Warpony 40k

by Luckythebrony

Plans and Priorities

Segmentum Celest, Pegusian Gate

“The Spire” formally Kasr’ Salvation

2349 Imperial Standard

The Spire was once a great Equinarchy cathedral city, was the shining example of the Imperial cult’s power over the masses. So of course when the thirteenth black crusade arrived out of the Eye and made planet fall it was the first city to be desecrated and conquered. It was never reclaimed after the crusade ended. The standard designs of Pegusian cities, with zig-zaging streets and tight packed buildings, actually proved to be the down fall of the Pegusian forces sent to reclaim it. The Equinarchial Cathedral of Her Glory in the Universe, the jewel and center of the city, was the first thing the heretics claimed as their own. The images of the Empress where debased and destroyed, the symbols of Discord and unholy statues erected in their place, the profane chants of the cultists and swirling crackles of warp energy gave a clear message. A great blasphemy was being conducted there now.

In the bowels of the Spire a dungeon was built to house the victims, a place where slaves and eventually sacrifices for Discord were kept. Alone in such cell sat six ponies. A mare and what seemed to be her pre-adolescent foal, by the way they were clutching each other. Another fairly attractive mare a tan coat and rose coloured mane who sat softly banging her head against the wall, the other three where all colts. One wore the uniform of a guard pony, or what remained of one, he was beaten and tortured the most as they hoped to delve some kind of intelligence from him. Amidst the screams and before he started to eventually just babble incoherently, he had told everypony, captor and captive, that he was just a solider in a standard armoured company he knew nothing special. The mare that was entertaining herself by slowly and tenderly killing her brain cells with the wall, had called him a hero and was always openly attracted to him, but never really made a move. Until she was dragged off by three horribly scared cultists bearing a symbol they all eventually learned stood for a god named Slaneesh. They all knew what happed by the state she was returned in. He comforted her, cared for her held her while she cried. He strengthened her and made her a tough survivor. She and the guard pony had been inseparable since then they were almost the closest thing to in love as one could get in the situation. They labored together, ate together and slept together. No pony knew why they were allowed to have this relationship and maintain it but then all anypony cared about was surviving. Though most knew what waited for them. It was one of those days the days when HE came through and picked out the sacrifices. He was a pony of average height but, lanky and scrawny. His vermillion robes, which bore the symbol of the Discord god Tzeentch, hung loosely on his body flowed even without the presence of a wind. The prisoners could always feel the unholy presence as he entered the stockades. His malice was a malady which as he walked spread to very corner of the room filling the prisoners with dread and depression. He made his way down the hall and stopped after the cell, with mother, child, lovers and survivors. He backed up and turned his head slightly to look at the mother. She looked up from her terrified son. Tears filled her eyes as he smiled wickedly at her and he nodded to his lackey, another ritually scared jailor, behind him. The Jailor snapped some guttural commands and two more guards appeared to open the cell. All of the inmates were on their hoofs at this point many had moved to the corners except the mother and foal. They both cowered in the middle of the cell. Nobody wanted to help them, to interfere meant death, and no one wanted to die for someone else, not here. Not where it would have meant nothing. The jailor reached out for the mother but a quick snap of the guttural language from the sorcerer and he began reaching for the foal. The mother was screaming frantically and begging, the jailors slight smirk was the only answer her pleas where getting. He wrestled the foal, now equally as hysterical as his mother, from her hooves. She lay on the grimy stone floor bawling and pleading with the jailor who, just started to laugh he turned around and came muzzle to muzzle with the hel-pistol of a short cut electric blue maned mare in Imperial Guard armour and kit, a hel-gun slung up over her shoulder. His expression, reflected in the purple tinted sunshades she wore, went from smug to terrified to furious as he looked behind her to see the sorcerer and his fellow jailors lying in pools of their own stinking corrupted black blood. Four more ponies, one with mint coloured fur and mane, with a white stripe, fiddled with a bracer which glowed and beeped. He noticed the other ponies where examining the corpses of his comrades and wiping the ichor from blades. His eyes flicked back to the sun shade wearing pony her expression of smug satisfaction made his blood boil.

‘Give me a reason, for as of right now you are more valuable alive, drop the youngling.’ Her accent was atrocious, but to hear her words in his own tongue was more appalling to him than anything. In a reflex of anger his grip tightened and the foal squirmed a little and squeaked slightly,

‘The Warp will feast on your soul for the infidel’s are like swe-,’ a hel-pistol struck him the back of his head and he collapsed releasing the foal who scampered right back to his mother. A turquoise furred mare with a two toned blonde mane emerged from the shadows, she smirked haughtily as she holstered her pistol. The special hot shot long-las slung across her back, her lighter scout armour, and simmering camoline cloak made her out as a stealther and sniper. She emitted an air of confidence and sureness that to most would come off as arrogant to many but, if you knew her she had the skills to back it all up. She leaned against the entrance of the cell,

‘He didn’t even see it coming but considering your crazy clucking wasn’t sounding any less hostile.’ she continued to smirk throughout looking at the blue maned mare as she made her way into the cell

‘It’s the dark tongue Lighting!! Of course it sounds hostile for Empress’ sake,’ she bent down in front of the foal and his mother, they were fearful and in awe of the first shining symbol of the Empress they had seen since they were captured by the cult, ‘Hey there little guy,’ She smiled sweetly and lifted her sun shades and reveled her rose coloured eyes, ‘I’m Sergeant First Class Symphony, but you and your friends can call me Scratch.’ She looked up around the cell, she could feel the hope she brought all around her through the glimmers in the ponies eyes. ‘We are here to free you and destroy this Hell hole.’ This set them all over the edge many fully grown and who had seen the worst The Spire had to offer wept and embraced each other. A brown furred stallion walked into the cell and began scanning the faces and eyes of the prisoners. On the sleeve of his uniform a subdued medicae symbol gave him away as the groups’ medic.

‘Doctor how are they doing?’ Lyre inquired looking up from his bracer.

‘If you mean what health condition they are in,’ the brown stallion known simply as “Doctor”, or “Doc”, replied somewhat haughtily, ‘poor every poor. Most are malnourished and dehydrated.’ He walked over to Lyre and grabbed his forehoof turning him around and begun to whisper, ‘Sir they will not be able to travel far on foot if we can get an medevac- ’ Lyre cut him off,

‘That won’t be an option right now the evacuation Valkyries will only be in the airspace long enough to get us after The Spire is destroyed,’ Doc gave the prisoners a sadden look and made to protest, but Lyre cut him off, ‘I know we have brought them hope and it kills me inside but I just do-’ Doc turned back to Lyre fire in his eyes,

‘You do though sir!’ He glared at Lyre no longer caring about rank or orders, ‘call a bird in we can shut down the air defenses on and the tower we are close enough and you know it!’ he was shouting now and everypony had turned to look. Scratch walked over and placed a hoof on Doc’s shoulder. He looked over at her. He took a deep breath, walked back over to the prisoners and began to bandage and treat there more minor cuts and wounds. Scratch sighed and looked up at Lyre she slid the sunshades up on her head revealing her blood red irises. She had a look like a pony that even at her age had seen far too much. Quietly she began to speak,

‘Sir we have to move them, if at some point our presence is detected they will be killed just so they cannot escape. It will simply be out of spite.’ Lyre sighed he knew she and Doc where right but what could he do?

“If we take them we will get slowed down and some of them may die…. If we don’t take them… Blasted….” He looked up a new determination on his face, he made his decision.

‘Doc, Sergeant Dust and Sergeant Melody will take them back to the evac point. The rest will continue forward and shut down the air defenses, we’ll rendezvous where we can when we can.’ He smiled slightly to himself it was as good a plan as they were going to get. Scratch liked it too she smiled slightly and nodded her head,

‘Good choices but we’ll lose comms with the other elements and command, as well as our medic if you go through with it…’ Lyre looked over at the grey mare pulling security down the hall her vox pack strapped to her back. Her black and light gray streaked mane was pulled back neatly and her stern expression told of a very professional pony. Every once and a while her hoof slipped to her ear when she was listening for important chatter. That was Sergeant Octavia Melody the team’s communication specialist.

‘I know but they’ll need to hail the bird more than we will need to hear how the other teams are faring.’ He smiled at her, it was hard to believe this was the same Pvt Scratch he had met several months ago in Detention Center BR-0N13. She nodded and moved between the guard-ponies explaining the plan to them. As she passed Doc he smiled looking over at Lyre as he hustled all the civilians on to their feet. He smiled lightly back and turned around to look away from them all he wondered if he’d get a stern talking to for this, “Yeah but I can handle that…” He almost laughed out loud at the thought but subdued it to a soft chuckle, five months ago he would have dreaded that. Five months ago….

Detention Facility BR-0N13 was a fortress in its own right. Located in one of the more inhospitable sections of Pegusa it was remote, uncaring and intimating, and that was just the landscape. It was like the castles of old Equestria, made of tough native stone and towering over the highest points in the area it was truly a site to behold. Lyre thought this as he gazed out the view port of the Alicorn shuttle he was riding in. As it approached the landing pad located in what could be considered by a more poetic type the courtyard of the castle, he marveled at the feat of early pony engineering. The structure was gruff yet refined marital yet elegant in its simplicity. Not much could be said about activity the only things that showed any life at all where the auto-las turrets slowly scanning the courtyard landing pad, standing sentry silently except for the dull whining of the gears in the metal arm securing it to the fortress wall. As the shuttle landed and the ramp fell for the disembarkation of the Major and its supplies, two ponies stepped out of the arch way to the north of the pad. One of them wore the collar rank of a Colonel the other the rank of a Capitan. The Colonel was a mare with fur the colour of the stone of the great fortress prison she commanded, a short cut brown mane and tail, and eyes the colour of the abyss set her attitude as an unapproachable pony. It is humored her heart was as made of the same stone, she was Colonel Stonemane, Commandant of this facility. The Captain was a brick red furred colt with a heavily augmented muzzle and forelimb. Both wore the iron coloured uniforms and the insignia of the Penal Legions. As Lyre descended the ramp of the transport Stonemane came forward. Lyre snapped to attention and saluted she returned the salute as crisp and sharp as to be expected. She spoke to him as the made there way back to the arch and into the facility,

“Welcome Major, the prisoners you requested are prepared for inspection as requested by the Governor.”

“Right to business I see Colonel, very good I will need a suitable space for training as well ma’am.” Lyre replied quickly and respectfully though he carried the authority of the Governor she was still his superior.

“Of course,” she nodded back to the Captain and he trailed off down a hall way, “we will see that ample resources are made available.” Lyre simply nodded to this as they came upon a large iron door. Stonemane entered a code into the control lectern and door slide up with a rush of air to reveal a well-lit stone room with several ponies in chains and ratty tunics the same colour as the officers and guards around them. As they approached he noticed that their manes where shaven and tails cut very short. He looked to Stonemane her neutral express giving away nothing. She nodded as to indicate he could begin his inspection. Lyre moved forward cautiously, even though chained each of the seven ponies looked very capable of killing him should they choose to. He noticed as circled them that they each had a serial number tattooed on the backs of their heads, no doubt to simplify the various administrative processes. He circled back around and stood in front of them, they raised their heads and looked at him with a combination of scorn and hope. They knew very well he was their last chance. Lyre straightened up and addressed them,

‘Listen up, my name is Major Lyre Heartstrings. I am an emissary and staff officer of Lord Governor Militant Gillimane Redlord, I carry his authority and his pardons,’ at this all of the prisoners ears perked a little more, ‘If you are willing to serve you Empress on a glorious mission you will be spared the Legion. If not well, let us just say for there is no other option.’ Lyre remained expressionless, cold. It was all a façade he had been practicing for days now with Bale and Bonnelly. On the inside he was cowering and terrified they would say no and return to their respective sentences. As much as Lyre hated it, inside of himself he also knew these convicts, accused of heresy where also quite possibly the last chance of Pegusa. The white mare stepped forward here blood red eyes alone would have made her intimidating if it weren’t for the cocky air of superiority she carried herself with.

‘If I may Sir I’ll speak of the group,’ Lyre acknowledged he had no problem and she continued, ‘Sir I am former Kasrcolt Vivian Symphony know by my moniker “Scratch”. My comrades and I are all faithful and loyal servants of the Empress. However we are accused of heresy, we just want to know, why do you want us?” Lyre stared, he hadn’t really rehearsed an answer for that question. He sighed loudly,

‘Well…. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want you,’ everything seemed to stand still for a moment Stonemane turned to look at Lyre. The Prisoners stiffened a look of astonishment and anger in their eyes. The guards tightened the grips on their shock batons, ‘in my eyes anyone could be better than you lot. However as I reviewed your files and service records I realized that my feelings on the matter don’t, only your abilities and the confidence that my superiors have in those abilities. Does this help any of you?’ Scratch looked down for a moment, she turned her head to her comrades all remained stoic and unmoving, a silent determination on their faces. She looked back up at Lyre snickering,

‘Were do we sign?’ The other prisoners all smiled a little and the air in the room became a little less tense.

Lyre snapped back to the harsh reality of the stockade forming back around him. He quickly surveyed the current situation other ponies from their team had entered and where beginning to corral the civilians out of room. A massive white Pegasus, with bulging muscles, a blonde flat top cut mane, and short cut tail. The sleeves of his uniform where cut sort to allow for his arms to be more comfortable when moving. He pulled security for the group with an Autocannon his weapon of choice. Beady red eyes scanning intensely even the civilians lest there be a traitor among them. A plum furred mare with a raspberry pink mane, and violet coloured eyes stood outside the door hustling the civilians along down the direction that Lightning and Octavia headed. Her name was Beatrice Proudhoof, occasionally she was called by the nickname “Berry Punch” for her affinity to a type of spirit fermented with local berries known to have quite a high alcohol content. She also had an obsession with explosives and, the destruction they caused, that actually bordered on the heretical at times. The last addition to the group was a mare helping Doc with an especially abused and frail looking older colt. Her fur was light blue and her Ice coloured mane had a dark blue streak running through it, her eyes where the unnatural violet of many Pegusians whole had extended linages. Colleen Gateguard, her military pedigree, which could be dated back to the founding to Pegusa, indicated she should have been an officer or an officer’s wife. She how ever had very different plans in mind. When the time came for her to choose her path she chose to join the White Shields as an enlisted. Her family disowned her and she became infamous as an assassin favoring a blade and to work alone rather than with a team. Until Scratch caught her trying to kill a rising star General many feared would rise to outshine them. She saved Colleen from the firing squad and ever since she would never leave Scratch’s side everywhere she went Colleen would follow her. I suppose it explained a lot as to why she was never more than the other room away or around the corner. All of them where the elite that Ponykind could offer shy of a Marestartes, Lyre got a bit of chill up his spine glad that they were content to be on the other side of the planet wiping out heretic encampments to ready for the eventual invasion, those beings where truly the only thing that scared him anymore. His comm bead chirped in his ear it was Lightning, reporting that a possible LZ or landing zone had been cleared and secured. Now it was time of the rest of the team to move and eliminate their objective. He turned to Scratch and nodded his approval she moved and began shouting orders to the others in the assault team and they made their way out another exit to the west of the door the prisoners escaped. Lyre looked back and scanned the prison cells on last time to make sure no Empress fearing pony remained in the cells. He exited and nodded to Beatrice who nodded back with a manic grin on her face as she pressed a switch on a controller blowing the room to the Warp.

Well no going back now, he thought with a pang of regret he was worried about the other three members of his team. Not to mention the almost fifty other souls he may have just sent to their deaths instead of their salvations