty and I don't intend on losing one now."

Ale acknowledged and cut the feed. He continued walking and began to think about his current situation. It's been two years since the Ark Event. The Covenant had split into factions and have been fighting each other in an epic power game. This was good news for the UNSC. The faction loyal to the Arbiter was slowly winning with the assistance of the scattered human forces. The Sangheili would dominate space battles while the humans were very successful in ground skirmishes. With the Covenant no longer a threat, humanity had begun to colonize again on the glass fields of fallen planets.

Ale was then transferred from the defense of Earth to a post aboard a brand new standard battle class frigate, the Enduring Ember. It wasn't impressive or all that pretty to look at but it got the job done. The Ember was assigned to escort colony and cargo ships to their destinations. It was a quiet task most of the time due to most hostiles being discouraged by the escort. On occasion there would be a small force of ex-Covenant forces who would attempt to board the ships. They didn’t last long when Ale was around. When the ships did reach their destinations the Ember would then patrol the system while waiting for their next directive. This is what they were currently doing, or at least that's what Ale was told.

ONI wasn’t known for their honesty. There is so much red tape surrounding them that a Covenant glassing couldn’t reach through it. Of course Ale knew all too well what ONI can do. He wasn't just any old Spartan II. He was a special branch that was even kept secret from the Spartan IIs original creator, Dr. Cathrine Halsey.

Ale mentally shook his thoughts away as he was rapidly approaching the command deck. The staff of the ship was running back and forth across the hallway to their respective posts as Sanders had ordered, keeping well clear of the seven foot tall, half ton Spartan. Ale reached the end of the hallway; the blast doors slid open revealing the command room. The room was filled with screens with staff monitoring them constantly. Captain Sanders was standing next to his chair clearly expecting Ale. "Reporting as ordered sir."

"Good. We are just about to initiate the drives," he said as he turned towards the lieutenant at the navigation console. "After we jump I want the power from the secondary drives to be rerouted from the MAC to the main slip space engines. I want to be hot even after we jump."

"Yes sir, engines are spinning up."

"This will be a relatively short jump. ETA 15 minutes," Sanders said.

"Sir, we're ready to jump on your command."

"Let’s go boys, those civvies won't help themselves." At this the lieutenant initiated the drives. The ship stopped rumbling and seemed to coast in utter silence. No matter how many times Ale witnessed the tearing of space in front of him it still made him queasy. The swirling blackness held many unknowns. It didn’t help that mankind has navigated slip space for almost two centuries and accidents still happened. The last accident was two decades ago. A science vessel appeared at its desired destination on time, which is rare in itself since most vessels experience some sort of time flux while traveling in slip space, with no crew to speak of. They just vanished. These thoughts didn't help Ale control his flopping stomach as he felt the ship accelerate into the maw in front of him.


"Prepare to exit slip space,” Sanders announced. Ale stood at attention to the right of the captains’ chair. He felt the ship decelerate and witnessed the stars come into focus. "Scan for the cargo ship." Ale watched on in silence.

The lieutenant manning the weapons console replied, “Sir, the ship isn't here."

"What do you mean?"

The lieutenant looked nervous, “Their beacon isn't registering on the radar. It's like they were never here." Captain Sanders looked so red Ale thought he was going to boil away.

"What do you mean they’re not there?!" The captain was studying his tactical pad intently. Ale looked forward into space and noticed the stars shimmer unnaturally. He was about to speak up when the ships AI interrupted.

"Nine contacts sir, 1500 kilometers straight ahead," her feminine voice did nothing to stop a feeling of dread roll along Ales spine.

"Fuck! Get us the hell out of here!" Sanders yelled in rage. Ale sucked in a breath as three Covenant cruisers and six frigates came into view. He knew this was a heavyweight fight that they couldn’t hope to fight against.

"Where do you want us to go sir?"

"Anywhere but here lieutenant! Go to Earth if you have to!"

Ale felt the ship accelerate and once more witnessed the gaping hole of slip space in front of him. "Sir, slip space drives are 5% from redlining."

"Just give me every ounce of speed we got!" Sanders yelled.

"Yes sir." Ale let out the breath he had been holding as they entered slip space. "ETA one hour until destination sir." Sanders sighed and began to sit down, only to be violently thrown from his chair as the ship shuddered heavily.

"What the hell was that!" Sanders screamed as he wiped the blood from a gash on his forehead.

"Sir! One of the cruisers slipped in behind us before the tear closed! We've been hit by a plasma torpedo!"

"I thought slip space messed up their guidance system,” Sanders exclaimed as he climbed back into his seat.

The lieutenant manning the weapons console yelled, "They're using something else sir! It's like nothing I've ever seen!"

The ship shuddered again. "Sir, low level decks venting atmosphere! Multiple reports are coming in! We can't take this beating much longer!"

"This bucket won’t hold together for much longer people! Does anyone have an idea?”

A Spartans training required many different subjects. They needed to be smart and creative, not just brute strength. As a result Ale was a jack of all trades. He was fascinated by slip space as he was terrified of it. His interest in it had caused him to study theoretical physics and slip space applications in his free time. Ale spoke up, "Sir, we can perform an emergency slip space exit. It's dangerous but it's better than being blown the hell out of." Sanders turned towards the navigation lieutenant.

"Can we do that?" Sanders question gave the lieutenant a look of worry on his face.

"It will damage the drives and there are other unknown outcomes sir." Just then the ship took another impact. "Sir! Engines are redlining and there are reports of heavy damage to the lower decks! They're trying to nail the engines!" Sanders had a cool look as he looked at the lieutenant.

"Do as Ale says."

"Aye aye sir." The lieutenant touched a few controls. "Exiting slip space no…" The ship suddenly lurched downward into what looked like a bubble below the current of slip space. The ship jerked causing Ale to stumble. A bright flash appeared that not even Ales' face plate could polarize to.

Ale then knew blackness.