//------------------------------// // Operation 1: The Rescue // Story: Sunset of Battle // by Tundara //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer; Sister of Battle By Tundara In the grim darkness of the far future there is only War... Operation 1 Sunset Shimmer tumbled through a vortex of mystical energies. She flailed wildly trying to stabilize her fall, catching brief glimpses of herself reflected in broken crystalline shards that spun about her as she was buffeted by winds of pure magic. Flung by the winds across an endless expanse of wild energies. The sight she beheld was breathtaking. Clouds of pure energy pierced by currents of sparkling light. Globules of condensed aether undulated as they drifted past her. Others grew in crystalline lattices, reflective spears spreading out until they shattered, the shards restarting the process. Puffs of plasma discharges zipped past her.    Reaching out she touched one. Primal energies bit into her flesh like ten thousand teeth, and Sunset screamed. Her skin felt like it was being torn into a million shreds. Fear replaced wonder and she curled in on herself as she continued to plummet through storms of eldritch power.  In the impossible distance a bolt of lurid emerald lightning lit churning clouds. In those clouds was a rotund face. Thick arms stirred a colossal cauldron beneath its baleful gaze. Next to folds of fat sat a silvery cage, inside which sat a green light hued with hints of ruby. Perhaps sensing her, the obsese giant looked in her direction, and smiled.  Burning hot tendrils of pure Despair burrowed into Sunset’s brain, digging deep like worms in soft earth, writhing and wriggling through the last traces of sanity. A colossal hand, one large enough to crush a city in its grasp, reached for her.   Sunset covered her face reflexively, knowing that there was absolutely nothing that she could do to stop being crushed. A tiny flicker of sickly green lightning sparked from a finger and struck her right above her heart.  Large patches of skin bubbled, thick yellow ichor leaking from her pores until the sores burst, sloughing away to reveal new skin beneath. Her lush hair fell away in thick patches, and she could feel something wriggling behind her eyes and in her mouth. She gagged and spat, teeth floating out along with dozens of yellow maggots.   Her mind went white with pain, and for a short eternity she was lost to the agony of rotting but being unable to die, the magic ravaging her also keeping her alive.  Eldritch energies wriggled deeper and deeper until they reached her soul. A flash of light bloomed, blinding her through closed eyes, and a shrill admonishment rippled like thunder through the chaotic clouds. Warmth hit Sunset where she’d been struck by the plague inducing lightning, wiping away the pain. It was replaced by a tingling sensation, like standing after sitting on a leg, only the pinpricks were everywhere. The sensation spread twirled as it flowed through her, following veins, sweeping through muscles, and entering her bones, leaving her feeling comforted. It was how she’d always imagined being hugged by her mother would feel.   She fell beyond the colossal creature, another storm propelling her even faster. She had trouble concentrating, her head rolling on her shoulders as her mind drifted. Following in her wake came a swarm of miniature versions of the colossus. Cackles rocked their bulbous bodies as they reached towards her.  Sunset’s vision began to swim, darkness creeping around the edges as her battered mind surrendered, her final sight was of a crimson star wreathed in golden flames gently floating among the raging storms. It caught her, wings forming a protective barrier as the swarm closed in around them. And then sweet oblivion at last settled over Sunset Shimmer.      In time her senses returned. Her back pressed against something hard, and a metallic scent curled in her nostrils. She shivered, a waft of freezing air slapping her across the face to fully reawaken her senses. Sucking cold air between clenched teeth, Sunset’s eyes fluttered open as a snowflake lightly drifted down to touch her face, falling from a burgundy sky through a window framed in the grey wings of a statue. For a few moments she just laid on her back and stared at the alien sky, processing what she’d seen in the space between worlds.   Only a few impressions remained.  The colossus. The torture. And the saviour.  Everything else was lost. Faded away like a dream, leaving only the traces of fear and that she should never use the mirror again. That what lay beyond was so alien, so unnatural that it would break her mind to look on it a second time.   A laugh broke from Sunset.  She’d done it! She’d escaped Princess Celestia and her lies. Her destiny was her own to grasp! No longer was she a plaything, to be toyed with promises of glory, and then abandoned.  Turning her head she took in more of her surroundings. She was in a simple storage room much like the one where she’d found the planar mirror through which she’d fled Canterlot. Dust covered furniture stacked against the plain wood walls, with a single window and door on opposite sides. Luminous orbs flickered overhead, casting the room in a dull orange glow. Next to her was her bag stuffed with all her important possessions; a ratty old bear, some food, and her journal. The only other thing of note was a large statue of a winged equine shoved into a corner. Sunset tried to roll to her hooves, and discovered that she didn’t have any hooves. Forelegs had become slender arms with long hands.  For a few minutes she just sat there, staring at her hands and the boots on her feet. She was well aware of what they were, having read about creatures with them in biology class, such as dragon whelps.  Had the storm turned her into a dragon?  No, she concluded. Dragons only had three fingers, while she had four, and a very quick check showed she didn’t have a tail or wings common to the species.  She flexed and wiggled her fingers, and took off a boot to count her toes—five in number, just like her fingers and thumbs, how strange. Why the vortex had clothed her was equally curious. She pushed up the sleeves of a blue jacket, feeling the smooth skin beneath, and then running her hands over her face. Flatter than when she’d been a pony, but with a small nose that she could just kind of see if she looked down and crossed her eyes just right. Her mouth was much smaller too, and she was certain her eyes as well, but the slope of her brow was fuller, while her ears were tapered and sensitive, a pleasurable ripple running down her spine at her own touch.  And then she froze, fingers probing her forehead, at what she didn’t find. Her horn, that wonderful spiralling growth that allowed her to work her magic spells, was gone. Cold sweat running down her back, Sunset scampered around on her hands and knees looking for any reflective surface. She tore off dust covers, and then found a large mirror on what was a dresser of some sort. Her throat constricted tight at the face that stared at her.  Oval, with a pointed chin and straight nose, olive in tone, and a pair of small, terrified eyes. There was no sign of her horn. Panic twisted her face, and she brought her hands up to the thick orange and yellow hair that fell over her slender shoulders, a scream constricted in her throat like a vice.  “No. Don’t panic Sunset, don’t panic.” She said to herself. “You knew there’d be challenges. You just need to think—” From somewhere in the near distance there was a loud bang, followed by a staccato of lighter pops, and several deep booms that echoed in her chest. A crash followed. The room shook. And an unnatural scream entered through the window that clawed down to the marrow.    Heart beating hard in her chest, Sunset threw open the door and peeked her head outside. The corridor beyond was dimly lit by more of the flickering orbs, though these were held in the outstretched hands of skeletal statues. It took Sunset a moment to realise that they were not statues at all, but actual skeletons draped in ancient funerary robes, with odd metallic pieces over their grinning skulls. One clicked and whirred, extended and retracted, and the skulls in the corridor turned towards Sunset.    “Necromancers!” Sunset breathed, heart hammering even harder.  Softly, she closed the door again while she put back on her shoe. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she took a peek to see if anyone was coming, and when she saw the coast was still clear, bolted down the corridor, the skeletons watching her as she ran. Fine tapestries sped past in gold, blue, and silver blurs. From ahead and somewhere above came more of the bangs and popping.  Wherever she’d ended up, the building was massive. Doors dotted the corridor, sometimes closely packed, and other times hundreds of feet apart. She reached a T junction, and turned left. Ahead were a series of windows on one side, and more of the skeletons on the other.  In the dull glow ahead something moved. A staccato flicker in the lights as it skittered towards her on all fours. As it drew closer, in the bands of reddish sunlight, she saw that it was covered in open sores that leaked a thick, effluent pus. Its belly had been split open, leaving entrails to drag along the ground. Black horns grew from the malformed thing, jutting from its head, shoulder, and hips. A thick rancid stench, like rotting meat left out in a puddle of spoiled wine, slammed into Sunset, and she jerked back her head as her stomach flopped into her throat. With a sharp, unnaturally quick jerk it focused rotting eyes on Sunset, pulled back fat lips that stretched over black gums split open by large, buck teeth, and let out the most unearthly howl that flayed Sunset to the core.   Turning, Sunset bolted back the way she’d come.  Pure terror gripped her tight, driving her on, feet pounding on the wood floors, skeletal observers flying past in a blur. She skidded around one turn and then another, not caring which way she went, trying everything to lose the creature.  It howled again, the noise closer. Claws scraped on the floor, growing closer. Closer. Closer.  She could feel its foul breath on the nape of her neck.  Spinning around another turn she saw the hallway open in a ragged hole in the floor and ceiling. Without slowing Sunset jumped down the hole. There was a crunch as she landed on the rubble, twisted, and rolled the rest of the way. Before she came to a stop she was already scrambling onto her hands and knees, looking around for a place to hide.   She found herself in a large room whose purpose utterly escaped her. Thick hoses zig-zagged and coiled across the floor, leading to and around several tall green canisters filled with an opaque fluid. Inside floated malformed things, limbs twisted and covered in bulbous growths, faces pulled in tormented rictus.  Hurriedly she crept forward, slinking between canisters just as the creature dropped through the hole. Her breath froze in her throat as it lifted its deformed head, testing the air with its long tongue. Slowly it swung its head around as it padded into the room. Talons scraped along the metal floor.  Sunset’s heart beat so hard that she was certain the creature could hear it. To keep herself from screaming she clamped her hands over her mouth.  It drew nearer.  And nearer.  Sunset closed her eyes and wished fervently that she’d never left home, and that this was all some terrible nightmare.  The nightmarish creature’s tongue wiggled between the canister’s toward her. A massive bang issued throughout the room, and in a sudden spray of brain matter and blood, the monster’s head exploded, splattering her with foul fluids and rotting gore. Sunset blinked a couple times as the creature fell to its side, dead.  Her stomach decided that this was a very good time now to throw up.  “Whoever is there, by the Throne, show yourself, or be purged!” A feminine voice, oddly distorted with static, echoed in Sunset’s ears. Heart beating faster still, Sunset slid out of her hiding spot, terror trickling down the inside of her thighs. She didn’t even notice or care that she’d wet herself in her fear. In a series of darting glances she took in the other half of the room.  Next to a conister near the far side of the rubble from the hole in the ceiling, sat a figure in white armour highlighted with gold on her large pauldrons and chest, and torn blue sleeves and tabard. Next to her lay the remains of a half dozen more of the disgusting creatures, their bodies torn apart similar to what had happened to the one that had just been killed.  Grunting, the figure pushed herself into a more comfortable position, and as she did, Sunset saw the long, broken stump of a claw that pierced her side. Thick red blood bubbled from the wound, one hand clutching a rag to stem the flow, while the other held a blocky contraption, smoke curling from the end of a barrel.  It reminded Sunset a bit of a miniature cannon.   “A child? The Emperor must be in a humorous mood.” The woman made a pained laugh that ended in a hissed gasp. “Well, it is not like I have another choice. We work with what He gives us. Come closer, child.” Putting down the miniature cannon, the woman gestured for Sunset to approach. Not knowing what else to do, Sunset edged closer to the feet of the creature.  Tapping the side of her head, she opened the faceplate of her helmet with a snap-hiss of hydraulics. The face inside was similar to the one Sunset had seen in the mirror, but sharper, with hardened azure eyes framed in blonde locks that stuck to sweat running down a face pallid from blood loss. A smile quickly vanished, and brow knitted together in a sharp frown.  “Xenos!” She spat, and the trembling weapon was raised.  “Wait!” Sunset said just as the trigger was pulled, and there was a click from the empty magazine.  The woman glanced down at her weapon in consternation, and then laughed, throwing back her head.  “What, oh Emperor on your Golden Throne, did I do to amuse you this much? Is this a sign? But why send me a xenos? Is this a test?” She pushed herself further up and drew a knife as long as Sunset’s forearm. “Why is there a xenos child here, of all places?” If the Emperor answered the prayers it was in the form of a long boom that shook the room for several seconds.  Nodding, the woman gestured at Sunset with the knife. “You, what are you doing here?” Sunset licked dry lips and took a step back. “Trying to find a way out. I woke up in a storage room up above and was chased by that thing. I have no idea what is going on, who you are, or that thing, or where I even am!” For a long moment the woman considered Sunset.     “I don’t have long,” the woman said, mouth twisted in a grimace. From beside her she picked up a metal box, a solid lock in the shape of a fleur-de-lis on the lid. “You must take this and go to the courtyard. My Sisters will be there. Take this to them.” Sunset looked over her shoulder, then back at the woman in strange armour. Slowly, because she was certain if she refused the woman would attack her, Sunset knelt down next to her and took the box. An iron hard glove clasped Sunset’s wrist.  “There is nothing on this planet more important than what is in this box, understand? If this is some test, I may be about to fail it giving you this responsibility. Or, you could have been sent by the Emperor. Stranger things have happened. Perhaps you are simply an abhuman. Yes, that makes more sense. An abhuman made to look like a xenos. Lord Feargus was conducting all sorts of unholy research in this palace, and his tastes were decidedly blasphemous. I take even greater solace in having put a bolter round through his head.” The woman coughed, blood splattering down her chin, but her grip remained firm, and her eyes burned with an intensity Sunset had never before seen. She was almost… impressed by the woman’s tenacity. “You will take this box because it is your lifeline, if nothing else. Without it my sisters will kill you on sight. With it… they may     Sunset and the woman shared a long look, and then her wrist was released.  “I don’t know the way.” The woman smiled, blood covering her teeth. With a grunt she pulled off her helmet and thumped it over Sunset’s head. She tapped something, and with another hiss it snapped shut before Sunset could protest.  At first she expected the inside to be dark, but it lit up with a blue glow. She could see the room with perfect clarity, as if it was bathed in bright spotlights, rather than a murky glow and flickering lights. Images hovered in the corners, and several warnings flashed in a list down one side. The most important, as far as Sunset was concerned, was the map in the bottom right corner of her vision that showed the layout of the complex.  “The machine spirit’s energy should last for a few minutes before being depleted and the auspex fades. Now, hurry. The Emperor protects,” the woman sighed with her last breath, eyes glazing over in death. Clutching the box, oversized helmet pressing heavily down on her slender shoulders, Sunset ran from the room. She stumbled a few times, the building rocking with explosions in the near distance, and only barely managed to avoid tripping. She ran and ran, finding a set of stairs around a turn, and bounded down them. From behind her came a series of howls, wild and frenetic with hunger.   Red dots appeared on the map, along with a pair white ones.  In her ears a voice crackled.  “Sister Superior Helen, you live!” The voice was both excited and relieved. “Praise the Emperor! We are almost at the rendezvous. Valkyries are in-bound. ETA; two minutes. Sister Maria and I are all that remain and will hold the square.”    Several bangs rang out from ahead. Sunset darted to the side and out a small access door. Her feet sank into knee high slushy snow that clung to her legs with an icy grip that left her numb and teeth chattering.  To her right, the upper torso of another armoured woman lay in the snow, cut in half at its waist with entrails splayed out. A wet gasp escaped Sunset, and her stomach lurched up in her throat. She began to heave, and only barely held back retching into the confines of the helmet.  Heavy, pounding feet approached, squelching in the slurry of blood and slush. A crescendo of deep booms sounded, reverberating deep in Sunset’s chest and into her bone marrow. Sucking in deep, fearful breaths, Sunset pressed her eyes shut, certain that the monsters were almost upon her.  The running drew closer.  Another series of the deep booms. Rup-bum-bum-bum-bum.  Inside the helmet they were dulled, but it did little to shield her from the low impact of the noise in her chest. Her mind was whirling, unable to focus, to find a point of contextual reality on which to grasp.  And then the lights inside the helmet flickered, died, and she was plunged into darkness.  Before Sunset could begin to scream or drag the helmet off her head, she was grabbed about the waist by powerful hands and hauled into the air. With a thump that pushed the air out of her chest, she landed on something. And then she was being jostled as whoever had grabbed her ran back to safety.  A longer sequence of the deep booms echoed through Sunset’s small frame.  Sunset felt herself being spun about again, wet snow wrapping around her legs and back as she was set down at the base of a large statue. Light returned as the helmet was torn from her head, and she found herself faced by two of the armoured women. Their postures stiffened as they looked at her from behind their blank faced helmets. “An aeldari girl?! Sister Arabella, how in—she has the artifact!” The one who’d rescued her jabbed a hand at the box Sunset clutched tight to her chest. “The Emperor is still with us! Our sacrifices have not been in vain.” From several doors came misshapen men wearing masks grafted to their faces. Stubby weapons let out low pops, and they screamed with madness as they charged across the courtyard. They swung improvised clubs, and one had a revving chainsword.    The other woman let out a grunt, ducking down and positioning her weapon atop sandbags. She spaced her attacks in short bursts, and fluidly replaced empty magazines in a graceful motion. A smattering of return fire churned up the sandbags in front of her, but Sister Arabella didn’t flinch. Without the helmet the noise was tremendous. Sunset’s ears rang continually, and she missed what was said next. She only regained her hearing when the two women paused their firing as a small egg-like object landed next to Arabella. Reacting the moment it hit the ground, Arabella scooped it up and hurled it back to where it came, a low boom issuing around across the square a second later.  “See, the Emperor protects!” The first women jocularly said, placing a single shot that brought a sharp scream from something unseen by Sunset.  “I pray he sends more help than a trembling xenos child, Sister Maria.”  Almost as if hearing her, a trio of angular, arrow shaped Valkyries roared over the courtyard, came about on long jets of flame, and sprayed the complex with weapons Sunset had no words to describe. Half the building exploded and the air was filled with the roar of flames that consumed the screams of those caught in the conflagration. While two of them provided cover, the remaining valkyrie descended, turned about, and opened a ramp on its aft. Framed in the craft’s hatch, a pair of women fired at the last swarming cultists and daemons pouring out of the remains of the compounding. Sunset was yanked to her feet and practically dragged to the open hatch, one hand still clutching the box, the heavy helmet in the other, and her backpack over her shoulder. She was handed up into waiting arms by Sister Maria.  Shoved towards the front of the vehicle, Sunset was guided into a chair by yet another woman in the same stony-white armour, and buckles affixed around her. Moments later the hatch slammed shut and there was a different sort of roar as the valkyrie accelerated away from the courtyard. “Sister Maria, report!” Barked another woman, and Sunset’s blood went cold in her veins. The voice was all-too familiar. It was impossible, Sunset thought, unable to look up and confirm her fears. No, it was a manifestation of her tired, fear addled mind. It was impossible. The speaker couldn’t be Princess Celestia.   There was a snap-hiss, and then in a clear voice, Sister Maria said, “Canoness, the cult had already infiltrated the palace grounds and slaughtered most of the guards when we arrived. Despite this, we were able to secure the artifact. We were ambushed us leaving the vaults, and in a running fire-fight Sister Arabella, Sister Rose, and I were separated from Sister Superior Helen and the rest of the squad. Trusting our sisters and the Emperor, we made our way to the extraction site, but sadly, Sister Rose was taken from us as we reached the courtyard. Shortly after, we received a signal we believed to be from Sister Superior Helen, but instead it was this child wearing her helmet and bearing the artifact.”  Sister Maria spread her hands over her chest and bowed her head low as she finished her report. The Canoness laid a hand on Maria’s shoulder. “You did well to survive and bring us the artifact. Our sisters lost will be mourned, but the Emperor is clearly pleased by your devotion.” There was no mistaking it this time. It was Celestia who spoke. The tone, the smug superiority in the lilt and twists of words were oh-so familiar and recognizable. They burned in Sunset’s chest in a tight knot of rage.  After all she’d done, all the sneaking about and lies, she hadn’t escaped Celestia.     “Child, identify yourself,” Celestia demanded, her tone far colder than Sunset had ever heard it before. “Respond, or be judged.” Sunset stared at the metal plating between her feet too terrified and angry to look up.  “Canoness Celestia, about the child… She appears to be aeldari, and has been in a daze since I pulled her to safety.” “Mm,” Celestia clicked her tongue, and then rough fingers grabbed Sunset by the chin and yanked her head up, turning her head to either side. “Look at me, child.”   Sunset’s breath hitched in her chest as she got her first good look at the canoness.  It was instantly obvious this was not Sunset’s Celestia. There were superficial similarities, but that was all. The hair was similar, with strands of pastel hues framing a long face, but one stern without the mask of compassion. Her eyes were hardened and sharp, a clear light in them that appraised Sunset in a single glance, and found her wanting. There wasn’t the least sign of recognition.  Though why should there be any? “She could be one of the mutants sent to infiltrate the palace and weaken its defenses,” Celestia mused out loud, one hand stroking her chin while the other fell to the hilt of a sword on her hip. “No. There are none of the tell-tale signs of corruption. And no spirit stone. Troubling.” “I’ve never heard of an aeldari child leaving their craftworlds,” muttered one of the other women. “Nor dress in such a manner. This is wrong. We should just purge it.” Something Sister Superior Helen said struck Sunset, and she said, “I’m not an aeldari! Lord Feargus made me look like this! Said he wanted something exotic and forbidden!”  A long pause followed as Celestia contemplated Sunset, the vehicle jostling around them, until all at once it went still except for the low vibrations running through the deck.     “Your name, child, and this will be the final time I ask. It is only because you brought us the artifact that I’ve entertained this amount of leniency.”  “S-Sunset Shimmer, Reverend Mother,” Sunset responded in a faltering voice that made her stomach squirm. At least she remembered the old honorifics for a canoness of a monastery. Quickly she also added the gesture made by Sister Maria, hands over her chest and a slight bow that made the straps dig into her shoulders. There was a slight moment of silence, and then, as the Valkyrie stopped rattling and the blue outside the windows turned to a star-speckled black, “At least she seems to be somewhat educated. Sister Maria, see she is put into the Schola among the other survivors once we reach the Righteous Indignation. Her reward is the opportunity to become a Sister of Battle.” Sunset dared not even show a sign of relief.