Legends

by PseudoFiction

“And to the dust we shall return.”

Marko and Ishmir had suffered their fair share of defeat at the hands of the Covenant. It was frustrating to say the least – spending days, sometimes even weeks behind enemy lines to line up one shot on a high ranking alien official or to sabotage a high value supply line. And then turn around and receive orders to retreat again as the Covenant pushed the UNSC navy back regardless.

So imagine their glee when they saw the sizeable Covenant force driven before them.

There was some disappointment that the guns doing the killing wasn’t theirs, but the way the Covenant exploded on the wrong side of golden beams of light was kind of cool regardless.

The forerunner ‘sentinels’ they had activated flew out of the woodwork, swarming the main facility and converging on the Covenant drop ships. The sentinels themselves didn’t look particularly intimidating; a simple spherical core with a glowing eye surrounded by stubby wing-like boons that pivoted and reconfigured based on whether they were hovering, flying or lining up for a shot.

Their central ‘eye’ would glow white hot for a moment, then spill forth a thick beam of golden energy that evaporated anything it came into contact with. And ignoring the two humans and their alicorn compatriot, the sentinels cut into the Covenant like a hot knife through butter.

The tower leading up to the portal glowing above them was littered with handfuls of Covenant infantry scrambling to defend themselves from the wave of incoming sentinels. Several piece of phantom wreckage smoked where they had landed across the tiers of the tower. The drop ship the trio had liberated only a few minutes ago was a shouldering pile of slag at the bottom treads of the main staircase.

At the top of the tower a single phantom still held the line. All its guns were flashing, spreading streams of plasma into the sentinels as they approached. Several of the forerunner machines flashed, their bubble-shaped shields flashing and disappearing before the plasma overwhelmed the chasse and sent them plummeting to the deck.

The retribution was relentless. Six tracer beams of forerunner particle weapons connected with the phantom, boiling the armor before the golden light skewered the craft. Explosions rippled somewhere inside the cockpit and the vehicle listed heavily, sliding into the portal and disappearing in a flash.

Their fire support down the aliens doubled their retreat, throwing themselves at the portal to escape. But several of the sentinels vaporized them before they got halfway.

“Focus your fire!” a mighty roar bellowed, automatically translated by the headhunters’ SPI armor systems. The synthesized translator sounded familiar, and looking up both Marko and Ishmir spotted the head of the Covenant snake.

The chieftain who was running the show had his hammer slung across his back and was stepping back to slip around one of the pieces of phantom wreckage it used for cover. A pulse carbine gripped in both claws, it held up the weapon and took down a sentinel with a few precise shots before waving to its fellows.

“Stand your ground!” the chieftain encouraged. “Remain on the line!”

The orders seemed to rally the Covenant. Brutes in particular stood their ground and let the sentinels have it. Shields popped by the dozens and the forerunner automatons dropped from the air like a deadly exploding hail.

Twilight cried out and dove to one side when one sentinel slammed into the ground beside them.

“We need to move,” Ishmir yelled, thrusting a fist forward in a gesture for them to attack.

“Got it! Last to put a bullet in that chieftain is a rotten egg!”

Gathering themselves, Flintlock dashed for the bottom of the steps. At the same time enemy fire stitched the platform beside them. Pink crystalline shards of energy fired from a needler exploded leaving a trail of scorch marks in the ground as if tracing their footsteps.

Marko and Ishmir fired their weapons while the trio pounded up the first flight of steps along the tower’s side. The air filled with crisscross patterns of pink energy shards, plasma bolts and streaks of shotgun slugs and M392 tracers.

They captured the first platform out of the four leading to the portal at the top. Marko was in first, diving forward and firing his shotgun one-handed into a jackal’s face. The alien plummeted over the side of the tower and fell out of sight as Marko hit the deck and slid into cover. Twilight followed closely, snapping up her assault rifle to cover Marko’s blind flank with Ishmir watching her opposite side.

Then she spotted it. Up the next flight of stairs a grunt loomed into view, waddling over the summit. Its weapon was missing, but it held a glowing ball of light in one hand. Rearing back, the alien prepared to peg a grenade down at Flintlock. But Twilight Sparkle had the little fucker in her sights…

The trigger pulled all the way back and nothing happened. Twilight was stunned, frozen on the spot wondering what the hell was happening. She took her eyes off target and looked down at the ammo counter. The MA5C’s readout was red with ‘00’ blinking across the LCD.

She gaped, torn between running for cover and reloading. But by the time she considered switching to her pistol it was too late.

The grenade left the grunt’s hand and came sailing downward…

“GRENADE!”

A freight train slammed into Twilight Sparkle’s ribs, lifting the princess from her hooves and shoving her heavily into Marko’s back. Her vision blurred for a moment and it took some effort to focus and right herself.

Finding her hooves, Twilight looked up to see Ishmir crouched over her. His shields were alight as he took some small arms fire. But that wasn’t what he and Twilight were staring at. Reflected in the alicorn’s eyes was a flaring blue ball of light latched to Ishmir’s left forearm.

His gold-tinted gaze snapped up in a split second to lock with Twilight’s eyes, and it was as if a beam of telepathy connected the two.

Twilight’s mouth moved, but even as she started to say; “Wait, don’t…!” he had his hand on her back and he shoved her back to the ground.

“Stay down, Warlock!”

He was out of Twilight’s sight a second later, like he had enabled his active camouflage and faded into the night. But in reality he had slipped around the low wall Marko and Warlock used for cover and was sprinting full tilt up the next flight of stairs.

Twilight screamed, she was sure she meant to articulate actual words, but all that came out was a scream of terror and anger as she tried to follow. However Marko grabbed her and forced the princess to the ground again.

There was no way he could have known what was going on – then again with the near telepathic connection between the headhunters perhaps he did – but Ishmir had told her to stay put, so Marko made sure she stayed put. It didn’t stop the alicorn from struggling as best as she could to wriggle free of his gauntlets. It turned out to be a waste of energy.

In the meantime Ishmir was halfway up to the next platform. He was climbing the steps four at a time, the servos in his legs whining as he disabled the armor’s safeties and pushed the SPI as hard as it would go. His HUD was out, as well as thermal support and life support. He had even routed power away from his active camo to boost his shields as high as they would go. If the crackling of the shield generator was anything to go by this would be his trusted armor’s last run.

Something came to mind in those fleeting milliseconds. Not a lifetime worth of strife and suffering at the hands of a merciless foe; not the lessons Lieutenant Ambrose had drilled into him during training; not the thrill of success after that first victory, the memories of Marko and he delving into the depths of hell and coming out the other side kicking and cursing and ready for more…

It was a passage he had read in a dusty old book. A passage he had recited many times when looking for motivation or courage. A passage he knew by heart.

“Cursed be the ground for our sake,” the headhunter whispered.

Plasma washed over him, spiking the internal temperature to an unbearable degree, but Ishmir pushed through the blistering pain and sweat. Arcs of golden light surrounded his body as he kept his rifle shoulder and fired on the run.

Bullets snapped through heads and torsos as they exposed themselves. Grunts dropped streaming, jackals toppled away gargling. Finally Ishmir hit the summit of the second platform and the cool relieve of a massive shadow loomed over him.

“Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for us.”

The brute squad leader locking down the second platform roared as it held up its spike rifle. The two curved bayonets along the front of the weapon were ideal cutting weapons and a single swipe could take Ishmir’s head clean off.

He ducked sideways while firing, the blades just about nipping the edge of Ishmir’s shields. And whereas the brute’s swing went wide, all of Ishmir’s shots hit their target. Fire rounds flattened against the power armor before it overloaded and practically exploded, allowing the next two rounds to tear through the alien’s mid-section.

Grabbing the dying brute by the face with his off hand, Ishmir pulled hard to one side to get the obstacle out of his way, his rifle still shouldered and still barking out shots into a jackal just behind…

Everything muted. The world had suddenly turned a blinding shade of blue and the Spartan’s inner ear told him the world was spinning all around him. It was only when the ground gave him a reassuring kiss that Ishmir realized the grenade latched to him had exploded.

But there was no pain. Just a comforting warmth, and an itch somewhere on his chest that would need later attention. Pushing his shields must have worked to stave off the concussive blast of the grenade.

The alarms in his helmet indicating catastrophic armor failure kept him a notch above unconsciousness, right on the threshold of a deep and profound desire to just fucking die.

Unfortunately he couldn’t just slip. There was still work to be done.

Finding his balance the Spartan-3 pushed to his feet and looked around. Blood pooled under his boots and there was a crack across his field of vision. His HUD was still dead so there was no telling what state his shields were in. no matter.

He looked for his rifle. It was nowhere to be seen. That could be problematic. Ishmir still didn’t worry about it though. He felt down his side and pulled his trusty M6C/SOCOM from his thigh. Then looking up the next flight of stairs, he raised the gun…

He was thrown as he tried to aim with two hands. It was only then that he looked down and realized his left arm ended just under the shoulder. His armor was shattered, melted away with the edges fused into his charred, blackened skin. He noted some exposed ribs and the flash of red underneath where his heart was beating in overtime.

This was a one-way trip after all.

Ishmir leapt up the next flight of stairs with the last of his energy reserves, firing his weapon one-handed.

“For out of the ground we were taken, for the dust we are.”

He wasn’t as steady as he would have liked, but he still saw wounded Covenant go down to a plethora of shots. Their return fire was all the more punishing though. Each plasma hit burned like a thousand hellfires. One lucky needler shard hit him in the side and exploded into a cloud of ruby colored flesh. Ignoring the bitter pain was easier said than done, but dropping to his knee for a moment, Ishmir was able to push off and press on.

On the top tread of the third platform Ishmir sighted his target. It stepped into view the same way the brute on the previous platform did.

The towering mountain of a chieftain stepped back from a low wall and put some shots into a hovering sentinel, gutting the little machine and sending it crashing to the deck. The world was moving in slow motion as Ishmir aimed.

His finger squeezed carefully and he put a round clean in the side of the chieftain’s face. The bullet hit the soft flesh of its cheek and sent the alien reeling.

The chieftain did a small pirouette, stumbling over its own feet as it struggled for balance, spitting out globs of blood. When the alien looked up again, squaring off to Ishmir he saw his round had torn a chunk out of the chieftain’s face.

Ishmir cried out as something hit his leg. It burned and forced him down to one knee. But still pulling the trigger he powered through and stood again. His following shots slammed into the chieftain’s armor, sparking and failing to penetrate.

At the same time the brute raised its pulse rifle and let loose a single shot.

Ishmir didn’t feel it. What he did feel though was the whiplash snapping his head back sharply. His vision blurred and blood filled his eyes by the time his gaze drifted downward. Through the cracked hole in his visor the chieftain had put there, Ishmir saw two more shots spark harmlessly on the brute’s chest.

Twip-twip, his pistol let loose two more blind shots before finally; click.

Ishmir’s knees hit the ground and his arm weakened.

Click-click-click, the empty gun clicked as his finger still reflexively worked the trigger.

His vision narrowed and everything seemed to go darker. By the time he slumped forward and hit the ground face down – click-click-click – everything had gone black.

“And to the dust we shall return.”

It was the last conscious thought the synapsis fired through his brain. The electrical signals faded. His finger no longer pulled at the trigger.

Ishmir-G314 was no more.

Down below, Twilight Sparkle had seen the pulse round pass through Ishmir’s head before he went down and she stared in stunned silence. The crack of Marko’s shotgun went unheard and the hiss of a plasma bolt whirling past her ear didn’t even make her flinch.

Her mind was racing. But she wasn’t in the fight. She was in a dangerous spiral of ‘what if.’

What if she had reloaded her rifle after their last engagement? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, STUPID mistake! She could have killed that grunt before it threw the grenade.

But even then, why didn’t she switch to her sidearm? Why didn’t she erect a shield to deflect the grenade? Why wasn’t she faster? Why was she so damn slow? So fucking slow!

She could have even torn the grenade from Ishmir with her magic. She could have isolated the grenade in a magical bubble. She could have teleported it back up at the Covenant.

So many things she could have done. If only she had been faster. If only she had been better…

He’s dead, she finally thought. He’s dead and it’s my fault.

Tears were stinging Twilight’s eyes when she heard a muffled cry. It was small at first, hushed and barely audible. Then it grew in desperation and volume very suddenly.

“WARLOCK! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

Marko reached back to grab her, but Twilight was already gone. Her horn was a flare with furious purple flames as she broke cover and ran up the flight of steps to the next platform. She was screaming as she ran, not just with anger and frustration. It was a rage reserved for a wounded beast that threw everything it had into a final desperate act of suicidal defiance against its foes.

Plasma splashed against the shield surrounding Twilight as her eyes changed just like before. Only instead of going pure white with the magic of friendship, her eyes went a smoky black and green. A magic of pure rage lit up inside her and could only be quenched in Covenant blood.

Wings flared, Twilight Sparkle threw herself over the top steps and onto the second platform. Her weapons lay forgotten in her holsters as she laid into the Covenant troops remaining after Ishmir’s initial push with her magic. A shield of light stopped incoming shots while a blade of magic tore through the aliens. Arrowheads turned jackals into pincushions. A large magical battle axe cleaved a brute skull clean in two while a plethora of small glass-like daggers rained on the remaining grunts.

Her first checkpoint clear, Twilight abandoned magically manifested weapons and switched to her MA5C. A full magazine clicked in place as she sprinted up the next set of stairs, flapping her wings to gain more momentum.

The assault rifle barked short bursts, keeping the covenant on the third platform pinned as she closed in. the slaughter on the platform below was doubled in intensity. Breaching over the next summit, Twilight let the aliens have everything she had.

Gutting a jackal with a magical bayonet as she passed, she put a few rounds in a grunt’s face at point blank range then laid into a staggering brute. The taller squad leader had one of those grenade launchers with the long bladed hilt. The brute swung the weapon, but Twilight teleported out of the way, appearing behind the brute in the blink of an eye.

She swung the rifle stock around so hard it was a miracle the impact with the brute’s head didn’t snap the weapon in half. The brute’s skull yielded to the now gore-splattered weapon and the creature slumped. Twilight was already moving on to the next collection of aliens.

Reloading she turned and immediately sprayed a group of fleeing Covenant, mowing them down before they reached the thread of the final flight of stairs leading to the portal above.

As she focused on them however something howled past her face. Blinking away the spots in her vision, Twilight went to turn when she took a round to her barrel. The impact drove the wind from her lungs and threw Twilight to the deck where she slid to a halt in a rainbow pallet of congealing blood.

The plasma round sizzled against her armor, boiling away the top layers. It felt hot, but only for a short while as the magical ceramic in the armor cancelled out the energy of the plasma and saved her from third degree burns.

But she wasn’t watching the sparkling and sizzling of plasma on her armor. She had landed right next to Ishmir’s still body, and she stared at his broken visor for a moment. She couldn’t even see his face with the amount of blood that pooled in his helmet.

Turning her gaze she saw the brute who had nailed her standing one second, then with the roar of a shotgun the creature’s belly was torn away and the alien fell, replaced by Marko. The Spartan turned and continued laying into the Covenant stragglers. He had Twilight and Ishmir’s backs until the bitter end.

Staggering to her hooves and finding her pistol, Twilight looked up the last flight of stairs. At the top she spotted the chieftain who had ended Ishmir. Only instead of standing to face them, its back was turned as it made for the portal.

“No you fucking don’t,” Twilight snarled, running after it.

She made it up the stairs five at a time, her pistol letting out whisper quiet shots. The jackals who paused their retreats to turn and slow her down didn’t even have time to raise their wrist mounted shields. Each fell and tumbled down past Twilight as she put clean headshots through them. She only veered to avoid crashing into their tumbling bodies, leaping high to jump clean over the last one.

Giving her wings one mighty flap, Twilight Sparkle rose up like an angel of death and landed heavily on all fours before the portal in the center of the top platform. Dead aliens and broken sentinels littered the space, and ahead she saw the chieftain disappear into the portal.

She was about to run after it, thinking she was the last thing standing. Only then did the walking tank in her path move.

The hunter was a might blue armored behemoth. Usually one of a pair, the last hunter standing stood its ground beside the smoking remains of blue armor fused with the platform beside it. Surrounding the dead hunter were at least a dozen trashed sentinels.

The hunter still standing was wearing charred, blackened armor. Globs of orange blood and dead, withered eels pooled around its boots and the right arm, usually reserved for the fused fuel rod cannon, was missing entirely. But despite that the mighty behemoth still hefted its heavy arm-mounted shield and slammed it into the deck between Twilight Sparkle and the escaping brute chieftain.

In one final act of defiance, the wounded hunter let out a bellowing roar, the thousands of aliens in the colony making up the creature vibrating in perfect harmony.

Twilight Sparkle matched the roar with her own voice and threw her pistol into its holster before charging the beast.

As she built up speed, the bubble of purple energy forming around her picked up in intensity until finally she shot forth a beam of blinding light. The magic connected with the hunter, picking the giant up and throwing it backwards through the portal.

Only getting warmed up, Warlock plunged through the exit portal after it.

Comments

[stapart]

Ishmir NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

[Sol Nemesis]

What a Badass.