Rainbow Dash
Rainbow let out a screeching laugh through blood soaked lips as Eethron made yet another incision in her flesh, straining against the thick straps that held her down on the table. She had been here for almost three hours now, the pain long since giving way to pleasure as it always did. She had lost count of the number of times she had been in Eethron’s lab in the years she had been in Commoragh, each time coming away with new additions to her ever-growing collection of augmentations, some easily visible, some less so.
“It saddens me to say, Dash, but we are almost done,” Eethron muttered after taking a sip from a crystal glass filled with a strange purple liquid, sighing contently as he savoured the taste, before getting back to work. “You are perhaps one of my favourite subjects to work on, plus my most willing.”
“Well I’ve paid you enough,” Rainbow grimaced. “How many souls is it now? Even with our deal it’s got to be a lot.”
“I lose count,” Eethron chuckled. “Enough to secure a regeneration pod though.”
“I’m not Eldar, wouldn’t work.” Rainbow’s words were punctuated with another bout of pained laughter as Eethron brought a cauterizer down over the latest incision, before a pair of Wracks released Rainbow from the table, helping her to her hooves.
“So…what was it this time, Eethron?” Rainbow chuckled, looking over her body for visible changes. “Not that I don’t like our arrangement for free upgrades in exchange for you poking and prodding me…”
She trailed off, looking at Eethron expectantly. Instead of replying instantly however, the ancient Haemonculus waved his hand at the two Wracks, dismissing them with an unspoken command, before producing a knife and holding it out to Rainbow.
“Humour me, and cut your skin.”
“The point of this?” Rainbow asked sceptically, bringing the knife across her foreleg, just above her claws without so much as a flinch.
“That wound, would take days to fade away before,” Eethron murmured, taking the knife back from Rainbow as the Wrack’s brought over a trembling slave, the woman barely more than skin and bones, a feeding pack strapped directly to her exposed spine, giving her enough nutrients to survive without any of the sustenance that came from food. “But, if I have succeeded, and I rarely fail…”
Eethron brought the knife across the woman’s chest with an artisan’s precision, the scream telling Rainbow he had sliced directly into several nerve clusters. It was not just the sound that hit Rainbow however, as something physical swept over her, causing her newest cuts and scars to burn intensely, before fading with the same speed. When she looked down, she could see that her wounds had already started to knit themselves back together with a speed that Rainbow had only ever seen in other Dark Eldar.
“What did you do this time?” Rainbow breathed softly, still staring at her leg.
“I created the first Dark Equine,” Eethron smiled, nodding slowly as the slave was dragged away, still screaming. “Many would not approve of this, but…”
“When have you ever cared about that,” Rainbow snorted. “What did you do?”
“Replaced organs, blood, plasma, a little brain tissue, with some provided from those who have displeased my Covern. But all you care about is the outcome I am sure, and the outcome is, you share our kinds affinity for pain. It will, to a lesser extent, sustain you, empower you, bring you back from the brink of destruction. It will even allow you take a place in my Covern’s rejuvenation pods, although at a much slower pace, and I’m sure you understand, a much higher cost.”
“This is insane. I thought you said the most you could do was make me feel the pain of people. But this…” Rainbow chuckled slowly. “And I’ll put it to good use, that I assure you.”
“I’m sure you will,” Eethron nodded. “Now, you have a race to prepare for, do you not? I expect you to do the Triumvent Proud in the Torn Scar open, I would hate to see all the time I’ve put into you go to waste.”
“They won’t know what hit them,” Rainbow growled, baring her sharpened teeth, before flapping her wings and shooting out of the laboratory, wheeling across the dark skies of Commoragh.
Eethron watched her go with a faint smile, before turning to face one of his Wracks, holding out a glass vial containing three equine teeth suspended in an anti-gravity field.
“Take this to my private chamber’s rejuvenation pod. I have a special project in mind for this.”
***
Rainbow’s landing sent slaves scattering as they scurried to get as far away from her as possible, while also avoiding the imposing figure of Gilda. Most opted to run past Scootaloo, the fuchsia mare regarding them with the same glazed expression that she had worn since Spitfire and Lightning had been taken as slaves.
She barely spoke anymore, ate only what was required to keep her in fighting form, and had never once graced the sands when it wasn’t a direct order. Rainbow and Gilda on the other hoof were now almost as much of an attraction on the sands off their jetbikes as they were on them. While they weren’t on the sands as much as a Wych, they had clocked far more hours than any other Reaver in the Cult.
“Get back to work!” Rainbow screeched, the slaves whimpering as they tried to both complete their assigned tasks and stay out of easy reach of Rainbow, Gilda or any of the other Reavers in the garage.
“Interesting time at Eethron’s?” Gilda asked, stepping away from her own jetbike, the remodelled vehicle barely looking anything like her old monster.
"I'm surprised you didn’t hear me from here,” Rainbow snorted. “The pain was palpable, delicious. I can feel it more now, like they do,” she gestured towards one of the Dark Eldar. “It’s beautiful.”
“Maybe I should get myself down there,” Gilda chuckled back.
“You’ve said that every time I’ve come back, and you still haven’t,” Rainbow pointed out. “One of these days you’ll see sense.”
“You can’t improve on perfection,” Gilda snorted.
“Eethron can. Eethron can improve on anything,” Rainbow’s voice was cutting as she headed over towards her own jetbike, the slave working on it bowing deeply as she hurried backwards.
Unlike the others, this slave was not a cowering wreck of a woman, and still had some form of dignity in her hunched walk. Rainbow had taken her almost two years ago in a raid on a human planet outside of the Imperium, and since then she had served as Rainbow’s personal slave, and was the only slave permitted to touch her Jetbike. In return for her tireless service, Rainbow ensured her safety from the other members of the Cult and the Triumvent as a whole, as well as providing her with better food. She had even permitted her to carry a small knife to defend herself from jealous slaves who hated her for her elevated position. The handle currently had seventeen notches, one more than when Rainbow had left for Eethron’s lab.
“So then Kas, how’s my bike?” Rainbow asked, placing her claws on the saddle and staring at the slave.
“It will fly true, Mistress,” Kas replied quickly, keeping her eyes lowered as she spoke. “I made a small adjustment to the secondary compression tube, you should be able to use the afterburner point zero four percent more than before. I also polished the front armour plates to a shine, as you like, air resistance will be as low as is possible, Mistress.”
“Good. Good girl,” Rainbow nodded with a fanged smile. “And my other two slaves? How are they faring?”
“Spitfire refused to eat again, I used the feeding tube again, the barbed one that you like,” Kas answered hurriedly. “Her stomach’s distended considerably, I know you enjoy the pain that causes. Lightning is still recovering from your last session with her, but nothing you’ve done will cause death. All their wounds have been cleaned, they’re ready for you.”
“Perfect as always,” Rainbow nodded. “Go and get yourself some food, then continue with your tasks.”
“Yes, Mistress. Of course, Mistress,” Kas bowed deeply again, before hurrying out of the garage, the slaves getting out of her way almost as quickly as they got out of Rainbow’s or Gilda’s way.
“You give that thing too much freedom,” one of the Reaver’s called over from his own jetbike, his voice amplified by the mask he wore.
“Voice that opinion again, and I promise you you’ll get less,” Rainbow snarled backwards, before jumping onto her bike and gunning the engine, shooting out onto the arena floor to test the modifications, almost thirty other Reavers following her lead, powering up their guns and whooping in anticipation for what was to come.
***
“Louder!” Rainbow roared as she slammed her claws into Spitfire’s stomach, the mare letting out a spluttering cough, blood running down her ruined gums as she recoiled from the blow. True to Kas’s word, Spitfire’s stomach had distended from the forced feeding, sending agonising cramps through her body whenever it was struck, along with the pain of the actual blow. “Scream louder for me! Beg for it to stop!”
Rainbow was back in her quarters after the day’s training, readying herself for the Torn Scar Open that was due to happen tomorrow. Everything hinged on that race, years and years of planning and killing, all leading up to this moment. Far from getting a early night though, Rainbow was intent to find out exactly what Eethron had done to her, and that meant torturing her two favourite meatbags.
Both Spitfire and Lightning were chained up, forced onto the hind legs as cruel barbs punctured their fore hooves, pulling them towards the ceiling. Blood was splattered across the bare floor, stopping well before Rainbow’s actual quarter’s, making sure that the extravagant room was not tainted with the blood, only the smell and the moans. Only the faintest of haze’s gave away the forcefield that separated the two sections of the room, keyed to only stop those who were implanted with a spinal chip, such as the one in both Spitfire and Lightning.
“Leave her alone!” Lightning roared in defiance, struggling against her chains and beating her wings weakly, trying to find any way to help her friend. “Why not pick on me you bitch?!”
“Because it’s far more fun to break you without touching you,” Rainbow shot back, taking a sudden step towards Lightning and sending the pony reeling in fear. “Good meat, now stay quiet, or I’ll sew your mouth closed again.”
Lightning instantly fell silent after that threat, the colour draining from her mouth as she remembered the last time Rainbow had done that. It had been almost a week before she had got them unsealed again. The time before that had been two weeks.
“Now, where were we?” Rainbow asked brightly, turning back to face Spitfire with a smile on her face. “Oh yes, that’s right, I was pointing out your stomach. Do you remember what I said would happen if Kas had to use that feeding tube again?”
“R-R-Rainbow…p-please,” Spitfire choked, tars of pain rolling down her face. “Y-You c-can’t.”
“I can’t?” Rainbow scoffed, reaching over to grab a wickedly sharp knife before getting right into Spitfire’s face and bellowing, covering the mare in spittle. “I can’t?! Who’s going to stop me?! You?! Lightning?! Do you remember what I said or not?!”
“Rainbow…” Spitfire began.
“Do you?!” Rainbow cut in, her eyes wide with bloodlust.
“M-my wings,” Spitfire all but whispered.
“Say it louder, I want everyone to hear it,” Rainbow snarled.
“My wings!” Spitfire screeched, tears rolling down her cheeks in earnest now. “For Celestia’s sake Rainbow, if there’s anything left of the mare I knew, don’t do this!”
“Rainbow! Don’t!” Lightning roared again, struggling against the chains once more, her own fear forgotten.
“Shut up,” Rainbow sneered, before looking over to Lightning. “And I warned you too, you’d think you would learn not to test me. I think a month this time, how does that sound?”
“Please…don’t do this, Rainbow,” Spitfire whispered.
“Tell you what,” Rainbow smiled, getting close to Spitfire and whispering back. “I won’t take your wings. Ever. You have my word on that, you understand?”
“T-T-Thank you,” Spitfire sobbed, her head sagging as her shoulders heaved.
“I’ll just take a wing,” Rainbow sneered, bringing the knife down on the joint of the right wing, cutting deep into the tissue and muscle, before grabbing hold with both claws and pulling.
The screams from Spitfire echoed through the arena long into the night, and long after Rainbow was finished. On her part, the rainbow maned mare slept peacefully, the screams and muffled ‘mpppphhhss’ from Lightning’s sewed up lips helping her drift to sleep.
***
It was a strangely therapeutic series of movements to prepare for a race. The skin-tight suit hugged Rainbow’s body perfectly as she tensed and flexed each one of her muscle groups in turn, making sure that no movement would cause the suit to pull in any location.
In a race at this level, everything came down to the tiniest of fractions. A quarter of a second’s extra afterburner could mean the difference between a victory and crashing into the arena wall. A piece of the race suit pulling a single hair out of the skin could cause a minute lack of concentration that another racer could exploit. When things came down to such a level, everything had to be planned for and negated before the racer got anywhere near their bike, or the race would be your last.
Rainbow did not plan for this race to be her last.
“Kas, final check and then warm the engine,” Rainbow ordered, running her claws across her smooth face, watching in silence as Kas dragged the kicking and screaming slave over, before slitting his throat and directing the spray of blood over the engine. It had been Rainbow’s unique trait for years, the smell of boiling blood on her engine letting the crowd know exactly who was racing.
With the final preparations complete, Rainbow mounted the bike, before rising out of the Torn Scar’s garage, emerging into the light of the arena to the sound of thousands of cheering, screaming voices.
“Welcome racers!” the announcer roared over the vox-system. “For six years, you have trained yourselves, tested yourselves, honed your skills until every inch of your body has achieved perfection in the racing world. Now, everything you have prepared for will be put to the test. The track is laid out before you, do not deviate from it, or you will find yourselves on the razor shards of the sand. The arena’s weapons are linked to your bikes, the slowest racer must dodge their fire, as well as that of the other racers. The race ends when only one remains. Let the blood flow! Begin!”
Rainbow gunned the engine, forcing her bike to its fullest speed to ensure the dark lances that were already springing to life didn’t target her. The other racers had similar ideas, doing their best to outdo each other as the weapons began to fire, spitting out punishing streams of unlight, forcing the racers to jink and roll as they hurtled round the track.
For almost a full lap, none of the racers fired, jostling for position to avoid the guns while learning the layout of the track, but that soon changed, Rainbow forcing her bike into a spinning barrel roll, maintaining her speed, but adding to the distance travelled, and allowing another racer to shoot in front of her. In a split second, Rainbow was on him, her visor sending her all the targeting data she needed as she let her Jetbikes weapons add to the roar of the arena’s, shredding the pilot and his bike in a hail of poisoned splinters.
The pain washed over Rainbow, heightening her senses as she weaved around the crashing jetbike, shooting off to put some distance between herself and the next racer. While she couldn’t win this race through pure speed, staying ahead of the pack meant that they would thin each other out, making it easier for Rainbow to kill off the survivors. It may have meant less direct killing, but for once, Rainbow didn’t mind that, this race was too important for such distractions.
As she predicted, the tactic worked, keeping her unmolested for over half an hour, the roars of the crowd and sudden screams of delight keeping her informed of what was going on, the subtle differences in pitch and intensity informing her what was a near miss, and what was a particularly visceral kill.
Thirty three minutes after the race had begun, Rainbow was left with only one competitor, the Dark Eldar speeding round the track to catch up with her, intent on finishing her off from behind. Rainbow had other plans.
Opening all the aerofoils on her bike, Rainbow cut her speed in half, spinning the bike as she did so to face directly at her oncoming opponent and speeding towards him, making sure to cut her speed to below his.
As expected, the guns turned to face her, matching her speed to get a lock, before firing just as Rainbow activated her drug injector, slowing her perception of time to a crawl. The Dark Lances spat out yet more punishing beams, Rainbow forcing her bike to rolled around them as she drew her sword and dived as close to the arena floor as she could, thrusting her sword upwards.
Even with the swords power field active, hitting the jetbike still felt like it was going to rip her claw clean off, even as it passed through the bike, sending the pilot flying forward, his arms flailing as he sought to gain some control of his fall.
He never got the chances before a dark lance beam aimed at where Rainbow had been passed through his head, the rest of his body vaporising from contact with the stream of Darklight, the guns falling silent as the crowd erupted into screams of elation, Rainbow adding her own voice to the crowd as she flicked the bike into auto pilot mode before jumping onto the saddle, throwing her claws into the air.
Six years of planning and killing, six years of Commoragh, soon it would be over.
“I give you, the winner of the Torn Scar Open! Leader of the Shadowbolts! Member of the Triumvent of Half-Formed Hope! Champion of the Torn Scar! Ladies and Gentlemen! Dash!”