Chapter Seven

Somewhere in Whitetail Woods

The battle, if it could really be called that, lasted less than thirty seconds and without any of the Diamond Dogs getting a single shot off. None of them were all that alert to start with, assured of their safety by the plasma weapons they carried and the distance they had travelled into the woods, and fewer still recognised the report of Michael's rifle as he opened up on them, starting with the sentry closest to him.

Had they been human fighters, they would have known the sharp crack echoing across the dip for what it was and responded accordingly. But because the natives of this planet had yet to develop a recognisable firearm beyond maybe a cannon they had no intimate knowledge of gunfire, so by the time they realised somebody was shooting up their party more than half of them were dead, and by the time they had narrowed down the rough location Michael was shooting from they were all dead, the last one to fall being their leader.

For the most part, the outcome was exactly as the lone Helljumper had predicted with all fourteen of the Diamond Dogs dead or dying as he stood and moved into the depression. The one thing that hadn't quite gone to plan, however, was Rarity. She had marginally more familiarity with gunfire than her captors did, what with her being preset when Michael had so dramatically revealed himself at Fluttershy's cottage, and realised what was happening long before they did and triangulated the source quicker too.

Emboldened, she delivered a kick potent enough to launch her kidnapper back several feet and catch him unawares before running towards her saviour. The problem arose when the Diamond Dog scrambled back to his feet, enraged, and aimed his carbine at the fleeing unicorn with murderous intent in his eyes. Michael couldn't be sure of his aim, or if he would just maim Rarity without actually killing her, so he erred on the side of caution and fired first. The dog dropped and remained still even as Michael emerged from his eyrie and drew close to them, rifle held level and ready as he went to inspect his handiwork.

The few Diamond Dogs who still clung onto life received a second round to put them out of their misery, ending the low and mournful howls of pain that drifted across the area, and were relieved of any and all weapons by Michael as he moved between them. It was less about leaving dangerous equipment around for someone else to find and more about supplementing his own limited supplies. Each of the weapons still had around ninety percent of a charge left, equal to maybe three or four hundred shots, plus five spare cartridges for the carbine.

Michael pocketed what he could and tied everything else to his pack, then snorted when he realised he looked like some kind of action hero getting ready to storm the bad guy's stronghold and put a stop to their evil plans with all the firearms strapped to him. Then he bemoaned the extra weight he had added, almost eighty kilos worth, and moved as quickly as he could to Rarity as she sat in the lee of a gnarled tree, staring over the body strewn battlefield with mute shock.

'Hey, you okay?' Michael asked gently as he took a knee next to the unicorn, reaching up to take his helmet off.

'I...' Rarity began before stopping, closing her mouth as she gave Michael a fleeting look before turning away again.

'Any injuries?' Michael said. 'Did they hurt you at all?'

'Not... directly,' Rarity said in a low voice.

'Show me.'

'It's nothing, gunnery sergeant. Save your supplies for something more worthwhile.'

'That's for me to decide,' Michael said. 'And I can't decide if you don't show me what they did.'

Rarity shivered slightly and bowed her head, but did as asked and turned to show him the other side of her face with Michael noting that she had pulled her mane down to cover it, and that there were several sections that had been singed to leave brown edges and in random patterns. Even as he brushed it aside he knew what the injury would be and, as expected, saw her coat had burned away and the skin beneath was both red raw and covered in a spider web pattern of cuts typical of white hot shrapnel.

Michael himself had more than a few such injuries on his body and they came about when plasma hit something like a rock or concrete that then shattered upon coming into contact with the three-thousand degree projectile, exploding like a fragmentation grenade to shower everyone nearby with debris that was just as hot as the plasma that caused it. Rarity's wound was directly on her cheek with the blast pattern heading towards her mouth and forehead, though by some miracle the shrapnel had missed her eye completely. Instead a fair sized chunk was missing from her eyebrow.

The ODST was quick to pull out his first aid kit and root around for a suitable sized dressing for the wound but Rarity put her hoof on his hand to stay it, saying, 'It's nothing, gunnery sergeant. Save your supplies-'

'For when I need them,' Michael cut in, pushing her hoof away. 'Yeah, I know, and it's now that I need them. This is a third degree burn and it needs immediate attention, Rarity. Trust me, I've seen and suffered more than a few such injuries myself.'

She relented and allowed Michael to dress the wound, wincing on occasion as he disturbed the burnt flesh, and offered a muted thank you when he finally sat back to admire his work. Like all his other instances of administering combat first aid, it was a crude effort that could have been done quicker and better by any navy corpsman but, as was often the saying, it just had to hold until they could get to proper facilities and personnel.

'Will it leave a scar?' Rarity asked.

'Yes,' Michael said, seeing no point in lying. 'How much of one depends on how skilled the doctors in Ponyville are, or wherever you go for treatment.'

'How bad are yours?'

'Terrible, but then the doctors who patched me back together were navy and they look down on ground pounders. I wouldn't be surprised if they sewed in some rude and obscene gesture as a prank.'

It was a poor joke but it made Rarity laugh regardless, a small chuckle escaping past her lips as she tried her best to avoid agitating her wound more than she needed to, which was good. If you could still laugh then you weren't beaten yet was another saying amongst Marines and soldiers, though it was usually followed by something along the lines of if you ain't beat then you can still fight. Michael had heard it said by his superiors many times before, and he had said it to his subordinates even more times as he tried to rally them during an attack.

He eased himself into a sitting position next to Rarity, back against the tree, and joined her in staring out over the depression that was host to fourteen dead bodies with half lidded eyes. Today had been a long one and sleep was desperately calling out to him, doubly so because evening was fast approaching and long shadows stretched out across the forest floor. This was a problem because Ponyville was more than fifteen miles away by Michael's reckoning and whilst it had only taken him around three hours to cover it coming this way, he doubted the return journey would be as quick.

Rarity was still in shock and likely exhausted from all the emotional turmoil of the day's events, so her rate of advance wouldn't be all that great, and travelling back in the dark didn't sound like something she could easily do given her lack of night optics. All it would take was one misplaced step in some unseen hole to break a leg and slow them down even further.

'Think you can make it back home tonight?' Michael asked.

'I... I can try,' Rarity said. 'It is getting quite dark, though.'

'Yeah,' Michael said. 'We might be able to make it one or two miles before the sun dips down entirely. Then we'd have to cover the rest of it in the dark, all thirteen or so miles of it all.'

'Are we really that far from Ponyville?' Rarity asked.

'More or less,' Michael said with a shrug. 'I wasn't really keeping track.'

Rarity laughed at that but nodded sagely, her head sagging forward more than it should have to give some indication about how tired she actually was.

'Maybe we can move whilst there's still light, then sleep until dawn,' she offered. 'I know they must all be worried sick about us back home but I'd rather get there without suffering any more injuries. If that's okay with you, gunnery sergeant.'

'That's fine by me,' Michael said before offering a tired smile. 'I just wish we'd thought of that before I sat down. Now I've got to try and stand up with all of this heavy gear attached to me.'

That earned another chuckle from the unicorn as the Helljumper struggled to his feet, teetering one way and then the other from the excessive weight attached to his rucksack, and Rarity soon joined him in standing and then returning to the trail that would lead them back to Ponyville, both their feet stumbling every now and then over obstacles that may or may not have been there.

'Are your parents going to be okay with you spending the night, alone, in the woods, with a member of the opposite sex?' Michael asked as they walked.

'This isn't the first time I've found myself in such a situation,' Rarity said with a suggestive tone. 'Just ask Caramel when we get home.'

Somewhere in Whitetail Woods

Their home for the night was little more than a slight depression in the ground, deep enough to take them out of the gentle breeze blowing through the trees but shallow enough that it wouldn't take too long to scramble out of it, and they set about making it as comfortable as they could with the materials available, though this amounted to Michael taking a camouflaged poncho and spreading it across the hole with a stick in the middle to hold it all up. Rarity didn't complain, curling up into a ball once the shelter was in place and falling into a deep sleep with Michael joining soon after, though he slept lightly.

There was always the chance of other Diamond Dogs roaming the woods in search of them and without another Helljumper or remote sensors, his ability to distinguish between the natural sounds of the woods and those of a person moving through them was the only early warning system he and Rarity had to protect them. Thankfully, dawn came before any patrols did and the two of them were quick to break camp and resume their homeward journey at a sedate pace, talking only occasionally as they kept their ears open for unnatural sounds.

During one such conversation, Rarity broached the subject that had to have been weighing on her mind since being abducted.

'How's Spike?' she asked. 'The Diamond Dogs... Well, I'm sure you saw what happened.'

'He was in surgery, the last I knew,' Michael said. 'Critically injured but alive.'

'Do you think he'll pull through?'

'I can't tell,' Michael said with a shake of his head. 'He suffered more than a few plasma burns based on what I saw, plus a carbine round to the gut. That would be enough to put a human down but we're not able to swim in lava like dragons can. That might have cut down on the severity of the burns a little, maybe enough to save him.'

'So, there's hope?'

'I guess.'

Rarity could only give nod at that and adopted a concerned expression, staring intently at the trail before her without actually looking at it. Her attention was elsewhere at this moment, likely on the little purple and green dragon or maybe on Twilight Sparkle and the torment and anguish she was going through right now. It was a state Michael had been in many times himself, worrying about an ODST under his command that the Covenant had badly wounded and was being seen to by navy doctors, their future hanging by a thread.

Sometimes he never learned of their fate for months at a time, rushing from one battlefield to the next and with too shoddy a communications network to get word down to him, with it being roughly fifty-fifty as to whether the news was good or bad. What would it be when they returned to Ponyville, Michael wondered. Might the doctors of Ponyville General have performed a miracle and saved Spike, or might they have failed in the face of injuries they had yet to encounter and develop methods for treating?

As they drew closer to Ponyville, the more this seemed to weigh on Rarity's mind as she gradually began to pick up speed with every mile they covered until the unicorn was moving at a moderate trot that caused Michael to break out into a jog to keep up with, a task made all the harder by the Covenant equipment he was carrying. By the time they were less than two miles away, he was sweating and breathing hard from the exertion and still Rarity increased her speed, eventually leaving the gunnery sergeant behind as civilisation became faintly visible through the trees.

He let her go and slowed his pace a little to try and catch his breath, emerging from the woods only a few minutes behind Rarity to see she was already swept up in masses of hugs from the ponies that had mounted some kind of vigil for the return of the duo, setting up tents of all sizes around the area. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were front and centre with the hugging, tightly squeezing their friend as though their lives depended on it.

Michael just watched it all unfold from afar, not wanting to get involved in such an overt display of emotion and unsure if the two Pegasi would be all that happy to see him again after yesterday's events. Rainbow Dash had seemed on the verge of causing physical harm to the ODST when he left to fetch Rarity and Fluttershy was barely able to even look in his general direction. Even so, the demure yellow Pegasus was the first to actually acknowledge the human's presence and disentangled herself from the crowd to shuffle over to him, averting her gaze, only to rush forward and wrap her hoofs around his waist in such a quick hug that Michael couldn't be sure she had actually made physical contact.

'T-Thank you,' Fluttershy managed to squeak out, maintaining her lack of eye contact. 'For getting her back.'

'Don't mention it,' Michael said. 'Just doing my job.'

Fluttershy squeaked out another thank you then darted back to the crowd as it began moving towards the hospital to get Rarity checked in for her burn, Michael waiting until they were gone from sight to move off on his own path to Golden Oaks Library, still keenly aware of the eighty kilos of plasma weaponry strapped to his back and his own desperate need to be rid of the weight, and to have a proper meal.

Golden Oaks Library

The library was quiet when he stepped inside but that was to be expected, not that it stayed silent for long as Michael dumped his gear with little in the way decorum and grace and began banging around in the kitchen as he set about making himself a hearty meal, or as close to one as he could manage in the predominantly herbivore culture that was Equestria. The only saving grace was that they still had eggs and he doubled up on his serving of them to stand in for the bacon and sausages that normally came with breakfast.

As he ate, Michael's assumption that the library was empty was broken when Twilight Sparkle came down from up above, her mane a tangled mess and her eyes bloodshot from crying, and she lingered on the upper steps as she looked down at Michael and his meal, only to switch to the collection of Covenant weapons littering the floor with her expression taking on a hint of distaste.

'Rarity's safe,' Michael said. 'She's at the hospital right now.'

Twilight said and did nothing, expressing neither gratitude nor relief at the news her close friend was back after fearing for her life only yesterday. She just continued to look at the ODST with that unwavering expression as he sat at the table and ate his food.

Then she said, 'Spike's dead.'

'Oh,' Michael said. 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

'Are you really?' Twilight said.

'Yes,' Michael said. 'I've lost more than a few people close to me. I know how bad it can hurt.'

'Do you?' Twilight said.

She looked like she was about to burst into tears, or just start shouting in rage and anger at Michael for something, real or imagined. He elected to keep his mouth shut lest he say or do something that might incur her wrath. Dealing with civilians who had experienced the loss of a close and personal friend was always a tricky thing to do because they hardly ever prepared themselves mentally for it, and even when they did it was never enough to quell the torrent of unfamiliar and overwhelming emotions that came from losing a loved one.

'He died not long after we left the hospital,' she continued. 'Whilst we were playing those stupid games of yours. When you were pretending to kill us.'

Michael said nothing. He knew what Twilight was trying to do. She was projecting her anguish onto something external as a means of trying to cope with losing Spike and he was probably the best candidate for it all, given his familiarity with the weapons that had killed the dragon and his antagonistic behaviour in Whitetail Woods yesterday, and there was nothing he could do or say presently that would sway Twilight Sparkle to think otherwise. She was far too emotional to listen to anything, not even her usual rational thought processes.

So Michael just finished off his meal and gathered up his things, and headed towards the front door. When he reached it, he turned back to look at Twilight Sparkle and said, 'Grieve, then come speak to me when you're thinking more clearly. You know I'm not responsible for Spike's death.'