Chapter 6
FRIENDSHIP IS SANCTIONED
by Blue Legend/Thirdstring Overlord
-----
CHAPTER SIX
Ponyville, Equestria
0702 hours
Pinkie Pie bounced merrily along, clutching the handle of a basket between her teeth. This was a special occasion, so it deserved some special treats: a ten-pound poundcake, (not the baby pony kind) a lion's share of eclairs (it had been tough to get the lion to share them, though) and a devil's food cake that had come straight from the ovens of Tartarus. (Spicy, but fun!)
She planned to set up a picnic in the town square; she was sure the new guys would be there soon. It sounded like there was already quite a commotion going on over there. Was she late? She had slept through her alarm clock that morning, so maybe she was.
Picking up her pace to a slightly more hurried bounce, she turned the final corner and found herself faced with a scene that made her wonder if she was having a really nasty nightmare.
The newcomers were pretty weird-looking, but that wasn't what made her freeze with fear. They were surrounding the citizens of Ponyville, tangling them with nets and beating them with clubs and treating them like they were...they were...
Pinkie Pie didn't know what they were treating them like, but one thing was clear. Her guests were meanies. Major, certified, super-uber, downright, uptight meanies. She felt her hair deflate as this realization sank in, and her eyes began to water. She had wanted so badly for this to be a day of fun and celebration, and now...
Cold fury overtook her. In an instant the party cannon was by her side, and she stuffed the ten-pound poundcake inside its barrel.
“You...” she stammered. “You...you party poopers!”
She fired the cannon, launching the cake at the nearest bad guy. It smashed into him at full force, rocketing him into a vegetable stand. There was a loud crunch as the stand collapsed under his weight, spilling pumpkins everywhere. This caught the attention of two of the other bullies, who broke from the circle and began taking aim at her. She gulped and frantically tried to reload the cannon.
Before they could fire, they were bowled over by a blue streak that flashed across her vision.
“Ooh! Nice one, Dash!” Pinkie called, a smile finding its way back onto her face.
“No...problem,” Rainbow Dash called back, making zigzag trails of light as she zipped towards the bad guys' flying machines. Pinkie noticed how tired Dash sounded, as though she was about to pass out. “I'm gonna give...these jerks...something to shoot at. See if you...can find—oof!” A net wrapped around the pegasus's wings, sending her plummeting into the crowd of ponies.
Anger flared through her as she heard the bad guys cheer in celebration. “You guys deserve a taste of baked justice!” she announced, loading the cannon and lighting the fuse.
Scholars later concluded that Pinkie Pie contributed minimally to the First Battle of Ponyville before her swift capture. However, it was regarded as intriguing that she managed to splatter the intruders with two dozen orange jellycakes, four dozen duck-shaped muffins, and six dozen reverse flapjacks, despite not having brought these items or even baked them in the first place.
Ponyville, Equestria
0705 hours
Eventually, Vallin came across another clearing.
The buildings reminded him of some of the villages he had seen on primitive worlds, built with timber frames and thatched roofs. Once he drew closer, however, the resemblance fell apart. Every wall was carved with heart symbols, and their jettied upper stories stuck out so precariously he expected them to collapse at any second. There was even a house in the distance that had been made to resemble a pastry.
He stooped down to examine the road more closely. There were tracks in the dirt, each print a slightly oblong circle.
What kind of odd creatures made these?
Then the wind shifted, bringing in a chorus of terrified shrieks.
“Talon to Aegis,” he spoke into the vox. “Heard some screams. Sounded roughly two hundred meters northbound.”
++Copy that.++ Albus voxed back.
++It matches with the auspex.++ Dac'an noted. ++Latest readings show that the aerial units are still holding their positions.++
The hairs on the back of Vallin's neck prickled. As absurd as the houses looked, every window could have hidden an enemy observer or a sniper. There was too much open ground in this town, and no back alleys to speak of. They had little more chance of making a stealthy entrance than a drunken marching band. Still, he had been through far less forgiving environments, and at least the early morning sun provided plentiful shadows to hide in.
He half-expected to run into an ambush or a minefield at any moment, but his sense of unease only grew when no such thing came. It didn't help that he would sometimes catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of his eye, and fleeting whiffs of a bizarre scent that reminded him of horses.
What the hell is going on?
Ponyville, Equestria
0705 hours
Applejack had gotten herself into a dang fine mess this time. Making her way through the crowd of panicked ponies was like trying to wrestle a pig in a tub of molasses: you had to fight to make a single move.
She hardly even knew what was going on. She and Rarity had arrived at the meeting late, and before you could say Zapapple they were getting attacked by a gang of monsters with fancy flying contraptions and not a lot of courtesy.
They were a mean bunch, those monsters. They had already trapped Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie with some sort of net cannon, and they were looking to do the same to her.
Good luck with that, she thought, bucking her hooves into the belly of one of her would-be ponysnatchers. Hitting its metal armor hurt like heck, but it was clear the monster was in worse shape.
“Gasht! Zu kurnak!” it cried, doubling over in pain.
“Yeah, well, 'kurnak' yerself!” she shot back, kicking it again. This time she struck the monster in the face, instantly knocking it out cold.
“Applejack!” a pony shouted.
She felt a swell of hope when she heard that voice. It was Twilight Sparkle! If anypony knew what was going on—and how to stop these things—it was her.
“Twilight! Are you okay?”
“Just—oof –fine. I'm—ow–trying to—ouch!–find an opening!” Applejack could see her now, but only barely. The crowd was way too thick to see much more than just a few flashes of the unicorn's purple mane.
“Jus' stay where you are! Ah'm comin' to get ya!”
“Don't! Just run, okay—ow—RUN! Run and find help!”
“Ya know ah ain't gonna do that, Twi! Use one of yer spells and skedaddle outta here!”
“I can't—too many obstacles—can't concentrate—ergh!”
“Try, Twilight! Give it everythin' ya got!”
A purple glow began to wrap around the unicorn as she started the teleportation spell, growing brighter each second.
“Almost there—just one more--” Just then, a hysterical pony's hoof slammed into Twilight's forehead. She crumpled to the ground.
“No!” Applejack cried, anger and despair welling up in her like magma in a volcano. She fought her way through the crowd to Twilight, trying to protect the unconscious unicorn from being trampled. She didn't hear the renewed cries of fear as the monsters began to charge again.
By the time she noticed, it was far too late. She turned around just in time to be greeted by a wedge of hardened metal shields, and then everything went black.
Ponyville, Equestria
0706 hours
The team had taken cover on the bank of the creek surrounding the town square. Peering at the scene before him, Macer blinked and wondered what the combat drugs had done to his mind.
A panicked crowd of small, brightly-colored equinoid aliens were surrounded by a circle of thirty soldiers, who were using webbers and suppression shields to keep them penned in. Occasionally a squad of three rebels would charge into the crowd with their shields raised, spreading havoc and pain as they went. They would then grab a seemingly random xeno from the crowd, shove a bag around its head, and drag it outside the perimeter. Just as he watched, the soldiers violently hurled a yellow equinoid with wings into a cage. It let out a piteous cry of pain as it slammed against the steel bars, and he couldn't help but wince.
Four shuttles hovered closely overhead, their hulls sleek and forked like the tongues of serpents. They were being swarmed by winged equinoids, yet the aircraft made no attempt at defense aside from firing more webber cannons.
At first Macer assumed the soldiers were rounding up some sort of strange indigenous livestock, but it soon became clear that these aliens were far from dumb beasts. Some of them wore hats and jackets and even dresses. A few babbled in a hauntingly familiar language, and screamed and sobbed with uncannily human-like voices. Others appeared to be trying to coordinate a defense, and at one point even succeeded in breaking a hole in the circle large enough for a xeno to escape.
Macer blinked again. The escaping equinoid was pushing a baby carriage, somehow managing to keep a tight grip on the handlebar with its forehooves.
“Throne! So these are the villagers?” Macer murmured. “What the hell do they want from them?”
“I'll venture a guess and say it's nothing good,” Valesius said before glancing at Albus. “These soldiers match the descriptions of the pirates, captain. I'd advise that we make use of this distraction and press our attack.”
Briefly Macer wondered where the pirates' “descriptions” had come from if their only witness was a blind man. Once again, it seemed that Valesius knew more than he was letting in on. None of the Marines brought this up, however, so Macer concluded that either they were too focused on the mission to complain or it was just himself that had been left in the dark.
Albus nodded and said, “Talon, this is Aegis. Any signs of rebel activity outside the encirclement?”
++Affirmative,++ Vallin's voice crackled over the vox. He had sneaked along the edge of the stream to cover another approach to the town square, hiding himself in a cluster of bushes to the northeast. ++But it seems they only have four sentries posted. Quite sloppy, if you ask me.++
“This isn't right,” Bardrik growled. “There is no way they could be this foolish and steal a heavily guarded freighter.”
“It is often difficult to distinguish been foolishness and desperation,” Dac'an said.
“And why, pray tell, would a pack of xeno scum warrant more attention than a crash landing?” Bardrik said. It was clear from his voice that he felt greatly insulted by that prospect.
“Perhaps these aliens know something about the Six Blessings,” Valesius observed. “A slim possibility, but an important one nonetheless. I suggest we limit our fire to the rebels. If we can appear as saviors, we might be able to use it to our advantage.”
“Are you suggesting that we try to earn the trust of these miserable xenos? Have you gone mad?” Bardrik hissed.
“We've already discussed this. We are the scalpel of the Imperium, not the meat grinder. If you cannot accept this, you should have never joined the Deathwatch.”
“Your plan is...unconventional, inquisitor, but not without precedent,” Albus said. Macer concurred. Temporary alliances between Imperials and aliens were rare, but the Deathwatch was far from above making use of xenos assets if it suited its needs. “Perhaps it is worth attempting.”
Bardrik gave him a glare that could have melted through adamantium, but said no more.
++Doesn't matter much to me,++ Vallin voxed. ++Sighted a possible priority target by the fencepost thirty degrees to your left. Seems to be their commander.++
The soldier Vallin had commented on was standing apart from the rest of the soldiers. He had a hand pressed against the side of his helmet, apparently operating a vox link.
“Copy that,” Albus said. “On my signal, take him down. You're clear to engage any other targets you deem necessary. With luck, we might get them to break contact with the xenos.”
He turned to address the squad. “The rest of us will hold our fire. But as soon as they try to attack Vallin's position, all weapons are free. Dac'an? Get on the bank with me. Chaplain, I'll trust you with guarding our left flank. Inquisitor? Cover the right. And Macer?”
Macer could only barely hear him. Blood roared in his ears as a cocktail of pre-battle adrenaline and combat drugs flowed through his veins. His muscles felt like taut steel cables, and the cheerful morning sunlight seemed as bright as a magnesium flare.
“Yes, captain?” he asked. His own voice sounded slow and strange, like a distant moan.
“Keep your head down, and kill any rebel who gets too close.”
“Understood.” Macer nodded and gripped his revolver tighter, the checkered grip leaving painful red marks on his hands. He had never relished combat, especially now that Apothecary Remus wasn't with them. As devious as that Blood Raven scoundrel was, he'd never allowed a single team member to die, Space Marine or otherwise.
“If this turns out to be a trap, we'll break contact and fall back to Waypoint Alpha,” Albus said. “Talon, do you have a shot?”
++Affirmative,++ Vallin voxed.
“Fire when ready.”
There was a torturous pause. Suddenly, the commander and two nearby soldiers toppled to the ground. No gunshots could be heard: Vallin's stalker-pattern bolter had struck again. Noticing their fallen comrades, the troopers began to respond.
“Dulne nir kast?”
A squad of soldiers detached from the encirclement, darting behind cover and desperately searching for the interloper.
Two more went down, clean headshots on both of them.
“Malnaa!” one of the survivors cried in anguish as he saw them fall. “Mir! Vo mir!” he roared, pointing towards Vallin's position. He was shot seconds later, but the damage had been done. A sizable chunk of the soldiers drew their autoguns and unleashed a deafening fusillade of firepower in Vallin's direction. To Macer's astonishment, their weapons were a far cry from the one-mag-and-chuck-it junk that rebels usually carried. They fired faster than storm bolters, and yet somehow barely produced any recoil.
However, the aliens immediately took advantage of their disarray. The encirclement had weakened, and it was breaking on the right side. Numerous xenos were already escaping, but the troopers were in no position to intervene save for firing a few haphazard shots with their webbers.
Despite the chaos, some of the soldiers were getting dangerously close to Vallin's position, and it was only a matter of time before he would be overrun.
“Weapons free!” Albus called. He and Dac'an opened fire, the heavy weapons barking like the hounds of hell as they mowed a squad down. The rebels died strangely clean deaths, spilling armor fragments across the grass but shedding no blood.
This barely registered with Macer. Now that the fight had begun, his attention was now solely focused on winning it. He drew a bead on the nearest heretic and squeezed his handgun's trigger. It bucked indignantly in his hands, its report lost amidst the roar of the bolters. His target staggered, but quickly recovered and brought his autogun to bear. Now Macer could see that the rebel had a grenade launcher mounted underneath his rifle, and was seconds away from pummeling the kill-team with a frag blast.
The sounds of the battle grew distant, and he found himself gripped by an unfamiliar rage. His field of vision narrowed to a red, pulsing tunnel, obscuring everything but the enemy soldier. He felt like a freight train, and this clueless little man refused to get off the tracks.
The rebel flinched once, twice, and then a third time, looking like he was doing some sort of spastic dance. Feeling mocked, Macer grew even angrier. As if to taunt him further, the rebel dropped his weapon and started reeling backwards.
Now he wanted to tear this imbecile limb from limb. If only I could get closer—damn robes got hitched on some forning--...
The anger abruptly subsided, and Macer saw that it was Valesius who was holding him back. Baffled, he looked back at the enemy soldier, who was now crumpled in a heap. Every remaining round in the revolver's cylinder had been emptied into the heretic's torso.
“Macer!” Albus shouted as he slapped home a new magazine. “Have you lost your mind? I ordered you to stay in cover!”
Macer sank to his knees, his muscles twitching violently. Sorry, can't talk, Macer thought. I'm having a lovely little fit of convulsions right now.
“He's just suffering a minor reaction to the combat stimms. He'll be fine in a minute or two.” Valesius said.
Albus looked like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by a horrific cry of rage. It had the signature distortion of a helmet speaker, but was far too shrill and piercing to be from one of the Marines. Suddenly a rebel soldier bolted from underneath the bridge on their left, a wicked sickle-shaped sword clutched in his hands.
Bardrik's response was so fast and casual that it was almost comical. He reached out and grabbed the charging man by the neck, turning his battle cry into a choked squawk. Without a second's delay, he then hurled him against the bridge. The finely-carved wood cracked from the impact, and the rebel's body flopped into the stream with a loud splash.
For the second time that day, Macer somehow found the strength to get back on his feet. He risked a peek at the town square. Despite their initial advantage of numbers, the rebels were clearly losing this battle. They had already lost one third of their men and the survivors were rapidly losing ground.
Soon they were retreating to the shuttles, scaling the rappelling ropes with compact winches that rocketed them skyward. Before Macer could celebrate, however, one of the shuttles dropped a plasteel crate onto the ground below.
What the...
The crate blew open, revealing a strange quadrupedal machine that had been packed inside. It looked vaguely insectile, with four thin legs joining with a polished metal hub that served as its thorax. A reinforced meter-tall stalk protruded from the top of the thorax, bearing four cameras facing in the cardinal directions. But what worried Macer the most was its armaments: as he watched it, a ring bearing four autoguns smoothly traveled up the stalk like an elevator. The machine's slender legs gracefully extended outward, finding purchase on the soft grass below, and it stood up to its full height.
All the while, the kill-team concentrated their fire on this new threat. The bolt rounds blew armor fragments off of it like chaff, but it showed no signs of serious damage. The autoguns and the cameras were sealed in armored casings, making them no softer targets than the rest of the vehicle.
Macer's heartbeat galloped as he fumbled with the speed-loader on his revolver. It was idiotic, of course: if a machine like that had been able to withstand a volley of Astartes bolter fire, a few stub rounds would be utterly useless.
Better to die a defiant fool than a submissive one, he thought, thumbing the hammer back and loosing a few ineffectual, yet satisfying rounds.
The walker drew closer. Now the ring of autoguns had reached the top of its stalk, right underneath its cameras. The added elevation had given the guns a clear shot over the kill-team's cover. One of them seemed to be pointing directly between Macer's eyes, and the scribe looked down its barrel in mesmerized horror.
“Cover your eyes!” Dac'an called.
Macer reacted too late. There was a fierce howl of rushing, superheated air. A blinding blue light scorched his retinae, causing him to curse and screw his eyelids shut. As the afterimage pulsed in his vision, he could hear something heavy collapse to the ground, and caught the smell of white-hot metal.
When he finally opened his eyes he saw that the walker had been transformed into a smoldering lump of molten metal, small flames flickering in the grass surrounding it. Dac'an had incinerated the machine with a blast from his combi-meltagun.
Macer could hear what sounded like cheers coming from the xenos, most of whom had wisely fallen back to avoid the gunfire. The few who remained in the fray were the winged ones, who were still doing their best to keep the shuttles occupied.
Bardrik's frown deepened. “These degenerate beasts seem to think we are helping them.”
“Then the plan is working,” Albus said. “Now let's finish these heretics off.”
Three more crates came crashing to the ground, bursting open to reveal that many quadruped walkers.
“Throne,” Valesius uttered, ducking just in time to avoid a scything torrent of heavy autogun fire.
“Any chance you have more charges in that melta?” Macer called to Dac'an, already fearing his answer.
“Negative,” the Techmarine said with uncanny calmness. “It is a single-shot weapon. Reloading it is impractical under battlefield conditions.”
“It matters not,” Albus said. “I have a workable substitute.” With that, he pulled a krak grenade from his belt, primed it, and lobbed it at the nearest walker.
Whump! A perfectly placed bullet from the autoguns detonated the grenade midway through its trajectory, nearly bursting Macer's eardrums.
++That looked unpleasant,++ Vallin voxed. ++Trying to draw their fire, but not much luck. Damn things have a 360 degree firing arc.++
This is a stupid way to die, Macer thought. Death by giant enemy crab machines.
There was a thunderous boom of displaced air, and a strange beam of purple energy shot towards the walkers. Whirling around, he could see its source: it was another one of the winged xenos, weaving erratic patterns in the air to dodge the retaliatory gunfire. It was noticeably larger than the other aliens, its coat a rich midnight blue. A horn on its head projected the energy beam, focusing on the closest walker.
For a moment, nothing seemed to happen to the machine, and Macer's newfound sense of hope faltered. Then bright blue electrical arcs started to shoot from its joints. Smoke billowing from its overloaded generator, the walker shuddered to a halt. Within ten seconds, the xeno had disabled the other two walkers as well.
“The heretics are escaping!” Bardrik roared. Indeed, while the kill-team had been pinned down by the walkers, the rebels had finished boarding the shuttles. The transports silently glided away, ignoring what few bolter or plasma shots the kill-team managed to hit them with. Soon they were completely out of sight.
“Search the area. See if they left any wounded behind,” Albus ordered.
++Already on it. So far, it seems they took all their casualties with them.++ Vallin said.
“It appears so,” Bardrik said, staring in bafflement at the space under the bridge. The body he had left there was gone, too.
“Disappointing, but at least we made it clear that the servants of the Emperor are not to be trifled with,” Valesius said. “I'll order the House Lumina guards forward. We'll need their help in securing this location.”
“And what of the xenos?” Albus asked. The aliens who hadn't fled back into their homes were slowly regrouping in the town square, untangling their comrades from the web nets and freeing others from their cages. They kept their distance from the Marines, whispering to each other and pointing at them with their hooves. Their large eyes were bulging with terror, and Macer suddenly knew how a Necron felt.
“Macer and I will see if we can establish some form of communication with them,” Valesius replied. “Stay close, if you will—I'd like to have you around if something goes wrong.”
Albus nodded. “Very well. Dac'an, Bardrik--sweep the area. I don't want any more surprises.”
Meanwhile, the large xeno with the dark coat had landed. It regarded the three Imperials with cautious interest, its eyes narrowed.
Exchanging a glance with Valesius, Macer stepped forward.
Ponyville, Equestria
0711 hours
Twilight Sparkle slowly opened her eyes. Her head throbbed; it felt worse than the time a piano had fallen on it.
Everything was blurry, but she could see that she was in a cage. The steel bars pressed uncomfortably against her skin.
What happened? Somepony kicked me, and then--
There was a light jingle as the cage's lock was opened. The door swung open, and she could see that her liberator was Lockpick, a unicorn known for his obvious talent.
“What happened?” Twilight groaned. “Did we fight off the aliens?”
“Seems so. You're friends are safe; they're just waking up now. Gotta say, my respect for Luna went up a couple notches. She came in at the last minute, but if hadn't been for her...”
“She saved us?”
Lockpick shook his head. “No. She saved them,” he said, glancing to his left.
She followed his gaze and gasped. Two aliens clad in ornate robes were standing nearby, their stances tense.
“Who are they?” Twilight asked.
“Not sure. All I know is that they helped us fight off the other aliens.”
Twilight blinked away the blurriness, and then quickly regretted it. A common theory among ponies--particularly the more ignorant ones--was that if space aliens existed, they would look a lot like normal ponies. Twilight had always been annoyed by that theory, but now she wished it was true.
The aliens were even more horrible without their masks. Their eyes were beady, bloodshot marbles set underneath bony, sharp brows. They had no muzzles: their noses protruded only slightly from their faces, giving them a disturbingly smashed-in appearance.
They possessed short necks and thick, broad chests. The otherworldly appearance of the aliens was enhanced further by their height: they were easily head and shoulders above Twilight if she had been standing on her hind legs.
Monsters, a small voice in the back of her head cried. In spite of years of rational thinking, she felt a deep, primitive fear welling within her.
It didn't help that Luna seemed to be fighting panic, too.
“DROP THINE WEAPONS AND STAND DOWN!” Luna bellowed. “APPROACH NO CLOSER, OR WOE BETIDE THEE!”
Dark violet energy wreathed Luna's horn, emitting a threatening hum as the magical forces charged up. The squadron of royal guards flanking the princess were frozen in defensive positions, their faces set in baleful glares.
The aliens hesitated, and a third one stepped into view. This creature was even larger and more intimidating, dressed in a ridiculously thick suit of black armor that made it look like a colossal statue. Two grim red eyes glared from its helmet, conveying nothing but menace. It was clutching a bulky weapon in its huge armored gauntlets, and it was looking increasingly eager to use it.
“Luna!” Twilight cried. “Enough with the Royal Canterlot Voice!”
“HUSH, TWILIGHT SPARKLE. LEAVE THIS MATTER TO US.”
As Luna was speaking, Twilight could see the giant raise its weapon to its shoulder. She had little understanding of how the aliens' weapons worked, but she felt safe assuming that it wasn't a good sign.
It occurred to Twilight that unless she did something, this was only going to result in another horrendous battle. These aliens seemed different than the ones before; maybe this was a chance to start over. Maybe there was a chance for peace.
A chance for peace. That was a thought that jump-started her exhausted muscles and sent her mind racing for a solution. In an instant, she thought of one. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea, but it was better than standing back and watching as Luna unwittingly started another fight.
“Wait!” Twilight said, dashing in front of Luna. The aliens tensed, but didn't attack. “It doesn't have to be like this! We don't want to hurt you.”
The aliens seemed to notice the pleading tone in her voice, because she saw the tension in their body language slowly recede.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle. Ponykind welcomes you to Equestria,” she said, bowing her head.
The two aliens in front looked at each other, and their posture relaxed some more. The giant standing behind them didn't lower its weapon, but it seemed less anxious.
Suddenly joyful music began to play, and Twilight looked behind her to see that not only had Pinkie Pie gotten free, but she had more than enough energy to do her usual welcoming routine.
“WELCOME, WELCOME, WELCOME--” she began to sing, to the accompaniment of blaring horns and confetti poppers. An expression that looked like utter confusion spread across the aliens' faces.
“Pinkie, is now the time?”
The party pony looked thoughtful, and then shrugged. “Maybe not.”
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Nice. Very nice. I greatly enjoy this story.
Mixing 40K with MLP is a risky move, but you seem to be pulling it off splendidly.
Writing is good, story is solid, and it is quite entertaining. So overall, A quality!
Looking forward to the next update.
Nice chapter.
I did an actual face palm at the end.
Oh God that cover image. A thousand times yes.
Yep, Pinkies in character.
Seems that physics in Equestria isn't like the physics of the 40K galaxy or even the "physics" of the Warp. Interesting...
Emperor's Mercy, Deathwatch on Equestria?! This is going to be interesting
oh godz Pinkie
there should be a bronies space marine chapter. i call naming it.
When can we expect an update?
1439211
I've been throwing around an idea for a while for a chapter called the Brothers of Harmony...
Great story. Keep it up!
I can only imagine the thoughts running through that marine's head right now...
1175592
This is a stupid way to die, Macer thought. Death by giant enemy crab machines.
Does this mean we'll get to see Rarity fight a Crab? :?
Yeah, 1174969 said. Combining 40K and MLP in any way that doesn't utterly ruin one of the settings is really hard, but you are doing pretty well. The 40K threats doesn't feel too neutered and the ponies are not dying in bloody droves. Hate the crossovers that just result in loooooooooots of blood. A crossover like this obviously can't avoid some, but the fact that the ponies escaped with no real casualties here is a point for you.
Can't help but think that they would regard the Alicorns as either high-level psykers, daemons or the smallest, silliest daemon princesses ever, what with being rulers with magic powers and power over sun and moon.
Also, I love the fact that both sides see the other as eldritch, either by being "too real", a nice take on the "alien geometries"-idea and the 40K seeing them as oddly flat. Awesome.
All in all, this is great. Have to ask, are these 40K characters yours or are they from a novel?
3144452
I'm assuming chaos defiler