Divisions and Diversions
Iron Hearts: Book 5
Chapter 4
Divisions and Diversions
****
Uninhabited Region, 12 kilometers from Ork landing zone
"Oi, pick it up, ladz! We gots sumfin' up dere!"
Beams of light slashed through the darkness while the Ork Biker mob ripped across the empty plains. Their headlights washed over thick columns of smoke as they crested a small hill, and the Nob started to slow down after he got a good look at the area below.
"Well, sumwun foun' sum fightin', a'roight," chuckled a Biker as he slowed to a stop. His headlight was aimed at an Ork Trukk that was contributing the most smoke to the column that marked out this location and had led them here.
Dozens of Ork bodies littered the ground. Several motorbikes were scattered around the area as well, most of them parked. No less than three Trukks had been wrecked, each one having been blown apart and partially melted. The mobs that had ventured here appeared to be a complete loss.
"Oi! Dat's Girog! Dat git ohs me six teef!" complained one of the Bikers, pointing to a corpse.
"Den take 'em. He don' need 'em no more," the Nob grunted before he parked his bike and dismounted. "Dese is Zokk's boyz. Wot is dis?"
"Not jus' Zokk. Dat's Gurim's Trukk."
"An' dat's Dundreg ovah dere. He ain't part o'dem uddah mobs. Waddya fink got 'em?"
The Nob growled. He had come here expecting some action, not a mystery. "Oi! Wun o'ya gits go back ta da boss an' tell 'im wot's 'ere!"
One Biker grunted loudly and swung his bike around, gunning the engine before he started accelerating back toward the main body of the army. The rest of the mob started spreading out to observe the bodies.
None of them were looking back at the scout being sent away, and thus they didn't know anything was wrong until they heard the motorbike hit the dirt and scrape its way to a halt.
"Wuzzat?" the Nob demanded, whirling around.
One of the Bikers still mounted swung his motorcycle around to bring its headlight to bear. The light spilled over the downed bike, revealing that its wheels were still spinning and its rider was gone. The light also managed to catch a crimson splash across the ground.
The beam shifted to follow the blood, and it eventually revealed the body of the Ork Biker, lying in a heap with its throat slashed open.
"Well, dat's not gud," mumbled one of the boyz.
"Wot da zog is goin' on heah?!" the Nob demanded, his power klaw clanking shut irritably.
Then a burst of toxin-crystal shards punched into his back.
All around the Orks, dark shapes leapt out from behind the wrecked vehicles and parked motorbikes, wings beating against the air. The Ork shining a light on their fallen comrade was tackled off of his bike as metal talons plunged into the side of his neck. Another Biker along the periphery didn't react fast enough when a shadowy equine form jumped in front of his bike and bucked him in the forehead. The Nob, struggling against the poison flooding his body, was finished off with a blade through his back.
The other greenskins found themselves being strafed from the shadows, surrounded by the beat of leathery wings and the glowing emerald lights of numerous optics masks. Splinter rifle shots speared into them from all directions, and by the time the alien warriors started firing back the outermost ring of Orks were already slumping to the ground.
"Wot's goin' on? Wot're dese tings?!" one Biker shouted while his slugga bucked in his hand. He couldn't see much besides green lights and the dim muzzle glow of the splinter rifle discharges, so he aimed for any spot of light he could.
Another boy made a run for his bike, only for a stream of small, squealing animals to swoop down near his head, causing him to duck.
"Bats! Dey's bats!" he shouted over the din of gunfire.
"Da zog dey is! Bats don' got no dakka!" retorted his companion, bolting toward one of the glimmering green lights with choppa raised.
An ear-rending screech caused the charging Ork to flinch, and the next thing he knew a dark shape was twisting toward him through the air with glittering blades arcing toward his throat.
"Surprise!" Dusk Blade shouted before his hooves slammed home into the Ork's neck. "You green morons really can't take a hint! You see a bunch of dead bodies and you wander right into the middle of them!" He kicked his hoof-blade free of the alien's throat, and then swooped away from a choppa swinging toward him from another attacker. The Ork brought his slugga to bear, but Dusk was already upon him, jabbing at the warrior's face with his forehoof and kicking his rear legs at him. While suspended in the air by the heavy beat of his wings, every strike seemed timed and calculated to drive the talons home on a vulnerable point, while the wild, bobbing flight of the batpony foiled the Ork's desperate defense.
Several of the lights provided by the motorbikes were shot out by splinters, and several more dark shapes galloped out of the shadows between the dead bodies, slinking low to the ground and cutting at Ork shins. Others darted forward high in the air, forelegs extended before they dove at the alien soldiers from above.
Dusk Blade finished off his current opponent - badly bleeding and disarmed by now - with a back kick to the forehead, and then bit onto the handle of the dagger strapped to his chest.
"For Equestria! For Princess Luna! For the 38th Company!" he shouted around the blade before he lunged for the back of the next opponent.
The Ork was battering another batpony out of his face when Dusk's hoofblades sunk into his shoulders, and then a dagger plunged into the back of his neck. As the warrior started gasping, the annoyed batpony who had been attacking him latched onto his face and then bit into the Ork's throat.
Dusk let the other pony have the foe, and then spent a moment hovering in the air. The shrieking of the other batponies, the thumping of Ork corpses against the dirt, and the unnecessarily loud report of Ork sluggas roared around him. With a moment of concentration, the maddening cacophony formed a crystal-clear picture in his mind of the surrounding terrain and the movement of bodies. His ears twitched.
Dusk Blade darted to the side, and a choppa cleaved through the space that would have otherwise been his flank.
"One swing, that's all you get," he snapped as he spun around in the air and lashed out at his attacker with a spin-kick. The Ork grunted when the blades tore across his face, and the alien warrior staggered back. A quick burst from Dusk's splinter rifle had him keeling over onto the ground for good.
Again taking a moment to track the battle via echolocation, he noticed that three Orks were breaking for their motorbikes. The rest were confused, hurt, and badly outnumbered now that much of the mob had been cut down, and wouldn't last much longer.
"Nacht! You're up!" Dusk shouted.
A new batpony swooped out of the pillar of smoke and landed heavily on the hood of a wrecked Trukk. This one had a larger weapon secured onto her foreleg, with numerous tubes running from a power supply on her back and a fanged mouth making up the short, squat barrel.
"Is there an ECHO in here?!" she shouted, aiming the weapon at the greenskins jumping onto their bikes.
A deep, throbbing bass boomed from the strange gun, and the batponies shuddered as a sonic pulse blasted across the battlefield.
For the Orks mounting their bikes, the effect was more dramatic. The sonic pulses crashed together over the aliens in a head-splitting crescendo, and two of them roared in pain as blood seeped from their ears. They slumped to the ground a moment later, completely stunned.
The third Ork staggered, but managed to keep his focus while he revved the engine. Soon he was speeding away, the headlight slashing through the darkness.
The light briefly crossed the motorbike that had been knocked over earlier when the first Ork had made to carry news back to the army.
As if the reminder had been an omen of things to come, a loud screech briefly overcame the rumble of the Ork's motorbike. A moment later another batpony leapt into the Biker's path, blades scything for his throat.
"Music to my ears," sighed Dusk Blade as the alien's surprised shout was quickly silenced.
Then he landed and looked over the Lunar Guard standing over the freshly massacred Orks. "Everypony okay? Any wounded?"
"Lieutenant!" shouted one of the thestrals over near a wrecked Trukk.
He headed over, wincing when he saw a mare curled up on the ground and trembling. Two other ponies were with her, pressing a blood-soaked compress onto her side.
"Shady took a lucky hit from an axe. Tore her wing clean off," hissed one of them.
Dusk nodded grimly. "Shady, can you still walk?"
The batpony on the ground nodded, her teeth clenched.
"Good. Head back to waypoint seven for evac. Lune, you go with her," the Lunar Lieutenant ordered.
With that business done with, he marched up to the batpony standing on top of the trukk and still holding her sonic weapon at the ready. "Nacht!"
"Yes, Lieutenant?" she asked, perking up.
"As soon as we get back to base, you're relegated to the barracks until you come up with a new catch-phrase!" he shouted.
Nacht recoiled in surprise, and her ears fell flat against her head. "What's wrong with the one I have? See, it works because the gun is called an echo cann-"
"I get it," Dusk deadpanned, "but it still sucks harder than Gloom Fang."
"Hey!" complained another Guard, blood dripping from his muzzle.
"I meant you suck literally, Gloomy."
"Oh." He dropped his head again and went back to slurping up the crimson fluids seeping from the dead Orks.
"The humans have some top-notch one-liners, and I won't have my own team coming across as a bunch of dorks!" He spread his wings, and then turned toward the rest of his soldiers. "Back into position, ponies! These green thickheads haven't clued in yet, so-"
He stopped when a vox transmission came in over his headset, and then he quickly folded his wings.
"Echo Six, this is Echo Nine. Are you clear to assist?"
"This is Lieutenant Blade. Talk to me, Midnight," Dusk replied, checking the auspex on his leg, "your ambush go bad?"
"No, we had to abandon it. Two Battlewagons came rolling through covered in searchlights and guns. They even had a walker escort. We couldn't even get close, so we snuck away. Think we could double-team them?"
Dusk looked over his soldiers, most of whom were shaking their heads or avoiding eye contact (or optics contact, as it were). "I don't know, Midnight. That sounds like a pretty tough nut to crack. We're almost out of melta bombs, too."
"Well, we have to do SOMETHING. Those freaks are going to start rolling over our ambush sites and probably a few listening posts, if we let them."
As Dusk Blade considered the tactical maths of going after such large vehicles, another voice chimed in over the vox.
"Midnight Blaze, Dusk Blade. Take thy comrades to intercept the foe," commanded a very distinct and familiar voice.
"Princess! Good evening!" Dusk said cheerfully.
"And a fair evening to thee, Lieutenant," Luna said, "now make for Lieutenant Blaze's position. We shalt dispose of the enemy's tools of war and show these green mongrels the folly of their savage crusade."
Dusk Blade looked over his fellow thestrals for a moment. "So... when you say 'we', do you mean, like, us Lunar Guards, or-"
"We refer to our royal self, Lieutenant," Luna replied dryly.
"Awesome! Just checking! Lieutenant Blade, out!" he shouted, severing the vox connection. "All right, you heard the mare! Everypony move out! And Gloom, for moon's sake, get a napkin or something, would you? That's just GROSS."
****
The heavy rumble of big diesel engines shattered the nighttime quiet as the Battlewagons rode across the hills. Large searchlights were mounted on every turret, sweeping back and forth across the ground in search of anything of interest.
And the surroundings were plenty interesting.
"Wot's wit all da ded boyz?" demanded a Nob leaning over the edge of the crew compartment. Every few meters they came upon another bike, mutilated grot, or a dead Ork at the end of a long streak of dried blood.
"Dunno, Boss. I ain't seein' nuffin' wot killed 'em," confessed one of the soldiers manning a big shoota and its attached spotlight.
A cacophony of loud squeaks came from one of the bodies as a spotlight swept over it, and dozens of small, dark shapes scattered into the air.
"Ya fink da batz got 'em?" asked another Ork.
The Nob gave him a look. "Da batz? Yoo fer reelz?" He snorted, and then leaned over the edge to wave at the Deff Dread stomping along next to the Battlewagon. "Oi! Liff up wun o'dem ded boyz!"
A screeching noise issued from the Deff Dread's pincer arm as it reached down and clamped onto a dead Biker. It then lifted the corpse up next to the Battlewagon, which slowed to a stop.
The Nob aimed a spotlight at the dangling body, and then pointed at it.
"See? Dat ain't no bat killin'. Dere's wun cut 'cross da neck. Sumfin else got 'em."
"Humies? Or spikies?" asked another boy.
The Nob grunted. It was no feat of intellect to deduce that the single long gash hadn't been made by a small animal with tiny claws incapable of tearing Ork flesh, but he struggled to identify the wound otherwise. "... Dunno. Mebbe."
"Wot 'bout da hosses?" asked another warrior. The young Ork was smacked upside the head for his trouble.
"Don' be dumm. How ya fink hosses is gonna hurt an Ork?" the Nob snorted.
The conversation was interrupted by another flurry of squeaks and beating wings, and the Orks ducked down when another swarm of small mammals zoomed overhead.
"Shor are a lotta dem batz, doh," grumbled the Nob, shielding his head.
"'EY!" shouted an Ork from the other Battlewagon. "I fink I saw sumfin'!" One of the big shootas was swiveling back and forth, its spotlight slashing across the rocks and abandoned bikes next to the path.
"If it ain't an Ork, den shoot it ded!" shouted the Nob to other vehicle.
"Uh... can't tell from heah, Boss!"
The Nob growled. "Den shoot it eneeways!"
That was all the invitation the Ork gunners needed, and the big shootas on the far side of the Battlewagon started spraying bullets across the ground. After a few seconds, the Ork warriors being transported started firing their shootas and sluggas over the edge of the passenger bay, lighting up that entire side of the vehicle with muzzle flash.
After a few more seconds, the big shootas on the other Battlewagon started firing too, and the Nob whirled on one of his gunners.
"Wot's goin' on? You see sumfin' too?"
"Nah," answered the boy between bursts of gunfire, "jus' bored." The mob leader laughed.
Its doubtful that the heavy suppressive fire sawing across the shadows did any damage, but at the very least it seemed to have a severe effect on the wildlife: the bat swarms that had been circling the battlewagons started to converge into a single, swirling orb over the Ork vehicles. The squeaks and screeches of the agitated mammals became louder and angrier, until finally the creatures simply seemed to all meld into a single, spherical black mass.
"Da zog is dat?" mumbled the one Ork soldier that happened to be looking up at the screeching animals rather than shooting blindly into the darkness.
The anomalous black orb swooped down in front of the Battlewagons, splashing onto the ground in full view of the vehicle headlights. Many of the gunners stopped to stare as the blackness sloshed about like ink, but with suspiciously little respect for gravity. It swirled and churned, and then slowly warped itself into a stable shape right before the Orks' eyes.
Soon that shape hardened, giving way to hardened planes of ebony and edges of shining gold. Finally, two windows of blazing red appeared at the head, glaring up at the spotlights above.
"Come, aliens," said Princess Luna, her voice lilting and melodious even through the vox grille, "let the Princess of Dreams put you to rest."
Hiding behind a freshly bullet-riddled boulder, Dusk Blade turned toward Nacht.
"See that? THAT is a proper one-liner."
Nacht pouted, her ears pinned back.
The Orks didn't seem to appreciate the dramatic entrance nearly as much.
"KILL IT DED!!"
Both Battlewagons turned all available guns on the dark Princess, and a veritable storm of bullets rained down toward the black, armored figure. Some of them even hit her.
It wasn't until the rear Battlewagon swung its kannon down to aim at the dark equine that Luna's horn started to glow.
The massive gun made a sound like a thunderclap as it discharged, sending a shell sailing in Luna's general direction. In response, the alicorn's horn casing flared red, and then the kannon shell halted in the air, trembling, and wrapped in a crimson aura. A slight turn of her head, and the shell was flung through the air right into the face of the Deff Dread moving up to engage her, smashing into its face plate. The walker rocked backward under the explosion, shaken but still intact.
Luna's horn flared brighter, and clouds of sparkling red power bled from her helmet while the lower-caliber bullets continued scraping over her armor to little effect.
The Princess reared up, and a ghostly whinny escaped her vox grille before she fell back to her hooves again. When she did, a visible wave of power pulsed out over the ground, washing over the Ork vehicles. One by one, in rapid succession, the lights attached to the Battlewagon, Deff Dread, and various turret mounts shattered outward and fizzled. Within seconds, the Orks were plunged into the full darkness of Luna's night, their only immediate source of light being the muzzle flash of their guns.
"Come, our servants!" Luna demanded, the Iron Gage deploying as the Deff Dread moved once again to intercept her. "The foe's sight hath been taken! Let the shadows strike them with blade and fire!"
The beat of leathery wings and the glittering of green optics lights were the only sign of new combatants, and even those few Orks that noticed them seemed to think that the dark shape wrapped in waves of blazing red power was a more important target.
The Lunar Guard struck with speed and discretion, with two batponies darting under the Battlewagons and sliding to a stop on their backs. Melta bombs were clamped onto the vehicle undersides, and then armed. Then the nocturnal warriors rolled away and flew back out into the open night, racing clear of the potential blast zone.
One Battlewagon exploded violently when the charge detonated, ripping its hull in half and spraying Orks and flame over the ground. The other fared a bit better, collapsing without its fuel supply igniting.
The disabling of the transports only distantly registered to Luna, who was fully engaged with the Deff Dread. The Iron Gage seized the walker's close combat arm, the crackling fingers digging into the hydraulic pistons. The giant pincer snapped wildly as the floating power fists held it away from the armored mare, but soon the metal shrieked and tore, and the limb was flung away to the side.
The Dread took a heavy step back, and then it unleashed its skorcha at point-blank range, blasting the dark pony with flame.
Luna recoiled at the river of fire, and numerous alerts flashed over her visor. She could even hear a frustrated growl echo deep within her mind; an errant thought that clearly was not her own. Her armor seals held, however, and Luna concentrated on her next strike as the skorcha's attack waned and a roaring buzzsaw blade was thrust forward at her.
Multiple flashes of black lightning crashed against the Deff Dread's hull, and the machine shook as dark tendrils of power lashed around its arm and fused several of the joint components.
With a new opening, the Iron Gage shot forward and gripped the edges of the cockpit seal, its power field humming. With another moment of concentration the metal plating started to peel away from the cockpit with a horrendous shriek, creating a small opening into the vehicle interior.
Luna wasted no time when the Dread's other limbs started to converge on her once more, and a small dart of flame shot from her horn into the new hole in the hull. A panicked scream followed a moment later, and the Princess of the Night released her hold on the machine.
As the pilot cooked inside his vehicle, Luna jumped up on top of the stalled combat walker and surveyed the rest of the battle. The Orks that had been transported in the wrecked Battlewagon - and a few survivors from the one that had exploded - had abandoned their ruined vehicles to fight on foot. As expected, they had been immediately assaulted by the batponies hiding all around the ambush point, and most of the aliens already had two or three Lunar Guard circling them and lashing out with blades and hooves.
In the center of the green mob, covering near the light of a burning engine, there was a more solid core of resistance. A Nob was firing a big shoota - stripped straight off the Battlewagon, from the look of it - more or less blindly into the attacking batponies, and two other boys were staying close at hand and swiping defensively at any thestrals that threatened to approach. One such batpony tried to swoop in behind them, only for the Nob to turn with surprising swiftness and club the Lunar Guard out of the air with his gun. The pony bounced across the ground and slammed into a pile of wreckage, and the larger Ork promptly went back to spraying bullets at shadows.
With a thought, a wave of liquid darkness swept over Luna and teleported her right in front of the stubborn aliens.
Black lightning blasted one of the guards off his feet, slaying him in an instant. The Iron Gage descended on the other one, seizing his head between both black hands before they began to squeeze.
"WAAAAGH!!" The Nob turned the big shoota on Luna, hammering her ebony carapace with dozens of bullets to little apparent effect.
Luna's horn casing flashed again, and the inky shadows emerged and swirled around her legs before curving through the air and lashing out at the bigger Ork. The magical darkness cut through him like a blade, and the alien warrior roared in fury as his arm was sliced off at the shoulder.
A black, gore-soaked metal hand answered him, slamming its open palm against his chest and throwing him back onto the dirt.
Even while blood gushed from his shoulder and his ribs strained against the blow to his chest, the Nob growled and searched the surrounding ground for his weapon. He found it lying behind him, intact, with his severed arm still gripping it tightly.
"Stoopid zoggin' hosses fink dey can mess wit me," the Ork grunted, rolling his body closer to the big shoota. Each breath and motion caused his body to ache, but the heady adrenaline rush of battle surged through him and electrified his senses. "I'll show 'em!" He stretched his remaining arm toward the gun.
It suddenly bounced up into the air, out of reach, wrapped in an aura of bright red.
The big shoota shook for a moment as it hovered just above the Ork, and then the barrel suddenly folded in half. Then the gun was flung to the side, skidding across the blood-stained dirt.
As the Nob reflected upon the life choices that had led him up to this point, he couldn't help but notice that there were no more sounds of battle coming from around him. The reports of sluggas, the pained grunts of his boyz, and the annoying shrieks of the batponies had been replaced by near-total silence. The only things spoiling the quiet was the crackling fire nearby and the gentle huffs of breathing through dozens of respirator masks all around him.
The mob leader used his remaining arm to push himself onto his back. He was unsurprised to see about twenty equine shapes surrounding him, all of them wearing dark combat armor and optics masks. He was somewhat surprised to see that they had bat wings, because that was just weird. Most of his attention, regardless, was reserved for the largest of the ponies, and the Ork grinned while he stared into the blood-red visor of Luna's helmet.
"Heh heh heh..."
Luna tilted her head to the side curiously. "Is there something that thou finds amusing about thy current predicament, Ork? Doth the massacre of thy kin and subordinates entertain thee?"
The Nob kept chuckling. "It wuz hosses all along. Dat's a laff." His eyes seemed to glint happily as he looked up at the dark alicorn. "Youz even gud fer fightin'. Takin' dis planet's gunna be FUN."
Many of the Lunar Guards shook their wings in agitation and anger, but none of them made a move without their Princess's order.
"As ever, We art perplexed by thy gleeful disposition in the face of annihilation," Luna deadpanned, "We shalt remove ALL thy kind from our world, alien. Thou shalt not prevail here."
This time the Ork laughed even louder, although it quickly trailed off into painful coughing.
"Haaa... Ya dumm hosses fink youz can beat da Orks? 'Cuz ya stomped a cuppel boyz and da wagons?" He snorted. "We'z gots lots mo' boyz ta kill 'fore ya can tokk so big, hoss. Boss Redclawz is gunna rip ya ta shredz. An' even if ya krump him - an' ya won't! - dere's even mo' boyz, an' mo tanks, and mo' Warbosses comin'. Youz ALL ded! Ha!"
Luna considered the boast at length, and the servos of her armor whirred softly as she stepped forward and lowered her head until she was almost nose-to-nose with the Nob.
"We shalt see, greenskin, how many of thy dead thou must crawl over before thou can hope to overcome us. The tally may yet prove greater than even thou savages art willing to bear." Luna's voice was gentle and almost musical as she leaned in yet further, speaking directly into the Nob's ear. "But regardless of thy strength, or even the outcome of this war, We shalt teach thy kind to fear the dark."
Then Luna turned away, her Iron Gage clamping onto her shoulder pads.
"Lunar Guard. Come," she commanded. Most of the thestrals gave confused looks at the still-living Ork, but they quickly made to obey as they followed their Princess.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Dusk Blade trotted up next to Luna.
"Princess, you realize that isn't a fatal wound to an Ork, right? That big one is going to survive."
"Aye," Luna replied, not looking back at her Lieutenant, "ensure that one is not harmed further by any other Lunar Guards still patrolling the shadows. If we art to teach the alien fear, then they must have some inkling as to the threat that stalks them at night. One or two survivors bringing tales of ambush and massacre shalt suffice."
"Of course, Princess," Midnight Blaze said, trotting up on Luna's other side, "where do we go now?"
Luna halted, and her visor flickered with new map displays as it showed the sensor intercepts by the scattered listening posts.
"There art still many foes that dare wander away from their army, and the night is still young," the Dark Princess declared. For a moment Dusk Blade swore that the eyes of the Iron Skull on Luna's chest plate were glowing brighter. "We hunt!"
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 24 landing platforms
"Easy, lad. You're going to be just fine. We're home now," Daniels said soothingly as he carried a whimpering pegasus down the gunship embarkation ramp.
The pony had a gauze compress wrapped over his left shoulder, and the attached foreleg had been badly mangled. His left wing was in slightly better shape, although it bore a small hole and was missing a patch of feathers.
As they reached the bottom of the ramp, Daniels waited in front of two Dark Techpriests that were chatting in bursts of Binaric Cant while one removed a bullet from a wounded sniper. After a few seconds they noticed the mercenary and his wounded "passenger", and one of them gestured to the ground.
He put the stallion down next to them, but the Dark Techpriests quickly returned to buzzing at each other.
"Just... try to keep off your injured side," Daniels mumbled, getting a trembling nod from the winged equine.
The mercenary sighed and scrubbed his hair with his hand as he left the landing platform, still gripping his rail rifle tightly.
He paused when he saw a Tau battlesuit transport zoom overhead, probably returning from the same mission he had been on. He had a few questions for the Stealth Suit team, but reasoned that he was unlikely to get answers.
"Hey, Wyatt! Yer okay!"
He whirled around at the shout, and had to smile despite himself as he saw Applejack running up the avenue. Twilight was coming up behind her, although both ponies weren't wearing their armor, for once. In contrast to the naked mares, a unicorn stallion he didn't remember was bringing up the rear wearing colored carapace plate with a lasgun and power sword secured to his back.
"Hey, AJ. You came back already?" Daniels asked, leaning against a stack of crates.
"Ya kiddin'? Ah'd have been back sooner if Ah knew there was another bunch o'green varmints makin' planetfall again!" Applejack said when she reached the man and sat down.
Twilight sat down behind the farmer, and her horn glowed before a small dome barrier appeared over them to keep out the pollution. "So... I heard the estimates. How bad is it?" the alicorn asked gingerly.
Daniels didn't answer right away, reaching over to Applejack and rubbing her head through her hat. The orange mare squirmed and batted his hand away with a leg, frowning adorably at him.
Then he sighed. "It's bad. Very bad."
"There are more Orks than expected?" asked the stallion.
Daniels took off his mask and stared at the unicorn, and then Twilight suddenly cleared her throat.
"Right! You haven't been introduced! Daniels, this is my big brother, Prince of the Crystal Empire, and Captain of the Royal Guard, Shining Armor! Shining, this is Rifleman Wyatt Daniels of the 38th Company!" Twilight said enthusiastically.
Shining Armor nodded. "I see. I've heard a few things about you, Mister Daniels. You're the 'nice one'."
Twilight chuckled nervously a bit. Daniels raised an eyebrow.
"Depends on who you ask," he admitted, "I still kill for a living."
Then he sighed and rubbed his forehead again. "... There's more Orks than expected," Daniels said after a pause, "but frankly, that much almost IS expected. The problem is that we've got Gargants."
Applejack tilted her head to the side. "What're Gargants?"
"Imagine a Killa Kan," the rifleman said, pausing until the mares nodded (Shining Armor didn't quite know what Killa Kans looked like). "Now scale that up until it's the size of the dorms complex."
The ponies' eyes bulged.
"Now strap on a mess more guns, and a belly full of Ork infantry. Now you've got yourself a Gargant," Daniels finished.
Twilight stared, and then she shook her head. "There's no way! Something that big couldn't possibly move in a normal gravitational field!"
Daniels shrugged. "Well, you feel free to tell them that when they arrive."
The group turned their heads to watch as a familiar stomping came up on the landing pads. Warsmith Solon was approaching with a handful of Tau following him, including Shas'el Wraithstar and Shas'vre Jerriha.
Applejack leaned over to Daniel. "So how'd the grays do? They still mopin' that they gotta fight fer ya?"
"Yeah, it's kind of a sticking point," Daniels mumbled back, "and besides the lousy morale, we can't understand each other. Makes it hard to issue orders."
Solon paused, and then looked over to the group.
Applejack waved at him, smiling. "Howdy, Warsmith! Checkin' on the scout team?"
"That I am," Solon answered, "the Wonderboltsh arrived nearly an hour ago, and have been debriefed." He turned his optics onto Daniels. "The Shentinel team performed a largely technical role thish time, but I shtill wanted to get Mishter Danielsh' impreshion of the enemy."
"Too damn many, and too damn big," Daniels grumbled.
"Noted," the Warsmith replied, swiveling toward the landing platforms again, "that leavesh our little gray friendsh."
Applejack snorted derisively, throwing a glare at Jerriha. She stared back coldly, arms crossed over her chest.
The pair of sort-of-enemies held that pose as the Stealth Suit team approached. The battlesuits kept casting wary glances at Solon, but for the most part ignored the Iron Warrior to approach Wraithstar.
*Shas'el, mission complete. We have arrived for debriefing,* said the head Stealth Suit. Daniels couldn't understand the language, but he recognized the cracks in its arm plating; this was the one that had been subjected to the friendly fire "accident" near the ruins.
Wraithstar remained silent, staring at his soldiers grimly. Solon walked up next to them.
*You're reporting to me this evening, Shas'vre, not Wraithstar,* the Warsmith said in barely accented Tau, *what were your casualties?*
The Stealth Suit pilot hesitated. *None.*
*Enemy contacts?*
*Three events. One Gretchin herd and two Trukks with Ork squad in transit. All targets destroyed.*
*Good! Very good!* Solon said happily, leaning over toward the battlesuit and causing it to step backward reflexively. *Your impression of the enemy force?*
*... Nothing unique about it. Just Orks. Easy to outwit, hard to stop,* the Tau soldier mumbled.
*I see. Finally, what is this I hear about communication problems between my troops and yours?* Solon asked, his optics flickering.
The Stealth Suit hesitated, glancing over at Wraithstar.
*It was my understanding that translation programs were installed on all battlesuit units and all communication nodes updated to access our vox networks,* Solon continued.
Wraithstar didn't say anything, but continued staring hard at his subordinate.
*... I must have missed that update,* the pilot mumbled, still not looking at the Warsmith.
"My shcansh of your shyshtem logsh indicate that the transhlation shoftware ish inshtalled and functional," Solon declared, suddenly switching to Gothic, "furthermore, it hash been inshtalled shince well before today'sh mishion."
It took a few seconds for the Stealth Suit to react, mostly because he was waiting for his heads-up display to translate Solon's slurred speech.
By that time Solon's left hand had already seized the battlesuit's gun arm, and yanked the Tau off his feet.
"Warsmith Solon! Wait!" Wraithstar shouted.
"No," Solon said simply. Then he crushed the smaller soldier's arm in his hand, armor and all.
Twilight and Shining Armor flinched back as the pilot screamed, and the other Stealth Suits leapt away from the Chaos Lord. Jerriha finally broke eye contact from Applejack to scowl hatefully at the Iron Warrior.
"I tire of your people'sh insholence and cowardice, Wraithshtar." Solon said simply while blue-tinted blood ran down his arm. The Stealth Suit squirmed and the pilot gasped in his grip, but its struggles didn't seem to bother the massive Chaos Lord. "I have granted your sholdiersh ashylum from the threat YOU have unleashed, and yet your Fire Warriorsh sheem intent on making me regret the decishion. Contrary to what shome might shuggesht, my patience DOESH have limitsh."
"I understand, Lord Solon!" Wraithstar shouted, his teeth clenched as he watched the Stealth Suit hang in the air in front of him. "I will discipline them as appropriate, I promise!"
"Your promishesh sho far have amounted to very little, Wraithshtar," Solon replied, "if there ish no trusht between our forcesh, perhapsh I can provide a shuitable alternative: fear."
The giant servo claw on his chassis lunged forward, closing on the Stealth Suit like the jaws of a huge predator. And with similar results.
As blood splattered across the ground, Jerriha's hand went for her sidearm. One of the other Stealth Suits brandished its fusion blaster at about the same time.
The Tau Fireblade froze still when she suddenly heard the crack of armor, followed by an agonized gasp. A second later the Stealth Suit collapsed in front of a narrow fan of blood.
"Watch the guns," Daniels said blandly, his rail rifle aimed at the other trembling battlesuits.
The ponies stared at the scene in shock as Solon dropped the mess of gore and shattered polyceramics in front of Wraithstar. Even Applejack, who hadn't flinched at all when the Stealth Suit had its arm crushed, looked disturbed.
"I don't enjoy breaking my toolsh," Solon said as Wraithstar shook angrily under his glare, "I hope we can avoid any further incidentsh shuch ash thish in the future."
The clatter of a pulse pistol hitting the ferrocrete diverted the Iron Warrior's attention, and he turned his head toward Jerriha. The Fireblade was glaring up at him, and was now completely unarmed.
"So I still rate as nothing more than a 'tool'? I didn't realize that I had merely traded one pair of shackles for another," she spat, "if that's the case, let's be done with the pretenses of alliance. I will not fight. Send me back to your mines, if you wish. I'd be lucky to die hammering rocks for ore rather than being beaten to death by savages."
"Don't think the Orksh will be the onesh to kill you, grayshkin," Solon warned before his bloodstained servo claw clamped shut menacingly.
"I wasn't referring to the Orks," Jerriha snapped back.
"Shas'vre! Be SILENT!" Wraithstar shouted.
"I will NOT. I will not bow my head and submit to one who murders my Caste-mates," the Fireblade growled, her glare still locked on Solon. The other Stealth Suits glanced at each other, and then they, too, powered down their weapons and started to strip them off. "You have handed us one humiliation and misery after another, and you expect obedience and thanks?"
Twilight gulped. "Hey, now, hold on-"
"You know, I hate to find myself in agreement with a Tau," Shining Armor interrupted, his voice hard, "but I can't condone this sort of treatment either. That soldier did something wrong, obviously, but to kill him, just like that?" The Captain had his eyes narrowed as he stared up at the hulking Iron Warrior, and Twilight's fur paled several shades. "Is that really all we are to you? Tools to be used up and discarded when you don't need us anymore?"
"Oh, now don't YOU shtart," Solon said, rounding on the stallion, "you were all preshented with a choice, and you made your decishionsh. You sherve ME now."
"Choice? What 'choice'?!" Shining demanded. "You mean 'use your shield against the Orks or you'll be using it against the Iron Warriors outside your bedroom'?"
"And here you are," Solon said blandly, "I don't shee a problem."
"Guys, please, just-" Twilight began desperately, only for her brother to cut her off again.
"So what if an Equestrian can't accept a certain order? What if I don't? What if my SISTER doesn't?" Shining demanded, his anger building. "Are you going to squash us on the spot, too?"
Solon's legs shifted to lift his chassis up higher, and his servo claw clanked open and shut again. "Do you imagine that I won't?"
The unicorn recoiled, trembling with anger. "You... You mons-"
"HEY!! STOP IT!!" Everyone nearby flinched from the sudden, magically-amplified shout.
Twilight was hovering in the air behind Shining Armor, her chest heaving and her horn aglow.
"Would you all just LISTEN to yourselves?!" Twilight shouted, beads of sweat dripping from her bangs. "There are some sixty-plus THOUSAND Orks marching toward us even as we speak! We can NOT start fighting amongst ourselves!"
Jerriha sneered. "A Fire Warrior killed by this tin man is just as dead as-" she staggered backward as a stripe of glowing purple energy slapped over her mouth, silencing her.
"NO. You do NOT get to play the victim here, Shas'vre," Twilight snapped, her eyes briefly flaring white, "YOUR people brought this threat to us to save YOUR empire. That's done and over with, and we can live with that. But ONLY if your so-called 'warrior caste' can straighten up and do their jobs!" She pointed a hoof at Daniels, who blinked in surprise. "The humans have been fighting a war that isn't theirs all this time, and have been dying by the cartload for it! Mercenary casualties against the Orks have been TEN TIMES that of Fire Warriors! And I'll bet the survivors are plenty sick and tired of hearing about the 'humiliation' of having the same boss as they do and the 'misery' of doing the same missions!"
She whirled on Shining Armor before anyone could say anything in response. "Shiny, don't misunderstand; I see the same things you do. I know that the Iron Warriors aren't good people, and that we're just tactical assets to them. They haven't corrupted me or brainwashed me or any of that. But we NEED this alliance. This isn't just about the lives of the Equestrian soldiers, or you, or me. If we fail, EVERYPONY dies. I know you understand that."
Shining Armor pursed his lips and then nodded silently.
"Warsmith-" Twilight began, whirling around in the air.
The Chaos Lord flinched, scuttling backward for a few steps and ducking down defensively.
The others stared with arched eyebrows.
"Uhm..." Twilight hesitated for a moment, feeling honestly embarrassed by the reaction. "... Please don't kill anybody on our side anymore. It's not helping."
"Okay," Solon said quickly.
Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly before she continued. "The Orks are stronger and more numerous than we had guessed, and our ONLY chance of fighting them off is to work together! For the sake of survival, I think we can at least postpone these arguments until we don't have an alien horde breathing down our necks."
Wraithstar crossed his arms and stared hard at the Stealth Suits. They only paused briefly before picking their weapons up off the ground.
Jerriha was more reluctant as she leaned over to recover her pistol, the spell holding her mouth having faded.
"Of course... until later, then," the Fireblade murmured, holstering her pulse pistol, "if nothing else, I would like to kill a few more Orks before my life ends."
"Good attitude," Applejack said with a dark grin. Jerriha scowled tightly and stalked off.
Wraithstar took a deep breath (through his respirator mask, of course) before looking up at Solon. "Warsmith, I shall conduct a review of our detachment's communications over this mission, and ensure that my troops know of the..." he trailed off distastefully as he stared at the remains of the crushed Stealth Suit. "... The severe penalties for insubordination and deceit. No further demonstrations shall be necessary, Lord."
"Good. Uh..." Solon glanced back at Twilight, then switched to Tau. *Also, don't tell anyone else about this. The parts other than me killing your soldier, I mean.*
"Of course," Wraithstar drawled. Then he gestured sharply at the other Stealth Suits. *Come! You idiots already cost me two men, and weakened this entire army with your foolishness! There may yet be time to ensure you haven't cost us the war...*
****
Jerriha drummed her fingers on a cargo crate as she fumed silently. At the far end of the sector, where the landing pads gave way to empty space for expansion, a pair of Earth Caste workers were putting together a refueling station for the Tau flyers and gunships.
An abomination. Tau technology, given over to post-human reavers. Corrupted scum that were the embodiment of everything the Greater Good opposed. Selfish. Manic. Fractured. Hateful. Destructive.
Powerful.
No matter how much she despised their ideology and corruption, her Sept had no one but themselves to blame for the Iron Warriors' victory. The 38th Company had fought harder, smarter, and better than they had.
And they continued to do so, it seemed.
"A credit for your thoughts."
Jerriha managed to keep from jumping in surprise, but just barely. Daniels walked up next to her and then hopped backward to sit on the supply crate.
"What do you want, ape?" the Fireblade growled.
"Hey, now, let's not start with the racism," Daniels chided, "I know you've worked with 'gue'la' before, so it's not like you hate ALL of us."
"True. I used to hate the ones that wore the symbol of that wretched dictatorship: that absurd two-headed bird. I didn't know there was an even worse kind until I met you and that wretched star hanging from your neck."
"You sound like you need a hug, lass."
Jerriha clenched her teeth hard enough that it started to hurt. "What. Do. You. WANT."
"Oh, nothing much," Daniels said, leaning back and kicking his feet out, "I just noticed that you didn't look terribly inspired by Princess Twilight's little speech. Wondering why, is all. I found it very appropriate."
Jerriha was already scowling as much as she could possibly scowl, so she found herself without much scope for further expressing her discontent. "I didn't much care for the part where she compared us to you. Of course you serve without question or complaint. You're mercenaries. You don't care about your cause."
"See, now, to me, what you did there is take an advantage and make it sound like a weakness," Daniels pointed out, "if you care about your cause and it makes you miserable, then you're the one with the problem, mi'right?"
The Fireblade bristled. "What's it like, human? To be so lost, so self-absorbed and desperate in your desires that THIS..." she paused to wave a hand toward an iron Chaos Star with skulls hanging from it on chains, "seems like a good idea?"
Jerriha was expecting a snarky comeback or - ideally - for the man to get annoyed and leave.
"It's like you're constantly swimming," Daniels answered, all mirth gone from his voice, "you're treading water, and all around you, for as far as the eye can see, is just more water. Ocean, stretching out forever. And you keep swimming, but you don't know if you'll ever reach land, or if land exists, or if it exists but it's actually worse than the sea, somehow." He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, and picked up the Chaos Star hanging around his neck. "Under those conditions, you'll embrace any flotsam you can get, no matter how slimy or dangerous. Anything to stay above water."
Daniels glanced over to the Fireblade, and saw that she was looking fairly stunned. "So, what's it like to be so attached to a philosophy that having to violate it for your own survival is almost worse than just keeling over and dying?"
Jerriha's senses returned to her, as did her scowl. Still... he had given her a real answer, so she felt obligated to do the same.
"It's like being on an island in that ocean," she mumbled, "a single spot of warmth, light, and hope, and all you can see around you is havoc and strife." She hung her head. "Tau'va has given us so much, and made us so strong... it is our reason for being. To have that stripped away... to be adrift, as you are... is..."
"It sucks, eh?" Daniels asked. "But you learn to live with it. Or, you know, you get cut up by xenos. One of those."
Then he suddenly slapped Jerriha on the shoulder, causing her to yelp and jump away. "But, hey! We have a shared metaphor for life, now! How's that for inter-species bonding!"
Jerriha's hand tightened around her pistol. "DON'T touch me!" she spat. "I don't want to 'bond' with you! You killed my Caste-brother!"
"I've killed several of your Caste-brothers, actually. Strangled one of them to death, even. Grisly stuff," Daniels admitted, "but that's all in the past, right?"
"You killed Herrula ten minutes ago!"
"Oh, come on, that was legit. He was about to shoot a fusion blaster at the Warsmith," Daniels protested.
Jerriha was about to retort, but stopped herself. There really was no point.
"Anyhow, you could learn a thing or two from the ponies in how they deal with us," Daniels said after deciding that the last argument was finished.
Jerriha laughed bitterly. "Is that so? What should we learn? How to properly beg for favor and serve your Astartes masters?"
"That IS what it looks like to you, I'm sure," Daniels said with a shrug, "but the truth is more complicated. The Equestrians have submitted, true, and we've changed them. Some of them, anyway. But they've changed us, too."
Jerriha was intrigued despite herself. "Really. How?"
"For starters, a month ago I would have never considered it worthwhile to listen to the complaints of an alien soldier," the mercenary pointed out, "I probably would have killed all the Stealth Suits rather than just the one that was gunning for the Warsmith, just in case they thought to turn their guns on me. And I DEFINITELY would have asked for a unit of Fire Warriors to take along on my missions as flesh-shields." He smirked as Jerriha glared. "Meeting Applejack has made me think that maybe making friends with aliens isn't all that hard or dangerous. I'm not with the Imperium anymore, so why not?"
Jerriha recoiled slightly, looking confused and somewhat repulsed. "You... want to be my... friend?"
Daniels shrugged. "Or I can scurry off to my pony friends and fellow humans and keep waiting until you give me an excuse to shoot you. I get paid the same either way. This approach seems more productive, though."
A long silence settled between the two as they watched the assembly drones install the fueling station.
"... Would I have to make friends with that orange horse, too?" Jerriha finally asked.
"No. In fact, I'd rather you didn't. Watching you twitch whenever AJ is nearby is a riot," Daniels chuckled.
Jerriha turned her head to stare at the man for several more seconds.
"If I was your friend, would you give me back my rail rifle?" she asked.
"Frag off, grayskin."
Jerriha sighed. "Worth a shot."
****
Main Ork army - the next day
Hazarr grunted irritably while he watched Lootas drag in more and more motorbikes and hurl them into the Trukks parked on the side of the path.
His boyz had gone on ahead from the bulk of the army to search for good looting opportunities and get the lay of the land. Of course, there was SUPPOSED to be scouting Biker Boyz returning to the main force who had done that, but for some reason none of them had returned yet.
As the Lootas hauled in yet ANOTHER few motorcycles for salvage, Hazarr had to consider that maybe they wouldn't be coming back at all.
"Boss! Boss Coggz!"
The Big Mek turned his head after a Loota rushed up to him happily. There was a team of Grots hauling a small metal cart behind him, and it was full of sluggas and stikkbombs. Some of them stained with dry blood.
"Wot's dis about?" Hazarr demanded, pointing to the wagon. "Ya see a lotta ded boyz out dere?"
"Oh, yea, Boss! Hunnerds of 'em! Bad lukk, I gehss." The Loota shrugged. "But nevah mind dat! Dere's sum REEL good loot ovah da hill! Sumfin we ain't seen bahfohr!"
The smaller Ork paused, his beady red eyes squinting. "It's a towah fing fulla glowy bitz, an' has good metuhl platin', an lotsa pritty wyahs! Jus' sittin' out dere, waytin' fer us!"
Hazarr frowned. "Wot'z it do?" It was a common mistake of lesser Orks, Hazarr knew, to forget that nearly all machines they looted for scrap had a useful function as they were. Some were obvious, like guns and tanks, but on occasion even more complex devices were worth more intact than the sum of their parts.
That logic, as usual, had escaped his underlings. "Er... dunno, Boss. Zimzog's takin' it apaht roight now, doh."
The explosion that came from behind the hill sent an enormous fireball into the air, briefly overwhelming the early morning sunlight. A small dark spot appeared in the air over it, and as the detonation receded a blazing Trukk slammed into the hill and then started bouncing down the side, trailing fire and scorched metal.
The Orks all stopped to watch as the vehicle eventually rolled to a stop. Some of them pointed and laughed.
"... I fink I noh wot da metuhl towahs do now, Boss," the Loota said helpfully.
Hazarr sighed and poked his subordinate in the chest with his power klaw. "Dis is why we can't haff nyss tings."
"Boss! Boss Coggz!"
The Big Mek turned around as yet ANOTHER Loota raced up to him and shouted for attention.
"Wot? If dis is about da metuhl towahs, let 'em be! Dey's traps!"
The second Loota shook his head. "Dat ain't it, Boss! I gotz wun o'da boyz wot wuz out last nite! A Nob! He wuz lost out inna woodz, he wuz!" the Loota explained.
"Well, dat's roight handy," Hazarr said, cracking his neck to one side and then the other. "Let's see wot he's got fer us."
****
"Say it agin," Drahgza demanded, glowering down at the one-armed Nob standing below him.
The Nob was exhausted, hungry, and still obviously wounded, but he stood firm as he gave his report to his Warboss. "It wuz hosses, Boss Drahgza. Hosses got da boyz."
One of the three lights on Drahgza's optics visor started to flicker in imitation of a twitching eye. "Hosses. HOSSES killed me Bikah Boyz and da uddah boyz I sent wot to bakk 'em up. Not spikies, not humies, but liddel HOSSES?!"
The Nob flinched, but he didn't relent. "Yeah. Dey ain't nahmal hosses, doh. Dey's sum kinda..." the injured Nob paused to think. "Sum kinda weerd bat-hoss. Dey has big weengs, an' shahp teef! An' dey packin' fansee dakka, too! An' dey gotz humie duds, I fink!"
Hazarr stood behind the one-armed Ork, tapping one talon of his power claw against a crate.
"But dat ain't all, Boss! Da liddel hosses had a big hoss wid 'em!"
Drahgza's powered pincer opened and closed with a heavy CLANG. "A BIG hoss. Ya don' say," the Warboss sneered.
The Nob nodded. "Dis wun was WEERD. Wit blakk ahmah an' glowin' eyes, an' flohtin' hans!" The Nob shook his head. "It shot thundah and brohk da lites, an' den killed da Deff Dread, an' den it killed me boyz. An' den..."
For the first time, the Nob hesitated, and Drahgza took a threatening step forward. "An' DEN?"
"It took off me arm. Brohk me gun. Den it tokked ta me, Boss," the Nob mumbled.
"Wot did it say?" Hazarr asked.
The Nob opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and then closed his mouth, frowning.
"... Dunno," he admitted, "da big hoss tokked all funny. Wuz goin' on loik it wuz two hosses. I fink it took a klaw to da hed or sumfin'." He shrugged. "But I fink it sed sumfin' loik we shood be 'fraid o' da dahk."
Drahgza slammed a klaw on a metal crate next to him, and it crumpled like it was made of paper. "We'z da Orks!" he shouted. "An' Orks ain't 'fraid o' NUFFIN'!"
The Nob nodded quickly. "Dat's roight, Boss. Ya wanna krump da hosses, den?"
Drahgza looked like he was going to roar an agreement, but then the hulking Ork hesitated as the gears in his head started creaking.
He turned to Hazarr. "Dese bat-hosses. Dey da saym wuns youz wuz tellin' me 'bout?"
Hazarr shook his head. "Naw. I ain't seen no bat-hosses. But me boyz wuzn't out at nite."
Drahgza thought some more.
After almost five minutes, he started chuckling.
"Dese gitz fink dey reel clevah," the Warboss said between snorting laughs, "I send boyz doorin' da day, dey git shot up by humies an' essploded by trapz. I send boyz durin' da nite, an' dey git stomped by weerd nite hosses. Dey's pikkin' off me boyz bit by bit, tryin' ta scayr us."
He laughed, stomping past the other Orks and pointing out into the distance. "But we don' NEED no scowtz. We noh 'zactly weah we'z goin'. To da humie fort!"
Hazarr pointed his power klaw in a different direction. "Da humie fort's dat way."
"WOTEVAH!!" Drahgza roared. "Da poynt is, we'z keepin' all da boyz tahgethah from heah on! No mo' Bikahs, no mo' nite runz! If'n da humies or da hosses wanna mess wit us, dey mess wit ALL o'us! WAAAAAGH!!"
The classic Ork warcry was echoed by every warrior nearby, and then picked up by the Orks further away and repeated further. The bloodthirsty scream moved through the army like a wave, building in intensity and fervor. Boyz started shooting their guns into the air, and Squiggoths stomped their feet in angry sympathy. The three Gargants blasted their warhorns and shot rokkits into the sky, and the very air reverberated with bloodlust and fury.
"We'z movin' on, boyz! An' NUFFIN is gonna stop us now!"
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 17 Command Center
Luna suppressed a yawn while she entered the central complex of the command center, walking through the busy hallway to the strategium.
She was weary, and she was certain her appearance betrayed as much. Her daemon armor, formidable as it was, was pitted, scored, and scarred from a night of constant battle. One of her wing sheaths had even been cracked open from a Biker ramming into her, although it hadn't been enough to harm the wing underneath.
The damage would heal over the day, as she slept, as if it were flesh. None of it required extra attention from Solon or the Warpsmiths. Still, it was far and away much more harm than she had sustained in her previous encounters.
Proud as she was of the blows she'd inflicted, she was also mindful of the truth of the words she'd heard from the Nob that she'd released back to his army. There were still far too many of the aliens left marching toward their lands. How many greenskins had been slain by the time morning broke? A hundred? Three, four hundred, maybe? From an army that counted its numbers in the tens of thousands. A glass of water taken from a lake. And another OCEAN of barbarians racing toward them through the Empyrean.
"Curse the Tau," the alicorn spat. As far as Luna was concerned, the Fire Warriors had a great deal more fighting and dying to do before they could begin to atone for the destruction they had unleashed upon her planet.
But then, there was plenty of fighting and dying ahead for ALL of them.
"We hast arrived!" Luna proclaimed as the doors to the strategium slid open for her. The shout was more for her own benefit than the tacticians inside. She had to keep her mind focused until she was released to her bed again.
Solon, Sliver, and Serith made up the usual group of Iron Warrior commanders overseeing these meetings. General Gnoss stood opposite them, also as usual. However, she was not expecting to see Twilight Sparkle, much less Shining Armor, flanking the General.
"Princesh Luna, welcome," Solon greeted the dark alicorn, "and how fared your mission lasht night?"
Luna debated retracting her helmet, but then glanced at Sliver and thought better of it. She could tolerate Solon's stench, but the odor of the Company's Vice-Commander was of a magnitude greater than his master. Twilight also had her armor and helmet on, she noticed.
"It fared very well, Warsmith," Luna said, dipping her head toward the Chaos Lord respectfully, "We hast scoured the plains and hills of the greenskins that dared leave the safety of their main force. The sensor stations proved most useful in this endeavor."
"Excellent," Solon said, "cashualtiesh?"
Luna pursed her lips. "Low. Relatively." She shook her head. "Our Lunar Guard struck the enemy with great vigor and ferocity, and few were injured during each sortie as the ground became littered with Orkish dead. Yet..." she sighed. "The foe is so numerous, despite our efforts, and the engagements were many. The casualties reached an uncomfortable sum by morning's light. Our thestral soldiers numbered but one hundred and twenty that were prepared to face the greenskins. That tally is much reduced now."
"Did any of them die?" Gnoss asked suddenly.
Luna blinked behind her helmet. "Pardon?"
"The casualties. Were they all non-fatal injuries?" the pirate officer pressed.
The dark alicorn thought about the question for a few seconds. "... Now that thou mentions it... We do not recall any fatalities in particular, nay. T'were many injuries to wings and shattered bones, mostly."
Twilight leaned over to her brother. "Told you."
"That's weird," Shining mumbled back, "great, but WEIRD." General Gnoss nodded in agreement.
"Enough," Sliver hissed, "there iss much to be disscusssed."
The befouled Chaos Lord seemed extra irritable somehow, Luna decided. The single lens of his visor was focused intently on the hololith display, and she could hear muted mumbling coming from his helmet.
"What hath we discovered of the foe?" Luna asked, looking over the hololith. It didn't make much sense to her, being a set of bright green rings, grids, and red spots.
"A lot. All of it useful and most of it quite frustrating," Gnoss explained with a shake of his head, "our initial estimates of the enemy's size was too small."
"Surprise, surprise," Serith sighed.
The General nodded absently. "We're looking at a number of ground troops somewhere in the realm of 80,000 soldiers."
A startled whinny escaped Shining Armor before he could stop it.
Luna was quite incredulous, but at least she was able to hide her expression under her helmet. "Thy initial guess was in deficit of twenty THOUSAND troops?"
"Well, that's total fleet strength. Some ten thousand or so have been left on their ships, which are still holding orbit opposite our own fleet around the planet," Gnoss explained, "but... well... yes. These things happen."
"They happen a lot when fighting greenshkinsh," Solon noted, "on the other hand, thish fleet containsh a prodigoush amount of light infantry. The ratio of troopsh to armored vehiclesh ish much higher than ushual."
"In other words, they don't have nearly as many tanks or transports as an army their size should," Gnoss explained, "the looting and salvage must have been poor for them recently."
"Thish putsh them at a dishadvantage in shome waysh, but obvioushly we shtill have a lot more targetsh than we'd like," said Solon.
Luna nodded. "We understand. Then what shalt we do?"
The others all looked at Sliver. Sliver released a growl.
"Tell me, Princesss... have you or any of your fellow witchess ssome trickery that can deal with the likess of THISS?"
Sliver's visor glowed briefly, and then Luna watched as a fat, silly-looking walker of some sort appeared on the hololith table.
She had to stop herself from giggling at the sight of the thing. "And what be this, Lord Sliver?"
"Thiss iss a Gargant. A 'Mega Gargant,' sspecifically," the Chaos Lord hissed.
"And this ludicrous contraption thinks to challenge the Warsmith's machines?" the Lunar Princess asked, laughing openly at the thought. "What threat doth this crude toy pose to thy fortress?"
Gnoss tapped a screen on the table's control panel. "Here, let me add an equine soldier next to it for scale. That should help you understand what we're looking at."
Luna continued staring at the hololithic Gargant. Then she tilted her head to one side of the image, and then the other.
"We do not see the pony," she confessed.
"Yes, that's about right," Gnoss replied.
Luna blinked. "Oh." Then her eyes widened. "OH." Then she cringed. "Oh..."
"And there are THREE of those things?" Twilight asked anxiously.
"THREE?!" Luna yelped. "Preposterous! Even for an army of this scale, how can such war machines exist?!"
"Orksh are annoying like that," Solon admitted, "the other two are Great Gargantsh, a shlightly shmaller variant, but any one of them poshesh a sherioush threat to thish fortresh. Combined, and properly shupported, Ferroush Dominush cannot shtop them."
"Well, your people fight Orks all the time, right? Including these 'Gargants'?" Shining Armor asked.
"That ish true, yesh," Solon confirmed.
"So how do you usually deal with something like that?" the Guard Captain asked.
"With Titansh," Solon said.
"So, how many Titans dost thee possess?" Luna asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Zero," Solon sighed.
The group fell silent, staring at the hololithic behemoth.
"Well, there ARE waysh to deshtroy Titansh without another Titan," Solon finally pointed out.
"True. But the pressence of an enemy army running in ssupport makes them problematic at besst," Sliver hissed, "sstill... moving on."
With a wave of his hand, the Gargant was replaced by a topographic map of the region, with a big red patch marking out the enemy army.
"The only explicitly good news we have is that the Orks seem to have reacted as we'd hoped to our initial strikes to kill off their scouts. When our listening posts detected that the army started moving again, it did so as a single, giant mass, and did not deploy more forward scouting units. Whatever strategy we use against them, they won't see coming," General Gnoss explained while he started putting more data into the hololith table.
"Okay... but what strategy could possibly break an army of that size, with weapons that powerful?" Shining Armor asked.
Serith chuckled. "We have many tools of war at our disposal, Lord Armor."
"I know that," the stallion grumbled, "I'm apparently one of them. But something tells me that if there were any easy solutions to winning this battle, you would have brought it up by now."
"Okay, here's the Ork army's projected route to the fortress," General Gnoss said as a series of red arrows marked the army's path over the land. The route took it into a mountain valley, and then curved southward sharply to enter the badlands and the fortification that lay within it.
Twilight's brow creased. "Hold on. There." She pointed a hoof at the valley. "Magnify."
The hololith zoomed in on the spot, and she and Shining Armor gasped.
"The Orks are going to go straight through Ponyville!" the alicorn shouted in distress.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Sso what?" Sliver asked.
"All those innocent ponies!" Shining Armor growled, shedding a tear then and there at the mere thought of such carnage.
"The fiends!" Luna groused.
The sapiens remained unimpressed.
"Can't you just evacuate them?" General Gnoss asked.
"Well, yeah, of course we will," Shining admitted. "But, you know, it's still sad. Their homes and livelihoods will be pretty much wiped out, right?"
"Sspare uss your ssimpering, pssyker," Sliver snapped, causing Twilight to cringe at the amount of phlegm that sentence seemed to be pushing through, "if you have nothing usseful to add, then be SSILENT."
Serith sighed. "It will have to be there, after all."
Solon and Sliver turned their helmets toward the Sorcerer.
"Shay what?" asked the Warsmith.
"The Orks. Their advance is projected to reach the village in three days, thanks to ease of travel across the plains and valley. The terrain up to Ferrous Dominus is not so forgiving. Four days, perhaps five. Unacceptable." He pointed a finger toward Ponyville. "We will conduct our battle here."
"Why'sh that, exactly?" Solon asked. Twilight and Shining looked stunned. Neither had seriously considered the prospect of facing the enemy horde in Ponyville rather than the reinforced and heavily defended walls of Ferrous Dominus.
"There simply isn't time," Serith sighed, "this has taken too long already, and if this army should delay its own destruction much longer then we are sure to have the bulk of the greenskin fleet upon us. Three days until contact. The alien must then be slain, and offered up to the Gods. On the fourth day I shall establish the Nethalican."
Shining Armor raised an eyebrow. "Are you... sure about this? That's a pretty unforgiving timetable."
"Call it a... witch's intuition," Serith said.
General Gnoss did not look convinced. "But how can it be done, my Lord? At least Ferrous Dominus poses SOME great obstacle, some chance to resist. A lucky macro-cannon shot can cripple a Gargant, and even the Orks' heaviest weapons will need time to tear down these walls... but a village? With nothing but wood and sandbags to protect our forces, how are we to defeat the army, much less stop their Gargants?"
Luna chewed her lip anxiously. "The General doth make a sound argument. Defending the fortress seems an unlikely task. Defending Ponyville seems impossible."
"It can work," Sliver mumbled.
Everybody was fairly surprised to hear Sliver speak in favor of the obviously stupid option.
"My Lord?" Gnoss asked hesitantly.
"The xeno army. Look at it," Sliver demanded, pointing to the cluster of red icons. "It marchess with no formation. Heavy armor travelss near the fuel transsportss. Light transsportss travel at the front. Artillery iss on the flankss. The Gargantss are sstrung out throughout the army. Crowdss of infantry everywhere, preventing the eassy mobilization of their vehicless. Thiss iss not a force ready for battle."
"True, but they are days away from any Equestrian settlements," Gnoss pointed out, "plenty of time for them to form up properly before reaching combat."
"Without a sscouting force, they will ssee neither the ssettlementss, or our forcess waiting for them. They are not expecting an attack. By the time they realize that they have sstumbled upon the enemy, we will rain death upon them. The valley will prove an adequate choke point, preventing them from encircling uss. Victory iss posssible."
Sliver paused. "Asssuming, of coursse, the Gargantss can be dealt with."
"Leave the Gargantsh to me," Solon said, pounding a fist against his breastplate, "I'll come up with shomething."
"Very encouraging," Sliver grumbled. Then he turned to Shining Armor, and the stallion recoiled. He still wasn't used to being around Iron Warriors in general, and Sliver was easily the most hideous and repulsive of the Chaos Marines he had met.
"You will provide protection. We will need every tactical advantage to overcome the Orkss."
Shining winced. "I have a spell I've been working on... rather than a dome, it creates a giant shield wall. A one-way barrier, so that troops from our side can shoot through it while the enemy can't." Then he shook his head. "But it can't possibly stand up to an army. I can probably keep it up for a few minutes, but as soon as any serious firepower hits it, the feedback will just be too much."
"Feedback, hm? That is the primary impediment?" Serith asked.
Shining gave him an uncertain look. "... Yes. Holding a barrier means stopping all the energy applied against it, which tries to undo the barrier. It becomes more difficult with more force."
"And in the case of very powerful weapons, it starts to hurt," Twilight added, "holding back pulse rifle fusillades in particular is very painful. The shock of holding back large ordnance can collapse a shield instantly, and could even knock out the pony projecting it."
"Not a problem. I can fix this weakness," Serith said, nodding his head to Sliver.
"You... You can?" Shining said incredulously.
"Good. Do it," Sliver snapped, "I disslike relying on your pssyker trickss, Ssorcerer, but all of thiss iss in aid of your damnable portal. Do NOT fail me."
Serith bowed, chuckling as usual. "Of course, Lord. I even have a little gift for you that should aid in this undertaking, if you would have it."
A wet snort preceded Sliver's reply. "I can't wait," he hissed.
"So we have three days to prepare, a shield, a disorganized foe, the element of surprise, and we're presuming that the Gargants will be destroyed before they see battle," General Gnoss mused, crossing his arms over his chest, "this is starting to look possible."
"What about the weather?" Twilight asked. "Would it help if there was some bad rain that day?"
"It would hinder the Orks slightly more than us, I suppose. They'd have to march through the mud while we'd be sitting in it," Gnoss reasoned.
"No, I mean, what if there was a rainstorm JUST over the valley?" Twilight clarified. "Maybe some lightning, too?"
The Iron Warriors stared.
"A rainshtorm that shomehow limitsh itshelf to the shpecific area our foesh are, without touching our forcesh?" Solon asked. "That would be a big help, actually. Ish that shome pshyker trick?"
"No, not at all. We'll just have the weather teams set it up," Shining said.
"The what, now?" Gnoss asked.
"The weather teams," Luna explained, "they refer to the pegasi that hath control of the weather conditions across Equestria."
The Iron Warriors were still staring. "... You, uh... didn't know about them?" Twilight asked, trying to recall if she'd ever brought the topic up previously.
"You control the bleeding WEATHER?!" General Gnoss shouted, slamming his hands onto the hololith table. "Why the hell haven't I heard about this before? That would have been pretty damn helpful some sixteen battles or so ago!"
The pony siblings shared a look. "We thought you knew!" Shining insisted. "I mean, what, does nobody control the weather at all on other planets?"
"Correct. Jusht like the sholar and Lunar cyclesh," Solon said, giving a meaningful glance at Luna. "On mosht worldsh the atmoshpheric and ashtrophyshical conditionsh of the planet do not rely on intervention from the inhabitantsh."
"... Oh... Well... on this planet, we have a weather factory instead," Shining said with a nervous smile and a shrug.
"Thiss iss officially too ridiculouss for me," Sliver grunted as he turned away from the table, "I shall work on our planss for the engagement." Without waiting to be dismissed, he stomped toward the exit.
"Very good. I should come up with that plan to defeat the Gargantsh," Solon mumbled as he too moved to leave.
"Warsmith! Allow us to destroy them!" Luna shouted, causing Solon to halt and swivel his torso around. "We hast dismantled the Orks' machines of war many times! These abominations shalt be no different!"
"It ish different, I'm afraid," Solon admitted, "Gargantsh are shimply not in the shame league ash their other heavy combat armor."
"We shalt force entry and slay the crew!" the dark alicorn declared. "Will this strategy not work?"
"If you can GET to the Gargant in the firsht place, yesh," Solon admitted, "there'sh quite an army in the way, though." Then he tilted his helmet to the side, his optics cluster rotating. "But then, you can teleport. Hmmm..."
The ponies waited anxiously as Solon paused. Luna herself was almost trembling.
"... You're probably good for one Gargant," Solon decided, "jusht one, though. We don't want to overdo it. And no eclipshesh thish time! We need the light for our defenshive linesh!"
"Huzzah!" the Princess of the Night cheered, raising the Iron Gage from her shoulders and clapping the massive gauntlets together. "The greenskins shalt rue the day they thought to oppose us! We shalt not fail thee, Father!"
That sentence startled quite a few individuals in the room, and Solon paused.
"... Shay that lasht thing again?" the Warsmith asked.
"We shalt not fail thee, Warsmith!" Luna repeated, holding her head up straighter before she shifted the Iron Gage into a salute. "We go now to our daily rest! Princess Sparkle, if any further matters require our attention, do not hesitate to alert us!"
"Okay... sure," Twilight mumbled, her eyebrow arched as Luna turned away and trotted out of the room.
"Shometimesh I worry about that mare," Solon mumbled after the doors shut behind the Lunar Princess.
"That probably contributes to her subconscious perception of you as a father figure," Twilight pointed out.
"I think it's kind of cute," Shining Armor said with a smirk, "slightly disturbing and depressing in its implications, but still, cute."
"Speaking of disturbing and depressing matters," Serith said, pointing to Shining Armor, "come with me."
The unicorn winced, but he didn't hesitate to follow the Sorcerer. They both headed toward the same exit Luna had used.
Twilight removed her helmet just so she could be sure that her glare at Serith's back was unobstructed. "You're not allowed to hurt him, Serith!" she growled.
"Unlesh doing sho providesh ush with a key tactical advantage," Solon amended.
Twilight shifted her glare to the larger Iron Warrior.
"What? He doeshn't work for me, why should I care?" the Warsmith asked.
A frustrated groan came from Twilight after the door shifted close behind her brother. She had no reason to think that Serith would hurt Shining Armor or even allow him to come to harm; his instruction of the other unicorns hadn't caused any casualties so far, and she had checked frequently to make sure. Still, mistrust of the Sorcerer was a reflex by now, and her fur bristled at the thought of him "instructing" members of her family.
Eventually Twilight sighed and looked up at Solon again. She was slightly surprised and nonplussed to see that the mechanized Chaos Lord was staring down at her.
"Hmmm..." Solon hummed.
"Er, is there something wrong?" Twilight asked, shifting back a step.
"No. No, there ishn't," Solon replied, "jusht conshidering my optionsh, ish all." He paused again. "Didn't you shay that Fluttershy hash shome kind of unique rapport with the daemon enginesh?"
Twilight blinked. "Yes, she does. I don't really understand it well, but they seem unusually... calm and obedient in her presence. Why?"
"Intereshting," Solon mumbled before he swiveled around, preparing to leave.
"Speaking of Fluttershy!" Twilight said loudly, causing the Warsmith to stop. "I haven't seen her since yesterday. I was surprised to see that she volunteered to help dispatch the enemy scouts, but now I'm worried."
"Rainbow Dash hash not returned either," Solon said blithely, "nor hash Tellish."
Twilight's eyes widened. "You don't think that they were-"
"Dishtracted from their mishion shuch that they completely forgot what they were doing?" Solon said as he started heading out again. "Yesh. I believe that ish exactly what happened."
****
???
"Wait, seriously? You're being serious right now?" Tellis asked while he and Rainbow Dash sat next to a campfire. "Our helmets seriously have DIRGE PLAYERS equipped?"
"Yeah. You didn't know?" Rainbow Dash snickered.
"GAH!" Tellis punched the ground, smashing an unlucky rock into gravel. "I can't believe it! This makes me so MAD!!"
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"
"Because I've been wasting all these thousands of years fighting and killing," the Raptor Lord huffed, "when I could have been fighting and killing with awesome theme music!" He slapped both gauntlets against the face of his helmet. "This is worse than when I found out that Necrons and daemons don't really die after I kill them! Augh!"
Rainbow Dash continued snickering as the Iron Warrior moaned, and eventually she turned her head toward the fire.
Said fire was situated on the wing of a crashed dakka jet, with several large branches thrown on top to keep it burning. Fluttershy was on the other side of the shredded aircraft, surrounded by woodland creatures as usual. Apparently she was having a very engaging - and almost silent - conversation with a boar that kept pacing in front of her.
Rainbow Dash turned back to Tellis. "Wait. You've been fighting for THOUSANDS of years?"
Tellis sighed, hanging his head. "Yeah. Four thousand, give or take a century. Why?"
"... How long do you guys live?" the cyan pony asked skeptically.
"Nobody knows. I'm pretty sure none of us ever dies of natural causes," Tellis shrugged.
"Huh. I didn't know you were such a geezer," Rainbow chuckled.
Tellis stared at her.
"You know, 'cause you're really old? Eh? I'm pretty sure you could be Celestia's dad, at your age! Eh?" the pegasus winked and bumped Tellis with her wing sheath, banging the armor plates together.
Tellis stared for several seconds longer before he offered up a reply. "Part of being immune to aging is not adapting the same kind of hang-ups about it that you mortal creatures do."
"Tch! Too bad. I had some pretty good nursing home jokes," Rainbow grumbled, "well, I guess I can always fall back on the Veggie God if I run out of material."
"That's not very loving and tolerant of you," Tellis warned, crossing his arms under his skull chain.
"Aww, did da widdle pony huwt your iddy biddy feewings?" Rainbow asked, her lower lip trembling and her eyes getting big and watery. "I'm so sowwy! Does da big shiny baby wanna hug?"
"Only if da widdle pony wants to limp all the way home," Tellis answered, leaning toward the grinning pegasus.
"Uhm, excuse me..."
The interruption had barely been loud enough to rise above the crackle of the fire, but both Tellis and Rainbow Dash had learned to pick up Fluttershy's mumbling above the background noise.
"Wassup, Shy? More greenies?" Tellis asked eagerly, standing up.
"Oh, uhm, sort of," Fluttershy said, anxiously scraping one armored foreleg against the other as she looked away from the Iron Warrior, "the animals have been telling me that the Orks are traveling past the forest. They've been shooting at everything they see, and it's been driving most of the woodland creatures deeper inside."
"Okay, so?" asked the Iron Warrior.
Fluttershy tilted her head to the side. "Er... don't you want to go after the Orks, Mister Murderer?"
"Nah," Tellis replied, planting his hands on his hips as he turned toward the general direction of the enemy. "If they're moving the main army together like the relay scans say they are, then that means there are THOUSANDS of Orks marching out there. I can't fight a horde that size on my own! It would take all day!"
"Should we head home, then?" Rainbow Dash asked. "I was supposed to hit up one of the DarkMech guys and get out of here, but I doubt they're still..."
Rainbow trailed off as all three of them started getting an incoming system alert via their vox systems. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were aware of small yellow lights flashing on their gorgets, and they both engaged their helmets in order to see their heads-up displays.
"Huh. We have a mission, now, I guess," Tellis said, for once having absolutely nothing better to do than pay attention to his orders, "let's see... defend Ponyville from the Ork horde. Huh."
Rainbow Dash straightened immediately. "Say what? Ponyville is under attack?"
"Eventually. The greenskins have a long walk ahead of them," Tellis mumbled, "that sounds like a bad idea, though, fighting off the army in Ponyville. A really bad idea. I'm surprised I didn't think of it first, really."
Rainbow scoffed. "Well, Ponyville is kind of important. The plan isn't THAT dumb."
"Uhm, according to this, I'm supposed to destroy a Great Gargant," Fluttershy interrupted, "what's a Great Gargant?"
"It's the punch line to that HILARIOUS joke that Command just sent you," Tellis snickered, "seriously, there's stupid, and then there's laugh-out-loud retarded. You can't fight a Great Gargant, Shy."
"Well, that's what Mister Solon sent me," the meek pony insisted, "do you think he made a mistake?"
"I think he blew a head gasket, is what I think. Suicide missions usually aren't his style."
Then Rainbow Dash piped up. "So, apparently, MY mission is to take out a Mega Gargant with Twi, AJ, and Rarity. Nifty!"
Tellis generally wasn't given to expressions of exasperation, but he couldn't help but slam a palm over his helmet at this point. "Did you guys piss him off or something? Seriously, this is BAD."
"Oh, dear. Are these Gargant things scary?" Fluttershy asked, ducking her head.
"A little, yeah," Rainbow admitted, "I mean, all Ork weapons are kind of hard to take seriously, but as far as size and firepower go, they're a big deal."
"This is stupid. This is SO stupid," Tellis groaned. "It's so stupid that even I think it can't work! That doesn't usually happen!"
"Oh well, time to go save the world. Again." Rainbow Dash said, her flight pack spreading as she jumped off the ground. "You guys coming?"
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 5, Temple of Nurgle
Sliver knelt before the putrescent shrine at the center of the temple, his hammer on the floor at his side. Rotting carcasses adorned the interior of the building, nailed up onto the walls and hung by chains. The constant drone of swarms of flies drowned out all other background noise in the complex. Small trenches cut into the flooring allowed thin streams of vile, tainted fluids to run through the interior. The entire structure was given over to rot and filth, and it was enormously soothing to the Nurgle worshiper.
But on this occasion such surroundings could not put Sliver's mind at ease. Rather than murmuring prayers or simply meditating within the miasma, Sliver was fervently going over battle plans and defensive formations in his head, trying to concoct some workable formula for the days of fortification ahead.
That was hardly the only thing on his mind, though. Sliver had largely stopped protesting Serith's mad plan and Solon's moronic coddling of the planet's natives, but that didn't mean he was content with this foolishness. Even now, with the new Warp engines almost complete, he would have been all too happy to abandon the world and the crippled ships to the Orks entirely. Let the planet, and its damnable horses, be trampled and burned by the alien! He had an army to protect and a much grander war to conduct!
"And so the cycle comes to a close, and so another begins. One man dead, a million insects and microbes born within the womb of disease."
Sliver didn't respond initially to the passage. It was a familiar one to him, and there were other worshipers in the temple besides him. He ignored the prayer.
"Praise Nurgle, father of us all! Protector and nurturer, such that we may find common lot with the plague, the parasite, the chittering daemon! All are our brothers in pestilence!"
Okay, wait, that was weird. The verses were coming from a vox grille, but the voices were female. The only females that wore power armor within the 38th Company were the Dark Techpriests and...
"And said the prophet Deriphode: 'Let the end times come! Let bloodshed and ruin stretch from one end of this galaxy to the other! For with every foe struck down in the name of Khorne, with every body fatally exhausted by the attentions of Slaanesh, another colony of Nurgle is born!'"
The sound of their approach was unmistakable; the sharp, rapid sound of a quadruped in power armor was quite distinctive from the heavier gait of hominids.
Sliver stood up, his gauntlet closing tight around his hammer. "You dare mock me, equiness?" he snarled, whirling around.
The voice continued its prayer. "So said the prophet: 'One cannot escape entropy. One must BECOME entropy.'"
Sliver's angry tirade died on his lips, and his initial surge to violence faltered. There was, indeed, a power-armored mare in the shrine. Three of them, in fact. But they were obviously not the ponies he was familiar with.
A unicorn, pegasus, and an earth pony stood before Sliver, clad in power armor that couldn't have been completed more than a few days ago. The armor suits had more complex helmets, with hinged jaw assemblies, than the other Centaur pattern suits so far, and the earth and pegasus ponies had small boltguns mounted on their right foreleg platings. The unicorn had a full-size bolter mag-locked to her side, presumably able to fire it without such a mechanism.
What gave Sliver pause, however, was the cutie marks, which had (he assumed) been branded onto one shoulder pad as normal. The unicorn's was a biohazard symbol. The pegasus had three skulls arranged in a triangle. And the earth pony, who seemed to be attracting the local insect swarms as if she was dipped in honey, had three flies arranged in the same familiar pattern. All three marks were clearly permutations of the Mark of Nurgle.
"I... uh..." Sliver was not usually one to find himself at a loss for words, but he really had no idea what to make of this encounter. "Thiss... iss... what?"
It didn't help things at all when the three ponies bowed deeply, folding their forelegs and pressing their vox grilles to the unwashed floor.
"We were told we'd know you when we saw you, Lord Sliver," the unicorn said, her vox-echo carrying a distinct Trottingham accent, "Lord Serith was quite right."
Serith. Okay, that answered SOME questions. Not nearly enough that he felt remotely comfortable with this, but at least he had someone to blame, now.
"... What... Who are you?" Sliver asked, finally.
The equines lifted their heads, and then their helmets hissed sharply as the pressurization seals disengaged.
"Oh, wow. It is RIPE in here," the pegasus said after her helmet folded away, allowing her a whiff of the unfiltered air within the temple. Far from being repulsed, she started to inhale even deeper, savoring the smell.
"Please, allow us to introduce ourselves," said the unicorn with the accent after she levitated her helmet off. She had bright green fur and a dark green mane that fell on one side of her face now that her helmet was off. "My name is Poison Kiss."
"I'm Rot Blossom," said the earth pony, her voice rather scratchy and breathless. She seemed to have the opposite color palette of Poison Kiss, with a dark, seaweed-green coat and a big, bushy green mane that hid her eyes.
"And I'm Breezy Blight!" the pegasus chirped. Her coat was a simple granite gray, with a much darker shade for her mane color that was almost black.
None of the three looked particularly diseased, but Sliver knew that didn't mean much; Nurgle's afflictions didn't all cause obvious deformities, and these mares were obviously new to the cult. The fact that they were looking at the inside of a Temple of Nurgle with wonder and excitement rather than horror and revulsion was adequate proof on its own that their allegiance was genuine.
Still.
"Why..." the Chaos Lord had to pause and think, because there were a lot of questions he had right now that started with that word. "... Why do you exist?"
The mares shared a glance, smirking.
"A fun little book called the Contagion Apocrypha," giggled Kiss, "you know how it starts, Lord: the thirst for knowledge, the fascination with the grotesque and bizarre..."
"And then you find a big, super-sketchy magic book and crack it open, damning your soul forever. It happens," Blossom interjected.
"There was some weird, disembodied mumbling at first, and then a whole lot of flies started crawling out from between the pages," Breezy explained, "after that things got a little fuzzy because of all the panic and the intense, sudden fever. But when we woke up we could remember the contents of the book! We all felt much better by then, and our cutie marks had even changed!" She chuckled. "Talk about a plot twist!"
Sliver continued to gawk at the three ponies. "... And you changed your namess, too?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, those were our names before," Blossom noted.
"High school was a pretty tough time for us," Kiss remarked with a wince, "nonetheless, Lord, we have been armed by Warsmith Solon and... 'instructed' by High Sorcerer Serith since our recent conversion. And now we are to serve you."
Once again the three equines bowed to him.
By this time Sliver at least understood what was going on, even if he had barely begun to sort out his feelings about it. "Risse, xenoss," he commanded. The mares straightened immediately. "You are to sserve in the coming battless, then?"
"I imagine that was the Warsmith's intention when giving us this armor," Kiss mused as she levitated her helmet up and stared into the visor.
"And you are a pssyker," Sliver grumbled at Poison Kiss in particular.
"I am, Lord. Quite talented for my age, or so my magic tutor said," Kiss said, putting down the helmet, "as did Lord Serith. Is my being a unicorn a... problem?"
Sliver didn't answer right away, his hands resting on the pommel of his hammer.
"... Not as ssuch, no," he said finally, "I have no great resspect for ssorcery, but I will not dissmisss itss ussess."
Breezy snickered. "Need a tissue, buddy?"
Sliver's gaze snapped toward her immediately, and the pegasus felt a chill crawl down her spine.
"Erm, I meant... LORD buddy?" she amended, smiling nervously.
A wet snort came from the Chaos Lord's vox grille, and he shifted his attention back to Kiss. "I musst admit, the prosspect of a Nurgle Ssorcerer within the rankss intriguess me. None of the pssykerss we currently command accept Nurgle'ss embrace. We have no plague witchess among our rankss."
Poison Kiss smiled, and her horn started to glow a bleak yellow color. "I am pleased to be the first then, my Lord." A rectangular case attached to the side of her armor unlocked and opened up, revealing a large, leather-bound book that looked like it was on the verge of falling apart. The book floated up above her, lifted by the aura of her magic.
"Lord Serith was so happy that we let him experiment on us that he let me borrow the Contagion Apocrypha for a bit longer." The green unicorn giggled. "I hope that the Orks enjoy it as much as we did... but I doubt it."
Sliver plucked the tome out of the air, giving a brief look at the cover. It had several overlapping, crumbling rings cut into the leather, situated in such a way that it formed a triangle with a series of Chaos Stars. Interesting, but strange and macabre books were hardly his forte.
He looked back to the ponies. "To sserve me iss a privilege, equiness. One normally granted exclussively to the Iron Warriorss of the Company. I do not ssuffer incompetence and foolishnesss as the Warssmith doess, nor do I share Sserith'ss fasscination with your kind. You will earn your place under my command with the blood of Orkss, or you can sspend the resst of your sservice at the temple replacing corpsse hangingss."
The mares' happy expressions turned more serious, and they held their heads high.
"Absolutely, Lord. We would expect nothing less," Kiss insisted.
"Not that doing the decor around here would be that bad," Breezy said, glancing about, "some of these rotting bodies have very questionable feng shui."
Blossom cleared her throat loudly. "But we intend to," she paused again to clear her throat, "prove ourselves to," she halted again, making a gagging noise, and the other mares turned toward her in concern. "Hugh! Gluk! HURK!"
A wet slapping noise echoed through the temple as the infected earth pony vomited a slimy mass onto Sliver's greaves. The other two ponies gaped with wide eyes, while Rot Blossom took several deep, gasping breaths now that her throat was clear again.
Sliver looked down at the wriggling mass practically glued to his leg plating. It was a brown worm about the size of a human finger, boasting distinctive, bright yellow spots.
Blossom paled as soon as she realized what she'd done. "Lord Sliver, I am SO sorry! Really! I didn't know, er, I mean, I should have-"
"Iss that a Nithonian brain worm?" Sliver asked, interrupting her panicked babbling.
Rot Blossom hesitated, her ears pinning down. "I think it's actually from... Kossan? Yes, I'm sure Serith said Kossan."
"Do you need it back?" Sliver asked, still staring down at the loathsome parasite.
"Uh... no, there are a few more in me, I think," Blossom admitted cautiously.
"Then you are dissmisssed," Sliver grunted, tossing the book back toward Kiss and then using that hand to peel the brain worm off of his greaves, "complete your prayerss to Father Nurgle. Tomorrow I will contact you and we will disscusss your role in the coming battle."
"Yes, Lord Sliver! Thank you!" Poison Kiss blurted out.
The Chaos Lord said nothing further, turning to head out of the temple with the worm still wriggling between the massive fingers of his gauntlet.
It would be too much, certainly, to say that his opinion of ponykind had been changed because a handful of them had converted to a respectable faith. The vast majority of them still were still primitive, simple buffoons who thought weather and daylight only existed because their society provided it. Idiots following their absurd, weakling Princess who needed to enlist pirates and fell Sorcerers to protect her kingdom.
But maybe not ALL of them were so useless.
"You're going sstraight into the collection," Sliver mumbled to himself, staring at the worm writhing in his metal palm.