ENTRY BEGINS. 2nd YEAR OF THE GRAND AGE OF EQUESTRIA
Primarch Furious Storm-Qrow watched the remaining elements of the Scarred Swords' Sixth Company return to the Excalibur to rearm and prepare to join their battle brothers at this 'Manehatten', before returning to the Equestrian command tent and sitting down. He didn't know why, but whenever he heard that name mentioned his gut would cringe horribly, as if someone had just dropped a tortured pun during a funeral service.
Regardless of these personal... issues, Qrow couldn't help but wish that the Tech Priests and Techmarines of his ship could get more Thunderhawks operational as soon as possible. The longer a Chaotic incursion remained in any location, the more powerful it became by orders of magnitude. He would personally see to it that the ruinous powers would never gain such traction on this world, not so long as he stood upon it.
For now, however, he remained with Tenth Company and the Equestrian force in the shadow of one of Humanity's finest warships. With that thought in mind, he came to the simple conclusion that being in its shadow was no where near as safe as being within its dozens of meters of armoured and shielded hull. But will the Equestrians even accept such an offer? Would I?
He remembered the day that his Father, The Emperor Of Mankind, had discovered him. He had been the Hunter King of the Knight's Nobilis Order and their mighty World Fleet, ruler of billions of souls spread across fifteen City-Ships, chiefest and greatest of all their warriors and Admiral of a great fleet of warships. His own flagship had been the Horizon Chaser, a mighty vessel built by the Order from the finest materials to be found on the perfect world of Gaia and the rarest of artefacts, preserved by the group following the end of the Dark Age of Technology and the beginning of the Age of Strife. Nine miles long, with a width of a mile and a beam equal to that - The Horizon was a solid black pitchfork of a vessel, a shape created by its pointed bow and the two great engine housings that sprouted from its rear like fork points. Prioritising function over fashion it possessed very little adornments, unlike many of the other ships of the fleet, both civilian and military. Instead, it was a massed array of macro cannons, lances and missile batteries all contained in a thickly armoured adamantite hide and surrounded by powerful void shields.
To Qrow it was a masterwork of void engineering, unsurpassed by any ship in any respect.
And then The Emperor had arrived. Excalibur dwarfed the Horizon completely and entirely. It's armament was vastly heavier, its armour was both tougher and thicker, possessed quintuple the number of void shields and even had better acceleration than the Nobilis' masterpiece despite its stupendously greater mass. But this was not what had stunned the Lord of Blades, at least not initially. He'd been blown away by its visual grandeur alone, the perfect fusion of practicality and aesthetic adornment. Battlements lined with the gaping maws of dragons, with weaponry protruding from them like tongues of metal. Towering augar spires, topped with golden statues of proud and noble warriors. Prow, resplendent and bladed but also playing host to eight internally mounted Nova Cannons. The vessel's name suited it well, for it was a weapon who's legend was told both by its immense power and its glorious appearance.
Qrow hadn't even needed to meet his father before accepting that he was superior, his ship alone proved it. The primarch even said as much during their first meeting and after a fierce duel between the two that took no less than three days to eventually end, The Emperor had bestowed the ship upon the victorious Hunter King, along with the Second Legion contained within it. Of course more had been exchanged between the two than an introduction and a lengthy combat. But the brief recollection had answered his question; he would.
So, to that end, he wondered if they were just as awed by the mighty vessel as he still was, terrified of its immensity or laughing at its current state. He pondered if their leader would do as he had done all those centuries ago, would she enter this ship peacefully with arms laid low and mind open? In the end, their opinions and wants meant very little to him - he would respect their sovereignty and jurisdiction for now, but he would not be spending any more time away from his home.
With his mind made up he opened his eyes and raised his head to take in the scene before him. Celestia and her entourage sat across from him at the wide, round table over which they had been discussing brief histories and deliberating boundaries, prior to the departure of the Imperial Army and the Sixth Company to Manehatten.
The group of younger princesses, military leaders and glorified civilians were crowded tightly around the Solar Diarch, all trying to speak at once and all having their own separate conversations. The lead pony herself was silent, eyes fixed in a thousand mile stare, jaw clenching and unclenching continuously, and a distinct wash of heat emanated from her in sweltering waves.
She hadn't reacted to her subjects and 'fellows' once while they had been talking at her in various degrees of panic, their concerns not even eliciting a twitch from her. But when the living mountain of an alicorn sitting across from her moved, so did she. As his head rose, hers rose with it - bringing her own light-magenta eyes to meet his stellar orbs, a sight she still couldn't quite comprehend. The others present noticed the two Demigods rousing and quickly fell silent as they fixed each other with stone faced stares.
"I will be returning to my ship now." Qrow declared evenly, his voice quiet by typical Primarch standards but still more akin to the deep rumble of distant rolling thunder than the voice of a sentient being. The princess said nothing as he donned his helm and rose to his hooves, simply continuing to watch as he returned to his full, towering, quadrupedal height. The words that left his vox speaker next, however, did get a surprised reaction from her and others present at the time; "You and your forces are welcome to join me. In fact, I openly advise that you do, as your safety is more difficult for us to guarantee beyond the Excalibur's protective walls."
The display of reactions he got from the ponies across the table were, suffice to say, mixed. The youngest princess' face lit up like a lascannon at the prospect, her brother's expression went the opposite way, darkening into a defensive and suspicious scowl. The Princess of Love's face cycled through several of the emotional ranges, fear and wariness interwoven with visages of hope an wonder - it was clear she felt how exposed they were out here but she was just cautious of the Imperials as her husband. The other 'Element Bearers', as Qrow had heard them be referred to by the Royals, chattered quietly to each other, some expressing great enthusiasm and others very much not.
But, as ever, the Primarch sidelined all of the aforementioned minor opinions and focused purely on the thoughts and feelings of the leader. Celestia, to her credit, had a remarkable poker face - all her own emotions and ideas hidden beneath a stone-cold mask of indifference. But a fool the Blade Lord was not and he could see the same conflict raging on Cadenza's face was also occurring within her auntie's mind, her eyes twitching from side to side like she was reading from a detailed list of pros and cons held before her. The act of repressing a reaction was a reaction in itself, one that told Qrow he as dealing with an experienced diplomat and leader. After about a minute of silent thought, the large mare sighed and once again met the larger stallion's gaze.
"Do you have sufficient facilities to house my ponies? I'd rather not have them sleeping in corridors and on battlements."
"Princess!" the young Prince Armor exclaimed in a harsh whisper, leaning towards his leader to get into her view. "You can't be serious." Celestia let out another sigh as she turned to give her nephew-in-law a firm look, while she understood and respected Shining's reservations, they couldn't afford them at that time. With Luna out on the battlefront, the rest of them should be in a place of safety - should worse come to worst, she needed to ensure the survival of as many of her family members as possible.
"I know you are not in favour of this, Prince Shining Armor." the young stallion seemed to shrink as his leader and princess addressed him with his full title and name, in the way a child might if their mother were to do the same. "But as it stands, these... 'Imperials' know what it is we're facing and as such are more prepared to deal with it should it attack us. If we are to protect your wife, your sister and your child we must put faith in their experience and, by extension, their defences."
"But..." his argument died in his throat, as his brain found itself unable to formulate one. Everything Celestia had said was correct and he had no intention of allowing any harm to come to his family and friends. If keeping them safe meant giving that responsibility to a group of ponified space monkeys, then so be it.
"The Excalibur has an Imperial Army barrack block free. It sacrifices comfort for capacity, but it should prove adequate." Qrow answered Celestia's question as if her conversation with the other pony hadn't even occurred, receiving a nod from her in return.
"Very well then." she began, rising to her own hooves and replacing her armour plates using her magic - a feat Qrow was still cautiously fascinated by, the very nature of Equestrian magic and its inherent separation from Warp Energies was certainly something that piqued his interests. "The Equestrian Royal Family and our armies accept your offer of refuge, but know that we still have much to discuss before we will consider making you allies of the nation."
"As you wish." the Primarch answered nonchalantly, at this point simple compliance was all he needed of these ponies. He turned and began to make for the tent opening flap, covering the dozen-or-so hoof-steps distance in only four strides and reaching to push the covering aside. "My forces will assemble at the entrance of the Excalibur, ensure all your ponies are behind us - lest they'll be crushed by the boarding ramp."
And with that said, Furious Storm-Qrow stepped out of the Equestrian War Tent and into the baking mid-day sunlight.
When Princess Luna and her personal guards stepped into the battered loyalist Equestrian camp, a great ripple of activity spread through it and all able members of its one hundred and two inhabitants flocked to her in a tide of cheers and overjoyed sobbing. Young foals swarmed around and clung to their hooves, adult mares and stallions practically buried their heads into the ground in desperate attempts to bow lower and what precious few Royal Guards present raised their hooves and proud yet exhausted salutes. The Lunar Guard returned the gesture wholeheartedly, while the Princess herself knelt low to greet and comfort the children crowded below her.
It was an odd spectacle for Dragoon to watch, the way these refugees approached one of their Royals and openly embraced her in such a familiar manner. Astartes were too feared, even by those they stood to protect, to be greeted in such a way and the Primarchs were venerated to such a degree that many were too afraid to even go near them, let alone touch them with their mortal fingers. And yet, here these ponies were weeping into the fur coat of their Moon Princess as if she were a long lost family member they were seeing for the first time.
"A curious culture..." the Lord Captain mused to himself as he watched the display with his own troops, still with blood and flesh chunks dripping off their battle-plate.
"Lord?" Lieutenant Enart called to the lead Astartes, drawing his attention towards him and to another stallion approaching from the rear of the crowd. When he reached them, the Equestrian offered Enart a brief nod before turning to take in the captain's appearance, his tired eyes darting around - scrutinising his weapons, armour and all the gore he was still covered in. Dragoon did the same, eyeing the pale blue horn that sprouted from the pony's head especially. Besides that there was little else that he cared to take notice of, other than the fact that the pony before him looked exceptionally worn out, with large bags under his eyes and a rather slouched posture.
"Equestrian Royal Guard Captain; Dusty Skies." the stallion eventually said, raising his right hoof to the astartes and offering a small smile in greeting. He sounded as exhausted as he looked, his voice coming out as barely more than a gravelly whisper, struggling to be heard over the excited chatter of the other ponies and the distant roar of flames. "When the Lieutenant here said he had support coming, I certainly wasn't expecting... something like you."
The Lieutenant winced slightly at the Equestrian's words, fearfully glancing at the mountain of metal and super-solider as if foreseeing a negative reaction from him. So it was to his surprise when the Space Marine let out a low chuckle in response to the stallions words and took the smaller hoof, carefully, in his own massive forelimb.
"A force of heavily armed, expertly trained super-soldiers? That would hardly be my first expectation either. Especially if it was an Imperial Army man who was telling me." one of Dragoon's warriors laughed heartily, earning a quick bout of bass snickering from his fellows. Enart felt a simultaneous wash of both relief and some mild indignation as the veteran Astartes joked among themselves at his expense - happy that his superiors weren't offended by Skies' comment, but offended himself that the situation's defusal had come from the lack of respect that the Swords had for the Imperial Army.
"Now now, brothers. Our fellows in the Army are not deserving of such ridicule." the Marine Captain growled, the cold edge in his voice cutting into all present to a degree. "They fight equally as hard as we do, their only boundary to success is a biological one, so do not hold their spirit in doubt."
"Aye, Captain!"
"I am Lord Dragoon, Captain of the Scarred Swords' Sixth Company. It is can honour to meet you fellow Dusty Skies."
"Fellow?" the Equestrian questioned, arching an eyebrow and turning to Enart for an explanation.
"It's tradition amongst the warriors of the Knights Nobilis Order. If two or more members of the Order are in conversation and they share the same rank, then they will refer to each other as 'Fellow'. It's a sign of respect and Lord Furious Storm-Qrow brought into his Legion when he took command."
"Oh. Well... thank you, fellow Dragoon." he gave the larger stallion a sincere smile as they released each other's hooves and took a breath to continue their exchange, but their attention was stolen by a sudden cry of panic and terror.
"Hey! HEY! GET OFF ME!" a young unicorn stallion wailed from the back of the crowd, desperately kicking and struggling to get himself out from under whatever was pinning him down. He had been pushed down and immobilised by a mare possessing an almost ghostly white coat, with flowing crimson ponytails and clad in resplendent red-gold armour. Sister-Commander Kerrigan Rodrias stood atop the defenceless pony, one fore-hoof pressed against his head while the other was currently hovering just above his neck. The Equestrians were justifiably quite annoyed by this transgression and some were already moving to attempt to remove the mare. But Dragoon was on the verge of letting out a roar of rage as he very quickly recognised the immense blunder the warrior mare was about to make.
Dusty Skies was just about to trot over to attempt to defuse the situation, but he hadn't even had time to blink before a gigantic flash of emerald had streaked past him. Prowl had read the Sister-Commander's battle reports and had found himself somewhat disgusted by what he'd read. Aside from the mad grin she wore when she fought, she also had the very unfortunate hobby of collecting 'trophies' from her fallen enemies. He had some vague theories about why she would lash out at this pony - she may suspect the stallion was corrupted, or perhaps a daemon spawn in disguise - but he would not let her simply do as she pleased, especially if she wished to take some souvenirs.
In the time it had taken for him to cross half the very short distance separating them she had already raised the hoof that had been over the unicorn's throat, giving it a sharp flick to unleash the gleaming pair of power claws stowed on either side of her foreleg. It was now that the horror of the situation struck the Loyalist ponies, but they could not react nearly quickly enough to stop her. But there was nothing stopping Dragoon, although it was cutting it a bit close - even for him.
He arrived next to the hellish zealot mere milliseconds before her blade would meet flesh. She locked a look of slight surprise and predatory fury on Ozonus, her reactions quick enough to perceive him as a threat and begin to dodge. But a beginning was all it was.
With speed and dexterity not befitting of a being of his physical form, the Sixth Captain lashed out at the senior Sister Of Silence with a lighting back-hoof, catching her directly on the shoulder guard. The force of the strike combined with the Astartes' vastly superior armour completely shattered her pauldron entirely, reducing it to tiny fragments that were sent flying away in multiple directions. Rodrias herself was thrown off her hooves and sent tumbling away like a doll, only stopping when she slammed into a cart around fifty yards away - temporarily becoming lodged in the wooden frame before gravity eventually pulled her free, leaving her to collapse into a heap on the trampled ground.
Time seemed to restart for all others present, with the Equestrians and Imperial Army troopers struggling to comprehend what had just happened and the Astartes struggling to believe what they had just witnessed. Even for them, striking an Officer of The Emperor Himself was unthinkable and could become a court martial offence - that usually depended heavily on the Primarch in charge.
"Are you still with me?" the Captain asked of his men as he returned to all fours, briefly glancing back at the nine members of his command squad. They were at his flanks in seconds, creating a defensive wall between the downed mare and the ponies she was a clear threat to. Consequences be damned, the warriors of the Second Legion would sooner die than leave an ally to stand alone for a good cause. Dragoon eyed the unicorn stallion who'd been attacked for a moment, as he used his magic to pick up a fedora from the earth, before retreating behind the line of Astartes into the hooves of a waiting mare. "There is no taint on him, a subject of the Ruinous Powers would have fought back for itself..." he called to the shifting Sister, his voice tone sharp and clear as his stance - between the ponies and his own 'ally'.
Rodrias audibly growled as she rose to her hooves, glaring spears at the Space Marines. Any mortal creature would have been destroyed spiritually by that scowl, by those frenzied, mismatched eyes. She appeared as furious as Luna had when she'd confronted Dragoon before their departure for this war zone. And just like then, Ozonus Prowl stood as a cold, unshakeable wall against the anger directed towards him - unmoved by the ire of the Pariah standing opposite him.
She took a step forward, eyes still wide and alight with feral intent. As she moved the crowd of ponies behind the Space Marines took a collective step back, gripped in silent terror. Luna and her guards had taken to the air, weapons bared and directed at the beast of a mare before them. The Sister-Commander let out an actual hiss, dropping low and preparing to launch herself at the closest target - Dragoon.
"NO!" but before she could another mare crashed headlong into her side, leaping out from behind the cart that Rodrias had hit. After only a brief wrestle with her leader, Sister-In-Waiting Freida Tolm was able to immobilise the Gold-clad Fury and jab a stimpack full of a deep crimson liquid into her temple. She spasmed only once, her entire body convulsing for a full second - before she went limp.
The world was almost silent after that, neglecting the cries of pain from the medical camp and the roar of the Hellblade's ever present inferno. The leaders of the Imperials and the Equestrians cautiously approached the two Sisters-Of-Silence, encircling and looking down upon them. Tolm didn't look back up at them, still breathing heavily as she continued to hold the syringe against her leader's head.
"Yet another topic to be covered..." Dragoon sighed, the vox speaker in his helm making it sound far more harsh than it was. He gave his neck a stiff *Crack*, before turning away and beginning to walk back towards the field hospital. "Kayne, tend to the Sister-Commander. The rest of you, return to the front and prepare for another attack." his command squad obeyed his orders without question, his ancient Apothecary moving towards the prone mare while the others took off at a gallop back to the trench lines.
"I thought you said this was a topic to be covered?" Luna asked sceptically but not stopping the massive doctor from hoisting the unconscious Null onto his back and carrying her off to the ranks of medics still working fervently to save lives.
"I did and we will. But not here. First, we must prepare for our next step."
"Our next step?" Dusty Skies echoed, cocking his head at the Space Marine, whom was still walking away.
"How we're going to take out that destroyer and save this city."
Jock Maintrom had just about finished familiarising himself with the control systems of the Dragon's Teeth when he heard the entrance hatch to his cramped driving space open with a deep *clunk*. The driver's cockpit was an extremely cramped affair, barely wide enough for him to spread his fore legs and certainly not tall enough for him to stand up in. It was also a very spartan room, possessing little more than the essential control column, accelerator and brakes. Other than that there was only a fuel dial, speedometer and a very basic auspex scanner. And the view port of course.
He had to turn around in his chair to face the hatch as it opened, revealing an especially weathered looking Sergeant Franklin - missing his helmet and las-sniper, and wearing a tired frown on his grizzled muzzle. The younger trooper took a breath to greet his long time superior, but was silenced when the older stallion spoke first and not to him.
"And this brings us to the last stop on our tour and the last but one stop on our meet and greet." to say that Maintrom looked confused would be an understatement more massive than the tank he sat in. His jaw hung loosely on its hinges, his eyes were wide and one of his eyebrows had shot up his forehead like a service lift. All his questions were promptly both answered and replaced when two more heads popped out from around the narrow door frame. A pair of tiny natives, small enough to sit comfortably inside the bore of the Baneblade Cannon, stared wide-eyed at Jock and the 'room' he sat in. Or, at least the slightly less small 'green one' did, the 'pink one' quickly clambered into the chamber and without so much as a word snuggled into the material that covered the young stallion's side. "Jock Maintrom..." Franklin trailed off as he watched the filly make herself comfortable and the colt join her at the driver's other side.
"Warm..." Rosy Pearl sighed as she curled up on the seat and rested her head against Maintrom's side. "Not like *yawn*... the others." and with that, both of the random infants were out like a pair of lights - snoring faintly as they finally relaxed a bit.
"Well... shit..." the Sergeant muttered, stunned by the siblings' reaction to the young trooper. "They've been cowering behind me from all the others all this time, but the moment they clap their tiny eyes on you they just climb in and fall asleep."
"Who the hell are they?!" Maintrom hissed, desperately trying to flail his upper limbs without disturbing the two foals. "And why are they... stifling me?!"
"Beats me, kid." the old soldier shrugged, offering a drained chuckle as he gave the other stallion a pat on the shoulder. "All I know is; they just watched their mother slowly bleed to death, can't stand being around the Loyalty Master or the Tech Priest and apparently like you. Maybe it's your age, the fact that you aren't covered in blood or maybe it's because they think you look like a soft pillow."
"I..." his young subordinate tried to respond, but his words died in his throat as those he'd been told began to sink in. It was no wonder children wanted nothing to do with something like a Loyalty Master or a Tech Priest, both were stone cold and all but heartless. And he supposed it was nice to have some company that wasn't either trying to kill him or trying to get him to kill himself.
"They won't disrupt your ability to drive?" Franklin asked sternly, shifting back into 'command mode' and donning a serious expression.
"No... No, Sir."
"Good. I'll head up to the Command station, take a headcount, then we'll be rolling out."
"Ah, sir?" Maintrom called out before his leader left, making ready to ask the question that had been nagging in his mind since he'd seen the lone war machine. "Where are we going to be driving? I mean... there aren't many places to drive to in this building."
"Good question, Private." came the reply as a wide grin spread across Sergeant Franklin's muzzle. There was a wild glint in his eye as he gave the answer, clearly very excited about it for some reason. "We'll be driving out of that."
Maintrom followed the old trooper's extended hoof, his own, rather dull, eyes tracking around to look out of the driver's view port and straight at... The Hole. His ears flattened against his skull and his jaw dropped like a stone as his mind finally wrapped itself around his leader's crazy-stupid-lunatic plan. He whipped around to begin protesting, but found the space in the entry hatch that Franklin had been occupying was now devoid of him, the veteran seemingly having disappeared entirely. He next considered not going through with the nincompoop scheme, but the presence of a Loyalty Master aboard the vehicle made that option literal suicide - at least with the Sergeant's plan he had a chance of surviving, Baneblades could survive multistory drops, right?
"Hey." a little voice piped up from Maitrom's side, pulling his attention to the sea-green Earth-Pony colt sitting there and looking up at him almost indignantly. Jock simply stared at the little male, arching an eyebrow at him as he simply stared straight back.
"What?"
"Whaddo' those thingies on the floor do?" the small pony demanded, pointing at the brake and accelerator pedals with a forelimb. He was going to scoff in response, what self respecting Imperial didn't know an accelerator peddle when they saw one, but quickly remembered that this child was no Imperial and that the Equestrians had no self powered land vehicles. He also doubted calling them the 'brake' and 'accelerator' respectively would mean much to the juvenile equine.
"That's the go pedal." he sighed and pointed to said object, sure that the Tech Priest was going to be as close as he could to mortified at what he'd just called the holy instrument of the Omnissiah. "And that's the stopper."
"What's that for?" the little pink ball of fluff on his other side suddenly piped up, causing him to nearly jump clean out of his fur as he could have sworn that she'd fallen asleep. She was pointing at the control column, a pair of articulated handles affixed to a fully extended rod that protruded from the dashboard. When the handles were pushed forward and gas was applied, power was sent to the tracks - with each handle controlling the tracks of their side, left handle for left tracks and right handle for the right tracks. However, this would all be a bit beyond the two tiny ponies enclosing him on either side, so, once again, he found himself simplifying its function to a ludicrous degree.
"Steering stick." the little ponies looked like they were about to ask more questions, their wide eyes scanning all over the cramped space looking for more things to ask about - but they were thankfully silenced by Franklin's voice echoing out from the vox speaker on the control board.
"Attention crew, this is Franklin. All stations sound off." his voice, already gruff and gravelly enough, came out a bit garbled over the internal comms, but the foals still recognised it and crowded around the little mesh device with awe.
"Mister Franklin?" the filly asked the box, staring into it disbelievingly as she and her brother tried to comprehend the strange device. "How did you get stuck in this little net?"
"Hey, now. Get down from there!" Maintrom almost whined, awkwardly trying to sit up in his permanently reclined seat and pick the two off his console. He was unsuccessful in this, but the two complied with his request in a strangely compliant manner - he was half expecting a tantrum or a 'fight' over it, but there was none. They returned to his sides and even sat human style when he bade them to, to make applying the 'cross-shaped' seat belt a bit easier.
"Well, I guess that counts as Jock's sound off." the sergeant chuckled over the vox, before he returned to seriousness again and ordered the others to sound off as well.
"Main Turret gunner, Carnalt here."
"Loyalty Master Falorum, Main Turret loader."
"Demolisher gunner, Luccous, alive and ready to shoot some shit."
"Demolisher loader, trooper Xerxes here."
"Tech Priest and tertiary gunner, designation E - 0213, present."
"Medic Kadnikov, here with Thorn and acting tertiary loader."
"Then that's everyone accounted for." Franklin rounded off, taking a few seconds to pause and let anyone disagree - but also to psyche himself up a bit for what he was about to say. "Very well, everyone strap in and hold onto something. Maintrom?"
"Y-yes, sir?" his gut was twisted and knotted as he waited for the order, a few beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he took a tentative hold of the control column in his fetlocks and placed his hind hooves on the floor pedals.
"Let's take off." came the order, spoken so softly one would imagine the old stallion was having second thoughts.
"Aye aye sir!" and with that, Jock Maintrom kicked the accelerator down and pressed both handles forward. With a mighty roar that shook the shattered husk of a building, the Dragon's Teeth lurched and began to rumble away. It crushed all manner of corpses, broken equipment and office supplies beneath its solid metal treads - exhaust billowing from its rear as the tank's fusion powered heart kicked into life.
"Uhhhh, Maintrom. Y-you're heading straight for the big hole there, buddy." Xerxes laughed nervously over the vox as the Baneblade reached its modified top speed of fifty seven kph, thundering towards the sheer drop with none of the fear of its organic passengers.
"That's the plan!" the younger trooper yelled in reply, pushing as hard as he could on the gas pedal - as if they'd suddenly entered another reality where more speed meant more safe.
"ARE YOU INSANE?" Luccous screamed, clearly as close as physically possible to her vox mic.
"BLAME THE SERGEANT IN HELL!" Manitrom bellowed over the sounds of the roaring tank. They were mere yards from their 'exit' now, seconds from plunging into an unknown abyss.
Franklin was oblivious to the desperate wails of his subordinates, deaf to their complaints about his idea. He was too busy gazing out of a viewing cupola on the vehicle's left side, watching the devastated office block go by. He strained his eyes too their physical limit, glaring into the rubble as he sought out a particular sight.
There! Just over a pile of Devourer armour scraps, was a fallen pillar. Under that pillar was a pony. Light pink in colour, with a deep azure mane. She lay still and even from this distance, he could see the tiny, content smile on her face. With a deep breath he sat up straight and pounded a hoof over his heart, as he muttered a solemn vow.
"You have entrusted your foals' lives to us, left them in our hooves believing they'd be safe. I'll be damned thrice by The Emperor Himself before I let that faith go in vain. On His name, I swear that to you now."
By the time he had finished making his promise, she'd disappeared from view and the ground was no longer beneath the Dragon's Teeth's tracks. For a brief moment they flew free from the building, bathing Franklin in the dazzling light of Equis' star through the cupolas. It was almost as if The Emperor was baring witness to his oath, silently condemning to swift justice should he fail to keep it.
Then the moment passed.
And the Dragons Teeth, Baneblade Super-heavy tank, plunged downward - towards a seething throng of corrupt ponies below.