> Flight of The Waning Moon > by axiosriot > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: Crusaders and the Night Angel (Unedited) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue Crusaders And the Night Angel The snow was thick upon the rocky ground, nearing one foot in depth it was treacherous for anypony to travel through. But it was a journey that needed to be made, up Smokey Mountain they went to the last bastion of safety they had been told of. The three small fillies struggled to climb up the rocky surfaces, their size proving to hinder their progress, something they were reluctant to admit. The three had travelled far to reach this place together and would tough out whatever the natural elements could hurl at them, for they knew they had to make it to find salvation and aid from the visitors that fell from the stars. The very same ones their older sisters and the Princesses had been convinced were nothing but villainous by a second group of visitors, yet their words had proven false and now they had taken Equestria. They had bent its once peaceful lands and free ponies to their dark and vile will. One of the three fillies, a unicorn filly, stopped and sniffled her cheeks wet, not from the bitter chill in the air but from the tears that still flowed freely from her eyes. She shivered hugging the tattered red cape close to her body, it was a reminder to her of a life that was now lost to her and her friends, a time she wished they could go back to where they lived care free with a simple goal, to gain their cutie marks and remain true friends. “Come on Sweetie Belle ya can’t stop now, we gotta find them!” uttered a small orange Pegasus filly with a purple mane, who like Sweetie Belle wore a tattered red cape. “They’ll help us I know they will!” “How do you?” Sweetie muttered in response, her head hung low tears streaming from her cheers. “My sister, her friends and the Princesses help those monsters hunt them down.” He voiced cracked as she fought back fresh tears form the memories now filling her mind. “But they just gotta!” The orange filly shouted, her voice full of desperate hope. “Scootaloo is raite!” the third filly interjected, a small yellow earth pony who, who like her friends was also wearing a tattered red cap, her main however was free flowing having lost whatever had held it in place “Ah jest know we’ra goin’ ta find em!” “But what if they won’t help us!” Sweetie responded, stamping her left fore hoof upon the snowy ground “I mean think about it Applebloom, they have no reason to trust or help us.” “Ah wouldn’t say that. One of em was nice tah us.” The yellow filly responded. “Yer Sweetie see they’ll hel...” Scootaloo however was cut off by a deafening sound, like that of thunder, echoing from bellow. The three fillies gasped and huddled together was they slowly peered over the edge of the ledge they were on glancing down at what was below. And there they saw it, a huge black armoured figure was bellow its weapon raised towards them, it had been sent after them and it was getting closer. They knew outrunning such a brute was not possible yet still they needed to try, they had to find them, they had to get help. So they redoubled their efforts increasing the rate in which the climbed upwards, all the while the black figure below followed only to pause every so often in which to fire more shots up at them before continuing upon his climb. Slowly but surely the figure began to close the distance, its deep throaty laughter echoed from its grilled helmet. “You think those bastards can help you Xenos!” its voice was deep and grated the fillies ears, yet still they climb desperate to get help. “We made sure they would not! Your Princesses blindly followed our words to aid us in hunting them down to all but a few men!” The figure laughed as it sighted Sweetie Belle within its weapons sites. It levelled its weapon towards the ledge she was on and fired. The shell left the barrel of its weapon and slammed home into the small ledge, turning the rocky surface Sweetie Belle and climbed unto into nothing more than rubble. With her footing gone she began to fall, letting out a desperate scream of both fear and dread she flailed her hooves hoping beyond all reason somepony or something would save her. “SWEETIE!” Both Applebloom and Scootaloo yelled in unison struck with horror at the sight of their friend falling to a certain death. As she fell Sweetie Belle remember the last time she had seen her sister, it had been only three days ago when Equestria was taken from ponykind by those huge armoured beings. She had seen not only her sister but the other elements of harmony struck down and imprisoned within their own minds, it was a sight she could not forget nor the last words her sister had manage to say. She had told Sweetie to run. To run and never look back. Bracing herself for the impact with the ground Sweetie Belle was surprised it never came for something had caught her, she prayed it was not the black armoured thing but her friend. One of the good visitors named Armati, with her eyes closed still Sweetie Belle was only able to hear what has happening and what she heard was something she was glad she didn’t see. Nine thunderous staccatos rung out from close by, followed by the gurgling noises of a dying figure. Sweetie shivered hoping it was not her savour that was dead or her friends but instead the Black Armour one, being brave she gently opened her eyes and a smile sprung upon her face. For it was Armati who now held her within his grasp, she flung her arms around her heavily armoured gauntlet burying her face into the cloak draped around him. Armati chuckled glancing down at her before up towards Scootaloo and Applebloom, he holstered the bolt pistol he held within his left hand and then gently lowered Sweetie Belle to the ground fixing her with his gaze. “You are brave to come searching for us young one.” He began never taking his gaze from Sweetie Belle as Applebloom and Scootaloo made their way down to join them. “So tell me why do you seek to find us?” > Book One: Hidden Turncoats. Chapter One (Unedited) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Book One Hidden Turncoats Chapter One Galudis was not one to suffer ill of his emotions, but the events he had just witnessed changed that thought. Today Galudis had been led into a slaughter something he would have not believed impossible, he would have not even entertained such an idea possible had he not suffered it himself. His Primarch the first among equals had betrayed him, betrayed his loyal children and turned his back upon the Emperor, his father and the Imperium. Istvaan three was were Galudis been shown that his Primarch was no better than the non-compliant humans he’d fought, he did not wish to believe such a thing possible but yet he had seen it unfold before his eyes. Just when victory had been with the grasp of the combined might of three Astartes legions the traitors struck, they struck the way all cowards do from behind. Rather than grant those still loyal to the Emperor an honourable end the traitors sort to end them with one swift action. Exterminatus, the final solution to world beyond saving and compliance, the traitors had sat above Istvaan three and attempted to virus bomb it into a lifeless rock. Galudis grimaced at the memory. A memory still fresh within his mind one he would never forget, not until he had seen justice wrought up those that had betrayed their sons. Galudis looked up out of the observation deck aboard the lone battered strike cruiser into the swirling void of the Warp, he was alone in his thoughts of the past; of bonds formed with Battle Brothers across a plethora of conflicts. Bonds they had shattered in a heartbeat, with no second thought to the atrocities they had committed, nor a single thought to those that would be committed in the coming years. But yet he had survived, Galudis had starred death itself in the face and come out on top. He smiled at this small token of loyalty for he had no survived alone; he turned his thoughts to his brothers that had survived and those who had saved them from certain death at the hands of the traitorous dogs. With him aboard the strike cruiser that had been their saving grace Galudis was glad to have some brothers of his legion with him, though only ten of his fellow brothers of the sixteenth legion had survived. “Only ten survived.” Galudis muttered to himself in a hushed whisper, his head lowered. “That... That braggart, he cast us aside like we were nothing!” He bristled with rage, as his voice rose. “They betrayed us all cousin.” The new arrival had caught Galudis off guard. He had not expected anyone to join him within the observation deck. He turned around coming face to face with a fellow Astartes, clad in brilliant crimson battle plate trimmed with gold stood an Astartes of the fifteenth legion. With the destruction of Prospero the fifteenth had all been assumed lost to Russ’s dogs in an act of true betrayal, for they were loyal unto their end. They had defied the Emperors Edict at Nikaea, the Thousand Sons had used the occult practices they were forbade form using but they had only the purest intentions within their hearts. They had done so in order to protect the Warmaster, the first among equals, Horus Lupercal Primarch of the Luna Wolves. But their gambit had failed, for all their planning and perpetration the fifteenth legion were too late for the ruinous powers had already seen to the corruption of the Emperors favoured son. Yet they still resolved to save the Warmaster even at the cost of their legion, for the Primarch of the fifteenth Magnus the Red, The Crimson King used all his psychic might in an attempt to warn his father. Sadly no matter what Magnus had presented his father with as proof the Emperor was heartbroken that open of his sons had openly defied him and cast doubt upon another. The great wolf himself, Leman Russ Primarch of the Space Wolves had been sent to arrest his broth and his cabal of psykers to be brought to Terra to stand trial, but the Warmaster altered those orders. Instead of apprehending Magnus the Warmaster informed Russ to eradicate him, his legion and the innocent of Prospero. An act none foresaw but one that sealed the fate of the Thousand sons, they were utterly destroyed; only a handful survived the scoring. Those lucky to survive the scoring were now aboard this strike cruiser, their strike cruiser, it was these weary warriors who had been the salvation of Galudis, his surviving Battle Brothers and the seldom few who to remained loyal amongst the traitorous legions. “Well met Captain Rashidi.” Galudis held his arm out towards the Thousand son in a warriors greeting of old. Rashidi clasped his armoured hand around Galudis gauntlet returning the warrior salute and nodded once. “Though we have been betrayed I find solace in the fact that I have saved legionaries still loyal to the Emperor, but that is not why I have come to find you cousin.” Rashidi paused, before slowly removing his helmet. Tucking it under his left arm Rashidi fixed his eyes upon Galudis, as set of eyes that belong to a warrior who had seen much in his years. “I think a traitor exists amongst us, one who holds loyalty to the Warmaster over the Emperor.” Galudis was taken aback by this implication, having yet to come to terms with his Primarchs betrayal that to be struck with the news of another traitor among those the Horus sort to murder was something he refused to believe. “NO!” Galudis barked thrusting an accusing finger towards Rashidi. “That is not bloody possible! You saw what state we were in when you aided in our escape!” “Calm yourself cousin.” Rashidi replied as he raised his right arm in an implicating gesture. “I said I believe a traitor is among us, not that there actually is.” “And what evidence do you have to support such a claim!” Galudis snarled threw gritted teeth. “I have felt some amiss with my...” Rashidi began only to be interrupted as Galudis closed the distance between them. “You openly defy the Emperors edict! That is the reason the wolves brought ruin to your world! To your legion!” Galudis growled. “Need I remind you it was your Primarch who set us up to take such a fall.” Rashidi responded his voice remained calm and level. “It was at his hands the orders for those barbaric simpletons were altered.” “I know!” Galudis paused his voice losing its accusatory tone “I know...” “I don’t blame you cousin.” Rashidi reassured placing his right hand on Galudis’s left pauldron. “I blame your bastard Primarch.” “In that we have an accord.” Galudis sighs before he once again fixed his gaze upon Rashidi. “Now what other evidence do you have that there is likely a traitor amongst us?” “It would be better if you saw for yourself.” Rashidi motioned for Galudis to follow as he turned to leave. Galudis glanced over his shoulder out of the observation window one last time, his left hand forming into a tight fist as he turned to follow Rashidi through the halls of the strike cruiser. Once such a vessel would have been gleaming and immaculate from prow to stern, a true symbol of Imperial rule and compliance. Crewed by only the finest non Astartes of the expeditionary fleets, in order to deliver the will of the Emperor to all corners of the galaxy, while the Legio Astartes aboard trained and waited to be called into action to enforce compliance upon way ward human worlds that rejected imperial rule. Now however this Strike Cruiser, the Waning Moon, the last surviving strike cruiser of the Thousand Sons is nothing of its former glory. Pitted with large wounds of battles with ships once considered allies the Waning Moon holds the pitiful remnants of not only the Thousand Sons but the remnants of loyalists that survived the Istvaan three Atrocity, scattered remnants from the Istvaan five drop sight massacre and scattered elements for broken loyalist great companies encountered by sheer blind luck along the escape route to Terra. If one was to take stock of all those Legionnaires they would find members hailing from not only the Thousand Sons but from the Dark Angels, Space Wolves, Imperial Fists, Iron Hands, Death Guard, Night Lords, Alpha Legion World Eaters and the Luna Wolves. Galudis looked around at his fellow Astartes crewing vital points along the ship and sighed, were it was normal to see legion serfs or servitors manning these instruments they were instead taken up by Astartes of the legions. For the serfs and servitors of the Thousand Son who once crewed these vital stations had perished save one, leaving only the Astartes to crew such systems now. As they walked Galudis took in each Astartes he was making a mental not of each and every legion he saw doing rough numbers within his head before reaching a startling conclusion. Though there were more Astartes from the legions that turned they were in fact outnumbered, greatly outnumbered if Galudis was correct, by three to one. “We are here.” Rashidi indicated to the bulk head before them. Galudis looked up and stumbled backwards slightly at the sight before him, he was standing before the Navigators chamber. Thought something was off about not only the bulk head but the chamber beyond. Galudis could feel it pressing down on his mind, a dark and truly malevolent force. Then it suddenly struck him. If he could feel this force pressing upon his mind and he wasn’t even a psyker, it was no wonder Rashidi had felt it. “Cousin, what happened here?” Galudis asked placing an armoured gauntlet upon the open bulk head. “Nothing but debased butchery.” Rashidi spat. “This is not the worst of it, The Navigator was reduced to little more than chunks of meat.” “Who could have done this?!” Galudis shot Rashidi an astonished look. “That I am unsure of, the Wolves aboard seem content to blame either you and your Brothers or Saevus and his World Eaters.” Rashidi responded taking a step into the Navigators chamber beckoning Galudis to follow. ----------------------------------- Upon the Edge of Ponyville home to six special mares that time and time again had saved Equestria time and time again, never asking for anything in return lies a small clubhouse belonging to three rather special fillies. Three fillies that have yet to find their special talents, with such a large positive outlook on life these three fillies were set upon a path to truly discover their destinies. But tonight they have a more simple and pure motive to meeting within their clubhouse, something they have not done together for some months they are having a sleepover. A simple and innocent thing in which they often brainstorm new ideas to obtain their cutie-marks, these three young fillies have partaken in many acts or as they like to call them ‘crusades’ to gain their cutie-marks and so far each one has proved futile. “Ah think we shud try apple buckin’!” Applebloom, a small yellow Earth pony with a rich red main held in place by a red bow explained excitedly. “You’re only suggesting that since you can’t think of anything else.” Chastised Scootaloo, a small orange Pegasus with a messy purple main. “I mean you live on Sweet Apple Acres I would have thought it’d be one of the first things you would have tried!” “well yer but ah was thinkin’ about you two.” Applebloom replied, a sheepish grin upon her lips. “And it has nothing to do with the fact Apple buck season starts tomorrow?” Scootaloo asked being suspicious of her Earth pony friend “Oh allrite!” Apllebloom huffed. “Ah was tryin’ tah gat yall to halp.” Scootaloo giggled at her friends response, her little wings flapping as she laughed. “It’s fine Applebloom, if you needed help, we’d be glad to.” Scootaloo said with a heart warming smile upon her lips. “Who knows we might get our cutie marks in being helpful right Sweetie Belle?” “Huh?” Sweetie Belle turned around having been taken by surprise by |Scootaloo addressing her. “Sorry girls I was just looking at the stars.” “Why’d ya do somin’ like that?” Applebloom questioned. “Well...” Sweetie began looking down at her hooves. “This might sound silly but I have always wondered what is out there?” “Like what?” Scootaloo asked curios to hear what her friend thought was out in space. “I dunno...” Sweetie Belle tapped a hoof to her chin thinking “Maybe some sort of small green pony on two legs, and go to other planets to take them over.” “Nah I bet they are giants buy like ants and spiders!” Scootaloo exclaimed, getting rapped up in the new convocation “Well Ah think they mite be worms that live in someponys stomach, and use huge hula hoops to travel tah different worlds!” Applebloom interjected smiling “Or they could be made of metal and transform into things like trains and carriages!” Sweetie shouted getting excited herself. “No I got it!” Scottaloo yelled jumping up and down on the spot. “Go on then Scoots what is it?” Sweetie belle asked excited to her what her friend had to say. “I bet they are tall, like as tall as the princesses and have two brains! One in brain their head and another brain in their hands and are really peaceful!” Both Sweetie Belle and Applebloom nodded in agreement, soon all three fillies were eagerly discussing what meeting Aliens would be like in only the way a child could. Soon there talking turned back to the topic of gaining their cutie marks and how cool it would be if they received a cutie marks in alien discovery, or perhaps being ambassadors to aliens. Soon the talk died down as the night drew on, each filly began to grown tired their bodies slowly wishing for sleep. It was with great reluctance that they decided to blow out the candle light of their clubhouse and snuggle down into the sleep bags they had brought with them and finally go to bed. As they snuggled into their sleeping bags in unison they began to gently sing the song they had composed for the schools talent show a few years ago, though unlike then. Were it had been rather painful for the audience to endure they wisely stuck to the chorus letting Sweetie Belle do most of the actual singing.* “We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders On a quest to find out who we are And we will never stop the journey Not until we have our cutie marks... With the final word sung each filly drifted off into a peaceful slumber, their dreams filled with the wonders of meeting visitors from the stars. Small smiles stuck upon their faces as they dreamt, each one hoping they would get to meet them and that the visitors would be friendly. --------------------------------------- Upon entering the chamber Galudis was met with the site of several other Legionnaires standing around the mutilated corpses of several servitors and the Navigator, each Legionnaire hailed from a different Legion and each was the highest ranked among their respective Legionnaires aboard the Waning Moon. Galudis did note two Legions were missing but this was to be expected, for the two legions in question had only three survivors between them, though not fully functional Astartes like Galudis; Rashidi and their fellows within the chamber. They were instead Astartes who had suffered grievous wounds in previous battles. Battles fought long before the Warmaster turned his back upon his father, these warriors were entombed within the armoured life support devices of the Dreadnaughts. “This is a waste of time!” Snarled Ivar Frostbreak, his leather skull cap gripping his bestial head tightly, his teeth bared like a feral beast. Like most of his Brothers of the sixth Legion, The Space Wolves, they were nothing but barbarians in the truest sense of the word and like all his kind Ivar was no different in all but one aspect. He was a Pysker or as the Wolves called them a Rune priest. “Be silent Wolf!” Rashidi spat in all but disgust at him, a disgust born form the Wolves hypocrisy for it was widely known the Wolves were one of the main reasons for the Edict of Nikaea being issued yet they themselves didn’t comply, simply claiming their Rune Priests were not psykers but sons of the storm. “You dare command me maleficarum?!” Ivar challenged, his voice filled with disgust and hate as he turned to face Rashidi. “A son of the storm takes no orders from your ilk!” “This is neither the time nor the places for you two to dispute your differences, save for another time!” A deep flat metallic tone echoes forth from a nearby Legionnaire of the fourth legion, The Iron Warriors, and the only surviving Techmarine amongst all Legionnaires aboard stepped fourth. “We are here to assess whether the claims that you!” The Iron warriors jabbed a finger towards Ivar. “Have levelled against Sergeant Saevus and his World Eaters.” He then motioned with his head towards an Astartes clad in white power armour trimmed with blue being held back by two gigantic Astartes in the livery of the Deathshroud, The honour Guard to Mortarion. “And Marshal Galudis and his Sons of Horus.” “That’s Luna Wolves!” Galudis snapped. “Don’t you ever compare us to that... that curds loyal dogs!” “I meant no disrespect.” The iron Warrior raised his hands in a placating gesture “But the point still stand that one Legion is at fault here, be it you Luna Wolves or the World Eaters.” “And what evidence does this wolf bring against us!” Galudis snorted glaring at Ivar Frostbreak his arms folded across his breastplate. “This Wolf” Ivar responded with smoothing like a contemptuous sneer “has found records of a warrior wielding a chain weapon breaking into this chamber, and only you and the World Easters have them!” “Such proof is inconsequential.” Galudis snapped. “You expect me to believe that biased on the soul fact the navigator was murdered by a chain weapon that me, my Brothers or Saevus and his World Eaters are guilty!” “He does not only have what you see before you Galudis.” A black armoured battle brother stepped forward, wearing a set of jet black mark four Maximus Power Armour, there was no mistaking which Legion the Astartes belonged to. This was further punctuated by the winged dagger icon he bore upon his right Pualdron; it marked him as one of the Dark Angels, the first legion created by the Emperor. “Ivar has brought evidence of treachery in visual format.” The dark Angel extended his hand revealing a portable hololith capsule, as the Dark Angel readied it to display further proof of someone treachery Saevus broke free of the two Deathshrouds grip and stormed towards Ivar and the Dark Angel. “You dare imply I would partake in such a barbaric action!” Saevus’s words were filled with the purest rage and hatred of a scorned warrior. “You think I am little more than a simple barbarian! Who knows not his own fury?!” Saevus thrust an armoured gauntlet into the Dark Angels chest; this action caused the few other dark angels within the chamber to raise their bolters aiming squarely for Saevus. “I do dare Saevus!” The Dark Angel roared matching the berserkers fury. “It seems you are the short sighted barbarian I took you for! This is not about your honour it is about loyalty and remaining true to it! Now stand down and face the evidence levelled against you!” Saevus snorted completely unparsed by the Dark Angels threat. “Call for some more of your secretive ilk Naaman and I might just take you seriously!” “Saevus calm down.” Galudis placed his left hand upon Saevus right Pualdron gently moving him back, as to defuse the tension between the Astartes. “We do not want more bloodshed between the Legions.” Both Naaman and Saevus nodded in agreement backing away from each other. “Now, Naaman show us this evidence of yours.” Galudis gestured for Naaman nodded, before turning on the hololith beaming an image into the air above their heads. To the horror of all but Ivar Naaman and his Dark Angels came the image of a fully power armoured Astartes. The Astartes was hacking and slashing his way into the Navigators chamber, the warrior hacked and thrashed ripping it open letting out a throaty roar before sprinting inside the chamber. Naaman shifted the hololith’s view to inside the chamber as the Astartes gripped a chain axe tightly in his hands. “THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!” to the surprise of every Astartes it was Rashidi who had shouted out in shock and horror. But the recording was not finished, for it went onto show the Astartes hack his way through not only the Servitors attending to the Navigator but the pleading and frail form of the Navigator. Slowly the figure raised its armoured head looking directly into the sensor head that had captured his gruesome betrayal; almost as if it was an afterthought the Astartes drew the bolt pistol upon his left thigh and fired cutting the recording. Naaman drew his power maul and pointed it towards Saevus, his voice filled with conviction. “For the record let the colours of the killer be known. He wears the white and blue of the twelfth legion, so I name Saevus and his warrior’s traitor!”