//------------------------------// // Portents // Story: Black Horizons // by SFaccountant //------------------------------// Black Horizons By SFaccountant Chapter 4 Portents Harvest of Steel Section 8 mess hall “That was the most intense debriefing we’ve had in a while, wasn’t it?” Rarity grumbled while she stepped into line behind another pony. “What was all the fuss about? Poor Applejack was lying on the deck for nearly an hour before they finally deigned to treat her injuries!” “It was something about the Genestealers, I think. When we mentioned them the mood changed right away,” Twilight replied. “But they did all the tissue sampling and… very invasive probes… and cleared us, so everything is fine now. Probably.” “Well if there’s one thing I can trust Chaos Space Marines with, it’s that they wouldn’t hesitate to put a bolt through our heads if we were infected by evil alien parasites or something,” Rarity sighed. “Depends, really. Ah imagine they’d invite ya to join the Nurgle cult first. THEN they’d off ya if ya refused,” Applejack drawled. “Do you think we should have left Fluttershy alone? She seemed… not very smiley when she left,” said Pinkie. “The past several hours have been quite hard on her, darling. Let the poor dear have some time to reflect on what happened. If anything it’s Gaela we should be worried about.” “How ya figger? She lost her arm with more grace and calm than Ah lose a loose bit.” “I’m not referring to the shock of the combat; Celestia knows mere violence could never rattle that woman. But she was giving Fluttershy the cold shoulder ever since we escaped the ship!” “… What, like colder’n normal?” “Well… maybe not, but still!” The mares of Equinought Squadron aside from Fluttershy made idle chatter about their mission as the line advanced down the side of the mess hall. For once none of them were wearing armor, and of the five three of them bore bandaging to cover up their very recent medicae treatment. Rainbow Dash had a bandage and a thin metal brace around her head and seemed exceptionally unhappy about it. Twilight was walking with a limp, and her leg was wrapped up in bandages to protect the new nano-stitching. Applejack had bandages on every leg and part of her neck, and a thermal compress was attached to her head where part of her mane had been shaved off. Several of the other ponies passing by couldn’t help but stare, but the farmer ignored all of them. Aside from the conversation, her attention was focused on dinner. The tables at one end of the mess were piled high with tinned nutrient gruel at one end, but the rest of the space was devoted to planetside fare. Salads, sandwiches, and fresh bread were provided by a trio of ponies standing behind the counter and cooking furiously to keep up with the flow of hungry soldiers. A rickety-looking plasma furnace acted as a makeshift stove, grilling hayburgers and heating a fryer full of potatoes. As a cooking operation it was ramshackle and poor quality, but compared to the pile of canned rations it was nothing short of luxurious. That said, Rainbow Dash and Twilight didn’t even give the real food a second look. Twilight levitated a can onto one of her wings along with a cup of water and then trotted off to the dining benches. Rainbow Dash did the same, although she took two of each. “Howdy, chef! Ah’ll take a hayburger,” Applejack requested, tapping a bandaged hoof on the table. “Medium rare, please.” The cook glanced back from the plasma furnace. “Hayburgers come raw, well done, or accidentally scorched to a crisp.” “Er… ya can’t manage somethin’ between raw and well?” “Mare, I have been TRYING,” he retorted. “All right, gimme yer best well done, then,” Applejack reluctantly agreed. Before she’d even finished speaking, the plasma furnace started sparking near its power supply. The cook yelped and took a spatula in his mouth, trying to rescue the patties in time, but a bright blue flash briefly consumed the hay patties and spatula head atop the burner and then receded. Dark smoke puffed up from the grill surface, briefly giving everyone a whiff of cindered carbon before it was sucked into the atmospheric recycler above. “Ugh. Five accidentally crisped hayburgers up,” the cook grumbled. He turned the spatula around to bring the first patty over a bun, and then flipped it over. The patty did not separate from the spatula’s surface. “… Make that four. One of them fused to the utensils again.” The stallion tossed away the spatula in disgust. Applejack wordlessly turned back toward the tower of ration tins and took one in her mouth, and then trotted out to join Rainbow Dash and Twilight. Rarity and Pinkie quickly followed with their own meals. “If they’re having difficulty with the equipment, can’t they enlist a Techpriest to fix it? This ship is lousy with them,” Rarity mused, sliding into place next to Twilight. “Ah think the techies are a little busy right now, Rares,” Applejack replied before slipping onto the bench next to her. “We just nabbed ourselves a space city, y’know. Priorities.” “Bah! If I let the Company’s ‘priorities’ dissuade me from asking for little favors here and again, NOTHING would ever get done!” the unicorn replied before stabbing a fork into her salad. “Let’s ask Gaela to do it!” “She… kinda lost an arm, Rarity,” Rainbow mumbled around a mouthful of nutrient paste. “And then Twilight found the arm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was back in working order before we finished supper!” “Ooh! I know! We should ask Gears!” Pinkie chirped, waving a hoof in the air. “He’s always good to do chores that are beneath all the other techpeoples!” Twilight and Applejack didn’t recognize the name, but Rarity shook her head. “He’d be perfect for the task, but he’s still back home. I don’t think the Mechanicus trusts him to be on a void ship yet.” “Lame.” Rainbow dropped her empty tin on the table and then snatched up a cup of water with her wing to wash it down. “I’ll see if Spike can help. He’s become pretty handy with the less sophisticated machines,” Twilight said. “A plasma kiln should be within his abilities.” “Hey ladies! This spot taken?” Lightning Dust trotted up to the table with a plate balanced atop her wings. A pair of other mares followed her; one was a unicorn almost completely obscured by a hooded cloak and bandage wrappings, while the other was a scowling gray pegasus with a blond mane and several scars. The second pegasus wasn’t wearing anything except her Chaos Star ID tags, and boasted substantial augmentation; both her forelegs and her right eye had been replaced by mechanical equivalents, and her flank had metal panels that suggested internal work as well. She also bore the Mark of Khorne as her cutie mark, immediately putting the Equinoughts on alert. “Sergeant Dust! Hi! Uhm… are these your friends?” Twilight asked while the new arrivals sat down. “Nah, they’re kind of a drag, really. But Shifty’s a big fan, so I figured why the hay not?” Lightning Dust chuckled and put down her plate. “Introduce yourselves, creeps!” “Hi! I’m Shifty Sights!” the unicorn said brightly, standing her forelegs on the tabletop. “It’s such an honor to meet you, Princess Sparkle! You’re an inspiration!” The others hadn’t noticed right away because the augmented pegasus was so eye-catching, but with Shifty as the center of attention they realized that the hooded pony had a Tzeentch-marked blindfold wrapped around her head. It wasn’t especially conspicuous with the rest of the mare’s outfit, either; she was wrapped up so completely that only her horn and muzzle were exposed. Thanks to that they could see that her coat was a shade of blue only a little lighter than Rainbow’s. “Hello Miss… uh… Sights,” Twilight said awkwardly, stumbling over the irony of the name. “You can call me Twilight. There’s no need to be so formal amongst us pirate raiders! Heh!” “Oh, thank you! You’re just as kind and humble as they say!” Shifty cooed, dropping back to a seated position. “Between the protection of Chaos, the technical brilliance of the Mechanicus, and the famous magical savant Sparkle, the enemy doesn’t stand a chance! Our paths are clear!” “… Are you done?” the augmented pegasus asked, nonplussed. When Shifty nodded she waved a wing. “I’m Steely Lathe. Not a fanfilly or anything, I just work here.” “I like your robot legs! Super cool!” Pinkie gushed. “Yeah, they are pretty cool aren’t they?” Steely said with a smirk. “I’ll be glad when we drop and I can put them to work. They didn’t let me in the space station. Afraid I’d break something important or something dumb like that.” Rainbow perked up. “You’re going to Ghessheim?” Lightning Dust nodded while she ate. “We were given enough time for a meal, but we have to be ready to jump into the transports and ship out. I haven’t seen the final attack plans yet, though.” “That is SO unfair!” Rainbow griped, turning to Twilight and gesturing to the ponies across the table. “Why do THEY get to go planetside?” Lightning and Steely looked perplexed, although Shifty endured the conversation with an unflinching smile. Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hoof. “Probably because they didn’t get ambushed by space monsters and barely escape an exploding void ship, Dash. We assaulted an enemy vessel and completed a major objective already. Let it go.” “They already healed us! We could do another mission today!” Rainbow protested. “Not that I have anything less than complete confidence in the mighty Equinoughts,” Shifty interjected, “but miss Applejack looks like she could use a good night’s sleep. You’ve done enough. We’ll take it from here.” Rainbow picked up her water cup with a wing and then gulped down its contents, forelegs crossed in front of her chest. Then she slammed the empty cup down on the table sourly. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Fine. It’s still lame, though.” “Rainbow, Darling, were you really looking forward to swooping down on helpless cities and plundering them THAT badly?” Rarity asked. “It’s not that! It’s just that this is the first alien planet we’ve been to after leaving Equestria!” Rainbow said, relaxing her obstinate pose. “It’s a whole other world! Don’t you want to see what that’s like? What if it’s some kind of super weird place, like… like an ice planet full of walking snowmen! Or a gas giant full of lightning tornadoes! Or some kind of giant metal orb that’s actually an enemy space station!” Pinkie Pie gasped and marveled at the ideas, but the other ponies just seemed perplexed. “You know you can just look up the planet profile in the briefing dossier, right?” Steely asked, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s an ocean world.” “I… Oh. Okay.” Rainbow uncrossed her forelegs, looking slightly embarrassed. “Still! Ocean worlds sound cool! What if there are some amazing alien fish?” “I think there were, actually, but human colonists ate them all,” Steely shrugged. “Shame, I guess.” “The continental structure is pretty interesting!” Lightning Dust said brightly. “I read that there was very little land that was actually above water when they found Ghessheim V, but there were lots of underwater shelves that formed big plateaus of shallows. So they built the hive cities on the shallows, and eventually boiled away or shipped off enough of the ocean to expose the land around the hives! So now they have all these beachfronts around the cities!” “Oh! That actually does sound rather lovely!” Rarity said. “Maybe we’ll get the chance to head down after most of the fighting is over.” “Boooooriiiiiiing!” Pinkie jeered. “Strategically it means there’s not a lot of open ground for dropping troops, though, and there’s a lot of anti-air guns. Tricky to attack unless we’ve got a lot of battle dinghies somewhere around here,” Steely paused to scarf down some bread, and then looked up at Twilight. “We don’t actually have battle dinghies, do we?” “I don’t believe we do, no,” Twilight assured her. “I’m sure Sliver or Harlin will think of something. We took Eschel without a problem and they say that most of the system’s defense assets are stationed to protect the capital on the moon.” Lightning Dust paused to take a drink. “We’re not attacking the capital, so we shouldn’t have to face the worst of it.” Applejack had been staring at Shifty while the mares discussed Ghessheim, and once she sensed a lull in the conversation she spoke up. “Hey, can Ah ask ya somethin’? It might be kinda touchy, Ah dunno.” “It’s about the blindfold, isn’t it?” Shifty replied, still smiling brightly. “I get that a lot. Plus I can see the future, so y’know.” “Yeah. What’s the deal? Did ya go blind when ya gave up yer pony soul or were ya like that already?” the farmer asked. Shifty giggled. “Neither! I’m not blind at all!” “Oh. So… what’s with the blindfold, then?” Rainbow pressed. “Well, to be clear, when I swore my life to Tzeentch he did take my eyes away,” Shifty said, causing the mares on the other side of the table to recoil in shock. “But I’m not blind! What Tzeentch has given me in return lets me see better than I ever could before!” She brought a silk-wrapped hoof to her muzzle, giggling some more. “I may not be able to appreciate the colors of a fresh rose bouquet as you can, but I can see your spirits, shining with passion or unease! I can see the threads of possibility unwind before me! I can see the secrets of others stashed away in the dark corners of your thoughts!” “D’ya ever run inta things ‘cuz yer busy lookin’ at souls and secrets and stuff and ya didn’t see a chair in yer way?” Applejack asked bluntly. Apparently Shifty hadn’t foreseen this query, because her expression promptly soured. “Oh for... NO, I don’t trip on things,” she grumbled. “In addition to the fantastic and otherworldly wych-sight I ALSO receive a localized mental image of boring mundane matter around me for basic spatial awareness. It’s just boring, so I prefer talking about all the cool magic senses.” She turned her head to the side and pouted. “Not that it’s much better than plain sight, but having a psionic radar sense means I can’t be tricked by holo-images or photon bursts or other light-based tricks, either.” “Okay, sure, but you also can’t read,” Steely interjected. “I CAN TOO READ!!” Shifty howled, jumping up and bristling like an enraged feline. The other ponies recoiled in alarm, and then she scrunched up her muzzle. “It’s… It’s just really hard. The color definition… isn’t great.” “You know that you can just get new eyes installed, right? We have those now,” Rainbow reminded her. “That’s not how it works!” Shifty complained. “The Dark Gods don’t just let you fix whatever they take from you! That’s cheating!” “Khorne doesn’t care,” Steely countered. “There’s no augmetic replacement for your impulse control!” the unicorn fumed. A crackling noise from above heralded a message from the ship’s vox caster. The Harvest of Steel has achieved low orbit over Ghessheim V. A bounty of slaves and war material await the chosen of the Dark Gods! All crews remain at battlestations! Landing teams, return to your barracks for assignment! That is all. “Sounds like it’s time for the next op.” Lightning Dust shoveled the rest of her meal into her mouth and then pushed away from the table. “FINALLY! The angry voice is getting antsy.” Steely slammed a power hoof into the table, denting it halfway to the floor and startling the other ponies. Most of them had already finished their meals, but the various plates, tins, and glasses jumped from the impact and then started rolling and sliding into the crease. “Hey! Watch it!” Pinkie complained, catching her plate before it slid out of reach. Steely seemed to ignore her and jumped into the air, zipping straight for the exit. Lightning Dust offered an embarrassed shrug before she did the same. Only Shifty remained behind, muttering under her breath about Khornate thugs. “I’m not sure I care for this new cultist trend,” Rarity opined, levitating her salad plate before stabbing her fork into a stack of leaves. “No offense to you, Miss Sights, but I find the sale of pony souls in exchange for power quite distasteful.” Shifty’s mood changed immediately, and she giggled lightly. “And yet how far you’ve already come! It wasn’t so long ago that Chaos was an evil invader to be purged from Equestrian lands!” Her cheeks stretched into a grin that was just a little too wide to be normal. “How long do you think it will be before you take the next step? And to which patron~?” “Look, we all understand the compromises we’ve made to get this far,” Twilight interjected, her voice grim. “I don’t!” Pinkie chirped, waving a hoof in the air. “We bargained ourselves for the power that the Iron Warriors offered, and we’re not even close to paying for that,” Twilight continued, completely ignoring her bubbly companion. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives – however long that is, under these conditions – flitting around the galaxy fighting enemies we have no qualms with and stealing for the benefit of a cruel, terrible army.” Then she stood her forelegs onto the table, lifting herself up higher and spreading her wings slightly. “But we made no bargain with the Dark Gods. We demanded nothing from them, and owe them nothing. And that’s the way I intend to keep it.” Shifty’s grin shrunk to a mere smirk. “Do you really think it will be that easy?” “Of course not. These things never are,” Twilight admitted, her eyes narrowing. “Although while we’re on the topic, you cultists don’t make a great pitch for it.” “Poison Kiss STILL laments her inability to find a date,” Rarity sighed. “All that Nurgle ‘fecundity’ can be a problem, after all.” Shifty laughed. “Very well! It isn’t my place lecture the Elements of Harmony – the famed guardians of Equestria – on how best to serve our new masters!” Shifty hopped backward off the bench and then seemed to burst into a cloud of colored smoke. The other ponies recoiled, and then flinched again when the cultist’s voice came from behind them. “Trust your instincts, Miss Sparkle. They’ve served you well so far.” The unicorn’s voice seemed to be a whisper on the wind, entering Twilight’s ears from everywhere and nowhere. “Fight for them. Save them. The toll will come in time.” Shifty Sights slinked away out the door, leaving the mess hall and the Equinoughts behind. “Well, that was a mite disturbin’ but Ah’m too tuckered to worry about it,” Applejack stepped off the bench and stretched, her back cracking gently. “Ah think Ah’m gonna hit the space hay.” “I wanna get a look at the planet,” Rainbow Dash huffed. “If I can’t go, can I at least watch? Like… get a vid feed from someone on the ground or something?” “Oh, that sounds like a lovely idea!” Rarity said, her mood brightening instantly. “I know just who to ask, too! Twilight, darling, do you want to join us?” “Actually, I wanted to start perusing the archives on the Tyranids,” Twilight mumbled, still somewhat distracted by Shifty’s parting words. “Oh, of course you do,” Rarity grumbled, her ears flipping down. “It was never going to be enough that we spent hours having those filthy monsters following Fluttershy around like orphaned puppies and gnawing on our greaves. You want to see how their disgusting weapons propel swarms of biting insects and how their terrible gestalt hive mind pins down individual victims in multiple times and places.” “No, it’s not that! I just want…” Twilight trailed off mid-protest. “… Actually yes. I want to know both those things now. But I have other, less macabre questions too!” “I wasn’t being sarcastic, darling. By all means, enjoy yourself,” Rarity said with a gentle smirk as she turned away. “I’m gonna go feed the crew mummies!” Pinkie said brightly, holding up a plate of slightly burnt dinner rolls. “Didn’t the ship try to eat you the last time you did that?” Rainbow asked on her way out. Pinkie shook her head and started trotting along behind the others. “No, that wasn’t why the ship tried to eat me! Feeding them seemed to make her pretty mad, though!” Twilight raised a hoof and opened her mouth. Then, after several seconds of hesitant silence, she put her hoof down. Pinkie merrily trotted out of the mess hall, still carrying the food on her back. “… Right. Well. Onto the archives, then,” the alicorn mumbled, getting up from her bench. Harvest of Steel Primary Strategium “Materials shipping seems to have suffered in recent days. I’ve perused their inventory logs, and there was an unusual glut in supplies that didn’t match their revenue. We might have caught them at a bad time. Quite fortunate for us.” Sliver stared silently at the hololith map in the center of the table, his hands resting on his hammer. The hololith displayed a towering hive city with numerous red bricks scattered around it to represent enemy units and fortifications. Much of the data was gleaned from the datastacks of the space station Eschel, thankfully spared when Chrysalis had prevented the defenders from sabotaging the station. A pair of Iron Warriors reviewed the hololith with him, while Dark Magos Kaelith and Trademaster Norris Delgan joined the meeting via holoscreens. Sliver was only half-listening to Delgan discuss the looting of Eschel, his mind focused on the next stage of the invasion. “There was an additional bounty in Eschel’s extensive living quarters, which housed some five thousand workers. Many survived the assault rather than taking up arms, and a good quarter of those were willing to renegotiate their contracts. They’re ours now,” Delgan explained. “Corrective: Those not contracted will serve as well, in the slave pits. All the laborers are ours now,” Kaelith hissed. “Well don’t tell them that YET. Let the menials transfer before you start rounding up the loyalists,” Delgan grumbled. “I’m sure you’d rather have them all in chains, but that’s bad for morale and we could use the workers back home.” Kaelith shrieked something in Binaric Cant, and then proceeded with his own report. “Informational: Materials scavenging is proceeding 0.8 cycles behind schedule. Causation: Structural damage due to the detonation of a grand cruiser-class void ship in close proximity to Eschel has caused multiple hull breaches and required access restriction to key areas.” “It wass ssomewhat impetuouss of Techpriesst Gaela to annihilate the entire vesssel,” Sliver admitted. “But her actionss were acceptable. Tyranidss are not to be taken lightly, Dark Magoss. Continue with your dutiess and sstrip the sstation barren. The delay will not endanger our objectivess.” A Warpsmith spoke up as soon as he was finished. “The Imperial dogs have responded as we anticipated. The moon Ulaisse has gone on high alert. We’ve detected rampant comms traffic and countless fighter craft being scrambled. They’ve even roused a pair of Titans to the capital’s defense. Combined with the anti-ship batteries, the capital fortress would be an excellent test of the Legion’s siege masters.” “Another time, another army,” Sliver said blandly. “We’re not here to crack open their little vault. Hive city Xenith will be the primary target.” Sliver jabbed a finger at the hololith, and then it zoomed in on the city’s spires. “The hive iss well-protected from above but vulnerable to a ground asssault. Few obsstacle defenssess were built the lasst time thiss planet ssaw an Ork raid. Insstead they rely on hardened point-defensse sstationss and mobile armor divissionss to defeat invaderss. A workable sstrategy… but their troopss are weak and inexperienced. The vasst majority of thiss sstar’ss military ressourcess protect the capital on Ulaissse. “Their militias will be turned to wreckage for the Scavurel to pick over,” a Warpsmith sneered. “The army is ready to deploy on your order, Lord.” “They will hold until I grant the order to deploy. It should be no more than five sstandard hourss,” Sliver assured them. “Provide the sstrike teamss with detailed pictss of the enemy defenssess and their intended incurssion path while they wait. The defenssive web will need to be dissentangled rapidly once the vanguard hass pierced the hive barrierss.” One of the Warpsmiths bowed and left the table. The others seemed perplexed, and one eventually spoke up. “Why the delay, Lord? They’re mobilizing their defenses as we speak,” asked one of the commanders. “In addition, this system is too well-traveled to stay for long. Several transport vessels escaped during our initial assault on the space station,” the other Warpsmith hissed. “I do not wish to organize another emergency evacuation because an enemy battlefleet arrived for resupply.” “I am well aware of the risskss,” Sliver said calmly. “But the Warssmith inssissted I put our new pet to work… I think he’ss afraid she might get bored if she’ss sstuck on the Harvesst of Ssteel.” A deep, rumbling chuckle came from the Chaos Lord. “For now, we wait.” “Ah, that one,” the Warpsmith replied bitterly. “I don’t care for the shape-shifter. Leaving her free reign so soon after her attack upon us… it sends the wrong message.” “The equines have been complaining to you too, have they?” asked the other Warpsmith, smoke puffing out of his backpack. “They’re terrified of the changeling. It’s slightly galling how much more they trust us.” “Enough,” Sliver announced. “If you are concerned about our ability to flee the ssysstem before an Imperial blockade arrivess, you may prepare withdrawal planss. For now, our sstrategy demandss we wait.” “Of course, Lord Sliver,” the Warpsmith replied, his mechatendrils drooping as if cowed. “I only hope this feeble witch vindicates the faith you’ve placed in her.” Another puff came from his smokestacks. “I somewhat prefer having Equinought Squadron in charge of the unlikely key missions.” Sliver said nothing for several seconds. “… I concur,” he finally replied. “Deception iss not my favored tactic. But the equiness were quite exhaussted by their incurssion into the Blesssed Redemption. Let our other pawnss show their worth.” Ghessheim V Hive city Xenith – city ramparts “Hive militia is being rounded up, Captain. We have about three thousand so far in addition to the standard planetary defense division, but they’re proving difficult to deploy so rapidly. We won’t be able to rely on penal militias this time, with the fourth planet cut off, but we’ll be able to fully man the ramparts. All turrets have been checked and blessed by the Enginseers. Armored divisions have been mobilized and are awaiting deployment, but there’s fewer than we’d like. Still, with the PDF formations and our defensive emplacements we should be able to keep the traitor scum out of the inner hive.” Valkyrie gunships rocketed through the air, winding around the towering spires of the hive city. Guns bristled from the great towers, creating webs of deadly fire zones outside and inside the city’s reach. On the wide streets below, tanks and APCs rumbled into position, flanked by squads of light walkers and rows of marching infantry. It was a sight to make the heart sing, and the cheers of citizens from sidewalks and windows boomed through the hive. It wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly enough. “We’re not up against Orks this time, Lieutenant. Have you ever fought traitors before?” the Captain asked, gazing stonily over the ramparts on the city’s edge. “Just once, Captain. Heretic cell rose up two years ago. Not much of a fight, honestly.” “Underhive thugs and disgruntled miners, then,” the Captain rumbled. “What we’re up against now is very different.” “We’ll be ready, Captain!” the soldier retorted, saluting sharply. “Speaking plainly, Sir, I think the lads’ll be glad to fight something other than greenskins. Xeno filth are nearly inexhaustible. Pirate scum will be a good change of pace.” The officer didn’t reply right away, staring stone-faced at the procession of men and armor passing through the streets. The soldiers were experienced, and the armored company well-maintained, but he knew what was waiting to drop on them from orbit. Traitorous soldiers, well-supplied and motivated. Mechanicus heretics, carrying blasphemous weapons and forbidden arts. And worst of all, Space Marines. Also there were some datascribes that swore they saw small horses or something in the picts transmitted from Eschel. He didn’t really know what to make about that. “Get that militia deployed at once. I want everyone currently armed and ready placed throughout the buildings on the outer ring,” the Captain ordered. “The others you round up in the meantime we’ll keep in reserve, to give them extra time to prepare. We don’t know where the enemy will strike first, or if they-“ “Lord Captain! Sir! I have a message!” The officers whirled around to face a soldier who was sprinting to meet them atop the roof. The newcomer was a young Planetary Defense Force regular, with clean, crisp flak armor that was painted gray with golden slashes across the chest and shoulders. The soldier slowed his approach and saluted, clearly trying to contain his excitement. “Yes? Speak!” the Captain snapped. “This had better be important if you couldn’t tell me through the vox.” “It is, Lord Captain!” the soldier said, his voice calming. “A Sentinel patrol returned after investigating an object that came from orbit and landed outside the hive city! It was a savior pod!” “A savior pod? From which vessel?” The Captain stroked the thin beard hanging from his chin thoughtfully. “Three friendly vessels were lost and another severely damaged during the orbital assault. It wasn’t from the Blessed Redemption, was it?” “No, Lord Captain,” the soldier said with barely concealed excitement. “It’s from the space station Eschel itself! The Director Primus escaped!” The officers blinked and glanced at each other. “Director Issen Von Kerrig escaped? How?” “He says he repelled the first attacks on the command center, Lord Captain, and then led a counter-charge. Eventually they were overrun, but he and a few armsmen were able to get to the pods. There were a few men that were found with him, but they didn’t survive their injuries, I’m afraid.” The soldier shook his head. “The Director’s been wounded as well, but he seems to be in stable condition. He demands to see the General.” “Have any other savior pods landed on-world?” the Captain asked. “No, Lord Captain. The scouts found nothing else, nor did the augur stations detect any other drops.” The Captain grunted and adjusted his cap. “Send him to the Polaris bunker complex. I’ll meet him in the yard. We’ll see what the Director has to say…” “Yes, Lord Captain! Right away!” “Fellow servants of the Emperor, grant me your leave! Our enemies grow in number! Even now, they watch from above! Every shadow, within and without, holds the blight of Chaos, and time is against us!” “Yes, Lord Director, we, uh, we understand. But-“ “Even now, a great evil – a shadow that threatens to consume ALL – hangs over us, noble servants of the Imperium! We must act, for every second the claws of darkness tighten their grip on our fair planet!” “Y… Yes, Lord Director. That’s… look, we’ll get you to the General soon, so, please… calm down, Lord.” The Taurox armored truck rumbled through the streets of the hive city, speeding past barricades and groups of soldiers manning checkpoints. A pair of Sentinels followed the vehicle in a sprint, escorting the APC closely enough to pick up the ranting of its occupant. Buildings stretched into the sky all around them, and barricades were being rapidly set up at every intersection. Chrysalis crossed her arms over her chest and laid back in her seat, frowning petulantly. Several exasperated soldiers shared the vehicle with her, while a combat medic carefully dressed the lasburn on her leg. The burn was, unlike her current body, totally real; once again she’d had to get a trooper to shoot her for the sake of her cover story. Even the wound in the leg she had taken during the fight over Eschel’s command center hadn’t sufficed. Damage to one body didn’t look right in the next after a morphing spell. Aside from the frequent need to suffer minor injuries, she was actually rather enjoying herself. Mimicking a particular, known individual was always more dangerous and interesting work than making up a character, and Issen Von Kerrig was a particularly overdramatic soul. She’d spent half the trip hamming it up and ranting obliquely about some Holy Emperor and rather than being suspicious the enemy troops only seemed annoyed. Giving a thought about the ultimate objective of this venture, she tilted her head toward the vision slit on the side of the passenger compartment. Vast buildings lined every street, towering into the sky. Windows and balconies covered much of the surface, along with the odd relief of a twin-headed eagle or a skull, while enclosed walkways connected the buildings high up in the air. Chrysalis couldn’t see the tops of the structures, and anyway couldn’t seem TOO impressed by the sight of a planet she was supposed to be mostly familiar with, but she had never seen civilization on such a scale before. Canterlot was like a child’s playset next to the mighty iron tenements of Ferrous Dominus, and those hefty metal blocks seemed downright modest and puny next to the spires of a hive city. Assuming the human residents of the hive used the vast spaces with any efficiency, she guessed the population of the city was in the millions, at least. How did the Iron Warriors expect to seize such a huge population center? The soldiers scurried around the streets like ants on patrol, carrying more munitions and weaponry than she remembered seeing scattered around in the Ork camps she had visited. Then again, the main reason for her deployment was to ease that burden. “The Emperor’s light burns ever brighter as the foul heretics descend upon us, and so it will snuff out this plague!” Chrysalis erupted into another speech, thumping a fist against her chest. She winced slightly as the impact resonated more sharply than she intended, causing small pinpricks of pain up and down her torso. The core was still working, obviously – she’d be dead by now if it wasn’t – but it still seemed slightly creaky from the damage it had taken in her last infiltration. “Take heart, brothers! For here we shall stand in the flames of righteousness! Whether it should consume us or our foes, we will not falter! We will not yield! We WILL NOT-“ “Lord Director, we’re here!” shouted a guard as the Taurox started to turn the corner. “Thank the saints! There’s the fortress!” “Just a little further, my Lord,” another guard assured their guest. “Please, compose yourself. The Officer Strategis is stretched thin right now, but I’m sure the Lord General can host you.” Chrysalis straightened and made a show of dusting off her las-burnt cuirass. This was the moment she had been anticipating with equal parts dread and excitement. No one had yet doubted her story, but so far all she had met were slack-jawed troopers. Hopefully that would be enough, but changeling queen didn’t really expect she’d gain access to the enemy’s headquarters as easily as she had on Eschel. The Taurox rumbled to a stop and the guards unlocked and opened the door ahead of her. Chrysalis stood up, peered outside for a moment, and then stepped onto the streets of Xenith. The Sentinel walkers stopped only long enough for their guest to disembark, and then they swiftly turned around and dashed back where they came from. Before the disguised changeling stood a military yard stacked with tanks and lighter combat vehicles. Behind the yard was a squat, pyramid-shaped building capped with a statue of a man in heavy armor bearing a sword. The structure was substantially shorter than the surrounding buildings, giving it an understated profile and also shielding it from all directions to protect it from bombardment with the city’s residential hives. The base was also swarming with soldiers, and a squad of them headed by a pair of officers marched up to the Taurox. Chrysalis quickly noted their rank indicators and moved to meet them. Once she got close enough, the augmetic display in her eye picked up the Captain’s ident-code and displayed his name. “Captain Seren, Ghessheim finds itself thrust into the crucible of war yet again!” she howled as soon as the man was within earshot. “By the Emperor’s mercy did I escape the claws of the heretics, and by the Emperor’s will shall I see to it they advance no further!” The Captain hesitated, and then turned to the uniformed man beside him. They whispered to each other briefly, casting glances at the Director. “I can see the doubt within your eyes, brothers!” Chrysalis bellowed, marching right up to the officers. “You’ve stared into the eyes of darkness! You’ve seen the fury of the wretched heretics! Apostates tread on sacred ground!” She clapped a hand against the Captain’s shoulder, looming over him. “But the Emperor IS with us! He delivered me from the accursed traitors, and now, by His grace, we will cut out this canker!” The Captain tried to interject, but the Director was already past him, stomping toward the headquarters while still pontificating loudly. “In the Emperor’s name, Ghessheim stands! In the Emperor’s name, Ghessheim triumphs! In the Emperor’s name we shall send ten thousand heretics howling to the Warp from which they emerged!” Chrysalis raised an arm to the sky and swung it about, and a nearby block of infantry stiffened and saluted at her passing. “Ghessheim will taste the blood of the faithless, and we will know VICTORY!!” “Well, he’s… taking this well, I suppose,” the Lieutenant mumbled, staring at the Director’s back. “That man’s always been full of vigor, and I suppose one must look to their faith when they endure such a loss,” the Captain admitted. Then he touched a hand to the right side of his head, which hosted a heavy augmetic that replaced his right eye. “Additionally, his implanted ident-codes are scanning correctly. That is Director Primus Von Kerrig. The heretics would not be able to duplicate them or break the Director’s will so quickly.” “Aye, Sir. We’ll see to it he’s debriefed after he speaks to the General.” “Leave that to me, Lieutenant. Continue with the preparations. The Director may have some useful tactical information on the enemy, but we still have quite a battle ahead of us.” The lesser officer saluted, and then turned around sharply. The Captain adjusted his hat and then took off at a brisk walk, trying to catch up to Director Issen. Chrysalis stomped through the strategium, walking past huddled technicians and holoboards laying out maps of the surrounding area. A planetary hololith was mounted in the ceiling, displaying the fifth planet and the capital moon in extraordinary detail. The command fortress was buzzing with activity, conversation, and the hum of logic engines. Beyond the mundane sights and sounds of the command crew, however, Chrysalis sensed something else: fear. To her more exotic senses, the unease of the various officers filled the strategium with its stink, only barely masked by the rote performance of their duties and the orders of their superiors. It wasn’t the sudden, excited panic of men in combat or the paralyzing horror of seeing something grotesque; rather, it was an oppressive, creeping fear that their efforts were futile and their futures were forfeit. Chrysalis decided she kind of liked the taste. “I am Director Primus Issen Von Kerrig!” she shouted suddenly, thrusting a fist into the air. “In the God-Emperor’s name, I demand to see the Lord General! The very fate of this sacred bastion depends on it!” “Yes, Lord Director. This way.” The Captain strode up next to his guest and point to a hall. “General Tammael is very busy, as you’d expect, but if you’ve any intelligence on the foe he’ll want to hear it. We know too little of what happened up there in orbit.” “The most base treachery, Captain!” Chrysalis sniffed. “But I cannot say more now. They have strange technologies and numerous spies! Righteousness and valor are little protection against such insidious methods!” She ground her teeth, a frustrated snarl escaping. “Cowards that they are, the heretics dare not descend upon the Emperor’s holy cities unaided!” “I… see, Lord Director. It will certainly be of interest to General Tammael if we’ve been compromised.” The Captain reached a doorway sitting under a carved Aquila, and then swiped a thumb through a device next to the door. It beeped and flashed red. After a few seconds, the door clicked open, and a gruff voice came from the other side. “Come in, but be quick about it.” General Tammael was a short, broad-shouldered man with a deep tan and half his face rebuilt out of wretched-looking augmetics. He sat behind a desk piled high with scrolls, and a map of the city flickered on a holoscreen behind him. “Lord General Tammael! At long last! The Emperor has granted-“ Chrysalis began, only for a snarl to cut her off. “Spare me your monologues, Issen,” the General snapped, leaning forward over his desk. “All your preachy howling didn’t save Eschel, did it? Tell me what you know and then get out of the way.” Chrysalis blinked, slightly put out. She’d been planning on drawing the conversation out with her preaching to try to exhaust his sense of caution, but it seems this one wasn’t having any of it. “Surely you already know the basics.” Chrysalis straightened and clasped her hands behind her back, her expression grim. “Iron Warriors. Treacherous Space Marines from the most vile corners of the galaxy warped into the system in a convoy of freighters. They launched a sneak attack on Eschel beyond our ability to repel. The station, our system patrol fleet, and the grand cruiser Blessed Redemption are all lost.” “Why yes, I did know all of that,” Tammael grumbled. “So get to the interesting parts. How many of the accursed Astartes were there?” “Perhaps one hundred. In the assault, at least,” Chrysalis said, tapping a crooked finger against her chin. “The renegades made up the spearhead, but the bulk of the forces contained light infantry. Hardened armsmen, black-robed Techpriests, and xenos pests.” “Xenos?” the General perked immediately, the crease in his forehead deepening. “Of what sort?” “The gray-skinned ones. The… Tau, I believe?” Chrysalis crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to be in deep thought. “Them and the ponies.” The officers stared at the disguised changeling for several seconds. “… Is ‘pony’ some kind of naval slang for a new sort of despicable alien?” Tammael asked. “There may be more accurate words they go by I suppose, but no. They were ponies,” Chrysalis explained. “Colorful four-legged mammals with hooves and tails and such.” “Miniature horses?” mumbled the Captain in disbelief. “What… What were they DOING with them? Riding them? On a space station?” “No, they strapped lasguns to the beasts and set them loose with the men. Miserable animals,” Chrysalis grumbled, shaking her head. The men just looked even more perplexed. Chrysalis wasn’t completely sure what the confusion was all about, actually. If these humans knew what ponies were, why would they be so shocked to hear that they attacked along with the Chaos soldiers? Perhaps the ponies’ reputation for benevolence and tolerance had preceded them? “Yes, well, bizarre assailants or no, there are more important matters to attend to.” Chrysalis coughed into her fist. “The heretics will not be satisfied with the station. They are preparing for a ground invasion.” “They haven’t moved into bombardment formation,” noted General Tammael, restraining his profound relief. “Astartes or no, that will make it exceptionally difficult to seize the capital.” “They don’t intend to,” Chrysalis said grimly. “The fleet plans to strike at Ghessheim V, and leave the garrison at Ulaisse untouched. Our hive cities are far less hardened.” “Perhaps. But this isn’t the first band of pirate wretches we’ve crushed,” Tammael growled. “If they try to make landing around Xenith, our mobile armored divisions will hit them before they can fortify, and our fighter support will tear apart their supply lines from orbit. The shallows don’t extend far enough to place them out of our reach!” Chrysalis had to fight to keep the grin off her face. “A waste of planning, General. They won’t be targeting Xenith, either.” She pointed to the map on the back of the office. “The Chaos scum intend to launch an assault on Byrecia, on the eastern continent.” “Byrecia? That hive is half the size of Xenith.” The Captain furrowed his brow. “The northern cape would make a decent enough beachhead, I suppose. Still not out of reach of their own mobile division, though.” “No, but it won’t be enough,” Chrysalis said solemnly. “They’ll be overrun in short order and the heretic scum will have their beachhead. UNLESS we stop them first!” The changeling stepped up to the desk and smacked her palms flat atop the table, glaring into Tammael’s eyes. “General! Send our armored divisions to Byrecia! If we depart immediately, the transports may arrive in time for a full-scale assault on the mustering invaders!” Unseen by the Captain, her eyes briefly glinted green. The General’s vision swam, and he felt the words of the Director echo in his head, slowly pushing aside his own thoughts. His posture slackened, and he started to open his mouth to speak. “How do you know this?” Captain Seren suddenly interrupted. “You escaped from the space station mid-assault. When did you have time to interrogate an enemy soldier?” Chrysalis twitched her eye as the General seemed to blink himself awake, suddenly freed from her magical influence. “Yes, that’s an excellent point. If we deploy our divisions in aid of Byrecia, then Xenith is all but undefended! Exactly how reliable is this intelligence, Director?” Chrysalis repressed a sigh and drew a hand into her coat jacket, withdrawing a small bit of broken machinery. “This.” She dropped it on the General’s desk. “A vox receiver, torn from the helmets of one of their squad Sergeants, or whatever profane ranking order they use for their leaders. We were able to receive a link for much of our trip in the savior pod.” “Ah, clever. The traitors do have a reputation for middling security,” the Captain mused. General Tammael didn’t look so sure. “That’s it? You heard them announce their battle plans on the local vox network? It’s something, but I’ll not hinge such an important strategic shift on that alone!” He picked up the bit of shattered plasteel and glared at it briefly before flicking it away. “The treasonous foe ALSO has a reputation for canny misdirection, and this fleet has already dealt a grave blow with its deceptions. I will not chance that things are as they seem.” Chrysalis recoiled slightly, frustrated. Between her magical hypnosis and personal wit, she didn’t think there would be any chance of failure if she got this far. But if they wouldn’t listen… “Very well, General. If you trust in the heroes of Byrecia, then I’ve no doubt the Emperor shall shine His favor upon us!” Chrysalis said firmly. “But there is one strategic factor I implore you to consider. Captain, if you would?” She gestured to the holoscreen at the back of the office. Seren walked around the desk and stood in front of the holoscreen. Tammael half-turned his chair to look. “Tell me, gentlemen: look at the SHAPE of Byrecia, and the shallows around it that will form the operational combat zones. What do you see?” she asked, her voice grim. The officers peered closer, falling into contemplative silence. A flash of green came from behind them, briefly casting a strange, emerald glow across the map. The guards jerked to attention when a muted thumping noise came from beyond the door. They turned toward the entrance to the General’s office, concerned. No further noise came from within, or at least no noise that was audible with the door closed. The office was largely soundproofed to prevent eavesdropping on strategy meetings, so anything that could be heard from the hallway was unusual. “Lord General?” called a soldier, finally deciding to knock on the door. “What was that sound? Is everything all right?” For several seconds, silence greeted the guards. Each moment passed with a growing sense of unease, and with a grimace one of the guards reached for the entry keypad. The door opened, and General Tammael glared out into the hallway from his office. “Yes? What is it?” The guards quickly straightened. There was no one else visible from the hallway, and there was nothing obviously amiss in the office. “L-Lord General! Is everything okay? We heard a noise and-“ “The Director stubbed his toe and tripped,” Tammael grunted. “The Captain took him into the back to lie down. He’s a bit… excitable.” “Yes, Lord. Should I fetch a medicae?” “No,” Tammael said firmly. “What you need to do is tell our mobile armored divisions that they’re being re-deployed. Have the Commanders arrange our transport ships to carry every armored vehicle we have to the eastern continent. They’re to join with Byrecia’s armored company for an assault on the cape.” “Uh… I… that…” the guard stammered awkwardly, less because he could see the strategic error of the decision and more because he wasn’t used to relaying orders between officers in the same command center. “I’m sure the division leaders will have questions,” Tammael growled. “They can contact me through the vox for clarification if they find these orders too complicated. I’ll be taking no more visitors!” He waited for the guard to salute stiffly, and then shut the door again. Chrysalis walked back behind the General’s desk and hopped into the chair with a tired sigh. “These missions are so stressful. I should find a young couple after the invasion. It’s been some time since I’ve had a good, honest meal.” She lifted her legs and propped them up on the bodies of General Tammael and Captain Seren, their corpses crammed haphazardly into the space under the desk. Then Chrysalis dug a finger into the shin of her boot, fishing around for something. She withdrew a small object shaped like a railroad spike; pointed sharply at one end, with several perforations and gleaming circuit wires around a core of black ebony. The bulbous head of the spike was about the size of a marble, with arcane etching scratched into it at such a tiny scale that it looked completely smooth to casual observation. After observing it for a few seconds, a spark suddenly jumped from the tip of the spike and burst against the infiltrator’s chest. Chrysalis yelped and almost fell over, dropping the spike onto the surface of the General’s desk. Light bloomed from under the breast of her jacket, briefly flashing blood-red light against the walls. She hugged her chest in a panic, feeling her augmetic core start to speed up and get hotter. After a few seconds, the heat and light receded. Chrysalis leaned away from the mysterious object, scowling. “They said this thing was ‘safer than the last version,’” she grumbled to herself. “Whatever that means. It sure doesn’t seem safe to me.” A gentle buzzing noise came from the cogitator on the General’s desk. Chrysalis took another deep breath, coughed into a fist, and then tapped a flashing button. An image of a young officer appeared on the monitor screen, looking distressed. “Lord General, f-forgive the interruption!” stuttered the man. The cogitator screed listed his name as Commander Tychin. “You are forgiven, Commander. But you’d best have a good explanation for why you’re not busy managing your redeployment,” Chrysalis said tightly, propping up her cheek on a fist. “Every moment of delay is one less shot fired into the ranks of the traitor scum.” “I… I just wanted to confirm the redeployment orders, Lord General. The enemy is at the eastern continent? Our augur readings haven’t detected any deployments from orbit yet.” “They’re headed there, Commander. The intelligence has been deemed… reliable,” Chrysalis grunted. “I intend to have the full, unified might of Ghessheim’s armies there to meet them.” “Understood, General. Our reserve divisions will be deployed around Xenith to-“ “I said the FULL, UNIFIED might of Ghessheim, did I not?” Chrysalis interrupted blithely. “Commander, I expect every armored vehicle you can get over the ocean to be in Byrecia before the enemy is. By air, by sea, it doesn’t matter. Make them SWIM if you have to. Is that understood?” A tense silence followed, and then the man on the monitor screen saluted. “Very well, Lord General. I will update you when all units are en route.” “Good. I don’t want to hear from you again until you’re on the other side of the ocean, Commander.” Chrysalis jabbed a button on the cogitator console, and the screen banished the vid feed. “Finally. And now for this… thing.” She glared at the ebony object lying on the desk, and her eyes pulsed green. The spike lifted into the air on a pillow of shimmering green power, and then pointed at the cogitator. The base of the cogitator had several open slots and input sockets, and Chrysalis floated the spike toward the one that she guessed would be the best fit. Then she gently – while looking away and shielding her head with her other arm – pushed the device fully into the inload socket. After a few seconds, the cogitator screen flickered and started filling up with nonsense data-screed. Strange noises started coming out of the housing, alternating between an electric hum and loud whirring. Smoke started to leak from the port where the spike had been plugged in, and the device pulsed with eldritch light. Chrysalis leaned back a little further away from the cogitator, grimacing. “Is… Is it working? How do I tell?” A dull bark came from the vox, like a Maulerfiend trying to cough and clear its throat. Then a tortured, electronic voice came from the caster. System propagation initiated. Subverting local data wards… complete. Analyzing noosphere linkage… complete. Pathing corrupted nodes… complete. Initializing mag-pulse. Estimated time to system discharge: 2.09.21 Chrysalis stared at the screen, barely comprehending. Then the cogitator monitor flickered again, briefly displaying a white wheel with eight spike-tipped spokes against a background of static. Then the cogitator screen went dark, and a puff of smoke blasted from the input node. Harvest of Steel Biologis laboratorium sub-section B-12 “Are we done yet? I am SO BORED. At least let me make one of the incisions myself!” “Tellish, it’sh your own fault you’re here. Nobody ashked you to join Equinought Shquadron for their asshault.” “Nobody EVER asks me to join the pony missions! It’s not fair!” “It’sh very fair. The poniesh don’t need your asshishtance, and there were more valuable targetsh for you on the shtation. If you’d only follow ordersh-“ “I did follow orders! Your orders said to grab the data and disable the ship! We did that! It was AWESOME!” “Thoshe were the Equinoughtsh’ ordersh, not yoursh.” “Yeah. I like their orders better, so I went with those. So what? Do you think they would have been able to pull off that mission without me?!” “Yesh, probably. Not leasht becaushe you dishrupted the initial teleport shequence. They would have shtarted right next to the fuel cellsh if not for your interference.” “Blah blah blah blah blah…” “And shince you then sheparated from the resht of the shquadron, all thish wash necesshary to enshure you haven’t been infected by the Geneshtealersh, ash well ash to repair the damage from the rad-pulshe.” “I TOLD you! The stealers never got me! I slaughtered them every time they tried! This is a huge waste of my time!” “That’sh alsho what you’d shay if they did get you. Pipe down.” Tellis was sitting on a pair of laboratory slabs, his legs and arms shackled. One slab supported his legs while another, narrower piece of metal supported his back at an angle to sit him up. His flight pack spread out to either side, where it was held in place by several servo arms and attached cables. His helmet had been partially stripped apart, with plating pried or cut open so that the various probes and needles hanging above could reach the system interior. That interior was a disturbing mix of flesh and machine, with thick layers of muscle-like fibers threaded with circuitry and sensor nodes. The process to conduct the repairs had been lengthy and painstaking, as the armor had long ago fused to its owner. Solon labored over a constantly shifting circle of holo-screens, directing data feeds and guiding the automated chirurgeon in its work. The entire time he also kept a screen open to feed data relevant to the fleet’s orbital situation. Sliver had primary control of the raid in Ghessheim and his operation had proceeded very well so far, but Solon still felt a responsibility to be informed about the progress while he was otherwise occupied. “Did that data hive have anything cool on it?” Tellis asked suddenly. Solon was surprised at the question, but eagerly replied anyway. “Why, yesh! It turnsh out the grand cruisher wash infeshted during a defenshive fleet action in Arghosht! They’re currently fending off a Tyranid incurshion.” “So the ship full of Tyranids was fighting Tyranids. Surprise!” Tellis grumbled. “It’sh much more than that. We have data on the progressh of the invashion, the efforts of the Imperium to push back the hive tendril, and the flow of shuppliesh and refugeesh. The planet ish too far along the processh of infeshtation and conshumption to be shaved, but the Imperial fleetsh have beaten back the tide well enough to evacuate much of the hive citiesh. There will be a great deal of material and pershonnel limping away from Arghosht, all but undefended.” “Can we go to the infested planet instead? It sounds way more fun. Plus I wanna see if Fluttershy can command a ‘Nid army by glaring at them really hard,” Tellis said. “That would not be a good ushe of our time, no.” Solon tapped a holo-screen, and then slid a finger across another. “The final shcansh have been completed. There ish no trace of Tyranid bio-material that we didn’t manage to wash off of you after arrival. The Geneshtealersh never got their clawsh into you after all.” “Told ya,” Tellis grunted. “Can I go now?” The chirurgeon reached down and sealed the open parts of his helmet. A data cord was unplugged, and then small servo arms pushed plates of singed metal back into place over the exposed circuitry. A series of micro-lasers started sealing the plating back together, flashing a web of pink beams around the Raptor Lord’s head. “Jusht a moment and you’ll be ash good ash new.” Solon backed away from the autosurgery as the shackles unlocked and the servo clasps released the armor suit’s flight pack. “Go on. Shtand up. Enshure that all the shuit functionsh are working properly.” Tellis pushed himself up onto the deck, and then twisted sharply left and right. “Feels fine, I guess.” His lightning claws extended, and a short blast of heat came from his flight pack. “All the important parts are on.” Ribbons of power danced between the lightning claws as he activated their disruption field, crackling sharply. “Good. Now then…” Solon’s optics gleamed, transmitting a brief signum code. “What about now?” The light of Tellis’s visor dimmed. His flight pack locked up. The lightning claws stopped glowing. The entire suit seemed to shudder as the micro-motors and fiber-bundles – as well as the more bizarre and profane mechanisms within the daemon armor – all fell completely silent. “… Okay, now something’s wrong.” Tellis lifted up his arm, feeling the unusual tension in the joints. The suit wasn’t as restrictive as an ordinary suit of inactive plate would have been, as the frame was grafted directly to the Raptor’s powerful body by now, but the difference was obvious. “Whatever you did messed it up. It’s not working now.” “Ha ha! Excellent!” Solon crowed. “The killshwitch worksh!” Tellis awkwardly swung around to face the Warsmith. “What?” “I’ve inshtalled a shyshtem killshwitch in your armor’sh primary nodesh. Your shuit will be non-functional sho long ash it ish active.” Another holoscreen appeared in front of Solon featuring an outline of the daemon armor, most of it colored red. “Perhapsh thish will convince you to prioritize your ord-“ The Warsmith was interrupted by a set of inactive – but still quite sharp – lightning claws spearing through the holoscreen, scattering it into a veil of refracted light right before the blades punched directly into Solon’s optics cluster. ??? “All rise! In the name of the Emperor does this session commence!” Dozens of figures slowly stood up along the outer stands within a dimly lit arena. They all wore long cloaks and hoods, and most wore a variety of metal masks or had their faces thoroughly augmented. At the center of the arena was an elevated seat, and upon the seat sat a withered man wearing a skull-shaped mask. Long, winding cables ran from the mask and wound all the way up to the ceiling, and a cluster of emerald green lumens glittered from within the mask’s eye sockets. “Bring the accused!” the man in the skull mask demanded. Space Marines marched forth from the arena entrance, each bearing power blades and heavy shields. In between the ranks of armored superhumans was a single, purple-furred alicorn pony. Her head was down, and heavy mag-shackles were closed around her hooves, wings, and horn. Twilight slowly walked into the center of the arena, and the Space Marines all formed a half-circle behind her and followed within easy striking distance. She briefly peeked to either side to look at the spectators, only to see the cold lights of dozens of expressionless lumens staring at her. Gazing into the face of the skull-masked human was the same, although he at least acknowledged her attention with a nod. “I will serve as adjudicator in the Emperor’s name,” the man said. “You, xeno… do you have a name?” “Twilight Sparkle,” the mare mumbled morosely. “You are hereby accused of murder, theft, and all manner of violent assault common to the trade of piracy. You possess illegal weapons within Imperial territory, and have committed unspeakable heresy against the Emperor of Mankind by traveling with and aiding the forces of Chaos.” “I plead not guilty,” Twilight said, her voice rising slightly. The adjudicator tilted his head slightly to one side. “We don’t really do that here. The Inquisitors have submitted the evidence. All that’s left is the sentencing.” “D-Don’t I get a-“ Twilight’s retort was interrupted by the skull-masked man banging a gavel against his desk. “In the name of the Emperor do I declare you guilty as charged, Twilight Sparkle! You have taken the lives of the Emperor’s servants, however lowly they may be. Now, for your sentence…” The adjudicator paused to look over some notes, and Twilight winced and looked around at the Space Marines surrounding her. Even with the ability to teleport she doubted she’d be able to get away before the guards could dismember her, but the device around her horn prevented any spellcasting anyway. There was no escape. This was it. The final accounting for her short, brutal career of space piracy. The adjudicator banged the gavel again. “I hereby sentence you – in the Emperor’s name – to six months imprisonment and one hundred hours of community service!” he pronounced, his voice rising to fill the arena. “Minus time served, of course.” Twilight gaped, blinking in surprise. “That… That seems… bizarrely lenient? Not that I’m complaining! But, uh… it’s not what I was expecting when I couldn’t even get a fair trial.” “Well the penal colonies aren’t exactly luxury resorts, but yes. As this was your first offense, it seemed appropriate.” Twilight immediately broke into a nervous sweat. “Y-Yes! My first offense! Definitely! I never hurt any Imperial humans before or after this particular incidence!” She wasn’t completely sure which instance she was being sentenced for given that no one had presented any specific details, but she was glad that the court seemed just as disinterested. “Court is adjourned. Take her away.” The adjudicator banged his gavel once more. Then the floor opened up beneath Twilight, and she fell screaming into a pit of absolute darkness. The shackles came apart in midair, or otherwise vanished on their own; when Twilight began flailing in a panic the weight of the thick metal cuffs and their attached chains were gone. About ten seconds into the drop she remembered that she could fly, and Twilight started flapping her wings hard to stabilize herself. Eventually the falling sensation ceased, but Twilight was still completely surrounded by darkness. She considered lowering herself down, but considering how long she had been falling the young Princess didn’t think it was a good idea. This seemed like some kind of death trap, and traditionally there was nothing good to be found at the bottom of death traps. “Hello? Is anyone here?” Twilight asked, her horn lighting up. “Is this part of the prison sentence or the community service sentence? I guess I should have asked before exactly how this works but the skull man seemed like he was kind of in a rush?” The light of her horn did nothing except illuminate her own body. There was nothing else around to be illuminated. Empty void stretched in every direction. The mare whimpered sadly. Energy signature detected. Twilight nearly gasped with surprise and relief when her augmetic marked something ahead of her in the gloom. Without thinking further about it she flew forward, racing to find whatever it was. She flew and flew… for how long? Minutes? Hours? She wasn’t sure. Time seemed to fall away into an indistinguishable blur. But eventually she found it. “It” was an object floating in the void. It was hard to say much more about it than that; the glow of her horn didn’t illuminate the thing so much as the magical light bent around it in ways that made it hard to see anything but the outer contours. It was vaguely box-shaped, and almost as big as an adult pony. “What… What is it?” Twilight whispered, reaching out a hoof toward the object. Scanning… Warning! Scan failure. Error code 94113-C. Energy signature unknown. Radiation scan inconclusive. Carbon scan inconclusive. Psionic resonance scan… …… ……… ………… Twilight quickly grew impatient with her augmetic as it failed to return a result. “Well it’s the only thing here, and a radiation and bio-contamination scan being inconclusive is LIKE returning a negative result,” she reasoned. With a thought, the Princess banished the readout from her augmetic eye and stretched out a hoof toward the object. The moment she touched its surface, reality around her rippled like the surface of a disturbed pond. Twilight beheld a massive cavern – artificially constructed, if the large pipes and crumbling masonry was any indication – with dozens of humans inside huddled on the floor. Directly in front of her, with hands on the mystery object, was a man in a black hood and robe, weeping openly. “Please, help us! The gods of the Warp, or anyone else who can! They’re killing us! We don’t have any more time!” Twilight was stunned. “Who… Who are you?” The figure jolted to attention, looking around for the source of the voice. His figure was indistinct, and hidden by inexplicable shadows. Still, Twilight hovered over the mysterious object and listened intently, one hoof extended to lay on its side. “What? Is somebody there? Help!” “I’m here. How can I help?” Twilight asked. “Who are you? Where is this place?” “We are forsaken! Cast out from the Imperium and hunted like animals! Can you help us?” the man begged. “It worked… praise the gods, it actually worked!” “Yes! I’ll help!” Twilight said firmly. “This will be a good start to the community service part of my sentence!” She looked around at the cavern again. “I still don’t know where I am, though.” The hooded man continued speaking, but the sound of his voice suddenly got weaker and became unintelligible, as if it were stolen by the wind. Before she could speak again her surroundings suddenly blurred away into a rush of light and color. After a second it stabilized. Twilight was hovering over a massive pit riddled with pipes and shattered rockcrete. Vegetation was sprouting all over the area, giving it the distinct look of ancient ruins that had been reclaimed by nature. Twilight continued hovering, speechless. After a few more seconds of observation the scenery moved again, and Twilight felt like the ground simply dropped out underneath her, falling further and further away until the ruins were lost in a patchwork of green and blue. Much of the terrain was further obscured beneath a layer of clouds after that. Soon enough the movement of the ground below slowed, but by that point it was no longer observable as a particular ruin or even a recognizable jungle. Twilight beheld the entire world as one would from high orbit; a pearl of green, blue, and white sitting in a expanse of star-riddled void. What’s more, Twilight recognized this particular world. She wasn’t used to identifying planets at a glance – she certainly wouldn’t be able to identify her home world if it was shown to her – but this one had the benefit of being shown to her very recently, and had also tugged briefly at her academic curiosity. “Ulaisse. The capital moon,” Twilight mumbled to herself. The object under her hoof pulsed, and more text appeared in her augmetic. Save them. Save me. Time is short. The light of the stars vanished, and darkness consumed Twilight’s vision. Harvest of Steel Deck C-13 – Twilight Sparkle’s quarters Twilight awoke with a gasp, lurching upward to stand on her bed. Her eyes were wide and her wings were spread, as if she were preparing to take off. She would have activated the spell to summon her power armor too, but the sudden transition to consciousness and burst of activity left her slightly dizzy. Spike blinked. He was standing just inside the doorway, holding a small arc welder. “Ah, did I wake you up? Sorry.” He waddled over to his bunk and then put the torch down. “I found those ponies in the lunch room and did what I could with their furnace. It still burns way too hot, but I think I managed to stop the problem where the heat suddenly surges.” Twilight whipped her head back and forth, scrutinizing her surroundings. She was in her quarters back on the Harvest of Steel. An empty ration tin lay on the floor, while a dataslate slick with drool was laying on the end of her bunk where her pillow usually was. The dataslate display had an image of a Tyranid Lictor on one side, with most of the screen taken up by explanatory text and smaller diagrams. “I’m not in jail!” the Princess said brightly. “More interesting dreams?” Spike mumbled. Twilight nodded sharply. “Yeah… really interesting. Almost… Almost like it wasn’t really a dream…” While her experience with the illusory Imperial court was fuzzy and rapidly slipping from her memory, the interior of the strange cavern seemed perfectly clear when she recalled it. “… I need to talk to someone about this. I think I may have received a rescue mission.” Twilight admitted, rubbing a hoof against her chin. “What? In your dreams?” “Communications in dreams aren’t really new to us, although this felt very different from Luna’s dreamwalking. I think someone needs help!” “That makes sense. I think a lot of people in the system need help right now. Mostly because we’re shooting at them and taking their stuff,” Spike pointed out. “Okay, yes, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t come from THEM,” Twilight retorted. “I’m going to go speak to Solon about this. He probably has more information.” She hopped down from her bed and trotted out the door. “Okay, I’ll, uh… clean up here, I guess,” Spike mumbled as the door slid shut behind him. Twilight summoned her armor while in transit, activating the visor and using it to lock on to Solon’s position. Luckily he was still on board; she didn’t know if the Warsmith had any plans to join the raiding force assaulting the hive city, but at present he was in the primary biologis laboratorium. There was a facility lockdown but it had no quarantine alert, meaning the interior shouldn’t be dangerous. After a moment spent studying the floor map, she recognized the particular lab facility. It was the same one she and the rest of the boarding team had been ushered into after they had escaped the Blessed Redemption. They had spent over four hours inside, being repeatedly scanned and jabbed with needle probes. Twilight didn’t particularly think it odd that Solon was still in the lab. If something caught his attention then he’d probably spend the rest of the system invasion studying it. She relaxed her pace and walked up to the entrance. A crash came from within, followed by several slamming noises. Twilight flinched and stopped just outside the door. Another crashing noise came from the other side, followed by the sound of something hard cracking. “What in Celestia’s name…” Twilight amplified the sonic reception in her helmet’s autosenses, trying to decipher what was happening before she potentially exposed herself to it. The violent noises didn’t become any clearer, but with the sound up she could make out the movement of ceramite and metal against each other. Whatever was going on, it involved someone in power armor. The young Princess set her jaw, and then charged up a teleport spell. Harvest of Steel Biologis laboratorium sub-section B-12 Twilight materialized in a swirl of purple magic, her legs and wings spread for maximum readiness. She did not have her weapon drawn; experience had taught her that Astartes disliked aliens teleporting into locked areas with weapons drawn, and she always endeavored not to upset her good friends the Chaos Space Marines. Her plan was to enter, survey, and if necessary evade and escape. The second step of her plan was foiled when a giant, bleeding maggot slapped against her helmet visor. “YEEEEEEEK!!” she recoiled in shock, flinging her head from side to side to shake off the creature. It was nearly the size of an eggplant, and it oozed a filthy yellow slime from a deep gash. Eventually Twilight flung the maggot to the ground, and then she at last got an unobstructed (give or take a few streaks of slime) view of the laboratorium. The first thing she noticed, if only because he was the largest and scariest thing in the room, was Tellis. The Chaos Lord lifted a boot and then stomped on the deck, generating a sharp clanging noise as a wash of ichor splashed under his greaves. Then he swiped a hand through the air, grabbing a wasp out of the air and crushing it in his fist. Tellis was moving more awkwardly than usual and was noticeably slower, but he was still fast enough to kill the insects crawling and buzzing around him. That brought her attention to the second thing she noticed: the entire laboratorium was overrun with insects. Roaches and beetles scuttled about the floor, dashing around squirming maggots and writhing centipedes. Large black flies and spine-riddled wasps flew through the air or rested on the walls and desks. At first Twilight thought the bugs might have been swarming to attack Tellis, but after a few seconds of watching the scene she was sure it was the opposite; the insects were confused and directionless, and Tellis was methodically crushing and smashing them. Finally, and most alarmingly, Warsmith Solon was lying in a collapsed heap on the side of the laboratorium. His chassis had been smashed into a wall such that his torso hung limply to one side, many of his mechatendrils had been ripped out, and the Warsmith’s head was missing. Insects of various types and sizes scrambled in, out, and around the heap of wasted metal, obviously unsure as to where they would be safest. Twilight stared at the cluster of ripped wires and wandering antennae sticking out of Solon’s neck, and then she felt a surge of heat run through her horn. It wasn’t the painful, ominous burn of Warp corruption this time. This time her horn burned with righteous anger, and the force harmonizer quivered in psychic sympathy. “WHAT THE HAY IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” Twilight screamed. Tellis was just winding up to slam a fist onto the wall to paste another wasp. At Twilight’s shout he hesitated, and the bug took off in a panic. The Chaos Lord stared at Twilight, and then glanced down at the spots of slime and ichor that were scattered over his armor. “… Is this a trick question, or what?” Tellis asked. “What’s it look like?” An aura of magical fire surged around the Princess, surrounding her in shining flame. “Why did you take Solon’s head off?!” “The jackass turned off my armor!” Tellis raged, stomping his boot on the floor and reducing a stray centipede to paste. “Turn it back on!” The aura around Twilight dimmed slightly. “Wh-What? Turn it on? Me? But-“ “You’re a nerd! Figure it out!” the Chaos Lord demanded, pointing at the armored pony. Twilight hesitated, but after a moment of staring at the Khornate warrior her augmetic eye bracketed his power armor. A diagram layout flashed red, and then data-screed started lining her vision around Tellis. System code ‘Nosferuus Circuit’ scanned. Power core off-line. System check: nominal. Datalink identified: system killswitch is engaged. Disengage? y/n “… If I turn your armor back on, are you just going to use it to stab Solon some more?” Twilight asked suspiciously. “You should be a lot less worried about what happens to him and more worried about what happens to YOU, dork,” Tellis snarled. “Don’t think you can bully me like the others!” the Princess snapped back. “I’m not afraid of you!” The Raptor Lord stomped up to her, his armor clanking loudly with every step. It was obvious in the way the joints scraped and bounced that the suit was inactive, but the weight of the armor didn’t seem remotely as bothersome to Tellis as it did to a pony in the same situation. “If you’re not afraid, I can fix that.” Without active helmet systems he lacked the ghastly glare and booming voice he usually possessed, but Twilight still felt a tremor of absolute terror run down her spine while staring up at the clawed goliath. “How about I tear a wing off? Or cut out that fancy new eye of yours? Gimme one good reason not to.” “Because… if you hurt me… Rainbow Dash will be sad,” Twilight said, fighting to keep her voice steady. For several long seconds, Tellis and Twilight stared at each other. The insects scurrying and buzzing around seemed to slow down, sensing a lull in the tension. Tellis straightened, crossed his arms over his chest, and then groaned. “Aw, crap. She would be, wouldn’t she? I can’t do that to her.” Tellis sighed, slumping forward and letting his arms hang loose. “Fine, you win. Turn my armor back on and I won’t stab you or the Boss Nerd.” Twilight was fairly stunned that he had backed down so easily, but immediately seized on the admission. “Really? You promise?” “Yeah. Just do the thing, okay? I hate how my wings just keep dragging on the floor.” “… Do you Pinkie Promise?” “Don’t push it,” Tellis snapped, causing the mare to wince. “I’m not taking any oaths related to the psycho pony. We still don’t know how she got all those Dreadnought shells.” “All right! All right, fine! I’ll help you.” She focused again on his torso plate, which started the previous access sequence again in her optical screen. “I just KNOW I’m going to regret this, but hopefully less than I would regret refusing and trying to put Solon back together with you bugging me.” “Slightly, yeah,” Tellis agreed. Twilight’s augmetic pulsed, shining even beneath the helmet optics. Tellis’s armor quivered, and he felt a reassuring tingle around the many places where the suit’s wiring had burrowed into his flesh. After a moment his wings lifted, their power finally restored. The power fields around his lightning claws came back on, suddenly shrouding the worn and slightly bent talons in crackling red energy. Finally his visor systems rebooted, fully restoring the only visual interface he’d known for centuries yet steadfastly refused to learn anything about. “It worked! Now I just gotta beat up a Techpriest and make them remove the stupid engram codex,” Tellis promptly started striding toward the laboratorium entrance, and the various bugs standing or hovering in his way scrambled out of his path in a panic. “Wait!” Twilight started looking back and forth anxiously, scanning the room. “Do you know why the insects emerged? What am I supposed to do here? And where is his head?” “Don’t know, don’t care, and I think it landed behind the big bio-tank.” Tellis stabbed a pair of claws into the door’s mag-lock and then twisted his arm, relishing the sound of metal being carved and vaporized by his energized blades. “Later, dweebs!” He threw the door open and strolled into the hall with a surprisingly cheerful gait. Twilight whimpered slightly as several unidentifiable arthropods clambered over her greaves, sweeping her armor with their antennae and chittering noisily. Granted she was in a sealed and pressurized suit of power armor so she wasn’t really worried about the creatures harming or even touching her, but Solon’s swarm insects tended to be the sort that were covered in slime, spines, and pulsating flesh sacs. Given the experience she’d had with various incarnations related to Nurgle, she felt she was completely justified being nervous. “Okay. Focus, Sparkle. Step one: find the head. That’s what Gaela did the first time this happened.” She slowly moved toward the tank Tellis had indicated, staring straight forward. Her ears twitched within her helmet, keened for and dreading the sickening crunch of carapace under her hooves. Miraculously the bugs seemed to give her an adequate berth, skittering ahead of her and swarming around the glass cylinder mounted in the floor. Twilight looked behind it, and then she gagged at the sight of a broken Astartes helmet teeming with frantic insects. Solon’s head was sitting upright on the deck with a very conspicuous hole in the primary optics cluster over the left eye. A centipede hung from the opening, its fangs wiggling menacingly. “I have never been so happy to be able to move things without touching them as I am at this very moment,” Twilight mumbled, taking up the armor in her telekinesis. Nearly a dozen giant wasps circled her while the helmet lifted up, and strings of unidentifiable goop squirming with life oozed from the interior. Twilight considered tilting it on its side so that she could look into the bottom, but quickly discarded the idea; she wasn’t sure she could stomach closer study. “Okay, so… now what?” she asked with a whimper. “I don’t know what Gaela did to help him. I should just go get her now that I’ve secured hi-“ One of the projectors around the optics cluster flickered on, and Twilight yelped when a holoscreen appeared in the air ahead of her with a close-up of Sliver’s helmet. “Lord Warssmith, the attack…” Sliver trailed off immediately, staring at the bizarre sight that no doubt greeted him on his end of the vid feed. Then his gaze turned slightly to the pony levitating Solon’s severed head. “Ssparkle… may I asssume you have an explanation for thiss?” “Tellis did it!” Twilight yelped. “I swear, he was like this when I found him!” Sliver held his gaze for several long seconds, and Twilight felt her heartbeat start to pick up while she stared back. “I believe you,” Sliver finally said. “Tell me, has the sswarm yet retreated within the armor?” “Uh… I don’t…” Twilight cocked her head to one side, and then glanced back at the hulk of machinery at the side of the laboratorium. Many of the insects were crawling toward it and squirming inside it now, clambering over the inert legs and into the vents and gaps between the plating from whence they had presumably emerged. Meanwhile, several wasps and flies had landed on Solon’s helmet and were crawling inside the mess of wiring and sickening ooze. “I think so, yes. Do you… know what’s going on with that, by any chance?” Twilight asked nervously, facing the holoscreen again. “I have no explanation that would ssatissfy you, Ssparkle,” Sliver grumbled. “Now energize the helmet.” The armored Princess didn’t understand at all, but she gently lowered Solon’s head onto the floor. Her horn casing started to glow, and the bugs crawling on the damaged armor sped up their panicked squirming to get inside. A small spark of purple lightning started lashing around her horn tip, and after a few seconds it leapt onto the helmet. The holoscreen flickered, and a dusty snort came from the vox transmitter. “You can do better than that,” Sliver grunted. “Well… I guess, but I don’t want to hurt him!” Twilight protested. “He’ss been decapitated, Princesss. What further harm do you imagine you could inflict with a mere sspark?” “I have no idea! This is so far outside of my understanding of medical science and biology! Even the magical types! What if I-“ A series of clicking noises suddenly came from the helmet, and the optics lumens lit up. Twilight gasped and stepped back, shielding herself in case of some kind of adverse reaction (or infectious discharge). “Ugh… Gleah… Aaag…” said the decapitated helmet. “You have joined uss again, Warssmith. Good.” Sliver promptly moved on with his message. “We’ve detected a ssignum pulsse within the target hive. It wass generated by a grid overload within the hive ssphere’ss power relayss. The Queen wass ssucesssful after all.” Another undecipherable noise came from Solon’s head, and Sliver continued. “The hive’ss augurss should be compromissed by the viruss and itss defenderss redeploying away from the target. I am launching the asssault.” A burbling sigh came from the helmet. “Urgh… good. Do… Do that,” Solon sputtered weakly. “Iron within. Iron without.” Sliver cut the link, and the holoscreen winked out of sight. “Uh… so…” Twilight shifted uncomfortably while standing behind Solon’s decapitated head. “Do I just… put you back on top of your neck? Do I need to screw anything in, or…?” “Shparkle? Oh, you’re here. Good. My immediate awarenesh ish… fractured, shomewhat. Pleashe return me to my body.” Once again the helmet was lifted by a bubble of violet magic, but this time Twilight carried it along toward the hulk of shredded metal on the side of room. She wordlessly levitated it higher until it was hovering just over the cracked metal pipe and mess of wiring that jutted from his gorget. She started to tilt the helmet so that it would fit back into place, but she hesitated and looked around. The laboratorium was empty. All the insects were gone. Aside from the bits of ichor and smashed carapace from the ones that Tellis had squashed, it was as if they’d never existed. Twilight looked back up at the Warsmith. “There’s probably a better time to ask this, but… what exactly is in your helmet right now?” “You can look if you want, but you won’t like it,” Solon warned. The Princess felt another surge of nausea welling up in her stomach, and she quickly put Solon’s head back into place. “There. Uh… is there another step? Are you… okay now?” “No, I’m not.” The legs of Solon’s chassis twitched and groaned, and the machinery within started to slowly shift the Warsmith back into a standing position. His head sat awkwardly in his gorget while he moved, tilted slightly to one side and unable to turn. “Nonethelesh: thank you, little one. It sheems I undereshtimated the Mad Angel yet again.” Twilight shifted uncomfortably, looking back at some of the smears that once used to be revolting, infectious insects. Then she looked back up at Solon. “So, you installed a killswitch and turned off his armor? And he STILL beat you?” “Did you want shomething?” Solon grumbled. “If you jusht came to help me, thank you, but you can go now. I have a lot of welding to do.” “Oh! Right! Yes!” The young Princess trotted up in front of the hulking Iron Warrior, craning her neck to look into his visor. “I had a dream that I believe may have been a psychic transmission!” “Oh? How intereshting!” Solon said. He moved to adjust his helmet with his arm to stand it up straight, and the shift caused a wet squelching noise. “It ish common for Imperial shettlementsh to communicate ushing ashtropathsh, who shend messhagesh through the Warp rather than ushing mundane meansh limited to the paltry shpeed of light. Quite shtrange that you may have intercepted one, but pshionicsh can be like that.” “I… don’t think that’s what this was,” Twilight said cautiously. “It wasn’t directed to anyone in particular, and it seemed to be transmitted in this system and to this system. It was like… a distress beacon!” “Huh. Well, we are caushing a great deal of dishtressh, I’m sure,” Solon admitted. “Odd that they’d be cashting out for aid in-shyshtem, though. If there were any Imperial asshetsh capable of shtopping ush, they probably would have done sho.” “That’s just it. I don’t think this message came from the Imperials. In fact… I think it’s someone pleading to help escape them!” Solon halted, and his torso swiveled about. His head was still held in place with one arm, which gave his motions a very awkward, surreal quality. “Really? Well, that’sh even more intereshting. Where exactly did thish plea come from? Could you tell?” Twilight nodded eagerly. “Yes… it came from the capital moon. Ulaisse.” “… Oh dear. That’sh quite a problem.” All battle groups, proceed to your transports and prepare for atmospheric deployment! Jerriha grimaced up at the vox caster while the other Fire Warriors trudged into the back of a Valkyrie gunship. With a deep sigh she slung a belt of grenades over her shoulder and followed them. “Another day, another war zone. The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Spearhead battalions will make planetfall on the edge of the enemy’s effective interception range. There will be no muster. Advance to your assigned target zones, slay all that stand in your way, and let the False Emperor’s slaves tremble before our might! “Well it’s about bloomin’ time,” Kiss sighed. Servo arms swiveled down from the top of the passenger bay, latching onto the armor of her and her squad. “We were lollygagging for so long I was starting to wonder if they’d decided to skip the planet raid.” “Yo, pilot! Make sure you land us at the front!” barked Steely Lathe. “They don’t want me flying around too much until the anti-air guns are down, so I don’t wanna have to walk there!” Steely hopped up onto one of the pony pens that were stacked atop one another on the side of the transport, wriggling into the claustrophobic metal cage with a grunt of annoyance. “Oh my, what an adventure we have ahead of us!” Shifty giggled while the access ramp closed behind her. “So many paths! So many wonders! So many terrible endings!” She trotted up to another cell of the pens and ducked inside, oblivious or indifferent to the glares of Phage Squadron on the opposite side of the transport bay. The entrance sealed itself, and the rumble of the gunship engine soon filled the vehicle. Once again, the Harvest of Steel will fill its belly with the labors of fools and cowards! Once again, our blades will cull the unworthy who would challenge us! Once again, the Imperium will gaze upon its fallen bastions and shattered armies! Once again, the Dark Gods will make their bloody mark upon the weak! Wyatt Daniels hefted his rail rifle and mumbled a prayer under his breath while his squad marched into the transport. Men entered first, sitting on the benches before launch harnesses dropped down to clamp over their shoulders. Ponies entered next, their more compact frames fitting into the grid of stacked pens secured over the other side. Hi everyone! Pinkie Pie here! The cheerful, sing-song voice coming from the vox immediately snapped the mercenaries out of their gloomy pre-combat preparations, and they looked up at the vox caster in shock and wonder. We won’t be heading onto the planet with the rest of you this time, but I want you all to know that we’re rooting for you! Get out there and do your best, okay? We’re gonna have SUCH a big party when you get back, just you wait! Also we seem to be running kind of low on sugar, so if you guys wanna loot a bakery or something while you’re down there that’d be swell. Thanks! Love ya! A sudden banging noise and the sound of muted shouting came from the vox. Daniels smiled, and then chuckled to himself. A gruff coughing noise came from the vox as the Valkyrie’s engines started up. Yes, well. As I was saying: Death to the False Emperor! Glory to the Dark Gods! IRON WITHIN! IRON WITHOUT! “Iron within!” shouted the ponies far too cheerfully, shaking the cages with their exuberance. “Iron without!” The transport launched, rocketing into the cold, listless void. Below the gunship, and a swarm of numerous others, the ocean hive world of Ghessheim V sparkled like a gem against the light of the system’s star.