The UNSC Forward Unto Dawn has drifted into a collision course with an uncharted planet. With Cortana's rampancy growing, Master Chief needs to find a way home.
The year is 2557 AD. Four years, seven months and ten days have passed since the activation of Installation 04B and the annihilation of the Flood. While humanity and the Covenant have struck a truce for the time being, and started to rebuild their civilizations, Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan John-117 has been in cryo-sleep, adrift, while his ancillary AI, Cortana, has been trapped in her own thoughts. She had been looking for a reason -- any reason -- to wake the SPARTAN up. Now she had one.
They were crashing.
{Description Edited 4/25/2014: Clarified Installation 04B} {Edit 05/02/2014: Trimmed character list pending future change}
Rows of glass boxes were lined up in the cavernous Office of Naval Intelligence facility, each holding what Catherine had hoped would be the salvation of humanity; each was a child destined to save civilization. Originally their purpose had been to be the silent arm of the United Nations Space Command's authority on some of the more distant colonies where factions of less-than-satisfied citizens felt that they knew better how to govern themselves than the largest and most powerful single organization in the history of the species. She thought it was a charming, if silly idea. Regardless, her allegiance was to the UNSC, and she would devote every ounce of her ability to protecting it. These children were the penultimate step in her plan. Then, there was John. His blue eyes still pierced her soul when she thought about him. If only she'd known...
"Tell me about the children." The investigator requested. His voice seemed distant as she returned to the here and now, reminded of her current situation. There was a long pause while she collected her thoughts. "Doctor Halsey?"
"You already know everything." She stated simply.
The investigator held out his hand for a moment, almost as if to supplicate for her to tell him again anyway. When it became apparent she would not, he replied. "You kidnapped them."
"Children's minds," she recalled strapping John into one of the beds to undergo one of the augmentation procedures, "are more easily accepting of indoctrination, their bodies more adaptable to augmentation. The result was the ultimate soldier." Ultimate soldier indeed. The first time she saw John in MJOLNIR armor was terrifying, even for her. He towered over all the technicians, and bore the strain of the armor's weight as though it were nothing. "... and because of our success, when the Covenant invaded, we were ready."
"Doctor Halsey, you're bending history for your own favor and you know it. You developed the SPARTANS to crush human rebellion, not to fight the Covenant." He stood, moving to the other side of the table. She watched him with a steely calm.
"When one human world after another fell, when my SPARTANs were all that stood between humanity and extinction... nobody was concerned over why they were originally built."
"So you feel that in the end, your choices were justified."
She brought her hands up slowly, and there was a faint metallic clang as her restraints rested on the table. "My work saved the human race."
There was a long pause while the investigator regarded what she had just said. He started slowly, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you think the SPARTANs' lack of basic humanity helped?"
Catherine's calmness broke. She looked at this man with fear plain on her face. "What are you after? The others before you, they were Naval Intelligence, but you... you're something else."
"Records show Spartans routinely exhibited mildly sociopathic tendencies, difficulty with socialization, furthermore --"
"The records show efficient behavior operating in hazardous situations. I supplied the tools to maintain that efficiency."
"Do you believe the Master Chief succeeded because he was, at his core, broken?"
There was a long silence as Catherine's demeanor changed again. This time, she made no effort to hide her hostility toward this line of questioning. "What does John have to do with this?" She thought for a moment, and it dawned on her. "You want to replace him!"
"The Master Chief is dead."
Defiance filled her voice. "His file reads Missing in Action."
"Catherine," he almost chuckled, "SPARTANs never die."
"Your mistake is seeing Spartans as military hardware. My Spartans are humanity's next step... our destiny as a species. Do not underestimate them. But most of all," her eyes narrowed with determination, "do not underestimate him."
Aboard the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn proximity alarms began to sound. Cortana combed through the systems to find out what the sensors were detecting so she could shut them up -- the number of false alarms that having your ship torn in half can cause are truly staggering -- when she came to a startling conclusion.
They were actually crashing.
"Cheif," she shouted as she turned her holographic projection to face his pod and swiped furiously at the controls, "time to get up!" The cryo-tube began to defrost, and the Dawn began to shake violently. "Any time now, Chief," she added, impatiently. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Spartan began to move, obviously disoriented. Suddenly, he sprung to life. His hands pushed against the lid of the tube as he struggled to get his bearings. "Easy," she cooed, "you've been out for a while."
"Where are we?"
"Still on the Dawn."
"Why did you wake me?"
"Well..." the ship shook again as the gravity of the object they were flying towards gained a better and better grip, "crashing is a good reason, right?"
"Right," he stated plainly. He reached up to pull the manual release on the cryo-tube's lid, which opened with a hiss. He stepped out, stretching only briefly, before walking over to Cortana's hologram. "Ready to get back to work?"
"I thought you'd never ask." She smiled as the SPARTAN pulled her chip from the pedestal that had been projecting her hologram, and put her into his helmet. "We've got a proximity alert lighting up in the ship's planetary sensors. That rumble you feel? That's the ship slowly being torn apart by gravity. When we hit atmo, this ship is going to light up the sky."
Chief ran through the hallways until he found a small hole that had been torn in the hull. He hazarded a glance out and saw a lush, green world with a single moon. "UNSC?"
"No such luck. This planet is uncharted -- wild. If there's life down there, it's not UNSC."
"Covenant?" He spoke with hesitation. They were supposed to have a truce with the Covenant, but the years of hostility were hard for him to overcome.
"I'm not picking up any signals that... oh, wait." She paused as she combed through the Dawn's sensor data. "I'm finding a very faint transmission. Patching it through now."
The guttural sounds of the Elites' language filled the audio transmitters inside Chief's helmet for a few moments before his suit's translation system kicked in.
"...wort ga -- the planet's surface, when our power systems failed. We have crashed on the surface amidst a forest full of new, alien creatures. None yet seem capable of hearing the word of the Covenant, and exploratory expeditions have not returned. Our numbers are small, and we need the support of our fleet. I repeat, if you can hear this, this is the Corvette Fear to Prosperity. We had mounted an expedition to go to the planet's surface, when our power ..." The message began to repeat.
"Covenant." Chief shook his head.
"They must have been part of an advanced scouting party before the end of the war. Their signal is using an encryption that I haven't seen since installation 04."
"Which means they probably won't be happy to see us."
"That's a safe bet." The ship began to shake more violently as the planet grew closer.
"Do we have any control left over the helm?"
"Some basic auxiliary thrusters, but not much. I can try to steer us as far from their crash site as possible, but it won't be much. Chief?"
"Yeah?"
"You might want to get to an escape pod."
"Yeah." He turned and began to sprint down the corridors. As he went, he checked his rifle's ammo. Full magazine, two more spares; that was a grand total of 96 rounds. One frag grenade, one plasma. That's all she wrote. The sound of his boots clanging against the ground echoed through his helmet. His shields flared orange around his body with the force of each step he took, until he turned a corner to a room that was lined with drop pods. ODST drop pods. "Cortana, I thought you were pointing me to the escape pods."
"Well, those got ripped off into the other half of the slipspace portal, so this is the best we have!"
He walked over to one and realized quickly that with all the equipment lining the side of the pod, he wouldn't fit. Without a word, he began to grab the equipment and frames to which it was attached and remove it forcefully. Finally, he was able to squeeze in. He had managed to salvage an SMG from the equipment he removed, and it stuck to the magnetic holster on his back. He pulled the lid down, and the pod flickered to life with a bit of strain. He looked around at the controls, and found a name on a small metal plate, screwed in to the frame. "GySgt Edward M Buck -- 92458-37017-EB. Thanks, Sergeant." He grabbed the controls in front of him.
"Wait for it..." Cortana said with just a bit of hesitation in her voice. "... NOW!"
The pod shot downward with frightening speed. Through the window, Chief could see the Dawn beginning to glow orange, rolling on its side as it fell. Soon, flames began to lick his field of view as the heat shield on the pod began to burn off. "Cortana," he said with passive calmness, "can you get a reading on this atmosphere?"
"78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, and less than one percent other. It's almost identical to Earth in the 20th century."
"So, breathable?"
"Should be, yes."
Chief's vision was obscured completely now by the flames that enveloped the drop pod. "Are we on track to miss the Fear to Prosperity?"
"Yeah, but you're not going to like this."
"I already don't."
"We're headed for a lake."
"That's great."
Rainbow sneaked up behind Twilight with the stealth of a cat, aided largely by the cloud she was putting along lazily with her wings. She licked her lips and reared up, delivering a bolt of lightning right over the newly-coronated princess' head, who jumped into the air with her hair standing erect.
"RAINBOW DASH!" She hissed as she landed on the ground again. "I'm gonna..."
Dash took off a little ways and hovered over the lake. "You're gonna what? Come get me? I don't think s--" Twilight flapped her wings and started in Dash's direction. "Oh yeah... I forgot about that." She laughed audibly to herself moments before Twilight slammed into her. The two tussled in mid-air while the rest of their friends, still on the beach, looked on.
"You get 'er, Twilight!" Applejack cajoled gleefully, always eager to see a good friendly competition.
"Twilight, dear," Rarity cooed from under her umbrella, "this is most unbecoming of a princess!"
"I think it looks like FUN!"
"Pinkie Pie, sweetheart, everything looks like fun to you."
"Yuppers!"
"Oh, my... Twilight, Dashie?" Fluttershy chimed in inaudibly, looking at the ever-growing shooting star that had been forming in the background. The two fought on.
"Oh, that hoof to the gut had to hurt, Twi!" Applejack winced.
"I just hit a princess, and I'm getting off scot-free!"
"Oh, I assure you," Twilight said with a grin, "there will be a tax for your action!"
"A tax? Huh?"
"You said 'scot-free'," Twilight returned to her usual self for a moment, "which is derived from the old Equestrian 'scotfreo', meaning 'exempt from royal tax'. Ergo, I declared that there would, in fact, be a tax for hitting me."
"Eggheads..." Dash shook her head.
"Girls, I think we should move..." Fluttershy had gotten to her hooves and was stepping backwards slowly.
"Excuse me? I didn't know it was being an egg-head to have curiosity, Rainbow Dash!"
"It isn't, but hitting everyone else over the head with your curiosity is!"
"I was only trying to teach something!"
"Girls..." Fluttershy went unheard again. The shooting star was now very apparently headed directly for them. "Girls!"
"WHAT?" The bickering fliers said in unison. They blinked in confusion when Fluttershy simply ran, a faint squeak of a scream trailing behind her.
"What was that about?" Applejack asked.
"UH-OH." Pinkie began to shake uncontrollably. "I-t-'s a d-o-o-z-y!"
Twilight looked around just in time to pull Rainbow Dash out of the way with her magic; the loss of concentration caused her wings to cease functioning, and she fell toward the water with Rainbow Dash still clutched to her. The ball of flames whizzed past through the air where they had just been wrestling, and smashed into the water with terrifying force, sending waves in all directions and a fine, foamy mist into the air. Twilight just hoped that there would be enough water left to soften her landing. Soon, the rushing, cataclysmic sound of her impact with the surface filled her ears and her body with the relief of a -- relatively -- soft landing. After floating to the surface, she released Rainbow Dash, who hovered in a dazed state of confusion.
"What is that thing?" Dash said groggily. She pointed with a hoof toward a large metal object floating in the tempestuous waters. It was, as best she could tell, about 6 meters from tip to tail.
"I don't know," Twilight began to paddle backwards, "but it looks hot... we should get away from it."
"I agree!" Dash picked Twilight up and rushed for shore.
The crash was sudden and violent. The ship's braking rockets had fired just a bit too late, leaving Chief to lock his armor. He was immobile. "Cortana," he managed to cough out, "are you there?"
"Still he-e-ere Chief." Her voice glitched a bit. "I'm unlocking your armor now."
"Are you all right?" There was no response. A minute later or so, his arms fell down to his side. They were looking straight up at a clear blue sky, not unlike Earth's. The pod bobbed a bit, reminding him that they had landed in a lake. "Cortana, any details on this lake? Cortana? Cortana!"
"I'm working on it, okay?!" She snapped at him. He remained quiet while she worked, until another couple of minutes later, there was a sigh. "Sorry about that. The lake is about fifty feet deep where we are now. Nothing too serious. It's clean water, minimal microfauna, good temperature... we should be good for ex-fil."
Chief chuckled; this was rare for him. "Why do you do that," he readied himself to pop the hatch, "sigh? You don't have lungs."
Cortana's demeanor softened a bit. "My sub-processes insert little things like that into my speech patterns to make me more relatable. Not that I need that with you; sometimes I wonder which one of us is the real machine."
Chief's face fell flat inside his helmet, but other than that he showed no outward appearance of having been affected by her comment. He popped the hatch, which flew outward like a bomb had gone off.
"Whoa, hold it Chief!" Cortana turned on his HUD devices. "Check the motion sensor. We have two unknowns on our periphery. Might want to check it out first."
Chief nodded and shouldered his rifle. He worked his way around so he was kneeling on the back of the seat and facing the potential hostiles. When he had gathered himself, he stood up, rocking his little boat, and pointed his weapon at the two ... horses? His aim dropped for a fraction of a second before putting a round into a tree five feet or so from the blue one to scare them off. They both screamed -- screamed? -- and ran off. Did those horses have wings?
"Where in the hell are we, Chief?"
"I was hoping you would be able to answer that." He hopped out, his armor making him sink like a stone. He trudged along the bottom of the lake toward the shore. "Something tells me this is going to get worse before it gets any better."
Rol 'Chusufai was an Ultra serving aboard the Fear to Prosperity. His family was one of the most well-respected on Sangheilios, and his battle record was uncanny; he had been personally responsible for the death of a Spartan on Harvest, and had single-handedly -- literally -- strangled the life out of an entire squad of Human marines when all of his weapons had run out of ammunition.
Why, then, he asked himself, am I being sent on a recon mission? I should be held in reserve in case there is a fight. There is no honor in this. He looked out on his unit. It wasn't much to look at, with a dozen Unggoy, five Kig-Yar, three of his own, and -- to his chagrin -- two Jiralhanae. The last he hated so much he didn't even bother to refer to them by their proper name most of the time. He felt that the Humans' name for their kind was much more apt; so he called them the Brutes. The Kig-Yar were foul and loathesome, to be sure, but the Brutes were worse still. They held power in the Covenant, they demanded respect, and their bloodthirst was unrivaled. Honor was a foreign concept to the Brutes, and as such they often preferred to eat their enemy after killing them.
Zeal and ruthlessness were not in and of themselves to be despised, by any means. They were traits that lent themselves to effective warriors, but in the absence of respect and rigorously enforced castes, they nearly always caused heathenish displays. Were it his choice, they would not have come along, but the Shipmaster had commanded it, and so it would be.
As he trudged through the thick forests, he heard one of the Unggoy screech, "Look, in the sky!"
Presuming it would be another of this planet's avian fauna, or perhaps an unusually fast-moving cloud -- like the last five times one of the Unggoy alerted him -- he looked over lazily. Seeing the ball of flame that filled the sky, however, attracted his attention.
"By the Gods, something to investigate." He smiled a bit as the object grew closer. Halfway through its descent, a second, much smaller ball of fire ejected from the side. He recognized it instantly as a Human Drop Pod. He had seen them before, notably when he took part in a mission on the planet the Humans had named Circinius Four. It crashed to the ground a few ships' lengths from where they were. With a little difficulty, he managed to round the panicked Unggoy back into formation. "Come," he declared to the the unit, "we must go forth." The unit trudged on in that direction as the rest of the wreckage -- as it was now apparent it was -- rocked the ground some great distance behind them.
After a few minutes of marching, the group came to a clearing. Rol motioned to the others to cease advancing and go quiet. Together with his brothers and the Brutes, he glanced out and saw a rising cloud of steam in the distance. In the middle of the field in front of them were six quadrupedal creatures. He quickly determined they were sapient by virtue of their speech, the language of which he recognized as English -- a Human language. Those that fraternized with Humans were no better than humans themselves -- but at the same time this was a species that the Covenant had never encountered. How were they to know that Humans were an affront to the Gods? It was the duty of the Covenant to spread the word of the Prophets, that all life may know the glory of the Great Journey. He made up his mind. They would offer these creatures the opportunity to join them.
As he was readying himself to reveal the unit, he heard one of the Kig-Yar behind him.
"English, they speak! Human-lovers! Oh, the joy, it has been so long since I killed!" He ignited his shield and bolted past Rol into the clearing, charging a full blast into his plasma pistol.
"Fool!" Rol bounded out of cover, overtaking the rushing Kig-Yar in only a few steps, and swiftly igniting his energy sword. He plunged it smoothly through the Kig-Yar's back. He let the dead beast drop limply to the ground, and turned his attention to the obviously horrified quadrupeds. He cleared his throat, since his English was very rusty, and began to speak.
"I am Rol 'Chusufai. I have saved your lives. In return, I only ask that you tell me; what are you?"
One of them, a purple, winged one with a protrusion on its head, spoke in a terrified tone. "Did you kill it?"
"Yes. You need fear the Kig-Yar no more."
"Why did you kill it?! How could you?!"
Rol was baffled. He took a moment before replying. "I killed him because he intended to kill you, against my orders."
A different one, pale-yellow with a pink mane, spoke up with a voice that sounded as though she -- he presumed it was a she -- may be crying. "Why would he want to kill us? Couldn't you have just stopped him?"
"Kig-Yar are foolish and bloodthirsty, and I did stop him. My boot to his throat; he was treacherous."
"How... how awful!"
He motioned behind him for the rest of the troop -- minus the Kig-Yar, who would be severely punished -- to reveal themselves. "These," he motioned to them, "are my allies. They come to ensure that none we meet may threaten our ways. Thus I ask: what connection have you to the Humans? You speak their language. Have you allied with them?"
"Humans don't exist." The purple one said plainly. "They are a myth."
"Were it only so," Rol laughed, "but no, they are quite corporeal. I have killed hundreds on my blade."
"You've killed HUNDREDS?" A flying blue one with prismatic hair exclaimed.
These creatures are strange. Such color variation... is it a ranking system? "Indeed. Which of you is of the highest rank?"
"Rank?" The blue one said. "We aren't ranked."
"Technically, Rainbow," the purple one corrected, "I hold an official rank now in Equestria's royalty." She stepped forward nervously but with determination. "I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria."
Royalty. Normally, a Sangheili would not bow to anyone, but in the interest of diplomacy, he motioned to his troops, and fell to one knee with the rest of the unit. "Highness." He stood up again, and the troops followed suit. From behind, he heard a commotion. A Sangheili voice and a Brute voice, both speaking in their native tongues.
"I bow to nobody!" The Brute exclaimed. "We should kill them now, they speak the language of Humans! Their flesh will feed the pack!"
"You disobey orders from your superior," the Sangheili, Yur 'Veledeamee, reprimanded, "this is treason!"
"What are you going to do about it, split-jaw?" The second Brute stood next to his companion.
"That is enough!" Rol bellowed. "We are attempting to bring more into the light of the Covenant, and your bickering is not assisting! You dishonor not only my command, but the Gods themselves. Now silence yourselves, Brutes, or I shall do so for you." He waved the hilt of his energy sword in their direction. With a few grumbles, they backed down. His two brothers held their plasma rifles close and watched the Brutes from the corners of their eyes. Rol returned to face the Princess. "Apologies, Princess Sparkle."
Twilight, taken aback by the harshness of their languages, stuttered for a moment. "It's... quite all right. With... respect, what -- who -- are you?"
"I am Rol 'Chusufai, accompanied by Yur 'Veledeamee and Des 'Nulukanee. We are Sangheili. Under our command are the Kig-Yar," he motioned to each species as he identified them, "Unggoy, and Jiralhanae."
"What are their names?"
"Unimportant. They are of inconsequential rank to warrant discourse with Royalty. They will not speak to you. To the matter at hand. We are of an alliance known as the Covenant, in service to the Prophets of the Gods, our Forerunners, whose long-left gifts lifted us from the shackles of ignorance into an era of blinding greatness, and which will propel us to the Great Journey, whereupon all the faithful shall know peace and prosperity."
"Oh... I see."
"Indeed. If you forsake all connections with the Human species, we can propose your integration into the Covenant, that you too might join the Great Journey."
"Uhhhh..." the purple one drew out, "I think that we should discuss this with Princess Cele --"
A metal-on-ground sound caught Rol's ears. He looked to the ground and saw a Human grenade. "Get down!"
His two brothers bolted out of range of the blast, and he bolted forward to shield the Princess. His shields flared, and he hissed with pain from the concussive force. "Humans!" He growled with a smile as he ignited his sword. The Unggoy began to drop one after the other, and the Brutes fired their simplistic weapons randomly and animalistically. His brothers sent bolts of blue plasma flying downrange. "Finally... a fight!"
Chief exited the water slowly and deliberately. He began the process of draining his rifle.
"So what's the plan, Cortana?"
"We need to find a way off this planet. Since the only ships capable of breaking atmo are Covenant, and most likely out of commission, I think we're going to have to explore alternate routes."
"Like?"
"I'll let you know when I think of one."
Chief stopped to check over his gear. Everything seemed okay after the submarine adventure he and Cortana had enjoyed while getting to the shore. Just as long as there was no water stuck in the barrel of his rifle. He pulled the magazine and turned it upside down to empty it. Pulling the charging handle, he ejected an unspent round, which he caught and deftly put back into its magazine before reseating it and chambering it again. He drained the other two magazines and had his armor run a quick diagnostic. His shield generator was at 83% power, more than enough to last him for weeks without a recharge. His motion tracker seemed flawless, his radio functioned brilliantly, and every element of his HUD was up to date.
"Let's be honest, Chief. It's not the weirdest thing we've ever seen."
He silently agreed as he continued to walk on. Where there are horses, he figured, there are humans. Where there are humans, there's transport. He walked off in the direction that he saw the horses run. After a few minutes, he heard voices. Shouldering his rifle, he crouched behind a bush.
"... forsake all connections with the Human species, we can propose your integration into the Covenant, that you too might join the Great Journey."
Elites. He peeked over the bush and sighted an entire unit of Covenant, talking with horses. Electing to reconcile that insanity later, he prepped his frag grenade and threw it so that it landed right next to the big Elite, who grabbed his comrades and dove out of the way. The grenade exploded, taking out a Jackal and disorienting the majority of the Grunts. He took that opportunity to start peppering rounds in their direction, dropping them one after another. The horses ran away, predictably, and the Elites and Brutes began to return fire. The Grunts and Jackals had been annihilated. He rose and sprinted to a more substantial piece of cover just as a plasma grenade incinerated the bush he had been using to conceal himself. The big Elite barked orders while the Brutes, predictably, ignored them. Chief reared back like he was throwing a baseball pitch and hurled his last grenade, a plasma, toward one of the two Brutes, who were standing shoulder-to-shoulder. It stuck square on the beast's helmet, sending it into a rage. A second later, it detonated, killing both of the apes. With another burst from his rifle, Chief dropped one of the Elites. He turned his aim to face the second one, but a pull of the trigger turned up nothing. He was out of ammo.
The two Elites grinned maliciously as Chief threw his rifle to the ground roughly. The big one pointed his plasma rifle at Chief and pulled the trigger, only to find himself in a similar position. He threw it away a great distance into the forest and pulled a plasma sword from his hip. Chief charged toward him at full speed, and the Elite matched his action. As the Elite reared his arm back for a swing, Chief used all the strength he could to jump. He pushed himself higher by grabbing the Elite's helmet and extending his arms. Somehow, he managed to pull the helmet with him, off of the Elite's head. Another few bounds and he was within striking distance of the second Elite. Pulling his arm back, he swung the big one's helmet into the side of the second Elite, causing its shields to cascade down. The Elite, caught off balance, fell roughly to the ground and scrambled backwards as Chief slowly advanced toward him. With a few extra-long steps, Chief stood on the Elite's chest and pulled one leg up. Dropping his boot as hard as he could onto the Elite's face, he felt its skull give way as the beast stopped writhing beneath him. He turned back around to face the big Elite, who growled menacingly as he walked deliberately in Chief's direction. The two warriors picked up the pace as they charged each other. The Elite readied a blow with his sword, and Chief with his fist. They were feet apart when suddenly they both became immobile. Chief's vision was obscured by a purple filter, but he could see that the Elite was similarly enveloped.
"Stop it right now!" A female voice screamed.
"Cortana?" Chief asked.
"No," she replied, "that wasn't me."
"Why in Equestria are you two trying to KILL each other?!" The first called again with shock and horror plain in her voice.
"This human is an affront to the Gods!" The Elite growled.
"Cortana, can you take the power from my shields and route them into the suit's musculature?"
"If you're sure, Chief."
"Do it."
"Okay!"
His shields dropped, and his suit rang in alarm. Using all the strength he could, he struggled against the purple force that held him, and with a grunt of exertion, broke free. Another couple of wide strides brought him face-to-face with the Elite, and he used all the force he could to punch into the side of its head. Its shields collapsed, and the purple force released it. The Elite fell to the ground limply, groaning. Chief reared his boot up for a similar execution to the last one, but suddenly found himself pushed back.
"Don't kill him! He can't defend himself! He's not going to kill you now."
Chief turned to see who had been talking, and stared in confusion when he saw that it was, in fact, the purple horse. She moved and knelt next to the unconscious Elite. Five others were staring at him with terror.
"Yes! I am talking! Moreover, I am talking to YOU!" She glared at the now-freed Spartan, whose shields popped back online. Behind her, the yellow, pink-maned horse fell to its side with a sigh.
"We lost Fluttershy." The white one with a purple mane said simply.
"Why in the name of Celestia did you kill all those creatures?" The purple one said again.
"They were Covenant," he explained, "and we don't get along." He glared with hate at the big Elite, who rolled on the ground, groaning, as consciousness returned.
"Chjet norsed beka ju'nek!" The Elite growled as his eyes met Chief's visor. Chief's time on the battlefield cued him in to more than one Sangheili curse word, and that was just about all of them. For his part, Chief just stared. The Elite stood to his full height and reached for his energy sword again, but it was pulled from his grasp by the purple energy field. The Elite roared with rage as he watched the hilt of his prized possession fly from his grasp.
"Exactly why," the purple one lectured, "can't you settle this like civilized ponies?"
"The Human is an affront to the Gods! His existence mars the face of creation, and must be extinguished!"
"At your service," Chief sneered. The Elite snarled and raised a fist. Chief moved to meet the creature, but was intercepted by a flying blue horse. What was in that cryo-serum?
"Easy, you two. I wouldn't want to have to kick any butts!"
"Pur'dak!" The Elite barked.
For once, Chief agreed; still, he held his tongue, and his fists. The Covenant and Humanity had reached truce once before. Maybe trying again wasn't such a bad idea.
"Now," the purple one sighed, "girls, I need you to tell Spike to send a letter to the Princesses. I think we'll need their help." She smiled as her friends went their separate ways to accomplish their goals. "So, you two. Why don't we go and talk over lunch?"
They had been led, with no small amount of tension between the two soldiers -- to say nothing of the opinions of the town's inhabitants -- to a building that reminded Chief of an early 20th century French cafe. Chief and the Elite were directed by a terrified waitress toward a table, where the purple horse took a seat.
"Please," she motioned, "sit."
Chief heard Cortana laugh as he looked at the tiny chair that had been presented to him. He and the Elite shared a questioning glance. Chief shrugged and pulled the wrought-iron seat over to him with a loud scraping sound, and sat. It creaked and groaned for a moment before collapsing under him. The ground shook as his full weight struck home. Cortana was laughing hysterically.
"If the abomination cannot remain seated in these feeble chairs, then neither can I. I will stand."
Working to his feet, Chief considered taking one of the splintered pieces of wrought iron and plunging it down the Elite's throat, but thought better of it. He smacked the side of his helmet to try and tell Cortana to knock it off. She didn't comply.
"Okay, then," the purple one said as the two stood at each other, still glaring daggers, "how about introductions? Rol, why don't you start?"
The Elite stood up straight and hesitated for a moment. "I am Rol 'Chusufai, Second Master of the Fear to Prosperity. My blade is the beacon by which our crew is led, and upon which the Shipmaster relies."
"Fantastic," she smiled a hesitant smile before turning to Chief, "and you are...?"
"Not going to tell you." He shook his head.
"We have to call you something."
He paused, considering his options. "Sierra one-one-seven."
"Ohhhkay. Well, then, Sierra one-one-seven, meet Rol 'Chufu ... 'Chuku... 'Chu-suf-ai. Rol 'Chusufai. I am Twilight Sparkle. Pleased to meet you both."
As the introductions concluded, the waitress returned with three plates, all set down in front of each guest. The purple one began to eat eagerly, and a moment later looked at her guests with confusion.
"Why aren't you eating?"
"I'm not taking off this helmet." Chief said plainly.
The Elite looked at the sandwich on his plate suspiciously. "What is this?"
"It's a sandwich, Rol. You should try it."
"Do not call me Rol. You must call me Second Master; it is my title."
"Okay, Second Master, try the sandwich." Twilight was getting more impatient by the minute.
The Elite picked up the sandwich with one hand and turned it over and over. His split jaws opened wide and took about half the sandwich in one bite. Swiftly, his head turned and he ejected the contents of his mouth. The rest of the sandwich was promptly hurled as far as he could manage it, all while being cursed very loudly in the Sangheili tongue. He rounded it off by turning back to Twilight with crossed arms. "Disgusting," he said simply.
"Well," Cortana mused in Chief's helmet, "aren't we the charmer?"
"Look, this is going nowhere," Chief shook his head and pointed at the Elite, "Why don't you go back to your ship while I try to find a way off this planet?" He turned and walked away, ignoring the rants of the Elite behind him and the desperate cries of Twilight.
"You know, Chief, I wasn't going to mention it, but that Elite's holier-than-thou attitude sealed the deal; an SDV-Class heavy corvette like the Fear to Prosperity could probably muster enough juice to get us home, and I could probably muster enough juice to get her flying."
"I'm up for it." As the walked, he noticed the streets were deserted; he presumed the locals were just too terrified to be around him. That suited him just fine; less nonsense to get in the way.
"Well, let's get moving, Chief. We've got work to do."
The UNSC Two for Flinching was a fast-attack Corvette of distinguished service. It was, as such, frowned upon to steal it from the Shipyards over New Canaveral and abscond into the depths of interstellar space. This fact didn't really bother Linda-058. When, on the way home after her rescue by the Port Stanley, she had picked up a faint and admittedly broken transmission she was SURE said something about "117" and "finishing this fight", and in the light of the attack on Earth, her mind was made up. Her return to Earth, too late though it was to help in the battle, led to her being heralded as a shining achievement of the Human species, just like Doctor Halsey knew her Spartans would be. She was even hand-picked by Doctor Halsey to field one of the prototype MJOLNIR Mark 7 variants. John, though, haunted her. The last time she saw him, he was cradling her in his arms while a glob of plasma seared the flesh at the back of her skull. She knew he thought she was dead. She knew, now that the Ark had been destroyed, everyone on Earth thought he was dead. That wasn't something she could allow. Somehow, she knew he was alive. Somehow, she would find him.
After several years of careful planning, she had managed to convince a small crew of naval personnel and combat personnel to assist and accompany her on an off-the-books, AWOL mission to retrieve the lost Spartan. At this point, she and her crew were considered criminals, and she was sure that they would be followed to the best of the UNSC's ability. At the same time, the Two for Flinching wasn't a large ship by any means at only 520 feet long. While they were certainly being tracked and followed, the Admiralty of the UNSC wouldn't dedicate considerable firepower to their capture. They would be seen as a rogue element to be captured at the earliest opportunity. The most likely asset on their tail would be a Charon Frigate, and at the most a single Halcyon class. With their frequent blind course corrections, their pursuers' advance would be slow. For the past two years, they had been zig-zagging in the direction of Chief's last known coordinates. The Ark, Installation 00, was 262,144 light years from galactic center according to the data left over from the battle. That was more than one and a half galactic diameters. Earth was a quarter of a galactic diameter from center, which meant she had about 237,000 light years of space where John could be. Her little fighter, though, couldn't hope to take her outside of their galaxy, so all she could hope to search was the 25,000 light years from Earth to the Rim. It was a crapshoot, and not one where the odds were in her favor. Her little crew knew that, though, but they were so dedicated to the idea of Humanity's greatest hero that they felt anything short of a lifetime dedication to his recovery would be an insult. Her crew were all ideologues, to be sure, but they meant well, and she couldn't help but respect that dedication.
Her motivation, though, was decidedly more personal.
She had nearly given up hope that their mission could come to fruition, until, after these two years, their little ship's scanners picked up a faint transmission. They were nearly seven light years from Earth, on the positive x-axis swing of their staggered advance, when the signal scanner that ran 24/7 pulled just a few words out of the black.
"Mayday, ma---y, m-----. This is ---C FFG-201 For---d------D-wn, reque----------diate evac. Surv------aboard. Prio------tion-------Vi--or Zero Five------------dash Sierra Zero One One Seven."
The transmission quickly faded back into static. Linda, though had heard enough.
"Commander," she called out to their communications officer, Lt. Commander Xiu Lee, "did you get a bearing on that signal's origin?"
Even though Linda had only been a Petty Officer, Second Class, these men and women respected her. Since they were all AWOL, they had established their own command structure. Since Linda was the most well-trained and had the most experience, there were no objections to her taking command. She was the captain of this ship, with no reservations from her crew; she rewarded their loyalty with her own.
"Yes ma'am," Xiu replied, "it's not terribly precise, but it will get us in the right direction. Helm, set to bearing 82.55 yaw, relative -27.87 pitch to present. Captain, it's about two hundred light years out. It's about a two month flight. Six if we want to keep using staggered directional travel."
"As the crow flies, Helm," Linda called, "thank you, Commander; your work is commendable and appreciated."
The several officers at the helm station offered verbal affirmations before starting the ship's attitude change. They dropped out of slip space, and immediately small amounts of G-force affected them, but the ship's artificial gravity largely negated this. Once their new bearing had been established, the helm called out, "the slip drive needs time to reset, she's been running hot. Engineering estimates 2 hours before full effectiveness."
Linda resented her position as Captain for only one reason; she hated having to talk all the time. Spartans were made to work, not talk. Still, for John, it was worth it. "I expect that we'll be doing everything in our power to come in early from that estimate, but understood." We've waited two years. Two hours is nothing to be concerned about.
Chief crouched under the cover of the thicket at the perimeter of the Covenant camp. They had set up their base of operations around the crashed Corvette, erecting a basic wall with crates, deployable covers, and plasma batteries. For structures they couldn't erect with junk from the crash, they used local materials such as wood. The structures were primitive, yet still maintained that sleek and elegant look for which Covenant architecture was renowned. They'd been at this for more than four years -- they'd organized. The Brutes had been delegated to lookout duty, the Grunts were delegated to the usual Grunt tasks of functioning as light lift gear, the Jackals sat around pretending to work but mostly just giving their jobs to Grunts under penalty of death or torture, and the Elites acted as foremen, mostly directing labor but also contributing from time to time. The current focus of their attention was a large spire created from some of their ship's wreckage. Hardlight and plasma made the several-story tall structure glow with a radiant blue hue. It was obviously cut-and-paste construction, but it was also apparent that it was well constructed, considering the state of things.
"What is that?" Chief asked Cortana.
"I'm no expert in Covenant potpourri construction, but I'd say it looks like some kind of communications relay. They must be trying to call for help."
Chief looked over at the Fear to Prosperity, and it was obvious why that was their goal. The ship was completely destroyed. The parts of it that weren't unrecognizable showed serious plasma damage. It was actually surprising that anyone at all had survived the crash. Still more disturbing, though, was the obvious damage to parts of their wall. Deep gashes that came in rows of four seemed to pepper the parts of it that weren't hardlight, and various Covenant bloodstains usually followed.
"What do you suppose did that?" Cortana asked with a bit of a quiver in her voice.
"Something big."
As if on cue, at that moment, Chief heard the familiar sounds of Covenant fighting. The guards that were facing him ran from their posts, drawing weapons, and headed toward the opposite side of the encampment. From moment to moment, Chief heard faint roaring that was distinctly non-Covenant.
"Looks like your luck is holding out, Chief! Let's get in there, maybe we can find something that will give us an idea of what the state of things is."
He didn't stop to ask. Cortana had never really steered him wrong before. Being very careful as he went, he began to infiltrate the camp. At the center of it, nearest to the wreck of the ship, was a building that obviously housed an Elite of some importance. Figuring that was as good a place as any to enter, Chief poked his head into the structure. Empty. The Elite that lived here must have gone off to join in the fray. Chief began to rummage through the junk. In his search he managed to find a poorly made wooden chest full of energy sword hilts. He picked up two and tested them. They ignited, with full batteries. He smiled to himself and hooked them onto either side of his hips. All he was able to find other than that was a plasma pistol with a little over half charge in it. Finally, as he was about to give up, a shimmering point of blue and purple caught his eye. It was behind what he presumed was a bed. He picked it up, and it sparked to life.
"It's a data pad, Chief," Cortana said with a bit of surprise, "I can access this. Just give me a minute."
From outside, the commotion had died down. Chief heard Covenant voices drawing nearer. "No time," he said, "it's coming with us."
"If the Elite that lives here finds it gone --"
"We'll deal with it." Chief bolted through the doorway and back out into the cover of the forest, seeing a myriad of red dots just on the periphery of his sensors. Just in time.
Princess Celestia's brow furrowed as she read the note from her student and her friends. It wasn't uncommon for Twilight to send her letters detailing the new catastrophe to plague Ponyville -- albeit, nine times out of ten it was just that she had forgotten there was rain scheduled for that day or something of that ilk, but on occasion it warranted some attention. For the most part, she could just let Twilight's friends handle the situation -- but this time it actually required her immediate supervision. Alien contact -- hostile alien contact at that -- could not go unremarked. As she rose, rolling the note up, she quietly hoped to herself that this was just one of Rainbow Dash's pranks gone awry, or the age-old standby, Discord.
"Oh, no such luck, I'm afraid."
That voice. She sighed. "Hello, Discord."
"Oh, yes, hello. As I was saying, no such luck. I had no paw, hoof, claw or talon to play in this, though I certainly wonder how I didn't manage to think of it. Aliens! I shudder to think..." He smiled coyly.
"Of course. You'll understand my suspicions, I trust."
"Suspicions? You're suspicious of moi?!" With a snap, he was clothed in horizontally striped black and white clothes. "I'm innocent! INNOCENT!" He was dragged out the door by invisible guards. As the door slammed behind him, she felt his claw on her shoulder. He clicked his tongue like one would click at a filly who wasn't behaving herself. "Such a shame when the good ones go bad. You know, it's always the quiet ones..." His head pulled over toward Celestia's other ear, "we should keep an eye on Fluttershy. I think Angel is a bad influence."
"I really do not have time for this, Discord."
"Oh, but you do! It would take you at least an hour to get to Ponyville by carriage, and we both know that in your condition, you shouldn't be teleporting anywhere on your own power. You play a little game with me, and I'll have you there half an hour before you would have been otherwise," he smiled widely, "then everybody wins!"
"My condition, Discord, is not your concern." She felt the fury of the sun bubbling through the soft glow of her corona. I must not let him irk me. I must not let him win.
"I've already won, Celestia, and you know it." He chuckled.
Horseapples. I forgot he can do that.
"Which gave me a profound advantage, I assure you." He floated, upside-down, between the chandeliers of the throne room, doing a figure eight. "Don't worry, getting a rise out of you was all I really wanted."
Discord held out a claw and snapped his fingers. Everything spun for a second, and Celestia worried that she might throw up. Her composure held, if only barely, and she blinked in the light of her Sun. Looking around, she found herself just on the outskirts of Ponyville.
"I'd have gotten you closer," the draconequus' voice was ethereal, his body absent, "but my wonderful new friend Twilight Sparkle put up a barrier spell that won't let me teleport inside Ponyville. It's bothersome to say the least. I don't suppose you could lower --"
"No, Discord. I will walk."
"Oh." He groaned, sticking his bottom lip out before lazily floating after her. "You're a party-pooper. Did anyone ever tell you that?"
It was some time before the unlikely duo arrived at the Ponyville Library. Twilight, upon answering the door, was ecstatic.
"Princess Celestia! I'm so glad you could make it, please come in!" She bowed several more times than was necessary, ushering her mentor into the main room where the rest of the Elements were. "We're all here to try and figure out what to do with the aliens."
"Yes, about that," Celestia started, "I think there's something you need to see."
"Oh! There's something you need to see too, Princess. Rol, come out here, would you?"
There was a loud grunt, followed by several loud pounding footsteps. Suddenly, one of the doors near the back of the room nearly flew from its hinges. The eight and a half foot tall behemoth stood just a hop skip and a trot away from Celestia, towering an entire head above her.
"Oh, my," the Princess said in a hushed voice, her face showing mild concern, "hello, there."
The Elite turned his head toward her, his saurian eyes darting to and fro as he regarded her. His only response was a curt but respectful nod of the head before turning around back into the room from which he had just emerged.
Twilight beamed, "He loves reading, Princess. I haven't been able to get him out of the Equestrian History archive all day!"
Assimilation of culture. Step one to an invasion; know your enemy. Of course, he could also be curious. Who am I to judge? "Well, Twilight, given the nature of the day's events, I think there's something about Ponyville that you should know. There is a reason why you were sent here instead of a different town. You should follow me."
"Who's going to watch after Rol while I'm gone?"
"Oh," the Princess smiled and looked at Fluttershy, who softly pleaded for mercy. The Princess ignored the demure pegasus' pleas, saying "Fluttershy has a knack with all things that aren't ponies. She should be fine!" The entire group, minus the Elite and the yellow pegasus, filed out in the Princess' wake. Where they were going, nobody seemed to know. "So, Twilight, your letter mentioned two aliens... I believe I have met one, but what about the other?"
"Well, he kind of..."
"He smashed a chair and stormed off." Rainbow Dash's typically brief description left much to be desired, Celestia was sure, but was concise enough to give a basic picture.
"We'll just have to deal with that in a bit, I suppose." They eventually made their way to Ponyville's town hall, but instead of going to Mayor Mare's office like usual, they headed to the basement. It smelled strongly of mildew, and decades of old documents crowded the walls. Celestia hummed a bit, looking intensely at one of the back walls.
For just a moment, the other ponies in the room thought that she had lost her mind, but just before Rainbow Dash was about to speak up, the Princess stepped forward with a jubilant little "ah!" and pulled one of the scrolls from a rack near the corner. She swiftly cast it aside and smiled, staring at the wall. Again, just when everyone was almost sure the Princess had lost her mind, the group was silenced. A segment of the wall began to glow bright blue. It was unlike any kind of magic that Twilight had ever seen. The segment that was glowing sunk backward before sliding off to the right, revealing in its place a door of metal and glass featuring angular shapes that weren't present in any Equestrian architecture that Twilight had ever heard of. There was a small cross in the middle of the door that glowed red.
"This door," Celestia started, "was discovered when I began scouting for the new capital of Equestria after Luna's little... incident... and the crew had started to lay foundation. No magic or implement could even damage it, and it has never been opened. All that we know is that its origin is extra-equestrian. I think that one or both of our new acquaintances might be able to shed some light on this. Girls," she turned, suddenly seeming very somber, "this might be the most important discovery in pony history."
Twilight nearly collapsed as her legs quivered. Such knowledge was so close, yet so far from her grasp. With his thirst for knowledge, she figured that Rol was by far the best choice. He would want to be a part of this, she was certain.
"This is ridiculous!" Discord's voice filled the cavern, and everypony in the room groaned. The draconequus materialised next to the Princess with his talon and paw at his hips. "If you had some secret door you couldn't open, why didn't you just call me? My magic is the most powerful to ever exist, save of course for the Elements of Harmony. I can have this open in a jiffy!" He smiled and cracked his knuckles. He stared daggers at the door and snapped fingers on all three of his arms at once. He didn't even know where that third arm came from, but it couldn't hurt.
The small cross in the middle of the door flickered from red to blue rapidly for a few seconds before settling on green. With a hiss, it slid open. In front of them was a long hallway, another identical door at the end with a green cross.
"See, that wasn't so ha--" Discord was cut off when a blue beam of light struck him in the face, knocking him back suddenly.
"Halt!" A tinny, metallic voice rang out. "Explain yourself! You're intruding on a very important experiment!" Through the door, a little metal ball came floating. It zapped Discord again as he stood up. Nopony stopped it.
After staggering up again, Discord turned to the little ball and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.
"I have stunted your telepathic abilities. Explain your intrusion in my installation this instant!"
"Exactly who are you?!" Discord growled.
"Zero-Zero-One Point Six-Four Conciliatory Apothem. I am the monitor of this installation, and you are intruding on very important research. This experiment is nearing completion, and must not be tampered with!"
Celestia giggled at the strange little object. "Well, this was worth the wait!"
Linda rolled in her bunk restlessly. This wasn't the first nightmare she had experienced since the incident on Reach that had left her nearly dead. She still saw the gaping maw of a Zealot leaning in for the kill before John's hand entered her view, grabbing one of the beast's four jaws and snapping it backward. The appendage hung limply as blood poured from the creature's mouth and it screamed the blood-curdling call of an injured Sangheili. Only a fraction of a second later, an energy sword severed the beast's head, and it came to rest, still twitching, just a few inches from Linda's helmet. She tried to scream, but her lips wouldn't move.
There were two loud bangs on her door, and she shot up in her bunk, drenched with sweat, and grabbed her pistol in a fluid motion. Two steps had her at the door, and she nearly broke its servos as she flung it open much faster than it was designed to do. She aimed the pistol, put her finger on the trigger, and -- stopped. The barrel of her weapon was two inches from Lt. Commander Lee's nose.
"Commander?" She shook her head, tossing the pistol down onto the floor of her cabin, and walked over to her bunk again. She grabbed her helmet, which was sitting on the ground next to the head of the bunk, and twisted it on. "Sorry about that. Reflexes. They're ... a bit heightened." She managed a chuckle. "What is it, Xiu?"
"That's just it, Captain," he said after swallowing the frog in his throat, "I don't know. None of us do. We had predicted a time correction of two years to our destination, but we just dropped out of slip space... we're in orbit right now."
"That isn't possible, Commander. We must be at the wrong coordinates."
"Helm and navigation have both recalculated several times. Either the galaxy reorganized itself, or we're here."
She stood, reaching her full in-armor height of seven feet. "Well, then, let's see what we're up against." She fell in line next to the commander, and they began the walk toward the bridge.
"Permission to speak, ma'am?" He asked tentatively after a few tense minutes.
"Just talk, Xiu." She sighed. She really hated command.
"You were covered in sweat, ma'am. That wasn't reflexes. I'm sorry if I scared you, but I want to make sure you're alri--"
"Commander," she interrupted curtly but quietly, "as I stated before, you startled me and my reflexes took over. Anything you think you saw was just the product of your imagination. I suggest you drop it."
"Of course, understood. That being said, I like to consider myself your friend as well as your Lt. Commander; I'm no Spartan, but I'll do whatever I can."
"Appreciated, Commander." She nodded to him as they walked through the door onto the bridge. She stared through the glass at a planet not unlike Earth. Blue-green atmosphere, extensive oceans, green continents, and swirling weather systems. Idyllic. "Sensor report?"
"Ideal," The Two for Flinching's resident squint, Doctor Ludmila Akulov, read aloud from the console. Her accent was standard midwest. She'd grown up on Harvest, and like many of its residents, actually had mostly American heritage. Her family had, according to her, immigrated from Russia to the United States during the First Cold War in the 20th Century. Her surname, and the tradition of Russian given names, had been passed down the line. "in fact, it's ideal in every way. The atmosphere is almost identical to 20th century Earth, the oceans have a perfect saline hypertonicity for the sustenance of Earth oceanic creatures, and most strangely, every point on its surface, with a margin of error less than twenty kilometers, is equidistant from its center. This planet is, astronomically, as close to a perfect sphere as possible. It's uncanny."
"What does that mean, Doctor?"
"It means that either this planet is the most amazing astronomical oddity ever discovered, or..." she trailed off.
"Say again, Doctor?"
"Ma'am. I believe that this planet is artificial in nature."
001.64 Conciliatory Apothem had faithfully tended to his installation for decades. No, centuries. Or is it millennia? Oh well, it doesn't matter. The point is this is my installation. He considered the situation. Intrusion had been prevented for the entirety of the experiment's duration, and it was his job to enforce that quarantine. Interference could not be allowed.
"Explain yourselves this instant! You will not be allowed to interfere with the experiment." He demanded again after zapping Discord one more time.
"Experiment?" Twilight brightened up quickly. "What experiment? What are you studying?"
The Monitor turned and regarded Twilight for a moment. "I'm afraid that is classified."
"Are you sure? I could help; I'm pretty good with science." Twilight puffed out her chest, feeling a smidgen of pride.
"Your enthusiasm is well received, but must be declined. Protocol must not be breached. Reverse trajectory and do not return to this place."
"Oracle!" A deep voice called from behind the group. They all turned to see Rol 'Chusufai standing in the doorway to the basement. In his hand was the hilt of an energy sword, which he quickly powered down, dropping to one knee. "I humble myself in Your presence."
"Ah!" The Monitor said with pleasant surprise. "You are one of the creatures that my creators preserved. I am sure they would be pleased to know you are flourishing."
"The Gods are proud of our humble Covenant? This fills me with great pride." He rose to his feet and trudged over to the Monitor. "This monument will be protected with my life. To You, Oracle -- guardian of this place -- I pledge allegiance." He reignited his sword. "My blade is an extension of Your will."
The Monitor rolled a bit to the left as if befuddled. "Ah. Yes. Quite. If there are no further interruptions, I will return to my duties. I must insist that the experiment not be disturbed further!"
As the Monitor descended back into the depths of the installation, Rol stood tall and called out through the closing door, "Thy will be done, Oracle! It shall be so!" The door hissed shut, the symbol in the middle returned to red, and Rol stood at attention in front of it, holding his blade nearly flat to his chest.
"Rol?" Twilight asked hesitantly and stepped forward.
"REMAIN STILL!" He snarled with a step forward. "The Oracle of the Gods will not be defied!"
"UGH!" Rainbow Dash groaned and fell backwards onto the floor, waving her hooves wildly in frustration, "Why is everyone around here so crazy?!"
"Chief, wait," Cortana stopped the Spartan mid-stride.
He looked around the patch of jungle through which they were walking, but saw nothing. "Why are we stopping?"
"I just picked up an energy surge."
"Covenant?"
"No. Forerunner."
Shit. Where there are Forerunner structures and Covies, there's big trouble. "Where do we go?"
"Due West, five klicks."
Chief nodded and began to run.
Linda powered up her shields as she led the small team to the Pelican waiting in their hangar. A team of five Marines and one ex-ONI scientist made for a poor expedition crew, but with the addition of a Spartan, she thought that their chances were decent enough. She stepped effortlessly into the Pelican before turning around and offering her hand to help the others up, one at a time. She was the only one trained to fly one of these, so she squeezed herself through the doorway at the end of the crew compartment and sat down in the pilot's seat.
"All right, buckle up, everyone." She flipped the switch that sealed the crew compartment tightly. "Two for Flinching, this is Brightblade, we're all squared away here; are you ready to pull chocks?"
"Confirmed; clear hangar." Lights began to flash in the hangar and alarms sounded, signaling to all hands that the hangar was about to be depressurized. When the crew had evacuated the hangar, the mammoth metal doors in front of the Pelican hissed open. "Brightblade, you are green for launch. Happy trails."
Linda lifted the Pelican a few feet above the floor of the hangar, doing the final flight checks. "We'll be seeing you around, Two for Flinching." She hit the comms to speak to the crew behind her. "Hold on to your bits boys, here we go." She slammed the throttle forward and they lurched out through the hangar bay doors, flying toward the planet ahead of them.
The Pelican shook as they started into atmo, and Linda slowed their descent so that they wouldn't burn up. "Two for Flinching, this is Brightblade, has telemetry given us our BFR for this landing?"
"10-4 Brightblade, mark a large mountain at 46° 85' 29" N, 121° 76' 04" W; head SSE ten klicks. Energy surges were detected at 0947, investigation is prudent."
Energy surges on a Forerunner installation. This doesn't bode well. "Any signs of ... him?"
"Nothing yet, ma'am. We'll keep scanning."
She sighed quietly to herself as they drew closer and closer to their destination. She saw the mountain at the coordinates expected, but there was something unusual... there was a city clinging to the side of it, with architecture unlike anything she'd ever seen before. What's more, she could make out activity. This was a bustling city, and definitely not Covenant or Forerunner. Might be a good idea to figure out what we're up against. "Saddle up boys, we're making contact. Keep it cold, return fire only if fired upon."
Princess Luna tried her best not to beat her head against the back of her throne, but the droll worryings of the ponies that incessantly bothered her through the day were about all she could handle. She loved her subjects, really she did, but she could only listen to farmers complain about there being one inch more rain that year than had been scheduled -- and insisting on a tax break for their sorrows -- for so long before her patience would be worn down to nothing. She hoped, prayed even that something would happen to stop the boredom.
"... which is why we, the owners of the Brandy Mug Farm, feel that the esteemed Canterlot weather patrol should personally compensate for the loss in productivity resulting from their oversight."
Luna sighed. "Thy farm's area hath been scheduled for rainfall forty days out of the year, and for to recieve a total of thirty five inches of rain. Thus, thou should'st expect near an inch of rain per day of rain. In order to account for poor drainage areas, the weather patrol begineth and endeth rainfall half of an hour early and late. The extra inch thou complain'st about is the result of the weather patrol performing their duties exactly as requested. You would have us order compensation for a loss that does not exist. Begone, and bother us not with this trifle again!" The rather begrudged farm pony was led out of the hall, and Luna began to hear a faint buzz in her ears. She let out an exasperated sigh before falling in a heap out of her throne; a decidedly not-princess-like behavior. She groaned into the carpet. "This is why we doth feel these days whereupon our sister tends to outside business are so despise'd."
She couldn't really blame Celestia, though. When something comes up, it comes up, but in her sister's condition it could hardly be considered a prudent option to travel abroad. She is such a misery to be around when Winter arrives. Luna had always presumed that it was just that her sister loved being the center of attention, and the Winter days being so short just starved her ego so greatly that she had to take it out on everyone around her. Lately, though, she'd realized that the Sun was as much connected to Celestia as Celestia was to the Sun. It gave her strength, resolve, and composure. When it wasn't present, those elements of her personality were stressed to breaking point.
So, as a personal favor to her sister, she took on some more of the duties than she normally would have. More than her fair share, in fact. The guards knocked on the Court's door, and the buzz grew louder.
"Court is close'd! There shan't be any more business tended to for the day!" She called without moving her head off the rug, flailing an arm in the air to accentuate her point.
"Your Highness, apologies, but this demands immediate attention."
It was then that Luna realized that the buzzing wasn't just in her ear. It was the unmistakable sound of widespread panic.
Apple Bloom sat on her haunches, pouting. She and the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been delegated to the "extremely important" task of "staying out of the way" while the "grownups" saved the "world". Bah.
"This is SO lame!" Scootaloo groaned rolling backwards and forwards on her scooter, smacking lightly into the wall of the clubhouse with her helmet each time. "There's all sorts of action out there and we're stuck inside. It isn't fair!"
"Rarity said 'the alien's fashion senses are utterly droll' and that they'd be a bad influence on me. They're ALIENS! Of COURSE they have bad fashion sense." The other two nodded in agreement while shuffling their hooves and wings, respectively, in frustration.
"Hey, I got an idea!" Apple Bloom said with a grin.
"What is it?" Sweetie Belle's voice cracked a bit as she hopped up gleefully.
"Let's just not listen to them! We can help, we can do stuff! Best of all, we get to see the aliens!"
"YEAH!" Scootaloo cried happily. "Buck the system!"
"Scootaloo!" Apple Bloom looked shocked. Sweetie Belle fought a snicker.
"Oh. Pardon my language." Scootaloo laughed as she buzzed over to the door. "Come on though, let's get out of here!" She flung the door open and they all began to run for it down the ramp. Scootaloo hooked up their wagon to the back of her scooter and buzzed her wings. "Ready for lift-off! Come on, let's get moving!"
The other two hopped in the back, and Apple Bloom tapped Scoot on the shoulder, signaling all-clear. They were off like bats out of that place that Applejack told Apple Bloom never to talk about. After a few minutes, the road into town came into view.
"Hey," Sweetie Belle called out, pointing a hoof in the distance, "what's that?"
There was a small green dot on the horizon coming toward them, a trail of dust behind it.
"It's the alien!" Scootaloo cried happily, "Let's get it!" She buzzed her wings, and they were going full-throttle, head-on, toward the alien, which was running at a frightening pace. The other two fillies grabbed on to each other; it was too late to jump off, so they just hoped for the best.
Chief, for his part, was unaware of the three fillies on their way to intercept him. His eyes were fixated on the image of Cortana as she spoke to him through his suit's manifold.
"It was obviously Forerunner energy, but it wasn't like anything I've seen on any of the halos, or the Ark for that matter. This might be something completely new, Chief."
"We'll figure it out," he said plainly, "as long as we stop the Covenant."
"Chief, look out!" Cortana shouted. Her image disappeared from his HUD and his vision refocused to in front of him. Too little too late, though, it was. He stuck his legs out in front of him and held his arms out behind him, trying desperately to skid to a stop. The scooter, driven by a little horse with wings -- What. The. Hell. -- struck his boot and went end-over-end. The little red wagon it had been towing flew as well, and two more little horses flew along. His shields glowed ever so faintly for just a second. Piddly damage for him to endure, but probably more than those little horses were used to.
When he had come to rest, he flipped onto his feet and turned to survey the damage. All three of the horses were in a little pile next to the wagon and scooter, which seemed mostly undamaged.
"Are you all right?" He called out quietly. A series of groans came in response.
"Ugh! You tried to KILL us!" The little orange one shouted.
Far from it, or you'd be ... well. "Didn't see you there."
"We were right in front of you!" Chief offered no reply as he walked over to them. "What, aren't you going to apologize?"
Chief just tilted his head as he was trying to figure out what was going on in front of him. The other two got to their hooves, and the yellow one with a big red bow ran over to him screaming. As she got near, she whipped around and gave him a full-force buck to the kneecap. His shields flared, draining an insignificant amount, and the little creature fell face-first on the ground. He didn't budge an inch. He found his cheek curling a little as he chuckled inwardly at the filly's actions.
"You big meanie!" She shouted as she got back up.
Chief began to crouch down, until he was almost sitting on his own heels. Still, he was three heads or so above her. She looked into his visor with horror.
"Boo."
Apple Bloom screamed and ran to hide behind her two friends.
"Who's the chicken now, 'Bloom?" Scootaloo snickered.
"Where are you going, mister alien?" Sweetie Belle stepped forward with what Chief thought might have been the most completely adorable face ever devised.
"That way." He points.
"Oh." She paused for a minute to choose her next words. "What's your name?"
"Sierra One-One-Seven."
"That's not your REAL name though. That's not a good name. What's your REAL name? Pleeeease?" Sweetie Belle made what was, in her opinion, positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most adorable face ever devised. There was no way that anybody could resist.
"No." Chief said plainly.
"What?!" Sweetie Belle said, shocked. "You're a robot or something, aren't you? I bet you're a robot! Girls, don't talk to him, he's a robot!"
"He ain't a robot, Sweetie Belle. He just don't wanna tell us his name. C'mon mister alien. We don't wanna call you mister alien, and Smear-of-Seven-Seven-One just ain't --"
"Sierra One-One-Seven."
"-- SEE! Ain't nopony can remember that. We gotta have SOMETHIN' to call you."
Chief just stared. A few tense moments passed before Cortana spoke up through the speakers his suit used to transmit his voice. "Call him Chief."
"Cortana."
"Seriously, Chief, which one of us is the machine?"
"Who's that?" Scootaloo asked.
"I'm Cortana. Chief would probably want me to say CTN 0452-9, though."
Chief seethed in his helmet. She was crossing a line here.
"Why can't we see you?" Sweetie Belle said, smiling. She was eager to meet a new friend.
"I'm in his head."
A long pause passed through as Chief clenched his fists.
"So you're make-believe?"
Chief had had enough of this. He turned and continued on his previous course.
"Hey, wait!" Scootaloo called out. When he didn't listen, she picked up her scooter and pursued at full speed. She kept up just along side of him. "We just wanted to know who you are."
"I don't want you to know. It's dangerous here, you should leave." He didn't even sound out of breath. He was running so fast, though. Scootaloo couldn't figure it out.
"What are you?"
"Spartan."
"Well, Spartan, we're not going anywhere." She motioned behind her to the fillies that had, somehow, been scooped up and put in the wagon again.
"Suit yourselves."
Luna stepped out onto the balcony to find a great metal object with fire streaming from several spots floating, without any apparent magic, and coming slowly lower. The ponies below in Canterlot proper were, predictably, terrified by this new development, but Luna watched with passive fascination as it landed a short ways from her. Her mane seemed unaffected by the downblast of the jet engines, which mystified the guards around her. As the door at the back of the Pelican opened, she cocked an eyebrow out of curiosity. In front of her were seven tall, bipedal figures holding objects of varying size that Luna extrapolated were probably armaments. One of the figures was noticeably taller than the others, and clothed in vastly different garb; it was purple, angular. Obviously it was extremely heavy, as the metal object from which they all emerged bounced up noticeably when its weight was removed. Five of the creatures fanned out in a small perimeter around the metal object, and another one in a white jacket stood next to the big purple one.
Linda started to step forward to introduce herself, but Doctor Akulov held out a hand and stepped forward instead.
She cleared her throat and said without an ounce of hesitation, "Take me to your leader." She turned around with a huge smile on her face. "I always wanted to say that."
Linda shook her head, unamused, and stepped in front of the good Doctor. "I'm Sierra Zero-Five-Eight. This is Doctor Akulov, and the rest of these men are my company. I recognize our presence here might be a surprise, and I'd love to talk, but I need to know something."
"Speak, then, Sierra Zero-Five-Eight." Luna said with a small amount of apprehension, but a steely face. She had to maintain composure for the sake of her subjects, but inside, she was terrified.
