Death
Death. The word rang throughout Jericho-G252’s head like a bunch of whispering voices. The Spartan sat in his assigned drop pod with the shadow from the pod’s opening covering most of his body, pondering on the many different ways of how much death he would see in this upcoming deployment.
No matter how loud it was with the talking and laughter of ODSTs in the drop pod room, Jericho just couldn’t get that word out of his head. Jericho’s task, along with many other squads, was to drop out of orbit from the UNSC Desert Heat and into New Birmingham, Victoria to evacuate civilians.
Jericho leaned his left shoulder on the side of the pod, starting to fall asleep while waiting. The 16 year old Spartan felt a bit relieved when he found out what he’d be doing: evacuation. Of course, Jericho also wanted to be part of the real action with the rest of the marines, ODSTs and Spartans and finally get revenge for what the Covenant had done to him. But a part of him didn’t want all of those lives to be lost in New Alexandria, or his home planet of Miridem, to be killed from the glassing.
Jericho also felt afraid. Afraid for his own life, as well as the lives of his squad mates. Afraid of whatever could go wrong. This was a war that humanity had been fighting for 27 years; at some point, things would certainly go wrong. Especially after what happened to his family, he didn’t want to see it again.
After all, Jericho was from Gamma Company; the company that contained the newest and youngest batch of Spartan IIIs. This wasn’t some intense training mission in the dark depths of the jungles of Onyx. This was real; Jericho knew people were going to die. He knew he was going to see good men, women, and more innocent lives lost. That was what scared him the most, and he was a Spartan. Did any of the older Spartans feel like that on their first real mission? He hoped they did. They wouldn’t be human if they didn’t feel it.
Damn, I wish I was old enough to drink. Then again--
“Hey! You feelin’ alright?” said a voice.
Jericho snapped his blue eyes up, again becoming aware of everything happening around him. He turned his gaze to two ODSTs in their late 20s standing in front of him, clad in the ODST Battle Dress Uniform without their helmets. One appeared to be wearing the sniper class BDU, while the other wore the standard BDU. Looking at the letters engraved on their shoulder pieces, it appeared that the blood type of the sniper ODST was O negative, while the other’s blood type was AB.
“Watch who you’re talking to, Sergeant,” said the other ODST in a hushed voice, “that’s a Spartan.” Jericho instantly saw a look of fear and embarrassment in the first ODST’s eyes as they widened.
“Sorry sir. Your armor looked like the standard BDU in the dark and I assumed--”
Jericho stood up from his drop pod as the ODST said that, revealing his olive colored Mark II SPI armor, blonde colored recon haircut, and cream colored face in the open light of the frigate. The Spartan took a step toward them. The two ODSTs took a step back even if they were were two heads taller than the him, as if they were children intimidated by an animal. In a sense, that made them look stupid.
“Don’t call me ‘sir’, Sergeant. I’m an NCO.”
Their body language told the Spartan that they were relieved after he said that. What’d they think I was gonna do, beat them up? Jericho chuckled. If this is how all Spartans are treated, I am going to have a good time with these guys.
“Wow, I am really sorry about that... but if you’re not an officer, then what--” the Sergeant with the sniper armor was interrupted by the Spartan.
“Petty Officer Third Class”
“...what?” the second ODST asked.
“My rank is Petty Officer Third Class.” Jericho had forgotten that the ODSTs were part of the UNSC Marine Corps, as ranks were different depending on the branch.
“Well, yes,” the second ODST said, “though I’ve never heard of a Spartan with a rank lower than my own.”
The boy thought for a moment as he stepped back and sat in his pod, shadows quickly covering one-third of his face. Jericho pulled out his standard combat knife from his sheathe and scraped it against the armor of his right forearm to sharpen it. This, of course, gave the two ODSTs goosebumps. Jericho made a small smirk.
“Heh. Doesn’t that just mean you’ve been alive longer than I have?” Jericho asked as he continued to scrape his knife with swift swipes. The Spartan then realized his mistake; that it was best to just keep his mouth shut.
“How old are you, exactly?” the Sergeant said with a curious tone to his voice, “you look about as old my little brother, ‘cept he’s skinny as hell.”
“Didn’t the brass tell you about us?” the Spartan asked, looked at the Sergeant and listened closely. Was the Spartan program really that much of a secret? To not even tell who these men that Spartan super soldiers they were going to be fighting with were just a bunch of teenagers?
“About what?” the marine asked, crossing his arms as if he were getting ready for a story. Jericho slowed down the rate of his knife sharpening and thought about what he should’ve said next. Jericho had no idea of what to say next, but kept his face straight as if he were being interrogated.
That’s when the Spartan realized why the brass of that particular UNSC frigate probably wouldn’t have told them. The fact that the UNSC’s second best Special Operations unit would be protecting humanity with a bunch of teenagers wouldn’t be very comforting. Then again, the ODSTs would have definitely seen the faces of the other Spartans from Gamma Company, and compared to Jericho, they were much younger. Most were 13-14 years old; unlike most, only a handful of the candidates in Gamma Company were actually 15 years old or older.
We're children who are fighting a war that men are supposed to be fighting, Jericho thought to himself. That seemed a bit embarrassing; humanity's fate relied on the hands of teenagers.
Maybe they were already briefed about the topic, and they were just testing him? That was when Jericho thought of the most brilliant, and stupidest, thing he could come up with.
Jericho's knife sharpening came to a sudden halt. “Then it isn’t in my place to say, Sergeant,” Jericho said bluntly with a monotone voice, “as far as ONI and I are concerned, it’s classified.” That was the something Jericho was one of the best at: making his lies seem real, even if they were complete bullshit. He really didn’t know if ONI wanted that kind of stuff getting out to the public.
“But--” the other ODST was interrupted by Jericho as he got up, putting on his SPI helmet. Both ODSTs stood there, looking at themselves from the reflection of the Spartan’s golden visor.
“Listen, Sergeant,” Jericho said with a polite tone, sheathing his combat knife with a click, “the drop is gonna start soon, and I just realized that one of the other Spartans may need my help prepping up for it. Are we good?” Jericho held out his hand to the ODST Sergeant, hoping for him to shake it.
Luckily, the ODST did. Jericho smiled and gave the Sergeant a very firm handshake. The type of handshake that would represent the Spartan program.
“Damn, how strong are you?” the Sergeant asked rubbing his armored right hand after letting go of the handshake.
“Good.” Jericho ignored the Sergeant, walked past him, and stood in front of the second ODST. “How about you?” Jericho asked, holding out his hand.
The ODST nodded hesitantly, but shook his hand anyway. Good. Jericho didn’t actually think that these ODSTs would actually be very cooperative with him. Maybe it was to pay respect because of how many Spartans went “MIA” trying to protect planet Reach, the home planet of the Spartans, just a few weeks prior to this. Or maybe it was because they were afraid of him and the other Spartans.
The 105th Shock Troops Division, one of the best ODST units, weren't exactly fans of the Spartans. Jericho had always listened to the stories about the Spartan IIs; one that always stood out to him was how the Master Chief single-handedly took on four ODSTs in a boxing ring, killing 2 of them and leaving the other two critically injured when he was just 14 years old. Maybe these guys had heard about that story as well.
Jericho grabbed an M6G Magnum and attached it to his right thigh armor. As the Spartan smirked and started walking away towards the other side of the SOEIV chamber, he heard the same ODST Sergeant call to him over the sound of men laughing and talking.
“Spartan!” the ODST said again in a loud voice. The only ones who actually stopped to look at the Sergeant was all of the Spartans. If his hearing wasn’t greatly enhanced, Jericho probably wouldn’t have stopped to turn around. As he did, he saw ODST jog over to him. “I never got your name.”
Jericho started to feel as if those two ODSTs could be trusted. “Sierra G252, Sergeant. You?" Jericho said flatly. Until he was sure he could tell his real name to people other than Spartans, he stuck with the go-to callsign of the Spartans: Sierra.
“Sergeant Kunitada. Nice meetin’ you, Spartan,” the ODST replied back and started walking away.
“Likewise, Sergeant Kunitada,” Jericho answered back, feeling a bit better that he knew the marine's name.
Jericho turned around and continued to walk past more ODSTs and saluted an officer as he passed by. The Spartan pressed forward continued looking around for his comrade. All he saw different kinds of weapons and materials that were going to be used in the field, ODSTs who were talking or stretching to prepare for the 270,000 feet drop, and a few Spartans IIIs from Gamma who were sparring. None of them was Petty Officer Third Class Skylar-G316, his best friend.
Where the hell is she? The drop begins in an hour, and she said she needed help with something last night.
Jericho continued walking and came to a complete halt once he reached the entrance; ODSTs of different kinds were coming in and out. Ever so slowly, the Spartan had started to zone out again.
Skylar, like Jericho, was 16 years old and lived on the human colony of Miridem until the Covenant had invaded it in 2544. The two had met when they were only 9 years old in a civilian Pelican Dropship. That was when they were offered the chance to get revenge for what the Covenant had done to them: Project SPARTAN.
Up until the point of the Spartan III augmentations, Jericho had developed crush on Skylar. He had never seen an Asian before that day. She had a nice smile, her charcoal colored hair, her violet colored eyes, her voice and she seemed to be the smartest out of the 330 Spartan candidates in Gamma. Those were all things that made her seem beautiful to Jericho.
The biggest reason Jericho could think of about why they even stuck with each other during basic training was because of how similar their ages were. But when augmentation day came, almost all of Jericho's romantic feelings for Skylar were crushed; his sex drive was lowered immensely. Even now, he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. It surprised him that they were even put into the same team together after they “graduated” from the program.
Again, Jericho’s brain snapped back to reality.
Look at me, thinking about a girl. He grew tired of waiting in front of the entrance to the SOEIV room and getting out of the way so that the other men could pass by him. The Spartan leaned his back against the wall and crossed his arms. More minutes passed as Jericho kept his gaze at the entrance, seeming to ODSTs passing by that he was getting impatient. They couldn’t really tell with his helmet on. Bored as ever, Jericho started humming some of the marching and running cadences that had stuck with him on Onyx over the past years. Jericho mused the time when he got to march a platoon of the other candidates and have them sing a cadence. Good memories, Jericho thought. He sighed and stretched his arms as he continued to lean against the wall.
Eventually, Jericho's thoughts went back to all of the possible outcomes in the upcoming mission. He would let his anger out onto the Covenant, even if he was on evac duty. Over the years as a candidate of the Spartan program, his urge to kill those bastards had only grown bigger and bigger. Jericho imagined how he would finally get to have revenge. A group of stealth Elites would come up behind him and try to ambush him like they had with his family, but with his quick senses and reflexes, he'd turn around and shoot the first elite with his tactical shotgun, killing it at point blank range.
The other two Elites would draw out their energy swords and charge at him. Jericho would shoot the one on the left, injuring it. With the Spartan's small size, he would easily duck down as the next Elite swung its energy sword at him. Once the Elite was confused about where the Spartan went, Jericho would uppercut the Elite's stomach and quickly tackle it, giving a hard time to try and push him off. Jericho would then pull his combat knife out of its sheathe and swiftly slice the Elite's throat with a horizontal thrust, letting its blood spatter all over his visor as he put the knife back in its sheathe. The Elite who Jericho had shot would struggle to get up from the initial blow, but would fail and tumble back down. Jericho would then get up off the second elite's corpse and walk over to the Elite on the ground. It would struggle to get back up from the initial blow. Failing to get back on its feet, it would look up at Jericho as if it were pleading for mercy. Jericho would ignore its pleas and execute it with a shotgun shell to the brain.
Or it would be the complete opposite and the Covenant would give him a quick and painful death: he'd be stabbed by an energy sword, or shot by a sniper, or the braking rockets on his SOEIV would fail during the drop and the impact would kill him, or even worse: being left behind as the Covenant glassed New Birmingham; from what he's heard, the glassing was predicted to happen. Being left behind to die gave Jericho a very sick feeling in his stomach. But that was war for him. That was war for everyone. It never changed. There were so many things associated with the word “war”: sorrow, anger, vengeance, death--
"Jericho, you okay?" a female voice suddenly said. It was Skylar.
It was a cool and peaceful autumn morning in the town of Ponyville. The sound of laughter from the colts and fillies playing outside could be heard, as well as the sound of busy ponies selling goods or making purchases in the town marketplace. Added with the fact that it was a Saturday, Twilight Sparkle knew she was going to have a fantastic day… at least to her standards.
Everypony had their own Saturday morning routines. Some ponies would wake up very early and make breakfast, others would go about their routine as if it were any other day of the week for the upcoming work day, and the colts and fillies would go out and play with their friends. Twilight’s routine? Normally it was: wake up, fold the bed sheets, fix her mane, grab a book, make coffee, wait for Spike to finish making breakfast and plan what to do for the rest of the day, which usually consisted of making a to-do list. Or multiple to-do lists.
However, this was not the case for Twilight that Saturday morning though. Even if she was a princess, she still somehow found time to have late night study sessions in the tree’s study area, and last night’s session was extra late.
The purple alicorn put her head down against and groaned, making it obvious to Spike that she was very tired. For the past few nights, she had been studying astronomy. To Twilight, learning about how the sun, moon, the stars, and space in general worked was very interesting. And since she was Princess Celestia’s former star pupil, Twilight got to ask her all kinds of questions about raising and lowering the sun and moon.
“Here Twi,” Spike said walking up to Twilight with a mug of coffee, “drink up.” It was obvious to Twilight that Spike had been up late as well, except he was reading that volume she had gotten him. Judging from the cover of the comic, it was about aliens terrorizing Equestria.
Twilight lifted her head off of the table and engulfed the mug with her magic. Careful not to spill anything, she levitated the mug through the air and set it onto the table.
“Thanks Spike,” Twilight said groggily as she grabbed a container of liquid coffee creamer, “I appreciate it.”
“Whatever,” Spike muttered under his breath, walking to the sink to clean the dishes from the previous night.
Clearly, Twilight had not heard him and took a bite out of a baby carrot, “Did you say something, Spike?”
“N-nothing important, sorry,” the dragon said back to her, “all I said was you’re welcome.”
Twilight nodded her head in response and poured a small amount vanilla flavored creamer in her coffee. Mixing the coffee around a bit, Twilight broke the silence between the two, “How’s that comic got you… what was it called?”
Spike gently stacked two plates on top of each other. “Heroes Will Rise?”
“Yes, that.”
“It’s amazing, to say the least. Thanks for buying it” Spike responded.
“How so?” Twilight asked curiously as she took a sip from coffee, warming her up a bit.
That’s when Spike’s voice brightened up a bit. “Well in short, it’s about alien warriors who come to Equestria as we start a war and are assumed to be hostile and once they’re trusted, the Royal Guard uses them to destroy Equestria’s enemies,” he said in a long, run-on sentence.
Twilight stretched her wings. That sounds awful! Who would want to write about Equestria fighting against other nations? We’ve always had good relations with them: the Zebra Union, Saddle Arabia… the Griffin Empire... the Changeling Empire... the Dragon Kingdom. Twilight wasn’t sure about the last three.
There was a chance that war could happen at any moment between those 4 nations, and Equestria’s allies were sure to help them. That was too scary to think about. The Changelings had already attacked once, and she really didn’t want something like that to happen again. There was sure to be blood and death. “Death.” The word made Twilight feel sick to her stomach when she thought of it.
Spike’s voice cut right through Twilight’s thoughts, “You’d have to read the comic itself if you want to see more about it. I’d recommend it to you in your free time. The role of Equestria’s princesses plays a very important part of the story’s plotline!”
“Ehh… no thank you, Spike. It sounds interesting, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think that would be the type of story for me. War, I mean,” Twilight said with more life in her voice as she slowly started to liven up.
“Oh well. To each his own,” Spike sighed. Twilight nodded, feeling a bit guilty about turning down Spike’s offer. War and death were two of the worst things combined that made her very uneasy. She was an alicorn, and she knew that something as horrible as that was bound to happen.
The dragon walked up to the pantry and grabbed a some gems from the upper shelf. Munching on the gems walked back to the table and plopped himself at a seat across from Twilight’s.
“Twilight?” Spike asked. The alicorn looked at Spike.
“Have you ever wondered about aliens, somewhere out there?”
“Well yes, Spike. We can’t be the only forms of life in this universe,” Twilight said in a matter-of-factly tone.
“Let me rephrase that,” Spike responded with a gem in his mouth, “have you ever thought about them... coming here?”
For a moment, Twilight thought and rolled her eyes. “As far as I know, Equus is the only planet with any sort of life,” Twilight said bluntly, “ even if there was life beyond this planet, the chances of them being intelligent are very, very slim. And if you’re thinking about the comic I got for you, there’s absolutely no way that we’d ask for help from aliens. Equestria by itself is already a powerful nation.”
“...Way to kill my hopes and dreams, Twilight,” Spike said, continuing to eat his gems.
The mare let out a small giggle. “Sorry. But that’s reality for you.”
Spike smiled, but shook his head and a frown soon followed. “I was kidding about that. It’s just...reality is so harsh and boring. For the past few months, I feel like I haven’t been doing anything useful. I feel like I have no purpose in Equestria until I actually grow up. But then again, I don’t want to be seen as some mindless monster that makes everypony cower in fear. I feel like there should be more to it than just that. I know it sounds like I want to… you know… kill myself… but that’s not it at all. Besides, there wouldn’t be anything for me to do at all if I did that.”
Now Twilight felt bad. Just minutes ago, Spike was talking about something that made him excited. Now, he was talking what made him feel sad.
“Oh Spike,” Twilight said, getting up from her seat and walking over to the young dragon and trying to sound as caring as possible, “don’t say that. For the past few months, and practically my whole life, you’ve always been there for me during the times I’ve needed somepony the most. You may not know it yet, but I really appreciate all you’ve done for me. After all, you are my number one assistant, I’ll find a way to solve your problem of yours.” With that, Twilight put her hoof around Spike and hugged him, feeling his scales against her chest.
After a few moments, Twilight let go of Spike, hoping the hug made him feel a bit better about himself.
The dragon smiled. The hug reminded Spike of another time when she was talking to Rarity and Fluttershy earlier that September. “Thanks Twilight. One thing though?”
“What is it?”
“Earlier this month, you told the girls that you’d help in getting food and supplies for the picnic you planned that you said would happen on September 22: tomorrow,” Spike said plainly, “have you gotten them yet?”
Twilight’s thoughts went all the way back to the day when she said that, forgetting all about the fantastic Saturday she thought she was going to have. How could she have forgotten that? She was the princess of friendship, for Celestia’s sake! Twilight’s heart started to beat faster.
“Oh my gosh! Thanks for reminding me!” Twilight exclaimed, feeling very unorganized, “how did you even remember? You didn’t even plan it”
“Trust me,” Spike said, “if you walked around in my feet-- er hooves… whatever. The point is, if you were in my place, you’d definitely remember saying something like that to Rarity and Fluttershy.”
“Horse feathers! I’ve got to make a list, go into town... all sorts of things! Thanks a bunch, Spike!” Twilight exclaimed, galloping upstairs.
After hearing the sound of Twilight’s hooves fade away, Spike finished eating his last gem, feeling the last of its rock-like textures in his mouth. “One more point for Spike,” the dragon said to himself without any enthusiasm, “I wish something exciting would happen already. Maybe like something out Heroes Will Rise.”
With that out of the way, Spike had started daydreaming about what the characters in his comic were like. Heroes. Spike got up and made his way to the study area upstairs.
I wonder, Spike smiled as he thought to himself, what if... I became a hero? Like them? I’m not exactly a pony, now am I.
Thanks for reading. This is more of an introductory chapter, so it may have seemed a bit boring. If and when I write a new chapter, it'd contain much more action. Since this is my first time writing, I'm going to need some feedback. It'd be appreciated 
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Nice Been some time since I saw a decent it will fit here . Keep going
interesting
the story seems good, the narration is not rushed while there's a good level of description. Nice start 
Nice start so far. Favor and follow.
6635780
6635202
6635443
Oh, thanks guys!
Seems pretty decent, the only area of possible concern is how your treating the SPARTAN III's having not read the novels beyond some info looked up on Halo wiki, the only SPARTAN III's I know of is Noble Team so it's hard to tell how your portrayal of Gamma company is. They seem a bit too human at the moment, but its only an intro, and even if it wasn't child orphaned drafted/shanghaied/volunteered into a super soldier program is always going to be a tricky thing to write. So I'll be watching with great interest.
6635844 I see, thanks. The only books that I've heard of and read which talked about Spartans from Gamma are Halo: Ghosts of Onyx and Halo: Glasslands. The next best place I could think of for finding anything about Gamma was the wiki. I'll try and work on their personalities a bit more.
^These comments have more grammatical errors than your story. It doesnt feel rushed, though I feel I can already see the future story, so a plot twist would probably be favorable in the future.
"For a newbie, you wrote pretty good!"
If you get the reference, your a true halo fan.
6635910
and sh#t I don't get the reference XD
Thanks man
6635910 Ha, I get it!
So your in JROTC? Neat
Anyway the story seems cool and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes
6636441
but high school, ya know?
Yup, and thanks. I really do hope I get the next chapter done soon
6636459 do you have a specific rank of anything?
I'm in JROTC too and that's kind of why I followed you
Anyway I'm just a fuzzy right now but what about you dude?
6636489
Oh, nice man. I'm just a Private, so nothing too special. Got promoted a few weeks ago.
6636645 nice dude
Anything interesting happen at your JROTC?
6636697 Eeyup, I'll actually PM you about it so people won't get tired of us having a conversation
I would not wish the SPI armor on anyone it's a piece of shit. the noble team had energy shields because of them being a spartan 3 spec ops team the rest not so much.
6638465 That's kind of why I gave them SPI armor: because it sucks. I honestly don't think many characters from MLP would stand a chance at first contact if I gave the Spartans MJOLNIR armor. And from what I've heard, most of the Spartan IIIs were issued SPI armor
ill give it a try
most halo pony crossovers tend to die of painful horrible indefinite hiatus
so good luck
You say it was a little boring in the beginning but not so. I like it, it shows that it will be a great story, and I will like to read more. Keep being cool.
6644759 Yeah, I've noticed that as well. As a high schooler, there's no telling if and when I actually finish this. I'll try and keep a decent upload schedule, such as every 1-2 weeks between Friday and Sunday.
, I hope you enjoy the future chapters, if they're successful enough.
6646159 Thanks man
6646530 Most daf. This will be good to see how the younger people will act with the ponys.
Got to say for your first story this is pretty good. The story did not rush like most. Keep up the good work.
To anyone reading this, know that I edited this a tiny bit to change the Spartans' Army ranks to Navy ranks