//------------------------------//
// Preparations 
// Story: Nightwatch: The Elements of Destruction 
// by SFaccountant 
//------------------------------//

Nightwatch – The Elements of Destruction
By SFaccountant


Chapter 2
Preparations





Ferrous Dominus sector 20
Regiment hall

Rain beat down on the armorglass windows, punctuated by the occasional crack of thunder. Night had fallen yet again and the lumens of Ferrous Dominus glittered across the fortress city, distorted as they were from the storm. Occasional bellows from vox systems announced train schedules or warned against exposure to the rainfall; substantial acidic fluid and heavy toxins were routinely part of the weather, as any resident knew.

Within the halls of Nightwatch, bat ponies lined up in ranks in full combat gear. Most of the thestral soldiers wore a MkIII equine combat suit; a light armor mesh that was combined with a few key plates and covered by tough, leathery fabrics that could have been mistaken for normal outerwear. The suit protected from penetration and helped absorb intense heat but did little to deflect or block impacts. The benefit was that it weighed little and made little noise during rapid movement, allowing for maximum stealth and aerial mobility.

Other ponies, including Dusk Blade himself, wore the older MkII equine armor, a suit of ceramic plates mostly recycled from Tau equipment. The armor was much more effective, but also much heavier, and some ponies couldn’t fly easily while wearing it. Rows of black splinter rifles, the alien weapon adopted by the Lunar Guard, stood next to most of the soldiers in their ballistic braces, but there was a block in the middle that carried more elaborate weapons.

The echo cannons were strange, baroque constructions; tubes with weird carvings on the mouth to look like the jaws of daemons or the grille of a large vox caster. They were riddled with strange devices and had long cables that wound back into the user’s armor, connecting the gun to battery packs. The cannons were surprisingly lightweight but still quite cumbersome, and also required the heavier MkII armor to integrate the weapon and protect its battery.

Dusk spotted Nacht, who was almost completely obscured by the pair of big stallions on either side of her. The neon highlights of her mane and the shock orange face mask let her stand out among the rows of gray, blue, and purple heads, but frankly it was easier for his echolocation to just pick out the smallest pony in the heavy weapons group. Her cannon was strapped onto her back between her wings, and from the sight of her it was hard to imagine the mare could fly at all with all the wargear clamped onto her body.

Neuron Dialect was on the opposite side of the hall, standing stock still with her head down. She was wearing the lighter MkIII armor, with a ragged hood added on top of the suit. In one wing, butt placed on the floor and barrel aimed straight up, she held an ornate long gun that was very different from the twisted, blade-tipped rifles that most of the other ponies had.

Dusk detected something approaching from above. Many somethings. He twisted his head around to watch as several more bat ponies entered from hatches in the ceiling, flying onto the awning perches that hung over each side of the hall. These soldiers all wore the heavier MkII suits, and they all carried personal combat blades along with the rest of their armament. Most distinctively, however, these thestrals all had colorful, unique markers painted onto their flank plating, and every one of them was female.

Bloodborne.

“Ah, I see the Queen decides to grace us with her presence,” Midnight Blaze mumbled while standing next to Dusk. “She didn’t show up for the last inspection. I guess she got a talking to.”

Empyra, the self-styled Queen of the Bloodborne, swooped down to land in the middle of the row of armored mares. She was considerably larger than the ponies around her, especially in wingspan, and the other mares quickly shifted to make room, with a few simply jumping off into the air to clear out and find a different spot. She wore no armor herself, but possessed a night-black magical cloak and a necklace of Ork teeth. Dusk doubted she took them from Orks she had personally killed, but it was hardly outside the realm of possibility. While her humiliating loss to a single human mercenary was well-known, and she wasn’t organized into a combat unit herself, she was rumored to be a terrifying opponent with an array of strange powers.

Empyra started scanning the ranks below, and for a brief moment she and Dusk made eye contact. The Queen’s gaze lingered uncertainly but then broke away, studying the other thestrals. Dusk finally looked away several seconds after she did.

Across the room from him, staring straight forward among another row of Lunar Guard, was Gloom Fang. Like Dusk he had the more common Lunar Guard armament and wore the heavier MkII armor, complete with a pair of adamantium talons on his boots. Dusk made eye contact only briefly, and the purple stallion immediately winked back.

The doors to the hall yawned open.

“ATTEN-SHUN!!” Midnight barked, staring straight ahead. The ponies that weren’t already similarly posed quickly moved to copy her. The Bloodborne stopped milling about and stood up straight, shoulder-to-shoulder. Even Empyra adjusted her poise, although she continued to study the hall below her.

A hoof clad in charcoal black armor stepped onto the deck, and Princess Luna entered the hall. She wore her full suit of armor along with the helmet, but soon after entering the helmet disengaged. The plating broke apart into tiny hexagons of metal that each then slid down into the gorget to form a disordered morass of black and gold shards. It was an utterly bizarre – and as far as Dusk could tell, totally unique – mechanism, and it fascinated him each time he saw it.

Walking beside the Lunar Princess was General Harlin. An old man by Chaos standards, his face was weathered and scarred, with one eye replaced with a bionic peripheral that was extended over about a quarter of his head. The other side of his face was scrawled with odd tattoos, including the obligatory eight-pointed star.

“GOOD EVENING, LEGION OF THE NIGHT!!” Luna shouted while she advanced, immediately causing a wave of cringing bats among the ranks. “THIS IS TO BE THY-“

Harlin cleared his throat loudly, interrupting her. Luna glanced over to him, and the man shook his head firmly with an irritated expression.

“Ah, it seems the good General shalt handle thy briefing then. Very well.” Luna seemed somewhat disappointed, but she relented.

“I will dispense with the pleasantries and move on to the strategic outlook,” Harlin said, slowly walking down the hall with Luna by his side. “As many of you know, we have engaged in multiple skirmishes with a new enemy in the western badlands. These… Keepers are still a mystery in many respects, the most important of which being where they nest and manufacture their weapons.”

Harlin stopped walking and craned his neck up, staring straight at Empyra. “We have deployed many probes and regional augurs to aid us, but almost all of them have been destroyed and salvaged, thanks to our OLD enemy: the Orks.”

Hisses and grumbles came from many of the thestrals, and even Dusk found it in him to offer an irritated sneer. Although the Ork presence within Equestria had been purged, the warmongering aliens had quickly spread to nearly every other corner of the continent, and perhaps the entire world. They were a constant, permanent threat now, and it was only through constant skirmishes and extermination raids that they would be stopped from amassing an army that could overwhelm the rest of the planet.

“Numerous warbands were pushed into the badlands after the battle of Ponyville. The environment is hostile and resources sparse, which means that the xeno thugs are thriving, of course. Our recent activity in the area has brought even more, as the Orks who retreated from our armies before regroup and seek out the next battle. Camps and nomadic raiders have propagated rapidly throughout the region, and any strike force or patrol is at serious risk of being encircled.”

“At our request, the Company hast granted this next task to us!” Luna announced, apparently unable to keep her excitement to herself. “Upon the morrow, once We raise the moon, our army shalt take to the wastes under cover of darkness!”

“This is a reconnaissance operation, not an assault,” Harlin continued, giving the Princess an annoyed frown. “While we have the assets for a major deployment, the fleet possesses most of our aerial units and frequent dust storms obscure our orbital scopes, so we will use Equestrians to find the enemy’s camps and patrols. Your units will be split into small deployments and sent on long routes through the hostile zone to locate outposts and assets for bombardment and assault later. The identification of barracks, vehicle manufactures, and munitions stockpiles are a priority.”

“We are to seek out the enemy, yet not slay them?” Empyra suddenly leapt from her perch, spreading her wings and swooping down to land in front of Luna and Harlin. “Why do you not simply send your tanks and soldiers to follow us? We should attack together, immediately, while they are unaware and vulnerable!”

Luna frowned, but General Harlin replied calmly. “We do not know if and where they are vulnerable, which is why we require your aid, Queen.” Harlin approached the mare while she glared at him. “You may engage the foe at your discretion should you find a sufficiently ripe target, and we will have beacons available for you to request artillery support. But this is not an assault mission and I advise against rushing into the teeth of an Ork warband.”

Empyra snorted, walking around the General while glaring up at him. “I dislike how we were forced into this alliance under the premise of creating a unified front that could vanquish these wretched aliens, yet we are constantly asked to perform petty tasks far away from the support of your mutated super-soldiers and monstrous war machines. Yes, we are spared the harshest fighting, but we are also denied the highest glories,” she complained.

Harlin smirked, reaching out and petting the thestral queen atop her head. She flinched at the contact, and a flush crossed her cheeks when he started to rub her head.

“You are a formidable lot, and I respect your battle lust, Queen. Perhaps a more dangerous assignment can be arranged if you wish to challenge your warriors. And if the presence of our machines brings you comfort, you will have the support of a few Strider packs during this mission, meager as they are.” He shifted his hand to scratch her behind the ears, and a slight quiver rolled through her body. “But for now, I ask that you leave the strategy to us. Orks are to be fought with superior tactics and technical efficiency, not raw valor.”

Empyra started to nod reluctantly, and then heard a stifled giggle coming from behind her. Suddenly realizing what she must look like, she twisted her head around, biting at Harlin’s hand. The General pulled his arm back just in time, her jaws snapping shut bare millimeters from his fingers.

“Now then, we shall proceed with inspection,” Harlin announced, clasping his hands behind his back and walking forward as if nothing had happened. “Once complete, your squad leads will join us in the strategium for assignment.”

Princess Luna arched an eyebrow at Empyra, who scowled and turned away with her cheeks burning red enough to see through her coat. “If thou art finished, ‘Queen,’ is this the attire thou wouldst don to face the alien hordes? How bold!” From her expression one could tell she was less than impressed, despite her words.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of bumming around the fleet’s Warsmith until he makes us some toys to get rid of us,” Empyra sneered back. “You don’t have to worry about me, Princess.”

“How could I not? After thy humiliation in single combat by a human, to face the greenskin hordes-“

“I WAS HAVING AN OFF NIGHT AND HADN’T FOUGHT IN THE ARENA FOR YEARS OKAY HE GOT LUCKY!!”


General Harlin ignored the mares arguing behind him and walked stiffly through the hall, his eyes darting back and forth. The thestrals stared back at him with cold glares and irritated sneers wherever faces could be seen instead of respirator masks and multi-spectrum visors. The humans were not terribly popular among the bat ponies; while the equines held some respect for the mercenary soldiers and treated the Iron Warriors with enough strict deference to avoid getting ventilated by bolter fire, the human officers were widely resented. The other humans that labored in the fleet – from the exhausted menials to the mysterious Dark Techpriests – were mostly treated as servants, with polite indifference so far as their labors were useful. Such an attitude toward the workers was easily accepted by the 38th Company, given that most of the sapiens felt the exact same way.

Harlin stopped in front of Neuron Dialect, tilting his head to the side. Neuron didn’t look up at him, still staring directly ahead with her eyes hidden by her hood. A few of the nearby thestrals tensed, wondering if they too would be subjected to the strange and humiliating habit that humans had of stroking ponies’ manes and ears uninvited. Neuron Dialect didn’t react in such a way, giving no recognition at all of the man’s presence.

“Present arms,” Harlin commanded, turning toward the purple mare.

Neuron’s ears twitched. Then she flipped up her rifle into her wing, wrapping it around the barrel and holding it out toward the General, stock-first.

Harlin wordlessly took the weapon and held it up parallel to the ground. It had the look of an antique hunting rifle, with a stock and body of polished wood. The frame was an ornately crafted silvery alloy with a revolving ammunition cylinder and brass fittings. It looked completely unfamiliar to most of the bat ponies, including those who knew the rest of the armory quite well.

“This is a galvanic rifle,” Harlin announced, rolling the cylinder open and checking the ammunition. “How did you acquire this?”

“The previous owner didn’t need it anymore,” Neuron replied, still staring straight forward.

Harlin’s lip twitched into a smirk. The property of fallen soldiers technically belonged to the Company’s armory of course, but the 38th Company was, in the end, a pirate fleet; looting the dead was second nature and only punished in special circumstances. This didn’t sit as well with the Dark Mechanicus, who were doubtless the division previously in possession of this particular gun and frequently objected to their more exotic weaponry falling into “lesser” hands. As far as Harlin was concerned, if they couldn’t keep their tools secure from mere ponies then the equines probably deserved them more.

“I see you don’t have a ballistic brace. Can you fire this weapon without it?” Harlin asked, holding the rifle out for Neuron to pick up again. The gun had not been modified in any apparent way to accommodate non-humans, which meant it retained an ordinary trigger under a small metal guard. Quite inaccessible to hooves. It also lacked a scope of any sort, or even simple iron sights.

“Yes,” Neuron Dialect replied, placing her front hooves under the rifle to take it back. She still didn’t make eye contact, her upper face shrouded by the hood.

Harlin turned around to face the other side of the room and approached the tallest stallion in the front row. “Remain still,” he ordered, removing a water canister from his belt.

The stallion arched a brow as Harlin placed the canister on top of his head, settling it between his ears. “What is this?”

General Harlin turned back around to address Neuron. “Show me.”

“WHAT IS THIS?!” the bat pony asked again, this time with much more urgency.

Neuron Dialect flipped the rifle around in her hooves, lifting the barrel with one foreleg to aim while using the other to hold the stock against her shoulder. Then her wing wrapped around under her foreleg and slipped the finger on the peak behind the trigger guard, giving the trigger a firm squeeze. The entire process took barely a second, so quick that most of the observers missed the brief red glow of her bionic eyes under her hood.





The galvanic rifle fired, emitting a blue flash and a fierce crack from the muzzle. The stallion yelped as the canister on his head was ripped in half by the gunshot, spilling water over his head. The thestrals next to him flinched away but quickly reigned in their sense of alarm as it became clear that no one had been hurt.

“Superb,” General Harlin said, withdrawing a cloth and dropping it on the soaked stallion’s head. “As you were.” Then he continued walking down the line.

Harlin walked by Dusk Blade without a lingering glance, performing the rest of the inspection without interruption or distraction. Luna and Empyra followed him at a sedate pace, with the former looking over her troops with pride and approval and the latter with grim contempt. Dusk’s attention lapsed, and soon his thoughts were consumed by the mysterious dark glade and bat ponies long dead.

Eventually General Harlin reached the end of the hall and he turned around. “Tactical officers are to proceed to the strategium for route assignment. The rest of you are dismissed, although you will be expected to review the terrain of your patrol area before sunrise. That will be all.” Then he straightened and shouted, “IRON WITHIN!”

“IRON WITHOUT!!!” Luna added excitedly, her flight pack spreading as she bellowed the words loudly enough to send the nearest bat ponies reeling.

Absolutely no one else in the hall joined her chant, and the other thestrals started breaking ranks and moving to leave. Luna looked somewhat embarrassed at the lack of reaction, with her cheeks puffing up while she looked back and forth at the Lunar Guard. Harlin took it in stride and headed for the tower exit.

“And here we go again,” Midnight grumbled while she and Dusk headed for the stairs. “Another night, another sortie, another handful of green freaks sent to oblivion. Sometimes I think it’ll never end.”

“It’ll never end,” Dusk assured her. “Well, that’s not totally true. If we screw up then the aliens kill us all and it will end that way. But this world is never going to be free of the Orks again. And I really doubt they’ll be the last alien threat that Equestria has to take down either, Warp storm or no.”

“Well aren’t you just a regular ray of moonlight,” the other Lieutenant griped.

Dusk smiled. “We’re not going to screw up, Blaze. Now then… what’s the wager going to be this time? Body count? Most greenskins put in the ground wins?”

“Nah, I don’t want to encourage anything stupid,” Midnight replied. “And the most assets identified would rely on mostly luck… how about speed? Last squad back to the line after completing their route owes the winner a round of drinks and will cover their cleaning duties for a week.”

“It’s a bet!” Dusk laughed. “C’mon, let’s go see what we’re working with.”





Ferrous Dominus sector 20
Residency hall C-6

The images from the dream were coming stronger than ever as Dusk returned to the upper levels of Nightwatch with a new dataslate under one wing. Many bat ponies were gathered here, either discussing their assigned patrol routes or talking with other soldiers about other things. The conversations surrounded him but failed to penetrate his attention; Dusk Blade’s eyes seemed to gaze into nowhere as he weaved between the groups of other thestrals.

“Lieutenant. Over here.”

The Tree of Turmoil loomed large in his imagination in this particular replay of his dream. It was a pathetic thing, quivering under the weight of its own power while its life force rapidly burned away. Merely a vessel of the Moon Mages’ rituals, it was created and sustained in a state of rotting near-death and then discarded like a used scrap of paper. What kind of magic seethed at the heart of such a thing, that even in such a state it could consume nightmares? What sort of things could the Tree of Harmony do, then?

“Lieutenant! Hey! Lieutenant Blade!”

The memory of the tree pulsed, bulging and receding like a beating heart. Bright crimson veins ran through the bark like arteries of lava. The flowers – those wretched, wilting blossoms that birthed calamity into the world in some kind of vile parody of floral life – bulged and inflated like balloons.

“Banzai!”

Dusk could almost hear something… underneath the monologue from the Moon Mage, like a whisper meant just for him. He narrowed his eyes and pinned his ears back, and the tree loomed closer in his mind’s eye.

Then Nacht landed on his back.


“Gah! Hey!” Dusk staggered from the unexpected weight but caught himself, managing to remain upright.

Nacht laughed and hopped off of him, her echo cannon bouncing on her back when she landed. “Time to wake up, Lieutenant! Did you get the briefing?”

“Yeah, as long as you didn’t step on it,” Dusk grumbled.

“This way! We’re waiting for you here!” Nacht trotted off toward her room, racing around the other bat ponies meandering in the hallway.

Dusk Blade felt a bit of unease but shook it off when he couldn’t discern a reason. He followed Nacht into her room, and then the door slid shut behind him.


“Make yourself at home, Lieutenant!” Nacht chirped, lifting off her echo cannon to place in her storage locker.

Nacht’s room was plastered over with colorful posters on the walls, almost all of them belonging to musicians and music bands. Her cogitator had been built into a large sound system, with cables running out of the casing to speaker towers that made Dusk cringe when he imagined the kind of volume they were capable of. On the other side of the room was her bed and a bookcase that was being used mainly to store bottles of neon mane dye.

In the middle of the room was Neuron Dialect and Gloom Fang. Dusk grimaced. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on already.

“Nacht, where’s the rest of the squad?” the Lunar Lieutenant said, glaring at the night-black mare.

“They don’t need to hear this,” Gloom Fang said. “Lieutenant… No. Dusk. Dusk, we have to go back.”

Dusk’s eye twitched. “Stick to Lieutenant, Gloomy. Also: It turns out our recon route doesn’t run through the cave labyrinth under the badlands, so no, we will not be ‘going back.’ Maybe next time.”

“Dusk, please, be serious,” the other stallion said, his ears pinning back.

“Okay, then I withdraw my joke about possibly agreeing next time. Not gonna fanging happen.”

Neuron Dialect shook her head. “Please, Dusk. Hear us out.”

“Why? Why do you need to waste half an hour of my time before I say no and shout at you all to go study the patrol charts?” Dusk demanded, a vein popping up on his head. “Why must you torment me first with more of your nonsense about fate and prophecy and the rantings of dead unicorns? I think it would be better for all of us if you didn’t!”

“Dusk, come on,” Nacht said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “We’re not asking you this lightly.”

“Aren’t you?! You all had some dreams – some of which, by the way, involve us DYING for pursuing them – and now you’re ready to desert and run off to a magic hole in the ground that isn’t even accessible anymore. That seems pretty light to me! And for what?!”

“The Element of Terror,” Gloom said without hesitation.

“We can’t GET the Element of Terror,” Dusk spat back, his anger visibly building. “And if we COULD, so what?! What would we do with it?! Are YOU gonna take it?!”

Gloom recoiled slightly. “Well, uh… maybe? I was thinking we could cut it up into four pieces actually, and then we could all-“

“THAT’S NOT HOW DARK MAGIC WORKS, NUMBSKULL!!” Dusk screamed in the other stallion’s face, his voice reaching a intense shriek. Gloom Fang cringed away, properly cowed, but Dusk quickly slapped his wings over his own mouth in recognition of his error.

Nacht shook her head. “Don’t worry about eavesdroppers. The walls on my unit are completely soundproof.” She kicked the nearest wall, and even the bat ponies’ sensitive ears struggled to pick up the thump of the impact. It was unclear what material the room was shielded with, but it wasn’t the usual metal construction.

“Convenient! Now I can feel free to shout ‘no’ over and over again rather than whispering. Thank you, Nacht,” Dusk said. “So! Are we done here?”

“Dusk-“ Gloom Fang began again, only to suddenly have the other stallion in his face again.

“That is ‘Lieutenant’ or ‘Sir’ to you, Corporal,” Dusk warned, his amber eyes seeming to glow threateningly. “The next time you call me ‘Dusk’ you lose a fang. That goes for ALL of you! Understood?”

The other thestrals nodded rapidly, stiffening their stances. Nacht and Gloom looked cowed by the command and clearly didn’t want to continue this encounter. Neuron Dialect, however, wasn’t ready to give up.

“Lieutenant,” she began, her voice cool and firm, “I believe it is necessary for us to pursue the Element, even at the risk of our careers here in the Company. There’s more at stake than we realized.”

“Oh? What’s at stake then?” Dusk asked.

“The future of Equestria,” Neuron answered.

“Really,” Dusk answered, clearly unconvinced.

Neuron looked over to Gloom, and then nudged her head. “Tell him.”

Gloom Fang wet his lips in preparation, clearly anxious. “So, uh… you know how you’ve all been having the weird magic dreams? Well… I actually had one too.”

“You told me you didn’t,” Dusk retorted acidly.

The other stallion cringed again, staring at the floor. “Well… uh, yeah. I did say that. The dream seemed so crazy that I didn’t think it made sense, so I kind of brushed it off. But now…” he took a deep breath. “Okay, so… in my dream, there was this… this creature. An alicorn. Except it had bat wings.”

Dusk flinched. Gloom noticed.

“Yeah. Sounds ridiculous, right? There’s no such thing,” he chuckled weakly. “And then Nacht, um… told me that it was real.”

Dusk shot a glare at the shortest thestral, and she smiled back nervously. “Nacht, why are you telling other ponies about the baticorn?”

“It was just Gloomy, I swear!” Nacht replied, waving a hoof in front of her. “I had to trade him a secret to get him to spill his dream! That’s all! Just us!”

“‘Baticorn?’ We’re not really calling it that, are we?” Gloom Fang asked. “That’s a terrible name.”

Neuron shrugged. “Continue,” she ordered.

“R-Right. Anyway.” Gloom Fang took a deep breath. “So the… baticorn is there, in the Vault of the Ancients. And it takes the Element of Terror. And eats it.”

“How did it get there?” Dusk demanded. “How did it get to the Element when we couldn’t?”

“I don’t know; that wasn’t part of the dream.” Gloom shifted uncomfortably before he continued. “I couldn’t make out much of the pony. The entire time it was surrounded by this weird shroud. But I could make out its form, and saw that its left eye glowed constantly, like… like something was shining a light from the socket, I dunno.”

“Okay, so it ate the Element of Terror? Then what?” Dusk asked.

“Then it consumed the other Elements of Destruction.”

Dusk recoiled, his eyes wide. “What?!” How?!”

“I don’t know. That part wasn’t in the dream,” Gloom grumbled again, slumping and looking away. “It wasn’t like yours, like you’re watching a recording through a vid-display. My dream was a bunch of disjointed images. So at that point I just saw more darkness swirling around the baticorn and it grew bigger and bigger and I just somehow knew what was happening. Eventually it had the power of all the Elements, and then… uh…”

“It attacked Canterlot?” Dusk guessed.

Gloom Fang looked up and slowly shook his head. “No. It attacked Ferrous Dominus.”

Dusk’s jaw fell open.

“Again, I’m not sure HOW any of this goes down, but I got some pretty… dramatic imagery. Void ships falling to the planet’s surface in pieces. Tank regiments being consumed by shadows. Temples ablaze. The manufactorum sinking into the ground. Corpses everywhere: human, Astartes, pony, Tau, even some Orks and changelings were among the heaps of dead.”

“It makes no sense. It’s impossible,” Dusk mumbled.

Gloom swallowed. “And then… at the end of the dream… the baticorn stood in front of the ruins of Nightwatch. The Astartes champions of the 38th Company were dead, their smoldering armor sitting among the rubble. Princess Luna was there too, lying at the baticorn’s hooves… dead.”

All the thestrals shifted uncomfortably at that, but it seemed like Gloom Fang wasn’t finished. “Atop the ruins, though, were the Elements of Harmony, Equinought Squadron. They were alive, and in full armor. And Princess Celestia was with them, glowing with a fantastic, furious light!” His voice sounded slightly haunted now, and his eyes were unfocused. “Celestia wept. She was crying, sobbing desperately. I think they all were. Staring down the baticorn and getting ready to strike it down.”

There was a long pause, and then Gloom Fang set his jaw, his eyes focusing on Dusk again. “Then the baticorn fled. It retreated. Not out of fear or regret, but because it just didn’t want to hurt them. That was the end of the dream.”

Dusk Blade slumped onto his rear, an expression of awe and disbelief on his face. He didn’t say anything, silently staring at the other stallion. Gloom shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, rubbing his wings together and fiddling with his hooves.

“After I woke up I was spooked, but I didn’t think too much of it. It was a dream about some kind of monster I’d never heard of before, and if the dream was an omen it might obtain ultimate power and kill everyone except the Equestrians for some reason at an indeterminate point in the future. Sure, whatever. Nothing I can do about that, right? But… then I learned it was real, and that it’s already hunting Chaos…”

“That’s why we need to get to the Element first,” Nacht said with a nod. “If we can get to the Element of Terror before she does, we can eat it first and that should end her killing spree before it begins!”

Gloom looked annoyed. “Nacht, we don’t know it’s a she. It could be a guy.”

“It’s a Princess! All Princesses are mares!”

“It’s an unknown creature that RESEMBLES a Princess! Besides, how do you know stallions can’t be Princesses? Just because that dumb sun hag is a sexist and won’t coronate-“

Neuron Dialect hissed sharply, and Gloom Fang immediately stopped speaking. She looked over at Dusk Blade, who was staring at the floor, deep in thought. Gloom and Nacht waited nervously, unsure what else to say.

“We know what we have to do,” Neuron said calmly. “Search and destroy. Either the baticorn or the Element itself must be neutralized, and we cannot ask the Company to do it without exposing everything to them. Even then, they would probably just dissect us and ignore our warnings.”

Dusk’s scowl returned. “And how do you expect to find either of those targets?”

Neuron pursed her lips. “I can’t. That’s why we need you, Lieutenant.”

Dusk did not seem pleased by this vote of confidence. “The Vault of the Ancients is within the Dead Barrows, through miles of labyrinthine cavern networks filled with threats only we and the Moon Mages have ever seen and survived,” Dusk reminded them. “We only got into it and out again last time thanks to the Mages, and that group didn’t live through the experience. That isn’t happening again. Nopony alive knows a way to the Vault. You understand that, right?”

“Um… no? I thought we could just sort of… go to the depths and fight our way in,” Gloom admitted, holding up his splinter rifle. “I mean, we have guns and armor now! We’re way stronger than before! The pit beasts can’t beat us!”

“I was thinking we might be able to trick the Company unicorns into making the portal like the Moon cultists did before,” Nacht suggested. “There are a ton of them here, even after the fleet left.”

“Can’t we simply map the cavern network with some kind of Mechanicus probe and sneak through once we know the way?” Neuron asked. “Surely they have a device that can do it.”

Dusk Blade looked from one bat pony to the other, staring at them silently. Then he rubbed his forehead with a hoof. “Moon help me, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Wow, okay,” Gloom Fang wilted again, his ears flattening against his head. “That’s kind of why we needed you to come along, but you don’t have to be rude…”

“Lieutenant, I know you don’t believe in destiny,” Neuron began, only for Dusk to interrupt.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I DO believe in dream omens, unfortunately.” The Lunar Lieutenant seemed very annoyed to have to admit this. “Whether some echo of the Element, bits of Warp stuff filtering into our minds from all the Chaos mojo, or even this baticorn directly projecting illusions to us somehow, it’s definitely not random nonsense and we can’t ignore it. For one thing, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get a good day’s rest again if we can’t kill whatever it is. So… yeah. I’m in.” 

“Okay. Great. So do YOU have a plan, then?” Nacht asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Dusk said, heaving a deep sigh.

“What? Already?!” the other three thestrals perked up in delight, but then Dusk held up a hoof.

“Yeah. Already. It has a lot of details to hammer out and I need to get it all ready in ONE DAY because you dolts brought it to me on the night before a deployment, but… yeah.” Then his eyes narrowed. “HOWEVER… if I do this, I’m doing it on two conditions.”

“Which are?” Nacht gestured with a wing for him to continue.

“One: If and when we get it, the Element of Terror is mine,” Dusk said, immediately getting dubious looks from the others. “I might eat it, or I might stick a melta bomb on it, or I might hand it over to Equestria to lock away in their big Element Room which is apparently empty now. I’ll decide on the way there.”

“What?! Don’t give it to Equestria!” Gloom objected.

“I’ll take your opinion into account, but probably not in the way you hoped,” Dusk retorted. “Second condition: If I’m doing this, I’m running it like a real mission. That means I’m in charge and you three follow orders to the letter. I also don’t want to hear any complaints about my plan, which will be explained on a need-to-know basis.”

“You’re not going to tell us the plan? Booo!” Nacht pouted.

“I’m not telling YOU the plan so you can’t gossip it all away,” Dusk snapped. Nacht winced and started sulking. “The rest of you because you’re going to start complaining and pestering me. Now I’ve got to go and start making preparations.” He paused, looking back and forth among his subordinates. “What do you say, Dagger Squad?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” the three bat ponies barked, albeit Nacht was still sulky about it.

“Good. DISMISSED.”





Ferrous Dominus – sector 4
Mechanicus cybernetics foundry Beta-6

“Please hold still, it’s almost done. Let me know if you experience any intense electric shock, as that indicates that the nerve socket may be misaligned.”

“Wh-What about l-little sh-shocks?”

“Totally normal. I know they hurt. I’ve been through this process too. But we’re almost done now.”

“Okay… Okay… Eep!”

Gear Works tapped at a holo-screen sitting off to his side, and then returned his attention to the pony on the other side of him. She was an earth pony mare who was being suspended by a large sheet hung from the ceiling and under her belly, leaving her three legs hanging down and exposed. Only two of them were biological, with the rear left leg already replaced with a bulky bionic. The left shoulder had an augmetic linkage installed into the joint, with a frayed cluster of wires hanging down around a central rod.

Gears turned his servo arm toward the wires, a needle probe attached to the upper claw. “There we are… a little feedback is to be expected,” he assured her as he gently attached the wires one by one to different points on the linkage well.

“The back leg-AH!-it didn’t feel like this! Ow!”

“Forelegs have more delicate and sophisticated nerve integration since you need greater dexterity. The pain will subside.”

Gears finished the last wire, and then checked the holo-screen again. “Parameters set. All systems green. Beginning final assembly.” A servo arm mounted on the floor wheeled around while carrying the bionic leg to be installed.

“This time any intense electric shock indicates successful nerve integration, not an error, so please inform me if you’re NOT in sudden and intense pain.”

“Wh-What? You never said-“

The bionic’s sleeve was pushed onto the rod, and the mare suddenly screamed.

“Omnissiah, once again you have blessed us with steel to renew our shattered flesh. Close the circuit, and restore this broken vessel to completion. Let mind give purpose and direction to motor, and once again join machine and flesh in enlightened harmony.” Gears spoke a prayer of convalescence as he worked at the holo-screen, his words rising above the gasps and sobs of the pony above him.

Though it felt like quite a long time for the hapless mare, soon the procedure was complete. The servo arms withdrew and the suspension belt started lowering itself to the floor. The pony laying on the belt whimpered, tears streaming from her eyes while her breath heaved. When she touched the floor, however, her breath caught in her throat.

The pony lifted her new front leg, and then the rear one. She looked down at her bionic hoof, shifting it back and forth. Then she took a few steps as fresh, happier tears started welling in her eyes.

“It… It works. They really work. This… I…” she quivered.

“You may find some lingering discomfort from the installation, but it should pass,” Gear Works said, banishing the holo-screen. “The procedure is complete, Miss Hearth.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I didn’t know if it would really work! I can really walk again!” she cried, racing over to the Dark Acolyte and seizing him in a hug while she wept.

“You’re welcome, Miss Hearth.” Gears waited patiently for her to stop crying, and then started to disentangle himself. “I am relieved that this operation has concluded to your satisfaction. Please ensure you review the user manual and perform weekly maintenance checks so that repairs can be completed in good order. I also advise you practice greater skepticism in the future when presented with feline scam artists selling the services of others. I take it you can see yourself back to your home sector?”

“I sure can! Thank you again!” she said brightly, trotting to the door with a highly exaggerated gait.

She stopped in front of the door, staring at the set of wheels and straps that she had used to carry herself around before her augmentation. Then, with a grin, she raised her bionic hoof.

“Don’t need THIS anymore!” she chirped, stomping on the center bar of the mobility aid. It folded instantly before the superior alloys and electro-twitch motors of the bionic, snapping in half and sending one wheel rolling off across the room behind her.


“Uh… we could have reused that for somepony else…” Gears mumbled as the mare walked out the door triumphantly. Then he sighed as the door shut. “Well, never mind. Time to clean up.”

Gear Works turned around.

“Hi, buddy!” said Dusk Blade.

“BWARGABWAA!!” said Gear Works, stumbling backwards. The Dark Acolyte managed to steady himself before he fell over, and after steadying himself the sensor lights on his visor narrowed. “Lieutenant! What are you doing here?!” he demanded.

“Looking for you, obviously!” Dusk said brightly. “I was worried you might be asleep. Great job on the mare’s legs, by the way. You’re really getting the hang of this!”

“What do you want?” the cyborg pony asked sourly.

Dusk coughed into a hoof and his expression turned more serious. “I need your help with a little something.”

“Let me guess,” Gears said irritably, walking past the other stallion, “you want me to produce some sort of document full of forbidden lore or esoteric technical data for you to present to Princess Sparkle as a gift.”

“No, no, I-” Dusk stopped mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. “Wait… that’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that?!”

“Then I guessed wrong. Oh well. Go ahead, explain this newest trifle,” Gear Works said as he started shutting down the machines around the assembly rig.

“Right. Yeah. So…” Dusk wet his lips, filing away Gear’s idea for later. “We’re planning a new offensive against the Orks to clear out the badlands. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but things have gotten pretty bad out there. The next phase is to do a big recon operation tomorrow night, mostly using the Lunar Guard.”

“I am aware. A few Dark Acolytes have been assigned to the forward garrison to assist with the artillery battery and defensive perimeter.”

“Right! Good. So anyway, you’ve been assigned to Dagger Squadron as a support unit,” Dusk informed him.

Gears froze, his hoof hovering just millimeters from the holo-screen. “That is incorrect. I have already been assigned to a temple maintenance detail, a lascannon inspection, three power cell replacement routes, and then some routine Prayers of Vigilance to a malfunctioning perimeter augury. All here within Ferrous Dominus. That will preclude any possible deployments outside the city.”

“Yeesh, that sounds like a lot of work. Lucky I got you reassigned!” Dusk said brightly.

“WHAT?! HOW?!” Gears demanded, shock and fear briefly turning his optics screen to static. “You don’t have the authority to demand a Mechanicus deployment!”

“That’s true, yes.” Dusk was still smiling. “I had to ask Princess Luna to secure support, and she had to ask General Harlin to make the actual request because the Techpriests flag her support requests as low priority. So it was a lot of trouble getting your detail changed without your knowledge or permission, but we did it!”

“This is absurd! I’m not a combat enginseer! I’m not optimized for battlefield operations!” Gear Works was starting to panic now, his servo arm swinging back and forth as if seeking an exit. “I have no weapons! I have no armor! My augmentation possess inadequate combat utility ratings!”

“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down, buddy!” Dusk Blade’s voice was uncertain now; he hadn’t been expecting such a reaction. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few Orks!”

“Yes, I am VERY afraid of a few Orks!” Gears retorted. “And we don’t know if it’s going to be ‘a few!’ That’s what the entire mission is about!”

“They can’t even shoot!” Dusk countered.

“I’ve scraped dozens of dead crew out of tank wreckage, Lieutenant; don’t presume to tell me that those green maniacs are no threat!” Gears barked.

Dusk was very surprised at the vehemence of Gear’s resistance. “But you’ve fought aliens before! What about the Tyranids?”

“They were a feeble gene-strain that contaminated an agri-complex! Barely a shadow of the creatures detailed in the data stacks!” Gear Works retorted, stepping forward while glaring at the thestral. “These Orks have been warring with our frontier detachments for months until they became too great a threat to be contested with patrol divisions and precision strikes! Don’t act like this is a trivial deployment!”

Dusk Blade grimaced and decided to change tactics. “Okay, okay! You’re right! I was way too cavalier about it! I’m sorry!” He sat on his haunches and clapped his hooves together. “I know you’re not a combat guy! Me and the squad will protect you! I promise!”

“Oh, you PROMISE?!” Gears sneered, immediately raising further alarm bells in Dusk’s head. “What exactly are your promises worth, Lieutenant? A servo skull and a vial of rejected septic technopage?!”

Dusk blinked owlishly. “A servo skull and… what? What’s a technophage?”

“You looted the Warpsmith’s forge, you insolent rodent!” Gear Works snapped, stamping his bionic hoof onto the floor.

“What?! No I didn’t!” Dusk lied.

“Of course you did! Do you really think you were being clever dropping off your ident-key before infiltrating the facility?! As if I wouldn’t notice it was hanging on the temple décor while the forge was being looted! I was interrogated for nearly three hours thanks to you!”

Dusk gulped. This conversation was getting out of control very quickly. “Look, we’re getting off-track here. This is a mission assignment and you are CRITICAL to the success of our deployment!”

“How?! Why?!” Gear Works demanded. “None of the other scout teams have Mechanicus support!”

“Er… well… the reason…” Dusk started to sweat as he realized he hadn’t come up with a plausible story to tell the Dark Acolyte. He had expected Gears to immediately submit to a proper deployment order, but not only was the tech-cultist resisting, he seemed to have something vaguely resembling leverage in this confrontation.

With no decent lies available, the Lunar Lieutenant braced himself for the final resort: telling the truth.

“I need you with our team to draw raw data from a series of seismic pylons and then to run a drilling platform,” Dusk admitted, hanging his head.

Gear Works didn’t respond right away, doing a quiet noosphere search of the logged mission objectives for the Lunar Guard’s operation. “You need me to do what? None of the mission plans involve a drilling platform.”

“My mission is special. Obviously most of the Lunar Guard are locating Ork encampments for the upcoming strikes, but there’s a different objective target for my team somewhere in the badlands.”

“What is this target?” Gears asked.

“That’s classified.”

Gear’s sensor light narrowed again. Dusk winced.

“I’ll tell you later, okay? For now what I can tell you is that there was a DarkMech mining operation attacked and looted by the Orks while their presence in the badlands was expanding. There were numerous sensory devices that were set up to collect data on subterranean mineral formations, and they got swept up by the greenskins a week ago. They hit a drilling rig at about the same time and stole it. Our mission is to recover the data and the rig.”

“So the rig is the objective?”

“No. We need the drill rig to… well, drill down into the objective area. And we need the seismic data to find the objective area first.”

“I don’t understand. Why don’t we simply deploy new machines after the greenskins have been pushed back?”

“This mission is time-sensitive, and the Dark Mechanicus isn’t going to send more equipment so we can use it. So we’ve gotta use the ones they already sent, but we’re going to have to take them back from the Orks first.”

“Recovering several machines from the Orks sounds SUBSTANTIALLY more dangerous than the original mission of simply scouting their forward positions and encampments,” Gears pointed out.

“It is, yeah. But I’m not asking you to do any fighting. Just hang back and let my team do the dirty work.” Dusk cautiously placed a hoof on the Acolyte’s shoulder. “If things get too messy out there and we scrub the mission, then you turn right back around and retreat to the forward base, you hear me?”

“Your squad consists of fliers. If you give the order to retreat – or your squad decides to do so of its own volition – I will most assuredly be the slowest pony trying to escape the Orks’ retribution,” Gear Works reminded him, blasting a puff of steam from his mask ventilation.

“That… Well, uh, that’s true, but we won’t leave you behind!” Dusk assured him.

“Yes you will,” Gears scoffed.

“No, no! I’m not lying about that part, really!” Dusk insisted.

Gear Works swatted his hoof away. “I’ll be clear, Lieutenant: I know you’re up to something, and I suspect this is not a sanctioned mission at all. Nonetheless, you DID go through the necessary channels to have my orders changed, and I do believe you when you say you need my assistance.”

Dusk’s ears perked. “... Okay… so… you’re in?”

“I have little choice, do I?” Gears grumbled, “but I demand to know one thing first: is this entire ‘secret mission’ just a plot to get a sufficiently impressive gift for Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

“No! Definitely not,” Dusk scoffed.

“So you found a present for her in the forge?”

“Yeah, I think that servo skull will actually do-” Dusk winced. “GUANO. That, uh, I meant-”

“Don’t trouble yourself trying to excuse yourself to me,” Gears spat, his eye lights narrowed. “I’ll be on the deployment dock with everyone else tomorrow. Now begone. I need to organize my personal projects to accommodate my absence and probable demise.”

Gear Works turned back to the cogitator and summoned another holo-screen. Dusk Blade turned away too, but then hesitated. He had gotten everything he needed out of this confrontation but felt very uneasy about the outcome. Part of that was obviously the ease at which the Dark Acolyte navigated and picked apart his lies, but more than that was an uncharacteristic concern about the other stallion’s safety.

“Hey, Gears?” Dusk asked, twisting his head around.

The cyborg pony didn’t respond, so Dusk continued. “I was being serious before. I’ll protect you out there. It’s going to be okay.”

Gears paused in tapping at the holo-screen. “… I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I know you don’t trust me, Gears, and… well, I don’t really have anyone else to blame for that,” Dusk said more firmly, “but I need you. There’s nopony else I can rely on around here. Especially for something like this.”

“I still don’t believe you,” the cyborg grumbled, “but I appreciate that you’re trying to appeal to my competence rather than slugging me in the jaw to ensure compliance. Good day, Lieutenant.”

Dusk Blade raised a hoof and opened his mouth, a protest on the tip of his tongue. But nothing came out, and after a few seconds he gave up. His ears flipped down and he trotted to the exit.





???

“Then… It’s over. It’s really over. Equestria has won. All because of… All because of HER.”

“I would say Norn deserves most of the blame, yes, but none of us exactly covered ourselves in glory up until now. You remember how well Cutlass did.”

“At least Cutlass TRIED. Where was Eisenwing’s vaunted ferocity when the Bloodborne stabbed us in the back? You pitiful-”

“ENOUGH. No more squabbling. If you will not heed our tidings, then you may leave.”

A trio of unicorns stood atop a raised platform, each of them dressed in old silks and decorated with silver jewelry. On the floor below them were the bat pony tribal leaders, standing in a semi-circle at attention. Notably absent, for obvious reasons, were any representative of the Bloodborne.

“Welcome, friends and allies in darkness. We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us in this troubled age,” offered one of the unicorns.

“’Troubled’ is quite an understatement,” Sturm said gruffly. “The tribes are in anarchy. Several ponies have already left our caverns and set out on their own, convinced that we’re only a few moons away from being annihilated by either the Bloodborne or Equestria itself.”

“We’ve had constant fights breaking out,” warned Bleak Attica. “Some ponies are claiming that the Moon Mages are leading us to destruction, and others are clinging more desperately to their faith, accusing those doubtful ponies of betrayal like the Bloodborne.”

“Which lot of them do you suppose is right?” asked Rattle.

The unicorns offered the last speaker an aggravated glare before taking control of the meeting again.

“It has not been easy for the Moon Mages either, I assure you,” grumbled one of the mares on the platform. “But we did not bring you here to commiserate. We must look to the future now. A future without her dark grace, Nightmare Moon.”

Another unicorn quickly added. “Eventually, of course, she will return to this world and plunge it into darkness! However, a timetable of centuries rather than decades poses… many challenges.”

“A future mired in glorious shadow… that none of us will live to see,” growled Cutlass.

“In that respect, the order of the Moon Mages will continue amassing weapons and arcana, preparing for that eventuality and maneuvering for advantage in the shadows. However, most of our resources must go to propagating, maintaining, and protecting the cult to ensure it survives over such a vast timeline,” announced the Moon Mage.

“Oh, what a surprise, no help for us lowly rodents starving in the caverns,” Drakk said bitterly. “At least you’re consistent, I suppose.”

“No help? NO HELP?!” another unicorn snapped, bristling like an enraged cat. “We concocted a plan to empower you ingrates directly and return the Nightmare from her banishment, and YOU-”

A sharp electric crackle interrupted them, and they recoiled as a flash surrounded a different unicorn’s horn.

“ENOUGH. Squabble with each other on your own time.” The front mage let her horn dim, and then straightened. “We will do what we must to ensure there is still a future for all our people. But I’m sure you can appreciate how tenuous our order’s future is right now. Equestria can never learn of our existence or the existence of the Elements of Destruction.”

“Ah, yes. The Elements. What is to be done about yours?” Rattle asked, turning to Sturm. “We were going to give ours to a chosen champion after a tournament.”

“Absolutely not. The Moon Mages will take them,” snorted another unicorn.

“What? Why?!”

“Because if you use them yourselves then Equestria would inevitably learn of them, and then they would learn about us, and then we’re all out of luck. To try to stand against Celestia when she still wields the Elements of Harmony is futile without our Mistress.”

“It’s bad enough that Norn consumed hers… if she makes a move on Equestria herself then we may all pay the price.”

“What was the point of all this if the first real, tangible achievement of your cult is locked away, never to be used?!” Sturm complained.

“Oh, they will be used. In due time, my little bat. In twenty years or a thousand, the tribes WILL see themselves triumphant over the decadent foals of Equestria.”

The horn of the lead unicorn flashed, and her eyes started to glow brightly.

“HEAR MY WORDS MASTERS OF THE NIGHT, FOR OUR VICTORY IS WRITTEN IN THE STARS THEMSELVES! WHEN THE GREAT DARKNESS DESCENDS UPON THE LANDS OF EQUESTRIA, FIVE NOBLE THESTRALS SHALL IN TURN RISE UP FROM THE DEPTHS! BEARING THE ELEMENTS OF DESTRUCTION AND UNITED WITH THE NIGHTMARE, THEY SHALL BRING LOW THE ENEMY OF THE MOON AND DEFEAT THE WRETCHED USURPER! AND THEN, FINALLY, THE NIGHT WILL LAST FOREVER!!”





Ferrous Dominus: sector 20
Nightwatch – Lieutenant Dusk Blade’s quarters

Dusk groaned and cracked his eyes open, looking up at the chronometer display next to his bed. 13:00. His eyes shifted into a glare, staring accusingly at the display like it owed him an explanation.

“I think I preferred it when I only had the same dream over and over. At least that one was pretty long,” he grunted, pushing himself up and stretching his wings. “Blasted magic thoughts are going to get me killed if I’m half asleep on deployment.”

He rolled out of bed and then crossed the room to his cogitator. With a few taps the device started up, and Dusk turned around and headed toward his armoire. Swinging it open, his gaze lingered only slightly over the many pictures of Twilight Sparkle before he started putting on his armor.

A crackle came from the cogitator. Attention! Deployment order designation: Dagger Squadron. Reconnaissance operation Gamma 41-2702. Presence requested in sector 24 at 17:00. The voice was bright and pleasant, and was clearly recorded from a mare.

“Another night, another handful of greenskins sent to that big green cloud in the sky,” Dusk mumbled to himself while he fit his mask into place. “Among the… other goals.”

After loading his wargear and setting the splinter rifle into place, Dusk closed the armoire and turned around. He walked up to his coffee table and lifted up the lid, and then reached in with a wing. He withdrew a green vial, and then squinted at the decidedly unhelpful label with variously sized and positioned blocks that ran the length of the tube.

“What did Gears say this was? A ‘techno phage?’ Hmm. Sounds like something you’d use on… well, him. Maybe it would be useful to chuck at a walker if we have to fight one.” Dusk shrugged and slipped it into his chest pouch. “The vial seems to be diamantine, so it’s not going to break on any minor impact. Probably don’t want to get this stuff all over me even if I’m not metal enough for its taste, though.”

He closed the top of his hidden stash and then slapped his cheeks with his hooves. “All right Dusk, this is it. Time for your big plan. You have an ancient artifact entombed who knows how many miles under the ground in an enchanted vault. You have an enemy army of violent lunkheads who want to murder you for giggles. You have a friendly army of corrupt psychopaths who can’t learn what you’re up to. There’s a THIRD army of inventive freaks that may be involved who nobody can figure out. Finally, there’s some unholy magical bat-beast out there who kills Chaos troops for no obvious reason. You’ve got three clueless but well-armed idiots and a brilliant but severely under-armed cyborg to help. We have to capture a bunch of looted contraptions from right under the Orks’ noses, use them to drill down to the vault, and then SOMEHOW break into the element vault itself. Then, FINALLY, the stupid dreams will stop. Probably. You can handle this!”

His stomach rumbled, and the bat pony winced. “But first: breakfast.”





Ferrous Dominus sector 20
Primary mess hall

Dusk sat on a steel bench, staring down at the dataslate he had brought from his room. An empty ration tin and water cup sat on the table next to him; the standard meal for soldier and laborer alike within the city. His gaze was unfocused, and he hadn’t touched the dataslate in over ten minutes.

Bits and pieces of his dreams swam before his eyes while the Moon Mages’ prophecy echoed in his ears. Visions of Queen Norn transforming, the Tree of Turmoil dying, and unicorns shouting at each other. Over and over the dreams played in his head, and this time Dusk Blade surrendered himself to the visions of the distant past. It occurred to him that the dreams may somehow help him in the mission ahead: seeing and hearing the very ponies who had made the Elements of Destruction and hidden them away could yield clues as to how they work and were protected by their custodians. Alas, it appeared that most of his dreams consisted of ponies bickering and making angry denunciations. A fascinating drama, perhaps, but useless to him.

“Hey Lieutenant, you’re up early.”

Dusk flinched, breaking out of his stupor. He blinked repeatedly and then turned his head around, spotting Gloom Fang trotting toward him. The purple stallion already had a ration tin and water cup, a wing clutching each one. He dropped them on the tabletop and then jumped, flying over the table to land on the bench opposite his squad commander.

“Good evening, Gloomy. Any interesting dreams today?” Dusk didn’t mean it to sound accusatory, but the other stallion winced and his ears pinned back.

“No, not today. My dream was a one-off event, I think. That’s why I didn’t think it was some kind of omen like Nacht’s.”

“Do you think it’s a warning? That there’s any chance to change it? Or is this some thread of magic just playing a holo-vid of our future to taunt us?”

Gloom’s ears twitched and he blinked repeatedly. Then his forehead creased deeply in thought. The blood-drinking thestral always adopted an awkward, straining expression when he was ruminating on something difficult. Dusk found it rather endearing, although sometimes the results made him want to throw things at the other stallion.

“… I think we can change it,” Gloom Fang said finally, frowning. “The future isn’t set in stone, right? You always say that our choices are still ours.”

“Yeah, but you usually disagree,” Dusk grunted. “You believe in the prophecy.”

“Prophecies are different,” Gloom Fang said matter-of-factly, lifting the tip of his wing into the air and wagging it. “Specific tidings handed down from gods and seers are different from random bits of a future being pushed into your dreams by… I don’t know, Chaos or artifacts or whatever.”

“That’s true, it is different,” Dusk agreed. “But in the opposite way, I think.”

“You believe the prophecy is guano and these dumb dreams are true? Really?”

“Yes. Bat ponies and unicorns lie, Gloomy. But magic? Magic does what it’s told. If it forms a vision of the future you’d better believe I take it more seriously than something a unicorn said a thousand years ago to make up for her plan blowing up in her face.”

“Okay but if magic does what it’s told what if something tells it to lie to us?” Gloom asked, picking up his ration tin.

Dusk jabbed a wing at Gloom Fang and opened his mouth as if to argue, but after a few seconds he just snorted and slumped onto the table.

Gloom chuckled and then suddenly bit into the ration tin, his fangs punching through the top. Then he raised the tin and started gulping it down. Dusk Blade watched the affair and grimaced.

“You know, I appreciate the human technology more than most but I’ll never get used to this nutrient slime. Absolutely horrid stuff,” the Lieutenant complained. “It’s probably the thing I like least about Ferrous Dominus.”

Gloom put down the half-empty tin and then took a sip of water before he replied. “Really? The pollution and dark sorcery are no big deal but the tasteless gruel bothers you?”

“The pollution sucks but I actually really like the gas mask aesthetic we’ve all been pushed into and appreciate how everypony showers every day now,” Dusk explained with a shrug. “As for the dark sorcery, it’s kind of why we’re all still alive so I find it hard to complain.”

Gloom’s eyes narrowed as he glared across the table. “I DID wash every day! I was in the barracks showers more often than you were back in Canterlot!”

“Sure, but sometimes you were getting dirtier in there, not cleaner.”

Gloom Fang flushed deeply, and his muzzle scrunched up. He quickly picked up his ration tin again and shoveled the remaining contents into his mouth.

“It wouldn’t be hard to accommodate a big population of pest insects, either. There were plenty of roaches in Canterlot. But it’s just too… well, not clean, exactly, but it’s not the kind of dirty that’s good for bugs around here.” Dusk sighed. “Fruit-eaters like Neuro probably have a hard time too. They import lots of hay and greens into Ferrous Dominus but not so much fruit. And almost all the fruit is apples.”

“What’s wrong with apples?” Gloom Fang asked between gulps of water.

“They turn into weaponized alien insects. That are also themselves apples.” Dusk made a gagging sound.

“That… wha… what?”

“Look it up.” Dusk Blade returned his attention – waning as it was – back to the dataslate, pressing his wing tip to the screen and scrolling down.

Gloom looked perturbed, but he put down his empty water cup and then leaned across the table. “Say, uh… Dusk?”

“Lieutenant Blade,” Dusk corrected acidly.

“What? We’re in the mess, c’mon.”

“That’s why I warned you again rather than making good on my earlier threat to remove a fang. Social grace is important. Now what is it?”

Gloom grimaced. “About the… the baticorn… where do you think it came from?”

“I don’t know,” Dusk replied.

“You don’t know for sure, fine. But you have some ideas, right?”

The blood-drinking thestral looked somewhat anxious, and Dusk quirked an eyebrow. “What, you don’t have any theories?”

“Look, I’m not as smart as you, all right?” Gloom huffed. “None of it makes any sense to me. Celestia wouldn’t really turn a thestral into a Princess… would she?”

“Probably not, no,” Dusk admitted, “so this one probably ascended some other way.”

Gloom’s eyes bulged. “What? Ponies can turn into alicorns without her help?”

“Probably, yeah. If we accept that Celestia didn’t do it, this new Princess is proof of that.” Dusk scratched at his chin with his wing claw. “Now, personally, I subscribe to the theory that every pony has an alicorn body inherently, and they’re just locked away somehow. Princess Celestia is obviously capable of magically unlocking it, but there might be other means.”

“You mean that maybe I could be an alicorn?” Gloom asked, looking awed at the prospect.

“Technically, yes. But in practical terms, almost nopony actually does become an alicorn, so the conditions must be very difficult. And they’re a secret, obviously.” Dusk frowned. “I asked Shard if the Moon Mages had ever come up with anything regarding the alicorn ascension and she said no. I believe her, because if they could turn thestrals into magical weapons they would have done that, even if there were extremely dangerous side effects.”

“So this baticorn found a way to grow a horn on their own? But how? How would somepony even think to do that, and how would they start?”

“No idea. There’s a lot of weird and secret magic out there, though. Everypony thinks there’s only one set of Elements, for example.” Dusk frowned. “Well, actually, I guess now there are only one set… weird to think about.”

Gloom Fang seemed intrigued, leaning across the table excitedly. “So there might be, like… a magic spring, or a jewel, or something like that, and when you touch it you can become an alicorn?! That would be awesome!”

“Keep your voice down,” Dusk chided.

“Oh, right. Sorry. But just think of it. If we could find that artifact, we could become baticorns too. Imagine a whole squad of magic-using fliers. That would be so cool,” Gloom’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll bet if we became baticorns we’d get power armor.”

“If we became baticorns the 38th Company would probably vivisect us to figure out how to make more,” Dusk drawled. “Nobody actually told the Iron Warriors where the class of Princess ponies came from. They think Princess Twilight Sparkle was born like that. If they knew the truth they’d probably force Princess Celestia to raise an army of alicorns.”

“Huh. Yeah. I guess they would.” Gloom frowned. “Wait, why is that bad again?”

“Princess Celestia is probably the only person in the world who knows anything about the alicorns beyond the silly legends, so I, for one, am not about to suggest to the Iron Warriors that she could magic up an army of super ponies any time she wants to but just doesn’t feel like it,” Dusk explained, “and since we’re on the topic, the other possibility here is that Celestia actually DID create this baticorn after all.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

“Don’t know. But if she was going to start upgrading ponies in secret, thestrals wouldn’t be her worst choice. We tend to be secretive and no one would care if a bunch of us went missing one night for no apparent reason.” He paused. “Also, not to put too fine a point on it, but Princess Celestia would not be heartbroken to learn that such a creation was murdering human Chaos soldiers.”

A buzzer suddenly rang from above, and every bat pony in the mess hall cringed at the intensity of the sound.

Alert! Deployment group alpha, delta, and lambda are to report to the landing pads for combat deployment within 20 minutes. Failure to report on time will be strictly punished. Have a nice night! The mare’s voice coming from the vox caster giggled and cut out.

“Welp. Back to work,” Dusk said, fitting his mask in place and hopping off the bench.

“So are we deploying with the others, or what? You never told us when and where we would be breaking off to do our own thing.” Gloom Fang joined his squad leader, using his wing to fix his own mask into place.

“Just follow your orders, Gloomy. We’ll get there.” Dusk smirked. “And along the way maybe you’ll get to ask the baticorn about what happened in person.”

Gloom shuddered and trotted after the Lunar Lieutenant.





Ferrous Dominus – sector 24
Landing pads

“Squadrons Dark Arrow and Nightfall! Form up!” barked the human commander over the howling wind. “Your lift is on pad 9! You have 5 minutes to embark!”

One of the squad leaders let out a sharp, sudden shriek, and  several other bat ponies around the lots jumped into the air to land behind her. Once they had all landed they skulked past the human officer, casting glares in his direction from behind the glimmering green lights of their optics visors. The mercenary watched them pass, glaring back from the cluster of bright red optics sensors that had replaced much of his face. The thestrals walked up a ramp into the waiting transport bay of a Valkyrie gunship, their manes whipping back and forth under the engine backwash.

“May the dark gods preserve you and bring death to your enemies. The green tide will break upon our ramparts!” the man shouted, slamming a fist against the Chaos Star hanging against his chest.

After all the ponies had entered, a loud clunking noise came from the ramp and it slowly lifted up and closed. The aircraft’s engines built up to a deafening roar, and after a few seconds the gunship lifted off into the air.


Dusk Blade watched the Valkyrie pass overhead, picking up speed as it shot westward. Numerous other transport gunships were on standby, either waiting for the pilots or cargo. Gloom Fang kept his head down, his ears pinned back while he had to endure the constant rumble of gunship engines.

They approached a particular group of bat ponies talking amongst themselves, but the conversation stopped as soon as the two incoming stallions were spotted. Nacht and Neuron Dialect were waiting quietly at the periphery of the group, but another mare immediately stepped forward. Like all the ponies she was wearing her respirator and he couldn’t see much of her expression, but her scowl was evident in her tone once she spoke.

“Well, well, well! Look who finally showed up to lead his own unit! Here we were thinking we might have to launch a second mission to the Mechanicus district to find you!” she growled. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you? We could be dropped from the deployment if you were late!”

“Good thing I wasn’t late, then,” Dusk retorted. “Also – not that it’s any of your business – I was busy eating, not loitering around the DarkMech.”

“Every other unit lead was here before the pilots were! Queen Empyra even showed up and gave a big speech about how we have to bide our time until we can seize the enemy by their throat,” the mare said bitterly. The other thestrals of Dagger squad didn’t seem nearly as aggrieved, and some of them looked away and coughed awkwardly.

“Can’t say I regret missing that,” Dusk Blade said, reaching his unit and stopping in front of the frustrated mare. “Anyway, calm down Sting, I’m here now. Listen up, everypony!” Dusk stretched a wing out to point at one of the platforms. “There’s been a change to our mission parameters! When Dagger Squad first gets called, six of you will embark and head out. The rest of us will be leaving on a separate craft!”

“Wh-What? Why?” Silver Sting demanded, almost stumbling over her words in surprise. “Who’s going in each group?”

“Me, Nacht, Neuro and Gloomy will make up the smaller group,” Dusk explained. “We’ve been given a secondary mission at the last minute that requires us to deploy and route separately. The rest of you will proceed with the original mission parameters. Sergeant Silver Sting is in charge.”

“Are you serious?! We’ve barely heard a squeak out of you since the last mission and now you’re abandoning us in the field?!” Sting snapped.

“No, of course not!” Dusk retorted sharply. Then, after a pause, he clarified, “I’m abandoning you before we even reach the field. Sorry about that. Orders are orders.”

“What is your new mission, then?” asked a different bat pony.

“Have to secure some seismic thingamajigs for the DarkMech,” Dusk said, “most of the details are classified, but the Orks have been stealing stuff in the vicinity and we’ve been tasked with getting some of it back.”

Neuron Dialect and Nacht shared an intrigued look, but Silver Sting was still extremely unhappy about this new information. “You’re going to be attacking an Ork’s stash directly? And you’ve got FEWER ponies in your team than we do? Shouldn’t Dagger Squad stay together for this if it’s more important than our recon objective?”

“It might seem that way, sure. But no.”

Sting arched an eyebrow, waiting for her superior officer to elaborate.

Dusk Blade turned around and started walking away. “Anyway, we have to meet with a few tactical assets before we take off. Also I made a bet that you would complete your run before Blaze’s team or we would all have an extra week of cleaning duty, so keep that in mind. Have fun!”

Silver Sting shrieked in aggravation as Dusk broke into a gallop, racing toward a garage on the edge of the sector’s landing pedestals and refueling towers. Gloom Fang bolted after him, shaking his head while his ears were pinned down. Nacht snickered before taking to the air to follow, and Neuron Dialect offered the agitated Sergeant a brief, silent bow before she joined Nacht’s pursuit.


Dusk trotted up to the garage and pressed a hoof into the access console. The panel lumen flashed green, and then the main doors started to slide open. Nacht and Neuron landed on either side of him, and the smaller mare slapped their Lieutenant on the shoulder with her wing.

“You know I’ve always said Sting needs to lighten up, but you’re REALLY pushing it, Lieutenant,” she snickered.

“She’ll make a better Lieutenant than I do when she gets promoted again,” Dusk replied, “I’ve just gotta stop getting in her way. She spends more time trying to keep me in line than our subordinates.”

“Okay, sure, but dialing back to the topic of our secret super-important objective, what’s the plan here? What was with that weird cover story about stealing a thing from the Orks?”

“That wasn’t a cover story,” Dusk replied. “Well, I guess the implication that it’s a sanctioned mission for the Mechanicus is a cover story, but no: we really are stealing back some seismic pylons that the Orks looted.”

“Oh. Why would we do that, though?” Nacht asked.

“Need-to-know basis, kiddo,” Dusk said, stepping forward once the door opened fully. “Now come meet our team.”

“I thought we WERE the team,” Gloom said, looking doubtful.

“We were, yeah. But that team wasn’t good enough, so I asked for some extra help. Check it out!”

Standing within the garage, on top of a raised platform and under the wholly inadequate glow of the ceiling lumens, was a single Strider battlesuit. It was connected to several cables, chains, and hoses, and on its flank someone had painted a cartoony image of a rocket blasting off. A lascannon was mounted on the right side of the walker’s head, under a large spotter lumen and a targeting scope.

Dusk trotted up to the walker but the other thestrals stopped, staring at it and looking quite unimpressed. There was an earth pony laying atop the Strider, apparently asleep, and it jolted when the Lieutenant jumped up and kicked the machine in its leg. Slowly the pony climbed upright, releasing a displeased groan followed by a heavy yawn.

“This is our team’s Strider. Meet our pilot!” Dusk looked up at the new equine, sounding pleased. “What’s your name, jockey?”

The pony sluggishly turned its head to stare over the edge of the Strider’s torso. “Zariyah. Zariyah Backfire. You are my command?”





Once the thestrals heard the pony’s voice – with a rich Stalliongrad accent, curiously enough – they could tell the pony was a mare. Up until that point it had not been obvious; her mane was a golden yellow run through with threads of black, and styled into a Mohawk. She was also fully clothed, which was hardly rare for a pony prepared for a combat deployment but helped to obscure her body and much of her ash-gray coat. She wore baggy camouflage pattern pants and a green shirt, along with a black leather jacket over it. An unusual outfit, and obviously not one that was issued from the 38th Company itself.

“Good evening, pilot! I’m Lieutenant Blade, and this is Dagger squad! We’ll be your attachment for this mission.”

“Whoa, wait, hold on,” Gloom Fang interrupted, “what is this? Why are we taking this thing with us? I know the Colonel said something about Strider support but we can’t have one in our unit! It can’t fly!”

Zariyah snorted and banged a hoof against the Strider’s top hatch. “My Icebreaker is faster than she looks, but yes, she does not fly. If that is a problem it is one you really should have worked out before now.”

“It’s not a problem,” Dusk assured her, ignoring Gloom’s questions. “Is your rig ready to deploy? The final pony in our group should be here any second now.”

“What? Final pony? Who? You didn’t tell us about any of this!” Gloom complained. Nacht and Neuron shared a concerned glance.

“That’s correct, Gloomy. What I DID tell you was that you were not to question my decisions in the execution of this mission. Do you remember that?”

The other stallion grimaced but immediately backed down, his ears falling flat against his head again. Zariyah tilted her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow.

“I will prepare to head out once everyone is accounted for, Lieutenant.” She cracked another yawn, blinking repeatedly. “I am not exactly night owl, so you’ll have to excuse me if I seem a bit worn out. A few Ork fusillades should wake me right up once we are in the field!”

Dusk’s ear twitched as he detected a pony with a distinctive half-mechanical gait approaching the garage. “Good to hear, Backfire. You’re primarily running transport in this operation, but with our luck you’ll get to use the big gun too.”

Zariyah smirked and saluted. Then she spotted a pair of ponies approaching the garage. “Are they with us?”

One of the ponies was a unicorn mare with a coat and mane in various shades of ruddy, dull purple: half pale, and half very light. She was a familiar pony to all the thestrals, and Nacht brightened considerably when she spotted her. Following a few steps behind her was Gear Works.

“Penny! Oh wow, we’re getting support from a Moon Mage? That’s awesome!” Nacht exclaimed, her rosy eyes shining. Penumbra Shard smiled back at her happily.

“No. I don’t know who let her out of the basement, but I’ll make sure to have them reprimanded severely. Shard, you can go home,” Dusk replied, pointing a hoof past the unicorn. “Our last team member is him.”

“We’re taking a servitor?” Gloom asked, looking doubtful. “Is this one of the cool servitors with guns? I don’t see any guns attached to it.”

Gear Works sighed, his ears drooping. Dusk Blade bristled and whirled around on his subordinate.

“Are you serious?! You don’t recognize the only pony Techpriest in the fleet?!” he snapped, causing the larger stallion to recoil.

“Uh… no?” Gloom Fang replied awkwardly.

“There’s a pony Techpriest?” Nacht asked.

Neuron said nothing, but started looking over the cyborg pony more carefully now that she knew he wasn’t a servitor.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Zariyah volunteered, still watching the confrontation from atop her Strider. “The Dark Mechanicus despises ponies. And human technomancy is an art that baffles our most dedicated masters. I doubt it is possible.”

“You’ve never heard of him either?! He designed the Strider battlesuits! He’s the reason you have a job!” Dusk shouted up at her.

“Nyet, the Strider was designed by Fio’el Fennin, one of the cowardly grayskins,” Zariyah said, pausing to turn her head and spit over the edge of her walker. “He sometimes stops by hangar to complain that we are over-stressing the leg servos by jumping over things. Feh! Engineers.”

Dusk looked ready to argue the point then and there, but Gear Works interrupted to cut him off. “Fio’el Fennin certainly contributed enough to their design that he could be mistaken for the sole inventor, yes. Anyway.” Gear Works took a step ahead of the mare he had arrived with. “My name is Gear Works, Dark Acolyte – not, as Lieutenant Blade said, a full Techpriest – of the Cult Mechanicus. I will be assisting you on this deployment.”

“Why?” Gloom Fang asked, narrowing his eyes. “Are we bringing you along in case we need to fix the Strider? Because I’m not totally sold on the Strider, either.”

“No. My understanding is that my skills are necessary for the completion of some key objectives,” Gears replied. “Of course, if you disagree, I will be more than happy to retire from this deployment immediately and return to Mechanicus business.”

Dusk stared hard at the other thestrals, his eyes daring them to say anything. Gloom wilted, and Neuron shrugged.

“Okay, fine; if the Lieutenant says you’re in, then you’re in,” Nacht agreed. “So with that out of the way, why is Penny here?”

Penumbra Shard patiently waited for everyone’s attention, and then she pressed a hoof to her chest. “I too am here to aid your deployment.”

“Since when? I didn’t requisition your support,” Dusk said suspiciously. “You’re not even supposed to be out of Nightwatch without an escort.”

“Since I sent a plea directly to Princess Luna to be added to the mission, of course.” Penumbra bowed her head, smirking. “I assured her that since your task required a Strider, it would not be such a burden to add another grounded pony to your team.” Then she gestured to Gears. “As for an escort, this kind stallion offered his aid, so it was not necessary to find additional protection.”

“That’s not true,” Gear Works said immediately. “She’s been following me for three sectors and didn’t say a thing until we got here. She probably thought I was a servitor too.” 

Dusk groaned and rubbed his head with a wing. “Okay, look: I’m not really in a position to turn down extra help from somepony who actually knows what we’re doing here. But if you come along, you’re going as a SOLDIER. You follow orders and you answer questions. No arguing, no lies, and no mystical ambiguity. Understood?”

“Of course, my dear Lieutenant,” Penumbra purred. Her tail swung gently back and forth as she spoke, and Dusk immediately felt a chill crawl down his spine.

“Also – I felt like this should go without saying but I should make sure – no flirting when we’re in the field. Keep your hooves to yourself, understand?”

Penumbra tilted her head to the side, still grinning. “Absolutely! I can think of LOTS of loopholes to that.”

Dusk glared at her for a few seconds, and then looked over to Gear Works. “Gears? Do you know where we can get one of those shock collars they use for the slaves?”

“ALL RIGHT OKAY I GET IT PLEASE DON’T,” the unicorn yelped, her sultry, teasing demeanor breaking in an instant. “No more fooling around! I promise! I just want to help!”

“I don’t believe you, but you would be a lot of help and your real goal is probably aligned with ours anyway. Bringing you along is likely worth the headache,” Dusk decided, much to Penumbra’s relief. “You’re in, Shard.”

“Dagger Squad! Group one, get going! Your lift is on pad 5! Venom Squad, you’re with them! Five minutes until liftoff!” came a shout from outside.

Dusk perked his ears. “All right, we should be next.”

“So how exactly is this going to work now? Isn’t this supposed to be a dark ditch?” Nacht asked.

“It is!” Dusk confirmed. “For those of you unfamiliar, dark ditches are high-speed deployments where transport aircraft dump a squad of bat ponies out the back in mid-air at night! It’s generally not done with non-flyers, but you’ll have grav chutes and the terrain shouldn’t be too challenging!”

“I need to get Icebreaker ready,” Zariyah grumbled, moving to the back of the Stider. “These technicians, they cover her with hoses and chains and such and then leave, and it always takes too long to disconnect everything.”

Gear Works looked up at her while she bit onto a hose and tried to wrench it loose, and then he started walking toward a cogitator on the far wall. Neuron Dialect watched him, her eyes glinting bright red from beneath her hood.

“Isn’t a dark ditch supposed to be pretty dangerous for other ponies?” Nacht said, briefly eyeing Penumbra. “Most pegasi are bad at it even with night fighting gear, and they can at least fly. We’re not going to have a deployment beacon and the Company outpost is some twenty miles from the drop zone if they get lost in the dark.”

“That’s true! Nice to see SOMEPONY reviews the battle plans,” Dusk said, coughing. “Look, I’m not going to mince words: this is going to be dangerous. We’re going to have to look out for our grounded allies. Although I should remind you all that Shard’s survival is not mission-critical.”

Penumbra recoiled with a gasp, looking appropriately offended. Across the room, Gear Works reached the console and activated it with a tap of his hoof. The holo-screen booted up and then vanished just as quickly as he navigated the menus at the speed of thought.

“And on that topic: it might sound like a drag, or even starkly unfair, but I’m telling each one of you now: Gear Works is the critical asset. He must reach the objective zone in one piece, and then he must get out of there ALIVE,” Dusk pressed. “When we’re in the field you look out for our Techpriest. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” Gloom Fang and Nacht replied.

“He’s only a Dark Acolyte,” Neuron Dialect corrected while nodding her head.

“Now don’t YOU start.”

A startled yelp came from the mare atop the Strider, and Dusk glanced behind him. The hoses that were attached to the Strider were popping out of the ports of their own volition, dropping down to the floor and then rolling back up out of the way. The chains securing the Strider from the deck and ceiling broke off their mag-locks, and a loud rattling filled the garage as they were withdrawn into their respective winch drums. The ladder on the side of the walker dropped into a slot in the floor and the platform slowly sank until it was level with the rest of the garage. Several yellow lumens turned green, indicating that the vehicle bay was no longer in use.

Gear Works turned from garage console. “Pilot Backfire, I’ve reviewed the maintenance check on your war machine, cleared it for deployment, and disengaged the refueling and safety rigging. Would you like me to employ a blessing before we depart? Perhaps something related to targeting entreaties.” The holo-screen above the cogitator was awash in unreadable data-screed, words and symbols speeding across the length of the projection.

Zariyah Backfire looked back and forth from atop the Strider, and then kicked the access lever to open the cockpit. “All right, maybe you are Dark Techpriest after all.”

“Once again, that is the wrong rank. But I am pleased to have earned your recognition,” Gears replied. “Shall we depart for the transport? They have not called for us yet but I saw that we are registered for pad 3.”

“Let’s take to the skies!” the Strider pilot said, suddenly sounding more energetic. “Maybe we will be lucky and find the fabled baticorn out in the wastes, yes? I would love to paint THAT marker on Icebreaker’s kill board. Ha HA!” She slipped down into the Strider’s body, and then the top hatch dropped down and clicked shut.

Gear Works tilted his head to the side. “The what? The baticorn? What is a baticorn?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Dusk Blade said, his eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Nacht. “Just a dumb rumor that some dumb pony has been spreading among the line troops, that’s all.”

Nacht said nothing, her ears pinned down and sweat beading on her face. Gloom Fang was also giving her a stern look, but Penumbra was giggling into a hoof. Neuron didn’t seem to be paying attention, watching silently as the Strider trotted across the garage.

“I… I see,” Gears mumbled, shifting one sidelong optical light to focus on the black thestral. “Well I hope someone comes up with a better name for it if the rumor spreads further. Shall we go?”

Dusk Blade took a deep breath, his wings pushing his optics visor down over his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”