Friendship is Sanctioned

by thirdstring_overlord

Chapter 2

FRIENDSHIP IS SANCTIONED

by Blue Legend/Thirdstring Overlord

-----

CHAPTER TWO

Herald of Terra
Zephyr-class scout vessel

I'll never get used to Warp travel, Tybalt Macer thought as he stared up at the rusty ceiling. With the exception of Chaplain Bardrik, the rest of the team seemed to put up with it fine. Then again, Space Marines weren't known for being expressive.

His train of thought was derailed when someone knocked on the door to his quarters. He couldn't remember the last time any of the Marines had knocked before entering, so that left Inquisitor Valesius.

“Come in, inquisitor.” Macer called. The heavy metal hatch squealed open, and the inquisitor strode in.

“Good morning. How have you fared?” said Valesius.

“Well enough,” Macer said cautiously. He had the strange feeling he was about to ask for a favor.

"May I ask you a favor?"

He mentally sighed. "Of course, inquisitor."

“I'm almost finished preparing the final briefing. The ship's vox system is offline, so I need you to gather the team. All mission personnel must be in the meeting room by 0900 hours.” Macer wanted to come up with an excuse not to, but he noticed that Valesius was faintly smiling. He only wore that expression when he expected total compliance. Given his position, this happened often.

“I will do it gladly,” Macer lied.

The inquisitor nodded in appreciation and left to prepare the briefing. Steeling himself, Macer walked out of his quarters and into the hall. Rousing the Marines from their cabins would have relatively been easy if it wasn't for Chaplain Gottfrid Bardrik.

Worst first, he thought. He made the thought a mantra as he forced himself to march over to Bardrik's room. Worst first. Worst first. Worst--

Heavy footsteps shook the floor. “I would not disturb him, if I were you,” a deep voice said from behind. Suppressing a yelp of surprise, Macer turned to face the speaker. He was a towering man clad in matte-black powered armor, with a bulky servo-arm mounted on his back. Contrasted with his unnaturally dark skin and armor, his normal eye seemed as bright as his glowing augmetic one.

“Ah. Thanks for the warning ... Techmarine Dac'an.” Macer still had trouble addressing Marines with anything other than “my lord.” Still, Valesius had insisted that such formalities were to be dropped.

“Might I ask why?” he asked Dac'an.

“The Brother-Chaplain is in the middle of the Litany of Righteous Bloodshed. I suspect he is still bitter about the events of our last mission.”

“I see. In that case, could you please relay a message to him?”

“Have you mistaken me for your personal courier, Scribe Macer?”

Even for a Space Marine, Dac'an's sense of humor was drier than century-old jerky on a desert world. Often, the only sign that he was joking was an ever-so-slight twist to the left corner of his lip. Macer hesitated, then spotted it.

“In all seriousness, please inform him that all squad members are to convene in the meeting room by 0900 hours. From there, we will be given our briefing.”

The twist in Dac'an's lip receded. “I will relay the message. Hopefully, the Brother-Chaplain will be in a more agreeable mood this time.”

Macer winced at the memory. “Much appreciated, Techmarine Dac'an.”

Feeling much less tense now that he didn't need to deal with Bardrik, Macer proceeded down the hall to Njord Vallin's quarters. He rapped on the metal hatch, but there was no answer or even any sound of movement. Odd, although not surprising. The Scout-Sergeant hated staying in one place for long. He went to Captain Albus's quarters, and knocked.

“Come in,” the Space Marine said flatly. Macer opened the door but didn't step inside. Unlike the other Marines, Captain Albus was in a rather opulent cabin. Soothing Imperial hymns were drifting from an elegantly designed vox-speaker by the bed. On the back wall hung an extravagant oil painting. It depicted a woman clad in golden armor flanked by reverent Guardsmen, triumphantly raising her sword as a Chaos tank burned in the background. He could practically hear the cheers of the soldiers, smell the burning promethium-

The voice of Captain Albus brought him back to reality. “Yes, Macer?”

The Ultramarine Captain was adjusting a targeting scope, his bolter stripped and laid out on the desk in front of him. His jaw was set, and his prominent brow was tight with concentration. Combined with his heavy powered armor, he looked for a moment like a gorilla playing with a telescope.

Perhaps the sleep deprivation was getting to him, because the image seemed irresistibly funny. He faked a small coughing fit and continued. “Pardon the interruption, Captain, but would you happen to know where the Scout-Sergeant is?”

Captain Albus didn't look up from examining his bolter. “Check the bilge. He told me he intended to spend some time down there.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Go along, now.”

So spoke the insufferable blue gorilla, Macer said to himself after he closed the door. Perhaps that was a bit unfair; only his left pauldron was blue.

He left the hallway and descended the corkscrew staircase to the bilge, wondering what the Space Wolf was up to. A bizarre series of noises was emanating from below. As he got closer, he realized that much of the noises were clips from marching tunes. Some were played painfully loud, others were so quiet that he almost thought he was imagining them. Whatever their volume, the songs would always end in a resounding smash and the crackle of short-circuiting electronics. Several seconds of silence would ensue, then the pattern would repeat.

Curious, Macer peered over the railing of the staircase. Scout-Sergeant Njord Vallin was below, dressed in his usual carapace armor and wearing a blindfold over his eyes. He was in a combat stance, his right hand wrapped around his signature short-handled axe. Scattered around him and about the bilge were dozens of battered vox-casters, many of which were in pieces. In a distant corner, a servitor manned a small control console.

“Scout-Sergeant?”

From six meters behind Vallin, the opening bars of Ah, Ye Hallowed Bridge of Kovoria began to play. Macer took special satisfaction in seeing the Space Wolf cleave the offending vox-caster in two. After prying his weapon from the caster's smoldering remains, Vallin pulled his blindfold off and looked up at Macer.

“You called for me?”

“The briefing is soon. We must be in the meeting room by 0900 hours.”

“I shall finish soon, then.” He pulled his blindfold back on and started to turn away.

“Oh, and Scout-Sergeant? Could you tell me why you were running about the bilge chopping up vox-casters?”

Vallin grinned up at him. “Because the bilge has more space than the chapel.”

“That's not what I--” Macer said.

“I know what you meant. If you are still curious, I will just say this: a wolf that hunts by sight never lasts the night.”

“Ah, then. Makes sense.” Macer said, not entirely sure if it did. He walked back up the stairs, all the while wondering how he had managed to scrounge up all those vox-casters. He decided to file that question away as yet another one of the little mysteries of Vallin.

He made his way to the conference room and took a seat in a high-backed chair, periodically checking his chronometer. Twenty minutes. Fifteen. Ten. Five. Inquisitor Valesius entered, giving a silent nod of greeting and organizing his data-slates. The inquisitor wasn't the formal commander of the Kill-team, but he often presented part of the briefing. Macer often suspected Valesius had much more authority over the team than he was supposed to have.

Captain Albus came in next. He took one look at the fragile wooden chairs surrounding the table, and decided to stand instead. Dac'an and Vallin arrived soon after, and a minute before the start of the briefing, Bardrik entered.

Chaplain Gottfrid Bardrik of the Black Templars was as friendly and approachable as a coffin filled with bloody nails. His constantly scowling face was crisscrossed by countless battle scars. He never walked anywhere; he stomped. He had only two moods: silent anger and loud anger. Fortunately, his current mood seemed to be the former.

Inquisitor Valesius studied the group. “Good. Now that we're all present, I shall begin.”

“Five standard days ago, the Warp's Bane, a freighter, was hijacked by rebels. An Astropath named Silas Mercator managed to escape from their clutches. He told us that the rebels traveled to a xeno world his cogitator designated 'Graneus Prime'. It is located in a realspace 'pocket' deep within the Immaterium.”

“And his story was accepted without question?” Bardrik said. “It could easily be Chaos trickery.”

“Your concerns would be valid, Chaplain, if our information came solely from the Astropath. But there was another message. It came through the Emperor's Tarot, two standard days before our psykers received Mercator's distress call.”

Bardrik had no reply. In a way, the Chaplain succeeded in bringing out Macer's religious side: he thanked the Emperor every time Bardrik shut his mouth.

“The Tarot readings told of a xenos-inhabited planet hidden in the Warp.” Inquisitor Valesius said. “It was divined that Chaos fears something on this world, something called the 'Six Blessings.' The Tarot also warned that if these Six Blessings are not found and safeguarded soon, they will be lost forever. We suspect the rebels are searching for them as well.”

“I take it, Inquisitor, that this is why we had so little time to prepare?” asked Dac'an.

“Exactly. An Explorator flotilla is expected to arrive in three weeks, but the threat the rebels pose needs to be eliminated well in advance. It is most fortuitous I was able to requisition this vessel in such short order. Few vessels possess a Geller field emitter powerful enough for a voyage through these regions of the Warp.”

He passed out data-slates to the squad members. “Watch-Commander Metallus has given us two major goals. The Captain shall detail these.”

Albus stepped forward. “Our primary objective is to recapture the Warp's Bane, taking as many prisoners as possible. Our secondary objective is to land on Graneus Prime, and search for any sign of the Six Blessings until the Explorator fleet arrives. Should we encounter any sentient xeno species, we are to observe them and avoid hostile contact.”

“Showing mercy to heretics and aliens?” Bardrik said, staring incredulously at Albus. “With all due respect, Brother-Captain, these are strange things to ask of a Kill-team, are they not?”

Captain Albus met his gaze without hesitation. “I know that you are a recent addition to the team, Brother-Chaplain, so I will explain. Information is scarce for this operation, so any captives we take could provide valuable intelligence. We hope to discover where these rebels came from, and how they were able to carry out such a well-coordinated act of piracy. They might even know something about the Six Blessings. As for the xenos, the cost of sparking a pointless conflict would far outweigh--”

The ship bucked like a gigantic steed trying to shake off its rider. The Marines around Macer staggered and dug their gauntlets into any handhold they could find. Before he even had time to scream, he was torn out of his seat and hurled into the air.

His back slammed into the bulkhead. Tears of pain beaded in his eyes. He couldn't move, or breathe: an invisible force was keeping him flattened against the wall.

This is why I hate Warp travel, he thought. It was the last thing that crossed his mind before he blacked out.

---

Ponyville, Equestria
1100 hours

Pinkie Pie was having another twitch attack.

Twilight Sparkle stood nearby and watched, surprised and a bit concerned. The latest round of jitters had seized her friend for a record time.

“Uh, Pinkie? Are you okay?”

“Twitcha-twitch! Twitcha twitchy-twitch!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. She bounced wildly around the room three times, the last bounce landing her directly in front of Twilight. Suddenly she froze, her eyes crossed.

“Pinkie?” Twilight asked.

Her eyes uncrossed, and she grinned at the baffled unicorn. “Done!” the pink pony said.

“Whew. You had me worried, there.”

“No time for worrying!” Pinkie Pie chirped. “Some new folks are coming to town! We've got to get ready!” she said, bouncing into the kitchen.

“You want to throw them a welcome party?” Twilight said, following her.

“Yessiree!”

As the two ponies set to work on getting the cake pans and decorations out, Twilight couldn’t shake a feeling of unease about the “new folks.”

“Is there anything else you know about these ponies?” Twilight asked.

“Nope, but that’s part of the fun!” Pinkie Pie said, pulling out a box of confetti. Her smile faded slightly. “I don’t think they’re ponies, though. They’re ... something else.”

Twilight was unsettled by this, but soon she had all but forgotten her worries. Pinkie had a way of sweeping a pony’s troubles away with a wave of jokes and stories. In two hours, the room was festooned with brightly colored ribbons, streamers, and balloons galore. Several plates of generously frosted cupcakes sat on the center table.

Once they’d finished, Pinkie Pie launched into a ditty about how her unicorn friend was “fantastiwondulous” for spending the evening helping her.

“You don’t need to thank me, Pinkie. I had a great time.” Twilight said.

“You’re still fantastiwondulous!” Pinkie Pie said, hugging her.

Later, as she walked home, Twilight realized how quickly time had passed. It seemed like it had been morning only a minute ago, and now the sky was about to become Luna's domain.

Her day had been a blur of activity. She'd helped Applejack fix the fences, had lunch with Rainbow Dash, seen a play with Rarity, and stayed at Sugarcube Corner for the rest of day. Not a moment of it was spent studying.

A year ago, the idea of a day without hitting the books had been unthinkable. She smiled to herself. It was amazing how much had changed in a year. She was still a diligent student, but now she had friends. Friends she wouldn't trade for anything.

Suddenly, a strange shape flew by. She would have dismissed it as a bat or some other familiar creature had it not been for the sharp buzz it made as it zipped past. It sounded nothing like any animal she'd ever heard.

She looked behind. There it was: a roughly spherical object sailing through the air. The setting sun glinted off of it as it flew towards Sugarcube Corner.

---

Servo-Skull ES-9q scanned the building. Had it still contained a human brain, it might have marveled at the way the house was decorated to look like it was made of sweets. As it was, it simply looked for a way inside the “xeno hab structure.”

(Potential access point located. Attempting entry. Entry successful.)

Pinkie Pie watched in bemusement as the weird floating thing drifted through her window. She almost felt scared for a second, but she pushed the feeling away. The closer she looked at it, it seemed less scary and more silly. Especially after it veered into a small plate of cupcakes.

(Minor collision. Damage assessment: negligible.)

It backed up from the plate, now sporting a mustache of frosting. Pinkie Pie giggled.

(Xeno lifeform sighted. Potential target match. Initiating pict/auspex scan. ERROR: Pict/auspex scan interrupted. [CAUSE: Xeno lifeform has left scanning field.] Attempting to reposition. ERROR: Servo-skull mobility inhibited. [CAUSE: Servo-skull is tethered. {Likelihood: 99.2%}] Attempting to break tether. Attempt unsuccessful.)

(Target has re-entered scanning field. Initiating pict/auspex scan. ERROR: Pict/auspex scan interrupted. [CAUSE: Scanning device obscured.])

---

In the end, Twilight Sparkle's curiosity got the best of her. She galloped back to Sugarcube Corner, where the buzzing noise seemed to now be coming from. When she came inside, Mrs. Cake was getting ready to close up the shop.

“Mrs. Cake?” Twilight called. “Pardon me, but did you see anything ... strange come inside?”

Mrs. Cake shook her head. “No, I didn't. Does this have something to do with that sound upstairs?”

“Yes. I'll explain more later, but first I need to check on Pinkie.”

“Go right ahead.”

Twilight hurried up to her friends room and knocked on the door. Much to her relief, she heard Pinkie say, “Come on in!”

Twilight entered, then promptly froze in her tracks. Pinkie Pie was sitting right next to a floating skull, smiling as though she’d just figured out a new game.

“Hi, Twilight! Back so soon?” Pinkie said.

Twilight's throat went dry as she stared at the grim object. The skull was either badly misshapen, or it had belonged to a creature she'd never heard of. Its jaw was missing, and an assortment of strange machine parts were fused to its left side. Thankfully, some of its features were covered up by an oversized party hat.

Wait, what? Twilight thought. As if that wasn’t weird enough, the skull was leashed to a stool by a hastily-tied string, making it look like some sort of gruesome balloon.

“Pinkie! What the heck is that?” Twilight said.

“This is Mister Floats! I think he's the first of the new folks.” Pinkie Pie drew close to Twilight, leaning in to whisper to her. “He tried to gobble up the cupcakes, so I had to tie him up.”

The skull turned downwards, like a man bowing his head in shame. When it came upright, the party hat had tumbled off. A lens protruded from a newly exposed eye socket.

Suddenly, the lens began to glow red. Twilight and Pinkie Pie flinched in alarm as a vertical line of crimson light raced across them.

(Scan successful. Confirmed target match.)

Comments

[Basilisk]

The writing is solid. Grammar, punctuation, sentence structure all good as far as I can tell.
Somewhat of a reused setting, but it's starting out better than many others, and it has potential. I'll follow it and see where you lead.

[Lord Arcturus]

Saw this on FanFiction. Does this mean we'll see new chapters?

[thirdstring_overlord]

526319

Indeed it does. I'm going through the last edits on the third chapter, and I hope to submit it soon.
Sorry about the absurdly long delay.

[stringtheory]

this should be interesting...

[Kwisatz-Haderach]

“No time for worrying!” Pinkie Pie chirped. “Some new folks are coming to town! We've got to get ready!” she said, bouncing into the kitchen.
“You want to throw them a welcome party?” Twilight said, following her.
“Yessiree!”

OH, JESUS...

Yes, I said that in real life when I read that bit. This...is gonna be good.

[Brother Malachai]

1735155

Yeah, good luck trying to keep a Deathwatch team from dakka'ing xenos. X-/

[TheAlmightySage]

blue gorilla

They're smurfs, not gorrilas.

[josue]

526414 can you please do more